The Hampshire Advertiser from Southampton, Hampshire, England on August 23, 1862 · 7
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The Hampshire Advertiser from Southampton, Hampshire, England · 7

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Southampton, Hampshire, England
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Saturday, August 23, 1862
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7
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August 23. jnd little doubt can exist as to which hind of book claims most credence. In truth, even upon the broad facta of history, it ispatent that anv comparison between the persecution of the Church during the Commonwealth time, and that (so to call it) of the Nonconformists under Charles II., must dwarf the latter into a comparative trifle j and that in particular the gpecif ing the Act of Uniformity as an item in the latter persecution," is simply the shallowest of all possible impudence. To take first the general case, there is, we suppose, some slight difference between being turned riolently by usurpers out of rightful ownership, and being ejected by law out of wrongful usurpation, between a wholly prohibited Prayer-book and an occasionally licensed meeting-house, between being starved. ha.niKd f -i parishes, and even murdered, and the being forbidden simply to live within five miles of a market-town, between belonging to a proscribed party, and liable to be insulted and sequestrated as " malicmants" as w11 an " nrtAaH nd being the petted ministers of a minority indeed, but 'a minority of no small wealth and influence, and wielding considerable power both in the State and socially lastly between the entire clergy of the national Church in-' eluding the Universities, 7000 clergy at the least computation (and reckoned at 30,000 persons if their families be included), and some 2000 ministers at most (to take their own round numbers), and probably several hundreds fewer. It is not for us to advocate either the wisdom or the righteousness o even the minor degrees of compulsion which Charles e Government chose to employ. But any one who compares the life, under Charles, of even Baxter, with that of English clergy under the Commonwealth, until Cromwell in some little degree protected them, will have no difficulty in adjusting the relative amounts of the guilt of persecution in the two cases. The outcry against the Act of Uniformity is far more preposterous. Unless restitution be injustice, unless the compelling the clergy to believe what they profess to teach or to give up their office, by persecution, unless the condoning of past usurpation on condition of piesent honest conformity be oppression, unless the restoration of competent men, speaking generally, in the room of the ignorant, and of orthodox divines instead of fanatics, be an unjustifiable act of State power, giving force to the determination of the Church, then was that much-abused act the most just, honest, merciful, and wholesome act the Legis-ture ever passed. Those who desire to hold office in the Church while disbelieving her doctrines, and those who desire to overthrow those doctrines and the Church herself with them, may very naturally combine to assail it. And the miserable temper of the present times, which rebels against the wholesome yoke of fixed objective truth, will lend its weight to aid the assault. But honest Churchmen who love the truth, and wise men who value a settled standard, and thoughtful men who consider that the State thereby simply sanctions what the Church determined, and that the formularies of the Church thus sanctioned open the widest possible field for freedom of thought consistent with the substantiate of the Christian faith itself, will, we trust, rally the more to the defence of our present position, through the pitiful attack just now being made upon it. The Epitomist appears to have made a fair selection from Mr. Walker's pages in the volume before us. It will supply a wholesome antidote to the absurd misrepresentations which the Bicentenary has called forth among Nonconformists. We, at least, have nothing to fear from the fullest search into the history of those unhappy times of the Commonwealth, when Dissent showed by the actual results what are its natural tendencies when left to the fullest liberty to develop them. Quardian. THE NEXT PRESENTATION. Length of days is said, upon the highest authority, to be one of Man's chiefest blessings, and it is not the intention of this writer to contravene that authoritative statement. Still, what was an advantage to the patriarchs may not be equally convenient now a days ; and if a gentleman persists in holding property, in which he has only a life-interest, as il he were possessed of the fee-simple, and might enjoy it in perpetuity, he mu6t be prepared to meet with indigna-tion. 'Live and let live' should be everybody's motto; and excess is everything even in vitality is especially un-becoming in a divine. Nobody, beyond his own immediate friends and relatives, has, of course, a right to object to a curate's living on to any length of time. But if a man with a good benefice, like myself, enjoy the same beyond the reasonable hopes of the purchaser of the nert presentation beyond the limit, that is, which compilers of annuity tables have set down as his legitimate average he cannot escape without a hint or two that he is standing in the way of other people. I trust that what I have to say may serve as a warning to persons of sensitive nature who may be thinking of entering the ministry of the Church of England, and of investing their money in her at the same time. If they do buy a Living for themselves, let it be the Advowson ; or if they be so rash as to secure a mere life-interest in her (as I have done), let them be well convinced beforehand would they avoid the inconveniences of which I have to tell that they have not an immoderate share of vital stamina. They must by no means think that general debility will be any guarantee for this, for I have known a man to be put into a very excellent living merely as a stop gap, and actually chosen, on account of hi6 many admirable infirmities, who yet retained hi6 post for half a century, and outlived the grandson of the man who first waited for his shoes. The circumstances of this most unjustifiable event occurred within my own knowledge, and in the following manner. The family living of the YeUowboys fell vacant while their second son, Euphranor (whom they had destined for that preferment), was still at college, and before he was legally qualified to take that responsible eharge upon his shoulders. They therefore looked about them for a warming-pan ;' that is to say, a gentleman in orders, who would be content to hold the place until the young man was of fit age, receiving the full stipend in the meantime in return for the obligation. But not only is there an ecclesiastical canon which forbids this very convenient and not uncommon arrangement a fact which, I fear, would not of itself have deterred the head of the house of YellowboyB from adopting it but examples are on record of ' warming-pans' who have refused to remove from comfortable quarters at the appointed time, protesting that the bed was tJieir own, and that they meant to lie upon it. To obviate any risk of this kind, Yellowboys senior made a gift of the next presentation to a certain cousin of his, not so ancient, indeed, as was desirable, but afflicted with such a complication of disorders as promised, if there was any faith to be placed in doctors, to carry hun off in two or three years at the very latest. The Rev. Joseph Yellowboys, on receiving this good tidings, pricked up his drooping years, returned, with thanks to his bishop, the ' perpetual' curacy in the Fen country (where nobody lives any time to speak of, even if mere is no inundation), and came up rejoicing (and, 1 think, on crutches) to the rectory of Buttertoa Magna. He read himself in in such a quavering voice, that Squire Yellowboys doubted whether the powers of his relative would even last out the very moderate span that was expected of them ; and his cough throughout that evening for 1 was a child staying at the Park with the young Yellowboys at the time, and came down to dessert, and met him his cough, I say, would have been music to his heir, if he had happened to have one, which at that time was not the case. He was lame with both legs ; he had only one eye, and even thai had an involuntary rotatory movement like that of a dying firework ; he was thinner, and rather more cirieJ-up looking than a red herring ; and he had several most serious maladies (as was affirmed on excellent authority), besides the more ordinary ailments such as a in ma and bronchitis which were patent to all who set eyes upon him. Vet, poor Euphranor Yellowboys waited for Butterton Magna for ten yeans, and then, instead of getting his living, died; and Euphranor'seon died, expectant after him; and now Euphranor's son's son (as I have just heard) is dead likewise, and tbe Bev. .Joseph Yellowboys is rector still. Again, in the case of Sheepington, the fattest living in the gift of St. Boniface, Oxford, what a shocking miscalculation there was tlvere J The great tithes alone of that place, they tell me, are over three thousand a year. It has capital shooting in tbe very midst of bis Grace of Muddle-borough's preserves, who is therefore always on his best behaviour towards the incumbent ; and dissent is almost unknown in the parish. It is altogether much too good a thing to go by seniority, and therefore the struggle to secure Sheepington when it chances to fall vacant (which is somehow very seldom) is something unparalleled. It resembles, in one respect at least, the strife for good-service pensions given to deserving warriors. Each candidate exhibits his wounds and his decrepitude as so much claim upon the sympathies of the electors. The applicants for Sheepington, however, do not pretend that they owe these to hard usage in tbe cause of the church militant; they only say ; " Behold our sad our really hopeless condition, electors ! If you should but confer this boon upon us, the next presentation of it must needs fall to you within a very! few years. Vote for Senior and Softening of the Brain Vote for Octogenarian and Paralysis !" Two eminent divines, neither of whom was destitute of good physical dements, contended on the last occasion for this great clerical prire, and the votes, after the closest scrutiny, were declared equal. To elect one, would have been to mortally affront the other, and might have driven either (for the heart and liver were the parts affected in the two cases) into thejgrave at once ; so thecouncil determined to procrastinate. They elected the vice-principal of the college, a gentleman of a fabulous age, who weighed seventeen stone, and had not seen his own knees for thirty 3 cars " Let us try again," said they, " after a Jew montlis, and Jen, perhaps, we shall have less difficulty in coming to a cual decision.' . I he majority of these sanguine individuals are now lying to at. Boniface hys Chapelle, with neat mural tablets over jfen, which celebrate their virtues in the Latin tongue. , the eminent divines havA donaHed frnm this snb- -snary sphere; but the Bev. Methuselah Heviside etill ,u-ies the rectory of Sheepington, although he has pit ""W "J "J uccm: uwhwi uiuu iu ui i-V?' m both these cases it has so happened that the long bp"., -, uaTe Deen peculiarly fatted to bear with calm-ws the indignation which their conduct has excited. The s BT ) ellowboys (who married, by the by, within months of his promotion, and has now several grand- Lujuren) is qmte unconscious, or at least appears to be so, absnr? ?I8aPProral of his relatives with respect to his wurd longevity. He openly expresses his belief that a rerlfinght t0.hve. 18 ng as he can, without any S , , ? P?cumarv mtereste of others j and when he is enoni tbe,re 18 moderation in all things, and that circle n8" ood as a feast, he begins to argue in a vicious and oVfinT !we mafit come round to the starting-point, wu Qetlne what, mnAaraHnr. v:-i 6 . f n ! tenos) according to each man's circumstances : h once he WT B 77 "" 8 circumstances : he was S ! wbiehtf8 r ?n8lder eiht a tolerable whilpti . . -n,ow iootsback upon as the prime of life-&SnA Le rfnably tavePconsidred to a r if -"cunmuiK luueeu at xmnenon .Magna. A for the Bev M. Heviside-' our Met,' as we called him He roll! itwvr 7 JXT Pn the ., ifw jaaorf rt m h sea, ne conshs hp turns purple and black, and when his terrified wife (the I whe to 6h gone . rr- - uto 1L iitSE re- MV,ai?wy,f meibod OS00 to that recommended by - ui m luc uv vi vvmaa apt penoofl apparently drowned, he wheezes out : " I know they're vexed, but I mian to keep it for half a century yet." Which he most certainly wilL if he can. But neither of these two gentlemen, as may well be imagined, are of that sensitive and chivalrous nature which is doubtless yours, my young friend's as it is also mine, alas ! My own simple, but truly touching story, reader, runs if I can call that running which loiters so inexcusably as follows : It is many years ago I confess it since I bought my life-interest in the living which I still hold ; but, on the other hand, I had myself a considerable time to wait. " To be Sold The Next Presentation to the living of Chauncery Bassett ; tithe so much ; glebe so big ; rectory house in good repair ; locality salubrious and picturesque. Age of present incumbent, 76." ouch was the advertisement which met my eyes nearly half acenturv aero : dazzlinc enoueh to a vouncr divinn lito myself, who had a tew thousand pounds in the three per cents., tne interest wnereor, even witn a curate s salary added, by no means made an income to marry upon which seemed to me in those days the only legitimate object of all incomes. My intended, Angelina, was, I felt confident, most admi rably adapted for a clergyman's wife ; but then she had certain tastes in the pony carriage and moire" antique uirections wnicn pomtea out tnat ner nusoand snould be a beneficed clergyman, bo I went to my guardian, and asked his opinion as to the purchase. This eentleman re. sided in Gray's Inn, where I used to think ne must also have been born, with a wig on must have sprung forth from the head of old Father Antic the Law armed cap-d-pied 60 legal he was, bo precise, so parchmenty, and with sucn very mercenary views regarding the most solemn sub jects. " In these "speculative investments in church-property, young gentleman," he began. " My dear sir," interrupted I blushing. " I have not contemplated this affair, I hope, entirely from that point of view. " In these excessively speculative investments." con tinned he, speaking through me (as though I was not a substantial form at all) to Brigas on Conveyancing, who stood on tne opposite booksnelr " investments in which two lives are concerned, and the calculations are proportionally complicated, we cannot be too cautious. The circumstance of the incumbent bein g seventy-six, will doubtless render the patron anxious to come to terms, insomuch as if he was so fortunate as to die before the transfer was completed, he would actually have to qive the livina away ' On the other hand, incumbents of seventy-six are often comparatively young people; and you perceive that the advertisement admits it is most incautiously worded, and so far affords hope of an easy bargain it admits that the situation is salubrious. However, I will make every inquiry, and you may come to me in a fortnight for my best advice." At the appointed time I revisited my astute guardian whom it would be impertinent, because totally inadequate, to compare, in respect to his detective qualities, with a ferret and found him in possession of all the facts connected with my contemplated purchase. The actual patron of Chauncey Bassett was a gentleman of the Jewish persuasion, whose father had had pecuniary transactions with the grandfather of the present squire of the parish, from which the Gentile had escaped with his estate, but had left the advowson of the living in the hands of the Hebrew. It seemed very odd, and indeed wrong, tome at that period, that a Jew should have a Christian living, even indirectly, in his gift; but my guardian bade me take comfort, on the ground that I myself, at least, would be under no obligation to him, but wonid have to buy it with hard cash. " My only fear," added he with an air of reflection, "is lest Mr. Levi and the parson may be confederated in the business, and that the latter is in reality a younger man in stamina than he chooses to seem. His appearance (though I saw him on a Monday, just after his chief day's work, to be sure) is most promising ; feeble, fragile, and with a certain quavering of the voice, from which one would argue the best, if it was certain all was on the square. But it the patron should have made it worth the incumbent's whale to look his very worst, in order that the bidding may rise why, then you see, young gentleman, what a very speculative investment this sort of church-property is !" " But, my dear sir," ejaculated I, aghast and shuddering " is it probable" " Nay, sir," returned the lawyer with irritation, I have nothing to do with that. It is oertainly possible $ and it is with possibilities that I as your guardian, have to de." Eventually the Next Presentation became mine, er rather my guardian's, who, to humour a certain prejudice of the law against the convenience called Simony, affected to buy it himself, and then banded it over to me : and after an interval of ten years, during which I hope I never wished the situation of Chauncey Bassett less salubrious by one breath of summer air, the incumbent became at 'length recumbent, and I was installed rector in his stead. Since that welcome period, up to a very recent date, Angelina, and afterwards Caroline and myself, have lived a life of almost unruffled calm. Children were bom unto us every year as is also the universal custom among the clergy and none, thank heaven, were taken from all. I have held in my arms at the baptismal-font well-nigh half the parish, and there is not a man, woman, or child within it with whom I am not acquainted. The squire he that was " the young squire" when I first arrived is ailing, which at his years he cannot but expect to be, but nobly seconds with his purse any proposition of mine for the benefit of the poor. The Vestry, although not exactly liberal, I have always found to be pliant if 'manipulated with tact and good-humour. The meeting-house at Banter's End has been happily out of repair for some time, and the funds, I am told, are not forthcoming, -even to set the roof in order. Our new bishop the fourth, by the by, that has had the diocese in my time is courteous and thoughtful for others ; he complimented Angelina upon her apricot jam at luncheon after our last confirmation in a manner she will never forget. Until within the last few months, in short, I was the happy rector of a model parish, with as few causes of annoyance as can be reasonably expected in a country where cnurch-rates have been but recently saved from abolition only by a majority of one. Too great Content, it was held by the ancients, provokes the anger of the gods ; and perhaps 1 was too comfortable. My worst-enemy, however can certainly no longer lay this to my charge. This thin end of the wedge to use a metaphor which has been made their own by the Great Conservative Party of my native land was inserted in the heart ot my domestic uie in April last, and the mallet has been falling, and the breach widening over since. The first blow was struck in this manner 5 I was .engaged in the peaceful occupation of gardening a little before luncheon-time, when there drove up to the door a 4y and pair from the railway station, bringing a strange gentleman ox about my own age, and apparently ot the legal profession. I hurried in to pay those pious duties of hospitality whicSa in the country have not as yet fallen into disuse, and learned from my visitor that his name was Filer, and that he had the misfortune to be an attorney. &ome men might nave neen dissatisned witn this mtormatioa, and have. asked him what was his business at Chauncey Bassett, but as the bell was just then ringing-for the children's dinner. I only asked him in to lunch. The number of my offspring seemea to astomsn mm, and ne toot in tnem an evident interest, which could not bat be pleasing to Caroline for Angelina, poor dear, was taken from me many years back. " This is your youngest, I oonclude, sir," observed be, taking Adolphus John's left ear between his fingers, who, considering himself to be a young man, and aspiring to 'stick-ups,' resented that familiarity with some dignity. " Yes," said I rather tartly, " it is ;" for why he should have taken upon himself to conclude anything of the sort, I was at a loss to understand. " Thank you ; I will have another help," responded the old gentleman presently, to an invitation ot my wife, who was superintending the cold beef: " the air of your down-country is truly appetising. What health your husband seems to enjoy, madam ! He looks as robust as men in London who are only half his age." " Thank you, sir, responded the hostess ; " he is very well.' " He is very gray, however," remarked the visitor with startling abruptness.! " At our age," retorted my wife, with some asperity, "we must be fortunate indeed not to be gray. " True, madam true. If I were not perfectly bald, as you perceive, I should doubtless be gray myself. You are lookmg for the salt, reverend sir : permit me. I daresay, nowyou find your sight begin to fail you a little 7" " Well," said I, good-humonredly, " I do wear spectacles now and then, I confess." " You do wear spectacles now and then, do you ? Ah ! Now, do you wear strong spectacles ?" I began tothinkthis man must be a person of extraordinary benevolence, notwithstanding his acknowledged profession, and I therefore detailed to him certain difficulties which I had lately met with in getting my sight suited. "Dear me," said he, after listening to me with an appearance of the greatest interest ; " your lungs and hearing are, however, I remark, in the most excellent order. May I ask you seemed to have a little difficulty with that crust just now may I ask how yon are off for teeth ?" I was about to explain, for I don't see why one should make a secret of such matters, how much more comfortable I have felt with those that Mr. Wrencham procured for me last autumn, when I perceived my wife to be telegraphing to me, as plain as eyes could speak, to take the man away, because there was only pudding enough for the children ; so I asked him to have a stroll with me in the garden. " There, at least," said I to myself, " he will disclose his business, and leave off asking questions about my bodily health." I opened the glass-door that leads fram my study on to our little lawn, and motioned that he should pass out first. " Thank you," returned he ; "I should much prefer your leading the way. How well you walk how exceedingly well you walk ; you put your feet down with all the decision and firmness of a young man. I think, however, I detect a slight relaxation in the muscles of the left leg. They must of course be shnntnng; " Sir," said I, turning sharply round upon him, as he stood making some memorandum in his note-book, " what business is it of yours, confound you, whether my muscles are shrinking or not ?" " My dear sir," returned the lawyer, laying his finger upon my shoulder soothingly, " it is no business of mine whatever. I am employed by a young fellow who has just taken orders, and has confidence in my judgment. He sent me down on purpose to look at you ; and you look a great deal too well, my dear sir, a vast deal too well, for my client, I do assure you. Mr. Levi is putting far too high a price upon the concern, according to present appearances. You bought, you know, the next presentation of this living of his grandfather, yourself." " So I did," said I, with an involn tary sigh "years and years ago ; I remember the very day I did so as though it was yesterday." " The dickens you do !" ejaculated Mr. Filer with irritation. u Why, your memory must be as good as ever, then ! That is a great point against Mr. Levi's offer, that is. Don't you ever nnd your head swim r " It is advertised in the papers, I suppose," said I, with, out replying to the question, for I was looking sadly round upon the dear old place, which seemed as though it was about to pass out of my hands at once. u Yes," returned he, "of course it's advertised, and I must say that it's very well done, It leads one to expect hettor things I am looking- at it from a professional point of view, you will understand it hints that almost immediate wmmjimi mav be looked for. There will be scores of people coming ?own here upon a fool's errand. I left a THE HAMPSHIRE ADVERTISER COUNTY NEWSPAPER. fellow at the railway station even now, who will arrive with the same object as myself this very afternoon. He wanted to share my fly with me, but I knew better than that. He might have telegraphed "Buy" to his man in the city, and taken the wind out of my Fails at once. However, he may telegraph what he likes now. I was particularly told to see your Chancel for my young friend is High Church but since I have seen you, Bir, that is more than enough. I thank you, however, for your hospitality. Excuse what may have looked like rudeness in my conduct to yonr good lady : business is business, and must be attended to before all things that's my motto. I wish you good-day, sir, and have a long life. Here is the gentleman I spoke of coming down the lane. Observe how he is turning up the soil with his umbrella, to see what sort of a glebe you have !" Mr. Filer, attorney-at-law, spoke truly. Scores of people hare come, and are still coming down to Chauncey Bassett, if not on a fool's errand, at least on an errand which does not seem to give them much satisfaction. Through no fault of my own I feel that I am incurring the resentment of a great many worthy persons. A gentleman of seventy. two is expected to look a good deal less hearty and florid than the unfortunate strength of my constitution will permit me to do. One gentleman even hinted at being reimbursed in bis travelling expenses, on the ground of having been enticed to this secluded spot upon false pretences. On the other hand, if I was to decease suddenly, and before the transaction was concluded with any of the parties, Mr. Levi would be reduced to the desperate necessity of giving away (by proxy) the next presentation, since it would be illegal, under such circumstances, to sell it. Conceive the anxiety of my Hebrew friend in that emergency to discover the very oldest divine in the Church of England that could; be got to hold it; and how miserable would the last days of that venerable man be rendered by people coming to look at him ! The reflection that the older I grow the more tempting will be Mr. Levi's advertisement, and consequently the more numerous my inquiring friends, is by no means a soothing one. I wish from my heart that he was of a less grasping disposition, or else that one of the candidates for my to-be-vacant pulpit would bid a little higher, so that this matter might be settled. I should not mind one man taking an antagonistic interest in the state of my health ; but, as it is, I feel as though I were the common enemy of the human race male and female. It is not uncommon for ladies to accompany their husbands to " see how they like the look of the place," and these always ask to be shown over the upstair rooms, with an eye to improvements and alterations, when your humble servant, the present writer, shall have been taken out of his own bed-chamber feet foremost. One "engaged" young mm confessed to me, with a charming frankness, that my drawing-room was just the sort of apartment in which he should like to see his fianciehis Angehna installed ; "but then," added he, " wjjh a reproachful look at the calves of my legs, " there is no knowing when one is to get it." rUy begin to think that some mutual arrangement with Mr. Levi (such as I was so ready to reprobate in my younger days) would not be altogether unjustifiable. IS I choose to sit for half a day with my head tied up, and my legs in flannel, for instance as I suppose I have a perfect right to do these people would bite at once at Chauncey Bassett, I know. As it is, I am obliged to procure alleviation for myself by a pious fraud. On one occasion an applicant called while I was exercising the colt ; and the servant who answered the front-door bell informed the gentleman how her master was engaged. "Exercising the colt!" cried he; "then I have been most grossly imposed upon. Coachman, drive me back to the station." Since then, I am afraid that " exercising the colt" has been rather a stereotyped reply at the door of the rectory of Chauncey Bassett when any stranger comes to it and asks to look at it, and whether the present writer is at home. Cliambers's Journal, RESTORED TO LIFE. In the year seventeen hundred and ninety-seven, Mens, de Feron, widower, an avocat in good practice and repute, resided at Marseilles with an only child, who had just completed her nineteenth year. Mademoiselle Mathilde de Feron, being a young lady of great personal attractions, amiable disposition, and by no means a dowerless maiden, had, as a matter of course, crowds of admireis; among them a certain Mons. Eugene de Beaurepaire, Lieutenant of Cuirassiers, a gentleman of good family and distinguished appearance able to hold his own both in the ball-room and in tbe field. It was not surprising, therefore, that even the Belle of Marseilles should listen to his vowswitha willing ear, nor that her father, weil informed as to this military " pretendant's" position and prospects, -should give him the-oordial welcome of a son-in-law-expectant. So far, the -course of this true love ran very smooth indeed. The 'Lieutenant meditated eeriously how hest to disclose, whether by letter or by interview love made him nervous and timid the news of hie projected marriage to his relatives.; the whole town of Marseilles looked forward to the approaching nuptials as to a festival, when mille tonaerres down came an order from the Minister -of War, directing him to hold himself in readiness for foreign service. The next morning, at a very early hour, he presented himself at Monsieur de Feron e -residence, and .communi cated the distressing news. He himself was in despair Mathilde in speechless grief even her father was overwhelmed with the intelligence. But when the first shock was over, some feeble glimmerings of hope began to revive. The Lieutenant talked of hastening the marriaere. and taking his wife with him. Monsieur de Feron would not listen to it. He then offered to resign his commission. " An act of consummate folly," replied his senior, who in the meantime was calmly resolving upon a line of action. " The engagement shall continue," he said at length, " but you must wait for matrimony until you return from the final propose! to; in ar ry Mathilde forthwith, and leave her in ner tattler e care, he continued, You are both very young; two or three years' separation will only test the strength of your atteotion, and eventually you will be happier lor this trial." The usual protestations of love and -constancy wera exchanged. The moon, so friendly to lovers, witnessed their vows, as they eat beneath a fragrant orange-tree laden with flowers. They fixed the hours in which they should think of each other, and ended by agreeing to think of each other always, and as the lieutenant imprinted a passionate farewell on tbe lips of bis beautiful mistress, she murmured : " O Eugene ! jf I were dead your hiss wovld recall me to life !" And with these strange words they parted. Six years passed away. . In the year eighteen hundred and three, Major Eugene de Beaurepaire landed at Cherbourg, and on the thirteenth of August arrived at his mother's house at Fontainebleau. Hard fighting and hard fare had been our hero's portion since his love-making days at Marseilles three times severely wounded once left for dead on the field and for the last two years a prisoner in England. Madame de Beaurepaire welcomed her son as one risen from the dead ; but after the first transports of this happy re-union were over, she noticed a strange sorrow and disquiet in his looks, and preoccupation in his replies. He endeavoured to account for it on the plea of ill-health. Six years' hardship had perhaps left their mark behind ; but he did not add that a decent pretext for tearing himself away, and hastening on the wings of love to Marseilles, would effect a marvellous cure. The very first moment he could frame an exeose for his departure, he secured a place on the malle-post for Marseilles, and on the twenty-first of August threaded his way once more through the well-known streets towards Monsieur de r eron s residence. The door was opened by a servant m deep mourning. " Monsieur de Feron is dangerously ill, and the doctor has forbidden him to receive visitors," said the man. " And Mademoiselle Mathilde ?" faltered de Beaurepaire. " She has been married more than three years, sir, to Monsieur Le Moine, the Jnge-de-Paix. Ah, sir !" he added, at last recognising the Major, " we heard that you were killed in Egypt." " Is Madame Le Moine living in Marseilles ?" he asked, with a tremendous effort to appear calm. The man hesitated. " Five days ago, sir, she died. She was buried yesterday at St. Gervais." De Beaurepaire heard him finish the sentence, and then fell senseless to the earth. When be recovered, he found himself stretched on a conch, in a room he well remembered. He lay there pale, motionless, and full of thought not indulging in vague, useless repinings, but evidently absorbed in the arrangement of some plan for many hours after the domestics summoned to his assistance had been dismissed. In the evening he left the house, and directing his steps towards the Church of St. Gervais, ascertained from the beadle the name of the cemetery in which Madame Le Moine had been buried. The same night he roused up the guardian of the cemetery, and offered him two thousand francs to open the coffin of the deceased lady, and allow him to gaze for five minutes on her features. The sum was tempting, but the man was either scrupulous or fearful ; he hesitated for a long time. Eugene's- tears and passionate entreaties, added to the sight of the money, finally prevailed ; and armed with spade, pickaxe, and lantern, the pair set out on their strange errand. It was a bright moonlight night. Not a word was exchanged on either side. De Beaurepaire's thoughts had travelled back to that night when the same bright orb which now guided him and his companion through the mazy windings ot the cemetery, had witnessed the chaste vows of the two lovers beneath the fratrrant orancre tree. The grave- digger silently pointed out a newly-raised mound. Silently yet vigorously they both set to work, and in an incredibly short space of time lifted the coffin on to the green sward beside the grave. With a few blows of the mallet and chisel the lid flew open, and the pale moonlight gleamed on the ashy countenance of the corpse. De Beaurepaire fell on his knees beside it, and raising it in his arms, gazed down sadly on that loved countenance. Suddenly the memorv of their last rtartinc. of her last words, flashed across his bewildered brain, and winding his arms around ner, ne pressed upon ner aeaa up 3 tnat aiss wnicn sue nau tondly said would recall her to life. The next instant he was seized with a fit of trembling : then starting up, still holding the corpse in his arms, he flew away over the tombs with a cry that thrilled through the heart of his terrified companion. The grave-c'igger started in pursuit : bat De Beaurepaire, in spite of his heavy burthen, ran with such supernatural swiftness, besides being favoured by the inequalities of the ground, that he was soon lost to view. All that his unhappy accomplice could do was to return to the grave horror-stricken at his crime replace the coffin, and remove, as far as possible, every trace of the sacrilege. He then went home, and awaited what daylight might bring forth with feelings far from enviable. But the next day came weeks, months, years rolled on, and nothing occurred to justify the grave apprehensions he felt for the result of that memorable night's work. At regular intervals the widower. Monsieur Le Moine, came to pray over his wife's grave, and to hang garlands on her tomb. At such times he was stealthily but curiously watched by the grave-digger, who remembered with certain qualms of remorse and apprehension, that the mourner was weeping over an empty coffin. Five years afterwards namely, in the year eighteen hun-dred and eight the grave-digger lay upon his death-bed. The doctor informed him that any worldly affairs requiring his attention had better be. dispatched forthwith. The heaviest sin upon his conscience was that midnight robbery of the churchyard, and of this he resolved to ease himself at once by disclosing the whole affair to the injured widower. Unf ortiuiately he died before his statement could be reduced to writing; and with him almost all hope of bringing his accomplice to justice. Monsieur Le Moine, however, placed the affair in the hands of the police, and their first step was to verify the dying man s confession. The grave was opened, and the coffin found empty. They next ascertained from the beadle 1 k thJat Majrde Beaurepaire-whom he knew wen Dy signthad made particular inquiries some five years previously about the burial-place of Madame Le Moine. ine description given by the grave-digger of his companion corresponded in every respect with the personal appearance of that officer ; and it was moreover well known in Marseilles that he had been deeply attached to the deceased The police thought they had a clue. The next thing was to ascertain the movements of the Major. The date of his It- m. England was procured at the War Office the thirteenth of August, eighteen hundred and three, just eight days before the perpetration of the sacrilege. He had subsequently been ordered to Italy; the day of his departure was duly recorded, and, from minute inquiries set on foot, it was then ascertained beyond a doubt that he was then accompanied by a lady closely veiled. Finally he was traced to Strasbourg, where he was then living openly with a lady who passed as Madame Le Beaurepaire, and this person unquestionably bore a striking likeness to the deceased Madame Le Moine. The cause came before the tribunals, and the novelty of the case excited universal attention. Madame de Beaurepaire had to appear and answer any questions that might be put to her. When confronted with Monsieur Le Moine, she appeared astounded at the assertions of that gentleman. Monsieur de Feron, who was summoned from Marseilles, was so struck by the extraordinary resemblance to his daughter that he burst into tears; but as the lady, instead of evincing any corresponding emotion, surveyed him with a look of cold surprise, he was too bewildered toex-Fu ??ini?n either "ay Papers were produced setting forth that Madame Le Beaurepaire was the child of French parents long settled in Canada; that after their death she had been sent by her friends to England, where Major de Beaurepaire, at that time a prisoner on parole, had married her. The documentary evidence appeared satisfactory. At aU events, Monsieur Le Moine made no attempt to invalidate it, possibly because any effort in that direction would have been nugatory so long as hostilities continued between France and England. On the other hand several inhabitants of Marseilles, who had known Madame Le Moine previous to, and subsequent to her marriage, swore to her identity. Her husband certainly the least likely to be mistaken never once wavered in his belief that Madame de Beaurepaire and his supposed deceased wife were one and the same person. Pamphlets were exchanged between members of the faculty to prove that the supposed death might have been a case of lethargy; but the hours were reckoned in which Madame Le Moine must have existed in this state, and it appeared that no in stance of so prolonged a trance could be adduced. Major de Beaurepaire contented himself with saying very little ; and if pressed upon the subject, candidly acknowledged that when he first made his wife s acquaintance, he was attracted by a resemblance perhaps more fancied than real to the young lady he had known some years before at Marseilles. The pleadings terminated on both sides, and the day fixed for the final judgment of the case arrived. No one doubted which way the verdict would go, nor that Monsieur Le Moine would be baffled in this strange pursuit of another man's wife. This gentleman, however, as the sequel will show, by no means despaired even then of establishing The court was crowded. All the members of the tribunal w PmhW TvrHinr T. rh lSf-T 251 girl by the hand, quietly threaded his way towards a table in the centre of the hall, where Madame de Beaurepaire sat her face buried in her hands. A little hand gently pulled her away, and a little voice said sadly " Do not leave me again, mamma ! " Madame de Beaurepaire gave the child one bewildered look, then throwing her arms round it, burst into a passion of tears. Tbe mother's heart had conquered. From that moment the counsel retained on behalf of Major de Beaurepaire felt that his cause was lost, and wound up a most eloquent speech with an appeal addressed rather to the compassion, than to the sense of justice of the tribunal. Tbe sentence of the court condemned Madame Le Moine ne'e Feron to return to her first husband. On the -evening of her return she died very suddenly, it was generally supposed at the time from the effects of poison. Major de Beaurepaire fell at Vittoria. THE RELATIONS TO LITERATURE OP A PROVINCIAL ASSOCIATION FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF SCIENCE, LITERATURE, AND AISTS. Thk was the subject of a paper read on Friday at the meeting of the Devonshire Association for the advancement of literature, science, and art ; or rather we shall state -it was read at the Eieter Graphic Society, the members of which entertained the members of the other association at a conversazione at the Royal Clarence Hotel, Cathedral-yard. We give the report as we found it reported in the Western Morning News : This was the subject of a paper read by the Sev. J. Erskine Risk, curate of St. Andrew's, Plymouth. The rev. gentleman prefaced his paper by saying It is in compliance with a request made to me by one of our Plymouth secretaries to prepare a brief paper that I have chosen this subject as being one on which a little discussion is accessary under our present circumstances. He then proceeded with his paper, which is as follows : The Devonshire Association, now inaugurated, while professing to a certain extent to follow in the wake of the British association, takes literature and art under its cognizance as well as science. It does not demand much reflection to come to the conclusion that the step was an indispensable one -bo give the necessary stability and vitality to a provincial association. In a national undertaking sneh as that con tern-plated by the British Association the attention of the assembled savans would of course with propriety be confined to the all-engrossing objects of science ; but with an association which had to draw for its members on a province, and not on a nation, the case was very different. It was only to be expected that many of our most valued members would also have their names enrolled on tbe books of the larger association, and while they would be found to bring before the smaller body such of their lucrubations as they might deem in want of a friendly discussion before being submitted to a more public tribunal, it oomd not alwayB be anticipated that their most cherished and matured efforts would in every instance first be brought to light through the medium of an institution which had its laurels yet to win. It was, therefore, I think, wisely decided that though it was one of our fondest hopes that the association of the province might prove one of the most productive feeders in matters of science to the association of the empire, still there was room to expect that the Devonshire Association might perform a similar function in the pursuits of literature and art with regard to the national associations which make these avocations the object of their peculiar care. The watchful superintendence exercised over science, literature, and the arts by these several associations in their respective centres of national importance would thus, as regards our own country, become more widely felt by being reflected to us through the medium of an institution springing up among ourselves, and possessing many representatives of the larger bodies. Leaving the department of art for the present to be treated of by another, if there should now or hereafter be- one of our members who may feel disposed to take it up as his speciality, I now proceed to put the question, how may our association best promote the cause of literature in the province ? We propose to make our meetings annual, and therefore it is obvious that the papers presented must, to be worth anything, embody the results of the thought and reflection of the past year on the various forms of literary activity which have specially attracted the writers of the several papers. Thus one may feel it more congenial to his taste to register and chronicle the progress or otherwise of poetry during the year. He may take in the whole ranee of the national poetry, or else may find mnoh to remark npon in the local efforts of the province. And surely, in a county abounding so much in natural beauties as our own, it might reasonably be thought that a supply of poets would always be at hand, as it is well known that there is no lack of artists with hearts which beat in intimate sympathy with the varied attractions of their native soil. It is not tor me just now to show how fully such anticipations have been realised. Satisfied with pointing out the field of labour, I leave it to other labourers, or other occasions, to enter upon it. I am well assured that a yearly chronicle and critique of the year's national or local poetry, which would be thus still fresh in men's memories, would reach most favourably alike on the minds of the discussers of its merits, and the mind of the author himself, if it should be' his lot toj become acquainted with a well-conducted discussion of the kind in our yearly transactions. The blending of the spoken with the written critique would thus impart a flavour of reality to the whole, which a written criticism alone, without the oral commentary, could not be expected to possess. And if such would be the result with regard to poetry, where only a limited number can be supposed to be endowed with the necessary taste and discrimination to giye their opinion any weight, what may we not look for in the reviews and criticisms whien may annually come out at our tribunes of the historical performances of the year? It is not every year that a Macau-lay writes, or a Fronde elaborates, his paradoxical re-ad j as t- iucwj om Historical iacts. we cannot every vear nave our fancies tickled by the assiduous essays of a Buckle to prove in all seriousness that the movements of mankind are as inexorably governed by the narrow limits of a table of statistics as those of an automaton are controlled by the workings of the internal machinery, which gives it the temporary appearance it presents of spasmodic life. No ! a style like Macanlay's, if we are ever to see the like again, can never more flow from the pen which death has rendered powerless of the great master who gave it all its life and beauty ! while Buckled statistics, which seemed so likely to receive so many additions from the large collections of MSS. he has left behind him, can never again, perhaps, be taken up with the same unfaltering zeal which animated him who breathed out his life near Damascus among the Arabs of the desert in the endeavour to add to his already vast accumulations of unsuspected lore. The minds which reflect their own personality on the great facts of the past must be as changing as the lights which they reflect, but there never can be any lack of history for the busy workers of this association. The very age in which we live is history itself in a sense in which no preceding age has ever been Caught up and chronicled by the telegraph, and wafted on the wings of the press, there are but few actions of any note which can now-a-days escape becoming historical. 'Nor is this all ; the rapidity with which the tidings fly is such that the voices of nations pronounces its award long before the solitary student can, in laboured periods, pronounce the approbation or the censure which he thus hands down to posterity. Be it ours, then, to watch the awards of peoples; and in the critiques, which may be read or spoken before us yearly, let us seek to confirm or to modify the judgments of the hour as the sentence of calm reflection, unbiassed by prejudice, or indecent haste, would lead us to decide. Nor do I wish to pass by what I may term the literature of science without some comment. I believe that, as the technical formula of science becomes more fruitful of results, the more it is simplified in statement, and so extended in application, just so is the literary style in which scientific results are made patent to what I may term " the lay mind" capable ot very eoil?-61 improvement, day which beholds a more general adaptation of every-dsy language to those every-day phenomena of science, which, however, are not discovered every day, will, I believe, also witness a more general devotion of public attention to investigations, which grow in interest as they grow in familiarity. We cannot forget that a movement in favour of the general cultivation of science more especially natural science has everywhere set in. Science can no longer be considered the especial property of the professional or so-called scientific man. The great work of naturalisation has commenced. The old attempts to incrast the works of nature, fossils and all, with a fossillike nomenclature, inastistically compounded from the dead tongues, have proved what I must be pardoned for terming, at least in a uterary point of view, a dead failure. The time cannot be far distant when the barbarous quasi-classical names by which chemists, botanists, and others thought they explained everything by simply naming their tools, will be consigned to the tomb of all the Capulets, with the defunct ryno-phagon of the barber, and the bostrukizon of the hair-dresser. Everything which brings the term of science to rival the simplicity of the workB of nature will, I am sure, admit the student nearer to the discovery of nature's secrets. In this way may literature be the handmaid of science, as well as the revealer or many a secret of her own- Poetry, history, antiquarian lore, criticism, nay, style itself, by the use of a stricter method and a more natural development, will thus effect much towards a return to unpretending simplicity. An association with views like ours may contribute much to this result. I shall think myself happy if any thought which. I have now thrown out may point out the w&vtto youne aspirants, and shew how we may at our annual meetings advance the true interests of literature in tnis province. The rev. gentleman resumed nia seat amid loud applause, and a cordial vote of thanks was awarded to him for his very valuable paper. LITEEAEY GLEANINGS. ENGLAND'S CLAIM TO GIBRALTAR. (PBOV THE HISTOBX OP GIBBALIA3. BY CAPTACT SATBB.) It has been recently urged that England is guilty of a political immorality in retaining possession of Gibraltar. The views entertained by some in favour of the emancipation of our colonies have led to discussions on the question of our legitimate right to occupy certain dependencies. The particular phase of political affairs which led to and justified the capture and temporary retention having passed away, it is affirmed that England has no grounds for keeping Gibraltar, and that it would be only an act of justice were she to restore the fortress to Spain. More than this ; it is suggested that the power of Spain is rapidly reviving, and that ere long she may become sufficiently vigorous to wrest from us what we now hold by superior force. Are these arguments and assumptions correct ? Has England not only no just claim to Gibraltar, but has she been guilty of a political sin in keeping possession of it for a century and a half? Does the slow regeneracy of Spain justify the supposition that it will produce armies and navies strong enough to wage war with England and retake Gibraltar ? This fortress first fell into our hands by capture. True, it was originally surrendered to the national sovereignty by the Archduke Charles, but seeing that he had no power of himself to keep possession of it, it was suffered to lapse into the hands of the English without opposition. It was because the legality of the title of possession thus given to England was doubtful that the formal cession in perpetuity was insisted upon at the Conference of Utrecht. When the cession was confirmed, the Rock was in the safe keeping of England ; the tenth article of the Treaty of Utrecht therefore merely secured the possession of the fortress to Great Britain by an incontrovertible right. " The Catholic King," says that article, " as regards himself and all his successors, yields by this treaty to the Crown of Great Britain the city and castle of Gibraltar, &c. We hold the place by virtue of legal grant, and it is no argument to say that, because Spain surrendered it in her weakness, she has a right to claim it in her regeneracy. (Spain surrendered Gibraltar "absolutely, with all manner of right for ever without any exemption or impediment whatsoever." Can she now deny the gift, or is England called upon to restore what she has been solemnly granted in perpetuity ? But apart from the question of legal retention, there is another consideration. The history of the past century and a half shows us that not only was Spain at no time strong enough to retake Gibraltar, but that she was unable to hold it aeainst attack. Restore the fortress to her to-morrow : how long would she retain it ? Just so long as France might choose , to leave her in possession of it. Were England to give up Gibraltar she would be committing a far more serious political immorality than she can be guilty of by keeping it. She would I drop the apple of discord among the nations of Europe, and infallibly originate an era of war. Gibraltar under the English is an impregnable position defying attack, and therefore not likely to be assailed, Gibraltar under the Spaniards would be a third-rate fortress, the ambition of every great maritime power, and the prey of the most unscrupulous. Never since the Treaty of Utrecht has Spam claimed Gibraltar as a right ; every demand has been put forward on the footing of the grant of an equivalent. It is true that Pitt the elder, Stanhope, and Townshend, at different times suggestedfthe restoration of Gibraltar, but never on the ground of illegal possession. Pitt offered it only to gain what he considered far greater advantages. In later days ms opinions vastly changed, and, as Lord Chatham he protested vehemently against the surrender of the place. Even the Spanish historians do not dispute that by the Treaty of Utrecht England acquired an incontrovertible right to Gibraltar. Montero says, " This treaty was most burdensome to Spain, who lost almost all her possessions in Europe. By it Philip V. ceded totGreat Britain on his part, and on the part of his successors, the entire right of possession of Gibraltar. By this means the insolent and violent usurpation by Admiral Rooke was rendered legitimate, and the King of Great I c0d fr?ni that moment call his own without a blush that marent fortress, which had previously been wrested (arrancada) from the Spanish Crown." To cede Gibraltar would be to renounce our freedom of navigation in the Mediterranean ; our commerce in those seas would be paralysed ; we should forfeit the safety of the overland route, depreciate our power in the East, and lose all influence in Morocco. Are we called upon suddenly to make these sacrifices, which might perhaps adorn the inauguration of the mill enium ? As to the second ground on which it is urged that England ought to restore the fortress, namely, because regenerated Spain .will soon become powerful enough to wrest it from her it is a visionary apprehension. Is it to be supposed that the next century will see Spam in a condition to assemble a more powerful army, a more formidable artillery, a more numerous navy, than she sent against Gibraltar in 1782 ? Is it not on record that the siege of the Rock in that vear was among the most celebrated undertakings in the history of wanare f xne most oustinguisnea leaaers, an immense ncdy of troops, a vast siege train, and stupendous batteries, aided by a considerable navy, was brought against the fortress. The number of shot thrown into the little city equalled the ammunition expended by the English at Sebastopol. Vet all was vain against British courage and those stubborn walls. On that siege Spain lavished all her treasure and resources, but she was baffled. Are we to believe that she will soon be in a condition to renew those mighty eflbrts ? The Gibraltar of the present day is more invulnerable than it has been since its walls were first armed. Almost impregnable by nature, it has been rendered completely so by art. When the floating batteries, in conjunction with the armies of Fiance and Spain, attacked it in 1783. there were but 100 guns mounted on the Rock. Now 700 pieces of ordnance are in position. Spam may indeed have turned the crisis of her degeneracy, but what time must elapse before she can enter the lists with the military and maval power of England 1 No fortress in the world is in such a state of defence as the Rock at the present moment ; and notwithstanding the oninion of the most learnnrt scholars, we may rest assured that the day is far distant wiien regeneratea apain snail dictate to England the terms of its capitulation. Lanuseer's Ajjisals, Whatever animal he represents, its form and colour, the exact degree of roughness or smoothness of its covering, its asre, its wild or courtly training. all are rendered with precision in the simplest manner, apparently without efibrt, and alwayB without misadventure. He has given-characteristic expression to all his subjects, and has depicted the feelings and passions of a.TiiTna.ia as successfully as others have represented human vovs and sorrows : and there is scarcely one of bis pictures which does not convey some useful lesson to mankind, taught by these animal creations. The dog, the horse, and the red-deer are, perhaps, his peculiar favourites, and those which he has most perfectly uittsterea ; put there is no limit to his range of subjects, not- wiEnsianaing ms preierenee lor some ; and his marvellons skill in execution- combined with the deen sentiment which nervadps all his works, would place him among the great painters of age. or country. x ue History oj tie JCoyal Academy of Arte. LIGHT. What gives the iris to the dove. The redbreast to the robin bold, And beauty to the bird of love ? In light we see these charms unfold. What shows the bloom upon the peach, And streaks the rosy pome with red ? What finds us grapes beyond our reach, And luscious berries in their bed? What gives the blushing rose her hue, The lily robes in spotless white, The sweet forget-me-nots make blue? What is it? nothing else than light. What clears the lowering brow of care, And calls the gloomy soul all bright? The night of sin, what makes it fair? 'Tis Christ; and He indeed is light. Sir Waitee Scott's Fikst Appearance as a Royal ACinmaciur. At the anniversary dinner of the Royal Academy, in 1828, Sir Walter Scott was present, for the first time, as an honorary member, having been elected Antiquary to the Academy the year before. After the usual toasts, Sir Thomas Lawrence said, " Before we part, I have to propose the health of one with whose presence we are honoured, and of whom it may well be said, in the words of the poet he most resembles, ' If he had been forgotten, It had been as a gap in our great feast, And all things unbecoming. " Lisle, who was present, says, " The enthusiasm with which the toast was received exceeded anything of the kind I ever witnessed ; and when Scott rose to reply, the applause for some time prevented his speaking. As soon as he could be heard, he said. 'Mr. President, When you acquainted me with the honour the Royal Academy had done me by including me amongst its members, you led me to believe the place would be a sinecure. But I now think that I reckoned without my host, for on my first appearance here, as a member. I am rnpri on to perform one of the most arduous of duties, that of mouviUH ou. no uucu, Ai a w wuiuB, leuuxneu thanks.' The History of the Royal Academy of Arte. By William Sandby. Cavouh's Earlt Taste ?or Dismissals. In 1816, his parents brought him and his brother to Geneva. They spent some time at Presigne, at my grandfather's. I am tempted to allude to this visit in consequence of my father having more than once discribed to me the impression produced by uanuiie de Uavour on his first coming to Presigne. He was men an arcn nttie letiow, witn a countenance full of animation, indicative of decision of character ; very entertaining in his ways, and with an endless flow of childish frolic and run. He wore a little red coat, which gave hirp a droll and at the same time a determined look. On his arrival, he was under a good deal of excitement, and stated to my grandfather that the postmaster at Geneva had given them such execrable horses that he ought to be dismissed. " I insist upon his being dismissed," he repeated again and again. "But," replied my grandfather, " I cannot dismiss the postmaster; the first syndic alone has that nower." " Well. then. I mnst have an audience of the first syndic." ' You shall have it to-morrow," replied my grandfather ; and he at once wrote to his friend, Mr. Schmidtmeyer, then first syndic, and told hirn he was going iu bcuu mm a very amusing nine man , ana, accoraingiy, the next day the child appeared at Mr. S.'s, and was received in due form. With perfect composure he made three profound bows, and then in a clear voice preferred his complaint, and called for judgment. On his return, as soon as he perceived my grandfather, he exclaimed, " Well, he will be dismissed 1" He was then hardly six years old ; his taste for dismissals therefore began early. Bevtinicece of the Life of Count Cacmr. By W. De La Rive. CHILDREN. Come to me, O ye children ! For I hear you at your play, And the questions that perplexed me Have vanished quite away. Ye open the eastern windows, That look towards the sun, Where thoughts are singing swallows, And the brooks of morning run. In your hearts are the birds and the sunshine, In your thoughts the brooklet's flow, But in mine is the wind of autumn, And the first fell of the snow. Ah ! what would the world be to us If the children were no more ? We should dread the desert behind us Worse than the dark before. What the leaves are to the forest, With light and air for food, Ere their sweet and tender juices Have been hardened into wood-That to the world are children ; Through them it feels the glow Of a brighter and sunnier climate Than reaches the trunks below. Come to me, 0 ye children ! And whisper in my ear What the birds and the winds are singing In your sunny atmosphere. For what are all our contrivings, And the wisdom of our books, When compared with your caresses, And the gladness of 3 our looks ? Ye are better than all the ballads That ever were sung or said; For ye are living poems, And all the rest are dead. Longfellow. Division of Labour. By this division we mean the assignment of some particular task or dnt.u oom, instead of each undertaking everything turn, and chanS from one kmd of work to another. The rudiments Tl diversion are found in every family, arisinc wfamZ . t.t from the employment of each in th S w, onmiunities, found to be feest adapted. Thewife and L cKdSn 1 iJm8 ? aid in the chase, but can perform Smw i.8? &le to rtikejogJItuTot htrendCthUtie8 man, when sick or wounded, or disabled I fa. a from holding his place beside the irlTC t wwght of years the tillage of the ground where any land is cultivated. Her we have the rudiments of trades and callings. The gradual, onward progress to a high state of civilization to cities and wealth, has often been traced in a single generation. Under the forcing stimulus of the discovery of gold, we have Been this change pass through all its stages, almost like the rapid succession of slides in a magic lanthorn. First came tbm settler's family, tilling the lonely waste ; then followed tn hiring of herdsmen, and the location of other families, forns-ing a neighbourhood. Next were the stores or shops, to supply the wants or the prosperous and increasing community; tbm merchant and factor, to Bell their produce in their own and foreign lands ; and the Danker soon was required to supply the means of payment in transactions which before wera generally mere exchanges of one thing for another. Tbes were rapidly followed, as the population increased, by all tb arts, trades, and professions of a thoroughly civilised conuno-nity. A Sandy-book of Social Intereourte. Politkni Economy far the Million. By William B. Corley. Etty's Subjects. He was an enthusiast in his art ; not fitful, but steady and untiring, and thus attained an eminent position in his profession. He was much pained by the frequent complaints which were made on the score of morality (and it must be admitted not without reason) in regard to tim subjects he chose, and the free and easy and somewhat coura display of the female form in his pictures. While these reprehensions were intended only to condemn the unwise selection of some of his subjects and his somewhat indelicate mode aC treating them, he seemed to feel them as implying a charg that he was wanting in that moral purity which he eminently possessed ; the fact being, that he was himself so innocent of mind that he did not see the evil which others found in son of his works. Th HUtory qf the Royal Society qf Artt. By William Sandby. Sir Thomas Lawrence's Painting of the Congress nv Arc. l a-Chape lle . This was a noble commission for hsj received his usual prices for each work, and 1000 for travelling expenses and loss of time and likewise added greatly to his tame. tie said, 1 lOOK to tne nonuur i uavo receiveu, ams the good fortune of being thus distinguished in my profession, as the chief good resulting from it, for many unavoidable circumstances make it of less pecuniary advantage." A wooden house of three rooms was shipped by the Government to re ceive his pictures at Aix-la-Chapelio, out it did not arrive tnem in time ; and in the interval the magistrates had fitted up th Hotel de Ville as his painting-room, the best he declared that he ever had. It could hardly be expected that all theas portraits would be of equal merit ; some few, especially the " Pope and his Minister' (his best works), the "Emperors of Austria and Prussia," the ' Due de Richelieu," and " Blucher" are admirable. The great "Duke of Wellington," is unfortunately one of the least successful. The painter came back go England laden with honours and gifts; he was elected a Member of the Academy of St. Luke, at Rome, of the Academies of Florence, Venice, Bologna, Turin, Vienna, and Denmark and of the American Academy of fine arts ; and was presented with diamond rings bx the Emperor of Austria and the King of Prussia, and a dessert-service of Sevres china by the King of France, who also conferred on him the Cross of the Legion of Honour. Canova conveyed to him the wish of the Academy of St. Luke to possess his portrait. " I have never painted myself, except when a boy, he replied ; " and have never bee painted by others. I could wish, indeed, to defer the task till asre had eiven my countenance some lines of meanincr, and my hair, scanty and srrev as it is, some silvery hues, like those ot our venerable president, Mr. West." The History of the Soyii Academy of Arte. By William Sandby. THINGS WORTH KNOWING. M. Jaset says that an infusion of wild thyme will, im many cases of whooping cough and affections of the air, passages, remove the complaint when all other remedies fail. Lancet. Sound Advice. A young farmer asked an old Scotch man for advice in his pursuits. He told him what bad bee the secret of his own success m farming, and concluded with the following warning : " Never, Sandie, never, above all things, never get in debt; but if you do, let it be for manure. To Preserve Eggs in Lime. Take two or three lime stones about the size of half bricks, pour sufficient cold water on them, and stir it up for three or four days ; let it settlev then pour the clear water into an earthen vessel, in which place the eggs, and they will keep fresh for many months. Eggshells being lime, lime-water strengthens the shell and keeps the air from acting on the animal matter. I have practisea tms tor over rorty years, and have always had tresft eggs as long as my stock lasted. John Greenhorn. Ulycerine. This is a good substitute for cod-liver oil : it may be taken in tea. Although not a good substitute for sugar, it still contains large quantities of carbon and hydrogen, and in that way may be taken instead of cod-liver oil. It is used also to preserve animal matter. Fish have been nreserTed- I believe, in glycerine for seven or eight years, and they have) penectiy retained tneir colour and their freshness. It has been recommended on this account as a preserver of food, which, when kept in it, is free from any taste. Lanketter't Utem qf Animate. Jerusalem Artichokes as Food for Cattle. Th cattle breeders of France are just now paying great attentiom to the use of this root for food. Among the advantages it presents are these : it does not exhaust the soil, it reproduce itself for twenty-five to thirty years, and it requires little or no manure. It is said that almost any kind or soil will produce from 126 to 130 hectolitres per hectore, or about 388 English bushels per acre, and that good lands will yield, aa much as double that quantity, and up to 90 tons per acre ; the green tops are given to cattle and sheep, and the day stalka are used for burning. It is stated to be unequalled for health and stamina. It has never yet been diseased like the unlucky potato, or liable to failure like the turnip; it is not affected by cold or drought, nor obnoxious to insects, and remains in tho ground without injury as long as convenient. How it is Borne. It is strange how differently a deep trouble will affect different persons. One cries aloud for sym- gathy, with outstretched hands of angniBh. Another clasps is hands tightly over the poisoned arrow, to conceal it from all eyes, and silently dies of the pain. Another affects jollity, and rushes wildly from one excitement to another, hoping for nothing, caring for nothing, save never to be left one moment, alone with his misery. Which of all these is the greater sufferer, God and his own soul only knoweth. To fly is no always to shun. He who placing a chair for Misery accepts him for an inevitable guest, and goes on with hisordinary employments all the same as if he were not there, stands the surest chance to be rid of him, or grow indifferent to his unwelcome presence. To all, however, it is not given to do this; but at least even for them there cometh an end to all things. Fanny Fern. WIT AND HUMOUR, MARRIAGE BY ADVERTISEMENT. Do people ever answer matrimonial advertisements? Far instance, is there any lady living who would ever condescend! to forward a reply to such a one as this . "Wanted, bv a Widower, to correspond with a lady, in th middle ranKaf society, with a view to Matrimony. Must be between 3o and 46 years of age, of good character, moderately educated, and of a cheerful disposition. This is bond fid and the strictest honour will be observed. Address A 9 at thai printer's. " Beware of widows," was the caution of the elder Me. Weller; and to judge by this advertisement, ladies who fear insult on the subject of their age, had best beware of widower. What a brute the man must be to ask a lady to confess la him that she is flve-and-thirtv ! Wa renoii from Snh a with virtuous disgust, and cite another notice, cut from the "A Young Man, aged 23, with an income of 300 per annum-wishes to meet with a vonnir ladv. with a viw nr. Vfa. Those wishing for a portrait must enclose thirteen stanms Address X, Post-office, Sheffield." There are sharp pladea at Sheffield, and X is clearly one of them. To our mind his advertisement reads simply like a tra to catch a lot of postage stamps ; for curiosity ia by no mean an uncommon female failing, and many a girl, we fear, viovuA forward him the thirteen stamps, if only just to see whether X be good-lookinr or not. We should onrselvea mniinn ha7a. a guess that he is not ; for whatever be in other points hi symmetry of feature, it seems plain enough to ua, from the nature of his notice, that he has a moat enormous quantity of Why is it vulcrar to send a telearram ? Because it fl making use of flash language. Why are indolent persons beds too short for them ? Ra. cause they are too long in them. iheword ot command rresident Lincoln wonid lit tm give to the once-United States" As you were 1" What he will ave to give " As you weren't 1" tsweep : tshall 1 3ee you at the Music Hall tn.niirhfc- William ?" Dustman : "No, Joseph, that's a mt helnwma Punch. Milton says that many thistles grow upon Parnassus. That must be the reason why so many donkava hmwon ah mm base. A Frenchman was recently bargaining for half-a-dose sheep. ' What are you about ?'' said a friend. "Ihaveheant say,' replied Monsieur, " that if you want to make money, you must buy sheep and sell deer. I shall buy de sheep 11 sell de venison." Among the expedients adopted by the suttlers to sell com-traband liquor to the soldiers in America, one is exceedingly novel. They drop a couple of peaches into a bottle of whiskey, and sell the compound as " pickled peaches I" A more irreverent expedient is to have a tin can made and painted like a hymn-book, and labelled, " The Bosom Companion I" Kobert Hall was unhappy in his courtship of Miss SteeL While he was yet smarting beneath the disappointment he went out to tea. The lady of the house said, with no very gooii taste, " Yon are dull, Mr. Hall ; we have no polished 3teel hare t entertain you." " Oh, madam, that's not the slightest consequence ; yon have plenty of polished brass 1" A one-legged Welsh orator, named Jones, was pretty successful in bantering an Irishman, when the latter askedl him, " How did yon come to lose your leg ?" " Well," saiol Jones, "on examining my pedigree and looking np my descent, I found there was some Irish blood in me, and becoming convinced it was all settled in that left le?. I had it cu off a& once." "Be the powers." said Pat. "it ud av been a deuoed good thing if it had only settled in yer head." .bathing at tsouLOGNH. When you bathe at Bonlosaks. you should always take care to secure a bathing costume such as is usually worn by your sex. Last season nmr Rcnmrr iha didn't know the difference, walked off with his wife's costume, while Bhe retained his. It was bad enough for him, but whan must it have been for her ? EPIGRAM ON A PALE-FACED LADY WITH A RED-NOSEO HUSBAND. Whence it that in Clara's face the lily only has its It is because the absent rose has gone to paint her husband Cheap Jack. Where t? tte nuine glib-tongned-leather-lunged, ready-witted London graft upon a Yorkshire stock, who wou3 rSS 53 miiugB, ana men coming down in price would add a bread-tray, throw in three sUver spoons, anil tarn up with a hearth-broom, or a bridle, or a looking-glass, woeS the lot was "sold again" for half-a-crown. Where be hi gibes now ? hia flashes of merriment that were wont to set hi audience in a roar ? as when, for instance, having rapidly extolled the merits of his saws " I say, Sawney, yer new saw such a saw to saw as this 'ere saw saws. Why if yer were to putt it over night agen one of them trees yender, what d'ye think ud 'appen afore morn in ?" " Why I" cries out a man in the crowd, emboldened by the conviction that he ia down upon Jack this time, " Why I that it 'ad sawed the tre through, oi course." " O. ve'er a noor sort, von are. St.nsr yer 'eele down your month, do," says Jack, deprecatingly amid roars of laughter from the crowd. " No, yerd find that somebody a precious sight sharper nor you nor the saw uM 'at,a uralVcu? nfnnth it T f O ' m Amusing Scene. An amusing scatia iwmwl of w Chester assizes the other day A case, Cowap v. the Londom and North-Western Railway," was about to be heard, whe Mr. Justice Crompton observed that he happened to hS some little interest in railway Dronertu "LaBSSS, !SL5 the jury might be in the saW poition, so if either of tb learned counsel had any objection to make to any one hfc better do it. After a pause, his Lordahi n f to any one ?-Mr. Welsbyl Only Tc ahe ffl" 7r 5 Mr. drove , I did not know tiat the judge was onfeSfe any caseHis Lordship: 8omeofjZ mX e missioners in matters of this kind, 7and wouk? naSSLS' able as myself to try the case -TwiTv,. perfectly aa defendants) : I have rtoS t ? X l h&S ant's case pretty well.-(jjK? ut i the de(en4-trustee.-Aaother JoreTl iXf CS : 1 m lway And I am a dehmrnr. wf shareholder. His Lordship object tmSSl I arQ afraid & this mBmSSSbm1 chaa who are mmSSf, ihe I go on the same mSSh. was engaged for plaintiff) : We'll Wve nKKZ" your Urdship.-tLaughterV Th eL t 0tl? the jury were not cXt" ZJJS" then, heard, ha arrangement was come to oisS nNTANE0I!s CuaE the Tooth-AcHB.-Buntar seS?ftC! the"amediate and painless destruction of tte sensitive nerves of decayed teeth, and forms a complete stopping, rendering extraction unnecessary; it can be had of any chemist at la lid per packet, of whom also may be heal Cooper's NruaAiocrs, an effectual remedy for Awe, Tie Ooto reux, Nerve Affections, Ac., price Is lid per bottle.

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