Harper's Weekly 1858-04-03: Vol 2 Iss 66

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Vout. Il.—No. CONTENTS. I. How we rvrxisuep ove Hovsr, wirna ILLUSTRATION AN Il. Eprroriate. Ill. Tar Louner: IV. Bowemitan Wake axp TALKS V. Pomery's Porroserny, wire seven rive In- LUSTRATIONS. VI. Tue Eant or Denny, wrrn a Porrnarr VIL. Lererary. VIII. Domestito Iwre.iicrnce. IX. Fourten News. X. Scenes aT THE TAKING OF CANTON, WITH TWO SPLENDID ILLUSTRATIONS XI. Treasures or Tnovent. XII. Hetew Fron. XIIL. Aw oup Srory. XIV. Miscoriiary. XV. Tue Cagwrvan ix Prepwowr, wire A rrvt IL- LUSTRATION. XVI. Tae ovurerr Juper. XVII. Turses Wise axp OTvERWwisE XVIIL Marker anwp Frxanciat Reports. XIX. Comica.rrizs, HOW WE FURNISHED OUR HOUSE. For my part I had long ago made up my mind that I would move no more, save into a house of my own. I believe, as I am an honest man, that during the two years of our marriage we had in- habited successively every street in the city, from Bleecker to Forty-fifth ; and had never known what it was to remain a month together in the same lace. So, as I said, I was tired of so roving a lite and when Carrie proposed, in a meek, timid voice, as though she was dreadfully afraid of shock- ing my feelings, that we should go to housekeeping, I seized the dear girl in my arms, and kissed her till, as she declared, her collar was quite spoiled. It was no matter of extraordinary difficulty to | find a house. Thanks to the revulsion !—the iil wind that, like other ill winds, blew some good to some few fortunates—we were enabled to find a small house suited to our means in a convenient situation. A bargain was soon struck, and we entered into possession of our empty house. We AN AUCTION OF | NEW YOR K, SATURDAY, APRIL 3, L&58. felt so proud—Carrie and I—in the house that was ali our own, that for the first week we spent all our spare time in pacing up and down the great, empty, dusty rooms, and peopling them with im- aginary pieces of the most costly furniture. We quarreled vociferously over the furnishing of the drawing-room (remember I had only some $1200 in all to spend on my furniture); Carrie insisting that a tapestry Brussels with yellow brocatelle suit would do very well, while I was immovably fixed in my preference for blue damask, ormolu, and a carpet with a single gigantic pattern. She preferred pier-glasses ; I thought oil-paintings, ex- clusiyely by the firet native artists (did we not owe it to ourselves to patronize art?) were far bet- ter adapted to the adornment of the walls. The first time I think I ever made Carrie cry was when I insisted on the furniture of our spare bedroom being rose-wood instead of a “ and gold. However, after a few days of this castle-build- ing, we were forced to betake ourselves at last to the serious business of filling our house with some- thing more substantial than the sumptuous furni- ture over which we had quarreled ; and thistime, I flatter myself, we went about the business in a me- thodical way. We had so much money ; therefore if we spent so much on the parlors, so much on the bedrooms, so much on the kitchen, so much on the dining-room, and so much on the stairs, there would be left— Well, there wouldn't be much, though our estimates had been made with the most severe frugality. But, as Carrie remarked, by going to auctions we could buy every thing for a mere song; and taking up the Herald, she read me an advertise- ment to the effect that that day, at the hour of ten in the forenoon, D. Humbug, the well-known auc- tioneer, would sell the entire furniture of a wealthy family going to Europe ; said furniture consisting of “ fine tapestry carpets, three-ply and ingrain dit- to ; rose-wood parlor suits in brocatelle ; oak buffet ; oak extension tables, chairs, etc., in suit ; rose-wood bureaus, rose-wood and mahogany centre, pier, and fancy tables; roge-wood and mahogany secretary and library book-cases; French plate pier and oval mirrors ; & superior line of fine oil-paintings in rich cottage set,” green SPLENDID HOUSEHOLD FURNITURE, TO BE SOLD WITHOUT RE gilt frames; mahogany and rose-wood bedsteads ; spring and hair mattresses ; beds and bedding ; gas chandeliers and fixtures ; together with a large as- sortment of new furniture, cutlery, crockery, plated and silver ware ; the whole to be peremptorily sold without reserve, and worthy the attention of house- keepers and the trade.” This was evidently the thing we wanted; so we hastened to the address, and found ourselves in as motley a crowd as I had seen for a long time There were a number of old women, among whom we recognized several editions of Mrs. Toodles ; one or two young couples like ourselves, bent se- riously on house-furnishing ; grained looking men, who scowled fiercely at the furniture, as though they wanted to know what business it had there, and whether they couldn't afford to buy it twice over if they wanted; a Jew or two gazing with appreciative eyes at the silver- plate ; two or three Irishmen, laden with furniture and plates, which they contrived very cleverly to break at regular intervals, and quite a number of persons who, to my eyes, seemed confirmed mem- bers of the *‘ fanc y “” The first article which was put up to sale was a lot of broken wine-glasses. Thes enough, my wife said, to one of the Then followed a Brussels carpet. me as if to say, it was put up, I bid, boldly, a yard, I was in a mortal agony for some time afterward for fear it should be knocked down to me; of the cross-grained men, after staring at Carrie and me, bid sixpence more, and, in spite of Carrie's appeals, I let him have it. It was knocked down to him; I discovered afterward that it was full of holes. a number of cross- wer Mrs. Tox nudged So, irri ** Here is our chanc« when five shillings but one A clock, a fine French clock, was the next arti- | of oxydation. I we cle offered. Would any gentleman start it at twen- ty dollars? No gentleman volunteering, the auc- tioneer magnanimously announced that he would take fifteen, or even ten. These offers eliciting no response, the clock was at last put up at a dollar. Carrie asked me how I thought it would look on our chimney-piece, and, jumping at the thought, I nodded. “ Two dollars !"’ shoute. Tumbuag | | | | | | [Price Five Cents. Four!” cried another of the cross-grained indi viduals, Five!” said I, in the excitement of the mo ment Six !"’ sh ted my opponent ‘It's perfectly lovely,” whispered Carrie in my ear; and, yiel th j I nodded again Seven dollars ! roaked the auctioneer: “ an article which cost the manufacturer tw ive who'll say ten ? No one said ten: but Mr«. 7 il } n\ de squ uked °S en half tl tioneer watching my face, received, or pretended t ceive, a bid from the crowd, then t to m said, “‘Say ten, and it's ' | t "tes mechanically, and down fell the ham I confess I felt relieved The ji w br ken. I had begun to furnish my } So I had no backwardness in bidding for ll, round table, with a stain on the t law i of some gravity in its single leg; or for several extremely nice-looking chairs, on whi we were n llowed to sit: or for a quantity f porcelain 28 Hum bug called it, real Sevres chi or f un more articles besides I made some purchas | thought a great al of them at the tis more perhaps, than I do now I bought four bucke (Carrie said that buckets were quite 1 ryina house, and cailed me “ disgusting,” with a pretty blush, when I asked what would she do with fou : th | the misfortune te need constant caulking I bought a bedstead, but as it couldn't be taken to piece and the door was teo small to let it out whole, I gave Humbug a doilar to let me off that bargain. I bought a set of fire-irons—*‘' quite love- ly,” Carrie said; they were in an advanced stage ild have bought more articles but that niy attention was attracted to the conduct of one or two of the ere rained men They me a dead-set at me, and bid on every thing 1 want ed. The man who had opposed me on the clock seemed to want also buckets, beds, fir rons ; ery—every thing, in short, which we required Perhaps he’s furnishing dear,” suggested Carrie He didn’t look like i He made his bids as oft ERVE.

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{ } H 1 ae 210 HARPER'S

CY WEEKLY. [Apri 3, 1858,

en by signs as by words, looking viciously at me and at the furniture, After the auction, I over- heard Humbug order him to “go and gather up them glasses, and be smart aboat it.” From which I was led to suspect collusion between them. We collected our purchoses-—a singular assort- ment to be sure (but as Carrie said, every thing must have a beginning)—had them carted to our n house, and rested from our labors. We put lock on the chimney-piece (by the way, I ought ive suid that it didn’t go, and didn’t seem ever ve goue for that matter, for I couldn't find the down on two of the buckets—which an- red well enou.h for seats, however unsatisfac- v $s), sat tory they may have been as buckets—and came to n that a few iys more of such work would enable us to furnish our house very neatly and economically. Carrie wouldn't hear of any imputations upon Hambug or my rival bidder. Next day, before I was up, Carrie had found, s she said, the “ ve ’ for us to go and buy the rest of our furniture. It was an auction sale, in 23d Street, of the ‘entire furniture of a wealthy family about to retire to the country :” a delicate hint in the advertisement intimated that the re- tirement of the familw aforesaid had been rendered the conclusion

necessary by the late revuision, and that every thing would consequently be sold ‘‘ without re- serve.’ I was strack on entering the house with the air of newness which distinguished the whole array of furnitur Carpets, chairs, tables, etagéres, sofas, beds, bureaux—nothing appeared to have been in use be

‘No doubt, dear,” said Carrie, when I drew her attention to the fact, “the family were very care- ful of their furniture It is a lesson to me.”’ Strange to say, with few exceptions, the auc- tioneer was surrounded by the very persons whom

we had met the day before. The cross-grained men were there in great force; and the very first hing that was sold was knocked down to my yes- terday’s rival on the clock question. One of the party, who was evidentiy in the confidence of the auctioneer, bought, at the start of the auction and at very high prices, three drawing-room sets and two splendid etagéres ; though, as Carrie remark- ed, what a great, coarse, vulgar-looking fellow like that could do with brocatelle suits it was hard to discover. I found myself bidding on a bedstead which struck us as very convenient. It was just about being knocked down to me when the thought flash- ed on Carrie’s mind—W iil it come to pieces? I asked an Irishinan, who appeared to be assist- ing the auctioneer, to unscrew one of the sides. He made the attempt honestly, but failed. I then noticed, te my horror, that it was the same bed- which | had bought the day before in the ily going to Europe. I took the pre- caution of marking a few of the conspicuous pieces of furniture without telling Carrie; and, having bought a set of kitchen ware, four stools, a chiff- onniere, and a dust-pan, we returned to our home. On the following day, the sale we attended was

yas Gawhing on m\ mind one of the ‘‘ furniture of a leading citizen lately de- ceased.” Ata glance ! noticed that the company were the same as on the previous days, and a brief tour of inspection enabled me to say positively that the chief articles of furniture were the same as those which I had already seen sold twice. In passing the auctioneer’s desk my eye fell on a narrow slip of paper. I blush to say I read it. It ran thus: * Received fr

ived m Peter Funk, Eeq., auctioneer, forty dollars for three days’ rent of the house No. — —— Street, for his farniture auction rhe house was rented; the furniture contributed verel furniture makers of the neighborhood ; wealthy families” and “ leading citizens” were creatures of imagination. Carrie desires me to add that the moral of my ® is that young people who want to furnish o to a respectable furniture dealer, and not seek great bargains at auction sales, especially when they are advertised as being sales of the household furniture of rich families going to Europe.

HARPER’S WEEKLY. Saturpay, Apri 3, 1858. AMERICAN CREDIT ABROAD. GERMAN paper, published at Augsburg, 4% has contained an article intimating that we go to Europe to borrow money which we do not mean to pay, and that we are, in short, a nation of swindlers. Papers in this city, of course without motive, have republished the article without comment.

The fact is, that, in the general crash of the last year, ne nation did so well by its creditors as the United States. With remarkably few exceptions, every bond and every coupon due in this country was paid at maturity. At a time when merchants in London, Hamburg, Berlin, and Frankfort, could not raise money to pay their notes, the interest on our State, county, ty, railway, and other corporate securities was promptly and fally met. It would, of course, be possible to enumerate several securities on i has been a default. But these have d among our first-class securities. r of default was duly taken into >» purchaser when he bought them, and discounted in the price he paid. When a man buys a seven or eight per cent, bond at fifty, he hi business te complain if st is not paid. Money is not worth fourteen or sixteen per cent. in this

no now and then the interé meridian ; and when a man tries to get such a rate of interest he must run a certain risk.

The bonds on whi¢lf defaults have occurred within the past few months have invariably been sold in the market at so low a price that the purchasef!could afford to be cheated of his interest one otit of every two years, and yet find the investment satisfactory. For such a pur- chaser to rail at this country because he does not get ‘‘ the face of his bond” is absurd, Ca- veat emptor. Whatever newspaper men may say the Unit- ed States must, eventually, become the Bankers of the world. We can profitably use money for which we pay seven and eight per cent., and can give ample security for its repayment. Nor is there any prospect that we shall cease to enjoy such opportunities of employing capital within the next half century. Until this con- tinerit is-fully peopled, it will always pay us to borrow capital at seven to ten per cent., and we shall be able to pay back, after a certain inter- val, principal and interest. In Europe, four and five are high rates of in- terest. Many large fortunes are wholly invest- ed at three and three and a half. As the in- tercourse between this country and Europe in- creases, our superior capacity for employing capital will become generally known; when it is, no European will invest his money at home. They will all buy into our securities or lend money out here: for, by thus doing, that large class of Europeans who live on the inter- est of their money will find their income doub- led. And sensible men, who do not try to get exorbitant rates of interest, will never have reason to complain of our want of faith. The state of commercial affairs at present— declining imports—steady exports—exchange on London at two per cent. discount—constant and steady accumulation of specie in our banks —gradually developing industry and increased production—all this points to the state of things which the young among us are destined to see, namely, the establishment of the United States as the financial centre of the world, and the banker for the trade of England, France, Ger- many, South America, Russia, China, and the East Indies. THE CONDITION OF MEXICO. Ovr latest advices from the Mexican States describe the Zuloaga Administration as being on the point of dissolution, and the whole fabric of government as verging upon ruin. Every traveler who ventured ten miles from a large city was certain to be robbed; not a few had lost their lives in vain endeavors to protect their prop- erty. Business of every kind was at a stand- still; many of the mines, situate, unhappily, in disturbed districts, had been almost abandoned ; the import trade, the duties upon which have served as security for so many loans, was almost annihilated. Every citizen who had any thing to lese was trying, not to employ, but to hide his means; money was more frequently buried in a garden than lent out upon interest. Nor did there seem to be any decent prospect of a better state of things. The clergy, finding that they might as well submit to compulsory spoli- ation as sustain the Zuloaga Government at their expense, were hanging back and resuming an attitude of neutrality in the pending civil war. No prominent resident citizen presumed to aspire to the rank of Dictator. From his retirement, the ancient reprobate, Santa Anna, was hankering after the power he had lost; but neither the Mexicans nor any one else had suf- ficient faith in him to warrant the supposition that he was likely to succeed again. There was a vague rumor that the Spaniards were about to make a movement with a view to the recovery of the debt which Mexico owes them; but no overt measures had been taken, and the general impression was, that common sense had not en- tirely departed from the Spanish peninsula, and consequently that the Spanish threats would never be executed. Strange to say, in all these revolutionary proceedings we never hear a word of the action of the United States Government, or even of the influence of the representative of this country. We hear of English influence, of French sug- gestions, of Spanish threats; but the United States might as well be an Asiatic power for any control they exercise over Mexican politics. The Mexicans have now had nearly forty years’ experience of self-government. During that period they have essayed at least three dis- tinct and antagonistic forms of government. They have never allowed any system to reach its natural term; the career of each and every Government since Iturbide has been alternately prolonged by lawless usurpation or cut short by revolution. If experiences teaches any thing, it is that the Mexicans can prosper neither un- der an empire, nor under a dictatorship, nor as a republic. The only experiment which remains to be tried is a foreign protectorate. The Papal States would not have been a safe residence for any man of means, for many years past, but for the tacit protectorate exercised by France; Mexico is in the same condition. The time has not yet come for the incorpora- tion of Mexico with the States of this Union. But events call for preparatory steps toward that consummation. Mexican anarchy does us

republican institutions. It sets an unwhole- some examplé to our southern frontier, It in- jures owt miiterial interests by closing to us the shortest available road to our California posses- sions. For out owmsakes vigorous steps should be taken to terminate the existing confusion in Mexico. What those steps should be it were difficult to say ; but if Axprew Jackson were President of the United States he would very soon discover good grounds for the inauguration of a policy which would culminate in the estab- lishment of stable government in Mexico and the development of the boundless resources of that magnificent country. THE CANAL QUESTION IN THIS STATE. Norwirnstanpinc the assurances, which were given at the time the last canal loan was sanctioned by the people, to the effect that no more money would be needed for the comple- tion of those great lines of internal communica- tion, it now appears that, unless a further sum of five millions of dollars be granted to complete the work of enlargement, the enormous amounts which have been expended during the past few years will prove to have been thrown away, and the design of the enlarged canal system will be defeated. Of course, however we may grumble at the additional outlay, there is but one opinion among all far-seeing men as to the expediency of completing the canals on the enlarged se ule. The work has progressed so far, the advantage of the enlarged canals is so obvious, and the necessity of retaining within our borders the traffic which our neighbors are straining every nerve to wrest from us is so palpable, that no person of any character or standing takes the ground that we ought to abandon the work, and leave the canals in their unfinished state. How- ever the money must be raised, and under what- ever restrictions it may be spent, all parties are agreed upon the propriety of raising and spend- ing it on the canal enlargement. Whensoever the question shall have received deliberate attention at the hands of our politi- cians and the public, there will be as decided a majority in favor of raising the amount by tax as there is now in favor of completing the en- largement, Other financial schemes have been suggested. <A few persons have pr posed to cripple the State, and to build up Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Montreal at our expense, by lay- ing additional tolls on the freight carried over the railroads of this State. This foolish scheme has met with no more favor than it deserved; and other projects for taxing banks and making a foray upon unclaimed deposits in savings in- stitutions have been equally scouted. The sense of the Legislature and that of the mass of sensi- ble persons throughout the State are in favor of the completion of the canals by means of an or- dinary State tax, to be submitted to the people next fall. This, doubtless, will be the plan adopted. But when the law to that effect has passed, it may well be a subject of inquiry how long the canals are to be a senseless burden to the State, and a source of perennial corruption at Albany? No one denies that the canal funds are used notoriously by each successive dominant party for corrupt political purposes. Had the canal revenues and the sums which have been raised by loan been honestly and economically applied, no further loan would now have been required. In view of the injurious effects of this corruption, and of the constant appeals to the people for means to enlarge, continue, or repair the canals, many persons are inquiring whether the time has not come for the disposal of the canals to a private company. The States of Indiana, Illinois, Michigan, and Pennsylva- nia have all found it unprofitable and unsatis- factory to own public works. Can we expect to be an exception? Would it not be better to close the avenue to further expenditures and more corruption by taking measures for the sale of the canals as soon as possible ? 5A 0Ule I 1 rials LoUN salitaiiapeanetliighiliiin ON WITH THE DANCE! Mvsarp, dear to Terpsichore—Musard, with his saltatory fiddle, is at hand. Demersmann, the flutist, whose name is, of course, a household word; Hubans, the hautboy- ist, or the hautboyer, or however the boy hauts, of equally extended fame, are only waiting for Lent to be over to blow us all out upon the floor, and round and round in the dizzy waltz. Now if Mr. Musard has a Prima Jonna waltz of any kind which he can send all over the coun- try, until pianos, bands, hand-organs, and even church choirs conspire to swell the lofty strain, he may be very sure of success. If not, he must see what masked balls can do. If the Lounger were a raven he would croak that they could not be very successful. In Paris they are so, because they are the saturnalia of the demi- monde. In Rome they are so, because the Italians are an intriguing and festive people, and because every mask is an absolute concealment. But how will our dear New York manage it? The nobility will sit in the boxes and look en, as they do at charity and military balls. The com- G S.sh. & positive injury. It damages the prestige of | monalty will put on false noses, wigs, black visors,

and slashed cloaks. Some will perhaps try t. drain courage from the bottle, and come on tipsy. But where will be the delicious daring, the w ij.! recklesstiess of revel, the wit, the humor, the x1- mosphere of Carnival, the mystery, the romance. of Paris and Rome ! If the Lounger were a prophetic eynic, he won say that a masked ball at the Academy would as like a genuine masquerade as the reception o/ Mohammed Pacha was like a real civic ovation. But he hails the advent of Musard, and the be- ginning of promenade concerts, and whatever j cheerful and musical. He wonders whether My- sard wears an expansive waistcoat—whether he has jetty ringlets curling about an aquiline nose— whether he pats the charmed air with outstretched fingers—and4 sinks, at last, exhausted, in negligent but effective grace, in a capacious arsfi-chair. Thus he wonders of Musard, bat eeho answers, Julienne ! —_— THE REVIVAL. Nor even a Lounger can help seeing the uni- versal interest in the great religious movement of the moment. When, at high noon, in the densest business parts of the city, swarms of men are hur- rying in various directions, and an obser~er learns that they are not going to the bank, and that they are not in all this hurry to save their credit but their souls; and when, for the first time in his ex-

perience, he sees that in a Christian community the Christian churches are not closed for six days in seven, but are open; that they are not attend- ed by a few decorous listeners upon one day, but thronged with multitudes of eager and excited peo- ple several times every day, he will naturally do as this Lounger did, follow thy crowd and observe the scene. It was to Burton's old theatre that the Loungei went, on the day when Mr. Beecher was to lead the services. The crowd standing at the doors in the street showed him that he had little chance of getting inside of the building. In fact there was not room for another person. People were packed in the vestibule, and hung over the tops of doors, and strained their heads from the stair-cases, and stood patiently where they could neither see nor hear, in the hope that somebody would presentiy be driven out by the heat and open the way for a hundred people to fill the space in which one was squeezed. ‘There was a constant restlessness on the rim of the crowd. Our fellow-citizens who could only put their noses over the shoulders of those who stood upon the sidewalk, naturally grew wea- ry of that position, and withdrew. But every body within the doors seemed to be waiting and listen- ing. Suddenly a rich, full sound of singing poured out from the interior of the building. The great audience were singing a hymn to one of the well- known old tunes. Over the heads of the crowds about the inner doors the dimness of the interior was visible ; figures were discernible, bat very in- distinctly. They were all turned one way, and seemed to be joining in the singing. It rang out boldly and cheerfully into the sunshine, and died away. The sound of a clear, earnest voice follow- ed. It was impossible to recognize the voice or distinguish the words. But here was the old the- atre turned into a church, and men and women were praying and singing hymns. Following the current of the crowd, the Lounger crossed the Park to the Fulton Street meeting. There were the same crowds and the same exercises. The sounds of prayer and exhortation and singing were all mingled, and people were constantly pouring up and down the stairs. In one room a clerk was praying; in another an old sailor was exhorting ; in another the whole company were singing. In the street the shops were open, the drays and wagons passing, the busy crowds streaming along the sidewalks ; truckmen were swearing, boys shouting, and the envelope-man closing over all with his mighty refrain of “ F-o-v-rre C-E-N-T-s.” It was a soft spring day, and it was a pleasant thing to see the great church doors open and the iron gates turned back, so that, even in William Street, a bold boy might have sat upon the grass. Will the city be better for all this? is the ques- tion every man asks himself. Will the spirit of Christianity more abouid in William and Wall streets, in Nassau and Maiden Lane? There is always, of course, a certain amount of hysteria in the public mind, which is developed by this as by every other strong excitement. Superstition is always the aspect of popular ignorance; but no candid man can believe that this revival is only a morbid enthusiasm. Admitting every thing that is questionable about it, there remains the un- doubted fact, confirmed by experience, that men and women are really made better. If such a meeting as that at Burton’s can touch an erring woman as the writer of the following letter was touched, who shall smile or sneer at the Revival ? The letter was read at the theatre on Wednesday. “I am one of those who have not a father or mother no Christian friends. Hated and despised by my own sex, I have felt abandoned. I am yet in a hopeless con- dition in life; but I have prayed that he who conversed with the woman of Samaria may reveal himself to my soul. Will you present my case to our Father who art in heaven, when you pray? And when you pray for me remember all abandoned young women, made ro by the heartlessness of unprincipled men, and kept so by the pitiless prejudice of our own sex. Martua.” A WORD FOR WOMEN. Tne letter of ‘‘ Martha” reminds us of other wo- men, and that the great financial crash trembled, in its consequences, to every quarter of society— however unheeded and remote. A man who has made a million may make a million, and when his riches take their natural wings we wonder only how soon he will catch more. But when a woman who gets twenty-five cents a day for making shirts suddenly finds there are no more shirts to be made because people who wear a fresh linen bosom every day must economize, a dreadful alternative is open- ed before her. Mr, Mayhew, in his work upon the

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Aprit 3, 1858. ]

_ HARPER'S WEEKLY.

poor of London, which is more exciting than Eu- | that time, did not imagine the refractory and | valuable and learned treatises upon the subject gene Sue’s ‘‘ Mysteries of Paris,” mentions poor nee- | brawny monk of Wittenberg was to overt r a ee ee and whose s ts dlewomen whose wages, even wher they had work, men in his age, and lead = ty Ev in ine os ass om eps es Dr Ro mag hey i she now adds an- ] the Bourbons were not enough to save them from starvation, and But, for all that, we have a richt to a : othe 3 , I her in Jr. Barclay's * City of the Great King kt Mus who were forced to choose between their children's Is it the inventor of the electric te le mae . I - a oak seed m ow wow age rae ore . tuations, | ! ed death and their own dishonor. Hood's “Song of {| it Louis Napoleon? Is it Dicke aoe aa : ‘ ‘ - ts oy a he - ,- e traveler, and a body of res} uble pe e é the Shirt” and * Bridge of Sighs” —the two most | erated Chief Magistrate? Is it Humboldt ~" it | n ae = pagencs se Doctor — a , t the } ft passionate cries for human misery in literature ~ | be he who has seen most and knows m ah - a ; \ ‘er t ¢ man enjoyed peculia: i le, h v that are parts of the dreadful story of the life and the various departments of human knowledge, m ’ 7 peg geen apelin —— a _— Btls r ruled t é I death of needlewomen. Now comes the sewing- | not be the latter? If it be he who has the ae ae wile with maps, plans, and | and his } was f machine, taking from those who had not even that | affluent and universally-recognized ‘ pane nin Sap : oe Prince M : . whi h they had, and the conditi n of these p Or WO- ius, must it not be Dickens ? If i ‘ : : , r st men every where is most pitiable. made the most astonishing addition to the m 1 ; ang | . ; A series of lectures is to be delivered in the city | ical forces of the world, must it not be M | sat or pasate Fall and = luring the month of April, in which the whole sub- | the most successfully audacious and the m " : . : : ject of women, in their social, industrial, and legal | spicuous potentate, ie it wet Louies Wendt > | D . ound. i t anty r i relations, will be considered. The tongues of the | it be the President of the United St it must i ] forms that his 4 dan es 7 Heh speakers are to be free to say just what they think | not be our venerated Chief Magistrate ? amusemen i oh . : ' x if upon this profoundly important theme. There is | We are inclined to think that Humboldt wo tertai : aati v | bli interest and sympathy in the question it- | of European savants. Ten years ago the Lounger | ¢ A. hat a singular fancy that of pl g only at | ; n | y that 8 ste cc self, saw him walking in the great funeral procession _ ~— ee eee of ving | Vienna that S la : seen tf : ‘e : a ue of ‘‘ the dead of the eighteenth of March,” in Ber- - a p> oe oS mass | — Salter i f a f] gg & . ART CONVENTION. lin. He was never a politician, nor an actor in ro se last farewell, and din . ay iy, althoug! : . ae Sour of our artists have lately met in conyen- | Public affairs, except to be one of the Privy Coun- = : ; ee ee | one eee f th net ne " tion at Washington. The moment selected — that cil of the King of Prussia; but he was understood = or come ether pest uae es he its of the le Gott wl wf of the very crisis of the Kansas debate—was not a to sympathize with the popular feeling, not always a “ , al ~ ae vo ‘ stor his health ri . _ very promising one, but it was, doubtless, unavoid- with the popular movement His plate was al- h Me Pati “ws * Mt ta, Pe Indies.” Poor G 5 N nal ' able. Old Mr. Peale was elected president. He | Ways placed at the King’s table. In the country | jj) poenmeee Seve» Satay” a hy stead. The a ' feal } , lelivered his lecture upon Washington's portraits, palace of Potsdam, at Sans Souci, there was the : fe — ‘ —- : about Salter I} exa . } il Dr. Bellows an address, before the Convention. chamber of Humboldt, and Germany honors him M I ] he | af AI I i ' f R port states that there was a crowded and fash- with a kind of roy al reverence. He is often ill and | meng agg . 5 . we peo} uity of « iti s¥ erf fy ionable audience, and, considering the time and the | 5¢Veré ly, although but for a short time. it can not ‘ ow eee me hao rok sSalterr H : ~~ ; Wee - ve — * | matic genius. But how very foolis he Li . . | place, more interest was manifested by the public be long before we shall have news of the death of arr . : ano, Salte : No ma , . he than could have been anticipated. 1 great and good man; and it is, therefore, with the pa ne oe ee 7 key-board than 5 f on! . rhe object of the Convention seems to have been | 6Teatest interest that the last letter he will proba- ¥ . ; ail it BM, = o hat . econ ee , more it would be of , si to take measures in some way to cultivate unanim- | bly ever write to this country will be read. It he a call it Mr. Burton's farewell appeara prior ity of action and an effective esprit du corps among | ¥5 addressed to the President of the American - is ay pone - et ow eee evening rHE si ; NNET the artists of the country from which might pro- Institute, whom Humboldt supposed to be Judge : _ 4 on ~ ae boldly ass — — Resricus arrive town | week. { ceed a commanding influence upon the quality of Talmadge. The translation does not app ~~ “4b ven if it were not stated upon the bili | interior of Hamilton eae. whem ' , " , . 1 . - - appear ¢ Will our excellent young M. Juil F = the works of art commissioned by the Government very happy, although it may be very literal—but } turn? If } = i traps ae ce re- | eton skirts, defaultin unkers, and « : In other words, as the manufacturers of the coun- | “ow genial and pleasant the letter is! A elt e ye: ~- + em — shoule be « : politan luxuries have not hitherto penetrated try want to spin the cotton, so the painters wan* “ Banutw, February %5, 1958. | one gee | — a oe ” be sent from the | tious had to make a few small purchases. a to paint the pictures for the country. To accom- “Ma Presipent,—Through the kindness of his Ex- | we, might be not be p ae to tarry just « ree, he went in B ly to do it | plish this result two ways are open to them, which | Semcy Mr. Wright, the respectable Minister of the night for another farewell performance for the | | from Hamilton « hases 1 I were, doubtless, urged by the speakers. One is, to t nited States at Berlin, I have received the interesting crowds who could not getin? If there were still lw It was t the ti . , rf for : \ paint better pictures than the artists of other coun- a shy hg SASRSEND OC SRO Aeanans Se disappointed people, might he not be persuaded to | York was chorusing with t ; » aw Ms t : the other is, to sell equally good pictures at : “7 ~~ ané | beg. pol President, of that noble and pe- | ‘ ike farewell number three, and , 7 oe . nering It is our , | - ; I wk. aed i riotic institution to accept the assurance of the gratitude twenty, if necessary? The Louneer cert } , : I he a cheap r price. : I feel for the honor done to me by this benevo re- wishes he might be ‘called upot ‘ pa ' l himself « . ow P . ' Chat is, without question, the cotton-spinning membrance of me. Devoted as I am to the interests «f | f rows eee 1 by lit te yon to ‘ =e so ma ’ The shops were « ~e- view of the members from all parts of the country, your beautiful and powerful country ever since the time | || = 5 ut he would advise him to use th yt vent balloor fr to pl ‘ W 10 taste for, nor knowledge of, pictures. of Jefferson, I feel sensibly this mark of your remem- ple word “ concert, and to say that tickets were und laughi 4 ’ Id ‘ rh apitol at Washington is quite full of pictures branes. “al | “ € re aot He woul i distinctly advise him t “~~ Peas aa re ) is the Vatican at Rome. Probably the honor- ia ees te one ae a woe fom an | a. os a . = aa " ee the subj t of his gt ut ear, there = eamethl , : Rodina a embers would find it difficult to decide, ab- | spect of your very humble and very « bed hm ~ — on aie te 1 ng 4 ¢ Seated * are ery sweet; “don't ; Lent stractly, between the merits of the two galleries. “A. L. Hemsour.” rood English i ta ro ag Jatt Bo — mye es an awful shame !" “‘ oh r, just look at t l 1e artists mean to make it a matter of national —E mena som of aliiiey SS Se Sa ‘took poison, did t ‘ t ! lol pride that the pictures in an American building - a lars ;” “‘ revival ;” i t! “*¢) t shall be paint i by American artists ars ye “THE CITY OF THE GREAT KING | M. Jullien will come to New York, the Lounger | order ‘hie 4 J, sues” if honed ; least, patriotic Sut is there not a third way of Wuorver has traveled in foreign lands feels a | “™ erely hopes, ma ove ° . ) | were going out this ye rank | oe ling, not indicated in the strictly coiton- | Secret longing kindled in his heart by the return- eel ons meerts, at which he will play her chamber tw anes er , . ming view? For instance, might not the pub- ing spring. The whole visible world is starting | oe ae He is (or was) & most attractive and | what a splendil | Ei a taste itself be cultivated as well as the vote of | *4in, and his heart starts with it. Memory is no | ** oo rform: r. He had no fault but that of | «te married \ wet. tare wives ‘te Te Cong controlled, with a view to the ulterior | 'es* strong than Hope, and whether he looks back- | &'*'™S farewell concerts; and now, having been | « wretch ; 1¢, please I ar eis knowledge without which commissions will re- | W@?4 or forward he sees alluring images that beck- | annie SemeetS SF's wernt months, he begins @ | ‘steel sticking in ewhere;” ¢ han d isin, as they are now, mere matters of lobbying ? on him on. a by Bivins ‘a farewell concert.” | “only thirty ‘“ how cheay ew And is it not a very good way to cultivate public The snows are not melted yet among the Alps ; B 7 ~ ’ ~ ie a r ae wae ee No wonder that Rus $s was completel) tuste to collect and exhibit good pictures, by whom- but already tables are placed upon the Boulevards | ride, ; = ns er begun to discover that the i | away by all this chatter and so far be sever painted ? . in front of the cafés, and chatting Paris is sitting | *“'"® ee eager winge pres: by musiciangemising by the crush of the fair ones that he haz It will, however, be a matter of satisfaction to | i the street: already the chestnut in the garden | ore, and the giving of grand Sax well concerts by | whether he stood on his head or his he« a every body interested in art to know that the art- of the Tuileries is in bloom, and Easter bonnets | the same, like the letters of well-known citizens in- | ought three new ts . shirts age i ists have begun to move in the matter. Instead begin to blossom at Longchamps. In England the | % —— gentlemen to lecture, are tolerably accurate | each, for ma, Matilda A1 he Sonnnlie hese of of tagging on a commission to paint pictures tothe |“ season” is beginnin,, for stout John Bull prefers | *““'°240n® that, for some reason, poor houses family), and Araminta Jar ° 3 tail of an army bill, or a vote of thanks to Briga- his polka in June. How beautiful the London | —— | whom Rusticus int at ‘ lior-General Bomb, it will be agreeable to know | Parks will be a few weeks later! What a city to | so if you hear of ar tion in the rura that a Committee of Congress has advised wih a wander over, exploring and exploring in the ge- | oys . % , and a great combi . ne : vy of men who understand the subject. The nial weather! How Londoners must love London! 450 hemini Walk i qt c alk j woman to hav. af s from Y« Chairman of the Committee of Commerce would And how they ought to! But on the southern | . “4 — know what caused j [hese wi hardly venture to report a bill without some con- slope of the Alps summer is not faraway. There — | SeRNS oF strente ~— | Aa sultation with merchants; and the Committee on | “T° camelias at Isola Bella, the grass of the villa MUSARD | Pensive. Fine Arts, or whatever Committee has the matter Pamphili is blue with violets; there are soft infini- Fronentrxo” has, in one of his latest #7 » ¥ rit 3ST MATINE! 1arge, could not do better than follow a wise ties of blue sky opening beyond the Alban Mount. | fons, a great lament the Musardines, now that The Opera matinee was a ‘ P example. But in Naples !—mea in Iispania, mille e tre! M-isard has gone to the “ country of the Yankees those persons who had 1 ‘ However, as for the active co-operation or asso- Be ond the Mediterranean—upon the banks of | Now that the Hotel d’'Osmond has lost its prime ca- | it with, and nowhere , ciation of artists there may be both an incredulity the Nile—on the desert—among the almond-groves terer, the condition of its customers is truly pitiable. | day; except ladies, t t e ind a question—a doubt whether it is very like- | of Damascus—on the solemn hills of Jerusalem— Who forgets the fiery sign in front of the salon? large. Pe ple who m= ‘ ly or possible, and an inquiry whether art itself is | OY this time there is the tenderest bloom, and in Who does not remember the various occult games the high st state , f ever benefited by such associations. That artists the plain of Esdraelon toward the sea-shore such | and sports that were practiced in the ante-rooms | mitted to sit in the ‘*: ft should have their gvild, like mechanics and au- | S°Tgeous and multitudinous flowers! In Jerusa- of the concert, the aim whereof (the games I mean) | their fect higher than t thors, and all other workmen, for the purpose of | lem itself—the joy of the w hole earth—this is the seemed to be to transfer all the small change from | smoke, chew, and . mutually helping pecuniary fortunes and worldly j very moment of the year. You may sit now upon | your pocket to that of the keeper of the table? The | and in the evening got abl comfort, is as just as possible, But can they ac- | your house-top, and hear the clear, sad, vibrating numerous photographs of Musard and his lieuten- | Had th tine ‘ complish any other kind of result by it? Is this ery of the muezzin; you may wat h the delicate | ants in various shapes; the innocent-looking po bans might have | / union commenced at Washington likely to do more lights upon the airy dome of Omar; you may look | piers in their brass helmets and baggy trowsers, the | spittoon t thaa benefit some particular Am rican artist or art.*| up over the walls to the silent, gray Mount of Ol- affable sergéns de ville who told you to ‘move on” | ies 0 { r vas ists, leaving American Art itself untouched? Will ives; or into the city upon the heavy pile of the | with an air that could not be resisted And the Ret. los! su 2 Wha there be any less favoritism, lobbying, and ignor- | Church of the Holy Sepulchre. But when you see m itself? Whatacharming lounge! Whata | had a ga at t i I ance than now ? that, you will come down, and thread your way | delicious place for the enjoyment of the post-pran- | levees of ( ; md J : The Lounger speaks on both sides, because he is toward it through the rough, stony streets, and en- dial cigar! The hall opening on eachi side into a | at half price ! to | really an j aquirer, and not a judge. tering at the door, mingle in the most motley and | garden, one could either listen to the music qui | So on Saturday there was a great of - la remarkable ceremony of Christendom. ly or promenade, or get away into t corner rave, the wise, the good,” under t une « WHO IS THE GREATEST MAN IN THE WORLD? | 4; Even those w ho have not traveled have the | « f the garden wh re the melody came softened like | the Academy to hear Waren Re ‘ : . indest interest in travel; love to listen to travel- | the murmurs of a waterfall. Parisis generally too | sing Flotow's Martha. The affair was too | Wuo is considered the greatest living man in | ers; and believe that one day they shall see as | noisy—there is too much out of doors about it . but | iant for description. It makes me shed tears t the world? We must omit, of course, the mute well as hear. But the universal interest of Chris- | the Hotel d’Osmond had many a sly flirting ourme t think how bk orm ru brighter sd he t ke ' inglorious Miltons and gems of purest ray serene. | tendom concentrates upon Jerusalem. No otner | The price of admission was only nominal fl t. You will not loan rx : . = ‘ ed . But who among men, whose names are familiar, is | city —not Athens, nor Rome, nor Damascus, nor | —and every one went. I have seen some of Hail | row, and so I will again retur " : " ‘ probably conceded to be the greatest man? The Paris, nor London—has such a profound and mys- | Columbi 's proudest and fairest daughters inter- | ment, alone to we ep u ‘ ma on he ° verdict of the Future will doubtless be very differ- | terious charm for the civilized world. The in- | mixed with the Musardines. comforted, because Musard, the friend of ; ent from ours. Probably the brilliant court of | terest of the study of Jerusalem is inexhaust- | And the concert itself. It is charming. In | hemians and the flone may ‘ 1s & mot Leo Tenth, the head of the world of civilization at | ible. America had contributed one of the most | front stands Musard, fit successor to him who was | ing concert or two. Do, i

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r—* HARPER'S WEEKLY. _ [Apri 3, 1858 WuHerrt { H And, scantly-covered as His shapely feet hung dangling down Ss monstr yus mills, oats their freights de] i a bale of Yankee hay, lf dreaming in the warm sunlight, A ragged boatman, basking, lay— tne pop-ey | was he hight. his shock of glistening wool wore A merchant Heard Caffey thus soliloguize : ‘* Wit A th a hat without who was a crown, his skull, 1" passing near down here is 'mazing dear ; iw r des pise } queenly Richmond from the hills Looks down on Jame d by Galk Where packet ss roaring river, ity er, If 1d a dollar of my own,” Iie murmured, as he scratched his wig, When I gits back to Jefferson, I would invest it in a pig i A sow ‘twould be, of Berkshire breed ; I'd build a pen near master’s barn, That she might never lack for feed— lor master he has heaps of corn. Vil There she would thrive, and, in due time, Would pig a dozen, or fifteen ; And when these were in order prime, In market here they'd soon be seen. Vill The money that this pork would bring I would lay out in market truck ; And in three years or more, by jing! I'd have a hatful—with good luck ix From master, then, my time I'd buy He thinks this nigger is a fool, And sell him ec! then I would try To set a cart and mule. Cal me up s I'd quickly come to Richmond town, And cut a swell with my new team ; All day I'd truck it up and down, And money ‘d pour in like a stream XI. In three years more—or maybe two— I'd be both free and rich together ; And would retire, like white folks do, Eat, and do nothing whatsomever.’ XH ‘Here !” quoth the merchant. Pompey started. ‘‘See Fortune present when you call her; Such good designs should ne'er be thwarted ; make your fortune—here’s the dollar.” Go! XIU. Low louted Pompey to the ground, And, as his staring eyes waxed bigger, He grinned and chuckled, ‘‘I'll be bound I knows a gent’man by his figure.” XIV. Ile grinned to north—he grinned to south; He turned his grinning face t'ward Rockett’s, And put the dollar in his mouth— A negro’s substitute for pockets. His dreams forgot, by instinct drawn, He wends his way to where he wot of— A place to colored boatmen known, But which the city guard knows not of. XVI. ‘Twas near the hour of evening gray, The thoughtful merchant homeward sauntered, His quondam friend upon the way, All drank and reeling, he encountered.

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Pe eI Apri 3, 1858. ] xvil ‘Ah! wretch, this can not be excused! To aid your fortune I was thinking : But you my kindness have abused, And spent the day in lawless drinking.” XVIII. ‘Good master!” cried the goggle-eyed, Striving to mantle his confusion ‘*I’se put dem notions all aside, And cogitate to dis conclusion : XIX. ‘*That way we thought of takes so long, I wish to git my freedom quicker ; Now all the world to me belong— I ‘nvested master’s gift in licker!” LORD DERBY, PRIME MINISTER OF ENGLAND. Ws present our readers this week with a por- trait of Lord Derby, the present prime minister of Great Britain, and one of the most famed orators in England. It has been said of the highest nobles of England that there is no position in the world to be com- pared to the one which they occu- py. The remark may well be ap- plied to Lord Derby. Descended from one of the oldest of the great families of England, fourteenth Earl of Derby, he enjoys by right of mere »irth a rank higher than genius or any possible success in life can win for their possessor, and equal, if not superior, to any station in the world, the kingly estate alone excepted. Endowed with wealth so large as to be wholly independent of pecuniary considerations, he has never felt the debasing influences which thoughts of money-getting engender, and his mind has always been free to de- vote its whole energy to the pursuit of high and exalting objects. Born of a race which has for generations made statesmanship its trade, he has enjoyed advantages, in point of elaborate training, hereditary experience, and cunningly-devised schemes of education, such as fall to the lot of no men in the world save a few of the class to which he belongs. Such a man may well provoke the envy of the ambitious ; and if to this accidental good for- tune he add the common merits of a quick intelligence, an aptitude for or- atory, and very remarkable powers of application, his good luck seems too astonishing to be real. Such has been the fortune of the present Earl of Derby. When in 1820, at the age of twen- ty-one, he became competent to take his seat among the members of the British House of Commons, his grandfather, the Earl of Derby, presented him to Stockbridge, which constituency was in the Earl's pock- et, and therefore naturally returned his nominee. He made his mark in Parliament by several brilliant speeches within a few months after his appearance in the House of Com- mons, and soon took a prominent place among the Whig leaders. He was known at this time as Mr. Stan- ley, his grandfather being alive, and his father enjoying the title of Lord Stanley. He sat in Parlia- ment successively as member for Stockbridge, Preston, and Windsor, and acted with the Whig or Liberal party. His later elections were due entirely to the influence of that par- ty, and his promotion to office—he became Secretary for Ireland under Earl Grey—was wholly due to the favor in which he stood with the Liberal leaders. In his official ca- pacity he contrived to win more general unpopularity than any Sec- retary for Ireland before or since. No doubt, at the time, it was very difficult, if at all possible, for an English minister to administer the affairs of Ireland so as to satisfy its turbulent and short-sighted people. Mr. Stanley certainly managed to render himself hated by them, and not over-appreciated by the people of the sister isles. There are many persons who remember him best by the name of the “ scorpion Stan- ley,”” which was frequently bestow- ed on him by the arch-agitator O'Connell. In 1834 there appeared to be a prospect of the Whig party break- ing up. | tox ratic- The Reform Bill, on which they had rest- | ed their claims to public support, had become a | law, and the Tories once more loomed in the dis- tance as a formidable opposition. Mr. Stanley, who had done so well by his connection with the Liberals, and whose national reputation rested on the share he had taken in their great reforms, judged that the time had come to shift his color and, on the occasion of a party measure introduced by Earl Grey, boldly seceded from the Whig camp, and went over to the Conservative or Tory party. The question of free trade— which in England means the question whether breadstuffs shall be taxed or no—was coming up; the Whig liberals took the erpund that the poor should be enabled to buy bread as chtaply as possible, ths Tory ctin- HARPER'S servatives that the farmers should bx protects from competition with foreign agriculturists by a tax on foreign breadstu(ffs Mr. Stanley took th« le of the latter. H ialatained, in a number of ingenious speeches, that it was the duty of Par ment to support the farmers—t! is vr. landed aristocracy—at ost: tha ation of cheap bread for t poor 1 ant moment in compar i with t Lai f rents and the income of the la: pro} liolding these views, when the Whi 1 broke down after their vi i following years, Mr. Stanley was called tot inet of Sir Robert Peel, and und the office of Colonial Secret When Sir Robert Peel fess that he had been all protective duties on fi had the manliness to con- and that th reign breadstuffs ouch long wrong, be repealed in order to give cheap bread to t poor, Mr. Stanley was one of the members party who deserted him. le held out to th ! in favor of the agricultural—that is to say, t —interest; and when Sir Rebert | prime minister in 1846, and proce: ded to repeal t TT a thes i Me = per THE EARL OF DERBY, Ri Corn Laws, Mr. Stanle: who now became, by the death of his grandfather, Lord Stanley—took a leading part in opposing him From this time forth Lord Stanley was recog- | nized as one of the leaders of the Protectionist Party in England. In one sense he was the leader of that party He was the only chief it had who was ca- pable of conte ding in Parliament against the chiefs of the Free-traders, and his rank and the presti of his name gave him a marked advantage over the other Conservative leaders In the year 1851 his father died, and he duly succeeded to the title of the Earl of Derby. This settled his position. He became the leader of the party which advocated the reimposition of protect- ive duties on foreign brewistaffs; and, in virtas WEEKLY. f that . ved tl of the la racy I \ ¥, wher at ur «Lor } I I imse] f rT f Ex 2 n I i as ft r ‘ t , ; \ f f ry \\ rime ‘ I D becar pr num his Prot frie t l ull mi fi 1 t } th It tl ly u th ! tha Lord I — sined the p hich had bee thre t life t j . ; f : he ¥ at m i a ef i th I f lif i posit il MINISTER OF BNULAND racy of England. It was confidently expected that he would at least attempt to reimpx protec- tive duties on foreign breadstuffs Instead of thi he deliberately bestowed his attention o. t! st method of extendi ind consolidatin { f trade measures of his oppone: the aim of his life to defeat, and whose pa } clustered round him the thew and si porters Partly in nsequence of the ust this second tergiversat pa herent absurdity of the Tory platform i England, Lord Derby was soon mpell linquish power, and to fall back upon his old posi- tion of head of the Tory opposition in that attitude fot several years. Dari HIe remained |

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214 HARPER'S livered in the old Representatives’ Hall at Wash- ington, by Edward M. Gallaudet, on the occasion of an exhibition of the pupils of the new National Institute for Deaf Mutes, which is under his charge at the Capitol. The address is simple and eloquent, and appeals strongly to the country for the support of this enterprise. Mr. Gallaudet is the son of the late Rev. Thomas H. Gallaudet, whose fame in the same benevolent work is world-wide. Carter & Brothers publish Hyans or Tur Cuveca Mitrranr—a collection made by Miss Warner, whose taste is excellent, and which will prove itself acceptable to all who desire a general collection of hymns without reference to church books. We find many ancient favorites here which have long ago escape out of the ordinary hymn- books. Auother delightful collection of songs is publish- ed by Randolph, and entitled Lirrie Sones ror Littt# Pror.es, than which we know no collec- tion more judicious or more complete. Many a house will riag with the music of these songs, sung by the voices that are purest and pleasantest of all in the world; for if they do not sing in harmony, the little ones sing in perfect melody, and often- times it is far more cheering to hear their voices than would be a full orchestra or a perfectly train- ed choir. Carter & Brothers publish in their Fireside Li- brary series Passtnc CLoups, or Love CoxquEr- rx Ev, an excellent little book for young peo- ple; and also Tux Rony Famu.y, or Batriixe wrra THe Worxp, which is a conclusion to “ The Giant Killer,” a little book that many of our young readers will remember with pleasure. The lady author of these books has become very popular with the little folks; and as her lessons are unex- ceptionable, her books are desirable additions to the juvenile literature of the day One of the most valuable books of the past week is a new edition of the Rev. Dr. Riggs’s Manvat or THE CuALvEer Lanouacn, thoroughly revised by him, and forming now the only reliable work of its kind. ‘To clergymen and Hebrew scholars in general we need not commend this book, but to general students of language we shall do a fa- vor in directing their attention to it. Much inter- est has been manifested of late in the study of the Shemitish languages, both in England and Amer- ica, Dr. Riggs has returned from his long resi- dence in the East with perhaps a more complete understanding of those languages than any Amer- ican scholar; and although his work is small, its coudensation, simplicity, and clearness sufficiently evince the long study and careful labor which have enabled him to produce it. Joha P. Jewett & Co., of Boston, issue new edi- tions of their HANp-sooKks or lowA, MINNESOTA, and Kansas and Nepras«,, of all which we have before spoken. That of Kansas contains too much political matter that does not belong in a hand- book, but it contains also much interesting and valuable information for emigrants and others. ce — - DOMESTIC INTELLIGENCE. POLITICAL. CONGRESS. On Monday, March 22, In the Senate, Senators Stuart, Bayard, Broderick, Douglas, and Toombs spoke on the Kansa* question In the House, on motion of Mr. Stephens, end after debate by Messrs. Stephens, Phillips, Stanton, and Hughes, the witness Wolcott was handed over to the law for triai at the criminal court on the in- dietment found agsinst him. The Deficiency Appropri- ation Bill being then taken up, speeches on Kansas wore made by Messrs, Garnett, Bishop, Pottle, Morris, Abbott, and Kellogg On Tuesday, 23d, after a speech on the Kansas ques- tion by Senator Green, that Senator moved the following amendments, which were carried: Firet — Strike out of the preamble and substitute, ** Whereas, the people of the Territory of Kansas did, by a convention of delegates ealled and assembled at Lecompton, September 4, 1857, form for themselves a Constitution and State Government, which said Conven- tion having asked the admission of the Territory into the Union as a State, on an equal footing with the orig- inal States,” ete. Secondly—Add to section 2, ninth line, * That nothing in this act ehall be construed to abridge or infringe any right of the people, asserted in the Constitution of Kan- sas, at all times, to alter, reform, or abolish their form of government in such manner as they may think proper —Cougress hereby disclaiming any authority to inter- vene or declare the conetruction of the Constitution of any State, except to see that it is Republican in form, and not in conflict with the United States." The vote on the last amendment was 8] to 25. Sena tor Pugh then moved, and it was carried, that the Fed- eral laws, if not inapplicable, be extended into the State of Kansas, and a judicial district be formed as in Iowa. Senator Crittenden meved his amendment, in substance that the Lecompton Constitution be submitted now to the people of Kansas, and if approved of, that the Presi- dent admit Kansas by proclamation; if rejected, the peo- ple of Kansas to call another convention and frame a new Gonstitation. This amendment was lost by 24 to 54, The amended Bill tc admit Kansas with the Lecompton Constitution was then put and carried by 33 to 25.—— The House, on assembling, went into Committee of the Whole on the Deficiency Appropriation Bill, and speeches on Kansas were made by Messrs. Kellogg, Singleton, Howard, Barnett, Blair, Wortendyke, and Potter, On Wednesday, 24th, in the Senate, Senator Seward presented New York rerolutions against Leeompton. Senator Wilson introduced a bill authorizing the con- struction of an electric graph to Utah. Various pe- titions were presented—among others, two for a relief (.¢., bankrupt) law. A resolution was adopted instruct- ing the Judiciary Committee to inquire into the expe- diency of suspending the Territorial Jawsof Utah. Sen- ator Iversor, from the Milftary Committee, reported back without amendment the bilis for the employment of a regiment of mounted volunteers on the Texan frontier, and for the calling out by the President four additional regiments of volunteers, Several unimportant memorials were reported And resolutions considered, when Senator Gwin proposed to take up the Pacific Railroad. After discussion, the Minnesota Bill was taken up in prefer- ence, and some discussion between Senators Seward, Pugh, Bates, and others followed._—The House hav- ing gone into Committee of the Whole on the Deficiency Appropriation Bill, speeches on Kansas were made by Messrs. Clark of Missouri, Granger, Clark of New York, Kilgore, Stewart, and Buffinton. On Thursday, 25th, anti-Slavery resolutions were pre- sented from Maine by Senator Fessenden (in spite of ob- jections from Senator Mason), and from New York by Senator Seward. Various private bills were considered, The Committee on Commerce reported back without awendment the bill for a uniform code of international marine signals, The Minnesota Bil having been taken up, «peeches were made by Senators Toombs, Brown, Wilson, Johnson, Mason, and Critterden.——In the Ilouse, some conversation took place between Messrs. Stephens, Campbell, Washburn, and M migomery #+ to the day on which the vote on the Kansas que stion should be taken, but no result was reached. The Deficiency Appropriation Bill having been taken up, speeches on Kansas were made by Messrs. Peyton, Grow, Reilly, Thayer, Moore, Washburne of Ilinois, Davis, Dean, Boyce, Covode, and Robbins, In the course of the de- bate it was understood that Mr. Stephens would, on tho Thursday following, move to take up the Kansas Bill, and would move the previous question, On Friday, 26th, the Senate not being in session, the House was occupied with the Lecompton Constitution and speeches on the subject were made by Messrs. English, Smith of Virginia, Davis, Marshall, Palmer, and Morris. On Saturday, 27th, the Senate not being in session, Mr. Seward ot Georgia presented the report of the com- mittee in Matteson’s case, to the effect that it is inex- pedient to take further steps for his expulsion. After conversation between Messrs. Seward and Craige the re- port was agreed to by 96 to 60. Mr. Glancy Jones, from the Committee on Ways and Means, reported a bill mak- ing appropriations for expenses incurred in collecting the revenue fro... customs, and repealing all laws authorizing their payment on the Pacific coast out of the revenue be- fore being paid into the Treasury. Also a bill modifying the act of 1857, relative to the safe-keeping of the trans- fer and disbursements of the public revenue, #9 as to authorize the disbursing agent with the sanction of the head of his department, to hold money and pay it direct- ly to the person to whom payment is to be made, without first depositing the same in the Treasury. The Kansas question was then taken up and speeches thereon made by Messrs. Shaw, Morris, Smith of Virginia, Burnett, Lane, and Hall. REPUBLICAN REPORT ON LECOMPTON. We gave, ia a former number, the substance of the Majority and Douglas Reports of the House Committee on Kansas. The following is the point of the Republican minority of that Committee: They claim that ‘the Le- compton Convention could not make a valid Constitu- tion: ** 1. Beeause, whatever inherent power the people may possess, Congress refused all legal authority to the Terri- torial Legislature to call the Convention, though urged by President Pierce; **2. Because the Legislature which created it was it- self the creature of fraud and foreign invasion, and that this usurpation was never consummated by the acquies- couce of the people; “3. Because tue Act of that Legislature, passed Feb- ruary 19, 1857, to ‘ provide for taking a census and the election of delegates to a Convention,’ was never fairly executed. The census was incomplete, the registry was incomplete, the apportionment was incomplete, and the number of delegates assembled was incomplete ; **4, Because, through the nefarious apportionment, the threatened exclusion from the polls unless coupled with the payment of a tax to support a Government im- posed upon them by high-handed outrages, through lack of all confidence-of protection at the polls from violence and fraud, the majority did not and could not participate in the election of delegates, and it wa+ therefore composed of a mere faction entitled to no regard; “5. Because the most noted delegates pledged them- selves to submit their work to the ratification or rejection of the people—thereby securing their election—and after- ward betrayed their trust, and did not so submit the Con- stitution ; “6. Because it is not, in fact, the work of a majority of the Convention; “7. Because the legislative, judicial, and executive powers conferred upon John Calhoun transcended the power of the Convention, and their exercise was entirely illegal, and therefore null and void." They also deny that the Lecompton Constitution is ac- ceptable or satisfactory to the people of Kansas. DEMOCRATIC CAUCUS ON LECOMPTON. Mr. Cochrane issued a notice on the 27th ult. for a democratic caucus to be held in the hall of the house at half past seven o'clock that evening. At the appointed time between sixty and seventy members were present. Mr. Cochrane was called to the chair, and Mr. Seward, of Georgia, was appointed secretary. Mr. Stephens, of Georgia, stated the object of the meeting to be to confer together—the Lecompton and anti-Lecompton Democrats —and see if some arrangement could not be made to unite the discordant elements, He was ready to hear any suggestion from those gentlemen upon this Kansas difficulty. He had never yet been able to ascertain what those gentlemen desired. He, for one, was for unity and harmony, and desired above all things to preserve the party intact; and he believed it could be done if a proper spirit was manifested. Mr. Engiish, ef Indiana, then offered the following resolution :— “Resolved, That a committee be appointed by the chair, to consist of ten Lecompton and ten anti-Lecompton Dem- ocrats, whose duty it shall be to confer together, and as- certain whether any thing can be done to secure harmo- ny and coneert of action in reference to the question of admitting Kanses into the Uuion; and that said commit- tee report the result of their deliberations to this caucus, for its consideration, on Tuesday evening next, at 8 o'clock, to which time the caucus will adjourn.” The resolution was adopted. THE PHILADELPUIA POST-OFFICR COMMITTEB. The Investigating Committee on the Philadelphia Post-office has met at Washington. Mr. Campbell, late Postmaster-General, was examined, and completely ex- culpated himself from any connection with the transac- tion. Mr. Allibone was also examined. He testified that $23,000 was paid to Mr. Miller as a reward for his services in eonsummating and securing the contract. The prices paid for the building and site was $250,000. The whole amount was paid into the Bank of Pennsyl- vania, in gold, from the Philadelphia mint. The com- mittee meet again soon, when Mr. Miller will be exam- ined. LATEST NEWS FROM UTAH. The War Department has received dispatches from the Utah Expedition to Ist February. Colonel Johnston's letter is of such a character that it is deemed advisable not to permit a copy of it to be made for publication, although it is said that nothing of partic- ular interest has transpired since the last advices. The health of the officers and soldiers is represented as good. COLONEL JOHNSTON'S VIEWS. Colonel Johnston writes officially on the 20th January as follows: ‘* My information respecting the conduct of the Mormons since is that their troops are organized to resist the establishment of a Territorial government by the United States, and in furtherance of that object they have erected works of defense in the mountain-passes and near Salt Lake City. Knowing how repugnant it would be to the policy or interest of the government to do any act that would force these people foto unpleasant rela- tions with the Federal Government, I would, in conform- ity with the views also of the commanding General, on all proper occasions, have manifested in my intereourse with them a spirit of conciliation, but I do not believe that such consideration for them would be properly ap- preciated now, or rather would be wrongly interpreted ; and in view of the treasonable temper and feeling now pervading the leaders and greater portion of the Mor- mons, I think that neither the honor nor dignity of the Government will allow of the slightest concession being made to them. “ They should be made to submit to the constitutional and lega! demands of the Government unconditionally —an adjustment of existing difficulties on any other ba- sis would be nugatory. “Their threat to oppose the march of the troops in the spring will not have the slightest influence in delay- ing it; and if they desire to join issue, I believe it is for the interest of the Government that they should have the opportunity.” AN EXPECTED MORMON ATTACK, The correspondent of the St. Louis Leader writes: * On the Sth inst. we had quite a little excitement in the shape of an expected Mormon attack. Colonel Bee sent me out in charge of a small patrol early in the evening, to proceed up Black York and search the scrub and bluffs in the neighborhood for a Mormon camp, which was reported to have been seen by some individual, WEEKLY. [Aprin 3, 1858, whom we hope to see some day soon properly rewarded fur making such asses of us. It was very dark, no moon, and the picasure of wading over brush and rocks, on a January night, among the Utah mountains, with a couple of feet fame on the ground, must be tested to be appreciated. I went about fourteen miles or so at a rattling pace, saw nothing, found no fresh trails, and re- turned to camp, where I learned that two other larger parties under Lieutenant Deshler, 10th infantry, and Lieutenant Bennet, of the volunteer battalion, had start- ed immediately I had left camp; the former returned on the following day, after a fatiguing night march, but the latter was out five days, the men carrying rations for that time. It was pretty hard licks walking over these plains in deep snow and camping out at night with only a single blanket for bedding and tent. Many of the men were more or less severely frost-bitten. Their recon- noissance was also unable to discover the least trace of any enemy.” A BALL IN CAMP. He adds: ** While some of the army were thus rough- ing it out, another portion of it, the nou-commissioned oflicers of the 10th, got up a ball and supper in their camp, and many of our sergeants, corporals, and men of the volunteers attended. iow it went off I don’t know, as, though I have a pretty fair appreciation of a really genuine absurdity, still the idea of a ball in this confound- ed region, without the faintest attempt at any thing al- most in the feminine line, was a leetie too rich. As far as I remember of what I heard, it ended in a perfectly free fight, involving the loss of the supper and the destruc- tion of the grub, ete., being the only return made to a large majority for the $5 which they paid for their tickets. CAPTURE OF A 5PY. “On the day following a gentleman came into the camp at head-quarters in the most free-and-easy kind of way, perfectly affable and communicative, and all that sort of thing, stating that he was a persecuted individual who had escaped from Salt Lake City, and offering for sale butter, eggs, and milk, luxuries unheard of, and assum- ing the air and manner, as far as possible, of a friend to the States and the army, and a jolly good fellow into the bargain. His career in this part, for which nature never intended him, was cut short as summarily as there is every reason to hope his existence will soon be, though not by the intervention of a rope, but of Major Porter, Assistant Adjutant-General, and a file of men with un- pleasant revolvers ominously cocked. The interesting but misguided provider of the aforesaid dainties proved to be a notorious Mormon, called Cherokee Jim, alias Thomson, a regularly-commissiened ‘destroying angel ;* in other words, a blood-thirsty, murderous fanatic, who, like the Thugs in India, offered human sacrifices to the object of his adoration. He wasi iatel dated with bracelets and anklets to match, and put into the guard-house of the Fifth regiment, in which appro- priate locality he still flourishes, and, it is to be antici- pated, will flourish until he can be tried. Strong sus- picion has arisen that the Mormons have spies, and good ones too, in our midst. Cherokee Jim asserts that they know every thing that passes, and I, for one, believe it.” PERSONAL. Colonel Johnston, commanding Utah army, has been appointed Brevet Brigadier-General by the President. Mr. Harris has been removed to Judge Douglas's house, as it is more comfortable than his lodgings. It is feared that he is far gone in consumption. The Turkish Admiral and suite have accepted an invi- tation to visit the Red River of the North, which is the western | lary of Mi ta, the principal object being to see the valicy of the river and to engage in hunting the elk and buffalo. It is proposed to make the trip in July. Itis said that Vice-Persident Breckinridge, Sena- tors Fiteh and Rice, Messrs. Becker and Cavanaugh, rep- resentatives from Minnesota, and ex-Governor Medary will accompany the expedition. Wolcott, the Middlesex Mills man, has been released on bail, and has gone to Boston. The bail is $2000, and Willard of the hotel is his bondsman. It is believed that through informality in the indictment this will be the end of that farce. The New Orleans correspondent of the Galveston News writes that Colonel Lockridge was ee to leave for Texas on the 24th ult,, with the intention of revolutioniz- ing Northern Mexico, and that many Northern men and considerable means are engaged in the enterprise. A let- ter from Colonel Lockridge to the News confirms the state- ment. Colonel Benton is confined to his bed, with cancer of the stomach. He works upon his Abridgement of the Congressional Debates as steadily as ever, and hopes to live long enough to finish it, Mr. Edward F. Underhill, of this city, has started a revolutionary, fiercely progressive paper, called the Move- ment. We hope it may move in the right direction. Governor Wise has written the following letter .o the editor of the Vicksburg Whig: “ Rremmonp, Vimermia, Wedaceday, March 8, 1858. * Dean Stn,—My opinion is that Virginia will never allow the remains of Washington to be removed from Mount Vernon, except to her own monument to his mem- ory at Richmond. hat she will, if they are not removed, never code Mount Vernon to the Federal Goverament, and that she ow7ht never to do so. ** Respectfully, your obedient servant, “ Isaac M. Pararpor, Beq.” “Hawny A. Wien. At an Assembly in this city the distinguishing feature of the evening was the Balmoral Schottische, in which all the ladies upon the floor appeared in the scarlet jupon, with the dress looped up over it, a la Queen Victoria. The reporter es the tout ble as agreeabl as the costume was jaunty, coquettish, and unique. The Mayor of Louisville has ordered the arrest of Cap- tain Travis, who had advertised to shoot an orange from the head of a boy, in that city, on a wager of $1000, in evidence of his skill as a pistol-shooter. Complaint was made by many citizens, who were incensed at this wan- ton trifling with human life. A Washington letter-writer says that the bar of one of the fashionable hotels in that city has taken $21,000 for drinks in the past fourteen months. During several of these months the city was comparatively tenantless, This enables us to make a sort of approximation to the sum total of Congressional expenditure for fluxions, Dr. Haight, we are happy to say, was, at the last ad- vices, at San Antonio, about 22 miles from Havana, and so much improved in health that he had discontinued the use of medicine, and had been visiting the sugar planta- tions on horseback. Mr. Polk, former minister to Naples, when he was re- called, remarked to a lady: “My brother Jim being President of the United States, it was necessary we should all become diplomatists, and you see what a fool I have made of myself.” Mr. N. P. Willis went to a christening at Mr. James E. Cooley's, and thereon writes as follows: ** Among the celebrities were Dr. Taylor, the patrician pastor of Grace Church, who performed the service; Governor Hunt, with the couchant lion behind his easy «mile; the his- torian Bancroft, locomotively ahead of the train of thought with which you were trying to come up with him; Count Gurowski, the exotic American aughor; Church, the Ossian-painter of Niagara, with a face cor- roborative of his inspired picture; lrofessor Greene, so long our scholarly Consul at Rome; Tiemann, the be- lieved-in Mayor of our great cosmopolis; several of the best-known manufacturers of public opinion; and last, not least, the country’s distinguished tree-champion, who has so happily moderated the thoughtlessness of the American axe. In the way of ‘ bright particular stars,’ the most admired shining for the evening was done by a constellation from the North—a Boston mother and her two superbly beautiful daughters. It seemed but a day to me, as I looked upon them, since the mother herself was a fair young school-girl—just those daughters’ age. ** For the rest of the evening's events—how charmingly the band played as the supper-room was thrown open; how tétes-a-tétes went on in the cozy library ; how Morris and Willis renewed their vows of eternal fidelity over the chickea-salad; how Palmer's exquisite marble bust of Cooley's daughter was admired ; how it waxed late; and how we wished the sweet infant whose baptism we had witnessed all manner of warm blessings, as Brown re- ceived us under the cold starlight of out-doors, and called our carriage with his pleasant fiction of ‘good-night,’ though it was morning—for all this, please call on your memory, my dear Morris, while we leave it to the reaa- er's accommodation." The Albany Statesman furnishes the following smal!- talk about New York society for the information of the rural districts: “Now that Lent has caused a temporary cessation jn the general festivities of the so-called ionable world — especially of the Episcopal and Romish Churches—reag- ings at private houses are coming in vogue, at which from fifty to a hundred of Eve's fair daughters assemble to list. en to the interpretations of the best specimens of * pure old English undefiled." Miss Sedgwick, of hereditary in- tellectual fame, following in the wake of Miss Kemble Butler, whose career here was a success financially as we!| as oratorically, has given quite a number of these read. ings. With most attractive presence, a well-modulated and sympathetic voice, and thorough cultivation, this lady has inspired great admiration; reading-days of her own selection having been arranged for at the houses of Mrs. President King of Columbia College, Mrs. George Bancroft, Mrs. Parish, and other leaders of the ‘upper ten.’ The scene at one of these readings is represented as quite striking—with the number of private carriages, the ladies dressed in full visiting costume, and the ab- sence of the male element—so pleasant occasionally, as one of the fair spectators naively remarked. The * occa- sionally’ was slightly emphasized, of course ; but certain- ly this new style of entertainment is an improvement upon the balls and parties, which, this winter, it is true, have been rather less frequent than usual." The Times says that ** Ex-President Santa Anna, ac. companied by his family, embarked on the 12th instant, at Carthagena, on board the British mail steamship Clyde, for St. Thomasand Havana. He was, doubtless, en reute for Mexico." A Chinaman visited the fish-market at Sacramento, and paid $2 50 for the privilege of throwing overboard forty-five fish. In explanation of this singular notion, he stated that on that day, a year or two since, he was wrecked with some eighty of his countrymen and thirty white men ; that he was the — Chinaman that survived, and that he then made a vow that he would release forty- five fish on each succeeding anniversary of the day. HOW CAPTAIN DURHAM MADE HIS ESCAPE FROM MARSEILLES, Captain Durham, of the Adriatic, has published an account of his escape from Marseilles, in which the affair is thus described: ‘* Learning that the Adriatic would not be taken possession of until the full extent of the loss by the Lyonnais could be ascertained, he improved the interval in devising the means of escape. He engaged a caulker and had her caulked all around for about five feet above the water's edge, under the pretext that she was so open, when the mistrals should set in she would sink right there in the harbor. Captain D. thinks there were no suspicions from this movement; for in the ‘noise and confusion’ of the caulkers’ operations he and an assistant were quietly weaving the running rigging on board, and getting ready for sea. They worked at this business about three hours every night—say from nine o'clock till twelve—when there was much noise, aud it was so dark no one could either hear or see what they were doing. What provisions they got were put on board another vessel, and from thence transferred to the Adri- atic during the night. The crew were also shipped for another vessel, and subsequently taken on board the Adriatic, when they were so much intoxicated as not to be conscious of what was going on. “Captain Durham commenced getting ready to haul out about nine o'clock on the evening of the 8th Janu- ary, his force consisting, besides himself, of Captain ——, the two mates, and a boy. The vessel lay in the middle tier, about half-way up the harbor, with both anchors ahead, and moored with a haweer astern. They bent the two topsails and main-topmast staysail where she lay. The vessel ahead of the Adriatic was made fast to the chain, and when the Adriatic slipped they let go the fast of the other vessel, and hove her right into the middle of the harbor ahead of her. When the captain awoke and found out his situation, and that his vessel was adrift, there was no end to his imprecations against ‘ the d—d Yankees.’ Captain D. had no time to spare to his * sacres,’ but got clear of him as soon as he could, and hauled down the harbor nearly to the guard-ship, when he stopped to take on his crew and to make sail. The crew were got on board by four o'cleck on the morning of the 9th; they then set the topsails, and putting four oars in the boat, put her ahead until the vessel got steer- way. “When the Adriatic got abreast of the guard-ship, her boat came off and demanded the fort-pass of the for- mer. Captain D., when asked for his pass, replied * Prennez la,’ and threw the officer a small bit of paper with two sous wrapped up in it. The paper and money, however—whether by accident or design the Captain does not say—went over the boat and into the water, sinking to the bottom. The officer of the guard- ship then inquired for the name of the veasel, when Cap- tain ham sang out that she was the American ship Luna, Mhat had clezred the day before. Nothing more was heard from she official, and the Adriatic proceeded on her way.” “toh TPUL TRAGEDY IN CALIFORNIA, A terrible wagedy took place at Grass Valley on Sun- day, February 21, in which the family of Michael Bren- nan, consisting of his wife and three children, were pois- oned by him with Prussic acid, afterwhich he committed suicide inthe same manner. Mr. Brennan was the agent of the Mount Hope Mining Company, and had formerly been a phonographie reporter for the press in this city. Pecuniary embarrassment is said to have been the occa. sion of the dreadful deed. HOW THE DEED WAS DONE, The Alia California says: ‘We have lying before 1 « letter written by a lady of that town to a friend in thi« pe which gives so well-connected a narrative of the affair that we avail ourselves of the privilege of making the following extract: “*Mrs, Brennan did not tell the girls to go to church, and the cook heard Mr. B. ask Mrs. B. if the two serv- ants were not going. Mrs. B. said, ** You know the cook (Delia) is not well. The nurse, Kitty, went to church, and the cook took the two eldest children out to walk. Mrs. B. then took the youngest child in her arms, and walked up and down the veranda until he came and took it from her, when she went and laid out the children's clothing ready for their bath when they came back from the walk. The last the cook saw of Mrs, B. was when she left the veranda and went into the house. It is sup- _ that he did not tell his wife that he had lost heav- ly, and was deeply involved, more than ten minutes be- fore her death. As she was totally unacquainted with her husband's financial condition she knew nothing of his embarrassment; and when he told her of his situation and what he meant to do with himself, the shock caused her to feel faint, and she laid down on the sofa. At this time he handed her a glass of claret, with the deadly pois- on in it, which she ) et thinking it was only wine, and that it would revive her. A loaded pistol was on tha table, for use in case she had not drank the wine. After drinking she clenched her hands and struggled some, when he put the pillow over her face and smoth- ered her; then saturated a piece of sugar with the poison and fed it to the child. When the cook returned he took the eldest child, a girl, and administered the sugar to her. He then called the boy, Bobby, into the room, but he ran out, crying, “Oh! mamma!" but the father fol- loved him, — him his little man, took him up in his arms, carried him back, gave him some sugar, and smothered him. The girl, who was preparing lunch in another apartment, did not think any thing unusual of these actions. After killing the entire family the father secured all the doors and sat duwn to write, but hearing Martineau come he stepped out, and, holding the door in his hand, told him the girls were at church, and that he would not bother about lunch, bat have dinner at five o'clock. He said Mrs. Brennan was not well, and had laid down. In the letter he wrote, he said he wanted Martineau, the secretary of the company, to be sure they were all dead.’" WHY COUSINS SHOULD NOT MARRY. In the annual report of the Superinteadent of the Ken- tucky Institution for the Deaf and Dumb is the following argument against

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Apri 3, 1858.] HARPER'S WEEKLY. “From ten to twenty per cent. of deaf mutes are the children of cousins. It is greatly to be regretted that the law forbidding the of first cousins did not the recent ‘ bese are viola- tions of the law of nature, as is evidenced by the afflic- tion visite! in almost ease upon their offspring in deafness, |.lindness, and —and ought to be a vio- lation of human laws also. commonwealth has a clear right (o protect itself against these ill-starred match- es, whose offspring it has to sustain, frequently for life. It may be hoped that this important subject will not es- cape the «tion of our legislators many years longer. Itis confidently believed that, by forbi marriage of this kind, and by proper attention and care of infants labor- ing under the disease stated, the number of deaf mutes in the community might be diminished by one-half in a generativu.” A CHASE AFTER A SHARK. The Norfoik Argus contains the following: “A gen- tleman an | servant, a stalwart negro, wen’ fishing for rock on the Bayshore. The big darkey,afterwading out, tied the live around his body. Soon an old shark came along and swallowed the bait, and Sambo held the line. The powerfal fish, however, drew him gradually out in deep water by a rapid movement, tightened the line and dashed furiously out from the shore, followed by the dark - ey, who alternately d beneath the waves and rose to the surface, ng at his knife as he rushed on with almost lightning speed in the wake of the shark. Ile was seen at the distance of nearly a mile, entirely be- yond the reach of assistanee, and a victim of his own haz- ardous daring and imprudent temerity.” A BLACK MAN SOLD AT AUCTION IN BOSTON. The Boston Courier states: ** Messrs. Barbour & Son sold at auction yesterday the old wooden buildings at the corner of Sudbury and Portland streets, to make room for improvements. The auctioneer stated that he should sell to the highest bidder the buildings and their ‘con- tents,’ with the exception of the bricks and stone, but was quite surprised, if not alarmed, u being subse- quently informed that one of the buildings contained a negro tenant at the time of the sale, The black man, it is said, was once a Southern slave, although a free man at the presenttime. This little incident created consid- erable merriment, as the auctioneer is known to be some- what ultra in his Anti-Slavery views.” A CLERGYMAN BURIED ALIVE. A letter dated Holland, Erie County, Pennsylvania, March 15, says: “ A very afllictive di sation of Providence has taken place within twenty a of this place. A Presbyterian minister named Reed was going to attend a meeting of the Presbytery. He stopped overnight with another minister at a private house. Mr. Reed was taken with a fit in the night, and it was supposed he haddied. The other minister being in a hurry to get to the meeting in season had him buried the next day. On his return from meeting he left word at Oxford that their minister was dead and buried. His friends went immediately to get his remains and bring them to Oxford, when, to their great sorrow, they discovered that he had been buried alive. The cover of the coffin was split, and his shroud was completely torn off and he turned nearly on his face. He was a bachelor, and a very worthy man. His dread- ful death is much lamented." FOREIGN NEWS. ENGLAND. SETTLEMENT OF THE DISPUTE WITH FRANCE. In Parliament, on 12th, Mr. Disraeli, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, said he would take the earliest oppor- tunity of stating that within the last hour her Majesty's Government had received a dispatch from the French Government in answer to the dispatch addressed to them by her Majesty's Government, and he had great pleasure in announcing to the House that those painful cireum- stances which had unhappily for a time subsisted between the Governments of the two countries had entirely term- inated; they had been terminated in a spirit friendly and honorable, and in a manner which he believed satis- factory to the feelings, as he was sure they would be con- ducive to the interests and happiness of both countries. As soon as her Majesty's had been obtained, it would be his duty to lay the correspondence upon the table. THE COURT CAMARILLA AGAIN, A gossiping correspondent ef a London paper tells the following anecdote of the troubles which beset Lord Der- by's accession to office: “One story flying about was, that there was a ‘ Bed- chamber Plot,’ that the Duchess of Sutherland would not budge in favor of the Duchess of Manchester, and that Lord Derby was going to throw up the cards in con- sequence. The Whigs played that game in 1855 with great success—Sir Kobert Peel, in consequence of his ladies not being accepted, having declined to form a Gov- ernment. But it could not be dene again ; common sense could not afford it. With a very youthful female sover- eign on the throne, it was a political consequence that she should be surrounded by a Court at least not hostile to her Minister, and the public sympathy of the time was with the yonthful Queen, hesitating to bring a host of strange Tory dames about her. But Victoria na is rather an elderly, sensible by this time, and if a Minister insisted on his hamber women, her Majesty would undoubtedly have to give way. It is, however, a question whether the time has not come to omit these great ladies in a ‘crisis. The world has very little idea how they hunger for pay and see a and the social advantages of a court position; and their fuss gives rise to many an intrigue and affects many a vote. But is it not time to put a stop to such Fd oe Why, because Lord Pal- merston is out and Derby is in, should the Duchess of Sutherland give up her rooms, and leave off scolding the maids in charge of the robes at the palace? The fe- male officers about the court ought to be abolished alto- gether. Some suggestion of this kind may have been very appropriately urged by the Queen, and hence the gossip about a difficulty at the Court. But Lord Derby seems not to have had the courage to undertake the in- novation. Rupert ran away from a charge of crinoline— and no wonder.” DEPARTURE OF DR. LIVINGSTONE. The Pearl, serew-steamer, having on board Dr. Living- stone, sailed on 10th ult. from Liverpool. There were also on board Mrs. Livingstone and her little ron; Cap- tain Bedingfield, R.N., Government surveyor and nautical commander of the expedition; Dr. Kirk, of Edin * botanist and medical offieer; Mr. Thornton, 3 Mr. Rae, engineer of the launch; and Mr. T. Baines, artist, who now out for the pu of sketching the count rough, and the i ts, animals, and plants met with in the research in Africa. The Pearl will proceed up the Zambesi as far as her draught of water will permit, and, after di b — her p |, Stores, and launch, steam direct for the island of Ceylon, whither she will be employed by the East India Company for the purpose of carrying the mails from the main land to the steamer contract boats at Point de Galle. She has been fitted up with a lifting serew, and every other recent in- vention, for the purpose of procuringspeed. The launch which the Pearl takes out is for the purpose of facilitating the navigation of the shallows of the River Zambesi. ANOTHER ACCIDENT FROM WEARING HOOPS. Another instance of the dangerous'y combustible na- ture of that article which is just now the “delight of the fair sex,” has occurred at Tunbridge Wella. Three young ladies were at a y, when one of them rose from her seat, and by the fire-place. Presently one of her companions espied ber dress on fire, when an excited scene was enacted. The second young lady called out to the first that her dress was on fire, and rushed to the door to alarm the house. The lady “on fire” seized her, and thus her dress was igni also. The crinoline was flaring away, when the shrieks of the fair unfortunates brought one of the other sex to their assistance, who tore off them the ignited parts of their dress. After he had, as he thought, placed them out of danger, the lady whose dress first caught fire when she ‘ passed the fire-place, discovered that her garments were | on oe and she rushed to the door, but was pre- | ven Tom going out by the third young lady. She was then hurried away to the bath, and finding pat water in it, the gentleman placed her under the tap, and sata- rating her clothes with water, succeeded in extinguish- ing the fire. One of their arms was severely burned. The floor of the room caught fire from the burning pieces thrown on it, but it was soon put out. THE WORKING OF THE NEW DIVORCE ACT. The Leader tells the following story: “The operation of the New Divorce Act is begiuning to be illustrated in a marked manner. An application which was made at Exeter a few days ago deserves attention. A Mrs. Cath- erine E. Bond applied under the 20th and 2ist of Vic- toria, cap. 85, for protection for herself and property against her husband and his creditors’ The wife stated that her husband had deserted her without reasonable cause for nearly five years, during which time she had supported herself by letting furnished lodgings. She had nothing of her husband until June last, when he returned to her in a state of utter destitution, and out of charity she permitted him to sleep under her roof, and to take his meals in the kitchen. Very recently it has been ascertained that during the time of the husband's being away he had married another woman, and he is now in prison awaiting histrial forthe bigamy. Meanwhile, the man's creditors have applied to Mrs. Bond for payment of her husband's debts, and she is threatened with ruin The notable feature in this case is, that the fact of the wife having consented, even in charity, to permit the hus- band to return beneath her roof, is held to have condon- ed for the previous desertion, and to have rehabilitated the husband in all his previous rights and authority ; and there is but one hope for the security of the poor woman whose tender-heartedness prevented her from shutting her door in the face of the man who had deserted her the fellow will, very probably, be convicted, and there will then be no difficulty in affording her protection." A COMFORTABLE FAMILY. A London paper gives the following list of offices held by a noble family in England: “The Marquis of Nor- manby—our Minister at Florence, and high in Austrian favor. The Earl of Mulgrave (son of the above peer)— just appointed Governor of Nova Scotia.() The Hon. Charles Phipps, C.B., Colonel in the army (brother of the marquis)—Keeper of her Majesty's Privy Purse, and Treasurer of the Household to the Prince Consort. His fon, (harles—page of Honor to the Queen (which will soon procure the boy a commission in the Guards, worth £120). His son-in-law, Captain Sayer, Deputy-Assistant r-General at the Horse Guards. The lion. Edmund Phipps (second brother of the marquis)—Com- issi of E bered Estates in the West Indies (ueually resident in Italy). The Hon. Augustus Phipps (third brother of the marquis)—Kector of Euston-cum- Barnbam, Suffolk, and Chaplain in Ordinary to the Queen.” FRANCE. REVOLUTIONARY OUTBURSTS. The Monitcur, of the 11th March, says that, on the 24th Feb , arrests were made in various parts of France, which defeated culpable projects, and led to the discov- ery and seizure of arms, ammunition, and compromising correspondence. The arrests, however, have been exag- gerated. They are limited to fifty principal ringleaders at Paris, twenty at Lyons, twelve at Marseilles, and four, on an average, in forty other departments. In spite of this precaution a gathering took place in Paris on the night of the Sth of March; but firm and vigilant meas- ures caused it to prove abortive, and led to twenty new arrests, The Moniteur states that, at Chalons, or the 6th March, forty men 4 a small post of infantry. They then attem to get possession of the railroad station, erying, “* Vive la : ye ™ I Driven back, they oc- cupied the head of the bridge to interrupt communica- tion with the barracks. The officers, who live in the town, cut their way through, and the garrison also turn- ing out, the rioters were dispersed. Fifteen were cap- tured. The affray which took place at Chalons was, indisputa- bly, part of the plan of systematic agitation. The Patrie gives further details of the revolutionary attempt at Chalons, showing that the mob took the in- fantry post by surprise, and seized nearly all the arms. The rioters were subsequently subdued by a strong mil- itary detachment, and many arrests were made. FURTHER PARTICULARS. The Patrie publishes further particulars. It says: ** We have received from Chalons-sur-Saéne some new details relative to the revolutionary attempt of which that city was the scene on the evening of the 6th. Fa- vored by the darkness and by a heavy fall of snow, the rioters, preceded by some individuals of an inoffensive appearance, proceeded first to a small infantry post in the Rue de Beaunes. At some distance off the majority of the mob halted ; those who formed a sort of advance- guard went up to the sentinel, who was Instantly sur- rounded and cisarmed, in spite of his resistance, whil« one of the assailants put his hand on his mouth to pre- vent his raising an alarm. After this first success the remainder of the rioters rapidly advanced on the guard. The soldiers, half-asleep, could not prevent the seizure of the arms which were placed in the gun-rack near the door, but the sergeant in command had time to draw his sword and seize a few of the muskets, which he distrib- uted his men, ordering them to load immediate- ly. The rioters, who had possessed themselves of arms, then left the t, and went to the railway station, where, as the iteur announced, they were energet- ically repulsed. Meanwhile the officers of the garrison had received information in a café, where they were accust d to ble, of what was gon. They went forthwith to the sub-prefecture, in order to take forcible possession, if necessary, of the representative of authority. Seeing that every thing was tranquil there, they went to their barracks, situated on the other side of the river, taking with them some soldiers whom they had met strolling about; but on arriving at the bridge the ri- oters @ ted their passage. Thereupon the officers and soldiers, sword and bayonet in hand, cut their way through, not without wounding several of those who at tempted to oppose them. On the other side of the bridge a almost immediately the military commander at the head of a strong detachment coming from the bar- racks. At sight of these soldiers the rioters fled in all directions, while the soldiers occupied the Hotel de Ville, the sub-prefecture, and the approaches to the bridge. As culiar incident of this ay, it was noticed that some of those who took part in it wore tin-plate cuirasses be- neath their clothes, The greater part of the insurgents were arrested, and the rest no doubt will soon be in the hands of justice.” NAPOLEON'S MANIFESTO ON THE ENGLISH DIFFICULTY. A pamphlet has just been issued at Paris in regard to the refugee difficulty between France and England. It is entitled “ L' Bmpereur Napoleon 111. et L' Angleterre; and the Paris correspondent of the Times says, though it is the work of an eminent publicist, a member of the Council of State, yet the inspiration has been derived from the highest sources. The document treats of Na- poleon’s career since he was elected President; refers in glowing terms to the Anglo-French alliance, its results, and the earnest desire of the Emperor for its continu- ance; and then enters at great —_— into the refugee question, and shows the danger the French Government is constantly running from the machinations of the French refagees ia London, winding ~4 with an appeal to the English Government and people not to be led away by false interpretations, and expressing a hope that the alli- ance will ‘Tay etand the trials which it is undergoing. The manifesto was regarded as a State paper, and at- tracted general attention in France. It is said to have produced favorable impressions; but in England the re- verse was the case. CRIMINAL JUSTICE BETTER ADMINISTERED IN FRANCE THAN IN THE UNITED STATES, An “eminent member of the New York Bar,” in the course of a letter to the Evening Post on the trial of Or- sini, makes the following striking remarks: ** Whatever may be thought, in the United States and in England, of the political system of France, no reproach can justly be made against their criminal proceedings, A criminal prosecution is for the purpose of ascertaining the guilt or innocence of the accused, and the French = this investigation with perfect fairness. In the Jnited States itis not so. Criminal trials are not therd fairly conducted. The accused has largely the advantage of the Government which accuses him; and besides he has, I regret to say, generally the sythpathy of the pub- lic ; and, in consequence, many of the guilty are turned loose to renew their outrages upon society. In France the judges are independent, and therefore fearless and learned in the law; the rules are inflexible, and are, moreover, not all made to facilitate the prisoner in cov- ering up his guilt. It does sometimes happen in this country, as in the Jeufosse case, recently tried, that the guilty escape; but it is rare that the feeling of the com- munity takes the side of the criminal. How many mur- derers are annually acquitted by corrupt or incompetent juries and courts in the United States! And yet we boast of the perfection of our government!" A SET OF LIVING CHESSMEN, The Paris correspondent of the Times says: “In the new operacf M. Halevy, the Magicienne, which is about to appear at the Grand Opera, a game of chess will be played by the corps de ballet. In this animated game the dancers will be dressed in the costume of the various pieces of the chess-board, so that chess players in the audience can follow each move. For the invention of this singular interlude, M. Mazilier, chef de dance, claims the priority. But it seems that the same thing has Leen done at Mobile, in Alabama. At Mobile there is a society of anonymous young men, who meet once a year fora masquerade. This year this society ordered their cos- tumes from Paris—it is thus that the circumstance is known here—and these costumes represent an old Ger- man tableau on an old bridge at Munich, which has been popularized by l:thography and photography. The pic- ture represents the genius of good and the genius of evil, sitting face to face, with a large chequer-board between them, on which they play the destinies of humanity. Satan moves the black pieces, of which each represents avice. The white pieces, representing virtues, are moved by his adversary.” LAMARTINE A PLAGIARIST, The correspondent of the Philadelphia PDulletin says: * Another literary quarrel has been furnishing amuse- ment to the public lately. A very few years ago, M. Lamartine published ‘ Graziella,’ as a work of his own. It is now proved beyond dispute that the events and the personages were all borrowed, without consent of the real author, from ‘ Charles Barimore,’ a novel published by M. de Forbin, in 1810, Had this been all, M. Lamar- tine could only be accused of plagiary, but he had pro- claimed himeelf not only the author but the hero of ‘Graziella ;' he had given it to the public as ‘an ower true tale," the incidents were those of his own life, the story was that of his love and his tears! And behold! the love and the tears of M. Lamartine are the love and the tears of somebody else! M. Lamartine proclaimed himself the seducer, the destroyer, of a lovely creature who never existed, save in some one else's imagination ! All tender-hearted sentimental readers were indignant, but very glad to know it was all true, and M. Lamartine accepted with contrite heart the responsibility of a sin he had never committed. The last line in his book was: * Forgive me, I have wept!" His sin and his repentance proved very profitable; each drop of those same tears was coined into bright pieces; innocence would never have paid so well and had sucharan. M. Lamartine chose to remain under this load of sin, until forcibly re- lieved, and cruelly declared not guilty! A curious farce to be acted by a great poet and a statesman.” THE EMPRESS JEALOUS OF AN AMERICAN LADY. He telis the following story: “An anecdote, of which the heroine is an American lady, has recently been put into private circulation. The lady, celebrated for bee personal charms and her husband's wealth, was a very welcome and very frequent guest at the Elysée, in the days of the Presidency; indeed, her reception there on all festive occasions was so warm that she thought fit to withdraw from attentions that were becoming too mark - ed. When her host took unto himself a wife, Mrs. — thought the danger was over, and again became a guest at all the court balls) About two years ago, however, the invitations ceased suddenly, and all applications for tick ets remained unanswered. The lady was exceedingly an noyed, and took great trouble to ascertain the cause of her disfavor. But, finding her efforts and inquiries un availing, she courageously determined to eeize the first opportunity that offered of demanding satisfaction fo what she considered a gratuitous insult. Fortunately France and the United States did not declare war on each other on this momentous question—the lady was her own champion. At the fancy and masked ball of M: Fould, Mrs. —— appeared as La Dame de Pique. Her dress was composed of alternate stripes of white satin and crimson velvet, on which were numerous black vel vet spades surrounded by gold cord. The head-dress, composed con amore by Felix, consisted of a crimson vel- vet tiara, around which the trefoil leaves of the spades in black velvet, each adorned with a large diamond as a drop of dew, figured as feurons. The lady was reaplen- dent. Among those who surveyed with admiration this beautiful and portly Queen of Spades was one domino, between whom and her Majesty a little ball-room flirta tion arose. Finding they were closely watched by an- other mask, the stranger proposed a walk through the saloon, to which Mrs. —— readily assented. The con- versation commenced with a remark that, though she did not appear to know him there, they were old acquaint ances. Where had she been traveling there two years? Nowhere. She had remained in Paria. Ah! then, why had she not added the charm of her presence to the court balls? And why had she chosen that dress? Here Mra. —— could no longer contain the explosion of her griefs She recounted her mortification to this domino, whom she insista she did not know. He replied there was some woman's work in all this, and at any rate she should no longer be the Dame de Pique. She should have invita- tions to all the bails. The finale waa, the gallant stran- ger revealed his august features, the lady gave a flower from her bouquet in exchange for the promise, which has been faithfully kept, and so ends my, or rather ber story, of which the reader may believe as much as he chooses; my own opinion | reserve.” STORY OF A KISS AND A KICK, The correspondent of the Loston 7'ranscript is reapons- ible for the following : * A few evenings since, at Madame de R.'s, it was pro- posed to play an unpublished comedy, the production of one of our most successful dramatic authors. The sub- ject was exceilent—the rvies all very good—but there was one which no person would consent to take—that of a young man who gives a kiss to beautiful woman, and receives a kick im return from the beauty's husband. Every one wished to give the kiss, but no one would con- sent to receive the kick—and this same kick, being an excellent comic element, made a point in the piece not to be suppressed. The comedy was about to be laid aside, when a young man, lieutenant in the cavalry of the im- perial guard, consented to take the role, and receive the kick in public, provided, however, it was dispensed with at rehearsals, which was naturally agreed to. “ Madame de N. took the rile of the young wife, re- ceiving the embrace of the lieutenant. M. de N., her hus- band, acted the part of husband in the play. “ At the first rehearsal M. de N. eaid, ** “It is understood the kick is to be omitted at rehears- als, and it follows that the kiss be also omitted.’ “*I do not consent to that !’ exclaimed the lieutenant. * This is the only condition on which I submit to the hu- miliation I must undergo before the public.’ ** But consider,’ continued M. de N. *** Oh, the jealous monster!’ exclaimed all of the la- dies. “ * Nonsense—jealous!' cried the wife # In short, M. de N. in vain endeavored to be heard it was decided the kiss should be given, and the kick omitted. “The rehearsals lasted over a month. Already our lieutenant had given his thirty-eighth kiss—he had been present at every rehearsal, and the rehearsal was always ded by an lient breakfast. The husband, dis- . | given and received, promised | venge on the evening of the repteeentation. At satisfied with the manner with which the kiss had been himeelf an exciting re ‘ast the important day arrived —the last grand rehearsal hed taken place, and the ieutenant had given Madame do N. his thirty-ointh kiss—Det « few bours more and th: comedy would be presented to the public M. d& sharpened his foot. At six o'clock, as Madame de Ki. was giving the last glance at the arrangements . and salons, a servant presented her wit) she opened and read as follows “* MADAME La Comrrsse.—I am in despair has occurred, bat I feel it will be absolutely im ible for me to embrace Madame de N. inpublic, I had hoped I should be able to overcome my wiserable bashfulne ss f her theatre & noble, whict at what —but my timidity triumphs If renounce new efforts which would be uselest, and take flight I hove changed positions with one of my brother offlerrs in Af rica, and at the moment you receive thie I #hall be far from Paria. Believe, Madame la Comteexe, — regrets and my despair, Present my heart wreaking excuses to Madame de N.; and receive the a eurances of the highest respect, etc., . “*Le Viscount pa T.’ “ The comedy, naturally, was not played, but replaeed by another.” m my very HOW M. DE X. WON NIS WIFR, He also telis the following story: “One of the most brilliant ball« coatwmés of the season was given recently in the superb salons of Madame de X., Faubourg St. Ho nore. Madame de X. has been married but « few years, and the circu:nstances attending her marriage are singu lar enough to be worthy of record. “This lady, formerly Mademoiselle [., an opulent heiress, was about to marry a Portuguese gentioman Marquis de I presented by her family. for whom she had neither love nor aversion, The dav of the we iding Mademoiselle B. entered the salon im bridal costume. and approached the mirror over the fire-piace to arrange a part of her head-dress lier dress took fire, and in an instant she was enve joped in flames The guests present uttered cries of horror and fear, and many rushed from the room. The Marquis fell fainting in an arm-chair A young man, M. de X., a friend of the futere husband, caught the young girl in his arms and succeeded iu ex tinguishing the flames, not, however, without being a verely burned himecif. The wedding was postponed, but the adventure had its important equences. Mins B. was disgusted with her eifeminate pane, who, in the moment when she most needed his aid and assl-t ra had betrayed unpardonable weakness. M. de X. merited her gratitude, and even somethir ore lie has pres ence of mind, courage, and fortitude,’ she said; ‘he has suffered for me—be has saved me; I owe him a recom penee—I will marry him.’ This decision was irrevoca ble. The Marquis was dismissed, and M. de X. had the happiness of marrying a charming wife, whose least merit is the possession of a large fortune HOW TO SET A DISLOCATION OF OF THE NECK. ‘A little girl, nine years of age, of Fournols, a com mune in the department ef Puy-de-Dome, was amusing herself with “* see-sawing™ on a plank, ‘ver brother being at the otherend. He suddenly got down, and the litie girl was thrown off by the jerk, and fell on an obstacla, which caused the luxation of the sizth cervical vertebra. Dr. Missoux being calied in, he immediately receqnized the case as ore in which avy violent effort to re place the vertebre would inevitably cause the death of the patient; he therefore resolved to effect it gradually, by fatiguing the muscles, and causing them to relax of thelr own ax cord. A plank was procured, and a square block of suff cient thickness placed at the end of it by way of a pillow; the patient was then jaid on the plank, so that her head, which was immovably thrown backward, rested on the block There was, therefore, an empty space between her epine and the plank; the weight of the chest and shoulders was solely supported by the dislocated verte- bral column by degrees the resistance of the muscles. which was the chief obstacle to the restoration of the bone to its natural position, diminished, the head slowly returned to its place, and in about an hour and a half the museles had #0 far relaxed that the dislocated verte bra slipped into its place again by itself. The patient could see, move, and speak as before; nevertheless, she was kept in bed tor a whole month by way of precaution, and is at present perfectly recovered ITALY. THE KARTHQUAKE AT NAPLES. A letter dated the 19th says: “ It is nearly certain about 40,000 victimea is the result of the earthquakes. I icata hundreds have perished jaw I'wo other shocks, rather severe ones, happened in Calabria, and one near St. Germano, announced by rum bling noises, bat causing no damage. The lope has gi en 8000 ducats for the unfortunates of the earthquake; and the club of the horee-races, at the head of which is he Conte d' Aquila, gave the sam of 2000 ducat that was to have been spent for the next epring meeting The sum subeeribed by the English here is about £1000. After much discussion, it was settled that Dr. Strange and two other English gentlemen (residents) should go to distrib- ute the money themselves, instead of giving it into the hands of Government.” ANOTHER DREADFUL CALAMITY. Another sorrow has fallen upon Salerno, No sooner has the panic occasioned by the earthquake begun te cease than the population are again alarmed by another sad event. The tooth of St. Matthew the Bishop, one of the precious relics of the Church, has been stolen It disappeared during the agitation consequent on the late disaster, and this incident is only anuther proof of that moral disorder which is often pereeptible in times of great social distress. The Bighop has ordered the excommunication of the sluner, bt to no effect; proces sions with torches have been made, all equally useless the precious relic, which has saved Salerno from misfortunes, ia not to be found THE VERTESR| Masil- from hunger and by beck many MEXICO PROGRESS OF THK REVOLUTION, We have dates from Vera Cruz t& Yiet wlt., with the advices from the City of Mexico to the 16th, It is very difficult to obtain reliable information, but the followiog is probably pretty near correct: Several battles had been fought between the Constitutlonal forces and those of the Zuloaga Government The latter claim « triumph, but it don't amount to much General Parrodi had retreated befor of the Zuloags party. P order of the day, but the Government to be generally gaining ground The City of Vera Cruz was under martial law. The forces of Zuloaga were on their way there, and a herd battle would probably be fought eomewLers between tbe City of Mexico and Vera Cruz KEBELLION IN SONORA. A letter by the overiand mail, via bi Paso and San Ac tonio, to Lieutenant Mowry, dated Arona Feb. 7, states that General Gandara, the leader of the rebellion at So nora, has been entirely successful, having defeated the Government troops in several battles, At the lant ax counts Gandara had surrounded Peschiera, the Governor, #0 as to cut off al! hopes of escape. Gandara had also or- dered all the prisoners to be messaery d, and proclaimed that he would hang Peschiera if taken Other letters say that the Port Yuma and El Paso General (sollos, onunclamenutos were etill the { Zuloaga seems wagon-road was pro g finely The people of Rio Grande were much interested in the success of the Arizona bill te admit them as a Territory REVOLUTION IN VENEZUELA. 6 the following “Panama, Moreh 17, 1008 1 found the news wi . im behalf of Us ! The llerald conta statements “On my arrival here lated of a revolution ia Caracas, Pace It is enid that the people mee, proctalming 1 (Pac and that Monagas was Lesieged in the Plaza de Ban I’ablo, with his personal guard, fighting for thelr lives.“ “Canscan, Feb. 7, 19 il com “We are now in earnest, and the outbreak will mence this moath in Vaiencia and l’orto Cabello

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Cc - 3a ks 218 THE ATTACK ON CANTON. Tur foregoing illustrations represent a scene in the recent attack on Canton by the allied French and English troops, and an attack by Chinamen, in a creck near Canton, on an English man-of-war’s boat containing the famous Lieutenant Pim, and the correspondent of the / Uustrated London News, Mr. Wargman. The American reader will vain- ly seek for the stars and stripes among the com- itants, Our people were, for the best reasons in the world, kept cut of the fight. We have already given in the news columns the of the attack ter than add the following extracts from the In describing We feel that we can not do correspondent of the London 7imes. t! rst assault, he says: ‘Capiain Rotton's guns, an i four French field- j under Lieutenant de Vaisseau Veriot, from bel l village, were battering away at the ' and had knocked over the parapet for a dis- tan f thirty feet, and the shells and rockets from the Dutch Folly and the ships in the river were, f 1 unseen distan I ting along the whole i f fortification rh ers were that the as- aa should be made at nine o'clock, but the men | ll night in the open; they were drawn yreak in positi and the emulation be- t 1 the French and English added to their im- pati ° However we may despise the Chinese itr juired no small amount of courage to continue t rowd those walls, and ply their hidden assail- ith guns, and jingalls, and spear- rockets, while those shells were bursting over their heads, and those guns were crumbling their embrasures, und the riflemen w dinging their deadly bullets through the loopholes ['wenty minutes before t sppol 1 time the French advanced, and of cou the English could not be kept back. They | crossed the ditch, and were clustered under the ill. before the scaling-ladders could be brought Meanwhile the Chin had been tumbling 1 all sorte of missiles, but when the Allies were upon the walls the great body of them retired. ) jown inte the city and fired from the they dedged behind the buildings on the ramparts, and aimed their cumbrous matchlocks fiom behind them A few single encounters took place, but the general move was to fire right and left, and hurry to the right to sweep the wall up- | toward the hill. Helter-skelter, away they lriving the Tartare down into the town and the wall, until, some hundred in front, they came upon a new body of the war went, befo them along bn rers, who were just accomplishing another es- he first attack only effected the destruction of the fortifications. The troops were not allowed to er the cit A week afterward orders were 1 for the assault upon the city itself. This was on the 5th January The Tunes correspond- ent sa‘ ‘At half past seven o'clock in the morning, while the rain was still falling, three columns of English red-coats penetrated into the city down three narrow streets, while a detachment of four hundred French blue-jackets, with two guns, were right. They are snd we must descend and fol- more. There is heavy firing on our left, and of course we hurry there first. It to our advancing along the wall all soon tost tos low if we would see ight, is only Colonel Lemon's men discharging their ri- fles. Let us spe «dl away to see what the General's They » doing meet with no resistance except from the intricacy of the streets. But they have lost their way, overshot their mark, and, in the labyrinth of narrew ways, can not find the ya- mun they are in quest of. Colonel Holloway’s de- tachment of four companies are more successful. They have marched rapidly down the street, and ey have paused for a few moments before a closed The of their axes, open a tion, as they do through a barricade which is erected a little beyond, but is gateway. It is only a passive resistance. with a few blow pioneera, wav through this obstruc The people look on from their doors, the Coolies carry water-buckets to and fro in the rear of as though nothing un- v the troops arrive at reet strikes the Street “a Tine not manned al l the troops, just common were the cross-road where one of Benevolence and Love broad avenue in the map, a hovel-crowded alley, ten feet wide, in Here Colenel Holloway detaches Captain Parke, with two ccmpanies, to the left, with in- structions to advance and seize the treasury, while he leads the rest of his men round te the right. A hundred paces bring him in front of the yamun of Peh-kwei, the governor of the city and province. Like the front of all Chinese vamuns, it is a dismal square, with a wall on one side, whereon a gigantic beast is painted. ‘The vast docrs of the yamun, whereon two great figures like Gog and Magog are daubed, front this monstrous effigy. This is the place indicated in the Colonel's instructions, ‘Quick !’ is the word. A rush from the pioneers, and the unbarred doors move open with unexpect- ‘Front form!’ cries the the red4coats are four abreast, and ad- vancing at the double up a broad granite-paved in the middle of an immense ed ease Colonei, and in a moment causeway cour.-y ard trees and shrubs on either side the causeway, low buildins forming the right and left sides, and a huge barn-shaped pavilion closing the square in front. In obedience to a few words and a few ces- tu sentries are thrown out, apd, while the main body is vet hurrving on, every spot is guarded.” The su ss of the attack wa complete. We haye already stated that the whole « ity was occu- pied almost without resistance, and that the Gov- ernor Military Commandant was reinstalled in his pr ler the authority of the British and French Plenipetentiari Our picture will tell the re- mainder of th te rhe other illustration may be best described in the language of Mr. Wur in, the London Jllus- rated News correspondent, who was, as we said, one of the principal actors in the trage dy depicted. He Says: ‘*On the morning of the 14th, at about 10 A.M., the second gig of the Banterer gun-boat left the vessel with a crew consisting of eleven men and the gun- ner, accompanied by Lieutenant-( ‘ommanding Bed- ford Pim, myself, and bumboat-man, as interpreter —in all fifteen. The object of the expedition was partly recreation and partly information. We pro- ceeded about a couple of miles up a winding creek, opposite Hich Island, and brought up near the town of Sai-Lau, 13,000 inhabitants, which the men-of-war's boats had visited prev iously. Two men were left in charge of the boat; the remainder landed. Nothing suspicious was observed, and we passed quietly and unmolested into the town. A Celestial told our bumboat-man that further up we should find a Mandarin located, which induced Lieutenant Pim to go in search of him. Upon ar- riving at the house the bird had flown, leaving be- hind him papers, books, hats, and arms. ‘*On quitting the house we proceeded straight to- ward the boat, passing the usual crowd of natives, who did not show any signs of hostility. But, just as we got in sight of the boat, we descried a num- ber of ‘braves,’ backed by the populace, pelting the two men left in charge of the boat with brick- bats. Lieutenant Pim, with some of his men, charged at this mob, and thereby made good the retreat of all the party to the boat; but no sooner were we in the boat than the enemy kept up a smart fire of jingalls, wounding one man in the leg; they brought a small cannon to bear upon us; the balls whistled over our heads, others struck the boat, and the brickbats fell like hail; the yells, screams, and gesticulations of the infuriated mob were truly ap- palling. Our fire must have made some havoc as the masses were so dense. The creek being both narrow and shallow, paddles were used to propel the boat, the Chinese cx their attacks from the banks. Our men, however, managed to keep their assailants at bay until they reached a point ntinuin where a large tree and a group of houses, standing on the bank, afforded our enemies cover: the brick- bats from the house-tops and jingalls from the beach rained death and destruction upon us. The gun- ner and two men were shot dead upon the spot, the former sitting next to me. wounded. Their sharp cries of agony were heart- rending, as they received a bullet, or rather jagged slug, and dropped the paddle they were no longer able to hold. At length, losing the means of locomotion, the boat came to a stand-still. Dur- ing the whole of the above trying period Lieu- tenant Pim was standing on the top of the stern- sheets of the boat, encouraging his men, and oc- casionally shooting at the enemy, the ammunition being handed to him by myself. He had been wounded early, but I did not know until afterward that he had been hit in six places. Under these circumstances it is not to be wondered at that the men who were able decided to leave the boat, and try to escape an inevitable death (for these ‘ braves’ give no quarter) by crossing a paddy-field, at the edge of which they might be seen from the Nankin. But Lieutenant Pim refused to quit the boat, still standing up; he appeared to lead a charmed life amidst the thick hail of bullets. The interpreter, who had hitherto shown immense pluck, seeing all hopes over, set the example of plunging into the water, and gained the paddy-field ; while the boat was soon deserted by all but the dead and Lieuten- ant Pim, who urged me to run. I did so, and, from personal experience, can assure you that a paddy-field in its most muddy state is not the place any one would select for locomotion. Every step I was up to my knees in mud. I swam two creeks, and, in a fainting state, arrived at the river side, waving my red sash to the Nankin as a signal of distress. I believe I owe my safety, when once on shore, to my having on a Chinese dress, and being unarmed, for I don't possess a single weapon but a knife. Two more men were killed. I passed the body of one, Pim’s coxswain, shot through the back in two places. At last I had the happiness of see- ing the Nankin’s boats pulling off to our rescue. Lieutenant Pim stuck to the boat to the last, firing away as hard ashe could. At length the Chinese put off in their sampans, and he was compelled to retreat, using his last charge of powder to shoot their leader; which caused sufficient confusion to enable our gallant Pim to reach the paddy-field. The decapitation of the corpses took some time, and, thank Heaven! he was enabled to reach one of the Nankin’s boats, although closely followed by braves the whole way. Thus, out of a party of fifteen, five were killed, six severely wounded one since dead. It was very awful, but most pic- turesque. The Nankin received the wounded, and treated us all in the kindest manner. I turned in between blankets, as I was wet through with my aquatic feat and perfectly exhausted, but soon re- covered. “The boats of the Nankin, with a party of ma- rines, went up the creek and did a little ‘ pepper- ing ;’ but not a trace of our second gig was found, and only the headless trunk of one man was re- covered in the paddy-field. He was immediately buried on High Island. The next morning Cap- tain Stewart, of the Nankin, having in the mean time communicated with the Admiral, received his permission to attack Sai-Lau; and, admirable ar- rangements being completed, he proceeded to shell the town, and then landed a party of marines and Llue-jackets numbering about 250 men. They met with a most determined resistance, but succeeded in forcing their way into the town. The Mandarin soldiers swarmed—the hills were covered—but a few well-directed shells from the Nankin astonished them, and prevented them cutting off our retreat, as was their intention. The blue-jackets then set fire to the place ; but a Chinese town is rather diffi- cult to destrey, the houses being well built of splendid gray brick, and the roofs being the only part combustible. However, the smoke rose high in the air, and the ‘ brave army’ came safely out of the conflict with only four wounded. 17 he most melancholy part was to see the women, with small feet, trying to walk across the paddy-fields. They seemed to know that our men would not touch them, for they walked right past them. Some un- Several also were HARPER'S WEEKLY. fortunate children, likewise, having lost them- selves, were wandering about without parents. The loss on the side of the Chinese must have been great, for they at one time charged us, but were checked by a well-directed volley, and put to flight at the point of the bayonet. It is a mystery to me how they manage to hit with their jingalls, for they always fire from the loin, a3 you see in the sketch, and never from the shoulder, as we do. At the end of the creek, where they expected we would land, they had erected a battery of tubs filled with mud, into which they had placed heavy jingalls and brass 12-pounders. However, we dis- appointed them by landing in an entirely opposite direction. Thus ended the day of the 15th of De- cember. Next morning we went down to Hong Kong with the wounded. A very comfortable place was arranged for them on deck with poles, from which their cots were suspended, the whole covered with canvas, making quite a cozy room of it. We created quite a sensation in Hong Kong. The Banterers were received on board the /ercu/es hospital-ship, and are now doing well.” TREASURES OF THOUGHT. Ir thou hast thrown a glorious thought Upon life’s common ways, Should other men the gain have caught, Fret not to lose the praise. Great thinker, often thou shalt find, While folly plunders fame, To thy rich store the crowd is blind, Nor knows thy very name. What matters that, if thou uncoil The soul that God has given, Not in the world’s mean eye to toil, But in the sight of Heaven? If thou art true, yet in thee lurks For fame a human sigh; To Nature go, and see how works That handmaid of the sky. Her own deep bounty she forgets Is full of perms and seeds, Nor glorifies herself, nor sets Her flowers above her weeds. She hides, the modest leaves between, She loves untrodden roads; Her richest treasures are not seen sy any eye but God's. Accept the lesson. Look not for Reward; from out thee chase All selfish ends, and ask no more Than to fulfill thy place HELEN FLOYD. Hrtex FLoyp was sitting alone in her own chamber one warm May afternoon. The window was open, and there was just motion enough in the air to stir the flowering vines that clustered round the casement, and break the sunlight streaming through into flecks and spots and wavering lines ofradiance. A stray beam danced around the bent head of the young girl, now brightening into sunny splendor the brown shades of her hair, and then as some swaying branch swept it aside, pausing to glitter still more vividly on the golden frame of a miniature that lay in her hand. It was the face of a young, handsome man, full of eagerness and impulsive feeling, and stamped in every mobile feature with the impress of an ardent, passionate, sensitive, yet most loving and chival- rous nature. It was just such a face as women love, especially young and romantic women, to whom life is all poetry and passion. And indeed its original had long possessed all the warmth and tenderness, all the faith and trust of Helen Floyd's girlish heart. He had first wakened her power of loving, first quickened to new life and gladness the gentle spirit so unconscious before of its womanly quality and womanly needs ; and since then she had only lived in the joy of his love. Nevertheless there was little of joy at this time, either in her attitude or the expression of her face, as she gazed upon the picture of her lover. She sat upon a low seat, in a listless, crouching way, with a drooping head, and large sorrowful eyes that could scarcely see the miniature for the tears that dropped slowly, one by one, upon it, and upon the loose letters that lay in her lap. There was a listless dreariness, a hopeless sadness in her whole manner, that revealed the presence of some grief far deeper than any mere “ Trifles light as air which move Dissensions betwixt hearts that love.” A light knock at the door, by-and-by, startled her from her meditations, whatever they might have been, and she made an impulsive movement as if to hide the letters and the picture; but desisted immediately as a stately-looking lady entered the room, crossed it with a firm step, and seated her- self in an arm-chair opposite the girl. It was an old- fashioned, high-backed chair, its dark oaken frame rich with quaint carving, and its cushions of some antique, flowered stuff; and its whole effect seemed to harmonize well with the appearance of the lady who sat in it. She was tall and erect, not above middle age, with a face that was regular in its handsome outlines as a statue's, yet just as cold and proud; and an exceeding stateliness of dress and manner There could have been ne greater contrast than between her and the sorrowful, shrinking girl at her feet. Helen's tender, timid eyes had caught no ray from the calm, bright orbs that looked so steadily down upon her, and the delicate, girlish features with their loving, trustful expression, bore no single point of resemblance to the coldly-chiseled [Apri 3, 1858, face above her. Just as unlike were the inner countenances of the two, just as different were they in heart and mind, as in face and look; and yet the proud lady was Helen's mother, and Helen was her only daughter. There was no word spoken between them for a minute. Helen folded her hands upon her lap, and sat still without looking up; and Mrs. Floyd gazed at her quietly. Presently she said, in a calm, clear voice that accorded well with her face. ‘You are acting very strangely, Helen. I ex. pected to find this package all ready, according to your promise, and have given you more than sufii- cient time to prepare it. Yet here you are, dream- ing over those letters and that miniature still, and have not so much as copied the note which I left for you.” “ Because I can not, mamma, I can not!” the girl exclaimed with sudden passion, lifting up her heavy eyes with a half-resistant, half-appealing expression. ‘I never can send such a letter as that—so hard and cold, so false to myself—to Henry Arlington. I wonder how even you could write it, mamma!” “Then write for yourself,” said Mrs. Floyd, calmly. ‘Tell the truth in your own way. if mine does not suit your fastidiousness.” “ If I tell the truth in my own way, I shall say, Come back to me; I do not care what you have done, or what is said of you; I love you better a thousand times than ever before!’ ‘Which would be a modest and maidenly pro- ceeding,” Mrs. Floyd retorted, in the same icy tone; ‘*to say nothing of its exceeding wisdom and filial obedience.” “ But, mamma !"—Helen dropped her head upon her knees with a pitiful cry —* I do love him, I can not give him up! It will break my heart if you make me doit! Why must 1? why must I?” ‘*]T have answered that question so often, Helen, that it seems idle to do it again. Still if you can not understand yet, I will tell you once more all my reason for insisting upon saving you from ruin In the first place you are my only child, the one object I have in the world to love, and I can nat help loving you although I meet so little return.” ‘*Mamma, you are cruel to say that,” Helen in- terrupted, vehemently. ‘‘ You know I love you, as much as any daughter could. And you are not answering my question fairly.” “I intended,” said Mrs. Floyd, “ to answer it fairly and reasonably. You ask why you must give up Henry Arlington; I reply, because I am not willing to give you up to what would be the ruin of your happiness. Your prosperity, your well-being, your peace of mind, present and future, are the great concerns of my life. I have no other desire and purpose in living than to secure them as certainly as [ can; and for this reason I am willing to cause you a short-lived pain now, rather than to see all shipwrecked by a worthless man. No, do not interrupt me,” she continued, seeing Helen's cheeks flush, and her lips spring apart asif to make some reply. ‘‘ I know the protest you would make, and yet, in spite of your partial affection, he is not the less a worthless man. He is an undutiful son, an ungrateful nephew, a reckless spendthrift, a sellish, dissipated idler. He has so disgusted his uncle by his evil conduct, that Mr. Curtis has dis- inherited him; and now, instead of being heir to one of the finest estates in the country, he has no- thing but the few paltry acres of his mother’s farm, which I doubt not will all take wings to themselves even before his mother's death. In ad- dition, he neglects the duties of his profession for the sake of wild hunting parties, and all manner of senseless dissipation ; showing certainly no more regard for your reputation than his own. And, lastly, if all these evils did not exist, he is still, by reason of his violent and passionate temper, which knows no bounds when once it is excited, the last man in the world to whose care I would consent to intrust my only daughter.” “* You consented once,” Helen murmured, as her mother paused at last. ‘* Because I did not know him then as I do now,” was the reply. “ He had not yet revealed his true character.” “Oh, mamma!” Helen exclaimed, eagerly, “ that was his true character, he is good and noble as he seemed to us then; only now, he is not him- self. I know he has done wild things, and wrong things lately, but it was because they tormented him so—his mother and his uncle. Mr. Curtis is a stingy, tyrannical old man: you know he dis- inherited Henry only because he refused to leave me, and his profession, and every thing here, and go to be his uncle’s factor, his overseer, his slave, on a rice plantation in Georgia! Who could blame Henry for refusing? I should have despised him if he had gone, just for the sake of his uncle’s mon- ey! and so would you too, mamma! And yet, just as soon as you heard of his misfortune, you treated him so coldly, and would not let me see him, or even write to him; and is it any wonder that he was tortured and stung by every body’s cruelty, and driven into doing things that he never would have done otherwise? Oh, mamma, every body has been unjust to Henry, and now you are going to do the cruelest thing of all, and ruin him forever, maybe; when you might save him, if you would !” i She stopped, out of breath with her vehement speaking, and choking with passionate sobs which would come now. It seemed as if the hardest heart must have been moved by the fervor and earnestness of her remonstrance, the eloquence of her grief and supplication; but it had no effect whatever upon Mrs. Floyd. She smiled, half in pity, half in contempt, as one would smile at a child’s fleeting, unreasonable sorrow, when Helen, quite unable to control herself any further, hid her face and cried aloud, bitterly and despairingly. She did not disturb her until the first outburst of her weeping had exhausted itself; then she merely bent over her, and laid her hand upon her head, smoothing gently the tossed and disheveled hair, and caressing it as one would a grieved child’s. Helen did not yield to this unwonted tenderness

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Aprit 3, 1858.] at first. The blow had been too cruel, every nerve quivered too keenly with the agony to be soothed at once, even by any thing so rare and so precious as her mother’s caresses. But her nature was too childlike and too dependent to resist it long, as Mrs. Floyd very well knew ; and Helen presently lifted her head and laid it upon her mother’s knee, half in penitence, half in trust, but still more with an eager hope of some final relenting, that would restore happiness—even though after a long pro- bation—to herself and Henry. In this upspring- ing hope, and emboldened by the caressing touch which still lingered upon her throbbing temples, she ventured to make one more appeal, untried be- fore. ‘*Mamma, will you do this one thing for me ? and then indeed I will ask nothing more. try Henry for a while; do not make me give hiim up entirely, but let him have a hope of winning mo by-and-by, when he has atoned for all that he has done wrong. Ile will see the justice of being put upon probation—just as long and severe as you please, mamma, we can bear it—and [ know he will be so sorry that it will save him at once, an bring him back to himself, and the time will coms when you will be proud of Henry Arlington for your son! It is no matter if he has lost old Mr. Curtis’s wealth: he will make wealth for himself, if he only has an object to work for, a hope in the future. And I—oh, mamma! I will be so patient, so obedient ; I will love you as I never loved you before, if you will but grant us so mach mercy !” Poor Helen! How little she knew the rock she was trying to melt! All her innocent, hopeful pleading availed no more to turn Mrs. Floyd's pur- pose than a child's sand-fortifications would avail to check the progress of some great sea-wave. She began to feel it herself when she saw the hard look settle again upon her mother's face, the increase of stateliness with which she drew up her proud fig- ure in the fine old carved chair, and the dignified displeasure with which she removed her hand from Helen's hair, even before the words came which took away the last anchor of hope for the poor young heart. “It is impossible,” Mrs. Floyd said, frigidly, ‘to consider such a plan for a moment. It was undignified and unmaidenly in you to propose it, and I should do injustice to all prudence and pro- priety by acceding to it. No man shall stand on probation for my daughter's hand. If he has once proved himself unworthy—and Henry Arlington has—no after-conduct can restore to him what he has forfeited. This is my decision, once and for all, Helen; and I must request, nay, command, since nothing else will avail, that this subject be silenced between us forever. I myself will write to Mr. Arlington, and restore to him all tokens of an engagement which ceases from this moment, never to be renewed; and you will understand that henceforth all communication, of whatever nature, is at an end between you.” She stooped, as she spoke the final sentence, to gather up the letters which still lay in her daugh- ter’s lap. Helen suffered her in silence, but her grasp tightened upon the miniature, as if she could not resign that without another effort. Mrs. Floyd did not appear to notice her, however. She tied up the letters composedly, and placed them in an envelope which she took from the table; then said, simply, “I am ready for the picture now, Helen, and the ring ;” and Helen, knowing how vain and use- less resistance would be, could but obey, though it was like a rending of body and spirit to yield up these last tokens of her life’s happiness, so brief and so bright! She turned away from her mother and walked to the farther end of the room, while Mrs. Floyd busied herself in putting up the little package and writing the cruel letter which was to accompany it. Nor did she look around, or speak again, even in reply to Mrs. Floyd’s question, “‘ Did she wish to see the letter she had written?” until that lady left the room. But when she was alone with her own sorrow and grievous sense of wrong the bitter flood broke all bounds of restraint; and for long hours, till the May afternoon waned into twilight and darkness, Helen Floyd gave herself up to all the abandonment of her despair, in passionate cry- ing and wild words of resistance and rebellion, which, in truth, had no purpose, but only served to relieve the pent-up storm of her soul. It was no mere romantic or sentimental episode with her, this engagement with Heary Arlington. Young as she was, she had had already a choice among many lovers; but her heart had gone out to him in a self-renouncing, all-absorbing love, which was returned by him in kind and degree, as fully as a man can ever return such entire devo- tion. Her mother had given her sanction to ev- ery thing in the first place; for Henry Arlington was an eligible mate, in all important respects, for her beautiful but slenderly-portioned daughter. His family and connections were unexceptionably aristocratic, and his fair prospects, as the only heir to his rich uncle, more than satisfied Mrs. Floyd's ambition. So the course of true love ran as smoothly as a quiet stream through summer mead- ows for many months ; and Helen found this earth such a sweet paradise to her that she scarcely thought or dreamed of any other. The first shadow was cast by Mr. Curtis, a cap-" tious old invalid, who had so little pleasure in his own life that he could not bear to see others enjoy it any more. He said that Henry idled his time in foolish passages with a sweet-heart; that his profession was a mere excuse for doing nothing sensible, and so forth, ending, finally, with a de- mand that he should absent himself entirely, for the space of a year, from his promised bride, and go to take charge of some Georgian plantations be- longing to the old man. Henry refused, of course, indignantly ; and then followed a series of petty persecutions from his mother and uncle, the con- clasion te which was a threat of disinheritance un- less he should accede to their wishes. It was at this time that Mrs. Floyd began sud- denly to discover many objectionable traits in the Just young man, unknown hitherto, and to impose lim- its and restraints upon his intercourse with Helen which his pride and sense of right could ill sub- mit to. He said and did things, perhaps wrong in themselves, but not to be wondered at under the circumstances, which still further widened the breach ; until by the time it became known that Mr. Curtis had really disinherited his nephew, Mrs. Floyd had fully made up her mind that Henry Ar- lington was no longer a desirable husband for her daughter, and that the engagement must be dis- solved without delay. How her determination succeeded in the accom- plishment of her purpose, as far as Helen was con- cerned, we have already seen. As for Henry Ar- lington, he could not submit as patient) to a de- cree so cruel and unjust. There was a stormy scene in Mrs. Floyd's drawing-toom the day after she had returned his letters and miniature and the betrothal ring which Helen had vowed to wear until his hand should place another in its stead. Ile demanded to see her himself, and learn from her own lips if she consented to this thing; but it was no part of Mrs. Floyd's policy to suffer such a meeting, and all his wrathful indignation availed nothing against her cool persistence in denying it l’oor Ilelen was a prisoner in her own room, beat- ing wildly against her bonds, but and he just was fain to go away at last, carrying back nothing but an increase of the rage and bitterness which he had brought with him. Helen from her eager watch at the caught just one glimpse of his white face, rigid with fearful passion, as the horse wheeled sharp); ran is Vainly; window round a turn in the avenue. Then he bounded on in a nrad gallop, down through the double line of poplars that stretched to the gate, over its bars with one wild leap, and out into the open road, where even her straining eyes could soon no longer reach him, That night Helen was stricken with brain-fever, and for days and weeks had no consciousness of any body or any thing around her. She only lived over the agony of the past, in one continuous, cease- less repetition saW only the white face of her lover as that one glance had revealed it to her— heard only the sound of the flying hoofs forever ringing and echoing in her brain. Whether any remorse for the part she had acted and the misery s! ad wrought, or any momentary relentings from her hard purpose, ever entered inte Mrs, Floyd's heart, | can not dare to say. I only know they were never made evident. She nursed her daughter night and day, with tireless devotion, as though she would bring her back from the very gates of the grave; and her care, under God's provi- dence, was finally rewarded by Helen's recovery, although there had been at times but little hope of such a result. Even when the danger was past, and health and strength were com'ng back slowly but surely, she was still the most faithful nurse, watchful, and patient, and tender, as the most lov- ingly-demonstrative mother could have been. But she never made any allusion to the cause of her ill- ness, never mentioned Henry Arlington’s name, and least of all showed any sign of having changed or swerved from her first determination. Nor did Helen speak again of what had passed. After the delirium of fever was gone Henry Ar- lington’s name never passed her lips, and her own suffering, whatever it might have been, was all shut in her own heart. She rose from her sick-bed like a pale shadow of her former self, silent, droop- ing, and spiritless ; but in all things obedient to the word or wish of her mothe?. Whatever her mo- ther required was submitted to mechanically, what- ever she requested was granted in the same way. At her wish, she went again into the old life of social observances, visiting, party-going, and the like ; and as the summer advanced, consented to go from one gay watering-place to another, just as Mrs. Floyd desired. Nor was it all mere outward docility. Helen's was one of those sensitive, dependent natures which have neither power to resist suffering nor to spring up with any new strength after it. She had been crushed, body and mind, by one blow, and she did not try to rise from her utter prostration. Sub- dued and broken-hearted, she was but a passive puppet in her mother’s hands to be worked as she saw fit. Once, however, she did make a faint at- tempt at resistance. It was when Mr. Emerson Dennis, a young planter whose wealth was suffi- cient to satisfy Mrs. Floyd's desires, made propo- sals for her hand. She refused at first with some energy, to marry at all—Mr. Emerson Dennis, or any one else, be the suitor who he might. But Mrs. Floyd was no way daunted by this outbreak ; she had conquered in a harder struggle, and she did not fear for victory now. So it ended just as she chose that it should. Helen gave up the contest in a sort of weary in- difference, saying to herself, ‘‘ What matter? I! can not help myself, and it is only for a little while. Perhaps I may die all the sooner.” ' The engagement was made, therefore, and an- nounced; and Mr. Dennis, who had scarcely wit enough to know whether he got a willing bride or not, came and went, and gazed at Helen in silent admiration for hours together, and brought her all manner of beautiful and costly gifts which she took without even looking at; and, finally, begin- ning to wich for something a little more satisfac- tory, arranged with Mrs. Floyd for an early wed- ding-day. Helen submitted to her mother in this also, as in every thing else; so the marriage was settled to take place in the first week of September, little more than three months after poor Henry Arlington had been so heartlessly dismissed. Helen was sitting in her chamber the afternoon before the wedding, on the same low seat, and in the same place, as on that afternoon in May when for the last time she dreamed over Henry's minia- ture and letters. There had been little, if any, change in the aspect of the room since then, There was the same maidenly white bed with its graceful fringed curtains, the dressing-bureau strewn with dainty toilet appliances, the round table fall of pretty trifles, the what-not loaded with books. HARPER'S WEEKLY. The same engravings hung upon the wall, the same delicate Bohemian vase bore its burden of lovely flowers upon the work-stand near her, and the antique carved chair stood in the same place as when her mother had sat upon it, as on a judg- on her lover, There was little change in Ielen’s ment-seat, to pass sentence ippearance cither, except when you looked more closely, and saw how white she had grown, and how vividly the slender veins were traced upon her thin hands and transparent temples. She sat in the same ping way, with the same sorrow in her eves only now there was more wearin less assion and lessdesire. A heap of white rib mh in her lap for the making of bridal favors, and through an open door, leading into an inner room, were seen glimpses of gauzy vails, and soft wl satin folds, and the many laces, and ribbons, and flowers, for the bridal toilet jut Helen's thoughts were far away from all these things, and neither w t} \ j any of th l r timid 1 t bride. A vague presentiment had tak: posses of her heart, and a wild sound was rinving her ears—the echo of flying hoofs wl 1 had haunte her brain ever since she watched Henry Arli ton's furious gallop away from tl! house three months ago. She tried to drown to put it awa from thought and memory; but t s l can back with all the vividn of real ntil Ilel at last, sprang to the window, almost | ving that she would see the well-remembered e enacted again But there was not a living thi in sight, and not a sound, even of rustling lea, or fallir water, stirred the motionless stillness of the calm September afternoon She leaned her head against the sash in a sort of vague disappointment, and then the ecl which had been lost for a moment, returned again, fai and far away at first, but gradually i in with a sense of nearness, until she no longer dou ed its actual existence elsewhere than in her own mind. It grew rapidly more and more distinct and Iieclen, in such an eagerness of expectation as she had not felt for months, leaned far out of the window, straining every faculty of sight and hea ing to seize his first appearance For she knew well who the horseman was, as well by the mys terious warning in her soul as by the e of her own eyes, when, at last, she saw Llenry Arling ton riding, in her full view, up the poplar avenue toward the house She waited until he had passed almost directly under her window, and then until the projecting eaves of the piazza hid him from her sight as he the front entrance Then, without pausing to think of what she was going to do, but full of a strange excitement which led her on almost without her own will, she hurried out of the crept noiselessly down stairs, and, before any one rode on to room, else had seen the unwelcome visitor, herself met him at the door, and l.4 him into the house. Her mother had gove out for a drive, the draw- ing-room was empty and silent, and there was no one to interrupt the strange interview thus ob- tained between two hearts that had so loved, and so cruelly been wronged. Alas, that there was so little hope now—so little comfort or peace to be won from such an interview! It was too late for re- proaches, or explanations, or prayers—too late for any thing but separation, final and entire, and mu- tual forgetfulness—if that were possible ! And yet he poured out passionate entreaties he knelt at her feet—he clasped her in his arms, claiming her for his own by all the sacredness of love and truth, and demanded that she should flee from this false marriage and go with him, while there was yet time to escape from her own life- long wretchedness, and redeem him from utter ruin. He told her how he had spent himself since they were parted in vain endeavors to see her again, or communicate with her in some way; how he had been twice denied admittance to the house ; how his letters had been returned unopen- ed; how he had striven, by all ways and means, open and secret, but to send one word to her, and yet in all had failed. And now, when by a very Providence he had been allowed to find her, would she have the miserable weakness and cowardice— would she dare to remain, and perjure her soul for- ever with lying vows to another man! And so, from one wild adjuration to another— with mingled threatenings and supplications, tears and reproaches—until Helen, who had neither physical nor moral strength to front such storms, and whose short-lived energy had already given way to weakness and terror, fell down, fainting, at his feet—crushed by a violence which she could neither resist nor endure. He was as wild in his sorrow and self-reproach then as he had been before in his denunciations of her; and could not accuse himself sufficiently, or lavish enough tenderness her form. The swoon lasted but a little while, how- ever; it was only a momentary suspension of vital She upon unconscious powers, and Helen soon recovered again rose up presently from the sofa where he had laid her, while he was still chafing and kissing her hands in his remorseful love, and tried to leave him; for she knew that she must put an end to this interview, or she could not keep her reason much longer. But he held her back, pleading, “One word more, Helen! Let me ask you once again for the very last time! It is not too late—we are alone yet—rrill you go with me ?” and waited for her answer with such a look in his face as a pris- oner might have worn who waited for the word which should bring him death or life. But Helen shrank away from the look, and hid her eves, with a piteous cry: ‘1 can not—I dare not, Henry! Ob, why will you kill me so cruelly when you see I am dying already ?” Then he released her. ‘1 will not, Helen,” he said, with a strange, forced calmness. “It is all over now, and you shall never be troubled again by any word of mine. I will only speak one more. Good-by !” He stooped and kissed her, as if involuntarily, and then walked firmly past her out of the draw- 8 { 8 Lielen Ike lw oncer | The shimmering vail, and bridal flower old chest seen until the fashion of them was forgotten. And Mr. Dennis's pe arls and dias ind the away in some or bureau, there t nonds, and multi nous costly gifts, fi to Oak | ring and miniature had returned to him Neither did Helen die, the in alternations of franti Law? even as poor Llenry Arlingt anguls blank, drear endt through desolate, despair ehe prayed for de ith to put an mem ory and feeling. She lived on aimless years, heart-broken and hopeless ; and her mother—ah, well! there is little need to dwell j the retribution of a proud and evil heart I ha ' told a true history, and the ing. moral needs ne show AN OLD STORY Kxer-perr in | } I follow a path I know: I followed it In the bright days |} I The pathway led to a forest bower In the leafy depths of Ju Where the gay winds sang and the flowers In the light of the harvest Ill The winds sang sweet, but sweeter still A voice san ut my sick The voice of a girl I dearly loved And who should have been my brid I\ She married another, cold and grand And they live in splendid stat He jingles his seals, and waves his han A man of wealth and “ weight y But I thought when, the other dar, we met Her heart returned to the day When a boy and girl went hand i Through the leafy woodiand w VI We sat all alone for l r t Then I ros nd went “ ; ; i } | . And came to the woodland path | kn In the twilight wan r I Knee-deep in leaves, in the autumn wood I live int outh or more ; And the leafless trees are robed in green, As they were in the years before! Vill And here, in the silent forest bower A maiden sits by my side A maiden I loved, and who loved vria "Who should have been my; — -

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ae b 220 Misrellawy. WOMAN'S INFLUENCE OVER MAN s to manage a man for rhe lovely {ur instant a woman tri herself she has begun to ruin him creeper climes in its f bleness with grace to the stately t itgrow, as if to protect or conceal its 8 it spee ilw ce stroys what it would other t When the serpent had persuaded Eve tha he should induce her hus- band to take her adv and become as knowing as herself. she no longer felt herself made for him, and both for God, b rather that he was made to admire } Wi he prevailed, they soon bick- ered about their right places, no doubt, for God's law was | igh f by bet One grand purpose of woman's power over man’s heart, now that both are fall 1ance of man’s self-respect. A ma rne-hearted woman aims to istain ver ha woman can love and rever I mutually put each other in nind of what each ought to be to the other. To the formation of manly character, the love and rev- ! f the virtuous f-mi » character is essen- 1. O must see in the other's love the reflec- tior the chara desi Hence the pertinac- ity of true love and reverence often recovers a char- lost forever. If once then farewell the love that r: then farewell the acter that would otherwis mutual respect depart, sn alone rectify what is wt heart-rest, without whi h life becomes a delirium andanagony. If it be the faculty of woman to love more tenaciously than man, her might surpasses his so far as she is wise in showing it. In express- ing lo without at the same time indicating her faith in the inherent dignity of man, however ob- ured, she only re pels him to a worse condition, * a reckless sense of his own worthless- ness, together with a hatred of her forgiving patron- uge. When man hates hi he will love If, what can he love ? Give him time, an the soul that clings to him to save him THE GREAT Mi. CAMPBELI vet, after he had acquired fame, went i Highlands, indulging some curiosity to know whether his name had found its way over the mountains, and into the glens of his native land On one occasion he modestly inquired of an old lady if they knew any thing of Mr. Campbell in that quarter? *‘ Know him,” she said, “every one knows Maister Campbell here.” Now, thought the poet, this istrue fame! ‘‘ Iam Mr. Campbell,” he s The old lady exclaimed Vhat! and are you really and truly the great Mr. Campbell ?” The poet began to qualify the word “ great’’ be- fore he would appropriate it to himself. This artled th l matron, and led her to ask, But are y tl Mr. Campbell of Latta- koo?” This question disselved all the vision, THE MAN WITH THE IRON MASK Amone the many stories the ‘‘ Iron Mask,” there i In the early } which cluster around which I can not re- days of that dreary 1ich ihe prisoner, wheth- er from fancy or memo was of handsome fa complexion, and bea itiful voice sist giving V captivity—those days in w thus described, ‘‘ as , middle height, brown skin, clear there was a love- ly young lady in the fortress of St. Marguerite ; she was the daughter of one of the officials, and her name was Julia de Bonparte rhe mysterious prisoner fell in lo seen from his window ; with this lady, whom he had and what feminine heart yal, and masked pris- oner? The father gave his consent—they were warried at au altar erected in the dungeon, and the devoted wife cheered the gleom of the weary lifetim I'wo little infant sons could not, how- be retained near the unfortunate parents, and were sent secretly to Corsica under their maternal lame of Bonparte could resist a persecut From them sprung the Bona- In the course na, it was mentioned partes, who are therefore Bourbons. of a conversation at St. He to Napoleon by a gentleman present that a person had come to him to tell the above story, and to de- nonstrate from thence that Napoleon was a lineal descendant of the Iron Mask, and thus the legiti- mate heir of Louis XIII The gentleman had lauched at the whole story, which made the nar- ator very angry he inaint ined that the marriage mld easily be verified by the registers of a parish of Marseilles, which he named The Emperor said that he had heard the same story; and that such was the love of the marvelous, that it would have been easy to have 1 something of the kind for the credulous multitude.—Miss Brewster's Lette rs fi ( substantiates Lr«e flakes of the earth, the seemi ll unperceived upon important events of life snow gathers together, no single flake that is add- succeed one another so are our habits formes ed to the pile produces a sensible change; no single action creates, however it may exhibit, a man’s char- acter; but as the tempest hurls the avalanche down the mountain, and overwhelins the inhabitant and his habitation, so passion, acting upon the elements of mischief, which pernicious habits have brought together by imperceptible accumulation, may over- throw the edifice of truth and virtue. MODERN VANDALISM Mr. MAcAuLay, a few years since, uttered at Edinburgh the following impressive sentences on the Vandalism then prevalent, and not unlikely to be hereafter revived, in parts of Europe: ‘'I re- er said | tha t Adam Smith and Gibbon ud told us that th would never again be a de- truction of civilization by barbarians. The flood, they said, would no more return to cover the earth; ind they seemed to reasor stly, for they compared the immense strength of the vilized part of the world with the weakness of that part which remain- ed savage, and asked from whence were to come those Huns, and from whence were to come those Vandals, who were again Alas! lid not octnr to | bh. GIG to destroy civilization ? hem that civilization it } ilization it- self might engender the barbarians who should de- stroy it. It did not occur to them that, in the very heart of great capitals—in the very neighborhood of splendid palaces, and churches, and theatres, and libraries, and museums, vice and ignorance and misery might produce a race of Huns fiercer than those who marched under Attila, and Vandals more bent on destruction than those who followed Gen- zeric.” IDLE VISITS Tue idle are a very heavy tax upon the indus- trious when, by frivolous visitations, they rob them of their time. Such persons beg their daily hap- piness from door to door, as beggars their daily bread, and, like them, sometimes meet with a re- buff. A mere gossip ought not to wonder if we evince signs that we are tired of him, seeing that we are indebted for the honor of his visit solely to the circumstance of his being tired of himself. He sits at home until he has accumulated an insup- portable load of ennui, and then sallies forth to dis- tribute it among his acquaintances, HOME DIFFICULTIES. Tur house-mother has her troubles aye, be she ever so gifted with that blessed quality of taking them lightly and cheerfully. It is not pleasant for lazy ladies to get breakfast over at that regular early hour which alone sets a household fairly a going for the day; nor for unarithmetical ladies, who have always reckoned their accounts by six- pences, to put down each item and persevere in balancing periodically receipts and expenditure ; nor for weakly, nervous, s¢ lf-engrossed ladies to rouse themselves sufficiently to put their house in | order and keep it so, not by occa ional spasmodic ‘setting to rights,” but by a general, methodical overlooking of all that is going on therein. Yet, unless all this is done, it is in vain to insist on early rising, or grumble about waste, or lecture upon neatness, cleanliness, and order. The serv- ants get to learn that ‘ Missis is never in time!” and laugh at her complaints of their unpunctuali- ty. They see no use in good management or avoid- ance of waste; ‘* Missis never knows about any thing.” She may lecture till she is weary about neatness and cleanliness— “Just put your head into her room and see!” For all moral qualities, good temper, truth, kindliness, and above all, con- scientiousness, if these are deficient in the mistress it is idle to expect them from servants, or children, or any members of the family circle. THE PINKS OF PROPRIETY ‘‘THere is a set of people,” says the manly Dr. Chalmers, in one of his sermons, ‘‘ whom I can not bear—the pinks of fashionable propriety—whose | every word is precise, and whose every movement | is unex eptionable ; but who, though versed in all the categories of polite behavior, have not a par- ticle of soul or of cordiality about them. We allow that their manners may be abundantly correct. |’ There may be elegance in every gesture, and grace- | fulness in every position ; not a smile out of place, | and not a step that would not bear the measure- ment of the severest scrutiny. This is all very fine ; but what I want is the heart and the gayety of social intercourse—the frankness that spreads ease and animation around it—the eye that speaks affability to all, that chases timidity from every bosom, and tells every man in the company to be confident and happy. This is what I conceive to be the virtue of the text, and not the sickening formality of those who walk by rule, and would reduce the whole of human life to a wire-bound system of misery and constraint. A LITTLE DISSERTATION ON KISSING Tue first oddity that comes in my way is a re- mark by some one that “kisses are like creation, because they are made of nothing, and they are very good”’—a very sensible remark, by-the-way and the next is the definition of a ‘* buss.”” Thus buss, to kiss; rebuss, to kiss again; pluribus, to kiss without regard to sex; sillybus, to kiss the hand instead of the lip; blunderbuss, to kiss the wrong person; omnibus, to kiss all the persons in the room ; erebus, to kiss in the dark. Evidently the country girl who came to “town” had these definitions in her head. A young gentleman was to escort her a mile or two, and not wishing to walk, remarked, ‘‘ Mary, let's take a ‘bus.’” But Mary, blushing to the eyebrows, drew back, and, with wounded modesty, replied, ** Oh, George! not rs right here in the street CULTIVATED WOMEN Sueripan said, beautifully, ‘Women govern us ; let us render them perfect ; the more they are enlightened, so much the more shall we be. On the cultivation of the mind of women depends the wisdom of men. It is by women that Nature writes on the hearts of men.” A LADY ON CRINOLINE. War does all this grumbling spirit arise from ? My own conviction is that it is not at our taste in dress, but from a shabby feeling. The men like to see their wives and children well dressed, but they want this pretty picture without paying for it. There is nothing that the gentlemen are fonder of looking at; but, grumble as they like, they must pay for it. But my subject now is the crinoline. It is the crinoline that is the subject of the clergy- man, the lecturer, the press, the fop, the rake, and the buffoon. And why all this? It can not be on the ground of cost, for the price is only 3s. 6d. for a good one. Charles meets Joe; the theatre for a lounge. | for two they turn into Joe pays 5s. admission They then turn in for a lobster supper and porter, for which Charles pays 4s. Afterward they go and have some brandy, which costs 2s. 6d. And they have smoked 1s. 6d. worth of cigars dur- ing the evening. It is in this way the men spend their money, which is as much ours as theirs, if we had our rights. What they spend upon them- selves out-of-doors in three or four days in this loose matter-of-course way would buy a handsome dress for me. The word ‘‘ extravagance” is con- stantly ringing in our ears. If we chance to take up an illustrated paper, the same idea is pictorially ——— HARPER'S WEEKLY. — brought under our eye in every variety of form. The disinterested editor of the Sunday newspaper ‘*bringeth forth out of his treasure things new and old,” by placing a Bible and a crinoline next to next. A lady chanced to lift her petticoat with her dress a little too high, and Mr. Punch heard two young costermongers say, ‘‘ Bill, what is that?” **T don’t know, unless it be fire-works!” Canany thing be more insulting ? in dress is seen, and what the men spend is not, we are to be grumbled at, persecuted, and called ex- travagant. Suppose we knew what they spend upon themselves, and suppose we were to criticise them as they do us, how would they like it? Because what we spend CONVERSATION Tux art of conversation consists in the exercise You must originate, and you must sympathize— you must possess at the same time the habit of communicating and listen- ing. The union is rare, but irresistible. of two fine qualities. ORIGIN OF WATTS'’S HYMNS Wuewy Dr. Watts was a young man and a can- didate for the ministry, the congregation in which he worshiped with his father’s family being one of those which did not eschew all psalmody, were accustomed, of course, to sing from the rude col- lections of Sternhold, or Barton, or other like rhymesters, such as existed inthatday. The col- lection did not come up to the standard which the devotional feeling and poetic taste of the young student craved, and, having hinted his discontent, he was challenged to produce something better. Accordingly, on a subsequent Lord’s day, the serv- ice was concluded with the following stanzas, which if mentally contrasted by the reader with the mon- strous doggerel the congregation were doubtless accustomed to, will be perused with a redoubled glow of pious and poetic exultation. This is a gen- uine Gospel lyric, and the joy with which pious hearts instantly welcomed it attests the peculiar and unequaled merit of Watts as a sacred song wruer: **Behold the glories of the Lamb Amidst his Father's Prepare new honor And songs befors Let elders worship at His feet The Church adore around With vials full of odors sweet And harps of sweeter sound rhose are the prayers of the saint And these the hymns they raise Be endl blessings paid Sa 1 lory, joy, remain Forever on y 1 Thou hast rede our souls with bl Hast set the ers ft - Hast made us kings and priests to God And we shall reign with Thee. The worlds of Nature and of Gr Are put beneath Thy pow’ rhen shorten the delaying And bring the promis’d how Such is the tradition, and we have no reason to question its truth. But more remarkable than the composition of the hymn is the alacrity with which it is said to have been received. The attempt was an innovation, and the poet was a prophet of their own country ; but, to the devotional instinct of the worshipers, so welcome was this ‘“ new song,” that they entreated the author to re peat the service— till, the series extending Sunday after Sunday, a sufficient number had been contributed to form the basis of a book ALPHABET OF PROVEKI A GRAIN of prudence i r ap l craft DBoasters are cousins to liars Confession of a ta n alt am Denying a fuult d it Envy shooteth at others and woundeth hersel Foolish fear doubles danger God reaches us good things by our « and He has hard work who has nothing t It costs more to revenge wrongs thar ul Knavery is the worst trad« Learning makes a man fit company for hi if Modesty is a guard to virtue Not to hear conscience is the way to silenc« One hour to-day is worth two to-morrow Proud looks make foul work in fair face Quiet conscience gives quiet sleep Richest is he t wants least Small faults indulged are little thieves that let in gre I The boughs that ar most hang lowest Upright walking is sure walking Virtue and happiness are mother and daughte: Wise men make more opportunities than they find, You never lose by doi g a good turn Zeal without knowledge is fire without lig EMBLEM OF FRIENDSHIP. Trees with double flowers are tco often the em- blem of fri ndship there is ple nty of blossoms, but no fruit. TO A FAIR MAIDEN Fat maiden! when I look at thee I wish I could be young and free; But th at once, ah! who could be? THE CARNIVAL IN PIEDMONT. Rome and Paris have been from time immemo- rial the especial seats of carnival ; every one is fa- miliar with the joyous extravagances, the gay cos- tumes, the harum-scarum balls, which celebrate the modern saturnalia in the capitals of ancient and modern civilization. Our engraving bears witness that other cities are now endeavoring to compete for the pre-eminence in the matter of joyeuseté in carnival time ; it represents a scene in the princi- pal street of the chief city of Piedmont—Turin Those of our readers who have seen Turin need not be told that the Via di Po is the Broadway of that fine city. Many may remember that among the streets which cut the Via di Po at richt ancles none can compare, in point of eminence and splen- dor, with the Via di Pesta. At the intersection of _ [Apri 3, 1858. these two streets the fast men of Turin perpetrated one of the best carnival burlesques that have ever been seen. A timber frame-work, upward of thirty feet in diameter, rose from the gallery, or balcony, at the second story of the houses on the Via di Po, taper- ing upward, and bearing in form an exact resem- blance to the metallic enlargements at present in favor among ladies. The circles and cross-bars of the modern hoop were morticed into the walls of the adjacent houses, and the whole fabric must have cost considerable labor and some money. It was covered with a most brilliant petticoat, white, with pink flowers and garlands of roses, and sur- mounted by the Brobdignagian effigy of a modern élégante, with an ermine muff, a voluminous corsage, and the very smallest of bonnets. Between the hem of the garment end the top of the balustrade a space was left, and a platform, which, it is said, would hold 300 persons, was occupied by the con- trivers of this huge burlesque, chiefly artists, who, armed with fishing-rods and lines, let down baskets of bonbens to within a tantalizing distance of the mouths and noses of the promenaders below. The exhibition took place on Dimanche Gras—a day, according to our Protestant notions, singular- ly selected for such a spectacle. Before daylight on that Sunday morning the upholsterers succeed- ed the carpenters in their work. With the early dawn men were seen scrambling over the rafters and beams which composed the understructure of the fashionable lady. To them mountains of mus- lin and flowers were hoisted up from beneath, and for several hours there was nothing heard but the nailing—horrid cruelty !—of the petticoats of this Goddess of Crinoline to her too substantial sup- ports. As soon as breakfast was over the fun of the day began. People thronged the streets ; and after the customary carnival procession had pass- ed the inauguration of the statue began. The fish- ing, represented in our engraving, from under the hem of Madame Crinoline’s petticoat, became ex- tremely lively. The nibbles were numerous, but it seemed difficult to get a good bite — not on ac- count of the shyness of the fish, but because the bait was rarely allowed to come within less than a tantalizing distance of their jaws. Numerous car- riages, full of the most grotesque masks, and sev- eral extremely comical cavalcades, passed up and down the street, confining themselves, for the most part, to the Via di Po, which was the centre of the diversions of the day. There seem to have been but few persons at Tu- rin who did not, in some way or other, participate in the enjoyments of the day. It is said that the King was in the midst of the revelers, disguised in a domino. A number of young men dressed as millers, with sacks full of lime beans, belonged to the first families of Piedmont, yet engaged in good- natured conflicts with the populace without the least fear of compromising their dignity. The ed- itor of the chief newspaper of Turin was “ around” in the garb of an inquisitor, with a body-guard— probably composed of printers and ‘‘ devils’? — in the dress of Croats. It is even whispered that the great diplomatist — Count Cavour — improved the occasion so far as to share in the revelry in the cos- tume of Atlas, bearing, not the world, but Pied- mont, on his shoulders. For some reason or other we have never been able to realize the European carnival here. In cities like New York we have so many brutal, ruf- fianly rowdies, of foreign and native origin, that any thing like a saturnalia would open a door to murders, rapes, and savage assaults. These per- sons have no notion of license without brutal black- guardism. Were the Roman or Paris carnival at- tempted here, each of the crimes enough, men would commit before the night was over, to justi- fy his being hanged half a dozen times over. And the knowledge of the existence of such a class with such propensities effectually restrains decent, quiet people here from taking part in any public festivi- ties which are not thoroughly under the control of the poli e. The carnival at Paris is undoubtedly a scene of much disorder and vice. But it may well be ques- tioned whether the vice would not oceur independ- ently of the carnival. For a certain class of society the carnival is the occasion of a general renuncia- tion of the laws of morality and the restraints of decency. But it is to he remarked that this class are not remarkable for their respect for morality and decency at any time. For another, and a much larger, class the carnival is a pleasant holiday —a season when the cares of business and the troubles of everyday life may be forgotten in mirth, gay- ety, and genial society. There are many people in Paris who never have but one real holiday in the course of the year—that is, during the carnival. Others, again—strict men of business, yet men of sense enough not to enslave themselves the whole year through—take their holidays at regular inter- vals, but enjoy them most at the gay season, when the police feign to sleep, and even the laws are qui- etly set aside. Mardi Gras in Paris—who that has ever enjoyed it as Parisians do can ever forget it? The proces- sion, in the morning, with its gay grotesques, its good-humored followers, and the witty comments which it elicits; the jolly dinner at some cheap restaurant, with crowds of admirers of the beuf gras, ani with just enough wine to exhilarate without intoxicating ; the balls in the evening— first, at some grand house, where every one is primed to the muzzle with dignity and maintien, then a wild, harum-scarum masked ball, where ev- ery one is hail fellow well met, and where the most inconceivable things may be done and said without leading to any result ; the dance, with Musard lead- ing the orchestra, and a galop so échevelé that any luckless wight who trips rans no slender chance of being trampled to death ; the supper, with wit and bon mots, and songs in the morning; and then the quiet hours of sleep, without headache or confa- sion—these are scenes which are peculiar to Paris At all events, they seem for the present beyond our | capacity here. Carnival thus far is an exclusive- ly European institution. — ee ee

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l +s) ‘SS WEEKLY. -PER N ain HAI Aprin 3, 1858. ] — eS > ; N Ly RAK \ \ ‘ ‘\ 7 fe RK \ da T/T _ “a AT TURIN, LADY OF CRINOLINE MONSTER THE

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\ 99 : : —— _ l rHE CULPRIT JUDG! A TALE OF T \ > BA f W l s « " ae- l ‘ was t fa f th 1 a st \ tra I i I a ¢ ¢ a - VW at | { = ilker f } the 1 : . i A it 5 ‘] 1} ’ . 1 , 4 ; tr t | | I : i in N I - Vi | 3 } f pun hi t He ld } andl « , ly woul ha B I never coul | he was ' f \ fir t ln ¢ ‘ was t ! I f l afi r fa I sawak " I wa V » , t | ( and ' ; | " Au ri l er As 1 8a .T Asa i t i f a ; LW. le ii S self eless] | ’ y t ! at I | " u ( ita i ] ing man, wh ka lack w kers; and W l 1 of new | k- I lis a] vord ¥ is spoken 1 Sa into three Jud in his pocket, the ’ t er, and then drawir tf iy etween cach f iin placed them f Nex said Be careful and = . Ilis si r compan- ea r an they s k hands; the er 1 cau is und the Judge s wnt rs I continued to look ls ‘ . . ured absorbed in ¥ s | was about quitting my er l a pom of observ ition, he arose, s roll of bills placed them up the ind tl tinued his reading. ! ‘ n lood ran ld, for a grave sus- ! ften crossed my mind that he was a I 1 SUS} i him of being con- ht rs and traders who ly mad id commodity I sa ing m 1ughts uld I « WwW | | how sev . 1 t passers of counterfeit } ily he always ] im 1 at +} f i l a spurious f " I fore « l 1 s t L wit! l . 1} 1 .- § hily a a scended the ‘ le 1 the ar I} ! ] i man was ated at a table reading the Cincinnati paper, as cal id as if I \ the Methodist ministe ft ling I sat and pullin r out a la pa r pretend 1 to it, but | was glaneing over its t ar His eye did not wander from ilar ! per, nor d the sheet ral r I therefor luded he not vast I ! -avored to catch { next thought of trying ve Judg so making in my mind lating t iy official daties, I again i ced at his door. His pleas- ibarra lt , cried, ‘* Walk Af ting through my «, | said 1 careless tone, ill the afternoon, ' irelessly, “* Go- i | ion or two I ' \ , 1 have not » { l ] was a . as knew ! t t i 1 the } lal t 1 l i 8 I ad f l t r 1 i ‘ \ 1) sses W 1 they are « t | ist as wards whistle to kee Pp Up their courage,

HARPER'S WEEKLY. for he bell rang

tea. but n . tone nor an act betrayed that the | e was troubled or 4s We went down stairs t } ind began our meal rhe whisker- ed stra r sat opp but he and the Judge were to ea t er met Une r two ta civi en them, but \ ig politeness, « s va of life All i | hi t of I vhil t table to fur ith s evi I finished tt t L we stairs into the Judge's 1 groping the chimney in the dark felt s loose ick, found i id vered a roll of I k off l 1 lar hastily Notl more 0 i- t but the next day ) l- endar the case of a man who had been indicted some months before for counterfeiting, and had been out iil What does this mean? I asked of the clerk I did n authorize the trial, nor am I prepared , I witne ea Judge ¢ ordered n last term for this , answered the cler| nad pr ed your re- M req | sta I i 1s i 1 ie t pay f i 1 writi (al J ( I mbered, now I ‘ tl il t not il { ppat Lal r ance i had prompted i Just tl Judge ( red, and Court si- ur I | é call l to post] , t . Lorn ‘ pre- | l A stranger arose from am the lawvers, a aid he was for the pr 1 ind had from Cincinna try tl 1 h trouble, and, as he iulerstood, becaus« had beer dered ( for to-day i I ack-whish ed 3 7 f the J . Phe lat th a bla e, and d ing his } in ink ready for a me andum, asked, ‘* What i i Lat Sir I was s inde t l ipud et t I did not the a but proceeded to den) i erstanding, an harge that there was trick | My op] nt warily rejoined, and moved, if the ' was not tried, that his client ischarged f sil This w iving him liberty to r if pleased, and I opposed this moti My ad | r r ined, a to 1 utter astonish- n rranted the request, and order- | tl incel tl 1il-bond | At this ture I sat down, amidst the titters f my bret! , who were 1 y enough to lau h at W being caught napping, as they phrased | it. While I was meditating my wrath and my re- venge, the clerk announced that the panel of Grand | “Jurors was now complete and they were ready for business, Judge C—— arose to address and charge them. Ik l as the itself. | | | “Oh, you hypocrite was as cool and placi morning =] I muttered through my teet erate, as I fully knew him now to be 1 at ea at h, as the black-whiskered counsel—and confed- sly ly sneer- me and drew his chair close to the Bench in an attitude of deferential listening. It an essay on crime and its enormities, and seemed Its adjurations to the Grand Jury to fearlessly investigate were very pa- The charge was an elaborate one. was dramatically worked up. thetic. Its encomiums on virtue were touchingly } true Scarcely had the Jury retired than, in my ca- ing officer, I followed the mem- To the formal question, business ?”’ I ers to their chaml« ‘“*What was their first lo invessigate a charge of malfeasance in office against the Judge !"’ rhe foreman and his fellows looked at each oth- erin astonishment. Finally one of them said, with a smile, ‘‘ Take care, Brother W that professional rivalry does not get you into trouble | I replied by telling my story, and narrating all suspicious circumstances of the past twenty- | four hours; and concluded by requesting that the Llack-whiskered counsel be called and examined. answered, your '

Amidst the astonished silence of the Grand Inquest, the constable in attendance went after and return- ed with the stranger. | He entered easily and unabashed, saying, as he | took chair, nes ‘I am told you desire me to be a wit- ‘Perhaps cu

rit!” I exclaimed, in passion, en- tirely losing my control. And then, not heeding the hand of the foreman on my shoulder in re- to the constable who had lingered ‘ Take off his boot er made two Vounds, eh Ss:

> stran and was at the

| ndow which led into the garden of the jail. But rip of the constable caught him securely. In an instant one of the jurors took his arm and an- ther his leg, and before any one had time to speak boots were off, and two rolls of bills on the floor. Che firmness and presence of mind of the stran- ger forsook him ; he trembled in ¢ very muscle; and I im, “ Vill I whispered iin, not even your friend, Judge C——, can save you!” he turned ghastly pale. He was seated on the ch ** Ts this good money or said the foreman, breaking the dull silence that had succeeded the struggle. ‘Am I a witness, or am I accused he stam- mered, looking toward me Witness,” said I, “if you will tell all you know about Judge C— who is far better ame than you *y know—nothing—about Ju r C—- he st ered; “I never saw him until to-day Liar!" I shouted, forgetting my official digni- ty in my rage at his falsehood. ‘ Last night you | and he were together exchanging money, and in his presence you concealed your ‘ bocdle boots Immediat in your ly he stood ance—then sat down—half rose again ; and then pale; while huge drops of sweat stood on his face. He saw he was by some means cornered ; up in an attitude of defi- turned red, } aT recovering himself, answered, #* I will ge is guiltier than I In a moment

I have 1 sce for his story; but its amount was, that ] efore the J rem 1 to the West t had been conf ates at the East in ilati erfeit y while horse-jockey- ing They with a w rganized a st t band The lea were t m Ace turers and bankers of the ] Middlem - it ii ®, who | ised ta, to pass it ff at par was d ered a ( .. while vench, was able to be as moral and as se- pleased with the underling class who never knew the haunts and ways and ec ships of those above them. But the man whose 1 for whom Judge ( one of th trial was for that day, had class, : at interceded, happened to be eu e aud hence the 1 recessity of the action It i ie now to see t turnin r Grand rv! att i ) " - : [1 , ' next ul f i while he is upon t ‘ istl As I entered the court-room he was announcing the noon recess. There was a little taining a few law-books and a desk, into which he room off, «

sally re and thither I followed him ‘ Judge, said | imi my % » trembled lik

the voice of a man ur Bt r s ably was I wroug ip by t exci f the morn- i $s accusation and it 1 I very bad news for 1 For me said he, with the ut st e vithstanding the peculiari tery of my m er Yes, for the ( law has told l I shook rath than spoke Ile still smiled It was awful to see his hy poc- risy and calmness of demeanor, and for a moment I knew not what to say. Then taking from my vest pocket two of the bills unrolled from his chimney le I held them before him, and said:

posit,

has told all about these ; and I my elf, last night, sa counterfeit money in the fire- pl e | . . He li nd his m ! if he had 1 af - The room rather swam a be f a cul ulge w lav i IL ree red my full tion I four knees grov- eling on the floor like a dog He tore his hair, he wrencl glared, and his powerful fr

part. Indeed I sudden and wretched a sight ‘*Oh, good W——! dear W- was unm don’t betray

me! Consider how dreadful! And la ! Oh the disgrace! My poor ren! What will they say? Don't—dor I was to be next Governor—you know t Oh—

mself on oh his knees to an and he rock as if bursting with oh—how dreadful ! l fro, These were some of the hea

rowing inco- herencies which I can now remember over all the dreadful scenes that followed. I raised him from the floor and placed chair, and then said, ‘‘ Alas! Judge ( to me are too late. and the Grand Jury have taken his testimony His eyeballs glared at me like those of a Then Your confederate has told mania as if wrung by some wonderful impulse, he became calm. Indeed that calmness

was W r dreadful to behold than had been his excitement, imprecations, and agonizing entreaty “ Well, if it must be so, it must. But let me se the foreman only for a moment; bring him up—go for him—leave the room; go His excitement was returning flect as I should have done, I the I had just crossed t! amidst the curious looks of the now gathered—for in those Western settleme secrecy was of no moment about Grand Jury) ters, and half the village already knew the stor) I had just crossed the court-room, I repeat, when | he a dreadful groan and a simultaneous pi do go—z

room. crowd who had y

} \¢ ard report.

It was succeeded by an instant of terrible silence, and then the crowd burst into the room. Judge C- lay upon the floor, with his blood and brains shockingly scattered about the littl chamber. When I retired, he had drawn his pis- tol, 1 to his other crimes added that of self-mur- der. He was a ghastly sight to see; nor shall | ever forget the memories of that dreadful day when I was compelled to behold the living agony and the dving woes of a “‘ ¢ uprit Judge,” in sight of that bench and bar whereat he had so often presided in convicting and sentencing villains less guilty than he had really n all the while ! an bee bec THINGS WISE AND OTHERWISE.

SimrLzs.—Modern poets may t all the similes have been used up bef hite as snow,” “white asa lily,” “ re now general property; but a Welsh poet, Davyth ap Gwillyn,

has an entire new image; he calls the maiden of his love white as lime ————— Ilow wisely Nature, ordering all below, Forbade on woman's chin a beard to grow For how should she be shaved, whate'er the skill Whose tongue would never let her chin be still _— * Please, Sir, I don't think Mr. Dosim tak is physic reg’ lar i tor’'s boy to his employer “ Why soy" he’s getting vell so precious fast."

fAprin 3, 1858.

Chief-Justice Padelford, as he was commonly called, was a magistrate of one of the beats in Warren County, Mississippi On one occasion some mischievous boys were brought before him, charged with cruelty to the dog of John Flechenstein, by putting turpentine on his tail. The judgment of the Court was set forth in the fol lowing entry The evidence in this case having been heard, and the Court being sufficiently advised in the premises, it is ordered, adjudged, and decreed, that the ‘ ndants be fined in the sum of five dollars each, and that they severally enter into recognizance, in the m of bh i dollars, cor ed to keep the peace ward fg j gs of State and especia toward t Pi n.”* A voter f pe al beauty, said to § dar I m t iraw myc te ‘ Ma thanks for the fav 5 rey l e ca la for it is the ugliest mug I ever saw - - Ay r t Arkansas hos fice is ten 1 $ from a rt g. and ¥ t gs is sigt a limb of a advertises an a e Hie says “At rot e ¥ pref — ‘Mr. President,” s By fa wx 1 com tee out We It to ge andamt backward to come forward in the at t not been for edication, I might as ig aut as yourself, Mr. President." _ -_ A lady made a « plaint to Frederick the Great, King of Prussia. Y Majesty,’ said she my husband treats me bad That is none of my t iness,” r ied the King But he sy; lady

* Have Speak less than thou knows HAKSPEARE

te An honest Irishman was accosted by a brot Ili nian v Arrah, Pat, you're going to be in good luck to-day, boy—you've got your stockings on wrong side o Pat turned round with great quickness, and su eying with tl tmost complacency the sad remnants of what had once been hose, answered: ‘*Sure, | I know that; don't you know the rason why I tu 1 t “No,” replied the other Why ays lat, and gave a knowing wink with his eye, ekase y’re full of les the ver sid -_ Extre mad the an leeme hat eans with watch, a t, t Aw i's will, that is dispos astra SPENSER = Once on a time I fair A a} ‘d, Whose nose was t stinguished to be miss'd Said I My love, I f ould kiss 1 closer, But though ycur lips say ves, your se says, no, § -_ . Of the whole population of England and Wales in 183 e per 173 s named Smith, one in Tb wasaJ ¢ SaW mas, one in 148 a Taylor ein lSla Davis, and one in 175 a Brown. —_ a If wine be } n ist it in another shape, W hat “ ther one Hed by canister or grape It is said that the frozen Norwegians, on the first sight f roses, dared e trees bu “wz with f f Vir ginia, the first y of ' er which belonged to the English, sowed it grain expecting to reap a ple crop of combusti by the following harvest, to blow away their invaders —_ me The following is the title of a pamphlet, in verse, w ten two hundred ars ag Pobaeco battered Pipes shattered (about their ears v ly Idolize ‘ and barbarous a Weed), by a volley of Holy Shot dered from Mount Helicon.” It is, p aps, the earliest satire on the use of tobacco -_> To sneceed, a nm must be steady A mecha r artiean, who is invariably making } &, festivals, and ar ersaries be unsuccessful. W h, 1 becomes @ scrar y earn less than others, y lowe edit and ¢ epe t s the w 1 the race, a r loses all heart . 1 lower and | g accidet ba and preca rious meals. * tradesman f 8 the same course, and sinks into a similar condition Ile leads a gay life, has a country-house, and a dashing vehicle; the money he started with soon vanishes, paper tak« e place of bullion, and extravagance finally launches him in a bankruptcy court. -— a Some people are never co nt with their lot. let what will happen. Clouds and darkness are over their heads alike, whether it rain or shine To tl yi is an accident, and every accident a calar Eve hen they have their own way, they like it: er than your w and, indeed, consider th most itary acts as matters of compul-ion —— When Doctor H—— and Lawyer A were walkir

, & wag said to a friend, ** These two are just ) } wwayman.” “ Why?" asked his friend suse," rej ed the wag, “it is a lawyer and a do r—your money or your life /" _ rs more injurious to health than Iate ho i Y necessary to stay until “the small hours at a party; r is it contrary to etiquette to leave at le time. Dr. Kitchener always hung over the chit piece of the room in which he held his celebrated Tuesday evening conversaziones, ** At seven come, at eleven go.” ———E—EE——E pop lacy to think that you can make pork c ig n, or that you can become a shoemaker by drinking sherry.cobblers. -_ — An old toper, after indulgi jnite freely in his accus. t 1 bes uge, amused himself in teasing a mettlesome horse The animal suddenly reared, and the toper found himeelf spraw rina mud puddle. Gathering himself Up as co dly as his situation would allow, he shout- ed to his son Jolin, who was standing by, *‘ John, did you see me kick that ‘ere hoss?" ** Why, no, dad, the hoss kicked you!" teckon not, John. One or tothér of us got badly hoisted. ‘Taint me, John, for I'm here I"

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Aprit 3, 1858. ] FINANCIAL AND COMMERCIAL. PRanKcuun Squars, Mec March 29, 1858 ad I | he past week com- | sw hat of responding week last | ‘ I . Exports. | v 1 M 7, 1858 $ $ é | ‘ * on : Goo 4 | s i) $ ) I rn t " I ir 8 tof } a | 4 ‘ I l t a ‘ WEEKLY MARKET SUMMARY Ni Y Mon March 29, 185s Prod Marl ust week | at i I ‘ t pretty | ‘ I and W ¥ of | / t ( a week ago, ‘ I | ffs e te, but . | ; ( 1 gularly ’ it t | Anse S ( reas, ’ $ more | :, \ I t Y ELS ASH- | i | | A v= = 34 | Appl Oo; @ ‘? ) j j a } I _ il } @ 2 ‘ . , » ] i ‘ » ( " 4 t ) o ) ) » | , n | é , t ‘ J | ti % : = ’ 2 e ( j ri > | l 12 ( i e a i 4 20 \ 4 1 25 I @ 13 ( per | ! ' @ 12 I " 125 @ 150 } H | 62 @ 15 I ‘ 62 @ 75 ( 250 @ 275 I 125 «@ 250 ; pe > @ o> I per pair « 44 4. ea 5 @ 5 Venison, per s @ 13 ADVERTISEMENTS. QARTAROE! SARTAROE!! SARTA- mn ROL EVERY BODY IS READING AND ALL ARE PRAISING ‘GTON IRVING HAS HIGHLY A TALE OF IT. IT RECOMMENDED IT SARTAROE : NORWAY. By J. A. MAITLAND A r of The Watchman The Wanderer, The Dia an Old D I Lawy es y, & ( e in one ¥ I k nd in « 1, for ‘ D ar and Twen ve Cent i y es } for O r Read w ILLUSTRIOUS WASHINGTON IR VING ea tit t Yetps, D 2 1857 Dr ! I é t t I lag a 4 want of 7 ; i to my sponde I ‘ ask on la aged be t and mind I pen a " ly 1 of life, so I i le to cop the esp ‘ ‘ l a iN intere and sat a It is . . a , j its deta and ¢ 1 and ‘ I f y. ma 8 S N va Diff members of y " ed 1 plea and " from 4 I k re, that w I a and that 5 will be ¢ r | I ed y ar } Wishing you a prosperous car I remain y rs very respectfully, WASHINGTON IRVING aS. A. MAITLA N.Y I i s day,a f sale at retail t 4 t Tr. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS N 6 CHESTNUT 8 P ud ia Ce « 3 per mail, fr posta 1 receiy I F DERBY & COMPANY . Will exh thei l y of new spring ¢g is FROM MONDAY, MARCH 29 Not often equaled by the display of er years, and at I ST Walk Ss t near | adw A WORD OF ADVICE.— When you are j Sick ' ld Brand) I “Read a {f Dr. Ha and Dr. I e had at Dr. Brand gratis I sands who die might live if : I s were used in time as the medicine I pal Office 292 Ca st t Sold also at 296 Bow ery and 241 Hudson Su 118 Third Avenue, 66 H ‘- t corner of Lewis Street, 175 Fulton Street, Brooklyn, and 124 South Sixth Street, W illiamaburg. HARPER'S SOME THOUSANDS } : ASONS For tl sw t ge » ere 1 k of CONDENSED &cl riFl Kk MILLI I WITHIN ha : a ! a fv , 4 £z ‘ ated of ] E DOLLAI any ad as j It ‘ 1iUN mp A ] a ru I “ k s 4 { { va “ ‘ “ a tha I X OF CONT QUIRING FORTY ¢ INS of FINE 1 I CRA riTZut N _ TRI w Y A Ra I Copies of the s I a , toany address, fre por RELIABLE AGENTS WAN D a 4 Reason Wuy and Ing 7) N ders to t Put . yo WITH DOCTOR J r ‘ ANTONIO ti | I I t DEAR EXPERIENCI Y BRUPPINI f A volume \ ] A and Lore I WW I ti I il l i I ega l 1 ji iw I 4 works I $1 i n I 4 “ The st tis ‘ of retine ‘ g I “ k which ¢£ au I and the ati by I ‘ 5 t I x ‘ ‘ " | ‘ = ‘ i > RUDD CARLI NI I ksell N l xy 1 ork ( 1IFTS GIFTS GIFTS I i¢ » eve ka s eww ( Lb a f ‘ I rij ‘ ' and i free Ww any ad ~ a 4 F lg i EVANS & ‘ 677 1 rdwa New York ( PRIZE for EVERYBODY who subs 3 | A : NEW YOLK .LY ILI -y ATED FAMILY NEWSPAII THE NEW YORK WEEKLY PRI rgest and best literary pa; f arto « tai rWENTY I MNS sining matt sand LE LEG ED every week rth fr UsSTRAT A GIFT ach subscriber immediately the receipt of the « ytion money m 50 ts to S500 y we ** rERMS One copy for one year, and 1 gift o- WW rhree copies one year, and 5 gifts 500 Five copies one year, and 5 gifts 8 00 | Ten copies one year, and 10 gifts 15 00 Twenty-one copies one year, and 31 gifts : . 30 00 Single copies, 4 cents | The article to be distributed are comprised i lowing List 1 United States Treasury Note -.» $1.0 2 United States Treasury Notes 500 00 ea 5 United States Treasury Notes 200 00 ea 10 United States Treasury Notes 10 Patent Lever lLunting - cased | Watches ] iY 20 Goid Watches 75 4 50 Gold Watches. ¢ . 100 Gold Watches H 300 Ladies’ Gold Watches 200 Silver Hunting-cased Wa . 500 Silver Watches. $10 00 to 2 ea 1,000 Gold Guard, Vest, and | Chains... 1909 to a 00 Gold Pens and Pencils 500 t Gold Lockets, Bracelets, I es, Ear-Dr I ast Pins, .Cuff-Pins, Sleeve Buttons, R a, &§ t Studs Watch Keys, Gold and BSilv Thi es, and a variety f other art # worth f BO « to $ a Immediately on re | 16 BU k I ¢ 6 cripers ban will be entered ; 6 t ' \ be a £ r I ‘ thatr will be forwarded, withi week t subs by mail ex] t ai All commu ations el ld be addressed DANIEL ADEE, Publisher, No, 211 Centre Street N. ¥ . } JRIVATE INSTITUTION for IMBE CILES, and all that class of ldr u 1 peculiarit ent th educa ert rhe Instit has wt : a and merits t 4 t pers ii welfare this class u ates \ “ GEO, BROW M.D., Su; t 1 I Mass GROVER & BAKER'S CELEBRATED FAMILY SEWING MACHINES, 495 BROADWAY, NEW YORK 18 SUMMER STREET, BOS . 730 CHESTNUT STREET, PHILADELPHIA (#" These Machines are justly adm | best in the market for family sewing } LECTURES IN THE FRENCH LANGUAGE, AT GLER No. 48 East Twenty h Stree Mancn i Ma ¥ ‘ 2g (1 Arr ST MAD 3 DE ( N ST DEA i Course Tickets, $1 50; Single Tick ‘ | To be had at Lockwood's, 411 Broadway, aad at Christern s, 763 Broadway, t WEEKLY LIVINGSTONE’S TI “l \ , } MT i ( \l | I I A tes BIOGRAPHY OF (| ! N MK . b&w \ I I v iy a v “ . i valua t I v Sie, © af iy ! t phy " aye t v a t ithena i fs ( ne ’ ‘ a As a we Ca jues " t ] t ‘ way th gra ! v I t ‘ y ri . ei ” ' UY } ’ ofet ‘ I area mn ” . nm “ at w t 1 ee essed a s ay 6 f a uly , * ver Weat I Mr & as | ‘ " ’ V st « sa t . f an tha f 7 sts . ke V k elf, w yand ¢ : sk l a e sa " a ‘ ‘ ‘ t ’ * sta tual et w sy oe ace 5 ary . t ” a London 7 s rich FIELI I I “9 ® , t Work. f fj | , ‘T HE POET TOLD A FIB he ara ace t ses I a nines s of } s 4 4 5 > wie lw the la h " i Ra rys ‘ rr . Vl w , “ * a t . ‘ ea . 4 Ww - A ‘ ‘ a ck I a} ' } “ ‘ . Cata ‘ A " 4 as A. KRANNEY, A SEY MA iN y CUM PREPAI ) EX! . ulus ‘ ‘ . ' : I r Ma i s hav a} v¥ ‘ 5 4 AY \ r 1¥ Y . ’ \ oT! ‘ y : ; ‘ ae ‘ ‘ ) LY AVELS IN th ‘ ’ ‘ pu SI § I QAND Li \ ’ A 4 ty ‘ A] j HARI ‘ A FIRS 5 rAM y I Five Ce A BUT ; ‘ HARIER & I ri) ! kul

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eS ne eae in THE REAL APRIL 1. How rns New Yorx Mercnants recervep THern Country Customers Last YEAR. Mr. Jones's Moruenr-in-Law, ON THE OCCASION SPEND A coupLeE oF Days oR ADVERTISEMENTS. TO & JUTHERN AND WESTERN MERCHANTS. Ww*. BUCHANAN MACKENZIE is now exhibiting, in his spacious Millinery Rooms, a mest srperb collection of choice PARIS BON- NETS, among which are several of very rare design and quality. WM. B. MACKENZIP, 294 & 206 Canal Street, Brandreth Building — BirtTH OF HER GRANDSON, COMES TO SO WITH HER Son-tx-Law. AMILY SEWING MACHINE DEPOT. FIFTEEN and FIFTY dollars SEWING MACHINES. The Frrrern Dotiar Sewing Machine is the best cheap machine ever offered to the Public. utes only required to learn to operate upon it Dollar Machine is warranted to excel all other family hallenge the world to produce its THOMAS & CO., 480 Broadway, N, Y. ents wanted to sell the $15 machine OOLS—THE SUBSCRIBERS TO GIFT ENTERPRISES.—( The reader will admire the admirable — + —---»=- — » 22S SSR 2% © 7 OBR D &., A MAGAZINE CONDUCTED BY CHARLES DICKENS, Author of *‘ Pickwick Papers,’ “ Oliver Twist,” *‘ Mar- tin Chuzzlewit,” &c., &c., Published by the Subscribers in monthly parts, from the advance sheets, under sanction of the London pub- lishers, and by special arrangement with them ** Household Words” is deciltedly the best literary production now published. Each monthly number con tains Original Articles by some of the most em , modern writers. Among the Contributors to its col umns are Cuaries Dickens, Mrs. Gaskets, Leion Hunt, WILkiz CoLiins, and a host of others of equal celebrity Every article published in ‘‘ Household Words" is Original Terms $3 a year, strictly in advance, with a beautiful present to every yearly subscriber. Circulars sent, post-paid, on application Address JANSEN & CO., 126 Nassau Street, New York PA mar IS DRY, (ce Hard, and Stiff, may be subdued and made soft and glossy, by a single application of Burnett's Cocoain: a compound of Cocoanut Oil, &c. For dressing the hai: and promoting its healthy growth, itis unrivaled. For sale by all druggists. A Bae HALL SEMINARY for YOUNG LADIES, 5 miles from Boston. Calisthenics, Horseback Riding, Salt-water Bathing, &c. For Cata logue, addre.2 MRS. T. P. SMITH, Principal, Bostov. Maes. pamasrs BILLIARD TABLES AND COMBINATION CUSHIONS. SaLe-room 796 and 788 Broapway, Manvraorory 53 Ann Street, N. Y SINGER’S SEWING MACHINES. w For all manufacturing purposes SINGER'S SEW- ING MACHINES are deemed indispensable. The pub- Ife insist upon having their clothing, &c., made by them. SINGER'S FAMILY SEWING MACHINE is the latest presented for competition, and being arranged with full knowledge of the defects of other machines for similar uses, has avoided or remedied them all. It is the hand- somest Sewing Machine ever made, and the easiest to learn to operate. Using one of these machines is an el- egant amusement. Price $100, with iron table complete. I. M. SINGER & CO., No. 458 Broadway, New York. | TZISS-ME-QUICK. Exquisite Perfume, dis- tilled from fragrant Tulips. E. DUPUY, Druggist and Importer, 609 Broadway fAprin 3, 1858 Saini" ~ | lon DOLLAR | |) 2. How THEY RECEIVE THEM THIs YEAR. PY) BEELER & WILSON M’F’G CO’S SEWING MACHINES, Orrice 343 Broapway, New Yor« Agencies throughout the Union Send for a Circular We prefer them for family use.— Tribune. Th-y are the favorites for families. —Timea. The machine for family use.—Advocate & Journal. We can not imagine any thing more pe rfect.—Evang. Will give entire satisfaction. —Observer The best ever invented.—Christian Inquirer. In looking for the best, see these.—._K-aminer. Admirably adapted for family use.—Chronicle. We praise it with enthusiasm.—Christian Intell. Worthy of the highest award.—Sabbath Recorder. Bo= ETT’S COCOAINE. .- r A compound of Cocoannt Oil, &c., for dressing Hair. For efficacy and agreeableness, it is without a rival It prevents the hair from falling off It promotes its healthy and vigorous arowth. It is not greasy oF Tt softens the hair when hard and dry 1t soothes the irritated acalp akin It affords the richest lustre It remains lonaest in effect. It coats fifty cents for a half pint bottle. A single application renders the hair (no matter how stiff and dry) soft and glossy for several days. It is con- ceded by all who have used it to be the best and cheapest Hair Dressing in the World. Prepared by JOSEPH BURNETT & CO., Boston. For eale by all druggists. S] | nd WILL PAY FOR BOARD AND qy e TUITION in the FLUSHING FEMALE COLLEGE one year Address Rev. WILLIAM H. GILDER, A.M., President, at Flushing, Long Island. HONOGRAPHY; or, Puoxetic Ssort- HAND. For Alphabet, Speeimen Pages of the Pho- nographic Magazine for 1858, and List of Works (free), Addres BENN PITMAN, Cincinnati, O.