The New York Herald Newspaper, August 20, 1854, Page 6

wBW PUBLICATIONS. Stren Aoyes, on THe Cartive Nun; A Pro- ‘wan or Convent Live. Rixer, Toorns & Co- —The religious novel is one of the unfairest weapons that can be used in sectarian warfare. Like the cloak of the midnight assassin, it con- ecals its hostile purpose under a fair exterior; fer by veiling its malice in the guise of fiction, it infuses the poison of its bigotry into the mind, without involving itself in the responsi- bility of assertion attaching te works of a grav- vercharacter. We are no admirers of the coa- ventual system; but our objections to it are ‘Based on far different grounds than the sweep- _ img and wholesale charges of tyranny and eruelty that its religions opponents are so fond @ bringing against it. Some foundation there enquestionably is for these imputations, but we believe that it is more traditional than actual, and dates back to periods when all institutions, ecclesiastical as well as political, were in a state of imperfect developement. Cases no doubt still eocar in which in this, as in other systems, au- thority is occasionally abused; but the common sense of all candid and dispassionate minds has Jong since revognised the impossibility of such instances of cruelty as are narrated in the volume before us being practised to any extent im Protestant or even in Catholic countries, without the perpetrators of them being render- ed more frequently amenable to justice. The Yittle support which Mr. Chambers’ motion xm this subject met with in the English Parlia- ment proves that in the minds of the English peo- ple at least there is a growing conviction ofthe falsehood aud exeggeration of most of the charges brought by Exeter Hall faoaties against modirn conveniual institations. The princi- ple on which these establishments are founded is bad enough, heaven kuows, without their en. emies endeavoring to give an artificial coloring to the picture, by drawing on their imagination for facts which have mo foundation except in the inveteracy of their prejudices. Religious matters have too high and solemn an impori- ‘nce to be treated in this way. Besides, trath ean never be propagated by such a broad de- parture from its canons. There is a nataral tendency in the human mind to revolt against injustice, and it is questionable whether publi- cations of this kind do not tend rather to stimulate inquiry and promote a feeling in fa vor of the objects of such gratuitous odium and cfilumny, than to swell the common preju- dices against them. We all remember the sen- | gation caused by the publication of Sue’s “Jaif Errant.” Its immediate result was pre- adicial to the influence of the Catholic priest- hood in France, but it was not long before the pablic began to acknowledge that the picture was grossly overcharged, and since then a re- ligious reaction has set in, which now embraces s larger propertion of the male population ‘than hes as yet bent its knee at the altar at any period since the Goddess of Reason first substi- tuted her lax observances for the strict discip- line of the old faith. Having thought it right in these few observa- tions to guard the unsuspecting reader against the insidious objects of this religious tale, we are bound in fairness to admit that as regards literary smartness, boldness of cenception, and Ingenious casuistry, it is a very remarkable pablication. Had it been less plausible and in- teresting as a story, its purpose would not be go dangerous. As however it is evidently in intended to swell the clond of political preju- @ices that the school and other questions have vaised against the Roman Catholic religion in this country, we deem it but juet towardsa Jarge class of our fellow citizens, to place it in such a light b-fore the public, as that its real purpose will not be mistaken. The following is intended to illustrate the satechistical strictness and severe corporeal Giseipline said to be still practised towards heretical offenders in modern nunneries:— We must now conduct our readers to a subterra- mean apatment, damp and chill, where the lady fuperior and the two priests, wrapt in their warmest envelopes, were seated at asmall table, on which ‘were a crucifix, © missa!, and a lamp; and before which, pele and faint with abstinence, and shiver- ing with cold, bus resolate and courageous in spirit, stood sister Marie. She had been accused of heresy; and sho stood there to give an acconat of her faith—a simple, un- Sutored maiden, unskilled im controversy, umac- ‘qvainted with the Scriptures, except in the few pas: gages which had guided her into the way of salva ion through the working of the bape of Trota. “You bave ceased to venerate the most Holy Vir- gin,’ saiu Father Dennis» ‘I venerate her os_a bdly woman, and as te mo- ther of my Lord,’ replied the nun, ‘but God hss said, “Thou abalt have no other gods but me,” and has forbidden me to worship a graven image. *But the Church bss commanded her to be ador- , ‘Imust obey God rather than man,’ was tie re “God has coremanded Hie Church to be obeyed.’ The run was silent; she felt that God could uot have enjoined obedience to any contradiction of his own wo.d; but she knew not what to auswer. “Do you desy the merit of alms and prayers and «T believe that all good works ought to be done, be- eause God Joves holiness; but I Koow that L can never perform any waich are good enough to merit his favor. 1 long tricd to do so, but I could not.’ *Heresy!’ said Father O'Hooran, “Do you exp to go to heaven through the Merits of the suints?’ asked Father Deonis. “Through the merits of my Lord and Saviour Jesus ‘Christ alone,’ che roplitd, clasping her hands acd looking upward, bore my punisiment; he died for me; aud lsh » for ever with him.’ * More heresy rid heaesy! Then you deny the menis of all the blessed saints, who laid up Stores of grace for poor sinners !” * Phere is in Christ ali { ueed—all grace, all sal- vation, ali glory. I will scek it in none else.’ * A damnable tic! Bot you surely seek the jmtersession of the saints, if not their merits,’ said Pether O' Hoo ‘There is one God, and one Mediator bet God and men, the man Christ Jesus. He do’ Jor me,’ *What say you to infullibility?’ asked Father Denn all ie. * God fa infallible, and bis word is infallible.’ * But to Peter was given the keys of heaven.’ * Perhaps to ; but he will open the gute only as Ohrist bice bim ‘The hoy mern.” Can He who bled and died for me be sterr? oh! no; He js all love, ali meroy, all compassion! I know his love: I feel it in my beart. His namo is Love ; His nature is Love. [ want none bat him. M Christ were stern, what tempted him to be cra- ified? 1t was love that took him to the cross.’ * Do you believe in purgatory ?’ ‘ * Why sbould I, when Jesus did all? Ho paid all my debt ; 1 e left pothing for me to suffer.’ * Are you :@ pure that you need no fire to cleanse ra other softens her Son when he is *No,T am not pure; T ama vile sinner; but it $a the aro:k of the Holy Spirit to sanctify. If Ho eanpot do i, | am sure the devils canaot.” * But K )« 0 tie before you are sanctified 7 #7} shall ‘ar ae toe thief did to whom Jesus said, * Today sha:v thon be with me in paradise.’ «Damnable heresy again! it were a good doed 0 cend thee t@ purgatory forthwith to cure it.’ @é Ifyou Kill ae, Jenus will take my soul into bis everlasting arm? “Though | walk through the valley of the shady of death | wil! fear no evil,” for he will be with me.’ 2 ‘What say you of transubstantiation? said, * This is ioy bodys” : ¢ All that Christ said ntust be true.’ « What say you of confeamon /” ¥ «1 care less about confession to @ priest since I dearned to confess to God ; but i do not know that He bas jen it.’ ¢ Absolution 7” «1 do not need it from man when God has ab ge'ved me; and the priest ofton mistakes fo pro- Christ peitcing i: I baye received absolutiow from man | Mnen Godhad notforgiven me, Bat | think »f evuid | @ me vo harm.” } « Do you belicve in the manet? ) ! not adore Christ's body ?” lore Christ my God ; not a wafer.’ you deny transubstantiation.’ do not know ; I do not understand,’ How dare you then pronounce upon gach sacred s 1 * T know the love of Jesus: I kaow his perfect salvation : I know that be has done all things for me; that he hath saved me by his blood, hath changed my heart by bis Spirit ; ceive me to his glory. ‘Lvia is all I desire to know. ‘This bas givenme safety and heppiness such a3 I never felt before, and joy which must be something like heaven.’ « By all the saints! a heretic worthy of dying by fire, and living in fire for ever !’ « Jesus died for me. I refuse not to die for him. Tt vould be sweet so to prove my love to him.’ ‘ The accursed death of a heretic is not the mar tyrdom that confers merit.’ ‘ T want no merit but that of Christ.’ « Will you pray to the saints 7’ ‘No ; for“ Theu shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve.”’ * Will you confees 7’ ‘Thave no objection.’ * Will you abjure your errors 7” ‘ ‘ I do bot wisn to retain error, I only wish to re- tain Christ my sole hope.’ 5 “If you persist in heresy, you will be demned ! * 1 will cling to Christ aloue, and nothing can se- parate me from his love.’ * He loves none who despise his mother.’ ‘ Ged forbid that I should despise her ; buat I will not worship ber.’ * Well, we shall give you three days to repent. If you continue an obstinate heretic, we must send you to beii-fire.’ : This young convert had little knowledge, but whatehe had was saving. She had muct love, strong faith, ard grace was given her to be consant. In elelemie ha cell she had the presence of her Saviour. We leave the sequel of her story to imagiaations enlightened by the knowledge of Rome’s atrocities. She feared not thoxe who can kill the body, but can- not kill the seul. Whether she died by violence, or wested away in hunger and thirst and cold, we re- veo! vot. We know who bas promised, “ As thy day, so shall thy strength be.” Under the head of “ Clerical Instructions for a Trial by Jury,” we have rather a humorous description of the way in which evidence is got up in the old country, This new count in the indictment, be it observed, must be taken with the same qualification as others: ‘ Ah! Mick Donelly, and wasn't it the cow that grew sick and died when the gossoon was following the soupers, and goin’ to sell bis soulentirely? The blessed St. Pa‘rick wouldn't permit the sin without givin’ ye notice of the consequences. Well, when We get out ov this danger, by the help ov yer ivid- ence, maybe the cow mmy :ome back to ye from the dead. Not by way of payment, ye understand, that would be perjury; but to show that the church— slory be to her!—is a grateful church to her obe- diert boys. You know the way the riot happened; we havin’ refreshed yer memory in the things whica had escaped it.’ . ‘Yes, yer riverence,’ said Mick, pulling a lock of his rhaggy hair, and performing an indescribable movement, intended for a bow. ‘Then, Mick, go over the ividence, that we may be assured of yer maning to tell the thruth, and the whole thruth, ard notbin’ bu’ the thruth.’ Mick rehearsed bis part to admiration, and was duly cauticned to put in nothing ele, lest he should tel! what was not the truth. ‘For how, saiZ the priest, ‘can an ignorant boy like you discern the thruth from fakehood, except by the help ov our wisdom.’ ‘Thrue for you, yer riverence,” gaid Mick— an’ about the cow?’ ‘Iv ye doright, see ivthe blessed saints do not send ber alive by miracle; though maybe not quite like her former self, twice as fat she'll be, havin’ got all the sickness off ber.’ The hair was again ee the exquisitely grace ful bob repeated, and Mick departed, rejoiciug in the prospect of having a cow again. «A cow for a few lies, and they for the glory of the holy mother church !’ he said to himself. ‘ Paddy O'Keefe, re rascal out of purgavory ! do ye now :cmimber all about it; or has the wuiskey teken away your sinses intirely? Was it ve pariso pet; or tue heretic jumper that used the shil- elsh ! * Wt was the jumper, yer riverence.’ * How was itdone? “Spake the words as ye mane to spake them before bis honor.’ ° Paddy obeyed; he spoke the words, giving a ver- sion of the story to the full contentment of the heart of his riverence. ‘Now all ye kave told is the blessed thruth; will ye swear to it?” ‘Sure 1 will, yer rfverence.’ ‘Well, iv ye tell any other story thin than that blessed thruth ye have rehearsed to me, look to the sick bed and the absolution; and’—here he tixed his emell dark twinkling eye on the now trem>ling sin- ner, and lowered his voice—remember the gap the hedge—and the shot—and the blood—and the corpee ! ‘Och, yer riverence! but it’s remember I do; and yer riverence gave me sbsolution intirely.’ ‘For another world, Mick; but not for the court ov justice, or the gallows, ye dog.’ ‘Bure yer riverence.does not mane to peach on me! ‘By St. Dominick, no! if ye behave yerself dis creetly in this matter; but iv any ov the heretics make ye tell another word than this blessed thra'h, yer lile’s not worth that,” said the priest, snapping is fingers. ‘St, Patbrick help we !’ ejaculated the man. ‘To tell the truth as I have brought it to yer membrance, do ye mane?’ ‘Intirely, yer riverence.’ ‘Aye; Mary, mackree! it’s a good girleen ye ave, now that ye have left the Jumpers’ school. Waat was it, again, they promised ye, an’ ye wonld go to their heretic matings, an’ tell lies of the priests; aud brisg into disrepute the holy Catholic church?’ ‘It was, yer reverence, as wuch lace work and koitting apa Eood pay, as would keep my widdy evil and two mails ‘a-day for myself, and a wi: clouk. ‘Thin, when you had told the lies, and forsaken ee chapel, and put your soul in danger, did ye get it ali?” ‘No, ye’r riverence.’ ‘Was it that brought ye back, like a stray law, to the fold of ye’r own blessed church?’ ‘That, an’ ye'r riverence promising me twice a3 much.’ ‘Mind what ye’r saying, machree!’ What I pro- mised ye has nothing to do with the matter at all,at all. It is not about me they need ividence, it's about the soupers, ye understand. To say anything about my promises will spoil ye’r character, machree, and damage ye’r widdy mother.’ ‘Very well, ye'r riverenee.’ ‘There’s a boy that likes you, Mary, machrec! he'll be at the thrial to see how discreet ye are. Say nothing to set him again ye.’ Mary beld down her head, biushed ecarlet, wondered bow the priest knew every thiag. While Father Denis thus practised upon the wit- nesses, father O'Hoeran busied himself with the jary —trose of them who were his clients; the rest, from other parishes, were managed, each by his own priest. This class being a little bigher ia ine } social seale, required to be rather differently dealt wit Rome adapts herself to all grades of socisty, These mew required to be enlightened oa various poins of morality, as these are Jaid down by re- ed Cutholic doctors, especially St. Liguori ; the of a juror, to consider first the honor ofa i church ; thé measnre of faith to be kept wita here- | ties; the power of the church to dispense with } on be, de. 4 ity,” said the reverend father, ‘ may have varions meanings ; it tot moan guilty of the br, wirerecf a man isacensed, or it may mean gnilty in respect of crime. When a man is proved t0 have committed the actions ascribed to him, he may yet be pronounced ‘not guilty,’ if those things be not crimes in the eye ofthe church. If the evideace, in this ease, should prove that the priests did not do things charged upon them, then of course the verdict must be ‘not guilty,’ but if the contrary seem to be proved by successfal malice, still you have ft in hood power to return as not guilty; mean- ing not guilty of any crime; seeing ‘hut hk ia our duty to persécute hesetivs and glorify the church ; and inetead of guilt, it is merit so to do.” ‘The fatber then proceeded to inflame the minds of the jurymen against tee soupers who had brought so much dissension and trouble into the quiet village, Engiish jurymen, proud and independent, need not startle at this. They are free; they have no lords over their consciences. The sons of poor Ireland; aye, and her danghters too, are bound hand and foot by tyrannical priests ; they are slaves in body and souls, in indgment and conscience, in speech and in action. ‘J'be man who depends upon a priest for his salvation must be the stave of the priest ; to disobef bim is to riek everlasting fire. Tn order to eeacon the hook more highly for the claes of readers for whose enlightenment it is intended, the author has infused into it o spice of the melo dramatic. As aicide is @ crime of proverblally rare occurrefes in con- vents, the novelty will no doubt he aevep- table:-— Tie w g wasedick and re and cul ge Agnes.’ in bed, crose- ithed. ‘Be loves z the nun; and if 2 doy that this region is bots fab, contianed Theresa. honrs; I kaow the way—flee together, and be happy. Luther mar- anup. ‘Our vow! Thereea; do not torment me, my brain ides, he never asked me to ‘vow—and the curse !’ ‘Pshaw ! the vow—the curse: waiden’s breath—the blast of a Think you these No, if there be a heaven, there is nothing sq inhu- man in it T am mad, but madnew has made me _wise—loosed the chains of my mind. Popes and abbesees, and priests, are lists all of them; and you and I are victims, Agnes—victime of lies. 1 went to disenthrall you, to make you hap- before I die. 1 will confoss to-morrow to Father Frances. 0, and tell bim to save you; his arm is as strong as hie heart; flee with him, and be his bride when I am in the grave.’ ‘I beseech you, by the Virgin, and all the saints, that you speak not to Father Francesco. Lebalt he degraced in bis eyes forever. And {aul nok flee; I will not riek my satvation for earthly hao pines. *You are a fool!’ exclaimed Theresa passiona‘ely. ‘Promise me, Theresa, that you wil! not.” ‘1 will pot promise. You ate the only person! ever loved, except cre. J must save you.’ ‘Decidedly, Therees, you shall not. I will never more utter @ word to Father Francesco. [ would not flee with him; and he is too holy to ask it. Pro- mise me that you will not speak, or I »hali never be happy again.” a ‘No, poor child, you never will be happy saain,’ said sister Theresa, alteriog her tone. ‘Well, it you refer your pride to your happiness, be it so; I will A as you wish. Good night,’ ‘ She glided from the cell, Agnes would fain have recalled her—but she was gone. Sister rire sat like one entranced; she pondered the fearfal words ehe had heard, until ber own faith gave wey, and she questioned whether to inflict woe upon one’self could be acceptable service to the Creator. The Romish ae are not calculated to produce love to God; even the Saviour is often represented as im- plecable, unti) mollifed by his Motner. She thought of her sufferings, snd her spirit shank from the God who took pleasure in them. Pe-haps, after all, she had been paler & delusion; perhaps religion was a fable. What if Father Franceeco thought so toc—what if he believed the vow to be a nullity? Bat no; there was that about him which proved bis sincerity and bis holinese. Yet Sister Theresa was sincere aJso, sincere in her infidelity. Waoere are truth? ‘hus, one moment she disbelieved—the next she prayed. Ah! bad she but prayed to God, instead of invoking dumb idols who could not hear! The heart of woman was not made for solitude; she must love or die, or be utterly wretched. Trne, there are some, who, like sister Agnes, had bean stript of every eartbly stay—whose beloved ones have fallen by their side like autumn leaves, until their bramch- es have been left bare—who are, happy still. Bat they are those who lifting up the eye to heaven can fruit be in the vine; the labor of olive fail, end the fields shall yicld no meat; the flock shsil be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls; yet will irejoi'e in the Lord, I will oy in the God of my salvation. Thew Lord God is my strength.” They are not empt; hearted; they have ha the deaolgtion of their asus retrieved by the “love of God shed abroad in them | by the Holy Ghost,” they have looked upon One “fairer than the children of men, even abal Bhi lovely;” and the deep yearning of their has been satisfied with beaveniy sympathy—with treavenly communion. True, it is fir this y Rome pretends that she severs the beart earthly love; bat maf at the wrongend. Ths heart may be very te and jet never tarn to heaven, tiva’s way is to establish himecif as Lord, and then the idole of the soul’ falt before his presence. Sister Agnes knew not God ashe is revealed in his word; ehe bad no cousolation when be.cft of all human eupport. ‘The runs assembled in the refectory for dinner, and as they ate, a Popish legend was, a3 usual, read totbem. Bister Tnereea ate little, aud seemed lost in thought. When the meal was ended and the nuns arose to leave the table, she addressed the Abbess, and requested that all would remain a few minutes, then drawing herself up erect and haughti- ly, she said, ‘Listen, Signora, I came hither to «ck ace and holiness; I found violenve avd c- x arned that the religions sre hypovriws there is no God, ne paras , Do hell, na .¢ You havetormented me till I am weary of will be your prisoner no longer. [ demand 1i ‘And I demand obedience, ‘Iknow,’ continued Theresa, ‘that Iam yonr ap- ive; we are barred and bolted in our dooce. 3,— there is none to hear our cry for liberty—bnt—’ and bere ehe turned to sister Agnce—‘ceath breaks bolts. This is my deliverer,’ added, seizing a knife and plunging it into ber bosom. The blood spouted from the wound, and she fell. A simults neous shriek burat from the nurs, some of whom rushed tostanch the wound. It was in vaia, she: hed fainted; sister Agnes supported her bead whiie water was poured on her face, and a napkin closely essed upon her breast. But in a quarter of an jour she had ceased to exist. Sister Theresa was a suicide; no mass was said, no candles were burned for her. Silently they Jaid ber inf unconsecrated ground as they would have laida dog; and then the nuns were harangued pi her crime, by on infidel and 1 bs They were exhorted to go to confessiin, to fast and pray; and @ novena was appointed to clea” the } convent of the crime commitied within its walls, Alter this sister Agnes hada fever, a protracted i fever. Her patience and submission endeare} ber to the infirmarian and nurses; and after her re- covery, in the ssdress of her broken spirit, she was e0 obedient and tractuble, that she recovered the favor of the Abbess, and was eometimes even trusted to attend the novices in their garden walks. She was quite passive, because her beart was broken, e haa neither hope nor wish. In fact, she inking into the grave; an occasional heJlow cough, and a hectic spot upon ber pale cheek va- mistakeably told this tale. But s‘ster Agnes was not destined to linger away in comsumption; her fate 2pproached more rapidly. Easy Nat, 4 Tate or Live inv New York inp Boston, By A. L. Srimsox. Derpy, Park Pracr.—The author of this pleasant and in- structive story has given us acorrect and prac- tical view of the every day life of the great Atlautic cities, differing as widely in its shrewd- ness of observation, power of philosophical ana- lysis and genial humor, from the tawdry, slip- shod, artificial |philanthropy and sentiment of the Five Points school of fiction, as does nature from the afiectations of art. “ Easy Nat” is one of those successtul efferts at the delineation of social peculiarities which at once stamps their author with literary fame. Its charactrs are so trnthfally and vigorously sketehed that whilst we recognise the general fidelity of each to its class, we feel that it is also a carefully studied portrait from individual life. The Yankee, John Herd, and little Scratch Gravel, the newsboy, seem to us familiar acquaint. ances, standing out in as bold and broad relief from the pages of our author, as if they were present to our vision. The moral of the tale is excellent. It illustrates the characters typified in three kinds of youth—the first, a lad of cor- rect principles, industrious habits and correct ambition; the second, a good hearted, casy boy, full of mirth and conviviality, and easily led astray by others; and.the third, a youth preco- cious in vice and in low and degrading indal- gences. Itis unnecessary for us to follow out these several characteristics to their results. Suffice it to cay, that the author has developed them with a skill and felicitousness ef humor which serve all the more forcibly to impress upon the mind the volue of the lessons incul- cated, The following, unhappily, describes rather a familiar phate in the apprentice life of large | citles:—~ Faithful to his promise, Nathan Mndge stopped | at ibe atone on = Way tob es any yes h the fig tree sball not neg eee.) Jath there ae eine, too, in his new friend’s man- ner that to young Mudge was very soning. Boys “Come along, ana Ii] show you.” “But we eball be late home,” said the other. “Not a bit of it. It'aright on our way, and we won't stay more than five minutes. So come along, my darling,” said Tom, ong pation his arm Nathan’s, he pulled him with jocular violence, into a ron down Hanover street. “Tois ix it,” said Laie he guided his com- F) ne ree eee i Tear stairs, at the top of whicb, avery 8 rece tallow candle, ergs eget} man to re- ceive tickets. ‘Pass bim in,” said Tom, with acon- fidential air, to the doorkeeper. “The word,” said the heavy-faced man. “Smelte!” «,"Nough said. Pass in.” As the two apprentices entered the door through which the door! x “passed” them, their olfesto- ries were saluted with a great stench of paint, lamp smeke, and bad breaths. “It is a Thespian thea tre,” whispered Tom to his companion, as he el- bowed bia way through a crowd of boys around the door, ‘I’m & member.” “Down in fropt!” ‘Down in front!” “Heads off!” shouted a number of waspish, treble ag ths persons of the new comers intervened between e. Half bewildered, Nathan looked behind, and by the glare of three seaking lights, saw about a dozen tiere of heads, male female, rising one above another, until the farther one nearly reached the ceiling of the low, narrow room, in wich ttey were crowded. The feet of most of the tawéry-dressed young ladies, rested upon a board extended on its edge across ba room—a fact called the ls consumptive ‘angles, which flared directly behind it, foot lights, eines ition 80 as not to incommode the audience, which, until he increasing irascibility, our ig friend turned his regards to the other side of the bommd, which was the sole division between the spectators and the se, of the stage of a “ ee either side was a stege door, about five feet high and sigireen inches wide, composed princi, of Ly one ‘test named. ig aoe 30 be pre coe 01 ents ofthe setablishment. iced equally well for sc3ne frames, fences and cheeks and castle, as for “human gore”—and Mer rimack cotton was literally a synonome for sep curtains, scenery, banners, togas, and coats of phisticated eye, to be a number of pieces of cotton cloth, nae with waves of green paint, and ex- tending from the floor to the ceiling, on either side, nd barnt-cork coun‘enances, and a female with a blanket shawl, and a book in her hand, was ae sn unusual nuwber ot chimneys. This scene, Tom whispe. ed to his friend, represented a wood and a castle. In front of the “castle,” ina faded red uni- was a considerabic hiatue--and on little head a bell-crown leather cap, out of which rose a perpen- dicular red and white plume, there was marchiog a seemed tobe made of ehae e this indivia- ual had silently traversed his confined promenade until the audience began to shout, rather invidious- ed impatiently, ‘‘stuge waite!” and a momeat after anotber young gentleman came on, evidently in a burry. He wore a Merrimac shirt, trimmed with elucidating to Natban’s mind wh; did so eontinued to shout “down in front!” with performance. It was humble, a ane imi- and Merrimac sheeting. weapons—redding served as well ae anger The present scene appeared, to Nathan’s unso- pr chap ling Mor) out of which several flaming ee foodies a ete Kian wie black windows and form coat between which and his pantaloons there poms, map, 80 slim in person like his spear, ly, “ Go it, legs!” a voice behind the scenes exclain yellow ribbon, beneath a faded camlet cloak, and upon bia legs and face several cents’ worth of the great staple color of the it. “This play is Pizarro,” whispered Tom to his companion. “That feller in the cloak is Roila; tother is the old Castilian.” “Who is the woman with the tarban on, and the book in her hand?” inquired Nathan. “Oh, she isn’t on!’ replied Tom. “She is the prompter, Sam Suifie. He plays Elvira tonight. ‘We will not attempt toc ibe the acting. Lin- guage would fail to do it justice, and we can only Bay that it was e to the splendid ta, Natban Mudge, who knew nothing before of theatri- cal entertainments, except by description, was 80 well pleased with the pertucaniona, that it was not unti) Rolla (who was neither more nor less than Bob Chisel) bad died in his own gore—or, rather redding— and the cotton curtain fallen upon his convulsive ae pe (a8 it would have done upou himeelf, if he had not dodgéd), that he was remind: ed how late it was. Before he would accompany him home, Tom Braxton must needs strut to the stage door aod equeeze through, thereby exciting the envy of the spectators at bis superior privileges. ‘After a lopre of two or three minutes, wich seemed an age to the impatint Natban, who feared the displeasure of bis master at the lateness of his return, he was j ired by Broxton, and together they proceeded y+pidly home. On their way they ascertained that i) was nearly half past ten. Nathan expressed fears, at which his companion Janghed. When they reached the house, they saw through the parlor window Edwin Fairbanks read- ing, and Giles Godwin sitting by the fire. ‘He is sittin’ up for us,” said Nat in 9 whisper, as they pe into the window. “We'll slip into the door, and up without his hearing us,” said Tom, over the walk. “T wouldn't,” said ‘Nat, ‘it looks sneaky.” simed Tom, eevishly, “come “Pebaw!” ex along, it’s a good joke. What a fraid-cat! As usual, Nathan yielded, and the two boys crept cautiously through the door, and up stairs. In two minutes more they were undressed and in bed. Hardly was this the cese, when they heard tne voice of their master issuing from the entry. “Ts it poraible that those boys have not come? Are you sure, Edwin, that they are not in bed?” “They may be, sir,’ said Edwin, who wished that it might be the case, but feared lest he should be sept to see. “Nathon!” said old Giles; with his hand on the balveter, and his face turned in the boys’ room. itt Bek noanswer. He calledagain, and louder, “Nathan!” . " anawered Tom, ina sleepy tone. “Why, they are in, Edwin!” exclaimed the old man in surprise scarcely lees than that of his senior apprentice. “Ase they both in?” inquired Giles. “ Are you in Nat?” said Tom, yawning. “Yes, sir,” he con- tinued, ‘‘we have heen asleep this two hours!” “I om glad of it!” “said the old man to himself, as he raked up the fire very carefully, and lighted a candle. “Come, Edwin, let’s fo to bed. We'll make something of that lad yet. Na Morv, on Reer Rovines 1s roe Sovra Seas. Pupyey & Resser.—Mr. Perkins, tle author of this amusing and interesting volume, isa sailor, but a sailor with more than the usual amount of mental cultivation that is to be fonnd in our merchant service. The sketches of which this volume is composed were written, as he bimself states, “to beguile the monotony of an existence between sky and ocean ; but although his body may have been condemned to inactivity, it is evident that the mind of the writer was of that active and restless class which would always cut out oceupation for it- relf. Although professing to be merely a nar- rative of personal adventures, Mr, Petkins gives nea great deat of valuable and well digested information with regard to the present con- dition and resourge’s of the Polyn+ sian Islands, and bis work is a nsefal contribution to oar atcek of knowledge on these enhjects ot a time whip ibe progre ( fusionists possersed the greatest confidence in a to give us s direct and peternsl interest in their and materiel welfare. Srrep’s Frexce any Exouse Dicrionany.— Edited by L. Jewett. F. J. Buntington & Ma- son Brothers.—This is an admirably arranged school edition of Mr. Spier’s a gay Pio “Br a variety of judicious additions ai improve- ments which tend greatly to facilitate the 1a- bors of the beginner, and will no doubt substi- tute all those at present in use in educational establishments. Tur Lonpox QuarTeRLy Review: American edition. Leona, Scorr &Co., Fulton street.— ‘The July number of this valuable re-print con- tains some excellent papers. The article on the House of Commons will be interesting to the American reader, inasmuch as it lays bare the arcana of legislative wire-pullings in the Old Country, and makes him familiar with the mental and personal peculiarities of many of the English politicians who are at present only known to him by name. From an interesting | article on the Electric Telegraph, we extract | the following curious instances of its applica- | tion:— We have yet, however, to notice the special tele blo communication ‘which existe in the metro- short inter Ape ity i Lak up” and oa, being made e ake as 5 This flying sheet is half-hourly to the fol- lowing clubs and e ta— Arthur s; - ion; Oxford and ; Brooke’s; Conserva- tive; United Service; Athenwzam; Helo’ a veller’s; United Univer ;. Union; and te’s. Hourly to Boodle’s Club Prince’s Clab; ani half hourly to the Lp Italian’ Opera. The shortest je abstract is of course supplied, sufficient fact to enable the after dinner M.P. 80 to e-ono- mize his and yet be to connt in | The wire to the Opera is a still more curious ex- | ample of the social services the rew power is | destized to perform. An abstract of the proceedings of Parliament similar to the above, but iu writing, | is posted during the performance in the lobby, ‘and | Young England has ouly to deans out between the acts to know if Disraeli or Lord John Russell is up, and whether he may sit out the piece, or must hasten down to Westminster. The 0; lonse even com- municates with the Strand ice, 80 that messages may be sent from thence to all parts of the kingdom. Briackwoon’s Macazine.—American edition - Leonarp Scorr & Co.—The August number of | Old Ebony is more than usually interesting. It opens with an ably written comparative’ notice of the history of the Greek Revolution, now publishing by Mr. Tricoupi, the Greek Minister at the Court of London, and the account given | of it by sir Archibald Allison in his History of Europe. The reviewer considers that Mr. Tri- | coupi’s book furnishes convincing evidence that the language of Aristotle and Plato still sur- | vives in a state of the most perfect purity, the materials of which it is composed being genuine | Greek, and the main differense between the | styles of Tricoupi and Xenophon consisting in | the logs of a few superfluous verbal inflexions, and the adoption of one or more syntactical forms to compensate for the loss. The articles on the Ethnology of Europe, and “ Conservative | Reascendancy Considered ”’ are also deserving | of attention. Our Saratoga Correspondence. Saratoga Srrines, August 17,1854. Anti-Nebraska Convention—Seward Whigs in the Ascendant—The Abolitionists No- where—No Ticket—But all to Vote the Whig Ticket. As all other things occupy a brief hour, and then pass into faturity, so with the Saratoga anti-Nebraska State convention; ithas had its day, and has become simply a matter of histo- Ty. It will be recollected that the project was firat conceived of holdiag such a meeting, by a few individuals in the city of Albany, on the 23d of March last. It was there proposed to hold the convention in that city. On confer- ring with the “executive committee of the city of New York,” the place was altered to Sara- toga Springs, and the time, the middle of Au- coding 94 $0 Ws Onis te Kash his chet Fe in time the ministerial statement, or the division. gust, agreed upon. The intense excite- ment which then existed in relation to the action of Congress, in pass ing a law establishing the Territories of Nebraska and Kansas, awakened the people. It was a god-send to all the abolitionists, free soilers, and sectionalists in the entire North, whose “occupation” was almost “ gone,”’ on account of the absence or settlement of all ele- ments incident to their propensity for mischief. For a while the abolitionists guided the affair as they wished, and being banded with the free soilers, began to make preparations, and confer tegether as to the course to be pursaed, which would most likely enure to their benefit | at the Saratoga gathering. They declared themeelves absolved from all the old party ties and obligations, as both and whig and democrat had tamely succumbed to the dic- tates of the slave power—the one whose Presi- dent had approved and signed the Fugitive Slave law, of 1850, the other, who endorsed the Nebraska “ outrage,” including the uncondi- tional repeal of the Missouri compromise of 1820; therefore a necessity exieted, and the time had fully arrived for the formation of a new party, and the nomination of a State ticket, to be com- pesed of men of all present parties who sym- panes in this Northern feeling. And as the Seratoga convention was called for the “re- covery of the rights of the free States as an in- tegral part of the Union,” and for the “rescue of the general government from the control ef the slave power,” it was proper and opportune that a new party should be formed, to correct thore and other evils, which neither of the pre- sent parties would ever accomplish. The fact tbat a ticket was to be furmed at Saratoga, created no alarm emongst any but ihe woolly Seward ig The bunkers bad their candi- | dates early in the field; the softs holding office under the national administration, knew they were secure until 1857, and neither seemed to | be at ali nettled concerning the action at Sara- toga. The silver graye kept entirely aloof, and only declared the whig party of the State and nation scattered and demolished if a ticket was made by the anti-Nebraska gathering. Up | to the moment the question was taken upon the subject, the abolitionists, free soilers, and the ascurance that a State ticket would be adopted on the 16th or 17th days of August. Yesterday, at two o'clock, a large number of delegates, some two hundred an fifty, out of fifteen hundred chosen, assembled. They were mostly fresh from their constituents, and brought sentiments in favor ofa nomination. The meet- ing was called to order by Joseph Blunt,a Seward se rt & H rf upon The number he ner, the officiate resolutions to be submitted and the convention. Henry J..Raymond and Hi Barney said they were just the thing. T: Clowes and Skinner seconded the tion, Wm. J. Cornwall shouted smen, and M. Burrou, stood mute with astonishme’ Gen. Bullard and Judge Snow protested on \ rious points; some were, that the resolutic contamed nothing in re to the repeal Miscoutl compromise, cbolishing slavery 1 cr y ishin; wery i | district ie Ccuatie nor the oetndaion oO distinct State ticket. Both these latter gen taining 1 thi ‘ nies i eet f taining nothing e people expec this convention, both declared: that th) would each submit minority reporta, The mojority of the committee, purposely se by John A. King, hooted them down, Raymo' asserting that whatever there two might do convention should not be considered as e ting from a minority of the committce, a8 fhdividual members of the convention. The confusion which prevailed and the ai} culty that occurred in carrying out the wh programme during the morning session, induc) the managers to clear the room previous to t! opening of the afternoon session, and then a mit none but actual and bona fide delegate Along time was consumed in this matter, on a count of the large crowd of outsiders who bh» gathered, learning that the convention was be a whig sffair, instead of a meeting for tl “recovery of the rights of the free States as integrel part of the Union;” and, also, on, a count of an anticipated row, because Greeley! committe on’ resolutions intended to preve! the convention from making any nominatior By the time the delegates were fair, seated the convention re-assembled, ai Greeley-had finished reading his resoluti General Bullard, s member of the cot Hy seport to present, favtantancoualy sho ity rey to present ui a of BA aude hall, (No, no,) from ever quarter, “ Greeley’s resolutions are all right ; 0 we want, we want no substitutes, more. Burtah ! hurrah ’—with »: vi Eee of hands, swinging of hats, e Gent Peed firm and undismsyed amid this riotoy turmoil, occasionally cee ren to » but we often hissed down. ly, find him ut moved, the President announced ‘that get ' tleman was entitled to his right’ to be hearc when General B proceeded to it his pla form, conclading with a resolution that th convention would forthwith to nom nate a State ticket irrespective of political cor sicerations. This was responded to with yell: cheers, hisses, indignant beilowings, which cor tinued until the riotous audience became them felves disgusted with their own conduc; The efforts of the chair were anavailing, an he abandoned the attempt to restore erder though it was easily perceived that the presid ing officer haere with Greeley’s and Ray) mond’s whig rioters. Then Judge Snow another of the committee, undertook ta maki Pie rats peas differing in some minor poiai from Greeley’s. He was also hissed aud abused with savage ferocity. His several attempts tc speak were overburthened by the yellings anc ttempings in the room. Raymond appeared and immediate silence was observed. He re marked that the convention must not take anything coming from either Gen. Ballard o1 Judge Snow as from the committee at all, for there was nothing which that committee pre. sented but theGreeley resolutions. Upon this vociferous cheers were uttered. » Red- dington, of St. Lawrence, also attempted to advocate the necessity and .impor- tance of a ticket, but he was choked down as fast and often as he rose upon his feet. Several others undertook to advocate the pro- riety of a ticket, but all were hissed down. ofeseor Fowler, of Poughkeepsie, read a reso- lution in relation to forcigners, which the pre- sident did not condescend to put-to a vote. The professor was quite indignant at this disrespect to himeelf, and threatened to make an exposure of the matter to the Know Nothings. When- ever Greeley or Raymond desired to speak the convention was silent and orderly, but when either of the abolitionists or free soilers sprang upon their feet, they were immediately met with tumult. and hisses, and not allowed to Ran 7 5 ¢ whigs have played the game very skill- Seward and Greeley were closeted seve- ral days at the Springs previous to the conven- tion. The result is as they wanted itshould be, viz., turning this anti-Nebraska meeting to whig account, It remains to be seen whether the abolitionists are further to be hoodwinked, and drawn into the support of the whig ticket. The Wind and Water Gap=Pennsylvania Germans. [Correspondence of the Albany Journal.] Decawane Waren Gar, July 30, 1854. There is a fine view of the “ Blue Mountain” range of Pennsylvania, as you come down one of the hills between h&e and Belvidere, Unlike the yest of the chain, (the Alleghanies, Highlands, C .ts- kill, &c.,) it is nota snocession of peaks and val- leys, but one straight, solid, even mountain, like huge bar Jaid across the State, to cus off commu- nication between the eastern aud westera carta, Directly in front of you, however, there is a large notch cut in it. This notch is £0 square, and 80 artificial looking, that you would certaizly pro- nounce ita passage-way cut for a railroad or a ca- nal, if it was not on such a gigantic scale. But it was there long before railroads and canals were invented. . It ss what the people here call the Water Gap. Off to the southwest, abont fifteen miles, you can fee another rimiler notch, looking enough like thig to be often mistaken for it. Toat is the Wind Gap. There two singular passes sre unlike any thing in our State, The Delaware River rung threugh the Water Gap. Nothing in particular comes through the Wind Gap but stiff nor’westers and the Wilkesbarre Turnipike. As you enter the Gap, by the road which winds aleng the Pennsylvania ide of the river, you find the mountains each eide are nearly petpendicolar. They are 1,600 feet in height, or nearly $wo thirds pe bea of the Ca! aoe a seetosaree is no point from which eo extensive @ prospect can be commanded as fom Catakill, but the. sconery in of the river, pick below you, but the bank is so precipitons that you whig, who placed in the chair John A. King, another Seward whig, and son of the cele- brated Rufus King. Rensselaer Havens, Sew- ard whig and abolitionist, hoped the proceed- ings would be opened with er; James A. Sackett, Seward whig, moved a committee on permanent organization, and Horace Greeley one on resolutions, The abolitionists and free soilers, whocame in good faith from the rural dis- tricts, were struck completely dumb founded at whis lead, thus taken by the strongest party men | in the State, and those, too, of Seward sec- | tion. Joshua Leavitt.Gen. Bullard, ex-Senator Johnson, ex-Senator Williams, Mr. Jobn Snow, | © oF events seems likely | ef Madison, Mr. Pierce of Oneida, Professor | But to our Lg on coming ont of t! can rarely get & glimpse of the workmen by looking over. : The distance throngh the Gap fs about two miles. On a bluff, near the northwestern entrance to it, is & hotel, which, at this season, is a placeof con- riderable zesort from Philadelphia and New York. There were numbers of carriages standing about the doors as we came by, and the piazzas were filled, apparently with fastionable people. Not belongiag to that class, however, we passed on, It was evening when we entered tho eastern end of the Gap. The sun had gone down bebind the mountairs, and the new moou was shining brightly. western erd, half an hour afterwards, we found ourseives again in the sunshine, end we hed an hour of Light yet before us, which enabled us to