doom of the Christian, who, in defiance of holy writ, and in contempt of the formularies of his Church, calls up the souls and bodies of the dead to perpetrate deeds of revenge against the living, and to perform the tricks of the conjurer to gratify the prurient curiosity of fools?

cred from the flesh are in joy and felicity— that the faithful sleep in Jesus, and rest in him and that the souls of them that sleep in the Lord enjoy perpetual rest and felicity.

If the dead can be raised from the grave to appear again upon earth, either in the flesh or in the spirit, then "Christ is not the first We appeal not to the Presbyterian, for he fruits of them that sleep." Then death can despises the spirit-rapper; but we remind have no sting, and the grave no victory! If the members of our sister-Church, that they the human worm that is said to have crawled pray "to be spared before they go hence, at the foot of its confessor, and to have vioand be no more seen; -we remind them of lated oral and written oaths, can unlock the their belief, that "the dead who die in the holy sanctuary of the dead, and disport with Lord rest from their labors "—that death hath their mutilated remains before the living, he put all things under his feet-that God takes has anticipated the blast of the dread trumpet unto himself the souls of the departed that which is to summon the mighty dead from the spirits of the departed live with God— their graves, and usher in the great assize that the souls of the faithful who are deliv- that is to fix the immortal destiny of man.

SEEING AN AVALANCHE PASS.--Mr. Francis Galton, a well known English traveller, and member of the "Alpine Club," has this summer made a singular experience. He discovered a spot on the Jungfrau range, where he might stand in safety and watch the avalanches sweeping past him, within thirty feet of his person. In one half day he saw three descents. The avalanches slid two thousand feet, then leaped two great bounds of a thousand feet more to the channel, close to which he was standing, and then burst out at the foot of the channel," like a storm of shrapnell." Mr. Galton describes the general appearance of the avalanche when seen at so short a distance, as that of "an orderly mob filling the street and hastening, not hurrying, to the same object." Something of the same impression is made upon one who looks attentively at the great sheet of water which rolls slowly down on the Canadian side of the falls at Niagara. The motion is majestically deliberate, and, though swift, not hurried. The noise of the avalanche in motion Mr. Galton likens to "the sound of a rapid tide rushing up many channels." The avalanche is described as consisting of a mass of ice-balls, usually from a foot to a yard in diameter, which produce "the fearful rattle of the ice-cascade,'

DR. BARTLETT, OF THE NEW YORK ALBION.Dr. John Sherren Bartlet, formerly editor of the New York Albion, whose death has recently been announced, was born in 1790, in Dorsetshire, England, was educated as a physician, in London and appointed surgeon in the British navy in 1812; sailed to the West Indies in the packet Swallow; was captured by the American frigates

Princeton and Congress, under Commodore Rogers, and remained in prison in Boston until discharged in 1813. At the close of the war, he married a Boston lady, and established himself in this city as a physician. The Albion was established by him in 1822, as an English organ of conservative politics. Though sustaining the interests of a foreign government and its people, he always did this without offending the feelings, or losing in any degree the respect of the community in the midst of which he lived and moved, honored and respected for so many years. Owing to the failure of his health, he felt himself obliged to retire from editorial life in 1848, and was regarded by his contemporaries of the press, as well as by his readers, with sincere regret.

At the commencement of Atlantic steam navigation he established at Liverpool a paper called The European, a weekly compendium of the latest news for American circulation. In 1855 he resumed journalism, by issuing the The Anglo-Saxon a weekly paper published in Boston, and which he continued for about two years. In 1857 he served a short time as British Consul at Baltimore. His death occurred at Middletown, Ct., where he has lately been residing. His remains are to be sent to Boston for sepulture.

Dr. Bartlett was a member of the St. George's Society in New York for nearly forty years, and was for some time its President.-Boston Journal.

FOUR great Boulevards will be inaugurated in Paris on the 12th of August, viz.: the Boulevard Latour Maubourg, Boulevard Passy, Boulevard Beaujon, and the right river-side of the Boulevard de Sebastopol.

From The Cornhill Magazine. "MRS. ARCHIE."

I.

it pleased Heaven to leave him, but dreading nothing upon earth so much as change of any kind. His wife-" Aunt Janette," as she

The dwelling-house at Glenrig lay towards was called by some scores of nephews and the sea, under sheltering hills, in a mountain-nieces was a little, low-voiced woman, ous nook of the county Antrim. It was a scarcely less noiseless than her own shadow. romantic old place, and, of course, a legend Her daughters, Mary and Rachel, were each clung to it. The story ran that a mysterious a fair copy of their mother-not in person, treasure lay secreted somewhere within the but in the placidity of their tempers, and the walls, supposed to have been hidden, ages unwearied quietude of their demeanor. All since, on the occasion of a visit paid to the three would have been terrified at the thought mountains by Cromwell's soldiers. The Mis- of breaking in on the still routine of their life tress MacArthur of that day had given a ball by pulling down walls or dragging up floors on a certain night, and danced until a late in search of a thing the chances of whose exhour, in a yellow satin gown and a quantity istence hung on a legend. Letitia laughed at of jewels. Early next morning the unwel- it. She was an orphan whom old Randal had come visitors had arrived, and the family fled claimed in her infancy by virtue of some empty-handed, but no jewels had been seen mythical fifty-sixth cousinship, and had in the house, neither then, nor ever after- brought up as his youngest daughter. She wards. Therefore, the gossips held, some was a busy spirit, quick in her motions, clear secret hiding-place had been resorted to, and in her judgment, ready with her help, and, one day a prize must come to light. The leg- consequently, in sleepy Glenrig the household end of the treasure had passed down through fairy, the ordering genius of the place from many generations, but latterly it had almost garret to cellar. She loved the old story, and died out. One old woman in the neighbor- laughed at it; pulled it to pieces one day, and hcod, who claimed descent from a confidential put it together again the next, dressing it up servant of the above mentioned Mistress Mac-in the most brilliant colors. Arthur, had pretended to know the exact spot where the treasure lay, and all the circumstances of its burial. But this old woman belonging to a spiteful race, and would never tell her secret, if secret she posessed.

Aunt Penelope believed in it, and she had tried many plans to find out whether or not old Nannie knew more than she knew herself. There was no end to the sneers she encountered from Aunt MacAlister on the subject of her credulity; but, whether from charity, or with a view of conciliating old Nannie, she did induce Aunt Janette to take home, as playfellow for Letitia, a little girl, the old woman's grandchild. However, the girl had turned out badly and been sent away, after which old Nannie and she had left the country, so that their was no longer a chance for Aunt Penelope's craze of finding the treasure being satisfied.

And, indeed, this present family seemed about as little likely to discover it as any of their predecessors. Old Randal MacArthur, who had been visited with paralysis, was deaf, and had never quite recovered the use of his limbs, sat constantly in his chair, a patient, cheerful Christian, willing to linger on among his children and his clan of friends as long as

The only person who might have shown any energy in the matter was Archie, the eldest of the family, and only son of the house, who was at present trying to make his way at the English bar; and, spite of his Irish tongue and his Irish birth, was making it. But his energies and ambition had found a more practical channel than among broken walls bedded with imaginary treasure. Archie had enough to do, for the MacArthurs had been waxing poorer of late years, and he had gone forth to make for himself an independent name and fortune. Had the making of this fortune not been necessarily a tedious process, some thought that a certain pair of bright eyes which kept Glenrig in mischief and sunshine would have been even now shining beside him in London. However, people only surmised. The only one who could say anything on the subject was Letitia, and shewho could be discreet," close," Aunt Penelope said, when it pleased her-she, Letitia, kept her own counsel.

The two aunts were frequent visitors, not dwellers, at Glenrig, having each her respective domicile on a different outskirt of the two miles' distant village of Cushlake. Aunt MacAlister was a MacArthur, who had made

a not very brilliant marriage, and who, hav- | them as piquante an accessory to her own ing been left a widow, had returned, as it picturesqueness as any piece of bijouterie that were, to the parent stem, and always promi- ever fine lady hung on her finger or slung to nently asserting herself as Randal MacAr- her girdle. Letitia was not a beauty, but she thur's sister thought she ought to hold her could look pretty at times, and any woman head very high, and did so accordingly. Now who can do so should be content. It was a Aunt Penelope was only the wife of a dead round face with intelligent eyes, rather ambrother, and her family being, in Aunt Mac- ber than brown; a nose, short, and not unAlister's opinion, "very low," that good- graceful; a wide mouth with the merit of red natured sister-in-law thought she should, on lips and pure teeth; and a low, broad foreher husband's decease have modestly retired head. Her hair, which was simply sombre, into her native obscurity. But in addi- without either purple lights or ebon gloss, tion to the enormity of her declining to do was folded smoothly from her brow, and hung this, she had succeeded in "worming herself" in a heavy cloud about her throat. She did into the good graces of everybody at Glenrig, look pretty now, with a sudden jewel burning and this was a mortal offence to Aunt Mac-in each eye, and a throb of excitement relAlister, whom nobody liked. And so " Aunt dening her cheek. Pen" and "Aunt Mac' were always at She sat down to read Archie's letter to his dagger-points, something as may be a snarl- father and mother. She began heartilying terrier, ready to snap at every one's heels," My dear mother- She glanced down and a purring cat who will lie cosily by the fire as long as she is left at peace, but will show the tiger when provoked.

the page, and repeated mechanically, "My dear mother."

66

66

"Well, Letitia?"

And not waiting to be gainsayed, she sprang up and vanished.

It happened one evening, early in spring, My eyes are dim, somehow,” said Letitia. that a small event occurred which, for a time," I have got a headache. Just let me run up quickened mightily the blood in the drowsy for Mary or Rachel. They will read it betGlenrig veins, and which, as it afterwards ter." proved, was looked back upon as an epoch in the lives of all concerned. It was twilight, and Glenrig glared with all its red windows "Rachel," she said, putting her head in at into the outer grayness, where the valley at the door of a room up-stairs where a young its feet had assumed a mysterious depth, and lady was arranging her hair at the glass, the ranks of opposite mountains had retreated," there is a letter from Archie, and your in ghostly fashion, into the clouds. The great mother wants you to read it for her. My brown trees, their first awkward effort at head aches so badly, I cannot look at the greenness extinguished by the dusk, stood paper." like bearded giants resting on their clubs, for a short truce had been concluded with the gales. Inside Uncle Randal and Aunt Janette were dozing, or musing, which you please, in their respective arm-chairs at either side of the hearth, and the firelight flushed over them, filling the cosy old-fashioned room with a deep crimson light. A light step came in, and Letitia crossed the floor hastily, crying, "Aunt Janette, here are the letters-the letters at last. One, two, three; and there's one from Archie. I'll light the lamp!"

The lamp was lit in a twinkling, and as Letitia stood in the sudden light we could not have a better opportunity for describing her. It was a slight, small figure, clothed in a housewifely gray dress, and black silk apron. She looked like one accustomed to carry the keys, but to carry them jauntily, making

Strange to say, the light on Rachel's table glared at Letitia like a bloodthirsty enemy, and Rachel herself, soft, quiet Rachel, looked a gorgon. Blissfully unconscious of this fact, however, that young lady made a moderate exclamation of pleasure at hearing of her brother's letter, and telling Letitia to bathe her head, went down-stairs. And Rachel read the letter. It ran like this:

"MY DEAR MOTHER,-I fear my father and you will be displeased at first when I tell you that I have been married for some time, but when you know my Ethelind you must forgive me. Knowing this, I have induced her to go on before me, on a visit to Glenrig. I have assured her of the affectionate weldearest mother, to treat her tenderly for my come she w have. I need not ask you, sake. I hope Mary, Rachel, and Letitia will be sisters to her. I will join her at Glenrig

could not wear out her clothes like other folks, do as she would.

in a few weeks hence.-Your affectionate
son,
ARCHIBALD MACARTHUR."

Rachel let fall the paper, and blank amazement dropped upon the listeners. Then sobbing and murmuring arose in a chorus of meek rebellion against fate and Archie, till Letitia presently brought her bright face back to the room, and laughing merrily at the "comical news" struck the key-note for a new strain, and set the weepers all chanting the praises of the dear offender, with only a low running accompaniment of regrets and fears, and gentle deprecations.

66

A small crowd of broad-shouldered, brownfaced Cousin Edmunds, Cousin Randals, Cousin Pats, and Cousin Archies straggled about a table where a group of young women sat at work. Young women "Aunt MacAlister resolutely dubbed them, and young women they were obliged to submit to be. Bead-work had not at the time we speak of quite superseded shirt-making and garterknitting in retired nooks of the world like Glenrig; and of this laughing bevy, all busy Some days passed, and it was the evening with fingers and tongues, one was stitching of the bride's expected arrival. The shock a shirt-collar, another hemming damask napat Archie's strange conduct had in some kins, whilst a third was netting-horrible to measure subsided, and it had been resolved relate-a nightcap for her father. In this to give the visitor a true glens welcome. So group were Mary and Rachel, the daughters the old house had been burnished up to its of the house, with their low voices and few best looks, and early in the evening a goodly words. They were too quiet. Aunt Penecompany of friends, all cousins to the nine- lope once exclaimed in despair, "Sister Janteenth degree, had assembled in Mrs. Mac-ette, can you do nothing to waken up these Arthur's drawing-room. The curtains were girls of yours? They're just no better than drawn across the shattered windows, the fire white mice! blazed up the chimney, and the round table Aunt MacAlister betrayed her kill-joy proat the side of the room was absolutely groan-pensities by her sharp eyes, long pinched nose, ing under delectable preparations for a plen- and puckered-up mouth. She was dressed in tiful tea. The room was filled with good- a black satin gown, very stiff, wore black humored, good-looking people, laughing and talking in the broad northern accent, which has so ludicrously little of the mincing about it, and so much of rough honest kindliness. Old Randal MacArthur sat in his armchair as usual, a spare little man, with a thin, rosy face, and a quick and kindly eye. He wore a black velvet cap on his almost bald head, and sat in the familiar attitude which betrayed his deafness, holding his hand behind his ear while he leaned upon the arm of his chair towards the company, looking from one face to the other as if he would guess by their expression, if he could not hear, all that was going forward.

His wife was in her customary place near to his side, with her small grave cap and small grave gown, and her thin timid face, looking like a rather stately little old maid in half-mourning. She also sat with her feet on a stool, and she wore her dress short, and large bright buckles on her shoes. Also on her shoulders a black velvet shawl, rich with fringe and embroidery, said to have cost a fabulous sum of money once upon a time: how long ago we cannot say, but Aunt Penelope was wont to declare that Sister Janette

silk mittens on her hands, and a severe Quaker-looking cap on her head. She was not, perhaps, in the main, a bad-natured woman ; but she always acted as though she lived in mortal dread lest any one should suspect that she possessed one drop of the milk of human kindness in her nature. She was particularly hard upon the " young women now around her, calling their talk" clattering," and their ribbons and muslins "fudgey-magiggery." She had also a stab at the broadshouldered cousins, whom she did not scruple to describe as "louts," telling of the elegant manners of the gentlemen whom she was accustomed to meet in Dublin, in her youth.

Aunt Penelope was an ample, plain-featured person, with no particular physical advantage beyond the beaming effulgence that could flood from her nondescript eyes, and irradiate her broad, buff-colored face. And we do not think Aunt Mac need have called her vulgar because she preferred a brown and gold-color brocaded gown to one of a more severely neutral description of tint; or, having been a widow for twenty years, because she liked a comfortable cap with a bit of color about it. Be that as it may, Aunt Pen

was the favorite, the confidante, the coaxed and vivacity of character may burnish into and familiar of the whole clan. She knew fascinating beauty. If dressed in dull hues, all the secrets of the young men, and all the and shorn of her little airs and graces, she secrets of the young women, all but one. would have been too pale and pink about She was wont to declare to herself that she the eyes, while her hair would have disnever could make anything of Letitia. Her played that lack-lustre tint which can only eyes were now following that young damsel, be warmed to gold by delicate surroundings as, dressed in black silk and a coral necklace, of color. So at least thought Aunt Penelope, she flitted in and out and about the room, as, quite forgetting politeness, she sat watchlooking after the setting forth of cakes and ing her with unflagging persistence, seeming preserves, and seeming to make a hundred to have quite overlooked Letitia in her new excuses to keep moving about, as if she could interest in the bride.

not rest quiet a moment.

"Wont you come to the fire, Mrs. Archie?" "Mrs. Archie, wont you sit to the table for your tea?" "Mrs. Archie, dear, you're fairly done out!" "'Deed, Mrs. Archie, you're ready to drop this minute for want of something to eat. Oh! you needn't tell me. I know the hungry road you've travelled better than you do. You ought to be gay and keen for your tea!"

:

The rolling of a carriage was presently heard, and a crunching of wheels on the gravel. A sudden silence fell on the room. The cousins stopped laughing. Mary and Rachel glanced at one another, and looked more like white mice than ever; Uncle Randal sank back in his chair; Aunt Janette rose and stood nervously dragging the fringe of her shawl; Aunt Mac bounced up and Such speeches as these assailed the newlooked around as if to say, "Now we shall comer on all sides; but after she had spoken see what kind of person Mrs. Archie is?" once or twice, and shaken out her flounces as Whereupon Aunt Pen slipped into her chair, many times, the majority of the clan got taking old Randal's hand kindly, and still rather more shy, and did not press their kindwatching Letitia. That young person, at nesses on her so strongly she was very conthe moment employed in cutting thin bread descending, very gracious, very lavish with and butter, laid down her knife, and walking her smiles and her pretty gestures; but over to where Mrs. MacArthur stood irreso- somehow the plain glensfolk, with their lute on the hearth-rug, slipped the old lady's quaint downright talk and their homely arm through her own and drew her on, say- ways, felt ill at ease with her, feeling vaguely ing, "Come, Aunt Janette, you must meet her that she was rather too fine a lady for Archie at the door, you know!" "Forward minx!" to have sent home to Glenrig. Old Randal hissed Aunt Mac, sotto voce. "Bravo, Leti-presently lay back, extinguished, in his chair. tia!" murmured Aunt Pen, under her breath. Aunt Janette, by and by, also retreated into In another minute the stranger stood un- retirement. Of the cousins, the male portion der the hall lamp, and was embraced by Aunt attended on her wants rather clumsily, and Janette. It was not noticed that when Leti- the female portion scrutinized her dress and tia's turn came she retreated into the shad- the style of her hair. ows, and pushed Mary forward to be kissed. Nor was it seen that when the visitor was conducted to her room, Letitia remained below on the mat, twisting her small fingers together, as if she would break them in pieces.

Aunt Mac, who considered from the first that Mrs. Archie had "an air about her," made friends with her at once; perhaps because the bride evidently did not much affect Aunt Penelope. And so she sat all the evening by her side, and in return for Mrs. Archie's gracious information about “high circles" in London, Aunt Mac entertained her with an account of the "elegant people" whom she used to meet "in Dublin, in her youth." And still Aunt Penelope watched the bride, scrutinizing untiringly face, hands, figure, manner, and closing her eyes sometimes to listen more keenly to the tones of

In due time Mrs. Archie made her appearance in the drawing-room, taking away every one's breath by her brilliance. She was dressed in bright blue silk, all flounces and trimmings, and wore delicate lace and glittering ornaments. She was slight and tall, and carried her finery with a charming grace. She had that kind of fair-haired, fair-eyed good looks, which becoming dress the stranger's voice.