Newspaper Page Text
VOL. 7. NO. 19.
'A Story of New York at the Present Time LIFE AND ADVENTURES of JACK ENGLE: AN AUTO-BIOGRAPHY; IN WHICH THE REARER WILL FIND SOME FAMILIAR CHARACTERS. CHAPTER XIV. Retrospective. What I learn on another visit to Covert’s house. 1 return to the office, and get a letter. How the time rolled on! The summer was nearly over, when the engagement was made to go and see Wigglesworth, as men tioned in Chapter Thirteen, and I had been the bettor part of two years with Covert. 1 had passed Cape Twenty-one, in the moan time, and was now legally a man. Violet, the good soul, celebrated the event by a grand supper, to which came Tom Peterson, and seven or eight of my more intimate cro nies ; and you may be sure I did not forget Wigglesworth, although the latter Was quite infirm, nor the progressive Nathaniel, nor Jack either. Wigglesworth, poor fellow, in sisted upon repenting for his sins; but still he had been at the supper and was persuad ed into having a good time. I saw less of Inez than formerly, for she had taken up her permanent abode in half of Mrs. Fox’s cottage at Hoboken, where she amused herself with a garden and Nancy's children, of whom she was fond. Still I found time to make her an occasional visit. And whenever I went of a Sunday afternoon, which was my most frequent period of leisure, I was sure to bring home, for Violet, a huge bouquet; the source of which I made a great mystery of. And hence it came that Ephraim let oif many jokes, at which nobody laughed more heartily than himself. My good parents, all this while, had jogg ed on happily together, neither poor nor rich; although Ephraim had found it ne cessary to increase and enlarge his business, and the old milk depot was now transformed into quite an extensive provision or grocery store, doing a good business and bringing to us all a very fair income. Violet continued to help her husband about the store; for she would have it so, and could never, she said, bo contented unless she bad something stir ring and lively to employ her mind and body about. The excellent couple ; how really, and how simply, they enjoyed life. With all their in dustry they had a wise way of never getting excited, nor overworking themselves, nor crying over spilt milk—or as Ephraim pro fessionally used to say, sour milk. As for me, what little I had picked up of law, was of not much account. The lapse of time had never reconciled me to the profes sion ; although incidents and acquaintance and excitement, such as wo in Now York can easily meet with, diverted my attention from the despondency that began to come upon me when 1 had been a student for the first few weeks. Inez, too, had a share in rous ing my gayety, and the vivacity that always resides in young veins. My feelings toward the Spaniard could not be called by any means a profound love; at at least so it seemed to me. For the only test I could imagine, gave that supposition a denial - I imagined how I should feel if Inez were to leave the city and never return; and, much as I liked the girl, 1 felt that her departure wouldn’t break my heart. So 1 have picked up some threads of my story that had fallen away ; and find myself at the morning of the day, where I was to go that night, and see Wigglesworth. I had made an engagement to that effect, it will be remembered, two evenings before. This day was quite a day in my fortunes. First of all a discovery. Gould 1 mistake those affectionate eyes, and the nimble fing ers that had tied the handkerchief round poor Billjiggs’s broken head? There, too, was the very same placid expression, and the goodness of heart, and the willingness to oblige. Covert had been kept home by illness, and Wigglesworth being also absent, an unusual thing for him, I was under the necessity of going up to the lawyer’s house several times. One of these times, in the room whore I had to wait a while, there was an old portrait of a lady that seemed to me like one I had seen in a dream. It was a Quakeress, with the neat cap and neckerchief, painted with the man ner of looking at you, which gives such vi vidness to a really good portrait. A long long time this picture riveted my attention; and then the truth came upon me like a flash of light! That elderly lady—was it any one in the world but the hospitable nurse and helper of myself and my poor wounded friend, in the early times of my vagabondism ? There could be no mistaking it. And now like another flash, came upon my mind, the looks of the young woman, who had opened the door for me, the night of the electioneering meeting; and whoso face was then such a puzzle to me. She was the little girl of years before, remembered so well for a long time; indeed never forgotten; the little girl of the basement and the handker chief. If there were really anything in those hints of Wigglesworth, this, too, must be the orphan to whom he alluded. The whole affair assumed an interest; and I determin ed to seize the first chance of making the ac quaintance of the young Quakeress. I al ready knew that her name was Martha. Fortune favored me ; for Martha came in- to the room with her sewing basket, and telling me that Mr. Covert wished me to wait till he finished writing some papers which I was to take back to the office, she eat down, with one of those commonplace remarks about the weather, which are so of ten made in default of other conversational material. “Whose portrait is that ?” I asked. “That is a lady thee has never seen,” said Martha, “it is the portrait of Mrs. Covert, who died three years ago. I have reason to remember it. She was a second mother to mo ; and with her I passed, as a child, many happy years ” “You are mistaken about my never having seen her. And it is a good likeness.” The young woman looked up astonished ; and without more ado, I gave a rapid sketch of the scene in the basement, and asked her if she did not remember it. Yes, she re membered it quite well. “And was it thy wounded head I bound”’ “No ; 1 was the other little loafer.” “Ah, yes,; 1 remember, there were two boys Mrs. Covert and I often spoke of thee and thy friend afterward.” “Martha’s countenance grow animated, and we talked of the good lady awhile. She had been the owner of some little property, and that, advanced in life as she was, must have been her fascination to Covert. As Martha talked, the glow of feeling lit up her features, and she looked really beau tiful, At the same time, there wore traces of melancholy and lassitude about her, which I felt sorry to see. She avoided any refer ence to her father, except to toll me that her earliest childhood was passed with Mrs. Co vert, both parents having died while she was but a year or two old ; and of the latter she appeared to wish no inquiries about them. 1 saw that there was something connected with their history which made her withdraw from making any talk on the subject; for Martha’s face, to a very remarkable degree, was au almost provoking index to her heart and nature. It seemed, after all, strangers that we were until this moment, that we were not strangers either, in fact; but old acquaint ances. We fell at once into the friendly talk of persons who had that relation to each other. Martha told me that Covert was her guar dian ; that after her parents’ death she was * taken altogether to his house, where she had lived agreeably with the old lady, the only absenpo being that she spent four years at a girls’ boarding school. She spoke feelingly of Mrs. Covert's death, which had been a great trial to her. That she was not happy here now, what ever might have been the case, I was con vinced, from her demeanor and mode of an swering my half-interrogatories that way. For i had get so interested that I almost asked her. The door opened, and there, looking yel lower than ever, stood Mr. Covert in his dres sing gown. He paused a moment, his eyes bent hard at us ; and when he spoke there was more agitation, perhaps anger, in his tones than was usual tor him ; “What havo thee two to do or say togeth er i ’ Astonished at such abruptness, Martha dropped her work and looked at him in sur prise. For my part, it was only because the man was so unmistakably ill that I refrained from giving him a very summary reply. “Go Martha,” he said, “and, young man, 1 tell thee, there is good reason why theo should not be so friendly hero.” Martha rose hurriedly and, as she went out, I saw the unsuppressed tears falling rapidly from her eyes. “You are pleased to talk in a manner I cannot understand, sir,” said 1, angrily. “Doubtless, doubtless,” he answered, sit ting down, for he seemed to grow faint, “but thee can at least understand that 1 do not wish any intimacy between Martha and thee.” His eyes were bright with passion. Was it for me to bandy words with this sick man —and upon something it seemed as though wo neither of us knew what we were talking about ? I took the papers I had been waiting for, and left the house. 1 stopped by the way for an hour or more, to see Tom Peterson. Tom was by trade a machinist, and, young as he was, had arrived at the station of foreman in a large thrifty establishment, whose proprietors thought a good deal of him, and trusted him more than anyone else in their employ. Was it not that this manly trade, had something to do in forming my friend’s character ? I had a notion that way, and a vague feeling of the sort it was that had caused a good deal of my repugnance to the law. Tom had gone to his trade eight years be fore, from his own choice ; and he was now considered as thorough a workman as any in the land. He got good wages, and, as it was well understood that such a man as he could not be picked up everywhere, my friend was very independent, and demanded of the wealthy gentlemen who hired him, the same civility toward himself which ho invariably used towards them. You see Hike to talk about Tom Peterson. And, reader, it would have done you good had you known him. He was such a fine specimen of a young American machanic . ” i fold my meuTol my visit tbCo vert’s house, and of. Martha, and the lawyer's in dignation. “He’s a bad man,” rejoined Tom, bluntly, “and I tell you what, Jack, although it’s none of my business, if I,was you, I’d cut loose from him and his affairs as soon as pos sible. Rebecca Seligny is the sharpest woman to understand a fellow’s character that I ov er saw; and she despises him. Why the fellow, as sanctified as he looks, is carnal enough, according to her story. She is mad at the sound of his name. “ She likes you better,” said I, waggishly. “ Could she show a better sign of taste and judgment?” responded Tom. “But don’t let us say anything more about Rebecca. I expect we shall quarrel soon; for the dear girl is very exacting.” Tom’s advice was not so much, different from my own feelings, as to make me think no farther about it. And I had now begun to feel enough interested in Martha, to want to know something more, Nathaniel aad his dog stopped from their exercise—they had been commemorating the absence of ajll hands from business by run ning races up and down the walk in front— they stopped and came up stairs with me when I reached the office. “You return in good time, Don Cm ar,” said Nat, “for a messenger from the Prin cess has just loft this for you.” He gave me a note 1 thought the boy was fooling, and tossed it back to him. But he grew serious, and told me that it was brought but a moment before by a little darkey, who, in answer to Nat’s inquisitiveness, could only say that it was given to him by a young lady, with a shilling to bring it down as ad dressed. I opened it, and read as follows : “I write this immediately on your de parture. “ This no time to stand on ceremony ; and 1 will follow the impulse of my heart. Alas! I have so few friends that it will not do for me to lose the chance of one, although I may seem immodest in writing so. Few ? Where, indeed, have I any ? “ I atfi unhappy here, to a degree which I will not undertake to narrate upon paper. 1 was.muoh interested in your description of your adopted parents, Ephraim Foster and the good Violet. I wish to know them I wish to speak with them. “ I have not time to continue my discord ant note; but come at once to the point. Will you for I must ask it will you, un less you hear from me again, call for me. to morrow evening, and show me to Foster’s house, and introduce me to him and his Wife ? “ You will then learn the reason of my singular request. M ” At dinner time, I showed this note to Vio let and prepared her for the visit. Her motherly heart always warmed toward those who had fallen in distress ; and it was plain that poor Martha was suffering under troubles of no ordinary character. CHAPTER XV. A strange history revealed. — Mr. Covert's conduct accounted for. I could only sit and Us tan, without saying a word, then; for such a web of villainy and romance quite took away my breath! Was my mind under the influence of no dream ? Had I not been overpowered with some work of fiction ? No. I looked deliberately about the little attic bedroom; and there was the high window, and on another side Wiggles worth’s lank bed, with its check coverlid; and near by the antiquated washstand, and the table by which we sat, and on which lay a package of manuscript; and, leaning against the wall an odd chair, and all lit up by the lamp giving its -flickering light. And there in the kind of seat called a Boston rocker, sat poor old Wigglesworth himself. Although he had been out that afternoon, towards dark, and had a long in terview with Martha, it was more than he ought to have done, I was quite shocked with the ghastly appearance of the poor old man, and his lurid and bloodshot eyes! He ceuld not be long for this world. Indeed he told me he didn’t think he should have lived till the present hour, except that he thought he had one work to perform And he couldn’t rest in peace, if it was not done. “ I tell you Jack,” said he, excitedly, “ this is all that has kept me up for a long while past. As for my body, it gave out months ago. It is dead I tell you; yon can see that for yourself.” Poor creature! you did look more like a corpse, that moment, than a living being. “The mind, Jack,” the old man went on, “ I never before thought it had such wonder ful power, But I resolved to live until I had unravelled the web of deviltry which, as I have told you, I providentially got the clue of; I determined that I would last till this revelation could be made —was made. And now, 0 my God, I thank thee !” Ho motioned to me to hand him a glass of water from the stand. When he had taken it, ho continued : ' “ You will know without my telling you, that I soon after my engagement in his office found out Covert to be a villain. I knew, too, that he had, as Martha’s guardian, con trol over quite an extensive property; but, bad as he was at heart, X did not until lately believe him so utterly vile as not only to de fraud her of her inheritance, but to make that friendless girl a victim to his licentious passions ” I started. And now, ah ! I began to see the meaning of Martha’s note, and its hidden allusions. Wigglesworth went on : “ Martha’s affairs involve a peculiar his tory, extending many years back The package on the table there was written by her father—written in prison, where he was confined for a terrible crime done in the heat of passion. That crime, with his im prisonment, and his death, could not but ex ercise a gloomy effect upon her; although she was an infant when they occurred. “ Poor girl! the more I have learned the more I am interested about her; and this afternoon’s interview with her decided me to unburthen the whole mat ter, without any reserve, to you. It was for the better understanding of it all, that Martha gave me her father’s story, prepared by himself, which reached her from a trusty i source, some time since, and which she has kept, unknown to Covert. Take this pack et, then Jack; but do not read it tilt you , have leisure to weigh well what you read. Some evening let it be, when you are alone, , for there is weighty stuff in it. And though you already know the particulars which are contained in it, you have perhaps a right to hear the witness of him wno made you fath erless, and to know how deeply he repented and suffered for it.” , Truly it was more like romance than sober life, in a dwelling in one of the streets ol this matter-of fact city. And, after I had buttoned the manuscript in my breast pocket, i I had to thump there from time to time, tt i convince myself that 1 was really awake. ) As I rose to bid him good night, Wiggles worth took my hand between his, and 1 fell those feeble palms, thin and cold! “ Jack,” said he, “do not think 1 wander i, in ray thoughts ; but I know that I have no many days, perhaps many hours, more ti 5 live. 1 have left some few directions witl t -the landlord who keeps this place. He is ai honest man whom I have known for years , and lam sure he will obey them faithfully 3 Yon will think me something of an aristocrat ,1 ack, but I wish to be buried in my mother’ t vault —she was of the old English stock, th r early ones here, Jack—in Trinity church yard. That will cost money, too, as the oit; [ regulations are now; but I have long provi tied for that, and my landlord, who know - my wish, is my banker. You shall go wit t my old friend-—probably, indeed, none bn t you two -and see that my shattered hulk i ’ put away there, according to my wish, Wil s you not, Jack ?” a 1 strove, although it went somewhat against It the grain, for I felt a profound sadness ; g strove to answer in a cheerful manner, an told him that we might have many a pleat ■, ant supper together yet, and that he woul get over his illness and come out a new mat », | The old clerk made no response, for he sa that my cheerfulness was labored. That chilling, feeble pressure of his thin, pulseless hands, at parting : it sends a palsy through me, as I remember it, now. Only when I got out in the cool open air, and slowly, very slowly, took my way home, did the information I had gathered that eve ning take consistent form and shape, and spread out before me in such a manner that 1 could realize, and bring it home to myself, as a tangible history. To myself! Yes.it concerned me, as near ly as the young Quakeress, of whom Covert was the guardian Strange that our inter ests were, after all, so closely connected to gether. And not only our interests but our very lives—bound by a doubly-solemn tie. Yes, myself! From what Wigglesworth had gathered, lat last knew of myself. The old man had been indefatigable ; and truly, as he said, for the last few months, he had lived but for hardly any other purpose than to investigate and make plain the mystery. He had even, by dint of the closest inquiry, going backward many years, sought out the whereabouts and particulars of the strange visitors, who, years before, boarded with Calvin Peterson, and whoso visit to Ephraim’s and real or apparent knowledge of me and my origin, I have mentioned in a former chapter. This man, Wigglesworth pursued the track of: he discovered the place to which he sailed; and that he had settled there, and was living there yet. The old clerk entered into correspondence with him, and his information corroborated what he had In many other ways—in every way—by examining the records of courts —by retro spective searches in every quarter—the ar dent old man had come to such a state of certainty as to leave no room for doubt or disbelief. Moreover, acoonlpanying the man uscript which he gave me, were papers that fortified to a point of positive proof, every point of the following strange narrative. Martha’s father was a young man of what the followers of Penn calls the World’s Peo ple ; it was only her mother who belonged to the Quaker sect. The match, however, was one altogether for love. They had no other child but the little girl. They were possess ed of very considerable wealth, and lived in comfortable style, in a house he owned, just near enough to the great metropolis to give him all the advantages of its luxuries and its intellectual enjoyments, and just far enough away for him to possess the pleasures of country freedom and space. For the hus band was a man of same literary taste, and, young as he was, he had seen much of the world, having travelled both abroad and in America. Like the blast of death, or the trumpet of the destroying angel, there came, in the twinkling of an eye, something that destroy ed at once all these blessings, present and in perspective! A horrible occurrence, none the less dead ly in its consequences because it was partly the result of one of those fearful and acci dental liabilities to which any man, op fam ily, might be subject, came to wither the happiness of a loving husband and wife; and have a future effect on a beautiful and inno cent little child! The husband and wife bent to the destructive blow, and lifted not their heads from the ground—in which they sought nothing better than quiet graves. The child was too young to feel the horror that overwhelmed her parents. She grew up under other fostering care, into the beautiful and tender-uatured. but still bold and ener getic, Martha. This fearful thing wjs, that the husband, in a moment of excessive irritation, struck one of his workmen, who had somehow of fended him, a deadly blow on the head. It caused death—and that death, by a coinci dence that made my blood chill—was noth ing less than the death of my own father ! Again 1 had to connect in my mind, link by link, the inevitable chain of evidence that Wigglosworth had gathered, before I could believe any thing so much like romance The murderer was arrested, put in eon tinement, and, in due time, arrived the day appointed for his trial. But that day he never saw. He was in prison but a few hours, when his young wife, overwhelmed, with these dismal misfortunes, died of a broken heart. And, after that, he sank, slowly but surely, into decay; and only asked to be buried by her side. Yet, during the days before his death, his mind, whioh seemed to have been of great arrangedlifs worldly affairs with great cir cumspection, drew up most of his own papers under legal advice, and had them properly certified and recorded. He made his will, in whioh he did not forget the offspring of the poor workman, his victim It is useless to deny that I both look upon the slain man, and feel toward him, nothing more than as I would look upon the same gloomy fate, be falling a stranger. And is it wonuerful that it is so ? He was, indeed, though my parent, really a stranger Our feelings are the creatures of association and education; and, even while my brain felt the shock, through sympathy, that must have followed all those events, I thought of them more as a listener to the story, than as one having any special point of interest that came home pointedly to me. And, reader, that is the way I feel about it to this day. I will have the merit of can dor, if I have not of sensitive feelings. The day appointed for the trial, found the accused man before a higher tribunal than any here on earth. It was the day on which lie was buried by the side of his wife; and then the affair, which had been much talked about, and will even now be remembered by some perhaps who read these lines, dropped away gradually from the public mind. It so happened that the principal legal adviser for Martha’s father, during the lew weeks of his'imprisonment, was Covert, then j ust commencing the practice of the profes sion. He so wrought upon the young man’s mind, distracted with his condition, as to bo appointed gustrdian of bis infant daughter, and to get the general control of his estate. Although the father was prudent enough to put certain checks on Covert’s movements, and effect, to some extent, a superior control over that cunning villain; the main object of which had been for many years, on the part of the lawyer, to circumvent and get out of the way, Calvin Peterson's pious boarder, who had come to see me atEphriam’s, was my father’s brother. One of his answers to Wigglesworth, stated that my mother’s death took place a year or two before my father was killed; and that I was their only child. By the copies of documents which Wig glesworth put me in possession of, it ap peared that the will of Martha’s father di rected the settlement of one third of his for tune upon the offspring of, as he termed it, his victim. This item, and the specific direc tions regarding It, appeared to have been prepared and recorded with all the fore thought which characterized the arrange ment of his other affairs. Covert, undoubtedly, at some pains and care to himself, kept this point a secret. For he was made thoroughly aware of the wishes of the unfortunate gentleman, and of the fact that the slain workman bad a little child, who would be turned loose upon the world unoared for. That he wished the sole management of the property, intending it should eventually come into his own hands, was enough to make him lie low, in the beginning. It was also enough, afterwards,jwhen he learned, as he did learn, tnat the little lost waif had turned up in the student of his own office, to make him continue the game of deceit and falsefaocdness. Undoubtedly, after my father’s death —for 1 was too little to remember any thing at all about it —I had been turned from door to door, in some way escaping the cold chari ties of the alms-house, as I was, it seems, not absolutely without the power of locomo tion. But }. have already treated to a suf ficient degree on that part of my history; and, if there is any thing more wanting, the reader must supply it from his or her im agination. CHAPTER XVI. What was determined on in a family council. The next day, which was Sunday, like a fellow who is burthened with more than he can carry, 1 took Tom Peterson into my con fidence, and told him the whole of the events and revelations of the night before Tom opened his eyes, when he found out that I was really serious. I had already imparted all of them to Violet and Ephraim; who were confounded beyond measure and wished to refleet the whole day before concluding what course to take. It was a pleasant Sunday forenoon, and Tom and 1 crossed the North River, to Hobo ken, and strolled along to Inez'cottage A sudden thought seized me, as I saw the hap py and lovely appearance of that little dwel ling, where the joint labors of Inez, Nancy, and four or five out of the eight little Poxes, had caused vines to bloom, and pleasant shrubbery, and some late flowers that were quite gay, even at this advanced season. — Nancy herself was out there in front, and welcomed me, and told me to go up at once in the second story, and make myself and my friend at home in Inez - sitting room. Verily this was a day of telling news, and making confidants For L again went oyer the whole history of Martha, to the dancing girl, and asked her whether, in case it was necessary, she would take the Quakeress under her protection and hospitality for a short time. “That I will,” said she, with spirit, “find if Mr. Covert dares set his foot here, against the young woman’s will, Nancy and I will NEW YORK, SUNDAY MORNING, APRIL 4, 1852. salute him with such a reception that he won’t forget us, years to come ” 1 told Inez that I might require her to make her words good ; and that if so, I would give her due warning. She told mo not to bo afraid of calling in her assistance; and that she only wanted a good chance to take a lit tle revenge on Covert for his intentions to ward her spare cash. It seemed that it was somewhat as I sus pected when Inez came down to the office, many months before. The shrewd Spaniard, from some cause or other, had her suspi cious aroused, waited a few weeks before purchasing the stock which Covert recom mended, and in which Ferris was interested, and then a few weeks longer ; and then had the satisfaction to read in the papers how the whole edifice, stock and all, of Mr. Peppe rich Ferris’s wonderful company had tumbl ed to the ground—and how luckily her dol lars just escaped! You may be sure, the mettlesome Spaniard had fire enough in her veins to resent the deliberate design of cheating her, al most as much as if it had been successfully accomplished. For that it was a deliberate design, there could be no dispute. Even Mr, ,J. Fitzmore Smytthe came in for his share of the high-strung girl’s displea sure. And, at his next visit, Inez saluted him with such a voluble and fiery tongue, that this genteel and taciturn individual was fain to put his fingers in his ears and beat a retreat in double quick time. That ho had received We walking papers, however, was a work of special grace to me ; 1 by no moans mourned his absence from Inez’s rooms when I visited there; considering in such oases that two made a much pleasanter party than three. When we returned to Now York, I bespoke the services of Tom Peterson, too; for I had a scheme in my head. Tom promised to do anything for me, from tossing Covert out of his own window to holding the light while 1 wrote him a challenge. When Martha, that night, under my charge, according to the request made in her note, left Covert’s house—he was confined to his room yet, fortunately—l felt that it would perhaps be better for her to go back no more. She was now free from the wretch’s premises, and why should she place herself in his power again ? K I proposed this, in full family council; and it was considered favorably, until Martha herself put the negative on it. She said that it was her intention to leave, but not to night. She knew, too, that she would be under the necessity of leaving clandestinely; for Covert had all the restlessness and sus picion of a guilty mind. An additional reason was that there were sundry articles, and some important documents which she must take away with her when she did go. * For Couert had not all the cunning of the game on his side. Wigglesworth and the young Quakeress, during the three days past, had made some master-moves; and, deep as I knew the lawyer to be, it seemed, when I heard all, that they were likely to counter mine him. Above all, they W-l tko U.1V.1T1 1,- age of working unknown to him. Little did the scamp suspect that, all the while he was tied there to his bed-side, the girl whom he looked upon as his helpless victim, and whom the disgusting brute intended as his victim in a doable sense, wag quietly, with the in- I valuable help of his clerk, who know more about his affairs than any other person—was quietly, I say, digging the very ground from under his feet. It had been the lawyer’s policy, by slow degrees to get the property which was left by Martha’s father, to be made use of as di rected in his will; this property it was Co vert’s design, steadily pursued, year after year, to get transformed into paper repre sentatives, such as government or state bonds, certificates of deposite, and so forth. Indeed, it was the persevering and mysteri ous course of this proceeding that aroused Wigglesworth's first suspicions; he knew that the property belonged to Martha, that it was at first well aud reliably invested; and that, in being sold, it was frequently sacrificed, and a loss suffered on the second purchase, without any gain. As to Martha, she was ignorant of business, and without knowing why or wherefore, signed almost every paper that Covert presented to her. The best and most important move of all, was, that Wigglesworth had made use of his knowledge of Covert’s affairs, to give Martha such instructions and such a description of they were undeniably hers—that she had found out where the lawyer kept them intis house, and was prepared to pounce upon and take possession of them, when she got a good opportunity, and bear them off. A woman and a lawyer’s clerk, have they not some sharpness ? All these things being discussed in the family council, it was determined that there was no time to be lost. Covert might dis cover the plans that were making headway against his vile machinations, and use his lawyer tricks in such a way aa to stop us all off. We decided therefore that Martha should leave his house, for good, the next night, Violet and Ephraim would willingly have had her take up her abode with them; but it was thought best, instead, to accept the offer of Inez, which I mentioned, and whom I promised to notify the next day These points were conned over and decided in short metre ; for Martha was to be home again at nine o’clock. When I waited upon her back, I told her I hoped she would not be discouraged, nor fail me, at the appoint ed time, which we purposely put at midnight for greater security. The stout-hearted girl assured me that if she were living it should be as we had planned it out, unless our plans failed by moans other than any that depend ed on her. My sleep was disturbed that night by Mar tha’s fortunes ; and I half-dreamed of the homicide in which our two different parents had played so sad a part. I forgot to say that Martha herself had not yet learned of my being the son of her father’s victim. I had charged Ephraim and Violet to be care ful of mentioning this to her. Wigglesworth I knew would not. Among the first things I attended to, next forenoon, were, the dispatching of a note to Inez by a trusty hand, and then calling on Tom Peterson, whose help I engaged in a way that we shall understand by and by. I asked Nathaniel if I could have his assistance that evening carrying off a prin cess from’a tormenting monster. The young gentleman informed me that whatever man dared he would dare. I told him I was serious. As for him, he but loved too well any thing in the shape of an adventure, especially if it was to be on my rosponsibil ity. I would have felt some qualms about steal ing Martha away in this manner, if 1 hadn’t been so sure that subtlety must be opposed to subtlety; and that, if Covert had any thing like open and premature defiance he would in all likelihood outwit us all. But once safely away, Martha in possession of the afore-mentioned valuable papers and bonds, I felt that wo could make a stout fight against him. Besides, I had the array of documents, and an index of scores more to prove, if the event needed, the thorough ness and veracity of my narration. These Wigglesworth had given me, the evening of our memorable interview. Poor old man ! I stepped up a moment to see him. He lay on his narrow bed, without uttering a word, and looking wan, and wast ed to a skeleton, but still with an expression of peace in his countenance. I bid him a mental farewell, for I doubted whether I should ever see him alive again. CHAPTER XVII. An escape attempted, and what happened during the same. The appointed hour arrived, and there 1 was ready—ready, and away with my prize ! Martha, I saw by the flashing of a lamp as we passed, looked as pale as ashes; but there could be no mistaking the resolution, amount ing to sternness, in her eyes. Her compress ed lips, too, and that whole expression of her features, were so unusual as to give her an appearance I had never remarked in her be fore. Could the gentle Quaker girl, indeed, have all this time, contained such elements of spirit and promptitude ? I had not un derstood her properly, that was certain. Nat hurried to us, from the corner near by, where he had been waiting. Ho had his dog Jack with him, and the' two, with a cer tain activity, were more quiet than usual for them. “Mr. Peterson and I’ve got the boat wait ing,” said Nat, “ and we'll soon row you over.” . T As for that, if it wore necessary, I could take a hand myself, thanks to the practice which most New York boys get along her docks and shores. Nat told us that he had almost given us up, and was just on the point of depanure. He supposed that some unforeseen obstacle intervened, and Martha’s flight had been postponed to a more convenient season. Martha’s bundle; I gave it to Nat with a great caution of its importance. We hurried rapidly along the streets, Mar that bolding to my arm, though she needed little support: for the brave girl felt in this emergency of her life, as she afterward told me, fully capable of taking her own part, even should some still more eventful crisis occur, and she become deprived of my sup- Nat, carrying the parcel which Martha had brought away, was the only cause I had for disturbance. Our quick steps, and a certain flutter which could not be avoided, in our de meanor. joined with this parcel, I feared, might arouse the inquisitive suspicions of the watchmen. lat first thought of direct ing Nat to keep some distance behind us; but as we didn't know exactly the locality of the dock wlerc, as he informed us, the boat lay; and indeed, as we took our course from street to street and hurriedly around corner after corner, without settled plan—there was no other war than to stick together and run our chances. • “ What is your hurry, neighbors I” salut «d our ears, as a watchman stepped out from tie doorway of a corner grocery we were winding by. He marched right in front of us and block ed our way, I coked him as coolly as I could in the face, vnd asked him what he meant by stop ping ui in that manner. “ No offence,” said he, “ only I always try to do my duty.” “ Well what has your duty to do with us?” “ Perhaps nothing, and then, again, per haps stmething,” was his answer. I suppressed my annoyance as well as 1 could. Then Martha, with woman’s instinct, remark'd, with a quiet tone ; “ Now friend, do not prevent us ; but take this shiling and refresh thyself with some oolfee, art lot us go on our way peaceably.” The geitlc voice of Martha, whose manner showed he to be so different from what the guardian cf the night no doubt supposed, reassured fim probably more than the coin, and he said be did not mean any harm, but he had to lo«k out and do his duty. We hurried. on as before, and worn within a couple of squares °f the river, when we were suddenly stopped, from behind, by two watchmen, one of whom laid a hand firmly on my shoulder. “ What’s your hu-ry, this dark night ?” he said coolly. I didn’t like his tme at all. If there be any thing in a man’i voice to judge his in tentions by, he was a different fellow from the one whose good (ffioes we had escaped, a few minutes before Besides, there were two of ’em ; and, in inch a case, a little gra tuity was not likely to have any effect. “ What have you ii that bundle ?” said he to Nat. I felt Martha’s am tremble a little, but she answered distinctly. “ The young man tarries some clothing and other things, that bdong to me.” “ Are you sure tiny have always belonged to you ?” he. “ Perfectly sure,” said Martha, with a self possession that fully equalled that of her in terrogator. “ And what is your name ?” he asked again. Martha made no ansver to this question ; and there was a pause, which I felt to be an awkward one. “ That can be of little consequence,” said I, “ and you must excuse her from answering your question.” “There’s no harm, or disgrace, in honest men, or women cither, telling their names,” said he, peering sharply into Martha’s face. She stood his look without wincing, but still made no reply. “ Ladies do not care ab'-aV ——TT Wr to all people, honest and delicate as they may be,” said I tv* want of something bet ter to sav / wit I will cheerfully give you my address.” He took the parcel from Nat, although that young gentleman showed signs of a somewhat pugnacious spirit, and refused at iirst to give it up, preferring, as ho said, to keep it in his own possession, until demanded by some authority having a proper right. But 1 signed to him to make no opposition, as I supposed the officer merely wished to see if there were any special evidences where from he might come at once to some judg ment on the good or bad ground of his sus picions The bundle bad been put up in haste, and so far went to justify an inference unfortu nate to us. But it appeared to satisfy him that it contained no articles of weight; and he after balancing it a moment in his hands, feeling of it, and turning it over, returned it to Nathaniel. The boy took it angrily, and favored him with a scowl which would have been appropriate enough in deep trage dy. The watchman, however, paid not the smallest attention to the angry youngster. “ Remain a moment just as you are,” said ho ; and stepped a couple of paces aside, and conferred with his companion Wc felt that it would not be safe to pur sue any other course than the one which was feasibility of or attempting it; but there was more dan ger than chance of success in that; and wc relinquished it. The one who had first spoken then stepped back, the silent gentle man appearing to leave everything to the direction of the other : “You are probably very honest people,” said he, “and as good as lam myself. But I think it best for you to go with me to the police quarters on the next block ; you will not, I think, have to stay more than a few minutes. At least I hope so.” I commenced to remonstrate with him, hut ho was firm. There was nothing left us, but to follow his orders. Even now, although the circumstances would seem to be enough to try the temper of a strong-minded man, I could sec no signs of alarm or disturbance on Martha’s part She clung a little closer to me, but her look was as composed and her walk just as even and self-reliant, as before. Master Nat, however, did not by any means take it so philosophically. Ho declined going at all, and there seemed some chance of a disturbance; for the officers turned sternly to him, aud cue of them raised his arm. Jack growled and erected the hair of his neck. A moment more, and there would probably have been a fight; for when Nat’s blood was up, and Jack’s too, they would have made battle with St. George’s dragon himself. “ What,” said Martha, stepping to the boy, and, as she stood between him and the con stable, laying her hand on his shoulder, “theewill not desert us now, when wo want thy help the most.” It was enough. The premeditated tempest was quelled. Nat picked up the parcel from where it dropped on the flag stones, tucked it under his arm, chirped for the dog to fol low him, and without a word further trudg ed, with oast-down eyes, to meet the same fate as ours The distance to the police station was soon reached, and we entered the front way, pass ed through to the back room, and there waited the pleasure of our captors. Two or three half-dozing men were on a wooden settee in the room. One of them rose and civilly brought a chair for Martha, who sat down I stood with my hands on the back of the chair, not feeling very well at ease. Nathaniel rested himself on a stool near by, and Jack, evidently aware that there was now leisure for it, stretched himself at full length on the floor, and had a good time with his head between his fore-paws. To be Continued. Buried Alive.; —The last number ol'the London Weekly Times relates the following singular story. An officer of artillery, a man of gigantic stature and of robust health, being thrown from an unmanageable horse, received a very severe contusion upon the head, which rendered him insensible at once. The skull was slightly fractured; but no im mediate danger wag apprehended. Trepan ning was accomplished successfully. He was bled, and many other of the ordinary means of relief were adopted. Q radually, however, he fell into a more and more hopeless state of stupor; and, finally, it was thought that he died. The weather was warm; and he was buried, with indecent haste, in one of the public cemeteries. His funeral took place on Thursday. On the Sunday following, the grounds of the cemetery were, as usual, much thronged with visitors; and, about noon, an intense excitement was created by the declaration of a peasant, that, while he was sitting upon the grave of the officer, he had distinctly felt a commotion of the earth, as if occasioned by some one struggling be neath. At first, little attention was paid to the man’s asseveration ; but his evident ter ror, and the dogged obstinacy with which he persisted in his story, had at length their natural effect upon the crowd. Spades wore hurriedly procured, and the grave, which was shamefully shallow, was, in a few min utes, so far thrown open that the head of its occupant appeared. He was then seemingly dead; but he sat nearly erect within his coffin, the lid of which, in bis furious strug gles, he had partially uplifted. He was forthwith conveyed to i.he nearest hospital, and there pronounced to he still living, al though in an asphy tic condition. After some hours he revived, recognised individuals of his acquaintance, and, in broken sentences, spoke of his agonies in the grave. From what he related, it. was clear that he must have been conscious of life for more than an hour, while inhumed, before lapsing into in sensibility. Tho grave was carelessly and loosely filled with a loose, porous soil; and thus some air was necessarily admitted. Ho heard the footsteps of the crowd overhead, and endeavored to make himself heard in turn It was the tumult, within the grounds of the cemetery, he said, which appeared to awaken him from a deep sleep; but no sooner was he awake than be became fully aware of the awful horrors of his position. Mendicants.—Generally speaking, a man who gives to a street beggar, does harm instead of good. They are almost invariably imposters, who are unwilling to work, and whose woeful stories are fictitious, invented to excite sympathy. A man may benefit himself by yielding to generous and charita ble impulses, but he rarely docs otherwise than injure society by encouraging the beg gars of our cities. MODERN MFSTERIES. Under this head we shall endeavor, as promised last week, to elucidate so far as we are capable, or our present knowl edge permit, the various phenomena which have, and are daily, occupying a large space of the public attention, under the various designations of Electrical Effects, Biology, Psycology, Clairvoyance, Superior Condition and Spiritual Manifestations. However much the unthinking or the nar row-minded may scout at the independent productions of any of the above named phe nomena—attributing the astonishing effects produced or observable to collusion, fraud, humbug, or weakness of mind, they arenev ertheless remarkable. We shall not at this period of our investigations—necessarily cir cumscribed as they are-attempt to prove, nor yet condemn, the pretensions set up by their advocates. Occupying a middle ground, we shall dis cuss impartially whatever may be presented of sufficient worth or interest to the reader. These phenomena challenge attention and inquiry. They are too violent as contrasted with our preconceived ideas and operations of present known laws, to be readily accredited even by the most impressible mind. In an that improper or exaggerated manifesta tions will be favorably received, unless the most irrefragable proofs arc brought to bear in favor of these extraordinary psycical ex periments. Thousands have witnessed in this city, and elsewhere, under the titles of Psycology, Mental Alchemy, or Biology, psy cic manifestations which, if they had been related by a traveller as having occurred in a far distant and not frequently visited country, they would be set down as off springs of a lively or fertile imagination. But having observed effects produced from the action of certain known causes, in our midst, we are prepared to believe that which our eyes really and truthfully have seen. Knowing that certain laws if properly em ployed will produce positive effects, we shall endeavor to explain their modus operandi, sufficiently for any individual to, equally with the most experienced teachers, induce the end aimed at. Fifty years ago, a man who would dare, in a public assemblage to exhibit before thousands,—as did Professor Williams at Me tropolitan Hall—would have been set down as a necromancer, or one in league with Sa yan. Probably the majority of those who were present, when they first noticed the ■“T''**"* —— - ■ - by this Williams, wore incredulous, and im mediately assigned as the cause, collusion. But gradually as they saw friend after friend brought under the control of the oper ator, their incredibility gave way to astonish ment, and astonishment to the certainty, that as there could possibly be no collusion between the manipulator and the patient, the effect must necessarily be assigned to some unknown, positive, but not recognized law. So with reference to clairvoyance, and the still higher development of the same law which governs the mind in its terrestial in quiries, and the soul in its celestial commu nings. Let us theu examine the various phenom ena which have thus far been developed, throwing all mysticism or deception aside we shall find they are referable to a posi- tive law, which, although to us but partially developed, has existed since creation came perfect from the hands of the Divine Archi- tect. Let us attempt an explanation. Let us follow briefly, step by step, the various manifestations exhibited to our sensuous na tures, not only on this glorious orb which we w* through the heavens, where are set me stars 01 Wmu »o usu siont and immortal souls as those who live, and move and have their being here. Let us take a retrospective glance, and endeavor to solve the enigma presented for solu tion. Let us rend the garments of prejudice and scholastic bigotry to the end that free and unbiassed, we may boldly enter the por tals of Nature to her very arcana. Let us divest ourselves of the depressing theological dogmas which vain speculators have reared into a tower more cumbrous and terrible in its moral aspects than even that juggernau ts car which but bodily crushes its thou sands of infatuated victims as a religious observance. Let us commence then with the beginning. Let us suppose that ere earth rose out of chaos; before the fiat of the Al mighty went forth, ordaining creation—that space, in all its infinitude, had not a solitary globe in its depths on which the form of man stood erect—lot us presume that a subtle imponderable clement pervaded the immeas urable—that this element ever waved and rolled bright and beautiful, and that as it was moved upon by the Divine will it grad ually became more perfect and condensed, until, in the cycle of rolling ages, it assumed a spherical form, and that as it cooled, the surrounding atmosphere became purer and better adapted to vegetable and other organ- izations, which the earth was destined in due season to conceive and bring forth.— Finally, where waved lines of lurid electri city, rolled a ponderable, consistent globe, composed of the bright particles which erst scintillated and glowed in the realms of eter nity—and this orb prepared, gave forth af ter the consummation of years unnumbered, from the vitalizing law implanted into its very and primary organization, we shall then conclude that from its rocky beds sprung the rudimental element* of those herbaceous kingdoms which new give beauty to the land scape, lucidity to the atmosphere, perfection to organization, and a soul to God. By the same electrical and potent law, out of the vegetable kingdom arose the animal, and out of the animal, the coronal and microcosm of all creation—the rudimental candidate for eternity—the end of the cause—the fulfil ment of the law—the use of the purpose— the developed man —the Son of God, the heir to eternity. Eleotrioity was, under tho Divine will, the parent and actuating cause of the manifold and beautiful effects which we all see in and around us. It is, therefore, fair to suppose that if, previous to creation, tho void was filled with gross elecsrical elements, and that from these rolled out the earth, with all of its perfect creations, exhibiting to man the glories of it and hit nature—the parent and vitalizing forces being galvanism that man’s soul is then of the same element hut far more subtilized, to that which en ters largely into and composes his material organization. We have presented the above but imper fectly. Our leading object is to enquire more particularly into the causes which produce psyoio and mediatorial conditions. We will therefore assume that man is physically and psyoically an electrical organization, h ! ghly, perfectly and purely developed. The cranium being filled with an aggregation of the ends or roots of the nervous system; those nerves may bo divided into classes, voluntary and involuntary, or the nerves of sensation and force. The brain is a battery in which is generated that vitalizing and highly rarified and imponderable fluid known, for want of a better name, as tho electrical or udic ele ment. This odio fores, under the control of the soul, enters into and performs the most secret offices of tho body, and, although it is not life, it is still an indispensable accessory to and servant of that, higher organization of the body, known as tho soul. What is i.hc highest expression of a positive soul? Winn, divine, determined, all powerful wmn; and this wmn acting upon a soul of negative power, by ethereal and highly rarified eleotrioity passing directly from the eye of the operator, produces upon his patient im pressions which are allied to, if they are not in and of, the psyoio power,'* The eloquent » “1 have known (nays Ur. Ashburner in the bodfleld edition of Keohonbaoh’s Dynamic's,) at least, fifty persons who have sem a grey sil very, or a bine light emanating from my band and fingers, whan they have been wide awake I UaVB kno.rn si great many p .roans who having been put into mesmeric sleep h ive denla.td that they have seen blue light issuing in copious streams from my eyes, when I have concentrated my thoughts in the acts of volition or study. This is so oommon, that as the investigations in o mesmerism proceed, 1 know there must he speaker, through this power, sways an audi ence to and fro lik. the laboring barque in a rough sea If he so wills, he may move them to tears or excite them to laughter, by thoughts sent forth on the wings of electri city, and which cease not their flight until they have found a resting place in the minds of his sympathizing and excited lis teners. The clergyman calls to repentance with the same terrible and irresistible law.f The physician, perhaps totally ignorant of the power he possesses, acting positively up on a bed-ridden patient, often raises the in valid as if by magio, when the potency of medicine was doubted, and by a wave of the hand and glance from his eye, rescues the sick man from the very threshhold .of the grave. Ignorant of this electrical law, which, in his extremity, he resorted to, he attributes the cure to crude causes, totally insufficient to produce the effect desired when employed on other sufferers. Is it to be wondered at then, that a strong positive bat tery acting through the ulnar, median or optic nerve, can control a patient far be neath him in mental resolution, in indomita ble will ? In order to illustrate the manner in which these astonishing effects are pro duced by an accomplished operator, wo ex tract the following passages from the Elev-. chology,” and in which the whole mystery, as exhibited by Williams and others, is plainly and cnderstandingly treated : “ Before I proceed to notice the most easy, sure, and direct mode by which an electro psychological communication may be estab lished, I will, in the first place, speak of the philosophy of communication in general. It is evident that the positive and negative forces of the two electricities prevade all nature. These I call in my seventh Lecture the male and female electricities. These two forces not only permeate, more or less, all substances in nature, but they also un ceasingly emanate from them in electric cir cles. Hence, as man is a part of the uni verse, he constantly takes into his system large portions of electricity with the air he inspires, with the water he drinks, and with the food he eats. And by mental and mus cular action, and the common operations of animal life, he unconsciously throws it off through the nervous force. On passing from his system into the surrounding elements, it forms around him his electric or magnetic circle. How large this circle may be* is as yet to us unknown Hence, when two in dividuals come within a certain distance of each other, their circles meet, and touch each other at two points. And if one of these individuals is in the electro-psycholog ical state, the communication will be taken through the positive and negative forces. And though this communication was taken without personal contact, yet it was done dividifalism or personal identity. A com munication in this manner can be established with those persons only who are very sensi tive. As only about one in twenty-five is naturally in this state, so I can step before an audience of a thousand persons, stale to them what I intend to do, so that all shall understand me; then request them all to close their eyes firmly, and say, You cannot open youv eyes! and forty out of the thou- thousands of corroborations Of the fact, instead of hundreds, as at present. Will any one von tvro to soy that a force having rebtlon to such i light is not a material power 1 The light pro ceeds from the brain of a person willing, and mpingeson a sleeper sent to sleep by a magnet -or by a crystal The light is sent forth by the will of'hat person, and becomes a motive pow er, for i ho recipient sleeper moves and obeys the mandats received through the luminous agency. I have repeatedly performed an experiment under theta circumstances, and the results have been as .above stated Bat though lhave often willed person, awake aa well as alcop-wakers, and even mognetio andcrystallio-sleepers, to do mv silent bidding, proving that the light from my brain is a motive power, 1 regard soma other experiments on rare subjects to be still more conclusive as to the material agency of the light which emanates Tom the human brain I have caused it to 'ravel 72 miles, producing immediate effects. I havowitnories who can testify that I have re peatedly willed an Individntl to come to me when at the distance of nearly two hawwU- ioroe of the light emanating fmm my brain by the exertion of the will, to en able her to sleep at all, when she was at the dis tance of nearly two miles from mo. HuuilioA of persons have seen an individual made insensi ble and, rigid by my imagining a circle round her. In her delirium, which made her muscles enormously powerful, she would occasionally master several persons. My will, impinging its light upon her, tendered her not only tractable for a 'imo, but set her fa t, for hears, in a deep sleep and rigid spasm If 1 imagined a bar on t'i" eaipet, the could indicate with accuracy the position and limits of that bar. She desorihedit is a bar of blue light on the carpet; and if she were desired to get up and pass over it, she be came insensible, and fell on the floor like any in animate object. Sometimes 1 have plaoed this bar of light across the threshold of a door, and it has been impossible for her to pass over it The siciit of the blue bar of light, placed by an eff.irt of my will, even after many repetitions of the experiment, made her fall down irueusib'e; and she has remained ineonsible to aii external impressions, like a parson dead asleep on tho door, until 1 have willed the bar to disappear. Hundreds of persons have seen mo perform this experiment. On one cooasion I loft the bar for one hour and a half, and she remained quito_ un conscious, getting up immediately when I willed its d sappearanco. Though not a common, this has not been a solitary case illustrative of such a striking fact. Charpignon (Etudes Phys. sur le Magn. Anim Paris, 1843) has proposed phys ical tests to establish the existence of tho mes meric Add. One of them consisted in collecting tho fluid from tho end, of the lingers into a glass tumbler, and then getting patients to inhale tho air oollco od in that glass vessel. This put the individuals to sleep. Several persons have seen while awake the blue light proo»eding from my lingers, ami c dlecting in the glass. 1 have di rected their attention to other objects, so that they oonld not be aware of my resuming hold of tho glass 1 had left, and have boon unawares put to sleep by my pouring the fluid on tho back of their nocks. Oa several occ «sions lately, 1 have sat in one room willing tho mesmeric light into a wide-mouthed phial of a pint ca aoity, and have taken it iuloanother room, where, pouring the substance on a patient’s bead, she has in stantly fallen asleep. Repeated occurrences of those facts, and, as they are easily reproduced, we shall have accounts of many of them, will es tablish the conclusion that a force which it a material agent, attended by or constituting a colored light, emanates from the bruin of man, when he thinks that bis will can direct its im pingement—and that it is a motive power. ] A. J. Davis, in his Spiritual Intercourse, thus graphically exhibits the psychological power of the preacher: “Again, let us, from our homes, go into the popular revival religious meetings and further observe there the wopkiugs of this great psychological principle of sympathy. The cler gyma-, with “his big, manly voice,” u posi tively and dogmatically enforcing the doctrine of his creed: the awfulness of Divine Justice ; the awfuiness of Divine vengeance ; the awlui ness of hell j tho tenible awfuiness of hell pun ishments ; 'he awful magnificence of heaven ; the awful neoe.sity of salvation ; and the awful pivotal means upon which the whole scheme turns; whilst he threatens tho fearful oonce quenoes of not accepting those moans forthwith These and similar therms are rep'eseotod by the speaker, the powerful psychologist, to bis audi ence, hie generally passive and attentive subjects, with all the glowing beauty of brilliantlr.nguage and the sublime i.trorigth of positive tempera ment. Fascinated by his intellectual power, one after another draws nearer to the altar. Near by fit two equally honorable menboth intelli gent bu' dilf-Tomly constituted. The one listens and meditates with an almost provoking indif ference ; tho other is moved to the center of hi soul —his gesticulations express agony the preacher has drawn a piotur e of awfal to rrors and has powerfully daguerrootypsd it upon his mind ho sees the awfuiness there represented, an the shadow is to him as a reality. Now 1H us examine lot i this. The unmoved indmdua has a cold, resolute, positive, int lleotual organ ization—he is more positive than the speaker and laotefoie that speaker can not awa-pn in him false compunctions cf conscience. Ho can not convince the honest wranthai i-e is an “an u sinner.” 13. it this good men’s iqually good and honest neighbor possesses a fine, impres.ihle elastic, affectionate organization —he is very negative to the eloquent preacher, and hen sc “leols eveiy thing tho minister siys to bo true. Tho-o very positive speakers ahtays affirm wha they pronounce ; it gives weight to tuo.r words and invests th m with a seeming authority And nh»r. is the consequence of this psvcho.ogi ea! result 1 It is simply this: that good man that impr- ssibleand nlfeetionale mind, is thiown into a fro. zied slate of moral contrition • He has hitherto been superior to .‘ho uttering of what was untrue ; but now ho raptu'ouely pronounces falsehood at-or falsehood. He says—"J in under divine condemnation,” which is not true. He -ays-“l'm inwardly denavod; which is not true He i-ays ‘ I’ve been always a great sin ner which is not true, for ho waiono auinno oent child, and of “ auoh in the kiogdi m of heav en ” Ho sacs—“ God is angry with me;” which lint true, lor “God is love,” and bitt.r and rwtel or I 've and ha'e, can not fl,w Pom ore fountain. He rays—“ God's spirit is striving with me;” w ich is not true, tor he is simply psychologized, by the tp akor, lo foe every t o i t ,g reacting his own state iuvi&ttiU v»itn awfuiness, aid himself as under tho divine wiath and coiadoiiination. Atlasi ho csl’fl aloud _«* 0,1 see the Hoi? Spirit!” which is not true; his vision i only affected by mental delirium tremens, aiiair g from tho ©xcotriva irtoxioation which tno powerful preaching has produced upon his nervous system. And now, still moved by the controlling influence In tho assemblage, ho oxolaime—“O, thank God, 1 am forgiven which is n> t true, had ho tinned, for no traue rregions against nature's laws com bo orgiven; they can oxuy be outgrown by norpooal progres sion and development. And thus tho highly honorable ami truth-telling member oi society i« captivated by the positive sphere of the clergy man, united with that of those of hi* congrega te n who think with him, and is thereby “J™® 4 ® utter many falsi ies ai d contradictions which, 1 trust, no one, at this day of scientific enlighten ment, will attempt to account for on tho ground f moral obliquity, or total depravity. sand will be unable to do so. All this can be performed in five minutes after entering the hall. “ It is, however, certain, that no effect can be produced till you establish a thorough communication between yourself and the subject through the nervous force of the organ of Individuality that constitutes his personal identity. And as the centre or moving ner.ve of the system, and as they reciprocally affect each other, as you can establish a psychological communication by touching any part of the system where vol untary nerves are located, and particularly of those individuals who are very sensitive and impressible. But the most natural mode to get a good communication, and the one least liable to be detected by the audience, is to take the individual by the hand, and in the same manner as though we were going to shake hands. Press your thumb with moderate force upon the ulnar nerve, which spreads its branches to the ring and little finger of the hand. The pressure should be nearly an inch above the knuckle, and in range of the ring finger Lay the ball of the thumb flat and partially crosswise, so as to cover the minute branches of this nerve of motion and sensation The pressure, though firm, should not be so great as to produce pain or the least uneasiness to the subject. When you first take him by the hand, request him to place his eyes upon yours, and keep them fixed, so that he may see every emotion of the mind expressed in the countenance. Continue this position and ala n the nresaiire nnnn thiarjilnfol 71 - for half a minute or more. Then request him to close his eyes, and with your fingers gently brush downward several times over the eyelids, as though fastening them firmly together. Throughout the Whole process feel within yourself a fixed determination to close them, so as to express that determina tion fully in your countenance and manner. Having done this, place your hand on the top of his head and press your thumb firmly cn the organ of Individuality, bearing par tially downward, and with the other thumb still pressing the ulner nerve, tell him— you can not open your eyes ! Remember, that your manner, your expression of coun tenance, your motions, and your language must all be of the moat positive character. If he succeed in opening his eyes, try it once or twice more, because expressions, wheth g physical or mental, continue to deepen by repetition. In case, however, that you can not close his eyes, nor see any effect pro duced upon them, you should cease making any further efforts, because you have now fairly tested that his mind and body both stand in a positive relation to yours as it re gards the doctrine of impressions. “ There is yet another mode of communica tion that I have discovered, which is far preferable to the one just noticed, is supreme over all others, and will remain so till Om- nipotence shall see fit to change the nervous system of man This is the Median Nerve, which is the second of the brachial plexus. It is a compound nerve having the power of both motion and sensation. It is located in the hand near where it joins the wrist. In order to take the oommnnioation through this medium, you must take the subject by the hand with the palm upward, and place the ball of your thumb in the centre of his hand near the root of his thumb, and give a moderate but firm pressure. The astonish ing nature of the impression cm only be equalled by the result produced. It is a nerve of voluntary motion as well as sensa tion, and therefore belongs to, and has its origin in, the cerebrum. True, like the other nerves, it can be traced directly no farther than the spinal cord, yet there is no difficulty in determining its origin to be in the cerebrum, became that is the organ of all voluntary motion, even as the cerebel lum is the organ of all involuntary motion. This mode of communication transcends all others, and will answer in all possible cases, -even upon persons the most difficult to con trol, as well as upon those who are the most sensitive and impressible. I care not how you obtain the communication with an in dividual- whether it be without contact, or by touching any part of the body, yet the communication must ultimately be estab- lished through the Median Nerve as the centre telegraphic force from the organ of Individuality, through which organ all ideas and all impressions are transmitted from the external world to the mind, and through tirit Burnt organ o.«o ironemitted by the Toli tions of the mind to the different parts of the body. Even if the communication is taken bjf poMuro on the ulnar rwrvct j ot it IB nevertheless communicated by sympathy to the Median Nerve, and through which alone the communication tnumoa uerfcct. There is no question, in my mind, that the optic , the auditory and the olfactory nerves, as well as those of taste, are but branches of the same common nerve by which impres sions or ideas are transmitted to the mind through the organ of Individuality. Those whom I have instructed, will please to re member this I desire you, and all, in order to experiment with power, to keep up a per fect uniformity in taking the communication through the Median Nerve, and through this to transmit the electric current to the brain and electrify the body.” All effects similar to those produced through the explanations above given, whe ther known as Biology, Mental Alchemy, or Psychology, result from the action of a pos itive manipulator on the nerves of a negative patient in the same manner. The odic force, passing from the brain of the operator through the optic nerve, as explained by Dr. Ashburne, has much to do in consummating the psyoic state. Dr. Dod, in another lec ture, sets up for hia favorite science preten sions which will rather tend to throw con tempt and excite incredulity than advance the general truths of which ho may justly be termed the principal discoverer. Enthusi asts like the lecturer, however, are to be pardoned for this. The love a father bears towards his child is stronger than can possi bly be expected from a stranger —his off spring presents to his fond mind moral attri butes superior to those of other men’s. So with Dr. Dod. He claims for his favorite science, that it will cure all diseases not or ganic—that through it the inhabitants of the earth need not hereafter die from any other disease than old age—that fevers can be bro ken, rheumatism removed, sight restored, the dumb made to speak, and the deaf to hear ! In a work devoted to an explanation of his theory, he instances many cures, which, to say the least, are remarkable, and probably beyond the physician or the sur geon’s skill. We ourselves know of persons who have, almost miraculously, been cured of lingering diseases through the agency of this potent science. In our opinion, a general knowledge of the principles of Psychology would materially assist the good physician in his varied callings. Therefore, to the un prejudiced practitioner we would recommend a careful perusal of Rev, Dr. Dod’s Electri cal Psychology, which can be obtained either at Redficld’s or Fowler & Well’s. Wo would also earnestly direct attention to Baron Reichonback’s “Dynamics,” edited by Dr. Ashburne; to the “ Science of Psychology,” by Joseph Haddock, M. D.; Dr. Hammond’s “ Theory of Animal Magnetism,” and the “ Philosophy of Mesmerismalso to “A. J. Divio’s Philosophy of Death, Health, Sleep, etc., etc ,” to be found in the first volume of liia “Great Harmonia.” To the general reader, these works are invaluable, not only for the great learning which from their peru, sal may be cheaply obtained, but also from the fact that many of the mysteries, now apparently unaccountable, are in these vol umes lucidly explained. We arc entering upon fields of thought never before trodden by man, and which perhaps will speedily bring us into commun ion with those who now inhabit the Spirit Land. A general knowledge of the princi ples which involve the astonishing develop ments of the present day, aro in these vol umes minutely and briefly discussed. We have now arrived at the cause which which produces the various psyoologioal phenomena, and which charlatans here and elsewhere, have exhibited to gap ing multitudes, and who, not knowing the key which opens the portals to the human mind, conveniently dismiss the whole sub ject by declaring these matters arrant im postures. In reality there is nothing, when we come to understand this matter thorough ly, which can do other than excite the ad miration of men for the knowledge impart ed, and which the Father of love, truth and wisdom has seen lit to bestow on his earthly children. A portion of his infinite power, is given us, but in a finite degree. Let us thoroughly understand this matter, and ask how it is possible that one man can have over another, power to control his physical and psyoieal constitutions ? and answer that it is produced directly through the agency of that subtle fluid which pervades all space— electricity. By pressing positively a nega- PRICE THREE CENTS, tive system of nerves, the operator may produce the biological state ; by establishing through the eyes positive communication over a negative brain, produce the psyoo logioal condition ; by the effort of will he may then induce such impressibility in the negative mind, as to prepare it for instanta neous and astonishing cures. We admit that this system should only be practised by ele vated, enlightened and refined men. None should be permitted to approach a subject practising this art, unless he possesses the entire confidence of the patient, tftid who is known to be a gentleman well read, and of honorable intentions. Quacks, particularly should be avoided They may, and often do, produce diseases which neither psyoolo gy nor the whole range of materia meditia can remove. Having thus explained this matter, we will now endeavor to relate briefly, the mys teries appertaining to mesmerism and clair voyance. Considering then, that we have thus far ascended the first, second and third steps of modern mysteries, we shall now at tempt the fourth and-fifth, and endeavor to satisfactorily elucidate the grand mysteries of spiritualism. Mesmerism, according to the Rev. Dr. Dod, may properly be called spiritualism: apd clairvoyance, aonordinv to TJsvis, is explained as soul-seeing, or an in dependent condition, which bestows on the thinking organization the power to pene trate by electrical rays of light, to the most distant objects, and which are instantly im pressed upon the spiritual brain, and enun ciated to the astonished auditors with a oe- lerity, centainty and confidence, which without further investigation, tends to re move much of the scepticism previously en tertained. The mesmeric sleep is induced by mani pulation, Its end is to paralyze any given member of the body, or bring on a state of coma, or lethargy, in the patient, so that the most difficult surgical operations may be performed without his experiencing pain or inconvenience. In order to arrive conclu sively at this point, the same formula which induces the spasmodic or psyoologioal con dition, ought to be observed. Dr. Dod, in his course of lectures on the “Philosophy of Mesmerism,” —delivered at the Marlboro’ Chapel, Boston, cites several very remarkable cases which came under his own observation, and which, are so astound ing as to induce even jn the minds of those acquainted with spirituality, scepticism. Mesmerism has undoubtedly been practised for ages. It was familiar to the Egyptian piIVOtUVVU) II V “» V j ~ H-V- that it was practised in the Eleusian and Orphic mysteries, and was probably gene- rally understood by the Hebrew writers. Indeed, this fact is more than hinted at in the sacred volume. The strange tale of the Witch of Endor summoning to the vision of the seeking Saul the terrible and menacing Samuel, may thus be satisfactorily accounted for. This to us mysterious science, is very generally practised by the Chinese, particu larly by the barbers of that ancient Empire . We have on the authority of Dr, Haddock, a recapitulation of the history of Anton Mes- tner, who was born in 1734, at Mersburg, on the shores of the Lake of Constance, and who in 1776 took the degree of Doctor ot Medicine in the University of Vienna. From a very early age, Mesmer’s mind was direct ed to the investigation of physiological phe nomena Finally ho attempted, as the result of his Inquiries, to cure diseases —first by the use of the magnet , and afterward through manipulations. In 1778, he commenced his peculiar practice in Paris, and so successful was be that he speedily acquired great pop- ularity in France, from the astonishing cures he effected in those who, previously. were pronounced, by the most eminent med- leal gentlemen, lucuraDle, or neyond tne reach of medicine. The French government offered him a large annual income if he jvaiiM Kia mu nipiimow a man - ily refused the generous offer, and finally re- tired to his native village—on being present- ed by his pupils with a sum of over fifty thousand dollars where he died in hie eighty -eighth year. A commission appointed by the government, reported that his aston ishing cures were simply caused by or through the imaginatian or fancy of his pa tients. The great end of Mesmer’s proceed ings appears therefore, to have been use— the application of a remedy for human suf fering. As we shall have occasion to allude to mesmerism again, in connection with inner or spiritual sight, wo shall at once proceed to consider the Clairvoyant state. The first positive knowledge we are in possession of, of this remarkable property of the human soul, is given to us through the experiments of the Marquis do Puysegur, a French noble man, one of Mesmer’s disciples, in the year 1784. In inducing this extatio state, manip ulations are necessary, besides supremo con fidence on the part of the operator in his pos itive control of the nerves. It is the waking condition of the mesmeric state that may be termed Clairvoyance, and as such it is closely allied to the lessor developments treated of by us in preceding remarks. Dr. Haddock, in his “ Science of the Soul,” intimates that the great difficulty hitherto experienced in arriving at a knowlege of the real cause ol clairvoyance, has arisen from two causes; first, the different states of the clairvoyant subject and the observer, and the impossi bility of their having the same sensational perceptions —so that the observer oannoi sensationally perceive how the clairvoyant I sees, nor can the clairvoyant adequately de scribe his perceptions And, secondly, ths necessity for the opening of a higher degree of ■ consciousness in order fully to compre hend the lower. For instance, an animal oar have no proper idea of its own nature; bu man is enabled by the possession of an inter ual spiritual principle, rationally and sense tionally to investigate his animal body And the mere induction of the faculty o clairvoyance does not enable the possessor o that faculty sensationally to perceive th cause of that phenomenon; this requires th awakening of a higher consciousness, thoug still probably belonging to the psyche, o animal part of the spiritual organism. Bu in this respect he has an advantage ove most in possessing a subject, wh in addition to tho ordinary induced mesmeri extasis or trance, has repeatedly been i states of spontaneous extasis of a far highe and more interior character, and the reallt of those states has been proved to him by th most convincing evidence. One strikin difference between these two states is, tha whatever occurs to, or is seen by, the ord nary mesmeric extatio, is completely forgo ten, or, more correctly, is altogether ur known upon the return to the normal stat while tho true extatio, or subject of tl Superior state , as Davis, the Amitric, clairvoyant, styles it, upon returning to tl normal condition, recollects all that has bc< manifested to him in the abnormal conditio This singular fact receives an easy solutio if we admit the psychological doctrine, th man possesses both an internal aud exlei n memory In tho normal wakeful condilii these memories act as a one, and hence are only conscious of oue memory. In t abnormal state of induced mesmerism, t internal memory is active while tho extern is dormant; and from this want of conne tion between the two memories, arises t I oblivion invariably witnessed. Eat in t superior stale, or true spiritual extasis, bo memories are active, but from a more in rior degree than in ordinary life; and her the extatio subject can recollect in the n mal state what has transpired in the spon neous abnormal state, and, at the same tin possesses a full consciousness of the gr difference between these states, t eo as not confound the perceptions and knowledges one with those of the other. Several remarkable instances of the devel opment of the inner sight are recorded in the books, and there arc persons around us who are peculiarly favored Vfith this faculty. The most eminent living Clairvoyant of -which we have knowledge is Davis. So superiorly developed is this man, that he claims to be mors or less constantly in connection with