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diff --git a/40147-8.txt b/40147-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index ed9b401..0000000 --- a/40147-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,14692 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. VI, -November 1850, Vol. I, 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: Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. VI, November 1850, Vol. I - -Author: Various - -Release Date: July 6, 2012 [EBook #40147] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S *** - - - - -Produced by Judith Wirawan, David Kline, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - -HARPER'S - -NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. - -NO. VI.--NOVEMBER, 1850.--VOL. I. - - - - -A PILGRIMAGE TO THE CRADLE OF AMERICAN LIBERTY. - -WITH PEN AND PENCIL. - -BY BENSON J. LOSSING.[1] - - - "How suddenly that straight and glittering shaft - Shot thwart the earth! in crown of living fire - Up comes the day! As if they conscious quaff'd - The sunny flood, hill, forest, city spire - Laugh in the waking light." - - RICHARD H. DANA. - -[Illustration: I]t was a glorious October morning, mild and brilliant, -when I left Boston to visit Concord and Lexington. A gentle land-breeze -during the night had borne the clouds back to their ocean birth-place, -and not a trace of the storm was left except in the saturated earth. -Health returned with the clear sky, and I felt a rejuvenescence in every -vein and muscle when, at dawn, I strolled over the natural glory of -Boston, its broad and beautifully-arbored Common. I breakfasted at six, -and at half-past seven left the station of the Fitchburg rail-way for -Concord, seventeen miles northwest of Boston. The country through which -the road passed is rough and broken, but thickly settled. I arrived at -the Concord station, about half a mile from the centre of the village, -before nine o'clock, and procuring a conveyance, and an intelligent -young man for a guide, proceeded at once to visit the localities of -interest in the vicinity. We rode to the residence of Major James -Barrett, a surviving grandson of Colonel Barrett, about two miles north -of the village, and near the residence of his venerated ancestor. Major -Barrett was eighty-seven years of age when I visited him; and his wife, -with whom he had lived nearly sixty years, was eighty. Like most of the -few survivors of the Revolution, they were remarkable for their mental -and bodily vigor. Both, I believe, still live. The old lady--a small, -well-formed woman--was as sprightly as a girl of twenty, and moved about -the house with the nimbleness of foot of a matron in the prime of life. -I was charmed with her vivacity, and the sunny radiance which it seemed -to shed throughout her household; and the half hour that I passed with -that venerable couple is a green spot in the memory. - -Major Barrett was a lad of fourteen when the British incursion into -Concord took place. He was too young to bear a musket, but, with every -lad and woman in the vicinity, he labored in concealing the stores and -in making cartridges for those who went out to fight. With oxen and a -cart, himself, and others about his age, removed the stores deposited at -the house of his grandfather, into the woods, and concealed them, a -cart-load in a place, under pine boughs. In such haste were they obliged -to act on the approach of the British from Lexington, that, when the -cart was loaded, lads would march on each side of the oxen and goad them -into a trot. Thus all the stores were effectually concealed, except some -carriage-wheels. Perceiving the enemy near, these were cut up and -burned; so that Parsons found nothing of value to destroy or carry away. - -[Illustration: MONUMENT AT CONCORD.] - -From Major Barrett's we rode to the monument erected at the site of the -old North Bridge, where the skirmish took place. The road crosses the -Concord River a little above the site of the North Bridge. The monument -stands a few rods westward of the road leading to the village, and not -far from the house of the Reverend Dr. Ripley, who gave the ground for -the purpose. The monument is constructed of granite from Carlisle, and -has an inscription upon a marble tablet inserted in the eastern face of -the pedestal.[2] The view is from the green shaded lane which leads from -the highway to the monument, looking westward. The two trees standing, -one upon each side, without the iron railing, were saplings at the time -of the battle; between them was the entrance to the bridge. The monument -is reared upon a mound of earth a few yards from the left bank of the -river. A little to the left, two rough, uninscribed stones from the -field mark the graves of the two British soldiers who were killed and -buried upon the spot. - -We returned to the village at about noon, and started immediately for -Lexington, six miles eastward. - -Concord is a pleasant little village, including within its borders about -one hundred dwellings. It lies upon the Concord River, one of the chief -tributaries of the Merrimac, near the junction of the Assabeth and -Sudbury Rivers. Its Indian name was Musketaquid. On account of the -peaceable manner in which it was obtained, by purchase, of the -aborigines, in 1635, it was named Concord. At the north end of the broad -street, or common, is the house of Col. Daniel Shattuck, a part of -which, built in 1774, was used as one of the depositories of stores when -the British invasion took place. It has been so much altered, that a -view of it would have but little interest as representing a relic of the -past. - -The road between Concord and Lexington passes through a hilly but -fertile country. It is easy for the traveler to conceive how terribly a -retreating army might be galled by the fire of a concealed enemy. Hills -and hillocks, some wooded, some bare, rise up every where, and formed -natural breast-works of protection to the skirmishers that hung upon the -flank and rear of Colonel Smith's troops. The road enters Lexington at -the green whereon the old meeting-house stood when the battle occurred. -The town is upon a fine rolling plain, and is becoming almost a suburban -residence for citizens of Boston. Workmen were inclosing the Green, and -laying out the grounds in handsome plats around the monument, which -stands a few yards from the street. It is upon a spacious mound; its -material is granite, and it has a marble tablet on the south front of -the pedestal, with a long inscription.[3] The design of the monument is -not at all graceful, and, being surrounded by tall trees, it has a very -"dumpy" appearance. The people are dissatisfied with it, and doubtless, -ere long, a more noble structure will mark the spot where the curtain of -the revolutionary drama was first lifted. - -[Illustration: MONUMENT AT LEXINGTON.[4]] - -[Illustration: NEAR VIEW OF THE MONUMENT.] - -After making the drawings here given, I visited and made the sketch of -"Clark's House." There I found a remarkably intelligent old lady, Mrs. -Margaret Chandler, aged eighty-three years. She has been an occupant of -the house, I believe, ever since the Revolution, and has a perfect -recollection of the events of the period. Her version of the escape of -Hancock and Adams is a little different from the published accounts. She -says that on the evening of the 18th of April, 1775, some British -officers, who had been informed where these patriots were, came to -Lexington, and inquired of a woman whom they met, for "Mr. Clark's -house." She pointed to the parsonage; but in a moment, suspecting their -design, she called to them and inquired if it was Clark's _tavern_ that -they were in search of. Uninformed whether it was a _tavern_ or a -_parsonage_ where their intended victims were staying, and supposing the -former to be the most likely place, the officers replied, "Yes, Clark's -tavern." "Oh," she said, "Clark's tavern is in that direction," pointing -toward East Lexington. As soon as they departed, the woman hastened to -inform the patriots of their danger, and they immediately arose and fled -to Woburn. Dorothy Quincy, the intended wife of Hancock, who was at Mr. -Clark's, accompanied them in their flight. - -I next called upon the venerable Abijah Harrington, who was living in -the village. He was a lad of fourteen at the time of the engagement. Two -of his brothers were among the minute men, but escaped unhurt. Jonathan -and Caleb Harrington, near relatives, were killed. The former was shot -in front of his own house, while his wife stood at the window in an -agony of alarm. She saw her husband fall, and then start up, the blood -gushing from his breast. He stretched out his arms toward her, and then -fell again. Upon his hands and knees he crawled toward his dwelling, and -expired just as his wife reached him. Caleb Harrington was shot while -running from the meeting-house. My informant saw almost the whole of the -battle, having been sent by his mother to go near enough, and be safe, -to obtain and convey to her information respecting her other sons, who -were with the minute men. His relation of the incidents of the morning -was substantially such as history has recorded. He dwelt upon the -subject with apparent delight, for his memory of the scenes of his early -years, around which cluster so much of patriotism and glory, was clear -and full. I would gladly have listened until twilight to the voice of -such experience, but time was precious, and I hastened to East -Lexington, to visit his cousin, Jonathan Harrington, an old man of -ninety, who played the fife when the minute men were marshaled on the -Green upon that memorable April morning. He was splitting fire-wood in -his yard with a vigorous hand when I rode up; and as he sat in his -rocking-chair, while I sketched his placid features, he appeared no -older than a man of seventy. His brother, aged eighty-eight, came in -before my sketch was finished, and I could not but gaze with wonder upon -these strong old men, children of one mother, who were almost grown to -manhood when the first battle of our Revolution occurred! Frugality and -temperance, co-operating with industry, a cheerful temper, and a good -constitution, have lengthened their days, and made their protracted -years hopeful and happy.[5] The aged fifer apologized for the rough -appearance of his signature, which he kindly wrote for me, and charged -the tremulous motion of his hand to his labor with the ax. How -tenaciously we cling even to the appearance of vigor, when the whole -frame is tottering to its fall! Mr. Harrington opened the ball of the -Revolution with the shrill war-notes of the fife, and then retired from -the arena. He was not a soldier in the war, nor has his life, passed in -the quietude of rural pursuits, been distinguished except by the -glorious acts which constitute the sum of the achievements of a GOOD -CITIZEN. - -[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF JONATHAN HARRINGTON.] - -I left Lexington at about three o'clock, and arrived at Cambridge at -half past four. It was a lovely autumnal afternoon. The trees and fields -were still green, for the frost had not yet been busy with their foliage -and blades. The road is Macadamized the whole distance; and so thickly -is it lined with houses, that the village of East Lexington and Old -Cambridge seem to embrace each other in close union. - -Cambridge is an old town, the first settlement there having been planted -in 1631, contemporaneous with that of Boston. It was the original -intention of the settlers to make it the metropolis of Massachusetts, -and Governor Winthrop commenced the erection of his dwelling there. It -was called New Town, and in 1632 was palisaded. The Reverend Mr. Hooker, -one of the earliest settlers of Connecticut, was the first minister in -Cambridge. In 1636, the General Court provided for the erection of a -public school in New Town, and appropriated two thousand dollars for -that purpose. In 1638, the Reverend John Harvard, of Charlestown, -endowed the school with about four thousand dollars. This endowment -enabled them to exalt the academy into a college, and it was called -Harvard University in honor of its principal benefactor. - -Cambridge has the distinction of being the place where the first -printing-press in America was established. Its proprietor was named Day, -and the capital that purchased the materials was furnished by the Rev. -Mr. Glover. The first thing printed was the "Freeman's Oath," in 1636; -the next was an almanac; and the next the Psalms, in metre.[6] Old -Cambridge (West Cambridge, or Metonomy, of the Revolution), the seat of -the University, is three miles from West Boston Bridge, which connects -Cambridge with Boston. Cambridgeport is about half way between Old -Cambridge and the bridge, and East Cambridge occupies Lechmere's Point, -a promontory fortified during the siege of Boston in 1775. - -Arrived at Old Cambridge, I parted company with the vehicle and driver -that conveyed me from Concord to Lexington, and hither; and, as the day -was fast declining, I hastened to sketch the head-quarters of -Washington, an elegant and spacious edifice, standing in the midst of -shrubbery and stately elms, a little distance from the street, once the -highway from Harvard University to Waltham. At this mansion, and at -Winter Hill, Washington passed most of his time, after taking command of -the Continental army, until the evacuation of Boston in the following -spring. Its present owner is HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW, Professor of -Oriental languages in Harvard University, and widely known in the world -of literature as one of the most gifted men of the age. It is a spot -worthy of the residence of an American bard so endowed, for the -associations which hallow it are linked with the noblest themes that -ever awakened the inspiration of a child of song. - - "When the hours of Day are number'd - And the voices of the Night - Wake the better soul that slumber'd - To a holy, calm delight, - Ere the evening lamps are lighted, - And, like phantoms grim and tall, - Shadows from the fitful fire-light - Dance upon the parlor wall," - -then to the thoughtful dweller must come the spirit of the place and -hour to weave a gorgeous tapestry, rich with pictures, illustrative of -the heroic age of our young republic. My tarry was brief and busy, for -the sun was rapidly descending--it even touched the forest tops before I -finished the drawing--but the cordial reception and polite attentions -which I received from the proprietor, and his warm approval of, and -expressed interest for the success of my labors, occupy a space in -memory like that of a long, bright summer day. - -[Illustration: WASHINGTON'S HEAD-QUARTERS AT CAMBRIDGE.] - -This mansion stands upon the upper of two terraces, which are ascended -each by five stone steps. At each front corner of the house is a lofty -elm--mere saplings when Washington beheld them, but now stately and -patriarchal in appearance. Other elms, with flowers and shrubbery, -beautify the grounds around it; while within, iconoclastic innovation -has not been allowed to enter with its mallet and trowel, to mar the -work of the ancient builder, and to cover with the vulgar stucco of -modern art the carved cornices and paneled wainscots that first enriched -it. I might give a long list of eminent persons whose former presence in -those spacious rooms adds interest to retrospection, but they are -elsewhere identified with scenes more personal and important. I can not -refrain, however, from noticing the visit of one, who, though a dark -child of Africa and a bond-woman, received the most polite attention -from the commander-in-chief. This was PHILLIS, a slave of Mr. Wheatley, -of Boston. She was brought from Africa when between seven and eight -years old. She seemed to acquire knowledge intuitively; became a poet of -considerable merit, and corresponded with such eminent persons as the -Countess of Huntingdon, Earl of Dartmouth, Reverend George Whitefield, -and others. Washington invited her to visit him at Cambridge, which she -did a few days before the British evacuated Boston; her master among -others, having left the city by permission, and retired, with his -family, to Chelsea. She passed half an hour with the commander-in-chief, -from whom and his officers she received marked attention.[7] - -A few rods above the residence of Professor Longfellow is the house in -which the Brunswick general, the Baron Riedesel, and his family were -quartered, during the stay of the captive army of Burgoyne in the -vicinity of Boston. I was not aware when I visited Cambridge, that the -old mansion was still in existence; but, through the kindness of Mr. -Longfellow, I am able to present the features of its southern front, -with a description. In style it is very much like that of Washington's -head-quarters, and the general appearance of the grounds around is -similar. It is shaded by noble linden-trees, and adorned with shrubbery, -presenting to the eye all the attractions noticed by the Baroness of -Riedesel in her charming letters.[8] Upon a window-pane on the north -side of the house may be seen the undoubted autograph of that -accomplished woman, inscribed with a diamond point. It is an interesting -memento, and is preserved with great care. The annexed is a facsimile of -it. - -[Illustration: THE RIEDESEL HOUSE, CAMBRIDGE.[9]] - -[Illustration: AUTOGRAPH OF THE BARONESS RIEDESEL.] - -During the first moments of the soft evening twilight I sketched the -"Washington elm," one of the ancient _anakim_ of the primeval forest, -older, probably, by a half century or more, than the welcome of Samoset -to the white settlers. It stands upon Washington-street, near the -westerly corner of the Common, and is distinguished by the circumstance -that, beneath its broad shadow, General Washington first drew his sword -as commander-in-chief of the Continental army, on the 3d of July, 1775. -Thin lines of clouds, glowing in the light of the setting sun like bars -of gold, streaked the western sky, and so prolonged the twilight by -reflection, that I had ample time to finish my drawing before the night -shadows dimmed the paper. - -Early on the following morning I procured a chaise to visit Charlestown -and Dorchester Heights. I rode first to the former place, and climbed to -the summit of the great obelisk that stands upon the site of the redoubt -upon Breed's Hill. As I ascended the steps which lead from the street to -the smooth gravel-walks upon the eminence whereon the "Bunker Hill -Monument" stands, I experienced a feeling of disappointment and regret, -not easily to be expressed. Before me was the great memento, huge and -grand--all that patriotic reverence could wish--but the ditch scooped -out by Prescott's toilers on that starry night in June, and the mounds -that were upheaved to protect them from the shots of the astonished -Britons, were effaced, and no more vestiges remain of the handiwork of -those in whose honor and to whose memory this obelisk was raised, than -of Roman conquests in the shadow of Trajan's column--of the naval -battles of Nelson around his monument in Trafalgar-square, or of French -victories in the Place Vendôme. The fosse and the breast-works were all -quite prominent when the foundation-stone of the monument was laid, and -a little care, directed by good taste, might have preserved them in -their interesting state of half ruin until the passage of the present -century, or, at least, until the sublime centenary of the battle should -be celebrated. Could the visitor look upon the works of the patriots -themselves, associations a hundred-fold more interesting would crowd the -mind, for wonderfully suggestive of thought are the slightest relics of -the past when linked with noble deeds. A soft green sward, as even as -the rind of a fair apple, and cut by eight straight gravel-walks, -diverging from the monument, is substituted by art for the venerated -irregularities made by the old mattock and spade. The spot is beautiful -to the eye untrained by appreciating affection for hallowed things; -nevertheless, there is palpable desecration that may hardly be -forgiven. - -[Illustration: BUNKER HILL MONUMENT.[10]] - -The view from the top of the monument, for extent, variety, and beauty, -is certainly one of the finest in the world. A "York shilling" is -charged for the privilege of ascending the monument. The view from its -summit is "a shilling show" worth a thousand miles of travel to see. -Boston, its harbor, and the beautiful country around, mottled with -villages, are spread out like a vast painting, and on every side the eye -may rest upon localities of great historical interest, Cambridge, -Roxbury, Chelsea, Quincy, Medford, Marblehead, Dorchester, and other -places, where - - "The old Continentals, - In their ragged regimentals, - Falter'd not," - -and the numerous sites of small fortifications which the student of -history can readily call to mind. In the far distance, on the northwest, -rise the higher peaks of the White Mountains of New Hampshire; and on -the northeast, the peninsula of Nahant, and the more remote Cape Anne -may be seen. Wonders which present science and enterprise are developing -and forming are there exhibited in profusion. At one glance from this -lofty observatory may be seen seven railroads,[11] and many other -avenues connecting the city with the country; and ships from almost -every region of the globe dot the waters of the harbor. Could a tenant -of the old grave-yard on Copp's Hill, who lived a hundred years ago, -when the village upon Tri-mountain was fitting out its little armed -flotillas against the French in Acadia, or sending forth its few vessels -of trade along the neighboring coasts, or occasionally to cross the -Atlantic, come forth and stand beside us a moment, what a new and -wonderful world would be presented to his vision! A hundred years ago! - - "Who peopled all the city streets - A hundred years ago? - Who fill'd the church with faces meek - A hundred years ago?" - -They were men wise in their generation, but ignorant in practical -knowledge when compared with the present. In their wildest dreams, -incited by tales of wonder that spiced the literature of their times, -they never fancied any thing half so wonderful as our mighty dray-horse, - - "The black steam-engine! steed of iron power-- - The wond'rous steed of the Arabian tale, - Lanch'd on its course by pressure of a touch-- - The war-horse of the Bible, with its neck - Grim, clothed with thunder, swallowing the way - In fierceness of its speed, and shouting out, - 'Ha! ha!'[12] A little water, and a grasp - Of wood, sufficient for its nerves of steel, - Shooting away, 'Ha! ha!' it shouts, as on - It gallops, dragging in its tireless path - Its load of fire." - -I lingered in the chamber of the Bunker Hill monument as long as time -would allow, and descending, rode back to the city, crossed to South -Boston, and rambled for an hour among the remains of the fortifications -upon the heights of the peninsula of Dorchester. The present prominent -remains of fortifications are those of intrenchments cast up during the -war of 1812, and have no other connection with our subject than the -circumstance that they occupy the site of the works constructed there by -order of Washington. These were greatly reduced in altitude when the -engineers began the erection of the forts now in ruins, which are -properly preserved with a great deal of care. They occupy the summits of -two hills, which command Boston Neck on the left, the city of Boston in -front, and the harbor on the right. Southeast from the heights, -pleasantly situated among gentle hills, is the village of Dorchester, so -called in memory of a place in England of the same name, whence many of -its earliest settlers came. The stirring events which rendered -Dorchester Heights famous are universally known. - -I returned to Boston at about one o'clock, and passed the remainder of -the day in visiting places of interest within the city--the old South -meeting-house, Faneuil Hall, the Province House, and the Hancock House. -I am indebted to John Hancock, Esq., nephew of the patriot, and present -proprietor and occupant of the "Hancock House," on Beacon-street, for -polite attentions while visiting his interesting mansion, and for -information concerning matters that have passed under the eye of his -experience of threescore years. He has many mementoes of his eminent -kinsman, and among them a beautifully-executed miniature of him, painted -in London, in 1761, while he was there at the coronation of George III. - -Near Mr. Hancock's residence is the State House, a noble structure upon -Beacon Hill, the corner-stone of which was laid in 1795, by Governor -Samuel Adams, assisted by Paul Revere, master of the Masonic grand -lodge. There I sketched the annexed picture of the colossal statue of -Washington, by Chantrey, which stands in the open centre of the first -story; also the group of trophies from Bennington, that hang over the -door of the Senate chamber. Under these trophies, in a gilt frame, is a -copy of the reply of the Massachusetts Assembly to General Stark's -letter, that accompanied the presentation of the trophies. It was -written fifty years ago. - -[Illustration: WASHINGTON.[13]] - -After enjoying the view from the top of the State House a while, I -walked to Copp's Hill, a little east of Charlestown Bridge, at the north -end of the town, where I tarried until sunset in the ancient -burying-ground. The earliest name of this eminence was Snow Hill. It was -subsequently named after its owner, William Copp.[14] It came into the -possession of the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company by mortgage; -and when, in 1775, they were forbidden by Gage to parade on the Common, -they went to this, their own ground, and drilled in defiance of his -threats. The fort, or battery, that was built there by the British, just -before the battle of Bunker Hill, stood near its southeast brow, -adjoining the burying-ground. The remains of many eminent men repose in -that little cemetery. Close by the entrance is the vault of the Mather -family. It is covered by a plain, oblong structure of brick, three feet -high and about six feet long, upon which is laid a heavy brown stone -slab, with a tablet of slate, bearing the names of the principal tenants -below.[15] - -[Illustration: MATHER'S VAULT.] - -I passed the forenoon of the next day in the rooms of the Massachusetts -Historical Society, where every facility was afforded me by Mr. Felt, -the librarian, for examining the assemblage of things curious collected -there.[16] The printed books and manuscripts, relating principally to -American history, are numerous, rare, and valuable. - -There is also a rich depository of the autographs of the Pilgrim fathers -and their immediate descendants. There are no less than twenty-five -large folio volumes of valuable manuscript letters and other documents; -besides which are six thick quarto manuscript volumes--a commentary on -the Holy Scriptures--in the handwriting of Cotton Mather. From an -autograph letter of that singular man the annexed fac-simile of his -writing and signature is given. Among the portraits in the cabinet of -the society are those of Governor Winslow, supposed to have been painted -by Vandyke, Increase Mather, and Peter Faneuil, the founder of Faneuil -Hall. - -[Illustration: MATHER'S WRITING.] - -I had the pleasure of meeting, at the rooms of the society, that -indefatigable antiquary, Dr. Webb, widely known as the American -correspondent of the "Danish Society of Northern Antiquarians" at -Copenhagen. He was sitting in the chair that once belonged to Governor -Winthrop, writing upon the desk of the speaker of the Colonial Assembly -of Massachusetts, around which the warm debates were carried on -concerning American liberty, from the time when James Otis denounced the -Writs of Assistance, until Governor Gage adjourned the Assembly to -Salem, in 1774. Hallowed by such associations, the desk is an -interesting relic. Dr. Webb's familiarity with the collections of the -society, and his kind attentions, greatly facilitated my search among -the six thousand articles for things curious connected with my subject -and made my brief visit far more profitable to myself than it would -otherwise have been. Among the relics preserved are the chair that -belonged to Governor Carver; the sword of Miles Standish; the huge key -of Port Royal gate; a _samp-pan_, that belonged to Metacomet, or King -Philip; and the sword reputed to have been used by Captain Church when -he cut off that unfortunate sachem's head. The dish is about twelve -inches in diameter, wrought out of an elm knot with great skill. The -sword is very rude, and was doubtless made by a blacksmith of the -colony. The handle is a roughly-wrought piece of ash, and the guard is -made of a wrought-iron plate. - -[Illustration: SPEAKER'S DESK AND WINTHROP'S CHAIR.] - -[Illustration: PHILIP'S SAMP-PAN.] - -[Illustration: CHURCH'S SWORD.] - - - FOOTNOTES: - - [1] This sketch of Revolutionary scenes and incidents in and about - Boston, is part of an unpublished chapter from LOSSING'S - "Pictorial Field Book of the Revolution," now in course of - publication by Harper and Brothers. - - [2] The following is a copy of the inscription: - - HERE, - On the 19th of April, 1775, - was made the first forcible resistance to - BRITISH AGGRESSION. - On the opposite bank stood the American - militia, and on this spot the first of the enemy fell - in the WAR OF THE REVOLUTION, - which gave Independence to these United States. - In gratitude to God, and in the love of Freedom, - This Monument was erected, - A.D. 1836. - - [3] The following is a copy of the inscription: - - "Sacred to the Liberty and the Rights of Mankind!!! The Freedom - and Independence of America--sealed and defended with the blood of - her sons--This Monument is erected by the Inhabitants of - Lexington, under the patronage and at the expense of the - Commonwealth of Massachusetts, to the memory of their - Fellow-citizens, Ensign Robert Monroe, Messrs. Jonas Parker, - Samuel Hadley, Jonathan Harrington, jun., Isaac Muzzy, Caleb - Harrington, and John Brown, of Lexington, and Asahel Porter, of - Woburn, who fell on this Field, the first victims of the Sword of - British Tyranny and Oppression, on the morning of the - ever-memorable Nineteenth of April, An. Dom. 1775. The Die was - Cast!!! The blood of these Martyrs in the Cause of God and their - Country was the Cement of the Union of these States, then - Colonies, and gave the Spring to the Spirit, Firmness, and - Resolution of their Fellow-citizens. They rose as one man to - revenge their Brethren's blood, and at the point of the Sword to - assert and defend their native Rights. They nobly dared to be - Free!!! The contest was long, bloody, and affecting. Righteous - Heaven approved the Solemn Appeal; Victory crowned their Arms, and - the Peace, Liberty, and Independence of the United States of - America was their glorious Reward. Built in the year 1799." - - [4] This view is from the Concord Road, looking eastward, and - shows a portion of the inclosure of the Green. The distant - building seen on the right is the old "Buckman Tavern." It now - belongs to Mrs. Merriam, and exhibits many scars made by the - bullets on the morning of the skirmish. - - [5] The seventy-fifth anniversary of the battles of Lexington and - Concord was celebrated at the latter place on the 19th of April, - 1850. In the procession was a carriage containing these venerable - brothers, aged, respectively, nearly ninety-one and ninety-three; - Amos Baker, of Lincoln, aged ninety-four; Thomas Hill, of Danvers, - aged ninety-two; and Dr. Preston, of Billerica, aged eighty-eight. - The Honorable Edward Everett, among others, made a speech on the - occasion, in which he very happily remarked, that "it pleased his - heart to see those venerable men beside him; and he was very much - pleased to assist Mr. Jonathan Harrington to put on his top coat a - few minutes ago. In doing so, he was ready to say, with the - eminent man of old, 'Very pleasant art thou to me, my brother - Jonathan!'" - - [6] Records of Harvard College. - - [7] Phillis wrote a letter to General Washington in October, 1775, - in which she inclosed a poem eulogistic of his character. In - February following the general answered it. I give a copy of his - letter, in illustration of the excellence of the mind and heart of - that great man, always so kind and courteous to the most humble, - even when pressed with arduous public duties. - - "Cambridge, February 28, 1776. - - "MISS PHILLIS--Your favor of the 26th of October did not reach my - hands till the middle of December. Time enough, you will say, to - have given an answer ere this. Granted. But a variety of important - occurrences, continually interposing to distract the mind and - withdraw the attention, I hope will apologize for the delay, and - plead my excuse for the seeming but not real neglect. I thank you - most sincerely for your polite notice of me in the elegant lines - you inclosed; and however undeserving I may be of such encomium - and panegyric, the style and manner exhibit a striking proof of - your poetical talents; in honor of which, and as a tribute justly - due to you, I would have published the poem, had I not been - apprehensive that, while I only meant to give the world this new - instance of your genius, I might have incurred the imputation of - vanity. This, and nothing else, determined me not to give it a - place in the public prints. If you should ever come to Cambridge, - or near head-quarters, I shall be happy to see a person so favored - by the Muses, and to whom nature has been so liberal and - beneficent in her dispensations. I am, with great respect, your - obedient, humble servant, GEO. WASHINGTON." - - [8] She thus writes respecting her removal from a peasant's house - on Winter Hill to Cambridge, and her residence there: - - "We passed three weeks in this place, and were then transferred to - Cambridge, where we were lodged in one of the best houses of the - place, which belonged to Royalists. Seven families, who were - connected by relationship, or lived in great intimacy, had here - farms, gardens, and splendid mansions, and not far off, orchards, - and the buildings were at a quarter of a mile distant from each - other. The owners had been in the habit of assembling every - afternoon in one or another of these houses, and of diverting - themselves with music or dancing, and lived in affluence, in good - humor, and without care, until this unfortunate war at once - dispersed them, and transformed all their houses into solitary - abodes, except two, the proprietors of which were also soon - obliged to make their escape.... - - "On the 3d of June, 1778, I gave a ball and supper, in celebration - of my husband's birthday. I had invited all our generals and - officers and Mr. and Mrs. Carter. General Burgoyne sent us an - apology, after he had made us wait for him till eight o'clock. He - had always some excuse for not visiting us, until he was about - departing for England, when he came and made me many apologies, to - which I made no other reply than that I should be extremely sorry - if he had put himself to any inconvenience for our sake. The dance - lasted long, and we had an excellent supper, to which more than - eighty persons sat down. Our yard and garden were illuminated. The - king's birth-day falling on the next day, it was resolved that the - company should not separate before his Majesty's health was drank; - which was done, with feelings of the liveliest attachment to his - person and interests. Never, I believe, was 'God Save the King' - sung with more enthusiasm, or with feelings more sincere. Our two - eldest girls were brought into the room to see the illumination. - We were all deeply moved, and proud to have the courage to display - such sentiments in the midst of our enemies. Even Mr. Carter could - not forbear participating in our enthusiasm." Mr. Carter was the - son-in-law of General Schuyler. Remembering the kindness which she - had received from that gentleman while in Albany, the baroness - sought out Mr. and Mrs. Carter (who were living in Boston), on her - arrival at Cambridge. "Mrs. Carter," she says, "resembled her - parents in mildness and goodness of heart, but her husband was - revengeful and false." The patriotic zeal of Mr. Carter had given - rise to foolish stories respecting him. "They seemed to feel much - friendship for us," says Madame De Riedesel; "though, at the same - time, this wicked Mr. Carter, in consequence of General Howe's - having burned several villages and small towns, suggested to his - countrymen to cut off our generals' heads, to pickle them, and to - put them in small barrels, and, as often as the English should - again burn a village, to send them one of these barrels; but that - cruelty was not adopted."--_Letters and Memoire relating to the - War of American Independence, by Madame De Riedesel._ - - [9] This is from a pencil sketch by Mr. Longfellow. I am also - indebted to him for the fac-simile of the autograph of the - Baroness of Riedesel. It will be perceived that the _i_ is placed - before the _e_ in spelling the name. It is generally given with - the _e_ first, which is according to the orthography in Burgoyne's - _State of the Expedition_, &c., wherein I supposed it was spelled - correctly. This autograph shows it to be erroneous. - - [10] This monument stands in the centre of the grounds included - within the breast-works of the old redoubt on Breed's Hill. Its - sides are precisely parallel with those of the redoubt. It is - built of Quincy granite, and is two hundred and twenty-one feet in - height. The foundation is composed of six courses of stone, and - extends twelve feet below the surface of the ground and base of - the shaft. The four sides of the foundation extend about fifty - feet horizontally. There are in the whole pile ninety courses of - stone, six of them below the surface of the ground, and - eighty-four above. The foundation is laid in lime mortar; the - other parts of the structure in lime mortar mixed with cinders, - iron filings, and Springfield hydraulic cement. The base of the - obelisk is thirty feet square; at the spring of the apex, fifteen - feet. Inside of the shaft is a round, hollow cone, the outside - diameter of which, at the bottom, is ten feet, and at the top, six - feet. Around this inner shaft winds a spiral flight of stone - steps, two hundred and ninety-five in number. In both the cone and - shaft are numerous little apertures for the purposes of - ventilation and light. The observatory or chamber at the top of - the monument is seventeen feet in height and eleven feet in - diameter. It has four windows, one on each side, which are - provided with iron shutters. The cap-piece of the apex is a single - stone, three feet six inches in thickness and four feet square at - its base. It weighs two and a half tons. - - Almost fifty years had elapsed from the time of the battle before - a movement was made to erect a commemorative monument on Breed's - Hill. An association for the purpose was founded in 1824; and to - give eclat to the transaction, and to excite enthusiasm in favor - of the work, General La Fayette, then "the nation's guest," was - invited to lay the corner-stone. Accordingly, on the 17th of June, - 1825, the fiftieth anniversary of the battle, that revered patriot - performed the interesting ceremony, and the Honorable Daniel - Webster pronounced an oration on the occasion, in the midst of an - immense concourse of people. Forty survivors of the battle were - present; and on no occasion did La Fayette meet so many of his - fellow-soldiers in our Revolution as at that time. The _plan_ of - the monument was not then decided upon; but one by Solomon - Willard, of Boston, having been approved, the present structure - was commenced, in 1827, by James Savage, of the same city. In the - course of a little more than a year, the work was suspended on - account of a want of funds, about fifty-six thousand dollars - having then been collected and expended. The work was resumed in - 1834, and again suspended, within a year, for the same cause, - about twenty thousand dollars more having been expended. In 1840, - the ladies moved in the matter. A fair was announced to be held in - Boston, and every female in the United States was invited to - contribute some production of her own hands to the exhibition. The - fair was held at Faneuil Hall in September, 1840. The proceeds - amounted to sufficient, in connection with some private donations, - to complete the structure, and within a few weeks subsequently, a - contract was made with Mr. Savage to finish it for forty-three - thousand dollars. The last stone of the apex was raised at about - six o'clock on the morning of the 23d of July, 1842. Edward - Carnes, Jr., of Charlestown, accompanied its ascent, waving the - American flag as he went up, while the interesting event was - announced to the surrounding country by the roar of cannon. On the - 17th of June, 1843, the monument was dedicated, on which occasion - the Honorable Daniel Webster was again the orator, and vast was - the audience of citizens and military assembled there. The - President of the United States (Mr. Tyler), and his whole cabinet, - were present. - - In the top of the monument are two cannons, named, respectively, - "Hancock" and "Adams," which formerly belonged to the Ancient and - Honorable Artillery Company. The "Adams" was burst by them in - firing a salute. The following is the inscription upon the two - guns: - - "SACRED TO LIBERTY. - - "This is one of four cannons which constituted the whole train of - field artillery possessed by the British colonies of North America - at the commencement of the war, on the 19th of April, 1775. This - cannon and its fellow, belonging to a number of citizens of - Boston, were used in many engagements during the war. The other - two, the property of the government of Massachusetts, were taken - by the enemy. - - "By order of the United States in Congress assembled, May 19th, - 1788." - - [11] When I visited Boston, in 1848, it was estimated that two - hundred and thirty trains of cars went daily over the roads to and - from Boston, and that more than six millions of passengers were - conveyed in them during the preceding year. - - [12] Job, xxxix. 24, 25. - - [13] This is a picture of Chantrey's statue, which is made of - Italian marble, and cost fifteen thousand dollars. - - [14] On some old maps of Boston it is called _Corpse Hill_, the - name supposed to have been derived from the circumstance of a - burying-ground being there. - - [15] The following is the inscription upon the slate tablet: "The - Reverend Doctors Increase, Cotton, and Samuel Mather were interred - in this vault. - - INCREASE died August 27, 1723, Æ. 84. - COTTON " Feb. 13, 1727, " 65. - SAMUEL " Jan. 27, 1785, " 79." - - [16] This society was incorporated in February, 1794. The avowed - object of its organization is to collect, preserve, and - communicate materials for a complete history of this country, and - an account of all valuable efforts of human industry and ingenuity - from the beginning of its settlement. Between twenty and thirty - octavo volumes of its "Collections" have been published. - - - - -[From Dickens's Household Words.] - -FATE DAYS AND OTHER POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS. - - -It is a difficult puzzle to reconcile the existence of certain -superstitions that continue to have wide influence with the -enlightenment of the nineteenth century. When we have read glowing -paragraphs about the wonderful progress accomplished by the present -generation; when we have regarded the giant machinery in operation for -the culture of the people--moved, in great part, by the collective power -of individual charity; when we have examined the stupendous results of -human genius and ingenuity which are now laid bare to the lowliest in -the realm; we turn back, it must be confessed, with a mournful -despondency, to mark the debasing influence of the old superstitions -which have survived to the present time. - -The superstitions of the ancients formed part of their religion. They -consulted oracles as now men pray. The stars were the arbiters of their -fortunes. Natural phenomena, as lightning and hurricanes, were, to them, -awful expressions of the anger of their particular deities. They had -their _dies atri_ and _dies albi_; the former were marked down in their -calendars with a black character to denote ill-luck, and the latter were -painted in white characters to signify bright and propitious days. They -followed the finger posts of their teachers. Faith gave dignity to the -tenets of the star-gazer and fire-worshiper. - -The priests of old taught their disciples to regard six particular days -in the year as days fraught with unusual danger to mankind. Men were -enjoined not to let blood on these black days, nor to imbibe any liquid. -It was devoutly believed that he who ate goose on one of those black -days would surely die within forty more; and that any little stranger -who made his appearance on one of the _dies atri_ would surely die a -sinful and violent death. Men were further enjoined to let blood from -the right arm on the seventh or fourteenth of March; from the left arm -on the eleventh of April; and from either arm on the third or sixth of -May, that they might avoid pestilential diseases. These barbaric -observances, when brought before people in illustration of the mental -darkness of the ancients, are considered at once to be proof positive of -their abject condition. We thereupon congratulated ourselves upon living -in the nineteenth century; when such foolish superstitions are laughed -at; and perhaps our vanity is not a little flattered by the contrast -which presents itself, between our own highly cultivated condition, and -the wretched state of our ancestors. - -Yet Mrs. Flimmins will not undertake a sea-voyage on a Friday; nor would -she on any account allow her daughter Mary to be married on that day of -the week. She has great pity for the poor Red Indians who will not do -certain things while the moon presents a certain appearance, and who -attach all kinds of powers to poor dumb brutes; yet if her cat purrs -more than usual, she accepts the warning, and abandons the trip she had -promised herself on the morrow. - -Miss Nippers subscribes largely to the fund for eradicating -superstitions from the minds of the wretched inhabitants of Kamschatka; -and while she is calculating the advantages to be derived from a mission -to the South Sea Islands, to do away with the fearful superstitious -reverence in which these poor dear islanders hold their native flea: a -coal pops from her fire, and she at once augurs from its shape an -abundance of money, that will enable her to set her pious undertaking in -operation; but on no account will she commence collecting subscriptions -for the anti-drinking-slave-grown-sugar-in-tea society, because she has -always remarked that Monday is her unlucky day. On a Monday her poodle -died, and on a Monday she caught that severe cold at Brighton, from the -effects of which she is afraid she will never recover. - -Mrs. Carmine is a very strong-minded woman. Her unlucky day is -Wednesday. On a Wednesday she first caught that flush which she has -never been able to chase from her cheeks, and on one of these fatal days -her Maria took the scarlet fever. Therefore, she will not go to a -pic-nic on a Wednesday, because she feels convinced that the day will -turn out wet, or that the wheel will come off the carriage. Yet the -other morning, when a gipsy was caught telling her eldest daughter her -fortune, Mrs. Carmine very properly reproached the first-born for her -weakness, in giving any heed to the silly mumblings of the old woman. -Mrs. Carmine is considered to be a woman of uncommon acuteness. She -attaches no importance whatever to the star under which a child is -born--does not think there is a pin to choose between Jupiter and -Neptune; and she has a positive contempt for ghosts; but she believes in -nothing that is begun, continued, or ended on a Wednesday. - -Miss Crumple, on the contrary, has seen many ghosts, in fact, is by this -time quite intimate with one or two of the mysterious brotherhood; but -at the same time she is at a loss to understand how any woman in her -senses, can believe Thursday to be a more fortunate day than Wednesday, -or why Monday is to be black-balled from the Mrs. Jones's calendar. She -can state on her oath, that the ghost of her old schoolfellow, Eliza -Artichoke, appeared at her bedside on a certain night, and she -distinctly saw the mole on its left cheek, which poor Eliza, during her -brief career, had vainly endeavored to eradicate, with all sorts of -poisonous things. The ghost, moreover, lisped--so did Eliza! This was -all clear enough to Miss Crumple, and she considered it a personal -insult for any body to suggest that her vivid apparitions existed only -in her over-wrought imagination. She had an affection for her ghostly -visitors, and would not hear a word to their disparagement. - -The unearthly warnings which Mrs. Piptoss had received had well-nigh -spoiled all her furniture. When a relative dies, the fact is not -announced to her in the commonplace form of a letter; no, an invisible -sledge-hammer falls upon her Broadwood, an invisible power upsets her -loo-table, all the doors of her house unanimously blow open, or a coffin -flies out of the fire into her lap. - -Mrs. Grumple, who is a very economical housewife, looks forward to the -day when the moon re-appears, on which occasion she turns her money, -taking care not to look at the pale lady through glass. This observance, -she devoutly believes, will bring her good fortune. When Miss Caroline -has a knot in her lace, she looks for a present; and when Miss Amelia -snuffs the candle out, it is her faith that the act defers her marriage -a twelvemonth. Any young lady who dreams the same dream two consecutive -Fridays, will tell you that her visions will "come true." - -Yet these are exactly the ladies, who most deplore the "gross state of -superstition" in which many "benighted savages" live, and willingly -subscribe their money for its eradication. The superstition so generally -connected with Friday, may easily be traced to its source. It -undoubtedly and confessedly has its origin in scriptural history: it is -the day on which the Saviour suffered. The superstition is the more -revolting from this circumstance; and it is painful to find that it -exists among persons of education. There is no branch of the public -service, for instance, in which so much sound mathematical knowledge is -to be found, as in the Navy. Yet who are more superstitious than -sailors, from the admiral down to the cabin boy? Friday fatality is -still strong among them. Some years ago, in order to lessen this folly, -it was determined that a ship should be laid down on a Friday, and -launched on a Friday; that she should be called "Friday," and that she -should commence her first voyage on a Friday. After much difficulty a -captain was found who owned to the name of Friday; and after a great -deal more difficulty men were obtained, so little superstitious, as to -form a crew. Unhappily, this experiment had the effect of confirming the -superstition it was meant to abolish. The "Friday" was lost--was never, -in fact, heard of from the day she set sail. - -Day-fatality, as Miss Nippers interprets it, is simply the expression of -an undisciplined and extremely weak mind; for, if any person will stoop -to reason with her on her aversion to Mondays, he may ask her whether -the death of the poodle, or the catching of her cold, are the two -greatest calamities of her life; and, if so, whether it is her opinion -that Monday is set apart, in the scheme of Nature, so far as it concerns -her, in a black character. Whether for her insignificant self there is a -special day accursed! Mrs. Carmine is such a strong-minded woman, that -we approach her with no small degree of trepidation. Wednesday is her -_dies ater_, because, in the first place, on a Wednesday she imprudently -exposed herself, and is suffering from the consequences; and, in the -second place, on a Wednesday her Maria took the scarlet fever. So she -has marked Wednesday down in her calendar with a black character; yet -her contempt for stars and ghosts is prodigious. Now there is a -consideration to be extended to the friends of ghosts, which -Day-fatalists can not claim. Whether or not deceased friends take a more -airy and flimsy form, and adopt the invariable costume of a sheet to -visit the objects of their earthly affections, is a question which the -shrewdest thinkers and the profoundest logicians have debated very -keenly, but without ever arriving at any satisfactory conclusion. - -The strongest argument against the positive existence of ghosts, is, -that they appear only to people of a certain temperament, and under -certain exciting circumstances. The obtuse, matter-of-fact man, never -sees a ghost; and we may take it as a natural law, that none of these -airy visitants ever appeared to an attorney. But the attorney, Mr. Fee -Simple, we are assured, holds Saturday to be an unlucky day. It was on a -Saturday that his extortionate bill in poor Mr. G.'s case, was cut down -by the taxing master; and it was on a Saturday that a certain heavy bill -was duly honored, upon which he had hoped to reap a large sum in the -shape of costs. Therefore Mr. Fee Simple believes that the destinies -have put a black mark against Saturday, so far as he is concerned. - -The Jew who thought that the thunder-storm was the consequence of his -having eaten a slice of bacon, did not present a more ludicrous picture, -than Mr. Fee Simple presents with his condemned Saturday. - -We have an esteem for ghost-inspectors, which it is utterly impossible -to extend to Day-fatalists. Mrs. Piptoss, too, may be pitied; but Mog, -turning her money when the moon makes her re-appearance, is an object of -ridicule. We shall neither be astonished, nor express condolence, if the -present, which Miss Caroline anticipates from the knot in her lace, be -not forthcoming; and as for Miss Amelia, who has extinguished the -candle, and to the best of her belief lost her husband for a -twelvemonth, we can only wish for her, that when she is married, her -lord and master will shake her faith in the prophetic power of snuffers. -But of all the superstitions that have survived to the present time, and -are to be found in force among people of education and a thoughtful -habit, Day-fatalism is the most general, as it is the most unfounded and -preposterous. It is a superstition, however, in which many great and -powerful thinkers have shared, and by which they have been guided; it -owes much of its present influence to this fact; but reason, -Christianity, and all we have comprehended of the great scheme of which -we form part, alike tend to demonstrate its absurdity, and utter want of -all foundation. - - - - -"BATTLE WITH LIFE!" - - Bear thee up bravely, - Strong heart and true! - Meet thy woes gravely, - Strive with them too! - Let them not win from thee - Tear of regret. - Such were a sin from thee, - Hope for good yet! - - Rouse thee from drooping, - Care-laden soul; - Mournfully stooping - 'Neath griefs control! - Far o'er the gloom that lies, - Shrouding the earth, - Light from eternal skies - Shows us thy worth. - - Nerve thee yet stronger, - Resolute mind! - Let care no longer - Heavily bind. - Rise on thy eagle wings - Gloriously free! - Till from material things - Pure thou shalt be! - - Bear ye up bravely, - Soul and mind too! - Droop not so gravely, - Bold heart and true! - Clear rays of streaming light - Shine through the gloom, - God's love is beaming bright - E'en round the tomb! - - - - -TRIAL AND EXECUTION OF MADAME ROLAND. - -BY REV. JOHN S.C. ABBOTT.[17] - - -[Illustration: MADAME ROLAND.] - -The Girondists were led from their dungeons in the Conciergerie to their -execution on the 31st of October, 1793. Upon that very day Madame Roland -was conveyed from the prison of St. Pélagié to the same gloomy cells -vacated by the death of her friends. She was cast into a bare and -miserable dungeon, in that subterranean receptacle of woe, where there -was not even a bed. Another prisoner, moved with compassion, drew his -own pallet into her cell, that she might not be compelled to throw -herself for repose upon the cold, wet stones. The chill air of winter -had now come, and yet no covering was allowed her. Through the long -night she shivered with the cold. - -The prison of the Conciergerie consists of a series of dark and damp -subterranean vaults, situated beneath the floor of the Palace of -Justice. Imagination can conceive of nothing more dismal than these -sombre caverns, with long and winding galleries opening into cells as -dark as the tomb. You descend by a flight of massive stone steps into -this sepulchral abode, and, passing through double doors, whose iron -strength time has deformed but not weakened, you enter upon the vast -labyrinthine prison, where the imagination wanders affrighted through -intricate mazes of halls, and arches, and vaults, and dungeons, rendered -only more appalling by the dim light which struggles through those -grated orifices which pierced the massive walls. The Seine flows by upon -one side, separated only by the high way of the quays. The bed of the -Seine is above the floor of the prison. The surrounding earth was -consequently saturated with water, and the oozing moisture diffused -over the walls and the floors the humidity of the sepulchre. The plash -of the river; the rumbling of carts upon the pavements overhead; the -heavy tramp of countless footfalls, as the multitude poured into and out -of the halls of justice, mingled with the moaning of the prisoners in -those solitary cells. There were one or two narrow courts scattered in -this vast structure, where the prisoners could look up the precipitous -walls, as of a well, towering high above them, and see a few square -yards of sky. The gigantic quadrangular tower, reared above these firm -foundations, was formerly the imperial palace from which issued all -power and law. Here the French kings reveled in voluptuousness, with -their prisoners groaning beneath their feet. This strong-hold of -feudalism had now become the tomb of the monarchy. In one of the most -loathsome of these cells, Maria Antoinette, the daughter of the Cæsars, -had languished in misery as profound as mortals can suffer, till, in the -endurance of every conceivable insult, she was dragged to the -guillotine. - -It was into a cell adjoining that which the hapless queen had occupied -that Madame Roland was cast. Here the proud daughter of the emperors of -Austria and the humble child of the artisan, each, after a career of -unexampled vicissitudes, found their paths to meet but a few steps from -the scaffold. The victim of the monarchy and the victim of the -Revolution were conducted to the same dungeons and perished on the same -block. They met as antagonists in the stormy arena of the French -Revolution. They were nearly of equal age. The one possessed the -prestige of wealth, and rank, and ancestral power; the other, the energy -of vigorous and cultivated mind. Both were endowed with unusual -attractions of person, spirits invigorated by enthusiasm, and the -loftiest heroism. From the antagonism of life they met in death. - -The day after Madame Roland was placed in the Conciergerie, she was -visited by one of the notorious officers of the revolutionary party, and -very closely questioned concerning the friendship she had entertained -for the Girondists. She frankly avowed the elevated affection and esteem -with which she cherished their memory, but she declared that she and -they were the cordial friends of republican liberty; that they wished to -preserve, not to destroy, the Constitution. The examination was -vexatious and intolerant in the extreme. It lasted for three hours, and -consisted in an incessant torrent of criminations, to which she was -hardly permitted to offer one word in reply. This examination taught her -the nature of the accusations which would be brought against her. She -sat down in her cell that very night, and, with a rapid pen, sketched -that defense which has been pronounced one of the most eloquent and -touching monuments of the Revolution. - -Having concluded it, she retired to rest, and slept with the serenity -of a child. She was called upon several times by committees sent from -the revolutionary tribunal for examination. They were resolved to take -her life, but were anxious to do it, if possible, under the forms of -law. She passed through all their examinations with the most perfect -composure, and the most dignified self-possession. Her enemies could not -withhold their expressions of admiration as they saw her in her -sepulchral cell of stone and of iron, cheerful, fascinating, and -perfectly at ease. She knew that she was to be led from that cell to a -violent death, and yet no faltering of soul could be detected. Her -spirit had apparently achieved a perfect victory over all earthly ills. - -The upper part of the door of her cell was an iron grating. The -surrounding cells were filled with the most illustrious ladies and -gentlemen of France. As the hour of death drew near, her courage and -animation seemed to increase. Her features glowed with enthusiasm; her -thoughts and expressions were refulgent with sublimity, and her whole -aspect assumed the impress of one appointed to fill some great and lofty -destiny. She remained but a few days in the Conciergerie before she was -led to the scaffold. During those few days, by her example and her -encouraging words, she spread among the numerous prisoners there an -enthusiasm and a spirit of heroism which elevated, above the fear of the -scaffold, even the most timid and depressed. This glow of feeling and -exhilaration gave a new impress of sweetness and fascination to her -beauty. The length of her captivity, the calmness with which she -contemplated the certain approach of death, gave to her voice that depth -of tone and slight tremulousness of utterance which sent her eloquent -words home with thrilling power to every heart. Those who were walking -in the corridor, or who were the occupants of adjoining cells, often -called for her to speak to them words of encouragement and consolation. - -Standing upon a stool at the door of her own cell, she grasped with her -hands the iron grating which separated her from her audience. This was -her tribune. The melodious accents of her voice floated along the -labyrinthine avenues of those dismal dungeons, penetrating cell after -cell, and arousing energy in hearts which had been abandoned to despair. -It was, indeed, a strange scene which was thus witnessed in these -sepulchral caverns. The silence, as of the grave, reigned there, while -the clear and musical tones of Madame Roland, as of an angel of -consolation, vibrated through the rusty bars, and along the dark, damp -cloisters. One who was at that time an inmate of the prison, and -survived those dreadful scenes, has described, in glowing terms, the -almost miraculous effects of her soul-moving eloquence. She was already -past the prime of life, but she was still fascinating. Combined with the -most wonderful power of expression, she possessed a voice so exquisitely -musical, that, long after her lips were silenced in death, its tones -vibrated in lingering strains in the souls of those by whom they had -ever been heard. The prisoners listened with the most profound attention -to her glowing words, and regarded her almost as a celestial spirit, who -had come to animate them to heroic deeds. She often spoke of the -Girondists who had already perished upon the guillotine. With perfect -fearlessness she avowed her friendship for them, and ever spoke of them -as _our friends_. She, however, was careful never to utter a word which -would bring tears into the eye. She wished to avoid herself all the -weakness of tender emotions, and to lure the thoughts of her companions -away from every contemplation which could enervate their energies. - -Occasionally, in the solitude of her cell, as the image of her husband -and of her child rose before her, and her imagination dwelt upon her -desolated home and her blighted hopes--her husband denounced and pursued -by lawless violence, and her child soon to be an orphan--woman's -tenderness would triumph over the heroine's stoicism. Burying, for a -moment, her face in her hands, she would burst into a flood of tears. -Immediately struggling to regain composure, she would brush her tears -away, and dress her countenance in its accustomed smiles. She remained -in the Conciergerie but one week, and during that time so endeared -herself to all as to become the prominent object of attention and love. -Her case is one of the most extraordinary the history of the world has -presented, in which the very highest degree of heroism is combined with -the most resistless charms of feminine loveliness. An unfeminine woman -can never be _loved_ by men. She may be respected for her talents, she -may be honored for her philanthropy, but she can not win the warmer -emotions of the heart. But Madame Roland, with an energy of will, an -inflexibility of purpose, a firmness of stoical endurance which no -mortal man has ever exceeded, combined that gentleness, and tenderness, -and affection--that instinctive sense of the proprieties of her -sex--which gathered around her a love as pure and as enthusiastic as -woman ever excited. And while her friends, many of whom were the most -illustrious men in France, had enthroned her as an idol in their hearts, -the breath of slander never ventured to intimate that she was guilty -even of an impropriety. - -The day before her trial, her advocate, Chauveau de la Garde, visited -her to consult respecting her defense. She, well aware that no one could -speak a word in her favor but at the peril of his own life, and also -fully conscious that her doom was already sealed, drew a ring from her -finger, and said to him, - -"To-morrow, I shall be no more. I know the fate which awaits me. Your -kind assistance can not avail aught for me, and would but endanger you. -I pray you, therefore, not to come to the tribunal, but to accept of -this last testimony of my regard." - -The next day she was led to her trial. She attired herself in a white -robe, as a symbol of her innocence, and her long dark hair fell in thick -curls on her neck and shoulders. She emerged from her dungeon the vision -of unusual loveliness. The prisoners who were walking in the corridors -gathered around her, and with smiles and words of encouragement she -infused energy into their hearts. Calm and invincible she met her -judges. She was accused of the crimes of being the wife of M. Roland and -the friend of his friends. Proudly she acknowledged herself guilty of -both those charges. Whenever she attempted to utter a word in her -defense, she was brow-beaten by the judges, and silenced by the clamors -of the mob which filled the tribunal. The mob now ruled with undisputed -sway in both legislative and executive halls. The serenity of her eye -was untroubled, and the composure of her disciplined spirit unmoved, -save by the exaltation of enthusiasm, as she noted the progress of the -trial, which was bearing her rapidly and resistlessly to the scaffold. -It was, however, difficult to bring any accusation against her by which, -under the form of law, she could be condemned. France, even in its -darkest hour, was rather ashamed to behead a woman, upon whom the eyes -of all Europe were fixed, simply for being the _wife of her husband and -the friend of his friends_. At last the president demanded of her that -she should reveal her husband's asylum. She proudly replied, - -"I do not know of any law by which I can be obliged to violate the -strongest feelings of nature." - -This was sufficient, and she was immediately condemned. Her sentence was -thus expressed: - -"The public accuser has drawn up the present indictment against Jane -Mary Phlippon, the wife of Roland, late Minister of the Interior, for -having wickedly and designedly aided and assisted in the conspiracy -which existed against the unity and indivisibility of the Republic, -against the liberty and safety of the French people, by assembling at -her house, in secret council, the principal chiefs of that conspiracy, -and by keeping up a correspondence tending to facilitate their -treasonable designs. The tribunal having heard the public accuser -deliver his reasons concerning the application of the law, condemns Jane -Mary Phlippon, wife of Roland, to the punishment of death." - -She listened calmly to her sentence, and then rising, bowed with dignity -to her judges, and, smiling, said, - -"I thank you, gentlemen, for thinking me worthy of sharing the fate of -the great men whom you have assassinated. I shall endeavor to imitate -their firmness on the scaffold." - -With the buoyant step of a child, and with a rapidity which almost -betokened joy, she passed beneath the narrow portal, and descended to -her cell, from which she was to be led, with the morning light, to a -bloody death. The prisoners had assembled to greet her on her return, -and anxiously gathered around her. She looked upon them with a smile of -perfect tranquillity, and, drawing her hand across her neck, made a sign -expressive of her doom. But a few hours elapsed between her sentence and -her execution. She retired to her cell, wrote a few words of parting to -her friends, played upon a harp, which had found its way into the -prison, her requiem, in tones so wild and mournful, that, floating in -the dark hours of the night, through these sepulchral caverns, they fell -like unearthly music upon the despairing souls there incarcerated. - -The morning of the 10th of November, 1793, dawned gloomily upon Paris. -It was one of the darkest days of that reign of terror which, for so -long a period enveloped France in its sombre shades. The ponderous gates -of the court-yard of the Conciergerie opened that morning to a long -procession of carts loaded with victims for the guillotine. Madame -Roland had contemplated her fate too long, and had disciplined her -spirit too severely, to fail of fortitude in this last hour of trial. -She came from her cell scrupulously attired for the bridal of death. A -serene smile was upon her cheek, and the glow of joyous animation -lighted up her features as she waved an adieu to the weeping prisoners -who gathered around her. The last cart was assigned to Madame Roland. -She entered it with a step as light and elastic as if it were a carriage -for a pleasant morning's drive. By her side stood an infirm old man, M. -La Marche. He was pale and trembling, and his fainting heart, in view of -the approaching terror, almost ceased to beat. She sustained him by her -arm, and addressed to him words of consolation and encouragement in -cheerful accents and with a benignant smile. The poor old man felt that -God had sent an angel to strengthen him in the dark hour of death. As -the cart heavily rumbled along the pavement, drawing nearer and nearer -to the guillotine, two or three times, by her cheerful words, she even -caused a smile faintly to play upon his pallid lips. - -The guillotine was now the principal instrument of amusement for the -populace of Paris. It was so elevated that all could have a good view of -the spectacle it presented. To witness the conduct of nobles and of -ladies, of boys and of girls, while passing through the horrors of a -sanguinary death, was far more exciting than the unreal and bombastic -tragedies of the theatre, or the conflicts of the cock-pit and the bear -garden. A countless throng flooded the streets; men, women, and -children, shouting, laughing, execrating. The celebrity of Madame -Roland, her extraordinary grace and beauty, and her aspect, not only of -heroic fearlessness, but of joyous exhilaration, made her the prominent -object of the public gaze. A white robe gracefully enveloped her perfect -form, and her black and glossy hair, which for some reason the -executioners had neglected to cut, fell in rich profusion to her waist. -A keen November blast swept the streets, under the influence of which, -and the excitement of the scene, her animated countenance glowed with -all the ruddy bloom of youth. She stood firmly in the cart, looking with -a serene eye upon the crowds which lined the streets, and listening with -unruffled serenity to the clamor which filled the air. A large crowd -surrounded the cart in which Madame Roland stood, shouting, "To the -guillotine! to the guillotine!" She looked kindly upon them, and, -bending over the railing of the cart, said to them, in tones as placid -as if she were addressing her own child, "My friends, I _am_ going to -the guillotine. In a few moments I shall be there. They who send me -thither will ere long follow me. I go innocent. They will come stained -with blood. You who now applaud our execution will then applaud theirs -with equal zeal." - -Madame Roland had continued writing her memoirs until the hour in which -she left her cell for the scaffold. When the cart had almost arrived at -the foot of the guillotine, her spirit was so deeply moved by the tragic -scene--such emotions came rushing in upon her soul from departing time -and opening eternity, that she could not repress the desire to pen down -her glowing thoughts. She entreated an officer to furnish her for a -moment with pen and paper. The request was refused. It is much to be -regretted that we are thus deprived of that unwritten chapter of her -life. It can not be doubted that the words she would then have written -would have long vibrated upon the ear of a listening world. -Soul-utterances will force their way over mountains, and valleys, and -oceans. Despotism can not arrest them. Time can not enfeeble them. - -The long procession arrived at the guillotine, and the bloody work -commenced. The victims were dragged from the carts, and the ax rose and -fell with unceasing rapidity. Head after head fell into the basket, and -the pile of bleeding trunks rapidly increased in size. The executioners -approached the cart where Madame Roland stood by the side of her -fainting companion. With an animated countenance and a cheerful smile, -she was all engrossed in endeavoring to infuse fortitude into his soul. -The executioner grasped her by the arm. "Stay," said she, slightly -resisting his grasp; "I have one favor to ask, and that is not for -myself. I beseech you grant it me." Then turning to the old man, she -said, "Do you precede me to the scaffold. To see my blood flow would -make you suffer the bitterness of death twice over. I must spare you the -pain of witnessing my execution." The stern officer gave a surly -refusal, replying, "My orders are to take you first." With that winning -smile and that fascinating grace which were almost resistless, she -rejoined, "You can not, surely, refuse a woman her last request." The -hard-hearted executor of the law was brought within the influence of her -enchantment. He paused, looked at her for a moment in slight -bewilderment, and yielded. The poor old man, more dead than alive, was -conducted upon the scaffold and placed beneath the fatal ax. Madame -Roland, without the slightest change of color, or the apparent tremor of -a nerve, saw the ponderous instrument, with its glittering edge, glide -upon its deadly mission, and the decapitated trunk of her friend was -thrown aside to give place for her. With a placid countenance and a -buoyant step, she ascended the platform. The guillotine was erected upon -the vacant spot between the gardens of the Tuileries and the Elysian -Fields, then known as the Place de la Revolution. This spot is now -called the Place de la Concorde. It is unsurpassed by any other place in -Europe. Two marble fountains now embellish the spot. The blood-stained -guillotine, from which crimson rivulets were ever flowing, then occupied -the space upon which one of these fountains has been erected; and a clay -statue to Liberty reared its hypocritical front where the Egyptian -obelisk now rises. Madame Roland stood for a moment upon the elevated -platform, looked calmly around upon the vast concourse, and then bowing -before the colossal statue, exclaimed, "O Liberty! Liberty! how many -crimes are committed in thy name." She surrendered herself to the -executioner, and was bound to the plank. The plank fell to its -horizontal position, bringing her head under the fatal ax. The -glittering steel glided through the groove, and the head of Madame -Roland was severed from her body. - -Thus died Madame Roland, in the thirty-ninth year of her age. Her death -oppressed all who had known her with the deepest grief. Her intimate -friend Buzot, who was then a fugitive, on hearing the tidings, was -thrown into a state of perfect delirium, from which he did not recover -for many days. Her faithful female servant was so overwhelmed with -grief, that she presented herself before the tribunal, and implored them -to let her die upon the same scaffold where her beloved mistress had -perished. The tribunal, amazed at such transports of attachment, -declared that she was mad, and ordered her to be removed from their -presence. A man-servant made the same application, and was sent to the -guillotine. - -The grief of M. Roland, when apprized of the event, was unbounded. For a -time he entirely lost his senses. Life to him was no longer endurable. -He knew not of any consolations of religion. Philosophy could only nerve -him to stoicism. Privately he left, by night, the kind friends who had -hospitably concealed him for six months, and wandered to such a distance -from his asylum as to secure his protectors from any danger on his -account. Through the long hours of the winter's night he continued his -dreary walk, till the first gray of the morning appeared in the east. -Drawing a long stilletto from the inside of his walking-stick, he placed -the head of it against the trunk of a tree, and threw himself upon the -sharp weapon. The point pierced his heart, and he fell lifeless upon -the frozen ground. Some peasants passing by discovered his body. A piece -of paper was pinned to the breast of his coat, upon which there were -written these words: "Whoever thou art that findest these remains, -respect them as those of a virtuous man. After hearing of my wife's -death, I would not stay another day in a world so stained with crime." - - - FOOTNOTE: - - [17] From ABBOTT'S "History of Madame Roland," soon to be issued - from the press of Harper & Brothers. - - - - -[From Dickens's Household Words.] - -CHEMICAL CONTRADICTIONS. - - -Science, whose aim and end is to prove the harmony and "eternal fitness -of things," also proves that we live in a world of paradoxes; and that -existence itself is a whirl of contradictions. Light and darkness, truth -and falsehood, virtue and vice, the negative and positive poles of -galvanic or magnetic mysteries, are evidences of all-pervading -antitheses, which, acting like the good and evil genii of Persian -Mythology, neutralize each other's powers when they come into collision. -It is the office of science to solve these mysteries. The appropriate -symbol of the lecture-room is a Sphinx; for a scientific lecturer is but -a better sort of unraveler of riddles. - -Who would suppose, for instance, that water--which every body knows, -extinguishes fire--may, under certain circumstances, add fuel to flame, -so that the "coming man," who is to "set the Thames on fire," may not be -far off. If we take some mystical gray-looking globules of potassium -(which is the metallic basis of common pearl-ash) and lay them upon -water, the water will instantly appear to ignite. The globules will swim -about in flames, reminding us of the "death-fires" described by the -Ancient Mariner, burning "like witches' oil" on the surface of the -stagnant sea. Sometimes even, without any chemical ingredient being -added, fire will appear to spring spontaneously from water; which is not -a simple element, as Thales imagined, when he speculated upon the origin -of the Creation, but two invisible gases--oxygen and hydrogen, -chemically combined. During the electrical changes of the atmosphere in -a thunder-storm, these gases frequently combine with explosive violence, -and it is this combination which takes place when "the big rain comes -dancing to the earth." These fire-and-water phenomena are thus accounted -for; certain substances have peculiar affinities or attractions for one -another; the potassium has so inordinate a desire for oxygen, that the -moment it touches, it decomposes the water, abstracts all the oxygen, -and sets free the hydrogen or inflammable gas. The potassium, when -combined with the oxygen, forms that corrosive substance known as -caustic potash, and the heat, disengaged during this process, ignites -the hydrogen. Here the mystery ends; and the contradictions are solved; -Oxygen and hydrogen when combined, become water; when separated the -hydrogen gas burns with a pale, lambent flame. Many of Nature's most -delicate deceptions are accounted for by a knowledge of these laws. - -Your analytical chemist sadly annihilates, with his scientific -machinations, all poetry. He bottles up at pleasure the Nine Muses, and -proves them--as the fisherman in the Arabian Nights did the Afrite--to -be all smoke. Even the Will-o'-the-Wisp can not flit across its own -morass without being pursued, overtaken, and burnt out by this -scientific detective policeman. He claps an extinguisher upon -Jack-o'-Lantern thus: He says that a certain combination of phosphorus -and hydrogen, which rises from watery marshes, produces a gas called -phosphureted hydrogen, which ignites spontaneously the moment it bubbles -up to the surface of the water and meets with atmospheric air. Here -again the Ithuriel wand of science dispels all delusion, pointing out to -us, that in such places animal and vegetable substances are undergoing -constant decomposition; and as phosphorus exists under a variety of -forms in these bodies, as phosphate of lime, phosphate of soda, -phosphate of magnesia, &c., and as furthermore the decomposition of -water itself is the initiatory process in these changes, so we find that -phosphorus and hydrogen are supplied from these sources; and we may -therefore easily conceive the consequent formation of phosphureted -hydrogen. This gas rises in a thin stream from its watery bed, and the -moment it comes in contact with the oxygen of the atmosphere, it bursts -into a flame so buoyant, that it flickers with every breath of air, and -realizes the description of Goethe's Mephistopheles, that the course of -Jack-o'-Lantern is generally "zig-zag." - -Who would suppose that absolute darkness may be derived from two rays of -light! Yet such is the fact. If two rays proceed from two luminous -points very close to each other, and are so directed as to cross at a -given point on a sheet of white paper in a dark room, their united light -will be twice as bright as either ray singly would produce. But if the -difference in the distance of the two points be diminished only -one-half, the one light will extinguish the other, and produce absolute -darkness. The same curious result may be produced by viewing the flame -of a candle through two very fine slits near to each other in a card. -So, likewise, strange as it may appear, if two musical strings be so -made to vibrate, in a certain succession of degrees, as for the one to -gain half a vibration on the other, the two resulting sounds will -antagonize each other and produce an interval of perfect silence. How -are these mysteries to be explained? The Delphic Oracle of science must -again be consulted, and among the high priests who officiate at the -shrine, no one possesses more recondite knowledge, or can recall it more -instructively than Sir David Brewster. "The explanation which -philosophers have given," he observes, "of these remarkable phenomena, -is very satisfactory, and may easily be understood. When a wave is made -on the surface of a still pool of water by plunging a stone into it, the -wave advances along the surface, while the water itself is never carried -forward, but merely rises into a height and falls into a hollow, each -portion of the surface experiencing an elevation and a depression in its -turn. If we suppose two waves equal and similar, to be produced by two -separate stones, and if they reach the same spot at the same time, that -is, if the two elevations should exactly coincide, they would unite -their effects, and produce a wave twice the size of either; but if the -one wave should be put so far before the other, that the hollow of the -one coincided with the elevation of the other, and the elevation of the -one with the hollow of the other, the two waves would obliterate or -destroy one another; the elevation, as it were, of the one filling up -half the hollow of the other, and the hollow of the one taking away half -the elevation of the other, so us to reduce the surface to a level. -These effects may be exhibited by throwing two equal stones into a pool -of water; and also may be observed in the Port of Batsha, where the two -waves arriving by channels of different lengths actually obliterate each -other. Now, as light is supposed to be produced by waves or undulations -of an ethereal medium filling all nature, and occupying the pores of the -transparent bodies; and as sound is produced by undulations or waves in -the air: so the successive production of light and darkness by two -bright lights, and the production of sound and silence by two loud -sounds, may be explained in the very same manner as we have explained -the increase and obliteration of waves formed on the surface of water." - -The apparent contradictions in chemistry are, indeed, best exhibited in -the lecture-room, where they may be rendered visible and tangible, and -brought home to the general comprehension. The Professor of Analytical -Chemistry, J.H. Pepper, who demonstrates these things in the Royal -Polytechnic Institution, is an expert manipulator in such mysteries; -and, taking a leaf out of his own magic-book, we shall conjure him up -before us, standing behind his own laboratory, surrounded with all the -implements of his art. At our recent visit to this exhibition we -witnessed him perform, with much address, the following experiments: He -placed before us a pair of tall glass vessels, each filled, apparently, -with water; he then took two hen's eggs, one of these he dropped into -one of the glass vessels, and, as might have been expected, it -immediately sank to the bottom. He then took the other egg, and dropped -it into the other vessel of water, but, instead of sinking as the other -had done, it descended only half way, and there remained suspended in -the midst of the transparent fluid. This, indeed, looked like magic--one -of Houdin's sleight-of-hand performances--for what could interrupt its -progress? The water surrounding it appeared as pure below as around and -above the egg, yet there it still hung like Mahomet's coffin, between -heaven and earth, contrary to all the well-established laws of gravity. -The problem, however, was easily solved. Our modern Cagliostro had -dissolved in one half of the water in this vessel as much common salt as -it would take up, whereby the density of the fluid was so much augmented -that it opposed a resistance to the descent of the egg after it had -passed through the unadulterated water, which he had carefully poured -upon the briny solution, the transparency of which, remaining -unimpaired, did not for a moment suggest the suspicion of any such -impregnation. The good housewife, upon the same principle, uses an egg -to test the strength of her brine for pickling. - -Every one has heard of the power which bleaching gas (chlorine) -possesses in taking away color, so that a red rose held over its fumes -will become white. The lecturer, referring to this fact, exhibited two -pieces of paper; upon one was inscribed, in large letters, the word -"PROTEUS;" upon the other no writing was visible; although he assured us -the same word was there inscribed. He now dipped both pieces of paper in -a solution of bleaching-powder, when the word "Proteus" disappeared from -the paper upon which it was before visible; while the same word -instantly came out, sharp and distinct, upon the paper which was -previously a blank. Here there appeared another contradiction: the -chlorine in the one case obliterating, and in the other reviving the -written word; and how was this mystery explained? Easily enough! Our -ingenious philosopher, it seems, had used indigo in penning the one word -which had disappeared; and had inscribed the other with a solution of a -chemical substance, iodide of potassium and starch; and the action which -took place was simply this: the chlorine of the bleaching solution set -free the iodine from the potassium, which immediately combined with the -starch, and gave color to the letters which were before invisible. -Again--a sheet of white paper was exhibited, which displayed a broad and -brilliant stripe of scarlet--(produced by a compound called the -bin-iodide of mercury)--when exposed to a slight heat the color changed -immediately to a bright yellow, and, when this yellow stripe was crushed -by smartly rubbing the paper, the scarlet color was restored, with all -its former brilliancy. This change of color was effected entirely by the -alteration which the heat, in the one case, and the friction, in the -other, produced in the particles which reflected these different colors; -and, upon the same principle, we may understand the change of the color -in the lobster-shell, which turns from black to red in boiling; because -the action of the heat produces a new arrangement in the particles which -compose the shell. - -With the assistance of water and fire, which have befriended the -magicians of every age, contradictions of a more marvelous character may -be exhibited, and even the secret art revealed of handling red-hot -metals, and passing through the fiery ordeal. If we take a platinum -ladle, and hold it over a furnace until it becomes of a bright red heat, -and then project cold water into its bowl, we shall find that the water -will remain quiescent and give no sign of ebullition--not so much as a -single "fizz;" but, the moment the ladle begins to cool, it will boil up -and quickly evaporate. So also, if a mass of metal, heated to whiteness, -be plunged in a vessel of cold water, the surrounding fluid will remain -tranquil so long as the glowing white heat continues; but, the moment -the temperature falls, the water will boil briskly. Again--if water be -poured upon an iron sieve, the wires of which are made red hot, it will -not run through; but, on the sieve cooling, it will run through rapidly. -These contradictory effects are easily accounted for. The repelling -power of intense heat keeps the water from immediate contact with the -heated metal, and the particles of the water, collectively, retain their -globular form; but, when the vessel cools, the repulsive power -diminishes, and the water coming into closer contact with the heated -surface its particles can no longer retain their globular form, and -eventually expand into a state of vapor. This globular condition of the -particles of water will account for many very important phenomena; -perhaps it is best exhibited in the dew-drop, and so long as these -globules retain their form, water will retain its fluid properties. An -agglomeration of these globules will carry with them, under certain -circumstances, so much force that it is hardly a contradiction to call -water itself a solid. The water-hammer, as it is termed, illustrates -this apparent contradiction. If we introduce a certain quantity of water -into a long glass tube, when it is shaken, we shall hear the ordinary -splashing noise as in a bottle; but, if we exhaust the air, and again -shake the tube, we shall hear a loud ringing sound, as if the bottom of -the tube were struck by some hard substance--like metal or wood--which -may fearfully remind us of the blows which a ship's side will receive -from the waves during a storm at sea, which will often carry away her -bulwarks. - -It is now time to turn to something stronger than water for more -instances of chemical contradictions. The chemical action of certain -poisons (the most powerful of all agents), upon the human frame, has -plunged the faculty into a maze of paradoxes; indeed, there is actually -a system of medicine, advancing in reputation, which is founded on the -principle of contraries. The famous Dr. Hahnemann, who was born at -Massieu in Saxony, was the founder of it, and, strange to say, medical -men, who are notorious for entertaining contrary opinions, have not yet -agreed among themselves whether he was a very great quack or a very -great philosopher. Be this as it may, the founder of this system, which -is called HOMOEOPATHY, when translating an article upon bark in Dr. -Cullen's Materia Medica, took some of this medicine, which had for many -years been justly celebrated for the cure of ague. He had not long taken -it, when he found himself attacked with aguish symptoms, and a light now -dawned upon his mind, and led him to the inference that medicines which -give rise to the symptoms of a disease, are those which will -specifically cure it, and however curious it may appear, several -illustrations in confirmation of this principle were speedily found. If -a limb be frost-bitten, we are directed to rub it with snow; if the -constitution of a man be impaired by the abuse of spirituous liquors, -and he be reduced to that miserable state of enervation when the limbs -tremble and totter, and the mind itself sinks into a state of low -muttering delirium, the physician to cure him must go again to the -bottle and administer stimulants and opiates. - -It was an old Hippocratic aphorism that two diseases can not co-exist in -the same body, wherefore, gout has actually been cured by the afflicted -person going into a fenny country and catching the ague. The fatality of -consumption is also said to be retarded by a common catarrh; and upon -this very principle depends the truth of the old saying, that rickety -doors hang long on rusty hinges. In other words, the strength of the -constitution being impaired by one disease has less power to support the -morbid action of another. - -We thus live in a world of apparent contradictions; they abound in every -department of science, and beset us even in the sanctuary of domestic -life. The progress of discovery has reconciled and explained the nature -of some of them; but many baffle our ingenuity, and still remain -involved in mystery. This much, however, is certain, that the most -opposed and conflicting elements so combine together as to produce -results, which are strictly in unison with the order and harmony of the -universe. - - - - -DESCENT INTO THE CRATER OF A VOLCANO.[18] - -BY REV. H.T. CHEEVER. - - -A descent into the Crater of the Volcano of Kilauea in the Sandwich -Islands, may be accomplished with tolerable ease by the north-eastern -cliff of the crater, where the side has fallen in and slidden downward, -leaving a number of huge, outjutting rocks, like giants' -stepping-stones, or the courses of the pyramid of Ghizeh. - -By hanging to these, and the mere aid of a pole, you may descend the -first precipice to where the avalanche brought up and was stayed--a wild -region, broken into abrupt hills and deep glens, thickly set with shrubs -and old ohias, and producing in great abundance the Hawaiian -whortleberry (formerly sacred to the goddess of the volcano), and a -beautiful lustrous blackberry that grows on a branching vine close to -the ground. Thousands of birds find there a safe and warm retreat; and -they will continue, I suppose, the innocent warblers, to pair and sing -there, till the fires from beneath, having once more eaten through its -foundations, the entire tract, with all its miniature mountains and -woody glens, shall slide off suddenly into the abyss below to feed the -hunger of all-devouring fire. - -No one who passes over it, and looks back upon the tall, jagged cliffs -at the rear and side, can doubt that it was severed and shattered by one -such ruin into its present forms. And the bottomless pits and yawning -caverns, in some places ejecting hot steam, with which it is traversed, -prove that the raging element which once sapped its foundations is still -busy beneath. - -The path that winds over and down through this tract, crossing some of -these unsightly seams by a natural bridge of only a foot's breadth, is -safe enough by daylight, if one will keep in it. But be careful that you -do not diverge far on either side, or let the shades of night overtake -you there, lest a single mis-step in the grass and ferns, concealing -some horrible hole, or an accidental stumble, shall plunge you beyond -the reach of sunlight into a covered pen-stock of mineral fire, or into -the heart of some deep, sunken cavern. - -One can hardly wander through that place alone, even in the daytime (as -I was in coming up from the crater at evening), without having his fancy -swarm with forms of evil. In spite of himself, there will - - "Throng thick into his mind the busy shapes - Of cover'd pits, unfathomably deep, - A dire descent! of precipices huge-- - Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death." - -The way through this tract descends not abruptly for about half a mile, -to a steep bank of partially decomposed lava, somewhat furrowed by -water-courses, by which you go down some hundreds of feet more to what -every body calls the Black Ledge. - -This is an immense rampart or gallery of grisly black scoria and lava, -about half a mile wide, running all round the pit, slightly sloping -inward, and not unfrequently overflowed in eruptions. By it you learn -the dimensions of the great lake to which this is now the shore. It may -be compared to the wide beach of an ocean, seldom flooded all over -except in very high tides; or to a great field of thick shore ice, from -under which the tide has retired, leaving it cracked and rent, but not -so as to break up the general evenness of its surface. - -The upper crust is generally glossy, cellular, and cinder-like, brittle -and crackling under the feet; but directly underneath the superficies, -hard and compact, as proved by inspecting the great seams and fissures, -from some of which flickering currents of hot air, and from others -scalding steam and smoke are continually issuing. Pound on it, and you -will hear deep, hollow reverberations, and sometimes your pole will -break through a place like the rotten trap-door of some old ruin, and -open upon you a hideous black hole without bottom. - -Over this great volcanic mole or offset, we proceeded to make our way -toward the caldron in the southeast, pounding before us with our pole, -like men crossing a river to find whether the ice ahead will bear them. -We stopped every now and then to examine and get up on to some great -cone or oven, which had been formed after the congelation of the crust, -by pent up gas blowing out from beneath the cooling lava, raising it as -in great bubbles, and letting its black, viscous vomit dribble from the -top, and flow down sluggishly and congeal before it had found a level, -like ice in very cold weather over a waterfall. Thus it would flow over -the Black Ledge, hardening sometimes in round streams like a cable, or -in serpentine forms like a great anaconda; and again it would spread out -from the foot of the cone a little way, in forms like a bronze lion's -foot. - -The surface was frequently broken, or ready to break, with the weight of -one's body, from the fiery liquid having subsided after the petrifaction -of the crust. Generally, too, the hardened lava seemed to have been -flowed over, like ice near the shore when the tide rises and goes down, -with a thin scum of lava that became shelly and crepitated under the -foot like shelly ice. - -Then, as we went further into the bed of the crater, gradually going -down, we would come to places where, like as in frozen mill-ponds, -whence the water has been drawn off, the congealed lava had broken in to -the depth sometimes of fifty and one hundred feet. Every where, too, -there were great fissures and cracks, as in fields of river ice, now and -then a large air-hole, and here and there great bulges and breaks, and -places from which a thin flame would be curling, or over which you would -see a glimmer like that which trembles over a body of fresh coals or a -recently-burned lime-kiln. Touch your stick there, and it would -immediately kindle. - -There were also deep, wide ditches, through which a stream of liquid -lava had flowed since the petrifaction of the main body through which it -passed. Cascades of fire are said to be often seen in the course of -these canals or rivers as they leap some precipice, presenting in the -night a scene of unequaled splendor and sublimity. In some places the -banks or dikes of these rivers are excavated and fallen in with hideous -crash and ruin; and often you may go up, if you dare, to the edge on one -side and look over into the gulf, and away under the opposite -overhanging bank, where the igneous fluid has worn away and scooped it -out till the cliff hangs on air, and seems to topple and lean, like the -tower of Pisa, just ready to fall. - -It would be no very comfortable reflection, if a man were not too -curiously eager and bold and intent upon the novelties he is drinking in -by the senses, to have much reflection or fear at such a time, to think -how easily an earthquake might tumble down the bank on which he is -standing, undermined in like manner with that which you are looking at -right opposite. - -On our left, as we passed on to the Great Caldron, we explored, as far -as was possible between the heat and vapor, the great bank, or, more -properly, mountain-side of sulphur and sulphate of lime (plaster of -Paris), and obtained some specimens of no little beauty. There are -cliffs of sulphur through which scalding hot vapor is escaping as high -up above you as eight hundred feet; and lower down there are seams from -which lambent and flickering flames are darting, and jets of hot air -will sometimes whirl by you, involving no little danger by their -inhalation. Around these fissures are yellow and green incrustations of -sulphur, which afford a new variety of specimens. - -When we had got to the leeward of the caldron, we found large quantities -of the finest threads of metallic vitrified lava, like the spears and -filaments of sealing-wax, called Pele's hair. The wind has caught them -from the jets and bubbling springs of gory lava, and carried them away -on its wings till they have lodged in nests and crevices, where they may -be collected like shed wool about the time of sheep-shearing. Sometimes -this is found twenty miles to the leeward of the volcano. - -The heat and sulphur gas, irritating the throat and lungs, are so great -on that side, that we had to sheer away off from the brim of the -caldron, and could not observe close at hand the part where there was -the most gushing and bubbling of the ignifluous mineral fluid. But we -passed round to the windward, and were thus enabled to get up to the -brim so as to look over for a minute in the molten lake, burning -incessantly with brimstone and fire-- - - "A furnace formidable, deep, and wide, - O'erboiling with a mad, sulphureous tide." - -But the lava which forms your precarious foothold, melted, perhaps, a -hundred times, can not be handled or trusted, and the heat even there is -so great as to burn the skin of one's face, although the heated air, as -it rises, is instantly swept off to the leeward by the wind. It is -always hazardous, not to say fool-hardy, to stand there for a moment, -lest your uncertain foothold, crumbling and crispy by the action of -fire, shall suddenly give way and throw you instantly into the fiery -embrace of death. - -At times, too, the caldron is so furiously boiling, and splashing, and -spitting its fires, and casting up its salient, angry jets of melted -lava and spume, that all approach to it is forbidden. We slumped several -times near it, as a man will in the spring who is walking over a river -of which the ice is beginning to thaw, and the upper stratum, made of -frozen snow, is dissolved and rotten. A wary native who accompanied us -wondered at our daring, and would not be kept once from pulling me back, -as with the eager and bold curiosity of a discoverer, all absorbed in -the view of such exciting wonders, I was getting too near. - -At the time we viewed it, the brim all round was covered with splashes -and spray to the width of ten or twelve feet. The surface of the lake -was about a mile in its longest diameter, at a depth of thirty or forty -feet from its brim, and agitated more or less all over, in some places -throwing up great jets and spouts of fiery red lava, in other places -spitting it out like steam from an escape-pipe when the valves are half -lifted, and again squirting the molten rock as from a pop-gun. - -The surface was like a river or lake when the ice is _going out_ and -broken up into cakes, over which you will sometimes see the water -running, and sometimes it will be quite hidden. In the same manner in -this lake of fire, while its surface was generally covered with a crust -of half-congealed, dusky lava, and raised into elevations, or sunk into -depressions, you would now and then see the live coal-red stream running -along. Two cakes of lava, also, would meet like cakes of ice, and their -edges crushing, would pile up and fall over, precisely like the -phenomena of moving fields of ice; there was, too, the same rustling, -grinding noise. - -Sometimes, I am told, the roar of the fiery surges is like the heavy -beating of surf. Once, when Mr. Coan visited it, this caldron was heaped -up in the middle, higher above its brim than his head, so that he ran up -and thrust in a pyrometer, while streams were running off on different -sides. At another time when he saw it, it had sunk four or five hundred -feet below its brim, and he had to look down a dreadful gulf to see its -fires. - -Again, when Mr. Bingham was there, it was full, and concentric waves -were flowing out and around from its centre. Having carefully observed -its movements a while, he threw a stick of wood upon the thin crust of a -moving wave where he thought it would bear him, even if it should bend a -little, and then stood upon it a few moments. In that position, -thrusting his cane down through the cooling tough crust, about half an -inch thick, and immediately withdrawing it, forthwith there gushed up, -like ooze in a marsh or melted tar under a plank, enough of the viscid -lava to form a globular mass, which afterward, as it cooled, he broke -off and bore away. - -It is not easy for one that has not himself been in a similar position, -to sympathize with and pardon the traveler at such a point, for he is -unwilling to forbear and leave it till fairly surfeited and seared with -heat and admiration, or driven off by some sudden spout and roar, or -splash of the caldron. You gaze, and gaze, and gaze in amazement, -without conscious thought, like a man in a trance, reluctant to go away, -and you want to spend at least a day and night, viewing close at hand -its ever-varying phenomena. - -Had we only brought with us wrappers, I believe we should have been the -first to have slept on the Black Ledge. Now that the edge of curiosity -is a little blunted and the judgment cool, we can see that there would -be a degree of hazard and temerity in it which is not felt under the -excitement of novelty, and in the full tide of discovery. Forced by -startling admonitions, of instant danger, I had to quit suddenly the -precarious footing I had gained on the caldron's edge, like a hungry -man hurried from his repast ere he has snatched a mouthful. But the look -I caught there, and the impression of horror, awfulness, and sublimity -thence obtained, live and will live in my conscious being forever and -ever; and it is this shall help me utter what many have experienced, and -have wished to say before the poet said it for them: - - "One compact hour of crowded life - Is worth an age without a name." - -A moment of being under such circumstances is an epoch in the history of -one's mind; and he, perhaps, may be deemed the most highly favored of -mortals who has the most of such epochs in remembrance, provided only -that the incommunicable thoughts and emotions which, in the moment of -that experience, seemed to permeate the very substance of the mind, have -given it a moral tone and impulse running through all its subsequent -life. It is thus that thoughts are waked "to perish never," being -instamped ineffaceably upon the spiritual frame-work and foundation -stones of the soul, dignifying and consecrating them to noble uses. - -It was not, I trust, without some valuable additions to our stock of -impressions in this line, that we reluctantly left that spot. Departing -thence, we passed over a tract between the level of the brim of the -caldron and the Black Ledge, in order to gain again the latter, most -strangely rugged and wild, as if convulsion after convulsion had -upheaved, and sunk, and rent, and piled the vast mineral and rocky -masses; forming here great hills like the ruins of a hundred towers, and -there deep indentations, while every block lay upon its fellow, ready to -be dislodged, edge-wise, crosswise, endwise, sidewise, angle-wise, and -every-wise, in the wildest confusion and variety possible, as if -Typhoean giants had been hurling them at each other in war; or as when -the warring angels - - "From their foundations loosening to and fro, - Uptore the seated hills, with all their load, - And sent them thundering upon their adversaries. - Then hills amid the air encounter'd hills, - Hurled to and fro with jaculation dire: - Horrid confusion heap'd upon confusion rose." - -Rocks, too, in earthquake commotions, have been started from the -perpendicular sides of the crater in this part, and have rolled down -eight hundred or a thousand feet with a force, one might think, that -would almost shake the world. - -When we had thus encompassed the crater, and had returned to the point -where we first came down upon the Black Ledge, it was getting toward -night, and I found myself so excessively heated and feverish, and -throbbing with the headache, which most persons there suffer from, as to -be unable to go for the castellated and Gothic specimens into some ovens -that are found in the sides near by. - -Leaving, therefore, my companion and the natives to hunt for them, I -proceeded slowly back, and toiled up, with difficulty, the steep side of -this stupendous crater, which may be set down at a moderate calculation -as not less than twelve miles in circumference, and one thousand feet -deep. In the centre of this vast sunken amphitheatre of volcanic fire, - - "A dungeon horrible on all sides round, - As one great furnace flaming," - -a man looks up to heaven, and to the seared walls of this great prison, -and feels like a pigmy, or the veriest insect, in contrast with so -mighty and terrible a work of the Lord God Almighty. - -The person who can go down into it, and come up safe from it, with a -light mind, unthankful and unawed, is as wanting in some of the best -attributes of mental manhood as of piety; and, let me say with Cowper, - - "I would not enter on my list of friends, - Though graced with polished manners and fine sense," - -the man who should prove himself so brutishly insensible to the sublime -vestiges of Divine power, and to the providential care of Divine -goodness. - -We spent the night by the volcano. I slept a little at intervals, just -raising myself at every awakening to look at Pele's fires, which spouted -and played like fountains, and leaped suddenly with a flash from place -to place, like electricity on wire in the experiments of the -lecture-room. - -Once when I arose at midnight and went out a little beyond the range of -our screen, to enjoy in silence the august and grand spectacle, the -violence of the wind was such as to take off my unguarded hat, and carry -it clear over the brink of the crater, where it lodged for the night, -but was recovered with little injury in the morning by one of our -courageous natives. - -One of the early visitors there said that, on coming near the rim, he -fell upon his hands and knees awe-struck, and crept cautiously to the -rocky brink, unwilling at once to walk up to the giddy verge and look -down as from a mast-head upon the fiery gulf at his feet. In a little -time, however, like a landsman after a while at sea, he was able to -stand very near and gaze unalarmed upon this wonder of the world. - -I have myself known seamen that had faced unfearingly all the perils of -the deep, and had rushed boldly into battle with its mammoth monsters, -to stand appalled on the brink of Kilauea, and depart without daring to -try its abyss. Gazing upon it, then, at midnight, so near its brink as -we were, was rather venturing upon the edge of safety, as I found to my -cost. But woe to the man that should have a fit of somnambulism on the -spot where our tent was pitched that last night. Baron Munchausen's -seven-leagued boots could hardly save him from a warm bath in flowing -lava cherry-red. - -Morning broke again upon our open encampment, clear and bracing as upon -the Green Mountains of Vermont. With fingers burned and bleeding from -the climbing and crystal-digging of yesterday, we made all the dispatch -possible in collecting and packing specimens, but it was one o'clock -before we were ready to leave. Having at length got off the natives -with their burdens, two for Hilo and two for Kau, we kneeled for the -last time by that wonderful old furnace, where the hand of God works the -bellows and keeps up his vast laboratory of elemental fire. Then we -mounted our horses and bade a final good-by, the one for Hilo, and the -other for his happy Hawaiian home. - - - FOOTNOTE: - - [18] From "_The Island World_," a new work soon to be issued from - the press of Messrs. Harper and Brothers. - - - - -[From Chambers's Edinburgh Journal.] - -THE EVERY-DAY YOUNG LADY. - - -The every-day young lady is neither tall nor short, neither fat nor -lean. Her complexion is not fair, but clear, and her color not bright, -but healthy. She is not vulgarly well, but has not the least illness in -the world. Her face is oval, and her hair, moderate in quantity, is -usually of a soft brown. Her features are small and unobtrusive: her -nose being what the French passports call _moyen_--that is, neither one -thing nor t'other--and her eyes as gray as glass, but clear and gentle. -It is not the eyes that give her any little character she has; although, -if you have nothing else to do, and happen to look at them for a minute -or so, they win upon you. They are not varnished eyes, in which you can -see nothing but the brightness; and not deep eyes, into which your soul -plunges as into a gulf: they are mere common skylights, winning into -them a little bit of heaven, and giving you an inkling of good temper -and feminine gentleness. Neither is it her air, nor manner, nor dress, -that stamps her individuality, if she has any, for these belong to the -class of society in which she moves; but altogether she gives you an -idea of young-womanish refinement and amiableness, and you would think -of her again when alone, if there were not so many of her friends about -her as to divide and dilute, as it were, your impressions. - -The every-day young lady is usually dependent upon somebody or other, -but sometimes she has a small independence, which is much worse. In the -former case she clings like ivy, adorning, by her truth and gentleness, -the support she is proud of; while in the other she gives her £30 a year -to a relation as an inadequate compensation for her board and clothing, -and lives in a state of unheard-of bondage and awful gratitude. Her life -is diversified by friendships, in which her own feelings last the -longest; by enmities, in which she suffers and forgives; and by -loves--though almost always at second-hand. She is a confidant, a -go-between, a bridemaid; but if she finds herself on the brink of a -serious flirtation, she shrinks into her own foolish little heart in -surprise and timidity, and the affair never becomes any thing but a -mystery, which she carries with her through life, and which makes her -shake her head on occasions, and look conscious and experienced, so as -to give people the idea that this young lady has a history. If the -affair does go on, it is a public wonder how she came to get actually -married. Many persons consider that she must have been playing a part -all along for this very purpose; that her timidity and bashfulness were -assumed, and her self-denial a _ruse_; and that, in point of fact, she -was not by any means what she gave herself out to be--an every-day young -lady. - -For our part we have known many such young ladies in our day--and so -have you, and you, and you: the world of society is full of them. We -have a notion of our own, indeed, that they are _the sex_; or, in other -words, that they are the class from which are drawn our conventional -notions of womankind, and that the rest--that is those women who have -what is called character--are counterfeit women. The feminine virtues -are all of a retiring kind, which does not mean that they are invisible -even to strangers, but that they are seen through a half-transparent -vail of feminine timidity and self-postponement. In like manner, the -_physique_ of women, truly so called, is not remarkable or obtrusive: -their eyes do not flash at you like a pistol, nor their voices arrest -suddenly your attention, as if they said "Stand and deliver!" That men -in general admire the exceptions rather than the rule, may be true, but -that is owing to bad taste, coarseness of mind, or the mere hurry of -society, which prevents them from observing more than its salient -points. For our part we have always liked every-day young ladies, and -sometimes we felt inclined to love a few of them; but somehow it never -went beyond inclination. This may have been owing in part to the -headlong life one leads in the world, but in part likewise--if we may -venture the surmise--to our own sensitiveness preventing us from poking -ourselves upon the sensitiveness of other people. - -A great many every-day young ladies have been represented in the -character of heroines of romance; but there they are called by other -names, and made to run about, and get into predicaments, so that one -does not know what to make of them. The Countess Isabelle of Croye is an -extremely every-day young lady; but look how she runs away, and how she -sees a bishop murdered at supper, and how she is going to be married to -a Wild Boar, and how at last, after running away again, she gives her -hand and immense possessions to a young Scotsman as poor as a church -mouse! Who can tell, in such a hurry-skurry, what she is in her -individuality, or what she would turn out to be if let alone, or if the -author had a turn for bringing out every-day characters? Then we have -every-day young ladies set up for heroines without doing any thing for -it at all, and who look in the emergencies of life just as if they were -eating bread and butter, or crying over a novel at home. Of such is -Evelina, who has a sweet look for every person, and every thing, in -every possible situation, and who is expected, on the strength of that -sole endowment, to pass for a heroine of every-day life. This is -obviously improper; for an every-day young lady has a principle of -development within her like every body else. If you expose her to -circumstances, these circumstances must act upon her in one way or -another; they must bring her out; and she must win a husband for -herself, not get him by accident, blind contact, or the strong necessity -of marrying--a necessity which has no alternative in the case of a -heroine but the grave. - -Such blunders, however, are now at an end; for a real every-day young -lady has come out into public life, and an illumination has been thrown -upon the class, which must proceed either from one of themselves or from -inspiration.[19] But we are not going to criticise the book; for that -would bring us to loggerheads with the critics, not one of whom has the -least notion of the nature of the charm they all confess. This charm -consists in its painting an every-day young lady to the life, and for -the first time; and it by no means consists, as it is said to do, in the -plot, which is but indifferently concocted, or in the incidents, that -are sometimes destitute both of social and artistical truth. Anne Dysart -herself, however, is a masterly portrait. Its living eyes are upon us -from first to last, following us like the eyes of those awful pictures -in the dining-room of long ago, which we could not escape from in any -corner of the room. But Anne's eyes are not awful: they are sweet, calm, -gentle. The whole figure is associated with the quieter and better parts -of our nature. It comes to us, with its shy looks and half-withdrawn -hands, like somebody we knew all our lives, and still know; somebody who -walks with us, mellowing, but not interrupting our thoughts; somebody -who sits by us when we are writing or reading, and throws a creamy hue -upon the paper; somebody whose breath warms us when it is cold, and -whose shadow stands between us and the scorching sun; somebody, in -short, who gives us assurance, we know not how, of an every-day young -lady. - -To paint a character which has no salient points demands a first-rate -artist; but to see the inner life of a quiet, timid, retiring mind, is -the exclusive privilege of a poet. To suppose that there is no inner -life in such minds, or none worth observing, is a grand mistake. The -crested wave may be a picturesque or striking object in itself; but -under the calm, smooth surface of the passionless sea there are -beautiful things to behold--painted shells, and corals, and yellow -sands, and sea-plants stretching their long waving arms up to the light. -How many of us sail on without giving a glance to such things, our eyes -fixed on the frowning or inviting headland, or peopling the desert air -with phantoms! Just so do we turn away from what seems to us the void of -every-day life to grapple with the excitements of the world. - -Anne Dysart is not Miss Douglas's Anne Dysart: she is yours, ours, -everybody's. She is the very every-day young lady. The author did not -invent her: she found her where the Highlandman found the tongs--by the -fireside. And that is her true position, where alone she is at home. -When she goes into society, unless it be among associates, she is always -under some sort of alarm. She is told that there is company in the -drawing-room, strangers come to visit--young ladies celebrated for their -beauty and accomplishments--and she treads the stairs with a beating -heart, feeling awkward and ignorant, and enters with a desperate -calmness. The visitors, however, like her, she is so modest and -unobtrusive; and the every-day young lady is charmed and even affected -by their patronizing kindness. She is reputed by these persons as a -"nice girl, rather amiable-looking, but not in the least like the -heroine of a novel." When she visits them in return, she is at first -oppressed with a feeling of shyness, but at length still more -overpowered by the kindness with which she is received, and she walks to -the window to conceal her emotion. In this position our Anne--for we -deny that Miss Douglas has any special property in her--comes out -strong: "As Anne now stood, dressed in deep mourning, the blackness of -her garments only relieved by a small white collar and a pair of cuffs, -the expression of her countenance very pensive, her eyes shining mildly -in the sunlight which was reflected from the crimson curtain upon her at -present somewhat pale cheek, Mrs. Grey, as she whispered to Charlotte, -'Really, poor thing, she does look very interesting!' felt the influence -of her peculiar charm, without, however, comprehending its source." - -Anne attracts the attention of one of the company, a harsh-featured, -ungraceful person, under forty, with a large mouth, determined lips, -deep-set, thoughtful eyes, and a confused mass of dark hair hanging over -a large and full forehead. Whereupon she instantly feels uncomfortable -and frightened. But for all that, it is settled that the _bête noir_ -walks home with her; and resting the tips of her fingers on his arm, -onward they go, these two fated individuals, in solemn silence. The -conversation which at length begins consists of unpolite questions on -the gentleman's part, and constrained answers on that of the lady; but -at length she is saved from replying to a specially disagreeable and -impertinent interrogatory by stumbling over a stone. - -"_Did you fall on purpose?_" said he. The every-day young lady is both -frightened and displeased, and being further urged, feels something -actually resembling indignation. When they part, it is with a feeling on -her part of inexpressible relief, and she thinks to herself that she had -never before met so singular or so disagreeable a man. - -This is unpromising: but it is correct. The every-day young lady -_thinks_ of the rough, odd man; and he is struck now and then by a word -or a look in her which piques his curiosity or interests his feelings. -He at length learns to look into her calm, soft eyes, and sees through -the passionless surface of her character some precious things gleaming -in its depths. The following quotation will show at what length he -arrives: "Anne pondered for a few minutes. She had a rather slow though -a sound understanding. There was some truth in what Mr. Bolton said, but -so great a want of charity, that she felt from the first as if, some way -or other, he could not be quite right. It was some time, however, ere -she discovered how he was wrong, and even then perhaps could not have -defined it." She answered gravely and modestly, but with less timidity -than usual. - -"But still, Mr. Bolton, it is possible to be both agreeable and sincere. -I know it is possible, because I have seen it; and I think that though -there is some truth in what you say, yet, as far as my very limited -experience justifies me in forming an opinion, I should say that truth, -united with kindness, _is_ appreciated; indeed I am sure some people -have been liked who never flattered: I knew one person at least whom -every body loved, who would not have told a falsehood for the world, and -who _was_ all he _seemed_." - -"I suppose you mean your father? Well, without exactly sharing in your -filial enthusiasm, I am inclined to believe that he was a superior man." - -"Are you indeed? Why, may I ask?" said Anne very timidly, and venturing -for the first time to put a question in her turn. - -"Why?" he repeated, with a momentary return of the wonderful smile. -"Because his daughter has rather more simplicity of mind, rather more -purity of heart, rather more intelligence, rather less frivolity, rather -less artifice, rather fewer coquettish tricks to flatter the vanity, and -entrap the admiration, of silly men--in short, rather more _sincerity_ -than one meets every day; I guess she must have had a father somewhat -above the average." Mr. Bolton spoke in a low tone, and there was in his -voice a depth and a softness that struck his listener's ear as being -altogether different from its wont. Whatever this difference might be, -however, it was not lasting, for when, after a moment's pause, he spoke -again, it was with an exaggeration even of his ordinary harshness both -of voice and manner: "But you need not fancy I am paying you a -compliment. You are no angel; and even during our short acquaintance, I -have discovered in you some faults and follies, and doubtless there are -others behind. In some respects you are very childish, or perhaps it -would be as correct to say _womanish_." With this rude speech, Mr. -Bolton concluded, drawing back with an air of having nothing more to -say, and assuming a look which seemed to forbid any one to speak to him. - -But this wild man chooses her for a wife, proposes for her hand--and is -refused. Why so? Because she was an every-day young lady. He was rich; -he had good points--nay, great ones, in his character: but he was an -uncomfortable man. She could not love him, and she could not think of -marrying a man she could not love. Had it been the young clergyman, the -case would have been different. A nice young man was he; and, like all -other young ladies of her class, Anne had her dreams of gentle -happiness, and congeniality of temper, and poetry, and flowers, and -sunsets, and a genteel cottage. But the young clergyman could not afford -to think of an almost penniless girl for a wife; and so poor Anne's -episode was ended before it was well begun; and the affair would have -assumed in her solitary heart the enduring form of a Mystery, if -exigencies had not arisen to call forth feelings and resolves that brook -no such unsubstantial companions. - -This every-day young lady had a brother in Edinburgh, and the brother -fell into folly, and misery, and sickness, and desperate poverty. He -wanted a friend, a nurse, a servant, and she knew that his bedside was -her natural post. The difficulty was to get so far with her poor little -funds; but this is accomplished, and instead of the outside of the mail -on a wintry night, she has even had the good-fortune to enjoy an inside -seat, some gentleman being seized with the caprice of encountering the -frost and snow. This gentleman, she discovers afterward, is her -discarded lover; and he--how many discoveries does he make! The -every-day young lady, thrown into the battle of circumstances, rises -with the strife. She who had been accustomed to sit silent, seeming to -agree with others in what was untrue, merely from want of courage, now -endures without flinching the extremities even of actual want. Now come -out, one by one, obvious to the sight, the thousand beautiful things in -the depths of her quiet mind; and the eyes of the odd gentleman are -dimmed with emotion as he looks at them. Already had she begun to wonder -at this man, to call his austerity melancholy, to grieve that he was -unhappy, to think what he could be thinking about; and now, when she and -her darling brother are saved, protected, held up by his strong hand, -the hold he takes of her imagination communicates itself insensibly to -her heart. His features lose their harshness; his deep-set eyes become -soft; his lips relax; and finally, he cuts his hair. What more needs be -said? - -But we take leave to disagree with this individual in his idea that Anne -Dysart has more simplicity, purity, and quiet intelligence than other -every-day young ladies. She is, on the contrary, nothing more than a -type of the class; and the fact is proved by the resemblance in her -portrait being at once recognized. We do not stand upon the color of her -hair, or eyes, or other physical characteristics, for these are mere -averages, and may be very different in our Anne and yours; but her -shyness, hesitation, and cowardice--her modesty, gentleness, and -truth--these are stereotyped traits, and are the same in all. But when -such qualities rise, or become metamorphosed, to meet the exigencies of -life, how do we recognize them? By intuition. We acknowledge in others -the principle of development we feel in ourselves. Our fault is, that -we pass over as worthy of no remark, no careful tending, no holy -reverence, the slumbering germs of all that is good and beautiful in the -female character, and suffer our attention to be engrossed by its -affectations and monstrosities. Let us correct this fever of the taste. -Let us learn to enjoy the still waters and quiet pastures. When we see -an every-day young lady flitting about our rooms, or crossing our paths, -or wandering by our side, let us regard her no more as if she were a -shadow, or a part of the common atmosphere, necessary, though unheeded; -let us look upon her with fondness and respect, and if we would be -blessed ourselves, let us say--God bless her! - - - FOOTNOTE: - - [19] Anne Dysart, a Tale of Every-day Life. 3 vols. London: - Colburn. 1850. - - - - -[From Dickens's Household Words.] - -HISTORY AND ANECDOTES OF BANK NOTE FORGERIES. - - -Viotti's division of violin-playing into two great classes--good playing -and bad playing--is applicable to Bank note making. The processes -employed in manufacturing good Bank notes have been often described; we -shall now cover a few pages with a faint outline of the various arts, -stratagems, and contrivances employed in concocting bad Bank notes. The -picture can not be drawn with very distinct or strong markings. The -tableaux from which it is copied are so intertwisted and complicated -with clever, slippery, ingenious scoundrelism, that a finished chart of -it would be worse than morally displeasing: it would be tedious. - -All arts require time and experience for their development. When any -thing great is to be done, first attempts are nearly always failures. -The first Bank note forgery was no exception to this rule, and its story -has a spice of romance in it. The affair has never been circumstantially -told; but some research enables us to detail it: - -In the month of August, 1757, a gentleman living in the neighborhood of -Lincoln's Inn Fields, named Bliss, advertised for a clerk. There were, -as was usual even at that time, many applicants; but the successful one -was a young man of twenty-six, named Richard William Vaughan. His -manners were so winning, and his demeanor so much that of a gentleman -(he belonged indeed to a good county family in Staffordshire, and had -been a student at Pembroke Hall, Oxford), that Mr. Bliss at once engaged -him. Nor had he occasion, during the time the new clerk served him, to -repent the step. Vaughan was so diligent, intelligent, and steady, that -not even when it transpired that he was, commercially speaking, "under a -cloud," did his master lessen confidence in him. Some inquiry into his -antecedents showed that he had, while at College, been extravagant; that -his friends had removed him thence; set him up in Stafford -as a wholesale linen-draper, with a branch establishment in -Aldersgate-street, London; that he had failed, and that there was some -difficulty about his certificate. But so well did he excuse his early -failings, and account for his misfortunes, that his employer did not -check the regard he felt growing toward him. Their intercourse was not -merely that of master and servant. Vaughan was a frequent guest at -Bliss's table; by-and-by a daily visitor to his wife, and--to his ward. - -Miss Bliss was a young lady of some attractions, not the smallest of -which was a handsome fortune. Young Vaughan made the most of his -opportunities. He was well-looking, well-informed, dressed well, and -evidently made love well, for he won the young lady's heart. The -guardian was not flinty-hearted, and acted like a sensible man of the -world. "It was not," he said on a subsequent and painful occasion, "till -I learned from the servants, and observed by the girl's behavior, that -she greatly approved Richard Vaughan, that I consented; but on condition -that he should make it appear that he could maintain her. I had no doubt -of his character as a servant, and I knew his family were respectable. -His brother is an eminent attorney." Vaughan boasted that his mother -(his father was dead) was willing to re-instate him in business with a -thousand pounds; five hundred of which was to be settled upon Miss Bliss -for her separate use. - -So far all went on prosperously. Providing Richard Vaughan could attain -a position satisfactory to the Blisses, the marriage was to take place -on the Easter Monday following, which, the Calendar tells us, happened -early in April, 1758. With this understanding, he left Mr. Bliss's -service, to push his fortune. - -Months passed on, and Vaughan appears to have made no way in the world. -He had not even obtained his bankrupt's certificate. His visits to his -affianced were frequent, and his protestations passionate; but he had -effected nothing substantial toward a happy union. Miss Bliss's guardian -grew impatient; and, although there is no evidence to prove that the -young lady's affection for Vaughan was otherwise than deep and sincere, -yet even she began to lose confidence in him. His excuses were evidently -evasive, and not always true. The time fixed for the wedding was fast -approaching; and Vaughan saw that something must be done to restore the -young lady's confidence. - -About three weeks before the appointed Easter Tuesday, Vaughan went to -his mistress in high spirits. All was right: his certificate was to be -granted in a day or two; his family had come forward with the money, and -he was to continue the Aldersgate business he had previously carried on -as a branch of the Stafford trade. The capital he had waited so long -for, was at length forthcoming. In fact, here were two hundred and forty -pounds of the five hundred he was to settle on his beloved. Vaughan then -produced twelve twenty-pound notes; Miss Bliss could scarcely believe -her eyes. She examined them. The paper she remarked seemed rather -thicker than usual. "Oh," said Bliss, "all Bank bills are not alike." -The girl was naturally much pleased. She would hasten to apprize -Mistress Bliss of the good news. - -Not for the world! So far from letting any living soul know he had -placed so much money in her hands, Vaughan exacted an oath of secresy -from her, and sealed the notes up in a parcel with his own seal; making -her swear that she would on no account open it till after their -marriage. - -Some days after, that is, "on the twenty-second of March," (1758)--we -are describing the scene in Mr. Bliss's own words--"I was sitting with -my wife by the fireside. The prisoner and the girl were sitting in the -same room--which was a small one--and, although they whispered, I could -distinguish that Vaughan was very urgent to have something returned -which he had previously given to her. She refused, and Vaughan went away -in an angry mood. I then studied the girl's face, and saw that it -expressed much dissatisfaction. Presently a tear broke out. I then -spoke, and insisted on knowing the dispute. She refused to tell, and I -told her that, until she did, I would not see her. The next day I asked -the same question of Vaughan; he hesitated. 'Oh!' I said, 'I dare say it -is some ten or twelve pound matter--something to buy a wedding bauble -with.' He answered that it was much more than that--it was near three -hundred pounds! 'But why all this secresy?' I said; and he answered it -was not proper for people to know he had so much money till his -certificate was signed. I then asked him to what intent he had left the -notes with the young lady? He said, as I had of late suspected him, he -designed to give her a proof of his affection and truth. I said, 'You -have demanded them in such a way that it must be construed as an -abatement of your affection toward her.'" Vaughan was again exceedingly -urgent in asking back the packet; but Bliss, remembering his many -evasions, and supposing that this was a trick, declined advising his -niece to restore the parcel without proper consideration. The very next -day it was discovered that the notes were counterfeit. - -This occasioned stricter inquiries into Vaughan's previous career. It -turned out that he bore the character in his native place of a -dissipated, and not very scrupulous person. The intention of his mother -to assist him was an entire fabrication, and he had given Miss Bliss the -forged notes solely for the purpose of deceiving her on that matter. -Meanwhile the forgeries became known to the authorities, and he was -arrested. By what means, does not clearly appear. The "Annual Register" -says that one of the engravers gave information; but we find nothing in -the newspapers of the time to support that statement; neither was it -corroborated at Vaughan's trial. - -When Vaughan was arrested he thrust a piece of paper into his mouth, and -began to chew it violently. It was, however, rescued, and proved to be -one of the forged notes; fourteen of them were found on his person, and -when his lodgings were searched twenty more were discovered. - -Vaughan was tried at the Old Bailey, on the seventh of April, before -Lord Mansfield. The manner of the forgery was detailed minutely at the -trial: On the first of March (about a week before he gave the twelve -notes to the young lady), Vaughan called on Mr. John Corbould, an -engraver, and gave an order for a promissory note to be engraved with -these words: - - "No. ----. - - "I promise to pay to ----, or Bearer, ----, London ----." - -There was to be a Britannia in the corner. When it was done, Mr. Sneed -(for that was the _alias_ Vaughan adopted), came again, but objected to -the execution of the work. The Britannia was not good, and the words "I -promise" were too near the edge of the plate. Another was in consequence -engraved, and on the fourth of March, Vaughan took it away. He -immediately repaired to a printer, and had forty-eight impressions taken -on thin paper, provided by himself. Meanwhile, he had ordered, on the -same morning, of Mr. Charles Fourdrinier, another engraver, a second -plate, with what he called "a direction," in the words, "For the -Governor and Company of the Bank of England." This was done, and about a -week later he brought some paper, each sheet "folded up," said the -witness, "very curiously, so that I could not see what was in them. I -was going to take the papers from him, but he said he must go up-stairs -with me, and see them worked off himself. I took him up-stairs; he would -not let me have them out of his hands. I took a sponge and wetted them, -and put them one by one on the plate in order for printing them. After -my boy had done two or three of them, I went down-stairs, and my boy -worked the rest off, and the prisoner came down and paid me." - -Here the court pertinently asked, "What imagination had you when a man -thus came to you to print on secret paper, 'the Governor and Company of -the Bank of England?'" - -The engraver's reply was: "I then did not suspect any thing. But I shall -take care for the future." As this was the first Bank of England note -forgery that was ever perpetrated, the engraver was held excused. - -It may be mentioned as an evidence of the delicacy of the reporters, -that, in their account of the trial, Miss Bliss's name is not mentioned. -Her designation is "a young lady." We subjoin the notes of her evidence: - -"A young lady (sworn). The prisoner delivered me some bills; these are -the same (producing twelve counterfeit bank notes sealed up in a cover, -for twenty pounds each), said that they were Bank bills. I said they -were thicker paper--he said all bills are not alike. I was to keep them -till after we were married. He put them into my hands to show he put -confidence in me, and desired me not to show them to any body; sealed -them up with his own seal, and obliged me by an oath not to discover -them to any body. And I did not till he had discovered them himself. He -was to settle so much in stock on me." - -Vaughan urged in his defense, that his sole object was to deceive his -affianced, and that he intended to destroy all the notes after his -marriage. But it had been proved that the prisoner had asked one John -Ballingar to change first one, and then twenty of the notes; but which -that person was unable to do. Besides, had his sole object been to -dazzle Miss Bliss with his fictitious wealth, he would, most probably, -have intrusted more, if not all the notes, to her keeping. - -He was found guilty, and passed the day that had been fixed for his -wedding, as a condemned criminal. - -On the 11th of May, 1758, Richard William Vaughan was executed at -Tyburn. By his side, on the same gallows, there was another forger: -William Boodgere, a military officer, who had forged a draught on an -army agent named Calcroft, and expiated the offense with the first -forger of Bank of England notes. - -The gallows may seem hard measure to have meted out to Vaughan, when it -is considered that none of his notes were negotiated, and no person -suffered by his fraud. Not one of the forty-eight notes, except the -twelve delivered to Miss Bliss, had been out of his possession; indeed, -the imitation must have been very clumsily executed, and detection would -have instantly followed any attempt to pass the counterfeits. There was -no endeavor to copy the style of engraving on a real bank note. That was -left to the engraver; and as each sheet passed through the press twice, -the words added at the second printing, "For the Governor and Company of -the Bank of England," could have fallen into their proper place on any -one of the sheets, only by a miracle. But what would have made the -forgery clear to even a superficial observer, was the singular omission, -of the second "n" in the word England.[20] - -The criticism on Vaughan's note of a bank clerk examined on the trial -was: "There is some resemblance, to be sure; but this note" (that upon -which the prisoner was tried) "is numbered thirteen thousand eight -hundred and forty, and we never reach so high a number." Besides there -was no water-mark in the paper. The note of which a fac-simile appeared -in our eighteenth number, and dated so early as 1699, has a regular -design in the texture of the paper; showing that the water-mark is as -old as the bank notes themselves. - -Vaughan was greatly commiserated. But despite the unskillfulness of the -forgery, and the insignificant consequences which followed it, the crime -was considered of too dangerous a character not to be marked, from its -very novelty, with exemplary punishment. Hanging created at that time no -remorse in the public mind, and it was thought necessary to set up -Vaughan as a warning to all future bank-note forgers. The crime was too -dangerous not to be marked with the severest penalties. Forgery differs -from other crimes not less in the magnitude of the spoil it may obtain, -and of the injury it inflicts, than in the facilities attending its -accomplishment. The common thief finds a limit to his depredations in -the bulkiness of his booty, which is generally confined to such property -as he can carry about his person; the swindler raises insuperable and -defeating obstacles to his frauds if the amount he seeks to obtain is so -considerable as to awaken close vigilance or inquiry. To carry their -projects to any very profitable extent, these criminals are reduced to -the hazardous necessity of acting in concert, and thus infinitely -increasing the risks of detection. But the forger need have no -accomplice; he is burdened with no bulky and suspicious property; he -needs no receiver to assist his contrivances. The skill of his own -individual right hand can command thousands; often with the certainty of -not being detected, and oftener with such rapidity as to enable him to -baffle the pursuit of justice. - -It was a long time before Vaughan's rude attempt was improved upon: but -in the same year (1758), another department of the crime was commenced -with perfect success; namely, an ingenious alteration, for fraudulent -purposes, of real bank notes. A few months after Vaughan's execution, -one of the northern mails was stopped and robbed by a highwayman; -several bank notes were comprised in the spoil, and the robber, setting -up with these as a gentleman, went boldly to the Hatfield Post-office, -ordered a chaise and four, rattled away down the road, and changed a -note at every change of horses. The robbery was, of course, soon made -known, and the numbers and dates of the stolen notes were advertised as -having been stopped at the bank. To the genius of a highwayman this -offered but a small obstacle, and the gentleman-thief changed all the -figures "1" he could find into "4's." These notes passed currently -enough; but, on reaching the bank, the alteration was detected, and the -last holder was refused payment. As that person had given a valuable -consideration for the note, he brought an action for the recovery of the -amount; and at the trial it was ruled by the Lord Chief Justice, that -"any person paying a valuable consideration for a bank note, payable to -bearer, in a fair course of business, has an understood right to receive -the money of the bank." - -It took a quarter of a century to bring the art of forging bank notes to -perfection. In 1779, this was nearly attained by an ingenious gentleman, -named Mathison, a watchmaker from the matrimonial village of Gretna -Green. Having learned the arts of engraving and of simulating -signatures, he tried his hand at the notes of the Darlington Bank; but, -with the confidence of skill, was not cautious in passing them, was -suspected, and absconded to Edinburgh. Scorning to let his talent be -wasted, he favored the Scottish public with many spurious Royal Bank of -Scotland notes, and regularly forged his way by their aid to London. At -the end of February he took handsome lodgings in the Strand, opposite -Arundel-street. His industry was remarkable: for, by the 12th of March, -he had planed and polished rough pieces of copper, engraved them, forged -the water-mark, printed and negotiated several impressions. His plan was -to travel and to purchase articles in shops. He bought a pair of -shoe-buckles at Coventry with a forged note, which was eventually -detected at the Bank of England. He had got so bold that he paid such -frequent visits in Threadneedle-street, that the bank clerks became -familiar with his person. He was continually changing notes of one, for -another denomination. These were his originals, which he procured to -make spurious copies of. One day seven thousand pounds came in from the -Stamp Office. There was a dispute about one of the notes. Mathison, who -was present, though at some distance, declared, oracularly, that the -note was a good one. How could he know so well? A dawn of suspicion -arose in the minds of the clerks; one trail led into another, and -Mathison was finally apprehended. So well were his notes forged that, on -the trial, an experienced bank clerk declared, he could not tell whether -the note handed him to examine was forged or not. Mathison offered to -reveal his secret of forging the water-mark, if mercy were shown to him; -this was refused, and he suffered the penalty of his crime. - -Mathison was a genius in his criminal way, but a greater than he -appeared in 1786. In that year perfection seemed to have been reached. -So considerable was the circulation of spurious paper-money, that it -appeared as if some unknown power had set up a bank of its own. Notes -were issued from it, and readily passed current, in hundreds and -thousands. They were not to be distinguished from the genuine paper of -Threadneedle-street. Indeed, when one was presented there, in due -course, so complete were all its parts; so masterly the engraving; so -correct the signatures; so skillful the water-mark, that it was promptly -paid; and only discovered to be a forgery when it reached a particular -department. From that period forged paper continued to be presented, -especially at the time of lottery drawing. Consultations were held with -the police. Plans were laid to help detection. Every effort was made to -trace the forger. Clarke, the best detective of his day, went, like a -sluth-hound, on the track; for in those days the expressive word -"blood-money" was known. Up to a certain point there was little -difficulty; but, beyond that, consummate art defied the ingenuity of -the officer. In whatever way the notes came, the train of discovery -always paused at the lottery-offices. Advertisements offering large -rewards were circulated; but the unknown forger baffled detection. - -While this base paper was in full currency, there appeared an -advertisement in the Daily Advertiser for a servant. The successful -applicant was a young man, in the employment of a musical-instrument -maker; who, some time after, was called upon by a coachman, and informed -that the advertiser was waiting in a coach to see him. The young man was -desired to enter the conveyance, where he beheld a person with something -of the appearance of a foreigner, sixty or seventy years old, apparently -troubled with the gout. A camlet surtout was buttoned round his mouth; a -large patch was placed over his left eye; and nearly every part of his -face was concealed. He affected much infirmity. He had a faint hectic -cough; and invariably presented the patched side to the view of the -servant. After some conversation--in the course of which he represented -himself as guardian to a young nobleman of great fortune--the interview -concluded with the engagement of the applicant; and the new servant was -directed to call on Mr. Brank, at 29, Titchfield-street, Oxford-street. -At this interview, Brank inveighed against his whimsical ward for his -love of speculating in lottery tickets; and told the servant that his -principal duty would be to purchase them. After one or two meetings, at -each of which Brank kept his face muffled, he handed a forty and twenty -pound bank note; told the servant to be very careful not to lose them; -and directed him to buy lottery-tickets at separate offices. The young -man fulfilled his instructions, and at the moment he was returning, was -suddenly called by his employer from the other side of the street, -congratulated on his rapidity, and then told to go to various other -offices in the neighborhood of the Royal Exchange, and to purchase more -shares. Four hundred pounds in Bank of England notes were handed him, -and the wishes of the mysterious Mr. Brank were satisfactorily effected. -These scenes were continually enacted. Notes to a large amount were thus -circulated; lottery-tickets purchased; and Mr. Brank--always in a coach, -with his face studiously concealed--was ever ready on the spot to -receive them. The surprise of the servant was somewhat excited; but had -he known that from the period he left his master to purchase the -tickets, one female figure accompanied all his movements; that when he -entered the offices, it waited at the door, peered cautiously in at the -window, hovered around him like a second shadow, watched him carefully, -and never left him until once more he was in the company of his -employer--that surprise would have been greatly increased.[21] Again and -again were these extraordinary scenes rehearsed. At last the Bank -obtained a clew, and the servant was taken into custody. The directors -imagined that they had secured the actor of so many parts; that the -flood of forged notes which had inundated that establishment would at -length be dammed up at its source. Their hopes proved fallacious, and it -was found that "Old Patch" (as the mysterious forger was, from the -servant's description, nick-named) had been sufficiently clever to -baffle the Bank directors. The house in Titchfield-street was searched; -but Mr. Brank had deserted it, and not a trace of a single implement of -forgery was to be seen. - -All that could be obtained was some little knowledge of "Old Patch's" -proceedings. It appeared that he carried on his paper coining entirely -by himself. His only confidant was his mistress. He was his own -engraver. He even made his own ink. He manufactured his own paper. With -a private press he worked his own notes; and counterfeited the -signatures of the cashiers, completely. But these discoveries had no -effect; for it became evident that Mr. Patch had set up a press -elsewhere. Although his secret continued as impenetrable, his notes -became as plentiful as ever. Five years of unbounded prosperity ought to -have satisfied him; but it did not. Success seemed to pall him. His -genius was of that insatiable order which demands new excitements, and a -constant succession of new flights. The following paragraph from a -newspaper of 1786 relates to the same individual: - -"On the 17th of December, ten pounds were paid into the Bank, for which -the clerk, as usual, gave a ticket to receive a Bank note of equal -value. This ticket ought to have been carried immediately to the -cashier, instead of which the bearer took it home, and curiously added -an 0 to the original sum, and returning, presented it so altered to the -cashier, for which he received a note of one hundred pounds. In the -evening, the clerks found a deficiency in the accounts; and on examining -the tickets of the day, not only that but two others were discovered to -have been obtained in the same manner. In the one, the figure 1 was -altered to 4, and in another to 5, by which the artist received, upon -the whole, nearly one thousand pounds." - -To that princely felony, Old Patch, as will be seen in the sequel, added -smaller misdemeanors which one would think were far beneath his notice; -except to convince himself and his mistress of the unbounded facility of -his genius for fraud. - -At that period, the affluent public were saddled with a tax on plate; -and many experiments were made to evade it. Among others, one was -invented by a Mr. Charles Price, a stock-jobber and lottery-office -keeper, which, for a time, puzzled the tax-gatherer. Mr. Charles Price -lived in great style, gave splendid dinners, and did every thing on the -grandest scale. Yet Mr. Charles Price had no plate! The authorities -could not find so much as a silver tooth-pick on his magnificent -premises. In truth, what he was too cunning to possess, he borrowed. For -one of his sumptuous entertainments, he hired the plate of a silversmith -in Cornhill, and left the value in bank notes as security for its safe -return. One of these notes having proved a forgery, was traced to Mr. -Charles Price; and Mr. Charles Price was not to be found at that -particular juncture. Although this excited no surprise--for he was often -an absentee from his office for short periods--yet in due course, and as -a formal matter of business, an officer was set to find him, and to ask -his explanation regarding the false note. After tracing a man, who he -had a strong notion was Mr. Charles Price, through countless lodgings -and innumerable disguises, the officer (to use his own expression) -"nabbed" Mr. Charles Price. But, as Mr. Clarke observed, his prisoner -and his prisoner's lady were even then "too many" for him; for, although -he lost not a moment in trying to secure the forging implements, after -he had discovered that Mr. Charles Price, and Mr. Brank, and Old Patch, -were all concentrated in the person of his prisoner, he found the lady -had destroyed every trace of evidence. Not a vestige of the forging -factory was left. Not the point of a graver, nor a single spot of ink, -nor a shred of silver paper, nor a scrap of any body's handwriting, was -to be met with. Despite, however, this paucity of evidence to convict -him, Mr. Charles Price had not the courage to face a jury, and -eventually he saved the judicature and the Tyburn executive much trouble -and expense, by hanging himself in Bridewell. - -The success of Mr. Charles Price has never been surpassed; and even -after the darkest era in the history of Bank forgeries--which dates from -the suspension of cash payments, in February, 1797--"Old Patch" was -still remembered as the Cæsar of Forgers. - - - FOOTNOTES: - - [20] Bad orthography was by no means uncommon in the most - important documents at that period; the days of the week, in the - day-books of the Bank of England itself, are spelled in a variety - of ways. - - [21] Francis's History of the Bank of England. - - - - -THE OLDEST INHABITANT OF THE PLACE DE GREVE. - - -The Police Courts of London have often displayed many a curious -character, many a strange scene, many an exquisite bit of dialogue; so -have the Police Courts in Ireland, especially at the Petty Sessions in -Kilrush; but we are not so well aware of how often a scene of rich and -peculiar humor occurs in the Police _tribuneaux_ of Paris. We will -proceed to give the reader a "taste of their quality." - -An extremely old woman, all in rags, was continually found begging in -the streets, and the Police having good-naturedly let her off several -times, were at last obliged to take her in charge, and bring her into -the court. Several magistrates were sitting. The following dialogue took -place between the President and the old woman. - -_President._--Now, my good woman, what have you to say for yourself? You -have been frequently warned by the Police, but you have persisted in -troubling people with begging. - -_Old Woman (in a humble, quavering tone)._--Ah, Monsieur le President, -it is not so much trouble to other people as it is to me. I am a very -old woman. - -_Pres._--Come, come, you must leave off begging, or I shall be obliged -to punish you. - -_Old W._--But, Monsieur le President, I can not live without--I must -beg--pardon me, Monsieur--I am obliged to beg. - -_Pres._--But I say you must not. Can you do no work? - -_Old W._--Ah, no, Monsieur; I am too old. - -_Pres._--Can't you sell something--little cakes--bonbons? - -_Old W._--No, Monsieur, I can't get any little stock to begin with; and, -if I could, I should be robbed by the _gamins_, or the little girls, for -I'm not very quick, and can't see well. - -_Pres._--Your relations must support you, then. You can not be allowed -to beg. Have you no son--no daughter--no grandchildren? - -_Old W._--No, Monsieur; none--none--all my relations are dead. - -_Pres._--Well then, your friends must give you assistance. - -_Old W._--Ah, Monsieur, I have no friends; and, indeed, I never had but -one, in my life; but he too is gone. - -_Pres._--And who was he? - -_Old W._--Monsieur de Robespierre--_le pauvre, cher homme_! (The poor, -dear man!) - -_Pres._--Robespierre!--why what did you know of him? - -_Old W._--Oh, Monsieur, my mother was one of the _tricoteurs_ -(knitting-women) who used to sit round the foot of the guillotine, and I -always stood beside her. When Monsieur de Robespierre was passing by, in -attending his duties, he used to touch my cheek, and call me (here the -old woman shed tears) _la belle Marguerite: le pauvre, cher homme_! - -We must here pause to remind the reader that these women, the -_tricoteurs_, who used to sit round the foot of the guillotine on the -mornings when it was at its hideous work, were sometimes called the -"Furies;" but only as a grim jest. It is well known, that, although -there were occasionally some sanguinary hags among them, yet, for the -most part, they were merely idle, gossiping women, who came there -dressed in neat white caps, and with their knitting materials, out of -sheer love of excitement, and to enjoy the _spectacle_. - -_Pres._--Well, Goody; finish your history. - -_Old W._--I was married soon after this, and then I used to take my seat -as a _tricoteur_ among the others; and on the days when Monsieur de -Robespierre passed, he used always to notice me--_le pauvre, cher -homme_. I used then to be called _la belle tricoteuse_, but now--now, I -am called _la vielle radoteuse_ (the old dotardess). Ah, Monsieur le -President, it is what we must all come to! - -The old woman accompanied this reflection with an inimitable look at -the President, which completely involved him in the _we_, thus -presenting him with the prospect of becoming an old dotardess; not in -the least meant offensively, but said in the innocence of her aged -heart. - -_Pres._--Ahem!--silence! You seem to have a very tender recollection of -Monsieur Robespierre. I suppose you had reason to be grateful to him? - -_Old W._--No, Monsieur, no reason in particular; for he guillotined my -husband. - -_Pres._--Certainly this ought to be no reason for loving his memory. - -_Old W._--Ah, Monsieur, but it happened quite by accident. Monsieur de -Robespierre did not intend to guillotine my husband--he had him executed -by mistake for somebody else--_le pauvre, cher homme_! - -Thus leaving it an exquisite matter of doubt, as to whether the "poor -dear man" referred to her husband, or to Monsieur de Robespierre; or -whether the tender epithet was equally divided between them. - - - - -[From Chambers's Edinburgh Journal.] - -STORY OF A KITE. - - -The setting sun beamed in golden light over the country; long shadows -lay on the cool grass; the birds, which had been silent through the -sultry heat of the day, sang their joyous evening hymn: the merry voices -of the village children sounded through the clear air, while their -fathers loitered about enjoying the luxury of rest after labor. A -sun-burned traveler, with dusty shoes, walked sturdily along the high -road: he was young and strong, and his ruddy cheeks glowed in the warm -light: he carried his baggage on a stick over his shoulder, and looked -straight on toward the cottages of the village; and you might see, by -the expression of his face, that his eye was earnestly watching for the -first glimpse of the home that lay among them, to which he was -returning. - -The same setting sun threw his golden beams over the great metropolis: -they lighted up streets, and squares, and parks, whence crowds were -retiring from business or pleasure to their various places of abode or -gay parties: they pierced even through the smoke of the city, and gilded -its great central dome; but when they reached the labyrinth of lanes and -courts which it incloses, their radiance was gone, for noxious vapors -rose there after the heat of the day, and quenched them. The summer sun -is dreaded in those places. - -The dusky light found its way with difficulty through a small and dim -window into an upper room of a house in one of these lanes, and any one -entering it would at first have thought it was void of any living -inhabitant, had not the restless tossing and oppressed breathing that -proceeded from a bed in one corner borne witness to the contrary. A weak -sickly boy lay there, his eye fixed on the door. It opened, and he -started up in bed; but at the sight of another boy, a few years older -than himself, who came in alone, he sunk back again, crying in a -plaintive voice, "Don't you see her coming yet?" - -"No, she is not in sight: I ran to the corner of the lane, and could see -nothing of her," replied the elder boy, who, as he spoke, knelt down -before the grate, and began to arrange some sticks in it. - -Every thing in the room bespoke poverty; yet there was an appearance of -order, and as much cleanliness as can be attained in such an abode. -Among the scanty articles of furniture there was one object that was -remarkable as being singularly out of place, and apparently very useless -there: it was a large paper kite, that hung from a nail on the wall, and -nearly reached from the low ceiling to the floor. - -"There's eight o'clock just struck, John," said the little boy in bed. -"Go and look once more if mother's not coming yet." - -"It's no use looking, Jem. It won't make her come any faster; but I'll -go to please you." - -"I hear some one on the stairs." - -"It's only Mrs. Willis going into the back-room." - -"Oh dear, dear, what _shall_ I do?" - -"Don't cry, Jem. Look, now I've put the wood all ready to boil the -kettle the minute mother comes, and she'll bring you some tea: she said -she would. Now I'm going to sweep up the dust, and make it all tidy." - -Jem was quieted for a few minutes by looking at his brother's busy -operations, carried on in a bustling, rattling way, to afford all the -amusement possible; but the feverish restlessness soon returned. - -"Take me up, do take me up," he cried; "and hold me near the broken -pane, please, John;" and he stretched out his white, wasted hands. - -John kindly lifted out the poor little fellow, and dragging a chair to -the window, sat down with him on his knee, and held his face close to -the broken pane, through which, however, no air seemed to come, and he -soon began to cry again. - -"What is it, Jem?--what's the matter?" said a kind voice at the door, -where a woman stood, holding by the hand a pale child. - -"I want mother," sobbed Jem. - -"Mother's out at work, Mrs. Willis," said John; "and she thought she -should be home at half-past seven; but she's kept later sometimes." - -"Don't cry," said Mrs. Willis's little girl, coming forward. "Here's my -orange for you." - -Jem took it, and put it to his mouth; but he stopped, and asked John to -cut it in two; gave back half to the little girl, made John taste the -portion he kept, and then began to suck the cooling fruit with great -pleasure, only pausing to say, with a smile, "Thank you, Mary." - -"Now lie down again, and try to go to sleep; there's a good boy," said -Mrs. Willis; "and mother will soon be here. I must go now." - -Jem was laid in bed once more; but he tossed about restlessly, and the -sad wail began again. - -"I'll tell you what," said John, "if you will stop crying, I'll take -down poor Harry's kite, and show you how he used to fly it." - -"But mother don't like us to touch it." - -"No; but she will not mind when I tell her why I did it this once. Look -at the pretty blue and red figures on it. Harry made it, and painted it -all himself; and look at the long tail!" - -"But how did he fly it? Can't you show me how poor Harry used to fly -it?" - -John mounted on a chest, and holding the kite at arm's length, began to -wave it about, and to make the tail shake, while Jem sat up admiring. - -"This was the way he used to hold it up. Then he took the string that -was fastened here--mother has got it in the chest--and he held the -string in his hand, and when the wind came, and sent the kite up, he let -the string run through his hand, and up it went over the trees, -up--up--and he ran along in the fields, and it flew along under the blue -sky." - -John waved the kite more energetically as he described, and both the -boys were so engrossed by it, that they did not observe that the mother, -so longed for, had come in, and had sunk down on a chair near the door, -her face bent and nearly hidden by the rusty crape on her widow's -bonnet, while the tears fell fast on her faded black gown. - -"Oh mother, mother!" cried Jem, who saw her first, "come and take -me--come and comfort me!" - -The poor woman rose quickly, wiped her eyes, and hastened to her sick -child, who was soon nestled in her arms, and seemed to have there -forgotten all his woes. - -The kind, good-natured John had meanwhile hung up the kite in its place, -and was looking rather anxiously at his mother, for he well understood -the cause of the grief that had overcome her at the sight of his -occupation, when she first came in; but she stroked his hair, looked -kindly at him, and bade him make the kettle boil, and get the things out -of her basket. All that was wanted for their simple supper was in it, -and it was not long before little Jem was again laid down after the -refreshment of tea; then a mattress was put in a corner for John, who -was soon asleep; and the mother, tired with her day's hard work, took -her place in the bed by the side of her child. - -But the tears that had rolled fast down her cheeks as her lips moved in -prayer before sleep came upon her, still made their way beneath the -closed eyelids, and Jem awoke her by saying, as he stroked her face with -his hot hand, "Don't cry, mother; we won't touch it again!" - -"It's not that, my child; no, no: it's the thought of my own Harry. I -think I see his pleasant face, and his curly hair, and his merry eyes -looking up after his kite." It was not often she spoke out her griefs; -but now, in the silent night, it seemed to comfort her. - -"Tell me about him, mother, and about his going away? I like to hear you -tell about him." - -"He worked with father, you know, and a clever workman he learned to -be." - -"But he was much older than me. Shall I ever be a good workman, mother?" - -The question made her heart ache with a fresh anguish, and she could not -answer it; but replied to his first words, "Yes, he was much older. We -laid three of our children in the grave between him and John. Harry was -seventeen when his uncle took him to serve out his time in a -merchant-ship. Uncle Ben, that was ship's carpenter, it was that took -him.--The voyage was to last a year and a half, for they were to go to -all manner of countries far, far away. One letter I had. It came on a -sad day the day after poor father died, Jem. And then I had to leave our -cottage in our own village, and bring you two to London, to find work to -keep you; but I have always taken care to leave word where I was to be -found, and have often gone to ask after letters. Not one has ever come -again; and it's six months past the time when they looked for the ship, -and they don't know what to think. But I know what I think: the sea has -rolled over my dear boy, and I shall never see him again--never, never -in this weary world." - -"Don't cry so, mother dear; I'll try to go to sleep, and not make you -talk." - -"Yes--try; and if you can only get better, that will comfort me most." - -Both closed their eyes, and sleep came upon them once more. - -It was eight o'clock in the morning when the little boy awoke, and then -he was alone; but to that he was accustomed. His mother was again gone -to work, and John was out cleaning knives and shoes in the neighborhood. -The table, with a small piece of bread and a cup of blue milk and water -on it, stood beside him. He drank a little, but could not eat, and then -lay down again with his eyes fixed on Harry's kite. - -"Could he fly it," or rather, "could he see John fly it--really out of -doors and in the air?" That was of all things what he most longed to do. -He wondered where the fields were, and if he could ever go there and see -the kite fly under the blue sky. Then he wondered if John could fly it -in the lane. He crept out of bed, and tottered to the window. - -The lane was very wet and slushy, and a nasty black gutter ran down it, -and oozed out among the broken stones. There had been a heavy -thunder-shower in the night, and as there was no foot pavement, and what -stones there were, were very uneven and scattered, the black pools -lodged among them, and altogether it seemed impossible for a boy to fly -a kite there; for "how could he run along holding the string? he would -tumble among the dirty pools. There were only four children to be seen -in it now, out of all the numbers that lived in the houses, though it -was a warm summer morning, and they were dabbling with naked feet in the -mud, and their ragged clothes were all draggled. Mother would never let -him and John do like that." - -Still he stood, first examining the window, then looking at the kite; -then putting his hand out through the broken pane, and pondered over a -scheme that had entered his mind. - -"John," he cried, as the door opened, "don't you think we could fly -Harry's kite out of the broken pane?" - -At first this idea seemed to John perfectly chimerical; but after some -consultation and explanation a plan was devised between the two boys, to -complete which they only waited for their mother's return. They expected -her at one, for this was only half a day's work. - -Jem was dressed when she returned, and his excitement made him appear -better; but she saw with grief that he could not touch his dinner; and -her anxiety about him made her, less unwillingly than she otherwise -would have done, consent to the petition he made, that "only for this -once she would let him and John fly the kite outside the window." She -stifled her sigh as she sat down to needlework, lest she should cast a -gloom over the busy preparations that immediately commenced. - -The difficulty had been how to get the kite out, because the window -would not open. To surmount this, John was to go down to the lane, -taking the kite with him, while Jem lowered the string out of the broken -pane. - -"When you get hold of the string, you know, John, you can fasten it, and -then stand on that large stone opposite, just by where that gentleman -is, and hold up the kite, and then I will pull." - -All was done accordingly. John did his part well. Jem pulled; the kite -rose to the window, and fluttered about, for the thunder had been -followed by a high wind, which was felt a little even in this close -place, and the boys gazed at it with great pleasure. As it dangled -loosely by the window in this manner, the tail became entangled, and -John was obliged to run up to help to put it right. - -"Let it down to me again when I have run out," said he, as he tried to -disentangle it; "and I will stand on the stone, and hold it up, and you -can pull again. There's the gentleman still, and now there's a young man -besides. The gentleman has made him look up at the kite." - -"Come and look, mother," said Jem: but she did not hear. "The young man -has such a brown face, and such curly hair." - -"And he's like--mother, he is crossing over!" cried John. "He has come -into the house!" - -The mother heard now. A wild hope rushed through her heart; she started -up; a quick step was heard on the stairs; the door flew open, and the -next moment she was clasped in her son's arms! - -The joy nearly took away her senses. Broken words mingled with tears, -thanksgivings, and blessings, were all that were uttered for some time -between them. Harry had Jem on his knee, and John pressed close to his -side, and was holding his mother tight by the hand, and looking up in -her face, when at last they began to believe and understand that they -once more saw each other. And then he had to explain how the ship had -been disabled by a storm in the South Seas; and how they got her into -one of the beautiful islands there, and refitted her, and after six -months' delay, brought her back safe and sound, cargo and all; and how -he and Uncle Ben were both strong and hearty. - -"How well you look, my dear boy!" said the happy mother. "How tall, and -stout, and handsome you are!" - -"And he's got his curly hair and bright eyes still," said poor wan -little Jem, speaking for the first time. - -"But you, mother, and all of you, how pale you are, and how thin! I -know--yes, don't say it--I know who's gone. I went home last night, -mother. I walked all the way to the village, and found the poor cottage -empty, and heard how he died." - -"Home! You went there?" - -"Yes, and the neighbors told me you were gone to London. But I slept all -night in the kitchen, on some straw. There I lay, and thought of you, -and of him we have lost, and prayed that I might be a comfort to you -yet." - -Joy and sorrow seemed struggling for the mastery in the widow's heart; -but the present happiness proved the stronger, and she was soon smiling, -and listening to Harry. - -"I had a hard matter to find you," he said. "You had left the lodging -they directed me to at first." - -"But I left word where I had come to." - -"Ay, so you had; and an old woman there told me you were at No. 10 -Paradise Row." - -"What could she be thinking of?" - -"No one had heard of you in that place. However, as I was going along -back again to get better information, keeping a sharp look-out in hopes -I might meet you, I passed the end of this lane, and saw it was called -Eden-lane, so I thought perhaps the old lady had fancied Paradise and -Eden were all the same; and sure enough, they are both as like one as -the other, for they are wretched, miserable places as ever I saw. I -turned in here, and then No. 10 proved wrong too; and as I was standing -looking about, and wondering what I had better do next, a gentleman -touched my arm, and pointing first at the black pools in the broken -pavement, and then up at this window, he said--I remember his very -words, they struck me so--'Do not the very stones rise up in judgment -against us! Look at these poor little fellows trying to fly their kite -out of a broken pane!' Hearing him say so, I looked up, and saw my old -kite--by it I found you at last." - -They all turned gratefully toward it, and saw that it still swung -outside, held there safely by its entangled tail. The talk, therefore, -went on uninterruptedly. Many questions were asked and answered, and -many subjects discussed; the sad state of poor little Jem being the most -pressing. At the end of an hour a great bustle was going on in the room: -they were packing up all their small stock of goods, for Harry had -succeeded, after some argument, in persuading his mother to leave her -unhealthy lodging that very evening, and not to risk even one more night -for poor Jem in that poisonous air. He smoothed every difficulty. Mrs. -Willis gladly undertook to do the work she had engaged to do; and with -her he deposited money for the rent, and the key of the room. He -declared he had another place ready to take his mother to; and to her -anxious look he replied, "I did good service in the ship, and the owners -have been generous to us all. I've got forty pounds." - -"Forty pounds!" If he had said, "I have got possession of a gold -district in California," he would not have created a greater sensation. -It seemed an inexhaustible amount of wealth. - -A light cart was soon hired and packed, and easily held not only the -goods (not forgetting the kite), but the living possessors of them; and -they set forth on their way. - -The evening sun again beamed over the country; and the tall trees, as -they threw their shadow across the grass, waved a blessing on the family -that passed beneath, from whose hearts a silent thanksgiving went up -that harmonized with the joyous hymn of the birds. The sun-burnt -traveler, as he walked at the horse's head, holding his elder brother's -hand, no longer looked anxiously onward, for he knew where he was going, -and saw by him his younger brother already beginning to revive in the -fresh air, and rejoiced in his mother's expression of content and -happiness. She had divined for some time to what home she was going. - -"But how did you contrive to get it fixed so quickly, my kind, good -boy?" she said. - -"I went to the landlord, and he agreed at once: and do not be afraid, I -can earn plenty for us all." - -"But must you go to sea again?" - -"If I must, do not fear. Did you not always teach me that His hand would -keep me, and hold me, even in the uttermost parts of the sea?" - -And she felt that there was no room for fear. - -A week after this time, the evening sun again lighted up a happy party. -Harry and John were busied in preparing the kite for flying in a green -field behind their cottage. Under the hedge, on an old tree trunk, sat -their mother, no longer in faded black and rusty crape, but neatly -dressed in a fresh, clean gown and cap, and with a face bright with hope -and pleasure. By her was Jem, with cheeks already filling out, a tinge -of color in them, and eyes full of delight. On her other side was little -Mary Willis. She had just arrived, and was telling them how, the very -day after they left, some workmen came and put down a nice pavement on -each side of the lane, and laid a pipe underground instead of the -gutter; and that now it was as dry and clean as could be; and all the -children could play there, and there were such numbers of games going -on; and they all said it was the best thing they had done for them for -many a day; and so did their mothers too, for now the children were not -all crowded into their rooms all day long, but could play out of doors. - -"Depend upon it," said Harry, "it is that gentleman's doing that spoke -to me of it the day I came first. This good old kite has done good -service, and now it shall be rewarded by sailing up to a splendid -height." - -As he spoke, he held it up, the light breeze caught it, and it soared -away over their heads under the blue sky; while the happy faces that -watched it bore witness to the truth of his words--that "the good old -kite had done good service." - - - - -[From Sharp's Magazine.] - -THE STATE OF THE WORLD BEFORE ADAM'S TIME. - - -Among the millions of human beings that dwell on the earth, how few are -those who think of inquiring into its past history. The annals of Greece -and Rome are imparted to our children as a necessary and important -branch of education, while the history of the world itself is neglected, -or at the most is confined to those who are destined for a scientific -profession; even adults are content to receive on hearsay a vague idea -that the globe was in being for some undefined period preceding the era -of human history, but few seek to know in what state it existed, or what -appearance it presented. - -This is owing, partly, to the hard names and scientific language in -which geologists have clothed their science, and partly to ignorance of -the beauty and attractive nature of the study; we dread the long, -abstruse-sounding titles of Ichthyosaurus and Plesiosaurus, and are -repelled by the dry disquisitions on mineralogy into which professors of -the science are apt to stray. The truth is, however, that geology -properly is divided into two distinct branches; one of these consists of -the less attractive, though equally useful, investigation of the -chemical constituents of the strata, and the classification of the -fossil flora and fauna which belong to the various formations; this, -which may be styled geology proper, is the department which belongs -almost exclusively to men of science, and, inasmuch as it involves the -necessity of acquaintance with the sister sciences of chemistry, -mineralogy, zoology, and botany, is least adapted to the understanding -of the uninitiated. The other branch, which may be called the history of -geology, presents none of these difficulties; it is as easy of -comprehension, and as suitable to the popular mind, as any other -historical account; while it presents a variety of interest, and a -revolution of events, before which the puny annals of modern history -sink into insignificance. - -Such of our readers as are unacquainted with the science, will probably -be inclined to doubt the possibility of our being aware of events which -took place ages before Adam was created; here, however, nature herself -steps in, and becoming her own historian, writes "in the living rock" -the chronicles of past ages, and so accurately and circumstantially, -that we can say positively, "Here existed the sea at such a period, and -here the tide ebbed and flowed for centuries;" nay, she shows us the -footmarks of extinct animals, and tells us the size, nature, habits, and -food of creatures which have for unnumbered ages been buried in the -grave of time. She informs us that here the ocean was calm, and that -there a river flowed into it; here forests grew and flourished, and -there volcanoes vomited forth lava, while mighty earthquakes heaved up -mountains with convulsive throes. Such are the events that mark the -world's history, and we now purpose giving a short sketch of the various -eras in its existence. - -Hundreds of thousands of years ago, the earth, now so busy and full of -life, rolled on its ceaseless course, a vast, desolate, and sterile -globe. Day and night succeeded one another, and season followed season, -while yet no living form existed, and still the sun rose upon arid, -verdureless continents, and hot, caldron-like seas, on which the -steaming vapor and heavy fogs sat like an incubus. This is the earliest -period of which we glean any positive record, and it is probable that -previous to this era the universe was in a state of incandescence, or -intense heat, and that by the gradual cooling of the globe, the external -surface became hard, and formed a firm crust, in the same manner that -molten lead, when exposed to the cold air, hardens on the surface. The -vapors which previously floated around this heated mass, in like manner -became partially condensed, and gradually accumulating in the hollows, -formed the boiling seas which in after ages were destined to be vast -receptacles teeming with life. - -How long such a period continued it is impossible to say, and were we -even able to number its years, we should in all probability obtain a -total of such magnitude as would render us unable to form any accurate -idea of its extent. Our ideas of time, like those of space, are -comparative, and so immense was this single period in geological -history, that any interval taken from human records would fail to -present an adequate idea of it. - -As might be expected, this era was marked by vast and violent -convulsions; volcanoes raged and threw up molten granite, earthquakes -heaved and uplifted continents, seas were displaced and inundated the -land, and still the earth was enveloped in vapor and mist, arising from -the high temperature, and the light most probably penetrated only -sufficiently to produce a sickly twilight, while the sun shot lurid rays -through the dense and foggy atmosphere. Such a world must have been -incompatible with either animal or vegetable life, and we accordingly -find no remains of either in the rocks which belong to this early -period; their principal characteristic is a highly crystalline -appearance, giving strong presumptive evidence of the presence of great -heat. - -After this era of desolation and gloom, we enter upon what is -technically termed the "Transition period," and here we begin to mark -the gradual preparation of the globe for the reception of its destined -inhabitants. The change is, however, at first very slight, and there is -evidence of frequent convulsions and of a high degree of temperature; -but the action of fire appears to have declined in force, and aqueous -agencies are exerting themselves. The earlier portion of this formation -is rendered peculiarly interesting by the fact, that during it the most -ancient forms of life sprang into existence. It is true that merely a -few species of shell-fish, with some corals, inhabited the depths of the -ocean, while the dry land still remained untenanted; nevertheless, -humble and scanty as they were, we can not fail to look with interest on -the earliest types of that existence, which has subsequently reached -such perfection in ourselves. - -The presence of corals shows, that although the transition seas had lost -their high temperature, yet they retained a sufficient degree of heat to -encourage the development of animals requiring warmth. These minute -animals possess the remarkable property of extracting from the -elementary bodies held in solution in the waters, the materials for -forming new rocks. To the coral animalcule or polype we owe much of the -vast limestone beds which are found in every part of the world, and many -a vessel laden with the riches and productions of the earth finds a -grave on the sunken reefs that are the fruit of its labors. - -As ages elapsed, and the universe became better adapted for the -reception of life, the waters swarmed with zoophytes and corals, and in -the silurian strata we find organic remains abundant; shell-fish are -numerous and distinct in form, and in some instances display a very -interesting anatomical construction. As an instance we may mention the -Trilobite, an animal of the crustacean order; the front part of its body -formed a large crescent-shaped shield, while the hinder portion -consisted of a broad triangular tail, composed of segments folding over -each other like the tail of a lobster; its most peculiar organ, however, -was the eye, which was composed of four hundred minute spherical lenses -placed in separate compartments, and so situated, that in the animal's -usual place at the bottom of the ocean it could see every thing around. -This kind of eye is also common to the existing butterfly and -dragon-fly, the former of which has 35,000, and the latter 14,000 -lenses. - -Continuing to trace the history of this ancient period, we reach what is -called among geologists the Old Red Sandstone age. The corals, and the -shell-fish, and the crustacea of the former period have passed away, and -in their place we find _fishes_; thus presenting to us the earliest -trace of the highest order of the animal kingdom--vertebrata. The plants -in this system are few, and it would seem as if the condition of the -world was ill-adapted for their growth. Another peculiar characteristic -of this era is the state of calm repose in which the ocean appears to -have remained; in many rocks the _ripple mark_ left by the tide on the -shores of the ancient seas is clearly visible; nevertheless considerable -volcanic action must have taken place, if we are to believe geologists, -who find themselves unable to account otherwise for the preponderance of -mineral matter which seems to have been held in solution by the waters. - -We now pass on to the Carboniferous period, and a marked change at once -strikes us as having taken place. In the previous era few plants appear -to have existed; now they flourished with unrivaled luxuriance. Ferns, -cacti, gigantic equisetums, and many plants of which there are no -existing types, grew, and lived, and died in vast impenetrable forests; -while the bulrush and the cane, or genera nearly allied to them, -occupied the swamps and lowlands. This is the period when the great coal -beds and strata of ironstone were deposited, which supply us with fuel -for our fires, and materials for our machinery. The interminable forests -that grew and died in the lapse of centuries were gradually borne down -by the rivers and torrents to the ocean, at whose bottom they ultimately -found a resting place. A considerable portion of the land also seems to -have been slowly submerged, as in some cases fossil trees and plants are -found in an upright position, as they originally grew. - -There is no period in geological history so justly deserving of -examination as this. To the coal beds then deposited Great Britain in a -great measure owes national and mercantile greatness. Dr. Buckland, in -speaking of this remote age, remarks in his Bridgewater Treatise, that -"the important uses of coal and iron in administering to the supply of -our daily wants, give to every individual among us, in almost every -moment of our lives, a personal concern, of which but few are conscious, -in the geological events of these very distant eras. We are all brought -into immediate connection with the vegetation that clothed the ancient -earth before one half of its actual surface had yet been formed. The -trees of the primeval forests have not, like modern trees, undergone -decay, yielding back their elements to the soil and atmosphere by which -they have been nourished; but treasured up in subterranean store-houses, -have been transformed into enduring beds of coal, which in these latter -ages have been to man the sources of heat, and light, and wealth. My -fire now burns with fuel, and my lamp is shining with the light of gas -derived from coal, that has been buried for countless ages in the deep -and dark recesses of the earth. We prepare our food, and maintain our -forges and furnaces, and the power of our steam-engines, with the -remains of plants of ancient forms and extinct species, which were swept -from the earth ere the formation of the transition strata was completed. -Our instruments of cutlery, the tools of our mechanics, and the -countless machines which we construct by the infinitely varied -applications of iron, are derived from ore, for the most part coeval -with, or more ancient than the fuel, by the aid of which we reduce it to -its metallic state, and apply it to innumerable uses in the economy of -human life. Thus, from the wreck of forests that waved upon the surface -of the primeval lands, and from ferruginous mud that was lodged at the -bottom of the primeval waters, we derive our chief supplies of coal and -iron, those two fundamental elements of art and industry, which -contribute more than any other mineral production of the earth to -increase the riches, and multiply the comforts, and ameliorate the -condition of mankind." - -This may justly be styled the golden age of the pre-adamite world; the -globe having now cooled to a sufficient temperature to promote the -growth of plants without being injurious to them, is for the first time -clothed in all the rich verdure of a tropical climate. Doubtless the -earth would have presented a lovely aspect, had it been possible to have -beheld it; the mighty forests unawakened by a sound save that of the -sighing of the wind; the silent seas, in which the new-born denizens of -the deep roamed at will; the vast inland lakes for ages unruffled but by -the fitful breeze; all present to the mind's eye a picture of -surpassing, solitary grandeur. - -The creatures that existed, though differing from those of the previous -age, were still confined to the waters; as yet the dry land remained -untenanted. The fishes give evidence of a higher organization, and many -of them appear to have been of gigantic dimensions. Some teeth which -have been found of one kind, the Megalichthys, equal in size those of -the largest living crocodiles. - -There is one peculiarity respecting fossil fishes which is worthy of -remark. It is that, in the lapse of time from one era to another, their -character does not change _insensibly_, as in the case of many zoophytes -and testacea; on the contrary, species seem to succeed species -_abruptly_, and at certain definite intervals. A celebrated -geologist[22] has observed, that not a single species of fossil fish has -yet been found that is common to any two great geological formations, or -that is living in our own seas. - -Continuing our investigation, we next find the fruitful coal era passing -away; scarcely a trace of vegetation remains; a few species of -zoophytes, shells, and fishes are to be found, and we observe the -impression of footsteps, technically called _ichnites_, from the Greek -_ichnon_, a footmark. These marks present a highly interesting memento -of past ages. Persons living near the sea-shore must have frequently -observed the distinctness with which the track of birds and other -animals is imprinted in the sand. If this sand were to be hardened by -remaining exposed to the action of the sun and air, it would form a -perfect mould of the foot; this is exactly what occurred in these early -ages, and the hollow becoming subsequently filled by the deposition of -new sediment, the lower stone retained the impression, while the upper -one presented a cast in relief. Many fossil footmarks have been found in -the rocks belonging to this period. - -It is evident from the fact of footmarks being found, that creatures -capable of existing on dry land were formed about this time, and we -accordingly find the remains of a new order--Reptiles. These animals, -which now constitute but a small family among existing quadrupeds, then -flourished in great size and numbers. Crocodiles and lizards of various -forms and gigantic stature roamed through the earth. Some of the most -remarkable are those which belong to the genus Ichthyosaurus, or -fish-lizard, so called from the resemblance of their vertebræ to those -of fishes. This saurian Dr. Buckland describes as something similar in -form to the modern porpoise; it had four broad feet, and a long and -powerful tail; its jaws were so prodigious that it could probably expand -them to a width of five or six feet, and its powers of destruction must -have been enormous. The length of some of these reptiles exceeded thirty -feet. - -Another animal which lived at this period was the Plesiosaurus. It lived -in shallow seas and estuaries, and would seem, from its organs of -respiration, to have required frequent supplies of fresh air. Mr. -Conybeare describes it as "swimming upon, or near the surface, arching -its long neck like the swan, and occasionally darting it down at the -fish which happened to float within its reach." - -This reptile, which was smaller than the Ichthyosaurus, has been found -as long as from twelve to fifteen feet. Its appearance and habits -differed from the latter materially. The Ichthyosaurus, with its short -neck, powerful jaws, and lizard-like body, seems admirably suited to -range through the deep waters, unrivaled in size or strength, and -monarch of the then existing world; the Plesiosaurus, smaller in size -and inferior in strength, shunned its powerful antagonist, and, lurking -in shallows and sheltered bays, remained secure from the assaults of its -dangerous foe, its long neck and small head being well adapted to enable -it to dart on its prey, as it lay concealed amid the tangled sea-weed. - -This has been called by geologists the "age of reptiles;" their remains -are found in great numbers in the lias, oolite, and wealden strata. -These creatures seem to form a connecting link between the fishes of -the previous era, and the mammalia of the Tertiary age; the -Ichthyosaurus differed little from a fish in shape, and its paddles or -feet are not unlike fins, the Plesiosaurus, on the contrary, as its name -denotes, partook more of the quadruped form. Dr. Buckland in describing -it, says: "To the head of a lizard it united the teeth of a crocodile; a -neck of enormous length, resembling the body of a serpent; a trunk and -tail having the proportions of an ordinary quadruped; the ribs of a -cameleon, and the paddles of a whale." Besides these animals we find the -Pterodactyle, half bird and half reptile; the Megalosaurus, or gigantic -lizard; the Hylæosaurus, or forest lizard; the Geosaurus, or land -lizard, and many others, all partaking more or less of affinity to both -the piscatory and saurian tribes. - -Passing on now to the period when the great chalk rocks which prevail so -much in the southeastern counties of Great Britain were deposited, we -find the land in many places submerged; the fossil remains are eminently -marine in character, and the earth must literally have presented a -"world of waters" to the view. Sponges, corals, star-fish, and marine -reptiles inhabited the globe, and plants, chiefly of marine types, grew -on its surface. Although, however, a great portion of the earth was -under water, it must not therefore be supposed that it was returning to -its ancient desolation and solitude. The author whom we last quoted, in -speaking of this subject, says: "The sterility and solitude which have -sometimes been attributed to the depths of the ocean, exist only in the -fictions of poetic fancy. The great mass of water that covers nearly -three-fourths of the globe is crowded with life, perhaps more abundantly -than the air and the surface of the earth; and the bottom of the sea, -within a certain depth accessible to light, swarms with countless hosts -of worms and creeping things, which represent the kindred families of -low degree which crawl upon the land." - -This era seems to have been one of peculiar tranquillity, for the most -part undisturbed by earthquakes or other igneous forces. The prevailing -characteristic of the scenery was flatness, and low continents were -surrounded by shallow seas. The earth is now approaching the state when -it will be fit for the reception of man, and in the next age we find -some of the existing species of animals. - -It is worthy of observation, that at the different periods when the -world had attained a state suitable for their existence, the various -orders of animal and vegetable life were created. In the "dark ages" of -geological history, when the globe had comparatively lately subsided -from a state of fusion,[23] it was barren, sterile, and uninhabited; -next, the waters having become cool enough, some of the lowest orders of -shell-fish and zoophytes peopled them; subsequently, fishes were formed, -and for ages constituted the highest order of animal life; after this -we enter on the age of reptiles, when gigantic crocodiles and -lizard-like forms dwelt in fenny marshes, or reposed on the black mud of -slow moving rivers, as they crept along toward the ocean betwixt their -oozy banks; and we now reach the period when the noblest order of animal -life, the class to which man himself belongs, Mammalia, began to people -the earth. - -The world now probably presented an appearance nearly similar to what it -does at present. The land, which in the chalk formation was under water, -has again emerged, and swarms with life; vast savannahs rich in verdure, -and decked in a luxuriant garb with trees, plants, grasses, and shrubs, -and inland lakes, to which the elephant, the rhinoceros, and the -hippopotamus, with many extinct races of animals, came to slake their -thirst, form the principal characteristics of this period. - -There is something peculiarly interesting in looking back to this early -age, while Adam was yet dust. We picture to the mind's eye the gigantic -Deinotherium, the largest creature of terrestrial life, raking and -grabbing with its huge tusks the aquatic plants that grew in the pools -and shallow lakes, or, as Dr. Buckland describes it, sleeping with its -head hooked on to the bank, and its nostrils sustained above water so as -merely to breathe, while the body remained floating at ease beneath the -surface. We see its twin-brother in greatness, the Megatherium, as it -comes slowly stalking through the thick underwood, its foot, of a yard -in length, crushing where it treads, and its impenetrable hide defying -the attacks of rhinoceros or crocodile. In the waters we behold the -mighty whale, monarch of the deep, sporting in the pre-adamite seas as -he now does amid the icebergs of the Arctic ocean; the walrus and the -seal, now denizens of the colder climes, mingling with the tropical -manati; while in the forests the owl, the buzzard, and the woodcock, -dwelt undisturbed, and the squirrel and monkey leaped from bough to -bough. - -Arrived at the close of the pre-adamite history, after having traced it -from the earliest ages of which we possess any evidence, down to the eve -of human existence, the reflection that naturally presents itself to the -mind is the strangeness of the fact, that myriads of creatures should -have existed, and that generation after generation should have lived and -died and passed away, ere yet man saw the light. We are so accustomed to -view all creatures as created solely for human use, rather than for the -pleasure of the Divine Creator, that we can at first scarcely credit the -history, though written by the hand of nature herself; and the human -race sinks into insignificance when it is shown to be but the last link -in a long chain of creations. Nevertheless, that such, however humbling -it may be, is the fact, we possess indubitable evidence: and when we -consider, as Mr. Bakewell observes, "that more than three-fifths of the -earth's present surface are covered by the ocean, and that if from the -remainder we deduct the space occupied by polar ice and eternal snows, -by sandy deserts, sterile mountains, marshes, rivers, and lakes, that -the habitable portion will scarcely exceed one-fifth of the whole globe; -that the remaining four-fifths, though untenanted by mankind, are, for -the most part, abundantly stocked with animated beings, that exult in -the pleasure of existence, independent of human control, and in no way -subservient to the necessities or caprices of men; that such is and has -been, for several thousand years, the actual condition of our planet; we -may feel less reluctance in admitting the prolonged ages of creation, -and the numerous tribes that lived and flourished, and left their -remains imbedded in the strata which compose the outer crust of the -earth." - - - FOOTNOTES: - - [22] Dr. Buckland. - - [23] The theory of the original incandescence of the earth has - been much debated, but we believe it is gaining ground among - geologists. - - - - -THE MANIA FOR TULIPS IN HOLLAND. - - -The inordinate passion, which at one time prevailed for Tulips, amounted -to actual madness, and well deserved the name of Tulipomania, by which -it is distinguished. The Tulip was introduced into Europe from -Constantinople in the year 1559, according to Gesner. After it became -known to the Dutch merchants and nobility at Vienna, it became a most -important branch of trade in Holland, and they sent frequently to -Constantinople for roots and seeds of the flower. In the year 1634, and -for three years after, little else was thought of in Holland but this -traffic; all embarked in it, from the nobleman to the common laborer, -and so successful were many that they rose rapidly from abject poverty -to affluence; and those who had been barely able to procure the most -scanty means of subsistence were enabled to set up their carriages, and -enjoy every convenience and luxury of life; indeed, when we read of the -enormous sums paid for a single root, we can feel no surprise at the -immense and rapid fortunes which were made. It is on record, that one -wealthy merchant gave his daughter no other portion to secure an -eligible match than a single root. The plant to this day bears the name -of the "marriage portion." We find that 2 hogsheads of wine, 4 tuns of -beer, 2 lasts of wheat, 4 lasts of rye, 2 tons of butter, 1000 pounds of -cheese, 4 fat oxen, 8 fat swine, and 12 fat sheep, a complete bed, a -suit of clothes, a silver beckess, valued at 2500 florins, were given in -exchange for a single root of the tulip called the Viceroy. This mode of -barter, being attended with inconvenience, could not be general, and -gave place to sale by weight, by which immense sums were made. Single -roots have sold for 4400 florins; 2000 florins was a common price for a -root of the Semper Augustus; and it happened that once, when only two -roots of this species could be procured, the one at Amsterdam, and the -other at Haarlem, 4600 florins, a new carriage, and a pair of horses, -with complete harness, were given for one; and for the other an exchange -made of 12 acres of land: indeed, land was frequently parted with when -cash could not be advanced for the purchase of a desired root; and -houses, cattle, furniture, and even clothes, were all sacrificed to the -Tulipomania. In the course of four months, a person has been known to -realize 60,000 florins. These curious bargains took place in taverns, -where notaries and clerks were regularly paid for attending; and after -the contracts were completed, the traders of all ranks sat down together -to a splendid entertainment. At these sales, the usual price of a root -of the Viceroy was £250; a root of the Admiral Liefkuns, £440; a root of -the Admiral Von Eyk, £160; a root of the Grebbu, £148; a root of the -Schilder, £160; a root of the Semper Augustus, £550. A collection of -Tulips of Wouter Brockholsminster was disposed of by his executors for -£9000; but they sold a root of the Semper Augustus separately, for which -they got £300, and a very fine Spanish cabinet, valued at £1000. The -Semper Augustus was, indeed, in great request. A gentleman received -£3000 for three roots which he sold; he had also the offer of £1500 a -year for his plant for seven years, with an engagement that it should be -given up as found, the increase alone having been retained during the -period. One gentleman made £6000 in the space of six months. It was -ascertained that the trade in Tulips in one city alone, in Holland, -amounted to £1,000,000 sterling. To such an extent was this -extraordinary traffic carried on, that a system of stock-jobbing was -introduced; and Tulips, which were bought and sold for much more than -their weight in gold, were nominally purchased without changing hands at -all. Beekmann, in describing this curious traffic, for which all other -merchandise and pursuit was neglected, mentions that engagements were -entered into, which were to be fulfilled in six months, and not to be -affected by any change in the value of the root during that time. Thus, -a bargain might be made with a merchant for a root at the price of 1000 -florins. At the time specified for its delivery, its value may have -risen to 1500 florins, the purchaser being a gainer of 500 florins. -Should it, on the contrary, have fallen to 800 florins, the purchaser -was then a loser to the amount of 200 florins. If there had been no -fluctuation in the market, the bargain terminated without an exchange of -the money for the root, so that it became a species of gambling, at -which immense sums were lost and won. The decline of the trade was as -unexpected as its rise had been surprising. When settling day came, -there were many defaulters; some from inability to meet their -engagements, and many from dishonesty. Persons began to speculate more -cautiously, and the more respectable to feel that the system of -gambling, in which they were engaged, was by no means creditable. The -Tulip-holders then wished to dispose of their merchandise really, and -not _nominally_, but found, to their disappointment, that the demand had -decreased. Prices fell--contracts were violated--appeals were made to -the magistrates in vain; and, after violent contentions, in which the -venders claimed, and the purchasers resisted payment, the state -interposed, and issued an order invalidating the contracts, which put an -end at once to the stock-jobbing; and the roots, which had been valued -at £500 each, were now to be had for £5: and thus ended the most strange -commerce in which Europe had been ever engaged. - -Some curious anecdotes connected with the mania may be found. Among them -is one of a burgomaster, who had made interest for a friend, and -succeeded in obtaining a very lucrative situation for him. The friend, -anxious to testify his gratitude, entreated of the burgomaster to allow -him to show it by some substantial proof. His generous benefactor would -accept no favor in return; all he asked was the gratification of seeing -his flower-garden, which was readily granted. The friends did not meet -again for two years. At the end of that time, the gentleman went to -visit the burgomaster. On going into his garden, the first thing that -attracted his observation was a rare Tulip of great value, which he -instantly knew must have been purloined from his garden, when his -treacherous friend had been admitted into it, two years before. He gave -vent to the most frantic passion--immediately resigned his place of -£1000 per annum--returned to his house merely to tear up his -flower-garden--and, having completed the work of destruction, left it, -never to return. - -We have read of a sailor, who had brought a heavy load to the warehouse -of a merchant, who only gave him a herring as payment and refreshment. -This was very inadequate to satisfy the man's hunger, but perceiving, as -he thought, some onions lying before him, he snatched up one, and bit -it. It happened to be a Tulip-root, worth a king's ransom; so we may -conceive the consternation of the merchant, which is said to have nearly -deprived him of reason. - -It has been said that John Barclay, the author of the romance of -"Angenis," was a victim to the Tulipomania. Nothing could induce him to -quit the house to which his flower-garden was attached, though the -situation was so unwholesome that he ran the risk of having his health -destroyed. He kept two fierce mastiffs to guard the flowers, which he -determined never to abandon. - -The passion for Tulips was at its height in England toward the close of -the seventeenth and the commencement of the eighteenth century. The -tulip is a native of the Levant, and of many of the eastern countries. -Though common in Persia, it is highly esteemed, and considered an emblem -of love. Chardin tells us, that when a young Persian wishes to make his -sentiments known to his mistress, he presents her with one of these -flowers, which, of course, must be the flame-colored one, with black -anthers, so often seen in our gardens; as, Chardin adds, "He thus gives -her to understand, that he is all on fire with her beauty, and his -heart burned to a coal." The flower is still highly esteemed by -florists, and has its place among the few named florists' flowers. Many -suppose it to be "the Lily of the Field," mentioned in the Sermon on the -Mount, from its growing in wild profusion in Syria, and from the extreme -delicacy of the texture of its petals, and from the wonderful variety -and dazzling beauty of its colors. It may be so; and the flower acquires -from this an interest which nothing else could give. - - - - -THE SALT MINES OF EUROPE. - - -The salt-mines of Cheshire, and the brine-pits of Worcestershire, -according to the best authority, not only supply salt sufficient for the -consumption of nearly the whole of England, but also upward of half a -million of tons for exportation. Rock-salt is by no means confined to -England, it is found in many countries, especially where strata of more -recent date than those of the coal measures abound. Though in some -instances the mineral is pure and sparkling in its native state, it is -generally dull and dirty, owing to the matter with which it is -associated. The ordinary shade is a dull red, from being in contact with -marls of that color. But notwithstanding, it possesses many interesting -features. When the extensive subterranean halls have been lighted up -with innumerable candles, the appearance is most interesting, and the -visitor, enchanted with the scene, feels himself richly repaid for the -trouble he may have incurred in visiting the excavations. - -The Cheshire mines are from 50 to 150 yards below the surface. The -number of salt-beds is five; the thinnest of them being only about six -inches, while the thickest is nearly forty feet. Besides these vast -masses, there is a large quantity of salt mixed up with the marl beds -that intervene. The method of working the rock-salt is like that adopted -for the excavation of coal; but it is much more safe and pleasant to -visit these than the other, owing to the roof of the excavations being -much more secure, and the absence of all noxious gases, with the -exception of carbonic acid gas. In the thinner coal-seams, the roof, or -rock lying above the coal, is supported by wooden pillars as the mineral -is withdrawn; while, in the thicker seams, pillars of coal are left at -intervals to support the superincumbent mass. The latter is the plan -adopted in the salt-mines. Large pillars of various dimensions are left -to support the roof at irregular intervals; but these bear a small -proportion to the mass of mineral excavated. The effect is most -picturesque; in the deep gloom of the excavation, the pillars present -tangible objects on which the eye can rest, while the intervening spaces -stretch away into night. The mineral is loosened from the rock by -blasting, and the effect of the explosions, heard from time to time -re-echoing through the wide spaces, and from the distant walls of rock, -gives a peculiar grandeur and impressiveness to the scene. The great -charm, indeed, on the occasion of a visit to these mines, even when they -are illuminated by thousands of lights, is chiefly owing to the gloomy -and cavernous appearance, the dim endless perspective, broken by the -numerous pillars, and the lights half disclosing and half concealing the -deep recesses which are formed and terminated by these monstrous and -solid projections. The pillars, owing to the great height of the roof, -are very massive. For twenty feet of rock they are about fifteen feet -thick. The descent to the mines is by a shaft--a perpendicular opening -of six, eight, or ten feet square; this opening is used for the general -purposes of ventilation, drainage, lifting the mineral, as well as the -miners. It varies in dimensions according to the extent of the -excavations. In some of the English mines the part of the bed of -rock-salt excavated amounts to several acres; but in some parts of -Europe the workings are even more extensive. The Wilton mine, one of the -largest in England, is worked 330 feet below the surface, and from it, -and one or two adjacent mines, upward of 60,000 tons of salt are -annually obtained, two-thirds of which are immediately exported, and the -rest is dissolved in water, and afterward reduced to a crystaline state -by evaporating the solution. It is not yet two hundred years since the -Cheshire mines were discovered. In the year 1670, before men were guided -by science in their investigations, an attempt was made to find coal in -the district. The sinking was unsuccessful relative to the one mineral, -but the disappointment and loss were amply met by the discovery of the -other. From that time till the present, the rock-salt has been dug, and, -as we have seen, most extensively used in England, while the surplus -supply has become an article of exportation. Previous to this discovery -the consumption was chiefly supplied from the brine-pits of -Worcestershire. - -There is a remarkable deposit of salt in the valley of Cardona, in the -Pyrenees. Two thick masses of rock-salt, says Ansted, apparently united -at their bases, make their appearance on one of the slopes of the hill -of Cardona. One of the beds, or rather masses, has been worked, and -measures about 130 yards by 250; but its depth has not been determined. -It consists of salt in a laminated condition, and with confused -crystalization. That part which is exposed is composed of eight beds, -nearly horizontal, having a total thickness of fifteen feet; but the -beds are separated from one another by red and variegated marls and -gypsum. The second mass, not worked, appears to be unstratified, but in -other respects resembles the former; and this portion, where it has been -exposed to the action of the weather, is steeply scarped, and bristles -with needle-like points, so that its appearance has been compared to -that of a glacier. There is also an extensive salt-mine at Wieliczka, in -Poland, and the manner of working it was accurately described some years -since. The manner of descending into the mine was by means of a large -cord wound round a wheel and worked by a horse. The visitor, seated on a -small piece of wood placed in the loop of the cord, and grasping the -cord with both hands, was let down two hundred feet, the depth of the -first galleries, through a shaft about eight feet square, sunk through -beds of sand, alternating with limestone, gypsum, variegated marls, and -calcareous schists. Below the stage, the descent was by wooden -staircases, nine or ten feet wide. In the first gallery was a chapel, -measuring thirty feet in length by twenty-four in breadth, and eighteen -in height; every part of it, the floor, the roof, the columns which -sustained the roof, the altar, the crucifix, and several statues, were -all cut out of the solid salt; the chapel was for the use of the miners. -It had always been said that the salt in this mine had the qualities -which produced magic appearances to an uncommon degree; but it is now -ascertained that its scenery is not more enchanting than that of the -mines in Cheshire. Gunpowder is now used in the Polish as in the English -mines; but the manner of obtaining the salt at the time of the visit we -are recording was peculiar, and too ingenious to be passed over, even -though it be now superseded by the more modern and more successful mode -of blasting. "In the first place, the overman, or head miner, marked the -length, breadth, and thickness of a block he wished to be detached, the -size of which was generally the same, namely, about eight feet long, -four feet wide, and two feet thick. A certain number of blocks being -marked, the workman began by boring a succession of holes on one side -from top to bottom of the block, the holes being three inches deep, and -six inches apart. A horizontal groove was then cut, half an inch deep, -both above and below, and, having put into each of the holes an iron -wedge, all the wedges were struck with moderate blows, to drive them -into the mass; the blows were continued until two cracks appeared, one -in the direction of the line of the holes, and the other along the upper -horizontal line. The block was now loosened and ready to fall, and the -workman introduced into the crack produced by the driving of the wedges -a wooden ruler, two or three inches broad, and, moving it backward and -forward on the crack, a tearing sound was soon heard, which announced -the completion of the work. If proper care had been taken, the block -fell unbroken, and was then divided into three or four parts, which were -shaped into cylinders for the greater convenience of transport. Each -workman was able to work out four such blocks every day, and the whole -number of persons employed in the mine, varied from twelve hundred to -about two thousand." The mine was worked in galleries; and, at the time -of this visit, these galleries extended to at least eight English miles. -Since then the excavations have become much more extensive. - -The method of preparing rock-salt is very simple, and differs little -from that employed in manufacturing salt from springs. The first step -in the process is, to obtain a proper strength of brine, by saturating -fresh water with the salt brought from the mine. The brine obtained in a -clear state is put into evaporating pans, and brought as quickly as -possible to a boiling heat, when a skin is formed on the surface, -consisting chiefly of impurities. This skin is taken off, so also are -the first crystals that are formed, and either thrown aside as useless, -or used for agricultural purposes. The heat is kept at the boiling point -for eight hours, during which period evaporation is going on--the liquid -becoming gradually reduced, and the salt meanwhile is being deposited. -When this part of the process is finished, the salt is raked out, put -into moulds, and placed in a drying stove, where it is dried perfectly, -and made ready for the market. - - - - -MY NOVEL; OR, VARIETIES IN ENGLISH LIFE. - -(_Continued from page 672._) - - -CHAPTER X. - -In my next chapter I shall present Squire Hazeldean in patriarchal -state--not exactly under the fig tree he has planted, but before the -stocks he has reconstructed. Squire Hazeldean and his family on the -village green! The canvas is all ready for the colors. - -But in this chapter I must so far afford a glimpse into antecedents as -to let the reader know that there is one member of the family whom he is -not likely to meet at present, if ever, on the village green at -Hazeldean. - -Our squire lost his father two years after his birth; his mother was -very handsome--and so was her jointure; she married again at the -expiration of her year of mourning--the object of her second choice was -Colonel Egerton. - -In every generation of Englishmen (at least since the lively reign of -Charles II.) there are a few whom some elegant Genius skims off from the -milk of human nature, and reserves for the cream of society. Colonel -Egerton was one of these _terque, quaterque beati_, and dwelt apart on a -top shelf in that delicate porcelain dish--not bestowed upon vulgar -buttermilk--which persons of fashion call The Great World. Mighty was -the marvel of Pall Mall, and profound was the pity of Park-lane, when -this supereminent personage condescended to lower himself into a -husband. But Colonel Egerton was not a mere gaudy butterfly; he had the -provident instincts ascribed to the bee. Youth had passed from him--and -carried off much solid property in its flight; he saw that a time was -fast coming when a home, with a partner who could help to maintain it, -would be conducive to his comforts, and an occasional humdrum evening by -the fire-side beneficial to his health. In the midst of one season at -Brighton, to which gay place he had accompanied the Prince of Wales, he -saw a widow who, though in the weeds of mourning, did not appear -inconsolable. Her person pleased his taste--the accounts of her -jointure satisfied his understanding; he contrived an introduction, and -brought a brief wooing to a happy close. The late Mr. Hazeldean had so -far anticipated the chance of the young widow's second espousals, that, -in case of that event, he transferred, by his testamentary dispositions, -the guardianship of his infant heir from the mother to two squires whom -he had named his executors. This circumstance combined with her new ties -somewhat to alienate Mrs. Hazeldean from the pledge of her former loves; -and when she had borne a son to Colonel Egerton, it was upon that child -that her maternal affections gradually concentrated. - -William Hazeldean was sent by his guardians to a large provincial -academy, at which his forefathers had received their education time out -of mind. At first he spent his holidays with Mrs. Egerton; but as she -now resided either in London, or followed her lord to Brighton to -partake of the gayeties at the Pavilion--so, as he grew older, William, -who had a hearty affection for country life, and of whose bluff manners -and rural breeding Mrs. Egerton (having grown exceedingly refined) was -openly ashamed, asked and obtained permission to spend his vacations -either with his guardians or at the old Hall. He went late to a small -college at Cambridge, endowed in the fifteenth century by some ancestral -Hazeldean; and left it, on coming of age, without taking a degree. A few -years afterward he married a young lady, country born and bred like -himself. - -Meanwhile his half-brother, Audley Egerton, may be said to have begun -his initiation into the _beau monde_ before he had well cast aside his -coral and bells; he had been fondled in the lap of duchesses, and -galloped across the room astride on the canes of embassadors and -princes. For Colonel Egerton was not only very highly connected--not -only one of the _Dii majores_ of fashion--but he had the still rarer -good fortune to be an exceedingly popular man with all who knew him; so -popular, that even the fine ladies whom he had adored and abandoned -forgave him for marrying out of "the set," and continued to be as -friendly as if he had not married at all. People who were commonly -called heartless, were never weary of doing kind things to the Egertons. -When the time came for Audley to leave the preparatory school, at which -his infancy budded forth among the stateliest of the little lilies of -the field, and go to Eton, half the fifth and sixth forms had been -canvassed to be exceedingly civil to young Egerton. The boy soon showed -that he inherited his father's talent for acquiring popularity, and that -to this talent he added those which put popularity to use. Without -achieving any scholastic distinction, he yet contrived to establish at -Eton the most desirable reputation which a boy can obtain--namely, that -among his own contemporaries--the reputation of a boy who was sure to do -something when he grew to be a man. As a gentleman commoner at Christ -Church, Oxford, he continued to sustain this high expectation, though he -won no prizes and took but an ordinary degree; and at Oxford the future -"something" became more defined--it was "something in public life" that -this young man was to do. - -While he was yet at the university, both his parents died--within a few -months of each other. And when Audley Egerton came of age, he succeeded -to a paternal property which was supposed to be large, and, indeed, had -once been so; but Colonel Egerton had been too lavish a man to enrich -his heir, and about £1500 a year was all that sales and mortgages left -of an estate that had formerly approached a rental of ten thousand -pounds. - -Still, Audley was considered to be opulent, and he did not dispel that -favorable notion by any imprudent exhibition of parsimony. On entering -the world of London, the Clubs flew open to receive him; and he woke one -morning to find himself, not indeed famous--but the fashion. To this -fashion he at once gave a certain gravity and value--he associated as -much as possible with public men and political ladies--he succeeded in -confirming the notion that he was "born to ruin or to rule the State." - -Now, his dearest and most intimate friend was Lord L'Estrange, from whom -he had been inseparable at Eton: and who now, if Audley Egerton was the -fashion, was absolutely the rage in London. - -Harley Lord L'Estrange was the only son of the Earl of Lansmere, a -nobleman of considerable wealth, and allied by intermarriages to the -loftiest and most powerful families in England. Lord Lansmere, -nevertheless, was but little known in the circles of London. He lived -chiefly on his estates, occupying himself with the various duties of a -great proprietor, and rarely came to the metropolis; so that he could -afford to give his son a very ample allowance, when Harley, at the age -of sixteen (having already attained to the sixth form at Eton), left -school for one of the regiments of the Guards. - -Few knew what to make of Harley L'Estrange--and that was, perhaps, the -reason why he was so much thought of. He had been by far the most -brilliant boy of his time at Eton--not only the boast of the -cricket-ground, but the marvel of the school-room--yet so full of whims -and oddities, and seeming to achieve his triumphs with so little aid -from steadfast application, that he had not left behind him the same -expectations of solid eminence which his friend and senior, Audley -Egerton, had excited. His eccentricities--his quaint sayings and -out-of-the-way actions, became as notable in the great world as they had -been in the small one of public school. That he was very clever there -was no doubt, and that the cleverness was of a high order might be -surmised not only from the originality but the independence of his -character. He dazzled the world, without seeming to care for its praise -or its censure--dazzled it, as it were, because he could not help -shining. He had some strange notions, whether political or social, which -rather frightened his father. According to Southey, "A man should be no -more ashamed of having been a republican than of having been young." -Youth and extravagant opinions naturally go together. I don't know -whether Harley L'Estrange was a republican at the age of eighteen; but -there was no young man in London who seemed to care less for being heir -to an illustrious name and some forty or fifty thousand pounds a year. -It was a vulgar fashion in that day to play the exclusive, and cut -persons who wore bad neckcloths and called themselves Smith or Johnson. -Lord L'Estrange never cut any one, and it was quite enough to slight -some worthy man because of his neckcloth or his birth, to insure to the -offender the pointed civilities of this eccentric successor to the -Dorimonts and the Wildairs. - -It was the wish of his father that Harley, as soon as he came of age, -should represent the borough of Lansmere (which said borough was the -single plague of the Earl's life). But this wish was never realized. -Suddenly, when the young idol of London still wanted some two or three -years of his majority, a new whim appeared to seize him. He withdrew -entirely from society--he left unanswered the most pressing -three-cornered notes of inquiry and invitation that ever strewed the -table of a young Guardsman; he was rarely seen anywhere in his former -haunts--when seen, was either alone or with Egerton; and his gay spirits -seemed wholly to have left him. A profound melancholy was written in his -countenance, and breathed in the listless tones of his voice. At this -time the Guards were achieving in the Peninsula their imperishable -renown; but the battalion to which Harley belonged was detained at home; -and whether chafed by inaction or emulous of glory, the young Lord -suddenly exchanged into a cavalry regiment, from which a recent -memorable conflict had swept one half the officers. Just before he -joined, a vacancy happening to occur for the representation of Lansmere, -he made it his special request to his father that the family interest -might be given to his friend Egerton--went down to the Park, which -adjoined the borough, to take leave of his parents--and Egerton -followed, to be introduced to the electors. This visit made a notable -epoch in the history of many personages who figure in my narrative, but -at present I content myself with saying, that circumstances arose which, -just as the canvass for the new election commenced, caused both -L'Estrange and Audley to absent themselves from the scene of action, and -that the last even wrote to Lord Lansmere expressing his intention of -declining to contest the borough. - -Fortunately for the parliamentary career of Audley Egerton, the election -had become to Lord Lansmere not only a matter of public importance, but -of personal feeling. He resolved that the battle should be fought out, -even in the absence of the candidate, and at his own expense. Hitherto -the contest for this distinguished borough had been, to use the language -of Lord Lansmere, "conducted in the spirit of gentlemen"--that is to -say, the only opponents to the Lansmere interest had been found in one -or the other of two rival families in the same county; and as the Earl -was a hospitable, courteous man, much respected and liked by the -neighboring gentry, so the hostile candidate had always interlarded his -speeches with profuse compliments to his Lordship's high character, and -civil expressions as to his Lordship's candidate. But, thanks to -successive elections, one of these two families had come to an end, and -its actual representative was now residing within the Rules of the -Bench; the head of the other family was the sitting member, and, by an -amicable agreement with the Lansmere interest, he remained as neutral as -it is in the power of any sitting member to be amidst the passions of an -intractable committee. Accordingly, it had been hoped that Egerton would -come in without opposition, when, the very day on which he had abruptly -left the place, a handbill, signed "Haverill Dashmore, Captain R.N., -Baker-street, Portman-square," announced, in very spirited language, the -intention of that gentleman to emancipate the borough from the -unconstitutional domination of an oligarchical faction, not with a view -to his own political aggrandizement--indeed, at great personal -inconvenience--but actuated solely by abhorrence to tyranny, and -patriotic passion for the purity of election. - -This announcement was followed, within two hours, by the arrival of -Captain Dashmore himself, in a carriage-and-four covered with yellow -favors, and filled, inside and out, with harum-scarum looking friends -who had come down with him to aid the canvass and share the fun. - -Captain Dashmore was a thorough sailor, who had, however, taken a -disgust to the profession from the date in which a Minister's nephew had -been appointed to the command of a ship to which the Captain considered -himself unquestionably entitled. It is just to the Minister to add, that -Captain Dashmore had shown as little regard for orders from a distance, -as had immortalized Nelson himself; but then the disobedience had not -achieved the same redeeming success as that of Nelson, and Captain -Dashmore ought to have thought himself fortunate in escaping a severer -treatment than the loss of promotion. But no man knows when he is well -off; and retiring on half-pay, just as he came into unexpected -possession of some forty or fifty thousand pounds bequeathed by a -distant relation, Captain Dashmore was seized with a vindictive desire -to enter parliament, and inflict oratorical chastisement on the -Administration. - -A very few hours sufficed to show the sea-captain to be a most capital -electioneerer for a small and not very enlightened borough. It is true -that he talked the saddest nonsense ever heard from an open window; but -then his jokes were so broad, his manner so hearty, his voice so big, -that in those dark days, before the schoolmaster was abroad, he would -have beaten your philosophical Radical and moralizing Democrat hollow. -Moreover he kissed all the women, old and young, with the zest of a -sailor who has known what it is to be three years at sea without sight -of a beardless lip; he threw open all the public-houses, asked a -numerous committee every day to dinner, and, chucking his purse up in -the air, declared "he would stick to his guns while there was a shot in -the locker." Till then, there had been but little political difference -between the candidate supported by Lord Lansmere's interest and the -opposing parties--for country gentlemen, in those days, were pretty much -of the same way of thinking, and the question had been really -local--viz., whether the Lansmere interest should or should not prevail -over that of the two squirearchical families who had alone, hitherto, -ventured to oppose it. But though Captain Dashmore was really a very -loyal man, and much too old a sailor to think that the State (which, -according to established metaphor, is a vessel, _par excellence_), -should admit Jack upon quarter-deck, yet, what with talking against -lords and aristocracy, jobs and abuses, and searching through no very -refined vocabulary for the strongest epithets to apply to those -irritating nouns-substantive, his bile had got the better of his -understanding, and he became fuddled, as it were, by his own eloquence. -Thus, though as innocent of Jacobinical designs as he was incapable of -setting the Thames on fire, you would have guessed him, by his speeches, -to be one of the most determined incendiaries that ever applied a match -to the combustible materials of a contested election; while, being by no -means accustomed to respect his adversaries, he could not have treated -the Earl of Lansmere with less ceremony if his Lordship had been a -Frenchman. He usually designated that respectable nobleman by the title -of "Old Pompous;" and the Mayor, who was never seen abroad but in -top-boots, and the Solicitor, who was of a large build, received from -his irreverent wit the joint sobriquet of "Tops and Bottoms!" Hence the -election had now become, as I said before, a personal matter with my -Lord, and, indeed, with the great heads of the Lansmere interest. The -Earl seemed to consider his very coronet at stake in the question. "The -man from Baker-street," with his preternatural audacity, appeared to him -a being ominous and awful--not so much to be regarded with resentment, -as with superstitious terror: he felt as felt the dignified Montezuma, -when that ruffianly Cortez, with his handful of Spanish rapscallions, -bearded him in his own capital, and in the midst of his Mexican -splendor--"The gods were menaced if man could be so insolent!" wherefore -said my Lord, tremulously, "The Constitution is gone if the Man from -Baker-street comes in for Lansmere!" - -But, in the absence of Audley Egerton, the election looked extremely -ugly, and Captain Dashmore gained ground hourly, when the Lansmere -Solicitor happily bethought him of a notable proxy for the missing -candidate. The Squire of Hazeldean, with his young wife, had been -invited by the Earl in honor of Audley; and in the Squire the Solicitor -beheld the only mortal who could cope with the sea-captain--a man with a -voice as burly, and a face as bold--a man who, if permitted for the -nonce by Mrs. Hazeldean, would kiss all the women no less heartily than -the Captain kissed them; and who was, moreover, a taller, and a -handsomer, and a younger man--all three, great recommendations in the -kissing department of a contested election. Yes, to canvass the borough, -and to speak from the window, Squire Hazeldean would be even more -popularly presentable than the London-bred and accomplished Audley -Egerton himself. - -The Squire, applied to and urged on all sides, at first said bluntly, -"that he would do any thing in reason to serve his brother, but that he -did not like, for his own part, appearing, even in proxy, as a Lord's -nominee; and, moreover, if he was to be sponsor for his brother, why, he -must promise and vow, in his name, to be stanch and true to the land -they lived by; and how could he tell that Audley, when once he got into -the House, would not forget the land, and then he, William Hazeldean, -would be made a liar, and look like a turncoat!" - -But these scruples being overruled by the arguments of the gentlemen and -the entreaties of the ladies, who took in the election that intense -interest which those gentle creatures usually do take in all matters of -strife and contest, the Squire at length consented to confront the Man -from Baker-street, and went, accordingly, into the thing with that good -heart and old English spirit with which he went into every thing whereon -he had once made up his mind. - -The expectations formed of the Squire's capacities for popular -electioneering were fully realized. He talked quite as much nonsense as -Captain Dashmore on every subject except the landed interest; there he -was great, for he knew the subject well--knew it by the instinct that -comes with practice, and compared to which all your showy theories are -mere cobwebs and moonshine. - -The agricultural outvoters--many of whom, not living under Lord -Lansmere, but being small yeomen, had hitherto prided themselves on -their independence, and gone against my Lord--could not in their hearts -go against one who was every inch the farmer's friend. They began to -share in the Earl's personal interest against the Man from Baker-street; -and big fellows, with legs bigger round than Captain Dashmore's tight -little body, and huge whips in their hands, were soon seen entering the -shops, "intimidating the electors," as Captain Dashmore indignantly -declared. - -These new recruits made a great difference in the muster-roll of the -Lansmere books; and, when the day for polling arrived, the result was a -fair question for even betting. At the last hour, after a neck-and-neck -contest, Mr. Audley Egerton beat the Captain by two votes. And the names -of these voters were John Avenal, resident freeman, and his son-in-law, -Mark Fairfield, an outvoter, who, though a Lansmere freeman, had settled -in Hazeldean, where he had obtained the situation of head carpenter on -the Squire's estate. - -These votes were unexpected; for, though Mark Fairfield had come to -Lansmere on purpose to support the Squire's brother, and though the -Avenals had been always stanch supporters of the Lansmere Blue interest, -yet a severe affliction (as to the nature of which, not desiring to -sadden the opening of my story, I am considerately silent) had befallen -both these persons, and they had left the town on the very day after -Lord L'Estrange and Mr. Egerton had quitted Lansmere Park. - -Whatever might have been the gratification of the Squire, as a canvasser -and a brother, at Mr. Egerton's triumph, it was much damped when, on -leaving the dinner given in honor of the victory, at the Lansmere Arms, -and about, with no steady step, to enter the carriage which was to -convey him to his Lordship's house, a letter was put into his hands by -one of the gentleman who had accompanied the Captain to the scene of -action; and the perusal of that letter, and a few whispered words from -the bearer thereof, sent the Squire back to Mrs. Hazeldean a much -soberer man than she had ventured to hope for. The fact was, that on the -day of nomination, the Captain having honored Mr. Hazeldean with many -poetical and figurative appellations--such as "Prize Ox," "Tony -Lumpkin," "Blood-sucking Vampyre," and "Brotherly Warming-Pan," the -Squire had retorted by a joke upon "Salt Water Jack;" and the Captain, -who, like all satirists, was extremely susceptible and thin-skinned, -could not consent to be called "Salt Water Jack" by a "Prize Ox" and a -"Blood-sucking Vampyre." The letter, therefore, now conveyed to Mr. -Hazeldean by a gentleman, who, being from the Sister Country, was deemed -the most fitting accomplice in the honorable destruction of a brother -mortal, contained nothing more nor less than an invitation to single -combat; and the bearer thereof, with the suave politeness enjoined by -etiquette on such well-bred homicidal occasions, suggested the -expediency of appointing the place of meeting in the neighborhood of -London, in order to prevent interference from the suspicious authorities -of Lansmere. - -The natives of some countries--the warlike French in particular--think -little of that formal operation which goes by the name of DUELLING. -Indeed, they seem rather to like it than otherwise. But there is nothing -your thorough-paced Englishman--a Hazeldean of Hazeldean--considers -with more repugnance and aversion, than that same cold-blooded -ceremonial. It is not within the range of an Englishman's ordinary -habits of thinking. He prefers going to law--a much more destructive -proceeding of the two. Nevertheless, if an Englishman must fight, why, -he will fight. He says "it is very foolish;" he is sure "it is most -unchristian-like;" he agrees with all that Philosopher, Preacher, and -Press have laid down on the subject; but he makes his will, says his -prayers, and goes out, like a heathen! - -It never, therefore, occurred to the Squire to show the white feather -upon this unpleasant occasion. The next day, feigning excuse to attend -the sale of a hunting stud at Tattersall's, he ruefully went up to -London, after taking a peculiarly affectionate leave of his wife. -Indeed, the Squire felt convinced that he should never return home -except in a coffin. "It stands to reason," said he, to himself, "that a -man, who has been actually paid by the King's Government for shooting -people ever since he was a little boy in a midshipman's jacket, must be -a dead hand at the job. I should not mind if it was with double-barreled -Mantons and small shot; but ball and pistol! they aren't human nor -sportsmanlike!" However, the Squire, after settling his worldly affairs, -and hunting up an old College friend, who undertook to be his second, -proceeded to a sequestered corner of Wimbledon Common, and planted -himself, not sideways, as one ought to do in such encounters (the which -posture the Squire swore was an unmanly way of shirking), but full front -to the mouth of his adversary's pistol, with such sturdy composure, that -Captain Dashmore, who, though an excellent shot, was at bottom as -good-natured a fellow as ever lived, testified his admiration by letting -off his gallant opponent with a ball in the fleshy part of his shoulder; -after which he declared himself perfectly satisfied. The parties then -shook hands, mutual apologies were exchanged, and the Squire, much to -his astonishment to find himself still alive, was conveyed to Limmer's -Hotel, where, after a considerable amount of anguish, the ball was -extracted, and the wound healed. Now it was all over, the Squire felt -very much raised in his own conceit; and, when he was in a humor more -than ordinarily fierce, that perilous event became a favorite allusion -with him. - -He considered, moreover, that his brother had incurred at his hand the -most lasting obligations; and that, having procured Audley's return to -Parliament, and defended his interests at the risk of his own life, he -had an absolute right to dictate to that gentleman how to vote--upon all -matters at least connected with the landed interest. And when, not very -long after Audley took his seat in Parliament (which he did not do for -some months), he thought proper both to vote and to speak in a manner -wholly belying the promises the Squire had made on his behalf, Mr. -Hazeldean wrote him such a trimmer, that it could not but produce an -unconciliatory reply. Shortly afterward, the Squire's exasperation -reached the culminating point, for, having to pass through Lansmere on a -market-day, he was hooted by the very farmers whom he had induced to -vote for his brother; and, justly imputing the disgrace to Audley, he -never heard the name of that traitor to the land mentioned, without a -heightened color and an indignant expletive. Monsieur de Ruqueville--who -was the greatest wit of his day--had, like the Squire, a half-brother, -with whom he was not on the best of terms, and of whom he always spoke -as his "_frère de loin_." Audley Egerton was thus Squire Hazeldean's -"_distant brother_!"--Enough of these explanatory antecedents--let us -return to the Stocks. - - -CHAPTER XI. - -The Squire's carpenters were taken from the park pales, and set to work -at the parish stocks. Then came the painter and colored them, a -beautiful dark blue, with a white border--and a white rim round the -holes--with an ornamental flourish in the middle. It was the gayest -public edifice in the whole village--though the village possessed no -less than three other monuments of the Vitruvian genius, of the -Hazeldeans: to wit, the alms-house, the school, and the parish pump. - -A more elegant, enticing, coquettish pair of stocks never gladdened the -eye of a justice of the peace. - -And Squire Hazeldean's eye was gladdened. In the pride of his heart he -brought all the family down to look at the stocks. The Squire's family -(omitting the _frère de loin_) consisted of Mrs. Hazeldean, his wife; -next, of Miss Jemima Hazeldean, his first cousin; thirdly, of Master -Francis Hazeldean, his only son; and fourthly, of Captain Barnabas -Higginbotham, a distant relation--who, indeed, strictly speaking, was -not of the family, but only a visitor ten months in the year. Mrs. -Hazeldean was every inch the lady--the lady of the parish. In her -comely, florid, and somewhat sunburnt countenance, there was an equal -expression of majesty and benevolence; she had a blue eye that invited -liking, and an aquiline nose that commanded respect. Mrs. Hazeldean had -no affectation of fine airs--no wish to be greater and handsomer and -cleverer than she was. She knew herself, and her station, and thanked -heaven for it. There was about her speech and manner something of that -shortness and bluntness which often characterizes royalty; and if the -lady of a parish is not a queen in her own circle, it is never the fault -of the parish. Mrs. Hazeldean dressed her part to perfection. She wore -silks that seemed heirlooms--so thick were they, so substantial and -imposing. And over these, when she was in her own domain, the whitest of -aprons; while at her waist was seen no fiddle-daddle _chatelaine_, with -_breloques_ and trumpery, but a good honest gold watch to mark the -time, and a long pair of scissors to cut off the dead leaves from her -flowers, for she was a great horticulturist. When occasion needed, Mrs. -Hazeldean could, however, lay by her more sumptuous and imperial raiment -for a stout riding-habit of blue Saxony, and canter by her husband's -side to see the hounds throw off. Nay, on the days on which Mr. -Hazeldean drove his famous fast-trotting cob to the market town, it was -rarely that you did not see his wife on the left side of the gig. She -cared as little as her lord did for wind and weather, and, in the midst -of some pelting shower, her pleasant face peeped over the collar and -capes of a stout dreadnought, expanding into smiles and bloom as some -frank rose, that opens from its petals, and rejoices in the dews. It was -easy to see that the worthy couple had married for love; they were as -little apart as they could help it. And still, on the first of -September, if the house was not full of company which demanded her -cares, Mrs. Hazeldean "stepped out" over the stubbles by her husband's -side, with as light a tread and as blithe an eye as when in the first -bridal year she had enchanted the Squire by her genial sympathy with his -sports. - -So there now stands Harriet Hazeldean, one hand leaning on the Squire's -broad shoulder, the other thrust into her apron, and trying her best to -share her husband's enthusiasm for his own public-spirited patriotism, -in the renovation of the parish stocks. A little behind, with two -fingers leaning on the thin arm of Captain Barnabas, stood Miss Jemima, -the orphan daughter of the Squire's uncle, by a runaway imprudent -marriage with a young lady who belonged to a family which had been at -war with the Hazeldeans since the reign of Charles I., respecting a -right of way to a small wood (or rather spring) of about an acre, -through a piece of furze land, which was let to a brick-maker at twelve -shillings a year. The wood belonged to the Hazeldeans, the furze land to -the Sticktorights (an old Saxon family, if ever there was one). Every -twelfth year, when the fagots and timber were felled, this feud broke -out afresh; for the Sticktorights refused to the Hazeldeans the right to -cart off the said fagots and timber, through the only way by which a -cart could possibly pass. It is just to the Hazeldeans to say that they -had offered to buy the land at ten times its value. But the -Sticktorights, with equal magnanimity, had declared that they would not -"alienate the family property for the convenience of the best squire -that ever stood upon shoe leather." Therefore, every twelfth year, there -was always a great breach of the peace on the part of both Hazeldeans -and Sticktorights, magistrates, and deputy-lieutenants though they were. -The question was fairly fought out by their respective dependents, and -followed by various actions for assault and trespass. As the legal -question of right was extremely obscure, it never had been properly -decided: and, indeed, neither party wished it to be decided, each at -heart having some doubt of the propriety of its own claim. A marriage -between the younger son of the Hazeldeans, and a younger daughter of the -Sticktorights, was viewed with equal indignation by both families; and -the consequence had been that the runaway couple, unblessed and -unforgiven, had scrambled through life as they could, upon the scanty -pay of the husband, who was in a marching regiment, and the interest of -£1000, which was the wife's fortune, independent of her parents. They -died, and left an only daughter, upon whom the maternal £1000 had been -settled, about the time that the Squire came of age and into possession -of his estates. And though he inherited all the ancestral hostility -toward the Sticktorights, it was not in his nature to be unkind to a -poor orphan who was, after all, the child of a Hazeldean. Therefore, he -had educated and fostered Jemima with as much tenderness as if she had -been his sister; put out her £1000 at nurse, and devoted, from the ready -money which had accrued from the rents during his minority, as much as -made her fortune (with her own accumulated at compound interest) no less -than £4000, the ordinary marriage portion of the daughters of Hazeldean. -On her coming of age, he transferred this sum to her absolute disposal, -in order that she might feel herself independent, see a little more of -the world than she could at Hazeldean, have candidates to choose from if -she deigned to marry; or enough to live upon if she chose to remain -single. Miss Jemima had somewhat availed herself of this liberty, by -occasional visits to Cheltenham and other watering-places. But her -grateful affection to the Squire was such, that she could never bear to -be long away from the Hall. And this was the more praise to her heart, -inasmuch as she was far from taking kindly to the prospect of being an -old maid. And there were so few bachelors in the neighborhood of -Hazeldean, that she could not but have that prospect before her eyes -whenever she looked out of the Hall windows. Miss Jemima was indeed one -of the most kindly and affectionate of beings feminine--and if she -disliked the thought of single blessedness, it really was from those -innocent and womanly instincts toward the tender charities of hearth and -home, without which a lady, however otherwise estimable, is little -better than a Minerva in bronze. But whether or not, despite her fortune -and her face, which last, though not strictly handsome, was -pleasing--and would have been positively pretty if she had laughed more -often (for when she laughed there appeared three charming dimples, -invisible when she was grave)--whether or not, I say, it was the fault -of our insensibility or her own fastidiousness, Miss Jemima approached -her thirtieth year, and was still Miss Jemima. Now, therefore, that -beautifying laugh of hers was very rarely heard, and she had of late -become confirmed in two opinions, not at all conducive to laughter. One -was a conviction of the general and progressive wickedness of the male -sex, and the other was a decided and lugubrious belief that the world -was coming to an end. Miss Jemima was now accompanied by a small canine -favorite, true Blenheim, with a snub nose. It was advanced in life, and -somewhat obese. It sate on its haunches with its tongue out of its -mouth, except when it snapped at the flies. There was a strong Platonic -friendship between Miss Jemima and Captain Barnabas Higginbotham; for he -too was unmarried, and he had the same ill opinion of your sex, my dear -madam, that Miss Jemima had of ours. The captain was a man of a slim and -elegant figure--the less said about the face the better--a truth of -which the Captain himself was sensible, for it was a favorite maxim of -his, "that in a man, every thing is a slight, gentlemanlike figure." -Captain Barnabas did not absolutely deny that the world was coming to an -end, only he thought it would last his time. - -Quite apart from the rest, with the nonchalant survey of virgin -dandyism, Francis Hazeldean looked over one of the high starched -neck-cloths which were then the fashion--a handsome lad, fresh from Eton -for the summer holidays, but at that ambiguous age, when one disdains -the sports of the boy, and has not yet arrived at the resources of the -man. - -"I should be glad, Frank," said the Squire, suddenly turning round to -his son, "to see you take a little more interest in duties which, one -day or other you may be called upon to discharge. I can't bear to think -that the property should fall into the hands of a fine gentleman, who -will let things go to rack and ruin, instead of keeping them up as I -do." - -And the Squire pointed to the stocks. - -Master Frank's eye followed the direction of the cane, as well as his -cravat would permit; and he said, dryly, - -"Yes, sir; but how came the stocks to be so long out of repair?" - -"Because one can't see to every thing at once," retorted the Squire, -tartly. "When a man has got eight thousand acres to look after, he must -do a bit at a time." - -"Yes," said Captain Barnabas. "I know that by experience." - -"The deuce you do!" cried the Squire, bluntly. "Experience in eight -thousand acres!" - -"No; in my apartments in the Albany. Number 3A. I have had them ten -years, and it was only last Christmas that I bought my Japan cat." - -"Dear me!" said Miss Jemima; "a Japan cat! that must be very curious! -What sort of a creature is it?" - -"Don't you know? Bless me, a thing with three legs, and holds toast! I -never thought of it, I assure you, till my friend Cosey said to me, one -morning, when he was breakfasting at my rooms, 'Higginbotham, how is it, -that you, who like to have things comfortable about you, don't have a -cat?' 'Upon my life,' said I, 'one can't think of every thing at a -time;' just like you, Squire." - -"Pshaw," said Mr. Hazeldean, gruffly; "not at all like me. And I'll -thank you another time, Cousin Higginbotham, not to put me out when I am -speaking on matters of importance; poking your cat into my stocks! They -look something like now, don't they, Harry? I declare that the whole -village seems more respectable. It is astonishing how much a little -improvement adds to the--to the--" - -"Charm of a landscape," put in Miss Jemima, sentimentally. - -The Squire neither accepted nor rejected the suggested termination; but -leaving his sentence uncompleted, broke suddenly off with, - -"And if I had listened to Parson Dale--" - -"You would have done a very wise thing," said a voice behind, as the -Parson presented himself in the rear. - -"Wise thing! Why surely, Mr. Dale," said Mrs. Hazeldean, with spirit, -for she always resented the least contradiction to her lord and master; -perhaps as an interference with her own special right and prerogative: -"why, surely if it is necessary to have stocks, it is necessary to -repair them." - -"That's right, go it, Harry!" cried the Squire, chuckling, and rubbing -his hands, as if he had been setting his terrier at the Parson. -"St--St--at him! Well, Master Dale, what do you say to that?" - -"My dear ma'am," said the Parson, replying in preference to the lady; -"there are many institutions in the country which are very old, look -very decayed, and don't seem of much use; but I would not pull them down -for all that." - -"You would reform them, then," said Mrs. Hazeldean, doubtfully, and with -a look at her husband, as much as to say, "He is on politics now; that's -your business." - -"No, I would not, ma'am," said the Parson, stoutly. - -"What on earth would you do, then?" quoth the Squire. - -"Just let 'em alone," said the Parson. "Master Frank, there's a Latin -maxim which was often in the mouth of Sir Robert Walpole, and which they -ought to put in the Eton grammar--'_Quieta non movere_.' If things are -quiet, let them be quiet! I would not destroy the stocks, because that -might seem to the ill-disposed like a license to offend, and I would not -repair the stocks, because that puts it into people's heads to get into -them." - -The Squire was a stanch politician of the old school, and he did not -like to think that in repairing the stocks, he had perhaps been -conniving at revolutionary principles. - -"This constant desire of innovation," said Miss Jemima, suddenly -mounting the more funereal of her two favorite hobbies, "is one of the -great symptoms of the approaching crash. We are altering, and mending, -and reforming, when in twenty years at the utmost the world itself may -be destroyed!" The fair speaker paused, and-- - -Captain Barnabas said, thoughtfully, "Twenty years!--the insurance -offices rarely compute the best life at more than fourteen." He struck -his hand on the stocks as he spoke, and added, with his usual -consolatory conclusion--"The odds are, that it will last our time, -Squire." - -But whether Captain Barnabas meant the stocks or the world, he did not -clearly explain, and no one took the trouble to inquire. - -"Sir," said Master Frank to his father, with that furtive spirit of -quizzing, which he had acquired among other polite accomplishments at -Eton; "sir, it is no use now considering whether the stocks should or -should not have been repaired. The only question is, whom you will get -to put into them." - -"True," said the Squire, with much gravity. - -"Yes, there it is!" said the Parson, mournfully. "If you would but learn -'_quieta non movere_!'" - -"Don't spout your Latin at me, Parson!" cried the Squire, angrily; "I -can give you as good as you bring, any day-- - - 'Propria quæ maribus tribuuntur mascula dicas-- - As in presenti, perfectum format in avi.' - -There," added the Squire, turning triumphantly toward his Harry, who -looked with great admiration at this unprecedented burst of learning on -the part of Mr. Hazeldean; "there, two can play at that game! And now -that we have all seen the stocks, we may as well go home, and drink tea. -Will you come up and play a rubber, Dale? No! hang it, man, I've not -offended you--you know my ways." - -"That I do, and they are among the things I would not have altered," -cried the Parson, holding out his hand cheerfully. The Squire gave it a -hearty shake, and Mrs. Hazeldean hastened to do the same. "Do come; I am -afraid we've been very rude; we are sad blunt folks. Do come; that's a -dear good man; and of course poor Mrs. Dale too." Mrs. Hazeldean's -favorite epithet for Mrs. Dale was _poor_, and that for reasons to be -explained hereafter. - -"I fear my wife has got one of her bad headaches, but I will give her -your kind message, and at all events you may depend upon me." - -"That's right," cried the Squire, "in half-an-hour, eh? How d'ye do, my -little man?" as Lenny Fairfield, on his way home from some errand in the -village, drew aside and pulled off his hat with both hands. "Stop--you -see those stocks--eh? Tell all the bad little boys in the parish to take -care how they get into them--a sad disgrace--you'll never be in such a -quandary!" - -"That at least I will answer for," said the Parson. - -"And I too," added Mrs. Hazeldean, patting the boy's curly head. "Tell -your mother I shall come and have a good chat with her to-morrow -evening." - -And so the party passed on, and Lenny stood still on the road, staring -hard at the stocks, which stared back at him from its four great eyes. - -But Lenny did not remain long alone. As soon as the great folks had -fairly disappeared, a large number of small folks emerged timorously -from the neighboring cottages, and approached the site of the stocks -with much marvel, fear, and curiosity. - -In fact, the renovated appearance of this monster--_à propos des -bottes_, as one may say--had already excited considerable sensation -among the population of Hazeldean. And even as when an unexpected owl -makes his appearance in broad daylight, all the little birds rise from -tree and hedge-row, and cluster round their ominous enemy, so now -gathered all the much excited villagers round the intrusive and -portentous Phenomenon. - -"D'ye know what the diggins the Squire did it for, Gaffer Solomons?" -asked one many-childed matron, with a baby in arms, an urchin of three -years old clinging fast to her petticoat, and her hand maternally -holding back a more adventurous hero of six, who had a great desire to -thrust his head into one of the grisly apertures. All eyes turned to a -sage old man, the oracle of the village, who, leaning both hands on his -crutch, shook his head bodingly. - -"Maw be," said Gaffer Solomons, "some of the boys ha' been robbing the -orchards." - -"Orchards," cried a big lad, who seemed to think himself personally -appealed to, "why the bud's scarce off the trees yet!" - -"No more it isn't!" said the dame with many children, and she breathed -more freely. - -"Maw be," said Gaffer Solomons, "some o' ye has been setting snares." - -"What for?" said a stout sullen-looking young fellow, whom conscience -possibly pricked to reply. "What for, when it beant the season? And if a -poor man did find a hear in his pocket i' the hay time, I should like to -know if ever a squire in the world would let un off wi' the stocks--eh?" - -That last question seemed a settler, and the wisdom of Gaffer Solomons -went down fifty per cent. in the public opinion of Hazeldean. - -"Maw be," said the Gaffer, this time with a thrilling effect, which -restored his reputation, "Maw be some o' ye ha' been getting drunk, and -making beestises o' yoursels!" - -There was a dead pause, for this suggestion applied too generally to be -met with a solitary response. At last one of the women said, with a -meaning glance at her husband, "God bless the Squire; he'll make some on -us happy women, if that's all!" - -There then arose an almost unanimous murmur of approbation among the -female part of the audience; and the men looked at each other, and then -at the Phenomenon, with a very hang-dog expression of countenance. - -"Or, maw be," resumed Gaffer Solomons, encouraged to a fourth -suggestion by the success of its predecessor, "Maw be some o' the -Misseses ha' been making a rumpus, and scolding their goodmen. I heard -say in my granfeythir's time, that arter old Mother Bang nigh died o' -the ducking-stool, them 'ere stocks were first made for the women, out -o' compassion like! And every one knows the Squire is a koind-hearted -man, God bless un!" - -"God bless un!" cried the men heartily; and they gathered lovingly round -the Phenomenon, like heathens of old round a tutelary temple. But then -rose one shrill clamor among the females, as they retreated with -involuntary steps toward the verge of the green, whence they glared at -Solomons and the Phenomenon with eyes so sparkling, and pointed at both -with gestures so menacing, that Heaven only knows if a morsel of either -would have remained much longer to offend the eyes of the justly enraged -matronage of Hazeldean, if fortunately Master Stirn, the Squire's -right-hand man, had not come up in the nick of time. - -Master Stirn was a formidable personage--more formidable than the Squire -himself--as, indeed, a squire's right-hand is generally more formidable -than the head can pretend to be. He inspired the greater awe, because, -like the stocks, of which he was deputed guardian, his powers were -undefined and obscure, and he had no particular place in the out-of-door -establishment. He was not the steward, yet he did much of what ought to -be the steward's work; he was not the farm-bailiff, for the Squire -called himself his own farm-bailiff; nevertheless, Mr. Hazeldean sowed -and plowed, cropped and stocked, bought and sold, very much as Mr. Stirn -condescended to advise. He was not the park-keeper, for he neither shot -the deer nor superintended the preserves; but it was he who always found -out who had broken a park-pale or snared a rabbit. In short, what may be -called all the harsher duties of a large landed proprietor devolved by -custom and choice upon Mr. Stirn. If a laborer was to be discharged, or -a rent enforced, and the Squire knew that he should be talked over, and -that the steward would be as soft as himself, Mr. Stirn was sure to be -the avenging [Greek: angelos] or messenger, to pronounce the words of -fate; so that he appeared to the inhabitants of Hazeldean like the -Poet's _Sæva Necessitas_, a vague incarnation of remorseless power, -armed with whips, nails, and wedges. The very brute creation stood in -awe of Mr. Stirn. The calves knew that it was he who singled out which -should be sold to the butcher, and huddled up into a corner with beating -hearts at his grim footstep; the sow grunted, the duck quacked, the hen -bristled her feathers and called to her chicks when Mr. Stirn drew near. -Nature had set her stamp upon him. Indeed it may be questioned whether -the great M. de Chambray himself, surnamed the Brave, had an aspect so -awe-inspiring as that of Mr. Stirn; albeit the face of that hero was so -terrible, that a man who had been his lackey, seeing his portrait after -he had been dead twenty years, fell a-trembling all over like a leaf! - -"And what the plague are you all doing here?" said Mr. Stirn, as he -waved and smacked a great cart-whip which he held in his hand, "making -such a hullabaloo, you women, you! that I suspect the Squire will be -sending out to know if the village is on fire. Go home, will ye? High -time indeed to have the stocks ready, when you get squalling and -conspiring under the very nose of a justice of the peace, just as the -French Revolutioners did afore they cut off their King's head; my hair -stands on end to look at ye." But already, before half this address was -delivered, the crowd had dispersed in all directions--the women still -keeping together, and the men sneaking off toward the ale-house. Such -was the beneficent effect of the fatal stocks on the first day of their -resuscitation! - -However, in the break up of every crowd there must be always some one -who gets off the last; and it so happened that our friend Lenny -Fairfield, who had mechanically approached close to the stocks, the -better to hear the oracular opinions of Gaffer Solomons, had no less -mechanically, on the abrupt appearance of Mr. Stirn, crept, as he hoped, -out of sight behind the trunk of the elm tree which partially shaded the -stocks; and there now, as if fascinated, he still cowered, not daring to -emerge in full view of Mr. Stirn, and in immediate reach of the -cart-whip, when the quick eye of the right-hand man detected his -retreat. - -"Hallo, you sir--what the deuce, laying a mine to blow up the stocks! -just like Guy Fox and the Gunpowder Plot, I declares! What ha' you got -in your willainous little fist, there?" - -"Nothing, sir," said Lenny, opening his palm. - -"Nothing--um!" said Mr. Stirn, much dissatisfied; and then, as he gazed -more deliberately, recognizing the pattern boy of the village, a cloud -yet darker gathered over his brow; for Mr. Stirn, who valued himself -much on his learning--and who, indeed, by dint of more knowledge as well -as more wit than his neighbors, had attained his present eminent station -in life--was extremely anxious that his only son should also be a -scholar; that wish, - - "The Gods dispersed in empty air." - -Master Stirn was a notable dunce at the Parson's school, while Lenny -Fairfield was the pride and boast of it; therefore Mr. Stirn was -naturally, and almost justifiably ill-disposed toward Lenny Fairfield, -who had appropriated to himself the praises which Mr. Stirn had designed -for his son. - -"Um!" said the right-hand man, glowering on Lenny malignantly, "you are -the pattern boy of the village, are you? Very well, sir--then I put -these here stocks under your care--and you'll keep off the other boys -from sitting on 'em, and picking off the paint, and playing three holes -and chuck farthing, as I declare they've been a-doing, just in front of -the elewation. Now you knows your sponsibilities, little boy--and a -great honor they are too, for the like o' you. If any damage be done, it -is to you I shall look; d'ye understand? and that's what the Squire says -to me; so you sees what it is to be a pattern boy, Master Lenny!" - -With that Mr. Stirn gave a loud crack of the cart-whip, by way of -military honors, over the head of the vicegerent he had thus created, -and strode off to pay a visit to two young unsuspecting pups, whose ears -and tails he had graciously promised their proprietor to crop that -evening. Nor, albeit few charges could be more obnoxious than that of -deputy governor or _chargé d'affaires extraordinaire_ to the Parish -Stocks, nor one more likely to render Lenny Fairfield odious to his -contemporaries, ought he to have been insensible to the signal advantage -of his condition over that of the two sufferers, against whose ears and -tails Mr. Stirn had no especial motives of resentment. To every bad -there is a worse--and fortunately for little boys, and even for grown -men, whom the Stirns of the world regard malignly, the majesty of law -protects their ears, and the merciful forethought of nature deprived -their remote ancestors of the privilege of entailing tails upon them. -Had it been otherwise--considering what handles tails would have given -to the oppressor, how many traps envy would have laid for them, how -often they must have been scratched and mutilated by the briars of life, -how many good excuses would have been found for lopping, docking, and -trimming them--I fear that only the lap-dogs of fortune would have gone -to the grave tail-whole. - - -CHAPTER XII. - -The card-table was set out in the drawing-room at Hazeldean Hall; though -the little party were still lingering in the deep recess of the large -bay window--which (in itself of dimensions that would have swallowed up -a moderate-sized London parlor) held the great round tea-table with all -appliances and means to boot--for the beautiful summer moon shed on the -sward so silvery a lustre, and the trees cast so quiet a shadow, and the -flowers and new-mown hay sent up so grateful a perfume, that, to close -the windows, draw the curtains, and call for other lights than those of -heaven, would have been an abuse of the prose of life which even Captain -Barnabas, who regarded whist as the business of town and the holiday of -the country, shrank from suggesting. Without, the scene, beheld by the -clear moonlight, had the beauty peculiar to the garden ground round -those old-fashioned country residences which, though a little -modernized, still preserve their original character: the velvet lawn, -studded with large plots of flowers, shaded and scented here, to the -left, by lilacs, laburnums, and rich seringas--there, to the right, -giving glimpses, over low-clipped yews, of a green bowling alley, with -the white columns of a summer house built after the Dutch taste, in the -reign of William III.; and in front--stealing away under covert of -those still cedars, into the wilder landscape of the well-wooded, -undulating park. Within, viewed by the placid glimmer of the moon, the -scene was no less characteristic of the abodes of that race which has no -parallel in other lands, and which, alas, is somewhat losing its native -idiosyncracies in this--the stout country gentleman, not the fine -gentleman of the country--the country gentleman somewhat softened and -civilized from the mere sportsman or farmer, but still plain and homely, -relinquishing the old hall for the drawing-room, and with books not -three months' old on his table, instead of _Fox's Martyrs_ and _Baker's -Chronicle_--yet still retaining many a sacred old prejudice, that, like -the knots in his native oak, rather adds to the ornament of the grain -than takes from the strength of the tree. Opposite to the window, the -high chimney-piece rose to the heavy cornice of the ceiling, with dark -pannels glistening against the moonlight. The broad and rather clumsy -chintz sofas and settees of the reign of George III., contrasted at -intervals with the tall backed chairs of a far more distant generation, -when ladies in fardingales, and gentlemen in trunk-hose, seemed never to -have indulged in horizontal positions. The walls, of shining wainscot, -were thickly covered, chiefly with family pictures; though now and then -some Dutch fair, or battle-piece, showed that a former proprietor had -been less exclusive in his taste for the arts. The piano-forte stood -open near the fire-place; a long dwarf bookcase at the far end, added -its sober smile to the room. That bookcase contained what was called -"The Lady's Library," a collection commenced by the Squire's -grandmother, of pious memory, and completed by his mother, who had more -taste for the lighter letters, with but little addition from the -bibliomaniac tenderness of the present Mrs. Hazeldean--who, being no -great reader, contented herself with subscribing to the Book Club. In -this feminine Bodleian, the sermons collected by Mrs. Hazeldean, the -grandmother, stood cheek-by-jowl beside the novels purchased by Mrs. -Hazeldean, the mother. - - "Mixtaque ridenti fundet colocasia acantho!" - -But, to be sure, the novels, in spite of very inflammatory titles, such -as "Fatal Sensibility," "Errors of the Heart," &c., were so harmless -that I doubt if the sermons could have had much to say against their -next-door neighbors--and that is all that can be expected by the rest of -us. - -A parrot dozing on his perch--some gold fish fast asleep in their glass -bowl--two or three dogs on the rug, and Flimsey, Miss Jemima's spaniel, -curled into a ball on the softest sofa--Mrs. Hazeldean's work-table, -rather in disorder, as if it had been lately used--the _St. James's -Chronicle_ dangling down from a little tripod near the Squire's -arm-chair--a high screen of gilt and stamped leather fencing off the -card table; all these, dispersed about a room large enough to hold them -all and not seem crowded, offered many a pleasant resting-place for the -eye, when it turned from the world of nature to the home of man. - -But see, Captain Barnabas, fortified by his fourth cup of tea, has at -length summoned courage to whisper to Mrs. Hazeldean, "don't you think -the Parson will be impatient for his rubber?" Mrs. Hazeldean glanced at -the Parson, and smiled; but she gave the signal to the Captain, and the -bell was rung, lights were brought in, the curtains let down; in a few -moments more the group had collected round the card-tables. The best of -us are but human--that is not a new truth, I confess, but yet people -forget it every day of their lives--and I dare say there are many who -are charitably thinking at this very moment, that my Parson ought not to -be playing at whist. All I can say to these rigid disciplinarians is, -"Every man has his favorite sin: whist was Parson Dale's!--ladies and -gentlemen, what is yours?" In truth, I must not set up my poor parson, -nowadays, as a pattern parson--it is enough to have one pattern in a -village no bigger than Hazeldean, and we all know that Lenny Fairfield -has bespoken that place--and got the patronage of the stocks for his -emoluments! Parson Dale was ordained, not indeed so very long ago, but -still at a time when churchmen took it a great deal more easily than -they do now. The elderly parson of that day played his rubber as a -matter of course, the middle-aged parson was sometimes seen riding to -cover (I knew a schoolmaster, a doctor of divinity, and an excellent -man, whose pupils were chiefly taken from the highest families in -England, who hunted regularly three times a week during the season), and -the young parson would often sing a capital song--not composed by -David--and join in those rotary dances, which certainly David never -danced before the ark. - -Does it need so long a prolegomenon to excuse thee, poor Parson Dale, -for turning up that ace of spades with so triumphant a smile at thy -partner? I must own that nothing that well could add to the Parson's -offense was wanting. In the first place he did not play charitably, and -merely to oblige other people. He delighted in the game--he rejoiced in -the game--his whole heart was in the game--neither was he indifferent to -the mammon of the thing, as a Christian pastor ought to have been. He -looked very sad when he took his shillings out of his purse, and -exceedingly pleased when he put the shillings that had just before -belonged to other people into it. Finally, by one of those arrangements -common with married people, who play at the same table, Mr. and Mrs. -Hazeldean were invariably partners, and no two people could play worse; -while Captain Barnabas, who had played at Graham's with honor and -profit, necessarily became partner to Parson Dale, who himself played a -good steady parsonic game. So that, in strict truth, it was hardly fair -play--it was almost swindling--the combination of those two great dons -against that innocent married couple! Mr. Dale, it is true, was aware of -this disproportion of force, and had often proposed either to change -partners or to give odds, propositions always scornfully scouted by the -Squire and his lady; so that the Parson was obliged to pocket his -conscience together with the ten points which made his average winnings. - -The strangest thing in the world is the different way in which whist -affects the temper. It is no test of temper, as some pretend--not at -all! The best tempered people in the world grow snappish at whist; and I -have seen the most testy and peevish in the ordinary affairs of life -bear their losses with the stoicism of Epictetus. This was notably -manifested in the contrast between the present adversaries of the Hall -and the Rectory. The Squire who was esteemed as choleric a gentleman as -most in the county, was the best humored fellow you could imagine when -you set him down to whist opposite the sunny face of his wife. You never -heard one of these incorrigible blunderers scold each other; on the -contrary, they only laughed when they threw away the game, with four by -honors in their hands. The utmost that was ever said was a "Well, Harry, -that was the oddest trump of yours. Ho--ho--ho!" or a "Bless me, -Hazeldean--why, they made three tricks, and you had the ace in your hand -all the time! Ha--ha--ha!" - -Upon which occasions Captain Barnabas, with great good humor, always -echoed both the Squire's ho--ho--ho! and Mrs. Hazeldean's ha--ha--ha! - -Not so the Parson. He had so keen and sportsmanlike an interest in the -game, that even his adversaries' mistakes ruffled him. And you would -hear him, with elevated voice and agitated gestures, laying down the -law, quoting Hoyle, appealing to all the powers of memory and common -sense against the very delinquencies by which he was enriched--a waste -of eloquence that always heightened the hilarity of Mr. and Mrs. -Hazeldean. While these four were thus engaged, Mrs. Dale, who had come -with her husband despite her headache, sate on the sofa beside Miss -Jemima, or rather beside Miss Jemima's Flimsey, which had already -secured the centre of the sofa, and snarled at the very idea of being -disturbed. And Master Frank--at a table by himself--was employed -sometimes in looking at his pumps, and sometimes at Gilray's -Caricatures, with which his mother had provided him for his intellectual -requirements. Mrs. Dale, in her heart, liked Miss Jemima better than -Mrs. Hazeldean, of whom she was rather in awe, notwithstanding they had -been little girls together, and occasionally still called each other -Harry and Carry. But those tender diminutives belonged to the "Dear" -genus, and were rarely employed by the ladies, except at those times -when--had they been little girls still, and the governess out of the -way--they would have slapped and pinched each other. Mrs. Dale was -still a very pretty woman, as Mrs. Hazeldean was still a very fine -woman. Mrs. Dale painted in water colors and sang, and made card-racks -and pen-holders, and was called an "elegant, accomplished woman." Mrs. -Hazeldean cast up the Squire's accounts, wrote the best part of his -letters, kept a large establishment in excellent order, and was called -"a clever, sensible woman." Mrs. Dale had headaches and nerves, Mrs. -Hazeldean had neither nerves nor headaches. Mrs. Dale said, "Harry had -no real harm in her, but was certainly very masculine." Mrs. Hazeldean -said, "Carry would be a good creature, but for her airs and graces." -Mrs. Dale said, "Mrs. Hazeldean was just made to be a country squire's -lady." Mrs. Hazeldean said, "Mrs. Dale was the last person in the world -who ought to have been a parson's wife." Carry, when she spoke of Harry -to a third person, said, "Dear Mrs. Hazeldean." Harry, when she referred -incidentally to Carry, said, "Poor Mrs. Dale." And now the reader knows -why Mrs. Hazeldean called Mrs. Dale "poor," at least as well as I do. -For, after all, the word belonged to that class in the female vocabulary -which may be called "obscure significants," resembling the Knox Ompax, -which hath so puzzled the inquirers into the Eleusinian Mysteries; the -application is rather to be illustrated than the meaning to be exactly -explained. - -"That's really a sweet little dog of yours, Jemima," said Mrs. Dale, who -was embroidering the word CAROLINE on the border of a cambric -pocket-handkerchief, but edging a little farther off, as she added, -"he'll not bite, will he?" "Dear me, no!" said Miss Jemima; but (she -added, in a confidential whisper), "don't say _he_--'tis a lady dog." -"Oh," said Mrs. Dale, edging off still farther, as if that confession of -the creature's sex did not serve to allay her apprehensions--"oh, then, -you carry your aversion to the gentlemen even to lap-dogs--that is being -consistent indeed, Jemima!" - -MISS JEMIMA.--"I had a gentleman dog once--a pug!--they are getting very -scarce now. I thought he was so fond of me--he snapped at every one -else; the battles I fought for him! Well, will you believe, I had been -staying with my friend Miss Smilecox at Cheltenham. Knowing that William -is so hasty, and his boots are so thick, I trembled to think what a kick -might do. So, on coming here, I left Buff--that was his name--with Miss -Smilecox." (A pause.) - -MRS. DALE, looking up languidly.--"Well, my love." - -MISS JEMIMA.--"Will you believe it, I say, when I returned to -Cheltenham, only three months afterward, Miss Smilecox had seduced his -affections from me, and the ungrateful creature did not even know me -again. A pug, too--yet people _say_ pugs are faithful!!! I am sure they -ought to be, nasty things. I have never had a gentleman dog since--they -are all alike, believe me--heartless, selfish creatures." - -MRS. DALE.--"Pugs? I dare say they are!" - -MISS JEMIMA, with spirit.--"MEN!--I told you it was a gentleman dog!" - -MRS. DALE, apologetically.--"True, my love, but the whole thing was so -mixed up!" - -MISS JEMIMA.--"You saw that cold-blooded case of Breach of Promise of -Marriage in the papers--an old wretch, too, of sixty-four. No age makes -them a bit better. And when one thinks that the end of all flesh is -approaching, and that--" - -MRS. DALE, quickly, for she prefers Miss Jemima's other hobby to that -black one upon which she is preparing to precede the bier of the -universe.--"Yes, my love, we'll avoid that subject, if you please. Mr. -Dale has his own opinions, and it becomes me, you know, as a parson's -wife," (said smilingly; Mrs. Dale has as pretty a dimple as any of Miss -Jemima's, and makes more of that one than Miss Jemima of three), "to -agree with him--that is, in theology." - -MISS JEMIMA, earnestly.--"But the thing is so clear, if you would but -look into--" - -MRS. DALE, putting her hand on Miss Jemima's lips playfully.--"Not a -word more. Pray, what do you think of the Squire's tenant at the Casino, -Signor Riccabocca? An interesting creature, is not he?" - -MISS JEMIMA.--"Interesting! Not to me. Interesting! Why is he -interesting?" - -Mrs. Dale is silent, and turns her handkerchief in her pretty little -white hands, appearing to contemplate the R. in Caroline. - -MISS JEMIMA, half pettishly, half coaxingly.--"Why is he interesting? I -scarcely ever looked at him; they say he smokes, and never eats. Ugly, -too!" - -MRS. DALE.--"Ugly--no. A fine head--very like Dante's--but what is -beauty?" - -MISS JEMIMA.--"Very true; what is it indeed? Yes, as you say, I think -there _is_ something interesting about him; he looks melancholy, but -that may be because he is poor." - -MRS. DALE.--"It is astonishing how little one feels poverty when one -loves. Charles and I were very poor once--before the Squire--." Mrs. -Dale paused, looked toward the Squire, and murmured a blessing, the -warmth of which brought tears into her eyes. "Yes," she added, after a -pause, "we were very poor, but we were happy even then, more thanks to -Charles than to me," and tears from a new source again dimmed those -quick, lively eyes, as the little woman gazed fondly on her husband, -whose brows were knit into a black frown over a bad hand. - -MISS JEMIMA.--"It is only those horrid men who think of money as a -source of happiness. I should be the last person to esteem a gentleman -less because he was poor." - -MRS. DALE.--"I wonder the Squire does not ask Signor Riccabocca here -more often. Such an acquisition _we_ find him!" - -The Squire's voice from the card table.--"Whom ought I to ask more -often, Mrs. Dale?" - -Parson's voice impatiently.--"Come--come--come, Squire; play to my queen -of diamonds--do!" - -SQUIRE.--"There, I trump it--pick up the trick, Mrs. H." - -PARSON.--"Stop! stop! trump my diamond?" - -The Captain, solemnly.--"Trick turned--play on, Squire." - -SQUIRE.--"The king of diamonds." - -MRS. HAZELDEAN.--"Lord! Hazeldean--why, that's the most barefaced -revoke--ha--ha--ha! trump the queen of diamonds and play out the king! -well I never--ha--ha--ha!" - -CAPTAIN BARNABAS, in tenor.--"Ha, ha, ha!" - -SQUIRE.--"And so I have, bless my soul--ho, ho, ho!" - -CAPTAIN BARNABAS, in bass.--"Ho--ho--ho." - -Parson's voice raised, but drowned by the laughter of his adversaries -and the firm clear tone of Captain Barnabas: "Three to our -score!--game!" - -SQUIRE, wiping his eyes.--"No help for it, Harry--deal for me! Whom -ought I to ask, Mrs. Dale? (waxing angry). First time I ever heard the -hospitality of Hazeldean called in question!" - -MRS. DALE.--"My dear sir, I beg a thousand pardons, but listeners--you -know the proverb." - -SQUIRE, growling like a bear.--"I hear nothing but proverbs ever since -we have had that Mounseer among us. Please to speak plainly, marm." - -MRS. DALE, sliding into a little temper at being thus roughly -accosted.--"It was of Mounseer, as you call him, that I spoke, Mr. -Hazeldean." - -SQUIRE.--"What! Rickeybockey?" - -MRS. DALE, attempting the pure Italian accentuation.--"Signor -Riccabocca." - -PARSON, slapping his cards on the table in despair: "Are we playing at -whist, or are we not?" - -The Squire, who is fourth player drops the king to Captain -Higginbotham's lead of the ace of hearts. Now the Captain has left -queen, knave, and two other hearts--four trumps to the queen and nothing -to win a trick with in the two other suits. This hand is therefore -precisely one of those in which, especially after the fall of that king -of hearts in the adversary's hand, it becomes a matter of reasonable -doubt whether to lead trumps or not. The Captain hesitates, and not -liking to play out his good hearts with the certainty of their being -trumped by the Squire, nor, on the other hand, liking to open the other -suits in which he has not a card that can assist his partner, resolves, -as becomes a military man, in such a dilemma, to make a bold push and -lead out trumps, in the chance of finding his partner strong, and so -bringing in his long suit. - -SQUIRE, taking advantage of the much meditating pause made -by the Captain.--"Mrs. Dale, it is not my fault. I have asked -Rickeybockey--time out of mind. But I suppose I am not fine enough for -those foreign chaps--he won't come--that's all I know!" - -PARSON, aghast at seeing the Captain play out trumps, of which he, Mr. -Dale, has only two, wherewith he expects to ruff the suit of spades of -which he has only one (the cards all falling in suits) while he has not -a single other chance of a trick in his hand: "Really, Squire, we had -better give up playing if you put out my partner in this extraordinary -way--jabber--jabber--jabber!" - -SQUIRE.--"Well, we must be good children, Harry. What!--trumps, Barney? -Thank ye for that!" And the Squire might well be grateful, for the -unfortunate adversary has led up to ace, king, knave--with two other -trumps. Squire takes the Parson's ten with his knave, and plays out ace, -king; then, having cleared all the trumps except the Captain's queen and -his own remaining two, leads off tierce major in that very suit of -spades of which the Parson has only one--and the Captain, indeed, but -two--forces out the Captain's queen, and wins the game in a canter. - -PARSON, with a look at the Captain which might have become the awful -brows of Jove, when about to thunder: "That, I suppose, is the new -fashioned London play! In my time the rule was 'First save the game, -then try to win it.'" - -CAPTAIN.--"Could not save it, sir." - -PARSON, exploding.--"Not save it!--two ruffs in my own hand--two tricks -certain till you took them out! Monstrous! The rashest trump."--Seizes -the cards--spreads them on the table, lip quivering, hands -trembling--tries to show how five tricks could have been gained--(N.B. -it is _short_ whist, which Captain Barnabas had introduced at the Hall) -can't make out more than four--Captain smiles triumphantly--Parson in a -passion, and not at all convinced, mixes all the cards together again, -and falling back in his chair, groans, with tears in his voice: "The -cruelest trump! the most wanton cruelty!" - -The Hazeldeans in chorus. "Ho--ho--ho! Ha--ha--ha!" - -The Captain, who does not laugh this time, and whose turn it is to deal, -shuffles the cards for the conquering game of the rubber with as much -caution and prolixity as Fabius might have employed in posting his men. -The Squire gets up to stretch his legs, and the insinuation against his -hospitality recurring to his thoughts, calls out to his wife--"Write to -Rickeybockey to-morrow yourself, Harry, and ask him to come and spend -two or three days here. There, Mrs Dale, you hear me?" - -"Yes," said Mrs. Dale, putting her hands to her ears in implied rebuke -at the loudness of the Squire's tone. "My dear sir, do remember that I'm -a sad nervous creature." - -"Beg pardon," muttered Mr. Hazeldean, turning to his son, who, having -got tired of the caricatures, had fished out for himself the great folio -County History, which was the only book in the library that the Squire -much valued, and which he usually kept under lock and key, in his study, -together with the field-books and steward's accounts, but which he had -reluctantly taken into the drawing-room that day, in order to oblige -Captain Higginbotham. For the Higginbothams--an old Saxon family, as the -name evidently denotes--had once possessed lands in that very county. -And the Captain--during his visits to Hazeldean Hall--was regularly in -the habit of asking to look into the County History, for the purpose of -refreshing his eyes, and renovating his sense of ancestral dignity with -the following paragraph therein: "To the left of the village of Dunder, -and pleasantly situated in a hollow, lies Botham Hall, the residence of -the ancient family of Higginbotham, as it is now commonly called. Yet it -appears by the county rolls, and sundry old deeds, that the family -formerly styled itself Higges, till, the Manor House lying in Botham, -they gradually assumed the appellation of Higges-in-botham, and in -process of time, yielding to the corruptions of the vulgar, -Higginbotham." - -"What, Frank! my County History!" cried the Squire. "Mrs. H., he has got -my County History!" - -"Well, Hazeldean, it is time he should know something about the County." - -"Ay, and History too," said Mrs. Dale, malevolently--for the little -temper was by no means blown over. - -FRANK.--"I'll not hurt it, I assure you, sir. But I'm very much -interested just at present." - -The CAPTAIN, putting down the cards to cut.--"You've got hold of that -passage about Botham Hall, page 706, eh?" - -FRANK.--"No; I was trying to make out how far it is to Mr. Leslie's -place, Rood Hall. Do you know, mother?" - -MRS. HAZELDEAN.--"I can't say I do. The Leslies don't mix with the -county; and Rood lies very much out of the way." - -FRANK.--"Why don't they mix with the county?" - -MRS. HAZELDEAN.--"I believe they are poor, and therefore I suppose they -are proud: they are an old family." - -PARSON, thrumming on the table with great impatience: "Old -fiddledee!--talking of old families when the cards have been shuffled -this half hour." - -CAPTAIN BARNABAS.--"Will you cut for your partner, ma'am?" - -SQUIRE, who has been listening to Frank's inquiries with a musing air: -"Why do you want to know the distance to Rood Hall?" - -FRANK, rather hesitatingly.--"Because Randal Leslie is there for the -holidays, sir." - -PARSON.--"Your wife has cut for you, Mr. Hazeldean. I don't think it was -quite fair; and my partner has turned up a deuce--deuce of hearts. -Please to come and play, if you _mean_ to play." - -The Squire returns to the table, and in a few minutes the game is -decided, by a dexterous finesse of the Captain, against the Hazeldeans. -The clock strikes ten: the servants enter with a tray; the Squire counts -up his and his wife's losings; and the Captain and Parson divide sixteen -shillings between them. - -SQUIRE.--"There, Parson, I hope now you'll be in a better humor. You win -enough out of us to set up a coach and four." - -"Tut," muttered the parson; "at the end of the year, I'm not a penny the -richer for it all." - -And, indeed, monstrous as that assertion seemed, it was perfectly true, -for the Parson portioned out his gains into three divisions. One-third -he gave to Mrs. Dale, for her own special pocket-money; what became of -the second third he never owned, even to his better half--but certain it -was, that every time the Parson won seven-and-sixpence, half-a-crown -which nobody could account for found its way to the poor-box; while the -remaining third, the Parson, it is true, openly and avowedly retained: -but I have no manner of doubt that, at the year's end, it got to the -poor quite as safely as if it had been put into the box. - -The party had now gathered round the tray, and were helping themselves -to wine and water, or wine without water--except Frank, who still -remained poring over the map in the County History, with his head -leaning on his hands, and his fingers plunged in his hair. - -"Frank," said Mrs. Hazeldean, "I never saw you so studious before." - -Frank started up, and colored, as if ashamed of being accused of too -much study in any thing. - -The SQUIRE, with a little embarrassment in his voice: "Pray, Frank, what -do you know of Randal Leslie?" - -"Why, sir, he is at Eton." - -"What sort of a boy is he?" asked Mrs. Hazeldean. - -Frank hesitated, as if reflecting, and then answered: "They say he is -the cleverest boy in the school. But then he saps." - -"In other words," said Mr. Dale with proper parsonic gravity, "he -understands that he was sent to school to learn his lessons, and he -learns them. You call that sapping--I call it doing his duty. But pray, -who and what is this Randal Leslie, that you look so discomposed, -Squire?" - -"Who and what is he?" repeated the Squire, in a low growl. "Why, you -know, Mr. Audley Egerton married Miss Leslie the great heiress, and this -boy is a relation of hers. I may say," added the Squire, "that he is as -near a relation of mine, for his grandmother was a Hazeldean. But all I -know about the Leslies is, that Mr. Egerton, as I am told, having no -children of his own, took up young Randal, (when his wife died, poor -woman), pays for his schooling, and has, I suppose, adopted the boy as -his heir. Quite welcome. Frank and I want nothing from Mr. Audley -Egerton, thank heaven." - -"I can well believe in your brother's generosity to his wife's kindred," -said the Parson, sturdily, "for I am sure Mr. Egerton is a man of strong -feeling." - -"What the deuce do you know about Mr. Egerton? I don't suppose you could -ever have even spoken to him." - -"Yes," said the Parson, coloring up and looking confused, "I had some -conversation with him once;" and observing the Squire's surprise, he -added--"when I was curate at Lansmere--and about a painful business -connected with the family of one of my parishioners." - -"Oh! one of your parishioners at Lansmere--one of the constituents Mr. -Audley Egerton threw over, after all the pains I had taken to give him -his seat. Rather odd you should never have mentioned this before, Mr. -Dale!" - -"My dear sir," said the Parson, sinking his voice, and in a mild tone of -conciliatory expostulation, "you are so irritable whenever Mr. Egerton's -name is mentioned at all." - -"Irritable!" exclaimed the Squire, whose wrath had been long simmering, -and now fairly boiled over. "Irritable, sir! I should think so; a man -for whom I stood godfather at the hustings, Mr. Dale! a man for whose -sake I was called a 'prize ox,' Mr. Dale! a man for whom I was hissed in -a market-place, Mr. Dale! a man for whom I was shot at, in cold blood, -by an officer in his Majesty's service, who lodged a ball in my right -shoulder, Mr. Dale! a man who had the ingratitude, after all this, to -turn his back on the landed interest--to deny that there was any -agricultural distress in a year which broke three of the best farmers I -ever had, Mr. Dale!--a man, sir, who made a speech on the Currency which -was complimented by Ricardo, a Jew! Good heavens! a pretty parson you -are, to stand up for a fellow complimented by a Jew! Nice ideas you must -have of Christianity. Irritable, sir!" now fairly roared the Squire, -adding to the thunder of his voice the cloud of a brow, which evinced a -menacing ferocity that might have done honor to Bussy D'Amboise or -Fighting Fitzgerald. "Sir, if that man had not been my own half-brother, -I'd have called him out. I have stood my ground before now. I have had a -ball in my right shoulder. Sir, I'd have called him out." - -"Mr. Hazeldean! Mr. Hazeldean! I'm shocked at you," cried the Parson; -and, putting his lips close to the Squire's ear, he went on in a -whisper: "What an example to your son! You'll have him fighting duels -one of these days, and nobody to blame but yourself." - -This warning cooled Mr. Hazeldean; and muttering, "Why the deuce did you -set me off?" he fell back into his chair, and began to fan himself with -his pocket-handkerchief. - -The Parson skillfully and remorselessly pursued the advantage he had -gained. "And now, that you may have it in your power, to show civility -and kindness to a boy whom Mr. Egerton has taken up, out of respect to -his wife's memory--a kinsman you say of your own--and who has never -offended you--a boy whose diligence in his studies proves him to be an -excellent companion to your son. Frank," (here the Parson raised his -voice), "I suppose you wanted to call on young Leslie, as you were -studying the county map so attentively?" - -"Why, yes," answered Frank, rather timidly. "If my father did not object -to it. Leslie has been very kind to me, though he is in the sixth form, -and, indeed, almost the head of the school." - -"Ah," said Mrs. Hazeldean, "one studious boy has a fellow-feeling for -another; and though you enjoy your holidays, Frank, I am sure you read -hard at school." - -Mrs. Dale opened her eyes very wide, and stared in astonishment. - -MRS. HAZELDEAN retorted that look with great animation. "Yes, Carry," -said she, tossing her head, "though _you_ may not think Frank clever, -his master finds him so. He got a prize last half. That beautiful book, -Frank--hold up your head, my love--what did you get it for?" - -FRANK, reluctantly.--"Verses, ma'am." - -MRS. HAZELDEAN, with triumph.--"Verses!--there, Carry, verses!" - -FRANK, in a hurried tone.--"Yes, but Leslie wrote them for me." - -MRS. HAZELDEAN, recoiling.--"O Frank! a prize for what another did for -you--that was mean." - -FRANK, ingenuously.--"You can't be more ashamed, mother, than I was when -they gave me the prize." - -MRS. DALE, though previously provoked at being snubbed by Harry, now -showing the triumph of generosity over temper: "I beg your pardon, -Frank. Your mother must be as proud of that shame as she was of the -prize." - -Mrs. Hazeldean puts her arm round Frank's neck, smiles beamingly on Mrs. -Dale, and converses with her son in a low tone about Randal Leslie. Miss -Jemima now approached Carry, and said in an "aside,"--"But we are -forgetting poor Mr. Riccabocca. Mrs. Hazeldean, though the dearest -creature in the world, has such a blunt way of inviting people--don't -you think if you were to say a word to him, Carry?" - -MRS. DALE kindly, as she wraps her shawl round her: "Suppose you write -the note yourself. Meanwhile I shall see him, no doubt." - -PARSON, putting his hand on the Squire's shoulder: "You forgive my -impertinence, my kind friend. We parsons, you know, are apt to take -strange liberties, when we honor and love folks, as I do you." - -"Pish!" said the Squire, but his hearty smile came to his lips in spite -of himself: "You always get your own way, and I suppose Frank must ride -over and see this pet of my--" - -"_Brother's_," quoth the Parson, concluding the sentence in a tone which -gave to the sweet word so sweet a sound that the Squire would not -correct the Parson, as he had been about to correct himself. - -Mr. Dale moved on; but as he passed Captain Barnabas, the benignant -character of his countenance changed sadly. - -"The cruelest trump, Captain Higginbotham!" said he sternly, and stalked -by--majestic. - -The night was so fine that the Parson and his wife, as they walked home, -made a little _detour_ through the shrubbery. - -MRS. DALE.--"I think I have done a good piece of work to-night." - -PARSON, rousing himself from a reverie.--"Have you, Carry?--it will be a -very pretty handkerchief." - -MRS. DALE.--"Handkerchief--nonsense, dear. Don't you think it would be a -very happy thing for both, if Jemima and Signor Riccabocca could be -brought together?" - -PARSON.--"Brought together!" - -MRS. DALE.--"You do snap one up so, my dear--I mean if I could make a -match of it." - -PARSON.--"I think Riccabocca is a match already, not only for Jemima, -but yourself into the bargain." - -MRS. DALE, smiling loftily.--"Well, we shall see. Was not Jemima's -fortune about £4000?" - -PARSON dreamily, for he is relapsing fast into his interrupted reverie: -"Ay--ay--I daresay." - -MRS. DALE.--"And she must have saved! I dare say it is nearly £6000 by -this time; eh! Charles dear, you really are so--good gracious, what's -that!" - -As Mrs. Dale made this exclamation they had just emerged from the -shrubbery, into the village green. - -PARSON.--"What's what?" - -MRS. DALE, pinching her husband's arm very nippingly.--"That -thing--there--there." - -PARSON.--"Only the new stocks, Carry; I don't wonder they frighten you, -for you are a very sensible woman. I only wish they would frighten the -Squire." - - -CHAPTER XIII. - - _Supposed to be a Letter from Mrs. Hazeldean to ---- Riccabocca, - Esq., The Casino; but edited, and indeed composed, by Miss Jemima - Hazeldean._ - -"DEAR SIR--To a feeling heart it must always be painful to give pain to -another, and (though I am sure unconsciously) you have given the -_greatest_ pain to poor Mr. Hazeldean and myself, indeed to _all_ our -little circle, in so cruelly refusing our attempts to become better -acquainted with a gentleman we so highly ESTEEM. Do, pray, dear sir, -make us the _amende honorable_, and give us the _pleasure_ of your -company for a few days at the Hall! May we expect you Saturday -next?--our dinner-hour is six o'clock. - -"With the best compliments of Mr. and Miss Jemima Hazeldean. - -"Believe me, my dear sir, yours truly, - - "H.H. -"_Hazeldean Hall._" - -Miss Jemima having carefully sealed this note, which Mrs. Hazeldean had -very willingly deputed her to write, took it herself into the -stable-yard, in order to give the groom proper instructions to wait for -an answer. But while she was speaking to the man, Frank, equipped for -riding with more than his usual dandyism, came also into the yard, -calling for his pony in a loud voice, and singling out the very groom -whom Miss Jemima was addressing--for, indeed, he was the smartest of all -in the Squire's stables--told him to saddle the gray pad, and accompany -the pony. - -"No, Frank," said Miss Jemima, "you can't have George; your father wants -him to go on a message--you can take Mat." - -"Mat, indeed!" said Frank, grumbling with some reason; for Mat was a -surly old fellow, who tied a most indefensible neckcloth, and always -contrived to have a great patch in his boots; besides, he called Frank -"Master," and obstinately refused to trot down hill; "Mat, indeed!--let -Mat take the message, and George go with me." - -But Miss Jemima had also her reasons for rejecting Mat. Mat's foible was -not servility, and he always showed true English independence in all -houses where he was not invited to take his ale in the servants' hall. -Mat might offend Signor Riccabocca, and spoil all. An animated -altercation ensued, in the midst of which the Squire and his wife -entered the yard, with the intention of driving in the conjugal gig to -the market town. The matter was referred to the natural umpire by both -the contending parties. - -The Squire looked with great contempt on his son. "And what do you want -a groom at all for? Are you afraid of tumbling off the pony?" - -FRANK.--"No, sir; but I like to go as a gentleman, when I pay a visit to -a gentleman!" - -SQUIRE, in high wrath.--"You precious puppy! I think I'm as good a -gentleman as you, any day, and I should like to know when you ever saw -me ride to call on a neighbor, with a fellow jingling at my heels, like -that upstart Ned Spankie, whose father kept a cotton-mill. First time I -ever heard of a Hazeldean thinking a livery-coat was necessary to prove -his gentility!" - -MRS. HAZELDEAN, observing Frank coloring, and about to reply.--"Hush, -Frank, never answer your father--and you are going to call on Mr. -Leslie?" - -"Yes, ma'am, and I am very much obliged to my father for letting me," -said Frank, taking the Squire's hand. - -"Well, but, Frank," continued Mrs. Hazeldean, "I think you heard that -the Leslies were very poor." - -FRANK.--"Eh, mother?" - -MRS. HAZELDEAN.--"And would you run the chance of wounding the pride of -a gentleman, as well born as yourself, by affecting any show of being -richer than he is?" - -SQUIRE, with great admiration.--"Harry, I'd give £10 to have said that!" - -FRANK, leaving the Squire's hand to take his mother's.--"You're quite -right, mother--nothing could be more _snobbish_!" - -SQUIRE.--"Give us your fist too, sir; you'll be a chip of the old block, -after all." - -Frank smiled, and walked off to his pony. - -MRS. HAZELDEAN to Miss Jemima.--"Is that the note you were to write for -me?" - -MISS JEMIMA.--"Yes, I supposed you did not care about seeing it, so I -have sealed it and given it to George." - -MRS. HAZELDEAN.--"But Frank will pass close by the Casino on his way to -the Leslies'. It may be more civil if he leaves the note himself." - -MISS JEMIMA, hesitatingly.--"Do you think so?" - -MRS. HAZELDEAN.--"Yes, certainly. Frank--Frank--as you pass by the -Casino, call on Mr. Riccabocca, give this note, and say we shall be -heartily glad if he will come." - -Frank nods. - -"Stop a bit," cried the Squire. "If Rickeybockey's at home, 'tis ten to -one if he don't ask you to take a glass of wine! If he does, mind, 'tis -worse than asking you to take a turn on the rack. Faugh! you remember, -Harry?--I thought it was all up with me." - -"Yes," cried Mrs. Hazeldean, "for Heaven's sake, not a drop! Wine -indeed!" - -"Don't talk of it," cried the Squire, making a wry face. - -"I'll take care, sir!" said Frank, laughing as he disappeared within the -stable, followed by Miss Jemima, who now coaxingly makes it up with him, -and does not leave off her admonitions to be extremely polite to the -poor foreign gentleman, till Frank gets his foot into the stirrup; and -the pony, who knows who he has got to deal with, gives a preparatory -plunge or two and then darts out of the yard. - -_To be continued._ - - - - -[From Chambers's Edinburgh Journal.] - -THE EVERY-DAY MARRIED LADY. - - -It might be supposed that the every-day married lady was formerly the -every-day young lady, and has now merely changed her condition. But this -is not the case, for nothing is more common than to see the most holiday -spinsters settle down into the most working-day matrons. The married -lady, in fact, of the species we would describe, has no descent in -particular. If you can imagine a pupa coming into the world of itself -without any connection with the larva, or an imago unconscious of the -pupa, that is the every-day married lady. She is born at the altar, -conjured into life by the ceremonial, and having utterly lost her -individual existence, becomes from that moment a noun of multitude. -People may say, "Oh, this is our old acquaintance, Miss Smith!" but that -is only calling names, for the identity is gone. If she is any thing at -all but what appertains to the present, she is the late Miss Smith, who -has survived herself, and changed into a family. - -We would insist upon this peculiarity of the every-day married -lady--that her existence is collective. Her very language is in the -plural number--such as we, ours, and us. She respects the rights of -paternity so much, as never to permit herself to talk of her children as -peculiarly her own. Her individuality being merged in her husband and -their actual or possible offspring, she has no private thoughts, no -wishes, no hopes, no fears but for the concern. And this is all the -better for her tranquillity: for although a part of her husband, she -does not quite fancy that he is a part of her. She leaves at least the -business to his management, and if she does advise and suggest on -occasions, she thinks that somehow things will come out very well. She -feels that she is only a passenger; and although, as such, she may -recommend the skipper to shorten sail when weathering a critical point, -or, for the sake of safety, to come to anchor in the middle of the sea, -she has still a certain faith in his skill or luck, and sleeps quietly -in the storm. For this reason the every day married lady is comfortable -in the figure, and has usually good round features of her own. The Miss -Smith she has survived had a slender waist and small delicate hands; but -this lady is a very tolerable armful, and the wedding-ring makes such a -hollow on her finger, that one might think it would be difficult to get -off. - -The every-day married lady is commonly reported to be selfish; but this -is a mistake. At least her selfishness embraces the whole family circle: -it has no personality. When the wife of a poor man, she will sit up half -the night sewing and darning, but not a stitch for herself: that can be -done at any time; but the boys must go comfortably to school, and the -girls look genteel on the street, and the husband--to think of Mr. Brown -wanting a button on his shirt! She looks selfish, because her eye is -always on her own, and because she talks of what she is always thinking -about; but how can one be selfish who is perpetually postponing herself, -who dresses the plainest, eats the coarsest, and sleeps the least of the -family? She never puts herself forward in company unless her young -ladies want backing; but yet she never feels herself overlooked, for -every word, every glance bestowed upon them, is communicated -electrically to her. She is, indeed, in such perfect _rapport_ with the -concern, that it is no uncommon thing for her to go home chuckling with -amusement, overpowered with delight, from a party at which she had not -once opened her lips. This is the party which she pronounces to have -"gone off" well. Half-observant people fancy that the calculation is -made on the score of the jellies and ice, and singing and dancing, and -so on, and influenced by a secret comparison with her own achievements; -but she has more depth than they imagine, and finer sympathies--they -don't understand her. - -Not that the every-day married lady is unsocial--not at all: all -comfortable people are social; but she is partial to her own class, and -does not care to carry her confidences out of it. She has several -intimate friends whom she is fond of meeting; but besides that, she is a -sort of freemason in her way, and finds out every-day people by the word -and sign. Rank has very little to do with this society, as you will find -if you observed her sitting at a cottage door, where, in purchasing a -draught of milk, she has recognized a sister. If these two every-day -married women had been rocked in the same cradle, they could not talk -more intimately; and, indeed, they have heavy matters to talk about, for -of all the babies that ever came into this breathing world, theirs were -the most extraordinary babies. The miracle is, that any of them are -extant after such outrageous measles, and scarlet fevers, and -chicken-poxes--prophesied of, so to speak, even before their birth, by -memorabilia that might have alarmed Dr. Simson. The interlocutors part -very well pleased with each other: the cottager proud to find that she -has so much in common with a real lady, and the lady pronouncing the -reflection of herself she had met with to be a most sensible individual. - -Although careless in this instance of the circumstance of rank, the -every-day married lady has but little sympathy with the class of -domestic servants. She looks upon her servants, in fact, as in some sort -her natural enemies, and her life may therefore be said to be passed at -the best in a state of armed neutrality. She commonly proceeds on the -allowance system; and this is the best way, as it prevents so many -sickening apprehensions touching that leg of mutton. Indeed the appetite -of servants is a constant puzzle to her: she can not make it out. She -has a sharp eye, too, upon the policeman, and wonders what on earth he -always looks down her area for. As for followers, that is quite out of -the question. Servants stay long enough upon their errands to talk to -all the men and women in the parish; and the idea of having an -acquaintance now and then besides--more especially of the male -sex--tramping into the kitchen to see them, is wildly unnatural. She -tells of a sailor whom she once detected sitting in the coolest possible -manner by the fireside. When she appeared, the man rose up and -bowed--and then sat down again. Think of that! The artful girl said he -was her brother!--and here all the every-day married ladies in the -company laugh bitterly. Since that time she has been haunted by a -sailor, and smells tar in all sorts of places. - -If she ever has a passable servant, whom she is able to keep for a -reasonable number of years, she gets gradually attached to her, and pets -and coddles her. Betty is a standing testimony to her nice -discrimination, and a perpetual premium on her successful rearing of -servants. But alas! the end of it all is, that the respectable creature -gets married to the green grocer, and leaves her indulgent mistress: a -striking proof of the heartlessness and ingratitude of the whole tribe! -If it is not marriage, however, that calls her away, but bad health; if -she goes home unwell, or is carried to the infirmary--what then? Why, -then, we are sorry to say, she passes utterly away from the observation -and memory of the every-day married lady. This may be reckoned a bad -trait in her character; and yet it is in some degree allied to the great -virtue of her life. Servants are the evil principle in her household, -which it is her business to combat and hold in obedience. A very large -proportion of her time is spent in this virtuous warfare; and success on -her part ought to be considered deserving of the gratitude of the -vanquished, without imposing burdens upon the victor. - -The every-day married lady is the inventor of a thing which few foreign -nations have as yet adopted either in their houses or languages. This -thing is Comfort. The word can not well be defined, the items that enter -into its composition being so numerous, that a description would read -like a catalogue. We all understand, however, what it means, although -few of us are sensible of the source of the enjoyment. A widower has -very little comfort, and a bachelor none at all; while a married -man--provided his wife be an every-day married lady--enjoys it in -perfection. But he enjoys it unconsciously, and therefore ungratefully: -it is a thing of course--a necessary, a right, of the want of which he -complains without being distinctly sensible of its presence. Even when -it acquires sufficient intensity to arrest his attention, when his -features and his heart soften, and he looks round with a half smile on -his face, and says, "This is comfort!" it never occurs to him to inquire -where it all comes from. His every-day wife is sitting quietly in the -corner: it was not she who lighted the fire, or dressed the dinner, or -drew the curtains, and it never occurs to him to think that all these, -and a hundred other circumstances of the moment, owe their virtue to her -spiriting, and that the comfort which enriches the atmosphere, which -sparkles in the embers, which broods in the shadowy parts of the room, -which glows in his own full heart, emanates from her, and encircles her -like an aureola. We have suggested, on a former occasion, that our -conventional notions of the sex, in its gentle, modest, and retiring -characteristics, are derived from the every-day young lady; and in like -manner we venture to opine that the every-day married lady is _the_ -English wife of foreigners and moralists. Thus she is a national -character, and a personage of history; and yet there she sits all the -while in that corner, knitting something or other, and thinking to -herself that she had surely smelt a puff of tar as she was passing the -pantry. - -The curious thing is, that the dispenser of comfort can do with a very -small share of it herself. When her husband does not dine at home, it is -surprising what odds and ends are sufficient to make up the dinner. -Perhaps the best part of it is a large slice of bread-and-butter; for it -is wasting the servants' time to make them cook when there is _nobody_ -to be at the table. But she makes up for this at tea: that _is_ a -comfortable meal for the every-day married lady. The husband, a -matter-of-fact, impassive fellow, swallows down his two or three cups in -utter unconsciousness of the poetry of the occasion; while the wife -pauses on every sip, drinks in the aroma as well as the infusion, fills -slowly and lingeringly out, and creams and sugars as if her hands -dallied over a labor of love. With her daughters, in the mean time, -grown up, or even half-grown up, she exchanges words and looks of -motherly and masonic intelligence: she is moulding them to comfort, -initiating them in every-dayism; and as their heads bend companionably -toward each other, you see at a glance that the girls will do honor to -their breeding. The husband calls this "dawdling," and already begins to -fret. Let him: he knows nothing about it. - -It is surprising the affection of the daughters for their every-day -mother. Not that the sentiment is steady and uniform in its expression, -for sometimes one might suppose mamma to be forgotten, or at least -considered only as a daily necessary not requiring any special notice. -But wait till a grief comes, and mark to what bosom the panting girl -flies for refuge and comfort; see with what _abandon_ she flings her -arms round that maternal neck, and with what a passionate burst the -hitherto repressed tears gush forth. This is something more than habit, -something more than filial trust. There are more senses than five in -human nature--or seven either: there is a fine and subtle link between -these two beings--a common atmosphere of thought and feeling, impalpable -and imperceptible, yet necessary to the souls of both. If you doubt -it--if you doubt that there is a moral attraction in the every-day -married lady, irrespective of blood-affinity, carry your view forward to -another generation, and interrogate those witnesses who are never -mistaken in character, and who never give false testimony--little -children. They dote on their every-day grandmamma. Their natures, not -yet seared and hardened by the world, understand hers; and with -something of the fresh perfume of Eden about them still, they recognize -instinctively those blessed souls to whom God has given to love little -children. - -This is farther shown when the every-day married lady dies. What is -there in the character we have drawn to account for the shock the whole -family receives? The husband feels as if a thunder-cloud had fallen, and -gathered, and blackened upon his heart, through which he could never -again see the sun. The grown-up children, especially the females, are -distracted; "their purposes are broken off;" they desire to have nothing -more to do with the world: they lament as those who will not be -comforted. Even common acquaintances look round them, when they enter -the house, with uneasiness and anxiety-- - - "We miss her when the morning calls, - As one that mingled in our mirth: - We miss her when the evening falls-- - A trifle wanted on the earth! - - "Some fancy small, or subtle thought, - Is checked ere to its blossom grown; - Some chain is broken that we wrought, - Now--she hath flown!" - -And so she passes away--this every-day married lady--leaving memorials -of her commonplace existence every where throughout the circle in which -she lived, moved, and had her being, and after having stamped herself -permanently upon the constitution, both moral and physical, of her -descendants. - - - - -ANECDOTE OF A SINGER. - - -Signora Grassini, the great Italian singer, died a few months since at -Milan. She was distinguished not only for her musical talents, but also -for her beauty and powers of theatrical expression. One evening in 1810, -she and Signor Crescentini performed together at the Tuileries, and sang -in "Romeo and Juliet." At the admirable scene in the third act, the -Emperor Napoleon applauded vociferously, and Talma, the great tragedian, -who was among the audience, wept with emotion. After the performance was -ended, the Emperor conferred the decoration of a high order on -Crescentini, and sent Grassini a scrap of paper, on which was written, -"Good for 20,000 livres.--NAPOLEON." - -"Twenty thousand francs!" said one of her friends--"the sum is a large -one." - -"It will serve as a dowry for one of my little nieces," replied Grassini -quietly. - -Indeed few persons were ever more generous, tender, and considerate -toward their family than this great singer. - -Many years afterward, when the Empire had crumbled into dust, carrying -with it in its fall, among other things, the rich pension of Signora -Grassini, she happened to be at Bologna. There another of her nieces was -for the first time presented to her, with a request that she would do -something for her young relative. The little girl was extremely pretty, -but not, her friends thought, fitted for the stage, as her voice was a -feeble contralto. Her aunt asked her to sing; and when the timid voice -had sounded a few notes, "Dear child," said Grassini, embracing her, -"you will not want _me_ to assist you. Those who called your voice a -contralto were ignorant of music. You have one of the finest sopranos in -the world, and will far excel me as a singer. Take courage, and work -hard, my love: your throat will win a shower of gold." The young girl -did not disappoint her aunt's prediction. She still lives, and her name -is Giulia Grisi. - - - - -[From Chambers's Edinburgh Journal.] - -WHEN THE SUMMER COMES. - - -I once knew a little boy, a little child of three years old; one of -those bright creatures whose fair loveliness seems more of heaven than -of earth--even at a passing glimpse stirring our hearts, and filling -them with purer and holier thought. But this, the little Francie, was -more of a cherub than an angel,--as we picture them--with his gladsome -hazel eyes, his dazzling fairness, his clustering golden hair, and his -almost winged step. Such he was, at least, until sickness laid its heavy -hand on him; then, indeed, when, after days of burning, wasting -fever--hours of weary restlessness--the little hand at last lay -motionless outside the scarcely whiter coverlet of his tiny bed, the -fair, still head, pressed down upon the pillow, and the pale face gazing -with the silent wonder of returning consciousness on the anxious ones -around it; then, indeed, a bright yet pitying look would flit across it, -or dwell in the earnest eyes--a look such as we assign to angels in our -dreams, when some fond fancy seems to bring them near us, weeping for -mortal griefs beyond their remedy. - -It was a strange sickness for one so young--the struggle of typhus fever -with a baby frame; but life and youth obtained the victory; and quicker -even than hope could venture to expect, the pulses rallied, the cheeks -grew round and rosy, and the little wasted limbs filled up again. Health -was restored--health, but not strength: we thought this for a while. We -did not wonder that the weakened limbs refused their office, and still -we waited on in hope, until days, and even weeks, passed by: then it was -found that the complaint had left its bitter sting, and little Francie -could not walk a step, or even stand. - -Many and tedious and painful were the remedies resorted to; yet the -brave little heart bore stoutly up, with that wonderful fortitude, -almost heroism, which all who have watched by suffering childhood, when -the tractable spirit bends to its early discipline, must at some time or -other have remarked. Francie's fortitude might have afforded an example -to many; but a dearer lesson was given in the hopeful spirit with which -the little fellow himself noted the effect of each distressing remedy, -marking each stage of progress, and showing off with eager gladness -every step attained, from the first creeping on the hands and knees, to -the tiptoe journey round the room, holding on by chairs and tables; then -to the clinging to some loving hand; and then, at last, the graceful -balancing of his light body, until he stood quite erect alone, and so -moved slowly on. - -It was in autumn this illness seized on the little one, just when the -leaves were turning, and the orchard fruits becoming ripe. His nurse -attributed it all to his sitting on a grassy bank at play on one of -those uncertain autumn days; but he, in his childish way, always -maintained "It was Francie himself--eating red berries in the holly -bower." However this may have been, the season and the time seemed -indelibly impressed upon his mind. In all his long confinement to the -house, his thoughts continually turned to outward objects, to the -external face of nature and the season's change, and evermore his little -word of hope was this, "When the _summer_ comes!" - -He kept it up throughout the long winter, and the bleak cold spring. A -fairy little carriage had been provided for him, in which, well wrapped -up from the cold, and resting on soft cushions, he was lightly drawn -along by a servant, to his own great delight, and the admiration of many -a young beholder. But when any one--attempting to reconcile him the -better to his position--expatiated on the beauty or comfort of his new -acquisition, his eager look and word would show how far he went beyond -it, as, quickly interrupting, he would exclaim, "Wait till the summer -comes--then Francie will walk again!" - -During the winter there was a fearful storm, it shook the windows, -moaned in the old trees, and howled down the chimneys with a most -menacing voice. Older hearts than Francie's quailed that night, and he, -unable to sleep, lay listening to it all--quiet, but asking many a -question, as his excited fancy formed similitudes to the sounds. One -time it was poor little children cruelly turned out, and wailing; then -something trilling, with its last hoarse cry; then wolves and bears, -from far-off other lands. But all the while Francie knew he was snug and -safe himself: no fears disturbed him, whatever the noise may have done. -Throughout the whole of it he carried his one steadfast hope, and, in -the morning telling of it all, with all his marvelous thoughts, he -finished his relation with the never-failing word of comfort, "Ah! there -shall be no loud wind, no waking nights, when once the summer comes!" - -The summer came with its glad birds and flowers, its balmy air; and who -can paint the exquisite delight of the suffering child that had waited -for it so long? Living almost continually in the open air he seemed to -expect fresh health and strength from each reviving breath he drew, and -every day would deem himself capable of some greater effort, as if to -prove that his expectation had not been in vain. - -One lovely day he and his little playfellows were in a group amusing -themselves in part of the garden, when some friends passed through. -Francie, longing to show how much he could do, entreated hard to be -taken with them "along the walk, just to the holly bower." His request -was granted, and on he did walk; quick at first, then slowly slower: but -still upheld by his strong faith in the summer's genial influence, he -would not rest in any of the offered arms, though the fitful color went -and came, and the pauses grew more and more frequent. No, with a heavy -sigh he admitted, "'Tis a very, very long walk _now_; but Francie must -not be tired: sure the summer is come." And so, determined not to admit -fatigue in the face of the season's bright proofs around him, he -succeeded in accomplishing his little task at last. - -Thus the summer passed away, and again came the changing autumn, acting -on poor little Francie to a degree he had never reckoned on, and with -its chill, damp airs, nearly throwing him back again. With a greater -effort even than before, he had again tried the walk to the holly bower, -the scene of his self-accusing misdemeanor as the cause of all his -sufferings. He sat down to rest; above his head, as the autumnal breeze -swept through them, "the polished leaves and berries red did rustling -play;" and as little Francie looked upward toward them, a memory of the -former year, and of all the time that had passed since then, seemed for -the first time mournfully to steal over his heart. He nestled in closer -to his mother's side; and still looking up, but with more thoughtful -eyes, he said, "Mamma, is the summer _quite_ gone?" - -"Yes, my darling. Don't you see the scarlet berries, the food of winter -for the little birds?" - -"Quite gone, mamma, and Francie not quite well?" - -His mother looked away; she could not bear her child to see the -tell-tale tears his mournful little words called up, or know the sad -echo returned by her own desponding thoughts. There was a moment's -silence, only broken by the blackbird's song; and then she felt a soft, -a little kiss, upon her hand, and looking down, she saw her darling's -face--yes, surely now it was as an angel's--gazing upward to her, -brightly beaming, brighter than ever; and his rosy lips just parted with -their own sweet smile again, as he exclaimed in joyous tones, "Mamma, -the summer will come again!" - -Precious was that heaven-born word of childish faith to the careworn -mother, to cheer her then, and, with its memory of hope, still to -sustain her through many an after-experiment and anxious watch, until, -at last, she reaped her rich reward in the complete realization of her -bright one's hope. Precious to more than her such words may be, if -bravely stemming our present trouble, whatsoe'er it be--bravely -enduring, persevering, encouraging others and ourselves, even as that -little child--we hold the thought, that as the revolving year brings -round its different seasons, as day succeeds to night--and even as -surely as we look for this, and know it--so to the trusting heart there -comes a time--it may be soon or late, it may be now, or it may be -_then_--when this grief or grievance will have passed away; and so -'twill all seem nothing--when the summer comes! - - - - -[From Chambers's Edinburgh Journal.] - -VILLAINY OUTWITTED--FROM THE RECOLLECTIONS OF A POLICE OFFICER. - - -The respectable agent of a rather eminent French house arrived one -morning in great apparent distress at Scotland Yard, and informed the -superintendent that he had just sustained a great, almost ruinous loss, -in notes of the Bank of England, and commercial bills of exchange, -besides a considerable sum in gold. He had, it appeared, been absent in -Paris about ten days, and on his return but a few hours previously, -discovered that his iron chest had been completely rifled during his -absence. False keys must have been used, as the empty chest was found -locked, and no sign of violence could be observed. He handed in full -written details of the property carried off, the numbers of the notes, -and every other essential particular. The first step taken was to -ascertain if any of the notes had been tendered at the bank. Not one had -been presented; payment was of course stopped, and advertisements -descriptive of the bills of exchange, as well as of the notes, were -inserted in the evening and following morning papers. A day or two -afterward, a considerable reward was offered for such information as -might lead to the apprehension of the offenders. No result followed; and -in spite of the active exertions of the officers employed, not the -slightest clew could be obtained to the perpetrators of the robbery. The -junior partner in the firm, M. Bellebon, in the mean time arrived in -England, to assist in the investigation, and was naturally extremely -urgent in his inquiries; but the mystery which enveloped the affair -remained impenetrable. At last a letter, bearing the St. Martin-le-Grand -post-mark, was received by the agent, M. Alexandre le Breton, which -contained an offer to surrender the whole of the plunder, with the -exception of the gold, for the sum of one thousand pounds. The property -which had been abstracted was more than ten times that sum, and had been -destined by the French house to meet some heavy liabilities falling due -in London very shortly. Le Breton had been ordered to pay the whole -amount into Hoare's to the account of the firm, and had indeed been -severely blamed for not having done so as he received the different -notes and bills; and it was on going to the chest immediately on his -return from Paris, for the purpose of fulfilling the peremptory -instructions he had received, that M. le Breton discovered the robbery. - -The letter went on to state that should the offer be acceded to, a -mystically-worded advertisement--of which a copy was inclosed--was to be -inserted in the "Times," and then a mode would be suggested for -safely--in the interest of the thieves of course--carrying the agreement -into effect. M. Bellebon was half-inclined to close with this proposal, -in order to save the credit of the house, which would be destroyed -unless its acceptances, now due in about fourteen days, could be met; -and without the stolen moneys and bills of exchange, this was, he -feared, impossible. The superintendent, to whom M. Bellebon showed the -letter, would not hear of compliance with such a demand, and threatened -a prosecution for composition of felony if M. Bellebon persisted in -doing so. The advertisement was, however, inserted, and an immediate -reply directed that Le Breton, the agent, should present himself at the -Old Manor-House, Green Lanes, Newington, unattended, at four o'clock on -the following afternoon, bringing with him of course the stipulated sum -_in gold_. It was added, that to prevent any possible treason -(_trahison_, the letter was written in French), Le Breton would find a -note for him at the tavern, informing him of the spot--a solitary one, -and far away from any place where an ambush could be concealed--where -the business would be concluded, and to which he must proceed -unaccompanied, and on foot! This proposal was certainly quite as -ingenious as it was cool, and the chance of out-witting such cunning -rascals seemed exceedingly doubtful. A very tolerable scheme was, -however, hit upon, and M. le Breton proceeded at the appointed hour to -the Old Manor-House. No letter or message had been left for him, and -nobody obnoxious to the slightest suspicion could be seen near or about -the tavern. On the following day another missive arrived, which stated -that the writer was quite aware of the trick which the police had -intended playing him, and he assured M. Bellebon that such a line of -conduct was as unwise as it would be fruitless, inasmuch as if "good -faith" was not observed, the securities and notes would be inexorably -destroyed or otherwise disposed of, and the house of Bellebon and -Company be consequently exposed to the shame and ruin of bankruptcy. - -Just at this crisis of the affair I arrived in town from an unsuccessful -hunt after some fugitives who had slipped through my fingers at -Plymouth. The superintendent laughed heartily, not so much at the trick -by which I had been duped, as at the angry mortification I did not -affect to conceal. He presently added, "I have been wishing for your -return, in order to intrust you with a tangled affair, in which success -will amply compensate for such a disappointment. You know French too, -which is fortunate; for the gentleman who has been plundered understands -little or no English." He then related the foregoing particulars, with -other apparently slight circumstances; and after a long conversation -with him, I retired to think the matter over, and decide upon the -likeliest mode of action. After much cogitation, I determined to see M. -Bellebon _alone_; and for this purpose I dispatched the waiter of a -tavern adjacent to his lodgings, with a note expressive of my wish to -see him instantly on pressing business. He was at home, and immediately -acceded to my request. I easily introduced myself; and after about a -quarter of an hour's conference, said carelessly--for I saw he was too -heedless of speech, too quick and frank, to be intrusted with the dim -suspicions which certain trifling indices had suggested to me--"Is -Monsieur le Breton at the office where the robbery was committed?" - -"No: he is gone to Greenwich on business, and will not return till late -in the evening. But if you wish to re-examine the place, I can of -course enable you to do so." - -"It will, I think, be advisable; and you will, if you please," I added, -as we emerged into the street, "permit me to take you by the arm, in -order that the _official_ character of my visit may not be suspected by -any one there." - -He laughingly complied, and we arrived at the house arm-in-arm. We were -admitted by an elderly woman; and there was a young man--a mustached -clerk--seated at a desk in an inner room writing. He eyed me for a -moment, somewhat askance, I thought, but I gave him no opportunity for a -distinct view of my features; and I presently handed M. Bellebon a card, -on which I had contrived to write, unobserved, "send away the clerk." -This was more naturally done than I anticipated; and in answer to M. -Bellebon's glance of inquiry, I merely said, "that as I did not wish to -be known there as a police-officer, it was essential that the minute -search I was about to make should be without witnesses." He agreed; and -the woman was also sent away upon a distant errand. Every conceivable -place did I ransack; every scrap of paper that had writing on it I -eagerly perused. At length the search was over, apparently without -result. - -"You are quite sure, Monsieur Bellebon, as you informed the -superintendent, that Monsieur le Breton has no female relations or -acquaintances in this country?" - -"Positive," he replied. "I have made the most explicit inquiries on the -subject both of the clerk Dubarle, and of the woman-servant." - -Just then the clerk returned, out of breath with haste, I noticed, and I -took my leave without even now affording the young gentleman so clear a -view of my face as he was evidently anxious to obtain. - -"No female acquaintance!" thought I, as I re-entered the private room of -the tavern I had left an hour before. "From whom came, then, these -scraps of perfumed note-paper I have found in his desk, I wonder?" I sat -down and endeavored to piece them out, but after considerable trouble, -satisfied myself that they were parts of different notes, and so small, -unfortunately, as to contain nothing which separately afforded any -information except that they were all written by one hand, and that a -female one. - -About two hours after this I was sauntering along in the direction of -Stoke-Newington, where I was desirous of making some inquiries as to -another matter, and had passed the Kingslaw Gate a few hundred yards, -when a small discolored printed handbill, lying in a haberdasher's shop -window, arrested my attention. It ran thus: "Two guineas reward.--Lost, -an Italian gray-hound. The tip of its tail has been chopped off, and it -answers to the name of Fidèle." Underneath, the reader was told in -writing to "inquire within." - -"Fidèle!" I mentally exclaimed. "Any relation to M. le Breton's fair -correspondent Fidèle, I wonder?" In a twinkling my pocket-book was out, -and I reperused by the gas-light on one of the perfumed scraps of paper -the following portion of a sentence, "_ma pauvre Fidèle est per_--" The -bill, I observed, was dated nearly three weeks previously. I forthwith -entered the shop, and pointing to the bill, said I knew a person who had -found such a dog as was there advertised for. The woman at the counter -said she was glad to hear it, as the lady, formerly a customer of -theirs, was much grieved at the animal's loss. - -"What is the lady's name?" I asked. - -"I can't rightly pronounce the name," was the reply. "It is French, I -believe; but here it is, with the address, in the day-book, written by -herself." - -I eagerly read--"Madame Levasseur, Oak Cottage; about one mile on the -road from Edmonton to Southgate." The handwriting greatly resembled that -on the scraps I had taken from M. le Breton's desk; and the writer was -French too! Here were indications of a trail which might lead to -unhoped-for success, and I determined to follow it up vigorously. After -one or two other questions, I left the shop, promising to send the dog -to the lady the next day. My business at Stoke-Newington was soon -accomplished. I then hastened westward to the establishment of a -well-known dog-fancier, and procured the loan, at a reasonable price, of -an ugly Italian hound: the requisite loss of the tip of its tail was -very speedily accomplished, and so quickly healed, that the newness of -the excision could not be suspected. I arrived at the lady's residence -about twelve o'clock on the following day, so thoroughly disguised as a -vagabond Cockney dog-stealer, that my own wife, when I entered the -breakfast parlor just previous to starting, screamed with alarm and -surprise. The mistress of Oak Cottage was at home, but indisposed, and -the servant said she would take the dog to her, though, if I would take -it out of the basket, she herself could tell me if it was Fidèle or not. -I replied that I would only show the dog to the lady, and would not -trust it out of my hands. This message was carried up-stairs, and after -waiting some time outside--for the woman, with natural precaution, -considering my appearance, for the safety of the portable articles lying -about, had closed the street-door in my face--I was re-admitted, desired -to wipe my shoes carefully, and walk up. Madame Levasseur, a -showy-looking woman, though not over-refined in speech or manners, was -seated on a sofa, in vehement expectation of embracing her dear Fidèle; -but my vagabond appearance so startled her, that she screamed loudly for -her husband, M. Levasseur. This gentleman, a fine, tall, whiskered, -mustached person, hastened into the apartment half-shaved, and with his -razor in his hand. - -"Qu'est ce qu'il y a donc?" he demanded. - -"Mais voyez cette horreur là," replied the lady, meaning me, not the -dog, which I was slowly emancipating from the basket-kennel. The -gentleman laughed; and reassured by the presence of her husband, Madame -Levasseur's anxieties concentrated themselves upon the expected Fidèle. - -"Mais, mon Dieu!" she exclaimed again as I displayed the aged beauty I -had brought for her inspection, "why, that is not Fidèle!" - -"Not, marm?" I answered, with quite innocent surprise. "Vy, ere is her -wery tail;" and I held up the mutilated extremity for her closer -inspection. The lady was not, however, to be convinced even by that -evidence; and as the gentleman soon became impatient of my persistence, -and hinted very intelligibly that he had a mind to hasten my passage -down stairs with the toe of his boot, I, having made the best possible -use of my eyes during the short interview, scrambled up the dog and -basket, and departed. - -"No female relative or acquaintance hasn't he?" was my exulting thought -as I gained the road. "And yet if that is not M. le Breton's picture -between those of the husband and wife, I am a booby, and a blind one." I -no longer in the least doubted that I had struck a brilliant trail; and -I could have shouted with exultation, so eager was I not only to -retrieve my, as I fancied, somewhat tarnished reputation for activity -and skill, but to extricate the plundered firm from their terrible -difficulties; the more especially as young M. Bellebon, with the -frankness of his age and nation, had hinted to me--and the -suddenly-tremulous light of his fine expressive eyes testified to the -acuteness of his apprehensions--that his marriage with a long-loved and -amiable girl depended upon his success in saving the credit of his -house. - -That same evening, about nine o'clock, M. Levasseur, expensively, but -withal snobbishly attired, left Oak Cottage, walked to Edmonton, hailed -a cab, and drove off rapidly toward town, followed by an English swell -as stylishly and snobbishly dressed, wigged, whiskered, and mustached as -himself: this English swell being no other than myself, as prettily -metamorphosed and made up for the part I intended playing as heart could -wish. - -M. Levasseur descended at the end of the Quadrant, Regent-street, and -took his way to Vine-street, leading out of that celebrated -thoroughfare. I followed; and observing him enter a public-house, -unhesitatingly did the same. It was a house of call and general -rendezvous for foreign servants out of place. Valets, couriers, cooks, -of many varieties of shade, nation, and respectability, were assembled -there, smoking, drinking, and playing at an insufferably noisy game, -unknown, I believe, to Englishmen, and which must, I think, have been -invented in sheer despair of cards, dice, or other implements of -gambling. The sole instruments of play were the gamesters' fingers, of -which the two persons playing suddenly and simultaneously uplifted as -many, or as few as they pleased, each player alternately calling a -number; and if he named precisely how many fingers were held up by -himself and opponent, he marked a point. The hubbub of cries--"cinq," -"neuf," "dix," &c.--was deafening. The players--almost every body in the -large room--were too much occupied to notice our entrance; and M. -Levasseur and myself seated ourselves, and called for something to -drink, without, I was glad to see, exciting the slightest observation. -M. Levasseur, I soon perceived, was an intimate acquaintance of many -there; and somewhat to my surprise, for he spoke French very well, I -found that he was a Swiss. His name was, I therefore concluded, assumed. -Nothing positive rewarded my watchfulness that evening; but I felt quite -sure Levasseur had come there with the expectation of meeting some one, -as he did not play, and went away about half-past eleven o'clock with an -obviously discontented air. The following night it was the same; but the -next, who should peer into the room about half-past ten, and look -cautiously round, but M. Alexandre le Breton! The instant the eyes of -the friends met, Levasseur rose and went out. I hesitated to follow, -lest such a movement might excite suspicion; and it was well I did not, -as they both presently returned, and seated themselves close by my side. -The anxious, haggard countenance of Le Breton--who had, I should have -before stated, been privately pointed out to me by one of the force -early on the morning I visited Oak Cottage--struck me forcibly, -especially in contrast with that of Levasseur, which wore only an -expression of malignant and ferocious triumph, slightly dashed by -temporary disappointment. Le Breton staid but a short time; and the only -whispered words I caught were--"He has, I fear, some suspicion." - -The anxiety and impatience of M. Bellebon while this was going on became -extreme, and he sent me note after note--the only mode of communication -I would permit--expressive of his consternation at the near approach of -the time when the engagements of his house would arrive at maturity, -without any thing having in the meantime been accomplished. I pitied him -greatly, and after some thought and hesitation, resolved upon a new and -bolder game. By affecting to drink a great deal, occasionally playing, -and in other ways exhibiting a reckless, devil-may-care demeanor, I had -striven to insinuate myself into the confidence and companionship of -Levasseur, but hitherto without much effect; and although once I could -see, startled by a casual hint I dropped to another person--one of -ours--just sufficiently loud for him to hear--that I knew a sure and -safe market for stopped Bank of England notes, the cautious scoundrel -quickly subsided into his usual guarded reserve. He evidently doubted -me, and it was imperatively necessary to remove those doubts. This was -at last effectually, and, as I am vain enough to think, cleverly done. -One evening a rakish-looking man, who ostentatiously and repeatedly -declared himself to be Mr. Trelawney, of Conduit-street, and who was -evidently three parts intoxicated, seated himself directly in front of -us, and with much braggart impudence boasted of his money, at the same -time displaying a pocket-book, which seemed pretty full of Bank of -England notes. There were only a few persons present in the room besides -us, and they were at the other end of the room. Levasseur I saw noticed -with considerable interest the look of greed and covetousness which I -fixed on that same pocket-book. At length the stranger rose to depart. I -also hurried up and slipped after him, and was quietly and slyly -followed by Levasseur. After proceeding about a dozen paces, I looked -furtively about, but _not_ behind; robbed Mr. Trelawney of his -pocket-book, which he had placed in one of the tails of his coat; -crossed over the street, and walked hurriedly away, still, I could hear, -followed by Levasseur. I entered another public-house, strode into an -empty back-room, and was just in the act of examining my prize, when in -stepped Levasseur. He looked triumphant as Lucifer, as he clapped me on -the shoulder, and said in a low exulting voice, "I saw that pretty -trick, Williams, and can, if I like, transport you!" - -My consternation was naturally extreme, and Levasseur laughed immensely -at the terror he excited. "_Soyez tranquille_," he said at last, at the -same time ringing the bell, "I shall not hurt you." He ordered some -wine, and after the waiter had fulfilled the order, and left the room, -said, "Those notes of Mr. Trelawney's will of course be stopped in the -morning, but I think I once heard you say you knew of a market for such -articles?" - -I hesitated, coyly unwilling to further commit myself. "Come, come," -resumed Levasseur, in a still low but menacing tone, "no nonsense. I -have you now; you are, in fact, entirely in my power: but be candid, and -you are safe. Who is your friend?" - -"He is not in town now," I stammered. - -"Stuff--humbug! I have myself some notes to change. There, now we -understand each other. What does he give, and how does he dispose of -them?" - -"He gives about a third generally, and gets rid of them abroad. They -reach the Bank through _bonâ-fide_ and innocent holders, and in that -case the Bank is of course bound to pay." - -"Is that the law also with respect to bills of exchange?" - -"Yes, to be sure it is." - -"And is _amount_ of any consequence to your friend?" - -"None, I believe, whatever." - -"Well, then, you must introduce me to him." - -"No, that I can't," I hurriedly answered. "He won't deal with -strangers." - -"You _must_, I tell you, or I will call an officer." Terrified by this -threat, I muttered that his name was Levi Samuel. - -"And where does Levi Samuel live?" - -"That," I replied, "I _can not_ tell; but I know how to communicate with -him." - -Finally, it was settled by Levasseur that I should dine at Oak Cottage -the next day but one, and that I should arrange with Samuel to meet us -there immediately afterward. The notes and bills he had to dispose of, I -was to inform Samuel, amounted to nearly twelve thousand pounds, and I -was promised £500 for effecting the bargain. - -"Five hundred pounds, remember, Williams," said Levasseur, as we parted; -"or, if you deceive me, transportation. You can prove nothing regarding -_me_, whereas, I could settle _you_ offhand." - -The superintendent and I had a long and rather anxious conference the -next day. We agreed that, situated as Oak Cottage was, in an open space -away from any other building, it would not be advisable that any officer -except myself and the pretended Samuel should approach the place. We -also agreed as to the probability of such clever rogues having so placed -the notes and bills that they could be consumed or otherwise destroyed -on the slightest alarm, and that the open arrest of Levasseur, and a -search of Oak Cottage, would in all likelihood prove fruitless. "There -will be only two of them," I said, in reply to a remark of the -superintendent as to the somewhat dangerous game I was risking with -powerful and desperate men, "even should Le Breton be there; and surely -Jackson and I, aided by the surprise and our pistols, will be too many -for them." Little more was said, the superintendent wished us luck, and -I sought out and instructed Jackson. - -I will confess that, on setting out the next day to keep my appointment, -I felt considerable anxiety. Levasseur _might_ have discovered my -vocation, and set this trap for my destruction. Yet that was hardly -possible. At all events, whatever the danger, it was necessary to face -it; and having cleaned and loaded my pistols with unusual care, and bade -my wife a more than usually earnest farewell, which, by the way, rather -startled her, I set off, determined, as we used to say in Yorkshire, "to -win the horse or lose the saddle." - -I arrived in good time at Oak Cottage, and found my host in the highest -possible spirits. Dinner was ready, he said, but it would be necessary -to wait a few minutes for the two friends he expected. - -"_Two_ friends!" I exclaimed, really startled. "You told me last evening -there was to be only one, a Monsieur le Breton." - -"True," rejoined Levasseur carelessly; "but I had forgotten that another -party as much interested as ourselves would like to be present, and -invite himself if I did not. But there will be enough for us all, never -fear," he added, with a coarse laugh, "especially as Madame Levasseur -does not dine with us." - -At this moment a loud knock was heard. "Here they are!" exclaimed -Levasseur, and hastened out to meet them. I peeped through the blind, -and to my great alarm saw that Le Breton was accompanied by the clerk -Dubarle! My first impulse was to seize my pistols and rush out of the -house; but calmer thoughts soon succeeded, and the improbability that a -plan had been laid to entrap me recurred forcibly. Still, should the -clerk recognize me? The situation was undoubtedly a critical one; but I -was in for it, and must therefore brave the matter out in the best way I -could. - -Presently a conversation, carried on in a loud, menacing tone in the -next room between Levasseur and the new-comers, arrested my attention, -and I softly approached the door to listen. Le Breton, I soon found was -but half a villain, and was extremely anxious that the property should -not be disposed of till at least another effort had been made at -negotiation. The others, now that a market for the notes and securities -had been obtained, were determined to avail themselves of it, and -immediately leave the country. The almost agonizing entreaties of Le -Breton that they would not utterly ruin the house he had betrayed, were -treated with scornful contempt, and he was at length silenced by their -brutal menaces. Le Breton, I further learned, was a cousin of Madame -Levasseur, whose husband had first pillaged him at play, and then -suggested the crime which had been committed as the sole means of -concealing the defalcations of which he, Levasseur, had been the -occasion and promoter. - -After a brief delay, all three entered the dining-room, and a slight but -significant start which the clerk Dubarle gave, as Levasseur, with mock -ceremony, introduced me, made my heart, as folk say, leap into my mouth. -His half-formed suspicions seemed, however, to be dissipated for the -moment by the humorous account Levasseur gave him of the robbery of Mr. -Trelawney, and we sat down to a very handsome dinner. - -A more uncomfortable one, albeit, I never assisted at. The furtive looks -of Dubarle, who had been only partially reassured, grew more and more -inquisitive and earnest. Fortunately Levasseur was in rollicking spirits -and humor, and did not heed the unquiet glances of the young man; and as -for Le Breton, he took little notice of any body. At last this terrible -dinner was over, and the wine was pushed briskly round. I drank much -more freely than usual, partly with a view to calm my nerves, and partly -to avoid remark. It was nearly the time for the Jew's appearance, when -Dubarle, after a scrutinizing and somewhat imperious look at my face, -said abruptly, "I think, Monsieur Williams, I have seen you somewhere -before?" - -"Very likely," I replied, with as much indifference as I could assume. -"Many persons have seen me before--some of them once or twice too -often." - -"True!" exclaimed Levasseur, with a shout; "Trelawney, for instance!" - -"I should like to see monsieur with his wig off!" said the clerk, with -increasing insolence. - -"Nonsense, Dubarle; you are a fool," exclaimed Levasseur; "and I will -not have my good friend Williams insulted." - -Dubarle did not persist, but it was plain enough that some dim -remembrance of my features continued to haunt and perplex him. - -At length, and the relief was unspeakable, a knock at the outer door -announced Jackson--Levi Samuel I mean. We all jumped up and ran to the -window. It was the Jew sure enough, and admirably he had dressed and now -looked the part. Levasseur went out, and in a minute or two returned, -introducing him. Jackson could not suppress a start as he caught sight -of the tall, mustached addition to the expected company; and, although -he turned it off very well, it drove the Jewish dialect in which he had -been practicing, completely out of his thoughts and speech, as he said, -"You have more company than my friend Williams led me to expect?" - -"A friend--one friend extra, Mr. Samuel," said Levasseur; "that is all. -Come, sit down, let me help you to a glass of wine. You are an English -Jew I perceive?" - -"Yes." - -A silence of a minute or two succeeded, and then Levasseur said, "You -are, of course, prepared for business?" - -"Yes--that is, if you are reasonable." - -"Reasonable! the most reasonable men in the world," rejoined Levasseur, -with a loud laugh. "But pray, where is the gold you mean to pay us -with?" - -"If we agree, I will fetch it in half an hour. I do not carry bags of -sovereigns about with me into _all_ companies," replied Jackson, with -much readiness. - -"Well, that's right enough: and how much discount do you charge?" - -"I will tell you when I see the securities." - -Levasseur arose without another word, and left the apartment. He was -gone about ten minutes, and on his return, deliberately counted out the -stolen Bank-of-England notes, and bills of exchange. Jackson got up from -his chair, peered close to them, and began noting down the amounts in -his pocket-book. I also rose, and pretended to be looking at a picture -by the fire-place. The moment was a nervous one, as the signal had been -agreed upon, and could not now be changed or deferred. The clerk Dubarle -also hastily rose, and eyed Jackson with flaming but indecisive looks. -The examination of the securities was at length terminated, -and Jackson began counting the Bank-of-England notes aloud, -"One--two--three--four--FIVE!" As the signal word passed his lips, he -threw himself upon Le Breton, who sat next to him; and at the same -moment I passed one of my feet between Dubarle's, and, with a dexterous -twist hurled him violently on the floor; another instant and my grasp -was on the throat of Levasseur, and my pistol at his ear. "Hurra!" we -both shouted, with eager excitement; and, before either of the villains -could recover from his surprise, or indeed perfectly comprehend what had -happened, Levasseur and Le Breton were handcuffed, and resistance was -out of the question. Young Dubarle was next easily secured. - -Levasseur, the instant he recovered the use of his faculties, which the -completeness and suddenness of the surprise and attack had paralyzed, -yelled like a madman with rage and anger, and but for us, would, I -verily believe, have dashed his brains out against the walls of the -room. The other two were calmer, and having at last thoroughly pinioned -and secured them, and carefully gathered up the recovered plunder, we -left Oak Cottage in triumph, letting ourselves out, for the -woman-servant had gone off, doubtless to acquaint her mistress with the -disastrous turn affairs had taken. No inquiry was made after either of -them. - -An hour afterward the prisoners were securely locked up, and I hurried -to acquaint M. Bellebon with the fortunate issue of our enterprise. His -exultation, it will be readily believed, was unbounded; and I left him -busy with letters to the firm, and doubtless one to "cette chère et -aimable Louise," announcing the joyful news. - -The prisoners, after a brief trial, were convicted of felonious -conspiracy, and were all sentenced to ten years' transportation. Le -Breton's sentence, the judge told him, would have been for life, but for -the contrition he had exhibited shortly before his apprehension. - -As Levasseur passed me on leaving the dock, he exclaimed in French, and -in a desperately savage tone, "I will repay you for this when I return, -and that infernal Trelawney too." I am too much accustomed to threats of -this kind to be in any way moved by them, and I therefore contented -myself by smiling, and a civil "Au revoir--allons!" - - - - -[From Dickens's Household Words.] - -ATLANTIC WAVES. - - -One brisk March morning, in the year 1848, the brave Steam-Ship Hibernia -rolled about in the most intoxicated fashion on the broad Atlantic, in -north latitude fifty-one, and west longitude thirty-eight, fifty--the -wind blowing a hard gale from the west-southwest. To most of the -passengers the grandeur of the waters was a mockery, the fine bearing of -the ship only a delusion and a snare. Every thing was made tight on -deck; if any passenger had left a toothpick on one of the seats, he -would assuredly have found it lashed to a near railing. Rope was coiled -about every imaginable item; and water dripped from every spar of the -gallant vessel. Now it seemed as though she were traveling along through -a brilliant gallery, flanked on either side by glittering walls of -water; now she climbed one of the crested walls, and an abyss dark and -terrible as the famous Maelstrom, which can't be found any where, yawned -to receive her. The snorts of the engine seemed to defy the angry -waters; and occasionally when a monster wave coiled about the ship, and -thundered against her, she staggered for a moment, only to renew the -battle with fresh energy. - -The cooks and stewards went placidly through their several daily -avocations on board this rolling, fighting, shaking craft. If they had -been Belgravian servants, or club-house waiters, they could not have -performed their duties with more profound unconcern. Their coolness -appeared nothing less than heroic to the poor tumbled heaps of clothes -with human beings inside, who were scattered about the cabins below. An -unhappy wight, who had never before been five miles from Boston, was -anxiously inquiring of the chief steward the precise time in the course -of that evening that the vessel might be expected to founder; while -another steward, with provoking pertinacity, was asking how many would -dine in the saloon at six, with the same business-like unconcern, as if -the ship were gliding along on glass. So tremendous was the tossing, so -extreme the apparent uncertainty of any event except a watery terminus -to all expectation, that this sort of coolness appeared almost wicked. - -Then there was a monster in British form actually on deck--not braving, -it was said, but tempting the storm to sweep him into eternity. He -astonished even the ship's officers. The cook did not hesitate to -venture a strong opinion against the sanity of a man who might, if he -chose, be snugly ensconced in the cabin out of harm's way, but who -_would_ remain upon deck, in momentary danger of being blown overboard. -The cook's theory was not ill supported by the subject of it; for he was -continually placing himself in all manner of odd places and grotesque -postures. Sometimes he scrambled up on the cuddy-roof; then he rolled -down again on the saloon deck; now he got himself blown up on the -paddle-box; _that_ was not high enough for him, for when the vessel sunk -into a trough of the sea, he stood on tip-toe, trying to look over the -nearest wave. A consultation was held in the cuddy, and a resolution was -unanimously passed that the amateur of wind and water (which burst over -him every minute) was either an escaped lunatic or--a College Professor. - -It was resolved _nem. con._ that he was the latter; and from that moment -nobody was surprised at any thing he might choose to do, even while the -Hibernia was laboring in what the mate was pleased to call the most -"lively" manner. The Professor, however, to the disgust of the sufferers -below, who thought it was enough to _feel_ the height of the waves, -without going to the trouble of measuring them, pursued his observations -in the face of the contempt of the official conclave above mentioned. He -took up his position on the cuddy roof, which was exactly twenty-three -feet three inches above the ship's line of flotation, and there watched -the mighty mountains that sported with the brave vessel. He was anxious -to ascertain the height of these majestic waves, but he found that the -crests rose so far above the horizon from the point where he was -standing, that it was utterly impossible, without gaining a greater -height for observation, that he could arrive at any just estimate on the -subject. His observations from the cuddy-roof proved, however, beyond a -doubt, that the majority of these rolling masses of water attained a -height of considerably more than twenty-four feet, measuring from the -trough of the sea to the crests of the waves. But the Professor was not -satisfied with this negative proof; and in the pursuit of his -interesting inquiry, did not feel inclined to be baffled. It is -impossible to know what the secret thoughts of the men at the wheel -were, when the valiant observer announced his intention of making the -best of his way from the cuddy-roof to the larboard paddle-box. Now he -was to be seen tumbling about with the motion of the ship; at one moment -clinging to a chain-box; at the next, throwing himself into the arms of -the second mate. Now he is buried in spray, and a few minutes afterward -his spare form is seen clinging to the rails which connect the -paddle-boxes. - -Despite the storm without, a calm mathematical process is going on -within the mind of that ardent observer. The Professor knew he was -standing at a height of twenty-four feet nine inches above the flotation -mark of the ship: and allowing five feet six inches as the height of his -eye, he found the elevation he had obtained to be altogether thirty feet -three inches. He now waited till the vessel subsided fairly for a few -minutes into the trough of the sea in an even and upright position, -while the nearest approaching wave had its maximum altitude. Here he -found also, that at least one-half part of the wave intercepted by a -considerable elevation his view of the horizon. He declared that he -frequently observed long ranges extending one hundred yards on one or -both sides of the ship--the sea then coming right aft--which rose so -high above the visible horizon, as to form an angle estimated at two to -three degrees when the distance of the wave's crest, was about a hundred -yards off. This distance would add about thirteen feet to the level of -the eye. This immense elevation occurred about every sixth wave. Now and -then, when the course of a gigantic wave was impertinently interfered -with by another liquid giant, and they thundered together, their -breaking crests would shoot upward at least ten or fifteen feet -higher--about half the height of the monument--and then pour down a -mighty flood upon the poor Professor in revenge for his attempt to -measure their majesties. No quantity of salt water, however, could wash -him from his post, till he had satisfactorily proved, by accurate -observation, that the average wave which passed the vessel was fully -equal to the height of his eye--or thirty feet three inches--and that -the mean highest waves, not including the fighting or broken waves, were -about forty-three feet above the level of the hollow occupied at the -moment by the ship. - -Satisfied at length of the truth of his observations, the Professor, -half-pickled by the salt water, and looking, it must be confessed, very -cold and miserable, descended to the cabin. Throughout dinner-time a -conversation was kept up between the Professor and the captain--the -latter appearing to be about the only individual on board who took any -interest whatever in these scientific proceedings. The ladies, one and -all, vowed that the Professor was a monster, only doing "all this stuff" -in mockery of their sufferings. Toward night the wind increased to a -hurricane; the ship trembled like a frightened child before the terrible -combat of the elements. Night, with her pall, closed in the scene: it -was a wild and solemn time. Toward morning the wind abated. For thirty -hours a violent northwest gale had swept over the heaving bosom of the -broad Atlantic. - -This reflection hastened the dressing and breakfasting operations of the -Professor, who tumbled up on deck at about ten o'clock in the morning. -The storm had been subdued for several hours, and there was a visible -decrease in the height of the waves. He took up his old position on the -cuddy-roof, and soon observed, that, even then, when the sea was -comparatively quiet, ten waves overtook the vessel in succession, which -all rose above the apparent horizon; consequently they must have been -more than twenty-three feet--probably about twenty-six feet--from ridge -to hollow. From the larboard paddle-box, to which the Professor once -more scrambled, he observed that occasionally four or five waves in -succession rose above the visible horizon--hence they must have been -more than thirty feet waves. He also observed that the waves no longer -ran in long ridges, but presented more the form of cones of moderate -elongation. - -Having so far satisfied himself as to the height of Atlantic waves in a -gale of wind (the Professor's estimate must not be taken as the -measurement of the highest known waves, but simply as that of a rough -Atlantic sea), he directed his attention to minuter and more difficult -observations. He determined to measure the period of time occupied by -the regular waves in overtaking the ship, their width from crest to -crest, and the rate of their traveling. The first point to be known was -the speed of the ship; this he ascertained to be nine knots. His next -object was to note her course in reference to the direction of the -waves. He found that the true course of the vessel was east, and that -the waves came from the west-northwest, so that they passed under the -vessel at a considerable angle. The length of the ship was stated to be -two hundred and twenty feet. Provided with this information the -Professor renewed his observations. He proceeded to count the seconds -the crest of a wave took to travel from stern to stem of the vessel; -these he ascertained to be six. He then counted the time which -intervened between the moment when one crest touched the stern of the -vessel, and the next touched it, and he found the average interval to -be sixteen seconds and a fraction. These results gave him at once the -width between crest and crest. As the crest traveled two hundred and -twenty feet (or the length of the vessel) in six seconds, and sixteen -seconds elapsed before the next crest touched the stern, it was clear -that the wave was nearly three times the length of the vessel; to write -accurately, there was a distance of six hundred and five feet from crest -to crest. - -The Professor did not forget that the oblique course of the ship -elongated her line over the waves; this elongation he estimated at -forty-five feet, reducing the probable average distance between crest -and crest to five hundred and fifty-nine feet. - -Being quite satisfied with the result of this experiment, the hardy -Professor, still balancing himself on his giddy height, to the wonder -and amusement of the sailors, found that the calculations he had already -made did not give him the actual velocity of the waves. A wave-crest -certainly passed from stern to stem in six seconds, but then the ship -was traveling in the same direction, at the rate of nine geographical -miles per hour, or 15.2 feet per second; this rate the Professor added -to the former measure, which gave 790.5 feet for the actual distance -traversed by the wave in 16.5 seconds, being at the rate of 32.67 -English miles per hour. This computation was afterward compared with -calculations made from totally different data by Mr. Scott Russell, and -found to be quite correct. - -With these facts the Professor scrambled from the larboard paddle-box of -the Hibernia. He had also made some observations on the forms of waves. -When the wind blows steadily from one point, they are generally regular; -but when it is high and gusty, and shifts from point to point, the sea -is broken up, and the waves take a more conical shape, and assume -fantastical crests. While the sea ran high, the Professor observed now -and then a ridge of waves extending from about a quarter to a third of a -mile in length, forming, as it were, a rampart of water. This ridge was -sometimes straight, and sometimes bent as of a crescent form, with the -central mass of water higher than the rest, and not unfrequently with -two or three semi-elliptical mounds in diminishing series on either side -of the highest peak. - -When the wind had subsided, a few of the bolder passengers crawled upon -deck in the oddest imaginable costumes. They had not much to encounter, -for about a third part of the greater undulations averaged only -twenty-four feet, from crest to hollow, in height. These higher waves -could be seen and selected from the pigmy waves about them, at the -distance of a quarter of a mile from the ship. - -The Professor had been very unpopular on board while the stormy weather -lasted, and the ladies had vowed that he was a sarcastic creature, who -_would_ have his little joke on the gravest calamities of life, but as -the waves decreased in bulk, and the wind lulled, and the sun shone, -and the men took off their oil-skin coats, and the cabin-windows were -opened, the frowns of the fair voyagers wore off. Perfect good-will was -general before the ship sighted Liverpool; and even the cook, as he -prepared the last dinner for the passengers, was heard to declare (in -confidence to one of the stokers) that, after all, there might be -something worth knowing in the Professor's observations. - -When the Professor landed at Liverpool, he would, on no account, suffer -the carpet-bag, containing his calculations, to be taken out of his -sight. Several inquisitive persons, however, made the best use of their -own eyes, to ascertain the name of the extraordinary observer, and found -it to be legibly inscribed with the well-known name of Scoresby. - -That his investigations may be the more readily impressed on the -reader's mind, we conclude with a summary of them. It would seem from -Dr. Scoresby's intrepid investigations, that the highest waves of the -Atlantic average in - - Altitude 43 feet - Mean Distance between each Wave 559 " - Width from Crest to Crest 600 " - Interval of Time between each wave 16 seconds - Velocity of each Wave per hour 32-1/2 miles. - - - - -HOW TO KILL CLEVER CHILDREN.[24] - - -At any time in life, excessive and continued mental exertion is hurtful; -but in infancy and early youth, when the structure of the brain is still -immature and delicate, permanent injury is more easily produced by -injudicious treatment than at any subsequent period. In this respect, -the analogy is complete between the brain and the other parts of the -body, as is exemplified in the injurious effects of premature exercise -of the bones and muscles. Scrofulous and rickety children are the most -usual sufferers in this way. They are generally remarkable for large -heads, great precocity of understanding, and small, delicate bodies. But -in such instances, the great size of the brain, and the acuteness of the -mind, are the results of morbid growth, and even with the best -management, the child passes the first years of its life constantly on -the brink of active disease. Instead, however, of trying to repress its -mental activity, as they should, the fond parents, misled by the promise -of genius, too often excite it still further by unceasing cultivation -and the never-failing stimulus of praise; and finding its progress, for -a time, equal to their warmest wishes, they look forward with ecstasy to -the day when its talents will break forth and shed a lustre on their -name. But in exact proportion as the picture becomes brighter to their -fancy, the probability of its becoming realized becomes less; for the -brain, worn out by premature exertion, either becomes diseased or loses -its tone, leaving the mental powers feeble and depressed for the -remainder of life. The expected prodigy is thus, in the end, easily -outstripped in the social race by many whose dull outset promised him an -easy victory. - -To him who takes for his guide the necessities of the constitution, it -will be obvious that the modes of treatment commonly resorted to should -in such cases be reversed; and that, instead of straining to the utmost -the already irritable powers of the precocious child, leaving his dull -competitors to ripen at leisure, a systematic attempt ought to be made, -from early infancy, to rouse to action the languid faculties of the -latter, while no pains should be spared to moderate and give tone to the -activity of the former. But instead of this, the prematurely intelligent -child is generally sent to school, and tasked with lessons at an -unusually early age, while the healthy but more backward boy, who -requires to be stimulated, is kept at home in idleness merely on account -of his backwardness. A double error is here committed, and the -consequences to the active-minded boy are not unfrequently the permanent -loss both of health and of his envied superiority of intellect. - -In speaking of children of this description, Dr. Brigham, in an -excellent little work on the influence of mental excitement on health, -remarks as follows: "Dangerous forms of scrofulous disease among -children have repeatedly fallen under my observation, for which I could -not account in any other way than by supposing that the brain had been -excited at the expense of the other parts of the system, and at a time -in life when nature is endeavoring to perfect all the organs of the -body; and after the disease commenced, I have seen, with grief, the -influence of the same cause in retarding or preventing recovery. I have -seen several affecting and melancholy instances of children, five or six -years of age, lingering a while with diseases from which those less -gifted readily recover, and at last dying, notwithstanding the utmost -efforts to restore them. During their sickness they constantly -manifested a passion for books and mental excitement, and were admired -for the maturity of their minds. The chance for the recovery of such -precocious children is, in my opinion, small when attacked by disease; -and several medical men have informed me that their own observations had -led them to form the same opinion, and have remarked that, in two cases -of sickness, if one of the patients was a child of superior and -highly-cultivated mental powers, and the other one equally sick, but -whose mind had not been excited by study, they should feel less -confident of the recovery of the former than of the latter. This mental -precocity results from an unnatural development of one organ of the body -at the expense of the constitution." - -There can be little doubt but that ignorance on the part of parents and -teachers, is the principal cause that leads to the too early and -excessive cultivation of the minds of children, and especially of such -as are precocious and delicate. Hence the necessity of imparting -instruction on this subject to both parents and teachers, and to all -persons who are in any way charged with the care and education of the -young. This necessity becomes the more imperative from the fact that the -cupidity of authors and publishers has led to the preparation of -"children's books," many of which are announced as purposely prepared -"for children from _two_ to _three_ years old!" I might instance -advertisements of "Infant Manuals" of botany, geometry, and astronomy! - -In not a few isolated families, but in many neighborhoods, villages, and -cities, in various parts of the country, children _under three years of -age_ are not only required to commit to memory many verses, texts of -Scripture, and stories, but are frequently sent to school for six hours -a day. Few children are kept back later than the age of _four_, unless -they reside a great distance from school, and some not even then. At -home, too, they are induced by all sorts of excitements to learn -additional tasks, or peruse juvenile books and magazines, till the -nervous system becomes enfeebled, and the health broken. "I have -myself," says Dr. Brigham, "seen many children who are supposed to -possess almost miraculous mental powers, experiencing these effects and -sinking under them. Some of them died early, when but six or eight years -of age, but manifested to the last a maturity of understanding, which -only increased the agony of separation. Their minds, like some of the -fairest flowers were 'no sooner blown than blasted;' others have grown -up to manhood, but with feeble bodies and disordered nervous system, -which subjected them to hypochondriasis, dyspepsy, and all the Protean -forms of nervous disease; others of the class of early prodigies exhibit -in manhood but small mental powers, and are the mere passive instruments -of those who in early life were accounted far their inferiors." - -This hot-bed system of education is not confined to the United States, -but is practiced less or more in all civilized countries. Dr. Combe, of -Scotland, gives an account of one of these early prodigies, whose fate -he witnessed. The circumstances were exactly such as those above -described. The prematurely developed intellect was admired, and -constantly stimulated by injudicious praise, and by daily exhibition to -every visitor who chanced to call. Entertaining books were thrown in its -way, reading by the fireside encouraged, play and exercise neglected, -the diet allowed to be full and heating, and the appetite pampered by -every delicacy. The results were the speedy deterioration of a weak -constitution, a high degree of nervous sensibility, deranged digestion, -disordered bowels, defective nutrition, and, lastly, _death_, at the -very time when the interest excited by the mental precocity was at its -height. - -Such, however, is the ignorance of the majority of parents and teachers -on all physiological subjects, that when one of these infant prodigies -dies from erroneous treatment, it is not unusual to publish a memoir of -his life, that other parents and teachers may see by what means such -transcendent qualities were called forth. Dr. Brigham refers to a memoir -of this kind, in which the history of a child, aged four years and -eleven months, is narrated as approved by "several judicious persons, -ministers and others, all of whom united in the request that it might be -published, and all agreed in the opinion that a knowledge of the manner -in which the child was treated, together with the results, would be -profitable to both parents and children, and a benefit to the cause of -education." This infant philosopher was "taught hymns before he could -speak plainly;" "reasoned with," and constantly instructed until his -last illness, which, "_without any assignable cause_," put on a violent -and unexpected form, and carried him off! - -As a _warning to others_ not to force education too soon or too fast, -this case may be truly profitable to both parents and children, and a -benefit to the cause of education; but _as an example to be followed_, -it assuredly can not be too strongly or too loudly condemned. - - - FOOTNOTE: - - [24] From MAYHEW's Treatise on "Popular Education," soon to be - issued from the press of Messrs. Harper and Brothers. - - - - -[From the Dublin University Magazine.] - -MAURICE TIERNAY, THE SOLDIER OF FORTUNE. - -(_Continued from Page 639._) - - -CHAPTER XVI. - -"AN OLD GENERAL OF THE IRISH BRIGADE." - -In obedience to an order which arrived at Saumur one morning in the July -of 1798, I was summoned before the commandant of the school, when the -following brief colloquy ensued: - -"Maurice Tiernay," said he, reading from the record of the school, "why -are you called l'Irlandais?" - -"I am Irish by descent, sir." - -"Ha! by descent. Your father was then an Emigré?" - -"No, sir--my great grandfather." - -"_Parbleu!_ that is going very far back. Are you aware of the causes -which induced him to leave his native country?" - -"They were connected with political troubles, I've heard, sir. He took -part against the English, my father told me, and was obliged to make his -escape to save his life." - -"You then hate the English, Maurice?" - -"My grandfather certainly did not love them, sir." - -"Nor can you, boy, ever forgive their having exiled your family from -country and home: every man of honor retains the memory of such -injuries." - -"I can scarcely deem that an injury, sir, which has made me a French -citizen," said I, proudly. - -"True, boy--you say what is perfectly true and just; any sacrifice of -fortune or patrimony is cheap at such a price; still you have suffered a -wrong--a deep and irreparable wrong--and as a Frenchman you are ready to -avenge it." - -Although I had no very precise notion, either as to the extent of the -hardships done me, nor in what way I was to demand the reparation, I -gave the assent he seemed to expect. - -"You are well acquainted with the language, I believe?" continued he. - -"I can read and speak English tolerably well, sir." - -"But I speak of Irish, boy--of the language which is spoken by your -fellow-countrymen," said he, rebukingly. - -"I have always heard, sir, that this has fallen into disuse, and is -little known, save among the peasantry in a few secluded districts." - -He seemed impatient as I said this, and referred once more to the paper -before him, from whose minutes he appeared to have been speaking. - -"You must be in error, boy. I find here that the nation is devotedly -attached to its traditions and its literature, and feels no injury -deeper than the insulting substitution of a foreign tongue for their own -noble language." - -"Of myself I know nothing, sir; the little I have learned was acquired -when a mere child." - -"Ah, then you probably forget, or may never have heard the fact; but it -is as I tell you. This, which I hold here, is the report of a -highly-distinguished and most influential personage, who lays great -stress upon the circumstance. I am sorry, Tiernay, very sorry, that you -are unacquainted with the language." - -He continued for some minutes to brood over this disappointment, and, at -last, returned to the paper before him. - -"The geography of the country--what knowledge have you on that subject?" - -"No more, sir, than I may possess of other countries, and merely learned -from maps." - -"Bad again," muttered he to himself. "Madyett calls these 'essentials;' -but we shall see." Then addressing me, he said, "Tiernay, the object of -my present interrogatory is to inform you that the Directory is about to -send an expedition to Ireland to assist in the liberation of that -enslaved people. It has been suggested that young officers and soldiers -of Irish descent might render peculiar service to the cause, and I have -selected you for an opportunity which will convert those worsted -epaulets into bullion." - -This, at least, was intelligible news, and now I began to listen with -more attention. - -"There is a report," said he, laying down before me a very capacious -manuscript, "which you will carefully peruse. Here are the latest -pamphlets setting forth the state of public opinion in Ireland; and here -are various maps of the coast, the harbors, and the strongholds of that -country, with all of which you may employ yourself advantageously; and -if, on considering the subject, you feel disposed to volunteer--for as -a volunteer only could your services be accepted--I will willingly -support your request by all the influence in my power." - -"I am ready to do so at once, sir," said I, eagerly; "I have no need to -know any more than you have told me." - -"Well said, boy; I like your ardor. Write your petition, and it shall be -forwarded to-day. I will also try and obtain for you the same regimental -rank you hold in the school"--I was a sergeant--"it will depend upon -yourself afterward to secure a further advancement. You are now free -from duty; lose no time, therefore, in storing your mind with every -possible information, and be ready to set out at a moment's notice." - -"Is the expedition so nearly ready, sir?" asked I, eagerly. - -He nodded, and with a significant admonition as to secrecy, dismissed -me, bursting with anxiety to examine the stores of knowledge before me, -and prepare myself with all the details of a plan in which already I -took the liveliest interest. Before the week expired, I received an -answer from the minister, accepting the offer of my services. The reply -found me deep in those studies, which I scarcely could bear to quit even -at meal-times. Never did I experience such an all-devouring passion for -a theme as on that occasion. "Ireland" never left my thoughts; her -wrongs and sufferings were everlastingly before me; all the cruelties of -centuries--all the hard tyranny of the penal laws--the dire injustice of -caste oppression--filled me with indignation and anger; while, on the -other hand, I conceived the highest admiration of a people who, -undeterred by the might and power of England, resolved to strike a great -blow for liberty. - -The enthusiasm of the people--the ardent darings of a valor whose -impetuosity was its greatest difficulty--their high romantic -temperament--their devotion--their gratitude--the child-like -trustfulness of their natures, were all traits, scattered through the -various narratives, which invariably attracted me, and drew me more -strongly to their cause--even from affection than reason. - -Madyett's memoir was filled with these, and he, I concluded, must know -them well, being, as it was asserted, one of the ancient nobility of the -land, and who now desired nothing better than to throw rank, privilege, -and title into the scale, and do battle for the liberty and equality of -his countrymen. How I longed to see this great man, whom my fancy -arrayed in all the attributes he so lavishly bestowed upon his -countrymen, for they were not only, in his description, the boldest and -the bravest, but the handsomest people of Europe. - -As to the success of the enterprise, whatever doubts I had at first -conceived, from an estimate of the immense resources of England, were -speedily solved, as I read of the enormous preparations the Irish had -made for the struggle. The Roman Catholics, Madyett said, were three -millions, the Dissenters another million, all eager for freedom and -French alliance, wanting nothing but the appearance of a small armed -force to give them the necessary organization and discipline. They were -somewhat deficient, he acknowledged, in fire-arms--cannon they had none -whatever; but the character of the country, which consisted of -mountains, valleys, ravines, and gorges, reduced war to the mere -chivalrous features of personal encounter. What interminable -descriptions did I wade through of clubs and associations, the very -names of which were a puzzle to me--the great union of all appearing to -be a society called "Defenders," whose oath bound them to "fidelity to -the united nations of France and Ireland." - -So much for the one side. For the other, it was asserted that the -English forces then in garrison in Ireland, were below contempt: the -militia, being principally Irish, might be relied on for taking the -popular side; and as to the Regulars, they were either "old men, or -boys," incapable of active service; and several of the regiments, being -Scotch, greatly disaffected to the government. Then, again, as to the -navy, the sailors in the English fleet were more than two-thirds -Irishmen, all Catholics, and all disaffected. - -That the enterprise contained every element of success, then, who could -doubt? The nation, in the proportion of ten to one, were for the -movement. On their side lay not alone the wrongs to avenge, but the -courage, the energy, and the daring. Their oppressors were as weak as -tyrannical, their cause was a bad one, and their support of it a hollow -semblance of superiority. - -If I read these statements with ardor and avidity, one lurking sense of -doubt alone obtruded itself on my reasonings. Why, with all these -guarantees of victory, with every thing that can hallow a cause, and -give it stability and strength--why did the Irish ask for aid? If they -were, as they alleged, an immense majority--if theirs was all the -heroism and the daring--if the struggle was to be maintained against a -miserably inferior force, weakened by age, incapacity, and -disaffection--what need had they of Frenchmen on their side? The answer -to all such doubts, however, was "the Irish were deficient in -organization." - -Not only was the explanation a very sufficient one, but it served in a -high degree to flatter our vanity. We were, then, to be organizers of -Ireland; from us were they to take the lessons of civilization, which -should prepare them for freedom--ours was the task to discipline their -valor, and train their untaught intelligence. Once landed in the -country, it was to our standard they were to rally; from us were to go -forth the orders of every movement and measure; to us this new land was -to be an _Eldorado_. Madyett significantly hinted every where at the -unbounded gratitude of Irishmen; and more than hinted at the future fate -of certain confiscated estates. One phrase, ostentatiously set forth in -capitals, asserted that the best general of the French Republic could -not be any where employed with so much reputation and profit. There was, -then, every thing to stimulate the soldier in such an enterprise--honor, -fame, glory, and rich rewards were all among the prizes. - -It was when deep in the midst of these studies poring over maps and -reports, taxing my memory with hard names, and getting off by heart -dates, distances, and numbers, that the order came for me to repair at -once to Paris, where the volunteers of the expedition were to assemble. -My rank of sergeant had been confirmed, and in this capacity, as "sous -officier," I was ordered to report myself to General Kilmaine, the -Adjutant-General of the expedition, then living in the "Rue -Chantereine." I was also given the address of a certain Lestaing--Rue -Tarbout--a tailor, from whom, on producing a certificate, I was to -obtain my new uniform. - -Full as I was of the whole theme, thinking of the expedition by day, and -dreaming of it by night, I was still little prepared for the enthusiasm -it was at that very moment exciting in every society of the capital. For -some time previous a great number of Irish emigrants had made Paris -their residence; some were men of good position and ample fortune; some -were individuals of considerable ability and intelligence. All were -enthusiastic, and ardent in temperament--devotedly attached to their -country--hearty haters of England, and proportionately attached to all -that was French. These sentiments, coupled with a certain ease of -manner, and a faculty of adaptation, so peculiarly Irish, made them -general favorites in society; and long before the Irish question had -found any favor with the public, its national supporters had won over -the hearts and good wishes of all Paris to the cause. - -Well pleased, then, as I was, with my handsome uniform of green and -gold, my small chapeau, with its plume of cock's feathers, and the -embroidered shamrock on my collar, I was not a little struck by the -excitement my first appearance in the street created. Accustomed to see -a hundred strange military costumes--the greater number, I own, more -singular than tasteful--the Parisians, I concluded, would scarcely -notice mine in the crowd. Not so, however; the print-shops had already -given the impulse to the admiration, and the "Irish Volunteer of the -Guard" was to be seen in every window, in all the "glory of his -bravery." The heroic character of the expedition, too, was typified by a -great variety of scenes, in which the artist's imagination had all the -credit. In one picture the "jeune Irlandais" was planting a national -flag of very capacious dimensions on the summit of his native mountains; -here he was storming "La chateau de Dublin," a most formidable fortress -perched on a rock above the sea; here he was crowning the heights of "La -citadelle de Cork," a very Gibraltar in strength, or he was haranguing -the native chieftains, a highly picturesque group--a cross between a -knight crusader and a south-sea islander. - -My appearance, therefore, in the streets was the signal for general -notice and admiration, and more than one compliment was uttered, -purposely loud enough to reach me, on the elegance and style of my -equipment. In the pleasant flurry of spirits excited by this flattery, I -arrived at the general's quarters in the Rue Chantereine. It was -considerably before the time of his usual receptions, but the glitter of -my epaulets, and the air of assurance I had assumed, so far imposed upon -the old servant who acted as valet, that he at once introduced me into a -small saloon, and after a brief pause presented me to the general, who -was reclining on a sofa at his breakfast. Although far advanced in -years, and evidently broken by bad health, General Kilmaine still -preserved traces of great personal advantages, while his manner -exhibited all that polished ease and courtesy which was said to be -peculiar to the Irish gentleman of the French court. Addressing me in -English, he invited me to join his meal; and on my declining, as having -already breakfasted, he said, "I perceive, from your name, we are -countrymen; and as your uniform tells me the service in which you are -engaged, we may speak with entire confidence. Tell me then, frankly, all -that you know of the actual condition of Ireland." - -Conceiving that this question applied to the result of my late studies, -and was meant to elicit the amount of my information, I at once began a -recital of what I had learned from the books and reports I had been -reading. My statistics were perfect--they had been gotten off by heart; -my sympathies were, for the same reason, most eloquent; my indignation -was boundless on the wrongs I deplored, and in fact, in the fifteen -minutes during which he permitted me to declaim without interruption, I -had gone through the whole "cause of Ireland," from Henry II. to George -III. - -"You have been reading Mr. Madyett, I perceive," said he, with a smile; -"but I would rather hear something of your own actual experience. Tell -me, therefore, in what condition are the people at this moment, as -regards poverty?" - -"I have never been in Ireland, general," said I, not without some shame -at the avowal coming so soon after my eloquent exhortation. - -"Ah, I perceive," said he, blandly, "of Irish origin, and a relative -probably of that very distinguished soldier, Count Maurice de Tiernay, -who served in the Garde du Corps." - -"His only son, general," said I, blushing with eagerness and pleasure at -the praise of my father. - -"Indeed!" said he, smiling courteously, and seeming to meditate on my -words. "There was not a better nor a braver sabre in the corps than your -father--a very few more of such men might have saved the monarchy--as it -was, they dignified its fall. And to whose guidance and care did you -owe your early training, for I see you have not been neglected?" - -A few words told him the principal events of my early years, to which he -listened with deep attention. At length he said, "And now you are about -to devote your acquirements and energy to this new expedition?" - -"All, general! Every thing that I have is too little for such a cause." - -"You say truly, boy," said he, warmly; "would that so good a cause had -better leaders. I mean," added he, hurriedly, "wiser ones. Men more -conversant with the actual state of events, more fit to cope with the -great difficulties before them, more ready to take advantage of -circumstances, whose outward meaning will often prove deceptive. In -fact, Irishmen of character and capacity, tried soldiers, and good -patriots. Well, well, let us hope the best. In whose division are you?" - -"I have not yet heard, sir. I have presented myself here to-day to -receive your orders." - -"There again is another instance of their incapacity," cried he, -passionately. "Why, boy, I have no command, nor any function. I did -accept office under General Hoche, but he is not to lead the present -expedition." - -"And who is, sir?" - -"I can not tell you. A week ago they talked of Grouchy, then of Hardy; -yesterday it was Humbert; to-day it may be Bonaparte, and to-morrow -yourself! Ay, Tiernay, this great and good cause has its national -fatality attached to it, and is so wrapped up in low intrigue and -falsehood, that every minister becomes in turn disgusted with the -treachery and mendacity he meets with, and bequeaths the question to -some official underling, meet partisan for the mock patriot he treats -with." - -"But the expedition will sail, general?" asked I, sadly discomfited by -this tone of despondency. - -He made me no answer, but sat for some time absorbed in his own -thoughts. At last he looked up, and said, "You ought to be in the army -of Italy, boy; the great teacher of war is there." - -"I know it, sir, but my whole heart is in this struggle. I feel that -Ireland has a claim on all who derived even a name from her soil. Do you -not believe that the expedition will sail?" - -Again he was silent and thoughtful. - -"Mr. Madyett would say, Yes," said he, scornfully, "though, certes, he -would not volunteer to bear it company." - -"Colonel Cherin, general!" said the valet, as he flung open the door for -a young officer in a staff-uniform. I arose at once to withdraw, but the -general motioned to me to wait in an adjoining room, as he desired to -speak with me again. - -Scarcely five minutes had elapsed when I was summoned once more before -him. - -"You have come at a most opportune moment, Tiernay," said he; "Colonel -Cherin informs me that an expedition is ready to sail from Rochelle at -the first favorable wind. General Humbert has the command; and if you -are disposed to join him I will give you a letter of presentation." - -Of course I did not hesitate in accepting the offer; and while the -general drew over his desk to write the letter, I withdrew toward the -window to converse with Colonel Cherin. - -"You might have waited long enough," said he, laughing, "if the affair -had been in other hands than Humbert's. The delays and discussions of -the official people, the difficulty of any thing like agreement, the -want of money, and fifty other causes, would have detained the fleet -till the English got scent of the whole. But Humbert has taken the short -road in the matter. He only arrived at La Rochelle five days ago, and -now he is ready to weigh anchor." - -"And in what way has he accomplished this?" asked I, in some curiosity. - -"By a method," replied he, laughing again, "which is usually reserved -for an enemy's country. Growing weary of a correspondence with the -minister, which seemed to make little progress, and urged on by the -enthusiastic stories of the Irish refugees, he resolved to wait no -longer; and so he has called on the merchants and magistrates to advance -him a sum on military requisition, together with such stores and -necessaries as he stands in need of." - -"And they have complied?" asked I. - -"Parbleu! that have they. In the first place, they had no other choice; -and in the second, they are but too happy to get rid of him and his -'Legion Noir,' as they are called, so cheaply. A thousand louis and a -thousand muskets would not pay for the damage of these vagabonds each -night they spent in the town." - -I confess that this description did not tend to exalt the enthusiasm I -had conceived for the expedition; but it was too late for -hesitation--too late for even a doubt. Go forward I should, whatever -might come of it. And now the general had finished his letter, which, -having sealed and addressed, he gave into my hand, saying, "This will -very probably obtain you promotion, if not at once, at least on the -first vacancy. Good-by, my lad; there may be hard knocks going where you -will be, but I'm certain you'll not disgrace the good name you bear, nor -the true cause for which you are fighting. I would that I had youth and -strength to stand beside you in the struggle. Good-by." - -He shook me affectionately by both hands; the colonel, too, bade me -adieu not less cordially; and I took my leave with a heart overflowing -with gratitude and delight. - - -CHAPTER XVII. - -LA ROCHELLE. - -La Rochelle is a quiet little town at the bottom of a small bay, the -mouth of which is almost closed up by two islands. There is a sleepy, -peaceful air about the place--a sort of drowsy languor pervades every -thing and every body about it, that tells of a town whose days of busy -prosperity have long since passed by, and which is dragging out life, -like some retired tradesman--too poor for splendor, but rich enough to -be idle. A long avenue of lime-trees incloses the harbor; and here the -merchants conduct their bargains, while their wives, seated beneath the -shade, discuss the gossip of the place over their work. All is -patriarchal and primitive as Holland itself; the very courtesies of life -exhibiting that ponderous stateliness which insensibly reminds one of -the land of dykes and broad breeches. It is the least "French" of any -town I have ever seen in France; none of that light merriment, that gay -volatility of voice and air which form the usual atmosphere of a French -town. All is still, orderly, and sombre; and yet on the night in -which--something more than fifty years back--I first entered it, a very -different scene was presented to my eyes. - -It was about ten o'clock; and by a moon nearly full, the diligence -rattled along the covered ways of the old fortress, and crossing many a -moat and draw-bridge, the scenes of a once glorious struggle, entered -the narrow streets, traversed a wide place, and drew up within the ample -portals of "La Poste." - -Before I could remove the wide capote which I wore, the waiter ushered -me into a large salôn where a party of about forty persons were seated -at supper. With a few exceptions they were all military officers, and -sous-officiers of the expedition, whose noisy gayety and boisterous -mirth sufficiently attested that the entertainment had begun a -considerable time before. - -A profusion of bottles, some empty, others in the way to become so, -covered the table, amidst which lay the fragments of a common -table-d'hôte supper--large dishes of segars and basins of tobacco -figuring beside the omelettes and the salad. - -The noise, the crash, the heat, the smoke, and the confusion--the -clinking of glasses, the singing, and the speech-making, made a scene of -such turmoil and uproar, that I would gladly have retired to some -quieter atmosphere, when suddenly an accidental glimpse of my uniform -caught some eyes among the revelers, and a shout was raised of "Holloa, -comrades! here's one of the 'Gardes' among us." And at once the whole -assembly rose up to greet me. For full ten minutes I had to submit to a -series of salutations, which led to every form, from hand-shaking and -embracing to kissing; while, perfectly unconscious of any cause for my -popularity, I went through the ceremonies like one in a dream. - -"Where's Kilmaine?" "What of Hardy?" "Is Grouchy coming?" "Can the Brest -fleet sail?" "How many line-of-battle ships have they?" "What's the -artillery force?" "Have you brought any money?" This last question, the -most frequent of all, was suddenly poured in upon me, and with a -fortunate degree of rapidity, that I had no time for a reply, had I even -the means of making one. - -"Let the lad have a seat and a glass of wine before he submits to this -interrogatory," said a fine, jolly-looking old chef-d'escadron at the -head of the table, while he made a place for me at his side. "Now, tell -us, boy, what number of the Gardes are to be of our party?" - -I looked a little blank at the question, for in truth I had not heard of -the corps before, nor was I aware that it was their uniform I was then -wearing. - -"Come, come, be frank with us, lad," said he; "we are all comrades here. -Confound secrecy, say I." - -"Ay, ay!" cried the whole assembly together--"confound secrecy. We are -not bandits nor highwaymen; we have no need of concealment." - -"I'll be as frank as you can wish, comrades," said I; "and if I lose -some importance in your eyes by owning that I am not the master of a -single state secret, I prefer to tell you so, to attempting any unworthy -disguise. I come here, by orders from General Kilmaine, to join your -expedition; and except this letter for General Humbert, I have no claim -to any consideration whatever." - -The old chef took the letter from my hands and examined the seal and -superscription carefully, and then passed the document down the table -for the satisfaction of the rest. - -While I continued to watch with anxious eyes the letter on which so much -of my own fate depended, a low whispering conversation went on at my -side, at the end of which the chef said: - -"It's more than likely, lad, that your regiment is not coming; but our -general is not to be balked for that. Go he will; and let the government -look to themselves if he is not supported. At all events, you had better -see General Humbert at once; there's no saying what that dispatch may -contain. Santerre, conduct him up stairs." - -A smart young fellow arose at the bidding, and beckoned me to follow -him. - -It was not without difficulty that we forced our way up stairs, down -which porters, and sailors, and soldiers were now carrying a number of -heavy trunks and packing-cases. At last we gained an ante-room, where -confusion seemed at its highest, crowded as it was by soldiers, the -greater number of them intoxicated, and all in a state of riotous and -insolent insubordination. Among these were a number of the townspeople, -eager to prefer complaints for outrage and robbery, but whose subdued -voices were drowned amid the clamor of their oppressors. Meanwhile, -clerks were writing away receipts for stolen and pillaged articles, and -which, signed with the name of the general, were grasped at with eager -avidity. Even personal injuries were requited in the same cheap fashion, -orders on the national treasury being freely issued for damaged noses -and smashed heads, and gratefully received by the confiding populace. - -"If the wind draws a little more to the southward before morning, we'll -pay our debts with the top-sail sheet, and it will be somewhat shorter, -and to the full as honest," said a man in a naval uniform. - -"Where's the officer of the 'Regiment des Guides,'" cried a soldier from -the door at the further end of the room; and before I had time to think -over the designation of rank given me, I was hurried into the general's -presence. - -General Humbert, whose age might have been thirty-eight or forty, was a -tall, well-built, but somewhat over-corpulent man; his features frank -and manly, but with a dash of coarseness in their expression, -particularly about the mouth; a sabre-cut, which had divided the upper -lip, and whose cicatrix was then seen through his mustache, heightening -the effect of his sinister look; his carriage was singularly erect and -soldierlike, but all his gestures betrayed the habits of one who had -risen from the ranks, and was not unwilling to revive the recollection. - -He was parading the room from end to end when I entered, stopping -occasionally to look out from an open window upon the bay, where by the -clear moonlight might be seen the ships of the fleet at anchor. Two -officers of his staff were writing busily at a table, whence the -materials of a supper had not been removed. They did not look up as I -came forward, nor did he notice me in any way for several minutes. -Suddenly he turned toward me, and snatching the letter I held in my -hand, proceeded to read it. A burst of coarse laughter broke from him as -he perused the lines; and then throwing down the paper on the table, he -cried out, - -"So much for Kilmaine's contingent. I asked for a company of engineers -and a battalion of 'les Gardes,' and they send me a boy from the -cavalry-school of Saumur. I tell them that I want some fellows -conversant with the language and the people, able to treat with the -peasantry, and acquainted with their habits, and here I have got a raw -youth whose highest acquirement, in all likelihood, is to daub a map -with water-colors, or take fortifications with a pair of compasses! I -wish I had some of these learned gentlemen in the trenches for a few -hours. Parbleu! I think I could teach them something they'd not learn -from Citizen Carnot. Well, sir," said he, turning abruptly toward me, -"how many battalions of the 'Guides' are completed?" - -"I can not tell, general," was my timid answer. - -"Where are they stationed?" - -"Of that also I am ignorant, sir." - -"Peste!" cried he, stamping his foot passionately; then suddenly -checking his anger, he asked, "How many are there coming to join this -expedition? Is there a regiment, a battalion, a company? Can you tell me -with certainty that a sergeant's guard is on the way hither?" - -"I can not, sir; I know nothing whatever about the regiment in -question." - -"You have never seen it?" cried he, vehemently. - -"Never, sir." - -"This exceeds all belief," exclaimed he, with a crash of his closed fist -upon the table. "Three weeks letter-writing! Estafettes, orderlies, and -special couriers to no end! And here we have an unfledged cur from a -cavalry institute, when I asked for a strong reinforcement. Then what -brought you here, boy?" - -"To join your expedition, general." - -"Have they told you it was a holiday-party that we had planned? Did they -say it was a junketing we were bent upon?" - -"If they had, sir, I would not have come." - -"The greater fool _you_, then! that's all," cried he, laughing; "when I -was your age, I'd not have hesitated twice between a merry-making and a -bayonet-charge." - -While he was thus speaking, he never ceased to sign his name to every -paper placed before him by one or other of the secretaries. - -"No, parbleu!" he went on, "La maitresse before the mitraille any day -for me. But what's all this, Girard. Here I'm issuing orders upon the -national treasury for hundreds of thousands without let or compunction." - -The aid-de-camp whispered a word or two in a low tone. - -"I know it, lad; I know it well," said the general, laughing heartily; -"I only pray that all our requisitions may be as easily obtained in -future. Well, Monsieur le Garde, what are we to do with you." - -"Not refuse me, I hope, general," said I, diffidently. - -"Not refuse you, certainly; but in what capacity to take you, lad, -that's the question. If you had served--if you had even walked a -campaign--" - -"So I have, general--this will show you where I have been;" and I handed -him the "livret" which every soldier carries of his conduct and career. - -He took the book, and casting his eyes hastily over it, exclaimed, - -"Why, what's this lad? You've been at Kehl, at Emenendingen, at -Rorshach, at Huyningen, through all that Black Forest affair with -Moreau! You _have_ seen smoke, then. Ay! I see honorable mention of you -besides, for readiness in the field and zeal during action. What! more -brandy! Girard. Why, our Irish friends must have been exceedingly -thirsty. I've given them credit for something like ten thousand 'velts' -already! No matter, the poor fellows may have to put up with short -rations for all this yet--and there goes my signature once more. What -does that blue light mean, Girard?" said he, pointing to a bright blue -star that shone from a mast of one of the ships of war. - -"That is the signal, general, that the embarkation of the artillery is -complete." - -"Parbleu!" said he, with a laugh, "it need not have taken long; they've -given in two batteries of eights, and one of them has not a gun fit for -service. There goes a rocket, now. Isn't that the signal to heave short -on the anchors? Yes, to be sure. And now it is answered by the other! -Ha! lads, this does look like business at last!" - -The door opened as he spoke, and a naval officer entered. - -"The wind is drawing round to the south, general; we can weigh with the -ebb if you wish it." - -"Wish it!--if I wish it! Yes, with my whole heart and soul I do! I am -just as sick of La Rochelle as is La Rochelle of me. The salute that -announces our departure will be a 'feu-de-joie' to both of us. Ay, sir, -tell your captain that I need no further notice than that _he_ is ready. -Girard, see to it that the marauders are sent on board in irons. The -fellows must learn at once that discipline begins when we trip our -anchors. As for you," said he, turning to me, "you shall act upon my -staff with provisional rank as sous-lieutenant: time will show if the -grade should be confirmed. And now hasten down to the quay, and put -yourself under Colonel Lerrasin's orders." - -Colonel Lerrasin, the second in command, was, in many respects, the very -opposite of Humbert. Sharp, petulant, and irascible, he seemed quite to -overlook the fact, that, in an expedition which was little better than a -foray, there must necessarily be a great relaxation of the rules of -discipline, and many irregularities at least winked at, which, in -stricter seasons, would call for punishment. The consequence was, that a -large proportion of our force went on board under arrest, and many -actually in irons. The Irish were, without a single exception, all -drunk; and the English soldiers, who had procured their liberation from -imprisonment on condition of joining the expedition, had made -sufficiently free with the brandy-bottle to forget their new alliance, -and vent their hatred of France and Frenchmen in expressions whose only -alleviation was, that they were nearly unintelligible. - -Such a scene of uproar, discord, and insubordination never was seen. The -relative conditions of guard and prisoner elicited national animosities -that were scarcely even dormant, and many a bloody encounter took place -between those whose instinct was too powerful to feel themselves any -thing but enemies. A cry, too, was raised, that it was meant to betray -the whole expedition to the English, whose fleet, it was asserted, had -been seen off Oleron, that morning; and although there was not even the -shadow of a foundation for the belief, it served to increase the alarm -and confusion. Whether originating or not with the Irish, I can not say, -but certainly they took advantage of it to avoid embarking; and now -began a schism which threatened to wreck the whole expedition, even in -the harbor. - -The Irish, as indifferent to the call of discipline as they were -ignorant of French, refused to obey orders save from officers of their -own country; and, although Lerrasin ordered two companies to "load with -ball and fire low," the similar note for preparation from the -insurgents, induced him to rescind the command and try a compromise. In -this crisis I was sent by Lerrasin to fetch what was called the -"Committee," the three Irish deputies who accompanied the force. They -had already gone aboard of the Dedalus, little foreseeing the -difficulties that were to arise on shore. - -Seated in a small cabin next the wardroom, I found these three -gentlemen, whose names were Tone, Teeling, and Sullivan. Their attitudes -were gloomy and despondent, and their looks anything but encouraging, as -I entered. A paper on which a few words had been scrawled, and signed -with their three names underneath, lay before them, and on this their -eyes were bent with a sad and deep meaning. I knew not then what it -meant, but I afterward learned that it was a compact formally entered -into and drawn up, that if, by the chance of war, they should fall into -the enemy's hands, they would anticipate their fate by suicide, but -leave to the English government all the ignominy and disgrace of their -death. - -They seemed scarcely to notice me as I came forward, and even when I -delivered my message they heard it with a half indifference. - -"What do you want us to do, sir?" said Teeling, the eldest of the party. -"We hold no command in the service. It was against our advice and -counsel that you accepted these volunteers at all. We have no influence -over them." - -"Not the slightest," broke in Tone. "These fellows are bad soldiers and -worse Irishmen. The expedition will do better without them." - -"And _they_ better without the expedition," muttered Sullivan, drily. - -"But you will come, gentlemen, and speak to them," said I. "You can at -least assure them that their suspicions are unfounded." - -"Very true, sir," replied Sullivan, "we can do so, but with what -success? No, no. If you can't maintain discipline here on your own soil, -you'll make a bad hand of doing it when you have your foot on Irish -ground. And, after all, I for one am not surprised at the report gaining -credence." - -"How so, sir," asked I, indignantly. - -"Simply that when a promise of fifteen thousand men dwindles down to a -force of eight hundred; when a hundred thousand stand of arms come to be -represented by a couple of thousand; when an expedition, pledged by a -government, has fallen down to a marauding party; when Hoche or -Kleber--But never mind, I always swore that if you sent but a corporal's -guard, I'd go with them." - -A musket-shot here was heard, followed by a sharp volley and a cheer, -and, in an agony of anxiety, I rushed to the deck. Although above half a -mile from the shore, we could see the movement of troops hither and -thither, and hear the loud words of command. Whatever the struggle, it -was over in a moment, and now we saw the troops descending the steps to -the boats. With an inconceivable speed the men fell into their places, -and, urged on by the long sweeps, the heavy launches swept across the -calm water of the bay. - -If a cautious reserve prevented any open questioning as to the late -affray, the second boat which came alongside revealed some of its -terrible consequences. Seven wounded soldiers were assisted up the side -by their comrades, and in total silence conveyed to their station -between decks. - -"A bad augury this!" muttered Sullivan, as his eye followed them. "They -might as well have left that work for the English!" - -A swift six-oar boat, with the tricolor flag floating from a flag-staff -at her stern, now skimmed along toward us, and as she came nearer, we -could recognize the uniforms of the officers of Humbert's staff, while -the burly figure of the general himself was soon distinguishable in the -midst of them. - -As he stepped up the ladder, not a trace of displeasure could be seen on -his broad bold features. Greeting the assembled officers with a smile, -he asked how the wind was? - -"All fair, and freshening at every moment," was the answer. - -"May it continue!" cried he, fervently. "Welcome a hurricane, if it only -waft us westward!" - -The foresail filled out as he spoke, the heavy mass heaved over to the -wind, and we began our voyage. - -(_To be continued._) - - - - -[From Colburn's Magazine.] - -THE WAHR-WOLF; OR, THE LOVERS OF HUNDERSDORF. - - -There are few rambles that so well repay the summer wanderer who seeks -for novelty, after the fatigues of a London season, as a voyage down the -Danube from Ratisbon to Vienna. In the days when the charming "Lady -Mary" passed along the swelling waters of the dark river in one of the -"wooden houses" which she found so convenient, the romantic solitudes of -the majestic Böhmer-wald had never been disturbed by the hissing of -steam; and swiftly as her boat glided onward between the solemn banks of -the then little frequented stream, the pace of the steamer which now -bears the traveler to his destination, would shame the rowers of the -enterprising embassadress, and leave her far behind. - -The native boats, _Weitz-zille_, are not, however, altogether banished -from the watery way which they traversed alone but a few years since; -and very picturesque is it to meet them as they float lazily on, urged -by their two rowers, and guided by primitive-looking paddles. Many are -the long, deal, raft-shaped vessels which still convey goods from one -town to another; and strange do they appear with their sides painted -with broad black stripes, some of them upward of a hundred feet long. - -From the deck of the narrow and elongated steamer the traveler can now -with proud pity watch those relics of a simple period, and congratulate -himself that his course is both swifter and surer. - -A party of strangers from Ratisbon had taken their places on board the -steam-packet, and were rapidly clearing the waters beneath the rock of -Donaustauf, gazing with admiration on the evidence of two eras presented -in the gray ruins of the formidable middle-age fortress which crowns one -height, and the piled-up white marble blocks of the recently completed -temple of Valhalla, which shines so gloriously on the other, fairly -eclipsing its antique brother, and lording it over the spreading waters, -in which the image of its snowy columns lies reflected. - -There were travelers of many nations on board, and all, attracted by the -sudden vision of this magnificent structure, fraternized to welcome it -with exclamations of delight, uttered in various languages. Germans, -French, and English were alike carried away with admiration; and those -who had already beheld its wonders within became quite eloquent in -describing to their neighbors the treasures with which this -unapproachably splendid temple is filled to overflowing. - -This incident, at the very beginning of the voyage, made most of the -passengers acquainted, so that the usual coldness and reserve common to -northern nations was at once swept away, and animated conversation -ensued. Among the passengers were two young Englishmen, who had been -pointed out to the party leaving Ratisbon, by the porter of the Goldene -Kreutz--(the house in which it is said Don Juan of Austria, the famous -son of Charles V., was born in secrecy)--as "milors," though their -weather-worn costumes gave but little idea of the importance of their -station; they had attached themselves to a stately but courteous -Bohemian baron, who, with a train of servants and carriages more than -commonly well-appointed, was on his way to his castle situated opposite -Vilshofen on the left bank of the river. - -The baron was well acquainted with every nook and corner in every valley -of the winding Danube; and as he was full of good-humor, and described -well, and, besides, was flattered at the interest his hearers took in -his conversation, he enlivened the voyage by a continuous narration of -circumstances which had fallen under his observation. - -A legend seldom comes amiss to an Englishman, and enthusiasm is never -wanting in his mind for magnificent scenery, such as abounds on this -glorious river, which possesses much of the beauty of the Rhine, and -superior grandeur and sublimity. Perhaps its waters are scarcely so -abounding, or its bed so filled to the brim, as that of the Rhine -throughout its course; but, at times, one is half inclined to give the -palm, even in this respect, to the more majestic rival of the beautiful -torrent now so familiar to tourists as to have become an unappreciated -treasure of picturesque riches. - -The baron directed the attention of his companions to all that was wild -and striking in the scenes around them. As they passed Straubing he told -the sad tale of poor Agnes Bernauer, the Agnes de Castro of the Danube, -whose fate was even more terrible. The Englishmen shuddered as they -looked on the spot where the old bridge stood, from whence the fair -unfortunate was cast, and felt inclined to reproach the very waves which -submitted to assist the crime of the cruel wretch whose hook dragged the -shrieking beauty under water, and drowned her as she struggled to reach -the shore. - -He told stories of the dark Bogenberg, as they now approached, now lost -it in the windings of the capricious river; and related how the Emperor -Charlemagne had visited a holy hermit there, whom he beheld, after -cutting down a tree, hang his ax upon a sunbeam, a feat frequently -performed by saints, who, in days of yore, seemed to have no other pegs -for their mantles, caps, &c. - -His Satanic Majesty also figured as a conspicuous actor in the baron's -legends, and the evidences of his prowess are sufficiently remarkable, -it must be confessed, in these regions. - -For instance, it would be absurd to imagine any influence but that of -the foul fiend could have been exerted to place the perpendicular rock -of Natternberg in the way of the steamer, rising up suddenly, as it -does, several hundred feet above the waters, and exhibiting on its -rugged summit the ruins of the famous castle of Bogen, to reach which -must have required help from the bad spirit himself, perched thus high -out of reach. The lords of this castle were, however, such zealous -worshipers of his, that doubtless he was not niggardly to them in -lending a helping hand when called upon. - -It was while the steamer was gliding past the village of Hundersdorf, -which lies at the embouchure of the stream of Kinzach, that the baron -bethought himself of a circumstance which occasioned him to smile, as he -exclaimed, - -"There is nothing very striking, you will say, in that little place; but -a story was once told me concerning it which gives it a sort of fearful -interest. But I have already tired you with too many of my legends, and -will spare you this." - -"By no means," said one of the Englishmen. "We can not let you off so. -Of course, in a place so close to the mysterious Bogenberg, there must -be something more than common." - -"Oh, if you really like to hear what attracts me toward this -insignificant village," replied the baron, "I am ready to tell the story -as it was told to me." - -His auditors, grouping themselves round him as he spoke, he accordingly -continued as follows: - -After a gloomy cold day the evening set in chill and dreary, and in -spite of all the efforts I had made to reach Vilshofen before dark, I -found myself, owing to various vexatious delays, benighted in one of -the desolate passes of the majestic mountain range which borders the -left bank of the Danube. The gloom became every moment deeper and -deeper, and to proceed appeared almost impracticable; however, as the -prospect of passing the night in the woods held out but small -temptation, I urged my people forward, and accordingly we drove rapidly -on, hoping at least to reach some spot more sheltered than the spectral -valley where we found ourselves. Our haste was of little avail; the -spirits of the mountains seemed to laugh our efforts to scorn; and to -prove how much travelers are in their power, they so contrived it that -the wheels of my carriage coming in contact with a heap of rugged -stones, a violent overturn took place, and our further progress was -altogether stopped. We had no choice now but to kindle a fire under a -huge tree, dispose our cloaks and baggage so as to afford us some -protection from the night air, and wait for dawn before we attempted to -trust ourselves again in the shattered vehicle. - -Resolving to submit with a good grace to our misfortune, we produced our -stock of provisions, which hunger made particularly palatable. The fire -soon blazed cheerfully; and as masters and men drew round it, we began -to think our adventure less woeful than we at first considered it. It -was agreed that those of our party who were the most fatigued should -endeavor to procure some sleep, while the watchful should nurse the -useful flame which not only warmed but might protect us from the visits -of wild animals, should any be attracted toward our neighborhood. We had -with us a stout Bavarian, whose lively eyes told that he had little more -inclination to sleep than myself: he and I therefore seated ourselves on -the knotted roots of the ancient oak, and to beguile the time I asked -him some particulars of the country, new at that time to me, but with -which he seemed well acquainted. We are at this moment passing the -places he named; and he said he had traversed these mountains during -many years, indeed, had we followed his advice at Straubing, we had not -then been sitting by the fire, benighted wanderers, listening to him as -you now listen to me. - -"It is unlucky," said the Bavarian, "that there is no moon, for these -heights look well in her broad light and shade; I could otherwise point -out to you many a remarkable spot hereabouts. On the summit of the -highest of these mountains stand the ruins of the famous Stammschloss of -Bogenberg, once belonging to the powerful counts of that race, who -lorded it over all the country they could see from their strong-hold, -far into Bohemia. But it is long since their revels are over, and all is -silent enough in those walls, except on the festivals of the -Wahr-wolves, and then indeed there is such a noise and riot that one -might think the old knights and their vassals were once more engaged in -contest with their ancient enemies of Ortenburg." - -"What mean you," asked I, "by the Wahr-wolves?" - -He stared with astonishment. - -"Is it possible," said he, "that you have not heard of them? They are -certainly more rare of late years, yet there are still too many in the -country." - -"Are they banditti?" said I, instinctively laying my hand on my pistol. - -"Not so," he replied; "since you seem so surprised I will explain. A -Wahr-wolf is a man who has entered into a compact with the Black -Huntsman, which enables him to change his human shape for that of a -wolf, and resume his own form at will. There are many men whom you would -never suspect of such a thing who are known to be of the fraternity. -They meet sometimes in bands and scour the country, doing more mischief -than natural wolves, for when they get into a farm they make wild havoc, -and are mighty beer-drinkers; sometimes, not content with drinking up -all the beer they can find, they pile up the empty barrels in the middle -of the cellar, and go off howling loud enough to scare the whole -country. You smile, but I know a fact relating to one of them which many -besides myself can vouch for as having occurred. A farmer from -Straubing, with some of his people, was passing through these very -mountains, and being overtaken by night, as we are, but not like us -furnished with provisions, one of his men offered to procure some food, -if they would all promise not to tell how he did it. Whereupon he went -away, and in a short time they heard the howling of a wolf; presently -one came in sight bearing a sheep which he had killed. They ran to hide -themselves, but he quietly laid down his prey, and, turning about, ran -off to the heights. Their companion returned not long after, quite out -of breath and much fatigued. They proceeded to cut up and roast part of -the slaughtered animal; but none of them would hold fellowship with the -man afterward, because they knew him at once to be a Wahr-wolf." - -"Do you really credit this?" said I; "and could you suspect a companion -of so incredible a propensity?" - -"When I tell you what was witnessed and recounted to me by my own -father," said the Bavarian, with great gravity, "you will allow that I -have reasons for my belief. - -"Hundersdorf is the native place of our family, and there, when my -father was quite young, lived a mother and her two daughters, Margaret -and Agatha. The first was soon married to a worthy man, a farmer, who by -ill-luck took into his service a young fellow named Augustin Schultes. -No one, to look at him, would have thought his face boded aught but -good, he was so handsome, so gay, and obliging. - -"It was not long before he fell in love with the pretty Agatha, who was -the general favorite of the village, though somewhat proud and shy. At -first she looked down upon the servant of her brother-in-law, but by -degrees was won by his insinuating behavior, for women seldom look -beyond the outside. Her mother, however, would not listen to his or her -entreaties, and nothing but weeping, scolding, and discontent was to be -found in the cottage. All on a sudden every thing seemed altered; and -whereas Augustin never dared to cross the threshold of their house, he -was now a constant guest. By-and-by he left off service and bought a bit -of land of his own and some sheep, having had, according to his own -report, a legacy left him. This latter circumstance explained the change -in the behavior of Agatha's mother, for a poor suitor and a rich one are -widely different persons, and many who had never said a word in -Augustin's favor, now came forward with offers of friendship. Heinrich -Ziegler, however, an unsuccessful lover of Agatha's, was still heard on -all occasions to speak slightingly of Augustin, throwing out hints that -his money was not got in an honest way, so that his insinuations filled -the minds of the neighbors with suspicions which they could not account -for. Some thought he dealt in magic, or had found the Great Secret; but -none imagined the truth, which at last came to light. - -"It happened one evening that my father was returning from work, and had -to pass through a small wood which leads to the village; and, as the -shades began to fall, he hurried on, because there are many strange -things happen in these places which no good Christian should care to -look upon. Suddenly he heard voices not far off, and, as he thought he -recognized them, he stopped to ascertain, when he clearly distinguished -those of Heinrich and Augustin, at least so it seemed to him. - -"'Augustin,' said the former, 'it is of no use; if you do not resign her -I will tell the whole truth, and force you to give her up; for as soon -as it is known what you are--' - -"'Tush!' interrupted the other, 'what better are you yourself? Did we -not take the oath together, and are not you as deeply implicated as I -am. Our master provides us with all we want, and our duty is not so very -hard.' - -"'I tell you,' muttered Heinrich, sullenly, 'my duty is much worse than -yours; the worst of yours is over, mine is but begun. Am I not obliged -to scour the country in the darkest night _to bring sheep to your -fold_?' - -"My father shuddered, a fearful suspicion darkened his mind, which was -soon confirmed by what followed. Heinrich continued: - -"'You get the reward and I the pain; but I will no longer endure it; -either give me up the gold you obtain through my means, or give me up -Agatha.' - -"They then spoke together, too low to be heard, but my father gathered -enough to learn that Augustin promised to take from his comrade the hard -duty he complained of being obliged to perform at night; and still -muttering to each other words of import which my father could not -comprehend, they passed on, and he, terrified and his hair bristling -with horror, hurried through the wood and reached home he scarcely knew -how. - -"He resolved to watch the proceedings of the two comrades narrowly, and -in a little time observed that Augustin's looks were much impaired; -that he went about in the daytime fatigued and haggard, while Heinrich, -who before was dull and heavy, assumed a more cheerful aspect. At length -the time was fixed for the marriage of Agatha and Augustin, and as it -approached he felt greatly disturbed, on considering the conversation he -had overheard: he tried to persuade himself that he had mistaken the -voices or the words, but he still could not divest himself of the -conviction that the two men whose mysterious words he had listened to -were no other than Augustin and Heinrich, and they were, beyond all -possibility of doubt, Wahr-wolves! - -"The day before the wedding was to take place, he directed his steps to -the cottage, and there found Agatha's mother alone; she was sitting in -the window, with a face of wonder and alarm, and held in her hand a -small piece of paper, which, as he entered, she handed to him. - -"'Read this,' said she; 'you are an old friend, advise me what to do to -save my poor child.' - -"On the paper was written, 'Let Agatha fly from the Wahr-wolf.' - -"My father turned pale, and on the widow's earnest entreaties that he -would assist her with his advice, he related all he knew. Great was her -amazement and despair; the more so, as she felt certain that Agatha -would never credit the fact, and must inevitably fall a sacrifice. While -we were in this perplexity, we were startled by the sudden appearance of -Heinrich. His face was very pale, and his eyes wild. - -"'You doubtless wonder,' said he, 'to see me here, and the more so when -I tell you that I come as a saviour to your daughter. I alone have the -means of delivering her, and if you will confide in me, she shall escape -the fate which hangs over her.' - -"He then proceeded to relate that, won over by the deceitful persuasions -of Augustin, he had consented to become his companion in his unhallowed -proceedings; but, having repented, he now resolved to reveal the wicked -practices of his late friend; and if the mother of Agatha would be -guided by him, he would deliver her daughter from all harm. After much -difficulty the mother, by my father's persuasions, at last agreed to -trust him, as no better means offered; and accordingly, having obliged -Heinrich to take a solemn oath of his sincerity, they resolved to -assemble several neighbors, and to put themselves under the guidance of -this new friend. - -"It was night when the whole party met, not far from the gate of -Augustin's cottage. Heinrich advanced first, and, at a signal from him, -every man concealed himself till it was observed that Augustin came out -of the house, and proceeded cautiously onward till he reached the -cemetery just without the village; the watchful band still close on his -track. - -"He there began to undress himself, and having done so, hid his clothes -under a grave-stone. Scarcely had he finished this arrangement, when -the hoarse cry of a raven seemed to startle him, and the sound was -presently answered by a low howl, when, to the inexpressible horror of -all present, a hideous wolf rushed forth, as if from the tombs, and was -lost in the surrounding gloom. - -"No one could stir from the spot where each stood but Heinrich, who -darted toward the place where the garments were hid, and drawing them -forth, wrapped them in a heap, and calling to the petrified group who -looked on, bade them follow. They did so, and having returned to the -village, prepared to complete the directions of Heinrich, who ordered a -large fire to be made, into which all the clothes were thrown; but, to -the surprise of all, among them was discovered the hood and vail of a -female. They were burned with the rest, and as the last spark of the -fire died away, the face of Heinrich seemed to have caught its glow, so -fierce was the expression of his eyes, as he exclaimed, - -"'Now the work of vengeance is complete; now the Black Huntsman has his -own!' - -"He told the trembling lookers-on that on the destruction of these -habiliments depended the Wahr-wolf's power of resuming his human shape, -which had now become quite impossible. - -"After all these ceremonies, each person returned to his respective -dwelling; but my father was unable to obtain a moment's rest all night, -for the continual shrieking of a raven close to his window. As day -dawned the annoyance ceased, and he rose the next morning hoping all he -had witnessed the preceding night was a dream. However, he hastened to -the house of Agatha, and there he found all in confusion and dismay. She -could be nowhere found, nor any trace of her discovered. Heinrich was in -more consternation than any one, and hurried up and down almost -distracted. - -"My father now related how his rest had been disturbed by the hoarse -cries of the raven, and said that such an omen boded no good. He then -proposed seeking for the unfortunate girl in the cemetery, as perhaps, -her mysterious lover had murdered and buried her in one of the tombs. At -the mention of this suspicion, a new light seemed to burst on the -awe-struck Heinrich. He suddenly called out in a piercing voice, - -"'The hood--the vail!--it is too plain, I have betrayed him, and lost -her forever. I burnt her garments, and doubtless, he had taught her his -infernal art, so that she can never be restored to her human form. She -will remain a raven, and he a Wahr-wolf, forever!' - -"So saying, he gnashed his teeth with rage, and, with a wild look, -rushed from the house. No one observed where he went, but, from that -hour, neither he, nor Augustin, nor Agatha, were ever beheld in the -village of Hundersdorf; though often, on a wintry night, the howling of -wolves is heard not far off, and the ill-boding scream of the raven is -sure to echo their horrid yells." - -Such was the wild tale of the Bavarian; and when he had finished, I was -so impressed with the earnestness of his manner, and the firm belief he -attached to this strange relation, that I was not sorry to hear the -voices of my awaking companions, nor unrelieved to observe that day was -breaking. We soon resumed our journey, and it was with little regret I -quitted the gloomy valley where I had listened to the fearful legend of -the Wahr-wolf. - -The superstition is scarcely even yet done away with in these parts, in -spite of the march of civilization, which has sent steam-boats on the -Danube to drive away such follies. I believe, however, there are few -places now, except in the Böhmer-wald, where such monstrous fables are -believed. Such a belief was once current all over France, and, indeed, -wherever wolves existed; but as our robber chiefs end black bands are -pretty well rooted out, no one has any interest in keeping up the credit -of these imaginary culprits. - -"But see," exclaimed the baron, "we are arrived at Vilshofen, and I am -obliged to leave off my gossip, and allow you to pursue your way toward -Vienna. Yonder are the walls of my domicile, and here I must bid you -farewell." - - - - -A TRUE GHOST STORY. - - -"Did you ever hear," said a friend once to me, "a real true ghost story, -one you might depend upon?" - -"There are not many such to be heard," I replied, "and I am afraid it -has never been my good fortune to meet with those who were really able -to give me a genuine, well-authenticated story." - -"Well, you shall never have cause to say so again; and as it was an -adventure that happened to myself, you can scarcely think it other than -well authenticated. I know you to be no coward, or I might hesitate -before I told it to you. You need not stir the fire; there is plenty of -light by which you can hear it. And now to begin. I had been riding hard -one day in the autumn for nearly five or six hours, through some of the -most tempestuous weather to which it had ever been my ill luck to be -exposed. It was just about the time of the Equinox, and perfect -hurricanes swept over the hills, as if every wind in heaven had broken -loose, and had gone mad, and on every hill the rain and driving sleet -poured down in one unbroken shower. - -"When I reached the head of Wentford valley--you know the place, a -narrow ravine with rocks on one side, and those rich full woods (not -that they were very full then, for the winds had shaken them till there -was scarcely a leaf on their bare rustling branches) on the other, with -a clear little stream winding through the hollow dell--when I came to -the entrance of this valley, weather-beaten veteran as I was, I scarcely -knew how to hold on my way; the wind, as it were, held in between the -two high banks, rushed like a river just broken loose into a new -course, carrying with it a perfect sheet of rain, against which my poor -horse and I struggled with considerable difficulty: still I went on, for -the village lay at the other end, and I had a patient to see there, who -had sent a very urgent message, entreating me to come to him as soon as -possible. We are slaves to a message, we poor medical men, and I urged -on my poor jaded brute with a keen relish for the warm fire and good -dinner that awaited me as soon as I could see my unfortunate patient, -and get back to a home doubly valued on such a day as that in which I -was then out. It was indeed dreary riding in such weather; and the scene -altogether, through which I passed, was certainly not the most conducive -toward raising a man's spirits; but I positively half wished myself out -in it all again, rather than sit the hour I was obliged to spend by the -sick-bed of the wretched man I had been summoned to visit. He had met -with an accident the day before, and as he had been drinking up to the -time, and the people had delayed sending for me, I found him in a -frightful state of fever; and it was really an awful thing either to -look at or to hear him. He was delirious, and perfectly furious; and his -face, swelled with passion, and crimson with the fever that was burning -him up, was a sight to frighten children, and not one calculated to add -to the tranquillity even of full-grown men. I dare say you think me very -weak, and that I ought to have been inured to such things, minding his -ravings no more than the dash of the rain against the window; but, -during the whole of my practice, I had never seen man or woman, in -health or in fever, in so frightful a state of furious frenzy, with the -impress of every bad passion stamped so broadly and fearfully upon the -face; and, in the miserable hovel that then held me with his old -witch-like mother standing by, the babel of the wind and rain outside -added to the ravings of the wretched creature within. I began to feel -neither in a happy nor an enviable frame of mind. There is nothing so -frightful as where the reasonable spirit seems to abandon man's body, -and leave it to a fiend instead. - -"After an hour or more waiting patiently by his bedside, not liking to -leave the helpless old woman alone with so dangerous a companion (for I -could not answer for any thing he might do in his frenzy), I thought -that the remedies by which I hoped in some measure to subdue the fever, -seemed beginning to take effect, and that I might leave him, promising -to send all that was necessary, though fearing much that he had gone -beyond all my power to restore him; and desiring that I might -immediately be called back again, should he get worse instead of better, -which I felt almost certain would be the case, I hastened homeward, glad -enough to be leaving wretched huts and raving men, driving rain and -windy hills, for a comfortable house, dry clothes, a warm fire, and a -good dinner. I think I never saw such a fire in my life as the one that -blazed up my chimney; it looked so wonderfully warm and bright, and -there seemed an indescribable air of comfort about the room which I had -never noticed before. One would have thought I should have enjoyed it -all intensely after my wet ride, but throughout the whole evening, the -scenes of the day would keep recurring to my mind with most -uncomfortable distinctness, and it was in vain that I endeavored to -forget it all in a book, one of my old favorites too; so at last I -fairly gave up the attempt, as the hideous face would come continually -between my eyes and an especially good passage; and I went off to bed -heartily tired, and expecting sleep very readily to visit me. Nor was I -disappointed: I was soon deep asleep, though my last thought was on the -little valley I had left. How long this heavy and dreamless sleep -continued, I can not tell, but gradually I felt consciousness returning, -in the shape of the very thoughts with which I fell asleep, and at last -I opened my eyes, thoroughly roused by a heavy blow at my window. I can -not describe my horror, when, by the light of a moon struggling among -the heavy surge-like clouds, I saw the very face, the face of _that_ man -looking in at me through the casement, the eyes distended and the face -pressed close to the glass. I started up in bed, to convince myself that -I really was awake, and not suffering from some frightful dream; there -it staid, perfectly moveless, its wide ghastly eyes fixed unwaveringly -on mine, which, by a kind of fascination, became equally fixed and -rigid, gazing upon the dreadful face, which alone without a body was -visible at the window, unless an indefinable black shadow, that seemed -to float beyond it, might be fancied into one. I can scarcely tell how -long I so sat looking at it, but I remember something of a rushing -sound, a feeling of relief, a falling exhausted back upon my pillow, and -then I awoke in the morning ill and unrefreshed. I was ill at ease, and -the first question I asked, on coming down stairs, was, whether any -messenger had come to summon me to Wentford. A messenger had come, they -told me, but it was to say I need trouble myself no further, as the man -was already beyond all aid, having died about the middle of the night. I -never felt so strangely in my life as when they told me this, and my -brain almost reeled as the events of the previous day and night passed -through my mind in rapid succession. That I had seen something -supernatural in the darkness of the night, I had never doubted, but when -the sun shone brightly into my room in the morning, through the same -window, where I had seen so frightful and strange a sight by the -spectral light of the moon, I began to believe more it was a dream, and -endeavored to ridicule myself out of all uncomfortable feelings, which, -nevertheless, I could not quite shake off. Haunted by what I considered -a painful dream, I left my room, and the first thing I heard was a -confirmation of what I had been for the last hour endeavoring to reason -and ridicule myself out of believing. It was some hours before I could -recover my ordinary tranquillity; and then it came back, not slowly as -you might have expected, as the impression gradually wore off, and time -wrought his usual changes in mind as in body, but suddenly--by the -discovery that our large white owl had escaped during the night, and had -honored my window with a visit before he became quite accustomed to his -liberty." - - - - -[From the London Critic.] - -SKETCHES OF LIFE. BY A RADICAL. - - -It was an error to call this work[25] the autobiography of an -individual. It is a picturing--faithful, minute, and eloquent--of the -hardships, the sufferings, and the miseries endured by a large mass of -our fellow men. It is an earnest and honest exposure of the hollowness -that infests English society--an insight to the weakness of the -substratum. It shows what education should have done, and what -corruption really has done. ALTON LOCKE is also a personification of the -failings, as well as of the sufferings, that make up the sum of -existence of a large class. - -The author has effectually carried out his design--we will not say -altogether with artistic consistency, or with book-making propriety. We -know it is deemed a great offense against taste to make a novel the -medium of exposing social dangers, or political inequalities and wrongs. -We know that those who stick up for "the model," would have a fiction -all fiction, or at least that the philosophy be very subordinate and the -social aim be hidden so completely as not to be discernible excepting to -the professional reader. But _Alton Locke_ is an exception to all these -objections. Spite of its defects, it is a perfect work--perfect, that it -is invested with an air of the wildest romance, while it goes home to -the heart and the judgment as a faithful picture--perfect, that it is -eloquent and natural, and consistent with itself. It is one of those -books which defy classification. We have not seen its like. And to those -readers who accept our eulogy in earnest, _Alton Locke_ will ever remain -a token of rich enjoyment, and a memento that 1850 did produce at least -one cherishable book. - -The story of the biography will not impress so much or so favorably as -the style. The hero is a widow's only child: his mother is a stern -Calvinist. Her teachings, and the teaching of the vipers in religious -form who come to administer consolation and to drink the old lady's tea, -are hateful to an intense degree to ALTON. He is of a poetic -temperament, and a great admirer of nature. Opportunities of indulging -his natural tastes are denied him. Born in a close London street, very -rigidly watched and governed by his mother and the good men who come to -visit her, his life is any thing but pleasant. But he subsequently -becomes a tailor, reads largely, writes verses, turns Chartist, falls -in love, and is imprisoned for spouting Chartism. The upshot of his -rough life is, that he becomes a true Christian. - -Several characters are hit off with great perfection. Such is the mother -of ALTON; and such is SANDYE MACKAYE, a friend to whom the boy -occasionally ran for sympathy, and to borrow books. - -But we will now draw upon the pages of the work itself, merely repeating -that it is a remarkable composition, and one which men in high places -would do well to ponder. It is a growth from the defects of our time, -and should be taken as a presage that change must come. The working-men -of this country will be indebted to ALTON LOCKE for the manner in which -he pleads their cause; all men should be gratified that the warning -voice, which he will inevitably be deemed, is so moderate in tone and so -philosophical in manner. - -ALTON'S youth, we have said, was not happy. The following are his -descriptions of his mother, and one of her associates: - - -ALTON'S MOTHER AND THE MISSIONARY. - -"My mother moved by rule and method; by God's law, as she considered, -and that only. She seldom smiled. Her word was absolute. She never -commanded twice, without punishing. And yet there were abysses of -unspoken tenderness in her, as well as clear, sound, womanly sense and -insight. But she thought herself as much bound to keep down all -tenderness as if she had been some ascetic of the middle ages--so do -extremes meet! It was 'carnal,' she considered. She had as yet no right -to have any 'spiritual affection' for us. We were still 'children of -wrath and of the devil'--not yet 'convinced of sin,' 'converted, born -again.' She had no more spiritual bond with us, she thought, than she -had with a heathen or a papist. She dared not even pray for our -conversion, earnestly as she prayed on every other subject. For though -the majority of her sect would have done so, her clear, logical sense -would yield to no such tender inconsistency. Had it not been decided -from all eternity? We were elect, or we were reprobate. Could her -prayers alter that? If He had chosen us, He would call us in His own -good time: and, if not, ----. Only, again and again, as I afterward -discovered from a journal of hers, she used to beseech God with agonized -tears to set her mind at rest by revealing to her His will toward us. -For that comfort she could at least rationally pray. But she received no -answer. Poor, beloved mother! If thou couldst not read the answer, -written in every flower and every sunbeam, written in the very fact of -our existence here at all, what answer would have sufficed thee? And -yet, with all this, she kept the strictest watch over our morality. -Fear, of course, was the only motive she employed; for how could our -still carnal understandings be affected with love to God? And love to -herself was too paltry and temporary to be urged by one who knew that -her life was uncertain, and who was always trying to go down to deepest -eternal ground and reason of every thing, and take her stand upon that. -So our god, or gods rather, till we were twelve years old, were hell, -the rod, the Ten Commandments, and public opinion. Yet under them, not -they, but something deeper far, both in her and us, preserved us pure. -Call it natural character, conformation of the spirit--conformation of -the brain, if you like, if you are a scientific man and a phrenologist. -I never yet could dissect and map out my own being, or my neighbor's, as -you analysts do. - - * * * * * - -"My heart was in my mouth as I opened the door to them, and sunk back -again to the very lowest depths of my inner man when my eyes fell on the -face and figure of the missionary--a squat, red-faced, pig-eyed, -low-browed man, with great soft lips that opened back to his very ears; -sensuality, conceit, and cunning marked on every feature--an innate -vulgarity, from which the artisan and the child recoil with an instinct -as true, perhaps truer, than that of the courtier, showing itself in -every tone and motion--I shrunk into a corner, so crest-fallen that I -could not even exert myself to hand round the bread-and-butter, for -which I got duly scolded afterward. Oh! that man!--how he bawled and -contradicted, and laid down the law, and spoke to my mother in a -fondling, patronizing way, which made me, I knew not why, boil over with -jealousy and indignation. How he filled his teacup half full of the -white sugar to buy which my mother had curtailed her yesterday's -dinner--how he drained the few remaining drops of the three-penny worth -of cream, with which Susan was stealing off to keep it as an unexpected -treat for my mother at breakfast next morning--how he talked of the -natives, not as St. Paul might of his converts, but as a planter might -of his slaves; overlaying all his unintentional confessions of his own -greed and prosperity, with cant, flimsy enough for even a boy to see -through, while his eyes were not blinded with the superstition that a -man must be pious who sufficiently interlards his speech with a jumble -of old English picked out of our translation of the New Testament. Such -was the man I saw. I don't deny that all are not like him. I believe -there are noble men of all denominations doing their best, according to -their light, all over the world; but such was the one I saw--and the men -who are sent home to plead the missionary cause, whatever the men may be -like who stay behind and work, are, from my small experience, too often -such. It appears to me to be the rule that many of those who go abroad -as missionaries, go simply because they are men of such inferior powers -and attainments that if they staid in England they would starve." - - -ALTON'S STUDY. - -"I slept in a little lean-to garret at the back of the house, some ten -feet long by six wide. I could just stand upright against the inner -wall, while the roof on the other side ran down to the floor. There was -no fire-place in it or any means of ventilation. No wonder I coughed all -night accordingly, and woke about two every morning with choking throat -and aching head. My mother often said that the room was 'too small for a -Christian to sleep in, but where could she get a better?' Such was my -only study. I could not use it as such, however, at night without -discovery; for my mother carefully looked in every evening, to see that -my candle was out. But when my kind cough woke me, I rose, and creeping -like a mouse about the room--for my mother and sister slept in the next -chamber, and every sound was audible through the narrow partition--I -drew my darling books out from under a board in the floor one end of -which I had gradually loosened at odd minutes, and with them a -rushlight, earned by running on messages, or by taking bits of work -home, and finishing them for my fellows. No wonder that with this scanty -rest, and this complicated exertion of hands, eyes, and brain, followed -by the long dreary day's work of the shop, my health began to fail; my -eyes grew weaker and weaker; my cough became more acute; my appetite -failed me daily. My mother noticed the change, and questioned me about -it, affectionately enough. But I durst not, alas! tell the truth. It was -not one offense, but the arrears of months of disobedience which I -should have had to confess; and so arose infinite false excuses, and -petty prevarications, which embittered and clogged still more my already -overtasked spirit. Before starting forth to walk two miles to the shop -at six o'clock in the morning, I sat some three or four hours shivering -on my bed, putting myself into cramped and painful postures, not daring -even to cough, lest my mother should fancy me unwell, and come in to see -me, poor dear soul!--my eyes aching over the page, my feet wrapped up in -the bed-clothes to keep them from the miserable pain of the cold; -longing, watching, dawn after dawn, for the kind summer mornings, when I -should need no candlelight. Look at the picture awhile, ye comfortable -folks, who take down from your shelves what books you like best at the -moment, and then lie back, amid prints and statuettes, to grow wise in -an easy chair, with a blazing fire and a camphine lamp. The lower -classes uneducated! Perhaps you would be so too, if learning cost you -the privation which it costs some of them." - - * * * * * - -But ALTON read largely, notwithstanding his privations. What of his time -was not spent on the tailor's board, was devoted to the writings of the -great spirits of the age. On a holiday he visited the National Gallery, -and learned to love and bless the painters. He studied narrowly MILTON -and TENNYSON, and many other writers, and among them "that great prose -poem, the single epic of modern days, THOMAS CARLYLE'S _French -Revolution_." ALTON'S daydreams were more numerous than we should -imagine are those of the majority of men who are steeped in poverty as -he was; and he has described them well. When he did learn to walk into -the fields, he truly enjoyed the liberty thus attained. - - -THE FIRST SIP OF FREEDOM. - -"It was a glorious morning at the end of May; and when I escaped from -the pall of smoke which hung over the city, I found the sky a sheet of -cloudless blue. How I watched for the ending of the rows of houses, -which lined the road for miles--the great roots of London, running far -out into the country, up which poured past me an endless stream of food, -and merchandise, and human beings--the sap of the huge metropolitan -life-tree! How each turn of the road opened a fresh line of terraces or -villas, till hope deferred made the heart sick, and the country -seemed--like the place where the rainbow touches the ground, or the El -Dorado of Raleigh's Guiana settlers--always a little farther off! How, -between gaps in the houses right and left, I caught tantalizing glimpses -of green fields, shut from me by dull lines of high-spiked palings! How -I peeped through gates and over fences at trim lawns and gardens, and -longed to stay, and admire, and speculate on the names of the strange -plants and gaudy flowers; and then hurried on, always expecting to find -something still finer ahead--something really worth stopping to look -at--till the houses thickened again into a street, and I found myself, -to my disappointment, in the midst of a town! And then more villas and -palings; and then a village: when would they stop, those endless houses? -At last they did stop. Gradually the people whom I passed began to look -more and more rural, and more toil-worn and ill-fed. The houses ended, -cattle yards and farm buildings appeared; and right and left, far away, -spread the low rolling sheet of green meadows and corn-fields. Oh, the -joy! The lawns with their high elms and firs, the green hedgerows, the -delicate hue and scent of the fresh clover-fields, the steep clay banks -where I stopped to pick nosegays of wild flowers, and became again a -child--and then recollected my mother, and a walk with her on the river -bank toward the Red House. I hurried on again, but could not be unhappy, -while my eyes ranged free, for the first time in my life, over the -checkered squares of cultivation, over glittering brooks, and hills -quivering in the green haze, while above hung the skylarks, pouring out -their souls in melody. And then, as the sun grew hot, and the larks -dropped one by one into the growing corn, the new delight of the blessed -silence! I listened to the stillness; for noise had been my native -element; I had become in London quite unconscious of the ceaseless roar -of the human sea, casting up mire and dirt. And now, for the first time -in my life, the crashing, confusing hubbub had flowed away, and left my -brain calm and free. How I felt at that moment a capability of clear, -bright meditation, which was as new to me, as I believe it would have -been to most Londoners in my position. I can not help fancying that our -unnatural atmosphere of excitement, physical as well as moral, is to -blame for very much of the working-men's restlessness and fierceness. As -it was, I felt that every step forward, every breath of fresh air, gave -me new life. I had gone fifteen miles before I recollected that, for the -first time for many months, I had not coughed since I rose." - - * * * * * - -The following is the utterance in a more eloquent mode, of some -startling facts revealed by the London Correspondent of _The Morning -Chronicle_: - - -THE TERRORS OF THE COMPETITIVE SYSTEM. - -"Well: one day our employer died. He had been one of the old sort of -fashionable West-end tailors in the fast decreasing honorable trade; -keeping a modest shop, hardly to be distinguished from a dwelling-house, -except by his name on the window blinds. He paid good prices for work, -though not as good, of course, as he had given twenty years before, and -prided himself upon having all his work done at home. His work-rooms, as -I have said, were no elysiums; but still, as good, alas! as those of -three tailors out of four. He was proud, luxurious, foppish; but he was -honest and kindly enough, and did many a generous thing by men who had -been long in his employ. At all events, his journeymen could live on -what he paid them. - -"But his son, succeeding to the business, determined, like Rehoboam of -old, to go ahead with the times. Fired with the great spirit of the -nineteenth century--at least with that one which is vulgarly considered -its especial glory--he resolved to make haste to be rich. His father had -made money very slowly of late; while dozens, who had begun business -long after him, had now retired to luxurious ease and suburban villas. -Why should he remain in the minority? Why should he not get rich as fast -as he could? Why should he stick to the old, slow-going, honorable -trade? Out of some 450 West-end tailors, there were not one hundred left -who were old-fashioned and stupid enough to go on keeping down their own -profits by having all their work done at home and at first-hand. -Ridiculous scruples! The government knew none such. Were not the army -clothes, the post-office clothes, the policemen's clothes, furnished by -contractors and sweaters, who hired the work at low prices, and let it -out again to journeymen at still lower ones? Why should he pay his men -two shillings where the government paid them one? Were there not cheap -houses even at the West-end, which had saved several thousands a year -merely by reducing their workmen's wages? And if the workmen chose to -take lower wages, he was not bound actually to make them a present of -more than they asked for. They would go to the cheapest market for any -thing they wanted, and so must he. Besides, wages had really been quite -exorbitant. Half his men threw each of them as much money away in gin -and beer yearly, as would pay two workmen at a cheap house. Why was he -to be robbing his family of comforts to pay for their extravagance? And -charging his customers, too, unnecessarily high prices--it was really -robbing the public! - -"Such, I suppose, were some of the arguments which led to an official -announcement, one Saturday night, that our young employer intended to -enlarge his establishment, for the purpose of commencing business in the -'show trade;' and that, emulous of Messrs. Aaron, Levi, and the rest of -that class, magnificent alterations were to take place in the premises, -to make room for which our work-rooms were to be demolished, and that -for that reason--for of course it was only for that reason--all work -would in future be given out, to be made up at the men's own homes.... - -"'We were all bound to expect this. Every working tailor must come to -this at last, on the present system; and we are only lucky in having -been spared so long. You all know where this will end--in the same -misery as fifteen thousand out of twenty thousand of our class are -enduring now. We shall become the slaves, often the bodily prisoners, of -Jews, middlemen, and sweaters, who draw their livelihood out of our -starvation. We shall have to face, as the rest have, ever decreasing -prices of labor, ever increasing profits made out of that labor by the -contractors who will employ us--arbitrary fines, inflicted at the -caprice of hirelings--the competition of women, and children, and -starving Irish--our hours of work will increase one-third, our actual -pay decrease to less than one-half; and in all this we shall have no -hope, no chance of improvement in wages, but ever more penury, slavery, -misery, as we are pressed on by those who are sucked by fifties--almost -by hundreds--yearly, out of the honorable trade in which we were brought -up, into the infernal system of contract work, which is devouring our -trade and many others, body and soul. Our wives will be forced to sit up -night and day to help us; our children must labor from the cradle -without chance of going to school, hardly of breathing the fresh air of -heaven; our boys, as they grow up, must turn beggars or paupers; our -daughters, as thousands do, must eke out their miserable earnings by -prostitution. And after all, a whole family will not gain what one of us -had been doing, as yet, single-handed.'... - -"'Government--government? You a tailor, and not know that government are -the very authors of this system? Not to know that they first set the -example, by getting the army and navy clothes made by contractors, and -taking the lowest tenders? Not to know that the police clothes, the -postmen's clothes, the convicts' clothes, are all contracted for on the -same infernal plan, by sweaters, and sweaters' sweaters, and sweaters' -sweaters' sweaters, till government work is just the very last, lowest -resource to which a poor, starved-out wretch betakes himself to keep -body and soul together? Why, the government prices, in almost every -department, are half, and less than half, the very lowest living price. -I tell you, the careless iniquity of government about these things will -come out some day. It will be known, the whole abomination; and future -generations will class it with the tyrannies of the Roman emperors and -the Norman barons. Why, it's a fact, that the colonels of the -regiments--noblemen, most of them--make their own vile profit out of us -tailors--out of the pauperism of the men, the slavery of the children, -the prostitution of the women. They get so much a uniform allowed them -by government to clothe the men with; and then--then, they let out the -jobs to the contractors at less than half what government give them, and -pocket the difference. And then you talk of appealing to government!'" - - * * * * * - -Only DICKENS or THACKERAY could have rivaled the following sketch of a -discussion on - - -THE REAL OFFICE OF POETRY. - -"'What do you mean, Mr. Mackaye!' asked I, with a doleful and -disappointed visage. - -"'Mean--why, if God had meant ye to write about Pacifics, He'd ha put ye -there--and because He means ye to write aboot London town, He's put ye -there--and gien ye an unco sharp taste o' the ways o't; and I'll gie ye -anither. Come along wi' me.' - -"And he seized me by the arm, and hardly giving me time to put on my -hat, marched me out into the streets, and away through Clare Market to -St. Giles's. - -"It was a foul, chilly, foggy Saturday night. From the butchers' and -greengrocers' shops the gas-lights flared and flickered, wild and -ghastly, over haggard groups of slip-shod, dirty women, bargaining for -scraps of stale meat, and frost-bitten vegetables, wrangling about short -weight and bad quality. Fish-stalls and fruit-stalls lined the edge of -the greasy pavement, sending up odors as foul as the language of the -sellers and buyers. Blood and sewer-water crawled from under doors and -out of spouts, and reeked down the gutters among offal, animal and -vegetable, in every stage of putrefaction. Foul vapors rose from -cow-sheds and slaughter-houses, and the doorways of undrained alleys, -where the inhabitants carried the filth out on their shoes from the back -yard into the court, and from the court up into the main street; while -above hanging like cliffs over the streets--those narrow, brawling -torrents of filth, and poverty, and sin--the houses with their teeming -load of life were piled up into the dingy choking night. A ghastly, -deafening, sickening sight it was. Go, scented Belgravian! and see what -London is! and then go to the library which God has given thee--one -often fears in vain--and see what science says this London might be! - -"'Ay,' he muttered to himself, as he strode along, 'sing awa; get -yoursel' wi' child wi' pretty fancies and gran' words, like the rest of -the poets, and gang to hell for it.' - -"'To hell, Mr. Mackaye?' - -"'Ay, to a verra real hell, Alton Locke, laddie--a warse ane than ony -fiend's' kitchen, or subterranean Smithfield that ye'll hear o' in the -pulpits--the hell on earth o' being a flunkey, and a humbug, and a -useless peacock, wasting God's gifts on your ain lusts and -pleasures--and kenning it--and not being able to get oot o' it, for the -chains o' vanity and self-indulgence. I've warned ye. Now look there--' - -"He stopped suddenly before the entrance of a miserable alley: - -"'Look! there's not a soul down that yard, but's either beggar, -drunkard, thief, or warse. Write aboot that! Say how ye saw the mouth o' -hell, and the twa pillars thereof at the entry--the pawnbroker's shop o' -one side and the gin palace at the other--twa monstrous deevils, eating -up men and women, and bairns, body and soul. Look at the jaws o' the -monsters, how they open and open, and swallow in anither victim and -anither. Write aboot that.' - -"'What jaws, Mr. Mackaye!' - -"'Thae faulding-doors o' the gin shop, goose. Are na they a mair -damnable man-devouring idol than ony red-hot statue o' Moloch, or wicker -Gogmagog, wherein thae auld Britons burnt their prisoners? Look at _thae -barefooted, barebacked hizzies, with their arms roun' the men's necks, -and their mouths full o' vitriol and beastly words_! Look at that -Irishwoman pouring the gin down the babbie's throat! Look at that raff -o' a boy gaun out o' the pawnshop, where he's been pledging the -handkerchief he stole the morning, into the ginshop, to buy beer -poisoned wi' grains o' paradise, and cocculus indicus, and saut, and a' -damnable, maddening, thirst-breeding, lust-breeding drugs! Look at that -girl that went in wi' a shawl on her back and cam out wi'out ane! -_Drunkards frae the breast!--harlots frae the cradle!--damned before -they're born!_ John Calvin had an inkling o' the truth there, I'm a'most -driven to think, wi' his reprobation deevil's doctrines!' - -"'Well--but--Mr. Mackaye, I know nothing about these poor creatures.' - -"'Then ye ought. What do ye ken aboot the Pacific? Which is maist to -your business?--thae bare-backed hizzies that play the harlot o' the -other side o' the warld, or these--these thousands o' barebacked hizzies -that play the harlot o' your ain side--made out o' your ain flesh and -blude? You a poet! True poetry, like true charity, my laddie, begins at -hame. If ye'll be a poet at a', ye maun be a cockney poet; and while the -cockneys be what they be, ye maun write, like Jeremiah of old, o' -lamentation and mourning and woe, for the sins o' your people. Gin ye -want to learn the spirit o' a people's poet, down wi' your Bible and -read thae auld Hebrew prophets; gin ye wad learn the style, read your -Burns frae morning till night; and gin ye'd learn the matter, just gang -after your nose, and keep your eyes open, and ye'll no miss it.'" - - * * * * * - -One other extract, and we will have done with this original but -captivating and convincing volume. ALTON speaks prophetically of - - -THE DANGERS THAT ARE LOOMING. - -"Ay, respectable gentlemen and ladies, I will confess all to you--you -shall have, if you enjoy it, a fresh opportunity for indulging that -supreme pleasure which the press daily affords you of insulting the -classes whose powers most of you know as little as you do their -sufferings. Yes; the Chartist poet is vain, conceited, ambitious, -uneducated, shallow, inexperienced, envious, ferocious, scurrilous, -seditious, traitorous.--Is your charitable vocabulary exhausted? Then -ask yourselves, how often have you yourself, honestly resisted and -conquered the temptation to any one of these sins, when it has come -across you just once in a way, and not as they came to me, as they come -to thousands of the working-men, daily and hourly, 'till their torments -do, by length of time, become their elements?' What, are we covetous, -too? Yes? And if those who have, like you, still covet more what wonder -if those who have nothing, covet something? Profligate too? Well, though -that imputation as a generality is utterly calumnious, though your -amount of respectable animal enjoyment per annum is a hundred times as -great as that of the most self-indulgent artisan, yet, if you had ever -felt what it is to want, not only every luxury of the senses, but even -bread to eat, you would think more mercifully of the man who makes up by -rare excesses, and those only of the limited kinds possible to him, for -long intervals of dull privation, and says in his madness, 'Let us eat -and drink, for to-morrow we die!' We have our sins, and you have yours. -Ours may be the more gross and barbaric, but yours are none the less -damnable; perhaps all the more so, for being the sleek, subtle, -respectable, religious sins they are. You are frantic enough if our part -of the press calls you hard names, but you can not see that your part of -the press repays it back to us with interest. _We_ see those insults, -and feel them bitterly enough; and do not forget them, alas! soon -enough, while they pass unheeded by your delicate eyes as trivial -truisms. Horrible, unprincipled, villainous, seditious, frantic, -blasphemous, are epithets of course when applied to--to how large a -portion of the English people, you will some day discover to your -astonishment. When will that day come, and how? In thunder, and storm, -and garments rolled in blood? Or like the dew on the mown grass, and the -clear shining of the sunlight after April rain?" - - - FOOTNOTE: - - [25] ALTON LOCKE, Tailor and Poet--An Autobiography. In the press - of Messrs. Harper and Brothers. - - - - -BURKE AND THE PAINTER BARRY. - - -Burke delighted in lending a helping hand to genius struggling against -adversity; and many who were wasting their powers in obscurity were led -by his assistance to the paths of eminence. Barry, the painter, was -among those to whom he had shown great kindness; he found pleasure in -the society of that eccentric being. A long time had passed without his -having seen him, when one day they met accidentally in the street. The -greeting was cordial, and Barry invited his friend to dine with him the -next day. Burke arrived at the appointed hour, and the door was opened -by Dame Ursula, as she was called. She at first denied her master, but -when Burke mentioned his name, Barry, who had overheard it, came running -down stairs. He was in his usual attire; his thin gray hair was all -disheveled; an old and soiled green shade and a pair of mounted -spectacles assisted his sight; the color of his linen was rather -equivocal, but was evidently not fresh from the bleach-green; his -outward garment was a kind of careless _roquelaire_. He gave Burke a -most hearty welcome, and led him into the apartment which served him for -kitchen, parlor, studio, and gallery; it was, however, so filled with -smoke that its contents remained a profound mystery, and Burke was -almost blinded and nearly suffocated. Barry expressed the utmost -surprise, and appeared utterly at a loss to account for the state of the -atmosphere. Burke, however, without endeavoring to explain the mystery -on philosophical principles, at once brought the whole blame of the -annoyance home to Barry--as it came out that he had removed the stove -from its wonted situation by the chimney-piece, and drawn it into the -very middle of the room. He had mounted it on an old dripping-pan, to -defend the carpet from the burning ashes; he had in vain called in the -assistance of the bellows, no blaze would come--but volumes of smoke -were puffed out ever and anon, as if to show that the fire could do -something if it pleased. Burke persuaded Barry to reinstate the stove in -its own locality, and helped him to replace it; this done and the -windows opened, they got rid of the smoke, and the fire soon looked out -cheerfully enough on them, as if nothing had happened. Barry invited -Burke to the upper rooms to look at his pictures. As he went on from one -to the other, he applied the sponge and water with which he was -supplied, to wash away the dust which obscured them. Burke was delighted -with them, and with Barry's history of each, and his dissertation as he -pointed out its particular beauties. He then brought him to look at his -bedroom; its walls were hung with unframed pictures, which had also to -be freed from the thick covering of dust before they could be admired; -these, like the others, were noble specimens of art. In a recess near -the fire-place the rough stump-bedstead stood, with its coverlet of -coarse rug. - -"That is my bed," said the artist; "you see I use no curtains; they are -most unwholesome, and I breathe as freely and sleep as soundly as if I -lay upon down and snored under velvet. Look there," said he, as he -pointed to a broad shelf high above the bed, "that I consider my -_chef-d'oeuvre_; I think I have been more than a match for them; I have -outdone them at last." - -Mr. Burke asked of whom it was he spoke. - -"The rats," replied he, "the nefarious rats, who robbed me of every -thing in the larder. But now all is safe; I keep my food beyond their -reach. I may now defy all the rats in the parish." - -Barry had no clock, so depended on the cravings of his stomach to -regulate his meals. By this unerring guide, which might have shamed the -most correct regulator in a watchmaker's shop, he perceived that it was -time for dinner; but forgot that he had invited Burke to partake of it, -till reminded by a hint. - -"I declare, my dear friend, I had totally forgotten, I beg your -pardon--it quite escaped my memory; but if you'll just sit down here and -blow the fire, I'll get a nice beef-steak in a minute." - -Burke applied all his energies to the bellows, and had a nice clear fire -when Barry returned with the steak rolled up in cabbage-leaves, which he -drew from his pocket; from the same receptacle he produced a parcel of -potatoes; a bottle of port was under each arm, and each hand held a -fresh French-roll. A gridiron was placed on the fire, and Burke was -deputed to act as cook while Barry performed the part of butler. While -he laid the cloth the old woman boiled the potatoes, and at five -o'clock, all being duly prepared, the friends sat down to their repast. -Burke's first essay in cookery was miraculously successful, for the -steak was done to admiration, and of course greatly relished by the -cook. As soon as dinner was dispatched the friends chatted away over -their two bottles of port till nine o'clock. Burke was often heard to -say that this was one of the most amusing and delightful days he had -ever spent. - - - - -[From Hogg's Instructor.] - -THE IRON RING. - -A TALE OF GERMAN ROBBERS AND GERMAN STUDENTS. - - -"I am inclined to side with our friend," said the venerable pastor, "and -I would rather not see you so skeptical, Justus. I have known, in my own -experience, several remarkable instances of presentiments; indeed, on -one occasion, I and those who were with me, all save one, greatly -profited by the strange prophetic apprehension of one of our party. -Would we had listened to him sooner! But it was not so to be." - -"Come, tell us the story, dear grandfather," said Justus; "it will -doubtless edify our guest; and, as for me, I do not object to be -mystified now and then." - -"Justus, Justus, lay aside that scoffing mask. You put it on, I know, to -look like another Mephistopheles, but you don't succeed." - -"Don't I?" returned Justus, with a smile. "Well, grandfather, that ought -to be a comfort to you." - -"No, you don't, so you may as well give up trying. But come, if you -would really like to hear the story" (the fact was, that the good man -was anxious to tell it, and feared to lose the opportunity), "I shall be -happy to please you. I think, however, we shall be better out of doors. -Let us go and take our wine under the great plane-tree. You had as well -bring your chair with you, my young friend" (this was addressed to me), -"for the bench is somewhat hard. And Trinchen, my girl, put glasses on a -tray, and some bottles of wine in a pail, and bring them out to us under -the great plane-tree. And you, Justus, my boy, be kind enough to -transport thither this big chair of mine, like a dutiful grandson and a -stout, as you are." - -We were soon established in the pleasant shade. The pastor took an easy -posture in his chair, when, after many efforts, Justus had coaxed it -into touching the ground with all its four legs at once; I straddled -across the seat of mine, and, placing my arms on the back, reposed the -bowl of my long pipe on the ground; and Justus, with his cigar in his -mouth--the twentieth, or thereby, that day--threw himself down on the -turf at a convenient distance from the wine-pail, prepared to replenish -our glasses, as need might be. Noble glasses they were, tall and green, -with stalks to be grasped, not fingered. - -"It is now nearly sixty years ago," began the pastor, when our -arrangements were complete, "a long time--a long time, indeed, to bear -the staff of one's pilgrimage. I was then in my third year at the -university, and was something like what you are now, Justus--a merry, -idle, and thoughtless student, but not a very bad boy either." - -"Thank you, grandfather," said Justus; "however, that accounts for your -being the man you are at your years." - -"No, it does not," said the old man, smiling; "but let me tell my story, -my boy, without interrupting me--at least, unless you have something -better to say than that. As I was saying, I was in my third year, and, -of course, I had many acquaintances. I had, however, only two friends. -One was a countryman of yours, young gentleman, and his name was -Macdonald. The name of the other was Laurenberg." - -"Why, that was my grandmother's name!" said Justus. - -"Laurenberg was your grandmother's brother," continued the pastor, "and -the event I am about to relate to you was the means of my becoming -acquainted with her. But has any one ever told you his fate, Justus?" - -"No," said Justus, "I never before even heard of him." - -"That is not wonderful, my boy; for, since his sister was taken from me, -there has been no one but me to remember my poor Laurenberg. But, as I -was saying, these two were my only friends. That summer, when the -vacation came, we three resolved to make a pedestrian tour together. -(Fill our glasses, Justus.) So, after some discussion, we decided on -visiting the great Thuringian Forest, and one fine morning off we set. -Just as we got beyond the town, Macdonald said, 'My dear brothers, let -us return; this expedition will bring us no good.' 'You would almost -make one think you were a prophet,' said Laurenberg, with mock gravity. -'And what if I be?' cried the other, quickly. 'Why, then, don't be a -prophet of evil--that is to say, unless you can not help it. Come, my -dear fellow.' 'I tell you,' interrupted Macdonald, 'that, if we go on, -one of us will never see Göttingen again--and Laurenberg, my beloved -Laurenberg, it is you who will be that one. You will never return, -unless you return now. I tell you this, for I know it.' 'Oh, nonsense,' -said the other; 'pray, how do you know it?' It seemed to me that -Macdonald slightly shuddered at the question, but he went on as if not -heeding it: 'He of us three who first left the house, is destined never -to enter it again, and that was the reason why I tried to get out before -you. You, Laurenberg, in your folly, ran past me, and it is thus on you -that the lot has fallen. Laugh if you will; if you had let me go before -you, I would have said nothing; but as it is, I say, laugh if you will, -and call me a dreamer, or what you please, only return, my friends, -return. Let us go back.' 'Let us go on. Forward!' cried Laurenberg; 'I -do not laugh at you, my brother, but I think you are scarcely -reasonable; for either you have truly foreseen what is to happen, or you -have not. If you have, then what is to happen _will_ happen, and we can -not avoid it; if you have not, why, then it will not happen, and that is -all. Either you foresee truly my destiny--' He was going on, but -Macdonald interrupted him: 'It is with such reasoning that men lose -themselves in this world--and in the next,' he added, after a pause. -'Oho! dear schoolfox,' returned the other, 'we have not undertaken our -march to chop logic and wind metaphysics, but, on the contrary, to be -merry and enjoy ourselves. So,' and he sung, - - 'There wander'd three Burschen along by the Rhine; - At the door of a wine-house, they knocked and went in, - Landlady, have you got good beer and wine?' - -'Laurenberg, your gayety is oppressive,' interrupted Macdonald; 'why -sing that song? You know there is death in it.' 'It is true,' replied -Laurenberg, somewhat gravely, 'the poor little daughter of the landlady -lies in her coffin. Another stave, then, if you like it better, - - 'Up, brothers! up! enjoy your life!' - -and so on he went with that stupid song." - -"Stupid!" cried Justus, rising suddenly on his elbow; "stupid, did you -say, grandfather?" - -"Well, my boy, I think it stupid now, though at your age, perhaps, I -thought differently. But there," continued the pastor, "I was sure of -it; I never can keep both my pipe and my story going at the same time. -Give me a light, Justus. Thank you. Those matches are a great invention. -In our time, it was all flint, and steel, and trouble. Now, fill our -glasses, and then I shall go on again." - -Justus obeyed, and his worthy relative thus proceeded: - -"Notwithstanding all his singing, Laurenberg was evidently more -impressed by our companion's words than he was willing to own; and, as -for me, I was much struck with them, for your countryman, young -stranger, was no common man. But all that soon wore off. Even Macdonald -seemed to forget his own forebodings. We marched on right cheerfully. -That night we stopped at Heiligenstadt, very tired, for it was a long -way for lads so little used to walking as we were." - -"Did you put up at the Post, grandfather?" asked Justus. "It is a -capital inn, and the landlady is both pretty and civil. I staid there -when I went from Cassel to Halle." - -"I don't remember where we put up," replied the pastor, "but it is -scarcely likely we put up at the Post. In those days, students preferred -more modest hostelries. Don't interrupt me. The next night we slept at -Dingelstadt; and I remember that at supper Laurenberg knocked over the -salt-cellar, and that Macdonald said, 'See, I told you! every thing -shows it!' Next night we were at Mülhausen, making short journeys, you -see; for, after all, our object was to enjoy, not to tire ourselves. -Mülhausen is a very prettily situated town, and, though I have never -been there since, I remember it quite well. The next afternoon we got to -a place whose name I forget at this moment. Stay--I think it was -Langensalza; yes, it was Langensalza; and the following day we arrived -in Gotha, and lodged at the sign of the Giant, in the market-place. -Gotha is the chief town in the duchy, and--" - -Here the worthy pastor diverged into a description of Gotha and its -environs. This, however, I lost, for, the interest of the story ceasing, -I went off into a sort of reverie, from which I was awakened only by the -abrupt cessation of the tale, and the words, "Justus, my boy, you are -not asleep, are you? Give me a cigar; my pipe is out again." - -Justus complied, and the old man, leaning his long pipe, with the rich -bowl, against the great plane-tree, received "fire" from his grandson, -lit the Cuba, and, after admonishing the youth to fill our glasses, thus -went on: - -"Our new friends were students from Jena. They were each of a different -country. One was a Frenchman; one a Pole; the third alone was a German. -They were making a sort of pilgrimage to the different places remarkable -for events in the life of Luther--had been at Erfurt, to see his cell in -the orphan-house there, and were now going to Eisenach and the Castle of -Wartburg, to visit the Patmos of 'Junker George.' However, on hearing -that we proposed marching through the Thuringian Forest, they gave up -their original plan, and agreed to join us, which pleased us much, for -all three were fine fellows. That night we got to Ohrdruff, and the next -day we set off for Suhl. But we were not destined ever to reach that -town. About noon, Laurenberg said, 'Come, brothers, do you not find this -road tiresome? This is the way every body goes. Suppose we strike off -the road, and take this footpath through the wood. Is it not a pleasure -to explore an unknown country, and go on without knowing where you will -come to? For my part, I would not have come so far only to follow a -beaten track, where you meet carts and carriages, and men and women, at -every step. If all we wanted was to walk along a road, why, there are -better roads near Göttingen. Into the wood, say I! Why, who knows but -there may be an adventure before us? Follow me!' Macdonald would have -remonstrated, but our new friends, and I also, I am sorry to say, felt -much as Laurenberg did, so we took the footpath, and plunged into the -forest. We soon thought ourselves repaid. The solitude seemed to deepen -as we proceeded. Excepting the almost imperceptible footpath, every -thing bespoke the purest state of nature. The enormous pines that -towered over our heads seemed the growth of ages. Great red deer stared -at us from a distance through the glades, as if they had never before -seen such animals as we, and then bounded away in herds. High up we saw -many bustards--" - -Here my excellent host launched in a current of descriptive landscape, -which, though doubtless very fine, was almost entirely lost to me, for -my thoughts again wandered. From time to time, the words "valleys," -"mountains," "crags," "streamlets," "gloom," "rocks," "Salvator Rosa," -"legends," "wood-nymphs," and the like, fell on my ear, but failed to -recall my attention. And this must have lasted no little time, for I was -at length aroused by his asking for another cigar, the first being done. - -"The glen gradually opened out into a plain," resumed the pastor, "and -our progress became easier. We, however, had no idea where we were, or -which way to turn in order to find a resting-place for the night; we -were completely lost, in short. Nevertheless, we pressed on as fast as -our tired limbs would admit of, and after half an hour's march across -the wooded level, we were rewarded by coming on a sort of road. It was, -indeed, nothing more than the tracks of hoofs upon the turf, but we were -in ecstasies at its appearance. After some deliberation as to whether we -should take to the right or to the left along it, we resolved on -following it to the right. Half an hour more, and we saw before us a -house among the trees. It was a cheerful sight to us, and we gave a -shout of joy. 'I trust they will give us hospitality,' said Richter, the -German from Jena. 'If not,' exclaimed his French friend, 'it is my -opinion that we will take it.' 'What! turn robbers?' said the Pole, -laughing. 'It is a likely looking place for robbers,' remarked -Macdonald, looking rather uneasily round him. We soon reached the house. -It was a long building, with low walls, but a very high thatched roof. -At one end was a kind of round tower, which seemed much older than the -rest of the structure. It might at one time have been much higher than -it then was, but in its actual state it scarcely overtopped the gable -built against it. Fill our glasses, Justus, if you please." - -"Ready, grandfather," said Justus. "But, before you go on, tell us -something of the personal appearance of Laurenberg and Macdonald. As for -the Jena boys, I don't care about them." - -"Laurenberg, Justus, was a tall and very handsome lad. His golden hair -curled over his shoulders, for he wore it very long, and his blue eyes -were like his sister's. Macdonald, again, was rather under the middle -height; his features were dark, and his expression composed, or perhaps, -I should rather say, melancholy. Laurenberg was always gay, vivacious, -and even restless; Macdonald, on the contrary, was usually listless, -almost indolent. But, as you will see, when the time of need came, he -was a man of iron. But where was I? Yes, I remember. Well, we came up to -the door, and knocked at it. It was opened, after a short delay, by a -young girl. The evening shadows were closing in, but, even by the -imperfect light we had, we could see she was very beautiful." - -"Ha! grandfather, come, that is very interesting!" cried Justus. - -"Don't interrupt me, my boy. We could see she was very beautiful. We -asked if we could be accommodated for the night, and she answered very -readily that we could, but that we should have to sleep all in one room, -and that we must be content with a poor supper. 'You will give us the -best you have, at all events,' said Richter; 'we are well able to pay -for it;' and he jingled his money-pouch. 'Oh, that I do not doubt!' said -she, her eyes glistening at the sound; 'but my old grandmother and I -live alone here, so we have not much to offer.' 'You two live alone in -this large house?' said Macdonald, rather harshly. The girl turned her -eyes on him for the first time--Richter had been our spokesman--and she -seemed somewhat confused at the scrutinizing glance she met. 'Yes,' said -she, at last; 'my father, and his father before him, were foresters -here--we were not always so poor--and since their death, we have been -allowed still to occupy the place.' 'I beg your pardon,' said Macdonald, -in a softer tone. 'But why,' resumed he, in a sharp, quick way--'why -must we all sleep in one room?' The girl gave him a keen, inquiring -look, as if to ask what he meant by his questions, and then answered, -firmly, 'Because, sir, besides our own room, we have only one other -furnished. But had you not better walk in? You seem tired, gentlemen; -have you come far?' 'To be sure we have, my pretty girl,' said the -Frenchman; 'and the fact is, we have lost our way. But why do we stand -talking here? Let us go in, my lads.' 'Stay a moment, my friends,' -interposed Macdonald. 'We should perhaps be burdensome to you,' said he, -addressing the girl: 'how far is it to the nearest inn?' 'About two -hours' good walking,' replied she. 'And which is the way?' he asked. -'This bridle-road,' said she, 'will bring you in an hour to a -country-road. By turning to your left, you will then reach Arnstadt in -another.' 'Good,' said Macdonald, 'many thanks. It is my advice, my -friends, that we push on to Arnstadt.' 'What!' cried the Pole, 'two -hours more walking! If we were on horseback it would be different; but -on foot, I will not go another yard;' and, as he spoke, he entered the -house. 'I beg you a thousand pardons, mademoiselle, for keeping you here -so long, and a heavy dew falling, too. Come, let us in at once,' said -the Frenchman, and he followed the Pole. 'It would certainly be far more -comfortable to have good beds at Arnstadt,' said Richter, 'instead of -sleeping six in a room; but I am too tired;' and he, too, went in. -Macdonald cast an imploring look at Laurenberg, who seemed irresolute. -But at the same moment the girl, who had already made a step to follow -our Jena companions into the house, turned slowly round, and, throwing a -bewitching glance at my poor friend, said, in a voice full of -persuasion, 'And you, fair young sir?' At that moment, the moon, which -had risen, passed from behind a cloud, and, throwing her light on the -maiden's features, gave them an almost unearthly beauty. As for -Macdonald, he remained in the shade; but his expressive eye flashed a -look of stern warning such as I had never seen it assume before. I shall -never forget that scene. Laurenberg was between his good and his evil -angel. But so it is ever. Poor humanity is constantly called on to make -the choice; and, alas! how much oftener is the evil preferred than the -good! In this world--" - -But here Justus, who seemed greatly to dread his grandfather's homilies, -and to have an instinctive presentiment of their approach, rose on his -knees to fill our glasses. This done, he exclaimed, "That's a bad cigar, -grandfather. It does not burn even, and, besides, the ash is quite -black: throw it away, and take another." - -The interruption was successful. "Thank you, my boy," said the pastor. -"Don't, however, break in so often on my story. Where was I?" - -"Laurenberg was just about to go into the house with the beautiful -maiden--at least, I suppose so," said Justus. - -"Yes," resumed the old man. "After a moment's hesitation, he took her -hand, which she yielded easily, and they entered together. 'Come,' said -Macdonald to me, with a sigh, 'since it must be so, we must go with -them.' He took my arm, and continued, 'We enter here according to our -degrees of wisdom and folly--the Pole first, you and I last; but who is -to pay for their blindness?' Give me a light, Justus. Is that the same -wine? It seems to me a little hard." - -"It is the same wine," said Justus. "Perhaps you find it hard, because -it is cooler than the first." - -"It may be so. Well, we went in, entering by a passage into a kind of -hall. Here we heard the Frenchman's voice: 'Come along, my beauty, and -show us your wonderful and enchanted chamber, where we are to sleep; for -I suppose it is there we are to sup, too. I have been trying all the -doors, and not one of them will open.' 'This way, gentlemen,' said the -girl, disengaging herself from Laurenberg, and opening one of several -doors which entered off the place we were in. 'That is your grandmother, -I suppose?' said Macdonald, pointing to a figure bending over a small -fire, which was expiring on the hearth. 'Good evening, my good woman; -you seem to feel chilly;' and, as he addressed these latter words to the -crouching creature, he made a step as if he would approach; but the -girl, quickly grasping his arm, whispered in his ear, 'Do not disturb -her. Since my father's death, she scarcely ever speaks to any one but -me. She is very old and feeble. Pray, leave her alone.' Macdonald threw -another of his penetrating glances at the girl, but said nothing, and he -and I followed her along a passage, some twenty paces in length, and -very narrow. At the end of it was another door, and this opened into the -chamber we were to occupy. It was a round room, and we immediately -guessed that it formed the under story of the tower we had remarked. The -girl brought a lamp, and we found that the furniture consisted of a -table and some stools, a large press, a heap of mattresses and bedding, -a few mats of plaited straw, and a pile of fire-wood. The most curious -thing about the place, however, was a strong pole, or rather mast, which -stood in the very centre, and seemed to pass through the roof of the -room. This roof, which was at a considerable distance from the floor, -was formed--a thing I had never seen before--of furze-bushes, supported -upon slender branches of pine, and appeared so rickety as to threaten -every moment to come down about our heads. On questioning the girl, I -was told that the mast supported the outer roof, which was possible -enough. 'In the first place,' said Richter to the damsel, when we had -seated ourselves, and she seemed to wait for our orders, 'is this an -inn, or is it not?' 'You may see, gentlemen,' replied she, 'by the -scantiness of the accommodation, that it is not exactly an inn. -Nevertheless, you can make yourselves at home, as if it was, and -welcome.' 'Good. Then, in the second place, have you any wine?' 'Plenty. -We sell a good deal to the foresters, who pass here often, and so have -always a supply.' 'Where is it?' asked Macdonald. 'Below, in the -cellar.' 'Very well,' returned he. 'I and two more of us will go down -and help you to bring up a dozen bottles or so, if you will show us the -way.' 'Certainly,' said she. While Macdonald and two of the others were -absent with her, I contrived to light a fire, and the Frenchman, on -exploring the press, having found that it contained plates, knives, and -forks, he and the Pole laid the table; so that when the others, laden -with bottles, re-appeared, the place had somewhat of a more cheerful -look. 'They have not had time to drug our wine, at least,' whispered -Macdonald to me. 'Pooh, my friend,' returned I, 'you are far too -suspicious. You will smile to-morrow at having had such ideas.' 'We -shall see,' said he. Presently, the girl brought in some bacon, some -eggs, and a piece of venison. These we cooked ourselves, staying our -appetite, in the mean time, with bread and wine. Then we made a hearty -supper, and became very merry. Richter and the Pole plied the bottle -vigorously, while Laurenberg and the Frenchman vied with each other in -somewhat equivocal gallantries to the damsel. As for Macdonald, he wore -an expression of mingled resignation, vigilance, and resolution, which -made me uncomfortable, I knew not why--" - -"Come, grandfather, don't keep us so long in suspense. Tell us at once -if Macdonald's suspicions were well-founded," exclaimed Justus. "Had you -fallen into a den of thieves, or were you among honest people? Were you -all robbed and murdered before morning, or were you not?" - -"Justus, my boy, you must let me tell my story my own way," said the old -pastor; "and pray don't interrupt me again. Where was I?" - -"At supper grandfather." - -"True. When we had supped, smoked a few pipes, and finished our wine, we -began to make our beds. As we were so occupied, the girl came in and -offered to help us. We readily consented, for we were tired enough. In a -very short time, she had made six beds on the floor. 'Why do you lay -them all with the head to the middle of the room?' asked Macdonald, -observing that all the pillows were ranged round the mast in a circle, -and as near it as possible.--'That is the way I always do,' said she, -with a careless air. But she did not succeed in concealing a certain -strange expression which her features assumed for a moment, and which -both Macdonald and I remarked, without understanding it. We well -understood afterward what it meant. As she was retiring, the Frenchman -and Laurenberg assailed her with some rather too free jokes. She turned, -and cast on them a look of ineffable indignation and scorn; then, -without a word, she passed out at the door, and closed it behind her. We -all admired her for her modesty and virtue. Fill our glasses, Justus. -But appearances are deceitful; this world is but a vain show; all is not -gold that glitters; and--" - -But, a second time, Justus cut short the homily. He dextrously spilt -some of the wine, as he performed his Ganymedian office, and so drew -down on himself a mild sarcasm for his awkwardness. - -Forgetting the sermon he had begun, the old man therefore thus went on: -"All, except Macdonald, were soon in bed. We had, however, only half -undressed. As for Macdonald, he drew a stool toward the fire, and, -seating himself, buried his face in his hands, as if in thought. I -almost immediately fell asleep, and must have slept for some time, for -when I awoke the fire was out. But I did not awaken of myself; it was -Macdonald who aroused me. He did the same to the others. He had thrown -himself on his bed, and spoke in a whisper, which, however, as our heads -were close together, was audible to all. 'Brothers,' said he, 'listen; -but for your lives make no noise, and, above all, do not speak. From the -first moment we arrived at this house, I feared that all was not right; -now I am sure of it. It seemed odd to me that two solitary women should -inhabit so large a house; that the girl should have been so ready, or -rather so anxious to receive us; that she should have shown no fear of -six young men, all strangers to her; and I said to myself, 'She and her -grandmother do not live here alone; she depends upon aid, if aid be -necessary, and that aid is not far off.' Again, I am used to read the -character in the countenance, and, despite her beauty, if ever treachery -was marked on the human face, it is on hers. Then why make us all sleep -in one room? If the others are empty, our beds would be as well on the -floor in them as in this one. However, all that was mere suspicion. But -there is more. You saw me examine the windows during supper. I could -then open the outside shutters; they have since been fastened; and, what -is more, the door is locked or barred on us, and will not yield. But, -what is most important, my ear, which is very quick, caught the sound of -steps in the passage--heavy steps, though taken on tiptoe--steps, in -short, of a man, or rather, I should say of men, for there were at least -two. I stole to the door, and I distinctly heard whisperings. Now, what -do you think of all that? Speak one at a time, and low.'--'Bah!' -whispered the Frenchman, 'I think nothing of it. It is quite common to -fasten the shutters outside; and, as for the door, your friend and I -were rather free with the girl last night, and she may have locked us in -for her own security, or she might be afraid of our decamping in the -morning without paying the reckoning. As for the footsteps, I doubt if -you can distinguish a man's from a woman's; and the whisperings were -probably the girl and the old woman conversing. Their voices, coming -along the passage, would sound like whisperings.' This explanation was -so plausible, that all expressed themselves satisfied with it. But -Macdonald resumed, and this time he spoke in a whisper so terrible--so -full of mysterious power, that it went straight to every heart, and -curdled all our blood. 'Brothers,' he said, 'be wise in time. If you -will not listen to common sense, take warning of a supernatural sense. -Have you never had a dim presentiment of approaching evil? I know you -have. Now, mark. I have at this moment the sure certitude of coming -evil. I know, I _know_, I KNOW, that if you continue to lie here, and -will not listen to my words, neither you nor I will ever see another -sun. I _know_ that we shall all certainly die before the morning. Will -you be advised? If not, your blood be on your own heads! As for mine, I -forgive it you. Decide!--resolve!'--These words, the tones in which they -were uttered, and our knowledge of the speaker, produced a profound -impression. As for me, I shuddered; but it was less at the idea of the -threatened material danger, than at that of an occult influence hovering -round us, inspiring Macdonald, and filling the place with its mysterious -presence. Laurenberg was the first to speak, or rather to whisper. -'Macdonald,' said he, 'I yield myself to your guidance.' I immediately -said, 'And I.' The others followed the example. Macdonald immediately -took the command on himself. 'Rise,' said he, 'but make not the -slightest noise. Collect yourselves and pay attention to the slightest -thing. Leave your shoes; take your swords'--I should tell you, my young -friend," said the pastor, addressing me, "that in those days students -wore swords, especially when they traveled. And they were not such -swords, Justus, as you fight your absurd duels with--not slim things, -that you can bend double, and of which only a foot or so is sharp--not -playthings to scratch each other's faces with; but good steel blades, -meant for thrusting as well as cutting--blades not to be trifled with -when wielded by a skillful and strong arm. But where was I? I remember. -'Take your swords,' said Macdonald. 'As it is so dark, there will -probably be confusion. We must have watchwords, therefore. Let them be -_Jena_ and _Göttingen_. Also, to avoid our blindly encountering each -other, let each of us, if it comes to a fight, keep calling _Burschen! -Burschen!_ I believe the attack I apprehend will come from the door. Let -us range ourselves three on each side of it. We from Göttingen will take -the right side, you from Jena the left. When they open the door, we rush -into the passage. I will lead my file, and do you brother,' said he to -the Frenchman, 'lead yours. When you hear me cry _Burschen!_ follow me, -and, remember, you strike for your lives.' All this was said in the -lowest whisper, but at the same time so distinctly and deliberately, -that we did not lose a word. We took the places assigned us, grasping -our bared swords. For a time--it seemed an interminable time--so we -stood silent, and hearing nothing. Of course, we could not see each -other, for the place was quite dark. At last our excited ears heard -footsteps cautiously approaching. Some one came to the door, and was -evidently listening. In about a minute, we heard the listener whisper to -some one in the passage--'They must all be asleep now. Tell Hans to cut -loose.' Our hearts beat quick. There was a pause of some minutes; then -suddenly we heard overhead a cracking sound among the furze bushes which -composed the roof of the room, and the next instant something fell to -the ground with a crash so tremendous that the whole house seemed to -shake. Then we heard a bolt withdrawn, then a key was turned. The door -began to open. '_Burschen!_' cried Macdonald, as he dashed it wide ajar, -and sprang into the passage. '_Burschen!_' cried the Frenchman, and the -next moment he was by our comrade's side. '_Burschen!_' cried we all, as -we made in after them." - -"_Die Burschen sollen leben!_" (Students forever!) exclaimed Justus, in -a state of no little excitement. - -"The robbers retreated precipitately into the hall, where we had seen -the old woman the previous night. It was brightly illuminated by a large -fire which was blazing on the hearth. Here we fought. '_Burschen!_' -thundered Macdonald, as he struck down a man armed with a hatchet. '_A -bas les voleurs!_' cried the Frenchman, quitting German for his mother -tongue, in the heat of the moment. '_Jena! Göttingen!_' shouted some of -us, forgetting in our excitement that these names were our passwords and -not our war-cry. '_Burschen!_' cried Laurenberg, as he drove into a -corner one of the enemy armed with a dagger and a sword. '_Burschen!_' -cried he again, as he passed his weapon twice through the robber's body. -'_Jena!_' yelled Richter, as his left arm, which he interposed to defend -his head, was broken by a blow with an iron bar. '_And Göttingen!_' -added he with a roar, as he laid his assailant at his feet. Meanwhile -the Pole and I had sustained a fierce attack from three robbers, who, on -hearing the cries and the clashing of arms, had rushed out of one of the -doors opening into the hall. The Pole was already slightly wounded, and -it was going hard with us, when the others came to our assistance. This -decided the fight, and we found ourselves victors." - -"Bravo!" cried Justus, throwing his cap into the air. "That wasn't bad, -grandfather!" and taking the old man's hand, he kissed his cheek. - -"You are a good boy, Justus," said the pastor, "but don't interrupt me. -Where was I? Oh, yes. We had gained the victory, and all the robbers lay -about the floor, killed or wounded. We stood still a moment to take -breath. At this moment, the girl of the previous evening rushed into the -hall, and threw herself on the body of the man who had fallen by the -hand of Laurenberg. She put her hand on his heart, then she approached -her cheek to his mouth. 'He is dead!' cried she, starting to her feet. -'You have killed my Heinrich! my beloved Heinrich! you have killed my -Heinrich! Dead! dead! dead!' Still speaking, she disappeared. But she -returned almost instantly. She had a pistol in each hand. 'It was _you_, -young sir,' said she, calmly and deliberately. 'I saw you,' and, as she -spoke, she covered Laurenberg with her weapon, taking a cool aim. With a -bound, Macdonald threw himself before the victim. But the generous -movement was in vain. She fired; and the bullet, grazing Macdonald's -shoulder, passed through poor Laurenberg's throat, and lodged in a door -behind him. He staggered and fell." - -"Oh, weh!" exclaimed Justus. - -"We all stood thunderstruck. 'Your life for his--and mine,' said the -girl. With these words, she discharged her other pistol into her bosom, -and sank slowly upon the corpse of her lover." - -"What a tragedy!" cried Justus. - -"It was indeed a tragedy," resumed the pastor, in a low voice. "I knelt -down beside my friend, and took his hand. Macdonald raised him up a -little, supporting him in a sitting posture. He said, 'My -pocket-book--the letter--my last wish.' Then he pressed my hand. Then he -said, 'Farewell, comrades--farewell, my brothers. Remember me to my -mother and Anna.' Then he pressed my hand again. And so he died." - -Here the worthy pastor's voice faltered a little, and he paused. Justus -and I were silent. At last the old man began again. "Many, many years -have passed since then, but I have never forgotten my early friend, nor -ceased to mourn him. We laid him gently on his back; I closed his blue -eyes. Macdonald placed his sword upon his gallant breast, now still -forever, and crossed his arms over it. Meanwhile the Frenchman and the -Pole, finding the girl quite dead, had laid her decently by the side of -the man she had called Heinrich. 'That is enough in the mean time,' then -said Macdonald, 'the living before the dead. We must see to our own -safety first, and attend to the wounded.' We accordingly went over the -house, and satisfied ourselves that no one else was concealed in it; we -examined the fastenings of all the doors and windows, to guard against -an attack from any members of the gang who might be outside. We found a -considerable quantity of arms and ammunition, and congratulated -ourselves on having surprised our enemies, as otherwise we might have -been shot down like dogs. Returning to the door where we had supped, we -found that the thing which had fallen from the roof, with such a crash, -was an enormous ring or circle of iron, bigger than a cart-wheel. It was -lying on our beds, the mast being exactly in the centre of it, and -serving, as we found, to sustain it when it was hoisted up. Had we not -obeyed Macdonald's voice, we certainly should all have been crushed to -death, as it was plain many a victim had already been, for the infernal -thing was stained with blood, and in some places, patches of hair were -still sticking to it." - -"And the old woman? the old grandmother?" asked Justus. - -"We found her clothes, but not herself. Hence, we guessed that some one -of the gang had personated the character, and Macdonald reminded us how -the girl had prevented his approaching her supposed relative, and how he -had got no answer to his address, the man in disguise being probably -afraid that his voice might betray him. On examining the field of -battle, we found that the robbers were nine in number, and that two -besides Heinrich were dead. We bound the wounds of the others as well -as we could. They were all sturdy fellows, and, when we considered their -superior strength and numbers, we wondered at our own success. It was to -be attributed solely--of course, I mean humanly speaking--to our attack -being so unexpected, sudden, and impetuous. Indeed the combat did not -last five minutes, if nearly so long. On our side, there was the -irreparable loss of Laurenberg. Richter's broken arm gave him much pain, -and the Pole had lost a considerable quantity of blood; but, besides -this, we had only a few scratches. 'Now, lie down and rest,' said -Macdonald, 'for you have all need of it. As for me, I can not sleep, and -so will keep watch till morning.' We did as he recommended, for in -truth, now that the excitement was over, I could scarcely keep my eyes -open, and the rest were like me. Even Richter slept. Give us some wine, -Justus, my boy." - -"He was a fine fellow that Macdonald," said Justus, as he obeyed. - -"It was several hours before he awakened us," continued the pastor. "My -first thoughts were of poor Laurenberg. I remembered what he said about -a pocket-book. I searched his dress, and found it. What it contained, I -shall tell you presently. We breakfasted on some bread and wine, and -then Macdonald called a council of war. After putting a negative on the -absurd proposal of the Pole, that we should set fire to the house, and -to the stupid suggestion of Richter (he was in a state of fever from his -hurt) that, before doing any thing else, we should empty the cellar, we -unanimously agreed that our first step should be to give information to -the proper authorities of all that had happened. The Frenchman and I -were deputed to go and seek them out. 'You remember what the girl said -about the way to Arnstadt?' said Macdonald. 'I think you may so far rely -on it; but you must trust a good deal to your own judgment to find your -way.' With this piece of advice, we started." - -The journey to Arnstadt, the interview with the bürgermeister, the -reference to the rural amptman, the expedition of that functionary to -the scene of the tragedy, the imprisonment of the surviving robbers, -their trial, confession, and punishment, were all minutely dwelt upon by -the worthy but somewhat diffuse narrator; none of these circumstances, -however, interested me, and I took little note of them. At last, the -pastor returned to personages more attractive of attention. - -"We buried Laurenberg by night," said he. "There chanced to be some -students from other universities in the neighborhood of Arnstadt, and -they joined us in paying him all due honor. We followed the coffin, on -which lay his sword and cap, walking two-and-two, and each bearing a -torch. When the body was lowered into the grave, we quenched the -torches, and sung a Latin dirge. Such was the end of my friend." - -"And the pocket-book?" asked Justus. - -"It contained a letter to me, a very curious letter. It was dated -Gotha, and bore, in substance, that Macdonald's presentiments were -weighing on the mind of the writer, more than he was willing should be -known until _after_ the anticipated catastrophe, if, indeed, any should -take place. But, that such a thing being _possible_, he took that -opportunity of recommending his mother and sister to my care, and of -expressing his hope that I should find I could love Anna, and that so I -would one day make her my wife. I need not relate to you how I performed -the sad duty of bearing the news of his death to his two dear relatives. -As you know, Justus, Anna in about three years afterward became mine. -And here, in this house, young stranger, we lived very happily for -thirty years. Here, too, she died. And yonder, in the church-yard, near -the west porch, she awaits being rejoined by her own--by her children, -and her husband." - -We were all silent for some time. At length Justus, whose emotions were -yet as summer clouds, inquired of his grandfather, "And your other -comrades in the Thuringian Forest affair?" - -"Of the Jena students I heard no more till many years afterward. It was -in November, 1813; Napoleon was retreating from the nation-fight at -Leipsic. The battle of Hanau, too, had been fought. A wounded French -officer asked hospitality of me here. Of course, I granted it, and he -remained more than two months with me; for, though not for several days -after his arrival, I discovered that he was the French student who, with -Richter and the Pole, had joined our party at Gotha. He had returned to -France about a year after our fatal adventure, had entered the army, and -had been fighting almost ever since. When he left me, he was sent to -Mainz, a prisoner on parole; but, at the Restoration in his own country, -he was allowed to return. On the return of Napoleon from Elba, he -however once more took up arms for his old master, and, with the many -other victims of one man's ambition, and the, alas! too prevalent thirst -for military glory common among his countrymen, he was killed at -Waterloo. When will such things cease? When--" - -"And Richter?" asked Justus, nipping in the bud the dreaded moralizing. - -"Richter was killed in a duel--" - -"And Macdonald?" - -"Don't interrupt me, my boy; fill our glasses instead. Richter was -killed in a duel; so the Frenchman told me. I also heard of the fate of -the Pole through him. It was a strange and melancholy one. He, too, had -gone to France, and entered the army, serving zealously and with -distinction. In 1807, being then with the division that was advancing on -the Vistula, he obtained leave to visit his father, whom he had not seen -for years, but whom he hoped to find in the paternal mansion, situated -in a wild part of the country, but not very far from the route which his -corps was taking. He was, however, surprised by the night, as he was -still riding through a forest of firs which seemed interminable. He -therefore put up at a small roadside inn, which presented itself just -as he reached the limits of the wood. Here the Frenchman's account of -the matter became rather obscure, indeed, his friend the Pole had never -told him very exactly all the circumstances. Suffice it that there were -two ladies in the inn--a mother and daughter--two Polish ladies, who -were hurrying to meet the husband of one of them, a colonel in Jerome -Bonaparte's army. They were in a great state of alarm, the conduct of -the people about the place having roused their suspicions. At their -request, the Pole took up his quarters in a room from which their -chamber entered, so that no one could reach them without passing by him. -The room he thus occupied was on the first floor, and at the top of a -staircase, from which access was obtained by a trap-door. This trap the -officer shut, and fastened by a wooden bolt belonging to it. Then, -telling the ladies to fear nothing, he placed his sword and pistols on a -table beside him, and resolved to keep good watch. About midnight, he -heard steps on the staircase. No answer was returned to the challenge he -immediately made; on the contrary, some one tried to force the trap. The -officer observing a hole two or three inches square in it, passed the -muzzle of one of his pistols through it, and fired. There was the sound -of a body rolling down the staircase. But the attempt was soon after -renewed; this time, however, differently. A hand appeared through the -hole, and grasped the bolt. The bolt was even half withdrawn, when the -Pole, at a single blow, severed the hand from the body it belonged to. -There followed groans and horrid imprecations; but nothing more took -place that night. In the morning, a squadron of French cavalry arrived, -and the ladies were placed in safety. Not a single person was found in -the inn. The officer continued his way to his father's house. One thing, -however, had much struck him; the hand he had cut off was very small, -delicate, and white; moreover, one of the fingers wore a ring of -considerable value. This ring he took possession of, with a strange, -uncomfortable feeling of coming evil, which increased as he went on. -Arrived at his father's house, he was told that his parent was ill, and -in bed. He was, however, soon introduced to his presence. The old man -was evidently suffering great pain; but he conversed with his son for -some time, with tolerable composure. Suddenly, however, by a convulsive -movement, he threw off the bedclothes, and the officer, to his horror, -saw that his father's right hand was wanting. 'It was then you! and this -is your ring!' he cried, in an agony of conflicting passions, as, -throwing the jewel on the floor, he rushed out of the house, mounted his -horse, and rode off at full speed. A few weeks afterward, he sought and -found his death amid the bloody snows of Prussian Eylau." - -"Poor fellow!" said Justus. "And Macdonald?" - -"Of Macdonald's fate," said the pastor, gravely, "I know nothing. When I -returned to Göttingen, after visiting Anna and her mother, he was gone. -He had left his rooms the previous day with a stranger, an elderly man, -dressed in gray. And he never returned. I made every inquiry all round -Göttingen, but could get no tidings of him, no one on any road had seen -him or his companion pass. In short, I never saw or heard any thing more -of him. His books and things were sold some two or three months after; I -bought every thing I thought he cared for, in order some day to restore -them to him. But he has never appeared to claim them, and so I have them -still. His sword hangs between Laurenberg's and mine, in my study. But -come, the dew is falling, let us go in. Justus, my boy, be kind enough -to carry in my chair for me. Trinchen will come out for the rest of the -things." - -So ended the worthy pastor's story. - - - - -THE COUNTESS--A TALE OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. - -BY PERCY B. ST. JOHN. - - -The Citizen Aristides Godard was the very beau ideal of a republican -patriot during the early times of the Terror. During the day, the -Citizen Godard sold cloth to his brother and sister democrats, and -talked politics by the yard all the while. He was of the old -school--hated an aristocrat and a poet with an intensity which -degenerated into the comic, and never once missed a feast of reason, or -any other solemnity of those days. Enter his shop to purchase a few -yards of cloth, and he would eagerly ask you for the latest news, -discuss the debate of the previous night in the Convention, and invite -you to his club. His club! for it was here the Citoyen Godard was great. -The worthy clothier could scarcely read, but he could talk, and better -still, he could perorate with remarkable emphasis and power, knew by -heart all the peculiar phrases of the day, and even descended to the -slang of political life. - -The Citoyen Godard was a widower, with an only son, who having inherited -a small fortune from his mother, had abandoned trade, and given up his -whole time to the affairs of the nation. Paul Godard was a young man, of -handsome form and mien, of much talent, full of sincerity and -enthusiasm; and with these characteristics was, though not more than -four-and-twenty, president and captain of his section, where he was -distinguished for his eloquence, energy, and civism. Sincerely attached -to the new ideas of the hour, he, however, had none of the violence of a -party man; and though some very exaggerated patriots considered him -lukewarm, the majority were of a very different opinion. - -It was eight o'clock on one gloomy evening in winter, when the Citizen -Godard entered the old convent, where sat the Jacobin Club. The hall -was, as usual, very full. The locality contained nearly fourteen hundred -men, seated upon benches placed across the room, in all the strange and -varied costumes of the time. Red caps covered many heads, while -tricolored vests and pantaloons were common. The chief characteristic -was poverty of garb, some of the richest present wearing wooden shoes, -and using a bit of cord for strings and buttons. The worst dressed were, -of course, the men who assumed the character of Jacobins as a disguise. - -One of these was speaking when Godard entered, and though there was -serious business before the club, was wasting its time in denouncing -some fabulous aristocratic conspiracy. Godard, who was late, had to take -his place in the corner, where the faint glimmer of the taller candles -scarcely reached him. Still, from the profound silence which as usual -prevailed, he could hear every word uttered by the orator. The Jacobins, -except when there was a plot to stifle an unpopular speaker, listened -attentively to all. The eloquent rhetorician, and the unlettered -stammerer, were equally attended to--the matter, not the manner, being -cared for. - -The orator who occupied the tribune was young. His face was covered with -a mass of beard, while his uncombed hair, coarse garments, dirty hands, -and a club of vast dimensions, showed him to be a politician by -profession. His language was choice and eloquent, though he strove to -use the lowest slang of the day. - -"Word of a patriot!" said the Citoyen Godard, after eying the speaker -suspiciously for some time. "I know that voice. He is fitter for the -_Piscine des Carmagnoles_[26] than for the tribune." - -"Who is the particular?" asked a friend of the clothier, who stood by. - -"It is the Citizen Gracchus Bastide," said a third, in a soft and shrill -tone, preventing the reply of Godard; and then the speaker bent low, and -added--"Citoyen Godard, you are a father and a good man. I am Helene de -Clery; the orator is my cousin. Do not betray him!" - -The Citoyen Godard looked wildly at the speaker, and then drew the young -woman aside. Her garb was that of a man. A red cap confined her -luxuriant hair; a full coat, loose tricolored pantaloons, and a sword -and brace of pistols completed her attire. - -"_Citoyenne!_" said the revolutionary clothier, drily, "thou art an -aristocrat. I should denounce thee!" - -"But thou wilt not?" replied the young woman, with a winning smile, "nor -my cousin, though playing so foolish, so unworthy a part." - -"Oh!" said Godard, "thou ownest this, then?" - -"Papa Godard," answered the young countess, in a low, imploring tone, -"my father was once thy best customer, and thou hadst never reason to -complain of him. He was a good man. For his and for my sake, spare my -cousin, led away by bad counsels and by fatal ambition." - -"I will spare him," said the clothier, moving away, "but let him take -the warning I shall give him." - -The clothier had noticed that the Citoyen Gracchus Bastide was about to -finish, and he hurried to ask a hearing, which was instantly granted -him. The Citoyen Godard was not an orator, and, as is the case under -such circumstances, his head, arms, and feet were more active than his -tongue. Ascending the tribune, he struck the desk three times with his -feet, while his eyes seemed ready to start out of his head, at the same -time that his lips moved inarticulately. At length, however, he spoke: - -"The truths spoken by the citizen who preceded me are truths of which -every man is fully aware, and I am not here in consequence to reiterate -them. The friends of the defunct Louis Capet are conspiring in the midst -of us every day. But the citoyen _preopinant_ forgot to say, that they -come to our very forum--that they dress like true patriots--that they -take names which belong rightly only to the faithful--and denounce often -true men to cheat us. Many a Gracchus hides a marquis--many a _bonnet -rouge_ a powdered crown! I move the order of the day." - -The citizen Gracchus Bastide had no sooner caught sight of Godard -advancing toward the tribune, than he hurried toward the door, and ere -the conclusion of the other's brief oration, had vanished. Godard's -object gained, he descended from the forum, and gave way to a speaker -big with one of those propositions which were orders to the Legislature, -and which swayed the fate of millions at that eventful period. - -Godard reassumed his former post, which he patiently kept until a late -hour, when the sitting being terminated, after speeches from Danton, -Robespierre, and Camille Desmoulins, he sallied forth into the open air. - -It was eleven o'clock, and the streets of Paris were dark and gloomy. -The order for none to be out after ten, without a _carte de civisme_, -was in force, and few were inclined to disobey it. At that time, Paris -went to bed almost at night-fall, with the exception of those who did -the government business of the hour, and they never rested. Patriots, -bands of armed men guarding prisoners, volunteers returning from -festivals, the chiefs of different parties sitting in committees, the -orators writing their speeches for next day, the sections organizing -public demonstrations--such was the picture of this great town by night. -Dawn was the most unwelcome of times, for then the statesman had to -renew his struggle for existence, the accused had to defend himself, the -suspected began again to watch the hours as they flew, and the terrific -machine that depopulated the earth was at work--horrid relic of -ignorance and barbarism, that killed instead of converting. - -Father Godard had scarcely left the Jacobins, when from a narrow passage -darted a slight figure, which he instantly recognized as that of Helene -de Clery. The young girl caught hold of his arm and began speaking with -extreme volubility, she said that her father had been dead six months, -leaving her and a hot-headed cousin alone in the world. This young man -embraced with fiery zeal the cause of the exiled royal family, and had -already twice narrowly escaped--once on the occasion of the king's -execution, and on that of the queen's. Every royalist conspiracy, every -movement for insurrection against the Committee of Public Safety, found -him mixed up in it. For some time they had been able to exist on what -remained of her father's money, but now their resources were utterly -exhausted. It was only by the charity of royalist friends that she -starved not, and to obtain even this she had to disguise herself, and -act with her party. But Helene said, that she had no political instinct. -She loved her country, but she could not join with one party against -another. - -"Give me some work to do--show me how to earn a livelihood, with my -fingers, Father Godard, and I will bless you." - -"No person shall ask me how to be a good citizen in vain. Citoyenne -Helene, thou art under my protection. My wife is dead: wilt thou be too -proud to take charge of my household?" - -"Surely too grateful." - -"And thy cousin?" - -"Heaven have mercy on him. He will hear no reason. I have begged and -implored him to leave the dark road of conspiracy, and to seek to serve -his country, but in vain. Nothing will move him." - -"Let the wild colt have his course," replied Godard, adding rather -coarsely, "he will end by sneezing in Samson's sack." - -Helene shuddered, but made no reply, clinging firmly to the old -_sans-culotte's_ arm as he led her through the deserted streets. - -It was midnight when the residence of the clothier was reached. It was -in a narrow street running out of the Rue St. Honore. There was no -coach-door, and Godard opened with a huge key that hung suspended at his -girdle. Scarcely had the old man inserted the key in the key-hole when a -figure darted forth from a guard-house close at hand. - -"I thought I should find the old Jacobin," said a merry, hearty voice; -"he never misses his club. I am on duty to-night in the neighborhood, -and, says I, let us see the father, and get a crust out of him." - -"Paul, my boy, thou art a good son, and I am glad to see thee. Come in: -I want to talk seriously to thee." - -The clothier entered, Helene followed him closely, and Paul closed the -door. A lantern burned in the passage, by which some candles were soon -lit in the cosy back sitting-room of the old _sans-culotte_. Paul looked -curiously at the stranger, and was about to let a very impertinent grin -cross his face, when his father taking off his red cap, spoke with some -emotion, laying aside, under the impression of deep feeling, all his -slang. - -"My son, you have heard me speak often of my benefactor and friend, the -Count de Clery, who for some trifling service, rendered when a lad, gave -me the means of starting in life. This is his daughter and only child. -My boy, we know how terrible are the days. The daughter of the royalist -Count de Clery is fated to die if discovered. We must save her." - -Paul, who was tall, handsome, and intellectual in countenance, bowed low -to the agitated girl. He said little, but what he said was warm and to -the point. Helene thanked both with tears in her eyes, begging them also -to look to her cousin. Paul turned to his father for an explanation, -which Papa Godard gave. - -"Let him beware," said Paul, drily. "He is a spy, and merits death. Ah! -ah! what noise is that?" - -"Captain," cried half a dozen voices in the street, "thou art wanted. We -have caught a suspicious character." - -"'Tis perhaps Albert, who has followed me," cried Helene. "He thinks I -would betray him." - -Paul rushed to the door. Half a dozen national guards were holding a -man. It was Citizen Gracchus Bastide. Paul learned that no sooner had he -entered the house, than this man crept up to the door, listened -attentively, and stamped his feet as if in a passion. Looking on this as -suspicious, the patriots had rushed out and seized him. - -"Captain," cried the Citizen Gracchus, "what is the meaning of this? I -am a Jacobin, and a known patriot." - -"Hum!" said Paul, "let me look at thee. Ah! pardon, citizen, I recognize -thee now; but why didst thou not knock? We wait supper for thee. Come -in. Bravo, my lads, be always on the alert. I will join you soon." - -And pushing the other into the passage, he led him without another word -into the parlor. For an instant all remained silent. Paul then spoke: - -"Thou art a spy and a traitor, and as such worthy of death. Not content -with foreign armies and French traitors on the frontiers, we must have -them here in Paris. Albert de Clery, thou hast thy choice--the -guillotine, or a voluntary enrollment in the army. Go forth, without -regard to party, and fight the enemies of thy country, and in one year -thou shalt find a cousin, a friend, and, I suppose, a wife." - -Godard, Helene, Paul, all spoke in turns. They joined in regretting the -misery of Frenchmen fighting against Frenchmen. They pointed out that, -no matter what was its form of government, France was still France. -Albert resisted for some time, but at last the strong man yielded. The -four men then supped in common, and the young royalist, as well as the -republican, found that men may differ in politics, and yet not be -obliged to cut each other's throats. They found ample subjects for -agreement in other things. Before morning, Albert, led away by the -eloquence of young Paul, voluntarily pledged himself not to fight -against France. Next day he took service, and, after a tearful adieu, -departed. He went with a ragged band of raw recruits to fight the -battles of his country, a little bewildered at his new position; but not -unconvinced that he was acting more wisely than in fomenting the evil -passions of the hour. - -Immediately after the leave-taking, Helene commenced her new existence -in plain and ordinary garb, taking her post as the old clothier's -housekeeper. An old woman was cook and housemaid, and with her aid -Helene got on comfortably. The warm-hearted _sans-culotte_ found, in -additional comfort, and in her society, ample compensation for his -hospitality. Helene, by gentle violence, brought him to the use of clean -linen, which, like Marat, and other semi-insane individuals, Godard had -originally affected to reject, as a sign of inferior civism. He became, -too, more humanely disposed in general to his enemies, and, ere three -months, ardently longed for the end of the awful struggle which was -desolating the land. Aristides Godard felt the humanizing influence of -woman, the best attribute of civilization--an influence which, when men -can not feel it, they at once stamp their own character. - -Paul became an assiduous visitor at his father's house. He brought the -fair countess news from the army, flowers, books, and sometimes letters -from cousin Albert. They soon found much mutual pleasure in each other's -society, but Paul never attempted to offer serious court to the -affianced wife of the young Count de Clery. Paul was of a remarkably -honorable character. Of an ardent and passionate temperament, he had -imbibed from his mother a set of principles which were his guide through -life. He saw this young girl, taken away from the class in which she was -brought up, deprived of the pleasures of her age and rank, and compelled -to earn her living, and he did his utmost to make her time pass -pleasantly. Helene was but eighteen, and the heart at this age, knows -how to bound away from sorrow, as from a precipice, when a better -prospect offers; and Helene, deeply grateful at the attention paid her, -both by father and son, soon became reconciled to her new mode of -existence, and then quite happy. Paul devoted every spare hour to her, -and as he had read, thought, and studied, the once spoiled child of -fortune found much advantage in his society. - -At the end of three months, Albert ceased to write, and his friend -became anxious. Inquiries were made, which proved that he was alive and -well, and then they ceased to hear of him. A year passed, two years, and -calmer days came round, but no tidings reached of the absent one. Helene -was deeply anxious--her cheeks grew pale--she became thin. Paul did all -he could to rouse her. He took her out, he showed her all the amusements -and gayeties of Paris, but nothing seemed to have any effect. The poor -fellow was in despair, as he was deeply attached to the orphan girl. -Once a week, at least, he pestered the war office with inquiries about -Bastide, the name under which the cousin had enrolled himself. - -Father Godard, when the days of the club were over, doubly grateful for -the good deed he had done, and which had its full reward, retired from -business, took a simple lodging in a more lively quarter, and found in -Helene a dutiful and attached daughter. For a wonder, there was a garden -attached to the house, and here the retired tradesman, on a summer's -evening, would smoke his pipe and take his coffee, while Paul and Helene -strolled about the alleys or chatted by his side. - -One evening in June--one of those lovely evenings which makes Paris half -Italian in look, when the boulevards are crowded with walkers, when -thousands crowd open-air concerts, and all is warm, and balmy, and -fragrant, despite a little dust--the trio were collected. Father Godard -was smoking his second pipe, Helene was sipping some sugar and water, -and Paul, seated close by her side, was thinking. The young man's face -was pale, while his eyes were fixed on Helene with a half-melancholy, -half-passionate expression. There was a world of meaning in that look, -and Paul perhaps felt that he was yielding to an unjustifiable emotion, -for he started. - -"A flower for your thoughts, Paul," said Helene, quietly. - -"My thoughts," replied Paul, with rather a forced laugh, "are not worth -a flower." - -Helene seemed struck by the tone, and she bowed her head and blushed. - -"Helene," said Paul, in a low, hushed, and almost choking tone, "this -has been too much; the cup has at last overflowed. I was wrong, I was -very wrong to be near you so much, and it has ended as I should have -expected. I love you, Helene! I feel it, and I must away and see you no -more. I have acted unwisely--I have acted improperly." - -"And why should you not love me, Paul?" replied Helene, with a great -effort, but so faintly none else but a lover could have heard. - -"Are you not Albert's affianced wife?" continued Paul, gravely. - -"At last I can explain that which fear of being mistaken has made me -never say before. I and Albert were never affianced, never could be, for -I could not love him." - -"Helene! Helene!" cried Paul, passionately, "why spoke you not two years -ago? I said he should find his cousin, his friend, and his affianced -wife when he came back, and I must keep my word." - -"True, true--but Paul, he could not have heard you. But you are -right--you are right." - -"Let me know all," said the young man, moodily, "but for this -unfortunate accident." - -"Paul, you have been to me more than a brother and I will be just toward -you. Influenced by this mistake you clearly did not care more for me -than a friend, and what else has made me ill, and pale, and gloomy but -shame, because--" - -"Because what?" asked the young man, eagerly. - -"Because, under the circumstances in which I was placed, I had let my -heart lean where it could find no support." - -No man could hear such a confession unmoved, and Paul was half wild with -delight; but he soon checked himself, and, gravely rising, took Helene's -hand respectfully. - -"But I have been wrong to ask you this until Albert gives me back my -word." - -At this instant a heavy step was heard, the clanking of spurs and arms -on the graveled way, and now a tall cavalry officer of rank, preceded by -a woman-servant running, was seen coming toward them. Both trembled--old -Godard was asleep--and stood up, for both recognized Albert de Clery. - -"Ah! ah! my friend," cried the soldier, gayly; "I find you at last, -Helene, my dear cousin. Let me embrace you! Eh! how is it? Still -mademoiselle, or are you madam by this time? Paul, my good friend, give -me your hand again. But come into the house. I have brought my wife to -show you--an Italian, a beauty, and an heiress. How do you do, Papa -Godard?" - -"Hum--ah! I was asleep. Ah! Citizen Gracchus--Monsieur Albert, I -mean--glad to see you." - -"Guide me to the house," continued the soldier, "my wife is impatient to -see you. Give me your arm, Papa Godard; follow, cousin, and let us talk -of old times." - -One look, one pressure of the hand, and arm-in-arm they followed, happy -in reality for the first time for two years. - -Madame de Clery was indeed a fascinating and beautiful Italian, and upon -her Albert laid the blame of his not writing. He had distinguished -himself greatly, and, remarked by his officers, had risen with -surprising rapidity to the rank of lieutenant-colonel. On the Rhine, he -was one day located in the house of a German baron, with two handsome -daughters. An Italian girl, an heiress, a relation by marriage, was -there, and an attachment sprung up between the young people. The -difficulties in the way of marriage were many; but it is an old story, -how love delights in vanquishing them. Antonia contrived to enter France -under a safe conduct, and then was married. Albert had obtained a -month's leave of absence. He thought at once of those who had paved the -way for his success. - -Godard, who had seen something of what had been going on, frankly -explained why Helene was still unmarried. Albert turned round, and shook -Paul by the hand. - -"My dear friend, I scarcely heard your sentence. But you are a noble -fellow. I shall not leave Paris until you are my cousin." - -This sentence completed the general delight. The meeting became doubly -interesting to all, and ere ten days the wedding took place, Albert -carrying every thing with a high hand, as became a gallant soldier. He -did more. He introduced Paul to influential members of the government, -and obtained for him an excellent position, one that gave him an -occupation, and the prospect of serving his country. Old Godard was -delighted, but far more so when some years after, in a garden near -Paris, he scrambled about with the children of Madame Paul and Madame de -Clery, who resided with the first, her husband being generally on -service. Paul and his wife were very happy. They had seen adversity, and -been chastened by it. Helene doubly loved her husband, from his nobility -of character in respecting her supposed affianced state; and never once -did the descendant of the "ancient and noble" House of Clery regret that -in finding that great and sterling treasure, a good husband, she had -lost the vain and empty satisfaction of being called Madame "the -Countess." - - - FOOTNOTE: - - [26] Another slang word for the guillotine. - - - - -[From Bentley's Miscellany.] - -A MIDNIGHT DRIVE.--A TALE OF TERROR. - - -I was sitting one night in the general coach-office in the town of ----, -reflecting upon the mutability of human affairs, and taking a -retrospective glance at those times when I held a very different -position in the world, when one of the porters of the establishment -entered the office, and informed the clerk that the coach, which had -long been expected, was in sight, and would be at the inn in a few -minutes. I believe it was the old Highflyer, but at this distance of -time I can not speak with sufficient certainty. The strange story I am -about to relate, occurred when stage-coaches were the usual mode of -conveyance, and long before any more expeditious system of traveling had -engaged the attention of mankind. - -I continued to sit by the fire till the coach arrived, and then walked -into the street to count the number of the passengers, and observe their -appearance. I was particularly struck with the appearance of one -gentleman, who had ridden as an inside passenger. He wore a large black -cloak, deeply trimmed with crape; his head was covered with a black -traveling-cap, surmounted with two or three crape rosettes, and from -which depended a long black tassel. The cap was drawn so far over his -eyes that he had some difficulty to see his way. A black scarf was -wrapped round the lower part of his face, so that his countenance was -completely concealed from my view. He appeared anxious to avoid -observation, and hurried into the inn as fast as he could. I returned to -the office and mentioned to the clerk the strange appearance of the -gentlemen in question, but he was too busy to pay any attention to what -I had said. - -Presently afterward a porter brought a small carpet-bag into the office, -and placed it upon the table. - -"Whose bag is that, Timms?" inquired the clerk. - -"I don't wish to be personal," replied the man, "but I think it belongs -to ----," and the fellow pointed to the floor. - -"You don't mean _him_, surely?" said the clerk. - -"Yes, I do though; at any rate, if he is not the gentleman I take him -for, he must be a second cousin of his, for he is the most unaccountable -individual that ever I clapped my eyes on. There is not much good in -him, I'll be bound." - -I listened with breathless anxiety to these words. When the man had -finished, I said to him, - -"How was the gentleman dressed?" - -"In black." - -"Had he a cloak on?" - -"Yes." - -"A traveling-cap drawn over his eyes?" - -"Yes." - -"It's the man I saw descend from the coach," I said to the clerk. - -"Where is he?" inquired that gentleman. - -"In the inn," replied the porter. - -"Is he going to stay all night?" I inquired. - -"I don't know." - -"It's very odd," observed the clerk, and he put his pen behind his ear, -and placed himself in front of the fire; "very odd," he repeated. - -"It don't look well," said the porter; "not at all." - -Some further conversation ensued upon the subject, but as it did not -tend to throw any light upon the personage in question, it is -unnecessary for me to relate it. - -Awhile afterward, the clerk went into the hotel to learn, if possible, -something more relative to this singular visitor. He was not absent more -than a few minutes, and when he returned his countenance, I fancied, was -more sedate than usual. I asked him if he had gathered any further -information. - -"There is nobody knows any thing concerning him," he replied; "for when -the servants enter the room, he always turns his back toward them. He -has not spoken to a single individual since he arrived. There is a man -who came by the same coach, who attends upon him, but he does not look -like a servant." - -"There is something extraordinary in his history, or I am much -deceived." - -"I am quite of your opinion," observed the clerk. - -While we were conversing, some persons entered the office to take places -by the mail, which was to leave early on the following morning. I -hereupon departed, and entered the inn with the view of satisfying my -curiosity, if possible, which was now raised to the utmost pitch. The -servants, I remarked, moved about more silently than usual, and -sometimes I saw two or three of them conversing together, _sotto voce_, -as though they did not wish their conversation to be overheard by those -around them. I knew the room that the gentleman occupied, and -stealthily and unobserved stole up to it, hoping to hear or see -something that might throw some light upon his character. I was not, -however, gratified in either respect. - -I hastened back to the office and resumed my seat by the fire. The clerk -and I were still conversing upon the subject, when one of the girls came -in, and informed me that I was to get a horse and gig ready immediately, -to drive a gentleman a distance of fifteen or twenty miles. - -"To-night!" I said in surprise. - -"Immediately!" - -"Why, it's already ten o'clock!" - -"It's the master's orders; I can not alter them," tartly replied the -girl. - -This unwelcome intelligence caused me to commit a great deal of sin, for -I made use of a number of imprecations and expressions which were quite -superfluous and perfectly unavailing. It was not long before I was ready -to commence the journey. I chose the fastest and strongest animal in the -establishment, and one that had never failed me in an emergency. I lit -the lamps, for the night was intensely dark, and I felt convinced that -we should require them. The proprietor of the hotel gave me a paper, but -told me not to read it till we had proceeded a few miles on the road, -and informed me at the same time in what direction to drive. The paper, -he added, would give me further instructions. - -I was seated in the vehicle, busily engaged in fastening the leathern -apron on the side on which I sat, in order to protect my limbs from the -cold, when somebody seated himself beside me. I heard the landlord cry, -"Drive on;" and, without looking round, I lashed the mare into a very -fast trot. Even now, while I write, I feel in some degree the -trepidation which stole over me when I discovered who my companion was. -I had not gone far before I was made acquainted with this astounding -fact. It was as though an electric shock had suddenly and unexpectedly -been imparted to my frame, or as, in a moment of perfect happiness, I -had been hastily plunged into the greatest danger and distress. A -benumbing chilliness ran through me, and my mouth all at once became dry -and parched. Whither was I to drive? I knew not. Who and what was my -companion? I was equally ignorant. It was the man dressed so -fantastically whom I had seen alight from the coach; whose appearance -and inexplicable conduct had alarmed a whole establishment, whose -character was a matter of speculation to every body with whom he had -come in contact. This was the substance of my knowledge. For aught I -knew, he might be--. But no matter. The question that most concerned me -was, how was I to extricate myself from this dilemma? Which was the best -course to adopt? To turn back, and declare I would not travel in such a -night, with so strange a person, or to proceed on my journey? I greatly -feared the consequences of the former step would be fatal to my own -interests. Besides, I should be exposed to the sneers and laughter of -all who knew me. No: I had started, and I would proceed, whatever might -be the issue of the adventure. - -In a few minutes we had emerged from the town. My courage was now put to -the severest test. The cheerful aspect of the streets, and the light -thrown from the lamps and a few shop-windows, had hitherto buoyed me up, -but my energy and firmness, I felt, were beginning to desert me. The -road on which we had entered was not a great thoroughfare at any time, -but at that late hour of the night I did not expect to meet either -horseman or pedestrian to enliven the long and solitary journey. I cast -my eyes before me, but could not discern a single light burning in the -distance. The night was thick and unwholesome, and not a star was to be -seen in the heavens. There was another matter which caused me great -uneasiness. I was quite unarmed, and unprepared for any attack, should -my companion be disposed to take advantage of that circumstance. These -things flashed across my mind, and made a more forcible impression than -they might otherwise have done, from the fact of a murder having been -committed in the district only a few weeks before, under the most -aggravated circumstances. An hypothesis suggested itself. Was this man -the perpetrator of that deed--the wretch who was endeavoring to escape -from the officers of justice, and who was stigmatized with the foulest, -the blackest crime that man could be guilty of? Appearances were against -him. Why should he invest himself with such a mystery? Why conceal his -face in so unaccountable a manner? What but a man conscious of great -guilt, of the darkest crimes, would so furtively enter an inn, and -afterward steal away under the darkness of the night, when no mortal eye -could behold him? If he was sensible of innocence, he might have -deferred his journey till the morning, and faced, with the fortitude of -a man, the broad light of day, and the scrutiny of his fellow-men. I -say, appearances were against him, and I felt more and more convinced, -that whatever his character was--whatever his deeds might have -been--that the present journey was instigated by fear and apprehension -for his personal safety. But was I to be the instrument of his -deliverance? Was I to be put to all this inconvenience in order to favor -the escape of an assassin? The thought distracted me. I vowed that it -should not be so. My heart chafed and fretted at the task that had been -put upon me. My blood boiled with indignation at the bare idea of being -made the tool of so unhallowed a purpose. I was resolved. I ground my -teeth with rage. I grasped the reins with a tighter hold. I determined -to be rid of the man--nay, even to attempt to destroy him rather than it -should be said that I had assisted in his escape. At some distance -further on there was a river suitable for that purpose. When off his -guard, he could in a moment be pushed into the stream; in certain -places it was sufficiently deep to drown him. One circumstance perplexed -me. If he escaped, he could adduce evidence against me. No matter; it -would be difficult to prove that I had any intention of taking away his -life. But should he be the person I conceived, he would not dare to come -forward. - -Hitherto we had ridden without exchanging a word. Indeed, I had only -once turned my eyes upon him since we started. The truth was, I was too -busy with my own thoughts--too intent upon devising some plan to -liberate myself from my unparalleled situation. I now cast my eyes -furtively toward him. I shuddered as I contemplated his proximation to -myself. I fancied I already felt his contaminating influence. The cap, -as before, was drawn over his face; the scarf muffled closely round his -chin, and only sufficient space allowed for the purpose of respiration. -I was most desirous of knowing who he was; indeed, had he been "the Man -with the Iron Mask," so many years incarcerated in the French Bastile, -he could scarcely have excited a greater curiosity. - -I deemed it prudent to endeavor to draw him into conversation, thinking -that he might drop some expression that would, in some measure, tend to -elucidate his history. Accordingly, I said, - -"It's a very dark, unhealthy night, sir." - -He made no reply. I thought he might not have heard me. - -"A bad night for traveling!" I shouted, in a loud tone of voice. - -The man remained immovable, without in the least deigning to notice my -observation. He either did not wish to talk, or he was deaf. If he -wished to be silent, I was contented to let him remain so. - -It had not occurred to me till now that I had received a paper from the -landlord which would inform me whither my extraordinary companion was to -be conveyed. My heart suddenly received a new impulse--it beat with hope -and expectation. This document might reveal to me something more than I -was led to expect; it might unravel the labyrinth in which I was -entangled, and extricate me from all further difficulty. But how was I -to decipher the writing? There was no other means of doing so than by -stopping the vehicle and alighting, and endeavoring to read it by the -aid of the lamp, which, I feared, would afford but a very imperfect -light, after all. Before I had recourse to this plan, I deemed it -expedient to address once more my taciturn companion. - -"Where am I to drive you to?" I inquired, in so loud a voice that the -mare started off at a brisker pace, as though I had been speaking to -her. I received no reply, and, without further hesitation, I drew in the -reins, pulled the paper from my pocket, and alighted. I walked to the -lamp, and held the paper as near to it as I could. The handwriting was -not very legible, and the light afforded me so weak, that I had great -difficulty to discover its meaning. The words were few and pointed. The -reader will judge of my surprise when I read the following laconic -sentence: "_Drive the gentleman to Grayburn Church-yard!_" I was more -alarmed than ever; my limbs shook violently, and in an instant I felt -the blood fly from my cheeks. What did my employer mean by imposing such -a task upon me? My fortitude in some degree returned, and I walked up to -the mare and patted her on the neck. - -"Poor thing--poor thing!" I said; "you have a long journey before you, -and it may be a dangerous one." - -I looked at my companion, but he appeared to take no notice of my -actions, and seemed as indifferent as if he were a corpse. I again -resumed my seat, and in part consoled myself with the prospect of being -speedily rid of him in some way or other, as the river I have already -alluded to was now only two or three miles distant. My thoughts now -turned to the extraordinary place to which I was to drive--Grayburn -Church-yard! What could the man do there at that hour of the night? Had -he somebody to meet? something to see or obtain? It was -incomprehensible--beyond the possibility of human divination. Was he -insane, or was he bent upon an errand perfectly rational, although for -the present wrapped in the most impenetrable mystery? I am at a loss for -language adequate to convey a proper notion of my feelings on that -occasion. He shall never arrive, I internally ejaculated, at Grayburn -Church-yard; he shall never pass beyond the stream, which even now I -almost heard murmuring in the distance! Heaven forgive me for harboring -such intentions! but when I reflected that I might be assisting an -assassin to fly from justice, I conceived I was acting perfectly correct -in adopting any means (no matter how bad) for the obviation of so horrid -a consummation. For aught I knew, his present intention might be to -visit the grave of his victim, for now I remembered that the person who -had so lately been murdered was interred in this very church-yard. - -We gradually drew nearer to the river. I heard its roaring with fear and -trepidation. It smote my heart with awe when I pondered upon the deed I -had in contemplation. I could discover, from its rushing sound, that it -was much swollen, and this was owing to the recent heavy rains. The -stream in fine weather was seldom more than a couple of feet deep, and -could be crossed without danger or difficulty; there however were places -where it was considerably deeper. On the occasion in question, it was -more dangerous than I had ever known it. There was no bridge constructed -across it at this place, and people were obliged to get through it as -well as they could. Nearer and nearer we approached. The night was so -dark that it was quite impossible to discern any thing. I could feel the -beatings of my heart against my breast, a cold, clammy sweat settled -upon my brow, and my mouth became so dry that I fancied I was choking. -The moment was at hand that was to put my resolution to the test. A few -yards only separated us from the spot that was to terminate my journey, -and, perhaps, the mortal career of my incomprehensible companion. The -light of the lamps threw a dull, lurid gleam upon the surface of the -water. It rushed furiously past, surging and boiling as it leaped over -the rocks that here and there intersected its channel. Without a -moment's hesitation, I urged the mare forward, and in a minute we were -in the midst of the stream. It was a case of life or death! The water -came down like a torrent--its tide was irresistible. There was not a -moment to be lost. My own life was at stake. With the instinctive -feeling of self-preservation, I drove the animal swiftly through the -dense body of water, and in a few seconds we had gained the opposite -bank of the river. We were safe, but the opportunity of ridding myself -of my companion was rendered, by the emergency of the case, unavailable. - -I know not how it was, but I suddenly became actuated by a new impulse. -Wretch though he was, he had intrusted his safety, his life, into my -hands. There was, perhaps, still some good in the man; by enabling him -to escape, I might be the instrument of his eternal salvation. He had -done me no injury, and at some period of his life he might have rendered -good offices to others. I pitied his situation, and determined to render -him what assistance I could. I applied the whip to the mare. In a moment -she seemed to be endowed with supernatural energy and swiftness. Though -he was a murderer--though he was henceforth to be driven from society as -an outcast, he should not be deserted in his present emergency. On, on -we sped; hedges, trees, houses were passed in rapid succession. Nothing -impeded our way. We had a task to perform--a duty to fulfill; dangers -and difficulties fled before us. A human life depended upon our -exertions, and every nerve required to be strained for its preservation. -On, on we hurried. My enthusiasm assumed the appearance of madness. I -shouted to the mare till I was hoarse, and broke the whip in several -places. Although we comparatively flew over the ground, I fancied we did -not go fast enough. My body was in constant motion, as though it would -give an impetus to our movements. My companion appeared conscious of my -intentions, and, for the first time, evinced an interest in our -progress. He drew out his handkerchief, and used it incessantly as an -incentive to swiftness. Onward we fled. We were all actuated by the same -motive. This concentration of energy gave force and vitality to our -actions. - -The night had hitherto been calm, but the rain now began to descend in -torrents, and at intervals we heard distant peals of thunder. Still we -progressed; we were not to be baffled, not to be deterred; we would yet -defy pursuit. Large tracts of country were passed over with amazing -rapidity. Objects, that at one moment were at a great distance, in -another were reached, and in the next left far behind. Thus we sped -forward--thus we seemed to annihilate space altogether. We were endowed -with superhuman energies--hurried on by an impulse, involuntary and -irresistible. My companion became violent, and appeared to think we did -not travel quick enough. He rose once or twice from his seat, and -attempted to take the remnant of the whip from my hand, but I resisted, -and prevailed upon him to remain quiet. - -How long we were occupied in this mad and daring flight, I can not even -conjecture. We reached, at length, our destination; but, alas! we had no -sooner done so, than the invaluable animal that had conveyed us thither -dropped down dead! - -My companion and I alighted. I walked up to where the poor animal lay, -and was busy deploring her fate, when I heard a struggle at a short -distance. I turned quickly round, and beheld the mysterious being with -whom I had ridden so fatal a journey, in the custody of two powerful -looking men. - -"Ha, ha! I thought he would make for this here place," said one of them. -"He still has a hankering after his mother's grave. When he got away -before, we nabbed him here." - -The mystery was soon cleared up. The gentleman had escaped from a -lunatic asylum, and was both deaf and dumb. The death of his mother, a -few years before, had caused the mental aberration. - -The horrors of the night are impressed as vividly upon my memory as -though they had just occurred. The expenses of the journey were all -defrayed, and I was presented with a handsome gratuity. I never ceased, -however, to regret the loss of the favorite mare. - - - - -[From Dickens's Household Words.] - -SPIDER'S SILK. - - -Urged by the increased demand for the threads which the silk-worm -yields, many ingenious men have endeavored to turn the cocoons of other -insects to account. In search of new fibres to weave into garments, men -have dived to the bottom of the sea, to watch the operations of the -pinna and the common mussel. Ingenious experimentalists have endeavored -to adapt the threads which hold the mussel firmly to the rock, to the -purposes of the loom; and the day will probably arrive when the minute -thread of that diminutive insect, known as the money-spinner, will be -reeled, thrown, and woven into fabrics fit for Titania and her court. - -In the early part of last century, an enthusiastic French gentleman -turned his attention to spiders' webs. He discovered that certain -spiders not only erected their webs to trap unsuspecting flies, but that -the females, when they had laid their eggs, forthwith wove a cocoon, of -strong silken threads, about them. These cocoons are known more -familiarly as spiders' bags. The common webs of spiders are too slight -and fragile to be put to any use; but the French experimentalist in -question, Monsieur Bon, was led to believe that the cocoons of the -female spiders were more solidly built than the mere traps of the -ferocious males. Various experiments led M. Bon to adopt the -short-legged silk spider as the most productive kind. Of this species he -made a large collection. He employed a number of persons to go in search -of them; and, as the prisoners were brought to him, one by one, he -inclosed them in separate paper cells, in which he pricked holes to -admit the air. He kept them in close confinement, and he observed that -their imprisonment did not appear to affect their health. None of them, -so far as he could observe, sickened for want of exercise; and, as a -jailer, he appears to have been indefatigable, occupying himself -catching flies, and delivering them over to the tender mercies of his -prisoners. After a protracted confinement in these miniature Bastiles, -the grim M. Bon opened the doors, and found that the majority of his -prisoners had beguiled their time in forming their bags. Spiders exude -their threads from papillæ or nipples, placed at the hinder part of -their body. The thread, when it leaves them, is a glutinous liquid, -which hardens on exposure to the air. It has been found that, by -squeezing a spider, and placing the finger against its papillæ, the -liquid of which the thread or silk is made may be drawn out to a great -length. - -M. Reaumur, the rival experimentalist to M. Bon, discovered that the -papillæ are formed of an immense number of smaller papillæ, from each of -which a minute and distinct thread is spun. He asserted that, with a -microscope, he counted as many as seventy distinct fibres proceeding -from the papillæ of one spider, and that there were many more threads -too minute and numerous to compute. He jumped to a result, however, that -is sufficiently astonishing, namely, that a thousand distinct fibres -proceed from each papillæ; and there being five large papillæ, that -every thread of spider's silk is composed of at least five thousand -fibres. In the heat of that enthusiasm, with which the microscope filled -speculative minds in the beginning of last century, M. Leuwenhoek -ventured to assert that a hundred of the threads of a full-grown spider -were not equal to the diameter of one single hair of his beard. This -assertion leads to the astounding arithmetical deduction, that if the -spider's threads and the philosopher's hair be both round, ten thousand -threads are not bigger than such a hair; and, computing the diameter of -a thread spun by a young spider as compared with that of an adult -spider, four millions of the fibres of a young spider's web do not equal -a single hair of M. Leuwenhoek's beard. The enthusiastic experimentalist -must have suffered horrible martyrdom under the razor, with such an -exaggerated notion of his beard as these calculations must have given -him. A clever writer, in Lardner's Cyclopædia notices these -measurements, and shows that M. Leuwenhoek went far beyond the limits of -reality in his calculation. - -M. Bon's collection of spiders continued to thrive; and, in due season, -he found that the greater number of them had completed their cocoons or -bags. He then dislodged the bags from the paper boxes; threw them into -warm water, and kept washing them until they were quite free from dirt -of any kind. The next process was to make a preparation of soap, -saltpetre, and gum-arabic dissolved in water. Into this preparation the -bags were thrown, and set to boil over a gentle fire for the space of -three hours. When they were taken out and the soap had been rinsed from -them, they appeared to be composed of fine, strong, ash-colored silk. -Before being carded on fine cards, they were set out for some days to -dry thoroughly. The carding, according to M. Bon, was an easy matter: -and he affirmed that the threads of the silk he obtained were stronger -and finer than those of the silk-worm. M. Reaumur, however, who was -dispatched to the scene of M. Bon's investigations by the Royal Academy -of Paris, gave a different version of the matter. He found, that whereas -the thread of the spider's bag will sustain only thirty-six grains, that -of the silkworm will support a weight of two drachms and a half--or four -times the weight sustained by the spider-thread. Though M. Bon was -certainly an enthusiast on behalf of spiders, M. Reaumur as undoubtedly -had a strong predilection in favor of the bombyx; and the result of -these contending prejudices was, that M. Bon's investigations were -overrated by a few, and utterly disregarded by the majority of his -countrymen. He injured himself by rash assertions. He endeavored to make -out that spiders were more prolific, and yielded a proportionably larger -quantity of silk than silkworms. These assertions were disproved, but in -no kindly spirit, by M. Reaumur. To do away with the impression that -spiders and their webs were venomous, M. Bon not only asserted, with -truth, that their bite was harmless, but he even went so far as to -subject his favorite insect to a chemical analysis, and he succeeded in -extracting from it a volatile salt which he christened Montpelier drops, -and recommended strongly as an efficacious medicine in lethargic states. - -M. Bon undoubtedly produced, from the silk of his spiders, a material -that readily absorbed all kinds of dyes, and was capable of being worked -in any loom. With his carded spider's silk the enthusiastic -experimentalist wove gloves and stockings, which he presented to one or -two learned societies. To these productions several eminent men took -particular exceptions. They discovered that the fineness of the separate -threads of the silk detracted from its lustre, and inevitably produced a -fabric less refulgent than those woven from the silkworm. M. Reaumur's -most conclusive fact against the adoption of spider's silk as an -article of manufacture, was deduced from his observations on the -combativeness of spiders. He discovered that they had not arrived at -that state of civilization when communities find it most to the general -advantage to live on terms of mutual amity and confidence; on the -contrary, the spider-world, according to M. Reaumur (we are writing of a -hundred and forty years ago), was in a continual state of warfare; nay, -not a few spiders were habitual cannibals. Having collected about five -thousand spiders (enough to scare the most courageous old lady), M. -Reaumur shut them up in companies varying in number from fifty to one -hundred. On opening the cells, after the lapse of a few days, "what was -the horror of our hero," as the graphic novelist writes, "to behold the -scene which met his gaze!" Where fifty spiders, happy and full of life, -had a short time before existed, only about two bloated insects now -remained--they had devoured their fellow spiders! This horrible custom -of the spider-world accounts for the small proportion of spiders in -comparison to the immense number of eggs which they produce. So -formidable a difficulty could only be met by rearing each spider in a -separate cage; whether this separation is practicable--that is to say, -whether it can be made to repay the trouble it would require--is a -matter yet to be decided. - -Against M. Bon's treatise on behalf of spider's silk, M. Reaumur urged -further objections. He asserted that, when compared with silkworm's -silk, spider's silk was deficient both in quality and in quantity. His -calculation went to show that the silk of twelve spiders did not more -than equal that of one bombyx; and that no less than fifty-five thousand -two hundred and ninety-six spiders must be reared to produce one pound -of silk. This calculation is now held to be exaggerated; and the spirit -of partisanship in which M. Reaumur's report was evidently concocted, -favors the supposition that he made the most of any objections he could -bring to bear against M. Bon. - -M. Bon's experiments are valuable as far as they go; spider's silk may -be safely set down as an untried raw material. The objections of M. -Reaumur, reasonable in some respects, are not at all conclusive. It is -of course undeniable that the silkworm produces a larger quantity of -silk than any species of spider; but, on the other hand, the spider's -silk may possess certain qualities adapted to particular fabrics, which -would justify its cultivation. At the Great Industrial Show, we shall -probably find some specimens of spider's silk; such contributions would -be useful and suggestive. The idea of brushing down cobwebs to convert -them into ball-room stockings, forces upon us the association of two -most incongruous ideas; but that this transformation is not impossible, -the Royal Society, who are the possessors of some of M. Bon's -spider-fabric, can satisfactorily demonstrate. - - - - -[From the Dublin University Magazine.] - -THE RAILWAY. - - - The silent glen, the sunless stream, - To wandering boyhood dear, - And treasur'd still in many a dream, - They are no longer here; - A huge red mound of earth is thrown - Across the glen so wild and lone, - The stream so cold and clear; - And lightning speed, and thundering sound, - Pass hourly o'er the unsightly mound. - - Nor this alone--for many a mile - Along that iron way, - No verdant banks or hedgerows smile - In summer's glory gay; - Thro' chasms that yawn as though the earth - Were rent in some strange mountain-birth, - Whose depth excludes the day, - We're born away at headlong pace, - To win from time the wearying race! - - The wayside inn, with homelike air, - No longer tempts a guest - To taste its unpretending fare, - Or seek its welcome rest. - The prancing team--the merry horn-- - The cool fresh road at early morn-- - The coachman's ready jest; - All, all to distant dream-land gone, - While shrieking trains are hurrying on. - - Yet greet we them with thankful hearts, - And eyes that own no tear, - 'Tis nothing now, the space which parts - The distant from the dear; - The wing that to her cherish'd nest - Bears home the bird's exulting breast, - Has found its rival here. - With speed like hers we too can haste, - The bliss of meeting hearts to taste. - - For me, I gaze along the line - To watch the approaching train, - And deem it still, 'twixt me and mine, - A rude, but welcome chain - To bind us in a world, whose ties - Each passing hour to sever tries, - But here may try in vain; - To bring us near home many an art, - Stern fate employs to keep apart. - - - - -[From Bentley's Miscellany.] - -THE BLIND SISTER, OR CRIME AND ITS PUNISHMENT. - - -For real comfort, snugness, and often rural beauty, where are there in -the wide world any dwellings that can equal the cottage homes of -England's middle classes? Whether they be clad with ivy and woodbine, -half hidden by forest-trees, and approached by silent, shady lanes, or, -glaring with stucco and green paint, stand perched upon flights of -steps, by the side of dusty suburban roads--whether they be -cockney-christened with fine titles, and dignified as villas, halls, or -lodges, or rejoice in such sweet names as Oak Cottage or Linden -Grove--still within their humble walls, before all other places, are to -be found content, and peace, and pure domestic love. - -Upon the slope of a gentle hill, about a mile from a large town, where I -was attending to the practice of an absent friend, there stood a neat -and pretty residence, with slated roof and trellised porch. A light -verandah shaded the narrow French windows, opening from the favorite -drawing-room upon a trim, smooth lawn, studded with gay parterres, and -bounded by a sweetbriar hedge; and here old Mrs. Reed, the widow of a -clergyman, was busily employed, one lovely autumn afternoon, peering -through her spectacles at the fast-fading flowers, or plucking from some -favorite shrub the "sear and yellow leaf" that spoke of the summer -passed away, and the dreary season hurrying on apace. Her daughter, a -pale and delicate-looking girl, sat with her drooping head leant against -the open window-frame, watching her mother sorrowfully as she felt her -own declining health, and thought how her parent's waning years might -pass away, uncared for, and unsolaced by a daughter's love. Within the -room, a young man was reclining lazily upon a sofa; rather handsome, -about the middle height, _but_ had it not been for a stubby mustache, -very long hair, and his rather slovenly costume--peculiarities which he -considered indispensable to his profession as an artist--there was -nothing in his appearance to distinguish him from the generality of -young English gentlemen of his age and station. Presently there fell -upon his ear the notes of a beautiful symphony, played with most -exquisite taste upon the harp, and gradually blending with a woman's -voice, deep, soft and tremulous, every now and then, as if with intense -feeling, in one of those elaborate yet enervating melodies that have -their birth in sunny Italy. The performer was about twenty-five years of -age, of haughty and dazzling beauty. Her dark wavy hair, gathered behind -into a large glossy knot, was decked on one side with a bunch of pink -rose buds. A full white robe, that covered, without hiding, the outline -of her bust and arms, was bound at the waist with a thick cord and -tassel of black silk and gold, adding all that dress could add to the -elegance of her tall and splendid figure. Then, as she rose and -stretched out her jeweled hand to tighten a loose string, the ineffable -grace of the studied attitude in which she stood for some moments showed -her to be well skilled in those fascinating arts that so often captivate -the senses before the heart is touched. - -This lady was the daughter of Mrs. Reed's only sister, who in her youth -had run away with an Italian music master. Signor Arnatti, although a -poor adventurer, was not quite devoid of honor, for, when first married, -he really loved his English wife, and proudly introduced her to his -friends at Florence, where her rank and fortune were made much of, and -she was caressed and fêted until half wild with pleasure and excitement. -But this was not to last. Her husband, a man of violent and -ungovernable temper, was heard to utter certain obnoxious political -opinions; and it being discovered that he was connected with a dangerous -conspiracy against the existing government, a speedy flight alone saved -him from the scaffold or perpetual imprisonment. They sought a temporary -home in Paris, where, after dissipating much of their little fortune at -the gambling-table, he met with a sudden and violent death in a -night-brawl, just in time to save his wife and child from poverty. The -young widow, who of late had thought more of her infant than its father, -was not long inconsolable. Discarded by her own relations, who, with -bitter and cruel taunts, had refused all communication with her, and now -too proud to return to them again, she settled with her little girl in -Italy, where a small income enabled her to lead a life of unrestrained -gayety, that soon became almost necessary to her existence. Here young -Catherine was reared and educated, flattered and spoiled by all about -her; and encouraged by her vain mother to expect nothing less than an -alliance with high rank and wealth, she refused many advantageous offers -of marriage, and ere long gained the character of a heartless and -unprincipled coquette, especially among the English visitors, who -constituted a great part of the society in which she moved. Her mother -corresponded occasionally with Mrs. Reed; and the sisters still -cherished an affection for each other, which increased as they advanced -in years; but their ideas, their views, even their religion was -different, and the letters they exchanged once, or at most twice a year, -afforded but little satisfaction to either. When the cholera visited -Italy, Madame Arnatti was seized with a presentiment that fate had -already numbered her among its victims, and, under the influence of this -feeling, wrote a long and touching letter to her sister, freely -confessing the sin and folly of her conduct in regard to her daughter's -management, of whom she gave a long description, softened, it is true, -by a mother's hand, yet containing many painful truths, that must have -caused the doting parent infinite sorrow to utter. She concluded by -repeating her conviction that her end was near, and consigning Catherine -to her sister's care, with an entreaty that she would take her from the -immoral and polluted atmosphere in which they lived, and try the effect -of her piety, and kindness, and steady English habits on the young -woman's violent and ungovernable passions. Months passed away; and then -Mrs. Reed received a letter from Catherine herself, telling of her -mother's death; also one from a lady, in whose company she was traveling -homeward, in accordance with her mother's dying wish. Another long -interval elapsed, and the good lady was preparing to visit London for -the purpose of consulting an eminent physician on her daughter's state -of health when news reached the cottage of Miss Arnatti's arrival in -that city, which had been retarded thus long by tedious quarantine laws, -illness, and other causes. - -Her guardian was apparently glad enough to get rid of the charge she had -undertaken, and within a week Catherine removed to her aunt's lodgings, -where she was received and treated with every affectionate attention; -but a constant yearning after gayety and amusements, indelicate and -unfeeling as it appeared to her relatives, so soon after the loss of an -only parent; the freedom and boldness of her manners when in company or -in public, and her overbearing conduct to those about her, augured but -little in favor of such an addition to their circle. However, the good -aunt hoped for better things from the removal to her quiet country-home. -Their stay in London was even shorter than they had intended, and, for -some time after their return to the cottage, Miss Arnatti endeavored to -adapt herself to the habits that must have been so strange and new to -her; she even sought, and made herself agreeable in the very orderly but -cheerful society where her aunt and cousin introduced her, although -Annie Reed's increasing weakness prevented them from receiving much -company at their own house. - -Edwin Reed, Catherine's other cousin, was absent on a tour in Wales, and -had only returned a few days previous to the afternoon on which we have -described him as listening, enraptured, to the lady's native music. -Seating herself at the piano, she followed this by a brilliant waltz, -the merry, sparkling notes of which made the eye brighten and the brain -whirl, from very sympathy; and then returning to her favorite -instrument, she sang, to a low, plaintive accompaniment, a simple -English ballad, telling of man's heartlessness, and woman's frailty and -despair. The last verse ran: - - So faith and hope her soul forsaking, - Each day to heavier sorrow waking - This cruel love her heart was breaking - Yet, ere her breath - Was hushed in death, - She breathed a prayer - For her betrayer-- - Angels to heaven her poor soul taking. - -Scarcely had she finished, when, as if in thorough contempt of the -maiden's weakness, she drew her hand violently across the strings with a -discordant crash, that startled poor little Annie painfully, and pushing -the harp from her with an impatient gesture, abruptly quitted the room. - -The old lady had gone in to enjoy a gossip with her next-door neighbor, -and so the brother and sister were alone. The signs of tears were on the -latter's cheek as Edwin approached and sat down by her side; attributing -this to her extreme sensibility wrought upon by what they had just -heard, he spoke some kind and cheering words, and then began to talk -enthusiastically of their cousin's beauty and accomplishments. She -listened to him quietly for some time, and then, - -"Dear brother," she said, timidly, "you must forgive me for what I am -about to say, when it is to warn and caution you against those very -charms that have already made such an impression on you. I am not one, -Edwin, as you know, to speak ill, even of my enemies, if such there be; -and to any other but yourself would hide her faults, and try to think of -some pleasing trait on which to dwell, when her name was mentioned. Nay, -do not interrupt me, for rest assured, I am only prompted by a sister's -love. I have seen much of Catherine, and heard more; I fear her dreadful -temper--her different faith; although, indeed, she seems to neglect all -religious duties, even those of her own church. Then I think of her -rudeness and inattention to our dear mother, who is so kind and gentle -to her. Had you been in London when we first met, you would not wonder -at our being shocked and pained at all we witnessed there." - -"But, Annie, dear," said her brother, "why should you talk thus -earnestly to me? Surely I may admire and praise a handsome woman, -without falling hopelessly in love." - -"You may, or you may not," continued Annie, warmly. "But this I know and -feel, that, unless she were to change in every manner, thought, and -action, she is the last person in the world that I would see possess a -hold upon my brother's heart. Why, do you know, she makes a boast of the -many lovers she has encouraged and discarded; and even shows, with -ill-timed jests, letters from her admirers, containing protestations of -affection, and sentiments that any woman of common feeling would at -least consider sacred." - -"And have you nothing, then, to say in her favor?" said young Reed, -quietly. "Can you make no allowance for the manner in which she has been -brought up? or, may she never change from what you represent her?" - -"She may, perhaps; but let me beg of you, Edwin, to pause, and think, -and not be infatuated and led away, against your better judgment, as so -many have already been." - -"Why, my dear sister," he replied, "if we were on the point of running -off together, you could not be more earnest in the matter; but I have -really never entertained such thoughts as you suggest, and if I did, -should consider myself quite at liberty to act as I pleased, whether I -were guided by your counsel or not." - -"Well, Edwin, be not angry with me; perhaps I have spoken too strongly -on the subject. You know how much I have your happiness at heart, and -this it is that makes me say so much. I often think I have not long to -live, but while I am here would have you promise me--" - -A chilly breeze swept over the lawn, and the invalid was seized with a -violent fit of coughing; her brother shut the casement, and wrapped the -shawl closer round her slight figure. Mrs. Reed entered the room at the -same instant, and their conversation ended. - -Catherine Arnatti was in her own chamber, the open window of which was -within a few yards of where her cousins had been talking. Attracted -thither by the sound, she listened intently, and leaning out, apparently -employed in training the branches of a creeping plant, she had heard -every word they uttered. - -The winter passed away pleasantly enough, for two at least of the party -at the cottage. - -Catherine and Edwin were of necessity much thrown together; she sat to -him as a model, accompanied him in his walks, and flattered him by -innumerable little attentions, that were unnoticed by the others; but -still her conduct to his mother and sister, although seemingly more kind -of late, was insincere, and marked by a want of sympathy and affection, -that often grieved him deeply. Her temper she managed to control, but -sometimes not without efforts on her part that were more painful to -witness than her previous outbreaks of passion. Six months had elapsed -since Miss Arnatti had overheard, with feelings of hatred toward one, -and thorough contempt of both speakers, the dialogue in which her faults -had been so freely exposed. Yet she fully expected that young Reed would -soon be at her feet, a humble follower, as other men had been; but -although polite, attentive, and ever seeking her society, he still -forbore to speak of love, and then, piqued and angry at his conduct, she -used every means to gain his affection, without at first any real motive -for so doing; soon, however, this wayward lady began to fancy that the -passion she would only feign was really felt--and being so unexpectedly -thwarted gave strength to this idea--and in proportion also grew her -hatred toward Miss Reed, to whose influence she attributed her own -failure. Before long she resolved that Edwin _should_ be her husband, by -which means her revenge on Annie would be gratified, and a tolerable -position in the world obtained for herself, for she had ascertained that -the young man's fortune, although at present moderate, was yet -sufficient to commence with, and that his prospects and expectations -were nearly all that could be desired. - -Neither was Edwin altogether proof against her matchless beauty. At -times he felt an almost irresistible impulse to kneel before her, and -avow himself a slave forever, and as often would some hasty word or -uncongenial sentiment turn his thoughts into another channel; and then -they carried him away to an old country seat in Wales, where he had -spent the summer of last year on a visit to some friends of his family. -A young lady, of good birth and education, resided there as governess to -some half-dozen wild and turbulent children. Her kind and unobtrusive -manners and gentle voice first attracted his attention toward her; and -although perhaps not handsome, her pale sweet face and dark blue eye -made an impression that deepened each day as he discovered fresh -beauties in her intellectual and superior mind. After an acquaintance of -some months he made an offer of his hand, and her conduct on this -occasion only confirmed the ardent affection he entertained for her. -Candidly admitting that she could joyfully unite her lot with his, she -told her previous history, and begged the young man to test his feelings -well before allying himself to a poor and portionless girl, and for this -purpose prayed that twelve months might elapse before the subject of -their marriage were renewed. She would not doubt him then; still he -might see others, who would seem more worthy of his regard: but if, in -that time, his sentiments were unchanged, all that she had to give was -his forever. In vain he tried to alter this resolution; her arguments -were stronger than his own, and so at last, with renewed vows of -fidelity, he reluctantly bade her farewell. For various reasons he had -kept this attachment a secret from his family, not altogether sure of -the light in which they might view it; and the position of the young -governess would have been rendered doubly painful, had those under whose -roof she dwelt been made acquainted with the circumstances. Although -fully aware in cooler moments that, even had he known no other, his -cousin Catherine was a person with whom, as a companion for life, he -could never hope for real happiness, still he knew the danger of his -situation, and resolved not without a struggle, to tear himself away -from the sphere of her attractions; and so, one evening, Edwin announced -his intention of setting off next day on a walking excursion through -Scotland, proposing to visit Wales on his return. Different were the -feelings with which each of the ladies received this intelligence. -Catherine, who had but the day before refused a pressing invitation to -join a gay party, assembled at the London mansion of one of her old -acquaintances, turned away and bit her lip with rage and chagrin, as -Miss Reed repeated to her mother, who had grown deaf of late, over and -over again to make her understand, that Edwin was about to leave them -for a time--was going to Scotland, and purposed leaving by the mail on -the morrow night. She had of course no objection to offer, being but too -glad to believe that nothing more than friendship existed between her -son and sister's child; yet wondered much what had led to such a sudden -resolution. - -Catherine Arnatti never closed her eyes that night; one instant fancying -that Edwin loved her, and only paused to own it for fear of a refusal, -and flattering herself that he would not leave without. These thoughts -gave way to bitter disappointment, hatred, and vows of revenge against -him, and all connected with him, more particularly his sister, whose -words she now recalled, torturing herself with the idea that Annie had -extorted a promise from her brother never to wed his cousin while she -lived; and the sickly girl had improved much since then, and might, -after all, be restored to perfect health; then, the first time for -years, she wept--cried bitterly at the thought of being separated from -one against whom she had but just before been breathing threats and -imprecations, and yet imagined was the only man she had ever really -loved. A calmer mood succeeded, and she lay down, resolving and -discarding schemes to gain her wishes, that occupied her mind till -daylight. - -The next day passed in busy preparations; Edwin avoiding, as he dreaded, -the result of a private interview with his cousin. Toward the afternoon -Miss Reed and her mother happened to be engaged with their medical -attendant, who opportunely called that day, and often paid longer visits -than were absolutely necessary; and Catherine, who with difficulty had -restrained her emotions, seizing on the opportunity, and scarcely -waiting to knock at the door, entered Edwin's apartment. He was engaged -in packing a small portmanteau, and looking up, beheld her standing -there, pale and agitated, more beautiful he thought than ever, and yet a -combination of the angel and the fiend. Some moments passed in silence; -then, advancing quickly, holding out her hand, she spoke in a husky -voice: - -"Edwin, I have come to bid you a farewell--if, indeed, you go to-night, -in this world we shall never meet again; neither hereafter, if half that -you believe is true. It sets one thinking, does it not? a parting that -we feel to be for ever, from those with whom we have been in daily -intercourse, even for a few short months." - -"And pray, Catherine," he asked, trying to talk calmly, "why should we -not meet again? Even if I were about to visit the antipodes I should -look forward to return some day; indeed it would grieve me much to think -that I should never enjoy again your company, where I have spent so many -pleasant hours, and of which, believe me, I shall ever cherish a -grateful recollection. Be kind to poor Annie and my mother when I am -gone, and if you think it not too great a task, I shall be very glad -sometimes to hear the news from you, and in return will write you of my -wanderings in the Highlands." - -"Well, good-by, Edwin," she repeated; "for all you say, my words may yet -prove true." - -"But I do not go yet for some hours, and we shall meet again below -before I leave; why not defer good-by till then?" - -There was another pause before she answered, with passionate energy, and -grasping his arm tightly: - -"And is this all you have to say? Now listen to me, Edwin: know that I -love you, and judge of its intensity by my thus owning it. I am no -bashful English girl, to die a victim to concealment or suspense, but -_must_ and _will_ know all at once. Now, tell me, sir, have I misplaced -my love? Tell me, I say, and quickly; for, by the powers above, you -little know how much depends upon your answer." - -She felt his hand, cold and trembling; his face was even paler than her -own, as, overwhelmed with confusion, Edwin stammered out, - -"Really, Miss Arnatti--Catherine--I was not aware; at least, I am so -taken by surprise. Give me time to think, for--" - -"What, then, you hesitate," she said, stamping her foot; and then, with -desperate calmness, added, in a softer tone, "Well, be it so; body and -soul I offer, and you reject the gift." A violent struggle was racking -the young man's breast, and, by the working of his countenance she saw -it, and paused. But still he never raised his eyes to hers, that were so -fixed on him; and she continued, "You ask for time to think, oh! heaven -and hell, that I should come to this! But take it, and think well; it is -four hours before you quit this roof; I will be there to say adieu. Or -better, perhaps, if you will write, and give at leisure the result of -your deliberations." - -She spoke the last words with a bitter sneer; yet Edwin caught at the -suggestion, and replied, - -"Yes, I will write, I promise you, within a month. Forgive my apparent -coldness; forgive--" - -"Hush!" interrupted Catherine; "your sister calls; why does she come -here now? You will not mention what has passed, I know; remember, within -a month I am to hear. Think of me kindly, and believe that I might make -you love me even as I love you. Now, go to her, go before she finds you -here." - -Edwin pressed her hand in parting, and she bent down her forehead, but -the kiss imprinted there was cold and passionless. He met his sister at -the door, and led her back affectionately to the drawing-room she had -just quitted. - -The old gardener had deposited a portmanteau and knapsack on the very -edge of the footpath by the side of the high road, and had been watching -for the mail, with a great horn lantern, some half-hour or so before it -was expected; while the housemaid was stationed inside the gate, upon -the gravel-walk, ready to convey the intelligence, as soon as the lights -were visible coming up the hill; and cook stood at the front-door, -gnawing her white apron. The family were assembled in that very -unpleasant state of expectation, that generally precedes the departure -of a friend or relative; Edwin walking about the room, wrapped up for -traveling, impatient and anxious to be off. At last, the gardener -halloed out lustily; Betty ran toward the house, as if pursued by a wild -beast, and screaming, "It's a-coming;" and cook, who had been standing -still all the time, rushed in, quite out of breath, begging Mr. Edwin to -make haste, for the coach never waited a minute for nobody; so he -embraced his mother and sister; and then, taking Catherine's hand, -raised it hastily, but respectfully to his lips. Miss Reed watched the -movement, and saw how he avoided the piercing gaze her cousin fixed upon -him, not so intently though, but that she noted the faint gleam of -satisfaction that passed over Annie's pale face; and cursed her for it. -Strange, that the idea of any other rival had never haunted her. - -"Good-by, once more," said Edwin. "I may return before you expect me; -God bless you all!" - -And, in another five minutes, he was seated by the side of the frosty -old gentleman who drove the mail, puffing away vigorously at his -meerschaum. - -The ladies passed a dismal evening; more so, indeed, than the -circumstances would seem to warrant. Annie commenced a large piece of -embroidery, that, judging from its size and the slow progress made, -seemed likely to afford her occupation and amusement until she became an -old woman; while Mrs. Reed called to mind all the burglaries and murders -that had been committed in the neighborhood during the last twenty -years; deploring their unprotected situation, discussing the propriety -of having an alarm-bell hung between two of the chimney-pots, and making -arrangements for the gardener to sleep on the premises for the future. -Miss Arnatti never raised her eyes from the book over which she bent. -Supper, generally their most cheerful meal, remained untouched, and, -earlier than usual, they retired to their respective chambers. - -For several hours, Catherine sat at her open window, looking out into -the close, hazy night. The soft wind, that every now and then had -rustled through the trees, or shaken dewdrops from the thick ivy -clustered beneath the overhanging eaves, had died away. As the mist -settled down, and a few stars peeped out just over head, a black curtain -of clouds seemed to rise up from the horizon, hiding the nearest objects -in impenetrable darkness. The only sounds now heard were those that told -of man's vicinity, and his restlessness: the occasional rumble of a -distant vehicle; the chime of bells; sometimes the echo of a human -voice, in the direction of the town; the ticking of a watch, or the hard -breathing of those that slept; and these fell on the ear with strange -distinctness, amid the awful stillness of nature. Presently, the clouds, -that hung over a valley far away, opened horizontally for an instant, -while a faint flash of lightning flickered behind, showing their -cumbrous outline. In a few minutes a brighter flash in another quarter -was followed by the low roll of distant thunder; and so the storm worked -round, nearer and nearer, until it burst in all its fury over the hill -on which the cottage stood. - -Miss Reed, who from her childhood had always felt an agonizing and -unconquerable fear during a thunder-storm, roused from her light -slumber, lay huddled up, and trembling, with her face buried in the -pillow. She did not hear the door open or the footstep that approached -so stealthily, before a hand was laid upon her shoulder; and starting up -she recognized her cousin. - -"Oh, Catherine!" she faltered, covering her eyes, "do stay with me -awhile; I am so terrified--and think of Edwin, too, exposed as he must -be to it." - -"I _have_ been thinking of him, Annie." - -"But you are frightened, also, a little, are you not--with all your -courage, or what made you shake so then?" said the poor girl, trying to -draw her cousin nearer as flash after flash glared before her eyelids, -and louder claps of thunder followed each other at shorter intervals. - -"I frightened?" replied the dauntless woman, "I frightened; and what -at? Not at the thunder, surely; and as for lightning, if it strikes, -they say, it brings a sudden and painless death, leaving but seldom even -a mark upon the corpse. Who would not prefer this, to lingering on a bed -of sickness." - -"Do not say so, Catherine, pray do not; only think if--O God, have mercy -on us! Was not _that_ awful?" - -"Was it not grand? Magnificent--awful if you will. Think of its raging -and reveling uncontrolled, and striking where and what it will, without -a bound or limit to its fury. And fancy such a storm pent up in the -narrow compass of a human breast, and yet not bursting its frail prison. -What can the torments that they tell us of, hereafter, be to this?" - -"And what reason can you have, dear cousin, for talking thus. Kneel down -by me, for once, and pray; for surely, at such a time as this, if at no -other, you must feel there is a God." - -"No; you pray, Annie Reed, if it will comfort you; pray for us both. -There, now, lie down again, and hide your face. I will stand by your -side and listen to you." - -She drew the slender figure gently back. Then, with a sudden movement, -seizing a large pillow dashed it over Annie's face, pressing thereon -with all her strength. The long, half-smothered, piteous cry that -followed, was almost unheard in the roaring of the storm that now was at -its height. By the vivid light that every instant played around, she saw -the violent efforts of her victim, whose limbs were moving up and down, -convulsively, under the white bed-clothes. Then, throwing the whole -weight of her body across the bed, she clutched and strained upon the -frame, to press more heavily. Suddenly all movement ceased, and the -murderess felt a short and thrilling shudder underneath her. Still, her -hold never relaxed; untouched by pity or remorse, exulting in the -thought that the cruel deed was nearly done, so easily, and under -circumstances where no suspicion of the truth was likely to arise; -dreading to look upon the dead girl's face too soon, lest the mild eyes -should still be open, and beaming on her with reproach and horror. But -what was it she felt then, so warm and sticky, trickling down her arm? -She knew it to be blood, even before the next flash showed the crimson -stain, spreading slowly over the pillow. Again the electric fluid darted -from the clouds, but this time charged with its special mission from on -high. The murderess was struck! and springing up, she fell back with one -shrill, wild, piercing shriek, that reached the ears of those below, -before it was drowned in the din of falling masonry, and the tremendous -crash that shook the house to its foundation, until the walls quivered, -like the timbers of a ship beating on a rocky shore. - -That night I had been to visit a patient at some distance, and finding -no shelter near when returning, had ridden on through the storm. Just -entering the town, I overtook a man, pressing on quickly in the same -direction. Making some passing remark upon the weather, I was recognized -by the old gardener, who begged me for God's sake to hurry back; the -cottage, he said, was struck by lightning, and two of the ladies either -dying or dead from the injuries they had received. In a few minutes my -horse was at the gate. I had just time to observe that two of the -chimneys were thrown down, and some mischief done to the roof. On -entering the house, I was guided, by the low, wailing sound of intense -grief, to an upper room, where I beheld one of those scenes that, in an -instant, stamp themselves upon the memory, leaving their transfer there -forever. - -Day was just breaking; a cold gray light slowly gaining strength over -the yellow glare of some unsnuffed candles, while the occasional boom of -distant thunder told that the storm was not yet exhausted. Extended on a -low couch, and held by the terrified servants, was the wreck of the once -beautiful Catherine Arnatti; at short intervals her features became -horribly distorted by an epileptic spasm, that seized one side of the -body, while the other half appeared to be completely paralyzed; and the -unmeaning glare of the eye, when the lid was raised, told that the organ -of vision was seriously injured, if not entirely destroyed. Close by, -the mother bent sobbing over the helpless form of her own child, -blanched and inanimate, with a streak of blood just oozing from her -pallid lips. I found afterward, that Miss Reed, in her fearful struggle, -had ruptured a vessel, and, fainting from the loss of blood, had lain -for some time to all appearance dead. Shortly, however, a slight -fluttering over the region of the heart, and a quiver of the nostril, -told that the principle of life still lingered in the shattered -tenement. With the aid of gentle stimulants, she recovered sufficiently -to recognize her mother; but as her gaze wandered vacantly around, it -fell on the wretched and blasted creature, from whose grasp she had been -so wonderfully rescued. As if some magnetic power was in that glance, -Catherine rose up suddenly, despair and horror in the glassy stare she -fixed on the corpse-like form before her, as, with another yell, such as -burst forth when first struck by the hand of God, she relapsed into one -of the most dreadful and violent paroxysms I have ever witnessed. Annie -clung tightly to her mother, crying, in a faint, imploring voice, "Oh, -save me--save me from her!" ere, with a heavy sigh, she once more sank -into insensibility. It was not until late in the afternoon, and then -only with great difficulty, that she was able to make those around her -understand what had taken place, and account for the intense horror that -seized upon her, when at times a groan or cry was heard from the -adjoining chamber, in which Miss Arnatti lay. It became, therefore, -necessary that this person should be removed, and accordingly, the same -night she was taken to lodgings in the town. Her conduct there was such -as to induce a belief that she might be insane, and steps were taken -toward placing her in a private asylum. Once only, a few days after her -removal, she asked, suddenly, if Miss Reed were not dead; but appeared -to betray no emotion on being informed, that although still alive, her -cousin was in most imminent danger, and, turning away, from that time -maintained a determined silence, which nothing could induce her to -break, obstinately refusing all medical aid. - -I visited her in company with the physician in attendance, about six -weeks afterward, when she appeared to have recovered, in a great -measure, the use of her limbs; but every lineament of the face was -altered; the sight of one eye quite destroyed, and drawn outward, until -little could be seen but a discolored ball, over which the lid hung down -flabby and powerless; while a permanent distortion of the mouth added to -the frightful appearance this occasioned. The beautiful hair was gone, -and the unsightly bristles that remained were only partly concealed by -the close-fitting cap she wore. It was indeed a sight to move the -sternest heart. That proud and stately woman who had so cruelly abused -the power her personal beauty alone had given her; trifling alike with -youth's ardent and pure first love, as with the deeper and more lasting -affection of manhood, and glorying in the misery and wretchedness she -caused! Stopped in her full career, her punishment began already. Yet -was there no index on that stolid face to tell how the dark spirit -worked within; whether it felt remorse or sorrow for the crime, and pity -for its victim, fearing a further punishment in this world or the next; -whether the heart was torn by baffled rage and hatred still, scheming -and plotting, even now that all hope was gone. Or was the strong -intellect really clouded? - -That night her attendant slept long and heavily; she might have been -drugged, for Miss Arnatti had access to her desk and jewel case, in the -secret drawers of which were afterward found several deadly and -carefully prepared poisons. - -In a room below was a large chimney-glass, and here Catherine first saw -the full extent of the awful judgment that had befallen her. A cry of -rage and despair, and the loud crash of broken glass, aroused the -inmates early in the morning: they found the mirror shivered into a -thousand fragments, but their charge was gone. We learned that day, that -a person answering to her description, wearing a thick vail, and walking -with pain and difficulty, had been one of the passengers on board a -steam-packet that left the town at daylight. - -For a long time Annie Reed lay in the shadow of death. She lived, -however, many years, a suffering and patient invalid. Edwin married his -betrothed and brought her home, where his fond mother and sister soon -loved her as they loved him; and Annie played aunt to the first-born, -and shared their happiness awhile; and when her gentle spirit passed -away, her mother bent to the heavy blow, living resigned and peacefully -with her remaining children to a good old age. - -All efforts to trace the unhappy fugitive proved unavailing, and much -anxiety was felt on her account; but about ten months after her -disappearance, Mrs. Reed received a letter relative to the transfer of -what little property her niece had possessed to a convent in Tuscany. -The lady-abbess, a distant relative of Miss Arnatti's, had also written -much concerning her, from which the following is extracted: - -"When a child, Catherine was for two years a boarder in this very house. -Fifteen years passed since then, and she came to us travel-worn, and -weak, and ill. Her history is known only to her confessor and myself; -and she has drawn from us a promise that the name of England should -never more be mentioned to her; and whatever tidings we may hear, in -consequence of this communication, from those she had so cruelly -injured, whether of life and health, or death--of forgiveness, or hatred -and disgust at her ingratitude--that no allusion to it should be ever -made to her. She follows rigidly the most severe rules of the -establishment, but avoids all intercourse with the sisters. Much of her -time is spent at the organ, and often, in the dead of night, we are -startled or soothed by the low melancholy strains that come from the -dark chapel. Her horror always on the approach of thunder-storms is a -thing fearful to witness, and we think she can not long survive the -dreadful shocks she suffers from this cause. They leave her, too, in -total darkness many days. A mystery to all, we only speak of her as the -BLIND SISTER." - - - - -[From Chambers's Edinburgh Journal.] - -FORTUNES OF THE GARDENER'S DAUGHTER. - - -Between Passy and Auteuil were still to be seen, some few years ago, the -remains of what had been a gentleman's residence. The residence and the -family to whom it had belonged had both fallen during the first -Revolution. The bole of a once magnificent tree, stag-headed, owing to -the neighboring buildings having hurt the roots, was all the evidence -that remained of a park; but bits of old moss-grown wall--broken steps -that led to nothing--heads and headless trunks of statues that once -adorned the edges of what, now a marsh, had formerly been a piece of -ornamental water--little thickets of stunted trees stopped in their -growth by want of care--all hinted of what had been, although they could -give no idea of the beauty which had once made Bouloinvilliers the pride -of the neighborhood and its possessor. Such was the aspect of the place -recently; but when the following anecdote begins, France was to external -appearance prosperous, and Bouloinvilliers was still in its bloom. - -At a cottage within the gate which entered the grounds lived the -gardener and his wife. They had been long married, had lost all their -children, and were considered by every body a staid, elderly couple, -when, to the astonishment of all, a girl was born. This precious plant, -the child of their old age, was the delight especially of Pierre's life: -he breathed but in little Marie, and tended her with the utmost care. -Although attired in the costume appropriate to her station, her clothes -were of fine materials; every indulgence in their power was lavished -upon her, and every wish gratified, except the very natural one of going -outside the grounds--_that_ was never permitted to her whom they had -dedicated to the blessed Virgin, and determined to keep "unspotted from -the world." Pierre himself taught her to read very well, and to write a -little; Cécilon to knit, sew, and prepare the _pot-au-feu_; and -amusement she easily found for herself. She lived among green leaves and -blossoms: she loved them as sisters: all her thoughts turned toward the -flowers that surrounded her on every side; they were her sole -companions, and she never wearied playing with them. An old lime, the -branches of which drooped round like a tent, and where the bees sought -honey as long as there was any lingering on its sweetly-odorous -branches, was her house, as she termed it; a large acorn formed a -coffee-pot; its cups her cups, plates, porringers, and saucers, -according to their size and flatness; and bits of broken porcelain, -rubbed bright, enlivened the knotted stump, which served for shelves, -chimney, and all; a water-lily was her _marmite_; fir-cones her cows; a -large mushroom her table, when mushrooms were in season, at other times -a bit of wood covered with green moss or wild sorrel. Her dolls even -were made of flowers--bunches of lilies and roses formed the faces, a -bundle of long beech-sprigs the bodies; and for hours would she sit -rocking them, her low song chiming in with the drowsy hum of the -insects. - -When grown older, and become more adventurous, she used to weave little -boats from rushes upon bits of cork, and freight them with flowers. -These she launched on the lake, where the fresh air and fresh water kept -them sometimes longer from fading than would have otherwise been their -fate, during the hot dry days of July and August, on their native beds. -Thus passed her happy childhood: often and often she dreamed over it in -after-life, pleasing herself with the fancy, that perhaps as God, when -he made sinless man in his own image, gave him a garden as his home, so -for those who entered into "the joy of our Lord" a garden might be -prepared in heaven, sweeter far than even that of Bouloinvilliers--one -where sun never scorched, cold never pinched, flowers never faded, birds -never died. The death of a bird was the greatest grief she had known, a -cat the most ferocious animal she had as yet encountered. She attended -the private chapel on Sundays and saints' days. The day she made her -first communion was the first of her entry into the world, and much -distraction of mind did the unwonted sight of houses, shops, and crowds -of people, cause to our little recluse, which served for reflection, -conversation, and curious questioning for many a day after. On a -white-painted table with a drawer there stood a plaster-cast of the -Virgin Mary, much admired by its innocent namesake, and associated in -her mind with praises and sugar-plums--for whenever she had been -particularly good she found some there for her. It was her office to -dust it with a feather brush, supply water to the flowers amid which the -little figure stood, and replace them with fresh ones when faded. -Whenever she was petulant a black screen was placed before the table, -and Marie was not suffered to approach it. This was her only punishment; -indeed the only one she required, for she heard and saw nothing wrong; -her parents never disputed, and they were so gentle and indulgent to -her, that she never felt tempted to disguise the truth. The old priest -often represented to the father that unless he intended his child for -the cloister, this mode of bringing her up in such total seclusion and -ignorance was almost cruel; but Pierre answered that he could give her a -good fortune, and would take care to secure a good husband for her; and -her perfect purity and innocence were so beautiful, that the -kind-hearted but unwise ecclesiastic did not insist farther. - -In the mean time she grew apace; and her mother being dead, Marie lived -on as before with her father, whose affection only increased with his -years, both of them apparently thinking that the world went on as they -did themselves, unchanged in a single idea. Alas! "we know not what a -day may bring forth," even when we have an opportunity of seeing and -hearing all that passes around us. Pierre and Marie were scarcely aware -of the commencement of the Revolution until it was at its height--the -marquis, his son, and the good priest massacred--madame escaped to -England--and the property divided, and in the possession of others of a -very different stamp from his late kind patron, a model of suavity and -grace of manner even in that capital which gave laws of politeness to -the rest of Europe. All this came like a clap of thunder upon the -astonished Pierre; and although he continued to live in his old cottage, -he never more held up his head. Finally he became quite childish, and -one day died sitting in his chair, his last words being "Marie," his -last action pointing to the little figure of the Virgin. When his death, -however, became known, the new propriétaire desired that the cottage -should be vacated, and came himself to look after its capabilities. He -was astonished at the innocent beauty of the youthful Marie, but not -softened by it; for his bold, coarse admiration, and loud, insolent -manner, so terrified the gentle recluse, that as soon as it was dark she -made a bundle of her clothes, and taking the cherished little earthern -image in her hand, went forth, like Eve from paradise, though, alas! not -into a world without inhabitants. Terrified to a degree which no one not -brought up as she had been can form the least idea of, but resolved to -dare any thing rather than meet that bold, bad man again, she plunged -into the increasing gloom, and wandered, wearied and heart broken, she -knew not whither, until, hungry and tired, she could go no farther. She -lay down, therefore, at the foot of a tree, with her head on her bundle, -and the Virgin in her hand, and soon fell sound asleep. - -She was awakened from a dream of former days by rough hands, and upon -regaining her recollection, found that some one had snatched the bundle -from beneath her head, and that nothing remained to her but the little -image, associated in her mind with that happy childhood to which her -present destitute and friendless condition formed so terrible a -contrast. The sneers, and in some cases the insults of the passers-by, -terrified her to such a degree, that, regardless of consequences, she -penetrated further into the Bois de Boulogne, when at length weak, and -indeed quite exhausted, from want of food, she sank down, praying to God -to let her die, and take her to heaven. She waited patiently for some -time, hoping, and more than half expecting, that what she asked so -earnestly would be granted to her. About an hour passed, and Marie, -wondering in her simple faith that she was still alive, repeated her -supplications, uttering them in her distraction in a loud tone of voice. -Suddenly she fancied she heard sounds of branches breaking, and the -approach of footsteps, and filled with the utmost alarm lest it might be -some of those much-dreaded men who had derided and insulted her, she -attempted to rise and fly; but her weakness was so great, that after a -few steps she fell. - -"My poor girl," said a kind voice, "are you ill? What do you here, so -far from your home and friends?" - -"I have no home, no friend but God, and I want to go to Him. Oh, my God, -let me die! let me die!" - -"You are too young to die yet: you have many happy days in store, I -hope. Come, come; eat something, or you _will_ die." - -"But eating will make me live, and I want to die, and go to my father -and mother." - -"But that would be to kill yourself, and then you would never see either -God or your parents, you know. Come, eat a morsel, and take a mouthful -of wine." - -"But when _you_ go, there is no one to give me any more, so I shall only -be longer in dying." - -"Self-destruction, you ought to know, if you have been properly brought -up, is the only sin for which there _can_ be no pardon, for that is the -only sin we _can not_ repent." - -Marie looked timidly up at the manly, sensible, kind face which bent -over her, and accepted the food he offered. He was dressed as a workman, -and had on his shoulders a hod of glass: in fact, he was an itinerant -glazier. His look was compassionate, but his voice, although soft, was -authoritative. Refreshed by what she had taken, Marie sat up, and very -soon was able to walk. She told her little history, one word of which -he never doubted. - -"But what do you mean to do?" asked the young man. - -"To stay with you always, for you are kind and good, and no one else is -so to me." - -"But that can not be: it would not be right, you know." - -"And why would it not be right? Oh, _do_ let me! don't send me away! I -will be so good!" answered she, her entire ignorance and innocence -preventing her feeling what any girl, brought up among her -fellow-creatures, however carefully, would at once have done. - -Auguste was a Belgian, without any relations at Paris, and with little -means of supporting a wife; but young, romantic, and kind-hearted, he -resolved at once to marry his innocent protégée, as soon at least as he -could find a priest to perform the ceremony--no easy task at that time, -and in the eyes of the then world of Paris no necessary one, for -profligacy was at its height, and the streets were yet red with the -blood of the virtuous and noble. They began life, then, with his load of -glass and her gold cross and gold ear-rings, heir-looms of considerable -value, which providentially the robbers had not thought of taking from -her. With the produce of the ear-rings they hired a garret and some -humble furniture, where they lived from hand to mouth, Marie taking in -coarse sewing, and her husband sometimes picking up a few sous at his -trade. Often, however, they had but one meal a day, seldom any fire; and -when their first child was born, their troubles of course materially -increased, and Auguste often returned from a weary ramble all over Paris -just as he had set out--without having even gained a solitary sou. The -cross soon followed the ear-rings, and they had now nothing left that -they could part with except the little plaster figure so often alluded -to, which would not bring a franc, and which was loved and cherished by -Marie as the sole remaining object connected with Bouloinvilliers, and -the last thing her father had looked at on earth. The idea of parting -with this gave her grief which is better imagined than described; for, -although the furniture of the cottage undoubtedly belonged to Marie, her -husband knew too well that at a time when might was right, any steps -taken toward recovering its value would be not only fruitless, but -dangerous: he, therefore, never even attempted to assert their rights. - -One day, however, they had been without food or firing for nearly -twenty-four hours, and the little Cécile was fractious with hunger, -incessantly crying, "Du pain! du pain!" Marie rose, and approaching the -Virgin, said, "It is wicked to hesitate longer: go, Auguste, and sell it -for what you can get." - -She seized it hastily, as though afraid of changing her resolution, and -with such trepidation, that it slipped through her fingers, and broke in -two. Poor Marie sank upon her face at this sight, with a superstitious -feeling that she had meditated wrong, and was thus punished. She was -weeping bitterly, when her husband almost roughly raised her up, -exclaiming in joyful accents, "Marie, Marie, give thanks to God! Now I -know why your father pointed when he could not speak! Sorrow no more: we -are rich!" - -In the body of the statuette were found bills to the amount of fifteen -hundred francs--Marie's fortune, in fact, which her father had told the -chaplain he had amassed for her. We need not dwell upon the happiness of -this excellent couple, or the rapture, mingled with gratitude, in which -the remainder of this day was passed. Those who disapprove of -castle-building may perhaps blame them; for several castles they -constructed, on better foundations, however, than most of those who -spend their time in this pleasing but unprofitable occupation. Next day -they took a glazier's shop, stocked it, provided themselves with decent -clothing and furniture, and commenced their new life with equal -frugality and comfort--Marie doing her own work, and serving in the shop -when her husband was out engaged in business. But in time he was able to -hire an assistant, and she a young girl, to look after the children -while she pursued the avocation of a _couturière_, in which she soon -became very expert. The little image was fastened together again, placed -upon a white table, similar to that which used to stand in her -childhood's home, surrounded with flowers, and made, as of old, the -abode of sugar-plums and rewards of good conduct. But alas! there are -not many Maries in the world. In spite of her good example and good -teaching, her children would at times be naughty. They sometimes -quarreled, sometimes were greedy; and what vexed their simple-minded -mother more than all the rest, sometimes told stories of one another. -Still they were good children, as children go; and when the black screen -was superseded by punishments a little more severe, did credit to their -training. They were not permitted to play in the street, or to go to or -from school alone, or remain there after school-hours. Their father took -pains with their deportment, corrected false grammar, and recommended -the cultivation of habits more refined than people in his humble -although respectable position deem necessary. As their prosperity -increased, Marie was surprised to observe her husband devote all his -spare time to reading, and not only picture-cleaning and repairing, but -painting, in which he was such an adept, that he was employed to paint -several signs. - -"How did you learn so much?" she said one day. "Did your father teach -you?" - -"No; I went to school." - -"Then he was not so _very_ poor?" - -"He was very poor, but he lived in hopes that I might one day possess a -fortune." - -"It would seem as if he had a foreknowledge of what my little statue -contained?" - -"No, my love; he looked to it from another source; for a title without a -fortune is a misfortune." - -"A title! Nay, now you are playing with my simplicity." - -"No, Marie; I am the nephew of the Vicomte de ----, and for aught I -know, may be the possessor of that name at this moment--the legal heir -to his estate. My father, ruined by his extravagance, and, I grieve to -add, by his crimes, had caused himself to be disowned by all his -relations. He fled with me to Paris, where he soon after died, leaving -me nothing but his seal and his papers. I wrote to my uncle for -assistance; but although being then quite a boy, and incapable of having -personally given him offense, he refused it in the most cruel manner; -and I was left to my own resources at a time when my name and education -were rather a hindrance than a help, and I found no opening for entering -into any employment suited to my birth. My uncle had then two fine, -healthy, handsome boys; the youngest is dead; and the eldest, I heard -accidentally, in such a state of health that recovery is not looked for -by the most sanguine of his friends. I never breathed a word of all this -to you, because I never expected to survive my cousins, and resolved to -make an independent position for myself sooner or later. Do you remember -the other day an old gentleman stopping and asking some questions about -the coat of arms I was painting?" - -"Yes; he asked who had employed you to paint those arms, but I was -unable to inform him." - -"Well, my dear, he came again this morning to repeat the question to -myself; and I am now going to satisfy him, when I expect to bring you -some news." - -Marie was in a dream. Unlike gardeners' daughters of the present day, -she had read no novels or romances, and it appeared to her as impossible -that such an event should happen as that the cap on her head should turn -into a crown. It _did_ happen, however. The old gentleman, a distant -relation and intimate friend of the uncle of Auguste, had come to Paris, -at his dying request, to endeavor to find out his nephew and heir; and -the proofs Auguste produced were so plain, that he found no difficulty -in persuading M. B----de that he was the person he represented himself -to be. He very soon after went to Belgium, took legal possession of all -his rights, and returned to hail the gentle and long-suffering Marie as -Vicomtesse de ----, and conduct her and the children to a handsome -apartment in the Rue ----, dressed in habiliments suitable to her -present station, and looking as lady-like as if she had been born to -fill it. She lived long and happily, and continued the same pure, -humble-minded being she had ever been, whether blooming among the -flowers at Bouloinvilliers, or pining for want in a garret in the -Faubourg St. Antoine. Two of her daughters are alive now. Her son, after -succeeding to his father, died, without children, of the cholera, in -1832; and the son of his eldest sister has taken up the _title_, under a -different name, these matters not being very strictly looked after in -France. - - - - -[From Dickens's Household Words.] - -THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN. - - -Many travelers know the "Rutland Arms" at Bakewell, in the Peak of -Derbyshire. It is a fine large inn, belonging to his Grace of Rutland, -standing in an airy little market-place of that clean-looking little -town, and commanding from its windows pleasant peeps of the green hills -and the great Wicksop Woods, which shut out the view of Chatsworth, the -Palace of the Peak, which lies behind them. Many travelers who used to -traverse this road from the south to Manchester, in the days of long -coaches and long wintry drives, know well the "Rutland Arms," and will -recall the sound of the guard's bugle, as they whirled up to the door, -amid a throng of grooms, waiters, and village idlers, the ladder already -taken from its stand by the wall, and placed by the officious Boots in -towering position, ready, at the instant of the coach stopping, to clap -it under your feet, and facilitate your descent. Many travelers will -recall one feature of that accommodating inn, which, uniting -aristocratic with commercial entertainment, has two doors; one lordly -and large in front, to which all carriages of nobility, prelacy, and -gentility naturally draw up; and one at the end, to which all gigs, -coaches, mails, and still less dignified conveyances, as naturally are -driven. Our travelers will as vividly remember the passage which -received them at this entrance, and the room to the left, the -Travelers'-room, into which they were ushered. To that corner room, -having windows to the market-place in front, and one small peeping -window at the side, commanding the turn of the north road, and the -interesting arrivals at the secondary entrance, we now introduce our -readers. - -Here sat a solitary gentleman. He was a man apparently of -five-and-thirty; tall, considerably handsome; a face of the oval -character, nose a little aquiline, hair dark, eyebrows dark and strong, -and a light, clear, self-possessed look, that showed plainly enough that -he was a man of active mind, and well to do in the world. You would have -thought, from his gentlemanly air, and by no means commercial manner, -that he would have found his way in at the great front door, and into -one of the private rooms; but he came over night by the mail, and, on -being asked, on entering the house, by the waiter, to what sort of room -he would be shown, answered, carelessly and abruptly, "any where." - -Here he was, seated in the back left-hand corner of the room, a large -screen between himself and the door, and before him a table spread with -a goodly breakfast apparatus--coffee, eggs, fresh broiled trout from the -neighboring Weye, and a large round of corned beef, as a _dernier -ressort_. - -It was a morning as desperately and delugingly rainy as any that showery -region can send down. In the phrase of the country, it _siled_ down, or -run, as if through a sieve. Straight down streamed the plenteous -element, thick, incessant, and looking as if it would hold on the whole -day through. It thundered on the roof, beat a sonorous tune on porches -and projections of door and window, splashed in torrents on -window-sills, and streaming panes, and rushed along the streets in -rivers. The hills were hidden, the very fowls driven to roost--and not a -soul was to be seen out of doors. - -Presently there was a sound of hurrying wheels, a spring-cart came up to -the side door, with two men in it, in thick great coats, and with sacks -over their shoulders; one huge umbrella held over their heads, and they -and their horse yet looking three parts drowned. They lost no time in -pitching their umbrella to the hostler, who issued from the passage, -descending and rushing into the inn. In the next moment the two -countrymen, divested of their sacks and great coats, were ushered into -this room, the waiter, making a sort of apology, because there was a -fire there--it was in the middle of July. The two men, who appeared Peak -farmers, with hard hands, which they rubbed at the fire, and tanned and -weather-beaten complexions, ordered breakfast--of coffee and broiled -ham--which speedily made its appearance, on a table placed directly in -front of the before solitary stranger, between the side look-out window -and the front one. - -They looked, and were soon perceived by our stranger to be, father and -son. The old man, of apparently upward of sixty, was a middle-sized man, -of no Herculean mould, but well knit together, and with a face thin and -wrinkled as with a life-long acquaintance with care and struggle. His -complexion was more like brown leather than any thing else, and his -hair, which was thin and grizzled, was combed backward from his face, -and hung in masses about his ears. The son was much taller than the -father, a stooping figure, with flaxen hair, a large nose, light blue -eyes, and altogether a very gawky look. - -The old man seemed to eat with little appetite, and to be sunk into -himself, as if he was oppressed by some heavy trouble. Yet he every now -and then roused himself, cast an anxious look at his son, and said, -"Joe, lad, thou eats nothing." - -"No, fayther," was the constant reply; "I towd you I shouldn't. This -reen's enough te tak any body's appetite--and these t'other things," -casting a glance at the stranger. - -The stranger had, indeed, his eyes fixed curiously upon the two, for he -had been watching the consumptive tendency of the son; not in any cough -or hectic flush, or peculiar paleness, for he had a positively sunburnt -complexion of his own, but by the extraordinary power he possessed of -tossing down coffee and ham, with enormous pieces of toast and butter. -Under his operations, a large dish of broiled ham rapidly disappeared, -and the contents of the coffee-pot were in as active demand. Yet the old -man, ever and anon, looked up from his reverie, and repeated his -paternal observation: - -"Joe, lad, thou eats nothing!" - -"No, fayther," was still the reply; "I towd you I shouldn't. It's this -reen, and these t'other things"--again glancing at the stranger. - -Presently the broiled ham had totally vanished--there had been enough -for six ordinary men. And while the son was in the act of holding the -coffee-pot upside down, and draining the last drop from it, the old man -once more repeated his anxious admonition: "Joe, lad, thou eats -nothing!"--and the reply was still, "No, fayther, I towd you I -shouldn't. It's this reen, and these t'other things." - -This was accompanied by another glance at the stranger, who began to -feel himself very much in the way, but was no little relieved by the son -rising with his plate in his hand, and coming across the room, saying, -"You've a prime round of beef there, sir; might I trouble you for some?" - -"By all means," said the stranger, and carved off a slice of thickness -and diameter proportioned to what appeared to him the appetite of this -native of the Peak. This speedily disappeared; and as the son threw down -the knife and fork, the sound once more roused the old man, who added, -with an air of increased anxiety, "Joe, lad, thou eats nothing." - -"No, fayther," for the last time responded the son. "I towd you I -shouldn't. It's this reen, and this t'other matter--but I've done, and -so let's go." - -The father and son arose and went out. The stranger who had witnessed -this extraordinary scene, but without betraying any amusement at it, -arose, too, the moment they closed the door after them, and, advancing -to the window, gazed fixedly into the street. Presently the father and -son, in their great coats, and with their huge drab umbrella hoisted -over them, were seen proceeding down the market-place in the midst of -the still pouring rain, and the stranger's eyes followed them intently -till they disappeared in the winding of the street. He still stood for -some time, as if in deep thought, and then turning, rung the bell, -ordered the breakfast-things from his table, and producing a -writing-case, sat down to write letters. He continued writing, pausing -at intervals, and looking steadily before him as in deep thought, for -about an hour, when the door opened, and the Peak farmer and his son -again entered. They were in their wet and steaming greatcoats. The old -man appeared pale and agitated; bade the son see that the horse was put -in the cart, rung the bell, and asked what he had to pay. Having -discharged his bill, he continued to pace the room, as if unconscious of -the stranger, who had suspended his writing, and was gazing earnestly at -him. The old man frequently paused, shook his head despairingly, and -muttered to himself, "Hard man!--no fellow feeling!--all over! all -over!" With a suppressed groan, he again continued his pacing to and -fro. - -The stranger arose, approached the old man, and said, with a peculiarly -sympathizing tone, - -"Excuse me, sir, but you seem to have some heavy trouble on your mind; I -should be glad if it were any thing that were in my power to alleviate." - -The old man stopped suddenly--looked sternly at the stranger--seemed to -recollect, himself, and said rather sharply, as if feeling an -unauthorized freedom--"Sir!" - -"I beg pardon," said the stranger. "I am aware that it must seem strange -in me to address you thus; but I can not but perceive that something -distresses you, and it might possibly happen that I might be of use to -you." - -The old man looked at him for some time in silence, and then said, - -"I forgot any one was here; but you can be of no manner of use to me. I -thank you." - -"I am truly sorry for it; pray excuse my freedom," said the stranger -with a slight flush; "but I am an American, and we are more accustomed -to ask and communicate matters than is consistent with English reserve. -I beg you will pardon me." - -"You are an American?" asked the old man, looking at him. "You are quite -a stranger here?" - -"Quite so, sir," replied the stranger, with some little embarrassment. -"I was once in this country before, but many years ago." - -The old man still looked at him, was silent awhile, and then said, "You -can not help me, sir; but I thank you all the same, and heartily. You -seem really a very feeling man, and so I don't mind opening my mind to -you--I am a ruined man, sir." - -"I was sure you were in very deep trouble, sir," replied the stranger. -"I will not seek to peer into your affairs; but I deeply feel for you, -and would say that many troubles are not so deep as they seem. I would -hope yours are not." - -"Sir," replied the old man--the tears starting into his eyes, "I tell -you I am a ruined man. I am heavily behind with my rent, all my stock -will not suffice to pay it; and this morning we have been to entreat the -steward to be lenient, but he will not hear us; he vows to sell us up -next week." - -"That is hard," said the stranger. "But you are hale, your son is young; -you can begin the world anew." - -"Begin the world anew!" exclaimed the old man, with a distracted air. -"Where?--how? when? No, no! sir, there is no beginning anew in this -country. Those days are past. That time is past with me. And as for my -son: Oh, God! Oh, God! what shall become of him, for he has a wife and -family, and knows nothing but about a farm." - -"And there are farms still," said the stranger. - -"Yes; but at what rentals? and, then, where is the capital?" - -The old man grew deadly pale, and groaned. - -"In this country," said the stranger, after a deep silence, "I believe -these things are hard, but in mine they are not so. Go there, worthy old -man; go there, and a new life yet may open to you." - -The stranger took the old man's hand tenderly; who, on feeling the -stranger's grasp, suddenly, convulsively, caught the hand in both his -own, and shedding plentiful tears, exclaimed, "God bless you, sir; God -bless you for your kindness! Ah! such kindness is banished from this -country, but I feel that it lives in yours--but there!--no, no!--there I -shall never go. There are no means." - -"The means required," said the stranger, tears, too, glittering in his -eyes, "are very small. Your friends would, no doubt--" - -"No, no!" interrupted him the old man, deeply agitated; "there are no -friends--not here." - -"Then why should I not be a friend so far?" said the stranger. "I have -means--I know the country. I have somehow conceived a deep interest in -your misfortunes." - -"You!" said the old man, as if bewildered with astonishment; "you!--but -come along with us, sir. Your words, your kindness, comfort me; at least -you can counsel with us--and I feel it does me good." - -"I will go with all my heart," said the stranger. "You can not live far -from here. I will hence to Manchester, and I can, doubtless, make it in -my way." - -"Exactly in the way!" said the old man, in a tone of deep pleasure, and -of much more cheerfulness, "at least, not out of it to signify--though -not in the great highway. We can find you plenty of room, if you do not -disdain our humble vehicle." - -"I have heavy luggage," replied the stranger, ringing the bell. "I will -have a post-chaise, and you shall go in it with me. It will suit you -better this wet day." - -"Oh no! I can not think of it, sir," said the farmer. "I fear no rain. I -am used to it, and I am neither sugar nor salt. I shall not melt." - -The old man's son approached simultaneously with the waiter, to say that -the cart was ready. The stranger ordered a post-chaise to accompany the -farmer, at which the son stood with an open-mouthed astonished stare, -which would have excited the laughter of most people, but did not move a -muscle of the stranger's grave and kindly face. - -"This good gentleman will go with us," said the old man. - -"Oh, thank you, sir!" said the son, taking off his hat and making a low -bow, "you are heartily welcome; but it's a poor place, sir." - -"Never mind that," said the old man. "Let us be off and tell Millicent -to get some dinner for the gentleman." - -But the stranger insisted that the old man should stay and accompany him -in the chaise, and so the son walked off to prepare for their coming. -Soon the stranger's trunks were placed on the top of the chaise, and -the old man and he drove off. - -Their way was for some time along the great high-road; then they turned -off to the left, and continued their course up a valley till they -ascended a very stony road, which wound far over the swell of the hill, -and then approached a large gray stone house, backed by a wood that -screened it from the north and east. Far around, lay an immense view, -chiefly of green, naked, and undulating fields, intersected by stone -walls. No other house was near; and villages lying at several miles -distant, naked and gray on the uplands, were the only evidences of human -life. - -The house was large enough for a gentleman's abode, but there were no -neatly kept walks; no carefully cultivated shrubberies; no garden lying -in exquisite richness around it. There was no use made of the barns and -offices. There were no servants about. A troop of little children who -were in the field in front, ran into the house and disappeared. - -On entering the house, the stranger observed that its ample rooms were -very naked and filled only by a visible presence of stern indigence. The -woodwork was unpainted. The stone floors were worn, and merely sanded. -The room into which he was conducted, and where the table was already -laid for dinner, differed only in having the uncarpeted floor marked in -figures of alternating ochre and pipe-clay, and was furnished with a -meagre amount of humblest chairs and heavy oak tables, a little shelf of -books and almanacs, and a yellow-faced clock. A shabby and tired-looking -maid-servant was all the domestics seen within or without. - -Joe, the simple-looking son, received them, and the only object which -seemed to give a cheering impression to the stranger, was Joe's wife, -who presented herself with a deep courtesy. The guest was surprised to -see in her a very comely, fresh colored, and modestly sensible woman, -who received him with a kindly cordiality and native grace, which made -him wonder how such a woman could have allied herself to such a man. -There were four or five children about her, all evidently washed and put -into their best for his arrival, and who were pictures of health and -shyness. - -Mrs. Warilow took off the old man's great coat with an affectionate -attention, and drew his plain elbow chair, with a cushion covered with a -large-patterned check on its rush bottom, toward the fire; for there was -a fire, and that quite acceptable in this cold region after the heavy -rain. Dinner was then hastily brought in; Mrs. Warilow apologizing for -its simplicity, from the short notice she had received, and she might -have added from the painful news which Joe brought with him; for it was -very evident, though she had sought to efface the trace of it, by -copious washing, that she had been weeping. - -The old man was obviously oppressed by the ill result of his morning's -journey to the steward, and the position of his affairs. His -daughter-in-law cast occasional looks of affectionate anxiety at him, -and endeavored to help him in such a manner as to induce him to eat; but -appetite he had little. Joe played his part as valiantly as in the -morning; and the old man occasionally rousing from his reverie, again -renewed the observation of the breakfast-table. - -"Joe, lad, thou eats nothing;" adding too now, "Milly, my dear, thou -eats nothing. You eat nothing, sir. None of you have any appetite, and I -have none myself. God help me!" - -An ordinary stranger would scarcely have resisted a smile--none appeared -on the face of the guest. - -After dinner they drew to the fire, which consisted of large lumps of -coal burning under a huge beamed chimney. There a little table was set -with spirits and home-made wine, and the old man and Joe lit their -pipes, inviting the stranger to join them, which he did with right -good-will. There was little conversation, however; Joe soon said that he -must go over the lands to see that the cattle was all right; he did -more, and even slept in his chair, and the stranger proposed to Mrs. -Warilow a walk in the garden, where the afternoon sun was now shining -warmly. In his drive hither in the chaise, he had learned the exact -position of the old farmer. He was, as he had observed, so heavily in -arrear of rent, that his whole stock would not discharge it. When they -had seated themselves in the old arbor, he communicated his proposal to -her father-in-law to remove to America; observing, that he had conceived -so great a sympathy for him, that he would readily advance him the means -of conveying over the whole family. - -Mrs. Warilow was naturally much surprised at the disclosure. Such an -offer from a casual stranger, when all friends and family connections -had turned a deaf ear to all solicitations for aid, was something so -improbable that she could not realize it. "How can you, sir, a stranger -to us, volunteer so large a sum, which we may never be in a position to -repay?" - -The stranger assured her that the sum was by no means large. That to him -it was of little consequence, and that such was the scope for industry -and agricultural skill in America, that in a few years they could -readily refund the money. Here, from what the old gentleman had told him -of the new augmented rate of rental, there was no chance of recovering a -condition of ease and comfort. - -Mrs. Warilow seemed to think deeply on the new idea presented to her, -and then said, "Surely God has sent Mr. Vandeleur (so the stranger had -given his name), for their deliverance. Oh, sir!" added she, "what shall -we not owe you if by your means we can ever arrive at freedom from the -wretched trouble that now weighs us down. And oh! if my poor father -should ever, in that country, meet again his lost son!" - -"He has lost a son?" said the stranger, in a tone of deep feeling. - -"Ah, it is a sad thing, sir," continued Mrs. Warilow, "but it is that -which preys on father's mind. He thinks he did wrong in it, and he -believes that the blessing of Heaven has deserted him ever since. Sure -enough, nothing has prospered with him, and yet he feels that if the -young man lives he has not been blameless. He had not felt and forgiven -as a son should. But he can not be living--no, he can not for all these -years have borne resentment, and sent no part of his love or his fortune -to his family. It is not in the heart of a child to do that, except in a -very evil nature, and such was not that of this son." - -"Pray go on," said the stranger, "you interest me deeply." - -"This thing occurred twenty years ago. Mr. Warilow had two sons. The -eldest, Samuel, was a fine active youth, but always with a turn for -travel and adventure, which was very trying to his father's mind, who -would have his sons settle down in this their native neighborhood, and -pursue farming as their ancestors had always done. But his eldest son -wished to go to sea, or to America. He read a vast deal about that -country, of winter nights, and was always talking of the fine life that -might be led there. This was very annoying to his father, and made him -very angry, the more so that Joseph, the younger son, was a weakly lad, -and had something left upon him by a severe fever, as a boy, that seemed -to weaken his limbs and his mind. People thought he would be an idiot, -and his father thought that his eldest brother should stay and take care -of him, for it was believed that he would never be able to take care of -himself. But this did not seem to weigh with Samuel. Youths full of life -and spirit don't sufficiently consider such things. And then it was -thought that Samuel imagined that his father cared nothing for him, and -cared only for the poor weakly son. He might be a little jealous of -this, and that feeling once getting into people, makes them see things -different to what they otherwise would, and do things that else they -would not. - -"True enough, the father was always particularly wrapped up in Joseph. -He seemed to feel that he needed especial care, and he appeared to watch -over him and never have him out of his mind, and he does so to this day. -You have no doubt remarked, sir, that my husband is peculiar. He never -got over that attack in his boyhood, and he afterward grew very rapidly, -and it was thought he would have gone off in a consumption. It is -generally believed that he is not quite sharp in all things. I speak -freely to you, sir, and as long habit, and knowing before I married -Joseph what was thought of him, only could enable me to speak to one who -feels so kindly toward us. But it is not so--Joseph is more simple in -appearance than in reality. No, sir, he has a deal of sense, and he has -a very good heart; and it was because I perceived this that I was -willing to marry him, and to be a true help to him, and, sir, though we -have been very unfortunate, I have never repented it, and I never -shall." - -The stranger took Mrs. Warilow's hand, pressed it fervently, and said, -"I honor you, Madam--deeply, truly--pray go on. The eldest son left, you -say." - -"Oh yes, sir! Their mother died when the boys were about fifteen and -seventeen. Samuel had always been strongly attached to his mother, and -that, no doubt, kept him at home; but after that he was more restless -than ever, and begged the father to give him money to carry himself to -America. The father refused. They grew mutually angry; and one day, when -they had had high words, the father thought Samuel was disrespectful, -and struck him. The young man had a proud spirit. That was more than he -could bear. He did not utter a word in reply, but turning, walked out of -the house, and from that hour has never once been heard of. - -"His father was very angry with him, and for many years never spoke of -him but with great bitterness and resentment, calling him an unnatural -and ungrateful son. But of late years he has softened very much, and I -can see that it preys on his mind, and as things have gone against him, -he has come to think that it is a judgment on him for his hardness and -unreasonableness in not letting the poor boy try his fortune as he so -yearned to do. - -"Since I have been in the family, I have led him by degrees to talk on -this subject, and have endeavored to comfort him, telling him he had -meant well, and since, he had seen the thing in a different light. Ah, -sir! how differently we see things when our heat of mind is gone over, -and the old home heart begins to stir in us again. But, since he has -done this, and repented of it, God can not continue his anger, and so -that can not be the cause of his misfortunes. No, sir, I don't think -that--but things have altered very much of late years in this country. -The farms up in this Peak country used to be let very low, very low -indeed; and now they have been three several times valued and raised -since I can remember. People can not live on them now, they really can -not. Then the old gentleman, as farming grew bad, speculated in lead -mines, and that was much worse; he did not understand it, and was sorely -imposed on, and lost a power of money; oh! so much that it is a misery -to think of. Then, as troubles, they say, fly like crows in companies, -there came a very wet summer, and all the corn was spoiled. That put a -finish to father's hopes. He was obliged to quit the old farm where the -Warilows had been for ages, and that hurt him cruelly--it is like -shifting old trees, shifting old people is--they never take to the new -soil. - -"But as Joseph was extremely knowing in cattle, father took this -farm--it's a great grazing farm, sir, seven hundred acres, and we feeden -cattle. You would not believe it, sir, but we have only one man on this -farm besides Joseph and father." - -"It is very solitary," said the stranger. - -"Ah, sir, very, but that we don't mind--but it is a great burden, it -does not pay. Well, but as to the lost son. I came to perceive how -sorely this sat on father's mind, by noticing that whenever I used to -read in the old Bible, on the shelf in the house-place, there, that it -opened of itself at the Prodigal Son. A thought struck me, and so I -watched, and I saw that whenever the old gentleman read in it on -Sundays, he was always looking there. It was some time before I ventured -to speak about it; but, one day when father was wondering what could -have been Samuel's fate, I said, 'Perhaps, father, he will still come -home like the Prodigal Son in the Scripture, and if he does we'll kill -the fatted calf for him, and no one will rejoice in it more truly than -Joseph will.' - -"When I had said it, I wished I had not said it--for father seemed -struck as with a stake. He went as pale as death, and I thought he would -fall down in a fit; but, at last, he burst into a torrent of tears, and, -stretching out his arms, said, 'And if he does come, he'll find a -father's arms open to receive him.' - -"Ah, sir! it was hard work to comfort him again. I thought he would -never have got over it again; but, after that, he began at times to -speak of Samuel to me of himself, and we've had a deal of talk together -about him. Sometimes father thinks he is dead, and sometimes he thinks -he is not; and, true enough, of late years, there have come flying -rumors from America, from people who have gone out there, who have said -they have seen him there--and that he was a very great gentleman--they -were sure it was him. But then there was always something uncertain in -the account, and, above all, father said he never could believe that -Samuel was a great gentleman, and yet never could forgive an angry blow, -and write home through all these years. These things, sir, pull the old -man down, and, what with his other troubles, make me tremble to look -forward." - -Mrs. Warilow stopped, for she was surprised to hear a deep suppressed -sob from the stranger; and, turning, she saw him sitting with his -handkerchief before his face. Strange ideas shot across her mind. But at -this moment the old farmer, having finished his after-dinner nap, was -coming out to seek them. Mr. Vandeleur rose, wiped some tears from his -face, and thanked Mrs. Warilow for her communication. "You can not -imagine," he said, with much feeling, "how deeply you have touched me. -You can not believe how much what you have said resembles incidents in -my own life. Depend upon it, madam, your brother will turn up. I feel -strongly incited to help in it. We will have a search after him, if it -be from the St. Lawrence to the Red River. If he lives, he will be -found; and I feel a persuasion that he will be." - -They now met the old man, and all walked into the house. After tea, -there was much talk of America. Mr. Vandeleur related many things in his -own history. He drew such pictures of American life, and farming, and -hunting in the woods; of the growth of new families, and the prosperous -abundance in which the people lived; that all were extremely interested -in his account. Joe sate devouring the story with wonder, luxuriating -especially in the idea of those immense herds of cattle in the prairies; -and the old man even declared that there he should like to go and lay -his bones. "Perhaps," added he, "there I should, some day, find again my -Sam. But no, he must be dead, or he would have written: Many die in the -swamps and from fever, don't they, sir?" - -"Oh! many, many," said Mr. Vandeleur, "and yet there are often as -miraculous recoveries. For many years I was a government surveyor. It -was my business to survey new tracts for sale. I was the solitary -pioneer of the population; with a single man to carry my chain, and to -assist me in cutting a path through the dense woods. I lived in the -woods for years, for months seeing no soul but a few wandering Indians. -Sometimes we were in peril from jealous and savage squatters; sometimes -were compelled to flee before the monster grisly bear. I have a strange -fascinating feeling now of those days, and of our living for weeks in -the great caves in the White Mountains, since become the resort of -summer tourists, with the glorious 'Notch' glittering opposite, far -above us, and above the ancient woods. These were days of real hardship, -and we often saw sights of sad sorrow. Families making their way to -distant and wild localities, plundered by the inhuman squatters, or by -the Indians, and others seized by the still more merciless swamp fever, -perishing without help, and often all alone in the wilderness. - -"Ah! I remember now one case--it is nearly twenty years ago, but I never -can forget it. It was a young, thin man--he could scarcely be twenty. He -had been left by his party in the last stage of fever. They had raised a -slight booth of green bushes over him, and placed a pumpkin-shell of -water by his side, and a broken tea-cup to help himself with; but he was -too weak, and was fast sinking there all alone in that vast wilderness. -The paleness of death appeared in his sunken features, the feebleness of -death in his wasted limbs. He was a youth who, like many others, had -left his friends in Europe, and now longed to let them know his end. He -summoned his failing powers to give me a sacred message. He mentioned -the place whence he last came." - -"Where was it?" exclaimed the old man, in a tone of wild excitement. -"Where--what was it? It must be my Sam!" - -"No, that could not be," said the stranger, startled by the old man's -emotion; "it was not this place--it was--I remember it--it was another -name--Well--Well--Welland was the place." - -The old man gave a cry, and would have fallen from his chair, but the -stranger sprung forward and caught him in his arms. There was a moment's -silence, broken only by a deep groan from the old man, and a low murmur -from his lips, "Yes! I knew it--he is dead!" - -"No, no! he is not dead!" cried the stranger; "he lives--he recovered!" - -"Where is he, then? Where is my Sam? Let me know!" cried the old man, -recovering and standing wildly up--"I must see him!--I must to him!" - -"Father! father! it is Sam!" cried his son Joe; "I know him!--I know -him!--this is he!" - -"Where?--who?" exclaimed the father, looking round bewildered. - -"Here!" said the stranger, kneeling before the old man, and clasping his -hand and bathing it with tears. "Here, father, is your lost and unworthy -son. Father!--I return like the Prodigal Son. 'I have sinned before -Heaven and in thy sight; make me as one of thy hired servants.'" - -The old man clasped his son in his arms, and they wept in silence. - -But Joe was impatient to embrace his recovered brother, and he gave him -a hug as vigorous as one of those grisly bears that Sam had mentioned. -"Ah! Sam!" he said, "how I have wanted thee; but I always saw thee a -slim chap, such as thou went away, and now thou art twice as big, and -twice as old, and yet I knew thee by thy eyes." - -The two brothers cordially embraced, and the returned wanderer also -embraced his comely sister affectionately, and said, "You had nearly -found me out in the garden." - -"Ah, what a startle you gave me!" she replied, wiping away her tears; -"but this is so unexpected--so heavenly." She ran off, and returning -with the whole troop of her children, said, "There, there is your dear, -lost uncle!" - -The uncle caught them up, one after another, and kissed them -rapturously. - -"Do you know," said the mother, laying her hand on the head of the -eldest boy, a fine, rosy-looking fellow, "what name this has? It is -Samuel Warilow! We did not forget the one that was away." - -"He will find another Samuel in America," said his uncle, again -snatching him up, "and a Joe, and a Thomas, the grandfather's name. My -blessed mother there lives again in a lovely blue-eyed girl; and should -God send me another daughter, there shall be a Millicent, too!" - -Meantime, the old man stood gazing insatiably on his son. "Ah, Sam!" -said he, as his son again turned, and took his hand, "I was very hard to -thee, and yet thou hast been hard to us, too. Thou art married, too, -and, with all our names grafted on new stems, thou never wrote to us. It -was not well." - -"No, father, it was not well. I acknowledge my fault--my great fault; -but let me justify myself. I never forgot you; but for many years I was -a wanderer, and an unsuccessful man. My pride would not let me send, -under these circumstances, to those who had always said that I should -come to beggary and shame. Excuse me, that I mention these hard words. -My pride was always great; and those words haunted me. - -"But at length, when Providence had blessed me greatly, I could endure -it no longer. I determined to come and seek forgiveness and -reconciliation; and, God be praised! I have found both. We will away -home together, father. I have wealth beyond all my wants and wishes; my -greatest joy will be to bestow some of it on you. My early profession of -a surveyor gave me great opportunities of perceiving where the tide of -population would direct itself, and property consequently rise rapidly -in value. I therefore purchased vast tracts for small sums, which are -now thickly peopled, and my possessions are immense. I am a member of -Congress." - -The next day, the two brothers drove over to Bakewell, where Joe had the -satisfaction to see the whole arrears paid down to the astonished -steward, on condition that he gave an instant release from the farm; and -Joe ordered, at the auctioneer's, large posters to be placarded in all -the towns and villages of the Peak, and advertisements to be inserted in -all the principal papers of the Midland counties, of the sale of his -stock that day fortnight. - -We have only to record that it sold well, and that the Warilows of -Welland, and more recently of Scarthin Farm, are now flourishing on -another and more pleasant Welland on the Hudson. There is a certain -tall, town-like house which the traveler sees high on a hill among the -woods, on the left bank of the river, as the steamer approaches the -Catskill Mountains. There live the Warilows; and, far back on the rich -slopes that lie behind the mountains, and in richer meadows, surrounded -by forests and other hills, rove the flocks and herds of Joe; and there -comes Squire Sam, when the session at Washington is over, and, -surrounded by sons and nephews, ranges the old woods, and shoots the -hill-turkey and the roe. There is another comely and somewhat matronly -lady sitting with the comely and sunny-spirited Millicent, the happy -mistress of the new Welland; and a little Millicent tumbles on the -carpet at their feet. The Warilows of Welland all bless the Prodigal -Son, who, unlike the one of old, came back rich to an indigent father, -and made the old man's heart grow young again with joy. - - - - -[From Sharpe's Magazine.] - -THE LIGHT OF HOME. - - -It was years ago when we first became acquainted with Lieutenant -Heathcote, an old half-pay officer who resided with his young -grand-daughter in a tiny cottage. It was a very humble place, for they -were poor; but it was extremely pretty, and there were many comforts, -even elegances, to be found in the small rooms. The old gentleman -delighted in cultivating the garden; the window of the sitting-room -opened on it, and beneath this window, grew the choicest roses and -pinks, so that the atmosphere of the apartment was in summer laden with -their fragrance. The furniture was poor enough. Mrs. ---- of ---- Square -would have said with a genteel sneer, that "all the room contained was -not worth five sovereigns." To her--no! but to the simple hearted -inmates of the cottage every chair and table was dear from long -association, and they would not have exchanged them for all the grandeur -of Mrs. ----'s drawing-room suite, albeit her chairs were of inlaid -rosewood, and cost six guineas apiece. - -If you went into that little humbly-furnished parlor about four o'clock -on a summer's afternoon, you would find Lieutenant Heathcote seated in -his easy chair (wheeled by careful hands to the precise angle of the -window that he liked), his spectacles on, and the broad sheet of the -newspaper spread before him. Occasionally he puts down the newspaper for -awhile, and then his eyes rove restlessly about the room, till at length -they light on the figure of his unconscious grand-daughter. Once there, -they stay a good while, and when they turn to the newspaper again, there -is a serene light in them, as though what they had seen had blessed -them. - -Yet an ordinary gazer would have found little or nothing attractive in -the appearance of Rose Heathcote, for she was but a homely, -innocent-looking girl, such as we meet with every day of our lives. Her -eyes were neither "darkly blue," nor "densely black," her tresses -neither golden, nor redundant. She had, to be sure, a sufficient -quantity of dark brown hair, which was very soft and pleasant to touch, -her grandfather thought, when he placed his hand caressingly on her -head, as he loved to do: and this hair was always prettily -arranged--braided over her forehead in front, and twisted into a thick -knot behind--a fashion which certainly showed to advantage the graceful -form of her head, the solitary beauty, speaking critically, which the -young girl possessed. However, Lieutenant Heathcote thought his little -Rose the prettiest girl in the world. Eyes that look with love, lend -beauty to what they gaze on. And no one who knew Rose as she was in her -home, could fail to love her. - -She was always up with the lark, and busied in various employments till -her grandfather came down to breakfast. Then she poured out the tea, cut -the bread-and-butter, or made the toast, talking and laughing the while, -in the spontaneous gayety of her heart. To eke out their little income, -she had pupils who came to her every morning, and whom she taught all -she knew, with a patient earnest zeal that amply compensated for her -deficiency in the showy accomplishments of the day. So, after breakfast, -the room was put in order, the flowers were watered, the birds were -tended, grandpapa was made comfortable in his little study, and then the -school books, the slates and copy-books were placed in readiness for the -little girls: and then they came, and the weary business began, of -English history, geography, arithmetic, and French verbs. The children -were not very clever--sometimes, indeed, they were absolutely stupid, -and obstinate, moreover; they must have tried her patience very often; -but a harsh rebuke never issued from her lips: it was a species of -selfishness in her not to chide them, for if she did so, though ever so -mildly, the remembrance of it pained her gentle heart all day, and she -was not quite happy until the little one was kissed and forgiven again. - -The children loved her very much and her pupils gradually increased in -number. Dazzling visions danced before her eyes, visions of wealth -resulting from her labors; yes, wealth! for, poor innocent, the four or -five golden sovereigns she had already put by, _her first earnings_, -multiplied themselves wonderfully in her sanguine dreams. She had -magnificent schemes floating in her little brain of luxuries to be -obtained with this money--luxuries for her grandfather; a new easy -chair, cushioned sumptuously, and a new pair of spectacles, gold -mounted, and placed in a case of her own embroidery. Thoughts of -possible purchases for her own peculiar enjoyment sometimes intruded. -There was a beautiful geranium she would like, and a new cage for her -bird--a new bonnet, even for herself; for Rose was not free from a -little spice of womanly vanity, which is excusable, nay, lovable, -because it is so womanly, and she was quite susceptible of the pleasure -most young girls feel in seeing themselves prettily dressed. - -That these dreams might be realized, Rose worked hard. She sat up late -at night, arranging the exercises and lessons of her pupils, and rose -early in the morning, in order that none of her household duties should -be neglected. And in the course of time, this unceasing exertion began -to injure her health, for she was not strong, although, hitherto, she -had been but little prone to ailments. One morning she arose languid, -feverish, and weak; she was compelled to give herself a holiday, and all -day she lay on the sofa in the sitting-room, in a kind of dreamy yet -restless languor she had never felt before. Her grandfather sat beside -her, watching and tending her with all the care of a mother, reading -aloud from her favorite books, ransacking his memory for anecdotes to -amuse her, and smiling cheerfully when she raised her heavy eyes to his. -But when she fell into a fitful doze, the old man's countenance changed; -an indefinable look of agony and doubt came over his features; and -involuntarily, as it seemed, he clasped his hands, while his lips moved -as if in prayer. He was terrified by this strange illness; for the first -time, the idea occurred to him that his darling might be taken away from -him. The young sometimes left the world before the old, unnatural as it -seemed; what if she should die? We always magnify peril when it comes -near our beloved, and the old man gradually worked himself into a frenzy -of anxiety respecting his child. The next day she was not better--a -doctor was sent for, who prescribed rest and change of air if possible, -assuring Lieutenant Heathcote that it was no serious disorder--she had -overworked herself, that was all. - -It was the summer time, and some of Rose's pupils were about to proceed -to the sea-side. Hearing of their dear Miss Heathcote's illness, they -came to invite her to go with them, and the grandfather eagerly and -joyfully accepted the offer for her, although she demurred a little. She -did not like to leave him alone; she could not be happy, she said, -knowing he would be dull and lonely without her; but her objections were -overruled, and she went with her friends, the Wilsons. - -It was pleasant to see the old man when he received her daily epistles. -How daintily he broke the envelope, so as not to injure the little seal, -and how fondly he regarded the delicate handwriting. The letters brought -happier tidings every day; she was better, she was much better, she was -well, she was stronger and rosier than ever, and enjoying herself much. -Those letters--long, beautiful letters they were--afforded the old man -his chief pleasure now. His home was very desolate while she was away; -the house looked changed, the birds sang less joyously, and the flowers -were not so fragrant. Every morning he attended to her pets, himself, -and then he wandered about the rooms, taking up her books, her papers, -and her various little possessions, and examining the contents of her -work-basket with childish curiosity. In the twilight he would lean back -in his chair, and try to fancy she was in the room with him. Among the -shadows, it was easy to imagine her figure, sitting as she used to sit, -with drooped head and clasped hands, thinking. At these times, her -letter received that morning, was taken from his bosom and kissed, and -then the simple, loving old man would go to bed and dream of his -grandchild. - -At length she came home. She rushed into her grandfather's arms with a -strange eagerness: it was as if she sought there a refuge from peril; as -if she fled to him for succor and comfort in some deep trouble. Poor -Rose! she wept so long and so passionately; it could scarce have been -all for joy. - -"Darling! you are not sorry to come home, are you?" - -"Oh no! so glad, so very, very glad!" and then she sobbed again, so -convulsively, that the old man grew alarmed, and as he tried to soothe -her into calmness, he gazed distrustfully in her face. Alas! there was a -look of deep suffering on her pale features that he had never seen there -before; there was an expression of hopeless woe in her eyes, which it -wrung his loving heart to behold. - -"Rose!" he cried, in anguish, "what has happened? you are changed!" - -She kissed him tenderly, and strove to satisfy him by saying, that it -was only the excitement of her return home that made her weep; she would -be better the next morning, she said. But she was not better then. From -the day of her return she faded away visibly. It was evident, and _he_ -soon saw it, that some grief had come to her, which her already weakened -frame was unable to bear. He remembered, only too well, that her mother -had died of consumption, and when he saw her gradually grow weaker day -by day, the hectic on her cheek deepen, and her hands become thin till -they were almost transparent, all hope died in his heart, and he could -only pray that heaven would teach him resignation, or take him too, when -_she_ went. - -For a little while, Rose attempted to resume her teaching, but she was -soon compelled to give up. Only, till the last she flitted about the -cottage, performing her household duties as she had ever done, and being -as she had ever been, the presiding spirit of the home that was so dear -to her grandfather. In the winter evenings, too, they sat together, she -in her olden seat at his feet, looking into the fire, and listening to -the howling wind without, neither speaking, except at rare intervals, -and then in a low and dreamy tone that harmonized with the time. One -evening they had sat thus for a long time, the old man clasping her -hands, while her head rested on his knee. The fire burned low and gave -scarcely any light; the night was stormy, and the wind blew a hurricane. -At every blast he felt her tremble. - -"God help those at sea," he cried, with a sudden impulse. - -"Amen, Amen!" said Rose, solemnly, and though she started and shivered -when he spoke, she kissed his hands afterward, almost as if in -gratitude. - -There was a long pause; then she lifted her head, and said in a very low -voice: "Remember, dear grandpapa, if at any time, by-and-by, you should -feel inclined to be angry, vexed, with--any one--because of me; you are -to forgive them, for my sake: for my sake, my own grandpapa.--Promise!" - -He did so, and she wound her arms lovingly round his neck, and kissed -his brows, as of old she had done every night before retiring to rest. -And then her head sunk on his shoulder, and she wept. In those tears how -much was expressed that could find no other utterance! the lingering -regret to die that the young must ever feel, even when life is most -desolate; the tender gratitude for the deep love her grandfather had -ever borne her; sorrow for him, and for herself! And he, silent and -tearless as he sat, understood it all, and blessed her in his heart. - -The next day she died quietly, lying on her little bed, with her pale -hands meekly folded on her breast; for her last breath exhaled in prayer -for her grandfather--and one other. It happened that the Wilsons and -some other acquaintances came in the evening to inquire how she was. For -sole reply, Lieutenant Heathcote, whose tearless eyes and rigid lips -half frightened them, led them where she lay. They retired, weeping, -subdued, and sad, and as they were leaving the cottage, he heard Mrs. -Wilson say to her friend, while she dried her eyes: "Poor girl, poor -girl! She was very amiable, we all liked her exceedingly. I am afraid -though, on one occasion, I was rather harsh to her, and, poor child, she -seemed to take it a good deal to heart. But the fact was, that our -Edward, I half fancied"--there followed a whispering, and then, in a -louder tone--"but his father, thinking with me, sent him off to sea, and -there was an end of the matter." - -An end of the matter! Alas! think of the bereaved old man, wandering -about his desolate abode, _home_ to him no longer; with the sad, wistful -look on his face of one who continually seeks something that is not -there. The cottage, too, was very different now to what it had been; the -_home_ that was so beautiful was gone with her. He set her little bird -at liberty the day she died; he could not bear to hear it singing, -joyously as when _she_ had been there to listen. But for this, the -parlor always remained in the same state it was in on that last evening. -The empty cage in the window, a bunch of withered flowers on a chair -where they had fallen from her bosom, and the book she had been reading, -open at the very page she had left off. Every morning the old man stole -into the room to gaze around on these mute memorials of his lost -darling. This was the only solace of his life now, and we may imagine -what it cost him to leave it. But when they came and told him he must -give up possession of his cottage, that it was to be razed to the ground -shortly, he only remonstrated feebly, and finally submitted. He was old, -and he hoped to die soon, but death does not always come to those -longing for it. He may be living yet, for aught we know; but he has -never been heard of in his old neighborhood for years, and we may hope -that he is happier, that he has at length gone home to _her_. - - - - -[From Dickens's Household Words.] - -HOW WE WENT WHALING OFF THE CAPE OF GOOD HOPE. - - -At Algoa Bay, in the eastern provinces of the Cape Colony, there is, and -has been for thirty years, a whaling establishment. By what instinct -these monsters of the deep ascertain the settlement of man on the shores -they frequent, it would be difficult to say. But that they do so, and -that they then comparatively desert such coasts is undoubted. Where one -whale is now seen off the southeastern coast of Africa, twenty were seen -in former times, when the inhabitants of the country were few. It is the -same in New Zealand, and every other whale-frequented coast. -Nevertheless, the whaling establishment I have mentioned is still kept -up in Algoa Bay--and with good reason. _One_ whale per annum will pay -all the expenses and outgoings of its maintenance; every other whale -taken in the course of a year is a clear profit. - -The value of a whale depends, of course, upon its size--the average is -from three hundred pounds to six hundred pounds. The establishment in -Algoa Bay consists of a stone-built house for the residence of the -foreman, with the coppers and boiling-houses attached; a wooden -boat-house, in which are kept three whale-boats, with all the lines and -tackle belonging to them; and a set of javelins, harpoons, and -implements for cutting up the whales' carcases. Then, there are a boat's -crew of picked men, six in number, besides the coxswain and the -harpooner. There are seldom above two or three whales taken in the -course of a year; occasionally not one. - -The appearance of a whale in the bay is known immediately, and great is -the excitement caused thereby in the little town of Port Elizabeth, -close to which the whaling establishment is situated. It is like a -sudden and unexpected gala, got up for the entertainment of the -inhabitants, with nothing to pay. - -A treat of this sort is suddenly got up by the first appearance of a -whale in those parts. Tackle-boats and men are got ready in a twinkling. -We jump into the stern-sheets of the boat. Six weather-beaten, muscular -tars are at work at the oars, and there, in the bows, stands the -harpooner, preparing his tackle; a boy is by his side. Coils of line lie -at their feet, with harpoons attached to them, and two or three spears -or javelins. - -"Pull away, boys; there she blows again!" cries the coxswain, and at -each stroke the strong men almost lift the little craft out of the -water. The harpooner says nothing; he is a very silent fellow; but woe -to the unlucky whale that comes within the whirl of his unerring -harpoon! - -Meantime, our fat friend of the ocean is rolling himself about, as if -such things as harpoons never existed; as if he were an infidel in -javelins. We are approaching him, a dozen more strokes and we shall be -within aim. Yet the harpooner seems cool and unmoved as ever; he holds -the harpoon it is true, but he seems to grasp it no tighter, nor to make -any preparation for a strike. He knows the whale better than we -do--better than his crew. He has been a harpooner for thirty years, and -once harpooned twenty-six whales in one year with his own hand. He was -right not to hurry himself, you see, for the whale has at last caught -sight of us, and has plunged below the surface. - -Now, however, the harpooner makes an imperceptible sign to the coxswain. -The coxswain says, "Give way, boys," scarcely above his breath, and the -boat skims faster than ever over the waves. The harpooner's hand -clutches more tightly the harpoon, and he slowly raises his arm; his -mouth is compressed, but his face is as calm as ever. A few yards ahead -of us a wave seems to swell above the others--"Whiz"--at the very moment -you catch sight of the whale's back again above the water, the harpoon -is in it eighteen inches deep, hurled by the unerring arm of the silent -harpooner. - -The red blood of the monster gushes forth, "incarnadining" (as Macbeth -says) the waves. "Back water," shouts the harpooner, as the whale -writhes with the pain, and flings his huge body about with force enough -to submerge twenty of our little crafts at one blow. But he has plunged -down again below the surface, and the pace at which he dives you may -judge of, by the wonderful rapidity with which the line attached to the -harpoon runs over the bows of the boat. Now, too, you see the use of the -boy who is bailing water from the sea in a small bucket, and pouring it -incessantly over the edge of the boat where the line runs, or in two -minutes the friction would set fire to it. - -You begin to think the whale is never coming back; but the crew know -better. See too, the line is running out more slowly every instant; it -ceases altogether now, and hangs slackly over the boat's side. He is -coming up exhausted to breathe again. There are a few moments of -suspense, during which the harpooner is getting ready and poising one of -the javelins. It is longer, lighter, and sharper than the harpoon, but -it has no line attached to it. The harpoon is to catch--the javelin to -kill. Slowly the whale rises again, but he is not within aim. "Pull -again boys"--while the boy is hauling in the line as fast as he can. We -are near enough now. Again a whiz--again another--and the harpooner has -sent two javelins deep into the creature's body; while the blood flows -fast. Suddenly, the whale dashes forward. No need of pulling at the oars -now; we are giving him fresh line as fast as we can, yet he is taking us -through the water at the rate of twenty miles an hour at least. One -would fancy that the harpoons and the javelins have only irritated him, -and that the blood he has lost has diminished nothing of his strength. -Not so, however; the pace slackens now: we are scarcely moving through -the water. - -"Pull again, boys," and we approach; while another deadly javelin -pierces him. This time he seems to seek revenge. He dashes toward -us--what can save us? - -"Back water," cries the harpooner, while the coxswain taking the hint at -the same moment, with a sweep of his oar the little boat performs a kind -of curvet backward, and the monster has shot past us unharming, but not -unharmed; the harpooner, cool as ever, has hurled another javelin deep -into him, and smiles half pityingly at this impotent rage, which, he -knows full well, bodes a termination of the contest. The red blood is -spouting forth from four wounds, "neither as deep as a well, nor as wide -as a church-door," but _enough_ to kill--even a whale. He rolls over -heavily and slowly; a few convulsive movements shake his mighty frame; -then he floats motionless on the water--and the whale is dead! - -Ropes are now made fast round him, and he is slowly towed away to shore, -opposite the whaling establishment. A crowd is collected to see his huge -body hauled up on to the beach, and to speculate on his size and value. -In two days all his blubber is cut away and melting in the coppers. -Vultures are feeding on his flesh, and men are cleansing his bones. In -two months, barrels of his oil are waiting for shipment to England. The -fringe-work which lined his mouth, and which we call whalebone, is ready -for the uses to which ladies apply it. His teeth, which are beautiful -ivory, are being fashioned into ornaments by the turner; and his immense -ribs are serving as landmarks on the different farms about the country, -for which purpose they are admirably adapted. Meanwhile our friend the -harpooner and his crew are reposing on their laurels, and looking out -for fresh luck; while the proprietor of the establishment is five -hundred pounds the richer from this "catching a whale." - - - - -HYDROPHOBIA. - - -M. Buisson has written to the Paris Academy of Sciences, to claim as -his, a small treatise on hydrophobia, addressed to the academy so far -back as 1835, and signed with a single initial. The case referred to in -that treatise was his own. The particulars, and the mode of cure -adopted, were as follows:--He had been called to visit a woman who, for -three days, was said to be suffering under this disease. She had the -usual symptoms--constriction of the throat, inability to swallow, -abundant secretion of saliva, and foaming at the mouth. Her neighbors -said that she had been bitten by a mad dog about forty days before. At -her own urgent entreaties, she was bled, and died a few hours after, as -was expected. - -M. Buisson, who had his hands covered with blood, incautiously cleansed -them with a towel which had been used to wipe the mouth of the patient. -He then had an ulceration upon one of his fingers, yet thought it -sufficient to wipe off the saliva that adhered, with a little water. The -ninth day after, being in his cabriolet, he was suddenly seized with a -pain in his throat, and one, still greater, in his eyes. The saliva was -continually pouring into his mouth; the impression of a current of air, -the sight of brilliant bodies, gave him a painful sensation; his body -appeared to him so light that he felt as though he could leap to a -prodigious height. He experienced, he said, a wish to run and bite, not -men, but animals and inanimate bodies. Finally, he drank with -difficulty, and the sight of water was still more distressing to him -than the pain in his throat. These symptoms recurred every five minutes, -and it appeared to him as though the pain commenced in the affected -finger, and extended thence to the shoulder. - -From the whole of the symptoms, he judged himself afflicted with -hydrophobia, and resolved to terminate his life by stifling himself in a -vapor bath. Having entered one for this purpose, he caused the heat to -be raised to 107° 36" Fahr., when he was equally surprised and delighted -to find himself free of all complaint. He left the bathing-room well, -dined heartily, and drank more than usual. Since that time, he says, he -has treated in the same manner more than eighty persons bitten, in four -of whom the symptoms had declared themselves; and in no case has he -failed, except in that of one child, seven years old, who died in the -bath. The mode of treatment he recommends is, that the person bit should -take a certain number of vapor baths (commonly called Russian), and -should induce every night a violent perspiration, by wrapping himself in -flannels, and covering himself with a feather-bed; the perspiration is -favored by drinking freely of a warm decoction of sarsaparilla. He -declares, so convinced is he of the efficacy of his mode of treatment, -that he will suffer himself to be inoculated with the disease. As a -proof of the utility of copious and continual perspiration, he relates -the following anecdote: A relative of the musician Gretry was bitten by -a mad dog, at the same time with many other persons, who all died of -hydrophobia. For his part, feeling the first symptoms of the disease, he -took to dancing, night and day, saying that he wished to die gayly. He -recovered. M. Buisson also cites the old stories of dancing being a -remedy for the bite of a tarantula; and draws attention to the fact, -that the animals in whom this madness is most frequently found to -develop itself spontaneously, are dogs, wolves, and foxes, which never -perspire. - - - - -THE DOOM OF THE SLAVER. - -AN ENGLISH STORY OF THE AFRICAN BLOCKADE. - - -On a glorious day, with a bright sun and a light breeze, Her Majesty's -brig Semiramis stood along under easy sail, on a N.W. course up the -Channel of Mozambique. Save the man at the wheel and the "look-outs" in -the tops, every one seemed taking it easy. And indeed there was no -inducement to exertion; for the sky was cloudless, and the temperature -of that balmy warmth that makes mere existence a luxury. The men, -therefore, continued their "yarns" as they lounged in little groups -about the deck; the middies invented new mischief, or teased the cook; -the surgeon divided his time between watching the flying-fish and -reading a new work on anatomy (though he never turned a fresh page); -while the lieutenant of the watch built "châteux-en-Espagne," or -occasionally examined, with his telescope, the blue hills of Madagascar -in the distance. - -"Sail ho!" shouted the look-out in the foretop. - -"Where away?" cried the lieutenant, springing to his feet, while at the -same moment every man seemed to have lost his listlessness, and to be -eager for action of any kind. - -"Over the starboard quarter, making sou' west." - -The captain hastened on deck, while the second lieutenant ran aloft to -have a look at the strange craft. - -"What do you make her out, Mr. Saunders?" asked the captain. - -"A fore-and-aft schooner, hull down." - -"'Bout ship," cried the captain; and in an instant every man was at his -post. - -"Helm's a lee--raise tacks and sheets"--"mainsail haul," &c.; and in -five minutes the Semiramis was standing in pursuit of the stranger, -while the men were employed in "cracking on" all sail to aid in the -chase. - -What is it that makes a chase of any kind so exciting? The indescribable -eagerness which impels human nature to hunt any thing huntable is not -exaggerated in "Vathek," in which the population of a whole city is -described as following in the chase of a black genie, who rolled himself -up into a ball and trundled away before them, attracting even the halt -and the blind to the pursuit. But who shall describe the excitement of a -chase at sea? How eagerly is every eye strained toward the retreating -sails! how anxiously is the result of each successive heaving of the log -listened for! how many are the conjectures as to what the stranger ahead -may prove to be! and how ardent are the hopes that she may turn out a -prize worth taking! For be it remembered that, unlike the chase of a fox -on land, where no one cares for the object pursued, cupidity is enlisted -to add to the excitement of a chase at sea. Visions of prize-money float -before the eyes of every one of the pursuers, from the captain to the -cabin-boy. - -The Semiramis, being on the tack she had now taken, considerably to the -windward of the stranger, there was every chance of her soon overtaking -her, provided the latter held the course she was now steering. But who -could hope that she would do that! Indeed, all on board the brig -expected every moment to hear that she was lying off and running away. -If she did not do so, it would be almost a proof that she was engaged in -lawful commerce, and not what they had expected, and, in truth, hoped. - -An hour had passed; and the Semiramis had visibly gained on the -schooner; so much so, that the hull of the latter, which was long, low, -black, and rakish-looking, could now be seen from the brig's tops. - -"Surely they must see us," said the captain. - -"She's just the build of the Don Pedro we took off this coast," said the -second lieutenant, from the maintop. - -"I hope she will turn out a better prize," replied the captain. - -The truth is, they had captured that same Don Pedro, condemned her, and -broken her up. The captain and owners of her had appealed; proved to the -satisfaction of the Admiralty that she was _not_ engaged in the slave -trade; and, consequently, every man on board the Semiramis who had -assisted at her capture, was obliged to cash up his quota of "damages" -instead of pocketing prize-money. The Don Pedro, therefore, was a sore -subject on board the Semiramis. - -Another hour elapsed: the hull of the schooner began to be visible from -the deck of the cruiser. She was a wicked-looking craft; and Jack -slapped his pockets in anticipation of the cash she would bring into -them. - -"Well, it's odd she don't alter course, anyhow," said the boatswain on -the forecastle; "may be she wants to throw us off the scent, by -pretending to be all right and proper, and not to have a notion that we -can be coming after her." - -"Show the colors," cried the captain on the quarter-deck; "let's see -what flag she sports." - -The British ensign was soon floating from the Semiramis; but the -schooner at first showed no colors in reply. - -Presently the first lieutenant, who was watching her through the glass, -cried out, "Brazilian by Jove!" - -There was a short pause. Every sort of spy-glass in the ship was in -requisition. Every eye was strained to its utmost visual tension. The -captain broke the silence with "Holloa! She's easing off; going to run -for it at last." - -"She's a _leetle_ too late," said the lieutenant. "Before the wind these -fore-and-aft schooners are tubs, though _on_ the wind they're clippers." - -However, it was clear that the schooner had at last resolved to run for -her life. By going off with the wind she got a good start of the brig; -and, although it was her worst point of sailing, still the breeze was so -light that, while it suited her, it was insufficient to make the heavier -brig sail well. - -For three hours the chase continued, and neither vessel seemed to gain -on the other; but the breeze was now freshening, and the Semiramis at -length began to diminish the distance between herself and the Brazilian. -Right ahead, in the course they were pursuing, lay a point of land -projecting far into the sea, and the chart showed a tremendous reef of -rocks extending some three miles beyond it. It was certain that neither -vessels could clear the reef, if they held the course they were then -steering. - -"Keep her a little more to windward," cried the captain. "We shall have -her; she will be obliged to haul up in about an hour's time, and then -she can't escape, as we shall be well to windward." - -The hour went by; and still the schooner showed no signs of altering her -course. The captain of the Semiramis again examined his charts; but the -reef was clearly laid down, and it seemed utterly impossible that the -schooner could weather it by the course she was then steering. Yet, -either from ignorance of the danger, or from the determination to brave -it, she tried; knowing that if she escaped it and cleared the point, she -would have gained an immense advantage over her pursuers. - -It would be impossible to describe the anxiety with which all on board -the Semiramis now watched the little Brazilian. She was literally -rushing into the jaws of destruction; and, as she rose over each -successive wave, it seemed as if she must be dashed on the treacherous -reef at the next dip. Still she stood bravely on; and, though doubtless -the lips of those on board her might be quivering at that moment in the -agony of suspense, the little craft looked so beautiful, and sailed so -gayly, her white sails and slender spars flashing in the sunlight that -even her pursuers mentally prayed for her safety, quite irrespective of -the prize-money they would lose by her destruction on the rocks. Jack -does not like to see a pretty craft run ashore, at any price. - -They began almost to think the schooner "bore a charmed life;" for she -seemed to be floating over the very reef itself, and the white foam of -the breakers could be seen all round her. - -"Blessed, if I don't think she's the Flying Dutchman," said one blue -jacket to another. - -"Gammon, Bill--ain't we round the Cape? and don't you know that's just -where the Flying Dutchman never could get to?" replied his messmate. - -The little schooner bounded onward merrily--suddenly she staggers, and -every spar shivers. - -"She has struck!" cried twenty voices at once. - -Now she rises with a coming wave, and now she settles down again with a -violence that brings her topmasts on the deck. - -"Out with the boats," is the order on board the Semiramis, and the men -fly to execute it. - -Another wave lifts the schooner--another fearful crash--she rolls -over--her decks are rent asunder--her crew are struggling in the -water--and with them (every man shudders at the sight) hundreds of -negroes, manacled to each other and fettered to the lower deck, are shot -out into the foam. - -Bravely pulled the seamen in the boats of the Semiramis; but two strong -swimmers, who had fought their way through the boiling surf were all -they saved. So slight was the build of the little schooner that she had -gone to pieces instantly on striking; and, within sight of the -Semiramis, within hearing of the death-shrieks that rent the air from -_six hundred and thirty human beings_, who, shackled together with heavy -irons, were dashed among the waters, and perished a slow and helpless -death, two only of their jailers survived to tell of the number that had -sunk! - -Surely this sad tale may at least be added to the catalogue of ills -produced by England's "good intentions" in striving to suppress the -slave trade. - - - - -INDUSTRY OF THE INSANE. - - -The change that has taken place of late years in the treatment of insane -patients, presents one of the finest features in the civilization of the -age; but the boon of wholesome labor is, perhaps, the greatest benefit -that has yet been conferred upon this class of sufferers. The fact is -strikingly illustrated in the annual report for the last year of the -Royal Edinburgh Asylum. The number of patients treated was 738, and at -the close of the year there remained as inmates 476. Of this latter -number, upward of 380 were employed daily, and sometimes as many as 100 -working in the open air in the extensive grounds of the asylum. "Among -these," says Dr. Skae, "may be daily seen many of the most violent and -destructive of the inmates busily engaged in wheeling earth, manure, or -stones, who for years have done little else than destroy their clothing, -or spend their days and nights in restless agitation, or incoherent -raving. The strong necessity which appears to exist, in many cases, for -continual movement, or incessant noise, seems to find vent as naturally -in active manual labor, if it can with any propriety be substituted and -regulated." And a curious illustration of this is given in the case of -"one of the most violent, restless, and unmanageable inmates of the -asylum during the past year," whose calling was that of a miner. He was -"tall and muscular, and occupied himself, if permitted to mix with -others, in pursuing his fellow-patients, and fighting with them; if left -alone in the airing courts, in running round and knocking his elbows -violently on the stone walls; and if secluded, in continual -vociferations and incessant knocking on the wall. I directed him to be -sent to the grounds, and employed with the wheelbarrow--a special -attendant being intrusted with him on his _début_. Hard work seemed to -be all he required. He spent his superfluous energies in wheeling -stones; he soon proved himself to be one of the most useful and -able-bodied of the awkward squad, and ere long was restored to his -natural condition--that of a weak-minded but industrious coal-miner." - -Oakum-picking proves a useful occupation not only for imbeciles capable -of no higher industry, but for malingerers and idlers, who are soon -anxious to escape from it into the shoemaker's, tailor's, blacksmith's, -or carpenter's shops. "In the same manner the females have been -gradually broken into habits of industry to a degree hitherto -unprecedented. Those who have done nothing for many years but mutter to -themselves, or crouch in corners, now sew or knit from morning till -night. Knitting, sewing, straw-bonnet making, and other occupations, are -carried on throughout the house to such an extent that, I fear, in a -very short time, unless some outlet is obtained for exportations, we -shall be at a loss to know what to do." In addition to the usual -handicraft employments, which are all practiced in the establishment, it -is interesting to observe that some patients occupy themselves in -engraving, drawing, and land-surveying. A considerable portion of one of -the houses has been elegantly painted, and in part refurnished, by the -patients.--_Chambers._ - - - - -MONTHLY RECORD OF CURRENT EVENTS. - - -Congress adjourned on the 30th of September, in accordance with the -resolution noticed in the last number of the Magazine. Very little -business of general interest was transacted in addition to that of which -a record has already been made. The appropriation bills were passed, and -in one of them was inserted a prohibition of flogging in the navy and -aboard merchant vessels of the United States, which received the -sanction of both houses and became a law. A provision was also inserted, -granting land bounties to soldiers in the war of 1812, and in any of the -previous wars of the United States. The passage of the bill involving, -directly or indirectly, the slavery issue, of which we have already -given a full account, restored a greater degree of harmony and of -calmness to both branches of Congress than had hitherto prevailed, and -the same influence has had an important effect, though to a less extent, -upon the country at large. - -The political incidents of the month have not been without interest. A -State Convention, representing the Whigs of New York, assembled at -Syracuse, on the 27th of September, for the nomination of State -officers. Hon. Francis Granger was chosen President, and a committee was -appointed to report resolutions expressing the sentiments of the -Convention,--Hon. William Duer, member of Congress from the Oswego -district, being Chairman. The resolutions were at once reported. They -expressed confidence in the national administration, approved the -measures recently adopted by Congress connected with slavery, and -declared the respect of the Convention for the motives which had -animated the Whig Senator from New York, and the majority of the New -York Congressional delegation in the course they had taken upon them. By -a vote of the majority, the Convention proceeded to the nomination of -State officers--the minority refusing to participate in the current -business until the resolutions should have been acted on. Hon. -Washington Hunt was nominated for Governor, George J. Cornell, of New -York City, for Lieutenant Governor, Ebenezer Blakely, for Canal -Commissioner, Abner Baker, for State Prison Inspector, and Wessel S. -Smith, for Clerk of the Court of Appeals. After the nominations had been -made, the resolutions were taken up. A substitute for part of them was -offered by Hon. George W. Cornwell of Cayuga County, expressing -confidence in the ability, patriotism, and statesmanship of President -Fillmore, and approving of the course pursued by Mr. Seward in the -Senate of the United States. The latter resolution passed by a vote of -76 to 40; and the minority immediately withdrew from the Convention, the -President, Mr. Granger, leaving the chair, and organized anew elsewhere. -One of the Vice Presidents took the chair thus vacated, and the -Convention, after completing its business, and appointing a State Whig -Central Committee, adjourned. The seceders appointed a committee to -issue an address, and adjourned. The Address soon after appeared, and -after reciting the history of the Syracuse Convention, aiming to show -that its approval of the course of Senator Seward deprived its doings of -all binding force, concluded by calling a convention of delegates, -representing those Whigs who disapproved of the action at Syracuse, to -be held at Utica, on the 17th of October. Delegates were accordingly -elected in nearly all the counties of the state, and the Convention met -on the day appointed. Hon. Francis Granger was elected President. -Resolutions, setting forth the position and principles of those -represented, were passed, and the candidates nominated at Syracuse were -adopted. The Convention appointed another State Central Committee, and -then adjourned. It will be observed that the only point in which the two -conventions came into collision, so far as future political movements -are concerned, is in the appointment of those two committees. Each will, -undoubtedly, endeavor to exercise the ordinary functions of such -committees, in calling state conventions, &c., and thus will arise a -direct conflict of claims which may lead to a permanent division of the -party.----Hon. WASHINGTON HUNT has written a letter in reply to -inquiries from Mr. GRANGER, in which he declines to express any opinion -as to the differences which arose at Syracuse. So far as that difference -relates to the merits of individuals, he considers it unworthy the -attention of a great party, each individual of which must be left -entirely at liberty to entertain his own opinion and preferences. He -considers the Whigs of the North pledged to oppose the extension of -slavery into free territory, and refers to their previous declarations -upon the subject, to show that the South must not ask or expect them to -abandon that position. He says that the terms on which the Texas -boundary dispute was settled, were not altogether satisfactory to him, -but he nevertheless cheerfully acquiesces in them since they have become -the law of the land. He expresses dissatisfaction with the provisions of -the Fugitive Slave bill, thinking it far more likely to increase -agitation than allay it, and says that it will require essential -modifications. He very earnestly urges union and harmony in the councils -of the Whig party.----The Anti-Renters held a convention at Albany, and -made up a ticket for state offices, selected from the nominations of -the two political parties. Hon. Washington Hunt was adopted as -their candidate for Governor, and Ebenezer Blakely for Canal -Commissioner--both being the Whig nominees for the same offices: the -others were taken from the Democratic ticket.----Considerable excitement -prevails in some of the Southern States in consequence of the admission -of California at the late session of Congress. Governor Quitman of -Mississippi has called an extra session of the Legislature, to commence -on the 23d of November, to consider what measures of resistance and -redress are proper. In South Carolina a similar sentiment prevails, -though the Governor has decided, for prudential reasons, not to convene -the Legislature in extra session. In Georgia a state convention, -provided for in certain contingencies at the late session of the -Legislature, is soon to meet, and a very active popular canvass is going -on for the election of delegates--the character of the measures to be -adopted forming the dividing line. Some are for open resistance and -practical secession from the Union, while others oppose such a course as -unwarranted by any thing experienced thus far, and as certain to entail -ruin upon the Southern States. Hon. C.J. JENKINS, who declined a seat in -the Cabinet, tendered to him by President FILLMORE, has taken very high -ground against the disunionists, saying that no action hostile to the -South has been had by Congress, but that all her demands have been -conceded. In every Southern State a party exists warmly in favor of -preserving the Union, and in most of them it will probably be -successful.----The Legislature of Vermont commenced its annual session -on the 13th ult. Hon. SOLOMON FOOTE has been elected U.S. Senator to -succeed Hon. S.S. PHELPS whose term expires in March next.----GEORGE N. -BRIGGS has been nominated by the Whigs for re-election as Governor of -Massachusetts.----The _Arctic_, the third of the American line of mail -steamers, between New York and Liverpool, is completed, and will very -soon take her place; the _Baltic_ will soon be ready.----The assessed -value of real and personal property in the City of New York, according -to a late report of the Board of Supervisors, is set at 286 millions; -the tax on which is $339,697. This property is all taxed to about 6,000 -persons. The increase for the year is thirty millions, nearly 10 per -cent. The value of the real and personal estate of the State of New -York, according to the last report of the Comptroller, was $536,161,901. -The State tax of 1849 amounted to $278,843.10; of which $130,000, or -nearly one half, was paid by the city.----Some years since a colony of -Swedes settled in the northwestern part of Illinois, in Henry county, -near the Mississippi. They are represented as an industrious and -thriving people, supporting themselves chiefly by the manufacture of -table-cloths, napkins, sheets, and other linens. Last year they suffered -much from the cholera; but their numbers will soon be increased by a -new colony of about 300 members who are now on their way from Sweden, -and are expected soon to arrive with a considerable amount of capital, -the fruits of the sale of their own property, and the property of their -brethren already here.----A good deal of excitement prevails in some of -the Northern States in regard to the execution of the new law for the -recovery of fugitive slaves. The first instance in which it was carried -into effect occurred in New York city, where a fugitive named James -Hamlet, who had lived in Williamsburgh for some two years with his -family, was apprehended, taken to Baltimore, and restored to his owner. -The process was so summary that no resistance was offered or excitement -created: but after the whole was over a great deal of feeling was -elicited, and money enough was speedily raised by subscription to -purchase the slave, who was returned to his family amidst great public -demonstrations of rejoicing among the colored population. In Detroit an -attempt to arrest a fugitive excited a popular resistance to suppress -which it was found necessary to call out troops of the United States; -the negro was seized, but purchased by voluntary subscriptions. Large -public meetings have been held in various cities and towns, to protest -against the law, and to devise measures for defeating its operation. One -of the largest was held at Boston on the 4th ult., at which Hon. Josiah -Quincy presided. The tone of the address and resolutions was less -inflammatory than in many other places, as obedience to the law while it -stands upon the statute book was enjoined; but its spirit was warmly -reprobated, and the necessity of agitating for its immediate repeal was -strongly urged. Fugitives from service at the South are very numerous in -portions of the Northern States. Many of them, since the passage of the -law, have taken refuge in Canada, while others depend on the sympathy of -the community in which they live for immunity from the operation of the -law. The law undoubtedly requires modification in some of its details, -but the main object it is designed to secure is so clearly within the -provisions of the Federal Constitution that its enforcement is -universally felt to be a public duty.----JENNY LIND, whose arrival and -public reception in New York were mentioned in our last number, has been -giving concerts in that city, Boston, Providence, and Philadelphia. In -each place there has been a strong competition in the purchase of the -first ticket for the first concert. In New York it was sold for $250; in -Boston for $625; in Providence $650; and in Philadelphia $625. The -evident object of the purchaser in each case was notoriety. Her concerts -have been densely crowded, and the public excitement in regard to her -continues unabated.----Intelligence has been received from Rome, that -the Pope, at the request of the late council assembled in Baltimore, has -erected the See of New York into an Arch-episcopal See, with the Sees of -Boston, Hartford, Albany, and Buffalo, as Suffragan Sees. The Right -Rev. Bishop HUGHES is, of course, elevated to the dignity of Archbishop. -The brief of the Pope is signed by Cardinal Lambruschini, and is dated -on the 19th of July last.----Public sentiment in Texas seems to be -decidedly in favor of accepting the terms offered in the Boundary Bill. -No official action has yet been had upon the subject, but it is believed -that the Legislature will either accept the proposition at once or -submit it to a popular vote. Mr. KAUFMAN, one of the Members of Congress -from that State, has addressed a circular to his constituents, refuting -many of the objections that have been urged against the bill. The area -of Texas, with the boundary now established, is 237,321 miles, which is -more than five times that of New-York.----An interesting official -correspondence between our Government and that of Central America, has -recently been published, mainly relating to the subject of canals and -railroads across the Isthmus. Mr. CLAYTON'S plan appears to have been to -encourage, by every constitutional means, every railroad company, as -well as every canal company, that sought to shorten the transit between -the American States on both oceans. For this purpose he endeavored to -extend the protection of this Government to the railroads at Panama and -Tehuantepec. It was not his purpose to exclude other nations from the -right of passage, but to admit them all on the same terms; that is, -provided they would all agree equally to protect the routes--a principle -adopted originally by President JACKSON, in pursuance of a resolution of -the Senate, of which Mr. CLAYTON was the author, while a member of that -body, on the 3d of March, 1835. The principles of this resolution were -fully sustained by General JACKSON, who sent Mr. BIDDLE to Central -America and New Grenada for the purpose, and were afterward fully -adopted by President POLK, as appears by his message transmitting to the -Senate the treaty for the Panama railroad. General TAYLOR followed in -the same train with his predecessors, as appears by his message of -December last, thus fully sustaining the views of the Senate resolution -of the 3d of March, 1835, the principles of which may now be considered -as illustrating the policy of the American Government on this -subject.----In accordance with the provisions of the treaty recently -concluded with the United States, the British Government has withdrawn -all its demands for port and other dues from the harbor of San Juan de -Nicaragua, and the navigation of that noble river and the lakes -connected with it are fully open to American enterprise.----A shock of -an earthquake was felt at Cleveland, Ohio, on the 1st of October. The -shock lasted about two seconds, and was so violent as to produce a -jarring and rattling of windows and furniture, and was accompanied by a -rumbling sound, like distant thunder, which lasted three or four -seconds. On the same night a very brilliant meteor was observed in the -Eastern States, and a very remarkable aurora at sea.----The General -Convention of the Episcopal Church has been in session at Cincinnati. -The House of Bishops, to which the subject had been referred by the -Diocese of New York, has decided against the restoration of Bishop -Onderdonk, by a vote of two to one, and the General Convention has -provided for the election of an Assistant Bishop in such -cases.----Conventions in Virginia and Indiana are in session for the -revision of the Constitutions of those States.----The U.S. Consul at -Valparaiso has written a letter concerning the establishment of a line -of monthly steamers between that port and Panama. Since the discovery of -the gold mines in California, he says, the travel and trade upon that -coast has increased fivefold. For the last ten years there has been in -successful operation a line of English steamers plying between Panama, -in New Grenada, and Valparaiso, in Chili, with a grant from the British -Government of _one hundred thousand dollars per annum_, for the purpose -of carrying the English mail; which, together with the immense amount of -travel, in the last four years, renders it a most lucrative monopoly. -The charter, originally granted to the company for ten years, has lately -expired, and the liberal Republics of Chili, Peru, Ecuador, and Bolivia -have peremptorily refused to renew the monopoly, and have generously -opened their ports to the competition of American steamers. Between -Valparaiso and Panama there are twenty-one different ports at which -these steamers stop, in performing their monthly trips to and fro, for -freight and passengers, leaving Panama on the 27th and Valparaiso on the -30th of each month. The voyage is punctually performed in twenty-four -days. The feasibility of establishing an American line of steamers upon -that coast is strongly urged. The wealth of the silver mines of Copiapo -is so great that every English steamer at Panama transmits hundreds of -thousands of dollars' worth to England in solid bars. - - * * * * * - -From CALIFORNIA we have intelligence to the 15th of September. The -disturbances at Sacramento City, growing out of resistance to the land -claims, have entirely subsided, the squatters having been dispersed. -Three or four persons were killed upon each side in the riots of which -we have already given an account. A gentleman had arrived in California -deputed by Mr. LETCHER, U.S. Minister in Mexico, to attend to the -settlement of land titles. He had expressed the belief that most of the -grants made by the Governors before the acquisition of California by the -United States will be confirmed by our Government, on the evidence Mr. -Letcher is prepared to furnish from the official records in the city of -Mexico, as to the invariable practice of the Mexican Government in this -particular. His assurances upon the subject had given general -satisfaction.----Early in September there was a complete panic in the -money market at San Francisco, and several of the most prominent houses -had failed. Confidence, however, had been fully restored at the date of -our latest advices. The losses by the three great fires which had -visited the city were supposed to have occasioned the monetary -difficulties.----Fears were entertained that the overland emigrants -would suffer greatly during the present season. It was believed that ten -thousand were on the way who had not crossed the Great Desert, one half -of whom would be destitute of subsistence and teams on reaching Carson -River. They had been deceived into taking a longer and more difficult -route, and had lost most of their animals, and not unfrequently men, -women, and children had sunk under the hardships of the road, and -perished of hunger or thirst.----Indian difficulties still continued in -different parts of California, the troops and citizens were making some -progress in breaking up the bands which caused them the most -difficulty.----The accounts from the mines continue to be highly -encouraging. It is unnecessary to give in detail the reports from the -various localities; they were all yielding abundant returns. It was -believed that much larger quantities of gold will be taken from the -mines this season than ever before.----From the 1st of August to Sept. -13th, there arrived at San Francisco by sea 5940 persons, and 4672 had -left.----The tax upon foreign miners does not succeed as a revenue -measure.----The expedition which sailed in July last to the Klamath and -Umpqua rivers, has returned to San Francisco. It has been ascertained -that the Klamath and Trinity unite, and form the river which discharges -its waters into the sea, in latitude 41° 34´ north, and that there is no -river answering to the description of the Klamath, in 42° 26´, as laid -down in the charts of Frémont and Wilkes. From this river, the -expedition visited the Umpqua, which they found to have an opening into -the sea, of nearly one mile in width, with some three or four fathoms of -water on the bar, and navigable about thirty miles up, when it opens -into a rich agricultural district. - - * * * * * - -From OREGON our advices are to Sept. 2. There is no news of general -interest. The country seems to be steadily prosperous. New towns are -springing up at every accessible point, and a commercial interest being -awakened that is highly commendable. The frequency of communication by -steam between California and Oregon strongly identifies their interests. - - * * * * * - -From ENGLAND there is no intelligence of much interest. The reception of -Baron Haynau by the brewers of London has engaged the attention, and -excited the discussion of all the organs of opinion in Europe. Most of -the English journals condemn in the most earnest language the conduct of -the mob, as disgraceful to the country, while only a few of them express -any special sympathy with the victim of it. The London _Times_ is more -zealous in his defense than any other paper. It not only denounces the -treatment he received at the hands of the English populace, but -endeavors to vindicate him from the crimes laid to his charge, and -assails the Hungarian officers and soldiers in turn with great -bitterness. In its anxiety to apologize for Haynau, it asserts that -English officers, and among them the Duke of Wellington and General Sir -Lacy Evans, committed acts during their campaigns quite as severe as -those with which he is charged. This line of defense, however, avails -but little with the English people. The public sentiment is unanimous in -branding Haynau as one of the most ruthless monsters of modern times, -and the verdict is abundantly sustained by the incidents and deeds of -his late campaigns. After his expulsion from England he returned to -Austria, being received with execrations and indignities at several -cities on his route.----Further advices have been received from the -Arctic Expedition sent in search of Sir John Franklin, but they contain -no satisfactory intelligence. A report, derived from an Esquimaux Indian -whom Sir John Ross met near the northern extremity of Baffin's Bay, -states that in the winter of 1846 two ships were broken by the ice a -good way off from that place, and destroyed by the natives, and that the -officers and crews, being without ammunition, were killed by the -Indians. The story is very loosely stated, and is generally discredited -in England. The vessel, Prince Albert, attached to the Expedition, has -arrived at Aberdeen, and announced the discovery, at Cape Reilley and -Beechy Island, at the entrance of the Wellington Channel, of traces of -five places where tents had been fixed, of great quantities of beef, -pork, and birds' bones, and of a piece of rope with the Woolwich mark -upon it. These were considered, with slight grounds, however, undoubted -traces of Sir John Franklin's expedition. The exploring vessels were -pushing boldly up Wellington Channel.----The preparations for the great -Industrial Exhibition of 1851, are going on rapidly and satisfactorily. -In nearly every country of Europe, extensive arrangements are in -progress for taking part in it, while in London the erection of the -necessary buildings is steadily going forward.----A curious and -interesting correspondence with respect to the cultivation of cotton in -Liberia has taken place between President Roberts, of Liberia, Lord -Palmerston, the Board of Trade, and the Chamber of Commerce at -Manchester, tending to show that cotton may be made a most important -article of cultivation in the African republic.----Lord Clarendon has -been making the tour of Ireland, and has been received in a very -friendly manner by the people of every part of the island. He took every -opportunity of encouraging the people to rely upon their own industry -and character for prosperity, and pledged the cordial co-operation of -the country in all measures that seemed likely to afford them -substantial aid or relief.----The statutes constituting the Queen's -University in Ireland have received the sanction of the Queen, and gone -into effect.----A Captain Mogg has been tried and fined for endangering -lives by setting the wheels of his steamboat in operation while a number -of skiffs and other light boats were in his immediate vicinity.----The -ship Indian, a fine East Indiaman, was wrecked on the 4th of April, near -the Mauritius. She struck upon a reef and almost immediately went to -pieces. The utmost consternation prevailed among the officers and crew. -The captain seized and lowered the boat, and with eight seamen left the -ship: they were never heard of again. Those who remained succeeded in -constructing a rude raft, on which they lived fourteen days, suffering -greatly from hunger and thirst, and were finally rescued by a passing -ship.----Two steamers, the Superb and Polka, were lost, the former on -the 16th, and the latter on the 24th, between the island of Jersey and -St. Malo. No lives were lost by the Superb, but ten persons perished in -the wreck of the Polka.----The Queen has been visiting Scotland.----Some -of the Irish papers have been telling astounding stories of apparitions -of the _Great Sea Serpent_. A Mr. T. Buckley, writing from Kinsale on -the 11th instant, informs the Cork Reporter that he was induced by some -friends to go to sea, in the hope of falling in with the interesting -stranger, and that he was not long kept in suspense, for "a little to -the west of the Old Head the monster appeared." Its size, he truly -avers, is beyond all description, and the head, he adds, very like a -(bottle-nose) whale. One of the party fired the usual number of shots, -but, of course, without effect. - - * * * * * - -Of LITERARY INTELLIGENCE there is but little in any quarter. A good deal -of interest has been excited by a discreditable attack made by the Whig -Review upon the distinguished author Mr. G.P.R. JAMES. The Review -discovered in an old number of the Dublin University Magazine some -verses written by Mr. JAMES for a friend who without his knowledge sent -them for publication. They were upon the clamor that was then afloat -about war between England and the United States: Mr. James, alluding to -the threats from America against England, had said that "bankrupt states -were blustering high;" and had also spoken of Slavery in the United -States as a "living lie," which British hands in the event of a war, -would wipe out and let their bondmen free. The Review denounces Mr. -James, in very coarse and abusive terms for the poem, and seeks to -excite against him the hostility of the American people. The matter was -commented upon in several of the journals, and Mr. James wrote a manly -letter to his legal adviser Mr. M.B. FIELD, which is published in the -_Courier and Enquirer_, in which he avows himself the author of the -verses in question, explains the circumstances under which they were -written, and urges the injustice of making them the ground of censure or -complaint. His letter has been received with favor by the press -generally, which condemns the unjust and unwarrantable assault of the -Review upon the character of this distinguished author. It is stated -that Mr. James intends to become an American citizen, and that he has -already taken the preliminary legal steps.----The principal publishers -are engaged in preparing gift-books for the coming holidays. The -APPLETONS have issued a very elegant and attractive work, entitled "Our -Saviour with Prophets and Apostles," containing eighteen highly finished -steel engravings, with descriptions by leading American divines. It is -edited by Rev. Dr. WAINWRIGHT and forms one of the most splendid volumes -ever issued in this country. They have also issued a very interesting -volume of Tales by Miss MARIA J. McINTOSH, entitled "Evenings at -Donaldson Manor," which will be popular beyond the circle for which it -is immediately designed.----Other works have been issued of which -notices will more appropriately be found in another department of this -Magazine.----The English market for the month is entirely destitute of -literary novelties.----A series of interesting experiments has been -undertaken by order of Government, for the purpose of testing the value -of iron as a material for the construction of war-steamers. When the -vessels are comparatively slight, it is found that a shot going through -the side exposed, makes a clean hole of its own size, which might be -readily stopped; but on the opposite side of the vessel the effect is -terrific, tearing off large sheets; and even when the shot goes through, -the rough edges being on the outside, it is almost impossible to stop -the hole. If the vessels are more substantially constructed the -principal injury takes place on the side exposed; and this is so great -that two or three shot, or even a single one, striking below water line, -would endanger the ship. As the result of the whole series of -experiments, the opinion is expressed that iron, whether used alone or -in combination with wood, can not be beneficially used for the -construction of vessels of war.----The wires of the submarine telegraph -having been found too weak to withstand the force of the waves, it has -been determined to incase the wires in a ten-inch cable, composed of -what is called "whipped plait," with wire rope, all of it chemically -prepared so as to protect it from rot, and bituminized. A wire thus -prepared is calculated to last for twenty years.----In the allotment of -space in the Industrial Exhibition, 85,000 square feet have been -assigned to the United States; 60,000 to India; 47,050 to the remaining -British colonies and possessions; 5000 to China. Hamburg asked for -28,800, and France for 100,000 feet. Commissions have been formed in -Austria, Spain, and Turkey.----A correspondent of the Chronicle says -that the great beauty of the leaves of some American trees and plants -renders them an appropriate article of ornament, and suggests that -specimens preserved be sent to the Exhibition; and that a large demand -for them would ensue.----An edition of the Works of JOHN OWEN, to be -comprised in sixteen volumes, under the editorial charge of Rev. -William H. Goold, has been commenced. The doctrinal works will occupy -five volumes, the practical treatises four, and the polemical seven. The -first volume contains a life of Owen, by Rev. Andrew Thomson of -Edinburgh. This edition is edited with remarkable fidelity and care, and -will prove a valuable accession to theological literature.----Washington -Irving has received from Mr. Murray £9767 for copyrights and £2500 from -Mr. Bentley, who has paid nearly £16,000 to Cooper, Prescott, and Herman -Melville.----The Principal Theological Faculties in Germany are those of -Berlin and Halle. The subjoined list will show that almost all the -Professors have attained a wide reputation in the department of sacred -letters. At Berlin the Professors are: NITZSCH, Theology, Dogmatic, and -Practical; HENGSTENBERG and VATKE, Exegesis of the Old and New -Testaments, and Introduction; TWESTEN, Exegesis of the New Testament, -Dogmatic Theology; F. STRAUSS, Homiletics; JACOBI, Ecclesiastical -History; UBBMANN, Oriental Languages. The Professors at Halle are: -JULIUS MULLER, Theology, Dogmatic, and Practical; THOLUCK, Exegesis and -Moral Philosophy; HUPFELD, Hebrew and Oriental Languages; GUERICKE, -Ecclesiastical History, Introduction; HERZOG, MAYER, and THILO, -Ecclesiastical History.----A new apparatus for the production of heat -has been invented by Mr. D.O. Edwards. It is named the "atmopyre," or -solid gas fire. A small cylinder of pipe clay, varying in length from -two to four inches, perforated with holes the fiftieth of an inch in -diameter, in imitation of Davy's safety lamp, is employed. The cylinder -has a circular hole at one end, which fits upon a "fish-tail" burner; -gas is introduced into the interior of the cylinder, with the air of -which it becomes mixed, forming a kind of artificial fire-damp. This -mixture is ignited on the outside of the vessel, and burns entirely on -the exterior of the earthenware, which is enveloped in a coat of pale -blue flame. The clay cylinder which Mr. Edwards calls a "hood," soon -becomes red hot, and presents the appearance of a solid red flame. All -the heat of combustion is thus accumulated on the clay, and is thence -radiated. One of these cylinders is heated to dull redness in a minute -or two; but an aggregate of these "hoods" placed in a circle or cluster, -and inclosed in an argillaceous case, are heated to an orange color, and -the case itself becomes bright red. By surrounding this "solid gas fire" -with a series of cases, one within another, Mr. Edwards has obtained a -great intensity of heat, and succeeded in melting gold, silver, copper, -and even iron. Mr. Palmer, the engineer of the Western Gas-light -Company, by burning two feet of gas in an atmopyre of twelve "hoods," -raised the temperature of a room measuring 8551 cubic feet, five degrees -of Fahrenheit in seventeen minutes. The heat generated by burning gas in -this way is 100 per cent. greater than that engendered by the ordinary -gas flame when tested by the evaporation of water. 25 feet of gas burnt -in an atmopyre per hour, produces steam sufficient for one-horse power. -Hence the applicability of the invention to baths, brewing, &c.----At -the late meeting of the British Association, Major Rawlinson, after -enumerating many interesting particulars of the progress of Assyrian -discoveries, stated that Mr. Layard, in excavating part of the palace at -Nineveh had found a large room filled with what appeared to be the -archives of the empire, ranged in successive tables of terra cotta, the -writings being as perfect as when the tablets were first stamped. They -were piled in huge heaps, from the floor to the ceiling, and he had -already filled five large cases for dispatch to England, but had only -cleared out one corner of the apartment. From the progress already made -in reading the inscriptions, he believed we should be able pretty well -to understand the contents of these tables--at all events, we should -ascertain their general purport, and thus gain much valuable -information. A passage might be remembered in the Book of Ezra, where -the Jews having been disturbed in building the Temple, prayed that -search might be made in the house of records for the edict of Cyrus -permitting them to return to Jerusalem. The chamber recently found might -be presumed to be the House of Records of the Assyrian Kings, where -copies of the Royal edicts were duly deposited. When these tablets had -been examined and deciphered, he believed that we should have a better -acquaintance with the history, the religion, the philosophy, and the -jurisprudence of Assyria 1500 years before the Christian era, than we -had of Greece or Rome during any period of their respective -histories.----M. Guillen y Calomarde has just discovered a new -telescopic star between the polar star and Cynosure, near to the rise of -the tail of the Little Bear--a star at least that certainly did not -exist in October last. According to the observations of M. Calomarde, -the new star should have an increasing brilliancy, and it is likely that -in less than a month this star, which now is visible only through a -telescope, may be seen with the naked eye.----The Senate of the -University of Padua is at present preparing for publication two curious -works, of which the manuscripts are in the library of that -establishment. One is a translation in Hebrew verse of the "Divina -Commedia," of Dante, by Samuel Rieti, Grand Rabbi of Padua, in the 16th -century. The second is a translation of Ovid's "Metamorphoses," likewise -in Hebrew, in stanzas of 18 verses of a very complicated metre, from the -pen of the Rabbi.----ELIOT WARBURTON is engaged in collecting materials -for a History of the Poor, which is to appear in the spring. - -The captain and second mate of the steamer Orion, which was wrecked in -June, have been sentenced, the former to eighteen months' imprisonment, -the latter to ten years' transportation, for gross and culpable -negligence of duty.----Lieutenant Gale, somewhat celebrated as an -aeronaut, lost his life while making an ascent on horseback at -Bordeaux. He had descended in safety, and the horse was removed; the -diminution of the weight caused the balloon to ascend rapidly, with the -aeronaut, who was somewhat intoxicated, clinging to it. He of course -soon fell, and, a day or two after, his body was found, with the limbs -all broken, and mutilated by dogs.----Mr. Mongredien, a London -corn-factor, has published a pamphlet, in which he endeavors to estimate -the probable amount of home-grown food upon which Ireland can calculate -the coming year. As the result of extensive inquiries, he is of the -opinion that the potato crop will suffice as food for the masses only -until January; and that the wheat-crop amounts to but three-fourths of -last year's amount.----The Postmaster General has directed that all -letters addressed to the United States, shall be forwarded by the first -mail packet that sails, whether British or American, unless specially -directed otherwise.----Viscount Fielding, who occupied the chair at the -great Church Meeting in Free-Mason's Hall, on the 23d of July, has -abandoned the English Church for that of Rome.----A number of the -Catholic bishops of Ireland were appointed by government as official -visitors of the New College, to which they were known to be bitterly -opposed. The appointments have been scornfully rejected by the -bishops.----The Britannia Bridge, one of the greatest triumphs of modern -engineering, was completed on the 13th of September, by the lowering of -the last of the tubes to its permanent resting-place. Some curious -acoustic effects have been observed in connection with this work. Pistol -shots, or any sonorous noises, are echoed within the tube half a dozen -times. The cells at the top and bottom, are used by the engineers as -speaking tubes, and they can carry on conversation through them in -whispers; by elevating the voice persons may converse through the length -of the bridge--nearly a quarter of a mile. The total cost of the entire -structure has been £601,865. The total weight of each of the wrought -iron roadways now completed, represents 12,000 tons, supported on a -total mass of masonry of a million and a half cubic feet, erected at the -rate of three feet in a minute.----Mount Blanc was ascended on the 29th -of September, to its top-most peak, by two gentlemen from Ireland, Mr. -Gratton, late of the army, and Mr. Richards, with a party of the brave -mountaineers of Chamouni. The enterprise was considered so dangerous, -that the guides left their watches and little valuables behind, and the -two gentlemen made their wills, and prepared for the worst. The ascent -is always accompanied with great peril, as steps have to be cut up the -sloping banks of the ice; one of the largest glaciers has to be passed, -where one false step entails certain death, as the unfortunate falls -into a crevice of almost unknown depth, from which no human hand could -extricate him. A night has to be passed on the cold rock amidst the -thunders of the avalanche, and spots have to be passed where, it is -said, no word can be spoken lest thousands of tons of snow should be set -in motion, and thus hurl the party into eternity, as was the case some -years back when a similar attempt was made. This latter impression, -however, as to the effect of the voice upon masses of snow, is -unquestionably absurd. An avalanche may have occurred simultaneously -with a conversation; but that the latter caused the former is -incredible.----The Turkish government has manifested its intention to -set Kossuth and his companions at liberty in September, the end of the -year stipulated in the Convention. Austria, however, remonstrates, -contending that the year did not commence till the moment of -incarceration. The prisoners are to be sent in a government vessel -either to England or America, and are to be furnished with 500 piastres -each, to meet their immediate wants on landing.----The two American -vessels, Advance and Rescue, sent in search of Sir John Franklin, had -been seen by an English whale-ship west of Devil's Thumb, in Greenland, -having advanced 500 miles since last heard from.----The new Cunard -Steamer Africa, of the same dimensions with the Asia, is nearly ready to -take her place in the line, and the Company are about to commence -another ship of still larger size and power.----Disastrous inundations -have destroyed all the crops in the province of Brescia, in Lombardy. -Subscriptions were opened in Milan, the aggregate amount of which (about -50,000 francs) was sent to the relief of the unfortunate -inhabitants.----There are in the prisons at Naples at present no less -than 40,000 political prisoners; and the opinion is that, from the -crowded state of the jails, the greater number will go mad, become -idiots, or die.----Lines of electric telegraph are extending rapidly -over Central Europe. Within four months, 1000 miles have been opened in -Austria, making 2000 in that empire, of which 500 are under ground. -Another 1000 miles will be ready next year. The telegraph now works from -Cracow to Trieste, 700 miles.----On the 1st of October, the new -telegraph union between Austria, Prussia, Saxony, and Bavaria, was to -come into operation, under a uniform tariff, which is one-half of the -former charges.----The Hungarian musicians accustomed to perform their -national airs in the streets of Vienna, have been ordered to quit the -city. It is said they will go through Europe, in order to excite popular -sympathy in behalf of their unfortunate country, by means of their -music, the great characteristic of which is a strange mixture of wild -passion and deep melancholy.----After eight years' labor, the gigantic -statue of the King of Bavaria has been finished, and is now placed on -the hill of Saint Theresa, near Munich. The bronze of the statue cost -92,600 florins, or £11,800.----The will of Sir Robert Peel prohibits his -executors investing any of his real or personal property on securities -in Ireland.----From a late parliamentary return, it appears there are -thirty-two iron steamers in Her Majesty's Navy.----Recent letters from -the East speak of very valuable and expensive sulphur mines just -discovered upon the borders of the Red Sea, in Upper Egypt. The products -of these mines are said to be so abundant, that a material fall in the -prices of Sicilian sulphur must inevitably soon take place. The working -of the newly-discovered mine and its productiveness are greatly -facilitated by its proximity to the sea. The Egyptian Government, which -at first leased the mines to a private company, is now about to resume -possession and work them on its own account. - - * * * * * - -From FRANCE the only intelligence of interest relates to political -movements, concerning which, moreover, there is nothing but partisan and -unreliable rumors. The President, in his various letters, addresses, -&c., insists uniformly on the necessity of maintaining the existing -order of things, and speaks confidently of an appeal to the people. -Contradictory rumors prevail as to his intentions--some believing that -he meditates a _coup-d'état_, but most regarding his movements as aimed -to secure the popular vote. The Assembly is to meet on the 11th of -November, and his opponents intend then to force him to some -ultra-constitutional act which will afford them ground for an appeal. A -series of military reviews has engaged public attention; they have been -closely watched for incidents indicative of the President's purposes: it -is remarked that those who salute him as Emperor are always rewarded for -it by some preference over others.----The Councils-general of France -have closed their annual session. The chief topic of their deliberations -has been the revision of the Constitution, and the result is of interest -as indicating the state of public opinion upon that subject. It seems -that twenty-one councils separated without taking the subject into -consideration; ten rejected propositions for revision; two declared that -the constitution ought to be respected; thirty-three departments, -therefore, refused, more or less formally, to aid the revision. On the -other hand, forty-nine councils came to decisions which the revisionist -party claim for themselves. But a very great diversity is to be -perceived in these decisions. Thirty-two pronounced in favor of revision -only "so far as it should take place under legal conditions," or "so far -as legality should be observed;" two of those called attention to the -forty-fifth article of the constitution, which makes Louis Napoleon -incapable of being immediately rechosen; but another demanded that his -powers should be prolonged. One council voted for revision, and also -desired to prolong the President's power; ten simply voted for revision; -five pronounced for immediate revision, but by very small majorities; -one went further, and proposed to give the present Assembly--which is -legislative and not constituent--authority to effect the revision. Three -councils express merely a desire for a remedy to the present situation. -Thirty-three departments have not pronounced for the revision, or have -pronounced against it; thirty-three are in favor of a legal revision; -thirteen demand the revision without explaining on what conditions they -desire to see it effected; and six demand it immediately; making the -total of eighty-five. - - * * * * * - -From GERMANY the most important intelligence relates to the Electorate -of Hesse Cassel, a state containing less than a million of inhabitants, -and having a revenue of less than two and a half millions of dollars. By -the Constitution the Chamber has the exclusive right of voting taxes. -The Elector, acting probably under the advice of Austria, resolved to -get rid of the Constitution; and as the first step toward it, he -appointed as his minister Hassenpflug, a man wholly without character, -and who had been convicted of forgery in another State, and with him was -associated Haynau, brother of the infamous Austrian General. Months past -away without the Chamber being summoned, but at the time when the -session usually closed, the Parliament was called together, and an -immediate demand made for money and for powers to raise the taxes, -without specific votes of the Chamber. The Parliament replied by an -unanimous vote, that however little the ministers possessed the -confidence of Parliament, they would not go the length of refusing the -supplies, but requested to have a regular budget laid before them, which -they promised to examine, discuss, and vote. To so fair and -constitutional a resolution the minister replied by dissolving the -Parliament, and proceeding to levy the taxes in spite of the Parliament -and the Constitution. The cabinet went to the extremity of proclaiming -the whole Electorate in a state of siege, and investing the -commander-in-chief with dictatorial powers against the press, personal -liberty, and property. The town council unanimously protested against -these arbitrary acts; and such a spirit of resistance was excited that -the Elector and his minister were constrained to seek safety in flight. -The Elector left Cassel on the morning of the 13th, and arrived the same -evening at Hanover, where he was afterward joined by Hassenpflug. Some -of the accounts state that M. Hassenpflug was agitated by terror in his -flight. On the 16th, the Elector and his ministers were at Frankfort. -The government of the Electorate had been assumed by the Permanent -Committee of the Assembly.----In Mecklenberg-Schwerin a similar -revolution seems likely to take place. In October, 1849, a new -Constitution was formed by the deputies of this Duchy, which received -the assent of the Duke. This Constitution was quite democratic in -character. The Duke now feeling himself strong enough coolly pronounces -the Constitution invalid, absolves his subjects from all allegiance to -it, and restores the old Constitution, which was formed in 1755. It is -supposed that the Diet will adopt the Hesse Cassel system of stopping -the supplies, and so starving out their sovereign. - - - - -LITERARY NOTICES. - - -A new work by Rev. WILLIAM R. WILLIAMS, the eminent Baptist clergyman in -New York, has just been issued by Gould, Kendall, and Lincoln, entitled -_Religious Progress_, consisting of a series of Lectures on the -development of the Christian character, founded on the beautiful -gradation of religious excellencies described by St. Peter in his second -Epistle. The subjects, which succeed each other in the order of the -text, are, Religion a Principle of Growth, Faith its Root, Virtue, -Knowledge, Temperance, Patience, Godliness, Brotherly Kindness, Charity. -No one who has read any of the former productions of the author can fall -into the error of supposing that these topics are treated according to -any prescribed, stereotyped routine of the pulpit, or that they labor -under the dullness and formality which are often deemed inseparable from -moral disquisitions. On the contrary, this volume may be regarded as a -profound, stringent, and lively commentary on the aspects of the present -age, showing a remarkable keenness of observation, and a massive -strength of expression. The author, although one of the most studious -and erudite men of the day, is by no means a mere isolated scholar. His -vision is not confined by the walls of his library. Watching the -progress of affairs, from the quiet "loop-holes of his retreat," he -subjects the pictured phantasmagoria before him to a rigorous and -searching criticism. He is not apt to be deluded by the dazzling shows -of things. With a firm and healthy wisdom, acquired by vigilant -experience, he delights to separate the genuine from the plausible, the -true gold from the sounding brass, and to bring the most fair-seeming -pretenses before the tribunal of universal principles. The religious -tone of this volume is lofty and severe. Its sternness occasionally -reminds us of the sombre, passionate, half despairing melancholy of John -Foster. The modern latitudinarian finds in it little either of sympathy -or tolerance. It clothes in a secular costume the vast religious ideas -which have been sanctioned by ages, but makes no attempt to mellow their -austerity, or reduce their solemn grandeur to the level of superficial -thought and worldly aspirations. The train of remark pursued in any one -of these Lectures can never be inferred from its title. The suggestive -mind of the writer is kindled by the theme, and luxuriates in a singular -wealth of analogies, which lead him, it is true, from the beaten track, -but only to open upon us an unexpected prospect, crowned with original -and enchanting beauties. His power of apt and forcible illustration is -almost without a parallel among recent writers. The mute page springs -into life beneath the magic of his radiant imagination. But this is -never at the expense of solidity of thought or strength of argument. It -is seldom indeed that a mind of so much poetical invention yields such a -willing homage to the logical element. He employs his brilliant fancies -for the elucidation and ornament of truth, but never for its discovery. -On this account, he inspires a feeling of trust in the sanity of his -genius, although its conclusions may not be implicitly adopted. Still, -with the deep respect with which we regard the intellectual position of -Dr. Williams, we do not think his writings are destined to obtain a wide -popularity. Their condensation of thought, the elaborate and often -antique structure of their sentences, the profoundly meditative cast of -sentiment with which they are pervaded, and even their Oriental -profusion of imagery, to say nothing of the adamantine rigor of their -religious views, are not suited to the great mass of modern readers, -whose tastes have been formed on models less distinguished for their -austerity than for their airiness and grace. - -Gould, Kendall, and Lincoln, Boston, have recently issued neat reprints -of _The Poetry of Science_, by ROBERT HUNT, a popular English work, -exhibiting the great facts of science, in their most attractive aspects, -and as leading the mind to the contemplation of the Universe; _The -Footprints of the Creator_, by HUGH MILLER, with a memoir of the author, -by Professor AGASSIZ, who characterizes his geological productions as -possessing "a freshness of conception, a power of argumentation, a depth -of thought, a purity of feeling, rarely met with in works of that -character, which are well calculated to call forth sympathy, and to -increase the popularity of a science which has already done so much to -expand our views of the plan of Creation;" and a third edition of _The -Pre-Adamite Earth_, by JOHN HARRIS, whose valuable contributions to -theological science have won for him a high reputation both in England -and our own country. - -Harper and Brothers have published Nos. 7 and 8 of LOSSING'S _Pictorial -Field Book of the American Revolution_. The character of this popular -serial may be perceived from the extracts at the commencement of the -present number of our Magazine. With each successive issue, Mr. -Lossing's picturesque narrative gains fresh interest; he throws a charm -over the most familiar details by his quiet enthusiasm and winning -naïveté; and under the direction of such an intelligent and genial guide -it is delightful to wander over the battle-fields of American history, -and dwell on the exploits of the heroes by whose valor our national -Independence was achieved. Among the embellishments in these numbers, we -observe a striking likeness of the venerable Timothy Pickering, of -Massachusetts, portraits of Gen. Stark, Joel Barlow, Gen. Wooster, and -William Livingston, and exquisite sketches of Baron Steuben's -Headquarters, View near Toby's Eddy, The Susquehanna at Monocasy Island, -The Livingston Mansion, The Bennington Battle-Ground, and other -beautiful and interesting scenes in the history of the Revolution. - -_Household Surgery; or Hints on Emergencies_, by JOHN F. SOUTH (H.C. -Baird, Philadelphia), is a reprint of a popular and amusing work by an -eminent London surgeon, designed for non-professional readers, and -pointing out the course to be pursued in case of an accident, when no -surgical aid is at hand. The author puts in a caveat against -misapprehending the purpose of his book, which he wishes should be -judged solely on its merits. No one is to expect in it a whole body of -surgery, nor to obtain materials for setting up as an amateur surgeon, -to practice on every unfortunate individual who may fall within his -grasp; but directions are given which may be of good service on a pinch, -when the case is urgent, and no doctor is to be had. In the opinion of -the author, whoever doctors himself when he can be doctored, is in much -the same case with the man who conducted his own cause, and had a fool -for his client. With this explanation, Dr. South's volume may be -consulted to great advantage; and although no one would recommend a -treatise on bruises and broken bones for light reading, it must be -confessed, that many popular fictions are less fertile in entertainment. - -An exquisite edition of _Gray's Poetical Works_ has been issued by H.C. -Baird, with an original memoir and notes, by the American Editor, Prof. -HENRY REED, of Philadelphia. It was the intention of the Editor to make -this the most complete collection of Gray's Poems which has yet -appeared, and he seems to have met with admirable success in the -accomplishment of his plan. The illustrations of Radclyffe, engraved in -a superior style of art, by A.W. Graham, form the embellishments of this -edition. We have rarely, if ever, seen them surpassed in the most costly -American gift-books. The volume is appropriately dedicated to JAMES T. -FIELDS, the poet-publisher of Boston. - -The second volume of the _Memoirs of Dr. Chalmers_, by his son-in-law, -WILLIAM HANNA, is issued by Harper and Brothers, comprising a most -interesting account of his labors during his residence at Glasgow, and -bringing his biography down to the forty-third year of his age. The -whole career of this robust and sinewy divine is full of instruction, -but no part of it more abounds with important events than the period -devoted to efforts in bringing the destitute classes of Glasgow under -the influence of Christian ministrations. Whether in the pulpit, in the -discharge of his parochial duties, in the construction of his noble -schemes for social melioration, or in the bosom of his family, Dr. -Chalmers always appears the same whole-hearted, frank, generous, -energetic man, commanding our admiration by the splendor of his -intellect, and winning our esteem by the loveliness of his character. -Some interesting reminiscences of the powerful but erratic preacher, -Edward Irving, who was at one time the assistant of Dr. Chalmers in the -Tron Church, are presented in this volume. - -_History of Propellers and Steam Navigation_, by ROBERT MACFARLANE -(G.P. Putnam), is the title of a useful work, describing most of the -propelling methods that have been invented, which may prevent ingenious -men from wasting their time, talents, and money on visionary projects. -It also gives a history of the attempts of the early inventors in this -department of practical mechanics, including copious notices of Fitch, -Rumsey, Fulton, Symington, and Bell. A separate chapter, devoted to -Marine Navigation, presents a good deal of information on the subject -rarely met with in this country. - -_The Country Year-Book; or, The Field, The Forest, and The Fireside_ -(Harper and Brothers), is the title of a new rural volume by the bluff, -burly, egotistic, but good-natured and humane Quaker, WILLIAM HOWITT, -filled with charming descriptions of English country life, redolent of -the perfume of bean-fields and hedge-rows, overflowing with the affluent -treasures of the four seasons, rich in quaint, expressive sketches of -old-fashioned manners, and pervaded by a generous zeal in the cause of -popular improvement. A more genial and agreeable companion for an autumn -afternoon or a winter's evening could scarcely be selected in the shape -of a book. - -_Success in Life. The Mechanic_, by Mrs. L.C. TUTHILL, published by G.P. -Putnam, is a little volume belonging to a series, intended to illustrate -the importance of sound principles and virtuous conduct to the -attainment of worldly prosperity. Without believing in the necessary -connection between good character and success in business, we may say, -that the examples brought forward by Mrs. Tuthill are of a striking -nature, and adapted to produce a deep and wholesome impression. In the -present work, she avails herself of incidents in the history of John -Fitch, Dr. Franklin, Robert Fulton, and Eli Whitney, showing the -obstacles which they were compelled to encounter, and the energy with -which they struggled with difficulties. She writes in a lively and -pleasing manner; her productions are distinguished for their elevated -moral tone; and they can scarcely fail to become favorites with the -public. - -_Alton Locke, Tailor and Poet; An Autobiography_, is the quaint title of -a political and religious novel, understood to be written by a clergyman -of the Church of England, which is said to have fallen like a bomb-shell -on the old-fashioned schools of political economy in that country. It -purports to be the history of a youth of genius, doomed to struggle with -the most abject poverty, and forced by the necessity of his position to -become a Chartist and a Radical. Brought up in the sternest school of -ultra-Calvinism, he passes by natural transitions from a state of -hopeless and desperate infidelity, to a milder and more cheerful -religious faith, and having taken an active part in schemes for the -melioration of society by political action, he learns by experience the -necessity of spiritual influences for the emancipation of the people. -The tone of the narrative is vehement, austere, and often indignant; -never vindictive; and softened at intervals by a genuine gush of poetic -sentiment. With great skill in depicting the social evils which are -preying on the aged heart of England, the author is vague and -fragmentary in his statement of remedies, and leads us to doubt whether -he has discovered the true "Balm of Gilead" for the healing of nations. -The book abounds with weighty suggestions, urgent appeals, vivid -pictures of popular wretchedness, deep sympathy with suffering, and a -pure devotion to the finer and nobler instincts of humanity. With all -its outpouring of fiery radicalisms, it is intended to exert a -reconciling influence, to bring the different classes of society into a -nearer acquaintanceship, and to oppose the progress of licentious and -destructive tendencies, by enforcing the principles of thorough reform. -Such a work can not but be read with general interest. Its strong -humanitary spirit will recommend it to a large class of readers, while -its acknowledged merits as a work of fiction will attract the literary -amateur.--Published by Harper and Brothers. - -_The Builder's Companion_, and _The Cabinetmaker and Upholsterer's -Companion_, are two recent volumes of the _Practical Series_, published -by H.C. Baird, Philadelphia, reprinted from English works of standard -excellence. They present a mass of valuable scientific information, with -succinct descriptions of various mechanical processes, and are well -suited to promote an intelligent interest in industrial pursuits. - -_Lessons from the History of Medical Delusions_ (Baker and Scribner), is -a Prize Essay by Dr. WORTHINGTON HOOKER, whose former work on a similar -subject has given him considerable reputation as a writer in the -department of medical literature. He is a devoted adherent to the old -system of practice, and spares no pains to expose what he deems the -quackeries of modern times. His volume is less positive than critical, -and contains but a small amount of practical instruction. There are many -of his suggestions, however, which can not be perused without exciting -profound reflection. - -RUSCHENBERGER'S _Lexicon of Terms used in Natural History_, a valuable -manual for the common use of the student, is published by Lippincott, -Grambo, and Co., Philadelphia. - -Another volume of LAMARTINE'S _Confidences_, translated from the French, -under the title of _Additional Memoirs of My Youth_, is published by -Harper and Brothers, and can not fail to excite the same interest which -has been called forth by the previous autobiographical disclosures of -the author. It is written in the rich, glowing, poetical style in which -LAMARTINE delights to clothe his early recollections, and with a naïve -frankness of communication equal to that of Rousseau, is pervaded with a -tone of tender, elevated, and religious sentiment. The description of a -troop of family friends gives a lively tableau of the old school of -French gentlemen, and furnishes the occasion for the picturesque -delineation of manners, in which LAMARTINE commands such an admirable -pen. The Confessions would not be complete without one or two love -episodes, which are accordingly presented in a sufficiently romantic -environment. - -Harper and Brothers have published a cheap edition of _Genevieve_, -translated from the French of LAMARTINE, by A.R. SCOBLE. This novel, -intended to illustrate the condition of humble life in France, and to -furnish popular, moral reading for the masses, is written with more -simplicity than we usually find in the productions of Lamartine, and -contains many scenes of deep, pathetic interest. The incidents are not -without a considerable tincture of French exaggeration, and are hardly -suited, one would suppose, to exert a strong or salutary influence in -the sphere of common, prosaic, unromantic duties. As a specimen of the -kind of reading which LAMARTINE deems adapted to the moral improvement -of his countrymen, _Genevieve_ is a literary curiosity. - -Little and Brown, Boston, have published a handsome edition of Prof. -ROSE's _Chemical Tables for the Calculation of Quantitative Analyses_, -recalculated and improved, by the American Editor, W.P. DEXTER. - -Harper and Brothers have issued _The History of Pendennis_, No. 7, -which, to say the least, is of equal interest with any of the preceding -numbers, showing the same felicitous skill in portraying the every-day -aspects of our common life, which has given Thackeray such a brilliant -eminence as a painter of manners. The unconscious case with which he -hits off a trait of weakness or eccentricity, his truthfulness to -nature, his rare common sense, and his subdued, but most effective -satire, make him one of the most readable English writers now before the -public. - -STOCKHARDT'S _Principles of Chemistry_, translated from the German, by -C.H. PEIRCE, is published by John Bartlett, Cambridge. This work is -accompanied with a high recommendation from Prof. Horsford of Harvard -University, which, with its excellent reputation as a textbook in -Germany, will cause it to be sought for with eagerness by students of -chemistry in our own country. - -_Petticoat Government_, by Mrs. TROLLOPE, is the one hundred and -forty-eighth number of Harper's _Library of Select Novels_, and in spite -of the ill odor attached to the name of the authoress, will be found to -exhibit a very considerable degree of talent, great insight into the -more vulgar elements of English society, a vein of bitter and caustic -satire, and a truly feminine minuteness in the delineation of character. -The story is interspersed with dashes of broad humor, and with its -piquant, rapid, and not overscrupulous style, will reward the enterprise -of perusal. - -George P. Putnam has published _A Series of Etchings_, by J.W. EHNINGER, -illustrative of Hood's "Bridge of Sighs." The plates, which are eight in -number, are executed with a good deal of spirit and taste, representing -the principal scenes suggested to the imagination by Hood's exquisitely -pathetic poem. - -A.S. Barnes and Co. have published _The Elements of Natural Philosophy_, -by W.H.C. BARTLETT, being the first of three volumes intended to present -a complete system of the science in all its divisions. The present -volume is devoted to the subject of Mechanics. - -G.P. Putnam has issued a new and improved edition of Prof. CHURCH's -_Elements of the Differential and Integral Calculus_. - -_Lonz Powers, or the Regulators_, by JAMES WEIR, Esq. (Philadelphia, -Lippincott, Grambo, and Co.), is a genuine American romance, written in -defiance of all literary precedents, and a vigorous expression of the -individuality of the author, as acted on by the wild, exuberant frontier -life in the infancy of Western Society. The scenes and characters which -are evidently drawn from nature, are portrayed with a bold, dramatic -freedom, giving a perpetual vitality and freshness to the narrative, and -sustaining the interest of the reader through a succession of -adventures, which in the hands of a less skillful chronicler, would have -become repulsive by their extravagance and terrible intensity. In -addition to the regular progress of the story, the author leads us -through a labyrinth of episodes, most of them savoring of the jovial -forest life, in which he is so perfectly at home, though dashed with -occasional touches of deep pathos. The reflections and criticisms, in -which he often indulges to excess, though considerately printed in a -different type to show that they may be skipped without damage, are too -characteristic to be neglected, and on the whole, we are glad that he -had enough verdant frankness to present them to his readers just as they -sprung up in his mercurial brain. We imagine that the fame of Milton -will survive his attacks, in spite of the mean opinion which he -cherishes of the Paradise Lost. With all its exaggerations and -eccentricities, Lonz Powers has many of the elements of a superior -novel--glowing imagination, truthfulness of description, lively humor, -spicy satire, and an acute perception of the fleeting lights and shades -of character. If it had ten times its present faults, it would be -redeemed from a severe judgment, by its magnetic sympathies, and the -fascinating naturalness with which it pours forth its flushed and joyous -consciousness of life. - -_The History of Xerxes_, by JACOB ABBOTT (Harper and Brothers), is -intended for juvenile reading and study, but its freshness and -simplicity of manner give it a charm for all ages, making it a -delightful refreshment to those who wish to recall the remembrance of -youthful studies. - -_Universal Dictionary of Weights and Measures_, by J.H. ALEXANDER, -published by Wm. Minifie and Co., Baltimore, is a work of remarkable -labor and research, presenting a comparative view of the weights and -measures of all countries, ancient and modern, reduced to the standards -of the United States of America. It is executed in a manner highly -creditable to the learning and accuracy of the author, and will be found -to possess great practical utility for the man of business as well as -the historical student. - -_America Discovered_ (New York, J.F. Trow), is the title of an anonymous -poem in twelve books, founded on a supposed convention of the heavenly -hierarchs among the mountains of Chili in the year 1450, to deliberate -on the best mode of making known the American continent to Europeans. -Two of their number are elected delegates to present the subject before -the Court of Heaven. In the course of their journey, after meeting with -various adventures, they fall in with two different worlds, one of which -has retained its pristine innocence, while the other has yielded to -temptation, and become subject to sin. Their embassy is crowned with -success, and one of them is deputed to break the matter to Columbus, -whose subsequent history is related at length, from his first longings -to discover a new world till the final consummation of his enterprise. -The poet, it will be seen, soars into the highest supernal spheres, but, -in our opinion, displays more ambition than discretion. He does not -often come down safe from his lofty flights to solid ground. - -_Christianity Revived in the East_, by H.G.O. DWIGHT (Baker and -Scribner), is a modest narrative of missionary operations among the -Armenians of Turkey, in which the author was personally engaged for a -series of several years. The volume describes many interesting features -of Oriental life, and presents a vivid picture of the toils and -sacrifices by which a new impulse was given to the progress of -Christianity in the East. The suggestions of the author with regard to -the prosecution of the missionary enterprise are characterized by -earnestness and good sense, but they are sometimes protracted to so -great an extent as to become tedious to the general reader. - -_Grahame; or, Youth and Manhood_ (Baker and Scribner), is the title of a -new romance by the author of _Talbot and Vernon_, displaying a natural -facility for picturesque writing in numerous isolated passages, but -destitute of the sustained vigor and inventive skill which would place -it in the highest rank of fictitious composition. The scene, which is -frequently shifted, without sufficient regard to the locomotive -faculties of the reader, betrays occasional inaccuracies and -anachronisms, showing the hand of a writer who has not gained a perfect -mastery of his materials. Like the previous work of the same author, the -novel is intended to support a certain didactic principle, but for the -accomplishment of this purpose, recourse is had to an awkward and -improbable plot, many of the details of which are, in a high degree, -unnatural, and often grossly revolting. The pure intentions of the -writer redeem his work from the charge of immorality, but do not set -aside the objections, in an artistic point of view, which arise from the -primary incidents on which the story is founded. Still, we are bound to -confess, that the novel, as a whole, indicates a freshness and fervor of -feeling, a ready perception of the multifarious aspects of character -and society, a lively appreciation of natural beauty, and a racy vigor -of expression, which produce a strong conviction of the ability of the -author, and awaken the hope that the more mature offerings of his genius -may be contributions of sterling value to our native literature. - -_George Castriot, surnamed Scandeberg, King of Albania_, by CLEMENT C. -MOORE (D. Appleton and Co.), is an agreeable piece of biography, which -owes its interest no less to the simplicity and excellent taste of the -narrative, than to the romantic adventures of its subject. Castriot was -a hero of the fifteenth century, who gained a wide renown for his -exploits in the warfare of the Christians against the Turks, as well as -for the noble and attractive qualities of his private character. Dr. -Moore has made free use of one of the early chronicles, in the -construction of his narrative, and exhibits rare skill in clothing the -events in a modern costume, while he retains certain quaint and -expressive touches of the antique. - -George P. Putnam has issued the second volume of _The Leather Stocking -Tales_, by J. FENIMORE COOPER, in the author's revised edition, -containing _The Last of the Mohicans_, to which characteristic and -powerful work Mr. Cooper is so largely indebted for his world-wide -reputation. He will lose nothing by the reprint of these masterly Tales, -as they will introduce him to a new circle of younger readers, while the -enthusiasm of his old admirers can not fail to be increased with every -fresh perusal of the experiences of the inimitable Leather Stocking. - -C.M. Saxton has published a neat edition of Professor JOHNSTON'S -_Lectures on the Relations of Science and Agriculture_, which produced a -very favorable impression when delivered before the New York State -Agricultural Society, and the Members of the Legislature, in the month -of January last. Among the subjects discussed in this volume, are the -relations of physical geography, of geology, and mineralogy, of botany, -vegetable physiology, and zoology to practical agriculture; the -connection of chemistry with the practical improvement of the soil, and -with the principles of vegetable and animal growth; and the influence of -scientific knowledge on the general elevation of the agricultural -classes. These lectures present a lucid exposition of the latest -discoveries in agricultural chemistry, and it is stated by competent -judges, that their practical adaptation to the business of the farmer -will gain the confidence of every cultivator of the soil by whom they -are perused. - -An elaborate work from the pen of a native Jew, entitled _A Descriptive -Geography of Palestine_, by RABBI JOSEPH SCHWARTZ, has been translated -from the Hebrew by ISAAC LEESER, and published by A. Hart, Philadelphia. -The author, who resided for sixteen years in the Holy Land, claims to -have possessed peculiar advantages for the preparation of a work on this -subject, in his knowledge of the languages necessary for successful -discovery, and in the results of personal observations continued for -several years with uncommon zeal and assiduity. The volume is handsomely -embellished with maps and pictorial illustrations, the latter from the -hand of a Jewish artist, and appears, in all respects, to be well -adapted to the race, for whose use it is especially intended. - -_The Life of Commodore Talbot_, by HENRY T. TUCKERMAN (New York, J.C. -Riker), was originally intended for the series of American Biography, -edited by President Sparks, but on the suspension of that work, was -prepared for publication in a separate volume. Commodore Talbot was born -in Bristol county, Massachusetts, and at an early age commenced a -seafaring life in the coasting trade, between Rhode Island and the -Southern States. Soon after the breaking out of the Revolution--having -been present at the siege of Boston as a volunteer--he offered his -services to General Washington, and was at once employed in the -discharge of arduous and responsible duties. At a subsequent period, -after having distinguished himself by various exploits of almost -reckless valor, he received a commission as Captain in the Navy of the -United States. His death took place in 1813, in the city of New York, -and his remains were interred under Trinity Church. Mr. Tuckerman has -gathered up, with commendable industry, the facts in his career, which -had almost faded from the memory, and rescued from oblivion the name of -a brave commander and devoted patriot. The biography abounds with -interesting incidents, which, as presented in the flowing and graceful -narrative of the author, richly reward perusal, as well as present the -character of the subject in a very attractive light. Several pleasing -episodes are introduced in the course of the volume, which relieve it -from all tendency to dryness and monotony. - -_The Quarterlies for October._--The first on our table is _The American -Biblical Repository_, edited by J.M. SHERWOOD (New York), commencing -with an article on "The Hebrew Theocracy," by Rev. E.C. Wines, which -presents, in a condensed form, the views which have been brought before -the public by that gentleman in his popular lectures on Jewish Polity. -"The Position of the Christian Scholar" is discussed in a sound and -substantial essay, by Rev. Albert Barnes. Dyer's "Life of Calvin" -receives a summary condemnation at the hands of a sturdy advocate of the -Five Points. Professor Tayler Lewis contributes a learned dissertation -on the "Names for Soul" among the Hebrews, as an argument for the -immortality of the soul. Other articles are on Lucian's "de Morte -Peregrini," "The Relations of the Church to the Young," "The Harmony of -Science and Revelation," and "Secular and Christian Civilization." The -number closes with several "Literary and Critical Notices," written, for -the most part, with ability and fairness, though occasionally betraying -the influence of strong theological predilections. - -_The North American Review_ sustains the character for learned -disquisition, superficial elegance, and freedom from progressive and -liberal ideas, which have formed its principal distinction under the -administration of its present editor. This venerable periodical, now in -its thirty-eighth year, has been, in some sense, identified with the -history of American literature, although it can by no means be regarded -as an exponent of its present aspect and tendencies. It belongs -essentially to a past age, and shows no sympathy with the earnest, -aspiring, and aggressive traits of the American character. Indeed its -spirit is more in accordance with the timid and selfish conservatism of -Europe, than with the free, bold, and hopeful temperament of our -Republic. The subjects to which the present number is mainly devoted, as -well as the manner in which they are treated, indicate the peculiar -tastes of the Review, and give a fair specimen of its recent average -character. The principal articles are on "Mahomet and his Successors," -"The Navigation of the Ancients," "Slavic Language and Literature," -"Cumming's Hunter's Life," "The Homeric Question," all of which are -chiefly made up from the works under review, presenting admirable models -of tasteful compilation and abridgment, but singularly destitute of -originality, freshness, and point. An article on "Everett's Orations" -pays an appreciative tribute to the literary and rhetorical merits of -that eminent scholar. "The Works of John Adams" receive an appropriate -notice. "Furness's History of Jesus" is reviewed in a feeble and shallow -style, unworthy the magnitude of the heresy attacked, and the number -closes with a clever summary of "Laing's Observations on Europe," and -one or two "Critical Notices." - -The _Methodist Quarterly Review_ opens with a second paper on "Morell's -Philosophy of Religion," in which the positions of that writer are -submitted to a severe logical examination. The conclusions of the -reviewer may be learned from the passage which closes the article. "We -believe Mr. Morell to be a sincere and earnest man, one who reverences -Christianity, and really desires its advancement, but we also believe -that for this very reason his influence may be the more pernicious; for -in attempting to make a compromise with the enemies of truth, he has -compromised truth itself; and in abandoning what he deemed mere -antiquated outposts to the foe, he has surrendered the very citadel." -The next article is a profound and learned statement of the "Latest -Results of Ethnology," translated from the German of Dr. G.L. KRIEGK. -This is followed by a discussion of the character of John Calvin, as a -scholar, a theologian, and a reformer. The writer commends the manifest -impartiality of Dyer's "Life of Calvin," although he believes that it -will not be popular with the "blind admirers of the Genevan Reformer, -and that the Roman Catholics, as in duty bound, will prefer the -caricature of Monsieur Audin." "The Church and China," "Bishop -Warburton," and "California," are the subjects of able articles, and -the number closes with a variety of short reviews, miscellanies, and -intelligence. The last named department is not so rich in the present -number, as we usually find it, owing probably to the absence of Prof. -M'Clintock in Europe, whose cultivated taste, comprehensive learning, -and literary vigilance admirably qualify him to give a record of -intellectual progress in every civilized country, such as we look for in -vain in any contemporary periodical. - -_The Christian Review_ is a model of religious periodical literature, -not exclusively devoted to theological subjects, but discussing the -leading questions of the day, political, social, and literary, in -addition to those belonging to its peculiar sphere, from a Christian -point of view, and almost uniformly with great learning, vigor, -profoundness, and urbanity, and always with good taste and exemplary -candor. The present number has a large proportion of articles of -universal interest, among which we may refer to those on "Socialism in -the United States," and "The Territories on the Pacific," as presenting -a succinct view of the subjects treated of, and valuable no less for the -important information they present, than for the clearness and strength -with which the positions of the writers are sustained. The first of -these articles is from the pen of Rev. Samuel Osgood, minister of the -Church of the Messiah, in this city, and the other is by Prof. W. -Gammel, of Brown University. "The Confessions of Saint Augustine," "The -Apostolical Constitutions," "Philosophical Theology," and a critical -examination of the passage in Joshua describing the miracle of the sun -standing still, are more especially attractive to the theological -reader, while a brilliant and original essay on "Spirit and Form," by -Rev. Mr. Turnbull, can not fail to draw the attention of the lovers of -æsthetic disquisition. The brief sketches of President Taylor and of -Neander are written with judgment and ability, and the "Notices of New -Publications" give a well-digested survey of the current literature of -the last three months. The diligence and zeal exhibited in this -department, both by the Christian Review and the Methodist Quarterly -present a favorable contrast to the disgraceful poverty of the North -American in a branch which was admirably sustained under the editorship -of President Sparks and Dr. Palfrey. - -_Brownson's Quarterly_ is characterized by the extravagance of -statement, the rash and sweeping criticisms, and the ecclesiastical -exclusiveness for which it has obtained an unenviable preeminence. Its -principal articles are on "Gioberti," "The Confessional," "Dana's Poems -and Prose Writings," and the "Cuban Expedition." Some inferences may be -drawn as to the Editor's taste in poetry from his remarks on Tennyson, -in whom he "can discover no other merit than harmonious verse and a -little namby-pamby sentiment." He strikes the discriminating reviewer as -"a man of feeble intellect," and "a poet for puny transcendentalists, -beardless boys, and miss in her teens." - - - - -Fashions for November. - - -[Illustration: FIG. 1.--PROMENADE AND CARRIAGE COSTUMES.] - -As the cold weather approaches, different shades of brown, dust color, -green, and other grave hues, predominate, diversified with pink, blue, -lilac, and purple. The beautiful season of the Indian Summer, which -prevails with us in November, allows the use of out-of-door costume, of -a character similar to that of September, the temperature being too high -to require cloaks or pelises. Bonnets composed of Leghorn and fancy -straws, are appropriate for the season. They are trimmed with _noeuds_ -of pink, straw color, and white silk, which are used to decorate -Florence straws. These are ornamented, in the interior, with _mancini_, -or bunches of harebells, heaths, and jacinths, intermixed with rose-buds -and light foliage. There are plain and simple _pailles de riz_, having -no other ornament than a kind of _noeud_ of white silk, placed at the -side, and the interior of the front lined with pink or white _tulle_, -and clusters of jacinths, tuberoses, and rose-buds, forming a most -charming _mélange_. Fancy straws, called _paille de Lausanne_, are very -fashionable abroad, resembling embroideries of straw, and trimmed with a -bouquet of the wild red poppies, half blown, while those which are -placed next the face are of a softer hue, with strings of straw colored -silk ribbon. - -FIG. 1 represents a graceful afternoon promenade costume, and a carriage -costume. The figure on the left shows the promenade costume. The dress -is made quite plain, with low body and long sleeves, with cuffs of plain -fulled muslin; chemisette of lace, reaching to the throat, and finished -with a narrow row encircling the neck. _Pardessus_ of silk or satin, -trimmed in an elegant manner, with lace of the same color, three rows of -which encircle the lower part, and two rows the half long sleeves. These -rows are of broader lace than the rows placed on either side of the -front of the _pardessus_. Drawn white crape bonnet, decorated with small -straw colored flowers, both in the interior and on the exterior. - -The figure on the right shows the carriage costume. It is a dress of -pale pink _poult de soié_; the corsage, high on the shoulders, opens a -little in the front. It has a small cape, falling deep at the back, and -narrowing toward the point, pinked at the edge; the waist and point -long; the sleeves reach but a very little below the elbow, and are -finished with broad lace ruffles. The skirt has three deep scalloped -flounces, a beautiful spray of leaves being embroidered in each scallop. -Manteau of India muslin, trimmed with a broad frill, the embroidering of -which corresponds with the flowers of the dress. The bonnet of _paille -de riz_; trimmed inside and out with bunches of roses; the form very -open. There are others of the same delicate description, lined with pink -_tulle_, and decorated with tips of small feathers, shaded pink and -white, or terminated with tips of pink _marabout_. - -[Illustration: FIG. 2.--MORNING COSTUME.] - -FIG. 2 represents a morning costume. Dress high, with a small ruffle -and silk cravat. The material is plain _mousseline de soié_, white, with -a small frill protruding from the slightly open front. The body is full, -and the skirt has a broad figured green stripe. Sleeves full and -demi-long, with broad lace ruffles. The skirt is very full, and has -three deep flounces. - -[Illustration: FIG. 3.--OPERA COSTUME.] - -FIG. 3 is a plain, and very neat costume for the opera. The body, -composed of blue or green silk, satin, or velvet, fits closely. The -sleeves are also tight to the elbows, when they enlarge and are turned -over, exhibiting a rich lining of pink or orange, with scalloped edges. -The corsage is open in front, and turned over, with a collar, made of -material like that of the sleeves, and also scalloped. Chemisette of -lace, finished at the throat with a fulled band and _petite_ ruffle. -Figures 2 and 3 show patterns of the extremely simple CAPS now in -fashion; simple, both in their form and the manner in which they are -trimmed. Those for young ladies partake mostly of the lappet form, -simply decorated with a pretty _noeud_ of ribbon, from which droop -graceful streamers of the same, or confined on each side the head with -half-wreaths of the wild rose, or some other very light flower. Those -intended for ladies of a more advanced age are of a _petit_ round form, -and composed of a perfect cloud of _gaze_, or _tulle_, intermixed with -flowers. - -TRAVELING DRESSES are principally composed of _foulard coutit_, or of -flowered jaconets, with the _cassaquette_ of the same material. Plain -cachmires are also much used, because they are not liable to crease. -They are generally accompanied by _pardessus_ of the same material. When -the dress is of a sombre hue, the trimmings are of a different color, so -as to enliven and enrich them. The skirts are made quite plain, but very -long and of a moderate breadth; the bodies high and plain, and -embroidered up the fronts. - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - - -Words surrounded by _ are italicized. - -Obvious punctuation errors have been repaired, other punctuations have -been left as printed in the paper book. - -Captions added to captionless illustrations. - -Obvious printer's errors have been repaired, other inconsistent -spellings have been kept, including: -- use of hyphen (e.g. "birth-day" and "birthday"); -- any other inconsistent spellings (e.g. "panel" and "pannel"). - -Following proper names have been corrected: -- Pg 728, "Fanueil" corrected to be "Faneuil" (Faneuil Hall). -- Pg 773, "Hazledeans" corrected to be "Hazeldeans" (The Hazeldeans in -chorus) and "Higgingbotham's" corrected to be "Higginbotham's" (Captain -Higginbotham's lead). -- Pg 800, "Agatha mother's" corrected to be "Agatha's mother" (found -Agatha's mother alone). -- Pg 846, "tartantula" corrected to be "tarantula" (bite of a -tarantula). -- Pg 860, "Lowz" corrected to be "Lonz" (Lonz Powers). -- Pg 860, "Minifee" corrected to be "Minifie" (Wm. Minifie and Co.). - -Following corrections are by removal or addition of a word: -- Pg 723, word "by" removed (surrounded by [by] tall trees). -- Pg 781, word "in" added (and in spite of). -- Pg 801, word "I" added (that I was not sorry). -- Pg 855, word "are" removed (there are [are] thirty-two). - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. VI, -November 1850, Vol. I, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARPER'S *** - -***** This file should be named 40147-8.txt or 40147-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/1/4/40147/ - -Produced by Judith Wirawan, David Kline, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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