seasons, weatheres, winds, and tides, together with divers rare and excellente receipts, and much new and interestynge intelligence of Astrologie and Witchcrafte, that in that same yere came there an exceedynge marvellous bewitchment of the cattle, in some parts of England, insomuch that they were like unto those with devils possessed, and there would have been no telling what would come of it, had there not been those cunnynge in the use of charmes, wherebye they did exercise the foul fiends, and by God's help put a stay to that pest.' Having thus much light before his eyes, it became his bounden duty to prevent the like contagion, and not to permit his cow to bewitch all the orderly cows in the neighborhood. A consultation was forthwith held, at which his spouse was inclined to differ from him in opinion, but at last dutifully gave up the point, and it was deemed necessary to resort to extremities. He lost no time in detaching a horse-shoe from the door-post, and having piled the hearth with faggots, placed it upon the coals, until it should become red hot. The shades of night had already begun to descend when, attended by his wife, he marched with solemn pace into the cow-yard. He carried in his arms a cleaver and a block, having fully made up his mind to cut off the animal's tail. This was a painful business, but a necessitous one, and it wrung his benevolent heart. For assuredly,' said he, 'it is better to decapitate the tail, than to lose the entire cow.' They found the devoted animal standing beneath a shed, chewing her cud, and apparently in the enjoyment of a lucid interval. Approaching her with all the soothing arts which were so effectual before her estrangement, he had just raised the cleaver in the air, when, actuated by a sudden impulse, she made a flying vault, and laid him prostrate in the dust. A crisis was at hand. Mrs. Marsden reinforced him immediately. She seized hold of the tail, and drawing back with all her main, reined in the refractory cow. The appearance of the animal was at this moment terrific. She roared like a mad bull, her eyes glared, her hoofs tossed the dirt, and altogether she was as much possessed as the hogs that ran into the Sea of Galilee. Rising up all trembling from the earth, he again returned to the onset, and making a decided blow, effected an amputation of the tail very near its junction with the back bone. Then seizing the fallen member, he rushed to the house, and plung ing it in the burning coals, where a horse-shoe was lying at a white heat, uttered these mystic words: Horum Quorum Spiritorum Sidera Diabolus Gemini Taurus! The witches were unable to stand this summary mode of proceeding. They vanished forthwith, leaving the cow in her right mind. And she remained so until her dying day, which very unfortunately came shortly after. Thus much for witchcraft; and let no one be astonished at a man of so much sagacity as Mr. Marsden, for yielding to such a belief. For the time has been, when the agency of familiar spirits has engrossed the attention of the most learned judges, the most wise counsellors, and the most holy ministers of God; and whoever pretended even to doubt their existence, was accounted an 'ignorant Sadducee.' So distinguished a man as Bishop Jewel, in a sermon preached before the queen, in 1558, tells her: May it please your Majesty to understand, that witches and sorcerers, within these four last years, are marvellously increased within your Majesty's realm. Your Majesty's subjects pine away, even unto death; their color fadeth, their flesh rotteth, their speech is benumbed, their senses are bereft; I pray God they never practice further upon the subject.' Did not King James, at his succession to the throne of Elizabeth, publish his royal Treatise on Dæmonologie,' with a preface about witches or enchanters, 'those detestable slaves of the devil?' Need I remind you of the disastrous spread of this belief among the Puritans of New-England, and how many were brought to a violent death for their supposed compact with Satan? Did not Addison, in the Spectator, acknowledge that such things once were? In short, this same belief is found to exist among many portions of the civilized world, even unto this day. Mr. Marsden, to the scandal of the clergy, never entered the doors of a church. He was, however, a bit of a theologian. His system was founded mostly on the Old Testament, and when occasion offered, he was very fond of a little discussion about the WITch of ENDOR. In fact, this scrupulous story was his strong hold, and lay at the very bottom of his belief in witchcraft. So long as he was thus safely moored upon the Bible, he felt that no argument could confound him. He held long conversations with the justice of the peace, who being obstinately opposed to his belief, disputed loudly, and with much passion, upon the subject. But Mr. Marsden was ruffled never a bit, and after listening very meekly, invariably handed him over to the witch of Endor, and slightly tapping the Bible, where the whole matter was recorded in black and white, requested him to ' answer him to that.' Unlike many of the self-righteous persons of the present day, he modestly supposed himself unworthy a place in heaven. He believed there was a middle place,' not exactly in heaven, but pretty well out of the suburbs of hell, about equi-distant from both, where persons of his humble pretensions might pursue the line of their earthly rectitude. There he hoped for admittance, having always striven to do 'the thing that was right.' In all his long life, he travelled very little beyond his circuit, which included a circumference of about five miles. He once made a journey to New-York, where he supposed that all men were as honest as himself, and frankly told whence he came, whither he was going, and for what purpose. But some villains maltreated him sadly, cutting out his waistcoat pockets, and robbing him of his tin pill-boxes, which were full of sixpences to the brim. After that, his confidence in the world was entirely demolished, and he scarcely ventured beyond the precincts of his home. A few years have elapsed, since this worthy man was suddenly missed from his customary rounds. It was reported that he was sick, and shortly after slipping unnoticed into the tomb, it was announced to the little world where he moved, and to their great grief, that he too had departed to his fathers. EPIGRAM. VAIN is thy labor, to create From all that little is, the great: Reverse it turn the great to little, 'T will suit thy genius to a tittle. TEARS. BY HON. CHIEF JUSTICE MELLEN, MAINE. CRYSTALS, where are your recesses, Why should sudden bursts of feeling, Into deep and dark'ning grief? Crystal tears, so freely pouring, Tell when gentle gales are blowing Round the heart, and when the storm: Messengers of gladness, rushing, Bearing orders from the heart; Showering cheeks, in beauty blushing, Messengers of deepest sorrow, Messengers from hearts despairing, TO E. R. F. · Ζίνη μοῦ σας ἀγαπῶ. YOUTH on thy cheek, and heaven in thine eye, And the calm moon hangs o'er the eddying water; Outshone by one alone, the Star of Bethlehem! H. W. R. RECOLLECTIONS OF A RESIDENCE IN EUROPE. SCENES IN PARIS. A BALL AT THE HOTEL OF THE MINISTER OF THE -- The honor of the most splendid fête which Paris had seen since the accession of the citizen king, belonged to the late president of the council, Casimir Perier. It was the ambition of the Minister of -, to eclipse the fame of the French Lucullus. A ball, projected for many months, was the great topic of conversation in the courtly circles of the metropolis, and of incessant speculation in the journals of the fashionable world. A report by some means got into circulation, that one object of the minister was, to collect an assembly of the most beautiful women ever seen in France; that to effect this, great personal attractions would alone secure an invitation ; and, with the exception of persons of the most eminent rank and fashion, that no others could expect to be admitted. Such an intimation, of course, produced great excitement. Those who had held undisputed possession of the saloons of the metropolis, trembled lest this new and revolutionary principle should cut them off from the enjoyment of rights they regarded as indefeisible; while others, in whom the want of rank or wealth had suppressed all bope of admission into the first circles of the capitol, found an unexpected resource, in that most plebeian of accomplishments, their beauty. This painful sus. pense continued several weeks. At length, the distribution of invitations terminated a period of so much anxiety. Last of all, came the eventful evening. I left my rooms at an earlier hour than is usual with me on such occasions, that I might mark the arrival of the guests, and recognise the more distinguished, as they were announced and entered. More than three thousand invitations had been issued. To prevent the confusion apprehended from so great a multitude of equipages, crowded in the narrow and tangled streets of the Faubourg Si. Germain, a note was appended to the invitations, requesting that we would approach by the Rue de , or the Rue du I crossed the Pont Louis Quinze, a little before nine. Along the quai, on the southern side of the river, I found parties of the municipal Guard à Cheval, stationed to preserve order; and on turning into the Rue de — I was soon arrested by a queue, or train of carriages, formed, under the direction of the guard, in a line on one side of the street. Every two or three minutes, these carriages moved forward a few feet, then stopped, until some voiture, at the head of the line, a quarter of a mile off, could discharge its load at the hotel of the minister. On the other side of the street, a thoroughfare was kept open. From time to time, an equipage would dash down this closely-guarded way; and if recognised by the police to belong to a foreign minister, or a member of either chamber, was permitted to pass. Other carriages attempting the same thing, were invariably iurned back, and, not unfrequently, after an angry struggle between the guards and the coachman. Despairing of reaching the hotel by this street, 1 directed a my driver to try the approach by the Rue du — I gained little by the change. Finding that every moment added to the long and constantly increasing line, I ordered my carriage to be joined to the queue, as the last alternative. I folded my cloak over my breast, and amused myself with counterfeiting a resignation I was far from enjoying. Three quarters of an hour elapsed, before I reached the hotel. The entrance was brilliantly illuminated ; and a large open square, a little to the left, was covered with pyramids of lamps. It was more than an hour since I left my lodgings, less than a mile distant. I loitered a few minutes near the door of the ante-room, to listen to the names of those who entered; but the multitude was so great as to weary my attention. Indeed, the rooms were already crowded, and I concluded that most of the great personages likely to be present, had arrived before me. A series of five elevated and spacious apartments, opening into each other, extended through the whole length of the building Beyond these, in the rear, a gallery, erected for the occasion, formed a magnificent promenade, capable of holding more than two thousand persons. The whole scene was one of most unusual splendor. The grandeur of the rooms, the richness of the hangings, the profusion of light from so many chandeliers, of the costliest workmanship, in gold and glass of the purest transparency, the indescribable variety and elegance of the female costumes, and the dazzling brilliancy of the military and diplomatic dresses, covered with decorations, formed a picture it is in vain to attempt to describe. Two rooms only were prepared for dancing; the rest were carpeted. Following the crowd, I ascended a couple of steps, which led from the apartment I had first entered to the gallery in the rear, Here I succeeded in obtaining a position that commanded a view of the gallery, of the two dancing rooms, and the ante-room I had just left. Not far from me stood the Turkish ambassador. He was dressed in a rich oriental costume, which not even his dignified and noble figure could redeem from an air of eastern lasciviousness and effeminacy. If I viewed his dress with aversion, I beheld his face with equal astonishment. If ever man's countenance was made in the image of his Maker's, his might be said to have been. Full of serene thought and compassionate humanity, venerable with years, reflec. tion was stamped in its every lineament. He stood apart from others, looking on the scene around him, mute, absent, unconcerned, to all appearance buried in deep meditation. Here, alone, among Christians, he was the solitary representative of a religion which once threatened to extinguish Christianity itself. He stood in the capitol of the European world. The ministers of a great king were in the assembly before him ; the generals of his armies mingled in the crowd; all the beauty and fashion of his court were there, buoyant with life and health ; and it seemed to me, I could read, in the silent expres. sion of his face, the thoughts that passed through his mind. Admiration of the greatness of Christian civilization, and a profound desire to penetrate the mystery of its future history, seemed mingled with the melancholy reflections suggested by the contrast of its ascendant fortune with the decaying greatness of Mohammedan power, and the contemplation of his own fast perishing race. I gazed on the noble VOL. XII, 42 |