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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly
+Magazine, June 1844, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly Magazine, June 1844
+       Volume 23, Number 6
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Lewis Gaylord Clark
+
+Release Date: May 15, 2008 [EBook #25475]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KNICKERBOCKER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+    T H E  K N I C K E R B O C K E R.
+
+VOL. XXIII.      JUNE, 1844.       NO. 6.
+
+
+
+
+THE PLAGUE AT CONSTANTINOPLE.
+
+BY AN EYE-WITNESS.
+
+
+In 1837 I was a resident in Galata, one of the faubourgs of Constantinople,
+sufficiently near the scenes of death caused by the ravages of the plague
+to be thoroughly acquainted with them, and yet to be separated from the
+Turkish part of the population of that immense city. It is not material to
+the present sketch to dwell upon the subject of my previous life, or the
+causes which had induced me to visit the capital of the East at such a
+period of mortality; and I will therefore only add, that circumstances of
+a peculiarly painful nature obliged me to locate myself in Galata, where
+there were none to sympathize in my feelings, or any one with whom I could
+even exchange more than a word of conversation. I saw none but the widowed
+owner of the house in which I had a chamber, her daughter Aleukâ, and
+Petraki, her little son.
+
+While the epidemic raged, we four endeavored to keep up a rigid
+quarantine. Each recommended to the other the strictest observance of our
+mutual agreement not to receive any thing from without doors, except the
+necessaries of life; and whenever we left the house, which was to be as
+seldom as possible, not to come in contact with any one. Whenever I went
+out I invariably wore an oil-cloth cloak, and by the aid of my cane
+prevented the dogs of the streets, which are there so numerous, from
+rubbing against me. If I visited any one, which I seldom did, I always sat
+on a bench or chair to prevent conveying or receiving contagion; and
+before even entering the house, I always underwent the preparation of
+being smoked in a box, which during the prevalence of the plague is placed
+near its entrance for that purpose. These boxes were some eight feet high
+by three square, the platform on which the feet rested elevated about a
+foot above the earth, so as to admit under it a dish containing the
+ingredients of the prophylactic, and a hole in the door to let the face
+out during the smoking of the clothes and body. We procured our daily
+supply of provisions from a _Bak-kal_, a retail grocer, whose shop was
+directly under our front window; an itinerant _Ekmekjer_, or bread-man,
+brought our bread to the door; our vegetables were procured from a
+gardener close by, and our water we drew from a cistern under the house:
+in fine, our food was either smoked or saturated before we touched it, and
+every possible precaution observed to cut our little family off from the
+dreadful scourge, 'the pestilence which walketh in darkness and the
+destruction which wasteth at noon day.' The mother and daughter throughout
+the day spun silk, knitted woolen suits, or embroidered kerchiefs for head
+dresses, called in Romaic _fakiolee_, and even to a late hour of the night
+they frequently continued the same employment, until the plague prevented
+the sale of their handiwork, and their materials were all used up. All day
+long they would sit upon the sofa of their little apartment, facing the
+street, and while their hands toiled for a subsistence, the widow's
+daughter hummed a plaintive air, or occasionally broke the silence by
+conversing with her mother. The son was yet too young to be of assistance
+to his desolate mother and sister, and except when he said his letters to
+them, spent the day in idleness. As to my own employment, the dull period
+of time passed with them was a blank in my existence; and yet, such is the
+influence of past penury and pain, that I now recall them with pleasure.
+
+The weather was generally very warm, and south-west breezes over the sea
+of Marmora prevailed. From our highest windows we could observe sluggish
+seamen lounging on the decks of their vessels in the port, afraid to land
+amid the pestilence. Here and there a vessel strove against the current of
+the Bosphorus to gain an anchorage; or would slowly float down that stream
+into the open sea, on its way to healthier and happier Europe. The
+starving dogs at nightfall would howl dismally, bewailing the loss of the
+benevolent hands from which they usually received their food; the gulls
+and cormorants floated languidly over our dwelling, overpowered by the
+heat; and the dead silence, which in the afternoon and evenings prevailed,
+made a most melancholy and affecting impression on my mind.
+
+The plague that summer, (I may limit the period to three months,) carried
+off more than fifty thousand persons. For some time the mortality amounted
+to a thousand _per diem_. The number of corpses which passed the limited
+range of my window daily increased; and after witnessing the spectacle for
+some time, I always insensibly avoided the sight of the dead, and felt a
+cold shudder run over my frame whenever the voice of the priest
+accompanying the corpses struck my ear. So dreadful is the malady, so
+surely contagious, and so mortal, that so soon as attacked, the
+unfortunate being is deserted by relatives and friends, and when dead, two
+or four porters beside a priest were generally the only persons who
+attended the body to the grave. When the deceased is a Mussulman, he is
+more frequently attended during his illness, and after death to his tomb,
+than if a Christian. With the former, the plague is a visitation of
+Providence, from which it is both useless and a sin to escape, while with
+the latter not only is it deemed necessary to provide for one's own life,
+but even to do so at the sacrifice of the dearest friend. Often I noticed
+a dead body tied on a plank which a single porter carried on his back; at
+other times the object would be concealed within a bag, and then the grave
+was a ditch common to all, into which the porter would shake off his load
+and return for another. No priest or Imam there presided over the funeral
+scene; few or none were the prayers that were said over the remains: he
+who but a short week before had been proud of his strength or condition,
+or she who in the same short space of time previous excelled in beauty and
+grace, there lay confounded in one neglected, unhonored, and putrefying
+mass. The air became impregnated with the effluvia; the houses around the
+Turkish cemeteries, which are mostly in the heart of the city, where the
+dead are interred, but some three feet beneath the surface, were soon
+deserted, their owners dead. The ever-green cypress trees under whose
+umbrageous quiet the beautiful children once played, now moaned over their
+little graves; and in fine, every one in the deserted city walked with
+measured steps, apprehensive of threatening death: awe and consternation
+filled the minds of all.
+
+The Sultan's own household was not free from the scourge. By some means it
+found access to his servants and carried off about fifty of them. Their
+bodies were cast into the Bosphorus, and the Sultan fled to another
+palace. The ministers of the Sublime Porte suffered severely in their
+families; their wives and slaves died off in numbers; and even the
+minister of foreign affairs is said to have taken it and narrowly escaped.
+Few survived when once attacked, and the chances of recovery were scarcely
+worth calculating. And yet among the Mussulmans little or no precaution
+was taken; for although by a government order all the principal offices
+were provided with fumigatory boxes, they were seldom used. The Mussulman
+Sheiks declared that the contagion came from Heaven, and could only be
+averted by Almighty power. Yet it was a well-known fact that cleanliness
+of habits went far toward preserving against the disease; and frequent
+change of apparel, with ordinary precautions, sufficed to preserve many
+who otherwise would doubtless have taken it.
+
+But I think the reader will be able, from the preceding sketch, to form
+some idea of the nature and extent of the mortality of the plague in 1837.
+While it raged, every feeling approaching to a similarity with what is
+known to denote an attack, excites apprehension. A pimple, through the
+medium of the imagination, is transformed into a horrid _bubo_; a cold or
+a simple head-ache, however trifling, are attributed to the dreaded
+malady; and even the firmest mind at such times quails under trifling
+appearances. In some cases the scene of agony closes in a few hours--even
+minutes; they fall down and almost immediately expire. Others linger for
+twenty-four or forty-eight hours, or several days elapse before death puts
+an end to their sufferings. Some again bear it in their systems for
+several days, and attend to their usual occupations: at length it appears,
+they fall ill and expire, or recover. Few account for their being
+attacked; they do not remember having touched any one suspected or
+exposed; and again, the porters, whose duty it is to convey the attacked
+to the hospitals and the corpses to their graves, escape. The mother
+attends upon her dying child, sacrifices every apprehension to her
+affection, and yet escapes, or the child brings it to its parent, who
+dies, while the innocent cause survives. No cure has yet been found for
+it; and Nature must be left to take her course. Extreme heat or cold have
+a favorable effect upon it; but the temperate climate of Constantinople,
+with the frequent dearth of water, the dust, and other impurities, tend
+greatly to its dissemination.
+
+It was therefore during this painful period that I resided in Galata;
+free, as I had hoped, from the contagion; and yet it found its way into
+our little family, accompanied by all its horrors.
+
+One morning in the latter part of the month of October, invited by the
+clearness of the air and a fresh breeze which had scarcely strength
+sufficient to ruffle the water of the harbor, I left my humble apartment
+and ascended the steep hill of Pera. The view--from the small tuft of
+graves near the Galata tower, some of which were fresh; of the surrounding
+villages and the great city itself, where, although devastation had been
+and still was being carried on with horror, there seemed to reign the most
+perfect tranquility, resembling the calm bosom of the treacherous sea,
+quiet over the lifeless bodies of its victims and the wreck of the noble
+vessels which had furrowed its surface--relieved the monotony of my
+existence. I gazed longingly upon the many ships lying before me at anchor
+in the stream, which could in a few days bear me far away from the scenes
+of death and desolation that surrounded me; or I exchanged a word with any
+passing acquaintance who ventured from Pera to his counting-house in
+Galata. A longer walk gave rise to too many sad reflections. Farther on
+was the _Petit Champ des Morts_, a small Turkish cemetery, here and there
+spotted with new-made graves, over which more than one aged female mourned
+the loss of her life's companion, or perhaps it would be one of fewer
+years, who wept the fatal destiny of her young husband, brother, sister,
+or child.
+
+After spending the best part of the day in walking about, I returned to
+the house of my residence. As usual, I found the door fastened; I knocked,
+but no one answered me. Again I knocked, and called repeatedly before my
+voice was heard. At length a low moan, and then a scream, issued from
+within. Petraki, the widow's son, opened the door, and with a pale and
+frightened countenance told me his mother had suddenly been taken very
+ill. There was no alternative. I entered her sitting-room, where in the
+company of the family I had spent many quiet hours. Now how changed! The
+mother lay upon the sofa, pale; and breathing with difficulty. Aleukâ, the
+daughter, knelt by her side on the floor, though greatly agitated herself,
+and endeavoring to calm her mother's apprehensions. Without once
+reflecting on the possible consequences, I sat down on a chair beside the
+sufferer, felt her pulse, and as well as I could, made inquiries after her
+health. Her pulse was quick, her tongue white and thickly furred, and
+extreme lassitude was shown by her dejected countenance. Uncertain as to
+the nature of her disease, and unable to offer any alleviation of her
+sufferings, I retired to my apartment. There I _did_ reflect on the danger
+which I had incurred, and the possibility of the widow having caught the
+plague.
+
+Every hour she became worse; her sufferings were intensely painful; and to
+shorten the recital of the sad scene of that night, I will only add, that
+the horrid disease showed itself on her person before midnight, and at
+break of day her spirit fled. Of course my mind now prepared for death. I
+felt confident that I also should soon be a victim to the plague. Early in
+the morning I called a passing priest and had the widow's remains conveyed
+to their last abode--I knew not where. I had no place to fly to; every
+door would be closed against me; and I retired to my apartment, feeling
+that I was stepping into my tomb while yet alive. There I was not long
+kept in suspense, for soon the plague attacked first Petraki then myself.
+When giddiness, the first symptom of the plague, seized me, and I could no
+longer stand, but fell despairingly on my bed, what were my feelings! But
+let me not recall them _now_; the mental agony which I suffered it is
+impossible to describe, and I shudder at the recollection. Aleukâ attended
+upon me and her brother with all the tenderness and care and forgetfulness
+of self which is so characteristic of the female character. I begged her
+to leave me to die alone, to place water by my side and depart, but she
+would not hear of it.
+
+The first night after his attack Petraki expired, and on the following
+morning was borne away; and I have an indistinct recollection of being
+visited on the evening of the same day by the priest and porters. They
+endeavored to prevail upon Aleukâ to desert me, saying that in a few hours
+I would cease to exist. But she constantly refused, determined she
+replied, to remain by my side until my sufferings were ended.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+For several days I was delirious. I remember I knew of nothing; nothing
+but water passed my lips. Sores broke out over my body, and those on my
+groins and arm-pits were not closed for some months. My neck however was
+free, and this no doubt saved my life. On the seventh day I regained my
+senses, and found myself in my apartment, the wasted figure of my guardian
+angel still watching over me. I remember, on perceiving in me a favorable
+change, how her countenance was lit up with joy! Oh, Friendship! how
+seldom are you found with the sincerity which I then beheld in an humble
+and uneducated girl! Just when I thought all my prospects in life were
+blighted; when I had keenly felt the unkindness of mankind, and despaired
+of ever again finding any thing in this world worth living for; when I had
+already bidden it farewell, and the other world was full in view; I found
+what alone can make life delightful even in poverty and
+misfortune--friendship and love. Soon the violence of the disease abated,
+and I was saved.
+
+I must hastily pass over my long and painful convalescence. A month
+elapsed before I could venture to go beyond doors. Aleukâ attended upon
+me, and through her economy my purse yet held out. The plague had greatly
+subsided; the month of December set in with uncommon severity of cold, and
+checked its progress. Oh! the exquisite delight with which I left my hard
+and burning bed and close apartment, the scenes of all my sufferings, for
+the first time! With a prayer of thankfulness on my lips, I crossed the
+threshold of the humble dwelling, and once more slowly mounted the steep
+hill of Pera.
+
+It was a bright, sunny, clear morning; the fresh, cool breeze from the
+Black Sea blew over me, infusing new strength and life into my shattered
+frame. The streets were again re-peopled, and business renewed. No one
+recognized me in my pale, haggard and swollen countenance; and when I
+presented myself at the door of a countryman in Pera, he drew back with an
+exclamation of surprise, as if he had beheld a spirit.
+
+My short story is told. I have comprised in a few words the tale of many
+long days of agony and suffering, both mental and corporeal. I fast
+regained my strength and vigor; the hollow furrows of my forehead and
+cheeks soon gave way to the effects of a generous diet; and I once more
+stood forth in health and full powers.
+
+But you will ask, 'And where is she who watched over you during your
+moments of suffering?--whom you called your guardian angel, and of whose
+friendship and love you spoke in such feeling terms?' I reply, that she
+sits even now at my side; her handsome and intelligent countenance reading
+in my face the varied emotions to which the tracing of these lines give
+rise. Devoted Aleukâ is my loving and much-loved wife.
+
+                                                              J. P. B.
+
+
+
+
+A SONG
+
+BY JOHN WATERS.
+
+
+Time was I thought that precious name
+  Less meet for Court than Alley;
+But now, no thrilling sound hath Fame,
+  No clarion note, like SALLY!
+
+There seems at first, within the word,
+  Some cause to smile, or rally;
+But once by her sweet glance preferr'd,
+  Ev'n Heaven itself loves SALLY!
+
+The world moves round when move her Eyes,
+  Grace o'er each step doth dally,
+The breath is lost in glad surprize;
+  There is no belle, like SALLY!
+
+Old hearts grow young, off flies the gout,
+  Time stops, his Glass to rally;
+I hardly know what I'm about--
+  When lost in thought on SALLY!
+
+Sometimes she's small, sometimes she's tall,
+  I can't tell how, vocally;
+For there's a spirit over all,
+  That beams abroad from SALLY!
+
+A spirit bright, a beam of light,
+  Ah! fear not that I rally--
+No man can Evil think in sight
+  Of this pure-hearted SALLY!
+
+And yet Time was, I thought the name
+  For Court less fit, than Alley;
+While now, no herald sound hath Fame,
+  No clarion note, but SALLY!
+
+
+
+
+REMINISCENCES OF A DARTMOOR PRISONER.
+
+NUMBER THREE.
+
+
+Under the circumstances related in my last number, it will readily be
+inferred that sleep was out of the question. The only alternative was to
+sit or lie down and meditate upon the next change which might befal us.
+There was but little disposition for merriment at such a time and place;
+yet there was one man, named John Young, but called by his companions 'Old
+John Young,' who in despite of empty stomach and aching limbs, amused
+himself and annoyed all others by singing a line of one and a verse of
+another, of all the old songs he could recollect from his earliest
+boyhood; dispensing his croaking melody with such untiring zeal as to keep
+the most weary awake had they been inclined to sleep.
+
+At break of day we began to try to move about, and gradually straighten
+ourselves, which was something of an effort, stiffened and benumbed as we
+were with remaining in our wet clothing so many hours. We had now an
+opportunity of examining our habitation. It was a building of about four
+hundred feet long, by seventy-five or eighty wide, three stories high, and
+built of stone, with massive doors and strongly-grated windows, the floors
+being of stone or cement, and perfectly fire-proof. Each floor formed one
+entire room, except being divided by five rows of posts running the whole
+length of the building, by which the prisoners slung their hammocks. The
+prisoners were divided off in 'messes' or families of six or eight, each
+occupying room sufficient to sit around one of their chests, which usually
+served as a mess-table. One row or tier of these messes were ranged next
+to the walls on each side, and two rows down the centre, back to back, as
+it were, leaving two avenues, or thoroughfares, the whole length of the
+building. The entire arrangement resembled the stalls in a stable, more
+than any thing else I can compare it to.
+
+There were seven of these prisons, all of about the same size and
+construction, one of which was not occupied. The whole was enclosed in a
+circular wall of about twenty feet high, and covering a space of from
+eight to ten acres of ground. This was divided in three parts by a wall
+similar to the outside one. The centre yard was occupied by No. 7,
+allotted to the colored prisoners, and the other two yards had three
+prisons in each. On the outside wall were platforms and sentry-boxes at
+short distances, for the guards. About fifteen feet within that wall was a
+high iron railing. In front of the main entrance was a large square, used
+for drilling soldiers and other purposes, and twice a week as a market for
+the country people; and on each side of this were the barracks and
+hospital, and in front of these were the officers' quarters. This dépôt
+was situated upon a hill, surrounded by a vast common of many miles in
+extent, without a bush or tree to relieve the dreary waste; and from its
+elevated position it was generally shrouded by clouds, rendering it chilly
+and uncomfortable the greater part of the year.
+
+The daily allowance of food consisted of a pound of beef, a pint of soup,
+and a pound of bread to each man; that is to say, at the rate of one
+hundred pounds of raw beef to an hundred men. The meat was cut up and put
+into large boilers, with sufficient barley to thicken it for soup. This
+was boiled until the meat would leave the bone, and the barley was well
+cooked; and when ready, was served up to the different messes. By the time
+each person got his beef it was almost too small to be seen, being shrunk
+up by long boiling; and the bone being taken out, it was no larger than a
+small-sized tea-cup. The pound of bread was not much larger: it was made
+of barley, slack-baked, and very dark, though sweet. Indeed it was good
+enough, what there was of it. On Fridays the fare was varied by the same
+amount in fish and potatoes.
+
+As some require more nutriment than others, the same quantity of fare did
+not satisfy all the prisoners alike. I frequently saw many of them devour
+their day's allowance at one meal without appeasing their hunger; and
+before the next day's rations were served out, they would be almost
+frantic from starvation. Some became so exhausted that they were compelled
+to go to the hospital until they recovered strength. Those who possessed a
+little money fared somewhat better, as they could indulge in the luxury of
+bullock's liver, fried in water for the want of fat, or a hot pumgudgeon
+fried in the same material. This exquisite dish is not appreciated
+according to its merits. It commonly bears the undignified title of
+'codfish-balls;' and is well known at the present day among our eastern
+brethren, though not held in the same veneration by them as clam-chowder.
+'Dartmoor pippins,' or potatoes, were also held in high estimation with
+us.
+
+Dartmoor prison was a world in miniature, with all its jealousies,
+envyings and strife. How shall I describe the scenes enacted within its
+walls? how portray the character of its inhabitants? If I but held the pen
+of DICKENS or the pencil of MOUNT, I might hope so to bring the objects
+before the mind's eye of the reader, that they would stand forth in full
+relief, inducing him almost to imagine that he stood in their midst.
+Though many years have rolled by since those events occurred, they still
+linger in my memory like the vivid scenes of a high-wrought drama; and
+often in the 'dead waste and middle of the night' do I revisit in my
+dreams scenes which I should be sorry to survey when awake.
+
+I think it one of the greatest blessings granted by an all-wise and
+benevolent CREATOR, that He has bestowed upon man an intellectual and
+physical capacity, which enables him to pass in comparative happiness many
+a lonely hour. Many were the aërial maps and charts laid down for our
+future journeyings through life, and plans formed, which were never to be
+realized. And perhaps all was for the best; for we are all creatures of
+circumstance. Not one in a thousand follows out his plans through life.
+Half of our existence is imaginary; and wise-acres may scoff as much as
+they please at what they term 'castle-building,' I believe all mankind
+indulge in it more or less; and it is an innocent, harmless pastime, which
+injures no one. I consider it the 'unwritten poetry,' the romance of life,
+which all feel; but many, like the dumb, strive in vain to give utterance
+to their thoughts.
+
+Many of the prisoners busied themselves in making some trifling article,
+which, while it afforded amusement, aided in obtaining for them a little
+money, and thereby added to their comfort. Many of the most ingenious
+specimens of art I ever saw were made there; some of which were models of
+vessels, of various classes, from the clipper-built brig to the
+line-of-battle ship; made too of beef bones, obtained from the cook. They
+were built up precisely like a large vessel; human hair twisted into ropes
+of suitable sizes being employed for rigging. When completed, they made a
+beautiful toy. Desks, work-boxes, etc., were also made here; violins, some
+of which were of excellent tone, were likewise constructed. But it would
+be useless to enumerate the endless variety of queer things made at this
+multifarious manufactory. Some organized a music-society, with various
+instruments, and used occasionally to give concerts; others got up a
+theatre, screening it off with bed covering. I recollect some pretty good
+performances among them. In short, all were employed in some way, to
+divert their minds from the contemplation of their miserable condition.
+Some would read while others listened; some practice fencing; some sing,
+some dance. Others would relate their adventures, many of which savored
+rather too strongly of the marvellous to be readily believed, while others
+partook in an equal degree of the ludicrous. One of these latter was
+related by 'Old John Young'--a tale of his early courtship. In his
+youthful days he lived somewhere in Pennsylvania, where also resided an
+old farmer, with his wife and two daughters, one of whom, contrary to the
+old gentleman's wishes, he used to visit. One night while there, unknown
+to the old people, they having retired, a huge pot of mush was left
+boiling over the fire, getting ready for the next day. Late in the evening
+the old gentleman called out for the girls to go to bed; and as they did
+not retire in time to suit him, he began to stir round, to see why his
+orders were not obeyed. Young, hearing him coming, took off his shoes to
+prevent a noise, and glided silently up a ladder into the loft above. The
+old farmer, having sent the girls to bed, lifted off the boiling pot,
+which by accident he placed at the foot of the ladder; then putting out
+the light, and covering the fire, he retired again to bed. When all was
+still and quiet, Young, with shoes in hand, stole down the ladder, and
+landed in the pot! Although badly burned, he escaped in some degree by
+having his stockings on. He left his tracks on the floor, but got out of
+the house unobserved. He had 'put his foot in it' in good earnest; and
+mounting his horse, he bade a final adieu to the old farmer and his
+family.
+
+Winter was now pretty well advanced, and many suffered for the want of
+clothing. After considerable delay, however, a small portion was sparingly
+dealt out, but was accepted by those only who stood in the utmost need.
+The cause was, that the agent or contractor, having a quantity of garments
+on hand, over what had been a sufficient supply for some English convicts,
+who had been confined here at some former period, they were now offered to
+us, but were rejected by all who could do without them. Those who did
+receive them, cut a curious figure! I can almost imagine one standing
+before me now, dressed in a jacket and trowsers of bright yellow cloth;
+and as they were served out indiscriminately, the consequence was, that
+large stalwart men were crammed into trowsers which looked more like
+breeches, and jackets with sleeves terminating at the elbows; and small
+men with jackets, the sleeves of which dangled far below the hands, and an
+extra length of pantaloons turned up to the knees; the whole figure
+surmounted by a knit-woollen cap, resembling an inverted wash-basin;
+coarse brogans completed the costume. Just pause a moment, reader, and
+contemplate the figure!
+
+What with starving and freezing, many became ill, and had to be removed to
+the hospital. This was what all dreaded; and the consequence was, they
+were so far gone before they went, that they survived but a short time
+after getting there, although it was understood that the physician was a
+skilful and humane man, and did all in his power to alleviate their
+distress. I was taken very ill with the dysentery. I know of no disease
+which brings a man down more rapidly. Two or three days weakened me so
+much that I could scarcely move; and with it came a despondency of mind
+that was almost insupportable. I had been for years a wayfarer in strange
+lands, but never, during the whole time, did I so forcibly feel the want
+of a home, and the solace and care of friends, as now. How did I long to
+be once more under my father's roof, with an affectionate mother and kind
+sister! I had a sad forboding that I should soon be numbered among the
+multitude whose spirits had ascended from their prison-house, and whose
+bodies were deposited outside the walls, in the ground assigned for that
+purpose.
+
+The small-pox had also appeared in our midst, spreading havoc on all
+sides; and despair seemed to rule triumphant. Of those who left for the
+hospital, but few returned to their comrades. Among those taken ill, was a
+young man who had been brought up on a farm. Like many others, he had left
+home to 'go a-privateering,' and was taken prisoner. He never saw home
+again. He messed just opposite to me, and was I think one of the most
+exquisite amateur performers on the violin that I ever heard. For hours
+have I listened with rapture to his delightful music. He was absent a day,
+and his instrument was silent. The next day I enquired for him; he had
+been taken suddenly ill, was removed to the hospital, and the second
+evening brought me tidings of his death. There was another one, who had
+been for weeks sullen and gloomy. Despair seemed to have thrown its pall
+over him. He conversed with none, but shunning his companions, spent the
+day muttering to himself. Early one morning he was discovered in a
+secluded part of the prison, cold and stiff. He had hung himself.
+
+And was there no one to look after the spiritual or temporal welfare of
+this mass of isolated beings? Was there none to soothe the troubled mind,
+to cheer the drooping spirit, nor to whisper hope in the ear of the
+desponding? Was there none of God's 'messengers of glad tidings' to offer
+consolation to the dying, and a prayer for mercy on the departing spirit
+of his suffering fellow-being? No; not one minister of the gospel, of any
+denomination, did I see while I was there; nor did I hear of any having
+been there, at any time; nor was there any person to see that the
+prisoners had suitable beds and clothing, or that their food was
+wholesome, during the many months that I was there. I was told that REUBEN
+G. BEASLY, who was appointed by our government, and who received its pay
+to see to American interests, had been there some months before, but had
+done nothing for them; and to the letters of remonstrance written to him,
+stating their wants, their insufficiency of food and clothing, etc., he
+turned a deaf ear. He did not deign a reply to them; and what more could
+be expected of a man who could be so base as to do what I will here state?
+
+About three years ago I met an old ship-mate. We went to India in the same
+ship. He held a midshipman's warrant in the United States' navy, and went
+out on this voyage for practice in seamanship. He was made prisoner at the
+same time I was. In the shiftings and changes which took place, we were
+separated; and when I saw him, several years after, he stated that after
+parting with me he remained in London, endeavoring in vain to get
+employment on board some ship; that becoming destitute, he went to Mr.
+Beasly, (_Beastly_ it should be,) to get advice and assistance, stating
+who and what he was; and that, in consequence of the unsettled mode of
+life in which he had been living, he had unfortunately lost his warrant;
+and urged him, as an act of humanity, to point out some method whereby he
+might help himself. He turned away from him with indifference, saying he
+could do nothing for him. After a lapse of several days, finding no hope
+of extricating himself from his embarrassed situation, as a last resource
+he went once more to Mr. Beasly, and asked assistance. The reply was: 'Be
+off! and if you trouble me again I will put you on board of an English
+man-of-war!' This gentleman[1] is now Lieutenant Commandant in our navy.
+He told me he had seen Mr. Beasly not long before, in his official
+capacity as consul at Havre, but did not make himself known to him. Is it
+not strange, that one who was so regardless of the duties of his office
+and the feelings of humanity should hold so lucrative and responsible a
+situation as the one which he enjoys to this day? There have been serious
+complaints made against him, within a year or two, by several respectable
+captains of vessels.
+
+    [1] STEPHEN B. WILSON, Esq.
+
+The number of prisoners on my arrival at the dépôt I understood to amount
+to about three thousand; notwithstanding the deaths had gradually
+increased, the number was kept good by detachments sent in from time to
+time, many of them from English ships of war, who had been impressed into
+the service; and although they had frequently asked for a discharge, they
+could not get it until the European war had ended, and there was but
+little farther use for them. But they obtained their dismissal, and with
+it the pay and prize-money due to them at the time.
+
+Such occasions afforded a kind of jubilee, as the money they brought was
+soon put in circulation through the prisons, from whence it speedily
+evaporated, being spent in provisions, vegetables, and fruits, brought
+there by the country-people for sale, and for which an enormous price was
+paid. Many of the men thus delivered up, had spent several years of the
+prime of life in fighting the battles of a foreign nation, and were then
+dismissed with the most brutal treatment. As an instance: a man by the
+name of SLATER, a tall, robust man, just such an one as they like to get
+hold of, in the service where he had been several years, had made frequent
+but unavailing applications for a discharge. At length when the war broke
+out, he made more urgent solicitations for a release. The answer was,
+'Yes, you shall have it; but we will first give you something to remember
+us by.' And tying him up, they gave him three dozen lashes, and sent him
+to Dartmoor. Such was the reward of his services!
+
+
+
+
+THE SONG OF DEATH.
+
+
+  I.
+
+  Silent and swift as the flight of Time,
+  I've come from a far and shadowy clime;
+  With brow serene and a cloudless eye,
+  Like the star that shines in the midnight sky;
+  I check the sigh, and I dry the tear;
+  Mortals! why turn from my path in fear?
+
+
+  II.
+
+  The fair flower smiled on my tireless way,
+  I paused to kiss it in summer's day,
+  That when the storm in its strength swept by
+  It might not be torn from its covert nigh;
+  I bear its hues on my shining wing,
+  Its fragrance and light around me cling.
+
+
+  III.
+
+  I passed the brow that had learned to wear
+  The crown of sorrow--the silver hair;
+  Weary and faint with the woes of life,
+  The tempest-breath and fever-strife,
+  The old man welcomed the gentle friend
+  Who bade the storm and the conflict end.
+
+
+  IV.
+
+  I looked where the fountains of gladness start,
+  On the love of the pure and trusting heart;
+  On the cheek like summer roses fair,
+  And the changeful light of the waving hair;
+  Earth had no cloud for her joyous eye,
+  But I saw the shade in the future's sky.
+
+
+  V.
+
+  I saw the depths of her spirit wrung,
+  The music fled, and the harp unstrung;
+  The love intense she had treasured there,
+  Like fragrance shed on the desert air:
+  I bore her to deathless love away;
+  Oh! why do ye mourn for the young to-day?
+
+
+  VI.
+
+  I paused by the couch where the poet lay,
+  Mid fancies bright on their sparing way;
+  The tide of song in his heaving breast
+  Flowed strong and free in its deep unrest;
+  His soul was thirsting for things divine--
+  I led him far to the sacred shrine.
+
+
+  VII.
+
+  The sage looked forth on the starry sky,
+  With aspiring thoughts and visions high,
+  He sought a gift and a lore sublime
+  To raise the veil from the shores of Time,
+  To pierce the clouds o'er the soul that lie;
+  I bade him soar with a cherub's eye.
+
+
+  VIII.
+
+  And now, neath my folded wing I bear
+  A spotless soul like the lily fair;
+  The babe on its mother's bosom slept;
+  Ere I bore it far, I paused and wept;
+  'T was an angel strayed from its fairer home:
+  Peace to the mourner!--I come! I come!
+
+_Shelter-Island._                                       MARY GARDINER.
+
+
+
+
+MARY MAY: THE NEWFOUNDLAND INDIAN.
+
+BY A NEW CONTRIBUTOR.
+
+
+The tribe of aborigines to which MARY MAY, the heroine of our little
+sketch, belonged, has been named by the Newfoundlanders, 'Red Indians;'
+for what reason, I could never learn. This tribe, or probably the
+miserable remnant of it, since the English have settled the island has
+been regarded as altogether remarkable and undefinable. They have never,
+in a single instance, been induced to visit the white settler since
+British subjects have resided there. Little is known of their numbers,
+habits, or general spirit, although the most sedulous exertions have been
+made to bring about an amicable understanding and a reciprocal
+intercourse. They have chosen to remain isolated and insolated; keeping
+their history, their wisdom, and their deeds to themselves. They will hold
+no communion with others of their own race. There are the Esquimaux, very
+near their northern boundary; a people disposed to extend the rites of
+hospitality in peace, and a trading tribe; but these have no more
+knowledge of the 'Red Indian' than the white man; and they remain wrapt up
+in a historical mantle as dark as the shades of their own impenetrable
+complexion.
+
+Much, of a marvellous character, has been said about the Red Indians. The
+fishermen of the island, as a mass, believe that these poor creatures are
+semi-human. They will tell you of their having been seen one moment
+cooking their venison, and composedly regaling themselves, and the next,
+upon learning the contiguity of the white man, they would vanish from
+sight, and not a trace could be found of their departure; that they
+descend far under ground in winter, and lead a kind of fairy life; that
+they have power to change themselves into birds and fishes, and to sustain
+life for hours together under water. But all this is of course unnatural
+and absurd. The Indians of Newfoundland are flesh and blood, and partake,
+in common with other races of rational beings, of properties holding them
+within 'delegated limits of power.' And in my opinion, they are as much
+entitled to a character of consistency as the generality of tribes on our
+continent. The secret of their shyness, and their unsocial and vindictive
+disposition, may better be accounted for, from the probable fact that they
+were inhumanly treated by the early discoverers of the island, the
+Portuguese and Spaniards. These monsters without doubt butchered and made
+havock of these poor natives as they did the South American Indians, and
+indeed wherever their lawless adventures led them, in this new world.
+
+Various governors have been appointed to the Newfoundland station since
+Great-Britain has possessed the island, and all have used more than
+ordinary means to reach the Red Indians, and reconcile them to the
+pale-faces, who have taken possession of the bays and harbors of their
+bold and rugged coast. The last, of any magnitude, that was made, was
+during the summer of 1830, and immediately preceding the administration of
+Sir Thomas Cochran. It consisted of a regular exploring expedition,
+numbering about fifty persons, a part of whom were regular soldiers, and a
+part volunteer citizens, which left St. John's, the capital of the island,
+with instructions to explore the interior, and traverse every portion of
+it in quest of the Indians, and to bring some back with them; but to use
+no cruelty, unless absolutely necessary. After traversing the internal
+wilds for some ten days, the expedition discovered smoke in the distance,
+and in a few hours came upon a party of Indians in their wigwams. The red
+men were greatly surprised, and appeared much alarmed. But upon being
+presented with some showy ornaments, accompanied by smiles, and other
+friendly indications, their fears somewhat subsided, and two of them
+became apparently willing to accompany the expedition into St. John's, on
+learning by signs that two of the white men would remain as guarantees of
+their good treatment and return. The white men left were supplied with a
+large quantity of ornaments and trinkets to distribute among other Indians
+whom they might find during the absence of their party, a period which was
+not to be prolonged beyond a month. The good-bye was given, and the
+expedition started on their return home. It had not travelled many hours
+before an uncontrollable disposition seized them to go back again to the
+spot of separation to see if all was well, for some declared that they had
+a presentiment that there had already been foul play. Back they went, and
+when they reached the spot where good wishes had just been interchanged,
+the first spectacle which met their eyes was the mutilated dead bodies of
+their faithful hostages! Without any consultation, or a moment's delay,
+the commander of the expedition ordered the two Indians in their keeping
+to be shot, and their bodies left exposed, as they had found those of
+their comrades. This order was promptly executed.
+
+Soon after Sir Thomas Cochran was appointed governor of Newfoundland, he
+offered a reward of one hundred pounds for the harmless capture of a Red
+Indian, the person to be brought him at the capital. This reward was
+advertised in the summer of 1832; and the next spring a fisherman, at a
+distant, unfrequented part of the island, saw on a pleasant afternoon a
+young female Indian, laving at the edge of the water. She was alone, and
+unconscious of danger, and went through the offices of the bath with
+singular grace and activity. After watching her for some time, he took his
+measures for her capture. He first cut off her retreat, then approached
+her carefully, and at the instant of surprise, obtained possession of her
+person. She made no resistance, but acted as one paralyzed by fear or
+wonder. He brought her to Sir Thomas, and received his reward. It being
+the month of May when she was captured, she was given the name of MARY
+MAY. She was apparently about eighteen years of age; an angelic creature,
+tall, with perfect symetry of proportion, agreeable features, good
+complexion, and as agile and graceful as a fawn. The governor and the
+officers of the garrison, and the élite of St. Johns, vied with each other
+in plans and devices for her gratification. She was taken to parties, to
+the theatre, to military reviews; in short, she was flattered, caressed,
+and made the reigning belle. But the poor Indian showed an almost blank
+indifference to the various schemes devised for her pleasure. She was not
+_at home_. Every face, every habit, every object was new, and appeared
+strange to her. She undoubtedly pined to go back again into the dark wilds
+among her own people. Perhaps her heart, that wonderful controller of
+human destiny, was in the keeping of some extolled brave: at all events,
+it was not in the scenes that were passing before her; and the efforts so
+generously put forth for her amusement and happiness were like the crystal
+droppings upon the hard insensible stone, falling in full profusion, but
+leaving no impress.
+
+Mary was detained about a year, and was then given in charge of the
+fisherman who captured her, with express directions that she should be
+taken to the spot where he found her, and there be left to her own
+guidance. She was richly clad and profusely decorated before she was given
+her liberty, and was furnished with a large quantity of finery for
+distribution among the members of her tribe. It was hoped that this
+treatment, when communicated by one of their own blood, would cause a
+change of feeling among the Red Indians, and that gradually a reciprocity
+of confidence and intercourse would be established. But this experiment
+and this hope proved futile and delusive. In 1836 I left the island of
+Newfoundland, and up to that time not a glimpse of the red race had
+flitted across the vision of civilization since the dark captive was
+permitted again to bound over hill and dale without let or hindrance. Many
+idle reports and tales were circulated about Mary May, after meeting with
+her tribe; but little reliance is placed upon them, as they are for the
+most part contradictory, and strongly savor of the marvellous. But I will
+give the reader one, which is as well authenticated as any, and quite as
+probable.
+
+On the second day after Mary was liberated, she found a portion of her
+people; and when they first saw her, they were much alarmed, judging from
+her fanciful, brilliant habiliments that she was some celestial visiter.
+But hearing their own language addressed to them, the parentage of the
+girl, and the cause of her absence, they became gradually calm, and
+curiosity took the place of fear, and this gave place to admiration, until
+the lost one was fairly constituted by acclamation a goddess, and to her
+surprise and grief, worshiped as such! The daughter's return had been
+communicated to the father, with such exaggerations and extravagances as
+pertain to the grossly superstitious; and he, instead of falling upon his
+child's neck, and receiving her as the lost found, came bowing and doing
+reverence and worship. Mary was bewildered, and almost wished herself back
+again with the pale-faces.
+
+But there was one link in the chain of her destiny yet to be proved; if
+_that_ should be found true, she had not returned in vain. About a year
+previous to her capture, on a sunny afternoon, she had strayed a mile or
+two from her father's camp, invited partly by the romance of her own
+nature, and partly by the novelty of new scenery, opened up by a change of
+camping-ground. While hesitating concerning her return, and gracefully
+leaning against a young sapling, she heard a rustling of leaves near her;
+and quickly directing her eyes to the spot whence the alarm came, she saw
+with terror a full-grown panther steadily and cautiously approaching her.
+She had no weapon of defence, and Indian though she was, had never
+participated in blood and strife. She knew that flight would be vain, for
+what human being could outrun a hungry panther? She raised one
+alarm-whoop, and awaited her fate. At the loud, piercing cry, the fierce
+animal seemed alarmed in his turn, and paused in his progress. But after
+some five minutes, he recovered his courage, and was making ready for the
+fatal spring, when an arrow pierced his heart; and the next moment a
+young, athletic brave sprang from the thicket, and clasped the dark damsel
+to his breast. She remained an instant, passive and bewildered; the next,
+she sprang from the embrace of the stranger, and with Indian dignity
+thanked him for his kind and timely aid. She then turned her face toward
+her father's camp, and with the fleetness of an antelope passed the
+intervening space, and soon found herself safe in her changing habitation.
+
+But notwithstanding the assumed dignity and apparent coldness with which
+she addressed the young stranger, Mary in that moment of rescue was
+awakened to a new and impassioned existence. The image of the stranger was
+before her by day and in her dreams by night. Six or eight months passed,
+when the chiefs of the tribe celebrated a great festival, to which all the
+members were invited. The ceremonies were to last a week; many did not
+arrive until after the first day, and the father of Mary, and his camp,
+were of this number. But toward the evening of the first day of the
+festivities, a tall, graceful young brave stalked into the assembly, and
+with cool solicitude scanned the faces of the female visiters; and not
+appearing satisfied, he folded his arms upon his breast, and leaning
+against a rude post, listlessly observed the sports. But a close observer
+would have seen his eye lit up with unwonted interest when any new arrival
+was announced. No one knew him; his dress was peculiar; still he spoke
+their language, and the old chiefs passed him by for a future examination.
+
+On the second day of the gathering, toward noon, Mary May arrived, and
+with her father, mother and sisters, entered that enclosure of merry
+hearts. She hoped to see at the festival the youth who had so strongly
+impressed her; and the moment she entered the rude structure, her eyes
+eagerly ranged round the assembly until they rested upon the person of her
+rescuer, who as eagerly returned her significant glance. During the
+continuance of the feast and frolic, the lovers had many interviews; and
+before it closed, their faith and vows were exchanged. They were to have
+been married the month after her capture; and now, since her return and
+deification, she had not learned a word about her 'brave,' and had come to
+the determination if he proved false to destroy herself. Day after day
+passed without the presence of the only one who could drive the dark cloud
+from her mind, and it was becoming every day more dense and oppressive,
+until she gave way to utter despondency, and bitterly bewailed her fate.
+One afternoon, about two months after her return, while some of her
+kindred were bowing before her in heathenish worship, hasty steps were
+heard approaching; the next moment the young brave appeared and clasped
+his lost treasure to his heart; and taking advantage of the bewilderment
+of the worshippers, occasioned by his sudden appearance, the happy pair
+escaped to the sea-coast, and passing over a portion of the bay, found a
+secure retreat among the Mickmacs, to which tribe the young brave
+belonged.
+
+And there may they rest. I sometimes, though quite infrequently, meet with
+some one from Newfoundland; and among the first questions I ask is one
+touching the 'Red Indians;' and although I have not heard any thing which
+went to confirm the hope that they may yet be brought to place confidence
+in the white man, yet I still trust that I shall; and when this result is
+brought about, or any other thing of interest shall be learned of these
+strange mortals, I shall take much pleasure in communicating the
+information, for the benefit of the readers of the KNICKERBOCKER.
+
+
+
+
+BIRTH-DAY MEDITATIONS.
+
+
+    I stand upon the wave that marks the round
+    Of Life's dark-heaving and revolving years;
+    Still sweeping onward from Youth's sunny ground,
+    Still changed and chequered with my joys and fears,
+    And colored from the past, where Thought careers,
+    Shadowing the ashes in pale Memory's urn;
+    Where perished buds were laid, with frequent tears,
+    That on the cheek of Disappointment burn,
+  As blessed hours roll on, that never may return.
+
+    What have they seen, those changed and vanish'd years?
+    Uplifted, soaring thoughts, all quelled by fate;
+    Affection, mournful in its gushing tears;
+    And midst the crowd that at the funeral wait,
+    A widowed mother's heart made desolate
+    O'er a war-honor'd Sire's low place of rest;
+    These are the tales that Memory may relate:
+    They have a moral for the aspiring breast,
+  A lesson of Decay on earthliness impress'd.
+
+    Yet Hope still chaunts unto the listening ear
+    The witching music of her treacherous song;
+    Still paints the Future eloquent and clear,
+    And sees the tide of Life roll calm along,
+    Where glittering phantoms rise, a luring throng;
+    And voiceful Fame holds out the laurel bough:
+    Where rapturous applause is loud and long,
+    Frail guerdon for the heart!--which lights the brow
+  With the ephemeral smile of Mind's triumphant glow.
+
+                                                                    C.
+
+
+
+
+THE HOUSEHOLDER.
+
+BY JOHN WATERS.
+
+    'For the kingdom of Heaven is like unto a man that is an
+    householder, which went out early in the morning to hire labourers
+    into his vineyard. And when he had agreed with the labourers for a
+    penny a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And he went out about
+    the third hour, and saw others standing in the market-place, and
+    said unto them; Go ye also into the vineyard, and whatsoever is
+    right I will give you; and they went their way. Again he went out
+    about the sixth and ninth hour, and did likewise. And about the
+    eleventh hour he went out and found others standing idle, and
+    saith unto them, Why stand ye here all the day idle? They say unto
+    him, Because no man hath hired us. He saith unto them. Go ye also
+    into the vineyard; and whatsoever is right that shall ye
+    receive.'--ST. MATTHEW: XX, 1-7.
+
+
+  O thou blest Householder! the starry dawn,
+  The light crepuscular, the roseate morn,
+    Long since had melted into day!
+  Long since the glow of Youth's THIRD hour,
+  And the bird's song, and Fancy's magic power,
+    Long since have, traceless, pass'd away!
+
+  Ent'reth the sun into its zenith height!
+  Ent'reth the mortal into manhood's might!
+    Op'neth again the vineyard Gate
+  And Labourers are call'd! but Honour's dream
+  Entranc'd my soul, and made Religion seem
+    As nought, Glory was man's Estate!
+
+  The NINTH hour found me in the market place;
+  Fierce passion ruled my heart, care mark'd my face;
+    In vain, in vain, Thy blessed call!
+  To glitter, to achieve, to lose or gain,
+  Form'd every hope, or thought, delight, or pain:
+    The world, the world, was still my All!
+
+  The TENTH hour sounded in my startled ear!
+  Thy gracious Spirit touched my heart with fear!
+    The harvest ended with the day;
+  That thought imbued my mind--'not saved? too late?'
+  I left the throng; I sought the Vineyard Gate;
+    'Twas shut-- Death-struck, I turn'd away!
+
+  Low sank the Sun adown the Western Sky!
+  Each cherish'd hope had prov'd its vanity!
+    Now neither Earth, nor Heaven was mine.
+  Rejected, sad, abandon'd, and forlorn;
+  Of God it seem'd not lov'd; of Hell, the scorn!
+    No hope, or human or Divine,
+
+  Brighten'd my dark, cold, doubting, wretched mind;
+  The world, a wilderness; Heaven's self, unkind!
+    'Blackness of darkness' seem'd my way:
+  Slow struck the ELEVENTH! Thy light around me broke!
+  And deep, unto my soul, these words were spoke:
+    'Why stand ye idle all the day?'
+
+  'Enter and work through the waning hour!'--
+  Lord of the Vineyard! grant Thy servant power
+    To labour, love Thee, and obey.
+  Let every thought, plan, word, deed, wish, be Thine!
+  Thine be all honour, glory, praise divine,
+    And let thy pardon close my day!
+
+
+
+
+THE QUOD CORRESPONDENCE.
+
+Harry Harson.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+On the day but one after Rust's death, Mr. Kornicker was very busy in his
+office. His coat was off; his hat was on a chair, and in it was his
+snuff-box, a black silk neckcloth, and a white handkerchief, not a little
+discolored by the presence of snuff and the absence of water. In one
+corner of the room lay a confused heap, consisting of bed, bedding, and
+various odds and ends of wearing apparel; and from these Mr. Kornicker,
+after due reflection and calculation as to the order in which to make his
+choice, selected article after article. First, he spread upon the floor
+his counterpane, then his blanket, then a sheet not a little akin in
+appearance to his handkerchief, and then his bed: upon these he piled his
+apparel, in a confused heap, and proceeded to roll the whole into a large
+ball, which he secured with a piece of rope. 'Now then, the moving's
+begun,' said he, opening the door and rolling the bundle into the entry.
+'The premises are ready for the next tenant.'
+
+Having brushed his knees with the palm of his hands, and then dusted his
+hands by knocking them together, he put on his neckcloth, coat, and hat;
+pocketed his snuff-box and handkerchief, walked into the entry, locked the
+door, put the key over it, as he had always been in the habit of doing;
+seated himself upon his bundle, with his back leaning against the wall;
+and immediately lapsed into a fit of deep abstraction, which he
+occasionally relieved by kicking his heels against the floor, shaking his
+head, in a sudden and emphatic manner, or inhaling his breath rapidly and
+violently, producing a sound blending the harmonious qualities of a snort
+and a whistle.
+
+'So,' said he, after indulging in one of the last mentioned performances
+with so much energy as to arouse him from his abstraction, at the same
+time nodding his head at Rust's office, '_his_ cake being dough, our
+bargain's up; and here am I, Edward Kornicker, Esquire, attorney and
+counsellor at law, a man of profound experience, severe knowledge of the
+world, of great capacity in various ways, though of small means--I think I
+may say of d----d small means--once more in the market; for sale to the
+highest bidder. Such a valuable commodity is not met with every day. If
+any gentleman,' continued he, raising his hand and looking round at an
+imaginary audience, 'is extremely desirous of securing the eminent talents
+of one of the most prominent young men of the day--not exactly new,' added
+he, running his eye over his rusty coat, 'but wonderfully serviceable; no
+cracks, nor flaws, no pieces broken off--here is an opportunity which will
+not occur again. This is only a scratch on the surface,' said he, as he
+thrust his finger into a small hole in his coat-sleeve; 'the article
+itself is warranted to be perfectly sound, and of the best quality. How
+much is bid?--how much for the promising young man aforesaid? How much?
+One thousand dollars? Five hundred? Two fifty?--one?--fifty? It wont do,'
+said he, in a melancholy tone; 'strike him down to me. The gentleman's
+bought himself in; there being no demand for the article in this market,
+he thinks of disposing of himself to some respectable widow lady with a
+small family and a large purse. He may alter his mind, but that's his
+present intention.'
+
+Here Mr. Kornicker concluded his rather extraordinary soliloquy by
+plunging his hands in his pockets, and dropping into a subdued whistle; in
+the course of which his thoughts seemed to have taken altogether a
+different channel; for it was not long before he said, as if in
+continuance of some unuttered train of thought:
+
+'Well, old fellow, I promised you to look after your girl, although you
+didn't seem much struck with the offer. But I'll stick to my promise;
+although, to tell the truth, I don't exactly know how to commence. But
+nothing will be done by sitting on this bundle. So I'll to my work at
+once.'
+
+He rose up hastily, and was descending the stairs when he abruptly turned
+back, went up to his luggage, and after eyeing it for a minute, said:
+
+'It's a hazardous business to leave you here. You can't be distrained on,
+nor levied on, because you're exempt by law. So you are safe from
+landlords and creditors; the law makes you exempt from being stolen too;
+but thieves consider themselves like members of parliament, out of the
+reach of law. There's the rub. You might be stolen; and I very much regret
+to say, that the gentleman who should lay violent hands on you would walk
+off with all my goods, chattels, lands, tenements, and hereditaments; but
+I've no where to take you, and as I expect to sleep in this entry, you
+must take your chance. So, good bye, old acquaintance, in case you and I
+should never meet again.'
+
+Having in a very grave manner shaken one corner of the counterpane, as if
+it were the hand of an old friend, he gave his head a sudden jerk, to
+settle his hat in the right place, and descended the stairs.
+
+The task which Kornicker had imposed upon himself was by no means easy;
+but firm in his purpose of fulfilling his promise, he shut his eyes to all
+difficulties, and commenced his pursuit.
+
+The first place to which he went was the prison, for he hoped that the
+keeper of it might know something about her, or that she might have left
+her address there, in case her father wished to see her when he was
+imprisoned. But he was disappointed. They could tell him nothing, except
+that Rust neither asked for her, nor mentioned her, and had always refused
+to see her. She had never succeeded in gaining admittance to him, except
+on the night of his death, when the jailer, a fellow unfit for his office,
+for he had some human feeling left, unable to resist her tears and
+entreaties, had let her in unannounced, as mentioned in the last chapter.
+She had left the cell abruptly, had hurried off, and had never returned.
+'God help the poor child!' exclaimed the man, as he told the story. 'Such
+hearts as hers were made for heaven, not for this world. I have a daughter
+of her age; and even if she had robbed a church, I couldn't have treated
+her as that man treated his child.'
+
+The man looked at Kornicker, as if to observe the effect of his last
+remark; but probably that gentleman viewed the robbing of a church in a
+less heinous light than the jailer, for he made no comment on it, but
+after a pause said:
+
+'So that's all you know?'
+
+The man nodded.
+
+'Good morning to you, Sir,' said Kornicker; and he walked straight out of
+the building, and had crossed several streets before he had made up his
+mind what to do next. This however was soon settled, and he buttoned his
+coat tightly, pulled his hat firmly on his head, drew on a pair of shabby
+gloves, and performed a number of those little acts which in ancient times
+were known under the head of 'girding up the loins,' preparatory to
+setting out to his next point of destination, which was the girl's former
+home, the place where Rust had committed the murder. It was many miles
+off; and the distance which Rust, under the whip and spur of fierce
+passions, had traversed without trace of fatigue, drew from his clerk many
+a sigh, and many an expression of weariness.
+
+When he got there he found the house deserted. He entered it, for there
+was no one there to hinder it, but the rooms were empty and dismantled.
+The house had been hired by Rust, and no sooner was he in the gripe of the
+law, than creditors innumerable, who like birds of prey were biding their
+time, kept in check by the unbending character of their debtor, came
+flitting in from every quarter; seized and sold the furniture, and left
+the house desolate. A single dark stain upon the library floor, where the
+murdered man had fallen, was all that was left to tell a tale of the past.
+The dust had gathered thickly on the walls, as if preparing to commence a
+slumber of years; and as Kornicker went out, the rats raced through the
+hall, startled at the tread of a stranger.
+
+With a heart as heavy as his limbs, as he thought of the past life of the
+girl who had once tenanted this house, and then fancied what her present
+fate must be, Kornicker set out on his return. 'If it had been me,' said
+he, pausing to take a last look at the lonely house, 'if it had only been
+Edward Kornicker who was thus cast adrift, to kick his way through the
+world with empty pockets, and without a soul to say to him God speed, or
+'I'm sorry for you,' it would have been right and proper, and no one would
+have any cause to grumble or find fault; but this being a girl, with no
+money, and consequently with no friends, no experience, as _I_ have, it's
+a very hard case--a very hard case, indeed.'
+
+Having arrived at this conclusion, Kornicker took off his hat, wiped his
+forehead, snuffed, and set out on his return.
+
+Day after day for several weeks he prosecuted his inquiries without
+success; and just when he was in despair, chance led him to success. In
+the course of his rambles, he encountered a person who had been at Rust's
+trial, and happened to speak about him; for now that the criminal was dead
+and in his grave, when public opinion could be of no service to him, many
+who had hunted him down began to view less harshly the crime which had led
+to his death; and this man was one of the number. He said that, although
+he deserved punishment for his previous evil deeds, yet the best and
+purest act of his life had been that by which he had struck down the
+destroyer of his child.
+
+'Poor thing!' said he, 'she must have led a miserable life since her
+father's death. I have met her several times since then in the street, but
+that was several weeks ago; and then she was very feeble, scarcely able to
+walk: perhaps she's dead now.'
+
+Kornicker waited only long enough to ascertain that she lived in a certain
+out-of-the-way part of the town, which the man designated, and thither he
+directed his steps, and resumed his search; and after several days spent
+in fruitless inquiries, he discovered her.
+
+The house in which he found her was a small ruinous building, sagged and
+jutting forward, as if struggling to sustain itself against time and
+dilapidation. The windows were broken; the doors and shutters unhung,
+except a solitary one of the latter, which creaked as it flapped to and
+fro in the wind; and this was the home of Rust's child.
+
+Kornicker ascended the ricketty stairs and paused at the door of a room,
+which a slipshod woman had pointed out as that of the 'murderer's
+daughter.' He knocked, but there was no reply; he knocked again, but all
+was silent. Then he opened the door and looked in.
+
+It was a small dingy room, unfurnished, with the exception of a bed on the
+floor, and a single chair, on which stood a candle whose flaring light
+served only to add to the gloom of the room by revealing its wretchedness.
+The girl was in bed; her hair lying in tangled masses about the pillow.
+Her cheeks were sunken and colorless, and her eyes deep-set and glowing,
+as if all that was left of life was concentrated in them.
+
+Kornicker hesitated for a moment, and then pushed the door open and walked
+in. The girl looked listlessly up, but did not notice him; for she turned
+her head away with a weary, restless motion, and did not speak. Kornicker
+went to the bed, got on his knees beside it, and took her hand in his. As
+he did so he observed that it was very thin and shrunken, and that the
+large veins stood out like cords. It was hot as fire. 'You're very ill,'
+said he, in a low tone. 'I'm afraid you're very ill.'
+
+'I'm dying of thirst,' said the girl, pointing to an empty pitcher, which
+stood on the floor. 'Give me water; the want of it is driving me mad. No
+one has been near me to-day. I tried to get it myself, but could not
+stand.'
+
+Kornicker waited to hear no more, but seizing the pitcher, darted out to a
+pump, and in a very few minutes came back again with it filled to the
+brim. The girl's eye grew even more lustrous than before, as she saw it,
+and she attempted to rise, but was unable.
+
+'You must excuse ceremony,' said Kornicker, as he placed his arm under her
+back and supported her while he held the pitcher to her lips. 'Nursing
+isn't in my line.'
+
+The girl swallowed the water greedily, and then sank back on the pillow
+exhausted.
+
+'Have you a doctor?' inquired Kornicker, placing the pitcher on the floor.
+
+'No,' answered she feebly; 'I have no money: the last went yesterday. I'm
+deserted by all now.'
+
+'Not quite,' exclaimed Kornicker, slapping his hand earnestly on his knee,
+while he experienced a choking sensation about the throat; 'not while I'm
+left. I'm sorry I a'nt a woman, for your sake; but as I don't happen to
+be, I hope you'll make no objections on that score; I'll look after you as
+if you were my own sister.'
+
+It was the first word of kindness that the girl had heard for a long time,
+and the tears came in her eyes.
+
+'There, there, don't cry,' said Kornicker. 'It bothers me; I don't know
+what to do when women cry. But you haven't a doctor; that will never do.
+Keep up your heart,' said he, rising; 'I'll return presently.' Saying
+this, and without waiting for a reply, he left the room.
+
+Arriving in the street, his first impulse was not only to feel in his
+pockets, but with the utmost care to turn them inside out, and to examine
+them narrowly.
+
+'Not a copper--pockets to let!' said he, restoring them to their former
+condition, after a long and unsuccessful search. 'But this girl must be
+looked after; that's settled. Now then,' said he, in a very meditative
+mood, 'who's able to do it and _will_?'
+
+This seemed a question not easily answered, for he stood for more than a
+minute in profound thought, in endeavoring to solve it; but apparently
+making up his mind, he hurried along the street. The direction which he
+took was toward the upper part of the city, and he was some time in
+reaching his destination, which was no other than Harry Harson's house. He
+crossed the court-yard and knocked at the door, which was opened by
+Harson.
+
+'I want a word with you,' said Kornicker, abruptly.
+
+Harson told him to come in; led the way to his sitting-room, and pointing
+to a chair, told him to be seated.
+
+'I haven't time,' said Kornicker, shaking his head. 'Do you know me?'
+
+'I've seen you, but I can't recollect where.'
+
+'_Here_,' said Kornicker, 'here, in this room. I breakfasted here. I'm
+Michael Rust's clerk.'
+
+'Then you can scarcely expect a cordial reception from _me_,' said Harson,
+coldly.
+
+'I don't care what sort of a reception you give _me_,' replied Kornicker;
+'you may kick me if it will be any comfort to you, provided you only do
+what I ask. Michael Rust is dead, and his daughter is now dying, with
+scarcely clothes to cover her, or a bed to lie in; without a cent to buy
+her food or medicine; without a soul to say a single word of comfort to
+her. I wouldn't have troubled you, old fellow,' continued he, with some
+warmth, at the same time turning out his pockets, 'if I had a cent to give
+her. The last I had I spent in getting a breakfast this morning; and
+although it's the only meal I've eaten to day, damme if I would have
+touched it if I had thought to have found her in such circumstances. But
+since you won't help her, you may let it alone; I'm not so hard run but
+that I can do something for her yet.'
+
+Kornicker had worked himself up into such an excitement, owing to Harson's
+cold reception of him, that he took it for granted his request was to be
+refused; and having thus vented his feelings he turned on his heel to go,
+when the old man laid his hand on his shoulder.
+
+'Nature puts noble hearts in very rough cases,' said Harson, his eyes
+glistening as he spoke. 'You're a good fellow, but rather hasty. I didn't
+say I would not assist the poor girl; on the contrary, you shall see that
+I will. She has no doctor?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'No nurse?'
+
+'No.'
+
+Harson rang the bell. The house-keeper answered it.
+
+'Martha, put on your things,' said Harson; 'I want you to sit up with a
+sick person to-night. Bring a basket, and lights, and cups, and every
+thing that's necessary for one who has nothing. I'll return in five
+minutes; you must be ready by that time. Now then, Sir, come along; you
+shall see what I'll do next.'
+
+He went into the street, and walked rapidly on, turning one or two
+corners, but without going far, and at last knocked at the door of a small
+house.
+
+'A very excellent fellow lives here,' said he to Kornicker; 'he's a
+doctor; and if this girl can be saved he'll do it. Hark! there he comes. I
+hear his step.'
+
+The door was opened by the doctor himself, and a few words sufficed to
+explain matters to him.
+
+'I'll be ready in a minute,' said he, darting in the room and as suddenly
+returning, struggling his way into the arms of a great-coat. 'Now then,'
+exclaimed he, buttoning a single button, and dashing into the street,
+'which way?'
+
+'Where does she live?' asked Harson. 'I'll go back and bring the nurse.'
+
+Kornicker told him, and was hurrying off, when Harson touched his arm, and
+leading him a few steps aside, said in a low voice: 'You seem somewhat
+straitened for money, Mr. Kornicker; I wish you would accept a loan from
+me.' He extended a bank-note to him.
+
+Kornicker buttoned his pockets up very closely, not omitting a single
+button, and then replied coldly: 'I ask charity for others, not for
+myself.'
+
+'Come, come,' said Harson, kindly, 'you mustn't bear malice. I did not act
+well toward you at first; you must forget it; and to show that you do so,
+you must take this loan from me.'
+
+'I don't wish to borrow,' replied Kornicker.
+
+'Well, I'm sorry for it,' said Harson, taking his hand; 'but you're not
+angry?'
+
+'No no, old fellow; it's not an easy matter to keep angry with you; you're
+a trump!'
+
+'Perhaps you'll sup with me when we return?' said the old man, earnestly.
+
+'I'll see how the girl is,' replied Kornicker; 'good bye. We're losing
+time.'
+
+Saying this, he shook hands with Harson, and joining the doctor, they set
+out at a rapid pace for the girl's abode.
+
+They reached it without interruption, other than a short delay on the part
+of the doctor, who being of a belligerent disposition, was desirous of
+stopping to flog a man who had intentionally jostled him off the sidewalk.
+Kornicker, however, by urging upon him the situation of the girl, had
+induced him to postpone his purpose, not a little to the relief of the
+offender, who in insulting him had only intended to insult an inoffensive
+elderly person, who could not resent the affront.
+
+'Can it be possible that any thing human tenants such a den as this?' said
+the doctor, looking at the half-hung door of the girl's abode, and
+listening to the wind as it sighed through broken window-panes and along
+the entry.
+
+'Come on, and you'll see,' replied Kornicker; and seizing him by the arm,
+he led him half stumbling up the stairs, and finally paused at the girl's
+room.
+
+'Look in there, if you want to see comfort,' said he, with an irony that
+seemed almost savage, from the laugh which accompanied it. 'Isn't that a
+sweet death-chamber for one who all her life has had every thing that
+money could buy?'
+
+The doctor glanced in the room, then at the fierce, excited face of his
+companion. 'Come, come,' said he, in a kind tone, taking Kornicker's hand;
+'don't give way to these feelings. She'll be well taken care of now. Harry
+Harson never does a good action by halves. Come in.'
+
+He pushed the door open very gently, and went to the bed. The girl seemed
+sleeping, for she did not move. He took the candle, and held it so that
+the light fell on her face. He then placed his hand gently upon her wrist.
+He kept it there for some moments, then held up the light again, and
+looked at her face; after which he placed it on the floor, rose up, and
+took a long survey of the room.
+
+'It's a wretched place,' said he, speaking in a whisper. 'She must have
+suffered terribly here.'
+
+'This is the way the poor live,' said Kornicker, in a low, bitter tone;
+'this is the way _she_ has lived; but we'll save her from dying so.'
+
+The doctor looked at him, and then turned away and bit his lip:
+
+'What are you going to do for her?' demanded Kornicker, after a pause:
+'have you medicine with you?'
+
+'She requires nothing now,' said the doctor, in a tone scarcely above a
+whisper. 'She's dead!'
+
+Kornicker hastily took the light, and bent over her. He remained thus for
+a long time; and when he rose, his eyes were filled with tears.
+
+'I'm sorry I left her,' said he, in a vain effort to speak in his usual
+tones. 'It was very hard that she should die alone. I acted for the best;
+but d--n it, I'm always wrong!'
+
+He dashed his fist across his face, walked to the window and looked out.
+
+At that moment the door opened, and Harson entered, his face somewhat
+attempered in its joyous expression; and close behind followed the
+house-keeper with a large basket.
+
+'How is she?' asked he, in a subdued tone.
+
+Kornicker made no reply, but looked resolutely out of the window, and
+snuffed profusely. It would not have been manly to show that the large
+tears were coursing down his cheeks. Harson threw an inquiring glance at
+the doctor, who answered by a shake of the head: 'She was dead when we got
+here.'
+
+Harson went to the bed, and put back the long tresses from her face. There
+was much in that face to sadden the old man's heart. Had it been that of
+an old person, of one who had lived out her time, and had been gathered
+in, in due season, he would have thought less of it; but it was sad indeed
+to see one in the first blush of youth, scarcely more than a child,
+stricken down and dying in such a place, and so desolate.
+
+'Was there no one with her--not a soul?' inquired Harson, earnestly, as he
+rose; 'not one human being, to breathe a word of comfort in her ear, or to
+whisper a kind word to cheer her on her long journey?'
+
+The doctor shook his head: 'No one.' Harson's lips quivered, but he
+pressed them tightly together, and turning to Kornicker said:
+
+'Come, my good fellow, you must struggle against your feelings; you must
+not be downcast about it. She's better off than if she had lived--much
+better off.'
+
+'I'm not in the least downcast,' replied Kornicker, in a very resolute
+manner; 'I don't care a straw about it. She was nothing to me; only it's a
+little disagreeable to be living in this world without a soul to care for,
+or a soul that cares for you; and then there was some satisfaction in
+being of use to some one, and in feeling it was your duty to see that no
+one imposed on her, or ill treated her; but no matter; it's all over now.
+I suppose it's all right; and I feel quite cheerful, I assure you. But
+you'll look to her, will you? I can be of no farther use here, and I'd
+rather go.'
+
+'I will,' said Harson.
+
+'You won't let her be buried as a pauper, I hope?'
+
+'No, upon my honor she shall not,' replied Harry.
+
+'Very well--good night.'
+
+Harson followed him down the stairs, and again endeavored to force a sum
+of money upon him; but Kornicker was resolute in his refusal, nor could he
+be induced to go home with Harson that evening. He said that he was not
+hungry.
+
+After several ineffectual efforts, the old man permitted him to depart,
+with the internal resolution of keeping his eye on him, and of giving him
+a helping hand in the world; a resolution which we may as well mention
+that he carried out; so that in a few years Mr. Kornicker became a very
+vivacious gentleman, of independent property, who frequented a small
+ale-house in a retired corner of the city, where he snuffed prodigally,
+and became a perfect oracle, and of much reputed knowledge, from the
+sagacious manner in which he shook his head and winked on all subjects.
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.
+
+It was a clear, cloudless night without, and the stars twinkled and
+glistened as if the sky were full of bright eyes, looking gladly down upon
+the world, and taking a share in all its gayety and happiness. There was
+no moon, or rather the moon was a reveller, and kept late hours, and might
+be detected sneaking through the sky at about one or two in the morning,
+when she should have been a-bed; and in consequence of her neglect of duty
+the streets were dark, except where here and there the shop windows threw
+out bright streams of light, revealing now a wrinkled brow, now a fat,
+jolly face, and now a pair of bright sparkling eyes, glowing cheeks, and
+lips like a rose-bud, as the throng of people flitted past them; for an
+instant clear, distinct, with face, feature, and form plainly visible, and
+then lost in the darkness. Some paused to look in the windows, some to
+chat; and it might have been observed, that those who lingered longest in
+the light, were young, and such whose faces could bear both the test of
+light and scrutiny. But amid that crowd was a single man, who followed the
+same course as the rest; skulking in the dark corners, darting rapidly
+across the streams of light, with his head bent down and his hat slouched,
+as if he desired to avoid notice. When he reached those places which were
+comparatively less thronged, he paused and leaned against the iron
+railings of the houses, and more than once turned and retraced his steps,
+as if he had changed or mistaken his route. He was, as far as could be
+judged from the sudden and uncertain glimpses afforded of his person, tall
+and gaunt, with sunken eyes, long unshorn beard, and a face disfigured by
+a deep gash. He had the appearance of one broken down by ill health or
+suffering, and his panting breath, as he stopped, showed that he was
+taxing his strength by the pace at which he went. Although he paused
+often, and often turned back, yet in the end he resumed his journey, and
+finally reached the upper part of the city. There he struck into a dark
+cross-street. Once free from the crowd, and where few could observe him,
+his smothered feelings broke out; and muttering to himself, grating his
+teeth, blaspheming, now striking his clenched fists as if aiming a blow,
+he darted on. He did not pause until he came to the house of no less a
+person than Harry Harson. He crossed the door-yard hastily, as if he
+feared his resolution might give way; opened the front door, for Harry had
+no enemies, and his door was unbolted, and entered the outer room. The
+door communicating with the inner room was open, so that he could see
+within; and perhaps never was there a greater contrast than between the
+occupants of those two rooms. In one was a man eaten up by fierce
+passions, desperate and hardened, with all that is noble in the human soul
+burnt out as with a hot iron; in the other sat an old man whose benevolent
+features beamed with good will to all mankind. There was scarcely a
+wrinkle in the broad full brow; the hair was sprinkled with gray; but what
+of that? His eye was bright; his mouth teemed with good nature; and his
+heart--God bless thee, old Harry Harson! what need to speak of thy heart?
+
+The intruder had come in so noiselessly, although his motions were rapid
+and bold, that Harson had not heard him, but sat reading a newspaper, and
+was not a little startled in looking over it to see a man seated within a
+few feet of him, and gazing at him with eyes as wild and bright as those
+of a maniac.
+
+'Who are you, in the name of heaven?' ejaculated he, too surprised even to
+rise, and looking at the stranger as if he still doubted the reality of
+his being in that spot.
+
+The man laughed, savagely: 'Look at me, my master; look at me _well_;
+you've seen me afore. Try and recollect it.'
+
+Harson's embarrassment was not of long duration, and he examined the man
+from head to foot. A vague recollection of having met him somewhere,
+mingled with an indefinable feeling of suspicion and pain, crossed
+Harson's mind as he studied the sunken features which were submitted
+unshrinkingly to his scrutiny. He thought, and pondered, and wondered; and
+still the man remained unmoved. He looked again; the man changed his
+position, and the light fell upon him from another direction. Harson knew
+him at once. He started up: 'Murderer, I know you!'
+
+The man was on his feet at the same moment.
+
+'Down to your seat, Sir!' said he, in a loud, savage tone. 'You're right;
+but you cannot take me alive, nor will mortal man. In that room,' said he,
+in a low tone, and pointing toward the dark stair-case which led to the
+upper part of the house, 'I killed Tim Craig--the only man that ever loved
+me. He's been after me ever since!' He leaned his face toward Harson, and
+looking stealthily over his shoulder said in a whisper: 'He's waiting for
+me at the door. He sat down on the stoop when I came in. I don't know why
+I came here, but _he_ made me do it, and I must see where I killed him. It
+wasn't me. It was Rust; it was Rust. Hark!' He cast a hasty glance in the
+room behind him. 'I'm going, Tim, I'm going,' said he. 'Quick! quick! give
+me the light!'
+
+Seizing the candle, before Harson could prevent him, he rushed out of the
+room, and sprang up the stairs two at a time. Harson followed; but before
+he reached the door of the upper room, with a yell so loud and unearthly
+that it made the old man's heart stand still, the murderer darted out; his
+face livid; his hair bristling, his eyes starting with horror. With a
+single bound he cleared the stairs; crossed the antechamber, the gate
+swung heavily to, and he was gone! And this was the last that was ever
+known of Bill Jones. A few months afterward, the body of a man was found
+floating in one of the docks, and was supposed to be his; but it was so
+mutilated and disfigured, that it was impossible to ascertain the fact
+with any certainty, and it was deposited in the earth with none to claim
+it or care for it, and with no mark to designate that the soil above it
+shrouded a heart which had once throbbed with all the hopes and fears and
+passions that were burning in the bosoms of those who were carelessly
+loitering above its resting place.
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTY.
+
+Ned Somers had followed Harson's advice in not making his visits to
+Rhoneland's too frequent. But whatever may have passed between him and
+Kate, and even if they did occasionally meet in the street and stop to
+speak, and sometimes to hold conversations which were neither short nor
+uninteresting to themselves, that is a matter between themselves with
+which we have nothing to do. Certain it is, however, that as Ned cooled
+off in his intimacy with Rhoneland, he appeared to rise in the old man's
+estimation; and he grew more cordial when they _did_ meet. It may have
+been that the suspicions implanted by Rust were gradually giving way
+before the frank, honest nature of the young man; or it may have been that
+gratitude for the assistance which Somers had lent, (and which Harson was
+very particular to give its full weight) in disentangling him from the
+toils of Rust; or it may have been the secret influence of Harson, who
+ventured, whenever it could be done, to speak a good word for Ned; or it
+may have been the drooping face of his child, which he was wont more than
+ever to study anxiously, that gradually softened his feelings; but there
+is no doubt that, to Kate's surprise, he one day told her to get him pen,
+ink and paper, and to draw the table in front of him, as he was going to
+write a letter. And it must be confessed, that Kate's color heightened,
+and her heart beat fast when he had finished the letter, directed it to
+Mr. Edward Somers, and then asked if she knew the address of Somers, which
+of course she did; although she hesitated and stammered as if it were a
+profound secret, and the answer the most difficult thing in the world.
+
+But her surprise was scarcely greater than that of Ned himself, when a boy
+came to him with a letter which ran thus:
+
+    'MY DEAR EDWARD: Come to me as soon as you can; I wish to see
+    you on a matter of much importance to both of us.
+
+                               Yours truly,
+                                                 JACOB RHONELAND.'
+
+Ned felt something bouncing about in a very queer manner directly under
+his ribs, as he read this note; but the sensation was not so painful as to
+prevent his obeying it with a speed that was perfectly marvellous; for to
+Rhoneland it seemed that the letter could scarcely have reached its
+destination before Ned was back with it in his hand.
+
+'You got my note,' said he gravely, as Somers entered, his face flushed
+with the rapidity with which he had come.
+
+'I have.'
+
+'Don't go, Kate,' said he to his daughter, who with an inkling of what was
+to follow, was stealing away. 'What I have to say relates to both of you.'
+
+'Some time since,' said he, rising, and standing in front of Ned, 'I
+wronged you, by making charges against you which I am now convinced were
+false. My mind was poisoned by one who has gone to his long account, and
+whose evil deeds may sleep with him. For this,' said he, extending his
+hand, 'I ask your pardon; much more frankly and freely than I did on the
+day when we met at Mr. Harson's.'
+
+Ned took the proffered hand; at the same time pouring out a confusion of
+words, the sum and substance of which was intended to be, that he had
+taken no offence; that he knew Jacob was misled by others; that he was not
+only perfectly willing, but very happy, to make up the matter, and say no
+more about it; which no doubt was very true, for within six feet of him
+stood Kate, with her soft eyes fixed on his face, and her little mouth
+dimpled with smiles, as she observed how swimmingly matters were going on.
+And could he be crusty and dogged? or could he cherish a grudge against
+_her_ father? The thing was impossible. The extended hand was grasped, and
+grasped warmly.
+
+'Another thing I have to speak of,' said Rhoneland, relaxing somewhat at
+the cordial tone of Ned's feelings. 'It is but a short time since I learnt
+the full extent of my obligations to you, for the part you took in
+unmasking the character of Rust, and in obtaining from him a disavowal of
+charges against me, which, false as they were, were hard indeed to bear,
+and were breaking me down. I have not finished,' said he, raising his hand
+to prevent the interruption which Somers was endeavoring to make; 'let me
+complete what I have to say, and you may speak as much as you like,
+afterward. I will not thank you, for thanks are but words, and too often
+mean nothing. Is there any thing that I can _do_, to lessen my
+indebtedness to you?--or is there any way in which I can pay it off
+altogether?'
+
+He stopped, and looked earnestly in Ned's face. The red blood dashed up to
+Somers' very forehead, and he could scarcely breathe for the thumping of
+his heart, as the idea crossed him that now was the time to ask for Kate;
+nor was his agitation at all diminished by casting a glance at her, and
+seeing her cheeks crimson and her eyes downcast, as if she anticipated
+what was going on in his mind. It must be confessed, however, that had
+Rhoneland had no other clue to his wishes than that afforded by his words,
+he would have been very much in the dark; for although Ned attempted to
+speak out boldly, his lips trembled very much, and his voice was not as
+obedient as he could wish; and all that was distinctly audible was the
+girl's name.
+
+'Why lad, what ails thee?' asked Rhoneland, unbending, as he observed the
+embarrassment of his guest. 'You used to be as bold as a lion. Come here
+Kate,' said he to his daughter; 'this young fellow has lost his voice; can
+_you_ tell me what he wants?'
+
+It was now Kate's turn to grow confused, and the color to deepen on her
+cheek; nor did she utter a word.
+
+'Young man,' continued Rhoneland, in a grave tone, 'I did not send for you
+to trifle with your feelings. You love my daughter, and would ask for
+_her_, and you fear to do so lest the request should be refused. She is
+yours. Treat her kindly, and keep even a shadow of sorrow from falling
+upon her brow. If you do not, an old man's curse will rest upon you; and
+even though I be dead, and mouldering in my grave, where my voice cannot
+reach you, that silent curse will follow you.' He turned abruptly away,
+and left the room.
+
+Ned Somers took Kate's hand in his; passed his arm about her waist, and
+drew her to him in so singular a manner, that their lips could not but
+meet; and not only once, but at least some half-a-dozen times.
+
+'So you're mine at last, Kate!' said he, looking into her very eyes,
+whenever they were raised enough for him to do so. 'Did I not tell you to
+cheer up; and that all would be well? Did I not say so; and wasn't I
+right? And now, Kate,' said he, in a less confident tone, 'your father,
+though a most worthy old gentleman, is somewhat whimsical, and might
+change his mind; so when shall _it_ be?'
+
+Kate's reply was so very low, that it reached no ears except those of Ned;
+but whatever it was, it is certain that on that day month they had been
+married a week, and were deep in preparations for a merry-making to be
+held on that very evening at Rhoneland's old house, which had been so
+furbished up and renovated, under the auspices of the young couple, that
+every thing in it seemed to shine again. A party at Jacob Rhoneland's! It
+was a thing unheard of, and produced quite a sensation in the drowsy part
+of the town where he lived. Never had a household been in such a fluster
+as his was. What deep consultations were held to prevent the old man--who
+seemed to have grown quite cheerful and light-hearted, and chirruped about
+the house like some gay old old cricket--from meddling in every thing, and
+to throw dust in his eyes, so as to make him suppose that he was having
+every thing in his own way, when in fact he was having nothing. And then
+what a time it took, and what entreaties, to prevail on him to let the
+great wooden chest, studded with brass nails, which he never took his eye
+from, be removed to an upper-chamber, to make room for their guests. But
+Harry Harson, who was in the thick of all the doings, in and out a dozen
+times in an hour; rubbing his hands and enjoying the bustle, giving
+advice, suggesting this thing and that, and setting every thing wrong;
+managed to get the great chest out of the way, for he dragged it up stairs
+under Rhoneland's very nose, and in the teeth of his remonstrances; and
+depositing it in a little out-of-the-way room, very difficult of access,
+by reason of the angles and turns in the entry, and the size of the chest,
+told Rhoneland that if he wanted it below he might take it there himself;
+but that it was better where it was, and much more safe and out of the
+way; in which opinion Rhoneland finally coincided.
+
+Betimes Kate came down stairs to receive her guests, looking so
+charmingly, and her eyes flashing with such malicious brightness, that on
+meeting her in the entry Ned stopped to kiss her, and tell her that she
+was looking 'gloriously;' a performance and observation by the way, which
+he had already repeated half-a-dozen times in the course of the last hour.
+By twos and threes the guests began to arrive, and went up stairs. There
+was a great clatter above, where they were taking off their things. It
+took a wonderful time to remove the hats and shawls; for although for a
+long time up they went, none came down. There must have been thirty
+assembled above stairs. At last Harry Harson, who was in the room with Ned
+and Kate, dressed in his best black suit, and looking as young and merry
+as any of them, vowed that he would not stand it, and sallied up stairs
+and sent them down in a drove. How bright and cheerful they all were! how
+the congratulations poured in upon Ned and Kate; and hopes for his future
+happiness, and that he might have a large fortune, and a large family to
+help him take care of it.
+
+A loud scraping and jingling announced that the music was there, and put a
+stop to such flummery as conversation. The young folks were going into the
+business of the evening. The little stunted black fiddler with rings in
+his ears, was mounted on one chair; the big, fat fiddler, who fiddled with
+his eyes shut, was seated on another; and the goggle-eyed negro, with a
+self-satisfied face, who simpered on every body, and flourished the
+tambourine, was placed like an umbrella in the corner, to be out of the
+way.
+
+The fat fiddler called out for the gentlemen to choose their partners for
+a quadrille. Then came the long premonitory screeching of the fiddle-bow
+across the cat-gut; then the slight, tremulous jingle of the tambourine,
+as if the goggle-eyed negro were dying to begin; then the bustling and
+hustling, and squeezing of the couples, until they had obtained their
+places in the dance. Then the scientific look of the fat fiddler, as he
+opened his eyes and surveyed the whole, to see that all was right; then
+the slight clearing of his throat, as he threw his head on one side,
+bellowed out 'right and left,' and forthwith plunged into the matter,
+might and main. Away he went, but fast and furious at his heels followed
+the little stunted fiddler; and loud above the din of both, rose the
+rattle of the tambourine. 'Right hand across! forward two; balancez;
+ladies chain; forward four; dos-à-dos; chassez to the right; cross over;
+all round;' here, there, every where, and all over--he was up to it all.
+In vain the dancers fairly flew; the fat fiddler was equal to all
+emergencies; he never lagged; he was sometimes too fast, but never--no,
+not for a single instant--was he behind.
+
+'Whew!' said he, as he gave the final flourish of his bow, and laying it
+aside, wiped his forehead on his coat-sleeve, and called for a tumbler of
+cold water. And thereupon the stunted fiddler and the tambourine made the
+same request; the latter suggesting that his glass might be tempered with
+a 'small spirt of gin,' without hurting his feelings.
+
+In that dance, the lightest step and merriest voice was that of Harson,
+who led out the bride, and footed it there with the best of them; and who
+through the whole evening was bustling around the room, with a kind word
+for every one, and as much at home as if the house, and the company, and
+even the bride, belonged to him. And in fact, one or two of the
+guests--but they were unsophisticated people from the country--were for
+some time under the delusion that Harry was the bridegroom, instead of the
+quiet young fellow who was seen walking about the rooms, talking to the
+disagreeable old women, and getting partners for the ugly young ones,
+without their knowing it; but all in such an unobtrusive manner that he
+seemed quite a nobody when compared with Harson.
+
+But there must be an end even to the merriest meetings; and when they had
+kept it up until the night had got among the small hours, they began to
+drop off. And here, amid the adieus of departing guests, we will take our
+leave of the young couple; for it is far pleasanter to bid farewell to
+those whose friendship we have cherished when hope is strong and bright,
+than when care or disappointment has flung its shadow over their hearts.
+
+
+CHAPTER THE LAST.
+
+A few weeks had elapsed, and a small group were gathered one evening at
+Harson's fireside. It was composed of three persons beside Harson. The
+first was a man of about fifty; he might have been younger; and the heavy
+wrinkles which were scored across his forehead may have been the fruit of
+trouble and care, for they were almost too deep for his years; his mouth
+was firmly compressed, like that of one in the habit of mastering strong
+feelings; and the whole character of his face would have been stern, but
+for his dark, gray eye, which at times brightened up almost to childish
+playfulness. This was Mr. Colton, the father of Harson's protegé, Annie.
+The child herself was seated on Harson's knee, sound asleep, with her head
+resting on his breast. The only other person in the group was the wife of
+Mr. Colton. She was quite young, and had once possessed great beauty--the
+beauty of youth and happiness; but that was gone, and in its place was the
+patient look of one who had suffered much, and in silence. She spoke
+seldom, and in a low tone, so soft and musical that one regretted when the
+voice ceased.
+
+'Your letter,' said Mr. Colton, in continuation of a previous
+conversation, 'put an end to all my plans respecting my poor niece. I had
+hoped to assist her; for knowing her father's hostility to her, I feared
+that she might be in want. Her death was a very melancholy one.'
+
+He looked in the fire in deep thought, and for a short time a silence
+ensued which no one seemed inclined to break.
+
+'I never saw her,' said his wife, after some moments; 'I think _you_ did.'
+
+'Yes, once--at the trial,' replied he, uttering the last words with an
+effort, as if the subject were painful. 'She was very beautiful.'
+
+'Did she resemble her father?' inquired Mrs. Colton.
+
+'Perhaps I can settle that question more easily than any one,' said
+Harson, rising up, 'by letting you judge for yourself.'
+
+He went to a small curtain which hung against the wall, and drawing it
+aside, disclosed a portrait of Rust's daughter--the same which Rust had
+brooded over with such mingled emotions on the night previous to the
+murder. The same childlike, innocent smile, played round the small,
+dimpled mouth; the same calm, thoughtful expression of intellect mingled
+with gentleness, shone out of the eyes. All was as it was when father and
+child last looked upon it--the criminal and her accuser. Every line was
+unaltered; but where were they? DUST! They had acted their part on earth;
+their love, their hate, their fears, their remorse, were past. The tide of
+time was hurrying on, bringing life and death, and hopes and fears to
+others, but sweeping from the earth all trace of their footsteps. To them
+forever, aye even until the last trump, time and thought, and care and
+feeling, had no existence!
+
+Mrs. Colton's eyes filled with tears as she gazed upon the picture. 'She
+deserved a happier fate,' said she, in a subdued tone, as if she feared to
+disturb the spell which seemed to hang about it.
+
+'It was ordained for the best,' replied Harson, in a grave tone, as he
+regarded the portrait with a kind of solemn interest. Then, after a
+moment, he added: 'That _was_ her, before want and suffering had laid
+their iron finger upon her. When I saw her, she was dead. She was very
+beautiful even then; but in the short time that had elapsed since her
+father's imprisonment, the work of years had been performed; she seemed
+much older and thinner, and more care-worn.'
+
+'How did you get this?' inquired Mr. Colton, pointing to the picture.
+
+'A friend of mine, the person who aided the girl in her last moments,
+accidentally learned that it was for sale, and begged me to buy it. He was
+too poor to do it, and I was willing to gratify him; and so the picture
+became mine.'
+
+Mr. Colton looked at him for a few moments, as if on the point of making
+some remark, and then walked to the other end of the room and took a seat
+without a word. He was aroused by the child climbing on his knee, and
+putting her arms about his neck.
+
+'God protect you, my child!' said he, laying his hand affectionately on
+her head; 'may you never know the misery which has fallen upon that poor
+girl!'
+
+The words were intended to be inaudible, but they reached the ear of his
+wife, who going up to him, and laying her hand on his arm, said in a low
+voice: 'Come, come, George, do not give way to these feelings. You must
+not be gloomy.'
+
+He looked at her sadly, and then placing his finger on his heart, said:
+'Is not what has been going on here, for years, enough to wither to the
+root every feeling of cheerfulness, so that it should never again put
+forth a blossom?'
+
+'Hush! hush!' interrupted his wife, in a whisper; 'if you _have_ suffered,
+you have gained at last what you have always prayed for; while _he_, the
+one who caused it all, has paid the penalty of his misdeeds. Remember what
+his fate was.' She pointed to the picture: 'Remember too, the fate of his
+only child. George, George! his punishment has been terrible, even in
+_this_ world!'
+
+'You are right, Mary--GOD forgive me! I'll think of it no more. _He_ and I
+were nursed in the same arms, and watched by the same fond mother. From
+the bottom of my heart I forgive him. It would be sacrilege to her memory,
+for me to harbor an unkind feeling toward even a stranger, if she had
+loved him.'
+
+He was silent for a moment, and then addressing Harson, enquired:
+
+'Who is this Mr. Kornicker?'
+
+'A poor fellow, with little to help him through the world but careless
+habits and a good heart.'
+
+'What character does he bear?' inquired the other.
+
+'Such as might be expected from his position,' replied Harson; 'full of
+flaws, but with a vein of gold running through it. Nature has given him
+fine feelings, and fortune, unluckily, has placed him in a situation where
+such feelings are impediments rather than otherwise. But he is a noble
+fellow for all that.'
+
+'Where can he be found?' asked his guest.
+
+Harson probably anticipated the object of this inquiry, for he said with a
+laugh:
+
+'He has been taken care of; he has been placed where the means of
+livelihood and competence are in his grasp, if he will but work for them.
+And what is better yet, he seems disposed to do so, although not much can
+be expected of him at first. I do not think,' added he, 'that it
+contributes to the happiness of a young man, with a long life before him,
+to be altogether idle. I will do all that I can to help him; but he must
+work. It will be more easy for him as he gets used to the traces.'
+
+The stranger acquiesced in this remark, and then added: 'I will take his
+address, nevertheless, for I must see him when I return to the city, which
+will be very shortly; but you seem to have anticipated me in every thing.
+Even the lawyer, Mr. Holmes, declined to be paid for his services. He said
+that _this_ was not strictly a business matter, and that what he had done
+was out of friendship for you, and that I had better pocket the fee and
+drop the subject; at the same time, he said he was going to dinner, and
+asked me to join him, which I did, and a very pleasant time we had of it.'
+
+A good-natured laugh was indulged at the peculiarities of the old lawyer,
+and many stories told of him, and of others who have figured in this
+history. Nor was it until the little clock over the mantel-piece seemed to
+give a very vehement wag of its pendulum as it struck twelve, and Spite,
+who had been asleep in the corner, bounced up, alarmed at the lateness of
+the night, and barked vociferously, that they dreamed of going to bed.
+
+The strangers were Harson's guests that night; and the old man, having
+escorted them to their room, and wished them good night, was himself soon
+in bed and asleep.
+
+Bright and early the next morning, they were astir; for they were to leave
+the city, and Harson was up and ready to see them off. It was a fine
+morning; the trees were just beginning to put forth their spring leaves,
+and the grass in the public squares was looking quite fresh and green, as
+they drove down to the wharf, where the steamer lay, whizzing and puffing,
+and groaning as if in mortal pain, and tugging at its cable like some
+shackled sea-monster struggling to escape to its home in the deep. Early
+as it was, crowds were hurrying to and fro; carts driving up and
+unloading; porters staggering along with trunks and bales on their
+shoulders; carriages dashing up at a gallop, filled with people afraid of
+being too late, and going off more leisurely after the passengers were
+deposited on the wharf. People were bustling hither and thither, elbowing
+their way to one place, merely to find out where to elbow it to the next;
+friends were bidding each other adieu; and in particular, a stout lady
+from the country, in yellow ribbons, from the upper part of the boat was
+sending a confidential message to her family and friends by a gentleman
+who stood in the crowd some sixty yards off.
+
+Through this throng the coach containing our friends drove, and just in
+good time, for as they stepped on board, the last bell rang.
+
+'All aboard!' shouted the captain; 'take in the plank.'
+
+Harson shook hands with his friends. 'God bless thee, my child!' said he,
+pressing Annie in his arms. The next moment he stepped on shore; and the
+boat glided from the dock, and shot out upon the green water.
+
+'Ah, Annie!' said the old man, as he stopped waving his hand, and turned
+away from the river, 'I had hoped that you would have been mine own as
+long as I lived; but it's all right as it is. Your brother,' added he, 'I
+did not miss much, when his parents took him, but _you_ had become a part
+of my home. Well, well!'
+
+No doubt there was a great deal of hidden consolation in these last words;
+for Harson's face soon recovered its usual cheerful character, and he
+steadily trudged toward his home.
+
+A few words respecting the other characters, and our task is ended.
+
+Grosket was induced by Mr. Colton to remove to the country, where an
+intercourse with different and better men than those with whom he had
+hitherto associated tended in a great measure to soften his character, and
+temper his fierce passions--the offspring of persecution and suffering.
+
+Mrs. Blossom, at first alarmed by the fear of the law, grew penitent and
+rigorous in the discharge of her moral obligations to society; but the Law
+being a notorious sleepy-head, and never appearing to have its eyes open,
+she gradually fell into her old habits, reöpened her 'seminary for lambs;'
+and from the great quantity of her disciples which frequent the
+thoroughfares of the city at present, I should judge is getting along
+prosperously. Mr. Snork was extremely desirous of becoming a partner in
+the concern, and made several overtures to that effect, which might have
+been accepted by the lady, had he not objected to being deprived of his
+eye-sight, and seated at a corner to receive pennies from passers-by. It
+was in vain that the lady represented to him that this would be the making
+of their respective fortunes; that blind beggars, particularly if they
+were remarkably disgusting, as was the case with him, had been known to
+retire with handsome fortunes, and that some of them even bought snug
+little farms in the country, and kept a horse and 'shay.' Mr. Snork
+however, was obstinate; his proposals were accordingly rejected, and he
+returned disconsolately to his abode, which was now lonely, his wife
+having paid a visit to the penitentiary, for the benefit of the country
+air.
+
+The widow, Mrs. Chowles, still lives in her quiet, blinking little house,
+as cheerful and contented as ever; as happy as ever to hear Harry's heavy
+step, and to see his honest face in his old corner in her parlor; and
+although he is no longer accompanied by Spite, who has grown old and
+rheumatic, so that he is unable to stir from the chimney-corner, where he
+passes his time in crabbed solitude, except when he turns up his dim eyes
+to his old master, as he hears his voice, and feels his caressing hand on
+his head: all else is as it was in that little household; and that it may
+long continue, is our warmest wish.
+
+
+CONCLUSION.
+
+Mr. Stites' manuscript was written at different times, and in different
+hands. The little man was evidently troubled with a defective memory,
+(although I would not tell him so for the world,) and has permitted many
+strange mistakes and anachronisms to creep into his tale, which inclines
+me to think that the whole matter is not so authentic as he pretends, but
+has been gleaned in various parcels from the regions of romance. But as he
+is not a little tetchy on the score of his veracity, I can only suggest
+that the tale be regarded by his good natured readers rather as a fiction
+than sober truth.
+
+From beginning to end, strong disapprobation has been expressed by Mr.
+Snagg, who says that 'that d--d dog is enough to kill any story, and that
+for his part, he doesn't think much of Stites; never did, and never will;
+and that a single hair of Slaughter's tail was worth Stites' marrow, fat
+and kidneys, all done up together.'
+
+It is useless to argue with him; and I find the most judicious mode of
+disposing of the matter is to let the question remain unanswered; by which
+means he soon comes round, begins to discover a few merits in the
+manuscript, and finally concludes with a warm panegyric upon Mr. STITES
+himself, always however with a reservation as to the dog, whom he swears
+'he never shall be able to stomach.'
+
+In all respects, my quiet old home remains as it was. The same mystery
+hangs about it as formerly. The interest which for a time was excited
+respecting it, when I gave an account of the murder which had left it
+shunned and tenantless, has died away; and with the exception of Mr.
+Snagg, Mr. Stites, and my dog, I have few visiters. Perhaps it is best
+that it should be so; for I have the spectres of no hard feelings nor
+bitter thoughts, nor painful recollections to haunt me, requiring
+excitement and bustle to drive them off; and old age demands time for
+solemn thought and serious meditation, to enable it to wean itself from
+the past, and look cheerfully forward to the future.
+
+But no more of myself. My task is ended; and I now bid you farewell!
+
+                                                            JOHN QUOD.
+
+
+
+
+THE PAST.
+
+
+  I.
+
+  Despair not, though thy course is drear,
+    The past has pleasures for us all;
+  Bright scenes and things to hearts most dear,
+    And those how fondly we recall.
+
+
+  II.
+
+  Such as some lovely girl we knew;
+    Such as some touching song we heard;
+  Such as some evening spent, when flew
+    The hours as swift as passing bird.
+
+
+  III.
+
+  Such as some well-tried friend we had;
+    Such as some acts of kindness done,
+  Yet rising up to make us glad,
+    And so will rise when years are gone.
+
+
+  IV.
+
+  Despair not! still be innocent;
+    Admire the beautiful, the good,
+  And when the cry of woe is sent,
+    Turn to relieve, in pitying mood.
+
+
+  V.
+
+  So shall the present, when 'tis past,
+    Rich with harmonious scenes appear,
+  No gloomy shadows o'er it cast,
+    No spectres there, to make thee fear.
+
+                                                                 E. G.
+
+
+
+
+THE HEARTH OF HOME.
+
+BY MARY E. HEWITT.
+
+
+  The storm around my dwelling sweeps,
+  And while the dry boughs fierce it reaps,
+  My heart within a vigil keeps,
+    The warm and cheering hearth beside;
+  And as I mark the kindling glow
+  Brightly o'er all its radiance throw,
+  Back to the years my memories flow,
+    When Rome sat on her hills in pride;
+  When every stream and grove and tree
+  And fountain had its deity.
+
+  The hearth was then, 'mong low and great,
+  Unto the Lares consecrate:
+  The youth arrived to man's estate
+    There offered up his golden heart;
+  Thither, when overwhelmed with dread,
+  The stranger still for refuge fled,
+  Was kindly cheered, and warmed, and fed,
+    Till he might fearless thence depart:
+  And there the slave, a slave no more,
+  Hung reverent up the chain he wore.
+
+  Full many a change the hearth hath known;
+  The Druid fire, the curfew's tone,
+  The log that bright at yule-tide shone,
+    The merry sports of Hallow-e'en;
+  Yet still where'er a home is found,
+  Gather the warm affections round,
+  And there the notes of mirth resound,
+    The voice of wisdom heard between:
+  And welcomed there with words of grace,
+  The stranger finds a resting place.
+
+  Oh! wheresoe'er our feet may roam,
+  Still sacred is the hearth of home;
+  Whether beneath the princely dome,
+    Or peasant's lowly roof it be,
+  For home the wanderer ever yearns;
+  Backward to where its hearth-fire burns,
+  Like to the wife of old, he turns
+    Ever the eyes of memory.
+  Back where his heart he offered first--
+  Back where his fond young hopes he nursed.
+
+  My humble hearth though all disdain,
+  Here may I cast aside the chain
+  The world hath coldly on me lain;
+    Here to my LARES offer up
+  The warm prayer of a grateful heart;
+  THOU that my household guardian art,
+  That dost to me thine aid impart,
+    And with thy mercy fill'st my cup;
+  Strengthen the hope within my soul,
+  Till I in faith may reach the goal.
+
+
+
+
+PROFESSOR SHAW.
+
+A SKETCH.
+
+
+PLUTARCH SHAW, the naturalist, was lately in the stocks, which has been a
+matter of much talk among the virtuosi, and a good deal of malicious
+laughter on all hands. He cut a devil of a figure, rest assured, propped
+up in a straight jacket, his eye fiery with vengeance; the innocent victim
+of 'circumstances,' and that very common error of putting the saddle on
+the wrong horse. A very little explanation will serve to place this matter
+in the right light, and show by what a fantastic adventure an honest man,
+who was alway given to roam over much territory, was suddenly placed upon
+the limits, and one of the most profound explorers of the curious became
+himself for the time being a curiosity.
+
+Mr. Shaw is so much of an enthusiast, that it is very unpleasant to stand
+near him when he is talking about his bugs, or exhibiting his specimens,
+on account of being spattered all over with the spray of his eloquence. A
+bat shot down in the dusk of the evening is enough to set him half crazy,
+and make the saliva fly all over; it rolls and surges against the bulwarks
+of his jagged teeth in a rabid foam, showers out with his descriptions,
+and makes him only tolerable at arm's length. The beetles and butterflies
+which he has transfixed are innumerable; and he is perpetually syringing
+down the humming-birds, as stationary on vibrating wings, these beautiful
+creatures of the air plunge their beaks deep into the cups of flowers.
+With him pin-money is an item. If he marks any thing curious in the
+natural world, he 'sticks a pin there,' and keeps it for future reference;
+any thing from a lady-bug ready to unfold suddenly the gauze upon its hard
+back, where you would think no wings existed, and fly away, to an
+offensive black beetle that snuffs the candle, or cracks its head against
+the wall, thence upward in the scale to the bird which Liberty loves as
+her sublimest emblem, the proudest of the proud, the bird of our own
+mountains, and the eagle of our own skies.
+
+    'I would not heedlessly set foot upon a worm,'
+
+writes Cowper: not so however with the great Shaw, whose collection of
+worms is most disgusting; exceeded only by his reptiles preserved in
+spirits, with all their sickening exhibition of claws. He has got some
+dragons that fall little short of the Devil himself in general hideousness
+and outrageous tails; some noots brought from Nootka Sound; some green
+monsters from Green Bay; some devilish things from Van Diemon's land; and
+finally, Plutarch is himself hideous, and ought to be put in a collection,
+which by the by, he lately _was_. It was a great era in his life time when
+he shot a wild-cat; that however has nothing to do with the present story,
+and must be told shortly. He threw a stone at him, it seems, to frighten
+him out of the bushes, where by dint of sneaking he discovered something
+with a white and black fur, moving about in a short compass. Breathless
+with excitement, standing on tip-toe, dodging his head among the brambles,
+all ready, and meaning to have a shot at him 'pretty soon,' he was
+whispering to himself, telling himself in a mysterious voice to 'hold
+fast,' not to budge, but wait for the next movement; when this
+_pole-cat_--there is a distinction, it is well known in the species, nor in
+the present instance was it a 'distinction without a difference'--opened
+the batteries with the precision of an artillery officer. 'O my eyes!' was
+the exclamation of Professor Shaw, 'my eyes! my eyes! my eyes!' It was a
+great era in his life time also when he shot a plover; _that_ however has
+little to do with the present story, and must be told shortly. It was on
+the Big Plains, where not a tree nor shrub may be seen for miles around;
+where ambuscades are unknown, and it is very hard to steal a march upon
+the timid birds which are frightened at a very shadow; only they do not
+fear the flocks and herds which pasture upon the plains, but tamely pick
+up the worms beneath their feet. Professor Shaw hit upon an expedient to
+surprise them, which no other person would have thought of, than one of
+his extreme ingenuity: a big box, opened at both ends, into which he
+crawled with fowling-piece in hand. First, however, he procured an ox-hide
+at the stall of a neighboring farm, with all its apparatus of horns, and
+placed it over the box, to give it the appearance at a distance, of a
+_bonâ fide_ ox. Sure enough, this scheme worked well. On came the plovers,
+hopping about with much unconcern. Shaw chuckled. He flattered himself
+that he should be the death of some of them, if his own life were only
+spared a few moments. While he hammered the flint of his fowling-piece
+with an old jack-knife, he heard a distant rumbling sound, which soon
+waxed terrible, and caused him to thrust out his head. Thunder and Mars!
+what should he do? If he ran, it was all up with him, and he was a dead
+man if he staid where he was. A wild bull of the prairies was cutting up
+shines at no great distance, tearing up the sod with hoofs and horns, and
+threatening to demolish that refuge of lies. Shaw poked out his head, and
+drew it in again, clutching his fowling-piece convulsively, and trembling
+in an agony of fear. Involuntarily he began to say his prayers. 'Our
+Father who art in heaven,' said he, with great fervor. The bull was now
+up, bellowing in a tumultuous passion, galloping round and round in
+circles which were diminishing with every turn, getting his horns ready to
+toss the whole fiction of an ox, box, hide, horns, Plutarch Shaw and all,
+into the air. 'Help! help!' shrieked the philosopher; 'I'll come out; I
+must, I must, I _must!_' And he _did_ come out, by far the most sneaking
+object for miles around on the Big Plains. Some men who were hunting
+plover from a wagon, (which is the right way,) saw his fantastic position
+with mingled laughter and alarm. They drove to his assistance, but the
+horses shyed off at the terrific conduct of the bull, whose onslaught was
+now made upon the box, which he attacked hoof and horn. Mr. Shaw had
+barely strength to reach the shelter of the wagon, into which he was
+taken, much chap-fallen, and resuscitated with brandy-and-water, which
+were luckily at hand.
+
+He was an 'odd fish,' unanimously so styled, by those who knew him, nor
+did his appearance belie him, as he started forth on a geological
+excursion in the month of May last, making poems and tuning pianos by the
+way. He strung up the old harpsicords to the satisfaction of the country
+girls, who thought he 'played on music' with great skill, but his eyes
+were the very wildest. Was Professor Shaw crazy? By no means. As a proof
+of it, he had written several poems as voluminous as the Fredoniad; which
+were unavailing for the present, but which he _did_ hope that his 'country
+would not willingly let die;' added to this, some marches in double quick
+time, some intricate and inwoven harmonies in the transcendental style,
+stanzas set to music, thrown forth when the excitement was upon him, and
+fugitives from justice. Yet all these were nothing, to judge by dark and
+mysterious hints which were given out, of some GREAT WORK at which he was
+now laboring, which the world, (he said it with a presentiment of triumph)
+would be _compelled_ to own. But, as I remarked, his appearance did not
+belie him. Whoever might doubt his metaphysics, his legs were
+unquestionably the very longest, by the assistance of which he had lately
+won a foot-race on the Union course for a hundred dollars, to enable him
+to pursue his studies for the ministry. 'Accoutred as he was,' on one fine
+day in the month of May, he had wandered to a distant part of the country
+with a walking-stick, furnished at the extremity with a small hammer.
+Absorbed in revery, and constructing verses by the way, he arrived at last
+in a romantic valley, where he was soon busily employed in cracking rocks,
+and collecting specimens for his cabinet.
+
+The solitude and pleasant walks were eminently suited to the mind of
+Professor Shaw. The babbling of the rills which came down the hill sides
+and washed the pebbles at his feet, were soothing to the sense, and the
+birds sang sweetly on the trees, which were covered with the blossoms of
+the spring. Only a single dwelling was seen on one of those swelling hills
+which rose above each other, gently and far away, till their last
+undulating lines were limited by the horizon's blue verge. The eye
+wandered with pleasure over the diversified prospect, which included the
+boundaries of three sovereign states, with various rivers, valleys and
+fertile fields. On such a spot, where Nature reigned and developed herself
+in quiet beauty, whether in the voluptuous budding of the spring, or in
+the year's gorgeous decline, Charity had taken the hint and erected an
+asylum for the insane. Happy invocation of Nature, most kind and gentle
+saviour of the sick, who meeting her in her quiet haunts may touch her
+beautiful garments and be whole! In the exhilarating sunshine, in the
+fields garnished so exquisitely by our good God, in the religious woods,
+the circling hills, and the unbounded sky, there is a force of healing,
+when Art has consigned the victim to despair, and the soothing hand
+aggravates the deep-rooted sorrow. Nature gently re-conducts the lost mind
+through its labyrinth of error, speaking sweet consolation in the passing
+breeze, and a volume of beauty in each unclasping flower.
+
+Professor Shaw was doubling up his grotesque figure over the stones,
+gathering garnets. With the intent look of a gold digger, or an alchymist
+prying into his crucible, he was seeking for treasures, cracking up rocks
+into the size of sugar-lumps, and Macadamizing all the place for yards
+round. His shadow stalked with him with colossal strides, according to the
+declension of the sun, and the hammer in his shadowy arm fell on the
+projection of the shadowy rocks. But not farther off than where his
+grotesque head and slanting extremity were measured on the next wall, two
+clowns had gee'd their oxen under a tree, and left their basket of
+potatoes in the furrow, (w--hoy--gee, there--I tell yer to gee!) for the
+sake of giving their undivided attention to the Professor. Geology they
+had never heard of, beyond its application to stone fence; so they
+considered the conduct of a man very queer indeed, who was muttering to
+himself, and filling his pocket full of stones. After a little silence,
+they nodded to each other with a knowing look, and said with one consent,
+'He's as crazy as a coot.' They approached Mr. Shaw, dubiously. 'See his
+eyes!' said they; 'aint they wild? Mister?' said the elder clown.
+
+Shaw made no reply.
+
+'Mister, look a-here; aint you--aint you----?'
+
+'Fel-spar,' said Shaw, cabalistically.
+
+'Oh dear me! that's enough! My dear feller, we've got a duty to perform. I
+guess we know where you come from. Mister, aint you----?'
+
+'Are you addressing me?' said Professor Shaw, mildly, looking up. 'Are you
+addressing your remarks to me, my friend?
+
+'Wonderful cunnin', but it wont do. 'T wont sarve you; I'm a-feard we
+shall have to----'
+
+'Well, Sir, my name is Shaw.'
+
+'What's that you got onto your cane? What you doin' in Queens cëounty? Do
+tell, aint you----got loose from somewhar? Honor bright!'
+
+The professor, lost in amazement, answered only by a broad stare. He then
+bethought him that two lunatics had escaped from yonder mansion. The idea
+satisfied his mind, and surprise gave way at once to a smile, full of
+benevolence and pity. 'My poor friends,' said he, 'do go back; you have
+surely wandered from home; do go up the hill--do go up the hill.' Then
+stamping his foot with an air of authority, he exclaimed, stretching out
+the hammer of his cane, 'Go back to the asylum, in-stan-taneously!'
+
+'I guess the one in the loft will be long enough,' whispered the rustic;
+'but fetch the longest of the two _ropes_, and make haste. Oh, he's
+stark!'
+
+'Ah! how sad!' soliloquized Professor Shaw, as both of his new friends
+retreated, and one hurried out of sight, 'how sad a spectacle! the
+deluded, wandering mind, told by such unerring symptoms; the wild eye,
+strange words, and fantastic pleasantness; reason hurled from her own
+throne, and that steady light exchanged for the fitful flickering over
+decay! They mistake me for one of their melancholy fraternity, poor
+lunatics! whereas my lamp of life, and reason, it appears to me, never
+shone brighter. I shall yet work out something of which my country will be
+proud, and which shall inscribe on an enduring pedestal the name of SHAW.'
+The professor (with his hammer) split a rock. 'If those men come back,
+what had I better do with them? I will contemplate the remarkable
+phenomenon of the mind in ruins. Humanity suggests to me that I ought to
+coax them back with sophistry as far as the garden-gate, and then holler
+for help.' Shaw was the best hearted of men; he would not hurt a human
+being in the world, cruel as he was to bugs, and to centipedes an 'outer
+barbarian.' In the course of ten minutes he was at the base of a large
+rock, scooping out garnets, and thinking casually of that 'great work
+which his country would not willingly let die,' when a rope was let over
+his head and shoulders from above, and the professor was noosed. The
+countrymen jumped down, and began to drag him from the other end,
+squeezing his bowels, and winding him round and round, till coming to
+close quarters, they knocked his hat off, wrested his hammer out of his
+hand, and seizing him by the collar, almost throttled him with the
+knuckles of their immense fists.
+
+SHAW. (Kicking violently.) Murder! murder! murder!
+
+RUSTICS. It won't do no good; we got yer; you may as well come fust as
+last. You're crazy as a coot, and wuss now than when we fus see you. Your
+eyes shows it.
+
+SHAW. I'll go with you, my friends, but don't kill me; oh! I beseech you
+don't kill me!
+
+RUSTICS. No, we wont hurt you; only come along to the house. Come along.
+
+SHAW. Take your knuckles out of my throat, please. _Aside._ Their
+hallucination is extreme; the symptoms of their disease have taken a form
+the most vindictive. Yes, my friends, conduct me safe. We shall soon reach
+the house; then all will be explained.
+
+At this very hour an amusing scene was enacting among the lunatics in the
+large hall of the asylum. One who professed magnetism was trying his skill
+upon a subject, to the great entertainment of his fellows. He was making
+the passes after a singular fashion, upon a docile fellow who sat bolt
+upright in a chair with a face of the most stolid gravity. Standing at a
+distance, he would rush up with long strides, make a wavy flourish with
+his hands over the face of the subject, and retreat as rapidly. Then with
+eager, swelling eyes, aiming with the fore-finger of each hand, he would
+run up and point at some phrenological bump upon the cranium. But the
+patient sat immovable, and was neither to be soothed into slumber, nor
+coaxed into giving any indication that the organs were excited; as is the
+case with the well-drilled _protegés_ of your itinerant lecturers.
+
+Nearly all the inmates were witnesses of this scene, except a few who were
+restricted, and one fair girl who walked in the garden sobbing; and never
+did tears fall out of more beautiful eyes, or shed over such a sweet face
+the interest of sorrow. They gushed profusely on the rosebud in her hand;
+fit emblem of herself; for she had not yet broke into the bloom of
+womanhood. Where tears flow, despair has been already softened to sorrow,
+and smiles may yet shine out of the darkness, as the bow of promise
+bridges only a firmament of cloud. This poor creature, frightened at a
+disturbance at the gate, fled like a fawn to her own apartment. The
+professor was lugged in by the head and ears, with unnecessary roughness.
+Appearances were much against him, as he always had a crazy look. His
+strange dress and equipments, his unshaven beard, his long hair straggling
+over his forehead, his long nose and long legs, his much-abused and
+bunged-up hat, which yawned wide open at the crown and showed the lining,
+wore the external tokens of a mind ill at ease. Added to this, a sickly
+smile shed a yellow glare over his features, of which the effect was
+neither natural nor pleasant; and as the lunatics pressed around, and the
+clowns still clutched him by the throat, even that passed away, and left
+an expression of bewilderment and undisguised dismay. At that moment the
+physician arrived, and glancing at the new subject just brought to the
+establishment, and concluding that his present wildness would need some
+coercion at first, requested him to be brought into the nearest apartment.
+The four formed a singular group. 'Sit down,' said the doctor, nodding
+calmly to the professor, as he prepared to study the case. 'Ha! ha!'
+exclaimed Professor Shaw, dropping into a chair, and striving hard to be
+amused at his predicament, 'ha! ha! ha! My dear Sir, ha! ha! yes, I think
+I may say ha! ha! ha!'--and he laughed so obstreperously as to set the
+whole company in a roar. 'This excursion for scientific purposes; near
+coming to an unpleasant termination; some of your poor fellows, doctor,'
+casting a knowing look at the clowns, 'are strongly possessed they brought
+me here against my will.'
+
+The doctor smiled.
+
+'Let me explain all,' said Mr. Shaw, recovering breath, and speaking with
+preternatural calmness. 'Oblige me first by having those men removed.
+Their presence disturbs me. I pity them from my lowest soul; but they
+have--it is ridiculous--ha! ha! ha! yes, it _is_ ridiculous--but they have
+hurt me very much and disturbed my equanimity. You should confine them
+more strictly, Sir, and not let them go at large to murder strangers by
+the way-side.'
+
+The doctor smiled.
+
+'In search of relaxation, during the intervals of a great work which I
+have in hand, having been made an honorary member of the Tinnecum
+Association, I came here for the prosecution of scientific purposes, and
+for the collection of botanical and mineralogical specimens, which I have
+at present in my breeches pocket.'
+
+RUSTICS. He! he! he! that's enough--see his eyes!
+
+SHAW. (_Smiling._) Doctor, how long have these subjects been in your
+institution? Their insanity has not taken a very mild form. Will you
+oblige me by removing them from the room? Indeed it hurts me to see the
+immortal mind astray.
+
+The doctor smiled.
+
+SHAW. (_Enthusiastically._) As I entered these doors, a most lovely being
+shot across my path. It was but an instant; a quick light, a momentary
+flash, and all was gone! But it was enough! I saw her! I never shall
+forget her. Who is she? That sweet girl has impressed her image on my
+soul!
+
+DOCTOR. My friend, be calm.
+
+SHAW. Oh, my dear Sir! understand me. I _am_ calm, I _am_ calm.
+
+DOCTOR. Perhaps you will be so kind as to inform me where your _friends_
+reside, and when you left them upon this journey.
+
+'My friends!' exclaimed the professor, with a bitter sneer; 'who are my
+friends? Where have I found any whose friendship was other than a name? My
+books, my cabinet, my studies, the great work on which I am now
+laboring--these are my friends; it is only through these that I shall be
+raised to fame. _Sic itur ad astra._'
+
+DOCTOR. I am satisfied that we had better secure----
+
+SHAW. Do you want any assistance, Sir? I will willingly help you to get
+these poor fellows to their rooms.
+
+RUSTICS. He's the cunningest we ever seen.
+
+DOCTOR. Yes, he would deceive any one. Wait a minute my men.
+
+SHAW. If you don't need me I'll bid you good day; I can't stay any longer.
+
+DOCTOR. Oh no, we can't let you go, in common humanity, till we have
+communicated with your friends.
+
+Professor Shaw, in the utmost alarm, attempted to plunge out of the room.
+He was laid violent hands on by all three; his indignation boiled over; he
+struggled most desperately, knocked down the doctor, and attempted to jump
+out of the window, but in the end was overcome, a straight-jacket put on
+him, the stones were taken out of his pocket, he was conducted to a
+separate apartment, and as the shades of night fell around him, he almost
+doubted himself whether he was in his sound mind. His wits seemed to be
+indeed scattered. In vain he tried to collect them, and to realize his
+present position, which was the most false and unfortunate one in which he
+had ever been placed. He charged the Devil with conspiracy. He had already
+sneered at the suggestion of having friends; how should he be the victim
+and laughter of his enemies! He imagined them holding their gaunt sides
+and shaking with a spectre-like malignity. Then he thought of the fair
+girl whom he had seen in the garden shedding tears on roses, and strove to
+weave a chaplet of verse which should be more unfading than flowers. What
+a strange destiny was his! The victim of untoward accidents, persecuted by
+some evil spirit, and leading an aimless, desultory life, which he yet
+feared would lead on to lunacy. What should he do in the present instance?
+Be patient? Yes, he would be calm, forgiving, philosophical as ever.
+Footsteps are approaching; the door of his cell opens; perhaps it is
+already the token of his release. Yes, one of his own townsmen enters.
+Alas! he owed the professor a grudge, and assured the doctor that he was
+cracked, and begged him to hold on to him by all means; he would go and
+inform his friends. 'Ha! ha! ha!' exclaimed Shaw, as the door closed;
+'there it is again; in luck as usual; ha! ha! ha!--ha! ha! ha!'
+
+As it grew dark, and he lay on his pallet, a crowd of thoughts and
+imaginations pursued him through a long sleep, and when he opened his eyes
+to the morning light, he gazed around the strange place with astonishment,
+and tried in vain to persuade himself that his present position was not a
+dream.
+
+In three days he was released from limbo; retracing his steps, with all
+the bugs and specimens which he had collected. And, for those who feel an
+interest in Professor Shaw, it may be agreeable to know, that in his
+wanderings, having discovered in a green lane, on the margin of a
+duck-pond, a district school in want of a pedagogue, he forthwith assumed
+the birch, and may be now seen at almost any hour of the day, in the midst
+of his noisy populace, commanding silence, or dusting them on their least
+honorable parts. 'Tough, are you? I'll see if I can find a tender spot.
+Come, no bawling, or I'll flog you till you stop. Thomas Jones, take your
+book, and stick your nose in the c-o-rner. First division may go out.
+First class in geography----'
+
+                                                              F. W. S.
+
+
+
+
+STANZAS
+
+TO THE SPIRITS OF MY THREE DEPARTED SISTERS.
+
+WRITTEN AT MID-WINTER.
+
+
+  Sweet sisters! ye have passed away,
+    In solemn silence one by one,
+  And left a brother here to stray,
+    In doubt and darkness--and alone!
+  For like three lamps of holy flame,
+    Ye shone upon my weary way,
+  Till a chill breath from heaven came,
+    And quenched for aye the kindly ray.
+
+  Where are ye now?--where are ye now?
+    Those loving hearts and spirits, where!
+  O'er three new graves in grief I bow,
+    But ye are gone--ye are not there!
+  The winds that sigh while wandering by,
+    Curl the bright snow in many a wreath,
+  And sing in mournful melody,
+    O'er the cold dust that sleeps beneath.
+
+  The birds that sang when ye were here,
+    Are singing in another clime;
+  Have left the hedge and forest sere,
+    And gone where all is summer-time.
+  The frail bright flowers that bloom'd around,
+    When ye were blooming bright as they,
+  Lie crushed and withered on the ground,
+    Their fragrance heavenward passed away.
+
+  And ye are gone where genial skies
+    And radiant suns eternal shine,
+  Where peaceful songs forever rise,
+    From saintly tongues and lips divine.
+  And like the flowers whose sweet perfume
+    Has left the soil and risen above,
+  Has risen from your silent tomb
+    The holy fragrance of your love.
+
+  But often when the silver beams
+    Of the pale stars are on my bed,
+  Ye come among my sweetest dreams,
+    And bend in silence o'er my head;
+  And throngs of bright imaginings
+    Float round and o'er me till the dawn;
+  I hear the fluttering of wings!
+    I start--I wake! but ye are gone.
+
+  Oh! I am sad; yet still the thought
+    That when this tired though willing hand
+  Its earthly destiny hath wrought,
+    Ye wait me in that distant land,
+  And that ye long to have me there,
+    More that I pine your absence here,
+  Shall heal the touch of every care
+    And quench the sting of every fear.
+
+  No marble stands with towering shaft
+    To catch the stranger's curious eye;
+  No tablet graved with flattering craft,
+    Tells where your silent ashes lie;
+  But there is one secluded spot
+    In the deep shadows of my soul,
+  Where stranger foot intrudeth not,
+    Nor winter's wanton tempests roll.
+
+  And there in Friendship's burial-ground
+    The willow of remembrance bends,
+  And ye my sisters there have found
+    A home among my choicest friends;
+  And modelled with etherial grace,
+    The form of HOPE with heavenward eyes,
+  Stands calmly on your burial-place,
+    And points her finger to the skies.
+
+                                                        I. G. HOLLAND.
+
+
+
+
+AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF THE PRAIRIE HERMIT.
+
+EDITED BY PETER VON GEIST.
+
+
+It happened on the twenty-seventh day of July, in the year of our Lord one
+thousand eight hundred and forty-two, that I, PETER VON GEIST, found
+myself, in the natural course of events, journeying on horse-back along
+the northern bank of the Ohio river, in the state of Illinois. The space
+between me and the house where I designed to stop, and the time between
+then and sun-down, were somewhat disproportionate; so I pricked gallantly
+forward; as gallantly at least as could be expected from a tired horse,
+and a knight whose recreant thoughts were intensely fixed on dollars and
+cents, supper, and other trifling affairs. By dint however of much
+patience in the steed, and much impatience in the rider, we got over the
+ground, and approached a house that had been in sight for some distance.
+
+It was placed on the summit of a steep, conical hill; there was no smoke
+from its chimney, or voices to be heard, or persons to be seen, or other
+signs of life, in its precincts. The grass grew high and green all around
+the hillock, and there was no road, not even a foot-path, visible on its
+side. Nevertheless, I dismounted, left my horse to improve the opportunity
+of snatching a light repast on the abundant herbage, and forced my way up
+to the top of the knoll.
+
+The building was constructed in the rude fashion of the country; but the
+chinking had fallen out from between the logs; the chimney had partly
+tumbled down; tall weeds sprung up between the stones of the door-steps;
+the door itself was fastened with a huge padlock; the windows were nearly
+all beaten in, and every thing about it gave evidence that it had not been
+inhabited for several years. The summit of the hill was smooth and level.
+A few stumps grew around the edge; and the ground seemed to have been, at
+some former time, a garden.
+
+The situation was exceedingly fine, and the view on all sides very
+beautiful. The eminence commanded on one hand three or four miles of the
+river, and on the other an unlimited tract of prairie. At the particular
+moment when I first visited it, the level sun-light came glancing over the
+face of flood and field, tinging every thing that it touched with its own
+mellow hue, and casting gigantic and ill-defined shadows of the hill, the
+house, and myself, on the plain beyond. At the distance of a mile and a
+half below, stood a couple of one-story houses, the logs of which they
+were built newly hewed, evidently of recent construction. The inhabitants
+of this old building, then, must have stood where I am standing, and gazed
+over the vast extent of country that is spread out before me, without
+meeting a single habitation of man, or any thing having life, except
+perhaps a wolf or a buffalo. And it could not have been desire of wealth
+that induced a family of refinement and taste, such as the little
+decorations and ornaments show that this was, to select this solitude for
+their home; for not more than an acre of land, at the foot of the hill,
+had ever been invaded by the plough.
+
+There were several circumstances like these, that were unusual and
+unaccountable; but not being in a mood just then to be much perplexed
+about it, I descended the knoll, remounted, and hurried on towards the
+more hospitable dwellings below.
+
+Of course, the traveller was received with a welcome, and his bodily wants
+speedily and abundantly cared for. After this most important duty had been
+satisfactorily performed, and quietude of spirit consequent thereon was
+restored to my breast, it chanced that the host and his blue-eyed,
+golden-haired, neatly-dressed, smiling-faced, half-matron, and
+half-girlish young wife, who had lately set up business on their own
+account, and I, seated ourselves without the door, to feel the cool air of
+the evening. It chanced too that the door faced the east; and the old
+house towered up darkly in the distance before us. In answer to my
+inquiries, they were able to give but little information concerning it,
+and that chiefly derived from others.
+
+It appeared that there was on the other side of the river, and a little
+lower down, a small settlement. It had stood there from time immemorial;
+at least, the memory of the tidy little wife did not run to the contrary,
+and she had received her birth and education there, and ought to know. She
+remembered, one of the first things that she could remember, a middle-aged
+gentleman, in a black hat and coat, who used to row over the river from
+the other shore in a small skiff, and walk into her father's store to make
+his purchases, with a grave, but not cold or forbidding face, and used to
+pat her on the head, with such a fatherly smile, and say a few words in
+such a kind tone, as to fill her little breast quite full with delight.
+She remembered more distinctly, a few years later, how this same gentleman
+used to come into the settlement as often as once-a-week, and how glad
+every one appeared to meet him and shake hands with him. The villagers
+seemed to repose unlimited confidence in him. The moment he landed,
+half-a-dozen were ready to ask his advice, or to show him papers, to see
+if all were correctly done. He was the umpire in all differences and
+quarrels, and seldom failed to send away the disputants at peace with each
+other. If there was a wedding, he of course must be present. On May-day,
+when the boys and girls went out into the woods to romp, and afterward to
+sit down to a rustic pic-nic, he was sure to walk into their midst, just
+at the right moment, bearing in his hand a wreath of flowers, so
+beautiful, and so tastefully made, that all the girls cried when at length
+it fell to pieces; and he would place it on the head of the Queen of May
+with such a gentle, sweet little speech, that she would blush up to the
+tips of her ears, and all her subjects would clap their hands and laugh
+out with pleasure.
+
+At Christmas parties his place was never empty; and while he was there,
+mirth never flagged. Perhaps their sports were not so boisterous as they
+would have been if he had not been a spectator; but they were quite as
+pleasant at the time, and a great deal pleasanter when looked back upon
+from the next day. He used to sit in one corner, by the huge, roaring
+fire, and look on, apparently as much interested as they themselves were.
+Nothing went amiss; and there was never wanting some slight, good-natured
+remark or act, to rectify mistakes and set them all going again.
+
+But much as he was loved by the villagers, he was no less respected. They
+did not even know his name. Many would have been glad to, and wearied
+themselves by indirect methods to find it out. But as no one had courage
+to ask him, and as it never happened to fall from him incidentally, they
+remained in the dark about it. He was known and addressed however, by the
+appellation of 'the Lawyer,' as their conversation with him was chiefly
+asking his advice on points of law too knotty for them, which he freely
+gave. He affected no mystery or reserve; yet there was something in his
+bearing, affable and unaristocratic as it was, that caused those very
+men--who, if the governor of the state had come among them, would have
+slapped him on the back, and offered him a glass of liquor--to rise in his
+presence and approach him with respect.
+
+My bright-eyed informant, with her musical voice, recollected, a good
+while ago, when she was about ten years old, and he had become gray and
+wrinkled--though he never needed a staff, nor was his eye dim--that he
+rowed over one spring afternoon, and requested the men to leave their work
+for a few minutes, and hear something that he had to say to them.
+Accordingly, they collected 'considerable of a little crowd' around her
+father's store. The lawyer stood in the door, while she made her way
+through the throng and sat down on the door-step, at his feet. She did not
+remember all that he said; only that he talked to them for about half an
+hour, in a calm, conversational tone, on the importance of building
+school-houses and educating their children. They seemed to be much pleased
+with what he said; and after another half hour's free discussion, the
+whole village turned out, and went to work felling trees and hewing
+timber; and in the course of a few days a substantial school-house was
+erected. From that time forth, she and all her brothers and sisters, and
+all her play-mates, at stated hours and seasons, were rigidly imprisoned
+therein, and diligently instructed in the rudiments of science.
+
+About this time, she and a brother who was about two years older embarked
+on a voyage of discovery. They pulled up the river, at least he did, for
+she only held the rudder, two miles, till they come in sight of the
+residence of the Great Unknown. There stood the old house, as she had
+often gazed at it with wondering eyes from the opposite bank, just as
+grim, and dark, and gloomy. It had been their intention to make an open
+descent upon it, and boldly beat up the premises. But now, the building
+was so silent, and deserted, and frowning, their hearts failed them, and
+they crept cautiously along up the southern shore till they were concealed
+by a bend in the river; then striking across, they floated down, by
+accident as it were, close under the northern bank. When they arrived
+under the hill, on the top of which the object of their curiosity was
+placed, they looked anxiously up at it; but every thing was as silent as
+the grave. Seeing it thus unguarded, they took courage, ran the skiff
+ashore, and prepared to land. But when on the point of stepping on the
+beach, the door of the house opened, the man himself walked out therefrom
+and advanced to the brow of the eminence. There he stood; black all over,
+except his face, which at that instant appeared to wear a peculiarly
+terrible and ferocious aspect. The children were frightened, and hastily
+shoved off their little cockle-boat. But the man came down to the edge of
+the water, and called them by name to return. _She_ thought how far off
+home was, and no one near to afford assistance in case of need; and when
+she thought, she would have been glad to have retreated as fast as
+possible; but her brother was commander of the expedition, and without
+more words he pushed back to land.
+
+They went ashore, neither of them altogether devoid of fear and trembling,
+and sat down on the grassy bank, by the side of their venerable friend. He
+soon talked away their timidity; and seemed so mild and affectionate, that
+in a few minutes they were chatting and laughing as merrily as ever
+children could. He showed them his garden, his trees, and flowers, and
+fruits. He gave them a little basket, which they filled with strawberries,
+some of which he squeezed between his fingers and rubbed on her cheeks, to
+see he said, if they could be made any redder. In fine, he amused them so
+much with his stories, and was so pleasant and kind, that they fell more
+than ever in love with him; and after promising a dozen times to come and
+see him every week while it was summer, they returned gaily home.
+
+But the old man died at last. The children went up one sunshiny morning to
+pay him a visit, and found the house all still, and the door locked. They
+knocked and knocked, but no one answered. They peeped in at the window and
+saw him stretched at length on the bed, fully dressed, with a handkerchief
+over his face, and his gray hair lying dishevelled on the pillow. They
+called to him; but still there was no answer. Then they became alarmed,
+and hurried home. Some men came up, broke open the door, and found him
+dead. Without sickness, or premonition of any kind, he had calmly passed
+away.
+
+They dug his grave by the side of the cottage, and laid him in it, with
+his feet to the east and his head to the west; and left him to rest there,
+unknown and unnamed in death, as he had been in life. The whole village,
+men, and women, and children, mourned for him many days. But when the days
+of lamentation were ended, and they saw his face no more, though their
+grief abated, his memory did not, and has not yet passed from their
+hearts.
+
+I observed the voice of my hostess to falter more than once, while telling
+this simple and dream-like story of her childhood. I could see by the
+night-lights too that her bright eyes sometimes became brighter and
+sometimes dimmer; both of which circumstances made it only the more
+pleasant for me to sit and listen to her words.
+
+'There were no letters,' she said, found in his possession from which
+they could learn his name. There were no writings of any kind, except a
+bundle of old papers, which she had looked into, but they seemed to be
+only disconnected thoughts and memoranda of events and feelings, and threw
+no light on his history. At my request she produced a lamp and spread out
+the papers on the table. I turned over the worn and time-stained
+manuscripts; but the leaves were loose, unnumbered, and put together at
+random, and it was some time before I could find a place to begin at.
+
+At length, however, I managed to bring a few sheets in juxtaposition,
+such, that with a little stretch of the imagination I could discern a
+slight connection between them. And thus, by dim lamp-light, alone, with
+the silence of night around, and the old house lifting up its dark and
+shadowy form in the distance, I read some of the old man's papers.
+
+Those which I read I took the liberty of putting into my portmanteau,
+arguing that though they might be of no use to me, they certainly would be
+of none to their present possessors. Some of these papers having appeared
+in the KNICKERBOCKER, and met with 'acceptance bounteous,' I am induced to
+transcribe for the edification of the reader, a portion of the
+autobiography of the writer. It is contained in the last chapter, or
+sheet, and is written in a different and more aged hand than the rest; and
+gives the 'moving why' of the old man, in isolating himself from his kind,
+in one of the great green deserts of the West, 'for which the speech of
+England hath no name.'
+
+
+A DREAM OF YOUTH.
+
+Sixty years old! Many sorrows, many storms encountered, both within and
+without, and much journeying along the road of life, have left their
+traces on my features and on my head; but I am thankful that they have not
+touched my heart. I live alone, but not solitary; for I hold daily
+communion with the absent and beloved; communion also, sad but sweet, with
+the departed. The forms of those once hated too, are ready to rise up at
+my bidding; but they are never summoned. For I wish all within me to be
+gentleness and repose; and it ill becomes me on this my last failing
+foothold on the verge of the grave, to allow thoughts of hatred to stir up
+the turbid waters of bitterness which have been slumbering so many years
+in my heart.
+
+So I stand up here calmly at the end of my journey, and look back on the
+path which I have trodden. And what a path! Far back it runs, growing
+fainter and narrower, till I lose sight of it, an indistinct line, in the
+distance. I shall not say how many steep hills it crosses, where it might
+better have kept in the plains; how many deviations it makes from a
+straight course, apparently for the sole purpose of wandering through
+difficult places; or how often it runs along over burning sandy deserts,
+parallel with, and but a few steps from, the verge of a cool and pleasant
+meadow. I shall say nothing of this; for of the million of paths that
+intersect this vast plain of Life, there is probably not one which, when
+the traveller looks back upon it, does not like mine seem marked out by
+the veriest caprice of chance. Each one gropes its way along, like the
+crooked track of a blind man; and when it would appear the easier and
+almost the only way to keep on up the gentle eminence, whereon might have
+been found renown and happiness, by that same constant fatality, it
+suddenly turns short off to one side, plunges down into the rocky ravine,
+and pants on, for many a weary mile. That man shapes not his own ends, is
+a truth which I felt long since, and which each day's experience brings
+home to me with the freshness of a new discovery. It is a truth which
+rises up and mocks us, when we sit down to calculate or plan for the
+future; and it almost staggers our confidence in the connection between
+human means and the desired result.
+
+But what a path! Proceeding out of the darkness of morning, it struggles
+through a brief day, sometimes in sunshine, and sometimes in shade, and
+ends in the darkness of night. I glance along it, and the care-worn faces
+of the companions of my manhood rise up, on either side, and farther back,
+the speaking countenances of the friends of my youth. It is but a narrow
+space, the land of Youth, and soon passed; but pleasant, and full of
+images of beauty. The sun is not so bright and hot upon it as on some
+other parts of the path; but we do not expect happiness in the garish
+light of mid-day and reality. The mellowness of a summer evening sunset
+lays on it, and thereby it becomes a faëry land, a land of bliss and
+dreams. How throng up, as I gaze, the forms of those early and best-loved
+friends! How distinct and life-like, even at this distance, are their
+characters and features! They are all there; not one name has been erased,
+and not one picture dimmed, on the tablet of memory. The same warm smile
+of kindling pleasure greets me; the same hands are thrown out, as if to
+touch my own; and those bright eyes grow brighter as they are turned
+toward me.
+
+It is with such companions that I spend the last days of my earthly
+pilgrimage; and thus, as I said before, though alone I am not solitary. Is
+not such companionship sweet? When they visit me, I throw off old age, as
+a garment. Smiling thoughts come gently over me, and life and happiness,
+as of wont, course like the mad blood of fever through my veins. I feel
+over again those old feelings, repass through those same scenes, and my
+heart beats faster or grows pale in the same places and in the same manner
+as it once did. The old fields and houses and roads come up too, clothed
+at my command, in the snows of winter, or in the beauty of summer. Old
+scenes, but still fresh and young; and I am sometimes tempted to believe
+that the intervening years have been the illusion of a dream, and that I
+am awakening in their midst.
+
+All this, some will say, is the weakness of age. It seems to me to be
+rather its strength. The future in life is nothing; and what is the bare
+present to any one? The past, then, alone is left me. And if by living in
+it I can keep my affections alive, instead of letting their fires,
+according to the course of nature, or rather of custom, die down into cold
+ashes, I do not call myself weak if I do as much as possible forget the
+present.
+
+I had, when I was young, many dreams; such as I dare say all have. They
+seem such to me now, only not at all shadowy. On the contrary, they become
+more and more like reality as my distance from them increases, while their
+hues are as well marked and distinct as ever. Many and bright; but the
+brightest of all, the dream of my youth, is that which flashes across my
+recollection, when there comes into my heart the thought of my cousin
+Jane!
+
+My cousin JANE! Her form comes up before me, light and elastic and joyous,
+as though summoned for the first time, and as though it had not been my
+daily visitor for many a long year. Time writes no wrinkle on thy snowy
+brow, my first love! That glad smile knows no weariness, and I know no
+weariness in gazing on it. Those deep eyes, full of feeling; those soft
+words that thrill; I see and hear and feel them now, as I saw and heard
+and felt them first. Wilt thou never be tired of looking up to me, with
+that sweet, timid, confiding, tearful glance? Will the rising flush of thy
+cheek and thy subdued smile, be always fresh as now, and as in that hour
+when first we met? Thou hast been my companion, my unmurmuring,
+ever-present, unchanging companion, through many a dark time and stormy
+scene; and thou and the heart in which thou livest will die together.
+
+We met, my cousin Jane and I, when she was just putting on womanhood; had
+begun to find out the depths of her own heart, to doubt whether those
+depths ever could be filled, and to feel that unless they were, life would
+be but a blank. Not that there were not many willing enough to love her
+and be loved; the beauty of her form and character drew around her a crowd
+of admirers. But among them all, her nice perception saw that there was
+not one, of whom the exterior did not form by far the largest part of the
+man. Her admirers were good, honorable men; she respected and esteemed
+them; but still, gentle and timid and humble as she was, without knowing
+why, she felt that there was an impassable gulf between her and them.
+Their thoughts were not like her thoughts. Her social disposition led her
+much into their way, and though she tried to avoid it, she was told more
+than once, that the happiness or misery of her devoted lover depended on
+her smiles. It was a painful situation for one of her retiring and
+benevolent disposition, to be sure; and it is doubtful to which of the
+two, the lover or the mistress, every such rejection caused the keenest
+pang.
+
+But this was not the end of it. Malice soon prefixed to her name the
+epithet scornful; and among her school-girl friends there were some who
+always passed by on the other side. Poor girl! She wept bitter tears over
+these sneers and slights, for she had not studied the world enough to
+learn and despise its despicable things. Even then, dear girl! too, she
+tried to love all the world, that is, all her native village. And she
+succeeded, at least far enough to forgive them all, and thus to feel her
+own mind at peace and resigned. But there was a tinge of sadness left on
+her Grecian face after all; for to the young, when the out-stretched hand
+of kindly feeling is coldly put aside, the grief is as great as though the
+repulse were deserved.
+
+And I--I hardly know what I was, when I first saw my cousin. I was without
+father or mother; the world seemed wide and rather cheerless; and there
+was a settled impression on my mind, that it was my business to glide
+along through life, calmly and noiselessly; attach my affections to no
+external object; exist without being the cause of joy, and die without
+being the cause of tears, to any human being. I came and took up my abode
+in the pleasant village where my uncle resided, and set down to gain some
+knowledge of that noble science, civil law. I took up the study, not
+because I had any intention of engaging in the active duties of the
+profession, but for the name's sake, and because I loved it for itself. My
+uncle, he was a kind, good man, showed himself a father to me, took me
+into his family, tried to encourage and rouse me; and for his kindness,
+though it failed of its end, he had at the time, and has always had, my
+sincere though unexpressed thanks.
+
+I had hardly become acquainted with my relatives, uncle, aunt, and their
+three children, when I entered my office, shut the door, and immersed
+myself in books and my own thoughts. That those thoughts were not of the
+most joyous nature, I need hardly say. Still, looking back to that period,
+from where I stand now, I cannot say they were misanthropic. If I did not
+love all my species, it was because I saw nothing lovely in any body; but
+I did not hate them. I felt that I was an insignificant, an unnoticeable
+drop in the great world; that it was my misfortune to be so constituted as
+to be incapable of uniting closely and mingling with other drops; and
+that, without offending my neighbors, it would be my duty and pleasure to
+keep myself distinct from the rest, and hidden in some obscure corner. In
+one word, the prevailing feeling was, that nobody cared for me, and I
+cared for nobody.
+
+And yet, strange as it may appear, I was far from being unhappy.
+Sometimes, it is true, my in-turned thoughts became weary, and pined for
+human fellowship; and I grew sick at heart, as I contemplated the future,
+a vast, dry, waste, desolate desert of parched sand, over which I must
+toil and thirst, without one single being to speak a word of kindness, or
+give me a drop of water. But these were fits, fits of wildness, I called
+them, and seldom lasted long. And when they came over me, one attempt to
+link my sympathies with others was always sufficient to throw me back into
+a state of mind harder and colder than before. For it was so fated, that
+all my overtures, and they were not many, were met with open repulse or
+wary suspicion. It is true, suspicion is a necessary ingredient in human
+character; but I did not think of this then, and so it had the same effect
+as though I had found, indeed I thought I _had_ found, that coldness and
+insensibility were the prominent characteristics of the race.
+
+And yet, as I said before, I was not unhappy. If there was no happiness,
+there was at least no unhappiness, in sitting down for hours, and brooding
+over my own idiosyncrasies. It made me proud, to see and despise the
+weakness of others; and it gave me stern joy, to walk about and feel that
+there was a kind of armed neutrality between them and me. By degrees there
+arose, also, a gloomy pleasure in dwelling on, and picturing in deeper
+colors, the failings and baseness of my neighbors. Humble and weak as I
+knew myself to be, I exulted in my strength, because there were some still
+more weak and humble. Far back as my recollection ran, there had never
+been any thing in the world that seemed to me worthy of very much exertion
+or toil to obtain; but now I first learned to despise others for
+possessing feeble energies, as well as for directing them to the
+attainment of little objects. I am afraid, if left to myself, I should
+have hardened into a genuine hater; but I was not left to myself.
+
+I have mentioned my uncle's kindness; his whole family were not less kind.
+My cousin Jane, especially, saw that I was silent, and fancied that I was
+unhappy, and tried, by a thousand little devices and arts, to lull me into
+forgetfulness of myself, and entice me into a more sociable frame of mind.
+I will not say that I was insensible to her enticements; I rather liked
+her, she was so gentle and mild and considerate. There was an air of truth
+and simplicity about her; she would sit herself down so cheerfully to
+amuse me, and there was such a sparkle in her blue eyes when, as she said,
+I condescended to interest myself in her little affairs, that I began, at
+length, to love to be with her. But proud as I was, when I viewed mankind
+at a distance, I no sooner came in contact with any one, who was not
+immeasurably beneath me, than I felt myself sinking immeasurably beneath
+him; and so, like a fool as I was, I fancied that all my cousin's kindness
+was the result of her sense of duty to her relation; or, what was worse,
+of pity for his moroseness. This faint suspicion became, in a little
+while, a strong certainty; and I confined myself more closely to my books,
+and looked into my cousin's guileless, enthusiastic face, with coldness.
+
+I had known her now a year, and yet I hardly knew her at all; for I had
+seen her scarcely ever, except when it was impossible to avoid it, and
+those occasions were not frequent or long enough to enable me to learn
+perfectly her mind and character. From every such meeting, I went away
+resolved to see her no more in future; which resolution was sure to be
+overruled by second and more bitter thoughts. How I lived during that
+year, I scarcely know; or how it was that I grew uneasy away from her, and
+frequently surprised myself courting her society. But as time rolled on,
+so it was. There was a fascination about her, the magic of which was, that
+it charmed to sleep my vigilant suspicion. I did not perceive any change
+in myself, when night after night I was with her, talking to her about
+poetry, beauty, love, and the thousand themes that interest the
+unrestrained youthful heart; or that I was different from what I used to
+be, when I listened to her, with a gush of pleasure, as she spoke at once
+with lips and eyes, and in speaking, disclosed the unimagined riches of
+her mind and heart. So gradual was the change, that I was wholly unaware
+of it.
+
+But of one thing I was aware; the face of nature and of man underwent a
+strange and sudden change in appearance. I looked into the face of my
+neighbor, and lo, he was my brother! The fire of benevolence and sympathy
+warmed every vein, and a new life animated every nerve within me. I felt
+no longer that I was alone, but that indissoluble cords bound me to the
+whole human family, to every being in whose nostrils was the breath of
+life; and that for his good, as well as for my own, it was my business to
+labor. New motives of action, (or rather motives of action, for there were
+none before,) were set before me; and I felt light of heart and wing;
+eager to bound forward and lend the strength of my arm to the cause of the
+race. The face of nature too was altered. Every part that came within the
+range of my vision, her seasons, her vestments in winter and summer, her
+sunshine and clouds, each one was a melody, and all together made harmony.
+Still, I was scarcely sensible that I was different from what I was a year
+ago; for at each period I felt that I was in my natural and proper state
+of mind. So slight are the influences necessary to turn the young heart
+into the permanent channel of selfishness, hatred and unhappiness, or into
+that of love and peace!
+
+It was not long before I found out that I loved my cousin Jane. How I
+first discovered it I do not remember; but I do remember a firm and
+abiding resolution, even then, that I would not love her. I sat down by
+her side, I listened to her music, with that distinct impression. I would
+not for the world have had any body suspect my feelings, because I was
+ashamed of the weakness. I had persuaded myself, and could not convince
+myself to the contrary, that there was no hope of her returning my
+passion. And yet, with the words on my lips, 'This is folly--I will not!'
+I yielded myself to the delicious current, forgot all the world and
+myself, and in the intoxication of the hour, saw visions and dreamed
+dreams.
+
+But there came a shock; one which awoke me from a trance like that of the
+Opium-eater. It was when I saw that my cousin's smiles and attentions were
+not all devoted to me. There was another, a young man of promise and
+expectations, a year or two my senior, and far beyond me in the graces and
+polish of society, who had lately become intimate in my uncle's family.
+Engaged in the same pursuits, and being much with him, I had rather liked
+him; in fact I liked him very much. He had seen, admired, and in less than
+six months, _loved_ my Cousin Jane: this I knew, for jealousy is
+keen-eyed. You will not wonder then that I hated him; not on his own
+account--alter his feelings toward her, and I should have felt toward him
+as before; but on account of his love--hated him with a deadly hatred.
+
+It would be useless to tell how often I have sat down and watched them,
+when my cousin's sensitive countenance would brighten at his bright
+thoughts, or burst forth into a merry laugh at his brilliant wit and ready
+repartee; or how often the iron has entered into my soul when I have seen
+her hang on his arm, and listen in breathless attention to his lightest
+word, and testify in a thousand ways her pleasure at his coming, and in
+his presence. And _he_, he looked on me with the most immovable
+indifference. He did not seem to consider me worthy of his attention; even
+as a rival. He went straight forward, calmly and quietly, as though I had
+not existed; and if he ever glanced at my pretensions, it was perhaps with
+a smile of confident success. I knew he loved her; I fancied that she
+loved him, and I hated them both for it.
+
+I went into my office one day--if it were not part of the dream I would
+not tell it--in a state of partial insanity. I knew, saw, heard, felt
+nothing but one unalterable purpose of revenge. There happened to be a
+small pistol lying in the back room; I took it up, and carefully loaded
+it; loaded it without the tremor of a single muscle, for my heart was
+lead. I put it into my pocket, and walked the streets up and down, an hour
+or two, or it may have been four hours. I did not take count of the time.
+The heavens reeled above me, and the earth reeled beneath. At last he
+came. A thrill, the first that day, a thrill of triumph ran through my
+whole frame. When we met I stopped and took hold of the pistol in my
+pocket, but had not power to draw my hand out again; the strings of
+volition seemed broken. He stopped also; looked at me in some surprise;
+made a remark that I 'did not appear to be well,' and passed on. I looked
+after him, sick at heart with revenge deferred, and cursed my own
+pusillanimity.
+
+Well, well, we will let that pass. I had yielded my soul to the Author of
+Hatred for a time; but we will let it pass, and strive to forget it; I
+have been trying to ever since; I hope I shall succeed better in future.
+It is pleasant if we can think that the results of our evil passions do
+not extend beyond ourselves; and to me, it is pleasant to think that I did
+not break my gentle cousin's heart, by letting her know that she had
+nearly driven me mad.
+
+It was a month after this. How the intervening time had been spent, in
+what thoughts, and hopes, and fears, it would not be profitable to tell,
+or to recollect. I was sitting one evening by my cousin's side; it was
+growing late, and we were alone. I had been heated, as though with wine,
+and had probably talked incoherently. The conversation turned on that
+never-failing theme, love. She delighted to hear me speak on that subject;
+she said I spoke eloquently. If eloquence consists in earnestness, no
+doubt I did. It began in sportiveness, but before long became deeply
+serious and interesting.
+
+'And you do not believe, my grave cousin,' said she, in her own
+half-jesting, wholly earnest way, 'that a woman can love as deeply and
+long as the man who loves her?'
+
+'Bah!' said I, bitterly, 'women sometimes, like men, are revengeful,
+proud, or ambitious, but it is on a smaller scale. Every thing about them,
+every feeling and impulse is on a small scale. Very good objects they make
+for men to love; because, when one _will_ be such a fool, it doesn't much
+matter where he places his affection.'
+
+The poor girl looked grieved, but responded with a semblance of gaiety
+nevertheless: 'Ah, you think so now, but you will be just such a fool
+yourself, one of these days; and then you will find out that it is
+necessary for a woman to have a soul; and more than that--that she has
+one.'
+
+'Much obliged for your flattering opinion,' said I. 'But see here, my
+bonny Jane, did it never enter into your innocent little heart to think
+how _you_ would love?'
+
+'Oh yes,' she answered quickly; 'but that is all guess-work. I don't know,
+because I haven't yet found a man to my taste.'
+
+Of course I knew that I could not be to her taste; but a plain man does
+not like to be told that he is ugly, though he may be perfectly conscious
+of the fact. And so this avowal, which was made with the most unthinking
+honesty and simplicity, while it added weight to my despair, by a very
+usual consequence, made me desperate.
+
+'You are certain,' I asked, after a pause, 'that you do not know what love
+is by experience?'
+
+'Perfectly,' she answered, half laughing.
+
+'And that you mean to know, some time?'
+
+'To be sure,' said she, 'when the right man and the right time come.'
+
+'I do not know,' said I, beginning slowly and calmly; but before the
+sentence was half completed, my voice and thoughts had escaped from under
+my control; 'I do not know who the right man for you may be, but I--_I_
+love you--love you--love you!'
+
+She looked at me for a few seconds, with a countenance filled with
+astonishment, not unmingled with alarm. She would have thought it a jest;
+but my manner probably convinced her that I was far from jesting. She
+tried to smile, but it was a painful effort, and she found it much easier
+to conceal her face in her hands and weep.
+
+My recollection of the subsequent events of that evening is extremely dim.
+There was a confused crowd of flying thoughts; many tears and much
+friendship on one side, and much love on the other. She had received me as
+I knew she would, and though by the confession there was a great weight
+removed from my breast, the anguish was not less intense. One thing,
+however, among the hurried occurrences of that hour, I did not lose sight
+of, and that was pride. She did not suspect at the time how much of my
+heart, not to say existence, was bound up in her, or how greatly both were
+affected by her answer.
+
+The closing scene of the interview is the one which I most love to
+remember. We were standing at the door, her hand in mine, a mournful smile
+on her lips, and a tear in her eye. That bright, gentle face was pale with
+sorrow, and pity, and pain, and above all with fear. I gazed on it a
+moment, but in that moment the picture was graven indelibly on my memory.
+The 'good night' was spoken; and that is the last time I ever saw my
+cousin Jane.
+
+The next morning I sat down at an inn by the way-side, several miles
+distant from home, and sent back a few lines of farewell:
+
+'My only beloved! You must pardon me for this note. The adieu of last
+evening was only for the night; I wish to say good bye this morning, for a
+longer time. Your answer to my suit was not unexpected; in fact, I knew it
+would be as it was; and it was only a fatality, a blind impulse, that
+drove me to make that disclosure. I fear that it has given you pain, and I
+beg you to forgive my thoughtlessness. And in turn, you may rest assured
+that I forgive you for all the anguish and sickness of spirit that I have
+suffered on your account. There is nothing to be forgiven; I know that you
+would not cause unhappiness to any one, and it has been my own folly and
+madness. But I promise not to lay it up in my heart against you. I promise
+that in future years, wherever my lot may be cast, you shall be in my
+memory, only my pure, sweet, innocent cousin. And so, blessings be on your
+head! I go forth a vagabond and a wanderer on the face of the earth. It is
+probable that you will never hear from me again; and I pray you to forget
+our last interview, that your thoughts may be only peace. I would live in
+your remembrance as I was when we first met. And do not think, because
+long years of silence and wide lands and many mountains divide us, that
+your cousin has forgotten you. Your image lives in his heart and can never
+die!'
+
+
+
+
+STANZAS WRITTEN IN INDISPOSITION.
+
+BY THE LATE WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK.
+
+
+  I.
+
+  The Spring is fair, when early flowers
+    Unfold them to the golden sun;
+  When, singing to the gladsome hours,
+    Blue streams through vernal meadows run;
+  When from the woods and from the sky
+    The birds their joyous anthems pour;
+  And Ocean, filled with melody,
+    Sends his glad billows to the shore.
+
+
+  II.
+
+  The Spring is sweet: its balmy breath
+    Is rapture to the wearied breast,
+  When vines with roses fondly wreathe,
+    Fann'd by soft breezes from the West;
+  When, opening by the cottage eave,
+    The earliest buds invite the bee;
+  And brooks their icy bondage leave,
+    To dance in music toward the sea.
+
+
+  III.
+
+  The Spring is gay: but to my heart
+    The glorious hues she used to wear,
+  As sunset clouds in gloom depart,
+    Have vanish'd in the empty air:
+  They move not now my spirit's wing,
+    As in the stainless days of yore:
+  The happy dreams they used to bring
+    Have pass'd--and they will come no more.
+
+
+  IV.
+
+  Not that those dreams have lost their sway--
+    Not that my heart hath lost its chords;
+  Still with affection tuned, they play,
+    And leap at friendship's kindly words;
+  But 'tis that to my languid eye
+    A _newness_ from life's scene hath flown,
+  Which once upon the open sky,
+    And o'er the teeming earth, was thrown.
+
+
+  V.
+
+  Yes! there IS _something_, which no more
+    In Nature's gorgeous round I find;
+  Something that charm'd in days of yore,
+    And filled with Sabbath peace my mind;
+  Which added lustre to the flower,
+    And verdure to the field and tree,
+  And wings to every sunny hour,
+    While roseate health remained with me!
+
+
+  VI.
+
+  But Time's stern wave hath roll'd along,
+    And now on Manhood's waste I stand,
+  And mourn young Fancy's faded throng
+    Of radiant hopes and visions bland;
+  Yet, kindling o'er my onward way,
+    The light of love divine I see,
+  And hear a voice which seems to say:
+    'Pilgrim! in Heaven there's rest for thee!'
+
+_May, 1832._
+
+
+
+
+DISGUISED DERIVATIVE WORDS IN ENGLISH.
+
+BY A NEW CONTRIBUTOR.
+
+
+Derivative words in English, as in other languages, are usually formed on
+regular principles. Some few of them, however, especially those derived
+from foreign languages, and coming into extensive use, are so corrupted or
+disguised, as greatly to obscure the derivation.
+
+The following are examples:
+
+1. CHURCH and KIRK: (Anglo-Sax. _circ_ and _cyric_, Germ. _kirche_, old
+Germ. _chirihha_, Gr. [Greek: kyriakon], as if _the Lord's house_, derived
+from [Greek: kyrios], _the Lord_, and this from [Greek: kyros], _power_,
+_authority_;) a Christian temple.
+
+2. CLOWN: (Lat. _colônus_, from the root _col_, to cultivate;) a rustic.
+Compare Germ. _Köln_ from Lat. _Colonia Agrippina_; also Lat. _patrônus_
+from _pater_.
+
+3. DROPSY: (Fr. _hydropisie_, Portug. and Span. _hidropesia_, Ital.
+_idropisia_, Lat. _hydrops_ and _hydropisis_, Gr. [Greek: hydrôps],
+derived from [Greek: hydôr], water;) a corruption of _hydropsy_, an
+unnatural collection of water in the body.
+
+4. PARCHMENT: (Fr. _parchemin_, Portug. _pergaminho_, Span. _pergamino_,
+Ital. _pergamena_; also Germ. and Dutch _pergament_; Lat. _pergamena_,
+scil. _charta_, Gr. [Greek: Pergamênê], scil. [Greek: Chartê], from
+_Pergamus_, a city of Asia Minor;) skin prepared for writing.
+
+5. PERIWIG and PERUKE: (Fr. _perruque_, Span. _peluca_, Ital. _parruca_;
+also Germ. _perrucke_, Dutch _parruik_, Swed. _peruk_, Dan. _perryk_, Tr.
+_percabhaic_, Gael. _pior-bhuic_; from Lat. _pilus_;) an artificial cap of
+hair.
+
+6. PRIEST: (Anglo-Sax. _priost_, _preost_, Germ. and Dutch _priester_,
+Iceland _prestr_, Dan. and Swed. _præst_; also old Fr. _prestre_, Fr.
+_prêtre_, Portug. _presbytero_, Span. _presbitero_, Ital. _prete_, Latin
+_presbyter_, Gr. [Greek: presbyteros], comparative of [Greek: presbys],
+old;) one who officiates in sacred offices.
+
+7. RICKETS: (Fr. _rachitis_, Portug. _rachitis_, Span. _raquitis_, Lat.
+_rachitis_, Gr. [Greek: rhachitis], from [Greek: rhachis], the back or
+spine;) a disease of children.
+
+8. SCIATICA: (Fr. _sciatique_, Portug. _sciatica_, _ciatica_, Span.
+_ciatica_, Ital. _sciatica_, Lat. _ischias_, gen. _adis_, Gr. [Greek:
+ischias], gen. [Greek: ados], from [Greek: ischion], the hip;) the
+hip-gout.
+
+9. SUCH: (Anglo-Sax. _swilc_, Meso-Goth. _swaleiks_, old Germ. _solîh_,
+Germ. _solcher_; composed of _swa_ or _so_, the ancient modal case of the
+demonstrative pronoun, and the ancient form of Eng. _like_;) a
+demonstrative adjective of quality, denoting _of that kind_ or _sort_.
+
+10. WHICH: (Anglo-Sax. _hulic_, _hwylc_, _hwilc_, _hwelc_, Meso-Goth.
+_hweleiks_, or _hwileiks_, old Germ. _huelih_, Germ. _welcher_; composed
+of _hwe_ or _hwin_, the ancient modal case of the interrogative pronoun,
+and the ancient form of Eng. _like_;) properly an interrogative adjective
+of quality, denoting _of what kind_ or _sort_? but in use an interrogative
+partitive adjective.
+
+11. WIG: a mutilation of the word _periwig_; see _periwig_ above.
+
+
+
+
+NEW-ENGLAND'S SABBATH BELLS.
+
+
+  I.
+
+  How sweet upon the morning air, the chime of Sabbath-bells,
+  As full and clear upon the ear the solemn music swells!
+  From many a church in sunny vale, and on the green hill side,
+  The jewels of New-England's crown, her glory and her pride.
+
+
+  II.
+
+  The busy hum of busy men, this morn forgets to wake,
+  In quiet deep the hushed winds sleep, as fearful they shall break
+  The holy silence which o'erspreads all nature like a spell,
+  With which in music sweet accords the Sabbath-morning bell.
+
+
+  III.
+
+  Those Sabbath-bells--they call us not to piles of mossy stone,
+  Temples of yore, with age now hoar, and ivy overgrown,
+  Through whose stained windows softly creeps a dim religious light,
+  Seeming as it were sanctified unto the Christian's sight.
+
+
+  IV.
+
+  Nor do they tell of royal courts, in which to worship GOD,
+  Where nobles gay in bright array bend to their monarch's nod;
+  No costly paintings please the eye, nor trappings rich and rare,
+  To draw the humble Christian's heart from sacred praise and prayer.
+
+
+  V.
+
+  But to the simple, hallowed fane, we turn our willing feet,
+  Where, rank unknown, the free alone in humble worship meet;
+  While 'Holiness unto the LORD' upon the walls we read,
+  No other ornament than this, no other record need.
+
+_New-Haven, May 10, 1844._                                          A.
+
+
+
+
+A PASSAGE
+
+FROM A LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN.
+
+BY THE AUTHOR OF THE SKETCH-BOOK.
+
+
+While the veteran Taric was making his wide circuit through the land, an
+expedition under Magued the renegado proceeded against the city of
+Cordova. The inhabitants of that ancient place had beheld the great army
+of Don Roderick spreading like an inundation over the plain of the
+Guadalquiver, and had felt confident that it must sweep the infidel
+invaders from the land. What then was their dismay, when scattered
+fugitives, wild with horror and affright, brought them tidings of the
+entire overthrow of that mighty host, and the disappearance of the king?
+In the midst of their consternation, the Gothic noble, Pelistes, arrived
+at their gates, haggard with fatigue of body and anguish of mind, and
+leading a remnant of his devoted cavaliers, who had survived the dreadful
+battle of the Guadalete. The people of Cordova knew the valiant and
+steadfast spirit of Pelistes, and rallied round him as a last hope.
+'Roderick is fallen,' cried they, 'and we have neither king nor captain:
+be unto us as a sovereign; take command of our city, and protect us in
+this hour of peril!'
+
+The heart of Pelistes was free from ambition, and was too much broken by
+grief to be flattered by the offer of command; but he felt above
+everything for the woes of his country, and was ready to assume any
+desperate service in her cause. 'Your city,' said he, 'is surrounded by
+walls and towers, and may yet check the progress of the foe. Promise to
+stand by me to the last, and I will undertake your defence.' The
+inhabitants all promised implicit obedience and devoted zeal: for what
+will not the inhabitants of a wealthy city promise and profess in a moment
+of alarm? The instant, however, that they heard of the approach of the
+Moslem troops, the wealthier citizens packed up their effects and fled to
+the mountains, or to the distant city of Toledo. Even the monks collected
+the riches of their convents and churches, and fled. Pelistes, though he
+saw himself thus deserted by those who had the greatest interest in the
+safety of the city, yet determined not to abandon its defence. He had
+still his faithful though scanty band of cavaliers, and a number of
+fugitives of the army; in all amounting to about four hundred men. He
+stationed guards, therefore, at the gates and in the towers, and made
+every preparation for a desperate resistance.
+
+In the mean time, the army of Moslems and apostate Christians advanced,
+under the command of the Greek renegado, Magued, and guided by the traitor
+Julian. While they were yet at some distance from the city, their scouts
+brought to them a shepherd, whom they had surprised on the banks of the
+Guadalquiver. The trembling hind was an inhabitant of Cordova, and
+revealed to them the state of the place, and the weakness of its garrison.
+
+'And the walls and gates,' said Magued, 'are they strong and well
+guarded?'
+
+'The walls are high, and of wondrous strength,' replied the shepherd; 'and
+soldiers hold watch at the gates by day and night. But there is one place
+where the city may be secretly entered. In a part of the wall, not far
+from the bridge, the battlements are broken, and there is a breach at some
+height from the ground. Hard by stands a fig tree, by the aid of which the
+wall may easily be scaled.'
+
+Having received this information, Magued halted with his army, and sent
+forward several renegado Christians, partizans of Count Julian, who
+entered Cordova as if flying before the enemy. On a dark and tempestuous
+night, the Moslems approached to the end of the bridge which crosses the
+Guadalquiver, and remained in ambush. Magued took a small party of chosen
+men, and, guided by the shepherd, forded the stream, and groped silently
+along the wall to the place where stood the fig tree. The traitors, who
+had fraudulently entered the city, were ready on the wall to render
+assistance. Magued ordered his followers to make use of the long folds of
+their turbans instead of cords, and succeeded without difficulty in
+clambering into the breach.
+
+Drawing their scimitars, they now hastened to the gate which opened toward
+the bridge; the guards, suspecting no assault from within, were taken by
+surprise, and easily overpowered; the gate was thrown open, and the army
+that had remained in ambush rushed over the bridge, and entered without
+opposition.
+
+The alarm had by this time spread throughout the city; but already a
+torrent of armed men was pouring through the streets. Pelistes sallied
+forth with his cavaliers and such of the soldiery as he could collect, and
+endeavored to repel the foe; but every effort was in vain. The Christians
+were slowly driven from street to street, and square to square, disputing
+every inch of ground; until, finding another body of the enemy approaching
+to attack them in the rear, they took refuge in a convent, and succeeded
+in throwing to and barring the ponderous doors. The Moors attempted to
+force the gates, but were assailed with such showers of missiles from the
+windows and battlements that they were obliged to retire. Pelistes
+examined the convent, and found it admirably calculated for defence. It
+was of great extent, with spacious courts and cloisters. The gates were
+massive, and secured with bolts and bars; the walls were of great
+thickness; the windows high and grated; there was a great tank or cistern
+of water, and the friars, who had fled from the city, had left behind a
+good supply of provisions. Here, then, Pelistes proposed to make a stand,
+and to endeavor to hold out until succor should arrive from some other
+city. His proposition was received with shouts by his loyal cavaliers; not
+one of whom but was ready to lay down his life in the service of his
+commander.
+
+For three long and anxious months did the good knight Pelistes and his
+cavaliers defend their sacred asylum against the repeated assaults of the
+infidels. The standard of the true faith was constantly displayed from the
+loftiest tower, and a fire blazed there throughout the night, as signals
+of distress to the surrounding country. The watchman from his turret kept
+a wary look out over the land, hoping in every cloud of dust to descry the
+glittering helms of Christian warriors. The country, however, was forlorn
+and abandoned, or if perchance a human being was perceived, it was some
+Arab horseman, careering the plain of the Guadalquiver as fearlessly as if
+it were his native desert.
+
+By degrees the provisions of the convent were consumed, and the cavaliers
+had to slay their horses, one by one, for food. They suffered the wasting
+miseries of famine without a murmur, and always met their commander with a
+smile. Pelistes, however, read their sufferings in their wan and emaciated
+countenances, and felt more for them than for himself. He was grieved at
+heart that such loyalty and valor should only lead to slavery or death,
+and resolved to make one desperate attempt for their deliverance.
+Assembling them one day in the court of the convent, he disclosed to them
+his purpose.
+
+'Comrades and brothers in arms,' said he, 'it is needless to conceal
+danger from brave men. Our case is desperate: our countrymen either know
+not or heed not our situation, or have not the means to help us. There is
+but one chance of escape; it is full of peril, and, as your leader, I
+claim the right to brave it. To-morrow at break of day I will sally forth
+and make for the city gates at the moment of their being opened; no one
+will suspect a solitary horseman; I shall be taken for one of those
+recreant Christians who have basely mingled with the enemy. If I succeed
+in getting out of the city, I will hasten to Toledo for assistance. In all
+events I shall be back in less than twenty days. Keep a vigilant look out
+toward the nearest mountain. If you behold five lights blazing upon its
+summit, be assured I am at hand with succor, and prepare yourselves to
+sally forth upon the city as I attack the gates. Should I fail in
+obtaining aid, I will return to die with you.'
+
+When he had finished, his warriors would fain have severally undertaken
+the enterprise, and they remonstrated against his exposing himself to such
+peril; but he was not to be shaken from his purpose. On the following
+morning, ere the break of day, his horse was led forth, caparisoned, into
+the court of the convent, and Pelistes appeared in complete armor.
+Assembling his cavaliers in tie chapel, he prayed with them for some time
+before the altar of the holy Virgin. Then rising, and standing in the
+midst of them, 'God knows, my companions,' said he, 'whether we have any
+longer a country; if not, better were we in our graves. Loyal and true
+have ye been to me, and loyal have ye been to my son, even to the hour of
+his death; and grieved am I that I have no other means of proving my love
+for you, than by adventuring my worthless life for your deliverance. All I
+ask of you before I go, is a solemn promise to defend yourselves to the
+last like brave men and Christian cavaliers, and never to renounce your
+faith, or throw yourselves on the mercy of the renegado Magued, or the
+traitor Julian.' They all pledged their words, and took a solemn oath to
+the same effect before the altar.
+
+Pelistes then embraced them one by one, and gave them his benediction, and
+as he did so his heart yearned over them, for he felt towards them, not
+merely as a companion in arms and as a commander, but as a father; and he
+took leave of them as if he had been going to his death. The warriors, on
+their part, crowded round him in silence, kissing his hands and the hem of
+his surcoat, and many of the sternest shed tears.
+
+The gray of the dawning had just streaked the east, when Pelistes took
+lance in hand, hung his shield about his neck, and, mounting his steed,
+issued quietly forth from a postern of the convent. He paced slowly
+through the vacant streets, and the tramp of his steed echoed afar in that
+silent hour; but no one suspected a warrior, moving thus singly and
+tranquilly in an armed city, to be an enemy. He arrived at the gate just
+at the hour of opening; a foraging party was entering with cattle and with
+beasts of burthen, and he passed unheeded through the throng. As soon as
+he was out of sight of the soldiers who guarded the gate, he quickened his
+pace, and at length, galloping at full speed, succeeded in gaining the
+mountains. Here he paused, and alighted at a solitary farm-house to
+breathe his panting steed; but had scarce put foot to ground when he heard
+the distant sound of pursuit, and beheld a horseman spurring up the
+mountain.
+
+Throwing himself again upon his steed, he abandoned the road and galloped
+across the rugged heights. The deep dry channel of a torrent checked his
+career, and his horse, stumbling upon the margin, rolled with his rider to
+the bottom. Pelistes was sorely bruised by the fall, and his whole visage
+was bathed in blood. His horse, too, was maimed and unable to stand, so
+that there was no hope of escape. The enemy drew near, and proved to be no
+other than Magued, the renegado general, who had perceived him as he
+issued forth from the city, and had followed singly in pursuit. 'Well met,
+señor alcayde!' exclaimed he, 'and overtaken in good time. Surrender
+yourself my prisoner.'
+
+Pelistes made no other reply than by drawing his sword, bracing his
+shield, and preparing for defence. Magued, though an apostate, and a
+fierce warrior, possessed some sparks of knightly magnanimity. Seeing his
+adversary dismounted, he disdained to take him at a disadvantage, but
+alighting, tied his horse to a tree.
+
+The conflict that ensued was desperate and doubtful, for seldom had two
+warriors met so well matched or of equal prowess. Their shields were
+hacked to pieces, the ground was strewed with fragments of their armor,
+and stained with their blood. They paused repeatedly to take breath;
+regarding each other with wonder and admiration. Pelistes, however, had
+been previously injured by his fall, and fought to great disadvantage. The
+renegado perceived it, and sought not to slay him, but to take him alive.
+Shifting his ground continually, he wearied his antagonist, who was
+growing weaker and weaker from the loss of blood. At length Pelistes
+seemed to summon up all his remaining strength to make a signal blow; it
+was skilfully parried and he fell prostrate upon the ground. The renegado
+ran up, and, putting his foot upon his sword, and the point of his
+scimitar to his throat, called upon him to ask his life; but Pelistes lay
+without sense, and as one dead. Magued then unlaced the helmet of his
+vanquished enemy and seated himself on a rock beside him, to recover
+breath. In this situation the warriors were found by certain Moorish
+cavaliers, who marvelled much at the traces of that stern and bloody
+combat.
+
+Finding there was yet life in the Christian knight, they laid him upon one
+of their horses, and, aiding Magued to remount his steed, proceeded slowly
+to the city. As the convoy passed by the convent, the cavaliers looked
+forth and beheld their commander borne along bleeding and a captive.
+Furious at the sight, they sallied forth to the rescue, but were repulsed
+by a superior force, and driven back to the great portal of the church.
+The enemy entered pell mell with them, fighting from aisle to aisle, from
+altar to altar, and in the courts and cloisters of the convent. The
+greater part of the cavaliers died bravely, sword in hand; the rest were
+disabled with wounds and made prisoners. The convent, which was lately
+their castle, was now made their prison, and in after-times, in
+commemoration of this event, was consecrated by the name of St. George of
+the Captives.
+
+The loyalty and the prowess of the good knight Pelistes had gained him the
+reverence even of his enemies. He was for a long time disabled by his
+wounds, during which he was kindly treated by the Arab chieftains, who
+strove by every courteous means to cheer his sadness and make him forget
+that he was a captive. When he was recovered from his wounds they gave him
+a magnificent banquet to testify their admiration of his virtues.
+
+Pelistes appeared at the banquet clad in sable armor, and with a
+countenance pale and dejected; for the ills of his country evermore preyed
+upon his heart. Among the assembled guests was Count Julian, who held a
+high command in the Moslem army, and was arrayed in garments of mingled
+Christian and Morisco fashion. Pelistes had been a close and bosom friend
+of Julian in former times, and had served with him in the wars in Africa;
+but when the count advanced to accost him with his wonted amity, he turned
+away in silence, and deigned not to notice him; neither during the whole
+of the repast did he address to him ever a word, but treated him as one
+unknown.
+
+When the banquet was nearly at a close, the discourse turned upon the
+events of the war; and the Moslem chieftains, in great courtesy, dwelt
+upon the merits of many of the Christian cavaliers who had fallen in
+battle, and all extolled the valor of those who had recently perished in
+the defence of the convent. Pelistes remained silent for a time, and
+checked the grief which swelled within his bosom as he thought of his
+devoted cavaliers. At length, lifting up his voice, 'Happy are the dead,'
+said he, 'for they rest in peace, and are gone to receive the reward of
+their piety and valor! I could mourn over the loss of my companions in
+arms, but they have fallen with honor, and are spared the wretchedness I
+feel in witnessing the thraldom of my country. I have seen my only son,
+the pride and hope of my age, cut down at my side; I have beheld kindred
+friends and followers falling one by one around me, and have become so
+seasoned to those losses that I have ceased to weep. Yet there is one man
+over whose loss I will never cease to grieve. He was the loved companion
+of my youth, and the steadfast associate of my graver years. He was one of
+the most loyal of Christian knights. As a friend he was loving and
+sincere; as a warrior his achievements were above all praise. What has
+become of him, alas! I know not. If fallen in battle, and I knew where his
+bones were laid, whether bleaching on the plains of Xeres, or buried in
+the waters of the Gaudalete, I would seek them out and enshrine them as
+the relics of a sainted patriot. Or if, like many of his companions in
+arms, he should be driven to wander in foreign lands, I would join him in
+his hapless exile, and we would mourn together over the desolation of our
+country!'
+
+Even the hearts of the Arab warriors were touched by the lament of the
+good Pelistes, and they said: 'Who was this peerless friend, in whose
+praise thou art so fervent?'
+
+'His name,' replied Pelistes, 'was Count Julian.'
+
+The Moslem warriors stared with surprise. 'Noble cavalier,' exclaimed
+they, 'has grief disordered thy senses? Behold thy friend, living and
+standing before thee, and yet thou dost not know him! This, this is Count
+Julian!'
+
+Upon this, Pelistes turned his eyes upon the count, and regarded him for a
+time, with a lofty and stern demeanor; and the countenance of Julian
+darkened, and was troubled, and his eye sank beneath the regard of that
+loyal and honorable cavalier. And Pelistes said, 'In the name of God, I
+charge thee, man unknown! to answer. Dost thou presume to call thyself
+Count Julian?'
+
+The count reddened with anger at these words. 'Pelistes,' said he, 'what
+means this mockery? Thou knowest me well; thou knowest me for Count
+Julian?'
+
+'I know thee for a base imposter!' cried Pelistes. 'Count Julian was a
+noble Gothic knight; but thou appearest in mongrel Moorish garb. Count
+Julian was a Christian, faithful and devout; but I behold in thee a
+renegado and an infidel. Count Julian was ever loyal to his king, and
+foremost in his country's cause: were he living, he would be the first to
+put shield on neck and lance in rest, to clear the land of her invaders:
+but thou art a hoary traitor! thy hands are stained with the royal blood
+of the Goths, and thou hast betrayed thy country and thy God. Therefore, I
+again repeat, man unknown! if thou sayest thou art Count Julian, thou
+liest! My friend, alas! is dead; and thou art some fiend from hell, which
+has taken possession of his body to dishonor his memory and render him an
+abhorrence among men!' So saying, Pelistes turned his back upon the
+traitor, and went forth from the banquet; leaving Count Julian overwhelmed
+with confusion, and an object of scorn to all the Moslem cavaliers.
+
+
+
+
+ON SEEING A LADY WEEP OVER A NOSEGAY.
+
+
+  Though plucked from off the parent stems,
+    The flow'rs forget to die,
+  When Beauty all their leaves begems
+    With tears from her sweet eye.
+
+  There is a heart which throb'd to-day
+    To see thee weep alone.
+  And longed to wipe those drops away,
+    Or make that grief its own.
+
+                                                  PLUTARCH SHAW: 1844.
+
+
+
+
+LITERARY NOTICES.
+
+
+    LITERARY REMAINS OF THE LATE WILLIS GAYLORD CLARKE. Parts Three and
+    Four. New-York: BURGESS, STRINGER AND COMPANY.
+
+The reception given to our notice of this serial work in our last number,
+has emboldened us to refer to the issues which have since appeared,
+containing a copious variety of matter which will be new to great numbers
+of our readers. One of the best evidences of the _naturalness_ and ease of
+our author's writings, is to be found in the ready appreciation of them by
+all classes of readers. Whether the vein be a serious one, or the theme
+turn upon the humorous or the burlesque, it is not too much, we think, to
+say that the writer takes always with him the heart or the fancy of the
+reader. Without however pausing to characterize productions which bid fair
+to become very widely and favorably known, we shall venture, under favor
+of the reader, to present a few more extracts, 'which it is hoped may
+please.' The following illustration of a night-scene at the Kaatskill
+Mountain-House, on the evening of the Fourth of July, we can aver to be a
+faithful Daguerreotype sketch, for we saw it with the writer:
+
+    'Take my arm, and step forth with me from the piazza of the
+    Mountain-House. It is night. A few stars are peering from a dim
+    azure field of western sky; the high-soaring breeze, the breath of
+    heaven, makes a stilly music in the neighboring pines; the meek
+    crest of Dian rolls along the blue depths of ether, tinting with
+    silver lines the half dun, half fleecy clouds; they who are in the
+    parlors make 'considerable' noise; there is an individual at the
+    end of the portico discussing his quadruple julep, and another
+    devotedly sucking the end of a cane, as if it were full of
+    mother's milk; he hummeth also an air from _Il Pirata_, and
+    wonders, in the simplicity of his heart, 'why the devil that there
+    steam-boat from Albany doesn't begin to show its lights down on
+    the Hudson.' His companion of the glass, however, is intent on the
+    renewal thereof. Calling to him the chief 'help' of the place, he
+    says: 'Is that other antifogmatic ready?'
+
+    'No, Sir.'
+
+    'Well, now, person, what's the reason? What was my last
+    observation? Says I to you, says I, 'Make me a fourth of them
+    beverages;' and moreover, I added, 'Just you keep doing so; be
+    _constantly_ making them, till the order is countermanded.' Give
+    us another; go! vanish!--'disappear and appear!''
+
+    'The obsequious servant went; and returning with the desired
+    draught, observed, probably for the thousandth time: 'There!
+    that's what I call the true currency; them's the _ginooyne_
+    mint-drops; HA--_ha_--ha!'--these separate divisions of his
+    laughter coming out of his mouth at intervals of about half a
+    minute each.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    'There is a bench near the verge of the Platform, where, when you
+    sit at evening, the hollow-sounding air comes up from the vast
+    vale below, like the restless murmurs of the ocean. Anchor
+    yourself here for a while, reader, with me. It being the evening
+    of the national anniversary, a few patriotic individuals are
+    extremely busy in piling up a huge pyramid of dried pine branches,
+    barrels covered with tar, and kegs of spirits, to a height of some
+    fifteen or twenty feet--perhaps higher. A bonfire is premeditated.
+    You shall see anon, how the flames will rise. The preparations are
+    completed; the fire is applied. Hear how it crackles and hisses!
+    Slowly but spitefully it mounts from limb to limb, and from one
+    combustible to another, until the whole welkin is a-blaze, and
+    shaking as with thunder! It is a beautiful sight. The gush of
+    unwonted radiance rolls in effulgent surges adown the vale. How
+    the owl hoots with surprise at the interrupting light! Bird of
+    wisdom, it is the Fourth! and you may well add your voice to swell
+    the choral honors of the time. How the tall old pines, withered by
+    the biting scathe of Eld, rise to the view, afar and near; white
+    shafts, bottomed in darkness, and standing like the serried spears
+    of an innumerable army! The groups around the beacon are gathered
+    together, but are forced to enlarge the circle of their
+    acquaintance, by the growing intensity of the increasing blaze.
+    Some of them, being ladies, their white robes waving in the
+    mountain breeze, and the light shining full upon them, present,
+    you observe, a beautiful appearance. The pale pillars of the
+    portico flash fitfully into view, now seen and gone, like columns
+    of mist. The swarthy African who kindled the fire regards it with
+    perspiring face and grinning ivories; and lo! the man who hath
+    mastered the quintupled glass of metamorphosed _eau-de-vie_,
+    standing by the towering pile of flame, and, reaching his hand on
+    high, he smiteth therewith his sinister pap, with a most hollow
+    sound; the knell, as it were of his departing reason. In short, he
+    is making an oration!
+
+    'Listen to those voiceful currents of air, traversing the vast
+    profound below the Platform! What a mighty circumference do they
+    sweep! Over how many towns, and dwellings, and streams, and
+    incommunicable woods! Murmurs of the dark, sources and awakeners
+    of sublime imagination, swell from afar. You have thoughts of
+    eternity and power here, which shall haunt you evermore. But we
+    must be early stirrers in the morning. Let us to bed.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    'You can lie on your pillow at the Kaatskill House, and see the
+    god of day look upon you from behind the pinnacles of the White
+    Mountains in New Hampshire, hundreds of miles away. Noble
+    prospect! As the great orb heaves up in ineffable grandeur, he
+    seems rising from beneath you, and you fancy that you have
+    attained an elevation where may be seen _the motion of the world_.
+    No intervening land to limit the view, you seem suspended in
+    mid-air, without one obstacle to check the eye. The scene is
+    indescribable. The chequered and interminable vale, sprinkled with
+    groves, and lakes, and towns, and streams; the mountains afar off,
+    swelling tumultuously heavenward, like waves of the ocean, some
+    incarnadined with radiance, others purpled in shade; all these, to
+    use the language of an auctioneer's advertisement, 'are too
+    tedious to mention, but may be seen on the premises.' I know of
+    but one picture which will give the reader an idea of this
+    etherial spot. It was the view which the angel Michael was polite
+    enough, one summer morning, to point out to Adam, from the highest
+    hill of Paradise.'
+
+Many and many a young father will recognize, in the following, his own
+emotions, as he looks in moments of thoughtfulness upon the little
+'olive-branches' around him, in whom he lives over again his own earliest
+years:
+
+    'To those who are disposed to glean philosophy from the mayhap
+    less noticeable objects of this busy world, there are few sights
+    more lovely than childhood. The little cherub who now sits at my
+    knee, and tries, with tiny effort, to clutch the quill with which
+    I am playing for you, good reader; whose capricious taste, varying
+    from ink-stand to paper, and from that to books, and every other
+    portable thing--all 'moveables that I could tell you of'--he has
+    in his little person those elements which constitute both the
+    freshness of our sublunary mortality, and that glorious
+    immortality which the mortal shall yet put on. Gazing upon his
+    fair young brow, his peach-like cheek, and the depths of those
+    violet eyes, I feel myself rejuvenated. That which bothered
+    Nicodemus, is no marvel to me. I feel that I have a new existence;
+    nor can I dispel the illusion. It is harder, indeed, to believe
+    that he will ever be what I am, than that I am otherwise than he
+    is now. I can not imagine that he will ever become a pilous adult,
+    with harvests for the razor on that downy chin. Will those golden
+    locks become the brown auburn? Will that forehead rise as a varied
+    and shade-changing record of pleasure or care? Will the classic
+    little lips, now colored as by the radiance of a ruby, ever be
+    fitfully bitten in the glow of literary composition!--and will
+    those sun-bright locks, which hang about his temples like the soft
+    lining of a summer cloud, become meshes where hurried fingers
+    shall thread themselves in play? By the mass, I can not tell. But
+    this I know. That which hath been, shall be: the lot of manhood,
+    if he live, will be upon him; the charm, the obstacle, the
+    triumphant fever; the glory, the success, the far-reaching
+    thoughts,
+
+      'That make them eagle wings
+      To pierce the unborn years.'
+
+The 'Ollapodiana' papers are concluded in the third number, and a portion
+of the issue is devoted to the commencement of the 'Miscellaneous Prose
+Papers' of the writer, which are both numerous and various, 'A Chapter on
+Cats' records an amusing story, replete with incident, which turns upon
+the deplorable consequences, in one sad instance at least, of cat-killing.
+An illustrative although not satisfactory passage is subjoined:
+
+    'I am subject, in summer, to restlessness. Thick-coming fancies
+    mar my rest, and my ear is peculiarly sensitive to the least
+    inappropriate sound. One sultry evening in July, I returned home
+    later than usual, from an arbitration, wherein I lost a cause on
+    which I had counted certainly to win. I suspect I bored the
+    arbitrators with too long a plea, and too voluminous quotations of
+    precedents; for when I finished, two were asleep, and most of the
+    others yawning. They decided against my client, and I came home
+    mad with chagrin, and crept into bed, longing for speedy oblivion
+    in the arms of Sleep.
+
+    'But that calm sister of Death would not be won to my embrace. I
+    lay tossing for a long time in 'restless ecstacy,' until vexed and
+    overwearied nature at last sunk to repose. I could not have
+    slumbered over ten minutes, before I was awakened by the most
+    outrageous caterwauling that ever stung the human ear. I arose in
+    a fury, and looked out of the window. All was still. The cause for
+    outcry appeared to have ceased. Now and then there was a low
+    gutteral wail, between a suppressed grunt and a squeal; but it was
+    so faint that nothing could have lived 'twixt that and silence.
+    After a listening probation of a few minutes, I slunk back into my
+    sheets.
+
+    'I had scarcely dozed a quarter of an hour, when the obnoxious
+    vociferations arose again. They were fierce, ill-natured, and
+    shrill. I arose again, vexed beyond endurance. All was quiet in a
+    moment. I am not given to profanity; I deem it foolish and wicked;
+    but on this occasion, after stretching my body like a sheeted
+    ghost, half out of the window, and gazing into the shadows of the
+    garden to discover the object of my annoyance, I exclaimed in a
+    loud and spiteful voice, which expressed my concentrated hate:
+
+    ----'_D--n that cat!_'
+
+    ''Young gentleman,' said a passing guardian of the night, from the
+    street, 'you had better pop your head in and stop your noise. If
+    you don't, you will rue it; now mind-I-tell-ye.'
+
+    ''Look here, old Charley,' said I, in return, 'don't be
+    impertinent. It is your business to preserve the peace, and to
+    obviate every evil that looks disgracious in the city's eye. You
+    guard the slumbers of her citizens; and if you expect a dollar
+    from me at Christmas, for the poetry in your next annual address,
+    you will perform what I now request, and what it is your solemn
+    and bounded duty to do. Spring your rattle; comprehend that vagrom
+    cat, and take her to the watch-house, I will appear as plaintiff
+    against the quadruped, before the mayor, in the morning. Her
+    character is bad--her habits are scandalous.'
+
+    ''Oh, pshaw!' said the watchman, and went clattering up the
+    street, singing 'N'hav p-a-st dwelve o'glock, and a glowdee morn.'
+
+    'I reverted to my pillow, and fell into a train of conjectures
+    touching the grimalkin. Possibly it might be the darling old
+    friend of Miss Dillon. Then I thought of others--then I slept.
+
+    'I cannot declare to a second how long my fitful slumber lasted,
+    before I was startled from my bed by a yell, which proceeded
+    apparently from a cat in my room. I had just been dreaming of a
+    great mouser, with ears like a jackass, and claws, armed with long
+    'pickers and stingers,' sitting on my bosom, and sucking away my
+    breath. I sprang at once into the middle of the room. I searched
+    every where--nothing was in the apartment. Then there rushed
+    toward the zenith one universal cat-shriek, which went echoing off
+    on the night-wind like the reverberation of a sharp thunder-peal.
+
+    'My blood was now _up_ for vengeance. One hungry and fiery wish to
+    destroy that diabolical caterwauler, took possession of my soul.
+    At that instant the clock struck one. It was the death knell of
+    the feline vocalist. I looked out of the window, and in the light
+    of a stray lot of moonshine, streaming through the tall chimneys
+    to the south-east, I saw Miss Dillon's romantic favorite,
+    alternately cooing and fighting with a large mouser of the
+    neighborhood, that I had seen for several afternoons previous,
+    walking leisurely along the garden wall, as if absorbed in deep
+    meditation, and forming some libertine resolve. In fine, they each
+    seemed saturate with the spirit of the Gnome king, Umbriel, in the
+    drama, when he
+
+                      ----'stalked abroad
+      Urging the wolf to tear the buffalo.'
+
+    'The death of one of these noisy belligerents being determined on,
+    I looked round my room for the tools of retribution. Not a
+    moveable thing, however, could I discover, save a new pitcher,
+    which had been sent home that very day, and to which my name and
+    address were appended on a bit of card. I clutched it with
+    desperate fury, and pouring into my bowl the water contained in
+    it, I poised it in my hand for the deadly heave. I had been a
+    member of a quoit club in the country, and the principles of a
+    clever throw were familiar to me. I resolved to make the vessel
+    describe what is called in philosophy a _parabolic curve_, so that
+    while it knocked out the brains of one combatant, it should
+    effectually admonish the survivor of the iniquity of his doings. I
+    approached the window--balanced the pitcher--and then drave it
+    home. Its reception was acknowledged by a loud, choking squall--a
+    faint yell of agony, and then a respectful silence. Satisfied that
+    my pitcher had been broken at the fountain of life, and that the
+    silent tabby would not soon tune her pipes again, I retired to
+    bed, and slept with the serenity and comfort of one who is
+    conscious of having performed a virtuous action.
+
+    'In the morning, the cat was found 'keeled up' on a bed of pinks,
+    with her head broken in, and her ancient and venerable whiskers
+    dabbled in blood. The shattered pitcher lay by her side. The
+    vessel had done its worst--so had my victim.'
+
+The story proper, upon the consecutive incidents of which we shall not
+touch, closes with the annexed whimsical anecdote:
+
+    'An anonymous wag not long ago, placed an advertisement in each of
+    our city journals, signed by an eminent house on the Delaware
+    wharf, and stating that FIVE HUNDRED CATS were wanted immediately
+    by the firm. The said firm in the meantime knew nothing of the
+    matter.
+
+    'On visiting their counting-house the next morning, the partners
+    found the streets literally blocked up with enterprising
+    cat-sellers. Huge negroes were there, each with ten or fifteen
+    sage, grave tabbies tied together with a string. Old market-women
+    had brought thither whole families of the feline genus, from the
+    superannuated _Tom_, to the blind kitten. The air resounded with
+    the squallings of the quadrupedal multitude. New venders, with
+    their noisy property, were seen thronging to the place from every
+    avenue.
+
+    ''What'll you _guv_ me for this 'ere lot?' said a tall shad-woman,
+    pressing up toward the counting-room. 'The newspapers says you
+    allows liberal prices. I axes a dollar a piece for the old 'uns,
+    and five levys for the kittens.'
+
+    ''You have been fooled,' said the chief partner, who appeared with
+    a look of dismay at the door, and was obliged to speak as loud
+    amid the din as a sea-captain in a storm. 'I want no cats. I have
+    no use for them. I could not eat them. I couldn't sell them. I
+    never advertised for them.'
+
+    'A decided mendicant, a member of the great family of loafers,
+    with a red, _bulgy_ nose, and bloated cheeks, who had three cats
+    tied to a string in his hand, now mounted a cotton bale, and
+    producing a newspaper, spelt the advertisement through as audibly
+    as he could under the circumstances, demanding of the assembly as
+    he closed, 'if that there advertysement wasn't a true bill?' An
+    unanimous 'Sarting!' echoed through the crowd. Encouraged by the
+    electric response, the loafer proceeded to make a short speech. He
+    touched upon the rights of trade, the liberty of the press, the
+    importance of fair dealing, and the benefits of printing; and
+    concluded by advising his hearers to go the death for their
+    rights, and 'not to stand no humbug.' Such was the effect of his
+    eloquence, that the firm against which he wielded his oratorical
+    thunder found it necessary to compromise matters by treating the
+    entire concourse to a hogshead of wine. 'The company separated at
+    an early hour,' consoled for the loss of their bargains and the
+    emptiness of their pockets by the lightsomeness of their heads and
+    hearts.'
+
+Let us hope that our readers will find, in the entire work from which we
+quote, ample reasons for the favor which it is receiving at the hands of
+the public.
+
+
+    MENTAL HYGIENE: OR AN EXAMINATION OF THE INTELLECT AND PASSIONS.
+    Designed to illustrate their Influence on Health and the Duration of
+    Life. By WILLIAM SWEETSER, M. D. In one volume. pp. 270. New-York: J.
+    AND H. G. LANGLEY.
+
+This is a work destined, as we can easily foresee, to produce great good.
+Its leading design, as its title implies, and as is stated indeed by the
+author in his preface, is to elucidate the influence of intellect and
+passion upon the health and endurance of the human organization; an
+influence which has been but imperfectly understood and appreciated in its
+character and importance, by mankind at large. The volume under notice is
+divided into two parts. Under the first are considered the intellectual
+operations in respect to their influence on the general functions of the
+body; under the second is embraced a view of the moral feelings or
+passions, in the relation which they also sustain to our physical nature.
+Of these a concise definition is offered, with such classification as is
+necessary to the leading design of the work. Their effects upon the
+different functions of the animal economy are next noticed; and a
+description is given of a few of the most important passions belonging to
+each of the three great classes; namely, pleasurable, painful and mixed,
+into which they are separated; their physical phenomena and individual
+influence on the well-being of the human mechanism being closely examined.
+A forcible exposition is also given of the evil consequences resulting
+from an ill-regulated imagination (acting through the instrumentality of
+the passions, morbidly excited by its licentious operation,) to the
+firmness of the nervous system, and the integrity of the general health.
+The volume is not addressed to any particular class of readers, and being
+free from technical expressions, is rendered plain and comprehensive to
+all. We commend this volume of Mr. SWEETSER cordially to our readers,
+firmly impressed with the belief that the principles which it advances may
+be rendered subservient both to the physical and moral welfare of our
+countrymen.
+
+
+    LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD, BY SEATSFIELD: translated from the German by
+    GUSTAVUS C. HEBBE, LL. D., and JAMES MACKAY, M.A. New-York: J.
+    WINCHESTER, 'New World' Press.
+
+The fourth number of this very remarkable work has been published; and we
+have had a fair opportunity of testing the merits of the mysterious
+author. The circumstances must now be generally known, under which these
+works appear before the public. It appears that MUNDT, a German scholar,
+who is publishing a continuation of SCHLEGEL'S History of Literature, has
+in his delineations of character given almost unbounded praise to an
+American named SEATSFIELD. Among the various works attributed to him are
+'Life in the New World,' 'Sea, Sketches,' 'South and North,' 'Virey,' the
+'Legitimate,' and others, which are to be issued in rapid succession from
+the press of WINCHESTER, 'the indefatigable,' as he may well be called;
+for the rapidity with which he sends out to the world the literary
+novelties of the day is a theme of public marvel. The German, in which
+these volumes are written, is said by competent judges, to be very pure
+and powerful: and indeed we may rest assured that if the case were
+otherwise, a critic of such high reputation as MUNDT would never have
+spoken of SEATSFIELD in such enthusiastic terms. The publisher, we
+understand, obtained several of the works from the library of Columbia
+College, through the politeness of Professor TELLKAMPT.
+
+The opinion, which some have expressed, that SEATSFIELD'S books are made
+up of stolen selections from different American writers, is unfounded. We
+cannot recognize in his style or thought familiar passages; and beside,
+there does not appear to be any rational inducement for this species of
+plagiarism. It is evident that the writings are indeed what they appear to
+be, the genuine productions of an able man. The descriptions of natural
+scenery are very graphic. 'The first trip on the Red River,' and the
+description of the trappers, is one of the most animated sketches we have
+ever read. Our mountains, rivers, cataracts, ocean-lakes, and forests, are
+described with the most remarkable spirit and truth.' The translation, we
+are informed by the best judges, is extremely faithful.
+
+
+    POETRY AND HISTORY OF WYOMING. By WILLIAM L. STONE, Esq. Second
+    edition, enlarged. New-York: MARK H. NEWMAN.
+
+This indefatigable laborer in the mine of Indian history continues to
+throw off from time to time works upon that subject, which bear the marks
+of great industry, patient research, and extensive information, and which
+have deservedly given him a high literary reputation as an historical
+writer. What has yet appeared we believe is only the beginning of a series
+of works relating to Indian annals, which are to be completed as soon as
+the author's health, and the duties of an arduous profession, will allow.
+From a late honor conferred upon him by one of the remnants of the Six
+Nations, in electing him one of their chiefs, by the name of
+SA-GO-SEN-O-TA, it seems plain that they highly approve of his efforts to
+preserve their history; and it may be considered as endorsing the accuracy
+of his investigations. In this light, the honor conferred, though coming
+from those whom civilization is crushing beneath its superior intelligence
+and power, is valuable and important. The present book takes the poetical
+share of its title from the fact that the author has prefixed CAMPBELL'S
+celebrated poem, preceded by a sketch of his life, furnished by WASHINGTON
+IRVING. 'Gertrude of Wyoming,' though beautiful, and seeming to be a
+narrative of real incidents in a poetical dress, is nevertheless a
+fiction, albeit founded upon an actual tragedy, whose horrors can hardly
+be exaggerated by any pen. It has been the design of our author to record
+the real history of the section of country which was stained by this
+tragedy, and which for this reason, has a melancholy interest thrown over
+its natural charms.
+
+The history of Wyoming does not commence, as many suppose, with the war of
+the American revolution. Long before, the conflict of human passions in
+the breast of savage and civilized man had discolored its soil with blood.
+During this antecedent period, its aboriginal annals are replete with
+incidents, which were greatly multiplied after the civil wars which
+disturbed the repose of that secluded valley had begun to be waged between
+the rival claimants to the territory from Connecticut and Pennsylvania,
+and which for twelve or thirteen years prior to the revolutionary war
+present a series of the most stirring events. The author, therefore, in
+order to render the history complete, has taken it up before the first
+known visit of the white men; of whom, among the earliest, were the
+Moravian missionaries. To the honor of these men, be it recorded, that in
+this instance, as in others, they plunged into the depths of the forest,
+and labored among the savages with a christian zeal and enterprize which
+have never been surpassed. The scenes of the revolution, embracing not
+only the great massacre in July, 1778, with its frightful horrors, but
+also a number of other bloody forays of the Indians upon the white men,
+are moreover faithfully described. But after all, perhaps the most
+interesting portion of the volume is formed of the narrative of the
+services and sufferings of individuals and families. These latter records
+are full of those wild and romantic incidents which are peculiar to border
+warfare; where the steady courage and determined bravery of the European
+appears in deadly conflict with the wiliness, cunning, and sleepless
+vengeance of the savage. To say that all this is narrated by the author in
+the spirit of accurate history, would be far below the meed of praise that
+is due. He has executed this part of the book in a style of animated and
+lively description, and with that flowing and finished diction, which can
+only be attained when the mind of a writer is perfectly familiar with the
+events, and when, by the force of imagination, he becomes himself as it
+were an actor instead of a spectator of the scenes which he narrates.
+
+Additional interest is given to this spot, from the fact, which probably
+is not generally known, except to the professed historian, that the
+distinguished patriot TIMOTHY PICKERING took up his abode in the valley of
+Wyoming, attracted no doubt by its unrivalled beauties, to which he was
+first introduced during a military campaign, but which he afterward
+contemplated, on the return of peace, with an eye capable of being charmed
+by the picturesque in nature. The concluding chapter of the book is
+devoted mainly to a spirited account of the abduction of that gentleman,
+and his confinement in the wilderness by a gang of ruffians, who, after
+trying in vain to bend his soldier-like mind to a compliance with their
+violent designs, gave him an ungracious release, and allowed him to return
+to his family. Among the papers in the appendix, now first introduced to
+the public, will be found a deed of purchase, made from the Indians ninety
+years ago, by the Connecticut Land Company, containing the names of some
+six hundred of the most wealthy and distinguished people of that State. It
+is important as a means of showing the valuation of land at that period,
+and a proof that it was acquired by honest purchase. This edition has been
+enlarged to the amount of more than one hundred pages of letter-press; an
+addition found necessary by the discovery of increased materials by the
+author since the publication of the first edition.
+
+In concluding this brief notice of a work written with decided talent, and
+designed to fill an important niche in the early history of this country,
+we are bound to thank the author, and to express the hope that he will be
+able to finish the historical design which he has sketched, pertaining to
+that interesting race, of whom it may be truly said, that 'the hour of
+their destiny has already struck.' This volume shows us, that in our own
+country may be found topics for literary effort, worthy of employing the
+gifted pens of America, without going abroad in quest of subjects, in the
+discussion of which we shall long be surpassed by foreigners, on account
+of their superior facilities and larger sources of information. As a book
+entirely American, we commend it to the reading public, confident that it
+will be received with favor wherever it is read, and be considered a
+valuable addition to the historical department of every gentleman's
+library.
+
+
+    A NEW SPIRIT OF THE AGE. By R. H. HORNE. In one volume. New-York:
+    HARPER AND BROTHERS.
+
+The Mr. HORNE who stands sponsor for this 'child of many fathers' must not
+be confounded with Mr. HARTWELL HORNE, who in a literary point of view is
+quite another person. The author of the volume before us, however, with
+the aid of sundry fellow _littérateurs_ 'of the secondary formation,' as
+CARLYLE phrases it, has collected together quite a variety of materials,
+the whole being intended to form a sort of sequel to HAZLITT'S 'Spirit of
+the Age,' a brilliant work, to which the present bears slight resemblance.
+We quite agree with a contemporary, that it manifests little or no
+independence of judgment or originality of thought. 'It is the result of
+the labor of many hands, and those not the most skilful or experienced. It
+consequently wants that homogenousness of style which one would expect in
+a professed imitation of so excellent a model. The highest degree of merit
+that can be accorded to it is that of a collection of magazine articles of
+second rate merit. It is likely to prove popular with the generality of
+readers who do not trouble themselves to dip beneath the surface of
+things; but we must caution those who would form a just estimate of the
+characters and merits of the distinguished writers whose works are
+analyzed in it, that its premises are not always correct nor its
+deductions sound.'
+
+
+
+
+EDITOR'S TABLE.
+
+
+A DAY WITH THE GREAT SEATSFIELD.--The Boston Daily Advertiser recently
+divulged, with a most curious air of bewilderment, the name of a new, and
+as it seems hitherto unheard-of, ornament to American literature--the
+illustrious SEATSFIELD. Illustrious, however, only upon the other side of
+the water; for it appears that we Yankee cotton-raisers have somewhat else
+to do than to busy our brains about any letters except letters of credit,
+or any fame that is not reverberated from abroad. No one, of course, at
+all conversant with modern German literature, not even the slightest
+skimmer of their late periodical publications, or the most occasional
+peruser of the _Allgemeine Zeitung_ or _Dresden Bluthundstaglich_, can
+have failed to notice with patriotic pride the gradual but gigantic
+progress of this new VOLTAIRE to the highest pinnacle of popular renown.
+But, sooth to say, our western world is so overrun with pretenders; there
+are so many young gentlemen annually spawned by Yale and Cambridge, who
+affect to read German without being able to construe the advertisement of
+a Leipsic bookseller; so numerous are the blue-spectacled nymphs who quote
+JEAN PAUL betwixt their blanc-mange and oysters, without comprehending
+even the outermost rind of its in-meaning; so utterly ignorant are our
+so-called literati of any subject beyond the scope of a newspaper, that
+the name of SEATSFIELD sounded as strangely in American ears as if he had
+lately arrived from Herschel or Georgium Sidus in a balloon. It is true
+that some two or three of our eminent scholars, a few travellers, men of
+taste, who had wandered by the Rhine, were acquainted with his reputation,
+and in some degree with his productions. EMERSON doubtless must have been
+aware of his renown; Professor FELTON of course had read him as often as
+he has HOMER; JONES, WILKINS, and F. SMITH had studied him with delight.
+The 'Dial,' a journal of much repute, had even spoken openly, we are told,
+of his success in Europe. Mr. W. E. CHANNING, the poet, had evidently but
+perhaps unconsciously imitated his peculiar viscidity of style, and (if we
+may use such an expression.) extreme flakiness of thought. But in spite of
+these few exceptions to the general indifference, let it stand recorded,
+that when the name of SEATSFIELD returned to his own shore, it was an
+alien and unmeaning word. His own country, so deeply indebted to his
+powerful pen, absolutely knew him not. The literati stared, and the Boston
+Advertiser was struck aghast with wonder. What a comment upon the state of
+letters in America! 'Literary Emporium,' forsooth! 'Western Athens!'
+Medici of Manhattan! how grossly we Yankees do misapply titles! It was the
+very 'Literary Emporium' itself that was most astounded at the
+newly-discovered mine. SEATSFIELD'S name had overspread civilized Europe;
+his productions had been dramatized at Munich and Bucharest; they had been
+translated into Russian and Turkish; the Maltese mariner had learned to
+solace himself with his 'Twilight Helmsman's Hymn,' and the merchants of
+Syra and Beyrout adorned their mansions with his bust; yet Boston,
+New-York, and Philadelphia had never heard his name! In the lack of more
+minute information with regard to this remarkable man, perhaps the
+following page or two from a traveller's journal may prove acceptable to
+the public. The absolutely total obscurity of the subject in America, may
+also, it is hoped, serve as an apology for the openness of detail and
+apparent breach of etiquette in regard to private intercourse.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'It has been my fortune to spend a day in company with the man who of all
+men has done the most to illustrate our manners and character; yet who,
+strange to say, is less known than 'Professor' INGRAHAM. As it was then my
+fortune to speak _with_ him; I now consider it my duty to speak _of_ him,
+and to do what little I am able, to extend his name among his compatriots.
+
+'In the spring of the year previous to this, or to be exact, in April,
+1843, I found myself at Berlin. My friend, Mr. CARLYLE, of London, had
+given me a letter to THEODORE MUNDT, and I had learned soon after my
+arrival that this distinguished man was in town. I had consequently looked
+over my letters, after dinner, and had selected the one addressed to
+MUNDT, and laid it under a little plaster bust of SCHILLER that stood just
+over the stove, in the room where I dined. In the evening I walked into
+the _Ermschlagg Buchzimmer_.[2] Several students were making annotations
+from huge volumes, and many grave, pale gentlemen were turning over the
+reviews and periodicals of the day. Among these I recognized an Englishman
+whom I had fallen in with at Cologne but parted with at Heidelberg. He had
+been in Berlin three days before me, and I was truly glad to meet with an
+acquaintance even of so recent a date, to whom I could apply for
+information or advice as to the best way of seeing the lions. While I was
+whispering to him, a grim-visaged old Teuton looked up at us with a stern
+frown, and my friend observed, 'We must retire into the _Sprechensaale_,
+or conversation-room.' As soon as we had entered this adjoining apartment,
+to the evident satisfaction of the aforesaid grim Teuton, I observed a
+tall, thin man, of angular and wiry aspect, see-sawing his body in front
+of the stove, toward which he had turned his back, as he stood in
+apparently deep cogitation. 'You don't know who that is,' quoth my friend;
+'there is _one_ of the lions, to begin with. I found out his name this
+morning: that is THEODORE MUNDT.' Struck as I was with the stranger's
+aspect, which appeared to me altogether American, I stared at him till he
+suddenly raised his dark eyes, and fixed them on mine. To disembarrass
+myself from my seeming rudeness as politely as possible, I bowed to his
+gaze, and said inquiringly: 'I have the honor to address Mr. MUNDT?'
+
+    [2] A new public library and reading-room in Berlin.
+
+''You have the _luck_,' he said, 'but the honor is _his_.'
+
+''Honors are even, then,' said I, as brusquely as I dared; and of all
+animals a traveller is the most impudent. 'I have in my pocket,' I
+continued, 'a letter for you from my friend CARLYLE.' At the name of
+CARLYLE he raised his hands in surprise, then rubbed them with delight,
+and began to eulogise his friend.
+
+'All this while I was fumbling in my pocket for my letter, when suddenly
+it flashed over me that I had put it under the bust in the tavern. I grew
+confused for a moment, and then as Mynheer MUNDT held out his hand for the
+letter, I burst into a laugh, and confessed that I had left my letter at
+home. MUNDT looked very serious, and quoted from Othello, 'That is a
+fault;' and then from Macbeth, 'To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow.'
+I thought there was a little affectation in this; perhaps it was merely
+complimentary; but the immediate result of our imperfect acquaintance was,
+that I made bold to introduce my friend to MUNDT, who invited us both to
+his rooms to supper. On our way thither, as we passed the _Brunswik
+Gasthaus_, where I lodged, I stepped in to procure my letter, and MUNDT
+appeared rejoiced to hear directly from his 'very _fine_ friend' CARLYLE,
+as he queerly styled him.
+
+'I should feel that I was venturing on forbidden ground were I to reveal
+more of what passed between us that evening. There was some drawing of
+corks and some puffing of Hamburg-made Cheroots, which MUNDT declared to
+be genuine Oriental; there was a ham of Westphalia, and a bit of La
+Gruyere. But with all this we have nothing to do. I fear that I have
+already made my preface too long. Enough be it then to say, that MUNDT
+first revealed to me on this occasion (I am ashamed to own it) the name
+and talents of our countryman SEATSFIELD. How enthusiastic he was I will
+not describe; but his enthusiasm could only be equalled by his surprise
+that I was not familiar with his writings.
+
+'On the next day MUNDT gave me a letter to SEATSFIELD, directed to him at
+Bâsle, in Switzerland, near which he owns a beautiful villa. I did not
+find him at Bâsle, however, and I proceeded to Milan without delivering my
+letter. On my return from Italy, I happened to learn that SEATSFIELD was
+at Graffenburg in Silesia; and although it was forty leagues from my
+purposed route I encountered the delay, out of mere curiosity of seeing so
+distinguished a man. This time I was not disappointed. One day only I
+spent at Graffenburg, but that day was sufficient to fill me with a truly
+German (I wish I could say American) admiration of my countryman.
+Graffenburg, it should be remarked, is the famous scene of Doctor
+PRIESSNITZ'S wonderful hydropathic cures. Being there only for a single
+day, I did not think it best to submit in all points to the cold water
+treatment; neither did SEATSFIELD, for I noticed that he mixed two
+table-spoonfuls of gin with every gill of cold water. SEATSFIELD is a man
+of about middle-age, with a penetrating eye, and rather a good form,
+though not unusually muscular. His face bears a remarkable resemblance to
+the pictures of NUMA POMPILIUS; the benign smile of each is the same. His
+chin is round and full, although partially concealed by a slight beard;
+his nose, which is of a truly German outline, is marked by the 'dilated
+nostril of genius;' and his whole aspect is that of a thorough man of the
+world. I will continue my reminiscence by extracting verbatim a page or so
+from my imperfect, though as far as it goes, authentic diary. I am
+convinced however that his remarks will lose much from the want of his
+pointed manner of enunciation. His English was faultless, and he spoke as
+well as if he had never been out of America. Very few Americans indeed,
+and no British-Islanders, talk so correct and chaste a dialect.
+
+
+EXTRACT FROM MY JOURNAL.
+
+                                          _Graffenburg, July 4_, 1844.
+
+'I was very fortunate, they tell me, to find SEATSFIELD in so
+companionable a mood. He appeared in high spirits, and was exceedingly
+conversible. The glorious return of our national anniversary had a visible
+effect upon him. I presented my letter to him last evening, but he was
+weary, and retired early. When I first met him in the Upper Bath-room
+Walk, this morning, he congratulated me upon the brightness and brilliancy
+of the day. 'You have much to be thankful for, Sir,' he observed; 'the day
+is perfectly American. Just such a sun as this is now dawning upon
+Broadway and the Battery. The sound of India-crackers and the pleasant
+smell of lobsters is already perceptible to the senses of the awakening
+Manhattanese.'
+
+'Boston, too, my native city,' I observed, 'is also alive to the holiday
+influences. Boston Common I dare say is already white with tents, and the
+fragrant commerce of the booths is just commencing on the Mall.'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'Yes, Sir; but Boston and Philadelphia both fail in developing
+the true character-stamp-work (_character-stampfen-werk_) of the day. To
+see the Fourth of July in its glory, one should visit New-York. To my
+senses, which are uncommonly acute, there is a peculiar smell about the
+Fourth of July in New-York, which differs in toto from that of any other
+holiday.'
+
+'In Boston we also have the perfume of lobsters and egg-pop blended with
+that of orange-peel and pine-apple----'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'That, Sir, is but a feeble rationale of the New-York savor. I
+have often, in a jocose mood, amused myself with analyzing this odor. I
+have resolved it into the following elements: lobsters, gunpowder,
+trampled-grass, wheel-grease, and cigars. It is mainly to these
+ingredients, grafted upon the other ordinary city smells, that I attribute
+the Fourth of July smell.'
+
+'There is one that you have failed to detect; namely, a faint whiff of
+barn-yards, owing I presume to the strong prevalence of farmers and other
+rustics from the surrounding country.' SEATSFIELD smiled at this, and
+acknowledged, in a laughing way, an occasional intimation of manure.
+'Graffenburg,' I observed, 'is remarkably free from all strong odors; it
+is a very clean village.'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'That, Sir, is owing to the water: depend upon it, wherever
+water prevails neatness will ensue. Temperance and cleanliness go hand in
+hand. The ancients were a filthy race, and they were great wine-bibbers.
+What a condition of personal and mental nastiness is divulged by HORACE in
+his 'Iter ad Brundusium;' yet HORACE was a choice specimen of a Roman
+gentleman.'
+
+'Have you had any poets among you here? or is the hydropathic system too
+repugnant to their art?'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'Our countryman, LONGFELLOW, was here not long since. I sat at
+table with him frequently; but never introduced myself to him.'
+
+'Do you think highly of his powers?'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'As a prolific generator of novel life-images, no; but as a
+vivid delineator of the inner-thought principle, as an artistical
+displayer of the higher subjective mood, he is of the very first class. I
+honor LONGFELLOW.'
+
+'He is perhaps our smoothest versifier, next to HALLECK.'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'Nay, he is the only one among us who can combine extreme
+polish and the utmost facility of flow with deep-seated reflection.'
+SEATSFIELD then quoted, with a sublime energy, from the celebrated 'Psalm
+of Life:'
+
+  ''Not enjoyment and not sorrow
+    Is our destined end or way,
+  But to act, that each to-morrow
+    Find us farther than to-day.
+
+ 'In the world's broad field of battle,
+    In the bivouac of life,
+  Be not like dumb driven cattle,
+    Be a hero in the strife.
+
+ 'Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant,
+    Let the dead Past, bury its dead;
+  Act, act in the glorious Present,
+    Heart within and GOD o'er head.''
+
+'You give the poet a great advantage,' I said, 'in quoting his very finest
+production, and picking out the choicest stanzas. Beside, his theme here
+is one of so general a nature, and so familiar to philosophy, that it
+would be hard for any one to moralize upon it in verse without
+accidentally hitting upon some sublimity. The commonest intellect has
+lofty and awful thoughts whenever it gives way to serious meditation upon
+our mortality.'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'That is partly true; but LONGFELLOW is not only great upon
+that ground. His realm is very extensive. No man has the power (had he
+only the will) of depicting the simplicity of every-day life and objects
+with more grace or comprehensiveness. There are some touches in his
+'Village Blacksmith' inexpressibly beautiful, and worthy of BURNS'
+'Cotter's Saturday Night:'
+
+  'His hair is crisp and black and long,
+    His face is like the tan;
+  His brow is wet with honest sweat,
+    He earns whate'er he can,' etc.
+
+And then again:
+
+  'He goes on Sunday to the Church,
+    And sits among the boys;
+  He hears the parson pray and preach,
+    He hears his daughter's voice
+  Singing in the gallery,
+    And it makes his heart rejoice.'
+
+SEATSFIELD repeated these verses with much emotion; and I observed that a
+tear stood upon his lids. I therefore turned the conversation upon
+hydropathy, and introduced a quotation from PINDAR: [Greek: ariston men
+hydôr], _etc._
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'PINDAR, Sir, has expressed a great truth; but I think that
+PIERPONT has expressed it better. In his exquisite 'Ode on the Opening of
+the Marlborough Temperance-House' how beautifully he says, after speaking
+in regard to the virtues of cold water:
+
+  'Oh! had EVE'S hair
+    Been dressed in gin,
+  Would she have been
+    Reflected fair?'
+
+'And then, after describing the beauty of Eden, with its rills and
+pellucid brooks bubbling through the fresh meads, he goes on:
+
+  'Are not pure springs
+    And chrystal wells
+  The very things
+    For our Hotels?'
+
+'That, Sir, is excellent, and the somewhat homely imagery only enhances in
+my mind the truth of the sentiment. PIERPONT, Sir, is a very great man.'
+
+'As great as LONGFELLOW?'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'No, Sir, perhaps not; there is a considerable difference of
+calibre between them. I should say now that LONGFELLOW was a first-rate
+artist with a second-rate imagination, and that PIERPONT was only a
+second-rate artist with a first-rate fancy. There is no mistake in
+PIERPONT.'
+
+I smiled at SEATSFIELD'S affectation of Americanisms, as if out of
+compliment to myself, or in honor of the day; and I rejoined: 'There may
+be no mistake in PIERPONT, but there is one or two in LONGFELLOW.'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'Grammatical or prosodiacal?'
+
+'Neither; but in the beginning of his 'Psalm of Life,' he says:
+
+  'Tell me not in mournful numbers
+    Life is but an empty dream;
+  For the soul is dead that slumbers,
+    And things are not what they seem.'
+
+'Here he evidently meant things _are_ what they seem; for in the next
+stanza he goes on to say:
+
+  'Life is real, life is earnest,
+    And the grave is not its goal;
+  'Dust thou art, to dust returnest,'
+    Was not written of the soul.'
+
+Consequently, if life _is_ real and earnest, and the soul is incapable of
+mortality, things _must be_ what they seem, and the soul _cannot_ be dead
+that slumbers. And if the soul _is_ dead that slumbers, and things are
+_not_ really what they seem to be, life _is_ indeed an empty dream.'
+SEATSFIELD looked puzzled at this.
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'You are somewhat hypercritical. Great thoughts must not be
+trimmed to the exact dialect of business-men. LONGFELLOW reveals important
+truths; he utters what is pent within him from the impulse of utterance:
+he tells us that 'Art is long and Time is fleeting;' now some arts are not
+long, and time often drags heavily. It will not do to be too precise in
+poetry.'
+
+'But is that sentiment original? Does not one of the ancients say, '_Ars
+longa, vita brevis_?' and does not that come pretty near to LONGFELLOW'S
+idea?'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'Yes, Sir, but that is a little criticism which picks out
+words. LONGFELLOW, or yourself, or any other man, would have arrived at
+the same conclusion, even had the ancient author never written it.'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'We were here interrupted by a call to luncheon; and I take advantage of
+the break in my journal, to bring this article to a close. More of the
+SEATSFIELDIANA I reserve for another number, provided the public are not
+already glutted.'
+
+
+MAGAZINE WRITING.--We know not how we can better evince our appreciation
+of the kind and flattering comments of a Southern correspondent, who will
+at once recognize our allusion, than by citing the somewhat kindred
+remarks of an old and favorite contributor, now passed away from earth. It
+was a pleasing matter, he said, to sit down with the proper afflatus
+stirring within him, to write an article for a Magazine. 'If the work has
+a general prevalence; if its fame is rife on good men's tongues, the
+inspiration is the stronger. One says to himself, how many friends of mine
+will overlook these very lucubrations, perceive my initials, and recognize
+my name? How many pleasing associations will thus be awakened, and
+peradventure commendatory remarks expressed, concerning my powers? What a
+_quid pro quo_ for wakeful nights, emendations of phrases, the choosing of
+words, and toilsome revision! The other day,' he continues, 'while reading
+the proof-sheet of my article in the last KNICKERBOCKER, I fell into a
+train of reflection upon the large amount of care and labor which must be
+entailed upon the publisher and editor of an original Magazine. Some one
+has observed, that when we listen to an exquisite opera, or any elaborate
+and intricate piece of music, we think not how vast were the pains and
+attention bestowed upon every note and cadence; what efforts for
+perfection in a solo, what panting for a warble, what travail for a trill!
+Taken separately, and at rehearsals, in disjointed fragments of sound, how
+different are they from that volume of sweet concords which is produced
+when they are all breathed forth in order, to the accompaniment of flutes
+and recorders, in one full gush of melody! This is just like a Magazine.
+How many minds does it engage! Cherished thoughts and cherished feelings,
+polished or sublimated, there find utterance, and demand that honor and
+deference to which they are entitled. In his beautiful Introduction to the
+Harleian Miscellany, JOHNSON sets forth the necessity and benefit of
+similar writings, with reasons as conclusive as the language in which they
+are expressed is chaste and strong. In a country like ours, where the vast
+population move by common impulse; think promptly, are enlightened with
+ease, and turn to the best account that knowledge which is received with
+the greatest facility; are inspired with sacred and patriotic feelings
+from the bar, the senate, the pulpit, and the press; it is important and
+just that the readiest methods and means of instructive moral amusement
+should be the most esteemed and the best supported. I confess I never look
+into a Magazine, that I do not liken it to a large and pure reservoir of
+refreshing waters; derived from many streams, and prankt around its
+borders with the flowers and garniture of poesy; possessing qualities
+agreeable to every taste--the grave, the solid, the scientific, the light,
+the gay. It is a map of the higher moods of life. It conveys a sustenance
+with the relish of pleasure. All who favor it with their productions have
+different tastes and faculties of mind. Each one endeavors to do the best
+with his theme. He ornaments it in diction, or tasks his fancy, or
+explores the secrets of science, or illustrates the events and scenes of
+his country: he excites broad-mouthed laughter, by salutary jest and pun;
+he expatiates in pathetic sentences, or murmurs in the mellow cadence of
+song; or arouses interest by the embellishments wherewith history is
+refined, and which shed a light over the dim annals of the past, making
+them to smile,
+
+  ----'even as the radiant glow,
+  Kindling rich woods, whereon the etherial bow
+  Sleeps lovingly awhile.'
+
+'Now what I thought beside, while looking over my proof, was this: that a
+'circulating medium,' through which so many minds communicated their
+thoughts, produced and clothed with befitting language in solitary labor;
+smoothed, strengthened, or harmonized by revision, and rendered impressive
+by those helps and researches of which every _readable_ writer must avail
+himself; such a medium, I say, merits the esteem and respect of all. It
+deserves not to be taken up for judgment, at a momentary glance, by the
+undiscerning eye of careless inquiry. It should be read impartially, and
+spoken of, in all worthy points, with praise; in faulty ones, with
+tenderness. Our literature, I take it, is not yet a sufficiently flowery
+pursuit, to enable any of its votaries to sow its walks with brambles. By
+its influence, _the country_ is to be mentally illustrated; the clanking
+shackles of transatlantic humbug are to be thrown off; and the
+establishment of wholesome feelings, and reliance upon our own
+intellectual resources, firmly effected. I love to see the general press
+engaged now and then in cheering onward the laborers in the more
+unfrequented and toilsome avenues of our literary vineyard. It sends a
+GOD-speed to the bosoms of those whose travails are more for their country
+than themselves; and who are content, in anonymous pride, to believe, that
+it heralds that bright day of mental refinement which will ere long, among
+the freest and noblest confederacy of nations on earth, irradiate the
+utmost borders of that holy circumference,
+
+    'Our Native Land!'
+
+
+A THRUST WITH A TWO-EDGED WEAPON.--We rather incline to the opinion that
+the 'complainant below' is infringing the law which forbids the use of
+concealed weapons; that are not the less to be guarded against, certainly,
+when as in the present case they cut both ways. But our readers shall
+judge: DEAR EDITOR: The country, strange as it may appear, has peculiar
+and permanent inhabitants; neither dressing in skins, nor wearing their
+own feathers, but habited after the glimpses of fashion which reach them
+through their trees. As we have never yet met with a man who was so
+fortunate as to have no relations, we take it for granted that all
+city-zens, yourself among the rest, have country-cousins. Think of the
+countless multitudes that turn their longing eyes in the direction of a
+metropolis like this, yearning for a visit, and sending off by frequent
+_Opportunities_, never by mail, those remarkable epistolary compounds of
+hopes and wants which no other race of beings can compose in perfection:
+'Hope JOHN is well, and BETSEY will come and see us next summer; and
+want'--LAWSON and STEWART! what do they _not_ want? Every thing; from
+twenty yards of silk down to a penny's-worth of tape. The letters run
+somewhat in this guise, though less poetically:
+
+  'Cousin John, please to send down to-morrow,
+      At eight, by the Scarborough mail,
+  'Claudine, or the Victim of Sorrow,'
+      Don Juan, two mops and a pail;
+  Six ounces of Bohea from TWINING'S,
+      A peg-top, a Parmesan cheese,
+  Some rose-colored sarcenet, for linings,
+      A stew-pan, and STEVENSON'S Glees;
+  A song ending 'Hey-noni-noni,'
+      A chair with a cover of chintz,
+  A mummy dug up by BELZONI,
+      A skein of white worsted from FLINT'S.'
+
+Half the things that are sent for, they might buy at their own doors.
+Again and again we have known them put in commission and procure from an
+oppressed relative the identical productions of a manufactory within a
+mile of them. A singular virtue seems to abide in all that comes from the
+sunny side of Broadway.
+
+'You perhaps may not know what an OPPORTUNITY is. In love affairs you have
+undoubtedly experienced that it is every thing; but in rural affairs it is
+more. It is the common-carrier of a village. So soon as an inhabitant has
+expressed his intention of going to town, he becomes an Opportunity, and
+like a Chinese, liable to pains and penalties for leaving his native
+place. From every quarter pour in letters, bundles, and packages, which
+are to be carried with care and delivered with despatch. No thanks for his
+trouble, if they should reach their destination, and a general liability
+for the uncertain value of their contents if they should chance to be
+lost. So that an Opportunity's advent in town ought to be announced in
+this way: 'Arrived, HIRAM DOOLITTLE, from Connecticut, with m'dze to
+LEGION AND COMPANY.' The Opportunity not only transports, but acts as
+General Agent. Commissions are given him for a return freight. Hats,
+coats, dresses, are much wanted, which he is expected to select with
+taste, and to purchase cheap. Even the labyrinth of houses does not
+protect him from the Argus eyes of his consignees. They seek him out and
+insist upon his turning himself into a United States' mail and a HARNDEN'S
+express. It is not a week since we heard a consignee's friend's friend
+request an Opportunity to carry home a loaf of sugar to his country
+correspondent.
+
+'Perhaps, Friend KNICK., we are wounding your feelings all this time,
+tender by reason of many cousins and commissions; but we can assure you
+that we have an infinite respect for all relationship, and are rather
+blessed than bored by the requisitions of our own rural branches. We
+trust, however, that your rustic kith and kin do not come upon your house
+in the spring, in shoals like the shad. Unhappy editor, if it be so; for
+until the day predicted by ALPHONSE KARR, when connexions shall be cooked
+and _côtelettes d'oncle à la Béchamel_ and _têtes de cousin en tortue_
+shall smoke lovingly upon the table, there is nothing for you but to
+submit to your Fates, or to give up your house-keeping. But with country
+cozens, those provincials who are not bone of your bone, and who
+nevertheless at every visit to town call upon you with an eager look and
+covetous smile, as if to say, 'Ask us to dinner, we once invited you to
+tea,' there is but one method to pursue; the cut--the firm, unwavering,
+direct cut. Do not pretend not to see them, or to look fixedly in another
+direction, but give them the vacant, absent stare, as if you saw around
+them, and through them, and the image before you excited neither attention
+nor recollection. There are no terms to be kept with them. Their
+Shibboleth is not yours.
+
+'In the 'Absentee,' a London fashionable lady, Mrs. DAZEVILLE, goes to
+Ireland, and is hospitably received by Lady CLONBRONY, stays a month at
+her country-house, and is as intimate with Lady CLONBRONY and her niece
+Miss NUGENT, as possible; and yet when Lady CLONBRONY comes to London,
+never takes the least notice of her. At length, meeting at the house of a
+common friend, Mrs. DAZEVILLE cannot avoid recognizing her, but does it in
+the least civil manner possible: 'Ah, Lady CLONBRONY! Did not know you
+were in England! How long shall you stay in town? Hope before you leave
+England you will give us a day.' Lady CLONBRONY is so astonished at this
+ingratitude, that she remains silent; but Miss NUGENT answers quite
+coolly, and with a smile: 'A day? certainly, to you who gave us a month.'
+Miss EDGEWORTH evidently considers this a capital story; and we have no
+doubt that many stupid people who have read it consider it an excellent
+hit; but we can assure them that they know nothing of the woods and
+fields. It is a great favor to make people in the country a visit. It
+relieves them from the tiresome monotony of their rose-bushes and
+chickens; and by the active exertions in planning breakfasts and dinners,
+and making the one ride through the valley last for three afternoons,
+infuses if possible a certain degree of mental activity into their lives,
+which must be far from disagreeable to them. A cit too is in a certain
+degree a lion. The oldest town-jokes are as new in the country as last
+year's ribbons; and the neighbors gather together to view with delight a
+face that they have not seen every Sunday for the last fifty-two weeks,
+and are only too happy to engage the Novelty at a 'Tea.' But when they
+come to town, what can you do with them? Who the devil wants to see them?
+Your friends care little enough for you, still less for your agricultural
+acquaintances. You cannot bring yourself to go to PEALE'S Museum, or to
+see the talking-machine; and tickets at the opera are dear, unless you
+stand up. As we said before, you must cut them, or
+
+  'If you are a little man,
+  Not big enough for that,'
+
+you must try to have them arrested as soon as they arrive, as disturbers
+of domestic peace, and confined in the Tombs during the whole of their
+intended stay. If the Legislature sat in New-York instead of in a _country
+city_, they would pass some law similar to the South Carolina free-black
+law, confining all rural visitors, or at least making those liable to an
+indictment for false pretences, who claim acquaintance with the 'people of
+the whirlpool.'
+
+'If it were only for once, one might ask all his _rats des champs_ to meet
+one another at a Tea. This might be amusing, if the jest did not grow
+painful by repetition. There is no reciprocity in your dealings with such
+invitees. You will probably never again reach their Siberian settlement,
+whereas they come to town three times a year! It is not fair. It is a base
+cheat. How can they be so ungenerous and illiberal as to accuse you of
+neglect and ingratitude for not cultivating them when in the city? They
+might as well abuse you for not having a green-house! This doctrine of
+ours is so clearly reasonable, that all people of any breeding admit its
+truth, and act accordingly. You may stay a week at a country-seat, and
+need make no acknowledgments of any kind to the owner thereof in his
+town-house; whereas a dinner in the city is a debt of honor, which must be
+paid. This is a well settled law. Not that your obligation is by any means
+cancelled. It is not dead, but dormant. Next summer you will feel deep
+gratitude for the kindness you received during the last; but no such
+indebtedness is payable in urbanity. GEORGE SELWYN met in St.
+James-street, London, a man whom he had known very well in Bath, and
+passed steadily by him without a look of recognition. His acquaintance
+followed him, and said: 'Sir, you knew me very well in Bath.' 'Well, Sir,'
+replied SELWYN, 'in Bath I may possibly know you again.' Farewell.
+
+
+ANOTHER 'PELLET' FROM JULIAN.--Not a word is necessary by way of
+introduction to the ensuing passages from an epistle lately received from
+our esteemed friend and correspondent JULIAN. Happy husband of a happy
+wife and happier mother! Happy father! may his joy never be less: 'We are
+in the country! When you write this way, say 'To the care of ---- ----,
+Esq.', for we are designedly three miles from post-offices and newsboys. I
+have given warning that if any of the latter come within my grounds with
+his French things, I will souse him in the river, and hold him there till
+he shall be thoroughly chilled into a dislike of these parts. You will
+readily imagine why we are here. The excitements and distractions of city
+life for the last few months were too much for us, and there are some
+things that can only be enjoyed apart from the world. Here, we subside
+gradually and gracefully from that high and tense delirium from which I at
+least made my aërials, always coming back, however, to young JULIAN; who,
+by the way, is another occasion for country life, as I have great faith in
+first impressions, and I wish his to be bright and beautiful. Heaven
+preserve him from all darker colors; from the doubts, the glooms, the
+moral mistiness of your city atmosphere! Let no fog come between him and
+the bright sky, till he has well discovered that there is a heaven beyond,
+where there is neither cloud nor shadow, and up to which not one grain of
+all this dust and filth of the earth's whirling shall ever reach. It is
+quite enough that we are in sight and hearing of your great Babels; the
+jarring of their daily strife and the smoke of their torments. A lively
+and dashing river rolls between us, going off at a hand-gallop among rocky
+islands, over which we see their spires pointing up like electric-rods to
+avert the wrath that might otherwise descend upon them; and mingling with
+the dash of waters, we hear now and then their petty alarms, their
+steamers and fire-bells, and the dozen other occasions upon which they see
+fit to make a great noise in the world; but the travelled sound has a
+courtliness that is rather pleasant than otherwise; and as a key-note to
+our mocking-birds, it is quite worthy of the sweet south that brings it
+up. Whenever there is any sudden ebullition that cannot be pared down to
+the common air, we are made aware of it by a cannonading that is doubtless
+very considerable down there, but for any thing so ambitiously meant, it
+sounds here very miserable; a wretched attempt at notoriety, of which the
+most noticeable is the smoke of their powder. And so with all their
+sky-flourishing and rocketing, which we look at as at a falling star;
+pretty, no doubt, but not in our way. Every morning a railroad train
+starts out, and approaching within a mile, disappears among the hills with
+a slight buzzing and squibbing, like the fly on the window; and then after
+it has gone, as we suppose, there is another squib, very smart and
+snappish, and we hear nothing more of it till the train comes down, frets
+a little again as it passes by, and goes on to discharge its contents in
+the great city. To all these things we say, 'Pass on!' the world is
+various, and must be amused; but for us, we respectfully withdraw. We have
+had enough of the intense; we now welcome the trifling, appropriating
+however as much of the serious as we care to admit in our still life. When
+the Sabbath comes round, there are seven bells that reach us, each with
+its separate voice; and these, with falling waters, and the morning
+incense going up from the hill-sides, are as much of 'mass' as we care to
+have in our worship. But we have a ready ear for all sweet sounds, and
+need no glasses to appreciate the beautiful. Sunrise and sunset; the
+grouping of clouds; the blue haze that now and then lies on the landscape,
+all one with my cigar-smoke; and the storms and lightnings of the young
+summer, so spitefully beautiful; all these, with whatever of glory there
+may be in the still watches of the night, find their place in our
+picture-gallery; but we leave them as GOD made them, and add no tint to
+their coloring.
+
+'You are aware that the sun rises as per almanac. This is common; and so
+common, so much an every-day affair, that he gets very little credit
+therefor; and yet, that he will rise with great exactness, aside from all
+human calculation, and go on traversing the sky with a wonderful
+regularity that nothing can stop, is a very pleasant fact touching the
+prospect of to-morrow; and so also, that every thing in nature will be
+wrought with marvellous beauty and harmonies of sound; and oh! most
+satisfactory of all, there will still be an air that properly inhaled
+fills the _heart_ as well as the lungs. It is from a calm consideration of
+this fact, that we have done with the _eagerness_ of pleasure. No daily
+counting of hours to see that all have been properly brimmed; no grasping
+at a dozen things at once; no draining of the very dregs, lest that may be
+the last bottle, and we die to-morrow. But thankful as we are for
+to-morrow, and especially grateful for to-day, we don't care for
+noon-marks. We have kept no count lately, and for aught we know, Time may
+have stopped, but probably not. He is doubtless somewhere about, but we
+take no particular notice. Our watches have run down, and we care not to
+wind them again. The hours, if there are any, are all golden, and we have
+no occasion to note the passage one to the other; or if we start them,
+just to see the motion, they run on diamonds of the purest water; but
+mostly, whether it be morn, or mid-day, or the starry night, Sabbath or
+week-day, it is all one--all beautiful. Does it rain? It is quite proper.
+The earth needs it, no doubt, and it will look the more grateful therefor.
+Does it shine? Why then the birds will sing, and if they will come a
+little nearer, we will teach them that charming air from the last opera.
+Does a new star come out in heaven, or an old one disappear? The one will
+be an added glory, and the other not much missed; but they will little
+concern our astronomy. Expect no more rhapsodies, my friend, unless it be
+upon the wonderful ease with which every thing can be done without them.
+That we find all things pleasant, is the extent of our poetry. It is
+pleasant to wake; it is pleasant to sleep; it is pleasant to wake and
+sleep again; pleasant to watch the opening lid, and pleasant the smile
+that follows it; pleasant are kind words and tones, the touch of hands,
+and the touch of lips; the breath of flowers and those that love them;
+pleasant are the thousand infinitesimals, like the motes of the sun-beam,
+not less bright because of their minuteness; and pleasant the thought that
+sufficient as this heaven may be, there is another one above. And
+doubtless it is pleasant to breathe as usual, and feel the heart send
+round its currents with a touch of joy; but oh, pleasanter than all, to
+have no sigh or throb, to remind you that that breath must one day stop,
+and that warm blood turn cold. Oh! in the 'time' that is set apart 'for
+all things,' may heaven look kindly on and count these trifling hours!
+
+'Shall we ever leave this charming retreat? Certainly not, while these
+things last; but it is not impossible that we may return with the cold
+weather. Meanwhile, I have made a chalk-mark about the grounds, and as yet
+nothing with a bite or sting has passed over it. Mrs. JULIAN, as she now
+insists upon being called, has become highly contemplative; and if I did
+not know that she was never so happy before, I should think her sometimes
+a little sad; she is so quiet, so demure, and so eternally bewitched with
+that boy! Why Sir, she will sit for half a day over the fellow, amusing
+herself and him with I know not what varieties and wonders of invention;
+with lullabies and ditties and homoeopathies of language; and if he
+condescend to sleep for a few moments, how divinely still must every thing
+be! What infinite care is there in pinning the screen; what fortifications
+are built round about him; and what a world of protection in every
+movement! And then, when all is complete, she must still sit there, with
+that strange upward look which she has acquired lately, seeming to reach
+quite beyond the stars. She is a strange woman! Yesterday, having dined
+rather late, I happened to forget myself for a few moments on the lounge;
+and on waking, I found her kneeling before me, and looking up in my face
+with an expression that to me is peculiarly embarrassing; not the quick,
+joyous look, followed as quickly by the touch of lips; not that, but
+something quite indescribable. Perhaps I am not as considerate as I ought
+to be on such occasions, for doubtless she knows what she would be at, but
+I confess I do not. Indeed, she is constantly bringing out new points and
+flourishes, which to me are all vowels of the Hebrew; no doubt very sweet
+and musical, and certainly very necessary to the sense of the reading, but
+they are past all finding out. When she dazzles me with these brilliants,
+I sometimes reply in the Tartar, and so we are quits.
+
+'Young JULIAN developes slowly. He has smiled once or twice, but in a
+manner so precocious, that it would be alarming, if he were at all
+delicate. Fortunately he is not. His utterance as yet is quite
+unintelligible, though no doubt he has his meaning. To Mrs. JULIAN it is
+all poetry. '_Poeta nascitur_' may be quite true, but if he rhymes, which
+is quite possible to her ear, I am constrained to think that it is
+entirely accidental. I hope, at least, that he is not so viciously gifted.
+· · · HAVE I told you that she refuses a nurse, and that too pretty
+sharply? Well, that is not all; I can hardly touch the boy myself. She is
+so afraid I shall crush it! My raptures, she says, are not becoming; she
+even says that I 'frighten the child!' But she is the strangest of women!
+Last night, happening to wake some time in the small hours, I heard a
+slight noise in the room, and emerging from a dream, in which I remembered
+to have heard a good deal of crying and hushing, I listened intently for
+some moments, but couldn't for my life guess what it could be. There was
+nothing moving in the room, and the sound appeared to arise from some slow
+and uniform movement, so that it couldn't be the wind on the shutters; and
+if the mocking-birds had been sufficiently awake to swing, as they
+sometimes do, they would certainly have dropped a word or two, for they
+are great talkers. Now I often hear bells, fire-arms, and exclamations,
+and very often hear my name called, and questions asked, to which I reply
+in due form, all which I _know_ at the time to be imaginary; but this
+sound, though it seemed to be familiar, I couldn't make out. I was so
+drowsy, however, that I had half a mind to consider it a dream; but then
+what if any thing should happen? I should be responsible. Rising,
+therefore, very carefully, not to disturb Mrs. J., I discovered by the
+shaded light on the table that she was quite sound asleep; but what was
+wonderful, her right arm, outside the bed, was moving up and down with the
+regularity of a pendulum! What the deuce was all that? Well, Sir, I bent
+over breathlessly, and found she was pulling at a string! And what, O
+EDITOR! who ought to know every thing, what do you think she was pulling?
+Why, Sir, she was pulling at young JULIAN'S cradle. She was rocking the
+baby in her sleep! Oh!'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Apropos of 'the baby': an agreeable correspondent, from whom we shall be
+happy to hear 'frequently if not oftener,' intimates to us that our friend
+JULIAN, when the 'lactiferous animalcule' whose advent into this breathing
+world he lately described in such glowing terms, shall have reached a more
+mature babyhood, may find occasion to 'change the paternal note;' and he
+cites for us the following passage, from an essay by a sometime
+contributor to the KNICKERBOCKER, 'in justification of his fears:'
+
+    'In my bachelor visitations to my married friends, I have often
+    chuckled over the bashfulness, contending with love, which
+    distinguishes the YOUNG FATHER. In the pride of his heart,
+    perhaps, when his little man has first given evidence of that
+    degree of mental exertion called 'taking notice,' he clasps the
+    crowing baby in his arms; he rests its lily feet upon his knees;
+    he endures with philosophic patience all the 'gouging,' and
+    pulling, and kicking, with which the young hero may testify his
+    triumph; and while the young mother stands by, her eyes beaming
+    with mingled love and pride, he becomes warmer in his romps; makes
+    faces, as the nerveless fingers of the little one seek, with more
+    earnestness, his eyes, or pull with a greater effort at his lips;
+    and amid screams of laughter, he chases the flying hours, until at
+    length a 'pale cast of thought' flits over the baby's face, like a
+    cloud in a summer sky. This is the signal for immediate
+    seriousness. The father grows grave--then frightened. He raises
+    him gently from his lap, and with a single exclamation of 'Take
+    him mother!' consigns the precious charge to her arms, and darting
+    a hasty glance at his 'pants' he walks in silence from the room.
+    Nor do we bachelors always escape with impunity. Anxious to win a
+    smile from some fond mother, more than one of us may have dared to
+    approach, with a kiss, the hallowed lips of her darling. But mark
+    the quick wing of vengeance! Darting from its lurking place in the
+    mouth, out flies the little doubled fist, and slams a
+    well-beslabbered biscuit into the face of the intruder. He
+    recoils, with his 'reeking honors fresh upon him,' and the little
+    squab coos in triumph at his failure.'
+
+
+NATIONAL ACADEMY OF DESIGN.--The growing interest felt in relation to the
+Fine Arts in this country, and the influence which the NATIONAL ACADEMY OF
+DESIGN has had in producing that interest, make it imperative upon us to
+notice the pictures which are annually sent to this exhibition. In passing
+through the Academy with this object in view, we have been at some loss to
+know where to begin. Finding however by chance at the end of the catalogue
+an alphabetical arrangement of the exhibitors' names, we have adopted this
+as the best method of laying the merits of the several pictures before our
+readers. We therefore begin with:
+
+V. G. AUDUBON, A.--Mr. AUDUBON exhibits four pictures this season: of
+these, No. 133, 'Grove of Palm-trees' in the Island of Cuba, we prefer.
+This picture appears to be a faithful representation of the scene, and is
+handled with a free and firm pencil. The trees are perhaps a little too
+literally represented, to be agreeable to the eye, consisting as they do
+of so many equally straight and unpicturesque lines. No. 237, 'Moon-light
+Squall coming up,' is a pleasing representation of one of Nature's
+poetical moments. The light is clear and silvery, and the water
+transparent and truthful. The whole scene is interesting, and there is but
+little to find fault with; although perhaps parts would admit of more
+warmth of color.
+
+J. D. BLONDELL has six pictures, the majority portraits. No. 80, 'Portrait
+of a Lady,' half-length, is a pleasing picture; warm in color and
+carefully painted, and gives evidence of rising talent. The head is
+perhaps slightly deficient in careful drawing; but few artists are
+competent to paint a lady's portrait; and this gentleman should not feel
+discouraged, though his work be found slightly deficient in that grace
+which is so difficult of attainment.
+
+BODDINGTON, (London,) exhibits three landscapes, all in a style peculiarly
+belonging to the English school. They possess great charms; facility of
+execution, and delicacy of handling.
+
+BONFIELD.--No. 168 is perhaps the best of his productions. If it were not
+for the pinky hue of the sky, this would indeed be a charming picture.
+
+F. BAYLE.--No. 25; 'Picture-Dealer.' A deep-toned, carefully-painted
+picture, and evincing much promise in so young an artist. We are glad to
+perceive that it is purchased by the American Art-Union.
+
+G. L. BROWN.--No. 400; 'View of the Tiber.' Too much of an imitation of
+old pictures. In seeking this quality, the artist has lost sight of the
+truth and freshness of nature.
+
+CHAPMAN, N. A.--Mr. CHAPMAN presents nine pictures this season, and all in
+his usual brilliant style. No. 116, 'Peasant Girl of Albano,' is
+exceedingly rich in color, and forcible in effect: a few cool tints about
+the head-dress would give perhaps still greater value to the warm tones.
+No. 189, 'Hebrew Women,' is this artist's gem of the year. Well composed,
+pleasing in color, and carefully finished, it expresses the occurrence
+with fidelity and truth. No. 204, 'Boy in Indian Costume,' is an
+attractive picture; but No. 213, 'On the Fence,' is more to our liking.
+The story is well told; the city beau is carefully and truly represented;
+and the dogs are admirable. No. 263, portrait of Doctor ANDERSON, the
+father of wood-engraving in this country, is capital. No. 266, 'Lazy
+Fisherman,' is Laziness personified. No. 341, 'Sketch from Nature,' in
+water-colors, is an exemplification of this gentleman's versatility of
+talent.
+
+J. G. CLONNEY, A., has two pictures in the exhibition, Nos. 7 and 160. No.
+7, 'The New-Year's Call,' is decidedly the best. The negro is well
+painted. Mr. CLONNEY'S works generally evince great observation of nature
+in this class of subjects.
+
+T. COLE, N. A.--Mr. COLE exhibits but one picture, and that comparatively
+a small one. It possesses however many of the admirable characteristics of
+his works, particularly his early ones. It would be difficult to find a
+middle-ground and distance surpassing those of this picture.
+
+T. CRAWFORD, (Rome.)--Mr. CRAWFORD gives us two full-length statues, in
+which the charm of the _marble_ is strongly apparent. Mr. CRAWFORD, we
+grieve to say, is evidently too impatient in the finish of his works to
+produce that correctness which is essential to a high effort of art.
+
+J. F. CROPSEY.--No. 68, 'View in Orange County,' is a careful
+representation of nature, and has the appearance to our eyes of having
+been painted on the spot; a practice very rarely to be found in young
+artists. A continuance in this course will place this artist in a
+prominent position as a landscape-painter. The sky is faulty in color,
+being too purple to meet our views of nature; and there is a lack of
+delicacy in the more receding portions of the work. But the fore-ground is
+carefully painted, and full of truth.
+
+CUMMINGS, N. A.--Mr. CUMMINGS has but one picture. It possesses however
+the careful finish, gentlemanly character, and general truthfulness, so
+characteristic of this fine artist.
+
+T. CUMMINGS, JR., a young artist. No. 149, 'The Ball,' is his best work.
+In thus attempting a subject of great difficulty of execution, he evinces
+promise of future ability. The picture has many pleasing points, marked
+however with some errors, which time and practice, let us hope, will
+correct.
+
+C. CURTIS.--Mr. CURTIS has two pictures in the exhibition, and both of
+merit. No. 196 is among the best heads in the collection.
+
+J. W. DODGE, A.--'Miniature Portraits.' Those of HENRY CLAY and Gen.
+JACKSON are the most prominent. The likenesses are good, and the pictures
+carefully finished; a merit in works of this character frequently
+unattended to. There is, however, a want of dignity sometimes to be found
+in Mr. DODGE'S portraits, which we could wish to see remedied: it would
+give an elevation to his paintings which they at present lack.
+
+PAUL P. DUGGAN.--'John the Baptist' is a model in plaster, which displays
+greater knowledge of anatomy than we are in the habit of finding in the
+works of even older artists. In this respect it possesses great merit. We
+understand it is his first effort in modelling. As such, it is truly a
+work of the highest promise.
+
+DURAND, N. A.--Mr. DURAND has contributed largely to the present
+exhibition, in every sense of the word. His most prominent production is
+No. 36, 'The Solitary Oak.' For an exhibition-picture, perhaps it is not
+so striking as some of his previous works; yet it will bear examination
+better. Without any effort at warmth of color, it has that glow of
+sunlight which it is so difficult to express. A veteran tree, standing
+alone upon a gentle eminence, stretching forth its giant arms, that have
+withstood the storms of centuries, is truly a noble subject for an artist
+of Mr. DURAND'S reputation; and most truly has he depicted it. The
+distance is beautiful, and the introduction of cattle seeking their
+evening shelter gives an interest seldom to be found in works of this
+class. Should we attempt to find a fault, it would be the want of a little
+more warmth and clearness in the dark parts of the fore-ground. No. 134,
+another charming landscape; true to nature, of a silvery tone, and most
+exquisite sweetness of color and delicacy of touch. Nos. 181 and 258 are
+two careful studies from nature, wherein special care has been given to
+the trunks of trees, a feature in landscape-painting upon which sufficient
+attention is rarely bestowed. No. 244, 'Emigrant Family,' is full of
+interest. The travelling family are encamped under the shade of the trees,
+and the kettle hung over the fire shows that they are evidently preparing
+to refresh themselves for farther toil and journeying. The foliage of the
+trees is elaborately executed; the distance is well preserved; and the
+whole possesses great truth to nature; perhaps however, like all '_green_'
+pictures, it is less attractive in an exhibition than works of a warmer
+color. No. 163, 'Portrait of a Gentleman,' has great force, and shows the
+artist's versatility of genius.
+
+F. W. EDMONDS, N. A.--No. 105, 'Beggar's Petition,' is a spirited and
+faithful representation of the cold indifference to the wants of others,
+displayed in the miser's disposition. The figures are of life-size, and
+well drawn. The female supplicating in behalf of the distressed, is
+graceful in attitude, and admirably contrasted with the hoarding miser.
+No. 205, 'The Image Pedler,' is an effort of a higher order; for the
+artist has attempted, and successfully too, to elevate the class of works
+to which it belongs. In short, he has invested a humble subject with a
+moral dignity, which we hope our younger artists, who paint in this
+department, will not lose sight of. An independent farmer has his family
+around him, apparently immediately after dinner, and a strolling pedler
+appears among them, to dispose of his wares; and this gives interest to
+the whole group. The grandmother drops her peeling-knife, and the mother
+takes her infant from the cradle, to gaze at the sights in the pedler's
+basket. The husband, who has been reading in the cool breeze of the
+window, turns to participate in the sport; while the grandfather takes a
+bust of WASHINGTON, places it on the table, and commences an earnest
+elucidation of the character of the, 'Father of his Country' to the little
+children around him. All the figures are intelligent, and the whole scene
+conveys to the mind a _happy family_. In color, light and shade, and
+composition, it is masterly; and we see in it that minuteness of detail
+and careful finish are not incompatible with a broad and luminous effect.
+
+C. L. ELLIOTT has five portraits in the exhibition. His 'Full-length of
+GOV. SEWARD' is a prominent one, although not his most agreeable picture.
+No. 61 is we think the best, and is a well-managed portrait, both in
+drawing and color.
+
+G. W. FLAGG, H.--No. 63, 'Half-length of a Lady,' has considerable merit.
+It is rich and mellow in color, and better we think than many of Mr.
+FLAGG'S recent works. No. 208, 'The Widow,' is a popular picture; pleasing
+in expression, and possessing more refinement of character than is
+observable in many of his other portraits. No. 102, 'Bianca Visconti,' we
+do not admire.
+
+G. FREEMAN.--Miniature portraits, generally large, and highly finished.
+This gentleman has lately arrived from Europe, and is we believe a popular
+artist; yet we do not like his productions.
+
+J. FROTHINGHAM, N. A.--Nos. 32 and 35: portraits exhibiting Mr.
+FROTHINGHAM'S usual bold and free style in this department of art;
+remarkably fine likenesses; true in color, and of pleasing general effect.
+
+H. P. GRAY, N. A.--Mr. GRAY exhibits a number of his works this season. He
+seems to us to sacrifice every thing to color; and his color is not such
+as is generally seen in nature, but rather what he has seen in pictures.
+This we think a mistake, and one which we must be permitted to hope he
+will rectify. In the pictures which he formerly painted, a much closer
+attention to nature is observable. Mr. GRAY has all the feeling of an
+artist, with no ordinary talent; and we regret to find that he wanders
+from the direct path. We were among the first, if not the very first, to
+call public attention to his merits, and it is with reluctance that we
+perform the duty involved in these animadversions. 'Comparisons,' DOGBERRY
+tells us, 'are odorous;' we cannot help remarking, however, that Mr.
+GRAY'S old fellow-student, HUNTINGTON, is (_longa intervallo_) in the
+advance. We prefer, of our artist's present efforts, the picture of 'His
+Wife.' It has a pleasing effect, and is more finished than usual, and more
+natural in tone than his 'Magdalen.'
+
+J. T. HARRIS, A., has two pictures, and both portraits. No. 19 is the
+best. It exhibits a broad, free touch, and correct drawing, and is withal
+an excellent likeness. But we never look at Mr. HARRIS' works without
+being impressed with the idea that they are not finished. They seem to us,
+to borrow an artistical expression, as if they were in a capital state for
+'glazing and toning up.' Otherwise, they are above the ordinary run of
+portraits.
+
+G. P. A. HEALY, H.--Mr. HEALY is a resident of Paris, but an American. He
+is a favorite at the French court, and has by this means a reputation to
+which his works generally do not entitle him. We are bound in justice to
+say of his present effort, however, that it is an exceedingly fine
+picture. It is boldly and masterly executed; forcibly drawn, honestly
+colored, and well expressed. There is too about it a freedom from all the
+usual tricks of the profession, such as a red chair, velvet collar, and
+fantastic back-ground, which we particularly recommend to the attention of
+young artists.
+
+THOMAS HICKS, A., has eight pictures in the collection, but none,
+excepting his portraits, which equal his former productions. No. 264, 'The
+Mother's Grave,' is an oft-repeated subject, and should not be attempted
+unless the artist is able to treat it with entire originality. There are
+good points about it, but none sufficiently attractive to warrant
+particular notice.
+
+INGHAM, N. A., as usual has a fine collection of female portraits, all
+excellent for their careful drawing, lady-like expression, and high
+finish. The drapery and accessories of Mr. INGHAM'S portraits are always
+wonderfully exact to nature; and this greatly enhances the value of
+portraits of this description; for aside from their merit as likenesses,
+they will always be valuable as pictures. His male portrait, No. 113, of
+T. S. CUMMINGS, Esq., is a most admirable likeness, as well as a
+highly-wrought and masterly-painted picture. No. 239, 'Portrait of a
+Lady,' with a fan in her hand, is our favorite among his female heads.
+There is a sweetness and modesty in the expression, not only in the
+countenance but in the whole figure, which makes it peculiarly attractive.
+
+H. INMAN, N. A.--No. 62, 'Portrait of the late Bishop MOORE, of Virginia,'
+is the admiration of all who behold it. In color it surpasses any thing of
+Mr. INMAN'S we have seen in many a day. Clear and luminous, with great
+breadth of light, and a mild, pleasing expression. We of course mean this
+to apply to the head. The hand and part of the drapery are not, in our
+judgment, so well done. No. 104, 'Lady with a Mask,' we do not altogether
+like; yet it is remarkable for being foreshortened in every part, and
+possesses that singular charm of light and shadow, and accidental effect,
+which are the characteristics of our artist's pencil. No. 314, a
+Landscape, although small, is delicately handled, and 'touched in' with
+great neatness and accuracy. In effect it is attractive, and in color
+pleasing. The figure in the fore-ground equals in care and minuteness of
+finish the manner of WOUVERMANS.
+
+N. JOCELYN.--No. 57, 'Portrait of Professor SILLIMAN,' a faithful
+likeness, and carefully-painted portrait of a distinguished individual.
+No. 2, 'Portrait of a Child,' is another finished picture by this artist;
+clear and pearly in color and infantile in expression.
+
+ALFRED JONES.--No. 301, an engraving from MOUNT'S picture of 'Nooning,'
+for the American Art-Union, is one of the largest line-engravings ever
+published in this country, and a work of high order. This style of
+engraving has heretofore received so little encouragement, that until the
+Art-Union started it, no one except Mr. DURAND had ever before dared to
+attempt it. This effort of Mr. JONES does him great credit.
+
+M. LIVINGSTONE, A., has several works in the exhibition, but we cannot
+rank them among the higher class of landscapes. They lack the poetry of
+landscape-painting; but as amateur productions, they are very good.
+
+E. D. MARCHANT, A.--All portraits, but none of high merit. Mr. MARCHANT is
+a persevering artist, who paints good likenesses and pleasing pictures;
+and so far, is doubtless popular with those who employ him.
+
+JOHN MEGAREY has two portraits, and those far surpassing his former works.
+They are carefully painted, without an effort at any thing beyond the
+subject before the artist.
+
+We shall resume and conclude our remarks upon the exhibition in our next
+number.
+
+
+GOSSIP WITH READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS.--We are about to enter upon the
+TWENTY-FOURTH volume of the KNICKERBOCKER, for the advertisement of which,
+please note the second and third pages of the cover of the present number.
+We have nothing farther to add, than that 'what _has been_, is that which
+_shall be_,' in our onward progress. This Magazine, much the oldest in the
+United States, has been established, by the ever-unabated favor of the
+public, upon a basis of unshaken permanence. Its subscription-list
+fluctuates only in advance; it has the _affection_ of its readers, and all
+concerned in its production and promulgation, to a degree wholly
+unexampled; and it is designed not only to maintain, but continually to
+enhance, its just claims upon the liberal patronage of American readers.
+The arrangements for the next volume, if they do not 'preclude
+competition,' will be found, it is confidently believed, to preclude any
+thing like successful rivalry, on the part of any of our contemporaries.
+On this point, however, we choose as heretofore to be judged by the
+public. · · · WE gave in a recent issue two or three extracts from a
+lecture on '_The Inner Life of Man_' delivered by Mr. CHARLES HOOVER, at
+Newark, New-Jersey. This admirable performance has since been repeated to
+a highly gratified audience in this city; and from it we derive the
+following beautiful passage, which we commend to the heart of every lover
+of his kind: 'It is a maxim of patriotism never to despair of the
+republic. Let it be the motto of our philanthropy never to despair of our
+sinning, sorrowing brother, till his last lingering look upon life has
+been taken, and all avenues by which angels approach the stricken heart
+are closed and silent forever. And in such a crisis, let no counsel be
+taken of narrow, niggard sentiment. When in a sea-storm some human being
+is seen in the distant surf, clinging to a plank, that is sometimes driven
+nearer to the shore, and sometimes carried farther off; sometimes buried
+in the surge, and then rising again, as if itself struggling like the
+almost hopeless sufferer it supports, who looks sadly to the shore as he
+rises from every wave, and battling with the billow, mingles his cry for
+help with the wild, mournful scream of the sea-bird; nature in every bosom
+on the shore is instinct with anxious pity for his fate, and darts her
+sympathies to him over the laboring waters. The child drops his
+play-things, and old age grasps its crutch and hurries to the spot; and
+the hand that cannot fling a rope is lifted to heaven for help. What
+though the sufferer be a stranger, a foreigner, an enemy even? Nature in
+trouble, in consternation, shrieks '_He is a man!_' and every heart and
+hand is prompt to the rescue.' 'To a high office and ministry, to a life
+of beneficence, pity and love, each man should deem himself called by a
+divine vocation, by the appointment of nature; and otherwise living,
+should judge himself to be an abortion, a mistake, without signification
+or use in a world like ours. And the beauty, the glory of such a life, is
+not to be reckoned among ideal things heard out of heaven but never
+encountered by the eye. This world has had its CHRIST, its FENELONS, its
+HOWARDS, as well as its CALIGULAS and NEROS. Love hath been at times a
+manifestation as well as a principle; and the train of its glory swept far
+below the stars, and its brightness has fallen in mitigated and mellowed
+rays from the faces of men. As the ambiguous stranger-star of Bethlehem
+had its interpreting angel-song to the herdsmen of the plains, so loving
+men in all ages have given glimpses and interpretations of the love of
+GOD, and of the pity that is felt for the miserable and the guilty in the
+palace and presence-chamber of JEHOVAH. What glory within the scope of
+human imitation and attainment is comparable to that of the beneficent,
+the sympathising lover of his race? What more elevated, pure, and
+beautiful is possible among the achievements of an endless progression in
+heaven itself? MILTON represents the profoundest emotions of joy and
+wonder among the celestial hosts as occasioned by the first anticipative
+disclosures of divine pity toward sinning man; and a greater than MILTON
+assures us that the transport and festival of angelic joy occurs when Pity
+lifts the penitent from his prostration and forgives his folly.' · · ·
+EMBELLISHMENT would seem to be the literary order of the day, in more ways
+than one. It has come to be the mode to express the most simple thought in
+the most magniloquent phrase. This propensity to lingual _Euphuism_ has
+given rise to sundry illustrations, in embellished maxims, which are
+particularly amusing. They are of the sort so finely satirized by
+'OLLAPOD,' on one occasion, two or three examples of which we annex. The
+common phrase of ''Tis an ill wind that blows nobody any good' was
+transformed into 'That gale is truly diseased which puffeth benefactions
+to nonentity;' 'Let well enough alone,' into 'Suffer a healthy sufficiency
+to remain in solitude;' and 'What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the
+gander,' into 'The culinary adornments which suffice for the female of the
+race _Anser_, maybe relished also with the masculine adult of the same
+species.' Some London wag, in a kindred spirit, has illustrated the
+cockney song, 'If I had a donkey as vouldn't go, do you think I'd wallop
+him?' etc., as follows: 'The herbaceous boon and the bland recommendation
+to advance, are more operative on the ansinine quadruped than the stern
+imprecation and the oaken cudgel:
+
+  'Had I an ass averse to speed,
+  I ne'er would strike him; no indeed!
+  I'd give him hay, and cry 'Proceed,'
+        And 'Go on EDWARD!''
+
+The same species of satire is now and then visited upon the 'Troubadour
+Songs,' which have become so afflictingly common of late years. Some of
+these we have already given; and we find them on the increase in England.
+We have before us, from the London press of TILT AND BOGUE, 'Sir
+WHYSTLETON MUGGES, a Metrical Romaunte, in three Fyttes,' with copious
+notes. A stanza or two will suffice as a specimen. The knightly hero, it
+needs only to premise, has been jilted by his fair 'ladye-love,' who
+retires to her boudoir, while the knight walks off in despair:
+
+    'Hys herte beat high and quycke;
+  Forth to his tygere he did call,
+  'Bring me my palfrey from his stall,
+    For I moste cotte my stycke!'
+
+    'Ye stede was brought, ye knyghte jomped up,
+  He woulde not even stay to sup,
+    But swyft he rode away;
+  Still groanynge as he went along,
+  And vowing yet to come out stronge,
+    Upon some future day.
+
+  'Alack for poore Syr WHYSTLETON,
+    In love and warre so bold!
+  Ye Ladye BLANCHE hym browne hath done,
+    He is completely solde!
+
+  'Completely solde alack he is,
+    Alack and wel-a-day;
+  Mort DIEU! a bitterre fate is hys
+    Whose trewe love sayth him nay!'
+
+Thus endeth 'Fytte ye First.' We learn from the preface that the 'Rhime of
+the Manne whose Mothre did not Know he was Out,' and 'Ye Lodgemente of
+Maistre FERGISOUN,' are also in the editor's possession, but owing to the
+imperfect state of the MSS., it is doubtful whether they will ever be
+published. They have however been submitted to the inspection of 'The
+PERCY Society!' · · · WE are well pleased to learn that Sir EDWARD LYTTON
+BULWER, the distinguished author, is soon to visit the United States. That
+he will be warmly welcomed and cordially received, we cannot doubt; but we
+have good reason to believe that in the present instance at least our
+admiration of true genius will be tempered by all proper self-respect. Mr.
+BULWER has for many years entertained a desire to visit America. In one of
+his letters to the late WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK, now lying before us, he
+writes: 'I have long felt a peculiar admiration for your great and rising
+country; and it gives me a pleasure far beyond that arising from a vulgar
+notoriety, to think that I am not unknown to its inhabitants. Some time or
+other I hope to visit you, and suffer my present prepossessions to be
+confirmed by actual experience.' · · · WE have received and perused with
+gratification the last report of the '_New-York Asylum for Deaf Mutes_.'
+The institution is in the most flourishing condition, and its usefulness
+greatly increased. We are sorry to perceive, by the following 'specimen of
+composition' of a pupil in the eighth class, that the 'Orphic Sayings' of
+Mr. A. BRONSON ALCOTT are taken as literary models by the deaf and dumb
+students. The ensuing is certainly much better, internally, than anything
+from the transcendental 'seer;' but the manner too nearly resembles his,
+for both to be original. There is the same didactic condensation, the same
+Orphic 'oneness,' which distinguishes all _Alcottism_ proper. It is
+entitled 'Story of Hog:'
+
+    'I walked on the road. I stood near the water. I undressed my
+    feet. I went in the water. I stood under the bridge. I sat on the
+    log. I washed my feet with hands. I looked at large water came. I
+    ran in the water. I ran out the water. The large water floated
+    fast. I afraid. I wiped feet with stockings. I dressed my feet
+    with stockings and shoes. I went on the ground. I stood on the
+    ground. I seen at the hog ate grass. The hog seen at me. I went on
+    the ground. I ran. The hog heard. The hog looked at me. It ran and
+    jumped. The hog ran under the fence and got his head under the
+    fence and want to ran out the fence! I caught ears its hog. The
+    hog shout. I pulled the hog out the fence. I struck a hog with
+    hand. I rided on the hog ran and jumped fast. The hog ran fell on
+    near the water. I rided off a hog. I stood. I held one ear its
+    hog. The hog slept lies on near the water. I waited. I leaved. I
+    went from the hog. The hog awoke. It rose. It saw not me. It ran
+    and jumped. The hog went from the water. The hog went in the mud
+    and water. The hog wallowed in the mud and water became very
+    dirty. It slept. I went. I went into the house.'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE EKKALAEOBION is the name given to an establishment opposite the
+Washington Hotel, in Broadway, where the formation of chickens, _ab
+initio_, is 'practised to a great extent.' And really, it is in some
+respects an awful exhibition, to a reflecting mind. It is as it were a
+visible exposition of the source of life. You see the pulse of existence
+throbbing in the yet unformed mass, which assumes, day after day, the
+image of its kind; until at length the little creature knocks for
+admittance into this breathing world; steps forth from the shell in which
+it had been so long 'cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in;' and straitway
+walks abroad, 'regenerated, disenthralled,' and ready for its 'grub.' By
+all means, reader, go and see this interesting and instructive exhibition.
+It is provocative of much reflection, aside from the mere contemplation of
+it as a matter of curiosity. · · · THE correspondent who sends us the
+following, writes upon the envelope containing it: 'I have endeavored to
+preserve the measure of the original, and at the same time to present a
+literal translation.' It will be conceded, we think, that he has been
+successful in his endeavor. Perhaps in some lines (as in '_Pertransivit
+gladius_') the translation is a little _too_ literal:
+
+
+STABAT MATER.
+
+  I.                              I.
+
+  Stabat mater dolorosa,          Near the cross the Mother weeping
+  Juxta crucem lacrymosa,         Stood, her watch in sorrow keeping
+    Dum pendebat filius:            While was hanging there her SON:
+  Cujus animam gementem,          Through her soul in anguish groaning,
+  Contristantem et dolentem,      O most sad, HIS fate bemoaning,
+    Pertransivit gladius.           Through and through that sword was run.
+
+  II.                             II.
+
+  O quam tristis et afflicta      Oh how sad with woe oppressed,
+  Fuit illa benedicta,            Was she then, the Mother blessed,
+    Mater unigeniti:                Who the sole-begotten bore:
+  Quæ moerebat, et dolebat,       As she saw his pain and anguish,
+  Et tremebat, cum videbat        She did tremble, she did languish,
+    Nati poenas inclyti.            Weep her holy Son before.
+
+  III.                            III.
+
+  Quis est homo qui non fleret,   Who is he his tears concealing,
+  Christi matrem si videret       Could have seen such anguish stealing
+    In tanto supplicio?             Through the Saviour-mother's breast?
+  Quis posset non contristari,    Who his deepest groans could smother,
+  Piam matrem contemplari,        Had he seen the holy Mother
+    Dolentem cum filio?             By her Son with grief oppressed!
+
+  IV.                            IV.
+
+  Pro peccatis suæ gentis        Christ for Israel's transgression
+  Vidit Jesum in tormentis,      Saw she suffer thus oppression,
+    Et flagellis subditum;         Torment, and the cruel blow:
+  Vidit suum dulcem natum        Saw Him desolate and dying;
+  Morientem, desolatum,          Him she loved, beheld Him sighing
+    Dum emisit spiritum.           Forth His soul in deepest woe.
+
+  V.                             V.
+
+  Eja mater, fons amoris,        Source of love, thy grief, O Mother,
+  Me sentire vim doloris         Grant with thee to share another--
+    Fac, ut tecum lugeam.          Grant that I with thee may weep:
+  Fac ut ardeat cor meum,        May my heart with love be glowing,
+  In amando Christum Deum,       All on Christ my God bestowing,
+    Ut sibi complaceam.            In His favor ever keep.
+
+  VI.                            VI.
+
+  Saneta mater, istud agas,      This, oh holy Mother! granting,
+  Crucifixi fige plagas          In my heart the wounds implanting
+    Cordi meo valide:              Of His cross, oh let me bear:
+  Tui nati vulnerati,            Pangs with which thy Son when wounded
+  Jam dignati pro me pati,       Deigned for me to be surrounded,
+    Poenas mecum divide.          [] Grant, oh grant that I may share.
+
+  VII.                           VII.
+
+  Fac me vere tecum flere,       Be my eyes with tears o'erflowing,
+  Crucifixo condolere,           For the crucified bestowing,
+    Donec ego vixero:              Till my eyes shall close in death:
+  Juxta crucem tecum stare,      Ever by that cross be standing,
+  Te libenter sociare            Willingly with thee demanding
+    In planctu desidero.           But to share each mournful breath.
+
+  VIII.                          VIII.
+
+  Virgo virginum præclara,       Thou of virgins blest forever,
+  Mihi jam non sis amara         Oh deny I pray thee never
+    Fac me tecum plangere;         That I may lament with thee:
+  Fadut portem Christi mortem,   Be my soul His death enduring,
+  Passionis ejus sortem,         And His passion--thus securing
+    Et plagas recolere.            Of His pains the memory.
+
+  IX.                            XI.
+
+  Fac me plagis vulnerari,       With those blows may I be smitten,
+  Cruce hac inebriari,           In my heart that cross be written,
+    Ob amorem filii:               For thy Son's dear love alway:
+  Inflammatus et accensus        Glowing, burning with affection,
+  Per te, virgo, sim defensus    Grant me, Virgin! thy protection,
+    In die judicii.                In the dreaded judgment-day.
+
+  X.                             X.
+
+  Fac me cruce custodiri,        May that cross its aid extend me,
+  Morte Christi præmuniri,       May the death of Christ defend me,
+    Confoveri gratia:              With its saving grace surround;
+  Quando corpus morietur,        And when life's last link is riven,
+  Fac ut animæ donetur           To my soul be glory given,
+    Paradisi gloria.               That in Paradise is found.
+
+_St. Paul's College._                                         G. H. H.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'_A Story of Sorrow and Crime_' is an affecting monitory sketch, devoid of
+that mawkishness which is sometimes the characteristic of kindred
+performances. The writer's reflections upon the career of his hero, remind
+us of that beautiful passage in one of BLAIR'S essays: 'Life is short: the
+poor pittance of seventy years is worth being a villain for. What matters
+it if your neighbor lies in a splendid tomb? Sleep you with innocence!
+Look behind you through the track of time; a vast desert lies open in the
+retrospect; through this desert have your fathers journeyed on, until
+wearied with years and sorrows, they sunk from the walks of men. You must
+leave them where they fell, and you are to go a little farther, where you
+will find eternal rest. Whatever you may have to encounter between the
+cradle and the grave, every moment is big with innumerable events, which
+come not in slow succession, but bursting forcibly from a revolving and
+unknown cause, fly over this orb with diversified influence.' · · · 'F.
+P.'s '_Western Adventures_' have good _points_ about them, but if
+published entire, would we think disappoint himself perhaps as much as his
+readers. Here is an anecdote, however, which is worth 'jotting down' in
+types: 'I met not long after in New-York a man who had just been induced
+to rent the very hotel in Kentucky which was the scene of the reverses I
+have been describing. Aware that I had at one time kept the establishment,
+he was anxious to know my opinion of its pecuniary promise. 'I don't
+expect to make much the first year,' said he; 'I shall be satisfied if I
+'realize' all expenses. But do you think I shall clear myself the first
+year?' 'I haven't the slightest doubt of it,' I replied; '_I cleared
+myself_ before the first six months were up, and was d--d _glad_ to get
+off so; and I rather guess that _you'll_ be too, in about half that time.'
+And he was!' · · · Could there be a more affecting picture than that of a
+fond mother learning for the first time from the tell-tale prattle of her
+little ones that she is 'given over to darkness and the worm' by her
+friends, who had disguised from her the fatal truth? Such is the scene
+depicted in these pathetic lines:
+
+  'He speaketh now: 'Oh, mother dear!'
+    Murmurs the little child:
+  And there is trouble in his eyes,
+    Those large blue eyes so mild:
+
+  'Oh, mother dear! they say that soon,
+    When here I seek for thee
+  I shall not find thee--nor out there,
+    Under the old oak-tree;
+
+  'Nor up stairs in the nursery,
+    Nor any where, they say:
+  Where wilt thou go to, mother dear?
+    Oh, do not go away!'
+
+  There was long silence, a deep hush,
+    And then the child's low sob:
+  _Her_ quivering eyelids close: one hand
+    Keeps down the heart's quick throb.
+
+  And the lips move, though sound is none,
+    That inward voice is prayer.
+  And hark! 'THY will, O LORD, be done!'
+    And tears are trickling there--
+
+  Down that pale cheek, on that young head;
+    And round her neck he clings;
+  And child and mother murmur out
+    Unutterable things.
+
+  _He_ half unconscious, _she_ deep-struck
+    With sudden, solemn truth,
+  That number'd are her days on earth--
+    Her shroud prepared in youth:
+
+  That all in life her heart holds dear
+    GOD calls her to resign:
+  She hears, feels, trembles--but looks up,
+    And sighs 'THY will be mine!''
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'I came down from Albany the other evening,' writes a correspondent, 'in
+that floating palace, the KNICKERBOCKER steamer; I slept in your
+KNICKERBOCKER state-room; arrived in town, I took after dinner a
+KNICKERBOCKER omnibus, and rode up to the 'Westminster Abbey Bowling
+Saloon,' named of KNICKERBOCKER; I called on you with my article for the
+KNICKERBOCKER Magazine; and on my way down, enjoyed a delightful ablution
+at the KNICKERBOCKER Bath; stepped into the KNICKERBOCKER Theatre, and
+'laughed consumedly' over an amusing play; and finally, closed with a cup
+of delicious tea, green and black, and anchovy-toast, at KNICKERBOCKER
+Hall. Every thing, I was glad to see, was KNICKERBOCKER.' Very flattering;
+yet we dare say our friend was not aware that this Magazine was the
+_pioneer_ in the use of this popular name in Gotham, and that its example
+has suggested, one after another, the namesakes to which he has alluded.
+Such, howbeit, is the undeniable fact. · · · We remarked the example of
+_catachresis_ to which 'L.' alludes, and laughed at it, we venture to say,
+as heartily as himself. It was not quite so glaring however as the
+confused images of a celebrated Irish advocate: 'I smell a rat; I see it
+brewing in the storm; and I will crush it in the bud!' · · · We find
+several things to admire in our Detroit friend's '_Tale of Border
+Warfare_;' but he can't 'talk Indian'--that is very clear. The 'abrogynes'
+are not in the habit of making interminable speeches: they leave that to
+white members of Congress, who pump up a feeling in a day's speech 'for
+Buncombe.' Do you remember what HALLECK says of RED-JACKET?
+
+  'The spell of eloquence is thine, that reaches
+    The heart, and makes the wisest head its sport;
+  And there's one rare, strange virtue in thy speeches,
+    The secret of their mastery--_they are short_.'
+
+Not one man in a thousand can talk or write the true 'Indian.' Our friend
+SA-GO-SEN-O-TA, formerly known as Col. WILLIAM L. STONE, is one of the
+best Indian writers in this country. His late letter 'To the Sachems,
+Chiefs, and Warriors of the Seneca Indians,' acknowledging the honor they
+had done him in electing him a chief, is a perfect thing in its kind. May
+it be long before the 'MASTER OF BREATH' shall call him to 'the fair
+hunting-grounds, through clouds bright as fleeces of gold, upon a ladder
+as beautiful as the rainbow!' · · · Our entertaining '_Dartmoor Prisoner_'
+has a pleasant story of a fellow-captive who on one occasion performed
+that 'cautionary' experiment which is sometimes denominated 'putting your
+foot in it.' The term is of legitimate origin, it should seem. According
+to the _Asiatic Researches_, a very curious mode of trying the title to
+land is practised in Hindostan. Two holes are dug in the disputed spot, in
+each of which the lawyers on either side put one of their legs, and remain
+there until one of them is tired, or complains of being stung by the
+insects, in which case his client is defeated. In this country it is the
+client and not the lawyer who 'puts his foot into it!' · · · We have
+commenced in the present, and shall conclude in our next number, a
+'_Legend of the Conquest of Spain_,' by WASHINGTON IRVING. We derive it
+from the same source whence we received the 'Legend of Don RODERICK,'
+lately published in these pages. We commend its graphic limnings and
+stirring incidents to the admiration of our readers. · · · A FRIEND and
+correspondent in a sister city dashes in with a rich brush, in one of his
+familiar letters to us, a sketch of a boss-painter, who was renovating the
+writer's house with sundry pots of paint; a conceited, half-informed prig,
+who having grown rich, talks of 'going to Europe in the steam-boat,' and
+has a huge fancy for seeing Italy. 'Yes,' said the house-and-sign RAPHAEL,
+'I must see Rome and Athens; them Romans allers made a great impression on
+me; the land of APELLES and XERXES; ah! that must be worth travelling
+for.' 'Would you not rather run over England?' I asked; but the ass
+_poohed_ at England, and on the strength of his daubing our house-blinds,
+claimed an interest in the Fine Arts abroad: 'No, Sir, give me Italy--the
+Loover and the Vattykin; them's the places for my money! Gods! how I
+should like to rummage over them old-masters! They beat _us_ all
+hollow--that's a fact. I'll give in to them. There never was such painters
+before, nor never will be. I want to study 'em.' 'Yes,' I rejoined;
+''twould interest you, doubtless; and after having studied the great
+painters in Italy, you might return by way of Switzerland, and scrape
+acquaintance with the _glaciers_.' The booby did not _take_, but only
+stared and said: 'Oh, they're famous for glass-work there, be they?' This
+lover of the Fine Arts had a counterpart in the man who having 'made as
+much money as he wanted by tradin' in Boston,' went 'a-travelling abroad;'
+and while in Florence, called on POWERS the sculptor, with a design to
+'patronize' him a little. After looking at his 'Greek Slave,' his 'Eve,'
+and other gems of art, he remarked that he 'thought they'd look a good
+'eal better if they had some clothes on. I'm pretty well off,' he
+continued, 'and ha'n't a chick nor child in the world; and I thought I'd
+price a _statty_ or two. What's the damage, now, for that one you're
+peckin' at?' 'It should be worth from four to five thousand dollars, I
+think,' answered POWERS. 'What! five thousand dollars for _that 'are_! I
+cal'lated to buy me a piece of _stattyary_ before I went home, but
+_that's_ out of the question! _Hasn't stattyary riz lately?_ How's
+paintin's here now?' · · · Just complaints are made by our city
+contemporaries of the exorbitant rates of postage upon weekly periodicals.
+Mr. WILLIS complains, in the '_New-Mirror_' weekly journal, that country
+postmasters charge so much postage on that periodical by mail, that in
+many cases it would make the work cost to its country subscribers something
+like ten dollars a year! All postage in this country is at too high a
+rate; and so long as it remains so, the law will continue to be evaded.
+'Cheating UNCLE SAM' is not considered a very heinous offence. There is
+nothing one robs with so little compunction as one's country. It is at the
+very worst robbing only eighteen millions of people. · · · The lines sent
+us in rejoinder to the stanzas of 'C. W. D.,' in a late issue, would not
+be _original_ in our pages; nor could we hope to have many _new_ readers
+for them, after they have appeared in, and of course been copied from,
+that exceedingly pleasant and well-edited daily journal, the _Boston
+Evening Transcript_. · · · HAUFFMAN, the German poet, was recently expelled
+from the Prussian dominions, and all his works proscribed thenceforth. 'Served
+him right;' for in one of his works appears the 'word following, to wit:'
+'_Sleuerverweigerungsverfassungsmassigberechtig_!'--meaning a man who is
+exempt by the constitution from the payment of taxes. 'Myscheeves thick'
+must needs follow such terrific words. 'We have heard,' says a London
+critic, in allusion to this jaw-breaker, 'of a gentleman, a member of the
+_Marionettenschauspielhausengesellschaft_, who was said to be an excellent
+performer on the '_Constantinopolitanischetudelsackpfeife_!'' · · · We owe
+a word of apology to our friends the publishers, for the omission of
+notices which we had prepared of their publications, and which are crowded
+out by our title-page and index, that were forgotten until the last
+moment. We shall 'bring up arrears' in our next.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly
+Magazine, June 1844, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KNICKERBOCKER ***
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly
+Magazine, June 1844, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly Magazine, June 1844
+       Volume 23, Number 6
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Lewis Gaylord Clark
+
+Release Date: May 15, 2008 [EBook #25475]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KNICKERBOCKER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+    T H E  K N I C K E R B O C K E R.
+
+VOL. XXIII.      JUNE, 1844.       NO. 6.
+
+
+
+
+THE PLAGUE AT CONSTANTINOPLE.
+
+BY AN EYE-WITNESS.
+
+
+In 1837 I was a resident in Galata, one of the faubourgs of Constantinople,
+sufficiently near the scenes of death caused by the ravages of the plague
+to be thoroughly acquainted with them, and yet to be separated from the
+Turkish part of the population of that immense city. It is not material to
+the present sketch to dwell upon the subject of my previous life, or the
+causes which had induced me to visit the capital of the East at such a
+period of mortality; and I will therefore only add, that circumstances of
+a peculiarly painful nature obliged me to locate myself in Galata, where
+there were none to sympathize in my feelings, or any one with whom I could
+even exchange more than a word of conversation. I saw none but the widowed
+owner of the house in which I had a chamber, her daughter Aleuk�, and
+Petraki, her little son.
+
+While the epidemic raged, we four endeavored to keep up a rigid
+quarantine. Each recommended to the other the strictest observance of our
+mutual agreement not to receive any thing from without doors, except the
+necessaries of life; and whenever we left the house, which was to be as
+seldom as possible, not to come in contact with any one. Whenever I went
+out I invariably wore an oil-cloth cloak, and by the aid of my cane
+prevented the dogs of the streets, which are there so numerous, from
+rubbing against me. If I visited any one, which I seldom did, I always sat
+on a bench or chair to prevent conveying or receiving contagion; and
+before even entering the house, I always underwent the preparation of
+being smoked in a box, which during the prevalence of the plague is placed
+near its entrance for that purpose. These boxes were some eight feet high
+by three square, the platform on which the feet rested elevated about a
+foot above the earth, so as to admit under it a dish containing the
+ingredients of the prophylactic, and a hole in the door to let the face
+out during the smoking of the clothes and body. We procured our daily
+supply of provisions from a _Bak-kal_, a retail grocer, whose shop was
+directly under our front window; an itinerant _Ekmekjer_, or bread-man,
+brought our bread to the door; our vegetables were procured from a
+gardener close by, and our water we drew from a cistern under the house:
+in fine, our food was either smoked or saturated before we touched it, and
+every possible precaution observed to cut our little family off from the
+dreadful scourge, 'the pestilence which walketh in darkness and the
+destruction which wasteth at noon day.' The mother and daughter throughout
+the day spun silk, knitted woolen suits, or embroidered kerchiefs for head
+dresses, called in Romaic _fakiolee_, and even to a late hour of the night
+they frequently continued the same employment, until the plague prevented
+the sale of their handiwork, and their materials were all used up. All day
+long they would sit upon the sofa of their little apartment, facing the
+street, and while their hands toiled for a subsistence, the widow's
+daughter hummed a plaintive air, or occasionally broke the silence by
+conversing with her mother. The son was yet too young to be of assistance
+to his desolate mother and sister, and except when he said his letters to
+them, spent the day in idleness. As to my own employment, the dull period
+of time passed with them was a blank in my existence; and yet, such is the
+influence of past penury and pain, that I now recall them with pleasure.
+
+The weather was generally very warm, and south-west breezes over the sea
+of Marmora prevailed. From our highest windows we could observe sluggish
+seamen lounging on the decks of their vessels in the port, afraid to land
+amid the pestilence. Here and there a vessel strove against the current of
+the Bosphorus to gain an anchorage; or would slowly float down that stream
+into the open sea, on its way to healthier and happier Europe. The
+starving dogs at nightfall would howl dismally, bewailing the loss of the
+benevolent hands from which they usually received their food; the gulls
+and cormorants floated languidly over our dwelling, overpowered by the
+heat; and the dead silence, which in the afternoon and evenings prevailed,
+made a most melancholy and affecting impression on my mind.
+
+The plague that summer, (I may limit the period to three months,) carried
+off more than fifty thousand persons. For some time the mortality amounted
+to a thousand _per diem_. The number of corpses which passed the limited
+range of my window daily increased; and after witnessing the spectacle for
+some time, I always insensibly avoided the sight of the dead, and felt a
+cold shudder run over my frame whenever the voice of the priest
+accompanying the corpses struck my ear. So dreadful is the malady, so
+surely contagious, and so mortal, that so soon as attacked, the
+unfortunate being is deserted by relatives and friends, and when dead, two
+or four porters beside a priest were generally the only persons who
+attended the body to the grave. When the deceased is a Mussulman, he is
+more frequently attended during his illness, and after death to his tomb,
+than if a Christian. With the former, the plague is a visitation of
+Providence, from which it is both useless and a sin to escape, while with
+the latter not only is it deemed necessary to provide for one's own life,
+but even to do so at the sacrifice of the dearest friend. Often I noticed
+a dead body tied on a plank which a single porter carried on his back; at
+other times the object would be concealed within a bag, and then the grave
+was a ditch common to all, into which the porter would shake off his load
+and return for another. No priest or Imam there presided over the funeral
+scene; few or none were the prayers that were said over the remains: he
+who but a short week before had been proud of his strength or condition,
+or she who in the same short space of time previous excelled in beauty and
+grace, there lay confounded in one neglected, unhonored, and putrefying
+mass. The air became impregnated with the effluvia; the houses around the
+Turkish cemeteries, which are mostly in the heart of the city, where the
+dead are interred, but some three feet beneath the surface, were soon
+deserted, their owners dead. The ever-green cypress trees under whose
+umbrageous quiet the beautiful children once played, now moaned over their
+little graves; and in fine, every one in the deserted city walked with
+measured steps, apprehensive of threatening death: awe and consternation
+filled the minds of all.
+
+The Sultan's own household was not free from the scourge. By some means it
+found access to his servants and carried off about fifty of them. Their
+bodies were cast into the Bosphorus, and the Sultan fled to another
+palace. The ministers of the Sublime Porte suffered severely in their
+families; their wives and slaves died off in numbers; and even the
+minister of foreign affairs is said to have taken it and narrowly escaped.
+Few survived when once attacked, and the chances of recovery were scarcely
+worth calculating. And yet among the Mussulmans little or no precaution
+was taken; for although by a government order all the principal offices
+were provided with fumigatory boxes, they were seldom used. The Mussulman
+Sheiks declared that the contagion came from Heaven, and could only be
+averted by Almighty power. Yet it was a well-known fact that cleanliness
+of habits went far toward preserving against the disease; and frequent
+change of apparel, with ordinary precautions, sufficed to preserve many
+who otherwise would doubtless have taken it.
+
+But I think the reader will be able, from the preceding sketch, to form
+some idea of the nature and extent of the mortality of the plague in 1837.
+While it raged, every feeling approaching to a similarity with what is
+known to denote an attack, excites apprehension. A pimple, through the
+medium of the imagination, is transformed into a horrid _bubo_; a cold or
+a simple head-ache, however trifling, are attributed to the dreaded
+malady; and even the firmest mind at such times quails under trifling
+appearances. In some cases the scene of agony closes in a few hours--even
+minutes; they fall down and almost immediately expire. Others linger for
+twenty-four or forty-eight hours, or several days elapse before death puts
+an end to their sufferings. Some again bear it in their systems for
+several days, and attend to their usual occupations: at length it appears,
+they fall ill and expire, or recover. Few account for their being
+attacked; they do not remember having touched any one suspected or
+exposed; and again, the porters, whose duty it is to convey the attacked
+to the hospitals and the corpses to their graves, escape. The mother
+attends upon her dying child, sacrifices every apprehension to her
+affection, and yet escapes, or the child brings it to its parent, who
+dies, while the innocent cause survives. No cure has yet been found for
+it; and Nature must be left to take her course. Extreme heat or cold have
+a favorable effect upon it; but the temperate climate of Constantinople,
+with the frequent dearth of water, the dust, and other impurities, tend
+greatly to its dissemination.
+
+It was therefore during this painful period that I resided in Galata;
+free, as I had hoped, from the contagion; and yet it found its way into
+our little family, accompanied by all its horrors.
+
+One morning in the latter part of the month of October, invited by the
+clearness of the air and a fresh breeze which had scarcely strength
+sufficient to ruffle the water of the harbor, I left my humble apartment
+and ascended the steep hill of Pera. The view--from the small tuft of
+graves near the Galata tower, some of which were fresh; of the surrounding
+villages and the great city itself, where, although devastation had been
+and still was being carried on with horror, there seemed to reign the most
+perfect tranquility, resembling the calm bosom of the treacherous sea,
+quiet over the lifeless bodies of its victims and the wreck of the noble
+vessels which had furrowed its surface--relieved the monotony of my
+existence. I gazed longingly upon the many ships lying before me at anchor
+in the stream, which could in a few days bear me far away from the scenes
+of death and desolation that surrounded me; or I exchanged a word with any
+passing acquaintance who ventured from Pera to his counting-house in
+Galata. A longer walk gave rise to too many sad reflections. Farther on
+was the _Petit Champ des Morts_, a small Turkish cemetery, here and there
+spotted with new-made graves, over which more than one aged female mourned
+the loss of her life's companion, or perhaps it would be one of fewer
+years, who wept the fatal destiny of her young husband, brother, sister,
+or child.
+
+After spending the best part of the day in walking about, I returned to
+the house of my residence. As usual, I found the door fastened; I knocked,
+but no one answered me. Again I knocked, and called repeatedly before my
+voice was heard. At length a low moan, and then a scream, issued from
+within. Petraki, the widow's son, opened the door, and with a pale and
+frightened countenance told me his mother had suddenly been taken very
+ill. There was no alternative. I entered her sitting-room, where in the
+company of the family I had spent many quiet hours. Now how changed! The
+mother lay upon the sofa, pale; and breathing with difficulty. Aleuk�, the
+daughter, knelt by her side on the floor, though greatly agitated herself,
+and endeavoring to calm her mother's apprehensions. Without once
+reflecting on the possible consequences, I sat down on a chair beside the
+sufferer, felt her pulse, and as well as I could, made inquiries after her
+health. Her pulse was quick, her tongue white and thickly furred, and
+extreme lassitude was shown by her dejected countenance. Uncertain as to
+the nature of her disease, and unable to offer any alleviation of her
+sufferings, I retired to my apartment. There I _did_ reflect on the danger
+which I had incurred, and the possibility of the widow having caught the
+plague.
+
+Every hour she became worse; her sufferings were intensely painful; and to
+shorten the recital of the sad scene of that night, I will only add, that
+the horrid disease showed itself on her person before midnight, and at
+break of day her spirit fled. Of course my mind now prepared for death. I
+felt confident that I also should soon be a victim to the plague. Early in
+the morning I called a passing priest and had the widow's remains conveyed
+to their last abode--I knew not where. I had no place to fly to; every
+door would be closed against me; and I retired to my apartment, feeling
+that I was stepping into my tomb while yet alive. There I was not long
+kept in suspense, for soon the plague attacked first Petraki then myself.
+When giddiness, the first symptom of the plague, seized me, and I could no
+longer stand, but fell despairingly on my bed, what were my feelings! But
+let me not recall them _now_; the mental agony which I suffered it is
+impossible to describe, and I shudder at the recollection. Aleuk� attended
+upon me and her brother with all the tenderness and care and forgetfulness
+of self which is so characteristic of the female character. I begged her
+to leave me to die alone, to place water by my side and depart, but she
+would not hear of it.
+
+The first night after his attack Petraki expired, and on the following
+morning was borne away; and I have an indistinct recollection of being
+visited on the evening of the same day by the priest and porters. They
+endeavored to prevail upon Aleuk� to desert me, saying that in a few hours
+I would cease to exist. But she constantly refused, determined she
+replied, to remain by my side until my sufferings were ended.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+For several days I was delirious. I remember I knew of nothing; nothing
+but water passed my lips. Sores broke out over my body, and those on my
+groins and arm-pits were not closed for some months. My neck however was
+free, and this no doubt saved my life. On the seventh day I regained my
+senses, and found myself in my apartment, the wasted figure of my guardian
+angel still watching over me. I remember, on perceiving in me a favorable
+change, how her countenance was lit up with joy! Oh, Friendship! how
+seldom are you found with the sincerity which I then beheld in an humble
+and uneducated girl! Just when I thought all my prospects in life were
+blighted; when I had keenly felt the unkindness of mankind, and despaired
+of ever again finding any thing in this world worth living for; when I had
+already bidden it farewell, and the other world was full in view; I found
+what alone can make life delightful even in poverty and
+misfortune--friendship and love. Soon the violence of the disease abated,
+and I was saved.
+
+I must hastily pass over my long and painful convalescence. A month
+elapsed before I could venture to go beyond doors. Aleuk� attended upon
+me, and through her economy my purse yet held out. The plague had greatly
+subsided; the month of December set in with uncommon severity of cold, and
+checked its progress. Oh! the exquisite delight with which I left my hard
+and burning bed and close apartment, the scenes of all my sufferings, for
+the first time! With a prayer of thankfulness on my lips, I crossed the
+threshold of the humble dwelling, and once more slowly mounted the steep
+hill of Pera.
+
+It was a bright, sunny, clear morning; the fresh, cool breeze from the
+Black Sea blew over me, infusing new strength and life into my shattered
+frame. The streets were again re-peopled, and business renewed. No one
+recognized me in my pale, haggard and swollen countenance; and when I
+presented myself at the door of a countryman in Pera, he drew back with an
+exclamation of surprise, as if he had beheld a spirit.
+
+My short story is told. I have comprised in a few words the tale of many
+long days of agony and suffering, both mental and corporeal. I fast
+regained my strength and vigor; the hollow furrows of my forehead and
+cheeks soon gave way to the effects of a generous diet; and I once more
+stood forth in health and full powers.
+
+But you will ask, 'And where is she who watched over you during your
+moments of suffering?--whom you called your guardian angel, and of whose
+friendship and love you spoke in such feeling terms?' I reply, that she
+sits even now at my side; her handsome and intelligent countenance reading
+in my face the varied emotions to which the tracing of these lines give
+rise. Devoted Aleuk� is my loving and much-loved wife.
+
+                                                              J. P. B.
+
+
+
+
+A SONG
+
+BY JOHN WATERS.
+
+
+Time was I thought that precious name
+  Less meet for Court than Alley;
+But now, no thrilling sound hath Fame,
+  No clarion note, like SALLY!
+
+There seems at first, within the word,
+  Some cause to smile, or rally;
+But once by her sweet glance preferr'd,
+  Ev'n Heaven itself loves SALLY!
+
+The world moves round when move her Eyes,
+  Grace o'er each step doth dally,
+The breath is lost in glad surprize;
+  There is no belle, like SALLY!
+
+Old hearts grow young, off flies the gout,
+  Time stops, his Glass to rally;
+I hardly know what I'm about--
+  When lost in thought on SALLY!
+
+Sometimes she's small, sometimes she's tall,
+  I can't tell how, vocally;
+For there's a spirit over all,
+  That beams abroad from SALLY!
+
+A spirit bright, a beam of light,
+  Ah! fear not that I rally--
+No man can Evil think in sight
+  Of this pure-hearted SALLY!
+
+And yet Time was, I thought the name
+  For Court less fit, than Alley;
+While now, no herald sound hath Fame,
+  No clarion note, but SALLY!
+
+
+
+
+REMINISCENCES OF A DARTMOOR PRISONER.
+
+NUMBER THREE.
+
+
+Under the circumstances related in my last number, it will readily be
+inferred that sleep was out of the question. The only alternative was to
+sit or lie down and meditate upon the next change which might befal us.
+There was but little disposition for merriment at such a time and place;
+yet there was one man, named John Young, but called by his companions 'Old
+John Young,' who in despite of empty stomach and aching limbs, amused
+himself and annoyed all others by singing a line of one and a verse of
+another, of all the old songs he could recollect from his earliest
+boyhood; dispensing his croaking melody with such untiring zeal as to keep
+the most weary awake had they been inclined to sleep.
+
+At break of day we began to try to move about, and gradually straighten
+ourselves, which was something of an effort, stiffened and benumbed as we
+were with remaining in our wet clothing so many hours. We had now an
+opportunity of examining our habitation. It was a building of about four
+hundred feet long, by seventy-five or eighty wide, three stories high, and
+built of stone, with massive doors and strongly-grated windows, the floors
+being of stone or cement, and perfectly fire-proof. Each floor formed one
+entire room, except being divided by five rows of posts running the whole
+length of the building, by which the prisoners slung their hammocks. The
+prisoners were divided off in 'messes' or families of six or eight, each
+occupying room sufficient to sit around one of their chests, which usually
+served as a mess-table. One row or tier of these messes were ranged next
+to the walls on each side, and two rows down the centre, back to back, as
+it were, leaving two avenues, or thoroughfares, the whole length of the
+building. The entire arrangement resembled the stalls in a stable, more
+than any thing else I can compare it to.
+
+There were seven of these prisons, all of about the same size and
+construction, one of which was not occupied. The whole was enclosed in a
+circular wall of about twenty feet high, and covering a space of from
+eight to ten acres of ground. This was divided in three parts by a wall
+similar to the outside one. The centre yard was occupied by No. 7,
+allotted to the colored prisoners, and the other two yards had three
+prisons in each. On the outside wall were platforms and sentry-boxes at
+short distances, for the guards. About fifteen feet within that wall was a
+high iron railing. In front of the main entrance was a large square, used
+for drilling soldiers and other purposes, and twice a week as a market for
+the country people; and on each side of this were the barracks and
+hospital, and in front of these were the officers' quarters. This d�p�t
+was situated upon a hill, surrounded by a vast common of many miles in
+extent, without a bush or tree to relieve the dreary waste; and from its
+elevated position it was generally shrouded by clouds, rendering it chilly
+and uncomfortable the greater part of the year.
+
+The daily allowance of food consisted of a pound of beef, a pint of soup,
+and a pound of bread to each man; that is to say, at the rate of one
+hundred pounds of raw beef to an hundred men. The meat was cut up and put
+into large boilers, with sufficient barley to thicken it for soup. This
+was boiled until the meat would leave the bone, and the barley was well
+cooked; and when ready, was served up to the different messes. By the time
+each person got his beef it was almost too small to be seen, being shrunk
+up by long boiling; and the bone being taken out, it was no larger than a
+small-sized tea-cup. The pound of bread was not much larger: it was made
+of barley, slack-baked, and very dark, though sweet. Indeed it was good
+enough, what there was of it. On Fridays the fare was varied by the same
+amount in fish and potatoes.
+
+As some require more nutriment than others, the same quantity of fare did
+not satisfy all the prisoners alike. I frequently saw many of them devour
+their day's allowance at one meal without appeasing their hunger; and
+before the next day's rations were served out, they would be almost
+frantic from starvation. Some became so exhausted that they were compelled
+to go to the hospital until they recovered strength. Those who possessed a
+little money fared somewhat better, as they could indulge in the luxury of
+bullock's liver, fried in water for the want of fat, or a hot pumgudgeon
+fried in the same material. This exquisite dish is not appreciated
+according to its merits. It commonly bears the undignified title of
+'codfish-balls;' and is well known at the present day among our eastern
+brethren, though not held in the same veneration by them as clam-chowder.
+'Dartmoor pippins,' or potatoes, were also held in high estimation with
+us.
+
+Dartmoor prison was a world in miniature, with all its jealousies,
+envyings and strife. How shall I describe the scenes enacted within its
+walls? how portray the character of its inhabitants? If I but held the pen
+of DICKENS or the pencil of MOUNT, I might hope so to bring the objects
+before the mind's eye of the reader, that they would stand forth in full
+relief, inducing him almost to imagine that he stood in their midst.
+Though many years have rolled by since those events occurred, they still
+linger in my memory like the vivid scenes of a high-wrought drama; and
+often in the 'dead waste and middle of the night' do I revisit in my
+dreams scenes which I should be sorry to survey when awake.
+
+I think it one of the greatest blessings granted by an all-wise and
+benevolent CREATOR, that He has bestowed upon man an intellectual and
+physical capacity, which enables him to pass in comparative happiness many
+a lonely hour. Many were the a�rial maps and charts laid down for our
+future journeyings through life, and plans formed, which were never to be
+realized. And perhaps all was for the best; for we are all creatures of
+circumstance. Not one in a thousand follows out his plans through life.
+Half of our existence is imaginary; and wise-acres may scoff as much as
+they please at what they term 'castle-building,' I believe all mankind
+indulge in it more or less; and it is an innocent, harmless pastime, which
+injures no one. I consider it the 'unwritten poetry,' the romance of life,
+which all feel; but many, like the dumb, strive in vain to give utterance
+to their thoughts.
+
+Many of the prisoners busied themselves in making some trifling article,
+which, while it afforded amusement, aided in obtaining for them a little
+money, and thereby added to their comfort. Many of the most ingenious
+specimens of art I ever saw were made there; some of which were models of
+vessels, of various classes, from the clipper-built brig to the
+line-of-battle ship; made too of beef bones, obtained from the cook. They
+were built up precisely like a large vessel; human hair twisted into ropes
+of suitable sizes being employed for rigging. When completed, they made a
+beautiful toy. Desks, work-boxes, etc., were also made here; violins, some
+of which were of excellent tone, were likewise constructed. But it would
+be useless to enumerate the endless variety of queer things made at this
+multifarious manufactory. Some organized a music-society, with various
+instruments, and used occasionally to give concerts; others got up a
+theatre, screening it off with bed covering. I recollect some pretty good
+performances among them. In short, all were employed in some way, to
+divert their minds from the contemplation of their miserable condition.
+Some would read while others listened; some practice fencing; some sing,
+some dance. Others would relate their adventures, many of which savored
+rather too strongly of the marvellous to be readily believed, while others
+partook in an equal degree of the ludicrous. One of these latter was
+related by 'Old John Young'--a tale of his early courtship. In his
+youthful days he lived somewhere in Pennsylvania, where also resided an
+old farmer, with his wife and two daughters, one of whom, contrary to the
+old gentleman's wishes, he used to visit. One night while there, unknown
+to the old people, they having retired, a huge pot of mush was left
+boiling over the fire, getting ready for the next day. Late in the evening
+the old gentleman called out for the girls to go to bed; and as they did
+not retire in time to suit him, he began to stir round, to see why his
+orders were not obeyed. Young, hearing him coming, took off his shoes to
+prevent a noise, and glided silently up a ladder into the loft above. The
+old farmer, having sent the girls to bed, lifted off the boiling pot,
+which by accident he placed at the foot of the ladder; then putting out
+the light, and covering the fire, he retired again to bed. When all was
+still and quiet, Young, with shoes in hand, stole down the ladder, and
+landed in the pot! Although badly burned, he escaped in some degree by
+having his stockings on. He left his tracks on the floor, but got out of
+the house unobserved. He had 'put his foot in it' in good earnest; and
+mounting his horse, he bade a final adieu to the old farmer and his
+family.
+
+Winter was now pretty well advanced, and many suffered for the want of
+clothing. After considerable delay, however, a small portion was sparingly
+dealt out, but was accepted by those only who stood in the utmost need.
+The cause was, that the agent or contractor, having a quantity of garments
+on hand, over what had been a sufficient supply for some English convicts,
+who had been confined here at some former period, they were now offered to
+us, but were rejected by all who could do without them. Those who did
+receive them, cut a curious figure! I can almost imagine one standing
+before me now, dressed in a jacket and trowsers of bright yellow cloth;
+and as they were served out indiscriminately, the consequence was, that
+large stalwart men were crammed into trowsers which looked more like
+breeches, and jackets with sleeves terminating at the elbows; and small
+men with jackets, the sleeves of which dangled far below the hands, and an
+extra length of pantaloons turned up to the knees; the whole figure
+surmounted by a knit-woollen cap, resembling an inverted wash-basin;
+coarse brogans completed the costume. Just pause a moment, reader, and
+contemplate the figure!
+
+What with starving and freezing, many became ill, and had to be removed to
+the hospital. This was what all dreaded; and the consequence was, they
+were so far gone before they went, that they survived but a short time
+after getting there, although it was understood that the physician was a
+skilful and humane man, and did all in his power to alleviate their
+distress. I was taken very ill with the dysentery. I know of no disease
+which brings a man down more rapidly. Two or three days weakened me so
+much that I could scarcely move; and with it came a despondency of mind
+that was almost insupportable. I had been for years a wayfarer in strange
+lands, but never, during the whole time, did I so forcibly feel the want
+of a home, and the solace and care of friends, as now. How did I long to
+be once more under my father's roof, with an affectionate mother and kind
+sister! I had a sad forboding that I should soon be numbered among the
+multitude whose spirits had ascended from their prison-house, and whose
+bodies were deposited outside the walls, in the ground assigned for that
+purpose.
+
+The small-pox had also appeared in our midst, spreading havoc on all
+sides; and despair seemed to rule triumphant. Of those who left for the
+hospital, but few returned to their comrades. Among those taken ill, was a
+young man who had been brought up on a farm. Like many others, he had left
+home to 'go a-privateering,' and was taken prisoner. He never saw home
+again. He messed just opposite to me, and was I think one of the most
+exquisite amateur performers on the violin that I ever heard. For hours
+have I listened with rapture to his delightful music. He was absent a day,
+and his instrument was silent. The next day I enquired for him; he had
+been taken suddenly ill, was removed to the hospital, and the second
+evening brought me tidings of his death. There was another one, who had
+been for weeks sullen and gloomy. Despair seemed to have thrown its pall
+over him. He conversed with none, but shunning his companions, spent the
+day muttering to himself. Early one morning he was discovered in a
+secluded part of the prison, cold and stiff. He had hung himself.
+
+And was there no one to look after the spiritual or temporal welfare of
+this mass of isolated beings? Was there none to soothe the troubled mind,
+to cheer the drooping spirit, nor to whisper hope in the ear of the
+desponding? Was there none of God's 'messengers of glad tidings' to offer
+consolation to the dying, and a prayer for mercy on the departing spirit
+of his suffering fellow-being? No; not one minister of the gospel, of any
+denomination, did I see while I was there; nor did I hear of any having
+been there, at any time; nor was there any person to see that the
+prisoners had suitable beds and clothing, or that their food was
+wholesome, during the many months that I was there. I was told that REUBEN
+G. BEASLY, who was appointed by our government, and who received its pay
+to see to American interests, had been there some months before, but had
+done nothing for them; and to the letters of remonstrance written to him,
+stating their wants, their insufficiency of food and clothing, etc., he
+turned a deaf ear. He did not deign a reply to them; and what more could
+be expected of a man who could be so base as to do what I will here state?
+
+About three years ago I met an old ship-mate. We went to India in the same
+ship. He held a midshipman's warrant in the United States' navy, and went
+out on this voyage for practice in seamanship. He was made prisoner at the
+same time I was. In the shiftings and changes which took place, we were
+separated; and when I saw him, several years after, he stated that after
+parting with me he remained in London, endeavoring in vain to get
+employment on board some ship; that becoming destitute, he went to Mr.
+Beasly, (_Beastly_ it should be,) to get advice and assistance, stating
+who and what he was; and that, in consequence of the unsettled mode of
+life in which he had been living, he had unfortunately lost his warrant;
+and urged him, as an act of humanity, to point out some method whereby he
+might help himself. He turned away from him with indifference, saying he
+could do nothing for him. After a lapse of several days, finding no hope
+of extricating himself from his embarrassed situation, as a last resource
+he went once more to Mr. Beasly, and asked assistance. The reply was: 'Be
+off! and if you trouble me again I will put you on board of an English
+man-of-war!' This gentleman[1] is now Lieutenant Commandant in our navy.
+He told me he had seen Mr. Beasly not long before, in his official
+capacity as consul at Havre, but did not make himself known to him. Is it
+not strange, that one who was so regardless of the duties of his office
+and the feelings of humanity should hold so lucrative and responsible a
+situation as the one which he enjoys to this day? There have been serious
+complaints made against him, within a year or two, by several respectable
+captains of vessels.
+
+    [1] STEPHEN B. WILSON, Esq.
+
+The number of prisoners on my arrival at the d�p�t I understood to amount
+to about three thousand; notwithstanding the deaths had gradually
+increased, the number was kept good by detachments sent in from time to
+time, many of them from English ships of war, who had been impressed into
+the service; and although they had frequently asked for a discharge, they
+could not get it until the European war had ended, and there was but
+little farther use for them. But they obtained their dismissal, and with
+it the pay and prize-money due to them at the time.
+
+Such occasions afforded a kind of jubilee, as the money they brought was
+soon put in circulation through the prisons, from whence it speedily
+evaporated, being spent in provisions, vegetables, and fruits, brought
+there by the country-people for sale, and for which an enormous price was
+paid. Many of the men thus delivered up, had spent several years of the
+prime of life in fighting the battles of a foreign nation, and were then
+dismissed with the most brutal treatment. As an instance: a man by the
+name of SLATER, a tall, robust man, just such an one as they like to get
+hold of, in the service where he had been several years, had made frequent
+but unavailing applications for a discharge. At length when the war broke
+out, he made more urgent solicitations for a release. The answer was,
+'Yes, you shall have it; but we will first give you something to remember
+us by.' And tying him up, they gave him three dozen lashes, and sent him
+to Dartmoor. Such was the reward of his services!
+
+
+
+
+THE SONG OF DEATH.
+
+
+  I.
+
+  Silent and swift as the flight of Time,
+  I've come from a far and shadowy clime;
+  With brow serene and a cloudless eye,
+  Like the star that shines in the midnight sky;
+  I check the sigh, and I dry the tear;
+  Mortals! why turn from my path in fear?
+
+
+  II.
+
+  The fair flower smiled on my tireless way,
+  I paused to kiss it in summer's day,
+  That when the storm in its strength swept by
+  It might not be torn from its covert nigh;
+  I bear its hues on my shining wing,
+  Its fragrance and light around me cling.
+
+
+  III.
+
+  I passed the brow that had learned to wear
+  The crown of sorrow--the silver hair;
+  Weary and faint with the woes of life,
+  The tempest-breath and fever-strife,
+  The old man welcomed the gentle friend
+  Who bade the storm and the conflict end.
+
+
+  IV.
+
+  I looked where the fountains of gladness start,
+  On the love of the pure and trusting heart;
+  On the cheek like summer roses fair,
+  And the changeful light of the waving hair;
+  Earth had no cloud for her joyous eye,
+  But I saw the shade in the future's sky.
+
+
+  V.
+
+  I saw the depths of her spirit wrung,
+  The music fled, and the harp unstrung;
+  The love intense she had treasured there,
+  Like fragrance shed on the desert air:
+  I bore her to deathless love away;
+  Oh! why do ye mourn for the young to-day?
+
+
+  VI.
+
+  I paused by the couch where the poet lay,
+  Mid fancies bright on their sparing way;
+  The tide of song in his heaving breast
+  Flowed strong and free in its deep unrest;
+  His soul was thirsting for things divine--
+  I led him far to the sacred shrine.
+
+
+  VII.
+
+  The sage looked forth on the starry sky,
+  With aspiring thoughts and visions high,
+  He sought a gift and a lore sublime
+  To raise the veil from the shores of Time,
+  To pierce the clouds o'er the soul that lie;
+  I bade him soar with a cherub's eye.
+
+
+  VIII.
+
+  And now, neath my folded wing I bear
+  A spotless soul like the lily fair;
+  The babe on its mother's bosom slept;
+  Ere I bore it far, I paused and wept;
+  'T was an angel strayed from its fairer home:
+  Peace to the mourner!--I come! I come!
+
+_Shelter-Island._                                       MARY GARDINER.
+
+
+
+
+MARY MAY: THE NEWFOUNDLAND INDIAN.
+
+BY A NEW CONTRIBUTOR.
+
+
+The tribe of aborigines to which MARY MAY, the heroine of our little
+sketch, belonged, has been named by the Newfoundlanders, 'Red Indians;'
+for what reason, I could never learn. This tribe, or probably the
+miserable remnant of it, since the English have settled the island has
+been regarded as altogether remarkable and undefinable. They have never,
+in a single instance, been induced to visit the white settler since
+British subjects have resided there. Little is known of their numbers,
+habits, or general spirit, although the most sedulous exertions have been
+made to bring about an amicable understanding and a reciprocal
+intercourse. They have chosen to remain isolated and insolated; keeping
+their history, their wisdom, and their deeds to themselves. They will hold
+no communion with others of their own race. There are the Esquimaux, very
+near their northern boundary; a people disposed to extend the rites of
+hospitality in peace, and a trading tribe; but these have no more
+knowledge of the 'Red Indian' than the white man; and they remain wrapt up
+in a historical mantle as dark as the shades of their own impenetrable
+complexion.
+
+Much, of a marvellous character, has been said about the Red Indians. The
+fishermen of the island, as a mass, believe that these poor creatures are
+semi-human. They will tell you of their having been seen one moment
+cooking their venison, and composedly regaling themselves, and the next,
+upon learning the contiguity of the white man, they would vanish from
+sight, and not a trace could be found of their departure; that they
+descend far under ground in winter, and lead a kind of fairy life; that
+they have power to change themselves into birds and fishes, and to sustain
+life for hours together under water. But all this is of course unnatural
+and absurd. The Indians of Newfoundland are flesh and blood, and partake,
+in common with other races of rational beings, of properties holding them
+within 'delegated limits of power.' And in my opinion, they are as much
+entitled to a character of consistency as the generality of tribes on our
+continent. The secret of their shyness, and their unsocial and vindictive
+disposition, may better be accounted for, from the probable fact that they
+were inhumanly treated by the early discoverers of the island, the
+Portuguese and Spaniards. These monsters without doubt butchered and made
+havock of these poor natives as they did the South American Indians, and
+indeed wherever their lawless adventures led them, in this new world.
+
+Various governors have been appointed to the Newfoundland station since
+Great-Britain has possessed the island, and all have used more than
+ordinary means to reach the Red Indians, and reconcile them to the
+pale-faces, who have taken possession of the bays and harbors of their
+bold and rugged coast. The last, of any magnitude, that was made, was
+during the summer of 1830, and immediately preceding the administration of
+Sir Thomas Cochran. It consisted of a regular exploring expedition,
+numbering about fifty persons, a part of whom were regular soldiers, and a
+part volunteer citizens, which left St. John's, the capital of the island,
+with instructions to explore the interior, and traverse every portion of
+it in quest of the Indians, and to bring some back with them; but to use
+no cruelty, unless absolutely necessary. After traversing the internal
+wilds for some ten days, the expedition discovered smoke in the distance,
+and in a few hours came upon a party of Indians in their wigwams. The red
+men were greatly surprised, and appeared much alarmed. But upon being
+presented with some showy ornaments, accompanied by smiles, and other
+friendly indications, their fears somewhat subsided, and two of them
+became apparently willing to accompany the expedition into St. John's, on
+learning by signs that two of the white men would remain as guarantees of
+their good treatment and return. The white men left were supplied with a
+large quantity of ornaments and trinkets to distribute among other Indians
+whom they might find during the absence of their party, a period which was
+not to be prolonged beyond a month. The good-bye was given, and the
+expedition started on their return home. It had not travelled many hours
+before an uncontrollable disposition seized them to go back again to the
+spot of separation to see if all was well, for some declared that they had
+a presentiment that there had already been foul play. Back they went, and
+when they reached the spot where good wishes had just been interchanged,
+the first spectacle which met their eyes was the mutilated dead bodies of
+their faithful hostages! Without any consultation, or a moment's delay,
+the commander of the expedition ordered the two Indians in their keeping
+to be shot, and their bodies left exposed, as they had found those of
+their comrades. This order was promptly executed.
+
+Soon after Sir Thomas Cochran was appointed governor of Newfoundland, he
+offered a reward of one hundred pounds for the harmless capture of a Red
+Indian, the person to be brought him at the capital. This reward was
+advertised in the summer of 1832; and the next spring a fisherman, at a
+distant, unfrequented part of the island, saw on a pleasant afternoon a
+young female Indian, laving at the edge of the water. She was alone, and
+unconscious of danger, and went through the offices of the bath with
+singular grace and activity. After watching her for some time, he took his
+measures for her capture. He first cut off her retreat, then approached
+her carefully, and at the instant of surprise, obtained possession of her
+person. She made no resistance, but acted as one paralyzed by fear or
+wonder. He brought her to Sir Thomas, and received his reward. It being
+the month of May when she was captured, she was given the name of MARY
+MAY. She was apparently about eighteen years of age; an angelic creature,
+tall, with perfect symetry of proportion, agreeable features, good
+complexion, and as agile and graceful as a fawn. The governor and the
+officers of the garrison, and the �lite of St. Johns, vied with each other
+in plans and devices for her gratification. She was taken to parties, to
+the theatre, to military reviews; in short, she was flattered, caressed,
+and made the reigning belle. But the poor Indian showed an almost blank
+indifference to the various schemes devised for her pleasure. She was not
+_at home_. Every face, every habit, every object was new, and appeared
+strange to her. She undoubtedly pined to go back again into the dark wilds
+among her own people. Perhaps her heart, that wonderful controller of
+human destiny, was in the keeping of some extolled brave: at all events,
+it was not in the scenes that were passing before her; and the efforts so
+generously put forth for her amusement and happiness were like the crystal
+droppings upon the hard insensible stone, falling in full profusion, but
+leaving no impress.
+
+Mary was detained about a year, and was then given in charge of the
+fisherman who captured her, with express directions that she should be
+taken to the spot where he found her, and there be left to her own
+guidance. She was richly clad and profusely decorated before she was given
+her liberty, and was furnished with a large quantity of finery for
+distribution among the members of her tribe. It was hoped that this
+treatment, when communicated by one of their own blood, would cause a
+change of feeling among the Red Indians, and that gradually a reciprocity
+of confidence and intercourse would be established. But this experiment
+and this hope proved futile and delusive. In 1836 I left the island of
+Newfoundland, and up to that time not a glimpse of the red race had
+flitted across the vision of civilization since the dark captive was
+permitted again to bound over hill and dale without let or hindrance. Many
+idle reports and tales were circulated about Mary May, after meeting with
+her tribe; but little reliance is placed upon them, as they are for the
+most part contradictory, and strongly savor of the marvellous. But I will
+give the reader one, which is as well authenticated as any, and quite as
+probable.
+
+On the second day after Mary was liberated, she found a portion of her
+people; and when they first saw her, they were much alarmed, judging from
+her fanciful, brilliant habiliments that she was some celestial visiter.
+But hearing their own language addressed to them, the parentage of the
+girl, and the cause of her absence, they became gradually calm, and
+curiosity took the place of fear, and this gave place to admiration, until
+the lost one was fairly constituted by acclamation a goddess, and to her
+surprise and grief, worshiped as such! The daughter's return had been
+communicated to the father, with such exaggerations and extravagances as
+pertain to the grossly superstitious; and he, instead of falling upon his
+child's neck, and receiving her as the lost found, came bowing and doing
+reverence and worship. Mary was bewildered, and almost wished herself back
+again with the pale-faces.
+
+But there was one link in the chain of her destiny yet to be proved; if
+_that_ should be found true, she had not returned in vain. About a year
+previous to her capture, on a sunny afternoon, she had strayed a mile or
+two from her father's camp, invited partly by the romance of her own
+nature, and partly by the novelty of new scenery, opened up by a change of
+camping-ground. While hesitating concerning her return, and gracefully
+leaning against a young sapling, she heard a rustling of leaves near her;
+and quickly directing her eyes to the spot whence the alarm came, she saw
+with terror a full-grown panther steadily and cautiously approaching her.
+She had no weapon of defence, and Indian though she was, had never
+participated in blood and strife. She knew that flight would be vain, for
+what human being could outrun a hungry panther? She raised one
+alarm-whoop, and awaited her fate. At the loud, piercing cry, the fierce
+animal seemed alarmed in his turn, and paused in his progress. But after
+some five minutes, he recovered his courage, and was making ready for the
+fatal spring, when an arrow pierced his heart; and the next moment a
+young, athletic brave sprang from the thicket, and clasped the dark damsel
+to his breast. She remained an instant, passive and bewildered; the next,
+she sprang from the embrace of the stranger, and with Indian dignity
+thanked him for his kind and timely aid. She then turned her face toward
+her father's camp, and with the fleetness of an antelope passed the
+intervening space, and soon found herself safe in her changing habitation.
+
+But notwithstanding the assumed dignity and apparent coldness with which
+she addressed the young stranger, Mary in that moment of rescue was
+awakened to a new and impassioned existence. The image of the stranger was
+before her by day and in her dreams by night. Six or eight months passed,
+when the chiefs of the tribe celebrated a great festival, to which all the
+members were invited. The ceremonies were to last a week; many did not
+arrive until after the first day, and the father of Mary, and his camp,
+were of this number. But toward the evening of the first day of the
+festivities, a tall, graceful young brave stalked into the assembly, and
+with cool solicitude scanned the faces of the female visiters; and not
+appearing satisfied, he folded his arms upon his breast, and leaning
+against a rude post, listlessly observed the sports. But a close observer
+would have seen his eye lit up with unwonted interest when any new arrival
+was announced. No one knew him; his dress was peculiar; still he spoke
+their language, and the old chiefs passed him by for a future examination.
+
+On the second day of the gathering, toward noon, Mary May arrived, and
+with her father, mother and sisters, entered that enclosure of merry
+hearts. She hoped to see at the festival the youth who had so strongly
+impressed her; and the moment she entered the rude structure, her eyes
+eagerly ranged round the assembly until they rested upon the person of her
+rescuer, who as eagerly returned her significant glance. During the
+continuance of the feast and frolic, the lovers had many interviews; and
+before it closed, their faith and vows were exchanged. They were to have
+been married the month after her capture; and now, since her return and
+deification, she had not learned a word about her 'brave,' and had come to
+the determination if he proved false to destroy herself. Day after day
+passed without the presence of the only one who could drive the dark cloud
+from her mind, and it was becoming every day more dense and oppressive,
+until she gave way to utter despondency, and bitterly bewailed her fate.
+One afternoon, about two months after her return, while some of her
+kindred were bowing before her in heathenish worship, hasty steps were
+heard approaching; the next moment the young brave appeared and clasped
+his lost treasure to his heart; and taking advantage of the bewilderment
+of the worshippers, occasioned by his sudden appearance, the happy pair
+escaped to the sea-coast, and passing over a portion of the bay, found a
+secure retreat among the Mickmacs, to which tribe the young brave
+belonged.
+
+And there may they rest. I sometimes, though quite infrequently, meet with
+some one from Newfoundland; and among the first questions I ask is one
+touching the 'Red Indians;' and although I have not heard any thing which
+went to confirm the hope that they may yet be brought to place confidence
+in the white man, yet I still trust that I shall; and when this result is
+brought about, or any other thing of interest shall be learned of these
+strange mortals, I shall take much pleasure in communicating the
+information, for the benefit of the readers of the KNICKERBOCKER.
+
+
+
+
+BIRTH-DAY MEDITATIONS.
+
+
+    I stand upon the wave that marks the round
+    Of Life's dark-heaving and revolving years;
+    Still sweeping onward from Youth's sunny ground,
+    Still changed and chequered with my joys and fears,
+    And colored from the past, where Thought careers,
+    Shadowing the ashes in pale Memory's urn;
+    Where perished buds were laid, with frequent tears,
+    That on the cheek of Disappointment burn,
+  As blessed hours roll on, that never may return.
+
+    What have they seen, those changed and vanish'd years?
+    Uplifted, soaring thoughts, all quelled by fate;
+    Affection, mournful in its gushing tears;
+    And midst the crowd that at the funeral wait,
+    A widowed mother's heart made desolate
+    O'er a war-honor'd Sire's low place of rest;
+    These are the tales that Memory may relate:
+    They have a moral for the aspiring breast,
+  A lesson of Decay on earthliness impress'd.
+
+    Yet Hope still chaunts unto the listening ear
+    The witching music of her treacherous song;
+    Still paints the Future eloquent and clear,
+    And sees the tide of Life roll calm along,
+    Where glittering phantoms rise, a luring throng;
+    And voiceful Fame holds out the laurel bough:
+    Where rapturous applause is loud and long,
+    Frail guerdon for the heart!--which lights the brow
+  With the ephemeral smile of Mind's triumphant glow.
+
+                                                                    C.
+
+
+
+
+THE HOUSEHOLDER.
+
+BY JOHN WATERS.
+
+    'For the kingdom of Heaven is like unto a man that is an
+    householder, which went out early in the morning to hire labourers
+    into his vineyard. And when he had agreed with the labourers for a
+    penny a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And he went out about
+    the third hour, and saw others standing in the market-place, and
+    said unto them; Go ye also into the vineyard, and whatsoever is
+    right I will give you; and they went their way. Again he went out
+    about the sixth and ninth hour, and did likewise. And about the
+    eleventh hour he went out and found others standing idle, and
+    saith unto them, Why stand ye here all the day idle? They say unto
+    him, Because no man hath hired us. He saith unto them. Go ye also
+    into the vineyard; and whatsoever is right that shall ye
+    receive.'--ST. MATTHEW: XX, 1-7.
+
+
+  O thou blest Householder! the starry dawn,
+  The light crepuscular, the roseate morn,
+    Long since had melted into day!
+  Long since the glow of Youth's THIRD hour,
+  And the bird's song, and Fancy's magic power,
+    Long since have, traceless, pass'd away!
+
+  Ent'reth the sun into its zenith height!
+  Ent'reth the mortal into manhood's might!
+    Op'neth again the vineyard Gate
+  And Labourers are call'd! but Honour's dream
+  Entranc'd my soul, and made Religion seem
+    As nought, Glory was man's Estate!
+
+  The NINTH hour found me in the market place;
+  Fierce passion ruled my heart, care mark'd my face;
+    In vain, in vain, Thy blessed call!
+  To glitter, to achieve, to lose or gain,
+  Form'd every hope, or thought, delight, or pain:
+    The world, the world, was still my All!
+
+  The TENTH hour sounded in my startled ear!
+  Thy gracious Spirit touched my heart with fear!
+    The harvest ended with the day;
+  That thought imbued my mind--'not saved? too late?'
+  I left the throng; I sought the Vineyard Gate;
+    'Twas shut-- Death-struck, I turn'd away!
+
+  Low sank the Sun adown the Western Sky!
+  Each cherish'd hope had prov'd its vanity!
+    Now neither Earth, nor Heaven was mine.
+  Rejected, sad, abandon'd, and forlorn;
+  Of God it seem'd not lov'd; of Hell, the scorn!
+    No hope, or human or Divine,
+
+  Brighten'd my dark, cold, doubting, wretched mind;
+  The world, a wilderness; Heaven's self, unkind!
+    'Blackness of darkness' seem'd my way:
+  Slow struck the ELEVENTH! Thy light around me broke!
+  And deep, unto my soul, these words were spoke:
+    'Why stand ye idle all the day?'
+
+  'Enter and work through the waning hour!'--
+  Lord of the Vineyard! grant Thy servant power
+    To labour, love Thee, and obey.
+  Let every thought, plan, word, deed, wish, be Thine!
+  Thine be all honour, glory, praise divine,
+    And let thy pardon close my day!
+
+
+
+
+THE QUOD CORRESPONDENCE.
+
+Harry Harson.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+On the day but one after Rust's death, Mr. Kornicker was very busy in his
+office. His coat was off; his hat was on a chair, and in it was his
+snuff-box, a black silk neckcloth, and a white handkerchief, not a little
+discolored by the presence of snuff and the absence of water. In one
+corner of the room lay a confused heap, consisting of bed, bedding, and
+various odds and ends of wearing apparel; and from these Mr. Kornicker,
+after due reflection and calculation as to the order in which to make his
+choice, selected article after article. First, he spread upon the floor
+his counterpane, then his blanket, then a sheet not a little akin in
+appearance to his handkerchief, and then his bed: upon these he piled his
+apparel, in a confused heap, and proceeded to roll the whole into a large
+ball, which he secured with a piece of rope. 'Now then, the moving's
+begun,' said he, opening the door and rolling the bundle into the entry.
+'The premises are ready for the next tenant.'
+
+Having brushed his knees with the palm of his hands, and then dusted his
+hands by knocking them together, he put on his neckcloth, coat, and hat;
+pocketed his snuff-box and handkerchief, walked into the entry, locked the
+door, put the key over it, as he had always been in the habit of doing;
+seated himself upon his bundle, with his back leaning against the wall;
+and immediately lapsed into a fit of deep abstraction, which he
+occasionally relieved by kicking his heels against the floor, shaking his
+head, in a sudden and emphatic manner, or inhaling his breath rapidly and
+violently, producing a sound blending the harmonious qualities of a snort
+and a whistle.
+
+'So,' said he, after indulging in one of the last mentioned performances
+with so much energy as to arouse him from his abstraction, at the same
+time nodding his head at Rust's office, '_his_ cake being dough, our
+bargain's up; and here am I, Edward Kornicker, Esquire, attorney and
+counsellor at law, a man of profound experience, severe knowledge of the
+world, of great capacity in various ways, though of small means--I think I
+may say of d----d small means--once more in the market; for sale to the
+highest bidder. Such a valuable commodity is not met with every day. If
+any gentleman,' continued he, raising his hand and looking round at an
+imaginary audience, 'is extremely desirous of securing the eminent talents
+of one of the most prominent young men of the day--not exactly new,' added
+he, running his eye over his rusty coat, 'but wonderfully serviceable; no
+cracks, nor flaws, no pieces broken off--here is an opportunity which will
+not occur again. This is only a scratch on the surface,' said he, as he
+thrust his finger into a small hole in his coat-sleeve; 'the article
+itself is warranted to be perfectly sound, and of the best quality. How
+much is bid?--how much for the promising young man aforesaid? How much?
+One thousand dollars? Five hundred? Two fifty?--one?--fifty? It wont do,'
+said he, in a melancholy tone; 'strike him down to me. The gentleman's
+bought himself in; there being no demand for the article in this market,
+he thinks of disposing of himself to some respectable widow lady with a
+small family and a large purse. He may alter his mind, but that's his
+present intention.'
+
+Here Mr. Kornicker concluded his rather extraordinary soliloquy by
+plunging his hands in his pockets, and dropping into a subdued whistle; in
+the course of which his thoughts seemed to have taken altogether a
+different channel; for it was not long before he said, as if in
+continuance of some unuttered train of thought:
+
+'Well, old fellow, I promised you to look after your girl, although you
+didn't seem much struck with the offer. But I'll stick to my promise;
+although, to tell the truth, I don't exactly know how to commence. But
+nothing will be done by sitting on this bundle. So I'll to my work at
+once.'
+
+He rose up hastily, and was descending the stairs when he abruptly turned
+back, went up to his luggage, and after eyeing it for a minute, said:
+
+'It's a hazardous business to leave you here. You can't be distrained on,
+nor levied on, because you're exempt by law. So you are safe from
+landlords and creditors; the law makes you exempt from being stolen too;
+but thieves consider themselves like members of parliament, out of the
+reach of law. There's the rub. You might be stolen; and I very much regret
+to say, that the gentleman who should lay violent hands on you would walk
+off with all my goods, chattels, lands, tenements, and hereditaments; but
+I've no where to take you, and as I expect to sleep in this entry, you
+must take your chance. So, good bye, old acquaintance, in case you and I
+should never meet again.'
+
+Having in a very grave manner shaken one corner of the counterpane, as if
+it were the hand of an old friend, he gave his head a sudden jerk, to
+settle his hat in the right place, and descended the stairs.
+
+The task which Kornicker had imposed upon himself was by no means easy;
+but firm in his purpose of fulfilling his promise, he shut his eyes to all
+difficulties, and commenced his pursuit.
+
+The first place to which he went was the prison, for he hoped that the
+keeper of it might know something about her, or that she might have left
+her address there, in case her father wished to see her when he was
+imprisoned. But he was disappointed. They could tell him nothing, except
+that Rust neither asked for her, nor mentioned her, and had always refused
+to see her. She had never succeeded in gaining admittance to him, except
+on the night of his death, when the jailer, a fellow unfit for his office,
+for he had some human feeling left, unable to resist her tears and
+entreaties, had let her in unannounced, as mentioned in the last chapter.
+She had left the cell abruptly, had hurried off, and had never returned.
+'God help the poor child!' exclaimed the man, as he told the story. 'Such
+hearts as hers were made for heaven, not for this world. I have a daughter
+of her age; and even if she had robbed a church, I couldn't have treated
+her as that man treated his child.'
+
+The man looked at Kornicker, as if to observe the effect of his last
+remark; but probably that gentleman viewed the robbing of a church in a
+less heinous light than the jailer, for he made no comment on it, but
+after a pause said:
+
+'So that's all you know?'
+
+The man nodded.
+
+'Good morning to you, Sir,' said Kornicker; and he walked straight out of
+the building, and had crossed several streets before he had made up his
+mind what to do next. This however was soon settled, and he buttoned his
+coat tightly, pulled his hat firmly on his head, drew on a pair of shabby
+gloves, and performed a number of those little acts which in ancient times
+were known under the head of 'girding up the loins,' preparatory to
+setting out to his next point of destination, which was the girl's former
+home, the place where Rust had committed the murder. It was many miles
+off; and the distance which Rust, under the whip and spur of fierce
+passions, had traversed without trace of fatigue, drew from his clerk many
+a sigh, and many an expression of weariness.
+
+When he got there he found the house deserted. He entered it, for there
+was no one there to hinder it, but the rooms were empty and dismantled.
+The house had been hired by Rust, and no sooner was he in the gripe of the
+law, than creditors innumerable, who like birds of prey were biding their
+time, kept in check by the unbending character of their debtor, came
+flitting in from every quarter; seized and sold the furniture, and left
+the house desolate. A single dark stain upon the library floor, where the
+murdered man had fallen, was all that was left to tell a tale of the past.
+The dust had gathered thickly on the walls, as if preparing to commence a
+slumber of years; and as Kornicker went out, the rats raced through the
+hall, startled at the tread of a stranger.
+
+With a heart as heavy as his limbs, as he thought of the past life of the
+girl who had once tenanted this house, and then fancied what her present
+fate must be, Kornicker set out on his return. 'If it had been me,' said
+he, pausing to take a last look at the lonely house, 'if it had only been
+Edward Kornicker who was thus cast adrift, to kick his way through the
+world with empty pockets, and without a soul to say to him God speed, or
+'I'm sorry for you,' it would have been right and proper, and no one would
+have any cause to grumble or find fault; but this being a girl, with no
+money, and consequently with no friends, no experience, as _I_ have, it's
+a very hard case--a very hard case, indeed.'
+
+Having arrived at this conclusion, Kornicker took off his hat, wiped his
+forehead, snuffed, and set out on his return.
+
+Day after day for several weeks he prosecuted his inquiries without
+success; and just when he was in despair, chance led him to success. In
+the course of his rambles, he encountered a person who had been at Rust's
+trial, and happened to speak about him; for now that the criminal was dead
+and in his grave, when public opinion could be of no service to him, many
+who had hunted him down began to view less harshly the crime which had led
+to his death; and this man was one of the number. He said that, although
+he deserved punishment for his previous evil deeds, yet the best and
+purest act of his life had been that by which he had struck down the
+destroyer of his child.
+
+'Poor thing!' said he, 'she must have led a miserable life since her
+father's death. I have met her several times since then in the street, but
+that was several weeks ago; and then she was very feeble, scarcely able to
+walk: perhaps she's dead now.'
+
+Kornicker waited only long enough to ascertain that she lived in a certain
+out-of-the-way part of the town, which the man designated, and thither he
+directed his steps, and resumed his search; and after several days spent
+in fruitless inquiries, he discovered her.
+
+The house in which he found her was a small ruinous building, sagged and
+jutting forward, as if struggling to sustain itself against time and
+dilapidation. The windows were broken; the doors and shutters unhung,
+except a solitary one of the latter, which creaked as it flapped to and
+fro in the wind; and this was the home of Rust's child.
+
+Kornicker ascended the ricketty stairs and paused at the door of a room,
+which a slipshod woman had pointed out as that of the 'murderer's
+daughter.' He knocked, but there was no reply; he knocked again, but all
+was silent. Then he opened the door and looked in.
+
+It was a small dingy room, unfurnished, with the exception of a bed on the
+floor, and a single chair, on which stood a candle whose flaring light
+served only to add to the gloom of the room by revealing its wretchedness.
+The girl was in bed; her hair lying in tangled masses about the pillow.
+Her cheeks were sunken and colorless, and her eyes deep-set and glowing,
+as if all that was left of life was concentrated in them.
+
+Kornicker hesitated for a moment, and then pushed the door open and walked
+in. The girl looked listlessly up, but did not notice him; for she turned
+her head away with a weary, restless motion, and did not speak. Kornicker
+went to the bed, got on his knees beside it, and took her hand in his. As
+he did so he observed that it was very thin and shrunken, and that the
+large veins stood out like cords. It was hot as fire. 'You're very ill,'
+said he, in a low tone. 'I'm afraid you're very ill.'
+
+'I'm dying of thirst,' said the girl, pointing to an empty pitcher, which
+stood on the floor. 'Give me water; the want of it is driving me mad. No
+one has been near me to-day. I tried to get it myself, but could not
+stand.'
+
+Kornicker waited to hear no more, but seizing the pitcher, darted out to a
+pump, and in a very few minutes came back again with it filled to the
+brim. The girl's eye grew even more lustrous than before, as she saw it,
+and she attempted to rise, but was unable.
+
+'You must excuse ceremony,' said Kornicker, as he placed his arm under her
+back and supported her while he held the pitcher to her lips. 'Nursing
+isn't in my line.'
+
+The girl swallowed the water greedily, and then sank back on the pillow
+exhausted.
+
+'Have you a doctor?' inquired Kornicker, placing the pitcher on the floor.
+
+'No,' answered she feebly; 'I have no money: the last went yesterday. I'm
+deserted by all now.'
+
+'Not quite,' exclaimed Kornicker, slapping his hand earnestly on his knee,
+while he experienced a choking sensation about the throat; 'not while I'm
+left. I'm sorry I a'nt a woman, for your sake; but as I don't happen to
+be, I hope you'll make no objections on that score; I'll look after you as
+if you were my own sister.'
+
+It was the first word of kindness that the girl had heard for a long time,
+and the tears came in her eyes.
+
+'There, there, don't cry,' said Kornicker. 'It bothers me; I don't know
+what to do when women cry. But you haven't a doctor; that will never do.
+Keep up your heart,' said he, rising; 'I'll return presently.' Saying
+this, and without waiting for a reply, he left the room.
+
+Arriving in the street, his first impulse was not only to feel in his
+pockets, but with the utmost care to turn them inside out, and to examine
+them narrowly.
+
+'Not a copper--pockets to let!' said he, restoring them to their former
+condition, after a long and unsuccessful search. 'But this girl must be
+looked after; that's settled. Now then,' said he, in a very meditative
+mood, 'who's able to do it and _will_?'
+
+This seemed a question not easily answered, for he stood for more than a
+minute in profound thought, in endeavoring to solve it; but apparently
+making up his mind, he hurried along the street. The direction which he
+took was toward the upper part of the city, and he was some time in
+reaching his destination, which was no other than Harry Harson's house. He
+crossed the court-yard and knocked at the door, which was opened by
+Harson.
+
+'I want a word with you,' said Kornicker, abruptly.
+
+Harson told him to come in; led the way to his sitting-room, and pointing
+to a chair, told him to be seated.
+
+'I haven't time,' said Kornicker, shaking his head. 'Do you know me?'
+
+'I've seen you, but I can't recollect where.'
+
+'_Here_,' said Kornicker, 'here, in this room. I breakfasted here. I'm
+Michael Rust's clerk.'
+
+'Then you can scarcely expect a cordial reception from _me_,' said Harson,
+coldly.
+
+'I don't care what sort of a reception you give _me_,' replied Kornicker;
+'you may kick me if it will be any comfort to you, provided you only do
+what I ask. Michael Rust is dead, and his daughter is now dying, with
+scarcely clothes to cover her, or a bed to lie in; without a cent to buy
+her food or medicine; without a soul to say a single word of comfort to
+her. I wouldn't have troubled you, old fellow,' continued he, with some
+warmth, at the same time turning out his pockets, 'if I had a cent to give
+her. The last I had I spent in getting a breakfast this morning; and
+although it's the only meal I've eaten to day, damme if I would have
+touched it if I had thought to have found her in such circumstances. But
+since you won't help her, you may let it alone; I'm not so hard run but
+that I can do something for her yet.'
+
+Kornicker had worked himself up into such an excitement, owing to Harson's
+cold reception of him, that he took it for granted his request was to be
+refused; and having thus vented his feelings he turned on his heel to go,
+when the old man laid his hand on his shoulder.
+
+'Nature puts noble hearts in very rough cases,' said Harson, his eyes
+glistening as he spoke. 'You're a good fellow, but rather hasty. I didn't
+say I would not assist the poor girl; on the contrary, you shall see that
+I will. She has no doctor?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'No nurse?'
+
+'No.'
+
+Harson rang the bell. The house-keeper answered it.
+
+'Martha, put on your things,' said Harson; 'I want you to sit up with a
+sick person to-night. Bring a basket, and lights, and cups, and every
+thing that's necessary for one who has nothing. I'll return in five
+minutes; you must be ready by that time. Now then, Sir, come along; you
+shall see what I'll do next.'
+
+He went into the street, and walked rapidly on, turning one or two
+corners, but without going far, and at last knocked at the door of a small
+house.
+
+'A very excellent fellow lives here,' said he to Kornicker; 'he's a
+doctor; and if this girl can be saved he'll do it. Hark! there he comes. I
+hear his step.'
+
+The door was opened by the doctor himself, and a few words sufficed to
+explain matters to him.
+
+'I'll be ready in a minute,' said he, darting in the room and as suddenly
+returning, struggling his way into the arms of a great-coat. 'Now then,'
+exclaimed he, buttoning a single button, and dashing into the street,
+'which way?'
+
+'Where does she live?' asked Harson. 'I'll go back and bring the nurse.'
+
+Kornicker told him, and was hurrying off, when Harson touched his arm, and
+leading him a few steps aside, said in a low voice: 'You seem somewhat
+straitened for money, Mr. Kornicker; I wish you would accept a loan from
+me.' He extended a bank-note to him.
+
+Kornicker buttoned his pockets up very closely, not omitting a single
+button, and then replied coldly: 'I ask charity for others, not for
+myself.'
+
+'Come, come,' said Harson, kindly, 'you mustn't bear malice. I did not act
+well toward you at first; you must forget it; and to show that you do so,
+you must take this loan from me.'
+
+'I don't wish to borrow,' replied Kornicker.
+
+'Well, I'm sorry for it,' said Harson, taking his hand; 'but you're not
+angry?'
+
+'No no, old fellow; it's not an easy matter to keep angry with you; you're
+a trump!'
+
+'Perhaps you'll sup with me when we return?' said the old man, earnestly.
+
+'I'll see how the girl is,' replied Kornicker; 'good bye. We're losing
+time.'
+
+Saying this, he shook hands with Harson, and joining the doctor, they set
+out at a rapid pace for the girl's abode.
+
+They reached it without interruption, other than a short delay on the part
+of the doctor, who being of a belligerent disposition, was desirous of
+stopping to flog a man who had intentionally jostled him off the sidewalk.
+Kornicker, however, by urging upon him the situation of the girl, had
+induced him to postpone his purpose, not a little to the relief of the
+offender, who in insulting him had only intended to insult an inoffensive
+elderly person, who could not resent the affront.
+
+'Can it be possible that any thing human tenants such a den as this?' said
+the doctor, looking at the half-hung door of the girl's abode, and
+listening to the wind as it sighed through broken window-panes and along
+the entry.
+
+'Come on, and you'll see,' replied Kornicker; and seizing him by the arm,
+he led him half stumbling up the stairs, and finally paused at the girl's
+room.
+
+'Look in there, if you want to see comfort,' said he, with an irony that
+seemed almost savage, from the laugh which accompanied it. 'Isn't that a
+sweet death-chamber for one who all her life has had every thing that
+money could buy?'
+
+The doctor glanced in the room, then at the fierce, excited face of his
+companion. 'Come, come,' said he, in a kind tone, taking Kornicker's hand;
+'don't give way to these feelings. She'll be well taken care of now. Harry
+Harson never does a good action by halves. Come in.'
+
+He pushed the door open very gently, and went to the bed. The girl seemed
+sleeping, for she did not move. He took the candle, and held it so that
+the light fell on her face. He then placed his hand gently upon her wrist.
+He kept it there for some moments, then held up the light again, and
+looked at her face; after which he placed it on the floor, rose up, and
+took a long survey of the room.
+
+'It's a wretched place,' said he, speaking in a whisper. 'She must have
+suffered terribly here.'
+
+'This is the way the poor live,' said Kornicker, in a low, bitter tone;
+'this is the way _she_ has lived; but we'll save her from dying so.'
+
+The doctor looked at him, and then turned away and bit his lip:
+
+'What are you going to do for her?' demanded Kornicker, after a pause:
+'have you medicine with you?'
+
+'She requires nothing now,' said the doctor, in a tone scarcely above a
+whisper. 'She's dead!'
+
+Kornicker hastily took the light, and bent over her. He remained thus for
+a long time; and when he rose, his eyes were filled with tears.
+
+'I'm sorry I left her,' said he, in a vain effort to speak in his usual
+tones. 'It was very hard that she should die alone. I acted for the best;
+but d--n it, I'm always wrong!'
+
+He dashed his fist across his face, walked to the window and looked out.
+
+At that moment the door opened, and Harson entered, his face somewhat
+attempered in its joyous expression; and close behind followed the
+house-keeper with a large basket.
+
+'How is she?' asked he, in a subdued tone.
+
+Kornicker made no reply, but looked resolutely out of the window, and
+snuffed profusely. It would not have been manly to show that the large
+tears were coursing down his cheeks. Harson threw an inquiring glance at
+the doctor, who answered by a shake of the head: 'She was dead when we got
+here.'
+
+Harson went to the bed, and put back the long tresses from her face. There
+was much in that face to sadden the old man's heart. Had it been that of
+an old person, of one who had lived out her time, and had been gathered
+in, in due season, he would have thought less of it; but it was sad indeed
+to see one in the first blush of youth, scarcely more than a child,
+stricken down and dying in such a place, and so desolate.
+
+'Was there no one with her--not a soul?' inquired Harson, earnestly, as he
+rose; 'not one human being, to breathe a word of comfort in her ear, or to
+whisper a kind word to cheer her on her long journey?'
+
+The doctor shook his head: 'No one.' Harson's lips quivered, but he
+pressed them tightly together, and turning to Kornicker said:
+
+'Come, my good fellow, you must struggle against your feelings; you must
+not be downcast about it. She's better off than if she had lived--much
+better off.'
+
+'I'm not in the least downcast,' replied Kornicker, in a very resolute
+manner; 'I don't care a straw about it. She was nothing to me; only it's a
+little disagreeable to be living in this world without a soul to care for,
+or a soul that cares for you; and then there was some satisfaction in
+being of use to some one, and in feeling it was your duty to see that no
+one imposed on her, or ill treated her; but no matter; it's all over now.
+I suppose it's all right; and I feel quite cheerful, I assure you. But
+you'll look to her, will you? I can be of no farther use here, and I'd
+rather go.'
+
+'I will,' said Harson.
+
+'You won't let her be buried as a pauper, I hope?'
+
+'No, upon my honor she shall not,' replied Harry.
+
+'Very well--good night.'
+
+Harson followed him down the stairs, and again endeavored to force a sum
+of money upon him; but Kornicker was resolute in his refusal, nor could he
+be induced to go home with Harson that evening. He said that he was not
+hungry.
+
+After several ineffectual efforts, the old man permitted him to depart,
+with the internal resolution of keeping his eye on him, and of giving him
+a helping hand in the world; a resolution which we may as well mention
+that he carried out; so that in a few years Mr. Kornicker became a very
+vivacious gentleman, of independent property, who frequented a small
+ale-house in a retired corner of the city, where he snuffed prodigally,
+and became a perfect oracle, and of much reputed knowledge, from the
+sagacious manner in which he shook his head and winked on all subjects.
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.
+
+It was a clear, cloudless night without, and the stars twinkled and
+glistened as if the sky were full of bright eyes, looking gladly down upon
+the world, and taking a share in all its gayety and happiness. There was
+no moon, or rather the moon was a reveller, and kept late hours, and might
+be detected sneaking through the sky at about one or two in the morning,
+when she should have been a-bed; and in consequence of her neglect of duty
+the streets were dark, except where here and there the shop windows threw
+out bright streams of light, revealing now a wrinkled brow, now a fat,
+jolly face, and now a pair of bright sparkling eyes, glowing cheeks, and
+lips like a rose-bud, as the throng of people flitted past them; for an
+instant clear, distinct, with face, feature, and form plainly visible, and
+then lost in the darkness. Some paused to look in the windows, some to
+chat; and it might have been observed, that those who lingered longest in
+the light, were young, and such whose faces could bear both the test of
+light and scrutiny. But amid that crowd was a single man, who followed the
+same course as the rest; skulking in the dark corners, darting rapidly
+across the streams of light, with his head bent down and his hat slouched,
+as if he desired to avoid notice. When he reached those places which were
+comparatively less thronged, he paused and leaned against the iron
+railings of the houses, and more than once turned and retraced his steps,
+as if he had changed or mistaken his route. He was, as far as could be
+judged from the sudden and uncertain glimpses afforded of his person, tall
+and gaunt, with sunken eyes, long unshorn beard, and a face disfigured by
+a deep gash. He had the appearance of one broken down by ill health or
+suffering, and his panting breath, as he stopped, showed that he was
+taxing his strength by the pace at which he went. Although he paused
+often, and often turned back, yet in the end he resumed his journey, and
+finally reached the upper part of the city. There he struck into a dark
+cross-street. Once free from the crowd, and where few could observe him,
+his smothered feelings broke out; and muttering to himself, grating his
+teeth, blaspheming, now striking his clenched fists as if aiming a blow,
+he darted on. He did not pause until he came to the house of no less a
+person than Harry Harson. He crossed the door-yard hastily, as if he
+feared his resolution might give way; opened the front door, for Harry had
+no enemies, and his door was unbolted, and entered the outer room. The
+door communicating with the inner room was open, so that he could see
+within; and perhaps never was there a greater contrast than between the
+occupants of those two rooms. In one was a man eaten up by fierce
+passions, desperate and hardened, with all that is noble in the human soul
+burnt out as with a hot iron; in the other sat an old man whose benevolent
+features beamed with good will to all mankind. There was scarcely a
+wrinkle in the broad full brow; the hair was sprinkled with gray; but what
+of that? His eye was bright; his mouth teemed with good nature; and his
+heart--God bless thee, old Harry Harson! what need to speak of thy heart?
+
+The intruder had come in so noiselessly, although his motions were rapid
+and bold, that Harson had not heard him, but sat reading a newspaper, and
+was not a little startled in looking over it to see a man seated within a
+few feet of him, and gazing at him with eyes as wild and bright as those
+of a maniac.
+
+'Who are you, in the name of heaven?' ejaculated he, too surprised even to
+rise, and looking at the stranger as if he still doubted the reality of
+his being in that spot.
+
+The man laughed, savagely: 'Look at me, my master; look at me _well_;
+you've seen me afore. Try and recollect it.'
+
+Harson's embarrassment was not of long duration, and he examined the man
+from head to foot. A vague recollection of having met him somewhere,
+mingled with an indefinable feeling of suspicion and pain, crossed
+Harson's mind as he studied the sunken features which were submitted
+unshrinkingly to his scrutiny. He thought, and pondered, and wondered; and
+still the man remained unmoved. He looked again; the man changed his
+position, and the light fell upon him from another direction. Harson knew
+him at once. He started up: 'Murderer, I know you!'
+
+The man was on his feet at the same moment.
+
+'Down to your seat, Sir!' said he, in a loud, savage tone. 'You're right;
+but you cannot take me alive, nor will mortal man. In that room,' said he,
+in a low tone, and pointing toward the dark stair-case which led to the
+upper part of the house, 'I killed Tim Craig--the only man that ever loved
+me. He's been after me ever since!' He leaned his face toward Harson, and
+looking stealthily over his shoulder said in a whisper: 'He's waiting for
+me at the door. He sat down on the stoop when I came in. I don't know why
+I came here, but _he_ made me do it, and I must see where I killed him. It
+wasn't me. It was Rust; it was Rust. Hark!' He cast a hasty glance in the
+room behind him. 'I'm going, Tim, I'm going,' said he. 'Quick! quick! give
+me the light!'
+
+Seizing the candle, before Harson could prevent him, he rushed out of the
+room, and sprang up the stairs two at a time. Harson followed; but before
+he reached the door of the upper room, with a yell so loud and unearthly
+that it made the old man's heart stand still, the murderer darted out; his
+face livid; his hair bristling, his eyes starting with horror. With a
+single bound he cleared the stairs; crossed the antechamber, the gate
+swung heavily to, and he was gone! And this was the last that was ever
+known of Bill Jones. A few months afterward, the body of a man was found
+floating in one of the docks, and was supposed to be his; but it was so
+mutilated and disfigured, that it was impossible to ascertain the fact
+with any certainty, and it was deposited in the earth with none to claim
+it or care for it, and with no mark to designate that the soil above it
+shrouded a heart which had once throbbed with all the hopes and fears and
+passions that were burning in the bosoms of those who were carelessly
+loitering above its resting place.
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTY.
+
+Ned Somers had followed Harson's advice in not making his visits to
+Rhoneland's too frequent. But whatever may have passed between him and
+Kate, and even if they did occasionally meet in the street and stop to
+speak, and sometimes to hold conversations which were neither short nor
+uninteresting to themselves, that is a matter between themselves with
+which we have nothing to do. Certain it is, however, that as Ned cooled
+off in his intimacy with Rhoneland, he appeared to rise in the old man's
+estimation; and he grew more cordial when they _did_ meet. It may have
+been that the suspicions implanted by Rust were gradually giving way
+before the frank, honest nature of the young man; or it may have been that
+gratitude for the assistance which Somers had lent, (and which Harson was
+very particular to give its full weight) in disentangling him from the
+toils of Rust; or it may have been the secret influence of Harson, who
+ventured, whenever it could be done, to speak a good word for Ned; or it
+may have been the drooping face of his child, which he was wont more than
+ever to study anxiously, that gradually softened his feelings; but there
+is no doubt that, to Kate's surprise, he one day told her to get him pen,
+ink and paper, and to draw the table in front of him, as he was going to
+write a letter. And it must be confessed, that Kate's color heightened,
+and her heart beat fast when he had finished the letter, directed it to
+Mr. Edward Somers, and then asked if she knew the address of Somers, which
+of course she did; although she hesitated and stammered as if it were a
+profound secret, and the answer the most difficult thing in the world.
+
+But her surprise was scarcely greater than that of Ned himself, when a boy
+came to him with a letter which ran thus:
+
+    'MY DEAR EDWARD: Come to me as soon as you can; I wish to see
+    you on a matter of much importance to both of us.
+
+                               Yours truly,
+                                                 JACOB RHONELAND.'
+
+Ned felt something bouncing about in a very queer manner directly under
+his ribs, as he read this note; but the sensation was not so painful as to
+prevent his obeying it with a speed that was perfectly marvellous; for to
+Rhoneland it seemed that the letter could scarcely have reached its
+destination before Ned was back with it in his hand.
+
+'You got my note,' said he gravely, as Somers entered, his face flushed
+with the rapidity with which he had come.
+
+'I have.'
+
+'Don't go, Kate,' said he to his daughter, who with an inkling of what was
+to follow, was stealing away. 'What I have to say relates to both of you.'
+
+'Some time since,' said he, rising, and standing in front of Ned, 'I
+wronged you, by making charges against you which I am now convinced were
+false. My mind was poisoned by one who has gone to his long account, and
+whose evil deeds may sleep with him. For this,' said he, extending his
+hand, 'I ask your pardon; much more frankly and freely than I did on the
+day when we met at Mr. Harson's.'
+
+Ned took the proffered hand; at the same time pouring out a confusion of
+words, the sum and substance of which was intended to be, that he had
+taken no offence; that he knew Jacob was misled by others; that he was not
+only perfectly willing, but very happy, to make up the matter, and say no
+more about it; which no doubt was very true, for within six feet of him
+stood Kate, with her soft eyes fixed on his face, and her little mouth
+dimpled with smiles, as she observed how swimmingly matters were going on.
+And could he be crusty and dogged? or could he cherish a grudge against
+_her_ father? The thing was impossible. The extended hand was grasped, and
+grasped warmly.
+
+'Another thing I have to speak of,' said Rhoneland, relaxing somewhat at
+the cordial tone of Ned's feelings. 'It is but a short time since I learnt
+the full extent of my obligations to you, for the part you took in
+unmasking the character of Rust, and in obtaining from him a disavowal of
+charges against me, which, false as they were, were hard indeed to bear,
+and were breaking me down. I have not finished,' said he, raising his hand
+to prevent the interruption which Somers was endeavoring to make; 'let me
+complete what I have to say, and you may speak as much as you like,
+afterward. I will not thank you, for thanks are but words, and too often
+mean nothing. Is there any thing that I can _do_, to lessen my
+indebtedness to you?--or is there any way in which I can pay it off
+altogether?'
+
+He stopped, and looked earnestly in Ned's face. The red blood dashed up to
+Somers' very forehead, and he could scarcely breathe for the thumping of
+his heart, as the idea crossed him that now was the time to ask for Kate;
+nor was his agitation at all diminished by casting a glance at her, and
+seeing her cheeks crimson and her eyes downcast, as if she anticipated
+what was going on in his mind. It must be confessed, however, that had
+Rhoneland had no other clue to his wishes than that afforded by his words,
+he would have been very much in the dark; for although Ned attempted to
+speak out boldly, his lips trembled very much, and his voice was not as
+obedient as he could wish; and all that was distinctly audible was the
+girl's name.
+
+'Why lad, what ails thee?' asked Rhoneland, unbending, as he observed the
+embarrassment of his guest. 'You used to be as bold as a lion. Come here
+Kate,' said he to his daughter; 'this young fellow has lost his voice; can
+_you_ tell me what he wants?'
+
+It was now Kate's turn to grow confused, and the color to deepen on her
+cheek; nor did she utter a word.
+
+'Young man,' continued Rhoneland, in a grave tone, 'I did not send for you
+to trifle with your feelings. You love my daughter, and would ask for
+_her_, and you fear to do so lest the request should be refused. She is
+yours. Treat her kindly, and keep even a shadow of sorrow from falling
+upon her brow. If you do not, an old man's curse will rest upon you; and
+even though I be dead, and mouldering in my grave, where my voice cannot
+reach you, that silent curse will follow you.' He turned abruptly away,
+and left the room.
+
+Ned Somers took Kate's hand in his; passed his arm about her waist, and
+drew her to him in so singular a manner, that their lips could not but
+meet; and not only once, but at least some half-a-dozen times.
+
+'So you're mine at last, Kate!' said he, looking into her very eyes,
+whenever they were raised enough for him to do so. 'Did I not tell you to
+cheer up; and that all would be well? Did I not say so; and wasn't I
+right? And now, Kate,' said he, in a less confident tone, 'your father,
+though a most worthy old gentleman, is somewhat whimsical, and might
+change his mind; so when shall _it_ be?'
+
+Kate's reply was so very low, that it reached no ears except those of Ned;
+but whatever it was, it is certain that on that day month they had been
+married a week, and were deep in preparations for a merry-making to be
+held on that very evening at Rhoneland's old house, which had been so
+furbished up and renovated, under the auspices of the young couple, that
+every thing in it seemed to shine again. A party at Jacob Rhoneland's! It
+was a thing unheard of, and produced quite a sensation in the drowsy part
+of the town where he lived. Never had a household been in such a fluster
+as his was. What deep consultations were held to prevent the old man--who
+seemed to have grown quite cheerful and light-hearted, and chirruped about
+the house like some gay old old cricket--from meddling in every thing, and
+to throw dust in his eyes, so as to make him suppose that he was having
+every thing in his own way, when in fact he was having nothing. And then
+what a time it took, and what entreaties, to prevail on him to let the
+great wooden chest, studded with brass nails, which he never took his eye
+from, be removed to an upper-chamber, to make room for their guests. But
+Harry Harson, who was in the thick of all the doings, in and out a dozen
+times in an hour; rubbing his hands and enjoying the bustle, giving
+advice, suggesting this thing and that, and setting every thing wrong;
+managed to get the great chest out of the way, for he dragged it up stairs
+under Rhoneland's very nose, and in the teeth of his remonstrances; and
+depositing it in a little out-of-the-way room, very difficult of access,
+by reason of the angles and turns in the entry, and the size of the chest,
+told Rhoneland that if he wanted it below he might take it there himself;
+but that it was better where it was, and much more safe and out of the
+way; in which opinion Rhoneland finally coincided.
+
+Betimes Kate came down stairs to receive her guests, looking so
+charmingly, and her eyes flashing with such malicious brightness, that on
+meeting her in the entry Ned stopped to kiss her, and tell her that she
+was looking 'gloriously;' a performance and observation by the way, which
+he had already repeated half-a-dozen times in the course of the last hour.
+By twos and threes the guests began to arrive, and went up stairs. There
+was a great clatter above, where they were taking off their things. It
+took a wonderful time to remove the hats and shawls; for although for a
+long time up they went, none came down. There must have been thirty
+assembled above stairs. At last Harry Harson, who was in the room with Ned
+and Kate, dressed in his best black suit, and looking as young and merry
+as any of them, vowed that he would not stand it, and sallied up stairs
+and sent them down in a drove. How bright and cheerful they all were! how
+the congratulations poured in upon Ned and Kate; and hopes for his future
+happiness, and that he might have a large fortune, and a large family to
+help him take care of it.
+
+A loud scraping and jingling announced that the music was there, and put a
+stop to such flummery as conversation. The young folks were going into the
+business of the evening. The little stunted black fiddler with rings in
+his ears, was mounted on one chair; the big, fat fiddler, who fiddled with
+his eyes shut, was seated on another; and the goggle-eyed negro, with a
+self-satisfied face, who simpered on every body, and flourished the
+tambourine, was placed like an umbrella in the corner, to be out of the
+way.
+
+The fat fiddler called out for the gentlemen to choose their partners for
+a quadrille. Then came the long premonitory screeching of the fiddle-bow
+across the cat-gut; then the slight, tremulous jingle of the tambourine,
+as if the goggle-eyed negro were dying to begin; then the bustling and
+hustling, and squeezing of the couples, until they had obtained their
+places in the dance. Then the scientific look of the fat fiddler, as he
+opened his eyes and surveyed the whole, to see that all was right; then
+the slight clearing of his throat, as he threw his head on one side,
+bellowed out 'right and left,' and forthwith plunged into the matter,
+might and main. Away he went, but fast and furious at his heels followed
+the little stunted fiddler; and loud above the din of both, rose the
+rattle of the tambourine. 'Right hand across! forward two; balancez;
+ladies chain; forward four; dos-�-dos; chassez to the right; cross over;
+all round;' here, there, every where, and all over--he was up to it all.
+In vain the dancers fairly flew; the fat fiddler was equal to all
+emergencies; he never lagged; he was sometimes too fast, but never--no,
+not for a single instant--was he behind.
+
+'Whew!' said he, as he gave the final flourish of his bow, and laying it
+aside, wiped his forehead on his coat-sleeve, and called for a tumbler of
+cold water. And thereupon the stunted fiddler and the tambourine made the
+same request; the latter suggesting that his glass might be tempered with
+a 'small spirt of gin,' without hurting his feelings.
+
+In that dance, the lightest step and merriest voice was that of Harson,
+who led out the bride, and footed it there with the best of them; and who
+through the whole evening was bustling around the room, with a kind word
+for every one, and as much at home as if the house, and the company, and
+even the bride, belonged to him. And in fact, one or two of the
+guests--but they were unsophisticated people from the country--were for
+some time under the delusion that Harry was the bridegroom, instead of the
+quiet young fellow who was seen walking about the rooms, talking to the
+disagreeable old women, and getting partners for the ugly young ones,
+without their knowing it; but all in such an unobtrusive manner that he
+seemed quite a nobody when compared with Harson.
+
+But there must be an end even to the merriest meetings; and when they had
+kept it up until the night had got among the small hours, they began to
+drop off. And here, amid the adieus of departing guests, we will take our
+leave of the young couple; for it is far pleasanter to bid farewell to
+those whose friendship we have cherished when hope is strong and bright,
+than when care or disappointment has flung its shadow over their hearts.
+
+
+CHAPTER THE LAST.
+
+A few weeks had elapsed, and a small group were gathered one evening at
+Harson's fireside. It was composed of three persons beside Harson. The
+first was a man of about fifty; he might have been younger; and the heavy
+wrinkles which were scored across his forehead may have been the fruit of
+trouble and care, for they were almost too deep for his years; his mouth
+was firmly compressed, like that of one in the habit of mastering strong
+feelings; and the whole character of his face would have been stern, but
+for his dark, gray eye, which at times brightened up almost to childish
+playfulness. This was Mr. Colton, the father of Harson's proteg�, Annie.
+The child herself was seated on Harson's knee, sound asleep, with her head
+resting on his breast. The only other person in the group was the wife of
+Mr. Colton. She was quite young, and had once possessed great beauty--the
+beauty of youth and happiness; but that was gone, and in its place was the
+patient look of one who had suffered much, and in silence. She spoke
+seldom, and in a low tone, so soft and musical that one regretted when the
+voice ceased.
+
+'Your letter,' said Mr. Colton, in continuation of a previous
+conversation, 'put an end to all my plans respecting my poor niece. I had
+hoped to assist her; for knowing her father's hostility to her, I feared
+that she might be in want. Her death was a very melancholy one.'
+
+He looked in the fire in deep thought, and for a short time a silence
+ensued which no one seemed inclined to break.
+
+'I never saw her,' said his wife, after some moments; 'I think _you_ did.'
+
+'Yes, once--at the trial,' replied he, uttering the last words with an
+effort, as if the subject were painful. 'She was very beautiful.'
+
+'Did she resemble her father?' inquired Mrs. Colton.
+
+'Perhaps I can settle that question more easily than any one,' said
+Harson, rising up, 'by letting you judge for yourself.'
+
+He went to a small curtain which hung against the wall, and drawing it
+aside, disclosed a portrait of Rust's daughter--the same which Rust had
+brooded over with such mingled emotions on the night previous to the
+murder. The same childlike, innocent smile, played round the small,
+dimpled mouth; the same calm, thoughtful expression of intellect mingled
+with gentleness, shone out of the eyes. All was as it was when father and
+child last looked upon it--the criminal and her accuser. Every line was
+unaltered; but where were they? DUST! They had acted their part on earth;
+their love, their hate, their fears, their remorse, were past. The tide of
+time was hurrying on, bringing life and death, and hopes and fears to
+others, but sweeping from the earth all trace of their footsteps. To them
+forever, aye even until the last trump, time and thought, and care and
+feeling, had no existence!
+
+Mrs. Colton's eyes filled with tears as she gazed upon the picture. 'She
+deserved a happier fate,' said she, in a subdued tone, as if she feared to
+disturb the spell which seemed to hang about it.
+
+'It was ordained for the best,' replied Harson, in a grave tone, as he
+regarded the portrait with a kind of solemn interest. Then, after a
+moment, he added: 'That _was_ her, before want and suffering had laid
+their iron finger upon her. When I saw her, she was dead. She was very
+beautiful even then; but in the short time that had elapsed since her
+father's imprisonment, the work of years had been performed; she seemed
+much older and thinner, and more care-worn.'
+
+'How did you get this?' inquired Mr. Colton, pointing to the picture.
+
+'A friend of mine, the person who aided the girl in her last moments,
+accidentally learned that it was for sale, and begged me to buy it. He was
+too poor to do it, and I was willing to gratify him; and so the picture
+became mine.'
+
+Mr. Colton looked at him for a few moments, as if on the point of making
+some remark, and then walked to the other end of the room and took a seat
+without a word. He was aroused by the child climbing on his knee, and
+putting her arms about his neck.
+
+'God protect you, my child!' said he, laying his hand affectionately on
+her head; 'may you never know the misery which has fallen upon that poor
+girl!'
+
+The words were intended to be inaudible, but they reached the ear of his
+wife, who going up to him, and laying her hand on his arm, said in a low
+voice: 'Come, come, George, do not give way to these feelings. You must
+not be gloomy.'
+
+He looked at her sadly, and then placing his finger on his heart, said:
+'Is not what has been going on here, for years, enough to wither to the
+root every feeling of cheerfulness, so that it should never again put
+forth a blossom?'
+
+'Hush! hush!' interrupted his wife, in a whisper; 'if you _have_ suffered,
+you have gained at last what you have always prayed for; while _he_, the
+one who caused it all, has paid the penalty of his misdeeds. Remember what
+his fate was.' She pointed to the picture: 'Remember too, the fate of his
+only child. George, George! his punishment has been terrible, even in
+_this_ world!'
+
+'You are right, Mary--GOD forgive me! I'll think of it no more. _He_ and I
+were nursed in the same arms, and watched by the same fond mother. From
+the bottom of my heart I forgive him. It would be sacrilege to her memory,
+for me to harbor an unkind feeling toward even a stranger, if she had
+loved him.'
+
+He was silent for a moment, and then addressing Harson, enquired:
+
+'Who is this Mr. Kornicker?'
+
+'A poor fellow, with little to help him through the world but careless
+habits and a good heart.'
+
+'What character does he bear?' inquired the other.
+
+'Such as might be expected from his position,' replied Harson; 'full of
+flaws, but with a vein of gold running through it. Nature has given him
+fine feelings, and fortune, unluckily, has placed him in a situation where
+such feelings are impediments rather than otherwise. But he is a noble
+fellow for all that.'
+
+'Where can he be found?' asked his guest.
+
+Harson probably anticipated the object of this inquiry, for he said with a
+laugh:
+
+'He has been taken care of; he has been placed where the means of
+livelihood and competence are in his grasp, if he will but work for them.
+And what is better yet, he seems disposed to do so, although not much can
+be expected of him at first. I do not think,' added he, 'that it
+contributes to the happiness of a young man, with a long life before him,
+to be altogether idle. I will do all that I can to help him; but he must
+work. It will be more easy for him as he gets used to the traces.'
+
+The stranger acquiesced in this remark, and then added: 'I will take his
+address, nevertheless, for I must see him when I return to the city, which
+will be very shortly; but you seem to have anticipated me in every thing.
+Even the lawyer, Mr. Holmes, declined to be paid for his services. He said
+that _this_ was not strictly a business matter, and that what he had done
+was out of friendship for you, and that I had better pocket the fee and
+drop the subject; at the same time, he said he was going to dinner, and
+asked me to join him, which I did, and a very pleasant time we had of it.'
+
+A good-natured laugh was indulged at the peculiarities of the old lawyer,
+and many stories told of him, and of others who have figured in this
+history. Nor was it until the little clock over the mantel-piece seemed to
+give a very vehement wag of its pendulum as it struck twelve, and Spite,
+who had been asleep in the corner, bounced up, alarmed at the lateness of
+the night, and barked vociferously, that they dreamed of going to bed.
+
+The strangers were Harson's guests that night; and the old man, having
+escorted them to their room, and wished them good night, was himself soon
+in bed and asleep.
+
+Bright and early the next morning, they were astir; for they were to leave
+the city, and Harson was up and ready to see them off. It was a fine
+morning; the trees were just beginning to put forth their spring leaves,
+and the grass in the public squares was looking quite fresh and green, as
+they drove down to the wharf, where the steamer lay, whizzing and puffing,
+and groaning as if in mortal pain, and tugging at its cable like some
+shackled sea-monster struggling to escape to its home in the deep. Early
+as it was, crowds were hurrying to and fro; carts driving up and
+unloading; porters staggering along with trunks and bales on their
+shoulders; carriages dashing up at a gallop, filled with people afraid of
+being too late, and going off more leisurely after the passengers were
+deposited on the wharf. People were bustling hither and thither, elbowing
+their way to one place, merely to find out where to elbow it to the next;
+friends were bidding each other adieu; and in particular, a stout lady
+from the country, in yellow ribbons, from the upper part of the boat was
+sending a confidential message to her family and friends by a gentleman
+who stood in the crowd some sixty yards off.
+
+Through this throng the coach containing our friends drove, and just in
+good time, for as they stepped on board, the last bell rang.
+
+'All aboard!' shouted the captain; 'take in the plank.'
+
+Harson shook hands with his friends. 'God bless thee, my child!' said he,
+pressing Annie in his arms. The next moment he stepped on shore; and the
+boat glided from the dock, and shot out upon the green water.
+
+'Ah, Annie!' said the old man, as he stopped waving his hand, and turned
+away from the river, 'I had hoped that you would have been mine own as
+long as I lived; but it's all right as it is. Your brother,' added he, 'I
+did not miss much, when his parents took him, but _you_ had become a part
+of my home. Well, well!'
+
+No doubt there was a great deal of hidden consolation in these last words;
+for Harson's face soon recovered its usual cheerful character, and he
+steadily trudged toward his home.
+
+A few words respecting the other characters, and our task is ended.
+
+Grosket was induced by Mr. Colton to remove to the country, where an
+intercourse with different and better men than those with whom he had
+hitherto associated tended in a great measure to soften his character, and
+temper his fierce passions--the offspring of persecution and suffering.
+
+Mrs. Blossom, at first alarmed by the fear of the law, grew penitent and
+rigorous in the discharge of her moral obligations to society; but the Law
+being a notorious sleepy-head, and never appearing to have its eyes open,
+she gradually fell into her old habits, re�pened her 'seminary for lambs;'
+and from the great quantity of her disciples which frequent the
+thoroughfares of the city at present, I should judge is getting along
+prosperously. Mr. Snork was extremely desirous of becoming a partner in
+the concern, and made several overtures to that effect, which might have
+been accepted by the lady, had he not objected to being deprived of his
+eye-sight, and seated at a corner to receive pennies from passers-by. It
+was in vain that the lady represented to him that this would be the making
+of their respective fortunes; that blind beggars, particularly if they
+were remarkably disgusting, as was the case with him, had been known to
+retire with handsome fortunes, and that some of them even bought snug
+little farms in the country, and kept a horse and 'shay.' Mr. Snork
+however, was obstinate; his proposals were accordingly rejected, and he
+returned disconsolately to his abode, which was now lonely, his wife
+having paid a visit to the penitentiary, for the benefit of the country
+air.
+
+The widow, Mrs. Chowles, still lives in her quiet, blinking little house,
+as cheerful and contented as ever; as happy as ever to hear Harry's heavy
+step, and to see his honest face in his old corner in her parlor; and
+although he is no longer accompanied by Spite, who has grown old and
+rheumatic, so that he is unable to stir from the chimney-corner, where he
+passes his time in crabbed solitude, except when he turns up his dim eyes
+to his old master, as he hears his voice, and feels his caressing hand on
+his head: all else is as it was in that little household; and that it may
+long continue, is our warmest wish.
+
+
+CONCLUSION.
+
+Mr. Stites' manuscript was written at different times, and in different
+hands. The little man was evidently troubled with a defective memory,
+(although I would not tell him so for the world,) and has permitted many
+strange mistakes and anachronisms to creep into his tale, which inclines
+me to think that the whole matter is not so authentic as he pretends, but
+has been gleaned in various parcels from the regions of romance. But as he
+is not a little tetchy on the score of his veracity, I can only suggest
+that the tale be regarded by his good natured readers rather as a fiction
+than sober truth.
+
+From beginning to end, strong disapprobation has been expressed by Mr.
+Snagg, who says that 'that d--d dog is enough to kill any story, and that
+for his part, he doesn't think much of Stites; never did, and never will;
+and that a single hair of Slaughter's tail was worth Stites' marrow, fat
+and kidneys, all done up together.'
+
+It is useless to argue with him; and I find the most judicious mode of
+disposing of the matter is to let the question remain unanswered; by which
+means he soon comes round, begins to discover a few merits in the
+manuscript, and finally concludes with a warm panegyric upon Mr. STITES
+himself, always however with a reservation as to the dog, whom he swears
+'he never shall be able to stomach.'
+
+In all respects, my quiet old home remains as it was. The same mystery
+hangs about it as formerly. The interest which for a time was excited
+respecting it, when I gave an account of the murder which had left it
+shunned and tenantless, has died away; and with the exception of Mr.
+Snagg, Mr. Stites, and my dog, I have few visiters. Perhaps it is best
+that it should be so; for I have the spectres of no hard feelings nor
+bitter thoughts, nor painful recollections to haunt me, requiring
+excitement and bustle to drive them off; and old age demands time for
+solemn thought and serious meditation, to enable it to wean itself from
+the past, and look cheerfully forward to the future.
+
+But no more of myself. My task is ended; and I now bid you farewell!
+
+                                                            JOHN QUOD.
+
+
+
+
+THE PAST.
+
+
+  I.
+
+  Despair not, though thy course is drear,
+    The past has pleasures for us all;
+  Bright scenes and things to hearts most dear,
+    And those how fondly we recall.
+
+
+  II.
+
+  Such as some lovely girl we knew;
+    Such as some touching song we heard;
+  Such as some evening spent, when flew
+    The hours as swift as passing bird.
+
+
+  III.
+
+  Such as some well-tried friend we had;
+    Such as some acts of kindness done,
+  Yet rising up to make us glad,
+    And so will rise when years are gone.
+
+
+  IV.
+
+  Despair not! still be innocent;
+    Admire the beautiful, the good,
+  And when the cry of woe is sent,
+    Turn to relieve, in pitying mood.
+
+
+  V.
+
+  So shall the present, when 'tis past,
+    Rich with harmonious scenes appear,
+  No gloomy shadows o'er it cast,
+    No spectres there, to make thee fear.
+
+                                                                 E. G.
+
+
+
+
+THE HEARTH OF HOME.
+
+BY MARY E. HEWITT.
+
+
+  The storm around my dwelling sweeps,
+  And while the dry boughs fierce it reaps,
+  My heart within a vigil keeps,
+    The warm and cheering hearth beside;
+  And as I mark the kindling glow
+  Brightly o'er all its radiance throw,
+  Back to the years my memories flow,
+    When Rome sat on her hills in pride;
+  When every stream and grove and tree
+  And fountain had its deity.
+
+  The hearth was then, 'mong low and great,
+  Unto the Lares consecrate:
+  The youth arrived to man's estate
+    There offered up his golden heart;
+  Thither, when overwhelmed with dread,
+  The stranger still for refuge fled,
+  Was kindly cheered, and warmed, and fed,
+    Till he might fearless thence depart:
+  And there the slave, a slave no more,
+  Hung reverent up the chain he wore.
+
+  Full many a change the hearth hath known;
+  The Druid fire, the curfew's tone,
+  The log that bright at yule-tide shone,
+    The merry sports of Hallow-e'en;
+  Yet still where'er a home is found,
+  Gather the warm affections round,
+  And there the notes of mirth resound,
+    The voice of wisdom heard between:
+  And welcomed there with words of grace,
+  The stranger finds a resting place.
+
+  Oh! wheresoe'er our feet may roam,
+  Still sacred is the hearth of home;
+  Whether beneath the princely dome,
+    Or peasant's lowly roof it be,
+  For home the wanderer ever yearns;
+  Backward to where its hearth-fire burns,
+  Like to the wife of old, he turns
+    Ever the eyes of memory.
+  Back where his heart he offered first--
+  Back where his fond young hopes he nursed.
+
+  My humble hearth though all disdain,
+  Here may I cast aside the chain
+  The world hath coldly on me lain;
+    Here to my LARES offer up
+  The warm prayer of a grateful heart;
+  THOU that my household guardian art,
+  That dost to me thine aid impart,
+    And with thy mercy fill'st my cup;
+  Strengthen the hope within my soul,
+  Till I in faith may reach the goal.
+
+
+
+
+PROFESSOR SHAW.
+
+A SKETCH.
+
+
+PLUTARCH SHAW, the naturalist, was lately in the stocks, which has been a
+matter of much talk among the virtuosi, and a good deal of malicious
+laughter on all hands. He cut a devil of a figure, rest assured, propped
+up in a straight jacket, his eye fiery with vengeance; the innocent victim
+of 'circumstances,' and that very common error of putting the saddle on
+the wrong horse. A very little explanation will serve to place this matter
+in the right light, and show by what a fantastic adventure an honest man,
+who was alway given to roam over much territory, was suddenly placed upon
+the limits, and one of the most profound explorers of the curious became
+himself for the time being a curiosity.
+
+Mr. Shaw is so much of an enthusiast, that it is very unpleasant to stand
+near him when he is talking about his bugs, or exhibiting his specimens,
+on account of being spattered all over with the spray of his eloquence. A
+bat shot down in the dusk of the evening is enough to set him half crazy,
+and make the saliva fly all over; it rolls and surges against the bulwarks
+of his jagged teeth in a rabid foam, showers out with his descriptions,
+and makes him only tolerable at arm's length. The beetles and butterflies
+which he has transfixed are innumerable; and he is perpetually syringing
+down the humming-birds, as stationary on vibrating wings, these beautiful
+creatures of the air plunge their beaks deep into the cups of flowers.
+With him pin-money is an item. If he marks any thing curious in the
+natural world, he 'sticks a pin there,' and keeps it for future reference;
+any thing from a lady-bug ready to unfold suddenly the gauze upon its hard
+back, where you would think no wings existed, and fly away, to an
+offensive black beetle that snuffs the candle, or cracks its head against
+the wall, thence upward in the scale to the bird which Liberty loves as
+her sublimest emblem, the proudest of the proud, the bird of our own
+mountains, and the eagle of our own skies.
+
+    'I would not heedlessly set foot upon a worm,'
+
+writes Cowper: not so however with the great Shaw, whose collection of
+worms is most disgusting; exceeded only by his reptiles preserved in
+spirits, with all their sickening exhibition of claws. He has got some
+dragons that fall little short of the Devil himself in general hideousness
+and outrageous tails; some noots brought from Nootka Sound; some green
+monsters from Green Bay; some devilish things from Van Diemon's land; and
+finally, Plutarch is himself hideous, and ought to be put in a collection,
+which by the by, he lately _was_. It was a great era in his life time when
+he shot a wild-cat; that however has nothing to do with the present story,
+and must be told shortly. He threw a stone at him, it seems, to frighten
+him out of the bushes, where by dint of sneaking he discovered something
+with a white and black fur, moving about in a short compass. Breathless
+with excitement, standing on tip-toe, dodging his head among the brambles,
+all ready, and meaning to have a shot at him 'pretty soon,' he was
+whispering to himself, telling himself in a mysterious voice to 'hold
+fast,' not to budge, but wait for the next movement; when this
+_pole-cat_--there is a distinction, it is well known in the species, nor in
+the present instance was it a 'distinction without a difference'--opened
+the batteries with the precision of an artillery officer. 'O my eyes!' was
+the exclamation of Professor Shaw, 'my eyes! my eyes! my eyes!' It was a
+great era in his life time also when he shot a plover; _that_ however has
+little to do with the present story, and must be told shortly. It was on
+the Big Plains, where not a tree nor shrub may be seen for miles around;
+where ambuscades are unknown, and it is very hard to steal a march upon
+the timid birds which are frightened at a very shadow; only they do not
+fear the flocks and herds which pasture upon the plains, but tamely pick
+up the worms beneath their feet. Professor Shaw hit upon an expedient to
+surprise them, which no other person would have thought of, than one of
+his extreme ingenuity: a big box, opened at both ends, into which he
+crawled with fowling-piece in hand. First, however, he procured an ox-hide
+at the stall of a neighboring farm, with all its apparatus of horns, and
+placed it over the box, to give it the appearance at a distance, of a
+_bon� fide_ ox. Sure enough, this scheme worked well. On came the plovers,
+hopping about with much unconcern. Shaw chuckled. He flattered himself
+that he should be the death of some of them, if his own life were only
+spared a few moments. While he hammered the flint of his fowling-piece
+with an old jack-knife, he heard a distant rumbling sound, which soon
+waxed terrible, and caused him to thrust out his head. Thunder and Mars!
+what should he do? If he ran, it was all up with him, and he was a dead
+man if he staid where he was. A wild bull of the prairies was cutting up
+shines at no great distance, tearing up the sod with hoofs and horns, and
+threatening to demolish that refuge of lies. Shaw poked out his head, and
+drew it in again, clutching his fowling-piece convulsively, and trembling
+in an agony of fear. Involuntarily he began to say his prayers. 'Our
+Father who art in heaven,' said he, with great fervor. The bull was now
+up, bellowing in a tumultuous passion, galloping round and round in
+circles which were diminishing with every turn, getting his horns ready to
+toss the whole fiction of an ox, box, hide, horns, Plutarch Shaw and all,
+into the air. 'Help! help!' shrieked the philosopher; 'I'll come out; I
+must, I must, I _must!_' And he _did_ come out, by far the most sneaking
+object for miles around on the Big Plains. Some men who were hunting
+plover from a wagon, (which is the right way,) saw his fantastic position
+with mingled laughter and alarm. They drove to his assistance, but the
+horses shyed off at the terrific conduct of the bull, whose onslaught was
+now made upon the box, which he attacked hoof and horn. Mr. Shaw had
+barely strength to reach the shelter of the wagon, into which he was
+taken, much chap-fallen, and resuscitated with brandy-and-water, which
+were luckily at hand.
+
+He was an 'odd fish,' unanimously so styled, by those who knew him, nor
+did his appearance belie him, as he started forth on a geological
+excursion in the month of May last, making poems and tuning pianos by the
+way. He strung up the old harpsicords to the satisfaction of the country
+girls, who thought he 'played on music' with great skill, but his eyes
+were the very wildest. Was Professor Shaw crazy? By no means. As a proof
+of it, he had written several poems as voluminous as the Fredoniad; which
+were unavailing for the present, but which he _did_ hope that his 'country
+would not willingly let die;' added to this, some marches in double quick
+time, some intricate and inwoven harmonies in the transcendental style,
+stanzas set to music, thrown forth when the excitement was upon him, and
+fugitives from justice. Yet all these were nothing, to judge by dark and
+mysterious hints which were given out, of some GREAT WORK at which he was
+now laboring, which the world, (he said it with a presentiment of triumph)
+would be _compelled_ to own. But, as I remarked, his appearance did not
+belie him. Whoever might doubt his metaphysics, his legs were
+unquestionably the very longest, by the assistance of which he had lately
+won a foot-race on the Union course for a hundred dollars, to enable him
+to pursue his studies for the ministry. 'Accoutred as he was,' on one fine
+day in the month of May, he had wandered to a distant part of the country
+with a walking-stick, furnished at the extremity with a small hammer.
+Absorbed in revery, and constructing verses by the way, he arrived at last
+in a romantic valley, where he was soon busily employed in cracking rocks,
+and collecting specimens for his cabinet.
+
+The solitude and pleasant walks were eminently suited to the mind of
+Professor Shaw. The babbling of the rills which came down the hill sides
+and washed the pebbles at his feet, were soothing to the sense, and the
+birds sang sweetly on the trees, which were covered with the blossoms of
+the spring. Only a single dwelling was seen on one of those swelling hills
+which rose above each other, gently and far away, till their last
+undulating lines were limited by the horizon's blue verge. The eye
+wandered with pleasure over the diversified prospect, which included the
+boundaries of three sovereign states, with various rivers, valleys and
+fertile fields. On such a spot, where Nature reigned and developed herself
+in quiet beauty, whether in the voluptuous budding of the spring, or in
+the year's gorgeous decline, Charity had taken the hint and erected an
+asylum for the insane. Happy invocation of Nature, most kind and gentle
+saviour of the sick, who meeting her in her quiet haunts may touch her
+beautiful garments and be whole! In the exhilarating sunshine, in the
+fields garnished so exquisitely by our good God, in the religious woods,
+the circling hills, and the unbounded sky, there is a force of healing,
+when Art has consigned the victim to despair, and the soothing hand
+aggravates the deep-rooted sorrow. Nature gently re-conducts the lost mind
+through its labyrinth of error, speaking sweet consolation in the passing
+breeze, and a volume of beauty in each unclasping flower.
+
+Professor Shaw was doubling up his grotesque figure over the stones,
+gathering garnets. With the intent look of a gold digger, or an alchymist
+prying into his crucible, he was seeking for treasures, cracking up rocks
+into the size of sugar-lumps, and Macadamizing all the place for yards
+round. His shadow stalked with him with colossal strides, according to the
+declension of the sun, and the hammer in his shadowy arm fell on the
+projection of the shadowy rocks. But not farther off than where his
+grotesque head and slanting extremity were measured on the next wall, two
+clowns had gee'd their oxen under a tree, and left their basket of
+potatoes in the furrow, (w--hoy--gee, there--I tell yer to gee!) for the
+sake of giving their undivided attention to the Professor. Geology they
+had never heard of, beyond its application to stone fence; so they
+considered the conduct of a man very queer indeed, who was muttering to
+himself, and filling his pocket full of stones. After a little silence,
+they nodded to each other with a knowing look, and said with one consent,
+'He's as crazy as a coot.' They approached Mr. Shaw, dubiously. 'See his
+eyes!' said they; 'aint they wild? Mister?' said the elder clown.
+
+Shaw made no reply.
+
+'Mister, look a-here; aint you--aint you----?'
+
+'Fel-spar,' said Shaw, cabalistically.
+
+'Oh dear me! that's enough! My dear feller, we've got a duty to perform. I
+guess we know where you come from. Mister, aint you----?'
+
+'Are you addressing me?' said Professor Shaw, mildly, looking up. 'Are you
+addressing your remarks to me, my friend?
+
+'Wonderful cunnin', but it wont do. 'T wont sarve you; I'm a-feard we
+shall have to----'
+
+'Well, Sir, my name is Shaw.'
+
+'What's that you got onto your cane? What you doin' in Queens c�ounty? Do
+tell, aint you----got loose from somewhar? Honor bright!'
+
+The professor, lost in amazement, answered only by a broad stare. He then
+bethought him that two lunatics had escaped from yonder mansion. The idea
+satisfied his mind, and surprise gave way at once to a smile, full of
+benevolence and pity. 'My poor friends,' said he, 'do go back; you have
+surely wandered from home; do go up the hill--do go up the hill.' Then
+stamping his foot with an air of authority, he exclaimed, stretching out
+the hammer of his cane, 'Go back to the asylum, in-stan-taneously!'
+
+'I guess the one in the loft will be long enough,' whispered the rustic;
+'but fetch the longest of the two _ropes_, and make haste. Oh, he's
+stark!'
+
+'Ah! how sad!' soliloquized Professor Shaw, as both of his new friends
+retreated, and one hurried out of sight, 'how sad a spectacle! the
+deluded, wandering mind, told by such unerring symptoms; the wild eye,
+strange words, and fantastic pleasantness; reason hurled from her own
+throne, and that steady light exchanged for the fitful flickering over
+decay! They mistake me for one of their melancholy fraternity, poor
+lunatics! whereas my lamp of life, and reason, it appears to me, never
+shone brighter. I shall yet work out something of which my country will be
+proud, and which shall inscribe on an enduring pedestal the name of SHAW.'
+The professor (with his hammer) split a rock. 'If those men come back,
+what had I better do with them? I will contemplate the remarkable
+phenomenon of the mind in ruins. Humanity suggests to me that I ought to
+coax them back with sophistry as far as the garden-gate, and then holler
+for help.' Shaw was the best hearted of men; he would not hurt a human
+being in the world, cruel as he was to bugs, and to centipedes an 'outer
+barbarian.' In the course of ten minutes he was at the base of a large
+rock, scooping out garnets, and thinking casually of that 'great work
+which his country would not willingly let die,' when a rope was let over
+his head and shoulders from above, and the professor was noosed. The
+countrymen jumped down, and began to drag him from the other end,
+squeezing his bowels, and winding him round and round, till coming to
+close quarters, they knocked his hat off, wrested his hammer out of his
+hand, and seizing him by the collar, almost throttled him with the
+knuckles of their immense fists.
+
+SHAW. (Kicking violently.) Murder! murder! murder!
+
+RUSTICS. It won't do no good; we got yer; you may as well come fust as
+last. You're crazy as a coot, and wuss now than when we fus see you. Your
+eyes shows it.
+
+SHAW. I'll go with you, my friends, but don't kill me; oh! I beseech you
+don't kill me!
+
+RUSTICS. No, we wont hurt you; only come along to the house. Come along.
+
+SHAW. Take your knuckles out of my throat, please. _Aside._ Their
+hallucination is extreme; the symptoms of their disease have taken a form
+the most vindictive. Yes, my friends, conduct me safe. We shall soon reach
+the house; then all will be explained.
+
+At this very hour an amusing scene was enacting among the lunatics in the
+large hall of the asylum. One who professed magnetism was trying his skill
+upon a subject, to the great entertainment of his fellows. He was making
+the passes after a singular fashion, upon a docile fellow who sat bolt
+upright in a chair with a face of the most stolid gravity. Standing at a
+distance, he would rush up with long strides, make a wavy flourish with
+his hands over the face of the subject, and retreat as rapidly. Then with
+eager, swelling eyes, aiming with the fore-finger of each hand, he would
+run up and point at some phrenological bump upon the cranium. But the
+patient sat immovable, and was neither to be soothed into slumber, nor
+coaxed into giving any indication that the organs were excited; as is the
+case with the well-drilled _proteg�s_ of your itinerant lecturers.
+
+Nearly all the inmates were witnesses of this scene, except a few who were
+restricted, and one fair girl who walked in the garden sobbing; and never
+did tears fall out of more beautiful eyes, or shed over such a sweet face
+the interest of sorrow. They gushed profusely on the rosebud in her hand;
+fit emblem of herself; for she had not yet broke into the bloom of
+womanhood. Where tears flow, despair has been already softened to sorrow,
+and smiles may yet shine out of the darkness, as the bow of promise
+bridges only a firmament of cloud. This poor creature, frightened at a
+disturbance at the gate, fled like a fawn to her own apartment. The
+professor was lugged in by the head and ears, with unnecessary roughness.
+Appearances were much against him, as he always had a crazy look. His
+strange dress and equipments, his unshaven beard, his long hair straggling
+over his forehead, his long nose and long legs, his much-abused and
+bunged-up hat, which yawned wide open at the crown and showed the lining,
+wore the external tokens of a mind ill at ease. Added to this, a sickly
+smile shed a yellow glare over his features, of which the effect was
+neither natural nor pleasant; and as the lunatics pressed around, and the
+clowns still clutched him by the throat, even that passed away, and left
+an expression of bewilderment and undisguised dismay. At that moment the
+physician arrived, and glancing at the new subject just brought to the
+establishment, and concluding that his present wildness would need some
+coercion at first, requested him to be brought into the nearest apartment.
+The four formed a singular group. 'Sit down,' said the doctor, nodding
+calmly to the professor, as he prepared to study the case. 'Ha! ha!'
+exclaimed Professor Shaw, dropping into a chair, and striving hard to be
+amused at his predicament, 'ha! ha! ha! My dear Sir, ha! ha! yes, I think
+I may say ha! ha! ha!'--and he laughed so obstreperously as to set the
+whole company in a roar. 'This excursion for scientific purposes; near
+coming to an unpleasant termination; some of your poor fellows, doctor,'
+casting a knowing look at the clowns, 'are strongly possessed they brought
+me here against my will.'
+
+The doctor smiled.
+
+'Let me explain all,' said Mr. Shaw, recovering breath, and speaking with
+preternatural calmness. 'Oblige me first by having those men removed.
+Their presence disturbs me. I pity them from my lowest soul; but they
+have--it is ridiculous--ha! ha! ha! yes, it _is_ ridiculous--but they have
+hurt me very much and disturbed my equanimity. You should confine them
+more strictly, Sir, and not let them go at large to murder strangers by
+the way-side.'
+
+The doctor smiled.
+
+'In search of relaxation, during the intervals of a great work which I
+have in hand, having been made an honorary member of the Tinnecum
+Association, I came here for the prosecution of scientific purposes, and
+for the collection of botanical and mineralogical specimens, which I have
+at present in my breeches pocket.'
+
+RUSTICS. He! he! he! that's enough--see his eyes!
+
+SHAW. (_Smiling._) Doctor, how long have these subjects been in your
+institution? Their insanity has not taken a very mild form. Will you
+oblige me by removing them from the room? Indeed it hurts me to see the
+immortal mind astray.
+
+The doctor smiled.
+
+SHAW. (_Enthusiastically._) As I entered these doors, a most lovely being
+shot across my path. It was but an instant; a quick light, a momentary
+flash, and all was gone! But it was enough! I saw her! I never shall
+forget her. Who is she? That sweet girl has impressed her image on my
+soul!
+
+DOCTOR. My friend, be calm.
+
+SHAW. Oh, my dear Sir! understand me. I _am_ calm, I _am_ calm.
+
+DOCTOR. Perhaps you will be so kind as to inform me where your _friends_
+reside, and when you left them upon this journey.
+
+'My friends!' exclaimed the professor, with a bitter sneer; 'who are my
+friends? Where have I found any whose friendship was other than a name? My
+books, my cabinet, my studies, the great work on which I am now
+laboring--these are my friends; it is only through these that I shall be
+raised to fame. _Sic itur ad astra._'
+
+DOCTOR. I am satisfied that we had better secure----
+
+SHAW. Do you want any assistance, Sir? I will willingly help you to get
+these poor fellows to their rooms.
+
+RUSTICS. He's the cunningest we ever seen.
+
+DOCTOR. Yes, he would deceive any one. Wait a minute my men.
+
+SHAW. If you don't need me I'll bid you good day; I can't stay any longer.
+
+DOCTOR. Oh no, we can't let you go, in common humanity, till we have
+communicated with your friends.
+
+Professor Shaw, in the utmost alarm, attempted to plunge out of the room.
+He was laid violent hands on by all three; his indignation boiled over; he
+struggled most desperately, knocked down the doctor, and attempted to jump
+out of the window, but in the end was overcome, a straight-jacket put on
+him, the stones were taken out of his pocket, he was conducted to a
+separate apartment, and as the shades of night fell around him, he almost
+doubted himself whether he was in his sound mind. His wits seemed to be
+indeed scattered. In vain he tried to collect them, and to realize his
+present position, which was the most false and unfortunate one in which he
+had ever been placed. He charged the Devil with conspiracy. He had already
+sneered at the suggestion of having friends; how should he be the victim
+and laughter of his enemies! He imagined them holding their gaunt sides
+and shaking with a spectre-like malignity. Then he thought of the fair
+girl whom he had seen in the garden shedding tears on roses, and strove to
+weave a chaplet of verse which should be more unfading than flowers. What
+a strange destiny was his! The victim of untoward accidents, persecuted by
+some evil spirit, and leading an aimless, desultory life, which he yet
+feared would lead on to lunacy. What should he do in the present instance?
+Be patient? Yes, he would be calm, forgiving, philosophical as ever.
+Footsteps are approaching; the door of his cell opens; perhaps it is
+already the token of his release. Yes, one of his own townsmen enters.
+Alas! he owed the professor a grudge, and assured the doctor that he was
+cracked, and begged him to hold on to him by all means; he would go and
+inform his friends. 'Ha! ha! ha!' exclaimed Shaw, as the door closed;
+'there it is again; in luck as usual; ha! ha! ha!--ha! ha! ha!'
+
+As it grew dark, and he lay on his pallet, a crowd of thoughts and
+imaginations pursued him through a long sleep, and when he opened his eyes
+to the morning light, he gazed around the strange place with astonishment,
+and tried in vain to persuade himself that his present position was not a
+dream.
+
+In three days he was released from limbo; retracing his steps, with all
+the bugs and specimens which he had collected. And, for those who feel an
+interest in Professor Shaw, it may be agreeable to know, that in his
+wanderings, having discovered in a green lane, on the margin of a
+duck-pond, a district school in want of a pedagogue, he forthwith assumed
+the birch, and may be now seen at almost any hour of the day, in the midst
+of his noisy populace, commanding silence, or dusting them on their least
+honorable parts. 'Tough, are you? I'll see if I can find a tender spot.
+Come, no bawling, or I'll flog you till you stop. Thomas Jones, take your
+book, and stick your nose in the c-o-rner. First division may go out.
+First class in geography----'
+
+                                                              F. W. S.
+
+
+
+
+STANZAS
+
+TO THE SPIRITS OF MY THREE DEPARTED SISTERS.
+
+WRITTEN AT MID-WINTER.
+
+
+  Sweet sisters! ye have passed away,
+    In solemn silence one by one,
+  And left a brother here to stray,
+    In doubt and darkness--and alone!
+  For like three lamps of holy flame,
+    Ye shone upon my weary way,
+  Till a chill breath from heaven came,
+    And quenched for aye the kindly ray.
+
+  Where are ye now?--where are ye now?
+    Those loving hearts and spirits, where!
+  O'er three new graves in grief I bow,
+    But ye are gone--ye are not there!
+  The winds that sigh while wandering by,
+    Curl the bright snow in many a wreath,
+  And sing in mournful melody,
+    O'er the cold dust that sleeps beneath.
+
+  The birds that sang when ye were here,
+    Are singing in another clime;
+  Have left the hedge and forest sere,
+    And gone where all is summer-time.
+  The frail bright flowers that bloom'd around,
+    When ye were blooming bright as they,
+  Lie crushed and withered on the ground,
+    Their fragrance heavenward passed away.
+
+  And ye are gone where genial skies
+    And radiant suns eternal shine,
+  Where peaceful songs forever rise,
+    From saintly tongues and lips divine.
+  And like the flowers whose sweet perfume
+    Has left the soil and risen above,
+  Has risen from your silent tomb
+    The holy fragrance of your love.
+
+  But often when the silver beams
+    Of the pale stars are on my bed,
+  Ye come among my sweetest dreams,
+    And bend in silence o'er my head;
+  And throngs of bright imaginings
+    Float round and o'er me till the dawn;
+  I hear the fluttering of wings!
+    I start--I wake! but ye are gone.
+
+  Oh! I am sad; yet still the thought
+    That when this tired though willing hand
+  Its earthly destiny hath wrought,
+    Ye wait me in that distant land,
+  And that ye long to have me there,
+    More that I pine your absence here,
+  Shall heal the touch of every care
+    And quench the sting of every fear.
+
+  No marble stands with towering shaft
+    To catch the stranger's curious eye;
+  No tablet graved with flattering craft,
+    Tells where your silent ashes lie;
+  But there is one secluded spot
+    In the deep shadows of my soul,
+  Where stranger foot intrudeth not,
+    Nor winter's wanton tempests roll.
+
+  And there in Friendship's burial-ground
+    The willow of remembrance bends,
+  And ye my sisters there have found
+    A home among my choicest friends;
+  And modelled with etherial grace,
+    The form of HOPE with heavenward eyes,
+  Stands calmly on your burial-place,
+    And points her finger to the skies.
+
+                                                        I. G. HOLLAND.
+
+
+
+
+AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF THE PRAIRIE HERMIT.
+
+EDITED BY PETER VON GEIST.
+
+
+It happened on the twenty-seventh day of July, in the year of our Lord one
+thousand eight hundred and forty-two, that I, PETER VON GEIST, found
+myself, in the natural course of events, journeying on horse-back along
+the northern bank of the Ohio river, in the state of Illinois. The space
+between me and the house where I designed to stop, and the time between
+then and sun-down, were somewhat disproportionate; so I pricked gallantly
+forward; as gallantly at least as could be expected from a tired horse,
+and a knight whose recreant thoughts were intensely fixed on dollars and
+cents, supper, and other trifling affairs. By dint however of much
+patience in the steed, and much impatience in the rider, we got over the
+ground, and approached a house that had been in sight for some distance.
+
+It was placed on the summit of a steep, conical hill; there was no smoke
+from its chimney, or voices to be heard, or persons to be seen, or other
+signs of life, in its precincts. The grass grew high and green all around
+the hillock, and there was no road, not even a foot-path, visible on its
+side. Nevertheless, I dismounted, left my horse to improve the opportunity
+of snatching a light repast on the abundant herbage, and forced my way up
+to the top of the knoll.
+
+The building was constructed in the rude fashion of the country; but the
+chinking had fallen out from between the logs; the chimney had partly
+tumbled down; tall weeds sprung up between the stones of the door-steps;
+the door itself was fastened with a huge padlock; the windows were nearly
+all beaten in, and every thing about it gave evidence that it had not been
+inhabited for several years. The summit of the hill was smooth and level.
+A few stumps grew around the edge; and the ground seemed to have been, at
+some former time, a garden.
+
+The situation was exceedingly fine, and the view on all sides very
+beautiful. The eminence commanded on one hand three or four miles of the
+river, and on the other an unlimited tract of prairie. At the particular
+moment when I first visited it, the level sun-light came glancing over the
+face of flood and field, tinging every thing that it touched with its own
+mellow hue, and casting gigantic and ill-defined shadows of the hill, the
+house, and myself, on the plain beyond. At the distance of a mile and a
+half below, stood a couple of one-story houses, the logs of which they
+were built newly hewed, evidently of recent construction. The inhabitants
+of this old building, then, must have stood where I am standing, and gazed
+over the vast extent of country that is spread out before me, without
+meeting a single habitation of man, or any thing having life, except
+perhaps a wolf or a buffalo. And it could not have been desire of wealth
+that induced a family of refinement and taste, such as the little
+decorations and ornaments show that this was, to select this solitude for
+their home; for not more than an acre of land, at the foot of the hill,
+had ever been invaded by the plough.
+
+There were several circumstances like these, that were unusual and
+unaccountable; but not being in a mood just then to be much perplexed
+about it, I descended the knoll, remounted, and hurried on towards the
+more hospitable dwellings below.
+
+Of course, the traveller was received with a welcome, and his bodily wants
+speedily and abundantly cared for. After this most important duty had been
+satisfactorily performed, and quietude of spirit consequent thereon was
+restored to my breast, it chanced that the host and his blue-eyed,
+golden-haired, neatly-dressed, smiling-faced, half-matron, and
+half-girlish young wife, who had lately set up business on their own
+account, and I, seated ourselves without the door, to feel the cool air of
+the evening. It chanced too that the door faced the east; and the old
+house towered up darkly in the distance before us. In answer to my
+inquiries, they were able to give but little information concerning it,
+and that chiefly derived from others.
+
+It appeared that there was on the other side of the river, and a little
+lower down, a small settlement. It had stood there from time immemorial;
+at least, the memory of the tidy little wife did not run to the contrary,
+and she had received her birth and education there, and ought to know. She
+remembered, one of the first things that she could remember, a middle-aged
+gentleman, in a black hat and coat, who used to row over the river from
+the other shore in a small skiff, and walk into her father's store to make
+his purchases, with a grave, but not cold or forbidding face, and used to
+pat her on the head, with such a fatherly smile, and say a few words in
+such a kind tone, as to fill her little breast quite full with delight.
+She remembered more distinctly, a few years later, how this same gentleman
+used to come into the settlement as often as once-a-week, and how glad
+every one appeared to meet him and shake hands with him. The villagers
+seemed to repose unlimited confidence in him. The moment he landed,
+half-a-dozen were ready to ask his advice, or to show him papers, to see
+if all were correctly done. He was the umpire in all differences and
+quarrels, and seldom failed to send away the disputants at peace with each
+other. If there was a wedding, he of course must be present. On May-day,
+when the boys and girls went out into the woods to romp, and afterward to
+sit down to a rustic pic-nic, he was sure to walk into their midst, just
+at the right moment, bearing in his hand a wreath of flowers, so
+beautiful, and so tastefully made, that all the girls cried when at length
+it fell to pieces; and he would place it on the head of the Queen of May
+with such a gentle, sweet little speech, that she would blush up to the
+tips of her ears, and all her subjects would clap their hands and laugh
+out with pleasure.
+
+At Christmas parties his place was never empty; and while he was there,
+mirth never flagged. Perhaps their sports were not so boisterous as they
+would have been if he had not been a spectator; but they were quite as
+pleasant at the time, and a great deal pleasanter when looked back upon
+from the next day. He used to sit in one corner, by the huge, roaring
+fire, and look on, apparently as much interested as they themselves were.
+Nothing went amiss; and there was never wanting some slight, good-natured
+remark or act, to rectify mistakes and set them all going again.
+
+But much as he was loved by the villagers, he was no less respected. They
+did not even know his name. Many would have been glad to, and wearied
+themselves by indirect methods to find it out. But as no one had courage
+to ask him, and as it never happened to fall from him incidentally, they
+remained in the dark about it. He was known and addressed however, by the
+appellation of 'the Lawyer,' as their conversation with him was chiefly
+asking his advice on points of law too knotty for them, which he freely
+gave. He affected no mystery or reserve; yet there was something in his
+bearing, affable and unaristocratic as it was, that caused those very
+men--who, if the governor of the state had come among them, would have
+slapped him on the back, and offered him a glass of liquor--to rise in his
+presence and approach him with respect.
+
+My bright-eyed informant, with her musical voice, recollected, a good
+while ago, when she was about ten years old, and he had become gray and
+wrinkled--though he never needed a staff, nor was his eye dim--that he
+rowed over one spring afternoon, and requested the men to leave their work
+for a few minutes, and hear something that he had to say to them.
+Accordingly, they collected 'considerable of a little crowd' around her
+father's store. The lawyer stood in the door, while she made her way
+through the throng and sat down on the door-step, at his feet. She did not
+remember all that he said; only that he talked to them for about half an
+hour, in a calm, conversational tone, on the importance of building
+school-houses and educating their children. They seemed to be much pleased
+with what he said; and after another half hour's free discussion, the
+whole village turned out, and went to work felling trees and hewing
+timber; and in the course of a few days a substantial school-house was
+erected. From that time forth, she and all her brothers and sisters, and
+all her play-mates, at stated hours and seasons, were rigidly imprisoned
+therein, and diligently instructed in the rudiments of science.
+
+About this time, she and a brother who was about two years older embarked
+on a voyage of discovery. They pulled up the river, at least he did, for
+she only held the rudder, two miles, till they come in sight of the
+residence of the Great Unknown. There stood the old house, as she had
+often gazed at it with wondering eyes from the opposite bank, just as
+grim, and dark, and gloomy. It had been their intention to make an open
+descent upon it, and boldly beat up the premises. But now, the building
+was so silent, and deserted, and frowning, their hearts failed them, and
+they crept cautiously along up the southern shore till they were concealed
+by a bend in the river; then striking across, they floated down, by
+accident as it were, close under the northern bank. When they arrived
+under the hill, on the top of which the object of their curiosity was
+placed, they looked anxiously up at it; but every thing was as silent as
+the grave. Seeing it thus unguarded, they took courage, ran the skiff
+ashore, and prepared to land. But when on the point of stepping on the
+beach, the door of the house opened, the man himself walked out therefrom
+and advanced to the brow of the eminence. There he stood; black all over,
+except his face, which at that instant appeared to wear a peculiarly
+terrible and ferocious aspect. The children were frightened, and hastily
+shoved off their little cockle-boat. But the man came down to the edge of
+the water, and called them by name to return. _She_ thought how far off
+home was, and no one near to afford assistance in case of need; and when
+she thought, she would have been glad to have retreated as fast as
+possible; but her brother was commander of the expedition, and without
+more words he pushed back to land.
+
+They went ashore, neither of them altogether devoid of fear and trembling,
+and sat down on the grassy bank, by the side of their venerable friend. He
+soon talked away their timidity; and seemed so mild and affectionate, that
+in a few minutes they were chatting and laughing as merrily as ever
+children could. He showed them his garden, his trees, and flowers, and
+fruits. He gave them a little basket, which they filled with strawberries,
+some of which he squeezed between his fingers and rubbed on her cheeks, to
+see he said, if they could be made any redder. In fine, he amused them so
+much with his stories, and was so pleasant and kind, that they fell more
+than ever in love with him; and after promising a dozen times to come and
+see him every week while it was summer, they returned gaily home.
+
+But the old man died at last. The children went up one sunshiny morning to
+pay him a visit, and found the house all still, and the door locked. They
+knocked and knocked, but no one answered. They peeped in at the window and
+saw him stretched at length on the bed, fully dressed, with a handkerchief
+over his face, and his gray hair lying dishevelled on the pillow. They
+called to him; but still there was no answer. Then they became alarmed,
+and hurried home. Some men came up, broke open the door, and found him
+dead. Without sickness, or premonition of any kind, he had calmly passed
+away.
+
+They dug his grave by the side of the cottage, and laid him in it, with
+his feet to the east and his head to the west; and left him to rest there,
+unknown and unnamed in death, as he had been in life. The whole village,
+men, and women, and children, mourned for him many days. But when the days
+of lamentation were ended, and they saw his face no more, though their
+grief abated, his memory did not, and has not yet passed from their
+hearts.
+
+I observed the voice of my hostess to falter more than once, while telling
+this simple and dream-like story of her childhood. I could see by the
+night-lights too that her bright eyes sometimes became brighter and
+sometimes dimmer; both of which circumstances made it only the more
+pleasant for me to sit and listen to her words.
+
+'There were no letters,' she said, found in his possession from which
+they could learn his name. There were no writings of any kind, except a
+bundle of old papers, which she had looked into, but they seemed to be
+only disconnected thoughts and memoranda of events and feelings, and threw
+no light on his history. At my request she produced a lamp and spread out
+the papers on the table. I turned over the worn and time-stained
+manuscripts; but the leaves were loose, unnumbered, and put together at
+random, and it was some time before I could find a place to begin at.
+
+At length, however, I managed to bring a few sheets in juxtaposition,
+such, that with a little stretch of the imagination I could discern a
+slight connection between them. And thus, by dim lamp-light, alone, with
+the silence of night around, and the old house lifting up its dark and
+shadowy form in the distance, I read some of the old man's papers.
+
+Those which I read I took the liberty of putting into my portmanteau,
+arguing that though they might be of no use to me, they certainly would be
+of none to their present possessors. Some of these papers having appeared
+in the KNICKERBOCKER, and met with 'acceptance bounteous,' I am induced to
+transcribe for the edification of the reader, a portion of the
+autobiography of the writer. It is contained in the last chapter, or
+sheet, and is written in a different and more aged hand than the rest; and
+gives the 'moving why' of the old man, in isolating himself from his kind,
+in one of the great green deserts of the West, 'for which the speech of
+England hath no name.'
+
+
+A DREAM OF YOUTH.
+
+Sixty years old! Many sorrows, many storms encountered, both within and
+without, and much journeying along the road of life, have left their
+traces on my features and on my head; but I am thankful that they have not
+touched my heart. I live alone, but not solitary; for I hold daily
+communion with the absent and beloved; communion also, sad but sweet, with
+the departed. The forms of those once hated too, are ready to rise up at
+my bidding; but they are never summoned. For I wish all within me to be
+gentleness and repose; and it ill becomes me on this my last failing
+foothold on the verge of the grave, to allow thoughts of hatred to stir up
+the turbid waters of bitterness which have been slumbering so many years
+in my heart.
+
+So I stand up here calmly at the end of my journey, and look back on the
+path which I have trodden. And what a path! Far back it runs, growing
+fainter and narrower, till I lose sight of it, an indistinct line, in the
+distance. I shall not say how many steep hills it crosses, where it might
+better have kept in the plains; how many deviations it makes from a
+straight course, apparently for the sole purpose of wandering through
+difficult places; or how often it runs along over burning sandy deserts,
+parallel with, and but a few steps from, the verge of a cool and pleasant
+meadow. I shall say nothing of this; for of the million of paths that
+intersect this vast plain of Life, there is probably not one which, when
+the traveller looks back upon it, does not like mine seem marked out by
+the veriest caprice of chance. Each one gropes its way along, like the
+crooked track of a blind man; and when it would appear the easier and
+almost the only way to keep on up the gentle eminence, whereon might have
+been found renown and happiness, by that same constant fatality, it
+suddenly turns short off to one side, plunges down into the rocky ravine,
+and pants on, for many a weary mile. That man shapes not his own ends, is
+a truth which I felt long since, and which each day's experience brings
+home to me with the freshness of a new discovery. It is a truth which
+rises up and mocks us, when we sit down to calculate or plan for the
+future; and it almost staggers our confidence in the connection between
+human means and the desired result.
+
+But what a path! Proceeding out of the darkness of morning, it struggles
+through a brief day, sometimes in sunshine, and sometimes in shade, and
+ends in the darkness of night. I glance along it, and the care-worn faces
+of the companions of my manhood rise up, on either side, and farther back,
+the speaking countenances of the friends of my youth. It is but a narrow
+space, the land of Youth, and soon passed; but pleasant, and full of
+images of beauty. The sun is not so bright and hot upon it as on some
+other parts of the path; but we do not expect happiness in the garish
+light of mid-day and reality. The mellowness of a summer evening sunset
+lays on it, and thereby it becomes a fa�ry land, a land of bliss and
+dreams. How throng up, as I gaze, the forms of those early and best-loved
+friends! How distinct and life-like, even at this distance, are their
+characters and features! They are all there; not one name has been erased,
+and not one picture dimmed, on the tablet of memory. The same warm smile
+of kindling pleasure greets me; the same hands are thrown out, as if to
+touch my own; and those bright eyes grow brighter as they are turned
+toward me.
+
+It is with such companions that I spend the last days of my earthly
+pilgrimage; and thus, as I said before, though alone I am not solitary. Is
+not such companionship sweet? When they visit me, I throw off old age, as
+a garment. Smiling thoughts come gently over me, and life and happiness,
+as of wont, course like the mad blood of fever through my veins. I feel
+over again those old feelings, repass through those same scenes, and my
+heart beats faster or grows pale in the same places and in the same manner
+as it once did. The old fields and houses and roads come up too, clothed
+at my command, in the snows of winter, or in the beauty of summer. Old
+scenes, but still fresh and young; and I am sometimes tempted to believe
+that the intervening years have been the illusion of a dream, and that I
+am awakening in their midst.
+
+All this, some will say, is the weakness of age. It seems to me to be
+rather its strength. The future in life is nothing; and what is the bare
+present to any one? The past, then, alone is left me. And if by living in
+it I can keep my affections alive, instead of letting their fires,
+according to the course of nature, or rather of custom, die down into cold
+ashes, I do not call myself weak if I do as much as possible forget the
+present.
+
+I had, when I was young, many dreams; such as I dare say all have. They
+seem such to me now, only not at all shadowy. On the contrary, they become
+more and more like reality as my distance from them increases, while their
+hues are as well marked and distinct as ever. Many and bright; but the
+brightest of all, the dream of my youth, is that which flashes across my
+recollection, when there comes into my heart the thought of my cousin
+Jane!
+
+My cousin JANE! Her form comes up before me, light and elastic and joyous,
+as though summoned for the first time, and as though it had not been my
+daily visitor for many a long year. Time writes no wrinkle on thy snowy
+brow, my first love! That glad smile knows no weariness, and I know no
+weariness in gazing on it. Those deep eyes, full of feeling; those soft
+words that thrill; I see and hear and feel them now, as I saw and heard
+and felt them first. Wilt thou never be tired of looking up to me, with
+that sweet, timid, confiding, tearful glance? Will the rising flush of thy
+cheek and thy subdued smile, be always fresh as now, and as in that hour
+when first we met? Thou hast been my companion, my unmurmuring,
+ever-present, unchanging companion, through many a dark time and stormy
+scene; and thou and the heart in which thou livest will die together.
+
+We met, my cousin Jane and I, when she was just putting on womanhood; had
+begun to find out the depths of her own heart, to doubt whether those
+depths ever could be filled, and to feel that unless they were, life would
+be but a blank. Not that there were not many willing enough to love her
+and be loved; the beauty of her form and character drew around her a crowd
+of admirers. But among them all, her nice perception saw that there was
+not one, of whom the exterior did not form by far the largest part of the
+man. Her admirers were good, honorable men; she respected and esteemed
+them; but still, gentle and timid and humble as she was, without knowing
+why, she felt that there was an impassable gulf between her and them.
+Their thoughts were not like her thoughts. Her social disposition led her
+much into their way, and though she tried to avoid it, she was told more
+than once, that the happiness or misery of her devoted lover depended on
+her smiles. It was a painful situation for one of her retiring and
+benevolent disposition, to be sure; and it is doubtful to which of the
+two, the lover or the mistress, every such rejection caused the keenest
+pang.
+
+But this was not the end of it. Malice soon prefixed to her name the
+epithet scornful; and among her school-girl friends there were some who
+always passed by on the other side. Poor girl! She wept bitter tears over
+these sneers and slights, for she had not studied the world enough to
+learn and despise its despicable things. Even then, dear girl! too, she
+tried to love all the world, that is, all her native village. And she
+succeeded, at least far enough to forgive them all, and thus to feel her
+own mind at peace and resigned. But there was a tinge of sadness left on
+her Grecian face after all; for to the young, when the out-stretched hand
+of kindly feeling is coldly put aside, the grief is as great as though the
+repulse were deserved.
+
+And I--I hardly know what I was, when I first saw my cousin. I was without
+father or mother; the world seemed wide and rather cheerless; and there
+was a settled impression on my mind, that it was my business to glide
+along through life, calmly and noiselessly; attach my affections to no
+external object; exist without being the cause of joy, and die without
+being the cause of tears, to any human being. I came and took up my abode
+in the pleasant village where my uncle resided, and set down to gain some
+knowledge of that noble science, civil law. I took up the study, not
+because I had any intention of engaging in the active duties of the
+profession, but for the name's sake, and because I loved it for itself. My
+uncle, he was a kind, good man, showed himself a father to me, took me
+into his family, tried to encourage and rouse me; and for his kindness,
+though it failed of its end, he had at the time, and has always had, my
+sincere though unexpressed thanks.
+
+I had hardly become acquainted with my relatives, uncle, aunt, and their
+three children, when I entered my office, shut the door, and immersed
+myself in books and my own thoughts. That those thoughts were not of the
+most joyous nature, I need hardly say. Still, looking back to that period,
+from where I stand now, I cannot say they were misanthropic. If I did not
+love all my species, it was because I saw nothing lovely in any body; but
+I did not hate them. I felt that I was an insignificant, an unnoticeable
+drop in the great world; that it was my misfortune to be so constituted as
+to be incapable of uniting closely and mingling with other drops; and
+that, without offending my neighbors, it would be my duty and pleasure to
+keep myself distinct from the rest, and hidden in some obscure corner. In
+one word, the prevailing feeling was, that nobody cared for me, and I
+cared for nobody.
+
+And yet, strange as it may appear, I was far from being unhappy.
+Sometimes, it is true, my in-turned thoughts became weary, and pined for
+human fellowship; and I grew sick at heart, as I contemplated the future,
+a vast, dry, waste, desolate desert of parched sand, over which I must
+toil and thirst, without one single being to speak a word of kindness, or
+give me a drop of water. But these were fits, fits of wildness, I called
+them, and seldom lasted long. And when they came over me, one attempt to
+link my sympathies with others was always sufficient to throw me back into
+a state of mind harder and colder than before. For it was so fated, that
+all my overtures, and they were not many, were met with open repulse or
+wary suspicion. It is true, suspicion is a necessary ingredient in human
+character; but I did not think of this then, and so it had the same effect
+as though I had found, indeed I thought I _had_ found, that coldness and
+insensibility were the prominent characteristics of the race.
+
+And yet, as I said before, I was not unhappy. If there was no happiness,
+there was at least no unhappiness, in sitting down for hours, and brooding
+over my own idiosyncrasies. It made me proud, to see and despise the
+weakness of others; and it gave me stern joy, to walk about and feel that
+there was a kind of armed neutrality between them and me. By degrees there
+arose, also, a gloomy pleasure in dwelling on, and picturing in deeper
+colors, the failings and baseness of my neighbors. Humble and weak as I
+knew myself to be, I exulted in my strength, because there were some still
+more weak and humble. Far back as my recollection ran, there had never
+been any thing in the world that seemed to me worthy of very much exertion
+or toil to obtain; but now I first learned to despise others for
+possessing feeble energies, as well as for directing them to the
+attainment of little objects. I am afraid, if left to myself, I should
+have hardened into a genuine hater; but I was not left to myself.
+
+I have mentioned my uncle's kindness; his whole family were not less kind.
+My cousin Jane, especially, saw that I was silent, and fancied that I was
+unhappy, and tried, by a thousand little devices and arts, to lull me into
+forgetfulness of myself, and entice me into a more sociable frame of mind.
+I will not say that I was insensible to her enticements; I rather liked
+her, she was so gentle and mild and considerate. There was an air of truth
+and simplicity about her; she would sit herself down so cheerfully to
+amuse me, and there was such a sparkle in her blue eyes when, as she said,
+I condescended to interest myself in her little affairs, that I began, at
+length, to love to be with her. But proud as I was, when I viewed mankind
+at a distance, I no sooner came in contact with any one, who was not
+immeasurably beneath me, than I felt myself sinking immeasurably beneath
+him; and so, like a fool as I was, I fancied that all my cousin's kindness
+was the result of her sense of duty to her relation; or, what was worse,
+of pity for his moroseness. This faint suspicion became, in a little
+while, a strong certainty; and I confined myself more closely to my books,
+and looked into my cousin's guileless, enthusiastic face, with coldness.
+
+I had known her now a year, and yet I hardly knew her at all; for I had
+seen her scarcely ever, except when it was impossible to avoid it, and
+those occasions were not frequent or long enough to enable me to learn
+perfectly her mind and character. From every such meeting, I went away
+resolved to see her no more in future; which resolution was sure to be
+overruled by second and more bitter thoughts. How I lived during that
+year, I scarcely know; or how it was that I grew uneasy away from her, and
+frequently surprised myself courting her society. But as time rolled on,
+so it was. There was a fascination about her, the magic of which was, that
+it charmed to sleep my vigilant suspicion. I did not perceive any change
+in myself, when night after night I was with her, talking to her about
+poetry, beauty, love, and the thousand themes that interest the
+unrestrained youthful heart; or that I was different from what I used to
+be, when I listened to her, with a gush of pleasure, as she spoke at once
+with lips and eyes, and in speaking, disclosed the unimagined riches of
+her mind and heart. So gradual was the change, that I was wholly unaware
+of it.
+
+But of one thing I was aware; the face of nature and of man underwent a
+strange and sudden change in appearance. I looked into the face of my
+neighbor, and lo, he was my brother! The fire of benevolence and sympathy
+warmed every vein, and a new life animated every nerve within me. I felt
+no longer that I was alone, but that indissoluble cords bound me to the
+whole human family, to every being in whose nostrils was the breath of
+life; and that for his good, as well as for my own, it was my business to
+labor. New motives of action, (or rather motives of action, for there were
+none before,) were set before me; and I felt light of heart and wing;
+eager to bound forward and lend the strength of my arm to the cause of the
+race. The face of nature too was altered. Every part that came within the
+range of my vision, her seasons, her vestments in winter and summer, her
+sunshine and clouds, each one was a melody, and all together made harmony.
+Still, I was scarcely sensible that I was different from what I was a year
+ago; for at each period I felt that I was in my natural and proper state
+of mind. So slight are the influences necessary to turn the young heart
+into the permanent channel of selfishness, hatred and unhappiness, or into
+that of love and peace!
+
+It was not long before I found out that I loved my cousin Jane. How I
+first discovered it I do not remember; but I do remember a firm and
+abiding resolution, even then, that I would not love her. I sat down by
+her side, I listened to her music, with that distinct impression. I would
+not for the world have had any body suspect my feelings, because I was
+ashamed of the weakness. I had persuaded myself, and could not convince
+myself to the contrary, that there was no hope of her returning my
+passion. And yet, with the words on my lips, 'This is folly--I will not!'
+I yielded myself to the delicious current, forgot all the world and
+myself, and in the intoxication of the hour, saw visions and dreamed
+dreams.
+
+But there came a shock; one which awoke me from a trance like that of the
+Opium-eater. It was when I saw that my cousin's smiles and attentions were
+not all devoted to me. There was another, a young man of promise and
+expectations, a year or two my senior, and far beyond me in the graces and
+polish of society, who had lately become intimate in my uncle's family.
+Engaged in the same pursuits, and being much with him, I had rather liked
+him; in fact I liked him very much. He had seen, admired, and in less than
+six months, _loved_ my Cousin Jane: this I knew, for jealousy is
+keen-eyed. You will not wonder then that I hated him; not on his own
+account--alter his feelings toward her, and I should have felt toward him
+as before; but on account of his love--hated him with a deadly hatred.
+
+It would be useless to tell how often I have sat down and watched them,
+when my cousin's sensitive countenance would brighten at his bright
+thoughts, or burst forth into a merry laugh at his brilliant wit and ready
+repartee; or how often the iron has entered into my soul when I have seen
+her hang on his arm, and listen in breathless attention to his lightest
+word, and testify in a thousand ways her pleasure at his coming, and in
+his presence. And _he_, he looked on me with the most immovable
+indifference. He did not seem to consider me worthy of his attention; even
+as a rival. He went straight forward, calmly and quietly, as though I had
+not existed; and if he ever glanced at my pretensions, it was perhaps with
+a smile of confident success. I knew he loved her; I fancied that she
+loved him, and I hated them both for it.
+
+I went into my office one day--if it were not part of the dream I would
+not tell it--in a state of partial insanity. I knew, saw, heard, felt
+nothing but one unalterable purpose of revenge. There happened to be a
+small pistol lying in the back room; I took it up, and carefully loaded
+it; loaded it without the tremor of a single muscle, for my heart was
+lead. I put it into my pocket, and walked the streets up and down, an hour
+or two, or it may have been four hours. I did not take count of the time.
+The heavens reeled above me, and the earth reeled beneath. At last he
+came. A thrill, the first that day, a thrill of triumph ran through my
+whole frame. When we met I stopped and took hold of the pistol in my
+pocket, but had not power to draw my hand out again; the strings of
+volition seemed broken. He stopped also; looked at me in some surprise;
+made a remark that I 'did not appear to be well,' and passed on. I looked
+after him, sick at heart with revenge deferred, and cursed my own
+pusillanimity.
+
+Well, well, we will let that pass. I had yielded my soul to the Author of
+Hatred for a time; but we will let it pass, and strive to forget it; I
+have been trying to ever since; I hope I shall succeed better in future.
+It is pleasant if we can think that the results of our evil passions do
+not extend beyond ourselves; and to me, it is pleasant to think that I did
+not break my gentle cousin's heart, by letting her know that she had
+nearly driven me mad.
+
+It was a month after this. How the intervening time had been spent, in
+what thoughts, and hopes, and fears, it would not be profitable to tell,
+or to recollect. I was sitting one evening by my cousin's side; it was
+growing late, and we were alone. I had been heated, as though with wine,
+and had probably talked incoherently. The conversation turned on that
+never-failing theme, love. She delighted to hear me speak on that subject;
+she said I spoke eloquently. If eloquence consists in earnestness, no
+doubt I did. It began in sportiveness, but before long became deeply
+serious and interesting.
+
+'And you do not believe, my grave cousin,' said she, in her own
+half-jesting, wholly earnest way, 'that a woman can love as deeply and
+long as the man who loves her?'
+
+'Bah!' said I, bitterly, 'women sometimes, like men, are revengeful,
+proud, or ambitious, but it is on a smaller scale. Every thing about them,
+every feeling and impulse is on a small scale. Very good objects they make
+for men to love; because, when one _will_ be such a fool, it doesn't much
+matter where he places his affection.'
+
+The poor girl looked grieved, but responded with a semblance of gaiety
+nevertheless: 'Ah, you think so now, but you will be just such a fool
+yourself, one of these days; and then you will find out that it is
+necessary for a woman to have a soul; and more than that--that she has
+one.'
+
+'Much obliged for your flattering opinion,' said I. 'But see here, my
+bonny Jane, did it never enter into your innocent little heart to think
+how _you_ would love?'
+
+'Oh yes,' she answered quickly; 'but that is all guess-work. I don't know,
+because I haven't yet found a man to my taste.'
+
+Of course I knew that I could not be to her taste; but a plain man does
+not like to be told that he is ugly, though he may be perfectly conscious
+of the fact. And so this avowal, which was made with the most unthinking
+honesty and simplicity, while it added weight to my despair, by a very
+usual consequence, made me desperate.
+
+'You are certain,' I asked, after a pause, 'that you do not know what love
+is by experience?'
+
+'Perfectly,' she answered, half laughing.
+
+'And that you mean to know, some time?'
+
+'To be sure,' said she, 'when the right man and the right time come.'
+
+'I do not know,' said I, beginning slowly and calmly; but before the
+sentence was half completed, my voice and thoughts had escaped from under
+my control; 'I do not know who the right man for you may be, but I--_I_
+love you--love you--love you!'
+
+She looked at me for a few seconds, with a countenance filled with
+astonishment, not unmingled with alarm. She would have thought it a jest;
+but my manner probably convinced her that I was far from jesting. She
+tried to smile, but it was a painful effort, and she found it much easier
+to conceal her face in her hands and weep.
+
+My recollection of the subsequent events of that evening is extremely dim.
+There was a confused crowd of flying thoughts; many tears and much
+friendship on one side, and much love on the other. She had received me as
+I knew she would, and though by the confession there was a great weight
+removed from my breast, the anguish was not less intense. One thing,
+however, among the hurried occurrences of that hour, I did not lose sight
+of, and that was pride. She did not suspect at the time how much of my
+heart, not to say existence, was bound up in her, or how greatly both were
+affected by her answer.
+
+The closing scene of the interview is the one which I most love to
+remember. We were standing at the door, her hand in mine, a mournful smile
+on her lips, and a tear in her eye. That bright, gentle face was pale with
+sorrow, and pity, and pain, and above all with fear. I gazed on it a
+moment, but in that moment the picture was graven indelibly on my memory.
+The 'good night' was spoken; and that is the last time I ever saw my
+cousin Jane.
+
+The next morning I sat down at an inn by the way-side, several miles
+distant from home, and sent back a few lines of farewell:
+
+'My only beloved! You must pardon me for this note. The adieu of last
+evening was only for the night; I wish to say good bye this morning, for a
+longer time. Your answer to my suit was not unexpected; in fact, I knew it
+would be as it was; and it was only a fatality, a blind impulse, that
+drove me to make that disclosure. I fear that it has given you pain, and I
+beg you to forgive my thoughtlessness. And in turn, you may rest assured
+that I forgive you for all the anguish and sickness of spirit that I have
+suffered on your account. There is nothing to be forgiven; I know that you
+would not cause unhappiness to any one, and it has been my own folly and
+madness. But I promise not to lay it up in my heart against you. I promise
+that in future years, wherever my lot may be cast, you shall be in my
+memory, only my pure, sweet, innocent cousin. And so, blessings be on your
+head! I go forth a vagabond and a wanderer on the face of the earth. It is
+probable that you will never hear from me again; and I pray you to forget
+our last interview, that your thoughts may be only peace. I would live in
+your remembrance as I was when we first met. And do not think, because
+long years of silence and wide lands and many mountains divide us, that
+your cousin has forgotten you. Your image lives in his heart and can never
+die!'
+
+
+
+
+STANZAS WRITTEN IN INDISPOSITION.
+
+BY THE LATE WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK.
+
+
+  I.
+
+  The Spring is fair, when early flowers
+    Unfold them to the golden sun;
+  When, singing to the gladsome hours,
+    Blue streams through vernal meadows run;
+  When from the woods and from the sky
+    The birds their joyous anthems pour;
+  And Ocean, filled with melody,
+    Sends his glad billows to the shore.
+
+
+  II.
+
+  The Spring is sweet: its balmy breath
+    Is rapture to the wearied breast,
+  When vines with roses fondly wreathe,
+    Fann'd by soft breezes from the West;
+  When, opening by the cottage eave,
+    The earliest buds invite the bee;
+  And brooks their icy bondage leave,
+    To dance in music toward the sea.
+
+
+  III.
+
+  The Spring is gay: but to my heart
+    The glorious hues she used to wear,
+  As sunset clouds in gloom depart,
+    Have vanish'd in the empty air:
+  They move not now my spirit's wing,
+    As in the stainless days of yore:
+  The happy dreams they used to bring
+    Have pass'd--and they will come no more.
+
+
+  IV.
+
+  Not that those dreams have lost their sway--
+    Not that my heart hath lost its chords;
+  Still with affection tuned, they play,
+    And leap at friendship's kindly words;
+  But 'tis that to my languid eye
+    A _newness_ from life's scene hath flown,
+  Which once upon the open sky,
+    And o'er the teeming earth, was thrown.
+
+
+  V.
+
+  Yes! there IS _something_, which no more
+    In Nature's gorgeous round I find;
+  Something that charm'd in days of yore,
+    And filled with Sabbath peace my mind;
+  Which added lustre to the flower,
+    And verdure to the field and tree,
+  And wings to every sunny hour,
+    While roseate health remained with me!
+
+
+  VI.
+
+  But Time's stern wave hath roll'd along,
+    And now on Manhood's waste I stand,
+  And mourn young Fancy's faded throng
+    Of radiant hopes and visions bland;
+  Yet, kindling o'er my onward way,
+    The light of love divine I see,
+  And hear a voice which seems to say:
+    'Pilgrim! in Heaven there's rest for thee!'
+
+_May, 1832._
+
+
+
+
+DISGUISED DERIVATIVE WORDS IN ENGLISH.
+
+BY A NEW CONTRIBUTOR.
+
+
+Derivative words in English, as in other languages, are usually formed on
+regular principles. Some few of them, however, especially those derived
+from foreign languages, and coming into extensive use, are so corrupted or
+disguised, as greatly to obscure the derivation.
+
+The following are examples:
+
+1. CHURCH and KIRK: (Anglo-Sax. _circ_ and _cyric_, Germ. _kirche_, old
+Germ. _chirihha_, Gr. [Greek: kyriakon], as if _the Lord's house_, derived
+from [Greek: kyrios], _the Lord_, and this from [Greek: kyros], _power_,
+_authority_;) a Christian temple.
+
+2. CLOWN: (Lat. _col�nus_, from the root _col_, to cultivate;) a rustic.
+Compare Germ. _K�ln_ from Lat. _Colonia Agrippina_; also Lat. _patr�nus_
+from _pater_.
+
+3. DROPSY: (Fr. _hydropisie_, Portug. and Span. _hidropesia_, Ital.
+_idropisia_, Lat. _hydrops_ and _hydropisis_, Gr. [Greek: hydr�ps],
+derived from [Greek: hyd�r], water;) a corruption of _hydropsy_, an
+unnatural collection of water in the body.
+
+4. PARCHMENT: (Fr. _parchemin_, Portug. _pergaminho_, Span. _pergamino_,
+Ital. _pergamena_; also Germ. and Dutch _pergament_; Lat. _pergamena_,
+scil. _charta_, Gr. [Greek: Pergam�n�], scil. [Greek: Chart�], from
+_Pergamus_, a city of Asia Minor;) skin prepared for writing.
+
+5. PERIWIG and PERUKE: (Fr. _perruque_, Span. _peluca_, Ital. _parruca_;
+also Germ. _perrucke_, Dutch _parruik_, Swed. _peruk_, Dan. _perryk_, Tr.
+_percabhaic_, Gael. _pior-bhuic_; from Lat. _pilus_;) an artificial cap of
+hair.
+
+6. PRIEST: (Anglo-Sax. _priost_, _preost_, Germ. and Dutch _priester_,
+Iceland _prestr_, Dan. and Swed. _pr�st_; also old Fr. _prestre_, Fr.
+_pr�tre_, Portug. _presbytero_, Span. _presbitero_, Ital. _prete_, Latin
+_presbyter_, Gr. [Greek: presbyteros], comparative of [Greek: presbys],
+old;) one who officiates in sacred offices.
+
+7. RICKETS: (Fr. _rachitis_, Portug. _rachitis_, Span. _raquitis_, Lat.
+_rachitis_, Gr. [Greek: rhachitis], from [Greek: rhachis], the back or
+spine;) a disease of children.
+
+8. SCIATICA: (Fr. _sciatique_, Portug. _sciatica_, _ciatica_, Span.
+_ciatica_, Ital. _sciatica_, Lat. _ischias_, gen. _adis_, Gr. [Greek:
+ischias], gen. [Greek: ados], from [Greek: ischion], the hip;) the
+hip-gout.
+
+9. SUCH: (Anglo-Sax. _swilc_, Meso-Goth. _swaleiks_, old Germ. _sol�h_,
+Germ. _solcher_; composed of _swa_ or _so_, the ancient modal case of the
+demonstrative pronoun, and the ancient form of Eng. _like_;) a
+demonstrative adjective of quality, denoting _of that kind_ or _sort_.
+
+10. WHICH: (Anglo-Sax. _hulic_, _hwylc_, _hwilc_, _hwelc_, Meso-Goth.
+_hweleiks_, or _hwileiks_, old Germ. _huelih_, Germ. _welcher_; composed
+of _hwe_ or _hwin_, the ancient modal case of the interrogative pronoun,
+and the ancient form of Eng. _like_;) properly an interrogative adjective
+of quality, denoting _of what kind_ or _sort_? but in use an interrogative
+partitive adjective.
+
+11. WIG: a mutilation of the word _periwig_; see _periwig_ above.
+
+
+
+
+NEW-ENGLAND'S SABBATH BELLS.
+
+
+  I.
+
+  How sweet upon the morning air, the chime of Sabbath-bells,
+  As full and clear upon the ear the solemn music swells!
+  From many a church in sunny vale, and on the green hill side,
+  The jewels of New-England's crown, her glory and her pride.
+
+
+  II.
+
+  The busy hum of busy men, this morn forgets to wake,
+  In quiet deep the hushed winds sleep, as fearful they shall break
+  The holy silence which o'erspreads all nature like a spell,
+  With which in music sweet accords the Sabbath-morning bell.
+
+
+  III.
+
+  Those Sabbath-bells--they call us not to piles of mossy stone,
+  Temples of yore, with age now hoar, and ivy overgrown,
+  Through whose stained windows softly creeps a dim religious light,
+  Seeming as it were sanctified unto the Christian's sight.
+
+
+  IV.
+
+  Nor do they tell of royal courts, in which to worship GOD,
+  Where nobles gay in bright array bend to their monarch's nod;
+  No costly paintings please the eye, nor trappings rich and rare,
+  To draw the humble Christian's heart from sacred praise and prayer.
+
+
+  V.
+
+  But to the simple, hallowed fane, we turn our willing feet,
+  Where, rank unknown, the free alone in humble worship meet;
+  While 'Holiness unto the LORD' upon the walls we read,
+  No other ornament than this, no other record need.
+
+_New-Haven, May 10, 1844._                                          A.
+
+
+
+
+A PASSAGE
+
+FROM A LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN.
+
+BY THE AUTHOR OF THE SKETCH-BOOK.
+
+
+While the veteran Taric was making his wide circuit through the land, an
+expedition under Magued the renegado proceeded against the city of
+Cordova. The inhabitants of that ancient place had beheld the great army
+of Don Roderick spreading like an inundation over the plain of the
+Guadalquiver, and had felt confident that it must sweep the infidel
+invaders from the land. What then was their dismay, when scattered
+fugitives, wild with horror and affright, brought them tidings of the
+entire overthrow of that mighty host, and the disappearance of the king?
+In the midst of their consternation, the Gothic noble, Pelistes, arrived
+at their gates, haggard with fatigue of body and anguish of mind, and
+leading a remnant of his devoted cavaliers, who had survived the dreadful
+battle of the Guadalete. The people of Cordova knew the valiant and
+steadfast spirit of Pelistes, and rallied round him as a last hope.
+'Roderick is fallen,' cried they, 'and we have neither king nor captain:
+be unto us as a sovereign; take command of our city, and protect us in
+this hour of peril!'
+
+The heart of Pelistes was free from ambition, and was too much broken by
+grief to be flattered by the offer of command; but he felt above
+everything for the woes of his country, and was ready to assume any
+desperate service in her cause. 'Your city,' said he, 'is surrounded by
+walls and towers, and may yet check the progress of the foe. Promise to
+stand by me to the last, and I will undertake your defence.' The
+inhabitants all promised implicit obedience and devoted zeal: for what
+will not the inhabitants of a wealthy city promise and profess in a moment
+of alarm? The instant, however, that they heard of the approach of the
+Moslem troops, the wealthier citizens packed up their effects and fled to
+the mountains, or to the distant city of Toledo. Even the monks collected
+the riches of their convents and churches, and fled. Pelistes, though he
+saw himself thus deserted by those who had the greatest interest in the
+safety of the city, yet determined not to abandon its defence. He had
+still his faithful though scanty band of cavaliers, and a number of
+fugitives of the army; in all amounting to about four hundred men. He
+stationed guards, therefore, at the gates and in the towers, and made
+every preparation for a desperate resistance.
+
+In the mean time, the army of Moslems and apostate Christians advanced,
+under the command of the Greek renegado, Magued, and guided by the traitor
+Julian. While they were yet at some distance from the city, their scouts
+brought to them a shepherd, whom they had surprised on the banks of the
+Guadalquiver. The trembling hind was an inhabitant of Cordova, and
+revealed to them the state of the place, and the weakness of its garrison.
+
+'And the walls and gates,' said Magued, 'are they strong and well
+guarded?'
+
+'The walls are high, and of wondrous strength,' replied the shepherd; 'and
+soldiers hold watch at the gates by day and night. But there is one place
+where the city may be secretly entered. In a part of the wall, not far
+from the bridge, the battlements are broken, and there is a breach at some
+height from the ground. Hard by stands a fig tree, by the aid of which the
+wall may easily be scaled.'
+
+Having received this information, Magued halted with his army, and sent
+forward several renegado Christians, partizans of Count Julian, who
+entered Cordova as if flying before the enemy. On a dark and tempestuous
+night, the Moslems approached to the end of the bridge which crosses the
+Guadalquiver, and remained in ambush. Magued took a small party of chosen
+men, and, guided by the shepherd, forded the stream, and groped silently
+along the wall to the place where stood the fig tree. The traitors, who
+had fraudulently entered the city, were ready on the wall to render
+assistance. Magued ordered his followers to make use of the long folds of
+their turbans instead of cords, and succeeded without difficulty in
+clambering into the breach.
+
+Drawing their scimitars, they now hastened to the gate which opened toward
+the bridge; the guards, suspecting no assault from within, were taken by
+surprise, and easily overpowered; the gate was thrown open, and the army
+that had remained in ambush rushed over the bridge, and entered without
+opposition.
+
+The alarm had by this time spread throughout the city; but already a
+torrent of armed men was pouring through the streets. Pelistes sallied
+forth with his cavaliers and such of the soldiery as he could collect, and
+endeavored to repel the foe; but every effort was in vain. The Christians
+were slowly driven from street to street, and square to square, disputing
+every inch of ground; until, finding another body of the enemy approaching
+to attack them in the rear, they took refuge in a convent, and succeeded
+in throwing to and barring the ponderous doors. The Moors attempted to
+force the gates, but were assailed with such showers of missiles from the
+windows and battlements that they were obliged to retire. Pelistes
+examined the convent, and found it admirably calculated for defence. It
+was of great extent, with spacious courts and cloisters. The gates were
+massive, and secured with bolts and bars; the walls were of great
+thickness; the windows high and grated; there was a great tank or cistern
+of water, and the friars, who had fled from the city, had left behind a
+good supply of provisions. Here, then, Pelistes proposed to make a stand,
+and to endeavor to hold out until succor should arrive from some other
+city. His proposition was received with shouts by his loyal cavaliers; not
+one of whom but was ready to lay down his life in the service of his
+commander.
+
+For three long and anxious months did the good knight Pelistes and his
+cavaliers defend their sacred asylum against the repeated assaults of the
+infidels. The standard of the true faith was constantly displayed from the
+loftiest tower, and a fire blazed there throughout the night, as signals
+of distress to the surrounding country. The watchman from his turret kept
+a wary look out over the land, hoping in every cloud of dust to descry the
+glittering helms of Christian warriors. The country, however, was forlorn
+and abandoned, or if perchance a human being was perceived, it was some
+Arab horseman, careering the plain of the Guadalquiver as fearlessly as if
+it were his native desert.
+
+By degrees the provisions of the convent were consumed, and the cavaliers
+had to slay their horses, one by one, for food. They suffered the wasting
+miseries of famine without a murmur, and always met their commander with a
+smile. Pelistes, however, read their sufferings in their wan and emaciated
+countenances, and felt more for them than for himself. He was grieved at
+heart that such loyalty and valor should only lead to slavery or death,
+and resolved to make one desperate attempt for their deliverance.
+Assembling them one day in the court of the convent, he disclosed to them
+his purpose.
+
+'Comrades and brothers in arms,' said he, 'it is needless to conceal
+danger from brave men. Our case is desperate: our countrymen either know
+not or heed not our situation, or have not the means to help us. There is
+but one chance of escape; it is full of peril, and, as your leader, I
+claim the right to brave it. To-morrow at break of day I will sally forth
+and make for the city gates at the moment of their being opened; no one
+will suspect a solitary horseman; I shall be taken for one of those
+recreant Christians who have basely mingled with the enemy. If I succeed
+in getting out of the city, I will hasten to Toledo for assistance. In all
+events I shall be back in less than twenty days. Keep a vigilant look out
+toward the nearest mountain. If you behold five lights blazing upon its
+summit, be assured I am at hand with succor, and prepare yourselves to
+sally forth upon the city as I attack the gates. Should I fail in
+obtaining aid, I will return to die with you.'
+
+When he had finished, his warriors would fain have severally undertaken
+the enterprise, and they remonstrated against his exposing himself to such
+peril; but he was not to be shaken from his purpose. On the following
+morning, ere the break of day, his horse was led forth, caparisoned, into
+the court of the convent, and Pelistes appeared in complete armor.
+Assembling his cavaliers in tie chapel, he prayed with them for some time
+before the altar of the holy Virgin. Then rising, and standing in the
+midst of them, 'God knows, my companions,' said he, 'whether we have any
+longer a country; if not, better were we in our graves. Loyal and true
+have ye been to me, and loyal have ye been to my son, even to the hour of
+his death; and grieved am I that I have no other means of proving my love
+for you, than by adventuring my worthless life for your deliverance. All I
+ask of you before I go, is a solemn promise to defend yourselves to the
+last like brave men and Christian cavaliers, and never to renounce your
+faith, or throw yourselves on the mercy of the renegado Magued, or the
+traitor Julian.' They all pledged their words, and took a solemn oath to
+the same effect before the altar.
+
+Pelistes then embraced them one by one, and gave them his benediction, and
+as he did so his heart yearned over them, for he felt towards them, not
+merely as a companion in arms and as a commander, but as a father; and he
+took leave of them as if he had been going to his death. The warriors, on
+their part, crowded round him in silence, kissing his hands and the hem of
+his surcoat, and many of the sternest shed tears.
+
+The gray of the dawning had just streaked the east, when Pelistes took
+lance in hand, hung his shield about his neck, and, mounting his steed,
+issued quietly forth from a postern of the convent. He paced slowly
+through the vacant streets, and the tramp of his steed echoed afar in that
+silent hour; but no one suspected a warrior, moving thus singly and
+tranquilly in an armed city, to be an enemy. He arrived at the gate just
+at the hour of opening; a foraging party was entering with cattle and with
+beasts of burthen, and he passed unheeded through the throng. As soon as
+he was out of sight of the soldiers who guarded the gate, he quickened his
+pace, and at length, galloping at full speed, succeeded in gaining the
+mountains. Here he paused, and alighted at a solitary farm-house to
+breathe his panting steed; but had scarce put foot to ground when he heard
+the distant sound of pursuit, and beheld a horseman spurring up the
+mountain.
+
+Throwing himself again upon his steed, he abandoned the road and galloped
+across the rugged heights. The deep dry channel of a torrent checked his
+career, and his horse, stumbling upon the margin, rolled with his rider to
+the bottom. Pelistes was sorely bruised by the fall, and his whole visage
+was bathed in blood. His horse, too, was maimed and unable to stand, so
+that there was no hope of escape. The enemy drew near, and proved to be no
+other than Magued, the renegado general, who had perceived him as he
+issued forth from the city, and had followed singly in pursuit. 'Well met,
+se�or alcayde!' exclaimed he, 'and overtaken in good time. Surrender
+yourself my prisoner.'
+
+Pelistes made no other reply than by drawing his sword, bracing his
+shield, and preparing for defence. Magued, though an apostate, and a
+fierce warrior, possessed some sparks of knightly magnanimity. Seeing his
+adversary dismounted, he disdained to take him at a disadvantage, but
+alighting, tied his horse to a tree.
+
+The conflict that ensued was desperate and doubtful, for seldom had two
+warriors met so well matched or of equal prowess. Their shields were
+hacked to pieces, the ground was strewed with fragments of their armor,
+and stained with their blood. They paused repeatedly to take breath;
+regarding each other with wonder and admiration. Pelistes, however, had
+been previously injured by his fall, and fought to great disadvantage. The
+renegado perceived it, and sought not to slay him, but to take him alive.
+Shifting his ground continually, he wearied his antagonist, who was
+growing weaker and weaker from the loss of blood. At length Pelistes
+seemed to summon up all his remaining strength to make a signal blow; it
+was skilfully parried and he fell prostrate upon the ground. The renegado
+ran up, and, putting his foot upon his sword, and the point of his
+scimitar to his throat, called upon him to ask his life; but Pelistes lay
+without sense, and as one dead. Magued then unlaced the helmet of his
+vanquished enemy and seated himself on a rock beside him, to recover
+breath. In this situation the warriors were found by certain Moorish
+cavaliers, who marvelled much at the traces of that stern and bloody
+combat.
+
+Finding there was yet life in the Christian knight, they laid him upon one
+of their horses, and, aiding Magued to remount his steed, proceeded slowly
+to the city. As the convoy passed by the convent, the cavaliers looked
+forth and beheld their commander borne along bleeding and a captive.
+Furious at the sight, they sallied forth to the rescue, but were repulsed
+by a superior force, and driven back to the great portal of the church.
+The enemy entered pell mell with them, fighting from aisle to aisle, from
+altar to altar, and in the courts and cloisters of the convent. The
+greater part of the cavaliers died bravely, sword in hand; the rest were
+disabled with wounds and made prisoners. The convent, which was lately
+their castle, was now made their prison, and in after-times, in
+commemoration of this event, was consecrated by the name of St. George of
+the Captives.
+
+The loyalty and the prowess of the good knight Pelistes had gained him the
+reverence even of his enemies. He was for a long time disabled by his
+wounds, during which he was kindly treated by the Arab chieftains, who
+strove by every courteous means to cheer his sadness and make him forget
+that he was a captive. When he was recovered from his wounds they gave him
+a magnificent banquet to testify their admiration of his virtues.
+
+Pelistes appeared at the banquet clad in sable armor, and with a
+countenance pale and dejected; for the ills of his country evermore preyed
+upon his heart. Among the assembled guests was Count Julian, who held a
+high command in the Moslem army, and was arrayed in garments of mingled
+Christian and Morisco fashion. Pelistes had been a close and bosom friend
+of Julian in former times, and had served with him in the wars in Africa;
+but when the count advanced to accost him with his wonted amity, he turned
+away in silence, and deigned not to notice him; neither during the whole
+of the repast did he address to him ever a word, but treated him as one
+unknown.
+
+When the banquet was nearly at a close, the discourse turned upon the
+events of the war; and the Moslem chieftains, in great courtesy, dwelt
+upon the merits of many of the Christian cavaliers who had fallen in
+battle, and all extolled the valor of those who had recently perished in
+the defence of the convent. Pelistes remained silent for a time, and
+checked the grief which swelled within his bosom as he thought of his
+devoted cavaliers. At length, lifting up his voice, 'Happy are the dead,'
+said he, 'for they rest in peace, and are gone to receive the reward of
+their piety and valor! I could mourn over the loss of my companions in
+arms, but they have fallen with honor, and are spared the wretchedness I
+feel in witnessing the thraldom of my country. I have seen my only son,
+the pride and hope of my age, cut down at my side; I have beheld kindred
+friends and followers falling one by one around me, and have become so
+seasoned to those losses that I have ceased to weep. Yet there is one man
+over whose loss I will never cease to grieve. He was the loved companion
+of my youth, and the steadfast associate of my graver years. He was one of
+the most loyal of Christian knights. As a friend he was loving and
+sincere; as a warrior his achievements were above all praise. What has
+become of him, alas! I know not. If fallen in battle, and I knew where his
+bones were laid, whether bleaching on the plains of Xeres, or buried in
+the waters of the Gaudalete, I would seek them out and enshrine them as
+the relics of a sainted patriot. Or if, like many of his companions in
+arms, he should be driven to wander in foreign lands, I would join him in
+his hapless exile, and we would mourn together over the desolation of our
+country!'
+
+Even the hearts of the Arab warriors were touched by the lament of the
+good Pelistes, and they said: 'Who was this peerless friend, in whose
+praise thou art so fervent?'
+
+'His name,' replied Pelistes, 'was Count Julian.'
+
+The Moslem warriors stared with surprise. 'Noble cavalier,' exclaimed
+they, 'has grief disordered thy senses? Behold thy friend, living and
+standing before thee, and yet thou dost not know him! This, this is Count
+Julian!'
+
+Upon this, Pelistes turned his eyes upon the count, and regarded him for a
+time, with a lofty and stern demeanor; and the countenance of Julian
+darkened, and was troubled, and his eye sank beneath the regard of that
+loyal and honorable cavalier. And Pelistes said, 'In the name of God, I
+charge thee, man unknown! to answer. Dost thou presume to call thyself
+Count Julian?'
+
+The count reddened with anger at these words. 'Pelistes,' said he, 'what
+means this mockery? Thou knowest me well; thou knowest me for Count
+Julian?'
+
+'I know thee for a base imposter!' cried Pelistes. 'Count Julian was a
+noble Gothic knight; but thou appearest in mongrel Moorish garb. Count
+Julian was a Christian, faithful and devout; but I behold in thee a
+renegado and an infidel. Count Julian was ever loyal to his king, and
+foremost in his country's cause: were he living, he would be the first to
+put shield on neck and lance in rest, to clear the land of her invaders:
+but thou art a hoary traitor! thy hands are stained with the royal blood
+of the Goths, and thou hast betrayed thy country and thy God. Therefore, I
+again repeat, man unknown! if thou sayest thou art Count Julian, thou
+liest! My friend, alas! is dead; and thou art some fiend from hell, which
+has taken possession of his body to dishonor his memory and render him an
+abhorrence among men!' So saying, Pelistes turned his back upon the
+traitor, and went forth from the banquet; leaving Count Julian overwhelmed
+with confusion, and an object of scorn to all the Moslem cavaliers.
+
+
+
+
+ON SEEING A LADY WEEP OVER A NOSEGAY.
+
+
+  Though plucked from off the parent stems,
+    The flow'rs forget to die,
+  When Beauty all their leaves begems
+    With tears from her sweet eye.
+
+  There is a heart which throb'd to-day
+    To see thee weep alone.
+  And longed to wipe those drops away,
+    Or make that grief its own.
+
+                                                  PLUTARCH SHAW: 1844.
+
+
+
+
+LITERARY NOTICES.
+
+
+    LITERARY REMAINS OF THE LATE WILLIS GAYLORD CLARKE. Parts Three and
+    Four. New-York: BURGESS, STRINGER AND COMPANY.
+
+The reception given to our notice of this serial work in our last number,
+has emboldened us to refer to the issues which have since appeared,
+containing a copious variety of matter which will be new to great numbers
+of our readers. One of the best evidences of the _naturalness_ and ease of
+our author's writings, is to be found in the ready appreciation of them by
+all classes of readers. Whether the vein be a serious one, or the theme
+turn upon the humorous or the burlesque, it is not too much, we think, to
+say that the writer takes always with him the heart or the fancy of the
+reader. Without however pausing to characterize productions which bid fair
+to become very widely and favorably known, we shall venture, under favor
+of the reader, to present a few more extracts, 'which it is hoped may
+please.' The following illustration of a night-scene at the Kaatskill
+Mountain-House, on the evening of the Fourth of July, we can aver to be a
+faithful Daguerreotype sketch, for we saw it with the writer:
+
+    'Take my arm, and step forth with me from the piazza of the
+    Mountain-House. It is night. A few stars are peering from a dim
+    azure field of western sky; the high-soaring breeze, the breath of
+    heaven, makes a stilly music in the neighboring pines; the meek
+    crest of Dian rolls along the blue depths of ether, tinting with
+    silver lines the half dun, half fleecy clouds; they who are in the
+    parlors make 'considerable' noise; there is an individual at the
+    end of the portico discussing his quadruple julep, and another
+    devotedly sucking the end of a cane, as if it were full of
+    mother's milk; he hummeth also an air from _Il Pirata_, and
+    wonders, in the simplicity of his heart, 'why the devil that there
+    steam-boat from Albany doesn't begin to show its lights down on
+    the Hudson.' His companion of the glass, however, is intent on the
+    renewal thereof. Calling to him the chief 'help' of the place, he
+    says: 'Is that other antifogmatic ready?'
+
+    'No, Sir.'
+
+    'Well, now, person, what's the reason? What was my last
+    observation? Says I to you, says I, 'Make me a fourth of them
+    beverages;' and moreover, I added, 'Just you keep doing so; be
+    _constantly_ making them, till the order is countermanded.' Give
+    us another; go! vanish!--'disappear and appear!''
+
+    'The obsequious servant went; and returning with the desired
+    draught, observed, probably for the thousandth time: 'There!
+    that's what I call the true currency; them's the _ginooyne_
+    mint-drops; HA--_ha_--ha!'--these separate divisions of his
+    laughter coming out of his mouth at intervals of about half a
+    minute each.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    'There is a bench near the verge of the Platform, where, when you
+    sit at evening, the hollow-sounding air comes up from the vast
+    vale below, like the restless murmurs of the ocean. Anchor
+    yourself here for a while, reader, with me. It being the evening
+    of the national anniversary, a few patriotic individuals are
+    extremely busy in piling up a huge pyramid of dried pine branches,
+    barrels covered with tar, and kegs of spirits, to a height of some
+    fifteen or twenty feet--perhaps higher. A bonfire is premeditated.
+    You shall see anon, how the flames will rise. The preparations are
+    completed; the fire is applied. Hear how it crackles and hisses!
+    Slowly but spitefully it mounts from limb to limb, and from one
+    combustible to another, until the whole welkin is a-blaze, and
+    shaking as with thunder! It is a beautiful sight. The gush of
+    unwonted radiance rolls in effulgent surges adown the vale. How
+    the owl hoots with surprise at the interrupting light! Bird of
+    wisdom, it is the Fourth! and you may well add your voice to swell
+    the choral honors of the time. How the tall old pines, withered by
+    the biting scathe of Eld, rise to the view, afar and near; white
+    shafts, bottomed in darkness, and standing like the serried spears
+    of an innumerable army! The groups around the beacon are gathered
+    together, but are forced to enlarge the circle of their
+    acquaintance, by the growing intensity of the increasing blaze.
+    Some of them, being ladies, their white robes waving in the
+    mountain breeze, and the light shining full upon them, present,
+    you observe, a beautiful appearance. The pale pillars of the
+    portico flash fitfully into view, now seen and gone, like columns
+    of mist. The swarthy African who kindled the fire regards it with
+    perspiring face and grinning ivories; and lo! the man who hath
+    mastered the quintupled glass of metamorphosed _eau-de-vie_,
+    standing by the towering pile of flame, and, reaching his hand on
+    high, he smiteth therewith his sinister pap, with a most hollow
+    sound; the knell, as it were of his departing reason. In short, he
+    is making an oration!
+
+    'Listen to those voiceful currents of air, traversing the vast
+    profound below the Platform! What a mighty circumference do they
+    sweep! Over how many towns, and dwellings, and streams, and
+    incommunicable woods! Murmurs of the dark, sources and awakeners
+    of sublime imagination, swell from afar. You have thoughts of
+    eternity and power here, which shall haunt you evermore. But we
+    must be early stirrers in the morning. Let us to bed.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    'You can lie on your pillow at the Kaatskill House, and see the
+    god of day look upon you from behind the pinnacles of the White
+    Mountains in New Hampshire, hundreds of miles away. Noble
+    prospect! As the great orb heaves up in ineffable grandeur, he
+    seems rising from beneath you, and you fancy that you have
+    attained an elevation where may be seen _the motion of the world_.
+    No intervening land to limit the view, you seem suspended in
+    mid-air, without one obstacle to check the eye. The scene is
+    indescribable. The chequered and interminable vale, sprinkled with
+    groves, and lakes, and towns, and streams; the mountains afar off,
+    swelling tumultuously heavenward, like waves of the ocean, some
+    incarnadined with radiance, others purpled in shade; all these, to
+    use the language of an auctioneer's advertisement, 'are too
+    tedious to mention, but may be seen on the premises.' I know of
+    but one picture which will give the reader an idea of this
+    etherial spot. It was the view which the angel Michael was polite
+    enough, one summer morning, to point out to Adam, from the highest
+    hill of Paradise.'
+
+Many and many a young father will recognize, in the following, his own
+emotions, as he looks in moments of thoughtfulness upon the little
+'olive-branches' around him, in whom he lives over again his own earliest
+years:
+
+    'To those who are disposed to glean philosophy from the mayhap
+    less noticeable objects of this busy world, there are few sights
+    more lovely than childhood. The little cherub who now sits at my
+    knee, and tries, with tiny effort, to clutch the quill with which
+    I am playing for you, good reader; whose capricious taste, varying
+    from ink-stand to paper, and from that to books, and every other
+    portable thing--all 'moveables that I could tell you of'--he has
+    in his little person those elements which constitute both the
+    freshness of our sublunary mortality, and that glorious
+    immortality which the mortal shall yet put on. Gazing upon his
+    fair young brow, his peach-like cheek, and the depths of those
+    violet eyes, I feel myself rejuvenated. That which bothered
+    Nicodemus, is no marvel to me. I feel that I have a new existence;
+    nor can I dispel the illusion. It is harder, indeed, to believe
+    that he will ever be what I am, than that I am otherwise than he
+    is now. I can not imagine that he will ever become a pilous adult,
+    with harvests for the razor on that downy chin. Will those golden
+    locks become the brown auburn? Will that forehead rise as a varied
+    and shade-changing record of pleasure or care? Will the classic
+    little lips, now colored as by the radiance of a ruby, ever be
+    fitfully bitten in the glow of literary composition!--and will
+    those sun-bright locks, which hang about his temples like the soft
+    lining of a summer cloud, become meshes where hurried fingers
+    shall thread themselves in play? By the mass, I can not tell. But
+    this I know. That which hath been, shall be: the lot of manhood,
+    if he live, will be upon him; the charm, the obstacle, the
+    triumphant fever; the glory, the success, the far-reaching
+    thoughts,
+
+      'That make them eagle wings
+      To pierce the unborn years.'
+
+The 'Ollapodiana' papers are concluded in the third number, and a portion
+of the issue is devoted to the commencement of the 'Miscellaneous Prose
+Papers' of the writer, which are both numerous and various, 'A Chapter on
+Cats' records an amusing story, replete with incident, which turns upon
+the deplorable consequences, in one sad instance at least, of cat-killing.
+An illustrative although not satisfactory passage is subjoined:
+
+    'I am subject, in summer, to restlessness. Thick-coming fancies
+    mar my rest, and my ear is peculiarly sensitive to the least
+    inappropriate sound. One sultry evening in July, I returned home
+    later than usual, from an arbitration, wherein I lost a cause on
+    which I had counted certainly to win. I suspect I bored the
+    arbitrators with too long a plea, and too voluminous quotations of
+    precedents; for when I finished, two were asleep, and most of the
+    others yawning. They decided against my client, and I came home
+    mad with chagrin, and crept into bed, longing for speedy oblivion
+    in the arms of Sleep.
+
+    'But that calm sister of Death would not be won to my embrace. I
+    lay tossing for a long time in 'restless ecstacy,' until vexed and
+    overwearied nature at last sunk to repose. I could not have
+    slumbered over ten minutes, before I was awakened by the most
+    outrageous caterwauling that ever stung the human ear. I arose in
+    a fury, and looked out of the window. All was still. The cause for
+    outcry appeared to have ceased. Now and then there was a low
+    gutteral wail, between a suppressed grunt and a squeal; but it was
+    so faint that nothing could have lived 'twixt that and silence.
+    After a listening probation of a few minutes, I slunk back into my
+    sheets.
+
+    'I had scarcely dozed a quarter of an hour, when the obnoxious
+    vociferations arose again. They were fierce, ill-natured, and
+    shrill. I arose again, vexed beyond endurance. All was quiet in a
+    moment. I am not given to profanity; I deem it foolish and wicked;
+    but on this occasion, after stretching my body like a sheeted
+    ghost, half out of the window, and gazing into the shadows of the
+    garden to discover the object of my annoyance, I exclaimed in a
+    loud and spiteful voice, which expressed my concentrated hate:
+
+    ----'_D--n that cat!_'
+
+    ''Young gentleman,' said a passing guardian of the night, from the
+    street, 'you had better pop your head in and stop your noise. If
+    you don't, you will rue it; now mind-I-tell-ye.'
+
+    ''Look here, old Charley,' said I, in return, 'don't be
+    impertinent. It is your business to preserve the peace, and to
+    obviate every evil that looks disgracious in the city's eye. You
+    guard the slumbers of her citizens; and if you expect a dollar
+    from me at Christmas, for the poetry in your next annual address,
+    you will perform what I now request, and what it is your solemn
+    and bounded duty to do. Spring your rattle; comprehend that vagrom
+    cat, and take her to the watch-house, I will appear as plaintiff
+    against the quadruped, before the mayor, in the morning. Her
+    character is bad--her habits are scandalous.'
+
+    ''Oh, pshaw!' said the watchman, and went clattering up the
+    street, singing 'N'hav p-a-st dwelve o'glock, and a glowdee morn.'
+
+    'I reverted to my pillow, and fell into a train of conjectures
+    touching the grimalkin. Possibly it might be the darling old
+    friend of Miss Dillon. Then I thought of others--then I slept.
+
+    'I cannot declare to a second how long my fitful slumber lasted,
+    before I was startled from my bed by a yell, which proceeded
+    apparently from a cat in my room. I had just been dreaming of a
+    great mouser, with ears like a jackass, and claws, armed with long
+    'pickers and stingers,' sitting on my bosom, and sucking away my
+    breath. I sprang at once into the middle of the room. I searched
+    every where--nothing was in the apartment. Then there rushed
+    toward the zenith one universal cat-shriek, which went echoing off
+    on the night-wind like the reverberation of a sharp thunder-peal.
+
+    'My blood was now _up_ for vengeance. One hungry and fiery wish to
+    destroy that diabolical caterwauler, took possession of my soul.
+    At that instant the clock struck one. It was the death knell of
+    the feline vocalist. I looked out of the window, and in the light
+    of a stray lot of moonshine, streaming through the tall chimneys
+    to the south-east, I saw Miss Dillon's romantic favorite,
+    alternately cooing and fighting with a large mouser of the
+    neighborhood, that I had seen for several afternoons previous,
+    walking leisurely along the garden wall, as if absorbed in deep
+    meditation, and forming some libertine resolve. In fine, they each
+    seemed saturate with the spirit of the Gnome king, Umbriel, in the
+    drama, when he
+
+                      ----'stalked abroad
+      Urging the wolf to tear the buffalo.'
+
+    'The death of one of these noisy belligerents being determined on,
+    I looked round my room for the tools of retribution. Not a
+    moveable thing, however, could I discover, save a new pitcher,
+    which had been sent home that very day, and to which my name and
+    address were appended on a bit of card. I clutched it with
+    desperate fury, and pouring into my bowl the water contained in
+    it, I poised it in my hand for the deadly heave. I had been a
+    member of a quoit club in the country, and the principles of a
+    clever throw were familiar to me. I resolved to make the vessel
+    describe what is called in philosophy a _parabolic curve_, so that
+    while it knocked out the brains of one combatant, it should
+    effectually admonish the survivor of the iniquity of his doings. I
+    approached the window--balanced the pitcher--and then drave it
+    home. Its reception was acknowledged by a loud, choking squall--a
+    faint yell of agony, and then a respectful silence. Satisfied that
+    my pitcher had been broken at the fountain of life, and that the
+    silent tabby would not soon tune her pipes again, I retired to
+    bed, and slept with the serenity and comfort of one who is
+    conscious of having performed a virtuous action.
+
+    'In the morning, the cat was found 'keeled up' on a bed of pinks,
+    with her head broken in, and her ancient and venerable whiskers
+    dabbled in blood. The shattered pitcher lay by her side. The
+    vessel had done its worst--so had my victim.'
+
+The story proper, upon the consecutive incidents of which we shall not
+touch, closes with the annexed whimsical anecdote:
+
+    'An anonymous wag not long ago, placed an advertisement in each of
+    our city journals, signed by an eminent house on the Delaware
+    wharf, and stating that FIVE HUNDRED CATS were wanted immediately
+    by the firm. The said firm in the meantime knew nothing of the
+    matter.
+
+    'On visiting their counting-house the next morning, the partners
+    found the streets literally blocked up with enterprising
+    cat-sellers. Huge negroes were there, each with ten or fifteen
+    sage, grave tabbies tied together with a string. Old market-women
+    had brought thither whole families of the feline genus, from the
+    superannuated _Tom_, to the blind kitten. The air resounded with
+    the squallings of the quadrupedal multitude. New venders, with
+    their noisy property, were seen thronging to the place from every
+    avenue.
+
+    ''What'll you _guv_ me for this 'ere lot?' said a tall shad-woman,
+    pressing up toward the counting-room. 'The newspapers says you
+    allows liberal prices. I axes a dollar a piece for the old 'uns,
+    and five levys for the kittens.'
+
+    ''You have been fooled,' said the chief partner, who appeared with
+    a look of dismay at the door, and was obliged to speak as loud
+    amid the din as a sea-captain in a storm. 'I want no cats. I have
+    no use for them. I could not eat them. I couldn't sell them. I
+    never advertised for them.'
+
+    'A decided mendicant, a member of the great family of loafers,
+    with a red, _bulgy_ nose, and bloated cheeks, who had three cats
+    tied to a string in his hand, now mounted a cotton bale, and
+    producing a newspaper, spelt the advertisement through as audibly
+    as he could under the circumstances, demanding of the assembly as
+    he closed, 'if that there advertysement wasn't a true bill?' An
+    unanimous 'Sarting!' echoed through the crowd. Encouraged by the
+    electric response, the loafer proceeded to make a short speech. He
+    touched upon the rights of trade, the liberty of the press, the
+    importance of fair dealing, and the benefits of printing; and
+    concluded by advising his hearers to go the death for their
+    rights, and 'not to stand no humbug.' Such was the effect of his
+    eloquence, that the firm against which he wielded his oratorical
+    thunder found it necessary to compromise matters by treating the
+    entire concourse to a hogshead of wine. 'The company separated at
+    an early hour,' consoled for the loss of their bargains and the
+    emptiness of their pockets by the lightsomeness of their heads and
+    hearts.'
+
+Let us hope that our readers will find, in the entire work from which we
+quote, ample reasons for the favor which it is receiving at the hands of
+the public.
+
+
+    MENTAL HYGIENE: OR AN EXAMINATION OF THE INTELLECT AND PASSIONS.
+    Designed to illustrate their Influence on Health and the Duration of
+    Life. By WILLIAM SWEETSER, M. D. In one volume. pp. 270. New-York: J.
+    AND H. G. LANGLEY.
+
+This is a work destined, as we can easily foresee, to produce great good.
+Its leading design, as its title implies, and as is stated indeed by the
+author in his preface, is to elucidate the influence of intellect and
+passion upon the health and endurance of the human organization; an
+influence which has been but imperfectly understood and appreciated in its
+character and importance, by mankind at large. The volume under notice is
+divided into two parts. Under the first are considered the intellectual
+operations in respect to their influence on the general functions of the
+body; under the second is embraced a view of the moral feelings or
+passions, in the relation which they also sustain to our physical nature.
+Of these a concise definition is offered, with such classification as is
+necessary to the leading design of the work. Their effects upon the
+different functions of the animal economy are next noticed; and a
+description is given of a few of the most important passions belonging to
+each of the three great classes; namely, pleasurable, painful and mixed,
+into which they are separated; their physical phenomena and individual
+influence on the well-being of the human mechanism being closely examined.
+A forcible exposition is also given of the evil consequences resulting
+from an ill-regulated imagination (acting through the instrumentality of
+the passions, morbidly excited by its licentious operation,) to the
+firmness of the nervous system, and the integrity of the general health.
+The volume is not addressed to any particular class of readers, and being
+free from technical expressions, is rendered plain and comprehensive to
+all. We commend this volume of Mr. SWEETSER cordially to our readers,
+firmly impressed with the belief that the principles which it advances may
+be rendered subservient both to the physical and moral welfare of our
+countrymen.
+
+
+    LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD, BY SEATSFIELD: translated from the German by
+    GUSTAVUS C. HEBBE, LL. D., and JAMES MACKAY, M.A. New-York: J.
+    WINCHESTER, 'New World' Press.
+
+The fourth number of this very remarkable work has been published; and we
+have had a fair opportunity of testing the merits of the mysterious
+author. The circumstances must now be generally known, under which these
+works appear before the public. It appears that MUNDT, a German scholar,
+who is publishing a continuation of SCHLEGEL'S History of Literature, has
+in his delineations of character given almost unbounded praise to an
+American named SEATSFIELD. Among the various works attributed to him are
+'Life in the New World,' 'Sea, Sketches,' 'South and North,' 'Virey,' the
+'Legitimate,' and others, which are to be issued in rapid succession from
+the press of WINCHESTER, 'the indefatigable,' as he may well be called;
+for the rapidity with which he sends out to the world the literary
+novelties of the day is a theme of public marvel. The German, in which
+these volumes are written, is said by competent judges, to be very pure
+and powerful: and indeed we may rest assured that if the case were
+otherwise, a critic of such high reputation as MUNDT would never have
+spoken of SEATSFIELD in such enthusiastic terms. The publisher, we
+understand, obtained several of the works from the library of Columbia
+College, through the politeness of Professor TELLKAMPT.
+
+The opinion, which some have expressed, that SEATSFIELD'S books are made
+up of stolen selections from different American writers, is unfounded. We
+cannot recognize in his style or thought familiar passages; and beside,
+there does not appear to be any rational inducement for this species of
+plagiarism. It is evident that the writings are indeed what they appear to
+be, the genuine productions of an able man. The descriptions of natural
+scenery are very graphic. 'The first trip on the Red River,' and the
+description of the trappers, is one of the most animated sketches we have
+ever read. Our mountains, rivers, cataracts, ocean-lakes, and forests, are
+described with the most remarkable spirit and truth.' The translation, we
+are informed by the best judges, is extremely faithful.
+
+
+    POETRY AND HISTORY OF WYOMING. By WILLIAM L. STONE, Esq. Second
+    edition, enlarged. New-York: MARK H. NEWMAN.
+
+This indefatigable laborer in the mine of Indian history continues to
+throw off from time to time works upon that subject, which bear the marks
+of great industry, patient research, and extensive information, and which
+have deservedly given him a high literary reputation as an historical
+writer. What has yet appeared we believe is only the beginning of a series
+of works relating to Indian annals, which are to be completed as soon as
+the author's health, and the duties of an arduous profession, will allow.
+From a late honor conferred upon him by one of the remnants of the Six
+Nations, in electing him one of their chiefs, by the name of
+SA-GO-SEN-O-TA, it seems plain that they highly approve of his efforts to
+preserve their history; and it may be considered as endorsing the accuracy
+of his investigations. In this light, the honor conferred, though coming
+from those whom civilization is crushing beneath its superior intelligence
+and power, is valuable and important. The present book takes the poetical
+share of its title from the fact that the author has prefixed CAMPBELL'S
+celebrated poem, preceded by a sketch of his life, furnished by WASHINGTON
+IRVING. 'Gertrude of Wyoming,' though beautiful, and seeming to be a
+narrative of real incidents in a poetical dress, is nevertheless a
+fiction, albeit founded upon an actual tragedy, whose horrors can hardly
+be exaggerated by any pen. It has been the design of our author to record
+the real history of the section of country which was stained by this
+tragedy, and which for this reason, has a melancholy interest thrown over
+its natural charms.
+
+The history of Wyoming does not commence, as many suppose, with the war of
+the American revolution. Long before, the conflict of human passions in
+the breast of savage and civilized man had discolored its soil with blood.
+During this antecedent period, its aboriginal annals are replete with
+incidents, which were greatly multiplied after the civil wars which
+disturbed the repose of that secluded valley had begun to be waged between
+the rival claimants to the territory from Connecticut and Pennsylvania,
+and which for twelve or thirteen years prior to the revolutionary war
+present a series of the most stirring events. The author, therefore, in
+order to render the history complete, has taken it up before the first
+known visit of the white men; of whom, among the earliest, were the
+Moravian missionaries. To the honor of these men, be it recorded, that in
+this instance, as in others, they plunged into the depths of the forest,
+and labored among the savages with a christian zeal and enterprize which
+have never been surpassed. The scenes of the revolution, embracing not
+only the great massacre in July, 1778, with its frightful horrors, but
+also a number of other bloody forays of the Indians upon the white men,
+are moreover faithfully described. But after all, perhaps the most
+interesting portion of the volume is formed of the narrative of the
+services and sufferings of individuals and families. These latter records
+are full of those wild and romantic incidents which are peculiar to border
+warfare; where the steady courage and determined bravery of the European
+appears in deadly conflict with the wiliness, cunning, and sleepless
+vengeance of the savage. To say that all this is narrated by the author in
+the spirit of accurate history, would be far below the meed of praise that
+is due. He has executed this part of the book in a style of animated and
+lively description, and with that flowing and finished diction, which can
+only be attained when the mind of a writer is perfectly familiar with the
+events, and when, by the force of imagination, he becomes himself as it
+were an actor instead of a spectator of the scenes which he narrates.
+
+Additional interest is given to this spot, from the fact, which probably
+is not generally known, except to the professed historian, that the
+distinguished patriot TIMOTHY PICKERING took up his abode in the valley of
+Wyoming, attracted no doubt by its unrivalled beauties, to which he was
+first introduced during a military campaign, but which he afterward
+contemplated, on the return of peace, with an eye capable of being charmed
+by the picturesque in nature. The concluding chapter of the book is
+devoted mainly to a spirited account of the abduction of that gentleman,
+and his confinement in the wilderness by a gang of ruffians, who, after
+trying in vain to bend his soldier-like mind to a compliance with their
+violent designs, gave him an ungracious release, and allowed him to return
+to his family. Among the papers in the appendix, now first introduced to
+the public, will be found a deed of purchase, made from the Indians ninety
+years ago, by the Connecticut Land Company, containing the names of some
+six hundred of the most wealthy and distinguished people of that State. It
+is important as a means of showing the valuation of land at that period,
+and a proof that it was acquired by honest purchase. This edition has been
+enlarged to the amount of more than one hundred pages of letter-press; an
+addition found necessary by the discovery of increased materials by the
+author since the publication of the first edition.
+
+In concluding this brief notice of a work written with decided talent, and
+designed to fill an important niche in the early history of this country,
+we are bound to thank the author, and to express the hope that he will be
+able to finish the historical design which he has sketched, pertaining to
+that interesting race, of whom it may be truly said, that 'the hour of
+their destiny has already struck.' This volume shows us, that in our own
+country may be found topics for literary effort, worthy of employing the
+gifted pens of America, without going abroad in quest of subjects, in the
+discussion of which we shall long be surpassed by foreigners, on account
+of their superior facilities and larger sources of information. As a book
+entirely American, we commend it to the reading public, confident that it
+will be received with favor wherever it is read, and be considered a
+valuable addition to the historical department of every gentleman's
+library.
+
+
+    A NEW SPIRIT OF THE AGE. By R. H. HORNE. In one volume. New-York:
+    HARPER AND BROTHERS.
+
+The Mr. HORNE who stands sponsor for this 'child of many fathers' must not
+be confounded with Mr. HARTWELL HORNE, who in a literary point of view is
+quite another person. The author of the volume before us, however, with
+the aid of sundry fellow _litt�rateurs_ 'of the secondary formation,' as
+CARLYLE phrases it, has collected together quite a variety of materials,
+the whole being intended to form a sort of sequel to HAZLITT'S 'Spirit of
+the Age,' a brilliant work, to which the present bears slight resemblance.
+We quite agree with a contemporary, that it manifests little or no
+independence of judgment or originality of thought. 'It is the result of
+the labor of many hands, and those not the most skilful or experienced. It
+consequently wants that homogenousness of style which one would expect in
+a professed imitation of so excellent a model. The highest degree of merit
+that can be accorded to it is that of a collection of magazine articles of
+second rate merit. It is likely to prove popular with the generality of
+readers who do not trouble themselves to dip beneath the surface of
+things; but we must caution those who would form a just estimate of the
+characters and merits of the distinguished writers whose works are
+analyzed in it, that its premises are not always correct nor its
+deductions sound.'
+
+
+
+
+EDITOR'S TABLE.
+
+
+A DAY WITH THE GREAT SEATSFIELD.--The Boston Daily Advertiser recently
+divulged, with a most curious air of bewilderment, the name of a new, and
+as it seems hitherto unheard-of, ornament to American literature--the
+illustrious SEATSFIELD. Illustrious, however, only upon the other side of
+the water; for it appears that we Yankee cotton-raisers have somewhat else
+to do than to busy our brains about any letters except letters of credit,
+or any fame that is not reverberated from abroad. No one, of course, at
+all conversant with modern German literature, not even the slightest
+skimmer of their late periodical publications, or the most occasional
+peruser of the _Allgemeine Zeitung_ or _Dresden Bluthundstaglich_, can
+have failed to notice with patriotic pride the gradual but gigantic
+progress of this new VOLTAIRE to the highest pinnacle of popular renown.
+But, sooth to say, our western world is so overrun with pretenders; there
+are so many young gentlemen annually spawned by Yale and Cambridge, who
+affect to read German without being able to construe the advertisement of
+a Leipsic bookseller; so numerous are the blue-spectacled nymphs who quote
+JEAN PAUL betwixt their blanc-mange and oysters, without comprehending
+even the outermost rind of its in-meaning; so utterly ignorant are our
+so-called literati of any subject beyond the scope of a newspaper, that
+the name of SEATSFIELD sounded as strangely in American ears as if he had
+lately arrived from Herschel or Georgium Sidus in a balloon. It is true
+that some two or three of our eminent scholars, a few travellers, men of
+taste, who had wandered by the Rhine, were acquainted with his reputation,
+and in some degree with his productions. EMERSON doubtless must have been
+aware of his renown; Professor FELTON of course had read him as often as
+he has HOMER; JONES, WILKINS, and F. SMITH had studied him with delight.
+The 'Dial,' a journal of much repute, had even spoken openly, we are told,
+of his success in Europe. Mr. W. E. CHANNING, the poet, had evidently but
+perhaps unconsciously imitated his peculiar viscidity of style, and (if we
+may use such an expression.) extreme flakiness of thought. But in spite of
+these few exceptions to the general indifference, let it stand recorded,
+that when the name of SEATSFIELD returned to his own shore, it was an
+alien and unmeaning word. His own country, so deeply indebted to his
+powerful pen, absolutely knew him not. The literati stared, and the Boston
+Advertiser was struck aghast with wonder. What a comment upon the state of
+letters in America! 'Literary Emporium,' forsooth! 'Western Athens!'
+Medici of Manhattan! how grossly we Yankees do misapply titles! It was the
+very 'Literary Emporium' itself that was most astounded at the
+newly-discovered mine. SEATSFIELD'S name had overspread civilized Europe;
+his productions had been dramatized at Munich and Bucharest; they had been
+translated into Russian and Turkish; the Maltese mariner had learned to
+solace himself with his 'Twilight Helmsman's Hymn,' and the merchants of
+Syra and Beyrout adorned their mansions with his bust; yet Boston,
+New-York, and Philadelphia had never heard his name! In the lack of more
+minute information with regard to this remarkable man, perhaps the
+following page or two from a traveller's journal may prove acceptable to
+the public. The absolutely total obscurity of the subject in America, may
+also, it is hoped, serve as an apology for the openness of detail and
+apparent breach of etiquette in regard to private intercourse.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'It has been my fortune to spend a day in company with the man who of all
+men has done the most to illustrate our manners and character; yet who,
+strange to say, is less known than 'Professor' INGRAHAM. As it was then my
+fortune to speak _with_ him; I now consider it my duty to speak _of_ him,
+and to do what little I am able, to extend his name among his compatriots.
+
+'In the spring of the year previous to this, or to be exact, in April,
+1843, I found myself at Berlin. My friend, Mr. CARLYLE, of London, had
+given me a letter to THEODORE MUNDT, and I had learned soon after my
+arrival that this distinguished man was in town. I had consequently looked
+over my letters, after dinner, and had selected the one addressed to
+MUNDT, and laid it under a little plaster bust of SCHILLER that stood just
+over the stove, in the room where I dined. In the evening I walked into
+the _Ermschlagg Buchzimmer_.[2] Several students were making annotations
+from huge volumes, and many grave, pale gentlemen were turning over the
+reviews and periodicals of the day. Among these I recognized an Englishman
+whom I had fallen in with at Cologne but parted with at Heidelberg. He had
+been in Berlin three days before me, and I was truly glad to meet with an
+acquaintance even of so recent a date, to whom I could apply for
+information or advice as to the best way of seeing the lions. While I was
+whispering to him, a grim-visaged old Teuton looked up at us with a stern
+frown, and my friend observed, 'We must retire into the _Sprechensaale_,
+or conversation-room.' As soon as we had entered this adjoining apartment,
+to the evident satisfaction of the aforesaid grim Teuton, I observed a
+tall, thin man, of angular and wiry aspect, see-sawing his body in front
+of the stove, toward which he had turned his back, as he stood in
+apparently deep cogitation. 'You don't know who that is,' quoth my friend;
+'there is _one_ of the lions, to begin with. I found out his name this
+morning: that is THEODORE MUNDT.' Struck as I was with the stranger's
+aspect, which appeared to me altogether American, I stared at him till he
+suddenly raised his dark eyes, and fixed them on mine. To disembarrass
+myself from my seeming rudeness as politely as possible, I bowed to his
+gaze, and said inquiringly: 'I have the honor to address Mr. MUNDT?'
+
+    [2] A new public library and reading-room in Berlin.
+
+''You have the _luck_,' he said, 'but the honor is _his_.'
+
+''Honors are even, then,' said I, as brusquely as I dared; and of all
+animals a traveller is the most impudent. 'I have in my pocket,' I
+continued, 'a letter for you from my friend CARLYLE.' At the name of
+CARLYLE he raised his hands in surprise, then rubbed them with delight,
+and began to eulogise his friend.
+
+'All this while I was fumbling in my pocket for my letter, when suddenly
+it flashed over me that I had put it under the bust in the tavern. I grew
+confused for a moment, and then as Mynheer MUNDT held out his hand for the
+letter, I burst into a laugh, and confessed that I had left my letter at
+home. MUNDT looked very serious, and quoted from Othello, 'That is a
+fault;' and then from Macbeth, 'To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow.'
+I thought there was a little affectation in this; perhaps it was merely
+complimentary; but the immediate result of our imperfect acquaintance was,
+that I made bold to introduce my friend to MUNDT, who invited us both to
+his rooms to supper. On our way thither, as we passed the _Brunswik
+Gasthaus_, where I lodged, I stepped in to procure my letter, and MUNDT
+appeared rejoiced to hear directly from his 'very _fine_ friend' CARLYLE,
+as he queerly styled him.
+
+'I should feel that I was venturing on forbidden ground were I to reveal
+more of what passed between us that evening. There was some drawing of
+corks and some puffing of Hamburg-made Cheroots, which MUNDT declared to
+be genuine Oriental; there was a ham of Westphalia, and a bit of La
+Gruyere. But with all this we have nothing to do. I fear that I have
+already made my preface too long. Enough be it then to say, that MUNDT
+first revealed to me on this occasion (I am ashamed to own it) the name
+and talents of our countryman SEATSFIELD. How enthusiastic he was I will
+not describe; but his enthusiasm could only be equalled by his surprise
+that I was not familiar with his writings.
+
+'On the next day MUNDT gave me a letter to SEATSFIELD, directed to him at
+B�sle, in Switzerland, near which he owns a beautiful villa. I did not
+find him at B�sle, however, and I proceeded to Milan without delivering my
+letter. On my return from Italy, I happened to learn that SEATSFIELD was
+at Graffenburg in Silesia; and although it was forty leagues from my
+purposed route I encountered the delay, out of mere curiosity of seeing so
+distinguished a man. This time I was not disappointed. One day only I
+spent at Graffenburg, but that day was sufficient to fill me with a truly
+German (I wish I could say American) admiration of my countryman.
+Graffenburg, it should be remarked, is the famous scene of Doctor
+PRIESSNITZ'S wonderful hydropathic cures. Being there only for a single
+day, I did not think it best to submit in all points to the cold water
+treatment; neither did SEATSFIELD, for I noticed that he mixed two
+table-spoonfuls of gin with every gill of cold water. SEATSFIELD is a man
+of about middle-age, with a penetrating eye, and rather a good form,
+though not unusually muscular. His face bears a remarkable resemblance to
+the pictures of NUMA POMPILIUS; the benign smile of each is the same. His
+chin is round and full, although partially concealed by a slight beard;
+his nose, which is of a truly German outline, is marked by the 'dilated
+nostril of genius;' and his whole aspect is that of a thorough man of the
+world. I will continue my reminiscence by extracting verbatim a page or so
+from my imperfect, though as far as it goes, authentic diary. I am
+convinced however that his remarks will lose much from the want of his
+pointed manner of enunciation. His English was faultless, and he spoke as
+well as if he had never been out of America. Very few Americans indeed,
+and no British-Islanders, talk so correct and chaste a dialect.
+
+
+EXTRACT FROM MY JOURNAL.
+
+                                          _Graffenburg, July 4_, 1844.
+
+'I was very fortunate, they tell me, to find SEATSFIELD in so
+companionable a mood. He appeared in high spirits, and was exceedingly
+conversible. The glorious return of our national anniversary had a visible
+effect upon him. I presented my letter to him last evening, but he was
+weary, and retired early. When I first met him in the Upper Bath-room
+Walk, this morning, he congratulated me upon the brightness and brilliancy
+of the day. 'You have much to be thankful for, Sir,' he observed; 'the day
+is perfectly American. Just such a sun as this is now dawning upon
+Broadway and the Battery. The sound of India-crackers and the pleasant
+smell of lobsters is already perceptible to the senses of the awakening
+Manhattanese.'
+
+'Boston, too, my native city,' I observed, 'is also alive to the holiday
+influences. Boston Common I dare say is already white with tents, and the
+fragrant commerce of the booths is just commencing on the Mall.'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'Yes, Sir; but Boston and Philadelphia both fail in developing
+the true character-stamp-work (_character-stampfen-werk_) of the day. To
+see the Fourth of July in its glory, one should visit New-York. To my
+senses, which are uncommonly acute, there is a peculiar smell about the
+Fourth of July in New-York, which differs in toto from that of any other
+holiday.'
+
+'In Boston we also have the perfume of lobsters and egg-pop blended with
+that of orange-peel and pine-apple----'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'That, Sir, is but a feeble rationale of the New-York savor. I
+have often, in a jocose mood, amused myself with analyzing this odor. I
+have resolved it into the following elements: lobsters, gunpowder,
+trampled-grass, wheel-grease, and cigars. It is mainly to these
+ingredients, grafted upon the other ordinary city smells, that I attribute
+the Fourth of July smell.'
+
+'There is one that you have failed to detect; namely, a faint whiff of
+barn-yards, owing I presume to the strong prevalence of farmers and other
+rustics from the surrounding country.' SEATSFIELD smiled at this, and
+acknowledged, in a laughing way, an occasional intimation of manure.
+'Graffenburg,' I observed, 'is remarkably free from all strong odors; it
+is a very clean village.'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'That, Sir, is owing to the water: depend upon it, wherever
+water prevails neatness will ensue. Temperance and cleanliness go hand in
+hand. The ancients were a filthy race, and they were great wine-bibbers.
+What a condition of personal and mental nastiness is divulged by HORACE in
+his 'Iter ad Brundusium;' yet HORACE was a choice specimen of a Roman
+gentleman.'
+
+'Have you had any poets among you here? or is the hydropathic system too
+repugnant to their art?'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'Our countryman, LONGFELLOW, was here not long since. I sat at
+table with him frequently; but never introduced myself to him.'
+
+'Do you think highly of his powers?'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'As a prolific generator of novel life-images, no; but as a
+vivid delineator of the inner-thought principle, as an artistical
+displayer of the higher subjective mood, he is of the very first class. I
+honor LONGFELLOW.'
+
+'He is perhaps our smoothest versifier, next to HALLECK.'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'Nay, he is the only one among us who can combine extreme
+polish and the utmost facility of flow with deep-seated reflection.'
+SEATSFIELD then quoted, with a sublime energy, from the celebrated 'Psalm
+of Life:'
+
+  ''Not enjoyment and not sorrow
+    Is our destined end or way,
+  But to act, that each to-morrow
+    Find us farther than to-day.
+
+ 'In the world's broad field of battle,
+    In the bivouac of life,
+  Be not like dumb driven cattle,
+    Be a hero in the strife.
+
+ 'Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant,
+    Let the dead Past, bury its dead;
+  Act, act in the glorious Present,
+    Heart within and GOD o'er head.''
+
+'You give the poet a great advantage,' I said, 'in quoting his very finest
+production, and picking out the choicest stanzas. Beside, his theme here
+is one of so general a nature, and so familiar to philosophy, that it
+would be hard for any one to moralize upon it in verse without
+accidentally hitting upon some sublimity. The commonest intellect has
+lofty and awful thoughts whenever it gives way to serious meditation upon
+our mortality.'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'That is partly true; but LONGFELLOW is not only great upon
+that ground. His realm is very extensive. No man has the power (had he
+only the will) of depicting the simplicity of every-day life and objects
+with more grace or comprehensiveness. There are some touches in his
+'Village Blacksmith' inexpressibly beautiful, and worthy of BURNS'
+'Cotter's Saturday Night:'
+
+  'His hair is crisp and black and long,
+    His face is like the tan;
+  His brow is wet with honest sweat,
+    He earns whate'er he can,' etc.
+
+And then again:
+
+  'He goes on Sunday to the Church,
+    And sits among the boys;
+  He hears the parson pray and preach,
+    He hears his daughter's voice
+  Singing in the gallery,
+    And it makes his heart rejoice.'
+
+SEATSFIELD repeated these verses with much emotion; and I observed that a
+tear stood upon his lids. I therefore turned the conversation upon
+hydropathy, and introduced a quotation from PINDAR: [Greek: ariston men
+hyd�r], _etc._
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'PINDAR, Sir, has expressed a great truth; but I think that
+PIERPONT has expressed it better. In his exquisite 'Ode on the Opening of
+the Marlborough Temperance-House' how beautifully he says, after speaking
+in regard to the virtues of cold water:
+
+  'Oh! had EVE'S hair
+    Been dressed in gin,
+  Would she have been
+    Reflected fair?'
+
+'And then, after describing the beauty of Eden, with its rills and
+pellucid brooks bubbling through the fresh meads, he goes on:
+
+  'Are not pure springs
+    And chrystal wells
+  The very things
+    For our Hotels?'
+
+'That, Sir, is excellent, and the somewhat homely imagery only enhances in
+my mind the truth of the sentiment. PIERPONT, Sir, is a very great man.'
+
+'As great as LONGFELLOW?'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'No, Sir, perhaps not; there is a considerable difference of
+calibre between them. I should say now that LONGFELLOW was a first-rate
+artist with a second-rate imagination, and that PIERPONT was only a
+second-rate artist with a first-rate fancy. There is no mistake in
+PIERPONT.'
+
+I smiled at SEATSFIELD'S affectation of Americanisms, as if out of
+compliment to myself, or in honor of the day; and I rejoined: 'There may
+be no mistake in PIERPONT, but there is one or two in LONGFELLOW.'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'Grammatical or prosodiacal?'
+
+'Neither; but in the beginning of his 'Psalm of Life,' he says:
+
+  'Tell me not in mournful numbers
+    Life is but an empty dream;
+  For the soul is dead that slumbers,
+    And things are not what they seem.'
+
+'Here he evidently meant things _are_ what they seem; for in the next
+stanza he goes on to say:
+
+  'Life is real, life is earnest,
+    And the grave is not its goal;
+  'Dust thou art, to dust returnest,'
+    Was not written of the soul.'
+
+Consequently, if life _is_ real and earnest, and the soul is incapable of
+mortality, things _must be_ what they seem, and the soul _cannot_ be dead
+that slumbers. And if the soul _is_ dead that slumbers, and things are
+_not_ really what they seem to be, life _is_ indeed an empty dream.'
+SEATSFIELD looked puzzled at this.
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'You are somewhat hypercritical. Great thoughts must not be
+trimmed to the exact dialect of business-men. LONGFELLOW reveals important
+truths; he utters what is pent within him from the impulse of utterance:
+he tells us that 'Art is long and Time is fleeting;' now some arts are not
+long, and time often drags heavily. It will not do to be too precise in
+poetry.'
+
+'But is that sentiment original? Does not one of the ancients say, '_Ars
+longa, vita brevis_?' and does not that come pretty near to LONGFELLOW'S
+idea?'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'Yes, Sir, but that is a little criticism which picks out
+words. LONGFELLOW, or yourself, or any other man, would have arrived at
+the same conclusion, even had the ancient author never written it.'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'We were here interrupted by a call to luncheon; and I take advantage of
+the break in my journal, to bring this article to a close. More of the
+SEATSFIELDIANA I reserve for another number, provided the public are not
+already glutted.'
+
+
+MAGAZINE WRITING.--We know not how we can better evince our appreciation
+of the kind and flattering comments of a Southern correspondent, who will
+at once recognize our allusion, than by citing the somewhat kindred
+remarks of an old and favorite contributor, now passed away from earth. It
+was a pleasing matter, he said, to sit down with the proper afflatus
+stirring within him, to write an article for a Magazine. 'If the work has
+a general prevalence; if its fame is rife on good men's tongues, the
+inspiration is the stronger. One says to himself, how many friends of mine
+will overlook these very lucubrations, perceive my initials, and recognize
+my name? How many pleasing associations will thus be awakened, and
+peradventure commendatory remarks expressed, concerning my powers? What a
+_quid pro quo_ for wakeful nights, emendations of phrases, the choosing of
+words, and toilsome revision! The other day,' he continues, 'while reading
+the proof-sheet of my article in the last KNICKERBOCKER, I fell into a
+train of reflection upon the large amount of care and labor which must be
+entailed upon the publisher and editor of an original Magazine. Some one
+has observed, that when we listen to an exquisite opera, or any elaborate
+and intricate piece of music, we think not how vast were the pains and
+attention bestowed upon every note and cadence; what efforts for
+perfection in a solo, what panting for a warble, what travail for a trill!
+Taken separately, and at rehearsals, in disjointed fragments of sound, how
+different are they from that volume of sweet concords which is produced
+when they are all breathed forth in order, to the accompaniment of flutes
+and recorders, in one full gush of melody! This is just like a Magazine.
+How many minds does it engage! Cherished thoughts and cherished feelings,
+polished or sublimated, there find utterance, and demand that honor and
+deference to which they are entitled. In his beautiful Introduction to the
+Harleian Miscellany, JOHNSON sets forth the necessity and benefit of
+similar writings, with reasons as conclusive as the language in which they
+are expressed is chaste and strong. In a country like ours, where the vast
+population move by common impulse; think promptly, are enlightened with
+ease, and turn to the best account that knowledge which is received with
+the greatest facility; are inspired with sacred and patriotic feelings
+from the bar, the senate, the pulpit, and the press; it is important and
+just that the readiest methods and means of instructive moral amusement
+should be the most esteemed and the best supported. I confess I never look
+into a Magazine, that I do not liken it to a large and pure reservoir of
+refreshing waters; derived from many streams, and prankt around its
+borders with the flowers and garniture of poesy; possessing qualities
+agreeable to every taste--the grave, the solid, the scientific, the light,
+the gay. It is a map of the higher moods of life. It conveys a sustenance
+with the relish of pleasure. All who favor it with their productions have
+different tastes and faculties of mind. Each one endeavors to do the best
+with his theme. He ornaments it in diction, or tasks his fancy, or
+explores the secrets of science, or illustrates the events and scenes of
+his country: he excites broad-mouthed laughter, by salutary jest and pun;
+he expatiates in pathetic sentences, or murmurs in the mellow cadence of
+song; or arouses interest by the embellishments wherewith history is
+refined, and which shed a light over the dim annals of the past, making
+them to smile,
+
+  ----'even as the radiant glow,
+  Kindling rich woods, whereon the etherial bow
+  Sleeps lovingly awhile.'
+
+'Now what I thought beside, while looking over my proof, was this: that a
+'circulating medium,' through which so many minds communicated their
+thoughts, produced and clothed with befitting language in solitary labor;
+smoothed, strengthened, or harmonized by revision, and rendered impressive
+by those helps and researches of which every _readable_ writer must avail
+himself; such a medium, I say, merits the esteem and respect of all. It
+deserves not to be taken up for judgment, at a momentary glance, by the
+undiscerning eye of careless inquiry. It should be read impartially, and
+spoken of, in all worthy points, with praise; in faulty ones, with
+tenderness. Our literature, I take it, is not yet a sufficiently flowery
+pursuit, to enable any of its votaries to sow its walks with brambles. By
+its influence, _the country_ is to be mentally illustrated; the clanking
+shackles of transatlantic humbug are to be thrown off; and the
+establishment of wholesome feelings, and reliance upon our own
+intellectual resources, firmly effected. I love to see the general press
+engaged now and then in cheering onward the laborers in the more
+unfrequented and toilsome avenues of our literary vineyard. It sends a
+GOD-speed to the bosoms of those whose travails are more for their country
+than themselves; and who are content, in anonymous pride, to believe, that
+it heralds that bright day of mental refinement which will ere long, among
+the freest and noblest confederacy of nations on earth, irradiate the
+utmost borders of that holy circumference,
+
+    'Our Native Land!'
+
+
+A THRUST WITH A TWO-EDGED WEAPON.--We rather incline to the opinion that
+the 'complainant below' is infringing the law which forbids the use of
+concealed weapons; that are not the less to be guarded against, certainly,
+when as in the present case they cut both ways. But our readers shall
+judge: DEAR EDITOR: The country, strange as it may appear, has peculiar
+and permanent inhabitants; neither dressing in skins, nor wearing their
+own feathers, but habited after the glimpses of fashion which reach them
+through their trees. As we have never yet met with a man who was so
+fortunate as to have no relations, we take it for granted that all
+city-zens, yourself among the rest, have country-cousins. Think of the
+countless multitudes that turn their longing eyes in the direction of a
+metropolis like this, yearning for a visit, and sending off by frequent
+_Opportunities_, never by mail, those remarkable epistolary compounds of
+hopes and wants which no other race of beings can compose in perfection:
+'Hope JOHN is well, and BETSEY will come and see us next summer; and
+want'--LAWSON and STEWART! what do they _not_ want? Every thing; from
+twenty yards of silk down to a penny's-worth of tape. The letters run
+somewhat in this guise, though less poetically:
+
+  'Cousin John, please to send down to-morrow,
+      At eight, by the Scarborough mail,
+  'Claudine, or the Victim of Sorrow,'
+      Don Juan, two mops and a pail;
+  Six ounces of Bohea from TWINING'S,
+      A peg-top, a Parmesan cheese,
+  Some rose-colored sarcenet, for linings,
+      A stew-pan, and STEVENSON'S Glees;
+  A song ending 'Hey-noni-noni,'
+      A chair with a cover of chintz,
+  A mummy dug up by BELZONI,
+      A skein of white worsted from FLINT'S.'
+
+Half the things that are sent for, they might buy at their own doors.
+Again and again we have known them put in commission and procure from an
+oppressed relative the identical productions of a manufactory within a
+mile of them. A singular virtue seems to abide in all that comes from the
+sunny side of Broadway.
+
+'You perhaps may not know what an OPPORTUNITY is. In love affairs you have
+undoubtedly experienced that it is every thing; but in rural affairs it is
+more. It is the common-carrier of a village. So soon as an inhabitant has
+expressed his intention of going to town, he becomes an Opportunity, and
+like a Chinese, liable to pains and penalties for leaving his native
+place. From every quarter pour in letters, bundles, and packages, which
+are to be carried with care and delivered with despatch. No thanks for his
+trouble, if they should reach their destination, and a general liability
+for the uncertain value of their contents if they should chance to be
+lost. So that an Opportunity's advent in town ought to be announced in
+this way: 'Arrived, HIRAM DOOLITTLE, from Connecticut, with m'dze to
+LEGION AND COMPANY.' The Opportunity not only transports, but acts as
+General Agent. Commissions are given him for a return freight. Hats,
+coats, dresses, are much wanted, which he is expected to select with
+taste, and to purchase cheap. Even the labyrinth of houses does not
+protect him from the Argus eyes of his consignees. They seek him out and
+insist upon his turning himself into a United States' mail and a HARNDEN'S
+express. It is not a week since we heard a consignee's friend's friend
+request an Opportunity to carry home a loaf of sugar to his country
+correspondent.
+
+'Perhaps, Friend KNICK., we are wounding your feelings all this time,
+tender by reason of many cousins and commissions; but we can assure you
+that we have an infinite respect for all relationship, and are rather
+blessed than bored by the requisitions of our own rural branches. We
+trust, however, that your rustic kith and kin do not come upon your house
+in the spring, in shoals like the shad. Unhappy editor, if it be so; for
+until the day predicted by ALPHONSE KARR, when connexions shall be cooked
+and _c�telettes d'oncle � la B�chamel_ and _t�tes de cousin en tortue_
+shall smoke lovingly upon the table, there is nothing for you but to
+submit to your Fates, or to give up your house-keeping. But with country
+cozens, those provincials who are not bone of your bone, and who
+nevertheless at every visit to town call upon you with an eager look and
+covetous smile, as if to say, 'Ask us to dinner, we once invited you to
+tea,' there is but one method to pursue; the cut--the firm, unwavering,
+direct cut. Do not pretend not to see them, or to look fixedly in another
+direction, but give them the vacant, absent stare, as if you saw around
+them, and through them, and the image before you excited neither attention
+nor recollection. There are no terms to be kept with them. Their
+Shibboleth is not yours.
+
+'In the 'Absentee,' a London fashionable lady, Mrs. DAZEVILLE, goes to
+Ireland, and is hospitably received by Lady CLONBRONY, stays a month at
+her country-house, and is as intimate with Lady CLONBRONY and her niece
+Miss NUGENT, as possible; and yet when Lady CLONBRONY comes to London,
+never takes the least notice of her. At length, meeting at the house of a
+common friend, Mrs. DAZEVILLE cannot avoid recognizing her, but does it in
+the least civil manner possible: 'Ah, Lady CLONBRONY! Did not know you
+were in England! How long shall you stay in town? Hope before you leave
+England you will give us a day.' Lady CLONBRONY is so astonished at this
+ingratitude, that she remains silent; but Miss NUGENT answers quite
+coolly, and with a smile: 'A day? certainly, to you who gave us a month.'
+Miss EDGEWORTH evidently considers this a capital story; and we have no
+doubt that many stupid people who have read it consider it an excellent
+hit; but we can assure them that they know nothing of the woods and
+fields. It is a great favor to make people in the country a visit. It
+relieves them from the tiresome monotony of their rose-bushes and
+chickens; and by the active exertions in planning breakfasts and dinners,
+and making the one ride through the valley last for three afternoons,
+infuses if possible a certain degree of mental activity into their lives,
+which must be far from disagreeable to them. A cit too is in a certain
+degree a lion. The oldest town-jokes are as new in the country as last
+year's ribbons; and the neighbors gather together to view with delight a
+face that they have not seen every Sunday for the last fifty-two weeks,
+and are only too happy to engage the Novelty at a 'Tea.' But when they
+come to town, what can you do with them? Who the devil wants to see them?
+Your friends care little enough for you, still less for your agricultural
+acquaintances. You cannot bring yourself to go to PEALE'S Museum, or to
+see the talking-machine; and tickets at the opera are dear, unless you
+stand up. As we said before, you must cut them, or
+
+  'If you are a little man,
+  Not big enough for that,'
+
+you must try to have them arrested as soon as they arrive, as disturbers
+of domestic peace, and confined in the Tombs during the whole of their
+intended stay. If the Legislature sat in New-York instead of in a _country
+city_, they would pass some law similar to the South Carolina free-black
+law, confining all rural visitors, or at least making those liable to an
+indictment for false pretences, who claim acquaintance with the 'people of
+the whirlpool.'
+
+'If it were only for once, one might ask all his _rats des champs_ to meet
+one another at a Tea. This might be amusing, if the jest did not grow
+painful by repetition. There is no reciprocity in your dealings with such
+invitees. You will probably never again reach their Siberian settlement,
+whereas they come to town three times a year! It is not fair. It is a base
+cheat. How can they be so ungenerous and illiberal as to accuse you of
+neglect and ingratitude for not cultivating them when in the city? They
+might as well abuse you for not having a green-house! This doctrine of
+ours is so clearly reasonable, that all people of any breeding admit its
+truth, and act accordingly. You may stay a week at a country-seat, and
+need make no acknowledgments of any kind to the owner thereof in his
+town-house; whereas a dinner in the city is a debt of honor, which must be
+paid. This is a well settled law. Not that your obligation is by any means
+cancelled. It is not dead, but dormant. Next summer you will feel deep
+gratitude for the kindness you received during the last; but no such
+indebtedness is payable in urbanity. GEORGE SELWYN met in St.
+James-street, London, a man whom he had known very well in Bath, and
+passed steadily by him without a look of recognition. His acquaintance
+followed him, and said: 'Sir, you knew me very well in Bath.' 'Well, Sir,'
+replied SELWYN, 'in Bath I may possibly know you again.' Farewell.
+
+
+ANOTHER 'PELLET' FROM JULIAN.--Not a word is necessary by way of
+introduction to the ensuing passages from an epistle lately received from
+our esteemed friend and correspondent JULIAN. Happy husband of a happy
+wife and happier mother! Happy father! may his joy never be less: 'We are
+in the country! When you write this way, say 'To the care of ---- ----,
+Esq.', for we are designedly three miles from post-offices and newsboys. I
+have given warning that if any of the latter come within my grounds with
+his French things, I will souse him in the river, and hold him there till
+he shall be thoroughly chilled into a dislike of these parts. You will
+readily imagine why we are here. The excitements and distractions of city
+life for the last few months were too much for us, and there are some
+things that can only be enjoyed apart from the world. Here, we subside
+gradually and gracefully from that high and tense delirium from which I at
+least made my a�rials, always coming back, however, to young JULIAN; who,
+by the way, is another occasion for country life, as I have great faith in
+first impressions, and I wish his to be bright and beautiful. Heaven
+preserve him from all darker colors; from the doubts, the glooms, the
+moral mistiness of your city atmosphere! Let no fog come between him and
+the bright sky, till he has well discovered that there is a heaven beyond,
+where there is neither cloud nor shadow, and up to which not one grain of
+all this dust and filth of the earth's whirling shall ever reach. It is
+quite enough that we are in sight and hearing of your great Babels; the
+jarring of their daily strife and the smoke of their torments. A lively
+and dashing river rolls between us, going off at a hand-gallop among rocky
+islands, over which we see their spires pointing up like electric-rods to
+avert the wrath that might otherwise descend upon them; and mingling with
+the dash of waters, we hear now and then their petty alarms, their
+steamers and fire-bells, and the dozen other occasions upon which they see
+fit to make a great noise in the world; but the travelled sound has a
+courtliness that is rather pleasant than otherwise; and as a key-note to
+our mocking-birds, it is quite worthy of the sweet south that brings it
+up. Whenever there is any sudden ebullition that cannot be pared down to
+the common air, we are made aware of it by a cannonading that is doubtless
+very considerable down there, but for any thing so ambitiously meant, it
+sounds here very miserable; a wretched attempt at notoriety, of which the
+most noticeable is the smoke of their powder. And so with all their
+sky-flourishing and rocketing, which we look at as at a falling star;
+pretty, no doubt, but not in our way. Every morning a railroad train
+starts out, and approaching within a mile, disappears among the hills with
+a slight buzzing and squibbing, like the fly on the window; and then after
+it has gone, as we suppose, there is another squib, very smart and
+snappish, and we hear nothing more of it till the train comes down, frets
+a little again as it passes by, and goes on to discharge its contents in
+the great city. To all these things we say, 'Pass on!' the world is
+various, and must be amused; but for us, we respectfully withdraw. We have
+had enough of the intense; we now welcome the trifling, appropriating
+however as much of the serious as we care to admit in our still life. When
+the Sabbath comes round, there are seven bells that reach us, each with
+its separate voice; and these, with falling waters, and the morning
+incense going up from the hill-sides, are as much of 'mass' as we care to
+have in our worship. But we have a ready ear for all sweet sounds, and
+need no glasses to appreciate the beautiful. Sunrise and sunset; the
+grouping of clouds; the blue haze that now and then lies on the landscape,
+all one with my cigar-smoke; and the storms and lightnings of the young
+summer, so spitefully beautiful; all these, with whatever of glory there
+may be in the still watches of the night, find their place in our
+picture-gallery; but we leave them as GOD made them, and add no tint to
+their coloring.
+
+'You are aware that the sun rises as per almanac. This is common; and so
+common, so much an every-day affair, that he gets very little credit
+therefor; and yet, that he will rise with great exactness, aside from all
+human calculation, and go on traversing the sky with a wonderful
+regularity that nothing can stop, is a very pleasant fact touching the
+prospect of to-morrow; and so also, that every thing in nature will be
+wrought with marvellous beauty and harmonies of sound; and oh! most
+satisfactory of all, there will still be an air that properly inhaled
+fills the _heart_ as well as the lungs. It is from a calm consideration of
+this fact, that we have done with the _eagerness_ of pleasure. No daily
+counting of hours to see that all have been properly brimmed; no grasping
+at a dozen things at once; no draining of the very dregs, lest that may be
+the last bottle, and we die to-morrow. But thankful as we are for
+to-morrow, and especially grateful for to-day, we don't care for
+noon-marks. We have kept no count lately, and for aught we know, Time may
+have stopped, but probably not. He is doubtless somewhere about, but we
+take no particular notice. Our watches have run down, and we care not to
+wind them again. The hours, if there are any, are all golden, and we have
+no occasion to note the passage one to the other; or if we start them,
+just to see the motion, they run on diamonds of the purest water; but
+mostly, whether it be morn, or mid-day, or the starry night, Sabbath or
+week-day, it is all one--all beautiful. Does it rain? It is quite proper.
+The earth needs it, no doubt, and it will look the more grateful therefor.
+Does it shine? Why then the birds will sing, and if they will come a
+little nearer, we will teach them that charming air from the last opera.
+Does a new star come out in heaven, or an old one disappear? The one will
+be an added glory, and the other not much missed; but they will little
+concern our astronomy. Expect no more rhapsodies, my friend, unless it be
+upon the wonderful ease with which every thing can be done without them.
+That we find all things pleasant, is the extent of our poetry. It is
+pleasant to wake; it is pleasant to sleep; it is pleasant to wake and
+sleep again; pleasant to watch the opening lid, and pleasant the smile
+that follows it; pleasant are kind words and tones, the touch of hands,
+and the touch of lips; the breath of flowers and those that love them;
+pleasant are the thousand infinitesimals, like the motes of the sun-beam,
+not less bright because of their minuteness; and pleasant the thought that
+sufficient as this heaven may be, there is another one above. And
+doubtless it is pleasant to breathe as usual, and feel the heart send
+round its currents with a touch of joy; but oh, pleasanter than all, to
+have no sigh or throb, to remind you that that breath must one day stop,
+and that warm blood turn cold. Oh! in the 'time' that is set apart 'for
+all things,' may heaven look kindly on and count these trifling hours!
+
+'Shall we ever leave this charming retreat? Certainly not, while these
+things last; but it is not impossible that we may return with the cold
+weather. Meanwhile, I have made a chalk-mark about the grounds, and as yet
+nothing with a bite or sting has passed over it. Mrs. JULIAN, as she now
+insists upon being called, has become highly contemplative; and if I did
+not know that she was never so happy before, I should think her sometimes
+a little sad; she is so quiet, so demure, and so eternally bewitched with
+that boy! Why Sir, she will sit for half a day over the fellow, amusing
+herself and him with I know not what varieties and wonders of invention;
+with lullabies and ditties and homoeopathies of language; and if he
+condescend to sleep for a few moments, how divinely still must every thing
+be! What infinite care is there in pinning the screen; what fortifications
+are built round about him; and what a world of protection in every
+movement! And then, when all is complete, she must still sit there, with
+that strange upward look which she has acquired lately, seeming to reach
+quite beyond the stars. She is a strange woman! Yesterday, having dined
+rather late, I happened to forget myself for a few moments on the lounge;
+and on waking, I found her kneeling before me, and looking up in my face
+with an expression that to me is peculiarly embarrassing; not the quick,
+joyous look, followed as quickly by the touch of lips; not that, but
+something quite indescribable. Perhaps I am not as considerate as I ought
+to be on such occasions, for doubtless she knows what she would be at, but
+I confess I do not. Indeed, she is constantly bringing out new points and
+flourishes, which to me are all vowels of the Hebrew; no doubt very sweet
+and musical, and certainly very necessary to the sense of the reading, but
+they are past all finding out. When she dazzles me with these brilliants,
+I sometimes reply in the Tartar, and so we are quits.
+
+'Young JULIAN developes slowly. He has smiled once or twice, but in a
+manner so precocious, that it would be alarming, if he were at all
+delicate. Fortunately he is not. His utterance as yet is quite
+unintelligible, though no doubt he has his meaning. To Mrs. JULIAN it is
+all poetry. '_Poeta nascitur_' may be quite true, but if he rhymes, which
+is quite possible to her ear, I am constrained to think that it is
+entirely accidental. I hope, at least, that he is not so viciously gifted.
+� � � HAVE I told you that she refuses a nurse, and that too pretty
+sharply? Well, that is not all; I can hardly touch the boy myself. She is
+so afraid I shall crush it! My raptures, she says, are not becoming; she
+even says that I 'frighten the child!' But she is the strangest of women!
+Last night, happening to wake some time in the small hours, I heard a
+slight noise in the room, and emerging from a dream, in which I remembered
+to have heard a good deal of crying and hushing, I listened intently for
+some moments, but couldn't for my life guess what it could be. There was
+nothing moving in the room, and the sound appeared to arise from some slow
+and uniform movement, so that it couldn't be the wind on the shutters; and
+if the mocking-birds had been sufficiently awake to swing, as they
+sometimes do, they would certainly have dropped a word or two, for they
+are great talkers. Now I often hear bells, fire-arms, and exclamations,
+and very often hear my name called, and questions asked, to which I reply
+in due form, all which I _know_ at the time to be imaginary; but this
+sound, though it seemed to be familiar, I couldn't make out. I was so
+drowsy, however, that I had half a mind to consider it a dream; but then
+what if any thing should happen? I should be responsible. Rising,
+therefore, very carefully, not to disturb Mrs. J., I discovered by the
+shaded light on the table that she was quite sound asleep; but what was
+wonderful, her right arm, outside the bed, was moving up and down with the
+regularity of a pendulum! What the deuce was all that? Well, Sir, I bent
+over breathlessly, and found she was pulling at a string! And what, O
+EDITOR! who ought to know every thing, what do you think she was pulling?
+Why, Sir, she was pulling at young JULIAN'S cradle. She was rocking the
+baby in her sleep! Oh!'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Apropos of 'the baby': an agreeable correspondent, from whom we shall be
+happy to hear 'frequently if not oftener,' intimates to us that our friend
+JULIAN, when the 'lactiferous animalcule' whose advent into this breathing
+world he lately described in such glowing terms, shall have reached a more
+mature babyhood, may find occasion to 'change the paternal note;' and he
+cites for us the following passage, from an essay by a sometime
+contributor to the KNICKERBOCKER, 'in justification of his fears:'
+
+    'In my bachelor visitations to my married friends, I have often
+    chuckled over the bashfulness, contending with love, which
+    distinguishes the YOUNG FATHER. In the pride of his heart,
+    perhaps, when his little man has first given evidence of that
+    degree of mental exertion called 'taking notice,' he clasps the
+    crowing baby in his arms; he rests its lily feet upon his knees;
+    he endures with philosophic patience all the 'gouging,' and
+    pulling, and kicking, with which the young hero may testify his
+    triumph; and while the young mother stands by, her eyes beaming
+    with mingled love and pride, he becomes warmer in his romps; makes
+    faces, as the nerveless fingers of the little one seek, with more
+    earnestness, his eyes, or pull with a greater effort at his lips;
+    and amid screams of laughter, he chases the flying hours, until at
+    length a 'pale cast of thought' flits over the baby's face, like a
+    cloud in a summer sky. This is the signal for immediate
+    seriousness. The father grows grave--then frightened. He raises
+    him gently from his lap, and with a single exclamation of 'Take
+    him mother!' consigns the precious charge to her arms, and darting
+    a hasty glance at his 'pants' he walks in silence from the room.
+    Nor do we bachelors always escape with impunity. Anxious to win a
+    smile from some fond mother, more than one of us may have dared to
+    approach, with a kiss, the hallowed lips of her darling. But mark
+    the quick wing of vengeance! Darting from its lurking place in the
+    mouth, out flies the little doubled fist, and slams a
+    well-beslabbered biscuit into the face of the intruder. He
+    recoils, with his 'reeking honors fresh upon him,' and the little
+    squab coos in triumph at his failure.'
+
+
+NATIONAL ACADEMY OF DESIGN.--The growing interest felt in relation to the
+Fine Arts in this country, and the influence which the NATIONAL ACADEMY OF
+DESIGN has had in producing that interest, make it imperative upon us to
+notice the pictures which are annually sent to this exhibition. In passing
+through the Academy with this object in view, we have been at some loss to
+know where to begin. Finding however by chance at the end of the catalogue
+an alphabetical arrangement of the exhibitors' names, we have adopted this
+as the best method of laying the merits of the several pictures before our
+readers. We therefore begin with:
+
+V. G. AUDUBON, A.--Mr. AUDUBON exhibits four pictures this season: of
+these, No. 133, 'Grove of Palm-trees' in the Island of Cuba, we prefer.
+This picture appears to be a faithful representation of the scene, and is
+handled with a free and firm pencil. The trees are perhaps a little too
+literally represented, to be agreeable to the eye, consisting as they do
+of so many equally straight and unpicturesque lines. No. 237, 'Moon-light
+Squall coming up,' is a pleasing representation of one of Nature's
+poetical moments. The light is clear and silvery, and the water
+transparent and truthful. The whole scene is interesting, and there is but
+little to find fault with; although perhaps parts would admit of more
+warmth of color.
+
+J. D. BLONDELL has six pictures, the majority portraits. No. 80, 'Portrait
+of a Lady,' half-length, is a pleasing picture; warm in color and
+carefully painted, and gives evidence of rising talent. The head is
+perhaps slightly deficient in careful drawing; but few artists are
+competent to paint a lady's portrait; and this gentleman should not feel
+discouraged, though his work be found slightly deficient in that grace
+which is so difficult of attainment.
+
+BODDINGTON, (London,) exhibits three landscapes, all in a style peculiarly
+belonging to the English school. They possess great charms; facility of
+execution, and delicacy of handling.
+
+BONFIELD.--No. 168 is perhaps the best of his productions. If it were not
+for the pinky hue of the sky, this would indeed be a charming picture.
+
+F. BAYLE.--No. 25; 'Picture-Dealer.' A deep-toned, carefully-painted
+picture, and evincing much promise in so young an artist. We are glad to
+perceive that it is purchased by the American Art-Union.
+
+G. L. BROWN.--No. 400; 'View of the Tiber.' Too much of an imitation of
+old pictures. In seeking this quality, the artist has lost sight of the
+truth and freshness of nature.
+
+CHAPMAN, N. A.--Mr. CHAPMAN presents nine pictures this season, and all in
+his usual brilliant style. No. 116, 'Peasant Girl of Albano,' is
+exceedingly rich in color, and forcible in effect: a few cool tints about
+the head-dress would give perhaps still greater value to the warm tones.
+No. 189, 'Hebrew Women,' is this artist's gem of the year. Well composed,
+pleasing in color, and carefully finished, it expresses the occurrence
+with fidelity and truth. No. 204, 'Boy in Indian Costume,' is an
+attractive picture; but No. 213, 'On the Fence,' is more to our liking.
+The story is well told; the city beau is carefully and truly represented;
+and the dogs are admirable. No. 263, portrait of Doctor ANDERSON, the
+father of wood-engraving in this country, is capital. No. 266, 'Lazy
+Fisherman,' is Laziness personified. No. 341, 'Sketch from Nature,' in
+water-colors, is an exemplification of this gentleman's versatility of
+talent.
+
+J. G. CLONNEY, A., has two pictures in the exhibition, Nos. 7 and 160. No.
+7, 'The New-Year's Call,' is decidedly the best. The negro is well
+painted. Mr. CLONNEY'S works generally evince great observation of nature
+in this class of subjects.
+
+T. COLE, N. A.--Mr. COLE exhibits but one picture, and that comparatively
+a small one. It possesses however many of the admirable characteristics of
+his works, particularly his early ones. It would be difficult to find a
+middle-ground and distance surpassing those of this picture.
+
+T. CRAWFORD, (Rome.)--Mr. CRAWFORD gives us two full-length statues, in
+which the charm of the _marble_ is strongly apparent. Mr. CRAWFORD, we
+grieve to say, is evidently too impatient in the finish of his works to
+produce that correctness which is essential to a high effort of art.
+
+J. F. CROPSEY.--No. 68, 'View in Orange County,' is a careful
+representation of nature, and has the appearance to our eyes of having
+been painted on the spot; a practice very rarely to be found in young
+artists. A continuance in this course will place this artist in a
+prominent position as a landscape-painter. The sky is faulty in color,
+being too purple to meet our views of nature; and there is a lack of
+delicacy in the more receding portions of the work. But the fore-ground is
+carefully painted, and full of truth.
+
+CUMMINGS, N. A.--Mr. CUMMINGS has but one picture. It possesses however
+the careful finish, gentlemanly character, and general truthfulness, so
+characteristic of this fine artist.
+
+T. CUMMINGS, JR., a young artist. No. 149, 'The Ball,' is his best work.
+In thus attempting a subject of great difficulty of execution, he evinces
+promise of future ability. The picture has many pleasing points, marked
+however with some errors, which time and practice, let us hope, will
+correct.
+
+C. CURTIS.--Mr. CURTIS has two pictures in the exhibition, and both of
+merit. No. 196 is among the best heads in the collection.
+
+J. W. DODGE, A.--'Miniature Portraits.' Those of HENRY CLAY and Gen.
+JACKSON are the most prominent. The likenesses are good, and the pictures
+carefully finished; a merit in works of this character frequently
+unattended to. There is, however, a want of dignity sometimes to be found
+in Mr. DODGE'S portraits, which we could wish to see remedied: it would
+give an elevation to his paintings which they at present lack.
+
+PAUL P. DUGGAN.--'John the Baptist' is a model in plaster, which displays
+greater knowledge of anatomy than we are in the habit of finding in the
+works of even older artists. In this respect it possesses great merit. We
+understand it is his first effort in modelling. As such, it is truly a
+work of the highest promise.
+
+DURAND, N. A.--Mr. DURAND has contributed largely to the present
+exhibition, in every sense of the word. His most prominent production is
+No. 36, 'The Solitary Oak.' For an exhibition-picture, perhaps it is not
+so striking as some of his previous works; yet it will bear examination
+better. Without any effort at warmth of color, it has that glow of
+sunlight which it is so difficult to express. A veteran tree, standing
+alone upon a gentle eminence, stretching forth its giant arms, that have
+withstood the storms of centuries, is truly a noble subject for an artist
+of Mr. DURAND'S reputation; and most truly has he depicted it. The
+distance is beautiful, and the introduction of cattle seeking their
+evening shelter gives an interest seldom to be found in works of this
+class. Should we attempt to find a fault, it would be the want of a little
+more warmth and clearness in the dark parts of the fore-ground. No. 134,
+another charming landscape; true to nature, of a silvery tone, and most
+exquisite sweetness of color and delicacy of touch. Nos. 181 and 258 are
+two careful studies from nature, wherein special care has been given to
+the trunks of trees, a feature in landscape-painting upon which sufficient
+attention is rarely bestowed. No. 244, 'Emigrant Family,' is full of
+interest. The travelling family are encamped under the shade of the trees,
+and the kettle hung over the fire shows that they are evidently preparing
+to refresh themselves for farther toil and journeying. The foliage of the
+trees is elaborately executed; the distance is well preserved; and the
+whole possesses great truth to nature; perhaps however, like all '_green_'
+pictures, it is less attractive in an exhibition than works of a warmer
+color. No. 163, 'Portrait of a Gentleman,' has great force, and shows the
+artist's versatility of genius.
+
+F. W. EDMONDS, N. A.--No. 105, 'Beggar's Petition,' is a spirited and
+faithful representation of the cold indifference to the wants of others,
+displayed in the miser's disposition. The figures are of life-size, and
+well drawn. The female supplicating in behalf of the distressed, is
+graceful in attitude, and admirably contrasted with the hoarding miser.
+No. 205, 'The Image Pedler,' is an effort of a higher order; for the
+artist has attempted, and successfully too, to elevate the class of works
+to which it belongs. In short, he has invested a humble subject with a
+moral dignity, which we hope our younger artists, who paint in this
+department, will not lose sight of. An independent farmer has his family
+around him, apparently immediately after dinner, and a strolling pedler
+appears among them, to dispose of his wares; and this gives interest to
+the whole group. The grandmother drops her peeling-knife, and the mother
+takes her infant from the cradle, to gaze at the sights in the pedler's
+basket. The husband, who has been reading in the cool breeze of the
+window, turns to participate in the sport; while the grandfather takes a
+bust of WASHINGTON, places it on the table, and commences an earnest
+elucidation of the character of the, 'Father of his Country' to the little
+children around him. All the figures are intelligent, and the whole scene
+conveys to the mind a _happy family_. In color, light and shade, and
+composition, it is masterly; and we see in it that minuteness of detail
+and careful finish are not incompatible with a broad and luminous effect.
+
+C. L. ELLIOTT has five portraits in the exhibition. His 'Full-length of
+GOV. SEWARD' is a prominent one, although not his most agreeable picture.
+No. 61 is we think the best, and is a well-managed portrait, both in
+drawing and color.
+
+G. W. FLAGG, H.--No. 63, 'Half-length of a Lady,' has considerable merit.
+It is rich and mellow in color, and better we think than many of Mr.
+FLAGG'S recent works. No. 208, 'The Widow,' is a popular picture; pleasing
+in expression, and possessing more refinement of character than is
+observable in many of his other portraits. No. 102, 'Bianca Visconti,' we
+do not admire.
+
+G. FREEMAN.--Miniature portraits, generally large, and highly finished.
+This gentleman has lately arrived from Europe, and is we believe a popular
+artist; yet we do not like his productions.
+
+J. FROTHINGHAM, N. A.--Nos. 32 and 35: portraits exhibiting Mr.
+FROTHINGHAM'S usual bold and free style in this department of art;
+remarkably fine likenesses; true in color, and of pleasing general effect.
+
+H. P. GRAY, N. A.--Mr. GRAY exhibits a number of his works this season. He
+seems to us to sacrifice every thing to color; and his color is not such
+as is generally seen in nature, but rather what he has seen in pictures.
+This we think a mistake, and one which we must be permitted to hope he
+will rectify. In the pictures which he formerly painted, a much closer
+attention to nature is observable. Mr. GRAY has all the feeling of an
+artist, with no ordinary talent; and we regret to find that he wanders
+from the direct path. We were among the first, if not the very first, to
+call public attention to his merits, and it is with reluctance that we
+perform the duty involved in these animadversions. 'Comparisons,' DOGBERRY
+tells us, 'are odorous;' we cannot help remarking, however, that Mr.
+GRAY'S old fellow-student, HUNTINGTON, is (_longa intervallo_) in the
+advance. We prefer, of our artist's present efforts, the picture of 'His
+Wife.' It has a pleasing effect, and is more finished than usual, and more
+natural in tone than his 'Magdalen.'
+
+J. T. HARRIS, A., has two pictures, and both portraits. No. 19 is the
+best. It exhibits a broad, free touch, and correct drawing, and is withal
+an excellent likeness. But we never look at Mr. HARRIS' works without
+being impressed with the idea that they are not finished. They seem to us,
+to borrow an artistical expression, as if they were in a capital state for
+'glazing and toning up.' Otherwise, they are above the ordinary run of
+portraits.
+
+G. P. A. HEALY, H.--Mr. HEALY is a resident of Paris, but an American. He
+is a favorite at the French court, and has by this means a reputation to
+which his works generally do not entitle him. We are bound in justice to
+say of his present effort, however, that it is an exceedingly fine
+picture. It is boldly and masterly executed; forcibly drawn, honestly
+colored, and well expressed. There is too about it a freedom from all the
+usual tricks of the profession, such as a red chair, velvet collar, and
+fantastic back-ground, which we particularly recommend to the attention of
+young artists.
+
+THOMAS HICKS, A., has eight pictures in the collection, but none,
+excepting his portraits, which equal his former productions. No. 264, 'The
+Mother's Grave,' is an oft-repeated subject, and should not be attempted
+unless the artist is able to treat it with entire originality. There are
+good points about it, but none sufficiently attractive to warrant
+particular notice.
+
+INGHAM, N. A., as usual has a fine collection of female portraits, all
+excellent for their careful drawing, lady-like expression, and high
+finish. The drapery and accessories of Mr. INGHAM'S portraits are always
+wonderfully exact to nature; and this greatly enhances the value of
+portraits of this description; for aside from their merit as likenesses,
+they will always be valuable as pictures. His male portrait, No. 113, of
+T. S. CUMMINGS, Esq., is a most admirable likeness, as well as a
+highly-wrought and masterly-painted picture. No. 239, 'Portrait of a
+Lady,' with a fan in her hand, is our favorite among his female heads.
+There is a sweetness and modesty in the expression, not only in the
+countenance but in the whole figure, which makes it peculiarly attractive.
+
+H. INMAN, N. A.--No. 62, 'Portrait of the late Bishop MOORE, of Virginia,'
+is the admiration of all who behold it. In color it surpasses any thing of
+Mr. INMAN'S we have seen in many a day. Clear and luminous, with great
+breadth of light, and a mild, pleasing expression. We of course mean this
+to apply to the head. The hand and part of the drapery are not, in our
+judgment, so well done. No. 104, 'Lady with a Mask,' we do not altogether
+like; yet it is remarkable for being foreshortened in every part, and
+possesses that singular charm of light and shadow, and accidental effect,
+which are the characteristics of our artist's pencil. No. 314, a
+Landscape, although small, is delicately handled, and 'touched in' with
+great neatness and accuracy. In effect it is attractive, and in color
+pleasing. The figure in the fore-ground equals in care and minuteness of
+finish the manner of WOUVERMANS.
+
+N. JOCELYN.--No. 57, 'Portrait of Professor SILLIMAN,' a faithful
+likeness, and carefully-painted portrait of a distinguished individual.
+No. 2, 'Portrait of a Child,' is another finished picture by this artist;
+clear and pearly in color and infantile in expression.
+
+ALFRED JONES.--No. 301, an engraving from MOUNT'S picture of 'Nooning,'
+for the American Art-Union, is one of the largest line-engravings ever
+published in this country, and a work of high order. This style of
+engraving has heretofore received so little encouragement, that until the
+Art-Union started it, no one except Mr. DURAND had ever before dared to
+attempt it. This effort of Mr. JONES does him great credit.
+
+M. LIVINGSTONE, A., has several works in the exhibition, but we cannot
+rank them among the higher class of landscapes. They lack the poetry of
+landscape-painting; but as amateur productions, they are very good.
+
+E. D. MARCHANT, A.--All portraits, but none of high merit. Mr. MARCHANT is
+a persevering artist, who paints good likenesses and pleasing pictures;
+and so far, is doubtless popular with those who employ him.
+
+JOHN MEGAREY has two portraits, and those far surpassing his former works.
+They are carefully painted, without an effort at any thing beyond the
+subject before the artist.
+
+We shall resume and conclude our remarks upon the exhibition in our next
+number.
+
+
+GOSSIP WITH READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS.--We are about to enter upon the
+TWENTY-FOURTH volume of the KNICKERBOCKER, for the advertisement of which,
+please note the second and third pages of the cover of the present number.
+We have nothing farther to add, than that 'what _has been_, is that which
+_shall be_,' in our onward progress. This Magazine, much the oldest in the
+United States, has been established, by the ever-unabated favor of the
+public, upon a basis of unshaken permanence. Its subscription-list
+fluctuates only in advance; it has the _affection_ of its readers, and all
+concerned in its production and promulgation, to a degree wholly
+unexampled; and it is designed not only to maintain, but continually to
+enhance, its just claims upon the liberal patronage of American readers.
+The arrangements for the next volume, if they do not 'preclude
+competition,' will be found, it is confidently believed, to preclude any
+thing like successful rivalry, on the part of any of our contemporaries.
+On this point, however, we choose as heretofore to be judged by the
+public. � � � WE gave in a recent issue two or three extracts from a
+lecture on '_The Inner Life of Man_' delivered by Mr. CHARLES HOOVER, at
+Newark, New-Jersey. This admirable performance has since been repeated to
+a highly gratified audience in this city; and from it we derive the
+following beautiful passage, which we commend to the heart of every lover
+of his kind: 'It is a maxim of patriotism never to despair of the
+republic. Let it be the motto of our philanthropy never to despair of our
+sinning, sorrowing brother, till his last lingering look upon life has
+been taken, and all avenues by which angels approach the stricken heart
+are closed and silent forever. And in such a crisis, let no counsel be
+taken of narrow, niggard sentiment. When in a sea-storm some human being
+is seen in the distant surf, clinging to a plank, that is sometimes driven
+nearer to the shore, and sometimes carried farther off; sometimes buried
+in the surge, and then rising again, as if itself struggling like the
+almost hopeless sufferer it supports, who looks sadly to the shore as he
+rises from every wave, and battling with the billow, mingles his cry for
+help with the wild, mournful scream of the sea-bird; nature in every bosom
+on the shore is instinct with anxious pity for his fate, and darts her
+sympathies to him over the laboring waters. The child drops his
+play-things, and old age grasps its crutch and hurries to the spot; and
+the hand that cannot fling a rope is lifted to heaven for help. What
+though the sufferer be a stranger, a foreigner, an enemy even? Nature in
+trouble, in consternation, shrieks '_He is a man!_' and every heart and
+hand is prompt to the rescue.' 'To a high office and ministry, to a life
+of beneficence, pity and love, each man should deem himself called by a
+divine vocation, by the appointment of nature; and otherwise living,
+should judge himself to be an abortion, a mistake, without signification
+or use in a world like ours. And the beauty, the glory of such a life, is
+not to be reckoned among ideal things heard out of heaven but never
+encountered by the eye. This world has had its CHRIST, its FENELONS, its
+HOWARDS, as well as its CALIGULAS and NEROS. Love hath been at times a
+manifestation as well as a principle; and the train of its glory swept far
+below the stars, and its brightness has fallen in mitigated and mellowed
+rays from the faces of men. As the ambiguous stranger-star of Bethlehem
+had its interpreting angel-song to the herdsmen of the plains, so loving
+men in all ages have given glimpses and interpretations of the love of
+GOD, and of the pity that is felt for the miserable and the guilty in the
+palace and presence-chamber of JEHOVAH. What glory within the scope of
+human imitation and attainment is comparable to that of the beneficent,
+the sympathising lover of his race? What more elevated, pure, and
+beautiful is possible among the achievements of an endless progression in
+heaven itself? MILTON represents the profoundest emotions of joy and
+wonder among the celestial hosts as occasioned by the first anticipative
+disclosures of divine pity toward sinning man; and a greater than MILTON
+assures us that the transport and festival of angelic joy occurs when Pity
+lifts the penitent from his prostration and forgives his folly.' � � �
+EMBELLISHMENT would seem to be the literary order of the day, in more ways
+than one. It has come to be the mode to express the most simple thought in
+the most magniloquent phrase. This propensity to lingual _Euphuism_ has
+given rise to sundry illustrations, in embellished maxims, which are
+particularly amusing. They are of the sort so finely satirized by
+'OLLAPOD,' on one occasion, two or three examples of which we annex. The
+common phrase of ''Tis an ill wind that blows nobody any good' was
+transformed into 'That gale is truly diseased which puffeth benefactions
+to nonentity;' 'Let well enough alone,' into 'Suffer a healthy sufficiency
+to remain in solitude;' and 'What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the
+gander,' into 'The culinary adornments which suffice for the female of the
+race _Anser_, maybe relished also with the masculine adult of the same
+species.' Some London wag, in a kindred spirit, has illustrated the
+cockney song, 'If I had a donkey as vouldn't go, do you think I'd wallop
+him?' etc., as follows: 'The herbaceous boon and the bland recommendation
+to advance, are more operative on the ansinine quadruped than the stern
+imprecation and the oaken cudgel:
+
+  'Had I an ass averse to speed,
+  I ne'er would strike him; no indeed!
+  I'd give him hay, and cry 'Proceed,'
+        And 'Go on EDWARD!''
+
+The same species of satire is now and then visited upon the 'Troubadour
+Songs,' which have become so afflictingly common of late years. Some of
+these we have already given; and we find them on the increase in England.
+We have before us, from the London press of TILT AND BOGUE, 'Sir
+WHYSTLETON MUGGES, a Metrical Romaunte, in three Fyttes,' with copious
+notes. A stanza or two will suffice as a specimen. The knightly hero, it
+needs only to premise, has been jilted by his fair 'ladye-love,' who
+retires to her boudoir, while the knight walks off in despair:
+
+    'Hys herte beat high and quycke;
+  Forth to his tygere he did call,
+  'Bring me my palfrey from his stall,
+    For I moste cotte my stycke!'
+
+    'Ye stede was brought, ye knyghte jomped up,
+  He woulde not even stay to sup,
+    But swyft he rode away;
+  Still groanynge as he went along,
+  And vowing yet to come out stronge,
+    Upon some future day.
+
+  'Alack for poore Syr WHYSTLETON,
+    In love and warre so bold!
+  Ye Ladye BLANCHE hym browne hath done,
+    He is completely solde!
+
+  'Completely solde alack he is,
+    Alack and wel-a-day;
+  Mort DIEU! a bitterre fate is hys
+    Whose trewe love sayth him nay!'
+
+Thus endeth 'Fytte ye First.' We learn from the preface that the 'Rhime of
+the Manne whose Mothre did not Know he was Out,' and 'Ye Lodgemente of
+Maistre FERGISOUN,' are also in the editor's possession, but owing to the
+imperfect state of the MSS., it is doubtful whether they will ever be
+published. They have however been submitted to the inspection of 'The
+PERCY Society!' � � � WE are well pleased to learn that Sir EDWARD LYTTON
+BULWER, the distinguished author, is soon to visit the United States. That
+he will be warmly welcomed and cordially received, we cannot doubt; but we
+have good reason to believe that in the present instance at least our
+admiration of true genius will be tempered by all proper self-respect. Mr.
+BULWER has for many years entertained a desire to visit America. In one of
+his letters to the late WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK, now lying before us, he
+writes: 'I have long felt a peculiar admiration for your great and rising
+country; and it gives me a pleasure far beyond that arising from a vulgar
+notoriety, to think that I am not unknown to its inhabitants. Some time or
+other I hope to visit you, and suffer my present prepossessions to be
+confirmed by actual experience.' � � � WE have received and perused with
+gratification the last report of the '_New-York Asylum for Deaf Mutes_.'
+The institution is in the most flourishing condition, and its usefulness
+greatly increased. We are sorry to perceive, by the following 'specimen of
+composition' of a pupil in the eighth class, that the 'Orphic Sayings' of
+Mr. A. BRONSON ALCOTT are taken as literary models by the deaf and dumb
+students. The ensuing is certainly much better, internally, than anything
+from the transcendental 'seer;' but the manner too nearly resembles his,
+for both to be original. There is the same didactic condensation, the same
+Orphic 'oneness,' which distinguishes all _Alcottism_ proper. It is
+entitled 'Story of Hog:'
+
+    'I walked on the road. I stood near the water. I undressed my
+    feet. I went in the water. I stood under the bridge. I sat on the
+    log. I washed my feet with hands. I looked at large water came. I
+    ran in the water. I ran out the water. The large water floated
+    fast. I afraid. I wiped feet with stockings. I dressed my feet
+    with stockings and shoes. I went on the ground. I stood on the
+    ground. I seen at the hog ate grass. The hog seen at me. I went on
+    the ground. I ran. The hog heard. The hog looked at me. It ran and
+    jumped. The hog ran under the fence and got his head under the
+    fence and want to ran out the fence! I caught ears its hog. The
+    hog shout. I pulled the hog out the fence. I struck a hog with
+    hand. I rided on the hog ran and jumped fast. The hog ran fell on
+    near the water. I rided off a hog. I stood. I held one ear its
+    hog. The hog slept lies on near the water. I waited. I leaved. I
+    went from the hog. The hog awoke. It rose. It saw not me. It ran
+    and jumped. The hog went from the water. The hog went in the mud
+    and water. The hog wallowed in the mud and water became very
+    dirty. It slept. I went. I went into the house.'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE EKKALAEOBION is the name given to an establishment opposite the
+Washington Hotel, in Broadway, where the formation of chickens, _ab
+initio_, is 'practised to a great extent.' And really, it is in some
+respects an awful exhibition, to a reflecting mind. It is as it were a
+visible exposition of the source of life. You see the pulse of existence
+throbbing in the yet unformed mass, which assumes, day after day, the
+image of its kind; until at length the little creature knocks for
+admittance into this breathing world; steps forth from the shell in which
+it had been so long 'cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in;' and straitway
+walks abroad, 'regenerated, disenthralled,' and ready for its 'grub.' By
+all means, reader, go and see this interesting and instructive exhibition.
+It is provocative of much reflection, aside from the mere contemplation of
+it as a matter of curiosity. � � � THE correspondent who sends us the
+following, writes upon the envelope containing it: 'I have endeavored to
+preserve the measure of the original, and at the same time to present a
+literal translation.' It will be conceded, we think, that he has been
+successful in his endeavor. Perhaps in some lines (as in '_Pertransivit
+gladius_') the translation is a little _too_ literal:
+
+
+STABAT MATER.
+
+  I.                              I.
+
+  Stabat mater dolorosa,          Near the cross the Mother weeping
+  Juxta crucem lacrymosa,         Stood, her watch in sorrow keeping
+    Dum pendebat filius:            While was hanging there her SON:
+  Cujus animam gementem,          Through her soul in anguish groaning,
+  Contristantem et dolentem,      O most sad, HIS fate bemoaning,
+    Pertransivit gladius.           Through and through that sword was run.
+
+  II.                             II.
+
+  O quam tristis et afflicta      Oh how sad with woe oppressed,
+  Fuit illa benedicta,            Was she then, the Mother blessed,
+    Mater unigeniti:                Who the sole-begotten bore:
+  Qu� moerebat, et dolebat,       As she saw his pain and anguish,
+  Et tremebat, cum videbat        She did tremble, she did languish,
+    Nati poenas inclyti.            Weep her holy Son before.
+
+  III.                            III.
+
+  Quis est homo qui non fleret,   Who is he his tears concealing,
+  Christi matrem si videret       Could have seen such anguish stealing
+    In tanto supplicio?             Through the Saviour-mother's breast?
+  Quis posset non contristari,    Who his deepest groans could smother,
+  Piam matrem contemplari,        Had he seen the holy Mother
+    Dolentem cum filio?             By her Son with grief oppressed!
+
+  IV.                            IV.
+
+  Pro peccatis su� gentis        Christ for Israel's transgression
+  Vidit Jesum in tormentis,      Saw she suffer thus oppression,
+    Et flagellis subditum;         Torment, and the cruel blow:
+  Vidit suum dulcem natum        Saw Him desolate and dying;
+  Morientem, desolatum,          Him she loved, beheld Him sighing
+    Dum emisit spiritum.           Forth His soul in deepest woe.
+
+  V.                             V.
+
+  Eja mater, fons amoris,        Source of love, thy grief, O Mother,
+  Me sentire vim doloris         Grant with thee to share another--
+    Fac, ut tecum lugeam.          Grant that I with thee may weep:
+  Fac ut ardeat cor meum,        May my heart with love be glowing,
+  In amando Christum Deum,       All on Christ my God bestowing,
+    Ut sibi complaceam.            In His favor ever keep.
+
+  VI.                            VI.
+
+  Saneta mater, istud agas,      This, oh holy Mother! granting,
+  Crucifixi fige plagas          In my heart the wounds implanting
+    Cordi meo valide:              Of His cross, oh let me bear:
+  Tui nati vulnerati,            Pangs with which thy Son when wounded
+  Jam dignati pro me pati,       Deigned for me to be surrounded,
+    Poenas mecum divide.          [] Grant, oh grant that I may share.
+
+  VII.                           VII.
+
+  Fac me vere tecum flere,       Be my eyes with tears o'erflowing,
+  Crucifixo condolere,           For the crucified bestowing,
+    Donec ego vixero:              Till my eyes shall close in death:
+  Juxta crucem tecum stare,      Ever by that cross be standing,
+  Te libenter sociare            Willingly with thee demanding
+    In planctu desidero.           But to share each mournful breath.
+
+  VIII.                          VIII.
+
+  Virgo virginum pr�clara,       Thou of virgins blest forever,
+  Mihi jam non sis amara         Oh deny I pray thee never
+    Fac me tecum plangere;         That I may lament with thee:
+  Fadut portem Christi mortem,   Be my soul His death enduring,
+  Passionis ejus sortem,         And His passion--thus securing
+    Et plagas recolere.            Of His pains the memory.
+
+  IX.                            XI.
+
+  Fac me plagis vulnerari,       With those blows may I be smitten,
+  Cruce hac inebriari,           In my heart that cross be written,
+    Ob amorem filii:               For thy Son's dear love alway:
+  Inflammatus et accensus        Glowing, burning with affection,
+  Per te, virgo, sim defensus    Grant me, Virgin! thy protection,
+    In die judicii.                In the dreaded judgment-day.
+
+  X.                             X.
+
+  Fac me cruce custodiri,        May that cross its aid extend me,
+  Morte Christi pr�muniri,       May the death of Christ defend me,
+    Confoveri gratia:              With its saving grace surround;
+  Quando corpus morietur,        And when life's last link is riven,
+  Fac ut anim� donetur           To my soul be glory given,
+    Paradisi gloria.               That in Paradise is found.
+
+_St. Paul's College._                                         G. H. H.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'_A Story of Sorrow and Crime_' is an affecting monitory sketch, devoid of
+that mawkishness which is sometimes the characteristic of kindred
+performances. The writer's reflections upon the career of his hero, remind
+us of that beautiful passage in one of BLAIR'S essays: 'Life is short: the
+poor pittance of seventy years is worth being a villain for. What matters
+it if your neighbor lies in a splendid tomb? Sleep you with innocence!
+Look behind you through the track of time; a vast desert lies open in the
+retrospect; through this desert have your fathers journeyed on, until
+wearied with years and sorrows, they sunk from the walks of men. You must
+leave them where they fell, and you are to go a little farther, where you
+will find eternal rest. Whatever you may have to encounter between the
+cradle and the grave, every moment is big with innumerable events, which
+come not in slow succession, but bursting forcibly from a revolving and
+unknown cause, fly over this orb with diversified influence.' � � � 'F.
+P.'s '_Western Adventures_' have good _points_ about them, but if
+published entire, would we think disappoint himself perhaps as much as his
+readers. Here is an anecdote, however, which is worth 'jotting down' in
+types: 'I met not long after in New-York a man who had just been induced
+to rent the very hotel in Kentucky which was the scene of the reverses I
+have been describing. Aware that I had at one time kept the establishment,
+he was anxious to know my opinion of its pecuniary promise. 'I don't
+expect to make much the first year,' said he; 'I shall be satisfied if I
+'realize' all expenses. But do you think I shall clear myself the first
+year?' 'I haven't the slightest doubt of it,' I replied; '_I cleared
+myself_ before the first six months were up, and was d--d _glad_ to get
+off so; and I rather guess that _you'll_ be too, in about half that time.'
+And he was!' � � � Could there be a more affecting picture than that of a
+fond mother learning for the first time from the tell-tale prattle of her
+little ones that she is 'given over to darkness and the worm' by her
+friends, who had disguised from her the fatal truth? Such is the scene
+depicted in these pathetic lines:
+
+  'He speaketh now: 'Oh, mother dear!'
+    Murmurs the little child:
+  And there is trouble in his eyes,
+    Those large blue eyes so mild:
+
+  'Oh, mother dear! they say that soon,
+    When here I seek for thee
+  I shall not find thee--nor out there,
+    Under the old oak-tree;
+
+  'Nor up stairs in the nursery,
+    Nor any where, they say:
+  Where wilt thou go to, mother dear?
+    Oh, do not go away!'
+
+  There was long silence, a deep hush,
+    And then the child's low sob:
+  _Her_ quivering eyelids close: one hand
+    Keeps down the heart's quick throb.
+
+  And the lips move, though sound is none,
+    That inward voice is prayer.
+  And hark! 'THY will, O LORD, be done!'
+    And tears are trickling there--
+
+  Down that pale cheek, on that young head;
+    And round her neck he clings;
+  And child and mother murmur out
+    Unutterable things.
+
+  _He_ half unconscious, _she_ deep-struck
+    With sudden, solemn truth,
+  That number'd are her days on earth--
+    Her shroud prepared in youth:
+
+  That all in life her heart holds dear
+    GOD calls her to resign:
+  She hears, feels, trembles--but looks up,
+    And sighs 'THY will be mine!''
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'I came down from Albany the other evening,' writes a correspondent, 'in
+that floating palace, the KNICKERBOCKER steamer; I slept in your
+KNICKERBOCKER state-room; arrived in town, I took after dinner a
+KNICKERBOCKER omnibus, and rode up to the 'Westminster Abbey Bowling
+Saloon,' named of KNICKERBOCKER; I called on you with my article for the
+KNICKERBOCKER Magazine; and on my way down, enjoyed a delightful ablution
+at the KNICKERBOCKER Bath; stepped into the KNICKERBOCKER Theatre, and
+'laughed consumedly' over an amusing play; and finally, closed with a cup
+of delicious tea, green and black, and anchovy-toast, at KNICKERBOCKER
+Hall. Every thing, I was glad to see, was KNICKERBOCKER.' Very flattering;
+yet we dare say our friend was not aware that this Magazine was the
+_pioneer_ in the use of this popular name in Gotham, and that its example
+has suggested, one after another, the namesakes to which he has alluded.
+Such, howbeit, is the undeniable fact. � � � We remarked the example of
+_catachresis_ to which 'L.' alludes, and laughed at it, we venture to say,
+as heartily as himself. It was not quite so glaring however as the
+confused images of a celebrated Irish advocate: 'I smell a rat; I see it
+brewing in the storm; and I will crush it in the bud!' � � � We find
+several things to admire in our Detroit friend's '_Tale of Border
+Warfare_;' but he can't 'talk Indian'--that is very clear. The 'abrogynes'
+are not in the habit of making interminable speeches: they leave that to
+white members of Congress, who pump up a feeling in a day's speech 'for
+Buncombe.' Do you remember what HALLECK says of RED-JACKET?
+
+  'The spell of eloquence is thine, that reaches
+    The heart, and makes the wisest head its sport;
+  And there's one rare, strange virtue in thy speeches,
+    The secret of their mastery--_they are short_.'
+
+Not one man in a thousand can talk or write the true 'Indian.' Our friend
+SA-GO-SEN-O-TA, formerly known as Col. WILLIAM L. STONE, is one of the
+best Indian writers in this country. His late letter 'To the Sachems,
+Chiefs, and Warriors of the Seneca Indians,' acknowledging the honor they
+had done him in electing him a chief, is a perfect thing in its kind. May
+it be long before the 'MASTER OF BREATH' shall call him to 'the fair
+hunting-grounds, through clouds bright as fleeces of gold, upon a ladder
+as beautiful as the rainbow!' � � � Our entertaining '_Dartmoor Prisoner_'
+has a pleasant story of a fellow-captive who on one occasion performed
+that 'cautionary' experiment which is sometimes denominated 'putting your
+foot in it.' The term is of legitimate origin, it should seem. According
+to the _Asiatic Researches_, a very curious mode of trying the title to
+land is practised in Hindostan. Two holes are dug in the disputed spot, in
+each of which the lawyers on either side put one of their legs, and remain
+there until one of them is tired, or complains of being stung by the
+insects, in which case his client is defeated. In this country it is the
+client and not the lawyer who 'puts his foot into it!' � � � We have
+commenced in the present, and shall conclude in our next number, a
+'_Legend of the Conquest of Spain_,' by WASHINGTON IRVING. We derive it
+from the same source whence we received the 'Legend of Don RODERICK,'
+lately published in these pages. We commend its graphic limnings and
+stirring incidents to the admiration of our readers. � � � A FRIEND and
+correspondent in a sister city dashes in with a rich brush, in one of his
+familiar letters to us, a sketch of a boss-painter, who was renovating the
+writer's house with sundry pots of paint; a conceited, half-informed prig,
+who having grown rich, talks of 'going to Europe in the steam-boat,' and
+has a huge fancy for seeing Italy. 'Yes,' said the house-and-sign RAPHAEL,
+'I must see Rome and Athens; them Romans allers made a great impression on
+me; the land of APELLES and XERXES; ah! that must be worth travelling
+for.' 'Would you not rather run over England?' I asked; but the ass
+_poohed_ at England, and on the strength of his daubing our house-blinds,
+claimed an interest in the Fine Arts abroad: 'No, Sir, give me Italy--the
+Loover and the Vattykin; them's the places for my money! Gods! how I
+should like to rummage over them old-masters! They beat _us_ all
+hollow--that's a fact. I'll give in to them. There never was such painters
+before, nor never will be. I want to study 'em.' 'Yes,' I rejoined;
+''twould interest you, doubtless; and after having studied the great
+painters in Italy, you might return by way of Switzerland, and scrape
+acquaintance with the _glaciers_.' The booby did not _take_, but only
+stared and said: 'Oh, they're famous for glass-work there, be they?' This
+lover of the Fine Arts had a counterpart in the man who having 'made as
+much money as he wanted by tradin' in Boston,' went 'a-travelling abroad;'
+and while in Florence, called on POWERS the sculptor, with a design to
+'patronize' him a little. After looking at his 'Greek Slave,' his 'Eve,'
+and other gems of art, he remarked that he 'thought they'd look a good
+'eal better if they had some clothes on. I'm pretty well off,' he
+continued, 'and ha'n't a chick nor child in the world; and I thought I'd
+price a _statty_ or two. What's the damage, now, for that one you're
+peckin' at?' 'It should be worth from four to five thousand dollars, I
+think,' answered POWERS. 'What! five thousand dollars for _that 'are_! I
+cal'lated to buy me a piece of _stattyary_ before I went home, but
+_that's_ out of the question! _Hasn't stattyary riz lately?_ How's
+paintin's here now?' � � � Just complaints are made by our city
+contemporaries of the exorbitant rates of postage upon weekly periodicals.
+Mr. WILLIS complains, in the '_New-Mirror_' weekly journal, that country
+postmasters charge so much postage on that periodical by mail, that in
+many cases it would make the work cost to its country subscribers something
+like ten dollars a year! All postage in this country is at too high a
+rate; and so long as it remains so, the law will continue to be evaded.
+'Cheating UNCLE SAM' is not considered a very heinous offence. There is
+nothing one robs with so little compunction as one's country. It is at the
+very worst robbing only eighteen millions of people. � � � The lines sent
+us in rejoinder to the stanzas of 'C. W. D.,' in a late issue, would not
+be _original_ in our pages; nor could we hope to have many _new_ readers
+for them, after they have appeared in, and of course been copied from,
+that exceedingly pleasant and well-edited daily journal, the _Boston
+Evening Transcript_. � � � HAUFFMAN, the German poet, was recently expelled
+from the Prussian dominions, and all his works proscribed thenceforth. 'Served
+him right;' for in one of his works appears the 'word following, to wit:'
+'_Sleuerverweigerungsverfassungsmassigberechtig_!'--meaning a man who is
+exempt by the constitution from the payment of taxes. 'Myscheeves thick'
+must needs follow such terrific words. 'We have heard,' says a London
+critic, in allusion to this jaw-breaker, 'of a gentleman, a member of the
+_Marionettenschauspielhausengesellschaft_, who was said to be an excellent
+performer on the '_Constantinopolitanischetudelsackpfeife_!'' � � � We owe
+a word of apology to our friends the publishers, for the omission of
+notices which we had prepared of their publications, and which are crowded
+out by our title-page and index, that were forgotten until the last
+moment. We shall 'bring up arrears' in our next.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly
+Magazine, June 1844, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KNICKERBOCKER ***
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly
+Magazine, June 1844, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly Magazine, June 1844
+       Volume 23, Number 6
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Lewis Gaylord Clark
+
+Release Date: May 15, 2008 [EBook #25475]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KNICKERBOCKER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<div id="masthead">
+	<h1 class="issue_title"><a class="pagenum" id="page511" title="511">&nbsp;</a>THE KNICKERBOCKER.</h1>
+	<div id="mastdate">
+		<p id="leftmast">Vol. <abbr title="23">XXIII.</abbr></p>
+		<p id="centermast">June, 1844.</p>
+		<p id="rightmast"><abbr title="number">No.</abbr> 6.</p>
+	</div>
+</div><!--Masthead-->
+<div class="article">
+	<h2 class="title">THE PLAGUE AT CONSTANTINOPLE.</h2>
+	<p class="byline">BY AN EYE-WITNESS.</p>
+<p><span class="first_word">In</span> 1837 I was a resident in Galata, one of the faubourgs of Constantinople,
+sufficiently near the scenes of death caused by the ravages of
+the plague to be thoroughly acquainted with them, and yet to be separated
+from the Turkish part of the population of that immense city.
+It is not material to the present sketch to dwell upon the subject of my
+previous life, or the causes which had induced me to visit the capital of
+the East at such a period of mortality; and I will therefore only add,
+that circumstances of a peculiarly painful nature obliged me to locate
+myself in Galata, where there were none to sympathize in my feelings,
+or any one with whom I could even exchange more than a word of conversation.
+I saw none but the widowed owner of the house in which I
+had a chamber, her daughter Aleukâ, and Petraki, her little son.</p>
+
+<p>While the epidemic raged, we four endeavored to keep up a rigid
+quarantine. Each recommended to the other the strictest observance of
+our mutual agreement not to receive any thing from without doors, except
+the necessaries of life; and whenever we left the house, which was
+to be as seldom as possible, not to come in contact with any one. Whenever
+I went out I invariably wore an oil-cloth cloak, and by the aid of
+my cane prevented the dogs of the streets, which are there so numerous,
+from rubbing against me. If I visited any one, which I seldom did, I
+always sat on a bench or chair to prevent conveying or receiving contagion;
+and before even entering the house, I always underwent the
+preparation of being smoked in a box, which during the prevalence of
+the plague is placed near its entrance for that purpose. These boxes
+were some eight feet high by three square, the platform on which the
+feet rested elevated about a foot above the earth, so as to admit under it
+a dish containing the ingredients of the prophylactic, and a hole in the
+door to let the face out during the smoking of the clothes and body.
+We procured our daily supply of provisions from a <em>Bak-kal</em>, a retail
+grocer, whose shop was directly under our front window; an itinerant
+<em>Ekmekjer</em>, or bread-man, brought our bread to the door; our vegetables
+were procured from a gardener close by, and our water we drew from a
+<a class="pagenum" id="page512" title="512">&nbsp;</a>cistern under the house: in fine, our food was either smoked or saturated
+before we touched it, and every possible precaution observed to cut our
+little family off from the dreadful scourge, &#8216;the pestilence which walketh
+in darkness and the destruction which wasteth at noon day.&#8217; The mother
+and daughter throughout the day spun silk, knitted woolen suits, or
+embroidered kerchiefs for head dresses, called in Romaic <em>fakiolee</em>, and
+even to a late hour of the night they frequently continued the same employment,
+until the plague prevented the sale of their handiwork, and
+their materials were all used up. All day long they would sit upon
+the sofa of their little apartment, facing the street, and while their hands
+toiled for a subsistence, the widow&#8217;s daughter hummed a plaintive air,
+or occasionally broke the silence by conversing with her mother. The
+son was yet too young to be of assistance to his desolate mother and
+sister, and except when he said his letters to them, spent the day in idleness.
+As to my own employment, the dull period of time passed with
+them was a blank in my existence; and yet, such is the influence of
+past penury and pain, that I now recall them with pleasure.</p>
+
+<p>The weather was generally very warm, and south-west breezes over
+the sea of Marmora prevailed. From our highest windows we could
+observe sluggish seamen lounging on the decks of their vessels in the
+port, afraid to land amid the pestilence. Here and there a vessel strove
+against the current of the Bosphorus to gain an anchorage; or would
+slowly float down that stream into the open sea, on its way to healthier
+and happier Europe. The starving dogs at nightfall would howl dismally,
+bewailing the loss of the benevolent hands from which they
+usually received their food; the gulls and cormorants floated languidly
+over our dwelling, overpowered by the heat; and the dead silence, which
+in the afternoon and evenings prevailed, made a most melancholy and
+affecting impression on my mind.</p>
+
+<p>The plague that summer, (I may limit the period to three months,)
+carried off more than fifty thousand persons. For some time the mortality
+amounted to a thousand <em lang="la" xml:lang="la">per diem</em>. The number of corpses which
+passed the limited range of my window daily increased; and after witnessing
+the spectacle for some time, I always insensibly avoided the sight
+of the dead, and felt a cold shudder run over my frame whenever the
+voice of the priest accompanying the corpses struck my ear. So dreadful
+is the malady, so surely contagious, and so mortal, that so soon as
+attacked, the unfortunate being is deserted by relatives and friends, and
+when dead, two or four porters beside a priest were generally the only
+persons who attended the body to the grave. When the deceased is a
+Mussulman, he is more frequently attended during his illness, and after
+death to his tomb, than if a Christian. With the former, the plague is
+a visitation of Providence, from which it is both useless and a sin to
+escape, while with the latter not only is it deemed necessary to provide
+for one&#8217;s own life, but even to do so at the sacrifice of the dearest friend.
+Often I noticed a dead body tied on a plank which a single porter carried
+on his back; at other times the object would be concealed within a bag,
+and then the grave was a ditch common to all, into which the porter
+would shake off his load and return for another. No priest or Imam
+there presided over the funeral scene; few or none were the prayers
+<a class="pagenum" id="page513" title="513">&nbsp;</a>that were said over the remains: he who but a short week before had
+been proud of his strength or condition, or she who in the same short
+space of time previous excelled in beauty and grace, there lay confounded
+in one neglected, unhonored, and putrefying mass. The air
+became impregnated with the effluvia; the houses around the Turkish
+cemeteries, which are mostly in the heart of the city, where the dead
+are interred, but some three feet beneath the surface, were soon deserted,
+their owners dead. The ever-green cypress trees under whose umbrageous
+quiet the beautiful children once played, now moaned over
+their little graves; and in fine, every one in the deserted city walked
+with measured steps, apprehensive of threatening death: awe and consternation
+filled the minds of all.</p>
+
+<p>The Sultan&#8217;s own household was not free from the scourge. By some
+means it found access to his servants and carried off about fifty of them.
+Their bodies were cast into the Bosphorus, and the Sultan fled to another
+palace. The ministers of the Sublime Porte suffered severely in their
+families; their wives and slaves died off in numbers; and even the minister
+of foreign affairs is said to have taken it and narrowly escaped.
+Few survived when once attacked, and the chances of recovery were
+scarcely worth calculating. And yet among the Mussulmans little or
+no precaution was taken; for although by a government order all the
+principal offices were provided with fumigatory boxes, they were seldom
+used. The Mussulman Sheiks declared that the contagion came from
+Heaven, and could only be averted by Almighty power. Yet it was a
+well-known fact that cleanliness of habits went far toward preserving
+against the disease; and frequent change of apparel, with ordinary precautions,
+sufficed to preserve many who otherwise would doubtless have
+taken it.</p>
+
+<p>But I think the reader will be able, from the preceding sketch, to
+form some idea of the nature and extent of the mortality of the plague
+in 1837. While it raged, every feeling approaching to a similarity with
+what is known to denote an attack, excites apprehension. A pimple,
+through the medium of the imagination, is transformed into a horrid
+<em>bubo</em>; a cold or a simple head-ache, however trifling, are attributed to
+the dreaded malady; and even the firmest mind at such times quails
+under trifling appearances. In some cases the scene of agony closes in
+a few hours&#8212;even minutes; they fall down and almost immediately
+expire. Others linger for twenty-four or forty-eight hours, or several
+days elapse before death puts an end to their sufferings. Some again
+bear it in their systems for several days, and attend to their usual occupations:
+at length it appears, they fall ill and expire, or recover. Few
+account for their being attacked; they do not remember having touched
+any one suspected or exposed; and again, the porters, whose duty it is
+to convey the attacked to the hospitals and the corpses to their graves,
+escape. The mother attends upon her dying child, sacrifices every apprehension
+to her affection, and yet escapes, or the child brings it to its
+parent, who dies, while the innocent cause survives. No cure has yet
+been found for it; and Nature must be left to take her course. Extreme
+heat or cold have a favorable effect upon it; but the temperate climate
+of Constantinople, with the frequent dearth of water, the dust, and other
+impurities, tend greatly to its dissemination.</p>
+
+<p><a class="pagenum" id="page514" title="514">&nbsp;</a>It was therefore during this painful period that I resided in Galata;
+free, as I had hoped, from the contagion; and yet it found its way into
+our little family, accompanied by all its horrors.</p>
+
+<p>One morning in the latter part of the month of October, invited by the
+clearness of the air and a fresh breeze which had scarcely strength sufficient
+to ruffle the water of the harbor, I left my humble apartment and
+ascended the steep hill of Pera. The view&#8212;from the small tuft of graves
+near the Galata tower, some of which were fresh; of the surrounding
+villages and the great city itself, where, although devastation had been
+and still was being carried on with horror, there seemed to reign the
+most perfect tranquility, resembling the calm bosom of the treacherous
+sea, quiet over the lifeless bodies of its victims and the wreck of the
+noble vessels which had furrowed its surface&#8212;relieved the monotony of
+my existence. I gazed longingly upon the many ships lying before
+me at anchor in the stream, which could in a few days bear me far
+away from the scenes of death and desolation that surrounded me; or
+I exchanged a word with any passing acquaintance who ventured from
+Pera to his counting-house in Galata. A longer walk gave rise to too
+many sad reflections. Farther on was the <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Petit Champ des Morts</em>, a
+small Turkish cemetery, here and there spotted with new-made graves,
+over which more than one aged female mourned the loss of her life&#8217;s
+companion, or perhaps it would be one of fewer years, who wept the
+fatal destiny of her young husband, brother, sister, or child.</p>
+
+<p>After spending the best part of the day in walking about, I returned
+to the house of my residence. As usual, I found the door fastened; I
+knocked, but no one answered me. Again I knocked, and called repeatedly
+before my voice was heard. At length a low moan, and then a
+scream, issued from within. Petraki, the widow&#8217;s son, opened the door,
+and with a pale and frightened countenance told me his mother had suddenly
+been taken very ill. There was no alternative. I entered her
+sitting-room, where in the company of the family I had spent many
+quiet hours. Now how changed! The mother lay upon the sofa, pale;
+and breathing with difficulty. Aleukâ, the daughter, knelt by her side
+on the floor, though greatly agitated herself, and endeavoring to calm
+her mother&#8217;s apprehensions. Without once reflecting on the possible
+consequences, I sat down on a chair beside the sufferer, felt her pulse,
+and as well as I could, made inquiries after her health. Her pulse was
+quick, her tongue white and thickly furred, and extreme lassitude was
+shown by her dejected countenance. Uncertain as to the nature of her
+disease, and unable to offer any alleviation of her sufferings, I retired to
+my apartment. There I <em>did</em> reflect on the danger which I had incurred,
+and the possibility of the widow having caught the plague.</p>
+
+<p>Every hour she became worse; her sufferings were intensely painful;
+and to shorten the recital of the sad scene of that night, I will only add,
+that the horrid disease showed itself on her person before midnight, and
+at break of day her spirit fled. Of course my mind now prepared for
+death. I felt confident that I also should soon be a victim to the plague.
+Early in the morning I called a passing priest and had the widow&#8217;s remains
+conveyed to their last abode&#8212;I knew not where. I had no place
+to fly to; every door would be closed against me; and I retired to my
+<a class="pagenum" id="page515" title="515">&nbsp;</a>apartment, feeling that I was stepping into my tomb while yet alive.
+There I was not long kept in suspense, for soon the plague attacked
+first Petraki then myself. When giddiness, the first symptom of the
+plague, seized me, and I could no longer stand, but fell despairingly on
+my bed, what were my feelings! But let me not recall them <em>now</em>; the
+mental agony which I suffered it is impossible to describe, and I shudder
+at the recollection. Aleukâ attended upon me and her brother with all
+the tenderness and care and forgetfulness of self which is so characteristic
+of the female character. I begged her to leave me to die alone, to
+place water by my side and depart, but she would not hear of it.</p>
+
+<p>The first night after his attack Petraki expired, and on the following
+morning was borne away; and I have an indistinct recollection of being
+visited on the evening of the same day by the priest and porters. They
+endeavored to prevail upon Aleukâ to desert me, saying that in a few
+hours I would cease to exist. But she constantly refused, determined
+she replied, to remain by my side until my sufferings were ended.</p>
+
+<p class="prose_break">&middot;&middot;&middot;&middot;&middot;</p>
+
+<p>For several days I was delirious. I remember I knew of nothing;
+nothing but water passed my lips. Sores broke out over my body, and
+those on my groins and arm-pits were not closed for some months. My
+neck however was free, and this no doubt saved my life. On the seventh
+day I regained my senses, and found myself in my apartment, the wasted
+figure of my guardian angel still watching over me. I remember, on
+perceiving in me a favorable change, how her countenance was lit up
+with joy! Oh, Friendship! how seldom are you found with the sincerity
+which I then beheld in an humble and uneducated girl! Just
+when I thought all my prospects in life were blighted; when I had keenly
+felt the unkindness of mankind, and despaired of ever again finding
+any thing in this world worth living for; when I had already bidden it
+farewell, and the other world was full in view; I found what alone can
+make life delightful even in poverty and misfortune&#8212;friendship and
+love. Soon the violence of the disease abated, and I was saved.</p>
+
+<p>I must hastily pass over my long and painful convalescence. A
+month elapsed before I could venture to go beyond doors. Aleukâ attended
+upon me, and through her economy my purse yet held out. The
+plague had greatly subsided; the month of December set in with uncommon
+severity of cold, and checked its progress. Oh! the exquisite
+delight with which I left my hard and burning bed and close apartment,
+the scenes of all my sufferings, for the first time! With a prayer of
+thankfulness on my lips, I crossed the threshold of the humble dwelling,
+and once more slowly mounted the steep hill of Pera.</p>
+
+<p>It was a bright, sunny, clear morning; the fresh, cool breeze from
+the Black Sea blew over me, infusing new strength and life into my
+shattered frame. The streets were again re-peopled, and business renewed.
+No one recognized me in my pale, haggard and swollen countenance;
+and when I presented myself at the door of a countryman in
+Pera, he drew back with an exclamation of surprise, as if he had beheld
+a spirit.</p>
+
+<p>My short story is told. I have comprised in a few words the tale of
+many long days of agony and suffering, both mental and corporeal. I
+<a class="pagenum" id="page516" title="516">&nbsp;</a>fast regained my strength and vigor; the hollow furrows of my forehead
+and cheeks soon gave way to the effects of a generous diet; and I once
+more stood forth in health and full powers.</p>
+
+<p>But you will ask, &#8216;And where is she who watched over you during
+your moments of suffering?&#8212;whom you called your guardian angel,
+and of whose friendship and love you spoke in such feeling terms?&#8217; I
+reply, that she sits even now at my side; her handsome and intelligent
+countenance reading in my face the varied emotions to which the tracing
+of these lines give rise. Devoted Aleukâ is my loving and much-loved
+wife.</p>
+
+<p class="sign"><span class="author">J. P. B.</span></p>
+
+</div>
+<div class="article">
+	<h2 class="title">A SONG</h2>
+	<p class="byline">BY JOHN WATERS.</p>
+	<div class="poem">
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p><span class="first_word">Time</span> was I thought that precious name</p>
+			<p class="i2">Less meet for Court than Alley;</p>
+			<p>But now, no thrilling sound hath Fame,</p>
+			<p class="i2">No clarion note, like <span class="special_name">Sally</span>!</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>There seems at first, within the word,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Some cause to smile, or rally;</p>
+			<p>But once by her sweet glance preferr&#8217;d,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Ev&#8217;n Heaven itself loves <span class="special_name">Sally</span>!</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>The world moves round when move her Eyes,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Grace o&#8217;er each step doth dally,</p>
+			<p>The breath is lost in glad surprize;</p>
+			<p class="i2">There is no belle, like <span class="special_name">Sally</span>!</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>Old hearts grow young, off flies the gout,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Time stops, his Glass to rally;</p>
+			<p>I hardly know what I&#8217;m about&#8212;</p>
+			<p class="i2">When lost in thought on <span class="special_name">Sally</span>!</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>Sometimes she&#8217;s small, sometimes she&#8217;s tall,</p>
+			<p class="i2">I can&#8217;t tell how, vocally;</p>
+			<p>For there&#8217;s a spirit over all,</p>
+			<p class="i2">That beams abroad from <span class="special_name">Sally</span>!</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>A spirit bright, a beam of light,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Ah! fear not that I rally&#8212;</p>
+			<p>No man can Evil think in sight</p>
+			<p class="i2">Of this pure-hearted <span class="special_name">Sally</span>!</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>And yet Time was, I thought the name</p>
+			<p class="i2">For Court less fit, than Alley;</p>
+			<p>While now, no herald sound hath Fame,</p>
+			<p class="i2">No clarion note, but <span class="special_name">Sally</span>!</p>
+		</div>
+	</div>
+</div>
+<div class="article">
+	<h2 class="title"><a class="pagenum" id="page517" title="517">&nbsp;</a>REMINISCENCES OF A DARTMOOR PRISONER.</h2>
+
+	<p class="subtitle">NUMBER THREE.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="first_word">Under</span> the circumstances related in my last number, it will readily
+	be inferred that sleep was out of the question. The only alternative
+	was to sit or lie down and meditate upon the next change which might
+	befal us. There was but little disposition for merriment at such a time
+	and place; yet there was one man, named John Young, but called by
+	his companions &#8216;Old John Young,&#8217; who in despite of empty stomach and
+	aching limbs, amused himself and annoyed all others by singing a line
+	of one and a verse of another, of all the old songs he could recollect
+	from his earliest boyhood; dispensing his croaking melody with such
+	untiring zeal as to keep the most weary awake had they been inclined
+	to sleep.</p>
+
+	<p>At break of day we began to try to move about, and gradually
+	straighten ourselves, which was something of an effort, stiffened and benumbed
+	as we were with remaining in our wet clothing so many hours.
+	We had now an opportunity of examining our habitation. It was a
+	building of about four hundred feet long, by seventy-five or eighty wide,
+	three stories high, and built of stone, with massive doors and strongly-grated
+	windows, the floors being of stone or cement, and perfectly fire-proof.
+	Each floor formed one entire room, except being divided by five
+	rows of posts running the whole length of the building, by which the
+	prisoners slung their hammocks. The prisoners were divided off in
+	&#8216;messes&#8217; or families of six or eight, each occupying room sufficient to
+	sit around one of their chests, which usually served as a mess-table.
+	One row or tier of these messes were ranged next to the walls on each
+	side, and two rows down the centre, back to back, as it were, leaving two
+	avenues, or thoroughfares, the whole length of the building. The entire
+	arrangement resembled the stalls in a stable, more than any thing
+	else I can compare it to.</p>
+
+	<p>There were seven of these prisons, all of about the same size and
+	construction, one of which was not occupied. The whole was enclosed
+	in a circular wall of about twenty feet high, and covering a space of
+	from eight to ten acres of ground. This was divided in three parts by
+	a wall similar to the outside one. The centre yard was occupied by
+	No. 7, allotted to the colored prisoners, and the other two yards had
+	three prisons in each. On the outside wall were platforms and sentry-boxes
+	at short distances, for the guards. About fifteen feet within that
+	wall was a high iron railing. In front of the main entrance was a large
+	square, used for drilling soldiers and other purposes, and twice a week
+	as a market for the country people; and on each side of this were the
+	barracks and hospital, and in front of these were the officers&#8217; quarters.
+	This dépôt was situated upon a hill, surrounded by a vast common of
+	many miles in extent, without a bush or tree to relieve the dreary waste;
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page518" title="518">&nbsp;</a>and from its elevated position it was generally shrouded by clouds,
+	rendering it chilly and uncomfortable the greater part of the year.</p>
+
+	<p>The daily allowance of food consisted of a pound of beef, a pint of
+	soup, and a pound of bread to each man; that is to say, at the rate of
+	one hundred pounds of raw beef to an hundred men. The meat was
+	cut up and put into large boilers, with sufficient barley to thicken it for
+	soup. This was boiled until the meat would leave the bone, and the
+	barley was well cooked; and when ready, was served up to the different
+	messes. By the time each person got his beef it was almost too small to
+	be seen, being shrunk up by long boiling; and the bone being taken
+	out, it was no larger than a small-sized tea-cup. The pound of bread
+	was not much larger: it was made of barley, slack-baked, and very
+	dark, though sweet. Indeed it was good enough, what there was of it.
+	On Fridays the fare was varied by the same amount in fish and potatoes.</p>
+
+	<p>As some require more nutriment than others, the same quantity of
+	fare did not satisfy all the prisoners alike. I frequently saw many of
+	them devour their day&#8217;s allowance at one meal without appeasing their
+	hunger; and before the next day&#8217;s rations were served out, they would
+	be almost frantic from starvation. Some became so exhausted that they
+	were compelled to go to the hospital until they recovered strength.
+	Those who possessed a little money fared somewhat better, as they
+	could indulge in the luxury of bullock&#8217;s liver, fried in water for the
+	want of fat, or a hot pumgudgeon fried in the same material. This exquisite
+	dish is not appreciated according to its merits. It commonly
+	bears the undignified title of &#8216;codfish-balls;&#8217; and is well known at the
+	present day among our eastern brethren, though not held in the same
+	veneration by them as clam-chowder. &#8216;Dartmoor pippins,&#8217; or potatoes,
+	were also held in high estimation with us.</p>
+
+	<p>Dartmoor prison was a world in miniature, with all its jealousies, envyings
+	and strife. How shall I describe the scenes enacted within its
+	walls? how portray the character of its inhabitants? If I but held the
+	pen of <span class="special_name">Dickens</span> or the pencil of <span class="special_name">Mount</span>, I might hope so to bring the objects
+	before the mind&#8217;s eye of the reader, that they would stand forth in
+	full relief, inducing him almost to imagine that he stood in their midst.
+	Though many years have rolled by since those events occurred, they
+	still linger in my memory like the vivid scenes of a high-wrought drama;
+	and often in the &#8216;dead waste and middle of the night&#8217; do I revisit
+	in my dreams scenes which I should be sorry to survey when awake.</p>
+
+	<p>I think it one of the greatest blessings granted by an all-wise and benevolent
+	<span class="special_name">Creator</span>, that He has bestowed upon man an intellectual and
+	physical capacity, which enables him to pass in comparative happiness
+	many a lonely hour. Many were the aërial maps and charts laid down
+	for our future journeyings through life, and plans formed, which were
+	never to be realized. And perhaps all was for the best; for we are all
+	creatures of circumstance. Not one in a thousand follows out his
+	plans through life. Half of our existence is imaginary; and wise-acres
+	may scoff as much as they please at what they term &#8216;castle-building,&#8217;
+	I believe all mankind indulge in it more or less; and it is an
+	innocent, harmless pastime, which injures no one. I consider it the &#8216;unwritten
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page519" title="519">&nbsp;</a>poetry,&#8217; the romance of life, which all feel; but many, like the
+	dumb, strive in vain to give utterance to their thoughts.</p>
+
+	<p>Many of the prisoners busied themselves in making some trifling article,
+	which, while it afforded amusement, aided in obtaining for them a
+	little money, and thereby added to their comfort. Many of the most ingenious
+	specimens of art I ever saw were made there; some of which
+	were models of vessels, of various classes, from the clipper-built brig to
+	the line-of-battle ship; made too of beef bones, obtained from the cook.
+	They were built up precisely like a large vessel; human hair twisted
+	into ropes of suitable sizes being employed for rigging. When completed,
+	they made a beautiful toy. Desks, work-boxes, etc., were also
+	made here; violins, some of which were of excellent tone, were likewise
+	constructed. But it would be useless to enumerate the endless variety
+	of queer things made at this multifarious manufactory. Some organized
+	a music-society, with various instruments, and used occasionally to
+	give concerts; others got up a theatre, screening it off with bed covering.
+	I recollect some pretty good performances among them. In short,
+	all were employed in some way, to divert their minds from the contemplation
+	of their miserable condition. Some would read while others listened;
+	some practice fencing; some sing, some dance. Others would
+	relate their adventures, many of which savored rather too strongly of the
+	marvellous to be readily believed, while others partook in an equal degree
+	of the ludicrous. One of these latter was related by &#8216;Old John
+	Young&#8217;&#8212;a tale of his early courtship. In his youthful days he lived
+	somewhere in Pennsylvania, where also resided an old farmer, with his
+	wife and two daughters, one of whom, contrary to the old gentleman&#8217;s
+	wishes, he used to visit. One night while there, unknown to the old
+	people, they having retired, a huge pot of mush was left boiling over the
+	fire, getting ready for the next day. Late in the evening the old gentleman
+	called out for the girls to go to bed; and as they did not retire
+	in time to suit him, he began to stir round, to see why his orders were
+	not obeyed. Young, hearing him coming, took off his shoes to prevent
+	a noise, and glided silently up a ladder into the loft above. The old
+	farmer, having sent the girls to bed, lifted off the boiling pot, which by
+	accident he placed at the foot of the ladder; then putting out the light,
+	and covering the fire, he retired again to bed. When all was still and
+	quiet, Young, with shoes in hand, stole down the ladder, and landed in
+	the pot! Although badly burned, he escaped in some degree by having
+	his stockings on. He left his tracks on the floor, but got out of the house
+	unobserved. He had &#8216;put his foot in it&#8217; in good earnest; and mounting
+	his horse, he bade a final adieu to the old farmer and his family.</p>
+
+	<p>Winter was now pretty well advanced, and many suffered for the
+	want of clothing. After considerable delay, however, a small portion
+	was sparingly dealt out, but was accepted by those only who stood in
+	the utmost need. The cause was, that the agent or contractor, having
+	a quantity of garments on hand, over what had been a sufficient supply
+	for some English convicts, who had been confined here at some former
+	period, they were now offered to us, but were rejected by all who could do
+	without them. Those who did receive them, cut a curious figure! I
+	can almost imagine one standing before me now, dressed in a jacket and
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page520" title="520">&nbsp;</a>trowsers of bright yellow cloth; and as they were served out indiscriminately,
+	the consequence was, that large stalwart men were crammed
+	into trowsers which looked more like breeches, and jackets with sleeves
+	terminating at the elbows; and small men with jackets, the sleeves of
+	which dangled far below the hands, and an extra length of pantaloons
+	turned up to the knees; the whole figure surmounted by a knit-woollen
+	cap, resembling an inverted wash-basin; coarse brogans completed the
+	costume. Just pause a moment, reader, and contemplate the figure!</p>
+
+	<p>What with starving and freezing, many became ill, and had to be
+	removed to the hospital. This was what all dreaded; and the consequence
+	was, they were so far gone before they went, that they survived
+	but a short time after getting there, although it was understood that the
+	physician was a skilful and humane man, and did all in his power to
+	alleviate their distress. I was taken very ill with the dysentery. I
+	know of no disease which brings a man down more rapidly. Two or
+	three days weakened me so much that I could scarcely move; and with
+	it came a despondency of mind that was almost insupportable. I had
+	been for years a wayfarer in strange lands, but never, during the whole
+	time, did I so forcibly feel the want of a home, and the solace and care
+	of friends, as now. How did I long to be once more under my father&#8217;s
+	roof, with an affectionate mother and kind sister! I had a sad forboding
+	that I should soon be numbered among the multitude whose spirits
+	had ascended from their prison-house, and whose bodies were deposited
+	outside the walls, in the ground assigned for that purpose.</p>
+
+	<p>The small-pox had also appeared in our midst, spreading havoc on
+	all sides; and despair seemed to rule triumphant. Of those who left for
+	the hospital, but few returned to their comrades. Among those taken
+	ill, was a young man who had been brought up on a farm. Like
+	many others, he had left home to &#8216;go a-privateering,&#8217; and was taken
+	prisoner. He never saw home again. He messed just opposite to me,
+	and was I think one of the most exquisite amateur performers on the
+	violin that I ever heard. For hours have I listened with rapture to his
+	delightful music. He was absent a day, and his instrument was silent.
+	The next day I enquired for him; he had been taken suddenly ill, was
+	removed to the hospital, and the second evening brought me tidings of
+	his death. There was another one, who had been for weeks sullen and
+	gloomy. Despair seemed to have thrown its pall over him. He conversed
+	with none, but shunning his companions, spent the day muttering
+	to himself. Early one morning he was discovered in a secluded part
+	of the prison, cold and stiff. He had hung himself.</p>
+
+	<p>And was there no one to look after the spiritual or temporal welfare
+	of this mass of isolated beings? Was there none to soothe the troubled
+	mind, to cheer the drooping spirit, nor to whisper hope in the ear of the
+	desponding? Was there none of God&#8217;s &#8216;messengers of glad tidings&#8217; to
+	offer consolation to the dying, and a prayer for mercy on the departing
+	spirit of his suffering fellow-being? No; not one minister of the gospel,
+	of any denomination, did I see while I was there; nor did I hear of
+	any having been there, at any time; nor was there any person to see
+	that the prisoners had suitable beds and clothing, or that their food was
+	wholesome, during the many months that I was there. I was told that
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page521" title="521">&nbsp;</a><span class="special_name">Reuben G. Beasly</span>, who was appointed by our government, and who received
+	its pay to see to American interests, had been there some months
+	before, but had done nothing for them; and to the letters of remonstrance
+	written to him, stating their wants, their insufficiency of food and clothing,
+	etc., he turned a deaf ear. He did not deign a reply to them; and
+	what more could be expected of a man who could be so base as to do
+	what I will here state?</p>
+
+	<p>About three years ago I met an old ship-mate. We went to India in
+	the same ship. He held a midshipman&#8217;s warrant in the United States&#8217;
+	navy, and went out on this voyage for practice in seamanship. He was
+	made prisoner at the same time I was. In the shiftings and changes
+	which took place, we were separated; and when I saw him, several
+	years after, he stated that after parting with me he remained in London,
+	endeavoring in vain to get employment on board some ship; that becoming
+	destitute, he went to Mr. Beasly, (<em>Beastly</em> it should be,) to get
+	advice and assistance, stating who and what he was; and that, in consequence
+	of the unsettled mode of life in which he had been living, he
+	had unfortunately lost his warrant; and urged him, as an act of humanity,
+	to point out some method whereby he might help himself. He turned
+	away from him with indifference, saying he could do nothing for him.
+	After a lapse of several days, finding no hope of extricating himself
+	from his embarrassed situation, as a last resource he went once more to
+	Mr. Beasly, and asked assistance. The reply was: &#8216;Be off! and if you
+	trouble me again I will put you on board of an English man-of-war!&#8217;
+	This gentleman<a href="#footnote_1" id="fnm1" title="Stephen B. Wilson, Esq." class="fnmarker">1</a> is now Lieutenant Commandant in our navy. He
+	told me he had seen Mr. Beasly not long before, in his official capacity
+	as consul at Havre, but did not make himself known to him. Is it not
+	strange, that one who was so regardless of the duties of his office and the
+	feelings of humanity should hold so lucrative and responsible a situation
+	as the one which he enjoys to this day? There have been serious
+	complaints made against him, within a year or two, by several respectable
+	captains of vessels.</p>
+
+	<p>The number of prisoners on my arrival at the dépôt I understood to
+	amount to about three thousand; notwithstanding the deaths had gradually
+	increased, the number was kept good by detachments sent in from
+	time to time, many of them from English ships of war, who had been
+	impressed into the service; and although they had frequently asked for
+	a discharge, they could not get it until the European war had ended,
+	and there was but little farther use for them. But they obtained their
+	dismissal, and with it the pay and prize-money due to them at the
+	time.</p>
+
+	<p>Such occasions afforded a kind of jubilee, as the money they brought
+	was soon put in circulation through the prisons, from whence it speedily
+	evaporated, being spent in provisions, vegetables, and fruits, brought
+	there by the country-people for sale, and for which an enormous price
+	was paid. Many of the men thus delivered up, had spent several years
+	of the prime of life in fighting the battles of a foreign nation, and were
+	then dismissed with the most brutal treatment. As an instance: a man
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page522" title="522">&nbsp;</a>by the name of <span class="special_name">Slater</span>, a tall, robust man, just such an one as they
+	like to get hold of, in the service where he had been several years, had
+	made frequent but unavailing applications for a discharge. At length
+	when the war broke out, he made more urgent solicitations for a release.
+	The answer was, &#8216;Yes, you shall have it; but we will first give you
+	something to remember us by.&#8217; And tying him up, they gave him three
+	dozen lashes, and sent him to Dartmoor. Such was the reward of his
+	services!</p>
+
+</div>
+<div class="article">
+	<h2 class="title">THE SONG OF DEATH.</h2>
+
+
+	<div class="poem">
+		<h3 class="subtitle">I.</h3>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p><span class="first_word">Silent</span> and swift as the flight of Time,</p>
+			<p>I&#8217;ve come from a far and shadowy clime;</p>
+			<p>With brow serene and a cloudless eye,</p>
+			<p>Like the star that shines in the midnight sky;</p>
+			<p>I check the sigh, and I dry the tear;</p>
+			<p>Mortals! why turn from my path in fear?</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">II.</h3>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>The fair flower smiled on my tireless way,</p>
+			<p>I paused to kiss it in summer&#8217;s day,</p>
+			<p>That when the storm in its strength swept by</p>
+			<p>It might not be torn from its covert nigh;</p>
+			<p>I bear its hues on my shining wing,</p>
+			<p>Its fragrance and light around me cling.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">III.</h3>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>I passed the brow that had learned to wear</p>
+			<p>The crown of sorrow&#8212;the silver hair;</p>
+			<p>Weary and faint with the woes of life,</p>
+			<p>The tempest-breath and fever-strife,</p>
+			<p>The old man welcomed the gentle friend</p>
+			<p>Who bade the storm and the conflict end.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">IV.</h3>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>I looked where the fountains of gladness start,</p>
+			<p>On the love of the pure and trusting heart;</p>
+			<p>On the cheek like summer roses fair,</p>
+			<p>And the changeful light of the waving hair;</p>
+			<p>Earth had no cloud for her joyous eye,</p>
+			<p>But I saw the shade in the future&#8217;s sky.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">V.</h3>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>I saw the depths of her spirit wrung,</p>
+			<p>The music fled, and the harp unstrung;</p>
+			<p>The love intense she had treasured there,</p>
+			<p>Like fragrance shed on the desert air:</p>
+			<p>I bore her to deathless love away;</p>
+			<p>Oh! why do ye mourn for the young to-day?</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">VI.</h3>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>I paused by the couch where the poet lay,</p>
+			<p>Mid fancies bright on their sparing way;</p>
+			<p>The tide of song in his heaving breast</p>
+			<p>Flowed strong and free in its deep unrest;</p>
+			<p>His soul was thirsting for things divine&#8212;</p>
+			<p>I led him far to the sacred shrine.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle"><a class="pagenum" id="page523" title="523">&nbsp;</a>VII.</h3>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>The sage looked forth on the starry sky,</p>
+			<p>With aspiring thoughts and visions high,</p>
+			<p>He sought a gift and a lore sublime</p>
+			<p>To raise the veil from the shores of Time,</p>
+			<p>To pierce the clouds o&#8217;er the soul that lie;</p>
+			<p>I bade him soar with a cherub&#8217;s eye.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">VIII.</h3>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>And now, neath my folded wing I bear</p>
+			<p>A spotless soul like the lily fair;</p>
+			<p>The babe on its mother&#8217;s bosom slept;</p>
+			<p>Ere I bore it far, I paused and wept;</p>
+			<p>&#8217;Twas an angel strayed from its fairer home:</p>
+			<p>Peace to the mourner!&#8212;I come! I come!</p>
+		</div>
+	</div>
+
+	<p class="sign"><span class="location">Shelter-Island.</span> <span class="author">Mary Gardiner.</span></p>
+
+</div>
+<div class="article">
+	<h2 class="title">MARY MAY: THE NEWFOUNDLAND INDIAN.</h2>
+
+	<p class="byline">BY A NEW CONTRIBUTOR.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="first_word">The</span> tribe of aborigines to which <span class="special_name">Mary May</span>, the heroine of our little
+	sketch, belonged, has been named by the Newfoundlanders, &#8216;Red Indians;&#8217;
+	for what reason, I could never learn. This tribe, or probably
+	the miserable remnant of it, since the English have settled the island
+	has been regarded as altogether remarkable and undefinable. They
+	have never, in a single instance, been induced to visit the white settler
+	since British subjects have resided there. Little is known of their numbers,
+	habits, or general spirit, although the most sedulous exertions have
+	been made to bring about an amicable understanding and a reciprocal
+	intercourse. They have chosen to remain isolated and insolated; keeping
+	their history, their wisdom, and their deeds to themselves. They will
+	hold no communion with others of their own race. There are the Esquimaux,
+	very near their northern boundary; a people disposed to extend
+	the rites of hospitality in peace, and a trading tribe; but these
+	have no more knowledge of the &#8216;Red Indian&#8217; than the white man; and
+	they remain wrapt up in a historical mantle as dark as the shades of
+	their own impenetrable complexion.</p>
+
+	<p>Much, of a marvellous character, has been said about the Red Indians.
+	The fishermen of the island, as a mass, believe that these poor creatures
+	are semi-human. They will tell you of their having been seen one moment
+	cooking their venison, and composedly regaling themselves, and
+	the next, upon learning the contiguity of the white man, they would
+	vanish from sight, and not a trace could be found of their departure;
+	that they descend far under ground in winter, and lead a kind of fairy
+	life; that they have power to change themselves into birds and fishes,
+	and to sustain life for hours together under water. But all this is of
+	course unnatural and absurd. The Indians of Newfoundland are flesh
+	and blood, and partake, in common with other races of rational beings,
+	of properties holding them within &#8216;delegated limits of power.&#8217; And in
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page524" title="524">&nbsp;</a>my opinion, they are as much entitled to a character of consistency as
+	the generality of tribes on our continent. The secret of their shyness,
+	and their unsocial and vindictive disposition, may better be accounted
+	for, from the probable fact that they were inhumanly treated by the early
+	discoverers of the island, the Portuguese and Spaniards. These monsters
+	without doubt butchered and made havock of these poor natives
+	as they did the South American Indians, and indeed wherever their lawless
+	adventures led them, in this new world.</p>
+
+	<p>Various governors have been appointed to the Newfoundland station
+	since Great-Britain has possessed the island, and all have used more
+	than ordinary means to reach the Red Indians, and reconcile them to
+	the pale-faces, who have taken possession of the bays and harbors of
+	their bold and rugged coast. The last, of any magnitude, that was
+	made, was during the summer of 1830, and immediately preceding the
+	administration of Sir Thomas Cochran. It consisted of a regular exploring
+	expedition, numbering about fifty persons, a part of whom were
+	regular soldiers, and a part volunteer citizens, which left St. John&#8217;s, the
+	capital of the island, with instructions to explore the interior, and traverse
+	every portion of it in quest of the Indians, and to bring some back
+	with them; but to use no cruelty, unless absolutely necessary. After
+	traversing the internal wilds for some ten days, the expedition discovered
+	smoke in the distance, and in a few hours came upon a party of Indians
+	in their wigwams. The red men were greatly surprised, and appeared
+	much alarmed. But upon being presented with some showy ornaments,
+	accompanied by smiles, and other friendly indications, their fears somewhat
+	subsided, and two of them became apparently willing to accompany
+	the expedition into St. John&#8217;s, on learning by signs that two of the white
+	men would remain as guarantees of their good treatment and return.
+	The white men left were supplied with a large quantity of ornaments
+	and trinkets to distribute among other Indians whom they might find
+	during the absence of their party, a period which was not to be prolonged
+	beyond a month. The good-bye was given, and the expedition
+	started on their return home. It had not travelled many hours before
+	an uncontrollable disposition seized them to go back again to the spot of
+	separation to see if all was well, for some declared that they had a presentiment
+	that there had already been foul play. Back they went, and
+	when they reached the spot where good wishes had just been interchanged,
+	the first spectacle which met their eyes was the mutilated dead
+	bodies of their faithful hostages! Without any consultation, or a moment&#8217;s
+	delay, the commander of the expedition ordered the two Indians
+	in their keeping to be shot, and their bodies left exposed, as they had
+	found those of their comrades. This order was promptly executed.</p>
+
+	<p>Soon after Sir Thomas Cochran was appointed governor of Newfoundland,
+	he offered a reward of one hundred pounds for the harmless
+	capture of a Red Indian, the person to be brought him at the capital.
+	This reward was advertised in the summer of 1832; and the next
+	spring a fisherman, at a distant, unfrequented part of the island, saw on
+	a pleasant afternoon a young female Indian, laving at the edge of the
+	water. She was alone, and unconscious of danger, and went through
+	the offices of the bath with singular grace and activity. After watching
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page525" title="525">&nbsp;</a>her for some time, he took his measures for her capture. He first cut
+	off her retreat, then approached her carefully, and at the instant of surprise,
+	obtained possession of her person. She made no resistance, but
+	acted as one paralyzed by fear or wonder. He brought her to Sir
+	Thomas, and received his reward. It being the month of May when
+	she was captured, she was given the name of <span class="special_name">Mary May</span>. She was
+	apparently about eighteen years of age; an angelic creature, tall, with
+	perfect symetry of proportion, agreeable features, good complexion, and
+	as agile and graceful as a fawn. The governor and the officers of the
+	garrison, and the élite of St. Johns, vied with each other in plans and
+	devices for her gratification. She was taken to parties, to the theatre,
+	to military reviews; in short, she was flattered, caressed, and made the
+	reigning belle. But the poor Indian showed an almost blank indifference
+	to the various schemes devised for her pleasure. She was not <em>at home</em>.
+	Every face, every habit, every object was new, and appeared strange
+	to her. She undoubtedly pined to go back again into the dark wilds
+	among her own people. Perhaps her heart, that wonderful controller
+	of human destiny, was in the keeping of some extolled brave: at all
+	events, it was not in the scenes that were passing before her; and the
+	efforts so generously put forth for her amusement and happiness were
+	like the crystal droppings upon the hard insensible stone, falling in full
+	profusion, but leaving no impress.</p>
+
+	<p>Mary was detained about a year, and was then given in charge of the
+	fisherman who captured her, with express directions that she should be
+	taken to the spot where he found her, and there be left to her own guidance.
+	She was richly clad and profusely decorated before she was
+	given her liberty, and was furnished with a large quantity of finery for
+	distribution among the members of her tribe. It was hoped that this
+	treatment, when communicated by one of their own blood, would cause
+	a change of feeling among the Red Indians, and that gradually a reciprocity
+	of confidence and intercourse would be established. But this experiment
+	and this hope proved futile and delusive. In 1836 I left the
+	island of Newfoundland, and up to that time not a glimpse of the red
+	race had flitted across the vision of civilization since the dark captive
+	was permitted again to bound over hill and dale without let or hindrance.
+	Many idle reports and tales were circulated about Mary May, after meeting
+	with her tribe; but little reliance is placed upon them, as they are for
+	the most part contradictory, and strongly savor of the marvellous. But
+	I will give the reader one, which is as well authenticated as any, and
+	quite as probable.</p>
+
+	<p>On the second day after Mary was liberated, she found a portion of
+	her people; and when they first saw her, they were much alarmed,
+	judging from her fanciful, brilliant habiliments that she was some celestial
+	visiter. But hearing their own language addressed to them, the
+	parentage of the girl, and the cause of her absence, they became gradually
+	calm, and curiosity took the place of fear, and this gave place to
+	admiration, until the lost one was fairly constituted by acclamation a
+	goddess, and to her surprise and grief, worshiped as such! The daughter&#8217;s
+	return had been communicated to the father, with such exaggerations
+	and extravagances as pertain to the grossly superstitious; and he,
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page526" title="526">&nbsp;</a>instead of falling upon his child&#8217;s neck, and receiving her as the lost
+	found, came bowing and doing reverence and worship. Mary was bewildered,
+	and almost wished herself back again with the pale-faces.</p>
+
+	<p>But there was one link in the chain of her destiny yet to be proved;
+	if <em>that</em> should be found true, she had not returned in vain. About a
+	year previous to her capture, on a sunny afternoon, she had strayed a
+	mile or two from her father&#8217;s camp, invited partly by the romance of
+	her own nature, and partly by the novelty of new scenery, opened up by
+	a change of camping-ground. While hesitating concerning her return,
+	and gracefully leaning against a young sapling, she heard a rustling of
+	leaves near her; and quickly directing her eyes to the spot whence the
+	alarm came, she saw with terror a full-grown panther steadily and cautiously
+	approaching her. She had no weapon of defence, and Indian
+	though she was, had never participated in blood and strife. She knew
+	that flight would be vain, for what human being could outrun a hungry
+	panther? She raised one alarm-whoop, and awaited her fate. At the
+	loud, piercing cry, the fierce animal seemed alarmed in his turn, and
+	paused in his progress. But after some five minutes, he recovered his
+	courage, and was making ready for the fatal spring, when an arrow
+	pierced his heart; and the next moment a young, athletic brave sprang
+	from the thicket, and clasped the dark damsel to his breast. She remained
+	an instant, passive and bewildered; the next, she sprang from
+	the embrace of the stranger, and with Indian dignity thanked him for
+	his kind and timely aid. She then turned her face toward her father&#8217;s
+	camp, and with the fleetness of an antelope passed the intervening space,
+	and soon found herself safe in her changing habitation.</p>
+
+	<p>But notwithstanding the assumed dignity and apparent coldness with
+	which she addressed the young stranger, Mary in that moment of rescue
+	was awakened to a new and impassioned existence. The image
+	of the stranger was before her by day and in her dreams by night. Six
+	or eight months passed, when the chiefs of the tribe celebrated a great
+	festival, to which all the members were invited. The ceremonies were
+	to last a week; many did not arrive until after the first day, and the
+	father of Mary, and his camp, were of this number. But toward the
+	evening of the first day of the festivities, a tall, graceful young brave
+	stalked into the assembly, and with cool solicitude scanned the faces of
+	the female visiters; and not appearing satisfied, he folded his arms upon
+	his breast, and leaning against a rude post, listlessly observed the
+	sports. But a close observer would have seen his eye lit up with unwonted
+	interest when any new arrival was announced. No one knew
+	him; his dress was peculiar; still he spoke their language, and the old
+	chiefs passed him by for a future examination.</p>
+
+	<p>On the second day of the gathering, toward noon, Mary May arrived,
+	and with her father, mother and sisters, entered that enclosure of merry
+	hearts. She hoped to see at the festival the youth who had so strongly
+	impressed her; and the moment she entered the rude structure, her
+	eyes eagerly ranged round the assembly until they rested upon the person
+	of her rescuer, who as eagerly returned her significant glance.
+	During the continuance of the feast and frolic, the lovers had many interviews;
+	and before it closed, their faith and vows were exchanged.
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page527" title="527">&nbsp;</a>They were to have been married the month after her capture; and
+	now, since her return and deification, she had not learned a word about
+	her &#8216;brave,&#8217; and had come to the determination if he proved false to
+	destroy herself. Day after day passed without the presence of the only
+	one who could drive the dark cloud from her mind, and it was becoming
+	every day more dense and oppressive, until she gave way to utter despondency,
+	and bitterly bewailed her fate. One afternoon, about two
+	months after her return, while some of her kindred were bowing before
+	her in heathenish worship, hasty steps were heard approaching; the
+	next moment the young brave appeared and clasped his lost treasure to
+	his heart; and taking advantage of the bewilderment of the worshippers,
+	occasioned by his sudden appearance, the happy pair escaped to the sea-coast,
+	and passing over a portion of the bay, found a secure retreat
+	among the Mickmacs, to which tribe the young brave belonged.</p>
+
+	<p>And there may they rest. I sometimes, though quite infrequently, meet
+	with some one from Newfoundland; and among the first questions I
+	ask is one touching the &#8216;Red Indians;&#8217; and although I have not heard
+	any thing which went to confirm the hope that they may yet be brought
+	to place confidence in the white man, yet I still trust that I shall; and
+	when this result is brought about, or any other thing of interest shall
+	be learned of these strange mortals, I shall take much pleasure in communicating
+	the information, for the benefit of the readers of the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>.</p>
+
+</div>
+<div class="article">
+	<h2 class="title">BIRTH-DAY MEDITATIONS.</h2>
+
+	<div class="poem">
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p class="i2">I stand upon the wave that marks the round</p>
+			<p class="i2">Of Life&#8217;s dark-heaving and revolving years;</p>
+			<p class="i2">Still sweeping onward from Youth&#8217;s sunny ground,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Still changed and chequered with my joys and fears,</p>
+			<p class="i2">And colored from the past, where Thought careers,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Shadowing the ashes in pale Memory&#8217;s urn;</p>
+			<p class="i2">Where perished buds were laid, with frequent tears,</p>
+			<p class="i2">That on the cheek of Disappointment burn,</p>
+			<p>As blessed hours roll on, that never may return.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p class="i2">What have they seen, those changed and vanish&#8217;d years?</p>
+			<p class="i2">Uplifted, soaring thoughts, all quelled by fate;</p>
+			<p class="i2">Affection, mournful in its gushing tears;</p>
+			<p class="i2">And midst the crowd that at the funeral wait,</p>
+			<p class="i2">A widowed mother&#8217;s heart made desolate</p>
+			<p class="i2">O&#8217;er a war-honor&#8217;d Sire&#8217;s low place of rest;</p>
+			<p class="i2">These are the tales that Memory may relate:</p>
+			<p class="i2">They have a moral for the aspiring breast,</p>
+			<p>A lesson of Decay on earthliness impress&#8217;d.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p class="i2">Yet Hope still chaunts unto the listening ear</p>
+			<p class="i2">The witching music of her treacherous song;</p>
+			<p class="i2">Still paints the Future eloquent and clear,</p>
+			<p class="i2">And sees the tide of Life roll calm along,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Where glittering phantoms rise, a luring throng;</p>
+			<p class="i2">And voiceful Fame holds out the laurel bough:</p>
+			<p class="i2">Where rapturous applause is loud and long,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Frail guerdon for the heart!&#8212;which lights the brow</p>
+			<p>With the ephemeral smile of Mind&#8217;s triumphant glow.</p>
+		</div>
+	</div>
+
+	<p class="sign"><span class="author">C.</span></p>
+</div>
+<div class="article">
+	<h2 class="title"><a class="pagenum" id="page528" title="528">&nbsp;</a>THE HOUSEHOLDER.</h2>
+
+	<p class="byline">BY JOHN WATERS.</p>
+
+
+	<div class="epigram">
+		<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">For</span> the kingdom of Heaven is like unto a man that is an householder, which went out early in the
+			morning to hire labourers into his vineyard. And when he had agreed with the labourers for a
+			penny a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And he went out about the third hour, and saw others
+			standing in the market-place, and said unto them; Go ye also into the vineyard, and whatsoever is
+			right I will give you; and they went their way. Again he went out about the sixth and ninth hour,
+			and did likewise. And about the eleventh hour he went out and found others standing idle, and
+			saith unto them, Why stand ye here all the day idle? They say unto him, Because no man hath
+			hired us. He saith unto them. Go ye also into the vineyard; and whatsoever is right that shall ye
+			receive.&#8217;&#8212;<span class="special_name">St. Matthew</span>: XX, 1-7.</p>
+	</div>
+
+	<div class="poem">
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p><span class="first_word">O thou</span> blest Householder! the starry dawn,</p>
+			<p>The light crepuscular, the roseate morn,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Long since had melted into day!</p>
+			<p>Long since the glow of Youth&#8217;s <span class="small_all_caps">THIRD</span> hour,</p>
+			<p>And the bird&#8217;s song, and Fancy&#8217;s magic power,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Long since have, traceless, pass&#8217;d away!</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>Ent&#8217;reth the sun into its zenith height!</p>
+			<p>Ent&#8217;reth the mortal into manhood&#8217;s might!</p>
+			<p class="i2">Op&#8217;neth again the vineyard Gate</p>
+			<p>And Labourers are call&#8217;d! but Honour&#8217;s dream</p>
+			<p>Entranc&#8217;d my soul, and made Religion seem</p>
+			<p class="i2">As nought, Glory was man&#8217;s Estate!</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>The <span class="small_all_caps">NINTH</span> hour found me in the market place;</p>
+			<p>Fierce passion ruled my heart, care mark&#8217;d my face;</p>
+			<p class="i2">In vain, in vain, Thy blessed call!</p>
+			<p>To glitter, to achieve, to lose or gain,</p>
+			<p>Form&#8217;d every hope, or thought, delight, or pain:</p>
+			<p class="i2">The world, the world, was still my All!</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>The <span class="small_all_caps">TENTH</span> hour sounded in my startled ear!</p>
+			<p>Thy gracious Spirit touched my heart with fear!</p>
+			<p class="i2">The harvest ended with the day;</p>
+			<p>That thought imbued my mind&#8212;&#8216;not saved? too late?&#8217;</p>
+			<p>I left the throng; I sought the Vineyard Gate;</p>
+			<p class="i2">&#8217;Twas shut&#8212; Death-struck, I turn&#8217;d away!</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>Low sank the Sun adown the Western Sky!</p>
+			<p>Each cherish&#8217;d hope had prov&#8217;d its vanity!</p>
+			<p class="i2">Now neither Earth, nor Heaven was mine.</p>
+			<p>Rejected, sad, abandon&#8217;d, and forlorn;</p>
+			<p>Of God it seem&#8217;d not lov&#8217;d; of Hell, the scorn!</p>
+			<p class="i2">No hope, or human or Divine,</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>Brighten&#8217;d my dark, cold, doubting, wretched mind;</p>
+			<p>The world, a wilderness; Heaven&#8217;s self, unkind!</p>
+			<p class="i2">&#8216;Blackness of darkness&#8217; seem&#8217;d my way:</p>
+			<p>Slow struck the <span class="small_all_caps">ELEVENTH</span>! Thy light around me broke!</p>
+			<p>And deep, unto my soul, these words were spoke:</p>
+			<p class="i2">&#8216;Why stand ye idle all the day?&#8217;</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>&#8216;Enter and work through the waning hour!&#8217;&#8212;</p>
+			<p>Lord of the Vineyard! grant Thy servant power</p>
+			<p class="i2">To labour, love Thee, and obey.</p>
+			<p>Let every thought, plan, word, deed, wish, be Thine!</p>
+			<p>Thine be all honour, glory, praise divine,</p>
+			<p class="i2">And let thy pardon close my day!</p>
+		</div>
+	</div>
+</div>
+<div class="article">
+	<h2 class="title"><a class="pagenum" id="page529" title="529">&nbsp;</a>THE QUOD CORRESPONDENCE.</h2>
+
+	<h3 class="subtitle fancy">Harry Harson.</h3>
+
+	<h4 class="chapter_title">CHAPTER XXVIII.</h4>
+
+	<p><span class="first_word">On</span> the day but one after Rust&#8217;s death, Mr. Kornicker was very busy
+	in his office. His coat was off; his hat was on a chair, and in it was
+	his snuff-box, a black silk neckcloth, and a white handkerchief, not a
+	little discolored by the presence of snuff and the absence of water. In
+	one corner of the room lay a confused heap, consisting of bed, bedding,
+	and various odds and ends of wearing apparel; and from these Mr.
+	Kornicker, after due reflection and calculation as to the order in which
+	to make his choice, selected article after article. First, he spread upon
+	the floor his counterpane, then his blanket, then a sheet not a little akin
+	in appearance to his handkerchief, and then his bed: upon these he
+	piled his apparel, in a confused heap, and proceeded to roll the whole
+	into a large ball, which he secured with a piece of rope. &#8216;Now then,
+	the moving&#8217;s begun,&#8217; said he, opening the door and rolling the bundle
+	into the entry. &#8216;The premises are ready for the next tenant.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Having brushed his knees with the palm of his hands, and then dusted
+	his hands by knocking them together, he put on his neckcloth, coat, and
+	hat; pocketed his snuff-box and handkerchief, walked into the entry,
+	locked the door, put the key over it, as he had always been in the habit
+	of doing; seated himself upon his bundle, with his back leaning against
+	the wall; and immediately lapsed into a fit of deep abstraction, which
+	he occasionally relieved by kicking his heels against the floor, shaking
+	his head, in a sudden and emphatic manner, or inhaling his breath rapidly
+	and violently, producing a sound blending the harmonious qualities of
+	a snort and a whistle.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;So,&#8217; said he, after indulging in one of the last mentioned performances
+	with so much energy as to arouse him from his abstraction, at the same
+	time nodding his head at Rust&#8217;s office, &#8216;<em>his</em> cake being dough, our bargain&#8217;s
+	up; and here am I, Edward Kornicker, Esquire, attorney and
+	counsellor at law, a man of profound experience, severe knowledge of
+	the world, of great capacity in various ways, though of small means&#8212;I
+	think I may say of d&#8212;&#8212;d small means&#8212;once more in the market;
+	for sale to the highest bidder. Such a valuable commodity is not met
+	with every day. If any gentleman,&#8217; continued he, raising his hand and
+	looking round at an imaginary audience, &#8216;is extremely desirous of securing
+	the eminent talents of one of the most prominent young men of
+	the day&#8212;not exactly new,&#8217; added he, running his eye over his rusty
+	coat, &#8216;but wonderfully serviceable; no cracks, nor flaws, no pieces
+	broken off&#8212;here is an opportunity which will not occur again. This
+	is only a scratch on the surface,&#8217; said he, as he thrust his finger into a
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page530" title="530">&nbsp;</a>small hole in his coat-sleeve; &#8216;the article itself is warranted to be perfectly
+	sound, and of the best quality. How much is bid?&#8212;how much
+	for the promising young man aforesaid? How much? One thousand
+	dollars? Five hundred? Two fifty?&#8212;one?&#8212;fifty? It wont do,&#8217;
+	said he, in a melancholy tone; &#8216;strike him down to me. The gentleman&#8217;s
+	bought himself in; there being no demand for the article in this
+	market, he thinks of disposing of himself to some respectable widow
+	lady with a small family and a large purse. He may alter his mind,
+	but that&#8217;s his present intention.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Here Mr. Kornicker concluded his rather extraordinary soliloquy by
+	plunging his hands in his pockets, and dropping into a subdued whistle;
+	in the course of which his thoughts seemed to have taken altogether a
+	different channel; for it was not long before he said, as if in continuance
+	of some unuttered train of thought:</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Well, old fellow, I promised you to look after your girl, although
+	you didn&#8217;t seem much struck with the offer. But I&#8217;ll stick to my promise;
+	although, to tell the truth, I don&#8217;t exactly know how to commence.
+	But nothing will be done by sitting on this bundle. So I&#8217;ll to my work
+	at once.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>He rose up hastily, and was descending the stairs when he abruptly
+	turned back, went up to his luggage, and after eyeing it for a minute,
+	said:</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;It&#8217;s a hazardous business to leave you here. You can&#8217;t be distrained
+	on, nor levied on, because you&#8217;re exempt by law. So you are
+	safe from landlords and creditors; the law makes you exempt from being
+	stolen too; but thieves consider themselves like members of parliament,
+	out of the reach of law. There&#8217;s the rub. You might be stolen; and
+	I very much regret to say, that the gentleman who should lay violent
+	hands on you would walk off with all my goods, chattels, lands, tenements,
+	and hereditaments; but I&#8217;ve no where to take you, and as I
+	expect to sleep in this entry, you must take your chance. So, good
+	bye, old acquaintance, in case you and I should never meet again.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Having in a very grave manner shaken one corner of the counterpane,
+	as if it were the hand of an old friend, he gave his head a sudden
+	jerk, to settle his hat in the right place, and descended the stairs.</p>
+
+	<p>The task which Kornicker had imposed upon himself was by no means
+	easy; but firm in his purpose of fulfilling his promise, he shut his eyes
+	to all difficulties, and commenced his pursuit.</p>
+
+	<p>The first place to which he went was the prison, for he hoped that
+	the keeper of it might know something about her, or that she might have
+	left her address there, in case her father wished to see her when he was
+	imprisoned. But he was disappointed. They could tell him nothing,
+	except that Rust neither asked for her, nor mentioned her, and had
+	always refused to see her. She had never succeeded in gaining admittance
+	to him, except on the night of his death, when the jailer, a
+	fellow unfit for his office, for he had some human feeling left, unable to
+	resist her tears and entreaties, had let her in unannounced, as mentioned
+	in the last chapter. She had left the cell abruptly, had hurried off, and
+	had never returned. &#8216;God help the poor child!&#8217; exclaimed the man,
+	as he told the story. &#8216;Such hearts as hers were made for heaven, not
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page531" title="531">&nbsp;</a>for this world. I have a daughter of her age; and even if she had
+	robbed a church, I couldn&#8217;t have treated her as that man treated his
+	child.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>The man looked at Kornicker, as if to observe the effect of his last
+	remark; but probably that gentleman viewed the robbing of a church
+	in a less heinous light than the jailer, for he made no comment on it,
+	but after a pause said:</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;So that&#8217;s all you know?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>The man nodded.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Good morning to you, Sir,&#8217; said Kornicker; and he walked straight
+	out of the building, and had crossed several streets before he had made
+	up his mind what to do next. This however was soon settled, and he
+	buttoned his coat tightly, pulled his hat firmly on his head, drew on a
+	pair of shabby gloves, and performed a number of those little acts which
+	in ancient times were known under the head of &#8216;girding up the loins,&#8217;
+	preparatory to setting out to his next point of destination, which was the
+	girl&#8217;s former home, the place where Rust had committed the murder.
+	It was many miles off; and the distance which Rust, under the whip
+	and spur of fierce passions, had traversed without trace of fatigue,
+	drew from his clerk many a sigh, and many an expression of weariness.</p>
+
+	<p>When he got there he found the house deserted. He entered it, for
+	there was no one there to hinder it, but the rooms were empty and dismantled.
+	The house had been hired by Rust, and no sooner was he in
+	the gripe of the law, than creditors innumerable, who like birds of prey
+	were biding their time, kept in check by the unbending character of
+	their debtor, came flitting in from every quarter; seized and sold the
+	furniture, and left the house desolate. A single dark stain upon the
+	library floor, where the murdered man had fallen, was all that was left
+	to tell a tale of the past. The dust had gathered thickly on the walls,
+	as if preparing to commence a slumber of years; and as Kornicker
+	went out, the rats raced through the hall, startled at the tread of a
+	stranger.</p>
+
+	<p>With a heart as heavy as his limbs, as he thought of the past life of
+	the girl who had once tenanted this house, and then fancied what her
+	present fate must be, Kornicker set out on his return. &#8216;If it had been
+	me,&#8217; said he, pausing to take a last look at the lonely house, &#8216;if it had
+	only been Edward Kornicker who was thus cast adrift, to kick his way
+	through the world with empty pockets, and without a soul to say to him
+	God speed, or &#8216;I&#8217;m sorry for you,&#8217; it would have been right and proper,
+	and no one would have any cause to grumble or find fault; but this
+	being a girl, with no money, and consequently with no friends, no experience,
+	as <em>I</em> have, it&#8217;s a very hard case&#8212;a very hard case, indeed.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Having arrived at this conclusion, Kornicker took off his hat, wiped
+	his forehead, snuffed, and set out on his return.</p>
+
+	<p>Day after day for several weeks he prosecuted his inquiries without
+	success; and just when he was in despair, chance led him to success.
+	In the course of his rambles, he encountered a person who had been at
+	Rust&#8217;s trial, and happened to speak about him; for now that the criminal
+	was dead and in his grave, when public opinion could be of no service
+	to him, many who had hunted him down began to view less harshly
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page532" title="532">&nbsp;</a>the crime which had led to his death; and this man was one of the
+	number. He said that, although he deserved punishment for his previous
+	evil deeds, yet the best and purest act of his life had been that by
+	which he had struck down the destroyer of his child.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Poor thing!&#8217; said he, &#8216;she must have led a miserable life since her
+	father&#8217;s death. I have met her several times since then in the street,
+	but that was several weeks ago; and then she was very feeble, scarcely
+	able to walk: perhaps she&#8217;s dead now.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Kornicker waited only long enough to ascertain that she lived in a
+	certain out-of-the-way part of the town, which the man designated, and
+	thither he directed his steps, and resumed his search; and after several
+	days spent in fruitless inquiries, he discovered her.</p>
+
+	<p>The house in which he found her was a small ruinous building, sagged
+	and jutting forward, as if struggling to sustain itself against time and
+	dilapidation. The windows were broken; the doors and shutters unhung,
+	except a solitary one of the latter, which creaked as it flapped to
+	and fro in the wind; and this was the home of Rust&#8217;s child.</p>
+
+	<p>Kornicker ascended the ricketty stairs and paused at the door of a
+	room, which a slipshod woman had pointed out as that of the &#8216;murderer&#8217;s
+	daughter.&#8217; He knocked, but there was no reply; he knocked again,
+	but all was silent. Then he opened the door and looked in.</p>
+
+	<p>It was a small dingy room, unfurnished, with the exception of a bed
+	on the floor, and a single chair, on which stood a candle whose flaring
+	light served only to add to the gloom of the room by revealing its
+	wretchedness. The girl was in bed; her hair lying in tangled masses
+	about the pillow. Her cheeks were sunken and colorless, and her eyes
+	deep-set and glowing, as if all that was left of life was concentrated in
+	them.</p>
+
+	<p>Kornicker hesitated for a moment, and then pushed the door open and
+	walked in. The girl looked listlessly up, but did not notice him; for
+	she turned her head away with a weary, restless motion, and did not
+	speak. Kornicker went to the bed, got on his knees beside it, and took
+	her hand in his. As he did so he observed that it was very thin and
+	shrunken, and that the large veins stood out like cords. It was hot as
+	fire. &#8216;You&#8217;re very ill,&#8217; said he, in a low tone. &#8216;I&#8217;m afraid you&#8217;re
+	very ill.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;I&#8217;m dying of thirst,&#8217; said the girl, pointing to an empty pitcher,
+	which stood on the floor. &#8216;Give me water; the want of it is driving
+	me mad. No one has been near me to-day. I tried to get it myself,
+	but could not stand.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Kornicker waited to hear no more, but seizing the pitcher, darted out
+	to a pump, and in a very few minutes came back again with it filled
+	to the brim. The girl&#8217;s eye grew even more lustrous than before, as
+	she saw it, and she attempted to rise, but was unable.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;You must excuse ceremony,&#8217; said Kornicker, as he placed his arm
+	under her back and supported her while he held the pitcher to her lips.
+	&#8216;Nursing isn&#8217;t in my line.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>The girl swallowed the water greedily, and then sank back on the
+	pillow exhausted.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Have you a doctor?&#8217; inquired Kornicker, placing the pitcher on the
+	floor.</p>
+
+	<p><a class="pagenum" id="page533" title="533">&nbsp;</a>&#8216;No,&#8217; answered she feebly; &#8216;I have no money: the last went yesterday.
+	I&#8217;m deserted by all now.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Not quite,&#8217; exclaimed Kornicker, slapping his hand earnestly on his
+	knee, while he experienced a choking sensation about the throat; &#8216;not
+	while I&#8217;m left. I&#8217;m sorry I a&#8217;nt a woman, for your sake; but as I
+	don&#8217;t happen to be, I hope you&#8217;ll make no objections on that score;
+	I&#8217;ll look after you as if you were my own sister.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>It was the first word of kindness that the girl had heard for a long
+	time, and the tears came in her eyes.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;There, there, don&#8217;t cry,&#8217; said Kornicker. &#8216;It bothers me; I don&#8217;t
+	know what to do when women cry. But you haven&#8217;t a doctor; that
+	will never do. Keep up your heart,&#8217; said he, rising; &#8216;I&#8217;ll return
+	presently.&#8217; Saying this, and without waiting for a reply, he left the room.</p>
+
+	<p>Arriving in the street, his first impulse was not only to feel in his
+	pockets, but with the utmost care to turn them inside out, and to examine
+	them narrowly.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Not a copper&#8212;pockets to let!&#8217; said he, restoring them to their former
+	condition, after a long and unsuccessful search. &#8216;But this girl must be
+	looked after; that&#8217;s settled. Now then,&#8217; said he, in a very meditative
+	mood, &#8216;who&#8217;s able to do it and <em>will</em>?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>This seemed a question not easily answered, for he stood for more
+	than a minute in profound thought, in endeavoring to solve it; but apparently
+	making up his mind, he hurried along the street. The direction
+	which he took was toward the upper part of the city, and he was some
+	time in reaching his destination, which was no other than Harry
+	Harson&#8217;s house. He crossed the court-yard and knocked at the door,
+	which was opened by Harson.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;I want a word with you,&#8217; said Kornicker, abruptly.</p>
+
+	<p>Harson told him to come in; led the way to his sitting-room, and
+	pointing to a chair, told him to be seated.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;I haven&#8217;t time,&#8217; said Kornicker, shaking his head. &#8216;Do you
+	know me?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;I&#8217;ve seen you, but I can&#8217;t recollect where.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;<em>Here</em>,&#8217; said Kornicker, &#8216;here, in this room. I breakfasted here.
+	I&#8217;m Michael Rust&#8217;s clerk.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Then you can scarcely expect a cordial reception from <em>me</em>,&#8217; said
+	Harson, coldly.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;I don&#8217;t care what sort of a reception you give <em>me</em>,&#8217; replied Kornicker;
+	&#8216;you may kick me if it will be any comfort to you, provided you only
+	do what I ask. Michael Rust is dead, and his daughter is now dying,
+	with scarcely clothes to cover her, or a bed to lie in; without a cent to
+	buy her food or medicine; without a soul to say a single word of comfort
+	to her. I wouldn&#8217;t have troubled you, old fellow,&#8217; continued he,
+	with some warmth, at the same time turning out his pockets, &#8216;if I had
+	a cent to give her. The last I had I spent in getting a breakfast this
+	morning; and although it&#8217;s the only meal I&#8217;ve eaten to day, damme if
+	I would have touched it if I had thought to have found her in such
+	circumstances. But since you won&#8217;t help her, you may let it alone; I&#8217;m
+	not so hard run but that I can do something for her yet.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Kornicker had worked himself up into such an excitement, owing to
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page534" title="534">&nbsp;</a>Harson&#8217;s cold reception of him, that he took it for granted his request
+	was to be refused; and having thus vented his feelings he turned on his
+	heel to go, when the old man laid his hand on his shoulder.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Nature puts noble hearts in very rough cases,&#8217; said Harson, his eyes
+	glistening as he spoke. &#8216;You&#8217;re a good fellow, but rather hasty. I
+	didn&#8217;t say I would not assist the poor girl; on the contrary, you shall
+	see that I will. She has no doctor?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;No.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;No nurse?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;No.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Harson rang the bell. The house-keeper answered it.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Martha, put on your things,&#8217; said Harson; &#8216;I want you to sit up with
+	a sick person to-night. Bring a basket, and lights, and cups, and every
+	thing that&#8217;s necessary for one who has nothing. I&#8217;ll return in five
+	minutes; you must be ready by that time. Now then, Sir, come along;
+	you shall see what I&#8217;ll do next.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>He went into the street, and walked rapidly on, turning one or two
+	corners, but without going far, and at last knocked at the door of a small
+	house.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;A very excellent fellow lives here,&#8217; said he to Kornicker; &#8216;he&#8217;s a
+	doctor; and if this girl can be saved he&#8217;ll do it. Hark! there he comes.
+	I hear his step.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>The door was opened by the doctor himself, and a few words sufficed
+	to explain matters to him.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;I&#8217;ll be ready in a minute,&#8217; said he, darting in the room and as suddenly
+	returning, struggling his way into the arms of a great-coat. &#8216;Now
+	then,&#8217; exclaimed he, buttoning a single button, and dashing into the
+	street, &#8216;which way?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Where does she live?&#8217; asked Harson. &#8216;I&#8217;ll go back and bring the
+	nurse.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Kornicker told him, and was hurrying off, when Harson touched his
+	arm, and leading him a few steps aside, said in a low voice: &#8216;You seem
+	somewhat straitened for money, Mr. Kornicker; I wish you would accept
+	a loan from me.&#8217; He extended a bank-note to him.</p>
+
+	<p>Kornicker buttoned his pockets up very closely, not omitting a single
+	button, and then replied coldly: &#8216;I ask charity for others, not for myself.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Come, come,&#8217; said Harson, kindly, &#8216;you mustn&#8217;t bear malice. I
+	did not act well toward you at first; you must forget it; and to show
+	that you do so, you must take this loan from me.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;I don&#8217;t wish to borrow,&#8217; replied Kornicker.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Well, I&#8217;m sorry for it,&#8217; said Harson, taking his hand; &#8216;but you&#8217;re
+	not angry?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;No no, old fellow; it&#8217;s not an easy matter to keep angry with you;
+	you&#8217;re a trump!&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Perhaps you&#8217;ll sup with me when we return?&#8217; said the old man,
+	earnestly.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;I&#8217;ll see how the girl is,&#8217; replied Kornicker; &#8216;good bye. We&#8217;re
+	losing time.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Saying this, he shook hands with Harson, and joining the doctor, they
+	set out at a rapid pace for the girl&#8217;s abode.</p>
+
+	<p><a class="pagenum" id="page535" title="535">&nbsp;</a>They reached it without interruption, other than a short delay on the
+	part of the doctor, who being of a belligerent disposition, was desirous of
+	stopping to flog a man who had intentionally jostled him off the sidewalk.
+	Kornicker, however, by urging upon him the situation of the
+	girl, had induced him to postpone his purpose, not a little to the relief of
+	the offender, who in insulting him had only intended to insult an inoffensive
+	elderly person, who could not resent the affront.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Can it be possible that any thing human tenants such a den as this?&#8217;
+	said the doctor, looking at the half-hung door of the girl&#8217;s abode, and
+	listening to the wind as it sighed through broken window-panes and
+	along the entry.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Come on, and you&#8217;ll see,&#8217; replied Kornicker; and seizing him by
+	the arm, he led him half stumbling up the stairs, and finally paused at
+	the girl&#8217;s room.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Look in there, if you want to see comfort,&#8217; said he, with an irony
+	that seemed almost savage, from the laugh which accompanied it.
+	&#8216;Isn&#8217;t that a sweet death-chamber for one who all her life has had every
+	thing that money could buy?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>The doctor glanced in the room, then at the fierce, excited face of his
+	companion. &#8216;Come, come,&#8217; said he, in a kind tone, taking Kornicker&#8217;s
+	hand; &#8216;don&#8217;t give way to these feelings. She&#8217;ll be well taken care of
+	now. Harry Harson never does a good action by halves. Come in.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>He pushed the door open very gently, and went to the bed. The girl
+	seemed sleeping, for she did not move. He took the candle, and held
+	it so that the light fell on her face. He then placed his hand gently
+	upon her wrist. He kept it there for some moments, then held up the
+	light again, and looked at her face; after which he placed it on the
+	floor, rose up, and took a long survey of the room.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;It&#8217;s a wretched place,&#8217; said he, speaking in a whisper. &#8216;She must
+	have suffered terribly here.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;This is the way the poor live,&#8217; said Kornicker, in a low, bitter tone;
+	&#8216;this is the way <em>she</em> has lived; but we&#8217;ll save her from dying so.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>The doctor looked at him, and then turned away and bit his lip:</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;What are you going to do for her?&#8217; demanded Kornicker, after a
+	pause: &#8216;have you medicine with you?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;She requires nothing now,&#8217; said the doctor, in a tone scarcely above
+	a whisper. &#8216;She&#8217;s dead!&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Kornicker hastily took the light, and bent over her. He remained
+	thus for a long time; and when he rose, his eyes were filled with tears.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;I&#8217;m sorry I left her,&#8217; said he, in a vain effort to speak in his usual
+	tones. &#8216;It was very hard that she should die alone. I acted for the
+	best; but d&#8212;n it, I&#8217;m always wrong!&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>He dashed his fist across his face, walked to the window and looked
+	out.</p>
+
+	<p>At that moment the door opened, and Harson entered, his face somewhat
+	attempered in its joyous expression; and close behind followed the
+	house-keeper with a large basket.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;How is she?&#8217; asked he, in a subdued tone.</p>
+
+	<p>Kornicker made no reply, but looked resolutely out of the window, and
+	snuffed profusely. It would not have been manly to show that the large
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page536" title="536">&nbsp;</a>tears were coursing down his cheeks. Harson threw an inquiring
+	glance at the doctor, who answered by a shake of the head: &#8216;She was
+	dead when we got here.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Harson went to the bed, and put back the long tresses from her face.
+	There was much in that face to sadden the old man&#8217;s heart. Had it
+	been that of an old person, of one who had lived out her time, and
+	had been gathered in, in due season, he would have thought less of it;
+	but it was sad indeed to see one in the first blush of youth, scarcely
+	more than a child, stricken down and dying in such a place, and so
+	desolate.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Was there no one with her&#8212;not a soul?&#8217; inquired Harson, earnestly,
+	as he rose; &#8216;not one human being, to breathe a word of comfort
+	in her ear, or to whisper a kind word to cheer her on her long journey?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>The doctor shook his head: &#8216;No one.&#8217; Harson&#8217;s lips quivered, but
+	he pressed them tightly together, and turning to Kornicker said:</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Come, my good fellow, you must struggle against your feelings; you
+	must not be downcast about it. She&#8217;s better off than if she had
+	lived&#8212;much better off.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;I&#8217;m not in the least downcast,&#8217; replied Kornicker, in a very resolute
+	manner; &#8216;I don&#8217;t care a straw about it. She was nothing to me; only
+	it&#8217;s a little disagreeable to be living in this world without a soul to care
+	for, or a soul that cares for you; and then there was some satisfaction
+	in being of use to some one, and in feeling it was your duty to see that
+	no one imposed on her, or ill treated her; but no matter; it&#8217;s all over
+	now. I suppose it&#8217;s all right; and I feel quite cheerful, I assure you.
+	But you&#8217;ll look to her, will you? I can be of no farther use here, and
+	I&#8217;d rather go.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;I will,&#8217; said Harson.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;You won&#8217;t let her be buried as a pauper, I hope?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;No, upon my honor she shall not,&#8217; replied Harry.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Very well&#8212;good night.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Harson followed him down the stairs, and again endeavored to force
+	a sum of money upon him; but Kornicker was resolute in his refusal,
+	nor could he be induced to go home with Harson that evening. He said
+	that he was not hungry.</p>
+
+	<p>After several ineffectual efforts, the old man permitted him to depart,
+	with the internal resolution of keeping his eye on him, and of giving
+	him a helping hand in the world; a resolution which we may as well
+	mention that he carried out; so that in a few years Mr. Kornicker became
+	a very vivacious gentleman, of independent property, who frequented
+	a small ale-house in a retired corner of the city, where he
+	snuffed prodigally, and became a perfect oracle, and of much reputed
+	knowledge, from the sagacious manner in which he shook his head and
+	winked on all subjects.</p>
+
+	<h4 class="chapter_title">CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.</h4>
+
+	<p>It was a clear, cloudless night without, and the stars twinkled and
+	glistened as if the sky were full of bright eyes, looking gladly down
+	upon the world, and taking a share in all its gayety and happiness.
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page537" title="537">&nbsp;</a>There was no moon, or rather the moon was a reveller, and kept late
+	hours, and might be detected sneaking through the sky at about one or
+	two in the morning, when she should have been a-bed; and in consequence
+	of her neglect of duty the streets were dark, except where here
+	and there the shop windows threw out bright streams of light, revealing
+	now a wrinkled brow, now a fat, jolly face, and now a pair of bright
+	sparkling eyes, glowing cheeks, and lips like a rose-bud, as the throng
+	of people flitted past them; for an instant clear, distinct, with face, feature,
+	and form plainly visible, and then lost in the darkness. Some
+	paused to look in the windows, some to chat; and it might have been
+	observed, that those who lingered longest in the light, were young, and
+	such whose faces could bear both the test of light and scrutiny. But
+	amid that crowd was a single man, who followed the same course as the
+	rest; skulking in the dark corners, darting rapidly across the streams
+	of light, with his head bent down and his hat slouched, as if he desired
+	to avoid notice. When he reached those places which were comparatively
+	less thronged, he paused and leaned against the iron railings of
+	the houses, and more than once turned and retraced his steps, as if he
+	had changed or mistaken his route. He was, as far as could be judged
+	from the sudden and uncertain glimpses afforded of his person, tall and
+	gaunt, with sunken eyes, long unshorn beard, and a face disfigured by
+	a deep gash. He had the appearance of one broken down by ill health
+	or suffering, and his panting breath, as he stopped, showed that he was
+	taxing his strength by the pace at which he went. Although he paused
+	often, and often turned back, yet in the end he resumed his journey, and
+	finally reached the upper part of the city. There he struck into a dark
+	cross-street. Once free from the crowd, and where few could observe
+	him, his smothered feelings broke out; and muttering to himself, grating
+	his teeth, blaspheming, now striking his clenched fists as if aiming a
+	blow, he darted on. He did not pause until he came to the house of no
+	less a person than Harry Harson. He crossed the door-yard hastily,
+	as if he feared his resolution might give way; opened the front door,
+	for Harry had no enemies, and his door was unbolted, and entered the
+	outer room. The door communicating with the inner room was open,
+	so that he could see within; and perhaps never was there a greater
+	contrast than between the occupants of those two rooms. In one was a
+	man eaten up by fierce passions, desperate and hardened, with all that
+	is noble in the human soul burnt out as with a hot iron; in the other
+	sat an old man whose benevolent features beamed with good will to all
+	mankind. There was scarcely a wrinkle in the broad full brow; the
+	hair was sprinkled with gray; but what of that? His eye was bright;
+	his mouth teemed with good nature; and his heart&#8212;God bless thee,
+	old Harry Harson! what need to speak of thy heart?</p>
+
+	<p>The intruder had come in so noiselessly, although his motions were
+	rapid and bold, that Harson had not heard him, but sat reading a newspaper,
+	and was not a little startled in looking over it to see a man seated
+	within a few feet of him, and gazing at him with eyes as wild and
+	bright as those of a maniac.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Who are you, in the name of heaven?&#8217; ejaculated he, too surprised
+	even to rise, and looking at the stranger as if he still doubted the reality
+	of his being in that spot.</p>
+
+	<p><a class="pagenum" id="page538" title="538">&nbsp;</a>The man laughed, savagely: &#8216;Look at me, my master; look at me
+	<em>well</em>; you&#8217;ve seen me afore. Try and recollect it.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Harson&#8217;s embarrassment was not of long duration, and he examined
+	the man from head to foot. A vague recollection of having met him
+	somewhere, mingled with an indefinable feeling of suspicion and pain,
+	crossed Harson&#8217;s mind as he studied the sunken features which were
+	submitted unshrinkingly to his scrutiny. He thought, and pondered,
+	and wondered; and still the man remained unmoved. He looked
+	again; the man changed his position, and the light fell upon him from
+	another direction. Harson knew him at once. He started up: &#8216;Murderer,
+	I know you!&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>The man was on his feet at the same moment.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Down to your seat, Sir!&#8217; said he, in a loud, savage tone. &#8216;You&#8217;re
+	right; but you cannot take me alive, nor will mortal man. In that
+	room,&#8217; said he, in a low tone, and pointing toward the dark stair-case
+	which led to the upper part of the house, &#8216;I killed Tim Craig&#8212;the
+	only man that ever loved me. He&#8217;s been after me ever since!&#8217; He
+	leaned his face toward Harson, and looking stealthily over his shoulder
+	said in a whisper: &#8216;He&#8217;s waiting for me at the door. He sat down
+	on the stoop when I came in. I don&#8217;t know why I came here, but <em>he</em>
+	made me do it, and I must see where I killed him. It wasn&#8217;t me. It
+	was Rust; it was Rust. Hark!&#8217; He cast a hasty glance in the room
+	behind him. &#8216;I&#8217;m going, Tim, I&#8217;m going,&#8217; said he. &#8216;Quick! quick!
+	give me the light!&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Seizing the candle, before Harson could prevent him, he rushed out
+	of the room, and sprang up the stairs two at a time. Harson followed;
+	but before he reached the door of the upper room, with a yell so loud
+	and unearthly that it made the old man&#8217;s heart stand still, the murderer
+	darted out; his face livid; his hair bristling, his eyes starting with
+	horror. With a single bound he cleared the stairs; crossed the antechamber,
+	the gate swung heavily to, and he was gone! And this was
+	the last that was ever known of Bill Jones. A few months afterward,
+	the body of a man was found floating in one of the docks, and was supposed
+	to be his; but it was so mutilated and disfigured, that it was impossible
+	to ascertain the fact with any certainty, and it was deposited
+	in the earth with none to claim it or care for it, and with no mark to
+	designate that the soil above it shrouded a heart which had once throbbed
+	with all the hopes and fears and passions that were burning in the bosoms
+	of those who were carelessly loitering above its resting place.</p>
+
+	<h4 class="chapter_title">CHAPTER THIRTY.</h4>
+
+	<p>Ned Somers had followed Harson&#8217;s advice in not making his visits
+	to Rhoneland&#8217;s too frequent. But whatever may have passed between
+	him and Kate, and even if they did occasionally meet in the street and
+	stop to speak, and sometimes to hold conversations which were neither
+	short nor uninteresting to themselves, that is a matter between themselves
+	with which we have nothing to do. Certain it is, however, that
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page539" title="539">&nbsp;</a>as Ned cooled off in his intimacy with Rhoneland, he appeared to rise
+	in the old man&#8217;s estimation; and he grew more cordial when they <em>did</em>
+	meet. It may have been that the suspicions implanted by Rust were
+	gradually giving way before the frank, honest nature of the young man;
+	or it may have been that gratitude for the assistance which Somers had
+	lent, (and which Harson was very particular to give its full weight) in
+	disentangling him from the toils of Rust; or it may have been the secret
+	influence of Harson, who ventured, whenever it could be done, to speak
+	a good word for Ned; or it may have been the drooping face of his
+	child, which he was wont more than ever to study anxiously, that gradually
+	softened his feelings; but there is no doubt that, to Kate&#8217;s surprise,
+	he one day told her to get him pen, ink and paper, and to draw
+	the table in front of him, as he was going to write a letter. And it
+	must be confessed, that Kate&#8217;s color heightened, and her heart beat fast
+	when he had finished the letter, directed it to Mr. Edward Somers, and
+	then asked if she knew the address of Somers, which of course she
+	did; although she hesitated and stammered as if it were a profound
+	secret, and the answer the most difficult thing in the world.</p>
+
+	<p>But her surprise was scarcely greater than that of Ned himself, when
+	a boy came to him with a letter which ran thus:</p>
+
+	<div class="letter">
+	<p>&#8216;<span class="special_name">My dear Edward</span>: Come to me as soon as you can; I wish to see
+	you on a matter of much importance to both of us.</p>
+
+	<p class="sign centered_line">Yours truly,<br />
+	<span class="author">Jacob Rhoneland.&#8217;</span></p>
+	</div>
+
+	<p>Ned felt something bouncing about in a very queer manner directly
+	under his ribs, as he read this note; but the sensation was not so painful
+	as to prevent his obeying it with a speed that was perfectly marvellous;
+	for to Rhoneland it seemed that the letter could scarcely have reached
+	its destination before Ned was back with it in his hand.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;You got my note,&#8217; said he gravely, as Somers entered, his face
+	flushed with the rapidity with which he had come.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;I have.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Don&#8217;t go, Kate,&#8217; said he to his daughter, who with an inkling of
+	what was to follow, was stealing away. &#8216;What I have to say relates
+	to both of you.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Some time since,&#8217; said he, rising, and standing in front of Ned, &#8216;I
+	wronged you, by making charges against you which I am now convinced
+	were false. My mind was poisoned by one who has gone to his long
+	account, and whose evil deeds may sleep with him. For this,&#8217; said he,
+	extending his hand, &#8216;I ask your pardon; much more frankly and freely
+	than I did on the day when we met at Mr. Harson&#8217;s.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Ned took the proffered hand; at the same time pouring out a confusion
+	of words, the sum and substance of which was intended to be,
+	that he had taken no offence; that he knew Jacob was misled by others;
+	that he was not only perfectly willing, but very happy, to make up
+	the matter, and say no more about it; which no doubt was very true,
+	for within six feet of him stood Kate, with her soft eyes fixed on his face,
+	and her little mouth dimpled with smiles, as she observed how swimmingly
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page540" title="540">&nbsp;</a>matters were going on. And could he be crusty and dogged? or
+	could he cherish a grudge against <em>her</em> father? The thing was impossible.
+	The extended hand was grasped, and grasped warmly.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Another thing I have to speak of,&#8217; said Rhoneland, relaxing somewhat
+	at the cordial tone of Ned&#8217;s feelings. &#8216;It is but a short time since
+	I learnt the full extent of my obligations to you, for the part you took in
+	unmasking the character of Rust, and in obtaining from him a disavowal
+	of charges against me, which, false as they were, were hard indeed
+	to bear, and were breaking me down. I have not finished,&#8217; said
+	he, raising his hand to prevent the interruption which Somers was endeavoring
+	to make; &#8216;let me complete what I have to say, and you may
+	speak as much as you like, afterward. I will not thank you, for
+	thanks are but words, and too often mean nothing. Is there any thing
+	that I can <em>do</em>, to lessen my indebtedness to you?&#8212;or is there any way
+	in which I can pay it off altogether?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>He stopped, and looked earnestly in Ned&#8217;s face. The red blood
+	dashed up to Somers&#8217; very forehead, and he could scarcely breathe for
+	the thumping of his heart, as the idea crossed him that now was the
+	time to ask for Kate; nor was his agitation at all diminished by casting
+	a glance at her, and seeing her cheeks crimson and her eyes downcast,
+	as if she anticipated what was going on in his mind. It must be
+	confessed, however, that had Rhoneland had no other clue to his wishes
+	than that afforded by his words, he would have been very much in the
+	dark; for although Ned attempted to speak out boldly, his lips trembled
+	very much, and his voice was not as obedient as he could wish; and all
+	that was distinctly audible was the girl&#8217;s name.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Why lad, what ails thee?&#8217; asked Rhoneland, unbending, as he observed
+	the embarrassment of his guest. &#8216;You used to be as bold as a
+	lion. Come here Kate,&#8217; said he to his daughter; &#8216;this young fellow
+	has lost his voice; can <em>you</em> tell me what he wants?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>It was now Kate&#8217;s turn to grow confused, and the color to deepen on
+	her cheek; nor did she utter a word.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Young man,&#8217; continued Rhoneland, in a grave tone, &#8216;I did not send
+	for you to trifle with your feelings. You love my daughter, and would
+	ask for <em>her</em>, and you fear to do so lest the request should be refused.
+	She is yours. Treat her kindly, and keep even a shadow of sorrow
+	from falling upon her brow. If you do not, an old man&#8217;s curse will
+	rest upon you; and even though I be dead, and mouldering in my grave,
+	where my voice cannot reach you, that silent curse will follow you.&#8217;
+	He turned abruptly away, and left the room.</p>
+
+	<p>Ned Somers took Kate&#8217;s hand in his; passed his arm about her
+	waist, and drew her to him in so singular a manner, that their lips
+	could not but meet; and not only once, but at least some half-a-dozen
+	times.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;So you&#8217;re mine at last, Kate!&#8217; said he, looking into her very eyes,
+	whenever they were raised enough for him to do so. &#8216;Did I not tell
+	you to cheer up; and that all would be well? Did I not say so; and
+	wasn&#8217;t I right? And now, Kate,&#8217; said he, in a less confident tone, &#8216;your
+	father, though a most worthy old gentleman, is somewhat whimsical,
+	and might change his mind; so when shall <em>it</em> be?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p><a class="pagenum" id="page541" title="541">&nbsp;</a>Kate&#8217;s reply was so very low, that it reached no ears except those of
+	Ned; but whatever it was, it is certain that on that day month they had
+	been married a week, and were deep in preparations for a merry-making
+	to be held on that very evening at Rhoneland&#8217;s old house, which
+	had been so furbished up and renovated, under the auspices of the
+	young couple, that every thing in it seemed to shine again. A party
+	at Jacob Rhoneland&#8217;s! It was a thing unheard of, and produced quite
+	a sensation in the drowsy part of the town where he lived. Never had
+	a household been in such a fluster as his was. What deep consultations
+	were held to prevent the old man&#8212;who seemed to have grown
+	quite cheerful and light-hearted, and chirruped about the house like
+	some gay old old cricket&#8212;from meddling in every thing, and to throw
+	dust in his eyes, so as to make him suppose that he was having every
+	thing in his own way, when in fact he was having nothing. And then
+	what a time it took, and what entreaties, to prevail on him to let the great
+	wooden chest, studded with brass nails, which he never took his eye
+	from, be removed to an upper-chamber, to make room for their guests.
+	But Harry Harson, who was in the thick of all the doings, in and out
+	a dozen times in an hour; rubbing his hands and enjoying the bustle,
+	giving advice, suggesting this thing and that, and setting every thing
+	wrong; managed to get the great chest out of the way, for he dragged it
+	up stairs under Rhoneland&#8217;s very nose, and in the teeth of his remonstrances;
+	and depositing it in a little out-of-the-way room, very difficult
+	of access, by reason of the angles and turns in the entry, and the size
+	of the chest, told Rhoneland that if he wanted it below he might take
+	it there himself; but that it was better where it was, and much more
+	safe and out of the way; in which opinion Rhoneland finally coincided.</p>
+
+	<p>Betimes Kate came down stairs to receive her guests, looking so
+	charmingly, and her eyes flashing with such malicious brightness,
+	that on meeting her in the entry Ned stopped to kiss her, and tell her
+	that she was looking &#8216;gloriously;&#8217; a performance and observation by
+	the way, which he had already repeated half-a-dozen times in the course
+	of the last hour. By twos and threes the guests began to arrive, and
+	went up stairs. There was a great clatter above, where they were
+	taking off their things. It took a wonderful time to remove the hats
+	and shawls; for although for a long time up they went, none came
+	down. There must have been thirty assembled above stairs. At last
+	Harry Harson, who was in the room with Ned and Kate, dressed in his
+	best black suit, and looking as young and merry as any of them, vowed
+	that he would not stand it, and sallied up stairs and sent them down in
+	a drove. How bright and cheerful they all were! how the congratulations
+	poured in upon Ned and Kate; and hopes for his future happiness,
+	and that he might have a large fortune, and a large family to help him
+	take care of it.</p>
+
+	<p>A loud scraping and jingling announced that the music was there,
+	and put a stop to such flummery as conversation. The young folks
+	were going into the business of the evening. The little stunted black
+	fiddler with rings in his ears, was mounted on one chair; the big, fat
+	fiddler, who fiddled with his eyes shut, was seated on another; and the
+	goggle-eyed negro, with a self-satisfied face, who simpered on every
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page542" title="542">&nbsp;</a>body, and flourished the tambourine, was placed like an umbrella in the
+	corner, to be out of the way.</p>
+
+	<p>The fat fiddler called out for the gentlemen to choose their partners
+	for a quadrille. Then came the long premonitory screeching of the
+	fiddle-bow across the cat-gut; then the slight, tremulous jingle of the
+	tambourine, as if the goggle-eyed negro were dying to begin; then the
+	bustling and hustling, and squeezing of the couples, until they had obtained
+	their places in the dance. Then the scientific look of the fat fiddler,
+	as he opened his eyes and surveyed the whole, to see that all was
+	right; then the slight clearing of his throat, as he threw his head on one
+	side, bellowed out &#8216;right and left,&#8217; and forthwith plunged into the matter,
+	might and main. Away he went, but fast and furious at his heels
+	followed the little stunted fiddler; and loud above the din of both, rose
+	the rattle of the tambourine. &#8216;Right hand across! forward two; balancez;
+	ladies chain; forward four; dos-à-dos; chassez to the right;
+	cross over; all round;&#8217; here, there, every where, and all over&#8212;he was
+	up to it all. In vain the dancers fairly flew; the fat fiddler was equal
+	to all emergencies; he never lagged; he was sometimes too fast, but
+	never&#8212;no, not for a single instant&#8212;was he behind.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Whew!&#8217; said he, as he gave the final flourish of his bow, and laying
+	it aside, wiped his forehead on his coat-sleeve, and called for a tumbler
+	of cold water. And thereupon the stunted fiddler and the tambourine
+	made the same request; the latter suggesting that his glass might
+	be tempered with a &#8216;small spirt of gin,&#8217; without hurting his feelings.</p>
+
+	<p>In that dance, the lightest step and merriest voice was that of Harson,
+	who led out the bride, and footed it there with the best of them; and
+	who through the whole evening was bustling around the room, with a
+	kind word for every one, and as much at home as if the house, and the
+	company, and even the bride, belonged to him. And in fact, one or two
+	of the guests&#8212;but they were unsophisticated people from the country&#8212;were
+	for some time under the delusion that Harry was the bridegroom,
+	instead of the quiet young fellow who was seen walking about
+	the rooms, talking to the disagreeable old women, and getting partners
+	for the ugly young ones, without their knowing it; but all in such an
+	unobtrusive manner that he seemed quite a nobody when compared with
+	Harson.</p>
+
+	<p>But there must be an end even to the merriest meetings; and when
+	they had kept it up until the night had got among the small hours, they
+	began to drop off. And here, amid the adieus of departing guests, we
+	will take our leave of the young couple; for it is far pleasanter to bid
+	farewell to those whose friendship we have cherished when hope is strong
+	and bright, than when care or disappointment has flung its shadow over
+	their hearts.</p>
+
+	<h4 class="chapter_title">CHAPTER THE LAST.</h4>
+
+	<p>A few weeks had elapsed, and a small group were gathered one evening
+	at Harson&#8217;s fireside. It was composed of three persons beside
+	Harson. The first was a man of about fifty; he might have been
+	younger; and the heavy wrinkles which were scored across his forehead
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page543" title="543">&nbsp;</a>may have been the fruit of trouble and care, for they were almost
+	too deep for his years; his mouth was firmly compressed, like that of
+	one in the habit of mastering strong feelings; and the whole character
+	of his face would have been stern, but for his dark, gray eye, which at
+	times brightened up almost to childish playfulness. This was Mr.
+	Colton, the father of Harson&#8217;s protegé, Annie. The child herself was
+	seated on Harson&#8217;s knee, sound asleep, with her head resting on his
+	breast. The only other person in the group was the wife of Mr. Colton.
+	She was quite young, and had once possessed great beauty&#8212;the beauty
+	of youth and happiness; but that was gone, and in its place was the patient
+	look of one who had suffered much, and in silence. She spoke
+	seldom, and in a low tone, so soft and musical that one regretted when
+	the voice ceased.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Your letter,&#8217; said Mr. Colton, in continuation of a previous conversation,
+	&#8216;put an end to all my plans respecting my poor niece. I had
+	hoped to assist her; for knowing her father&#8217;s hostility to her, I feared
+	that she might be in want. Her death was a very melancholy one.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>He looked in the fire in deep thought, and for a short time a silence
+	ensued which no one seemed inclined to break.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;I never saw her,&#8217; said his wife, after some moments; &#8216;I think <em>you</em>
+	did.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Yes, once&#8212;at the trial,&#8217; replied he, uttering the last words with an
+	effort, as if the subject were painful. &#8216;She was very beautiful.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Did she resemble her father?&#8217; inquired Mrs. Colton.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Perhaps I can settle that question more easily than any one,&#8217; said
+	Harson, rising up, &#8216;by letting you judge for yourself.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>He went to a small curtain which hung against the wall, and drawing
+	it aside, disclosed a portrait of Rust&#8217;s daughter&#8212;the same which
+	Rust had brooded over with such mingled emotions on the night previous
+	to the murder. The same childlike, innocent smile, played round
+	the small, dimpled mouth; the same calm, thoughtful expression of intellect
+	mingled with gentleness, shone out of the eyes. All was as it
+	was when father and child last looked upon it&#8212;the criminal and her
+	accuser. Every line was unaltered; but where were they? <span class="special_emphasis">Dust</span>!
+	They had acted their part on earth; their love, their hate, their fears,
+	their remorse, were past. The tide of time was hurrying on, bringing
+	life and death, and hopes and fears to others, but sweeping from the
+	earth all trace of their footsteps. To them forever, aye even until the
+	last trump, time and thought, and care and feeling, had no existence!</p>
+
+	<p>Mrs. Colton&#8217;s eyes filled with tears as she gazed upon the picture.
+	&#8216;She deserved a happier fate,&#8217; said she, in a subdued tone, as if she
+	feared to disturb the spell which seemed to hang about it.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;It was ordained for the best,&#8217; replied Harson, in a grave tone, as he
+	regarded the portrait with a kind of solemn interest. Then, after a moment,
+	he added: &#8216;That <em>was</em> her, before want and suffering had laid
+	their iron finger upon her. When I saw her, she was dead. She was
+	very beautiful even then; but in the short time that had elapsed since
+	her father&#8217;s imprisonment, the work of years had been performed; she
+	seemed much older and thinner, and more care-worn.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p><a class="pagenum" id="page544" title="544">&nbsp;</a>&#8216;How did you get this?&#8217; inquired Mr. Colton, pointing to the picture.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;A friend of mine, the person who aided the girl in her last moments,
+	accidentally learned that it was for sale, and begged me to buy it. He
+	was too poor to do it, and I was willing to gratify him; and so the picture
+	became mine.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Mr. Colton looked at him for a few moments, as if on the point of
+	making some remark, and then walked to the other end of the room and
+	took a seat without a word. He was aroused by the child climbing on
+	his knee, and putting her arms about his neck.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;God protect you, my child!&#8217; said he, laying his hand affectionately
+	on her head; &#8216;may you never know the misery which has fallen upon
+	that poor girl!&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>The words were intended to be inaudible, but they reached the ear
+	of his wife, who going up to him, and laying her hand on his arm, said
+	in a low voice: &#8216;Come, come, George, do not give way to these feelings.
+	You must not be gloomy.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>He looked at her sadly, and then placing his finger on his heart, said:
+	&#8216;Is not what has been going on here, for years, enough to wither to the
+	root every feeling of cheerfulness, so that it should never again put forth
+	a blossom?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Hush! hush!&#8217; interrupted his wife, in a whisper; &#8216;if you <em>have</em> suffered,
+	you have gained at last what you have always prayed for; while
+	<em>he</em>, the one who caused it all, has paid the penalty of his misdeeds.
+	Remember what his fate was.&#8217; She pointed to the picture: &#8216;Remember
+	too, the fate of his only child. George, George! his punishment
+	has been terrible, even in <em>this</em> world!&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;You are right, Mary&#8212;<span class="special_name">God</span> forgive me! I&#8217;ll think of it no more.
+	<em>He</em> and I were nursed in the same arms, and watched by the same fond
+	mother. From the bottom of my heart I forgive him. It would be sacrilege
+	to her memory, for me to harbor an unkind feeling toward even
+	a stranger, if she had loved him.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>He was silent for a moment, and then addressing Harson, enquired:</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Who is this Mr. Kornicker?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;A poor fellow, with little to help him through the world but careless
+	habits and a good heart.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;What character does he bear?&#8217; inquired the other.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Such as might be expected from his position,&#8217; replied Harson; &#8216;full
+	of flaws, but with a vein of gold running through it. Nature has given
+	him fine feelings, and fortune, unluckily, has placed him in a situation
+	where such feelings are impediments rather than otherwise. But he is
+	a noble fellow for all that.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Where can he be found?&#8217; asked his guest.</p>
+
+	<p>Harson probably anticipated the object of this inquiry, for he said
+	with a laugh:</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;He has been taken care of; he has been placed where the means of
+	livelihood and competence are in his grasp, if he will but work for them.
+	And what is better yet, he seems disposed to do so, although not much
+	can be expected of him at first. I do not think,&#8217; added he, &#8216;that it contributes
+	to the happiness of a young man, with a long life before him, to
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page545" title="545">&nbsp;</a>be altogether idle. I will do all that I can to help him; but he must
+	work. It will be more easy for him as he gets used to the traces.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>The stranger acquiesced in this remark, and then added: &#8216;I will take
+	his address, nevertheless, for I must see him when I return to the city,
+	which will be very shortly; but you seem to have anticipated me in
+	every thing. Even the lawyer, Mr. Holmes, declined to be paid for his
+	services. He said that <em>this</em> was not strictly a business matter, and that
+	what he had done was out of friendship for you, and that I had better
+	pocket the fee and drop the subject; at the same time, he said he was
+	going to dinner, and asked me to join him, which I did, and a very
+	pleasant time we had of it.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>A good-natured laugh was indulged at the peculiarities of the old
+	lawyer, and many stories told of him, and of others who have figured
+	in this history. Nor was it until the little clock over the mantel-piece
+	seemed to give a very vehement wag of its pendulum as it struck twelve,
+	and Spite, who had been asleep in the corner, bounced up, alarmed at
+	the lateness of the night, and barked vociferously, that they dreamed of
+	going to bed.</p>
+
+	<p>The strangers were Harson&#8217;s guests that night; and the old man,
+	having escorted them to their room, and wished them good night, was
+	himself soon in bed and asleep.</p>
+
+	<p>Bright and early the next morning, they were astir; for they were to
+	leave the city, and Harson was up and ready to see them off. It was
+	a fine morning; the trees were just beginning to put forth their spring
+	leaves, and the grass in the public squares was looking quite fresh and
+	green, as they drove down to the wharf, where the steamer lay, whizzing
+	and puffing, and groaning as if in mortal pain, and tugging at its
+	cable like some shackled sea-monster struggling to escape to its home
+	in the deep. Early as it was, crowds were hurrying to and fro; carts
+	driving up and unloading; porters staggering along with trunks and
+	bales on their shoulders; carriages dashing up at a gallop, filled with
+	people afraid of being too late, and going off more leisurely after the
+	passengers were deposited on the wharf. People were bustling hither
+	and thither, elbowing their way to one place, merely to find out where
+	to elbow it to the next; friends were bidding each other adieu; and in
+	particular, a stout lady from the country, in yellow ribbons, from the
+	upper part of the boat was sending a confidential message to her family
+	and friends by a gentleman who stood in the crowd some sixty yards off.</p>
+
+	<p>Through this throng the coach containing our friends drove, and just
+	in good time, for as they stepped on board, the last bell rang.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;All aboard!&#8217; shouted the captain; &#8216;take in the plank.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Harson shook hands with his friends. &#8216;God bless thee, my child!&#8217;
+	said he, pressing Annie in his arms. The next moment he stepped
+	on shore; and the boat glided from the dock, and shot out upon the
+	green water.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Ah, Annie!&#8217; said the old man, as he stopped waving his hand, and
+	turned away from the river, &#8216;I had hoped that you would have been
+	mine own as long as I lived; but it&#8217;s all right as it is. Your brother,&#8217;
+	added he, &#8216;I did not miss much, when his parents took him, but <em>you</em>
+	had become a part of my home. Well, well!&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p><a class="pagenum" id="page546" title="546">&nbsp;</a>No doubt there was a great deal of hidden consolation in these last
+	words; for Harson&#8217;s face soon recovered its usual cheerful character,
+	and he steadily trudged toward his home.</p>
+
+	<p>A few words respecting the other characters, and our task is ended.</p>
+
+	<p>Grosket was induced by Mr. Colton to remove to the country, where
+	an intercourse with different and better men than those with whom he
+	had hitherto associated tended in a great measure to soften his character,
+	and temper his fierce passions&#8212;the offspring of persecution and
+	suffering.</p>
+
+	<p>Mrs. Blossom, at first alarmed by the fear of the law, grew penitent
+	and rigorous in the discharge of her moral obligations to society; but
+	the Law being a notorious sleepy-head, and never appearing to have its
+	eyes open, she gradually fell into her old habits, reöpened her &#8216;seminary
+	for lambs;&#8217; and from the great quantity of her disciples which
+	frequent the thoroughfares of the city at present, I should judge is getting
+	along prosperously. Mr. Snork was extremely desirous of becoming
+	a partner in the concern, and made several overtures to that
+	effect, which might have been accepted by the lady, had he not objected
+	to being deprived of his eye-sight, and seated at a corner to receive pennies
+	from passers-by. It was in vain that the lady represented to him
+	that this would be the making of their respective fortunes; that blind
+	beggars, particularly if they were remarkably disgusting, as was the
+	case with him, had been known to retire with handsome fortunes, and
+	that some of them even bought snug little farms in the country, and kept
+	a horse and &#8216;shay.&#8217; Mr. Snork however, was obstinate; his proposals
+	were accordingly rejected, and he returned disconsolately to his
+	abode, which was now lonely, his wife having paid a visit to the penitentiary,
+	for the benefit of the country air.</p>
+
+	<p>The widow, Mrs. Chowles, still lives in her quiet, blinking little house,
+	as cheerful and contented as ever; as happy as ever to hear Harry&#8217;s
+	heavy step, and to see his honest face in his old corner in her parlor;
+	and although he is no longer accompanied by Spite, who has grown old
+	and rheumatic, so that he is unable to stir from the chimney-corner,
+	where he passes his time in crabbed solitude, except when he turns up
+	his dim eyes to his old master, as he hears his voice, and feels his caressing
+	hand on his head: all else is as it was in that little household; and
+	that it may long continue, is our warmest wish.</p>
+
+	<h4 class="chapter_title">CONCLUSION.</h4>
+
+	<p>Mr. Stites&#8217; manuscript was written at different times, and in different
+	hands. The little man was evidently troubled with a defective
+	memory, (although I would not tell him so for the world,) and has permitted
+	many strange mistakes and anachronisms to creep into his tale,
+	which inclines me to think that the whole matter is not so authentic as
+	he pretends, but has been gleaned in various parcels from the regions of
+	romance. But as he is not a little tetchy on the score of his veracity, I
+	can only suggest that the tale be regarded by his good natured readers
+	rather as a fiction than sober truth.</p>
+
+	<p>From beginning to end, strong disapprobation has been expressed by
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page547" title="547">&nbsp;</a>Mr. Snagg, who says that &#8216;that d&#8212;d dog is enough to kill any story,
+	and that for his part, he doesn&#8217;t think much of Stites; never did, and
+	never will; and that a single hair of Slaughter&#8217;s tail was worth Stites&#8217;
+	marrow, fat and kidneys, all done up together.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>It is useless to argue with him; and I find the most judicious mode
+	of disposing of the matter is to let the question remain unanswered; by
+	which means he soon comes round, begins to discover a few merits in
+	the manuscript, and finally concludes with a warm panegyric upon Mr.
+	<span class="special_name">Stites</span> himself, always however with a reservation as to the dog, whom
+	he swears &#8216;he never shall be able to stomach.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>In all respects, my quiet old home remains as it was. The same
+	mystery hangs about it as formerly. The interest which for a time was
+	excited respecting it, when I gave an account of the murder which had
+	left it shunned and tenantless, has died away; and with the exception
+	of Mr. Snagg, Mr. Stites, and my dog, I have few visiters. Perhaps it
+	is best that it should be so; for I have the spectres of no hard feelings
+	nor bitter thoughts, nor painful recollections to haunt me, requiring excitement
+	and bustle to drive them off; and old age demands time for
+	solemn thought and serious meditation, to enable it to wean itself from
+	the past, and look cheerfully forward to the future.</p>
+
+	<p>But no more of myself. My task is ended; and I now bid you farewell!</p>
+
+	<p class="sign"><span class="author">John Quod.</span></p>
+
+</div>
+<div class="article">
+	<h2 class="title">THE PAST.</h2>
+
+
+	<div class="poem">
+		<h3 class="subtitle">I.</h3>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p><span class="first_word">Despair</span> not, though thy course is drear,</p>
+			<p class="i2">The past has pleasures for us all;</p>
+			<p>Bright scenes and things to hearts most dear,</p>
+			<p class="i2">And those how fondly we recall.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">II.</h3>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>Such as some lovely girl we knew;</p>
+			<p class="i2">Such as some touching song we heard;</p>
+			<p>Such as some evening spent, when flew</p>
+			<p class="i2">The hours as swift as passing bird.</p>
+		</div>
+
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">III.</h3>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>Such as some well-tried friend we had;</p>
+			<p class="i2">Such as some acts of kindness done,</p>
+			<p>Yet rising up to make us glad,</p>
+			<p class="i2">And so will rise when years are gone.</p>
+		</div>
+
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">IV.</h3>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>Despair not! still be innocent;</p>
+			<p class="i2">Admire the beautiful, the good,</p>
+			<p>And when the cry of woe is sent,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Turn to relieve, in pitying mood.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">V.</h3>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>So shall the present, when 'tis past,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Rich with harmonious scenes appear,</p>
+			<p>No gloomy shadows o'er it cast,</p>
+			<p class="i2">No spectres there, to make thee fear.</p>
+		</div>
+	</div>
+
+	<p class="sign"><span class="author">E. G.</span></p>
+</div>
+<div class="article">
+	<h2 class="title"><a class="pagenum" id="page548" title="548">&nbsp;</a>THE HEARTH OF HOME.</h2>
+
+	<p class="byline">BY MARY E. HEWITT.</p>
+
+
+	<div class="poem">
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p><span class="first_word">The</span> storm around my dwelling sweeps,</p>
+			<p>And while the dry boughs fierce it reaps,</p>
+			<p>My heart within a vigil keeps,</p>
+			<p class="i2">The warm and cheering hearth beside;</p>
+			<p>And as I mark the kindling glow</p>
+			<p>Brightly o&#8217;er all its radiance throw,</p>
+			<p>Back to the years my memories flow,</p>
+			<p class="i2">When Rome sat on her hills in pride;</p>
+			<p>When every stream and grove and tree</p>
+			<p>And fountain had its deity.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>The hearth was then, &#8217;mong low and great,</p>
+			<p>Unto the Lares consecrate:</p>
+			<p>The youth arrived to man&#8217;s estate</p>
+			<p class="i2">There offered up his golden heart;</p>
+			<p>Thither, when overwhelmed with dread,</p>
+			<p>The stranger still for refuge fled,</p>
+			<p>Was kindly cheered, and warmed, and fed,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Till he might fearless thence depart:</p>
+			<p>And there the slave, a slave no more,</p>
+			<p>Hung reverent up the chain he wore.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>Full many a change the hearth hath known;</p>
+			<p>The Druid fire, the curfew&#8217;s tone,</p>
+			<p>The log that bright at yule-tide shone,</p>
+			<p class="i2">The merry sports of Hallow-e&#8217;en;</p>
+			<p>Yet still where&#8217;er a home is found,</p>
+			<p>Gather the warm affections round,</p>
+			<p>And there the notes of mirth resound,</p>
+			<p class="i2">The voice of wisdom heard between:</p>
+			<p>And welcomed there with words of grace,</p>
+			<p>The stranger finds a resting place.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>Oh! wheresoe&#8217;er our feet may roam,</p>
+			<p>Still sacred is the hearth of home;</p>
+			<p>Whether beneath the princely dome,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Or peasant&#8217;s lowly roof it be,</p>
+			<p>For home the wanderer ever yearns;</p>
+			<p>Backward to where its hearth-fire burns,</p>
+			<p>Like to the wife of old, he turns</p>
+			<p class="i2">Ever the eyes of memory.</p>
+			<p>Back where his heart he offered first&#8212;</p>
+			<p>Back where his fond young hopes he nursed.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>My humble hearth though all disdain,</p>
+			<p>Here may I cast aside the chain</p>
+			<p>The world hath coldly on me lain;</p>
+			<p class="i2">Here to my <span class="special_name">Lares</span> offer up</p>
+			<p>The warm prayer of a grateful heart;</p>
+			<p><span class="special_name">Thou</span> that my household guardian art,</p>
+			<p>That dost to me thine aid impart,</p>
+			<p class="i2">And with thy mercy fill&#8217;st my cup;</p>
+			<p>Strengthen the hope within my soul,</p>
+			<p>Till I in faith may reach the goal.</p>
+		</div>
+	</div>
+
+</div>
+<div class="article">
+	<h2 class="title"><a class="pagenum" id="page549" title="549">&nbsp;</a>PROFESSOR SHAW.</h2>
+
+	<p class="subtitle">A SKETCH.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="special_name">Plutarch Shaw</span>, the naturalist, was lately in the stocks, which has
+	been a matter of much talk among the virtuosi, and a good deal of malicious
+	laughter on all hands. He cut a devil of a figure, rest assured,
+	propped up in a straight jacket, his eye fiery with vengeance; the innocent
+	victim of &#8216;circumstances,&#8217; and that very common error of putting
+	the saddle on the wrong horse. A very little explanation will serve to
+	place this matter in the right light, and show by what a fantastic adventure
+	an honest man, who was alway given to roam over much territory,
+	was suddenly placed upon the limits, and one of the most profound
+	explorers of the curious became himself for the time being a
+	curiosity.</p>
+
+	<p>Mr. Shaw is so much of an enthusiast, that it is very unpleasant to
+	stand near him when he is talking about his bugs, or exhibiting his
+	specimens, on account of being spattered all over with the spray of his
+	eloquence. A bat shot down in the dusk of the evening is enough to
+	set him half crazy, and make the saliva fly all over; it rolls and surges
+	against the bulwarks of his jagged teeth in a rabid foam, showers out
+	with his descriptions, and makes him only tolerable at arm&#8217;s length.
+	The beetles and butterflies which he has transfixed are innumerable;
+	and he is perpetually syringing down the humming-birds, as stationary
+	on vibrating wings, these beautiful creatures of the air plunge their
+	beaks deep into the cups of flowers. With him pin-money is an item.
+	If he marks any thing curious in the natural world, he &#8216;sticks a pin
+	there,&#8217; and keeps it for future reference; any thing from a lady-bug
+	ready to unfold suddenly the gauze upon its hard back, where you would
+	think no wings existed, and fly away, to an offensive black beetle that
+	snuffs the candle, or cracks its head against the wall, thence upward in
+	the scale to the bird which Liberty loves as her sublimest emblem, the
+	proudest of the proud, the bird of our own mountains, and the eagle of
+	our own skies.</p>
+
+	<p class="quotation">&#8216;I would not heedlessly set foot upon a worm,&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>writes Cowper: not so however with the great Shaw, whose collection
+	of worms is most disgusting; exceeded only by his reptiles preserved
+	in spirits, with all their sickening exhibition of claws. He has got some
+	dragons that fall little short of the Devil himself in general hideousness
+	and outrageous tails; some noots brought from Nootka Sound; some
+	green monsters from Green Bay; some devilish things from Van Diemon&#8217;s
+	land; and finally, Plutarch is himself hideous, and ought to be
+	put in a collection, which by the by, he lately <em>was</em>. It was a great era
+	in his life time when he shot a wild-cat; that however has nothing to
+	do with the present story, and must be told shortly. He threw a stone
+	at him, it seems, to frighten him out of the bushes, where by dint of
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page550" title="550">&nbsp;</a>sneaking he discovered something with a white and black fur, moving
+	about in a short compass. Breathless with excitement, standing on tip-toe,
+	dodging his head among the brambles, all ready, and meaning to
+	have a shot at him &#8216;pretty soon,&#8217; he was whispering to himself, telling
+	himself in a mysterious voice to &#8216;hold fast,&#8217; not to budge, but wait for
+	the next movement; when this <em>pole-cat</em>&#8212;there is a distinction, it is
+	well known in the species, nor in the present instance was it a &#8216;distinction
+	without a difference&#8217;&#8212;opened the batteries with the precision
+	of an artillery officer. &#8216;O my eyes!&#8217; was the exclamation of Professor
+	Shaw, &#8216;my eyes! my eyes! my eyes!&#8217; It was a great era in his life
+	time also when he shot a plover; <em>that</em> however has little to do with the
+	present story, and must be told shortly. It was on the Big Plains, where
+	not a tree nor shrub may be seen for miles around; where ambuscades
+	are unknown, and it is very hard to steal a march upon the timid birds
+	which are frightened at a very shadow; only they do not fear the flocks
+	and herds which pasture upon the plains, but tamely pick up the worms
+	beneath their feet. Professor Shaw hit upon an expedient to surprise
+	them, which no other person would have thought of, than one of his extreme
+	ingenuity: a big box, opened at both ends, into which he crawled
+	with fowling-piece in hand. First, however, he procured an ox-hide at
+	the stall of a neighboring farm, with all its apparatus of horns, and
+	placed it over the box, to give it the appearance at a distance, of a <em lang="la" xml:lang="la">bonâ
+	fide</em> ox. Sure enough, this scheme worked well. On came the plovers,
+	hopping about with much unconcern. Shaw chuckled. He flattered
+	himself that he should be the death of some of them, if his own life
+	were only spared a few moments. While he hammered the flint of his
+	fowling-piece with an old jack-knife, he heard a distant rumbling sound,
+	which soon waxed terrible, and caused him to thrust out his head.
+	Thunder and Mars! what should he do? If he ran, it was all up with
+	him, and he was a dead man if he staid where he was. A wild bull
+	of the prairies was cutting up shines at no great distance, tearing up
+	the sod with hoofs and horns, and threatening to demolish that refuge
+	of lies. Shaw poked out his head, and drew it in again, clutching his
+	fowling-piece convulsively, and trembling in an agony of fear. Involuntarily
+	he began to say his prayers. &#8216;Our Father who art in heaven,&#8217;
+	said he, with great fervor. The bull was now up, bellowing in a tumultuous
+	passion, galloping round and round in circles which were diminishing
+	with every turn, getting his horns ready to toss the whole fiction
+	of an ox, box, hide, horns, Plutarch Shaw and all, into the air. &#8216;Help!
+	help!&#8217; shrieked the philosopher; &#8216;I&#8217;ll come out; I must, I must, I <em>must!</em>&#8217;
+	And he <em>did</em> come out, by far the most sneaking object for miles around
+	on the Big Plains. Some men who were hunting plover from a wagon,
+	(which is the right way,) saw his fantastic position with mingled laughter
+	and alarm. They drove to his assistance, but the horses shyed off at
+	the terrific conduct of the bull, whose onslaught was now made upon
+	the box, which he attacked hoof and horn. Mr. Shaw had barely
+	strength to reach the shelter of the wagon, into which he was taken,
+	much chap-fallen, and resuscitated with brandy-and-water, which were
+	luckily at hand.</p>
+
+	<p>He was an &#8216;odd fish,&#8217; unanimously so styled, by those who knew him,
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page551" title="551">&nbsp;</a>nor did his appearance belie him, as he started forth on a geological excursion
+	in the month of May last, making poems and tuning pianos by
+	the way. He strung up the old harpsicords to the satisfaction of the
+	country girls, who thought he &#8216;played on music&#8217; with great skill, but
+	his eyes were the very wildest. Was Professor Shaw crazy? By no
+	means. As a proof of it, he had written several poems as voluminous as
+	the Fredoniad; which were unavailing for the present, but which he <em>did</em>
+	hope that his &#8216;country would not willingly let die;&#8217; added to this, some
+	marches in double quick time, some intricate and inwoven harmonies
+	in the transcendental style, stanzas set to music, thrown forth when the
+	excitement was upon him, and fugitives from justice. Yet all these
+	were nothing, to judge by dark and mysterious hints which were given
+	out, of some <span class="small_all_caps">GREAT WORK</span> at which he was now laboring, which the
+	world, (he said it with a presentiment of triumph) would be <em>compelled</em>
+	to own. But, as I remarked, his appearance did not belie him. Whoever
+	might doubt his metaphysics, his legs were unquestionably the very
+	longest, by the assistance of which he had lately won a foot-race on the
+	Union course for a hundred dollars, to enable him to pursue his studies
+	for the ministry. &#8216;Accoutred as he was,&#8217; on one fine day in the month
+	of May, he had wandered to a distant part of the country with a walking-stick,
+	furnished at the extremity with a small hammer. Absorbed in
+	revery, and constructing verses by the way, he arrived at last in a romantic
+	valley, where he was soon busily employed in cracking rocks,
+	and collecting specimens for his cabinet.</p>
+
+	<p>The solitude and pleasant walks were eminently suited to the mind
+	of Professor Shaw. The babbling of the rills which came down the
+	hill sides and washed the pebbles at his feet, were soothing to the sense,
+	and the birds sang sweetly on the trees, which were covered with the
+	blossoms of the spring. Only a single dwelling was seen on one of
+	those swelling hills which rose above each other, gently and far away,
+	till their last undulating lines were limited by the horizon&#8217;s blue verge.
+	The eye wandered with pleasure over the diversified prospect, which
+	included the boundaries of three sovereign states, with various rivers,
+	valleys and fertile fields. On such a spot, where Nature reigned and
+	developed herself in quiet beauty, whether in the voluptuous budding
+	of the spring, or in the year&#8217;s gorgeous decline, Charity had taken the
+	hint and erected an asylum for the insane. Happy invocation of Nature,
+	most kind and gentle saviour of the sick, who meeting her in her quiet
+	haunts may touch her beautiful garments and be whole! In the exhilarating
+	sunshine, in the fields garnished so exquisitely by our good
+	God, in the religious woods, the circling hills, and the unbounded sky,
+	there is a force of healing, when Art has consigned the victim to despair,
+	and the soothing hand aggravates the deep-rooted sorrow. Nature gently
+	re-conducts the lost mind through its labyrinth of error, speaking sweet
+	consolation in the passing breeze, and a volume of beauty in each unclasping
+	flower.</p>
+
+	<p>Professor Shaw was doubling up his grotesque figure over the stones,
+	gathering garnets. With the intent look of a gold digger, or an alchymist
+	prying into his crucible, he was seeking for treasures, cracking up
+	rocks into the size of sugar-lumps, and Macadamizing all the place for
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page552" title="552">&nbsp;</a>yards round. His shadow stalked with him with colossal strides, according
+	to the declension of the sun, and the hammer in his shadowy
+	arm fell on the projection of the shadowy rocks. But not farther off
+	than where his grotesque head and slanting extremity were measured
+	on the next wall, two clowns had gee&#8217;d their oxen under a tree, and left
+	their basket of potatoes in the furrow, (w&#8212;hoy&#8212;gee, there&#8212;I tell yer
+	to gee!) for the sake of giving their undivided attention to the Professor.
+	Geology they had never heard of, beyond its application to
+	stone fence; so they considered the conduct of a man very queer indeed,
+	who was muttering to himself, and filling his pocket full of stones.
+	After a little silence, they nodded to each other with a knowing look,
+	and said with one consent, &#8216;He&#8217;s as crazy as a coot.&#8217; They approached
+	Mr. Shaw, dubiously. &#8216;See his eyes!&#8217; said they; &#8216;aint they wild?
+	Mister?&#8217; said the elder clown.</p>
+
+	<p>Shaw made no reply.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Mister, look a-here; aint you&#8212;aint you&#8212;&#8212;?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Fel-spar,&#8217; said Shaw, cabalistically.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Oh dear me! that&#8217;s enough! My dear feller, we&#8217;ve got a duty
+	to perform. I guess we know where you come from. Mister, aint
+	<span class="keep_together">you&#8212;&#8212;?&#8217;</span></p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Are you addressing me?&#8217; said Professor Shaw, mildly, looking up.
+	&#8216;Are you addressing your remarks to me, my friend?</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Wonderful cunnin&#8217;, but it wont do. &#8217;Twont sarve you; I&#8217;m a-feard
+	we shall have <span class="keep_together">to&#8212;&#8212;&#8217;</span></p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Well, Sir, my name is Shaw.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;What&#8217;s that you got onto your cane? What you doin&#8217; in Queens
+	cëounty? Do tell, aint you&#8212;&#8212;got loose from somewhar? Honor
+	bright!&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>The professor, lost in amazement, answered only by a broad stare.
+	He then bethought him that two lunatics had escaped from yonder mansion.
+	The idea satisfied his mind, and surprise gave way at once to a
+	smile, full of benevolence and pity. &#8216;My poor friends,&#8217; said he, &#8216;do go
+	back; you have surely wandered from home; do go up the hill&#8212;do
+	go up the hill.&#8217; Then stamping his foot with an air of authority, he
+	exclaimed, stretching out the hammer of his cane, &#8216;Go back to the
+	asylum, in-stan-taneously!&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;I guess the one in the loft will be long enough,&#8217; whispered the rustic;
+	&#8216;but fetch the longest of the two <em>ropes</em>, and make haste. Oh, he&#8217;s
+	stark!&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Ah! how sad!&#8217; soliloquized Professor Shaw, as both of his new
+	friends retreated, and one hurried out of sight, &#8216;how sad a spectacle!
+	the deluded, wandering mind, told by such unerring symptoms; the wild
+	eye, strange words, and fantastic pleasantness; reason hurled from her
+	own throne, and that steady light exchanged for the fitful flickering over
+	decay! They mistake me for one of their melancholy fraternity, poor
+	lunatics! whereas my lamp of life, and reason, it appears to me, never
+	shone brighter. I shall yet work out something of which my country
+	will be proud, and which shall inscribe on an enduring pedestal the
+	name of <span class="special_name">Shaw</span>.&#8217; The professor (with his hammer) split a rock. &#8216;If
+	those men come back, what had I better do with them? I will contemplate
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page553" title="553">&nbsp;</a>the remarkable phenomenon of the mind in ruins. Humanity
+	suggests to me that I ought to coax them back with sophistry as far as
+	the garden-gate, and then holler for help.&#8217; Shaw was the best hearted
+	of men; he would not hurt a human being in the world, cruel as he
+	was to bugs, and to centipedes an &#8216;outer barbarian.&#8217; In the course of
+	ten minutes he was at the base of a large rock, scooping out garnets,
+	and thinking casually of that &#8216;great work which his country would not
+	willingly let die,&#8217; when a rope was let over his head and shoulders from
+	above, and the professor was noosed. The countrymen jumped down,
+	and began to drag him from the other end, squeezing his bowels, and
+	winding him round and round, till coming to close quarters, they knocked
+	his hat off, wrested his hammer out of his hand, and seizing him by the
+	collar, almost throttled him with the knuckles of their immense fists.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="special_name">Shaw</span>. (Kicking violently.) Murder! murder! murder!</p>
+
+	<p><span class="special_name">Rustics</span>. It won&#8217;t do no good; we got yer; you may as well come
+	fust as last. You&#8217;re crazy as a coot, and wuss now than when we fus
+	see you. Your eyes shows it.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="special_name">Shaw</span>. I&#8217;ll go with you, my friends, but don&#8217;t kill me; oh! I beseech
+	you don&#8217;t kill me!</p>
+
+	<p><span class="special_name">Rustics</span>. No, we wont hurt you; only come along to the house.
+	Come along.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="special_name">Shaw</span>. Take your knuckles out of my throat, please. <em>Aside.</em> Their
+	hallucination is extreme; the symptoms of their disease have taken a
+	form the most vindictive. Yes, my friends, conduct me safe. We shall
+	soon reach the house; then all will be explained.</p>
+
+	<p>At this very hour an amusing scene was enacting among the lunatics
+	in the large hall of the asylum. One who professed magnetism was
+	trying his skill upon a subject, to the great entertainment of his fellows.
+	He was making the passes after a singular fashion, upon a docile fellow
+	who sat bolt upright in a chair with a face of the most stolid gravity.
+	Standing at a distance, he would rush up with long strides, make a wavy
+	flourish with his hands over the face of the subject, and retreat as rapidly.
+	Then with eager, swelling eyes, aiming with the fore-finger of
+	each hand, he would run up and point at some phrenological bump upon
+	the cranium. But the patient sat immovable, and was neither to be
+	soothed into slumber, nor coaxed into giving any indication that the organs
+	were excited; as is the case with the well-drilled <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">protegés</em> of your
+	itinerant lecturers.</p>
+
+	<p>Nearly all the inmates were witnesses of this scene, except a few who
+	were restricted, and one fair girl who walked in the garden sobbing;
+	and never did tears fall out of more beautiful eyes, or shed over such a
+	sweet face the interest of sorrow. They gushed profusely on the rosebud
+	in her hand; fit emblem of herself; for she had not yet broke into
+	the bloom of womanhood. Where tears flow, despair has been already
+	softened to sorrow, and smiles may yet shine out of the darkness, as the
+	bow of promise bridges only a firmament of cloud. This poor creature,
+	frightened at a disturbance at the gate, fled like a fawn to her own apartment.
+	The professor was lugged in by the head and ears, with unnecessary
+	roughness. Appearances were much against him, as he
+	always had a crazy look. His strange dress and equipments, his unshaven
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page554" title="554">&nbsp;</a>beard, his long hair straggling over his forehead, his long nose and
+	long legs, his much-abused and bunged-up hat, which yawned wide
+	open at the crown and showed the lining, wore the external tokens of a
+	mind ill at ease. Added to this, a sickly smile shed a yellow glare over
+	his features, of which the effect was neither natural nor pleasant; and
+	as the lunatics pressed around, and the clowns still clutched him by the
+	throat, even that passed away, and left an expression of bewilderment
+	and undisguised dismay. At that moment the physician arrived, and
+	glancing at the new subject just brought to the establishment, and concluding
+	that his present wildness would need some coercion at first, requested
+	him to be brought into the nearest apartment. The four formed
+	a singular group. &#8216;Sit down,&#8217; said the doctor, nodding calmly to the
+	professor, as he prepared to study the case. &#8216;Ha! ha!&#8217; exclaimed Professor
+	Shaw, dropping into a chair, and striving hard to be amused at
+	his predicament, &#8216;ha! ha! ha! My dear Sir, ha! ha! yes, I think I
+	may say ha! ha! ha!&#8217;&#8212;and he laughed so obstreperously as to set the
+	whole company in a roar. &#8216;This excursion for scientific purposes;
+	near coming to an unpleasant termination; some of your poor fellows,
+	doctor,&#8217; casting a knowing look at the clowns, &#8216;are strongly possessed
+	they brought me here against my will.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>The doctor smiled.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Let me explain all,&#8217; said Mr. Shaw, recovering breath, and speaking
+	with preternatural calmness. &#8216;Oblige me first by having those men removed.
+	Their presence disturbs me. I pity them from my lowest
+	soul; but they have&#8212;it is ridiculous&#8212;ha! ha! ha! yes, it <em>is</em> ridiculous&#8212;but
+	they have hurt me very much and disturbed my equanimity.
+	You should confine them more strictly, Sir, and not let them go at large
+	to murder strangers by the way-side.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>The doctor smiled.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;In search of relaxation, during the intervals of a great work which I
+	have in hand, having been made an honorary member of the Tinnecum
+	Association, I came here for the prosecution of scientific purposes,
+	and for the collection of botanical and mineralogical specimens,
+	which I have at present in my breeches pocket.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p><span class="special_name">Rustics</span>. He! he! he! that&#8217;s enough&#8212;see his eyes!</p>
+
+	<p><span class="special_name">Shaw</span>. (<em>Smiling.</em>) Doctor, how long have these subjects been in
+	your institution? Their insanity has not taken a very mild form.
+	Will you oblige me by removing them from the room? Indeed it hurts
+	me to see the immortal mind astray.</p>
+
+	<p>The doctor smiled.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="special_name">Shaw</span>. (<em>Enthusiastically.</em>) As I entered these doors, a most lovely
+	being shot across my path. It was but an instant; a quick light, a
+	momentary flash, and all was gone! But it was enough! I saw her!
+	I never shall forget her. Who is she? That sweet girl has impressed
+	her image on my soul!</p>
+
+	<p><span class="special_name">Doctor</span>. My friend, be calm.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="special_name">Shaw</span>. Oh, my dear Sir! understand me. I <em>am</em> calm, I <em>am</em> calm.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="special_name">Doctor</span>. Perhaps you will be so kind as to inform me where your
+	<em>friends</em> reside, and when you left them upon this journey.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;My friends!&#8217; exclaimed the professor, with a bitter sneer; &#8216;who are
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page555" title="555">&nbsp;</a>my friends? Where have I found any whose friendship was other than
+	a name? My books, my cabinet, my studies, the great work on which
+	I am now laboring&#8212;these are my friends; it is only through these
+	that I shall be raised to fame. <em lang="la" xml:lang="la">Sic itur ad astra.</em>&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p><span class="special_name">Doctor</span>. I am satisfied that we had better secure&#8212;&#8212;</p>
+
+	<p><span class="special_name">Shaw</span>. Do you want any assistance, Sir? I will willingly help you
+	to get these poor fellows to their rooms.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="special_name">Rustics</span>. He&#8217;s the cunningest we ever seen.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="special_name">Doctor</span>. Yes, he would deceive any one. Wait a minute my men.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="special_name">Shaw</span>. If you don&#8217;t need me I&#8217;ll bid you good day; I can&#8217;t stay
+	any longer.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="special_name">Doctor</span>. Oh no, we can&#8217;t let you go, in common humanity, till we
+	have communicated with your friends.</p>
+
+	<p>Professor Shaw, in the utmost alarm, attempted to plunge out of the
+	room. He was laid violent hands on by all three; his indignation boiled
+	over; he struggled most desperately, knocked down the doctor, and attempted
+	to jump out of the window, but in the end was overcome, a
+	straight-jacket put on him, the stones were taken out of his pocket, he
+	was conducted to a separate apartment, and as the shades of night fell
+	around him, he almost doubted himself whether he was in his sound
+	mind. His wits seemed to be indeed scattered. In vain he tried to collect
+	them, and to realize his present position, which was the most false
+	and unfortunate one in which he had ever been placed. He charged
+	the Devil with conspiracy. He had already sneered at the suggestion
+	of having friends; how should he be the victim and laughter of his enemies!
+	He imagined them holding their gaunt sides and shaking with a
+	spectre-like malignity. Then he thought of the fair girl whom he had
+	seen in the garden shedding tears on roses, and strove to weave a chaplet
+	of verse which should be more unfading than flowers. What a
+	strange destiny was his! The victim of untoward accidents, persecuted
+	by some evil spirit, and leading an aimless, desultory life, which he
+	yet feared would lead on to lunacy. What should he do in the present
+	instance? Be patient? Yes, he would be calm, forgiving, philosophical
+	as ever. Footsteps are approaching; the door of his cell opens;
+	perhaps it is already the token of his release. Yes, one of his own
+	townsmen enters. Alas! he owed the professor a grudge, and assured
+	the doctor that he was cracked, and begged him to hold on to him by all
+	means; he would go and inform his friends. &#8216;Ha! ha! ha!&#8217; exclaimed
+	Shaw, as the door closed; &#8216;there it is again; in luck as usual;
+	ha! ha! ha!&#8212;ha! ha! ha!&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>As it grew dark, and he lay on his pallet, a crowd of thoughts and imaginations
+	pursued him through a long sleep, and when he opened his
+	eyes to the morning light, he gazed around the strange place with astonishment,
+	and tried in vain to persuade himself that his present position
+	was not a dream.</p>
+
+	<p>In three days he was released from limbo; retracing his steps, with
+	all the bugs and specimens which he had collected. And, for those who
+	feel an interest in Professor Shaw, it may be agreeable to know, that in
+	his wanderings, having discovered in a green lane, on the margin of a
+	duck-pond, a district school in want of a pedagogue, he forthwith assumed
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page556" title="556">&nbsp;</a>the birch, and may be now seen at almost any hour of the day, in
+	the midst of his noisy populace, commanding silence, or dusting them on
+	their least honorable parts. &#8216;Tough, are you? I&#8217;ll see if I can find a
+	tender spot. Come, no bawling, or I&#8217;ll flog you till you stop. Thomas
+	Jones, take your book, and stick your nose in the c-o-rner. First division
+	may go out. First class in <span class="keep_together">geography&#8212;&#8212;&#8217;</span></p>
+
+	<p class="sign"><span class="author">F. W. S.</span></p>
+
+</div>
+<div class="article">
+	<h2 class="title">STANZAS</h2>
+	<p class="subtitle">TO THE SPIRITS OF MY THREE DEPARTED SISTERS.</p>
+	<p class="subtitle">WRITTEN AT MID-WINTER.</p>
+
+	<div class="poem">
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p><span class="first_word">Sweet</span> sisters! ye have passed away,</p>
+			<p class="i2">In solemn silence one by one,</p>
+			<p>And left a brother here to stray,</p>
+			<p class="i2">In doubt and darkness&#8212;and alone!</p>
+			<p>For like three lamps of holy flame,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Ye shone upon my weary way,</p>
+			<p>Till a chill breath from heaven came,</p>
+			<p class="i2">And quenched for aye the kindly ray.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>Where are ye now?&#8212;where are ye now?</p>
+			<p class="i2">Those loving hearts and spirits, where!</p>
+			<p>O&#8217;er three new graves in grief I bow,</p>
+			<p class="i2">But ye are gone&#8212;ye are not there!</p>
+			<p>The winds that sigh while wandering by,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Curl the bright snow in many a wreath,</p>
+			<p>And sing in mournful melody,</p>
+			<p class="i2">O&#8217;er the cold dust that sleeps beneath.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>The birds that sang when ye were here,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Are singing in another clime;</p>
+			<p>Have left the hedge and forest sere,</p>
+			<p class="i2">And gone where all is summer-time.</p>
+			<p>The frail bright flowers that bloom&#8217;d around,</p>
+			<p class="i2">When ye were blooming bright as they,</p>
+			<p>Lie crushed and withered on the ground,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Their fragrance heavenward passed away.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>And ye are gone where genial skies</p>
+			<p class="i2">And radiant suns eternal shine,</p>
+			<p>Where peaceful songs forever rise,</p>
+			<p class="i2">From saintly tongues and lips divine.</p>
+			<p>And like the flowers whose sweet perfume</p>
+			<p class="i2">Has left the soil and risen above,</p>
+			<p>Has risen from your silent tomb</p>
+			<p class="i2">The holy fragrance of your love.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>But often when the silver beams</p>
+			<p class="i2">Of the pale stars are on my bed,</p>
+			<p>Ye come among my sweetest dreams,</p>
+			<p class="i2">And bend in silence o&#8217;er my head;</p>
+			<p>And throngs of bright imaginings</p>
+			<p class="i2">Float round and o&#8217;er me till the dawn;</p>
+			<p>I hear the fluttering of wings!</p>
+			<p class="i2">I start&#8212;I wake! but ye are gone.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p><a class="pagenum" id="page557" title="557">&nbsp;</a>Oh! I am sad; yet still the thought</p>
+			<p class="i2">That when this tired though willing hand</p>
+			<p>Its earthly destiny hath wrought,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Ye wait me in that distant land,</p>
+			<p>And that ye long to have me there,</p>
+			<p class="i2">More that I pine your absence here,</p>
+			<p>Shall heal the touch of every care</p>
+			<p class="i2">And quench the sting of every fear.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>No marble stands with towering shaft</p>
+			<p class="i2">To catch the stranger&#8217;s curious eye;</p>
+			<p>No tablet graved with flattering craft,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Tells where your silent ashes lie;</p>
+			<p>But there is one secluded spot</p>
+			<p class="i2">In the deep shadows of my soul,</p>
+			<p>Where stranger foot intrudeth not,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Nor winter&#8217;s wanton tempests roll.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>And there in Friendship&#8217;s burial-ground</p>
+			<p class="i2">The willow of remembrance bends,</p>
+			<p>And ye my sisters there have found</p>
+			<p class="i2">A home among my choicest friends;</p>
+			<p>And modelled with etherial grace,</p>
+			<p class="i2">The form of <span class="special_name">Hope</span> with heavenward eyes,</p>
+			<p>Stands calmly on your burial-place,</p>
+			<p class="i2">And points her finger to the skies.</p>
+		</div>
+	</div>
+
+	<p class="sign"><span class="author">I. G. Holland.</span></p>
+
+</div>
+<div class="article">
+	<h2 class="title">AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF THE PRAIRIE HERMIT.</h2>
+
+	<p class="byline">EDITED BY PETER VON GEIST.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="first_word">It</span> happened on the twenty-seventh day of July, in the year of our
+	Lord one thousand eight hundred and forty-two, that I, <span class="special_name">Peter Von
+	Geist</span>, found myself, in the natural course of events, journeying on
+	horse-back along the northern bank of the Ohio river, in the state of Illinois.
+	The space between me and the house where I designed to stop,
+	and the time between then and sun-down, were somewhat disproportionate;
+	so I pricked gallantly forward; as gallantly at least as could
+	be expected from a tired horse, and a knight whose recreant thoughts
+	were intensely fixed on dollars and cents, supper, and other trifling
+	affairs. By dint however of much patience in the steed, and much impatience
+	in the rider, we got over the ground, and approached a house
+	that had been in sight for some distance.</p>
+
+	<p>It was placed on the summit of a steep, conical hill; there was no
+	smoke from its chimney, or voices to be heard, or persons to be seen, or
+	other signs of life, in its precincts. The grass grew high and green all
+	around the hillock, and there was no road, not even a foot-path, visible
+	on its side. Nevertheless, I dismounted, left my horse to improve the
+	opportunity of snatching a light repast on the abundant herbage, and
+	forced my way up to the top of the knoll.</p>
+
+	<p>The building was constructed in the rude fashion of the country; but
+	the chinking had fallen out from between the logs; the chimney had
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page558" title="558">&nbsp;</a>partly tumbled down; tall weeds sprung up between the stones of the
+	door-steps; the door itself was fastened with a huge padlock; the windows
+	were nearly all beaten in, and every thing about it gave evidence
+	that it had not been inhabited for several years. The summit of the
+	hill was smooth and level. A few stumps grew around the edge; and
+	the ground seemed to have been, at some former time, a garden.</p>
+
+	<p>The situation was exceedingly fine, and the view on all sides very
+	beautiful. The eminence commanded on one hand three or four miles
+	of the river, and on the other an unlimited tract of prairie. At the
+	particular moment when I first visited it, the level sun-light came glancing
+	over the face of flood and field, tinging every thing that it touched
+	with its own mellow hue, and casting gigantic and ill-defined shadows
+	of the hill, the house, and myself, on the plain beyond. At the distance
+	of a mile and a half below, stood a couple of one-story houses, the logs
+	of which they were built newly hewed, evidently of recent construction.
+	The inhabitants of this old building, then, must have stood where I am
+	standing, and gazed over the vast extent of country that is spread out
+	before me, without meeting a single habitation of man, or any thing
+	having life, except perhaps a wolf or a buffalo. And it could not have
+	been desire of wealth that induced a family of refinement and taste,
+	such as the little decorations and ornaments show that this was, to select
+	this solitude for their home; for not more than an acre of land, at the
+	foot of the hill, had ever been invaded by the plough.</p>
+
+	<p>There were several circumstances like these, that were unusual and
+	unaccountable; but not being in a mood just then to be much perplexed
+	about it, I descended the knoll, remounted, and hurried on towards
+	the more hospitable dwellings below.</p>
+
+	<p>Of course, the traveller was received with a welcome, and his bodily
+	wants speedily and abundantly cared for. After this most important
+	duty had been satisfactorily performed, and quietude of spirit consequent
+	thereon was restored to my breast, it chanced that the host and his blue-eyed,
+	golden-haired, neatly-dressed, smiling-faced, half-matron, and
+	half-girlish young wife, who had lately set up business on their own
+	account, and I, seated ourselves without the door, to feel the cool air of
+	the evening. It chanced too that the door faced the east; and the old
+	house towered up darkly in the distance before us. In answer to my
+	inquiries, they were able to give but little information concerning it,
+	and that chiefly derived from others.</p>
+
+	<p>It appeared that there was on the other side of the river, and a little
+	lower down, a small settlement. It had stood there from time immemorial;
+	at least, the memory of the tidy little wife did not run to the contrary,
+	and she had received her birth and education there, and ought to
+	know. She remembered, one of the first things that she could remember,
+	a middle-aged gentleman, in a black hat and coat, who used to row
+	over the river from the other shore in a small skiff, and walk into her
+	father&#8217;s store to make his purchases, with a grave, but not cold or forbidding
+	face, and used to pat her on the head, with such a fatherly smile,
+	and say a few words in such a kind tone, as to fill her little breast quite
+	full with delight. She remembered more distinctly, a few years later,
+	how this same gentleman used to come into the settlement as often as
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page559" title="559">&nbsp;</a>once-a-week, and how glad every one appeared to meet him and shake
+	hands with him. The villagers seemed to repose unlimited confidence
+	in him. The moment he landed, half-a-dozen were ready to ask his
+	advice, or to show him papers, to see if all were correctly done. He
+	was the umpire in all differences and quarrels, and seldom failed to send
+	away the disputants at peace with each other. If there was a wedding,
+	he of course must be present. On May-day, when the boys and girls
+	went out into the woods to romp, and afterward to sit down to a rustic
+	pic-nic, he was sure to walk into their midst, just at the right moment,
+	bearing in his hand a wreath of flowers, so beautiful, and so tastefully
+	made, that all the girls cried when at length it fell to pieces; and he
+	would place it on the head of the Queen of May with such a gentle,
+	sweet little speech, that she would blush up to the tips of her ears, and
+	all her subjects would clap their hands and laugh out with pleasure.</p>
+
+	<p>At Christmas parties his place was never empty; and while he was
+	there, mirth never flagged. Perhaps their sports were not so boisterous
+	as they would have been if he had not been a spectator; but they were
+	quite as pleasant at the time, and a great deal pleasanter when looked
+	back upon from the next day. He used to sit in one corner, by the
+	huge, roaring fire, and look on, apparently as much interested as they
+	themselves were. Nothing went amiss; and there was never wanting
+	some slight, good-natured remark or act, to rectify mistakes and set
+	them all going again.</p>
+
+	<p>But much as he was loved by the villagers, he was no less respected.
+	They did not even know his name. Many would have been glad to,
+	and wearied themselves by indirect methods to find it out. But as no
+	one had courage to ask him, and as it never happened to fall from him
+	incidentally, they remained in the dark about it. He was known and
+	addressed however, by the appellation of &#8216;the Lawyer,&#8217; as their conversation
+	with him was chiefly asking his advice on points of law too knotty
+	for them, which he freely gave. He affected no mystery or reserve;
+	yet there was something in his bearing, affable and unaristocratic as it
+	was, that caused those very men&#8212;who, if the governor of the state had
+	come among them, would have slapped him on the back, and offered him
+	a glass of liquor&#8212;to rise in his presence and approach him with respect.</p>
+
+	<p>My bright-eyed informant, with her musical voice, recollected, a good
+	while ago, when she was about ten years old, and he had become gray
+	and wrinkled&#8212;though he never needed a staff, nor was his eye
+	dim&#8212;that he rowed over one spring afternoon, and requested the men
+	to leave their work for a few minutes, and hear something that he had
+	to say to them. Accordingly, they collected &#8216;considerable of a little
+	crowd&#8217; around her father&#8217;s store. The lawyer stood in the door, while
+	she made her way through the throng and sat down on the door-step, at
+	his feet. She did not remember all that he said; only that he talked to
+	them for about half an hour, in a calm, conversational tone, on the
+	importance of building school-houses and educating their children.
+	They seemed to be much pleased with what he said; and after another
+	half hour&#8217;s free discussion, the whole village turned out, and went to
+	work felling trees and hewing timber; and in the course of a few days
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page560" title="560">&nbsp;</a>a substantial school-house was erected. From that time forth, she and
+	all her brothers and sisters, and all her play-mates, at stated hours and
+	seasons, were rigidly imprisoned therein, and diligently instructed in the
+	rudiments of science.</p>
+
+	<p>About this time, she and a brother who was about two years older
+	embarked on a voyage of discovery. They pulled up the river, at least
+	he did, for she only held the rudder, two miles, till they come in sight
+	of the residence of the Great Unknown. There stood the old house, as
+	she had often gazed at it with wondering eyes from the opposite bank,
+	just as grim, and dark, and gloomy. It had been their intention to make
+	an open descent upon it, and boldly beat up the premises. But now, the
+	building was so silent, and deserted, and frowning, their hearts failed
+	them, and they crept cautiously along up the southern shore till they
+	were concealed by a bend in the river; then striking across, they floated
+	down, by accident as it were, close under the northern bank. When
+	they arrived under the hill, on the top of which the object of their curiosity
+	was placed, they looked anxiously up at it; but every thing was
+	as silent as the grave. Seeing it thus unguarded, they took courage,
+	ran the skiff ashore, and prepared to land. But when on the point of
+	stepping on the beach, the door of the house opened, the man himself
+	walked out therefrom and advanced to the brow of the eminence. There
+	he stood; black all over, except his face, which at that instant appeared
+	to wear a peculiarly terrible and ferocious aspect. The children were
+	frightened, and hastily shoved off their little cockle-boat. But the man
+	came down to the edge of the water, and called them by name to return.
+	<em>She</em> thought how far off home was, and no one near to afford assistance
+	in case of need; and when she thought, she would have been glad to
+	have retreated as fast as possible; but her brother was commander of
+	the expedition, and without more words he pushed back to land.</p>
+
+	<p>They went ashore, neither of them altogether devoid of fear and
+	trembling, and sat down on the grassy bank, by the side of their venerable
+	friend. He soon talked away their timidity; and seemed so mild
+	and affectionate, that in a few minutes they were chatting and laughing
+	as merrily as ever children could. He showed them his garden, his
+	trees, and flowers, and fruits. He gave them a little basket, which
+	they filled with strawberries, some of which he squeezed between his
+	fingers and rubbed on her cheeks, to see he said, if they could be made
+	any redder. In fine, he amused them so much with his stories, and
+	was so pleasant and kind, that they fell more than ever in love with
+	him; and after promising a dozen times to come and see him every
+	week while it was summer, they returned gaily home.</p>
+
+	<p>But the old man died at last. The children went up one sunshiny
+	morning to pay him a visit, and found the house all still, and the door
+	locked. They knocked and knocked, but no one answered. They
+	peeped in at the window and saw him stretched at length on the bed,
+	fully dressed, with a handkerchief over his face, and his gray hair lying
+	dishevelled on the pillow. They called to him; but still there was no
+	answer. Then they became alarmed, and hurried home. Some men
+	came up, broke open the door, and found him dead. Without sickness,
+	or premonition of any kind, he had calmly passed away.</p>
+
+	<p><a class="pagenum" id="page561" title="561">&nbsp;</a>They dug his grave by the side of the cottage, and laid him in it,
+	with his feet to the east and his head to the west; and left him to rest
+	there, unknown and unnamed in death, as he had been in life. The
+	whole village, men, and women, and children, mourned for him many
+	days. But when the days of lamentation were ended, and they saw his
+	face no more, though their grief abated, his memory did not, and has not
+	yet passed from their hearts.</p>
+
+	<p>I observed the voice of my hostess to falter more than once, while
+	telling this simple and dream-like story of her childhood. I could see
+	by the night-lights too that her bright eyes sometimes became brighter
+	and sometimes dimmer; both of which circumstances made it only the
+	more pleasant for me to sit and listen to her words.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;There were no letters,&#8217; she said, found in his possession from which
+	they could learn his name. There were no writings of any kind, except
+	a bundle of old papers, which she had looked into, but they seemed
+	to be only disconnected thoughts and memoranda of events and feelings,
+	and threw no light on his history. At my request she produced a lamp
+	and spread out the papers on the table. I turned over the worn and
+	time-stained manuscripts; but the leaves were loose, unnumbered, and
+	put together at random, and it was some time before I could find a place
+	to begin at.</p>
+
+	<p>At length, however, I managed to bring a few sheets in juxtaposition,
+	such, that with a little stretch of the imagination I could discern a
+	slight connection between them. And thus, by dim lamp-light, alone,
+	with the silence of night around, and the old house lifting up its dark
+	and shadowy form in the distance, I read some of the old man&#8217;s papers.</p>
+
+	<p>Those which I read I took the liberty of putting into my portmanteau,
+	arguing that though they might be of no use to me, they certainly would
+	be of none to their present possessors. Some of these papers having
+	appeared in the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>, and met with &#8216;acceptance bounteous,&#8217;
+	I am induced to transcribe for the edification of the reader, a portion of
+	the autobiography of the writer. It is contained in the last chapter, or
+	sheet, and is written in a different and more aged hand than the rest;
+	and gives the &#8216;moving why&#8217; of the old man, in isolating himself from his
+	kind, in one of the great green deserts of the West, &#8216;for which the
+	speech of England hath no name.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<h3 class="subtitle">A DREAM OF YOUTH.</h3>
+
+	<p><span class="first_word">Sixty</span> years old! Many sorrows, many storms encountered, both
+	within and without, and much journeying along the road of life, have
+	left their traces on my features and on my head; but I am thankful
+	that they have not touched my heart. I live alone, but not solitary;
+	for I hold daily communion with the absent and beloved; communion
+	also, sad but sweet, with the departed. The forms of those once hated
+	too, are ready to rise up at my bidding; but they are never summoned.
+	For I wish all within me to be gentleness and repose; and it ill becomes
+	me on this my last failing foothold on the verge of the grave, to allow
+	thoughts of hatred to stir up the turbid waters of bitterness which have
+	been slumbering so many years in my heart.</p>
+
+	<p><a class="pagenum" id="page562" title="562">&nbsp;</a>So I stand up here calmly at the end of my journey, and look back
+	on the path which I have trodden. And what a path! Far back it runs,
+	growing fainter and narrower, till I lose sight of it, an indistinct line,
+	in the distance. I shall not say how many steep hills it crosses, where
+	it might better have kept in the plains; how many deviations it makes
+	from a straight course, apparently for the sole purpose of wandering
+	through difficult places; or how often it runs along over burning sandy
+	deserts, parallel with, and but a few steps from, the verge of a cool and
+	pleasant meadow. I shall say nothing of this; for of the million of
+	paths that intersect this vast plain of Life, there is probably not one
+	which, when the traveller looks back upon it, does not like mine seem
+	marked out by the veriest caprice of chance. Each one gropes its way
+	along, like the crooked track of a blind man; and when it would appear
+	the easier and almost the only way to keep on up the gentle eminence,
+	whereon might have been found renown and happiness, by that same
+	constant fatality, it suddenly turns short off to one side, plunges down
+	into the rocky ravine, and pants on, for many a weary mile. That man
+	shapes not his own ends, is a truth which I felt long since, and which
+	each day&#8217;s experience brings home to me with the freshness of a new
+	discovery. It is a truth which rises up and mocks us, when we sit
+	down to calculate or plan for the future; and it almost staggers our
+	confidence in the connection between human means and the desired
+	result.</p>
+
+	<p>But what a path! Proceeding out of the darkness of morning, it
+	struggles through a brief day, sometimes in sunshine, and sometimes in
+	shade, and ends in the darkness of night. I glance along it, and the
+	care-worn faces of the companions of my manhood rise up, on either
+	side, and farther back, the speaking countenances of the friends of
+	my youth. It is but a narrow space, the land of Youth, and soon passed;
+	but pleasant, and full of images of beauty. The sun is not so bright
+	and hot upon it as on some other parts of the path; but we do not expect
+	happiness in the garish light of mid-day and reality. The mellowness
+	of a summer evening sunset lays on it, and thereby it becomes a
+	faëry land, a land of bliss and dreams. How throng up, as I gaze, the
+	forms of those early and best-loved friends! How distinct and life-like,
+	even at this distance, are their characters and features! They are all
+	there; not one name has been erased, and not one picture dimmed, on
+	the tablet of memory. The same warm smile of kindling pleasure
+	greets me; the same hands are thrown out, as if to touch my own; and
+	those bright eyes grow brighter as they are turned toward me.</p>
+
+	<p>It is with such companions that I spend the last days of my earthly
+	pilgrimage; and thus, as I said before, though alone I am not solitary.
+	Is not such companionship sweet? When they visit me, I throw off old
+	age, as a garment. Smiling thoughts come gently over me, and life
+	and happiness, as of wont, course like the mad blood of fever through
+	my veins. I feel over again those old feelings, repass through those
+	same scenes, and my heart beats faster or grows pale in the same places
+	and in the same manner as it once did. The old fields and houses and
+	roads come up too, clothed at my command, in the snows of winter, or
+	in the beauty of summer. Old scenes, but still fresh and young; and
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page563" title="563">&nbsp;</a>I am sometimes tempted to believe that the intervening years have been
+	the illusion of a dream, and that I am awakening in their midst.</p>
+
+	<p>All this, some will say, is the weakness of age. It seems to me to
+	be rather its strength. The future in life is nothing; and what is the
+	bare present to any one? The past, then, alone is left me. And if
+	by living in it I can keep my affections alive, instead of letting their
+	fires, according to the course of nature, or rather of custom, die down
+	into cold ashes, I do not call myself weak if I do as much as possible
+	forget the present.</p>
+
+	<p>I had, when I was young, many dreams; such as I dare say all have.
+	They seem such to me now, only not at all shadowy. On the contrary,
+	they become more and more like reality as my distance from them
+	increases, while their hues are as well marked and distinct as ever.
+	Many and bright; but the brightest of all, the dream of my youth, is
+	that which flashes across my recollection, when there comes into my
+	heart the thought of my cousin Jane!</p>
+
+	<p>My cousin <span class="special_name">Jane</span>! Her form comes up before me, light and elastic
+	and joyous, as though summoned for the first time, and as though it had
+	not been my daily visitor for many a long year. Time writes no
+	wrinkle on thy snowy brow, my first love! That glad smile knows
+	no weariness, and I know no weariness in gazing on it. Those deep
+	eyes, full of feeling; those soft words that thrill; I see and hear and
+	feel them now, as I saw and heard and felt them first. Wilt thou never
+	be tired of looking up to me, with that sweet, timid, confiding, tearful
+	glance? Will the rising flush of thy cheek and thy subdued smile, be
+	always fresh as now, and as in that hour when first we met? Thou
+	hast been my companion, my unmurmuring, ever-present, unchanging
+	companion, through many a dark time and stormy scene; and thou and
+	the heart in which thou livest will die together.</p>
+
+	<p>We met, my cousin Jane and I, when she was just putting on womanhood;
+	had begun to find out the depths of her own heart, to doubt
+	whether those depths ever could be filled, and to feel that unless they
+	were, life would be but a blank. Not that there were not many willing
+	enough to love her and be loved; the beauty of her form and character
+	drew around her a crowd of admirers. But among them all, her nice
+	perception saw that there was not one, of whom the exterior did not
+	form by far the largest part of the man. Her admirers were good,
+	honorable men; she respected and esteemed them; but still, gentle and
+	timid and humble as she was, without knowing why, she felt that there
+	was an impassable gulf between her and them. Their thoughts were
+	not like her thoughts. Her social disposition led her much into their
+	way, and though she tried to avoid it, she was told more than once, that
+	the happiness or misery of her devoted lover depended on her smiles.
+	It was a painful situation for one of her retiring and benevolent disposition,
+	to be sure; and it is doubtful to which of the two, the lover or the
+	mistress, every such rejection caused the keenest pang.</p>
+
+	<p>But this was not the end of it. Malice soon prefixed to her name
+	the epithet scornful; and among her school-girl friends there were
+	some who always passed by on the other side. Poor girl! She wept
+	bitter tears over these sneers and slights, for she had not studied the
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page564" title="564">&nbsp;</a>world enough to learn and despise its despicable things. Even then,
+	dear girl! too, she tried to love all the world, that is, all her native
+	village. And she succeeded, at least far enough to forgive them all,
+	and thus to feel her own mind at peace and resigned. But there was a
+	tinge of sadness left on her Grecian face after all; for to the young,
+	when the out-stretched hand of kindly feeling is coldly put aside, the
+	grief is as great as though the repulse were deserved.</p>
+
+	<p>And I&#8212;I hardly know what I was, when I first saw my cousin. I
+	was without father or mother; the world seemed wide and rather
+	cheerless; and there was a settled impression on my mind, that it was
+	my business to glide along through life, calmly and noiselessly; attach
+	my affections to no external object; exist without being the cause of
+	joy, and die without being the cause of tears, to any human being. I
+	came and took up my abode in the pleasant village where my uncle
+	resided, and set down to gain some knowledge of that noble science,
+	civil law. I took up the study, not because I had any intention of engaging
+	in the active duties of the profession, but for the name&#8217;s sake,
+	and because I loved it for itself. My uncle, he was a kind, good man,
+	showed himself a father to me, took me into his family, tried to encourage
+	and rouse me; and for his kindness, though it failed of its end, he
+	had at the time, and has always had, my sincere though unexpressed
+	thanks.</p>
+
+	<p>I had hardly become acquainted with my relatives, uncle, aunt, and
+	their three children, when I entered my office, shut the door, and immersed
+	myself in books and my own thoughts. That those thoughts
+	were not of the most joyous nature, I need hardly say. Still, looking
+	back to that period, from where I stand now, I cannot say they were
+	misanthropic. If I did not love all my species, it was because I saw
+	nothing lovely in any body; but I did not hate them. I felt that I was
+	an insignificant, an unnoticeable drop in the great world; that it was
+	my misfortune to be so constituted as to be incapable of uniting closely
+	and mingling with other drops; and that, without offending my neighbors,
+	it would be my duty and pleasure to keep myself distinct from the
+	rest, and hidden in some obscure corner. In one word, the prevailing
+	feeling was, that nobody cared for me, and I cared for nobody.</p>
+
+	<p>And yet, strange as it may appear, I was far from being unhappy.
+	Sometimes, it is true, my in-turned thoughts became weary, and pined
+	for human fellowship; and I grew sick at heart, as I contemplated the
+	future, a vast, dry, waste, desolate desert of parched sand, over which
+	I must toil and thirst, without one single being to speak a word of kindness,
+	or give me a drop of water. But these were fits, fits of wildness,
+	I called them, and seldom lasted long. And when they came over me,
+	one attempt to link my sympathies with others was always sufficient
+	to throw me back into a state of mind harder and colder than before.
+	For it was so fated, that all my overtures, and they were not many,
+	were met with open repulse or wary suspicion. It is true, suspicion is
+	a necessary ingredient in human character; but I did not think of this
+	then, and so it had the same effect as though I had found, indeed I
+	thought I <em>had</em> found, that coldness and insensibility were the prominent
+	characteristics of the race.</p>
+
+	<p><a class="pagenum" id="page565" title="565">&nbsp;</a>And yet, as I said before, I was not unhappy. If there was no happiness,
+	there was at least no unhappiness, in sitting down for hours, and
+	brooding over my own idiosyncrasies. It made me proud, to see and
+	despise the weakness of others; and it gave me stern joy, to walk about
+	and feel that there was a kind of armed neutrality between them and
+	me. By degrees there arose, also, a gloomy pleasure in dwelling on,
+	and picturing in deeper colors, the failings and baseness of my neighbors.
+	Humble and weak as I knew myself to be, I exulted in my
+	strength, because there were some still more weak and humble. Far
+	back as my recollection ran, there had never been any thing in the
+	world that seemed to me worthy of very much exertion or toil to obtain;
+	but now I first learned to despise others for possessing feeble energies,
+	as well as for directing them to the attainment of little objects. I am
+	afraid, if left to myself, I should have hardened into a genuine hater;
+	but I was not left to myself.</p>
+
+	<p>I have mentioned my uncle&#8217;s kindness; his whole family were not
+	less kind. My cousin Jane, especially, saw that I was silent, and fancied
+	that I was unhappy, and tried, by a thousand little devices and arts,
+	to lull me into forgetfulness of myself, and entice me into a more
+	sociable frame of mind. I will not say that I was insensible to her
+	enticements; I rather liked her, she was so gentle and mild and considerate.
+	There was an air of truth and simplicity about her; she
+	would sit herself down so cheerfully to amuse me, and there was such
+	a sparkle in her blue eyes when, as she said, I condescended to interest
+	myself in her little affairs, that I began, at length, to love to be with
+	her. But proud as I was, when I viewed mankind at a distance, I no
+	sooner came in contact with any one, who was not immeasurably beneath
+	me, than I felt myself sinking immeasurably beneath him; and
+	so, like a fool as I was, I fancied that all my cousin&#8217;s kindness was the
+	result of her sense of duty to her relation; or, what was worse, of pity
+	for his moroseness. This faint suspicion became, in a little while, a
+	strong certainty; and I confined myself more closely to my books, and
+	looked into my cousin&#8217;s guileless, enthusiastic face, with coldness.</p>
+
+	<p>I had known her now a year, and yet I hardly knew her at all; for
+	I had seen her scarcely ever, except when it was impossible to avoid it,
+	and those occasions were not frequent or long enough to enable me to
+	learn perfectly her mind and character. From every such meeting, I
+	went away resolved to see her no more in future; which resolution was
+	sure to be overruled by second and more bitter thoughts. How I lived
+	during that year, I scarcely know; or how it was that I grew uneasy
+	away from her, and frequently surprised myself courting her society.
+	But as time rolled on, so it was. There was a fascination about her,
+	the magic of which was, that it charmed to sleep my vigilant suspicion.
+	I did not perceive any change in myself, when night after night I was
+	with her, talking to her about poetry, beauty, love, and the thousand
+	themes that interest the unrestrained youthful heart; or that I was different
+	from what I used to be, when I listened to her, with a gush of
+	pleasure, as she spoke at once with lips and eyes, and in speaking, disclosed
+	the unimagined riches of her mind and heart. So gradual was
+	the change, that I was wholly unaware of it.</p>
+
+	<p><a class="pagenum" id="page566" title="566">&nbsp;</a>But of one thing I was aware; the face of nature and of man underwent
+	a strange and sudden change in appearance. I looked into the
+	face of my neighbor, and lo, he was my brother! The fire of benevolence
+	and sympathy warmed every vein, and a new life animated every
+	nerve within me. I felt no longer that I was alone, but that indissoluble
+	cords bound me to the whole human family, to every being in whose
+	nostrils was the breath of life; and that for his good, as well as for my
+	own, it was my business to labor. New motives of action, (or rather
+	motives of action, for there were none before,) were set before me; and
+	I felt light of heart and wing; eager to bound forward and lend the
+	strength of my arm to the cause of the race. The face of nature too
+	was altered. Every part that came within the range of my vision, her
+	seasons, her vestments in winter and summer, her sunshine and clouds,
+	each one was a melody, and all together made harmony. Still, I was
+	scarcely sensible that I was different from what I was a year ago; for
+	at each period I felt that I was in my natural and proper state of mind.
+	So slight are the influences necessary to turn the young heart into the
+	permanent channel of selfishness, hatred and unhappiness, or into that
+	of love and peace!</p>
+
+	<p>It was not long before I found out that I loved my cousin Jane. How
+	I first discovered it I do not remember; but I do remember a firm and
+	abiding resolution, even then, that I would not love her. I sat down by
+	her side, I listened to her music, with that distinct impression. I would
+	not for the world have had any body suspect my feelings, because I was
+	ashamed of the weakness. I had persuaded myself, and could not convince
+	myself to the contrary, that there was no hope of her returning
+	my passion. And yet, with the words on my lips, &#8216;This is folly&#8212;I will
+	not!&#8217; I yielded myself to the delicious current, forgot all the world and
+	myself, and in the intoxication of the hour, saw visions and dreamed
+	dreams.</p>
+
+	<p>But there came a shock; one which awoke me from a trance like
+	that of the Opium-eater. It was when I saw that my cousin&#8217;s smiles
+	and attentions were not all devoted to me. There was another, a young
+	man of promise and expectations, a year or two my senior, and far
+	beyond me in the graces and polish of society, who had lately become
+	intimate in my uncle&#8217;s family. Engaged in the same pursuits, and
+	being much with him, I had rather liked him; in fact I liked him very
+	much. He had seen, admired, and in less than six months, <em>loved</em> my
+	Cousin Jane: this I knew, for jealousy is keen-eyed. You will not
+	wonder then that I hated him; not on his own account&#8212;alter his feelings
+	toward her, and I should have felt toward him as before; but on
+	account of his love&#8212;hated him with a deadly hatred.</p>
+
+	<p>It would be useless to tell how often I have sat down and watched
+	them, when my cousin&#8217;s sensitive countenance would brighten at his
+	bright thoughts, or burst forth into a merry laugh at his brilliant wit
+	and ready repartee; or how often the iron has entered into my soul when
+	I have seen her hang on his arm, and listen in breathless attention to
+	his lightest word, and testify in a thousand ways her pleasure at his
+	coming, and in his presence. And <em>he</em>, he looked on me with the most
+	immovable indifference. He did not seem to consider me worthy of his
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page567" title="567">&nbsp;</a>attention; even as a rival. He went straight forward, calmly and quietly,
+	as though I had not existed; and if he ever glanced at my pretensions,
+	it was perhaps with a smile of confident success. I knew he
+	loved her; I fancied that she loved him, and I hated them both for it.</p>
+
+	<p>I went into my office one day&#8212;if it were not part of the dream I
+	would not tell it&#8212;in a state of partial insanity. I knew, saw, heard,
+	felt nothing but one unalterable purpose of revenge. There happened
+	to be a small pistol lying in the back room; I took it up, and carefully
+	loaded it; loaded it without the tremor of a single muscle, for my heart
+	was lead. I put it into my pocket, and walked the streets up and down,
+	an hour or two, or it may have been four hours. I did not take count
+	of the time. The heavens reeled above me, and the earth reeled beneath.
+	At last he came. A thrill, the first that day, a thrill of triumph ran
+	through my whole frame. When we met I stopped and took hold of
+	the pistol in my pocket, but had not power to draw my hand out again;
+	the strings of volition seemed broken. He stopped also; looked at me
+	in some surprise; made a remark that I &#8216;did not appear to be well,&#8217; and
+	passed on. I looked after him, sick at heart with revenge deferred, and
+	cursed my own pusillanimity.</p>
+
+	<p>Well, well, we will let that pass. I had yielded my soul to the Author
+	of Hatred for a time; but we will let it pass, and strive to forget
+	it; I have been trying to ever since; I hope I shall succeed better in
+	future. It is pleasant if we can think that the results of our evil passions
+	do not extend beyond ourselves; and to me, it is pleasant to think
+	that I did not break my gentle cousin&#8217;s heart, by letting her know that
+	she had nearly driven me mad.</p>
+
+	<p>It was a month after this. How the intervening time had been
+	spent, in what thoughts, and hopes, and fears, it would not be profitable
+	to tell, or to recollect. I was sitting one evening by my cousin&#8217;s
+	side; it was growing late, and we were alone. I had been heated, as
+	though with wine, and had probably talked incoherently. The conversation
+	turned on that never-failing theme, love. She delighted to hear me
+	speak on that subject; she said I spoke eloquently. If eloquence consists
+	in earnestness, no doubt I did. It began in sportiveness, but before
+	long became deeply serious and interesting.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;And you do not believe, my grave cousin,&#8217; said she, in her own half-jesting,
+	wholly earnest way, &#8216;that a woman can love as deeply and long
+	as the man who loves her?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Bah!&#8217; said I, bitterly, &#8216;women sometimes, like men, are revengeful,
+	proud, or ambitious, but it is on a smaller scale. Every thing about
+	them, every feeling and impulse is on a small scale. Very good objects
+	they make for men to love; because, when one <em>will</em> be such a fool, it
+	doesn&#8217;t much matter where he places his affection.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>The poor girl looked grieved, but responded with a semblance of
+	gaiety nevertheless: &#8216;Ah, you think so now, but you will be just such a
+	fool yourself, one of these days; and then you will find out that it is
+	necessary for a woman to have a soul; and more than that&#8212;that she
+	has one.&#8217;               </p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Much obliged for your flattering opinion,&#8217; said I. &#8216;But see here,
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page568" title="568">&nbsp;</a>my bonny Jane, did it never enter into your innocent little heart to
+	think how <em>you</em> would love?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Oh yes,&#8217; she answered quickly; &#8216;but that is all guess-work. I
+	don&#8217;t know, because I haven&#8217;t yet found a man to my taste.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Of course I knew that I could not be to her taste; but a plain man
+	does not like to be told that he is ugly, though he may be perfectly
+	conscious of the fact. And so this avowal, which was made with the
+	most unthinking honesty and simplicity, while it added weight to my
+	despair, by a very usual consequence, made me desperate.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;You are certain,&#8217; I asked, after a pause, &#8216;that you do not know what
+	love is by experience?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Perfectly,&#8217; she answered, half laughing.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;And that you mean to know, some time?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;To be sure,&#8217; said she, &#8216;when the right man and the right time come.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;I do not know,&#8217; said I, beginning slowly and calmly; but before the
+	sentence was half completed, my voice and thoughts had escaped from
+	under my control; &#8216;I do not know who the right man for you may be,
+	but I&#8212;<em>I</em> love you&#8212;love you&#8212;love you!&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>She looked at me for a few seconds, with a countenance filled with
+	astonishment, not unmingled with alarm. She would have thought it a
+	jest; but my manner probably convinced her that I was far from
+	jesting. She tried to smile, but it was a painful effort, and she found
+	it much easier to conceal her face in her hands and weep.</p>
+
+	<p>My recollection of the subsequent events of that evening is extremely
+	dim. There was a confused crowd of flying thoughts; many tears and
+	much friendship on one side, and much love on the other. She had
+	received me as I knew she would, and though by the confession there
+	was a great weight removed from my breast, the anguish was not less
+	intense. One thing, however, among the hurried occurrences of that
+	hour, I did not lose sight of, and that was pride. She did not suspect
+	at the time how much of my heart, not to say existence, was bound up
+	in her, or how greatly both were affected by her answer.</p>
+
+	<p>The closing scene of the interview is the one which I most love to
+	remember. We were standing at the door, her hand in mine, a mournful
+	smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye. That bright, gentle face
+	was pale with sorrow, and pity, and pain, and above all with fear. I
+	gazed on it a moment, but in that moment the picture was graven
+	indelibly on my memory. The &#8216;good night&#8217; was spoken; and that is
+	the last time I ever saw my cousin Jane.</p>
+
+	<p>The next morning I sat down at an inn by the way-side, several miles
+	distant from home, and sent back a few lines of farewell:</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;My only beloved! You must pardon me for this note. The adieu
+	of last evening was only for the night; I wish to say good bye this
+	morning, for a longer time. Your answer to my suit was not unexpected;
+	in fact, I knew it would be as it was; and it was only a fatality,
+	a blind impulse, that drove me to make that disclosure. I fear that it
+	has given you pain, and I beg you to forgive my thoughtlessness. And
+	in turn, you may rest assured that I forgive you for all the anguish and
+	sickness of spirit that I have suffered on your account. There is nothing
+	to be forgiven; I know that you would not cause unhappiness to
+	any one, and it has been my own folly and madness. But I promise
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page569" title="569">&nbsp;</a>not to lay it up in my heart against you. I promise that in future years,
+	wherever my lot may be cast, you shall be in my memory, only my
+	pure, sweet, innocent cousin. And so, blessings be on your head! I
+	go forth a vagabond and a wanderer on the face of the earth. It is
+	probable that you will never hear from me again; and I pray you to
+	forget our last interview, that your thoughts may be only peace. I
+	would live in your remembrance as I was when we first met. And do
+	not think, because long years of silence and wide lands and many mountains
+	divide us, that your cousin has forgotten you. Your image lives
+	in his heart and can never die!&#8217;</p>
+
+</div>
+<div class="article">
+	<h2 class="title">STANZAS WRITTEN IN INDISPOSITION.</h2>
+	<p class="byline">BY THE LATE WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK.</p>
+	<div class="poem">
+		<h3 class="subtitle">I.</h3>
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p><span class="first_word">The</span> Spring is fair, when early flowers</p>
+			<p class="i2">Unfold them to the golden sun;</p>
+			<p>When, singing to the gladsome hours,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Blue streams through vernal meadows run;</p>
+			<p>When from the woods and from the sky</p>
+			<p class="i2">The birds their joyous anthems pour;</p>
+			<p>And Ocean, filled with melody,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Sends his glad billows to the shore.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">II.</h3>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>The Spring is sweet: its balmy breath</p>
+			<p class="i2">Is rapture to the wearied breast,</p>
+			<p>When vines with roses fondly wreathe,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Fann&#8217;d by soft breezes from the West;</p>
+			<p>When, opening by the cottage eave,</p>
+			<p class="i2">The earliest buds invite the bee;</p>
+			<p>And brooks their icy bondage leave,</p>
+			<p class="i2">To dance in music toward the sea.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">III.</h3>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>The Spring is gay: but to my heart</p>
+			<p class="i2">The glorious hues she used to wear,</p>
+			<p>As sunset clouds in gloom depart,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Have vanish&#8217;d in the empty air:</p>
+			<p>They move not now my spirit&#8217;s wing,</p>
+			<p class="i2">As in the stainless days of yore:</p>
+			<p>The happy dreams they used to bring</p>
+			<p class="i2">Have pass&#8217;d&#8212;and they will come no more.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">IV.</h3>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>Not that those dreams have lost their sway&#8212;</p>
+			<p class="i2">Not that my heart hath lost its chords;</p>
+			<p>Still with affection tuned, they play,</p>
+			<p class="i2">And leap at friendship&#8217;s kindly words;</p>
+			<p>But &#8217;tis that to my languid eye</p>
+			<p class="i2">A <em>newness</em> from life&#8217;s scene hath flown,</p>
+			<p>Which once upon the open sky,</p>
+			<p class="i2">And o&#8217;er the teeming earth, was thrown.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle"><a class="pagenum" id="page570" title="570">&nbsp;</a>V.</h3>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>Yes! there <span class="small_all_caps">IS</span> <em>something</em>, which no more</p>
+			<p class="i2">In Nature&#8217;s gorgeous round I find;</p>
+			<p>Something that charm&#8217;d in days of yore,</p>
+			<p class="i2">And filled with Sabbath peace my mind;</p>
+			<p>Which added lustre to the flower,</p>
+			<p class="i2">And verdure to the field and tree,</p>
+			<p>And wings to every sunny hour,</p>
+			<p class="i2">While roseate health remained with me!</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">VI.</h3>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>But Time&#8217;s stern wave hath roll&#8217;d along,</p>
+			<p class="i2">And now on Manhood&#8217;s waste I stand,</p>
+			<p>And mourn young Fancy&#8217;s faded throng</p>
+			<p class="i2">Of radiant hopes and visions bland;</p>
+			<p>Yet, kindling o&#8217;er my onward way,</p>
+			<p class="i2">The light of love divine I see,</p>
+			<p>And hear a voice which seems to say:</p>
+			<p class="i2">&#8216;Pilgrim! in Heaven there&#8217;s rest for thee!&#8217;</p>
+		</div>
+	</div>
+	<p class="sign"><span class="dateline">May, 1832.</span></p>
+</div>
+<div class="article">
+	<h2 class="title">DISGUISED DERIVATIVE WORDS IN ENGLISH.</h2>
+
+	<p class="byline">BY A NEW CONTRIBUTOR.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="first_word">Derivative</span> words in English, as in other languages, are usually
+	formed on regular principles. Some few of them, however, especially
+	those derived from foreign languages, and coming into extensive use, are
+	so corrupted or disguised, as greatly to obscure the derivation.</p>
+
+	<p>The following are examples:</p>
+
+	<ol>
+		<li><strong class="special_name">Church</strong> and <strong class="special_name">kirk</strong>: (Anglo-Sax. <em>circ</em> and <em>cyric</em>, Germ. <em>kirche</em>, old
+		Germ. <em>chirihha</em>, Gr. <span title="kyriakon">ϰυριαϰόν</span>, as if <em>the Lord&#8217;s house</em>, derived from <span title="kyrios">ϰύριος</span>,
+		<em>the Lord</em>, and this from <span title="kyros">ϰῦρος</span>, <em>power</em>, <em>authority</em>;) a Christian temple.</li>
+		<li><strong class="special_name">Clown</strong>: (Lat. <em>colônus</em>, from the root <em>col</em>, to cultivate;) a rustic.
+		Compare Germ. <em>Köln</em> from Lat. <em>Colonia Agrippina</em>; also Lat. <em>patrônus</em>
+		from <em>pater</em>.</li>
+		<li><strong class="special_name">Dropsy</strong>: (Fr. <em>hydropisie</em>, Portug. and Span. <em>hidropesia</em>, Ital. <em>idropisia</em>,
+		Lat. <em>hydrops</em> and <em>hydropisis</em>, Gr. <span title="hydrôps">ὑδρωψ</span>, derived from <span title="hydôr">ὑδωρ</span>, water;)
+		a corruption of <em>hydropsy</em>, an unnatural collection of water in the body.</li>
+		<li><strong class="special_name">Parchment</strong>: (Fr. <em>parchemin</em>, Portug. <em>pergaminho</em>, Span. <em>pergamino</em>,
+		Ital. <em>pergamena</em>; also Germ. and Dutch <em>pergament</em>; Lat. <em>pergamena</em>,
+		scil. <em>charta</em>, Gr. <span title="Pergamênê">Περγαμηνή</span>, scil. <span title="Chartê">Χαρτή</span>, from <em>Pergamus</em>, a city
+		of Asia Minor;) skin prepared for writing.</li>
+		<li><strong class="special_name">Periwig</strong> and <strong class="special_name">peruke</strong>: (Fr. <em>perruque</em>, Span. <em>peluca</em>, Ital. <em>parruca</em>;
+		also Germ. <em>perrucke</em>, Dutch <em>parruik</em>, Swed. <em>peruk</em>, Dan. <em>perryk</em>, Tr.
+		<em>percabhaic</em>, Gael. <em>pior-bhuic</em>; from Lat. <em>pilus</em>;) an artificial cap of
+		hair.</li>
+		<li><strong class="special_name">Priest</strong>: (Anglo-Sax. <em>priost</em>, <em>preost</em>, Germ. and Dutch <em>priester</em>,
+		Iceland <em>prestr</em>, Dan. and Swed. <em>præst</em>; also old Fr. <em>prestre</em>, Fr. <em>prêtre</em>,
+		Portug. <em>presbytero</em>, Span. <em>presbitero</em>, Ital. <em>prete</em>, Latin <em>presbyter</em>, Gr.
+		<span title="presbyteros">πρεσβύτερος</span>, comparative of <span title="presbys">πρέσβυς</span>, old;) one who officiates in sacred
+		offices.</li>
+		<li><a class="pagenum" id="page571" title="571">&nbsp;</a><strong class="special_name">Rickets</strong>: (Fr. <em>rachitis</em>, Portug. <em>rachitis</em>, Span. <em>raquitis</em>, Lat. <em>rachitis</em>,
+		Gr. <span title="rhachitis">ῥαχῖτις</span>, from <span title="rhachis">ῥάχις</span>, the back or spine;) a disease of children.</li>
+		<li><strong class="special_name">Sciatica</strong>: (Fr. <em>sciatique</em>, Portug. <em>sciatica</em>, <em>ciatica</em>, Span. <em>ciatica</em>,
+		Ital. <em>sciatica</em>, Lat. <em>ischias</em>, gen. <em>adis</em>, Gr. <span title="ischias">ἰσχιάς</span>, gen. <span title="ados">άδος</span>, from <span title="ischion">ἰσχίον</span>,
+		the hip;) the hip-gout.</li>
+		<li><strong class="special_name">Such</strong>: (Anglo-Sax. <em>swilc</em>, Meso-Goth. <em>swaleiks</em>, old Germ. <em>solîh</em>,
+		Germ. <em>solcher</em>; composed of <em>swa</em> or <em>so</em>, the ancient modal case of the
+		demonstrative pronoun, and the ancient form of Eng. <em>like</em>;) a demonstrative
+		adjective of quality, denoting <em>of that kind</em> or <em>sort</em>.</li>
+		<li><strong class="special_name">Which</strong>: (Anglo-Sax. <em>hulic</em>, <em>hwylc</em>, <em>hwilc</em>, <em>hwelc</em>, Meso-Goth. <em>hweleiks</em>,
+		or <em>hwileiks</em>, old Germ. <em>huelih</em>, Germ. <em>welcher</em>; composed of <em>hwe</em>
+		or <em>hwin</em>, the ancient modal case of the interrogative pronoun, and the
+		ancient form of Eng. <em>like</em>;) properly an interrogative adjective of
+		quality, denoting <em>of what kind</em> or <em>sort</em>? but in use an interrogative partitive
+		adjective.</li>
+		<li><strong class="special_name">Wig</strong>: a mutilation of the word <em>periwig</em>; see <em>periwig</em> above.</li>
+	</ol>
+</div>
+<div class="article">
+	<h2 class="title">NEW-ENGLAND&#8217;S SABBATH BELLS.</h2>
+
+	<div class="poem">
+		<h3 class="subtitle">I.</h3>
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>How sweet upon the morning air, the chime of Sabbath-bells,</p>
+			<p>As full and clear upon the ear the solemn music swells!</p>
+			<p>From many a church in sunny vale, and on the green hill side,</p>
+			<p>The jewels of New-England&#8217;s crown, her glory and her pride.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">II.</h3>
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>The busy hum of busy men, this morn forgets to wake,</p>
+			<p>In quiet deep the hushed winds sleep, as fearful they shall break</p>
+			<p>The holy silence which o&#8217;erspreads all nature like a spell,</p>
+			<p>With which in music sweet accords the Sabbath-morning bell.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">III.</h3>
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>Those Sabbath-bells&#8212;they call us not to piles of mossy stone,</p>
+			<p>Temples of yore, with age now hoar, and ivy overgrown,</p>
+			<p>Through whose stained windows softly creeps a dim religious light,</p>
+			<p>Seeming as it were sanctified unto the Christian&#8217;s sight.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">IV.</h3>
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>Nor do they tell of royal courts, in which to worship <span class="special_name">God</span>,</p>
+			<p>Where nobles gay in bright array bend to their monarch&#8217;s nod;</p>
+			<p>No costly paintings please the eye, nor trappings rich and rare,</p>
+			<p>To draw the humble Christian&#8217;s heart from sacred praise and prayer.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">V.</h3>
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>But to the simple, hallowed fane, we turn our willing feet,</p>
+			<p>Where, rank unknown, the free alone in humble worship meet;</p>
+			<p>While &#8216;Holiness unto the <span class="special_name">Lord</span>&#8217; upon the walls we read,</p>
+			<p>No other ornament than this, no other record need.</p>
+		</div>
+	</div>
+
+	<p class="sign"><span class="dateline">New-Haven, May 10, 1844.</span> <span class="author">A.</span></p>
+
+</div>
+<div class="article">
+	<h2 class="title"><a class="pagenum" id="page572" title="572">&nbsp;</a>A PASSAGE</h2>
+
+	<h3 class="subtitle">FROM A LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN.</h3>
+
+	<p class="byline">BY THE AUTHOR OF THE SKETCH-BOOK.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="first_word">While</span> the veteran Taric was making his wide circuit through the
+	land, an expedition under Magued the renegado proceeded against the
+	city of Cordova. The inhabitants of that ancient place had beheld the
+	great army of Don Roderick spreading like an inundation over the
+	plain of the Guadalquiver, and had felt confident that it must sweep the
+	infidel invaders from the land. What then was their dismay, when
+	scattered fugitives, wild with horror and affright, brought them tidings
+	of the entire overthrow of that mighty host, and the disappearance of
+	the king? In the midst of their consternation, the Gothic noble, Pelistes,
+	arrived at their gates, haggard with fatigue of body and anguish of
+	mind, and leading a remnant of his devoted cavaliers, who had survived
+	the dreadful battle of the Guadalete. The people of Cordova knew the
+	valiant and steadfast spirit of Pelistes, and rallied round him as a last
+	hope. &#8216;Roderick is fallen,&#8217; cried they, &#8216;and we have neither king nor
+	captain: be unto us as a sovereign; take command of our city, and
+	protect us in this hour of peril!&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>The heart of Pelistes was free from ambition, and was too much
+	broken by grief to be flattered by the offer of command; but he felt
+	above everything for the woes of his country, and was ready to assume
+	any desperate service in her cause. &#8216;Your city,&#8217; said he, &#8216;is surrounded
+	by walls and towers, and may yet check the progress of the
+	foe. Promise to stand by me to the last, and I will undertake your defence.&#8217;
+	The inhabitants all promised implicit obedience and devoted
+	zeal: for what will not the inhabitants of a wealthy city promise and
+	profess in a moment of alarm? The instant, however, that they heard
+	of the approach of the Moslem troops, the wealthier citizens packed up
+	their effects and fled to the mountains, or to the distant city of Toledo.
+	Even the monks collected the riches of their convents and churches,
+	and fled. Pelistes, though he saw himself thus deserted by those who
+	had the greatest interest in the safety of the city, yet determined not to
+	abandon its defence. He had still his faithful though scanty band of
+	cavaliers, and a number of fugitives of the army; in all amounting to
+	about four hundred men. He stationed guards, therefore, at the gates
+	and in the towers, and made every preparation for a desperate resistance.</p>
+
+	<p>In the mean time, the army of Moslems and apostate Christians advanced,
+	under the command of the Greek renegado, Magued, and guided
+	by the traitor Julian. While they were yet at some distance from the
+	city, their scouts brought to them a shepherd, whom they had surprised
+	on the banks of the Guadalquiver. The trembling hind was an inhabitant
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page573" title="573">&nbsp;</a>of Cordova, and revealed to them the state of the place, and the
+	weakness of its garrison.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;And the walls and gates,&#8217; said Magued, &#8216;are they strong and well
+	guarded?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;The walls are high, and of wondrous strength,&#8217; replied the shepherd;
+	&#8216;and soldiers hold watch at the gates by day and night. But there is
+	one place where the city may be secretly entered. In a part of the
+	wall, not far from the bridge, the battlements are broken, and there is a
+	breach at some height from the ground. Hard by stands a fig tree, by
+	the aid of which the wall may easily be scaled.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Having received this information, Magued halted with his army, and
+	sent forward several renegado Christians, partizans of Count Julian,
+	who entered Cordova as if flying before the enemy. On a dark and
+	tempestuous night, the Moslems approached to the end of the bridge
+	which crosses the Guadalquiver, and remained in ambush. Magued
+	took a small party of chosen men, and, guided by the shepherd, forded
+	the stream, and groped silently along the wall to the place where stood
+	the fig tree. The traitors, who had fraudulently entered the city, were
+	ready on the wall to render assistance. Magued ordered his followers
+	to make use of the long folds of their turbans instead of cords, and succeeded
+	without difficulty in clambering into the breach.</p>
+
+	<p>Drawing their scimitars, they now hastened to the gate which opened
+	toward the bridge; the guards, suspecting no assault from within, were
+	taken by surprise, and easily overpowered; the gate was thrown open,
+	and the army that had remained in ambush rushed over the bridge, and
+	entered without opposition.</p>
+
+	<p>The alarm had by this time spread throughout the city; but already
+	a torrent of armed men was pouring through the streets. Pelistes
+	sallied forth with his cavaliers and such of the soldiery as he could collect,
+	and endeavored to repel the foe; but every effort was in vain.
+	The Christians were slowly driven from street to street, and square to
+	square, disputing every inch of ground; until, finding another body of
+	the enemy approaching to attack them in the rear, they took refuge in
+	a convent, and succeeded in throwing to and barring the ponderous doors.
+	The Moors attempted to force the gates, but were assailed with such
+	showers of missiles from the windows and battlements that they were
+	obliged to retire. Pelistes examined the convent, and found it admirably
+	calculated for defence. It was of great extent, with spacious courts
+	and cloisters. The gates were massive, and secured with bolts and
+	bars; the walls were of great thickness; the windows high and grated;
+	there was a great tank or cistern of water, and the friars, who had fled
+	from the city, had left behind a good supply of provisions. Here, then,
+	Pelistes proposed to make a stand, and to endeavor to hold out until
+	succor should arrive from some other city. His proposition was received
+	with shouts by his loyal cavaliers; not one of whom but was ready to
+	lay down his life in the service of his commander.</p>
+
+	<p>For three long and anxious months did the good knight Pelistes and
+	his cavaliers defend their sacred asylum against the repeated assaults
+	of the infidels. The standard of the true faith was constantly displayed
+	from the loftiest tower, and a fire blazed there throughout the night, as
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page574" title="574">&nbsp;</a>signals of distress to the surrounding country. The watchman from
+	his turret kept a wary look out over the land, hoping in every cloud of
+	dust to descry the glittering helms of Christian warriors. The country,
+	however, was forlorn and abandoned, or if perchance a human being
+	was perceived, it was some Arab horseman, careering the plain of the
+	Guadalquiver as fearlessly as if it were his native desert.</p>
+
+	<p>By degrees the provisions of the convent were consumed, and the
+	cavaliers had to slay their horses, one by one, for food. They suffered
+	the wasting miseries of famine without a murmur, and always met their
+	commander with a smile. Pelistes, however, read their sufferings in
+	their wan and emaciated countenances, and felt more for them than for
+	himself. He was grieved at heart that such loyalty and valor should
+	only lead to slavery or death, and resolved to make one desperate
+	attempt for their deliverance. Assembling them one day in the court
+	of the convent, he disclosed to them his purpose.</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;Comrades and brothers in arms,&#8217; said he, &#8216;it is needless to conceal
+	danger from brave men. Our case is desperate: our countrymen
+	either know not or heed not our situation, or have not the means to help
+	us. There is but one chance of escape; it is full of peril, and, as your
+	leader, I claim the right to brave it. To-morrow at break of day I will
+	sally forth and make for the city gates at the moment of their being
+	opened; no one will suspect a solitary horseman; I shall be taken for
+	one of those recreant Christians who have basely mingled with the
+	enemy. If I succeed in getting out of the city, I will hasten to Toledo
+	for assistance. In all events I shall be back in less than twenty days.
+	Keep a vigilant look out toward the nearest mountain. If you behold
+	five lights blazing upon its summit, be assured I am at hand with succor,
+	and prepare yourselves to sally forth upon the city as I attack the gates.
+	Should I fail in obtaining aid, I will return to die with you.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>When he had finished, his warriors would fain have severally undertaken
+	the enterprise, and they remonstrated against his exposing himself
+	to such peril; but he was not to be shaken from his purpose. On the
+	following morning, ere the break of day, his horse was led forth, caparisoned,
+	into the court of the convent, and Pelistes appeared in complete
+	armor. Assembling his cavaliers in tie chapel, he prayed with them
+	for some time before the altar of the holy Virgin. Then rising, and
+	standing in the midst of them, &#8216;God knows, my companions,&#8217; said he,
+	&#8216;whether we have any longer a country; if not, better were we in our
+	graves. Loyal and true have ye been to me, and loyal have ye been
+	to my son, even to the hour of his death; and grieved am I that I have
+	no other means of proving my love for you, than by adventuring my
+	worthless life for your deliverance. All I ask of you before I go, is a
+	solemn promise to defend yourselves to the last like brave men and
+	Christian cavaliers, and never to renounce your faith, or throw yourselves
+	on the mercy of the renegado Magued, or the traitor Julian.&#8217;
+	They all pledged their words, and took a solemn oath to the same effect
+	before the altar.</p>
+
+	<p>Pelistes then embraced them one by one, and gave them his benediction,
+	and as he did so his heart yearned over them, for he felt towards
+	them, not merely as a companion in arms and as a commander, but as
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page575" title="575">&nbsp;</a>a father; and he took leave of them as if he had been going to his
+	death. The warriors, on their part, crowded round him in silence,
+	kissing his hands and the hem of his surcoat, and many of the sternest
+	shed tears.</p>
+
+	<p>The gray of the dawning had just streaked the east, when Pelistes
+	took lance in hand, hung his shield about his neck, and, mounting
+	his steed, issued quietly forth from a postern of the convent. He
+	paced slowly through the vacant streets, and the tramp of his steed
+	echoed afar in that silent hour; but no one suspected a warrior, moving
+	thus singly and tranquilly in an armed city, to be an enemy. He arrived
+	at the gate just at the hour of opening; a foraging party was entering
+	with cattle and with beasts of burthen, and he passed unheeded
+	through the throng. As soon as he was out of sight of the soldiers who
+	guarded the gate, he quickened his pace, and at length, galloping at full
+	speed, succeeded in gaining the mountains. Here he paused, and
+	alighted at a solitary farm-house to breathe his panting steed; but had
+	scarce put foot to ground when he heard the distant sound of pursuit, and
+	beheld a horseman spurring up the mountain.</p>
+
+	<p>Throwing himself again upon his steed, he abandoned the road and
+	galloped across the rugged heights. The deep dry channel of a torrent
+	checked his career, and his horse, stumbling upon the margin, rolled
+	with his rider to the bottom. Pelistes was sorely bruised by the fall,
+	and his whole visage was bathed in blood. His horse, too, was
+	maimed and unable to stand, so that there was no hope of escape. The
+	enemy drew near, and proved to be no other than Magued, the renegado
+	general, who had perceived him as he issued forth from the city, and
+	had followed singly in pursuit. &#8216;Well met, señor alcayde!&#8217; exclaimed
+	he, &#8216;and overtaken in good time. Surrender yourself my prisoner.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Pelistes made no other reply than by drawing his sword, bracing his
+	shield, and preparing for defence. Magued, though an apostate, and a
+	fierce warrior, possessed some sparks of knightly magnanimity. Seeing
+	his adversary dismounted, he disdained to take him at a disadvantage,
+	but alighting, tied his horse to a tree.</p>
+
+	<p>The conflict that ensued was desperate and doubtful, for seldom had
+	two warriors met so well matched or of equal prowess. Their shields
+	were hacked to pieces, the ground was strewed with fragments of their
+	armor, and stained with their blood. They paused repeatedly to take
+	breath; regarding each other with wonder and admiration. Pelistes,
+	however, had been previously injured by his fall, and fought to great
+	disadvantage. The renegado perceived it, and sought not to slay him,
+	but to take him alive. Shifting his ground continually, he wearied his
+	antagonist, who was growing weaker and weaker from the loss of blood.
+	At length Pelistes seemed to summon up all his remaining strength to
+	make a signal blow; it was skilfully parried and he fell prostrate upon
+	the ground. The renegado ran up, and, putting his foot upon his
+	sword, and the point of his scimitar to his throat, called upon him to ask
+	his life; but Pelistes lay without sense, and as one dead. Magued then
+	unlaced the helmet of his vanquished enemy and seated himself on a
+	rock beside him, to recover breath. In this situation the warriors were
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page576" title="576">&nbsp;</a>found by certain Moorish cavaliers, who marvelled much at the traces
+	of that stern and bloody combat.</p>
+
+	<p>Finding there was yet life in the Christian knight, they laid him upon
+	one of their horses, and, aiding Magued to remount his steed, proceeded
+	slowly to the city. As the convoy passed by the convent, the cavaliers
+	looked forth and beheld their commander borne along bleeding and a captive.
+	Furious at the sight, they sallied forth to the rescue, but were repulsed
+	by a superior force, and driven back to the great portal of the
+	church. The enemy entered pell mell with them, fighting from aisle
+	to aisle, from altar to altar, and in the courts and cloisters of the convent.
+	The greater part of the cavaliers died bravely, sword in hand;
+	the rest were disabled with wounds and made prisoners. The convent,
+	which was lately their castle, was now made their prison, and in after-times,
+	in commemoration of this event, was consecrated by the name of
+	St. George of the Captives.</p>
+
+	<p>The loyalty and the prowess of the good knight Pelistes had gained
+	him the reverence even of his enemies. He was for a long time disabled
+	by his wounds, during which he was kindly treated by the Arab
+	chieftains, who strove by every courteous means to cheer his sadness
+	and make him forget that he was a captive. When he was recovered
+	from his wounds they gave him a magnificent banquet to testify their
+	admiration of his virtues.</p>
+
+	<p>Pelistes appeared at the banquet clad in sable armor, and with a
+	countenance pale and dejected; for the ills of his country evermore
+	preyed upon his heart. Among the assembled guests was Count Julian,
+	who held a high command in the Moslem army, and was arrayed in
+	garments of mingled Christian and Morisco fashion. Pelistes had been
+	a close and bosom friend of Julian in former times, and had served with
+	him in the wars in Africa; but when the count advanced to accost him
+	with his wonted amity, he turned away in silence, and deigned not to
+	notice him; neither during the whole of the repast did he address to
+	him ever a word, but treated him as one unknown.</p>
+
+	<p>When the banquet was nearly at a close, the discourse turned upon
+	the events of the war; and the Moslem chieftains, in great courtesy,
+	dwelt upon the merits of many of the Christian cavaliers who had fallen
+	in battle, and all extolled the valor of those who had recently perished
+	in the defence of the convent. Pelistes remained silent for a time, and
+	checked the grief which swelled within his bosom as he thought of his
+	devoted cavaliers. At length, lifting up his voice, &#8216;Happy are the
+	dead,&#8217; said he, &#8216;for they rest in peace, and are gone to receive the reward
+	of their piety and valor! I could mourn over the loss of my companions
+	in arms, but they have fallen with honor, and are spared the
+	wretchedness I feel in witnessing the thraldom of my country. I have
+	seen my only son, the pride and hope of my age, cut down at my side;
+	I have beheld kindred friends and followers falling one by one around
+	me, and have become so seasoned to those losses that I have ceased to
+	weep. Yet there is one man over whose loss I will never cease to
+	grieve. He was the loved companion of my youth, and the steadfast
+	associate of my graver years. He was one of the most loyal of Christian
+	knights. As a friend he was loving and sincere; as a warrior his
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page577" title="577">&nbsp;</a>achievements were above all praise. What has become of him, alas! I
+	know not. If fallen in battle, and I knew where his bones were laid,
+	whether bleaching on the plains of Xeres, or buried in the waters of the
+	Gaudalete, I would seek them out and enshrine them as the relics of a
+	sainted patriot. Or if, like many of his companions in arms, he should
+	be driven to wander in foreign lands, I would join him in his hapless
+	exile, and we would mourn together over the desolation of our country!&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Even the hearts of the Arab warriors were touched by the lament of
+	the good Pelistes, and they said: &#8216;Who was this peerless friend, in
+	whose praise thou art so fervent?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;His name,&#8217; replied Pelistes, &#8216;was Count Julian.&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>The Moslem warriors stared with surprise. &#8216;Noble cavalier,&#8217; exclaimed
+	they, &#8216;has grief disordered thy senses? Behold thy friend,
+	living and standing before thee, and yet thou dost not know him! This,
+	this is Count Julian!&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>Upon this, Pelistes turned his eyes upon the count, and regarded him
+	for a time, with a lofty and stern demeanor; and the countenance of
+	Julian darkened, and was troubled, and his eye sank beneath the regard
+	of that loyal and honorable cavalier. And Pelistes said, &#8216;In the name
+	of God, I charge thee, man unknown! to answer. Dost thou presume
+	to call thyself Count Julian?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>The count reddened with anger at these words. &#8216;Pelistes,&#8217; said he,
+	&#8216;what means this mockery? Thou knowest me well; thou knowest
+	me for Count Julian?&#8217;</p>
+
+	<p>&#8216;I know thee for a base imposter!&#8217; cried Pelistes. &#8216;Count Julian
+	was a noble Gothic knight; but thou appearest in mongrel Moorish
+	garb. Count Julian was a Christian, faithful and devout; but I behold
+	in thee a renegado and an infidel. Count Julian was ever loyal
+	to his king, and foremost in his country&#8217;s cause: were he living, he
+	would be the first to put shield on neck and lance in rest, to clear the
+	land of her invaders: but thou art a hoary traitor! thy hands are
+	stained with the royal blood of the Goths, and thou hast betrayed thy
+	country and thy God. Therefore, I again repeat, man unknown! if
+	thou sayest thou art Count Julian, thou liest! My friend, alas! is dead;
+	and thou art some fiend from hell, which has taken possession of his
+	body to dishonor his memory and render him an abhorrence among men!&#8217;
+	So saying, Pelistes turned his back upon the traitor, and went forth
+	from the banquet; leaving Count Julian overwhelmed with confusion,
+	and an object of scorn to all the Moslem cavaliers.</p>
+
+</div>
+<div class="article">
+	<h2 class="title">ON SEEING A LADY WEEP OVER A NOSEGAY.</h2>
+
+	<div class="poem">
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p><span class="first_word">Though</span> plucked from off the parent stems,</p>
+			<p class="i2">The flow&#8217;rs forget to die,</p>
+			<p>When Beauty all their leaves begems</p>
+			<p class="i2">With tears from her sweet eye.</p>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="stanza">
+			<p>There is a heart which throb&#8217;d to-day</p>
+			<p class="i2">To see thee weep alone.</p>
+			<p>And longed to wipe those drops away,</p>
+			<p class="i2">Or make that grief its own.</p>
+		</div>
+	</div>
+
+	<p class="sign"><span class="author">Plutarch Shaw: 1844.</span></p>
+</div>
+<div class="department" id="literary_notices">
+	<h2 class="title"><a class="pagenum" id="page578" title="578">&nbsp;</a>LITERARY NOTICES.</h2>
+
+	<p class="work_reviewed"><span class="special_name">Literary Remains of the late Willis Gaylord Clarke</span>. Parts Three and Four. New-York:
+	<span class="special_name">Burgess, Stringer and Company</span>.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="first_word">The</span> reception given to our notice of this serial work in our last number, has emboldened
+	us to refer to the issues which have since appeared, containing a copious variety of matter
+	which will be new to great numbers of our readers. One of the best evidences of the
+	<em>naturalness</em> and ease of our author&#8217;s writings, is to be found in the ready appreciation of
+	them by all classes of readers. Whether the vein be a serious one, or the theme turn upon
+	the humorous or the burlesque, it is not too much, we think, to say that the writer takes
+	always with him the heart or the fancy of the reader. Without however pausing to characterize
+	productions which bid fair to become very widely and favorably known, we shall
+	venture, under favor of the reader, to present a few more extracts, &#8216;which it is hoped may
+	please.&#8217; The following illustration of a night-scene at the Kaatskill Mountain-House, on
+	the evening of the Fourth of July, we can aver to be a faithful Daguerreotype sketch, for
+	we saw it with the writer:</p>
+
+	<blockquote>
+		<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">Take</span> my arm, and step forth with me from the piazza of the Mountain-House. It is night. A
+		few stars are peering from a dim azure field of western sky; the high-soaring breeze, the breath of
+		heaven, makes a stilly music in the neighboring pines; the meek crest of Dian rolls along the blue
+		depths of ether, tinting with silver lines the half dun, half fleecy clouds; they who are in the parlors
+		make &#8216;considerable&#8217; noise; there is an individual at the end of the portico discussing his quadruple
+		julep, and another devotedly sucking the end of a cane, as if it were full of mother&#8217;s milk; he hummeth
+		also an air from <cite>Il Pirata</cite>, and wonders, in the simplicity of his heart, &#8216;why the devil that there
+		steam-boat from Albany doesn&#8217;t begin to show its lights down on the Hudson.&#8217; His companion of
+		the glass, however, is intent on the renewal thereof. Calling to him the chief &#8216;help&#8217; of the place, he
+		says: &#8216;Is that other antifogmatic ready?&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;No, Sir.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;Well, now, person, what&#8217;s the reason? What was my last observation? Says I to you, says I,
+		&#8216;Make me a fourth of them beverages;&#8217; and moreover, I added, &#8216;Just you keep doing so; be <em>constantly</em>
+		making them, till the order is countermanded.&#8217; Give us another; go! vanish!&#8212;&#8216;disappear
+		and appear!&#8221;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;The obsequious servant went; and returning with the desired draught, observed, probably for the
+		thousandth time: &#8216;There! that&#8217;s what I call the true currency; them&#8217;s the <em>ginooyne</em> mint-drops;
+		<span class="small_all_caps">HA</span>&#8212;<em>ha</em>&#8212;ha!&#8217;&#8212;these separate divisions of his laughter coming out of his mouth at intervals of about
+		half a minute each.</p>
+
+		<p class="prose_break">&middot;&middot;&middot;&middot;&middot;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">There</span> is a bench near the verge of the Platform, where, when you sit at evening, the hollow-sounding
+		air comes up from the vast vale below, like the restless murmurs of the ocean. Anchor
+		yourself here for a while, reader, with me. It being the evening of the national anniversary, a few
+		patriotic individuals are extremely busy in piling up a huge pyramid of dried pine branches, barrels
+		covered with tar, and kegs of spirits, to a height of some fifteen or twenty feet&#8212;perhaps higher. A
+		bonfire is premeditated. You shall see anon, how the flames will rise. The preparations are completed;
+		the fire is applied. Hear how it crackles and hisses! Slowly but spitefully it mounts from
+		limb to limb, and from one combustible to another, until the whole welkin is a-blaze, and shaking as
+		with thunder! It is a beautiful sight. The gush of unwonted radiance rolls in effulgent surges
+		adown the vale. How the owl hoots with surprise at the interrupting light! Bird of wisdom, it is
+		the Fourth! and you may well add your voice to swell the choral honors of the time. How the tall
+		old pines, withered by the biting scathe of Eld, rise to the view, afar and near; white shafts, bottomed
+		in darkness, and standing like the serried spears of an innumerable army! The groups around the
+		beacon are gathered together, but are forced to enlarge the circle of their acquaintance, by the growing
+		intensity of the increasing blaze. Some of them, being ladies, their white robes waving in the mountain
+		<a class="pagenum" id="page579" title="579">&nbsp;</a>breeze, and the light shining full upon them, present, you observe, a beautiful appearance. The
+		pale pillars of the portico flash fitfully into view, now seen and gone, like columns of mist. The
+		swarthy African who kindled the fire regards it with perspiring face and grinning ivories; and lo!
+		the man who hath mastered the quintupled glass of metamorphosed <em lang="la" xml:lang="la">eau-de-vie</em>, standing by the
+		towering pile of flame, and, reaching his hand on high, he smiteth therewith his sinister pap, with a
+		most hollow sound; the knell, as it were of his departing reason. In short, he is making an oration!</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;Listen to those voiceful currents of air, traversing the vast profound below the Platform! What
+		a mighty circumference do they sweep! Over how many towns, and dwellings, and streams, and incommunicable
+		woods! Murmurs of the dark, sources and awakeners of sublime imagination, swell
+		from afar. You have thoughts of eternity and power here, which shall haunt you evermore. But we
+		must be early stirrers in the morning. Let us to bed.</p>
+
+		<p class="prose_break">&middot;&middot;&middot;&middot;&middot;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;You can lie on your pillow at the Kaatskill House, and see the god of day look upon you from
+		behind the pinnacles of the White Mountains in New Hampshire, hundreds of miles away. Noble
+		prospect! As the great orb heaves up in ineffable grandeur, he seems rising from beneath you, and
+		you fancy that you have attained an elevation where may be seen <em>the motion of the world</em>. No intervening
+		land to limit the view, you seem suspended in mid-air, without one obstacle to check the eye.
+		The scene is indescribable. The chequered and interminable vale, sprinkled with groves, and lakes,
+		and towns, and streams; the mountains afar off, swelling tumultuously heavenward, like waves of
+		the ocean, some incarnadined with radiance, others purpled in shade; all these, to use the language
+		of an auctioneer&#8217;s advertisement, &#8216;are too tedious to mention, but may be seen on the premises.&#8217; I
+		know of but one picture which will give the reader an idea of this etherial spot. It was the view
+		which the angel Michael was polite enough, one summer morning, to point out to Adam, from the
+		highest hill of Paradise.&#8217;</p>
+
+	</blockquote>
+
+	<p>Many and many a young father will recognize, in the following, his own emotions, as he
+	looks in moments of thoughtfulness upon the little &#8216;olive-branches&#8217; around him, in whom
+	he lives over again his own earliest years:</p>
+
+	<blockquote>
+		<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">To</span> those who are disposed to glean philosophy from the mayhap less noticeable objects of this
+		busy world, there are few sights more lovely than childhood. The little cherub who now sits at my
+		knee, and tries, with tiny effort, to clutch the quill with which I am playing for you, good reader;
+		whose capricious taste, varying from ink-stand to paper, and from that to books, and every other
+		portable thing&#8212;all &#8216;moveables that I could tell you of&#8217;&#8212;he has in his little person those elements
+		which constitute both the freshness of our sublunary mortality, and that glorious immortality which
+		the mortal shall yet put on. Gazing upon his fair young brow, his peach-like cheek, and the depths
+		of those violet eyes, I feel myself rejuvenated. That which bothered Nicodemus, is no marvel to me.
+		I feel that I have a new existence; nor can I dispel the illusion. It is harder, indeed, to believe that
+		he will ever be what I am, than that I am otherwise than he is now. I can not imagine that he will
+		ever become a pilous adult, with harvests for the razor on that downy chin. Will those golden locks
+		become the brown auburn? Will that forehead rise as a varied and shade-changing record of pleasure
+		or care? Will the classic little lips, now colored as by the radiance of a ruby, ever be fitfully
+		bitten in the glow of literary composition!&#8212;and will those sun-bright locks, which hang about his
+		temples like the soft lining of a summer cloud, become meshes where hurried fingers shall thread
+		themselves in play? By the mass, I can not tell. But this I know. That which hath been, shall be:
+		the lot of manhood, if he live, will be upon him; the charm, the obstacle, the triumphant fever; the
+		glory, the success, the far-reaching thoughts,</p>
+
+		<div class="poem">
+			<div class="stanza">
+				<p>&#8216;That make them eagle wings</p>
+				<p>To pierce the unborn years.&#8217;</p>
+			</div>
+		</div>
+
+	</blockquote>
+
+	<p>The &#8216;Ollapodiana&#8217; papers are concluded in the third number, and a portion of the issue
+	is devoted to the commencement of the &#8216;Miscellaneous Prose Papers&#8217; of the writer, which
+	are both numerous and various, &#8216;A Chapter on Cats&#8217; records an amusing story, replete
+	with incident, which turns upon the deplorable consequences, in one sad instance at least,
+	of cat-killing. An illustrative although not satisfactory passage is subjoined:</p>
+
+	<blockquote>
+		<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">I am</span> subject, in summer, to restlessness. Thick-coming fancies mar my rest, and my ear is peculiarly
+		sensitive to the least inappropriate sound. One sultry evening in July, I returned home later
+		than usual, from an arbitration, wherein I lost a cause on which I had counted certainly to win. I
+		suspect I bored the arbitrators with too long a plea, and too voluminous quotations of precedents; for
+		when I finished, two were asleep, and most of the others yawning. They decided against my client,
+		and I came home mad with chagrin, and crept into bed, longing for speedy oblivion in the arms of
+		Sleep.                          </p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;But that calm sister of Death would not be won to my embrace. I lay tossing for a long time in
+		&#8216;restless ecstacy,&#8217; until vexed and overwearied nature at last sunk to repose. I could not have slumbered
+		over ten minutes, before I was awakened by the most outrageous caterwauling that ever stung
+		the human ear. I arose in a fury, and looked out of the window. All was still. The cause for outcry
+		appeared to have ceased. Now and then there was a low gutteral wail, between a suppressed
+		grunt and a squeal; but it was so faint that nothing could have lived &#8216;twixt that and silence. After a
+		listening probation of a few minutes, I slunk back into my sheets.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;I had scarcely dozed a quarter of an hour, when the obnoxious vociferations arose again. They
+		were fierce, ill-natured, and shrill. I arose again, vexed beyond endurance. All was quiet in a moment.
+		I am not given to profanity; I deem it foolish and wicked; but on this occasion, after stretching
+		<a class="pagenum" id="page580" title="580">&nbsp;</a>my body like a sheeted ghost, half out of the window, and gazing into the shadows of the garden
+		to discover the object of my annoyance, I exclaimed in a loud and spiteful voice, which expressed my
+		concentrated hate:</p>
+
+		<p>&#8212;&#8212;&#8216;<em>D&#8212;n that cat!</em>&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;&#8216;Young gentleman,&#8217; said a passing guardian of the night, from the street, &#8216;you had better pop your
+		head in and stop your noise. If you don&#8217;t, you will rue it; now mind-I-tell-ye.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;&#8216;Look here, old Charley,&#8217; said I, in return, &#8216;don&#8217;t be impertinent. It is your business to preserve
+		the peace, and to obviate every evil that looks disgracious in the city&#8217;s eye. You guard the slumbers
+		of her citizens; and if you expect a dollar from me at Christmas, for the poetry in your next annual
+		address, you will perform what I now request, and what it is your solemn and bounded duty to do.
+		Spring your rattle; comprehend that vagrom cat, and take her to the watch-house, I will appear as
+		plaintiff against the quadruped, before the mayor, in the morning. Her character is bad&#8212;her habits
+		are scandalous.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;&#8216;Oh, pshaw!&#8217; said the watchman, and went clattering up the street, singing &#8216;N&#8217;hav p-a-st dwelve
+		o&#8217;glock, and a glowdee morn.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;I reverted to my pillow, and fell into a train of conjectures touching the grimalkin. Possibly it
+		might be the darling old friend of Miss Dillon. Then I thought of others&#8212;then I slept.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;I cannot declare to a second how long my fitful slumber lasted, before I was startled from my bed
+		by a yell, which proceeded apparently from a cat in my room. I had just been dreaming of a great
+		mouser, with ears like a jackass, and claws, armed with long &#8216;pickers and stingers,&#8217; sitting on my
+		bosom, and sucking away my breath. I sprang at once into the middle of the room. I searched every
+		where&#8212;nothing was in the apartment. Then there rushed toward the zenith one universal cat-shriek,
+		which went echoing off on the night-wind like the reverberation of a sharp thunder-peal.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;My blood was now <em>up</em> for vengeance. One hungry and fiery wish to destroy that diabolical caterwauler,
+		took possession of my soul. At that instant the clock struck one. It was the death knell of
+		the feline vocalist. I looked out of the window, and in the light of a stray lot of moonshine, streaming
+		through the tall chimneys to the south-east, I saw Miss Dillon&#8217;s romantic favorite, alternately cooing
+		and fighting with a large mouser of the neighborhood, that I had seen for several afternoons previous,
+		walking leisurely along the garden wall, as if absorbed in deep meditation, and forming some libertine
+		resolve. In fine, they each seemed saturate with the spirit of the Gnome king, Umbriel, in the
+		drama, when he</p>
+
+		<div class="poem">
+			<div class="stanza">
+				<p class="i12">&#8212;&#8212;&#8216;stalked abroad</p>
+				<p>Urging the wolf to tear the buffalo.&#8217;</p>
+			</div>
+		</div>
+
+		<p>&#8216;The death of one of these noisy belligerents being determined on, I looked round my room for the
+		tools of retribution. Not a moveable thing, however, could I discover, save a new pitcher, which had
+		been sent home that very day, and to which my name and address were appended on a bit of card. I
+		clutched it with desperate fury, and pouring into my bowl the water contained in it, I poised it in my
+		hand for the deadly heave. I had been a member of a quoit club in the country, and the principles of
+		a clever throw were familiar to me. I resolved to make the vessel describe what is called in philosophy
+		a <em>parabolic curve</em>, so that while it knocked out the brains of one combatant, it should effectually
+		admonish the survivor of the iniquity of his doings. I approached the window&#8212;balanced the pitcher&#8212;and
+		then drave it home. Its reception was acknowledged by a loud, choking squall&#8212;a faint
+		yell of agony, and then a respectful silence. Satisfied that my pitcher had been broken at the fountain
+		of life, and that the silent tabby would not soon tune her pipes again, I retired to bed, and slept
+		with the serenity and comfort of one who is conscious of having performed a virtuous action.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;In the morning, the cat was found &#8216;keeled up&#8217; on a bed of pinks, with her head broken in, and her
+		ancient and venerable whiskers dabbled in blood. The shattered pitcher lay by her side. The vessel
+		had done its worst&#8212;so had my victim.&#8217;</p>
+
+	</blockquote>
+
+	<p>The story proper, upon the consecutive incidents of which we shall not touch, closes with
+	the annexed whimsical anecdote:</p>
+
+	<blockquote>
+		<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">An</span> anonymous wag not long ago, placed an advertisement in each of our city journals, signed by
+		an eminent house on the Delaware wharf, and stating that <span class="special_emphasis">Five Hundred Cats</span> were wanted immediately
+		by the firm. The said firm in the meantime knew nothing of the matter.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;On visiting their counting-house the next morning, the partners found the streets literally blocked
+		up with enterprising cat-sellers. Huge negroes were there, each with ten or fifteen sage, grave tabbies
+		tied together with a string. Old market-women had brought thither whole families of the feline genus,
+		from the superannuated <em>Tom</em>, to the blind kitten. The air resounded with the squallings of the quadrupedal
+		multitude. New venders, with their noisy property, were seen thronging to the place from
+		every avenue.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;&#8216;What&#8217;ll you <em>guv</em> me for this &#8217;ere lot?&#8217; said a tall shad-woman, pressing up toward the counting-room.
+		&#8216;The newspapers says you allows liberal prices. I axes a dollar a piece for the old &#8217;uns, and
+		five levys for the kittens.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;&#8216;You have been fooled,&#8217; said the chief partner, who appeared with a look of dismay at the door,
+		and was obliged to speak as loud amid the din as a sea-captain in a storm. &#8216;I want no cats. I have
+		no use for them. I could not eat them. I couldn&#8217;t sell them. I never advertised for them.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;A decided mendicant, a member of the great family of loafers, with a red, <em>bulgy</em> nose, and bloated
+		cheeks, who had three cats tied to a string in his hand, now mounted a cotton bale, and producing a
+		newspaper, spelt the advertisement through as audibly as he could under the circumstances, demanding
+		of the assembly as he closed, &#8216;if that there advertysement wasn&#8217;t a true bill?&#8217; An unanimous
+		&#8216;Sarting!&#8217; echoed through the crowd. Encouraged by the electric response, the loafer proceeded to
+		make a short speech. He touched upon the rights of trade, the liberty of the press, the importance
+		of fair dealing, and the benefits of printing; and concluded by advising his hearers to go the death
+		for their rights, and &#8216;not to stand no humbug.&#8217; Such was the effect of his eloquence, that the firm
+		<a class="pagenum" id="page581" title="581">&nbsp;</a>against which he wielded his oratorical thunder found it necessary to compromise matters by treating
+		the entire concourse to a hogshead of wine. &#8216;The company separated at an early hour,&#8217; consoled for
+		the loss of their bargains and the emptiness of their pockets by the lightsomeness of their heads and
+		hearts.&#8217;</p>
+
+	</blockquote>
+
+	<p>Let us hope that our readers will find, in the entire work from which we quote, ample
+	reasons for the favor which it is receiving at the hands of the public.</p>
+
+
+
+	<p class="work_reviewed"><span class="special_name">Mental Hygiene: or an Examination of the Intellect and Passions</span>. Designed to illustrate
+	their Influence on Health and the Duration of Life. By <span class="special_name">William Sweetser, M. D.</span> In
+	one volume. pp. 270. New-York: <span class="special_name">J. and H. G. Langley</span>.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="first_word">This</span> is a work destined, as we can easily foresee, to produce great good. Its leading
+	design, as its title implies, and as is stated indeed by the author in his preface, is to elucidate
+	the influence of intellect and passion upon the health and endurance of the human
+	organization; an influence which has been but imperfectly understood and appreciated in
+	its character and importance, by mankind at large. The volume under notice is divided
+	into two parts. Under the first are considered the intellectual operations in respect to their
+	influence on the general functions of the body; under the second is embraced a view of
+	the moral feelings or passions, in the relation which they also sustain to our physical nature.
+	Of these a concise definition is offered, with such classification as is necessary to the leading
+	design of the work. Their effects upon the different functions of the animal economy are
+	next noticed; and a description is given of a few of the most important passions belonging
+	to each of the three great classes; namely, pleasurable, painful and mixed, into which they
+	are separated; their physical phenomena and individual influence on the well-being of
+	the human mechanism being closely examined. A forcible exposition is also given of the
+	evil consequences resulting from an ill-regulated imagination (acting through the instrumentality
+	of the passions, morbidly excited by its licentious operation,) to the firmness of
+	the nervous system, and the integrity of the general health. The volume is not addressed
+	to any particular class of readers, and being free from technical expressions, is rendered
+	plain and comprehensive to all. We commend this volume of Mr. <span class="special_name">Sweetser</span> cordially
+	to our readers, firmly impressed with the belief that the principles which it advances may
+	be rendered subservient both to the physical and moral welfare of our countrymen.</p>
+
+
+
+	<p class="work_reviewed"><span class="special_name">Life in the New World, by Seatsfield</span>: translated from the German by <span class="special_name">Gustavus C. Hebbe</span>,
+	LL. D., and <span class="special_name">James Mackay</span>, M.A. New-York: <span class="special_name">J. Winchester</span>, &#8216;New World&#8217; Press.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="first_word">The</span> fourth number of this very remarkable work has been published; and we have had
+	a fair opportunity of testing the merits of the mysterious author. The circumstances must
+	now be generally known, under which these works appear before the public. It appears
+	that <span class="special_name">Mundt</span>, a German scholar, who is publishing a continuation of <span class="special_name">Schlegel&#8217;s</span> History
+	of Literature, has in his delineations of character given almost unbounded praise to an
+	American named <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>. Among the various works attributed to him are &#8216;Life in
+	the New World,&#8217; &#8216;Sea, Sketches,&#8217; &#8216;South and North,&#8217; &#8216;Virey,&#8217; the &#8216;Legitimate,&#8217; and others,
+	which are to be issued in rapid succession from the press of <span class="special_name">Winchester</span>, &#8216;the indefatigable,&#8217;
+	as he may well be called; for the rapidity with which he sends out to the world
+	the literary novelties of the day is a theme of public marvel. The German, in which these
+	volumes are written, is said by competent judges, to be very pure and powerful: and indeed
+	we may rest assured that if the case were otherwise, a critic of such high reputation
+	as <span class="special_name">Mundt</span> would never have spoken of <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> in such enthusiastic terms. The publisher,
+	we understand, obtained several of the works from the library of Columbia College,
+	through the politeness of Professor <span class="special_name">Tellkampt</span>.</p>
+
+	<p><a class="pagenum" id="page582" title="582">&nbsp;</a>The opinion, which some have expressed, that <span class="special_name">Seatsfield&#8217;s</span> books are made up of
+	stolen selections from different American writers, is unfounded. We cannot recognize in
+	his style or thought familiar passages; and beside, there does not appear to be any rational
+	inducement for this species of plagiarism. It is evident that the writings are indeed what
+	they appear to be, the genuine productions of an able man. The descriptions of natural
+	scenery are very graphic. &#8216;The first trip on the Red River,&#8217; and the description of the
+	trappers, is one of the most animated sketches we have ever read. Our mountains, rivers,
+	cataracts, ocean-lakes, and forests, are described with the most remarkable spirit and
+	truth.&#8217; The translation, we are informed by the best judges, is extremely faithful.</p>
+
+	<p class="work_reviewed"><span class="special_name">Poetry and History of Wyoming</span>. By <span class="special_name">William L. Stone</span>, Esq. Second edition, enlarged.
+	New-York: <span class="special_name">Mark H. Newman</span>.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="first_word">This</span> indefatigable laborer in the mine of Indian history continues to throw off from time
+	to time works upon that subject, which bear the marks of great industry, patient research,
+	and extensive information, and which have deservedly given him a high literary reputation
+	as an historical writer. What has yet appeared we believe is only the beginning of a series
+	of works relating to Indian annals, which are to be completed as soon as the author&#8217;s
+	health, and the duties of an arduous profession, will allow. From a late honor conferred
+	upon him by one of the remnants of the Six Nations, in electing him one of their chiefs, by
+	the name of <span class="special_name">Sa-go-sen-o-ta</span>, it seems plain that they highly approve of his efforts to preserve
+	their history; and it may be considered as endorsing the accuracy of his investigations.
+	In this light, the honor conferred, though coming from those whom civilization is crushing
+	beneath its superior intelligence and power, is valuable and important. The present book
+	takes the poetical share of its title from the fact that the author has prefixed <span class="special_name">Campbell&#8217;s</span>
+	celebrated poem, preceded by a sketch of his life, furnished by <span class="special_name">Washington Irving</span>.
+	&#8216;Gertrude of Wyoming,&#8217; though beautiful, and seeming to be a narrative of real incidents in
+	a poetical dress, is nevertheless a fiction, albeit founded upon an actual tragedy, whose
+	horrors can hardly be exaggerated by any pen. It has been the design of our author to record
+	the real history of the section of country which was stained by this tragedy, and which
+	for this reason, has a melancholy interest thrown over its natural charms.</p>
+
+	<p>The history of Wyoming does not commence, as many suppose, with the war of the
+	American revolution. Long before, the conflict of human passions in the breast of savage
+	and civilized man had discolored its soil with blood. During this antecedent period, its
+	aboriginal annals are replete with incidents, which were greatly multiplied after the civil
+	wars which disturbed the repose of that secluded valley had begun to be waged between
+	the rival claimants to the territory from Connecticut and Pennsylvania, and which for
+	twelve or thirteen years prior to the revolutionary war present a series of the most stirring
+	events. The author, therefore, in order to render the history complete, has taken it up before
+	the first known visit of the white men; of whom, among the earliest, were the Moravian
+	missionaries. To the honor of these men, be it recorded, that in this instance, as in
+	others, they plunged into the depths of the forest, and labored among the savages with a
+	christian zeal and enterprize which have never been surpassed. The scenes of the revolution,
+	embracing not only the great massacre in July, 1778, with its frightful horrors, but also
+	a number of other bloody forays of the Indians upon the white men, are moreover faithfully
+	described. But after all, perhaps the most interesting portion of the volume is formed of
+	the narrative of the services and sufferings of individuals and families. These latter records
+	are full of those wild and romantic incidents which are peculiar to border warfare;
+	where the steady courage and determined bravery of the European appears in deadly conflict
+	with the wiliness, cunning, and sleepless vengeance of the savage. To say that all
+	this is narrated by the author in the spirit of accurate history, would be far below the meed
+	<a class="pagenum" id="page583" title="583">&nbsp;</a>of praise that is due. He has executed this part of the book in a style of animated and
+	lively description, and with that flowing and finished diction, which can only be attained
+	when the mind of a writer is perfectly familiar with the events, and when, by the force of
+	imagination, he becomes himself as it were an actor instead of a spectator of the scenes
+	which he narrates.</p>
+
+	<p>Additional interest is given to this spot, from the fact, which probably is not generally
+	known, except to the professed historian, that the distinguished patriot <span class="special_name">Timothy Pickering</span>
+	took up his abode in the valley of Wyoming, attracted no doubt by its unrivalled
+	beauties, to which he was first introduced during a military campaign, but which he afterward
+	contemplated, on the return of peace, with an eye capable of being charmed by the
+	picturesque in nature. The concluding chapter of the book is devoted mainly to a spirited
+	account of the abduction of that gentleman, and his confinement in the wilderness
+	by a gang of ruffians, who, after trying in vain to bend his soldier-like mind to a compliance
+	with their violent designs, gave him an ungracious release, and allowed him to return
+	to his family. Among the papers in the appendix, now first introduced to the public, will
+	be found a deed of purchase, made from the Indians ninety years ago, by the Connecticut
+	Land Company, containing the names of some six hundred of the most wealthy and distinguished
+	people of that State. It is important as a means of showing the valuation of land
+	at that period, and a proof that it was acquired by honest purchase. This edition has
+	been enlarged to the amount of more than one hundred pages of letter-press; an addition
+	found necessary by the discovery of increased materials by the author since the publication
+	of the first edition.</p>
+
+	<p>In concluding this brief notice of a work written with decided talent, and designed to fill
+	an important niche in the early history of this country, we are bound to thank the author, and
+	to express the hope that he will be able to finish the historical design which he has sketched,
+	pertaining to that interesting race, of whom it may be truly said, that &#8216;the hour of their destiny
+	has already struck.&#8217; This volume shows us, that in our own country may be found
+	topics for literary effort, worthy of employing the gifted pens of America, without going
+	abroad in quest of subjects, in the discussion of which we shall long be surpassed by
+	foreigners, on account of their superior facilities and larger sources of information. As a book
+	entirely American, we commend it to the reading public, confident that it will be received
+	with favor wherever it is read, and be considered a valuable addition to the historical
+	department of every gentleman&#8217;s library.</p>
+
+
+
+	<p class="work_reviewed"><span class="special_name">A New Spirit of the Age</span>. By <span class="special_name">R. H. Horne</span>. In one volume. New-York: <span class="special_name">Harper and
+	Brothers</span>.</p>
+
+	<p><span class="first_word">The</span> Mr. <span class="special_name">Horne</span> who stands sponsor for this &#8216;child of many fathers&#8217; must not be confounded
+	with Mr. <span class="special_name">Hartwell Horne</span>, who in a literary point of view is quite another
+	person. The author of the volume before us, however, with the aid of sundry fellow <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">littérateurs</em>
+	&#8216;of the secondary formation,&#8217; as <span class="special_name">Carlyle</span> phrases it, has collected together quite
+	a variety of materials, the whole being intended to form a sort of sequel to <span class="special_name">Hazlitt&#8217;s</span>
+	&#8216;Spirit of the Age,&#8217; a brilliant work, to which the present bears slight resemblance. We
+	quite agree with a contemporary, that it manifests little or no independence of judgment or
+	originality of thought. &#8216;It is the result of the labor of many hands, and those not the most
+	skilful or experienced. It consequently wants that homogenousness of style which one
+	would expect in a professed imitation of so excellent a model. The highest degree of merit
+	that can be accorded to it is that of a collection of magazine articles of second rate merit.
+	It is likely to prove popular with the generality of readers who do not trouble themselves to
+	dip beneath the surface of things; but we must caution those who would form a just estimate
+	of the characters and merits of the distinguished writers whose works are analyzed
+	in it, that its premises are not always correct nor its deductions sound.&#8217;</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class="department" id="editors_table">
+	<h2 class="title"><a class="pagenum" id="page584" title="584">&nbsp;</a>EDITOR&#8217;S TABLE.</h2>
+	<div class="ed_table_item">
+		<p><span class="ed_table_title">A day with the great Seatsfield.</span>&#8212;The Boston Daily Advertiser recently divulged,
+		with a most curious air of bewilderment, the name of a new, and as it seems hitherto
+		unheard-of, ornament to American literature&#8212;the illustrious <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>. Illustrious, however,
+		only upon the other side of the water; for it appears that we Yankee cotton-raisers
+		have somewhat else to do than to busy our brains about any letters except letters of credit,
+		or any fame that is not reverberated from abroad. No one, of course, at all conversant
+		with modern German literature, not even the slightest skimmer of their late periodical publications,
+		or the most occasional peruser of the <cite lang="de" xml:lang="de">Allgemeine Zeitung</cite> or <cite lang="de" xml:lang="de">Dresden Bluthundstaglich</cite>,
+		can have failed to notice with patriotic pride the gradual but gigantic progress of
+		this new <span class="special_name">Voltaire</span> to the highest pinnacle of popular renown. But, sooth to say, our
+		western world is so overrun with pretenders; there are so many young gentlemen annually
+		spawned by Yale and Cambridge, who affect to read German without being able to construe
+		the advertisement of a Leipsic bookseller; so numerous are the blue-spectacled
+		nymphs who quote <span class="special_name">Jean Paul</span> betwixt their blanc-mange and oysters, without comprehending
+		even the outermost rind of its in-meaning; so utterly ignorant are our so-called
+		literati of any subject beyond the scope of a newspaper, that the name of <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>
+		sounded as strangely in American ears as if he had lately arrived from Herschel or Georgium
+		Sidus in a balloon. It is true that some two or three of our eminent scholars, a few
+		travellers, men of taste, who had wandered by the Rhine, were acquainted with his reputation,
+		and in some degree with his productions. <span class="special_name">Emerson</span> doubtless must have been
+		aware of his renown; Professor <span class="special_name">Felton</span> of course had read him as often as he has <span class="special_name">Homer</span>;
+		<span class="special_name">Jones</span>, <span class="special_name">Wilkins</span>, and <span class="special_name">F. Smith</span> had studied him with delight. The &#8216;Dial,&#8217; a journal of
+		much repute, had even spoken openly, we are told, of his success in Europe. Mr. <span class="special_name">W. E.
+		Channing</span>, the poet, had evidently but perhaps unconsciously imitated his peculiar viscidity
+		of style, and (if we may use such an expression.) extreme flakiness of thought. But in
+		spite of these few exceptions to the general indifference, let it stand recorded, that when
+		the name of <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> returned to his own shore, it was an alien and unmeaning word.
+		His own country, so deeply indebted to his powerful pen, absolutely knew him not. The
+		literati stared, and the Boston Advertiser was struck aghast with wonder. What a comment
+		upon the state of letters in America! &#8216;Literary Emporium,&#8217; forsooth! &#8216;Western
+		Athens!&#8217; Medici of Manhattan! how grossly we Yankees do misapply titles! It was the
+		very &#8216;Literary Emporium&#8217; itself that was most astounded at the newly-discovered mine.
+		<span class="special_name">Seatsfield&#8217;s</span> name had overspread civilized Europe; his productions had been dramatized
+		at Munich and Bucharest; they had been translated into Russian and Turkish; the
+		Maltese mariner had learned to solace himself with his &#8216;Twilight Helmsman&#8217;s Hymn,&#8217;
+		and the merchants of Syra and Beyrout adorned their mansions with his bust; yet Boston,
+		New-York, and Philadelphia had never heard his name! In the lack of more minute information
+		with regard to this remarkable man, perhaps the following page or two from a
+		<a class="pagenum" id="page585" title="585">&nbsp;</a>traveller&#8217;s journal may prove acceptable to the public. The absolutely total obscurity of
+		the subject in America, may also, it is hoped, serve as an apology for the openness of detail
+		and apparent breach of etiquette in regard to private intercourse.</p>
+
+		<p class="post_break_small">&#8216;<span class="first_word">It</span> has been my fortune to spend a day in company with the man who of all men has
+		done the most to illustrate our manners and character; yet who, strange to say, is less
+		known than &#8216;Professor&#8217; <span class="special_name">Ingraham</span>. As it was then my fortune to speak <em>with</em> him; I now
+		consider it my duty to speak <em>of</em> him, and to do what little I am able, to extend his name
+		among his compatriots.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;In the spring of the year previous to this, or to be exact, in April, 1843, I found myself
+		at Berlin. My friend, Mr. <span class="special_name">Carlyle</span>, of London, had given me a letter to <span class="special_name">Theodore
+		Mundt</span>, and I had learned soon after my arrival that this distinguished man was in town.
+		I had consequently looked over my letters, after dinner, and had selected the one addressed
+		to <span class="special_name">Mundt</span>, and laid it under a little plaster bust of <span class="special_name">Schiller</span> that stood just over the stove,
+		in the room where I dined. In the evening I walked into the <em lang="de" xml:lang="de">Ermschlagg Buchzimmer</em>.<a href="#footnote_2" id="fnm2" title="A new public library and reading-room in Berlin." class="fnmarker">2</a>
+		Several students were making annotations from huge volumes, and many grave, pale gentlemen
+		were turning over the reviews and periodicals of the day. Among these I recognized
+		an Englishman whom I had fallen in with at Cologne but parted with at Heidelberg.
+		He had been in Berlin three days before me, and I was truly glad to meet with an acquaintance
+		even of so recent a date, to whom I could apply for information or advice as to the
+		best way of seeing the lions. While I was whispering to him, a grim-visaged old Teuton
+		looked up at us with a stern frown, and my friend observed, &#8216;We must retire into the <em lang="de" xml:lang="de">Sprechensaale</em>,
+		or conversation-room.&#8217; As soon as we had entered this adjoining apartment, to
+		the evident satisfaction of the aforesaid grim Teuton, I observed a tall, thin man, of angular
+		and wiry aspect, see-sawing his body in front of the stove, toward which he had turned
+		his back, as he stood in apparently deep cogitation. &#8216;You don&#8217;t know who that is,&#8217; quoth
+		my friend; &#8216;there is <em>one</em> of the lions, to begin with. I found out his name this morning:
+		that is <span class="special_name">Theodore Mundt</span>.&#8217; Struck as I was with the stranger&#8217;s aspect, which appeared
+		to me altogether American, I stared at him till he suddenly raised his dark eyes, and fixed
+		them on mine. To disembarrass myself from my seeming rudeness as politely as possible,
+		I bowed to his gaze, and said inquiringly: &#8216;I have the honor to address Mr. <span class="special_name">Mundt</span>?&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;&#8216;You have the <em>luck</em>,&#8217; he said, &#8216;but the honor is <em>his</em>.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;&#8216;Honors are even, then,&#8217; said I, as brusquely as I dared; and of all animals a traveller
+		is the most impudent. &#8216;I have in my pocket,&#8217; I continued, &#8216;a letter for you from my friend
+		<span class="special_name">Carlyle</span>.&#8217; At the name of <span class="special_name">Carlyle</span> he raised his hands in surprise, then rubbed them
+		with delight, and began to eulogise his friend.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;All this while I was fumbling in my pocket for my letter, when suddenly it flashed over
+		me that I had put it under the bust in the tavern. I grew confused for a moment, and then
+		as Mynheer <span class="special_name">Mundt</span> held out his hand for the letter, I burst into a laugh, and confessed
+		that I had left my letter at home. <span class="special_name">Mundt</span> looked very serious, and quoted from Othello,
+		&#8216;That is a fault;&#8217; and then from Macbeth, &#8216;To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow.&#8217;
+		I thought there was a little affectation in this; perhaps it was merely complimentary; but
+		the immediate result of our imperfect acquaintance was, that I made bold to introduce my
+		friend to <span class="special_name">Mundt</span>, who invited us both to his rooms to supper. On our way thither, as we
+		passed the <em lang="de" xml:lang="de">Brunswik Gasthaus</em>, where I lodged, I stepped in to procure my letter, and
+		<span class="special_name">Mundt</span> appeared rejoiced to hear directly from his &#8216;very <em>fine</em> friend&#8217; <span class="special_name">Carlyle</span>, as he
+		queerly styled him.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;I should feel that I was venturing on forbidden ground were I to reveal more of what
+		passed between us that evening. There was some drawing of corks and some puffing of
+		Hamburg-made Cheroots, which <span class="special_name">Mundt</span> declared to be genuine Oriental; there was a ham
+		of Westphalia, and a bit of La Gruyere. But with all this we have nothing to do. I fear
+		that I have already made my preface too long. Enough be it then to say, that <span class="special_name">Mundt</span>
+		<a class="pagenum" id="page586" title="586">&nbsp;</a>first revealed to me on this occasion (I am ashamed to own it) the name and talents of our
+		countryman <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>. How enthusiastic he was I will not describe; but his enthusiasm
+		could only be equalled by his surprise that I was not familiar with his writings.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;On the next day <span class="special_name">Mundt</span> gave me a letter to <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>, directed to him at Bâsle, in
+		Switzerland, near which he owns a beautiful villa. I did not find him at Bâsle, however,
+		and I proceeded to Milan without delivering my letter. On my return from Italy, I happened
+		to learn that <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> was at Graffenburg in Silesia; and although it was forty
+		leagues from my purposed route I encountered the delay, out of mere curiosity of seeing so
+		distinguished a man. This time I was not disappointed. One day only I spent at Graffenburg,
+		but that day was sufficient to fill me with a truly German (I wish I could say American)
+		admiration of my countryman. Graffenburg, it should be remarked, is the famous scene
+		of Doctor <span class="special_name">Priessnitz&#8217;s</span> wonderful hydropathic cures. Being there only for a single day, I
+		did not think it best to submit in all points to the cold water treatment; neither did <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>,
+		for I noticed that he mixed two table-spoonfuls of gin with every gill of cold water.
+		<span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> is a man of about middle-age, with a penetrating eye, and rather a good
+		form, though not unusually muscular. His face bears a remarkable resemblance to the
+		pictures of <span class="special_name">Numa Pompilius</span>; the benign smile of each is the same. His chin is round and
+		full, although partially concealed by a slight beard; his nose, which is of a truly German
+		outline, is marked by the &#8216;dilated nostril of genius;&#8217; and his whole aspect is that of a
+		thorough man of the world. I will continue my reminiscence by extracting verbatim a
+		page or so from my imperfect, though as far as it goes, authentic diary. I am convinced
+		however that his remarks will lose much from the want of his pointed manner of enunciation.
+		His English was faultless, and he spoke as well as if he had never been out of
+		America. Very few Americans indeed, and no British-Islanders, talk so correct and chaste
+		a dialect.</p>
+
+
+		<h3 class="subtitle">EXTRACT FROM MY JOURNAL.</h3>
+
+
+		<p style="text-align:right;"><span class="dateline">Graffenburg, July 4, 1844.</span></p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">I was</span> very fortunate, they tell me, to find <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> in so companionable a mood.
+		He appeared in high spirits, and was exceedingly conversible. The glorious return of our
+		national anniversary had a visible effect upon him. I presented my letter to him last evening,
+		but he was weary, and retired early. When I first met him in the Upper Bath-room
+		Walk, this morning, he congratulated me upon the brightness and brilliancy of the day.
+		&#8216;You have much to be thankful for, Sir,&#8217; he observed; &#8216;the day is perfectly American.
+		Just such a sun as this is now dawning upon Broadway and the Battery. The sound of
+		India-crackers and the pleasant smell of lobsters is already perceptible to the senses of the
+		awakening Manhattanese.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;Boston, too, my native city,&#8217; I observed, &#8216;is also alive to the holiday influences. Boston
+		Common I dare say is already white with tents, and the fragrant commerce of the booths
+		is just commencing on the Mall.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: &#8216;Yes, Sir; but Boston and Philadelphia both fail in developing the true
+		character-stamp-work (<em lang="de" xml:lang="de">character-stampfen-werk</em>) of the day. To see the Fourth of July in
+		its glory, one should visit New-York. To my senses, which are uncommonly acute, there
+		is a peculiar smell about the Fourth of July in New-York, which differs in toto from that
+		of any other holiday.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;In Boston we also have the perfume of lobsters and egg-pop blended with that of orange-peel
+		and pine-apple&#8212;&#8212;&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: &#8216;That, Sir, is but a feeble rationale of the New-York savor. I have
+		often, in a jocose mood, amused myself with analyzing this odor. I have resolved it into
+		the following elements: lobsters, gunpowder, trampled-grass, wheel-grease, and cigars.
+		It is mainly to these ingredients, grafted upon the other ordinary city smells, that I attribute
+		the Fourth of July smell.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;There is one that you have failed to detect; namely, a faint whiff of barn-yards, owing
+		I presume to the strong prevalence of farmers and other rustics from the surrounding country.&#8217;
+		<a class="pagenum" id="page587" title="587">&nbsp;</a><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> smiled at this, and acknowledged, in a laughing way, an occasional intimation
+		of manure. &#8216;Graffenburg,&#8217; I observed, &#8216;is remarkably free from all strong odors;
+		it is a very clean village.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: &#8216;That, Sir, is owing to the water: depend upon it, wherever water prevails
+		neatness will ensue. Temperance and cleanliness go hand in hand. The ancients
+		were a filthy race, and they were great wine-bibbers. What a condition of personal and
+		mental nastiness is divulged by <span class="special_name">Horace</span> in his &#8216;Iter ad Brundusium;&#8217; yet <span class="special_name">Horace</span> was a
+		choice specimen of a Roman gentleman.&#8217;               </p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;Have you had any poets among you here? or is the hydropathic system too repugnant
+		to their art?&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: &#8216;Our countryman, <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span>, was here not long since. I sat at table
+		with him frequently; but never introduced myself to him.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;Do you think highly of his powers?&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: &#8216;As a prolific generator of novel life-images, no; but as a vivid delineator
+		of the inner-thought principle, as an artistical displayer of the higher subjective mood, he
+		is of the very first class. I honor <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span>.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;He is perhaps our smoothest versifier, next to <span class="special_name">Halleck</span>.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: &#8216;Nay, he is the only one among us who can combine extreme polish and
+		the utmost facility of flow with deep-seated reflection.&#8217; <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> then quoted, with a
+		sublime energy, from the celebrated &#8216;Psalm of Life:&#8217;</p>
+
+		<div class="poem">
+			<div class="stanza">
+				<p>&#8216;&#8216;<span class="first_word">Not</span> enjoyment and not sorrow</p>
+				<p class="i2">Is our destined end or way,</p>
+				<p>But to act, that each to-morrow</p>
+				<p class="i2">Find us farther than to-day.</p>
+			</div>
+
+			<div class="stanza">
+				<p>&#8216;In the world&#8217;s broad field of battle,</p>
+				<p class="i2">In the bivouac of life,</p>
+				<p>Be not like dumb driven cattle,</p>
+				<p class="i2">Be a hero in the strife.</p>
+			</div>
+
+			<div class="stanza">
+				<p>&#8216;Trust no Future, howe&#8217;er pleasant,</p>
+				<p class="i2">Let the dead Past, bury its dead;</p>
+				<p>Act, act in the glorious Present,</p>
+				<p class="i2">Heart within and <span class="special_name">God</span> o&#8217;er head.&#8217;&#8217;</p>
+			</div>
+		</div>
+
+		<p>&#8216;You give the poet a great advantage,&#8217; I said, &#8216;in quoting his very finest production, and
+		picking out the choicest stanzas. Beside, his theme here is one of so general a nature, and
+		so familiar to philosophy, that it would be hard for any one to moralize upon it in verse
+		without accidentally hitting upon some sublimity. The commonest intellect has lofty and
+		awful thoughts whenever it gives way to serious meditation upon our mortality.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: &#8216;That is partly true; but <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span> is not only great upon that
+		ground. His realm is very extensive. No man has the power (had he only the will) of
+		depicting the simplicity of every-day life and objects with more grace or comprehensiveness.
+		There are some touches in his &#8216;Village Blacksmith&#8217; inexpressibly beautiful, and
+		worthy of <span class="special_name">Burns&#8217;</span> &#8216;Cotter&#8217;s Saturday Night:&#8217;</p>
+
+		<div class="poem">
+			<div class="stanza">
+			<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">His</span> hair is crisp and black and long,</p>
+			<p class="i2">His face is like the tan;</p>
+			<p>His brow is wet with honest sweat,</p>
+			<p class="i2">He earns whate&#8217;er he can,&#8217; etc.</p>
+			</div>
+		</div>
+		<p>And then again:</p>
+
+
+		<div class="poem">
+			<div class="stanza">
+				<p>&#8216;He goes on Sunday to the Church,</p>
+				<p class="i2">And sits among the boys;</p>
+				<p>He hears the parson pray and preach,</p>
+				<p class="i2">He hears his daughter&#8217;s voice</p>
+				<p>Singing in the gallery,</p>
+				<p class="i2">And it makes his heart rejoice.&#8217;</p>
+			</div>
+		</div>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> repeated these verses with much emotion; and I observed that a tear stood
+		upon his lids. I therefore turned the conversation upon hydropathy, and introduced a quotation
+		from <span class="special_name">Pindar</span>: <span title="ariston men hydôr">αρὶστον μὲν ὕδωρ</span>, <em>etc.</em></p>
+
+		<p><a class="pagenum" id="page588" title="588">&nbsp;</a><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: &#8216;<span class="special_name">Pindar</span>, Sir, has expressed a great truth; but I think that <span class="special_name">Pierpont</span>
+		has expressed it better. In his exquisite &#8216;Ode on the Opening of the Marlborough Temperance-House&#8217;
+		how beautifully he says, after speaking in regard to the virtues of cold water:</p>
+
+		<div class="poem">
+			<div class="stanza">
+				<p>&#8216;Oh! had <span class="special_name">Eve&#8217;s</span> hair</p>
+				<p class="i2">Been dressed in gin,</p>
+				<p>Would she have been</p>
+				<p class="i2">Reflected fair?&#8217;</p>
+			</div>
+		</div>
+
+		<p>&#8216;And then, after describing the beauty of Eden, with its rills and pellucid brooks bubbling
+		through the fresh meads, he goes on:</p>
+
+		<div class="poem">
+			<div class="stanza">
+				<p>&#8216;Are not pure springs</p>
+				<p class="i2">And chrystal wells</p>
+				<p>The very things</p>
+				<p class="i2">For our Hotels?&#8217;</p>
+			</div>
+		</div>
+
+		<p>&#8216;That, Sir, is excellent, and the somewhat homely imagery only enhances in my mind the
+		truth of the sentiment. <span class="special_name">Pierpont</span>, Sir, is a very great man.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;As great as <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span>?&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: &#8216;No, Sir, perhaps not; there is a considerable difference of calibre between
+		them. I should say now that <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span> was a first-rate artist with a second-rate
+		imagination, and that <span class="special_name">Pierpont</span> was only a second-rate artist with a first-rate fancy.
+		There is no mistake in <span class="special_name">Pierpont</span>.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>I smiled at <span class="special_name">Seatsfield&#8217;s</span> affectation of Americanisms, as if out of compliment to myself,
+		or in honor of the day; and I rejoined: &#8216;There may be no mistake in <span class="special_name">Pierpont</span>, but there
+		is one or two in <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span>.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: &#8216;Grammatical or prosodiacal?&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;Neither; but in the beginning of his &#8216;Psalm of Life,&#8217; he says:</p>
+
+
+		<div class="poem">
+			<div class="stanza">
+				<p>&#8216;Tell me not in mournful numbers</p>
+				<p class="i2">Life is but an empty dream;</p>
+				<p>For the soul is dead that slumbers,</p>
+				<p class="i2">And things are not what they seem.&#8217;</p>
+			</div>
+		</div>
+
+		<p>&#8216;Here he evidently meant things <em>are</em> what they seem; for in the next stanza he goes on to
+		say:</p>
+
+		<div class="poem">
+			<div class="stanza">
+				<p>&#8216;Life is real, life is earnest,</p>
+				<p class="i2">And the grave is not its goal;</p>
+				<p>&#8216;Dust thou art, to dust returnest,&#8217;</p>
+				<p class="i2">Was not written of the soul.&#8217;</p>
+			</div>
+		</div>
+
+		<p>Consequently, if life <em>is</em> real and earnest, and the soul is incapable of mortality, things <em>must
+		be</em> what they seem, and the soul <em>cannot</em> be dead that slumbers. And if the soul <em>is</em> dead
+		that slumbers, and things are <em>not</em> really what they seem to be, life <em>is</em> indeed an empty
+		dream.&#8217; <span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span> looked puzzled at this.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: &#8216;You are somewhat hypercritical. Great thoughts must not be trimmed
+		to the exact dialect of business-men. <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span> reveals important truths; he utters
+		what is pent within him from the impulse of utterance: he tells us that &#8216;Art is long and
+		Time is fleeting;&#8217; now some arts are not long, and time often drags heavily. It will not
+		do to be too precise in poetry.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;But is that sentiment original? Does not one of the ancients say, &#8216;<em lang="la" xml:lang="la">Ars longa, vita brevis</em>?&#8217;
+		and does not that come pretty near to <span class="special_name">Longfellow&#8217;s</span> idea?&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Seatsfield</span>: &#8216;Yes, Sir, but that is a little criticism which picks out words. <span class="special_name">Longfellow</span>,
+		or yourself, or any other man, would have arrived at the same conclusion, even had
+		the ancient author never written it.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p class="post_break_small">&#8216;We were here interrupted by a call to luncheon; and I take advantage of the break
+		in my journal, to bring this article to a close. More of the <span class="special_name">Seatsfieldiana</span> I reserve for
+		another number, provided the public are not already glutted.&#8217;</p>
+
+	</div>
+
+	<div class="ed_table_item">
+		<p><a class="pagenum" id="page589" title="589">&nbsp;</a><span class="ed_table_title">Magazine Writing</span>.&#8212;We know not how we can better evince our appreciation of the
+		kind and flattering comments of a Southern correspondent, who will at once recognize our
+		allusion, than by citing the somewhat kindred remarks of an old and favorite contributor,
+		now passed away from earth. It was a pleasing matter, he said, to sit down with the proper
+		afflatus stirring within him, to write an article for a Magazine. &#8216;If the work has a
+		general prevalence; if its fame is rife on good men&#8217;s tongues, the inspiration is the stronger.
+		One says to himself, how many friends of mine will overlook these very lucubrations, perceive
+		my initials, and recognize my name? How many pleasing associations will thus be
+		awakened, and peradventure commendatory remarks expressed, concerning my powers?
+		What a <em lang="la" xml:lang="la">quid pro quo</em> for wakeful nights, emendations of phrases, the choosing of words,
+		and toilsome revision! The other day,&#8217; he continues, &#8216;while reading the proof-sheet of my
+		article in the last <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>, I fell into a train of reflection upon the large amount
+		of care and labor which must be entailed upon the publisher and editor of an original Magazine.
+		Some one has observed, that when we listen to an exquisite opera, or any elaborate
+		and intricate piece of music, we think not how vast were the pains and attention bestowed
+		upon every note and cadence; what efforts for perfection in a solo, what panting for a warble,
+		what travail for a trill! Taken separately, and at rehearsals, in disjointed fragments
+		of sound, how different are they from that volume of sweet concords which is produced
+		when they are all breathed forth in order, to the accompaniment of flutes and recorders, in
+		one full gush of melody! This is just like a Magazine. How many minds does it engage!
+		Cherished thoughts and cherished feelings, polished or sublimated, there find utterance, and
+		demand that honor and deference to which they are entitled. In his beautiful Introduction
+		to the Harleian Miscellany, <span class="special_name">Johnson</span> sets forth the necessity and benefit of similar
+		writings, with reasons as conclusive as the language in which they are expressed is
+		chaste and strong. In a country like ours, where the vast population move by common
+		impulse; think promptly, are enlightened with ease, and turn to the best account that
+		knowledge which is received with the greatest facility; are inspired with sacred and patriotic
+		feelings from the bar, the senate, the pulpit, and the press; it is important and just
+		that the readiest methods and means of instructive moral amusement should be the most
+		esteemed and the best supported. I confess I never look into a Magazine, that I do not
+		liken it to a large and pure reservoir of refreshing waters; derived from many streams,
+		and prankt around its borders with the flowers and garniture of poesy; possessing qualities
+		agreeable to every taste&#8212;the grave, the solid, the scientific, the light, the gay. It is a
+		map of the higher moods of life. It conveys a sustenance with the relish of pleasure. All
+		who favor it with their productions have different tastes and faculties of mind. Each one
+		endeavors to do the best with his theme. He ornaments it in diction, or tasks his fancy,
+		or explores the secrets of science, or illustrates the events and scenes of his country: he
+		excites broad-mouthed laughter, by salutary jest and pun; he expatiates in pathetic sentences,
+		or murmurs in the mellow cadence of song; or arouses interest by the embellishments
+		wherewith history is refined, and which shed a light over the dim annals of the past,
+		making them to smile,</p>
+
+
+		<div class="poem">
+			<div class="stanza">
+				<p>&#8212;&#8212;&#8216;even as the radiant glow,</p>
+				<p>Kindling rich woods, whereon the etherial bow</p>
+				<p>Sleeps lovingly awhile.&#8217;</p>
+			</div>
+		</div>
+
+		<p>&#8216;Now what I thought beside, while looking over my proof, was this: that a &#8216;circulating
+		medium,&#8217; through which so many minds communicated their thoughts, produced and
+		clothed with befitting language in solitary labor; smoothed, strengthened, or harmonized by
+		revision, and rendered impressive by those helps and researches of which every <em>readable</em>
+		writer must avail himself; such a medium, I say, merits the esteem and respect of all. It
+		deserves not to be taken up for judgment, at a momentary glance, by the undiscerning
+		eye of careless inquiry. It should be read impartially, and spoken of, in all worthy points,
+		with praise; in faulty ones, with tenderness. Our literature, I take it, is not yet a sufficiently
+		<a class="pagenum" id="page590" title="590">&nbsp;</a>flowery pursuit, to enable any of its votaries to sow its walks with brambles. By
+		its influence, <em>the country</em> is to be mentally illustrated; the clanking shackles of transatlantic
+		humbug are to be thrown off; and the establishment of wholesome feelings, and reliance
+		upon our own intellectual resources, firmly effected. I love to see the general press engaged
+		now and then in cheering onward the laborers in the more unfrequented and toilsome
+		avenues of our literary vineyard. It sends a <span class="special_name">God</span>-speed to the bosoms of those whose travails
+		are more for their country than themselves; and who are content, in anonymous
+		pride, to believe, that it heralds that bright day of mental refinement which will ere long,
+		among the freest and noblest confederacy of nations on earth, irradiate the utmost borders
+		of that holy circumference,</p>
+
+		<p class="centered_line">&#8216;Our Native Land!&#8217;</p>
+
+	</div>
+
+	<div class="ed_table_item">
+		<p><span class="ed_table_title">A thrust with a two-edged Weapon</span>.&#8212;We rather incline to the opinion that the
+		&#8216;complainant below&#8217; is infringing the law which forbids the use of concealed weapons;
+		that are not the less to be guarded against, certainly, when as in the present case they cut
+		both ways. But our readers shall judge: <span class="special_name">Dear Editor</span>: The country, strange as it may
+		appear, has peculiar and permanent inhabitants; neither dressing in skins, nor wearing
+		their own feathers, but habited after the glimpses of fashion which reach them through
+		their trees. As we have never yet met with a man who was so fortunate as to have no relations,
+		we take it for granted that all city-zens, yourself among the rest, have country-cousins.
+		Think of the countless multitudes that turn their longing eyes in the direction of
+		a metropolis like this, yearning for a visit, and sending off by frequent <em>Opportunities</em>, never
+		by mail, those remarkable epistolary compounds of hopes and wants which no other race of
+		beings can compose in perfection: &#8216;Hope <span class="special_name">John</span> is well, and <span class="special_name">Betsey</span> will come and see us
+		next summer; and want&#8217;&#8212;<span class="special_name">Lawson</span> and <span class="special_name">Stewart</span>! what do they <em>not</em> want? Every
+		thing; from twenty yards of silk down to a penny&#8217;s-worth of tape. The letters run somewhat
+		in this guise, though less poetically:</p>
+
+		<div class="poem">
+			<div class="stanza">
+				<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">Cousin John</span>, please to send down to-morrow,</p>
+				<p class="i4">At eight, by the Scarborough mail,</p>
+				<p>&#8216;Claudine, or the Victim of Sorrow,&#8217;</p>
+				<p class="i4">Don Juan, two mops and a pail;</p>
+				<p>Six ounces of Bohea from <span class="special_name">Twining&#8217;s</span>,</p>
+				<p class="i4">A peg-top, a Parmesan cheese,</p>
+				<p>Some rose-colored sarcenet, for linings,</p>
+				<p class="i4">A stew-pan, and <span class="special_name">Stevenson&#8217;s</span> Glees;</p>
+				<p>A song ending &#8216;Hey-noni-noni,&#8217;</p>
+				<p class="i4">A chair with a cover of chintz,</p>
+				<p>A mummy dug up by <span class="special_name">Belzoni</span>,</p>
+				<p class="i4">A skein of white worsted from <span class="special_name">Flint&#8217;s</span>.&#8217;</p>
+			</div>
+		</div>
+
+		<p>Half the things that are sent for, they might buy at their own doors. Again and again we
+		have known them put in commission and procure from an oppressed relative the identical
+		productions of a manufactory within a mile of them. A singular virtue seems to abide in
+		all that comes from the sunny side of Broadway.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;You perhaps may not know what an <span class="special_emphasis">Opportunity</span> is. In love affairs you have undoubtedly
+		experienced that it is every thing; but in rural affairs it is more. It is the common-carrier
+		of a village. So soon as an inhabitant has expressed his intention of going to town,
+		he becomes an Opportunity, and like a Chinese, liable to pains and penalties for leaving
+		his native place. From every quarter pour in letters, bundles, and packages, which are to
+		be carried with care and delivered with despatch. No thanks for his trouble, if they should
+		reach their destination, and a general liability for the uncertain value of their contents if
+		they should chance to be lost. So that an Opportunity&#8217;s advent in town ought to be announced
+		in this way: &#8216;Arrived, <span class="special_name">Hiram Doolittle</span>, from Connecticut, with m&#8217;dze to
+		<a class="pagenum" id="page591" title="591">&nbsp;</a><span class="special_name">Legion and Company</span>.&#8217; The Opportunity not only transports, but acts as General Agent.
+		Commissions are given him for a return freight. Hats, coats, dresses, are much wanted,
+		which he is expected to select with taste, and to purchase cheap. Even the labyrinth of
+		houses does not protect him from the Argus eyes of his consignees. They seek him out and
+		insist upon his turning himself into a United States&#8217; mail and a <span class="special_name">Harnden&#8217;s</span> express. It is
+		not a week since we heard a consignee&#8217;s friend&#8217;s friend request an Opportunity to carry
+		home a loaf of sugar to his country correspondent.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;Perhaps, Friend <span class="special_name">Knick.</span>, we are wounding your feelings all this time, tender by reason
+		of many cousins and commissions; but we can assure you that we have an infinite respect
+		for all relationship, and are rather blessed than bored by the requisitions of our own rural
+		branches. We trust, however, that your rustic kith and kin do not come upon your house
+		in the spring, in shoals like the shad. Unhappy editor, if it be so; for until the day predicted
+		by <span class="special_name">Alphonse Karr</span>, when connexions shall be cooked and <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">côtelettes d&#8217;oncle à la Béchamel</em>
+		and <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">têtes de cousin en tortue</em> shall smoke lovingly upon the table, there is nothing for
+		you but to submit to your Fates, or to give up your house-keeping. But with country cozens,
+		those provincials who are not bone of your bone, and who nevertheless at every visit to
+		town call upon you with an eager look and covetous smile, as if to say, &#8216;Ask us to dinner,
+		we once invited you to tea,&#8217; there is but one method to pursue; the cut&#8212;the firm, unwavering,
+		direct cut. Do not pretend not to see them, or to look fixedly in another direction,
+		but give them the vacant, absent stare, as if you saw around them, and through them, and
+		the image before you excited neither attention nor recollection. There are no terms to be
+		kept with them. Their Shibboleth is not yours.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;In the &#8216;Absentee,&#8217; a London fashionable lady, Mrs. <span class="special_name">Dazeville</span>, goes to Ireland, and is
+		hospitably received by Lady <span class="special_name">Clonbrony</span>, stays a month at her country-house, and is as
+		intimate with Lady <span class="special_name">Clonbrony</span> and her niece Miss <span class="special_name">Nugent</span>, as possible; and yet when
+		Lady <span class="special_name">Clonbrony</span> comes to London, never takes the least notice of her. At length, meeting
+		at the house of a common friend, Mrs. <span class="special_name">Dazeville</span> cannot avoid recognizing her, but
+		does it in the least civil manner possible: &#8216;Ah, Lady <span class="special_name">Clonbrony</span>! Did not know you
+		were in England! How long shall you stay in town? Hope before you leave England
+		you will give us a day.&#8217; Lady <span class="special_name">Clonbrony</span> is so astonished at this ingratitude, that she
+		remains silent; but Miss <span class="special_name">Nugent</span> answers quite coolly, and with a smile: &#8216;A day? certainly,
+		to you who gave us a month.&#8217; Miss <span class="special_name">Edgeworth</span> evidently considers this a capital
+		story; and we have no doubt that many stupid people who have read it consider it an
+		excellent hit; but we can assure them that they know nothing of the woods and fields. It
+		is a great favor to make people in the country a visit. It relieves them from the tiresome
+		monotony of their rose-bushes and chickens; and by the active exertions in planning
+		breakfasts and dinners, and making the one ride through the valley last for three afternoons,
+		infuses if possible a certain degree of mental activity into their lives, which must
+		be far from disagreeable to them. A cit too is in a certain degree a lion. The oldest town-jokes
+		are as new in the country as last year&#8217;s ribbons; and the neighbors gather together
+		to view with delight a face that they have not seen every Sunday for the last fifty-two
+		weeks, and are only too happy to engage the Novelty at a &#8216;Tea.&#8217; But when they come
+		to town, what can you do with them? Who the devil wants to see them? Your friends
+		care little enough for you, still less for your agricultural acquaintances. You cannot bring
+		yourself to go to <span class="special_name">Peale&#8217;s</span> Museum, or to see the talking-machine; and tickets at the opera
+		are dear, unless you stand up.  As we said before, you must cut them, or</p>
+
+
+		<div class="poem">
+			<div class="stanza">
+				<p>&#8216;If you are a little man,</p>
+				<p>Not big enough for that,&#8217;</p>
+			</div>
+		</div>
+
+		<p>you must try to have them arrested as soon as they arrive, as disturbers of domestic peace,
+		and confined in the Tombs during the whole of their intended stay. If the Legislature sat in
+		New-York instead of in a <em>country city</em>, they would pass some law similar to the South Carolina
+		free-black law, confining all rural visitors, or at least making those liable to an indictment
+		for false pretences, who claim acquaintance with the &#8216;people of the whirlpool.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p><a class="pagenum" id="page592" title="592">&nbsp;</a>&#8216;If it were only for once, one might ask all his <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">rats des champs</em> to meet one another at a Tea.
+		This might be amusing, if the jest did not grow painful by repetition. There is no reciprocity
+		in your dealings with such invitees. You will probably never again reach their Siberian
+		settlement, whereas they come to town three times a year! It is not fair. It is a
+		base cheat. How can they be so ungenerous and illiberal as to accuse you of neglect and
+		ingratitude for not cultivating them when in the city? They might as well abuse you for
+		not having a green-house! This doctrine of ours is so clearly reasonable, that all people
+		of any breeding admit its truth, and act accordingly. You may stay a week at a country-seat,
+		and need make no acknowledgments of any kind to the owner thereof in his town-house;
+		whereas a dinner in the city is a debt of honor, which must be paid. This is a
+		well settled law. Not that your obligation is by any means cancelled. It is not dead, but
+		dormant. Next summer you will feel deep gratitude for the kindness you received during
+		the last; but no such indebtedness is payable in urbanity. <span class="special_name">George Selwyn</span> met in St.
+		James-street, London, a man whom he had known very well in Bath, and passed steadily by
+		him without a look of recognition. His acquaintance followed him, and said: &#8216;Sir, you
+		knew me very well in Bath.&#8217; &#8216;Well, Sir,&#8217; replied <span class="special_name">Selwyn</span>, &#8216;in Bath I may possibly know
+		you again.&#8217; Farewell.</p>
+
+	</div>
+
+	<div class="ed_table_item">
+
+		<p><span class="ed_table_title">Another &#8216;pellet&#8217; from Julian.</span>&#8212;Not a word is necessary by way of introduction
+		to the ensuing passages from an epistle lately received from our esteemed friend and correspondent
+		<span class="special_name">Julian</span>. Happy husband of a happy wife and happier mother! Happy father!
+		may his joy never be less: &#8216;We are in the country! When you write this way, say &#8216;To
+		the care of &#8212;&#8212; &#8212;&#8212;, Esq.&#8217;, for we are designedly three miles from post-offices and newsboys.
+		I have given warning that if any of the latter come within my grounds with his
+		French things, I will souse him in the river, and hold him there till he shall be thoroughly
+		chilled into a dislike of these parts. You will readily imagine why we are here. The
+		excitements and distractions of city life for the last few months were too much for us, and
+		there are some things that can only be enjoyed apart from the world. Here, we subside
+		gradually and gracefully from that high and tense delirium from which I at least made
+		my aërials, always coming back, however, to young <span class="special_name">Julian</span>; who, by the way, is another
+		occasion for country life, as I have great faith in first impressions, and I wish his to be
+		bright and beautiful. Heaven preserve him from all darker colors; from the doubts, the
+		glooms, the moral mistiness of your city atmosphere! Let no fog come between him and
+		the bright sky, till he has well discovered that there is a heaven beyond, where there is
+		neither cloud nor shadow, and up to which not one grain of all this dust and filth of the
+		earth&#8217;s whirling shall ever reach. It is quite enough that we are in sight and hearing of
+		your great Babels; the jarring of their daily strife and the smoke of their torments. A
+		lively and dashing river rolls between us, going off at a hand-gallop among rocky islands,
+		over which we see their spires pointing up like electric-rods to avert the wrath that might
+		otherwise descend upon them; and mingling with the dash of waters, we hear now and
+		then their petty alarms, their steamers and fire-bells, and the dozen other occasions upon
+		which they see fit to make a great noise in the world; but the travelled sound has a courtliness
+		that is rather pleasant than otherwise; and as a key-note to our mocking-birds, it is
+		quite worthy of the sweet south that brings it up. Whenever there is any sudden ebullition
+		that cannot be pared down to the common air, we are made aware of it by a cannonading
+		that is doubtless very considerable down there, but for any thing so ambitiously meant, it
+		sounds here very miserable; a wretched attempt at notoriety, of which the most noticeable
+		is the smoke of their powder. And so with all their sky-flourishing and rocketing, which
+		we look at as at a falling star; pretty, no doubt, but not in our way. Every morning a railroad
+		train starts out, and approaching within a mile, disappears among the hills with a slight
+		buzzing and squibbing, like the fly on the window; and then after it has gone, as we suppose,
+		<a class="pagenum" id="page593" title="593">&nbsp;</a>there is another squib, very smart and snappish, and we hear nothing more of it till
+		the train comes down, frets a little again as it passes by, and goes on to discharge its contents
+		in the great city. To all these things we say, &#8216;Pass on!&#8217; the world is various, and
+		must be amused; but for us, we respectfully withdraw. We have had enough of the intense;
+		we now welcome the trifling, appropriating however as much of the serious as we
+		care to admit in our still life. When the Sabbath comes round, there are seven bells that
+		reach us, each with its separate voice; and these, with falling waters, and the morning
+		incense going up from the hill-sides, are as much of &#8216;mass&#8217; as we care to have in our
+		worship. But we have a ready ear for all sweet sounds, and need no glasses to appreciate
+		the beautiful. Sunrise and sunset; the grouping of clouds; the blue haze that now and
+		then lies on the landscape, all one with my cigar-smoke; and the storms and lightnings of
+		the young summer, so spitefully beautiful; all these, with whatever of glory there may be
+		in the still watches of the night, find their place in our picture-gallery; but we leave them
+		as <span class="special_name">God</span> made them, and add no tint to their coloring.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;You are aware that the sun rises as per almanac. This is common; and so common,
+		so much an every-day affair, that he gets very little credit therefor; and yet, that he will
+		rise with great exactness, aside from all human calculation, and go on traversing the sky
+		with a wonderful regularity that nothing can stop, is a very pleasant fact touching the prospect
+		of to-morrow; and so also, that every thing in nature will be wrought with marvellous
+		beauty and harmonies of sound; and oh! most satisfactory of all, there will still be
+		an air that properly inhaled fills the <em>heart</em> as well as the lungs. It is from a calm consideration
+		of this fact, that we have done with the <em>eagerness</em> of pleasure. No daily counting of
+		hours to see that all have been properly brimmed; no grasping at a dozen things at once;
+		no draining of the very dregs, lest that may be the last bottle, and we die to-morrow. But
+		thankful as we are for to-morrow, and especially grateful for to-day, we don&#8217;t care for
+		noon-marks. We have kept no count lately, and for aught we know, Time may have
+		stopped, but probably not. He is doubtless somewhere about, but we take no particular
+		notice. Our watches have run down, and we care not to wind them again. The hours,
+		if there are any, are all golden, and we have no occasion to note the passage one to the
+		other; or if we start them, just to see the motion, they run on diamonds of the purest water;
+		but mostly, whether it be morn, or mid-day, or the starry night, Sabbath or week-day, it is
+		all one&#8212;all beautiful. Does it rain? It is quite proper. The earth needs it, no doubt,
+		and it will look the more grateful therefor. Does it shine? Why then the birds will sing,
+		and if they will come a little nearer, we will teach them that charming air from the last
+		opera. Does a new star come out in heaven, or an old one disappear? The one will be
+		an added glory, and the other not much missed; but they will little concern our astronomy.
+		Expect no more rhapsodies, my friend, unless it be upon the wonderful ease with which
+		every thing can be done without them. That we find all things pleasant, is the extent of
+		our poetry. It is pleasant to wake; it is pleasant to sleep; it is pleasant to wake and sleep
+		again; pleasant to watch the opening lid, and pleasant the smile that follows it; pleasant
+		are kind words and tones, the touch of hands, and the touch of lips; the breath of flowers
+		and those that love them; pleasant are the thousand infinitesimals, like the motes of the
+		sun-beam, not less bright because of their minuteness; and pleasant the thought that sufficient
+		as this heaven may be, there is another one above. And doubtless it is pleasant to
+		breathe as usual, and feel the heart send round its currents with a touch of joy; but oh,
+		pleasanter than all, to have no sigh or throb, to remind you that that breath must one day
+		stop, and that warm blood turn cold. Oh! in the &#8216;time&#8217; that is set apart &#8216;for all things,&#8217;
+		may heaven look kindly on and count these trifling hours!</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;Shall we ever leave this charming retreat? Certainly not, while these things last; but
+		it is not impossible that we may return with the cold weather. Meanwhile, I have made a
+		chalk-mark about the grounds, and as yet nothing with a bite or sting has passed over it.
+		Mrs. <span class="special_name">Julian</span>, as she now insists upon being called, has become highly contemplative; and
+		if I did not know that she was never so happy before, I should think her sometimes a little
+		<a class="pagenum" id="page594" title="594">&nbsp;</a>sad; she is so quiet, so demure, and so eternally bewitched with that boy! Why Sir, she
+		will sit for half a day over the fellow, amusing herself and him with I know not what
+		varieties and wonders of invention; with lullabies and ditties and homœopathies of language;
+		and if he condescend to sleep for a few moments, how divinely still must every
+		thing be! What infinite care is there in pinning the screen; what fortifications are built
+		round about him; and what a world of protection in every movement! And then, when
+		all is complete, she must still sit there, with that strange upward look which she has acquired
+		lately, seeming to reach quite beyond the stars. She is a strange woman! Yesterday,
+		having dined rather late, I happened to forget myself for a few moments on the lounge;
+		and on waking, I found her kneeling before me, and looking up in my face with an expression
+		that to me is peculiarly embarrassing; not the quick, joyous look, followed as quickly
+		by the touch of lips; not that, but something quite indescribable. Perhaps I am not as
+		considerate as I ought to be on such occasions, for doubtless she knows what she would be
+		at, but I confess I do not. Indeed, she is constantly bringing out new points and flourishes,
+		which to me are all vowels of the Hebrew; no doubt very sweet and musical, and certainly
+		very necessary to the sense of the reading, but they are past all finding out. When
+		she dazzles me with these brilliants, I sometimes reply in the Tartar, and so we are quits.</p>
+
+		<p>&#8216;Young <span class="special_name">Julian</span> developes slowly. He has smiled once or twice, but in a manner so
+		precocious, that it would be alarming, if he were at all delicate. Fortunately he is not.
+		His utterance as yet is quite unintelligible, though no doubt he has his meaning. To Mrs.
+		<span class="special_name">Julian</span> it is all poetry. &#8216;<em lang="la" xml:lang="la">Poeta nascitur</em>&#8217; may be quite true, but if he rhymes, which is
+		quite possible to her ear, I am constrained to think that it is entirely accidental. I hope,
+		at least, that he is not so viciously gifted. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">Have</span> I told you that she refuses a nurse,
+		and that too pretty sharply? Well, that is not all; I can hardly touch the boy myself.
+		She is so afraid I shall crush it! My raptures, she says, are not becoming; she even says
+		that I &#8216;frighten the child!&#8217; But she is the strangest of women! Last night, happening to
+		wake some time in the small hours, I heard a slight noise in the room, and emerging from
+		a dream, in which I remembered to have heard a good deal of crying and hushing, I listened
+		intently for some moments, but couldn&#8217;t for my life guess what it could be. There
+		was nothing moving in the room, and the sound appeared to arise from some slow and uniform
+		movement, so that it couldn&#8217;t be the wind on the shutters; and if the mocking-birds
+		had been sufficiently awake to swing, as they sometimes do, they would certainly have
+		dropped a word or two, for they are great talkers. Now I often hear bells, fire-arms, and
+		exclamations, and very often hear my name called, and questions asked, to which I reply
+		in due form, all which I <em>know</em> at the time to be imaginary; but this sound, though it seemed
+		to be familiar, I couldn&#8217;t make out. I was so drowsy, however, that I had half a mind
+		to consider it a dream; but then what if any thing should happen? I should be responsible.
+		Rising, therefore, very carefully, not to disturb Mrs. J., I discovered by the shaded light
+		on the table that she was quite sound asleep; but what was wonderful, her right arm, outside
+		the bed, was moving up and down with the regularity of a pendulum! What the
+		deuce was all that? Well, Sir, I bent over breathlessly, and found she was pulling at a
+		string! And what, O <span class="special_name">Editor</span>! who ought to know every thing, what do you think she
+		was pulling? Why, Sir, she was pulling at young <span class="special_name">Julian&#8217;s</span> cradle. She was rocking the
+		baby in her sleep! Oh!&#8217;</p>
+
+
+
+		<p class="post_break_small"><span class="first_word">Apropos</span> of &#8216;the baby&#8217;: an agreeable correspondent, from whom we shall be happy to hear
+		&#8216;frequently if not oftener,&#8217; intimates to us that our friend <span class="special_name">Julian</span>, when the &#8216;lactiferous
+		animalcule&#8217; whose advent into this breathing world he lately described in such glowing
+		terms, shall have reached a more mature babyhood, may find occasion to &#8216;change the paternal
+		note;&#8217; and he cites for us the following passage, from an essay by a sometime contributor
+		to the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>, &#8216;in justification of his fears:&#8217;</p>
+
+		<blockquote>
+			<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">In</span> my bachelor visitations to my married friends, I have often chuckled over the bashfulness,
+			contending with love, which distinguishes the <span class="small_all_caps">YOUNG FATHER</span>. In the pride of his heart, perhaps,
+			<a class="pagenum" id="page595" title="595">&nbsp;</a>when his little man has first given evidence of that degree of mental exertion called &#8216;taking notice,&#8217; he
+			clasps the crowing baby in his arms; he rests its lily feet upon his knees; he endures with philosophic
+			patience all the &#8216;gouging,&#8217; and pulling, and kicking, with which the young hero may testify his
+			triumph; and while the young mother stands by, her eyes beaming with mingled love and pride, he
+			becomes warmer in his romps; makes faces, as the nerveless fingers of the little one seek, with more
+			earnestness, his eyes, or pull with a greater effort at his lips; and amid screams of laughter, he chases
+			the flying hours, until at length a &#8216;pale cast of thought&#8217; flits over the baby&#8217;s face, like a cloud in a
+			summer sky. This is the signal for immediate seriousness. The father grows grave&#8212;then frightened.
+			He raises him gently from his lap, and with a single exclamation of &#8216;Take him mother!&#8217; consigns
+			the precious charge to her arms, and darting a hasty glance at his &#8216;pants&#8217; he walks in silence
+			from the room. Nor do we bachelors always escape with impunity. Anxious to win a smile from
+			some fond mother, more than one of us may have dared to approach, with a kiss, the hallowed lips of
+			her darling. But mark the quick wing of vengeance! Darting from its lurking place in the mouth,
+			out flies the little doubled fist, and slams a well-beslabbered biscuit into the face of the intruder. He
+			recoils, with his &#8216;reeking honors fresh upon him,&#8217; and the little squab coos in triumph at his failure.&#8217;</p>
+		</blockquote>
+	</div>
+
+	<div class="ed_table_item">
+		<p><span class="ed_table_title">National Academy of Design.</span>&#8212;The growing interest felt in relation to the Fine Arts
+		in this country, and the influence which the <span class="special_name">National Academy of Design</span> has had in producing
+		that interest, make it imperative upon us to notice the pictures which are annually
+		sent to this exhibition. In passing through the Academy with this object in view, we have
+		been at some loss to know where to begin. Finding however by chance at the end of
+		the catalogue an alphabetical arrangement of the exhibitors&#8217; names, we have adopted this
+		as the best method of laying the merits of the several pictures before our readers. We
+		therefore begin with:</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">V. G. Audubon, A.</span>&#8212;Mr. <span class="special_name">Audubon</span> exhibits four pictures this season: of these, No. 133,
+		&#8216;Grove of Palm-trees&#8217; in the Island of Cuba, we prefer. This picture appears to be a
+		faithful representation of the scene, and is handled with a free and firm pencil. The trees
+		are perhaps a little too literally represented, to be agreeable to the eye, consisting as they
+		do of so many equally straight and unpicturesque lines. No. 237, &#8216;Moon-light Squall
+		coming up,&#8217; is a pleasing representation of one of Nature&#8217;s poetical moments. The light is
+		clear and silvery, and the water transparent and truthful. The whole scene is interesting,
+		and there is but little to find fault with; although perhaps parts would admit of more
+		warmth of color.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">J. D. Blondell</span> has six pictures, the majority portraits. No. 80, &#8216;Portrait of a Lady,&#8217;
+		half-length, is a pleasing picture; warm in color and carefully painted, and gives evidence
+		of rising talent. The head is perhaps slightly deficient in careful drawing; but few artists
+		are competent to paint a lady&#8217;s portrait; and this gentleman should not feel discouraged,
+		though his work be found slightly deficient in that grace which is so difficult of attainment.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Boddington</span>, (London,) exhibits three landscapes, all in a style peculiarly belonging to
+		the English school. They possess great charms; facility of execution, and delicacy of
+		handling.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Bonfield.</span>&#8212;No. 168 is perhaps the best of his productions. If it were not for the pinky
+		hue of the sky, this would indeed be a charming picture.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">F. Bayle.</span>&#8212;No. 25; &#8216;Picture-Dealer.&#8217; A deep-toned, carefully-painted picture, and
+		evincing much promise in so young an artist. We are glad to perceive that it is purchased
+		by the American Art-Union.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">G. L. Brown.</span>&#8212;No. 400; &#8216;View of the Tiber.&#8217; Too much of an imitation of old pictures.
+		In seeking this quality, the artist has lost sight of the truth and freshness of nature.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Chapman, N. A.</span>&#8212;Mr. <span class="special_name">Chapman</span> presents nine pictures this season, and all in his usual
+		brilliant style. No. 116, &#8216;Peasant Girl of Albano,&#8217; is exceedingly rich in color, and forcible
+		in effect: a few cool tints about the head-dress would give perhaps still greater value to
+		the warm tones. No. 189, &#8216;Hebrew Women,&#8217; is this artist&#8217;s gem of the year. Well composed,
+		pleasing in color, and carefully finished, it expresses the occurrence with fidelity
+		and truth. No. 204, &#8216;Boy in Indian Costume,&#8217; is an attractive picture; but No. 213, &#8216;On
+		the Fence,&#8217; is more to our liking. The story is well told; the city beau is carefully and
+		<a class="pagenum" id="page596" title="596">&nbsp;</a>truly represented; and the dogs are admirable. No. 263, portrait of Doctor <span class="special_name">Anderson</span>,
+		the father of wood-engraving in this country, is capital. No. 266, &#8216;Lazy Fisherman,&#8217; is
+		Laziness personified. No. 341, &#8216;Sketch from Nature,&#8217; in water-colors, is an exemplification
+		of this gentleman&#8217;s versatility of talent.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">J. G. Clonney, A.</span>, has two pictures in the exhibition, Nos. 7 and 160. No. 7, &#8216;The
+		New-Year&#8217;s Call,&#8217; is decidedly the best. The negro is well painted. Mr. <span class="special_name">Clonney&#8217;s</span> works
+		generally evince great observation of nature in this class of subjects.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">T. Cole, N. A.</span>&#8212;Mr. <span class="special_name">Cole</span> exhibits but one picture, and that comparatively a small one.
+		It possesses however many of the admirable characteristics of his works, particularly his
+		early ones. It would be difficult to find a middle-ground and distance surpassing those of
+		this picture.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">T. Crawford</span>, (Rome.)&#8212;Mr. <span class="special_name">Crawford</span> gives us two full-length statues, in which the
+		charm of the <em>marble</em> is strongly apparent. Mr. <span class="special_name">Crawford</span>, we grieve to say, is evidently
+		too impatient in the finish of his works to produce that correctness which is essential to a
+		high effort of art.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">J. F. Cropsey.</span>&#8212;No. 68, &#8216;View in Orange County,&#8217; is a careful representation of nature,
+		and has the appearance to our eyes of having been painted on the spot; a practice very
+		rarely to be found in young artists. A continuance in this course will place this artist in a
+		prominent position as a landscape-painter. The sky is faulty in color, being too purple to
+		meet our views of nature; and there is a lack of delicacy in the more receding portions
+		of the work. But the fore-ground is carefully painted, and full of truth.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Cummings, N. A.</span>&#8212;Mr. <span class="special_name">Cummings</span> has but one picture. It possesses however the careful
+		finish, gentlemanly character, and general truthfulness, so characteristic of this fine artist.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">T. Cummings, Jr.</span>, a young artist. No. 149, &#8216;The Ball,&#8217; is his best work. In thus
+		attempting a subject of great difficulty of execution, he evinces promise of future ability.
+		The picture has many pleasing points, marked however with some errors, which time and
+		practice, let us hope, will correct.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">C. Curtis.</span>&#8212;Mr. <span class="special_name">Curtis</span> has two pictures in the exhibition, and both of merit. No. 196
+		is among the best heads in the collection.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">J. W. Dodge, A.</span>&#8212;&#8216;Miniature Portraits.&#8217; Those of <span class="special_name">Henry Clay</span> and Gen. <span class="special_name">Jackson</span>
+		are the most prominent. The likenesses are good, and the pictures carefully finished; a
+		merit in works of this character frequently unattended to. There is, however, a want of
+		dignity sometimes to be found in Mr. <span class="special_name">Dodge&#8217;s</span> portraits, which we could wish to see remedied:
+		it would give an elevation to his paintings which they at present lack.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Paul P. Duggan.</span>&#8212;&#8216;John the Baptist&#8217; is a model in plaster, which displays greater
+		knowledge of anatomy than we are in the habit of finding in the works of even older
+		artists. In this respect it possesses great merit. We understand it is his first effort in
+		modelling. As such, it is truly a work of the highest promise.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Durand, N. A.</span>&#8212;Mr. <span class="special_name">Durand</span> has contributed largely to the present exhibition, in every
+		sense of the word. His most prominent production is No. 36, &#8216;The Solitary Oak.&#8217; For an
+		exhibition-picture, perhaps it is not so striking as some of his previous works; yet it will
+		bear examination better. Without any effort at warmth of color, it has that glow of sunlight
+		which it is so difficult to express. A veteran tree, standing alone upon a gentle eminence,
+		stretching forth its giant arms, that have withstood the storms of centuries, is truly
+		a noble subject for an artist of Mr. <span class="special_name">Durand&#8217;s</span> reputation; and most truly has he depicted
+		it. The distance is beautiful, and the introduction of cattle seeking their evening shelter
+		gives an interest seldom to be found in works of this class. Should we attempt to find a
+		fault, it would be the want of a little more warmth and clearness in the dark parts of the
+		fore-ground. No. 134, another charming landscape; true to nature, of a silvery tone, and
+		most exquisite sweetness of color and delicacy of touch. Nos. 181 and 258 are two careful
+		studies from nature, wherein special care has been given to the trunks of trees, a feature
+		in landscape-painting upon which sufficient attention is rarely bestowed. No. 244, &#8216;Emigrant
+		Family,&#8217; is full of interest. The travelling family are encamped under the shade of
+		<a class="pagenum" id="page597" title="597">&nbsp;</a>the trees, and the kettle hung over the fire shows that they are evidently preparing to refresh
+		themselves for farther toil and journeying. The foliage of the trees is elaborately
+		executed; the distance is well preserved; and the whole possesses great truth to nature;
+		perhaps however, like all &#8216;<em>green</em>&#8217; pictures, it is less attractive in an exhibition than works
+		of a warmer color. No. 163, &#8216;Portrait of a Gentleman,&#8217; has great force, and shows the
+		artist&#8217;s versatility of genius.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">F. W. Edmonds, N. A.</span>&#8212;No. 105, &#8216;Beggar&#8217;s Petition,&#8217; is a spirited and faithful representation
+		of the cold indifference to the wants of others, displayed in the miser&#8217;s disposition.
+		The figures are of life-size, and well drawn. The female supplicating in behalf of the
+		distressed, is graceful in attitude, and admirably contrasted with the hoarding miser.
+		No. 205, &#8216;The Image Pedler,&#8217; is an effort of a higher order; for the artist has attempted,
+		and successfully too, to elevate the class of works to which it belongs. In short, he has
+		invested a humble subject with a moral dignity, which we hope our younger artists,
+		who paint in this department, will not lose sight of. An independent farmer has his
+		family around him, apparently immediately after dinner, and a strolling pedler appears
+		among them, to dispose of his wares; and this gives interest to the whole group. The
+		grandmother drops her peeling-knife, and the mother takes her infant from the cradle,
+		to gaze at the sights in the pedler&#8217;s basket. The husband, who has been reading in
+		the cool breeze of the window, turns to participate in the sport; while the grandfather
+		takes a bust of <span class="special_name">Washington</span>, places it on the table, and commences an earnest
+		elucidation of the character of the, &#8216;Father of his Country&#8217; to the little children around
+		him. All the figures are intelligent, and the whole scene conveys to the mind a <em>happy
+		family</em>. In color, light and shade, and composition, it is masterly; and we see in it that
+		minuteness of detail and careful finish are not incompatible with a broad and luminous
+		effect.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">C. L. Elliott</span> has five portraits in the exhibition. His &#8216;Full-length of <span class="special_name">Gov. Seward</span>&#8217;
+		is a prominent one, although not his most agreeable picture. No. 61 is we think the best,
+		and is a well-managed portrait, both in drawing and color.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">G. W. Flagg, H.</span>&#8212;No. 63, &#8216;Half-length of a Lady,&#8217; has considerable merit. It is rich and
+		mellow in color, and better we think than many of Mr. <span class="special_name">Flagg&#8217;s</span> recent works. No. 208,
+		&#8216;The Widow,&#8217; is a popular picture; pleasing in expression, and possessing more refinement
+		of character than is observable in many of his other portraits. No. 102, &#8216;Bianca Visconti,&#8217;
+		we do not admire.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">G. Freeman.</span>&#8212;Miniature portraits, generally large, and highly finished. This gentleman
+		has lately arrived from Europe, and is we believe a popular artist; yet we do not like
+		his productions.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">J. Frothingham, N. A.</span>&#8212;Nos. 32 and 35: portraits exhibiting Mr. <span class="special_name">Frothingham&#8217;s</span>
+		usual bold and free style in this department of art; remarkably fine likenesses; true in color,
+		and of pleasing general effect.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">H. P. Gray, N. A.</span>&#8212;Mr. <span class="special_name">Gray</span> exhibits a number of his works this season. He seems
+		to us to sacrifice every thing to color; and his color is not such as is generally seen in nature,
+		but rather what he has seen in pictures. This we think a mistake, and one which
+		we must be permitted to hope he will rectify. In the pictures which he formerly painted, a
+		much closer attention to nature is observable. Mr. <span class="special_name">Gray</span> has all the feeling of an artist,
+		with no ordinary talent; and we regret to find that he wanders from the direct path. We
+		were among the first, if not the very first, to call public attention to his merits, and it is
+		with reluctance that we perform the duty involved in these animadversions. &#8216;Comparisons,&#8217;
+		<span class="special_name">Dogberry</span> tells us, &#8216;are odorous;&#8217; we cannot help remarking, however, that Mr. <span class="special_name">Gray&#8217;s</span>
+		old fellow-student, <span class="special_name">Huntington</span>, is (<em>longa intervallo</em>) in the advance. We prefer, of our
+		artist&#8217;s present efforts, the picture of &#8216;His Wife.&#8217; It has a pleasing effect, and is more finished
+		than usual, and more natural in tone than his &#8216;Magdalen.&#8217;</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">J. T. Harris, A.</span>, has two pictures, and both portraits. No. 19 is the best. It exhibits
+		<a class="pagenum" id="page598" title="598">&nbsp;</a>a broad, free touch, and correct drawing, and is withal an excellent likeness. But we
+		never look at Mr. <span class="special_name">Harris&#8217;</span> works without being impressed with the idea that they are not
+		finished. They seem to us, to borrow an artistical expression, as if they were in a capital
+		state for &#8216;glazing and toning up.&#8217; Otherwise, they are above the ordinary run of portraits.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">G. P. A. Healy, H.</span>&#8212;Mr. <span class="special_name">Healy</span> is a resident of Paris, but an American. He is a
+		favorite at the French court, and has by this means a reputation to which his works generally
+		do not entitle him. We are bound in justice to say of his present effort, however, that
+		it is an exceedingly fine picture. It is boldly and masterly executed; forcibly drawn, honestly
+		colored, and well expressed. There is too about it a freedom from all the usual tricks
+		of the profession, such as a red chair, velvet collar, and fantastic back-ground, which we
+		particularly recommend to the attention of young artists.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Thomas Hicks, A.</span>, has eight pictures in the collection, but none, excepting his portraits,
+		which equal his former productions. No. 264, &#8216;The Mother&#8217;s Grave,&#8217; is an oft-repeated
+		subject, and should not be attempted unless the artist is able to treat it with entire originality.
+		There are good points about it, but none sufficiently attractive to warrant particular
+		notice.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Ingham, N. A.</span>, as usual has a fine collection of female portraits, all excellent for their
+		careful drawing, lady-like expression, and high finish. The drapery and accessories of
+		Mr. <span class="special_name">Ingham&#8217;s</span> portraits are always wonderfully exact to nature; and this greatly enhances
+		the value of portraits of this description; for aside from their merit as likenesses, they will
+		always be valuable as pictures. His male portrait, No. 113, of <span class="special_name">T. S. Cummings</span>, Esq., is
+		a most admirable likeness, as well as a highly-wrought and masterly-painted picture. No.
+		239, &#8216;Portrait of a Lady,&#8217; with a fan in her hand, is our favorite among his female heads.
+		There is a sweetness and modesty in the expression, not only in the countenance but in the
+		whole figure, which makes it peculiarly attractive.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">H. Inman, N. A.</span>&#8212;No. 62, &#8216;Portrait of the late Bishop <span class="special_name">Moore</span>, of Virginia,&#8217; is the admiration
+		of all who behold it. In color it surpasses any thing of Mr. <span class="special_name">Inman&#8217;s</span> we have seen
+		in many a day. Clear and luminous, with great breadth of light, and a mild, pleasing expression.
+		We of course mean this to apply to the head. The hand and part of the drapery
+		are not, in our judgment, so well done. No. 104, &#8216;Lady with a Mask,&#8217; we do not altogether
+		like; yet it is remarkable for being foreshortened in every part, and possesses that singular
+		charm of light and shadow, and accidental effect, which are the characteristics of our artist&#8217;s
+		pencil. No. 314, a Landscape, although small, is delicately handled, and &#8216;touched
+		in&#8217; with great neatness and accuracy. In effect it is attractive, and in color pleasing. The
+		figure in the fore-ground equals in care and minuteness of finish the manner of <span class="special_name">Wouvermans</span>.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">N. Jocelyn.</span>&#8212;No. 57, &#8216;Portrait of Professor <span class="special_name">Silliman</span>,&#8217; a faithful likeness, and carefully-painted
+		portrait of a distinguished individual. No. 2, &#8216;Portrait of a Child,&#8217; is another
+		finished picture by this artist; clear and pearly in color and infantile in expression.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">Alfred Jones.</span>&#8212;No. 301, an engraving from <span class="special_name">Mount&#8217;s</span> picture of &#8216;Nooning,&#8217; for the
+		American Art-Union, is one of the largest line-engravings ever published in this country,
+		and a work of high order. This style of engraving has heretofore received so little encouragement,
+		that until the Art-Union started it, no one except Mr. <span class="special_name">Durand</span> had ever before
+		dared to attempt it. This effort of Mr. <span class="special_name">Jones</span> does him great credit.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">M. Livingstone, A.</span>, has several works in the exhibition, but we cannot rank them
+		among the higher class of landscapes. They lack the poetry of landscape-painting; but
+		as amateur productions, they are very good.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">E. D. Marchant, A.</span>&#8212;All portraits, but none of high merit. Mr. <span class="special_name">Marchant</span> is a persevering
+		artist, who paints good likenesses and pleasing pictures; and so far, is doubtless
+		popular with those who employ him.</p>
+
+		<p><span class="special_name">John Megarey</span> has two portraits, and those far surpassing his former works. They are
+		carefully painted, without an effort at any thing beyond the subject before the artist.</p>
+
+		<p>We shall resume and conclude our remarks upon the exhibition in our next number.</p>
+
+	</div>
+
+	<div class="ed_table_item" id="gossip">
+		<div class="gossip_section">
+			<p><a class="pagenum" id="page599" title="599">&nbsp;</a><span class="ed_table_title">Gossip with Readers and Correspondents.</span>&#8212;We are about to enter upon the
+			<span class="small_all_caps">TWENTY-FOURTH</span> volume of the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>, for the advertisement of which, please
+			note the second and third pages of the cover of the present number. We have nothing
+			farther to add, than that &#8216;what <em>has been</em>, is that which <em>shall be</em>,&#8217; in our onward progress.
+			This Magazine, much the oldest in the United States, has been established, by the ever-unabated
+			favor of the public, upon a basis of unshaken permanence. Its subscription-list
+			fluctuates only in advance; it has the <em>affection</em> of its readers, and all concerned in its production
+			and promulgation, to a degree wholly unexampled; and it is designed not only to
+			maintain, but continually to enhance, its just claims upon the liberal patronage of American
+			readers. The arrangements for the next volume, if they do not &#8216;preclude competition,&#8217; will
+			be found, it is confidently believed, to preclude any thing like successful rivalry, on the part
+			of any of our contemporaries. On this point, however, we choose as heretofore to be
+			judged by the public. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> gave in a recent issue two or three extracts from a lecture
+			on &#8216;<cite>The Inner Life of Man</cite>&#8217; delivered by Mr. <span class="special_name">Charles Hoover</span>, at Newark, New-Jersey.
+			This admirable performance has since been repeated to a highly gratified audience
+			in this city; and from it we derive the following beautiful passage, which we commend to
+			the heart of every lover of his kind: &#8216;It is a maxim of patriotism never to despair of the
+			republic. Let it be the motto of our philanthropy never to despair of our sinning, sorrowing
+			brother, till his last lingering look upon life has been taken, and all avenues by which angels
+			approach the stricken heart are closed and silent forever. And in such a crisis, let no
+			counsel be taken of narrow, niggard sentiment. When in a sea-storm some human being
+			is seen in the distant surf, clinging to a plank, that is sometimes driven nearer to the shore,
+			and sometimes carried farther off; sometimes buried in the surge, and then rising again, as
+			if itself struggling like the almost hopeless sufferer it supports, who looks sadly to the shore
+			as he rises from every wave, and battling with the billow, mingles his cry for help with the
+			wild, mournful scream of the sea-bird; nature in every bosom on the shore is instinct with
+			anxious pity for his fate, and darts her sympathies to him over the laboring waters. The
+			child drops his play-things, and old age grasps its crutch and hurries to the spot; and the
+			hand that cannot fling a rope is lifted to heaven for help. What though the sufferer be a
+			stranger, a foreigner, an enemy even? Nature in trouble, in consternation, shrieks &#8216;<em>He is
+			a man!</em>&#8217; and every heart and hand is prompt to the rescue.&#8217; &#8216;To a high office and ministry,
+			to a life of beneficence, pity and love, each man should deem himself called by a divine
+			vocation, by the appointment of nature; and otherwise living, should judge himself
+			to be an abortion, a mistake, without signification or use in a world like ours. And the
+			beauty, the glory of such a life, is not to be reckoned among ideal things heard out of heaven
+			but never encountered by the eye. This world has had its <span class="special_name">Christ</span>, its <span class="special_name">Fenelons</span>, its
+			<span class="special_name">Howards</span>, as well as its <span class="special_name">Caligulas</span> and <span class="special_name">Neros</span>. Love hath been at times a manifestation
+			as well as a principle; and the train of its glory swept far below the stars, and its brightness
+			has fallen in mitigated and mellowed rays from the faces of men. As the ambiguous
+			stranger-star of Bethlehem had its interpreting angel-song to the herdsmen of the plains, so
+			loving men in all ages have given glimpses and interpretations of the love of <span class="special_name">God</span>, and of
+			the pity that is felt for the miserable and the guilty in the palace and presence-chamber of
+			<span class="special_name">Jehovah</span>. What glory within the scope of human imitation and attainment is comparable to
+			that of the beneficent, the sympathising lover of his race? What more elevated, pure, and
+			beautiful is possible among the achievements of an endless progression in heaven itself?
+			<span class="special_name">Milton</span> represents the profoundest emotions of joy and wonder among the celestial hosts
+			as occasioned by the first anticipative disclosures of divine pity toward sinning man; and
+			a greater than <span class="special_name">Milton</span> assures us that the transport and festival of angelic joy occurs when
+			Pity lifts the penitent from his prostration and forgives his folly.&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">Embellishment</span>
+			would seem to be the literary order of the day, in more ways than one. It has come to be
+			the mode to express the most simple thought in the most magniloquent phrase. This propensity
+			<a class="pagenum" id="page600" title="600">&nbsp;</a>to lingual <em>Euphuism</em> has given rise to sundry illustrations, in embellished maxims,
+			which are particularly amusing. They are of the sort so finely satirized by &#8216;<span class="special_name">Ollapod</span>,&#8217; on
+			one occasion, two or three examples of which we annex. The common phrase of &#8216;&#8217;Tis
+			an ill wind that blows nobody any good&#8217; was transformed into &#8216;That gale is truly diseased
+			which puffeth benefactions to nonentity;&#8217; &#8216;Let well enough alone,&#8217; into &#8216;Suffer a healthy
+			sufficiency to remain in solitude;&#8217; and &#8216;What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander,&#8217;
+			into &#8216;The culinary adornments which suffice for the female of the race <em>Anser</em>,
+			maybe relished also with the masculine adult of the same species.&#8217; Some London wag,
+			in a kindred spirit, has illustrated the cockney song, &#8216;If I had a donkey as vouldn&#8217;t go,
+			do you think I&#8217;d wallop him?&#8217; etc., as follows: &#8216;The herbaceous boon and the bland recommendation
+			to advance, are more operative on the ansinine quadruped than the stern
+			imprecation and the oaken cudgel:</p>
+
+			<div class="poem">
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p>&#8216;Had I an ass averse to speed,</p>
+					<p>I ne&#8217;er would strike him; no indeed!</p>
+					<p>I&#8217;d give him hay, and cry &#8216;Proceed,&#8217;</p>
+					<p class="i6">And &#8216;Go on <span class="special_name">Edward</span>!&#8217;&#8217;</p>
+				</div>
+			</div>
+
+			<p>The same species of satire is now and then visited upon the &#8216;Troubadour Songs,&#8217; which
+			have become so afflictingly common of late years. Some of these we have already given;
+			and we find them on the increase in England. We have before us, from the London press
+			of <span class="special_name">Tilt and Bogue</span>, &#8216;Sir <span class="special_name">Whystleton Mugges</span>, a Metrical Romaunte, in three Fyttes,&#8217;
+			with copious notes. A stanza or two will suffice as a specimen. The knightly hero, it
+			needs only to premise, has been jilted by his fair &#8216;ladye-love,&#8217; who retires to her boudoir,
+			while the knight walks off in despair:</p>
+
+			<div class="poem">
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p class="i2">&#8216;Hys herte beat high and quycke;</p>
+					<p>Forth to his tygere he did call,</p>
+					<p>&#8216;Bring me my palfrey from his stall,</p>
+					<p class="i2">For I moste cotte my stycke!&#8217;</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p class="i2">&#8216;Ye stede was brought, ye knyghte jomped up,</p>
+					<p>He woulde not even stay to sup,</p>
+					<p class="i2">But swyft he rode away;</p>
+					<p>Still groanynge as he went along,</p>
+					<p>And vowing yet to come out stronge,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Upon some future day.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p>&#8216;Alack for poore Syr <span class="special_name">Whystleton</span>,</p>
+					<p class="i2">In love and warre so bold!</p>
+					<p>Ye Ladye <span class="special_name">Blanche</span> hym browne hath done,</p>
+					<p class="i2">He is completely solde!</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p>&#8216;Completely solde alack he is,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Alack and wel-a-day;</p>
+					<p>Mort <span class="special_name">Dieu</span>! a bitterre fate is hys</p>
+					<p class="i2">Whose trewe love sayth him nay!&#8217;</p>
+				</div>
+			</div>
+
+			<p>Thus endeth &#8216;Fytte ye First.&#8217; We learn from the preface that the &#8216;Rhime of the Manne
+			whose Mothre did not Know he was Out,&#8217; and &#8216;Ye Lodgemente of Maistre <span class="special_name">Fergisoune</span>,&#8217;
+			are also in the editor&#8217;s possession, but owing to the imperfect state of the <span class="small_all_caps">MSS.</span>, it is doubtful
+			whether they will ever be published. They have however been submitted to the inspection
+			of &#8216;The <span class="special_name">Percy</span> Society!&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> are well pleased to learn that Sir <span class="special_name">Edward
+			Lytton Bulwer</span>, the distinguished author, is soon to visit the United States. That he
+			will be warmly welcomed and cordially received, we cannot doubt; but we have good
+			reason to believe that in the present instance at least our admiration of true genius will be
+			tempered by all proper self-respect. Mr. <span class="special_name">Bulwer</span> has for many years entertained a desire
+			to visit America. In one of his letters to the late <span class="special_name">Willis Gaylord Clark</span>, now lying
+			before us, he writes: &#8216;I have long felt a peculiar admiration for your great and rising country;
+			and it gives me a pleasure far beyond that arising from a vulgar notoriety, to think that
+			I am not unknown to its inhabitants. Some time or other I hope to visit you, and suffer my
+			<a class="pagenum" id="page601" title="601">&nbsp;</a>present prepossessions to be confirmed by actual experience.&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> have received and
+			perused with gratification the last report of the &#8216;<em>New-York Asylum for Deaf Mutes</em>.&#8217; The
+			institution is in the most flourishing condition, and its usefulness greatly increased. We
+			are sorry to perceive, by the following &#8216;specimen of composition&#8217; of a pupil in the eighth
+			class, that the &#8216;Orphic Sayings&#8217; of Mr. <span class="special_name">A. Bronson Alcott</span> are taken as literary models
+			by the deaf and dumb students. The ensuing is certainly much better, internally, than
+			anything from the transcendental &#8216;seer;&#8217; but the manner too nearly resembles his, for
+			both to be original. There is the same didactic condensation, the same Orphic &#8216;oneness,&#8217;
+			which distinguishes all <em>Alcottism</em> proper. It is entitled &#8216;Story of Hog:&#8217;</p>
+
+			<blockquote>
+				<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">I walked</span> on the road. I stood near the water. I undressed my feet. I went in the water. I
+				stood under the bridge. I sat on the log. I washed my feet with hands. I looked at large water
+				came. I ran in the water. I ran out the water. The large water floated fast. I afraid. I wiped feet
+				with stockings. I dressed my feet with stockings and shoes. I went on the ground. I stood on the
+				ground. I seen at the hog ate grass. The hog seen at me. I went on the ground. I ran. The hog
+				heard. The hog looked at me. It ran and jumped. The hog ran under the fence and got his head
+				under the fence and want to ran out the fence! I caught ears its hog. The hog shout. I pulled the
+				hog out the fence. I struck a hog with hand. I rided on the hog ran and jumped fast. The hog ran
+				fell on near the water. I rided off a hog. I stood. I held one ear its hog. The hog slept lies on
+				near the water. I waited. I leaved. I went from the hog. The hog awoke. It rose. It saw not
+				me. It ran and jumped. The hog went from the water. The hog went in the mud and water. The
+				hog wallowed in the mud and water became very dirty. It slept. I went. I went into the house.&#8217;</p>
+			</blockquote>
+
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="gossip_section">
+			<p><span class="first_word">The Ekkalaeobion</span> is the name given to an establishment opposite the Washington
+			Hotel, in Broadway, where the formation of chickens, <em lang="la" xml:lang="la">ab initio</em>, is &#8216;practised to a great
+			extent.&#8217; And really, it is in some respects an awful exhibition, to a reflecting mind. It is
+			as it were a visible exposition of the source of life. You see the pulse of existence throbbing
+			in the yet unformed mass, which assumes, day after day, the image of its kind; until
+			at length the little creature knocks for admittance into this breathing world; steps forth
+			from the shell in which it had been so long &#8216;cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in;&#8217; and
+			straitway walks abroad, &#8216;regenerated, disenthralled,&#8217; and ready for its &#8216;grub.&#8217; By all
+			means, reader, go and see this interesting and instructive exhibition. It is provocative of
+			much reflection, aside from the mere contemplation of it as a matter of curiosity. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">The</span>
+			correspondent who sends us the following, writes upon the envelope containing it: &#8216;I have
+			endeavored to preserve the measure of the original, and at the same time to present a
+			literal translation.&#8217; It will be conceded, we think, that he has been successful in his endeavor.
+			Perhaps in some lines (as in &#8216;<em lang="la" xml:lang="la">Pertransivit gladius</em>&#8217;) the translation is a little <i>too</i>
+			literal:</p>
+
+			<h3 class="subtitle">STABAT MATER.</h3>
+			<div class="poem">
+				<div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">I.</h4>
+					<p><span class="first_word">Stabat</span> mater dolorosa,</p>
+					<p>Juxta crucem lacrymosa,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Dum pendebat filius:</p>
+					<p>Cujus animam gementem,</p>
+					<p>Contristantem et dolentem,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Pertransivit gladius.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">I.</h4>
+					<p><span class="first_word">Near</span> the cross the Mother weeping</p>
+					<p>Stood, her watch in sorrow keeping</p>
+					<p class="i2">While was hanging there her <span class="special_name">Son</span>:</p>
+					<p>Through her soul in anguish groaning,</p>
+					<p>O most sad, <span class="special_name">His</span> fate bemoaning,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Through and through that sword was run.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="clear_div"></div>
+
+				<div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">II.</h4>
+					<p>O quam tristis et afflicta</p>
+					<p>Fuit illa benedicta,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Mater unigeniti:</p>
+					<p>Quæ mœrebat, et dolebat,</p>
+					<p>Et tremebat, cum videbat</p>
+					<p class="i2">Nati pœnas inclyti.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">II.</h4>
+					<p>Oh how sad with woe oppressed,</p>
+					<p>Was she then, the Mother blessed,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Who the sole-begotten bore:</p>
+					<p>As she saw his pain and anguish,</p>
+					<p>She did tremble, she did languish,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Weep her holy Son before.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="clear_div"></div>
+
+				<div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">III.</h4>
+					<p>Quis est homo qui non fleret,</p>
+					<p>Christi matrem si videret</p>
+					<p class="i2">In tanto supplicio?</p>
+					<p>Quis posset non contristari,</p>
+					<p>Piam matrem contemplari,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Dolentem cum filio?</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">III.</h4>
+					<p>Who is he his tears concealing,</p>
+					<p>Could have seen such anguish stealing</p>
+					<p class="i2">Through the Saviour-mother&#8217;s breast?</p>
+					<p>Who his deepest groans could smother,</p>
+					<p>Had he seen the holy Mother</p>
+					<p class="i2">By her Son with grief oppressed!</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="clear_div"></div>
+
+				<div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la">
+				<h4 class="subtitle"><a class="pagenum" id="page602" title="602">&nbsp;</a>IV.</h4>
+					<p>Pro peccatis suæ gentis</p>
+					<p>Vidit Jesum in tormentis,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Et flagellis subditum;</p>
+					<p>Vidit suum dulcem natum</p>
+					<p>Morientem, desolatum,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Dum emisit spiritum.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">IV.</h4>
+					<p>Christ for Israel&#8217;s transgression</p>
+					<p>Saw she suffer thus oppression,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Torment, and the cruel blow:</p>
+					<p>Saw Him desolate and dying;</p>
+					<p>Him she loved, beheld Him sighing</p>
+					<p class="i2">Forth His soul in deepest woe.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="clear_div"></div>
+
+				<div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">V.</h4>
+					<p>Eja mater, fons amoris,</p>
+					<p>Me sentire vim doloris</p>
+					<p class="i2">Fac, ut tecum lugeam.</p>
+					<p>Fac ut ardeat cor meum,</p>
+					<p>In amando Christum Deum,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Ut sibi complaceam.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">V.</h4>
+					<p>Source of love, thy grief, O Mother,</p>
+					<p>Grant with thee to share another&#8212;</p>
+					<p class="i2">Grant that I with thee may weep:</p>
+					<p>May my heart with love be glowing,</p>
+					<p>All on Christ my God bestowing,</p>
+					<p class="i2">In His favor ever keep.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="clear_div"></div>
+
+				<div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">VI.</h4>
+					<p>Saneta mater, istud agas,</p>
+					<p>Crucifixi fige plagas</p>
+					<p class="i2">Cordi meo valide:</p>
+					<p>Tui nati vulnerati,</p>
+					<p>Jam dignati pro me pati,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Pœnas mecum divide.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">VI.</h4>
+					<p>This, oh holy Mother! granting,</p>
+					<p>In my heart the wounds implanting</p>
+					<p class="i2">Of His cross, oh let me bear:</p>
+					<p>Pangs with which thy Son when wounded</p>
+					<p>Deigned for me to be surrounded,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Grant, oh grant that I may share.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="clear_div"></div>
+
+				<div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">VII.</h4>
+					<p>Fac me vere tecum flere,</p>
+					<p>Crucifixo condolere,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Donec ego vixero:</p>
+					<p>Juxta crucem tecum stare,</p>
+					<p>Te libenter sociare</p>
+					<p class="i2">In planctu desidero.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">VII.</h4>
+					<p>Be my eyes with tears o&#8217;erflowing,</p>
+					<p>For the crucified bestowing,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Till my eyes shall close in death:</p>
+					<p>Ever by that cross be standing,</p>
+					<p>Willingly with thee demanding</p>
+					<p class="i2">But to share each mournful breath.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="clear_div"></div>
+
+				<div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">VIII.</h4>
+					<p>Virgo virginum præclara,</p>
+					<p>Mihi jam non sis amara</p>
+					<p class="i2">Fac me tecum plangere;</p>
+					<p>Fadut portem Christi mortem,</p>
+					<p>Passionis ejus sortem,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Et plagas recolere.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">VIII.</h4>
+					<p>Thou of virgins blest forever,</p>
+					<p>Oh deny I pray thee never</p>
+					<p class="i2">That I may lament with thee:</p>
+					<p>Be my soul His death enduring,</p>
+					<p>And His passion&#8212;thus securing</p>
+					<p class="i2">Of His pains the memory.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="clear_div"></div>
+
+				<div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">IX.</h4>
+					<p>Fac me plagis vulnerari,</p>
+					<p>Cruce hac inebriari,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Ob amorem filii:</p>
+					<p>Inflammatus et accensus</p>
+					<p>Per te, virgo, sim defensus</p>
+					<p class="i2">In die judicii.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">IX.</h4>
+					<p>With those blows may I be smitten,</p>
+					<p>In my heart that cross be written,</p>
+					<p class="i2">For thy Son&#8217;s dear love alway:</p>
+					<p>Glowing, burning with affection,</p>
+					<p>Grant me, Virgin! thy protection,</p>
+					<p class="i2">In the dreaded judgment-day.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="clear_div"></div>
+
+				<div class="stanza left_column" lang="la" xml:lang="la">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">X.</h4>
+					<p>Fac me cruce custodiri,</p>
+					<p>Morte Christi præmuniri,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Confoveri gratia:</p>
+					<p>Quando corpus morietur,</p>
+					<p>Fac ut animæ donetur</p>
+					<p class="i2">Paradisi gloria.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza right_column" lang="en" xml:lang="en">
+				<h4 class="subtitle">X.</h4>
+					<p>May that cross its aid extend me,</p>
+					<p>May the death of Christ defend me,</p>
+					<p class="i2">With its saving grace surround;</p>
+					<p>And when life&#8217;s last link is riven,</p>
+					<p>To my soul be glory given,</p>
+					<p class="i2">That in Paradise is found.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="clear_div"></div>
+			</div>
+
+			<p class="sign"><span class="location">St. Paul&#8217;s College.</span>      <span class="author">G. H. H.</span></p>
+
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="gossip_section">
+			<p><span class="first_word">Our</span> Pine-street correspondent, who addresses us upon the &#8216;<em>Fashionable Society in New-York</em>,&#8217;
+			writes from the promptings of an honest-hearted frankness, <em>that</em> is quite clear; but
+			he has not yet acquired that sort of useful information which is conveyed by the term,
+			&#8216;knowing the world.&#8217; The &#8216;fashionable circles&#8217; <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">par excellence</em>, whose breeding and bearing
+			he impugns, are of the <span class="special_name">Beauvoir</span> school; persons who &#8216;are of your <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">gens de cotorie</em>;
+			your people of the real &#8216;caste&#8217; and &#8216;tone;&#8217; that is, your people who singly would be set
+			down as nought in society, but who, as a &#8216;set,&#8217; have managed to make their joint-stock impudence
+			imposing.&#8217; Our correspondent, we suspect, has one important lesson to learn in
+			his intercourse with such persons; and it is a lesson which has been felicitously set forth
+			by a late English essayist. There is a recipe in some old book, he says, &#8216;How to avoid
+			<a class="pagenum" id="page603" title="603">&nbsp;</a>being tossed by a bull;&#8217; and the instruction is, &#8216;<em>Toss him.</em>&#8217; Try the experiment upon the
+			first coxcomb who fancies that you are his inferior; charge first, and give him to understand
+			at once that he is yours. Be coldly supercilious with all &#8216;important&#8217; catiffs, and most
+			punctual be your attention to any matter in debate; but let no temptation prevail with you
+			to touch on any earthly point beyond it. In the case alluded to, a pompous old baronet
+			comes down stairs loaded to the very muzzle to repress &#8216;familiarity&#8217; on the part of a young
+			man, who from an estate of dependence has recently mounted by inheritance to a princely
+			fortune; but the cool, quiet young gentleman finds the old baronet guilty of &#8216;familiarity&#8217;
+			himself, and makes him bear the penalty of it, before six sentences are exchanged between
+			them. The secret of the whole thing was, a quiet look directly in the eye, and the preservation
+			of a deliberate silence; the true way to dissolve your pompous gentleman or affected
+			&#8216;fashionable&#8217; lady. The baronet&#8217;s long pauses the young heir did not move to interrupt.
+			His mere <em>listening</em> drew the old aristocrat gradually out; his auditor replied monosyllabically,
+			and made him pull him all the way. It was pitiful to see the old buzzard,
+			who thought himself high and mighty, compelled to communicate with one who would
+			have no notion of any body&#8217;s being high and mighty at all; getting gradually out of patience
+			at the obstinate formality he was compelled to encounter, which he was sure any
+			direct overture toward intimacy on his part would remove; and at last, in the midst of his
+			doubts whether he should be familiar with the young man, being struck with a stronger
+			doubt whether such familiarity would be reciprocated; it was a rich scene altogether, and
+			worthy of being remembered by our correspondent. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">The</span> May issue of the &#8216;<cite>Cultivator</cite>&#8217;
+			agricultural Magazine, which under the supervision of the late <span class="special_name">Willis Gaylord</span>
+			reached a circulation of between forty and fifty thousand copies, contains an elaborate
+			notice of its lamented editor, in which we find (in a letter from <span class="special_name">H. S. Randall</span>, Esq.,) the
+			following passage:</p>
+
+			<blockquote>
+				<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">His</span> reading was literally boundless. He was as familiar with the natural sciences, history, poetry,
+				and belles-letters, as with agriculture, and nearly if not quite as well qualified to discuss them. It
+				was difficult to start any literary topic which you did not at once perceive had been examined by him
+				with the eye of a scholar and critic. In one of my letters, half sportively, yet in a serious tone, I
+				asked him &#8216;what he thought of the German Philosophy?&#8217; In his answer, <span class="special_name">Kant</span> and <span class="special_name">Fichte</span>, and I
+				think <span class="special_name">Schelling</span> and <span class="special_name">Jacobi</span>, were discussed with as much familiarity as most scholars would find
+				themselves qualified to make use of in speaking of <span class="special_name">Locke</span>, or <span class="special_name">Stewart</span>, or <span class="special_name">Brown</span>. In commenting
+				on the report of mine, (on Common School Libraries,) alluded to by him in the last Cultivator, he
+				betrays an extensive knowledge of the literature of nearly every nation in Europe. As a writer, the
+				public have long been acquainted with Mr. <span class="special_name">Gaylord</span>. He wrote on nearly every class of topics connected
+				with human improvement; in papers, magazines, and not unfrequently in books. But it is as
+				an agricultural writer that he is best known. Here, taken all in all, he stands unrivalled. There are
+				many agricultural writers in our country who are as well or better qualified to discuss a single topic,
+				than he was. But I deem it not disrespectful to say, that for acquaintance with and ability to discuss
+				clearly and correctly every department of agricultural science, he has not, he never has had, an
+				equal in this State. He was every way fitted for an editor. Placable and forgiving in his temper;
+				modest, disinterested, unprejudiced; never evincing a foolish credulity; above deception, despising
+				quackery; with an honesty of motive that was never suspected.&#8217;</p>
+			</blockquote>
+
+			<p>No one who knew intimately our lamented relative and friend, but will confirm the
+			justice of this encomium. We trust that a collection of <span class="special_name">Willis Gaylord&#8217;s</span> writings, literary,
+			scientific, and agricultural, will be made by some competent hand. They are demanded,
+			we perceive, by various public journals throughout the country. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="special_name">Professor
+			Gouraud&#8217;s</span> extraordinary exposition of <em>Phreno-Mnemotechny</em> seems to be winning him
+			&#8216;fame and fortune&#8217; wherever he goes. He was in Philadelphia at the last advices, where
+			his success was to the full as signal as in this city. It is obvious, we think, that the advantages
+			of this great system will hereafter be chiefly enjoyed by the rising generation, who
+			will thus be enabled to attain in six months an amount of information which in the ordinary
+			way could scarcely be mastered in as many years. Still, the science has already
+			been studied by hundreds of highly-endowed <em>men</em>, persons eminent in their own peculiar
+			walks, who have cheerfully yielded their tributes of admiration to its vast resources.
+			Several excellent articles upon this theme have from time to time appeared in the columns
+			of the &#8216;New World&#8217; weekly journal, from the pen of Mr. <span class="special_name">Mackay</span>, one of the editors;
+			who, being himself a pupil of Mr. <span class="special_name">Gouraud</span>, writes from personal experience of the matter
+			<a class="pagenum" id="page604" title="604">&nbsp;</a>in question. &#8216;A thousand dollars,&#8217; he avers, &#8216;would not be a fair equivalent for the
+			great advantages obtainable by Phreno-Mnemotechny;&#8217; and in this opinion there is a general
+			concurrence of Professor <span class="special_name">Gouraud&#8217;s</span> pupils in this city. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">What</span> a power there
+			is in much of the occasional music one hears, to stir the heart! Perhaps you never heard
+			<span class="special_name">Brough</span>, to the &#8216;instrumentation&#8217; of that fine composer and most facile performer, &#8216;<span class="special_name">Frank
+			Brown</span>,&#8217; sing <span class="special_name">Barry Cornwall&#8217;s</span> &#8216;King Death,&#8217; or &#8216;The Admiral and the Shark?&#8217; No?
+			Then never let the opportunity to do so slip, if you should ever be so fortunate as to enjoy
+			it. Listen to the words of the first-named:</p>
+
+			<div class="poem">
+				<h3 class="subtitle">I.</h3>
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p><span class="first_word">King Death</span> was a rare old fellow,</p>
+					<p>He sat where no sun could shine;</p>
+					<p>And he lifted his hand so yellow,</p>
+					<p>And poured out his coal-black wine!</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<h3 class="subtitle">II.</h3>
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p>There came to him many a maiden,</p>
+					<p>Whose eyes had forgot to shine,</p>
+					<p>And widows with grief o&#8217;er laden,</p>
+					<p>For a draught of his sleepy wine.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<h3 class="subtitle">III.</h3>
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p>The scholar left all his learning,</p>
+					<p>The poet his fancied woes;</p>
+					<p>And the beauty her bloom returning</p>
+					<p>Like life to the fading rose.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<h3 class="subtitle">IV.</h3>
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p>All came to the rare old fellow,</p>
+					<p>Who laughed till his eyes dropped brine,</p>
+					<p>As he gave them his hand so yellow,</p>
+					<p>And pledged them in <span class="special_name">Death&#8217;s</span> black wine.</p>
+				</div>
+			</div>
+
+			<p><span class="first_word">We</span> should reluct at consorting with any citizen who could hear this song executed, in
+			the manner of <span class="special_name">Brough</span>, without feeling the electric fluid coursing <em>up</em> his vertebra, and
+			passing off at the points of his hair, as the hollow tones waver down the chromatic, or
+			wail in low and spondaic monotones. &#8216;F. B.&#8217; was &#8216;rich&#8217; in &#8216;<cite>Over There</cite>,&#8217; a song which,
+			like the numerous platitudes of the &#8216;Brigadier-General,&#8217; is indebted to its music for its popularity.
+			There ensues a verse that is very striking:</p>
+
+			<div class="poem">
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p>&#8216;Oh! I wish I was a geese,</p>
+					<p class="i6">Over there! over there!</p>
+					<p>Oh! I wish I was a geese,</p>
+					<p class="i6">Over there!</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p>&#8216;Oh I wish I was a geese,</p>
+					<p>&#8217;Cause they lives and dies in peace,</p>
+					<p>And accumulates much grease,</p>
+					<p class="i6">Over there!&#8217;</p>
+				</div>
+			</div>
+
+			<p>Nothing by the author of <span class="special_name">Thomas Campbell&#8217;s</span> &#8216;Woodman Spare that Beechen-Tree&#8217;
+			amended, equals the foregoing in the melody of its language or &#8216;breadth of effect.&#8217; Speaking
+			of songs: what can be more delightful than those of our fair correspondent Mrs.
+			<span class="special_name">Hewitt</span>? Her translations are excellent; and the words she has written for the use of that
+			great musical genius, <span class="special_name">Wallace</span>, in his romance of &#8216;Le Réve,&#8217; are &#8216;beautiful exceedingly.&#8217;
+			Mrs. <span class="special_name">Bailey</span>, a most pleasing <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">artiste</em>, well remembered here, has recently produced them at
+			her concerts in Baltimore, with great <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">éclat</em>. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">The &#8216;Spirit of the Times</span>,&#8217; with its
+			numerous and ample pages, filled to overflowing with a variety which always seems to
+			embrace &#8216;every thing that&#8217;s going;&#8217; whether relating to all sorts of matters interesting to
+			all sorts of sportsmen, or to literature, the drama, agricultural science, and the fine arts;
+			this same widely popular journal is now afforded at <span class="small_all_caps">FIVE DOLLARS A YEAR</span>! &#8216;Ask that gentleman
+			to sit down; he&#8217;s said enough!&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">Every-body</span> must remember the &#8216;Boots&#8217; who
+			figures in one of <span class="special_name">Dickens&#8217;</span> stories, who was wont to designate all the lodgers by the
+			names of their different kinds of boots, shoes, slippers, etc. The author of &#8216;<cite>The Two Patrons</cite>,&#8217;
+			a capital tale in the last number of <span class="special_name">Blackwood&#8217;s</span> Magazine, has a serving-man of
+			a similar kind, who in commenting upon the visitors at his master&#8217;s house, compares them
+			to diverse dishes, as shadowing forth the relative degrees of aristocracy. He establishes
+			some one supereminent article of food as a high ideal, to which all other kinds of edibles
+			are to be referred; and the farther removed from this imaginary point of perfection any
+			dish appears, the more vulgar and common-place it becomes: &#8216;They are low, uncommon
+			low; reg&#8217;lar b&#8217;iled mutton and turnips. They may be rich, but they a&#8217;nt genteel. Nothink
+			won&#8217;t do but to be at it from the very beginning; fight after it as much as they like; wear
+			the best of gownds, and go to the fustest of boarding-schools; though they plays ever so
+			well on the piando, and talks Italian like a reg&#8217;lar Frenchman, nothink won&#8217;t do; there&#8217;s
+			<a class="pagenum" id="page605" title="605">&nbsp;</a>the b&#8217;iled mutton and turnips sticking out still. Lady <span class="special_name">Charlotte</span>, now, is a werry different
+			affair; quite the roast fowl and bl&#8217;mange; how unlike <em>our</em> young ladies!&#8212;b&#8217;iled
+			veals and parsley and butters&#8212;shocking wulgarity! And look at the father: I never see
+			no gentleman with so broad a back, except p&#8217;raps a prize-ox.&#8217; There is another very amusing
+			character in the same story; one of those stupid matter-of-fact persons, who can never
+			appreciate a figure of speech, or understand the simplest jest. A &#8216;benign cerulean,&#8217; enthusiastic
+			for the &#8216;rights of the sex,&#8217; remarks that woman&#8217;s rights and duties are becoming
+			every day more widely appreciated. &#8216;The old-fashioned scale must be readjusted; and
+			woman, noble, elevating, surprising woman, ascend to the loftiest eminence, and sit superior
+			on the topmost branch of the social tree.&#8217; The ear of the matter-of-fact man catches
+			the last simile, and he ventures to say: &#8216;Uncommon bad climbers, for the most part in
+			general, is women. Their clothes isn&#8217;t adapted to it. I minds once I seen a woman climb
+			a pole after a leg of mutting!&#8217; If looks could have killed the mal-apropos speaker, he
+			would not have survived the reception which this ridiculous remark encountered from every
+			guest at the table. He was himself struck with the mournful silence that followed his observation,
+			and added, by way of explanation: &#8216;That was a thing as happing&#8217;d on a pole;
+			in coors it would be werry different on a tree, because of the branches.&#8217; At length, however,
+			the theme of woman is renewed by the former advocate: &#8216;Woman has not yet received
+			her full development. The time will come when her influence shall be universal;
+			when, softened, subdued, and elevated, the animal now called Man will be unknown.
+			You will be all women: can the world look for a higher destiny?&#8217; &#8216;In coors,&#8217; observed
+			the old spoon, &#8216;if we are all turned into woming, the world will come to an end. For
+			&#8216;spose a case; &#8216;spose it had been my sister as married my wife, instead of me; it&#8217;s probable
+			there would&#8217;nt have been no great fambly; wich in coors, if there was no population&#8212;&#8212;&#8217;
+			What the fearful result of this supposed case would have been, was not permitted to transpire.
+			The feminine &#8216;b&#8217;iled veals and parsley and butters&#8217; immediately rose and left the
+			table, and the matter-of-fact man to the ridicule of the male guests. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> If our metropolitan
+			friend &#8216;S.,&#8217; who has disappointed us in a paper intended for the present number,
+			&#8216;by reason of that contemptible disorder, dyspepsia,&#8217; will take our advice, he will not be
+			likely to fail us again, from a similar cause. Let him walk, as we do, some six or eight
+			miles every day; and above all, pay frequent visits to our old friend Dr. <span class="special_name">Rabineau&#8217;s</span> spacious
+			and delightful <em>Salt-Water Swimming Bath</em>, near Castle-Garden; always remembering
+			to make free use of his &#8216;crash towels.&#8217; Dyspepsia never made a call upon us; and it
+			&#8216;doesn&#8217;t associate with any body&#8217; that keeps company with that public benefactor, Dr.
+			<span class="special_name">Rabineau</span>. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> We should be reluctant to introduce the annexed profane story to our
+			readers, but that it forcibly illustrates a characteristic vice of the wandering natives of a
+			little island across the water, who are never at a loss for &#8216;themes of disgust&#8217; in relation to
+			America, and the &#8216;revolting habits&#8217; of American citizens. On the continent, an Englishman
+			is universally known by the <em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">soubriquet</em> of &#8216;Signor <span class="special_name">Goddam</span>; and many of our readers
+			wilt remember <span class="special_name">Byron&#8217;s</span> anecdote of the pompous Italian in London, who was desirous of
+			imitating the English style in the British metropolis. &#8216;Bring me,&#8217; said he, with an imperious
+			tone, &#8216;bring me some wine! Why don&#8217;t you bring him?&#8217; The servant answered:
+			&#8216;I will, Sir.&#8217; &#8216;You <em>will</em>?&#8217; rejoined the Italian; &#8216;you <em>will</em>, eh? <span class="special_name">Goddam</span>, you <span class="small_all_caps">MUSHT</span>!&#8217; And
+			this settled the question. But to the story &#8216;under notice,&#8217; which was picked up by our correspondent
+			at Cairo, in Egypt:</p>
+
+			<blockquote>
+				<p>&#8216;An impetuous Englishman, unacquainted with any language but his own, was desirous of seeing
+				Egypt, and satisfying himself by occular demonstration of the truth of the many wonders which he
+				had heard of that celebrated land. To get to Alexandria was easy enough; and some acquaintances
+				whom he had picked up on the way, kindly facilitated his journey to the Nile, and saw him fairly
+				afloat in his <em>cangea</em> for Cairo. But here, left with an Arab captain, and five swarthy Egyptians, his
+				difficulties commenced, and without knowing a single word of Arabic, he had to depend on his own
+				resources. The boats on the Nile are very ticklish flat-bottomed affairs, wretchedly handled. Before
+				the wind they rush up like steamers, but on a wind, go to lee-ward like feathers; while in consequence
+				of the Nile being full of shifting sand-banks, with a daily varying depth of water, they are
+				continually running aground in the middle of the river. To this add the laziness of the captain and
+				<a class="pagenum" id="page606" title="606">&nbsp;</a>crew, to whom time was of no consequence; to-day, to-morrow, the next day, or a week hence, was all
+				the same to them; they had no preferment to look forward to, no release from labor but death; and
+				wisely enough, perhaps, exerted themselves as little as they could. &#8216;<em>Inshalla!</em> <span class="special_name">God</span> was great, and
+				the sun was hot! Why should they weary themselves?&#8217; And so they took every opportunity to rest,
+				cook their miserable fare, and dawdle the listless hours away. Of these dilatory habits of the natives
+				the Englishman had been warned, and that whenever it happened, he was to prevent them from
+				stopping, and force them to go on.</p>
+
+				<p>&#8216;The opportunity was not long wanting. Without any reason sufficiently apparent to him, the huge
+				stone fastened to a coir cable, and doing duty for an anchor, was dropped overboard, and the crew
+				betook themselves to sleep. What was to be done? Of Arabic he had not a word to tell them to
+				proceed; but he had plenty of English; so by dint of shaking his stick at the captain, and a somewhat
+				boisterous &#8216;G-d d&#8212;n your eyes!&#8217; roared out in a tone sufficiently indicative of his wishes,
+				the primitive &#8216;anchor&#8217; was got up, and onward they proceeded. Delighted to find his most British
+				remonstrance succeed, he did not let it rust for want of practice; but every time the lazy crew attempted
+				to &#8216;bring to,&#8217; the stamp, the roar, and the shake of the stick, with the never-failing objurgation,
+				were resorted to, and invariably with the same results. The passage up to Cairo averages three
+				days, but vessels have been known to be as many as nine. Seven, eight, nine days past; twelve, fourteen;
+				yet as if by magic, Grand Cairo seemed to recede before them. No time had been lost by him,
+				for the wind had been strong in their favor, and he scarcely allowed the crew to take the necessary
+				rest. It was very odd how greatly had he been misinformed in the distance! The very maps too
+				seemed leagued against him; his manifold measurings and calculations were of no apparent avail.
+				At last, at rising on the morning-of the fifteenth day, he found himself at anchor off a strange tumble-down-looking
+				town, which by signs the captain gave him to understand was the place of his destination.
+				Could that be &#8216;Grand Cairo!&#8217; How odd! But then he was in a country of oddities; and on
+				stepping ashore, he encountered a sun-burnt English-looking man gazing earnestly at the new arrival.</p>
+
+				<p>&#8216;Is this Grand Cairo, Sir?&#8217; inquired the astonished novice.</p>
+
+				<p>&#8216;Grand Cairo, Sir! Good <span class="special_name">God</span>, no! This is Kennah, a thousand miles beyond! Why, how the
+				devil did you manage to get up here without knowing it? Do you speak Arabic?&#8217;</p>
+
+				<p>&#8216;Not a word!&#8217;</p>
+
+				<p>&#8216;Umph! What language then <em>did</em> you speak?&#8217;</p>
+
+				<p>&#8216;No other than English; but when they stopped, I d&#8212;d their eyes soundly, and they seemed to
+				understand very well what <em>that</em> meant, for they were up anchor and off in a jiffy!&#8217;</p>
+
+				<p>The stranger, who spoke Arabic fluently, sought an explanation of the native captain, and the
+				mystery was quickly solved.</p>
+
+				<p>&#8216;How did you contrive to get up here, <span class="special_name">Ryis</span>, instead of stopping at Cairo?&#8217;</p>
+
+				<p>&#8216;Why, Effendim, the Frank was the most impatient man in the world: no sooner did we stop to
+				cook, to rest, or for the wind, than stick in hand, and raving with passion, he stamped on the deck,
+				and with a gesture too imperious to be mistaken, shouted the only Arabic sentence which he seemed
+				to know, which was &#8216;<em>Goddam</em> Ryis!&#8217;&#8212;and &#8216;<em>Inshallah!</em>&#8217; we got no rest, but were forced to work like
+				devils. We passed Bourlac (Cairo) in the night, and <em>Allah Kherim!</em> here we are at a town which
+				none of you Christians pass without stopping.&#8217;</p>
+
+				<p>&#8216;<em>God-dam</em>&#8217; is very good Arabic for &#8216;go on;&#8217; and &#8216;Ry-i-s,&#8217; means &#8216;captain.&#8217; &#8216;G-d d&#8212;n your
+				eyes!&#8217; however thoroughly English it may seem to cockneys, is very tolerable Arabic for &#8216;Go on,
+				captain!&#8217; (<em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">en avant</em>.)</p>
+			</blockquote>
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="gossip_section">
+			<p>&#8216;<cite>A Story of Sorrow and Crime</cite>&#8217; is an affecting monitory sketch, devoid of that mawkishness
+			which is sometimes the characteristic of kindred performances. The writer&#8217;s reflections
+			upon the career of his hero, remind us of that beautiful passage in one of <span class="special_name">Blair&#8217;s</span>
+			essays: &#8216;Life is short: the poor pittance of seventy years is worth being a villain for.
+			What matters it if your neighbor lies in a splendid tomb? Sleep you with innocence!
+			Look behind you through the track of time; a vast desert lies open in the retrospect;
+			through this desert have your fathers journeyed on, until wearied with years and sorrows,
+			they sunk from the walks of men. You must leave them where they fell, and you are to
+			go a little farther, where you will find eternal rest. Whatever you may have to encounter
+			between the cradle and the grave, every moment is big with innumerable events, which
+			come not in slow succession, but bursting forcibly from a revolving and unknown cause,
+			fly over this orb with diversified influence.&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> &#8216;F. P.&#8217;s &#8216;<cite>Western Adventures</cite>&#8217; have
+			good <em>points</em> about them, but if published entire, would we think disappoint himself perhaps
+			as much as his readers. Here is an anecdote, however, which is worth &#8216;jotting down&#8217; in
+			types: &#8216;I met not long after in New-York a man who had just been induced to rent the
+			very hotel in Kentucky which was the scene of the reverses I have been describing.
+			Aware that I had at one time kept the establishment, he was anxious to know my opinion
+			of its pecuniary promise. &#8216;I don&#8217;t expect to make much the first year,&#8217; said he; &#8216;I shall
+			be satisfied if I &#8216;realize&#8217; all expenses. But do you think I shall clear myself the first year?&#8217;
+			&#8216;I haven&#8217;t the slightest doubt of it,&#8217; I replied; &#8216;<em>I cleared myself</em> before the first six months
+			were up, and was d&#8212;d <em>glad</em> to get off so; and I rather guess that <em>you&#8217;ll</em> be too, in about
+			half that time.&#8217; And he was!&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> Could there be a more affecting picture than that
+			of a fond mother learning for the first time from the tell-tale prattle of her little ones that
+			<a class="pagenum" id="page607" title="607">&nbsp;</a>she is &#8216;given over to darkness and the worm&#8217; by her friends, who had disguised from her
+			the fatal truth? Such is the scene depicted in these pathetic lines:</p>
+
+			<div class="poem">
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">He</span> speaketh now: &#8216;Oh, mother dear!&#8217;</p>
+					<p class="i2">Murmurs the little child:</p>
+					<p>And there is trouble in his eyes,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Those large blue eyes so mild:</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p>&#8216;Oh, mother dear! they say that soon,</p>
+					<p class="i2">When here I seek for thee</p>
+					<p>I shall not find thee&#8212;nor out there,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Under the old oak-tree;</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p>&#8216;Nor up stairs in the nursery,</p>
+					<p class="i2">Nor any where, they say:</p>
+					<p>Where wilt thou go to, mother dear?</p>
+					<p class="i2">Oh, do not go away!&#8217;</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p>There was long silence, a deep hush,</p>
+					<p class="i2">And then the child&#8217;s low sob:</p>
+					<p><em>Her</em> quivering eyelids close: one hand</p>
+					<p class="i2">Keeps down the heart&#8217;s quick throb.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p>And the lips move, though sound is none,</p>
+					<p class="i2">That inward voice is prayer.</p>
+					<p>And hark! &#8216;<span class="special_name">Thy</span> will, O <span class="special_name">Lord</span>, be done!&#8217;</p>
+					<p class="i2">And tears are trickling there&#8212;</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p>Down that pale cheek, on that young head;</p>
+					<p class="i2">And round her neck he clings;</p>
+					<p>And child and mother murmur out</p>
+					<p class="i2">Unutterable things.</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p><em>He</em> half unconscious, <em>she</em> deep-struck</p>
+					<p class="i2">With sudden, solemn truth,</p>
+					<p>That number&#8217;d are her days on earth&#8212;</p>
+					<p class="i2">Her shroud prepared in youth:</p>
+				</div>
+
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p>That all in life her heart holds dear</p>
+					<p class="i2"><span class="special_name">God</span> calls her to resign:</p>
+					<p>She hears, feels, trembles&#8212;but looks up,</p>
+					<p class="i2">And sighs &#8216;<span class="special_name">Thy</span> will be mine!&#8217;&#8217;</p>
+				</div>
+			</div>
+
+		</div>
+
+		<div class="gossip_section">
+			<p>&#8216;<span class="first_word">I came</span> down from Albany the other evening,&#8217; writes a correspondent, &#8216;in that floating
+			palace, the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> steamer; I slept in your <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> state-room; arrived
+			in town, I took after dinner a <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> omnibus, and rode up to the &#8216;Westminster
+			Abbey Bowling Saloon,&#8217; named of <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>; I called on you with my article for
+			the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> Magazine; and on my way down, enjoyed a delightful ablution at
+			the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> Bath; stepped into the <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> Theatre, and &#8216;laughed consumedly&#8217;
+			over an amusing play; and finally, closed with a cup of delicious tea, green and
+			black, and anchovy-toast, at <span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span> Hall. Every thing, I was glad to see, was
+			<span class="special_name">Knickerbocker</span>.&#8217; Very flattering; yet we dare say our friend was not aware that this
+			Magazine was the <em>pioneer</em> in the use of this popular name in Gotham, and that its example
+			has suggested, one after another, the namesakes to which he has alluded. Such, howbeit,
+			is the undeniable fact. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> remarked the example of <em>catachresis</em> to which &#8216;L.&#8217;
+			alludes, and laughed at it, we venture to say, as heartily as himself. It was not quite so
+			glaring however as the confused images of a celebrated Irish advocate: &#8216;I smell a rat; I see
+			it brewing in the storm; and I will crush it in the bud!&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> find several things to
+			admire in our Detroit friend&#8217;s &#8216;<cite>Tale of Border Warfare</cite>;&#8217; but he can&#8217;t &#8216;talk Indian&#8217;&#8212;that
+			is very clear. The &#8216;abrogynes&#8217; are not in the habit of making interminable speeches:
+			they leave that to white members of Congress, who pump up a feeling in a day&#8217;s speech
+			&#8216;for Buncombe.&#8217; Do you remember what <span class="special_name">Halleck</span> says of <span class="special_name">Red-Jacket</span>?</p>
+
+
+			<div class="poem">
+				<div class="stanza">
+					<p>&#8216;The spell of eloquence is thine, that reaches</p>
+					<p class="i2">The heart, and makes the wisest head its sport;</p>
+					<p>And there&#8217;s one rare, strange virtue in thy speeches,</p>
+					<p class="i2">The secret of their mastery&#8212;<em>they are short</em>.&#8217;</p>
+				</div>
+			</div>
+
+			<p>Not one man in a thousand can talk or write the true &#8216;Indian.&#8217; Our friend <span class="special_name">Sa-go-sen-o-ta</span>,
+			formerly known as Col. <span class="special_name">William L. Stone</span>, is one of the best Indian writers in this
+			country. His late letter &#8216;To the Sachems, Chiefs, and Warriors of the Seneca Indians,&#8217;
+			acknowledging the honor they had done him in electing him a chief, is a perfect thing in
+			its kind. May it be long before the &#8216;<span class="special_name">Master of Breath</span>&#8217; shall call him to &#8216;the fair
+			hunting-grounds, through clouds bright as fleeces of gold, upon a ladder as beautiful as
+			the rainbow!&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">Our</span> entertaining &#8216;<cite>Dartmoor Prisoner</cite>&#8217; has a pleasant story of a fellow-captive
+			who on one occasion performed that &#8216;cautionary&#8217; experiment which is sometimes
+			denominated &#8216;putting your foot in it.&#8217; The term is of legitimate origin, it should seem.
+			According to the <cite>Asiatic Researches</cite>, a very curious mode of trying the title to land is practised
+			in Hindostan. Two holes are dug in the disputed spot, in each of which the lawyers
+			on either side put one of their legs, and remain there until one of them is tired, or
+			<a class="pagenum" id="page608" title="608">&nbsp;</a>complains of being stung by the insects, in which case his client is defeated. In this country
+			it is the client and not the lawyer who &#8216;puts his foot into it!&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> have commenced
+			in the present, and shall conclude in our next number, a &#8216;<cite>Legend of the Conquest of
+			Spain</cite>,&#8217; by <span class="special_name">Washington Irving</span>. We derive it from the same source whence we received
+			the &#8216;Legend of Don <span class="special_name">Roderick</span>,&#8217; lately published in these pages. We commend its graphic
+			limnings and stirring incidents to the admiration of our readers. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">A friend</span> and correspondent
+			in a sister city dashes in with a rich brush, in one of his familiar letters to us,
+			a sketch of a boss-painter, who was renovating the writer&#8217;s house with sundry pots of paint;
+			a conceited, half-informed prig, who having grown rich, talks of &#8216;going to Europe in the
+			steam-boat,&#8217; and has a huge fancy for seeing Italy. &#8216;Yes,&#8217; said the house-and-sign <span class="special_name">Raphael</span>,
+			&#8216;I must see Rome and Athens; them Romans allers made a great impression on me;
+			the land of <span class="special_name">Apelles</span> and <span class="special_name">Xerxes</span>; ah! that must be worth travelling for.&#8217; &#8216;Would you
+			not rather run over England?&#8217; I asked; but the ass <em>poohed</em> at England, and on the strength
+			of his daubing our house-blinds, claimed an interest in the Fine Arts abroad: &#8216;No, Sir,
+			give me Italy&#8212;the Loover and the Vattykin; them&#8217;s the places for my money! Gods!
+			how I should like to rummage over them old-masters! They beat <em>us</em> all hollow&#8212;that&#8217;s
+			a fact. I&#8217;ll give in to them. There never was such painters before, nor never will be.
+			I want to study &#8217;em.&#8217; &#8216;Yes,&#8217; I rejoined; &#8216;&#8217;twould interest you, doubtless; and after
+			having studied the great painters in Italy, you might return by way of Switzerland, and
+			scrape acquaintance with the <em>glaciers</em>.&#8217; The booby did not <em>take</em>, but only stared and said:
+			&#8216;Oh, they&#8217;re famous for glass-work there, be they?&#8217; This lover of the Fine Arts had a
+			counterpart in the man who having &#8216;made as much money as he wanted by tradin&#8217; in
+			Boston,&#8217; went &#8216;a-travelling abroad;&#8217; and while in Florence, called on <span class="special_name">Powers</span> the sculptor,
+			with a design to &#8216;patronize&#8217; him a little. After looking at his &#8216;Greek Slave,&#8217; his &#8216;Eve,&#8217; and
+			other gems of art, he remarked that he &#8216;thought they&#8217;d look a good &#8217;eal better if they had
+			some clothes on. I&#8217;m pretty well off,&#8217; he continued, &#8216;and ha&#8217;n&#8217;t a chick nor child in the
+			world; and I thought I&#8217;d price a <em>statty</em> or two. What&#8217;s the damage, now, for that one
+			you&#8217;re peckin&#8217; at?&#8217; &#8216;It should be worth from four to five thousand dollars, I think,&#8217; answered
+			<span class="special_name">Powers</span>. &#8216;What! five thousand dollars for <em>that &#8217;are</em>! I cal&#8217;lated to buy me a
+			piece of <em>stattyary</em> before I went home, but <em>that&#8217;s</em> out of the question! <em>Hasn&#8217;t stattyary riz
+			lately?</em> How&#8217;s paintin&#8217;s here now?&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">Just</span> complaints are made by our city contemporaries
+			of the exorbitant rates of postage upon weekly periodicals. Mr. <span class="special_name">Willis</span> complains,
+			in the &#8216;<cite>New-Mirror</cite>&#8217; weekly journal, that country postmasters charge so much
+			postage on that periodical by mail, that in many cases it would make the work cost to its
+			country subscribers something like ten dollars a year! All postage in this country is at
+			too high a rate; and so long as it remains so, the law will continue to be evaded. &#8216;Cheating
+			<span class="special_name">Uncle Sam</span>&#8217; is not considered a very heinous offence. There is nothing one robs with so
+			little compunction as one&#8217;s country. It is at the very worst robbing only eighteen millions of
+			people. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">The</span> lines sent us in rejoinder to the stanzas of &#8216;C. W. D.,&#8217; in a late issue,
+			would not be <em>original</em> in our pages; nor could we hope to have many <em>new</em> readers for them,
+			after they have appeared in, and of course been copied from, that exceedingly pleasant
+			and well-edited daily journal, the <cite>Boston Evening Transcript</cite>. <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">Hauffman</span>, the German
+			poet, was recently expelled from the Prussian dominions, and all his works proscribed
+			thenceforth. &#8216;Served him right;&#8217; for in one of his works appears the &#8216;word following, to
+			wit:&#8217; &#8216;<em>Sleuerverweigerungsverfassungsmassigberechtig</em>!&#8217;&#8212;meaning a man who is exempt
+			by the constitution from the payment of taxes. &#8216;Myscheeves thick&#8217; must needs follow
+			such terrific words. &#8216;We have heard,&#8217; says a London critic, in allusion to this jaw-breaker,
+			&#8216;of a gentleman, a member of the <em>Marionettenschauspielhausengesellschaft</em>, who was said to
+			be an excellent performer on the &#8216;<em>Constantinopolitanischetudelsackpfeife</em>!&#8217;&#8217; <span class="ed_table_break">&bull;&bull;&bull;</span> <span class="first_word">We</span> owe
+			a word of apology to our friends the publishers, for the omission of notices which we
+			had prepared of their publications, and which are crowded out by our title-page and index,
+			that were forgotten until the last moment. We shall &#8216;bring up arrears&#8217; in our next.</p>
+		</div>
+
+	</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<div id="footnotes">
+	<h2 class="title">Footnotes</h2>
+	<ol class="fnlist">
+		<li>
+			<p id="footnote_1"><span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm1">Return to text</a></span><span class="special_name">Stephen B. Wilson</span>, Esq.</p>
+		</li>
+		<li>
+			<p id="footnote_2"><span class="returnFN"><a href="#fnm2">Return to text</a></span>A new public library and reading-room in Berlin.</p>
+
+		</li>
+	</ol>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly
+Magazine, June 1844, by Various
+
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+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly
+Magazine, June 1844, by Various
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly Magazine, June 1844
+       Volume 23, Number 6
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: Lewis Gaylord Clark
+
+Release Date: May 15, 2008 [EBook #25475]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KNICKERBOCKER ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+    T H E  K N I C K E R B O C K E R.
+
+VOL. XXIII.      JUNE, 1844.       NO. 6.
+
+
+
+
+THE PLAGUE AT CONSTANTINOPLE.
+
+BY AN EYE-WITNESS.
+
+
+In 1837 I was a resident in Galata, one of the faubourgs of Constantinople,
+sufficiently near the scenes of death caused by the ravages of the plague
+to be thoroughly acquainted with them, and yet to be separated from the
+Turkish part of the population of that immense city. It is not material to
+the present sketch to dwell upon the subject of my previous life, or the
+causes which had induced me to visit the capital of the East at such a
+period of mortality; and I will therefore only add, that circumstances of
+a peculiarly painful nature obliged me to locate myself in Galata, where
+there were none to sympathize in my feelings, or any one with whom I could
+even exchange more than a word of conversation. I saw none but the widowed
+owner of the house in which I had a chamber, her daughter Aleuka, and
+Petraki, her little son.
+
+While the epidemic raged, we four endeavored to keep up a rigid
+quarantine. Each recommended to the other the strictest observance of our
+mutual agreement not to receive any thing from without doors, except the
+necessaries of life; and whenever we left the house, which was to be as
+seldom as possible, not to come in contact with any one. Whenever I went
+out I invariably wore an oil-cloth cloak, and by the aid of my cane
+prevented the dogs of the streets, which are there so numerous, from
+rubbing against me. If I visited any one, which I seldom did, I always sat
+on a bench or chair to prevent conveying or receiving contagion; and
+before even entering the house, I always underwent the preparation of
+being smoked in a box, which during the prevalence of the plague is placed
+near its entrance for that purpose. These boxes were some eight feet high
+by three square, the platform on which the feet rested elevated about a
+foot above the earth, so as to admit under it a dish containing the
+ingredients of the prophylactic, and a hole in the door to let the face
+out during the smoking of the clothes and body. We procured our daily
+supply of provisions from a _Bak-kal_, a retail grocer, whose shop was
+directly under our front window; an itinerant _Ekmekjer_, or bread-man,
+brought our bread to the door; our vegetables were procured from a
+gardener close by, and our water we drew from a cistern under the house:
+in fine, our food was either smoked or saturated before we touched it, and
+every possible precaution observed to cut our little family off from the
+dreadful scourge, 'the pestilence which walketh in darkness and the
+destruction which wasteth at noon day.' The mother and daughter throughout
+the day spun silk, knitted woolen suits, or embroidered kerchiefs for head
+dresses, called in Romaic _fakiolee_, and even to a late hour of the night
+they frequently continued the same employment, until the plague prevented
+the sale of their handiwork, and their materials were all used up. All day
+long they would sit upon the sofa of their little apartment, facing the
+street, and while their hands toiled for a subsistence, the widow's
+daughter hummed a plaintive air, or occasionally broke the silence by
+conversing with her mother. The son was yet too young to be of assistance
+to his desolate mother and sister, and except when he said his letters to
+them, spent the day in idleness. As to my own employment, the dull period
+of time passed with them was a blank in my existence; and yet, such is the
+influence of past penury and pain, that I now recall them with pleasure.
+
+The weather was generally very warm, and south-west breezes over the sea
+of Marmora prevailed. From our highest windows we could observe sluggish
+seamen lounging on the decks of their vessels in the port, afraid to land
+amid the pestilence. Here and there a vessel strove against the current of
+the Bosphorus to gain an anchorage; or would slowly float down that stream
+into the open sea, on its way to healthier and happier Europe. The
+starving dogs at nightfall would howl dismally, bewailing the loss of the
+benevolent hands from which they usually received their food; the gulls
+and cormorants floated languidly over our dwelling, overpowered by the
+heat; and the dead silence, which in the afternoon and evenings prevailed,
+made a most melancholy and affecting impression on my mind.
+
+The plague that summer, (I may limit the period to three months,) carried
+off more than fifty thousand persons. For some time the mortality amounted
+to a thousand _per diem_. The number of corpses which passed the limited
+range of my window daily increased; and after witnessing the spectacle for
+some time, I always insensibly avoided the sight of the dead, and felt a
+cold shudder run over my frame whenever the voice of the priest
+accompanying the corpses struck my ear. So dreadful is the malady, so
+surely contagious, and so mortal, that so soon as attacked, the
+unfortunate being is deserted by relatives and friends, and when dead, two
+or four porters beside a priest were generally the only persons who
+attended the body to the grave. When the deceased is a Mussulman, he is
+more frequently attended during his illness, and after death to his tomb,
+than if a Christian. With the former, the plague is a visitation of
+Providence, from which it is both useless and a sin to escape, while with
+the latter not only is it deemed necessary to provide for one's own life,
+but even to do so at the sacrifice of the dearest friend. Often I noticed
+a dead body tied on a plank which a single porter carried on his back; at
+other times the object would be concealed within a bag, and then the grave
+was a ditch common to all, into which the porter would shake off his load
+and return for another. No priest or Imam there presided over the funeral
+scene; few or none were the prayers that were said over the remains: he
+who but a short week before had been proud of his strength or condition,
+or she who in the same short space of time previous excelled in beauty and
+grace, there lay confounded in one neglected, unhonored, and putrefying
+mass. The air became impregnated with the effluvia; the houses around the
+Turkish cemeteries, which are mostly in the heart of the city, where the
+dead are interred, but some three feet beneath the surface, were soon
+deserted, their owners dead. The ever-green cypress trees under whose
+umbrageous quiet the beautiful children once played, now moaned over their
+little graves; and in fine, every one in the deserted city walked with
+measured steps, apprehensive of threatening death: awe and consternation
+filled the minds of all.
+
+The Sultan's own household was not free from the scourge. By some means it
+found access to his servants and carried off about fifty of them. Their
+bodies were cast into the Bosphorus, and the Sultan fled to another
+palace. The ministers of the Sublime Porte suffered severely in their
+families; their wives and slaves died off in numbers; and even the
+minister of foreign affairs is said to have taken it and narrowly escaped.
+Few survived when once attacked, and the chances of recovery were scarcely
+worth calculating. And yet among the Mussulmans little or no precaution
+was taken; for although by a government order all the principal offices
+were provided with fumigatory boxes, they were seldom used. The Mussulman
+Sheiks declared that the contagion came from Heaven, and could only be
+averted by Almighty power. Yet it was a well-known fact that cleanliness
+of habits went far toward preserving against the disease; and frequent
+change of apparel, with ordinary precautions, sufficed to preserve many
+who otherwise would doubtless have taken it.
+
+But I think the reader will be able, from the preceding sketch, to form
+some idea of the nature and extent of the mortality of the plague in 1837.
+While it raged, every feeling approaching to a similarity with what is
+known to denote an attack, excites apprehension. A pimple, through the
+medium of the imagination, is transformed into a horrid _bubo_; a cold or
+a simple head-ache, however trifling, are attributed to the dreaded
+malady; and even the firmest mind at such times quails under trifling
+appearances. In some cases the scene of agony closes in a few hours--even
+minutes; they fall down and almost immediately expire. Others linger for
+twenty-four or forty-eight hours, or several days elapse before death puts
+an end to their sufferings. Some again bear it in their systems for
+several days, and attend to their usual occupations: at length it appears,
+they fall ill and expire, or recover. Few account for their being
+attacked; they do not remember having touched any one suspected or
+exposed; and again, the porters, whose duty it is to convey the attacked
+to the hospitals and the corpses to their graves, escape. The mother
+attends upon her dying child, sacrifices every apprehension to her
+affection, and yet escapes, or the child brings it to its parent, who
+dies, while the innocent cause survives. No cure has yet been found for
+it; and Nature must be left to take her course. Extreme heat or cold have
+a favorable effect upon it; but the temperate climate of Constantinople,
+with the frequent dearth of water, the dust, and other impurities, tend
+greatly to its dissemination.
+
+It was therefore during this painful period that I resided in Galata;
+free, as I had hoped, from the contagion; and yet it found its way into
+our little family, accompanied by all its horrors.
+
+One morning in the latter part of the month of October, invited by the
+clearness of the air and a fresh breeze which had scarcely strength
+sufficient to ruffle the water of the harbor, I left my humble apartment
+and ascended the steep hill of Pera. The view--from the small tuft of
+graves near the Galata tower, some of which were fresh; of the surrounding
+villages and the great city itself, where, although devastation had been
+and still was being carried on with horror, there seemed to reign the most
+perfect tranquility, resembling the calm bosom of the treacherous sea,
+quiet over the lifeless bodies of its victims and the wreck of the noble
+vessels which had furrowed its surface--relieved the monotony of my
+existence. I gazed longingly upon the many ships lying before me at anchor
+in the stream, which could in a few days bear me far away from the scenes
+of death and desolation that surrounded me; or I exchanged a word with any
+passing acquaintance who ventured from Pera to his counting-house in
+Galata. A longer walk gave rise to too many sad reflections. Farther on
+was the _Petit Champ des Morts_, a small Turkish cemetery, here and there
+spotted with new-made graves, over which more than one aged female mourned
+the loss of her life's companion, or perhaps it would be one of fewer
+years, who wept the fatal destiny of her young husband, brother, sister,
+or child.
+
+After spending the best part of the day in walking about, I returned to
+the house of my residence. As usual, I found the door fastened; I knocked,
+but no one answered me. Again I knocked, and called repeatedly before my
+voice was heard. At length a low moan, and then a scream, issued from
+within. Petraki, the widow's son, opened the door, and with a pale and
+frightened countenance told me his mother had suddenly been taken very
+ill. There was no alternative. I entered her sitting-room, where in the
+company of the family I had spent many quiet hours. Now how changed! The
+mother lay upon the sofa, pale; and breathing with difficulty. Aleuka, the
+daughter, knelt by her side on the floor, though greatly agitated herself,
+and endeavoring to calm her mother's apprehensions. Without once
+reflecting on the possible consequences, I sat down on a chair beside the
+sufferer, felt her pulse, and as well as I could, made inquiries after her
+health. Her pulse was quick, her tongue white and thickly furred, and
+extreme lassitude was shown by her dejected countenance. Uncertain as to
+the nature of her disease, and unable to offer any alleviation of her
+sufferings, I retired to my apartment. There I _did_ reflect on the danger
+which I had incurred, and the possibility of the widow having caught the
+plague.
+
+Every hour she became worse; her sufferings were intensely painful; and to
+shorten the recital of the sad scene of that night, I will only add, that
+the horrid disease showed itself on her person before midnight, and at
+break of day her spirit fled. Of course my mind now prepared for death. I
+felt confident that I also should soon be a victim to the plague. Early in
+the morning I called a passing priest and had the widow's remains conveyed
+to their last abode--I knew not where. I had no place to fly to; every
+door would be closed against me; and I retired to my apartment, feeling
+that I was stepping into my tomb while yet alive. There I was not long
+kept in suspense, for soon the plague attacked first Petraki then myself.
+When giddiness, the first symptom of the plague, seized me, and I could no
+longer stand, but fell despairingly on my bed, what were my feelings! But
+let me not recall them _now_; the mental agony which I suffered it is
+impossible to describe, and I shudder at the recollection. Aleuka attended
+upon me and her brother with all the tenderness and care and forgetfulness
+of self which is so characteristic of the female character. I begged her
+to leave me to die alone, to place water by my side and depart, but she
+would not hear of it.
+
+The first night after his attack Petraki expired, and on the following
+morning was borne away; and I have an indistinct recollection of being
+visited on the evening of the same day by the priest and porters. They
+endeavored to prevail upon Aleuka to desert me, saying that in a few hours
+I would cease to exist. But she constantly refused, determined she
+replied, to remain by my side until my sufferings were ended.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+For several days I was delirious. I remember I knew of nothing; nothing
+but water passed my lips. Sores broke out over my body, and those on my
+groins and arm-pits were not closed for some months. My neck however was
+free, and this no doubt saved my life. On the seventh day I regained my
+senses, and found myself in my apartment, the wasted figure of my guardian
+angel still watching over me. I remember, on perceiving in me a favorable
+change, how her countenance was lit up with joy! Oh, Friendship! how
+seldom are you found with the sincerity which I then beheld in an humble
+and uneducated girl! Just when I thought all my prospects in life were
+blighted; when I had keenly felt the unkindness of mankind, and despaired
+of ever again finding any thing in this world worth living for; when I had
+already bidden it farewell, and the other world was full in view; I found
+what alone can make life delightful even in poverty and
+misfortune--friendship and love. Soon the violence of the disease abated,
+and I was saved.
+
+I must hastily pass over my long and painful convalescence. A month
+elapsed before I could venture to go beyond doors. Aleuka attended upon
+me, and through her economy my purse yet held out. The plague had greatly
+subsided; the month of December set in with uncommon severity of cold, and
+checked its progress. Oh! the exquisite delight with which I left my hard
+and burning bed and close apartment, the scenes of all my sufferings, for
+the first time! With a prayer of thankfulness on my lips, I crossed the
+threshold of the humble dwelling, and once more slowly mounted the steep
+hill of Pera.
+
+It was a bright, sunny, clear morning; the fresh, cool breeze from the
+Black Sea blew over me, infusing new strength and life into my shattered
+frame. The streets were again re-peopled, and business renewed. No one
+recognized me in my pale, haggard and swollen countenance; and when I
+presented myself at the door of a countryman in Pera, he drew back with an
+exclamation of surprise, as if he had beheld a spirit.
+
+My short story is told. I have comprised in a few words the tale of many
+long days of agony and suffering, both mental and corporeal. I fast
+regained my strength and vigor; the hollow furrows of my forehead and
+cheeks soon gave way to the effects of a generous diet; and I once more
+stood forth in health and full powers.
+
+But you will ask, 'And where is she who watched over you during your
+moments of suffering?--whom you called your guardian angel, and of whose
+friendship and love you spoke in such feeling terms?' I reply, that she
+sits even now at my side; her handsome and intelligent countenance reading
+in my face the varied emotions to which the tracing of these lines give
+rise. Devoted Aleuka is my loving and much-loved wife.
+
+                                                              J. P. B.
+
+
+
+
+A SONG
+
+BY JOHN WATERS.
+
+
+Time was I thought that precious name
+  Less meet for Court than Alley;
+But now, no thrilling sound hath Fame,
+  No clarion note, like SALLY!
+
+There seems at first, within the word,
+  Some cause to smile, or rally;
+But once by her sweet glance preferr'd,
+  Ev'n Heaven itself loves SALLY!
+
+The world moves round when move her Eyes,
+  Grace o'er each step doth dally,
+The breath is lost in glad surprize;
+  There is no belle, like SALLY!
+
+Old hearts grow young, off flies the gout,
+  Time stops, his Glass to rally;
+I hardly know what I'm about--
+  When lost in thought on SALLY!
+
+Sometimes she's small, sometimes she's tall,
+  I can't tell how, vocally;
+For there's a spirit over all,
+  That beams abroad from SALLY!
+
+A spirit bright, a beam of light,
+  Ah! fear not that I rally--
+No man can Evil think in sight
+  Of this pure-hearted SALLY!
+
+And yet Time was, I thought the name
+  For Court less fit, than Alley;
+While now, no herald sound hath Fame,
+  No clarion note, but SALLY!
+
+
+
+
+REMINISCENCES OF A DARTMOOR PRISONER.
+
+NUMBER THREE.
+
+
+Under the circumstances related in my last number, it will readily be
+inferred that sleep was out of the question. The only alternative was to
+sit or lie down and meditate upon the next change which might befal us.
+There was but little disposition for merriment at such a time and place;
+yet there was one man, named John Young, but called by his companions 'Old
+John Young,' who in despite of empty stomach and aching limbs, amused
+himself and annoyed all others by singing a line of one and a verse of
+another, of all the old songs he could recollect from his earliest
+boyhood; dispensing his croaking melody with such untiring zeal as to keep
+the most weary awake had they been inclined to sleep.
+
+At break of day we began to try to move about, and gradually straighten
+ourselves, which was something of an effort, stiffened and benumbed as we
+were with remaining in our wet clothing so many hours. We had now an
+opportunity of examining our habitation. It was a building of about four
+hundred feet long, by seventy-five or eighty wide, three stories high, and
+built of stone, with massive doors and strongly-grated windows, the floors
+being of stone or cement, and perfectly fire-proof. Each floor formed one
+entire room, except being divided by five rows of posts running the whole
+length of the building, by which the prisoners slung their hammocks. The
+prisoners were divided off in 'messes' or families of six or eight, each
+occupying room sufficient to sit around one of their chests, which usually
+served as a mess-table. One row or tier of these messes were ranged next
+to the walls on each side, and two rows down the centre, back to back, as
+it were, leaving two avenues, or thoroughfares, the whole length of the
+building. The entire arrangement resembled the stalls in a stable, more
+than any thing else I can compare it to.
+
+There were seven of these prisons, all of about the same size and
+construction, one of which was not occupied. The whole was enclosed in a
+circular wall of about twenty feet high, and covering a space of from
+eight to ten acres of ground. This was divided in three parts by a wall
+similar to the outside one. The centre yard was occupied by No. 7,
+allotted to the colored prisoners, and the other two yards had three
+prisons in each. On the outside wall were platforms and sentry-boxes at
+short distances, for the guards. About fifteen feet within that wall was a
+high iron railing. In front of the main entrance was a large square, used
+for drilling soldiers and other purposes, and twice a week as a market for
+the country people; and on each side of this were the barracks and
+hospital, and in front of these were the officers' quarters. This depot
+was situated upon a hill, surrounded by a vast common of many miles in
+extent, without a bush or tree to relieve the dreary waste; and from its
+elevated position it was generally shrouded by clouds, rendering it chilly
+and uncomfortable the greater part of the year.
+
+The daily allowance of food consisted of a pound of beef, a pint of soup,
+and a pound of bread to each man; that is to say, at the rate of one
+hundred pounds of raw beef to an hundred men. The meat was cut up and put
+into large boilers, with sufficient barley to thicken it for soup. This
+was boiled until the meat would leave the bone, and the barley was well
+cooked; and when ready, was served up to the different messes. By the time
+each person got his beef it was almost too small to be seen, being shrunk
+up by long boiling; and the bone being taken out, it was no larger than a
+small-sized tea-cup. The pound of bread was not much larger: it was made
+of barley, slack-baked, and very dark, though sweet. Indeed it was good
+enough, what there was of it. On Fridays the fare was varied by the same
+amount in fish and potatoes.
+
+As some require more nutriment than others, the same quantity of fare did
+not satisfy all the prisoners alike. I frequently saw many of them devour
+their day's allowance at one meal without appeasing their hunger; and
+before the next day's rations were served out, they would be almost
+frantic from starvation. Some became so exhausted that they were compelled
+to go to the hospital until they recovered strength. Those who possessed a
+little money fared somewhat better, as they could indulge in the luxury of
+bullock's liver, fried in water for the want of fat, or a hot pumgudgeon
+fried in the same material. This exquisite dish is not appreciated
+according to its merits. It commonly bears the undignified title of
+'codfish-balls;' and is well known at the present day among our eastern
+brethren, though not held in the same veneration by them as clam-chowder.
+'Dartmoor pippins,' or potatoes, were also held in high estimation with
+us.
+
+Dartmoor prison was a world in miniature, with all its jealousies,
+envyings and strife. How shall I describe the scenes enacted within its
+walls? how portray the character of its inhabitants? If I but held the pen
+of DICKENS or the pencil of MOUNT, I might hope so to bring the objects
+before the mind's eye of the reader, that they would stand forth in full
+relief, inducing him almost to imagine that he stood in their midst.
+Though many years have rolled by since those events occurred, they still
+linger in my memory like the vivid scenes of a high-wrought drama; and
+often in the 'dead waste and middle of the night' do I revisit in my
+dreams scenes which I should be sorry to survey when awake.
+
+I think it one of the greatest blessings granted by an all-wise and
+benevolent CREATOR, that He has bestowed upon man an intellectual and
+physical capacity, which enables him to pass in comparative happiness many
+a lonely hour. Many were the aerial maps and charts laid down for our
+future journeyings through life, and plans formed, which were never to be
+realized. And perhaps all was for the best; for we are all creatures of
+circumstance. Not one in a thousand follows out his plans through life.
+Half of our existence is imaginary; and wise-acres may scoff as much as
+they please at what they term 'castle-building,' I believe all mankind
+indulge in it more or less; and it is an innocent, harmless pastime, which
+injures no one. I consider it the 'unwritten poetry,' the romance of life,
+which all feel; but many, like the dumb, strive in vain to give utterance
+to their thoughts.
+
+Many of the prisoners busied themselves in making some trifling article,
+which, while it afforded amusement, aided in obtaining for them a little
+money, and thereby added to their comfort. Many of the most ingenious
+specimens of art I ever saw were made there; some of which were models of
+vessels, of various classes, from the clipper-built brig to the
+line-of-battle ship; made too of beef bones, obtained from the cook. They
+were built up precisely like a large vessel; human hair twisted into ropes
+of suitable sizes being employed for rigging. When completed, they made a
+beautiful toy. Desks, work-boxes, etc., were also made here; violins, some
+of which were of excellent tone, were likewise constructed. But it would
+be useless to enumerate the endless variety of queer things made at this
+multifarious manufactory. Some organized a music-society, with various
+instruments, and used occasionally to give concerts; others got up a
+theatre, screening it off with bed covering. I recollect some pretty good
+performances among them. In short, all were employed in some way, to
+divert their minds from the contemplation of their miserable condition.
+Some would read while others listened; some practice fencing; some sing,
+some dance. Others would relate their adventures, many of which savored
+rather too strongly of the marvellous to be readily believed, while others
+partook in an equal degree of the ludicrous. One of these latter was
+related by 'Old John Young'--a tale of his early courtship. In his
+youthful days he lived somewhere in Pennsylvania, where also resided an
+old farmer, with his wife and two daughters, one of whom, contrary to the
+old gentleman's wishes, he used to visit. One night while there, unknown
+to the old people, they having retired, a huge pot of mush was left
+boiling over the fire, getting ready for the next day. Late in the evening
+the old gentleman called out for the girls to go to bed; and as they did
+not retire in time to suit him, he began to stir round, to see why his
+orders were not obeyed. Young, hearing him coming, took off his shoes to
+prevent a noise, and glided silently up a ladder into the loft above. The
+old farmer, having sent the girls to bed, lifted off the boiling pot,
+which by accident he placed at the foot of the ladder; then putting out
+the light, and covering the fire, he retired again to bed. When all was
+still and quiet, Young, with shoes in hand, stole down the ladder, and
+landed in the pot! Although badly burned, he escaped in some degree by
+having his stockings on. He left his tracks on the floor, but got out of
+the house unobserved. He had 'put his foot in it' in good earnest; and
+mounting his horse, he bade a final adieu to the old farmer and his
+family.
+
+Winter was now pretty well advanced, and many suffered for the want of
+clothing. After considerable delay, however, a small portion was sparingly
+dealt out, but was accepted by those only who stood in the utmost need.
+The cause was, that the agent or contractor, having a quantity of garments
+on hand, over what had been a sufficient supply for some English convicts,
+who had been confined here at some former period, they were now offered to
+us, but were rejected by all who could do without them. Those who did
+receive them, cut a curious figure! I can almost imagine one standing
+before me now, dressed in a jacket and trowsers of bright yellow cloth;
+and as they were served out indiscriminately, the consequence was, that
+large stalwart men were crammed into trowsers which looked more like
+breeches, and jackets with sleeves terminating at the elbows; and small
+men with jackets, the sleeves of which dangled far below the hands, and an
+extra length of pantaloons turned up to the knees; the whole figure
+surmounted by a knit-woollen cap, resembling an inverted wash-basin;
+coarse brogans completed the costume. Just pause a moment, reader, and
+contemplate the figure!
+
+What with starving and freezing, many became ill, and had to be removed to
+the hospital. This was what all dreaded; and the consequence was, they
+were so far gone before they went, that they survived but a short time
+after getting there, although it was understood that the physician was a
+skilful and humane man, and did all in his power to alleviate their
+distress. I was taken very ill with the dysentery. I know of no disease
+which brings a man down more rapidly. Two or three days weakened me so
+much that I could scarcely move; and with it came a despondency of mind
+that was almost insupportable. I had been for years a wayfarer in strange
+lands, but never, during the whole time, did I so forcibly feel the want
+of a home, and the solace and care of friends, as now. How did I long to
+be once more under my father's roof, with an affectionate mother and kind
+sister! I had a sad forboding that I should soon be numbered among the
+multitude whose spirits had ascended from their prison-house, and whose
+bodies were deposited outside the walls, in the ground assigned for that
+purpose.
+
+The small-pox had also appeared in our midst, spreading havoc on all
+sides; and despair seemed to rule triumphant. Of those who left for the
+hospital, but few returned to their comrades. Among those taken ill, was a
+young man who had been brought up on a farm. Like many others, he had left
+home to 'go a-privateering,' and was taken prisoner. He never saw home
+again. He messed just opposite to me, and was I think one of the most
+exquisite amateur performers on the violin that I ever heard. For hours
+have I listened with rapture to his delightful music. He was absent a day,
+and his instrument was silent. The next day I enquired for him; he had
+been taken suddenly ill, was removed to the hospital, and the second
+evening brought me tidings of his death. There was another one, who had
+been for weeks sullen and gloomy. Despair seemed to have thrown its pall
+over him. He conversed with none, but shunning his companions, spent the
+day muttering to himself. Early one morning he was discovered in a
+secluded part of the prison, cold and stiff. He had hung himself.
+
+And was there no one to look after the spiritual or temporal welfare of
+this mass of isolated beings? Was there none to soothe the troubled mind,
+to cheer the drooping spirit, nor to whisper hope in the ear of the
+desponding? Was there none of God's 'messengers of glad tidings' to offer
+consolation to the dying, and a prayer for mercy on the departing spirit
+of his suffering fellow-being? No; not one minister of the gospel, of any
+denomination, did I see while I was there; nor did I hear of any having
+been there, at any time; nor was there any person to see that the
+prisoners had suitable beds and clothing, or that their food was
+wholesome, during the many months that I was there. I was told that REUBEN
+G. BEASLY, who was appointed by our government, and who received its pay
+to see to American interests, had been there some months before, but had
+done nothing for them; and to the letters of remonstrance written to him,
+stating their wants, their insufficiency of food and clothing, etc., he
+turned a deaf ear. He did not deign a reply to them; and what more could
+be expected of a man who could be so base as to do what I will here state?
+
+About three years ago I met an old ship-mate. We went to India in the same
+ship. He held a midshipman's warrant in the United States' navy, and went
+out on this voyage for practice in seamanship. He was made prisoner at the
+same time I was. In the shiftings and changes which took place, we were
+separated; and when I saw him, several years after, he stated that after
+parting with me he remained in London, endeavoring in vain to get
+employment on board some ship; that becoming destitute, he went to Mr.
+Beasly, (_Beastly_ it should be,) to get advice and assistance, stating
+who and what he was; and that, in consequence of the unsettled mode of
+life in which he had been living, he had unfortunately lost his warrant;
+and urged him, as an act of humanity, to point out some method whereby he
+might help himself. He turned away from him with indifference, saying he
+could do nothing for him. After a lapse of several days, finding no hope
+of extricating himself from his embarrassed situation, as a last resource
+he went once more to Mr. Beasly, and asked assistance. The reply was: 'Be
+off! and if you trouble me again I will put you on board of an English
+man-of-war!' This gentleman[1] is now Lieutenant Commandant in our navy.
+He told me he had seen Mr. Beasly not long before, in his official
+capacity as consul at Havre, but did not make himself known to him. Is it
+not strange, that one who was so regardless of the duties of his office
+and the feelings of humanity should hold so lucrative and responsible a
+situation as the one which he enjoys to this day? There have been serious
+complaints made against him, within a year or two, by several respectable
+captains of vessels.
+
+    [1] STEPHEN B. WILSON, Esq.
+
+The number of prisoners on my arrival at the depot I understood to amount
+to about three thousand; notwithstanding the deaths had gradually
+increased, the number was kept good by detachments sent in from time to
+time, many of them from English ships of war, who had been impressed into
+the service; and although they had frequently asked for a discharge, they
+could not get it until the European war had ended, and there was but
+little farther use for them. But they obtained their dismissal, and with
+it the pay and prize-money due to them at the time.
+
+Such occasions afforded a kind of jubilee, as the money they brought was
+soon put in circulation through the prisons, from whence it speedily
+evaporated, being spent in provisions, vegetables, and fruits, brought
+there by the country-people for sale, and for which an enormous price was
+paid. Many of the men thus delivered up, had spent several years of the
+prime of life in fighting the battles of a foreign nation, and were then
+dismissed with the most brutal treatment. As an instance: a man by the
+name of SLATER, a tall, robust man, just such an one as they like to get
+hold of, in the service where he had been several years, had made frequent
+but unavailing applications for a discharge. At length when the war broke
+out, he made more urgent solicitations for a release. The answer was,
+'Yes, you shall have it; but we will first give you something to remember
+us by.' And tying him up, they gave him three dozen lashes, and sent him
+to Dartmoor. Such was the reward of his services!
+
+
+
+
+THE SONG OF DEATH.
+
+
+  I.
+
+  Silent and swift as the flight of Time,
+  I've come from a far and shadowy clime;
+  With brow serene and a cloudless eye,
+  Like the star that shines in the midnight sky;
+  I check the sigh, and I dry the tear;
+  Mortals! why turn from my path in fear?
+
+
+  II.
+
+  The fair flower smiled on my tireless way,
+  I paused to kiss it in summer's day,
+  That when the storm in its strength swept by
+  It might not be torn from its covert nigh;
+  I bear its hues on my shining wing,
+  Its fragrance and light around me cling.
+
+
+  III.
+
+  I passed the brow that had learned to wear
+  The crown of sorrow--the silver hair;
+  Weary and faint with the woes of life,
+  The tempest-breath and fever-strife,
+  The old man welcomed the gentle friend
+  Who bade the storm and the conflict end.
+
+
+  IV.
+
+  I looked where the fountains of gladness start,
+  On the love of the pure and trusting heart;
+  On the cheek like summer roses fair,
+  And the changeful light of the waving hair;
+  Earth had no cloud for her joyous eye,
+  But I saw the shade in the future's sky.
+
+
+  V.
+
+  I saw the depths of her spirit wrung,
+  The music fled, and the harp unstrung;
+  The love intense she had treasured there,
+  Like fragrance shed on the desert air:
+  I bore her to deathless love away;
+  Oh! why do ye mourn for the young to-day?
+
+
+  VI.
+
+  I paused by the couch where the poet lay,
+  Mid fancies bright on their sparing way;
+  The tide of song in his heaving breast
+  Flowed strong and free in its deep unrest;
+  His soul was thirsting for things divine--
+  I led him far to the sacred shrine.
+
+
+  VII.
+
+  The sage looked forth on the starry sky,
+  With aspiring thoughts and visions high,
+  He sought a gift and a lore sublime
+  To raise the veil from the shores of Time,
+  To pierce the clouds o'er the soul that lie;
+  I bade him soar with a cherub's eye.
+
+
+  VIII.
+
+  And now, neath my folded wing I bear
+  A spotless soul like the lily fair;
+  The babe on its mother's bosom slept;
+  Ere I bore it far, I paused and wept;
+  'T was an angel strayed from its fairer home:
+  Peace to the mourner!--I come! I come!
+
+_Shelter-Island._                                       MARY GARDINER.
+
+
+
+
+MARY MAY: THE NEWFOUNDLAND INDIAN.
+
+BY A NEW CONTRIBUTOR.
+
+
+The tribe of aborigines to which MARY MAY, the heroine of our little
+sketch, belonged, has been named by the Newfoundlanders, 'Red Indians;'
+for what reason, I could never learn. This tribe, or probably the
+miserable remnant of it, since the English have settled the island has
+been regarded as altogether remarkable and undefinable. They have never,
+in a single instance, been induced to visit the white settler since
+British subjects have resided there. Little is known of their numbers,
+habits, or general spirit, although the most sedulous exertions have been
+made to bring about an amicable understanding and a reciprocal
+intercourse. They have chosen to remain isolated and insolated; keeping
+their history, their wisdom, and their deeds to themselves. They will hold
+no communion with others of their own race. There are the Esquimaux, very
+near their northern boundary; a people disposed to extend the rites of
+hospitality in peace, and a trading tribe; but these have no more
+knowledge of the 'Red Indian' than the white man; and they remain wrapt up
+in a historical mantle as dark as the shades of their own impenetrable
+complexion.
+
+Much, of a marvellous character, has been said about the Red Indians. The
+fishermen of the island, as a mass, believe that these poor creatures are
+semi-human. They will tell you of their having been seen one moment
+cooking their venison, and composedly regaling themselves, and the next,
+upon learning the contiguity of the white man, they would vanish from
+sight, and not a trace could be found of their departure; that they
+descend far under ground in winter, and lead a kind of fairy life; that
+they have power to change themselves into birds and fishes, and to sustain
+life for hours together under water. But all this is of course unnatural
+and absurd. The Indians of Newfoundland are flesh and blood, and partake,
+in common with other races of rational beings, of properties holding them
+within 'delegated limits of power.' And in my opinion, they are as much
+entitled to a character of consistency as the generality of tribes on our
+continent. The secret of their shyness, and their unsocial and vindictive
+disposition, may better be accounted for, from the probable fact that they
+were inhumanly treated by the early discoverers of the island, the
+Portuguese and Spaniards. These monsters without doubt butchered and made
+havock of these poor natives as they did the South American Indians, and
+indeed wherever their lawless adventures led them, in this new world.
+
+Various governors have been appointed to the Newfoundland station since
+Great-Britain has possessed the island, and all have used more than
+ordinary means to reach the Red Indians, and reconcile them to the
+pale-faces, who have taken possession of the bays and harbors of their
+bold and rugged coast. The last, of any magnitude, that was made, was
+during the summer of 1830, and immediately preceding the administration of
+Sir Thomas Cochran. It consisted of a regular exploring expedition,
+numbering about fifty persons, a part of whom were regular soldiers, and a
+part volunteer citizens, which left St. John's, the capital of the island,
+with instructions to explore the interior, and traverse every portion of
+it in quest of the Indians, and to bring some back with them; but to use
+no cruelty, unless absolutely necessary. After traversing the internal
+wilds for some ten days, the expedition discovered smoke in the distance,
+and in a few hours came upon a party of Indians in their wigwams. The red
+men were greatly surprised, and appeared much alarmed. But upon being
+presented with some showy ornaments, accompanied by smiles, and other
+friendly indications, their fears somewhat subsided, and two of them
+became apparently willing to accompany the expedition into St. John's, on
+learning by signs that two of the white men would remain as guarantees of
+their good treatment and return. The white men left were supplied with a
+large quantity of ornaments and trinkets to distribute among other Indians
+whom they might find during the absence of their party, a period which was
+not to be prolonged beyond a month. The good-bye was given, and the
+expedition started on their return home. It had not travelled many hours
+before an uncontrollable disposition seized them to go back again to the
+spot of separation to see if all was well, for some declared that they had
+a presentiment that there had already been foul play. Back they went, and
+when they reached the spot where good wishes had just been interchanged,
+the first spectacle which met their eyes was the mutilated dead bodies of
+their faithful hostages! Without any consultation, or a moment's delay,
+the commander of the expedition ordered the two Indians in their keeping
+to be shot, and their bodies left exposed, as they had found those of
+their comrades. This order was promptly executed.
+
+Soon after Sir Thomas Cochran was appointed governor of Newfoundland, he
+offered a reward of one hundred pounds for the harmless capture of a Red
+Indian, the person to be brought him at the capital. This reward was
+advertised in the summer of 1832; and the next spring a fisherman, at a
+distant, unfrequented part of the island, saw on a pleasant afternoon a
+young female Indian, laving at the edge of the water. She was alone, and
+unconscious of danger, and went through the offices of the bath with
+singular grace and activity. After watching her for some time, he took his
+measures for her capture. He first cut off her retreat, then approached
+her carefully, and at the instant of surprise, obtained possession of her
+person. She made no resistance, but acted as one paralyzed by fear or
+wonder. He brought her to Sir Thomas, and received his reward. It being
+the month of May when she was captured, she was given the name of MARY
+MAY. She was apparently about eighteen years of age; an angelic creature,
+tall, with perfect symetry of proportion, agreeable features, good
+complexion, and as agile and graceful as a fawn. The governor and the
+officers of the garrison, and the elite of St. Johns, vied with each other
+in plans and devices for her gratification. She was taken to parties, to
+the theatre, to military reviews; in short, she was flattered, caressed,
+and made the reigning belle. But the poor Indian showed an almost blank
+indifference to the various schemes devised for her pleasure. She was not
+_at home_. Every face, every habit, every object was new, and appeared
+strange to her. She undoubtedly pined to go back again into the dark wilds
+among her own people. Perhaps her heart, that wonderful controller of
+human destiny, was in the keeping of some extolled brave: at all events,
+it was not in the scenes that were passing before her; and the efforts so
+generously put forth for her amusement and happiness were like the crystal
+droppings upon the hard insensible stone, falling in full profusion, but
+leaving no impress.
+
+Mary was detained about a year, and was then given in charge of the
+fisherman who captured her, with express directions that she should be
+taken to the spot where he found her, and there be left to her own
+guidance. She was richly clad and profusely decorated before she was given
+her liberty, and was furnished with a large quantity of finery for
+distribution among the members of her tribe. It was hoped that this
+treatment, when communicated by one of their own blood, would cause a
+change of feeling among the Red Indians, and that gradually a reciprocity
+of confidence and intercourse would be established. But this experiment
+and this hope proved futile and delusive. In 1836 I left the island of
+Newfoundland, and up to that time not a glimpse of the red race had
+flitted across the vision of civilization since the dark captive was
+permitted again to bound over hill and dale without let or hindrance. Many
+idle reports and tales were circulated about Mary May, after meeting with
+her tribe; but little reliance is placed upon them, as they are for the
+most part contradictory, and strongly savor of the marvellous. But I will
+give the reader one, which is as well authenticated as any, and quite as
+probable.
+
+On the second day after Mary was liberated, she found a portion of her
+people; and when they first saw her, they were much alarmed, judging from
+her fanciful, brilliant habiliments that she was some celestial visiter.
+But hearing their own language addressed to them, the parentage of the
+girl, and the cause of her absence, they became gradually calm, and
+curiosity took the place of fear, and this gave place to admiration, until
+the lost one was fairly constituted by acclamation a goddess, and to her
+surprise and grief, worshiped as such! The daughter's return had been
+communicated to the father, with such exaggerations and extravagances as
+pertain to the grossly superstitious; and he, instead of falling upon his
+child's neck, and receiving her as the lost found, came bowing and doing
+reverence and worship. Mary was bewildered, and almost wished herself back
+again with the pale-faces.
+
+But there was one link in the chain of her destiny yet to be proved; if
+_that_ should be found true, she had not returned in vain. About a year
+previous to her capture, on a sunny afternoon, she had strayed a mile or
+two from her father's camp, invited partly by the romance of her own
+nature, and partly by the novelty of new scenery, opened up by a change of
+camping-ground. While hesitating concerning her return, and gracefully
+leaning against a young sapling, she heard a rustling of leaves near her;
+and quickly directing her eyes to the spot whence the alarm came, she saw
+with terror a full-grown panther steadily and cautiously approaching her.
+She had no weapon of defence, and Indian though she was, had never
+participated in blood and strife. She knew that flight would be vain, for
+what human being could outrun a hungry panther? She raised one
+alarm-whoop, and awaited her fate. At the loud, piercing cry, the fierce
+animal seemed alarmed in his turn, and paused in his progress. But after
+some five minutes, he recovered his courage, and was making ready for the
+fatal spring, when an arrow pierced his heart; and the next moment a
+young, athletic brave sprang from the thicket, and clasped the dark damsel
+to his breast. She remained an instant, passive and bewildered; the next,
+she sprang from the embrace of the stranger, and with Indian dignity
+thanked him for his kind and timely aid. She then turned her face toward
+her father's camp, and with the fleetness of an antelope passed the
+intervening space, and soon found herself safe in her changing habitation.
+
+But notwithstanding the assumed dignity and apparent coldness with which
+she addressed the young stranger, Mary in that moment of rescue was
+awakened to a new and impassioned existence. The image of the stranger was
+before her by day and in her dreams by night. Six or eight months passed,
+when the chiefs of the tribe celebrated a great festival, to which all the
+members were invited. The ceremonies were to last a week; many did not
+arrive until after the first day, and the father of Mary, and his camp,
+were of this number. But toward the evening of the first day of the
+festivities, a tall, graceful young brave stalked into the assembly, and
+with cool solicitude scanned the faces of the female visiters; and not
+appearing satisfied, he folded his arms upon his breast, and leaning
+against a rude post, listlessly observed the sports. But a close observer
+would have seen his eye lit up with unwonted interest when any new arrival
+was announced. No one knew him; his dress was peculiar; still he spoke
+their language, and the old chiefs passed him by for a future examination.
+
+On the second day of the gathering, toward noon, Mary May arrived, and
+with her father, mother and sisters, entered that enclosure of merry
+hearts. She hoped to see at the festival the youth who had so strongly
+impressed her; and the moment she entered the rude structure, her eyes
+eagerly ranged round the assembly until they rested upon the person of her
+rescuer, who as eagerly returned her significant glance. During the
+continuance of the feast and frolic, the lovers had many interviews; and
+before it closed, their faith and vows were exchanged. They were to have
+been married the month after her capture; and now, since her return and
+deification, she had not learned a word about her 'brave,' and had come to
+the determination if he proved false to destroy herself. Day after day
+passed without the presence of the only one who could drive the dark cloud
+from her mind, and it was becoming every day more dense and oppressive,
+until she gave way to utter despondency, and bitterly bewailed her fate.
+One afternoon, about two months after her return, while some of her
+kindred were bowing before her in heathenish worship, hasty steps were
+heard approaching; the next moment the young brave appeared and clasped
+his lost treasure to his heart; and taking advantage of the bewilderment
+of the worshippers, occasioned by his sudden appearance, the happy pair
+escaped to the sea-coast, and passing over a portion of the bay, found a
+secure retreat among the Mickmacs, to which tribe the young brave
+belonged.
+
+And there may they rest. I sometimes, though quite infrequently, meet with
+some one from Newfoundland; and among the first questions I ask is one
+touching the 'Red Indians;' and although I have not heard any thing which
+went to confirm the hope that they may yet be brought to place confidence
+in the white man, yet I still trust that I shall; and when this result is
+brought about, or any other thing of interest shall be learned of these
+strange mortals, I shall take much pleasure in communicating the
+information, for the benefit of the readers of the KNICKERBOCKER.
+
+
+
+
+BIRTH-DAY MEDITATIONS.
+
+
+    I stand upon the wave that marks the round
+    Of Life's dark-heaving and revolving years;
+    Still sweeping onward from Youth's sunny ground,
+    Still changed and chequered with my joys and fears,
+    And colored from the past, where Thought careers,
+    Shadowing the ashes in pale Memory's urn;
+    Where perished buds were laid, with frequent tears,
+    That on the cheek of Disappointment burn,
+  As blessed hours roll on, that never may return.
+
+    What have they seen, those changed and vanish'd years?
+    Uplifted, soaring thoughts, all quelled by fate;
+    Affection, mournful in its gushing tears;
+    And midst the crowd that at the funeral wait,
+    A widowed mother's heart made desolate
+    O'er a war-honor'd Sire's low place of rest;
+    These are the tales that Memory may relate:
+    They have a moral for the aspiring breast,
+  A lesson of Decay on earthliness impress'd.
+
+    Yet Hope still chaunts unto the listening ear
+    The witching music of her treacherous song;
+    Still paints the Future eloquent and clear,
+    And sees the tide of Life roll calm along,
+    Where glittering phantoms rise, a luring throng;
+    And voiceful Fame holds out the laurel bough:
+    Where rapturous applause is loud and long,
+    Frail guerdon for the heart!--which lights the brow
+  With the ephemeral smile of Mind's triumphant glow.
+
+                                                                    C.
+
+
+
+
+THE HOUSEHOLDER.
+
+BY JOHN WATERS.
+
+    'For the kingdom of Heaven is like unto a man that is an
+    householder, which went out early in the morning to hire labourers
+    into his vineyard. And when he had agreed with the labourers for a
+    penny a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And he went out about
+    the third hour, and saw others standing in the market-place, and
+    said unto them; Go ye also into the vineyard, and whatsoever is
+    right I will give you; and they went their way. Again he went out
+    about the sixth and ninth hour, and did likewise. And about the
+    eleventh hour he went out and found others standing idle, and
+    saith unto them, Why stand ye here all the day idle? They say unto
+    him, Because no man hath hired us. He saith unto them. Go ye also
+    into the vineyard; and whatsoever is right that shall ye
+    receive.'--ST. MATTHEW: XX, 1-7.
+
+
+  O thou blest Householder! the starry dawn,
+  The light crepuscular, the roseate morn,
+    Long since had melted into day!
+  Long since the glow of Youth's THIRD hour,
+  And the bird's song, and Fancy's magic power,
+    Long since have, traceless, pass'd away!
+
+  Ent'reth the sun into its zenith height!
+  Ent'reth the mortal into manhood's might!
+    Op'neth again the vineyard Gate
+  And Labourers are call'd! but Honour's dream
+  Entranc'd my soul, and made Religion seem
+    As nought, Glory was man's Estate!
+
+  The NINTH hour found me in the market place;
+  Fierce passion ruled my heart, care mark'd my face;
+    In vain, in vain, Thy blessed call!
+  To glitter, to achieve, to lose or gain,
+  Form'd every hope, or thought, delight, or pain:
+    The world, the world, was still my All!
+
+  The TENTH hour sounded in my startled ear!
+  Thy gracious Spirit touched my heart with fear!
+    The harvest ended with the day;
+  That thought imbued my mind--'not saved? too late?'
+  I left the throng; I sought the Vineyard Gate;
+    'Twas shut-- Death-struck, I turn'd away!
+
+  Low sank the Sun adown the Western Sky!
+  Each cherish'd hope had prov'd its vanity!
+    Now neither Earth, nor Heaven was mine.
+  Rejected, sad, abandon'd, and forlorn;
+  Of God it seem'd not lov'd; of Hell, the scorn!
+    No hope, or human or Divine,
+
+  Brighten'd my dark, cold, doubting, wretched mind;
+  The world, a wilderness; Heaven's self, unkind!
+    'Blackness of darkness' seem'd my way:
+  Slow struck the ELEVENTH! Thy light around me broke!
+  And deep, unto my soul, these words were spoke:
+    'Why stand ye idle all the day?'
+
+  'Enter and work through the waning hour!'--
+  Lord of the Vineyard! grant Thy servant power
+    To labour, love Thee, and obey.
+  Let every thought, plan, word, deed, wish, be Thine!
+  Thine be all honour, glory, praise divine,
+    And let thy pardon close my day!
+
+
+
+
+THE QUOD CORRESPONDENCE.
+
+Harry Harson.
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII.
+
+On the day but one after Rust's death, Mr. Kornicker was very busy in his
+office. His coat was off; his hat was on a chair, and in it was his
+snuff-box, a black silk neckcloth, and a white handkerchief, not a little
+discolored by the presence of snuff and the absence of water. In one
+corner of the room lay a confused heap, consisting of bed, bedding, and
+various odds and ends of wearing apparel; and from these Mr. Kornicker,
+after due reflection and calculation as to the order in which to make his
+choice, selected article after article. First, he spread upon the floor
+his counterpane, then his blanket, then a sheet not a little akin in
+appearance to his handkerchief, and then his bed: upon these he piled his
+apparel, in a confused heap, and proceeded to roll the whole into a large
+ball, which he secured with a piece of rope. 'Now then, the moving's
+begun,' said he, opening the door and rolling the bundle into the entry.
+'The premises are ready for the next tenant.'
+
+Having brushed his knees with the palm of his hands, and then dusted his
+hands by knocking them together, he put on his neckcloth, coat, and hat;
+pocketed his snuff-box and handkerchief, walked into the entry, locked the
+door, put the key over it, as he had always been in the habit of doing;
+seated himself upon his bundle, with his back leaning against the wall;
+and immediately lapsed into a fit of deep abstraction, which he
+occasionally relieved by kicking his heels against the floor, shaking his
+head, in a sudden and emphatic manner, or inhaling his breath rapidly and
+violently, producing a sound blending the harmonious qualities of a snort
+and a whistle.
+
+'So,' said he, after indulging in one of the last mentioned performances
+with so much energy as to arouse him from his abstraction, at the same
+time nodding his head at Rust's office, '_his_ cake being dough, our
+bargain's up; and here am I, Edward Kornicker, Esquire, attorney and
+counsellor at law, a man of profound experience, severe knowledge of the
+world, of great capacity in various ways, though of small means--I think I
+may say of d----d small means--once more in the market; for sale to the
+highest bidder. Such a valuable commodity is not met with every day. If
+any gentleman,' continued he, raising his hand and looking round at an
+imaginary audience, 'is extremely desirous of securing the eminent talents
+of one of the most prominent young men of the day--not exactly new,' added
+he, running his eye over his rusty coat, 'but wonderfully serviceable; no
+cracks, nor flaws, no pieces broken off--here is an opportunity which will
+not occur again. This is only a scratch on the surface,' said he, as he
+thrust his finger into a small hole in his coat-sleeve; 'the article
+itself is warranted to be perfectly sound, and of the best quality. How
+much is bid?--how much for the promising young man aforesaid? How much?
+One thousand dollars? Five hundred? Two fifty?--one?--fifty? It wont do,'
+said he, in a melancholy tone; 'strike him down to me. The gentleman's
+bought himself in; there being no demand for the article in this market,
+he thinks of disposing of himself to some respectable widow lady with a
+small family and a large purse. He may alter his mind, but that's his
+present intention.'
+
+Here Mr. Kornicker concluded his rather extraordinary soliloquy by
+plunging his hands in his pockets, and dropping into a subdued whistle; in
+the course of which his thoughts seemed to have taken altogether a
+different channel; for it was not long before he said, as if in
+continuance of some unuttered train of thought:
+
+'Well, old fellow, I promised you to look after your girl, although you
+didn't seem much struck with the offer. But I'll stick to my promise;
+although, to tell the truth, I don't exactly know how to commence. But
+nothing will be done by sitting on this bundle. So I'll to my work at
+once.'
+
+He rose up hastily, and was descending the stairs when he abruptly turned
+back, went up to his luggage, and after eyeing it for a minute, said:
+
+'It's a hazardous business to leave you here. You can't be distrained on,
+nor levied on, because you're exempt by law. So you are safe from
+landlords and creditors; the law makes you exempt from being stolen too;
+but thieves consider themselves like members of parliament, out of the
+reach of law. There's the rub. You might be stolen; and I very much regret
+to say, that the gentleman who should lay violent hands on you would walk
+off with all my goods, chattels, lands, tenements, and hereditaments; but
+I've no where to take you, and as I expect to sleep in this entry, you
+must take your chance. So, good bye, old acquaintance, in case you and I
+should never meet again.'
+
+Having in a very grave manner shaken one corner of the counterpane, as if
+it were the hand of an old friend, he gave his head a sudden jerk, to
+settle his hat in the right place, and descended the stairs.
+
+The task which Kornicker had imposed upon himself was by no means easy;
+but firm in his purpose of fulfilling his promise, he shut his eyes to all
+difficulties, and commenced his pursuit.
+
+The first place to which he went was the prison, for he hoped that the
+keeper of it might know something about her, or that she might have left
+her address there, in case her father wished to see her when he was
+imprisoned. But he was disappointed. They could tell him nothing, except
+that Rust neither asked for her, nor mentioned her, and had always refused
+to see her. She had never succeeded in gaining admittance to him, except
+on the night of his death, when the jailer, a fellow unfit for his office,
+for he had some human feeling left, unable to resist her tears and
+entreaties, had let her in unannounced, as mentioned in the last chapter.
+She had left the cell abruptly, had hurried off, and had never returned.
+'God help the poor child!' exclaimed the man, as he told the story. 'Such
+hearts as hers were made for heaven, not for this world. I have a daughter
+of her age; and even if she had robbed a church, I couldn't have treated
+her as that man treated his child.'
+
+The man looked at Kornicker, as if to observe the effect of his last
+remark; but probably that gentleman viewed the robbing of a church in a
+less heinous light than the jailer, for he made no comment on it, but
+after a pause said:
+
+'So that's all you know?'
+
+The man nodded.
+
+'Good morning to you, Sir,' said Kornicker; and he walked straight out of
+the building, and had crossed several streets before he had made up his
+mind what to do next. This however was soon settled, and he buttoned his
+coat tightly, pulled his hat firmly on his head, drew on a pair of shabby
+gloves, and performed a number of those little acts which in ancient times
+were known under the head of 'girding up the loins,' preparatory to
+setting out to his next point of destination, which was the girl's former
+home, the place where Rust had committed the murder. It was many miles
+off; and the distance which Rust, under the whip and spur of fierce
+passions, had traversed without trace of fatigue, drew from his clerk many
+a sigh, and many an expression of weariness.
+
+When he got there he found the house deserted. He entered it, for there
+was no one there to hinder it, but the rooms were empty and dismantled.
+The house had been hired by Rust, and no sooner was he in the gripe of the
+law, than creditors innumerable, who like birds of prey were biding their
+time, kept in check by the unbending character of their debtor, came
+flitting in from every quarter; seized and sold the furniture, and left
+the house desolate. A single dark stain upon the library floor, where the
+murdered man had fallen, was all that was left to tell a tale of the past.
+The dust had gathered thickly on the walls, as if preparing to commence a
+slumber of years; and as Kornicker went out, the rats raced through the
+hall, startled at the tread of a stranger.
+
+With a heart as heavy as his limbs, as he thought of the past life of the
+girl who had once tenanted this house, and then fancied what her present
+fate must be, Kornicker set out on his return. 'If it had been me,' said
+he, pausing to take a last look at the lonely house, 'if it had only been
+Edward Kornicker who was thus cast adrift, to kick his way through the
+world with empty pockets, and without a soul to say to him God speed, or
+'I'm sorry for you,' it would have been right and proper, and no one would
+have any cause to grumble or find fault; but this being a girl, with no
+money, and consequently with no friends, no experience, as _I_ have, it's
+a very hard case--a very hard case, indeed.'
+
+Having arrived at this conclusion, Kornicker took off his hat, wiped his
+forehead, snuffed, and set out on his return.
+
+Day after day for several weeks he prosecuted his inquiries without
+success; and just when he was in despair, chance led him to success. In
+the course of his rambles, he encountered a person who had been at Rust's
+trial, and happened to speak about him; for now that the criminal was dead
+and in his grave, when public opinion could be of no service to him, many
+who had hunted him down began to view less harshly the crime which had led
+to his death; and this man was one of the number. He said that, although
+he deserved punishment for his previous evil deeds, yet the best and
+purest act of his life had been that by which he had struck down the
+destroyer of his child.
+
+'Poor thing!' said he, 'she must have led a miserable life since her
+father's death. I have met her several times since then in the street, but
+that was several weeks ago; and then she was very feeble, scarcely able to
+walk: perhaps she's dead now.'
+
+Kornicker waited only long enough to ascertain that she lived in a certain
+out-of-the-way part of the town, which the man designated, and thither he
+directed his steps, and resumed his search; and after several days spent
+in fruitless inquiries, he discovered her.
+
+The house in which he found her was a small ruinous building, sagged and
+jutting forward, as if struggling to sustain itself against time and
+dilapidation. The windows were broken; the doors and shutters unhung,
+except a solitary one of the latter, which creaked as it flapped to and
+fro in the wind; and this was the home of Rust's child.
+
+Kornicker ascended the ricketty stairs and paused at the door of a room,
+which a slipshod woman had pointed out as that of the 'murderer's
+daughter.' He knocked, but there was no reply; he knocked again, but all
+was silent. Then he opened the door and looked in.
+
+It was a small dingy room, unfurnished, with the exception of a bed on the
+floor, and a single chair, on which stood a candle whose flaring light
+served only to add to the gloom of the room by revealing its wretchedness.
+The girl was in bed; her hair lying in tangled masses about the pillow.
+Her cheeks were sunken and colorless, and her eyes deep-set and glowing,
+as if all that was left of life was concentrated in them.
+
+Kornicker hesitated for a moment, and then pushed the door open and walked
+in. The girl looked listlessly up, but did not notice him; for she turned
+her head away with a weary, restless motion, and did not speak. Kornicker
+went to the bed, got on his knees beside it, and took her hand in his. As
+he did so he observed that it was very thin and shrunken, and that the
+large veins stood out like cords. It was hot as fire. 'You're very ill,'
+said he, in a low tone. 'I'm afraid you're very ill.'
+
+'I'm dying of thirst,' said the girl, pointing to an empty pitcher, which
+stood on the floor. 'Give me water; the want of it is driving me mad. No
+one has been near me to-day. I tried to get it myself, but could not
+stand.'
+
+Kornicker waited to hear no more, but seizing the pitcher, darted out to a
+pump, and in a very few minutes came back again with it filled to the
+brim. The girl's eye grew even more lustrous than before, as she saw it,
+and she attempted to rise, but was unable.
+
+'You must excuse ceremony,' said Kornicker, as he placed his arm under her
+back and supported her while he held the pitcher to her lips. 'Nursing
+isn't in my line.'
+
+The girl swallowed the water greedily, and then sank back on the pillow
+exhausted.
+
+'Have you a doctor?' inquired Kornicker, placing the pitcher on the floor.
+
+'No,' answered she feebly; 'I have no money: the last went yesterday. I'm
+deserted by all now.'
+
+'Not quite,' exclaimed Kornicker, slapping his hand earnestly on his knee,
+while he experienced a choking sensation about the throat; 'not while I'm
+left. I'm sorry I a'nt a woman, for your sake; but as I don't happen to
+be, I hope you'll make no objections on that score; I'll look after you as
+if you were my own sister.'
+
+It was the first word of kindness that the girl had heard for a long time,
+and the tears came in her eyes.
+
+'There, there, don't cry,' said Kornicker. 'It bothers me; I don't know
+what to do when women cry. But you haven't a doctor; that will never do.
+Keep up your heart,' said he, rising; 'I'll return presently.' Saying
+this, and without waiting for a reply, he left the room.
+
+Arriving in the street, his first impulse was not only to feel in his
+pockets, but with the utmost care to turn them inside out, and to examine
+them narrowly.
+
+'Not a copper--pockets to let!' said he, restoring them to their former
+condition, after a long and unsuccessful search. 'But this girl must be
+looked after; that's settled. Now then,' said he, in a very meditative
+mood, 'who's able to do it and _will_?'
+
+This seemed a question not easily answered, for he stood for more than a
+minute in profound thought, in endeavoring to solve it; but apparently
+making up his mind, he hurried along the street. The direction which he
+took was toward the upper part of the city, and he was some time in
+reaching his destination, which was no other than Harry Harson's house. He
+crossed the court-yard and knocked at the door, which was opened by
+Harson.
+
+'I want a word with you,' said Kornicker, abruptly.
+
+Harson told him to come in; led the way to his sitting-room, and pointing
+to a chair, told him to be seated.
+
+'I haven't time,' said Kornicker, shaking his head. 'Do you know me?'
+
+'I've seen you, but I can't recollect where.'
+
+'_Here_,' said Kornicker, 'here, in this room. I breakfasted here. I'm
+Michael Rust's clerk.'
+
+'Then you can scarcely expect a cordial reception from _me_,' said Harson,
+coldly.
+
+'I don't care what sort of a reception you give _me_,' replied Kornicker;
+'you may kick me if it will be any comfort to you, provided you only do
+what I ask. Michael Rust is dead, and his daughter is now dying, with
+scarcely clothes to cover her, or a bed to lie in; without a cent to buy
+her food or medicine; without a soul to say a single word of comfort to
+her. I wouldn't have troubled you, old fellow,' continued he, with some
+warmth, at the same time turning out his pockets, 'if I had a cent to give
+her. The last I had I spent in getting a breakfast this morning; and
+although it's the only meal I've eaten to day, damme if I would have
+touched it if I had thought to have found her in such circumstances. But
+since you won't help her, you may let it alone; I'm not so hard run but
+that I can do something for her yet.'
+
+Kornicker had worked himself up into such an excitement, owing to Harson's
+cold reception of him, that he took it for granted his request was to be
+refused; and having thus vented his feelings he turned on his heel to go,
+when the old man laid his hand on his shoulder.
+
+'Nature puts noble hearts in very rough cases,' said Harson, his eyes
+glistening as he spoke. 'You're a good fellow, but rather hasty. I didn't
+say I would not assist the poor girl; on the contrary, you shall see that
+I will. She has no doctor?'
+
+'No.'
+
+'No nurse?'
+
+'No.'
+
+Harson rang the bell. The house-keeper answered it.
+
+'Martha, put on your things,' said Harson; 'I want you to sit up with a
+sick person to-night. Bring a basket, and lights, and cups, and every
+thing that's necessary for one who has nothing. I'll return in five
+minutes; you must be ready by that time. Now then, Sir, come along; you
+shall see what I'll do next.'
+
+He went into the street, and walked rapidly on, turning one or two
+corners, but without going far, and at last knocked at the door of a small
+house.
+
+'A very excellent fellow lives here,' said he to Kornicker; 'he's a
+doctor; and if this girl can be saved he'll do it. Hark! there he comes. I
+hear his step.'
+
+The door was opened by the doctor himself, and a few words sufficed to
+explain matters to him.
+
+'I'll be ready in a minute,' said he, darting in the room and as suddenly
+returning, struggling his way into the arms of a great-coat. 'Now then,'
+exclaimed he, buttoning a single button, and dashing into the street,
+'which way?'
+
+'Where does she live?' asked Harson. 'I'll go back and bring the nurse.'
+
+Kornicker told him, and was hurrying off, when Harson touched his arm, and
+leading him a few steps aside, said in a low voice: 'You seem somewhat
+straitened for money, Mr. Kornicker; I wish you would accept a loan from
+me.' He extended a bank-note to him.
+
+Kornicker buttoned his pockets up very closely, not omitting a single
+button, and then replied coldly: 'I ask charity for others, not for
+myself.'
+
+'Come, come,' said Harson, kindly, 'you mustn't bear malice. I did not act
+well toward you at first; you must forget it; and to show that you do so,
+you must take this loan from me.'
+
+'I don't wish to borrow,' replied Kornicker.
+
+'Well, I'm sorry for it,' said Harson, taking his hand; 'but you're not
+angry?'
+
+'No no, old fellow; it's not an easy matter to keep angry with you; you're
+a trump!'
+
+'Perhaps you'll sup with me when we return?' said the old man, earnestly.
+
+'I'll see how the girl is,' replied Kornicker; 'good bye. We're losing
+time.'
+
+Saying this, he shook hands with Harson, and joining the doctor, they set
+out at a rapid pace for the girl's abode.
+
+They reached it without interruption, other than a short delay on the part
+of the doctor, who being of a belligerent disposition, was desirous of
+stopping to flog a man who had intentionally jostled him off the sidewalk.
+Kornicker, however, by urging upon him the situation of the girl, had
+induced him to postpone his purpose, not a little to the relief of the
+offender, who in insulting him had only intended to insult an inoffensive
+elderly person, who could not resent the affront.
+
+'Can it be possible that any thing human tenants such a den as this?' said
+the doctor, looking at the half-hung door of the girl's abode, and
+listening to the wind as it sighed through broken window-panes and along
+the entry.
+
+'Come on, and you'll see,' replied Kornicker; and seizing him by the arm,
+he led him half stumbling up the stairs, and finally paused at the girl's
+room.
+
+'Look in there, if you want to see comfort,' said he, with an irony that
+seemed almost savage, from the laugh which accompanied it. 'Isn't that a
+sweet death-chamber for one who all her life has had every thing that
+money could buy?'
+
+The doctor glanced in the room, then at the fierce, excited face of his
+companion. 'Come, come,' said he, in a kind tone, taking Kornicker's hand;
+'don't give way to these feelings. She'll be well taken care of now. Harry
+Harson never does a good action by halves. Come in.'
+
+He pushed the door open very gently, and went to the bed. The girl seemed
+sleeping, for she did not move. He took the candle, and held it so that
+the light fell on her face. He then placed his hand gently upon her wrist.
+He kept it there for some moments, then held up the light again, and
+looked at her face; after which he placed it on the floor, rose up, and
+took a long survey of the room.
+
+'It's a wretched place,' said he, speaking in a whisper. 'She must have
+suffered terribly here.'
+
+'This is the way the poor live,' said Kornicker, in a low, bitter tone;
+'this is the way _she_ has lived; but we'll save her from dying so.'
+
+The doctor looked at him, and then turned away and bit his lip:
+
+'What are you going to do for her?' demanded Kornicker, after a pause:
+'have you medicine with you?'
+
+'She requires nothing now,' said the doctor, in a tone scarcely above a
+whisper. 'She's dead!'
+
+Kornicker hastily took the light, and bent over her. He remained thus for
+a long time; and when he rose, his eyes were filled with tears.
+
+'I'm sorry I left her,' said he, in a vain effort to speak in his usual
+tones. 'It was very hard that she should die alone. I acted for the best;
+but d--n it, I'm always wrong!'
+
+He dashed his fist across his face, walked to the window and looked out.
+
+At that moment the door opened, and Harson entered, his face somewhat
+attempered in its joyous expression; and close behind followed the
+house-keeper with a large basket.
+
+'How is she?' asked he, in a subdued tone.
+
+Kornicker made no reply, but looked resolutely out of the window, and
+snuffed profusely. It would not have been manly to show that the large
+tears were coursing down his cheeks. Harson threw an inquiring glance at
+the doctor, who answered by a shake of the head: 'She was dead when we got
+here.'
+
+Harson went to the bed, and put back the long tresses from her face. There
+was much in that face to sadden the old man's heart. Had it been that of
+an old person, of one who had lived out her time, and had been gathered
+in, in due season, he would have thought less of it; but it was sad indeed
+to see one in the first blush of youth, scarcely more than a child,
+stricken down and dying in such a place, and so desolate.
+
+'Was there no one with her--not a soul?' inquired Harson, earnestly, as he
+rose; 'not one human being, to breathe a word of comfort in her ear, or to
+whisper a kind word to cheer her on her long journey?'
+
+The doctor shook his head: 'No one.' Harson's lips quivered, but he
+pressed them tightly together, and turning to Kornicker said:
+
+'Come, my good fellow, you must struggle against your feelings; you must
+not be downcast about it. She's better off than if she had lived--much
+better off.'
+
+'I'm not in the least downcast,' replied Kornicker, in a very resolute
+manner; 'I don't care a straw about it. She was nothing to me; only it's a
+little disagreeable to be living in this world without a soul to care for,
+or a soul that cares for you; and then there was some satisfaction in
+being of use to some one, and in feeling it was your duty to see that no
+one imposed on her, or ill treated her; but no matter; it's all over now.
+I suppose it's all right; and I feel quite cheerful, I assure you. But
+you'll look to her, will you? I can be of no farther use here, and I'd
+rather go.'
+
+'I will,' said Harson.
+
+'You won't let her be buried as a pauper, I hope?'
+
+'No, upon my honor she shall not,' replied Harry.
+
+'Very well--good night.'
+
+Harson followed him down the stairs, and again endeavored to force a sum
+of money upon him; but Kornicker was resolute in his refusal, nor could he
+be induced to go home with Harson that evening. He said that he was not
+hungry.
+
+After several ineffectual efforts, the old man permitted him to depart,
+with the internal resolution of keeping his eye on him, and of giving him
+a helping hand in the world; a resolution which we may as well mention
+that he carried out; so that in a few years Mr. Kornicker became a very
+vivacious gentleman, of independent property, who frequented a small
+ale-house in a retired corner of the city, where he snuffed prodigally,
+and became a perfect oracle, and of much reputed knowledge, from the
+sagacious manner in which he shook his head and winked on all subjects.
+
+
+CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE.
+
+It was a clear, cloudless night without, and the stars twinkled and
+glistened as if the sky were full of bright eyes, looking gladly down upon
+the world, and taking a share in all its gayety and happiness. There was
+no moon, or rather the moon was a reveller, and kept late hours, and might
+be detected sneaking through the sky at about one or two in the morning,
+when she should have been a-bed; and in consequence of her neglect of duty
+the streets were dark, except where here and there the shop windows threw
+out bright streams of light, revealing now a wrinkled brow, now a fat,
+jolly face, and now a pair of bright sparkling eyes, glowing cheeks, and
+lips like a rose-bud, as the throng of people flitted past them; for an
+instant clear, distinct, with face, feature, and form plainly visible, and
+then lost in the darkness. Some paused to look in the windows, some to
+chat; and it might have been observed, that those who lingered longest in
+the light, were young, and such whose faces could bear both the test of
+light and scrutiny. But amid that crowd was a single man, who followed the
+same course as the rest; skulking in the dark corners, darting rapidly
+across the streams of light, with his head bent down and his hat slouched,
+as if he desired to avoid notice. When he reached those places which were
+comparatively less thronged, he paused and leaned against the iron
+railings of the houses, and more than once turned and retraced his steps,
+as if he had changed or mistaken his route. He was, as far as could be
+judged from the sudden and uncertain glimpses afforded of his person, tall
+and gaunt, with sunken eyes, long unshorn beard, and a face disfigured by
+a deep gash. He had the appearance of one broken down by ill health or
+suffering, and his panting breath, as he stopped, showed that he was
+taxing his strength by the pace at which he went. Although he paused
+often, and often turned back, yet in the end he resumed his journey, and
+finally reached the upper part of the city. There he struck into a dark
+cross-street. Once free from the crowd, and where few could observe him,
+his smothered feelings broke out; and muttering to himself, grating his
+teeth, blaspheming, now striking his clenched fists as if aiming a blow,
+he darted on. He did not pause until he came to the house of no less a
+person than Harry Harson. He crossed the door-yard hastily, as if he
+feared his resolution might give way; opened the front door, for Harry had
+no enemies, and his door was unbolted, and entered the outer room. The
+door communicating with the inner room was open, so that he could see
+within; and perhaps never was there a greater contrast than between the
+occupants of those two rooms. In one was a man eaten up by fierce
+passions, desperate and hardened, with all that is noble in the human soul
+burnt out as with a hot iron; in the other sat an old man whose benevolent
+features beamed with good will to all mankind. There was scarcely a
+wrinkle in the broad full brow; the hair was sprinkled with gray; but what
+of that? His eye was bright; his mouth teemed with good nature; and his
+heart--God bless thee, old Harry Harson! what need to speak of thy heart?
+
+The intruder had come in so noiselessly, although his motions were rapid
+and bold, that Harson had not heard him, but sat reading a newspaper, and
+was not a little startled in looking over it to see a man seated within a
+few feet of him, and gazing at him with eyes as wild and bright as those
+of a maniac.
+
+'Who are you, in the name of heaven?' ejaculated he, too surprised even to
+rise, and looking at the stranger as if he still doubted the reality of
+his being in that spot.
+
+The man laughed, savagely: 'Look at me, my master; look at me _well_;
+you've seen me afore. Try and recollect it.'
+
+Harson's embarrassment was not of long duration, and he examined the man
+from head to foot. A vague recollection of having met him somewhere,
+mingled with an indefinable feeling of suspicion and pain, crossed
+Harson's mind as he studied the sunken features which were submitted
+unshrinkingly to his scrutiny. He thought, and pondered, and wondered; and
+still the man remained unmoved. He looked again; the man changed his
+position, and the light fell upon him from another direction. Harson knew
+him at once. He started up: 'Murderer, I know you!'
+
+The man was on his feet at the same moment.
+
+'Down to your seat, Sir!' said he, in a loud, savage tone. 'You're right;
+but you cannot take me alive, nor will mortal man. In that room,' said he,
+in a low tone, and pointing toward the dark stair-case which led to the
+upper part of the house, 'I killed Tim Craig--the only man that ever loved
+me. He's been after me ever since!' He leaned his face toward Harson, and
+looking stealthily over his shoulder said in a whisper: 'He's waiting for
+me at the door. He sat down on the stoop when I came in. I don't know why
+I came here, but _he_ made me do it, and I must see where I killed him. It
+wasn't me. It was Rust; it was Rust. Hark!' He cast a hasty glance in the
+room behind him. 'I'm going, Tim, I'm going,' said he. 'Quick! quick! give
+me the light!'
+
+Seizing the candle, before Harson could prevent him, he rushed out of the
+room, and sprang up the stairs two at a time. Harson followed; but before
+he reached the door of the upper room, with a yell so loud and unearthly
+that it made the old man's heart stand still, the murderer darted out; his
+face livid; his hair bristling, his eyes starting with horror. With a
+single bound he cleared the stairs; crossed the antechamber, the gate
+swung heavily to, and he was gone! And this was the last that was ever
+known of Bill Jones. A few months afterward, the body of a man was found
+floating in one of the docks, and was supposed to be his; but it was so
+mutilated and disfigured, that it was impossible to ascertain the fact
+with any certainty, and it was deposited in the earth with none to claim
+it or care for it, and with no mark to designate that the soil above it
+shrouded a heart which had once throbbed with all the hopes and fears and
+passions that were burning in the bosoms of those who were carelessly
+loitering above its resting place.
+
+
+CHAPTER THIRTY.
+
+Ned Somers had followed Harson's advice in not making his visits to
+Rhoneland's too frequent. But whatever may have passed between him and
+Kate, and even if they did occasionally meet in the street and stop to
+speak, and sometimes to hold conversations which were neither short nor
+uninteresting to themselves, that is a matter between themselves with
+which we have nothing to do. Certain it is, however, that as Ned cooled
+off in his intimacy with Rhoneland, he appeared to rise in the old man's
+estimation; and he grew more cordial when they _did_ meet. It may have
+been that the suspicions implanted by Rust were gradually giving way
+before the frank, honest nature of the young man; or it may have been that
+gratitude for the assistance which Somers had lent, (and which Harson was
+very particular to give its full weight) in disentangling him from the
+toils of Rust; or it may have been the secret influence of Harson, who
+ventured, whenever it could be done, to speak a good word for Ned; or it
+may have been the drooping face of his child, which he was wont more than
+ever to study anxiously, that gradually softened his feelings; but there
+is no doubt that, to Kate's surprise, he one day told her to get him pen,
+ink and paper, and to draw the table in front of him, as he was going to
+write a letter. And it must be confessed, that Kate's color heightened,
+and her heart beat fast when he had finished the letter, directed it to
+Mr. Edward Somers, and then asked if she knew the address of Somers, which
+of course she did; although she hesitated and stammered as if it were a
+profound secret, and the answer the most difficult thing in the world.
+
+But her surprise was scarcely greater than that of Ned himself, when a boy
+came to him with a letter which ran thus:
+
+    'MY DEAR EDWARD: Come to me as soon as you can; I wish to see
+    you on a matter of much importance to both of us.
+
+                               Yours truly,
+                                                 JACOB RHONELAND.'
+
+Ned felt something bouncing about in a very queer manner directly under
+his ribs, as he read this note; but the sensation was not so painful as to
+prevent his obeying it with a speed that was perfectly marvellous; for to
+Rhoneland it seemed that the letter could scarcely have reached its
+destination before Ned was back with it in his hand.
+
+'You got my note,' said he gravely, as Somers entered, his face flushed
+with the rapidity with which he had come.
+
+'I have.'
+
+'Don't go, Kate,' said he to his daughter, who with an inkling of what was
+to follow, was stealing away. 'What I have to say relates to both of you.'
+
+'Some time since,' said he, rising, and standing in front of Ned, 'I
+wronged you, by making charges against you which I am now convinced were
+false. My mind was poisoned by one who has gone to his long account, and
+whose evil deeds may sleep with him. For this,' said he, extending his
+hand, 'I ask your pardon; much more frankly and freely than I did on the
+day when we met at Mr. Harson's.'
+
+Ned took the proffered hand; at the same time pouring out a confusion of
+words, the sum and substance of which was intended to be, that he had
+taken no offence; that he knew Jacob was misled by others; that he was not
+only perfectly willing, but very happy, to make up the matter, and say no
+more about it; which no doubt was very true, for within six feet of him
+stood Kate, with her soft eyes fixed on his face, and her little mouth
+dimpled with smiles, as she observed how swimmingly matters were going on.
+And could he be crusty and dogged? or could he cherish a grudge against
+_her_ father? The thing was impossible. The extended hand was grasped, and
+grasped warmly.
+
+'Another thing I have to speak of,' said Rhoneland, relaxing somewhat at
+the cordial tone of Ned's feelings. 'It is but a short time since I learnt
+the full extent of my obligations to you, for the part you took in
+unmasking the character of Rust, and in obtaining from him a disavowal of
+charges against me, which, false as they were, were hard indeed to bear,
+and were breaking me down. I have not finished,' said he, raising his hand
+to prevent the interruption which Somers was endeavoring to make; 'let me
+complete what I have to say, and you may speak as much as you like,
+afterward. I will not thank you, for thanks are but words, and too often
+mean nothing. Is there any thing that I can _do_, to lessen my
+indebtedness to you?--or is there any way in which I can pay it off
+altogether?'
+
+He stopped, and looked earnestly in Ned's face. The red blood dashed up to
+Somers' very forehead, and he could scarcely breathe for the thumping of
+his heart, as the idea crossed him that now was the time to ask for Kate;
+nor was his agitation at all diminished by casting a glance at her, and
+seeing her cheeks crimson and her eyes downcast, as if she anticipated
+what was going on in his mind. It must be confessed, however, that had
+Rhoneland had no other clue to his wishes than that afforded by his words,
+he would have been very much in the dark; for although Ned attempted to
+speak out boldly, his lips trembled very much, and his voice was not as
+obedient as he could wish; and all that was distinctly audible was the
+girl's name.
+
+'Why lad, what ails thee?' asked Rhoneland, unbending, as he observed the
+embarrassment of his guest. 'You used to be as bold as a lion. Come here
+Kate,' said he to his daughter; 'this young fellow has lost his voice; can
+_you_ tell me what he wants?'
+
+It was now Kate's turn to grow confused, and the color to deepen on her
+cheek; nor did she utter a word.
+
+'Young man,' continued Rhoneland, in a grave tone, 'I did not send for you
+to trifle with your feelings. You love my daughter, and would ask for
+_her_, and you fear to do so lest the request should be refused. She is
+yours. Treat her kindly, and keep even a shadow of sorrow from falling
+upon her brow. If you do not, an old man's curse will rest upon you; and
+even though I be dead, and mouldering in my grave, where my voice cannot
+reach you, that silent curse will follow you.' He turned abruptly away,
+and left the room.
+
+Ned Somers took Kate's hand in his; passed his arm about her waist, and
+drew her to him in so singular a manner, that their lips could not but
+meet; and not only once, but at least some half-a-dozen times.
+
+'So you're mine at last, Kate!' said he, looking into her very eyes,
+whenever they were raised enough for him to do so. 'Did I not tell you to
+cheer up; and that all would be well? Did I not say so; and wasn't I
+right? And now, Kate,' said he, in a less confident tone, 'your father,
+though a most worthy old gentleman, is somewhat whimsical, and might
+change his mind; so when shall _it_ be?'
+
+Kate's reply was so very low, that it reached no ears except those of Ned;
+but whatever it was, it is certain that on that day month they had been
+married a week, and were deep in preparations for a merry-making to be
+held on that very evening at Rhoneland's old house, which had been so
+furbished up and renovated, under the auspices of the young couple, that
+every thing in it seemed to shine again. A party at Jacob Rhoneland's! It
+was a thing unheard of, and produced quite a sensation in the drowsy part
+of the town where he lived. Never had a household been in such a fluster
+as his was. What deep consultations were held to prevent the old man--who
+seemed to have grown quite cheerful and light-hearted, and chirruped about
+the house like some gay old old cricket--from meddling in every thing, and
+to throw dust in his eyes, so as to make him suppose that he was having
+every thing in his own way, when in fact he was having nothing. And then
+what a time it took, and what entreaties, to prevail on him to let the
+great wooden chest, studded with brass nails, which he never took his eye
+from, be removed to an upper-chamber, to make room for their guests. But
+Harry Harson, who was in the thick of all the doings, in and out a dozen
+times in an hour; rubbing his hands and enjoying the bustle, giving
+advice, suggesting this thing and that, and setting every thing wrong;
+managed to get the great chest out of the way, for he dragged it up stairs
+under Rhoneland's very nose, and in the teeth of his remonstrances; and
+depositing it in a little out-of-the-way room, very difficult of access,
+by reason of the angles and turns in the entry, and the size of the chest,
+told Rhoneland that if he wanted it below he might take it there himself;
+but that it was better where it was, and much more safe and out of the
+way; in which opinion Rhoneland finally coincided.
+
+Betimes Kate came down stairs to receive her guests, looking so
+charmingly, and her eyes flashing with such malicious brightness, that on
+meeting her in the entry Ned stopped to kiss her, and tell her that she
+was looking 'gloriously;' a performance and observation by the way, which
+he had already repeated half-a-dozen times in the course of the last hour.
+By twos and threes the guests began to arrive, and went up stairs. There
+was a great clatter above, where they were taking off their things. It
+took a wonderful time to remove the hats and shawls; for although for a
+long time up they went, none came down. There must have been thirty
+assembled above stairs. At last Harry Harson, who was in the room with Ned
+and Kate, dressed in his best black suit, and looking as young and merry
+as any of them, vowed that he would not stand it, and sallied up stairs
+and sent them down in a drove. How bright and cheerful they all were! how
+the congratulations poured in upon Ned and Kate; and hopes for his future
+happiness, and that he might have a large fortune, and a large family to
+help him take care of it.
+
+A loud scraping and jingling announced that the music was there, and put a
+stop to such flummery as conversation. The young folks were going into the
+business of the evening. The little stunted black fiddler with rings in
+his ears, was mounted on one chair; the big, fat fiddler, who fiddled with
+his eyes shut, was seated on another; and the goggle-eyed negro, with a
+self-satisfied face, who simpered on every body, and flourished the
+tambourine, was placed like an umbrella in the corner, to be out of the
+way.
+
+The fat fiddler called out for the gentlemen to choose their partners for
+a quadrille. Then came the long premonitory screeching of the fiddle-bow
+across the cat-gut; then the slight, tremulous jingle of the tambourine,
+as if the goggle-eyed negro were dying to begin; then the bustling and
+hustling, and squeezing of the couples, until they had obtained their
+places in the dance. Then the scientific look of the fat fiddler, as he
+opened his eyes and surveyed the whole, to see that all was right; then
+the slight clearing of his throat, as he threw his head on one side,
+bellowed out 'right and left,' and forthwith plunged into the matter,
+might and main. Away he went, but fast and furious at his heels followed
+the little stunted fiddler; and loud above the din of both, rose the
+rattle of the tambourine. 'Right hand across! forward two; balancez;
+ladies chain; forward four; dos-a-dos; chassez to the right; cross over;
+all round;' here, there, every where, and all over--he was up to it all.
+In vain the dancers fairly flew; the fat fiddler was equal to all
+emergencies; he never lagged; he was sometimes too fast, but never--no,
+not for a single instant--was he behind.
+
+'Whew!' said he, as he gave the final flourish of his bow, and laying it
+aside, wiped his forehead on his coat-sleeve, and called for a tumbler of
+cold water. And thereupon the stunted fiddler and the tambourine made the
+same request; the latter suggesting that his glass might be tempered with
+a 'small spirt of gin,' without hurting his feelings.
+
+In that dance, the lightest step and merriest voice was that of Harson,
+who led out the bride, and footed it there with the best of them; and who
+through the whole evening was bustling around the room, with a kind word
+for every one, and as much at home as if the house, and the company, and
+even the bride, belonged to him. And in fact, one or two of the
+guests--but they were unsophisticated people from the country--were for
+some time under the delusion that Harry was the bridegroom, instead of the
+quiet young fellow who was seen walking about the rooms, talking to the
+disagreeable old women, and getting partners for the ugly young ones,
+without their knowing it; but all in such an unobtrusive manner that he
+seemed quite a nobody when compared with Harson.
+
+But there must be an end even to the merriest meetings; and when they had
+kept it up until the night had got among the small hours, they began to
+drop off. And here, amid the adieus of departing guests, we will take our
+leave of the young couple; for it is far pleasanter to bid farewell to
+those whose friendship we have cherished when hope is strong and bright,
+than when care or disappointment has flung its shadow over their hearts.
+
+
+CHAPTER THE LAST.
+
+A few weeks had elapsed, and a small group were gathered one evening at
+Harson's fireside. It was composed of three persons beside Harson. The
+first was a man of about fifty; he might have been younger; and the heavy
+wrinkles which were scored across his forehead may have been the fruit of
+trouble and care, for they were almost too deep for his years; his mouth
+was firmly compressed, like that of one in the habit of mastering strong
+feelings; and the whole character of his face would have been stern, but
+for his dark, gray eye, which at times brightened up almost to childish
+playfulness. This was Mr. Colton, the father of Harson's protege, Annie.
+The child herself was seated on Harson's knee, sound asleep, with her head
+resting on his breast. The only other person in the group was the wife of
+Mr. Colton. She was quite young, and had once possessed great beauty--the
+beauty of youth and happiness; but that was gone, and in its place was the
+patient look of one who had suffered much, and in silence. She spoke
+seldom, and in a low tone, so soft and musical that one regretted when the
+voice ceased.
+
+'Your letter,' said Mr. Colton, in continuation of a previous
+conversation, 'put an end to all my plans respecting my poor niece. I had
+hoped to assist her; for knowing her father's hostility to her, I feared
+that she might be in want. Her death was a very melancholy one.'
+
+He looked in the fire in deep thought, and for a short time a silence
+ensued which no one seemed inclined to break.
+
+'I never saw her,' said his wife, after some moments; 'I think _you_ did.'
+
+'Yes, once--at the trial,' replied he, uttering the last words with an
+effort, as if the subject were painful. 'She was very beautiful.'
+
+'Did she resemble her father?' inquired Mrs. Colton.
+
+'Perhaps I can settle that question more easily than any one,' said
+Harson, rising up, 'by letting you judge for yourself.'
+
+He went to a small curtain which hung against the wall, and drawing it
+aside, disclosed a portrait of Rust's daughter--the same which Rust had
+brooded over with such mingled emotions on the night previous to the
+murder. The same childlike, innocent smile, played round the small,
+dimpled mouth; the same calm, thoughtful expression of intellect mingled
+with gentleness, shone out of the eyes. All was as it was when father and
+child last looked upon it--the criminal and her accuser. Every line was
+unaltered; but where were they? DUST! They had acted their part on earth;
+their love, their hate, their fears, their remorse, were past. The tide of
+time was hurrying on, bringing life and death, and hopes and fears to
+others, but sweeping from the earth all trace of their footsteps. To them
+forever, aye even until the last trump, time and thought, and care and
+feeling, had no existence!
+
+Mrs. Colton's eyes filled with tears as she gazed upon the picture. 'She
+deserved a happier fate,' said she, in a subdued tone, as if she feared to
+disturb the spell which seemed to hang about it.
+
+'It was ordained for the best,' replied Harson, in a grave tone, as he
+regarded the portrait with a kind of solemn interest. Then, after a
+moment, he added: 'That _was_ her, before want and suffering had laid
+their iron finger upon her. When I saw her, she was dead. She was very
+beautiful even then; but in the short time that had elapsed since her
+father's imprisonment, the work of years had been performed; she seemed
+much older and thinner, and more care-worn.'
+
+'How did you get this?' inquired Mr. Colton, pointing to the picture.
+
+'A friend of mine, the person who aided the girl in her last moments,
+accidentally learned that it was for sale, and begged me to buy it. He was
+too poor to do it, and I was willing to gratify him; and so the picture
+became mine.'
+
+Mr. Colton looked at him for a few moments, as if on the point of making
+some remark, and then walked to the other end of the room and took a seat
+without a word. He was aroused by the child climbing on his knee, and
+putting her arms about his neck.
+
+'God protect you, my child!' said he, laying his hand affectionately on
+her head; 'may you never know the misery which has fallen upon that poor
+girl!'
+
+The words were intended to be inaudible, but they reached the ear of his
+wife, who going up to him, and laying her hand on his arm, said in a low
+voice: 'Come, come, George, do not give way to these feelings. You must
+not be gloomy.'
+
+He looked at her sadly, and then placing his finger on his heart, said:
+'Is not what has been going on here, for years, enough to wither to the
+root every feeling of cheerfulness, so that it should never again put
+forth a blossom?'
+
+'Hush! hush!' interrupted his wife, in a whisper; 'if you _have_ suffered,
+you have gained at last what you have always prayed for; while _he_, the
+one who caused it all, has paid the penalty of his misdeeds. Remember what
+his fate was.' She pointed to the picture: 'Remember too, the fate of his
+only child. George, George! his punishment has been terrible, even in
+_this_ world!'
+
+'You are right, Mary--GOD forgive me! I'll think of it no more. _He_ and I
+were nursed in the same arms, and watched by the same fond mother. From
+the bottom of my heart I forgive him. It would be sacrilege to her memory,
+for me to harbor an unkind feeling toward even a stranger, if she had
+loved him.'
+
+He was silent for a moment, and then addressing Harson, enquired:
+
+'Who is this Mr. Kornicker?'
+
+'A poor fellow, with little to help him through the world but careless
+habits and a good heart.'
+
+'What character does he bear?' inquired the other.
+
+'Such as might be expected from his position,' replied Harson; 'full of
+flaws, but with a vein of gold running through it. Nature has given him
+fine feelings, and fortune, unluckily, has placed him in a situation where
+such feelings are impediments rather than otherwise. But he is a noble
+fellow for all that.'
+
+'Where can he be found?' asked his guest.
+
+Harson probably anticipated the object of this inquiry, for he said with a
+laugh:
+
+'He has been taken care of; he has been placed where the means of
+livelihood and competence are in his grasp, if he will but work for them.
+And what is better yet, he seems disposed to do so, although not much can
+be expected of him at first. I do not think,' added he, 'that it
+contributes to the happiness of a young man, with a long life before him,
+to be altogether idle. I will do all that I can to help him; but he must
+work. It will be more easy for him as he gets used to the traces.'
+
+The stranger acquiesced in this remark, and then added: 'I will take his
+address, nevertheless, for I must see him when I return to the city, which
+will be very shortly; but you seem to have anticipated me in every thing.
+Even the lawyer, Mr. Holmes, declined to be paid for his services. He said
+that _this_ was not strictly a business matter, and that what he had done
+was out of friendship for you, and that I had better pocket the fee and
+drop the subject; at the same time, he said he was going to dinner, and
+asked me to join him, which I did, and a very pleasant time we had of it.'
+
+A good-natured laugh was indulged at the peculiarities of the old lawyer,
+and many stories told of him, and of others who have figured in this
+history. Nor was it until the little clock over the mantel-piece seemed to
+give a very vehement wag of its pendulum as it struck twelve, and Spite,
+who had been asleep in the corner, bounced up, alarmed at the lateness of
+the night, and barked vociferously, that they dreamed of going to bed.
+
+The strangers were Harson's guests that night; and the old man, having
+escorted them to their room, and wished them good night, was himself soon
+in bed and asleep.
+
+Bright and early the next morning, they were astir; for they were to leave
+the city, and Harson was up and ready to see them off. It was a fine
+morning; the trees were just beginning to put forth their spring leaves,
+and the grass in the public squares was looking quite fresh and green, as
+they drove down to the wharf, where the steamer lay, whizzing and puffing,
+and groaning as if in mortal pain, and tugging at its cable like some
+shackled sea-monster struggling to escape to its home in the deep. Early
+as it was, crowds were hurrying to and fro; carts driving up and
+unloading; porters staggering along with trunks and bales on their
+shoulders; carriages dashing up at a gallop, filled with people afraid of
+being too late, and going off more leisurely after the passengers were
+deposited on the wharf. People were bustling hither and thither, elbowing
+their way to one place, merely to find out where to elbow it to the next;
+friends were bidding each other adieu; and in particular, a stout lady
+from the country, in yellow ribbons, from the upper part of the boat was
+sending a confidential message to her family and friends by a gentleman
+who stood in the crowd some sixty yards off.
+
+Through this throng the coach containing our friends drove, and just in
+good time, for as they stepped on board, the last bell rang.
+
+'All aboard!' shouted the captain; 'take in the plank.'
+
+Harson shook hands with his friends. 'God bless thee, my child!' said he,
+pressing Annie in his arms. The next moment he stepped on shore; and the
+boat glided from the dock, and shot out upon the green water.
+
+'Ah, Annie!' said the old man, as he stopped waving his hand, and turned
+away from the river, 'I had hoped that you would have been mine own as
+long as I lived; but it's all right as it is. Your brother,' added he, 'I
+did not miss much, when his parents took him, but _you_ had become a part
+of my home. Well, well!'
+
+No doubt there was a great deal of hidden consolation in these last words;
+for Harson's face soon recovered its usual cheerful character, and he
+steadily trudged toward his home.
+
+A few words respecting the other characters, and our task is ended.
+
+Grosket was induced by Mr. Colton to remove to the country, where an
+intercourse with different and better men than those with whom he had
+hitherto associated tended in a great measure to soften his character, and
+temper his fierce passions--the offspring of persecution and suffering.
+
+Mrs. Blossom, at first alarmed by the fear of the law, grew penitent and
+rigorous in the discharge of her moral obligations to society; but the Law
+being a notorious sleepy-head, and never appearing to have its eyes open,
+she gradually fell into her old habits, reoepened her 'seminary for lambs;'
+and from the great quantity of her disciples which frequent the
+thoroughfares of the city at present, I should judge is getting along
+prosperously. Mr. Snork was extremely desirous of becoming a partner in
+the concern, and made several overtures to that effect, which might have
+been accepted by the lady, had he not objected to being deprived of his
+eye-sight, and seated at a corner to receive pennies from passers-by. It
+was in vain that the lady represented to him that this would be the making
+of their respective fortunes; that blind beggars, particularly if they
+were remarkably disgusting, as was the case with him, had been known to
+retire with handsome fortunes, and that some of them even bought snug
+little farms in the country, and kept a horse and 'shay.' Mr. Snork
+however, was obstinate; his proposals were accordingly rejected, and he
+returned disconsolately to his abode, which was now lonely, his wife
+having paid a visit to the penitentiary, for the benefit of the country
+air.
+
+The widow, Mrs. Chowles, still lives in her quiet, blinking little house,
+as cheerful and contented as ever; as happy as ever to hear Harry's heavy
+step, and to see his honest face in his old corner in her parlor; and
+although he is no longer accompanied by Spite, who has grown old and
+rheumatic, so that he is unable to stir from the chimney-corner, where he
+passes his time in crabbed solitude, except when he turns up his dim eyes
+to his old master, as he hears his voice, and feels his caressing hand on
+his head: all else is as it was in that little household; and that it may
+long continue, is our warmest wish.
+
+
+CONCLUSION.
+
+Mr. Stites' manuscript was written at different times, and in different
+hands. The little man was evidently troubled with a defective memory,
+(although I would not tell him so for the world,) and has permitted many
+strange mistakes and anachronisms to creep into his tale, which inclines
+me to think that the whole matter is not so authentic as he pretends, but
+has been gleaned in various parcels from the regions of romance. But as he
+is not a little tetchy on the score of his veracity, I can only suggest
+that the tale be regarded by his good natured readers rather as a fiction
+than sober truth.
+
+From beginning to end, strong disapprobation has been expressed by Mr.
+Snagg, who says that 'that d--d dog is enough to kill any story, and that
+for his part, he doesn't think much of Stites; never did, and never will;
+and that a single hair of Slaughter's tail was worth Stites' marrow, fat
+and kidneys, all done up together.'
+
+It is useless to argue with him; and I find the most judicious mode of
+disposing of the matter is to let the question remain unanswered; by which
+means he soon comes round, begins to discover a few merits in the
+manuscript, and finally concludes with a warm panegyric upon Mr. STITES
+himself, always however with a reservation as to the dog, whom he swears
+'he never shall be able to stomach.'
+
+In all respects, my quiet old home remains as it was. The same mystery
+hangs about it as formerly. The interest which for a time was excited
+respecting it, when I gave an account of the murder which had left it
+shunned and tenantless, has died away; and with the exception of Mr.
+Snagg, Mr. Stites, and my dog, I have few visiters. Perhaps it is best
+that it should be so; for I have the spectres of no hard feelings nor
+bitter thoughts, nor painful recollections to haunt me, requiring
+excitement and bustle to drive them off; and old age demands time for
+solemn thought and serious meditation, to enable it to wean itself from
+the past, and look cheerfully forward to the future.
+
+But no more of myself. My task is ended; and I now bid you farewell!
+
+                                                            JOHN QUOD.
+
+
+
+
+THE PAST.
+
+
+  I.
+
+  Despair not, though thy course is drear,
+    The past has pleasures for us all;
+  Bright scenes and things to hearts most dear,
+    And those how fondly we recall.
+
+
+  II.
+
+  Such as some lovely girl we knew;
+    Such as some touching song we heard;
+  Such as some evening spent, when flew
+    The hours as swift as passing bird.
+
+
+  III.
+
+  Such as some well-tried friend we had;
+    Such as some acts of kindness done,
+  Yet rising up to make us glad,
+    And so will rise when years are gone.
+
+
+  IV.
+
+  Despair not! still be innocent;
+    Admire the beautiful, the good,
+  And when the cry of woe is sent,
+    Turn to relieve, in pitying mood.
+
+
+  V.
+
+  So shall the present, when 'tis past,
+    Rich with harmonious scenes appear,
+  No gloomy shadows o'er it cast,
+    No spectres there, to make thee fear.
+
+                                                                 E. G.
+
+
+
+
+THE HEARTH OF HOME.
+
+BY MARY E. HEWITT.
+
+
+  The storm around my dwelling sweeps,
+  And while the dry boughs fierce it reaps,
+  My heart within a vigil keeps,
+    The warm and cheering hearth beside;
+  And as I mark the kindling glow
+  Brightly o'er all its radiance throw,
+  Back to the years my memories flow,
+    When Rome sat on her hills in pride;
+  When every stream and grove and tree
+  And fountain had its deity.
+
+  The hearth was then, 'mong low and great,
+  Unto the Lares consecrate:
+  The youth arrived to man's estate
+    There offered up his golden heart;
+  Thither, when overwhelmed with dread,
+  The stranger still for refuge fled,
+  Was kindly cheered, and warmed, and fed,
+    Till he might fearless thence depart:
+  And there the slave, a slave no more,
+  Hung reverent up the chain he wore.
+
+  Full many a change the hearth hath known;
+  The Druid fire, the curfew's tone,
+  The log that bright at yule-tide shone,
+    The merry sports of Hallow-e'en;
+  Yet still where'er a home is found,
+  Gather the warm affections round,
+  And there the notes of mirth resound,
+    The voice of wisdom heard between:
+  And welcomed there with words of grace,
+  The stranger finds a resting place.
+
+  Oh! wheresoe'er our feet may roam,
+  Still sacred is the hearth of home;
+  Whether beneath the princely dome,
+    Or peasant's lowly roof it be,
+  For home the wanderer ever yearns;
+  Backward to where its hearth-fire burns,
+  Like to the wife of old, he turns
+    Ever the eyes of memory.
+  Back where his heart he offered first--
+  Back where his fond young hopes he nursed.
+
+  My humble hearth though all disdain,
+  Here may I cast aside the chain
+  The world hath coldly on me lain;
+    Here to my LARES offer up
+  The warm prayer of a grateful heart;
+  THOU that my household guardian art,
+  That dost to me thine aid impart,
+    And with thy mercy fill'st my cup;
+  Strengthen the hope within my soul,
+  Till I in faith may reach the goal.
+
+
+
+
+PROFESSOR SHAW.
+
+A SKETCH.
+
+
+PLUTARCH SHAW, the naturalist, was lately in the stocks, which has been a
+matter of much talk among the virtuosi, and a good deal of malicious
+laughter on all hands. He cut a devil of a figure, rest assured, propped
+up in a straight jacket, his eye fiery with vengeance; the innocent victim
+of 'circumstances,' and that very common error of putting the saddle on
+the wrong horse. A very little explanation will serve to place this matter
+in the right light, and show by what a fantastic adventure an honest man,
+who was alway given to roam over much territory, was suddenly placed upon
+the limits, and one of the most profound explorers of the curious became
+himself for the time being a curiosity.
+
+Mr. Shaw is so much of an enthusiast, that it is very unpleasant to stand
+near him when he is talking about his bugs, or exhibiting his specimens,
+on account of being spattered all over with the spray of his eloquence. A
+bat shot down in the dusk of the evening is enough to set him half crazy,
+and make the saliva fly all over; it rolls and surges against the bulwarks
+of his jagged teeth in a rabid foam, showers out with his descriptions,
+and makes him only tolerable at arm's length. The beetles and butterflies
+which he has transfixed are innumerable; and he is perpetually syringing
+down the humming-birds, as stationary on vibrating wings, these beautiful
+creatures of the air plunge their beaks deep into the cups of flowers.
+With him pin-money is an item. If he marks any thing curious in the
+natural world, he 'sticks a pin there,' and keeps it for future reference;
+any thing from a lady-bug ready to unfold suddenly the gauze upon its hard
+back, where you would think no wings existed, and fly away, to an
+offensive black beetle that snuffs the candle, or cracks its head against
+the wall, thence upward in the scale to the bird which Liberty loves as
+her sublimest emblem, the proudest of the proud, the bird of our own
+mountains, and the eagle of our own skies.
+
+    'I would not heedlessly set foot upon a worm,'
+
+writes Cowper: not so however with the great Shaw, whose collection of
+worms is most disgusting; exceeded only by his reptiles preserved in
+spirits, with all their sickening exhibition of claws. He has got some
+dragons that fall little short of the Devil himself in general hideousness
+and outrageous tails; some noots brought from Nootka Sound; some green
+monsters from Green Bay; some devilish things from Van Diemon's land; and
+finally, Plutarch is himself hideous, and ought to be put in a collection,
+which by the by, he lately _was_. It was a great era in his life time when
+he shot a wild-cat; that however has nothing to do with the present story,
+and must be told shortly. He threw a stone at him, it seems, to frighten
+him out of the bushes, where by dint of sneaking he discovered something
+with a white and black fur, moving about in a short compass. Breathless
+with excitement, standing on tip-toe, dodging his head among the brambles,
+all ready, and meaning to have a shot at him 'pretty soon,' he was
+whispering to himself, telling himself in a mysterious voice to 'hold
+fast,' not to budge, but wait for the next movement; when this
+_pole-cat_--there is a distinction, it is well known in the species, nor in
+the present instance was it a 'distinction without a difference'--opened
+the batteries with the precision of an artillery officer. 'O my eyes!' was
+the exclamation of Professor Shaw, 'my eyes! my eyes! my eyes!' It was a
+great era in his life time also when he shot a plover; _that_ however has
+little to do with the present story, and must be told shortly. It was on
+the Big Plains, where not a tree nor shrub may be seen for miles around;
+where ambuscades are unknown, and it is very hard to steal a march upon
+the timid birds which are frightened at a very shadow; only they do not
+fear the flocks and herds which pasture upon the plains, but tamely pick
+up the worms beneath their feet. Professor Shaw hit upon an expedient to
+surprise them, which no other person would have thought of, than one of
+his extreme ingenuity: a big box, opened at both ends, into which he
+crawled with fowling-piece in hand. First, however, he procured an ox-hide
+at the stall of a neighboring farm, with all its apparatus of horns, and
+placed it over the box, to give it the appearance at a distance, of a
+_bona fide_ ox. Sure enough, this scheme worked well. On came the plovers,
+hopping about with much unconcern. Shaw chuckled. He flattered himself
+that he should be the death of some of them, if his own life were only
+spared a few moments. While he hammered the flint of his fowling-piece
+with an old jack-knife, he heard a distant rumbling sound, which soon
+waxed terrible, and caused him to thrust out his head. Thunder and Mars!
+what should he do? If he ran, it was all up with him, and he was a dead
+man if he staid where he was. A wild bull of the prairies was cutting up
+shines at no great distance, tearing up the sod with hoofs and horns, and
+threatening to demolish that refuge of lies. Shaw poked out his head, and
+drew it in again, clutching his fowling-piece convulsively, and trembling
+in an agony of fear. Involuntarily he began to say his prayers. 'Our
+Father who art in heaven,' said he, with great fervor. The bull was now
+up, bellowing in a tumultuous passion, galloping round and round in
+circles which were diminishing with every turn, getting his horns ready to
+toss the whole fiction of an ox, box, hide, horns, Plutarch Shaw and all,
+into the air. 'Help! help!' shrieked the philosopher; 'I'll come out; I
+must, I must, I _must!_' And he _did_ come out, by far the most sneaking
+object for miles around on the Big Plains. Some men who were hunting
+plover from a wagon, (which is the right way,) saw his fantastic position
+with mingled laughter and alarm. They drove to his assistance, but the
+horses shyed off at the terrific conduct of the bull, whose onslaught was
+now made upon the box, which he attacked hoof and horn. Mr. Shaw had
+barely strength to reach the shelter of the wagon, into which he was
+taken, much chap-fallen, and resuscitated with brandy-and-water, which
+were luckily at hand.
+
+He was an 'odd fish,' unanimously so styled, by those who knew him, nor
+did his appearance belie him, as he started forth on a geological
+excursion in the month of May last, making poems and tuning pianos by the
+way. He strung up the old harpsicords to the satisfaction of the country
+girls, who thought he 'played on music' with great skill, but his eyes
+were the very wildest. Was Professor Shaw crazy? By no means. As a proof
+of it, he had written several poems as voluminous as the Fredoniad; which
+were unavailing for the present, but which he _did_ hope that his 'country
+would not willingly let die;' added to this, some marches in double quick
+time, some intricate and inwoven harmonies in the transcendental style,
+stanzas set to music, thrown forth when the excitement was upon him, and
+fugitives from justice. Yet all these were nothing, to judge by dark and
+mysterious hints which were given out, of some GREAT WORK at which he was
+now laboring, which the world, (he said it with a presentiment of triumph)
+would be _compelled_ to own. But, as I remarked, his appearance did not
+belie him. Whoever might doubt his metaphysics, his legs were
+unquestionably the very longest, by the assistance of which he had lately
+won a foot-race on the Union course for a hundred dollars, to enable him
+to pursue his studies for the ministry. 'Accoutred as he was,' on one fine
+day in the month of May, he had wandered to a distant part of the country
+with a walking-stick, furnished at the extremity with a small hammer.
+Absorbed in revery, and constructing verses by the way, he arrived at last
+in a romantic valley, where he was soon busily employed in cracking rocks,
+and collecting specimens for his cabinet.
+
+The solitude and pleasant walks were eminently suited to the mind of
+Professor Shaw. The babbling of the rills which came down the hill sides
+and washed the pebbles at his feet, were soothing to the sense, and the
+birds sang sweetly on the trees, which were covered with the blossoms of
+the spring. Only a single dwelling was seen on one of those swelling hills
+which rose above each other, gently and far away, till their last
+undulating lines were limited by the horizon's blue verge. The eye
+wandered with pleasure over the diversified prospect, which included the
+boundaries of three sovereign states, with various rivers, valleys and
+fertile fields. On such a spot, where Nature reigned and developed herself
+in quiet beauty, whether in the voluptuous budding of the spring, or in
+the year's gorgeous decline, Charity had taken the hint and erected an
+asylum for the insane. Happy invocation of Nature, most kind and gentle
+saviour of the sick, who meeting her in her quiet haunts may touch her
+beautiful garments and be whole! In the exhilarating sunshine, in the
+fields garnished so exquisitely by our good God, in the religious woods,
+the circling hills, and the unbounded sky, there is a force of healing,
+when Art has consigned the victim to despair, and the soothing hand
+aggravates the deep-rooted sorrow. Nature gently re-conducts the lost mind
+through its labyrinth of error, speaking sweet consolation in the passing
+breeze, and a volume of beauty in each unclasping flower.
+
+Professor Shaw was doubling up his grotesque figure over the stones,
+gathering garnets. With the intent look of a gold digger, or an alchymist
+prying into his crucible, he was seeking for treasures, cracking up rocks
+into the size of sugar-lumps, and Macadamizing all the place for yards
+round. His shadow stalked with him with colossal strides, according to the
+declension of the sun, and the hammer in his shadowy arm fell on the
+projection of the shadowy rocks. But not farther off than where his
+grotesque head and slanting extremity were measured on the next wall, two
+clowns had gee'd their oxen under a tree, and left their basket of
+potatoes in the furrow, (w--hoy--gee, there--I tell yer to gee!) for the
+sake of giving their undivided attention to the Professor. Geology they
+had never heard of, beyond its application to stone fence; so they
+considered the conduct of a man very queer indeed, who was muttering to
+himself, and filling his pocket full of stones. After a little silence,
+they nodded to each other with a knowing look, and said with one consent,
+'He's as crazy as a coot.' They approached Mr. Shaw, dubiously. 'See his
+eyes!' said they; 'aint they wild? Mister?' said the elder clown.
+
+Shaw made no reply.
+
+'Mister, look a-here; aint you--aint you----?'
+
+'Fel-spar,' said Shaw, cabalistically.
+
+'Oh dear me! that's enough! My dear feller, we've got a duty to perform. I
+guess we know where you come from. Mister, aint you----?'
+
+'Are you addressing me?' said Professor Shaw, mildly, looking up. 'Are you
+addressing your remarks to me, my friend?
+
+'Wonderful cunnin', but it wont do. 'T wont sarve you; I'm a-feard we
+shall have to----'
+
+'Well, Sir, my name is Shaw.'
+
+'What's that you got onto your cane? What you doin' in Queens ceounty? Do
+tell, aint you----got loose from somewhar? Honor bright!'
+
+The professor, lost in amazement, answered only by a broad stare. He then
+bethought him that two lunatics had escaped from yonder mansion. The idea
+satisfied his mind, and surprise gave way at once to a smile, full of
+benevolence and pity. 'My poor friends,' said he, 'do go back; you have
+surely wandered from home; do go up the hill--do go up the hill.' Then
+stamping his foot with an air of authority, he exclaimed, stretching out
+the hammer of his cane, 'Go back to the asylum, in-stan-taneously!'
+
+'I guess the one in the loft will be long enough,' whispered the rustic;
+'but fetch the longest of the two _ropes_, and make haste. Oh, he's
+stark!'
+
+'Ah! how sad!' soliloquized Professor Shaw, as both of his new friends
+retreated, and one hurried out of sight, 'how sad a spectacle! the
+deluded, wandering mind, told by such unerring symptoms; the wild eye,
+strange words, and fantastic pleasantness; reason hurled from her own
+throne, and that steady light exchanged for the fitful flickering over
+decay! They mistake me for one of their melancholy fraternity, poor
+lunatics! whereas my lamp of life, and reason, it appears to me, never
+shone brighter. I shall yet work out something of which my country will be
+proud, and which shall inscribe on an enduring pedestal the name of SHAW.'
+The professor (with his hammer) split a rock. 'If those men come back,
+what had I better do with them? I will contemplate the remarkable
+phenomenon of the mind in ruins. Humanity suggests to me that I ought to
+coax them back with sophistry as far as the garden-gate, and then holler
+for help.' Shaw was the best hearted of men; he would not hurt a human
+being in the world, cruel as he was to bugs, and to centipedes an 'outer
+barbarian.' In the course of ten minutes he was at the base of a large
+rock, scooping out garnets, and thinking casually of that 'great work
+which his country would not willingly let die,' when a rope was let over
+his head and shoulders from above, and the professor was noosed. The
+countrymen jumped down, and began to drag him from the other end,
+squeezing his bowels, and winding him round and round, till coming to
+close quarters, they knocked his hat off, wrested his hammer out of his
+hand, and seizing him by the collar, almost throttled him with the
+knuckles of their immense fists.
+
+SHAW. (Kicking violently.) Murder! murder! murder!
+
+RUSTICS. It won't do no good; we got yer; you may as well come fust as
+last. You're crazy as a coot, and wuss now than when we fus see you. Your
+eyes shows it.
+
+SHAW. I'll go with you, my friends, but don't kill me; oh! I beseech you
+don't kill me!
+
+RUSTICS. No, we wont hurt you; only come along to the house. Come along.
+
+SHAW. Take your knuckles out of my throat, please. _Aside._ Their
+hallucination is extreme; the symptoms of their disease have taken a form
+the most vindictive. Yes, my friends, conduct me safe. We shall soon reach
+the house; then all will be explained.
+
+At this very hour an amusing scene was enacting among the lunatics in the
+large hall of the asylum. One who professed magnetism was trying his skill
+upon a subject, to the great entertainment of his fellows. He was making
+the passes after a singular fashion, upon a docile fellow who sat bolt
+upright in a chair with a face of the most stolid gravity. Standing at a
+distance, he would rush up with long strides, make a wavy flourish with
+his hands over the face of the subject, and retreat as rapidly. Then with
+eager, swelling eyes, aiming with the fore-finger of each hand, he would
+run up and point at some phrenological bump upon the cranium. But the
+patient sat immovable, and was neither to be soothed into slumber, nor
+coaxed into giving any indication that the organs were excited; as is the
+case with the well-drilled _proteges_ of your itinerant lecturers.
+
+Nearly all the inmates were witnesses of this scene, except a few who were
+restricted, and one fair girl who walked in the garden sobbing; and never
+did tears fall out of more beautiful eyes, or shed over such a sweet face
+the interest of sorrow. They gushed profusely on the rosebud in her hand;
+fit emblem of herself; for she had not yet broke into the bloom of
+womanhood. Where tears flow, despair has been already softened to sorrow,
+and smiles may yet shine out of the darkness, as the bow of promise
+bridges only a firmament of cloud. This poor creature, frightened at a
+disturbance at the gate, fled like a fawn to her own apartment. The
+professor was lugged in by the head and ears, with unnecessary roughness.
+Appearances were much against him, as he always had a crazy look. His
+strange dress and equipments, his unshaven beard, his long hair straggling
+over his forehead, his long nose and long legs, his much-abused and
+bunged-up hat, which yawned wide open at the crown and showed the lining,
+wore the external tokens of a mind ill at ease. Added to this, a sickly
+smile shed a yellow glare over his features, of which the effect was
+neither natural nor pleasant; and as the lunatics pressed around, and the
+clowns still clutched him by the throat, even that passed away, and left
+an expression of bewilderment and undisguised dismay. At that moment the
+physician arrived, and glancing at the new subject just brought to the
+establishment, and concluding that his present wildness would need some
+coercion at first, requested him to be brought into the nearest apartment.
+The four formed a singular group. 'Sit down,' said the doctor, nodding
+calmly to the professor, as he prepared to study the case. 'Ha! ha!'
+exclaimed Professor Shaw, dropping into a chair, and striving hard to be
+amused at his predicament, 'ha! ha! ha! My dear Sir, ha! ha! yes, I think
+I may say ha! ha! ha!'--and he laughed so obstreperously as to set the
+whole company in a roar. 'This excursion for scientific purposes; near
+coming to an unpleasant termination; some of your poor fellows, doctor,'
+casting a knowing look at the clowns, 'are strongly possessed they brought
+me here against my will.'
+
+The doctor smiled.
+
+'Let me explain all,' said Mr. Shaw, recovering breath, and speaking with
+preternatural calmness. 'Oblige me first by having those men removed.
+Their presence disturbs me. I pity them from my lowest soul; but they
+have--it is ridiculous--ha! ha! ha! yes, it _is_ ridiculous--but they have
+hurt me very much and disturbed my equanimity. You should confine them
+more strictly, Sir, and not let them go at large to murder strangers by
+the way-side.'
+
+The doctor smiled.
+
+'In search of relaxation, during the intervals of a great work which I
+have in hand, having been made an honorary member of the Tinnecum
+Association, I came here for the prosecution of scientific purposes, and
+for the collection of botanical and mineralogical specimens, which I have
+at present in my breeches pocket.'
+
+RUSTICS. He! he! he! that's enough--see his eyes!
+
+SHAW. (_Smiling._) Doctor, how long have these subjects been in your
+institution? Their insanity has not taken a very mild form. Will you
+oblige me by removing them from the room? Indeed it hurts me to see the
+immortal mind astray.
+
+The doctor smiled.
+
+SHAW. (_Enthusiastically._) As I entered these doors, a most lovely being
+shot across my path. It was but an instant; a quick light, a momentary
+flash, and all was gone! But it was enough! I saw her! I never shall
+forget her. Who is she? That sweet girl has impressed her image on my
+soul!
+
+DOCTOR. My friend, be calm.
+
+SHAW. Oh, my dear Sir! understand me. I _am_ calm, I _am_ calm.
+
+DOCTOR. Perhaps you will be so kind as to inform me where your _friends_
+reside, and when you left them upon this journey.
+
+'My friends!' exclaimed the professor, with a bitter sneer; 'who are my
+friends? Where have I found any whose friendship was other than a name? My
+books, my cabinet, my studies, the great work on which I am now
+laboring--these are my friends; it is only through these that I shall be
+raised to fame. _Sic itur ad astra._'
+
+DOCTOR. I am satisfied that we had better secure----
+
+SHAW. Do you want any assistance, Sir? I will willingly help you to get
+these poor fellows to their rooms.
+
+RUSTICS. He's the cunningest we ever seen.
+
+DOCTOR. Yes, he would deceive any one. Wait a minute my men.
+
+SHAW. If you don't need me I'll bid you good day; I can't stay any longer.
+
+DOCTOR. Oh no, we can't let you go, in common humanity, till we have
+communicated with your friends.
+
+Professor Shaw, in the utmost alarm, attempted to plunge out of the room.
+He was laid violent hands on by all three; his indignation boiled over; he
+struggled most desperately, knocked down the doctor, and attempted to jump
+out of the window, but in the end was overcome, a straight-jacket put on
+him, the stones were taken out of his pocket, he was conducted to a
+separate apartment, and as the shades of night fell around him, he almost
+doubted himself whether he was in his sound mind. His wits seemed to be
+indeed scattered. In vain he tried to collect them, and to realize his
+present position, which was the most false and unfortunate one in which he
+had ever been placed. He charged the Devil with conspiracy. He had already
+sneered at the suggestion of having friends; how should he be the victim
+and laughter of his enemies! He imagined them holding their gaunt sides
+and shaking with a spectre-like malignity. Then he thought of the fair
+girl whom he had seen in the garden shedding tears on roses, and strove to
+weave a chaplet of verse which should be more unfading than flowers. What
+a strange destiny was his! The victim of untoward accidents, persecuted by
+some evil spirit, and leading an aimless, desultory life, which he yet
+feared would lead on to lunacy. What should he do in the present instance?
+Be patient? Yes, he would be calm, forgiving, philosophical as ever.
+Footsteps are approaching; the door of his cell opens; perhaps it is
+already the token of his release. Yes, one of his own townsmen enters.
+Alas! he owed the professor a grudge, and assured the doctor that he was
+cracked, and begged him to hold on to him by all means; he would go and
+inform his friends. 'Ha! ha! ha!' exclaimed Shaw, as the door closed;
+'there it is again; in luck as usual; ha! ha! ha!--ha! ha! ha!'
+
+As it grew dark, and he lay on his pallet, a crowd of thoughts and
+imaginations pursued him through a long sleep, and when he opened his eyes
+to the morning light, he gazed around the strange place with astonishment,
+and tried in vain to persuade himself that his present position was not a
+dream.
+
+In three days he was released from limbo; retracing his steps, with all
+the bugs and specimens which he had collected. And, for those who feel an
+interest in Professor Shaw, it may be agreeable to know, that in his
+wanderings, having discovered in a green lane, on the margin of a
+duck-pond, a district school in want of a pedagogue, he forthwith assumed
+the birch, and may be now seen at almost any hour of the day, in the midst
+of his noisy populace, commanding silence, or dusting them on their least
+honorable parts. 'Tough, are you? I'll see if I can find a tender spot.
+Come, no bawling, or I'll flog you till you stop. Thomas Jones, take your
+book, and stick your nose in the c-o-rner. First division may go out.
+First class in geography----'
+
+                                                              F. W. S.
+
+
+
+
+STANZAS
+
+TO THE SPIRITS OF MY THREE DEPARTED SISTERS.
+
+WRITTEN AT MID-WINTER.
+
+
+  Sweet sisters! ye have passed away,
+    In solemn silence one by one,
+  And left a brother here to stray,
+    In doubt and darkness--and alone!
+  For like three lamps of holy flame,
+    Ye shone upon my weary way,
+  Till a chill breath from heaven came,
+    And quenched for aye the kindly ray.
+
+  Where are ye now?--where are ye now?
+    Those loving hearts and spirits, where!
+  O'er three new graves in grief I bow,
+    But ye are gone--ye are not there!
+  The winds that sigh while wandering by,
+    Curl the bright snow in many a wreath,
+  And sing in mournful melody,
+    O'er the cold dust that sleeps beneath.
+
+  The birds that sang when ye were here,
+    Are singing in another clime;
+  Have left the hedge and forest sere,
+    And gone where all is summer-time.
+  The frail bright flowers that bloom'd around,
+    When ye were blooming bright as they,
+  Lie crushed and withered on the ground,
+    Their fragrance heavenward passed away.
+
+  And ye are gone where genial skies
+    And radiant suns eternal shine,
+  Where peaceful songs forever rise,
+    From saintly tongues and lips divine.
+  And like the flowers whose sweet perfume
+    Has left the soil and risen above,
+  Has risen from your silent tomb
+    The holy fragrance of your love.
+
+  But often when the silver beams
+    Of the pale stars are on my bed,
+  Ye come among my sweetest dreams,
+    And bend in silence o'er my head;
+  And throngs of bright imaginings
+    Float round and o'er me till the dawn;
+  I hear the fluttering of wings!
+    I start--I wake! but ye are gone.
+
+  Oh! I am sad; yet still the thought
+    That when this tired though willing hand
+  Its earthly destiny hath wrought,
+    Ye wait me in that distant land,
+  And that ye long to have me there,
+    More that I pine your absence here,
+  Shall heal the touch of every care
+    And quench the sting of every fear.
+
+  No marble stands with towering shaft
+    To catch the stranger's curious eye;
+  No tablet graved with flattering craft,
+    Tells where your silent ashes lie;
+  But there is one secluded spot
+    In the deep shadows of my soul,
+  Where stranger foot intrudeth not,
+    Nor winter's wanton tempests roll.
+
+  And there in Friendship's burial-ground
+    The willow of remembrance bends,
+  And ye my sisters there have found
+    A home among my choicest friends;
+  And modelled with etherial grace,
+    The form of HOPE with heavenward eyes,
+  Stands calmly on your burial-place,
+    And points her finger to the skies.
+
+                                                        I. G. HOLLAND.
+
+
+
+
+AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF THE PRAIRIE HERMIT.
+
+EDITED BY PETER VON GEIST.
+
+
+It happened on the twenty-seventh day of July, in the year of our Lord one
+thousand eight hundred and forty-two, that I, PETER VON GEIST, found
+myself, in the natural course of events, journeying on horse-back along
+the northern bank of the Ohio river, in the state of Illinois. The space
+between me and the house where I designed to stop, and the time between
+then and sun-down, were somewhat disproportionate; so I pricked gallantly
+forward; as gallantly at least as could be expected from a tired horse,
+and a knight whose recreant thoughts were intensely fixed on dollars and
+cents, supper, and other trifling affairs. By dint however of much
+patience in the steed, and much impatience in the rider, we got over the
+ground, and approached a house that had been in sight for some distance.
+
+It was placed on the summit of a steep, conical hill; there was no smoke
+from its chimney, or voices to be heard, or persons to be seen, or other
+signs of life, in its precincts. The grass grew high and green all around
+the hillock, and there was no road, not even a foot-path, visible on its
+side. Nevertheless, I dismounted, left my horse to improve the opportunity
+of snatching a light repast on the abundant herbage, and forced my way up
+to the top of the knoll.
+
+The building was constructed in the rude fashion of the country; but the
+chinking had fallen out from between the logs; the chimney had partly
+tumbled down; tall weeds sprung up between the stones of the door-steps;
+the door itself was fastened with a huge padlock; the windows were nearly
+all beaten in, and every thing about it gave evidence that it had not been
+inhabited for several years. The summit of the hill was smooth and level.
+A few stumps grew around the edge; and the ground seemed to have been, at
+some former time, a garden.
+
+The situation was exceedingly fine, and the view on all sides very
+beautiful. The eminence commanded on one hand three or four miles of the
+river, and on the other an unlimited tract of prairie. At the particular
+moment when I first visited it, the level sun-light came glancing over the
+face of flood and field, tinging every thing that it touched with its own
+mellow hue, and casting gigantic and ill-defined shadows of the hill, the
+house, and myself, on the plain beyond. At the distance of a mile and a
+half below, stood a couple of one-story houses, the logs of which they
+were built newly hewed, evidently of recent construction. The inhabitants
+of this old building, then, must have stood where I am standing, and gazed
+over the vast extent of country that is spread out before me, without
+meeting a single habitation of man, or any thing having life, except
+perhaps a wolf or a buffalo. And it could not have been desire of wealth
+that induced a family of refinement and taste, such as the little
+decorations and ornaments show that this was, to select this solitude for
+their home; for not more than an acre of land, at the foot of the hill,
+had ever been invaded by the plough.
+
+There were several circumstances like these, that were unusual and
+unaccountable; but not being in a mood just then to be much perplexed
+about it, I descended the knoll, remounted, and hurried on towards the
+more hospitable dwellings below.
+
+Of course, the traveller was received with a welcome, and his bodily wants
+speedily and abundantly cared for. After this most important duty had been
+satisfactorily performed, and quietude of spirit consequent thereon was
+restored to my breast, it chanced that the host and his blue-eyed,
+golden-haired, neatly-dressed, smiling-faced, half-matron, and
+half-girlish young wife, who had lately set up business on their own
+account, and I, seated ourselves without the door, to feel the cool air of
+the evening. It chanced too that the door faced the east; and the old
+house towered up darkly in the distance before us. In answer to my
+inquiries, they were able to give but little information concerning it,
+and that chiefly derived from others.
+
+It appeared that there was on the other side of the river, and a little
+lower down, a small settlement. It had stood there from time immemorial;
+at least, the memory of the tidy little wife did not run to the contrary,
+and she had received her birth and education there, and ought to know. She
+remembered, one of the first things that she could remember, a middle-aged
+gentleman, in a black hat and coat, who used to row over the river from
+the other shore in a small skiff, and walk into her father's store to make
+his purchases, with a grave, but not cold or forbidding face, and used to
+pat her on the head, with such a fatherly smile, and say a few words in
+such a kind tone, as to fill her little breast quite full with delight.
+She remembered more distinctly, a few years later, how this same gentleman
+used to come into the settlement as often as once-a-week, and how glad
+every one appeared to meet him and shake hands with him. The villagers
+seemed to repose unlimited confidence in him. The moment he landed,
+half-a-dozen were ready to ask his advice, or to show him papers, to see
+if all were correctly done. He was the umpire in all differences and
+quarrels, and seldom failed to send away the disputants at peace with each
+other. If there was a wedding, he of course must be present. On May-day,
+when the boys and girls went out into the woods to romp, and afterward to
+sit down to a rustic pic-nic, he was sure to walk into their midst, just
+at the right moment, bearing in his hand a wreath of flowers, so
+beautiful, and so tastefully made, that all the girls cried when at length
+it fell to pieces; and he would place it on the head of the Queen of May
+with such a gentle, sweet little speech, that she would blush up to the
+tips of her ears, and all her subjects would clap their hands and laugh
+out with pleasure.
+
+At Christmas parties his place was never empty; and while he was there,
+mirth never flagged. Perhaps their sports were not so boisterous as they
+would have been if he had not been a spectator; but they were quite as
+pleasant at the time, and a great deal pleasanter when looked back upon
+from the next day. He used to sit in one corner, by the huge, roaring
+fire, and look on, apparently as much interested as they themselves were.
+Nothing went amiss; and there was never wanting some slight, good-natured
+remark or act, to rectify mistakes and set them all going again.
+
+But much as he was loved by the villagers, he was no less respected. They
+did not even know his name. Many would have been glad to, and wearied
+themselves by indirect methods to find it out. But as no one had courage
+to ask him, and as it never happened to fall from him incidentally, they
+remained in the dark about it. He was known and addressed however, by the
+appellation of 'the Lawyer,' as their conversation with him was chiefly
+asking his advice on points of law too knotty for them, which he freely
+gave. He affected no mystery or reserve; yet there was something in his
+bearing, affable and unaristocratic as it was, that caused those very
+men--who, if the governor of the state had come among them, would have
+slapped him on the back, and offered him a glass of liquor--to rise in his
+presence and approach him with respect.
+
+My bright-eyed informant, with her musical voice, recollected, a good
+while ago, when she was about ten years old, and he had become gray and
+wrinkled--though he never needed a staff, nor was his eye dim--that he
+rowed over one spring afternoon, and requested the men to leave their work
+for a few minutes, and hear something that he had to say to them.
+Accordingly, they collected 'considerable of a little crowd' around her
+father's store. The lawyer stood in the door, while she made her way
+through the throng and sat down on the door-step, at his feet. She did not
+remember all that he said; only that he talked to them for about half an
+hour, in a calm, conversational tone, on the importance of building
+school-houses and educating their children. They seemed to be much pleased
+with what he said; and after another half hour's free discussion, the
+whole village turned out, and went to work felling trees and hewing
+timber; and in the course of a few days a substantial school-house was
+erected. From that time forth, she and all her brothers and sisters, and
+all her play-mates, at stated hours and seasons, were rigidly imprisoned
+therein, and diligently instructed in the rudiments of science.
+
+About this time, she and a brother who was about two years older embarked
+on a voyage of discovery. They pulled up the river, at least he did, for
+she only held the rudder, two miles, till they come in sight of the
+residence of the Great Unknown. There stood the old house, as she had
+often gazed at it with wondering eyes from the opposite bank, just as
+grim, and dark, and gloomy. It had been their intention to make an open
+descent upon it, and boldly beat up the premises. But now, the building
+was so silent, and deserted, and frowning, their hearts failed them, and
+they crept cautiously along up the southern shore till they were concealed
+by a bend in the river; then striking across, they floated down, by
+accident as it were, close under the northern bank. When they arrived
+under the hill, on the top of which the object of their curiosity was
+placed, they looked anxiously up at it; but every thing was as silent as
+the grave. Seeing it thus unguarded, they took courage, ran the skiff
+ashore, and prepared to land. But when on the point of stepping on the
+beach, the door of the house opened, the man himself walked out therefrom
+and advanced to the brow of the eminence. There he stood; black all over,
+except his face, which at that instant appeared to wear a peculiarly
+terrible and ferocious aspect. The children were frightened, and hastily
+shoved off their little cockle-boat. But the man came down to the edge of
+the water, and called them by name to return. _She_ thought how far off
+home was, and no one near to afford assistance in case of need; and when
+she thought, she would have been glad to have retreated as fast as
+possible; but her brother was commander of the expedition, and without
+more words he pushed back to land.
+
+They went ashore, neither of them altogether devoid of fear and trembling,
+and sat down on the grassy bank, by the side of their venerable friend. He
+soon talked away their timidity; and seemed so mild and affectionate, that
+in a few minutes they were chatting and laughing as merrily as ever
+children could. He showed them his garden, his trees, and flowers, and
+fruits. He gave them a little basket, which they filled with strawberries,
+some of which he squeezed between his fingers and rubbed on her cheeks, to
+see he said, if they could be made any redder. In fine, he amused them so
+much with his stories, and was so pleasant and kind, that they fell more
+than ever in love with him; and after promising a dozen times to come and
+see him every week while it was summer, they returned gaily home.
+
+But the old man died at last. The children went up one sunshiny morning to
+pay him a visit, and found the house all still, and the door locked. They
+knocked and knocked, but no one answered. They peeped in at the window and
+saw him stretched at length on the bed, fully dressed, with a handkerchief
+over his face, and his gray hair lying dishevelled on the pillow. They
+called to him; but still there was no answer. Then they became alarmed,
+and hurried home. Some men came up, broke open the door, and found him
+dead. Without sickness, or premonition of any kind, he had calmly passed
+away.
+
+They dug his grave by the side of the cottage, and laid him in it, with
+his feet to the east and his head to the west; and left him to rest there,
+unknown and unnamed in death, as he had been in life. The whole village,
+men, and women, and children, mourned for him many days. But when the days
+of lamentation were ended, and they saw his face no more, though their
+grief abated, his memory did not, and has not yet passed from their
+hearts.
+
+I observed the voice of my hostess to falter more than once, while telling
+this simple and dream-like story of her childhood. I could see by the
+night-lights too that her bright eyes sometimes became brighter and
+sometimes dimmer; both of which circumstances made it only the more
+pleasant for me to sit and listen to her words.
+
+'There were no letters,' she said, found in his possession from which
+they could learn his name. There were no writings of any kind, except a
+bundle of old papers, which she had looked into, but they seemed to be
+only disconnected thoughts and memoranda of events and feelings, and threw
+no light on his history. At my request she produced a lamp and spread out
+the papers on the table. I turned over the worn and time-stained
+manuscripts; but the leaves were loose, unnumbered, and put together at
+random, and it was some time before I could find a place to begin at.
+
+At length, however, I managed to bring a few sheets in juxtaposition,
+such, that with a little stretch of the imagination I could discern a
+slight connection between them. And thus, by dim lamp-light, alone, with
+the silence of night around, and the old house lifting up its dark and
+shadowy form in the distance, I read some of the old man's papers.
+
+Those which I read I took the liberty of putting into my portmanteau,
+arguing that though they might be of no use to me, they certainly would be
+of none to their present possessors. Some of these papers having appeared
+in the KNICKERBOCKER, and met with 'acceptance bounteous,' I am induced to
+transcribe for the edification of the reader, a portion of the
+autobiography of the writer. It is contained in the last chapter, or
+sheet, and is written in a different and more aged hand than the rest; and
+gives the 'moving why' of the old man, in isolating himself from his kind,
+in one of the great green deserts of the West, 'for which the speech of
+England hath no name.'
+
+
+A DREAM OF YOUTH.
+
+Sixty years old! Many sorrows, many storms encountered, both within and
+without, and much journeying along the road of life, have left their
+traces on my features and on my head; but I am thankful that they have not
+touched my heart. I live alone, but not solitary; for I hold daily
+communion with the absent and beloved; communion also, sad but sweet, with
+the departed. The forms of those once hated too, are ready to rise up at
+my bidding; but they are never summoned. For I wish all within me to be
+gentleness and repose; and it ill becomes me on this my last failing
+foothold on the verge of the grave, to allow thoughts of hatred to stir up
+the turbid waters of bitterness which have been slumbering so many years
+in my heart.
+
+So I stand up here calmly at the end of my journey, and look back on the
+path which I have trodden. And what a path! Far back it runs, growing
+fainter and narrower, till I lose sight of it, an indistinct line, in the
+distance. I shall not say how many steep hills it crosses, where it might
+better have kept in the plains; how many deviations it makes from a
+straight course, apparently for the sole purpose of wandering through
+difficult places; or how often it runs along over burning sandy deserts,
+parallel with, and but a few steps from, the verge of a cool and pleasant
+meadow. I shall say nothing of this; for of the million of paths that
+intersect this vast plain of Life, there is probably not one which, when
+the traveller looks back upon it, does not like mine seem marked out by
+the veriest caprice of chance. Each one gropes its way along, like the
+crooked track of a blind man; and when it would appear the easier and
+almost the only way to keep on up the gentle eminence, whereon might have
+been found renown and happiness, by that same constant fatality, it
+suddenly turns short off to one side, plunges down into the rocky ravine,
+and pants on, for many a weary mile. That man shapes not his own ends, is
+a truth which I felt long since, and which each day's experience brings
+home to me with the freshness of a new discovery. It is a truth which
+rises up and mocks us, when we sit down to calculate or plan for the
+future; and it almost staggers our confidence in the connection between
+human means and the desired result.
+
+But what a path! Proceeding out of the darkness of morning, it struggles
+through a brief day, sometimes in sunshine, and sometimes in shade, and
+ends in the darkness of night. I glance along it, and the care-worn faces
+of the companions of my manhood rise up, on either side, and farther back,
+the speaking countenances of the friends of my youth. It is but a narrow
+space, the land of Youth, and soon passed; but pleasant, and full of
+images of beauty. The sun is not so bright and hot upon it as on some
+other parts of the path; but we do not expect happiness in the garish
+light of mid-day and reality. The mellowness of a summer evening sunset
+lays on it, and thereby it becomes a faery land, a land of bliss and
+dreams. How throng up, as I gaze, the forms of those early and best-loved
+friends! How distinct and life-like, even at this distance, are their
+characters and features! They are all there; not one name has been erased,
+and not one picture dimmed, on the tablet of memory. The same warm smile
+of kindling pleasure greets me; the same hands are thrown out, as if to
+touch my own; and those bright eyes grow brighter as they are turned
+toward me.
+
+It is with such companions that I spend the last days of my earthly
+pilgrimage; and thus, as I said before, though alone I am not solitary. Is
+not such companionship sweet? When they visit me, I throw off old age, as
+a garment. Smiling thoughts come gently over me, and life and happiness,
+as of wont, course like the mad blood of fever through my veins. I feel
+over again those old feelings, repass through those same scenes, and my
+heart beats faster or grows pale in the same places and in the same manner
+as it once did. The old fields and houses and roads come up too, clothed
+at my command, in the snows of winter, or in the beauty of summer. Old
+scenes, but still fresh and young; and I am sometimes tempted to believe
+that the intervening years have been the illusion of a dream, and that I
+am awakening in their midst.
+
+All this, some will say, is the weakness of age. It seems to me to be
+rather its strength. The future in life is nothing; and what is the bare
+present to any one? The past, then, alone is left me. And if by living in
+it I can keep my affections alive, instead of letting their fires,
+according to the course of nature, or rather of custom, die down into cold
+ashes, I do not call myself weak if I do as much as possible forget the
+present.
+
+I had, when I was young, many dreams; such as I dare say all have. They
+seem such to me now, only not at all shadowy. On the contrary, they become
+more and more like reality as my distance from them increases, while their
+hues are as well marked and distinct as ever. Many and bright; but the
+brightest of all, the dream of my youth, is that which flashes across my
+recollection, when there comes into my heart the thought of my cousin
+Jane!
+
+My cousin JANE! Her form comes up before me, light and elastic and joyous,
+as though summoned for the first time, and as though it had not been my
+daily visitor for many a long year. Time writes no wrinkle on thy snowy
+brow, my first love! That glad smile knows no weariness, and I know no
+weariness in gazing on it. Those deep eyes, full of feeling; those soft
+words that thrill; I see and hear and feel them now, as I saw and heard
+and felt them first. Wilt thou never be tired of looking up to me, with
+that sweet, timid, confiding, tearful glance? Will the rising flush of thy
+cheek and thy subdued smile, be always fresh as now, and as in that hour
+when first we met? Thou hast been my companion, my unmurmuring,
+ever-present, unchanging companion, through many a dark time and stormy
+scene; and thou and the heart in which thou livest will die together.
+
+We met, my cousin Jane and I, when she was just putting on womanhood; had
+begun to find out the depths of her own heart, to doubt whether those
+depths ever could be filled, and to feel that unless they were, life would
+be but a blank. Not that there were not many willing enough to love her
+and be loved; the beauty of her form and character drew around her a crowd
+of admirers. But among them all, her nice perception saw that there was
+not one, of whom the exterior did not form by far the largest part of the
+man. Her admirers were good, honorable men; she respected and esteemed
+them; but still, gentle and timid and humble as she was, without knowing
+why, she felt that there was an impassable gulf between her and them.
+Their thoughts were not like her thoughts. Her social disposition led her
+much into their way, and though she tried to avoid it, she was told more
+than once, that the happiness or misery of her devoted lover depended on
+her smiles. It was a painful situation for one of her retiring and
+benevolent disposition, to be sure; and it is doubtful to which of the
+two, the lover or the mistress, every such rejection caused the keenest
+pang.
+
+But this was not the end of it. Malice soon prefixed to her name the
+epithet scornful; and among her school-girl friends there were some who
+always passed by on the other side. Poor girl! She wept bitter tears over
+these sneers and slights, for she had not studied the world enough to
+learn and despise its despicable things. Even then, dear girl! too, she
+tried to love all the world, that is, all her native village. And she
+succeeded, at least far enough to forgive them all, and thus to feel her
+own mind at peace and resigned. But there was a tinge of sadness left on
+her Grecian face after all; for to the young, when the out-stretched hand
+of kindly feeling is coldly put aside, the grief is as great as though the
+repulse were deserved.
+
+And I--I hardly know what I was, when I first saw my cousin. I was without
+father or mother; the world seemed wide and rather cheerless; and there
+was a settled impression on my mind, that it was my business to glide
+along through life, calmly and noiselessly; attach my affections to no
+external object; exist without being the cause of joy, and die without
+being the cause of tears, to any human being. I came and took up my abode
+in the pleasant village where my uncle resided, and set down to gain some
+knowledge of that noble science, civil law. I took up the study, not
+because I had any intention of engaging in the active duties of the
+profession, but for the name's sake, and because I loved it for itself. My
+uncle, he was a kind, good man, showed himself a father to me, took me
+into his family, tried to encourage and rouse me; and for his kindness,
+though it failed of its end, he had at the time, and has always had, my
+sincere though unexpressed thanks.
+
+I had hardly become acquainted with my relatives, uncle, aunt, and their
+three children, when I entered my office, shut the door, and immersed
+myself in books and my own thoughts. That those thoughts were not of the
+most joyous nature, I need hardly say. Still, looking back to that period,
+from where I stand now, I cannot say they were misanthropic. If I did not
+love all my species, it was because I saw nothing lovely in any body; but
+I did not hate them. I felt that I was an insignificant, an unnoticeable
+drop in the great world; that it was my misfortune to be so constituted as
+to be incapable of uniting closely and mingling with other drops; and
+that, without offending my neighbors, it would be my duty and pleasure to
+keep myself distinct from the rest, and hidden in some obscure corner. In
+one word, the prevailing feeling was, that nobody cared for me, and I
+cared for nobody.
+
+And yet, strange as it may appear, I was far from being unhappy.
+Sometimes, it is true, my in-turned thoughts became weary, and pined for
+human fellowship; and I grew sick at heart, as I contemplated the future,
+a vast, dry, waste, desolate desert of parched sand, over which I must
+toil and thirst, without one single being to speak a word of kindness, or
+give me a drop of water. But these were fits, fits of wildness, I called
+them, and seldom lasted long. And when they came over me, one attempt to
+link my sympathies with others was always sufficient to throw me back into
+a state of mind harder and colder than before. For it was so fated, that
+all my overtures, and they were not many, were met with open repulse or
+wary suspicion. It is true, suspicion is a necessary ingredient in human
+character; but I did not think of this then, and so it had the same effect
+as though I had found, indeed I thought I _had_ found, that coldness and
+insensibility were the prominent characteristics of the race.
+
+And yet, as I said before, I was not unhappy. If there was no happiness,
+there was at least no unhappiness, in sitting down for hours, and brooding
+over my own idiosyncrasies. It made me proud, to see and despise the
+weakness of others; and it gave me stern joy, to walk about and feel that
+there was a kind of armed neutrality between them and me. By degrees there
+arose, also, a gloomy pleasure in dwelling on, and picturing in deeper
+colors, the failings and baseness of my neighbors. Humble and weak as I
+knew myself to be, I exulted in my strength, because there were some still
+more weak and humble. Far back as my recollection ran, there had never
+been any thing in the world that seemed to me worthy of very much exertion
+or toil to obtain; but now I first learned to despise others for
+possessing feeble energies, as well as for directing them to the
+attainment of little objects. I am afraid, if left to myself, I should
+have hardened into a genuine hater; but I was not left to myself.
+
+I have mentioned my uncle's kindness; his whole family were not less kind.
+My cousin Jane, especially, saw that I was silent, and fancied that I was
+unhappy, and tried, by a thousand little devices and arts, to lull me into
+forgetfulness of myself, and entice me into a more sociable frame of mind.
+I will not say that I was insensible to her enticements; I rather liked
+her, she was so gentle and mild and considerate. There was an air of truth
+and simplicity about her; she would sit herself down so cheerfully to
+amuse me, and there was such a sparkle in her blue eyes when, as she said,
+I condescended to interest myself in her little affairs, that I began, at
+length, to love to be with her. But proud as I was, when I viewed mankind
+at a distance, I no sooner came in contact with any one, who was not
+immeasurably beneath me, than I felt myself sinking immeasurably beneath
+him; and so, like a fool as I was, I fancied that all my cousin's kindness
+was the result of her sense of duty to her relation; or, what was worse,
+of pity for his moroseness. This faint suspicion became, in a little
+while, a strong certainty; and I confined myself more closely to my books,
+and looked into my cousin's guileless, enthusiastic face, with coldness.
+
+I had known her now a year, and yet I hardly knew her at all; for I had
+seen her scarcely ever, except when it was impossible to avoid it, and
+those occasions were not frequent or long enough to enable me to learn
+perfectly her mind and character. From every such meeting, I went away
+resolved to see her no more in future; which resolution was sure to be
+overruled by second and more bitter thoughts. How I lived during that
+year, I scarcely know; or how it was that I grew uneasy away from her, and
+frequently surprised myself courting her society. But as time rolled on,
+so it was. There was a fascination about her, the magic of which was, that
+it charmed to sleep my vigilant suspicion. I did not perceive any change
+in myself, when night after night I was with her, talking to her about
+poetry, beauty, love, and the thousand themes that interest the
+unrestrained youthful heart; or that I was different from what I used to
+be, when I listened to her, with a gush of pleasure, as she spoke at once
+with lips and eyes, and in speaking, disclosed the unimagined riches of
+her mind and heart. So gradual was the change, that I was wholly unaware
+of it.
+
+But of one thing I was aware; the face of nature and of man underwent a
+strange and sudden change in appearance. I looked into the face of my
+neighbor, and lo, he was my brother! The fire of benevolence and sympathy
+warmed every vein, and a new life animated every nerve within me. I felt
+no longer that I was alone, but that indissoluble cords bound me to the
+whole human family, to every being in whose nostrils was the breath of
+life; and that for his good, as well as for my own, it was my business to
+labor. New motives of action, (or rather motives of action, for there were
+none before,) were set before me; and I felt light of heart and wing;
+eager to bound forward and lend the strength of my arm to the cause of the
+race. The face of nature too was altered. Every part that came within the
+range of my vision, her seasons, her vestments in winter and summer, her
+sunshine and clouds, each one was a melody, and all together made harmony.
+Still, I was scarcely sensible that I was different from what I was a year
+ago; for at each period I felt that I was in my natural and proper state
+of mind. So slight are the influences necessary to turn the young heart
+into the permanent channel of selfishness, hatred and unhappiness, or into
+that of love and peace!
+
+It was not long before I found out that I loved my cousin Jane. How I
+first discovered it I do not remember; but I do remember a firm and
+abiding resolution, even then, that I would not love her. I sat down by
+her side, I listened to her music, with that distinct impression. I would
+not for the world have had any body suspect my feelings, because I was
+ashamed of the weakness. I had persuaded myself, and could not convince
+myself to the contrary, that there was no hope of her returning my
+passion. And yet, with the words on my lips, 'This is folly--I will not!'
+I yielded myself to the delicious current, forgot all the world and
+myself, and in the intoxication of the hour, saw visions and dreamed
+dreams.
+
+But there came a shock; one which awoke me from a trance like that of the
+Opium-eater. It was when I saw that my cousin's smiles and attentions were
+not all devoted to me. There was another, a young man of promise and
+expectations, a year or two my senior, and far beyond me in the graces and
+polish of society, who had lately become intimate in my uncle's family.
+Engaged in the same pursuits, and being much with him, I had rather liked
+him; in fact I liked him very much. He had seen, admired, and in less than
+six months, _loved_ my Cousin Jane: this I knew, for jealousy is
+keen-eyed. You will not wonder then that I hated him; not on his own
+account--alter his feelings toward her, and I should have felt toward him
+as before; but on account of his love--hated him with a deadly hatred.
+
+It would be useless to tell how often I have sat down and watched them,
+when my cousin's sensitive countenance would brighten at his bright
+thoughts, or burst forth into a merry laugh at his brilliant wit and ready
+repartee; or how often the iron has entered into my soul when I have seen
+her hang on his arm, and listen in breathless attention to his lightest
+word, and testify in a thousand ways her pleasure at his coming, and in
+his presence. And _he_, he looked on me with the most immovable
+indifference. He did not seem to consider me worthy of his attention; even
+as a rival. He went straight forward, calmly and quietly, as though I had
+not existed; and if he ever glanced at my pretensions, it was perhaps with
+a smile of confident success. I knew he loved her; I fancied that she
+loved him, and I hated them both for it.
+
+I went into my office one day--if it were not part of the dream I would
+not tell it--in a state of partial insanity. I knew, saw, heard, felt
+nothing but one unalterable purpose of revenge. There happened to be a
+small pistol lying in the back room; I took it up, and carefully loaded
+it; loaded it without the tremor of a single muscle, for my heart was
+lead. I put it into my pocket, and walked the streets up and down, an hour
+or two, or it may have been four hours. I did not take count of the time.
+The heavens reeled above me, and the earth reeled beneath. At last he
+came. A thrill, the first that day, a thrill of triumph ran through my
+whole frame. When we met I stopped and took hold of the pistol in my
+pocket, but had not power to draw my hand out again; the strings of
+volition seemed broken. He stopped also; looked at me in some surprise;
+made a remark that I 'did not appear to be well,' and passed on. I looked
+after him, sick at heart with revenge deferred, and cursed my own
+pusillanimity.
+
+Well, well, we will let that pass. I had yielded my soul to the Author of
+Hatred for a time; but we will let it pass, and strive to forget it; I
+have been trying to ever since; I hope I shall succeed better in future.
+It is pleasant if we can think that the results of our evil passions do
+not extend beyond ourselves; and to me, it is pleasant to think that I did
+not break my gentle cousin's heart, by letting her know that she had
+nearly driven me mad.
+
+It was a month after this. How the intervening time had been spent, in
+what thoughts, and hopes, and fears, it would not be profitable to tell,
+or to recollect. I was sitting one evening by my cousin's side; it was
+growing late, and we were alone. I had been heated, as though with wine,
+and had probably talked incoherently. The conversation turned on that
+never-failing theme, love. She delighted to hear me speak on that subject;
+she said I spoke eloquently. If eloquence consists in earnestness, no
+doubt I did. It began in sportiveness, but before long became deeply
+serious and interesting.
+
+'And you do not believe, my grave cousin,' said she, in her own
+half-jesting, wholly earnest way, 'that a woman can love as deeply and
+long as the man who loves her?'
+
+'Bah!' said I, bitterly, 'women sometimes, like men, are revengeful,
+proud, or ambitious, but it is on a smaller scale. Every thing about them,
+every feeling and impulse is on a small scale. Very good objects they make
+for men to love; because, when one _will_ be such a fool, it doesn't much
+matter where he places his affection.'
+
+The poor girl looked grieved, but responded with a semblance of gaiety
+nevertheless: 'Ah, you think so now, but you will be just such a fool
+yourself, one of these days; and then you will find out that it is
+necessary for a woman to have a soul; and more than that--that she has
+one.'
+
+'Much obliged for your flattering opinion,' said I. 'But see here, my
+bonny Jane, did it never enter into your innocent little heart to think
+how _you_ would love?'
+
+'Oh yes,' she answered quickly; 'but that is all guess-work. I don't know,
+because I haven't yet found a man to my taste.'
+
+Of course I knew that I could not be to her taste; but a plain man does
+not like to be told that he is ugly, though he may be perfectly conscious
+of the fact. And so this avowal, which was made with the most unthinking
+honesty and simplicity, while it added weight to my despair, by a very
+usual consequence, made me desperate.
+
+'You are certain,' I asked, after a pause, 'that you do not know what love
+is by experience?'
+
+'Perfectly,' she answered, half laughing.
+
+'And that you mean to know, some time?'
+
+'To be sure,' said she, 'when the right man and the right time come.'
+
+'I do not know,' said I, beginning slowly and calmly; but before the
+sentence was half completed, my voice and thoughts had escaped from under
+my control; 'I do not know who the right man for you may be, but I--_I_
+love you--love you--love you!'
+
+She looked at me for a few seconds, with a countenance filled with
+astonishment, not unmingled with alarm. She would have thought it a jest;
+but my manner probably convinced her that I was far from jesting. She
+tried to smile, but it was a painful effort, and she found it much easier
+to conceal her face in her hands and weep.
+
+My recollection of the subsequent events of that evening is extremely dim.
+There was a confused crowd of flying thoughts; many tears and much
+friendship on one side, and much love on the other. She had received me as
+I knew she would, and though by the confession there was a great weight
+removed from my breast, the anguish was not less intense. One thing,
+however, among the hurried occurrences of that hour, I did not lose sight
+of, and that was pride. She did not suspect at the time how much of my
+heart, not to say existence, was bound up in her, or how greatly both were
+affected by her answer.
+
+The closing scene of the interview is the one which I most love to
+remember. We were standing at the door, her hand in mine, a mournful smile
+on her lips, and a tear in her eye. That bright, gentle face was pale with
+sorrow, and pity, and pain, and above all with fear. I gazed on it a
+moment, but in that moment the picture was graven indelibly on my memory.
+The 'good night' was spoken; and that is the last time I ever saw my
+cousin Jane.
+
+The next morning I sat down at an inn by the way-side, several miles
+distant from home, and sent back a few lines of farewell:
+
+'My only beloved! You must pardon me for this note. The adieu of last
+evening was only for the night; I wish to say good bye this morning, for a
+longer time. Your answer to my suit was not unexpected; in fact, I knew it
+would be as it was; and it was only a fatality, a blind impulse, that
+drove me to make that disclosure. I fear that it has given you pain, and I
+beg you to forgive my thoughtlessness. And in turn, you may rest assured
+that I forgive you for all the anguish and sickness of spirit that I have
+suffered on your account. There is nothing to be forgiven; I know that you
+would not cause unhappiness to any one, and it has been my own folly and
+madness. But I promise not to lay it up in my heart against you. I promise
+that in future years, wherever my lot may be cast, you shall be in my
+memory, only my pure, sweet, innocent cousin. And so, blessings be on your
+head! I go forth a vagabond and a wanderer on the face of the earth. It is
+probable that you will never hear from me again; and I pray you to forget
+our last interview, that your thoughts may be only peace. I would live in
+your remembrance as I was when we first met. And do not think, because
+long years of silence and wide lands and many mountains divide us, that
+your cousin has forgotten you. Your image lives in his heart and can never
+die!'
+
+
+
+
+STANZAS WRITTEN IN INDISPOSITION.
+
+BY THE LATE WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK.
+
+
+  I.
+
+  The Spring is fair, when early flowers
+    Unfold them to the golden sun;
+  When, singing to the gladsome hours,
+    Blue streams through vernal meadows run;
+  When from the woods and from the sky
+    The birds their joyous anthems pour;
+  And Ocean, filled with melody,
+    Sends his glad billows to the shore.
+
+
+  II.
+
+  The Spring is sweet: its balmy breath
+    Is rapture to the wearied breast,
+  When vines with roses fondly wreathe,
+    Fann'd by soft breezes from the West;
+  When, opening by the cottage eave,
+    The earliest buds invite the bee;
+  And brooks their icy bondage leave,
+    To dance in music toward the sea.
+
+
+  III.
+
+  The Spring is gay: but to my heart
+    The glorious hues she used to wear,
+  As sunset clouds in gloom depart,
+    Have vanish'd in the empty air:
+  They move not now my spirit's wing,
+    As in the stainless days of yore:
+  The happy dreams they used to bring
+    Have pass'd--and they will come no more.
+
+
+  IV.
+
+  Not that those dreams have lost their sway--
+    Not that my heart hath lost its chords;
+  Still with affection tuned, they play,
+    And leap at friendship's kindly words;
+  But 'tis that to my languid eye
+    A _newness_ from life's scene hath flown,
+  Which once upon the open sky,
+    And o'er the teeming earth, was thrown.
+
+
+  V.
+
+  Yes! there IS _something_, which no more
+    In Nature's gorgeous round I find;
+  Something that charm'd in days of yore,
+    And filled with Sabbath peace my mind;
+  Which added lustre to the flower,
+    And verdure to the field and tree,
+  And wings to every sunny hour,
+    While roseate health remained with me!
+
+
+  VI.
+
+  But Time's stern wave hath roll'd along,
+    And now on Manhood's waste I stand,
+  And mourn young Fancy's faded throng
+    Of radiant hopes and visions bland;
+  Yet, kindling o'er my onward way,
+    The light of love divine I see,
+  And hear a voice which seems to say:
+    'Pilgrim! in Heaven there's rest for thee!'
+
+_May, 1832._
+
+
+
+
+DISGUISED DERIVATIVE WORDS IN ENGLISH.
+
+BY A NEW CONTRIBUTOR.
+
+
+Derivative words in English, as in other languages, are usually formed on
+regular principles. Some few of them, however, especially those derived
+from foreign languages, and coming into extensive use, are so corrupted or
+disguised, as greatly to obscure the derivation.
+
+The following are examples:
+
+1. CHURCH and KIRK: (Anglo-Sax. _circ_ and _cyric_, Germ. _kirche_, old
+Germ. _chirihha_, Gr. [Greek: kyriakon], as if _the Lord's house_, derived
+from [Greek: kyrios], _the Lord_, and this from [Greek: kyros], _power_,
+_authority_;) a Christian temple.
+
+2. CLOWN: (Lat. _colonus_, from the root _col_, to cultivate;) a rustic.
+Compare Germ. _Koeln_ from Lat. _Colonia Agrippina_; also Lat. _patronus_
+from _pater_.
+
+3. DROPSY: (Fr. _hydropisie_, Portug. and Span. _hidropesia_, Ital.
+_idropisia_, Lat. _hydrops_ and _hydropisis_, Gr. [Greek: hydrops],
+derived from [Greek: hydor], water;) a corruption of _hydropsy_, an
+unnatural collection of water in the body.
+
+4. PARCHMENT: (Fr. _parchemin_, Portug. _pergaminho_, Span. _pergamino_,
+Ital. _pergamena_; also Germ. and Dutch _pergament_; Lat. _pergamena_,
+scil. _charta_, Gr. [Greek: Pergamene], scil. [Greek: Charte], from
+_Pergamus_, a city of Asia Minor;) skin prepared for writing.
+
+5. PERIWIG and PERUKE: (Fr. _perruque_, Span. _peluca_, Ital. _parruca_;
+also Germ. _perrucke_, Dutch _parruik_, Swed. _peruk_, Dan. _perryk_, Tr.
+_percabhaic_, Gael. _pior-bhuic_; from Lat. _pilus_;) an artificial cap of
+hair.
+
+6. PRIEST: (Anglo-Sax. _priost_, _preost_, Germ. and Dutch _priester_,
+Iceland _prestr_, Dan. and Swed. _praest_; also old Fr. _prestre_, Fr.
+_pretre_, Portug. _presbytero_, Span. _presbitero_, Ital. _prete_, Latin
+_presbyter_, Gr. [Greek: presbyteros], comparative of [Greek: presbys],
+old;) one who officiates in sacred offices.
+
+7. RICKETS: (Fr. _rachitis_, Portug. _rachitis_, Span. _raquitis_, Lat.
+_rachitis_, Gr. [Greek: rhachitis], from [Greek: rhachis], the back or
+spine;) a disease of children.
+
+8. SCIATICA: (Fr. _sciatique_, Portug. _sciatica_, _ciatica_, Span.
+_ciatica_, Ital. _sciatica_, Lat. _ischias_, gen. _adis_, Gr. [Greek:
+ischias], gen. [Greek: ados], from [Greek: ischion], the hip;) the
+hip-gout.
+
+9. SUCH: (Anglo-Sax. _swilc_, Meso-Goth. _swaleiks_, old Germ. _solih_,
+Germ. _solcher_; composed of _swa_ or _so_, the ancient modal case of the
+demonstrative pronoun, and the ancient form of Eng. _like_;) a
+demonstrative adjective of quality, denoting _of that kind_ or _sort_.
+
+10. WHICH: (Anglo-Sax. _hulic_, _hwylc_, _hwilc_, _hwelc_, Meso-Goth.
+_hweleiks_, or _hwileiks_, old Germ. _huelih_, Germ. _welcher_; composed
+of _hwe_ or _hwin_, the ancient modal case of the interrogative pronoun,
+and the ancient form of Eng. _like_;) properly an interrogative adjective
+of quality, denoting _of what kind_ or _sort_? but in use an interrogative
+partitive adjective.
+
+11. WIG: a mutilation of the word _periwig_; see _periwig_ above.
+
+
+
+
+NEW-ENGLAND'S SABBATH BELLS.
+
+
+  I.
+
+  How sweet upon the morning air, the chime of Sabbath-bells,
+  As full and clear upon the ear the solemn music swells!
+  From many a church in sunny vale, and on the green hill side,
+  The jewels of New-England's crown, her glory and her pride.
+
+
+  II.
+
+  The busy hum of busy men, this morn forgets to wake,
+  In quiet deep the hushed winds sleep, as fearful they shall break
+  The holy silence which o'erspreads all nature like a spell,
+  With which in music sweet accords the Sabbath-morning bell.
+
+
+  III.
+
+  Those Sabbath-bells--they call us not to piles of mossy stone,
+  Temples of yore, with age now hoar, and ivy overgrown,
+  Through whose stained windows softly creeps a dim religious light,
+  Seeming as it were sanctified unto the Christian's sight.
+
+
+  IV.
+
+  Nor do they tell of royal courts, in which to worship GOD,
+  Where nobles gay in bright array bend to their monarch's nod;
+  No costly paintings please the eye, nor trappings rich and rare,
+  To draw the humble Christian's heart from sacred praise and prayer.
+
+
+  V.
+
+  But to the simple, hallowed fane, we turn our willing feet,
+  Where, rank unknown, the free alone in humble worship meet;
+  While 'Holiness unto the LORD' upon the walls we read,
+  No other ornament than this, no other record need.
+
+_New-Haven, May 10, 1844._                                          A.
+
+
+
+
+A PASSAGE
+
+FROM A LEGEND OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN.
+
+BY THE AUTHOR OF THE SKETCH-BOOK.
+
+
+While the veteran Taric was making his wide circuit through the land, an
+expedition under Magued the renegado proceeded against the city of
+Cordova. The inhabitants of that ancient place had beheld the great army
+of Don Roderick spreading like an inundation over the plain of the
+Guadalquiver, and had felt confident that it must sweep the infidel
+invaders from the land. What then was their dismay, when scattered
+fugitives, wild with horror and affright, brought them tidings of the
+entire overthrow of that mighty host, and the disappearance of the king?
+In the midst of their consternation, the Gothic noble, Pelistes, arrived
+at their gates, haggard with fatigue of body and anguish of mind, and
+leading a remnant of his devoted cavaliers, who had survived the dreadful
+battle of the Guadalete. The people of Cordova knew the valiant and
+steadfast spirit of Pelistes, and rallied round him as a last hope.
+'Roderick is fallen,' cried they, 'and we have neither king nor captain:
+be unto us as a sovereign; take command of our city, and protect us in
+this hour of peril!'
+
+The heart of Pelistes was free from ambition, and was too much broken by
+grief to be flattered by the offer of command; but he felt above
+everything for the woes of his country, and was ready to assume any
+desperate service in her cause. 'Your city,' said he, 'is surrounded by
+walls and towers, and may yet check the progress of the foe. Promise to
+stand by me to the last, and I will undertake your defence.' The
+inhabitants all promised implicit obedience and devoted zeal: for what
+will not the inhabitants of a wealthy city promise and profess in a moment
+of alarm? The instant, however, that they heard of the approach of the
+Moslem troops, the wealthier citizens packed up their effects and fled to
+the mountains, or to the distant city of Toledo. Even the monks collected
+the riches of their convents and churches, and fled. Pelistes, though he
+saw himself thus deserted by those who had the greatest interest in the
+safety of the city, yet determined not to abandon its defence. He had
+still his faithful though scanty band of cavaliers, and a number of
+fugitives of the army; in all amounting to about four hundred men. He
+stationed guards, therefore, at the gates and in the towers, and made
+every preparation for a desperate resistance.
+
+In the mean time, the army of Moslems and apostate Christians advanced,
+under the command of the Greek renegado, Magued, and guided by the traitor
+Julian. While they were yet at some distance from the city, their scouts
+brought to them a shepherd, whom they had surprised on the banks of the
+Guadalquiver. The trembling hind was an inhabitant of Cordova, and
+revealed to them the state of the place, and the weakness of its garrison.
+
+'And the walls and gates,' said Magued, 'are they strong and well
+guarded?'
+
+'The walls are high, and of wondrous strength,' replied the shepherd; 'and
+soldiers hold watch at the gates by day and night. But there is one place
+where the city may be secretly entered. In a part of the wall, not far
+from the bridge, the battlements are broken, and there is a breach at some
+height from the ground. Hard by stands a fig tree, by the aid of which the
+wall may easily be scaled.'
+
+Having received this information, Magued halted with his army, and sent
+forward several renegado Christians, partizans of Count Julian, who
+entered Cordova as if flying before the enemy. On a dark and tempestuous
+night, the Moslems approached to the end of the bridge which crosses the
+Guadalquiver, and remained in ambush. Magued took a small party of chosen
+men, and, guided by the shepherd, forded the stream, and groped silently
+along the wall to the place where stood the fig tree. The traitors, who
+had fraudulently entered the city, were ready on the wall to render
+assistance. Magued ordered his followers to make use of the long folds of
+their turbans instead of cords, and succeeded without difficulty in
+clambering into the breach.
+
+Drawing their scimitars, they now hastened to the gate which opened toward
+the bridge; the guards, suspecting no assault from within, were taken by
+surprise, and easily overpowered; the gate was thrown open, and the army
+that had remained in ambush rushed over the bridge, and entered without
+opposition.
+
+The alarm had by this time spread throughout the city; but already a
+torrent of armed men was pouring through the streets. Pelistes sallied
+forth with his cavaliers and such of the soldiery as he could collect, and
+endeavored to repel the foe; but every effort was in vain. The Christians
+were slowly driven from street to street, and square to square, disputing
+every inch of ground; until, finding another body of the enemy approaching
+to attack them in the rear, they took refuge in a convent, and succeeded
+in throwing to and barring the ponderous doors. The Moors attempted to
+force the gates, but were assailed with such showers of missiles from the
+windows and battlements that they were obliged to retire. Pelistes
+examined the convent, and found it admirably calculated for defence. It
+was of great extent, with spacious courts and cloisters. The gates were
+massive, and secured with bolts and bars; the walls were of great
+thickness; the windows high and grated; there was a great tank or cistern
+of water, and the friars, who had fled from the city, had left behind a
+good supply of provisions. Here, then, Pelistes proposed to make a stand,
+and to endeavor to hold out until succor should arrive from some other
+city. His proposition was received with shouts by his loyal cavaliers; not
+one of whom but was ready to lay down his life in the service of his
+commander.
+
+For three long and anxious months did the good knight Pelistes and his
+cavaliers defend their sacred asylum against the repeated assaults of the
+infidels. The standard of the true faith was constantly displayed from the
+loftiest tower, and a fire blazed there throughout the night, as signals
+of distress to the surrounding country. The watchman from his turret kept
+a wary look out over the land, hoping in every cloud of dust to descry the
+glittering helms of Christian warriors. The country, however, was forlorn
+and abandoned, or if perchance a human being was perceived, it was some
+Arab horseman, careering the plain of the Guadalquiver as fearlessly as if
+it were his native desert.
+
+By degrees the provisions of the convent were consumed, and the cavaliers
+had to slay their horses, one by one, for food. They suffered the wasting
+miseries of famine without a murmur, and always met their commander with a
+smile. Pelistes, however, read their sufferings in their wan and emaciated
+countenances, and felt more for them than for himself. He was grieved at
+heart that such loyalty and valor should only lead to slavery or death,
+and resolved to make one desperate attempt for their deliverance.
+Assembling them one day in the court of the convent, he disclosed to them
+his purpose.
+
+'Comrades and brothers in arms,' said he, 'it is needless to conceal
+danger from brave men. Our case is desperate: our countrymen either know
+not or heed not our situation, or have not the means to help us. There is
+but one chance of escape; it is full of peril, and, as your leader, I
+claim the right to brave it. To-morrow at break of day I will sally forth
+and make for the city gates at the moment of their being opened; no one
+will suspect a solitary horseman; I shall be taken for one of those
+recreant Christians who have basely mingled with the enemy. If I succeed
+in getting out of the city, I will hasten to Toledo for assistance. In all
+events I shall be back in less than twenty days. Keep a vigilant look out
+toward the nearest mountain. If you behold five lights blazing upon its
+summit, be assured I am at hand with succor, and prepare yourselves to
+sally forth upon the city as I attack the gates. Should I fail in
+obtaining aid, I will return to die with you.'
+
+When he had finished, his warriors would fain have severally undertaken
+the enterprise, and they remonstrated against his exposing himself to such
+peril; but he was not to be shaken from his purpose. On the following
+morning, ere the break of day, his horse was led forth, caparisoned, into
+the court of the convent, and Pelistes appeared in complete armor.
+Assembling his cavaliers in tie chapel, he prayed with them for some time
+before the altar of the holy Virgin. Then rising, and standing in the
+midst of them, 'God knows, my companions,' said he, 'whether we have any
+longer a country; if not, better were we in our graves. Loyal and true
+have ye been to me, and loyal have ye been to my son, even to the hour of
+his death; and grieved am I that I have no other means of proving my love
+for you, than by adventuring my worthless life for your deliverance. All I
+ask of you before I go, is a solemn promise to defend yourselves to the
+last like brave men and Christian cavaliers, and never to renounce your
+faith, or throw yourselves on the mercy of the renegado Magued, or the
+traitor Julian.' They all pledged their words, and took a solemn oath to
+the same effect before the altar.
+
+Pelistes then embraced them one by one, and gave them his benediction, and
+as he did so his heart yearned over them, for he felt towards them, not
+merely as a companion in arms and as a commander, but as a father; and he
+took leave of them as if he had been going to his death. The warriors, on
+their part, crowded round him in silence, kissing his hands and the hem of
+his surcoat, and many of the sternest shed tears.
+
+The gray of the dawning had just streaked the east, when Pelistes took
+lance in hand, hung his shield about his neck, and, mounting his steed,
+issued quietly forth from a postern of the convent. He paced slowly
+through the vacant streets, and the tramp of his steed echoed afar in that
+silent hour; but no one suspected a warrior, moving thus singly and
+tranquilly in an armed city, to be an enemy. He arrived at the gate just
+at the hour of opening; a foraging party was entering with cattle and with
+beasts of burthen, and he passed unheeded through the throng. As soon as
+he was out of sight of the soldiers who guarded the gate, he quickened his
+pace, and at length, galloping at full speed, succeeded in gaining the
+mountains. Here he paused, and alighted at a solitary farm-house to
+breathe his panting steed; but had scarce put foot to ground when he heard
+the distant sound of pursuit, and beheld a horseman spurring up the
+mountain.
+
+Throwing himself again upon his steed, he abandoned the road and galloped
+across the rugged heights. The deep dry channel of a torrent checked his
+career, and his horse, stumbling upon the margin, rolled with his rider to
+the bottom. Pelistes was sorely bruised by the fall, and his whole visage
+was bathed in blood. His horse, too, was maimed and unable to stand, so
+that there was no hope of escape. The enemy drew near, and proved to be no
+other than Magued, the renegado general, who had perceived him as he
+issued forth from the city, and had followed singly in pursuit. 'Well met,
+senor alcayde!' exclaimed he, 'and overtaken in good time. Surrender
+yourself my prisoner.'
+
+Pelistes made no other reply than by drawing his sword, bracing his
+shield, and preparing for defence. Magued, though an apostate, and a
+fierce warrior, possessed some sparks of knightly magnanimity. Seeing his
+adversary dismounted, he disdained to take him at a disadvantage, but
+alighting, tied his horse to a tree.
+
+The conflict that ensued was desperate and doubtful, for seldom had two
+warriors met so well matched or of equal prowess. Their shields were
+hacked to pieces, the ground was strewed with fragments of their armor,
+and stained with their blood. They paused repeatedly to take breath;
+regarding each other with wonder and admiration. Pelistes, however, had
+been previously injured by his fall, and fought to great disadvantage. The
+renegado perceived it, and sought not to slay him, but to take him alive.
+Shifting his ground continually, he wearied his antagonist, who was
+growing weaker and weaker from the loss of blood. At length Pelistes
+seemed to summon up all his remaining strength to make a signal blow; it
+was skilfully parried and he fell prostrate upon the ground. The renegado
+ran up, and, putting his foot upon his sword, and the point of his
+scimitar to his throat, called upon him to ask his life; but Pelistes lay
+without sense, and as one dead. Magued then unlaced the helmet of his
+vanquished enemy and seated himself on a rock beside him, to recover
+breath. In this situation the warriors were found by certain Moorish
+cavaliers, who marvelled much at the traces of that stern and bloody
+combat.
+
+Finding there was yet life in the Christian knight, they laid him upon one
+of their horses, and, aiding Magued to remount his steed, proceeded slowly
+to the city. As the convoy passed by the convent, the cavaliers looked
+forth and beheld their commander borne along bleeding and a captive.
+Furious at the sight, they sallied forth to the rescue, but were repulsed
+by a superior force, and driven back to the great portal of the church.
+The enemy entered pell mell with them, fighting from aisle to aisle, from
+altar to altar, and in the courts and cloisters of the convent. The
+greater part of the cavaliers died bravely, sword in hand; the rest were
+disabled with wounds and made prisoners. The convent, which was lately
+their castle, was now made their prison, and in after-times, in
+commemoration of this event, was consecrated by the name of St. George of
+the Captives.
+
+The loyalty and the prowess of the good knight Pelistes had gained him the
+reverence even of his enemies. He was for a long time disabled by his
+wounds, during which he was kindly treated by the Arab chieftains, who
+strove by every courteous means to cheer his sadness and make him forget
+that he was a captive. When he was recovered from his wounds they gave him
+a magnificent banquet to testify their admiration of his virtues.
+
+Pelistes appeared at the banquet clad in sable armor, and with a
+countenance pale and dejected; for the ills of his country evermore preyed
+upon his heart. Among the assembled guests was Count Julian, who held a
+high command in the Moslem army, and was arrayed in garments of mingled
+Christian and Morisco fashion. Pelistes had been a close and bosom friend
+of Julian in former times, and had served with him in the wars in Africa;
+but when the count advanced to accost him with his wonted amity, he turned
+away in silence, and deigned not to notice him; neither during the whole
+of the repast did he address to him ever a word, but treated him as one
+unknown.
+
+When the banquet was nearly at a close, the discourse turned upon the
+events of the war; and the Moslem chieftains, in great courtesy, dwelt
+upon the merits of many of the Christian cavaliers who had fallen in
+battle, and all extolled the valor of those who had recently perished in
+the defence of the convent. Pelistes remained silent for a time, and
+checked the grief which swelled within his bosom as he thought of his
+devoted cavaliers. At length, lifting up his voice, 'Happy are the dead,'
+said he, 'for they rest in peace, and are gone to receive the reward of
+their piety and valor! I could mourn over the loss of my companions in
+arms, but they have fallen with honor, and are spared the wretchedness I
+feel in witnessing the thraldom of my country. I have seen my only son,
+the pride and hope of my age, cut down at my side; I have beheld kindred
+friends and followers falling one by one around me, and have become so
+seasoned to those losses that I have ceased to weep. Yet there is one man
+over whose loss I will never cease to grieve. He was the loved companion
+of my youth, and the steadfast associate of my graver years. He was one of
+the most loyal of Christian knights. As a friend he was loving and
+sincere; as a warrior his achievements were above all praise. What has
+become of him, alas! I know not. If fallen in battle, and I knew where his
+bones were laid, whether bleaching on the plains of Xeres, or buried in
+the waters of the Gaudalete, I would seek them out and enshrine them as
+the relics of a sainted patriot. Or if, like many of his companions in
+arms, he should be driven to wander in foreign lands, I would join him in
+his hapless exile, and we would mourn together over the desolation of our
+country!'
+
+Even the hearts of the Arab warriors were touched by the lament of the
+good Pelistes, and they said: 'Who was this peerless friend, in whose
+praise thou art so fervent?'
+
+'His name,' replied Pelistes, 'was Count Julian.'
+
+The Moslem warriors stared with surprise. 'Noble cavalier,' exclaimed
+they, 'has grief disordered thy senses? Behold thy friend, living and
+standing before thee, and yet thou dost not know him! This, this is Count
+Julian!'
+
+Upon this, Pelistes turned his eyes upon the count, and regarded him for a
+time, with a lofty and stern demeanor; and the countenance of Julian
+darkened, and was troubled, and his eye sank beneath the regard of that
+loyal and honorable cavalier. And Pelistes said, 'In the name of God, I
+charge thee, man unknown! to answer. Dost thou presume to call thyself
+Count Julian?'
+
+The count reddened with anger at these words. 'Pelistes,' said he, 'what
+means this mockery? Thou knowest me well; thou knowest me for Count
+Julian?'
+
+'I know thee for a base imposter!' cried Pelistes. 'Count Julian was a
+noble Gothic knight; but thou appearest in mongrel Moorish garb. Count
+Julian was a Christian, faithful and devout; but I behold in thee a
+renegado and an infidel. Count Julian was ever loyal to his king, and
+foremost in his country's cause: were he living, he would be the first to
+put shield on neck and lance in rest, to clear the land of her invaders:
+but thou art a hoary traitor! thy hands are stained with the royal blood
+of the Goths, and thou hast betrayed thy country and thy God. Therefore, I
+again repeat, man unknown! if thou sayest thou art Count Julian, thou
+liest! My friend, alas! is dead; and thou art some fiend from hell, which
+has taken possession of his body to dishonor his memory and render him an
+abhorrence among men!' So saying, Pelistes turned his back upon the
+traitor, and went forth from the banquet; leaving Count Julian overwhelmed
+with confusion, and an object of scorn to all the Moslem cavaliers.
+
+
+
+
+ON SEEING A LADY WEEP OVER A NOSEGAY.
+
+
+  Though plucked from off the parent stems,
+    The flow'rs forget to die,
+  When Beauty all their leaves begems
+    With tears from her sweet eye.
+
+  There is a heart which throb'd to-day
+    To see thee weep alone.
+  And longed to wipe those drops away,
+    Or make that grief its own.
+
+                                                  PLUTARCH SHAW: 1844.
+
+
+
+
+LITERARY NOTICES.
+
+
+    LITERARY REMAINS OF THE LATE WILLIS GAYLORD CLARKE. Parts Three and
+    Four. New-York: BURGESS, STRINGER AND COMPANY.
+
+The reception given to our notice of this serial work in our last number,
+has emboldened us to refer to the issues which have since appeared,
+containing a copious variety of matter which will be new to great numbers
+of our readers. One of the best evidences of the _naturalness_ and ease of
+our author's writings, is to be found in the ready appreciation of them by
+all classes of readers. Whether the vein be a serious one, or the theme
+turn upon the humorous or the burlesque, it is not too much, we think, to
+say that the writer takes always with him the heart or the fancy of the
+reader. Without however pausing to characterize productions which bid fair
+to become very widely and favorably known, we shall venture, under favor
+of the reader, to present a few more extracts, 'which it is hoped may
+please.' The following illustration of a night-scene at the Kaatskill
+Mountain-House, on the evening of the Fourth of July, we can aver to be a
+faithful Daguerreotype sketch, for we saw it with the writer:
+
+    'Take my arm, and step forth with me from the piazza of the
+    Mountain-House. It is night. A few stars are peering from a dim
+    azure field of western sky; the high-soaring breeze, the breath of
+    heaven, makes a stilly music in the neighboring pines; the meek
+    crest of Dian rolls along the blue depths of ether, tinting with
+    silver lines the half dun, half fleecy clouds; they who are in the
+    parlors make 'considerable' noise; there is an individual at the
+    end of the portico discussing his quadruple julep, and another
+    devotedly sucking the end of a cane, as if it were full of
+    mother's milk; he hummeth also an air from _Il Pirata_, and
+    wonders, in the simplicity of his heart, 'why the devil that there
+    steam-boat from Albany doesn't begin to show its lights down on
+    the Hudson.' His companion of the glass, however, is intent on the
+    renewal thereof. Calling to him the chief 'help' of the place, he
+    says: 'Is that other antifogmatic ready?'
+
+    'No, Sir.'
+
+    'Well, now, person, what's the reason? What was my last
+    observation? Says I to you, says I, 'Make me a fourth of them
+    beverages;' and moreover, I added, 'Just you keep doing so; be
+    _constantly_ making them, till the order is countermanded.' Give
+    us another; go! vanish!--'disappear and appear!''
+
+    'The obsequious servant went; and returning with the desired
+    draught, observed, probably for the thousandth time: 'There!
+    that's what I call the true currency; them's the _ginooyne_
+    mint-drops; HA--_ha_--ha!'--these separate divisions of his
+    laughter coming out of his mouth at intervals of about half a
+    minute each.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    'There is a bench near the verge of the Platform, where, when you
+    sit at evening, the hollow-sounding air comes up from the vast
+    vale below, like the restless murmurs of the ocean. Anchor
+    yourself here for a while, reader, with me. It being the evening
+    of the national anniversary, a few patriotic individuals are
+    extremely busy in piling up a huge pyramid of dried pine branches,
+    barrels covered with tar, and kegs of spirits, to a height of some
+    fifteen or twenty feet--perhaps higher. A bonfire is premeditated.
+    You shall see anon, how the flames will rise. The preparations are
+    completed; the fire is applied. Hear how it crackles and hisses!
+    Slowly but spitefully it mounts from limb to limb, and from one
+    combustible to another, until the whole welkin is a-blaze, and
+    shaking as with thunder! It is a beautiful sight. The gush of
+    unwonted radiance rolls in effulgent surges adown the vale. How
+    the owl hoots with surprise at the interrupting light! Bird of
+    wisdom, it is the Fourth! and you may well add your voice to swell
+    the choral honors of the time. How the tall old pines, withered by
+    the biting scathe of Eld, rise to the view, afar and near; white
+    shafts, bottomed in darkness, and standing like the serried spears
+    of an innumerable army! The groups around the beacon are gathered
+    together, but are forced to enlarge the circle of their
+    acquaintance, by the growing intensity of the increasing blaze.
+    Some of them, being ladies, their white robes waving in the
+    mountain breeze, and the light shining full upon them, present,
+    you observe, a beautiful appearance. The pale pillars of the
+    portico flash fitfully into view, now seen and gone, like columns
+    of mist. The swarthy African who kindled the fire regards it with
+    perspiring face and grinning ivories; and lo! the man who hath
+    mastered the quintupled glass of metamorphosed _eau-de-vie_,
+    standing by the towering pile of flame, and, reaching his hand on
+    high, he smiteth therewith his sinister pap, with a most hollow
+    sound; the knell, as it were of his departing reason. In short, he
+    is making an oration!
+
+    'Listen to those voiceful currents of air, traversing the vast
+    profound below the Platform! What a mighty circumference do they
+    sweep! Over how many towns, and dwellings, and streams, and
+    incommunicable woods! Murmurs of the dark, sources and awakeners
+    of sublime imagination, swell from afar. You have thoughts of
+    eternity and power here, which shall haunt you evermore. But we
+    must be early stirrers in the morning. Let us to bed.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    'You can lie on your pillow at the Kaatskill House, and see the
+    god of day look upon you from behind the pinnacles of the White
+    Mountains in New Hampshire, hundreds of miles away. Noble
+    prospect! As the great orb heaves up in ineffable grandeur, he
+    seems rising from beneath you, and you fancy that you have
+    attained an elevation where may be seen _the motion of the world_.
+    No intervening land to limit the view, you seem suspended in
+    mid-air, without one obstacle to check the eye. The scene is
+    indescribable. The chequered and interminable vale, sprinkled with
+    groves, and lakes, and towns, and streams; the mountains afar off,
+    swelling tumultuously heavenward, like waves of the ocean, some
+    incarnadined with radiance, others purpled in shade; all these, to
+    use the language of an auctioneer's advertisement, 'are too
+    tedious to mention, but may be seen on the premises.' I know of
+    but one picture which will give the reader an idea of this
+    etherial spot. It was the view which the angel Michael was polite
+    enough, one summer morning, to point out to Adam, from the highest
+    hill of Paradise.'
+
+Many and many a young father will recognize, in the following, his own
+emotions, as he looks in moments of thoughtfulness upon the little
+'olive-branches' around him, in whom he lives over again his own earliest
+years:
+
+    'To those who are disposed to glean philosophy from the mayhap
+    less noticeable objects of this busy world, there are few sights
+    more lovely than childhood. The little cherub who now sits at my
+    knee, and tries, with tiny effort, to clutch the quill with which
+    I am playing for you, good reader; whose capricious taste, varying
+    from ink-stand to paper, and from that to books, and every other
+    portable thing--all 'moveables that I could tell you of'--he has
+    in his little person those elements which constitute both the
+    freshness of our sublunary mortality, and that glorious
+    immortality which the mortal shall yet put on. Gazing upon his
+    fair young brow, his peach-like cheek, and the depths of those
+    violet eyes, I feel myself rejuvenated. That which bothered
+    Nicodemus, is no marvel to me. I feel that I have a new existence;
+    nor can I dispel the illusion. It is harder, indeed, to believe
+    that he will ever be what I am, than that I am otherwise than he
+    is now. I can not imagine that he will ever become a pilous adult,
+    with harvests for the razor on that downy chin. Will those golden
+    locks become the brown auburn? Will that forehead rise as a varied
+    and shade-changing record of pleasure or care? Will the classic
+    little lips, now colored as by the radiance of a ruby, ever be
+    fitfully bitten in the glow of literary composition!--and will
+    those sun-bright locks, which hang about his temples like the soft
+    lining of a summer cloud, become meshes where hurried fingers
+    shall thread themselves in play? By the mass, I can not tell. But
+    this I know. That which hath been, shall be: the lot of manhood,
+    if he live, will be upon him; the charm, the obstacle, the
+    triumphant fever; the glory, the success, the far-reaching
+    thoughts,
+
+      'That make them eagle wings
+      To pierce the unborn years.'
+
+The 'Ollapodiana' papers are concluded in the third number, and a portion
+of the issue is devoted to the commencement of the 'Miscellaneous Prose
+Papers' of the writer, which are both numerous and various, 'A Chapter on
+Cats' records an amusing story, replete with incident, which turns upon
+the deplorable consequences, in one sad instance at least, of cat-killing.
+An illustrative although not satisfactory passage is subjoined:
+
+    'I am subject, in summer, to restlessness. Thick-coming fancies
+    mar my rest, and my ear is peculiarly sensitive to the least
+    inappropriate sound. One sultry evening in July, I returned home
+    later than usual, from an arbitration, wherein I lost a cause on
+    which I had counted certainly to win. I suspect I bored the
+    arbitrators with too long a plea, and too voluminous quotations of
+    precedents; for when I finished, two were asleep, and most of the
+    others yawning. They decided against my client, and I came home
+    mad with chagrin, and crept into bed, longing for speedy oblivion
+    in the arms of Sleep.
+
+    'But that calm sister of Death would not be won to my embrace. I
+    lay tossing for a long time in 'restless ecstacy,' until vexed and
+    overwearied nature at last sunk to repose. I could not have
+    slumbered over ten minutes, before I was awakened by the most
+    outrageous caterwauling that ever stung the human ear. I arose in
+    a fury, and looked out of the window. All was still. The cause for
+    outcry appeared to have ceased. Now and then there was a low
+    gutteral wail, between a suppressed grunt and a squeal; but it was
+    so faint that nothing could have lived 'twixt that and silence.
+    After a listening probation of a few minutes, I slunk back into my
+    sheets.
+
+    'I had scarcely dozed a quarter of an hour, when the obnoxious
+    vociferations arose again. They were fierce, ill-natured, and
+    shrill. I arose again, vexed beyond endurance. All was quiet in a
+    moment. I am not given to profanity; I deem it foolish and wicked;
+    but on this occasion, after stretching my body like a sheeted
+    ghost, half out of the window, and gazing into the shadows of the
+    garden to discover the object of my annoyance, I exclaimed in a
+    loud and spiteful voice, which expressed my concentrated hate:
+
+    ----'_D--n that cat!_'
+
+    ''Young gentleman,' said a passing guardian of the night, from the
+    street, 'you had better pop your head in and stop your noise. If
+    you don't, you will rue it; now mind-I-tell-ye.'
+
+    ''Look here, old Charley,' said I, in return, 'don't be
+    impertinent. It is your business to preserve the peace, and to
+    obviate every evil that looks disgracious in the city's eye. You
+    guard the slumbers of her citizens; and if you expect a dollar
+    from me at Christmas, for the poetry in your next annual address,
+    you will perform what I now request, and what it is your solemn
+    and bounded duty to do. Spring your rattle; comprehend that vagrom
+    cat, and take her to the watch-house, I will appear as plaintiff
+    against the quadruped, before the mayor, in the morning. Her
+    character is bad--her habits are scandalous.'
+
+    ''Oh, pshaw!' said the watchman, and went clattering up the
+    street, singing 'N'hav p-a-st dwelve o'glock, and a glowdee morn.'
+
+    'I reverted to my pillow, and fell into a train of conjectures
+    touching the grimalkin. Possibly it might be the darling old
+    friend of Miss Dillon. Then I thought of others--then I slept.
+
+    'I cannot declare to a second how long my fitful slumber lasted,
+    before I was startled from my bed by a yell, which proceeded
+    apparently from a cat in my room. I had just been dreaming of a
+    great mouser, with ears like a jackass, and claws, armed with long
+    'pickers and stingers,' sitting on my bosom, and sucking away my
+    breath. I sprang at once into the middle of the room. I searched
+    every where--nothing was in the apartment. Then there rushed
+    toward the zenith one universal cat-shriek, which went echoing off
+    on the night-wind like the reverberation of a sharp thunder-peal.
+
+    'My blood was now _up_ for vengeance. One hungry and fiery wish to
+    destroy that diabolical caterwauler, took possession of my soul.
+    At that instant the clock struck one. It was the death knell of
+    the feline vocalist. I looked out of the window, and in the light
+    of a stray lot of moonshine, streaming through the tall chimneys
+    to the south-east, I saw Miss Dillon's romantic favorite,
+    alternately cooing and fighting with a large mouser of the
+    neighborhood, that I had seen for several afternoons previous,
+    walking leisurely along the garden wall, as if absorbed in deep
+    meditation, and forming some libertine resolve. In fine, they each
+    seemed saturate with the spirit of the Gnome king, Umbriel, in the
+    drama, when he
+
+                      ----'stalked abroad
+      Urging the wolf to tear the buffalo.'
+
+    'The death of one of these noisy belligerents being determined on,
+    I looked round my room for the tools of retribution. Not a
+    moveable thing, however, could I discover, save a new pitcher,
+    which had been sent home that very day, and to which my name and
+    address were appended on a bit of card. I clutched it with
+    desperate fury, and pouring into my bowl the water contained in
+    it, I poised it in my hand for the deadly heave. I had been a
+    member of a quoit club in the country, and the principles of a
+    clever throw were familiar to me. I resolved to make the vessel
+    describe what is called in philosophy a _parabolic curve_, so that
+    while it knocked out the brains of one combatant, it should
+    effectually admonish the survivor of the iniquity of his doings. I
+    approached the window--balanced the pitcher--and then drave it
+    home. Its reception was acknowledged by a loud, choking squall--a
+    faint yell of agony, and then a respectful silence. Satisfied that
+    my pitcher had been broken at the fountain of life, and that the
+    silent tabby would not soon tune her pipes again, I retired to
+    bed, and slept with the serenity and comfort of one who is
+    conscious of having performed a virtuous action.
+
+    'In the morning, the cat was found 'keeled up' on a bed of pinks,
+    with her head broken in, and her ancient and venerable whiskers
+    dabbled in blood. The shattered pitcher lay by her side. The
+    vessel had done its worst--so had my victim.'
+
+The story proper, upon the consecutive incidents of which we shall not
+touch, closes with the annexed whimsical anecdote:
+
+    'An anonymous wag not long ago, placed an advertisement in each of
+    our city journals, signed by an eminent house on the Delaware
+    wharf, and stating that FIVE HUNDRED CATS were wanted immediately
+    by the firm. The said firm in the meantime knew nothing of the
+    matter.
+
+    'On visiting their counting-house the next morning, the partners
+    found the streets literally blocked up with enterprising
+    cat-sellers. Huge negroes were there, each with ten or fifteen
+    sage, grave tabbies tied together with a string. Old market-women
+    had brought thither whole families of the feline genus, from the
+    superannuated _Tom_, to the blind kitten. The air resounded with
+    the squallings of the quadrupedal multitude. New venders, with
+    their noisy property, were seen thronging to the place from every
+    avenue.
+
+    ''What'll you _guv_ me for this 'ere lot?' said a tall shad-woman,
+    pressing up toward the counting-room. 'The newspapers says you
+    allows liberal prices. I axes a dollar a piece for the old 'uns,
+    and five levys for the kittens.'
+
+    ''You have been fooled,' said the chief partner, who appeared with
+    a look of dismay at the door, and was obliged to speak as loud
+    amid the din as a sea-captain in a storm. 'I want no cats. I have
+    no use for them. I could not eat them. I couldn't sell them. I
+    never advertised for them.'
+
+    'A decided mendicant, a member of the great family of loafers,
+    with a red, _bulgy_ nose, and bloated cheeks, who had three cats
+    tied to a string in his hand, now mounted a cotton bale, and
+    producing a newspaper, spelt the advertisement through as audibly
+    as he could under the circumstances, demanding of the assembly as
+    he closed, 'if that there advertysement wasn't a true bill?' An
+    unanimous 'Sarting!' echoed through the crowd. Encouraged by the
+    electric response, the loafer proceeded to make a short speech. He
+    touched upon the rights of trade, the liberty of the press, the
+    importance of fair dealing, and the benefits of printing; and
+    concluded by advising his hearers to go the death for their
+    rights, and 'not to stand no humbug.' Such was the effect of his
+    eloquence, that the firm against which he wielded his oratorical
+    thunder found it necessary to compromise matters by treating the
+    entire concourse to a hogshead of wine. 'The company separated at
+    an early hour,' consoled for the loss of their bargains and the
+    emptiness of their pockets by the lightsomeness of their heads and
+    hearts.'
+
+Let us hope that our readers will find, in the entire work from which we
+quote, ample reasons for the favor which it is receiving at the hands of
+the public.
+
+
+    MENTAL HYGIENE: OR AN EXAMINATION OF THE INTELLECT AND PASSIONS.
+    Designed to illustrate their Influence on Health and the Duration of
+    Life. By WILLIAM SWEETSER, M. D. In one volume. pp. 270. New-York: J.
+    AND H. G. LANGLEY.
+
+This is a work destined, as we can easily foresee, to produce great good.
+Its leading design, as its title implies, and as is stated indeed by the
+author in his preface, is to elucidate the influence of intellect and
+passion upon the health and endurance of the human organization; an
+influence which has been but imperfectly understood and appreciated in its
+character and importance, by mankind at large. The volume under notice is
+divided into two parts. Under the first are considered the intellectual
+operations in respect to their influence on the general functions of the
+body; under the second is embraced a view of the moral feelings or
+passions, in the relation which they also sustain to our physical nature.
+Of these a concise definition is offered, with such classification as is
+necessary to the leading design of the work. Their effects upon the
+different functions of the animal economy are next noticed; and a
+description is given of a few of the most important passions belonging to
+each of the three great classes; namely, pleasurable, painful and mixed,
+into which they are separated; their physical phenomena and individual
+influence on the well-being of the human mechanism being closely examined.
+A forcible exposition is also given of the evil consequences resulting
+from an ill-regulated imagination (acting through the instrumentality of
+the passions, morbidly excited by its licentious operation,) to the
+firmness of the nervous system, and the integrity of the general health.
+The volume is not addressed to any particular class of readers, and being
+free from technical expressions, is rendered plain and comprehensive to
+all. We commend this volume of Mr. SWEETSER cordially to our readers,
+firmly impressed with the belief that the principles which it advances may
+be rendered subservient both to the physical and moral welfare of our
+countrymen.
+
+
+    LIFE IN THE NEW WORLD, BY SEATSFIELD: translated from the German by
+    GUSTAVUS C. HEBBE, LL. D., and JAMES MACKAY, M.A. New-York: J.
+    WINCHESTER, 'New World' Press.
+
+The fourth number of this very remarkable work has been published; and we
+have had a fair opportunity of testing the merits of the mysterious
+author. The circumstances must now be generally known, under which these
+works appear before the public. It appears that MUNDT, a German scholar,
+who is publishing a continuation of SCHLEGEL'S History of Literature, has
+in his delineations of character given almost unbounded praise to an
+American named SEATSFIELD. Among the various works attributed to him are
+'Life in the New World,' 'Sea, Sketches,' 'South and North,' 'Virey,' the
+'Legitimate,' and others, which are to be issued in rapid succession from
+the press of WINCHESTER, 'the indefatigable,' as he may well be called;
+for the rapidity with which he sends out to the world the literary
+novelties of the day is a theme of public marvel. The German, in which
+these volumes are written, is said by competent judges, to be very pure
+and powerful: and indeed we may rest assured that if the case were
+otherwise, a critic of such high reputation as MUNDT would never have
+spoken of SEATSFIELD in such enthusiastic terms. The publisher, we
+understand, obtained several of the works from the library of Columbia
+College, through the politeness of Professor TELLKAMPT.
+
+The opinion, which some have expressed, that SEATSFIELD'S books are made
+up of stolen selections from different American writers, is unfounded. We
+cannot recognize in his style or thought familiar passages; and beside,
+there does not appear to be any rational inducement for this species of
+plagiarism. It is evident that the writings are indeed what they appear to
+be, the genuine productions of an able man. The descriptions of natural
+scenery are very graphic. 'The first trip on the Red River,' and the
+description of the trappers, is one of the most animated sketches we have
+ever read. Our mountains, rivers, cataracts, ocean-lakes, and forests, are
+described with the most remarkable spirit and truth.' The translation, we
+are informed by the best judges, is extremely faithful.
+
+
+    POETRY AND HISTORY OF WYOMING. By WILLIAM L. STONE, Esq. Second
+    edition, enlarged. New-York: MARK H. NEWMAN.
+
+This indefatigable laborer in the mine of Indian history continues to
+throw off from time to time works upon that subject, which bear the marks
+of great industry, patient research, and extensive information, and which
+have deservedly given him a high literary reputation as an historical
+writer. What has yet appeared we believe is only the beginning of a series
+of works relating to Indian annals, which are to be completed as soon as
+the author's health, and the duties of an arduous profession, will allow.
+From a late honor conferred upon him by one of the remnants of the Six
+Nations, in electing him one of their chiefs, by the name of
+SA-GO-SEN-O-TA, it seems plain that they highly approve of his efforts to
+preserve their history; and it may be considered as endorsing the accuracy
+of his investigations. In this light, the honor conferred, though coming
+from those whom civilization is crushing beneath its superior intelligence
+and power, is valuable and important. The present book takes the poetical
+share of its title from the fact that the author has prefixed CAMPBELL'S
+celebrated poem, preceded by a sketch of his life, furnished by WASHINGTON
+IRVING. 'Gertrude of Wyoming,' though beautiful, and seeming to be a
+narrative of real incidents in a poetical dress, is nevertheless a
+fiction, albeit founded upon an actual tragedy, whose horrors can hardly
+be exaggerated by any pen. It has been the design of our author to record
+the real history of the section of country which was stained by this
+tragedy, and which for this reason, has a melancholy interest thrown over
+its natural charms.
+
+The history of Wyoming does not commence, as many suppose, with the war of
+the American revolution. Long before, the conflict of human passions in
+the breast of savage and civilized man had discolored its soil with blood.
+During this antecedent period, its aboriginal annals are replete with
+incidents, which were greatly multiplied after the civil wars which
+disturbed the repose of that secluded valley had begun to be waged between
+the rival claimants to the territory from Connecticut and Pennsylvania,
+and which for twelve or thirteen years prior to the revolutionary war
+present a series of the most stirring events. The author, therefore, in
+order to render the history complete, has taken it up before the first
+known visit of the white men; of whom, among the earliest, were the
+Moravian missionaries. To the honor of these men, be it recorded, that in
+this instance, as in others, they plunged into the depths of the forest,
+and labored among the savages with a christian zeal and enterprize which
+have never been surpassed. The scenes of the revolution, embracing not
+only the great massacre in July, 1778, with its frightful horrors, but
+also a number of other bloody forays of the Indians upon the white men,
+are moreover faithfully described. But after all, perhaps the most
+interesting portion of the volume is formed of the narrative of the
+services and sufferings of individuals and families. These latter records
+are full of those wild and romantic incidents which are peculiar to border
+warfare; where the steady courage and determined bravery of the European
+appears in deadly conflict with the wiliness, cunning, and sleepless
+vengeance of the savage. To say that all this is narrated by the author in
+the spirit of accurate history, would be far below the meed of praise that
+is due. He has executed this part of the book in a style of animated and
+lively description, and with that flowing and finished diction, which can
+only be attained when the mind of a writer is perfectly familiar with the
+events, and when, by the force of imagination, he becomes himself as it
+were an actor instead of a spectator of the scenes which he narrates.
+
+Additional interest is given to this spot, from the fact, which probably
+is not generally known, except to the professed historian, that the
+distinguished patriot TIMOTHY PICKERING took up his abode in the valley of
+Wyoming, attracted no doubt by its unrivalled beauties, to which he was
+first introduced during a military campaign, but which he afterward
+contemplated, on the return of peace, with an eye capable of being charmed
+by the picturesque in nature. The concluding chapter of the book is
+devoted mainly to a spirited account of the abduction of that gentleman,
+and his confinement in the wilderness by a gang of ruffians, who, after
+trying in vain to bend his soldier-like mind to a compliance with their
+violent designs, gave him an ungracious release, and allowed him to return
+to his family. Among the papers in the appendix, now first introduced to
+the public, will be found a deed of purchase, made from the Indians ninety
+years ago, by the Connecticut Land Company, containing the names of some
+six hundred of the most wealthy and distinguished people of that State. It
+is important as a means of showing the valuation of land at that period,
+and a proof that it was acquired by honest purchase. This edition has been
+enlarged to the amount of more than one hundred pages of letter-press; an
+addition found necessary by the discovery of increased materials by the
+author since the publication of the first edition.
+
+In concluding this brief notice of a work written with decided talent, and
+designed to fill an important niche in the early history of this country,
+we are bound to thank the author, and to express the hope that he will be
+able to finish the historical design which he has sketched, pertaining to
+that interesting race, of whom it may be truly said, that 'the hour of
+their destiny has already struck.' This volume shows us, that in our own
+country may be found topics for literary effort, worthy of employing the
+gifted pens of America, without going abroad in quest of subjects, in the
+discussion of which we shall long be surpassed by foreigners, on account
+of their superior facilities and larger sources of information. As a book
+entirely American, we commend it to the reading public, confident that it
+will be received with favor wherever it is read, and be considered a
+valuable addition to the historical department of every gentleman's
+library.
+
+
+    A NEW SPIRIT OF THE AGE. By R. H. HORNE. In one volume. New-York:
+    HARPER AND BROTHERS.
+
+The Mr. HORNE who stands sponsor for this 'child of many fathers' must not
+be confounded with Mr. HARTWELL HORNE, who in a literary point of view is
+quite another person. The author of the volume before us, however, with
+the aid of sundry fellow _litterateurs_ 'of the secondary formation,' as
+CARLYLE phrases it, has collected together quite a variety of materials,
+the whole being intended to form a sort of sequel to HAZLITT'S 'Spirit of
+the Age,' a brilliant work, to which the present bears slight resemblance.
+We quite agree with a contemporary, that it manifests little or no
+independence of judgment or originality of thought. 'It is the result of
+the labor of many hands, and those not the most skilful or experienced. It
+consequently wants that homogenousness of style which one would expect in
+a professed imitation of so excellent a model. The highest degree of merit
+that can be accorded to it is that of a collection of magazine articles of
+second rate merit. It is likely to prove popular with the generality of
+readers who do not trouble themselves to dip beneath the surface of
+things; but we must caution those who would form a just estimate of the
+characters and merits of the distinguished writers whose works are
+analyzed in it, that its premises are not always correct nor its
+deductions sound.'
+
+
+
+
+EDITOR'S TABLE.
+
+
+A DAY WITH THE GREAT SEATSFIELD.--The Boston Daily Advertiser recently
+divulged, with a most curious air of bewilderment, the name of a new, and
+as it seems hitherto unheard-of, ornament to American literature--the
+illustrious SEATSFIELD. Illustrious, however, only upon the other side of
+the water; for it appears that we Yankee cotton-raisers have somewhat else
+to do than to busy our brains about any letters except letters of credit,
+or any fame that is not reverberated from abroad. No one, of course, at
+all conversant with modern German literature, not even the slightest
+skimmer of their late periodical publications, or the most occasional
+peruser of the _Allgemeine Zeitung_ or _Dresden Bluthundstaglich_, can
+have failed to notice with patriotic pride the gradual but gigantic
+progress of this new VOLTAIRE to the highest pinnacle of popular renown.
+But, sooth to say, our western world is so overrun with pretenders; there
+are so many young gentlemen annually spawned by Yale and Cambridge, who
+affect to read German without being able to construe the advertisement of
+a Leipsic bookseller; so numerous are the blue-spectacled nymphs who quote
+JEAN PAUL betwixt their blanc-mange and oysters, without comprehending
+even the outermost rind of its in-meaning; so utterly ignorant are our
+so-called literati of any subject beyond the scope of a newspaper, that
+the name of SEATSFIELD sounded as strangely in American ears as if he had
+lately arrived from Herschel or Georgium Sidus in a balloon. It is true
+that some two or three of our eminent scholars, a few travellers, men of
+taste, who had wandered by the Rhine, were acquainted with his reputation,
+and in some degree with his productions. EMERSON doubtless must have been
+aware of his renown; Professor FELTON of course had read him as often as
+he has HOMER; JONES, WILKINS, and F. SMITH had studied him with delight.
+The 'Dial,' a journal of much repute, had even spoken openly, we are told,
+of his success in Europe. Mr. W. E. CHANNING, the poet, had evidently but
+perhaps unconsciously imitated his peculiar viscidity of style, and (if we
+may use such an expression.) extreme flakiness of thought. But in spite of
+these few exceptions to the general indifference, let it stand recorded,
+that when the name of SEATSFIELD returned to his own shore, it was an
+alien and unmeaning word. His own country, so deeply indebted to his
+powerful pen, absolutely knew him not. The literati stared, and the Boston
+Advertiser was struck aghast with wonder. What a comment upon the state of
+letters in America! 'Literary Emporium,' forsooth! 'Western Athens!'
+Medici of Manhattan! how grossly we Yankees do misapply titles! It was the
+very 'Literary Emporium' itself that was most astounded at the
+newly-discovered mine. SEATSFIELD'S name had overspread civilized Europe;
+his productions had been dramatized at Munich and Bucharest; they had been
+translated into Russian and Turkish; the Maltese mariner had learned to
+solace himself with his 'Twilight Helmsman's Hymn,' and the merchants of
+Syra and Beyrout adorned their mansions with his bust; yet Boston,
+New-York, and Philadelphia had never heard his name! In the lack of more
+minute information with regard to this remarkable man, perhaps the
+following page or two from a traveller's journal may prove acceptable to
+the public. The absolutely total obscurity of the subject in America, may
+also, it is hoped, serve as an apology for the openness of detail and
+apparent breach of etiquette in regard to private intercourse.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'It has been my fortune to spend a day in company with the man who of all
+men has done the most to illustrate our manners and character; yet who,
+strange to say, is less known than 'Professor' INGRAHAM. As it was then my
+fortune to speak _with_ him; I now consider it my duty to speak _of_ him,
+and to do what little I am able, to extend his name among his compatriots.
+
+'In the spring of the year previous to this, or to be exact, in April,
+1843, I found myself at Berlin. My friend, Mr. CARLYLE, of London, had
+given me a letter to THEODORE MUNDT, and I had learned soon after my
+arrival that this distinguished man was in town. I had consequently looked
+over my letters, after dinner, and had selected the one addressed to
+MUNDT, and laid it under a little plaster bust of SCHILLER that stood just
+over the stove, in the room where I dined. In the evening I walked into
+the _Ermschlagg Buchzimmer_.[2] Several students were making annotations
+from huge volumes, and many grave, pale gentlemen were turning over the
+reviews and periodicals of the day. Among these I recognized an Englishman
+whom I had fallen in with at Cologne but parted with at Heidelberg. He had
+been in Berlin three days before me, and I was truly glad to meet with an
+acquaintance even of so recent a date, to whom I could apply for
+information or advice as to the best way of seeing the lions. While I was
+whispering to him, a grim-visaged old Teuton looked up at us with a stern
+frown, and my friend observed, 'We must retire into the _Sprechensaale_,
+or conversation-room.' As soon as we had entered this adjoining apartment,
+to the evident satisfaction of the aforesaid grim Teuton, I observed a
+tall, thin man, of angular and wiry aspect, see-sawing his body in front
+of the stove, toward which he had turned his back, as he stood in
+apparently deep cogitation. 'You don't know who that is,' quoth my friend;
+'there is _one_ of the lions, to begin with. I found out his name this
+morning: that is THEODORE MUNDT.' Struck as I was with the stranger's
+aspect, which appeared to me altogether American, I stared at him till he
+suddenly raised his dark eyes, and fixed them on mine. To disembarrass
+myself from my seeming rudeness as politely as possible, I bowed to his
+gaze, and said inquiringly: 'I have the honor to address Mr. MUNDT?'
+
+    [2] A new public library and reading-room in Berlin.
+
+''You have the _luck_,' he said, 'but the honor is _his_.'
+
+''Honors are even, then,' said I, as brusquely as I dared; and of all
+animals a traveller is the most impudent. 'I have in my pocket,' I
+continued, 'a letter for you from my friend CARLYLE.' At the name of
+CARLYLE he raised his hands in surprise, then rubbed them with delight,
+and began to eulogise his friend.
+
+'All this while I was fumbling in my pocket for my letter, when suddenly
+it flashed over me that I had put it under the bust in the tavern. I grew
+confused for a moment, and then as Mynheer MUNDT held out his hand for the
+letter, I burst into a laugh, and confessed that I had left my letter at
+home. MUNDT looked very serious, and quoted from Othello, 'That is a
+fault;' and then from Macbeth, 'To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow.'
+I thought there was a little affectation in this; perhaps it was merely
+complimentary; but the immediate result of our imperfect acquaintance was,
+that I made bold to introduce my friend to MUNDT, who invited us both to
+his rooms to supper. On our way thither, as we passed the _Brunswik
+Gasthaus_, where I lodged, I stepped in to procure my letter, and MUNDT
+appeared rejoiced to hear directly from his 'very _fine_ friend' CARLYLE,
+as he queerly styled him.
+
+'I should feel that I was venturing on forbidden ground were I to reveal
+more of what passed between us that evening. There was some drawing of
+corks and some puffing of Hamburg-made Cheroots, which MUNDT declared to
+be genuine Oriental; there was a ham of Westphalia, and a bit of La
+Gruyere. But with all this we have nothing to do. I fear that I have
+already made my preface too long. Enough be it then to say, that MUNDT
+first revealed to me on this occasion (I am ashamed to own it) the name
+and talents of our countryman SEATSFIELD. How enthusiastic he was I will
+not describe; but his enthusiasm could only be equalled by his surprise
+that I was not familiar with his writings.
+
+'On the next day MUNDT gave me a letter to SEATSFIELD, directed to him at
+Basle, in Switzerland, near which he owns a beautiful villa. I did not
+find him at Basle, however, and I proceeded to Milan without delivering my
+letter. On my return from Italy, I happened to learn that SEATSFIELD was
+at Graffenburg in Silesia; and although it was forty leagues from my
+purposed route I encountered the delay, out of mere curiosity of seeing so
+distinguished a man. This time I was not disappointed. One day only I
+spent at Graffenburg, but that day was sufficient to fill me with a truly
+German (I wish I could say American) admiration of my countryman.
+Graffenburg, it should be remarked, is the famous scene of Doctor
+PRIESSNITZ'S wonderful hydropathic cures. Being there only for a single
+day, I did not think it best to submit in all points to the cold water
+treatment; neither did SEATSFIELD, for I noticed that he mixed two
+table-spoonfuls of gin with every gill of cold water. SEATSFIELD is a man
+of about middle-age, with a penetrating eye, and rather a good form,
+though not unusually muscular. His face bears a remarkable resemblance to
+the pictures of NUMA POMPILIUS; the benign smile of each is the same. His
+chin is round and full, although partially concealed by a slight beard;
+his nose, which is of a truly German outline, is marked by the 'dilated
+nostril of genius;' and his whole aspect is that of a thorough man of the
+world. I will continue my reminiscence by extracting verbatim a page or so
+from my imperfect, though as far as it goes, authentic diary. I am
+convinced however that his remarks will lose much from the want of his
+pointed manner of enunciation. His English was faultless, and he spoke as
+well as if he had never been out of America. Very few Americans indeed,
+and no British-Islanders, talk so correct and chaste a dialect.
+
+
+EXTRACT FROM MY JOURNAL.
+
+                                          _Graffenburg, July 4_, 1844.
+
+'I was very fortunate, they tell me, to find SEATSFIELD in so
+companionable a mood. He appeared in high spirits, and was exceedingly
+conversible. The glorious return of our national anniversary had a visible
+effect upon him. I presented my letter to him last evening, but he was
+weary, and retired early. When I first met him in the Upper Bath-room
+Walk, this morning, he congratulated me upon the brightness and brilliancy
+of the day. 'You have much to be thankful for, Sir,' he observed; 'the day
+is perfectly American. Just such a sun as this is now dawning upon
+Broadway and the Battery. The sound of India-crackers and the pleasant
+smell of lobsters is already perceptible to the senses of the awakening
+Manhattanese.'
+
+'Boston, too, my native city,' I observed, 'is also alive to the holiday
+influences. Boston Common I dare say is already white with tents, and the
+fragrant commerce of the booths is just commencing on the Mall.'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'Yes, Sir; but Boston and Philadelphia both fail in developing
+the true character-stamp-work (_character-stampfen-werk_) of the day. To
+see the Fourth of July in its glory, one should visit New-York. To my
+senses, which are uncommonly acute, there is a peculiar smell about the
+Fourth of July in New-York, which differs in toto from that of any other
+holiday.'
+
+'In Boston we also have the perfume of lobsters and egg-pop blended with
+that of orange-peel and pine-apple----'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'That, Sir, is but a feeble rationale of the New-York savor. I
+have often, in a jocose mood, amused myself with analyzing this odor. I
+have resolved it into the following elements: lobsters, gunpowder,
+trampled-grass, wheel-grease, and cigars. It is mainly to these
+ingredients, grafted upon the other ordinary city smells, that I attribute
+the Fourth of July smell.'
+
+'There is one that you have failed to detect; namely, a faint whiff of
+barn-yards, owing I presume to the strong prevalence of farmers and other
+rustics from the surrounding country.' SEATSFIELD smiled at this, and
+acknowledged, in a laughing way, an occasional intimation of manure.
+'Graffenburg,' I observed, 'is remarkably free from all strong odors; it
+is a very clean village.'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'That, Sir, is owing to the water: depend upon it, wherever
+water prevails neatness will ensue. Temperance and cleanliness go hand in
+hand. The ancients were a filthy race, and they were great wine-bibbers.
+What a condition of personal and mental nastiness is divulged by HORACE in
+his 'Iter ad Brundusium;' yet HORACE was a choice specimen of a Roman
+gentleman.'
+
+'Have you had any poets among you here? or is the hydropathic system too
+repugnant to their art?'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'Our countryman, LONGFELLOW, was here not long since. I sat at
+table with him frequently; but never introduced myself to him.'
+
+'Do you think highly of his powers?'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'As a prolific generator of novel life-images, no; but as a
+vivid delineator of the inner-thought principle, as an artistical
+displayer of the higher subjective mood, he is of the very first class. I
+honor LONGFELLOW.'
+
+'He is perhaps our smoothest versifier, next to HALLECK.'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'Nay, he is the only one among us who can combine extreme
+polish and the utmost facility of flow with deep-seated reflection.'
+SEATSFIELD then quoted, with a sublime energy, from the celebrated 'Psalm
+of Life:'
+
+  ''Not enjoyment and not sorrow
+    Is our destined end or way,
+  But to act, that each to-morrow
+    Find us farther than to-day.
+
+ 'In the world's broad field of battle,
+    In the bivouac of life,
+  Be not like dumb driven cattle,
+    Be a hero in the strife.
+
+ 'Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant,
+    Let the dead Past, bury its dead;
+  Act, act in the glorious Present,
+    Heart within and GOD o'er head.''
+
+'You give the poet a great advantage,' I said, 'in quoting his very finest
+production, and picking out the choicest stanzas. Beside, his theme here
+is one of so general a nature, and so familiar to philosophy, that it
+would be hard for any one to moralize upon it in verse without
+accidentally hitting upon some sublimity. The commonest intellect has
+lofty and awful thoughts whenever it gives way to serious meditation upon
+our mortality.'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'That is partly true; but LONGFELLOW is not only great upon
+that ground. His realm is very extensive. No man has the power (had he
+only the will) of depicting the simplicity of every-day life and objects
+with more grace or comprehensiveness. There are some touches in his
+'Village Blacksmith' inexpressibly beautiful, and worthy of BURNS'
+'Cotter's Saturday Night:'
+
+  'His hair is crisp and black and long,
+    His face is like the tan;
+  His brow is wet with honest sweat,
+    He earns whate'er he can,' etc.
+
+And then again:
+
+  'He goes on Sunday to the Church,
+    And sits among the boys;
+  He hears the parson pray and preach,
+    He hears his daughter's voice
+  Singing in the gallery,
+    And it makes his heart rejoice.'
+
+SEATSFIELD repeated these verses with much emotion; and I observed that a
+tear stood upon his lids. I therefore turned the conversation upon
+hydropathy, and introduced a quotation from PINDAR: [Greek: ariston men
+hydor], _etc._
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'PINDAR, Sir, has expressed a great truth; but I think that
+PIERPONT has expressed it better. In his exquisite 'Ode on the Opening of
+the Marlborough Temperance-House' how beautifully he says, after speaking
+in regard to the virtues of cold water:
+
+  'Oh! had EVE'S hair
+    Been dressed in gin,
+  Would she have been
+    Reflected fair?'
+
+'And then, after describing the beauty of Eden, with its rills and
+pellucid brooks bubbling through the fresh meads, he goes on:
+
+  'Are not pure springs
+    And chrystal wells
+  The very things
+    For our Hotels?'
+
+'That, Sir, is excellent, and the somewhat homely imagery only enhances in
+my mind the truth of the sentiment. PIERPONT, Sir, is a very great man.'
+
+'As great as LONGFELLOW?'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'No, Sir, perhaps not; there is a considerable difference of
+calibre between them. I should say now that LONGFELLOW was a first-rate
+artist with a second-rate imagination, and that PIERPONT was only a
+second-rate artist with a first-rate fancy. There is no mistake in
+PIERPONT.'
+
+I smiled at SEATSFIELD'S affectation of Americanisms, as if out of
+compliment to myself, or in honor of the day; and I rejoined: 'There may
+be no mistake in PIERPONT, but there is one or two in LONGFELLOW.'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'Grammatical or prosodiacal?'
+
+'Neither; but in the beginning of his 'Psalm of Life,' he says:
+
+  'Tell me not in mournful numbers
+    Life is but an empty dream;
+  For the soul is dead that slumbers,
+    And things are not what they seem.'
+
+'Here he evidently meant things _are_ what they seem; for in the next
+stanza he goes on to say:
+
+  'Life is real, life is earnest,
+    And the grave is not its goal;
+  'Dust thou art, to dust returnest,'
+    Was not written of the soul.'
+
+Consequently, if life _is_ real and earnest, and the soul is incapable of
+mortality, things _must be_ what they seem, and the soul _cannot_ be dead
+that slumbers. And if the soul _is_ dead that slumbers, and things are
+_not_ really what they seem to be, life _is_ indeed an empty dream.'
+SEATSFIELD looked puzzled at this.
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'You are somewhat hypercritical. Great thoughts must not be
+trimmed to the exact dialect of business-men. LONGFELLOW reveals important
+truths; he utters what is pent within him from the impulse of utterance:
+he tells us that 'Art is long and Time is fleeting;' now some arts are not
+long, and time often drags heavily. It will not do to be too precise in
+poetry.'
+
+'But is that sentiment original? Does not one of the ancients say, '_Ars
+longa, vita brevis_?' and does not that come pretty near to LONGFELLOW'S
+idea?'
+
+SEATSFIELD: 'Yes, Sir, but that is a little criticism which picks out
+words. LONGFELLOW, or yourself, or any other man, would have arrived at
+the same conclusion, even had the ancient author never written it.'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'We were here interrupted by a call to luncheon; and I take advantage of
+the break in my journal, to bring this article to a close. More of the
+SEATSFIELDIANA I reserve for another number, provided the public are not
+already glutted.'
+
+
+MAGAZINE WRITING.--We know not how we can better evince our appreciation
+of the kind and flattering comments of a Southern correspondent, who will
+at once recognize our allusion, than by citing the somewhat kindred
+remarks of an old and favorite contributor, now passed away from earth. It
+was a pleasing matter, he said, to sit down with the proper afflatus
+stirring within him, to write an article for a Magazine. 'If the work has
+a general prevalence; if its fame is rife on good men's tongues, the
+inspiration is the stronger. One says to himself, how many friends of mine
+will overlook these very lucubrations, perceive my initials, and recognize
+my name? How many pleasing associations will thus be awakened, and
+peradventure commendatory remarks expressed, concerning my powers? What a
+_quid pro quo_ for wakeful nights, emendations of phrases, the choosing of
+words, and toilsome revision! The other day,' he continues, 'while reading
+the proof-sheet of my article in the last KNICKERBOCKER, I fell into a
+train of reflection upon the large amount of care and labor which must be
+entailed upon the publisher and editor of an original Magazine. Some one
+has observed, that when we listen to an exquisite opera, or any elaborate
+and intricate piece of music, we think not how vast were the pains and
+attention bestowed upon every note and cadence; what efforts for
+perfection in a solo, what panting for a warble, what travail for a trill!
+Taken separately, and at rehearsals, in disjointed fragments of sound, how
+different are they from that volume of sweet concords which is produced
+when they are all breathed forth in order, to the accompaniment of flutes
+and recorders, in one full gush of melody! This is just like a Magazine.
+How many minds does it engage! Cherished thoughts and cherished feelings,
+polished or sublimated, there find utterance, and demand that honor and
+deference to which they are entitled. In his beautiful Introduction to the
+Harleian Miscellany, JOHNSON sets forth the necessity and benefit of
+similar writings, with reasons as conclusive as the language in which they
+are expressed is chaste and strong. In a country like ours, where the vast
+population move by common impulse; think promptly, are enlightened with
+ease, and turn to the best account that knowledge which is received with
+the greatest facility; are inspired with sacred and patriotic feelings
+from the bar, the senate, the pulpit, and the press; it is important and
+just that the readiest methods and means of instructive moral amusement
+should be the most esteemed and the best supported. I confess I never look
+into a Magazine, that I do not liken it to a large and pure reservoir of
+refreshing waters; derived from many streams, and prankt around its
+borders with the flowers and garniture of poesy; possessing qualities
+agreeable to every taste--the grave, the solid, the scientific, the light,
+the gay. It is a map of the higher moods of life. It conveys a sustenance
+with the relish of pleasure. All who favor it with their productions have
+different tastes and faculties of mind. Each one endeavors to do the best
+with his theme. He ornaments it in diction, or tasks his fancy, or
+explores the secrets of science, or illustrates the events and scenes of
+his country: he excites broad-mouthed laughter, by salutary jest and pun;
+he expatiates in pathetic sentences, or murmurs in the mellow cadence of
+song; or arouses interest by the embellishments wherewith history is
+refined, and which shed a light over the dim annals of the past, making
+them to smile,
+
+  ----'even as the radiant glow,
+  Kindling rich woods, whereon the etherial bow
+  Sleeps lovingly awhile.'
+
+'Now what I thought beside, while looking over my proof, was this: that a
+'circulating medium,' through which so many minds communicated their
+thoughts, produced and clothed with befitting language in solitary labor;
+smoothed, strengthened, or harmonized by revision, and rendered impressive
+by those helps and researches of which every _readable_ writer must avail
+himself; such a medium, I say, merits the esteem and respect of all. It
+deserves not to be taken up for judgment, at a momentary glance, by the
+undiscerning eye of careless inquiry. It should be read impartially, and
+spoken of, in all worthy points, with praise; in faulty ones, with
+tenderness. Our literature, I take it, is not yet a sufficiently flowery
+pursuit, to enable any of its votaries to sow its walks with brambles. By
+its influence, _the country_ is to be mentally illustrated; the clanking
+shackles of transatlantic humbug are to be thrown off; and the
+establishment of wholesome feelings, and reliance upon our own
+intellectual resources, firmly effected. I love to see the general press
+engaged now and then in cheering onward the laborers in the more
+unfrequented and toilsome avenues of our literary vineyard. It sends a
+GOD-speed to the bosoms of those whose travails are more for their country
+than themselves; and who are content, in anonymous pride, to believe, that
+it heralds that bright day of mental refinement which will ere long, among
+the freest and noblest confederacy of nations on earth, irradiate the
+utmost borders of that holy circumference,
+
+    'Our Native Land!'
+
+
+A THRUST WITH A TWO-EDGED WEAPON.--We rather incline to the opinion that
+the 'complainant below' is infringing the law which forbids the use of
+concealed weapons; that are not the less to be guarded against, certainly,
+when as in the present case they cut both ways. But our readers shall
+judge: DEAR EDITOR: The country, strange as it may appear, has peculiar
+and permanent inhabitants; neither dressing in skins, nor wearing their
+own feathers, but habited after the glimpses of fashion which reach them
+through their trees. As we have never yet met with a man who was so
+fortunate as to have no relations, we take it for granted that all
+city-zens, yourself among the rest, have country-cousins. Think of the
+countless multitudes that turn their longing eyes in the direction of a
+metropolis like this, yearning for a visit, and sending off by frequent
+_Opportunities_, never by mail, those remarkable epistolary compounds of
+hopes and wants which no other race of beings can compose in perfection:
+'Hope JOHN is well, and BETSEY will come and see us next summer; and
+want'--LAWSON and STEWART! what do they _not_ want? Every thing; from
+twenty yards of silk down to a penny's-worth of tape. The letters run
+somewhat in this guise, though less poetically:
+
+  'Cousin John, please to send down to-morrow,
+      At eight, by the Scarborough mail,
+  'Claudine, or the Victim of Sorrow,'
+      Don Juan, two mops and a pail;
+  Six ounces of Bohea from TWINING'S,
+      A peg-top, a Parmesan cheese,
+  Some rose-colored sarcenet, for linings,
+      A stew-pan, and STEVENSON'S Glees;
+  A song ending 'Hey-noni-noni,'
+      A chair with a cover of chintz,
+  A mummy dug up by BELZONI,
+      A skein of white worsted from FLINT'S.'
+
+Half the things that are sent for, they might buy at their own doors.
+Again and again we have known them put in commission and procure from an
+oppressed relative the identical productions of a manufactory within a
+mile of them. A singular virtue seems to abide in all that comes from the
+sunny side of Broadway.
+
+'You perhaps may not know what an OPPORTUNITY is. In love affairs you have
+undoubtedly experienced that it is every thing; but in rural affairs it is
+more. It is the common-carrier of a village. So soon as an inhabitant has
+expressed his intention of going to town, he becomes an Opportunity, and
+like a Chinese, liable to pains and penalties for leaving his native
+place. From every quarter pour in letters, bundles, and packages, which
+are to be carried with care and delivered with despatch. No thanks for his
+trouble, if they should reach their destination, and a general liability
+for the uncertain value of their contents if they should chance to be
+lost. So that an Opportunity's advent in town ought to be announced in
+this way: 'Arrived, HIRAM DOOLITTLE, from Connecticut, with m'dze to
+LEGION AND COMPANY.' The Opportunity not only transports, but acts as
+General Agent. Commissions are given him for a return freight. Hats,
+coats, dresses, are much wanted, which he is expected to select with
+taste, and to purchase cheap. Even the labyrinth of houses does not
+protect him from the Argus eyes of his consignees. They seek him out and
+insist upon his turning himself into a United States' mail and a HARNDEN'S
+express. It is not a week since we heard a consignee's friend's friend
+request an Opportunity to carry home a loaf of sugar to his country
+correspondent.
+
+'Perhaps, Friend KNICK., we are wounding your feelings all this time,
+tender by reason of many cousins and commissions; but we can assure you
+that we have an infinite respect for all relationship, and are rather
+blessed than bored by the requisitions of our own rural branches. We
+trust, however, that your rustic kith and kin do not come upon your house
+in the spring, in shoals like the shad. Unhappy editor, if it be so; for
+until the day predicted by ALPHONSE KARR, when connexions shall be cooked
+and _cotelettes d'oncle a la Bechamel_ and _tetes de cousin en tortue_
+shall smoke lovingly upon the table, there is nothing for you but to
+submit to your Fates, or to give up your house-keeping. But with country
+cozens, those provincials who are not bone of your bone, and who
+nevertheless at every visit to town call upon you with an eager look and
+covetous smile, as if to say, 'Ask us to dinner, we once invited you to
+tea,' there is but one method to pursue; the cut--the firm, unwavering,
+direct cut. Do not pretend not to see them, or to look fixedly in another
+direction, but give them the vacant, absent stare, as if you saw around
+them, and through them, and the image before you excited neither attention
+nor recollection. There are no terms to be kept with them. Their
+Shibboleth is not yours.
+
+'In the 'Absentee,' a London fashionable lady, Mrs. DAZEVILLE, goes to
+Ireland, and is hospitably received by Lady CLONBRONY, stays a month at
+her country-house, and is as intimate with Lady CLONBRONY and her niece
+Miss NUGENT, as possible; and yet when Lady CLONBRONY comes to London,
+never takes the least notice of her. At length, meeting at the house of a
+common friend, Mrs. DAZEVILLE cannot avoid recognizing her, but does it in
+the least civil manner possible: 'Ah, Lady CLONBRONY! Did not know you
+were in England! How long shall you stay in town? Hope before you leave
+England you will give us a day.' Lady CLONBRONY is so astonished at this
+ingratitude, that she remains silent; but Miss NUGENT answers quite
+coolly, and with a smile: 'A day? certainly, to you who gave us a month.'
+Miss EDGEWORTH evidently considers this a capital story; and we have no
+doubt that many stupid people who have read it consider it an excellent
+hit; but we can assure them that they know nothing of the woods and
+fields. It is a great favor to make people in the country a visit. It
+relieves them from the tiresome monotony of their rose-bushes and
+chickens; and by the active exertions in planning breakfasts and dinners,
+and making the one ride through the valley last for three afternoons,
+infuses if possible a certain degree of mental activity into their lives,
+which must be far from disagreeable to them. A cit too is in a certain
+degree a lion. The oldest town-jokes are as new in the country as last
+year's ribbons; and the neighbors gather together to view with delight a
+face that they have not seen every Sunday for the last fifty-two weeks,
+and are only too happy to engage the Novelty at a 'Tea.' But when they
+come to town, what can you do with them? Who the devil wants to see them?
+Your friends care little enough for you, still less for your agricultural
+acquaintances. You cannot bring yourself to go to PEALE'S Museum, or to
+see the talking-machine; and tickets at the opera are dear, unless you
+stand up. As we said before, you must cut them, or
+
+  'If you are a little man,
+  Not big enough for that,'
+
+you must try to have them arrested as soon as they arrive, as disturbers
+of domestic peace, and confined in the Tombs during the whole of their
+intended stay. If the Legislature sat in New-York instead of in a _country
+city_, they would pass some law similar to the South Carolina free-black
+law, confining all rural visitors, or at least making those liable to an
+indictment for false pretences, who claim acquaintance with the 'people of
+the whirlpool.'
+
+'If it were only for once, one might ask all his _rats des champs_ to meet
+one another at a Tea. This might be amusing, if the jest did not grow
+painful by repetition. There is no reciprocity in your dealings with such
+invitees. You will probably never again reach their Siberian settlement,
+whereas they come to town three times a year! It is not fair. It is a base
+cheat. How can they be so ungenerous and illiberal as to accuse you of
+neglect and ingratitude for not cultivating them when in the city? They
+might as well abuse you for not having a green-house! This doctrine of
+ours is so clearly reasonable, that all people of any breeding admit its
+truth, and act accordingly. You may stay a week at a country-seat, and
+need make no acknowledgments of any kind to the owner thereof in his
+town-house; whereas a dinner in the city is a debt of honor, which must be
+paid. This is a well settled law. Not that your obligation is by any means
+cancelled. It is not dead, but dormant. Next summer you will feel deep
+gratitude for the kindness you received during the last; but no such
+indebtedness is payable in urbanity. GEORGE SELWYN met in St.
+James-street, London, a man whom he had known very well in Bath, and
+passed steadily by him without a look of recognition. His acquaintance
+followed him, and said: 'Sir, you knew me very well in Bath.' 'Well, Sir,'
+replied SELWYN, 'in Bath I may possibly know you again.' Farewell.
+
+
+ANOTHER 'PELLET' FROM JULIAN.--Not a word is necessary by way of
+introduction to the ensuing passages from an epistle lately received from
+our esteemed friend and correspondent JULIAN. Happy husband of a happy
+wife and happier mother! Happy father! may his joy never be less: 'We are
+in the country! When you write this way, say 'To the care of ---- ----,
+Esq.', for we are designedly three miles from post-offices and newsboys. I
+have given warning that if any of the latter come within my grounds with
+his French things, I will souse him in the river, and hold him there till
+he shall be thoroughly chilled into a dislike of these parts. You will
+readily imagine why we are here. The excitements and distractions of city
+life for the last few months were too much for us, and there are some
+things that can only be enjoyed apart from the world. Here, we subside
+gradually and gracefully from that high and tense delirium from which I at
+least made my aerials, always coming back, however, to young JULIAN; who,
+by the way, is another occasion for country life, as I have great faith in
+first impressions, and I wish his to be bright and beautiful. Heaven
+preserve him from all darker colors; from the doubts, the glooms, the
+moral mistiness of your city atmosphere! Let no fog come between him and
+the bright sky, till he has well discovered that there is a heaven beyond,
+where there is neither cloud nor shadow, and up to which not one grain of
+all this dust and filth of the earth's whirling shall ever reach. It is
+quite enough that we are in sight and hearing of your great Babels; the
+jarring of their daily strife and the smoke of their torments. A lively
+and dashing river rolls between us, going off at a hand-gallop among rocky
+islands, over which we see their spires pointing up like electric-rods to
+avert the wrath that might otherwise descend upon them; and mingling with
+the dash of waters, we hear now and then their petty alarms, their
+steamers and fire-bells, and the dozen other occasions upon which they see
+fit to make a great noise in the world; but the travelled sound has a
+courtliness that is rather pleasant than otherwise; and as a key-note to
+our mocking-birds, it is quite worthy of the sweet south that brings it
+up. Whenever there is any sudden ebullition that cannot be pared down to
+the common air, we are made aware of it by a cannonading that is doubtless
+very considerable down there, but for any thing so ambitiously meant, it
+sounds here very miserable; a wretched attempt at notoriety, of which the
+most noticeable is the smoke of their powder. And so with all their
+sky-flourishing and rocketing, which we look at as at a falling star;
+pretty, no doubt, but not in our way. Every morning a railroad train
+starts out, and approaching within a mile, disappears among the hills with
+a slight buzzing and squibbing, like the fly on the window; and then after
+it has gone, as we suppose, there is another squib, very smart and
+snappish, and we hear nothing more of it till the train comes down, frets
+a little again as it passes by, and goes on to discharge its contents in
+the great city. To all these things we say, 'Pass on!' the world is
+various, and must be amused; but for us, we respectfully withdraw. We have
+had enough of the intense; we now welcome the trifling, appropriating
+however as much of the serious as we care to admit in our still life. When
+the Sabbath comes round, there are seven bells that reach us, each with
+its separate voice; and these, with falling waters, and the morning
+incense going up from the hill-sides, are as much of 'mass' as we care to
+have in our worship. But we have a ready ear for all sweet sounds, and
+need no glasses to appreciate the beautiful. Sunrise and sunset; the
+grouping of clouds; the blue haze that now and then lies on the landscape,
+all one with my cigar-smoke; and the storms and lightnings of the young
+summer, so spitefully beautiful; all these, with whatever of glory there
+may be in the still watches of the night, find their place in our
+picture-gallery; but we leave them as GOD made them, and add no tint to
+their coloring.
+
+'You are aware that the sun rises as per almanac. This is common; and so
+common, so much an every-day affair, that he gets very little credit
+therefor; and yet, that he will rise with great exactness, aside from all
+human calculation, and go on traversing the sky with a wonderful
+regularity that nothing can stop, is a very pleasant fact touching the
+prospect of to-morrow; and so also, that every thing in nature will be
+wrought with marvellous beauty and harmonies of sound; and oh! most
+satisfactory of all, there will still be an air that properly inhaled
+fills the _heart_ as well as the lungs. It is from a calm consideration of
+this fact, that we have done with the _eagerness_ of pleasure. No daily
+counting of hours to see that all have been properly brimmed; no grasping
+at a dozen things at once; no draining of the very dregs, lest that may be
+the last bottle, and we die to-morrow. But thankful as we are for
+to-morrow, and especially grateful for to-day, we don't care for
+noon-marks. We have kept no count lately, and for aught we know, Time may
+have stopped, but probably not. He is doubtless somewhere about, but we
+take no particular notice. Our watches have run down, and we care not to
+wind them again. The hours, if there are any, are all golden, and we have
+no occasion to note the passage one to the other; or if we start them,
+just to see the motion, they run on diamonds of the purest water; but
+mostly, whether it be morn, or mid-day, or the starry night, Sabbath or
+week-day, it is all one--all beautiful. Does it rain? It is quite proper.
+The earth needs it, no doubt, and it will look the more grateful therefor.
+Does it shine? Why then the birds will sing, and if they will come a
+little nearer, we will teach them that charming air from the last opera.
+Does a new star come out in heaven, or an old one disappear? The one will
+be an added glory, and the other not much missed; but they will little
+concern our astronomy. Expect no more rhapsodies, my friend, unless it be
+upon the wonderful ease with which every thing can be done without them.
+That we find all things pleasant, is the extent of our poetry. It is
+pleasant to wake; it is pleasant to sleep; it is pleasant to wake and
+sleep again; pleasant to watch the opening lid, and pleasant the smile
+that follows it; pleasant are kind words and tones, the touch of hands,
+and the touch of lips; the breath of flowers and those that love them;
+pleasant are the thousand infinitesimals, like the motes of the sun-beam,
+not less bright because of their minuteness; and pleasant the thought that
+sufficient as this heaven may be, there is another one above. And
+doubtless it is pleasant to breathe as usual, and feel the heart send
+round its currents with a touch of joy; but oh, pleasanter than all, to
+have no sigh or throb, to remind you that that breath must one day stop,
+and that warm blood turn cold. Oh! in the 'time' that is set apart 'for
+all things,' may heaven look kindly on and count these trifling hours!
+
+'Shall we ever leave this charming retreat? Certainly not, while these
+things last; but it is not impossible that we may return with the cold
+weather. Meanwhile, I have made a chalk-mark about the grounds, and as yet
+nothing with a bite or sting has passed over it. Mrs. JULIAN, as she now
+insists upon being called, has become highly contemplative; and if I did
+not know that she was never so happy before, I should think her sometimes
+a little sad; she is so quiet, so demure, and so eternally bewitched with
+that boy! Why Sir, she will sit for half a day over the fellow, amusing
+herself and him with I know not what varieties and wonders of invention;
+with lullabies and ditties and homoeopathies of language; and if he
+condescend to sleep for a few moments, how divinely still must every thing
+be! What infinite care is there in pinning the screen; what fortifications
+are built round about him; and what a world of protection in every
+movement! And then, when all is complete, she must still sit there, with
+that strange upward look which she has acquired lately, seeming to reach
+quite beyond the stars. She is a strange woman! Yesterday, having dined
+rather late, I happened to forget myself for a few moments on the lounge;
+and on waking, I found her kneeling before me, and looking up in my face
+with an expression that to me is peculiarly embarrassing; not the quick,
+joyous look, followed as quickly by the touch of lips; not that, but
+something quite indescribable. Perhaps I am not as considerate as I ought
+to be on such occasions, for doubtless she knows what she would be at, but
+I confess I do not. Indeed, she is constantly bringing out new points and
+flourishes, which to me are all vowels of the Hebrew; no doubt very sweet
+and musical, and certainly very necessary to the sense of the reading, but
+they are past all finding out. When she dazzles me with these brilliants,
+I sometimes reply in the Tartar, and so we are quits.
+
+'Young JULIAN developes slowly. He has smiled once or twice, but in a
+manner so precocious, that it would be alarming, if he were at all
+delicate. Fortunately he is not. His utterance as yet is quite
+unintelligible, though no doubt he has his meaning. To Mrs. JULIAN it is
+all poetry. '_Poeta nascitur_' may be quite true, but if he rhymes, which
+is quite possible to her ear, I am constrained to think that it is
+entirely accidental. I hope, at least, that he is not so viciously gifted.
+. . . HAVE I told you that she refuses a nurse, and that too pretty
+sharply? Well, that is not all; I can hardly touch the boy myself. She is
+so afraid I shall crush it! My raptures, she says, are not becoming; she
+even says that I 'frighten the child!' But she is the strangest of women!
+Last night, happening to wake some time in the small hours, I heard a
+slight noise in the room, and emerging from a dream, in which I remembered
+to have heard a good deal of crying and hushing, I listened intently for
+some moments, but couldn't for my life guess what it could be. There was
+nothing moving in the room, and the sound appeared to arise from some slow
+and uniform movement, so that it couldn't be the wind on the shutters; and
+if the mocking-birds had been sufficiently awake to swing, as they
+sometimes do, they would certainly have dropped a word or two, for they
+are great talkers. Now I often hear bells, fire-arms, and exclamations,
+and very often hear my name called, and questions asked, to which I reply
+in due form, all which I _know_ at the time to be imaginary; but this
+sound, though it seemed to be familiar, I couldn't make out. I was so
+drowsy, however, that I had half a mind to consider it a dream; but then
+what if any thing should happen? I should be responsible. Rising,
+therefore, very carefully, not to disturb Mrs. J., I discovered by the
+shaded light on the table that she was quite sound asleep; but what was
+wonderful, her right arm, outside the bed, was moving up and down with the
+regularity of a pendulum! What the deuce was all that? Well, Sir, I bent
+over breathlessly, and found she was pulling at a string! And what, O
+EDITOR! who ought to know every thing, what do you think she was pulling?
+Why, Sir, she was pulling at young JULIAN'S cradle. She was rocking the
+baby in her sleep! Oh!'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Apropos of 'the baby': an agreeable correspondent, from whom we shall be
+happy to hear 'frequently if not oftener,' intimates to us that our friend
+JULIAN, when the 'lactiferous animalcule' whose advent into this breathing
+world he lately described in such glowing terms, shall have reached a more
+mature babyhood, may find occasion to 'change the paternal note;' and he
+cites for us the following passage, from an essay by a sometime
+contributor to the KNICKERBOCKER, 'in justification of his fears:'
+
+    'In my bachelor visitations to my married friends, I have often
+    chuckled over the bashfulness, contending with love, which
+    distinguishes the YOUNG FATHER. In the pride of his heart,
+    perhaps, when his little man has first given evidence of that
+    degree of mental exertion called 'taking notice,' he clasps the
+    crowing baby in his arms; he rests its lily feet upon his knees;
+    he endures with philosophic patience all the 'gouging,' and
+    pulling, and kicking, with which the young hero may testify his
+    triumph; and while the young mother stands by, her eyes beaming
+    with mingled love and pride, he becomes warmer in his romps; makes
+    faces, as the nerveless fingers of the little one seek, with more
+    earnestness, his eyes, or pull with a greater effort at his lips;
+    and amid screams of laughter, he chases the flying hours, until at
+    length a 'pale cast of thought' flits over the baby's face, like a
+    cloud in a summer sky. This is the signal for immediate
+    seriousness. The father grows grave--then frightened. He raises
+    him gently from his lap, and with a single exclamation of 'Take
+    him mother!' consigns the precious charge to her arms, and darting
+    a hasty glance at his 'pants' he walks in silence from the room.
+    Nor do we bachelors always escape with impunity. Anxious to win a
+    smile from some fond mother, more than one of us may have dared to
+    approach, with a kiss, the hallowed lips of her darling. But mark
+    the quick wing of vengeance! Darting from its lurking place in the
+    mouth, out flies the little doubled fist, and slams a
+    well-beslabbered biscuit into the face of the intruder. He
+    recoils, with his 'reeking honors fresh upon him,' and the little
+    squab coos in triumph at his failure.'
+
+
+NATIONAL ACADEMY OF DESIGN.--The growing interest felt in relation to the
+Fine Arts in this country, and the influence which the NATIONAL ACADEMY OF
+DESIGN has had in producing that interest, make it imperative upon us to
+notice the pictures which are annually sent to this exhibition. In passing
+through the Academy with this object in view, we have been at some loss to
+know where to begin. Finding however by chance at the end of the catalogue
+an alphabetical arrangement of the exhibitors' names, we have adopted this
+as the best method of laying the merits of the several pictures before our
+readers. We therefore begin with:
+
+V. G. AUDUBON, A.--Mr. AUDUBON exhibits four pictures this season: of
+these, No. 133, 'Grove of Palm-trees' in the Island of Cuba, we prefer.
+This picture appears to be a faithful representation of the scene, and is
+handled with a free and firm pencil. The trees are perhaps a little too
+literally represented, to be agreeable to the eye, consisting as they do
+of so many equally straight and unpicturesque lines. No. 237, 'Moon-light
+Squall coming up,' is a pleasing representation of one of Nature's
+poetical moments. The light is clear and silvery, and the water
+transparent and truthful. The whole scene is interesting, and there is but
+little to find fault with; although perhaps parts would admit of more
+warmth of color.
+
+J. D. BLONDELL has six pictures, the majority portraits. No. 80, 'Portrait
+of a Lady,' half-length, is a pleasing picture; warm in color and
+carefully painted, and gives evidence of rising talent. The head is
+perhaps slightly deficient in careful drawing; but few artists are
+competent to paint a lady's portrait; and this gentleman should not feel
+discouraged, though his work be found slightly deficient in that grace
+which is so difficult of attainment.
+
+BODDINGTON, (London,) exhibits three landscapes, all in a style peculiarly
+belonging to the English school. They possess great charms; facility of
+execution, and delicacy of handling.
+
+BONFIELD.--No. 168 is perhaps the best of his productions. If it were not
+for the pinky hue of the sky, this would indeed be a charming picture.
+
+F. BAYLE.--No. 25; 'Picture-Dealer.' A deep-toned, carefully-painted
+picture, and evincing much promise in so young an artist. We are glad to
+perceive that it is purchased by the American Art-Union.
+
+G. L. BROWN.--No. 400; 'View of the Tiber.' Too much of an imitation of
+old pictures. In seeking this quality, the artist has lost sight of the
+truth and freshness of nature.
+
+CHAPMAN, N. A.--Mr. CHAPMAN presents nine pictures this season, and all in
+his usual brilliant style. No. 116, 'Peasant Girl of Albano,' is
+exceedingly rich in color, and forcible in effect: a few cool tints about
+the head-dress would give perhaps still greater value to the warm tones.
+No. 189, 'Hebrew Women,' is this artist's gem of the year. Well composed,
+pleasing in color, and carefully finished, it expresses the occurrence
+with fidelity and truth. No. 204, 'Boy in Indian Costume,' is an
+attractive picture; but No. 213, 'On the Fence,' is more to our liking.
+The story is well told; the city beau is carefully and truly represented;
+and the dogs are admirable. No. 263, portrait of Doctor ANDERSON, the
+father of wood-engraving in this country, is capital. No. 266, 'Lazy
+Fisherman,' is Laziness personified. No. 341, 'Sketch from Nature,' in
+water-colors, is an exemplification of this gentleman's versatility of
+talent.
+
+J. G. CLONNEY, A., has two pictures in the exhibition, Nos. 7 and 160. No.
+7, 'The New-Year's Call,' is decidedly the best. The negro is well
+painted. Mr. CLONNEY'S works generally evince great observation of nature
+in this class of subjects.
+
+T. COLE, N. A.--Mr. COLE exhibits but one picture, and that comparatively
+a small one. It possesses however many of the admirable characteristics of
+his works, particularly his early ones. It would be difficult to find a
+middle-ground and distance surpassing those of this picture.
+
+T. CRAWFORD, (Rome.)--Mr. CRAWFORD gives us two full-length statues, in
+which the charm of the _marble_ is strongly apparent. Mr. CRAWFORD, we
+grieve to say, is evidently too impatient in the finish of his works to
+produce that correctness which is essential to a high effort of art.
+
+J. F. CROPSEY.--No. 68, 'View in Orange County,' is a careful
+representation of nature, and has the appearance to our eyes of having
+been painted on the spot; a practice very rarely to be found in young
+artists. A continuance in this course will place this artist in a
+prominent position as a landscape-painter. The sky is faulty in color,
+being too purple to meet our views of nature; and there is a lack of
+delicacy in the more receding portions of the work. But the fore-ground is
+carefully painted, and full of truth.
+
+CUMMINGS, N. A.--Mr. CUMMINGS has but one picture. It possesses however
+the careful finish, gentlemanly character, and general truthfulness, so
+characteristic of this fine artist.
+
+T. CUMMINGS, JR., a young artist. No. 149, 'The Ball,' is his best work.
+In thus attempting a subject of great difficulty of execution, he evinces
+promise of future ability. The picture has many pleasing points, marked
+however with some errors, which time and practice, let us hope, will
+correct.
+
+C. CURTIS.--Mr. CURTIS has two pictures in the exhibition, and both of
+merit. No. 196 is among the best heads in the collection.
+
+J. W. DODGE, A.--'Miniature Portraits.' Those of HENRY CLAY and Gen.
+JACKSON are the most prominent. The likenesses are good, and the pictures
+carefully finished; a merit in works of this character frequently
+unattended to. There is, however, a want of dignity sometimes to be found
+in Mr. DODGE'S portraits, which we could wish to see remedied: it would
+give an elevation to his paintings which they at present lack.
+
+PAUL P. DUGGAN.--'John the Baptist' is a model in plaster, which displays
+greater knowledge of anatomy than we are in the habit of finding in the
+works of even older artists. In this respect it possesses great merit. We
+understand it is his first effort in modelling. As such, it is truly a
+work of the highest promise.
+
+DURAND, N. A.--Mr. DURAND has contributed largely to the present
+exhibition, in every sense of the word. His most prominent production is
+No. 36, 'The Solitary Oak.' For an exhibition-picture, perhaps it is not
+so striking as some of his previous works; yet it will bear examination
+better. Without any effort at warmth of color, it has that glow of
+sunlight which it is so difficult to express. A veteran tree, standing
+alone upon a gentle eminence, stretching forth its giant arms, that have
+withstood the storms of centuries, is truly a noble subject for an artist
+of Mr. DURAND'S reputation; and most truly has he depicted it. The
+distance is beautiful, and the introduction of cattle seeking their
+evening shelter gives an interest seldom to be found in works of this
+class. Should we attempt to find a fault, it would be the want of a little
+more warmth and clearness in the dark parts of the fore-ground. No. 134,
+another charming landscape; true to nature, of a silvery tone, and most
+exquisite sweetness of color and delicacy of touch. Nos. 181 and 258 are
+two careful studies from nature, wherein special care has been given to
+the trunks of trees, a feature in landscape-painting upon which sufficient
+attention is rarely bestowed. No. 244, 'Emigrant Family,' is full of
+interest. The travelling family are encamped under the shade of the trees,
+and the kettle hung over the fire shows that they are evidently preparing
+to refresh themselves for farther toil and journeying. The foliage of the
+trees is elaborately executed; the distance is well preserved; and the
+whole possesses great truth to nature; perhaps however, like all '_green_'
+pictures, it is less attractive in an exhibition than works of a warmer
+color. No. 163, 'Portrait of a Gentleman,' has great force, and shows the
+artist's versatility of genius.
+
+F. W. EDMONDS, N. A.--No. 105, 'Beggar's Petition,' is a spirited and
+faithful representation of the cold indifference to the wants of others,
+displayed in the miser's disposition. The figures are of life-size, and
+well drawn. The female supplicating in behalf of the distressed, is
+graceful in attitude, and admirably contrasted with the hoarding miser.
+No. 205, 'The Image Pedler,' is an effort of a higher order; for the
+artist has attempted, and successfully too, to elevate the class of works
+to which it belongs. In short, he has invested a humble subject with a
+moral dignity, which we hope our younger artists, who paint in this
+department, will not lose sight of. An independent farmer has his family
+around him, apparently immediately after dinner, and a strolling pedler
+appears among them, to dispose of his wares; and this gives interest to
+the whole group. The grandmother drops her peeling-knife, and the mother
+takes her infant from the cradle, to gaze at the sights in the pedler's
+basket. The husband, who has been reading in the cool breeze of the
+window, turns to participate in the sport; while the grandfather takes a
+bust of WASHINGTON, places it on the table, and commences an earnest
+elucidation of the character of the, 'Father of his Country' to the little
+children around him. All the figures are intelligent, and the whole scene
+conveys to the mind a _happy family_. In color, light and shade, and
+composition, it is masterly; and we see in it that minuteness of detail
+and careful finish are not incompatible with a broad and luminous effect.
+
+C. L. ELLIOTT has five portraits in the exhibition. His 'Full-length of
+GOV. SEWARD' is a prominent one, although not his most agreeable picture.
+No. 61 is we think the best, and is a well-managed portrait, both in
+drawing and color.
+
+G. W. FLAGG, H.--No. 63, 'Half-length of a Lady,' has considerable merit.
+It is rich and mellow in color, and better we think than many of Mr.
+FLAGG'S recent works. No. 208, 'The Widow,' is a popular picture; pleasing
+in expression, and possessing more refinement of character than is
+observable in many of his other portraits. No. 102, 'Bianca Visconti,' we
+do not admire.
+
+G. FREEMAN.--Miniature portraits, generally large, and highly finished.
+This gentleman has lately arrived from Europe, and is we believe a popular
+artist; yet we do not like his productions.
+
+J. FROTHINGHAM, N. A.--Nos. 32 and 35: portraits exhibiting Mr.
+FROTHINGHAM'S usual bold and free style in this department of art;
+remarkably fine likenesses; true in color, and of pleasing general effect.
+
+H. P. GRAY, N. A.--Mr. GRAY exhibits a number of his works this season. He
+seems to us to sacrifice every thing to color; and his color is not such
+as is generally seen in nature, but rather what he has seen in pictures.
+This we think a mistake, and one which we must be permitted to hope he
+will rectify. In the pictures which he formerly painted, a much closer
+attention to nature is observable. Mr. GRAY has all the feeling of an
+artist, with no ordinary talent; and we regret to find that he wanders
+from the direct path. We were among the first, if not the very first, to
+call public attention to his merits, and it is with reluctance that we
+perform the duty involved in these animadversions. 'Comparisons,' DOGBERRY
+tells us, 'are odorous;' we cannot help remarking, however, that Mr.
+GRAY'S old fellow-student, HUNTINGTON, is (_longa intervallo_) in the
+advance. We prefer, of our artist's present efforts, the picture of 'His
+Wife.' It has a pleasing effect, and is more finished than usual, and more
+natural in tone than his 'Magdalen.'
+
+J. T. HARRIS, A., has two pictures, and both portraits. No. 19 is the
+best. It exhibits a broad, free touch, and correct drawing, and is withal
+an excellent likeness. But we never look at Mr. HARRIS' works without
+being impressed with the idea that they are not finished. They seem to us,
+to borrow an artistical expression, as if they were in a capital state for
+'glazing and toning up.' Otherwise, they are above the ordinary run of
+portraits.
+
+G. P. A. HEALY, H.--Mr. HEALY is a resident of Paris, but an American. He
+is a favorite at the French court, and has by this means a reputation to
+which his works generally do not entitle him. We are bound in justice to
+say of his present effort, however, that it is an exceedingly fine
+picture. It is boldly and masterly executed; forcibly drawn, honestly
+colored, and well expressed. There is too about it a freedom from all the
+usual tricks of the profession, such as a red chair, velvet collar, and
+fantastic back-ground, which we particularly recommend to the attention of
+young artists.
+
+THOMAS HICKS, A., has eight pictures in the collection, but none,
+excepting his portraits, which equal his former productions. No. 264, 'The
+Mother's Grave,' is an oft-repeated subject, and should not be attempted
+unless the artist is able to treat it with entire originality. There are
+good points about it, but none sufficiently attractive to warrant
+particular notice.
+
+INGHAM, N. A., as usual has a fine collection of female portraits, all
+excellent for their careful drawing, lady-like expression, and high
+finish. The drapery and accessories of Mr. INGHAM'S portraits are always
+wonderfully exact to nature; and this greatly enhances the value of
+portraits of this description; for aside from their merit as likenesses,
+they will always be valuable as pictures. His male portrait, No. 113, of
+T. S. CUMMINGS, Esq., is a most admirable likeness, as well as a
+highly-wrought and masterly-painted picture. No. 239, 'Portrait of a
+Lady,' with a fan in her hand, is our favorite among his female heads.
+There is a sweetness and modesty in the expression, not only in the
+countenance but in the whole figure, which makes it peculiarly attractive.
+
+H. INMAN, N. A.--No. 62, 'Portrait of the late Bishop MOORE, of Virginia,'
+is the admiration of all who behold it. In color it surpasses any thing of
+Mr. INMAN'S we have seen in many a day. Clear and luminous, with great
+breadth of light, and a mild, pleasing expression. We of course mean this
+to apply to the head. The hand and part of the drapery are not, in our
+judgment, so well done. No. 104, 'Lady with a Mask,' we do not altogether
+like; yet it is remarkable for being foreshortened in every part, and
+possesses that singular charm of light and shadow, and accidental effect,
+which are the characteristics of our artist's pencil. No. 314, a
+Landscape, although small, is delicately handled, and 'touched in' with
+great neatness and accuracy. In effect it is attractive, and in color
+pleasing. The figure in the fore-ground equals in care and minuteness of
+finish the manner of WOUVERMANS.
+
+N. JOCELYN.--No. 57, 'Portrait of Professor SILLIMAN,' a faithful
+likeness, and carefully-painted portrait of a distinguished individual.
+No. 2, 'Portrait of a Child,' is another finished picture by this artist;
+clear and pearly in color and infantile in expression.
+
+ALFRED JONES.--No. 301, an engraving from MOUNT'S picture of 'Nooning,'
+for the American Art-Union, is one of the largest line-engravings ever
+published in this country, and a work of high order. This style of
+engraving has heretofore received so little encouragement, that until the
+Art-Union started it, no one except Mr. DURAND had ever before dared to
+attempt it. This effort of Mr. JONES does him great credit.
+
+M. LIVINGSTONE, A., has several works in the exhibition, but we cannot
+rank them among the higher class of landscapes. They lack the poetry of
+landscape-painting; but as amateur productions, they are very good.
+
+E. D. MARCHANT, A.--All portraits, but none of high merit. Mr. MARCHANT is
+a persevering artist, who paints good likenesses and pleasing pictures;
+and so far, is doubtless popular with those who employ him.
+
+JOHN MEGAREY has two portraits, and those far surpassing his former works.
+They are carefully painted, without an effort at any thing beyond the
+subject before the artist.
+
+We shall resume and conclude our remarks upon the exhibition in our next
+number.
+
+
+GOSSIP WITH READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS.--We are about to enter upon the
+TWENTY-FOURTH volume of the KNICKERBOCKER, for the advertisement of which,
+please note the second and third pages of the cover of the present number.
+We have nothing farther to add, than that 'what _has been_, is that which
+_shall be_,' in our onward progress. This Magazine, much the oldest in the
+United States, has been established, by the ever-unabated favor of the
+public, upon a basis of unshaken permanence. Its subscription-list
+fluctuates only in advance; it has the _affection_ of its readers, and all
+concerned in its production and promulgation, to a degree wholly
+unexampled; and it is designed not only to maintain, but continually to
+enhance, its just claims upon the liberal patronage of American readers.
+The arrangements for the next volume, if they do not 'preclude
+competition,' will be found, it is confidently believed, to preclude any
+thing like successful rivalry, on the part of any of our contemporaries.
+On this point, however, we choose as heretofore to be judged by the
+public. . . . WE gave in a recent issue two or three extracts from a
+lecture on '_The Inner Life of Man_' delivered by Mr. CHARLES HOOVER, at
+Newark, New-Jersey. This admirable performance has since been repeated to
+a highly gratified audience in this city; and from it we derive the
+following beautiful passage, which we commend to the heart of every lover
+of his kind: 'It is a maxim of patriotism never to despair of the
+republic. Let it be the motto of our philanthropy never to despair of our
+sinning, sorrowing brother, till his last lingering look upon life has
+been taken, and all avenues by which angels approach the stricken heart
+are closed and silent forever. And in such a crisis, let no counsel be
+taken of narrow, niggard sentiment. When in a sea-storm some human being
+is seen in the distant surf, clinging to a plank, that is sometimes driven
+nearer to the shore, and sometimes carried farther off; sometimes buried
+in the surge, and then rising again, as if itself struggling like the
+almost hopeless sufferer it supports, who looks sadly to the shore as he
+rises from every wave, and battling with the billow, mingles his cry for
+help with the wild, mournful scream of the sea-bird; nature in every bosom
+on the shore is instinct with anxious pity for his fate, and darts her
+sympathies to him over the laboring waters. The child drops his
+play-things, and old age grasps its crutch and hurries to the spot; and
+the hand that cannot fling a rope is lifted to heaven for help. What
+though the sufferer be a stranger, a foreigner, an enemy even? Nature in
+trouble, in consternation, shrieks '_He is a man!_' and every heart and
+hand is prompt to the rescue.' 'To a high office and ministry, to a life
+of beneficence, pity and love, each man should deem himself called by a
+divine vocation, by the appointment of nature; and otherwise living,
+should judge himself to be an abortion, a mistake, without signification
+or use in a world like ours. And the beauty, the glory of such a life, is
+not to be reckoned among ideal things heard out of heaven but never
+encountered by the eye. This world has had its CHRIST, its FENELONS, its
+HOWARDS, as well as its CALIGULAS and NEROS. Love hath been at times a
+manifestation as well as a principle; and the train of its glory swept far
+below the stars, and its brightness has fallen in mitigated and mellowed
+rays from the faces of men. As the ambiguous stranger-star of Bethlehem
+had its interpreting angel-song to the herdsmen of the plains, so loving
+men in all ages have given glimpses and interpretations of the love of
+GOD, and of the pity that is felt for the miserable and the guilty in the
+palace and presence-chamber of JEHOVAH. What glory within the scope of
+human imitation and attainment is comparable to that of the beneficent,
+the sympathising lover of his race? What more elevated, pure, and
+beautiful is possible among the achievements of an endless progression in
+heaven itself? MILTON represents the profoundest emotions of joy and
+wonder among the celestial hosts as occasioned by the first anticipative
+disclosures of divine pity toward sinning man; and a greater than MILTON
+assures us that the transport and festival of angelic joy occurs when Pity
+lifts the penitent from his prostration and forgives his folly.' . . .
+EMBELLISHMENT would seem to be the literary order of the day, in more ways
+than one. It has come to be the mode to express the most simple thought in
+the most magniloquent phrase. This propensity to lingual _Euphuism_ has
+given rise to sundry illustrations, in embellished maxims, which are
+particularly amusing. They are of the sort so finely satirized by
+'OLLAPOD,' on one occasion, two or three examples of which we annex. The
+common phrase of ''Tis an ill wind that blows nobody any good' was
+transformed into 'That gale is truly diseased which puffeth benefactions
+to nonentity;' 'Let well enough alone,' into 'Suffer a healthy sufficiency
+to remain in solitude;' and 'What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the
+gander,' into 'The culinary adornments which suffice for the female of the
+race _Anser_, maybe relished also with the masculine adult of the same
+species.' Some London wag, in a kindred spirit, has illustrated the
+cockney song, 'If I had a donkey as vouldn't go, do you think I'd wallop
+him?' etc., as follows: 'The herbaceous boon and the bland recommendation
+to advance, are more operative on the ansinine quadruped than the stern
+imprecation and the oaken cudgel:
+
+  'Had I an ass averse to speed,
+  I ne'er would strike him; no indeed!
+  I'd give him hay, and cry 'Proceed,'
+        And 'Go on EDWARD!''
+
+The same species of satire is now and then visited upon the 'Troubadour
+Songs,' which have become so afflictingly common of late years. Some of
+these we have already given; and we find them on the increase in England.
+We have before us, from the London press of TILT AND BOGUE, 'Sir
+WHYSTLETON MUGGES, a Metrical Romaunte, in three Fyttes,' with copious
+notes. A stanza or two will suffice as a specimen. The knightly hero, it
+needs only to premise, has been jilted by his fair 'ladye-love,' who
+retires to her boudoir, while the knight walks off in despair:
+
+    'Hys herte beat high and quycke;
+  Forth to his tygere he did call,
+  'Bring me my palfrey from his stall,
+    For I moste cotte my stycke!'
+
+    'Ye stede was brought, ye knyghte jomped up,
+  He woulde not even stay to sup,
+    But swyft he rode away;
+  Still groanynge as he went along,
+  And vowing yet to come out stronge,
+    Upon some future day.
+
+  'Alack for poore Syr WHYSTLETON,
+    In love and warre so bold!
+  Ye Ladye BLANCHE hym browne hath done,
+    He is completely solde!
+
+  'Completely solde alack he is,
+    Alack and wel-a-day;
+  Mort DIEU! a bitterre fate is hys
+    Whose trewe love sayth him nay!'
+
+Thus endeth 'Fytte ye First.' We learn from the preface that the 'Rhime of
+the Manne whose Mothre did not Know he was Out,' and 'Ye Lodgemente of
+Maistre FERGISOUN,' are also in the editor's possession, but owing to the
+imperfect state of the MSS., it is doubtful whether they will ever be
+published. They have however been submitted to the inspection of 'The
+PERCY Society!' . . . WE are well pleased to learn that Sir EDWARD LYTTON
+BULWER, the distinguished author, is soon to visit the United States. That
+he will be warmly welcomed and cordially received, we cannot doubt; but we
+have good reason to believe that in the present instance at least our
+admiration of true genius will be tempered by all proper self-respect. Mr.
+BULWER has for many years entertained a desire to visit America. In one of
+his letters to the late WILLIS GAYLORD CLARK, now lying before us, he
+writes: 'I have long felt a peculiar admiration for your great and rising
+country; and it gives me a pleasure far beyond that arising from a vulgar
+notoriety, to think that I am not unknown to its inhabitants. Some time or
+other I hope to visit you, and suffer my present prepossessions to be
+confirmed by actual experience.' . . . WE have received and perused with
+gratification the last report of the '_New-York Asylum for Deaf Mutes_.'
+The institution is in the most flourishing condition, and its usefulness
+greatly increased. We are sorry to perceive, by the following 'specimen of
+composition' of a pupil in the eighth class, that the 'Orphic Sayings' of
+Mr. A. BRONSON ALCOTT are taken as literary models by the deaf and dumb
+students. The ensuing is certainly much better, internally, than anything
+from the transcendental 'seer;' but the manner too nearly resembles his,
+for both to be original. There is the same didactic condensation, the same
+Orphic 'oneness,' which distinguishes all _Alcottism_ proper. It is
+entitled 'Story of Hog:'
+
+    'I walked on the road. I stood near the water. I undressed my
+    feet. I went in the water. I stood under the bridge. I sat on the
+    log. I washed my feet with hands. I looked at large water came. I
+    ran in the water. I ran out the water. The large water floated
+    fast. I afraid. I wiped feet with stockings. I dressed my feet
+    with stockings and shoes. I went on the ground. I stood on the
+    ground. I seen at the hog ate grass. The hog seen at me. I went on
+    the ground. I ran. The hog heard. The hog looked at me. It ran and
+    jumped. The hog ran under the fence and got his head under the
+    fence and want to ran out the fence! I caught ears its hog. The
+    hog shout. I pulled the hog out the fence. I struck a hog with
+    hand. I rided on the hog ran and jumped fast. The hog ran fell on
+    near the water. I rided off a hog. I stood. I held one ear its
+    hog. The hog slept lies on near the water. I waited. I leaved. I
+    went from the hog. The hog awoke. It rose. It saw not me. It ran
+    and jumped. The hog went from the water. The hog went in the mud
+    and water. The hog wallowed in the mud and water became very
+    dirty. It slept. I went. I went into the house.'
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE EKKALAEOBION is the name given to an establishment opposite the
+Washington Hotel, in Broadway, where the formation of chickens, _ab
+initio_, is 'practised to a great extent.' And really, it is in some
+respects an awful exhibition, to a reflecting mind. It is as it were a
+visible exposition of the source of life. You see the pulse of existence
+throbbing in the yet unformed mass, which assumes, day after day, the
+image of its kind; until at length the little creature knocks for
+admittance into this breathing world; steps forth from the shell in which
+it had been so long 'cabined, cribbed, confined, bound in;' and straitway
+walks abroad, 'regenerated, disenthralled,' and ready for its 'grub.' By
+all means, reader, go and see this interesting and instructive exhibition.
+It is provocative of much reflection, aside from the mere contemplation of
+it as a matter of curiosity. . . . THE correspondent who sends us the
+following, writes upon the envelope containing it: 'I have endeavored to
+preserve the measure of the original, and at the same time to present a
+literal translation.' It will be conceded, we think, that he has been
+successful in his endeavor. Perhaps in some lines (as in '_Pertransivit
+gladius_') the translation is a little _too_ literal:
+
+
+STABAT MATER.
+
+  I.                              I.
+
+  Stabat mater dolorosa,          Near the cross the Mother weeping
+  Juxta crucem lacrymosa,         Stood, her watch in sorrow keeping
+    Dum pendebat filius:            While was hanging there her SON:
+  Cujus animam gementem,          Through her soul in anguish groaning,
+  Contristantem et dolentem,      O most sad, HIS fate bemoaning,
+    Pertransivit gladius.           Through and through that sword was run.
+
+  II.                             II.
+
+  O quam tristis et afflicta      Oh how sad with woe oppressed,
+  Fuit illa benedicta,            Was she then, the Mother blessed,
+    Mater unigeniti:                Who the sole-begotten bore:
+  Quae moerebat, et dolebat,       As she saw his pain and anguish,
+  Et tremebat, cum videbat        She did tremble, she did languish,
+    Nati poenas inclyti.            Weep her holy Son before.
+
+  III.                            III.
+
+  Quis est homo qui non fleret,   Who is he his tears concealing,
+  Christi matrem si videret       Could have seen such anguish stealing
+    In tanto supplicio?             Through the Saviour-mother's breast?
+  Quis posset non contristari,    Who his deepest groans could smother,
+  Piam matrem contemplari,        Had he seen the holy Mother
+    Dolentem cum filio?             By her Son with grief oppressed!
+
+  IV.                            IV.
+
+  Pro peccatis suae gentis        Christ for Israel's transgression
+  Vidit Jesum in tormentis,      Saw she suffer thus oppression,
+    Et flagellis subditum;         Torment, and the cruel blow:
+  Vidit suum dulcem natum        Saw Him desolate and dying;
+  Morientem, desolatum,          Him she loved, beheld Him sighing
+    Dum emisit spiritum.           Forth His soul in deepest woe.
+
+  V.                             V.
+
+  Eja mater, fons amoris,        Source of love, thy grief, O Mother,
+  Me sentire vim doloris         Grant with thee to share another--
+    Fac, ut tecum lugeam.          Grant that I with thee may weep:
+  Fac ut ardeat cor meum,        May my heart with love be glowing,
+  In amando Christum Deum,       All on Christ my God bestowing,
+    Ut sibi complaceam.            In His favor ever keep.
+
+  VI.                            VI.
+
+  Saneta mater, istud agas,      This, oh holy Mother! granting,
+  Crucifixi fige plagas          In my heart the wounds implanting
+    Cordi meo valide:              Of His cross, oh let me bear:
+  Tui nati vulnerati,            Pangs with which thy Son when wounded
+  Jam dignati pro me pati,       Deigned for me to be surrounded,
+    Poenas mecum divide.          [] Grant, oh grant that I may share.
+
+  VII.                           VII.
+
+  Fac me vere tecum flere,       Be my eyes with tears o'erflowing,
+  Crucifixo condolere,           For the crucified bestowing,
+    Donec ego vixero:              Till my eyes shall close in death:
+  Juxta crucem tecum stare,      Ever by that cross be standing,
+  Te libenter sociare            Willingly with thee demanding
+    In planctu desidero.           But to share each mournful breath.
+
+  VIII.                          VIII.
+
+  Virgo virginum praeclara,       Thou of virgins blest forever,
+  Mihi jam non sis amara         Oh deny I pray thee never
+    Fac me tecum plangere;         That I may lament with thee:
+  Fadut portem Christi mortem,   Be my soul His death enduring,
+  Passionis ejus sortem,         And His passion--thus securing
+    Et plagas recolere.            Of His pains the memory.
+
+  IX.                            XI.
+
+  Fac me plagis vulnerari,       With those blows may I be smitten,
+  Cruce hac inebriari,           In my heart that cross be written,
+    Ob amorem filii:               For thy Son's dear love alway:
+  Inflammatus et accensus        Glowing, burning with affection,
+  Per te, virgo, sim defensus    Grant me, Virgin! thy protection,
+    In die judicii.                In the dreaded judgment-day.
+
+  X.                             X.
+
+  Fac me cruce custodiri,        May that cross its aid extend me,
+  Morte Christi praemuniri,       May the death of Christ defend me,
+    Confoveri gratia:              With its saving grace surround;
+  Quando corpus morietur,        And when life's last link is riven,
+  Fac ut animae donetur           To my soul be glory given,
+    Paradisi gloria.               That in Paradise is found.
+
+_St. Paul's College._                                         G. H. H.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'_A Story of Sorrow and Crime_' is an affecting monitory sketch, devoid of
+that mawkishness which is sometimes the characteristic of kindred
+performances. The writer's reflections upon the career of his hero, remind
+us of that beautiful passage in one of BLAIR'S essays: 'Life is short: the
+poor pittance of seventy years is worth being a villain for. What matters
+it if your neighbor lies in a splendid tomb? Sleep you with innocence!
+Look behind you through the track of time; a vast desert lies open in the
+retrospect; through this desert have your fathers journeyed on, until
+wearied with years and sorrows, they sunk from the walks of men. You must
+leave them where they fell, and you are to go a little farther, where you
+will find eternal rest. Whatever you may have to encounter between the
+cradle and the grave, every moment is big with innumerable events, which
+come not in slow succession, but bursting forcibly from a revolving and
+unknown cause, fly over this orb with diversified influence.' . . . 'F.
+P.'s '_Western Adventures_' have good _points_ about them, but if
+published entire, would we think disappoint himself perhaps as much as his
+readers. Here is an anecdote, however, which is worth 'jotting down' in
+types: 'I met not long after in New-York a man who had just been induced
+to rent the very hotel in Kentucky which was the scene of the reverses I
+have been describing. Aware that I had at one time kept the establishment,
+he was anxious to know my opinion of its pecuniary promise. 'I don't
+expect to make much the first year,' said he; 'I shall be satisfied if I
+'realize' all expenses. But do you think I shall clear myself the first
+year?' 'I haven't the slightest doubt of it,' I replied; '_I cleared
+myself_ before the first six months were up, and was d--d _glad_ to get
+off so; and I rather guess that _you'll_ be too, in about half that time.'
+And he was!' . . . Could there be a more affecting picture than that of a
+fond mother learning for the first time from the tell-tale prattle of her
+little ones that she is 'given over to darkness and the worm' by her
+friends, who had disguised from her the fatal truth? Such is the scene
+depicted in these pathetic lines:
+
+  'He speaketh now: 'Oh, mother dear!'
+    Murmurs the little child:
+  And there is trouble in his eyes,
+    Those large blue eyes so mild:
+
+  'Oh, mother dear! they say that soon,
+    When here I seek for thee
+  I shall not find thee--nor out there,
+    Under the old oak-tree;
+
+  'Nor up stairs in the nursery,
+    Nor any where, they say:
+  Where wilt thou go to, mother dear?
+    Oh, do not go away!'
+
+  There was long silence, a deep hush,
+    And then the child's low sob:
+  _Her_ quivering eyelids close: one hand
+    Keeps down the heart's quick throb.
+
+  And the lips move, though sound is none,
+    That inward voice is prayer.
+  And hark! 'THY will, O LORD, be done!'
+    And tears are trickling there--
+
+  Down that pale cheek, on that young head;
+    And round her neck he clings;
+  And child and mother murmur out
+    Unutterable things.
+
+  _He_ half unconscious, _she_ deep-struck
+    With sudden, solemn truth,
+  That number'd are her days on earth--
+    Her shroud prepared in youth:
+
+  That all in life her heart holds dear
+    GOD calls her to resign:
+  She hears, feels, trembles--but looks up,
+    And sighs 'THY will be mine!''
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+'I came down from Albany the other evening,' writes a correspondent, 'in
+that floating palace, the KNICKERBOCKER steamer; I slept in your
+KNICKERBOCKER state-room; arrived in town, I took after dinner a
+KNICKERBOCKER omnibus, and rode up to the 'Westminster Abbey Bowling
+Saloon,' named of KNICKERBOCKER; I called on you with my article for the
+KNICKERBOCKER Magazine; and on my way down, enjoyed a delightful ablution
+at the KNICKERBOCKER Bath; stepped into the KNICKERBOCKER Theatre, and
+'laughed consumedly' over an amusing play; and finally, closed with a cup
+of delicious tea, green and black, and anchovy-toast, at KNICKERBOCKER
+Hall. Every thing, I was glad to see, was KNICKERBOCKER.' Very flattering;
+yet we dare say our friend was not aware that this Magazine was the
+_pioneer_ in the use of this popular name in Gotham, and that its example
+has suggested, one after another, the namesakes to which he has alluded.
+Such, howbeit, is the undeniable fact. . . . We remarked the example of
+_catachresis_ to which 'L.' alludes, and laughed at it, we venture to say,
+as heartily as himself. It was not quite so glaring however as the
+confused images of a celebrated Irish advocate: 'I smell a rat; I see it
+brewing in the storm; and I will crush it in the bud!' . . . We find
+several things to admire in our Detroit friend's '_Tale of Border
+Warfare_;' but he can't 'talk Indian'--that is very clear. The 'abrogynes'
+are not in the habit of making interminable speeches: they leave that to
+white members of Congress, who pump up a feeling in a day's speech 'for
+Buncombe.' Do you remember what HALLECK says of RED-JACKET?
+
+  'The spell of eloquence is thine, that reaches
+    The heart, and makes the wisest head its sport;
+  And there's one rare, strange virtue in thy speeches,
+    The secret of their mastery--_they are short_.'
+
+Not one man in a thousand can talk or write the true 'Indian.' Our friend
+SA-GO-SEN-O-TA, formerly known as Col. WILLIAM L. STONE, is one of the
+best Indian writers in this country. His late letter 'To the Sachems,
+Chiefs, and Warriors of the Seneca Indians,' acknowledging the honor they
+had done him in electing him a chief, is a perfect thing in its kind. May
+it be long before the 'MASTER OF BREATH' shall call him to 'the fair
+hunting-grounds, through clouds bright as fleeces of gold, upon a ladder
+as beautiful as the rainbow!' . . . Our entertaining '_Dartmoor Prisoner_'
+has a pleasant story of a fellow-captive who on one occasion performed
+that 'cautionary' experiment which is sometimes denominated 'putting your
+foot in it.' The term is of legitimate origin, it should seem. According
+to the _Asiatic Researches_, a very curious mode of trying the title to
+land is practised in Hindostan. Two holes are dug in the disputed spot, in
+each of which the lawyers on either side put one of their legs, and remain
+there until one of them is tired, or complains of being stung by the
+insects, in which case his client is defeated. In this country it is the
+client and not the lawyer who 'puts his foot into it!' . . . We have
+commenced in the present, and shall conclude in our next number, a
+'_Legend of the Conquest of Spain_,' by WASHINGTON IRVING. We derive it
+from the same source whence we received the 'Legend of Don RODERICK,'
+lately published in these pages. We commend its graphic limnings and
+stirring incidents to the admiration of our readers. . . . A FRIEND and
+correspondent in a sister city dashes in with a rich brush, in one of his
+familiar letters to us, a sketch of a boss-painter, who was renovating the
+writer's house with sundry pots of paint; a conceited, half-informed prig,
+who having grown rich, talks of 'going to Europe in the steam-boat,' and
+has a huge fancy for seeing Italy. 'Yes,' said the house-and-sign RAPHAEL,
+'I must see Rome and Athens; them Romans allers made a great impression on
+me; the land of APELLES and XERXES; ah! that must be worth travelling
+for.' 'Would you not rather run over England?' I asked; but the ass
+_poohed_ at England, and on the strength of his daubing our house-blinds,
+claimed an interest in the Fine Arts abroad: 'No, Sir, give me Italy--the
+Loover and the Vattykin; them's the places for my money! Gods! how I
+should like to rummage over them old-masters! They beat _us_ all
+hollow--that's a fact. I'll give in to them. There never was such painters
+before, nor never will be. I want to study 'em.' 'Yes,' I rejoined;
+''twould interest you, doubtless; and after having studied the great
+painters in Italy, you might return by way of Switzerland, and scrape
+acquaintance with the _glaciers_.' The booby did not _take_, but only
+stared and said: 'Oh, they're famous for glass-work there, be they?' This
+lover of the Fine Arts had a counterpart in the man who having 'made as
+much money as he wanted by tradin' in Boston,' went 'a-travelling abroad;'
+and while in Florence, called on POWERS the sculptor, with a design to
+'patronize' him a little. After looking at his 'Greek Slave,' his 'Eve,'
+and other gems of art, he remarked that he 'thought they'd look a good
+'eal better if they had some clothes on. I'm pretty well off,' he
+continued, 'and ha'n't a chick nor child in the world; and I thought I'd
+price a _statty_ or two. What's the damage, now, for that one you're
+peckin' at?' 'It should be worth from four to five thousand dollars, I
+think,' answered POWERS. 'What! five thousand dollars for _that 'are_! I
+cal'lated to buy me a piece of _stattyary_ before I went home, but
+_that's_ out of the question! _Hasn't stattyary riz lately?_ How's
+paintin's here now?' . . . Just complaints are made by our city
+contemporaries of the exorbitant rates of postage upon weekly periodicals.
+Mr. WILLIS complains, in the '_New-Mirror_' weekly journal, that country
+postmasters charge so much postage on that periodical by mail, that in
+many cases it would make the work cost to its country subscribers something
+like ten dollars a year! All postage in this country is at too high a
+rate; and so long as it remains so, the law will continue to be evaded.
+'Cheating UNCLE SAM' is not considered a very heinous offence. There is
+nothing one robs with so little compunction as one's country. It is at the
+very worst robbing only eighteen millions of people. . . . The lines sent
+us in rejoinder to the stanzas of 'C. W. D.,' in a late issue, would not
+be _original_ in our pages; nor could we hope to have many _new_ readers
+for them, after they have appeared in, and of course been copied from,
+that exceedingly pleasant and well-edited daily journal, the _Boston
+Evening Transcript_. . . . HAUFFMAN, the German poet, was recently expelled
+from the Prussian dominions, and all his works proscribed thenceforth. 'Served
+him right;' for in one of his works appears the 'word following, to wit:'
+'_Sleuerverweigerungsverfassungsmassigberechtig_!'--meaning a man who is
+exempt by the constitution from the payment of taxes. 'Myscheeves thick'
+must needs follow such terrific words. 'We have heard,' says a London
+critic, in allusion to this jaw-breaker, 'of a gentleman, a member of the
+_Marionettenschauspielhausengesellschaft_, who was said to be an excellent
+performer on the '_Constantinopolitanischetudelsackpfeife_!'' . . . We owe
+a word of apology to our friends the publishers, for the omission of
+notices which we had prepared of their publications, and which are crowded
+out by our title-page and index, that were forgotten until the last
+moment. We shall 'bring up arrears' in our next.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly
+Magazine, June 1844, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KNICKERBOCKER ***
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