Lord L'Estrange threw himself on a sofa, and leaned his cheek on his
hand thoughtfully. Audley Egerton sat near him, with his arms folded,
and gazed on his friend's face with a soft expression of aspect, which
was very unusual to the firm outline of his handsome features. The two
men were as dissimilar in person as the reader will have divined that
they were in character. All about Egerton was so rigid, all about
L'Estrange so easy. In every posture of Harley's there was the
unconscious grace of a child. The very fashion of his garments showed
his abhorrence of restraint. His clothes were wide and loose; his
neckcloth, tied carelessly, left his throat half bare. You could see
that he had lived much in warm and southern lands, and contracted a
contempt for conventionalities; there was as little in his dress as in
his talk of the formal precision of the north. He was three or four
years younger then Audley, but he looked at least twelve years
younger. In fact, he was one of those men to whom old age seems
impossible--voice, look, figure, had all the charm of youth; and,
perhaps it was from this gracious youthfulness--at all events, it was
characteristic of the kind of love he inspired--that neither his
parents, nor the few friends admitted into his intimacy, ever called
him, in their habitual intercourse, by the name of his title. He was not
L'Estrange with them, he was Harley; and by that familiar baptismal I
will usually designate him. He was not one of those men whom author or
reader wish to view at a distance, and remember as "my Lord"--it was so
rarely that he remembered it himself. For the rest, it had been said of
him by a shrewd wit--"He is so natural that every one calls him
affected." Harley L'Estrange was not so critically handsome as Audley
Egerton; to a commonplace observer he was, at best, rather good-looking
than otherwise. But women said that he had "a beautiful countenance,"
and they were not wrong. He wore his hair, which was of a fair chestnut,
long, and in loose curls; and instead of the Englishman's whiskers,
indulged in the foreigner's mustache. His complexion was delicate,
though not effeminate; it was rather the delicacy of a student, than of
a woman. But in his clear gray eye there was wonderful vigor of life. A
skillful physiologist, looking only into that eye, would have recognized
rare stamina of constitution--a nature so rich that, while easily
disturbed, it would require all the effects of time, or all the fell
combinations of passion and grief, to exhaust it. Even now, though so
thoughtful, and even so sad, the rays of that eye were as concentred and
steadfast as the light of the diamond.
"You were only, then, in jest," said Audley, after a long silence, "when
you spoke of this mission to Florence. You have still no idea of
entering into public life."
"None."
"I had hoped better things when I got your promise to pass one season in
London. But, indeed, you have kept your promise to the ear to break it
to the spirit. I could not presuppose that you would shun all society,
and be as much of a hermit here as under the vines of Como."
"I have sate in the Strangers' Gallery, and heard your great speakers; I
have been in the pit of the Opera, and seen your fine ladies; I have
walked your streets, I have lounged in your parks, and I say that I
can't fall in love with a faded dowager, because she fills up her
wrinkless with rouge."
"Of what dowager do you speak?" asked the matter-of-fact Audley.
"She has a great many titles. Some people call her fashion, you busy
men, politics: it is all one--tricked out and artificial. I mean London
life. No, I can't fall in love with her, fawning old harridan!"
"I wish you could fall in love with something."
"I wish I could, with all my heart."
"But you are so _blase_."
"On the contrary, I am so fresh. Look out of the window--what do you
see?"
"Nothing!"
"Nothing--"
"Nothing but houses and dusty lilacs, my coachman dozing on his box, and
two women in pattens crossing the kennel."
"I see none of that where I lie on the sofa. I see but the stars. And I
feel for them as I did when I was a schoolboy at Eton. It is you who are
_blase_, not I--enough of this. You do not forget my commission, with
respect to the exile who has married into your brother's family?"
"No; but here you set me a task more difficult than that of saddling
your cornet on the War Office."
"I know it is difficult, for the counter influence is vigilant and
strong; but on the other hand, the enemy is so damnable a traitor that
one must have the Fates and the household gods on one's side."
"Nevertheless," said the practical Audley, bending over a book on the
table, "I think that the best plan would be to attempt a compromise with
the traitor."
"To judge of others by myself," answered Harley with spirit, "it were
less bitter to put up with wrong than to palter with it for
compensation. And such wrong! Compromise with the open foe--that may be
done with honor; but with the perjured friend--that were to forgive the
perjury!"
"You are too vindictive," said Egerton; "there may be excuses for the
friend, which palliate even--"
"Hush! Audley, hush! or I shall think the world has indeed corrupted
you. Excuse for the friend who deceives, who betrays! No, such is the
true outlaw of Humanity; and the Furies surround him even while he
sleeps in the temple."
The man of the world lifted his eye slowly on the animated face of one
still natural enough for the passions. He then once more returned to his
book, and said, after a pause, "It is time you should marry, Harley."
"No," answered L'Estrange, with a smile at this sudden turn in the
conversation--"not time yet; for my chief objection to that change in
life is, that all the women nowadays are too old for me, or I am too
young for them; a few, indeed, are so infantine that one is ashamed to
be their toy; but most are so knowing that one is a fool to be their
dupe. The first, if they condescend to love you, love you as the biggest
doll they have yet dandled, and for a doll's good qualities--your pretty
blue eyes, and your exquisite millinery. The last, if they prudently
accept you, do so on algebraical principles; you are but the X or the Y
that represents a certain aggregate of goods matrimonial--pedigree,
title, rent-roll, diamonds, pin-money, opera-box. They cast you up with
the help of mamma, and you wake some morning to find that _plus_ wife
_minus_ affection equals--the Devil!"
"Nonsense," said Audley, with his quiet grave laugh. "I grant that it is
often the misfortune of a man in your station to be married rather for
what he has, than for what he is; but you are tolerably penetrating, and
not likely to be deceived in the character of the woman you court."
"Of the woman I _court_?--No! But of the woman I _marry_, very likely
indeed. Woman is a changeable thing, as our Virgil informed us at
school; but her change _par excellence_ is from the fairy you woo to the
brownie you wed. It is not that she has been a hypocrite, it is that she
is a transmigration. You marry a girl for her accomplishments. She
paints charmingly, or plays like St. Cecilia. Clap a ring on her finger,
and she never draws again--except perhaps your caricature on the back of
a letter, and never opens a piano after the honeymoon. You marry her for
her sweet temper; and next year, her nerves are so shattered that you
can't contradict her but you are whirled into a storm of hysterics. You
marry her because she declares she hates balls and likes quiet; and ten
to one but what she becomes a patroness at Almacks, or a lady in
waiting."
"Yet most men marry, and most men survive the operation."
"If it were only necessary to live, that would be a consolatory and
encouraging reflection. But to live with peace, to live with dignity, to
live with freedom, to live in harmony with your thoughts, your habits,
your aspirations--and this in the perpetual companionship of a person to
whom you have given the power to wound your peace, to assail your
dignity, to cripple your freedom, to jar on each thought and each habit,
and bring you down to the meanest details of earth, when you invite her,
poor soul, to soar to the spheres--that makes the to be, or not to be,
which is the question."
"If I were you, Harley, I would do as I have heard the author of
_Sandford and Merton_ did--choose out a child and educate her yourself
after your own heart."
"You have hit it," answered Harley, seriously. "That has long been my
idea--a very vague one, I confess. But I fear I shall be an old man
before I find even the child."
"Ah," he continued, yet more earnestly, while the whole character of his
varying countenance changed again--"ah! if indeed I could discover what
I seek--one who with the heart of a child has the mind of a woman; one
who beholds in nature the variety, the charm, the never feverish, ever
healthful excitement that others vainly seek in the bastard
sentimentalities of a life false with artificial forms; one who can
comprehend, as by intuition, the rich poetry with which creation is
clothed--poetry so clear to the child when enraptured with the flower,
or when wondering at the star! If on me such exquisite companionship
were bestowed--why, then"--he paused, sighed deeply, and, covering his
face with his hand, resumed in faltering accents,
"But once--but once only, did such visions of the Beautiful made human
rise before me--amidst 'golden exhalations of the dawn.' It beggared my
life in vanishing. You know only--you only--how--how--"
He bowed his head, and the tears forced themselves through his clenched
fingers.
"So long ago!" said Audley, sharing his friend's emotion. "Years so long
and so weary, yet still thus tenacious of a mere boyish memory."
"Away with it, then!" cried Harley, springing to his feet, and with a
laugh of strange merriment. "Your carriage still waits; set me home
before you go to the House."
Then laying his hand lightly on his friend's shoulder, he said, "Is it
for you, Audley Egerton, to speak sneeringly of boyish memories? What
else is it that binds us together? What else warms my heart when I meet
you? What else draws your thoughts from blue-books and beer-bills, to
waste them on a vagrant like me? Shake hands. Oh, friend of my boyhood!
recollect the oars that we plied and the bats that we wielded in the old
time, or the murmured talk on the moss-grown bank, as we sate together,
building in the summer air castles mightier than Windsor. Ah! they are
strong ties, those boyish memories, believe me! I remember as if it were
yesterday my translation of that lovely passage in Persius,
beginning--let me see--ah!--
"Quum primum pavido custos mihi purpura cessit,"
that passage on friendship which gushes out so livingly from the stern
heart of the satirist. And when old ---- complimented me on my verses,
my eye sought yours. Verily, I now say as then,
"Nescio quod, certe est quod me tibi temperet astrum."[16]
Audley turned away his head as he returned the grasp of his friend's
hand; and while Harley, with his light elastic footstep, descended the
stairs, Egerton lingered behind, and there was no trace of the worldly
man upon his countenance when he took his place in the carriage by his
companion's side.
Two hours afterward, weary cries of "Question, question!" "Divide,
divide!" sank into reluctant silence as Audley Egerton rose to conclude
the debate--the man of men to speak late at night, and to impatient
benches: a man who would be heard; whom a Bedlam broke loose would not
have roared down; with a voice clear and sound as a bell, and a form as
firmly set on the ground as a church-tower. And while, on the dullest of
dull questions, Audley Egerton thus, not too lively himself, enforced
attention, where was Harley L'Estrange? Standing alone by the river at
Richmond, and murmuring low fantastic thoughts as he gazed on the
moonlit tide.
When Audley left him at home, he had joined his parents, made them gay
with his careless gayety, seen the old-fashioned folks retire to rest,
and then--while they, perhaps, deemed him once more the hero of
ball-rooms and the cynosure of clubs--he drove slowly through the soft
summer night, amidst the perfumes of many a garden and many a gleaming
chestnut grove, with no other aim before him than to reach the loveliest
margin of England's loveliest river, at the hour the moon was fullest
and the song of the nightingale most sweet. And so eccentric a humorist
was this man, that I believe, as be there loitered--no one near to cry
"How affected!" or "How romantic!"--he enjoyed himself more than if he
had been exchanging the politest "how-d'ye-do's" in the hottest of
London drawing-rooms, or betting his hundreds on the odd trick with Lord
De R---- for his partner.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
FOOTNOTES:
[15] Continued from the May Number.
[16] "What was the star I know not, but certainly some star it was that
attuned me unto thee."
MARY KINGSFORD.
RECOLLECTIONS OF A POLICE-OFFICER.
Toward the close of the year 1836, I was hurriedly dispatched to
Liverpool for the purpose of securing the person of one Charles James
Marshall, a collecting clerk, who, it was suddenly discovered, had
absconded with a considerable sum of money belonging to his employers. I
was too late--Charles James Marshall having sailed in one of the
American liners the day before my arrival in the northern commercial
capital. This fact well ascertained, I immediately set out on my return
to London. Winter had come upon us unusually early; the weather was
bitterly cold; and a piercing wind caused the snow, which had been
falling heavily for several hours, to gyrate in fierce, blinding eddies,
and heaped it up here and there into large and dangerous drifts. The
obstruction offered by the rapidly-congealing snow greatly delayed our
progress between Liverpool and Birmingham; and at a few miles only
distant from the latter city, the leading engine ran off the line.
Fortunately, the rate at which we were traveling was a very slow one,
and no accident of moment occurred. Having no luggage to care for, I
walked on to Birmingham, where I found the parliamentary train just on
the point of starting, and with some hesitation, on account of the
severity of the weather, I took my seat in one of the then very much
exposed and uncomfortable carriages. We traveled steadily and safely,
though slowly along, and reached Rugby Station in the afternoon, where
we were to remain, the guard told us, till a fast down-train had passed.
All of us hurried as quickly as we could to the large room at this
station, where blazing fires and other appliances soon thawed the
half-frozen bodies, and loosened the tongues of the numerous and motley
passengers. After recovering the use of my benumbed limbs and faculties,
I had leisure to look around and survey the miscellaneous assemblage
about me.
Two persons had traveled in the same compartment with me from
Birmingham, whose exterior, as disclosed by the dim light of the railway
carriage, created some surprise that such finely-attired, fashionable
gentlemen should stoop to journey by the plebeian penny-a-mile train. I
could now observe them in a clearer light, and surprise at their
apparent condescension vanished at once. To an eye less experienced than
mine in the artifices and expedients familiar to a certain class of
"swells," they might perhaps have passed muster for what they assumed to
be, especially amidst the varied crowd of a "parliamentary;" but their
copper finery could not for a moment impose upon me. The watch-chains
were, I saw, mosaic; the watches, so frequently displayed, gilt;
eye-glasses the same; the coats, fur-collared and cuffed, were
ill-fitting and second-hand; ditto of the varnished boots and renovated
velvet waistcoats; while the luxuriant mustaches and whiskers, and
flowing wigs, were unmistakably mere _pieces d'occasion_--assumed and
diversified at pleasure. They were both apparently about fifty years of
age; one of them perhaps one or two years less than that. I watched them
narrowly, the more so from their making themselves ostentatiously
attentive to a young woman--girl rather she seemed--of a remarkably
graceful figure, but whose face I had not yet obtained a glimpse of.
They made boisterous way for her to the fire, and were profuse and noisy
in their offers of refreshment--all of which, I observed, were
peremptorily declined. She was dressed in deep, unexpensive mourning;
and from her timid gestures and averted head, whenever either of the
fellows addressed her, was, it was evident, terrified as well as annoyed
by their rude and insolent notice. I quietly drew near to the side of
the fire-place at which she stood, and with some difficulty obtained a
sight of her features. I was struck with extreme surprise--not so much
at her singular beauty, as from an instantaneous conviction that she was
known to me, or at least that I had seen her frequently before, but
where or when I could not at all call to mind. Again I looked, and my
first impression was confirmed. At this moment the elder of the two men
I have partially described placed his hand, with a rude familiarity,
upon the girl's shoulder, proffering at the same time a glass of hot
brandy-and-water for her acceptance. She turned sharply and indignantly
away from the fellow; and looking round as if for protection, caught my
eagerly-fixed gaze.
"Mr. Waters!" she impulsively ejaculated. "Oh, I am so glad!"
"Yes," I answered, "that is certainly my name; but I scarcely
remember--Stand back, fellow!" I angrily continued, as her tormentor,
emboldened by the spirits he had drunk, pressed with a jeering grin upon
his face, toward her, still tendering the brandy and water. "Stand
back!" He replied by a curse and a threat. The next moment his flowing
wig was whirling across the room, and he standing with his bullet-head
bare but for a few locks of iron-gray, in an attitude of speechless rage
and confusion, increased by the peals of laughter which greeted his
ludicrous, unwigged aspect. He quickly put himself in a fighting
attitude, and, backed by his companion, challenged me to battle. This
was quite out of the question; and I was somewhat at a loss how to
proceed, when the bell announcing the instant departure of the train
rang out, my furious antagonist gathered up and adjusted his wig, and
we all sallied forth to take our places--the young woman holding fast by
my arm, and in a low, nervous voice, begging me not to leave her. I
watched the two fellows take their seats, and then led her to the
hind-most carriage, which we had to ourselves as far as the next
station.
"Are Mrs. Waters and Emily quite well?" said the young woman, coloring,
and lowering her eyes beneath my earnest gaze, which she seemed for a
moment to misinterpret.
"Quite--entirely so," I almost stammered. "You know us then?"
"Surely I do," she replied, reassured by my manner. "But you, it seems,"
she presently added, with a winning smile, "have quite forgotten little
Mary Kingsford."
"Mary Kingsford!" I exclaimed, almost with a shout. "Why, so it is! But
what a transformation a few years have effected!"
"Do you think so? Not _pretty_ Mary Kingsford now, then, I suppose?" she
added, with a light, pleasant laugh.
"You know what I mean, you vain puss you!" I replied, quite gleefully,
for I was overjoyed at meeting with the gentle, well remembered playmate
of my own eldest girl. We were old familiar friends--almost father and
daughter--in an instant.
Little Mary Kingsford, I should state, was, when I left Yorkshire, one
of the prettiest, most engaging children I had ever seen; and a petted
favorite not only with us, but of every other family in the
neighborhood. She was the only child of Philip and Mary Kingsford--a
humble, worthy, and much respected couple. The father was gardener to
Sir Pyott Dalzell, and her mother eked out his wages to a respectable
maintenance by keeping a cheap children's school. The change which a few
years had wrought in the beautiful child was quite sufficient to account
for my imperfect recognition of her; but the instant her name was
mentioned, I at once recognized the rare comeliness which had charmed us
all in her childhood. The soft brown eyes were the same, though now
revealing profounder depths, and emitting a more pensive expression; the
hair, though deepened in color, was still golden; her complexion, lit up
as it now was by a sweet blush, was brilliant as ever; while her
child-person had become matured and developed into womanly symmetry and
grace. The brilliancy of color vanished from her cheek as I glanced
meaningly at her mourning dress.
"Yes," she murmured, in a sad, quivering voice--"yes, father is gone! It
will be six months come next Thursday that he died! Mother is well," she
continued more cheerfully, after a pause, "in health, but poorly off;
and I--and I," she added, with a faint effort at a smile, "am going to
London to seek my fortune!"
"To seek your fortune!"
"Yes; you know my cousin, Sophy Clarke? In one of her letters, she said
she often saw you."
I nodded without speaking. I knew little of Sophia Clarke, except that
she was the somewhat gay, coquettish shopwoman of a highly respectable
confectioner in the Strand, whom I shall call by the name of Morris.
"I am to be Sophy's fellow shop-assistant," continued Mary Kingsford;
"not, of course, at first at such good wages as she gets. So lucky for
me, is it not, since I must go to service? And so kind, too, of Sophy,
to interest herself for me!"
"Well, it may be so. But surely I have heard--my wife at least has--that
you and Richard Westlake were engaged?--Excuse me, Mary, I was not aware
the subject was a painful or unpleasant one."
"Richard's father," she replied with some spirit, "has higher views for
his son. It is all off between us now," she added; "and perhaps it is
for the best that it should be so."
I could have rightly interpreted these words without the aid of the
partially-expressed sigh which followed them. The perilous position of
so attractive, so inexperienced, so guileless a young creature, amidst
the temptations and vanities of London, so painfully impressed and
preoccupied me, that I scarcely uttered another word till the
rapidly-diminishing rate of the train announced that we neared a
station, after which it was probable we should have no further
opportunity for private converse.
"Those men--those fellows at Rugby--where did you meet with them?" I
inquired.
"About thirty or forty miles below Birmingham, where they entered the
carriage in which I was seated. At Birmingham I managed to avoid them."
Little more passed between us till we reached London. Sophia Clarke
received her cousin at the Euston station, and was profuse of
felicitations and compliments upon her arrival and personal appearance.
After receiving a promise from Mary Kingsford to call and take tea with
my wife and her old playmate on the following Sunday, I handed the two
young women into a cab in waiting, and they drove off. I had not moved
away from the spot when a voice a few paces behind me, which I thought I
recognized, called out, "Quick, coachee, or you'll lose sight of them!"
As I turned quickly round, another cab drove smartly off, which I
followed at a run. I found, on reaching Lower Seymour-street, that I was
not mistaken as to the owner of the voice, nor of his purpose. The
fellow I had unwigged at Rugby thrust his body half out of the cab
window, and, pointing to the vehicle which contained the two girls,
called out to the driver "to mind and make no mistake." The man nodded
intelligence, and lashed his horse into a faster pace. Nothing that I
might do could prevent the fellows from ascertaining Mary Kingsford's
place of abode; and as that was all that, for the present at least, need
be apprehended, I desisted from pursuit, and bent my steps homeward.
Mary Kingsford kept her appointment on the Sunday, and in reply to our
questioning, said she liked her situation very well. Mr. and Mrs. Morris
were exceedingly kind to her; so was Sophia. "Her cousin," she added in
reply to a look which I could not repress, "was perhaps a little gay
and free of manner, but the best-hearted creature in the world." The
two fellows who had followed them had, I found, already twice visited
the shop; but their attentions appeared now to be exclusively directed
toward Sophia Clarke, whose vanity they not a little gratified. The
names they gave were Hartley and Simpson. So entirely guileless and
unsophisticated was the gentle country maiden, that I saw she scarcely
comprehended the hints and warnings which I threw out. At parting,
however, she made me a serious promise that she would instantly apply to
me should any difficulty or perplexity overtake her.
I often called in at the confectioner's, and was gratified to find that
Mary's modest propriety of behavior, in a somewhat difficult position,
had gained her the goodwill of her employers, who invariably spoke of
her with kindness and respect. Nevertheless, the cark and care of a
London life, with its incessant employment and late hours, soon, I
perceived, began to tell upon her health and spirits; and it was
consequently with a strong emotion of pleasure I heard from my wife that
she had seen a passage in a letter from Mary's mother, to the effect
that the elder Westlake was betraying symptoms of yielding to the angry
and passionate expostulations of his only son, relative to the enforced
breaking off of his engagement with Mary Kingsford. The blush with which
she presented the letter was, I was told, very eloquent.
One evening, on passing Morris's shop, I observed Hartley and Simpson
there. They were swallowing custards and other confectionary with much
gusto; and, from their new and costly habiliments, seemed to be in
surprisingly good case. They were smirking and smiling at the cousins
with rude confidence; and Sophia Clarke, I was grieved to see, repaid
their insulting impertinence by her most elaborate smiles and graces. I
passed on; and presently meeting with a brother-detective, who, it
struck me, might know something of the two gentlemen, I turned back with
him, and pointed them out. A glance sufficed him.
"Hartley and Simpson you say?" he remarked after we had walked away to
some distance: "those are only two of their numerous _aliases_. I can
not, however, say that I am as yet on very familiar terms with them; but
as I am especially directed to cultivate their acquaintance, there is no
doubt we shall be more intimate with each other before long. Gamblers,
blacklegs, swindlers I already know them to be; and I would take odds
they are not unfrequently something more, especially when fortune and
the bones run cross with them." "They appear to be in high feather just
now," I remarked.
"Yes: they are connected, I suspect, with the gang who cleaned out young
Garslade last week in Jermyn-street. I'd lay a trifle," added my friend,
as I turned to leave him, "that one or both of them will wear the
Queen's livery, gray turned up with yellow, before many weeks are past.
Good-by."
About a fortnight after this conversation, I and my wife paid a visit to
Astley's, for the gratification of our youngsters, who had long been
promised a sight of the equestrian marvels exhibited at that celebrated
amphitheatre. It was the latter end of February; and when we came out of
the theatre, we found the weather had changed to dark and sleety, with a
sharp, nipping wind. I had to call at Scotland-yard; my wife and
children consequently proceeded home in a cab without me; and after
assisting to quell a slight disturbance originating in a gin-palace
close by, I went on my way over Westminster Bridge. The inclement
weather had cleared the streets and thoroughfares in a surprisingly
short time; so that, excepting myself, no foot-passenger was visible on
the bridge till I had about half-crossed it, when a female figure,
closely muffled up about the head, and sobbing bitterly, passed rapidly
by on the opposite side. I turned and gazed after the retreating figure:
it was a youthful, symmetrical one; and after a few moments' hesitation,
I determined to follow at a distance, and as unobservedly as I could. On
the woman sped, without pause or hesitation, till she reached Astley's,
where I observed her stop suddenly, and toss her arms in the air with a
gesture of desperation. I quickened my steps, which she observing,
uttered a slight scream, and darted swiftly off again, moaning and
sobbing as she ran. The slight momentary glimpse I had obtained of her
features beneath the gas-lamp opposite Astley's, suggested a frightful
apprehension, and I followed at my utmost speed. She turned at the first
cross-street, and I should soon have overtaken her, but that in darting
round the corner where she disappeared, I ran full butt against a stout,
elderly gentleman, who was hurrying smartly along out of the weather.
What with the suddenness of the shock and the slipperiness of the
pavement, down we both reeled; and by the time we had regained our feet,
and growled savagely at each other, the young woman, whoever she was,
had disappeared, and more than half an hour's eager search after her
proved fruitless. At last I bethought me of hiding at one corner of
Westminster Bridge. I had watched impatiently for about twenty minutes,
when I observed the object of my pursuit stealing timidly and furtively
toward the bridge on the opposite side of the way. As she came nearly
abreast of where I stood, I darted forward; she saw, without recognizing
me, and uttering an exclamation of terror, flew down toward the river,
where a number of pieces of balk and other timber were fastened
together, forming a kind of loose raft. I followed with desperate haste,
for I saw that it was indeed Mary Kingsford, and loudly called to her by
name to stop. She did not appear to hear me, and in a few moments the
unhappy girl had gained the end of the timber-raft. One instant she
paused with clasped hands upon the brink, and in another had thrown
herself into the dark and moaning river. On reaching the spot where she
had disappeared, I could not at first see her, in consequence of the
dark mourning dress she had on. Presently I caught sight of her, still
upborne by her spread clothes, but already carried by the swift current
beyond my reach. The only chance was to crawl along a piece of round
timber which projected farther into the river and by the end of which
she must pass. This I effected with some difficulty; and laying myself
out at full length, vainly endeavored, with outstretched, straining
arms, to grasp her dress. There was nothing left for it but to plunge in
after her. I will confess that I hesitated to do so. I was encumbered
with a heavy dress, which there was no time to put off, and moreover,
like most inland men, I was but an indifferent swimmer. My indecision
quickly vanished. The wretched girl, though gradually sinking, had not
yet uttered a cry, or appeared to struggle; but when the chilling waters
reached her lips, she seemed to suddenly revive to a consciousness of
the horror of her fate: she fought wildly with the engulphing tide, and
shrieked piteously for help. Before one could count ten, I had grasped
her by the arm, and lifted her head above the surface of the river. As I
did so, I felt as if suddenly encased and weighed down by leaden
garments, so quickly had my thick clothing and high boots sucked in the
water. Vainly, thus burdened and impeded, did I endeavor to regain the
raft; the strong tide bore us outward, and I glared round, in
inexpressible dismay, for some means of extrication from the frightful
peril in which I found myself involved. Happily, right in the direction
the tide was drifting us, a large barge lay moored by a chain-cable.
Eagerly I seized and twined one arm firmly round it, and thus partially
secure, hallooed with renewed power for assistance. It soon came: a
passer-by had witnessed the flight of the girl and my pursuit, and was
already hastening with others to our assistance. A wherry was unmoored:
guided by my voice, they soon reached us; and but a brief interval
elapsed before we were safely housed in an adjoining tavern.
A change of dress, with which the landlord kindly supplied me, a blazing
fire, and a couple of glasses of hot brandy and water, soon restored
warmth and vigor to my chilled and partially-benumbed limbs; but more
than two hours elapsed before Mary, who had swallowed a good deal of
water, was in a condition to be removed. I had just sent for a cab, when
two police-officers, well known to me, entered the room with official
briskness. Mary screamed, staggered toward me, and clinging to my arm,
besought me with frantic earnestness to save her.
"What _is_ the meaning of this?" I exclaimed, addressing one of the
police-officers.
"Merely," said he, "that the young woman that's clinging so tight to you
has been committing an audacious robbery--"
"No--no--no!" broke in the terrified girl.
"Oh! of course you'll say so," continued the officer. "All I know is,
that the diamond brooch was found snugly hid away in her own box. But
come, we have been after you for the last three hours; so you had better
come along at once."
"Save me! save me!" sobbed poor Mary, as she tightened her grasp upon my
arm and looked with beseeching agony in my face.
"Be comforted," I whispered; "you shall go home with me. Calm yourself,
Miss Kingsford," I added in a louder tone: "I no more believe you have
stolen a diamond brooch than that I have." "Bless you! bless you!" she
gasped in the intervals of her convulsive sobs.
"There is some wretched misapprehension in this business, I am quite
sure," I continued; "but at all events I shall bail her--for this night
at least."
"Bail her! That is hardly regular."
"No; but you will tell the superintendent that Mary Kingsford is in my
custody, and that I answer for her appearance to-morrow."
The men hesitated, but I stood too well at head-quarters for them to do
more than hesitate; and the cab I had ordered being just then announced,
I passed with Mary out of the room as quickly as I could, for I feared
her senses were again leaving her. The air revived her somewhat, and I
lifted her into the cab, placing myself beside her. She appeared to
listen in fearful doubt whether I should be allowed to take her with me;
and it was not till the wheels had made a score of revolutions that her
fears vanished; then throwing herself upon my neck in an ecstasy of
gratitude, she burst into a flood of tears, and continued till we
reached home sobbing on my bosom like a broken-hearted child. She had, I
found, been there about ten o'clock to seek me, and being told that I
was gone to Astley's, had started off to find me there.
Mary still slept, or at least she had not risen, when I left home the
following morning to endeavor to get at the bottom of the strange
accusation preferred against her. I first saw the superintendent, who,
after hearing what I had to say, quite approved of all that I had done,
and intrusted the case entirely to my care. I next saw Mr. and Mrs.
Morris and Sophia Clarke, and then waited upon the prosecutor, a
youngish gentleman of the name of Saville, lodging in Essex Street,
Strand. One or two things I heard necessitated a visit to other officers
of police, incidentally, as I found, mixed up with the affair. By the
time all this was done, and an effectual watch had been placed upon Mr.
Augustus Saville's movements, evening had fallen, and I wended my way
homeward, both to obtain a little rest, and hear Mary Kingsford's
version of the strange story.
The result of my inquiries may be thus briefly summed up. Ten days
before, Sophia Clarke told her cousin that she had orders for
Covent-Garden Theatre; and as it was not one of their busy nights, she
thought they might obtain leave to go. Mary expressed her doubt of this,
as both Mr. and Mrs. Morris, who were strict, and somewhat fanatical
Dissenters, disapproved of play-going, especially for young women.
Nevertheless Sophia asked, informed Mary that the required permission
had been readily accorded, and off they went in high spirits; Mary
especially, who had never been to a theatre in her life before. When
there, they were joined by Hartley and Simpson, much to Mary's annoyance
and vexation, especially as she saw that her cousin expected them. She
had, in fact, accepted the orders from them. At the conclusion of the
entertainments, they all four came out together when suddenly there
arose a hustling and confusion, accompanied with loud outcries, and a
violent swaying to and fro of the crowd. The disturbance was, however,
soon quelled; and Mary and her cousin had reached the outer-door, when
two police-officers seized Hartley and his friend, and insisted upon
their going with them. A scuffle ensued; but other officers being at
hand, the two men were secured, and carried off. The cousins, terribly
frightened, called a coach, and were very glad to find themselves safe
at home again. And now it came out that Mr. and Mrs. Morris had been
told that they were going to spend the evening at _my_ house, and had no
idea they were going to the play! Vexed as Mary was at the deception,
she was too kindly-tempered to refuse to keep her cousin's secret;
especially knowing as she did that the discovery of the deceit Sophia
had practiced would in all probability be followed by her immediate
discharge. Hartley and his friend swaggered on the following afternoon
into the shop, and whispered to Sophia that their arrest by the police
had arisen from a strange mistake, for which the most ample apologies
had been offered and accepted. After this, matters went on as usual,
except that Mary perceived a growing insolence and familiarity in
Hartley's manner toward her. His language was frequently quite
unintelligible, and once he asked her plainly "if she did not mean that
he should go _shares_ in the prize she had lately found?" Upon Mary
replying that she did not comprehend him, his look became absolutely
ferocious, and he exclaimed, "Oh, that's your game, is it? But don't try
it on with me, my good girl, I advise you!" So violent did he become,
that Mr. Morris was attracted by the noise, and ultimately bundled him,
neck and heels, out of the shop. She had not seen either him or his
companion since.
On the evening of the previous day, a gentleman whom she never
remembered to have seen before, entered the shop, took a seat, and
helped himself to a tart. She observed that after awhile he looked at
her very earnestly, and, at length, approaching quite close, said, "You
were at Covent-Garden Theatre last Tuesday evening week." Mary was
struck, as she said, all of a heap, for both Mr. and Mrs. Morris were in
the shop, and heard the question.
"Oh, no, no! you mistake," she said, hurriedly, and feeling at the same
time her cheeks kindle into flame.
"Nay, but you were, though," rejoined the gentleman. And then, lowering
his voice to a whisper, he said, "And let me advise you, if you would
avoid exposure and condign punishment, to restore me the diamond brooch
you robbed me of on that evening."
Mary screamed with terror, and a regular scene ensued. She was obliged
to confess she had told a falsehood in denying she was at the theatre on
the night in question, and Mr. Morris after that seemed inclined to
believe any thing of her. The gentleman persisted in his charge; but at
the same time vehemently iterating his assurance that all he wanted was
his property; and it was ultimately decided that Mary's boxes, as well
as her person, should be searched. This was done; and, to her utter
consternation, the brooch was found concealed, they said, in a
black-silk reticule. Denials, asseverations, were vain. Mr. Saville
identified the brooch, but once more offered to be content with its
restoration. This Mr. Morris, a just, stern man, would not consent to,
and he went out to summon a police-officer. Before he returned, Mary, by
the advice of both her cousin and Mrs. Morris, had fled the house, and
hurried, in a state of distraction, to find me, with what result the
reader already knows.
"It is a wretched business," I observed to my wife, as soon as Mary
Kingsford had retired to rest, at about nine o'clock in the evening.
"Like you, I have no doubt of the poor girl's perfect innocence; but how
to establish it by satisfactory evidence is another matter. I must take
her to Bow-street the day after to-morrow."
"Good God, how dreadful! Can nothing be done? What does the prosecutor
say the brooch is worth?"
"His uncle," he says, "gave a hundred and twenty guineas for it. But
that signifies little; for were its worth only a hundred and twenty
farthings, compromise is out of the question."
"I did not mean that. Can you show it me? I am a pretty good judge of
the value of jewels."
"Yes, you can see it." I took it out of the desk in which I had locked
it up, and placed it before her. It was a splendid emerald, encircled by
large brilliants.
My wife twisted and turned it about, holding it in all sorts of lights,
and at last said--"I do not believe that either the emerald or the
brilliants are real--that the brooch is, in fact, worth twenty shillings
intrinsically."
"Do you say so?" I exclaimed as I jumped up from my chair, for my wife's
words gave color and consistence to a dim and faint suspicion which had
crossed my mind. "Then this Saville is a manifest liar; and perhaps
confederate with--But give me my hat; I will ascertain this point at
once."
I hurried to a jeweler's shop, and found that my wife's opinion was
correct; apart from the workmanship, which was very fine, the brooch was
valueless. Conjectures, suspicions, hopes, fears, chased each other with
bewildering rapidity through my brain; and in order to collect and
arrange my thoughts, I stepped out of the whirl of the streets into
Dolly's Chop-house, and decided, over a quiet glass of negus, upon my
plan of operations.
The next morning there appeared at the top of the second column of the
'Times' an earnest appeal, worded with careful obscurity, so that only
the person to whom it was addressed should easily understand it, to the
individual who had lost or been robbed of a false stone and brilliants
at the theatre, to communicate with a certain person--whose address I
gave--without delay, in order to save the reputation, perhaps the life,
of an innocent person.
I was at the address I had given by nine o'clock. Several hours passed
without bringing any one, and I was beginning to despair, when a
gentleman of the name of Bagshawe was announced: I fairly leaped for
joy, for this was beyond my hopes.
A gentleman presently entered, of about thirty years of age, of a
distinguished, though somewhat dissipated aspect.
"This brooch is yours?" said I, exhibiting it without delay or preface.
"It is; and I am here to know what your singular advertisement means?"
I briefly explained the situation of affairs.
"The rascals!" he broke in almost before I had finished; "I will briefly
explain it all. A fellow of the name of Hartley, at least that was the
name he gave, robbed me, I was pretty sure, of this brooch. I pointed
him out to the police, and he was taken into custody; but nothing being
found upon him, he was discharged."
"Not entirely, Mr. Bagshawe, on that account. You refused, when arrived
at the station-house, to state what you had been robbed of; and you,
moreover, said, in presence of the culprit, that you were to embark with
your regiment for India the next day. That regiment, I have ascertained,
did embark, as you said it would."
"True; but I had leave of absence, and shall take the Overland route.
The truth is, that during the walk to the station-house, I had leisure
to reflect that if I made a formal charge, it would lead to awkward
disclosures. This brooch is an imitation of one presented to me by a
valued relative. Losses at play--since, for this unfortunate young
woman's sake, I _must_ out with it--obliged me to part with the
original; and I wore this, in order to conceal the fact from my
relative's knowledge."
"This will, sir," I replied, "prove, with a little management, quite
sufficient for all purposes. You have no objection to accompany me to
the superintendent?"
"Not in the least: only I wish the devil had the brooch as well as the
fellow that stole it."
About half-past five o'clock on the same evening, the street door was
quietly opened by the landlord of the house in which Mr. Saville lodged,
and I walked into the front-room on the first floor, where I found the
gentleman I sought languidly reclining on a sofa. He gathered himself
smartly up at my appearance, and looked keenly in my face. He did not
appear to like what he read there.
"I did not expect to see you to-day," he said at last.
"No, perhaps not: but I have news for you. Mr. Bagshawe, the owner of
the hundred-and-twenty guinea brooch your deceased uncle gave you, did
_not_ sail for India, and--"
The wretched cur, before I could conclude, was on his knees begging for
mercy with disgusting abjectness. I could have spurned the scoundrel
where he crawled.
"Come, sir!" I cried, "let us have no sniveling or humbug: mercy is not
in my power, as you ought to know. Strive to deserve it. We want Hartley
and Simpson, and can not find them: you must aid us."
"Oh, yes; to be sure I will!" eagerly rejoined the rascal. "I will go
for them at once," he added, with a kind of hesitating assurance.
"Nonsense! _Send_ for them, you mean. Do so, and I will wait their
arrival."
His note was dispatched by a sure hand; and meanwhile I arranged the
details of the expected meeting. I, and a friend, whom I momently
expected, would ensconce ourselves behind a large screen in the room,
while Mr. Augustus Saville would run playfully over the charming plot
with his two friends, so that we might be able to fully appreciate its
merits. Mr. Saville agreed. I rang the bell, an officer appeared, and we
took our posts in readiness. We had scarcely done so, when the
street-bell rang, and Saville announced the arrival of his confederates.
There was a twinkle in the fellow's green eyes which I thought I
understood. "Do not try that on, Mr. Augustus Saville," I quietly
remarked; "we are but two here certainly, but there are half-a-dozen in
waiting below."
No more was said, and in another minute the friends met. It was a
boisterously-jolly meeting, as far as shaking hands and mutual
felicitations on each other's good looks and health went. Saville was, I
thought, the most obstreperously gay of all three.
"And yet now I look at you, Saville, closely," said Hartley, "you don't
look quite the thing. Have you seen a ghost?"
"No; but this cursed brooch affair worries me."
"Nonsense!--humbug!--it's all right; we are all embarked in the same
boat. It's a regular three handed game. I prigged it; Simmy here whipped
it into pretty Mary's reticule, which she, I suppose, never looked into
till the row came; and _you_ claimed it--a regular merry-go-round, ain't
it, eh? Ha! ha! ha!--ha!"
"Quite so, Mr. Hartley," said I, suddenly facing him, and at the same
time stamping on the floor; "as you say, a delightful merry-go-round;
and here, you perceive," I added, as the officers entered the room, "are
more gentlemen to join in it."
I must not stain the paper with the curses, imprecations, blasphemies,
which for a brief space resounded through the apartment. The rascals
were safely and separately locked up a quarter of an hour afterward; and
before a month had passed away, all three were transported. It is
scarcely necessary to remark, that they believed the brooch to be
genuine, and of great value.
Mary Kingsford did not need to return to her employ. Westlake the elder
withdrew his veto upon his son's choice, and the wedding was celebrated
in the following May with great rejoicing; Mary's old playmate
officiating as bride-maid, and I as bride's-father. The still young
couple have now a rather numerous family, and a home blessed with
affection, peace, and competence. It was some time, however, before Mary
recovered from the shock of her London adventure; and I am pretty sure
that the disagreeable reminiscences inseparably connected in her mind
with the metropolis will prevent at least _one_ person from being
present at the World's Great Fair.--_Chambers's Journal._
Monthly Record of Current Events.
POLITICAL AND GENERAL NEWS.
UNITED STATES.
Reports of the same general tendency, although somewhat vague and
contradictory in details, indicate that plans are on foot to organize
another expedition for a descent upon Cuba. New Orleans, Savannah, and
various places on the coast of Florida, would appear to be the centres
to which the parties tend. It is supposed that funds to a large amount
have been furnished from Cuba. The design seems to be to proceed in
separate parties to some point beyond the jurisdiction of the United
States before effecting any formal organization. The President, under
date of April 25, issued his proclamation, attributing the project
mainly to foreigners, "who have dared to make our shores the scenes of
guilty and hostile preparations against a friendly power." These
expeditions, he says, can only be regarded as adventures for plunder and
robbery, undertaken in violation alike of the law of nations and of this
country; by the latter of which they are punishable by fine and
imprisonment. He warns all citizens of the United States who connect
themselves with such expeditions, that they thereby "forfeit all claims
to the protection of this Government, or any interference on their
behalf, no matter to what extremities they may be reduced in consequence
of their illegal conduct;" and calls upon every civil and military
officer of the Government to use his efforts for the arrest of all who
thus offend against the laws of their country.
In New York, information was given to the United States Marshal that a
vessel had been chartered by persons concerned in the proposed
expedition, and was anchored in the Bay, provided with munitions of war,
and waiting for the arrival of a large number of men. On searching the
harbor, no vessel answering this description was found, but a steamboat
lying at a pier on the North River fell under suspicion, and was seized
by the United States authorities. This was the Cleopatra, a large boat,
formerly employed on Long Island Sound, and now in such a decayed
condition as to be nearly unfit for service, having been built upward of
fourteen years. Nothing was found on board to indicate the purpose for
which she was destined. The forward hold and boiler room were filled
with coal, of which a large quantity also covered the forward deck. She
had on board a great number of empty water casks, but no firearms or
gunpowder were discovered. She was placed in charge of a guard of
marines from the Navy Yard, and no communication was permitted with
persons on shore. The final disposition of the steamer has not yet been
determined, but orders have been given by the Government to deliver her
cargo to any claimant who could show evidence of proprietorship.
Soon after the seizure of the Cleopatra, the collector of this port
received notice that a vessel engaged for the transportation of
emigrants from South Amboy to Sandy Hook, was lying at her wharf, in the
former place, under suspicious circumstances. Officers were immediately
dispatched to the spot; the vessel was seized and ordered to anchor at
Perth Amboy; and intelligence was obtained which resulted in the arrest
of five persons, who were held to bail in the sum of $3000 each to
appear for examination. These were John L. O'Sullivan, formerly editor
of the _Democratic Review_, Captain Lewis, formerly of the steamer
Creole, Pedro Sanches, a Spanish resident of New York, Dr. D.H. Burnett,
and Major Louis Schlesinger of the Hungarian patriots. The offense with
which they were charged was the violation of the Neutrality Act of April
20, 1818, in preparing the means for a military expedition against Cuba.
In consequence of various rumors which prevailed in the City of
Savannah, concerning the invasion of Cuba, the United States Marshal
chartered a steamboat for an exploring trip to the South. He proceeded
as far as Jacksonville, Florida, and returned after a cruise of three or
four days. Throughout the whole line of his route, he was met with
accounts of encampments of armed men, but they proved to be without
foundation, and no discoveries, pointing to any overt acts, were made.
It was the general belief, among all with whom he conversed, that a
movement of importance had been projected against the island of Cuba,
but that from causes which have not transpired, the organization had
been broken up, and the men connected with it had entirely dispersed.
Between Savannah and Jacksonville, public opinion was found to be
decidedly favorable to the expedition, the great majority of the people
sympathizing with the Cubans, and ready to aid them in a struggle for
independence.
The session of the Legislature of New York came to a sudden and
unexpected close on the 17th of April, two days after the conclusion of
our last Monthly Record. It being apparent that the bill for the
enlargement of the Erie Canal, which had already passed the House by a
large majority, would likewise pass the Senate, twelve of the fifteen
Democratic Senators resigned their seats. One other Senator announced
his intention to resign if the proposed measure were pressed; in which
case there would be only nineteen members remaining; the Constitution
requiring three-fifths of the whole, or twenty Senators, to form a
quorum. When the bill came up for a third reading, there were 17 votes
in its favor, and 2 against it. No quorum being present, the bill was
laid upon the table. The Senate thereupon voted to adjourn _sine die_;
in which resolution the House concurred. On the same day the Democratic
members of the Legislature, comprising fifteen Senators and forty
Representatives, issued an address to the Democratic Republican Electors
of the State, in justification of their procedure. They bring severe
charges against their opponents of mal-administration of the financial
affairs of the State; and denounce the proposed measure as a palpable
violation of the express provisions of the Constitution, and as an
expedient to secure to their opponents the political supremacy in the
State. The Whig members also issued a long address to the People of the
State of New York, in which they denounce the conduct of the resigning
Senators as a willful violation of the Constitution which they had sworn
to support and as an outrage upon the fundamental principle of a
republican government--the right of the majority to rule. They defend
the course of adjournment adopted by the majority, on the ground that
two-fifths of the State was unrepresented in the Senate; that for
various important purposes for which the assent of two-thirds of the
members elected is requisite, there was virtually no Senate at all; that
it was in the power of a single member of that body, by a threat of
resignation, to dictate upon any legislative question; and that one
member had threatened, unless the order of business fixed by the Senate
should be laid aside, that he would vacate his seat, and thus render any
legislation impossible. They proceed to argue at great length the
constitutionality and expediency of the bill. The Governor has issued
his proclamation, convoking an extra session of the Legislature on the
10th June, and appointing an election to be held on the 27th of May, to
fill the vacancies occasioned by the resignations of the Senators.
Contrary opinions as to the constitutionality of the bill in question
have been furnished by the ablest counsel. Among others Mr. CHATFIELD,
the Attorney General of the State, pronounces it to be unconstitutional;
while Mr. WEBSTER argues in favor of the opposite opinion.
The steamer Pacific, which sailed from Liverpool April 10, accomplished
the passage to New York in 9 days and 20 hours, being the shortest
westerly passage ever made. The greatest distance run in a single day
was 328, the least 302 miles. The shortest westerly passage previously
made was by the same vessel, which was 10 days 4 hours. The shortest
similar passage by a Cunarder was by the Asia, 10 days and 22 hours.
The number of passengers from foreign countries who arrived at the port
of New York within the four months ending May 1, was above 60,000, being
an increase of more than 30,000 over the arrivals of last year. During
the month of April the arrivals were 27,779, of which 15,968 were from
Ireland, 6372 from Germany, and 2679 from England.
The anniversaries of the principal religious and benevolent societies
were celebrated as usual in New York in the early part of May. The
occasion drew together a large attendance of persons from every section
of the country. _The Seaman's Friend's Society_ maintains chaplains in
the Sandwich Islands, South America, California, the West Indies,
France, and Sweden. At the Sailor's Home in New York, there have been,
during the year, 2525 sailor boarders. A single bank has upon deposit,
bearing interest, more than a million of dollars belonging to seamen.
The receipts of the Society for the year were $20,399 21; the
expenditures $20,446 27.--_The American and Foreign Christian Union_ has
for its object opposition to Romanism, by acting upon both Catholics and
Protestants at home and abroad. It has during the past year employed at
home, for greater or less portions of time, 78 missionaries, of whom the
greater number are foreigners, preaching in seven different languages,
and belonging to almost all the branches of the Protestant Church. It
also employs 30 missionaries in foreign countries. The Society received
during the year $56,265 20, and expended $55,169 12.--_The American
Tract Society_ has issued during the year 886,692 volumes, 7,837,692
publications; of its Almanacs have been circulated 310,000 copies; of
the _American Messenger_ 186,000, and of the _German Messenger_ 18,000
copies are published monthly. It has employed 569 colporteurs, of whom
135 are students in colleges and seminaries. The receipts of the
Society exceed those of any other kindred institution in the country.
For the past year they were $310,728 32, of which $200,720 33 were the
proceeds of the sales of publications, the remainder being donations.
The expenditures were, for publishing, $179,984 48; for colportage,
$73,278 23; donations to foreign countries, $20,000; miscellaneous
expenses, $37,356 59, in all, $310,616 30.--_The American Home
Missionary Society_ has had in its service during the year 1065
ministers, who have performed an amount of labor equal to 853 years;
these have been employed in twenty-six States and Territories: in New
England, 311; in the Middle States, 224; in the Western States and
Territories, 515; in the Southern States, 15. The resources of the
Society for the year were $166,493 94; the liabilities, $163,457
18.--_The American and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society_ presented at its
anniversary no statistics of its operations.--_The American Anti-Slavery
Society_ (known as the Garrison Society), whose meetings last year were
violently interrupted, was unable to procure a place of meeting in this
city. Its anniversary was accordingly held in Syracuse.--_The American
Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions_ have received for nine
months of the current year $186,500, being an increase above the
receipts of last year, of $17,384.--_The_ ("Old School") _Presbyterian
Board of Missions_ have sent out during the past year 25 laborers. The
operations of this Board are carried on mainly among the Indians and
Jews of our country, in Western Africa, Northern India, Siam, China, and
Catholic Europe. The Board has received and expended a trifle more than
$140,000 during the year.--_The American Bible Society_ has issued
during the year 592,432 Bibles and Testaments, making a total, since the
formation of the Society, of 7,572,967 copies. In addition to new
editions of the English Scriptures, they have issued the Testament in
Swedish and English in parallel columns, and have in preparation a
similar Testament in French and English. They have also prepared a
Spanish Bible, conformed to the Hebrew and Greek originals. A
translation executed by Rev. Mr. Payne, a missionary to Western Africa,
of the books of Genesis and Acts into the Grebo language, has been
published at the Society's house. The receipts of the Society for the
year past have been $276,882 52, which is somewhat less than those of
the preceding year, when they were swelled by unusually large amounts
given by way of legacy.--The anniversaries of those noble charities the
_Institution for the Deaf and Dumb_ and the _New York Institution for
the Blind_ were, as usual, of the utmost interest, and attracted large
and delighted audiences. In the former of these are 247 pupils, of whom
163 are supported by the State, 30 by their friends or by other States,
and 16 are maintained by the Institution. The Institution for the Blind
contains 105 pupils, of whom 52 are males and 53 females; there are
besides connected with it 39 other blind persons, in various
capacities.--The meetings of several of the minor associations presented
some interesting features. Among these we specify that of the New York
Colonization Society, at which a letter was read from Hon. EDWARD
EVERETT, describing the great benefits conferred by the colonization of
Africa, in introducing civilization, and suppressing the
slave-trade.--The total receipts of eleven of the principal religious
societies of the country for the past year were $1,237,875 17, exceeding
those of the preceding year by about $15,000.
The Erie Railroad is now completed, from the Hudson River to Dunkirk,
470 miles from New York. A train having on board the Directors of the
road, went over the whole distance on the 28th and 29th of April. At the
commencement of the enterprise, the State loaned to the road its bonds
to the amount of three millions of dollars. Subsequently, an act was
passed relieving the Company from the lien imposed by these bonds, on
condition that a single track was completed, and engines passed over it,
from the Hudson to Lake Erie, before the middle of May. On the day,
therefore, in which the first train passed over the road, the earnings
of the Company were three millions of dollars. The formal celebration of
the opening of the Road took place on the 14th of May, and was attended
by the President of the United States and a portion of the Cabinet, as
will be seen by a somewhat detailed account in another page of our
Magazine.
In Massachusetts, the Hon. CHARLES SUMNER has at length been elected to
the United States Senate, for the full term of six years. He has taken
no prominent part in politics, but is widely known as a scholar and
philanthropist.--Soon after the decision of an exciting Fugitive Slave
case in Boston, a number of citizens who had invited Mr. Webster to
address them on the political condition of the country, petitioned the
Board of Aldermen for the use of Faneuil Hall on that occasion. A
similar petition having been previously denied to the opponents of the
Fugitive Slave Law, that of the friends of Mr. Webster was not granted.
The Board subsequently reconsidered their action, and passed a vote
concurring with the Common Council in raising a joint committee to
invite an address from Mr. Webster, and tendering the use of the Hall
for the purpose. The invitation was not accepted.--A violent storm
commenced on the 15th of April, and raged for more than a week along the
whole extent of the Atlantic coast. During the night of the 17th, the
light-house on Minot's Ledge, near Cohasset, was swept away; two
assistant keepers who were in the structure were lost.--The
secret-ballot law has passed both branches of the Legislature. It
provides that the ballots of voters shall be inclosed in envelopes
previously to being deposited in the ballot boxes.
In Connecticut there was no choice by the people of State officers at
the late election. Hon. THOMAS H. SEYMOUR, the Democratic candidate, has
been re-elected as Governor by the Legislature. The Democratic
candidates for Secretary and Comptroller, and the Whig candidates for
Lieutenant-Governor and Treasurer, were elected by the Legislature. In
his Message the Governor represents the finances of the State to be in a
prosperous condition; recommends the passage of general corporation and
banking laws; and of a law limiting the hours of labor, to contain a
provision making it a misdemeanor to work children under fourteen years
of age more than eight hours a day. He speaks in favor of the Compromise
measures, which he says must be supported in good faith, or we can not
hope to see this form of Government continue. "Whatever action then," he
adds, "the Legislature may feel called upon to take, upon any of the
questions to which reference has been made, I feel at liberty to indulge
the hope that its course will be such as to place the State of
Connecticut on patriotic and dignified ground in the presence of sister
States and the nation, and the world."
A Convention of the Southern Rights Association assembled at Charleston,
May 5. There were between three and four hundred members in attendance.
Ex-Governor J.P. RICHARDSON acted as President. In his address upon
taking the chair, he said that the question was simply as to the time
and manner of resistance. He spoke strongly of the want of affinity
between the two sections of the country, and declared that no one should
join together those whom God and nature have put asunder. A letter from
Hon. LANGDON CHEVES was read, deprecating separate action on the part of
South Carolina, which ought to wait awhile longer for the action of
other States. An address and resolutions advocating the right and
expediency of secession, were adopted. Mr. RHETT, one of the United
States Senators from this State, has developed what he supposes to be
the results of the policy of secession. Free trade would be proclaimed
with all States south and west of the Potomac, and a duty of ten per
cent. levied upon goods from the other States and from foreign
countries. The result would be that goods would be twenty per cent.
cheaper in Charleston than in New York. The trade of Georgia and North
Carolina would be carried on with South Carolina; and it would not be in
the power of the General Government to prevent it, by a line of
custom-houses along the frontier. He declared the idea of a blockade of
the ports of South Carolina to be ridiculous. Blockade was war, and
Congress alone could declare war; and Congress must either let them go
peaceably out of the Union or fight; and fight they would in defense of
their rights, liberties, and institutions; and even if South Carolina
should be subdued, the Union was not preserved; other Southern States
would join in the contest. Should that State secede and remain for five
years an independent State, a Southern Confederacy must be the result,
or the South would have enforced the guarantees to which she is
entitled. "I have been battling," he says, "in this cause for
twenty-five years, and have now but a few more years to give to your
service. As a citizen of South Carolina, I demand that she make me free.
My counsel is, secede from the union of these United States. At every
hazard, and to the last extremity secede. If I was about to draw my last
breath, with that breath I would exhort you to secede."
In the Virginia Constitutional Convention some votes have been taken,
which afford indications that the mixed basis proposition in a somewhat
modified form, will prevail. The motion to strike out the proposition
apportioning representation on the basis of the white population was
carried by a vote of 65 to 56. Four Eastern men, among whom was Hon.
HENRY A. WISE, voted with the West. One of the mixed basis propositions
failed by a single vote.
From the mining region of Lake Superior, the latest intelligence is
highly favorable; large quantities of copper are preparing for
market.--The President has directed that the lands occupied by the
Hungarian Exiles in Iowa shall not be offered for sale previous to the
meeting of Congress, when a petition will be presented for the grant of
them to the exiles.--A riot occurred lately at Milwaukie upon occasion
of a lecture upon Catholicism by Mr. Leahy, who claims to have once been
a Trappist monk. More than a score of persons were seriously injured,
and considerable damage was done to the Methodist church in which the
lecture was given. The principal Catholic laity and the clergy published
a card in which they express their unqualified condemnation of the
conduct of the rioters, and engage to make good the pecuniary injury
inflicted.--The Central Railroad of Michigan has for some time been
annoyed by a gang, which has at length been brought to light. Their
detection was effected by an agent of the Railroad, who in order to
secure their confidence undertook to set fire to the depot; after,
however, taking precautions to prevent any serious injury. Nearly fifty
persons have been arrested and indicted; among whom are a judge,
justices of the peace, constables, and professional men. The trial will
come on in June.--The Legislature of Wisconsin have passed a bill for
the protection of Seventh Day Baptists. It provides that any civil
process issued against a person who habitually observes the seventh day
as a day of rest, which is made returnable on that day, may be laid over
until the Monday following, as though that were the return-day of the
writ.--The small pox is raging with fearful violence among the Sioux
Indians upon the Upper Missouri. It is also extending down the river,
among the Sacs and Foxes. Several hundred are reported to have already
died.
The Governor of Texas has issued an order for the arrest of the members
of the Boundary Commission who took part in the recent summary
executions of the desperadoes at Socorro. They are probably beyond the
jurisdiction of Texas. Severe charges are in circulation against the
officers at the head of the Commission; public opinion will, however,
remain undecided until both sides are heard.--The population of New
Mexico, according to the recent census, is 61,574, of whom 850 are
Americans. Of the Mexican population above the age of twenty, only one
in 103 is able to read.--A treaty has been concluded with the Apache
Chief Chacon, who binds himself to keep the peace, under penalty of
forfeiting his life.--An attempt is to be made to diminish the enormous
expense of the military occupation of New Mexico. Colonel Sumner, the
new commander, will take out with him seed, grains, stock, and farming
utensils, and every effort will be made to develop the agricultural
resources of the Territory. The head-quarters of the army will probably
be removed from Santa Fe to Los Vegos.
From California the most striking feature of intelligence is the
unexampled frequency of extra-judicial punishment for crime. The
newspapers are filled with accounts of summary executions, not only for
murder but for robbery and theft. Under the peculiar state of things
occasioned by the great temptations to crime, and the utter want of all
the ordinary apparatus of justice, during the earlier periods of the
settlement of California, this was unavoidable. But instances of this
sort, instead of becoming more unfrequent, seem to be rapidly
increasing. A bill has passed the Legislature, and become a law,
inflicting the punishment of death, at the discretion of the jury, upon
the crime of grand larceny. This measure was insisted upon by the mining
counties on the ground that, owing to the unexampled influx of
desperadoes and criminals from all parts of the world, thefts and
robberies had become so frequent, while prisons and places of detention
were so few, that the only possible punishment was death; and the people
had become so exasperated that the punishment would and must be
inflicted, either by or against the law. The law imposing a tax upon
foreign miners has been repealed, having been found to work most
disastrously. It drove out of the country many thousands of the most
industrious miners, especially Mexicans and Chilians, whose labors the
State could ill spare. Indian hostilities have nearly ceased. A number
of the tribes have signified a willingness to accept of fixed
localities, and to enter into a treaty. The Legislature having granted
to the Governor authority to call out 500 men to repress Indian
hostilities in the Mariposa region, he made a tour of inspection, and
came to the conclusion that the force was unnecessary. The population of
the State is estimated at 314,000, of whom about 100,000 are supposed to
be engaged in mining; and the whole amount of gold produced in the
course of last year is estimated at about one hundred millions of
dollars, giving about three and one-third dollars a day to each
individual. It is anticipated that the amount produced the ensuing year
will not fall short of one hundred and fifty millions. The recent
accounts of the lately discovered gold bluffs are encouraging, and
promise a large amount of gold from that source. A mine of quicksilver,
stated to be the richest in the world, has been discovered about twelve
miles from San Jose. In the case of a slave brought into the State by
his master, it has been decided that he can not be removed against his
will. A vessel has arrived at San Francisco having on board seventeen
Japanese, who were picked up at sea from a wreck. It is supposed that
they will be conveyed to their native country in a government vessel.
They are thought to be the first Japanese who have ever set foot upon
the American continent. A rich coal mine is stated to have been
discovered about eight miles from Benicia. The quantity of land under
cultivation has greatly increased. Professor FORREST SHEPARD, of New
Haven, has made some remarkable discoveries of thermal action. In one
place, where there was nothing on the surface to excite attention, on
digging down the heat increased so rapidly that at the depth of two feet
he could not bear his hand in the earth, and the thermometer indicated a
temperature of 130 degrees. At another place, after wandering for four
days through dense thickets, he came upon a chasm a thousand feet deep,
through which followed a stream, the banks of which, on the 8th of
February, were covered with vegetation. Following up the stream, the
earth grew so hot as to burn the feet through the boots. There was no
appearance of lava, and the rocks were being dissolved by a powerful
_catalytic_ action. From innumerable orifices steam was forced to the
height of two hundred feet. The number of spouting geysers and boiling
springs, on a half mile square, exceeded two hundred. The Professor, in
the course of a lecture on the mineral resources of California,
delivered in the Senate Chamber at San Jose, said that he did not doubt
that silver, lead, and iron abounded in California.
SOUTHERN AMERICA.
In MEXICO the finances are in a most deplorable condition. The revenue
had fallen to about eight and a half millions of dollars, while the
expenses exceed twelve millions. The indemnity paid by our government
can afford only temporary relief in the face of so alarming a
deficiency. The Minister of Finance has resigned his post, and has
prepared a memoir on the condition of the department. The Government has
made a formal complaint against that of the United States for failure in
carrying out the provisions of the treaty in relation to the suppression
of Indian depredations on the frontier; and assigns this failure as a
ground for refusing to ratify the Tehuantepec treaty. The Commissioners
of Public Works have been directed to ascertain the names, employment,
and places of nativity of foreigners residing in the city. Several
projects for a change of government are entertained. One party are
desirous of returning to the dominion of Spain; another is in favor of
annexation to the United States; the return of Santa Anna is desired by
another. The Northern States are still harassed by Indian depredations.
The hostilities in Yucatan are supposed to be nearly at an end. The
municipality of the capital have petitioned for the suppression of
bull-fights throughout the state.
Hostilities are brooding between Brazil and the Argentine Republic; but
it is hoped that war may be averted. The dissentions in the latter state
are favorable to the recognition of the claims of Brazil. Government is
endeavoring to suppress the slave-trade, and its efforts meet with some
success.