Chapter I: WAS aroused from my sleep one morning about three o'clock, by the (1)

alarm of fire. A bright light was shining into my room, and casting its tinted rays in flashes over the wall, pallid by the beams of a December moon, like the flickering glances of hectic over the consumptive cheek of beauty. On going to the window, I discovered that the fire was but a short distance from the hospital, and in broad view. A brilliant fire so near me, overcame my natural apathy, and packing on some extra habiliments, I sallied out to see what havoc this mighty element was making among the time-worn and thickly-tenanted buildings of the purlieus of L---- street.

The engines were already at work, when I reached the spot. A dwelling-house was on fire, and the flames were shooting merrily up from the roof and windows, tinged or obscured for a brief moment by the occasional flood of water which the bounteous hose lavished upon the most flagrant portions of the enkindled domicil--a powerful and efficient _antiphlogistic_, as it struck me at the time. I made my way, with others, into an alley which led to the rear of the house, with some faint hope that I might be of service in arresting the flames, or at any rate, enjoy a fair and near view of the fire, without the danger of being trodden under foot. The whole back part of one wooden building was in a blaze, and the persons in the yard were pointing to it with evident marks of interest and agitation. I did not have long to wait, to be informed of the subject of their solicitude. Presently, a figure shot through the second-story window, sash and all, and bounded to the ground. He rolled and plunged about, and endeavored to tear off his burning garments; for, singularly enough, he was dressed in pantaloons, boots, and vest, as if he had not been in bed; his hair was entirely singed off, and his shirt was fast consuming from his arms. In a moment, another one similarly dressed, but without shoes, rushed down stairs, and tumbled into the middle of the yard, uttering most pitiable cries. Astonished at such a sudden apparition, the spectators scarcely knew what to do; and I was equally at a loss, for an instant; but running up to the one who lay prostrate on the ground, where he had just pitched from the door, with the aid of some of the more wakeful beholders, I extinguished the fire about his neck and shoulders, as effectually as was practicable. He would hardly permit any one to touch him, but kept thrusting his burning arms up to his face, and thus adding unconsciously to the mischief. Having smothered the flames, and put him in charge of some of the by-standers, who had now generously volunteered their assistance, I went to take a view of the other. I found him lying in the dirt, without any fire on his person, (it had been put out by others,) and rolling ceaselessly from side to side. When spoken to, he answered in a hurried and impatient manner.

Having made a rude litter out of boards, we had them laid on it, and carried to the hospital. As we emerged from the rear gate, the crowd, who had learned the nature of the occurrence, made way, and we were soon at the corner, around which the store was situated, from whence these unfortunate individuals had issued in the rear. Here their mother joined us. She made no violent manifestations of grief, as the litter went along, but walked by its side, occasionally coming nearer, and addressing a word to her sons, as they seemed to be more sharply tortured.

Having deposited them in one of the wards of the hospital, reserved for the reception of such cases, the first dressings were put on, and a slight anodyne and cordial were administered to them both, as they were greatly prostrated, especially the one who seemed to be the younger. Bottles of hot water, and bags filled with heated sand, were applied around their extremities. It was not long before one of them was restored to his natural warmth, and to a full sense of his wretchedness. But the other never recovered from the shock given to his nervous system, and rapidly sunk, as will be seen. His senses were in full activity, until near the last, and with a little agitation, attributable to the severity of his bodily injury, and to the prospect of the near approach of death, there was a degree of emotion, which was not to be assigned to so obvious a cause, and which led to the belief that something lay heavily on his mind, which he wished, yet hesitated to declare. His father appeared but once, and going to his bed, whispered a few words in his ear, and left him. He seemed not less distressed after this visit.

His mother came frequently, but was unable to remain constantly, or even a considerable part of the time, by his bed-side, from the distress which the view of his calamitous situation, and his terrible writhings under the agony of his burns, produced in her mind. She said very few words to him; and those only in the way of soothing and comforting his momentary distresses; but sat by the side of his low bed, and at every half unconscious toss that tore off strips of skin from his body, and exposed patches of the bleeding surface to the view of the mother, she raised up her arms and face, in the most pitiable excess of grief that the mind is capable of imagining. She might have been a study to the unhallowed gaze of an ambitious devotee of sculpture.

The patient (the younger, who is here alluded to, the other being comparatively out of danger,) tossed and turned so incessantly in bed, that it was almost impossible to keep any dressings on the excoriated parts. At the approach of night, his agitation increased. He continually complained of _rigor_, or chilliness, and inquired for some warm drink, which, when presented to him, he rejected, with appearances of disgust. I determined to set up with him a part of the night, in the hope of being able to relieve his sufferings, if not by bodily remedies, at least by such anodynes to the mind as might be administered in words. I was not without some expectations that he might be induced to make me the participator of the secret uneasiness, which various circumstances had led me to believe he was laboring under.

One of the junior assistants was sent down to see if he could contribute to the comfort of the patient, by changing his dressings, and came back with the report, that the patient would not allow of his ministrations, but desired my presence.

'Did you not take off any of the coverings from his arms, face, and neck?' I asked.

'No; when I went in, he was discussing some grave subject with himself, about murders foul and dire, coughs and cords; and when I touched my hand to his neck, he repulsed my arm, and I thought he meant '_nec sinit esse feros_;' that he would not permit me to lay rough hands on his neck.'

'You should not be rough, Mr. Aster.'

'Oh, I was quite otherwise. So, I removed to a little distance, and listened to his oracular mutterings. He made me the recipient of some dubious matters--rather unutterable secrets.'

'What did he say?'

'Why, he first broke into violent denunciations of certain persons, and accused them, particularly his brother, of urging him on to the commission of some desperate deed; then he called on his mother and sisters, and poured out entreaties to some unknown accuser. From all of which I inferred, that he had a hand in the fire; in other words, '_Fieri fecit_.''

'I have had some suspicions of that kind; but we must be silent touching such involuntary communications.'

'Then, suddenly coming to himself, he began to stare around, and seeing us standing about, he collapsed into dead silence, and pulling the bed-clothes over him, remained invisible. Shortly, I drew near his bed, and asked him if he would have any thing. 'Please send Mr. F---- here,' he replied, and I left him.'

* * * * *

IT was late in the evening before I could arrange to be with the patient. I found him with less appearance of delirium than might have been expected from the augmented severity of his sufferings. He remained restless and agitated, until about one in the morning, speaking very little, but occasionally murmuring inarticulately in his slumbers. On becoming more calm, he manifested much solicitude for his fellow sufferer.

'Doctor, how does my brother do? Do you think he will get over it?'

He had been removed to a different ward, that he might not be affected by the situation of the other, and was doing well. I stated as much.

'I feel cold, very cold,' he continued. 'Wouldn't some of that warm drink give me a little heat? No! I've tried that; it burns my throat. Yet, I'm all dried up inside.'

'Here is some cool water with wine.'

'Cool! The sound is enough to make me shiver. But I will take some, for the sake of the experiment.'

He touched a little of it to his lips, and then drank the whole of the potion. It agreed with him better than warm drinks, which were more suitable to his condition. Then sinking into quietude, he seemed about to be falling asleep. All at once, he burst out into exclamations of horror and alarm, and cries for assistance; vehemently declared his innocence; and in the course of his ramblings, made a complete exposure of his secret. He terminated by springing up in bed, and attempting to jump on to the floor. His eyes fell upon me, and he seemed to recover his mental faculties as speedily as he had lost them. He reclined back on his pillow, and said, with much earnestness:

'Doctor, what have I been uttering? Have I revealed any thing?'

'You have disclosed some things which I should not hear, except in the confidence of a physician,' I replied.

'What!--any thing that would criminate me?'

'Yes, you and others.'

'I see that I have unwittingly taught you my secret. Curse this wild delirium! But on whom should the curse fall! I will trust you. I know that until I am dead, you will not be able to betray any thing; and after that, it will be at your option, at any rate, to make that public which will endanger the life of another.'

'Have no fears of me, if there is a possibility that any one may receive injury from my information.'

The patient, whose name was Ludovico, being satisfied with my assurance of secrecy, proceeded to give a short narration of the facts.

* * * * *

'My brother was of a very impetuous temper, and always
exercised a kind of authority over me, to which in fact I
willingly acceded, from a consciousness of his superior
knowledge. He had conceived some splendid project for sudden
aggrandizement, which, to be carried into effect, required the
aid and countenance of my father. One dark and stormy night
in October, about one year since, he took me to a house in
the northern part of the city, and introduced me into a room,
where, by the light of a dimly-burning lamp, a half dozen men
were busily engaged around a table in looking over some rude
sketches and diagrams. Pieces of paper were marked over with
Arabic numerical characters, and letters of the alphabet,
arranged in squares, and perched upon pen-marked fabrics, which
looked like houses or castles, churches, and prisons. Flags
which resembled the signals of barbarian nations, were floating
from the pinnacle of some lofty edifice, or planted on the
summit of hills whose ranges extended off in parallel lines,
or in angular courses far into the boldly-etched and pointed
features of the landscape. These delineations were in correct
perspective, and were evidently drawn up and embellished by a
master hand, with some remote and magnificent intent, which was
not perceptible to my uninitiated sense.

'Principal among those around the table, was a stout
gray-headed man, whose heavy frame and badly-jointed limbs,
which were freely exercised, apparently with a view of setting
off their ungracefulness, and the general shabbiness of his
attire, showed him to be the chief spirit of the adventurers.
His lean fingers, at the end of so ill-managed an arm, hardly
warranted the supposition that he was the draughtsman of
the elegant sketch, over whose surface he was passing his
pencil, and indenting the denominative syllables on the
bosom of some winding river, which cut its way between the
prominent and ornamented insignia that formed a part of the
file of look-outs--for such I decided them to be, after having
ascertained the subject of their deliberations. The other
members of the conclave were of a like description; all were
of shabby exterior, but the fire of an unnatural enthusiasm
shone in their eyes, and spoke out in their gestures. They
were evidently expecting my brother, who had them seemingly in
control, and was only of them insomuch as he joined in their
views and projects. They all erected themselves in various
attitudes on his entrance, and the speaker of the company broke
out in these words:

''Ha, Petro! we have been looking over this drawing, and there
is nothing wrong about it, unless it is this hill. I think some
one nearer should have been chosen.'

''Wrong?--there is not a particle wrong. The main points of
observation have been carefully selected. Here is Philadelphia;
there is Ludgate church; here is Mount Taurus; on the summit
of that hill is a very tall pine, which I have sketched; this
dwelling-house (of friend Soper's) is the last post before you
reach New-York; and here is New-York.'

''But I think that mountain is at too great a distance from
Philadelphia, to see distinctly. Don't you think so?' continued
the speaker.

''Why, you owl! it is but fifteen miles; and a good telescope
will discern a man's features at ten or twelve miles.'

''Well, if we have the countenance of Providence, we shall
succeed,' he meekly replied.

'They were engaged in a scheme for transmitting intelligence
from one city to another, by means of telegraphs, for the
purpose of taking advantage of the rise or fall in stocks,
and of speculating in lottery tickets. I have introduced this
little scene, in order to show you the influences by which my
brother was wrought upon. They spent the greater part of the
night in discussing the measures, and Petro in enforcing the
details of his arrangements. Those who were present, beside
my brother Petro, could not have handed over a dollar, at the
solicitation of a surcharged pistol, held horizontally at their
vest button, and backed by the imperious proclamation, 'Stand
and deliver, or die!' He was the only one who could move the
enterprise so heavily constructed, and he was not equal to the
whole effort. Though moneyless adventurers, his coadjutors were
cunning enough to place upon his shoulders the burden of the
undertaking, in the faith of their absolute necessity as a part
of the machinery.

'Petro was engaged with his whole soul in the success of the
experiment, and nothing could deter him from prosecuting it.
Hard were his struggles to devise some means for raising the
requisite funds. Every thing, I believe, passed through his
mind, short of actual robbery, and it was not long before
this entered into his calculations. The frequent meetings
held with his associates, at which I was sometimes present,
and the artful but seemingly innocent protestations of their
honest leader, served to keep up his ambition, and to nourish
his ardent and chimerical aspirations. We were at that time
clerks in a store, which was filled with the most precious
commodities; but the building itself was of wood, and of quite
inferior appearance. We lodged on the second floor. My brother
formed the design of removing the most valuable part of the
goods, and setting fire to the store. The plan was not unfolded
to me until after it had been completed, and every thing had
been prepared. My opposition was useless. The gang were made
acquainted with it, and agreed to assist on a certain night.

'A considerable quantity of the stock had been abstracted by
degrees, for a number of weeks previous; and on that evening
(the one you well know) after the principals had left, we began
to transport the boxes and packages, assisted by the others, to
the house of the prime accomplice, where they were secure from
search. The avails were to enable us to realize our glittering
dreams of wealth.

'In the back room, on the second floor, we had made a
collection of the most combustible substances, and had so
placed them, that they would in a moment after the application
of the torch be ignited, and communicate the fire to the
partitions, bed, etc. A stove-pipe which passed out of the back
window had been disconnected with the stove, in order to allow
the smoke to escape readily; so that it might not, by issuing
through the crevices of the windows, particularly in the front
of the building, betray our attempt before the fire had got
fairly under way.

'We usually slept in the bed in the back part of this room, and
had planned to go to the theatre, and returning about twelve
o'clock, throw ourselves on to the bed in our clothes, and
lie till one or two in the morning, when we were to arise and
set fire to the apartment. If our plans succeeded, we were to
make it appear that we had laid down rather in liquor, had set
the candle by the side of the bed, and that it had caught the
drapery.

'Accordingly, to the theatre we went; actually got somewhat
tipsy, as we reflected on the hazardous nature of our
enterprise, and coming back about midnight, proceeded directly
to our chamber. We soon managed to procure a light. I pulled
off my shoes and coat, and threw myself on to the bed, for I
felt unwilling to contemplate the deed which we were on the
point of committing. I had worked myself up to the task, and
feared that my nerves might be unstrung by a survey of the
preparatives for our mischief-doing. My brother, however, felt
too deep an interest in the progress and result of the plan,
to think of repose; and commissioning me to 'tumble up' his
side of the bed, he took his position by the table, with a
book before him, which had one advantage over vacancy, that it
shut out the view of external objects, and opened the way to
reflection.

'I soon fell into a disturbed sleep, and dreamed that the whole
upper part of the house was in flames, and that my brother,
in endeavoring to escape out of the front door with some
valuable article about him, was seized by six or eight men, and
carried away to prison, in spite of his entreaties. I dreamed
also that I was standing in the door, and the whole building
suddenly gave way, and was about to fall upon my head. At this
I awoke in terror, but soon became sensible of my situation,
when I found my brother standing over me, and shaking me by the
shoulder.

'It was now about a quarter of three. Petro had prepared every
thing, even to a match, to insure speedy conflagration.

''Now then,' said he, 'nerve yourself for the consummation.
Take this match, and set fire to the bed-clothes, while I touch
this other pile with my candle.'

'He did so, and at the same moment my trembling hands applied
the torch to the light drapery of the bed. In an instant,
curtains, sheets, and all, were in a blaze, while at the other
end of the room the fire spread with astonishing rapidity among
the dry and flimsy stuffs which had been thrown together in a
heap. Seeing all things in such fine progress, we turned our
steps toward the door, which was about midway of the room, when
I recollected that we had left a small box of jewelry and money
at the foot of the bed.

''Stop, one moment, till I get the box,' said I, and directed
my steps to the bed.

''Make haste!' said my brother, as he stood with his hand on
the latch.

'I threw up the clothes at the foot of the bed.

''Where is it? I cannot touch it?' I asked.

''Under the right corner, between the sack and the ----'

''It has been stolen! Who has been in here? Haven't you put it
somewhere else?'

''Look under the head; it is surely there. Hurry!'

''Impossible!' The fire had become scorching hot, so that I
could endure it no longer. Not only the whole bed, but the
wainscot and window sashes had begun to burn. I was obliged to
make my way to the door.

''It was left there, I tell you; it MUST be got; it is all our
dependence for immediate funds. Ludovico, seek it once more!'
exclaimed my brother.

''Will you have me burn myself to death! My shirt-sleeves are
burnt off now. I hear some one coming.'

''It is your ears--try again!' returned Petro.

''I go--but you see!' I replied, as I turned back, holding up
my arms, which were already severely scorched.

''Here, take this stick,' cried Petro, wrenching off a strip
from the wall, and heaving it to me; 'that will save your
hands.'

'I thrust it into every part of the bed, which was now little
else than a mass of ashes, without striking the object of my
search. My arms suffered severely from the hot air of the room,
and the flames were almost licking my face.

''I can't endure it! I would not try any longer, for the
universe!' I exclaimed.

''Must we lose the most valuable part of the goods? What shall
we do?' said Petro, who now began to feel the warmth more
pressingly, from which he had been before but little disturbed,
there being a space in the middle of the room free from the
flames.

''The house,' said I, 'will soon fall over our heads, if we
don't escape; we shall be discovered; it can't be long before
the fire will be observed without.'

''Well, let the cursed thing go; it is not worth our lives.
Come, and let us get out, as quick as the devil will let us.'

''Ha! the door is locked!' he continued, in an alarmed voice,
and working at the latch violently, with both hands. 'Run to
the other door!'

'I ran and tried it; but it yielded no more than if it had been
barricaded with triple bolts.

''What was done with the key?' demanded Petro, searching
hastily in his pockets.

''It is on the outside. No one can have turned it since we went
to bed; nobody has been in.'

''Locked!--locked! No, it cannot be!' repeated my brother: 'it
is the heated air of the room. We must exert our whole strength
together.'

'We did so, and without effect. We were now in a truly
desperate situation, with no opportunity to escape, and the
fire already enveloping us.

''Madmen! fools! why did we delay! By heavens! we must not
perish here. Where are our friends!'

'At this time, the cry of 'fire!' was raised in the street,
and we heard the engines rattling along the pavements. We also
thought we distinguished the sound of persons ascending the
stairs, and called to them, but could not make them hear, in
consequence of the roaring of the flames, and the shouts of the
firemen in the street.

''Down with the door! round to the rear!' we understood
distinctly, and echoed back the unavailing cry, while the heavy
shock of a ladder, as it struck against the wooden walls, one
story above us, showed the advance of the preparations for
effecting an entrance in that quarter, and for quenching the
fire.

'My brother shouted for assistance, but the noise of the
engines and the cry of 'fire!' without, drowned his voice.

''It is useless,' said I; 'that bellowing rabble will split
their sides to out-bawl us.'

'Still more alarmed, and smarting with our burns, we now
attempted to raise the window. But, as if the fates conspired
against us, it refused to move!

''We shouted for help; we shrieked, till our voices were
hoarse. The floor under our feet had now kindled to flame,
and it was with difficulty we could prevent our clothes being
entirely consumed.'

''Come, Ludovico,' said Petro, 'we can live here but a few
minutes longer; let us make one more trial.'

''I can do no more; I shall die!' exclaimed I, sinking to
the floor in the apathy of despair. I was suffering the
most exquisite torture from my burns; and to relieve me of
my insupportable agony, I attempted to hasten my death by
strangulation. My brother, who was less burnt, still struggled
at the door. He turned and saw me stretched out in this
situation.

''Fool, fool!' he exclaimed, with angry energy; 'are you so
willing to die? Up! up! and assist me!'

'I arose. The room was now filled with flame. I could not for
a moment endure it. I flung myself again against the door in
desperation, and sank down breathless and exhausted. It was now
my brother's turn to be desperate; and for a moment, I forgot
my pain in witnessing his agonies. He shrieked for aid, and
cursed his hapless fate; and falling upon his knees, he invoked
alternately the powers of heaven and hell, weeping and sobbing
like a child.

'We once more arose, and resolved to make a final attempt to
save our lives.

''Here, Ludovico,' said Petro, 'we can get out of that
trap-door overhead. Why did we not think of it before?'

''There is a box on the other side,' said I, 'but I have not
strength to get it.'

'Petro rushed across the room, through the blaze, and bounded
back with a box which, on a less exciting occasion, he could
not have moved.

''You have burnt your face Petro, terribly,' said I.

''Curse the face! What care I for a scar! It will be better for
a disguise, should we be in danger of detection. Jump on to the
box, and support me!'

''It is vain, Petro; I have scarcely strength to stand.'

'Nevertheless, we exerted ourselves to the utmost, but after
almost superhuman efforts, we dropped again to the floor.

''We must die, Petro!' I exclaimed, in hopeless resignation;
'yet it is hard to die, while there may still be a possibility
of escape.'

'But my brother's courage revived, and we made one more
concentrated effort upon the door, and shook it a little.
We strained harder; it seemed to yield; yet harder; it was
illusion! The door was firmer than ever.

''Hell-fire! exclaimed Petro, in frenzy, 'I will balk these
infernal flames yet!'

'Saying this, he darted to the front window, but as rapidly
rushed back, scorched and miserably burned on his face and
hands, and with his hair and clothes on fire.

''Save yourself, and follow me!' he muttered through his closed
teeth, and running with all speed to the back window, without
stopping to open the blinds, or raise the sash, he plunged
head-foremost into the yard.

'My flesh was wretchedly burnt; each pore of my skin seemed
penetrated by a red-hot needle. Every fibre of my body was a
chain of fire; yet a chill ran through my frame; my limbs were
paralyzed with horror; the weight of a hundred tons seemed
pressing upon my breast.

'Before following my brother's example, I tremulously applied
my hand to the door, and on using a little strength forced it
open. Joyfully I hailed the passage, and rushed precipitately
down stairs. You know the rest.'

* * * * *

HERE the patient ended. The admission of air by the window was probably the cause of the door giving way to his touch. The unfortunate young man died early in the morning, in a state of savage delirium. It should be observed, that his narration was frequently interrupted by paroxysms of madness; but it was not necessary to preserve any thing more than the bare details. His brother went through a tedious period of recovery, during which time his infamous partners made way with the secreted property. No suspicion got abroad of the actors in this drama. Petro retired to some distant place, with what feelings, intents, or fate, I shall not attempt to describe.

FOOTNOTE:

[1] Our city readers will need no other evidence than the present sketch, that these 'Notes' are drawn from real life. We have often seen one of the scarified 'incendiaries' whose melancholy story is here narrated.

EDS. KNICKERBOCKER.

THE BIRCHEN CANOE.

IN the region of lakes, where the blue waters sleep,
My beautiful fabric was built,
Light cedars supported its weight on the deep,
And its sides with the sunbeams were gilt.

The bright leafy bark of the betula tree,
A flexible sheathing provides,
And the fir's thready roots drew the parts to agree,
And bound down its high-swelling sides.

No compass or gavel was used on the bark,
No art but the simplest degree,
But the structure was finished and trim to remark,
And as light as a sylph's could be.

Its rim is with tender young roots woven round,
Like a pattern of wicker-work rare,
And it glides o'er the waves with as lightsome a bound,
As a basket suspended in air.

The heavens in brightness and glory below,
Were reflected quite plain to the view,
And it moved like a swan, with as lightsome a show,
My beautiful birchen canoe!

The trees on the shore, as I glided along,
Seemed moving a contrary way,
And my voyagers lightened their toil with a song,
That caused every heart to be gay.

And still as I floated by rock and by shell,
My bark raised a murmur aloud,
And it danced on the waves, as they rose and they fell,
Like a fay on a bright summer cloud.

I thought, as I passed o'er the liquid expanse,
With the landscape in smiling array,
How blest I should be, if my life could advance,
Thus tranquil and sweetly away.

The skies were serene--not a cloud was in sight,
Not an angry surge beat on the shore,
And I gazed on the waters and then on the light,
Till my vision could bear it no more.

Oh, long shall I think of those silver-bright lakes,
And the scenes they revealed to my view,
My friends, and the wishes I formed for their sakes,
And my bright yellow birchen canoe!

_Michilimackinack, September, 1837._ H. R. S.

MARK!

BY PATER ABRAHAM A SANCTA CLARA.

In Two Parts.--Part Two.

THE eloquent Pater, after the colloquy between Death and the soldiers of Vienna, as given in a former number, turns from Mars, and, by an easy transition, passes to Venus, and begins his homily to maidens. He mentions the miracle wrought by the prophet with the widow's cruise of oil, and draws from it a reflection we do not recollect to have yet heard 'improved' in the pulpit.

'Now, when this widow found no help in her trouble, she
bethought herself of the prophet Elisha, to whom she told her
story with tears in her eyes. Elisha was moved by these widow's
tears, and asked her, what she had in the house. Think, for
the love of heaven, what it was! 'And thereupon she answered,
I have nothing in the house but a little oil, to anoint myself
withal.' To anoint herself! Only think, in the midst of her
poverty, she still took pains to be a pretty creature, even
if a poor creature! In a word, beauty is the only aim of
womankind!'

'How many long timbers, how many short timbers, how many large
timbers, how many small timbers, how many thick timbers, how
many thin timbers, how many round timbers, how many square
timbers, how many straight timbers, how many crooked timbers,
were used in building up the tower of Babel! How many large
stones, how many small stones, how many round stones, how many
square stones, how many rough stones, how many smooth stones,
how many white stones, how many red stones, how many common
stones, how many marble stones, were needed to build and adorn
the tower of Babel! It is nearly the same with a woman. What
taffeta stuffs, what silken stuffs, what worked stuffs, what
embroidered stuffs, what flowered stuffs, what wide stuffs,
what narrow stuffs, what colored stuffs, doth she not require;
and all to be beautiful, to be thought beautiful, to be called
beautiful!'

But Death is blind to all their beauty:

'This rude fellow saith, 'I never learned respect for beauty,
I never practised it, I never used it! He who will look for
modesty in a peacock, honesty in a fox, and fasting in a wolf,
may look for respect in me; not a pound, not a half a pound,
not a quarter of a pound, not an ounce, not a grain of respect
is to be found in all my stock!''

From the maiden we pass to the matron, under which head we find an unhappy married life described with a pungency which savors rather of an experienced husband, than of a bare-footed bachelor:

'As odious as is a lyre, wherein the strings do not accord,
so is marriage, where tempers do not agree. What is such an
union but a disunion, a battle-ground, a school of affliction,
a scolding-match, a grind-stone, a nest of hedge-hogs, a rack,
a briar-bush, a clock always striking, a mental harrow, a
pepper-mill, a summing up of all wretchedness!'

On the other hand, take his description of a happy marriage:

'It is known how vast was the temple of Solomon. In the first
place, there were assembled there seventy thousand laborers,
eighty thousand masons and stone-cutters, three thousand
overseers. But the most wondrous part is, that during the work,
not a stroke of steel or hammer was heard; _nec ferrum audie
batur_. This was a miracle! Some say that this was clearly
through God's work and aid; others, that Solomon caused to
be got a store of the blood of a certain beast, by which the
hardest stones were split in twain, without need of hammer or
steel; be this as it may, true it is, that in all the work,
neither blow nor stroke was heard.

'To this house of God can we compare the house of two loving
spouses, where no sound of strife is heard, but every thing
fits itself into place without struggle or labor. Such an union
is a clock which always stands at _one_; a garden wherein
nothing grows but hearts'-ease; a grammar in which nothing is
conjugated but _amo_, and _rixa_ is declined; a calendar, whose
chiefest saints are St. Pacificus and St. Concordia.'

The following veracious tale we earnestly recommend to the attention of the ladies of the present day, without, however, meaning to insinuate for a moment that they have fallen away in the least from the conjugal devotion of the fair Francisca Romana:

'The holy lady Francisca Romana valued such quietude above all
things else; wherefore one day, while she was devoutly, as was
her wont, reading the history of our blessed Lady, being called
away by her husband to perform some domestic duty, she laid
aside her book, leaving the verse she was reading, unfinished,
and having fulfilled her lord's commands, hastened back to her
devotions, when lo! the verse at which she had broken off had
been changed by an angel into letters of gold.'

The necessity of holding the rod over children, he thus illustrates:

'So long as Aaron, at Pharaoh's court, held the rod in his
hand, it remained a rod; but when he cast it on the ground, it
became a serpent. Remember this, ye parents! and cast it not
away.'

Next comes the turn of the rich man, at whom our worthy apostle hammers away without mercy:

'MARK--RICH MAN!'

'If it were allowed to Samson to propound a riddle for the
delectation of his guests, it will perhaps be not ill taken
in me to question my hearers as follows: What is it? It hath
not feet, yet travelleth through the whole world; it hath no
hands, yet overmasters whole armies; it hath no tongue, yet
discourseth more eloquently than Bartolus or Baldus; it hath no
sense, yet is more mighty than all the wise men of the earth:
'tis a thing which, both in its German and Latin names, comes
near to God. Well now what is it? Crack me this nut, if you
can. It is nothing else than Gold. Take away the L from it, and
we have God, and in Latin _numen_ is God, and _nummus_ money,
which two names are near akin.

'In the days of Noah, when the weary waters were deluging
the world, the patriarch sent forth a dove to see how the
rains stood upon the earth. This pious and simple bird, more
obedient than the raven, returned speedily, and lighted on the
ark. After a time, he sent her forth again, and she returned
with an olive branch in her mouth; and here the holy book doth
not say that Noah this time laid hands on her, and took her
into the ark; whence it is reasonable to conclude that she flew
in the second time of her own accord, wherein lies no small
mystery. The first time, Noah was obliged to draw her into the
ark by force, the second time she flew freely in. Reason: the
first time, the dovelet had nothing; the dovelet was a poor
devil, and durst not venture into the ark,

Si nihil attuleris, ibis, Homere, foras.

The second time, it had an olive branch, and flew straight
in, well knowing that door and portal stand open to him that
bringeth any thing.'

'Here can I not omit to berate the miser a little. Dearest
reader! thou hast doubtless seen somewhat beyond the hedge of
thy father's garden, and wandered through many provinces and
regions; tell me then, if thou hast ever seen a living purse
of money? Such a rarity you have scarcely encountered. But lo!
in Matthew, xvii. 23, it is described, how our blessed Lord
and his disciples arrived at Capernaum, and the tax-money was
demanded of them, and as neither our Lord nor Peter had any
silver, he ordered the apostle to cast into the sea, and in
the mouth of the first fish he caught he would find money--as
indeed it happened, and thus the fish's mouth became a living
purse. It is with misers as with this fish; they have nothing
but gold in their mouths. They snap at gold, they talk of gold,
they fight for gold, they sing of gold, they praise gold, they
sigh for gold, they forget not gold, even on their death-bed.
Yea, we have an instance in that bold scoffer, who, when the
priest visited him in his last hour with the solemn rites of
the church, said to him: 'Sir parson, I need not what the
cup contains, but if you would have me loan you money on the
golden cup itself, I am at your service;' and with these wicked
words, gave up the ghost. So that we see that gold, gold is the
miser's only thought. O ye fools! ye toil and ye moil, ye chase
and ye race, ye sweat and ye fret, ye hurry and ye worry, ye
wear and ye tear--and all for gold! Ye drink not, ye eat not,
ye sleep not--for gold; till your eyes sink in your head like
two hollow nut-shells, till your cheeks are pale as a lawyer's
parchment, your hair ragged as a plundered swallow's nest, your
legs covered only with skin, like an old drum-head!'

After despatching the misers in this style, he draws to a conclusion, and apostrophizes the world at large, telling them that all their misfortunes arise from sin, a text which he illustrates in this wise:

'I seem to see in fancy holy Bachomius in the wilderness,
where he chose him a dwelling among hollow clefts of rocks,
which abode consisted in nought but four crooked posts, with a
transparent covering of dried boughs. And he, when wearied with
singing psalms, resorting to labor lest the old serpent should
catch him unemployed, and weaving rude coverings of thatch,
sits by a rock, wherefrom flow forth silver veins of water,
which make a pleasing murmur in their crystal descent, while
around him on the green boughs play the birds of the forest,
who with their natural cadences, and the clear-sounding flutes
of their throats joining _pleno choro_, transform the wood into
a concert; and the agile deer, the bleating hares, the chirping
insects, are his constant companions, unharmed and unharming,
all which furnishes him with solace and contentment. But it
seemeth to me that our devout hermit delighteth himself more
especially in the echo which sends him back his loud sighs
and petitions, as when the holy anchorite cries, 'O merciful
Christ!' the echo, that unembodied thief, steals away the
words, and returns them back to him. But is he too sorely
tempted, and doth he exclaim, in holy impatience, 'O thou
accursed devil!' the echo lays aside its devout language and
sounds back to him, 'Thou accursed devil!' In a word, as a man
treats Echo so does Echo treat him.

'Now God is just like this voice of the woods. For it is an
unquestioned truth, that as we demean ourselves toward God, so
he demeaneth himself toward us.'

In the opinion of our author, and he is not singular in it, procrastination is the great foe to piety and repentance:

'By permission of the Almighty, I knock at the door of hell,
and ask this or that one the reason of his condemnation.
Holla! thou who art boiling in red hot iron, like a pea in a
hot kettle, what was the cause of thy condemnation? 'I,' said
he, 'was given to wild lusts, but resolved to leave off my
wicked life, and repent, but was suddenly cut off, so that
procrastination caused my eternal death.

'The same answer I received from a hundred thousand wretched
sinners. Oh how true is it, as the poet says:

'The raven _cras_ oft closes the pass
Unto our souls' salvation;
The fatal 'to-morrow' produceth sorrow,
And final condemnation.'

'And even, silly souls, if you are not cut off by sudden death,
but have time to repent given you on your death-bed, still
such late repentance seldom availeth much in the sight of God;
as Saint Augustine saith, 'The repentance of a sick man, I
fear, is generally sickly; that of a dying man, generally dies
away. For when thou canst sin no longer, it is not that thou
desertest sin, but that sin deserts thee.'

'God in the Old Testament has admitted all kinds of beasts as
acceptable offerings; but he excludeth the swan alone, though
the swan with its white vesture agreeth well with the livery
of the angels, because this feathered creature is the image of
a sinner who puts off repentance till death; for the swan is
silent through his whole life, and doth not sing till his life
is at its close.

'When Eve let herself be led astray so foolishly by the
serpent, God reproved the malice of the enemy with the words:
'Thou shalt bruise the heel of Eve and her seed.' * * * Why
then is it said that the serpent shall bruise man's heel? It
is here to be observed, that every thing in the Scripture is
not to be taken according to the letter, for if so, almost
every man would be a cripple; for the Bible telleth us, 'If
thy foot offend thee, cut it off.' But often in such words,
the Holy Spirit concealeth the profoundest doctrine. So in
this passage, as Lorinus wisely expoundeth it, we are not to
understand by the heel, the lower part of the human body, but
the last hours of man, which Satan pursueth most earnestly.'

Now for the conclusion:

'There are doubtless but few to be found among you so simple
that they cannot count three. And if heaven has been so
gracious as to endow you with wit enough to count three and
upward, I still hope ye cannot go so far as to count among ye
three-times-three, that is nine, I mean those nine, who were
cured by the healing hand of Christ, and of whom only one
returned to render to the Lord his _Deo Gratias_, while the
other nine made off with themselves.'

The peroration runs on in this strain of quaint allusion at some length, but we are admonished that it is time to bring our labors to a close. The candle is flickering away its little life in uncertain flashes, and the quiet that surrounds us, warns us of like repose. Farewell then, Pater Abraham! Back to thy old abode, in yonder nook of our library, where few will disturb thee, save some prying book-worm like ourself. Thy quaint conceits have beguiled us of more than one hour of weariness; nor while we love thee the more for thy fun, do we respect thee less. Thou wert a true apostle of thy Master. The pestilence that ravaged the city, found thee laboring in thy calling, carrying the consolations of religion, and the hope of another life, to those to whom all other comfort and hope were denied, as fearlessly as ever stood a soldier of an earthly captain while his comrades were dropping round him. Far thee well! and may posterity think none the worse of thee, that with thy talents and thy piety were mingled some of the weaknesses of our nature; weaknesses which were but the overflowings of a merry and a kindly spirit. Would that all thy cloth had no other or worse foibles than thy bad jokes, thy cumbrous learning, and thy plethora of wit!

LINES.

'TINNIT, INANE EST!'

THY bark, a coffin; helmsman, death--
A narrow shroud, the sail;
Thy freight corruption; and the breath
Of parting life the gale:
This makes all sense and sight disclose
Contemptible and mean;
But Faith, like ocean, riches knows,
Exhaustless, but unseen.

And, as that ocean wild, the moon,
With silver sceptre guides,
And, tranquil on her distant throne,
Controls the raging tides;
So Faith, from her celestial height,
Consoles the troubled breast,
And calm, from consciousness of might,
Rebellion awes to rest.

C.

STANZAS.

STILL falls the boatman's oar,
Faint comes the ev'ning bell,
As from off the dusky shore
The cool night-breezes swell:
How sweet at such an hour,
The yellow sands to rove;
The spirit wrapt within the power
Of dreaming love.

How sweet, when youth has gone,
And manhood's eye looks dim,
To waken up in Memory's tone,
Love's own vesper hymn;
To bring back every note,
In early hours we knew,
And, as old voices round us float,
Believe them true.

Thus shall the buried joys,
The dreams, the hopes, the fears,
The all that cruel time destroys,
Come back to bless our years:
Thus shall the affections come,
Our raptures to restore;
Thus shall the sad heart bloom
In youth once more.

G. B. SINGLETON.

THE FOSTER-CHILD.

A DOMESTIC TALE OF ENGLAND, FOUNDED ON FACT.

'TEN years to-day! Mercy on us! Time does fly indeed! It seems but yesterday, and here she sat, her beautiful fair face all reddened by the heat, as in her childish romps she puffed with might and main the fire in that very grate. Dear heart!--how sweet a child it was, surely! Well, David, say what folks will, I'm convinced there was a fate about it.'

Before I relate how far David cöincided in this opinion of his 'gude wife,' I will mention to whom and what she alluded, and how I had an opportunity of declaring a similar conviction.

Seated, after a kind reception by the master and matron, in the best room in the work-house of L----, in Kent, at my request they were proceeding to gratify my curiosity, raised by a picture which hung between the windows. The subject and execution were striking. It had been hit off at one of those luckiest moments for the artist, when, all unconscious, the study presented that inspiration to the task, which so rarely occurs in what is termed a 'sitting for a likeness.' On a three-legged stool, with one foot raised upon the fender, and an old pair of bellows resting on her lap, in the act of blowing the fire; long clustering locks, the brightest yellow that ever rivalled sunbeams, flowing from a head turned toward her right shoulder, from which a coarse Holland pin-a-fore had slipped, by the breaking of one of the strings that had fastened it, sat a child, apparently eight or nine years old, in whose face beamed more beauty, spirit, and intelligence, than surely ever were portrayed on canvass. Well might the good dame cry, 'Dear heart! how sweet a child it was!' Never before or since have I beheld its equal; and the vivid recollection of the wonder I then felt, will never cease to throw its light upon the page of memory, till time turns over a new leaf of existence. What admirable grace--how exquisitely free! She seemed indeed to inhale the breath that panting look bespoke a lack of. What joyous fire in her large blue eyes! And then the parted laughing lips, and small teeth; the attitude, how careless and most natural! All appeared as much to live, as if all actual. But little do I hope, gentle reader, to excite in you as lively an interest for the original, by my weak tints of simple black and white, as the glowing colors of the picture roused in me. I will not attempt it, but at once proceed with the story appertaining to the object of my inquiry, as narrated by my host and his wife.

'Do you tell the tale, Bessum,' said honest David, addressing his spouse, whose name, from Elizabeth and Betsey, had undergone this farther proof of the liberties married folks take with one another; 'do you tell the tale; and if needs be, I can help you on, where you forget any part of it.'

'Ah, you're a 'cute fellow, David,' said the vainly-christened Elizabeth; 'you know how to set an easy task, as well as any one, 'specially when it's for yourself to go about; but never mind, I wont rate 'e for 't, for I know 'tis a sad subject for you to deal with.'

Bessum was evidently right; for the tear that stood trembling for a moment in the corner of David's eye, as she spoke, rolled unheeded down his cheek; while the handkerchief that seemed to have been taken from across his knees, for the purpose of concealing the simplicity of the tribute his honest heart was paying, was employed, for at least the tenth time that day, to brush the dust from the picture of his 'poor dear child.' I was affected to a degree for which I was unable to account, by the touching sigh poor David heaved, as he replaced the handkerchief on his knees, and resigned himself to the pangs my curiosity was about to inflict on him. There was a tender melancholy in the kind creature's face, that seemed to mark the lacerated feelings of intense affection. I could have pressed him to my breast, in sympathy of his sufferings, for I was already a sharer of his grief, before I knew the cause of it. It was at this moment that the dame began her story, in the words of my commencement.

'Ten years to-day,' said she, 'since that picture was painted, Sir----'

'Ah! my poor dear child!' sighed David; from which ejaculation I inferred that I was about to hear a tale of which his own daughter was the heroine; but I was soon undeceived by his wife, who thus proceeded: