CHAPTER V

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Hill has opened a wholesale liquor store on his own account! Where did Hill raise the money to start in business--a poor devil who could never get eighteen pence ahead in the world? It does not appear. For one, I will say that Hiram Meeker did not furnish it. _He_ not only belongs to the temperance society, but he believes all traffic in the 'deadly poison' to be a sin. Still where did Hill get the money or the credit to start a wholesale liquor concern? More than this, Hill is doing a pretty large business. Singular to say, he drinks less and swears less than he did. He is more respectable apparently. He has a very fine store in Water street. He does not deal in adulterated liquors. He sells his articles, if the customer desires it, 'in bond;' that is, from under the key of the custom house, which of course insures their purity. By a singular coincidence, Hill's store is adjoining a 'U. S. Bonded Warehouse.' Hill's goods, for convenience' sake, are sent to that

## particular warehouse--frequently. The liquors are stored in the

basement. This basement is not supposed to communicate with the basement of Hill's store. Certainly not. Yet Hill, _solus_, entirely and absolutely _solus_, spends many evenings in the basement of his store. Hill is a large purchaser of pure spirits. Pure spirits are worth thirty-one cents a gallon, and brandy of right brand is worth two or three dollars a gallon. One gallon of pure spirits mixed with two gallons of brandy cannot be detected by ninety-nine persons of a hundred. Some say it is equally difficult to detect a half-and-half mixture. Still Hill sells his brandy in bond. I repeat, Hiram Meeker does _not_ furnish Hill the money. It is true, their intimacy still continues. Further, Hill has good references--none other than H. Bennett & Co. Strange as it may seem, H. Bennett himself has been known to put his name on Hill's paper. Yet I am told he does not even know Hill by sight! Hill is making money, though--is making it fast. Hiram is still in the house of Hendly, Layton & Gibb, but this has not prevented him from making, with permission of the firm, several ventures on his own account. These ventures always turn out well. It was not long since he shipped a schooner load of potatoes to New Orleans on information derived from the master of a vessel which had made a remarkably rapid passage, and who reported to him, and to him only. He more than doubled his money on this venture.

In Dr. Chellis's church, Hiram has made respectable progress. He has permitted himself to break over the strict rule first adopted as to his social life. He goes a little into society--the very best society which that congregation furnishes. Report says he is engaged to Miss Tenant. She is the only child of Amos Tenant, of the firm of Allwise, Tenant & Co. This firm is reputed to be worth over a million of dollars. Miss Tenant--Miss Emma Tenant--is the young lady who, from the first, took such an interest in Hiram at the Sunday school. She is an excellent girl. She is very pretty, too, and, I am sorry to say, she seems to have fallen in love--really and positively in love with Hiram. _He_, the calculating wretch, has canvassed the whole matter, has made careful investigations of the condition of the house of Allwise, Tenant & Co., and has satisfied himself that it is firm as a rock, and that Mr. Tenant is no doubt worth the pretty sum of three hundred and fifty thousand dollars, or such a matter.

Emma is an only child!

Oh, Hiram, how dare you utter those vows of love and constancy and everlasting regard and affection, coming, as you do, with your fingers fresh from turning the leaves at the register's office, where, forgetting your dinner, you have spent the entire afternoon in satisfying yourself about the real estate held by 'Amos Tenant?' Had the record under your precious investigation not been satisfactory, you would not have spent five minutes thereafter in the society of Emma Tenant.

Yet your conscience does not reproach you. No, not one bit. Positively you are not aware of anything reprehensible or even indelicate in what you are about. Thinking of the matter, as you carefully scan the books of record, you regard it precisely as you would any other investigation. To you it is essential that the girl you are to marry should have money. If she has, you will love her (for it is your _duty_ to love your wife); if she has not, you cannot love her, and of course (duty again) you cannot wed her.

Poor Emma Tenant! No protecting instinct warns you against the young man who is now making such fervid protestations. You receive all he says as holy truth, sincere, earnest avowal, out of his heart into yours, for time and for eternity!

You, Emma Tenant, are a good girl, innocent and good: why, oh, why does not your nature shrink by this contact?

* * * * *

We forbear to paint the love scene in which Hiram figures. Enough to say that Emma could not and did not disguise the state of her affections. Yes, she confessed it, confessed she had been attracted by Hiram (poor thing) from the day she first saw him enter the Sunday school to take his place as one of its teachers.

How happy she was as she sat trembling with emotion, her hand in Hiram's calculating grasp, while she blushingly made her simple confession.

'But your father,' interposed Hiram, anxiously--'he will never give his consent.'

'And why will he not?' replied Emma. 'I am sure he likes you already, and when he knows'--

She stopped, and blushed deeper than ever.

'When he knows,' said Hiram, taking up the sentence, 'he will hate me: I am sure he will.'

'How can you say so?' replied the confiding girl. 'I am his only child, and he will approve of anything which is for my happiness.'

'But he may not think an engagement with me (you see Hiram was determined on the engagement) will be for your happiness. I am not known here--am not yet in business for myself, although so far as that is concerned'--

'Don't speak so--it pains me; as if I could think of such things _now_,' she whispered, as if really in bodily distress.

'But it _must_ be mentioned, and at once; we must tell your parents. It would be highly improper not to do so.'

He meant to make all sure.

'Oh, well, I suppose you are right, but it will make no difference to papa if you had not a penny. I have heard him say so a thousand times.'

'Have you,' replied Hiram, drawing a long breath, 'have you really?'

'Indeed I have. He has always said he would prefer to see me marry a high-minded, honorable young man, of strict integrity, without a cent in the world, to the richest man living, if he were sordid and calculating. Oh, he despises such persons. Now are you satisfied?'

Hiram _was_ satisfied, that is, logically; but somehow he _felt_ a hit, and in spite of himself his countenance was clouded, and he was silent.

'I have said something to wound you. I know I have,' exclaimed Emma.

'To wound me! My angel, my'--etc., etc., etc. (the pen refuses to do its office when I come to record Hiram's love expressions). 'How can you think so at this moment of my greatest rapture, my most complete'--etc., etc., etc. (pen fails again). 'It was my intense joy and satisfaction to learn how noble and disinterested your father is, that rendered me for the moment speechless.'

After considerable discussion, it was arranged that Emma should be the one to communicate to her parents the interesting fact that Hiram sought her hand. On this occasion his courage so far failed him that he preferred not to break the subject himself, although generally so very capable and adroit in personal interviews.

Mr. Tenant, as usual with papas, was a good deal surprised. He had not thought of Emma's marrying--considered her still little else than a school girl, and so on--well--he supposed it must come sooner or later. He knew very little about the young man, but what he did know was certainly in his favor.

To cut the story short, the whole matter was soon pleasantly settled, and Hiram established as the accepted of Miss Tenant.

In a subsequent interview with Mr. Tenant, our hero quite won his heart. That gentleman was an old-fashioned merchant; the senior member of a house known as one of the most honorable in the city. I say senior member, for the 'Allwise' whose name stood first was a son of the original partner through whose capacity mainly it had been built up and made strong. Mr. Tenant, I repeat, was a merchant of the old school, high minded and of strict integrity, not specially remarkable for ability, but possessing good sense and a single mind. The house once on the right track, with its credit and its correspondents established, he had only to keep the wheel revolving in the old routine, and all was well.

Mr. Tenant was quite carried away by Hiram's conversation. The latter was so shrewd and capable, yet so good and honest withal. He first recounted to his prospective father-in-law a little history of his whole life. He portrayed in feeling terms how God had never forsaken, but on the contrary had always sustained and supported him--in his infancy, at school, through various vicissitudes--had conducted him to New York, to Dr. Chellis's church, into his (Mr. Tenant's) family; and now, as a crowning mercy, was about to bestow on him the greatest treasure of the universe to be a partner of his joys and sorrows through life.

Then he discoursed of affairs; of what he hoped with a 'common blessing' to accomplish. He informed Mr. Tenant confidentially that in the approaching month of May he should commence a general shipping and commission business. His plans were matured, and though his capital was small--

'Count on me, young man, count on the house of Allwise, Tenant & Co.,' interrupted the kind-hearted old gentleman. 'I have no boy,' he continued, with tears in his eyes; 'my only one was snatched from me, but now I shall look on you as my son. You will start in May. Good. And what the house can do for you will be done.'

'Then perhaps I may be permitted to refer to you?'

'Permitted? I shall insist on it. What is more, I will see two or three of our friends to make up your references myself. You must begin strong. Where do you keep your account?'

Hiram told him. It was a bank where Mr. Bennett had introduced him.

'That is well enough, but those are dry goods people, not at all in our line. I must introduce you at our bank, or, what is better, I will get Daniel Story to introduce you at his. There you will get a double advantage.'

Need I add that Hiram was in ecstasies? His position would now equal his most brilliant dreams. To be placed at once on an equality with the old South-street houses! To have Daniel Story introduce him to his bank! It was even so. The future son-in-law of Amos Tenant would gain just such an entree to business life.

And profitable use did Hiram Meeker make of these 'privileges.' He no longer thought of depending on H. Bennett & Co. Very quietly he thanked his cousin for his kind offer of assistance by way of reference, etc., but he was of opinion it would be better to have some names in his own line. Then he mentioned who were to be his 'backers,' whereat Mr. Bennett was amazed, yet highly gratified, and, without seeking to inquire further, told Hiram he 'would _do_,' he always said he would, that he must call on him, however, whenever he thought he could give him a lift, and predicted that he would be very _successful_ on his own account. All which Hiram received meekly and mildly, but he said nothing in reply.

It is not my purpose to give in detail the particulars of Hiram's commercial life. Having been sufficiently minute in describing his early business education, the experience he acquired, the habits he formed, the reader can readily understand that his career became from the start a promising one. He was familiar with all the ramifications of commerce. He thoroughly knew the course of trade in New York. He had studied carefully the operation of affairs, from the largest shipping interest to the daily consumption of the most petty retail shop. He had managed to lay up quite a respectable sum of money, and all he now wanted was a good opportunity to launch himself, and it was presented.

I am inclined to think Mr. Tenant would have been willing to have taken him into his own firm, had Hiram wished, but he had no such ambition. He desired by himself to lay broad and deep the foundation of a large business, and have it expand and become great in his own hands. He did not believe in partnerships; it is doubtful if he were willing to trust human nature so much as to admit anybody to such a close relation as that of business associate.

In the management of his affairs, Hiram made it a point to acquire the reputation of fair and honorable dealing. His word was his bond. That was his motto; and he carried it out fully and absolutely. Mistakes could always be corrected in his establishment. No matter if the party _were_ legally concluded. He stood by his contracts. A mere verbal say so, though the market rose twenty-five per cent. on his hands the next half hour, could be relied on as much as his indenture under seal. And so he gained a splendid name the very first year of his mercantile career. Yet, I _must_ say it, behind all this fine reputation, this happy speech of men, this common report and general character, sat Hiram alert and calculating, whispering to himself sagaciously: '_Honesty is the best policy_.'

[In affairs, he meant. Had he carried the apophthegm out into every detail of life, through its moral and social phases, it would have required indeed the eye of the Omniscient to have discerned and penetrated his error.]

I come to the close of Hiram's first year of business on his own account. He had suddenly loomed into importance. But never was there an effect more directly traceable to a cause. He did not embark till he was in readiness for the venture, and results came quickly. With change of position he had made corresponding changes in his social life. He left Eastman's, and took pleasant though not expensive quarters in a more fashionable part of the city, not far indeed from Mr. Tenant's house. He visited in company with Emma all her family friends and acquaintances. He made such progress in the church, that the majority of the female teachers in the Sunday school were in favor of electing him superintendent. In short, he was becoming a very popular young man.

As I have said, I come to the close of Hiram's first year. I wish I could stop here. I go on with that reluctance which I invariably feel when recording what must add to the repugnance with which we all regard Hiram's character.

The engagement between Hiram and Miss Tenant had been made public. The time for the marriage was fixed at about the first of July--only six weeks distant. It was a period when Hiram felt he could leave town most conveniently for his wedding trip. The preparations on Emma's part were ample as became her family and social position. She was very happy. She loved this young man, and believed he loved her. Hiram was good natured and agreeable, and did all in his power to exhibit his best qualities. The result was that he was very much liked by both Mr. and Mrs. Tenant, and was already quite domesticated at their house.

During the spring there was a great deal of speculation in certain leading articles of export. The house of Allwise, Tenant & Co., having first class correspondents abroad and enjoying large credit, advanced more liberally than was prudent. It was the younger members who decided to go largely into the enterprise. There came a panic in the market. Several leading houses in London and Liverpool failed, others in New York followed, and among them Allwise, Tenant & Co.

It proved that this firm, though eminently sound and above board, was not as wealthy as was generally supposed. Its high character for integrity and honor, and an existence of near forty years without a reverse gave it great reputation for wealth and stability.

The blow was sudden and effective. The capital of the concern was wiped out of existence, and the individual property of the partners followed in this wake of destruction.

Hiram, like others, had overestimated Mr. Tenant's property. The latter was nevertheless a rich man for those days, and worth over one hundred thousand dollars. By this reverse he was penniless.

Hiram was on 'Change when he first caught the rumor of the catastrophe. His position with regard to the family (for his relations with it were now well understood) made it difficult for him to make many inquiries, but he hastened to his counting room and despatched a messenger to Hill to come to him forthwith. Hill was prompt, and having been carefully charged with his commission, at once started to execute it. He came back duly.

'All gone to----. Not a grease spot left of them.'

'Don't be so gross, Hill. You are constantly shocking me with your idle profanity. Are you sure, though?'

'Yes. More bills back, twice over, than they can pay. A clean sweep, by----.'

'That will do, Hill--that will do; but don't swear so, don't.'

'Now I am here,' continued Hill, 'what about that invoice of brandy to Henshaw? He declares the brandy ain't right. You know you thought'--

'Hill,' interrupted Hiram, 'I can't talk with you now. Leave me alone, and close the door after you.'

Hill went out without saying a word.

If we except a slight paleness which overspread his countenance, Hiram had exhibited no sign of emotion from the moment he heard of Mr. Tenant's failure to the time he disposed so summarily of his satellite Hill. When Hill left, he rose and walked two or three times quickly up and down the room, and then took his seat again. His thoughts ran something in this way: 'I never supposed old Tenant to have any business ability, but I thought the concern so well established it could go alone. So it could if those young fellows had not made asses of themselves. What's to be done? Tenant certainly has a large amount of individual property. It is worth saving. Respectable old name--if he keeps his money. (Hiram smiled grimly.) I will step round at once and offer my services, before other folks begin to tinker with him.'

On my word, reader, during all this time Hiram never once thought of Emma Tenant. She did not for a solitary instant enter in any of the combinations which he was so rapidly forming and reforming. So entirely was he occupied with canvassing the effect of the failure on his personal fortunes and thinking over what was best to be done under the circumstances, that he had no space in his brain, much less in his selfish heart, for the 'object of his affections,' to whom he was to be married in one little month.

How would _she_ feel? How would the blow affect her? What could he do to reassure her? How could he best comfort her? What fond promises and loving protestations could he offer that now more than ever he desired to make her happy?

Nothing of this, nothing of this occupied him as he sat in his private office, rapidly surveying the situation.

Poor Emma!

Carrying out his decision, Hiram took his way to the establishment of Allwise, Tenant & Co.

He was immediately admitted to Mr. Tenant's private room. That gentleman sat there alone, with his eyes fixed on a long list which his bookkeeper had just furnished him. He looked somewhat disturbed and solicitous, but presented nevertheless a manly and by no means dejected mien.

'Ah, my dear boy, I knew there was no need of sending for you. I _knew_ you would be here. God bless you. Sit down, sit down. I want to use your ready wit just now for a few minutes. Thank God, I have your clear head and honest heart to turn to.'

All this time Mr. Tenant was pressing Hiram's hand, which lay impassively in his. The honest man was too much carried away by his own feelings to notice the other's lack of sympathetic pity.

'Why, my dear sir,' said Hiram, at length, 'did you not give me some hint of this? We might have'--

'I had no idea of it myself till the mails were delivered this morning. Phillipson & Braines's stoppage has destroyed us. Such a strong house as we thought it to be! When they suspended, it discredited us with our other friends, for everybody knew our relations with them, so that they would neither accept our bills nor protect us in any way. We are struck down without warning.'

'No hope of reconstruction?' asked Hiram.

'None.'

'You wanted me just now, I think you said.'

'Yes. There are one or two matters which I am inclined to think should be treated as confidential. Certain collections, and so forth. We have already discussed it somewhat. You shall examine and give me your opinion.'

'Had you not better first make some arrangements to protect your individual property?'

'What?'

Hiram repeated the question, and in a more definite shape.

He was astounded when the honorable old merchant told him that he should make no reservations--that his property, all of it, belonged to his creditors, and to his creditors it should go.

Even in this juncture Mr. Tenant was so taken up with his own position that he failed to discover Hiram's real object. He actually turned consoler.

'Courage, my boy,' he exclaimed. 'My wife has a little sum of her own, about twelve thousand dollars, enough to keep us old folks from starving; and as soon as you are married, we will club together, and live as happy as ever--hey?'

'I hope, after all, matters are not as bad as you suppose,' said Hiram, wishing to make some response, but determining not to commit himself.

'Oh, but they are,' said Mr. Tenant. 'We must not deceive ourselves. However, let that pass. Now tell me what you think about these collections?'

Hiram forced himself to listen patiently to Mr. Tenant's statement, for he had not yet decided on the course he was presently to pursue. So he talked over the question, pro and con, managing to fully agree with the views of Mr. Tenant in every particular.

'I knew you would think as I do about this,' exclaimed the latter, joyfully. 'It does you credit, Hiram. It shows your honorable sense. How could I take that money and put it into the general indebtedness? How could I? Well, well, I have already employed too much of your time. We shall do nothing to-day but examine into matters. You will be up this evening?'

'Certainly.'

'Good-by till then, my dear boy.

Emma must spare you to me for once. To-night we will have our various statements ready, and I shall want your help to look them over.'

'The old fool,' muttered Hiram, as he left the place. 'The old jackass. I won't give it up yet, though. I will try his wife. I will try Emma. No, I won't give it up yet. I will go there this evening, and see what can be done. But if I find that--'

The rest of the sentence was inaudible.

HOW MR. LINCOLN BECAME AN ABOLITIONIST.

Perhaps, Messrs. Editors, you may recall A story you published some time in the fall,-- I think 'twas October--your files will declare,-- Bearing the title of 'Tom Johnson's Bear.'

* * * * *

Well, the story since that time has grown somewhat bigger, And has something to say about holding the 'nigger;' And something, likewise, about letting him go, The which I've no purpose at present to show: To wit, how a woodman, a kind-hearted neighbor, Returning at night from his rail-splitting labor, Found poor Mistress Johnson forlorn and distressed, In that perilous posture still holding the beast; And how she besought the kind gentleman's help, And how he'd have nothing to do with the whelp; And how he and Johnson soon got by the ears, And fought on the question of 'freedom for bears;' And how, _inter alia_, the beast got away And took himself off in the midst of the fray; And how Tommy Johnson at last came to grief: All which I omit, as I wish to be brief. The story's too lengthy--it must not be sent all To cumber your pages, my dear CONTINENTAL. At present my purpose, my object, my mission is To show how the woodman became 'Abolitionist.' Introductions, you know, like 'original sin,' Hang on, while you long for some sign of repentance In shape of the last and the welcomest sentence, So, in short, I'll cut short, draw a line, and begin.

* * * * *

The woodman one night was aroused by a clatter, Each one in the house crying, 'Ho! what's the matter?' All jumped out of bed and ran hither and thither, Scarce knowing amid their alarm why or whither; But soon it was found 'mid the tumult and din That burglars were making attempts to break in. And now there arose o'er the turmoil and noise The woodman's loud summons addressed to 'the boys.' 'The boys' quickly came, and on looking around, At one of the windows a ladder was found, And on it a burglar, who, plying his trade, A burglarious opening already had made.

Now the woodman, though making this nocturnal sortie All armed and equipped, at the rate of 'two-forty,' Called a halt, and proposed, before firing a gun, To question with care what had better be done. Forthwith he assembled a council of war, To gravely consider how fast and how far In a case of this kind it was lawful to go. Some said, 'Smash the ladder,' but others said, 'No, There were many objections to that, and the chief Was the constitutional rights of the thief; That the ladder was property all men agreed, And as such was protected, secured, guaranteed; And if 'twas destroyed, our greatest of laws Could not be upheld and maintained 'as it was.'' But others replied, 'That ladder's the chief Supporter, as all men may see, of the thief; Let's aim at the ladder, and if it should fall, Let the burglar fall with it, or hang by the wall As well as he can; and by the same token, Whose fault will it be if his neck should be broken?' To which it was answered, 'That ladder may be The chattel of some honest man, d'ye see.' 'Well, then, we will pay for't.' 'No, never!' says V., 'To be taxed for that ladder I'll never agree; You have brought on this fuss,' said V., mad and still madder; 'You always intended to break the man's ladder; You have been for a long time the people deceiving With false and pretended objections to thieving; You never desired to have robbing abolished; You only have sought to have ladders demolished.'

'Pray, hold!' said another, 'perhaps while we're trifling About this old ladder, the thief will be rifling The house of its contents, or, venturing further, May set it on fire--the children may murder.' 'Can't help it,' says V.; 'though he murder to-day, Who knows but to-morrow the murderer may Repent and reform; then who shall restore The ladder all perfect and sound as before? But whether or no, I can never consent That the thief and the ladder should make a descent, Which haply might hurt a burglarious brother, Or totally wreck and demolish the other.'

The woodman bade 'Silence!' He cried out, 'Ho! list!' Then called on the burglar his work to desist, And made proclamation throughout all the town That if in a specified time he came down And gave a firm pledge of obeying the laws, He might keep his old ladder all safe 'as it was;' But if he pursued his felonious intent Beyond the time given, he'd cause to be sent 'Mid the conflict of arms and the cannon's loud thunder, A missile to knock his old ladder from under. Then pausing to see the effect of his speech, He saw nought but the thief still at work at the breach; And, being opposed to thieves visiting attics, Combined with those vile anti-ladder fanatics, And sent a projectile which left the thief where Thieves and traitors should all be, suspended in air, Except that he lacked what was due to his calling, A hempen attachment to keep him from falling.

Then burglars, and thieves, and traitors, and all Their friends sympathetic forthwith 'gan to bawl, 'We're ruined! we're ruined! To what a condition The country is brought by this man's abolition!' And echo replied: 'Oh! dreadful condition! Abolition--bolition--bolition--abolition!'

COST OF A TRIP TO EUROPE, AND HOW TO GO CHEAPLY.

The question is often asked of those who have been to Europe: 'What does it cost?' 'For how little can one travel abroad?' etc. For it is within the hopes of many to go at one time or another; and many would indulge the anticipation more freely, if they 'could see their way,' as the Yorkshire man wanted to do when he thought of getting married. I propose to throw some little light on this oft-repeated question.

The expense of a journey depends greatly on the manner in which it is made. People who go to Europe, frequently imagine that they must go in a certain degree of style; they must expend something by way of showing that they are somebody in their own country! To carry out this idea, they go, on first landing, to expensive hotels; they carry considerable luggage, travel in first-class carriages, and incur various other expenses, to show John Bull and the continentals that they belong to the superior class at home. These people pay largely for their whistle, or trumpet. They will tell you you cannot go to Europe for less than three or five thousand dollars apiece. They fancy they have made a good impression on the Europeans; whereas the Europeans never noticed their vain little attempts at showing off. Nobody cared what they paid or gave away; and the very courier who flattered, or the servants who fawned on them for their money, laughed at them behind their backs. There is another class, more quiet and moderate, who want to be economical, but do not know how to be. They will tell you a short trip can be taken for a thousand or fifteen hundred dollars. They go by the guide books, and those are based always on 'first-class prices and a liberal expenditure.' There are no guide books for those who would _study_ economy; who would submit to some privations for the sake of seeing foreign lands and acquiring the desirable knowledge which can only be gained by personal observation. For such, a guide book is very much needed. They constitute a large class of persons. They have an ardent desire to visit the Old World and places of renown--they would go in crowds, but for fear of the expense, and the assurances of their friends that it will cost so much. When we assure them that a trip to England and Scotland, and a tour through France, Germany, Prussia, Holland, Switzerland, and part of Italy, covering four or five months, may be made, has been made, for four hundred dollars, including first-class steamship passages going and returning, they may be encouraged to think of starting as soon as gold is at par.

A gentleman who has established hotels in England and Scotland, and published a Guide through London, says no traveller need pay at a hotel more than eighteen pence (thirty-seven cents of our money) a day for his room. To this is usually added from eighteen to twenty-five cents for attendance; gas being two cents extra per night. In London, however, such moderate hotels are usually in the business part of the town. In the desirable portions for a sojourn, private board and lodging can be had from a guinea to a pound and a half a week; or two furnished rooms may be taken at four or five dollars or more per week. This includes the service of cooking and serving meals; the tenant furnishing the marketing, which costs from two dollars to two dollars and a half a week for each person. This is the cheapest way of living for a party. Such rooms may be found by looking in newspaper advertisements. Agents make them cost more. It will be easy, by making a few inquiries, to hear of a dozen such places; and as people do not move so often in London as here, the knowledge may be available for a year or two.

In Edinburgh, Glasgow, and other cities, the cheap hotels are found in the very best localities. They usually advertise in Bradshaw's 'Monthly Guide,' and in the newspapers. They have clean beds and nice rooms almost universally. If the traveller desires strictly to economize, he need not pay for meals in the hotel, where 'a plain breakfast' (tea and bread and butter) will cost twenty-five cents, and dinner fifty cents; he can, if he choose, go to one of the numerous restaurants in the vicinity, and dine comfortably for twelve cents: other meals in proportion. These places are numerous and good in the cities of Great Britain. On the Continent, the prices at restaurants are higher, for strangers at least; a marked distinction being made between them and the inhabitants of the country. '_I forestieri tutti pagano_' (foreigners all pay), said a Venetian sexton; and that is the rule for universal practice throughout Europe. An order for roast beef at a restaurant will not cover, as it does here and in England, potatoes and bread; they are charged for extra; from three to five cents for a roll; six or eight for potatoes. Ice is too expensive a luxury everywhere across the seas to be thought of by the tourist limited in means. But if restaurants are dear, the markets are cheap in Europe; and the people of the country usually carry provisions with them. You may see ladies provided each with a small basket, from which are produced in the cars a bottle of _vin ordinaire_ and water, rolls of bread, and slices of ham or tongue. These furnish the simple but wholesome repast. Cream cheeses, delicious in quality, are to be procured in France and Italy, with cooked mutton chops, parts of roast fowl, sausage of fresh chicken and tongue, pork and mutton pies, etc., all obtainable fresh at provision stores. A bunch of grapes that will cost a franc (twenty cents) at the railway-station refreshment room, may be had in the market for one or two cents; and other articles in proportion. The custom of the people, and the abundant provision of such things, will suggest to the economical traveller a method of saving largely in his daily expenses. Those who like tea--which they cannot get well made on the Continent--had better take a spirit lamp and apparatus for making it in their rooms. But little trouble is involved in thus providing for one's wants; the most is in making tea or coffee. Those in the habit of so living will save the expensive hotel meals. In hotels, where there is a _table d'hóte_, dinner costs from three and a half francs (seventy cents) to five (a dollar). The breakfast consists merely of bread and _café au lait_, unless extras are ordered, and those are liberally charged for. Nowhere are travellers expected to pay for meals at hotels unless they choose to take them. _Se non mangiate, non pagate_. ('If you eat nothing, you pay nothing.')

The prudent tourist will always bargain for the prices of rooms. In the first-class hotels on the Continent there are usually to be had upper rooms at thirty or forty cents a day. In second-class hotels in France and Italy a room may be obtained for twenty cents, the charge for service being ten cents extra. Candles are always charged for separately; in cheap rooms, ten cents; in higher priced, a franc each per night; the waiter being careful to remove the partially burned one. The best plan is to carry wax candles in one's basket. Soap is never provided, and is an expensive article when called for.

In Germany and Holland the price of a room per day is a florin or guilder--about forty-three cents. Living generally is higher than in Italy, but cooked provisions are abundant and excellent. Throughout Europe, you may be sure of clean beds and tables, no matter how uninviting the premises appear.

One half the cost of travel, and one's temper besides, may be saved by going in third-class carriages. On the Continent the second-class ones are as luxurious as the first, and are preferred by tourists generally. But, except in having no cushions, the third class will prove comfortable enough; the chance for seeing the country is rather better. Here the people of the country are met--chiefly the poorer class--very decent in appearance, however, and invariably respectful and kind in their manners. A large number of monks and nuns will be found here, also well-dressed ladies, who feel more protected than in the superior class of carriages. In the latter, indeed, one is exposed to various annoyances escaped in third-class carriages. The tourists, who abound, are often insolent and encroaching. A burly Englishman or stolid German will not hesitate to turn a timid lady out of her seat; and if ladies have no gentlemen with them, they may be insulted by rude staring or scornful looks from women provided with escorts or a little more finely dressed. All these causes of disturbance are escaped among the third class, where the utmost deference is always shown to strangers.

In Great Britain, where Mrs. Grundy reigns with absolute sway, there is a prejudice against the inferior classes of railway carriages, partially overcome among the middle people of late, as far as the _second_ class is concerned; they dare not go in the third. But strangers may be more independent, and may do as they please without reproach. There is nothing to choose in the way of comfortable accommodation between the second and third-class carriages in England; the latter are called 'parliamentary,' on account of the governmental regulation compelling the companies to run them, and fixing the fare at one penny (two cents) a mile. Smoking is not permitted at all in England; on the Continent it is customary, even in first-class carriages and in diligences. When travelling in the diligence or stage coach, secure, if possible, the _coupé_ or highest priced places. The front windows command a better view than the side ones of the interior; and where a better view can be had, it is worth paying for. On the Mediterranean steamers take first-class places; the best are bad enough to be intolerable. The second cabins of the steamers crossing the British Channel are pretty good for a short voyage.

A copy which I am permitted to make from the diary of one who travelled with some ladies last summer, from Paris to Florence in Italy and back, gives the entire cost of the trip--occupying a month--at $106.13. This estimate includes hotel fares, fees, carriage hire, etc., as well as travelling expenses. A copy from the note book of a party who travelled over England and to Edinburgh and Glasgow--spending over two months--gives the sum total of that as $119.42. This includes fares to and from Paris ($5 second class), and board in Paris as well as in Great Britain. We may therefore put down the cost of a trip to Europe as follows:

Passage (first class) on steamship of New York, Philadelphia and Liverpool line, from New York to London $80 00

Returning in same line (fifteen guineas) 79 00

Travelling and board in Great Britain and Paris 119 42

Tour on the Continent 106 13

Allow for stewards' fees, cabs, omnibuses, and a few expenses not noted 15 45

Total cost of European trip, $400 00

Fees to guides, sextons, etc., on the Continent, seldom exceed a franc (twenty cents) each; half that, or a franc for a party, will often suffice. If a church is open for service, nothing is to be paid. Gifts to guides in England average sixpence or an English shilling. The custom of giving money to servants in private houses where one is entertained as a guest, is burdensome and unjust.

In Paris, board and lodging can be had at excellent houses, filled with fashionable guests, for a dollar a day, exclusive of a franc a week each to the maid and waiter. Arthur's celebrated family hotel, 9 Rue Castiglione, afforded accommodation to a party of three at this rate, with a suite of rooms in the Rue St. Honoré, breakfast to order in the private parlor, the constant attendance of a servant, and dinner at the hotel _table d'hôte_. The party found their own candles. A party thus can be as well accommodated as in one of the chief hotels. A single gentleman, who cares less for the elegancies of life, can have a furnished room for seven dollars a month with attendance, or a room at a cheap hotel for a dollar a week, without meals.

It must be understood that the estimate of $400 for the cost of a tour abroad does not include the price of exchange at the present time, or any exchange. It is simply the amount paid out in our own currency. The purchases made by a tourist of clothing, curiosities, etc., are of course extra. The amount will provide for a tour extending to between four and five months. Three or four weeks are allowed for in London, and two or three weeks in Paris. If the tour be extended and more time be consumed, the additional expense may easily be calculated. Bradshaw's 'Continental Guide' will give the exact cost and distance on the railways; and for hotel expenses, lunches, and fees, a dollar a day will provide the economical traveller. He will need no courier, nor, if he knows the language (French will do, but it is better also to understand Italian and German), a _valet de place_. Both are better dispensed with.

One word as to luggage. Let no traveller encumber himself or herself with a trunk on the Continent. A valise or a carpet bag that can be carried in the hand, will hold enough. Four or five changes of linen, and one dress, besides the travelling costume, are all sufficient. Washing can be done in a few hours anywhere. A lady had better wear a dress of strong dark stuff, and have a black silk for a change. She will need no more, even if months are spent abroad. Even in England a trunk is a nuisance; for luggage cannot be checked, and continual care is necessary. In some remote stations even labels cannot be had, and porters are scarce. I have known passengers, when no porters came to take their trunks to the van, compelled to thrust them into the carriage at the last moment. The better plan is to have only what can be carried under your own eye.

TOUCHING THE SOUL.

Reader, did it ever strike you that there are many theories touching this soul of ours which are generally accepted as truths, without any thought whatever on the subject; so universally accepted, indeed, that it is considered a waste of time to think upon them at all; but which, upon a thorough investigation, might possibly lose some of their old-time infallibility, and the consideration of which might well repay the trouble, by opening a field of thought at once interesting and instructive?

Such there are, and in this province alone are we of this day and generation entirely controlled by the opinions of those over whose dust centuries have rolled. We may speculate freely upon religion, and, while all must acknowledge that true religion is not progressive, new schemes of salvation spring almost daily into life from the brains of heretical thinkers, in their bold presumption stamping with error the simple faith of the primitive Christians. We may peer into the arcana of science and boldly question the theories of the learned of all ages. We may exhaust our mental powers upon points of political economy and the science of government; and even the domain of ethics may be fearlessly invaded and crowded with doubt. But into the unpretending pathway that leads to the secret nooks of the soul, to the foundations of all spiritual excellence, few feet may stray, and even those only to follow the beaten track worn by the feet of those olden thinkers whose very names have long since passed into oblivion, lest by their deviations they should outrage some of those universal prejudices, whose only claim to consideration is their traditionary origin.

And this path is but little trodden in our day, for two reasons; first, because, to the careless eye, it possesses few attractions, and its claims are lost in those of a more exciting and more eminently practical course of thought; secondly, because it seems to have been so thoroughly explored that we have only to read the writings of those who have gone before, and listen to traditionary speculations, to learn all that can be known about that which is our very existence, and, indeed, the only _true_ existence.

Two great mistakes. The dying philosopher, one of the wisest the world has ever known, declared that all the knowledge he had gained was but as a grain of sand upon the seashore. So all that is known to-day about the soul is but a drop in the ocean of that great revealing which shall one day dawn upon man's spiritual existence. There is an infinite field yet unexplored--a very _terra incognita_ to even those who pride themselves upon being learned in the mysteries of the soul. And to him who ventures upon this seemingly lowly path, so far from proving unattractive, it becomes a very Eden of thought. Unlooked-for beauties spring to light on every side; the very essence of music and poesy float around him as he advances; while above, around, and through all, sounds the magnificent diapason of everlasting truth.

True, there may be little of practical benefit--as the world defines practicality--in searching out the causes of the myriad emotions that sweep with lightning rapidity across the soul, now raising us to the summit of bliss, now plunging us into the depths of despair--little of practical benefit in endeavoring to analyze the soul itself into its constituent elements, and to bring ourselves face to face with our better, nobler selves, and with the Mighty Power which created us and all things. But there is, in this inner life, a pleasure higher and more lasting than those evanescent ones which the world can afford, and which elevates and purifies as they do not. And aside from mere pleasure, there is in such a study a practicability--taking the word in a broader and nobler sense--which puts to the blush man's busy schemes for wealth and honor. The beauties and sublimity of nature may indeed fill us with awe at the omnipotence of the mighty Architect, and with love and gratitude for His goodness, but it is only in the presence of the soul--His greatest work--that we realize the awful power of the Creator; it is only when threading the secret avenues of our own intellectual and spiritual being that we are brought into actual communion with God, and bow in adoration before Him who 'doeth all things well.' Therefore, I maintain that he whose meditations run most in this channel is not only the happiest, but the purest man; that his views of life are the broadest and noblest; that he it is who is most open to the appeal of suffering or of sorrow; who is most ready to sacrifice self and work for the good of his fellow beings, and to discharge faithfully his duty in that state of life to which it has pleased God to call him.

But I am digressing into a prosy essay, which I did not intend, and neglecting that which I did intend, namely, to jot down a few theories which have crept into the brain of one not much given to musing.

For even I--a poor 'marching sub'--sitting here by a cheery coal grate, and watching the white smoke as it curls lazily up from the bowl of my meerschaum, have theories touching the soul--theories born in the glowing coals and mounting in the curling smoke wreaths, but, unlike them, growing more and more voluminous as they ascend, till I am like to be lost in the ocean of speculations which my own musings have summoned up.

I heard, to-night, a strain of weird, unearthly music, sweet and sad beyond expression, but distant and fleeting. Yet long after it had ceased, the chord that it awakened in my heart continued to vibrate as with the echo of the strain which had departed. An unutterable, indescribable longing filled my soul--a vague yearning for something, I knew not what. My whole spiritual being seemed exalted to the clouds, yet restrained by some galling chain from the heaven it sought to enter. And then I asked myself, What is the secret of this mysterious power of music; where shall we look for the cause of those undefinable yet overwhelming emotions which it never fails to excite? A hopeless question it seemed, one which the philosophers of all ages have failed to solve, perhaps because they have not troubled themselves to inquire very seriously about it; and again, perhaps it has baffled them as it has me, and tens of thousands of others of the humbler portion of humanity. And so I fell to dreaming after this wise:

The soul of man is created perfect, so far as regards the presence of every faculty necessary for its development, for its happiness, or misery, in this world or the next. Circumstances may alter it in degree, but in its constituent elements never. The same yesterday, to-day, and to-morrow, at the moment of its creation and a thousand ages to come. Not even its passage from the body into its future and eternal home can endow it with a single new faculty, or eradicate one of the old. Yet each one of these faculties, capabilities, or sensibilities, is capable of development to an infinite degree. And in this development lies the soul's progress to perfection; it is to go on, through all the ages of its eternal existence, constantly approaching the divine, yet never reaching the goal, like that space between two parallel lines, which mathematicians bisect to infinity. Certain of these faculties, of the very existence of which even the soul itself is unconscious, are those whose province lies purely in the world beyond, to which we all are tending. Never exerted in this life, with which they have nothing to do, through all the earthly existence they sleep quietly in their hidden cells; but when once the silver cord is loosed, and the freed spirit mounts into its native atmosphere, then these dormant powers and susceptibilities are awakened from their slumbers, and take the lead in the march of development, outstripping all others in the race, and soon becoming the ruling powers of the soul. These are they which shall listen to the music of heaven--these are the spiritual senses which shall hear and see and taste and feel those ineffable glories, of which our earthly pilgrimage has no appreciation, and which, if presented to us in the body, we could not perceive, nor, perceiving, comprehend. These are they which shall worship and adore, comprehending the glory of Omnipotence, and drinking in and pouring out the full stream of divine and never-failing love and gratitude.

Reader, did you ever listen to the sympathetic vibrations of a musical string? Place in the corner of your room a guitar--it matters not if it have but a single string, that alone is sufficient for the experiment--then, sitting at some distance from it, sing, shout, or play upon some loud-toned instrument, or, beginning at the foot of the chromatic scale, sound, round and full, each semitone in succession and at separate intervals. The instrument is mute to every note until you strike the one to which the guitar string is attuned; then indeed, the spirit of melody imprisoned within the musical string recognizes its kindred sound, and springs sweetly forth to meet it. You pause, and a low, sweet strain sighs softly through the room, as if a zephyr had swept the string, dying gently away like the faintest breathing of the evening breeze. Repeat the note, and louder than at first, and again its counterpart replies, swelling higher than before, as if in gentle remonstrance that you should deem it necessary to call again to that which has already replied.

Even so it is with these hidden faculties or susceptibilities of which I have been speaking. In the notes of witching music, in the numbers of poesy, in the sight of beauty, either of nature or of art, either æsthetic or moral, these silent powers recognize a faint approximation to that beauty with which they will have to do in that world where they shall be called into action: they too recognize the kindred spirit, and, springing forward to meet it, vibrate in unison with the chord. But yet, restrained by their prison of clay, bound down by the immutable law which bids them wait their time, their great deep is but troubled, and while, from their swaying and surging, a delicious emotion spreads over the soul, filling the whole being with indescribable joy, it is an emotion which we cannot fathom, vague and undefined, at which we wonder even while we enjoy. To each and all of us the doors of heaven are closed for the present; we never have heard the songs of the celestial spheres, and how should we recognize their echo here on earth, even though that echo is swelling through our own hearts? And the sadness and yearning which such emotions invariably produce, may they not be the yearning for heaven's supernal beauty, and sadness for the chains which bar us from its full realization? Or is it the reflex of the struggles and the disappointment of that portion of the spirit which I have assigned as the mover of the emotion itself?

Carry still further the parallel of the vibrating string, and we shall illustrate the different _degrees_ of emotion. It is only by sounding a note in exact unison with that to which the string is attuned that we get the full force of the sympathetic vibration, which is more or less distinct according as we approach or depart from the keynote, till we reach the semitone above or below, when it ceases altogether. Even so do our emotions increase in exact proportion as the exciting cause approaches perfection--according as the beauty heard or seen or felt approaches the heavenly keynote. A simple ballad awakens a quiet pleasure, while the magnificent symphonies of Beethoven or Mozart fill the soul with a rapture with which the former feeling is no more to be compared than the brooklet with the ocean; for the latter is inexpressibly nearer to its heavenly model.

Carry out the theory to its legitimate result, and we shall see that if it were possible to produce, here on earth, music equal to that which rings through the celestial arches--if it were possible here to create beauty in any form, which should fully equal that which shall greet the freed spirit on its entrance into that better world, then indeed would our emotions reach their highest possible climax; then indeed should we hear and see and feel, not with the bodily senses, but with the senses of the soul; then would there be no vagueness, no sadness in the feeling as now, but clear and well defined would be our knowledge, comprehending all spiritual things. Then would our heaven be here on earth, and we should desire no other. Wisely has a great and merciful God thrown an impenetrable veil between the soul and its future belongings, and clipped its wings lest it soar too soon.

So much for a simple strain of music. A trifling matter, perhaps you will say, to make so much talk about. Not quite so trifling as you may think, however; for a single musical chord is a more important and complex thing than to the careless ear it would seem. Who ever cares to _study_ a single chord of music? And yet how few are there who know that it is composed of not three or four but a myriad of separate and distinct sounds, appreciable in exact proportion to the cultivation of the ear? The uncultivated ear perceives but the three or four primitive or fundamental notes of the chord, while, to the nicer perception, the more delicate susceptibility of the ear trained by long study and practice to analyze all musical sounds, come harmonic above harmonic, sounds of melody above, beneath, and beyond the few prime motors which act as the nucleus to the gush of tiny harmony which fills the ear--sounds clear and distinct, yet blending in perfect order and symmetry with their fundamental notes, and partaking so much of their character and following with such unerring certainty their direction as to become voiceless to the ear unskilled.

And why should this not be so? Is it not reasonable to suppose that the current of undulations in the atmosphere producing these united sounds should communicate its agitation in some degree to the circumambient air, creating thousands of delicate ramifications branching off in all possible directions from the main channel, yet all partaking of its peculiar character, and becoming in themselves separate sounds, yet consonant and harmonious?

Ah! could we but _see_ the vibrations of the atmosphere which a single musical chord produces--the rolling bass, the gliding alto, the sweeping soprano, and the soaring tenor, rolling onward in one broad channel of harmony, with its myriad tributary streams of thirds and fifths, and its curling, twinkling, shifting, blending, soaring mists of delicate-toned harmonics, how would our enjoyment of music be enhanced! how would both eye and ear be delighted, enraptured with the poetry of motion, the harmony of sound, the eternal and indestructible order and concord and consonance of both sight and sound! But this is reserved for the experience of pure spirit--this is reserved to enhance the beauty of the celestial realm. Some day we shall see and hear and know it all--some day in that heavenly future, when the soul of man shall converse and praise and adore in one blended strain of æsthetic beauty, which shall contain within itself the essence of all music and poesy and enraptured sight.

Thinking thus earnestly about the soul, one comes naturally to speculate upon the question of the spirit's return to earth after its final departure from the body. It is a beautiful belief that the souls of our departed friends are permitted to hover around us here on earth, watching all our outgoings and incomings, sympathizing in all our joys and sorrows, mourning over our transgressions, and rejoicing at our good deeds--in a word, acting the parts of guardian angels. And there are many, even in our day, who hold such a faith. Yet it is a belief founded in imagination and poetic ideas of beauty, rather than in sober truth either of reason or of revelation. The strongest argument I have ever heard against this belief is contained in the remark of a poor old English peasant. 'Sir,' said he, 'I doan't believe the speerits can come back to us; for if they go to the good place, they doan't want to come back 'ere again; and if they goes to the bad place, why God woan't let 'em.' There was more philosophy in the remark than he knew of, and I have not yet found the philosopher who did not stagger under it.

But there is another view of the subject. I hold that the bodily senses can only perceive material things; and the spirit spiritual things; and hence, that, admitting the actual presence of disembodied spirits, neither could we perceive them, nor they us, as material bodies. They might, indeed, perceive the souls within us, but could only be cognizant of our actions as those of pure spirit; while we, blinded by the impenetrable screen of the body, would be debarred of even this recognition.

For through only three of the bodily senses--sight, hearing, and feeling--have the boldest of so-called spiritualists dared to attempt the proof of their doctrine. To begin with the latter, the essential quality of the sense of feeling is _resistance_, without which there can be no perception. And what is resistance? In one class of cases it is simply the _vis inertiæ_ of matter: in the other and only remaining one, the opposition of some material matter to the force of gravity. Even the perception of the lightest zephyr depends upon the resistance of the atmosphere. Does spirit possess this quality of resistance? The argument on this head is closed the moment the distinction is made between material things and spiritual.

If the wave theory of light and sound be correct--and it is so generally accepted that few writers dare risk their reputations in the defence of any other--the senses of sight and hearing come, for the purposes of this argument, in the same category. Nothing can affect the ear which is not capable of producing vibration in the atmosphere, which may be considered, in comparison with pure spirit, a material substance. Here again the argument is clinched by the mere distinction between matter and spirit, the one being the very antipodes of and incapable of acting upon the other.

Natural science tells us that the white light of the sun is composed of the seven colors of the spectrum in combination, which colors may be readily separated by the refraction of the prism. All objects possess, in a greater or less degree, the power of decomposing light and absorbing colors. Now a ray of sunlight falling upon any given object is in a measure decomposed, a portion of its integral colors is absorbed, and the remainder or complementary colors thrown off--reflected upon the eye, producing by their combination what we call the color of the object. Thus, a ray thrown upon a pure white object is absorbed not at all, but wholly reflected as it came, and the consequence is the proper combination upon the retina of all the colors, producing--a white object. On the contrary, a ray falling upon what we call a _black_ object, is wholly absorbed, and the consequence is a total absence of light, or blackness. So a red object absorbs all the orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet of the sunlight, reflecting upon the eye only the red, which is perceived as the color of the object. And so on through all the combinations of the spectrum. Only material substances can either absorb or reflect: therefore is spirit again excluded; for how can it act upon the eye save through those agencies with reference to which the eye itself was constructed, and which, as we have shown, it cannot possibly affect? To sum up the whole argument in a single sentence, the physical senses are dependent, for their perceptions, entirely upon the action of matter, and hence spirit, which is not matter, can in no way affect them.

But here we are met by the record of Holy Writ, which declares that in those former times spirits did often appear to men. Aye! and so there were miracles in those days. But all these things are done away with. Moreover did not those spirits find it necessary in every case to clothe themselves with the image of some _living form_ in order to make themselves perceptible to human eyes? So that it was really the form within which the spirit was ensconced that was perceived, and not the spirit itself. And how shall we know what _gases_ of the physical world these spirits were permitted, through a special interposition of the Deity and for the furtherance of His divine ends, to assemble together into a concrete form for their temporary dwelling and as a medium through which to communicate with man? And who is so irreverent as to suppose that God would now, in these days, give spirits special permission to return to earth and take upon themselves such forms for the mere purpose of tipping tables and piano-fortes, rapping upon doors, windows, and empty skulls, misspelling their own names, and murdering Lindley Murray, and performing clownish tricks for the amusement of a gaping crowd?

But whence arises this great delusion? Simply from our total lack of knowledge of the glory of that heaven upon which we all hope to enter. 'Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it entered into the imagination of man to conceive' the glory of God, the splendor, the magnificence, the supernal beauty of the Celestial. We know indeed that we shall enter upon a world whose immensity, whose sublimity, whose awful beauty shall far surpass the experience of man; but not even the wildest imagination, fed by all the knowledge that astronomers have gained of world beyond world, and system beyond system, of spheres to which our world is but a speck, and of fiery meteors and whizzing comets sweeping their way with the speed of thought for thousands of years through planet-teeming space--not even such an imagination, in its farthest stretch, is able to conceive the glory of that dwelling place which shall be ours. If to-day we were permitted to peer but for a moment into that heavenly abode, then should we see how impossible, to the soul which has once entered upon that beatific state, would be a thought of return to this grovelling earth. There their aspirations are ever upward and onward toward the Great White Throne, with no thought for the things left behind, even were there not a 'great gulf fixed' between earth and heaven.

And how often do we hear the opinion expressed that the souls of the just do pass, 'in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye,' from the things of earth to the full burst of heavenly beauty and sublimity, shooting like the lightning's flash from its prison house of clay to the presence of its God. Reasoning from analogy, which, in this connection, where both experience and revelation are dumb, is the only basis we can rest upon, such a passage would be to the soul instant annihilation; the shock would be too great for even its enlarged susceptibilities. It must become gradually accustomed to the new sights and sounds, and so pass slowly up from one stage of perception and knowledge to another in regular gradation, to the climax of its revelation.

Reader, did you ever come suddenly from a darkened room into the full blaze of noonday? In such a case the eye is dazzled, blinded for a moment, and must gradually accommodate itself to the unaccustomed light before its gaze can be clear and steady. So, too, the ear long shut up in profound silence is deafened by an ordinary sound. Even so the soul, suddenly entering upon the unaccustomed and stupendous sights and sounds of the spiritual world, would be blinded, dazzled, as I have said, to annihilation. It is necessary that its newly awakened faculties, which during its long earthly life have lain in a comatose state, should not be too suddenly called into action, lest they be overpowered by the awful revelation. Like the bodily senses, they require time and gentle though steadily increasing action to develop them, and assimilate them to their new surroundings in their new field of action.

And this is my theory. The soul, when freed from the body, floats gently upward, _deaf_, _dumb_, and _blind_--paralyzed, as it were, into a state of neutral existence. Splendid sights may spread around it, wave after wave of eternal sound may roll in upon it, but it sees not, hears not, feels not, not having yet acquired the new faculties of perception. After a certain space of time--which may be days or weeks or months in duration--through its secret chambers steals a thrill of sentient emotion; it recognizes its own existence, and the dawn of that eternal life for which it was created. Slowly one sight after another begins faintly to glimmer before it, as objects emerge from the gloom of some darkened cell to eyes that are becoming accustomed to the darkness. Anon, low, faint murmurs of sound steal in upon it, far distant at first, but gradually swelling as it approaches, till at last, around the freed spirit peals the full orchestral glory of eternity. And so it goes on, passing slowly from stage to stage, apprehending new sights, new sounds, and comprehending new truths. And so it shall go on, through all the cycles of eternity, constantly approaching nearer to the Godhead, yet never to become God.

Do you ask me how can these things be? Let us draw an illustration from nature. The science of acoustics tells us that an organ pipe of a certain length gives forth the deepest, or as musicians would say, the _lowest_ sound that art can produce; that all beyond this given length is nothingness, and gives out no sound. What shall we say then? that doubling the length of the tube destroys the vibration of the imprisoned air? Nay, verily, the air still vibrates, sound is still produced, but _the note is below the gamut of the natural ear_, which was created to comprehend only sounds within a certain compass: its capacity goes no farther, and any sound pitched either above or below that compass we cannot perceive. In proof of this is the simple fact that a cultivated ear--that is, an ear of enlarged capacity, can readily catch the faintest harmonics of a guitar, to which others are totally deaf.

Again: I have stood by the Falls of Niagara, and listened in vain for that deep, unearthly roar of which so much has been written and sung. The rush and the gurgle of the waters was there, the sweeping surge of the mighty river, but Niagara's hollow roar was absent. Again and again my ears were stretched to catch the awful sound, till the effort became almost painful, but in vain. And yet the sound was present, ay! eternally present, but the note was just beyond the gamut of my ear. Standing thus for some moments, gazing and listening with the most earnest attention, nature, through her hidden laws, wrought a miracle in my person. The long-continued strain enlarged the capacity of the ear, even as the muscles of the arm are strengthened by frequent and energetic action, or as a faculty of the mind itself is developed by exercise. Lower and lower sank the scale of my aural conceptions, till, as it approached the keynote of the cataract, a low murmur began to steal in upon me, deeper than the deepest thunder tones, and seemingly a thousand miles distant. Louder and louder it swelled, nearer and nearer it approached as the hearing faculty sank downward, till the keynote was reached, and then--the rush and gurgle of the waters was swept away, and in its place resounded the awful tones of earth's deepest _basso profundo_. Then for the first time I realized the terrible sublimity of Niagara--the voice of God speaking audibly through one of the mightiest works of His creation.

And as, musing, I moved away from the appalling scene, the thought rushed into my mind that perhaps my experience of a few moments might be that of the soul when entering upon the sublimities of the future state. Hence my theory, which may go for what it is worth, or, as the Yankees would say, is 'good for what it will bring.'

Reader, do you never feel an intense longing to live over again the scenes of your youth? to begin at some certain period long gone by, and taste again the sweets that have passed away forever? It is one of the bitterest feelings of the heart that years are slipping away from us one by one; that the delights of our youth have gone, never to return, and that we 'shall not look upon their like again;' that the days are fast coming on when we shall say we have no pleasure in them, and that we are rapidly verging upon the 'lean and slippered pantaloon.' Were there any future rejuvenation, when we might stand again upon the threshold of life and look over its fair fields with all the joy and hope of anticipation, old age would lose all its dreariness, and become but a brief though painful pilgrimage through which we were to pass to joy beyond. But since this can never be, old age is the rust which dims the brightness of every earthly joy, and is looked forward to by youth only with a shudder.

Hundreds of bold and daring navigators have left their bones to whiten amid the snows and ice of the arctic regions, lured thither by the thirst of fame or of knowledge, in the pursuit of science, and in search of the Northwest Passage. But suppose some more fortunate adventurer should discover there, even at the very pole itself, a veritable 'fountain of youth and beauty,' whose rejuvenating waters could restore the elasticity of youth to the frame of age, smoothing away its wrinkles, and imprinting the bloom of childhood upon its cheeks, bringing back the long-lost freshness and buoyancy to the soul; would not the navigators of those dangerous seas be multiplied in the ratio of a million to one? Should we not all become Ponce de Leons, braving every danger, submitting to every privation, sacrificing wealth, fame, everything, in quest of the precious boon? What a hecatomb of mouldering bones would bestrew those fields of ice! For though not one in ten thousand might reach the promised goal, the hegira would still go on till the end of time, each deluded mortal hoping that he might be that happy, fortunate one. As the dying millionnaire would give all that he possesses for one moment of time, so would all mankind throw every present blessing into the scale, in the hope of drawing the prize in that great lottery.

There is a fountain of youth and beauty open to every soul beneath the sun: there is a rejuvenation both to soul and body, which shall not only restore all the freshness of the bygone days, but also the joys of the past, a thousandfold brighter and dearer, and that by a process which will not need repeating, for that youth will be eternal. I am using no metaphor now, but speaking of that which is actual and tangible. There is such a fount, but not here: it gushes in the courts of that house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For the soul, at the moment of its separation from the body, enters upon a new life, whose course shall be exactly the reverse of that of earth, for it shall constantly increase in all the attributes of youth. There will be no dimming of the faculties, but a continual brightening; no grieving over an irrecoverable past, but a constant rejoicing over joys present and to come. There will be no past there, but a present more tangible than this, which is ever slipping from us, and a future far brighter and more certain than any that earth can afford. Strange that men should fail to look at heaven in this light! For thoughtless youth, to whom the world is new and bright, and pleasure sparkles with a luring gleam, there is some little palliation for neglect of the things of heaven; but what shall we say of him who has passed the golden bound, for whom all giddy pleasures have lost their glow, and nought remains but the cares and anxieties of life? Of what worth is earthly pleasure to him who has already drained its cup to the dregs? Of what worth is wealth and honor to the frame that has already begun to descend the slope of time? All these baubles would be gladly sacrificed for the return of that youth which has passed away; and shall they not be given up for that eternal youth which shall not pass away? We mourn for departed loved ones, but what would be our grief and despair if death were annihilation--if we knew that we should never meet them again in all eternity? But we feel that in heaven the olden love shall be renewed; that the forms that now are mouldering in the dust shall be recognized and greeted there, and that the friendships created here shall ripen there in close companionship through never-ending cycles; and thus is death robbed of half its terrors.

But the way to this fount is through a straight and narrow gate, and 'few there be who find it.'

Alas! how unsatisfactory are even the choicest blessings of life! Wealth brings only care, and the millionnaire toils all his life for--his food and clothes and lodging; dies unregretted, and is soon forgotten. Honor brings not content, and does but increase the thirst it seeks to assuage. The poor and the unknown are generally happier than the wealthy and famous. 'Vanity of vanities, saith the preacher, all is vanity and vexation of spirit;' and what was true of human nature when 'the preacher' wrote, is true to-day. Admit that life is but a succession of pleasures that can never pall, and the world one vast Elysian field, and that the care of the soul requires the abnegation of every delight, and spreads a gloomy pall over all the brightness of earth; yet even in that case, a life wholly devoted to spiritual interests were but a weary, temporary pilgrimage, which we should gladly endure for a season, in the hope of the golden crown and never-ending bliss in the world beyond, could we but look upon the future life in the light of _reality_. Ah! there is the difficulty, for we are 'of the earth earthy,' and, although we may fervently _believe_, cannot comprehend, cannot _realize_ eternity. To too many Christians of the present day eternity, heaven, God, are not a tangible reality, but rather a poetic dream, floating in the atmosphere of faith, but which their minds cannot grasp. Hence they worship an idea rather than a reality.

The noblest pleasures of life, in fact the only real, permanent, exalting, and, I might add, _developing_ pleasures, are divided into two classes, those of the heart, and those of the intellect. Yet both, though different in their action, spring from the same central truth.

The happiest man is he whose life is spent in doing good, seeking no other reward than the gratification of beholding the true happiness of his fellow beings. His pleasures are of the heart, and he only is the true Christian of our day and generation. For he who so ardently loves his fellow men cannot but love his God.

The pleasures of the intellect can never pall, but do constantly increase and brighten, because in them the soul enters its native province and acts in that sphere which is its own for all eternity. Yet how do they all lead the mind up to its great Creator! Not a single discovery in science, not an investigation of the simplest law of nature, not an examination of the most insignificant bud or flower or leaf; and, above and beyond all, not an inquiry in the great truths of morals, of ethics, of religion, or of the very constitution of the mind itself, but at once, and in the most natural consequence, reveals the power and the goodness of God--brings God himself as clearly before us as he _can_ be manifested to our fettered souls. Yet if these pleasures too were but temporary, if they were to pass from our sight with all our other earthly surroundings, the pursuit of them would but beget disgust and discontent, and they would be classed with the fragile things which awaken no feelings of awe, nor enhance the glory of the soul. But thank God! they will endure forever. Truth is eternal--its origin is coeval with the Creator, and, like Him, it shall have no end.

Hence all real pleasure is from God himself, and leads directly back to him again. And he who, appreciating the truest joy of existence here, makes such themes his study, should and will seek the only prolongation of those delights which shall carry them alone of all life's blessings with him across the dark river, in the worship and adoration of that omnipotent Being from whose hand these gifts descend, who alone can perpetuate them when time shall have passed away--that God who 'doeth all things well.'

LITERARY NOTICES.

CHAPLAIN FULLER: Being a Life Sketch of a New England Clergyman and Army Chaplain. By Richard F. Fuller. Boston: Walker, Wise & Co., 245 Washington street.

"I must do something for my country."

A remarkable record of a remarkable man. A distinguished member of a distinguished family, a gentleman, scholar, patriot, hero, and Christian, bravely dying for humanity and country--such was Arthur B. Fuller.

It would be impossible, in the few lines allotted to editorials, to give any just idea of the exceeding interest and merit of this sketch. A. B. Fuller, under peculiar circumstances of emergency and danger, _volunteered_ to cross the Rappahannock, December 11, 1862. It was of great importance then to prove that the Federal army was composed of strong and patriotic hearts, and he was revered and idolized by our brave soldiers. 'It was a duty which could not be required of him. And for one of his profession to consistently engage in this enterprise would prove his strong conviction that it was a work so holy, so acceptable to God, that even those set apart for sanctuary service might feel called to have a hand in it. His prowess, brave as he was, was nothing; it was not his unpractised right _arm_, but his _heart_ which he devoted to the service, and which would tell on the result, not merely of that special enterprise, nor of that battle only, but, by affording a powerful proof of love of country outweighing considerations of safety and life, would have the influence which a living example, and only a living example, can have.' He knew the full amount of the danger to be encountered, and, being of a race which numbers no cowards among them, he steadily looked it in the face. Captain Dunn says: 'We came over in boats, and were in advance of the others who had crossed. We had been here but a few minutes when Chaplain Fuller accosted me with his usual military salute. He had a musket in his hand, and said: 'Captain, I must do something for my country. What shall I do?' I replied that there never was a better time than the present, and he could take his place on my left. I thought he could render valuable aid, because he was perfectly cool and collected. Had he appeared at all excited, I should have rejected his services, for coolness is of the first importance with skirmishers, and one excited man has an unfavorable influence upon others. I have seldom seen a person on the field so calm and mild in his demeanor, evidently not acting from impulse or martial rage.

'His position was directly in front of a grocery store. He fell in five minutes after he took it, having fired once or twice. He was killed instantly, and did not move after he fell. I saw the flash of the rifle which did the deed.'

'He died, but to a noble cause His precious life was given! He died, but he has left behind A shining path to heaven!'

His labors as a pastor were devout, humane, and full of self-abnegation. No single line of sectarianism blurs with its bitterness this fair record of a blameless life, devoted from its earliest days to God and country. 'Better still give up our heart's blood in brave battle than give up our principles in cowardly compromise! I must do something for my country!' Bold and brave words of Arthur B. Fuller's, which he sealed in his blood! This 'life sketch' is published in the hope that it may be of advantage to the family of the chaplain, to whose benefit its pecuniary avails are devoted. And shame would it be to the heart of this great nation if this record of a brave, true man were not thoroughly accepted by it. May the good seed of it be sown broadcast through our land, planting the germs of patriotism, self-sacrifice, virtue, and Christian faith in every heart.

We earnestly commend the book to our readers. May the high estimation in which this Christian hero is held by the country of his love soothe in some degree the anguish of his bereaved family!

A FIRST LATIN COURSE. By William Smith, LL.D. Edited by H. Drisler, A.M. 12mo, pp. 186. Harper & Brothers.

This is an elementary class-book, and the name of the profound scholar standing upon its title-page will at once commend it to all intelligent teachers. It is the first of a series intended to simplify the study of the Latin language, in which will be combined the advantages of the older and modern methods of instruction. The experienced author has labored, by a philosophical series of repetitions, to enable the beginner to fix declensions and conjugations thoroughly in his memory, to learn their usage by the constructing of simple sentences as soon as he commences the study of the language, and to accumulate gradually a stock of useful words. This is, surely, the only method to make a dead language live in the mind of a pupil.

A TEXT-BOOK OF PENMANSHIP, containing all the established rules and principles of the art, with rules for Punctuation, Direction, and Forms for Letter Writing: to which are added a brief History of Writing, and Hints on Writing Materials, &c., &c., for Teachers and Pupils. By H. W. Ellsworth, teacher of Penmanship in the public schools of New York city, and for several years teacher of Bookkeeping, Penmanship, and Commercial Correspondence in Bryant, Stratton & Co.'s Chain of Mercantile Colleges. D. Appleton & Co., New York.

Those accustomed to the wearisome labor of deciphering illegible handwriting will welcome the appearance of any 'standard text-book enabling all to become tolerable writers.' What a desideratum! Let the disappointment over manuscripts frequently rejected, simply because illegible, and the despair of printers, tell. The book before us seems well adapted to attain the end it proposes. The writer says: 'This work is no creation of a leisure hour, but a careful elaboration of _practical_ notes, taken in the midst of active duties. The materials of which it is made are facts, not embodied in our school books, which it appeared important for all to know, together with conclusions drawn from them, and answers to questions of practical interest, which have arisen in the course of my school and after experience, to which no books within ordinary reach could afford satisfactory explanation. These facts and observations have gradually accumulated till it has occurred to me that a compilation of them, properly arranged, might prove as acceptable to other inquirers as such a work would have been to myself.'

This book is full of valuable information in all that relates to the abused and neglected art of penmanship, and we cordially recommend it to schools, teachers, and pupils.

ANNETTE; OR, THE LADY OF THE PEARLS. By Alexander Dumas (the younger), author of 'La Dame aux Camelias; or, Camille, the Camellia Lady.' Translated by Mrs. W. R. A. Johnson. Frederick A. Brady, publisher and bookseller, 24 Ann street, New York.

A novel in the Eugene Sue, Dumas, father and son, style. The plot is complicated, and the translation flowing and spirited. The novels of this school are peculiar. No sense of right and wrong ever seems to dawn upon their heroes or heroines; no intimations of an outraged Decalogue ever add the least embarrassment to the difficulties of their position. The events grow entirely out of human incidents, passions, and interests--conscience has no part to play in the involved drama. After passing through seas of _naïve_ intrigue and _innocent_ vice, we are quite astonished at the close of 'The Lady of the Pearls' to be landed upon a short moral.

POLITICAL FALLACIES: An Examination of the False Assumptions, and Refutation of the Sophistical Reasonings, which have brought on this Civil War. By George Junkin, D.D., LL.D. New York: Chas. Scribner, 124 Grand street. 1863.

Dr. Junkin is one of the noble band of patriots who have preferred leaving friends, comfortable homes, and honorable positions, to ceding self-respect, and polluting conscience by yielding to the tyrannical requisitions of local prejudice or usurped authority. He is the father-in-law of 'Stonewall' Jackson, and, during twelve years, was President of Washington College, Lexington, Va. In May, 1861, he left that institution and came North. Rebellion had entered the fair precincts of learning, misleading alike young and old, and prompting to acts incompatible with the president's high sense of duty and loyalty. No course was left him but to resign. His book is a clear and upright examination into the so-called 'right of secession, and, while there are some minor points one might feel inclined to discuss, the main arguments are so ably, truthfully, and yet kindly advanced, that we heartily recommend the book to the perusal of all desirous of obtaining sound views on the much-mooted questions of the authority of legitimate government, and the proper understanding of State and National rights. The eighteenth chapter contains some home truths for those who think that religion, consequently Christian morality, has nothing to do with the rulers or the ruling of a great nation. Slavery has had its share in the production of the 'great rebellion,' but the slavery question would have been powerless to disrupt the Union had not erroneous and mischievous ideas been generally current, both South and North, regarding the source and meaning of government, its legitimate purposes, powers, and rights. While individual men have been striving to persuade themselves that, because they formed a certain minute portion of the governing power, they were hence at liberty to resist the lawful exercise of that power, the people--the real people--have gradually been losing their proper weight and authority, have been surrendering themselves, bound hand and foot, to noisy demagogues, petty cliques, or corrupt party organizations. How many examine facts, consider principles, and vote accordingly? How few are willing to step out of the narrow circle of prejudice or mediocrity surrounding them, and bestow responsible places on those whose integrity and ability seem best fitted to attain the nobler ends proposed by all human government? It may be that corruption, loose notions on the duties of citizenship, love of luxury, and grovelling materialism are even now sources of greater danger to the republic than civil war and threatened dissolution. Such works as that of Dr. Junkin are valuable as assisting to open the eyes of the community to certain popular fallacies, and teach the broad distinction ever subsisting between right and wrong.

* * * * *

THE DEMOCRATIC LEAGUE.--Amongst all the papers and pamphlets issued from the press during our present war, none, perhaps, have exercised a more salutary influence than those emanating from this association. The article entitled SLAVERY AND NOBILITY vs. DEMOCRACY was originally published in this periodical for July, 1862. Pronounced by critics to be among the best magazine articles ever appearing in print, it commanded a very marked attention as an exposition of the atrocious motives that underlaid the great Southern rebellion. The public mind was startled at the developed evidence of a great conspiracy to subvert the fundamental principles of free government in the South. The coalition between the conspirators of the South and their allies amongst the aristocracy of England was laid bare, whilst a great portion of the English press and reviews was shown to be suborned into the service of the most atrocious objects and purposes that ever disgraced the annals of civilization. This article, whilst it elucidated to our own countrymen the secret motives of the rebellion, assisted powerfully to bring a new phase over a perverted English public opinion. The result has been that the vitiated disposition of the English aristocracy to assist the rebels, through intervention, has slunk away before British morality, and is now seen only in aid of piracy on our commerce.

Following this masterly production, the speech of Mr. Sherwood at Champlain was a renewed onslaught upon the anti-democratic coalition. In this speech the most irrefragable evidence, drawn from the recitals in the records of treason, is produced against the conspirators. The perusal of this speech leaves the mind in no doubt as to the purpose of the traitors to overthrow democratic government in the South, and to establish a new form of government, based on exclusion of the democratic principle, and resting on a cemented slave aristocracy. These, amongst other papers of the Democratic League, are so replete with the evidence by which their positions are fortified, and so comprehensive in the scope and magnitude of subjects of which they treat, that they must take a high position in the political literature of the day. The manifold opinions of the press demonstrate how highly they are appreciated. They are now being reproduced in THE IRON PLATFORM, published by Wm. Oland Bourne, 112 William street, New York, and intended for extensive circulation in the cheapest form.

BOOKS RECEIVED.

THE CHRISTIAN EXAMINER for May, 1863. Boston: By the proprietors, Thomas B. Fox, Jos. Henry Allen, at Walker, Wise & Co.'s, 245 Washington street.

Articles: Benedict Spinoza; The New Homeric Question; State Reform in Austria; Courage in Belief; Jane Austen's Novels; New Books of Piety; The Thirty-seventh Congress; Review of Current Literature.

THE ILLINOIS TEACHER: Devoted to Education, Science, and Free Schools. May. Peoria, Illinois: Published by N. C. Mason. Editors, Alexander W. Gow, Rock Island; Samuel A. Briggs, Chicago.

THE MASSACHUSETTS TEACHER: A Journal of Home and School Education. Resident editors, Chas. Ansorge, Dorchester; Wm. T. Adams, Boston; W. E. Sheldon, West Newton. May number. Published by the Massachusetts Teachers' Association, No. 119 Washington street, Boston.

EDITOR'S TABLE.

THE REVIVAL OF CONFIDENCE.

Perhaps it is an error to assume that confidence has ever been wanting to sustain the loyal people of the land in their determination to conquer the rebellion. Yet there have been times when despondency seemed to take possession of the public mind, and when the failure of our plans or temporary disaster to our arms revealed the sad divisions which exist among ourselves, and apparently postponed the success of our cause to a period so indefinite as to make the heart of the patriot sick with hope deferred. But ever and anon, through all the changeful incidents of the momentous contest, there have been gleams of light, in which the national strength and greatness have made themselves manifest, and have been so vividly felt as to place the public confidence on a sure and impregnable basis. The present is one of those periods. Americans feel that their Government cannot be overthrown: in spite of the sinister predictions of enemies at home and abroad, they have an instinctive assurance that our noble institutions are not destined to perish in this lamentable conflict, stricken down by ungrateful and traitorous hands in the very outset of a great career. The clouds which have gathered around us are thick and dark; sometimes they have seemed impenetrable; but again they separate, we see the blue sky, the stars come out in all their glory, and even the sun pours his intense rays through the intervals of the storm. We say to ourselves, Courage! this cannot last always; there are the firmament, the stars, and the glorious sun still behind the clouds, and, though long hidden from us, we know they are there, and will reveal themselves again in all their unclouded splendor. It is with a confidence as strong as this in the very depths of their souls that American citizens still look for the reappearance of the stars of our destiny, the resurrection of the Union in still greater beauty and strength, and the uninterrupted pursuit of its glorious career through the coming ages. Such, heretofore, have been the cherished hopes which have hung around them like a firmament, and they are not yet prepared to believe that their political universe has been, or ever can be, annihilated.

Nor is this confidence a mere sentiment, born of the imagination, and nurtured by vainglorious hope. It has for its support far more substantial grounds than any merely precarious military successes, or any of the favorable incidents which, from time to time, may be cast ashore as waifs by the surging tide of civil war. Let the temporary fortunes of the war be what they will, yet the general bearing of the old Government, its evident consciousness of strength, its unshaken solidity in the midst of the storm which assails it, the confidence that, even with all its errors and blunders, it is still powerful enough to prevail--all these appeal irresistibly to the hearts and judgments of Americans, and make them love and confide in their country, and believe in her destiny, in spite of her misfortunes. The tenacity and stubborn purpose of the rebels are, indeed, remarkable. Their position gives them great advantages for such a conflict; and it must be admitted that they have shown the eminently bad genius to make the most of their fatal opportunities. Yet is the contest most unequal, and the ultimate result of discomfiture to them inevitable. The Federal Government, like a sluggish but powerful man scarcely yet aroused to the exertion of his full strength, moves slowly and awkwardly, and lays about him with careless and inefficient blows; while his active adversary, inferior in strength and in the moral power of his cause, but more fully aroused and more energetic, strikes with better effect, and makes every blow tell. Nevertheless, the strength of the one remains unexhausted, and even increases as he becomes awakened to the demands of the struggle; while that of the other slowly and gradually, but inevitably and irretrievably declines, with every hour of intense strain of faculty which the dreadful work imposes. Partial observers, imbued with sympathy in bad designs, and blinded by false hopes through that fatal error, may still think the South is certain to prevail and to establish the empire of slavery; but cooler heads, with vision made clear by love of humanity, cannot fail to see a different result as the necessary end of the contest. The South herself, under the shadow of a dread responsibility, begins to understand the nature of the case, and the exact position in which she stands; but she is playing a bold and desperate game for the

## active support of foreign powers. She knows well that the sympathies of

the ruling classes abroad are naturally on her side, and she will maintain the struggle to the last extremity, so long as a gleam of hope shines in that quarter. That hope finally extinguished, she knows perfectly well her cause is lost.

The contrast in the financial condition of the contending sections is of itself enough to settle the question of ultimate success. The Federal Government stands this day stronger than ever in the plenitude of her boundless resources, and proudly contemptuous of all the false prophecies of failure and bankruptcy. She is fully prepared for new campaigns, and cannot be dismayed by any possible disaster. She has men and money in abundance sufficient for any emergency. She can stretch forth one hand to relieve the suffering people of England and Ireland, while with the other she fights the great battle of liberty against slavery, of humanity against wrong and oppression. Secure in the sympathies of the masses of men everywhere, she stands on the solid ground, which can never be withdrawn from under her feet. She occupies the central position of freedom and progress, around which cluster and gravitate the hopes and aspirations of all mankind. The conflicting elements may rage and storm; the solid ground may tremble, and even be torn with earthquake convulsions and superficial ruin; but the grand central structure, with its organizing forces, and its inward heat of humanity, with the great life-giving sun of liberty yet shining undimmed upon it, will still remain the refuge of all nations, and the chosen home of all the lovers and champions of human freedom.

* * * * *

Oh! why, sweet poet, is thy strain so sad? Couldst thou not stamp thy joy on human life? Yea, even the saddest life has many joys. Couldst thou not stamp thy joy upon the page, That they who should come after thee might feel Their spirits gladdened by it, and their hearts Made lighter with thy lightsomeness? For thou, They say, wert joyous as a summer bird, The very light and life of those who knew thee-- Oh! why, then, is thy song so sad? 'Tis wrong, 'Tis surely wrong, to spend in fond complainings The talents given for nobler purposes; And he who goes about this world of ours Diffusing cheerfulness where'er he goes, Like one who scatters fresh and fragrant flowers, Fulfils, I can but think, a better part Than he who mourns and murmurs life away.

....The poet Is the revealer of the heart's deep secrets; The poet is the interpreter of nature; And shall those light and joyous spirits, they Who make bright sunshine wheresoe'er they go, Shall they have no interpreter?

FOOTNOTES:

[1] See Hon. R. J. WALKER'S invaluable papers on 'The Union,' in CONTINENTAL MONTHLY.

[2] Razeed from a line-of-battle ship.

[3] Lost at sea

[4] Destroyed by her officers opposite the rebel batteries at Port Hudson, Mississippi.

[5] Taken by the rebels at Galveston.

[6] Foundered at sea.

[7] Taken by the rebels.

[8] Destroyed by the rebel gunboats below Vicksburg.

* * * * *

These compounds make available to the people the higher attainments of medical skill, and more efficient remedial aid than has hitherto been within their reach. While faithfully made, they will continue to excel all other remedies in use, by the rapidity and certainty of their cures. That they shall not fail in this we take unwearied pains to make every box and bottle perfect, and trust, by great care in preparing them with chemical accuracy and uniform strength, to supply remedies which shall maintain themselves in the unfailing confidence of this whole nation, and of all nations.

~AYER'S CHERRY PECTORAL~

is an anodyne expectorant, prepared to meet the urgent demand for a safe and reliable antidote for diseases of the throat and lungs. Disorders of the pulmonary organs are so prevalent and so fatal in our ever-changing climate, that a reliable antidote is invaluable to the whole community. The indispensable qualities of such a remedy for popular use must be, certainty of healthy operation, absence of danger from accidental over-doses, and adaptation to every patient of any age or either sex. These conditions have been realized in this preparation, which, while it reaches to the foundations of disease, and acts with unfailing certainty, is still harmless to the most delicate invalid or tender infant. A trial of many years has proved to the world that it is efficacious in curing pulmonary complaints beyond any remedy hitherto known to mankind. As time makes these facts wider and better known, this medicine has gradually become a staple necessity, from the log cabin of the American peasant to the palaces of European kings. Throughout this entire country--in every State, city, and indeed almost every hamlet it contains--the CHERRY PECTORAL is known by its works. Each has living evidence of its unrivalled usefulness, in some recovered victim, or victims, from the threatening symptoms of Consumption. Although this is not true to so great an extent for distempers of the respiratory organs, and in several of them it is extensively used by their most intelligent physicians. In Great Britain, France, and Germany, where the medical sciences have reached their highest perfection, CHERRY PECTORAL is introduced and in constant use in the armies, hospitals, almshouses, public institutions, and in domestic practice, as the surest remedy their attending physicians can employ for the more dangerous affections of the lungs. Thousands of cases of pulmonary disease, which had baffled every expedient of human skill, have been permanently cured by the CHERRY PECTORAL, and these cures speak convincingly to all who know them.

Many of the certificates of its cures are so remarkable that cautious people are led to feel incredulous of their truth, or to fear the statements are overdrawn. When they consider that each of our remedies is a specific on which great labor has been expended for years to perfect it, and when they further consider how much better anything can be done which is exclusively followed with the facilities that large manufactories afford, then they may see not only that we do, but _how_ we make better medicines than have been produced before. Their effects need astonish no one, when their history is considered with the fact that each preparation has been elaborated to cure one class of diseases, or, more properly, one disease in its many varieties.

AYER'S CATHARTIC PILLS

have been prepared with the utmost skill which the medical profession of this age possesses, and their effects show they have virtues which surpass any combination of medicines hitherto known. Other preparations do more or less good; but this cures such dangerous complaints, so quickly and so surely, as to prove an efficacy and a power to uproot disease beyond anything which men have known before. By removing the abstractions of the internal organs and stimulating them into healthy

## action, they renovate the fountains of life and vigor,--health courses

anew through the body, and the sick man is well again. They are adapted to disease, and disease only, for when taken by one in health they produce but little effect. This is the perfection of medicine. It is antagonistic to disease and no more. Tender children may take them with impunity. If they are sick they will cure them, if they are well they will do them no harm.

Give them to some patient who has been prostrated with bilious complaint: see his bent-up, tottering form straighten with strength again: see his long-lost appetite return: see his clammy features blossom into health. Give them to some sufferer whose foul blood has burst out in scrofula till his skin is covered with sores; who stands, or sits, or lies in anguish. He has been drenched inside and out with every potion which ingenuity could suggest. Give him these PILLS, and mark the effect; see the scabs fall from his body; see the new, fair skin that has grown under them; see the late leper that is clean. Give them to him whose angry humors have planted rheumatism in his joints and bones; move him and he screeches with pain; he too has been soaked through every muscle of his body with liniments and salves; give him these PILLS to purify his blood; they may not cure him, for, alas! there are cases which no mortal power can reach; but mark, he walks with crutches now, and now he walks alone; they have cured him. Give them to the lean, sour, haggard dyspeptic, whose gnawing stomach has long ago eaten every smile from his face and every muscle from his body. See his appetite return, and with it his health; see the new man. See her that was radiant with health and loveliness blasted and too early withering away; want of exercise or mental anguish, or some lurking disease, has deranged the internal organs of digestion, assimilation or secretion, till they do their office ill. Her blood is vitiated, her health is gone. Give her these PILLS to stimulate the vital principle into renewed vigor, to cast out the obstructions, and infuse a new vitality into the blood. Now look again--the roses blossom on her cheek, and where lately sorrow sat joy bursts from every feature. See the sweet infant wasted with worms. Its wan, sickly features tell you without disguise, and painfully distinct, that they are eating its life away. Its pinched-up nose and ears, and restless sleepings, tell the dreadful truth in language which every mother knows. Give it the PILLS in large doses to sweep these vile parasites from the body. Now turn again and see the ruddy bloom of childhood. Is it nothing to do these things? Nay, are they not the marvel of this age? And yet they are done around you every day.

Have you the less serious symptoms of these distempers, they are the easier cured. Jaundice, Costiveness, Headache, Sideache, Heartburn, Foul Stomach, Nausea, Pain in the Bowels, Flatulency, Loss of Appetite, King's Evil, Neuralgia, Gout, and kindred complaints all arise from the derangements which these PILLS rapidly cure. Take them perseveringly, and under the counsel of a good physician if you can; if not, take them judiciously by such advice as we give you, and the distressing, dangerous diseases they cure, which afflict so many millions of the human race, are cast out like the devils of old--they must burrow in the brutes and in the sea.

Prepared by DR. J. C. AYER & CO.,

PRACTICAL AND ANALYTICAL CHEMISTS,

LOWELL, MASS.,

And Sold by all Druggists.

* * * * *

NOW COMPLETE.

THE NEW AMERICAN CYCLOPÆDIA,

A POPULAR DICTIONARY OF GENERAL KNOWLEDGE.

EDITED BY

GEORGE RIPLEY AND C. A. DANA,

ASSISTED BY A NUMEROUS BUT SELECT CORPS OF WRITERS.

The design of THE NEW AMERICAN CYCLOPÆDIA is to furnish the great body of intelligent readers in this country with a popular Dictionary of General Knowledge.

THE NEW AMERICAN CYCLOPÆDIA is not founded on any European model; in its plan and elaboration it is strictly original, and strictly American. Many of the writers employed on the work have enriched it with their personal researches, observations, and discoveries; and every article has been written, or re-written, expressly for its pages.

It is intended that the work shall bear such a character of practical utility as to make it indispensable to every American library.

Throughout its successive volumes, THE NEW AMERICAN CYCLOPÆDIA will present a fund of accurate and copious information on SCIENCE, ART, AGRICULTURE, COMMERCE, MANUFACTURES, LAW, MEDICINE, LITERATURE, PHILOSOPHY, MATHEMATICS, ASTRONOMY, HISTORY, BIOGRAPHY, GEOGRAPHY, RELIGION, POLITICS, TRAVELS, CHEMISTRY, MECHANICS, INVENTIONS, and TRADES.

Abstaining from all doctrinal discussions, from all sectional and sectarian arguments, it will maintain the position of absolute impartiality on the great controverted questions which have divided opinions in every age.

PRICE.

This work is published exclusively by subscription, in sixteen large octavo volumes, each containing 750 two-column pages.

Price per volume, cloth, $3.50; library style, leather, $4; half morocco, 4.50; half russia, extra, $5.

_From the London Daily News._

It is beyond all comparison the best,--indeed, we should feel quite justified in saying it is the only book of reference upon the Western Continent that has ever appeared. No statesman or politician can afford to do without it, and it will be a treasure to every student of the moral and physical condition of America. Its information is minute, full, and accurate upon every subject connected with the country. Beside the constant attention of the Editors, it employs the pens of a a host of most distinguished transatlantic writers--statesmen, lawyers, divines, soldiers, a vast array of scholarship from the professional chairs of the Universities, with numbers of private literati, and men devoted to special pursuits.

* * * * *

HOME INSURANCE COMPANY OF NEW YORK, OFFICE, 112 & 114 BROADWAY.

CASH CAPITAL, $1,000,000. Assets, 1st Jan., 1860, $1,458,396 28. Liabilities, 1st Jan., 1860, 42,580 43.

THIS COMPANY INSURES AGAINST LOSS & DAMAGE BY FIRE, ON FAVORABLE TERMS.

LOSSES EQUITABLY ADJUSTED & PROMPTLY PAID.

DIRECTORS:

Charles J. Martin, A. F. Willmarth, William G. Lambert, George C. Collins, Danford N. Barney, Lucius Hopkins, Thomas Messenger, William H. Mellen Charles B. Hatch, B. Watson Bull, Homer Morgan, L. Roberts, Levi P. Stone, James Humphrey, George Pearce, Ward A. Work, James Lowe, I. H. Frothingham, Charles A. Bulkley, Albert Jewitt, George D. Morgan, Theodore McNamee, Richard Bigelow, Oliver E. Wood, Alfred S. Barnes, George Bliss, Roe Lockwood, Levi P. Morton, Curtis Noble, John B. Hutchinson, Charles P. Baldwin, Amos T. Dwight, Henry A. Hurlbut, Jesse Hoyt, William Sturgis, Jr., John R. Ford, Sidney Mason, G. T. Stedman, Cinn. Cyrus Yale, Jr., William R. Fosdick, F. H. Cossitt, David J. Boyd, Albany, S. B. Caldwell, A. J. Wills, W. H. Townsend.

CHARLES J. MARTIN, President. JOHN McGEE, Secretary. A. F. WILLMARTH, Vice-President.

* * * * *

~HUMPHREYS' SPECIFIC HOMOEOPATHIC REMEDIES~

Have proved, from the most ample experience, an entire success. ~Simple~, Prompt, Efficient~, and ~Reliable~, they are the only medicines perfectly adapted to ~FAMILY USE~, and the satisfaction they have afforded in all cases has elicited the highest commendations from the ~Profession~, the ~People~, and the ~Press~.

cts. No. 1. Cures Fever, Congestion & Inflammation 25 " 2. " Worms and Worm Diseases 25 " 3. " Colic, Teething, etc., of Infants 25 " 4. " Diarrhoea of Children & Adults 25 " 5. " Dysentery and Colic 25 " 6. " Cholera and Cholera Morbus 25 " 7. " Coughs, Colds, Hoarseness and Sore Throat 25 " 8. " Neuralgia, Toothache & Faceache 25 " 9. " Headache, Sick Headache & Vertigo 25 " 10. " Dyspepsia & Bilious Condition 25 " 11. " Wanting Scanty or Painful Periods 25 " 12. " Whites, Bearing Down or Profuse Periods 25 " 13. " Croup and Hoarse Cough 25 " 14. " Salt Rheum and Eruptions 25 " 15. " Rheumatism, Acute or Chronic 25 " 16. " Fever & Ague and Old Agues 50 " 17. " Piles or Hemorrhoids of all kinds 50 " 18. " Ophthalmy and Weak Eyes 50 " 19. " Catarrh and Influenza 50 " 20. " Whooping Cough 50 " 21. " Asthma & Oppressed Respiration 50 " 22. " Ear Discharges & Difficult Hearing 50 " 23. " Scrofula, Enlarged Glands & Tonsils 50 " 24. " General Debility & Weakness " 25. " Dropsy 50 " 26. " Sea-Sickness & Nausea 50 " 27. " Urinary & Kidney Complaints 50 " 28. " Seminal Weakness, Involuntary Dishcarges and consequent prostration $1.00 " 29. " Sore Mouth and Canker 50 " 30. " Urinary Incontinence & Enurisis 50 " 31. " Painful Menstruation 50 " 32. " Diseases at Change of Life $1.00 " 33. " Epilepsy & Spars & Chorea St. Viti 1.00

PRICE.

Case of Thirty-five Vials, in morocco case, and Book, complete $8.00 Case of Twenty-eight large Vials, in morocco, and Book 7.00 Case of Twenty large Vials, in morocco, and Book 5.00 Case of Twenty large Vials, plain case, and Book 4.00 Case of fifteen Boxes (Nos. 1 to 15), and Book 2.00 Case of any Six Boxes (Nos. 1 to 15), and Book 1.00

Single Boxes, with directions as above, 25 cents, 50 cents, or $1.

[Illustration: pointing finger] ~THESE REMEDIES, BY THE CASE OR SINGLE BOX, are sent to any part of the country by Mail, or Express, Free of Charge, on receipt of the Price.~ Address,

~DR. F. HUMPHREYS, 562 BROADWAY, NEW YORK~

* * * * *

[Illustration]

FRIENDS AND RELATIVES

OF THE

~BRAVE SOLDIERS~

AND

~SAILORS.~

HOLLOWAY'S

~PILLS~

AND

~OINTMENT~

All who have friends and relatives in the Army or Navy should take especial care that they be amply supplied with these Pills and Ointment; and where the brave Soldiers and Sailors have neglected to provide themselves with them, no better present can be sent them by their friends. They have been proved to be the Soldier's never-failing-friend in the hour of need.

~COUGHS AND COLDS AFFECTING TROOPS~

will be speedily relieved and effectually cured by using these admirable medicines, and by paying proper attention to the Directions which are attached to each Pot or Box.

~SICK HEADACHES AND WANT OF APPETITE, INCIDENTAL TO SOLDIERS.~

These feelings which so sadden us usually arise from trouble or annoyances, obstructed perspiration, or eating and drinking whatever is unwholesome, thus disturbing the healthful action of the liver and stomach. These organs must be relieved, if you desire to be well. The Pills, taken according to the printed instructions, will quickly produce a healthy action in both liver and stomach, and, as a natural consequence, a clear head and good appetite.

~WEAKNESS OR DEBILITY INDUCED BY OVER FATIGUE~

will soon disappear by the use of these invaluable Pills, and the Soldier will quickly acquire additional strength. Never let the bowels be either confined or unduly acted upon. It may seem strange, that HOLLOWAY'S PILLS should be recommended for Dysentery and Flux, many persons supposing that they would increase the relaxation. This is a great mistake, for these Pills will correct the liver and stomach, and thus remove all the acrid humors from the system. This medicine will give tone and vigor to the whole organic system, however deranged, while health and strength follow, as a matter of course. Nothing will stop the relaxation of the bowels so sure as this famous medicine.

~VOLUNTEERS, ATTENTION! THE INDISCRETIONS OF YOUTH.~

Sores and Ulcers, Blotches and Swellings, can with certainty be radically cured, if the Pills are taken night and morning, and the Ointment be freely used as stated in the printed instructions. If treated in any other manner, they dry up in one part to break out in another. Whereas, this Ointment will remove the humors from the system and leave the patient a vigorous and healthy man. It will require a little perseverance in bad cases to insure a lasting cure.

* * * * *

~JOSEPH GILLOTT~

respectfully invites the attention of the public to the following Numbers of his

~PATENT METALLIC PENS~,

WHICH, FOR

~QUALITY OF MATERIAL, EASY ACTION, AND GREAT DURABILITY,~

WILL ENSURE UNIVERSAL PREFERENCE.

* * * * *

~FOR LADIES' USE.~--For fine neat writing, especially on thick and highly-finished papers, Nos. 1, 173, 303, 604. IN EXTRA-FINE POINTS. ~FOR GENERAL USE.~--Nos. 2, 164, 166, 168, 604. IN FINE POINTS. ~FOR BOLD FREE WRITING.~--Nos. 3, 164, 166, 168, 604. IN MEDIUM POINTS. ~FOR GENTLEMEN'S USE.~--FOR LARGE, FREE, BOLD WRITING.--The Black Swan Quill, Large Barrel Pen, No. 808. The Patent Magnum Bonum, No. 263. IN MEDIUM AND BROAD POINTS. ~FOR GENERAL WRITING.~--No. 263, IN EXTRA-FINE POINTS. No. 810, New Bank Pen. No. 262, IN FINE POINTS, Small Barrel. No. 840, The Autograph Pen. ~FOR COMMERCIAL PURPOSES.~--The celebrated Three-Hole Correspondence Pen, No. 382. The celebrated Four-Hole Correspondence Pen, No. 202. The Public Pen, No. 292. The Public Pen, with Bead, No. 404. Small Barrel Pens, fine and free, Nos. 392, 405, 608.

* * * * *

~MANUFACTURERS' WAREHOUSE,~ 91 JOHN STREET, Cor. of GOLD ~HENRY OWEN, Agent.~

* * * * *

~NINE ARTICLES~

THAT EVERY FAMILY SHOULD HAVE!!

The Agricultural Societies of the State of New York, New Jersey, and Queens County, L. I., at their latest Exhibitions awarded the highest premiums (gold medal, silver medal, and diplomas), for these articles, and the public generally approve them.

~1st.--PYLE'S O. K. SOAP,~

The most complete labor-saving and economical soap that has been brought before the public. Good for washing all kinds of clothing, fine flannels, silks, laces, and for toilet and bathing purposes. The best class of families adopt it in preference to all others--Editors of the TRIBUNE, EVENING POST, INDEPENDENT, EVANGELIST, EXAMINER, CHRONICLE, METHODIST, ADVOCATE AND JOURNAL, CHURCH JOURNAL, AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST, and of many other weekly journals, are using it in their offices and families. We want those who are disposed to encourage progress and good articles to give this and the following articles a trial.

~2d.--PYLE'S DIETETIC SALERATUS,~

a strictly pure and wholesome article; in the market for several years, and has gained a wide reputation among families and bakers throughout the New England and Middle States; is always of a uniform quality, and free from all the objections of impure saleratus.

~3d.--PYLE'S GENUINE CREAM TARTAR,~

always the same, and never fails to make light biscuit. Those who want the best will ask their grocer for this.

~4th.--PYLE'S PURIFIED BAKING SODA,~

suitable for medicinal and culinary use.

~5th.--PYLE'S BLUEING POWDERS,~

a splendid article for the laundress, to produce that alabaster whiteness so desirable in fine linens.

~6th.--PYLE'S ENAMEL BLACKING,~

the best boot polish and leather preservative in the world (Day and Martin's not excepted).

~7th.--PYLE'S BRILLIANT BLACK INK,~

a beautiful softly flowing ink, shows black at once, and is anti-corrosive to steel pens.

~8th.--PYLE'S STAR STOVE POLISH,~

warranted to produce a steel shine on iron ware. Prevents rust effectually, without causing any disagreeable smell, even on a hot stove.

~9th.--PYLE'S CREAM LATHER SHAVING SOAP,~

a "luxurious" article for gentlemen who shave themselves. It makes a rich lather that will keep thick and moist upon the face.

THESE ARTICLES are all put up full weight, and expressly for the best class trade, and first-class grocers generally have them for sale. Every article is labelled with the name of

~JAMES PYLE,~ 350 Washington St., cor. Franklin, N. Y.

* * * * *

[Illustration: STEINWAY & SONS' FACTORY, OCCUPYING THE ENTIRE BLOCK ON 4TH AVE, FROM 52D TO 53D ST.]

STEINWAY & SONS'

~GOLD MEDAL~

* * * * *

~PATENT OVERSTRUNG GRAND, SQUARE, AND UPRIGHT~

~PIANO-FORTES~,

HAVE BEEN AWARDED THE

First Premium at the Great World's Fair in London, 1862,

FOR

~POWER, FULL, CLEAR, BRILLIANT, AND SYMPATHETIC TONE,~

IN COMBINATION WITH

Excellent Workmanship shown in Grand and Square Pianos.

* * * * *

There were 290 Piano-Fortes entered for competition from all parts of the world, and in order to show what sensation these instruments have created in the Old World, we subjoin a few extracts from leading European papers.

FROM THE "_London News of the World_."

"These magnificent pianos, manufactured by Messrs. STEINWAY & SONS, of New York, are, without doubt, the musical gems of the Exhibition of 1862. They possess a tone that is the most liquid and bell-like we have ever heard, and combine the qualities of brilliancy and great power, without the slightest approach to harshness," &c.

Mr. HOCHE, one of the most competent musical critics of France, writes to the "_Presse Musicale_," Paris: "The firm of STEINWAY & SONS exhibits two pianos, both of which have attracted the special attention of the jurors. The square piano fully possesses the tone of a grand--it sounds really marvelously; the ample sound, the extension, the even tone, the sweetness, the power, are combined in these pianos as in no piano I have ever seen. The grand piano unites in itself all the qualities which you can demand of a concert piano; in fact, I do not hesitate to say that this piano is far better than all the English pianos which I have seen at the Exhibition," &c.

The "_Paris Constitutional_" says: "In the piano manufacture the palm don't belong to the European industry this year, but to an American house, almost unknown until now, Messrs. STEINWAY & SONS, of New York, who have carried off the first prize for piano-fortes," &c.

~WAREROOMS~, NOS. 82 & 84 WALKER ST., near Broadway, New York.

* * * * *

JOHN F. TROW,

BOOK & JOB PRINTER

No. 50 GREENE STREET,

(BETWEEN GRAND AND BROOME,) NEW YORK.

The Proprietor of this Establishment would ask the attention of PUBLISHERS, AUTHORS, STATESMEN, and others, to his

EXTENDED AND IMPROVED FACILITIES FOR EXECUTING

EVERY DESCRIPTION OF BOOK PRINTING,

SUCH AS

WORKS OF LAW, MEDICINE, THEOLOGY, SCIENCE;

MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE:

Works in the various Departments of Congress, or of State Legislatures;

ALSO, IN FOREIGN LANGUAGES: ORIENTAL, OCCIDENTAL, ANCIENT, OR MODERN,

in the _Best_ style, and with such _Promptness_ and _Accuracy_ as will, he presumes, give perfect satisfaction. He would remind his patrons and the public that his Establishment is furnished with every desirable improvement in Machinery, together with new and very large fonts of Type, with which he can undertake and perfect orders from any part of the United States on the shortest given contract. Having had more than thirty-five years' experience in the business, he is confident of meeting the tastes and expectations of all who may commit their works to his hands.

A PROMINENT FEATURE OF THIS OFFICE IS

TYPE SETTING & DISTRIBUTING BY MACHINERY.

The only Establishment in the World where Type is Set and Distributed by Machinery.

IT AFFORDS GREAT FACILITY AND ACCURACY.

PLAIN & FANCY JOB PRINTING,

Including Printing In Colored Inks, Bronzes, Flock, or Crystal, in the First Style.

BRONZE BORDERS FOR PHOTOGRAPHIC ALBUMS,

EQUAL TO THE BEST LITHOGRAPHIC PRINTING.

Stereotyping and Electrotyping

DONE IN THE BEST AND MOST DURABLE MANNER.

* * * * *

LAW NOTICE.

ROBERT J. WALKER, LATE SECRETARY OF THE TREASURY, AND

FREDERIC P. STANTON, LATE CHAIRMAN OF THE NAVAL AND JUDICIARY COMMITTEES OF CONGRESS,

~PRACTISE LAW~ in the SUPREME and CIRCUIT Courts at Washington, COURTS MARTIAL, the COURT OF CLAIMS, before the DEPARTMENTS and BUREAUS, especially in

~LAND, PATENT, CUSTOM HOUSE, AND WAR CLAIMS.~

Aided by two other associates, no part of an extensive business will be neglected. Address,

~WALKER & STANTON,~ Office, 218 F STREET, WASHINGTON CITY, D. C.

DUNCAN S. WALKER & ADRIEN DESLONDE will attend to Pensions, Bounties, Prize, Pay, and Similar Claims. WALKER & STANTON will aid them, when needful, as consulting counsel. Address WALKER & DESLONDE, same office, care of Walker & Stanton.

* * * * *

WARD'S TOOL STORE, (LATE WOOD'S,) Established 1831, 47 CHATHAM, cor. North William St., & 513 EIGHTH AV.

A GENERAL ASSORTMENT OF TOOLS, CUTLERY, AND HARDWARE, ALWAYS ON HAND.

_Maker of Planes, Braces & Bits, and Carpenters' & Mechanics' Tools,_ IN GREAT VARIETY AND OF THE BEST QUALITY.

N. B.--PLANES AND TOOLS MADE TO ORDER AND REPAIRED.

This widely-known Establishment still maintains its reputation for the unrivalled excellence of its OWN MANUFACTURED, as well as its FOREIGN ARTICLES, which comprise Tools for Every Branch of Mechanics and Artizans.

MECHANICS' AND ARTIZANS', AMATEURES' AND BOYS' TOOL CHESTS IN GREAT VARIETY, ON HAND, AND FITTED TO ORDER WITH TOOLS READY FOR USE.

The undersigned, himself a practical mechanic, having wrought at the business for upwards of thirty years, feels confident that he can meet the wants of those who may favor him with their patronage.

~SKATES.~

I have some of the finest Skates in the city, of my own as well as other manufactures. Every style and price.

[Illustration: pointing finger] Skates made to Fit the Foot without Straps.

WILLIAM WARD, Proprietor.

* * * * *

[Illustration: artificial leg]

~ARTIFICIAL LEGS~

[Illustration: artificial arm]

(BY RIGHT, PALMER'S PATENT IMPROVED)

Adapted to every species of mutilated limb, unequaled in mechanism and utility. Hands and Arms of superior excellence for mutilations and congenital defects. Feet and appurtenances, for limbs shortened by hip disease. Dr. HUDSON, by appointment of the Surgeon General of the U. S. Army, furnishes limbs to mutilated Soldiers and Marines. References.--Valentine Mett, M. D., Willard Parker, M. D., J. M. Carnochan, M. D. Gurden Buck, M. D., Wm. H. Van Buren, M. D.

Descriptive pamphlets sent gratis. E. D. HUDSON, M. D., ASTOR PLACE (8th St.), CLINTON HALL, Up Stairs.

* * * * *

The Continental Monthly.

The readers of the CONTINENTAL are aware of the important position it has assumed, of the influence which it exerts, and of the brilliant array of political and literary talent of the highest order which supports it. No publication of the kind has, in this country, so successfully combined the energy and freedom of the daily newspaper with the higher literary tone of the first-class monthly; and it is very certain that no magazine has given wider range to its contributors, or preserved itself so completely from the narrow influences of party or of faction. In times like the present, such a journal is either a power in the land or it is nothing. That the CONTINENTAL is not the latter is abundantly evidenced _by what it has done_--by the reflection of its counsels in many important public events, and in the character and power of those who are its staunchest supporters.

Though but little more than a year has elapsed since the CONTINENTAL was first established, it has during that time acquired a strength and a political significance elevating it to a position far above that previously occupied by any publication of the kind in America. In proof of which assertion we call attention to the following facts:

1. Of its POLITICAL articles republished in pamphlet form, a single one has had, thus far, a circulation of _one hundred and six thousand_ copies.

2. From its LITERARY department, a single serial novel, "Among the Pines," has, within a very few months, sold nearly _thirty-five thousand_ copies. Two other series of its literary articles have also been republished in book form, while the first portion of a third is already in press.

No more conclusive facts need be alleged to prove the excellence of the contributions to the CONTINENTAL, or their _extraordinary popularity;_ and its conductors are determined that it shall not fall behind. Preserving all "the boldness, vigor, and ability" which a thousand journals have attributed to it, it will greatly enlarge its circle of action, and discuss, fearlessly and frankly, every principle involved in the great questions of the day. The first minds of the country, embracing the men most familiar with its diplomacy and most distinguished for ability, are among its contributors; and it is no mere "flattering promise of a prospectus" to say that this "magazine for the times" will employ the first intellect in America, under auspices which no publication ever enjoyed before in this country.

While the CONTINENTAL will express decided opinions on the great questions of the day, it will not be a mere political journal: much the larger portion of its columns will be enlivened, as heretofore, by tales, poetry, and humor. In a word, the CONTINENTAL will be found, under its new staff of Editors, occupying a position and presenting attractions never before found in a magazine.

TERMS TO CLUBS.

Two copies for one year, Five dollars. Three copies for one year, Six dollars. Six copies for one year, Eleven dollars. Eleven copies for one year, Twenty dollars. Twenty copies for one year, Thirty-six dollars. PAID IN ADVANCE

_Postage, Thirty-six cents a year_, to be paid BY THE SUBSCRIBER.

SINGLE COPIES.

Three dollars a year, IN ADVANCE. _Postage paid by the Publisher_.

JOHN F. TROW, 50 Greene St., N. Y., PUBLISHER FOR THE PROPRIETORS.

[Illustration: pointing finger]As an Inducement to new subscribers, the Publisher offers the following liberal premiums:

[Illustration: pointing finger] Any person remitting $3, in advance, will receive the magazine from July, 1862, to January, 1864, thus securing the whole of Mr. KIMBALL'S and Mr. KIRKE'S new serials, which are alone worth the price of subscription. Or, if preferred, a subscriber can take the magazine for 1863 and a copy of "Among the Pines," or of "Undercurrents of Wall Street," by R. B. KIMBALL, bound in cloth, or of "Sunshine in Thought," by CHARLES GODFREY LELAND (retail price, $1. 25.) The book to be sent postage paid.

[Illustration: pointing finger] Any person remitting $4.50, will receive the magazine from its commencement, January, 1862, to January, 1864, thus securing Mr. KIMBALL'S "Was He Successful? "and Mr. KIRKE'S "Among the Pines," and "Merchant's Story," and nearly 3,000 octavo pages of the best literature in the world. Premium subscribers to pay their own postage.

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE FINEST FARMING LANDS WHEAT CORN COTTON FRUITS & VEGETABLES]

~EQUAL TO ANY IN THE WORLD!!!~

MAY BE PROCURED

~At FROM $8 to $12 PER ACRE,~

Near Markets, Schools, Railroads, Churches, and all the blessings of Civilization.

1,200,000 Acres, in Farms of 40, 80, 120, 160 Acres and upwards, in ILLINOIS, the Garden State of America.

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The Illinois Central Railroad Company offer, ON LONG CREDIT, the beautiful and fertile PRAIRIE LANDS lying along the whole line of their Railroad. 700 MILES IN LENGTH, upon the most Favorable Terms for enabling Farmers, Manufacturers, Mechanics and Workingmen to make for themselves and their families a competency, and a HOME they can call THEIR OWN, as will appear from the following statements:

ILLINOIS.

Is about equal in extent to England, with a population of 1,722,666, and a soil capable of supporting 20,000,000. No State in the Valley of the Mississippi offers so great an inducement to the settler as the State of Illinois. There is no part of the world where all the conditions of climate and soil so admirably combine to produce those two great staples, CORN and WHEAT.

CLIMATE.

Nowhere can the Industrious farmer secure such immediate results from his labor as on these deep, rich, loamy soils, cultivated with so much ease. The climate from the extreme southern part of the State to the Terre Haute, Alton and St. Louis Railroad, a distance of nearly 200 miles, is well adapted to Winter.

WHEAT, CORN, COTTON, TOBACCO.

Peaches, Pears, Tomatoes, and every variety of fruit and vegetables is grown in great abundance, from which Chicago and other Northern markets are furnished from four to six weeks earlier than their immediate vicinity. Between the Terre Haute, Alton & St. Louis Railway and the Kankakee and Illinois Rivers, (a distance of 115 miles on the Branch, and 136 miles on the Main Trunk,) lies the great Corn and Stock raising portion of the State.

THE ORDINARY YIELD

of Corn is from 60 to 80 bushels per acre. Cattle, Horses, Mules, Sheep and Hogs are raised here at a small cost, and yield large profits. It is believed that no section of country presents greater inducements for Dairy Farming than the Prairies of Illinois, a branch of farming to which but little attention has been paid, and which must yield sure profitable results. Between the Kankakee and Illinois Rivers, and Chicago and Dunleith, (a distance of 56 miles on the Branch and 147 miles by the Main Trunk,) Timothy Hay, Spring Wheat, Corn, &c., are produced in great abundance.

AGRICULTURAL PRODUCTS.

The Agricultural products of Illinois are greater than those of any other State. The Wheat crop of 1861 was estimated at 35,000,000 bushels, while the Corn crop yields not less than 140,000,000 bushels besides the crop of Oats, Barley, Rye, Buckwheat, Potatoes, Sweet Potatoes, Pumpkins, Squashes, Flax, Hemp, Peas, Clover, Cabbage, Beets, Tobacco, Sorgheim, Grapes, Peaches, Apples, &c., which go to swell the vast aggregate of production in this fertile region. Over Four Million tons of produce were sent out the State of Illinois during the past year.

STOCK RAISING.

In Central and Southern Illinois uncommon advantages are presented for the extension of Stock raising. All kinds of Cattle, Horses, Mules, Sheep, Hogs, &c., of the best breeds, yield handsome profits; large fortunes have already been made, and the field is open for others to enter with the fairest prospects of like results. Dairy Farming also presents its inducements to many.

CULTIVATION OF COTTON.

The experiments in Cotton culture are of very great promise. Commencing in latitude 39 deg. 30 min. (see Mattoon on the Branch, and Assumption on the Main Line), the Company owns thousands of acres well adapted to the perfection of this fibre. A settler having a family of young children, can turn their youthful labor to a most profitable account in the growth and perfection of this plant.

THE ILLINOIS CENTRAL RAILROAD

Traverses the whole length of the State, from the banks of the Mississippi and Lake Michigan to the Ohio. As its name imports, the Railroad runs through the centre of the State, and on either side of the road along its whole length lie the lands offered for sale.

CITIES, TOWNS, MARKETS, DEPOTS.

There are Ninety-eight Depots on the Company's Railway, giving about one every seven miles. Cities, Towns and Villages are situated at convenient distances throughout the whole route, where every desirable commodity may be found as readily as in the oldest cities of the Union, and where buyers are to be met for all kinds of farm produce.

EDUCATION.

Mechanics and working-men will find the free school system encouraged by the State, and endowed with a large revenue for the support of the schools. Children can live in sight of the school, the college, the church, and grow up with the prosperity of the leading State in the Great Western Empire.

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PRICES AND TERMS OF PAYMENT--ON LONG CREDIT.

80 acres at $10 per acre, with interest at 6 per ct. annually on the following terms:

Cash payment $48 00

Payment in one year 48 00 " in two years 48 00 " in three years 48 00 " in four years 236 00 " in five years 224 00 " in six years 212 00

40 acres, at $10 00 per acre:

Cash payment $24 00

Payment in one year 24 00 " in two years 24 00 " in three years 24 00 " in four years 118 00 " in five years 112 00 " in six years 106 00