Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, January 26, 1873, Page 8

s A b i et Y e T e IHE UHICAGO PDAILY TRIBUNE: SUN AY, JANUARY 26, 1873. debts, the present generation would seo the worl ac- co: That Joint reached, workingmen, includ- {ng the emalier property-holders, would be entitled to 7 to the Governier:, sud if united in purposc could ¥ with effect: * If war must be woged lct its cost bo piid by a tax on property. But do not o=k us to do the fighting and then morlgage the earnings of our dren snd our children’s children to pay for a war of your own making, which ghoald be paid for as it progresees. Hitherto tho cost of everything wa con- ‘Bumit has been enhanced by (Lo Wars of former gea- erations. e have helped to poy & debt for which our Littlo propertics and our earnings were morigagel Without our consent, And our firm resolve is, that i ‘we transmit to our children no othcr heritage than elout hearts and willing hands, it shall at least be un- ingumbered aud free.” 1€ such a state of things shall ever be realized, Lnbor & 2 distinctivo interest or element will no Jonger havo a rerious grievance to complain of, If %tho State™ gruamniss toall cqusl opportunilis to scquiro sud 14’ property, granting no epecial favors, imposing discrimiusting burdens upon none, and lmiting itz own_expenditures to lomitimato_objects of govera- ment, ¢xch man will find Lis own proper place in the b e IRELAND. = _George L. Phillipe reviews the hisiory of tho times of ** Henry Flood, snd the condition of Treland from Swilt to 0'ConnolL” NOLWEGIAN NATIONAL TOET. _ - Hjalmer Hjorth Boyesen writes of “ Rjornst- jeine Bjornson as a Dramatist.” In him, he &xys, Norway has found her vationsl poet. - “*TRE MIXED POPULATIONS OF NORTH CAEOLINA zre trented of by N. B. Shaler. The Englich, German, German-Swiss, and French colonists ‘have blended into one poople with easo, and need excite no eolicitude on our part. But with the Degroes it is quite different : Their numbers are nzt:uumsnslnx.d Te;flo&(némnt i jeral am cians and of sy m&f:n that kh:;gulzh> rate is not balanced by the irthe, The cotton seed is a ready substitute for ergot, and ia used to an alarming extent. 1t is comparatively . TaTe to seea negress looking as if sho wero preparing to 21d auything to tho- woea of the Alalthusians. We have had it Eaid Tecently that in some of ke Bistes, sccording tho connus, the number of the negroes is ns great 2a in 800, ergo the negroes are not decreasing,—a very basty. conclusion. For the firet ive years of the decado the Tece was noder proity much its old conditions in the E\\l:er yart of the South. This should have added rely to 1bo m::x.\ of 1850 )[ulilx;:lc{;r, Lh‘c IICZM;L\‘:: elaves were taxable property ¢zt o returns awiways comewhat under tho true number during the old conditions. Itis a well-known fact that properly returus are siways beneath the truth, Before the war the ¥ate of 1ncreasa of the negroes was far more rapid than among the whites. Ths superior race did all that ‘couid Le dous to push the reproduction to the highest poixt, for tierein moro than half the South found the real profit of elaves. 1t is uecless to strive gainst such evils, a3 that above indicaied, by moral influence alone. While the wages «f the Degroed are 80 emall, any considerable increase o porulation is hardly to be desired. Until the Bouth, through = more varied industry, develops capital more readily than at present, the increase of the uegro pop- wietion in the rapid ratio of the yeers before the war would make it even more difficult to advance than at rezent, The greatest need the negro now has to meet fiz:ot ‘more or better assured rights, but betier wages. The ballot and spelling-book are potent instruments wnier certaln circumstances, and in their time may do ‘someiLing for theso unfortunate partners of our Nu- tional fate, but to & man who, at his best, can earn only Sfteen dolizrs per month, thoy mean nothing ut all, He who would do the best for his peojle, must seek. 10 establish in the Sonth real industrial schools, manu- factorjes, and savings banks, They are the levers ‘which will 1ift the race, if it is ever to rise. With the January number, 3 MEB. THOMAS 8. PERRY has assumed his position as oditor of the North American Review. From the notico we havo ‘mede of ita contents, it will bo scen that his first effortis fally aqual o the last of Lis predeces- sors. The articles are well chosen, and are op- gortume in hoir topics, in & way quite unusual ith the retrospectivo North American. In the ‘book-notices, we miss some of Lowell's graceful touches, but gain some from the naw editor. The books noticed are Stickney's *“Autobiogra- phyot ‘Amos Kendall," Whitney's Oriental and inguistic Studies,”’ Revere's *Keel and Sad- dle” Lamon's “Life of Abraham Lincoln,” Smith’s *Art Education,” Tyler's “Memoir of Roger Rrooko Taney,” DBuchner's “Mar in the Past, Present, and Future,” Perking' ‘ Eest- Jake's Housebiold Tasto,” Ttichardson's *Songs from tho Old Dramatists,” Jolnson's * Oriental Religions,” Evans' ‘Ancient Btone Imple- wmonts.” . on 15 A CATHOLIC WORLD. “WHO MADE OUR LAWS ?" {5 the inquiry with which the Catholic World for Fobruary confronts the rest of “the world. 1t answers its own question, which is ono way of getting a satisfactory snswer. Among other things, it ssy8: For ins! the posgesaion of real estate forms one of the principal attractions for the ambition of indus- trious et how fow of thern ever think that fhe laws Tegulating its alsposition, scquisition, snd ‘inheritance are the very enactmenta Zeamed by mo Bundreds of yesra ago and recoguized by srmed 1yt ‘men after long, and st {imes doubtfal, contosts with tRe advocates of the arbitrary feudal eystem, Personal Aiberty, apeedy rial by our peers, wero fist pecared in mhh@fw'flflinfi.mbw_hflydfim“ GHAREE Brienever of denouncing 8 tyrannical, That the right of the peoplo governed, to- elecet Tepresentatives to maks laws affecting Liberty, and pursuit of happincss,” was obtained an icarried into_practical effoct bya Catholio statesman many centuries before Thomas Jefferson or Benjamin Frankin were seems to have been forgotten by ‘peeudo-liberals : while tho grand principle of political ‘equality which ies at the fonndation of our republic, Anstead of Jons than 3 hundred sears old, 18 co- on and condition. in this inconsiderato age, we fall to o deop debt of gratitade wa owe to the thinkers of the past for our laws, civil- . dzation, and correct ideas of government, we cannot, 4f we would, deny that we are still ruled by thos ‘very ideas, and that nane of our bossted, and, in their way, valusble discoveries havo had the effect to give 18 & new and better scheme of Jurisprudence, wheroby znaukind can be made betior, wiser, or happler. OTHER ARTICLES, In the following article, itis eaid that “The Church is the champion of marriage.” Tho tri- bunal of history is appealed to, and the nsser- tion is supported by many annals. An account of the “International Congress of Prebdstoric Anthropology and Archeol og‘;.“ ‘which met at Bruseels in 1872, is republished from La Revue -Generale de Bruxelles, There is o well-written skotch of the life of ‘Marquette,—one of that illustrions trio—De ~Boto, Marquette, and LaSalle—whoso lsbors in exploring tho Mississippi have made theirnames hu;;aknld words. - e other contents are: ‘‘Dante’s Purga- torio ;” ¢ Flenrange ;" “Cologne ;" *John ;" -“The Soe of Peter ;” “Atlsntic Drift—Gathered n the Bteerage ;" “A Dnughtnr of 8. Dominic;” Tho Progressionists ;” * Prayer of Custanco;” *Acoma ;" “Now Publications.” —_— Encky Numbers. Thereioa widHErud tondoncy to believe in Incky numbers. The mystical properties of numbers and the doctrine of chances have both something to do with this matter, Card-players bave a number of arochets of this kind—* luck under the deuce,” bad luck under thenine of diamonds, an even number for the trump card. One theory says that even numbers aro unlucky, use each can be divided into two, thereby denoting desth and dissolution. Onc pation mado the year consist of 359, in ordcr that it should not divide into twelve equal moniks, Some of the early Christians pronounced for odd num- bers; becanse God is 1 in 8, and becanse He mads holy tho soventh day. The number 7 and its multiples were on othar grounds medo Lncks; ‘because 2 human being eheds his teoth at 7, be- comes » youth at twica 7, » man at thrico 7, and reaches his grand_climacteric at nine times 7. In some parts of Englmd,beme housewives pui thoir hons on an odd number of eggs ; * because, with an even number, they fear there would beno. chicks. The current year of our Lord is always 8 Incky number in the estimation of some per- rone. Addison said, in the Spectafor : I have bc;:g“told of a c“tmn zealous dissenter, who, s great ememy to Pope and - belleving that badmen are " fhe most fortunate in the world, will laytwo to ons on the number 666 sgeinet any other number ‘becanse says he, it is the number of tho beas This mysticel number has played a great part in luck speculatione. Some Apocalyptio interpre- ters will have it that 066 is the Pope bimeelf ; while, on the othor and, & Roman Catholio ilqmlh“ has recently etriven to show that if ismarck were spelled” Bistmarck, it would be exactly u?mflflant to 666. Number three is greatly in favor of luck ; ackool-boye insist that the third time will be fair, or will Tesult in euc- cess. There is anold superstition or maxim, call it which wo may, that thres of sand on B desd body aroe as good 88 s funeral. The Romans bad notions about the breadth of a camp fosse measuring an odd number of feet; the Lolding of markets at-intervals of an odd number of daye; the taking of the census at intervals of an 0dd number of yenrs; in i or three-sided table; the Furios threo, ad the Muscs soven. Greek cities had an odd number of gates. The French Ppeasauiry have a knack 6f making out !ncs and gnlucky years for great Ezmomgea by 2ddin, mgeullx the year of our Lord, the digits whicl l;pflle that number, the age of tho individual, 2nd the number of 'years between his birth, f;mlsa& ©or some other notable event in hia o—an elastic procoss, which can be made to, g""" almost anything we wish.—Chambers’ —A Davenport ma with thr i dhia: hters h.u‘pnstpd the {ollowbi;gn:n?j.:ag a:\“’}\: -pull: “*Wood $6 a cord, conl 30 cents & Bta) aftar bashel; gasdesr andbad. Parfies 8 o'slezi mill ploase settle quarterly. - LONDGOR. An Englishwoman’s Book on America. Some cf ¥ler Expericnees of Life in tho States. Alone .in a Siceping-Car---American Girls and American Monners. Hospitality---A Portrait of President Grant---An Ameridan ‘¢ Home.” From Our Own Correspondent. ‘Loxpox, Jan. 1, 1873, The first book of the New Year which has come into my hands is & pleasant little volume, by & clever literary woman, entitled * Our American Cousins at Home.” It contains several good pen-and-ink sketches,and also somo photographa. ‘The authoress has just returned to her native country aftera year's residence in the States, and she writes vory playfully and gonially of her experienco and observation. Tho roader may be not unwilling to see yet again how his country- men and countrywomen took to the eye of & stranger. - SHOPKEEPERS AT WASHINOTON. At the stores ot Waslington, you aro generally received—this book says—with the greatest in- differenco snd supercilionsness, if not absolute impertinenco. If the ‘young ladies” behind the counter are occuplod holding o conversation when you approach with your meek roquest, they would not think of attending to you until they had finished their discussion, and then treat you 48 if. it were o special favor in them todoign to listen to you atall. . A LADY ALONE IN A SLEEPING-CAB. Journeying to Boston from Washington, the suthoress had her berth made into a bed, and, divesting horself of Ler outer garments, retired behind the curtain, ond slept until dasbresk. . “I know,” she proceeds, “that st esch ond of " tho slosping:car there was a foilette-room, with marble basins and washing paraphernelia. I put my head out ‘betwoen the opening of the curtain to sse if the place was unoccupied, when, to my amazement, what should meet my eye, all the way up and down the narrow corridor, but stockingod—no, T oan socked—feet struggling into boots of the most decidedly masculine ¢persuasion.’ As I was contemplating the possibility of threading 1my wey through this novel living hedge, I came to the kmovwledge that I was the oply Iady in the ear, and that, unknown and unprotected, I had boen passing the night in the most ignorant and reckless security with about twenty men! In any other country, this discovery would have been horrifying in iteelt, and extromely disa~ greesble in its results; but, short ss my experience of American chivalry had been, it was quite sufficient for me to know that T had absolutely nothing to feol ‘uncomfortable abont. Most of the gentlemen did me the honor to ignore my presencq com- pletely, thereby making me feel very much as- sured; those that did not noither stared.nor spoke; but, as the train slackened at the Jersey City station, two of them helped me down the steps of the platform, and, one taking my shawls and the othor my hendbag, said, ‘Allow me, medam, to see you to the ferry,’ whither thoy accompanied me, and bowed themselves o{!._" . LADIES ON HORSEBACK. American ladies, according to the suthor of #Qur American Cousins,” know nothing, as a rule, about riding, and very little how to dress when they show their handsome figures and lovely faces on s side-saddle. White under- gkirts, the coat-collar turned back, with s colored silk revrs, and = bright gromats, entiely spoll the st o, ihe, T even sit their horse gracefully, want of firmness is apparent, and they baveno intimato knowl- edgo of, nor any sort of co-axistenco with, the noble creature who does so much to enhance that besuty. AMERICAN GIBLS AND AMERICAN MANNERS. ‘The American girls’ propensity, we are told, for flirting, which art begins to develop itself in Sery tender years, and the desire to possess ono or more besx,—{o attain which all means seem to bewarranted,—sre, in the suthorees' tninking, chiefly owing to school-education. There is more Iiberty and license allowed to girls than in Eng- 1and.” *But many,” sho adds, “of the young indies I have met,and who wers brought up 8b home with s governess, could compete with many a refined English girl in un- sssuming, maidenly | manners, in quiat, lady-like demeanor, and’ ofien surpass her in cultivation sod intellectual development, An American girl's education is, generally speaking, very thorough; they havo s far grester facility we have for acquiring foreign languages, and speak them With a more agreeable accent. It is a pity that this cannot be eaid of their own langusge. They are charming conversational- ists, more 5o than the men, Whoso manner 18 80 deliberate and slow that they give one the idea they are ‘holding forth.” But whenco comes this nassl sccent, this fearful twang, which spoils the greatost boauty and mars the wit- tiest or sweetest speech? Is it a defoctive organ or a faulty enunciation, or is it only habit, —a habit which has become second nature, an from which thero is_no hope of deliverance, —Tfor, where peoplo prido themselvos on a fault, ‘what prospect can.thero be of reform? Itis difficult to discuss Amorican manners ; there is no rule {o bo 1aid down. Perhaps in no country i the line drawn 8o unmistakably botweon good socicty and indifforent. This boundary, the crossing of which ontails such cense- less siriving all the world over. is not_defined by cither name, fortuno, or even position. It is as distinctly folt; ita presence is recoguized, and ite limits aro traced to whore the ure ore of ‘mannérs ceasey, and the plating egins. It is the eame with dressing; wo have an ides that sll American girls wesr satin and feathers, jowels and laces, and thus have moth- ing more fo assume when they resch the mar- ried or natonly stato, This i8 very true smong the ‘shoddies,” but not in good society; there, nothing could excl the perfect good taste in dressing.” PURE ENGLISH MISSING. Ono.rarely hears, yout critic eays, really pure English, but, 01 the other hand, English is # generally " better spoken than in tho mother- land. The miguse of euch words &s “ clever,” “emart” <elegant,” ‘“rend,” ‘‘cunning,” gradually diminishing. And fhere is s eatisfac- tion, which-none but an Englishman can appre- ciatg, in thofact that sou may travel from Norih to South, from East to West, and may converse with even theleast grammatical, snd yet your ear i@ never offonded by the absence or the misplace- ‘ment of the letter * H.” _ HARD OX THE KEWSPAPERS. The daily newspapers in the States are (50 says this fair one), genarally speaking, sourrilous in tone, abusive in langusge, and defamatory to men in position or stration. In- stead of granting thst & man msy hold different opinions and yet be honest and patriotic, he is at onco condemned as a ruffian and a thief. EMPLOYMENT OF FEMALES IN ENGLAND AND THE STATES COMPARED. In Europe, the gentlewomen in distressed cir- cumstances may be employod as taschers, may toil in a nursery, may cke out & mizerable Ittance at a dsy-gohool, or may wear out their ealth by close confinement lng machine work. In Enefhnd, too, we now employ women in post and telegraph offices, but_sa such they are ox- cluded from what is designated society. Very different is it, reports our authoress, with the ladies who are_employed in the Government offices in America. Her skeich will' make the pedigres nsa passport, and your nocial ante- Cedents 03 r, Tecormendation, before he wel- comes you to his tent. - In Boston, the society is s2id to'bo_excluive, snd its tono cold, but my own ezperionce obliges moto say fhat never have I received such kinducss, such lavish hoepitality, s X did from tho Dostonians.” GENERAL GBANT—A PORTRAIT. Of small stature and badly-proportioned frame uote “Our American Cousins at Ilomo™), with small, Liard eyes, and o mouth closed with a firmuess that eays more for this soldier's ten- acity of will than the whole of his military rec- ord; what strikes one more than anything else is tha utter lack of exprestion on his countenance. No one looking at the face could sucseed in do- fining any characteristics. At times he will ap- pear to be conversing freely; ot others, and when any attompt is made at o leading question, an impenctrable mask falls over his face, like 3 veil, nnd the interlocutor isleft to coujecture nnlyhuug ho pleases, but able to rely on notling. “Ihave often met him driving a buggy. witha pair of commun-loukinfiu!;omea (first-rate trot- ters, nevertholess), looking like a commonplace, amiablo ourgeois, and sometimes walking along with a einister scowl on his face, and an uncom- promising determination n hin thin lips, which | might characterize 8 conspirator.’ THE ‘‘HEATHEN CHINEE." At s dinner party at Now York, tho Iady met Mr. Brot Harte, and bohind his chair stood the “ Hesthon Chinee,"—yes, & veritablo John Chi- naman, smooth-faced aud imperturbable, with tha pig-tail and looso garmonts, in the Ample sleeves of which any number of ‘‘aces” and “ bowors * might have been safely stowod away! The lady's neighbor—the author of * Littlo Breeches "—explained to her that the Celestial waa {llustrating cheap labor as a servant. THE NEGRQES. The opinion of the authoress is unfavorable {o the mised raco. “Give me & pure negro of either sex for a gervant, and, unless ho or sho bas been previously spoilt, I shall be certain to find the creature_devoted, grateful, respectful, honost,—aye, and even intelligent bard” working ; but nover would I sclect a half-broed ; the chances of his or _her turning out to be de- ceitfal, impudent, and dishonost, are too great tobe risked.” The negroes have good mannora and pleasing address 88 & 6 ; they are delightiully good-natured, and, though she watched gangs of men at work on the streets, she never once heard a negro swear. Though their language is by no means grammatical, * it is far less offonsive than that of the illiterate class in England.” AN AMERIOAN * mOME.” With the following picture of a home on the Hudson, at which the authoress stayed with a distinguished family, my notice of this sgroes- ble little book must close: * What a bhaven of rest s this exquisite spot, which looks as if, no matter ot what season of the year, the sun must :slways ehine, and the soft breezes blow to the delicious music of bright-winged _ song- stern; s I e waterm of - ibs Hudson loved to linger under the orarhanging treos, which strotch further back into woods deep and quiet, breathing coolnesa and balmy rest and solitude; where the wander— er, peering through the folisge of hemlock, beoch, dog-wood, oak, chestnut, and pine, into soft haziness of bine space, and’ caressed by tho shades as with the touch of angols, dreams of El?-sium between Heaven and Earth. “ And the honse; it does not look as if it had been built, but as if it had been grown thero, under the trees, a larger granite boulder than the moss-grown ones which hore and there rise to break the line of turf or underwood. What English home could surpass it in comfort,—that word which the Anglo-Saxon race alono under— stand, and which, with all the modern contriv- ances, has almost become synonymous with luxury. Tho porches are all round the house, from which, reclining in rocking-chaira or gwinging in a hammock, you may watch the squirrels chasing each other among the troes, and traco the whito sails of the boats on the river sgainst tho dark backgronndof the oppo- eite shore, or listen to the evening concert of the robins, who sing to each other after sunset, and meanswhile dream your happiest dreams of ‘memory and of lmpe. T have sat, in contempla~ tion of the moon's silvery light, on the dark rinc!, on the placid waters, and on the distant andscape, until I thoughtI must be in fairy- lond. The rooms, with all the gladnoss of tun- ‘shine and viows in symmer, and huge wood-fires in winter; the Juxury of books; the scent of flowers ; and last, though not loast, the horses and dog®,—the desr dogs, who thnn%h properly disciplined, are_not reiegated fo what ‘non-dog- lovers' call their places, but are made frien and companions of.” THE DIAMOND BUBBLE. From au‘“th! great Pacific Slope, land rich in wineaad nrmai'll'éué rumors came, tlat resd liko falry fales of old, Of crimson rubles scattered round, and dismonds by the acre, e ‘Esrth so vory kind, one only hsd to rake er. Two honest miners from the West had made the lucky find, And sold for half a million gold to men of frugal mind, ‘Who started off in joyful haate upon a first * prospect- ‘ing, And soon returned with jowels rare, all of their own collecting. Now, in the Dismond Valléy tale, so neatly told by Although the gema'in plenty lay, yet one was “taken For aftor one had erammed himaelf with lots of pre- clous stones, ‘He couldn’t climb the mountain, and he had to leave his bones. Dt hero in Arizona thers were diamonds by the ton, ‘Aud evory other brillzat stons that fashed benedth e fun ; 5 A millicn sparkling diamonds Iay loosely fn the gravel, bag And any man “who knew the spot ” could fill his and travel, Again the owners cf the field went on s tour prospect- g,” ‘With one expert from Yankesland, on sclence bent, Bat when &pug'm dlsmond ming all wearlly they altod, They met one Eing, who blandly emiled, and oft ‘peated—* Salted.” i = ‘Wiser: ;\d‘:m{!z{- ‘homeward cams theso sharp men of e West ; An aching vold sy buttoned up benesth each throb- Tho honcet iisers ¢rom the slope i h 0 honest miners from the slope * eloped” when ! a milfon gold to pay ihem for their trouble, ikl MomAL. To ovariclous, greedy men, who dresm of fields of rabies, And jewels ‘tn tenacre lots: Take warning by {hese boobies. As for the “honest miners two,” bear not the absent malice; And if you buyup dlamond mines, accept *“cum grano salis.” .- —Sam. Eglinge in the New Fork Evening Post. —_— i Eccentric Willy, _Fortunatus Droynul of Strasburg commenoced hin will( Chambers' Journal) by stating that his firmdhlher gave him twenty-four livres when 0 was eight years old, which, in sixty-four years, had increased to 500. This lsst named sum Dreynul directed ehould be divided into five gimions. and inveated to the best advantage. o colculated that, by the end of a contury, each portion would bo represented by 13,000 livres, and at that time the first- portion” was to be expeaded in reclaiming a morass near his native village: A hundred years later, the next ortion, increased to 1,700,000 livres, was to e used to found aighty ‘prizes for the en- couragement of husbandry, At the end of tho third century his execulors would have 220,000,000 livres at their disposal, which they Were to applyin catablishing * Lomber houses, wheze honest, industrious mon could obtaln loans without interest; and in building twelve musenms and twelve libraries in different cities, each endowed with an 1ncome of 100,000 livres for the support of fifty scholars. At the end of the fourth century, a hundred new towng were to.be built and peopled with 15,000 inhebitants, for which_the teatator thoughf the tbirty mil- liards of livres would suffice. Thelast fifth, swollen in 500 years to four thousand milliards of livres, was to b devoted to paying off the national debt of thetestator's country, and what- ever remained wasto be applicd inthe same way for the benefit of Englishmen, “in grati- tude for Newton's beantiful work, ‘ The Univer- 88l Art of Arithmetio.’” Not long since & clergsman left more than £10,000 for the yurfosa of establishing & school for illegitimate chifdren only. A Presbyterian mouths of many in this country water. - THE BAILWAYS. The European system on the railways is pre- ferred by our present authority, chicfly because the comforts of your system are so subservient 1o the length of one's purse. Fromthe great Erie Princes down to the conductors, corruption, e aro assured, reigns supreme amongst (he railway officials, and * Frand is taken s a mat- ter of couree. - AMERICAR HOSPITALIIY. | A tribute to American hospitality is ungrudg- ingly made. “We frnluau," ‘says the autlioress, “to understand and exercise that attribute, bul the Americans far surpass ns, With us, the courtesy extended to a stranger flavors some- what of condescending urbanity, and is subject to the influence of position and ancestry ; but an American i a8 hospitable -as an Arab; he doos | not send forth a messenger to demand your divineleft o legacy to a church in Bt. Ives, to provide balf a dozen Bibles a year, for whic} six males and six females were to throw dice on ‘Whit Tueeday in the church, while the minister Xnelt it the communion table and prayed God to direct the lota to his glory. Tulle, of Wath, near Rotherham, bequeathed one penny to every child who attended his funeral (700 claimed their Yem}ie!fi one shilling to each poor womsn in Wath; half » guines to the ringers to atrike off a peal of grand bobs as his cofin was lowered into the 'grave; one ines to sevan old navigators for him up in his /grave; and only n_guines fto_an old ‘woman who had -tucked him up in bed every might for eloven years. Lieutenant Colo- nel Nash left £50 per annum o the corporation of Bath for the benefit of the ringers of the Ab- bey chuzch on the condition of their ringing with mugled cappers, ceriain dolefal changes, from 8 in the morning till 8 at night, at the anniversary of his wedding day, £2d ranging bob-msjors and mirthfal peals in zunual commemoration of his heppy releaso by decth from domestic tyranny | and sretchedoese. In 1434, o loysl citizen, ono Henry Barton, de- vised cerfain lionses and eliops for people o live in, Tent fro0, 20 long as they devoutly, prayed for the wholesome estate of Honry VI., King of England, and lus heirs, Kings of Englund, wo long as they should live, and for tho souls of the King and his heirs afier their’ death. A" German, troubled bow to "dis- poso of Lia money, bequeathod it to a poor man whom Lo detested, npon tho condition that he always wore thin white linen clothes without any undorclothing. A Mr. Sergoant, of Leicester, ‘songht to improvo tho babits of lus bed-lov_mmcp!m\vs by putting the following clause in his will: - - ; i 4 As my nophews aro fond of indulging them- selves in bed in the moming, and aa I'wish them to prove, to tho satisfaction of my execntors, that they havo got out of bed in the morning, and either cmploged themsclves in businces or taking excrcise in tho open air from 5 to 8 o'clock every morning from the 5th of April to the 10th of October—being threo hours oach day—and from 7 to 9 o'clock in the morning from the 10th of October to the 6th of April, being two_hours every morning. This is to bo done for some yours, during, tho first sovon years to the eatisfaction of my executors, who may excuso thom in case of illness ; but tho task mast be ‘made up when thoy are well, and if they will not do this, thoy shall not receive any share of my property. Stanislaus Polizmarz, of Pesth, left the groater portion of his wealth to o Hungarian notary, forbiddihg him to take possession, however, until he had sung at La Scals or the 8an Carlo the parts of Ottelo and Efvino. ‘I do not dis- poso of wealth in this manner,” wroto -the eccontrio octogenarian, “for the sake of being thought an original, but.having been present four years at an ovoning party in Vionna, I heard M. Lotz sing a cavantia from cach of these operas with a beautiful tenor voice, thero- fore I beliove him likely to becomo_an excellont artist. Inany caso, if the public hisscs him, he can console himaelf oasily with throo millions of florins which I leave him.” Wo suppose the lucky notary has consoled bimsclf. z NINE GREAT MUSICIANS. Bach, Xandel, Haydn, Mozart, Bee= thoven, Weber, Spohr, Schubert, and Mendelssohn,’ Duight's Journal of Music, Bach, Handel, Haydu, Mozart, Beethoven, are the five men to whom I would especially point as having sn undoubted right to tho title of + Kings of Musio,” and to their works and con- sequent influence the art of music is indebted for the position it occupies, If to these names are added those of Wober, Schubert, Spobr, and Mendelssohn, there will bo a total of nine, and I do not think I shall be accused of exaggeration if I assert that it is to theso mine great men that the world is indebted for the grester part of tho enjoyment and instruction that bave been derived from the’ practico of musio eince Bach first became known,at the commence- ment of tho eighteonth century. If it is asked why I name only nino grest men, snd why all those ehould be eclooted from one nation, T would reply that, though in France Cherubini, Auber, Herold, , Borlioz have lived ; though England has produced Purcell, Bof2e, Armo, Webb, Callcott, Wm. Horsley; thiough Italy was a8 much the cradle of music &5 of painting, and can boast, besides bor glorious church com- ‘posers, of Rossini, Bellini, Donizotti, Mercadants and others, and though even Germany will never forget Gluck, Spontini, Meyer- beer, Marachnor, otc., yet these men, great na. they woro, havo sexclusively. de- voted themselves to one style of composition ; France, Germany, and Italy to operatic music; in England £0 church and glee writing ; ‘whereas the nine°I havo selected applied them.- selves to and succeeded in every known form of ‘musical composition, from the sublimest sacred works to tho lightest dance music. ~This great vereatility, therefore, entitles them to mors con- sideration than those who haya enly becn distin- ished in one branch of ihdir art, and it is for this reason that I would urge their claims to the high position in which I conceive they should be placed ; and if it has happened that all these nine_men_were from ono_nation, Dach, Handel, Epobr, sod Mendelssohn, from the north; and Haydn, Mozart, Becthoven, Schubert, and Weber from the sonth of Ger- ‘many, it can only be replied that art has no country, and that musicians must bo judged by their works and the power they have asserted on the minds of their hearers, without reference to the nation from which they sprang. I should be far too long in arTiving at the immediate ob- ject of this paper, it I allowad myself to dwell a¢ any xangz§ on the individuality of each of the nine compositors I have named; but it will ba necessary to relate any of the oxtremely happy circumstances under which Aendelszohn lived and worked, 60 will it not be out of place to re- fer to the painful struggles and difficalties of at lenst five of his compeers, the beauty of whose 'works may almost be 8aid to be enhanced by tho troubles ~unler which they were pro- duced. John Bebastian Bach, by far the ‘most sclentific musician the world has yet seen, commenced %is career. under the most painfnl circumstances. His elder brother endeavored by every means to quench his genins for masic, and, by denying him light at the only period of the day which ho could devote to self-instruc- tion, 1aid the foundation of an eyo disease which ended in total blindness. In addition to this his worldly mesns wero of thesmallest, and the burden of a very large family must have greatly added to his pecuniary * roxieties. In spite of thease obstacles, he lived.tho most industrious of lives, and not cnly produced the most incredible number of works, all of which, be thoy large_or emall, are immortal, but he educated fivo of his sons fo be most excellont musicians, snd thus proved his name to be a veritable * Bach,” or stream, of the profoundest depth and cloarnoss.. Handel's early life was full of troubles. Ho *wandered from ono Italian town to another, roducing operas, and certainly making a name, ut it was not until after be was 50 yoars of ago that he struck out that path of oratorio writing which has made bim immortal ; and though st Lis death he left o largo fortune, yet even in England his losses caused him more than one beokruptey. 5 Haydn, to gain instruction, was compolled to erform menial service for his firat master, Porpora, whom _compelied. him, to black hia boots and brush his clothing in return for & very emall modicum of tau:hmg; and even when in the servico of Prince Esterhazy his position for many years was littlo botter than that of a lacquey. he whole course of Mo- zart's life was beset with troubles. The Arch- bishop_ of Balzburg, into whose service he entered at the age of 16, soems to_have delight~ od in plagning the ccmposer's lifo with every specios ognpmy tyranny, and when atlast he broko through tho toils and, a8 it were, escapod to Vienns, his greatness raised him o host of enemies, and his good_nature, his kindnessin assisting others, and his gonial temperament and love of society brought him into so much ecuniary difficulty that his funeral cxpenses Exd to be defrayed at tho cost of the parishin which he lived. v The saddest case of all, however, was that of Boothoven. Although bis fathor seems to have been a very morose, hard-hearted man, yet, being » musician, ho scon discerncd the dswhing gen- ius of his fon, and gave him overy facility for learning the frst principles of bis art. At early age he went to Vieons, studied Gndar Albrechtsbergor and Hadyn, and it was _pronounced by Mozart ~ on hear- ing bim extemporizo: _“The world will hear of that young man.” Each succeedin year proved. the trath of this prophocy; bul toward the beginning of 1800 the dreadful mal- ady of deafness commenced, &nd increased dally, and for the last twenty years of his life, till 1837, when he died, Beethoven pever heard a note of his music, and excepting the means of sight, was quite nnable to conceive the effcct his ‘sublime inspirations had on his hearecs. So great & calamily is unexamplod in tho annals of art, and if anything could raise the opinion of such a man's” works, it would surely be knowl- edge that, in spite of the direst trial that counld blfl a masician, his_indomitable will, conrage and indoeiifriumphed over s misfortuns which_would “have crushed many others, and cauked them to_succumb to the evil, withont seeking a remedy for it in the exorcise of the Aalent entrusted to them. e s BRIDAL EVE. OB 1 emow-drifted midnight, now burning Iike dsy ‘With the glad crowniog moonlight thallightens the earth, : In thy mystical eflence the stars 1ook nd listen, ‘And the perrl-centred icicles glitter and gllsten, T stand in tho shadow, and muse on the past; Love's brightness has driven all sadness awsy. Good bye, lova good chicer, fove ! the paths wo have To-rmorrow shall verge into one for this life, . 1 see the bright gleam of thy fzir bridal vesture; I tremble with bliss at thy beckoning gesture; Ietand on the verge of the Indnite's bourd, i And feel thy sweet love like a blessing of 6":‘ i : LARID. —An ungucceseful attempt is said tobe on faot, in Maryland, to prodice & ‘corner in oy3- ters.” In fish, now; there might bo & chance fot. an angle. . “AN UALY DOG.” “ Splish—aplash,” went that wretchod dog tbrough the mud, his ears hanging down and his tail Letween his lege. “ QOh! the ugly dog !” cried two young- girls who were earrying homo clothes from the wash. “ Oh ! tho ugly bruto!" houted a carier; and be gave Lis whip a loud crack to_frighton him, B tho dog took no heod of them. Ho ran pa- tiently on, only stopping st Lhe crosxings when thera wero too many carriages for him fo pass, but not sceming to Lusy himeelf at oll a5 to [hat peoplo said, or what they thought about Ho ren on 8o for 2 Jong way. No doubt of it, he wzs an ugly dog. He was lean sud ecragay. ILis coat was of a dirty gray color, and in many places {ho hair wds worn off in patehics. Neitlier wero there _any tokens tat Lo bnd over been o handsomo dog, and that his present state of wretchodnoss was owing merely to sudden misfortune. He looked, on the con- trary, as though Lo Lad_alwaya bocn an ill-fod dofi, haying desultory habits, no home to 7o to, and seldom anything Letter fo eat thin a chanco bone o a crust picked up in tho guttor. Yes, ho was cortainly o miserablo dog. . But I wondered to sco him fun g0 obstinatoly in tho middle of tho road, when there was room in plenty for him on the pavement. He was & emsll dog, and by dropping closo under the shop-fronts ho could Lave slipped unnoticed through the crowd, and not have exposed him- 8olf to bo run ovor by tho caba and Whipped by tho carters. Dut no; he proferred the road rhere the mud was, uid, Lo ran siraigli bofaro im, without looking right or loft, just exact 28 if o know the way. - v d 7 Imight have paid no moro attention to this dog, for thero aro cuough of whom I take on notice; but I obscrved that he Lad £ collar round bis neck, and that to his collar was ottsched a baekot. 'This sot mo thinking ; fora dog who carries baskot is cithor a dog sent out on an errand, or a ranaway dog who Lns left Lid mas- ter, and does not know whero to go. Now which could this onebo ? If Lo was a dog that ran on errands, why did not his owner feed him better, 50 that Lis ribs ehould look loss spare? Butif ho was & dog who Liad left his master, and run eway into tho world to face. care and troubls alone, what hardships or what_crueltios hed ho Liad t0 uffer, that ho should have taken such & step in despair? I felt I should liko to have these questions answerod, for thore was some- thing of mystery in them ; I thareforo followed o dog. We wore in Oxford streot, in that part_of it which lics between the Marble Arch and Duke street, aud the dog was running in tho direction of the Regent Circus. Itwasa dull wet day in wintor; the rain Lad been falling. A gray fo ras spfeading iy vapors along tho xoud, an every ons looked cofd and uncomfortable. A few shops wero boing lighted up here snd thero, for ovening was setting in. Dut tho contrast botwoen the glare of the gas and the occasional glow of the red coal fires burniug cheerily in the grates of ground-floor parlors, only served to maske the streets secm more dark and dreary. And yot the dog weut pattering o, going at & sort ‘of quick jogtrot pace, Leping Lis oars alwaya down, and paing no attontion sither to the omnibnsés that rolled by lum, tho coster- mongers who woro at him, or the otber dogs who stopped at times with a_puzzled air, and guzed gt him with ilont vonder. I had to step out.fast to keep up with him. It is sstonishing how thut squalid dog could trot! I was afraid more than onco that he would distance me, but, thanks totho knack hohad of always keoping to the middle of the road, I was prevented from losing eight of him. We passed North Audley stroef, after that Duke street, and we then camo oppo- sito n' small etrect which forms a very narrow and dirty thoroughfare at the end which is near- est Oxford streot. Hero thodog paused fora moment, and sppéarcd to hositate as to what he ehould do. He made o fow steps forward, then receded; but, finally, seomed to mako up his mind, end entored tho streot, still trotting. Theré was 10 ono thero. The dim drizzling riin, which bad begun fo.fall sgain, the cold, and the fog had all scared sway the hubit- ual froquenters of the one or two gordid cook- ehops that line both sides of the way. There was only a rag-and-bone-man gorting broken Dottles at his door, and_coughing wheezily from oldage and mieery. The dog went on. Tho street grows wider as one_proceeds, and the housgs also become better and cleaner. ' I asked myself wrhetber tho dog could posibly bt bis home about hera, and whether hewould not sud- denly disappear down an ares, in which caso tho romanco of the thing would have becn ended, and Ishould havo had my walk for notning. But no, be turnod abruptly off at & mews, and after a few seconds of the £ame apparent hesita- tion as bofore, elacked Lis pace and stopped op- posite a public house. A mews is never quite cmpty. Thero aro always ‘grooms loafing nbout in doorwaye, or stable-boys going in and out of wash-houses. At the moment when the dog and I appeared, & coachman was harnessing two horses to o Dbrougham, and a couple of men wero helpin him. Opposito, and exchanging remarks i them from tho' threshold of tho public-houso. stood o servant in breechos smoking & long clay pipe ; the dog was standing etill ; but all st oncs, before I had time to suspect wwhat wes going to hnppen, ho roso up on his hind legsand commenced walking gravely round in circlos. The man with the breeches and tho clay pipe uttered acry of surpriso. The two others and the conchman raisod their heads, and, upon eeo- ing thia strango sight, left their work and clus- tored up to look. A fow moro people, sttracted by tho noiso, camo and joined ms.’ Wo Soon formed s ring. 1t seemed to please the dog to sco us allaround him, for ho gravely wagged his tail once to and 1r0,'and triod to put more spirit into his oxercise. Ho walked fivo times round on his binder legs, looking fixedly beforo him liko . &oldier on _duty, sand doing his bost, poor dog!—I could evo that— to make us_laugh. For my part, secing the othiors remain speechless in their astonishment, Tlanghed aloud to cncoursgo him ; but shall T say tho trath ? I folt more ready to cry. Thero was something evpressibly sad in tho eerious ox- pression of this loncly dog, performing by him- 8elf a fow tricks_that some absont master had: tanght him, and doing 80 of his own accord, with somo secrof end in view that ho himself only oould know of. _ After taking a moment's rest Lo sct to work again, but this time on his foro-feat, pretending to sfand on his head. And whata poor, inteligent hosd it way, au almost shaving the ground, It looked appealingly at us all, an scemed to 6ay : “*Pleaso do not play sny pravks with me, for roslly I am not doin this for fun.” When Lo had walke sround on _his head until ho was weary, ho Iay down in the midst of the ring and made believo to bedosd. He went through all the convalsions of a dying dog, breathing heavi- y, panting, aufforing his Jovar jaw 1o fall, and en turning over motionless, ‘And he did this 80 well that 8 stout, honest-faced woman, who Liad been looking on without_ laughing, exclaim- ed “ Poor beast {" and drow her band ficross her oyos, The rain continued to fall, but not one of us thought of moving, only the dog, when he had Iain dead & minuto, got up and shook himself, to &how us all that tho porformance was ended. He bind displayed the oxtont of what he knew, and now came forward to receivo his foe. Ho stood up on bis Lind lega again, and, walking to each of us soparately, assumed tho posture that is popularly knows as * begging.” _Iwas the first to whom he came. He gazed at me in- quiringly with Lis satt syes wide opene and followed m& hand patiently to my waiatcost-pocket. 'Tho basket round his neck was s round ono with a 1id to it tied down with string, and & little slit in the lid through which fo put 1a monay. I dropped in & shilling snd stooped down to read s bit of crum- pled papor I saw hanging loosely from the col- lar. 1tbore these words, written 1n s shaky hand: *This ia the dog of a poor man, Who ia bod-stricken; he earns the bread of his mastor. Good people, do not keep bim from returning to his home.” The dog thanked me for my offer- ing by wagging his tail, and then passed on to my neighbor. Human 'nsture must bo kinder thian people think, for there was nat one of the spectators,—not even ho with the breeches and the clay pipe, whose faco had impressed me un- favorably,—but-gsve the dog something. Asfor him, when he had gone his round, he barked two or three times to say good-bye, and then pattered contentedly away at the same jog-trot nace he ad come. o ‘Ho went up tho stroet, and I followed him, but when we had resched Oxford street ho quicken- ed suddenly, and began torun hard, 28 if his day wns ended -and Evening had quite tallen by thia time, and I telt it would bo nseless to go after my four-logged mystery on_foot, 20T called & cab, and emid: “Folow that dog,” very much to the driver's amazement. ¥ 1t iaslong wayfrom that part of Oxford street in which wo wereto Tottenham Courk road, whore the small dog led me. But I should have underetood the ' journey bmd it not been made at euch a forious pace. Tho dog never onice looked round. . Twenty times I thought he Foud bo crushed by passing vans and casriagos; bul domehow he got through it. Ho had an extroordinary tact for finding s passage be- tween horses’ hoofs,snd, like & truo London dog as he was, ho showed intimate familiarity with all the intricacies of crossings. Still, it was soms Telipf;to me, both on bis own account and oa mine, whan I saw him branch off at last. I was beginning to fear that ho would rover stop, that ke had something of the Wandering Jow in him. It seemed impogsiblo that, without taking any rest, without even pausing -for an instant to draw breath, such a very loan dog should Leop on going so long. Tottenham Court road (this was about eighteen months ngg} used to be a sort of fair at night-timo. It is a lengthy high- woy running amidst s tangled network of sor straote, tho population of which, from d until'the hour when tho public-houses close, used to spread hungry and idle amongst ths, countloas booths which had then not_yet Leen swept away, - and _ whero shell- fish, sour fruit, aund indigeatible-look- ing ment wero Bold by yelling costermongers. On the higi:t in question, when I went thero in. ursuit of the dog, I foresaw that I should be led to one of thoso sickly nests of fever, where poverty, disease, and misory have their abodos 8et up in permanence ; and I was not wrong. . Tho dog, running faster than ever now, as if he felt more afraid for Lis basket amongst these ravenous crowds than ho had done at the West End, bolted suddenly up a narrow sido street, where thero was no zoom for.a cab to pass. paid tho drivor, snd jumped out. It was a i1thy streot, but that was a secondary matter. Where tho l.ltlEl went Iwonld go; and thus I dodged after him, first down n crooked alley, thon through s foul court, and lastly up a pas- sago whora it was pitch dark. Hore I groped my way along o damp wall, and stum- blod upon ilo first step of a staircase. Being & smoker, however, I had some vesuians puper fsith it, and by tho moment’s fiamo I thus obtained descried the dog making his way up s cresky flight of wooden steps, battered in places and rotting from mould. Ho barked whon ho saw the light, and growled unoasily. But I soft- ened my voice, and cried out, * Good dog ! good dog!" trying thereby to anpesso him. I suppose Lis instinct told him that 1 was not an ememy, for ho turned round to aniff my_trousers, and when I struck a second vesuvian ho consented to my nccompanying him without doing anything elgo but continuo his enifiing. Wo wontupthreo stories in this way, until wo Tosched the garret floor: There were two doors face to face, and omo of thom bnd s latch with a pieco of string ticd fo it. Tho string dengled with o loop at its end to within & few inches of the ground. Tho dog raisod one of his fore- paws, prossed it on the loop, and by this means openod tho door.. Wo both walked in togethor. There was rushlight burning in tho neck of a ginger beer bottlo. There was an cmpty gauce-pan ina grate without the fire. Some tatterad clothes were hanging on the back of & broken chair, and_some bits of plaster, fallen . from o cracked coiling, were encumbering _the floor. On the gplinterad desl table was » plato with a solitary bone on it, and next to it & cup with the handlo gono. 1 turned from the sight of theso things to & mattress laid in s corner of the room. The light was rendered go flickering Py tho gusts of wind that wept throngh tho window,—to which bits of newspsper had been pasted for want of glass,—that T could ot a¢ Irstdistinguish very olearly whero Iwas, and whatI eaw. I could onlyliear tho affectlonate whinings of tho dog, and vaguely £co him leaping upon some one ogainst whom he was rubbing his hesd, and whose face ho was licking with an exuberance of love. Iheards voice, too—but voice 8o husky and broken, that 'it rosembled o wbispor—ropeat fectly, “Good dog—good Jim " and then I saw a hand untie the baskot, and heard the sound of money poured ont on the couch. : A # Good Jim !—good Jim !” went on the cracked voice; and it began_counting, *One, two. Ob, good Jim {—good Jim ! herd's s shilling. Ono- and-threepence, one-and-ninepence, two shil- lings. Ob, gooddog! three and a penny, thrae and " But bero followd » terrific shrio Who's that ?” criod theman, covering up the ‘money with his sheet ; and he looked at mo, liv- . id and haggard with the ague of fover. & Don't be. trightoned,t T eaid ; + I am come to#o you no herm. Iam afriend. I have fol- lowed your dog home, and I desire to help you if you ‘are in need.” e seemed to bo s man about 50, for his hair 2o uoi all grsy 3 bt the ghastly hollowness of his cheeks, the emaciated condition of his body, 2nd, above all, tho gleam of diseaso in his burn- ing eyes, made him older than & man of 90, for thl:{ told more plainly than words could have told, that he Lad alrendy one foot within his gravo.. Ay tone and my sppearance seemed to reas- sure him ; .but ho continued to hido his money. “T an 8 poor man, sir,” he gasped,— s _vary poor man. I have nothing bnt what mydog oarns me, and that's nothing. Ho goea out to idle; andif he picks up a few pence ™ (here the man had s fit of hectic conghing)—if he picks up 8 fow penco, sir, it's all Fo do pick up." 1 folt my heart ache, for I had guessed the truth. “ He's not an idlo dog,” I said. * Has he not earned you more than three shillings to-day?" “Oh, o sir,—no, sir; it's threepence,” pro- tested fhe miser, trembling. “It's threepence, —threepencé, sir. Look and see.” And ho held up threa copper coins from ont of his covering. i “You arevery ill, my man,” I eaid, approach- ing his mattress. * You must let me’send you & doctor.” “Oh, sir! no, no; I-Ive no money to give them. 'Let me alono, please. I'm not ill; I shall be well to-morrow, 1t's nothing but a cold —a—a cold.” His dog was continuing to ligk bis face, 1 ro- memborod that the poor brate had not eaten. “Your dog must be hungry,” I observed; ":lllmul givo him this bono? Ho has earned i #0b, God!—Oh, God! Lot that bono slone,” faltored tho unhappy wroteh. tryiog to riso; it's my supper for to-night. im doocsn’t want on; uE' ho picks up plenty in the streets. gh!_o § "L ehall starve of you give him that o : ¢+ willbuy you sometbing to est,” T saawered, tsking up the bone, to which thera was no par- ticle of flosh Teft.* * Hero, Jim,” said I, holding it out. Butthe dog, insfoad of sccopting the bone, Tooked. wisttully st bia mastar to sk for eave. -~ “NolnolJim,” panted the miser fearfally ; and the dog turnéd away his head, refusing to be onticed. “ How long have you been laid up like this 2” was my next question. I was growing sick at heart.” “ Ten weeks, sir,—oh ten weeks,” groaned tho mon—who Lad caught the bone out of my hand and thrust it under his pillow—‘‘ ten weeks ; and whon I fell ill the dog went out one morn- ing nud brought s Back 8 penny n his moath. Since then, I bought him s basket andhe goes e wanted toget home.. out everyday. - . . but he's—he’s_idlo, sir,— he's idle ; ho brings me nothing to what he used to do do when we went out together. Yes—ob, yes ! he's an idle dog !” Bat why prolong such o dislogne? Is thero anything more depressing than the sight of moral infirmity coupled with bodily discase? This palsied miser was a rich man; af least rich comparetivoly to his atation. He had made himeelf 8 small fortune by the intelligence of his dog, and his sudden illness, instead of re- ducing him to poverty, had, on tho contrary, only added to his means. The dog earned more slone than ho had ever carned with his master. Ench morning, at the break of day, he went ont With Lis empty basket, and every night at sun- got hoe returned with it half full. Ilearned this from the miser's neighbors; honest people though poor, who pretended to belicve in {he feverad wrotch’s tales of want, in order that he might not have cause to dread them, and 8o re- fuge their necessary services. . There is_s grest deal of this innate, unsus- pected _delicacy in the heartsof the working poor. These rough and uncouth, but kindly na- tures, tonded the graceless miser in hia sickness. They bought_his food for him, they washed his iinen, and thoy asked for no payment for any- thing they did.” As for the unhappy man’s gold, it was at their mamdy ; but the thought of touch- ing it never seeme cross their minds, *Only,” said one, with s naive accent,' “I think, Bir, 'twill be better when he's laid in the ground. His money ‘might be good then to Eome 28 would make use of it.” g > ‘¢And the dog?” I murmured, reflectively. “The dog's his friend, sir,” was tho neighbor's answer, **and he won't live long when his mas- ter’s gone.” And these words were prophecy. I sent for & doctor, for a nurse, and for nourishing food, to battle against death; but our efforis were useless. The miser lived & week, and upon each of the saven d.fi the dog "went ot according to his habit, with his basket round his neck, snd remained out for ten or twelvs hours, till dusk. Sometimes I followed him from morning ill evening ; seelng . which, and remembering my fece as that which stood daily by his master's bedside, he wagged hia tail at my spproach, and coneented to walk at my heels. ~ One nighh tho miser died, and on the morrow Jim did not go out. He had missed his master the night be- fore, and guessed .that thoy bad -put him ins long black box that stood in the middle of the room. Whenthe men came to carry away this lon; black box, the dog went after them, and crie He followsd the cofiin to the cemetery, whers ha and I were the only spectators besides the curate, tho esexton, and tho undertaker's men. . When the earth was thrown in, he looked at me plaintivaly, to know what it meant, and, ‘when the burial was over, he wished to remain near_the open tomb, waiting till his master should rise. I took him home with mo, but he about mo. I struck onc, lit o piece of twisted |. would not eat, and next morning at sunrisq gyw‘]ed»l;r é:j% t:;akg;k Tt Was o ass keeapifl: im, so I tied tho basket round hi sa%};:im out. - T ¢ ovening, foresesing what would ha: I wont to the cometerv. The dog Areat ok nightfall, with his basket full of turned them alleout upon fhe grave. s Eoms, Jim," .1 said, with tears rising to my eyes; bat ho whined ‘mournfully, and bri scratch up tho earth. Tiice Tmare he we::l o like this all day, and brought back money for his master ; -but on the third evening, findin that tho penceon tho gravo remained unfonched: Le suflered me, without resistance, to take off "bis collar, and Jay* down at full length near the miser's last dleeping-place. Tho next morning ho did not go 2a 2a remmds, for ho was dead ! N ———g—e—a— REMEMBRANCE. “Cold in the earth, and the deep snow plled atove thee, Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave, . Have I forgot, my only love, to love thce, Severed at [ast by time'sall-sovering wave 7 Now, when removed, do my. thoughts no longer hove. Over the mountains on that northern shore, - Resting their wings whero heath and feru-leaves covel Thy noble heatt forever—evermore ¢ - Cold in thy grave, and fiftcen wild Dacembers '~ From these brown hills have melted into Spring ; Faithful, indeed, the lovo ia that remembers After such sears of change and suffering. Siweot lovoof south, forgive if I forget the,. While the worls tide i3 bearing me along'; Other desires and other hopes beset mo, Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thes woaag,. o later light has lightenod up my heaven, No eecond morn has ever shon for me ; A1l my Iife’s blisa from thy dear life was given, All my life’s bliss is 1o tho grave with thee. But when the dzys of golden dreams hnd perished, And oven despair was powerless to destroy, Then did I learn how existence could be cherish>g, _.Btreogthened and fed without the aid of joy. Then did I check the tears of-useless psssion, Meaned my soung soul from yesrulng atier tims Sternly denfed its burning wish to hasten ~ Down to that tomb already mors than mine, And oven now I daro notlet it Jangaiah, Dare not indulge in memyry’s rapturous pain. Onco drinking decp of that divinest anguisn, How could I taste tho empty world again? ~—Euiily Bronte. " A Soolooese Tragedy. From “Sea Faring Men," an Unpublished Tale of tha Sea, by Hedtor A, Stuart. The weather was now intensely hot, snd the shortness of our supply of water forcod us t@ stzeteh for Sooloo, which we did, tho wind being light but in our favor. On the third day, st noon, wo fell in with » prabm from the Lugutam islands, which we compelled to pilot us throngh: the archipelago. Having. narrowly —escaped grounding on o sand-bar, we_arrived st the. group, and, camo o sachoroff the island of asilian. It was lying off this island that a very- tragic affair took place, which I cannot farbeay to montion. There Were two brothers, large,. powerful men, who lived in & little hut about & stone's cast from the sea. They were mem of' some authority, but a8 arrant rogues as could bo. found undor the equator, quarrelsome and mis chiovous to a degree. Tt chanced ome day theso two worthics_cama on board the ship on pretence of trading, but ir. reality tostesl. Ourmon bad their eyes upon. them'; but, in spite of their wariness, -the ras- cals got off ' with a broadas, which they carried. to their hut and triumphantly diaplayed to their wives, who, 08 a matier of course, admirod it ex-- ceedingly. But an ax is not casily divided; and,. when tho thieves camo {0 share their plunder, thero was n calch in the business, 28 each claimed an_equal portion. Thoy had both been: drinking sam-shoo, and their ‘blood wss not. cooler on that account ; snd 8o the matter ended. in s quarrel, which might have proved serious: but’ for the -interferance of the womes, wha succeaded in allaying the feud,—tho younges. brothor, strangely encogly giving up bis claim. to the booty. This was all the clder brother wished, The disputants_clasped bands, and seemed to be as good friends s ever. = But. the younger brother was bont on vongeance, Which, howavar, o fook care £0 conconl, aod, by the warmth of his spparcnt fiiondship, lulled. the suspicions of his victim. Thro days pussed. In the mcantime ha worked intently in the forest, and by herd Iabor dug » pit, the mouth of which he:covered. ith & layer of junglo, grass, tigs, and ariod leaves, 80 skilfolly as to deceive the most experienced woodman, This done, he: informed hia brother that s white man_from. the “ big canoe,” meaning our ship, had gona. into the woods' & good way, and was lying: down aleep in s retired spot. The whito man, hosaid further, had & sword and a brace of pistSe, and, a5 ho waa alon and asloep 1t would an eazy matter to kill him and got his arms. and whatover else of value ho had with him. The elder brother, who was always ready for any piece of roguery, took fire at the tidings and :- willingly sgreed £ join the other in his murder-- ous resolution. -His wife, however, by ono of* those_mysterious presentiments which often. gervelike warnings from tho spirit world, en- deavored to dissuade him, but ho spurned her* counsel and wedt away with his enemy. Tha. ‘woman, whose suspicions now rose to & poink. almost unbearab 6, followed the two men, leay~ ing tho wife of the younger brother asicep in the hat. - Tho night had already fallen ; tho cry of tha jnckal was heard; thobat wheeledslowly throngh the openings in the trees, and a palo treak on the horizon showed where the moon was strug-, -gling to shed her light upon the darkened land~ Scape. The two men moved on, followed by tha ‘woman whose terror, thouzh great, was over-, come bg‘: still atronger emotion. i Reachiag & retired place in the forest, tho man psused, sud the woman drew back unden the ehadow of & magnolia_tree, where she stood a covert spectator of their actions. The moon 1ad now risen, and filled tho scono witha ghoat= Iy a&}endflr; the light falling through a brealk in the treos on' the spot where the twa men hod halted, allowed the woman ta observe their actions with singular dis. tinctness. Suddenly she saw ono of them—her_husband—sjok into tho ground. A wild. cry followed, and ss tho_cchoes ran throughi the forest, the younger brother rais tho club and deal tho struggling man a mur~ derous blow upon the head. She sm&pm}.m sea no moro, butran back horrified to her but, * * & Tho women of these hot latitudes are of- ten courageons. They are davoted and revenge= ful. This woman, Taru, was ono of these ; sha loved her husband and was endowed with a _courage rarely found in her sex. Sho resolved to avenge the death of tho man eho loved, and arming herself with a longknifo, awaited the return of tho murderer. The minutes rolled by, heavily, but at length the sound of footsteps ronsed her to the fullest activity. Tho fratricide resched tho _doorwsy. Thers was no light in the hut eava ‘what fell from the moonbeams. The savage came on unmindful of danger, when, as ha crossed the threshold, the knife was buried in hisheart. He staggored, but but befors the wos man conld repeat tho blow he seized her by tha" wriet, and wrenched the knifo from her hand. It fell to the floor. A drendful struggle then took place; the woman striving to release ber- golf from the grasp of the assasin, and he, con~ scious that his wound was mortal, determined that her soul should follow. his to the land of ghadows. Tho sh’ngglu did not last long. Tha man fell heavily to the ground, carrying tho wo- man with him; " his_hand encircled her throat, and she struggled wildly to free herself from tha Ep which waa fastened upon her. But in vain, 0 clutch was that of death, and tho Iast gas, of tho devoted woman was mingled with that of her deatroyer. : .7-. A Crowner’s Quest. Boon after the elective system went into op- eration in the State of New York, a Coroner, who had been elevated to offico under the new plan; was called to sit upon the body of a de~ coased Italian, who had been found dead in an apartment not many equares distant from the five points. The proceedings were very solemn, tha dignity of the Coroner casting an atmosphera of legal dotermination overand through the jury rarely soen on former similar occasions. Every one presentseemed oppressed with responsibility, hils the newly-made Coroner ectuslly distendad with unborn justice. ‘The only Witness in the case was & small Italiag boy who understood no langnaze but his mother- tongue, while tho Coroner spoke Irisho-English ‘only. In this condition of things the examin ation of the witness took place, as followa : oner—‘¢ , where do you live?"” Boy stares and shakes his head. Coroner—*Do you spenk English " Boy repeats the shake. Coroner—*‘ Do you speak French?" Boy—Another shake. Coroner—* Hn speak German ¢ Boy—Reiteral vnggla of head. . Coroner—*‘ How old ara you?" Boy—Another shake. . Coroner—* Have you parenta 2" Boy—Bhake rapeated. Coroner—* Do you spesk Italian 2" Boy—Another s! , With not the least e7leat dence of Intelligence. . - Coroner—** Gentlemen of the jm? itisnousa going on with this examination.- You will ob~ serve I have addressed this witness in seven dif- ferent lan ‘Efi and cannot elicit an angwer. The court 18 obliged to adjourn.” \ Ny 4