Chapter I: Front Matter

ROBERT MERRY’S

MUSEUM.

EDITED BY

S. G. GOODRICH,

AUTHOR OF PETER PARLEY’S TALES.

VOLUME VIII.

BOSTON:
BRADBURY, SODEN & CO.,
NO. 12, SCHOOL STREET.
1844.

Stereotyped by George A. Curtis, New England Type and Stereotype Foundry.

CONTENTS OF VOLUME VIII.

JULY TO DECEMBER, 1844.

July, 1
Military Chivalry, 2
The Life of Martin Luther, 3, 48
The Two Red Cents, 9
Charlotte Corday, 10
Conjugal Affection, 13, 42
The Forget-me-not, 15
Pigs, ”
Frederick II., 16
Dick Boldhero, 21, 77, 100, 137, 163
The Law of Honor, 24
Cairo, or Kahira, 25
Pictures of Various Nations, 26
Small Matters, 28
The Bat Family, 29
Joshua commanding the Sun and Moon to
stand still, 30
Correspondence, 31, 63, 95, 127
Happiness. _A Song_, 32
August, 33
Bill and the Boys, 34, 69, 132
Natural Curiosity, 37
The River Nile, 38
The Old Man in the Corner, 39
The Hunting Leopard, 41
A Pointed Blow, 44
Inhabitants of an Oyster, ”
Church of St. Peter’s at Rome, 45
Fortune Telling, 46
Travelling, 47
English Farmers, 55
London Menageries, 56
A Story of the Revolution, 57
Lady Jane Grey, 58, 85
The Bamboo, 61
Practical Advantage of Science, ”
Grandmother’s Scholar, 62
The Snowdrop. _A Song_, 64
September, 65
All Hallows-e’en, 66
Bonaparte’s Wit, 68
Tusculan Villa, ”
John Howard, 73
Lovewell’s War, 74, 113
Echoes, 76
Inquisitive Jack, 81
Bonaparte, 84
Ana, 90
Sir Isaac Newton, ”
Lord Mayor’s Show, 91
Joan of Arc, 92, 105
Trombone, 95
The Lark. _A Song_, 96
October, 97
The Chinchilla, 98
A Branch of Elder, 99
A Blacksmith’s Shop, 110
The American Panther, 111
The Lion Fight, 118
Bear and Child, 119
The Last Flower of the Season, 120
The Cunning Bear, 121
The Tiger’s Cave, 122
The Ingenious Cricket, 126
The Power of Bees, ”
Hymn, 127
November in London, 128
The Moon. _A Song_, ”
November, 129
Experience a Teacher, 131
Litigation, ”
Scott, ”
New Zealand, 135
The Bear and Panther, 144
The Cotton Plant, 147
The Election of President, 148
Benjamin Constant, 149
Irish Wit, ”
Dr. Watts, ”
Texas, 150
A Physician’s Dog, 153
Generous Revenge, ”
Prognostics of the Weather, 154
Job Printing, 159
The Bird of Paradise. _A Song_, 160
December, 161
Flowers, 162
The Squirrel and Rattlesnake, 177
There is Time Enough, 179
The Folly of War, 180
Wager Lost, ”
Anecdote of a Cat, 181
Examination of a School-boy, ”
A Sly Couple, 182
The Philosopher Puzzled, ”
Rising Genius, ”
The French Officer and his Mastiff, 183
Laconic, ”
A Wise Parrot, ”
Mount Vernon, 184
Anecdotes, 185
Farewell to the Old Year, 187
Pleasant Things. _A Song_, 188

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1844,
by S. G. GOODRICH, in the Clerk’s
Office of the District Court of Massachusetts.

MERRY’S MUSEUM.

Vol. VIII. JULY, 1844. No. 1.

“Now comes JULY, and with his fervid noon
Unsinews labor. The swinkt mower sleeps;
The weary maid walks feebly; the warm swain
Pitches his load reluctant; the faint steer,
Lashing his sides, draws sulkily along
The slow, encumbered wain in midday heat.”

Such is the picture of this month, drawn by an old English poet. With us the heat is still greater than in England; yet the farmers keep busily at work in the fields; and, to say truth, it is about as comfortable to be at work, as to be idle.

Leigh Hunt, speaking of this month in England, says, “The heat in this month is greatest on account of its duration. There is a sense of heat and quiet all over nature. The birds are silent. The little brooks are dried up. The earth is parched. The shadows of the trees are particularly grateful, heavy and still. The oaks, which are freshest, because latest in leaf, form noble, clumpy canopies, looking, as you lie under them, of a strong emulous green, against the blue sky. The traveller delights to cut across the country, through the fields and the leafy lanes, where nevertheless the flints sparkle with heat. The cattle get into the shade, or stand in the water. The active and air-cutting swallows, now beginning to assemble for migration, seek their prey among the shady places, where the insects, though of differently compounded natures, ‘fleshless and bloodless,’ seem to get for coolness, as they do at other times for warmth. The sound of insects is likewise the only audible sound now, increasing rather than lessening the sense of quiet by its gentle contrast. The bee now and then sweeps across the ear with his gravest tone. The gnats

‘Their murmuring mall trumpets sounden wide,’

and here and there, the little musician of the grass touches forth his tricksy note.

‘The poetry of earth is never dead;
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new mown mead;
That is the grasshopper’s.’

“Besides some of the flowers of the last month, there are candy-tufts, catch-fly, columbines, egg plant, French marigold, lavateras, marvel of Peru, verducas, tube roses, which seem born of the white rose and lily; and scarlet beans, which, though we are apt to think little of them, because they furnish us with a good vegetable, are quick and beautiful growing, and in a few weeks will hang a walk or trellis, with an exuberant tapestry of scarlet and green.

“The fruits begin to abound, and are more noticed in proportion to the necessity for them, occasioned by the summer heat. The strawberries are in their greatest quantity and perfection; and currants, gooseberries and raspberries, have a world of juice for us, prepared as it were, in so many crowds of little bottles, in which the sunshine has turned the dew of April into wine. The strawberry lurks about under a beautiful leaf. Currants are also extremely beautiful. A handsome bunch looks like pearls, or rubies, and an imitation of it would make a most graceful earring.

“It is now the season for bathing; a refreshment too little taken in this country, either in summer or winter. We say in winter, because with very little care in placing it in a cistern, and having a leathern pipe for it, a bath may be easily filled once or twice a week with warm water; and it is a vulgar error that the warm bath relaxes.”

* * * * *

MILITARY CHIVALRY.--“I heard once,” said Father Phil, “a pretty little bit of an anecdote about the way the French behaved to one of our Irish regiments on a retreat in Spain. They were going through a river--they were--and the French, taking advantage of their helpless condition, were peppering away at them hard and fast, until some women ran down, poor creatures, to the shore, and the stream was so deep in the middle that they could scarcely ford it; so some dragoons, who were galloping as fast as they could out of the fire, pulled up on seeing the condition of the womankind, and each horseman took up a woman behind him, though it diminished his own power of flying from the danger. The moment the French saw this act of manly courage, they ceased firing, and gave a cheer for the dragoons; and as long as the women were within gun-shot, not a trigger was pulled in the French line, but volleys of cheers instead of ball cartridges, were sent after the brigade till all the women were over.”

The Life of Martin Luther.

This famous man was born at Eisleben, then in Saxony, but now within the limits of Prussia. His father, Hans, or John Luther, was a native of Mora, near Eisenach; he was originally a woodcutter, and in very humble circumstances. His wife often carried the wood to market on her back. On the occasion of a fair at the latter place, the parents both went thither, and on the night of their arrival, November 10, 1483, the mother gave birth to a son. This occurred on the eve of St. Martin’s day, and hence the infant was called Martin. Six months after this event, the parents went to live at Mansfeld, and ten miles from Eisleben, where the father pursued the business of a miner with great success.

Young Luther was brought up in the strict habits and under the severe discipline of the age. His father was accustomed to inflict on him cruel chastisements, and his mother, for a mere trifle, whipped him till the blood came. Such was the general system of family government at that day. When sufficiently advanced, Martin Luther was sent to Eisenach, where he had access to an institution which taught the learning of the time. But he had no friends, and was obliged to procure his own bread. For this purpose, he used to go about the streets, with some of his companions as poor as himself, singing at the door of such as would listen. He had a fine talent for music, and though he often chanted the favorite songs and ballads of the day, he also sometimes sung his own compositions. This he was accustomed to call “bread music.”

In one of his excursions, he came to the house of a respectable man, named Conrad Cotta. Before it rose some lofty trees. In the shadow of these, young Martin threw himself down, and his heart being burdened with sadness, he poured forth his feelings in a strain of plaintive melody. The wife of Conrad, attracted by the melancholy tones, came to the door, and invited the youth to enter. She then placed before him the fare her humble house afforded. The boy’s gratitude, ardently expressed, touched her heart, and she invited him to come again. Thus an acquaintance began, and Luther was, after a short time, invited to take up his residence at the house, which he did; and thus, relieved from the evils of poverty, he was able to prosecute his studies. Long after, when his fame filled all Europe, these kind and efficient friends had the pleasure to reflect that the great Reformer was the hungry ballad-singer, whom they had comforted and cherished in the days of poverty.

Having spent five years at Eisenach, Luther was sent, in 1501, to the university of Erfurth, then a respectable seminary, but since suppressed. His father wished him to study law, but he had little inclination for this, and devoted himself to general literature and music, which latter he continued to cultivate through life. At the university, he showed the jovial, careless disposition which generally marks the German student. He was, however, much struck when one day searching for an old book in the library, to meet with a copy of the Bible. He had before thought that all sacred writings were contained in the portions which were read in the churches. This discovery doubtless gave occasion to much reflection.

In 1505, an event occurred, which changed the current of Luther’s thoughts, and gave direction to his future life. He was a lover of nature, and one day indulging his taste in this respect, he was rambling through the fields with a friend. A storm was gathering over their heads, but they continued the conversation, which had relation to some serious subject. In the mind of Luther, the pealing thunder was the type of the future judgment. He turned to speak to his companion, when, at the very instant, the latter was struck dead by a flash of lightning. Luther stood a moment in fear and awe; he then knelt by the side of his companion, and lifting his eyes to Heaven, he made a solemn vow to devote his future life to the service of God. Educated in the Catholic faith, this was equivalent to a vow that he would enter a monastery and become a monk, which he did in 1505, in spite of his father’s remonstrances.

It was in the Augustine convent of Erfurth, that Luther had now taken his vows. With the ardor and sincerity of his character, he devoted himself to religious contemplation; but he did not, in the retirement of the cloister, find the peace he sought and anticipated. He was haunted by temptations, and distressed by scruples and doubts. He discovered what had not before been suggested to his mind, that, in the absence of substantial enemies found in the world, the mind may people the solitary cell with demons, which have the power as effectually to stab our peace.

In the convent Luther at last found a friend, who understood his character and ministered to his spiritual wants. This was Staupnitz, the provincial of the order, or ecclesiastical governor of the Augustine convents in the district of Erfurth. He was an intelligent, honest, and kindhearted man, and by advice, instruction, and encouragement, cleared the mind and lightened the heart of the distracted votary.

The talents of Luther were soon appreciated, and in 1508, at the instance of Staupnitz, he was appointed a professor of philosophy in the university of Wittenberg. He here delivered lectures, which were well attended, and which were marked by a freedom of thought and manner unusual at that day. In 1510, he was sent to Italy, on business connected with the order, which laid the foundation of a great change in his views.

Luther was a sincere votary of the Catholic Church. With the simplicity of an honest mind, he supposed that he should find religion in its utmost purity at Rome, and that the Pope, the head of the church, would be a fit representative of the Holy Apostle of whom he claimed to be the successor. How was he doomed to be disappointed in these views!

On his arrival at the city of Milan, he was received into one of the convents as a guest. Here he found his brethren, instead of devoting themselves to the austerities of religion, as was the case at Wittenberg, addicted to every species of luxury. In the seclusion of their cloisters, they sat down to sumptuous tables, loaded with luscious viands, delicious fruits and choice wines. Sheltered from the observation of the world, they cast aside the forms and ceremonies of their order, and gave themselves up to license and indulgence. Fasts were neglected--penances despised. Luther looked on with horror, and at last, unable to restrain his emotions, broke forth in terms of reprobation of these debaucheries.

The monks, being alarmed lest they should be exposed, caused poison to be administered to Luther;--the dose was slight, and they intended to repeat it; but finding himself unwell in the night, he arose and set forward upon his journey. He thus unconsciously baffled his enemies, though his health suffered for a long time from the effects of the poison he had taken.

Pursuing his way chiefly on foot, Luther at last arrived at Rome. When he reached the city, his heart burning with religious veneration, he knelt down, lifted his hands to Heaven, and exclaimed “I salute thee, Holy Rome, sanctified by the blood of the martyrs!” With an eagerness that nothing could repress, he now ran from place to place, all seeming in his pious imagination to be consecrated ground.

The pope at that time was Julius II. He was a man little calculated to satisfy the views of Luther. He had arisen from an humble condition to the loftiest pitch of earthly power. Nothing could be more directly opposed to the meek spirit of Christianity than his whole soul and character. He was a subtle politician, a bold and ambitious statesman, an impetuous and determined warrior. How was Luther shocked, when he expected to hear of the pious virtues of his Holiness, to find him only spoken of for his gigantic ambition; his worldly policy; his achievements in the field, as commander of his own forces; his magnificent schemes of earthly aggrandizement, alike respecting himself and the papal see!

One of his schemes of ambition was to erect a church at Rome, surpassing all others in magnificence. Accordingly, in 1506, four years before Luther’s arrival, the corner stone of St. Peter’s was laid. In a few months, pushed on by the zeal of the pontiff, the walls were towering over the other churches of Rome; but this precipitation caused the enormous masses to crack, and thus, the progress of the vast enterprise was retarded. It was not till long after that this edifice was finished. The expense was enormous, and it will hereafter be seen that this had a direct connection with the reformation of which Luther was the great instrument.

During his short stay at Rome, Luther beheld the pope in a religious procession. He was raised on a platform, and carried on the shoulders of priests, who deemed it a favor thus to bear the sacred representative of God on earth. His head was bowed upon his breast in token of humility, but he was attired in the most gorgeous robes. His crown glittering with jewels, was borne on a cushion by the highest dignitaries. Then followed others with fans, of peacock and ostrich plumes, which they waved around the person of the pontiff, to guard it from every unhallowed mote. Then came the retinue of cardinals and bishops with crosses and relics, and incense, and music, and lighted tapers, and revered trophies, with all the pomp and circumstance, that human ingenuity, seeking to capture the imagination, could invent. The mighty pageant swept by, “and this,” said Luther, “was all I saw of religion in Rome.”

He stayed but a fortnight in that city. He was disheartened and disgusted with what he saw. Rome was filled with vice of every horrid form, and every degree of enormity. He found, too, that the pope and his cardinals were mere men of the world, that the priests were generally voluptuaries, and many of them open infidels. Admitted as he was to intimacy with many of them, he found that they often made a jest and mockery of the most holy rites, and even while performing the offices of the sacrament, in a sort of by-play turned them into ridicule, and sneered at the deluded people who looked with reverence upon these ceremonies. He hastened back to Germany, his heart distressed, his mind bewildered, his faith shaken. It was this going to Rome, however, that laid the foundation of his subsequent career.

Having returned to Wittenberg, Luther devoted himself to his professorship, seeking peace of mind in a vigorous discharge of its duties. Staupnitz, who saw his great powers, urged him to become a doctor of divinity. Luther consented, and Frederick, Elector of Saxony, and called the Wise, being proud of him, as a native of his dominion, and an ornament of the university, paid the expenses of his inauguration.

Julius II. died February 13, 1513, and the Cardinal Jean de Medicis, under the name of Leo X., became the pope. In 1517, he authorized the sale of indulgences in Germany, as Julius II. had done in France, Poland, &c. The avowed object was to raise money to defray the expenses of the Church of St. Peter’s at Rome, and to sustain the christian league against the Turks. Very little, however, of the vast sums of money obtained, was devoted to the objects for which it was avowedly raised.

The practice of granting indulgences, had existed for centuries before the time of Luther. The Romish Church, assuming to embody the power of Christ, claimed the privilege of remitting the penalty and averting the punishment, here and hereafter, of any sin committed, provided it was confessed and repented of. A penance was often imposed, as the condition of such remission and forgiveness. This penance frequently was commuted for a sum of money, given to the church. Thus money, in the light of penance, became one of the means and instruments by which sin was to be pardoned. From this position, the next step, the sale of indulgences, was obvious and easy. The popes and priests wanted money, and holding the consciences of men in their grasp, they easily laid them under contribution.

Leo’s chief agent in the sale of indulgences was a Dominican monk, by the name of Tetzel. He was a man of high rank and station in the church, and possessed all the address, cunning and effrontery necessary to success in such a business. Clothed with the full power of the pope, and encompassed by all the insignia of the church, his manner was lofty and his aspect imposing. He was paid eighty florins, or forty dollars, a month, beside all his expenses. He was allowed a carriage and three horses. His perquisites, however, far exceeded his regular pay. His success was so great, that at the town of Freyberg, he sold indulgences to the amount of two thousand florins, in two days.

To show the effrontery of the man, thus employed by the pope, we may state that he was guilty of the most abominable profligacy, and though a priest, sworn to celibacy, carried about with him two of his own children! These things, however, did not prevent the success of his traffic. When he came to a place, he went into the church, and set up a cross, with the pope’s arms suspended upon it. He then ascended the pulpit, and addressed the multitude who gathered to hear him.

He declared that indulgences “are the most precious and sublime gifts of God;” that “this cross has as much efficacy as the cross of Christ.” “Draw near, and I will give you letters, duly sealed, by which even the sins you shall hereafter devise and commit, shall all be forgiven you.” “I would not exchange my privileges for those of St. Peter in Heaven, for I have saved more souls with my indulgences, than he with his sermons.” “There is no sin so great that the indulgence cannot remit it”--“only pay largely, and the greatest crime shall be forgiven!” “Even repentance is not indispensable.”

Having thus set forth the tempting qualities of his merchandise, he would appeal to the feelings of his auditors: he would draw terrible pictures of the torments of purgatory, to which they were all exposed, and bright ones of the bliss of the heaven they could so easily purchase; he painted the torments of those already in the fires of hell, and appealed to friends around, to know if they would not buy an indulgence for them--for they could even reach such as had already entered into judgment. “Yes,” said he, “the very moment that the money clinks against the bottom of the chest, the soul escapes from purgatory, and flies free to Heaven!”

Thus every art and device was adopted, to cheat the people into the purchase of these impious, corrupting and fraudulent papers. At the present day, it would be matter of course, that such practices would be punished by confinement in the state’s prison; but at that period, under the high sanction of the church, the fraud was not detected by the mass, and multitudes readily availed themselves of the opportunity to appease their consciences for past crimes, and to fortify themselves in impunity for future iniquity. It is scarcely possible to conceive of the state of darkness into which the minds of men had sunk, at this period. Was it not necessary, that reformation should be wrought in that church, which had brought mankind to this condition?

The people flocked in crowds to Tetzel and his coadjutors. Men and women, the young and the old, the poor, and even beggars, came--and with money too--for such was the eagerness to possess the proffered blessings, that all would in some way obtain the means. Close by the cross, and in the church, the seller had a counter, where he received his money and delivered the indulgences. Confession was administered to the purchaser, but this was a mere form; it was not insisted that penitence must be a condition of pardon. Kings, queens, princes, archbishops and bishops, were to pay twenty-five ducats; abbots, counts, barons, &c., ten ducats. Thus the prices were graduated to the condition of the purchaser; and indeed, special bargains were made suited to the ability of the applicant, and the nature of the sins he wished to expiate.[A]

Although the mass of the people believed in the efficacy of indulgences, and the propriety of their sale, there were many who condemned the whole traffic as a cheat. Among these was a gentleman of Saxony, who heard Tetzel at Leipsic, and was much shocked at the imposture. He went to the church, and asked him if he was authorized to pardon sins of intention--or such as he intended to commit? Tetzel replied in the affirmative, and after some chaffing, the gentleman paid thirty crowns for an indulgence, by which he was to be forgiven for beating one against whom he had a grudge.

Soon after this Tetzel set out from Leipsic, and this Saxon gentleman, overtaking him in the forests of Jutterbock, gave him a severe drubbing, and carried off the box in which he had his treasures. Tetzel raised a great clamor for this act of violence, and brought an action before the judges of the district against the perpetrator. The latter, however, pleaded the indulgence, and was fully acquitted.

Luther, at this time, was professor of Theology at Wittenberg, and he soon had an opportunity of seeing the effects of Tetzel’s operations. Upon some persons under his spiritual charge, he enjoined penance; but they refused to submit to this, declaring that they had been released from every penalty by Tetzel. Luther having denied them absolution, because they would not submit to the prescribed penance, some of them went to Tetzel, and made complaints of Luther. Upon this, the former threatened with punishment, here and hereafter, all those who should deny the efficiency of his indulgences.

(To be continued.)

FOOTNOTE:

[A] The following is a copy of an indulgence, in the common form.

“Our Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on thee, N. N., and absolve thee by the merits of his most holy sufferings! And I, in virtue of the apostolic power committed to me, absolve thee from all ecclesiastical censures, judgments and penalties that thou mayest have merited; and further, from all excesses, sins, and crimes, that thou mayest have committed, however great and enormous they may be, and of whatever kind,--even though they should be reserved to our holy father the Pope, and to the Apostolic See. I efface all the stains of weakness, and all traces of the shame that thou mayest have drawn upon thyself by such actions. I remit the pains that thou wouldst have had to endure in purgatory. I receive thee again to the sacraments of the church. I hereby reincorporate thee in the communion of the saints, and restore thee to the innocence and purity of thy baptism; so that, at the moment of death, the gate of the place of torment shall be shut against thee, and the gate of the paradise of joy shall be opened unto thee. And if thou shouldst live long, this grace continueth unchangeable, till the time of thy end.

“In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

“The brother, John Tetzel, commissary, hath signed this with his own hand.”

The Two Red Cents.

A grocer in Clinton county sold a drunkard a pint of new rum _according to law_, and made _two red cents clear profit_. The drunkard shot his son-in-law while intoxicated; and his apprehension, confinement in jail, execution, &c. cost the county more than _one thousand dollars_--which temperate men had to earn by the sweat of their brows! What say tax-payers? Are you willing to pay a thousand dollars to enable the grog-seller to make _two red cents_?

But this case is comparatively nothing when contrasted with a recent transaction about the 1st of July, 1843. An Indian, one of those half-civilized, rum-loving creatures who abound in the West, stepped out of Cataraugus county into the State of Pennsylvania, where, it seems, men are sold indulgences to sin, as well as in the Empire State; and then filled his pocket-bottle with real “Red-eye,” and the seller of the poison made _two red cents_ clear profit again. While under its maddening influence, he went into a farmer’s house near by with whom he was totally unacquainted, and murdered a mother and five children;--all that comprised the little family, except the husband and father, who was from home. When he returned to his little interesting family what a sight met his eyes!--enough, it would seem, to curdle his blood, and change the man to stone. There lay the mother and her five little ones--from ten years of age down to infancy, stretched upon the floor--swimming in blood, _and all dead_! Oh! what desolation was there!

“No more for him the blazing hearth shall burn,
Or busy housewife ply her evening care;
No children run to lisp their sire’s return,
And climb his knee, the envied kiss to share.”

* * * * *

Misgive, that you may not mistake.

Charlotte Corday.

There are few incidents of the French Revolution more intensely interesting than those which relate to Charlotte Corday. Paris was the scene of the most violent commotions that have ever been witnessed in civilized society. All France was agitated with the strife of parties that wrestled with each other in the capital. The hearts of men seemed to be filled with frenzy. The common bonds of society were rent asunder; new and strange ideas took possession of the minds of the people. In the midst of this excitement, and wrought up by the fever of the time, to a design beyond her sex, Charlotte Corday appeared upon the theatre of action, and arrested even the attention of the maddened populace of Paris, by her heroic self-devotion.

The triumph of the Jacobins over the rival Girondists in May, 1793, rendered their power uncontrollable. Marat was treated with more honor and respect than any individual since the revolution, and exerted a sway in the Convention and the clubs more absolute than was ever before known in bodies styled deliberative. In fact, they submitted to all his whims and caprices, and seemed to derive to themselves honor from the submission. His extravagances were more bearable from the obvious certainty that the wretch was hastening to the grave, and that nothing could save him. His constitution was never good, and at this time, he was preyed upon by a leprous complaint; which adding its ravages to his natural deformity and habitual want of personal cleanliness, rendered him a most disgusting object. But this man of blood was not destined to end his days by disease.

Of the Girondists, some were arrested and executed, others succeeded in escaping, and were outlawed. Of this latter class, a number, among them Barbaroux, he whose beauty of person and energy of mind could move the heart of the philosophic Madame Roland, had taken refuge at Caen. They held daily meetings at the town-hall, and thither frequently came Charlotte Corday, a young lady of stately figure, with an open and intelligent countenance, and about twenty-five years of age. Her deportment was modest; she was of studious and meditative habits, and was a republican before the revolution. In her visits to the town-hall, she was always attended by a servant, and her inquiry was for Barbaroux, with whom she had been long acquainted, and with whom she pretended to have business. She now heard much of the atrocities of the Terrorists; of the ferocity of Marat, who held in his hands the destiny of her country, and what was as much to her, the fate of Barbaroux. Patriotism and love both prompted her to the commission of an act, by which, at the sacrifice of her own life, she should be the savior both of her country and her friend.

A nun of Caen was desirous to obtain some family papers which were in the office of the Minister of the Interior at Paris. Charlotte offered to proceed thither to procure them, and was furnished by Barbaroux, with a letter of introduction to his friend Dupenet, who would aid her in procuring them.

On the 9th of July we find her seated in the diligence, and the details of her journey are thus given in a letter to Barbaroux.

“You requested an account of my journey, and I will not excuse you from the slightest anecdotes. I travelled with good mountaineers, whom I suffered to talk as much as they pleased, and their discourse, which was as absurd as their persons were disagreeable, contributed not a little to lull me to sleep. I was not perfectly awake till I arrived at Paris. One of my fellow travellers, who is, undoubtedly an admirer of sleepy women, took me for the daughter of one of his old friends, supposed me possessed of a fortune which I have not, gave me a name which I never heard, and, in conclusion, offered me his hand and fortune. When I was tired of his conversation, I said, ‘We are admirable comedians, what a pity that, with such talents, we have no spectators; I will go and fetch our fellow-travellers, that they may have their share of the amusement.’ I left him in a very ill humor; all night he sung plaintive songs, excellent procreatives of sleep. At length I parted with him at Paris, refusing to give him my address, or that of my father, of whom he wished to ask me in marriage.”

She delivered her letter to Dupenet, and the ostensible object of her journey was accomplished. But she said nothing of returning. She visited the Convention. Marat was not there, he was confined to his house by sickness. She proceeded thither, but was refused admittance.

She returned to her inn, and despatched a note, telling him that she was from Caen, the seat of rebellion; that she desired earnestly to see him, and would put it in his power to do France a great service. She received no answer. She wrote another note still more pressing, and carried it herself to the door. He was just leaving his bath, but her business was urgent, and she was admitted to his presence. “I am from Caen,” said she, “and wished to speak with you.” “Be seated, my child. What are the traitors doing at Caen? What deputies are at Caen?” He took out his tablets, and wrote down the names as Charlotte gave them,--“Louvet, Petion, Barbaroux; I will have them all guillotined at Paris within a fortnight.” “Then you shall precede them,” exclaimed Charlotte, and plunged a dagger through his heart.

She was at once seized and committed to prison. We will again quote from her letter to Barbaroux. “I expected to have been instantly put to death, but some men, truly courageous, preserved me from the excusable rage of those I had rendered unhappy. As I really preserved my presence of mind, I felt hurt at the exclamations of some women, but those who save their country think nothing of the cost. May peace be established as soon as I wish it! For these two days I have enjoyed a delicious state of mental repose. The happiness of my country constitutes mine; there is no act of self-devotion which does not overpay in pleasure, the pain of resolving to adopt it. I never hated but one single being, and I have demonstrated how violent that hatred was. But there are thousands whom I love with more warmth than I hated him. A lively imagination and a feeling heart promise but a stormy life; I beg those who may regret my fate to think of this, and they will rejoice at seeing me enjoy repose in the Elysian fields with Brutus and a few of the ancients. As for the moderns, there are few real patriots, who know how to die for their country; they are almost all selfish. What a people to form a republic! I am exceedingly well accommodated in my prison; the jailors are the best kind of people in the world; to keep away _ennui_ they have placed soldiers in my room. I have no objection to make to this by day, but by night it is not so pleasant. I have complained of the indecency, but no one has thought fit to attend to my remonstrance.... My trial comes on to-morrow at eight; probably at noon, according to the Roman phrase, _I shall have lived_. I cannot say how I shall encounter my last moments; I have no need to affect insensibility, for I never yet knew the fear of death, and never loved life but in proportion to its possible utility.”

On the 17th of July she was put on trial, and avowed the fact and all the circumstances, alleging, as justification, that she considered Marat a criminal already convicted by public opinion, and that she had a right to put him to death. She added, that she did not expect to have been brought to trial, but to have been delivered up to the rage of the populace, torn to pieces, and that her head, borne on a pike before the corpse of Marat, would have served as a rallying point to Frenchmen, if any still existed worthy of the name.

She was led from the place of trial to that of execution. On the way she displayed a firmness and tranquillity which even awed into silence the _poissardes_, those furies of the guillotine, who in general pursued the victim to death with execrations and reproaches. She submitted to her fate with the same composure that had marked all her previous conduct.

The circumstances which attended this extraordinary action, the privacy with which it was concerted, the resolution with which it was executed, the openness of confession, the contempt of punishment, and, above all, the execrable character of the monster who was the subject of it, have taken off so much of the horror generally felt at an act of assassination, that the name of Charlotte Corday is generally pronounced with respect and a great degree of admiration.

* * * * *

GRAMMATICAL WITTICISM.--“Bobby, what’s steam?” “Boiling water.” “That’s right. Compare it.” “Positive, _boil_; comparative, _boiler_; superlative, _burst_.”

Conjugal Affection.