unpleasing rusticity of air, Sir Francis comprehended at once that he was from the country; but he also felt satisfied, from his bearing and deportment, that he was a gentleman: a term not quite so vaguely applied then as it is now-a-days. The youth had a fine frank gence, and a figure perfectly proportioned and athletic. Sir countenance, remarkable for manly beauty and intelliSir Francis set him down as well skilled in all exercises: vaulting, leaping, riding, and tossing the pike ; nor was he mistaken. He also concluded him to be fond of country sports; and he was right in the supposition. He further imagined the young man had come to town to better his fortune, and seek a place at Court; and he was not far wrong in the notion. As the wily knight scanned the handsome features of figure, he thought that success must infallibly attend his companion, his clean-made limbs, and symmetrical the production of such a fair youth at Court where personal advantages were the first consideration. pose, being lofty and spacious, and lighted by an oriel the other. Lord Roos was Sir Francis's sworn ene- As Sir Francis was ushered into the eating-room, he was quite taken aback by the unusually magnificent display, and felt greatly surprised that no hint of the banquet had been given him, on his arrival, by the hostess. The feast had already commenced; and all the yeoman-waiters and trencher-scrapers were too busily occupied to attend to him. Cyprien, who marshalled the dishes at the lower-table, did not deign to notice him, and was deaf to his demand for a place. It seemed probable he would not obtain one at all; and he was about to retire, much disconcerted, when a young man, somewhat plainly habited, and who seemed a stranger to all present, very good-naturedly made room for him. In this way he was squeezed in. Sir Francis then cast a look around to ascertain who was present; but he was so inconveniently situated, and the crowd of serving-men was so great at the upper table, that he could only imperfectly distinguish those seated at it; besides which, most of the guests were hidden by the traverse. Such, however, as he could make out were richly attired in doublets of silk and satin, while their rich velvet mantles, plumed and jewelled caps, and long rapiers, were carried by their servants. Two or three turned round to look at him as he sat down; and amongst these he remarked Sir Edward Villiers, whose presence was far from agreeable to him, for though Sir Edward was secretly connected with him and Sir Giles, and took tithe of their spoliations, he disowned them in public, and would assuredly not countenance any open display of their rapacious proceedings. Another personage whom he recognised, from his obesity, the peculiarity of his long flowing periwig, and his black velvet Parisian pourpoint, which contrasted forcibly with the glittering habiliments of his companions, was Doctor Mayerne-Turquot, the celebrated French professor of medicine, then so high in favor with James, that, having been loaded with honors and dignities, he had been recently named the King's first physician. Doctor Mayerne's abilities were so distinguished, that his Protestant faith alone prevented him from occupying the same eminent position in the court of France that he did in that of England. The doctor's presence at the banquet was unpropitious; it was natural he should befriend a countrywoman and a Huguenot like himself, and, pos eggs. What Francis's appearance; and something was said which, CHAPTER IV. A STAR-CHAMBER VICTIM. After replenishing his glass, Sir Francis addressed himself in his blandest accents, and with his most insidious manner, to his youthful neighbor: "For a stranger to town, as I conclude you to be, hit in coming hither to-day, since you have not only young sir," he said, "you have made rather a lucky got a better dinner than I (a constant frequenter of the French ordinary) ever saw served here (though the attendance is abominable, as you must have remarked that rascally Cyprien deserves the bastinado); but, your civility and good manners have introduced you to one, who may, without presumption, affirm that he hath the will, and, it may be, the ability to serve you; if you will only point out to him the way." man modestly replied; "I have done nothing to merit Nay, worthy sir, you are too kind," the young your good opinion, though I am happy to have gained it. I rejoice that accident has so far befriended me as to bring me here on this festive occasion; and I rejoice yet more that it has made me acquainted with a worthy gentleman like yourself, to whom my rustic manners prove not to be displeasing. I have too few friends to neglect any chance that may offer; and as I must carve my own way in the world, and fight for a position in it, I gladly accept any hand that may be stretched out to help me in the struggle." sessing the royal ear, he might make such representa- now found leisure to consider the young man he added aloud, with apparent cordiality, and affecting tions as he pleased to the king of what should occur. Sir Francis hoped he would be gone before Sir Giles appeared. IS hunger being somewhat stayed, Sir Francis who so greatly befriended him, and, as a means of promoting conversation between them, began by filling But there is yet a third person, who gave the his glass from a flask of excellent Bordeaux, of which, usurious knight more uneasiness than the other two. in spite of Cyprien's efforts to prevent him, he had This was a handsome young man, with fair hair and contrived to gain possession. The young man acdelicate features, whose slight elegant figure was ar- knowledged his courtesy with a smile, praised the rayed in a crimson satin doublet, slashed with white, wine, and expressed his astonishment at the wonderand hose of the same colors and fabric. The young ful variety and excellence of the repast, for which he nobleman in question, whose handsome features and said he was quite unprepared. It was not Sir Francis's prematurely wasted frame bore the impress of cyni-way to feel or express much interest in strangers, and cism and debauchery, was Lord Roos, then recently he disliked young men, especially when they were entrapped into marriage with the daughter of Sir handsome, as was the case with his new acquaintance; Thomas Lake, Secretary of State; a marriage produc- but there was something in the youth that riveted his ive of the usual consequences of such imprudent ar- attention. rangements-neglect on the one side, unhappiness on From the plainness of his attire, and a certain not "Just as I would have it," Sir Francis thought, "the very man I took him for. As I am a true gentleman, mine shall not be wanting, my good youth," to regard the other with great interest; "and when I learn the particular direction in which you intend to shape your course, I shall be the better able to advise and guide you. There are many ways to fortune." "Mine should be the shortest, if I had any choice," the young man rejoined with a smile. 66 Right, quite right," the crafty knight returned. "All men should take that road, if they could find it. But, with some, the shortest road would not be the safest. In your case I think it might be different. You have a sufficiently good mien, and a sufficiently good figure, to serve you in lieu of other advantages." "Your fair speech would put me in conceit with myself, worthy sir," the young man rejoined, with a well-pleased air; "were I not too conscious of my own demerits, not to impute what you say of me to goodnature, or to flattery." come." "There you wrong me, my good young friend-on my credit you do. Were I to resort to adulation, I must strain the points of compliment to find phrases that should come up to my opinion of your good looks; and as to my friendly disposition towards you, I have already said that your attentions have won it, so that mere good-nature does not prompt my words. I speak of you, as I think. May I, without appearing too inquisitive, ask from what part of the country you "I am from Norfolk, worthy sir," the young man answered," where my life has been spent among a set of men, wild and uncouth, and fond of the chase as the Sherwood archers we read of in the ballads. I am the son of a broken gentleman: the lord of a ruined house; with one old servant left me out of fifty kept by my father, and with scarce a hundred acres that I can still call my own, out of the thousands swept away from me. Still I hunt in my father's woods; kill my father's deer; and fish in my father's lakes; since no one molests me. And I keep up the little church near the old tumble-down hall, in which are the tombs of my ancestors, and where my father lies buried; and the tenantry come there on Sundays, though I am no longer their master; and my father's old chaplain, Sir Oliver, still preaches there, though my father's son can no longer maintain him." "A sad change, truly," Sir Francis said, in a tone of sympathy, and with a look of well-feigned concern; "and attributable, I much fear, to riot and profusion on the part of your father, who so beggared his son." "Not so, sir," the young man gravely replied; "my father was a most honorable man, and would have injured no one, much less the son on whom he doated. Neither was he profuse; but lived bountifully and well, as a country gentleman, with a large estate, should live. The cause of his ruin was that he came within the clutches of that devouring monster, which, like the insatiate dragon of Rhodes, has swallowed up the substance of so many families, that our land is threatened with desolation. My father was ruined by that court, which, with a mockery of justice, robs men of their name, their fame, their lands, and goods; which perverts the course of law, and saps the principles of equity; which favors the knave, and oppresses the honest man; which promotes and supports extortion and plunder; which reverses righteous judgments, and asserts its own unrighteous supremacy; which, by means of its commissioners, spreads its hundred arms over the whole realm, to pillage and destroy-so that no one, however distant, can keep out of its reach, or escape its supervision; and which, if it be not uprooted, will, in the end overthrow the kingdom. Need I say my father was ruined by the Star-Chamber?" "Hush! hush! my good young sir," Sir Francis cried, having vainly endeavored to interrupt his companion's angry denunciation. "Pray heaven your words have reached no other ears than mine! To speak of the Star-Chamber as you have spoken is worse than treason. Many a man has lost his ears, and been branded on the brow for half you have uttered." "Is free speech denied in this free country?" the young man cried in astonishment. "Must one suffer grievous wrong, and not complain ?" "Certes, you must not contemn the Star-Chamber, or you will incur its censure," Sir Francis replied in a low tone. "No court in England is so jealous of its prerogatives, nor so severe in punishment of its maligners. It will not have its proceeding convassed, nor its judgments questioned." MR. BRYANT AT THE TOMB OF NAPOLEON. THE AGREEABLE SURPRISE. of a conqueror; it was the shrine of Napoleon; this altar formed a part of his monument, and this hymn, whatever its words, was chanted in his honor. I had THE other day I went to the church of the Invalides, before me one of the forms in which the Tower of Desto see the tomb of Napoleon, which has been several truction is still worshipped. What a groundless fancy years erecting at an immense cost, and is just complet- to suppose that the adoration of a Great Spirit of Evil ed. There is not on earth so magnificent a mausoleum has become extinct with the race of ancient Persians, as that which is destined for the remains of the former or exists only among a few savage tribes. I left the Emperor of France. On entering the church I found place with the throng, passing out to the street through myself in the midst of a throng hastening in the same the Hospital of the Invalides for we were not perdirection, and saw before me, at the opposite end of mitted to retrace our steps to the principal entrance. the building, a large altar, blazing with gold, under a I left it with a strong impression of the yet imperfect gilded canopy, which rested on twisted pillars of black civilization of mankind. and white marble. In front of it, immediately under the windows of the dome, appeared a circular balustrade of white marble, around which the people were pressing. I joined them, and saw that it enclosed a broad, open space, sunk, perhaps, fifteen feet below the church. There, on a pedestal of blue granite, stood an enormous open sarcophagus of polished porphyry, the lid of which lay near it, on a machine, ready to be slid over it as soon as the ceremony of sculpture shall be performed. On the pavement below, around the pedestal, was a wreath of laurel leaves and berries, wrought of various colored marble-among which a vivid green marble from tho quarries of the United States, was conspicuous. Surrounding the sarcophagus, and standing against the pillars which support the floor, was a circle of colossal figures in marble, the meaning of which I did not attempt to study, One of them, a winged figure with a trumpet by his side, was perhaps the angel of the resurrection, who is to summon the great warrior from his grave on the day of account, when he will be unpleasantly confronted by the multitudes who were slain in his wars. In the recesses behind these statutes were sculptures in basrelief, representing some of the most important events of Bonaparte's history. In that sarcophagus is soon to be placed the handful I regretted that I could not look at the sculptures in THERE resided in Bordeaux, a young, rich, and handsome widow, who had for six months incessantly lamented the loss of a husband, tenderly beloved. A fatal storm had wrecked the vessel in which he had embarked, and every soul on board was supposed to have perished. The young widow, though surrounded by admirers, observed scrupulously the rules of decorum; at length, however, the persuasions of her friends had effect, and she once more threw open her doors to receive company. Madame St. Amière had one foible, she loved play to excess; and this foible alone threatened to involve her in much trouble. On the evening of her first fete, a tall, graceful figure, masked, followed her, paying her innumerable silent attentions. To rid herself of his importunities, she sat down at the card-table, and was successful for about an hour. The mask, who had fixed himself behind her chair, then solicited the honor of playing with her, which she granted, and renewed the game with fresh spirit, though not with equal good fortune. Madame was piqued at the superior skill of the impertinent mask, and staked to an immense amount. Still the stranger was triumphant, and pulling from his pocket a large purse of gold, tauntingly dared her to risk the like amount. Although absolute ruin might have been the consequence of her imprudence, Madame would not recede, but anxiety and vexation disturbed her countenance. For some time the game was doubtful; at length the malignant deity decided against her, and the rash widow found her fortune destroyed by one night's folly. Her anguish could not be concealedshe arose abruptly from the card-table, when the mask, in an insinuating tone of voice, hinted to her that she need not put herself to any inconvenience to make up this debt of honor, as he could wait her lesiure, or compromise it in some other way, with more pleasure to himself and less embarrassment to her. She darted on him a look of rage and contempt. "Who are you, wretch!" she exclaimed, "who dares thus to insult me in my own house?" 66 Softly, Madame," replied the mask, "I am no would not be ungrateful for such an accommodation." gambler nor needy adventurer-there are ladies who Madame burst into tears. "Good heavens! must I endure this insolence? Quit my house, sir; and, if you are a gentleman, make good your claim to-morrow." "No madame, I will not quit your house to-night; my claim is on your fortune or yourself, and I will make it good, let who will dispute it." With these words he removed his mask, when Madame uttered a shriek of joyful surprise, and fainted in his arms. The company crowded round; they were chiefly relations, who immediately recognised the Chevalier St. Amière. The raptures of Madame may be easily imagined, when, on recovering, her husband informed her that he had been saved from the wreck by a brave sailor, who had taken him into his own ship, which was bound to Peru-that he remained there till a convenient opportunity offered for his return-and having been fortunate enough to amass a considerable portion of wealth, had meditated this agreeable surprise in hope of curing her of a destructive habit, the consequence of which he had long dreaded. But, we had not yet seen the whole of the monument. Passing by the glittering altar, we descended a flight of steps to the level of the great Court of the Invalides. Here, immediately back of the altar and under it, I saw the entrance to the tomb, a massive "For the plain reason that it knows they will not doorway, over which are engraved the words of Napobear investigation or discussion. Such is the practice leon expressing his desire to be buried among the of all arbitrary and despotic rule. But, will English-French people on the banks of the Seine. On each men submit to such tyranny?" side of this passage stands a colossal figure in bronze; one of them bearing, on a cushion, a globe and sceptre, the symbols of dominion, and the other a sword and gauntlet, emblematic of the violence by which that dominion was gained, and, for a brief space, upheld. As we were considering these figures, the voices of priests and a choir, chanting at the altar above, resounded up the lofty dome; it was a litany, nominally addressed to the God of Peace. I looked about me and saw only the symbols of warlike glory, and encouragement to the pursuit of renown in arms. On the walls were the Having received the congratulations of their friends, sumptuous monuments of men who had distinguished the amusements of the evening, which had been so themselves as the instruments of warlike ambition and strangely interrupted, were again renewed; and the conquest-Vauban, Marshal Bertrand, and others. This adventure was many months the talk throughout Borchurch itself has been converted into the Mausoleum deaux. "Again, let me counsel you to put a bridle on your tongue, young sir. Such matters are not to be talked of at public tables-scarcely in private. It is well you have addressed yourself to one who will not betray you. The Star-Chamber hath its spies everywhere. Meddle not with it as you value liberty. Light provocation arouses its anger; and once aroused, its warmth is all-consuming." Continued on Page 49. The game of backgammon is said to have been invented in Wales, in the tenth or eleventh century, and derived its name from the two Welch words, back, little, and cammon, battle. Madame embraced him with transport, and assured him she would never again yield to temptation, or continue a practice of which she now saw the madness in glaring colors. I TAKE BACK THE RING, DEAR JAMIE. And a' the vows you made yestreen But gie me back my heart again- Gin ye'll no wait a fitting time, I promised to my daddie, Afore he slipped awa', I ne'er would leave my mammie. I canna leave my mammie, Sin e'er I was a bairnie, A wee thing on her knee. I mauna leave my mammie, Her heid is bending to the mools, I'd a' its honors tine, To watch her steps in helpless age, AN ESCAPE FROM VERDUN. My triumph over my hostess was evident in the man of honor; and, now, my friend, do not imbibe faces of the company, and the conversation changed the vulgar prejudices instilled into your countrymen with the grace and facility peculiar to the French. by your press, that the French officers are ferocious It was two years after this, that I had a singular canaille. We fight for military glory, whilst the peropportunity of escaping from Verdun. I had ceased sonal malignity of your officers against us strips war to be on parole, and a combination of circumstances, of all its pride and magnanimity. Farewell-and let advantageous to my escape, was offered to me by us exchange these snuff-boxes as a memorial of this friends. My plan was to go to Paris, and from thence scene; but I have one favor to ask of you: Do you to travel to Bordeaux as an American merchant, know an English town called Reading?" returning to Baltimore. In the diligence to Bordeaux, was a vivacious and loquacious little French woman-very pretty, and of most insinuating manners. Another compagnon de voyage was a captain of the Cuirassiers of the Imperial Guard. He was the beau ideal of a military hero young, tall, of a powerful frame, with an open, noble countenance, and a profusion of jet-black whiskers and moustaches. "Intimately; it lies on the high road between the metropolis and my little paternal property. I pass through it five or six times every year." "Then do me this sacred office of friendship:-I have a young brother, a lieutenant de vaisseau, who was badly wounded and captured by one of your ships of war. He is a prisoner at Reading: I have never relieved his necessities, partly from want of means, and partly from my absence with the Emperor at Austerlitz, Wagram, and Jena. Take these seventy napoleons; deliver them to my brother, and console him by what you know of me and of his kind old uncle and aunt." We became almost confidential even at the outset of the journey; and what did not a little surprise me was, that he spoke to me by my assumed name, as if we had been old friends, though I felt convinced I had never set eyes on him before. So superb a Murat-like We parted: I was but eight-and-forty hours at Borfigure of a military officer was not easily to be forgot-deaux, when I obtained a passage on board a ship bound to Charleston, South Carolina. In the night, when out of sight of land, the captain put the helm up, and steered due north. On my expressing my astonishment, he frankly told me that his American papers were all forged, and that he was bound to the port of London, adding : ten. Arrived at the little town of about twenty I was at last reluctantly overcome, and the officer WAS among the English who were detained in France at the breaking out of the war, in 1803. My rank, as an army physician, enabled me to be of much service to many of my countrymen at Verdun; whilst the fees I obtained from the wealthier individuals supplied all my necessities. My medical character likewise introduced me extensively into French society; and I must confess that I was always treated with kindness and delicacy. Though many of the military, the employés, and even the rich house-holders had risen, as the English phrase is, from "the dregs of the people," by the conflicts of the revolution, I almost always found them polite, liberal, and sincere. Good manners are really of very easy acquirement by people of intellect; witness the stage and revolutions, which always give the ascendancy to talents. It was long before our splendid victory of Trafalgar, and the supplementary victory of Sir Richard Strachan, were known by the English prisoners at Verdun. At length a Morning Chronicle got amongst us, heaven knows how, and the joy our countrymen was extreme, nor was it expressed in terms very flattering to the French. This I rather regretted, for the better classes of that nation were, I thought, peculiarly delicate in communicating to us the victories of Napoleon. They always softened them to our feelings, by considering the Emperor at war with the English government, and not with the English nation. Whilst our exultation was at its zenith, I went to dine with the Count de I had determined to avoid the mention of Trafalgar, and of all belliferous or national topics. This was my invariable habit. How-insulting. ever, on entering the room, which was excessively crowded, particularly with ladies and military men of rank, I found a strong reaction against us. The countess, forgetting, I thought, her usual urbanity, said to me:— "Ah, Doctor , so Providence has given you English a great victory at sea!" I knew the whole value of her emphasis upon Providence. If the English gained a battle, it was the work of Providence, distinct from their merits; if the French obtained a splendid triumph, it was attributed to the genius of the Emperor, and to the native bravery of the French soldiers. Resolved that the lady should not make me the dupe of such egregious national vanity, and in the presence of so many who were enjoying the triumph, I coolly replied, that I was far from a sceptic as to the interference of Providence, but I could never mix up a Providence in the destruction, carnage, cruelties, and ferocious passions of a battle. "Madam," I added, mildly, "I must confess I could never form any idea of a fighting Providence, and least of all can I appreciate a Providence so inconsistent, not to say treacherous, as to fight on both sides; for whilst she gives us the victory at sea, she as invariably gives the triumph to Napoleon on shore. Trafalgar comes between Ulm and Austerlitz." "You must go to Bordeaux to-morrow-I have "Shall I not take leave of the family?" I was bowed out of the room and lighted to my The next morning, at six, I found an open carriage "You have been perplexed at the singularity of my "You need pay me nothing for your passage, since I was obliged to deceive you; and from London you may get a passage to Baltimore any day in the week." I became equally confidential, to his equal astonishment. In three days we had passed through the English Rochefort squadron and Channel fleet, and I went on board the Ville de Paris, where I had a long interview with the Admiral in Chief, the Earl St. Vincent. I had been but a few days in London, when I went to Reading on my friend's mission. I found his brother had died about six months before, partly of his numerous wounds, and partly of the melancholy of his sensitive temper, at his neglected, impoverished state. He had died in great distress. I had an opportunity of sending the seventy napoleons to their owner, by a gentleman going to Paris. However, to my great grief, in about three months I received from this traveller a bill of exchange for the same amount, with a letter, saying that my friend had been killed in a charge upon the Russian Cuirassiers at Friedland. Travelling for amusement in the south of France, in 1815, I repaired to Bordeaux, and visited the chateau of my friend's uncle, who was dead; but the widow, though extremely old, recognised me, and was bitterly afflicted with the recollections I occasioned of her nephew. Into her hands I put the seventy napoleons : and I remained two days under her roof, consoling her with merited eulogies of my generous friend-the Captain of Cuirassiers. MR. PRESCOTT AT HOME.-A recent traveller, who visited this eminent historian, remarks that everything in his abode reminds us of his occupation. In the hall there is a portrait of Cortez; Spanish princes, queens, and knights, meet our eye on the walls, and a rich historical library, containing the works of Spain and her possessions in the sixteenth century, with a large collection of manuscripts of the period, fills his study. Mr. Prescott was, by the natural weakness of his eyes, and perhaps likewise by the amiableness of his temper, prevented from taking an active part in politics, or from becoming a regular business man. He devoted his time to literature, and, starting from the Spanish conquest of Mexico and Peru, his researches led him to the history of the splendid reign of Ferdinand and Isabella. He is now occupied on that of Philip II. It is a gigantic task; for the history of Spain under that king is also the history of Protestantism in Germany -of independence in the Netherlands-of liberty in England-of the struggle between the power of the crown and the local institutions of France and Spain. A family relic in the dining-room of Mr. Prescott has a peculiar interest. Two swords crossing one another on the wall are those of the grandfather of Mr. Prescott and of the grandfather of his wife, both officers in the battle of Bunker Hill-the one in the American, the other in the English ranks. A OUR FASHION DEPARTMENT. Fashions for Children's Dresses. GREAT deal of taste, and no small amount of expense is now lavished upon the dresses of children. It requires great judgment not to make the pretty creatures miniature men and women, dressy and affected, instead of bright and bird-like creatures, to whom dress should only lend a second grace; as moss clings to the rose-bud, so plumage glows upon the bosom of a bird. When neatness and grace are studied, rather than expense, in the adornments of our little ladies, they cannot fail to be interesting, even at the awkward age which links the child with advancing girlhood-an age when nature really does seem, for a time, to abandon its own beautifying process. At this season of life, much dress but produces awkward affectations, and draws the beholder's attention to the unformed person, and the transition state which possesses neither childish grace nor womanly repose. among the little folks, and tiny shawl mantelets are THE EXHIBITION. PURSE-PROUD. Ir is one of the fashions of the day to cant about On frocks of muslin or colored serges, cambric the purse-proud aristocrat. Now, to our mind, a little tucks or flounces will be usually worn. The skirts pride, because you carry a well-filled purse, is not so have made a trifling increase in length, sweeping great a crime after all-nothing like so bad as the maclear of the fancy gaiters, and just revealing a glimpse lignant envy that scoffs at it. We have a fancy that of snowy little stockings, but not to the extent that if ever our own purse should become of a good swellwas fashionable some summers past. White bodices ing portliness, we should be exceedingly proud; that are also very pretty and very convenient, with deep we should carry it stiffly, wear portentiously creaking points at the waist, and colored skirts with under-vests shoes, look daggers at small urchins, and order John, of Swiss embroidery are worn under silk jackets, with the waiter, about in a loud voice. We believe that we full muslin sleeves gathered into a row of insertion at should do all this, it would be so exalting, inflating, the wrist. self-gratulating, a thought, this same millionaire's purse would! We run our hands down into our pocket and try to imagine the feeling. Alas! our purse is a ragged purse, a scantily filled, consumptive, degraded, mean-looking purse! How we would swell and puff pompously now, if it were only of a nice plumpness, big with the yellow god Mammon. But you couldn't fill it. It has a knack of running off faster than you can put in, leaving bills of credit to establish the balance. The fact is, reader, that all this is a bit of pleasantry-perhaps you didn't know it—a sort of an individualizement of our poverty. You see we haven't any purse at all, and (to use an Irishism) there is nothing in it. But, indeed, for our part, we ask not for lands nor commodities, mortgages nor stocks. We prefer to have no bug-bear of a tax-gatherer to frighten us out of our appetite. We desire to read a more entertaining part of the daily journal than the stock sales, and we wish our sleep not to be disturbed by visions of bulls and bears. No, all we ask for is the fairy's purse in the Irish legend, a little, delicate purse, with only a single eagle in it, but possessing the magic power of being supplied as fast as emptied. Oh! for an introduction to some good fairy who could thus endow us! WHATEVER may be said of the size of the Crystal Palace, for design and elaborate beauty of workmanship it is admitted to exceed its great English original. We have met English gentlemen who have acceded to this fact. The effect of the interior, even in the present disordered state of the articles, is absolutely But there is an age-anywhere from the long robe superb. The ornamental work and the decorative to six years, when the caprices of fashion may be ex-paintings are executed with the most exquisite taste cused, and on a pretty child cannot fail to be charm- and delicacy, and when all the works of art, the ing. The little creatures, in their unconscious grace gorgeous fabrics, &c., are displayed, the whole will and artlessness, give something of their own fresh present a picture that for rare beauty and magnificence beauty to any garment with which you may invest has never been equalled in this country. As an instance of the greater elaboration in the construction of this building than that of Hyde Park we will mention that in ornamental iron work the London Palace contained forty-nine different designs, while ours has over one hundred and twenty. them. It is fortunate that this is true of children just now; for there is no end to the ribbons, laces, flowers and flounces, with which it is the fashion to adorn them. Any kind of expensive fabric that a lady can wear, may be used for the groundwork of all this trimming. In statuary and other works of art the exhibition The latest children's dresses are made in the style will be especially rich. At this we sincerely rejoice. called à disposition. Flounces, to the number of three If there is anything in which our people need training or four, are bordered with a wreath of flowers, or some and development it is in the higher regions of art. other design, of a color different from that of the dress. Heretofore we have had no schools wherein such an Some of these dresses are figured as far as to the mid-education could be received. But this want is now dle of the jupe, with horizontal stripes, in graduated shades, of the same color of the dress. A dress, recently completed for a little girl, was of drab-color silk, and trimmed with flounces, the flounces ornamented with narrow bands of blue velvet ribbon. With this dress was worn a casaque of blue velvet, and a white straw bonnet trimmed with a blue-tinted feather. The under trimming was composed of a number of loops of mignonette ribbon, blue and white. supplied. In Reservoir square we shall have exhibited We have spoken heretofore of some of the works of statuary to be exhibited, and mentioned Baron Marochetti's colossal equestrian statue of Washington. This work alone will give fame and celebrity to the exhibiFor the plainer styles of juvenile costume there is tion. It stands directly in the centre beneath the no want of variety. Silk, poplin and alpaca of all dome, and is the first object that meets your eye upon kinds, besides batiste, muslin-de-laine, pique and jaco-entering the building. The effect is grand and awful. net, are all employed. The dresses are more or less The form of Washington in colossal proportions towers trimmed, and the trimming may be flounces, ribbon, above the scene, and seems to be its presiding spirit. large or small tucks, embroidery or soutache. Dresses As you approach and stand beneath it, the majesty of of coutil with little jackets of the same trimmed with the presence awes you, and you involuntarily lift your braid are well adapted for negligé. Mantelets of black hat in earnest and subdued admiration. Be at what silk take the place of those of bright-colored silk in point you will his solemn grand brow looks down upon plain costume; and in plain costume bonnets of straw you. We do not known what is to be the ultimate are generally worn. destination of this work, but we believe that at the close of the exhibition it will be offered to our citizens for purchase. We believe that by that time it shall have so grown into our affections we will not part with it upon any temptation. NEAR the Hippodrome a confectioner announces upon his sign, Hippodrome confectionery! which means Horse confectionery. DURING the last six months twenty-three steamers were launched from the different ship-yards of this city Hail storms in different parts of the country have done great damage to the crops. SIR ISAAC NEWTON AND VOLTAIRE ON RAILWAY TRAVELLING. Sir Isaac Newton wrote a work upon the prophet Daniel, and another upon the book of Revelation, in one of which he said that in order to fulfil certain prophecies before a certain date was terminat ed, namely, 1200 years, there would be a mode of travelling of which the men of his time had no conception; nay, that the knowledge of mankind would be so increased, that they would be able to travel at the rate of fifty miles an hour. Voltaire, who did not believe in the inspiration of the Scriptures, got hold of this, and said: "Now look at that mighty mind of Newton, who discovered gravity, and told us such marvels for us all to admire. When he became an old man, and got into his dotage, he began to study that book called the Bible; and it seems that in order to HAIL of the most unprecedented size recently fell in credit its fabulous nonsense, we must believe that the our city. Many pieces were picked up larger than a knowledge of mankind will be so increased that we hen's egg. They were of very irregular structure, ex-shall be able to travel at the rate of fifty miles an hour. ceedingly sharp, and of a much greater hardness than ordinary ice. Large Leghorn flats are much in favor this warm weather, from the graceful protection they yield from the sun. Broad ribbons of white, blue, or pink, embroidered in colors down the centre, and flowing behind or on the side in long fringed ends, are an exceedingly beautiful trimming. Some have the crown surrounded by a straw cord, terminating at the side in Others are garlanded with simple wreaths of flowers. Bonnets of taffeta are also used, and with them, simple ruches form a pretty trimming. Pink, white, or blue silk are the favorite colors for the dress toilet of a little girl. Paletots are worn, trimmed with In the Royal Academy of London there is exhibitrich ruches of ribbon. Small Talmas are in favoring the portrait of an oak the size of life. wheat ears. The poor dotard!" exclaimed the philosophic infidel Voltaire, in the self-complacency of his pity. But who is the dotard now?-Rev. J. Craig. LEISURE for study, thought, and social enjoyment are to be counted as part of one's income. ROUGH BUT HONEST. RICH honesty may dwell, like a miser, in a poorhouse, or like your pearl, in a foul oyster. It may be worn as your toad wears a jewel, in its ugly head. But if the diamond be the more brilliant in a fine setting, then honesty is brighter when enthroned among graceful virtues. It is a very common fallacy that roughness and honesty are naturally twinned. The two terms are coupled so universally as to induce the belief that they are inseparable. And there are those who go about cultivating a vigorous roughness and burliness, and thereby claiming much praise for a corresponding degree of honesty. Says the poet, he who has spoken so wisely and so well upon almost every subject: "This is some fellow, Who, having been praised for bluntness, doth affect Ir is pleasant to walk through our public grounds and look upon children at play. We love, idly sometimes, to loiter about, a spectator of their gay sports, and to listen to their outbursts of laughter, which seems like merriment set to music. And then their pliant forms, so graceful in a thousand ways, the buoyant strength in their young limbs, their cheeks flushed with the pure blood, that runs goldenly through their veins, are all glad things to look upon. Reader, you love to read a fine poem, to hear eloquent music, or to look upon Nature in her Spring gladness and freshness, then come with us to Washington or Union Square, and you shall see and feel all: for childhood assimilates to these three things. It is a study a worldly man might wisely pursue. ONE important statement was made in the recent Report by the Committee to the Legislature on the subject of our city Parks. Evidence was advanced to show that forests, when thinned out for ornamental purposes, do not prosper. When trees cluster together they grow tall and straight, their limbs do not branch out, and their roots run along the surface of the ground. If part of their fellows are removed, and their long shaded trunks be freely exposed to the sun, they wither, lose their vigor, and do not put out spreading branches, as is usually supposed. Ornamental grounds, laid out and planted by the side of hardy In all our experience, we have found a finer sense of honesty and truthfulness in those of polish and refinement than with any other class. Honesty being a virtue having many shades of meaning, and which, in its highest sense, is a lofty and delicate perception of forests that have been thinned out, have, in all experitruthfulness and sincerity, must naturally be more keenly developed in a cultivated than a coarse mind.ments, in thirty or forty years, far outgrown them in It is fostered by other virtues, and is pre-eminent amid the true graces of the gentleman. We wish we could hear no more defences of roughness and boldness. Gentleness of manner is so excellent a thing it should be proverbial everywhere. The society of one who combines courtesy with intelligence, wide reading and general knowledge with polish and delicacy of manners, is delightful, and such a one confers pleasure and happiness wherever he moves. Nor does such cultivation deprive us of manly strength. The symmetrical column is not less strong because it is graceful; the block of granite is as useful and firm beneath the chisel as in all its native ruggedness. beauty and proportions. If this be true, it removes QUITE a distinguished locality is growing up in the neighborhood of the old Opera House. The Bible Society have erected a very spacious structure, which affords not only accommodations for themselves, but for the Society Library, and numerous Missionary and Benevolent Societies. Directly opposite, is erecting the building for the Cooper Union, a benevolent and The Home Journal very eloquently complains of the desecrations by which Niagara is disgraced, and compares the American with the Canadian shore, unfavorably to the former. It says, that all along the American shore are objects "offensively out of harmony with preconceived notions of Niagara," such as immense collections of logs, boards, planks, sawdust, etc. The clatter of two or three saw-mills mingles THE foundations of the new Opera House are now with the roar from the cataract. Many factories are progressing rapidly, and it is promised that the buildalso projected, and, ere long, America's greatest won-ing will be ready this coming autumn. The situation der, Nature's shrine, to which pilgrims from all quaris on Fourteenth street, near Fourth Avenue. The ters of the globe daily tend, will be but little more than structure will be novel in design and exceedingly a mill-stream-highly useful and profitable, no doubt. The Home Journal concludes its article by appealing to our State Legislature to purchase the shore for the use of the State, and thus preserve Niargara in all its sublimity. beautiful. PEACE OF MIND.-Though peace of mind does not constitute happiness, happiness cannot exist without it, our serenity being the result of our own exertions, while our happiness is dependent on others: hence the reason why it is so rare; for on how few can we Our wisdom, therefore, is best shown in cultivating all that leads to the preservation of this negative blessing, which, while we possess it, will prevent us from ever becoming wholly wretched. count! When a gentleman loses his temper in talking, it is a tolerably correct sign that he is getting "the worst of the argument." Contributed to the New York Journal. OUR DREAMS OF YOUTH. Making the world seem bright and full of joy But soon the hours will bring bright Phœbus round, So fade our dreams of youth; thus one by one, Its pains and sorrows; so the calm cool night THE INDIAN LOVER'S SONG. All is hush'd in soft repose, Stars are glittering in the sky, "Blest abodes of light and gladness;" Oh, my life! that thou and I Might quit for them this world of sadness. Brightly through the darkness shining, MY AUNT. My aunt has many queer notions, My aunt has got to her spectacles, Though without them she sees well enough And thinks your poetry stuff. But there she agrees with me. She dreams she can tell the mark that is left And of all her antic theories I am sure not to meddle with this. On the viewless heart, not the visible lip, THR POWER OF A SMILE. |