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verse with him for an hour, as she usually
did when the cloth was removed.
The more Count Ladislaw reflected on her
singular behavior, the more he believed that
it was in some way connected with the stran
gers visit. Could any unpleasant news have
been made known to the Baroness? And
could this news have referred to himself, or
revealed anything to his disadvantage ? This
thought tormented him greatly, and the clock
struck midnight before he closed his eyes in
sleep. On the following morning, Theodora
left home at an early hour, as her servant
mentioned, to attend to some business, but re
turned before dinner time, when she accosted
Ladislaw with a serious but friendly air, and
observ ed that she was ready to accompany him
in an afternoon excursion to the ruins; and
the repast ended, they set ofT in a tasteful
equipage and were soon driving at full speed
through the deep shadow of the beech and
oak forests, until they arrived at the mount
on whose top stood the antique castle, half
overgrown by trees and shrubbery. With
the aid of the Count's arm, Theodora soon
reached the summit. To judge from the ex
tent of the fallen walls, and the immense
masses of stone, Castle Dub must have been
of considerable size, though the only part in
a state of preservation, was a quadrangular
tower on which might be seen numerous
strange hieroglyphics. After roaming about
tor a half hour, the Baroness took her seat
under an uncommonly large and wide-spread
ing oak, which she pointed out to her com
panion as the tree of Lihussa’s own planting,
adding jestingly, “this s the very spot I
should have chosen, to produce that poetic
and imaginative spirit, which will lend effect
to the legend I am about to read you this eve
ning; and I have a mind to pray Libussa, to
aid me with her enchantments.”
“Oh, cousin !” exclaimed Ladislaw tender
ly, “it needs not the Fairy to add a charm
to any narrative from your lips.”
“’Tissaid that this moral lies in the legend,
namely—a nobleman , under all circumstan
ces, should keep his promise, if he would not
cause misfortune to others, and this moral I
would have you remember, since it is the
ground-work of my tale.” Then, without
glancing at the Count, Theodora broke some
twigs from the wide-spreading oak, whose
moss trailed even to the ground, and silently
taking her companion’s arm, returned to the
carriage.
It was an hour after twilight, when a ser
vant summoned the Count to meet his hostess
in the library. On entering, he found her
seated in an arm chair, while the manuscript
lay on the table beside her. The apartment
was lighted by a single lamp of usual size,
but of singular form. It was transparent, of
a yellowish white, and had the appearance of
alabaster. The most delicate sculptures or
namented each of its volutes, consisting of
faces, which were one and the same in fea
tures, yet entirely different in expression, and
as the lamp revolved, the first in the row re
vealed the beautifully regular face of a wo
man ; the • corn! was the same, but not so
lovely; the third, fourth, fifth and sixth, were
each successively uglier; till in the seventh
was seen the aspect of a demon. It may
readily be supposed that this singular work
of art attracted the Count’s attention; and af
ter viewing the lamp on all sides, he turned
enquiringly to his hostess.
T “ You here behold one of the treasures pro
cured in the excavations at Castle Dub,” said
she, “and it-is certainly the most remarkable,
since it is connected with the tale I am about
to read to you ; at least it is so similar to Li
bussa’s lamp, that I feel assured it can be no
other.” She took up the manuscript, and
read as follows:
[conclusion next week.]
Two lines are wanted, and what .shall they bo 1
There is one, and here is another, d'ye see.”
[L fl ITU &A ® ®AS BIT ITIS.
fjome (Horresponiience.
For the Southern Literary Gazette.
NEW-YORK LETTERS.-NO. 11.
New York, May 10, 1848.
My Dear Sir , —My friend Barnum, of the
American Museum, has at length turned up a
curiosity every way worthy of his liumbuge-:
ous genius. This wonder is none other than
a “ Giant Baby!” The little cherub is sixteen
months old, and weighs only ninety pounds.
Upon the immense transparency, hanging up
on the “outward walls,” the infant is trebly
pictured : in the centre as reposing in his cra
dle, in all the happy innocence of babyhood;
on the right as sitting, and on the left as stand
ing upon the floor. It is supposed that the
parents will receive the premium, at the next
annual meeting of the “American Institute.”
How I should like to see Tuttle make a
“ jumper” for this baby! .... Our
good citizens are now felicitating themselves
upon the happy upshot of the late revolution
ary movement in England; and well they
may, for no more disastrous event, for the
whole civilized world, could possibly happen
at this time, than the overthrow of the British
Constitution and Crown. It would not only
prostrate our monetary interests, and for a
long period, destroy the commerce of the
world, but would, in all species of progress,
annihilate the work of ages. Few thinking
men much feared the result, although they
well knew that the spirit'of revolution and
anarchy was abroad, as did the British Gov
ernment itself. But happily for law and or
der, England is not France. Her people are
rational in their demands, and the govern
ment liberal in its concessions—always ready
to keep pace with the progress and wants of
the age. Revolution in England must ever
be, as it always has been, gradual. The
‘ three days’ of Paris will never do for so sen
sible and thinking a people as Britons. So
certainly is this true, that I expect to see
England still, nominally a monarchy, long
after she is in all but the name—a Republic.
What a grand thought is that of the mighty
moral power exerted in London on the mem
orable 10th of April, against the mobocracy
of Chartism! Think of 200,000 citizens, from
the noble to his menial—from the wealthy
merchant to the obscure artizan, hastening to
enrol themselves, as special constables, for the
preservation of law and order! How su
premely ridiculous was the whole course of
the Chartists! How contemptibly vacillating
and pusilanimous their every step! And
then, too, think of the laughable scene in the
House of Commons, when the Committee on
public petitions, after examining Mr. Feargus
O’Conner’s monster, to which he assured the
House there was appended more than five
millions of names—reported that, upon careful
scrutiny, they found only between one and
two millions of signatures—and of these were
page upon page in the same hand , besides
many impossible names, such as, ‘ Stick-your
foot-in-the-mud, Pugnose, Victoria Regina,’ I
Wellington, Peel, etc.!’ Amidst my high
gratification at the result of this affair, I can j
never think of it without a hearty laugh ! j
Do not suppose that I am growing irrelevant,
for I esteem it a part of my duty, as chroni
cler of life and manners here, to acquaint you i
with the public sentiment upou all great pas
sing events; and, in what I have just said, I
believe all our good citizens sympathize.—
• • • • 1 need not inform you that
great changes are going on here in the way
of building. Os course this is always the
case, and especially at this season. But what
will, perhaps, be of personal interest to your
readers—your traveling readers—is the in
creasing accommodation in the matter of Ho-!
tels. The Howards, formerly of the Howard
Hotel, are converting the Granite Buildings,
opposite Stewart's, on Broadway, into a splen
did palace lor travellers. The building will j
be extended to Reade St., and will then cover
the whole square, as Stewart’s, (opposite,)
will before long. The “American” is now
closed; Cozzens having sold out and opened
a Hotel at West Point. Mr. Taber of Bos
ton is about to take his place here. Besides
the new house of the Howards, New York
has now some half a dozen unexceptionable
Hotels in Broadway: the “ Globe,” “ Rath
bun’s,” “Howard’s,” “American,” “ Del
monico’s,” “Astor” and the “New York.”
The last mentioned is perhaps the most fash
ionable, though not the most popular; being
situated in upper-ten-dom, and out of the way
of business, it has an aristocratic nothing-to
do-air about it—quite recherche and edifying.
Besides these leading establishments, the
town is crowded with others of every grade;
but all of them questionable domicils for a
gentleman of taste. In very few of them
would you be secure from the danger of find
ing, in your neighbor, one of those barbarous
individuals who remove the covers for them
selves, call twice for soup, eat with a knife
and denominate spinage—greens! . . .
The exhibitions of “ Model Artistes,” which,
since the arrival of Power’s “ Greek Slave”
and Dr. Collyer’s troupe, had become such a
nuisance as to be indicted by the Grand Jury,
still prevail under various names, such as,
“Pictures in Action,” “Tableaux Vivants,”
“ Animated Pictures,” “Pygmalion Statuary,”
etc. I observed a placard of one of the es
tablishments the other day, announcing the
engagement of “twelve beautiful ladies of
faultless forms!” They are, however, nar
rowly watched by the police, who rigidly in
sist upon the exact quantum of drapery, pre
scribed by our virtuous city fathers. . . .
The number of fires, of greater or less extent,
which occurred in this city during the month
of April, amounts to fifty-five. Several fire
men, during the period, lost their lives, while
in discharge of duty. Since I have ventured
upon statistics, I will mention, also, that du
ring the past month, (April,) 11,318 emigrants
have landed in New York from foreign ports.
From the annual report of the city Inspectors
we learn, also, that the mortality of the town
is increasing beyond the ratio of increase of
inhabitants; the number of deaths last year
being 15,788, an excess of 4,470 on the pre
vious year, 1846 On Thurs
day evening last I spent a pleasant hour at
the church of the Messiah, in listening to the
funeral oration upon the artist, Cole, by the
poet, Bryant. A large audience of the elite
of the city was present. Mr. Bryant’S orato
-Iry is feeble—lacking life and action. Al
though seated in the middle of the church,
I could hear but indifferently, and, unques
, tionably, lost many fine passages entirely,
which hurt, for my ear, all the rest,—at least,
in these instances, I observed interchanges of
pleased looks upon the platform—saw Dr.
Dewey wink his eye at Mr. Durand. I then
suspected these lost portions to be capital; and,
upon adding this suspicion to the fact, that
they were unintelligible to my ear, I felt wil
ling to swear to their beauty! Apart from
the delivery, the oration was most excellent;
containing noble and practical eulogiums, up
on the character and genius of the illustrious
dead: a comprehensive sketch of his life and
admirable estimates of his works. In speak
ing of the early struggles of the artist, Mr.
Bryant related a very pleasing incident, high
ly creditable to the hearts of the profession,
and giving another sad proof of the fact, that
those best able, are never the most ready, to re
lieve distress. Mr. Cole exposed three pic
tures for sale in the shop windows, for which
he asked twenty-five dollars apiece. This
pitiful sum, though at that time of great val- ‘
ue to him, was far below Ihe value of the 1
works. ‘They attracted great attention, and ;
at length were purchased—by whom ?By !
the wealthy connoissieur ? By the proud I
patron of art? No! By three oj his own\
struggling brother Artists! In speaking of j
death of the great painter, the poet-orator !
said that “ he was calm, and ready, as a do
cile child, with an unfaltering trust, following
its parent into the darkest places!” He men
tioned a habit which the departed had of
washing his hands after handling money; so
harshly did the sordid spirit of the great world
strike upon his pure and ppetic soul! Let
the poet, the artist and the scholar, inhabit
their humble garrets, while the unfeeling mil
lionaire lolls in his palace : then let these die
peacefully, with their wide spread and un
soiled palms crossed sweetly upon their bos
oms ; while the other trembles at the thought
of leaving his treasures, and, with out-stretch
ed arms and crisped fingers, dreams he holds
a substance in the shade On
Friday night I joined a large and distinguish
ed party of Artists and Amateurs at the New
York Sketch Club, on the occasion of the an
nual meeting, and rarely have I spent a more
delightful evening. The sketches of the past
season were collected, to the number of more
than two hundred, in fourteen large folios.—
They were illustrative of the various subjects
of the The Beginning, Too Late, Too Soon,
Happiness, Enterprise, Lost, Nature, Beauty,
The Rescue, Picturesque, Battle, Heroism,
The Past and Raising the Wind. Most of
these sketches were in oil or water colors,
and were executed in a manner reflecting the
highest credit upon the Association. They
ran from grave to gay, and afforded a rich
treat to every admirer of Art present. The
meeting was called to order with an address
from the President —in which he spoke of the
progress, position and prospects of the Club,
and congratulated the members upon their
past successes and future destiny. The elab
orate and elegant report of the Secretary,
which followed, must have been highly grat
ifying to every member and friend of the In
stitution. The report of the Treasurer, which
convulsed the audience with laughter, w T as a
master-piece of quiet humor. The Club,
meeting at the studios of its members, in ro
tation, has but little necessity for any very
large fund, so that the Treasurer’s office is
not an onerous one; but, from the report, you
might have thought that millions were con
cerned. In opening, the officer spoke of the
occasion having arrived when, as Treasurer of
the Club, he was constitutionally called upon
to give an account of the “deeds done in the
body /” He alluded to the mighty revolutions
which were shaking the financial foundations
of the old world; in all of which, he was
happy to announce, that this great country in
general,and this Association in particular, had,
under the wide-spread wings of the American
Eagle, and by the sage and profound admin
istration ot its fiscal affairs, remained unsha
ken and unaffected ! He doubted not that the
prospective peace with Mexico would greatly
contribute to the increase of this happy and
remarkable stability in the monetary depart
ment of the Club! It was with great pleas
ure that he alluded to the unbroken harmonv
which had prevailed in the Association du
ring the year just closed—a harmony re
markable for professional gentlemen! He
mentioned the fact, not because he supposed
it to have any important bearing upon cash ,
but simply from his natural love of the mar
vellous ! Indeed the whole report was inim
itable in humour, as are all the sketches
which the author makes, with either his pen
or pencil. A beautiful poem on Art, written
for the occasion, was next read by J. Hagen,
Esq., one of the members. The following
gentlemen were then unanimously reelected
officers for the ensuing year: T. Addison
Richards, Esq., President, Jas. H. Cafferty,
Esq., Vice President, Thos. Cummings, jr.,
Esq., Secretary, and Wm. Walcutt, Esq.,
Treasurer. This last office had been vacated
by the resignation of Mr. F. Panton. At the
close of a merry evening, the Association ad
journed, (for the summer vacation,) until Oc
tober next. . , . . Speaking of annual
meetings reminds me that this is what we,
here, call “Anniversary Week;” when all