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wards them, loudly reprehending the men for their carelessness. But if they were to blame, he was no less so, for he showed little address in following the fugitives, and managed to take a wrong turn in the passage, which led both him and the myrmidons astray, so that the prisoners got clear off.

How Jocelyn and Dick Taverner contrived to reach the Vintry Wharf, neither of them very distinctly knew such was the hurried manner in which they passed through the tavern; but there they were, precisely at the moment that Sir Giles Mompesson, having fought his way through all opposition, issued from the porch at the head of his band.

Quite satisfied with his previous encounter with the redoubtable knight, and anxious to escape before his evasion should be discovered, Dick beckoned to his companion, and making all the haste they could to the stairs, they both jumped into the nearest wherry, when the apprentice ordered the two watermen within it to row for their lives to London Bridge.

To be continued in our next.

MAKING A WILL AFTER DEATH.

THERE lived in Paris, a few years ago, an old notary, who was, indeed, one of the most respected inhabitants of the first arrondissement. He possessed the confidence of the richest and most respectable families. His name was the synonym of probity; he was one of those excellent citizens who, by the severity of their morals, and the rectitude of their principles, remind one of the virtues of ancient days. He exercised his functions like a magistrate.

This notary, whose name it is not important to mention, had a numerous family and an ample fortune. At eighty years of age he had retired from business, leaving his practice in the hands of his eldest son. One day, when an officious friend asked him if he had made his will, the old notary replied, with a singular smile, that he would have time enough to make it after his death. The friend looked at the old man, fearing that he had suddenly taken leave of his senses. The notary smiled again.

"I understand your thought," said he, "but I take my four meals a day; I walk without a stick, I read without spectacles, and I have more wit than the greater part of those who pass for having a good deal, in this age when there is so little to be found. I have already told you so; I shall make my will when I am dead."

His friend said nothing further on the subject, but recounted this conversation to the notary's son, who did not seem to be at all surprised at it.

"I am aware of it," said he ; "it is a point on which one cannot argue with him; my dear father believes that he has a secret by which he can bring himself again to life. It is an illusion which has always astonished me in a man of such rare intelligence."

This answer very much astounded the friend; and, curious to know what this secret could be, he asked the notary's son if he knew what it was?

"Perfectly well," replied he; "it is a thing within reach of the poorest purse. This marvellous recipe is sold at the corner of every street in Paris, and usually costs from seventy-five centimes to a franc. My father learned it from a stranger, to whom he had rendered an important service; an Italian Count, a descendant, perhaps, of Cagliostro, and whom, it seems to me, I can still see, with his tall figure, his grey hair, his noble bearing, his black eyes, which shone with a surprising fire, and his decorations. His only payment was the revealing of this mystery, and my father felt quite contented with this quittance."

The friend insisted no longer, and the notary continued to live like a man who felt himself stronger than

the tomb.

Some time after this the old man experienced one of those inexplicable sensations which, to certain powerful organizations, are a presage of death. He called his servant, an old Breton, who had waited on him forty years, with the patience of a beaver, and the fidelity of a dog.

"Jean," said he, laying his hand on the shoulder of his ancient servitor, "remember well what I am going to say to thee, and swear to me to do what I am going to ask of thee."

"I swear it !" said the Breton.

"If I should die suddenly, make me take an ice as soon as it shall be evident that I am dead."

The Breton, accustomed to passive obedience, promised to do so without making any observation. From that day, every evening during a whole month, the notary repeated his commands to the old servant.

One morning the notary was struck with apoplexy. The physician declared that every remedy was useless, and that it would be impossible to recall him to life, even for five minutes.

The rattling in the old man's throat was perfectly frightful.

His bloody eyes stared upon the Breton with terrific fixity. For a moment he raised himself on his elbow, reached his hand towards the servant, and said to him, in a voice which seemed like the last cry of the deathagony

"Remember!" and he fell back on the pillow a lifeless mass.

He was dead.

It was known that the notary had many arrangements to make: he had frequently stated his intention of leaving legacies to a grandson whose mother was dead, and to several of the servants. In this patriarchal family, in which respect for the paternal authority was preserved entire, the old notary's death excited in the mind of his eldest son a pious regret that he was unable to obey wishes, which, though he had partly divined them, he did not clearly comprehend.

A profound silence reigned in the chamber of death, that terrible silence which is interrupted only by sobs. Jean, kneeling in a corner, was praying with that fervent ardor which the Breton peasants drink in with their mother's milk.

When he had done praying, he arose. "Monsieur," said he to the son, "this is the moment."

The son looked at the servant as one who does not comprehend.

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Yes, monsieur," continued Jean, "it is perhaps a sacrilege, but I have sworn-I must obey." The son suddenly rembered the belief which the old notary had entertained since the visit of the Italian Count.

"Thou art a brave and worthy servitor," said he to Jean; but dost thou believe that what my poor father has demanded of thee can possibly be of any use?"

"I believe in God," replied the Breton; "if my action is criminal, I have prayed that the fault may rest with me only. I will do what I promised." 'Go, then," said the son.

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Jean went out, and soon returned, bringing an ice upon a tray. He approached the notary's bed, and raised the sheet which a pious hand had thrown over the face. The features were already stamped with that character of serene grandeur and majesty which death imprints on the forehead of men, these elder sons of God.

Jean laid his hand upon the notary's breast; it was already cold as marble; the heart beat no longer. Stiffness had entered into the limbs when the vital warmth departed. The old servant opened the lips of the dead, and slipped a spoonful of ice between his teeth. Jean himself was as pale as the corpse of his master. He continued his work, which borrowed, from the end which he proposed to himself, a character of mystery, solemnity, and expectation. Suddenly a shudder passed through the frame of the notary; he opened his eyes, and sat up.

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My father!" cried the son, springing towards the bed with open arms.

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THE SPIRIT OF THE OLDEN TIME. EARLY in the war (of American Independence) the inhabitants on the frontier of Burke county, North Carolina, being apprehensive of an attack by the Indians, it was determined to seek protection in a fort in a more densely populated neighborhood in an interior settlement. A party of soldiers was sent to protect them on their retreat.

The families assembled, the line of march was taken towards their place of destination, and they proceeded some miles unmolested-the soldiers marching in a hollow square, with the refugee families in the centre. The Indians, who had watched these movements, had laid a plan for their destruction. The road to be travelled lay through a dense forest in the fork of a river, where the Indians concealed themselves, and waited till the travellers were in the desired spot. Suddenly the war-hoop sounded in front, and on either side; a large body of painted warriors rushed in, filling the gap by which the whites had entered, and an appalling crash of fire-arms followed. The soldiers, however, were prepared; such as chanced to be near the trees, darted behind them, and began to ply the deadly rifle ; the others prostrated themselves upon the earth, among the tall grass, and crawled to trees. The families screened themselves as best they could.

The onset was long and fiercely urged; ever and anon, amid the din and smoke, the warriors would rush, tomahawk in hand, towards the centre; but they were repulsed by the cool intrepidity of the backwoods riflemen. Still they fought on, determined on the destruction of the victims who offered such despe

rate resistance.

All at once an appalling sound greeted the ears of the women and children in the centre; it was a cry from their defenders-a cry for powder! "Our pow"Have you any? der is given out," they exclaimed. Bring us some, or we can fight no longer!" A woman of the party had a good supply. She spread her apron on the ground, poured her powder into it, and going round from soldier to soldier, as they stood behind the trees, bade each who needed powder put down his hat, and poured a quantity upon it. Thus she went round the line of defence, till her whole stock, and all sho could obtain from others, was distributed.

At last the savages gave way, and, pressed by their foes, were driven off the ground. The victorious whites returned to those for whose safety they had ventured into the wilderness. Inquiries were made as to who had been killed and one running up, cried"Where is the woman that gave us the powder? want to see her."

I

"Yes! yes! let us see her!" responded another and another; "without her we should all have been

lost!"

The soldiers ran about among the women and children looking for her, making inquiries. Directly "My son, I am dead," said the notary, raising his came others from the pursuit, one of whom observcold and livid hand; "trouble not this hour. Bringing the commotion, asked the cause, and was told. a notary; go--my second life will last but one hour." The voice of the dead man had an accent so clear

and so firm, his glance was so full of fire, his gesture so authoritative, that the son obeyed. A cold sweat stood upon his brow.

"Jean," resumed the corpse of the notary, "thanks. Get ready quickly a table, pens, and ink; set a chair. Good."

The son entered, followed by a notary, who had been intimately acquainted with the patriarch of the company.

"Make haste, my dear D-," exclaimed the dead man, "I count the moments."

The notary took a seat, dipped his pen in ink, and commenced the preamble usual in acts of this kind. When he had finished he raised his head. "Very good," said the corpse: now write."

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You are looking in the wrong place," he replied. "Is she killed? Ah, we was afraid of that!" exclaimed many voices.

"Not when I saw her," answered the soldier. "When the Indians ran off, she was on her knees in prayer at the foot of yonder tree, and there I left her."

There was a simultaneous rush to the tree; and there, to their great joy, they found the woman safe, and still on her knees in prayer. Thinking not of herself, she received their applause without manifesting any other feeling than gratitude to heaven for their great deliverance. Noble Deeds of American Women.

GOD, in his providence, sometimes seems harsh with those he loves, and speaks roughly to those for whom yet he has great mercy in store.

Business Cards,

cause of unfathomable wonder to Mr. E. A. Brooks's envious Broadway cotemporaries, that he can afford to sell such good articles in the boot and shoe line, for ladies, gentlemen, misses and masters, at such remarkably low prices The public, however, does not stop to inquire. They find they can get better articles at No. 575 Broadway, than they have been in the habit of paying thirty per cent. more for, and they rejoice exceedingly. Mr. Brooks keeps his down-town establishment, at No. 150 Fulton street, well supplied with his excellent

manufactures, and it is, as it ever has been, a great public accommodation.

paralleled in any former period of the world's history. stituency of some 400,000, and annually expends, in METROPOLITAN BOOT AND SHOE EMPORIUM.-It is a A species of antagonistic social struggling has grown relief for its members about $500,000. Men of the out of this state of things, argue the associationists, first standing in the community are enrolled in its which can only be subdued in its ultimate disastrous ranks, and its character and position are in every way consequences by equalizing, to some extent, the condi- unexceptionable. Much of this respectability and tion of the antagonistic classes. The ultra social re-elevation is attributable to its American growth, and formers declare that the only panacea for the extinc- to the distinctive features in its organization, growing tion of our existing social evils, rests in Communism out of its disconnection with the parent society. One and Association. The more sober advocates of ame- of the most important of which may be traced to the lioration look to the establishment of Benevolent So- abrogation by the American branch, of all its objeccieties as a specific sufficiently powerful to mitigate tionable convivial tendencies. The American Order the evils under which society at present labors. Act- enforces strictly temperance principles in its meetings. ting upon this last consideration, societies of every The adaptation, too, of its organization to the characconceivable form and character have sprung into exist-ter of the institutions under which we live, and the ence within the last thirty years, all professing to have systematized form of sound government necessarily in view the amelioration and improvement of the social induced by this adaptation, are also main causes in condition our race. producing the present elevated state of the Order. Each Lodge is governed by its own code of by-laws,

CARPETS, MATCHLESS IN DESIGN AND BEAUTY OF APPEARANCE.-The most elegant description of carpets ever of Messrs. Peterson & Humphrey, on the corner of Broadway and White street, and we advise all who wish the gratification of purchas ing a beautiful floor covering, obtained at a reasonable rate, to make

exhibited in this city can be found at the well-stocked establishment

their selections at this establishment

GURNEY'S DAGUERREOTYPES.-The perfection attained by Gurney and his assistants in the production of sun pencillings, has rendered his extensive gallery, No. 349 Broadway, the resort of all desirous of procuring faithful, distinct, and superior pictures, either of single faces or groups, children or adults. His superiority as a contained in his saloon. Call and look at them.

PRINTING AND STEREOTYPING.-W. H. TINSON, 22 Spruce street, is prepared to execute all orders for Book and Job Work, with care, expedition, and on reasonable terms.

The main design of all these associations is to affi

Daguerrean artist can be seen by all who will examine the specimens liate together the masses in one common brotherhood and, within certain limits, becomes an independent for mutual help and support, in cases of need, sick-power within itself, subject to the Grand Lodge of its ness, or any other distress. A common fund is raised for this purpose, and a species of individual, and yet aggregated, interest is generated in each separate fraternity.

NEW YORK, SATURDAY, AUGUST 13, 1853.

AMERICAN BENEVOLENT ASSOCIATIONS.

poses.

own State, which is again a limited sovereign power, amenable only to the authority vested in the Grand Lodge of the United States, which is the highest | legislative power recognised by the Order.

Foremost among these associations, and indeed the The highest executive authority is vested in a In a periodical designed to embrace every object of pioneer of them all, on this continent, may be classed chief officer, designated a "Grand Sire," elected every interest, distinctively American in character, the sub- the Order of Odd Fellowship. two years, and the several States are presided over by ject of our present article requires no apology for its The institution of Masonry we leave out of the cate-a" Grand Master," in each jurisdiction. Intermediate insertion. The numerous benevolent societies exist-gory of benevolent societies, because it assumes a subordinate functionaries are entrusted with executive ing in the United States, which are spread broad-cast more mystical, if not a more elevated character, than powers, and serve to produce a thorough and wellover the land, from the Kennebec to the Pacific, gives that of being simply organized for benevolent pur-disciplined system of government that works with an importance to the theme well worthy of attention. admirable regularity and precision, insuring stability The vast multiplication and rapid growth of these and coherency to the body corporate. associations in our country cannot fail to have attracted the attention of even the most cursory observer of passing events. They present indeed a newly deveveloped state of society. For the masses appear actually to have become crystallized, as it were, into an associated form. It is asserted by many that this is the result of a newly developed power, by which the existing evils of society are to be reformed, if not wholly obliterated. Without attempting to meet these ultra views of the associative movements now in progress, we may with advantage glance at some of the probable causes which have led to the formation of societies, expressly designed to counteract the evils of our present social organization.

We take as our starting point the indisputable fact, that these associated movements originate, and are most successful in their operations, under free governments. The freedom of opinion and the consequent feeling of individual rights, engendered in the masses under a government of liberal institutions, superinduces a desire in the less privileged classes to better their condition, and to coalesce together for the furtherance of this object. If to these causes we add, the irresistible struggle towards the attainment of wealth, now so madly predominant amongst us, the actual existing state of classifications in society, entirely based upon what may be termed "a moneyed aristocracy," we arrive at a true solution of the causes why the operative and middle portions of community seek to incorporate themselves into associations for the improvement of their social condition.

To secure the former, ample funds are raised in each subordinate Lodge, by weekly payments, and from this stock sick and distressed members are entitled to relief, and are insured a competent burial fee on the death of themselves or their wives.

Odd Fellowship dates its origin in England, where it cannot be traced back, with any reliable foundation, The ostensible "mission" of Odd Fellowship, which further than the middle of the last century. It ap- is professed in common by the other benevolent assopears to have been originally a convivial association of ciations, is to afford “mutual help and support" to its mechanics, who met periodically to enjoy themselves; members, and to promote the growth of philanthropic and by the payment of a small weekly contribution, principles. they secured a fund, from which members were assisted in sickness. Certain grotesque forms of institution were adopted to give piquancy to their hebdomadal gatherings; and to insure security in their operations, obligations of secrecy were enjoined upon their members. The whole affair in its incipient state appears to have been a jovial, free-and-easy concern, where good fellowship and conviviality prevailed, unrestricted by any definite organization. In the process of time, these associations were adopted in most of the large cities in Great Britain, under a more systematized form. The fraternity, however, was confined entirely to the operative classes, and in fact became only one of those numerous benefit societies so common in Great Britain, excepting that it assumed the distinctive features of a secret organization, in imitation of the more elevated Masonic order, from which it undoubtedly took its initiative origin.

In the year 1819 a society of Odd Fellows was first organized in this country in Baltimore, by Thomas Wildey, an Englishman, who yet survives, and is very properly considered the patriarch of the Order on this continent.

The introduction of Odd Fellowship in the United States was made under the sanction and authority of the parent order in England, and continued subject to the jurisdiction, or in connection with it, until 1842, when a final separation took place between the parent stock and the American branch, which latter became then in truth the Independent Order of Odd Fellows, by which it is now so universally known.

The advocates of these associated movements of the age boldly assert that the action has been forced upon the people by the existing state of society. They argue that the rights of the masses are in danger from the vast accumulation of wealth in the hands of the (so called) privileged classes. Capitalists, they say, grind The growth of this association has been truly laborers to the dust. This feeling has induced a gra- remarkable, and its importance as a social ameliorator, dual development of individual selfishness in man, un-is no less worthy of notice. It now numbers a con

The regulations of each Lodge prescribe also certain provisions to be made for the education of orphans, and the relief of widows of deceased members. These praiseworthy objects are faithfullly and rigidly performed.

A vast amount of human suffering has doubtlessly been mitigated by the agency of this and similarly constituted associations; and the praise cannot be denied to them of fostering, by their agency, a practi cal benevolence in the habits and dispositions of their members. To induce such feelings all their formulalaries and ceremonies are framed, and these are constantly practically enforced and carried into action by the aid of systematized rules, enforcing personal attention towards the sick and needy of their brethren. We cannot dismiss our subject without noticing the objections commonly urged against these Secret Benevolent Societies. By a numerous body of our citizens they are held to be dangerous innovations, liable to perversion from their secret character, and objectionable from their want of identification with any definitely expressed religious sentiment. Their advocates meet all these charges by pointing to the charac ter and standing of their leading members, comprising as they do some of the leading statesmen of the country, men in high official situations, clergymen of every denomination, and influential citizens of every creed in politics and religion, who could not be supposed to identify themselves with any association that

by any possible contingency might be made subversive
of the duties every good citizen owes to religion and
the laws.
On the charge of antagonistic religious principles,
inherent in these associations, much argument has
been expended by opponents and advocates. The re-
cognition of a GREAT FIRST CAUSE is the fundamental
basis of their association, and the great Christian pre-
cept of Charity is enjoined upon their members and
practically carried into action. The opponents argue
that this is but a spurious kind of religious sentiment,
calculated to produce infidels; and further, that it as-
sumes prerogatives, exclusively belonging to "the
church," from which alone organized systems of chari-
ty and benevolence should issue.

the most open and honorable manner. Litigation tions, over unrequited affection? Plunge into the
now followed. After vexatious delays and heavy ex- Atlantic. Dive after the Nereids.
Let the great
penses, Mr. S. recovered possession of the picture, heaving waves play and sport with you for awhile, and
and instituted proceedings for damages against the when at last you struggle from them, and shake the
trustees. But other seizures followed, under various salted drops from your brow, in the language of one of
pretexts, until at last, as the only means of undisturb- those grand old images by the great Shakespeare :-
ed possession, it was brought to this country.
"The weak wanton Cupid

Shall from your neck unloose his amorous folds,
And like a dew drop from a lion's mane
Be shook to airy air."

But during these proceedings the portrait was attracting the attention of the public. It certainly is a master production. It has all the delicate finish of a miniature, with the strength and breadth of a portrait. There is a richness, a depth, and power of color about BULWER says, that first-rate dandies are very agreeit never evinced but by the hand of genius. The softness able fellows. Quite likely. But those of a lower of outline, the transparency of the complexion, the grade are most intolerable fellows, and not at all to be calm repose that is yet powerful and life-like, evince endured. Your first-rate dandy is perfect in all his We leave the question in the hands of the casuists, exquisite skill and power. The perfect character of appointments. He is dressed with the most consumsimply, however, noticing the fact, that late movements the monarch is apparent in the portraiture. The san- mate skill and exquisite taste. Appropriateness of among several bodies of Christian denominations ap-guine temperament, the love of ease and refinement, color, of form, is his study. His manner, besides, is pear to indicate that the church is arousing itself to a are all clearly written upon his features. But in the exceedingly polished, he is well versed in all polite sense of its duty, by providing for the physical as full, liquid, and gleaming eyes, we see the grandest things, and his urbanity and suavity are excellent well as the spiritual wants of its members. "Mutual trait in Charles's character. The calm and lofty cour- things to copy. But your ignorant, coarse, besotted Benefit Societies are now in operation, in connexion age that exalted him above misfortune, and which upon snobbish dandy, heaven save the mark! is an abominawith several churches, and others are in the course of the scaffold robed him as a martyr. As we gazed upon tion. Here comes one now, very ornamentally gotten formation, affording conclusive evidence of the mighty the picture, and thought of him in his youth, so glow-up. His face is fantastically decked out with stray new motive power of associated ing with manly beauty, so full of inspiring hopes and bits of beard. His coat is like Joseph's coat, of many effort, which is gradually diffusing its benefit through-brilliant auguries, and as we contrasted all this with colors. His hat is worn jauntily, and his thin legs out the world, a power that, if kept within proper re- the dark, sad events that followed, with that terrible evince an absence of calf, which his head does not. straint, and divested of ultraistic theories, may lead to scene before Whitehall, we could have wept over pro- He hath a bold stare and a mighty collar. The last is the extinction of many of the existing evils of our mises thus broken and hopes so shattered. so big and so white that one wonders if it be not the social condition. jaw bone of an ass. His fingers are adorned with rings of wondrous size. He swears with very good accent, he hath a rare appetite for strong potations, and knows a thing or two about cards. There are many of these that throng Broadway. From all such may we be delivered.

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influence of this 66

A PICTURE.

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A VERY remarkable picture-remarkable for its romantic history, its associations, and as a rare work of art -is now on exhibition, in this city, at the Stuyvesant Institute. It is the portrait of Charles I., by Velasquez, the celebrated Spanish painter.

If our readers have any romance in them, they will see this picture. Mr. Snare is quite an enthusiast, and discourses about it most eloquently. We do not know how an hour could be passed more delightfully than in listening to its strange history, and in gazing upon its marvelleous and rare beauties.

FROM the forests and the valleys throngs of pilgrims

Ar the Crystal Palace there is exhibited by Mr.

from its perfect resemblance, and high artistic excel

Our readers remember the wild and romantic expe- are hastening now to the seaside, eager for the salt Hall, of Boston, a statuette of Daniel Webster, which, dition of Prince Charles, accompanied by his scape-breath of Eolus as wafted o'er the crested surface of grace favorite, Buckingham, on a stolen visit to Spain, the sea. Hoary and aged as old Neptune is, he wins lence, attracts much attention. It is of full length, for a glance at the Infanta, between whom were then many devotees even from the shades of Sylvanus. pending negotiations of marriage. It was during

And, indeed, there is a glory and a beauty upon the

sea shore. The wide waters have a something of awe

and grandeur about them. There is a wild delight in
listening to the war of the breakers, as they hurl
themselves fiercely upon the shore, as if an armament
were besieging earth. There is pleasure in wandering
along the sanded beach, with the surf surging up to your
feet with a soft murmur, while you recall that quaint
image of Alexander Smith's :—

"The bridegroom sea

Is toying with the shore, his wedded bride,
And in the fullness of his marriage joy,
He decorates her tawny brow with shells,-
Retires a pace, to see how fair she looks,
Then proud, runs up to kiss her."

Charles's stay at Madrid that Velasquez-then only twenty-four years of age, and in the first dawn of his fame-painted a portrait of the Prince. That the portrait was highly esteemed by the Prince, is evident from the fact that he presented the painter with one hundred crowns. But before the picture was entirely finished, the marriage was broken off, and the two adventurers returned hastily to England. From this date, all trace of the portrait by Velasquez was lost, and from that period up to within a late date various speculations have been made by writers as to its disappearance. But in the year 1845-thanks to the researches, the skill, and discernment of Mr. Snare-the picture emerged from its obscurity. In an auction sale of pictures at Oxford, Mr. Snare bought what was But sea bathing is the luxury that brings these supposed to be a portrait of Charles, by Vandyke. throngs to the beach. All along from Newport to But, upon examination, Mr. S. was led to believe that Cape May, crowds are battling in the lusty arms of this was the long-lost Velasquez. Certain circum- Oceanus. As you gaze upon them from afar, it would stances led to the confirmation of this hypothesis, and seem as if the mermaids and the mermans had come by diligent research, he was at last enabled, by a com- from their coral caves to re-act their ancient sports. bination of corroborative testimony and internal evi- But it is wonderful how a dip in the salt brine knocks dence, to establish it beyond question. No sooner, away the cob-webs of the brains. And it is no less however, had he made this discovery known, than Mr. wonderful how it sweeps away stagnant places in the Snare became the victim of the most bitter and unre- heart. As old Neptune hurls himself against your lenting persecutions. The trustees of the Earl of Fife side, and catches you up in his great eager arms, the declared the picture to have been once in the posses- blood leaps with the old boyhood glow. Have you a sion of the Earl, and that it had been stolen from him dread of duns, a fear of sheriffs? Have you any about forty years before. Upon this ground they ob- seated sorrow? A dive beneath the surf, and you can tained a warrant for its seizure, although it was not laugh at them. Are you in love? Do you sentimendenied that Mr. Snare had obtained possession of it in Italize to the moon? Have you sighs, and lamenta

and about two and a half feet high. The attitude is

highly graceful; one hand resting in the bosom and

the other hanging by the side. He is standing by a pedestal over which is thrown his cloak, and at its base are two closed volumes. Copies of this beautiful

work can be obtained at very low prices. The exhibitor agrees to furnish marble ones at forty dollars each, of any work of art, of similar excellence, that could be and plaster ones at twenty dollars. We do not know obtained for anything like so small a sum. Every gentleman should have one in his library.

THACKERAY is to give a lecture in London on America. What a rich, glorious, humorous, eloquent, quaint, and inimitable thing it will be! It would be a treat to hear, worth a journey across the Atlantic. He is represented as being very enthusiastic in his praise of our couutry in his conversations.

TO AGENTS AND CORRESPONDENTS. THE Publisher receives numerous inquiries respecting the terms to Agents. They are as follows:

Any person sending five or more subscribers may reserve fifteen per cent. of the amount. Those desiring to devote special attention to canvassing will be furnished with the office receipts upon satisfactory reference being given.. To such, an additional per centage is allowed. Already many agents are doing a very

successful business.

Communications addressed to the publisher, at 75 Nassau street, will meet with prompt attention.

Invariable price of "THE NEW YORK JOURNAL," to mail

subscribers, only one dollar a year, in advance.

Persons in the city sending their name and address to the

office, will be served by the Carriers at twelve and a half cents per month.

FERN LEAVES.

NUMBER IV.

Written for the New York Journal.

a live hen, whose spasmodic attempts at locomotion he
arrests with the gravity of a Solomon-invoking, oc-
casionally, some patron saint, as the hen flaps her im-
patient wings too near his great honest eyes. Ah,
Johnny, if the perspiration stands on your forehead at
that, what will you do when you have an unruly
wife to manage? That hen don't begin-claws-wings

The Ferry Boat. UNHOOK the chains! merrily our boat cuts through the rippling waters. Good-bye to the city, with its dust and din and whirl. Good-bye to its stifling-beak-and all! atmosphere and hot, dirty pavements. Good-by to boxes and bales, and dray-carts, and omnibuses, and fashion's butterflies; welcome the sea-" the blue, the fresh, the ever free."

That's a minister-I'll bet my hymn book on it;white cravat, so stiff; such an inky black coat, and such a petrified manner. My dear sir, untwist that pulpit-face and smile once, in the very teeth of your creed. That Pharisaical phiz pleases neither man nor your Maker. Has "Our Father" spread all this beauty before us that you might throw over it a pall of gloom? Let your heart leap with the dashing waters

"All hands" crowd to the bow of the boat, for the day has been insufferably sultry ;--all save a few fine ladies, whose peacock apparel makes them voluntary prisoners in the cabin. Just as you like, fair dames: I wouldn't lose that sunset for all the silk gowns inget off your pedestal-speak a kind word to that Gotham.

nice old farmer, who sits next you.
thousand things you don't know.
or else shut up your Bible.

He can tell you a
Give him a smile,

I have had my

Ah! here we are at the pier.
"penny's" worth. I hope the reader has had his.
FANNY FERN.

See that young mechanic, leaning over the guard chains. All day long he has been sweltering in that vapor bath, a city shop; he has toiled cheerfully, too, for a little piping voice rang its music in his ears, making his nerves brass and his muscles iron. See, his hat is off, and the cool evening breeze (upon which, thank God, no aristocrat can lay an embargo) plays JOHN STIRLING, writing of modern Rome, has the lovingly over his toil-flushed brow. He has never following graphic figure: "The usual state of Rome read Shakespeare, or Milton, or Shelley, or Words-is quiet and sober. One could almost fancy the actual worth-but does that golden orb, as it quenches its generation held their breath and stole by on tiptoe in. bright beams in the sparkling waters, send no thrill of presence of so memorable a Past." pleasure through his sturdy frame? Is his eye blind to yon forest-crowned hills reposing in their emerald beauty or this bright, sapphire sea, flecked with snowy sails, whose crested waves leap exultingly Is his heart benumbed because his tongue is toilfettered?

And that poor woman, yonder; from some noisome city den she has crept out, bearing upon her weary breast a poor, sickly babe, as dear to her, God knows, as if she had bread enough to feed it. She knows nothing of Newport, or Saratoga, but she knows a breath of fresh air can be bought for a penny, by crossing the ferry; and "it shall go hard," but little Dennis shall have that chance for his poor life. So she sits there carefully tending him, while the little creature's languid eye lights up with a gleam of pleasure (he can't tell why), and his transparent hand is laid caressingly on her bronzed features. Now the child has caught sight of a flower vender, who is poising one of those little fairy flower-baskets, found only in New York; he stretches forth his attenuated fingers to grasp it with childish eagerness. A tear starts to his mother's eye; it is so long since little Dennis has craved or cared for anything-but the "three shillings" to buy it! Dennis might as well ask her for the moon. See! he has it-the mother weeps her thanks: what's the use of money if it can't buy happiness?

THE drinking shops around the Crystal Palace, it is said, do not pay. The supply is greater than the demand. Or else the lofty influence of the exhibition counteracts their evil attractions.

JENNY LIND-If there be any truth in an assertion
of the Dresden Echo, the prophecy of Meyerbeer the
composer, to the effect that Madame Lind Goldschmidt
would again appear on the stage, is likely to be rea-
lized. The Echo says that Jenny is to take the
heroine's part in Goldschmidt's Töchterlein (Little
Daughter). Upwards of a year since, the great com-
poser alluded to observed to a friend, "The Lind is
sure to return to the stage, and from two opposite
love and revenge."
"How so?" demanded

causes,

the other. "Why," retorted the maestro, "if she
should be disappointed in her husband, and not find
the domestic happiness she anticipates, she will seek
for consolation and revenge in public applause; where-
as, if she be happy, and continue to love her husband,
who has a turn for composition, she will seek to satsfy
her vanity and affection by urging him to write an
opera, and she will appear in the first part, in order to
ensure its success, be it good or bad.""

He who has never lost himself in the delighted labyrinths to which old books lead him, he who has never been spell-bound by the arch magicians that, age after age, have offered themselves as his familiars-he who has never drank of the sweet waters that with an everliving freshness flow from the undefiled fountain of English literature, can scarcely imagine the pleaThere's a Wall street "money-changer," with the sure and the luxury which the gathering of knowledge, almighty dollar written all over him; it has knit his like the gathering of dewy and odorous roses for the brow and contracted his body, and as he sits there with little more than love after all, and, being a labor of bouquet, fills the mind. It is a labor that demands his arms folded, the dashing waves only suggest shares love, we have more faith in that impulse than in any in a projected bridge, in which he hopes to make a pro- pencraft we possess. fitable investment. Mammon has him, soul and body; if he were going out of the world, you could lure his spirit back with a ninepence.

of wine, and lightly wash over the backs and covers. MILDEW IN BOOKS.-Take a feather dipped in spirits To prevent mould, put a little in writing ink. Another, There's a group for Hogarth. Two roly-poly Irish To take mildew out of linen :-Mix powdered starch women, with figures strongly resembling bags of and soft soap with half the quantity of bay salt: mix meal with a string tied round the middle; each hold-it with vinegar, and lay it on both sides with a ing a baby. A little three-year-youngster, apparently painter's brush. Then let it lie in the open air till the joint property, is niched in between them; his tattered straw hat crushed down over his carroty locks, while Industry and honesty are the surest and safest way with both hands he grasps tightly by the "drumsticks" | both of rising and thriving.

spots are out.

Contributed to the New York Journal.

WINTER ALL THE YEAR.

A LAY OF THE LOVE LORN.
THO' I sing in merry measure,
All the joy of other souls,
Yet for me how little pleasure
All my life controls:

Tho' my songs gush mellow music,
And their echo joy imparts,
Still a sorrow seems abiding
In my heart of hearts.
Spring may come, delicious spring,
With its bright capricious weather;
Summer birds be on the wing,

And flowers bloom on hill and heather;
And the days be fair and pleasant,
And the nights be bright and clear-
Ah, I love the ever present,

Genial spring or autumn sere;
But within my sad heart reigneth
Winter all the year.

Summer too, all smiles and flowers,
Will succeed the transient spring,
And the earth be green and vernal,
Sweet with bloom and blossoming;
All be beautiful as Eden,

Waiting Eve but to appear,
To complete the land Elysian

On this sin-begotten sphere:
But, alas! for all thy beauties,

Sweet Summer, life is drear;
Still, heart is strong and Right is daty,
Tho' 'tis winter all the year!
Autumn russet, rich and golden,
Follows blandy next in train,
With her luscious fruits and acres

Broad with ripe and yellow grain;
Then old Winter, stern and hoary,
Rules in majesty austere,
While the fireside joke and story
Radiate a wholesome cheer;
But a colder, sterner winter
Glooms my soul in sorrow drear;
For no tale of love nor glory
Glads my winter all the year.
Tho' I sing in merry measure,
All the joy of other souls,
Yet for me how little pleasure
All my life controls:

Tho' my songs gush mellow music,
And their echo joy imparts,
Still a sorrow seems abiding
In my heart of hearts.

INGLESIDE, 1853.

THE CHILD AND THE MOURNERS.

BY CHARLES MACKAY.

A LITTLE child, beneath a tree

Sat and chanted cheerily

A little song, a pleasant song,
Which was-she sang it all day long-
"When the wind blows the blossoms fall;
But a good God reigns above all."
There passed a lady by the way.
Moaning in the face of day:

There were tears upon her cheek,
Grief in her heart too great to speak;
Her husband died but yester-morn,
And left her in the world forlorn.

She stopped and listened to the child
That looked to heaven, and singing, smiled;
And saw not for her own despair,
Another lady, young and fair,
Who, also passing, stopped to hear
The infant's anthem ringing clear.
For she but few sad days before
Had lost the little babe she bore;
And grief was heavy at her soul
As that sweet memory o'er her stole,
And showed how bright had been the Past,
The Present drear and overcast.
And as they stood beneath the tree
Listening, soothed and placidly,
A youth came by, whose sunken eyes
Spake of a load of miseries;
And he, arrested like the twain,
Stopped to listen to the strain.
Death had bowed the youthful head
Of his bride beloved, his bride unwed!
Her marriage robes were fitted on,
Her fair young face with blushes shone,
When the destroyer smote her low,
And changed the lover's bliss to woo.
And these three listened to the song,
Silver-toned, and sweet, and strong,
Which that child, the livelong day,
Chanted to itself in play;

"When the wind blows the blossoms fall;
But a good God reigns over all."
The widow's lips impulsive moved;
The mother's grief, tho' unreproved,
Softened, as her trembling tongue
Repeated what the infant sung;
And the sad lover, with a start,
Conned it over to his heart.

And though the child-if child it were,
And not a seraph sitting there-
Was seen no more, the sorrowing three
Went on their way resignedly,
The song still ringing in their ears-
Was it music of the spheres?

Who shall tell? They did not know.
But in the midst of deepest woo
The strain recurred when sorrow grew,
To warn them, and console them too:
"When the wind blows the blossoms fall
But a good God reigns over all "

N. B.

THE RUSSIAN EMPIRE.

THE presence of the French and English fleets in the Turkish waters, with the diplomatic dispute which has resulted in their combined operations, have necessarily attracted the attention of the world to that great

to learn the art of ship-building; and seven years later Anecdote of Circumstantial Evidence. Sea by an attack on Persia. he gained possession of the provinces on the Caspian THE following narrative, while it strikingly exhibits larly fortunate, was soon to close. But this career, so singu- the liable and uncertain nature of circumstantial eviThe death of a Russian monarch is usually attributed to any other dence, affords also a convincing proof of the indispenpower whose moderate and conciliatory measures, in the passed away from the scene of his great achievements highest order, in all criminal cases relating to injuries

midst of the revolutionary storm which recently swept over Europe, has hitherto rendered her a splendid example to neighboring countries. We believe we shall best satisfy the curiosity of the public, which is now on the qui vive, by presenting them with an account as concise as possible, of the growth, progress, and extent of the Russian power; assuming, therefore, that

our readers are conversant with the nature and origin of the quarrel as it at present stands, and are well

with public interest.

cause than the course of nature. Peter the Great

at the age of fifty-two, and history is silent as to the
manner of his death. His bodily powers were appa-
rently undecayed, and his mental energies as strong as
ever. The day of his death, still recorded in the Rus-
sian annals with the interest due to his career, was the
28th of January, 1725. In thirty-six years he had
raised his country from obscurity to a rank with the
oldest powers of Europe.

We omit the complicated successions of monarchs, and pass on to the remarkable reign of Katherine the princess of Anhalt.

sable necessity of procuring medical testimony of the

of the person. The narrator, Mr. Perfect, a surgeon the Lancet, (Mr. Wakley) in January 1839:

at Hammersmith, sent the statement to the editor of

"It is now thirty years ago, that, accidentally passing the Packhorse, Turnham-green, my attention was attracted by a mob of persons of the lowest order, assembled around the door of that inn, who were very loud in their execrations against some person who was versed in all that information which is supplied by the Germany was in consequence of the treaty entered into ation of which, I was told that his bones were found The first appearance made by a Russian army in suspected of having murdered his brother; in corroborjournals of the day, we shall present them with what- with Maria Theresa; and their bravery, during the near the premises where he formerly resided, upon information can be gathered on a subject so replete Seven Years' War, established on a permanent founda-view of which a jury was then sitting, after an Whether in regard of history, of extent, of population the military reputation of the country. adjournment from the day preceding. I found that two surgeons had been subpoenaed to inspect the tion, or of power, Russia is beyond all question the remains, and I had no doubt but that every informamost extraordinary country in the world. Its increase tion as to their character had been obtained; curiosity of territory has never suffered the least casualty of alone, therefore, induced me to make my way into the fortune. Experience has taught us its complete secu- the opening years of Katherine's reign afforded pro- double jury, were sitting for the second day, and were Young, handsome, and gifted beyond other women, room, where I found that the coroner, and, I believe, a rity against the retaliation of a European war, and we mise of a splendid future. Around her throne was see it exhibit the curious anomaly of a government at collected the élite of Germany-its soldiers and philo- / engaged in an investigation which tended to show that once popular and despotic; displaying a boundless sophers, with the orators and statesmen of England. a farmer and market-gardener at Sutton-court Farm, submission on the part of the people to an authority Asiastic pomp, united with the brilliancy of modern had, a few years before, a brother living with him, just as boundless on the part of the sovereign. A civilization, rendered her court the most splendid in who was engaged on the farm, but whose conduct was species of obedience in which the homage paid to Europe. But this triumphant reign was soon stained dissolute and irregular to a degree that often provoked a monarch seems mingled with the reverence due to a by a terrible crime. A few years after the accession the anger of his elder brother, and sometimes begat of Katherine the dismemberment of Poland took place strife and violence between them; that the temper of Russia first assumed a prominent position in Euro--an act which history has stigmatized with the cha- the elder brother was as little under control as the pean history about the middle of the ninth century. racter it deserves. After the sudden death of Kathe- conduct of the younger; and, in fine, that they lived The traders of Novgorod solicited the assistance of rine, which occurred in 1796, her son Paul ascended very uncomfortably together. a famous Baltic pirate, one Ruric, to save them from the throne. He first made war upon the French Rethe predatory incursions of certain of their rapacious public, and then formed a league to destroy the marineighbors. But the good people of Novgorod, in time superiority of England. But in the midst of his seeking to escape Scylla, fell into Carybdis. The pi- machinations and preparations for war, a band of conratical chieftain came; he did his work well, but when spirators burst into his chamber at midnight, and a he had finished, it was not found so easy to get rid of senseless piece of clay was all that remained on the him-the country he came to save, he remained to following morning of him who had retired to rest as conquer. The realm he had saved from the spolia- the master of fifty millions of men. tion, he resolved to protect. He therefore seized upon it, and founding a kingdom, which was transher first connexion with the intelligence and civilizamitted to his descendants, he established for Russia tion of Europe.

Divinity.

The dynasty thus founded by an act of usurpation, lasted for upward of seven hundred and thirty-six years, numbering fifty-six sovereigns,-nor did it terminate until the death without children of the Czar

Feodor, which took place in the sixteenth century.
Another dynasty succeeded in the person of Ro-
manoff, who was sprung from the line of the old Bal-
tic chieftain by the female side. He was the grand-
father of Peter the Great, the most distinguished mo-
narch who ever wore the imperial purple. His reign
affords a memorable example of the splendid results
which can be accomplished by the vigorous will of a
Peter was the creator of the Russian
gifted man.
Empire: like the boast of Augustus, the city he found
of brick he left of marble. The country, which before
the accession of the great Czar resembled one vast
swamp, he fertilized with laws, energy, and knowledge,
transforming a region of Asiatic squalor and misery
into the magnificence of a stately empire.

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One winter night, when the ground was covered with snow, the younger brother absconded from the house, (for they both lived together), by letting himself down from his chamber window; and when he was missed the ensuing morning, his footsteps were clearly tracked in the snow to a considerable distance, nor were there any other footsteps but his own: time passed on, and after a lapse of some few years no tidings were heard of his retreat, nor perhaps have

there ever been since. Some alterations in the

had then left the farm), a skeleton was dug up, and grounds surrounding the house having been undertaken by a subsequent tenant (for the elder brother the circumstance appeared so conclusive that one

ine the bones, which I found were contained in a

The accession of Alexander was marked by enthusiastic acclamation. His first act was peace with EngPoland two years afterwards the fatal conflict at land-his next, war with France. The invasion of Eylau, and the disaster at Friedland, resulted in the peace of Tilsit. Alexander then joined the continental system of Napoleon; but it was found so ruin-brother had murdered the other, that the popular clamor was raised to the utmost, and a jury impanous to Russian commerce as to be intolerable. A rupture took place, and Napoleon invaded Russia at the nelled to investigate the case. “After listening attentively to these details, I venhead of an army of five hundred thousand men. The result of this memorable expedition is too well known tured to request of the coroner to be allowed to examto need any comment. The invading army was utterly hamper-basket at the further end of the room, and I annihilated; and the Battle of Waterloo, which was fought in the succeeding year, completed the ruin of felt much flattered by his immediate compliance, for he Napoleon, and left Russia once more to the develop- place them upon the table; and having myself disdesired the parish beadle, who was in attendance, to ment of her gigantic dominions. Alexander died in 1825, at the age of forty-eight, and leaving no sons, posed them in their natural order, I found that they was succeeded by his brother Nicholas, the present obliteration of the sutures of the skull, and the wornrepresented a person of short stature, and from the monarch. There cannot be a doubt that the policy of the Russian government, ever since the days of Con- down state of the teeth, must have belonged to an stantine, has been the augmentation of territory-and aged person. But what was my surprise when I that policy has seldom been unsuccessful. The object reconstructed the bones of the skeleton, and found the of former Russian cabinets has been the possession of lower bones of the trunk to be those of a female. I Turkey and the command of the Mediterranean. The immediately communicated the fact to the jury, and It was about this period that Sweden was the great old desire of territory which partitioned Poland, it is requested that the two medical men who had before military power of Europe. The renown of Gustavus to be apprehended, still survives; but whether it will given their opinions might be sent for, one of whom Adolphus had fired the people with a martial enthu- at present be carried into action is a different matter. attended, and without a moment's hesitation corrobosiasm, which knew no bounds; and under Charles Asia Minor and Syria present a richer as well as a XII., the Swedish armies never marched but to vic-more tempting prey. Turkey is the ostensible object. tory. Poland and Denmark had been severally the the- It is difficult, no doubt, to reconcile the line of action atres of the monarch's military exploits, and the vic- now adopted, either with the conduct of the Czar upon tims of his ambition. Russia he had despised; but former occasions, or with the principles of which he her coalition with the northern powers appearing has uniformily proclaimed himself the champion. The likely to render her a formidable antagonist, he fell scrupulous defender of the treaties, upon the basis of upon her armies, and defeated them, with great which rests the peace of modern Europe, now appears slaughter, on the memorable field of Narva. But the in the character of their violator; and the policy of a Czar, though beaten, was not vanquished. The great long and prosperous reign is reversed in a moment. powers of his mind were equal to the great occasion. What the end will be it is impossible to foretell. The He applied all his energies to military affairs, and, crisis is now rapidly approaching, and the world looks after six years of protracted but unequal contest, he on with astonished eyes to know what the governor of defeated his formidable antagonist at the battle of Pul- an empire, which extends from the Baltic to the Sea of towa. The Swedish army was annihilated, Charles Kamtschatka, and contains seven millions of square sought an asylum in Turkey, and the victorious mo- miles, with upwards of sixty millions of human souls, narch henceforth assumed the title of "Emperor and could possibly do with more territory, even if he had Autocrat of all the Russias." In 1716 he paid a se- acquired it. cond visit to Europe, whither he had been once before

rated

my report.

"I need not add that the proceedings were instantly at an end, and an innocent man received the amende in which the coroner heartily joined. It has since honorable, in the shape of an apology, from all present, been proved beyond all doubt, that the spot where the bones were found was formerly the site of a large gravel-pit, in which hordes of gipsies not only assembled, but occasionally buried their dead, and perhaps more skeletons are yet to be found in that vicinity."

"the

At the distance of thirty years, the narrator of this occurrence may well look back upon it with pleasure, and congratulate himself upon having been happy instrument in the hands of Providence of rescuing a worthy and innocent man from the obloquy, and perhaps the fate, of a murderer."

Bad words are soon learned by converse with those who use them, but not so soon unlearned.

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