sue gmsMtf* Published every Wedb esday bt • H. G. SMITH * CO. El, G. Smith. A, J. Steihmah TERMS—Two Dollars por annum, payable lb all eases In advance. The Lattoastxb Daily iETELuamJcEB Is published evexy evening, Sunday excepted, at $5 per A" nnm In advance. OFFICE —SOUTHWEST OOBNXB OX CEHTBE BUUABE, * fMfojJ. TOUK MISSION. If you cannot on the ocean Ball among the swiftest fleet Rocking on the highest billows, Laughing at the stormH you meet, Yob can stand among the sailors, Anchored yet within the bay; Yon can lend a hand to help them As they launch their boats away. If yon are too weak to Journey Up the mountains, steep and high You can stand within the valley While the multitudes go by; You can chant in happy measures Ab they slowly pass along: Though they may forget lue singer They will not forget the song. If you have not gold and silver Ever ready to command, If yon cannot toward the needy Keach an over open bund, Yon can visit tbo afflicted, O'er the erring you can weep Yon can bo u true discltde. BlttlDg at tbo Havlour's feet. If you cannot In the conflict Prove yourself a soldier, too; If. where lire and smoko are tuic'xcst, There’s no work for you to do; When the battle-lleld Is silent. You can go with silent tread ; You can bear away llio wounded You can cover up the dead. Do not, then, stand Idly walling For some greater work to do ; Fortune Is u lnzy goddess, Bhe will never come to you U i and 101 l in any vineyard, Do not fear to do and dare ; If you want a Oeld of labor, You can find It anywueue. IJWfittUanmw. Tlio Legend or the Princess Taraknnof. Many of the visitors of the PurN Ex hibitlon of 1807 will remember a strik ing picture in the Russian section, re* i presenting the interior of a cell in the PetropavioVHky Fortresss at St. Peters burg, during the great inundation of 1777. It is a picture which cannot fail to produce a strong and a very painful impression on all wliosee it. Through the broken window of the cell the tur bid water is’ pouring iu a great wave; the room is already hulf Udoded, and will soon be camplelely submerged. On the bed a youug girl is standing, pale, and evidently half faintiug with fear, and a number of mice are swimming towards it, or, like her, have already taken refuge upon it> The bare uspect of the dreary prison chamber contrasts strongly with the richness of the youug girl’s dress, worn and fuded as it is, and so does ttie wild look of despair upon her face with the beauty of the features and the grace of the form of one who seems to have been fitted for far other sceues, for a widely diilerent fate. Few of the spectators who saw Lins picture : of Fiavitsky’sturued away fromit with out a wish to know something about the story which it illustrated, ami which the catalogue informed them was known as “The Legend of the Princess Tarakannf.” That story we now propose to tell It has often been told before, but—as far as English nar rators are concerned—always wrongly, and yet it is well worthy of being told ari'ght. But its true nature has not very long been made known even in Russia. It was not till Alexander 11. .came to the throne that the papers were allowed to be examined on which the book is founded, and from which we are about to take our facts.* It is not wonderful, therefore, that the old legend should not yet have been displaced in England by a true version of the story.” The legend runs as follows: After the Empress Catharine 11. had mounted the throne, she discovered that a rival, whose claims might become dangerous to her, existed iu the person of a Prin cess Tarakauof. This princess was the daughter of the Empress Elizabeth by her marriage with Count Eazum ovsky. She hud been brought up abroad in great seclusion, and was Jiving at the time iu Italy.— Catharine determined to get hold of her, and sent Couut Alexis Orlof to Italy, on purpose to entrap her. He contrived to gain the confidence and to Win the heart of the young girl, who was very beautiful and exceedingly charming. Having deluded her by a, false marriage, he got her entirely iuto klB power, inducing her to believe that he was going to espouse her cause and make her Empress of Russia. One day she went on board his ship at Leghorn. At first she was treated with the honors proper to royalty, but was suddenly ar 'rested, loaded with irons, confined in the hold, aud carried oil'to Russia. On arriving there she was thrown into a fortress, and treated iu the moat barba rous manuer, Six years afterwards she perished in her prison, during an inun dation of the Neva. Such is the legend. We pass on now to the true story. The Empress Elizabeth wasol a very Impressionable character. Early iu life, Borne time before she came to the throne, she fell desperately iu love with a young officer named Shubine, and wished to marry him. But before the marriage could bo brought about, he was suddenly arrested, and banished to Kamachatka, by the reigning Em press Aune. Elizabeth consoled herself as she best could, but she did not forget her former lover, aud after her accession sent a confidential agent all over Earn sohatkain search ol him. For many moutlisßhat officer traveled about the country seeking him iu vain; all his Inquiries were fruitless. No oue had ever heard of Bueh a name as Shubine. But at last one day. while lie was talk ing to a group of cxllles, lie happened to mention the name or the Em press Elizabeth. “Is Elizaveta Petrov na now ou the throne?” usked one of them. The officer replied in tlie af firmative, but the exile seemed to doubt the fact, until he was shown an official , document in wbicli Elizabeth was nam ed as Empress. “If that in the case,” said the convict, “the| Shubine; whom you are asking about is standing before you.” Elizabeth’s long-lost lover was found at last. On his arrival at St. Petersburg)Elizabeth received him very kindly, made him a major-general, aud conferred various other honors upon him. But the years he had passed iu exile had produced a great change iu him. His bodily health was shattered, . aud his thoughts had turned to religion, and especially to its ascetic Bide. He soon retired from the court, and before long he died. His last days were spent In the country, on au estate which the Empress had given him. There, in the village church, are preserved to this day a costly pictureof the Saviour aud a precious relic, both presented to her former lover in remembrauce of her early attachment. AfterShubino'sbauishment Elizabeth had turned her attention to another lover. In the same year wilh herself, in 1709, a certaiu Alexis Razutn had come info the world, the son of a simple Cossack in Little Russia. As the young Alexia grew up, it was discovered that he had a magnificent voice, and lie be came oue of the choristers in the village church. There ho was heard one day by an agent collecting singers for tbe Imperial chapel, by whom he was at once transferred toBt. Petersburg, where Elizabeth saw him, aud took a fancy to him. jys aoon as slio mounted the throne Bhe began to confer on him the first of a long series of honors. The young Cos sack Razum Boon became the great noble Razumovsky, Count of the Ho man as well as of the Itussiau empire. In the year-1744, the Empress first made him a field-marshal and then married him. From that time till the end of her life he bore himself very discreetly, and never lost his influence over her. After Elizabeth’s death, the Empress Catha rine 11. sent Count Vorontßof to ask Razumovsky to produce the papers bearing on his marriage with her pre decessor, and offering to confer on him the title of Imperial Highness. Vo rontsof went to Razuraovsky’s bouse, and found him “Bitting in an arm chair by the Are, and reading the Bible.” After the usual compliments Vorontsof explained the cause of his visit. Razumovsky did not utter a word, b,ut silently roße and opened a cabinet, from a Becret drawer in which he produced a packet of papers envel oped in rose-colored satiu. These he be gan to read, still keeping silence; when hehadiinlsbed reading them he raised his eyes, which were swimming in tears, to the sacred pictures which hung over head, crossed himself devoutly, and threw the papers into the fire. Then he resumed his seat and began to speak. According to his account the late Em press had never bad any relations with. • The book was published last year At St. Petersburg, under the title of “Kny«Jn Tara kanoval Printsesßa Vladimirskaya.’’ P. Mel nikova f Princess Tarakanova and the Princess of Vladimir. By P. MeUnkofj, but Its sub stance had already appeared iu some of the Russian periodicals. A German translation of part orlt had been published at Berlin, un derthetitle of “Die vergebllche Toohter der Kalserin Elisabeth Petrowoa.” , r ■-rr.'* ~~ ■- -- ,-r f I'ancaSta" Jut dligenret: VOLUME 70 him beyond those of a monarch with a devoted subject, and the story of the marriage was nothing but an idle legend. For himself, he wished no more than to end his days in prayerful seclu sion. , . There can be no doubt, however, that the marriage really took place, and that two children were the iruit of It. Ui these one was a son of whom nothing certain is known, but tradition relates that he lived till the beginning of the present century, shut up in a distant monastery, and always bitterly lament ing his unhappy lot. Of the daughter more had been ascer tained, Of her early life nothing is known, but iu 1785, when forty years old, she was sent by the Empress Cath arine 11. to the Ivanovsky convent at Moscow. There she lived for Borne five and-twenty years leading bo secluded a life as to see scarcely any one beyond a few priests. A private corridor and staircase led directly from her cell into the convent church, and so she could go into it unseen. When there, mass used to be said privately for her, and on such occasions the church doors were closed and no strangers were admitted. The curtains behind the windowsTif the cell were always drawn ; and if any of the passers-by loitered near and tried to look in, they were Immediately driven away. There has been some slight dispute as to the date of her decease, but her tombstone states that she died on February 4, 1810, in the sixty-fourth year of her age. The Governor of Mos cow and the other great officials attend ed at her funeral in full uniform, and the crowd of lookers-on was enormous. She was not buried iu the cemetery of the conveut in which she had lived, but in that of the Novospassky monastery. It Is a fitting resting-place for one who had led a quiet life, for It is a very quiet spot, although lying close to one of the large streets in the outskirts of Moscow. The graves seem somewhat huddled up together, and have rather a neglected look, but there are trees which throw a pleasant shade on them, and in the fine weather of spring and early summer the birds sing pleasantly and flowers grow around in profusion. Even an acknowl edged princess might find a worse place to sleep in. So much as regards the real Princess Turakauof, of whom but little has been written. Now for the pretender to the title, on whom much ink and sympa thy have been expended. About the year 1771, a certain Van Toers, the son of a Hutch merchant, fied from Ghent, where hs left a wife aud several creditors, and took up his residence in London. With him came a Madame Tremouille,—a lady who had been living in Berlin under the name of Franck, and iu Ghent under that or Scholl. She is said to have been very beauti ful, although with u slight cast iu one eye; and as she was both clever and accomplished, and had a singularly fas eiuatiug mauuer, she succeeded in charming most of the persons with whom she was brought into contact. — She and Van Toers lived in great style iu London, but before long fresh credi tors obliged him to leave England.— In the spriug of 1772 he appeared in Paris, under the title of the Baron Ernbs and thilher he was followed a few months later by Madame Troumille.who now began to call herself the Princess of Vladimir. Her story was that her parents, with whose name she was un acquainted, had died while she was very young, add that she had been brought up in Persia by an uncle. This uncle was taking care of her property, which was of fabulous value, and she herself had come to Europe for the pur- >ose of looking after a rich inheritance which had accrued to her in Russia. Alina, as she called herself spent the winter of 1772 very pleasantly in Paris, where she added greatly to the number of her admirers and of her creditors, prominent amoog the former being Ogineki, the Polisn Ambassador, with whom she became closely allied. But before long Van Toers again became crippled by debts, and in 1773 he had to tly with Alina and some of her friends to Fraukfort. Even there his creditors persecuted him, and he was put in prison. Fortuuately for Alina, theie arrived just then in the city a very fool ish sovereign, Prince Philip Ferdinand of Limburg. The fair foreigner was in troduced to him, and almost at the first interview completely won his heart. He paid her debts, aud treated her with such royal magnificence that she soon deserted her other admirers for him, and in the beginning of June. 1773, she left Fraukfort and went with him to his castle in Franconia. There she led a life 'luxury and ex- travagance which exactly suited her, and there she discovered for herself a new family history and provided her self with a new title. Bhe became now “the Sultana Alina,” and as the daugh ter of a Turkish Sultan was styled “Princess of Azof;” moreover, she founded the Order of the Asiatic Cross, A little later, however, she explained that she was only “a lady of Azof,” not the Princess ;of that country, aud ;hat she would soon he recognized In Russia as sole heiress to the property of the house of Vladimir. Meanwhile the Prince of Limburg became more and more infatuated with her, and at last asked her to marry him. Bhe consent ed, and it seemed as if, after all her wanderings and adventures, a quiet and enviable life was übout to open before her. But about this time a young Pole named Homanski began to make his appearance “at Oberstein, where the “ Princess or Vladimir” was holding a kind of Court, aud before long she was in close correspondence with several of the Polish nobles, especially with Prince Charles Radzlwill. Poland was then smarting under the injustice of the “First Partition,” and Radzlwill wus taking an active part In the proceedings of the Polish committee into which the leading members of the late Confeder ation of Bar ;hnd formed themselves.— The successes gained In the east of Rus sia by Pugachef—the insurgent chief who preteuded to be the Emperor Peter lll.—had raised the hopes of the Poles, aud they were anxious to take advan tage of them in order to set/a western insurrection on foot. How far their ad vice may have swayed the aotionof the “ Princess of Vladimir ” is not known, but before long rumors began, to spread abroad to the effect that she was no less than rightful heiress to the throne of Russia, being the legitimate daughter of the late Empress Elizabeth by her marriage witn Count Itazumovsky ; aud that Pugachef, who was the count’s son by an earlier marriage, was her half brother. .With an imperial crown In view no wonder that she disdained the the merely princely coronet of.the ruler of Limburg, and iu the spring of 1774 she left him never to return. From Germany she went into Italy, settling down for a time at Venice, where, under the name of the Countess i’inueberg, she set up a kind of little court. She lived in the house of the French Resident, spent her money freely, and allowed herseltevery indul gence. Her principal visitors were Poles, but the captains of two Turkish frigates, Hassan and Muhammad by name, were often at her receptions, and so was a well-known English traveler who had a strong taste for all mauner of eccentricities, Edward Wortley Mon tagu. After a time she determined to go to Constantinople, with the Idea of trying to persuade the Sultan to support her claim to the Russian throne. Ac cordingly, she and all her court em barked on board one of the Turkish vessels, the commander receiving her with the greatest respect, and treating her as a royal personage. The ship set sail, but contrary winds drove it to Corfu, whence its captain determined to return to Venice. Several of the followers of the Princess went back in it, entreating her to accompany them ; but she would not do so. They left her, and sho embarked on board another Turkish vessel, and a seo ond time set sail for Constantinople. But a second time a storm aroße, and the ship was obliged to take refuge in the harbor of Ragusa. In that city the Princess took up her habitation, being lodged there, aa before at Venice, in the house of the French consul. The French king was said to look with no unfriendly eye on her opposition to the Empress Catharine. At Ragusa the Princess matured her plans. By way of confirmation of her story, she now produced certain docu ments of a very suspicious nature, amongst them the wills of Peter the Great and the Empress Elizabeth, ; on which she founded her claim to i the throne of Russia. She also wrote a letter to the Sultan, suggesting an al- I iiance with him against Catharine, and saying that Sweden and Poland were willing to take part in it; and she sent the Grand Vizier a copy of the letter, which she asked him to forward to her half-brother, Pugachef, She did not know that Pugachef was at that mo ment a fugitive, soon to be betrayed to the Russian general; nor did she sus pect that her friend Radzlwill had giv en Becret orders to his agent at Constan tinople not to forward the letters she sent to his care for the Sultan and the Grand Vizier. In her letter to the Sultan, the Prin cess spoke of an address which Bhe had communicated to the Russian fleet at Leghorn. That fleet was commanded by Count Alexis Orlof, and it was to him that she addressed herself, sending a letter to him which she intrusted to the care of Mr. Wortley Montagu. In it she called upon Orlof to espouse her cause, styling herself Elizabeth 11., Princess of Russia,and distinctly claim ing the throne as hers by right. Orlof re ceived the letter with delight, and im mediately sent it on to the Empress Catharine, telling her that he intended to enter into communication with his correspondent, and that as son as he could getheronboard his Bhip he would sail straight away with her to Cron stadt. Catharine Rent word to Orlof to get hold of the pretender at all risks, even telling him—if his own account of the matter may be taken as correct —that he was to bombard Ragusa in case the senate of that republic refused to give her up, On the receipt of thlß letter, Orlof sent an agent to make inquiries at Kagusa about the Princess Elizabeth, and was about to proceed there himself with his squadron, when he learnt that she was no longer there. By this time her affairs were in disorder, and her prospects sadly overclouded. Peace had been concluded between Russia and Turkey, and Pugacbaf had been taken prisoner and executed, so that Catharine was freed from her most serious appre hensions. Radzlwill, seeing that his plans were no longer practicable, aban doned the unfortunate adventurers, whose cause hehad pretended to espouse so long as Bhe seemed likely to be useful to him. But when asked to betray her, he utterly refused. That act of baseness he left for Orlof to perform. But he did not shrink from leaving her at Ragusa alone and without resources. From Ragusa the Princes went to Na pies, where she made acquaintance with ihe English ambassador, Sir William Hamilton, through whose influence she was enabled to obtain a passport, with which she immediately set off for Rome. There she lived for some time, giving herself out to be a noble Polish lady, and professing to wish to lead a life of great seclusion, making few acquaint ances, and never goiDg out except in a carriage with closed windows. The -truth was, her health had begun to give way, aud for a time she really did lead a quiet life in acquiescence with lier doctor's advice; but so uncongenial a mode of passing her time did not long satisfy her. Meanwhile, she was not unmindful of her interests. Announc ing herseif as a penitent schismatic desirous of entering the Roman Com munion, she tried to make friends at the Vatican. At this time there was no Pope at Rome, for a successor to Clement XVI. had not yet been elect ed. Cardinal Albani was talked of as likely to be chosen, and the Princess was very anxious to obtain an inter view with him. At last on January i, 1775, one of her Polish companions managed to convey a letter from her to the Cardinal, who sent an abbe named Roccotani, to confer with her. On him she produced a very favorabje impres sion, and even the cardinal, in spite of the state of pre-occupation in which he then naturally was, could not help be ing interested in the fair convert, who explained that she was likely to become the Empress of Russia, and would do her best in that case to wean back her subjects from the errors of chism.* But she succeeded only in getting a small amount of money from him. Further assistance he would not give, nor would the Polish Resident at Rome, who treated her with marked coldness. As she had taken once more to leading an extravagant life, keeping some fifty servants, and opening her rooms to a large circle, chiefly persons-of artistic tastes, she was soon in want of money. In her distress she bethought herself of Sir William Hamilton, and wrote him a long letter explaining her claims to the throne of Russia, her present im pecunious position, and the absolute necessity ofherborrowlngalittle money. This letter alarmed the English am bassador, who had no wish to comprom ise himself in the eyes of the Russian authorities, and he determined to make amends for his error in obtaining her passport. So he sent on the letter to the English consul at Leghorn, Sir John Hick. Throughout the whole of this story our countrymen figure to little advan tage. Sir John Hick plays a very sorry part indeed, but he had always been on very friendly termß with the Russian authorities, and especially with Orlof, who procured for him the much-valued decoration of the Order of St. Anne— the only instance of a Russian decora tion being conferred on an English sub ject in the eighteenth century. Blr John Hick seems to have been ready to do anything for Orlof, and at once handed over to him Bir William Hamilton’s letter. Up to this moment Orlof had been unable to trace the movements of the victim he was hunt ing down. Now he knew where to find her. A few days later he was able to send word to the Empress Catharine that one of his officers, Khristenek by name, had been sent to Rome to try and Induce the pretended Princess to leave that city, and to place herself within reach of the arm of Russia. A few days later an English banker named Jenkins Introduced himself to the Princess, and offered to open an un limited credit at his bank for her. At first she thought be came from Sir Wil liam Hamilton, but he explained that his employer was Orlof. to whom he had been recommended by Blr John Hick. A vague suspicion flitted across her mind, and at first she refused the tempting offer. About the same time a stranger had been observed curiously gaziugat the house Bhe occupied, and asking ques tions about its inmates. She immedi ately suspected that he was a Russian agent, and she sent to Cardinal Albuui to ask for protection. But the stranger presented himself to her, aud explained that he had been sent by Orlof to proffer her his services. At first she told him, as she had told Jeukins, that she did not require them. She justly suspected danger, and kept herself aloof from the tolls. But, unfortunately, it was only for a time. A few days later she yield ed to the temptation, listened toKhris tenck’s advice, and, in accordance with it, set out to meet her doom.— About the middle of February, after having had her debts paid by Jenkins, from whom she also borrowed 2,000 du cats on her own account, she set out for Pisa, where Orlof was anxiously await ing her. On her arrival, he received her with'the greatest respect, had her magnificently lodged and entertained, and treated her as a royal personage. The suspicion she had felt at first with regard to his sincerity soon vanished, and before long she believed in him im plicitly. A little later she learnt to love him also. Nor Is that to be wondered at, for Orlof was one of the finest and handsomest men of his day, and a con summate master of the art of making love. Intriguer and adventuress as Bhe was, the Princess was entirely taken in by his feigned attachment, and aban doned herself to him with as enthusi astic a devotion as if Bhe had been an artless and inexperienced girl. Orlof played his part well, and refused her nothing. Relying on this, Khristenek was guilty of the unexampled baseness of asking her to obtain for him his pro motion to the rank of colonel. She con sented at once, and he received his commission from the hands of the un fortunate woman whom he had helped to betray, and whose doom he now felt was sealed. After a few dayß, which she passed very happily, Orlof told her that he must leave her for a time. His useful ally, Sir John Dick, had written to tell him that his presence at Leghorn was absolutely necessary. The Princess tried to induce him to, stay in Pisa, but he told her that It was impossible. “In that case.” she said, “ I will go to Leg horn with you.” Orlof wished for noth ing better. At last, he felt, she was on the point of being in his grasp. The morning after her arrival at Leg horn, Orlof sent a message to Sir John Dick, to say that he was coming to dine I with him; and in the afternoon he appeared with Admiral Greig and sev eral other friends. With him came the LANCASTER PA. WEDNESDAY MORNING AUGUST 25 1869 Prlnceßß, who was received with the greatest apparent respect by the consol and his wife. In the evening Bhe ap peared at the opera, where she was nat urally the centre of attraction. Every eye was turned towards her, and to al most every spectator her position must have seemed a moat enviable one. They little knew that she was then standing on the threshold of a dungeon. The next morning the English consul entertained hisßussian friends at break fast. The Princess was the queen of the feast, every one striving to do her honor, and none, it is Baid, more than Lady Hick and the wife of Admiral Greig. After breakfast the conversation turned on the subject of the Russian ships, and the Princess expressed a desire to see them. Orlof suggested that she should pay his vessel a visit, and she consented at once. The Admiral’s barge was got ready, and the whole party embarked in it. In a short time Orlof had the delight of seeing his victim set foot upon the deck of his flag-ship. It was a beautiful day. The waters of the bay were calm and bright, and the whole spectacle, offered to the poor adventuress was very gay and enliven ing. The people flocked to the Bhore in crowds expecting toseethefleetexecute some of the manoeuvres to which Orlof had accustomed them, and pleasure boats came off to the ships in numbers. The Russian vessels were decked out with flags, their officers appeared on deck in full uniform, their crews man ned the yards, and, amidst the roar of cannon and the cheering of the sailors, the doomed woman was received on board the vessel of her betrayer. She was in high spirits, and thor oughly eDjoyed the brilliant spectac e got up in her honor. A little time passed, and then the vessels began to manccuvre. The Princess stood look ing on in silence. Suddenly she heard a harsh voice demanding from her Polish followers their swordß. She turned, and saw that Orlof and Greig had disappeared, and that in their place stood a file of soldiers under arms, whose commanding officer was in the act of arresting her friends, “ What Is the meaning of this ?” she asked. “ You are arrested by order of the Empress,” was the reply. The terrible truth suddenly flashed upon her mind. She fainted away, and during her state of insensibility she was carried down to the cabin. Her follow ers were removed to another vessel. When Bhe recovered her senses, and asked for Orlof, she was told that he also was a prisoner, and was thus in duced to believe that he was sharing her fate; She fully trusted io him and in his love for her, and he was anxious that she should not be undeceived, for he feared that she might commit sui cide If she lost all hope, and he was very desirous of gratifying Catharine by providing her with a liviug victim. Meanwhile the news of her imprison ment had spread far and wide, aud the greatest indignation was produced by it in Leghorn. Some of the boats which surrounded the Russian ships, in spite of the threats of the sentries, got near enough to the Admiral’s vessel to ena ble their occupants to see the pale face of the unfortunate prisoner atone of the cabin windows. The story of Or lof’s audacity and treachery became known at Pisa and at Florence, and the Grand Huke of Tuscany protested vig orously against the act of violence com mitted within his realm. But the Rus sian Court paid no attention to Ilia pro tests. The day after her arrest Orlof went to see sir John Hick, and asKed for some books for the. Princess to read. He look ed pale and excited, said the English consul afterwards,—and he well might be. The next day the Russian fleetput to seaj but Orlof set out for Bt. Peters burg by land. This was in the second week of March, 1775. Before very long the fleet arrived off Plymouth, and remained at anchor there for some little time. It was dur ing this stay in English waters that the poor woman whom Orlof had betrayed first learned his perfidy. Up to that moment she had remained tolerably calm, always hoping that he would manage to rescue her. But at last, while the vessel lay in Plymouth har bor, the full truth was revealed to her, and she was made aware that OrloPs love for her had been feigned through out ; that he had all along been merely leading her on to her fate, and that he had now gone to Russia in order to claim his reward for having ensnared her. Ami this was the man who had professed such tender devotions to her whom she had so fondly, so blindly loved. After the first stunning Influ ence of the shock had passed away, she made a desperate attempt to escape. An English vessel was lying alongside the Russian man-of-war on board of which she was confined, and she tried, but tried In vain, to get to It. Then she at tempted .to fling herself into the sea, aud was only withheld from doing so by force. On two or three different oc casions she tried to drown herself, and at last Admiral Greig was obliged to quit Plymouth Roads eooner than he had intended, so nervous was he about the proceedings of his now desperate prisoner,:- On the 29th of April the Russian fleet reached the Bound, and on the 22d of May cast anchor ott'Cronstadt. On the 4th of June an officer named Tolstoi was sent for by the Governor of Bt. Petersburg, Field-Marshal Galitsin, and having been sworn toeternal secrecy on a copy of the Gospels, was sent to Cron studt to reueieve Admiral Grelg’s pris oner, and to convey her to the Petro pavlovsky fortress at Bt. Petersburg. Silently, by night, the vessel which bore Tolstolon his errand dropped down to Cronstadt. During the ensuing day thatofficer remained iu concealment on board the Admiral’s flag-ship. J The fol owing night, while all on board the surrounding shipping and all the In habitants of the neighboring shores were fast asleep, his vessel silently made Its way back up tbe stream to St. Peters burg. Before the suu rose on the oth ol Juno Tolstoi had handed his prison er over to the commandant of the Pe- tropavlovsky fortress, who conducted her to one of the casemates in the Al exief ravelin. During the month of June the nights are delicious at St. Petersburg. The air is full of a kind of magic light, and long after the sun has sunk beneath the hori zon, and long before it reappears, the sky is tinged with delicate pink and amber hues on which the eye is never tired of gazing. Seen from thoopposlte side of the river, the waters of which are bright with reflected llghtand color, the fortress, with its long, low walls and its tall and graceful spire, rises dark against the eastern sky. Very dark and dreary it must have seemed then to that unfortunate woman, who, just as the sunlight began to fall on the gilded domes and Bpires of the sleeping city, passed within the granite wails of that prison-house from which she was des tined fiever to emerge. As soon as Catharine heard that her enemy waß at last in her power, she ordered her to be subjected to a close examination, in hopes that some light might be thrown upon the intrigues with which she had been connected, and the supposed conspirators of whom she had been the tool or the ally. Ac cordingly Prince Galitsin examined and cross'examined her and her fellow prisoners,—for her Polish followers were also lodged in the fortress, though not allowed access to her,—but without arriving at any satisfactory result. She maintained that Bhe did not know who her parents were, that Bhe had been at first brought up in Kiel, but at nine years old was taken away into the in terior of Russia, where some one gave her poison, from the effects of which she suffered for more than a year; that she was then sent to Bagdad, where a rich Persian took charge of her till she was eleven when she was removed to Ispahan, wheie she passed under the care of a Persian prince, who told her that she was the daughter of the late Empress Eliza beth of Russia. That at the age of seventeen the Prince took her to Rus sia, and thence to Germany and Eng land. That she spent two years with him in London, and afterwards went to Paris, and that she soon afterwards met the Prince of Limburg, to whom she became betrothed. All these statements she repeated many times, and it was found Impossi ble to obtain any other story from her. This obstinacy on her part bo greatly Irritated the Empress that she wrote to Galitsin, telling him to have recourse to “rigorous measures” in his treat ment of the prisoner. Accordingly, he gave orders that she should be put upon prison fare, and have only justas much of that as was necessary to sustain life; that her servant-maid Bhould be denied access to her, and that an officer and two soldiers should be stationed day and night in her cell. These orders were carried into effect. For two days and two nights she underwent the indignity of being continually watched by guards, who never quitted her for a moment. All the time too, she passed without taking food ; for the gruel and cabbage-soup, which were served up to her in wooden bowls, were so revolting that she could not touch them. Mean time her health became rapidly worse; the cough from which she had been suffering for some time increased, and she began to spit blood. At last, by Bigns, she managed so explain that she wished to send a letter to the Governor, and writing materials were supplied to her. On receiving her letter, which contained a pathetic appeal to nis feel ings and those of the Empress, Galitsin paid her a visit, and again tried to ex tract some information from her as to her accomplices, but without success, although he went so far as to threaten herwith “extrememeasures.” Onleav ing her cell he told herthat she must not expect any mitigation of the hardships she had lately endured, though in real ity his heart was touched by her suffer ings. Galitsin was a man of more than usual kindliness, and could not bear to see a young and attractive woman—one. moreover, accustomed to an easy ana luxurious life —exposed to such suffer ings and such indignities as she had to undergo. She was also evidently in a state of such physical and mental pros tration, that her life did not seem likely to be much prolonged; and so, in spite of the distinct commands of the Em press, he found' himself incapable of continuing the “rigorous measures” which had proved so fruitless, Before quitting the fortress he gave orders that the severity of her treatment should be mitigated, and that the sentries should no longer be stationed inside her room. Meantime her. two Polish fellow prisoners had been examined by Galit sin, and every means taken to obtain some useful confession from them. One of them, Homanski by name, declared that it was merely love for her that made him follow in her train, and that even now, if Bhe would marry him, he should consider himself the happiest of men, even though he had to spend the rest of his life in a prison. Some hope seems to have been held out to him of the possibility of such marriage, and Galitsin suggested the idea to the Prin cess, —If we may be allowed still to give her that title; but she treated it with contempt, saying that Homanski was far too contemptible and uneducated a man for her to think of as a husband, even if she were not bound by her plighted troth to the Prince of Limburg. Galitsin then tried to obtain a confes sion from her by promising that, if she would say what her origin really was, she should be allowed to go back to her betrothed in Germany. For a time she seemed to waver in her denial of all knowledge of her history, and promised to send Galitsin a full account of her self; but when the paper which he thought would contain it arrived, there was no new information in it. Whether she really had rone to give, or whether she distrusted Galitsin’s promises, is not known. . AU that is certain is, that nothing more was ever learnt from her respecting her former career. About this time, tradition states, Or lof came to see her, and a stormy inter view ensued. The story is not at all probable, and it is to be hoped that it is not true. But what is certain is, thatja little later in the month of .November, she bore her betrayer a eon. The child was christened in the pris on, and it is said that it thrived, and eventually grew up to man’s estate, and became an officer of rank in the Russian service. Anyhow, its mother did not long survive its birth. Her strength had altogether given- way under her sufferings. For she had suffered much, and yet had been treated with much of the old severity. The soldiers had been brought back into her room, in spite of the pathetic appeals she made to the Empress, saying, as she well might, that the constant presence of men be sideher “shocked her womanly nature.” The consumption which had seized on her made rapid progress, her cough be came worse and worse, and at last she lay down to die. A priest was sent for, who exhorted her, as upon the three : old of the grave, to make full confession of her sins against the Empress. But she Btill maintained that In this respect she was not to blame, and the priest at last left her without giving her absolu tion. On the loth of December, 1775, she died, carrying with her to the grave the secret of her birth. The next day the soldiers, some of whom had stood by her bedside till she drew her last breath, dug a deep hole in the ground within the walls of the fortress, and burled in It the body of the unfortunate adventur ess. No funeral rites were performed over her grave. Catharine’s revenge was complete. Two years later occurred the terrible inundation of 1777. when the Neva rose to such a height tnat the casemates of the Petropavlovsky fortress were sub merged under Jts waters. In spite of of the secrecy which had been preserved with respect to the so-called Princess, rumors had got about that a daughter of the Empress Elizabeth was kept in esnfinement in the fortress, and after the inundation a story gained credence that she had been forgotten or intention ally deserted In her cell, and so had been drowned by the rising tide. Two years more passed by, and the cell In which the adventuress died re ceived another Inmate. This was a young Guardsman namedVinsky, who bad become compromised in some po litical conspiracy, and who was ultl mately exiled to Orenburg. While oc cupying his prison quarters in the for tress, he amused decipher ing tbe Inscriptions which tbe previous inmates had left on the walls. One day he observed some writing on one of tbe panes In the window, and on closer in spection he made out the words, “ O mio Dio!” which had evidently been scratched with a diamond on the glass. The warder told him that they mußt have been the handiwork of a young and beautiful lady who had occupied the cell four years before. This was the last trace which remained of her existence, unless a little mound be taken into consideration, which, as late as the year 1828, was still visible in the garden of the fortress, and which was said to mark the Bpot where, at the end of her restless ana wasted career, Or lofs victim at last found repose. Who she really was. and what was the secret of her early lire, are problems which to this day remain unsolved. Anclcot BabylonlanJDocamcnts, It Beemß as if the endeavors made at different times and places to extend our knowledge of sacred history, geography and topography, were about to be large ly increased. The general interest in these subjects has been manifested by the support given to explorations in the East, the survey of Palestine and the Jeninsula of Sinai, the excavations at eruß&lem, and the welcome shown to the researches of scholars. These re searches, as stated by Sir Henry Raw linson to the Royal Asiatic Society, have brought to light a series of facts, of the highest importance, : out of the historical (documents col ; lected at Nineveh; namely, the Sorlpture history as contained in the Book of Genesis from the time of Abra ham, narrating nearly the same partic ulars. Sir Henry himself is at work on a paper in which It will be shown that the natural name of Babylon was the Garden of Eden, the rivers being de scribed by the same names as in Scrip ture. And further, that these ancient Babylonian documents furnish an ac count of the Flood and of the building of the Tower of Babel. All this seems little less than wonderful. Who would have expected to find Biblical history in the Inscribed cylinders and bricks from the banks of the Euphrates, as well as in the ancient Hebrew and other oriental manuscripts l Can SnrfCTlilngs ? That while the despot of France is open ing tbe prison doors to political offenders, and granting universal amnesty to other classes of prisoners, can it be that you, Canby, in this free republic, have the con science to Insist upon tbe rigid application of a form of oath—giving your own inter pretation thereto, by the way—that was only intended for operation at a certain oriucal period, now long since passed and gone? verily, there seems to be more justice and moderation in imperial Fxanoe than republican Virginia under thy rule, Canby I—N, F. Herald, The Doctor of Bra!. There was once a countryman who, by dint of hard labor and the exercise of great prudence, had amassed a suffi ciency of means. Besides lots of wheat and a large quantity of wine, hehad no less than eight oxen and four horses in his stables. Notwithstanding his com fortable position, however, he would not marry. His friends and neighbors reproached him with his celibacy, but he excused himselfbysayiugthat when he came across the kind of a woman he wanted he would marry her. His friends, to help him, resolved to search about for such a woman. There lived a 'few miles off an old chevalier, a widower and very poor, who bad a beautiful and clever daugh ter. The girl was old enough to be married, but as it happened that the father had nothing to give her, nobody ever thought it worth his while to woo her. The friends of the countryman having presented themselyes before the old chevalier, he speedily yielded com pliance to their wishes; and the girl, who was good and would not disobey her father, found herself forced to com ply. The countryman was delighted at the prospect of such an alliance. He determined to lose no time, and pressed the marriage forward with ail haste. Hardly, however, were they married, than he perceived that he had made a great mistake—that, in ashort, he could uot have done anythlpg more foolish than to take to himself such a wife. When, for instance, he was working out in the fields, what would his wife do, she was so accustomed tositat home in idleness? He knetv, besides, that the priest, to whom every day was Sunday, would not scruple to bo with her as often as it suited him. What, then, would become of the stupid hus band? And yet, what was the stupid husband to do ? “ If, In the morniDg,” he thought to himself, “I pick a quarrel and strike her, she will cry all day through. Now whilst she is crying it is certain that she will not be in the humor to listen to talk of any gallants. When I return I will be quits with herby asking her pardou, and I know how that is to beobtuiued.” Fired with thissplendid idea heloud ly called for dinner. When the meal was concluded, he approached his wife and struck her such a blow upon her face that the marks of his fiugers re mained imprinted on her cheek. Nor was this all. Faucyiug he had not given her cause to cry long enough, he hit her four or five more blowsfoml then went out iuto the fields. The poor little creature fell to crying very piteously, and with her handslaid crosswise on her bosom loud'y lameute J her hard fate. “Oh, father !” shecried, “why did you give mo to such a man ? Had we not bread to eat, poor as we were? Why was Iso blind as to con sent to such a marriage? O beloved mother! had I not lost you I would not have been so unhappy. What will be come of me !” She remained inconsola ble throughout fhe entire day, crying, as her husband had anticipated, until hi 9 return. Then his first effort was to conciliate her. “It was the devil who tempted me to strike you,” he exclaimed. He swore never again to raise his hand to her, he threw himself at her feet and begged her pardon with so humble and dejected an air, that the wife, touched with pity, promised to forget everything that had happened. But the countryman, who saw how successful was his stratagem, resolved to put it into execution again. On rising the following morning he once mare picked a quarrel with his wire, aud repeated the performance of the preceding day. Then he went, forth to his work. The poor little woman felt now that this treatment was to be her fate, and once more began to cry pite ously. Whilst In this mournful condition, there rode up to her door two king’s messengers, each mounted on a white horse. They saluted her in the name oft.he king, and asked her for some thing to eat. They weredying of hun ger, they said. She set before them all that she had in the house to oiler, and whilst they were eating, begged them to tell her whither they were journey ing. “ Wo are not journeying anywhere in particular,” said they. “The truth is, we are searching for a skilful doctor, and we meau to travel even into Eng land should we not find one here. Ada, the kiDg’s daughter, is ill. Eight days ago, whilst eating some fish, a bone stuck in her throat, and left her inca pable of swallowing. livery remedy tnat can be suggested ha* been applied to her, but without avail. She can neither eatnor sleep, and hersufierings are terrible. The king, who is in des pair, has ordered us to search about for some one capable of curing the princes. If he looses her he will die.” “ You have no need to travel any fur ther,” exclaimed the wife. “I know the very man you waut. He is a great doctor.” “Is it possible? You aie not deceiv ing us?” “ No, I am telling you the truth ; but, unfortunately, the doctor of whom 1 speak is a very singular sort of person. He is slightly touched iu tire head, I fear. Although he lias an extraordi nary genius for medlcin'e, he seems to thoroughly detestthe science. My own Impression Is that unless you beat him heartily you will not get him to act for you.” “Oh!” they answered, “if ho only needs cudgelliug, we’ll give it to him. He couldu’t be iu better Lauds. Only tell us where lie lives.” The wife Indicated the fields In wlileh tbe husband was working, and wishing them farewell, entreated them not to forgot the essential condition of their undertaking. They thanked lier, aud arming themselves each with a big stick, made towards the countryman.— Having aaluterihira, they Informed him that they came from the king, and com manded him to follow them. “ What for?” he asked. “ To cure the Princess Ada. We have heard of your skill, and we have come to fetch you in the king’s name. The countrymau replied that he was only a laborer, and if the king wanted his services in that capacity, he would be happy to devote them to him. But as to medicine, he swore ou his honor that he knew nothing at oil about it. “ I see,” whispered oue of the king’s messengers to the other, “that civility will not succeed here. lie evidently wants to be beaten,” Haying this he alighted from his horse, the other followed him, and grasping their sticks they commenced beatingthecountryman with thehearti est zest. The hopeless laborer com menced by roaring at them for their cowardice —two to one—and their cruel ty ; but llnding them toostrong forhlm, he threw himself upon hie knees and 1 swore to obey them. They thereupon mounted him upon one of the white horses and conducted him thus to the palace of the king. The illness of the princess had tLrown the king into a state bordering upon dis traction. The return of the two mes sengers inspired him with hope, and he ordered them to be conducted into his presence that he might learn how suc cessful they bad been intbeiriuquiries. Having sounded the praises of the wonderful but eccentric doctor, tney then proceeded to narrate how they had found and the method they had em ployed to capture him. “I confess,” said the king, “that I never heard of a doctor like this before. But since it Is necessary that he should be beaten before he will cure the prin cess, lethim be beaten.” Havingordered the princess to descend, he bade the countryman to approach him. “My friend,” he said. “ this Is the lady whom you must cure.” The wretched countryman threw him self upon his knees and begged for mercy, swearing by ali that was holy that he knew nothing whatever of mediclDe. The only reply of the king was to signal to two tali sergeants who were standing by armed with sticks. They made a dart at the countryman, and seizing him by the arms, rained upon him a perfect shower of blows. “Mercy! mercy!” he yelled. “I’ll cure her, sire; I’ll cure her.” The princess stood before him pale and dying, indicating her sufferings by pointing with her Anger down her open mouth. The countryman began to ponder within himself how he should affect this cure. He plainly saw that there was no backing out of it, bubthat he must either succeed or perish irpaa flogging. “The bone,” said to himself, “is in the throat. If I could only succeed in making her laugh, the chances are that I might dislodge it.” Impressed with this notion, he re** quested the king to order a large Are to be lighted in the hall, and further de~ sired to be left alone with the princess. When the hall was deserted he partly undressed her, told her to seat herself near the fire, and commenced tickling her, making all the time such hideous grimaces that in spite of her suffering the princess suddenly burst out into a shout of laughter. At tbe same instant the bone flew out of her throat and fell upon the floor. Picking it up, the coun tryman flew to the door crying, “ Sire, sire, here it is! here it is! ” “I owe you my life!” cried theking, in a transport of joy. And he promised to give him in reward for his services handsome presents of gowns and cloaks. It was a custom among the kings and and princess of that period to make presents of cloaks and dresses at Michaelmas and Christmas to the no bility attached to their courts. Some times the acceptance of these presents was interpreted into a willingness to enter into one year’B service with the king who offered them. A Chevalier thus apparelled was called a chevalier Rqi. The countryman thanked him. He declared, however, that he only wanted permission to return tohls home, feigning that his business greatly need ed his presence. In vain the king offer ed him his friendship and entreated him to remain. He answered that he was pressed ; that when he left there was positively no bread in the house, and that it was imperative that he should carry wheat to the mill. But on a sig nal from the king which brought the two sergeants about him again, the countryman cried for mercy, promising to remain not only a day but forever, if he were desired. Thereupon they con ducted him Into a room in which he was washed and shaved and habited in a magnificent scarlet cloak. All thlß time, however, he was meditating a plan to escape, and comforted himself with believing that a practical oppor tunity would soon be presented. The cure he had effected achieved for him in no time a great reputation. No sooner had it been noised abroad than upwards ofc-eighty sick persons belong ing to the town presented themselves st the gates of the chateau, and be sought the king to put in a good word for them with the doctor. The king having called him. “My friend,” said he, “ I recommended these persons to your notice. Cure them all at onoe, as I wish to send them back again to their homes.” “ Biro” replied the countryman, ‘ un less heaven cures them I cannot. There are too many,” “ Let the two sergeants be brought,” exclaimed the king. At the approach of these two formida ble persons the poor wretch, trembling in every limb, volunteered not only to cure the eighty sick persons, but the whole world in the bargain, even to the last man. He begged the king and all those who were iu good health to leave the hall as they had done before. Being left alone with the sick, he ranged them all round the fire-place, in which he made a tremendous fire. “My friends,” he said, addressing them with great solemnity, “it Is no trifling favor to accord, that of giving health to so many people In so short a time. There is only one way that I know of effecting ageneral cure amongst you, and that is, of choosiDg the one who is most seriously ill and throwing him into the fire. When he is con sumed, the ashes will be distributed amongst you all to swallow. The rem edy is extreme, but I’ll stake my head on the result.” Saying this he sternly contemplated the surrounding crowd, as If examining their condition. Rut amongst them all there was notone who for the whole of Normandy would have allowed that this malatly was serious. Tbe doctor addressing oue of them, exclaimed, "You are looking paleandill; you seem to 'have the most serious disorder of them all.” “I, sire? On my word, I never felt better in my life than I do at this mo ment.” “Then what do you want here, you villian !” cried the doctor. Without answering, the sick man opened the door and took to his heels. The king, who was outside, perceived the sick man leave the hall. “Are you cured?,’ he asked* “Yes, sire.” A moment after another sick man appear ed. “Andyou?” “I am cured.” What was the result of this man oeuvre ? There was not a single soul, old or young, male or female, who would consent to being reduced to ashes. All left, Bwearing they were all cured. The delighted king returned to the hall to congratulate the doctor. He was amazed and filled with admiration at the skill that in so short a time could work so many miracles, “ Sire,”exclaimed the doctor, “Ihavo an amulet possessed of a wondrous vir tue with which I work my cures.” The king overwhelmed him with pre sents. He assured him of bis eternal friendship, and permitted him to re turn to his wife, on condition, however, that when he was wanted he should not be urged to come only by tbe use of the stick. “The countryman now bade adieu to the king. He had now no longer any occasion to be a laborer; and no longer, therefore, cared to beat his wife.’ To his dying day,however, he noverknewhow he had been made a doctor. Lord Byron’s Last Days. In parting with Lord Byron it is some relief to casta glimpse or light upon a very dark picture. Though he con tinued to breathe bitter words against Lady Noel down to the time of her death, yet for three years before hlsown denth, ho seems to have ceased (a single lustuucQ excepted) to write or sneak un kindly of itls wife. The first four and the eighth stanzas of his beautiful verses auggest that the unholy bonds which bad held him were looked. In the re cord of tho last ten days of his life the lady from whom h©4jad parted at Genoa is not named. In the Intervals of un consciousness his thoughts turned to her whom he had wronged. On the day that he sailed from Geuoa toward Greece ho regretted that he bad not first gone to Koglaml. “ Why did I not go home before I came here?" On the same day, when he knew that lie was dying, he was most anxious to make Fletcher, his old servant, under stand his last wishes. The servant asked whether heshould bring pen and paper to take down his words. “ Oh, uo," he Bald,.“it is now nearly over. Go to my sister —tell her—. Go to Lady Byron; you will see her, aud t-ay—.” His voice faltered, and he con tinued to mutter to himself for nearly twenty minutes with much earnestness, concluding, “Now I have told you all.” “My lord,” said Fletcher, “I have not uuderstood a word you have been say ing.” “Not understood me?" saldßy ron with a look of the utmost distress, What a pity ! Then lb is too late; all is over.” “Ihopenot,”anBweredFletcher; “but the Lord’s will be done.” “Yea, not mine,” he said, and tried to utter a few words, of which all'were inarticu late except “my sister, my child.” He was most UDbappy in the choice of a biographer. Mr. Moore was unable to perceive tho injury that he inflicted upou Lord Byron in giving a fixed habitation to his changing fancies of anger and remorse without re pentance, or the danger which, In the very whirlwind of his passion, he had always avoided, of enforcing Lady Byron to break silence. If Sir Walter Scott, who was empatlcally a man, could huye undertaken the task, he would not have called up his friend to tell from the grave, with joyouß voice, the foul sensuality of Venice ; he woulu not have collected darts, which lay scattered abroad and harmless, to pierce a woman’s heart. Such were not the messages which the husband, if God had given him utterance, would have sent from his death-bed. It Is difficult to believe that Moore had not personal resentment against Lady Byron, and as difficult to understand how the utmost •degree of resentment could persuade any man to insult any woman so dar ingly.— Temple Bar. LnrgoiSaleiol Land. Mr. W. H. Keith has sold to Mr. W. G. Ford, of Memphis, Tennessee, 3,000 acres ot land In the centre of the town oflallp, Long Island, N. Y.,runningabouttwo and abatf miles along the South Side Railroad, belDg about three and tbree-qnarters miles in width. The soil is good, and haying rail road communication on both sides makes the position very desirable. Mr. Ford, the purchaser, is regarded as the largest real estate owner in the United States, and pro poses to erect a village forthwith. The hind was sold at $5O an acre.— N. Y Tribune. J»The American Association for the ad vancement of Sdenoe began its IBth annual session, at Salem, Mass,, yesterday. About 250 members were present. A report on the eclipse Is expected to be read* NUMBER 34 Mosco’s ictomatoD I have got a hard and heavy head; it’s like wood. I don’t tblnk I ever think; and don’t know as I ever did, except about nothing; and I often set doing that for hours at a time. “ You blockhead!” father he ses to me (which is a shipwright,) “you’re only fit to cut up into a figure head, ynp great, hungry, hulking, wooden-headaT lubber you;” for he had put me to loti) of trades, and it was no use; everybody said I had no head-piece,—no, not for going errands, nor giving away hand bills even. It’s no good dunning things into my head, for the only thing I ever could remember Is meal times. Noth ing I eat hurts me, and nothing don't seem to do me any good. Nothing makes me laugh nor puts me out of temper. The only, thing ever I see makes me feel like laughing is meal 9, and then I’ve got something better to do; and the only thing makes me feel like getting out of temper is getting out of bed of mornings to chop wood; but when you are out of bed, you may as well chop wood as do anything else, for aught I know. The snail gets to his bed as quick as the swallow, and don't get near so tired. Well, there wasa conjurer chap came into our town —a brisk lively sort of chap that could talk like a pump, in a regular stream. He see me loailug about, and give me an order to see his show, providing I would go up on the platform to hold some things for him. I went up, and did what he told me. It seemed to amuse the people very much for they laughed themselves nearly into fits, and said : “Did ever you see a man keep his countenance like him ?” and, Just as if he was cut out of wood.” Now, unless a man sees something to laugh at, he has got no call to laugh— ana that’s why I didn’t. After it was over, the conjurer chap come to me. and see : “I never see your living equal. You must be used to the public, not to mind them auy more than as if you was a stone idol ?" “I never see the public before,” I ses. “You didn't?” ses he. “No,” Ises. “ Wei), look here,” ho goes on, “I don’t mind standing you half a crown if you’ll tell me what you was a-th inking of when the public was screaming with laugbingat you.” “ Victuals,” I makes answer. “Come and have some aloug with me,” he replies, “for I think I can put you in the way of getting them regu lar.” So I did. Next day he goes to see my father. “Your son has a wonderful talent, sir.” “Hang his talent,” sea my father: “it’s a pity he can’t use it on any oilier tool than a knife and fork !” “ A natural gift, sir, for not laughing at anything, such as I never see before out of the reserved seats. The questiou is, could he be depended upon always to keep his countenance as he did last night?” “ I never see him smile in my life,” father makes reply, “ nor get angered, nor put out; in fact, I never see him take notice of anything. There's no mistake he can keep his countenance, which is a good deal more than his coun tenance ’ll ever do for him.” “ I don’t know so much about that,” the conjurer ses, “ for I’m open to give him two pound a week and his board, if he’ll sign articles with me for twelve months.” “And what is he to do?” ses my father. “Nothing, —except to be looked at, and that won't hurt him, I suppose?” “Well,” father ses to me, f ‘ls it a bargain ?” “I don’t care,” I sea. So I joined the Bhow. The public is an obstinate lot, for when you laugh, they won’t; but if you set your face against laughing, or if you’ve got no call to laugh, through not seeing anything to laugh at, they will laugh like mad,— leastways so I've found it. Signor Mosco was the conjurer’s Dame, or, at any rate, the one he went by in public. He was called a pretty good hand, but Tcouldn’t see much In what he did. I knew where the bulleta went to when he made believe to ram them Into a pistol with a barrel like an ear trumpet. I stuffed the gold watch in the half-quartern loaves, and ironed out the ladies’ and gentlemen’s pocket handkerchiefs,while he was pretending to burn them. It’s surprising what lit tle things amuse the public. I used to tell ’em so, when Mosco had done one of his best tricks, but they only grinned and said, “ Lord, how he does keep his countenance!, and, “What a nerve he must have to be sure I” There was the hat trick. The tins, and the feathers, and things look a good deal when they are all thrown about, but they took up no room scarcely when I’d put ’em together, ready for use. And as to rolling two rabbits into one, what was these to surprise me, knowiug all along very well what was become of the second rabbit, when I shouldn’t have took on very much even if he had rolled ’em into one, except it was at dinner time. There was the decapitated head and the basket trick, and the mugic ilowers, and the woman setting on nothing, which was culled Mecca. Well, I see the looking-glasses and the false bottoms, let alone the legs of the decap itated head; and, consequently, I couldn’tsee anything in any of it. The»e was only one partof the entire performance that ever I could seo any thing in, and that was, os the bills put it: “The Marvellous Mechanical Man or Wooden Automaton, on whoso con struction no less than twenty five years have been expended, to bring it to its present perfection as the greatest won der of the age.” First of all, there was a large box, or pedestal, for the figure to stand on con taining the works which was carried off the stage, and into the centre of the reserved seats. It had a winch, to turn with a handle like a bed post key, to wind up the man, and whenjwouud up made a noise like an engine getting up steam, which was the works runuing down. Then the man was broughtdown ofT the stage, carried upright by four strong fellows. His feet were fastened to a round wooden stand like children's Boldiersstand on, in which was a worm for the great screw on the top of the pedestal. When brought down, he wus hoisted up on the pedestal, and turned round aud round until screwed on. There were a great many tubes, and wires, and levers connecting the ngure with the box, and sticking out round It, which looked very curious, and, besides, showed the working parts. But a worse finished man no one ever see at a tobac conist’s shop-door, which made it the more singular his doing what lie did. About his neck and the back of his head the paint was wore ofi‘, showing the bare wood; and the same with the point of his nose, which was splintered ; and likewise his hands, which were glued and cracked. Signor Mosco used to explain this had occurred in packing, and that he would repair the injuries. But it seemed as if it always did occur in packing, for the injuries never were repaired. Then, as to his complexion, it would have been a dis grace to any house-painter. It was red and whitewash, varnished,and done so badly, that it looked as if you could see the grain of the wood through the paint. I’ve often asked Signor Mosco why he did n’t paint his automaton better, but he only grinned, and said. “How pro -1 clous green you are, ain’t you ?” 1 Everybody who see the man used to : say; “How stupid of Signor Mosco, ‘ after makiDg such a clever figure, not ’ to have spent a pound or two in finish -1 lng it properly, Instead of leaving it ’ Buch a clumsey wooden scarecrow.” The newspapers, too, used to speak \ most disrespectful of the man ; like this ; which I’ve cut out: “Signor Mosco revisited our town with his Interesting exhibition last week. His remarkably skilful feats of pretldigltation were the admiration of large and fashionable audiences. To the other attractions of his entertainment, the professor of the qtalck-flngered art has now added what he is pleased to term The Marvellous Mechanical Man. The performances of this automaton are particularly olever, but it belies its name. It might with more correctness be termed a figure, for it la so roughly constructed as to bear no more resem blance to humanity than the effigies which are carried through our streets on the sth November. We cannot help thinking that if Signor Mosco would devote a little more pains to the finish of hta wooden effigy, and to concealing some of the cords and levers by which the life like motions are too obviously oonveyed to the limbs, the illusion would be rendered more complete.” ' So far from being angiy at reading - ttATE Op ADVERTISING. Bcjhikess *ADVTcnrra*inarw, $l2 a ye*rp4* qntre of ten Unes; tQ per year for each ad ditional square. Rial estate Advemtsirg, lOcenta'a llne’for tbedrst,and scents for eaohsubseqnent In sertion. ~ • • General Advebtisirg 7 cents a line for the first, and 4 oeDt* for each subsequent lnsei> tion. Special Notices Inserted in Local Column 15 cents per line. - Special Notices preceding marriages and deaths, 10 cents per line for first Insertion! and 5 cents for every subsequent insertion*! Legal akt> oth kb notices-* Executors’ 2.60 Administrators* 2^o Assignees’ notices, 2.60 AadUors* notices, „... 2.00 Other “Notices, ’ten lines, or less, Z three times .. ..... 1.50 such notices, Signor Mosco always used to chuckle am! slap me on the back, and want to know why I did n't laugh too. I ees, very naturally : “Because I don't see anything to laugh at." — “Well," says he, “ you are a eure, you are, and the biggest I ever see." But that figure only got worse, and more shabby aud rickety, the moro that was said about It, until at last, when* ever the men used to carry the automa ton to his pedestal, ono of its arms would drop oil’. The professor always said it was au unforeseen accideut, nnd apologized for it. But it was au un foreseen accident tlmt used regularly to occur every evening, aud get apologized for. Aud what was another singular thing, the wor?o the figure was, aud the more rickety he got, the more clever people thought his performance was. Well, when the Mechanical Man was screwed down on the pedestal for his performance, Signor Mosco would com mence with a short leoture on the pow ers of the lever, the screw, aud the pul ley, and the spiral spring. He would then go and wind up the machiue, with the handle like a i>ed-wreuch. It made a great clatter, aud Jtook a loug while to wiud, owing to the power of theapring. When he had done the whole concern began to go "Cr-r r-rr," and kept ou going so all the time, round through one side of the pedestal, which was of gluts. Tho professor would then striae sharply with his wand, and pull a cord that worked the levers of the au tomaton's head. “Wako, Francisco!” ses he; ami Francisco, which was tho wooden figure, begins to move his head, very slow, first from right to left, - then from left to right. Then Signor Mosco pulls another string, and Francisco opens hlseyes, very gradually, or (juick, according as tho string is pulled. Then It would be : “Raise the right nrm, and sulute the company" ; which the figure would do, rather Htiirand jerky, butstlll he did It. That stillness uml jsrkiness of tho movements (and they were all like that) was what people seemed dis posed to grumble at. “We want to seo 'em a llttlo more airy and graceful," the public ses. “Ladies and gentle men," ses the Signor, “what can you expect from machinery ‘.’" which was very true. “But to show you tho com mand I havo over the automaton when at a distan.ee from It, I will now return to the stage, after simply pressing a spring in the figure's buck, and, hitting belore the index board connected with the figure, I will enable you to put Us abilities to the test." 1 lo sat at a small table in front of the stage, where there was a board like a draught-board, but covered all over with kuobs. People were then to question tho automaton. Tho figure did num bers and counting, by slowly jerking up its right hand as many times us was wanted. “Yes" ami “.No" he did with his head, by bending it for “ Yes" and shaking it for “ No," aud this way he would tell fortunes and ages quite equal to a learned pig or an educated pouey. Indeed, there was no end lo the questions lie could answer, aud they were very often right, which was a wonder fur machinery. Francisco used to finish up by whirling his arms round like the wooden sailors do ou weather-cocks, nnd he would keep on till the professor touched a button and stopped tho works when his arms would remain sticking straight up, until a string was pulleu to let them down, aud even then they would still keep on swinging backwards and forwards for u bit. There were some people wanted tho automaton to do more, but tho Hig nor said it couldn’t be done, not by ma chinery. In due lime, as wo went round tho provinces, we come back again to the town where my father lived. I was against goiDg thereat all. I told Hig norMoacoso; and I did n’t want him to show the Mechanical Man there, as I told him they were n’t good Judges of machinery In that place. But ho would n’t listen, and so tho automaton was done there the first night. Wo had got about half-way through his per formance, and the professor had gone on to the stage, whilst Francisco was answering questions. There is mostly a crowd of people round the figure at such times, but to-night there wus a wiry old mau pressing his way closo up to the wooden effigy, and looking Into its eyes, “ Now, air, unit you keep your hands oft* that figure, if you please,—do you hear me?" Signor Mosco ses. “ Mother!" the old man bawls out to his wife, taking no notice,—only laugh ing fit to split,—“mother! come here, I tell ye,—l'm blowed if they havou’t been and made a figure head of our Bill!" “ / could n’t see anything to laugh at, for it was two pound a week and victuals out of my pocket, let alone tho exposure. A Fnuornl IntorrnploU by »u Juwurnnco On Tuesday afternoon a peculiar utni somewhat startling episode occurred at a funoral curomony In Allegheny, opposite Pittsburgh, Pa. A hoarse followed by a long liuo of carriages had drawn up In front of a dwelling. Tho house was filled with friends, who had gathered In pay the last tribute of respect to the memory of tho de parted. Kvorythlng wan in reudlnerfk for the commencement of tho services, when suddenly an unexpected and somewhat mysterious Interruption interfered will) tho exercises. The Interruption was caused by the entrance of an ollicer, clothed with legal uuthoniy, who announced that tho funeral could not proceed unljluti Inquest, had been held on tho remains, Koch a strange oc currence naturally caused Intense ex'llo merit ami required an explanation, which wus given as follows: About u year ago policies In three Insurance Companies to the amount of $27,000 wero taken out on tho lile of Conrad Gorbiioh, re siding at No. 120 Ohlosreut, Allegheny, whose romulns were about to bo In terred- Conrad, so far as known, was In sound health and stout, and about •l'i years of age. He was a cotton-spinner by trade. He was living with his second wife. Tho policies wero all taken out In Moslem com panies, umi wero for S2,(J<JU, SS.UUU, and $20,- 000 respectively. About a month ami a half ugo he was taken suddenly sick, when a physician was called In who prescribed lor him. lie recovered, hut subsequently had one or two attacks, the last ot which put an end to his life Kolurduy evening or .Sunday morning. In tho mean time a ru mor, luint at first, but growing as only n rumor of falsehood can grow, got nfiout that something was wrong. Tho rumor seemed to 1)0 based on the allegation that us the prerniumson tho policies amounted to near ly $2,000 per year, it was Impossible for tho deceased to pay the mime from his limited earnings, from which it was argued that some person Interested bad advanced tho amount and eventually aided In getting him the way. Jl was asserted that Monrad never hud paid the money himself, an acquaintance uud one of tho supposed in terested pnrt3|havlng;given hischocK for tho greater part. Another point alleged was Hiul the • moused had been visited by the Insurance Agent a few days subsequent to his death, when he stuted lie know nothing about any insurance outside tho $2,000 pol icy ; that the others. If obtulned at all, woro secured by some surreptitious means, or by u substitution of hohio other person for him. The uffair gained such a notoriety in tho neighborhood thut tho ugonts of tho soveral companies, in which tho deceased hud bean Insured, thought tho interests of tho family as well us their own demanded thut a full investigation be made. Tho funernl had boon urrunged to como ofT at 2 o’clock, and it Warn expected that tho wholo matter would be settled in a few minutes, but unfortunately they were so long In de ciding that tho ceremonies had to be Inter rupted. Aldermun Donaldson impaneled ajury and the inquest was proceeded with. Tho inquest reveuled nothing criminal, however, und tho verdict was rendered thut tho deceased died from nuturul causes. While the Inquest wus being bold, tho crowd of ppeciulors increased to such an extent that tho street was almost blockaded and us rumors of tho proceedings Inside wero whlspored around, tho excitement be came Intense. Ah tho jury vacated tho room, tho family of the deceased, entering, gathered around tho bier, and, unable longer to control their feeling, manifested their intent»o grief in passiouato sobs aud tears.— Pittsburg Uazette. Killed by Lfffbtnliiff. A lad namod Francis Wheeler was in stantly killed by lightning on Friday last. Tho New York Tribune says: “ The lad was In the company of two men and au older boy, engaged in fishing near the railroad bridge over Ilorton creok, be tween Utica and Richfield Springs, New York. To avoid tho rain the party took refugo under the abutments, where the planks protected them. There was no ap pearance of lightning until about balf-pnat twelve o’clock, when there was one vivid flash, and the only one during tho entire day. The boy Wheeler was sitting under an iron rod which supports the structure. The lightning passing through tho rod en tered the boy’s tenapTo, and passed down the left side to the heart. His companions felt the Bhock, and were stunned for a time. One of them had three of his fingers affected, while another lost consciousness fora time, and walked into the creek before he came to his senses.’’
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers