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12 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