leniency; and certainly, judged by his customary Star-Chamber, where, being omnipotent with clerks dispersed in ministering to his follies and depravity. mode of proceeding in such cases, he had shown and counsel, he was sure of success-the complaints Timorous he was by nature, as we have said, but cruel some little indulgence. In this line of conduct he being so warily contrived, the examinations so adroitly and unrelenting in proportion to his cowardice; and had been mainly influenced by his partner, who, not framed, and the interrogatories so numerous and per- where an injury could be securely inflicted, or a prosbeing insensible to the attractions of the fair hostess, plexing, that the defendant, or delinquent, as he was trate foe struck with impunity, he never hesitated for hoped to win her favor by a show of consideration. indifferently styled, was certain to be baffled and de-a moment. Sir Giles himself was scarcely so maligBut though Madame Bonaventure was willing enough feated. "The sentences of this court," it has been nant and implacable. for her own purposes to encourage Sir Francis said by one intimately acquainted with its practice, A strong contrast to this dastardly debauchee was Mitchell's attentions (she detested him in her secret and very favorably inclined to it, "strike to the root of offered by the bolder villain. Sir Giles Mompesson heart), she by no means relied upon him for security. men's reputations, and many times, of their estates;" was a very handsome man, with a striking physiognoA more powerful friend was held in reserve, whom and again it was a rule with it that the prosecutor my, but dark and sinister in expression. His eyes she meant to produce at the last moment; and, conse- "was ever intended to be favored." Knowing this, as were black, singularly piercing, and flashed with the quently, she was not so ill at ease as she otherwise well as the high legal authority from whom we have fiercest fire when kindled by passion. A finely-formed would have been, though by no means free from mis- quoted, Sir Giles ever placed himself in the favored aquiline nose gave a hawk-like character to his face; givings. position, and, with the aid of this iniquitous tribunal, his hair was coal-black (though he was no longer blasted many a fair reputation, and consigned many a young), and hung in long ringlets over his neck and victim of its injustice to the Fleet, there to rot till he shoulders. He wore the handsomely cut beard and paid him the utmost of his demands, or paid the debt moustache subsequently depicted in the portraits of of nature. Vandyke, which suited the stern gravity of his countenance. Rich, though sober in his attire, he always affected a dark color, being generally habited in a doublet of black quilted silk, Venetian hose, and a murrey-colored velvet mantle. His conical hat was ornamented with a single black ostrich feather; and he carried a long rapier by his side, in the use of which he was singularly skilful; being one of Vincentio Saviolo's best pupils. Sir Giles was a little above the middle height, with a well-proportioned athletic figure; and his strength and address were such, that there seemed good reason for his boast when he declared, as he often did, “that he feared no man living, in fair fight, no, nor any two men."

Sir Giles Mompesson was a terrible enemy, and seldom thwarted in his purpose. That she knew. But no man was more keenly alive to his own interest than he; and she persuaded herself he would find it to his advantage not to molest her; in which case she was safe. Of Sir Francis Mitchell she had less apprehension; for, though equally mischievous and malevolent with his partner, he was far feebler of purpose, and for the most part governed by him. Besides, she felt she had the amorous knight in her toils, and could easily manage him if he were alone.

Sir Giles had none of the weaknesses of his partner. Temperate in his living, he had never been known to commit an excess at table; nor were the blandishments or lures of the fair sex ever successfully spread for him. If his arm was of iron, his heart seemed of adamant, utterly impenetrable by any gentle emotion. It was affirmed, and believed that he had never shed a tear. His sole passion seemed to be the accumulation of wealth, unattended by the desire to spend it. He bestowed no gifts. He had no family, no kinsman, whom he cared to acknowledge. He stood alonea hard, grasping man; a bond-slave to Mammon.

In an age less corrupt and venal than that under consideration, such a career could not long have continued without check. But in the time of James the First, from the readiness of the monarch himself, and the rapacity of his minions and courtiers and their satellites-each striving to enrich himself, no matter how a thousand abuses, both of right and justice, So the case stood with respect to our pretty hostess; were tolerated or connived at, crime stalking abroad but before proceeding further, it may be well to give a unpunished. The Star-Chamber itself served the king more complete description of the two birds of prey by as, in less degree, it served Sir Giles Mompesson, whom she was threatened with beak and talon. and others of the same stamp, as a means of increasThe master spirit of the twain was undoubtedly Siring his revenue; half the fines mulcted from those Giles Mompesson. Quick in conception of villainy, who incurred its censure or its punishments being he was equally daring in execution. How he had awarded to the crown. Thus, nice inquiries were risen to his present bad eminence no one precisely rarely made, unless a public example was needed, knew, because, with the craft and subtlety that distin- when the wrong-doer was compelled to disgorge his guished him, he had laid his schemes so deeply, and plunder. But this was never done till the pear was covered his proceedings with so thick a veil, that they fully ripe. Sir Giles, however, had no apprehensions had been rarely detected. Report, however, spoke of of any such result in his case. Like a sly fox, or him as a usurer of the vilest kind, who wrung exorbi- rather like a crafty wolf, he was too confident in his tant interest from needy borrowers-who advanced own cunning and resources to fear being caught in money to expectant heirs, with the intention of plun- such a trap. dering them of their inheritance-and who resorted to every trick and malpractice permitted by the law to benefit himself at his neighbor's expense. These were bad enough, but even graver accusations were made against him. It was hinted that he had obtained fraudulent possession of deeds and family papers, which had enabled him to wrest estates from their rightful owners; and some did not scruple to add to these charges that he had forged documents to carry out his nefarious designs. Be this as it was, from comparative poverty he speedily rose to wealth; and as his means increased, so his avaricious schemes were multi-and the other the fittest to carry it out. Sir Francis plied and extended. His earlier days were passed in complete obscurity, none but the neediest spendthrift or the most desperate gambler knowing where he dwelt, and every one who found him out in his wretched abode near the Marshalsea had reason to regret his visit. Now he was well enough known by many a courtly prodigal, and his large mansion near Fleet Bridge (it was said of him that he always chose If this were the case with persons who had no imthe neighborhood of a prison for his dwelling) was remediate ground of apprehension from him, how much sorted to by the town gallants whose necessities or exterror his sombre figure must have inspired, when travagance compelled them to obtain supplies at exorpresented, as it was to Madame Bonaventure, with bitant interest. Lavish in his expenditure on occa- And they were as different in personal appearance, the aspect of a merciless creditor, armed with full sions, Sir Giles was habitually so greedy and penuri- as in mental qualities and disposition. Mompesson power to enforce his claims, and resolved not to abate ous, that he begrudged every tester he expended. He was the dashing eagle; Mitchell the sorry kite. Sira jot of them, will be revealed to the reader in our wished to keep up a show of hospitality without cost, Francis was weakly, emaciated in frame; much given next chapter. and secretly pleased himself by thinking that he made to sensual indulgence; and his body conformed to his his guests pay for his entertainments, and even for his timorous organization. His shrunken shanks scarcely The Palmer Journal tells a story of a young clergyestablishment. His servants complained of being half-sufficed to support him; his back was bent; his eyes man "in a neighboring town," who, after having comstarved, though he was constantly at war with them blear; his head bald; and his chin which was con-menced preaching on a warm Sunday, lost his sermon for their wastefulness and riot. He made, however, a great display of attendants, inasmuch as he had a whole retinue of myrmidons at his beck and call; and these, as before observed, were well paid. They were the crows that followed the vultures, and picked the bones of the spoil when their ravening masters had been fully glutted.

In the court of Star-Chamber, as already remarked, Sir Giles Mompesson found an instrument in every way fitted to his purposes; and he worked it with terrible effect, as will be shown hereafter. With him it was at once a weapon to destroy and a shield to protect. This court claimed "a superlative power not only to take causes from other courts and punish them there, but also to punish offences secondarily, when other courts have punished them." Taking advantage of this privilege, when a suit was commenced against him elsewhere, Sir Giles contrived to remove it to the

'His title was purchased, and he reaped his reward in the consequence it gave him. Sir Francis Mitchell acted likewise; and it was about this time that the connection between the worthy pair commenced. Hitherto they had been in opposition, and though very different in temperament and in modes of proceeding, they had one aim in common; and recognizing great merit in each other, coupled with a power of mutual assistance, they agreed to act in concert. Sir Francis was as cautious and timid as Sir Giles was daring and inflexible; the one being the best contriver of a scheme, trembled at his own devices and their possible consequences: Sir Giles adopted his schemes, if promising, and laughed at the difficulties and dangers that beset them. The one was the hoad; the other the arm. Not that Sir Giles lacked the ability to weave as subtle a web of deceit as his partner; but each took his line. It saved time. The plan of licensing and inspecting taverns and hotels had originated with Sir Francis, and very profitable it proved. But Sir Giles carried it out much further than his partner had proposed, or thought prudent.

When it pleased him, Sir Giles Mompesson could play the courtier, and fawn and gloze like the rest. A consummate hypocrite, he easily assumed any part he might be called upon to enact; but the tone natural to him was one of insolent domination and bitter raillery. He sneered at all things human and divine; and there was mockery in his laughter, as well as venom in his jests. His manner, however, was not without a certain cold and grave dignity; and he clothed himself, like his purposes, in inscrutable reserve, on occasions requiring it. So ominous was his presence, that many persons got out of the way, fearing to come in contact with him, or give him offence; and the broad walk at Paul's was sometimes cleared as he took his way along it followed by his band of tipstaves.

tinually wagging, clothed with a scanty yellow beard, rather suddenly and unexpectedly. A gust of wind
shaped like a stiletto, while his sandy moustachios swept through the aisles of the church, took the ser-
were curled upward. He was dressed in the extremity mon from the desk, and whirled it out of the window.
of the fashion, and affected the air of a young court Two deacons gave chase, and after a half hour's pur-
gallant. His doublet, hose, and mantle were ever of suit, returned with the last leaf only of the wandering
the gayest and most fanciful hues, and of the richest document, the remainder having escaped from them
stuffs; he wore a diamond brooch in his beaver, and entirely.
sashes tied like garters, round his thin legs, which without notes," had seated himself to await the return
The clergyman, not wishing to " preach
were utterly destitute of calf. Preposterously large of his sermon, and upon learning that it was lost to
roses covered his shoes; his ruff was a "treble-quad- him for ever, rose, and gave out the hymn commencing
ruple-dedalion;" his gloves richly embroidered; a large with-
crimson satin purse hung from his girdle; and he was
scented with powders and pulvilios. This withered
coxcomb affected the mincing gait of a young man; which the choir sang with great effect, after which the
and though rather an object of derision than admira- services were closed with the benediction.
tion with the fair sex, persuaded himself they were all
captivated by him. The vast sums he so unjustly ac-
quired did not long remain in his possession, but were

"The winds may sweep our hopes away,
And disappointment be our doom,"

November and December are called by the Boston Post the embers of the dying year.

INTRODUCTORY-TO THE READER.

live the sweet remembrance thereof.

A New Park.

Reflections on a Country Home.

pled lines like a beauty's cheek; how tearful grows figurements that are so disgraceful upon the land THE first number of the "NEW YORK JOURNAL" is the eye and choked the utterance as we pause in de- approach to our city would disappear; cottages and now submitted to the public, who will be enabled to lightful suspense over this choicest of Pomona's offer-villas would spring up on all sides, and, more particuform, from its contents, a fair appreciation of its tone ings; how unutterably delicious is it when at last the larly gather round the Park. And, ere long, we and style. The plan of the JOURNAL embodies features heaping spoonful melts away upon our palate. But, should see all the avenues of approach lined with emsomewhat distinctive from its American cotemporaries, reader, didst ever try the berries buried in an ice-an bowered mansions, and Manhattan become one of the odd companionship, as if a rose should nestle in a most beautiful and distinguished places upon the globe and, in some particulars, it will open a new era in our national periodical literature. Its principal character-snow ball. But try them, and for ever in thy heart the pride of the city, the honor of the nation! istic is a hitherto unattempted cheapness-not cheapness consisting merely in lowness of price, but lowness of price accompanied with great beauty in its mechanical department, and a superior excellence of contents. THE plan for an up-town Park is again revived, and For this reason, it can only be successful by attaining our citizens are busily discussing the relative merits of a very wide and extensive circulation; but this is the Jones' Woods, and the grand central Park which has very thing the Proprietors believe they can accomplish. been proposed. We believe that the Committee apMonster circulations are now the order of the day. pointed by the Common Council have reported favorably The people are now the patrons of literature, and noth- to the latter plan. We consider the subject an importing will obtain their approbation and support but that ant one, and intimately involved in the welfare and which is truly excellent and decidedly cheap. And it progress of our city, both in a moral and politic sense. will be observed that, whenever a large circulation and The necessity of a Park and the benefits it would concheapness are the features of a newspaper or a periodi- fer, have been generally admitted-excepted to, indeed, cal, it is greatly superior. The publisher who caters only by a few rigid utilitarians. But there is a wide for the mass of the people must cater liberally. He difference in the estimation of the respective advantamust always secure novelty and freshness, in order to ges offered by the two situations,-whether the emretain his hold upon his readers. He must be bowered walks, the leafy nooks, and the grand old trees sive and vigorous, for to drone is to bring about his that mark the river site are not weightier in the scale, own destruction. Thus it is a singular anomaly in than the larger, but bleak and uncultivated, area of the literature, that the lowest prices often afford the rich-central grounds. Jones' Woods are scarcely two hun

est return.

progres

The plan of the Proprietors, then, being to combine superiority with cheapness, to depend for profit upon extent of circulation, and to obtain this circulation by liberality of outlay, they appear before the public with a certain degree of confidence. Coming into the field fully armed and equipped to do determined battle, they believe that by resolute energy, singleness of purpose, backed by ample capital, and fortunate facilities, they will be enabled to accomplish all that they have under

taken.

THERE is one earnest longing we have deeply impressed into our heart of hearts, and which, at times at this season, for instance, grows upon us strongly. It stirs us as through the open window of our domicil we look into the shaded walks of St. John's, and moves us into eloquence as we gaze upon a neighboring house where a woodbine has clambered up, overspreading the whole gable end, while from the high peak, finding nothing loftier for its ambitious growth to fasten upon, it drops in abundant festoons. But the passion, for such it is, is most earnest, when in the early morn we first throw open our shutters to admit the morning air. The balminess of the air, the rich fragrance from the foliage in the old Park; and then the long delicate shadows, as the newly arisen sun flings them adown the street, and the clear blue of the sky, unsmoked as yet, with the soft stillness pervading the scene not yet broken by the whirl and clatter of life— dred acres in extent, but the boundaries of the rival these all speak eloquently to the long secreted desire. Park will include some six or seven hundred acres. The desire is no wonder, reader, but a very simple The first is a dense wood, skirting the East river shore, thing. It is a day-dream of a country home-a tha latter a wide area in the centre of the isle, embrac-sweetly shaded cottage somewhere where we might ing much diversity of scenery, most of it rude and raw, be monarch of all we surveyed! A cottage with vines but with a few picturesque spots. It will include the that clamber over the windows and peer into them, reservoir, certainly a most distinguished object. But and a fine old lawn, and, above all, a garden! There's many years would have to elapse ere this Park could where our affections most do cling. A something to become to us all that which we so much desire, and live for, to glory in, an object for which we may off for which the great part of the people pants so car-coat and work for! How delightful to watch the nestly. Many years must pass, and our already thin-unfolding flower, to train the squash vine in the way ning locks grow gray indeed, ere we could stand be- it should go, to hang with rapture over the pumpkin neath its shaded avenues or wander amid its leafy as it turns up "its fair round belly to the sun," to groves. Our imagination paints the picture as it shall prop up the youthful peach limbs with crutches-thus exist, and we behold the scene in all its sylvan beauty. reversing the order of things-to foster our growth of We see the grand avenues canopied by intertwining all good fruits, and partake of the dish sweetened by boughs, and the winding walks, that plunge now into our perspiring toil! To be master of all these things, the silent shadows of the groves, anon skirt the sunny or rather parent of them all, for they would seem as glade, now wander through the wild ravine, and now our offspring! No flower was ever so fragrant as one clamber the hill sides. We see the opening vistas, the from the vine tended by ourselves; no grape ever so romantic retreats, the sunny slopes, the dark statues luscious as one from the growth our own hands have with their silent, solemn eloquence! We tread upon nurtured. And how one might in such a pursuit comthe smooth turf, and watch the beautiful and inimit-bine the study of Botany and Chemistry, thus developable play of light and shade among the tree-tops.ing our scientific knowledge, and unfolding the grand And more beautiful than all these, glad voices upon the mysteries which govern and control the growth of veair, the music of merry hearts-hearts made so by that getation. What more lofty intellectual pursuit! A which is around them! The voices of children, too! garden is an academy, which should have its degrees. fairies to the scene, woodland sprites, good genii, in It is a great moral and philosophical school. In one whose magic circles no impure, unhallowed thing dares hour's early labor over the pea-bed we gain a knowWe may not live to enjoy all this; but are ledge of the plant, an appetite for breakfast, and a there not generations to follow us, links but one re-growth of hardy muscle beneath our shirt sleeves— move from us, who will bind us to the future as we three good things not so easily won in any other way. bind them to the past? And if our setting sun of life Gardens have been typical of purity and happiness ever can linger upon such a scene, will not our children's since the garden of Eden first burst upon the delighted children crown us to the last with honors for the great gaze of Adam, and, from the day when the erring but boon we had bestowed upon them? But there is a devoted pair turned sorrowfully from the gates that practical good that would arise, which should be re- were closed upon them for ever, mankind everywhere membered, and which is a good argument for the Cen-have sought to create Edens of their own. To rest Strawberries and ices surround us with their en- tral Park. Let this Park be once laid out, and the set-beneath the fig-tree of our own planting has been alike chanting delights-the glorious ministers to summer tlement and culture of the island would receive a great the ambition of the Christian, the Mahomedan, the pleasures. How intoxicating and blissful it is to hang impetus. People, instead of going to Westchester, Jew. May the time come when around every man's over the rounded dish of ruby berries, half buried be- Long Island, Jersey, would halt upon Manhattan, and door fruitful vines and trees shall render up their harneath a snowy crest of cream, the red flowing into the hasten to occupy the entire island in order to enjoy the vest, and may Pomona come to be the reigning godwhite, and the white streaked with long delicate dap-advantages of the Park. The shanties and other dis-dess of the age!

We have made arrangements by which we shall be always enabled to supply our readers with serial romances from distinguished authors. The "Star-Chamber will prove to be a splendid historical romance. Upon its completion it will be followed by others of equal interest and excellence, and always graphically illustrated. Other illustrated Tales will be found in each number, and also illustrated historical Sketches, as well as Views of Places and Things. We have ample facilities for always providing the best literature in every branch, and, as time progresses, each of the departments of the JOURNAL shall be improved

Distinguished artists will be constantly employed in illustrating various subjects for its pages. Instructive and entertaining papers on the Arts or Sciences, on the various branches of industry, written by persons of eminence, especially for our pages, will be provided. Whatever can interest and please shall be secured, and every pains will be taken to make the JOURNAL So eminently attractive and so unapproachable in excellence and cheapness, that no household can hesitate in receiving so large and so valuable a return for the small outlay of the yearly subscription price. It would be difficult to devise any means whereby so small an amount could be so profitably expended.

to come.

OUR FIRST NUMBER.

WE have been pleased and gratified at the very favorable manner with which our first number was received. Its success was beyond our hopes, and took us by surprise. The impression seemed universal that for cheapness, mechanical beauty, and richness of contents, nothing equal to it had ever appeared. The public, indeed, seized upon it with avidity, and the utmost capacity of our presses was unable for the first few days to supply the demand. Feeling ourselves more secure in the enterprise, we shall go on, sparing no expense nor labor to make the "JOURNAL" unequalled in every department.

Father Gavazzi.

A NOBLE ENTERPRISE. THE initiatory steps have been taken within a few days, in a new and grand educational enterprise, that excites our warmest commendation and pleasure. Several of our most distinguished merchants, recently assembled in the private rooms of Messrs. Grinnell, Minturn, & Co., having in view the establishment of a MUSEUM on a scale of appropriate magnitude; an institution commensurate to the wants and wealth of a great nation, and one in no wise inferior in plan and purpose to the most celebrated institutions of a similar character throughout the world. A great incentive to this step, was the recent appearance amongst us of a most rare and valuable collection of Egyptian antiquities, a collection inferior to none in the world excepting that of the British Museum. This collection, in the possession of Dr. Abbot, a most enthusiastic antiquary, who has been twenty years pursuing his researches through Egypt, if not finding a purchaser in this country must soon be reshipped to Europe. The object of the meeting of these gentlemen, at the present time, therefore, was the securing of these, as well as Catlin's valuable Indian Antiquities, as the first step in the enterprise.

THE EVENT OF THE SEASON. ON the fifteenth of July the crystal gates of the Great Palace will be thrown open, and the wonders gathered from many regions be spread to the public gaze. We have great hopes of this coming exhibition. The structure, it is true, is not so large as the London one, but it is superior in point of architectural beauty, and if the space it affords be but judiciously employed, and nothing admitted but articles of decided interest and value, and such as are fair representatives of the world's industry, the exhibition will far exceed any thing ever witnessed in this country, and be well worthy the attention of the enlightened. A great many articles of rare interest have arrived from Europe, some of which the reader will find enumerated in another column. The classification and arrangement FATHER GAVAZZı, since his fearful reception at Monhave been placed under the superintendance of distin-treal, has resumed his lectures in this city. To those guished gentlemen, and every effort seems to be made to make the exhibition what it should be. The opening will be celebrated with appropriate ceremonies, and, we understand, the President, the Cabinet, and many distinguished gentlemen will be present. But contrasted with the many circumstances of which we are proud, are the disgraceful associates with which the building is surrounded. What a burning shame it is that an edifice consecrated to the useful, the beautiful, and the ennobling, should be surrounded by Bacchanalian "temples," erected in the cause of dissipation! It is not well to be over delicate or too fastidious in this world of ours. Offensive things must be met and borne with, but it must be a coarse mind indeed that can look upon the surroundings of Reservoir Square without indignation and shame. The Palace stage. We can imagine the wonderful power such a in its successful development it will become a crown

seems to be set in a confederation of groggeries. They hug it close and thick on all sides, crowding around its portals, that their boisterous orgies may be wafted through its aisles, and that the incense which burns night and day upon their altars may mingle with its atmosphere. Why these things should have been permitted, and why those in authority did not keep us from this shame, we cannot tell. The mischief is done, and now must be borne with; but not borne with without solemn and earnest protestations against it.

Fashionable Economy. BLOODS among the beaux, like bloods among horses, are now known by the thinness of their legs. Indeed a gentleman in the height of the present fashion is amazingly ridiculous, and if he were preserved on canvass, future ages would pronounce it a caricature. The principal aim set up by these gentlemen, and so pertinaciously followed, is to attain as diminutive and insignificant an appearance as possible. To this end pantaloons of the least possible circumference, and of stunted altitude, coat of short waist and narrow shoulders, and the whole figure overtopped by a widespreading and overwhelming chapeau, completes the ensemble of a Broadway gent, groups of whom can

of our readers who have not heard him, a few particu-
lars as to his manner and appearance may be of inte-
rest. His style of oratory is quite unlike anything we
ever before witnessed. He has an imposing figure,
and always appears on an open platform, dressed in
the garb of his order, which adds much to the pic-
turesque of his appearance. Up and down this plat-
form he moves, throwing himself continually into the
most extraordinary and yet highly graceful attitudes;
at one moment talking familiarly and playfully, in the
next, bursting out with the most passionate intensity,
raving up and down the platform, and ending in some
terrific explosion, that is often sublime and yet some-
times a little ridiculous. His intensity of passionate
expression we have never seen excelled even on the

Although of imposing figure, Gavazzi has not a prepossessing face. His forehead is low, his cheeks large and flabby, and he has altogether a decidedly animal look. One cannot help suspecting that he is a good

The plan proposed is of a most liberal and gigantic scale. It is no less than the erection of a grand Museum, in which shall be gathered all that is rare in art or science, attainable by the researches and enterprise

of man.

An imposing and extensive edifice is to be erected, which will embrace a department for every branch of instruction. The plan and purpose of the institution is one of vital interest to the public, and

style of oratory must exercise over a rude and impres-ing glory to our city.
sible crowd; and even understand how, by this same
It is with the most lively gratification that we see
passionate style, the Crusaders in the olden time ex-
our merchant princes identifying themselves thus with
ercised their wonderful sway over their hearers. Ga- the progress of learning and intelligence, and in the
vazzi is not an orator-he is an actor. All his atti- growth of art amongst us. Let once the exhaustless
tudes are studied like an actor, he has marked places wealth ever pouring into the lap of Commerce be di-
for applause, and his whole aim seems to be for dra-rected into such channels, and the higher and more enno-
matic effect.
bling arts will flourish with a new and hardy growth.
In Italy, in its glorious age, when it was the marvel
and wonder of the world; when its arts, its music,
its poetry were the delight, the rapture of all nations,
its lofty excellence was only attained because com-
merce bore it up. Merchants became the patrons, the
lovers of art, and straightway it flourished with a rich
and luxuriant growth. When to conceive and invent
new forms of grace, new sounds of harmony, and
fresh combinations of color was to attain brilliant and
lofty position with vast wealth, the genius of men bent
them to the task, and the soul of the writer glowed on
the canvass and in the marble. And to render our age
and our nation glorious as Italy in her bright days,
Commerce has but to unfold her golden stores. Let
her be the munificent patron of learning and of art,
and we shall behold our people exalted in taste and
intelligence in a way no other means could effect. We

deal of a charlatan.

There is one thing in connection with his lectures that we cannot help alluding to. We must commend our Roman Catholic citizens fo. he forbearance they have manifested under attacks of the most insolent and exasperating kind. Would Protestants manifest a similar forbearance and moderation if some Romanist should go about attacking them in a similar violent voted fondness for freedom of speech would in such a We hope so, but we are afraid that our decase be subjected to a severe test.

manner?

Louis

Among the articles that have arrived for exhibition ever be seen moving about, resembling so many in the Crystal Palace, are several specimens of the hail the dawn of such an era. inverted pyramids. But the most singular thing is to observe the great cultivation given to their legs. One meets now in a promenade through Broadway with the most extraordinary legs, legs of the most eccentric pattern, legs such as might aptly be admitted into the collection of a curioso. It would be difficult to characterize the different varieties, but the attentive observer will perceive an almost universal repudiation of calves. We hope soon for a change, but as yet they continue to grow "gradually small and beautifully less."

world renowned Gobelin carpets. These carpets are remarkable, both artistically and historically. They A good joke occurred recently in England, at the named after their inventor Jean Gobelin. were first manufactured in the fifteenth century, and Haymarket. Buckstone, as probably our readers know, has recently produced a caricature of Albert XIV. purchased the manufactory for the state, and Smith's celebrated entertainment the " Ascent of Mont since that time it has belonged to the government. Blanc." In the farce, Mr. Canfield does the Spirit of The art was nearly lost in the revolution, but was Mont Blanc, in which he gives imitations of Albert entire, and the designs are copies of the most celerestored by Napoleon. Each carpet is manufactured Smith. On one occasion it was particularly good, brated pictures. So exquisitely delicate are they that years are required in their production, and the most eminent artists are engaged in superintending them. They are valued at from fifteen to twenty thousand When boys begin to tear up their books, it is a sign dollars. The largest one ever manufactured was for the holidays are about to commence. the Louvre, which was a quarter of a mile long.

and at the close of the piece the actor was summoned before the curtain, it turned out that Mr. Canfield being taken suddenly ill, Mr. Smith had appeared in his stead, and had been giving imitations and making fun of himself. The discovery of the joke was received with shouts of laughter.

LOVE LANE.

BY THE LATE THOMAS HOOD.

IF I should love a lady more,

And woo her ev'ry hope to crown, I'd love her all the country o'er,

But not declare it out of town.

One even, by a mossy bank,

That held a hornet's nest within, To Ellen on my knees I sank

How snakes will twine around the shin.

A bashful fear my soul unnerved,

And gave my heart a backward tug; Nor was I cheer'd when she observed, Whilst I was silent-" What a slug !" At length my offer I preferr'd,

And Hope a kind reply forbodeAlas! the only sound I heard

Was, "What a horrid ugly toad!"

I vow'd to give her all my heart,
To love her till my life took leave,
And painted all a lover's smart-
Except a wasp gone up his sleeve!
But when I ventur'd to abide

Her father's and her mother's grants-
Sudden, she started up and cried,
"Oh, dear! I am all over ants!"

Nay, when beginning to beseech

The cause that led to my rebuff,
The answer was as strange a speech,-
A "Daddy-Longlegs, sure enough!"

I spoke of fortune-house-and lands-
And still renew'd the warm attack-
'Tis vain to offer ladics hands

That have a spider on the back!
"Tis vain to talk of hopes and fears,
And hope the least reply to win,
From any maid that stops her ears
In dread of earwigs creeping in!
'Tis vain to call the dearest names,
Whilst stoats and weasels startle by-
As vain to talk of mutual flames,

To one with glow-worms in her eye!
What check'd me in my fond address,

And knock'd each pretty image down?
What stopp'd my Ellen's faltering Yes?
A caterpillar on her gown!

To list to Philomel is sweet-
To see the moon rise silver pale-
But not to kneel at Lady's feet,
And crush a rival in a snail!

Sweet is the eventide, and kind
Its zephyr, balmy as the south;
But sweeter still to speak your mind
Without a chafer in your mouth!
At last, embolden'd by my bliss,

Still fickle Fortune played me foul,
For when I strove to snatch a kiss,
She scream'd-by proxy, through an ow!!
Then, Lovers, doom'd to life or death,
Shun moonlight, twilight, lanes, and bats,
Lest you should have in selfsame breath

To bless your fate-and curse the gnats!

AN EXQUISITE STORY BY LAMARTINE. IN the tribe of Neggdeh, there was a horse, whose fame was spread far and near, and a Bedouin of another tribe, by name Daher, desired extremely to possess it. Having offered in vain for it his camels and his whole wealth, he hit at length upon the following device, by which he hoped to gain the object of his desire:

He resolved to stain his face with the juice of an herb, to clothe himself in rags, to tie his legs and neck together, so as to appear like a lame beggar. Thus equipped, he went to wait for Naber, the owner of the horse, who he knew was to pass that way. When he saw Naber approaching on his beautiful steed, he cried out in a weak voice

"I am a poor stranger; for three days I have been unable to move from this spot to seek for food. I am dying, help me, and heaven will reward you." The Bedouin kindly offered to take him up on his horse and carry him home.

But the rogue replied, "I cannot rise; I have no strength left."

Naber touched with pity, dismounted, led his horse to the spot, and, with great difficulty, set the seeming beggar on his back. But no sooner did Daber feel himself in the saddle, than he set spurs to the horse, and galloped off, calling out as he did so

"It is I, Daher. I have got the horse, and am off with it."

Naber called for him to stop and listen. Certain of not being pursued, he turned, and halted at a short distance from Naber, who was armed with a spear.

"Since

"You have taken my horse," said the latter.
heaven has willed it, I wish you joy of it; but I do
conjure you never to tell any one how you obtained
it."

"And why not?" said Daher.

"Because," said the noble Arab, "another man might be really ill, and men would fear to help him. You would be the cause of many refusing to perform an act of charity, for fear of being duped as I have been."

Struck with shame at these words, Daher was silent for a moment, then springing from the horse, returned it to its owner, embracing him. Naber made him accompany him to his tent, where they spent a few days together, and became fast friends for life.

STORY OF A HUMORIST,

"What was the reason of cries of fire, then?" "Bless you, sir, you must have been dreaming; why there's not so much as a mouse stirring, and his honor and the whole family have been asleep these three hours!"

The Irishman now gave up all credit in the testimony of his own senses.

"I must ha' been dreaming, indeed, and ha' hurt myself by falling out of the bed."

"Hurt yourself, sir!-not much, I hope, the bed is so low ;" and by this time it had been made to descend to its first level.

The poor Irishman was quite confused; quite ashamed at disturbing the family; begged a thousand pardons; accompanied the servants to the door, closed it after them, and was once more left in the dark.

WELL, I have seen your friend, and find him to be the door, and the bed was soon beyond the reach of our

exactly what you described him as being-a humorist. He seems to have imparted much of that character to everything around him. His servants are all admirably disciplined to second his whims, and his very furniture is, for the most part, adapted to the same purpose. This put me upon my guard, and there was hardly anything in the room that I did not touch with apprehension. No trick, however, was practised upon me, and as I found subsequently, I was indebted for such indulgence to one which was reserved for me at night, and which was such as perhaps all my English phlegm would not have enabled me to bear with patience. I escaped, however, being put to the proof, by the merest accident-the arrival of a poor Irish surveyor, who was thought a fit subject for the often repeated experiment.

The Irishman was treated with extreme hospitality; he was helped to everything to excess; his glass was never allowed to stand, full or empty, one minute. The potations were suspended not until, and only while, the cloth was laying for supper, during and after which they were resumed with renovated energy. Our entertainer was like the landlord described by Addison; the liquor seemed to have no other effect upon him than upon any other vessel in the house. It was not so with his Irish guest, who was by this time much further advanced upon the cruise of intoxication than half

seas over.

But the last act of the pantomime was not performed The spring had been immediately touched upon closing guest. We could hear him groping about and uttering frequent ejaculations of astonishment. He easily found the bed-posts, but it was in vain he would endeavor to get in. He moved his hands up and down. His leg was often lifted by way of getting in, but always encountered the floor upon its descent. He uttered exclamations of surprise, not loud, but deep, for fear of again disturbing the family. He concluded himself to be in the possession of some evil spirit.

In short when it was found by his silence, that he had given up the task as hopeless, and had disposed of himself upon one of the chairs, the bed was allowed to slide down again; and, in the morning, he could not but express his astonishment at not being able to find it in the dark.

66

NELSON'S HEART.-Human nature is very frail. No man ever had a stronger sense of it, under the influence of a sense of justice, than Lord Nelson. He was loth to inflict punishment; and when he was obliged, as he called it, "to endure the torture of seeing men flogged," he came out of his cabin with a hurried step, ran into the gangway, made a bow to the officers, and reading the articles of war the culprit had infringed, said: Boatswain, do your duty!" The lash was instantly applied, and, consequently, the sufferer exclaimed: "Forgive me, admiral-forgive me!" On such an ocIn this state he was conducted to his chamber-acasion, Lord Nelson would look round with wild anxfine, lofty Gothic apartment, with a bedstead that iety, and as all his officers kept silence, he would say: seemed coeval with the building. I say seemed; for "What! none of you speak for him? Avast! cast him that was by no means the case, it being in reality a off!" And then he added to the culprit: "Jack, in modern piece of structure. It was of dark mahogany, the day of battle, remember me!" He became a good with its four posts extending completely to the ceiling fellow in future. A poor man was to be flogged-a of the chamber. The bed, however, was not more than landsman-and few pitied him. His offence was about two feet from the floor, the better to enable the drunkenness. As he was being tied up, a lovely girl, party to get into it. The Irishman, with a good deal contrary to all rules, rushed through the officers, and, of assistance, was soon undressed, and had his body falling on her knees, clasped Nelson's hand, in which deposited in this place of repose. All the party then were the articles of war, exclaiming, "Pray, forgive retired, wishing him good night, and removing the him, your honor, and he shall never offend again !” candle for fear of accidents. "Your pretty face," said Nelson, "is a security for his good behavior. Let him go! the fellow cannot be bad who has such a lovely creature in his care." This man rose to be a lieutenant; his name was William Pye.

When the door was closed, I was for the first time made acquainted with the structure of the bedstead, which our host considered as his masterpiece. Upon the touching of a spring, outside the door, the bed was so acted upon by a pulley, that it ascended slowly and smoothly through the four posts, until it came within two or three feet of the ceiling. The snoring of the Irishman was the signal for touching the spring, and he was now at the proper altitude.

A CHILLING INTERVIEW.-In Professor Goodrich's British Eloquence, we find the following piquant annecdote, illustrative of the ascendancy of Lord Chatham over the Earl of Newcastle :

The servants required no instructions how to act. In one moment the house was in an uproar; cries of "The Earl was a valetudinarian, and he was so fear"Fire! Fire!" were heard in different directions. A ful of taking cold, especially, that he often ordered the pile of shavings were set in a blaze opposite the win-windows of the House of Lords to be shut in the hotdow where the poor Irishman slept. The landlord's test weather, while the rest of the peers were suffering voice was continually heard, exclaiming, "Good heavens! save the poor Irish gentleman, if possible; the flames have got into the room just under him!"

At this moment we heard him fall and bellow out. A sudden silence took place-every light was extinguished, and the whole house seemed to be buried in the most profound repose. The Irishman's voice could alone be heard roaring out, in the highest dialect of his country, for assistance.

At length two of the men servants, in their shirts,
entered the room, with a candle just lit, and yawning,
as if just aroused from their first sleep. They found
him sprawling on the floor.

"Oh dear, sir, what is the matter with you?"
"Matter!" says he; "why isn't the house on fire!"
"Not at all, sir."

for the want of breath. On one occasion he called on Pitt, who was confined to his bed by the gout, Newcastle, on being led to the bed-chamber, found the room, to his disinay, without fire, on a cold, wintry afternoon. He begged to have one kindled, but Pitt refused; it might be injurious to his gout. Newcastle drew his cloak around him, and submitted with a passable grace.

"The conference was a long one, and the discussion continued until the Earl was actually shivering with cold; when, at last, seeing another bed in the opposite corner, he slipped in, and covered himself with the bed-clothes. A secretary coming in soon after, found the two ministers in this curious predicament, with their faces only visible, bandying the argument with great earnestness from one bedside to the other."

HUSH!

"I CAN scarcely hear," she murmured,
"For my heart beats loud and fast,
But surely, in the far, far distance,
I can hear a sound at last."

"It is only the reapers singing,
As they carry home their sheaves
And the evening breeze has risen,
And rustles the dying leaves."
"Listen! there are voices talking."
Calmly still she strove to speak,
Yet her voice grew faint and trembling,
And the red flushed in her cheek.
"It is only the children playing

Below, now their work is done,
And they laugh that their eyes are dazzled
By the rays of the setting sun."

Fainter grew her voice, and weaker,
As with anxious eyes she cried,

"Down the avenue of chestnuts,

I can hear a horseman ride,"

"It is only the deer that were feeding
In a herd on the clover grass,
They were startled, and fled to the thicket
As they saw the reapers pass."

Now the night arose in silence,
Birds lay in their leafy nest,

And the deer couched in the forest,
And the children were at rest;

There was only a sound of weeping
From watchers around a bed;
But rest to the weary spirit,
Peace to the quiet Dead!

GLEANINGS FROM HISTORY.

ROMANTIC ESCAPE OF JAMES, DUKE OF YORK.

Ar the surrender of Oxford to the Parliamentary forces, in 1646, James, Duke of York, the second son of Charles I., fell into the hands of Fairfax, and was shortly afterwards, with the Duke of Gloucester and the Princess Elizabeth, sent a prisoner to St. James's Palace. The romantic manner in which he effected his escape from his place of confinement does great credit to the ingenuity and presence of mind of one so young-for he had not yet completed his fifteenth year.

Having, on two previous occasions, been discovered in attempts to effect his escape, he had ever since been watched with great vigilance, which, of course, rendered the third essay the more hazardous. The principal persons in his secret were Colonel Bamfield and Mr. George Howard, by whom the necessary preparations were made for his flight.

The "Stuart Papers" give the following account of the transaction:---

the Duke. Bamfield had hired a large row barge,
with a cabin in it, in which they proposed to proceed
down the river, below Gravesend, where a Dutch ves-
sel was in readiness to sail with them at a moment's
notice. An accident, however, occurred, which nearly
frustrated their plans.

Well remembered was he of the nations,-he of the unfaltering purpose; daily was their conversation of him; daily with the sun did they recollect the thing for which he had gone forth. Yet he returned not, and the great doctor died,-a man of many words was he, but yet ignorant. The old chief died, and the great men of the nation, but the young warrior came not back again. The people looked for him, the seen. Years passed away, and all the infants of the tribes had become white-haired old men, and had gone away to the hunting-fields of the Great Spirit, but the gallant youth never came again. So long ago had it been, that he was forgotten, and the reason of his going forth was forgotten, his name was blotted from the scroll of the memories of his tribe.

"The owner of the barge, suspecting that the Duke was some disguised person of high rank, peeped through a cranny in the cabin door, when he perceived prophets prophesied of his coming, but he could not be the young prince with his leg on the table, tying his gaiters in so unfeminine a manner that his suspicions were thoroughly aroused. Bamfield subsequently discovering by the change in the man's manner and the disinclination which he expressed of proceeding further than Gravesend, that he was aware of at least a part of their secret, contrived to purchase his silence. Accordingly, on approaching Gravesend, they extinguished their lights, and, lest the sound of the oars might discover them, floated past the town with the tide. They were fortunate enough to fall in with the vessel which was expecting them, and, after a prosperous voyage, arrived in safety at Middleburgh in Holland.

along. The spring-time, when the snows melt away,
and the fields look green, and animals are all busy
again, had come, and it was irresistible.

Now, it was usual with the chiefs of the Choctaw
nation to assemble to discuss all matters having interest
for the well-being of the people,-to allot the districts
of the hunting-grounds, to make war, and to confirm
treaties by the pipe of peace.

And thus it happened, that in the merry spring-
time, when friendship is warmest, trucst, trusticst, the
old men of the tribe met the young men in council, for
the young men proposed changes and reforms which
the old men were willing to discuss with them.
All matters having been arranged, the soothing pipe
went from hand to hand, the old men thanking the
Great Spirit for the pleasant times of peace, and the
young men anxiously hoping for many, many years of
it. "The Great Spirit," they thought, "is good and
noble, mild and merciful, strong and unwearying. His
beginning is like that of the sun, unknown, and his
end likewise. Inscrutable both, magnificent all!"
Hence arose the question: "Whither does the sun
depart at the close of the day!"

Then arose the great doctor, and he spoke, but his
words, like those of many great doctors, were vain and
doubtful. He sat down, and the last echo of his words
died in the forest. Vain were his words, but sound-
ing!

Then arose an aged chief, renowned for eloquence, but he arose and said that he knew nothing of it. Confounded was his mind, and he sat down in silence.

Many of the chiefs arose, and many-nay, allavowed their ignorance. Dark was the object, but mighty!

"All things being in readiness, the Duke went to supper at the usual hour, in the company of his brother and sister; and when supper was ended, they went to play at hide-and-seek with the rest of the young people in the house. At this childish sport the Duke had accustomed himself to play, for a fortnight together, every night, and had used to hide himself in places so difficult to find, that most commonly they were half an hour in searching for him; at the end of which time he usually came out to them of his own accord. This blind he laid to cover his design, that they might be accustomed to miss him, before he really intended his escape; by which means, when he came to practise it in earnest, he was secure of gaining that half hour before they could reasonably suspect that he was gone. His intention had all the success he could desire: for that night, as soon as they began their play, he pretended, according to his custom, to hide himself. But instead of so doing, he went first into his sister's chamber, and there locked up a little dog that used to follow him, that he might not be discovered by it; then, slipping down a pair of back stairs which led into the inmost garden-having found means beforehand to furnish himself with the key of a back door Then arose the pride of the warriors, a youth in from the said garden into St. James's Park. He there freshness and activity unsurpassed, patient as the found Colonel Bamfield, who waited with a footman, beaver, courageous as an Indian only can be :-"I will ready to receive him, and who brought a cloak, which leave my people!" said he; "I will quit the haunt of he threw over him, and put on a periwig. From the beaver, I will depart from the traces of the buffalo, thence they went through the Spring Garden, where a I will turn away from the well-beloved lodge of my hackney coach was waiting, which carried them to family; but I will seek the going down of the sun, I Salisbury House. will win a name for my people, they will find me, whom they have benefited and assisted, not unmindful of their desire."

Then it was asked: "Is there no way by which the matter might be ascertained! Could the resting-place of the weary sun be discovered by a long, long journey into the depths of the dark forest, far, far away from the haunts of the beaver; far, far beyond the tribes of the nations? Was there any warrior in the bands of the people of the Choctaws who would depart from the hunting-lodges, would leave the hunting-grounds, and peril himself among the doubtful abodes beyond the lodges of the enemy?"

"Pretending that they had business there, the fugitives alighted from the coach; but no sooner was the driver out of sight, then they proceeded on foot down Then he bade them farewell; and "Bear me in Ivy Lane to the river's side, where they hired a boat, remembrance," said he; "though I am indeed but and landed on the south side of London Bridge. weak in comparison with the task I have to perform, From hence they hastened to the house of Lee, a sur-yet the Great Spirit shall sustain me, and he will geon, where a Mrs. Murray was expecting them with gratify my thirst for knowledge! One day I shall a suit of female apparel, in which she rapidly attired return, and all will be well."

Summers, autumns, winters, springs, had passed and passed again, and the forest-trees bowed again before the gentle breath of the wind. Merry springtime, the time of light hearts, had again come round.

The nations were assembled, and the pipe passed round once more. The men, the women, and the children of the tribe were there. Mirth was in each eye, gladness in each bosom. Peace and plenty were known far and wide in the land.

Then came tottering in an old man,-a very, very old man, with a bent form and a head of snow; but an eye of fire beamed from the wrinkled brow. It was the eye of knowledge,-he had suffered, he had toiled,

The people rose up and testified their reverence for the old man.

"Have ye forgotten me, has the young man who sought the resting-place of the sun died out of your memory?"

Then the oldest man of the assembly remembered the tale which his father had told him, that such a thing had happened.

"Behold," said the traveller, "the man! I am the youthful warrior. I sought the resting-place of the sun amidst the solitudes of far-distant hunting-grounds. I passed over rocks, over rivers, over prairies, through forests, and came to a great water. Standing there upon the brink of the shore, I saw the sun descend. and fall into the water. I said that I would return, and the Great Spirit has guided me back to you. Bury me in the land of my fathers. My work is done. Farewell all of you!"

And the old man lay down and died, and the Choctaws preserve his memory in the expression for the setting sun: hoshi, the sun,-oka, water,―tula, to fall : -The sun falls into the water.

And as the search for the resting-place of the sun, so is the search for knowledge and truth. Sufferings are undergone, troubles beset us all, and when we see the truth, we find it setting beyond our reach, and passing away from us.

CARDINAL RICHELIEU, amongst all his great occupations, found a recreation in violent exercises; and he was once discovered jumping with his servant, to try who could reach the highest side of a wall. De Grammont, observing the cardinal to be jealous of his powers, offered to jump with him; and, in the true spirit of a reached the cardinal's, confessed the cardinal surpassed courtier, having made some efforts, which nearly him. This was jumping like a politician; and by this means, he is said to have ingratiated himself with the

minister.

A POET'S SENTIMENT.-When Sir Francis Chantrey was building his mausoleum, he said to Allen Cunningham, his friend and principal assistant, that he would make the vault large enough to contain him also. “ No," said Allan, "I should not like, even when I am dead, to be so shut up. I would far rather rest where the daisies will grow over my head."

soul of conversation. Mr. Sumner, in his speech at A FRENCH maxim declares that the paradox is the the Hale dinner, gave utterance to a startling specimen of this when he said, "Surely the wrong is not less wrong, because it is gigantic." Had a thunderclap broke upon the spacious hall, its effect would hardly have been surpassed.

The most elevated and pure souls cannot hear, even from the lips of the most contemptible men, these words, friendship, sensibility, virtue, without immediately attaching to them all the grandeur of which their heart is susceptible.-Jean Paul Richter.