Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, February 16, 1873, Page 5

THE CHICAGO DAILY TRIBUNE: SUNDAY, FEBRUARY ie, 187 WASHINGTON. Dare Congress Assemble oh the 4th of March Next ? Den Holladay’s Oregon: Road, and His Attempt to Reach the Senate, i The Goat Island Fight—“A Lobby- ist on the Floor,” The Union Pacific Railroad and Senator Edmund’s Amend=, ment, : A Feerful Plot--Motto for the ‘‘Be- . tween-Puddles. & From Our un Correspondent. WasHIvGTON, Feb. 9, 1972, Dare Congress pssemble and organize on-the « 4th of March? 5 - No, it dare not. . Receiving a fixed sum forthe round -year, instead of so much per diem, 88 shonld be the case, it would be indifferent, un- dor ordinary circumstances, whether it gave 100 days’ work or200 de”.s Tork. But now, fearing to put the charactel »' ts membership—yes, of » majority of the smme—to the test; it bhas an added incentive to fly. - . A resolution will be introdaced to restore the bill calling Congress together on the 4th of March. Mark who votés for it. and who against it! There is no good reason against ~this early convocation; it will ' cost i no more money ; it will ‘merely compel = gome work from the , new Congrebs, instend of a recess of nine months. If we can get the work out of that recess under tho prosent stimulation of public feeling, we shall have a perfect and wholesome examination of all the evils since 1861. < If it be not accorded, and a corrupted Congress snesk away, afraid of the explosion of the rotten egga which have been 1aid by it, be assured that there is one legislative body which will sit with open doors all tho recess: the Public Press! There is afatality aboutexposures; once started; they roll down s declivityin dsylight by the force of gravitation, all the world gazing up. (At present there are no party netessities to, be pleaded before the public constituency. Farmers, householders, mechanics, all moral people of every grade and profession, this is the point to make a stand!* Pour in your let- ters to your Congressman and your journals, and demand that the present Congress restore the law by which ita successor can reassemble on the “4th of March next. . A BCARE IN THE FOREIGN BOND MARKET. . 'Tho prospects multiply of a hearty scare in the matter of our railroad bonds, which have been sold abroadin such vast quantities unaer the stimulation of great land-grants. A low estimate makes the quantity of our securities of all sorts held in Europe to be .81,500,000,000. Besides, we have placed an enormous quantity of mining bonds—many of which represent no Teel value than than the late diamond-field hoax —upon credulous German bankers, employing for this purpose the unscrupulous services of -one of the great banks of the Pacific Coast. BEN TOLLADAY . is mow in this city, the President of the Orégon & California Road, for which relief.is songht | from Congress. His road is completed for .200 ‘miles, between Portland and Roseburg, and is designed to connect, across the Coast- Range with a California and Oregon rosd. But the mountain-range which interposes is formida- Ble, and immigration and ‘money do not keep -pace with the enterprise. A great Tawauis hangs over Holladay’s head, brought by the original projector of this sailvss, Jfr. Elliott, whom olladsy unceremoniously 6jectod after hismode of “dnvmfi things,” and the mighty Ben, who had believed that there was no limit to hib great- ness, found himself reddced, last year, to the ne- cessity of craving advice, 'The big men on the Pacific Const answered: “Ben, you must elect yourself to th United States Bepate in order fo establish your credit. That's the way to make things jump in the rail- way line now-a-days. ThoSenate is getting to be & Board of Railwny Presidents or their attor- _meys, and, if yon are not represented there in n or by counsel, you won’s appear sbroad ;(: t‘ew backed by the credit of all the United tates.” Hollndey conceived that this must be an essy ‘task. There was mobody -in.the way but his - Jowyer, Mitchell, and of .course lawyars were of no acconnt when their employers wanted them to hop down. .But Mitchell had set up thot place in the Benate for himéelf. He re- fused to hop down. Ben Holladsy craved, <ursed, and mede his wail in vain, Mitckell was elected, as a losser alter ego,’ snd Ben is omly <outside in the lobby. = . TODDYIST ON THE FLOOB. - i The Central Pacific Road has also been repre- . sented here, of late, by its Erc:kt Ajoy, Leland Btandford, ex-Governor of California. He is 2 elow-moving man, of slow circulation, and, in prospective, the richest man of America. 'His prospects are beyond which Vanderbilt possesses. He bas this much railway: Main line Central Pacific, 878 miloa; Californis Pacific, 90 miles; Ban Francisco & North Pacific, 90 miles ; Stock- ion& Coper_:mpolia, 64 miles; San Jose Branch, 44 miles; Visalis Division, 167 miles; Oregon * / Division, 170 miles; Alsmeda aud Oakland Branches, 20 miles. Fotal, above 1,500 miles of : railwey, besides all the steamers in the rivers 20d bays of California. Tho entire stage and mail system of tho coast is tributary to this corporation, which s to * Pacific Amer ica tho ‘vemous and arierial system, and this . practically under the control of three men. It +is the intention of these parsons, who but a litile while 250 wero shop-keepers and attorneys of Sacra- ‘Iento, to declaro where the the city of the Pa- cific Conat shall be, sud also to become the pos- sessor of the nearly’ bankrupt Union Pacific vay. Wken the resolution passed tho * House, s few days sgo, exprassing the sense of “that body that o part of Goat Island should be giren to s railway, the partisans of tho Cantral - l";:\fly made such exclamations as these: Well, we'll make San Francisco come 10 its {%eu;s va fl\lv?m p;fi‘ unh l.‘{:y of that coast at An- gjo. ~ They’ll b praying before lon, for mfiprgldl to ttném-GoAt Ish’;d’!?’ R g ople of San Francisco, a8 a corporation, 8 00 more to be considersd than o n‘i’fway cor- nl;m_m The point at issue is tho property of hflflgfied Statos, not a mother foot of which hould be parted to ccrporations; and this Jfia:lnd,_xp particular, has been declared an essen- - s military defence of San Francisco Bay by fl“mmpl::rm and Barnard, both of whom, Aftery-ogular and suspicious tergiversation. . Mtervard agfium?ea;ied that ;:y be allotted tothe )8 us do these mighty corporations, oo lausiblo protexts, ¢ influbnos” every depart fit of the public service, and the libertics of Continent are being surrenderod piecemeal sz 2ilo tnis resolution was pending, & piece of pudence, paralleled only by Jim DBrooks, was ’lp:rforrmed by Aaron A. Sargent, a man instant B flilensnn aod out of semson for his railway B M;HL Sargent. it is to be rememberod, takes o (Elm in the Senate for six years, next March, ol lu Euccessor of Cornelius Cole,—another ex- 2Ple of the Railway Board which-has been sub- s l?::ged foraSenzte. The passage was as fol- - T W. B. Boberts offered a resolution declaris x‘f:,"‘" the opinion of the House of Hepresentatives. Y w;x:flfir})edfim! now for the public interest that roan c Gfl:‘.l!hnfl shonld be ceded for rail- Mr. Sargent moved to In; P Mr. Sarg y the rezolution on the *d;{: Bejected—yens, 77 ; nays, 102, memain question was then ordered. i 3 it said thero were lobbyists on the floor of 2 Houge' who were abusing their privilege, and he #ed thst the rules be enforced. g.The Speaker neked Mr. Sargent to name the offen- 425 Sargent mamed Davald C. McRuer, of Calis The Speaker said Mr, McRuer wosan cx:member, ud was entitled to be on the floor, * Mr, Sargent eaid he was mot entitled to. abuse his ge. “&"h Speaker replied he would mot like to presume " fiat eny ex-member had violated his privilege unless” ‘e mstter was first investigated. 4 . Banks suggested that, beforo an_ex-member 90ld be condemned, there should be an investigation #2the facts by a Committee, 03, 3%, Sargens then made the point that Mr, AlcRuer . +—Rosc Terry in the Atlantic for March. had not registered with the Doorkesper, as was re- quired by the rules, The Speaker said that wasa question of fact, but the point would not be good as against the pending resolution. Mr, Sargent eaid he did not make it as against this resolution particularly. He only wanted to show that members were embarrassed in their action by the pres- ence of lobbylsts, The resolution was'then adopted without a division, The cause of tho adoption of the resolation was not indignation at Sargent's unmanly action, but the panic created by the Credit Mobilier ox- posures,—which, if pursued, will scarcely leave 2 quorum in Congress to expel the corrupted membgrs: g ‘Tho spirit of Sargeant in the above episodo i the spint of the railway tyrannies, which he not possess the Frudence to conceal, but antici~ pated tho despotism to which we maybe coming. Mr. McRuer represented the City of San Fran- cisco, was an ex-member of Congress, and yet, foraooth, was a lobbyist. The period may be at hand when the lobby and Congress will charige places, the tools of monopoly taking the seats, nd thie representatives of tho peoplo exposed to their insults whilo tho demi-privileged guests of the Doorkeepers. Burnt in “effigy once on the Pacific Coast, Sargent swore that Goat Island should pass, Fhotlor or an. Tho day in impond- ing when it shall be said on the floor, with the idness and moral meaning of & great convic- tion and duty : n by “Mr. Presidont, I sce lobbyiats on the floor.” And then, fully awaro of what the notification means, sbout one-half of the United States Sen-. ate will stop out of the door and never return. That day will come when Senators are voted for by the people, and not by areduced constituenoy of brokers in politics. | EDMUNDS' AMENDMENT. Horaco F. ‘Clarke, President of the Union Pa- cific Railroad, and eon-in-law of Cornelius Van- derbilt,—a bland, grandsire kind of man, who .would conciliate & crocodile even if it had sought to davour a member of his household,—has been before the Committee this week, protesting against Senator Edmunds’ amendment : And the Becretary of the 18 directed to withhold all payments to mygm Company and ita assigns, on account of freight or transportation over their respective roads of any kind, to the amount of payments made by the United Stafes for_intorest upon bonds of the United States issued to_any such Company, and which shallnot have been reimbursed, together with the 5 per centum of net earnings due and unapplied, a8 provided by law. And any such com- pany may bring suit in the Court of Claims to recover the prico of such fréight and transportation, and, in such suit, the right of such Company to recover tha same upon the law and the facts of the caze shall bo determined, and also the rights of the United States upon the merits of all the points presented by it in answer thereto by them; and either party to_such suit may appeal totho Supreme Court;and both said Conrts shall give auch causo or causes precedence of all other business, A large number of members are saying that the above is unjust. Then prove its injustice in the Courtg, 8s_is provided for! Provo it on appeal, as well in the Supreme Court of the nited States, where two railway lawyers are lodged, to the great scandal of American juris-| prudence. < In no private transaction known to man does & lender pay his borrower's interest upon_the lender’s own money. The Union Pacific Rail- way never proposes to pay one ccht of either principal or intercst, but to use the road until 1t is worn out, and then go into baukruptcy, or agree to lot the Central Pacific levy mpon it. One expectation is to raise half & million, and spond the same here, to prove that the Pacific roads have already been of such use to Govern- ment that their obligations ought to bo can- colled. S This road should be made an exampleof. It has presented all the phases of seductian, pro- fligncy, burglary, bribery, perjury, forgery. If it canniot pay ifs interest, let the Government clip off its biography, and dispose of it a3 & source of public disease. A FEARFUL PLOT. Ay, Horace Clarko exposed, o few days ago, s plot against him, the principal figurer in which was & Committee Clerk named Cowlam. Mr. Negley, of Pittsburgh, introduced s resolution in the House, which had been preceded by alarming. teleflphfifl despatches from Cowlam to Clatke, to this effect: *‘Honorablo Clarke! Idonot know you! Hence, the startling in- formation I give you is_tho warning counsel of &n honorable friend and the secre of Benja- min Batler. . An sttempt is to be made to_pizen you. A drendful conspiracy is planned. Thrice the brinded cat hath mewe wairl”, . To this, Clarke responded churacteristically with an.essay several reams long, breathing the essence of & gentlaman, a statesman, sweet bread and peas. . Another telegraph-despatch rejoined from Cowlam. The conspiracy was_the most dreadful Imown sirce the daysof Guy Fawkes, and headed by resolute and extraordinary men. One of these gigantio frechooters was to rise in Con- srosa and point lis way to thebooty, and all the Tost were to fill the breach. * Bo warned,” eays Cowlam, “ for my intentions neverweresinistor, gince I am the secretary of Benjamin Butler.” A lzwyer was sent down by the Owl Line, and he called on Cowlam. For this disinterested savior of the Union Pacific Road, hesaw s youth of afreckled physiogromy, with eyes which ssuxk.led at the rattlo of pennies, and -whiskers blown out from his chops, as if at the vigor of his own windiness. This was the rescuer of the corporation; and he pointed out, after much mystery, the dangerous authority who was-to have mounted the barricades. 1t was Negley, calmly arranging his hair at a glass. _The lawyer at onco stuck Cowlam's corre- spondence in the hands of the immaculate Jim Brooks. When N eslay mounted tho breach, Jim Brooks appeared at_the sally-port, and pre- sented. the veracious Cowlam correspondence. Negley fell into the moat, Cowlam disappeared Dy volatile evaporation, and Jim Brooks slapped his hand over his pocket, and exclaimed ; *Tho honor of Congréss has been maintained by me to the extent of deserving 50 more shares of Mobilier for my dear little son-in-law I” POMEROY'S READING ‘CONSTITUENCY. I havo observed that Pomeroy, the blinded Samson of Kensas, has been interviewed by the reporter of the paper called the Between-Puddles. This highly artistic report proceeds’ in this form of solidarity : " 3r. Pomeroy was agked if he wished tosoyanything to the publicin regard to the clection and the serions cliarges made against him in connection with it, I should like,” he roplied, * to makes statement thirough. tho Betuween-Puddles, {or that reaches more Kaneas men snd more Kancas Republicans than 2oy other mews- paper. Probably this accounts for the morals of Kan- ens and the existence of Pomeroy. I am moved, nevertheless to & labor of love. I have discovered an editorial motto for the Do~ tween-Puddles,—something which, as it strikes me, that publication may noed to cheer_ it up. ‘When the Rev. John Wesley was at Land’s End, he made this motto all out of his head. He could not go ahesd, and thero was ses on_both sides of him, so he must needs edit something. He therefore wrote as follows : Lo! on a narrow neck of land, TPwixt two @ivided sas I stand,— Yet, how contemptible 1 A point of time, a moment’s space, But guta mo to that forelgn place,~ Orshuts me up in hell ! This is a beantifal and appropriate motto for the Betwcen-Puddles, published by Skimmin, Skinnum & Co. Subscribers for Kansas, Pome- roy and Caldwell. Gata. BEST. “ Love fs better than houza or lands ; 8o, Bir Stephen, I'll ride with theo I” Quick she steps where the courser stands, Light she springeto the saddle-trec. Loveisbetter than Kithorkiny ° - So clpse she clung and so close clasped ha. They heard no sob of the bitter wind, Nor the snow that shuddered along thelea. Love is better than life or breath ! * “Tne drifts are over the horsc’s kee ; Boftly they sink to the soft, cold desth, And the suow-shroud folds them silently, Houses and lands aze gone for ave, Kith and kin like the wild wind fies ; Lifeand breath have fluttered away, But love hath bloksomed eternally, ———————— A Royal Freaks An English newspaper 8avs : #The %lte Sultan Al:)dfll-l\leliiéid1 ‘wishin, give the lzdies of his harem an ides of the Crys- tal Palace, commissioned o firm of ship-builders on the Thames to construct the iron framework of & huge domelike structure. It was, when com- pleted, put up in England, and then taken to ‘pieces for conveyance td Cohstantinople, whero 3t was re-erected-and covered in with glass, snd formed one of the most conspicuous and pretty objects which met the travellers' gaze on going up the Bosphorns. The present Sultan, how- ever, thought that it interfered with his view, and ordared it to be demolished, and the debris of & building which from first to last must have cost more than £100,000 has been sold for old scrap iron.” SThe Lancet on l\'lght-Wo;:n i The Lancet asserts that night-work is .not in- jurious to adults under certain conditions. The hours-of sleep_should never. bo curtailed, and the light should be white, powerful, steady, and concentrated by a o on the worlk. " It argues that an. insnfficient, flickering, or foo diffused light is one of the most serious causes ia pro- ducing the brain irritation which troubles night- workers. It recommends abundant nutriment, and a moderate use of tobacca. 3 PARIS. - The Dupin Family---How a Preud Career Was Irretrievably Sullieds Alexandre Dumas’ Last Play--- “La Femme de Claude.” Financial Yrregularities---The City Xall-=« A Dreadful Domestic Tragedy. From Our Own Correspondent. * Pans, Jan, ‘Those whom the gods love die young! Had Arnold died beforé he turned traitor, how ven- erated would that name have been in American annals! Had Lonis Philippe diod before 1848, had Napoleon I1I. died beforo 1870, what wise, able, successful monarchs they wculd have ap- peared in history! They burieda man on Thurs- day whose whole family illustrated the truth of this old saying. There was from 1815 to 1848 no family which stood higher in popular favor than THE DUPIN FAMILY. The head of the family had defendcd Marshal Ney, 'de Beranger, de Chatesubriand, Paul Louis- Courier. He was the intimate friend of Aanuel, Foy, Lamarque. He was celebrated for his-wit, his eloquenco, his legal lore. Ho was the trusted counsellor of the Orleans family. His rusticity was rather s recommendation thans drawback,— 80 blunt & fellow must neéds bo honest. The eldest Dupin had all sorts of successes after the Revolution of 1830. He was head of the French bar, being made Attorney General; he was President of the Chamber of Depu- ties; he was member of the Fronch Acad- emy and of the Academy of Moral and Political Sciences, He was logal adviser of Louis Philippe and of all his family. His income was enormous, for all of those, and of many other posts he filled, had salaries at- tached to them..and, as he never spent one cen- time if it conld by auy hook ar crook be avoided, he loft more than & million of dollars behind him. When you romember ho began the world with no capitalf but the head he carried on his shonlders, I think yon will agree that this was & decont estate. His noxt brother was Charles Dupin, who became an engineer in the navy, but enrly turned his attention to political oconomy, and quitted the navy to fill a varicty of lucurative posts under the Government. Louis XVIIIL. made him s:Baron, and the Revolution of July added to the number and profits of the places ho held under the Restoration. His younger brother, Philippe Dupin, aidedby his eldor brother, made rapid progross at the bar; his abilities confirmed his advance. Some per- . sons thought him the ablest of the three broth- ers. He certainly poesessed, more than’the other two, the faculty of attracting and keeping friends, and ho had a hold on his audicnce much firmer than his cldest brother ever obtained. Consumption seized him in the morning of lifo, and ho died. The motherof these men died in tho werilian of their fame snd popu- larity. When they placed on her tomb- wtone, with pordonmble vanity, * Hero lies the mother of .the three Dupin,” all. France applauded the inscriptions as a merited tribnte to the dead and to the living. Revolution swopt awsy tho July, Monarchy. Revolution established the Second Empire. Ze premier ol de T aigle (as the Duko d'Aumale ‘wittily said) was to confiscate the whole Orleans estate, (Before this mersure was docreed, Louis Philippe hed departed life. Ho made the eldest Dupin one of his execators.) The eldest Dupin instantly threw up all his ofiices, and protested against the mensure. Xe, nevertheless, no sooner saw the Empire firmly established, than e began to pay it court, and, in a few Jeuss, Lo actunlly begged the Ewporor for his old offices, and for a seat in the Scnate, There was only one sentiment in France, even among the Bona~ partists themselves,—that of the decpest indig- nation. Bushels of letters (I quoto his own lau- uage) vero roceived, donouncing i infamy. fz ‘was infamons, for Louis Philippe had always been hia friend, and had slways exerted himself to forward the interests of his whole family. He soon introduced his brofher into tho Senate. They mado themselves notorious by rccanting and bitterly opposing every opipiod they ha proviously advocated, and to which they had owed their popularity and social position. 'They feoll into ineignificancoe and contempt. When the eldest Dupin diedi thero was nobody at his funeral but_people obliged by their offica to bo present. Thoy were received in the drawing- Tooms of none of their old friends. The last of the three brothers—Baron Charles Dupin—has just paseed away. His family insisted that all . official honors should be paid him, but nobody was prosont ot the funeral except peoplo who could ot do othorwise. The newspapers dis- miss him with a contemptuous-line to his grave. MONS. ALEX. DUMAS has just made 2s complete & failuro as o dramat- ist can make. It was not unexpected. He had time and again been warned that, if le perse- vored in the path he was treadi % hie wrould certainly fall down a very -doep abyss. Hoe is solf-willed, and the prediction is accomplisbed. It is o pity thot sathors cannot content them- selves with literary fame, but must rush into olitics, a8 if the lntter alone_were the proper neiness of genius. How different would de Lamartine stand in literary bistory had he never meddled with politics! How Sainte-Beuve in- jured himself by his _political dabbling! What alderdash has politics made Victor Hugo drivel! Mons. Alex. Dumas’ ambition seems to bo to—shall I say clevate or depress? I doubt if he himself knows which—woman in the social scale, Itisnot odd that Frenchmen think of nothing but women, Interdict this subject to them, they are dumb, All their novels, plays, pictures, opers,turn on sexual relations,—sinning men or sinning women; fajthless wives or {faithless husbands ; unmarried women who have lost, are losing, or are lfl’ifls to loso their virtue. The wholo of Fronch litorature seoms written by students of some Lock or gome Magdalen fi;spmfl. 5 THE NEW PLAY, " which has been *‘damned,” though it continnes to be played that eversbody may judge for him- self how grossly M. Damas has blindered, is en- titled * La Femme de Clsude.” It takes its titlo from the similarity of character between the wife of Claude Ripper and the wife of Claudius (in French Claude), the Roman Emperor,—infa: mous Messalina, Claude Ripper is sure ho has invented a_cannon which is destined to change the ‘conditions of modern warfare, Ho would for no considerntion ecll it to any foreign nation; if his native country refuses to buy or to accept it, the secret of bis invention shall die withhim, He is ignorant of the world. His Jifohas flown away in his study and laboratory, his wante .at- tended to by & mother who tenderly loved him. She dies, and he forsakes hisfimvmclfl home and comes to Paris. Ho meets Mile. Gesarino in one of the houses he frequents in Paris ; falls in love with her; dreams she will give him a home such as his mother made for him. He asks her hand, and gets it. _Tho friendsof the celebrated surgeon, the late Joubert de Lamballo, traced Tis insanity to his marnage. He dovotediy loved & woman, married her, and found on his wed- ding-night that she was pregmant; ho haa dreamed her pure. To the astonishment of the residents, be appeared the following morning at his usual hour at the Hotel Dicu, and said, “ Gentlemen, Mme, Joubert de Lamballe 15 5 fallen women! Put on your aprons and let’s go the rounds!” He néver sgain eaw her. Such was Claude, Ripper's history; he “lipped the wanton in tho secure couch, and thought her chaste.” -She not orly had lovers before him, bat before their marriage had a child, which was gtill living in one Of the suburbd of Parie. Claude Ripper refused to have anything more to do with her. ‘‘Yon cannot bo a wifo; be at least & mother.” She weeps, sobs, moans_con- trition. Ho is marble; s woman once sullied is 2S & man once perjured,—there is no trust in her. Seeing her husband cailous to her, she re- ‘turns to her ignoble life; lover succeeds lover; who pays best is best*loved.” Hor child dies; the evening she Teceives this intelligence, she Teceives & new lover to her heark. Claude Rip- er quits Paris for that provincial home where fi!e Thad passed away 50 easily, 80 noiselessly, so happily. He plunges deep into study, and for- gets the dissppointments of his heart. Unfor- tunately, while absorbed by his studics, be glides Tato debl, and sppearances indicate that be is to be put out of_his old_home, which is to bo sold to satisfy creditors. He is once more most hap- Py; for he bas with him him Antonin, his adopted son, and Rebeccs, the daughter of his i ‘by opportunely old friend Daniel, a Jew, whose hobby is to find the Loet Tribes in Africa, and bring them to- gether nfnin at Jorusalem. Thia happiness is interrupted by the reappearance of Cesarine. Claude soes herroturn with absolute indiffer- ence ; sheis 23 nothing to him,—so insignifi- cant he does not even think it worth while to challenge her right toa seat at his hearth. Antonin, unfortunately, falls in love with her at first sight. Finding it in vain to struggle with this passion, too honorablo to tify 1t at the expense of his adopted hther'ahz benofactor's honor, he resolves to fiy. Ho tells Claude Ripper they must Bgut, but o does not confess the cause which leads him tho separation. Claude divines it,andis terrifiedto ses Anto- nin falling into the toils of that woman. To save Antonin, he, Claude, makes eral con- fession,—how ho loved, how he was deceivi how he has suffered. The recital but increases Antonin’s desire tofly; he ismore than ever con- cious that his solo safety lies in flight. Clande refuses to allow him toleave, confides to him the secret of his invention, and gives Antonin the koy _of the iron safe in which all the details of the invention are deposited. He conjures An- tonin to keep the secret for France, shonld any barm befall him, tho inventor. The invention has reachod the ears of military governments, and there i8 an earnest desire on their part to get possession of the'secret. Amongthe agents em- ployed to ferret out this secret was one Cantag- nac, a dubious character; who passes with some pedple for a speculator, with others for a spy in the ¥y of some foreign government, The prob- sbililies are, he i8 both. ~ He lmows how yxesse% by debt Claude is, and hopes to buy the secre np;eu‘mg when creditors are ‘most clamorous, and by offering to satiafy-them a1l in exchango for the rovelation of the inven- tor's secret. Claude refuses ; poverty, with all its distressing consequences, is preferable to seoing his invention: pass into the hands of his country's enemies.’ Falling in_attempts to so- duce Clande, Cantagnsc turns his batteries on Cesarine, whom he had known as the mistress of one of his agents. He offera to givo her all the money she wants if she will obtain her hus- band's eecret. Cesarine sets to work. Hope of money gives her Iynx's eyos. Bhe detects the love her husband bears Rebe and the ardor with which -it i3 retwrned. Sho does not seo (for she could not.understand) the naturo of this love, Rebecca confesses to Claude, as sho takes loave—perhaps forever— of him to follow her fathor in his search for the Lost Tribes, that eho loves him devotodly, with & mystic love, to be gratified only in the New Jerusalem which lies beyond the gravo ; 'tis such lovo as priest may entertain for nun, without violence to vows. _Cesarine attempts to get pos- session of Claudo’s heart, or at least of his sones, in all thoso artg with which women every day and so easily dupe men. Thero is no magic in them when applied to Claude. She can excite only one sentiment in him,—disgust. She then threatens. Clande i8 terrificd, for he knows there is nothing of which that vile woman is not capable, and he fears ‘(not for himself ; ho dis- dains the worst she could do; has she not al- ready dons her worst by soiling his honor with her infamy?) for Antonin and Rebecca. e warns her that, if she attempts to wrong him “through these children, or through his invention, Le \nfi i kill her as he would kill the adder, an with_ as little compunction. She allures An- tonin ; fans the passion which glows'in his veins until it burns all the vows he had formed. She givea him 240,000 ehe had received from Cartag- nac (withont felling its origin), and begs him to ‘place it in the iron afe where, sho discov- ered, all tho. papers releting to the mnew cannon wero kept. She docs this at Cantag- nac's. suggestion, and 88 = means to en- ablo her to seize the pn{:m at a favorable mo- ment planned by her. Antonin now, passion's keonost odgo boin, led by satisfaction, feels horror with himsel botrayiog his benefactor, and urges_ Cesarind o fly with him. She con- senta, snd insists npon his taking thé money sho confided to him, that thoy may together live at easoabroad. Iiis not without difficulty she suc- ceeds wrmgin%cansent from him, bat at Iast he agrees. She blows out the candle, that nobody may discover their preparations for flight. An- tonin [opens the iron safe by the bright moon- light, and takes the 240,000 ; but he observes a8 1 ddes 8o, that Cosarino steals the papors re- lating to the invention. Antonin seizeés her hand to force her to surrender them. They struggle. She cscapes, and_rans to the window to theow them out to’ Cantagnac, who is secreted below, waiting for them. The noiso of the struggle has attracted Clande, who, af lmight, entered the room stealthily, armed with s double-barrelled gun. Beeing what she is about to do, he takes aim, fires, and kills her bofore she reaches tho window. Antonin expects the other barrel's contents are for him, and, awaits his fate with reaignation ; he feels ho merits it. But Clande uts his arm in Antonin’s, and eays, “Come, et us set jto work agnin.” The curiain falls, There were calls for the author, but there wero no calls for Mllo. Desclee, who played Cesarine with admirable art. BOWLES BROTHERS & CO. The utraost energy is shown in attempting to recover somo property for tho creditors of this firm. Charles Bowles personally was made a bankrupt, two days 530, by decres of Court; tho object of this measnre was to recover for the creditors the $400,000.0r $600,000 worth of pro, erty in Nico and at Geneva which stends in tfi: pame of Mra. Stetson, and which 18 belioved to be rightfully assets of the firm. SOME FINANCIAL FRAUDY have come o light, in which & good many well- imovwn Fronchmén' are implicated (amonj thom Clement Duverois, one of the last Ministers of tho Empire, and long s prominent newspoper writor here), and which have led to many arrests and more flittings. The exact pature of these frauds bas notfyot come to light. The Paris Journal has ceased to appear in consequenco of these legal proceedings; it was owned by ono of the accused. 1t appears that an enormous amount of shares and bonds of companies which existed onlg on paper has been flozted on the Bourse, and the procecds of the sales have been dissipated by prison. THE CITY HALL, The ruins of the City Hall of Paris present a most weird spectacle ‘on moon-lighted nights. By the way, when you come to Paris, visit Notre Dame on some cloudless night, when the moon pours translucent molten silver over theat yen- orcble Gothic edifice,—you will not regret it. The Madeleino Church, too, never looks better than when bathed in moonlight. The ruins of the City Hall are now hoary with saltpetre, which litters most fantastically in night's silvery ight, while night-birds, with strange noises of throat or wing, dot tho Scene with their rapid, uncertain forms. Hundreds of cats move stealthily about, making a very Chinese concert of Jove-songs, or complaints of hard times or hard fare, or whatever: other cares corrode cats’ consciences. All the architects in Franco are hard at work on = plan of the new City Hall; the plan accepted will secure for its author the place of architect of the new building, which will give fame and fortmune ($£100,000); the second best plan will receive a prize of ©5,000; the third, $3,000; the fourth, 82,000; tho fifth and eixth, 81,000 cach. A DREADFUL DOMESTIC TRAGEDY is thus related in o daily paper: ““We reached * * with Guillaume. This was tho second timo he had met his father swco he had quitted his regimont. Hs had felt acately the loss of his rank. His father had promised ns to make no allusion to Guillaume's disgrace. Tho day after our arrival possed away well enough. Wo all breakfasted ot home. ‘The father and son had together paid several visits in town, and seomed to be on excellent terms ; nobody seeing them could have believed they had been 80 hostile four years 8go. When dinner was served, Guillaume Bat on his father's loft. _Conversation touched a great many topics, and at last turned upon & vinoyard which the father said he had sold be- cause the blooms never yielded fruit. Guil- Iaume replied, ¢ You were very wrong; it was very productive; that land belonged to my mother, and I shall regret its salo as long as I live His father engrily snswered, ‘ Do you think your mother's memory is not as sacred to moesitistoyou?’ Their voices now rose to s high pitch, and we had the utmost dificalty in m‘fmmg them. We thought we had been Buc- ceesfal, when suddenly the fathor.bawled, with incredible vigor (for, thongh 70 yearsold, ho was wonderfall, wsupreaenadg, ‘l‘it'ms but asceun- drel—sye, do you hear? a sconndrel—would have suid to his father what you have #aid to me; a scoundrel and a coward! Yoa richly deserved to be degraded in the army, vile coward " Guill- sume leaped up, took his’ chair, and snid fo his father, *'Tis_you who are a coward, for yon in- sult mo knowing I cannot reply to you; but you had better not begin again®’ As ho spoke, he almost menaced his father with his chair. Al- fred and I leaped on him to disarm him despite his resistance, when his_father, pale as s sheet with anger, went up to him and ‘spst in his face. Then, my dear friend, ensued s _scene which I shall never forget as long as I live. Maddened with adger, and leaving in our bands the chair we had taken from him, Guillaume raised hus band and gave his_father s slap on the jaw, and then stepped back. Terriflmg and fearing & fight was about to fake place, We got betwden them. We took the father by the arm. He straightoned himself up with immense strength untit he stood on his toes—then he fell back with & sort of sob. He was a corpse!” ZFoscoro. e el e —A writer divides men, with regard to their lsughter, into three classes, viz.: the he, he, he! the ho, ho, ho! and the ha, ha, ha! mén,— the shallow, the gross, and the refined. o partics now in flight or in NICE. The ¢ Shepherd ”-—His Appear- ance and Capacities. How He Convoyed a Party on a Mediterranean Steamer, The Beauty of Nice---A Fit Home of Tenderness and Fancy. Amusements of the Place---An 0ld ‘Woman in Command of a . Body of Soldiers. From Our Otn Correspondent. Gevoa, Jau. 15, 1673, . We call our conrier the *Shepherd,” and thero is o deep significance in the name. He watches that we do not go astray; he directs us from one resting place to another; he sees that we'are properly fed and cared for, and well folded at night. Buthe does not look likes shepherd- We always think of s shepherd asaman of rather benignant expression, towhose counten- ance habitual thought for the creatures under his care has given a look of mild unselfishness. Qur courier’s expression is very like that of + A SCOTCIL TERRIEE. Hia face is round, and, surrounded asitis by rough gray whiskers and curly gray hair, it is not at allunhke our canine friend from Scotland- The Bhepherd is short and stocky, and his chunky little figure has a good-natured, frisky sort of a look, 28 he trots ahead of- us on our ex- cursions, and unerringly leads tho way. Hois very near-sighted, and wears a curious-looking round eyeglass stuck in one eye. Thero is some- thing about this eyoglass which gives-him & peculinrly knowing look. He seems penetrating and irresistible when he gets it inhis eye, and appears tobe perpetually saying to all parties,- and officials, and landlords, and drivers, and all the rest of the traveller-pillaging tribe, * You can't get round me. It is not the leastuss. I soo through and through you. I detect and ecan all your tricks and your manners.” But the Bhopherd, thongh small in stature, is great in soul. A more resolute, determined, gamy little man in s combat with porters and dri- vers, it would be difficult to find. He does it all without the least noige or fuss, too. There is something in his very presence, in the fiery soul that ghines out from his eyes through the round eyeglass, that secms to AWE AND SURDUE A the most noisy of porters at once. He enters a aowd of yelling porters, surveys them calmly for an instant, then selects one, invariably the best of the whole crowd, and the rest slink off, feeling humiliated timt his choice has passed themby. Ho is little, very little; but there “never waa a better man in a crowd. Everything seems to give way before him. No one ventures toimpede him. I think one reason of this is, that he has not a particle of roverenco in his composgition. He would jostle a King with as little ceremony a8 ho would: & porter. The su- preme consideration with him is to get hia flock in safety wherever he may be leading them. No one under his charge is ever late fora train. He never leaves an umbrella or a pocket-hand- kerchief. He mnover loses baggage; mever gots in the wrong train; mnever comes to 8 hotel without finding good saccommoda~ tions awaiting him. ADgUsge Seems o MATTER OF UTTER INDIFFERENCE to the Shepherd. I mean he speaks one tongue as well as another. French, Italian, German, English, and I know not how many more, ho,has at his tongue’s end, and never seems at & loss for a word in either. 1 was particularly struck with the Shepherd's powers of management in_making the Toyage from Nice to Genoa. The Mediterranean steam- ers biavo o pleasant little way of moving off from the dock just before starting, and not coming up to it at all at the journey’s end, 8o that pas- scngers are obliged to embark and debark in little rowboats. The only possible motive for such conduct on the steamer’s part seems to be to give a vast number of boatmen s job, for theee boatmen must of courso ba psid, and, ' ‘were the steamer to lie quietly by the dock until she started, their ncmnPnfinn would be gone. There is not so much difliculty sbout getting on board, for people come at different times, and there is no crowding ; but the debarkation is a different matter. A little while before we reached Genoa, the Shepherd disappeared. On looking for him, he was discovered JOUNTING GUARD over his pile of baggage with tho oir of & General proparing for action. As wo entered the port, the crowd of excited tourists and flurried cour- iers about tho baggage grow larger and larger. We stood upon the deck above, and watched the Shepherd’s demeanor. Tranguilly, and filled with = consciousness of power, he stands by the bggage. The crowd rages about him, and al- most conceals lug small person from view; but it soon recedes like waves from a rock, and there be i8 again, steady as ever. The swarm of boat- mon approach and lash about the ship’s side, with yells and vociferations in Italian. stant the szxegzerd leaves his bnigage. His lit- tle head has bobbed up over the bulwarks. His eyeglass has_sclected the best boat. By some mysterious sign he has got it alongside. Tour- ists and overy one elso tro striving for boats. No ono got any until the Shepherd - HAD SECURED M1, He turns from the bulwarks. He has seized a porter. Hall-a-dozen other men bhave got hold of the eame porter. How could they hope to vie with the Shepherd ? Ho has taken a little trunk in Lis own bands, and glnn;ed itin the porter’s grasp, and commanded him to lower it over the side. 'The porter is soon working for dear lifo under the Shephord's oye, and continnes to work until every pieco of tho Shepherd's baggago isin the boat, while other tourists stand by and wait. This done, the Shepherd makes us a sigual. We descend, andin & moment we are safely en- sconced in our boat, and off for shoro long be- fore any one clse. We go immediately to our hotel, whero fine rooms, a good dinner, and 8 bright fire await us ; and, soon sfter, the -Shep- herd appears with the baggage, which he has triumphantly got through the Castom House. He is an invalnable fellow, this gamy, terrier-like littlo Shepherd of ours, and I scarco know how we should travel without him. Ho has now brought us to besntiful Italy, the sunny Iand of poetry. _ My last letter was writ- ton from Berlin, under the dark and rainy skies of that cold, northern city. It is indced & ‘most grateful change to gaze upon the blucskies of the south, and feel tho warm bre¢zes of a southern clime. For some time we staid at NICE. 1 do not wonder that it is a favorito winter ro- gort. Itis s beautiful town, situated in the Riviera, between the mountains and the fea. Though nominally in France, it is really Italian in appearance, manners, and customs, and in the language of the peasantry, though I pre- Steus oll the higher classes speak French, ~ The old part of Nice ia built with thoeo curious, nar- row, winding strects peculiar to Italian towns. The tall houses on either side seem separated from each cther by only a very narrow cleft, and it seems 28 if it would be quite possiblo to shake hands across the strect from Sne window to anothor. Of course it is dark, and dsmp, and ill-smelling in Lheue&llu! ; but never mind,—that does not alter their pietur- ueness, and odd, uncommon sppearance. ‘What detracts most, perhaps, from the romanco of these narrow streets and lofty houses, is to see such vast nunbers of freshly-washed gar- ments, of all colors, eizes, sorts, and shapes, ‘hangiog out to dry in mid-air between one house and another. These are sometimes 80 numerous a8 to quite obscure the sky, and produce the ap- pearance of & motley cloud of curious shape. As you wander along, you_ find the population ongaged in their various houschold . avocations, and, as doors and windows are always wide open, you can ses WEAT IS GOING ON WITHIY, as well as what is done without in the open street. Isawone unfortunate man sitting in front of his house-door, holding in one hand a newspaper which he was feebly reading, while, with the other hand, he was turning a coffee- mill. I conld not belp thinking of Mantilini, whose life was * one demnition grind.” Some are rossting chesinuts, some poeling oranges or apples, while others are tending the numerous emall_ghops with which the streets are lined. Occasionally a horse or a mula loaded with mer- chandise, o & Wagon, comes along. Then there is a great commotion. 3Men, women, clildren, and dogs scatter right and Ieft until tke vehiclo has paseed, and then they return to their re- One in- | spective employments. The streat-smusements of Nice aro numerons. Hand-orgaus abound here #s elsewhere. Trained monkeys. trained birds, and oven dancing bears of large size and ferocious ap[l!le:\m.uce, lend interest and variety to tho street-life. . But all these things, of course, are not the amusements of THE FASHIONADLE WORLD who gather here in the winter. Every afternoon the broad street which goes along the shore of the sea is crowded with handsome equipages, and _the promenado beside it is thronged with foreigners from every nation under heaven, who have come hither in search of bLealth orof pleasure. Every Thursday and Sunday after- noon, a fine brass band ths in s pavilion, sur- rounded by a park, filled. with palm-trees and rich tropical foliago, There, tha scene is very brilliant and gay. All Nico turns out to hear. Some sit beneath tho palm-trees, talking, and listening to the music. Others wander about the shady walks, and their bright dresses make pretty contrasts with the decp green of the foliage. The music is really very fine, &nd tho whole &cono is interesting end prausing, Then, in tho eveningy, there are manybulls and parties, and occesionally the officers of the American ships-of-war givo a recoption on board of their vesgela. Thero are ulso theatres, and occcsionale 1y opera, though I canrot say much for the lat- ter. But all thege things arc not, to me at least, the chiéf chiarm of this lovely spot. It is the climate, tho sea, the sky, THE POETEY OF TIHE ILACE, . that sre to me so delightful. The air seems softer and more balmy here than clsewhere. It is liko a_perpetual spring. The sky is lustrons in its de? intensity of blue, while tho ees catches and reflects the same beautiful tint. Beliind the town rise gently-sloping hills, whose Eidos aro clothed with groves of orange aud | olive. From out the dcep green of the foliage peop the white walls of many n:vills, 2nd con- vent, and castle. Hero rises hill behind hill, and ‘mountain bekind mountain, -until at last the besuriful series ends in a wall of dazzling snow, whero the Alps of Piedmont tower, beau- tifully contrested against the wondrous blne of thesky. Tho soft light, tha grace of outline, the richness of, color, all seom redolent of poetry and romance. It is not difficult to imagine how such scones could havo inspired tho verses of Tasso and stirred the pen of Petrarch. Here is the fit N HOME OF TENDERNESS AND FANCY. Tt seems a8 if all men might be poets here, The very buildings of the town itself are not Iiko other buildings. They are lighter, more 2iry, and gracoful, and bright. They heve bal- conies and terraces, and often they are sur- rounded by luxuriant roses sud = beautiful flowers.of all kinds. Every villa, too, has its orange-grove, and nothing could be more beau- tiful than the dark-green masses of foilage, re- lieved and brightened bythe flame-colored frait. The rides and walks about Nice*are really won- derfulin their picturesqueness and variety. It is impossible to goamiss. All seem equally ‘beantiful, and yot full of variety. One day wo drove to A CASTLE which stands upon a high hill not far from the tovn. The rosd winds ap this hill, now afford- ing lovely views of the broad Llu expanse of the gea, now of the valley and town of Nice,now of tho hills and mountains behind. At last we reached tho castle, and asked permission of the guard to enter; but no, he could not allow it. He summoned another soldier; and they managed betweon them to summon an officer ; but none of them scemed able to iive us the required per= mission, but implied that we must wait until. some other person arrived, which we sccord- ingly did. At last an old women appeared. The soldiers pointed to her, and, in some astonish- ment, v made our desires kmown to the aged’ female. 1t was all right ; she soon led us f"“ soldiers, and gates, and bars, and conducted ns to the top of tho fortresa. This was the first time in my life I ever saw AN OLD WOMAN I COMMAND, or apparently 8o, of a body of soldiers and 8 fort. = Perhaps the male officers were all killed off in the late war with Prussia. The view from this castle was really wonderfal, and well repaid us for the long and difficult ascent. The whole panorama of Nice, with the beantiful ses in front and the snow-clad mountains behind, lay beneathus. And now I must bid farewell fo this Tovely spot._ My recollections of it are most de~ lightful, and I cannot imagine how & pleasanter winter-residence could be desired. W — JOHM REED'S THOUGHTS. There's n mist on the meadow below ; the herring- frogs chirp and cry 3 1t's chill when the sun is down, and the sod 18 not yet dry; The world'is lonely place, it seems, and T don't know why Tsee, as T lean on the fence, how wearily trudges Dan With'the fecl of the Spring in his bones, like 3 weak and elderly many S T've had it many a time, but we must work when we can. But dsv after day to tofl, and ever from sun tosun, Though up to the season’s front and nothing be Teft undone, g Is ending at twelve like 3 clock, and beginning again at one. The froga make s sorroyfal noise, and yetit's the time they mate ; There's omething comes with the Spring, a lightnees - or elee a weight There’s omething comes with the Spring, and it scems to me it's fate. s 1t’a the hankering aftef a lifo that you never have Tearned to know ; t's the discontent with a life that is slways thus and 8O3 1t's tho wondering what we are, and Where we aro go- ing to go. My life fs lucky enongh, T fancy, to most men's eyes, For the moro & family grows, the oftener some one dies, And it's now run on 5o long, it couldn’t be otherwise. Aod sister Jano and myself, we have lesrned to claim and yield; She rules in the house ¢ will, and I in the barn and field ; 80, nigh upon thirty years 1—as if written and signed oud sealed, . I couldn’t change if T would; I've lost the bow and o when ; One day my timo will bo up, &nd Jano be tho mistress en, For singlo \women are tough, and live down the singlo men, 5 B Sho kept me 50 to hersel, sho was always the stronger hand, And'my lov showed well enough, when I looked arcund in tho iand ; But T'm tired aud’sore a¢ heart, and X don’t quite un- derstand. I wonder how it hzd been if T'd taken what others The plague, they say, of o wife, tho care of & younger It Eaith Plossanton now were neat mo as Edith Teed? Suppose that a son well grown were thero fn tho place of Dan, And Ifelt myself in him, 3T was when my work be- " X ahould feel no older, surs, and certainly more a man { A danghter, besides, in the house; nay,-let there be two or three! ‘We never can overdo tBk Iuck that can never be, And what kas come to the most might also Lave come to me. T'so thought, when 2 nefghbor’s wife or his child was carried away, That to have no 108s was 8 galn; but now—1 can hardly aay ; 4 Ho seemy b0 possess them stil, under the ridges of clay, And sharo and share fn a lifo Is, somekow, s different thing. From property held by deed, and the riches that oft inke wing ; X feel %0 closo in the breast I—I think it must be the Spring. T'm drying up like 3 brook when the wooda have been Gleared around ; . You'ro sure it must alwsss rua, you are used fo tho sight and sound, But it shrinks uatil there's only left # stony rut n tho grot S There's nothing to dobut to take the days s they comeand go, And not worry with thoughts that nobody Kkesto show, For people k0 seldom talk of tho things they want o ow, . There’s times when the way i3 plain, and everything nearly right, . And then of asndden you stand like s man with & cloaded sight : A bnil;sleflnl often 8 beast, in- the dusk of = falling I must move; my joints are stiff ; the Weather ix breeding rain, And Pan is hursyiog on, with Ms plow-team ap totho o, Td go to the villags store; I'd rather not falk with Jane. B —Eayard Taylor in the Atlantic for March. * _——— Colfax and the Young Christinuse From the Nation, G By the time the Credit Mobilier investigation comes to an end, we shall probably know what kind of a world we live in. Last week left Ames’ check for £1,200 payable to “8. C.” or bearer, dated June 20, 1863, unexplained, and now the bank account of 3r. Colfax, having been examined, shows that Mr. ColfaX did, on June 22, 1858, deposit the exact sum of $1,200, notwithstanding his emphatic denial, before the Polacd Committee, that he received any such addition to his income at that time from any |- sourca whatever. His exact words en “Now ‘I could not have had $1,200 sdded to my inccme withoué remembering As _ soon a3 positively.” it tery the fact of this deposit came out, Mr. Colfax de- . manded a new investigation from the Senate, which the Scnate very naturally declined to let him have. He has now retained as counsel Ar. Robert S. Hall, of this city, and, when Mr. Col- fax has rofreshed his memory by looking over {z,:;; papers, heis going to disprove the whola ing. Mr. Colfax is behaving—to spesk mildly—very injudiciously. Ho has beon accused, on evidence on which any jury would convict him, of having porjured Limself with rogard to tho roceipt of 31,200 from Oekss Ames. Now, there is only ono snswer to this, viz.: that Afr. Colfax re- ceived the money {rom somebody else, acd this answer could bo' made in five minutes. All he has to do is to name the man who paid it to him, and give tho reason for which it was paid; and this, to a gentloman of small incorme, who keeps his accounts with great accuracy, as Mr. Colfsx 8ays ho does his, can be a task of no diffculty. Instead of doing this, howerver, he went to the Scnate, and made an absurd demand for a fresh Committee of Investigation, though the Wilson Committce was still sitting, then allowed Oakes Ames to go home, and said he would g:zfl\lu his dofence when Oakes Ames came kI' mads somo rambling observations about *looking over his papors,” and then started off to attend religions and temperance meetings in Philadelphia and Baltimore. At Philadelphis he'made hie appearance before the Young. ons Christian Association,.and was received with shonts of applauso; and at tho tomperance mect~ ing at Beltimore there wes more frantic aj planse, and the Vice President informed the audience that “The world was full of human trials, and crime, and suffering, full of wars, and disease, and breakiag hearts, full of unjust. aspersion,” and made other moral reflections of the same sort.. We now beg to inform Mr. Col- - fax that honest men are-sick, heartsick, of this sort of thing; that what the world demands of him just at present & not philosophical observa- tions on the vanity of this life. but = plain ac-~ count of how ho got that $1,300; and, pending his preparation of that account, they think ha ought to maintain a decont seclusion and reti~ cence. We may also, with equal-confidence, in~ form the young brathren of the Christisn Asso- ciation that, when thoy raise shonts of applanse. for 5. man in Mr. Colfax's position, they set hun- dreds of ‘thousands of other young men asking —as they asked during the Methodist Book- Concorn ~troublos—whether there- is any moro mnecessary connection botween morality and the worship of Christ than botween morality and the worship of Pan. Membership in these asso~ ciations is fast ceasing to be a certificate of ‘in= tegrity; let thein take care that it does not raise 0 presumption of ¥ant of integrity. —_— " THE WORKS OF TURNER. A Great Bequest to England from Heor Yost Prolific Axtiui. From the Cincinnats Commerciul. Not far from the ‘residence of Carlyle thera is 2 honss which has on it & peculiar top-ona with & balcony surronnded by an iron railing. It wag there that the great artist Turner lived under one of his two names, and on_that balus- traded housctop, propared there by his own order, he used to stand for many, maay hours, while the throng toiled on beneath, or whila they elept. His other house was in Queen Anne street, three or four miles away at the porth of Hyde Park; but in this latter abode he passed ‘'his time on!y when he would appear to the world as Mr. or. 7 When ho died, as is known, he left the great mass of his works asa_beguest tothe nation. Among the works left, there was ono collection not registared in the beguest, which, when opened by Mr. Ruskin and Mr. Ralph Worn Becrotary tc the National Museum, ware foun to contain sketches from nature of a kirnd 80 un- available for popular inspection that they threw them into the fire, a thing for which they have been severely censured, and, by some _artists,. never forgiven. No oue, I believe, excapt Rus~ kin and Wornum ever saw the pictures which - they decided ‘should be forever invisible. But the number of pictures and sketches which Ture ner loft to the nation almost beggars bolief. The visitor to the National Gallery will find three of the largest rooms chiefly devoted ta them, and more than two &t the South Kensing~ ton Musoum. But besidos these there aro threa Turner galleriea floating aboat the-country at this moment—one in Dublin, another in Man- chester, o third in Edinburgh—vhere they may be seen by the poopls, and studicd or. copied by artists. Dut lately, wishing to investigate thoso Turner treasures which ars not hung, I obtained the nocessary orders and was taken into the crypt of the National Gallery and thers placed st atable. I was then asked which of er'’s. pictures and sketches Idesired to see. Iinno- cently replied: “AlL” The very gentlemanly Carator then asked mo how many days Ihad to dovote to them. Days? He then pointed ma ito mahogany presses completely surronnding the room, and said: “All these are filled with the works of Turner.” The next day Mr. Wornum informed mo that the nation owned in all about - nineteen thonsand works by Turner! ‘When it is considered that there are works by the samo artist of certain genunineness held in private hands to the number of several thousand, one may conclude that Turnerhas loft avalusble work for every dai of his 76 yoars of life. Tho son of _poor. hairdresser of Maiden lane, who shunned ‘society, so that the only res! like~ noes of him wsa made by stealth with a bit of cut paper, who diod under social ban (ministered to by & womzn he loved, but to whom he was nevor married ), and an assumed name in a poor lodging, may bo said to hava beon the most pro- lific genius the world ever produced. ‘Turuer was buried by tho side of Sir Joshuam Reynolds in the crypt »f St. Paul's. His large fortune, both in pictures and prqporéy, he be- queathed to his .country—the finished ‘pictures fo the nation—on condition that the Government should provide them suitable accommodation in 10 vears, and the funded property toward the sstablighmentof aninstitation for decayedartiste, The will was digputad, but by & compromise the Court of Chancory ordered {1856 ) that .all pic- , tures, drawings, sketches, finished or nufinished by the hand of ‘Turner chould belong to the nation, aud the engravings to the next kin.' The finished pictures thus acquired by the coun~ try were about one hundred ; the skeiches—han< dreds of which are almost finished—are vast in | number, o8 I havo stated. The mass of * engravings” ( alludedto in the decision) bequeath e certain stacks of papor and pasteboard whick: lay in the house in Queon Anue streoi. Thore wére also there 3 largo namber of plates. Al- most ever since Tarnier left it, the house has boen tenantless, and almost rotting away. Late- 1y an old man died who scemed to be the only representative of the property; wheyoupon some oue who had tke right to do so entered and found the stacks of plates- and mgr:nn in o0ols of water, which had fallen through the eaky roof. On examination the great mass of the works were found to be uninjured. They belong to two gentlemen, distent relations of Turner, one of whom has been sent for as far as Alabama to attend to his ri‘ghta. 1t muet be ‘remembered that Turner’s * engrayings”.are not of the ordinary kind. He drew sketches for them, but with his own hand completed them on the plates, 80 that they are among his most valusble works. Thoy ali be sold at Christie & Mangon's in March, and the sensation will probably be equal to that which accompanied the great Gillott salo. Tliere are more than 20, to be sold. These include from four hundred to eix hundred of the larger engravings, such as Caligula’s * Bridge,” * Dido and Eneas,” “Mercury and Axm"‘ “ Mercury and Horos,”. “ Crossing the Brook,” some five hundred sets of the English ond Wales ecenery series, and large numbers of the smaller illustrations of the works of Byron, Bcott, Milton, Gmdpbe.l.l, and Rogers. There are about seven hundred speci~ mens from the celebrated * Liber Studiornm,™ which Turner began, following &_project of Claude, but never completed. And there ara abont eighty pictures meant for the Liber Studi- orum which have povar been publialied. : The prices that"some of theso pictures il ‘bring will probably be very great, and indeea the values of Turner's pictures will probably continue to increase for many years to come. 50 cat in the hunger, not only of the English, t of continental collectors’ and galleries, for any that are not locked up in the possession of thenation. Iam gladto say the skeiches be~ longing to the mation will not be perpetually locked up from gight; 8 vast addition to ths building of the National Galleryis beiag ereted, in good part to exhibit them, . D.C. . pi——————— TO MAUD IN HEAVEN. For thee, the endless dsys of light, .o sining wings, the golden crovn; ‘or us, the tears, the gloomy ni And heavy burdens weighing down, For thee, the peace, the blessedness, The joy, thy victory will gain ; For us, the grief, the sdre distress, The (prnand blseding wounds of pain, For thee, the rest of Heaven fair, pta fodeless treaaures fa thy 2and; or us, the weary toil and care, The ithered leaves, the wortblesa ssad, Before thine eyes, tho open gate, And all the fulness of God's years Our love clasps thee ; we trust, we wait, We eco the light beyond our fears, Crzeaco, Durr PomrTER, to tho next of kin were * s i i e i