POETRY.-Mother, 290. The Season, 290. Sonnets, 290. On Adele, by Moonlight, 290. A Storm in Autumn, 290. Old King Coal, 327. Garibaldi, 335. Palace and Prison, 336. St. Peter without the Gates. 1862, 336. Saturday Evening, 336. SHORT ARTICLES.-Coating the Hulls of Iron Ships, 318. Greece: Internal Improvements, 318. First Paper Money in Europe, 321. Death of Adam, the BattlePainter, 321. Illinois Cotton, 330. Garibaldi's Letter to Great Britain, 333. The Manufacture of Flax in Prussia and Belgium, 333. Street Railways, 333. PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY LITTELL, SON, & CO., BOSTON. For Six Dollars a year, in advance, remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctually forrarded free of postage. Complete sets of the First Series, in thirty-six volumes, and of the Second Series, in twenty volumes, handsomely bound, packed in neat boxes, and delivered in all the principal cities, free of expense of freight, are for sale at two dollars a volume. ANY VOLUME may be had separately, at two dollars, bound, or a dollar and a half in numbers. ANY NUMBER may be had for 13 cents; and it is well worth while for subscribers or purchasers to complete any broken volumes they may have, and thus greatly enhance their value. MOTHER. BY THE REV. RALPH HOYT. Он, to the bosoms formed for love, As streams are formed to seek the sea, How bleak doth all existence prove, When the sought union-may not be: Arrested in its onward roll, A turbid pool, the tide, the soul. Can flowers that round its margin grow, The dead heart of the waters-leap! O heart, that like the dancing rill, But now all desolate,-undone ! In love's intensest, purest flame: Thy mother's home, yon radiant sphere; Fly, heart, to that dear faithful breast, That soothed thy infant sorrows here:My mother's love, my mother's prayer, Celestial wings,-oh, waft me there! THE SEASON. By the gusty thieves, So September endeth Cold, and most perverse; But the month that follows Sure will pinch us worse. -Thomas Hood. SONNETS. 1.-SAMUEL HOAR. "Victrix causa diis placuit, sed victa Catoni." A YEAR ago how often did I meet Under these elms, once more in sober bloom, Thy tall, sad figure pacing down the street,But now the robin sings above thy tomb. Thy name on other shores may ne'er be known, Though austere Rome no graver Consul knew; But Massachusetts her true son doth own,Out of her soil thy hardy virtues grew. She loves the man who chose the conquered cause, The upright soul that bowed to God alone, II. JOHN BROWN, OF OSSAWATTOMIE. IN thee still sternly lives our fathers' heart, For such as thou,-of Mayflower blood thou art, ON ADELE, BY MOONLIGHT. WITH What a glory and a grace The moonbeam lights her laughing face, And dances in her dazzling eye; As liquid in its brilliancy As the deep blue of midnight ocean, When underneath, with trembling motion, And blushes bright pass o'er her cheek, Her ruby lips half oped the while, From Punch. ELECTRIC SPARKS. AN IMAGINARY MELODRAMA, CONSTRUCTED PAPER CORRESPONDENTS. DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. Some youthful Clerks. Enter to them MR. MORVAYS HONT, a mild gentleman who wishes to send a message. 1st Clerk. I said so, didn't I?-twenty-four words. I have sent the sugar-candy-not this way, I say, no such luck. Thirty words— eight shillings. Is the house near the telegraph-station ? Mr. M. H. About three-quarters of a mile. 1st Clerk. Eighteen-pence porterage-nineand-six. Mr. M. H. Dear me, that is more than I expected. SCENE-An Electric Telegraph Office. Mr. M. H. (approaching the counter, and speaking in a low voice.) I believe send you electric messages to the town of Forty-ness). Well, you can cut out some of it, you winks? 1st Clerk. Is it? Why didn't you say so at first. The public give a great deal of unnecessary trouble. Mr. M. H. But I rather wanted to know what would be your charge for a message there. 1st Clerk. 'Pends on length. Mr. M. H. Yes, of course; yes, that is so. But I have written out the message I wish to send, and you can perhaps tell me the price before I fill up one of the forms. 1st Clerk (takes the paper, and 2d and 3d Clerk come and look over their friend's shoulder.) He reads: My dearest Maria Janethat's four words, unless you like to call her Mariar only-I hope that your poor head is better (aside to one friend). How about her poor feet ?-twelve words-Be sure to use the hoppledeaddog (a burst from his friends). Mr. M. H. (hurt). Opodeldoc, young gentleman. It is an application. 2d Clerk (a smart young fellow, up to busi know. See now. Cut out your dearest Mariar Jane, if your name's to the letter she'll know it's you as sends, at least, my Mariar Jane would-that's four out. What's the good of hoping about her poor head ?stick to the message-say "Use the ophicleide" - what is it? - "keep out of draughts "-fifteen words out-there, sir, we'll put that into the wire for you at a low figure, say four bob. Fill up a form—one of those before your nose. Mr. M. H. Well, thank you, yes, that is shorter, certainly (coloring). But-butyou see-in fact there are circumstances, and that would read a little abrupt. 2d Clerk. Well, it's your business, you know, not mine. [Opens a walnut. Enter SMALL Boy, with much clatter. 3d Clerk. Now then, you young scamp, where have you been all this while? You're in for it, you are, I can tell you. Small Boy (with much volubility). Well how's a fellow to go to Hislington and Chelsea and round by Brompting and the Minories and be back in five-and-twenty minutes you couldn't do it yourself come now and you've no call to put it upon me to do it and what's more I wont and I can't and that's all about it. 3d Clerk (serenely). Better tell the governor so. S. B. I will tell the governor so and I do tell the governor so do you think I'm afraid to speak to the governor he's not the man to see a poor lad put upon and bullied out of his lifetime if he happens to be hindered five minutes out of two hours because the road's up and the buss broke down and there was Mr. H. M. I have written "windows," I a fire and we couldn't get by. Come! think. 1st Clerk. Oh, ah! Well, you'd better say application; for I'm sure there'll be a mull with the Latin-eighteen words-and be careful about open winders. 3d Clerk. You'll see. Be off with this message to Hoxton. three hours. It's been waiting here will go before five-surely, a distance of thirty-six miles S. B. Not till I've had my dinner if I know it and that's all about it. [Exit. 2d Clerk. Nice lad that. Nothing to say for himself, oh, no! 1st Clerk. That ought to go off, you know. 2d Clerk. I know nothing about it, except that it's been lying there since eleven o'clock, and that it's a thundering message to a doctor to be off by the next train. 1st Clerk. Well, I ask you is it my fault ? 2d Clerk. It's nobody's fault in particular, and everybody's in general, and we'll hope the doctor will be in time. Mind your customer. 1st Clerk. Well, sir-cooked it? Mr. M. H. (who has been fidgeting over his document, and making faces, and showing much discomfort about it). I—I think I have reduced it a little without making it quite so peremptory-how is it now? 1st Clerk. My dearest-um-um, 2d Clerk. You stick to the polite, sir? [Graciously. Mr. M. H. Ladies require to be addressed with consideration, you see. all. [Apologetically. 1st Clerk. Six shillings-seven-and-six in Mr. M. H. (with a sigh). Well, so it must be. But, oh, yes, I beg your pardon, when will this be delivered ? Mr. M. H. (rising into wrath). And I must add that to put Fortywinks on your list, and not be able to say that you can send there in six hours is a little more than inconsistent. 2d Clerk. Well, you can write to the papers and say so. And as the papers pay our salaries, of course we shall all get the sack. Mr. M. H. The papers may not pay your salaries, but-ha! ha! (with mild maliciousness) they shall pay you out. (Rushes away on delivering this annihilating smasher, and hurries up the street.) 2d Clerk. Not so bad of the old muff, that. But he's left his dearest Maria Jane paper behind him Re-enter MR. M. H. very hot. Mr. M. H. I left a paper here. I request its return. 2d Clerk. Did you, sir? sir! I do not see it, sir. Brown? No, I think not, Have you seen it, 1st Clerk. No, I haven't, Robinson. 3d Clerk. I think you must be in herror, sir. [They all gaze upon him with much polite 1st Clerk. Oh, some time to-night. Mr. M. H. Ah, but that is very important! I would not send unless you could guarantee that it would be delivered by nine, or at the latest ten minutes past, as-as the lady re-ness. tires at half-past nine, and I would not have her disturbed on any account. 1st Clerk. We guarantee nothing, but I dessay you'll hear that it's all right. Mr. M. H. It is only three o'clock now. Surely the message could go away at once. 2d Clerk. Of course it could if the wire wasn't wanted for anything else, but we'll send it as soon as we can. Mr. M. H. But you will assure me that it Mr. M. H. Then I must have dropped it in the street. 2d Clerk. Very likely, sir. The public does those things occasionally. Perhaps the finder will bring it here, and forward it at his own expense; if so, it shall receive every attention, sir. Mr. M. H. This telegraph system is [Exit before completing his diagnosis. J EX CHAPTER XIX. the cool, matter-of-fact, business-like act of setting a detective officer to hunt out their nephew, from which these poor women recoiled. Besides, impressed as he was--he had told his Aunt Johanna so-with the relentlessness of Mr. Ascott, might not the chance of his discovering that he was hunted, drive him to desperation ? Hardly to suicide. Hilary steadfastly disbelieved in that. When Selina painted horrible pictures of his throwing himself off Waterloo Bridge; or being found hanging to a tree in one of the parks; or lock "MISSING"-"Lost"-"To-"-all the initials of the alphabet-we read these sort of advertisements in the newspapers; and unless there happens to be in them something intensely pathetic, comical, or horrible, we think very little about them. Only those who have undergone all that such an advertisement implies, can understand its depths of misery: the sudden missing of the person out of the home-circle, whether going away in anger, or driven away by terror or disgrace; the hour after hour and day after day of agonized suspense; the self-ing himself in a hotel bed-chamber, and reproach, real or imaginary, lest anything might have been said or done that was not said or done-anything prevented that was not prevented; the gnawing remorse for some cruel, or careless, or bitter word, that could so easily have been avoided. Alas! if people could only be made to feel that every work, every action, carries with it the weight of an eternity; that the merest chance may make something said or done quite unpremeditatedly, in vexation, sullenness, or spite, the last action, the last word; which may grow into an awful remembrance, rising up between them and the irredeemable past, and blackening the future for years. Selina was quite sure her unhappy nephew had committed suicide, and that she had been the cause of it. This conviction she impressed incessantly on her two sisters, as they waited upon her, or sat talking by her bedside during that long Saturday, when there was nothing else to be done. That was the misery of it. There was Two courses suggested themselves to Hil- blowing out his brains, her younger sister only laughed-laughed as much as she could if only to keep Johanna quiet. Yet she herself had few fears. For she knew that Ascott was, in a sense, too cowardly to kill himself. He so disliked physical pain; physical unpleasantness of all kinds. She felt sure he would stop short, even with the razor or the pistol in his hand, rather than do a thing so very disagreeable. Nevertheless, in spite of herself, while she and her sisters sat together, hour after hour, in a stillness almost like that when there is a death in the house, these morbid terrors took a double size. Hilary ceased to treat them as ridiculous impossibilities, but began to argue them out rationally. The mere act of doing so made her recoil; for it seemed an acknowledgment that she was fighting not with chimeras, but realities. "It is twenty-four hours since he went," she reasoned. "If he had done anything desperate he would have done it at once, and we should have heard of it long before now; ill news always travels fast. Besides, his name was marked on all his clothes in full. I did it myself. And his coat-pockets were always stuffed with letters; he used to cram them in as soon as he got them, you know." And at this small remembrance of one of his "ways," even though it was an unkind way, and had caused them many a pain, from the want of confidence it showed, his poor, fond aunts turned aside to hide their starting tears. The very phrase "he used to seemed such an unconscious admission that his life with them was over and done: that he never would either please them or vex them any more. Yet they took care that during the whole |