The treatment which the luckless envoys experienced on their return from Europe after a successful mission, shows how imperfectly the demands of the British minister will be complied with: we find official accounts from the Swiss embassy published in the Dagblad of the Hague, that they were degraded from rank and dismissed from office; the secretary and linguist having been a pupil and friend of the writer, he perused their political obituary with much regret. However, office holding in the far East is not only an equivocal honor, but a precarious means of subsistence, which, as the aspirants fully understand, one can somewhat economize his commiseration. Why, they are used to it in that strange country. The last mail brings intelligence of the degradation of one hundred and ten office holders of all grades, from the proud minister of state down to the humble clerk. In this list of casualties, too, a friend and pupil turns up. Dr. Itowo Gambono was a fussy fellow, something of a politician and courtier, and never mindful of professional etiquette when it stood in the way of his advancement. His Imperial Majesty the Tycoon, a dissolute youth of nineteen, with three wives, is subject, of course, to various maladies. The court physician administered a prescription so nauseous that the royal patient kicked against the whole materia medica; and great was the consternation of the court, when Dr. Itowo Gambono, who had been engineering for the office of surgeon royal, allayed apprehension by making known his qualifications, and the palatable character of his prescriptions. He was installed in office; but trusting exclusively to the vis medicatrix naturae, and having been discovered in administering nothing but sweetened water, he suffered in the general proscription. A medical jury might render the verdict: Served him right for intriguing against his confrere.

The curious reader will be gratified with learning what some of the Japanese themselves have to say on the question of the relations betwixt the foreigner and their own Government, and it is not likely that the subjoined translation of a document, purporting to be a protest addressed to the tycoon's ministers, but intended as a complaint against them to the mikado or spiritual emperor, will be found too long for perusal:

'When you consulted us about the new relations into which we were to enter with foreigners, you told us, upon the authority of a certain Harisoo (Mr. Harris) the American, that the treaty would give us plenty and abundance. Both you and Harisoo said that cotton would be sold for a mere nothing, and that silk and manufactured goods would not cost us anything. The daily necessaries of life would be brought to our country from all quarters of the globe, and our farmers would not be required to sow and reap. We anxiously expect these miracles, and at present we enjoy advantages which you never mentioned, namely, that those articles which you and Harisoo promised to give us at very low prices are now three times as expensive as they formerly were. You told us that our treasuries would be always open to receive the enormous riches which our intercourse with foreigners would always give us. It is an undeniable fact that our treasuries have been always open, but, instead of receiving money, we have been called upon to sacrifice the little we possess. You monopolize the import and export duties completely, and we had a right to suppose that those duties which, according to your statement and those of your financier Harisoo, would enrich the Japanese nation, ought to cover expenses such as building fortifications and buying men-of-war, which you say must inspire the barbarians with the respect due to our country. But what have you done for the last three years? What has been the tenor of all your despatches? Japan must be fortified, fortifications must be built, the artillery and navy increased. Money is required. If we could only see those fortifications, those men-of-war, we would complain less about expenses; but everything is proposed and nothing executed. You think that drawings and plans will scare foreigners, and cause them to flee from our country; but we doubt it, for they really equal us in this art. You sometimes talk to us about political economy; we candidly own you give us excellent advice; unfortunately we have numerous proofs that you do not follow the precepts that you give us. Why was such an incredible sum of money spent for all the vain and useless pomp which accompanied the sister of the mikado on her journey to Yedo, preparatory to her marriage with the tycoon? Why was so much money wasted in rebuilding the palace of the tycoon? We shall not mention the various ways in which the public money is wasted, as this would cause the nation to blush, and the mikado to mourn. As you always remind us of the great principles of political economy when you demand pecuniary supplies, pardon us for making the following remarks. Owing to the troubled state of the country, the presence of the daimios at Yedo was formerly very necessary. Now, this is not the case at present, and still our lords are always travelling to and from the capital. The personal fatigue, the vexation, the expense of the immense retinue which always accompanies them, can no longer be supported.

'The time has come that these ruinous journeys should cease, and the lords of Japan declare themselves unable to defray the expense which you impose upon them. As foreign trade has nearly ruined us, and as fortifications and numerous other unforeseen expenses are deemed necessary in all the parts which have been opened to barbarians, we not only demand that the new ports Osaka, Neegata, and Yedo shall not be opened, but that Kanagawa be closed. You always assert that we are opposed to friendly intercourse with foreign nations, but this is utterly false; we willingly consent to open the whole of Japan, if this step does not occasion expenses which are beyond our means. We have not murdered our servants who were favorably inclined toward the opening of Japan to foreigners. We never spread insulting libels against foreigners amongst our people. We never called Harisoo a fool, Aroako (Sir R. Alcock) a ——, and Borrookoroo (M. de Bellecourt, French consul general) a ——. We never called the consuls drunkards and foreign merchants thieves. You teach the young to despise and insult foreigners, and although you always tell us that the foreign nations are powerful and greatly to be feared, a high functionary lately said, 'With the exception of one of the nations, all the foreigners could be insulted with impunity.''

Although this document, evidently a clumsy forgery, bears traces of having been composed apparently by a native penny-a-liner for the foreign newspaper, yet it apparently expresses the opinion of a large class of rulers and people, and serves to exhibit some of the features of the varied opposition which the tycoon has to encounter.

The perils which menace the tycoon, or rather the council of state, are multiform. In the Prince of Mito, they have an aspirant to the tycoonship, by whose machinations it is believed foreigners have suffered, merely that the Government might be embarrassed. Rulers like the Prince of Kago, preferring death to compliance with the foreigners' demands; recent events admonishing the council and ministers that this penalty is likely to attend their yielding; at the same time importunity is used at the court of Miako—the spiritual emperor—to curtail or abolish the authority at Yedo; while the barbarian stands, torch in hand, ready not only to fire another palace, but with formidable fleets prepared to bombard cities!

One of the most resolute and powerful of the daimios who hold that it were better to die fighting rather than yield the points in dispute, is Shimadzu Sabara, Prince of Satzuma. It was his retainers who killed Richardson, and he will not suffer them to be delivered up for punishment, from the conviction doubtless that they committed the deed while resisting the advance of an arrogant foreigner. He seems to have the ability and the will to resist any attempt on the part of the general government to coerce him, hence the embarrassment which is occasioned by the British demand for the punishment of the assassins. He has particularly allied himself to the spiritual emperor, in whose capital he is popular; we read of him a short time since making a donation to the poor of Miako of ten thousand piculs of rice. Strictly speaking, Shimadzu Sabara is regent of Satzuma, the prince, who is his nephew, being only six years of age. Satzuma, the principality, is on the southerly extremity of the most southerly island of the Archipelago Kiusiu. Its capital, Kagosima, is a rich port, having 500,000 inhabitants; the Loo Choo Islands acknowledge the Prince of Satzuma as suzerain. Much of the prosperity of that part of Japan is due to the sagacity and enterprise of the late prince. He applied himself to the study of natural science, particularly the practical part, and established manufactories on a large scale, introducing all foreign arts that could be acquired. His glass manufactures have attained to a good degree of perfection, and the foundery for smelting and forging iron ore is on an extensive scale, employing about two thousand men. Some bronze guns made there were of a caliber for balls of 150 pounds weight. He constructed also several spacious docks. This prince paid the writer of this article the compliment of republishing his 'Treatise on the Law of Storms,' published several years ago in the Chinese language. He died in 1859, much lamented by his subjects.

Not less enterprising is the Prince of Fizen, in whose principality the well-known port of Nagasaki is situated. The foundery, with its steam hammer and other appliances, for his navy, consisting of several steamers purchased from foreigners, is a striking object in that beautiful harbor. He is in favor of intercourse with foreigners; we read of his assembling his vassals like a baron of olden time, and taking their opinions, and that of his officers, on the question of admitting foreigners, and informing his suzerain of their acquiescence. Stimulated by the example of these two princes, other nobles are desirous of acquiring power by adopting improvements from abroad. It has been stated that applications have been made for sixty steamers. A Dutch mercantile paper lately published a list of twenty steamers in course of construction for the Japanese. As American steamers have been found best adapted for the Chinese waters, we ought to construct more for our Japanese neighbors than we have yet done.

The British Government demands an indemnity for the families of the slain—L5,000 for each sentry, and L10,000 for Mr. Richardson, and the punishment of the murderers. As the validity of the treaties has been questioned, Japanese having recently in several instances taken the position that the tycoon had no authority to make them, it has been proposed that Miako should be visited and the mikado compelled to ratify it; and as the Prince of Satzuma is responsible for the latest murder, it has been proposed that Kagosima should be bombarded, and that his fief, the Loo Choo Islands, should be held as a material guarantee for the fulfilment of his (the tycoon's) and the mikados' obligations. Some British journalists have maintained that as the expense of a war, from the courage of the people and the appliances of the rulers, would be great, as the trade is of small value, and as the Japanese have right on their side in resisting the encroachments of foreigners, it is advisable, after obtaining due reparation, to withdraw from the country altogether:—a proposition little in accordance with Britain's antecedents; such a relinquishment of purpose would occasion a loss of prestige which would jeopardize her sway from Hong Kong to Bombay. The response made to the proposition to retire from the country is that it would not only be ignominious, but perilous to their interests in the far East, which are now in jeopardy from the 'encroachments of Russia, the diplomacy, not always honest and aboveboard, of America, and the ambitious policy of France.'

An ulterior object with that power is to obtain a foothold in the North Pacific, which shall connect Hong Kong with British Columbia, and events will be shaped as far as possible to secure that end. With France strongly fortified at Annam, and Russian power growing on the Amoor, the English are apprehensive that in a war with either of those countries their cargoes of silk, tea, and opium would be somewhat insecure. While England has the merit of extending free trade to her new acquisitions, she makes them, even in peace, a means of annoyance to American commerce; consequently, we cannot regard with indifference her territorial expansion in the North Pacific. When we come to devote the attention to our interests in that part of the world which they merit, our friends on the Pacific coast will discover that European Governments are in possession of all the commanding points, if, indeed, they do not find China and Japan under an Anglo-French protectorate—an end for which many are devoting their energies. In view of the fact that it is through our agency that this country has been opened, and thus exposed to its present dangers, and considering that the Japanese Government is nearly, if not wholly, blameless, as regards its foreign relations, Americans cannot but hope that in the approaching conflict, Japan will suffer neither loss of territory, power, or character.

An article, in the American treaty says:

'The President of the United States, at the request of the Japanese Government, will act as a friendly mediator in such matters of difference as arise between the Government of Japan and the European powers.'

Accordingly, application has been made to Mr. Pruyn, soliciting through him an extension of time in replying to Colonel Neal's ultimatum, which has been accorded, but as a sharp correspondence is said to have arisen between the English and American ambassadors in relation to the sale of arms by our merchants to the Japanese, Mr. Pruyn's mediation is not likely to avail much in the approaching strife. As Japan is a friendly power, to which we are allied by treaty, we feel curious to hear what arguments have been adduced by the English to show that we ought not to deal in material of war with that country.

The position of Americans in Japan, as regards diplomacy, commerce, and Christian missions, with other matters of general interest, omitted for want of space, will form subjects of another article in the series which is proposed for publication in THE CONTINENTAL on Eastern Asiatic questions.



WAS HE SUCCESSFUL?

'Do but grasp into the thick of human life! Every one lives it—to not many is it known; and seize it where you will, it is interesting.'—GOETHE.

'SUCCESSFUL.—Terminating in accomplishing what is wished or intended.'—WEBSTER'S Dictionary.

CHAPTER VII.

What should she say to her?

She had decided in the brief period of reflection before entering the room.

Amputation, sudden and quick—then treatment, as a surgeon would express it.

'Emma, it is all over with us. Mr. Meeker has been here and has broken off his engagement with you. The reason is, because your father has lost his property. I shall never regret our misfortunes, since it has saved you from becoming the wife of a selfish, heartless wretch.'

Emma did not faint, or scream, or burst into tears; but she turned very pale indeed, and sat without speaking, as if expecting her mother to say something more.

Mrs. Tenant looked at her anxiously. She would have much preferred a demonstration of some sort to silence—silence and pallor. She continued:

'Emma, you are our only child, our all. We think of your happiness more than of anything else in this world. Your mother is with you now; she will help you and sustain you until you have recovered, as you soon will, from the effect of this sudden shock.'

'And he said it was because papa had failed?' inquired Emma, without appearing to notice what her mother was saying.

'Exactly.'

'Then it was because he thought I was rich that he wanted to marry me?'

'For nothing else in the world,' replied Mrs. Tenant, impatiently.

Emma was again silent, but she was no longer pale; on the contrary, the color was fast filling her cheeks, and she blushed as she said, in a low tone, 'I shall feel so mortified to go into church.'

Mrs. Tenant was delighted. A great point was gained. Emma was already brought back to ordinary considerations; her pride would rally now.

'Never mind, my darling, never mind; for once it may be a little awkward, but, after all, what do we care?'

Very commonplace, to be sure, but it was all she could say.

'Everybody knows that the wedding day was fixed. Then, you know, I had to explain why it was put off to Ellen Stanley and Julia Petit, for they were to be my bridesmaids. This morning I met Ellen, and she asked me when it was to be, and I told her Hi—Mr. Meeker had not yet returned. She declared she saw him on the corner of Bond street and Broadway day before yesterday morning. She said she could not be mistaken. I told her she was mistaken. Now I dare say she did see him. What shall I do? Everybody will have the story, and how they will laugh at me!'

'We will see about that, we will see,' said Mrs. Tenant.

The fact is, she did not know exactly what to reply.

'I shall be ashamed to show myself in the street.'

'Nonsense, my darling.'

Kissing her daughter cheerfully, Mrs. Tenant went down stairs to meet her husband, whom she heard at the door.

The moment her mother left, Emma's heart sank, and she began to cry.

Mrs. Tenant was not long in putting her husband in possession of the situation of things. He was astonished, of course. He asked a great many questions, and at last seemed to comprehend how matters stood. He appeared to be very deeply affected, though he said but little. He did not speak on the subject to Emma, but soon after dinner took his hat and walked out.

In a short time he was standing on the steps of Dr. Chellis's house, and had rung the bell. He was presently seated in the Doctor's 'study' (he declined to go into the drawing room), waiting for him to come in.

Now it so happened that Dr. Chellis and Mr. Tenant were schoolmates at Exeter Academy, and afterward classmates at Yale. More than this, for two years they roomed together. Young Tenant did not have much taste for study, but his father, a man of competence, desired his son to be 'educated,' even if it should afterward be decided to make a merchant of him. It was perhaps because the young men were so unlike that they took to each other from the first and became intimate. There was something in Tenant's honest, genuine, and amiable nature, which was exceedingly attractive to the hardy, earnest, uncompromising Chellis. Their intimacy was a matter of surprise and marvel to all, yet I think is easily accounted for on the hypothesis just mentioned. That Tenant maintained a respectable standing in his class he owed to Chellis, for it was their habit to go over their lessons together after Chellis had 'dug out' his, and thus fortified, Tenant's recitations were very fair.

The young men never lost sight of each other. With them it continued always to be 'Aleck' and 'Harry.' Whenever the young clergyman came to New York he was received at the house of the young merchant with open arms. After some years, opportunity was presented for 'Harry,' to wit, Mr. Henry Tenant, of the leading house of Allwise, Tenant & Co., to use his influence in his church, where the pulpit had become vacant, to have 'Aleck,' to wit, the Rev. Alexander Chellis, called to fill it. The latter received the invitation with pleasure, for it opened a field to him he longed to enter. There was one drawback. He had not sufficient means to properly furnish a city house, where matters are on a scale so much more expensive than in the country. But he came down to consult his friend. After a full discussion they retired, the clergyman still not persuaded he could accept, and really most unwilling to decline. The next morning the merchant was up very early, and bolting into his friend's room, he woke him from a sound slumber, exclaiming, 'Aleck, I have got to be absent to-day—shall not be in till evening; but I have thought your affair all over, and decided that you must come, and that forthwith. As to the little objection which troubles you, here is what will obviate it; and mind you, Aleck, if you ever allude to this circumstance, either to me or to any living being, I swear, by Jupiter Ammon, your favorite old heathen, that I will never again recognize you as friend.'

Thus delivering himself, he thrust a check for a thousand dollars into the hands of the astonished clergyman, who lay listening to his harangue, fully convinced his friend was actually out of his wits. The next instant the door was closed; and rubbing his eyes to satisfy himself he was not dreaming, he examined the piece of paper in his hand, and read it forward and backward, upside down, and right side up, until he actually began to comprehend what it meant. More than this, he fully appreciated the act, and accepted it; and further, he never did allude to the circumstance, not even so much as to thank his friend. It is true, when the latter came back that evening and the two shook hands, that Harry felt a peculiar pressure, and observed a peculiar expression in Aleck's eyes, which he fancied for the moment were moist.

So Mr. Chellis was ordained over the church in New York. Years ran away. He became a famous divine, justly celebrated through town and country. We know the position Mr. Tenant enjoyed. The two always maintained their old intimacy. When alone together, it was still 'Aleck' and 'Harry.' College jokes were repeated, college days lived over, and, while together, it would seem that neither was a day the older for the years that had rolled over them. It is not to be wondered at then that on receiving the unlooked-for intelligence of Hiram Meeker's conduct he should desire to consult his old friend and lay the case before him.

Apologizing for keeping the reader so long on the threshold of Dr. Chellis's study, we will now enter with him, and report the conference.

'Aleck, I am in trouble.' That was the first remark after the greeting.

Never before had Mr. Tenant made such an observation to his friend. The old merchant had borne his failure like a man, accepting it as a part of the 'fortune of war.' He neither whimpered nor made wry faces. So, when Dr. Chellis heard the words, 'Aleck, I am in trouble,' he knew they meant a great deal. He took his seat, not in his accustomed place, but on the sofa close to his friend, and turning on him an anxious, sympathizing look, he said, in a tone gentler than a woman's, 'What is it, Harry?'

'Harry' told him the whole. The burden of all his thoughts was his daughter, and his lip quivered when he spoke of her love for the man who had proved to be so base, and of the effect the disappointment might have on her.

When he had concluded, Dr. Chellis started to his feet and began to pace up and down the room with great energy, exclaiming, 'God be praised! God be praised! God be praised!'

'For what, Aleck, for what?' inquired Mr. Tenant, rising anxiously from his seat and attempting to place himself before his friend, and thus intercept a response; 'do tell me for what?'

This time they met in the middle of the room; the Doctor no longer avoided his companion, but responded, with emphasis, 'For the escape! I tell you, Harry, it should be the happiest day of your life! yes, the happiest day of your life! Do you hear me?'

For Mr. Tenant did not appear to comprehend what the other was saying.

'I tell you,' continued the Doctor, 'Emma's engagement has been a perpetual source of sorrow to me. Yet I had nothing definite to urge against it, nothing, in fact, but what might be called a prejudice, which it would have been unjust to speak of—and—but—the fact is, I knew,' burst forth the now fairly enraged Doctor, interrupting himself and marching off again at double quick, 'I knew the fellow was a scamp, ever since he came whimpering to me about his conviction and God's providence, wonderful conversion, and so on. Conversion! I'll convert him!'

The Doctor's right hand opened and shut as if enclosing in its grasp the collar of Hiram's coat.

Mr. Tenant meantime kept standing in the middle of the room, trying in vain to bring the Doctor again to a halt. Whether he would have succeeded will not be known, for a knock at the door served to effect the purpose, while his sharp, angry 'Come in' so terrified the servant girl that she opened it barely wide enough to enable her to announce, in a faint tone, Mr. Meeker.'

'Ask him into the parlor,' said the Doctor, in his natural voice, 'I will see him presently.'

Then he turned, and in his usual manner bade his friend sit. Both resumed their places on the sofa, and the Doctor proceeded:

'Harry, it is all settled. The whole thing is clear. It comes just in the right time. You know Maria is to sail for Europe next week. You know how fond she is of Emma. It was but yesterday she was saying how pleasant it would be if Emma could go with her. Then she supposed it impossible. Now it is all right. The young people are to be absent six or eight months. This will put Emma quite right. Now, then, we have decided this, you must let me have my session with that knave yonder.'

'But Aleck! Aleck!' exclaimed Mr. Tenant, making an effort to stop his friend, who was about to leave the room, 'you forget—you forget my altered circumstances. Much as I like the plan, the thing is impossible—really quite impossible.'

The Doctor turned on his companion impatiently.

'That's my affair,' he said. 'Mind that Emma is ready.'

'No, no, Aleck—no, no, that must not be. No, no.'

The Doctor looked as if about to make an assault on his friend, and then raising his finger in a menacing manner, 'Who was it,' he exclaimed fiercely, 'that with rude force burst into my room one morning, disturbing my slumbers, and committing various acts of violence, while I was in a defenceless state unable to resist—who was it?'

The Doctor's eyes actually glared with such a genuine expression of rage, that Mr. Tenant lost his self-possession, and, as if afraid to admit the charge, answered faintly:

'I don't know.'

'You lie, you dog—you know you do,' said the Doctor, relaxing his angry tone. 'Ah, Harry, I did not think it of you.'

This last remark was uttered in the old familiar, gentle tone, and was accompanied by a look—just such a look as he had given him on the evening of the memorable affair of the thousand-dollar check.

Tears came into Mr. Tenant's eyes.

'Come, come,' said the Doctor, 'don't be foolish; away with you, and let me attend to my business.'

They shook hands silently, and the Doctor, closing the door after his friend, went back to his study, rang the bell, and directed Hiram to be summoned.

* * * * *

Mrs. Tenant received the account which her husband brought her of his visit to Dr. Chellis, and what had been decided on, with the liveliest satisfaction. She went at once to her daughter's apartment (she had thought best to leave her to herself for the evening), and exclaimed:

'Emma, my child, what do you think your papa has done? He has arranged for you to go with the Chaunceys to Europe next week. You know Maria was telling you Monday that if you were not going to be married, she should insist on your accompanying her. Now tell me, Emma, are you not delighted?'

Emma was delighted, or rather she was greatly relieved. She had more sensitiveness and more pride than one would suppose, judging from her amiable disposition. Her position had always been so well assured, her society so much sought for, and she so much courted, that never, until this occasion, had she experienced any important trial of her temper or emotions.

To appear in society, the daughter of a bankrupt, jilted, and jilted because she was no longer an heiress, exposed to the various remarks and busy gossip so rife on such occasions, was it not trying? And do you wonder that it was a great relief for her to know she was to be freed from this ordeal; that she was to experience not only a complete change of scene, but the change was to be every way agreeable, and what she would, under ordinary circumstances, have most desired?

To visit Europe! In those days the affair was not one of such common occurrence as at present, and of course the trip was the more valued.

Bravo, Emma! Next Thursday you will be on the ocean, away from every disagreeable association. Much as we shall miss you, we must bid you good-by for the present.

Emma did not close her eyes in sleep that night, and if her heart beat with excitement at the thought of the sudden change in her destinies, immediate as well as remote, there were moments when its pulses were deadened, and a thick, brooding, unhappy melancholy took possession of it, as she thought of what she had lost. A pang—it was that of disappointed love—from time to time made itself felt with keenness, and the morning found her restless and ill at ease. Could it be otherwise?

* * * * *

When Hiram received the summons to attend Dr. Chellis in his study, he was in the midst of a calculation as to the profit and loss of a certain operation, which I do not propose to explain to the reader. He had intended to call on the Doctor immediately on his return from Hampton, but was too much occupied. When, however, he came to a sudden break with Mrs. Tenant (he did not intend it should be sudden), he felt the necessity of fortifying himself in the church, for he was well aware of the deservedly high character Mr. Tenant enjoyed in it. He did not know the intimate relations which existed between him and the Doctor.

Although the weather was exceedingly warm, Hiram wore his complete suit of black cloth, and as he came with downcast eyes and mincing steps into the Doctor's room, the latter, who had taken his accustomed seat before his table, looked at him as he would at some strange, extraordinary apparition. He returned Hiram's salutation so gravely that it checked any further advance toward shaking hands. He proceeded, however, to take a seat without waiting to be asked.

'Something wrong,' he said to himself. 'It can't be he has heard of it so soon—only this very afternoon; impossible. Perhaps he is at work on his sermon. I must apologize.'

Thereupon Hiram took courage, and said, in a bland tone:

'I fear I am interrupting you in your valuable labors; shall I not call another time?'

'No; I am quite at liberty;' and the Doctor looked as if he would ask, 'What do you want?'

'You have without doubt heard of my affliction,' groaned Hiram, producing his pocket handkerchief.

'Your mother died lately, I understand.'

Hiram's answer was inaudible; his face was buried in his handkerchief.

The Doctor was becoming impatient.

'What is the object of your visit?' he asked.

The handkerchief was instantly removed from Hiram's face. He cast his eyes reproachfully on the Doctor, and exclaimed, quite in a natural tone:

'Object! are you not my pastor; am I not suffering? Have I not been watching for weeks at my mother's dying bed? And now she has gone, I feel unhappy, very unhappy. I want your advice and sympathy, and spiritual direction.'

The Doctor was staggered—I say staggered, not convinced, not persuaded, not in any sense inclined to change his opinion of the young man before him. But a blow had been well put in, and he felt it.

For Hiram, not imagining the Doctor could have heard of the affair with Miss Tenant, thought his treatment owing to some sort of caprice, and he seized the opportunity to act on the offensive, and dealt so genuine a retort that the former was taken by surprise. For a moment he seemed to be in a revery.

'You have lost your mother,' he said dreamily, while his large features worked with an involuntary movement, betraying strong inward emotion—'your mother; an irreparable loss. Tell me, Meeker,' he continued, after a pause, while he turned his large, searching gray eyes on the young man, 'tell me, did you really love your mother?'

It would have been, one would suppose, the easiest thing in the world for the glib-tongued Hiram to reply to such an interrogatory; but there was something awful in that gaze—not severe, nor stern, nor condemnatory, but awful in its earnest, truthful, not to be escaped penetration.

He hesitated, he stammered, he changed color. Still those eyes regarded him—still Hiram continued to hesitate, and stammer, till some sort of response came out, by piecemeal, incoherently.

Meantime the Doctor had recovered from his revery.

'You have been very unhappy?' he asked, in a dry tone.

'Oh yes, very.'

'What have you to say about your relations with Miss Tenant?'

'He has heard all about it,' thought Hiram, 'and I must do the best I can.' 'Why, sir, in my present afflicted state, how could I form so important a tie as that of matrimony? So it was thought best by Mrs. Tenant that the engagement should be considered at an end, at least for the present. This was her own suggestion, I assure you.'

'Look you, Meeker,' said Dr. Chellis, endeavoring to restrain his anger, 'I have heard the other side of this story, and had you not called on me, I should have sent for you. I cannot permit such a course as you are charged with to go without the action of the church.'

'By what right does the church undertake to supervise my domestic affairs?' retorted Hiram, now fully roused, and at bay.

'The church will always take official notice of misconduct on the part of any of its members.'

'With what am I charged?' demanded Hiram, defiantly.

'With violation of the most sacred of promises, with prevarication, dissimulation, and moral fraud.'

'Since it is determined to prejudge me, I shall ask for a letter of dismission, and worship elsewhere.'

'I cannot grant you a letter while you are under charges.'

'And do you call it fair to persecute, in this way, at the instigation of a proud aristocrat (he had already learned this slang sophistry), a young man, who is almost a stranger among you?'

'Meeker,' said the Doctor, once more relaxing into a meditative tone, 'Meeker, you have asked for my advice and spiritual direction: Answer me, answer me truly; have you really no idea, at least to some extent, what sort of person you are?'

'Dr. Chellis, I will no longer sit here to be insulted by you, sir. I have borne quite too much already. I will endure it no longer. Good evening, sir.'

Hiram flung himself out of the room. He was not at all angry, though he affected to be. Things were working heavily against him, and he saw no way to retreat except to fly in a passion or appear to do so. Once out of the house, he breathed more freely, and hastening home, he without delay set about the labor of reconstruction. He had uphill work, but difficulties brought out his resources.

His first step was to make a written request for a letter of dismissal, on the ground that he was about to remove to the church of the Rev. Dr.——.

The request for a letter was refused, and Hiram's course thereon is of a character so important that it deserves to be treated of in a separate chapter.

* * * * *

Meanwhile Emma Tenant is safely across the Atlantic, and, amid new and interesting and romantic scenes, which she is already beginning to enjoy, she tries to forget her heart's first grief.

She will succeed. To aid her, she has her woman's pride against her woman's weakness; a constant succession of fresh and novel incidents, agreeable society, absence from old associations, the natural buoyancy of youth, and a hopeful nature.

Over this host of fortunate circumstances presides that unconquered and always successful leader—TIME.



JEFFERSON DAVIS AND REPUDIATION.

This article, published in our August issue, has awakened so wide an interest in the community, that the Editor of THE CONTINENTAL deems it expedient to place before its readers the additional matter contained in a later edition published in England, where it has circulated by thousands. We regret that this edition did not arrive in time to appear at large in our August number; but as it did not, we herewith offer the additional matter so arranged that our readers will have but little difficulty in fitting it in its appropriate place.

Addition 1st.—August CONTINENTAL, page 219, after line 23 from the top, viz.: 'and the countrywomen of the Mother of the Lord,' read:

Mississippi was the first repudiating State; A.G. McNutt, the first repudiating Governor; and Jefferson Davis, the first repudiating Senator. As another evidence of the incredible extent to which the public sentiment of that day was debased, I quote the following passage from Governor McNutt's message of 1840, proposing to repeal the bank charters, and to legalize the forgery of their notes—'The issuing of paper money, in contravention of the repealing act, could be effectually checked by the abrogation of all laws making it penal to forge such paper.' (Sen. Jour. p. 53.) Surely, nothing, but the fell spirit of slavery, could have dictated such a sentiment.

Proceed as before.

Page 220 CONTINENTAL, after line 45 from the top, viz.: 'is a constitutional act,' insert:

The supplemental act, we have seen, was not, in the language of the Constitution, a law 'to raise a loan of money on the credit of the State;' that act had already passed two successive Legislatures, and was unchanged by the supplemental, which merely modified some of the details of the bank charter; such was the fact, and such the decree of the inferior court, such was the unanimous decision of the highest judicial tribunal of the State, to which the final adjudication had been assigned, by a mandatory provision of the Constitution.

Surely this decision should have settled the question. But it did not. Jefferson Davis, notwithstanding his professed desire to submit this question to the final decree of the courts of the State, persisted, as we have seen, in 1849, in repudiating these bonds, at a period more than seven years after this decision of 1842, and still persevered, after the second similar adjudication of 1853.

Omitting 'Surely this decision should have settled the question. But it did not,' proceed as before.

Page 23. On last line of the page, 'after this wide domain,' insert:

Who conspired to assassinate the American President on his way to Washington? Who murdered in Baltimore the men of Massachusetts on their way to the defence of the capitol of the Union? Who commenced the conflict by firing upon the starving garrison of Sumter, and striking down the banner of the Union which floated over its walls? Who, immediately thereafter, announced their resolution to capture Washington, seized the national arms, and forts, and dockyards, and vessels, and arsenals, and mints, and treasure, and opened the war upon the Federal Government?

Returning to last line, page 27, proceed as before.

Page 224, fifth line from the bottom find: 'broad basis of the will of the people.' After which insert:

But, let me resume the debate. When the ministry had closed, the earnest opponents of slavery, and true friends of England and America, discussed the question. Seldom have such great speeches been heard on any occasion, and the impression was most profound.

What is it England is asked to recognize? It is a confederacy, claiming to be a league of sovereign and independent States, like the old American Confederacy of 1778, abandoned when we formed a nation in 1787. When England, in 1783, recognized the old Confederacy, the recognition was of each of the several States by name, as sovereign and independent. Now, applying those principles on the present occasion, to the several seceded States by name, Is Virginia independent? Why, all her coasts and seaports are held by us, so is Norfolk, her commercial capital, more than half her area and white population, and nearly half her territory has been organized as a new State of the Union, and, by the almost unanimous vote of her people, has abolished slavery. Are North and South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, Alabama, and Texas independent? Why, their whole coast and large portions of the interior are held by our army and navy. Is Tennessee independent? Two thirds of her territory, as well as her political and commercial capitals, Nashville and Memphis, are held by us. The same thing is true, to a great extent, as to Arkansas. As to Mississippi—her whole sea coast, and her whole river coast, for 500 miles, with the exception of a single point, are held by us, and more than half her territory. As to Louisiana, we hold three fourths of her territory, all her sea coast, all her river front on both banks of the Mississippi, except one point, and her great city, New Orleans, the commercial capital of the State and of the South, with four times the population of any other Southern city, and with nearly half the free population of the State. More than three fourths of the population as well as area of Louisiana is held by us, with her political and commercial capital, and yet it is proposed to acknowledge Louisiana as one of these sovereign and independent States. How can the so-called Confederacy, claiming to be a league of sovereign and independent States, be recognized as independent, when the States composing that league are not independent? How is Richmond to be reached by an English envoy, or is the blockade to be broken, which is war? How as to slavery! The 331,000 slaves of Louisiana, the three millions of slaves of the seceded States, are emancipated by the proclamation of the President, under the war power uniformly recognized as constitutional by the Supreme Court of the United States. If these are States of our Union, or are retained by us, slavery has ceased, and the three millions of slaves are free. But, if you acknowledge the confederate independence, then, these three millions of slaves, so far as England is concerned, are slaves still, and will remain so forever. To refuse recognition, is to admit the freedom of these slaves—to recognize, is to remand them to bondage, so far as England can accomplish that purpose. Nor is this all—it is to spread slavery over an almost boundless territory, claimed by the South. It is impossible then to escape the conclusion, that, in recognizing this confederacy, England ranges herself on the side of slavery, and does all she can to maintain and perpetuate it in America. Nor is this all. She violates a great moral rule, and a well settled principle of international law, to maintain and perpetuate slavery in the South. By the law of nations, the recognition of national independence is the acknowledgment of the fact of independence. But, we have seen, that the States composing this so-called league, are not independent, but are held, to a vast extent, by our army and navy, including two thirds of their area. Never was independence acknowledged under such circumstances, except as an act of war. The acknowledgment then of the confederate independence, in the present posture of affairs, is, in fact, a declaration of war by England against the United States, without cause or justification. It would be so universally regarded in the United States, and would instantly close all dissensions in the North. If any suppose that England, without any just cause, should thus strike us with the iron-gauntleted hand, and that we will not resist, let the history of the past answer the question. Nor would the union of France, in such an act, change the result, except that nearly all the loss and sacrifice would fall upon England. Including the slaves and free blacks, there is not a single seceded State, in which an overwhelming majority of the people are not for the Union. Now, by the Federal Constitution, slaves are mentioned only three times, and then not as slaves, but as 'persons,' and the Supreme Court of the United States have expressly decided that slaves, so far as regards the United States, are persons, and not property. (Groves vs. Slaughter, 15 Peters, 392.) All persons, in every State, owe a paramount allegiance to the United States, the rebel masters, as well as their slaves—the Government has a right to their services to suppress the rebellion; and to acknowledge the independence of the South, is to ignore the existence of the slaves, or to treat them, as the South do, as chattels, and not persons. In acknowledging, then, Southern independence, the independence of the masters, England expressly recognizes the doctrine of property in man. Such a war, proclaimed by England and France against the United States on such grounds, would be a war of their Governments—not of their peoples, and could have but one termination. As to our recognition of the independence of Texas, it was long after the decisive battle of San Jacinto,—when the Mexican army was destroyed or captured, together with the President, when he acknowledged their independence, the Mexican Government, by accepting the advantages stipulated by him, in fact, and in law, ratified the recognition. It was after all this, when the contest was over, not a Mexican vessel on the coast of Texas, nor a Mexican soldier upon her soil, that we recognized the independence of Texas. The case, therefore, is widely different from the present. Let it be remembered, that we hold, not only the mouth of the Mississippi, its great city, the whole of the west bank of that imperial river, but all the east bank, except two points, thus dissevering Texas, Louisiana, and Arkansas from the rest of the South. Now the area of these three States is 373,000 square miles, and that of all the remaining seceded States, 396,000 square miles. In holding then the west bank of the Mississippi, we have severed the great artery of the South, which is death.

With these additions, easily supplied, our readers have before them the whole of Governor Walker's letter,—ED. CONTINENTAL.



EDITOR'S TABLE

READERS: It were much to be wished, for your benefit, that the stalwart form which has so long presided at our Table, should take the accustomed place at our Banquet, again to serve you with the invigorating fare fit for men; the dainties of delicious flavor suited to the taste of the young and lovely; or once more to pour the accustomed draughts of old Falernian, sunned by a warm heart and matured by a vigorous intellect, into the goblets you are now holding for our September festival. For aught we know, he may even now be treading the old fields of former glory in far Kansas—but his voice will soon again greet you from this social spot, and again spread before you the ripe fruits of a manly experience.

Our other Honorable Editor is also afar, striving in other climes to serve our country, yet constantly giving us reason to know, from his frequent and loyal contributions, that he is gathering honey for THE CONTINENTAL, and has not deserted his arduous post in spending and being spent for the land he loves. May our two Honorables soon return to dispense, as they alone can, the hospitalities of our Editor's Table!

But we should not complain, when we can offer you, in this month of hot suns and motionless airs, such invigorating breaths of fresh, salty wind, directly from the bosom of the surging sea, as we are about to do in the following essay from the pen of A. J. S. He is the author of the vigorous sketch of 'The Southern Colonel' given in our July issue. He has now dipped his pen in the tints of the rainbow and the freshness of the salty wave, and given us:

'FROM THE SEA SHORE.'

Where the land enchants, the sea intoxicates—its sparkle, its mobility, its translucence excite the fancy, as wine does the blood—it combines those elements which produce at once awe and ecstasy in the soul—the unknown, the resistless, the beautiful. One may be melancholy by the sea, but never morbid or supine. Between it and the land there are no gradations; you do not come imperceptibly under its influence, as, in ascending a mountain, you come into the cooler atmosphere; as you approach, you are suddenly enveloped and animated by a crystalline, vivifying element: this is the sea air; those saline qualities, so harsh to the taste, prove a delicious stimulant in the lungs. The sea is incommunicable—neither words, or canvas prepare you for it, as they may often for landscapes; like Livingston's untutored savage, you are always startled and overwhelmed at first sight of it; you feel, like him, an impulse to leap into its waves. If you want to surrender yourself wholly to the sea influence—to study it and assimilate your mind to all its phases—you should choose, as was my fortune, a little fishing town, on the shore, with a sheltered bay to the south and west and the ocean eastward. Here you will find life stripped of care and conventionality; idealized, seductive, and illusive, the days swinging from charm to charm, like bubbles in the sunlight. On such a coast, Nature never confuses her effects—no lively verdure or picturesque landscape intrudes upon the majesty of the sea—only damp mosses and stout creepers veil the harsh outlines of the rocks, and, in the distance, masses of pine trees relieve the gray monotony of the shore—for the rest, everything is left to the sun and the sea. There are a dozen beaches, each distinct in its charm. Some firm, smooth, and white, as a marble walk—others mere waves of sand, which the lightest breeze whirls—and, others, where nature seems to have exhausted her wildest caprice, piled with rocks, black, perilous, defiant, overlooking waters whose solitude is never broken by a sail. It is these deep waters which have that green tint so lustrous and subtle, and as unlike the heavy green seen in most sea pictures as it is unlike grass; it is in more sheltered nooks that the sea assumes that sapphire sheen more ineffable than the sky which imparts it. As the color of the sea depends greatly upon the disposition of the surrounding lands and the prevailing condition of the atmosphere, each little inlet has some tint or effect of light peculiar to itself. I have seen coloring as remarkable—I had almost said as unnatural—as that indigo blue which we connect with the AEgean sea. Indeed, one comes to believe anything possible in the way of sea coloring, however brilliant, or however blank, after intimate and close observation of even a small part of the ocean. I have often fancied that these local features may have given rise to the idea of nymphs and mermaids, especially at night, when, in the setting sun, the colors fade in vapory exhalations, and the waters seem haunted by the spirits of their own beauty—pale, tremulous, waiting the vitalizing ray of the morning light. But it is in winter that the effects of the sun on the sea are most marvellous; this arises, in part, from the clearness of the air, and the dazzling setting of snow, which expresses more vividly the glow of the sea; then, too, that part of the water not exposed to the sun has an ashen, gray tint, which intensifies, by contrast, the more gorgeous hues. I remember many who saw Church's 'Icebergs' thought the coloring too brilliant, while, to those familiar with the sea, it seemed entirely natural. Thus, critics will find that it is by the study of nature we are educated up to high art; and artists, that their great danger is not in being more brilliant, but less delicate than nature. It is on the sea shore that we find the purest democracy—any man who is respectable and desirous of enjoying life may fraternize with the whole population. He who lives in the struggle to acquire or maintain a position can appreciate this social luxury. The sea exercises a delightful influence over the character—its perils induce self-reliance and fearlessness, which are redeemed from conceit by a child-like simplicity arising naturally from the contemplation of an element menacing, invincible, and symbolical of eternity. Then, too, the legends of the sea invest the mind with a sensitive, poetic passion as delightful as it is unworldly, as reverent as it is credulous. No one would deride these superstitions who has watched, as I have, the various phases of the sea—its motions, its intonations—its mists, its foam, its vapors—its sunlit splendors—its phosphorescent marvels—its moonlit and starlit mysteries; but would feel, with something of the awe of the ancients, that the sea is the place of magic, and that only a film separates between the material and the spirit land.

A. J. S.

READERS: You with ourselves have looked upon a very ugly thing since we last met in the pages of THE CONTINENTAL. A Briareus-handed, multiple-formed, Proteus-faced monster, of huge dimensions, wickedly scheming brain, myriad fanged, and every fang imbued with virulent copperhead poison, stormed through our streets in the light of day and in the gloom of night, during many ghastly hours, knowing no law save its own wicked will, while Treason, Cruelty, House-breaking and House-burning, Robbery, Assassination, Torture, Hanging, Murder, stalked on in its wild train of horror. But we know its face now, and it will be our own fault if anything so foul shall e'er be seen again in our midst. We must be on the alert to act when called upon—not to suspect the innocent, but to guard against the guilty.

'Thus do all traitors: If their purgation did consist in words, They are as innocent as grace itself.'

'There is no fear of God in a riot.' We must confess ourselves to have been strangely startled when we found of what nation the rioters were mainly composed. The race whom we had received with the most generous hospitality, rescuing them from starvation and oppression at home—men whom we were hourly teaching to be freemen; women whom we were patiently and painfully instructing in the domestic arts of civilized life, took up arms against our Government, our laws, and ruthlessly pursued the innocent with fire and sword! The race of the old faith of the true St. Patrick, fresh from the 'Isle of Saints,' from which he had himself exiled all copperheads and venomous reptiles, blessed with good and true Priests of the old Religion, with the sweet face of the Blessed Virgin Mary to smile down upon them in their chapels, teaching them reverence for womanhood, and feeding as they firmly believe upon the glorified Body which is hourly broken to exalt and purify humanity, fell in fierce assault upon us. Men from the land of Burke, Curran, Emmet, Moore, Meagher, rose to pillage, burn, and assassinate! Irishmen, afraid to fight for the country which had adopted them as sons! massacring their benefactors! trailing Old Erin's loyal harp for the first time in the dust! bringing shame on the glorious Emerald Isle, and sorrow to the struggling country which had given them a home! Irishmen, taking the laws in their own hands, trampling our Stars beneath their feet—that flag which had first assured them they were men, citizens, with a right to home and happiness! What wonder that we fail to recognize the strong, sturdy, brave, heady, helpful, generous, and impulsive children of the 'Gem of the Sea?' And what shall we say of the venerated Archbishop?

'By holy Paul, they love his Grace but lightly, That fill his ears with traitorous, murderous rumors.'

Alas! the worst is not yet told. Irishmen and Irishwomen, with the sad face of the Mother of the Lord for ever teaching them pity from their altars, fell like fiends from hell upon the unfortunate negro, driving him, a child of Christ, from the poor home he had won with so much toil; robbing him of all he possessed; burning his miserable refuge; frightening into madness his patient wife; braining his children; hounding the panic-stricken unfortunate from street to street, and torturing, mutilating, drowning, and assassinating him! For what, in the name of Heaven? Because he breathed the air of his native land, and dared to pray to the God that made him; because he wanted work for his black and brawny arm, to support his cheerful black wife, and his jolly, woolly-headed children!

'Go back; the virtue of your name Is not here passable!' 'A thousand knees Six thousand years together, naked, fasting, Upon a barren mountain, and still winter In storm perpetual, could not move the gods To look that way thou wouldst.'

It has been said the negro was lazy, and would not work without the lash; that he was incompetent, and could not work; that he was a coward, and would not fight: when it is found that he will work, he is to be deprived of labor; found that he can work, deprived of employment; that he is loyal, and will fight for the country, although she has often been but a stepmother to him; he is driven from his home; his goods plundered and fired; himself mutilated and hung. Alas! alas! 'mine eyes are a fountain of tears for the iniquities of my people!'

'Ireland knows no martyrs,' nobly says the Archbishop. Alas! that she should have martyred the negro upon our own holy soil—the soil of his nativity!

God curses no race, for Christ died for all who will accept him. Even were this plea of cursing true, it is our simple duty to try to lift the curse. To do unto others as we would be done by, is the sublime but simple law of Christianity.

Readers and fellow citizens, let us resolve that all this must cease; we must be ready to put down rebellion North as well as South; to resist all violence and aggression; to support the Government; to fill with enthusiasm the glorious ranks of our brave army, because it is the army of freedom and human progress; we must all aid in carrying our flag without a star undimmed through this fierce crisis, and unfurl it in that fair field of universal liberty and happiness which we must win for the sweet sake of humanity. All hell is armed against us; but God and His angels are on our side! This is the manifest destiny of our country, and to this unveiled glory are we marching on. We proudly offer a home and freedom to men of all climes and regions; in which hospitable offer itself we declare that no dictation, no oppression, no cruelty shall legally exist throughout the length and breadth of this our Holy Land. We have aims before us, and we must accomplish them. The Irishman must be civilized, his better feelings must be cultivated; he must be taught to respect law and order; the American copperhead must be robbed of his power to harm; he has shown his deadly venom, and his fangs must be extracted; to do this effectively, the rebellion, already crushed, must be utterly subdued; the negro must be protected, educated, and elevated; slavery in every form must be driven from the earth; the law of love, which is the law of God, must rule; that so our Heaven-Stars may again cluster in ever-growing brilliancy and lustre over a land of equality, progress, law, order, unity, and happiness. Men and brethren, this is our allotted task, and we must all work in our allotted spheres. Men, women, and children, there is enough to do, and that which will task us all to our utmost strength and capacity. We must be brave, strong, helpful, and unselfish; we must shirk no duty on the score of sex or weakness; we must find excuse for no idleness on the ground of incapacity. We are all capable! We must feel and make others feel that there is no true hope for ourselves or them save in the triumph of our sacred cause. Our stars alone form canopy wide enough to shelter the ever-accumulating ranks of humanity. We must, every one of us, learn the lesson of self-abnegation—it is the sublime lesson of the cross, learned by St. Paul, lived by St. John, worshipped by the Magdalene, and incarnated through the Virgin Mary—thus proving it is for all classes, characters, and sexes. He who will not learn it, is neither hero nor Christian, be he general or bishop.

We shall first (because it is necessary for the progress of the race) conquer our enemies; and then, true to ourselves and our principles, forgive, aid, and love them. Many of them have learned, many more are learning, the misery and shame of slavery. That truth once acknowledged and digested, their hearts will grow glad in the peace of the just, and their desolated land blossom like the rose.

We will all learn to bear with the negro, because he has qualities necessary to fill up the harmony of life. As a general thing, the Irish servants are perhaps more honest, and dull as they seem, have more head; but the negro has more heart. His nature is irrepressible and joyous; he is full of comicality and drollery, of fun, jeers, jokes, yah-yas, and merriment; and this element will be needed in our midst to temper our puritan and national seriousness. He loves music whether sad, burlesque, or gay; is devoted to those who treat him worthily, his affections being easily won; and there is something touching, soothing, and delightful in his inherent respect for gentleman and lady. His aptitude for domestic service; his love for and his power of amusing children and winning their fickle heart, their attachment to him being one of the most delightful traits of Southern life; his impressible, religious and devout nature, mark him as a wonderful element of variety in the domestic texture of our life such as it shall be when he is free, educated in accordance with his nature, and happy. He is not ambitious, he likes to serve those who treat him kindly, and seeks no social equality, as do the Irish, whatever position they may hold. I do not deny that this is a good strong trait in a race, but it does not make an agreeable servant. Our Biddys and Pollys flaunt and flounce to convince us they are as good as we; the negro acknowledges superior deportment, and is ever submissive and respectful to those who know how to treat him. I think when this 'tyranny is overpast' that it will be hard to induce us to part with the negro. He is embodied humor; fun and naive pathos alternate with the most startling rapidity in his wild but loving soul, in which the feminine element of passion generally predominates over sustained virile strength; he is spontaneity itself—and the reflective Anglo-Saxon race will learn to appreciate such promptings of our basic nature. He is happy in serving, and as a servant, is invaluable.

Stern duties are then before us in this world of the mighty West; let us accept them with a willing heart. Our women can do much, for men are widely severed in opinion; and the social element, woman's true and noble sphere, must be made available to bring about a better feeling. Let her so arrange that we shall see more of each other socially, not in grand fetes, tiresome dinners, idle pomposities, but in simple and hospitable greetings, in frequent, unrestrained, and easy commune. She must learn to take a conversational part in the great questions of the day, soothing asperities, and bringing hearts together as she alone can; for women possess naturally the secret of society. Let us not ask in what rank men and women move, but rather what they are, and if noble, let us take them to our hearts. Let us struggle individually to the height of our aspirations, assured that if we so do, this glorious Union is destined to be perpetuated in ever-increasing glory.



AMOR PATRIAE VINCIT.

Red: White: Blue. Love: Peace: Heaven.

God of justice, smile upon us! Justice yet will rule our land; Equal rights bless native, alien, High or low, from every strand; Pledged within our Constitution, They will bless a woe-worn world: God, 'tis Justice makes it holy— Freedom's Charter wide unfurled!

Chorus:

Float, O Flag, reflecting Heaven! where God plants the clustering stars, In the blue depths of thy infinite—so vast that nothing jars!

God of mercy, smile upon us! Mercy yet shall rule our land; Thought be free, all creeds untrammelled, Honor follow labor's hand; All be equal; men be brothers; They must work who fain would soar, Work in earnest for the Human,— Pride and scorn be known no more.

Chorus:

Float, O Flag of mystic colors; red with love; star-gemmed thy Blue; Peace blends in white thy Rainbow light, and waves her snow-wings through!

God of love, O smile upon us! Love shall shine through all our laws; Love shall link each State in Union; Love which knows nor rest, nor pause. Love is central Heart of nations; Love will draw all wandering stars To our field of boundless azure, Held by God from all that mars!

Chorus:

Wildly pours our hearts' blood on thee—crimson current warm and true, Each dead hero links us closer—float on Flag, Red, White, and Blue!

God of Union, smile upon us! Flag of Union, greet the skies! On thy stars and chording colors Every hope for mortals lies! Blasted be the hand would strike thee! Blighted heart and palsied brain! Float till earth knows no oppression, Falsehood, bondage, slavery, pain!

Chorus:

Float, Flag of love; fused States and lives! shine stars on God's own Blue! Love's crimson current gird them close! white-winged Peace wind through!

M. W. C.



THE GOOD GODDESS OF POVERTY.

[A Prose Ballad, translated from the French.]

We think the following beautiful Chant, in honor of the good goddess whose favors we are too apt to scorn, and whom we persist in treating with dire ingratitude, cannot fail to prove acceptable to the readers of the Editor's Table.

M. W. C.

I.

Desert paths strewed with golden sands, rich and undulating prairies, ravines loved by the bounding deer and agile chamois, mountains wreathed with clouds or crowned with glittering coronets of stars, wandering and leaping torrents, impenetrable and gloomy forests,—let her pass, let her pass:

The Goddess—the good Goddess of Poverty!

II.

Since the creation of the world, since man was spoken into being, she has travelled over the earth, she has dwelt among men, she sings as she journeys, and works as she sings:

The Goddess—the good Goddess of Poverty!

III.

Men gathered together to curse her. They found her too gay, too active, too strong, and too beautiful. They said: 'Let us tear off her wings, let us load her with chains, let us lay her low with blows, let her suffer, let her die:

The Goddess—the strong Goddess of Poverty!'

IV.

They chained the good Goddess, they bruised and persecuted her, but they could not degrade her, for she sought refuge in the souls of poets, in the souls of peasants, in the souls of women, in the souls of artists, in the souls of saints:

The Goddess—the good Goddess of Poverty!

V.

She has travelled longer than the Wandering Jew; she has journeyed farther than the swallow; she is older than the cathedral of Prague, yet younger than the little egg of the golden-crested wren; she has multiplied more upon the earth than the crimson strawberry in the green woods of Bohemia:

The Goddess—the good Goddess of Poverty!

VI.

She is the mother of many children, and has taught them all the secrets of God; she spoke to the heart of Jesus upon the mount; to the eyes of Queen Libussa when she loved a peasant; to the spirit of John and Jerome on the pyre of Constance; she has more knowledge than all the doctors and all the bishops:

The Goddess—the good Goddess of Poverty!

VII.

She makes all the grand and beautiful things that are to be seen upon the earth; it is she who cultivates the fields and prunes the trees; it is she who leads the flocks, breathing songs from her heart; it is she who catches the first crimsoning of the dawn, who receives the first smile of the rising sun:

The Goddess—the good Goddess of Poverty!

VIII.

It is she who twines the green branches to make a little cabin for the woodman; who gives the piercing glance of the eagle to the poacher; it is she who brings up the prettiest and strongest little urchins; and who makes the spade and plough light for the hands of the old man, whose silver locks gleam like a halo round the wrinkled brow:

The Goddess—the good Goddess of Poverty!

IX.

It is she who inspires the poet; who makes the flute, guitar, and violin eloquent under the fingers of the wandering and homeless artist: it is she who bears him upon her light wing from the source of the Moldau to that of the Danube; it is she who crowns his dark locks with the glittering dewdrops, who makes the sparkling stars shine so large and clear upon his uncertain path:

The Goddess—the good Goddess of Poverty!

X.

It is she who instructs the ingenious artisan, who teaches him to hew the stone, to chisel the marble, to mould gold, silver, copper, and iron; it is she who, under the fingers of the aged mother and the rose-cheeked daughter, makes the flax fine and elastic as the golden tresses of the maiden:

The Goddess—the good Goddess of Poverty!

XI.

It is she who supports the tottering hut when shaken by the winter storms; it is she who saves the resin of the torch and the oil of the lamp; it is she who kneads the bread of the family, who weaves the winter wool and summer flax; it is she who nourishes and feeds the world: The Goddess—the good Goddess of Poverty!

XII.

It is she who builds the mighty castles and the vast cathedrals, who bears the sword and handles the musket; it is she who fights our battles and gains our victories; it is she who buries the dead, who takes care of the wounded, and who conceals the vanquished:

The Goddess—the good Goddess of Poverty!

XIII.

Thou art all patience, all sweetness, all strength, and all pity, O thou good Goddess! It is thou who linkest all thy children in the ties of a holy love, and who givest to them Faith, Hope, and Charity:

O Goddess—thou good Goddess of Poverty!

XIV.

The time is coming when thy children shall no longer be crushed with the weight of the world, when they shall be rewarded for their pain and labor. The time is approaching when there shall be no longer rich and poor, when all men shall together consume the fruits of the earth, and equally enjoy the gifts of God; but thou shalt never be forgotten in their hymns:

O Goddess—thou good Goddess of Poverty!

XV.

They will always remember that thou wert their faithful mother, their robust nurse, and their church militant. They will spread balm upon thy bleeding wounds, they will make the fertile and perfumed at last repose:

O Goddess—thou good Goddess of Poverty!

XVI.

While patiently awaiting the promised day of the Lord, torrents and forests, mountains and valleys, lands teeming with wild flowers and filled with little singing birds, desert paths which have no masters though sanded with gold, let her pass—let her pass:

The Goddess—the good Goddess of Poverty!



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 humour. 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.

As an Inducement to new subscribers, the Publisher offers the following liberal premiums:

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.

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.



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.

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 soil capable of supporting 20,000,000. No State in the Valley of 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 admirable 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, Allen & 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 had 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 85,000,000 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.

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 " in seven years 200 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 " in seven years 100 00



Number 22. 25 Cents.

THE

CONTINENTAL

MONTHLY.

DEVOTED TO

Literature and National Policy.

OCTOBER, 1863.

NEW YORK:

JOHN F. TROW 50 GREENE STREET

(FOR THE PROPRIETORS).

HENRY DEXTER AND SINCLAIR TOUSEY.

WASHINGTON, D.C.: FRANCK TAYLOR.



CONTENTS.—No. XXII

The Freedom of the Press. By Edward B. Freeland, 361

The Brothers. An Allegory, 367

Unuttered. By Kate Putnam, 377

William Lilly, Astrologer. By Henry Willson, 379

Jefferson Davis—Repudiation, Recognition, and Slavery. By Hon. Robert J. Walker, 390

Diary of Frances Krasinska, 394

Maiden's Dreaming. By E. W. C., 403

Thirty Days with the Seventy-First Regiment, 404

Reason, Rhyme, and Rhythm. By Mrs. Martha W. Cook, 412

Currency and the National Finances. By J. Smith Homans, 419

October Afternoon in the Highlands, 433

The Isle of Springs. By Rev. Mr. Starbuck, 433

The Restoration of the Union. By Hon. F.P. Stanton, 444

Was He Successful? By Richard B. Kimball, 452

American Finances and Resources. By Hon. Robt. J. Walker, 463

Voiceless Singers, 473

A Detective's Story, 474

Literary Notices, 478

'EDMUND KIRKE,' author of 'Among the Pines,' &c., and until recently one of the Editors of this Magazine, is prepared to accept a limited number of invitations to Lecture before Literary Associations, during the coming fall and winter, on 'The Southern Whites: Their Social and Political Characteristics.' He can be addressed 'care of Continental Monthly, New York.'

All communications, whether concerning MSS. or on business, should be addressed to

JOHN F. TROW, Publisher, 50 GREENE STREET, NEW YORK.

ENTERED, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by JOHN F. TROW, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York.

JOHN F. TROW, PRINTER.

* * * * *

Transcriber's note

The following changes have been made to the text:

Page 253: "wronged so remorsely" changed to "wronged so remorselessly".

Page 270: "After entering, Lake Ponchartrain" changed to "After entering, Lake Pontchartrain".

Page 276: "has betwoed upon thee" changed to "has bestowed upon thee".

Page 282: "situations so vividy" changed to "situations so vividly".

Page 315" "fence into the door-yard" changed to "fence into the dooryard".

Page 318: "I thought picnicers always" changed to "I thought picnickers always".

Page 323: "gay sorrel" changed to "gray sorrel"

Page 329: "I could't bear" changed to "I couldn't bear".

Page 344: "Kagozima" changed to "Kagosima".

Page 354: "Govenor Walker's" changed to "Governor Walker's".

THE END