"My God! all thy ways are perfect!" said Mr. Brown, bending over one of the dead bodies in the yard, and recognizing the sword and belt of his murdered son! The prisoners were conducted to Trenton, where they were astonished to find the American army as sembled, and a thousand of their companions prisoners. Mary and Charles were removed to the residence of Mr. Brown, which was in the immediate vicinity. That day Washington again retired to the Pennsylvania side of the river, but shortly returned to Trenton, which, for a limited time, was made his head-quarters. Many officers attended the funeral of Mr. Barton, testifying their sympathy for Mary, and, at the same time, bestowing deserved praise on the heroism of Charles. On his recovery, Charles hastened to the camp, and was speedily in possession of a commission. In most of the perilous transactions that ensued, he took a dutiful, and not unfrequently a distinguished part, up to the capture of lord Cornwallis. After the cessation of hostilities, he still continued at his post, now a colonel in the regular service. He was at Frances' tavern, in New York, when his venerated commander took his memorable farewell of his beloved comrades. He too, in silence, pressed the hand of Washington. Now, with bright prospects and blissful anticipa tions, Charles was returning to claim his bride. He paced along on the same noble bay charger that formerly conveyed him to that dread scene of desolation. He lingered a few moments at the now uninhabited dwelling of Mr. Barton Much of the injury done by the besieging Hessians, had been repaired for the reception of himself and Mary; yet he could easily trace many marks of bullets yet remaining on the walls. He turned away, mounted his faithful steed, and striking into a brisk pace, quickly halted at the gate of the good old minister. He was met in the yard by Mary, who ran out, and throwing herself in his arms, could only utter "Charles! Charles !" 4 NOT when all earth is sleeping, To watch my spirit's flight; Not when the tempest's raging; Not when the winds are high, And warrior storms engaging, Spread darkness o'er the sky; Not in the field of battle, Amid the cannon's roar, When death-shots round me rattle, Stained with my fellow's gore; Not in the boundless ocean, When all around is dark, And when its great commotion Tosses the fragile bark; Not where some classic fountain Rolls its pure stream along ; Not on the vine-clad mountain, Nor in the land of song, Wish I to die! But in the silent even, Its brightest colors shows; His golden, gorgeous dyes; When the light zephyrs straying, Shall kiss my feverish cheek, And round my temples playing, In gentle whispers speak; When softest prayer is hushing The voice of grief, then low, And one dear being's brushing The death-damps from my brow; When on my ear is falling Music that calms the breast, And angel bands are calling My spirit to its rest, I wish to die! A GENTLEMAN'S REMORSE. EXTRACTED FROM THE MANUSCRIPT DIARY OF AN ENGLISH GENTLEMAN TRAVELLING IN ITALY, IN THE YEAR 16-. towards him suddenly, his face brightening up, as though he had seen the pleasantest sight in the world. When the elder gentleman saw the duke making that way, he alighted from his horse and walked up to his highness, and would have knelt; but the duke preventing him, embraced him very lovingly, crying good company; and now you come, I know it, on some business--some business of bounty." The old gentleman, smiling afresh, and bowing very graciously, said-" With your highness's permission, I have come to kiss your hands, and learn your health, if not to see the show." "Truly, signor mio," said the duke, "few heads so old as yours would have leisure or content enough to take pleasure in these levities; but you have kept a young heart, preserving it in the sweet. man bowed and laughed, like one who would not bandy words, knowing they would but run in the same course; and so the Grand Duke walked back to his station, keeping the old gentleman very close by him, like a brother, or a very dear friend. Tuis day, being the feast of St. John, I put on my yellow vest and doublet, richly laced with gold, with buttons of topaz, and my black velvet cloak lined with yellow silk, with a clasp curiously wrought in jet, with a topaz in the midst, and diamond at the ends, with a black cap and feather, turned up with yellow, and a diamond clasp. On my legs I wore silken hose." Signor Alberto, not often are we gifted with your with boots of fine undressed leather. I did place the sword with a rich diamond hilt, the which was given me by the Duke of Venice, in a black velvet scabbard that I had to match the cloak. Having ruffled out my fine feathers in this guise, I went forth to see the show, and to pay my respects to the duke. Under standing how there was to be a review in the place of St. Mary the Greater, I went thither on foot, being joined by signor Federigo, signor Checco,* signor Olaffe, and other brave young gentlemen. Beingness of your dispositions." Whereat the old gentlecome to the great square, the Grand Duke saw me, and motioned me to come to him, which presently I did. Having made my bow, I placed myself behind to see the show. Presently there was a great shouting at the corner on the left hand of the church, which was to greet the coming of signor Pietro Buo- And now I had more leisure to observe the two naroti, a most noble gentleman to look at, and of mag- men that were with him. One of them was a brave nificent living. After these were other shoutings-looking young man, very decent in his comportment, now for this gentleman-now for that, at whose like the lackey of a gentleman of respect. But the coming our circle somewhat increased itself, albeit other was very notable among servants. He wore a the duke always kept me near him, being pleased to serving man's dress, and had taken the rein of the old do me honor. Presently, in the opposite corner, was gentleman's horse, snatching it, as I thought, with a a great noise and shouting, the which died not off a rude kind of greediness. He was a very noble again, but it kept up, even till the crowd opening, looking man, that might have graced any title or stathere issued from amongst them three men on horse- tion. His stature was tall and comely, but meagre back. The first, who might seem the master, was on withal; his hair a grizzled black; his face very pale, a white horse, small and stout, like a Flemish breed anxious, and melancholic, and his eye large, black, He was dressed somewhat plain, wearing blue clothes dark skinned, and deeply set under his brow; his with white trimmings, but very plain. He seemed action was majestical as any prince, and he rode as about fifty, or indeed more, for his hair and beard if he were born to command rather than to serve: were quite white, and the top of his head was bald; whilst I was observing him, the duke beckoned a for he carried his hat on the fist of his right hand, like gentleman and whispering him, sent him to this lackey a hawk, for coolness. His face was smooth and ruddy, of signor Alberto, as the old gentleman was called. I and he smiled like any child; and truly, when he saw the gentleman go up to him; but certainly I drew nigh, methought I had no where, nor at any thought that my eyes were distraught, when they time, seen a more lovely countenance. His eyes were made me see that the gentleman, pulling off his hat soft and bright, like a young girl's, albeit they had a with respective gravity, bowed very low, and said few wrinkles at the corner. Ever, as he rode, he something to the tall lackey; at which he turned to kept bowing his head to the people, who, on their part. his fellow, and seemed very humbly to ask him to shout so lustily and variously, that all was a Babel take the beasts in charge; for presently dismounting, like confusion, and none might distinguish what he he accompanied the gentleman to the duke. When Soon as the Grand Duke saw him, he walked he had knelt, and kissed his highness's hand, the duke raised him up, and embraced, and then spake with him in a very courteous guise; but I was not near said. *The English mode of writing at the time-for Cecco. the familiar form of Francesco. + Wno signor Olaffe may be, or what the true or- enough to hear the matter of their discourse. When thography of his name, we cannot divine. the duke had done, he stepped behind, and several When it was over, I heard one say that the duke was going to signor Alberto's, at which many smiled And one gentleman said that Alberto never came into the city without returning heavily and richly ladennamely, with the Grand Duke. But a few looked very sullen; it might be because they would be disappointed of the gala in the evening; for I found that the duke went attended very slightly. Whilst they were talking of these things, which I only half under stood, because of their newness, the Grand Duke made a sign to me, and I drew nigh. "Signor Le-silé." said he, (for so he calls me, not being ready at my name.) I must take you with me, with signor Alberto's good leave." Signor Alberto took me by the hand, and said that he should be proud to take me home with him, if I could pardon his rude entertainment. And so we set forth Now I found that only two gentlemen went besides the Grand Duke and me. The tall lackey held signor Alberto's stirrup, and rode behind him with his fellow as before. Signor Alberto's house lay a mile or so without the walls, up a pleasant hill, in a vineyard As we passed in at the gate, one of the gentlemen who accompanied us, whom I knew very well, said to me, "You should know, sir, that as soon as ever the duke passes these gates, he will not be called by his title any more, nor be treated in any respect differently from other gentlemen. He says, with a most pleasant and true conceit, that this is the Land of Goodness, where signor Alberto is sovereign ; any with less veracity, that himself is not of very high rank therein. "What then, sir, does it please his highness to be styled?" Signor Lorenzo, nothing more; and it displeases him to be treated with ceremony." We spent long time in the gardens most pleasantly. being served with sherbet and fruits, and ices, and greedily devouring the discourses of signor Alberto and the Grand Duke, and admiring that the Grand Duke was always called plain Master Laurence, and did discourse most pleasantly, and methought he never seemed so merry. withal respectfully, and like one who was something melancholy. Truly, the time we spent with signor Alberto was most pleasant, and he invited me, with great show of kindness, to come often to his house. We took leave so late as nine o'clock of the night, returning to town by dark. A son of signor Alberto's attended the Grand Duke to town, and servants with torches. Passing outside the gates, the Grand Duke again became his highness, which was a most strange power of the gates. It chanced that one of signor Alberto's sons did also ride with us, to do me honor, a sudden friendship having chanced between us; he being mighty curious about our country, and our ships, and the like, and desiring to see all. I did take what advantage I could of this, being very curious to know who was that tall lackey of signor Alberto's, and so I heard his story. This tall man is a signor Giovanni Strozzi, a most powerful noble, by his natural birth right. He and signor Alberto, being young, did both love the same lady; but signor Alberto was the most favored. Signor Alberto was very high fortuned, and did rejoice in all good favors, insomuch that he lived very magnificently, keeping a most goodly train, like a sovereign prince. He and the Grand Duke were close friends, (the father of the present,) and in all things he outshone signor Giovanni as the sun might do the moon. Whereat signor Giovanni did conceive so passionate a malice, that he could not brook it, and often provoked the other with unmannerly words; but this signor Alberto regarded not, as one that had the best of the matter. Soon after signor Alberto was married, (which was done with great pomp,) Giovanni, being pushed on by his devilish malice and jealousy, did compass to seize the lady, and conveyed her away to a castle of his. Signor Alberto was wild with wrath, and assembling his people, set forth to recover her, and partly by the of the Grand Duke, (who sent succors very suddenly,) partly by happy for Giovanni that he was hack. It was Grand Duke's orders, or certainly signor Alberto would have slain him in his wrath. The lady discovered that Giovanni had tried to seduce her, and after, like a new Tarquin, had tried a shorter way to his will; but happily she brought back her virtue. But she had been so sore frighted with these violences, breaking in upon her hymeneal contentment, that she died presently. and Then signor Alberto became a changed man, very melancholy for the loss of his love; but being he was withal a very devout and virtuous man, weaned from worldly vanities, and he said he repent Presently we were called in to a goodly entertain ment which had been prepared for us. Signor Alberto took his place at the head of the table, with the Grand Duke on his right hand, and me on his left. The tall lackey, not forgetting his duties, which heed him of many things, particularly towards Giovanni, filled so strangely, placed himself, not behind the Grand Duke, but behind signor Alberto; and he served him during the dinner so eagerly, that it seemed to me, now he was an officious servitor, now a most dutiful and tender son. The Grand Duke sometimes spake with him pleasantly, and he answered easily, like one bred to a high station, showing a ready wit; but * Mr. John Leslie, the writer of the Diary. saying that his misfortune was a punishment for the vain-glory that had provoked Giovanni to so much; and he prayed of the Grand Duke to release him, "as an atonement to heaven for his friend," and it was done. Now, when Giovanni was released, he did set to work still to satisfy his greedy revenge; for the last benefit he did hold a most notable injury and indignity. So, one night, with many bravoes, he set upon signor Alberto in his own vineyard, and left him for dead; | landed, he procured pardon for all who were subjects but being himself wounded in the leg, by one of his own base companions in the dark, he was left by them in the open road, and taken by signor Alberto's servants, who conveyed him straightway to the Grand Duke, for fear their master should oblige them to release him, and he was sent to the gallies. Now about this time the gallies were badly ordered and victualled, and signor Alberto, who had not with drawn himself from good works, did busy himself in mending the condition of the miserable malefactors, in getting them priests, and better food and lodging. One day he chanced to visit one of these gallies with the Grand Duke, and there he saw Giovanni, who had been newly removed; and Giovanni, looking at him sternly, said, "It is worthy of the fine signor Alberto to mock his enemy, who is helpless and unarmed." Thereat signor Alberto burst into tears, to see his mise rable state, sitting in chains, with his hair and beard uncombed, and the prison clothes on. "God knows, signor Giovanni," said he, "that I did not expect to find you here, and how sad it makes me to see you so low." And so he knelt down, and prayed the Grand Duke to release his enemy, even though he put the irons on his legs who had helped to place him there-meaning himself. And so with much labor he procured his freedom, and Giovanni left the country, and became a Turk. Now a war broke out with some Turks of Barbary about certain vessels they had seized, and Alberto commanded a galley in the battle, and was taken pri soner. It chanced that the galley which took him was commanded by the renegade, Giovanni, who had many Christians under him, renegades like himself, as knowing best how to command them. Finding he had his enemy in his power, he was transported with new rage. He made them shave his head, and put him in mean clothes, and bare his back, and so flog him with ropes. Then he changed his humor, and med ave put him on be richly clad, and som. This was for payment of his own freedom, being a right noble and proud gentle man, though so devilishly wicked. But a terrible storm arose, so that they could not land. The sailors were sore frighted, and being Christians, they repented of their sins, and setting Alberto free, made him their captain. They would have slain Giovanni in the turmoil, but Alberto defended him at the peril of his life, and by blows and good words made them be pacified. But Giovanni did not escape so well, but he got a bad wound, which nigh killed him. They made for the port whence Alberto had come, and being of the Grand Duke-the more easily that they brought him back. All this while Giovanni was insensible, and Alberto, being master of the Grand Duke's friendship, again procured him pardon, and the return of all his possessions, to the wonder of all, at his obstinate generosity, and the Grand Duke's easiness, so that he came to life again in his own house. When he recovered, he was at first strangely bewildered; but when he found where he was, and how, he sent straightway for a priest, and confessed like a good Christian, and was absolved of all his sins. Then he sent for his brother, and putting on plain clothes, like a mean man, he made all his people leave their arms, and follow him to signor Alberto's house. Signor Alberto's people seeing so great a force, were alarmed, and shut the gates; but signor Alberto, hearing that they were all unarmed, made them be let into the court. Then signor Giovanni, standing over against signor Alberto, before all, confessed how he had wickedly striven to take away his life, and how, in spite of many benefits, conferred in all Christian charity and humility, he had been still hardened, and most devilishly bent on his destruction; to such a pass that he had forsaken the true religion in that hope; and, lastly, how he might have died in that accursed condition, but signor Alberto, at the peril of his precious life, had saved him, body and soul. And now he repented him bitterly of his immeasureable wickedness, and thought that he should still die of grief, if signor Alberto would not help him in his penance. And so he gave up all his lands and houses to his brother, and besought Alberto to receive him as his servant. At first signor Alberto would not hear him, but would have embraced him. But signor Giovanni, with abundance of tears and importunate prayers, at length oh is wish. There were those who nought this but a new stratagem of Giovanni to get signor Alberto in his power, and would have had signor Alberto mistrust him; but he did scem to trust him the more for their suspicions. And they were mistaken; for signor Giovanni proved a most faithful and loving servant; and signor Alberto received his services withal so lovingly, that all say it is a most strange and lovely sight, to see goodness overmaster wickedness, even on this earth, so as to make it like unto itself; and signor Giovanni, who hath most excellent parts, and a noble temper, is held more great and honorable as a poor lackey, than when he was the master of fair lands and castles, with a princely train. THE SEAT OF INFA MY. BY DOUGLAS JERROLD, ENGLAND. It was noon, and the citizens of learned Padua | stopped with the bloody mire of fame, Creso could have swarmed towards the Palazzo de Rigione. It was plain, there was some show afoot: some quacksalver hot from Venice; or, perhaps, some beatific Filippo Neri, with new-made relics, fresh from Rome. . Of a surety, it was something rare and strange that drew hundreds as one man towards the same spot. was 'Tis forty years since such a thing was seen," said an old man, who, his shaking hand grasping a staff, and leaning on the shoulder of his grandson, hobbled onwards as though he hastened to a shrine where youth and health might be had for kneeling. "Ha' ba! that I should live to see this!" crowed a withered beldam, and she clapt her hands and sprang forward like a witch at the Sabbath. "Could any man have looked for it?" asked a grave tradesman of his neighbor, as they both went with the crowd. It seemed that all the people of Padua were assembled at the hall. It was with much labor that the city-guards kept the multitude close-wedged, so vigorously did every one press to behold-what? A eriminal, in shameful nakedness, seated on a low round stone at the end of the hall-on the Stone of Infamy. The culprit was an old man, with that in his face which makes old age terrible. Years lay heavily upon his back, but a defying scorn had, for a time, flung off the load, and he sat upright as a staff. He sat, and his eyes glowed like burning coals upon the crowd that pressed to stare at him. He looked back the looks of hundreds, who quailed from his eyes as from the eyes of a snake. Many a rejoicing foe, who came to chuckle at the sight, shrank back, still fearful of his ancient enemy. There was a tumult in the heart of the old man-a fire in his brain-as he caught the eager face of many a fellow-citizen; and he would tighten his arms across his breast as though holding in a passion that swelled to burst it. Old Creso Quattrino sat nakedly upon the stone of infamy-his grave was dng at his foot-and yet no despot from his throne could have looked more fiercely, more contemptuously around him. The crowd heeded not the fate of the victim, but-his grave was dug at his living foot. Creso Quattrino was the youngest son of a noble, though impoverished house. His elder brothers talked of glory, and cut their daily bread with hired-out swords. One by one, they died in their vocation, and still the eulogy that Creso uttered over each, was "fool." Creso, in early life, became a trader; it was his one hope to "die rich;" it would be his glory to quit life leaving heavy coffers. Fortune smiled upon his desire; and ere the mouth of his first brother was " thrice outweighed the helm, cuirass, and sword of the immortal warrior with merchant's gold. His four brothers, hired by four different states, died in battle. They have their laurels," Creso would cry, with a sneering humility—“ I have only ducats. They are sleeping on the wide bed of glory, and when the his| torian shall some day make known that in such a skirmish such a king was repulsed, such a duke was victorious, such a count kept his ground with a trifling loss, he will write in everlasting words the glowing epithets of my happy brothers." This humor increased with the wealth, with the years of Creso. With him, gold was power-was repútation: no strength could overcome it-no shame could tarnish it. He looked upon his ducats as kings look upon their mercenaries-the instruments of his will, the sure doers of his behests, however vile and ruthless. He was that squalid despot-a tyrannous miser. And he would die rich! Creso was past forty, when, with his gold he bought himself a wife-a creature of lustrous beauty-the eldest child of Marco Spori, a poor trader of Padua. Marco was doomed for a petty sum in the books of the man of wealth; early and late he toiled to pay his creditor, and still some new misfortune made the labor vain. Creso, with a grim smile, would proffer farther aid, and then would praise the gentle looks of Marianna. "No, Messer Quattrino," cried Marco, awakening to the meaning of his patron," Marianna is wedded." Wedded!" exclaimed Quattrino, and his face darkened-" wedded!" 44 "In promise," said Marco; "'tis all as one, Messer Quattrino, if I understand you rightly." "Betrothed? To whom, friend Marco?" asked Quattrino, with constrained composure; for love-or call the feeling by a grosser name-before unknown to the miser, had made him like one possessed. "To Pietro Leti." "Doubtless, some wealthy merchant? No? Humph? A scholar, perhaps, with a tongue silvery as Satan's? Is your future son-in-law, goed Marco Spori, of the 'Inflammati,' or ?-" |