bility; afterward it was sufficient if the speaker merely touched any one of those parts; and still later, it was enough if he were in communication, though at some distance, with the person who was in actual contact with those parts. She never spoke unless spoken to. When questioned in the manner described, she answered in the same tone of voice that was used by the one who spoke to her; either high or low, or very high. Her power of hearing through those parts was very extraordinary. If a person touching her stomach with one hand, grasped with his other the hand of a second person standing farther off, and the third and fourth formed in this manner a chain, hand in hand, and the fourth questioned her in the lowest possible tones, she would understand perfectly, and reply in the same tone. The reply continued always so long as the contact was maintained with the parts possessing sensibility, and ceased when that contact was interrupted; but she would resume the discourse when the contact was restored, at the point to which it would have reached if there had been no interruption. It seemed, therefore, that the reply was continued internally; and indeed, when she was asked, in such case, why she had not spoken all the words, she always insisted that she had pronounced them all equally.

After the twenty-first day, she lost the faculty of speech. She continued to hear and understand as before; but she could answer only by breathing forcibly when she wished to affirm positively. Those who were about her then conceived the plan of inducing her to convey her answers in as few words as possible, and to signify those words by a strong breathing, while they pronounced in her hearing the several letters of the alphabet. Afterward, she lost also the power of breathing forcibly; but the experimenters, finding that she could make a slight pressure with the ends of her fingers, availed themselves of that means to receive her answers.

Her eyes, as we have already said, were closed the first twenty-one days; but to be the more assured of their inactivity, the experimenters bound them with a handkerchief well folded; and yet she recognised immediately the color of different bodies that were presented to the parts having sensibility. She could sometimes read in this way, and could always tell the hour by a watch. Afterward it was not even necessary that the objects should be in contact with her body; she could tell them in any part of the room; and it was only requisite for this, that the experimenters who were in contact with her should direct her attention to the proper point. Still later, she recognised and described objects placed in another room, in the street, or at a distance in places that she had never seen.

Being requested to give a description of a convent at Bologna, and of the vaults under a country-house in the neighborhood of that city, of which neither the patient or her interrogators had any knowledge, she described both, minutely; and her description being taken down, was found to correspond exactly with the facts, even including the number and position of the wine-vessels in the cellars.

She was once persuaded by a professor of the University to name the objects that were in a certain cabinet in the college; she complied, and enumerated them exactly. She was asked what was on a certain table there, which was indicated to her: she said 'a book.'

'And what on the book? She answered, 'A brain.' 'What brain?' She said, 'That of some animal.' 'What animal?' She replied that if he would name several, she could tell him which was the animal, and accordingly she told, correctly, the animal to which the brain had belonged was a leopard. She declared that she saw distinctly; and she certainly described the internal organs of her own body, and those of other persons. Being subjected by the professor above mentioned, to an examination on anatomy, she described, with astonishing precision, the situation of the heart, the pancreas, the spinal marrow, and the nerves - their connections and uses. And when requested by the same professor to examine the internal condition of his female patient, who lived at some distance, she informed him that the disease was in her womb, and was incurable.

A new order of phenomena became manifest during the time when her eyes, instead of being closed and bandaged, were open and motionless. It was found that the axis of the ball had a tendency to turn, as if moved by mechanical force, toward the side where the physicians, or any one else, caused, by any means, a current of the electric fluid. This occurred even when the electricity was excited behind her, or in another room; on which occasions her eye-balls would turn, and her head would follow the movement. The same effect was found to proceed from the presence of a loadstone, or any magnetized body, and also from so slight a galvanic action as might be produced by touching a plate of zinc to a plate of copper.

The witnesses of these extraordinary facts purpose, as we learn, to give a full account of them to the public. We hope they will also be able to explain them. It is for philosophers alone to judge of these marvellous phenomena.

E.

THE PATRIOTS OF THE TYROL.

A TALE OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY-FOUNDED ON FACT.

CHAPTER I.

INTRODUCTORY.

THE Tyrol is perhaps the most mountainous and therefore the most picturesque country in the world. It is divided by a lofty and precipitous range of mountains into two sections, whereof the upper, or German Tyrol, is a valley of about one hundred miles in length, and from three to eight miles in breadth, formed by the river Inn, about the centre of which stands Innspruck, the capital. The lower, or Italian Tyrol, comprises the two valleys of Eisach and Adige, through which flow two rivers of the same name. The only road which connects the two districts, passes over Mount Brenner, at an elevation of six thousand feet above the level of the sea.

This territory-successively the property of the Roman, the Vandal, the Hun, the Frank, and the Bavarian-fell, about the middle of the sixteenth century, into the possession of the House of Austria, partly by the marriage of Margaret Moultasche, the only daughter of one of the most powerful of the native counts, to a duke of the Hapsburg family, and partly by purchase and conquest. From that period till the year 1805, the Tyrol continued a dependency of the Austrian government, and a firm and faithful ally of that power. The clemency and paternal regard, remarkable in the Austrian rulers toward their hereditary states, were shown in a conspicuous light in their intercourse with the Tyrolese, who were left in the enjoyment of all their ancient privileges; their diet, or representative assembly, experienced no interference with their deliberations, and their liberal institutions remained unchanged and unmutilated by the hand of Power.

This happy state of affairs was, however, doomed to a melancholy change. The rapid and brilliant campaign of 1805 gave to Bonaparte so vast a command over the humbled house of Austria, that he was enabled to dictate whatever terms his unlimited ambition might prompt. One of the conditions of the peace ratified by the treaty of Presburg was that the Tyrol should be ceded to his ally, the King of Bavaria. This sacrifice the Emperor Francis was compelled to make; and it is easy to judge what must have been the indignation of the hardy mountaineers, when informed of this sudden transfer, effected without consultation with the diet, and in direct opposition to the wishes of the people, who found themselves made over, like a flock of sheep, from one master to another-from a master whom they loved, to one whom, from former acts of tyranny and oppression, handed down by tradition from their forefathers, they had every reason, if not to hate, at least to fear. It is true, indeed, that the king of Bavaria solemnly guarantied to them the full possession of all their ancient rights; but however implicitly they might have trusted these assurances, the true character of their new rulers was not long in disclosing itself. They were soon called upon to witness the suppression of their representative assembly-the seizure of their public funds-the confiscation of their ecclesiastical revenues, and the

levying of new and onerous taxes. Even these oppressions might, perhaps, have been borne for a time in sullen and indignant silence; but the cup of injustice was not yet full. The bold, hardy, and proud race of mountaineers was compelled to submit to the insults of the French and Bavarian soldiery; their prejudices and their virtuous and simple feelings were often outraged by the vicious and brutal conduct displayed by the licentious troops, and their dearest rights were frequently invaded and violated.

These multiplied and galling oppressions were however endured until the year 1808, when it appeared evident that the war between France and Austria was on the eve of again breaking out. This event offered to the Tyrolese an opportunity for throwing off the Bavarian yoke too favorable to be allowed to pass; and secret messengers were accordingly sent to Vienna to intimate the desires of the people, and to offer their hearty cooperation with the Austrian forces in the war which was now inevitable. These offers were readily accepted by the Archduke John, commander of the Austrian army, and the Tyrolese were soon actively, though furtively, engaged in preparing for the 'coming events.' Never was a feeling so universally diffused among a people as was the hatred now evinced toward their imperious lords. No age-no sex-considered itself exempt from the common duty of giving aid to their suffering land, and never perhaps was that aid which she demanded more promptly, and, for a time, more effectually, bestowed by her bold and hardy children.

FROM the main valley of the Inn, several smaller valleys branch off, forming beds for the rapid streams which rush down from the snow and 'cloud-capped' mountains by which the whole district is enclosed. These mountains in some places rise abruptly with almost perpendicular precipices from the banks of the streams; in others with a gradual and gentle slope, allowing space for the fields and vineyards of the peasants. In one of these tributary vales, called the valley of the Passayer, stood in the year 1808, and is perhaps still standing, a neat dwelling occupied for several generations as a tavern, where the peasants were wont to resort after the hours of labor were past, or during the many holidays allowed by the Catholic church, to join in the dance, the rude sports of the country, or more generally in ther favorite amusement of practising at a mark with rifles, in which they were exceedingly expert. It is impossible to conceive a more romantic scene than was here presented to the eye. Spring had just begun to spread her rich green carpet over the cultivated slopes, whose color wore double freshness from the sudden contrast afforded by the white snows and glaciers which swept down almost to the tilled lands. Spring there sat at the feet of winter-Luxuriance pillowed her her head upon the lap of Desolation.

At the bottom of the steeply-sloping valley, a foamy stream rushed onward to join the main river by a succession of short falls and rapids. It was now swollen by the melting of the winter snows to an

unusual depth, and with immense rapidity and noise leaped from rock to rock, a rolling mass of foam. On the northern slope of the valley, the bank rose for about one hundred yards above the stream with a steep ascent; then a level space of considerable extent succeeded, like a step cut in the foot of the mountain. On this small plain stood the tavern we have mentioned: it was a neat white cottage, of ample dimensions, well flanked by barns and out-houses, and thickly shaded by trees. Over the door, by way of sign, was suspended the portly figure of St. Leonard, the patron saint of the family. Fields and gardens stretched away behind toward the mountain, on whose ascending sides an ample vineyard lay in the full blaze of the sun, extending its green trellises, tier above tier, far up toward the glaciers. In front of the cottage, seats were conveniently placed beneath the trees for the accommodation of guests, of whom there appeared, on the present occasion, an unusually large assemblage, not only in the immediate vicinity of the house, but also in scattered groups surrounding a target which was erected at some distance. The usually exciting amusement seemed now, however, to have lost much of its charm. Some object of deeper importance appeared to be occupying the thoughts of all; the dance, which was generally an indispensable accompaniment of the holiday recreations, formed no part of the present observance. The song was not heard ; even the shrill echoes of the rifle sounded only at distant intervals, the competitors for the prize approaching slowly to their stations, and conversing with much earnestness up to the very moment of taking aim, and seeming more intent upon renewing the dialogue after the bullet had been sped, than watching to see whether it had taken effect. The Merry Andrew or clown of the day, whose office it was to stand beside the target to ridicule the bad marksman and to applaud the good, who was generally chosen as being 'a fellow of infinite jest and most excellent fancy,' seemed to have lost half his wit, and even his best sayings failed to excite the usual accompaniment of mirth. The elders of the village, instead of standing, as was their wont, near the scene of competition, to mark the proficiency of the several candidates for fame, were assembled in front of the tavern, holding deep and important deliberation upon what appeared to be the all-absorbing topic. In the midst of these, sat Andrew Hofer, or Hoffer, the inn-keeper; a man of tall and commanding stature, about forty years of age. His broad, high forehead was surmounted by thick curling hair; but the principal characteristic of his countenance was a full, quick, and intelligent eye, which lighted up as he spoke with much brilliance, and gave to his fine manly face a noble and beautiful expression. His language was more polished than that of his companions, and there might be marked in his general bearing, traces of a higher degree of education, and more frequent intercourse with the external world, than often fell to the lot of the inhabitants of these sequestered valleys. Much deference was yielded to his opinions by the surrounding company, partly on account of his superior education, partly from his being the landlord of the inn of St. Leonard, but principally from his overpowering and convincing eloquence, which, when excited by his subject, he poured