Before I should commence my logic at ten, there was ample time for a short walk, and what could better settle my mind for the day's study than one glance at 17 Promenade Villas, Prospect Place? When I approached it, there was an unusual stir and bustle in the front of the house. Servants were running about; the dining-room table, so far as I could see from the opposite side of the way, was covered with a cold collation. Presently up dashed a carriage and pair to the door, and out floated one of the young ladies whom I had seen with Edith on the sands, robed in soft Indian white muslin. left my lodgings, all was doubt and uncer-hour I applied myself unremittingly, and tainty; now, did I not know every thing?— afterwards took my first meal with cheerher very name and address? I felt so calm fulness and appetite. and contented, that I could have almost returned to the society of Antigone and Imene for an hour or two, but I determined *first to revisit the sea-shore. I wandered back to the spot where I had written my Christian name under hers, and was hurt and disgusted to find that some mischievous and ill-meaning person had scrawled under them, in large coarse-looking letters, A PAIR OF IDIOTS. This was the treatment which sentiment met with at the hands of the vulgar. I had always been a friend to education, except in my own particular case; I now bitterly regretted that the masses, or any of them, could write. I looked around, but to no purpose, for the miscreant who had committed this sacrilege. Not a bone in his body should have remained unbroken. I quickly obliterated the ribaldry that had been added, and left the two names as they stood originally, until it occurred to me that I would destroy her surname, place my own opposite, and bracket the two Christian names together. I then sat myself down on the shingles, and watched the tide come in, ripple after ripple washing up nearer and nearer to the writing, until at last the two names, still united, were submerged under the waters of the Atlantic; and, as the tide had now reached me, I woke from my reverie with my shoes and stockings wet. That evening I dined with some appetite; it had entirely forsaken me during the three preceding days. With my cheroot, I attempted Herodotus, but soon laid the venerable Father of History aside; took up Virgil, but with the same result. Even my favorite Horatius Flaccus could not, on this occasion, be tolerated, but was exchanged for my pen, with which I wrote an acrostic on Edith Walsingham. I went to bed reciting my lines, which at the time seemed a very happy effort of my muse, repeating the euphonious name which had inspired them, and meditating on the beauty of its enchanting owner. Next morning I was up betimes, long before the hideous servant had plied the string fastened to my finger. I had now some object in life-that object was Edith Walsingham: I would read, ay, read even before breakfast, and divinity too; so for one A horrible suspicion seized me; I felt dizzy, and staggered, as the thought passed through my mind that there was to be a wedding, and that Edith was to be the bride of another. Suspense was torture I could not endure, so I walked boldly over to the driver of the carriage and pair. "Is there a wedding here this morning?" I asked. "Yes, sir," answered the coachman. "One of the Miss Walsinghams?" I suggested. "No, sir: Miss Jones." I breathed freely. It was not my Edith; but she would probably be a bridemaid, and I should see her in all the virgin purity and whiteness of muslin, light as gossamer. I was again happy, and full of expectation. What would I have given to be invited to the breakfast, and been called on to propose the bridemaids' healths? In another moment another carriage arrived, and this time two India muslin bridemaids descended-one I recognized as of the trio on the sands, but not my Edith. When would she come? I crossed the road again to Jehu the second, and remarked in a very unconcerned way, that I believed Mr. Walsingham lived here. "No, sir," he replied firmly: "Mr. Jones." "Then Miss Walsingham is on a visit to Mr. Jones'?" I, by way of conjecture, observed. "Dare say she may be," said the charioteer; "there's a deal of company in the house." Carriage after carriage drove up. I had now counted six bridemaids, and Edith was 66 not among them. But, heavens! what is Batkin, Esq., of the Middle Temple, barristhis? Edith leaning on the arm of an ter-at-law.' elderly gentleman-Edith arrayed as a bride, rustling in glacis silk, covered from head to foot with Brussels lace, and veiled. O, Edith -Edith Walsingham! Mary Jones, now Mary Batkin," I soliloquized-" what could have induced her to inscribe on the sand that other name ??' Two hours after, I purchased a copy of I gazed for one moment at the carriage as the Sandhaven Herald, in which was the it rolled away; I would have followed to following paragraph: "We rejoice to state the church, but had not strength to do so. that Percy Batkin, Esq., the celebrated I reeled home, and threw myself on my sofa. author of many works of fiction, led to the The plain landlady called her plainer daugh- hymeneal altar, on Saturday last, the eldest ter; they held a consultation in the passage, daughter of our respected fellow-townsman, and were sending off the very plain servant Alexander Jones, Esq. Mr. Batkin is, we for a doctor, when I rose and rebuked them, [ understand, upon the point of giving to the and then lay down again. I slept I scarcely world of letters another three-volumed novel, know how long-I hardly remember any under the attractive title of Edith Walsingthing more of that awful day. ham.' Next morning, though I ate no breakfast, I tried to read the Times, and got as far as the supplement and the marriages, among which I saw " On, Saturday, 17th, at St. Paul's Church, Sandhaven, by the Rev. Peter Jones, uncle of the bride, Mary, eldest daughter of Alexander Jones, Esq., to Percy And it was this, then, of which she was thinking when I saw her write! Need I add that I at once left Sandhaven a blighted being, but found that, in addition to being blighted, I should be, if I did not read, also plucked that I therefore read-passed "great go "—and am now romantic no more. JOHN ADAMS.-The following passage, from | nature; careful in his investigation of evidence; the widely circulated National Era, of Washing- inflexible in his devotion to truth; comprehenton, pays a just tribute to the elder President sive in his views, and withal an accomplished Adams, and also to the very elaborate, instruc-scholar, he has given to the public one of the tive, and interesting biography of him which has finest and most valuable biographies of modern just been published by his grandson:-Transcript. "The more we read of old John Adams, the more we feel that he was the very soul of the Revolution. His letters are fascinating-every word is instinct with life-they show his intensity, his ever-abounding energy and activity. He had vitality enough for a dozen ordinary men. The biographical portion of the work is worthy of all praise. The first part of it, occupying about eighty-nine pages, and bringing down the narrative to the year 1770, is from the pen of John Quincy Adams; the rest, the main, and, we may add, by far the more interesting part, is the work of Charles Francis Adams, who has executed the task, with an ability worthy of the subject. Clearly understanding the character of his grandfather; ardently sympathizing with his lofty spirit of independence; thoroughly informed in regard to his acts and those of his contemporaries, and their relations to each other; keen in his insight into human times. In this connection we cannot help remarking, that it is a shame to Massachusetts that a man, bearing the honored name of Adams, and inheriting so many of the great qualities of that revolutionary family, should be absent at such a crisis from the Federal Councils." ORIGIN OF BURNING THE DEAD. The Rev. Dr. Bigelow has written that the "ancient custom of burning the dead thus originated : " "When a hero died, or was killed in a foreign expedition, as his body was corruptible, and therefore unfit to be transported entire, the expedient was hit upon to reduce it to ashes, that by bringing those home, the manes of the deceased might be obliged to follow, and the benefit of his tutelage be secured to his country. By degrees the custom became common, and superseded the ancient mode of burial." MALTA. W. W. - Notes and Queries. [We have received the first volumes of the com- | testimony, in the opinions of those whoprehensive work now publishing by Dr. Sprague, without personal knowledge of the india work that could not properly be prepared by any viduals in question, were still for any reason one who could not bring to it the ample learning, untiring industry, and, above all, the catholic spirit of this author. We avail ourselves of a notice in the Boston Daily Advertiser, which we understand to have been written by Mr. Everett.] Annals of the American Pulpit, or commemorative notices of distinguished American clergymen of various denominations, from the early settlement of the country to the close of the year 1855, with historical introductions. By William B. Sprague, D. D. Two volumes, 8vo. New York, Carter & Co. best able to describe them. Dr. Sprague ful memorial given the leading dates in the life of every clergyman who is incidentally mentioned in the text; thus embodying in a compact form a vast amount of information in reference to persons whose names are preserved, although for want of material or other causes no more detailed account of them is given. THE volumes, of which we have thus given the title at length, are the two first of a work, which, from the specimen now before the public, promises to be one of very great In addition to the accounts given in the importance and interest,-in fact, a bio- text of the individuals who form the subject graphical cyclopædia of the American of the work, Dr. Sprague has in foot notes church, comprising all the prominent names of the Protestant clergy of this country. The plan on which it is executed is, as far as we are aware, original, and insures a variety of interest and an authority of statement, not easily to have been attained in any other way. The characteristics of this plan are the following: first, that the account of each individual should be original, that is to say, given by the individual best able to furnish, from actual knowledge, reliable information and statements pertaining to his history and character; and second, freedom as far as possible from denominational bias, the object of the author being to present a faithful outline of the life and character of each individual included in the work, leaving his opinion on doctrinal subjects to be inferred from the denomination to which he belongs, or to be disclosed in extracts from his works. In executing the first part of his plan, Dr. Sprague has obtained, as far as practicable, from some competent living individual, an account of the individuals included in the work. When there has been no one living to testify, as is uniformly the case with all who died before 1770,-he has availed himself of the best testimony of contemporaries, from funeral sermons and obituary notices. When these sources of information failed, as was the case in a very few instances, he has resorted to the best substitute for original In the volumes before us, about three hundred and forty persons are described in the manner indicated in the above, commencing with John Robinson, who justly leads the van of the New England clergy, although the soil of New England was never honored by his presence, and coming down to the end of the last year. The following interesting facts, relative to the composition of the work, are stated by Dr. Sprague in his general preface. Of about five hundred and forty individuals, who have contributed to it by original letters, seventy-nine are known to have already deceased, and fifty-two have a place in it both as contributors and subjects. A considerable number of the contributors have been between eighty and ninety years of age; six between ninety and a hundred; and one has completed his century. Of those above ninety, four still survive, retaining a good portion of the in"This host tellectual vigor of middle life. of veterans," says Dr. Sprague, "80 many of whom are gone to mingle in other scenes, have freely imparted to me their recollection of their early contemporaries and associates, which must otherwise soon have perished, name. It was my advantage to enjoy his but which may now be preserved for the benefit of posterity.' Dr. Sprague has placed the clergymen of the several denominations in divisions by themselves, arranged according to the number of individuals to be described, furnished by each denomination. The Trinitarian Congregational precedes, and occupies the two volumes now before the public. The subsequent volumes are, we understand, in a state of forwardness, and may be expected to follow without delay. notice, soon after he took the chair of Rhetoric and Oratory at Harvard University, where I was at that time an undergraduate. and familiarly during the rest of his life. It It was among my delights to see him often was my sorrow to lose him in a way that to my youthful apprehension seemed sudden, and to have to speak his eulogy in the church to which he had been all but a pastor, and where his memory is cherished to this very hour. countenance come back to me, as I reflect, "His bony frame and strongly marked with the most perfect distinctness. I hardly It appears from our description that this seem to have ever lost sight of them. His work is one of vast comprehension and Her- appearance marked him out for no common culean labor. The portion given to the man. He was cast in one of those extrapublic is evidently the fruit of the most in- ordinary moulds, that made him at once an defatigable research; and marked, as far as would turn to look after him when he had object of attention. Persons in the street we have been able to examine it, with the passed them; his speech was so earnest, his punctilious accuracy which characterizes the look so animated, his bearing, though author. We are acquainted with no two volumes of biography containing an equal amount of matter of fact, brought together by personal investigation, and resting on the guaranty of so much original contemporary evidence. Should the work be completed as it is begun, it will form a repository unique in importance and interest in this department of ecclesiastical history. While, in the ordinary sense of the term, it will be the work of Dr. Sprague, and as such will earn for him a distinguished and permanent place in the ranks of American authorship, it wi at the same time be the product of no smal portion of the collective intellect of the country. It is not easy to open the volume at a venture without falling upon portions, which will be read with interest. We select, as a specimen of the work which in this community will be especially attractive, viz the following admirable letter of Rev. Dr Frothingham, describing a well-remembered clergyman and scholar of the last generation, the Rev. Professor Joseph McKean: FROM THE REV. NATHANIEL LANGDON FROTHING HAM, D. D. entirely plain and grave, so free and noble. He always appeared to me athletic; and yet his health could never have been completely sound during any part of the term of my to think, bore a striking resemblance to that acquaintance with him. His head, I used of the most common portraits of Lorenzo de Medici. His long, straight, black hair was gathered into a careless tie behind, and allowed to stray a little over his face. His full black eyes threw their expression from be called severe; but his mouth was as full under a brow and forehead that might almost of sweetness as any I ever saw. His features were extremely flexible, taking every conceivable light and shade, from his inward feelings, and those feelings were of the most delicate sensibility. The mingled tenderness and thoughtfulness, that I have often marked down upon them, like a watchful bird upon not only stealing over them but settling a soft nest, I do not remember to have ob served anywhere else so beautifully displayed as it was between those large cheek-bones and upon that swarthy skin. His voice was deep and rich, corresponding to such a physiognomy. His ready smile was playful, affectionate. His laugh, that was ready also, was one of those open-mouthed peals of mirth, which, without any diminution of dignity, are given with the heartiest good will, having a real benevolence in their sound, and showing that the man is neither overcome with them nor ashamed of them. BOSTON, April 3, 1850. "My Dear Sir,-You ask me to write to you, in a familiar way, some of my recollections of Dr. Joseph McKean. To do this "Perhaps I am dwelling too long on what will be a labor of the sincerest love on my may be called physical qualities. But they part-if indeed that can be called a labor, are not merely such. They belong closely which is a grateful exercise of the mind, to the inward person. They were character-. turned towards a distinguished friend of istic of his whole self. Besides, you ask for early days, and a very dear and honored my reminiscences; and to what could they my be expected to attach themselves so vividly dency of the institution, would be offered to as to the peculiarities that I have described? him, if he was inclined to accept it. NothBut I will come to other things. The dis- ing could have been more gratifying to him position, the temper of Dr. McKean, his than such a proposal. He acceded to it at moral traits and complexion, were naturally once. That was the very position he would among the first things to attract my youth- have preferred to all others. Mathematics ful observation. These interested me strongly had been his favorite study, while he was an from the very beginning of my acquaintance undergraduate of the College. That witty with him. They were of a kind that could indecorum, the Junior Classology,' denot fail to engage the feelings of every one; scribed him as coming to the revels From they were so manifestly sincere, so impa- Pike's learned page.' He thought that he tient of all duplicity, so incapable of any should now find solace for what he had unmeanness, so bold in their frankness, but so dergone as a parish minister, in that honorfriendly in their intent. As I have medi- able and pleasant chair. It was suited to his tated upon them often in after years, they tastes. It afforded him the finest field for have rather gained than lost in my admira- cultivating a chosen pursuit. It satisfied tion of them. He was of a cordial, impul- his fullest ambition. Rumor began to pubsive nature, fervid in all things. He must lish the secret, and congratulations were have been originally of an unusually vehe- paid him on his proposed removal to Camment spirit, but it was so held in check by bridge, when the newspapers announced the its kindliness and its conscientiousness, that, election to the expected place of a distinstrongly as his emotions continued to show guished citizen who afterwards spread his themselves all through his life, I never saw fame over the whole scientific world. On him provoked into any unbecoming heat, and seeking an explanation of this, Mr. McKean never heard a peevish or bitter expression was informed that it was all right; that the from his lips. He was tenacious of his judg- compliment was thought a proper one to ments also, and had his full share of what pay to the attainments of Dr. Bowditch, would be called his prejudices. And yet I though it was known that he would not have known him to show the most marked accept the office, while the real Professor good will towards those with whom he could was to be no other than himself. He had have no sympathy, either in their opinions been so wounded, however, that he refused or their conduct; offering them the warmth to have any thing further to do with the proof his ever open hospitality, while at the position. This was very unwise, it is true. same time he declared to them privately But the want of wisdom was of that nature what he most disapproved in the course they which only an elevated spirit could be capahad taken. I look back upon him as an ar- ble of. The self-respect might have been a dent, generous, lofty mind; susceptible, but mistaken one, but it was still self-respect. independent; resolute, but considerate; A feeling somewhat kindred to this, though easy to kindle and easy to melt: but the without any stain of this world's passion first without rage and the last without weak-upon it, led him to decline an invitation ness. from the church in Hollis Street to become the successor of Dr. West. He made it a point that the invitation should be a unanimous one; and it failed of being so only by a single voice. This solitary opposition was made by a gentleman, who soon afterwards joined the congregation of the Old South, where more orthodox opinions were supposed to be entertained. The course taken by Mr. McKean, on this occasion, seemed, to those whom it disappointed, more nice than just; since it subjected the wishes of a whole society to the will of an individual; but all admitted the purity of its motive. Perhaps he was reminded too forcibly by his previous ministerial experience that it was necessary to begin at least that relation with an entire consent, and a great deal of love. "Constituted as he thus was, you may easily suppose that he had a nice sense of honor; that he was keenly alive to whatever touched the regard in which he sought to be held, and which he accounted his due. He carried this sensibility into too great refinement, perhaps, and even to a jealous punctiliousness. Not from vanity or arrogance in the least degree; but from an over-delicacy of sentiment; or from a scrupulousness that weighed the absolute propriety of things, and not his personal interests at all; or from a quick resentment of what seemed to him any other than the most ingenuous dealing. A remarkable example of this was related to me by himself, as we were once walking together. After he had resigned the pastoral charge of the church at Milton, "As a preacher, Dr. McKean was exceedhe was told by a member of the Corporation ingly impressive. Wherever he went he was of Harvard University that the Hollis Pro-listened to with respectful attention and fessorship of Mathematics, then made vacant deep interest. For this, he was much inby the elevation of Dr. Webber to the Presi-debted, no doubt, to his imposing figure |