THE BROTHERS' QUARREL. journeyed by the side of her husband toward the wil-arrayed in his Indian garb, crossing a distant moun- It was upwards of twenty years after this event, 136 They, however, set out, and with their helpless babe which, as by a miracle, they had still succeeded in preserving unnoticed, began at midnight to retrace their steps; but before day, fatigue, anxiety and the want of nourishment so completely exhausted them both, that they found the following dilemma placed before them the child must be left in the wilderness, or they must remain and perish with it. The morning was already streaking the east with gray, and they knew that their flight must have been already discovered; they knew, too, the characters they had to deal with, and that to escape there was not a moment to be lost. Distracted with opposing resolutions, a sense of duty to themselves, finally prevailed over the parents fondness; the mother for the last time, pressed her innocent offspring to her breast, bedewed its unconsciously smiling cheeks with tears, and sat it down on the green bank of a lit-between the natural passions, affections and dispositle tinkling rill, to perish, where, as she cast a last an- tions of men, there is no difference, except such as is guishing look, after she left it, she saw it scrambling created by education and custom. after the flowers that grew around it. The father and mother escaped to the settlements, and Mr. Bird speedily collected a large party of his neighbors, and returned to the spot where the child had been left; but it was gone; and, in the lapse of years, blest with riches and a numerous progeny, the parents ceased to weep over their lost boy. Fifteen summers had smiled upon the harvests, when, in a treaty with a distant tribe of Indians, an article of which bound them to deliver up any captives that might be in their possession, a boy was put into the charge of the commissioners on the part of the whites, with the declaration that he was a white, found in infancy, upon the very spot where young Bird had been left. He was sent to his parents, who immediately recognized him by a remarkable scar on his right hand, which he had received in his father's house. The measure of the parents' joy was full-but the boy wandered through the rich possessions of his father, without a smile. His bow and blanket was his only joy. He despised alike, the dress, the habits and the luxuries that were proffered to him; and his mind constantly brooded over the forest scenes and sports in which he had passed his boyhood. Vain were all the attempts made to wean him from his native habits and as vain the efforts to obliterate the recollections of his adopted home from his mind. While persuasion and indulgence were alone resorted to, he modestly acquiesced; but when force was tried, and he was compelled to change his blanket for the garments of civilized life, and his favorite bow for a book, he grew sullenly discontented; and at last was missing in his father's house. He was seen that same evening The savages entered, and finding their efforts to entice her down were vain, laid down their rifles to as cend after her; but the first hand that was thrust through the trap-door was severed, by the intrepid heroine, and an alarm being taken at the moment, that the whites were coming, the Indians retreated, and disappeared in the woods instantly; while almost at the same moment Mr. Bird and his party came in sight. But scarcely had the deliverers of her life approached, before Mrs. Bird's eye caught sight of the severed hand, and lo! there appeared before her the scarred right hand of her eldest son. Such is the story of the Captive Boy; and from it I draw the inference, that it is habit that endears the savage to his wilds; that teaches him to love his own pursuits; and delight in blood and treachery; and that THE BROTHERS' QUARREL. Or the divided affections too often observable among THE BROTHERS' QUARREL. 137 together. They did not again meet for ten years: it and was severally served with the refreshments which was at their father's funeral. The old gentleman had he required. Night came, and each went to rest, died in presence of his eldest son only, reiterating with Morning returned, and still the storm was unabated. his latest breath, those injunctions so often before em- It was, therefore, necessary to spend another day in ployed in vain, that his two sons might be restored to the same extraordinary circumstances. Slowly, slowly brotherly friendship, an object, he said, which engros- waned the hours of the twilight day; and still the sed his thoughts so much in life, that he felt as though snow continued to fall in its broad and lazy flakes, he could not rest at peace in his grave unless it was seeming, to the two brothers, as each surveyed it listaccomplished. The two brothers met, but without lessly from his window, the very personification of mo taking the least notice of each other, when respectively notony. As the rooms were close to each other, and mounting their carriages, in order to follow the corpse only divided by a thin partition, through which there of their father to the family burying-ground in Aber- was a door of cummunication, each of the unhappy deen. Their hearts were still filled with fierce and in- gentlemen could overhear everything that his neighbor dignant feelings toward each other, though it is not did, almost to his very breathing. It at length became improbable that the elder had been somewhat touched, the amusement of each, unknown to his fellow, to almost imperceptibly to himself, by the dying entrea-watch the proceedings of the other-to note every footties of his father. fall, to register every sigh. George, in particular, became interested, in spite of imself, in the situation of his brother, which, in consideration of what he had heard from the lips of his dying father, bore to him an aspect more repulsive and painful than perhaps the actual sufferer. The procession, consisting of a hearse and the carriages of the two brothers, set out on its long and dreary journey, which was rendered additionally melancholy by the gloom of a December day. It was ori ginally designed that there should be no stoppage, except to exchange horses, till they reached their desti- At length, when after a weary day, the time of rest nation; but this arrangement was destined to be again drew nigh, and the house became more than strangely disconcerted. A fall of snow which had be- usually still, he heard a groan-a groan partly suppress→ gun only that morning in the low country, was found, ed, but still bearing distinctly the impress of unutterable when they reached the hilly region, to have been of anguish-proceed from his brother's room. He listentwo days' continuance; and it was with the greatest ed more intently, and in a few minutes he could make difficulty that they reached a lonely inn, about half out that the living tenant of the death-chamber was way toward the capital, beyond which it was declared prostrated beside the coffin, weeping-bitterly weeping by the postillions there was no possibility of proceed--but still making every effort to bury the expression ing that day. This humble place of entertainment of his grief in his own bosom. It may easily be imawas accustomed to lodge only such guests as carriers, gined that such sounds, coming upon a heart which and as it was partly occupied on the present occasion, had been insensibly undergoing a softening process by various wayfarers, the host, with all anxiety to ac during the whole day, must have had the best effect. commodate such distinguished guests as those who Still the rancor of ten years was not to be got over by had just arrived, found he could not, by any means, tears shed under such circumstances. He stole softly, offer them more than two rooms. It was his expecta- however, to the door, and watched with the most intion, that, while one of these was devoted, as decency tense anxiety every respiration and movement of his required, to the reception of the corpse, the other would afflicted brother. After waiting a few minutes, he disserve for the two mourners; and he accordingly pre-tinctly heard William breathe forth the words, "Oh posed to make up an additional bed in the room which he had marked as that which should receive his living guests. What was his astonishment, and what was the astonishment of all the inmates of the house, when he was informed by a servant that one of the gentlemen would sleep in one of the rooms, while the other had no objection to that in which he had placed the corpse! It was not, however, for him to make any resistance to such an arrangement, and he accordingly caused the rooms to be prepared as befitted the taste of his guests. mother!" and that in a tone which referred so pointedly to their unhappy quarrel, that he could no longer entertain a doubt as to the nature of his brother's present reflections. A thousand tender associations were awakened by that endearing word; he reverted to the early days when they had no contention but for her affections-no rivalry but for the kind bounty which she was always ready to bestow upon each alike. Human nature could hold no longer, and he gently tapped at the door which had hitherto kept them apart. "William," he said, "may I come in?" The voice of affection could not be mistaken; William opened the door in an instant, and, as if he had guessed intuitively the disposition of his brother, rushed into his arms. The next day saw the two brothers amicably proceeding in one vehicle to the family burying place, where, in the grave of their father, they inhumed every bitter feeling they had ever entertained against each other; and afterward, taught by the sufferings which they endured in their period of alienation, there was no pair of friends who took such pains to cherish each other's affections, or to avoid all means of converting them into gall. It must communicate a strange feeling to know that two brothers-men of cultivated understandings, and each re pected in his sphere for public and private worth-actually carried this dreadful arrangement into effect, to avoid what they must have contemplated as a more painful thing-the spending of a single night in each other's company. It was the younger who proposed, as a solution of the dilemma in which he found they were placed, to take up his quarters in the same chamber with the corpse; unpardonable as the elder was for his share of the dissension, it was but justice to him to state that he could not, after the dying request of his father, have encountered the sensations which might be expected to arise in so dreadful a situation. During the evening, as the storm prevented them from going out of doors, each kept his own room, THE greater the acknowledged merits of any one, the more severe will be the sentence passed upon any of his defects, real or imaginary. His success in his profession was rapid. It has been said of him, that "he is in the greatest request in jury cases, where he is in his element. A Dublin jury forms the twelve string harp upon which, above all things, he delights to play. His powers as a nisi prius advocate are numerous, and always at command. His skill in conducting defences for the Crown court is remarkable. Here his versatility seems to approach nearer to inconsistency than in any other department of his practice. Habitually bold and sanguine everywhere else, he is in these cases a model of prudence and caution. Rapid in his usual cross-examinations, here he never puts a hasty, especially a hazardous, question." He received a silk gown in the latter part of 1831. At the same time that Mr. O'Connell became one of the well known advocates of the Irish bar, he was not less eminent in the political assemblies of his countrymen, in which he displayed a power, earnestness and firmness that soon rendered him the leader of the Irish Catholics. Indeed, his exertions seem to have been of the most laborious nature. Rising early for calm and profound study, disposing of a mass of business before the Courts, which would seem sufficient to exhaust the strength of a common constitution, he would often pass the day in some popular meeting, and the evening at a public dinner, in both of which he was required to address the audience; and the next morning would find him early engaged in new labors. For about thirty years he has been the zealous and active partisan of his oppressed countrymen, and has acted a leading part in all the efforts which they have made for an admission to the rights of British subjects. The Catholic Board, and the Catholic Asso will come, And now, when comes a calm, mild day, as still such days ciation, which were formed in 1823, and suppressed in 1829, were much indebted to his services for their Influence. In consequence of his having applied the reproachful epithet of "beggarly corporation" to the Dublin corporation, which was opposed to the Catholic claims, he became involved in a duel, in which his antagonist fell. A dispute which soon after arose between him and Mr. Peel, when the latter was Secretary for Ireland, also led to an appointment, which, having become public, the parties were prevented from meeting by the authorities; they agreed, however, to meet on the continent - but Mr. O'Connell was arrested in London, and held to bail before the king's bench. The measures which he considered necessary for the relief of his country, were a repeal of the union, and of the Catholic disabilities. Previous to the passage of the relief bill, he had declared that he considered it possible for him to sit in Parliament. He was accordingly elected member for Clare, but did not attempt to take his seat until after the passage of the bill, when he was required to take the usual oaths of allegiance, supremacy and abjuration. He claimed the benefit of the bill, but it was decided that he was not entitled to the advantages of its provisions, and he was not permitted to sit. He was afterward, however, re-elected, and took his seat accordingly. In 1830, he moved on several occasions for leave to bring in bills for extending the privileges of Catholics, and also a bill for reforming the abuses of Parliamentary representation, declaring himself in favor of universal suffrage, voting by ballot, and triennial Parliament; but his plans met with little support. WE consider the following one of the finest effusions of the writer, who is ranked by many, and we might say, almost by general consent, as the first poet in the country. Besides being exceedingly beautiful, its application to the season adds to its interest at the present time. AUTUMN. BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, sere Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the summer leaves lie dead; They rustle to the eddying wind, and to the rabbit's tread! Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprung and stood, In brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood? Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again! But on the hill the golden-rod and the aster in the wood, stood, Till fell the frost from the clear cold heaven, as falls the plague on men, And the brightness of their smile was gone from upland, glade and glen! To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home, are still, And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill, he bore, And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more ! And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died, And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief! ours, So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers! DANIEL O'CONNELL. SINCE the receipt of the intelligence of the arrest of O'CONNELL by the British government, we presume we cannot offer a more acceptable article in the present state of England, Ireland, Repeal and public opinion, than the following short sketch of the early private and personal history of the conspicuous agi tator. He is descended from an ancient Catholic family of the county of Kerry, and was in his youth intended for the priesthood. He was early sent for his education to the Jesuits' College, at St. Omer, and, on finishing his studies there, immediately avowed his preference for the law. He accordingly studied in the Middle For the last ten years he has occupied an important Temple, and, in 1798, was admitted to practice at the position in the eye of the public of the United KingIrish bar, which had just been opened to Catholics. Į dom, and his movements are familiar to all. THE MAN WITH AN APPETITE. THE MAN WITH AN APPETITE. never could," grunted tallow-beech in reply. Now it so happened that directly opposite to him sat a fine bouncing dame-fat, fair, and fifty, tightly done up in blue braided broadcloth, overhung with a gilt Belcher chain, almost big enough for a chain cable, and she no sooner heard his complaint of not being able to stand riding backward than she offered to change places with him-whether from sympathy with his fat, or respect I NEVER, for the life o' me, could understand why a to her own blue broadcloth, did not appear. But how man of ten stone weight should pay as much for coach this exchange of places was to be brought about, was hire as one of twenty. There's neither reason nor vir- the thing: to the lookers on it seemed to be almost as tue in it; and the stage coach proprietors must be a set easy as turning a couple of bullocks in a watch-box; of unjust jolterheads not to alter it. The rogues weigh but as the necessity for it was growing more and more your dead stock-your luggage, and, if it be what they urgent every moment, the attempt was made. In the call "over weight," they make no scruple of charging first instance they each essayed to rise like ordinary you so much a pound for every pound above a certain people, but that would not do; before the male was half number of pounds, but they take no account at all of up, down he went again-squash!--and they repeated overweight in living luggage, and will charge just as the attempt a second time with no better success. much for carrying a little whipper snapper of a passen- "I'll tell you what, ma'am," grunted tallow-beech, ger, whose entire corpus, in full dress, might be tucked "you'd better catch hold of my hands." The lady into a coach pocket, as they will for a great, over-fed complied; and having hooked their fat fingers, togethfellow, whose empty waistcoat would button round a er, in the way the boys call butchers' hold, they suchay stack! If a man will stuff himself till he's as big ceeded in bousing each other up, fairly out of their resas a roasted Manningtree ox with a pudding in his bel-pective seats, but in the attempt to turn, they missed ly, let him do so-there is no statute to the contrary stays, as it were, and swung round, horizontally, across thereof, that I know of; but I see no reason why he the laps of the rest of us. should obtrude his fat upon folk of reasonable compass -or expect to have his overweight of blubber carried about the country for nothing. Twelve stone is about the average weight of a man; and if the coach owners were not blockheads and boobies-blind to their own interests, and to common equity, they would establish a scale of fares, hang weighing chairs in their coach offices, and demand so much additional fare upon every | stone weight above twelve; reducing the fares to those of less weight in proportion. If they would do that, a man, wedged into a six inside coach between two of these enormous bowel-cases, might take some little comfort to himself in knowing that what he suffers by suffocation, he saves in pocket. Here was a pretty predicament!-In a moment we were all mixed up together like so many maggots in a grease pot, all trying to get the upper hand of each other: the spinsters were shrieking, the bouncing dame squalling, the fat fellow grunting; and all of us sprunting with might and main, to keep our heads above brawn. Luckily, the two fat ones had “a kind of alacrity in sinking "—their ability to sprunt being diminished in exact ratio to their superabundant blubber, so that we soon got them pretty well under; but, nevertheless, there is no knowing what the upshot might have been, had not a lean and long neck'd linen dealer in the corner, poked his head out at the window, and implored the coachman to stop-"Coachman,” cried he, "coachman! for Heaven's sake stop the coach!" The coach did stop, and that right speedily-for the cry was urgent, and both doors being set wide open, wethe four lean ones, as soon as we could disentangle ourselves, got out upon the road, shoe-top deep in mud, and the rain raining as though it thought the sooner we were cooled the better; whilst the two fat ones, assisted by the coachman and others, were getting themselves set upright on their own propria persona seats: and this matter achieved, we all got in again. Now you would think, perhaps, that after such a squabash, the fat man's appetite would be sadly damaged-and I thought so too; but I was mistaken; for in less than an hour after, I sat down to dinner with him, at one of the inns in Dover, and I'll tell you the manner of his feeding. No doubt the most singular movement he has ever made in his political life, has been his late indiscreet speech about the Southern Planters of the United States. It has cost an entire destruction of the Repeal Associations in the southern portion of this country. 139 It was our fate to have one of these two legged prize cattle "a certain Franklin in the wilds of Kent," as a traveling sixth in the Dover coach. We took him up-or rather he was heaved up, by the coachman and half-a-dozen helpers, at a road-side public house, somewhere between Sandwich and Deal; and when he was up, aud had poked forward, half way across the inside of the coach, his hips stuck in the door way, so that he was obliged to turn aside, before he could bring in his rear. At length he was all in; and down he went squash! into the only vacant seat, between two venerable spinster-like ladies, his bowed elbows spreading over them in front like a couple of Brobdignagian sausages. "Mercy on us!" cried one of the spinster-like venerables-"I declare you have torn my gown completely out of the gathers!" "And mine too!" said the other. "Really, sir, we must get you to sit up a little," said both. "Aye-I thought I felt something give way," grunted the mountain of a mummy; and then, instead of sitting up, as they had requested, he leaned slowly from side to side, so as almost to smother each lady in her turn, whilst the other was dragging her torn gown from beneath his abominable brawn. How-ounce lump of bread. You'll take salmon, sir? "I'll ever, all that being arranged and room having been take salmon; and some bread waiter." The plate of made for his legs, as he called them, on we went, but bread was handed to him, and having paw'd on three we had not gone more than a mile, when he grunted, or four ounce lumps, he ingulphed two of 'em with the -"Can't stand this "Stand what sir?-you seem salmon. Shall I send a fried sole, sir?"Yes, I'll take to be sitting"" said some body. "Can't ride backerd fried soles, and some fresh ale, waiter." A quart jug of It was a sort of four shilling ordinary-plenty of food there was; and some twenty or thirty feeders-each with a four ounce lump of bread by the side of his plate. "You'll take some soup, sir?" said somebody to the fat Franklin. "Yes, I'll take soup," said he; and did three plates full, to which he added the aforesaid four 140 ale was set beside him; and having ingulph'd a great goblet of it, he sent down a half pound sole, and the fourth lump of bread after the salmon. Here's a fine brill, sir; will you allow me to send you some?" "Yes-brill, and some bread, waiter." The plate was again handed to him, and having paw'd off four lumps, down went one of them with the brill, and another goblet of ale cleared his gullet for the second course. Second course: Roast beef, roast pig, calf's head, and boiled leg of mutton. "Beef sir?" "Yes I'll take some beef; champ, champ, chamble, champ, and gulp-gulp-gulp ;" and there was an end of the beef, and a third goblet of ale. "Some calf's head, sir." "Yes, I'l take calf's head: slerrup, slerrup, chamble, champ, slerrup; gulp, gulp, gulp." "A little more calf's head, sir?" "Yes, I'll take a little more calf's head; slerrup, slerrup-bread, waiter; slerrup, chamble cham; gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp ;" and this ended the second course. A SQUALL IN THE SOUTHERN OCEAN. to the Lord Minimus (commonly called little Jeffery,) her majesty's servant &c. written by Microphilus with a little print of Jeffery prefixed. Before this period Jeffery was employed on a negotiation of great impor tance; he was sent to France to fetch a midwife for the queen; and on his return with this gentlewoman and her majesty's dancing master, and many rich presents to the queen, from her mother, Mary de Medicis, he was taken by the Dunkirkers. Jeffery, thus made of consequence, grew to think himself really so. He had borne with little temper the teazing of the cour tiers and domestics, and had many squabbles with the kings gigantic porter. At last, being provoked by Mr. Crofts, a young gentleman of family, a challenge ensued; and Mr. Crofts coming to the rendezvous armed only with a squirt, the little creature was so enraged that a real duel ensued, and the appointment being on a level, Jeffery, with the first fire shot his antagonist dead. Third course: "Shall I send you the wing of this goose, sir ?" "Yes, I'll take the wing of a goose ;" and he did. "Allow me to send you a slice or two of the breast, sir?" "Yes; I'll take some of the breast;" and he did. "some boiled fowl and oysters, sir?" "Yes; I'll take some boiled fowl and oysters; slerrup, slerrup, champ, cham-stop waiter! where are you going with that duck! I shall take some duck;" and hav-suspicion of his being privy to the popish plot, he was "This happened in France, whither he had attended his mistress in the troubles. He was again taken prisoner by a Turkish rover, and sold into Barbary. He probably did not remain long in slavery, for at the beginning of the civil war, he was made a captain of the royal army, and in 1646 attended the queen to France, where he remained till the Restoration. At last, upon taken up in 1682, and confined in the Gate house, Westminster, where he ended his life in the sixty-third year of his age. ing finished his boiled fowl and oysters, he helped himself to the breast of the duck. By this time his eyes stood out like a lobster's; the prespiration stood in large drops upon his bald front. But still he went on, champ champ, champ; and fearing the pastry would cleared away before he had finished his duck, he contrived to eat the solid slices from the breast with one side of his mouth, whilst he gnaw'd the meat from the leg with the other-the drumstick poking out from the corner of his mouth, till it dropped completely picked upon his plate. Then, gulping down the remainder of his ale, he tossed a glass of brandy after it; and asked for some damson turt; swallowed it in a twinkling; "a little custard pudding?" "Yes:" cheese? "Yes;" and finally a bottle of sherry! Is it not monstrous, that a fellow like this-who will cram himself with more food than would serve a dozen modest men, should obtrude his abominable paunch upon decent people, and get his overweight carried about from town to town for nothing. JEFFERY HUDSON IN THE PIE. JEFFERY HUDSON, the famous English dwarf, who contributed to the amusements of the court of Charles II, was born at Oakham in Rutlandshire, in the year 1619. When about the age of seven or eight, being then but eighteen inches high, he was retained in the service of the Duke of Buckingham, who resided at Burleigh on the Hill. Soon after the marriage of Charles I. the king and queen entertained at Burleigh, little Jeffery was served up in a cold pie, and presented by the duchess to the queen, who kept him as her dwarf. From seven years of age to thirty, he never grew any larger; but after thirty he shot up to three feet nine inches, and there fixed. Jeffery took a considerable part in the entertainments of the court, Sir William Davenport wrote a poem called "Jeffriedos," on a battle between him and a turkey cock; and in 1638 was published a very small book called "the New Years gift," presented at court from the Lady Perceval A SQUALL IN THE SOUTHERN OCEAN. On the 16th of August, after having doubled the Cape, we encountered a very severe squall, which during the time it lasted, almost amounted to a hurricane, and which I think worthy of being recorded, on account of the pecular circumstances which attended it. The day on which the gale occurred happened to be on Sunday. We were dead becalmed. The Albatros, instead of wheeling around as, as usual, floated on the glassy surface of the ocean. The sails hung lazily against the masts; and our gallant ship, after having fought her way bravely round" the Cape of Storms,' appeared to be enjoying the seventh day of rest, in common with all nature. Divine service was performed, as usual, under an awning of flags, and the whole crew, with the exception of the officer of the watch and the man at the wheel, attended in their best Sunday clothes, almost every man having a prayer book; and all appeared much impressed by the solemnity of the service. I do not know a more impressive ceremony, or one better calculated to inspire one with serious thoughts, than that of Divine Service performed at sea. The solemn silence which reigns throughout the ship, unbroken, save by the gentle lapping of the water against her massive sides-the weather beaten Captain,. standing with reverent air at the capstan head, which, covered by the meteor flag of Old England, serves his ready desk-the little group of sincere worshippers, who, perhaps, only twelve hours before, were struggling against the fury of the elements, with the characteris tic energy, and indomitable courage of British seamen, now assembled to offer up their humble petitions, and return thanks to their Creator in the midst of the trackless ocean. The beautiful language of the prayers ap |
