Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, July 26, 1874, Page 11

%= a3 4 3 | i H THE CHICAGO DAILY TRIBUNE: SUNDAY. JULY 26, 1874 11 THE ALLEGED ART-FRAUDS, m Miss Harriet G. r fro: e Hosnier. ger Beply to the Charges of Iir. stepien W Heaiey e Denial of Any Wrong- dignant nincis Doing. statement of the Motives which e aused the Accusation. of The Chicago Tribune: ould ou do me the great favor of in- i srticlo in your journal, ai your convenience, and much oblige, yowrs eyt . G. LiosyER. e of tho New Tork Torld of the 15tk P tsins 8 lelter vritten by M. £ e Tealey, dated Florouce, and 1 ¥ o: T wied zo an amount of di- sz the corrupt 3o of wios eculptors i, the Italion-. mo Of & very A, Te can give the, o .ussfilvdr sy, au arna in Home, who hi2s been el im0 U tke works which the Ameri n pord 0B Hosuer, itsue 38 their Mr, S.ory zrd Biss e i T sppeats 10 100 desirable to give oqual pub- o tothe following JSLATATION MADE DY SIGNOR A. PIATIL, 4 Porto Ceresio, 15th May, 1874 : e ’5;"”3 o cf trath and justs st bivo %ind of stafeienty AT est degres autlotized M. Steplieal £ B N o tmaks e of Iny Diane in tho preparae Fom e o the joursal, the Now Yurk Wurid e f5ih of Hlarck, etixys injuriously upou fi::w ‘of Miss lfosmer and Mr. Story, sculptors ‘bs: 1 am completely ignarant and wi t&fi";&'h:d:-\iungud to tho Zecusations of this 2 AxTON10 PIATTL K‘;?:l?:: is to bo £aid of & man like Ar, Hea~ e who, o defisnco of all truth, of all justice, :.-j ofall the laws which vsualy govern tho ceeduct of 3 gentleman, can meke an assertion e the above? Tt will be observed that the wids which condemns TS contains no artistic itism upon our works. For all such eriti- G, whether of afriendly or unfriendly pature, peartistis prepared. He sends forth his statuo, =141l are st hberty to judge end to £pesk 2 sesult of his labors a3 _they may think fit. The artist can make Do reply. But the article which I allade denounces us a8 impostora and {zgen, profiting by the needs of brothor artists, prer thsn ourselves, to incroase our reputa- fumsndour gains. It affects not only our rep- cation a8 astists, but our charscter s honora- temenand women, and hence assumes an as- pectof the gravest nature. Xeraro Mr. Btory sod myself alone. Other 1tists in Florence—artists whom I bave always tard spoken of a8 conscientions, painstaking ep—are condemned in like manner ; and, inlike ramer, We have seen the very men who are simed sa the real suthors of their works coms fxward and disclaim the honorimputed to them. Pasonal attacks are usually beneath contempt, Iattho attack made by Mr. Healey is so utterly goesand gratuitons that silence is imposgible, Xow, let us inquire ‘EOW THIS ATTACE HAS BEEN COXDUCTED. r. Healey comes {o Rome for the express pur- ese, w8 wo are informed, of gathering facts wiizh vill ensble him to denonnes certain artists asimpostors. Mr. Stary, Mr. Franklin Simmons, nd oyself, sre the threo artists named in the Taticn Jees of the S1st of Alzrch as those who arefo be sabjected to Mr. Hesloy’s scrutiny. How does Mr. Healey commenco his labors 2 Does he present humself st our studios and Mtate frankly what is bis mission? Does Lo give umaKpummly for defending our good name belore hio denonnces us a8 imyostors in public pint? Farfrom it ; ad he done so, we st least tiuld bave respected him for bis hovesty ; but wetrace him to certain studios, endeavoring o atort from the inista the confession th)rfia wo ssimpostors. It appears, however, that Lis la- s by hin Beld d o vield him §0 Tich & Larvest as he anticipated, sinco he wascompelled foall back upon tke neme of Signor Piatti, with ¥zt enccers we hiuve £een ; mor. indeed, bad we errbeard of Mr. Healey's existenco until his Iiter appeared in Rome, - weeks after its publi- uconin New York. Is this tho msn who has tme forward to defend the houor of American ©t7 Is this tho man who is to free it {rom all tshorost practices, {rom all that is low, and 7, sod unworthy 7 Open warfareis an hon- eable tuing, but_the stab in the dark hes long tsed (o Le considered manly smong civilized Lions, Ipronounce Xr. Healey’s article both AISCH) OUS AND MALICIOUS. Hilicions, becnnse Lo cauees 1t to sppear that t¢ practics of obtaining assistance in moaehing Benlisr to certmn nrtists; mischiovous, Lo~ aue, in dealing with a subject with which he kos {he public at large are but imperfectly fizbar, he omits to explain how much ossist- teeis considered legitimate. How mauy of our enurymen are familiar with the process of sware 2. Not one in & thousand. I should Fotatly be ore correct if I s2id not one in ten tmund. Are they, then, in a pasition to judgo o e question ot i5sn0? Lany believe that tho disheiacat at once from the block of marble, “ilous the preparatory process of the small oo, o the fullsize model in clay, Others, who are somewhat more enlightencd, eoswre tat & clay model is first produced, ‘wkich, being transferred to plaster, is placed in the hands of the marble-workers, bat the pro- o of preparing that clay model is, too fre- ‘qently, s complete enigma to them. If the rablicat large were more fully inuated into ttemreteries of the sculptor's etudic, such an tixkas Mr, Healey's would lose much of the pemitions character which it £¢ present pos- fesea” It is permicious and dengerous, simply becausa the mess of our countrymen have never &0 opportunity of -informing thomeoclves o the gubject which Atr. Healey presents, and ‘wloes jedgmment, tharefore, must bo swayed by tess who duetort facts or supply imperfect in- fomation, It is wetl, therefore, to give a few Lints reparding TEE TEGAL PROCESS OF BCULPTTRE, 1226bi3 T sbhall do as briefly a8 possible: 2 first tep is 1o prepare tho small model, @ skeich, In which the idea of tho statue s E’Wed, and the composition determined. -Ibs proportions of this email mcdel must be 5 tho equilibnum adjusted, end, if the talus 15 to be draped, the folds taust be in their E,nm regard to the anatomy of the figure. 5 6 tho work of the artist humself; and, in P of Mr, Healey’s assevcrations, I do nok be- “rethat any gcuiptor intrusts this portion of oy Ikto en assitant. Itjsof anaturofor § delieato and difiicult for this to bo dove. 1o Jelieate on account of high finish, or care- dawface modeling, for carcful finich is con- d nonecessary. Bat, for the most ac- Ublished azsistant fo bo ablo to render any Rhelever at this period of the work, e mast Viuh tho cyes of the artist, hio must fecl Iis touch, and &ll the thought, feeling, Eokmens, which eaggested the ides, a0d which nepe form which thet idea is o sssume, be infused, by some magnetic process, into Ja einsd havd of anothier. Can thishe done? temgh Tight wo say that an orchestra conld e 8 ricce of music by Ieoldng in tho face Ao compoger g8 well 88 by following the ,E'""qu, or that the master-mason could Lo mtbric from en architect’s verbal deserip- B Fell s by ceale aud £niehed plan, This mlmn-wnrk of the sintue; unfinithed #8 b‘mlflmodd wmay be, deticient a8 it may ba et DA, it yet contains all that i8 to ts the real merit_of tha finished work, b umn the sculpior bestows his most care- Popor 1f the emall model js incorrect in vl gy 0% 12 pose, in equilibrium, theso faults liger vy ¢uified, in huge proportions, in_the g 804 00 strength of musclo, which wgoray e clicf recommendstion in an ns- Leng fond Témove them. The small model nt m“;mx‘ls:ed, tho artist calls in his aseiet- btor otk OF mott, of tho severely mauusl “E‘?Td with the work mar, b _WITI PESFECT PROPRILTT, Tt to his Lands. This bas been the Cugye, "1!3031: sculplors from time immermorial. sl l]mrwnlqsen, Gibson, =il employed pmmn eIe. 5ith no thought that tho term The prose.o2ud be applied to tLiem for eo dowg. "mnflm:a“ enlarging from the gmall model wdis I“Pon mathematical principles, and pm‘»c:‘l?f?lmechmlcfl,frcqnirmg elall and e imagias rue, but_calling for no exercise of for mz.‘ . vun,' for no dclicate sense of graco, n short, of ihe creative power “_““';thihuic of thoartist. The large model having beon conducted to a certain slas of completian, the attist sgain renumés Teie, bors, and infuses into the etatuo the sentiment and graco which, in the smaller model, Lo has omitted to express. Whorein, ‘then) do tho functions of tho artist conflict with thoks of the aesistant? Tho artist creates, & th istant excentes all fhat is " purely mo- chauieal. Bat, if it were kuown how es- eential, even at this mechanical st it age of wuri, 18 the ever-walch 0 of the srtis :::'3 how freqnently ho @ s the result of his a sistant’s Lkor, replacing i by the work of bis s hands, oven this amoa0t of aid wowd ba tn!‘; A of mnch of its a; sculptureis to be con: ed 8 perfos o clianical art, restrained within tha E.lmtullrfx"m 1ulo and compass, and if the valuo of a statuc is to bo estimated by the number of cubic feet sich it coptains, then, indecd, the arlist who aflixes bis name {o the mass of clay which hehas not himeelf manipulated wust bo regarded as an impostor; but, if tho must noble atiribute of art is precisely that whieh defics mathematical limits, which I8 dependent upon n fine sense of prace, wlueh is the offsprisg of thought, of re- Bearch, and of cufture, then he who conceives, greated, nud control feaving, ot the ast, his own impress upou i, must ba reg 2SiiA (eae matliE T , must ba regarded AXD No oTHER.Y Iamoware that Ileavo one question unde- tarmined; it is to what staro is it legitimato for the assistaut to conduct the work. It is 3 nice point, and our calumniators have not failed to dwell upen it; but, fortunately for the aceused aitists, mtost can bo furnished, which all can apply for themselves, to arcertain whethor, in auy given instance, these legitimate limits have been oxceeled. Lotmo inguire of thaso who bave visited Ifaly, or who liave been frequont vititors to reulptors’ studios in ony vardof tho world, it they have ever found tho produo- tions of two artists to be p y eimilar. Is there mot, in siyle, dr in subject, or in treatwent, an indelmmile some- thing which stamps the work, and -dibeloses the charncter of the individual who bas created 1t ? I thiuk few will deny that this is so. And here I mu-t direct altention to an errorinto which Mr. Healey bas fallen,—an orior ho would have sludicugly avoided bad Le been, in the slighiest degree, familiar with Mr. Story’s works. Against no artist conld Mr. Ioaley have brought a charygo of imposture which could be so easily refutod. Ho has pointed to ons whose style is 80 mdividual and origu:al that he may bo said to have creatod & new echinol of art. A stylo neithor strictly Greek nor strictly modern, but uniting tLe noblest features of both, in a manner uu- known to auy other artist of tuo proscat day. Who thet bad seen his Libyau Sibyl, one of the finest statucs of modern times, or s Salome, or, batter than all, his last work, the Alcestis, can regard tho monstrous charge which hir. 1lealoy has preferred, against hitn except with TOL CONTEMPT WUICH IT,DISERVES? Of all Mr. Stors's works, Lbs Aloostis is, per- Dapa, the mos uol, snd I ehall, therefore, select it in illustration of tho test. In this traly exquisite conception; 'we see the wifo of tho duomed Admetus reissuing into the light of day, her mind distraught by, tho awful scanes which slio has witnersell; awake, yot .seeing uot; hu- man, but with Luman eensce- sealed; weird, ghostly; tronding, with uncertain_stop, the nar- row limits which geparato the living from tho dead, the impress of tho shadowy world still upon hor. Isthis tho result of the labors of aman who, to uso Mr. Healey's own words, *“is paid his dollar and a half a day ;" or is it the werk of the poet and tho scholar, of the man of cultars and of dehcate taste? Ilas this work a distinctive character of its own; or is it what sny man could have produced,— what we conld meet with in any sludio? This is the tes: which we apply, theko are the questions which wo ssk ourselves, when, un- Dlinded by prejudico and unbiased by profes- sional jealousy, we would discover whetbor the artist is nn honest man, or whether he has attered a sculptured lie. Irepeat that Mr. Healey's article is malicious, because he causes it to apyear that the practice of obtaining assistance is poculiar to certain artists, Lt us read tho following passage from his Ietter of the 15th of March : WeLavo already developea genius of s very high order,—gunius, morcover, v hich requires no protec- tion other than tho condemuation, in the prees and farough public opinion, of men who zve Unserupy lous and works which ars dishonest aud Impure. Vo Dave Mr. Hart, in Flarence, and Messrs, Ruinchart, Ives, and Rogers, in Rome, all artists of the first class, artists who aro hopest in their lsbors znd their prin- ciples, sincero in their aepirationa, and earncst and trustworthy in all that they uudertzke Wiy are they " Lonest in their Jabors and principles?” Obviously, as Mr. Healey presonts the quesiion to us, ’ . DECAUSE THET ACCEPT NO ASNISTANCE from any one. . They rcly upon themselves, and upon themselves alene, sud they rank tiose ar- tists who do accept assistanco s impostors. Is it not this which Mr. Healey imphes? Now lot us sclect the most prominent of theso thres pates in Rome, that of 3r. Rogers, Does Alr. Henley pretend to say that Do is unaware of the fect that Mr. Rogera ohiains ance in Lis work? This is impossiblo. The fact is_so universally known in Rowo, sud, suico Mr. Healoy's visit, has been’ g0 frey ol luded’ to DLy Mr. Logers himseclf, that it in creolutely impossible to' believo that the circumetance ercaped Mr. Healey's obeervation, particularly as Mr. Healy, nuless” we are grossly rent importauco, If ok 1 e misinfcrmed, - wag a coustent visitor In Mr. Rogere’ studio. How is this? Yow is it that he has placed 3tr, Rogers’ uawo in the category of artists who are loncst artists becaueo they evail themeelves of no foreign 2id? Ilow is it that Lio repeats the paragraph, with an emphatia which is significant, in both bis leiters to the Now York Worid? ht? Then does not such unjastifiable heedlossuess Eorious- Iy detract from the confidauce with which wo wonld wieh to regard an inguirer into the sub- {ccz which Mr. Healey professca Lo investigate? \Vas it iutcouonsl ? Then does it "not sugnest & degreo of partiuity which robs Mr. Hoaloy's ar- guments of all weight, his tostimony of all valug? I am not prepared to say that Mr. Ttogers receives more aseistance in his work than is legitimate, but I am prepared to say that he recerves " XOT ONE WHIT LEFS than those artists who are denounced as im- Pposters. Now, if the practice of obteining assistance constitutes imposture, why should ceitain artists escape with impunity. whilo others are d=nounc- ed by Mr. Healey ae ** thieves aud forgers”? I alluded to this apparent incongistency to a friend of Mr. Rogers, & gontleman zlso connected with iomnflsm, who_replied, *Yes, but then it is mown that Mr. Rogers is almost always employ- ed upon large works.” Now, was this gentieman sware, when' he admitted into tho colnmns of his journal the paragraph which implics that Mr. Fravklin Simmons _i8 impostor, that his fina group of Grief and History—the work which is pointed out. by his crizics as the one which proves him to be an impostor—is composed ol two_figures, both of collosenl dimensions, the rmodeling of which involves greet physical labor? \What is the standerd of proportion, what tue fixed point, at which assistance ceascs to bs imposture and becomes a_ligitimato_necessity ? Io not Mr. Simmons' group of proportions sufli- ciently colossal to justify an_ariist in_procaring assistance, if nssistance is ever justifiable? Neither can the argument be accepted as sound 3 the same principlo applios to sll works, whether large or small, and thero i3 no possibility of ap- Plying excoptional rules, save through the very doubtful medium of personal partiality. ‘Hitherto 1 have carefully refrained from reply- ing to any attack medo upon me ; but rarely, 1t ever, has apy attack assumed such monstrous proportions as tlus of Mr. Healey. Silence is in- deed golden, but tho precious stuff is moro than thrown away upon those who have no power of distinguishig it from the baser metal; and, gilence, too long maintaived, consesto be & virtuo and becomos s weakness. iy good name has already been sufficicetly besmirched. 1If the practice of seulptors, in all fimes and ages, ob- taining essistooce in their work, constitutes im- posture, then sllare impostors aliko, and, the gooner ogr countryinen Lnow they are enconrag- ing fraud, tho bettor for then, and the more juss for us; but NO EXCEPTIONS WILL TE ADMITTED. Cortain arsista wail no longer be percilted to Loust of their moral rectitude, when they can lay claim to no mors Lonor sud integrity than oursclves ; mor will the cant auy longer be Loler- ated of the self-styed ** honest man ' who asserts that Lis copscienco will not permit bim to visit cortain studion wherein tho artista are guilty of imposture, while he can duily vizit the studio of 1118 neighbor who_resorts to the self-gome prac- tices. ly intention, herafter, is to publich without reservo, the namo of &by artist whom I can prove to Lave reitorated Mr. Healoy's assor- tious, partly because I do 1o chooso that euch asserlions bould any longer be made with = punity ; partly that ab lesst my friends may bo placed upon their guard against my calumpia-~ tora. Bat to return to the queation. . Was Alr. Healey aware, or was Lanot aware, whon Lo wroto of Mr. liogers as au_ Lonest. artist, in con- tiadistinction to ourscives, that-his practice in his profeesion in no way- differs from the prac- tice of those who have come under his seourga ? Is ho prepared to como forward, atd, npon his oath, declaro that neitber had such a suspicion ever crossed bis mind, nor bad such 3 fact over como within hia knowledge? Nol unless he i8 Since writing tho above, the very - excellent lettor of Ar. Georgo Tizkuor Curiis-has ‘resched me. will b Been, by refercnce. to- that Jeteer, ihat -thia yery eminent IaWyEr ewpivys Ll sains argument, prepared to set veracity at defiance, be is not prepared 10 do this. Beforo Ar. Healey ever 8ot foot in Rome, before he aver. set out upon Lhis pratonded mission of investigation, he knew, whatever the results of that investigation might be, who wero to bo the artists named a8 impios- tors. Thoy wore to be those artists not belong- 1ug to THE CI.TQ“ WHOSE INT) TS OE SERVES, The real question of our intozrity never found 8 place in his programme. 1o oboged a motive poscr, unseen by the public, but” divined and understood by ull artists, end’ by many boyond the urtistio citcle,—s power which governed overy movement, and whish inspiced every woid ho ponned. To those who aro familiar with Rome, and who_know how_completely artistic sociely is di od, this assertion will oxcite Lut litclo surpriso, Vieitors to this city are not _slow in discovering the total absenco of wocial intor- courso betwaen artists who compose this eligue and others of tho fratornity. Wo' indeed form a pleasant ideal of artist-life in ITtaly, when from & distauco wa contemplato the possibilities which exist of rendering that society delight- ful; but persoval observation of that sosioty, and porsonal contact with many of its ertists, soon dispel tho ngrecable - illusion, aud 'the mew sspirant to artistio Levors 18 not long in espousing tho causo of ond or tho other of these factions; the barrior Decomes complote, and_oxtonds itself, not only to artists’ studios, but to their Lomes; and monthg—uay, even years—pass without any oc- casion presenting itclf for two artists, who aro, perhinps, working within a stoue's throw of cach othicr, to exchanyze a word or a salutztion. Much a8 this condition of thivgs ia to be deplored, 1t nevertlieless exints, and, when lkaown, may sorve to rendor the truo point of Mr. Hezley's atteck more perspicuous. Ard hero I must protest against the nse which bas been made of the namo of Mr. Powers in connectivn with this attack. A man utterly do- void of all petty jealousics: groater, even, us & mau thun as an artist, kindly and holpful to bhis Joungor ‘brothren, geacrous and just to all, I elievo him to.have beon utterly incapablo of uilering the language, or couceiving the inten- tions, which hava beon attrivuled to Lim by Mir. Aealdy, aud tisis i, by far, TAE MOST INQUITOUS FEATURE of the whole transactiou. Thz living are here to dofend themselves,—tho dead rely upon our generosity. i No! tho object of this attack is not to defend the honor of Americanart. Itis not to defend the intogrity of ber artists, nor_to protact thoir bonest interests. Would that its_aims wero so ure! It is now many years sinco I first ot foot in Rome, and tho same influences aro at work, now as then, to undermine the raputation of houast artists. Is it not time that these disgrace- 1ul sttacks should cease? What discredit thoy cast npon o noble profession! What infinito diseredit and contempt they bring upon the namo of American artist! **'What!” oxclaimed Signor Gentili, the Roman lawyer, apon receiv- ing his instructions regarding - Mr. Piatti, “isit poesible that tho American artists speal of cach other in this manner! Thank God that our Italiana, jealous of cach othor as they may b, have never yot deacended to such mean- ness!™ And is 18 true. Lt is left for tho Amer— ican artists to asuail cach other with a pertinaci- tyand an amimosity unknown to suy other pationality of the fraternity. It isloft for our countrymen to organize a form of sttack whick, for utter bascness, ean nover bo surpsssed. Is there notbing in Art, nothing in the oxercise of anobls vocation, which sbould ratso us a little way boyond the sphero of B VULOAR AIMS AND MISESABLE JEALOUSIES? Must wo be forever trailing her whito garmaents through the mud, and be- forever vilitying our brothren? Our ealumpiators - may, indeed, im- pose upon the crodulity of afaw; but is it ot possible that, by thoir very bitterness, they may yet defeat their own object? Is it not possiblo that all bonest and honorable men may yet dis- cern the truc voices which have spoken,—voices which, however ingeniously dizguisod; are not o cffectually dieguised 88 fo - escapo Tecognition. There aro many who will diseera this possibility; aud, whon thoee artists have reached the status of truo gentlomen, they. will discover this facs for themselves. 1. G. HosyER. ‘Box, Juuc 29, 1874, il N P R LAKE-FOREST ACADEMY. The announcement of the Principal and Trus- tees of Lake-Porest Acsdomy will be found in snother colamn. As stated at the last" Com- mencemeat, the Trustees bave selectod A, R. Sabin, A. ML, 25 the Principal. The Chi~ago Teacher gives him the following woll-merited complimont : : Capt. A, B. Babin, for many years Principal of one of thie dtstrict schudls of this city, and receudy teacker of Latin in the Migh School, hua just been elected Principal of Lako-Forest Academy. Mr. Sabin lus long been recoguized as a leading educator in Chicago and the Northwest, and Is 8 teacher of acknowledged ability, .0 refinod sud sccursto scholar, s Clristfan- gentiewan of unoxcoptionable ~lear- ing in ail Dbiy relatioos, snd n most thor- ough eficiont disciplivarip, Mr. Sabm and g£0us to this ficld of Iabor With the prestige of & rure succees, and 13 followed by the kind sentimonts of & st of fricrds, Tho Trustees of this justitution, in tlsir cboire of MrSchin, nre but carrying out their declared purpoke to mako the Acsdemy worthy of {he fulleot contidence and npport ; and, that ke may not Dbein tho lewst embarrassed, they will surround Lim with £n cfficient corps of inslractors. Wikt i a gain 10 the Academy 13 losa o Chicago, which eam fil af- ford to spars such men. Whils wo regret bis traus- fer, our congratulations aro tendersd to tho Academy £nd to the people of Lako Foreat, . * An oxperienced and competent corps of aseist- ants have bean cogaged, and the hizh character the institntion has heretofore ‘scquired will Le fully maintained. - Parents aud guandians can havo their sons and wards fitted for .college, or propared for'ths active daties of life. A'num- ber of rooms are already engaged, and those who wigh to place their #ons in & school whera they will bave the best of inetruction, and be directly under tho care of the Principal and bis assist- ants, should send their applicstions & onco to Capt. Sabin, at Lake Forest. i “IT IS NO SAD DELUSION. 1 have something Jesus gave me ¢ For my own § Itis something which be sent mo From iis throns, 1 &id n0t sack for hidden goid I earth's ground, Nor givemy wealth o gain the pearl e * Waich 1 found, It is something which I carry ‘Near my heart ; And ‘tis eafe till Jesus bids me From it part, Initself i hasno value Moro than tears ; Though I weary s T bear it, T'va 1o fears, Like His presence, it doth bring me Peace Divine *Tis His sweet and tender whisjer Thou art mine | What's the gift T clasp 80 clozely 7 Would'st thon,res 2 *I4s the Cross which Christ, my Master, Hsa gent me. 1f my human hands had found it, 1 ehould gri Jae s d grie But my Jesus Jaid it on 1 Lelieve, It f6 precious as a token From my Lord, That Iis heart’s thoughts are s loving As His word. Cheerfally Tl try to bearft As s gift, For the burden of my treasure Clirist will ift, X [ ——— A Quecr Little Yankes Woman in the Paris Galleriess Faris Letter from I.u:}y/'rumu n the Pliladelphia e85, Tho fanniest person 1 have seen for s long time was n chubby little old maid from Connecti- cut. who, hearing mo_speak English, . intro- duced herself to me at the Kulon a few days cgo, Sho had como over to Europe all alone, sbo told me, and what sho came for was a marvel to me, for 4 more ignorant little persomage it has seldom been my Jot to encounter, sod whatever induced her to come eo far to eee & country of which she had heard o little, was a perfeot riddle. Ehe knew nothing of history, and had pever heard of such a placo aa Versailles, and 28 to the pictures, ber delight at finding somebody who would tell her what they were all about was extremo. But when I atterpted to explain their sub- jeets to ber, Xfcund the tank one of considerable Aificulty, for £be knew notning about the Eub- jects tliemselves. She never bad * beard tell” ot such & woman as Cleopatra: the mythological subjocis puzzled hor dreadfully, the hietorical ones were no better, sud only the Scriptural ones scemed to awaken eome fapuliar . ides in her mind. At last wo camo to Dertrands lovoly picture of Romoo &nd Juliet. * Are they dead, or nre thoy ssleep, and who are thoy ?” eho asked all in 8 breath. . I informed ber that the -picture repre- gentod Romeo snd Juliet Iving dead before the gato of Julict's tomb. - ** Ab-h-h!” she ejacu- lated, backing off to take a better viow of the Then, after a log eeratiny, ebe turned figures. . ] b d to me again, -+ French people, weren't thoy? ehe esked. I could bear no more. I fled pre- cipitately in the opposite direction, and-aston- jshed-the sober. guardian of the Agricaltural Department by iodulzing in wild shrieks of langhter before & large drawing of-a Grocisn temple. ; P METROPOLITAN MODES, Fashion Tyrannized Over by Plutus: Garments and Gewzaws at Loung Branch. Kew and Noticeable Costumes—Tow Huck Bore Taste Can Sccomplish tkan Mooy, Tawdrincss and Extravagance in Dress=-- Art Strlving to Compensate for ihie Barrenness of Rature. From Our Own Torrespondent. New Yorg, July 22, 1374, To sco tho foehions in their eplendor and va- riety at this season, one really should visit tho watoring-places, siuce no adequate notion of the toilottes can bs hiad from oxaminations at the modistes’ shops, So many of tho best-known resorts ars but a little way from tho Metropolia that it 1s vot at all diflicult to snatch glauces at each duing the summer, cven if cne docs not choose to s:ay long in & place. FINANCIAL FASHION. 4 Long Branch, porbaps, moro than any other warm-weather hmuut, oxcept Baratoza, is filled with paople Laving icw valuable acquisitions save money. You feel the presence of money, sometimes overwhelmingly, tho moment you step upon the long plaiform at tho station. If, in stezd of driving, you choosa to walk down the Diufr on the wey to & hotel, you fcel money more eensibly than cverin the fow tawdry turnouts that cover you with dust 88 they dash by. Thoat- mosphera of the piazzas that you cross to reach the hotel-parlor is redolent of money; nd in the dining-room moncy is almost stifling. Doubtless tho majority of parsons who go to Long Branch go there not merely for display, but for gepnine enjoyment after their own fashion; nevertheless their enjoyment is in what they would find intolerable Lad they more taste, culture, and rofinewont, Naturally, thereforo, since money is the ap- paront causa of tho Long Branch poriulation, tho effect reen in tle clothes—forming, as you know, no ingignificant part of feminiue wa- tering-placo life—is of cxceeding expense, not, by any means, always tempered by gocd taste and propricty. Mayhap it is not common to sce dizmonds at 8 o'clock breakfast, but other thinzs equally abenrd and out of placo are constantly scon without csusing remark. Of course thero aro many quict and retiring poople who follow simple and nnnaticeablo routine (there must be leaven in cvery loaf); who dress with modeet elegance. aud (figuratively speakinyg) make no noiso. But these, agreeable as they are to die- uro cowparaively few; bocauss euch mottsle choose either to - summer smong their own Lind, or in sequesicred spots, whore few of &ny kind are wont io gather. TIE DRESSING AT LONG FRANCH is, on the whole, mick plaiuer this year than for eeveral seasons past. The lfinaucial closcness of the Iast year Las becn as sensibly felt by the holders “of long purses 88 by those who hold ghort oncz, or nono at ail. It is common enough B0 t0 4eo a two-shilling percale in place of the three-quarters-ot-n-dollar linon _cambric or French Jawa of o by-gono timo. Where tinted silk gkirta wera worn for morning, before, tinted cambrics take their pisee. Whero hand- c:nbroidery was oweo indispensable, ma- rine-work is sllowed to _do servico. Whero ike fne fairy-wobbod French Valen- cicnues Jace was wont to border flounces and furpelows by the dozens .of yards, it is used eparingly, or gives way to Lis excellent imitator, 1o mochine-made Italian edge. Theso things ero tho merest trifles ic themselves; but they show how the monetary wind is Llowing. Even smong tlie wealthy habitics of the Braach, moze care 18 taken in the Eponding of a dollar, this vear, thau in tho waating of fvo last summer. "There is a maguificent opportanity for the presens monetary stringency to work lasting reform in tho exponsivenees of the current fashions ; but it is not likely to bo embraced. T'here is a very @ark sido to tha fack that far a woman to dress ovdmanly - well requires that she shall either vweate Ler lifo in cutting and contriving to create somatling from nothing, or that sho shall spend half or two-thirds of what an average man, or all of what an averago woman, can earn. There is certninly a hitch somewhero in the system of -politic.-sova) economy that allows sach a condi- tioa of aati-domestic tendoncies to exist. OME OF THE TOILETTES 2 8¢ the Branch suggest no- dminution of pocket+ money, Liowever many numismatic skelctons are hidden' by their flowing folds. For iustance, & Vall-dress, the property of a newly-mnde wife, i8 formed of the finest silken tisape.” Tho skirt is covered by ingeniously-arranged gatherod ruffles of the samo, bordered by o fine edging of old Spanish bionde-tace (that, you know,which looks liko a delicato web of sills, end is just off whits in color); the hieading of tho Jace being wreaths ‘of forget-mo-nots wrought by hand io colored floseos round tho trimmings of tho dress. The weist is bigh, with s dcep-pointed neek, and deep waist-puints before and behind. . Laced in tuo back, tho waist is parily coucesled by a long sear! (embroidered all over -with matching wreaths), which is worn over the shonlders, aud crossedon the bosom like m fichu, and whose cuds tio loosely low on Lhe short brain. Tho gown is said to be from Worth; but I thinkita Toug way from Worth, 80 mach fier in tasto, 2nd so much more delicate in finish, is it than any I Lave ever scea from his honds. is not Lnown who made this , or, indeed, of tha really clegant outfit of this especial bridaling. = She ro- fuses to contde to the sympathetic and expect- cot public anything sbout flor ‘clothes, of the value of lor betrothsl diamond, or her ante- matrimonial affairs generally, She ia known to have been comparatively poer beforo ber mar- riage to her rich and devoted lord ; and, as ghe always seoms busy with one or another bit of Jicedle-work, wkea not reading to ar walking with her spouse, I shrewdly suspect that many of her prottiest’ cosiumes muy bsve been nok only tho design of hor own brain, bus the excca- tion of Lor own fiugers. ELTOANT MODNING-COSTUME. The other morning eho wont to breakfastin s fino white plaid muslin drees, so cbsolutcly plain thot not oven & Quaker .could. ave criti- cised it. The ekirt.was guiltless of ruille, or tuck, or pufl; a broad hem the only finish, Tho polonaise, having just the right degres of stiffuess to hang in the softest of folds, was bordered by 2 narrow edging of fine cambric. A loosely-knotted barbe of blue guipuro, with & tiny bunch of fresh rose-buds, was ot the peck; and not a jewel or bit of gold except her wedding-Ting wos to bo secu. ‘Tha materials for tho wuit, probably, did not cost $10; yetnine out of overy ton casusl observers would have picked Tor out as tho most elegantly-dressed woman in the breakfast-room. There is no ugo in_disputing the fact that the woman makes the clothes, not the clothes the woman. A MATEED CONTRAST. For example : Last week, ono of the wealthi- st women at the Branch teok her morning-drive along the Bluff in &_superb four-iv-band, ard wearing a bleck silk grenadine gown, finisked by many pipings, folds, etc,, of brlliant gold- colored satm. Her black chip-hat was trimmed with a web cf blaci Clantilly, with gold-tinted satin in innumerable bows' and bindinga, and an immense bunch of thoeo large yellow roses, each 88 large as a preserve-sauccr, placed -high on ons side. if this mixture did not constitute garniture enough for & simplo morning-Lat, tho whole was surmount- ed, outwined, and overehzdowed by a very brond Sud sery loag ostrick-plume, wkich hung bLalf down the weerer's back. "Just imagme this toilet ariving slowly along in front of the hotels st 10 oclosk in tho morning. If you didn’t know, yon might 5Ippose thie woman Was Crazy; if you did know, you would eimply remember she is rich. TOTDNESS OF TONT. Tndoubtedly, this instance is an exaggerated type of ke tendency to overdiess among the deaizers of Long ’r:mch,l already sjoken of. Tout there is @ prevailing * Joudness * of tons in iho attiro as well oa in the demeanor of the Prencherz, which is not visible at Newport or Cape A=y, = Nor is tbo oversrecning fondness for elaborate clcthes covfinad o one eex. Oaly afewdeys 2¢o, £n amiaule idiot of the fiching ecx was overheard to remark to & bosom-friend-snd fellow-idiot, that bechanged his suit Tegulariyfonr times o day, and, when occasion’ required, that he; thonght nothiog of achioving a sixth'toiletto. The ouly reason that he has'time to emerge from his gar- mental sanctum, €0_as to be saen of an observ- ing and envious world, i3 that, by Do 1wgeauity af detention, can be spend &8 gauch timo over Lis sartorial slterations as & watering-place belle can over au equal number of mantuan changes. 1t s possible for him, notwithstanding the four snd sometimes six suits 3 day, to shino ro- splondent in each for a fow moments at least, in drawing-room, in dining-room, or on piazza, and g‘bx;iozn the “Lilling™ oifect upon & dazzled c. DEFECTS OF TAL PLACE. _The cottagers 2t Long Lranch have s much higher average of tasto and reinement thau tho hiotel-peoplo have, though, uulite Newpost, iha cottago-people form but 4 meagre portion of the summer-gojourncrs. ‘Lid wonder is, that thera shouid be any cottage-people 2t all, fora mora unattractive spot than Qcean avenue to build a houeo upon can hardly be imagined. The houscs facing the sen aro shut away {rown any viewof it by tho houses opposite, wlich are back to it, and by tho bluff, which entirely cats off tho sight of tho broaking waves. A for tho residences nearest tho son, their rears are turned towerd it ; there- fore, all the rooms from which a good view can bo had are occupicd either by the servauts or the necessary offices of the eatablishment. Superhuman effurts, added to unlimited means, Lave Lardly beou sblo toreiso a spear of grass ore feeblo shrub ; and almost never 15 a good- sized tree scen growing in thesoil. Now and then, amiserable apology foran evorgreen, or maplo, of beacy, is_porceplible, struggling_with lifo in a graen-nainted box, on what 18 politely calied tho front lawn of the handsome cottagas; and, on Bome of tho older places, a fow hardy, detor- mined trees have taken rootin tho grouud. Still, it seems lixe money thrown away Lo try w0 cextraet soft_herbage or tue trees fiow tho bax rou, sandy deposit of the oecan, 3 NATURE AND AR Bat, tho losaNature clothes the placa In fitting gavb, tho more Art is iuclined to cloths tho peJ- plo in every extravagauce of mode. ‘Tothd feminine mind, it ia really Worth comiog occa- sionally to the Branch to 8eo the dreswing; and minds not ferainine appear not backward in appreciation of eflects, if not of causes. 1f not slways in the best of tasts, it oc- casionnlly “foud,” with a marked leaning toward fawdriness, still tho dressing at Long Branch is rich, varied, brillunt,—forming a more conspicaous paxt of its life than of lifo at resorts where thera i3 moro to do and sce. DBe- sida tho one ocean view, no sight at the Now Jersoy “Bummer Capital” is €0’ intercsting and attractive 3 tho hords of pretty women i pret- ty clothes. FunpeLow. CAIN. Thero was blood on the hend, not visible to tho eyo; to the sixht it wat oniy 2 brovn hand, tunned by tho sun, rather 2iim and delicate for the Land of & mier; yol there waa bloud upon it. The soal coald 8o 1t, even if the cyes could not. "There was blood, too, on the brow. Trus, tho light of the sun revealed it not. Ouly o smooth forehead, with nigh tewplvs, and a full swell to tho brain; rather echolarly; rather intellectual than otherwise; rather an unusuzl face inits refinensent for a rough mining life; yet thera was o broad stain of blood upon it— A IORRID, st '3 SIAIN. No water could wash it away. True, the ekin was fair and white. save a slight vellowish tinge, como of days upon tho desert, cad & faiut line whera the hat prossed; yet, with the vision of gome subtloinner scnss, ono saw tho hideous moar of blood thera; saw it in tho glare of the noonday-san; saw it in tho decpeet darkness of ho black widnight. I first met him ot Camp Date Creck, Arizons, where I was awaiting orders to proceed to my own post, Rathar a ploasant facs, only reserved and still. Ieat and talked awhile with him, pleased to find one who was intolligent and who could converse woll. The hot wun of the June morning was poar- ing its heat down upon me a8 I sat, uutil T thought I must scek the shade of the tent. Then, I folt it como over mo (once beforo I felt it whea I sat by a man who was afterward hang- ed for murder) ; folt it,—not chill, nota shiver; my hands were warm, ood my pulee fall and strong; 1o, not a chill, certainly not a chill, but A COLD, WORDLESS HORROR, Ono stands near a precipice. e is in no bod- ily peril ; yet.a terror creeps and creeps, from tho heart, elong tho hr_nncl_.\il;fi course of tho Blood-vesacls, out to the tips of tho starting bair. He is in no bodily peril; why does he etand Enlled, and this terrof come mpon him,: odily horror? Decauso the physical being shrinks from the contiguity of this rawning ty of destruction. Through every nerva ap- this | o e 8 haunteth the brink! Fles, lest madness seize thee, lest tha abyss charm tbee, reachout to theo, and thou cast thyseif down!” . Is tha soul-horror that seizes ona, when in the presence of grost_crimo, hko ths. non more subtile senee ? Is it that the s starts back, shouts to itseif an alerm, noss seize Apon it, too, and tempt 1t o tue soul- death that it fecls beaide it? Iknowuot; I only nsk. Teat in tho hot sun, and the CHILL TORZOR CREPT AND CREPT OVER ME. Thon my eycs were clear; then I eaw (ho crimson. atain on the brow—thLo blood-smear 5 saw it, thongh tho faca was bont to the groand ; saw if, though tLo bat-rim was pulled dowr, covering all, even to tho eyes, that were cast downward and nover lificd to meet mine. When, where, how ? I Lnew not. It might havo boen on the high scas, in the city slums, in the lona bosom of the desert, known ol no eye save the unsleeping oye of God ; but . TUB BRAND OF CAIN WAS TUERE. My wvoice waa not changed ; I did not move; no shrinking away; and ho ‘had not locke up. Yet he kuow that the chill had come to me: Lo know thas my oyes that moment wers opened; ho know, know to tho decpest dopths of his shrinking soul, that I saw the crimson, the blood. Then the eycs, the carefally-veiled eves, Lifted to mine—only an instant lifted, with o horror, 3 huntod despair, like the lock of the damned. Tho first slayer £o looked when tho burning eyo of God mado him faco that tarriblo question, *Cainl where is thy brotker?* Yeat one day in tho sbade of the hospital teht. Onoof the pationts inside—sn odd kind of A man who had & queer fancy for reading nloud passages of Scripture—was turning the Joaves of his Bible, and reading. I satpartly hidden by hanging fiap of the tent, idly gazing a¢ the green fringe of trailing vines crecping and twining sloog tho jsgged, Tocky edze of the csnon which ran—a huge chasm—throogh the imesabelow the cmp. Taat, idly gazing, when ho camo elowly walk- ing by, and then stopped a moment, aud stood Jooking toward the Lrown mountains beyond ; only, be secmed not to sce the mountains; the oyos scemed to be Jooking, with tbat peculiar re- trospective gaze, somewlors, &t somoikiog, ina timo long past. : 5 He stood gazing, yot not seeing. I satinthe shadow of tue tent, silently watching his face. The voico of tho sick men within, reading in Lis odd, fanciful woy, picking here aud thera a gen- tence, fell on the silence: nos breaking it; ratlier, in the contrast of tha low tonos, intensi- fying it o 128 ™ And tho Lord sasd unto Cain, Where is Abel, thy brother?. .. . ., TIE VOICE OF TAY BROTIER'S BLOOD crieth unto me from tue groond. . . .And now att thou cursed from the catth. . . . A fugitive and a vagabond slalt thou bo in tho earth. - . .And tke Lord set a mark upon Cain, lest any finding hum shouid kill him.” ‘He stull s00d with the vacant eyes fixed upon the brown, desolate mountains, At frss ho not seem to hear the voico of the reader. Then tho vocant look died away from tho eyes. He turued and listencd. ‘the uncomacious voica within, with & strenge pertinaciiy, egain yead : w, . . The voice of thy brother's bicod crioth nnto s from tho groved, . . . Aud pow art thou cursed from the carth. . . . A fugitive and & vagabond shalt thou ba inthe earth.” ‘As the volco slowly read, n look of surprise, of incredulity, came to tho face—s look ag of one waking from a dream. Thenthe eyes, that al- ways in the presenca of zocther w down, —the ehrinking eyes.—dilated ; the white, up- lifted balls turnod yellow ; tbo brow grow livid with the biood that swelled and stagnated in tho bleck veins, filled almost to bumstinZ. 1 could not move. I still 52t in the shada of the tent, and watched hiz. A The Livid face turned to meal the skiea; tho slim, sun-burned hauds elowly lified to tle heavens—lified as the hands of ons chained, Who sees the hanging mouxtains falling upou him. A look of korror came acd seiled down upon the brow. 1t waa not fear: tho look was too hopelees for fear. It was not d-spar; the ook was too still, 100 quiet for despadr. It wou borror— COLD, WORLDLESS, STONY TOREOD. | The damned look €0, lio n il deptus of heli, and ECOW, a3 0O IOz that wwful word, esernity. Tiev, ia thair tor- ment, groaning, hopeleas, they look so. Ho was goingon from the camp in comneny with 2 small party of travelezs, who vere about to start by the old military raad, whick the way of Wickenberg across the Rio Salado, w! i Maricops Wells, He had by accidens met them, to the i g month 6 o3t joins the (%ta, beiow. | and bad arranged to travel with them. I Doticed, however, when the party left he did nos £0 with thom, but remained in camp. I did not ask him why, bat, in soma sarprise, I spoke to a member of the party whom I met by himself. He secmeil at a loss to reply ; but, looking around uneasily, he finally, with some hesitation, gaid that they did not like to tiavel with that man. They could not tell why, but thera was some- thing about him tha thre droad upon them, whicn they conld not shako “off. So they had told him tuoy preferred to travel slone. He did not look surprised, but simply bowed his head, a3 though be bad oxpected it. There was o look in tho eyes us of one who felt himselfin the grasp o.l a fato agunst which Le conld noteven strug- gle—a look of abject, hopelcsa submission. I thought of tha voice of tho sick man reading, BA llll‘uum‘fi avd a vagaboud elialt thou bo i tho eurth! The party left without him. e went tho next day alone. Tho third day, two other men went on tho same road. A weok aftorward, a squad of cavalry, patroling the road, found tho stripped mutilated bodies of both the first and the les patties, murdered by the Apaches. Lfis bedy they d:d not find, ~“Many wonths afterward, when tho hostile Indisus had goue upon a reser- yation, ono of them told of & war party waylay- ing tho road and killing & small band of travel- ers. The next day, he 6sid, a singie white man rode Ly, but_they faid quict and did not molest bim, The third day thoy killed two more meu. When asked why they gpared the man who Lud Eamd by their ambiish, traveling alone, be suid o did not kuox; only, tomething,, 6O3E STRANGE FELLING they coald not understaud, hed held them back, and kept tikem from barming him. ad tho Lord set a mark uion him, * Lest any finding him shouid Eill him 77 I mot bum zgam, a year fater, at Camp Bowie, Apacao Pass, whore L was thou'stationed. I was asked to go 2nd sce a sick man duwa upon the izt below tho Lill, whera 3 small party, wero 0a- camped near the wpring. Mo was lying o the ilgndu of & wagon, sleeping. Istood and watched e Wkten I was a child, I used to Liear, among old nuwsery-tales, one, thut & murderer always after- wards slept with bis eves partly open. Children will héar and relaco such odd fancies. As I gres older, of courso I knew better, and this sharcd tho fato of my many other chidish delusions, stood and watched him ox he slept. Strange! I shivered ; it was foolish, but I could not Lelp it. The eyclids hung half open. The oychalls were not turned up, os ona often sees in eleep, giowing only the whitea. Tho dark pup:ls glared out with a dull, glazed, stony stare. Do The desd stare £o in thoir graves? Foolish! Iknowit is foolish. I haveseen sick peoplo in Lospitals, sleep with tho eyes only partly closed—-Fpeople who ware near death. Iknow it 1 foolish ; yes it was strange how thoso full cyo-balls glared into tho doy with that dead, stony starc. Isaw nim onco again. I was settled in Los Angelea. I sab ouo evening in tho dusky twi- Jight in my ofiic. The sun had gouo down_be- hind s fog-bank in tho Weat, aud the dark phudows were falling from tho hilla. Isat and lookod out into the graygloom. Then—thy chul crept over me. I know that ho wus these. 1 turped and looked. The- evening gloom had rown thicker. Low fog-clouds drifted quickly y. Inthe open door, against the cold, gray palsied. “fhen over the hegcard face crept sgain (my Godl can I ever shut it out from my sight?)—over the hollow choeks, the starting :flcs, the distorted, ciammy brow, crepi again 0 STONY, HOPZLESS HOREOB. 1 nover saw him again. Inthe northwest corner of Ban Bernardino Counts, Iying partly also in Inyo County, and, by fho nowly-surveyed line, partly also in tho Btate of Nevads, i3 & region paralleled by few other spots upon the face of the earth. ‘We say, ihe world is instiact with life. Here, if tho phrase- ologry may be pordoned, i8 & placa_instinct with death. ‘A huge basin, whosa rim ia the ancient Inils, stricken’ with tho barrconess of eternal dexolation ; whoso bosom, the blasted waste of {hio desort, trceless, shrubless, and waterless, save a fow bitter pools like the lye of potash- water ; surrounded by mountains that tower {housands of feot above the sea-level, itself ly- ing 300 feet below the sea. It is a very ** Gehen- 1a "—a place of death and bones. Birda do not fly over it. Animalsdonotenterit. Vegetation cannot exist in it. The broad sands absorb the heat, the bars mountains refect it, the uncloud- ed ein daily'adds toit. Ninety degrees in the shade (aruilicial shade, there is no other) means winter, One hundred and thirty and ‘140 de- grees, thal is fummer. The bot air grows hotter, wavers, trembles with heat, until natare, goaded to madness, can ecdure wo more; and then tho burning blast routea itself—rouses in its might ; rousea as an angry bosst, witha hoarse, ominous roar; sweeps mile after mile, on, ever on, over the broad Teach of tho dosert, beatiog in its black, whirk ing boscm—black aa the midnight— DUST, BAND, ALKALI, AND DEATH. - . Sometinies a murky cloud gathers upon the mountains above; then there is & rush,—a \warniug sigh on the winds,—a low rumbling in the air; the hills quiver, the earth trombes, and a torrent, hialf water, half mud, bonnds from tho Bills, leaps into the desart, plowing chaams like river-beds in tho loose saud. The clouds scatter, tho san comes sgain, the oternal thirst of the desert i3 mot quenchod. Tho raging river was only & dream. p In the year 1849 a party of emigrants entered tho basin. Day after day they toiled on,— thirating, dyipg. Tho pitiless mouatatns walled them in; no escape. One by one they. dropped sud died. A fow, sbandoning everything, scaled the mountains and oscaped. Tbe others lie a8 they foll, dricd to mummies,—no birds even to Gevour their flesh, no beasts to prey upon thom. \Wagon-tires_unrasted, gun-barrela Lright, un- tarnished. Such is the place. Mile after mils silenco reigns: silence—and death. ; Walledl by the mountains, domed with brazen aky, Leagas after 1oaguo the never-eading ssud - Spreads like tho ocean, to the Lifting oge. A aged, weary, long-forgotten lund ‘As cureed in wrath, aud smit with God’s ficrce hand, No coolicg mist gaenches the endless thirst TThat rulea suprome the boundiess etrelches grand ; Over its broad expanse 0o storm-clouds brrst With hurrying feot. Tt is & Innd accursed, It is a8 though Nature bad gatherod all of the curaes—heat, thiret, alkali, barrenness, death— all in one huga mass of hatred, and butled it, & TERRIDLE ANATHEXA OF ETERNAL DESOLATION, npon the shiuddering earth. Sho has mado of it s Golgotha—a place of elulls, Aftsr giving to otherjands hor blessings, the -wasing of groen trecs, tho cooling flash of waters, soft breezes, gontlo eunshine, slo comes hore—like a msd- man, when the fit is on bim, going away by him- 8ot to foam at the moutb, to rage, to gnash his tecth—she comes here, with fire, with tempest, with tha dresd simoon, and lashes the elements into fury. Sho hurls the blazing heat likea fire- bolt, licks mp tho last trace of moisturo with a tonguo of fame, goars Lhe groauing mountaing with burniog_winds, rides upon the relentleas ssnd-storm—Ruin bestriding red-mouthed De- vasintion for o charger. Or, it is 28 thoush God had repented Him of THis anger, when He eaid, ** Cursed be the caril for thy sake! "—ss though He repented Ilim, gud withheld His curse; and yet, that His word ight not bo brolen, gathored up the bitterncss ot tho curse, distilied it, concentrated it, grasped fue very eseerce of it in His band, and, raising it 2loft, burled it—ono awful bolt of consuming wrath—downward. and it hit the northweetern cornar of San Bernardino County. Men call the -spot whero it struck, i 4 DEATH VALLET. 3 One day, an old ecquaintanco came tomy office _ roving, good-natured fellow, with a stronz pprociation of the advantagea of money, bat & ehronic distike to its acquisition by hard labor. The vesult has been, o lifo frittered away in wild-goose chases after eunken treaturcs, lost mines, and other attractive yeb sadly delusiva dreams of suddenly-acquired -ealth.” Thia time he wasjust back, with his partner, from o soorch mlong the borders of - Death Valley for tho famous Gua-sight lcde.” e story of the mino s briefly thiz: Two of Lo sarvivora of the cmigraut party waich was loat in Death Valloy in 13:9, sceling the moua- torn to escape, found., by their report, a silver 18ine of surprising Tichaess. Ovo of fho mea. ‘a8 tho Etory gos3, picked out & pieca of the virgin metal. and hammered it into & sight for his gun, to replace ono which he had lost, I be- liove both mon died witnout beviug had tha 20t0 go back, through the ecene of thek rrible sufforing, in scarch of thospot. How- ever this may be, the mine was lost. It 18 known )t over the border to-day as ‘¢ the Gun- fode Atvarious tiries parties have searchad for it, but elweys unsuccessfally. ] %o did not fnd ths mine,” a2l my friond ; « but one day, when toiling throuzh the sand in the edgo of the valley, we cama upoa DRIED, SKINNY RENAINS OF A AN, - perished _evideutly all slome. A note-baok, partig-nritten, wis_caoght under tho bod7 in oh'a manner that it hed not been blown awas. ‘scemed to refer, in places, toa mite Fiso Gan-eight lode ; but we conld not reiand it, o d, as wo were 21s0 ehort . .Bestles ths man Sona, we did not search jo s wo conld decipher, thy Iy been crazy ; o we paid lees at- L Roweyer, thinking vou might like to sea it ; 119 wo arc tired of this resion, and are going tack in Coiorado, it will be of mo nse = Yoft the bool with mo. Ttisa small, ~apd memorsndum-book, With tucd, as a bachground, Le stood—stood as one | euch ns one carrios in & breast pocket ; much dried by the sun, and the wridngp?g‘mtén with poncil) often enfirely effaced. The following is all that ] hava been abla to decipher. Igivs it ‘withont any attempt to connect tho marrative, &r ;g'::l(l‘ l:;x:n\’:rgufp.m Inu:(.;‘l, the writer seems t ed littlo rog ity in bi if zecord it can bo ealtat oy dnbis record, **Blood on my hands ! A blar of crimson be- for6 my eyes! ‘Tho skies aro brazen 36ove me. The run is sick with gore. Tho winds from the desers sliiek at ma—shisk aud lowl; aad this word only do they wail "oars—thi dreadful worl, dipiielis _ Sacepeel” 1 stop my oars with my buuds; I cry aloud to frown thewr wailing }u 3. 1 cannot drown it. caunot keep itout. It pierces me—pi P throngh and throaghs © Spleireame *“What is it? 1 sm bowildered. Whyam I flsing a8 one who soeks tho ends of the earth? Yesterday earth had no horror for me. Tho sua was not veiled in blood. The winds were only winds—not demon voices. Ab! now I recoliect. God pity mo! Tity? I forgot. o can ouly curse me, Anaibilato mo. O God! Blot me out from the universo. That would be pity. It all comes back to mo now. It is seared in my brain: the long eearch for the mine; tke days 1 tho desort, in the mountains; aud then, bohind that Lill that overlooks the ‘Valley of Death,’ tho veia of the whito, shining silver— wealth for a King, Then it swept over me—my years of poverty, of toil—the cold sneor of tho rich, &s they saw my penury; and here was wealt. I wculd have it all—all. Not even my partner should tlrg tho treasure. I was mad. He stooped to pick up the precious metal, and I struok him—him, the fricud of my toils, the ong who had never reilod mo—him, who had shared his food with me; wiio hd stept, nron the dez- ert, in the mountaius, undor the same blanket; ‘who had nuracd 1a¢ in sickness— I STRUCK HIM TO THE EARTH. God! I wasmad. “T was alono with my weelth; with my wealth—sh | zod tho dead. I hadnot thongkt of the cold, still face that would lia thero, after tho blow ; of the sightless eycs staring to heaven. Then the maduess loit me. I throw mgself be- side him; prayed him to siwake; felt for tla heart-beat. Dead—dead! O, my God!—dead— the fricnd of my toils. And I was & murderer— & ourderer !" Hore some leaves aro missing from the book, 28if torn ont. I transcribs agam, na tho record §oos on: *Wandering, still wandering. Earth hasno rest for my foot; ond I am so weary. When I stop, the oarth Spurns me, and tho pitiless akica cry, ‘Onl onl' Starving! penniless!—and thero, back thers is wealth tntold. Yet I daro not xeek it, dare not tell of it ; for there, too, ig that cold, still face, with tho sightless eyes gaz- ing at the heavens; and the red blood cryiog, over orying, 10 God, Iwanderon. And ever I feal upon my brow a brand like that of Cain. I caonot wash it off. Itisa brand of blood—hot, burning blood. I walk among men, and I feel thoy maust see it—it is there. . I pull my hat over my brow—losely, O, so closcly i—down to my eyes. Bat they must seo it. + I wandered to a post, here in the Arizona Mountains. I thought { might rest—only a few dats; I was so tired, Tuoy were all strsogersy and thoy surely would not seo. I sat and talke with tho sargeon, by o tent. I pulled my bLst down—over my face. I kept my eyes turned ta the ground. I would not look at him, lest tha ‘eyes might betray mo. I thought I was safe. I sat and talked. Then, all at once, I knew that the horror had come upon bim, and that he saw. He eaid nothing ; he moved not. Yet I knewthat the brand was laid baro to his eyes. Some powot 1 could not resist compolled mo to look up—ia Imoet, his gaze. 1Iread in bis oyes the horror, #The brand of Cain! Tho brand of Cain! 0 0D, IT 1S UPON ME! For days and days I bave wandered in the “monntains, thirstivg, hungering, trembling at tha stir of & leal, Yet death come3snot to me. The wild beasls avod me. _Tho savages pass e by, sud harm me not. I suller, faint—but do not die. A Lope has come to ms wandering here slone. Strange word!—hope! A hLope, bora of despsir. I will go back. I can not flee fromthe barning eye of God. It searches me out in tha monntaing. 1t glares upon mo in the lonclinecs of tho doesert. Itconsumes me. I will no long- or flee. I will go back—beck where I know the still face ig awaiting me. I will kncel byit; knoel, and lift_my hands to Heaven and prar— pray. Pray him, my murdered fricnd, to forgive ma; ‘pray God t6 look in picy on me! I3 there hope of pardon? Obl it scems to me, evan now, that tho brand upon my forzherd grows dimmer. It seems to me, even me, thvt the bieased thonght comes liko a cooling hand to my fovered brow. Fail mot, O my weary feet,. ntil T reach the side of that slill face; and tLen I will kneel aud pray; pray until pardon comes tome; PARDOF—OR DEATH!” Here the writing is faded and effaced in ths bool: for several pages. I resume ab the poiny whoro it gaiu bocomes legiblo. I would only remark that this portion which I cannot deci- pher, T should judge, from tho length of tima neceseary to travel from the region where the last secms to have been written to the epot indi~ ‘caled in the next portion, must have coversd a eriod of eeveral weeks. Tha record goos ou, Bt very brokenls, . +The end of my <andering draws near. Iam slone in tho desert. In tha distauco I see the Lill, 8o curionsiy olign with tho two higa Lils begond, bohind which I kaow the still face ia waitiog for me. _I como. O, my murdersd friend, pity mol I come. “Tho hot sun poars down upon me. water. My tonguo'is black and bleadi: feal no thirst. My brain is on fire. at, oue thought only possesses me—Lhere is_the place— there, beforo me. RAlany weary miles yot, but there I will pray. My head swims. I can—not 00, “Wheroam I? Ah! now I recollect. I was walking in $ho dsy. It is night now. I must bave sainted. I am Iying in the desert. Tia still moon looks dawn upon me. A strange calm has come over me. The night wind does pot how! at me now—it only kisses my face. Iis Ligs is peace. In the eass the blush of tue _coming dawn reddens the mouniain tops—not red like blood, but softly bright liko_the glocy abont the brow of the pitying Christ. I sm strangely calm. Ah! pow I know—I am dylng— dying. O God, let mo THANK THES AT LEAST FOR DEATH. « Strange! I no longer feel the brand upon mybrow. Isitpgono? Has the morciful God forgiven me?—forgiven, and spared me tha agony of knoelg by that dead face? In tie dim light I can see, milos and miles away, tho hiHs at the foot of which the dead face Les. I now know that my feat shall never go to it. I must have fainted again. The sun hanea just abovo tho mountain crest in the east—uo longer angry, no longer red Like blood. 1ha warm rys touch my brow gently as a mothzr'a kiss. Ism dying. With my last strengih'l write thie, only this more, for s hove of pardon D onlsis hope. O God!—I—thank—Thea!’—0vr- tand Aonlhly. EPITAPHS. E'en s the fowers which dack fhe So1d, Al living thicgs their life must yivld,— Arhes 1o acher, dust to dust s A Cliristixn cal, a siuner wust, Otedient to the Will Dirine, All eartt’y things we must resign,— Must yicld to ezath our I:fe’s briel span: The sinzer must, the Chriatian can. WELDON GOODYZLIAW. —_—— The Children of the Desert. Writiug about the East to the Christian In- telligencer, tho Rev. T. W. Chambers remarka that the people who live in the desert have ai- waya been a favorite subject of romance and poetry, but & very shiort experience is_sutticiest to dwsipate yonthful delusions. The Bedouins, at least euch of them ss aro found botweo Egypt and Palestice, aro of a very prosaic ch acrer. Rude, igoorant, lazy, sud gready, they offer no pointa of attraction. Ono of thc rich~ er eheike, indesd, will impress any belolder ¥ Lis imposing appearente and CONECicus dignie™, but the ordiaary Arabs are destituto alike of grace and strenzth. Theiz clotling is ragge their feet aro cever furnished with shoes, au only occasionzlly with very rade eandels, and their bands and faces ehow very plainly thas water i9 scarce. The Towaras carn a 8cansy Livohhood by burming chazcoal for the Ciiro market, and the Alowi feed a fow flocks of sheep or goats and cuitivate emall patches of grourd, but both are slike iznorazt and caroleas of tte advantages of civilized life. They constantly carry orms if they cen obtsin them. A man whose best gurment i8 &n aatanned sheapskin will wear a 3word, or shouldera gun, or bO. At least two of every threo of the Alewi Lave glusg on their backs flint-lock guus of very long barrel, often i such a condition thata . discharge, however well aimed, would ke mcre dangerous to the man who fires thaa to hum ¥ ho is fired at. These they carry with them eiers- where. Yet thoy are apparently a cheerful, cob= tented race, very much hito the Amernican negi aed in their smplicity, thotghtlessness, and gocd lumor. Thewr usaal food i3 of the humblesy Eind. Wien s sheop was killed in onc encamy ment they eagerly goized upon all the eatrai Shith wera immediacely thrown upon a firs, a: when half cooked, greedily devoured as it th Were tho greatest of Celicacies e bread e areo: dark barloy cake which esen servan: in other 1ands would rejsct. Their mode of e=§ ing s of the same cliaracier,