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M SSS -s. ' : - v " - L T 7- ... . _ <sZ ''<"»*■ iL Ak ikXA JI //I 11 a . JLJ a jIL j\l I '-Z/W. I II II I I I II II II II 0 I II VOL. 7. NO. 15. DAWN. BY MISS FRANCIS W. D. BRUCE Lovely she wakes as from Elysian bow’rs, Some goddess fair dawned on our mortal sight; Lovely she wakes as on a throne of flow’rs, Celestial form in glory’s robes bedight; O'er nature’s quiet in full grandeur breaking, The eastern skies in floods of brightness laking. While like a vanquished Queen the dim night ybddeth, Till the last star withdraws its timid glances; And morn the victors sceptre proudly wieldeth, As on triumphal car she slow advances ; The earth and air with roseate hues caressing, Seeming to breathe o'er all a whispered blessing. The sparkling beauty of her light distilling, O’er all the world in floods of amber streaming. The void of space with flames of glory filling, While in the East the gorgeous clouds are gleaming ; Ay ’t were forgiving heav’ns resplendent portals, Inviting oped to us repentant mortals. Seeming to bear to all a holy greeting, From the immortal, the ethereal band ; The thoughtful skies in robes of splendor sheeting, Ai ’twere reflections from that better land; Our truant hearts from this dark earth to win Unto that world where never entereth sin. r j he Tyrian dyes like Seraph wings outspreading, O’er the deep quiet of the heavenly plain; Now far and near their changeful glances shed ding, And pouring to earth like gems of golden ram; Till the dazzling Monarch of the day ascends, And with her light his fiery shafting blends. HARRffiT JEFSON, THE MANCHESTER. COTTON SPINNER. A SKETCH OF LIFE IN S*HI! BJMGIiXSH TACTOB-ISS, IN SIX CHAPTERS. CHAPTER 111. The melancholy with which wo sometimes contemplate a triumph, is equal to the cha grin with which wc look back upon defeat. Our evil passions are called into action, draw ing forth the evil passions of others; and those, perchance, individuals who may at one time have shared our respect, or enchained our affections. Hence we learn to regret the encounter, and the causes which led to it, and find our victory lessened by the loss of friends, and the creation of new enemies. Thus Harriet Jeffson, though conscious of having triumphed over her seducer, or hus band, as she resolved henceforth to call him, was conscious of a corroding pain at heart, and after she had left him subdued and in mental agony, a lowering and sickening of spirits which detracted from the greatness of her triumph, and proved how pungent are the pains of victory, sunk her ss it were to the earth. She felt how terrible it was to hate, and to hate the object of her former love. She felt that by nature she was form ed for love, and softness, and submission, — for drawing forth admiration, commanding respect, and when melted by its proper ob ject, for pouring forth her whole soul at the shrine and upon the altar of affection,—and now that she had forsaken her proper nature, drowned every yearning of affection in her I eart with gall and bitterness, and assumed the character of the avenging amazon, charg ed with u mission of destruction, she felt truly the depth of her humiliation, and the terrible nature of the work she had shaped out for herself. Could she have wept, her brain would have been less charged with fire, her burning temples have throbbed less fiercely, and her eyes have shone with lees unnatural lustre. But tears never came to her relief, and the intense action of her mind, producing a species of frenzy, threatened to shatter its clay tenement, or else to become itself a wreck, more terrible in its desola tion, than the earthly ruin could possibly do. But her ruin and the depth of degradation into which she was innocently plunged by the base, the monstrous fraud of Richards and his accomplices, was constantly before her : and in vain she had endeavored to op pose the transformation of her nature, which had gradually been taking place. Every circumstance that' might possibly mitigate the atrocity of the man she had loved she had carefully and anxiously balanced, and found them to weigh less than a feather in the scale against the world of his iniquities And when his old friend, —yes, his friend, who knew of her retreat in the environs of London, announced to her by letter his ac tual marriage to Frances Burslew, the last remains of affection for him, which lingered as if loth to leave the altar of her heart, for sook it for ever, and left it a prey to the de mons of hate and despair. Then it was that she left the abode of quiet she had chosen and re turned to the scene of her former love and unutterable anguish, and took up her abode, as being less open, than most parts, to obser vation ia that resort of filth and misery, mis named “Gibraltar.” Thus, a prey to the most corrosive of all the passions, and yet preserving unsullied amidst the ruins of her fair fame, that vir tue, to subdue and blight, which Richards had vainly but perseveringly striven, until by fraudulent and villanous stratagem he dt last succeeded. When she first came to Manchester, her friends knew of her resi dence and regularly corresponded with her : and even after the marriage, which she was afterwards taught to believe false, and when frequent letters passed between them, she even then, to satisfy the scruples of her hus band, preserved the marriage an inviolable secret. After the fatal truth came out, and she found herself the victim of a fiendish plot, all correspondence ceased —the blighted flower resolved to blush in secret and shed her tears unseen. Thus she was now alone in the world, the foot ball of destiny. The low region termed Gibraltar, where taken up her abode, anxious to avoid any inquiries of friends, should any turn up—placed in a deep hollow immediately under Ducie Brigete, and bor dering that pestiential stream or puddle called the Irk, as it rolls charged with the refuse of dye-works, tanneries, and manu factories, into the Irwell, is one of those into which sanitory reform has scarcely pene trated, and where, in truth, sanatory meas ures can effect little good until the delapi dated buildings are removed. The stench and steam from the Irk, ascending the bank, hover over the cluster of pauper dwellings and lodging houses, and even rush with every breath of wind through the covered passages and up the flights of steps into Long Mitigate. The interior of the houses are in many respects on a par with the exterior region, and wretched beyond description. The house where Harriet lodged, was in every respect the best in this place, whether as regarded cleanliness or furniture. The people—fringe-weavers—were respectable for the neighborhood, and had some innate notion of modesty and virtue ; and as they showed every respect for their lodgers, when well conducted, a considerable degree of personal comfort, all things being considered, was realized.' The crowding of beds in the chambers was the greatest drawnback to health, but as this could not be avoided, no objections were made by its denizens. “ So you have again returned, Miss Bea ver,” for that was the name they knew Harriet by, “ and I hope you feel better for your walk,” said the mistress of the house, a plain and modest-featured woman. “ My head aches more severely, and my heart throbs more fiercely than ever,” re plied Harriet, calmly. “Ah ! indeed,” pursued the woman. “ I see by your eyes that your head must ache —why, they are really blood-shot.” •“ Why should you wonder, my good wo man i” Truly, Miss Beaver, I need not,” an swered the dame ; “ I know what head-aches are myself.” “But you probably never knew what it was to have a burning brain and a tearless eye!” said Harriet, throwing herself me cnanioally upon a chair, and her bonnet on an adjoining bed, while the heart sepmed as if threatening to break with every strong excited pulsation. “ Goodness me, no !” exclaimed the little woman with a stare. “ I could always cry when I was grieved; and that, you know, relieved me. Try to cry, Miss Beaver, if you are distressed. Do so, indeed.” “ Think you not there are griefs, as well as thoughts, that lie too deep for tears!” in quired Harriet. “ I don’t know,” replied the woman; “ my tears have been always ready enough, I know.” “ But my tears have flowed until the well is dried up. The very fountain is parched, and the heart that once could melt has be come a scorched wilderness. Am I not a withered tree, struck with the lightning of the affections!” “ Goodness me, how you do talk, Miss Bea ver I I am sure ” “ Hold ! Mrs. Sloman,” cried Harriet, ris ing from her clear, and wildly confronting her landlady. “ Call me no more Miss Bea ver ; that is only for a particular reason as sumed. My name is Harriet Jeffson—or, if you please, Mrs. Richards; the first my mai den name, the second, that of my husband ! I am a widow, with a living husband! My only child is in its grave; and I am alone, and my heart is steel.” “ What do you say ? Well, how strange ! Do you know, then, Miss Jeffson, if so please you,” cried the little woman, with uplifted hands, “ that just after you had gone out this morning a youngish gentleman camo here asking for a Miss Jeffson; but I told him you know, that no Miss Jeffson lodged here. He described her appearance, too; and it was so like you. But I said that my only lodger was Miss Harriet Beaver, and said he enould return and see.” Here was a new theme for wonder, and Harriet gazed intensely into the eyes of her landlady, who calmly met her gaze, and said “ Bless me, how you look ! Can you not be lieve me! ’ “ I can and do, Mr. Sloman. Do you know the man ?” “ Me, my heart! no : I ne’er saw him be fore,” answered Mrs Sloman. “ But his appearance, my friend ! ’ “ Very like yourself, Miss Jeffson—with black hair and whiskers, only taller than you, though you be tall,” was Mrs. Sloman's reply. “ Heaven help me, Mrs.’Sloman,” exclaim ed Harriet, sinking as if exhausted upon the bed, “it is my brother! 0 that my head was crushed, and my broken heart still in death ! For what further trials am I reserv ed ! . Merciful God! “Well to be sure how you do take on, Miss Harriet,”, cried Mrs. Sloman, sitting down beside her: then starting up again and lookingout, she exclaimed, “ Andgracioue me if there be not the same coming directly down the brnk.” Harriet sprung from the bed, and looking in the direction that Mrs. Sloman pointed out, saw, in reality, her brother approaching. But the sight itself, and the knowledge of an interview with him being certain, affected her less than the bare anticipation of it had done when she merely suspected that it was he who had been inquiring after her. Re coiling a few steps back into the house, she calmly, and with apparent humility, stood awaiting bis approach. Merely adjusting her dress and throwing back the raven tress es which half covered her countenance, and hid its now pale but transcendent loveliness, was all the preparation she had time to make, before he darkened the doorway and gaz’d upon her. Half melted into the woman, he felt his eyes moist; and she, forgetting for a time the Roman sternness of her assumed character, felt at once the fountain of her rears unsealed, and they gushing forth, and half shrieking, “ Charles !” she rushed into his arms. Mrs. Sloman, with a prudence rarely evinc ed by the denizens of such neighborhoods, for a short time left the house, to enable them all the better, as she observed, “ to say their say,” and explain to each other matters which it was evident required explanation. It is needless to say, that, after the first burst of their mingled sorrow and gladness was over, and the frenzied fire burning in Harri et’s brain and shooting from her eyes was partially quenched by the tears which she shed, Harriet, at her brother’s request, gave him a full unvarnished statement of all the events that had occurred to herself from the period of her leaving home until they now met. “Had you own dear relatives into your confidence,” her brother observed, but in a tone of soothing consolation, “those occurrences which must cloud your whole after existence on earth might have been avoided.” ‘ ‘I acted from prudential motives, Charles,” she calmly replied. “ I believed him true, and I so acted at his desire.” “ But still, my dear sister,” pursued her brother, with a smile, as if to assure her of his love, “ does it not appear to you as if all that has come upon you —and I speak not to reproach you, for I trust you are indeed in nocent of voluntary guilt—had befallen you as a retribution for the want, er let me say, the oversight, of that guarded prudence which is in many respects the safeguard of youi 1 sex—l mean the placing of such impli cit belief in his avowed truthfulness of affec tion for you, and his sudden offer of marriage after so endeavoring to entrap you in his snares, and in that way accomplishing your ruin!” As he spoke the carnation and the lily al ternately changed on his sister’s counte nance ; and after pausing for a moment when he had done, she said, “ Weakness, Charles, may sometimes appear to be guilt, or at least may be confounded with it. In the matter of Henry, I again tell you, I acted from mo tives of prudence. After resisting his im portunities long, and, as I thought, certain that he loved me, I consented to become hie wife. With his proposals I could not at once agree—l was suspicious of the lurking ser pent, but after frequent repetition and being constantly urged, I consented; and my pro mise to keep the marriage for a certain pe riod a secret, I could not lightly break. If I hava beew Imprudcxx!, I Luvo “ Severely you have suffered, indeed, Har riet,” her brother resumed ; “ but pardon me when I say, that after he cast you off, like a blighted weed, had you returned to the bosom of your family, and laid your grievances before them, the stain which many may believe to rest upon your charac ter would never have been fixed so deeply there.” “ And who,” she cried, rising up and as suming her most commanding attitude, while the color again flushed deeply on her cheek and neck, “ can affix any immoral stain upon my character ?” ‘ I know not, indeed, Harriet,” her bro ther calmly replied, “ who either has done or may do so ; but you must be aware of the fact, that your first living with him ss a hus band, and then your being separated from him and living upon his bounty and at a dis tance, and then your latterly returning to the neighborhood of his abode, and shelter ing yourself in such a region as I now find you in, a favorable impression can scarcely be made upon those aware of only a part of the circumstances. Such, however, is the light in which some may view it.”" Harriet’s cheeks were again made the channels of a fresh gush of tears, and casting an imploring glance in the face of her bro ther, she asked, “ And is that the view which my brother himself takes of my con duct ?” “God forbid, Harriet —God forbid!” he exclaimed, pained to the heart as he saw the construction which she put upon his words. “ I spoke not of myself, but of. others who knew you not, and the spirit that animates you.” “ Charles, my brother Charles,” she cried, emphatically, “ here before you I stand a miserable, heart-broken woman. By the false promises and machinations of one man I was deluded; through him I became a mo ther, and by him I was cruelly forsaken when my hopes of happiness were highest, and my prospects brightest; but before God and his angels I can swear, that, apart from that man, my virtue has never been sullied. — Through him my heart has been steeled against the sex; anti to myself I have sworn that I leave not off tormenting and reveng ing myself upon him until I have exposed him fairly to the world, and society hunts him from its pale for ever.” Her brother gazed upon her with astonish ment. He knew her strength and vigor of mind, and the warmth and tenacity with which she would pursue any cherished ob ject; bitt, he was unprepared to hear, from Her own lips, that she harbored such de signs, and would pursue them with such an ardor of passion as she had done and appear ed to do. “ Harriet,” he said, “ this is wrong. Pur sue him yourself no further, but leave him to me, and I shall pursue him and draw a punishment upon him more severe than you can inflict. Return, Harriet, to our home— to our old hall and estate, again restored to us (Harriet started), yes, restored to us ! Your father yearns for you; your mother will sooth your sorrows ; and your sister and brothers will enable you to forget the evils that are past, and the griefs that will then have been quenched in love.” Harriet, hiding her face on his neck, a gain lifted up her voice and wept. Long time had elapsed since she had enjoyed such a luxury of tears, and she was softened. How much milder and sweeter beamed her eye, and how much calmer her whole coun tenance, so deeply convulsed with the storms within! Still the spirit of vengeance glowed in her bosom; and in vain her brother urged her to forsake her wild pursuit of invoking vengeance upon him whom she called her husband. She would not wait the law’s de lay ; she would forestall it in making him miserable, even though she involved his wife in the misery, as that wife, though innocent filled the place which she had filled, and should have continued to fill till death. In his own house she had met him and warned him; and before his wife and in his own house she would meet him again and expose his villany, and then cast round him the meshes of the law. When strangling in its folds, she would rest contented ; but not till then! Was this what is termed a Christian spirit!—No. Was she ruined in a Christian spirit!—-No. She would act upon the retal iative principle, and nothing less. But here one grave question arose and was discussed between them, and the settle ment of which, by proper inquiry would de terwine a point of paramount importance. Was it in reality a different village, and not Gretna Green, where the said marriage had been solemnized; and was it a disguised ostler, and not the real legal functionary of that celebrated village who performed the marriage service ? Harriet knew not; but Richards and his friends had told her so and laughed her to scorn when explaining the fatce, as they termed it. But Harriet had the marriage certificate dated “Gretna Green,” with the current date of day, and month, and year! “And now,” said her brother, somewhat lighter of heart—his lightness transmitting its influence into that of Harriet—“let me trace this clue through its labyrinths, and I may yet make the villain cross the seas. Come, Harriet, take my arm, and we shall walk the streets of Manchester together. Yowcanthen show me Richard’s factory, and 1 shall go and confront its master.” Harriet, changing her dress, and appa rently her spirits—and the be iming light of her countenance for a still serener glow and more cheerful smile—took her brother’s arm and departed on their way to Great Ancoat’s Street; taking a circuit by Market Street and Oldham Street Mr. Richards was in the factory chatting with Mary Pellat in the throstle-room. Messrs. Grease well and Inkman were in the counting house together. At noon, and when at dinner, Mr. Greasewell, for some reason best known to himself, had doffed his week day garb and put on his Sunday suit. He was any thing but an old man; and yet lie was anything but young-looking. He appeared at middle age to be one of those who never pass a certain age, and were nev er known to have looked much younger. It may possibly have been that his solemn grunting mode of speech, and the custom adopted by some of the “brethren” of whose club of religious society he was a worthy member, of smoothing the hair of his head straight over the brow as if by the imparted heat to hatch new ideas—it may have been this or a combination of such causes, that induced all who knew him to associate with him the idea of old age, when in truth he had not reached forty. Be that as it may, he had been to visit his lawyer, about an immediate sale of property, had been seen to talk seriously, and no doubt fraternally, with Mary Pellat, as she crossed the mill yard ; and now being in a deep study over some fractional calculations, and the last Liverpool Circular of Cotton Prices and Sales he at last said rather bitterly, as if really puzzled, “Verily, and of a truth, Mr. Ink man, I think this perpetual calculation is a weariness to the flesh.” “Ay, and the spirit, too,” observed Ink man with a knowing look; “when one is thinking of other subjects, you know.” “You speak truth, my friend ; ah, I wish I could say brother ,” returned the smooth browed Greasewell with a twitch of the left eye. “But lam a single-minded individual, Mr. Inkman—very single-minded; and man and boy have been in the counting-house of the elder and younger Mr. Richards for four and twenty years, and have always kept clear books and no mistakes. Old Mr. Rich ards would not have it, sir. He would daily inspect his own books sir, and see that proper eateries were made, and accounts correctly posted, and invoices filed Ah, sir, he was a jewel of a business-man. Not like his son, sir. 0, no !” “ Did he inspect, wage-books, too, Mr Greasewell!” inquired Inkman, with a sly twinkle of the eye. The cold sweat broke on Greasewell’s skin, while a palpitating shudder went through his heart, and he remembered the having left the safe open in the forenoon. But mas tering his emotion, he slowly turned his eye from the table of figures before him, and said in reply, “ Did you ever know any establishment, friend Inkman, where the wage book was not a very principal book !” “ Assuredly not,” replied Inkman “ Well, then, why do you ask such a ques tion, sir ?” “ Simply because you did not mention it among other books, and because our present master does not seem to heed it much,” an swered the underclerk “ Indeed, but he does, sir,” returned Mr. Greasewell, with a significant shake of the head. “He saw it to-day, I tell you, and when at home looks into it every week, sir. The petty cash book, he seldom. I think, in spects ; it is in your keeping, Mr. Inkman, and I have always found it correct.” “ I trust all my books are, Mr. Grease well!” “ Verily and of a truth I believe they are, friend.” For a moment silence pervaded the count ing house, Mr. Greasewell evidently labor ing with some emotion. “ Shall I tell you something strange, friend Inkman ?” he at length said. “ If it so please you, Me. Greasewell ?” “ I trust I am always disposed for good,” continued the oily clerk. “ Well then, bills to the amount of seven thousand, drawn upon and payable to Messrs. Branson and Jones, Lombard street, City, fall due to-morrow, and the bankers they do business with Aere, prefer the ready cash to cheques upon our own bankers, How do you account' for it ? eh, Inkman ?” “Here you take me aback, Mr. Grease- “ Ay, and I am taken aback too,” con tinued the sleek brother. “ I mentioned it to Mr. Richards, and he told me never to mind, and gave his cheque off hand for me to draw the cash to-morrow afternoon from the one bank and pay it into the other. Verily, mine is a responsible office.” “ Mr. Richards wont trouble himself with it,” suggested Inkman. “Oh, of a surety not,” returned Gre&se well. “ What would be the use of confiden tial servants like you and me, if he should take such a trouble upon himself i” “0, of course not; but it is a strange proceeding in Mr. Flint the bank manager. He knows the firm of Henry Richards stands high.” “ He does, sir, he does,” pursued the sap ient Greaeewell: “ but poor human nature, sir—poor human nature. I. say, Mr. Ink man—it must not be mentioned out of doors —the credit of the firm, you know.” “ I trust 1 know my duty, Mr. Grease well.” “ Oh, of a surety, verily so, sir.” Inkman saw that there was something wrong, not connected with the firm, but with the conduct of Greasewell, and accord ingly resolved to watch him more closely than ever. The defalcation in the wage book was a trifle, compared with what the seven thousand pounds would be, if grasped by Greasewell and carried off triumphantly a-.-roes the Atlantic. Yet he dared scarcely entertain the thought, but still determined to watch him. The appearance of Mr Richards crossing the yard towards the c mnting house, for the time imposed silence upon the clerks. “ I have directed Mr Everwell to attend the large sale to-morrow in London, of Caldewell’s consignments of Georgian and Sea Island Cotton, Mr. Greasewell, and could wish either you or some other compe tent person to accompany him,” said Mr. Richards as he entered. “Do you think you can possibly find time ?” “ I might my good sir,” replied Grease well, “ but these acceptances, you know, sir, must be met.” “ True, true, Mr. Greasewell,” his master replied ; “ but I could manage that myself, you know.” “ Very well, sir: in that case I have no objections,” Mr. Greasewell said with a sad dened air; and Mr. Inkman strangled his suspicions. “ But what do you think of Mr. Inkman I” Greasewell again continued, and Inkmau’s suspicions again broke into new life. “He has never been in London, and I know he would like to go. Would you not, my friend!” “ I could like very well, I dare say,” an swered Inkman: “ but I am thinking my presence may be wanted at home.” “ Verily,, friend, wo may do without you for a day or two,” said Mr. Greasewell, with an incredulous stare at his endeavoring to set aside such honor. “ Undoubtedly, Mr. Greasewell, Inkman shall go,” exclaimed Mr. Richards. “ Let them have what money they require, and be in readiness for departing with an early train. You will enjoy yourself, Inkman. Tell Mr. Everwell that you accompany him. I snail leave you for to-night.“ Inkman and Everwell departed, the former afraid of his master’s property, but also afraid to drop a hint even to his companion, lest after all he should be mistaken; and, if the truth must be told, he was so absorbed in his long wished for-trip, that the interest of his master kicked the beam when balanced with his own prospective pleasure in the great metropolis. Greasewell had now free course; and that evening Mary Pellat joined him in Mr. Richards’s private counting house where sundry confidential conferences were held, and prolonged to a late hour. A man of nobie but still youthful appear ance, tall and symmetrical in form, with a profusion of dark curled hair and whiskerrf, and a dash of intellectual brilliancy glowing in his eyes, met Mr. Richards face to face, and as he was on the point of passing through the gateway of his factory to return home. Where he had seen him.he knew not, but positive he was that the countenance was not strange to him. He paused as they met, and the stranger, addressing him, said— “ Mr. Richards!” “The same sir.” “You had better return, sir,” the stranger coldly said, and his voice too seemed familiar to the ear of the cotton-spinner. “My bu siness is of an unpleasant nature, and you may not choose to discuss it in the street, and before presets-by.” “Indeed! then follow me,” said Richards, divining the nature of his mission, though not as yet suspecting who he was. A room attached to one wing of the range of build ings was empty of machinery and workers and only partly filled with cotton; and thither, as being furthest removed from lis tening ears, Mr. Richards led the stranger. “Now,” said he, “if your business with me be unpleasant, sir, your promptitude in stating it will be a favor.” “My language, sir,” replied Charles Jeff son, “shall be plain, prompt and pointed. I had a sister once, pure as the driven snow, the embodiment of virtue itself, and beau tiful—need 1 say how berutiful ? She was reduced, because her parents were reduced —and consented to work in a factory, be- NEW YORK, SUNDAY MORNIN cause her friends and the owner thereof per suaded her. But at length, when that mas ter could not conquer her virtue, ho gained her consent to a private marriage, and when he became weary of her, told her the mar riage was void, and that all had been a farce. What, Mr. Richards, should be the doom of such a villian ?” Never before had the eye of human being, but that of Harriet Jeffson, pierced the cot ton spinner so deeply; and never before, had he shrunk so profoundly into himself, or wished for annihilatiou so intensely as at that, moment. Nor did his enemy withdraw the transfixing glance when he ceased to speak. The fascination still continued, and it was only after a considerable time that Richards, breaking the silence, demanded, but with a quivering voice— “ Why do you put such a question to me, sir ?” “Because, as scripture hath it, thou art the man “And what if lam the man?” again de manded Richards. “That your villany shall meet its just punishment.” “And who shall administer it ?” Richards, apparently warming and mustering courage, again asked. “The person before you—-the laws of your country which you have outraged—and your own conscience!” replied the tormenton, with emphatic firmness. “A pretty catalogue of ministers, truly ! And you are to be first executioner ?” cried Richards, with apparent score “I bandy no needless words, sir,” rejoined Charles : then opening a small slip of paper like the leaf of a copy-book, he held it in his hand and asked Richards to look at it.— When he had read it, and marked the signa tures, Charles continued, “these are indeli ble evidences, sir; and I suppose the signa tures are genuine ?” “That does not render the mock-marriage legal,” obserped Mr. Richards, committing himself. “A mock■ marriage!” exclaimed Charles. “Gretna Green marriages ore legal, sir, and binding as those of the'church.” “But the marriage, such as it was, did not take place at Gretna Green, nor by the legal functionary. Harriet herself believed so : but it was oteerwise.” “Mhen there is conspiracy in the case,” Charles resumed. “But mark you, sir! your friends forsake you, conscience-stricken at the base parts they acted. One of them says it was at Gretna Green, and by the legal functionary, and that the signature on this certificate of marriage ia as genuine as your own.” Richards trembled —his face and lips turned pale—and he answered not “Mark again ! ’ continued Charles, seeing he had hit the proper mark, and that Rich ards was in his power, “to-night I set off for Gretna Green, to examine the register kept there, and to see the functionary regarding this signature. I shall apply for a warrant to apprehend you for bigamy when I re turn !” He departed, leaving Richards thunder struck and horrified. In a shsrt time ho’fol lowed, and when issuing from the gate, to his horror met Charles Jeffson and his sister arm-in-arm, passing slowly by. To be continued. CURRENT LITEIUTIJRE. Isthmus of Tehuantepec : “ Being tKc results of a survey for a Railroad to con nect the. Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, made by the Scientific Commission, under the di rection of Maj. J. 0. Barnard, U. S. Engineer Corps. With a resume of the geology, cli mate, local geography, productive industry, fauna and flora of that region. Illustrated with numerous maps and engravings. Ar ranged and prepared for the Tehuantepec Railroad Company of New Orleans, by J. J. Williams, Principal Assistant Engineer.”— Such is the title of au elaborate work from the press of D. Appleton & Company. It is a worthy companion to Squier’s ‘‘Central America and Nicaragua.” Whichever of the two routes may eventually be decided on as the transit passage between the Atlantic and Pacific, the surveys of the Central American and Mexican territories contiguous to either Isthmus have not been thrown away. They have brought before the public a mass of information which the community would not now willingly lose nor lightly pass over.— We do not suppose that the transit of Pan ama will for immediate uses be longer in fa vor with the trading or travelling classes of the Union than necessity compels. A short er, less efficient, and more expeditious route is asked for, imperatively demanded, and if Tehuantepec be found, on due trial, the most favorable transit for commerce, it will be adopted even if the decision results to the disadvantage of the other routes. Our com mercial and trading classes on the Northern Pacific coast cannot have too expeditious a means for communication. However, there will from Europe, and even fom the States, always be sufficient to employ Nicaragua and Panama in connection with the South Pacific, Indian, Asiatic, and South American islands and coasts. Commerce is steadily increasing with Chili, Peru, the Sandwich Islands, Australia and China, and in a few years will rise to such importance that the two routes now open, and the Tehuantepec transit con templated by the New Orleans Railroad Co. may be found insufficient. The easier the access, and shorter the time of transit be tween the two oceans, the greater will be the increase of interoceanic relations. As a scientific work —luminous and astute, the “ Isthmus of Tehuantepec’’ cannot but be regarded in the most favorable light by the simple and the learned. The following pas sage, which is extracted from the chapter on “Inhabitants,” will be found of interest : THE INDIANS OF TEHUANTEPEC. In their persons the Indians are somewhat be low the medium stature, but squarely built, and of great muscular strength, being often able to support a weight of from one hundred and fifty to two hundred pounds on their shoulders for several hours, exposed to the rays of the hottest summer sun. They are copper colored, with smooth, coarse hair, small beard, diminutive eyes, prominent cheek-bones, low. narrow fore head, aquiline features, white teeth, thick lips, and a gentle expression of mouth, strongly con tracted with a. melancholic and severe look. The women, on the other hand, are less strongly built, imd in some instances beautiful and well proportioned—a beauty which is enhanced by their devotion to home, and the natural grace of their carriage. Their movements are quick and mercurial, and their manners are characterized by shyness rather than modesty. The Abbe Clavigero, in his excellent work on Mexico, says, in .reference to the physical char acter of the Indians, that “ there is scarcely a nation perhaps on earth in which there are fewer persons deformed; and it would be more difficult to find a single hump-backed, lame or squint eyed man amongst a thousand Mexicans, than among any hundred of any other nation ” This assertion is literally true of the natives on the Isthmus. In their habits they are exceedingly simple, and their chief subsistence consists of vegetable food ; but they are inveterate drunk ards, and their passion for intoxicating liqifors is carried to the greatest excess. When not un der the influence of drink they are grave and thoughtful—a gravity which is particularly re markable in Indian children. Their senses are exceedingly acute, especially that of sight, and their constitution-, notwithstanding habitual inebriation, sound, and their health robust. As a general rule, they are indifferent to advanta ges, and little incline! to work; but, from the natural docility of their character, it seems only reasonable to infer that under better and brighter circumstances they would become both useful and industrious. Every man and boy wears a machete, and the facility and dexterity of its use is not a little surprising. It serves as a weapon for defence, an instrument for killing beef, an axe for cutting wood, and a knife for eating, &c. As axemen, to perform the grub bing and clearing on the route of the prop sed railroad, their services will be found invaluable. The American Whig Review, for March. Champion Bissell. Besides a portrait of Hon. Wm. A. Graham, Secretary of the Navy, the Whig Review has short but excellent papers on the following subjects: To the Farmers of America; Journalism and Journalists in Paris; Evenings with some Female Poets; Blackwood’s Magazine; Mormonism in Illi nois ; The American Drama; Historical Tra ditions of Tennessee; Humble Petition and Remonstrance of a Living Author to Prince Posterity ; Gallia Capta; Nicaragua and the Interoceanic Canal; Permanency and Power of Whig Principles; Epitaphs and Epigrams ; A Lump from the California Placer; Gen eral Review; Congressional Summary, and Critical Notices. From the Historical Tra ditions of Tennessee, we extract from the introductory, the following sketch of early acenes of adventure in the south west. Until the year 1700, the territory of North Carolina and Tennessee, an indefinite region extending south-west and north-west, in the lan guage cf the royal British charters, to the South Seas, was known as “ our county of Albermarle, in Carolina." Even as late as 1750, the coun try lying west of tha Apalachian mountains was wholly unknown to tho peoph of the Carolinas and Virginia. When, a few years later, the Bri tish army under Braddock crossed the mountains from Maryland and Pennsylvania, and marched to Fort Du Quesne, now Pittsburgh, that march was described by the writers of the times as an advance into the deep recesses and fastn sses of a savage wilderness. At. that time the French owned all the Canadas, the valley of the Ohio and all its tributaries, and claimed .he rest of the continent to the confines of Mexico, westward from the Ohio and Mississippi rivers. The old French maps of that period, and the journals and letters of French traders and hunters, toge ther with the traditions of the Indians, afford the only reliable information in relation to the then condition of the country now composing Kentucky and Tennessee. In tho French maps of those times, the Kentucky, Holston, Tennes see and Ohio are laid down. The Kentucky is called k ataway, the Holston is called the Chero kee ; an 1 the Little Tennessee is called Tana sees. The river, aft r the junction of the Hols ton and Tennessee, is called Ho-go hegee, and the only Indian town marked on its banks is at the mouth of Bear creek, near the north-west corner of illabama. There were forts (which were little more -han trading-posts) at several points on the Ohio and Mississippi; Fort Du Quesne, where Pittsburgh now stands, and one at the mouth of the Kenhawa river ; another at the mouth of the Kentucky, and Fort Vincennes, near the mouth of the Oubach, or Wabash; Fort Massac, half way between the mouth of the Ohio and the Tennessee, on the Illinois side, and another on the Tennessee, twelve miles above its mouth. They also had a fort where Memphis now stands, called Prud’homme; another at the mouth of the Arkansas, called Ackensa ; ano ther tear Natchez, and one at the junction of the Coosa and Tallapoosa, called Halabamas.— South of these last forts, the Spaniard-; had pos session in Florida, Louisiana, and Texas A greater part of Kentucky, Tennessee, and Wes tern Virginia, was represented on these maps as wholly uninhabited. Certain it is, that not more than a dozen years afterward, when the pioneers of Tennessee and Kentucky first ex plored that region, they found the bmks of the Holston, Watauga, Cumberland, and Kentucky, and their tributaries, wholly uninhabited, it was all one vast wilderness, into which hunting parties of Indians from its distant borders enter ed and roamed in pursuit of game, but in which they made no permanent lodgment. Numerous warlike nations lived south, west, and north of this wilderness, but it was a “ dark and bloody ground,” in which they loved not to dwell. And hither it was that the lion-hearted pioneers of the Cumberland and Watauga came, with axe and rifle, to subdue at once the savage and the wilderness. In 1758, Colonel Bird, of the British army, es tablish d Fort Chissel, in Wyth county, Va , to protect the frontiers of Virginia, and, advancing into what is now Sullivan county. Tenn., built a fort near Long Island, on the Holston or Wa tauga. There was not then a single white man living in the borders of Tennessee The year before, Governor Dobbs, of North Carolina had, at the request of the Cherokee Indians, built Fort Lowdon, and the Indians agreed to make grants of land to all artisans who would settle among them. Fort Lowdon was on the Little Tennessee, near the mouth of Tellico river, in the centre of the Cherokee nation, and about one hundred miles south of the fort at Long Island. Between these forts were the first settle ments, which struggled for several years against the fearful ravages of Indian wars, before the be ginning of the Revolution. During that period, that region became the refuge of many patriots, who were driven by the British invasion from the Carolinas. From the year 1780 to 1790, best families of the Carolinas, Georgia, sought homes beyond the mountains. of them, patriotic republicans, who had sacrificed everything for their country in the struggle for independence, and hoped to have found, in the secluded vales and thick forests of the West, that peace and quiet which they had not found amidst the din of civil and foreign war, soon ex perienced all the horrors of a savage, marauding, guerilla warfare, which swept away their prop erty, and deprived them of their wives and chil dren, either by a barbarous death, or a not less agonizing slavery as captives, dragged into the wild recesses of the Indian borders Many fearful tales of these bloody scenes, which would illustrate the early history of Ten nessee, are only known to a few, as family tra ditions, and, even amongst the descendants of the sufferers, are only remembered as stories of the nursery, and not as chapters in the great his toric record of the past. zk History of the Art of Midwifery. —A lecture delivered at the College of Phy sicians and Surgeons, November 11th, 1851, introductory to a course of private instruc tion on operative Midwifery; showing the past inefficiency and present natural incapa city of females in the practice of Obstetrics, by Augustus R. Gardiner, M. D. Stringer & Townsend, publishers. We are certainly not disposed to enter the lists nor join issue with Dr. Gardiner on the capacity or incapa city of females in so important a branch of the healing art as Obstetrics. ,We have ever entertained the opinion that females are, as mid-wives, eminently better calculated to fill this important office than men. Throwing science aside,humanity and modesty alike call for the general reintroduction of women to the practice of the obstetric art. While we confess that the facta brought forward by the Doctor in support of hia theory are not only profound but startling, we do not think them sufficient to outweigh the sensibilities of the sick or the delicate attention of the female manipulator. Interest may desire that an emasculating practice should be con fined to present hands, but nature and phi lanthrophy positively declare, on the other hand, that unto Cesar should be rendered the things which are Cesar’s, and to woman the things which are woman’s. A practice reviv ed by the prostitute of a king ought not in our day and in a society pretending to honor and Christianity, be longer tolerated. Those elements of modesty which in the women are slid to be innate, in the presence of the offi cial adviser, are at every accouchment les sened, until the exhibition of the blush, by frequent contact with man, is forgotten alto gether. Husbands should not only insist, but even go out of their way, if necessary, in order to procure as a principal in the sick chamber a properly educated woman, and in this opinion, we know that many respectable physicians unite. We are satisfied, Dr. Gar diner to the contrary, that women, as accou chers, are more fortunate in delivery than men; and fewer accidents happen when the patient is placed under woman’s charge, than when under modern practice the confined are placed at the disposition and tender mercies of instruments and thoughtless physicians. Dr. Gardiner never attempts to condemn a practice which is abhorred by the whole community, for he, with the attachment of a scientific man to the mechanical diabelrie cf his art, thus exultingly refers to the neces sity and regular use of forceps in delivery. The paragraph ought of itself to condemn the lecture. forceps. From the general introduction of the forceps into obstetric practice about the vi ar 1700, one very happy result was achieved. Previous to this time physicians, as I have before said, ware otly called in to wf men ia labor to correct thi blun ders committed by the ignorant women in atten di r ca, and as this was generally after hope it self had almost fled, he was generally considered aa the messenger of death. Bat the pretentions of the posses. l ors of this new ins rument to great ly abridge tho duration of labor when it. was na tural, and to save life when difficult, changed the habits of tho people. Every woman al most was delivered witi tho forceps ! The con sequence was, tbat the theoretical knowledge of the physician soon became practicd, what had been for so long mere chance, quickly adva ced to the dignity of an art. Vigorcus and educat ed minds began lo be interested about it; labors were classified and instruments were used only in cases requiring them. RAPID PROPAGATION. While I am upon the Bible history of tho art of midwifery, it may not be amiss to mention an ia tanee of tne most rapid propagation mention ed in any work. After Joseph was settled as Governor cf Egypt and his father had gone wiih all his b'use to join him, “alt the souls of the hou'6 of Jacob wh : ch came kt) Egypt were throe score and ten,” which evidently refers only to the males—the descend»nts, excepting the t-iba of Levi, ware numbered by Moser, the se cond year ufter leaving Egypt—which is vari ously considered to be from 210 j ears to 430 years. The lumber at this 'ime was 6’03 350 fighting men above 20 years cf age. A calcuia tion is gone into ia the Talmud which has b» en very much rid ; culed by meny. Allowing for the e>rly marriages capable of beiog contracted in a *a m climate, and ordinary length of life, it is found that for this increase it is necessary that tiere should be six children at a birth. Those beli. ving this have been jeered at, because it was stated thas there never vas an instance re corded of so many human beings being born at once But, recently, a woman at Sydney, New S. Wales, was delivered of this number, which has proved the thing possible, though none the less miraculous. Alexander and the Dragon, a Ro mance of the Hartz Prison. By Frederic William Shetton, M. A. John 8. Taylor, publisher. The objects of the work will be better understood by quoting the following paragraph—the preface to the book : “ The allegory is intended to illustrate the danger of uttering or of lending ear to the unkind word or insinuation, a sin which may be just ly esteemed a sort of bitterness, and from which, in some shape or other, none but those who are nearly aogels are exempt The application being eo general, although a few of the following pages may appear too light for the high moral design which we have desired to convey. Should this little volume be the means of drawing attention to the detestable habit of detraction, its ob ject will be attained.” As illustrative of the above we quote the following passage from the text: HALANDF.R AND THE PRIEST. Priest Methinks I know you well. Sal. —My acquaintance is extensive. Who has not at some time known me I J, MARCH 6, 18.58. Priest —An iif you are tr<e one whin 1 take you t ■ be they bav\ repent d of tbe k-owle>i< e. Sal —Varioy’a tbe v<ry ?picd of 11 e, &•» well m convertation. Le- unchange tbe enbject H.w ftbot those Decro.t&l EpistLs'l 1) > 1 no •’n Je"st-u:d c >i’ , og»apbv and forced writings ? Y o • Reyi.re-.ee, I say it p ; ohsly; they are a cheat. Priest. —You shall not sp ak o? Holy Church v * m*. Your name is Salander (Slander.) 8?l —lt is nt Salander now : for 1 have just found it cenv«nbnt tn spaak the truth Pl test. —Thou evil Tongue! Thou incarua’e Lie ! 1 know all abou’ your doings. Tna* which is so hoi/ as t u ♦> comas hot from you You are one whom every Christian man i- bound to driv'- o it of hij 1 o xee, and every prin’e out of his do urnion ! , and it were hnpy for 'ha world if it hid not a p-aeoior you to stand on. You are •*'tcoinmanic.it:’, long t-iuce under an ihema. — Nooiecm lawfully give you fire, va> c r. food, clothh g, shelter, yoc you manage to g > arnoniz people of th? church, and l o in wait to work mi.-chiff. Whcnc » have you come 1 F»om fr<fud and cupnir g, and tbe rain of peaceful familkb and of piivato friendships, -H-ases which an pear too great to be traced to sujh ae you. Whi ther aie you going '• Is it not upon tbe same er- L aod?, to breed suspicion, to jract.i.)« violence 1 What b ings you here '? said the p ies',, s amp ing his fo -t. end fixing on him an eye whose beam was like tbe flashing of a sword cherubic Salander qu tiled Hunt’s Merchants’ Magazine, and Commercial’-Review, for March Thia superb monthly now lies before ua, and to say that it is the first of its class, cannot be considered as invidious, for we arc not aware that a publication similar in its objects and views is issued by any other press in the United States, and certainly the commercial periodicals of Europe are in every particu lar its inferior. Mr. Hunt is indefatigable in procuring all necessary information, and as a statistical compendium of commercial knowledge, the magazine is invaluable. The principal papers for this month may be enu merated as follows : Commerce of France in 1850 ; Fisheries of the United States ; A Na tional Currency—-Real Estate its Basis; Commercial Cities aud Towns in the United States; Currency—Gold and Silver; Laws Relating to Debtor and Creditor in Wiscon sin ; Fearless Feat of an American Whale man, and many other brief but important articles. We select the following from among the minor papers : EARLY CURRENCY IN MAINE. Long before any permanent settlements were made on the shores of Maine, there was an ex tensive commerce carried on with the Indites of that territory hy the fleets which annually camo from Europe for fish >nd peltry. In such inter course, cash was scarcely known. The natives were ready to barter large amounts of skins for b'-ads, knives, hatchets and blankets, and espe cially for t bacco, powder, shot, guns and strong wa er. Phila thropists, who desired the high est welfare of the red man, and sought to bring him under the salutary restraints of the Gospel, according to the professed purpose of every char ter for American colonies, porooived mat the most of sucn merchandise tended to demora’ize and re der him a dangerous neighbor. They petitioned and obtained restrictions. Their be nevolent action, as usual in attempts to suppress gainful but deleterious custom*, caused much excitement among the numerous traders, Who set more by their own interest fit. an they cared for ethers’ ruin. The article cf peltry, si abundantly offered by the natives and so eagerly sought by foreign ers, was received and passed as ca:h by the colo nists. Another cimnr dity, adopted by them from the aborigineI’, 1 ’, for a similar end, was wampum. This was brought from M-mhadoes, afterward< New York, on a voyage thither in 1628 It is thu< described by Governor Bradf.rd: “Tntt which in time turns m st to cu>- advantage is the r now acquainting and entering us in o the trade of wampum; by which, and p ovisio s, we quite cut off the trade both f ora the fisher men and struggling planters. And stra »gc it is, to see the great alteration it in a f w ye rs makes among the savages. For the Massachu setts and others in these pirts had scarce any, it being <nly ma e and kept among the Pequots and Naragansetts, who grew rich and potent by it; whereas the reit, vilio use it not, arejo r and beggarly.” Here we have the p sition, long assume I by ♦he are «t body cf tbe civilized that a circulat ing medium, made from the fruits of the field and of the chase, tends to enrich an 1 st’engihen a people, coz firmed by ths> exp rience of men ia a s ate of nature. Roger Willi uns, in his observati- r s on such mo ey of the New E jgland Indians, gives the succeeding account: “ Their o»n is of two sor s—one whi e, which they irake of the s'em or stock of the periwin kle, when all the shell is broken off; a d of this sort, six of their small beads, which they make with holes.to string their bracelets, arc curr n with tbe English fir a penny. The second is black, inclining to blue, which is male of 'he shtll of a fish, which some English call heis— pequihcck; and of this sort, Three make an English p-nny. x One lathom of this their stringed money, is worth five shillings.” The Old Soldier— lllustrated by “ My Son John .•” Number three. The illustra tions of this laughable and satirical affair, are capital. Among the number may be enumerated, The Non-Intervention Policy of Uncle Sam; Competition is the Life of Trade; Lady Teazle in the School for Scandal; House Hunting; Hypocrisy and Rum; The Noblest Roman of them All; Heels and Toes—The African and the Anglo-Saxon; The Maine Liquor Law —its Operation Those fond of an hour’s amusement, a hearty laugh, and are anxious to drive the blues out of their animate carcases, had better drop a quarter at the office, 69 Nassau st., and secure a copy of the March number of the Old Soldier. TRAVELS IN ABYSINIA. We continue to-day our translation of the extracts from this forthcoming book, com menced last week. A short distance from Angolola M. d’Here oourt was complimented by several Gran dee’s of the court whom the king had sent to meet him. Angolola is a city upon the frontier of tbe Gallas country, which was founded by the present king for the purpose of defending his country from their inroads, the two tribes being every year engaged in war. Situated at the conflux of two rivers, this city presents a smiling and picturesque aspect. It is built between two hills and shaded by magnificent palm and cedar trees Our traveler stopped some time at this city. After having climbed the hills and pene trated several Subterraneous passages, M d’Haricourt entered a vast court in which were assembled numerous soldiers and seve ral great men of the country, who saluted him with joyous acclamations. In a second court, in tbe form of a cloister, were a great number of persons attired in rich dresses, and it was only upon entering the third court, that he saw the king At the ex treme end of this court was an immense hut in which his majesty gave his grand recep tions. It differed from the common habita tions of the country, inasmuch as it was di vided into two compartments or stories.— That upon the ground floor was used as a stable, from which M. d’Haricourt ascended to the second story, where a door presented itself which opened into the reception room of King Sahle-Salassi and opposite this door in a coridor which surrounded the apartment the. king was seated upon a sofa His head was uncovered, according to the fashion of the country; his taube (mantle) draperied and looped up in an antique fashion exposed beneath a robe of Indian gold brocade and his wrists were ornamented with massive bracelets of gold. Snhle-Sallassi was a man of about fifty years of age; of a copper colored complex ion, with a noble, intellectual and benevo lent expression of countenance. As soon as he saw M. d Haricourt, he rose and held out his hand to him in the most unaffected man ner, and the French traveller, without con forming to the usages of the country, which required that he should prostrate himself upon his knees before the king, took the of fered hand, embraced his majesty cordially, and seated himself beside him on the sofa. “ Bon pour Rochet," said Sahle Salassi.— “Bonjour, mon ami; bonjour mon fils. — Thou hast overcome danger by thy courage, and thou hast arrived here in safety. I have been much disquieted about thee. Tell me, did the Danakiles maltreat thee.’ I wrote, to all the chiefs in thy favor. If they have not treated thee well, thou shalt be avenged, Dieu le Sait." And thus he con tinued asking various questions of M. d’Ha ricourt respecting his journey ; then seeing that his guest was fatigued, he left him to take some rest, first informing him that he (the king) suffered much from rheumatism. “ Have you no remedy that will cure this diseasehe asked. Now on leaving Paris M. d’Haricourt had promised a professor of the College de France that he would procure for him a young hippopotamus, so he replied to the prince, “ No, I have no remedy for the disease of which thou complainest; but thou hast a remedy in thine own country.” “ What is it ?” “ It is the fat' of a young hippopotamus, with which thou must anoint the diseased parts and thou wilt be healed.” “In that case,” said the king, “I shall order a hippopotamus hunt upon the river Tchia-Tchia ; these animals are numerous in the neighborhood of Angolola. When thou hast shown me the presents thou bringest me, thou may’st go thyself to the hunt, and I will appoint a troop of my guards to take care of thee. We should mention that this was a second visit that M. d’Hericourt had paid to Ango- lola, and thus it was that the King was s< familiar with him The hut in which he was installed on. thiF a'-oond visit was the same he had before oc cupied, and upon entering it he found the table abundantly supplied with roast meats, vegetables, fish, and excellent fruits; the interior was lighted up by torches held in tho hands of 2-1 men; these torches were made of cotton cloth dipped in wax. Around the table stood twelve Abysinian negroes silently awaiting the orders of their master. On the following day Sable Sallassi sent for his gues't at an early hour, so important was he to satisfy bis curiosity respecting the presents which the traveller had promised to bring him from France, and the chests and bales containing these presents were soon brought into the presence of the King and displayed before him and several of his courtiers and governors of the provinces, whom he had summoned to be present upon the occasion. Upon steps elevated in the form of an amphitheatre, the principal in habitants of the city were seated upon rich Persian carpets decorated with foliage, with branches of aromatic trees and with gar lands of flowers which emitted the most ex quisite perfume, this court presented a truly brilliant appearance. At the moment when Sahle Sallassi took his seat upon the throne, M d'H&ricourt. the tme hero of the fete, entered, preceded and followed by a body guard of officers richly dressed, whom the King had appoint ed expressly to do him honor. Loud aoola mations greeted his appearance, and the musicians of the King' composed of drum mers, fifers and performers on the cymbals and the tambourine sent forth their sweet est and most harmonious notes. M. d’Hari court made a brief speech in which he feli citated the monarch on the prosperity of the country and concluded by speaking of France in such a manner as to arouse the curiosity and wonder of his audience. The King replied that he was struck with astonishment at the grandeur and munifl cence of the French people and that his greatest sorrow was that he could not visit the country-—the objsetof his dreams and sincerest affection, and it was this idea alone that rendered the thought of death insup portable to him as ha must die without sat isfying his desire. When the King had con cluded the music broke out afresh, and at a given signal M. d’Harioourt withdrew a cur taiu before a tent in which the presents had been arranged, and pyramids of muskets, carbines, pistols and swords were exposed to view, and from beneath a flag rose up twelve of the King’s guards, whom M. d’l-laricourt had adorned with sparkling helmets and brilliant cuirasses and long cavalry sabres The King was transported with admiration at this spectacle. Then two small cannons painted red were brought forward. At sight of them Sable Sallassi forgot completely his royal dignity—he behaved like a child with a new toy—patted and embraced the can nons—placed his fingers in the touch-holes, and gavf* way fa nncon troll able burst of joy ous laughter until the tears coursed down his cheeks. Suddenly strange sounds were heard. M. d'Haricourt had approached one of the boxes which contained the cylindrical barrels, a turn of the handle set them in motion and they played the Sicileaine in the first act of Robert >e diable and then the Marseillaise hymn M. d’Haricourt’s arm began to get tried, but the King was not sat i.-fied, he took the handle in his own hand, and then in turns deputed the great person ages of the court to de the same, and they seemed as though they would never grow tired. At length the moment for firing off the cannons had arrived, and at the explosion the Abysinians fell flat with their faces upon the earth. Two other discharges followed, and at the third one of the guns in rebound ing upset the King. The firing then ceased. After the presents from the French gov ernment had been exhibited, came those from private persons, comprising the rich and ele gant manufactures of Fiauce which had been sent by several merchants with the ob ject of giving the King of Choa some idea of French ministry. These having been duly admired, M. d’Haricourt was presented to the Queen Betsabode, one of the highest honors he could receive, as very few of her subjects had enjoyed the pleasure of seeing her. This memorable court festivity was closed with a grand feast after the fashions of the country, which was in fact one of the great est curiosities that could have been met with in Choa. We shall conclude thia intereating trans lation in our next The following chapter gives a description of the feast and of a Hippopotamus hunt. THE "SPIRITS” IX INDIANA. A correspondent of the Richmond Palla dium, -writing from Knightstown, Ind., tells some wonderful stories of the “doings” of the spirits in that locality. As will be seen by the extracts which we give below, he re fers to the names of people of all classes in conuection with these “manifestations.” We should judge that such “spirits” as those who appear to have visited Knightstown could hardly fail to convince the most skep tical—because if nothing else would answer, they would knock a proper belief into the unfortunate individual who ventured to question their being genuine inhabitants of the spirit world. Here is a part of the com munication of Mr. Levi H Stratt.an : “Now forwhat they done (at Knights town.) At Maj Culbertson’s (his daughter being the medium) they have rapped as loud a* a man could if strikiuglhe table with his fist; tho table has also followed Mies Cul bertson across the room! and at her bidding, tbe Rappers have removed the hearth-plate of the cooking-stove. She has also been carried about the room setting in. her chair; and many other things have been done that seems incredible, but nevertheless they are true. , “At Mark Coon's in this vicinity, the ta ble has been raised one foot from the floor, and would stand there for some time, and at the bidding of his little boy, the table has shoved men up against the wall of the house and held them there, notwithstanding they used all their power to shove it back ; and at t9e bidding of the medium, the table has frequently moved from seventeen to eighteen feet. Andrew Byket, close by Mr. Coon’s, has a little girl about 13 or 14 years old.— She is a writing medium, and will, with great haste and precision, write the signa ture of the departed, and answer questions when she is interrogated, and, at the same time, be reading in a book with her head turned from the paper. Sh; writes on, and after finishing a line, she will dot the i’sand cross the t's without looking at what she has written There is a young man in the same neighboohood, by the name of Jesse Byket, who. has never been known to write, who is also a medium ; he writes answers to ques tions, and cannot read it himself after it is done ! At Nathan Ballenger’s there has also >?en powerful demonstrationß. I will, men tion one. Mr. Ballenger’s brother being an unbeliever, called on him and wished that the Spirits could be gotten up, as he wanted to know if it was all a humbug or not. Well the circle was formed, and the manifesta tions commenced by moving the table, &o , bat still Mr. B. was not satisfied, and re quested that the candle, in the candle-stick to arise out of its socket and turn the burn ing end into the candle-stick. No sooner said, than the candle raised slowly. Mr. B. was requested to take hold of the candle and keep it from turning; ho grabbed the candle and tried to keep it from turning, but could not; and down went the candle into the candle-stick and was put out. It got Mr B. ‘down’ so completely, that he said he would “now go to bed !” “At James Woods’house, in our town, the other evening, Miss Culbertson came over, and moved chairs, and tumbled them over without herself or any person being within four feet of them, and many other things were dona which proved most satisfactory that such demonstrations were done by some unseen, invisible power and not by hu man agency. “I have tried J. P. Emsweller’s test, by putting glass under my table-legs, and on top of the table , under the medium's hands; but it had no effect whatever—the table moved off as it had done heretofore. One more case of “glass” fixing and I will con clude. Dr. G. W. Riddle, of our town, told two of Daniel Mason’s sons, who are medi ums, that he could fix the table so that if the Spirits could move it, he would give them his horse. Well, the doctor wet to work. The table having six legs, he put six glass tumblers under the legs, and then pnt two window-panes of glass under-the boys hands and on the table, and bid defiance to the Spirits. One of the boys said, “if the spirit of my brother, William Mason, is present, please move the table,” and off went the ta ble. Th'e doctor’s eyes began to ‘bug out’ about a feet, and scratched his head. A new idea strack the Doctor’s mind, and he thought he would triumph, and prove to all in the house that it was done by electricity —so he had one of the boys to leave the ta ble, and ho put a pane af glass on the centra thereof, and had the other boy to stand on his feet and reach over the table and put but one finger on said pane of glass. The boy then said, ‘if the spirit of my brother, Wil liam Mason, is present, please move the table towards Dr. Riddle;’ no sooner said than s way went the table towards Doctor ! The Doctor ‘knocked under,’ and offered the boys I his horse, but they refused to take it, “In James Wood’s store, last night, the mediums turned his stand over about half way down, and made it remain on two legs in that position—the candle-stick commenced sliding off, and at their request, it stopped and remained stationary. “The Spiritual Rapping excitement'has been in our State for more than a year, and no one has been brought to the Asylumn as yet, who has been made so by the Rapping excitement, so far as I know. They teach the doctrine of eternal progression, and de grees in happiness, as one star different from another in glory ; they also teach the doc trine of the final happiness and holiness of all mankind in the immortal state. They have told many things which no human pow er could have known anything about; they have also made some mistakes, for aught I know. But when a man says it is all a ■humbug ;’ I consider him much more hum bugged than those who believe in it.. I do hope the scientific will investigate the matter and tell us all about it, on scientific princi ples if they can. “I hope you will publish this for truth’s sake. The Rappers have vindicated them selves by saying that Emsweller wrote his letter while under the influence of the spirit of Corn. I know nothing about that myself. I could tell you much, more, but my communication is twice as long as I in tended it when I began to writs I could get fifty men to sign this if it were necessary, and all of the most respectable class, too.” aaCTnarnmnwcMßßaaa THE TWO THIEVES. A most singular and somewhat laughable occurrence took place in Paris on the after noon of the 4th of last month. Mrs. Fou dain occupied a room in the fourth story of a house in the Faubourg Mont Marten, and being a most cleanly and decent woman, she felt greatly annoyed by some dense clouds of smoke, which every morning made its way through a crevice in the chimney. So much, indeed, did she object to these visita tions, that she made up her mind to speak to her landlord, though the very small rent which she paid scarcely allowed of the tak ing of such a liberty. She was decided, however, and finding Mr. Billet in the en tresol, on the morning of the 4th, she cou rageously walked up to him and preferred her complaint. Mr. B. was a prudent man; he did not like to promise a reform before he had seen the necessity of it; nor did he like to refuse, lest the thing might bo true; in which case a non reform would lead to the loss of a lodger, and that of a small rent. Ho therefore offered to go up stairs and see, but Mrs. Fondain had to go to her work, and she therefore handed out the key to her room, that he might see for himself, and without restraint. Half an hour afterwards M. Billet clam bered up stairs and approached the door of the room, but what was his surprise when he saw that somebody else had got tho start of him, for in t.bei Jnnr-lock. rtito enough, there was a key “ A thief,” said good M. Billet to himself, “ who had taken advantage of the absence of Mrs. F. to rob her of her little all, but he shall not succeed.” Having finished this creditable soliloquy, M. Billet softly opened the door, byway of making quite sure. He was not mistaken; a stran ger of very suspicious appearance was with in, and engaged in the pleasant occupation of ransacking a bureau drawer. Quick as thought, M. Billot slammed the door to, and turned the key, but quick though he was, the eye of the stranger had noticed him, and whilst the worthy landlord caused a terrific alarm down stairs, by calling upon each and everybody to assist him in the cipture of the thief, he heard, to his great surprise, the voice of the latter, who, from the fourth story window, spread the same alarm over the street. Here, then, was a pretty muss Hun dreds assembled to take part in the solution of the question, and the whole mob rushed up stairs, led by the now gallant M. Billet. He had lost the key, and axes were brought to force open the door; it cracked, it burst, it flew open, and exhibited to view the very man whom they sought For a moment his eye glanced over the mass; then it fixed upon good M. Billet, and in another instant the latter was seized by the stranger, who exclaimed in a voice of fury, “ This is the thief; I recognize him; away with him to the police.” “ Me !” exclaimed the worthy M. Billet; “la thief? Sir, do you know that lam the proprietor of this house ? It is you who is the thief!” The return of Mrs. Fondain, who had been sent for in all haste, cleared up the mystery. When the story had been told to her, she looked long and earnestly at the two thieves, then indulged in a roar of laughter which threatened to kill her, and when she at last recovered, she said, pointing to the stranger— ■“ Why, he is my husband.” So, indeed, it turned out. M. Foudain, who held the situation of a concierge in a neighboring establishment, and who had only an hour now aud then during the day time to come home for a change of linen. Ho was looking for a clean shirt when M. Billet espied him at the bureau drawer. MARRIAGE. There is no greater plague to a married woman than when her husband dischargeth on her back all his jars, quarrels, and pas sions, and reserveth his pleasures, joys, and company for another. Let men obey the laws, and women their husbands. Unhappy is tbat man that marrieth, being in poverty. Old age and marriage are alike; for we desire them both, and once possessed, then we repent. Give thy wife no power over thee; for if thou suffer her to-day to tread upon thy foot, she will not stick to-morrow to tread upon thy head. No man suffereth his wife much, but he is bound to suffer more. The Grecian ladies counted their years from their marriage, not their birth. The Caspians made a law, that he who mar ried after he had passed fifty years should, at the common aßßcmblics aud fvuisto, cit in the lowest and vilest place, as one that com mitted a fact repugnant to nature. Such as arc desirous to marry in haste, have often times sufficient time to repent at leisure Inequality in marriage is often an enemy to love. The roundest circle hathits diameter, the favourablest aspects their incident oppo sitions, and marriage is qualified with many trifling griefs and troubles. He that marries himself to a fair face, ties himself oftentimes to a foul bargain. A good husband must be wise in words, mild in conversation, faithful in promise, circumspect in giving counsel, careful in provision for his house, diligent in ordering his goods, patient in importunity, jealous in bringing up his youth. A good wife must be grave abroad, wise at home, patient to suffer, constant to love, friendly to her neighbors, provident for her husband. Marriage with peace is this world’s Paradise; with strife, this life’s Purgatory. Silence and patience cause concord between married couples. It is better to marry a quiet fool than a witty scold. A chaste matron, by obeying her husband’s will, hath rule over him. The first conjunction of man’s society is man and wife. — Sam Tewkesubry’s Scrap Book. Keel-Hauling. —Capt. Marryatt gives the following description of this barbarous method of punishment, which was once con sidered as necessary to naval discipline as the lash is at the present day by two or three members of the United States Senate : —- “ This ingenious process, which, like many other good old customs, has fallen into dis use, must be explained to the non-nautical reader. It is nothing more nor less than sending a poor navigator on a voyage of dis covery under the bottom of the vessel, low ering him down over the bows, and with ropes retaining him exactly in his position under the kelson, while he is drawn aft by a hauling line, until he makes his appearance at the rudder chains, generally speaking, quite out of breath, not, at the rapidity of his motion, but because, when so long under the water, he has expended all the breath in his body, and is induced at last to take in Balt water en lieu. There is much merit in this invention; people are very apt not to be content with walking the deck of a man of ,war, and complaining of it as a hardship, but when once they have learnt, by experience, the difference between being comfortable above-board, and the number of deprivations which they have to submit to when under board and overboard at the same time, they find there are worse situations than being on the deck of a vessel—we say privations when underboard, for they really are very impor tant —you are deprived of the air to breathe, which is not borne with patience even by a philosopher, and you are obliged to drink salt water instead of fresh. In the days of keel-hauling, the bottoms of vessels were not coppered, and in consequence were well stud ded with a species of shell fish which attach ed themselves, called barnacles ; and, _as these shells were all open-mouthed, and with sharp cutting points, those who underwent this punishment (for they were made by the ropes at each side, fastened to their arms, to hug the kelson of the vessel), were cut and scored all over their bodies, as if with so many lancets, generally coming up bleeding in every part, and their faces, especially their noses, as if they had been gnawed by the rats; but this was considered rather ad vantageous than otherwise, as the loss. of blood restored the patient if he was not quite drowned, and the consequence was, that one out of three, it is said, have been known to recover after this submarine excursion.— The Dutch have the credit, and we will not I attempt to take from them their undoubted PRICE THREE CENTS. right, of having invented this very agreea ble description of punishment. They are considered a heavy, phlegmatic sort of peo ple, but oa every point on which the art of ingeniously tormenting is in request, it must be admitted that they have taken the lead of much more vivacious and otherwise more in ventive nations. A 'Pirate’s Treasure.-—The Elgin Courier quotes the following singular story from a private letter, dated Antigua, 28lh November, 1851 : “There is nothing particular that I can mention, except a circumstance that occur red in St. John’s the other day. When Nel son was in the way of cruising about the West India Islands in quest of pirates, &c., two, who had given over the trade, with a negro slave, came to reside in Antigua with their spoil—three chests of Spanish dollars,' doubloons, &o. They purchased some pro perty here, and buried the treasure. One of them, after some time, poisoned the other; and the slave, afraid he might be the next victim, tied in an open boat, was taken by a slaver, and sold in one of the French islands, where, after some time, he married and had a son, to whom on his death bed he bequeath ed the secret. The son could never find means to escape, and had in like manner to hand it down to his son, who, after the eman cipation, managed to amass some money. He camo to Antigua a short time since, wish ing to purchase this property; but the per son to whom it belonged, intending to build upon it, would not sell it, although offered double the value for it; and, moreover, bad some suspicion that it was not merely for the ground that it was wanted. When the black saw that he could not get it by purchase, he called on the proprietor, and stating the case, requested one 'chest as his share if rhe information proved correct, which he would not accede to. He, however, went to work, and got the placed railed in, and dug over the ground; when lo ! two of the chests were found ; and a little girl in the house . happening to mention the fact that her mas ter used to dig in the yard all night, the thing got wind, and Government have pounced upon it, and are in search for the third chest, which is supposed to be under a stable that had been built in the place. 1 understand that the black will come in for a share, as there are some papers connected with it found beside the chests.” Danger of Kissing.—A few weeks ago, at a small public-house, within a short dis tance of Chiddingly, Eng , there was a bail given, or rather what, in the time of our grandfathers, would have been called a hop, an entertainment of real jovial life and hi larity. Dancing was carried forward with a zest not known at Almack’s, but fully ap predated by, the rustics «f this locality. To see Sal’s face and neck, after the fiddler had finished his “ Drops of Brandy,” was to see the counterpart of the rising sun of a misty morning—such was the glow of heat —such the dew-drops on the rose ; and the . hearty smack which each John gave his Jill as a finisher, caused the room to resound again Thus far all was delight, but in two or three days afterwards there was a sad change of scene. Almost without exception, the parties present lay on a bed of sickness ; small-pox had assailed them. It appears that a servant girl, one of the company, came over from Brighton to see her friends, and the day afterwards, was attacked with small-pox; doubtless, unknowingly, the in sidious poison was, while dancing, pervading her whole system, and from her the others must have received the contagion. The poor doctor, who attended her day after day, had his list of patients increased, and upon each application for his services the question was asked, “ Were you at the Yew Tree If the reply was in the affirmative, his rejoinder was, “ Then I know what is the matter ; you have got the small-pox.” Let this be a lesson, not to finish the dances with kissing, for there may bo poison on the lip. . Great Rush of Widows.—A London paper, not long since, related the following case of a great rush of widows, in answer to an advertisement, to the great consternation of a staid and respqptable citizen, and the amusement of the rabble:—“Mr. Stroud having occasion for a housekeeper, to super intend his domestic arrangements, advertis ed for ‘ a widow, or a widow and her daugh ter, to take charge of the upper part of a tradesman’s house, and to cook for him.’— The wages were stated to be £3O per annum, with coals, candles, &0., and application was directed to be made between eleven and three o’clock, on Tuesday, at No. 68 Tower street, Before the clock struck eleven, the widows began tq arrive, and soon the street was ren dered impassible by the number of fair ones crowding toward the house, and in a few mi nutes Mr. Stroud’s shop and parlor were fill ed with women, struggling to gain the attention of the advertiser, and clamorous ly setting forth their qualifications for the situation. A report soon got wind that Mr. Stroud bad advertised for a wife, and people flocked from all quarters to see the ladies in search of a husband. Tbe widows, young, middle-aged, the thin and stout, the dark and the fair, some in their weeds, others gai ly attired, and many poorly but decently clad, continued to arrive, and were greeted with laughter and shouts by the mob, who gave free vent to their jokes and ribaldry as the widows arrived and departed At length the confusion and noise became so great, that a posse of the city police were sent for, who preserved a little better order, and af forded free ingress and egress for the appli cants. Thrilling Incident.—Pres’t. Hitch cock, of Amherst College, in a letter to the Amherst Express, from Virginia, whether he accompanied Mr. Webster on his journey South, describing seme of the coal miners in that State, relates the following semi-tragic anecdote: “ Major W. related to us a very thrilling incident that took place in that vicinity some years ago, which he assured us was literally true. A hunter, one autumnal evening, eagerly following In the chase, found himself sliding down into an old abandoned coal pit, but, seizing the top of a bush as he slipped down the craggy sides, he hung dangling in the air over the black gulf, and felt con scious, from his knowledge of the place, that if he fell he must drop at least 200 feet and be dashed to pieces on the rocks beneath. He struggled in vain to regain a foothold; he heard the cry of a fellow hunter, and one of the hounds, as they bounded past He shouted with all his might, and the forest returned the echo, but no voice of rescue came with it. The wind whistled around him, and the moon shone upon his face, but they brought him no relief; his strength rapidly failed; he thought in agony of his family and friends, but he must die an awful death, and even his mangled body never be discovered. His mind became bewildered ; his muscles gave out, and down he wont— down—down —swifter and swifter—nor struck the bottom till he had reached the enormous depth of sta: inches.' Turks and Tea.—The following curious description of a Turkish tea-party is given on the authority of a recent traveller. The writer had just dined with the Turks and thought to give a treat in his turn :—“ As we had brought apparatus in our baggage, we now procured some hot water, and enter tained our hosts with a dish of tea, which they had heard of but never tasted. We sweetened a cup in the most approved man ner with sugar, aud softened it with milk, and then presented it. A Turk never takes anything of this kind but coffee without milk or sugar, which is as black, thick, and bitter as soot; when, therefore, he filled his mouth with the mawkish mixture we made for him, his distress was quite ridiculous. He could not swallow it, and he would not spit it out, for a Turk never spits in com pany ; so he kept it churning in his mouth, till he could keep it nolonger ; he then made a pretext for going out, which he did as fast as a Turk can move, and got rid of it over the stairs. When ho returned, however, he said the ladies of the harem requested to taste of our tea also. So we sent them in a specimen ; wo soon heard them bursting into loud fits of laughter at the extraordinary stuff; and we are informed they, liked it as little as the men.” Eve’s Apple.—There is a tree found in the Island of Ceylon, which bear’s the name of Eve’s Apple Tree. The apples on it are suspended by a long peduncle, or thread, and bob about in the air like cher ries, having a strong look of “Come eat me,” or at any rate, “Come feel me.” It is almost impossible to pass this curious production without taking hold of the vegetable ball, as it hangs at the end of the thread. Eve, it is but charitable to suppose, indulged in this natural and inevitable curiosity, and as the thread is exceedingly brittle, the apple came off in her hand, without her having any in tention to pluck it. Having plucked the fruit, she very naturally tasted it. Curiously enough, these apples all have the appearance as if a piece had been bitten out of them. They are poisonous, and some of the English soldiers in Ceylon died in con sequence of eating them. Glohious"Timi:r for the Ladies.— In the reign of Queen Margaret of Scotland, the Parliament passed an act that any maiden lady of high or low degree should have the liberty to choee for a husband the man on whom she set her fancy. If a man refused to marry her he was heavily fined, according to the value of his worldly possessions. The only ground of exemption was previous be trothal.