The Aberystwith Observer

"A STORY AS IS A STORY!" It is just twenty years ago yesterday, (said our nar- rator,) that a party of our fellers went over to Cakokia Creek on a skating match. The day was colder than ten icebergs all stuck together; but the ice was as smooth as glass, and we made up our minds to have a heap of fun. Bill Berry was the leader of the crowd. He was a tall six-footer, full of pluck, and the best skater in all creation. Give Bill Berry a good pair of skates, and smooth sailing, and he'd make the trip to Baffin's Bay and back in twenty-four hours, only stop- ping long enough *at Halifax to take a drink. Well! we got to the creek and fastened our skates on; and, after taking a good horn from Joe Turner's flask, started off in good style, Bill Berry in the lead. As I was tellin' ye, it was a dogonned cold day, and so we had to skate fast to keep the blood up. There was little breathe-holes in the ice, and every now and then we could come near goin' into 'em. My skates got loose, and I stopped to fasten them. Just as I had finished buckling the straps I heard a noise. I looked up and saw something shooting along on the ice like lightning. It was Bill Berry's head. He had been goin' it like greased electricity, and before he knew it he was into one of them cussed holes. The force was so great as to cut his head off against the sharp corners of the ice. It is all day with Bill Berry," said I. And all night too," said Joe Turner. Just as he got these words out of his mouth, I looked at Bill's head, which had been goin it on the ice, and all at oncet it dropped into another hole. We run to it, and I heard Bill Berry say, "Quick, boys, quick! pull me out!" I looked into the hole, and there, as true as I'm a sinner, was Bill Berry's body, which had shooted along under the ice and met the head at a hole in the ice. It was so thunderin' cold that the head had frozen fast to the body, and we pulled Billy out as good as new. He felt a little numb at first; but, after skating awhile, he was as the rest of us, and laughed over the joke. We went home about dark, all satisfied with the day's sport. About nine o'clock in the evening, somebody knocked at my door, and said I was wanted over to Bill Berry's. I put on my coat and went over. There lay Bill's body in one place and his head in another. His wife said that after he came home from skating he sat down to the fire to warm himself, and while at- tempting to blow his nose he threw his head into the fireplace. The coroner was called that night, and the verdict of the jury was that Bill Berry came to his death by skating too fast.St. Louis Herald.

AN AMERICAN RIVAL TO MR. SPURGEON. A contemporary gives the following sketch of a sermon of the Rev. H. D. Northrop, a young American Congregational minister, who has been preaching at the Pavilion Theatre, London. He is said to be twenty-three years of age, is a small, slim figure, with a fine cast of features, and his style of preaching reminds one strongly of Mr. Spurgeon, while his earnest manner is well calculated to arrest the attention of the hearer. The text preached from in this instance was a passage in the First Epistle to Timothy, vi. 12—" Fight the good fight of faith :"— Mr. Northrop commenced his discourse with an apposite allusion to the martial preparations going on in this country, and to the rumours of war prevailing on the Continent. Many, no doubt, he said, would fight for English hearts and homes, but he had to invite them to a nobler and better service. There was another con- flict going on in which we were all called upon to engage, -the contest between right and wrong, vice and virtue, good and evil. Jesus Christ, the great Captain of our j salvation, was the leader of the host, and he, as one ot His recruiting officers, would like to get a great number of recruits out of the multitude he saw before hun. He then went on to divide his subject into three heads- first, the battles that were to be fought; secondly, the great Captain; and thirdly, the soldiers themselves. With regard to the first point, he said the battles were of two kinds-one was general, and then there were several that were personal. Jesus was subduing the earth to Himself, and this was the general battle going on. The principalities and powers of darkness were arrayed on one side, and Jesus and the valiant champions of the truth on the other; and He and His army were destined to be victorious. When that day would arrive, no one could tell, nor did it particularly concern us. The great question with us was, were we prepared to meet Christ when He should come in His glory to judge the nations of the earth ? Then there were several battles that might be called personal. He. who would live a Christian life must fight against self; we all had this enemy within us, and by God's grace it might be overcome and subdued. Self he de- scribed as a great robber, who took from us our greatest happiness in this life, and robbed us else of our future enjoyment in the world to come; and our only hope of deliverance from it was by trusting in Christ for the salvation of our souls. Again, we must fight against the world, by which he meant the sin that surrounded and tempted us. He here drew a graphic picture of the alluring form in which Vice arrayed herself, and warned his hearers against her syren voice. Then again, we had to fight against Satan. Coming next to the second head of his discourse, he proceeded to describe the great Captain of the army. Jesus always took excellent care of his soldiers, and never forsook them even in the hour of death. He was always accessible, too, to the very meanest and least in the army. When the poor diseased woman elbowed her way through the crowd to touch the hem of His garment, Jesus turned and looked at her, not with a look of rebuke such as He gave to Peter, but, gazing upon her tenderly, said, 'Go thy way, thy faith hath made thee whole." Moreover, we were bidden to come to Him just as we are, and if we accepted His invitation, we could not be rejected. Then, again, He was sure to be victorious. He was greater than any earthly general, and the world would yet be subjected to Him. The preacher then glanced at the revival in America, in Ireland, and in Scotland, as a testimony to the pro- gress that Christ was making in the world. Then, he added, first-rate wages did the great Captain pay His soldiers; nothing less than His own righteousness, and a crown of immortal blessedness, and joy. In the third place, he spoke of the soldiers, and enumerated the weapons they would have to take-the loins girt about with truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit. Armed with these weapons, the Christian soldier must fight with a zeal and earnestness commen- surate with the great interests that are at stake. One great interest was the salvation of the soul, which in the meanest of mankind was of more value, he said, than a universe of gold. In conclusion, he appealed to them, one and all, to enlist under the banner of Christ. "Ali ) man," he exclaimed, "you have served* the world long enough. Come out from it now on Emmanuel's side. There is no pleasure or profit in it whatever. Behold the Cross uplifted here to-night, and Jesus hanging thereon. His language to you is, Come come and enlist under me, and I will lead you on to victory.' If you will renounce your sins, forsake self, and believe in Christ, you, whoever you may be, however great may be your sinfulness, may become a Christian and have your name written in the Lamb's Book of Life, so that it shall never be effaced. Oh, that this entire congrega- tion might be a congregation whose God is the Lord, that dying you might have the triumph over death and fall asleep in Jesus 1 Fight, man, fight to win heaven. "Ne'er think the victory won, Nor lay thy armour down Thy arduous work will not be done Till thou obtain thy crown." May God draw you to the blessed Jesus by His Holy Spirit for His name's sake. Amen.

JpsaUraMs liptt. How TO USE YOUR STICK.- In the Life of An- drew Jackson," the celebrated American general, is a good illustration of Jackson's rough way of life. He related this story to a friend at Washington, who ex- pected, according to American custom, to be assailed in the public streets for his ardent support of the w Administration :"—" Now, Mr. B," said Mr. Jackson, if any one attacks you, I know how you'll fight with that big stick of yours. You'll aim right for his head. Well, sir, ten chances to one he'll ward it off; and if you do hit him you won't bring him down. No, sir, you hold the stick so, and punch him in the stomach, and you'll drop him. When I was a young man prac- tising law in Tenessee, a big bullying fellow wanted to pick a quarrel with me, and so trod on my toes. He was a man of immense size, one of the very biggest men I ever saw. As quick as a flash I snatched a rail from the top of the fence, and gave him the point of it full in his stomach. Sir, it doubled him up he fell at my feet, and I stamped on him." THE ISOLATION OF SICKNESS.—X see spring- budding, flowing, leaf-starting, and verdure-brightening in wondrous beauty out-of-doors—but without me I am left behind while this gay procession is gliding past. We are no less islanded on our sick-bed because we are tenderly watched and kindly administered to. It is across a gulf that they reach to us-they with whom we no longer sit down to eat, or go forth to walk, or converse carelessly and gaily. The mail comes in as usual with its news, but from a world with which my pulses are not in tune. The sun rises over familiar rivers and mountains that I cannot now visit, on roads that I cannot now travel, on well-remembered labour and pleasure that I cannot now share. Children come in to see me, but not with their usual frolicsomeness and freedom. Their voices are subdued with a vague awe of the paler face and the invalid surroundings. Of what I know as "the world," I am no longer a part- no longer necessary to its present day's doings and completeness. And, strangely enough, there is no pain in this conscious dismemberment from the life around. As to the mere instinct, it is like undressing for sleep when weary-laying off the clothes that to wear with comfort we must be strong and wakeful. WOMEN AND ANGELS.—Now the British femi- nine theory is, that women are angels. This, however, must be a loose way of talking; for, as I am aware, it is difficult to bring an angel into court and institute a comparison. Certainly, as far as we know anything about the matter, women have much the advantage. Speaking as an individual, I have no opinion of that combination of heads and wings which painters and sculptors have imagined as typical of the angelic nature. It is an unsatisfactory sort of mixture at the best; and at the worst it would be an awful idea to have the partner of your toils,and the sharer of your joys, buzzing about you in true Caudle mood, and humming her sweet reproaches into your overwrought ear. I should always be afraid by day lest Mrs. Jones should settle on my nose, and at night she might perhaps singe her dove-like pinions in the candle. One might put her in a cage, in- deed but what a sad thought if she was to hurt her' sweet nose against the bars; besides, what would Sir Cresswell say ?-Once a Week. AN HONEST MAN, WITH A QUALIFICATION.— Judge W many years an occupant of the Federal Bench of Michigan, fell into conversation, in a barber's shop, with a plain substantial-looking, and rather aged stranger, from the neighbourhood of Tecumseh. The judge having been formerly well acquainted with that vicinity, took occasion to ask after certain of the citi- zens. "You know Mr. B-, do you?" asked the Judge, Very well," was the reply. "Is he quite well?" asked the Judge. "He is quite well," was the answer. Judge W- then remarked, Mr. B is a very fine man." "Y-e-s," says the old farmer, rather cautiously, a fine man for a lawyer—you know we don't expect a great deal of them." LORD MACAULAY'S MEMORY.—The late Lord Macaulay's memory was perfectly astounding. At a friend's house not very many months ago he was quoting in rapid succession long passages from the ballads of the northern counties of England. On being asked by one of the party where he had obtained such stores of poetic lore, he replied that he had spent a great part of one of his long vacations while at Cam- bridge in the north of England, and had taken that opportunity of traversing Cumberland and Northum- inE, berland on foot, entering the cottages of the poor people, and sitting down in their chimney corners to chat, and that he made it a point not to leave a cottage without extracting from each good woman some story or legend, in prose or poetry, which he carefully re- corded day by day. He added, that he did not know where this store of folk-lore now was, but added that it would probably turn up among his papers some day or other. We trust that his executors will now remember the hint, and do their best to exhume the buried trea- sure.-Once a Week. AN EX-CHANCELLOR'S JUDGMENT ON DIRECT AND INDIRECT TAXATION. Here .too" (i. e., around Westminster Abbey) "have the innocent been im- peached, and hunted to death, and a virtuous and able monarch martyred, because, among other benefits pro- jected for his people, he was of opinion that it was more for their advantage that the economic service of the State should be supplied by direct taxation, levied by an individual known to all, than by direct taxation raised by an irresponsible and fluctuating assembly. But, thanks to Parliamentary patriotism, the people were saved from ship money, which money the wealthy paid, and only got in its stead the customs and excise, which the poor mainly support. Rightly was' King Charles surnamed the martyr; for lie was the holocaust of direct taxation. Never yet did man lay down his heroic life for so great a cause- -the cause of the Church and the cause of the poor." [There is here a rather I strange defence of the supposed right of the Crown to levy taxes without the consent of Parliament; and also a little anachronism respecting Excise, which had only been heard of to be denounced, until the first Par- liament of the martyr's son, when the landowning legis- lators freed themselves from all feudal obligations, and granted to the Crown, in perpetuity, duties of Excise on beer, strong drinks, &c., in recompense and satis- faction" for their own debts; but the main point is the unqualified adhesion of the writer to the principle of direct taxation. And who is he ? None other than the Right Hon. Benjamin Disraeli, late Chancellor of the Exchequer, and now one of the champions of indirect taxation,—that is to say, according to his own defini- tion, an enemy to "the cause of the Church and the cause of the poor." The passage cited occurs in the 6th chapter of the 4th book of Sybil" (1845); and there- flections are those of the author, not of any of the characters in the novel.]—Financial Reformer. EATING HUMBLE PIE.- vVhen our forests were stocked with deer, and venison pasty was commonly seen on the tables of the wealthy, the inferior and refuse portions of the deer (termed the umbles") were generally appropriated by the poor, who made them into a pie; hence "umble pie" became suggestive of poverty, and was afterwards applied to degradation of other kinds. METTERNICH'S MERIDIAN.—Next followed Met- ternich's seven years of glory—from 1815 to 1822. The treaties of 1815 were his. He gave away countries and peoples at his pleasure, and found willing instruments in all the princes and ministers of Europe. He let romantic sovereigns propound a Holy Alliance, and preach a high-flown political gospel. He put on an air of deference towards everybody who had a hobby or a scruple. He made no boasts in his own name; but he decreed and arranged the policy of Europe-uniting Belgium and Holland, which flew asunder after a time, from mutual repugnance. He cut and carved, and fixed unions and divisions and boundaries-as he believed for all future time. Among other incidents, those Italian provinces were assigned to Austria, which she is now losing; and Genoa was given to Piedmont. For seven years the complacent statesman boasted of the 'peace of Europe, and the grandeur of Austria. In 1822 his work already began to totter to its fall. The Italian States broke out into revolution; and, on the other hand, the Czar was undermining Austria. The mouth of the Danube was already gone.- Once a Week. TRAINING or WoMEN.—Nothing can possibly be more highly interesting, more deeply important to the best interests of society, than the education and general training of women. Upon that depends whether the workman shall have a good housewife for his wife, whether his children shall have a good mother to attend them, whether his house shall be made comfortable and happy to himself, and therefore a formidable rival (and the best possible rival) raised to another place, of which other place I will not go further at present than to say it neither has the comforts of home, nor the innocence °^-home, nor the instruction and sound relaxation and refreshment of home; but its enjoyment is obtained by the sacrifice of the domestic duties, by robbing the wife and children of the pence which are spent there to support the indulgence obtained and, in return for these indulgences, the health of mind and body alike are undermined, and ultimately are totally subverted.— Lord Brougham. DISCIPLINING THE MIND.-The secret of human happiness consists in being able to divert the mind from disagreeable circumstances. It is a great blessing when a man's nature or training is such that he is able to turn away entirely from his work when he desists from actual working, and to shut his eyes to the con- templation of any painful thing when its contempla- tion ceases to be necessary or useful. There is much in this of native idiosyncracy, but a good deal may be done by discipline. You may to a certain extent ac- quire the power to throw off from the mind the burden that is weighing upon it, at all times except the moment during which the burden has actually to be borne. I envy the man who stops his work and in- stantly forgets it till it is time to begin again. I envy the man who can lay down his pen while writing on some subject that demands all his mental stretch, and go out for a walk, and yet not through all his walk be wrestling with his subject still. Oh! if we could lay down the mind's load as we can lay down the body's If the mind could sit down and rest for a breathing space, as the body can in climbing a hill! If, as we de- cidedly stop walking when we cease to walk, we could cease thinking when we intend to cease to think It was doubtless a great secret of the work which Napo- leon did with so little apparent wear that he could fall asleep whenever he chose.-The Worries of Life.

.-io. COMMERCIAL GRIEF. When business orders are received, From parties painfully bereaved, Five minutes' time is all we ask, To execute the mournful task.—MOSES & SON. When man has more than his usual number of letters of a morning, and leisure to play with them, it is observable what flirtations he indulges himself in, ere he finally makes them unbosom themselves. Now he toys with them, scrutinises one after another, and guesses whom they can be from. Sometimes a hand- writing that he dreamily remembers calls to him, as it were, from the envelope. Such a letter, deeply bordered with black, at once attracted my attention among the heap that lay upon my table. Whom could it be from ? It was evidently a messenger of affliction; but how could that affect an old bachelor with neither chick nor child? I tore the white weeping willow upon a black background, that formed the device upon z' the seal, and read the contents. Nothing more than an intimation from a relative (perhaps once more in- timate than now), of the sudden death of her brother- in-law, and a request that, under the circumstances of the sudden bereavement of the widow, I would un- dertake certain sad commissions relative to the mourning and monument which she entrusted to my care. It is noteworthy that even in the deepest affliction, especially among women, in the matter of dress how the very abandonment of grief is shot, as it were, with the more cheerful love of the becoming; and in this instance I found no departure from the general rule, as I was particularly enjoined, in the most decent terms that the writer could command under the cir- cumstances, to do my sad spiriting at a certain maison de deuil mentioned. Of course the term was not ab- solutely new to me, but I had never realised its exact meaning, cr imagined with what exquisite delicacy and refinement those establishments had gone in part- nership, as it were, with the emotions, and with what sympathy, beautifully adjusted to the occasion, trade had met the afflictions of hnmanity. After breakfast, I set out upon my sad errand, and had no difficulty in finding the maison de deuil in ques- tion. It met me in the sad habiliments of mourning. No vulgar colours glared from the shop-windows, no gilt annoyed with its festive glare. The name of the firm scarcely presumed to make itself seen in letters of the saddest grey, on a black ground. On my pushing the plate-glass door, it gave way with a hushed and muffled sound, and I was met by a gentleman of sad expression, who, in the most sympathetic voice, inquired the nature of my want; and, on my reply, directed me to the Insoluble Grief Department. The inside of the establishment I found to answer exactly to the appear- ance without. The long passage I traversed was panelled in white with black borderings, like so many mourning cards placed on end; and I was becoming impressed with the deep solemnity of the place when I caught sight of a neat little figure rolling up some ribbon, and on inquiring if I had arrived at the Inconsolable Grief Department, she replied in a gentle voice, slightly shaded with gaiety, that that was the half-mourning counter, and that I must proceed until I had passed the repository for widows' silk. Following her directions, I at last reached mv destination, a large room draped with black, .with a hushed atmosphere about it, as though a body was invisibly lying there in state. An attendant in sable habiliments picked out with the inevitable white tie, and with an undertakerish eye and manner, awaited my commands. I accordingly produced my list. Scanning it critically, he said: Permit me to inquire, sir, if it is a deceased partner?" I nodded assent. We take the liberty of asking this distressing question," he replied, "as we are extremely anxious to keep the character of this establishment by matching at once the exact shade of affliction. Our paramattas and crapes in this de- partment give satisfaction to the deepest woe. Permit me to show you a new texture, which we term the Inconsolable." With that he placed a pasteboard box before me, full of mourning fabrics. Is this it?" I inquired, lifting a lugubrious piece of drapery. Oh no he replied the one you have in your hand was termed 'the stunning blow shade;' it makes up well however, with our sudden bereavement' silk—a lead- ing article—and our distraction' trimmings." I am afraid," said I, "my commission says nothing about these novelties." Ladies in the country," he blandly replied, "are possibly not aware of the perfection to which the art of mourning genteelly is now brought. But I will see that your commission is attended to, to the letter." Giving another glance over my list. Oh a widow's cap is mentioned, I see. I must trouble you, sir, to proceed to the Weeds Department for that article-the first turning to the left." Proceeding as I was directed, I came to a recess fitted up with a solid phalanx of widows' caps. I selected some weeds expressive of the deepest dejection I could find; and having completed my commission, I inquired where I could procure for myself some lavender gloves ? Oh, sir, for those things," the attendant said, in the voice of Tragedy speaking of Comedy, "you must turn to your right, and you will come to the Compli- mentary Mourning counter." Turning to the right, accordingly, I was surprised and a little shocked to find myself once more among worldly colours; tender lavender I had expected, but violet, mauve, and even absolute red, stared me in the face. I was about retiring, thinking I had made a mistake, when a young lady, with a charming tinge of cheerfulness in her voice, inquired if I wanted any- thing in her department? "I was looking for the Complimentary Mourning counter," I replied, "for some gloves, but I fear I am wrong." "You are quite right, sir," she said; "this is it." She saw my eye glance at the cheerful silks, and, with the in- stinctive tact of woman, guessed my thoughts in a moment.. "Mauve, sir, is very appropriate for the lighter sor- r°"But absolute red," I retorted, pointing to some velvet of that colour,- "Is quite admissible when you mourn the depar- ture of a distant relative but may I show you some gloves ?" and suiting the action to the word, she lifted the cover from the glove box, and displayed a perfect picture of delicate half tones, indicative of a struggle between the cheerful and the sad. There is a pleasing melancholy in the shade of grey," she said, indenting slightly each outer knuckle with the elastic kid, as she measured my hand. Can you find a lavender ?" Oh, yes ;'the 'sorrow' tint is very slight in that, and it wears admirably." Thus by degrees, growing beautifully less, the grief of the establishment died out in the tenderest lavender, and I left, profoundly impressed with the charming improvements which Parisian taste had made on the old aboriginal style of mourning. But my task was not yet accomplished. A part of my commission was to select a neat and appropriate monument, the selection of which was left entirely to my own discretion. Accordingly I wended my way towards the New Road, the emporium of "monu- mental marble." Here every house has its marketable cemetery, and you see grief in the rough, and ascend- ing to the most delicately chiselled smoothness. Your marble mason is a very different stamp of man from the maison de deuil asssatant, and my entrance into the establishment I sought, was greeted with a certain rough respect by the man in attendance, who was chiselling an angel's classic nose. Will you kindly allow me to see some designs for a monument?" I inquired. Certainly, sir. Is it for a brother or sister, father, or mother, sir?" "A gentleman," I replied, rather shortly. "I hope no offence, sir-but the father of a family ? I nodded assent. Then will you please to step this way 1" he replied; and leading the way through the house, he opened a door, and we entered a back yard filled with broken, but erect, marble columns, that would not have disgraced Palmyra. That," said he, will be a very suitable article." "But," said I, "do you really break these pillars purposely?" "Why, that all de- pends, you see, sir. When the father of a family is called away on a sudden, we break the column off short with a rough fracture: if it has been a lingering case, we chisel it down a little dumpy. That, for instance," said he, pointing to a very thick pillar, fractured as sharp and ragged as a piece of granite, is for an awful sudden affliction—a case of apoplexy" —a wife and seven small children. "But," I observe, "there are some tall and some short columns." Well, you see," said he, that's all according to age. We break 'em off short for old 'uns, and it stands to reason, when it's a youngish one, we give him more shaft." "The candle of life is blown out early in some cases in others, it is burnt to the socket," I suggested. "Exactly, sir," he said, "now you have hit it." Nevertheless," I replied, I have not exactly made up my mind about the column. Can you show me any other designs ?" Yes, certainly, sir," with that he led the way again to the office, and place before me a large book of "patterns." We do a great deal in that way," he said, displaying a design with which my reader is probably familiar. It was an urn, after the old tea-urn pattern, half enveloped in a tablecloth, overshadowed by a weeping-willow and an exceedingly limp-looking lady, who leaned her forehead against the urn, evidently suffering from a sick head- ache. No," I said, I think 1 have seen that design before." Perhaps so," he replied; but really there are so many persons die, that we can't have something new every time." What is this? I inquired. It was an hour-glass and a skull overgrown by a bramble. Oh, that is for the country trade," he said, hastily turning over the leaf; we don't do anything in that way among genteel people. This is the snapped lily-pattern, but that won't do for the father of a family, and here is the dove-design, a pretty thing enough. We do a good many of them among the evangelicals of Clapham." A rather plump-looking bird, making a book-marker of his beak, was directing attention to a passage in an open volume. But," said I, have you no ornamental | crosses ?'" No," said he, you must go to Padding- ton for them sort of things. Lord bless your soul, we should ruin our trade if we was to deal with such Puseyite things." "I never knew before," said I, that sectarianism thus pursued us even to our tomb- stones." The art of design, it is quite clear, has not yet penetrated to the workshop of the marble-mason, so I was content to select some simple little design, and leave my friend to a resumption of the elaboration of the angel's nose, in which occupation I had disturbed him.-Once a Week.

MANIA FOR LOTTERY SPECULATION. From the moment one lottery is drawn, the mind of the people is intent on selecting numbers for the next. Nor is this an easy matter,—all sorts of superstitions existing as to figures and numbers. Some are lucky, some unlucky, in themselves,—some lucky only in certain combinations, and some sympathetic with others. The chances, therefore, must be carefully calculated, no number or combination being ever played without pro- found consideration, and under advice of skilful friends. Almost every event in life has a numerical significa- tion and such is the reverence paid to dreams that a large book exists of several hundred pages, called Libro dei Sogni," containing, besides various cabala and mystical figures and lists of numbers which are sympathetic," with directions for their use, a dic- tionary of thousands of objects, with the numbers sup- posed to be represented by each, as well as rules for interpreting into numbers all dreams in which these objects appear -and this book is the constant vade- mecum, of a true lottery-player. As Boniface lived, ate, and slept on his ale, so do the Romans on their numbers. The very children lisp in numbers, for the numbers come," and the fathers run immediately to play them. Accidents, executions, deaths, apoplexies, marriages, assassinations, births, anomalies of all kinds, become auguries and enigmas of numbers. A lottery-gambler will count the stabs on a dead body, the drops of blood from a decollated head, the passengers in an over-turned coach, the wrinkles in the forehead of a new-born child, the gasps of a person struck by apoplexy, the day of the month and. the hour and the minute of his death, the sciidi lost by a friend, the forks stolen by a thief, anything and everything, to play them in the lottery. If a strange dream is dreamed;—as of one being in a desert on a camel, which turns into a rat, and runs down the Maelstrom to hide,—the Libro dei Sogni" is at once consulted, the numbers for desert, rat, camel, and Maelstrom are found and combined, and the hopeful player waits in eager expectation of a prize. Of course, dream after dream of particular numbers and combinations occurs, -for the mind bent to this subject plays freaks in the night, and repeats contortedly the thoughts of the day, —and these dreams are considered of special value. Sometimes, when a startling incident takes places with special numerical signification, the run upon the num- bers indicated becomes so great that the Government, which is always careful to guard against any losses on its own part, refuses to allow more than a certain amount .to be played on them, cancels the rest, and returns the price of the tickets. Sometimes, in passing through the streets, one may see a crowd collected about a man mounted upon a chair or stool. Fixed to a stand at his side or on the back of his chair in a glass bottle, in which are two or three hollow manikins of glass, so arranged as to rise and sink by pressure of the confined air. The neck of the bottle is cased in a tin box which surmounts it and has a moveable cover. This personage is a charlatan, with an apparatus for divining lucky numbers for the lottery. The "soft bastard Latin" runs off his tongue in an uninterrupted stream of talk, while he offers on a waiter to the bystanders a number of little folded papers containing a pianeta, or augury, on which are printed a fortune and a terno. Who will buy pianeta," he cries, with the numbers sure to bring him a prize? He shall have his fortune told him who buys. Who does not need counsel must surely be wise. Here's Master Tommetto, who never tells lies. And here is his brother, still smaller in size. And Madame Medea Plutonia to advise. They'll write you a fortune and bring you a prize for a single baiocco. No creature so wise as not to need counsel. A fool I despise, who keeps his baioccp and loses his prize. Who knows what a fortune he'll get till he tries ? Time's going, Signori,-who buys ? who buys ? And so on by the yard. Meantime the crowd about him gape, stare, wonder, and finally put their hands to their pockets, out with their baiocehi, and buy their papers. Each then makes a mark on his paper to verify it, and re- turns it to the charlatan. After several are thus collected, he opens the cover of the tin box, deposits them therein with a certain ceremony, and commences an exhortatory discourse to the manikins in the bottle,-two of whom, Maestro Tommetto and his brother, are made to resemble little black imps, while Madama Medea Plutonia is dressed a la Francese) Fa una reverenza, Maestro Tom- metto Make a bow, Master Tommetto! he now begins. The puppet bows. Ancora Again! Again he bows. Lesto, Signore, un piccolo giretto Quick, Sir, a little turn And round whirls the puppet. "Now, up, up, to make a registry on the ticket! and do it conscientiously, Master Tommetto! And up the imp goes, and disappears through the neck of the bottle. Then comes a burst of admiration at his cleverness from the charlatan. Then, turning to his brother imp, he goes through the same role with him. "And now, Madama Medea, make a reverence, and follow your husband! Quick, quick, a little giretto And up she goes. A moment after, down they all come again in his call; he lifts the cover of the box; cries, Quanto, sei caro, Tommetto and trium- phantly exhibits the papers, each with a little freshly- written inscription, and distributes them to the pur- chasers. Now and then he takes from his pocket a little bottle containing a mixture of the colour of wine, and a paper filled with same sort of powder, and ex- claiming, A h tu hai fame e sete. Bisogna che ti dia da here e mangiare," pours them into a tin cup. It is astonishing to see how many of' these little tickets a clever charlatan will sell in an hour, and principally on account of the lottery-numbers they contain. The fortunes are all the stereotype thing, and almost in- variably warn you to be careful lest you should be ".tradito," or promise you that you shall not be tradito for the idea of betrayal is the corner-stone of every Italian's mind. Roóct di Ronta," in the Atlantic Monthly.

PECULATION IN MOROCCO. No one who is acquainted with the system of Eastern despotic governments, can wonder that their public functionaries make hay while the sun shines, and put the screw on their unfortunate inferiors while their short- lived power lasts. It is rare, indeed, for a governor of a town, or great official of any kind, to hold his post for a lifetime. The bashaws are all thrown into prison sooner or later, and the money they have extracted from others, pressed, in turn, out of themselves, to swell the imperial treasury. They are commonly very ob- stinate about giving it up, but the Emperor is at least equally firm. The application of cold water immediately after that of the bastinado, is found to be exceedingly efficacious in producing the discovery of the hole where the money is hidden. Millions of dollars lie buried by the Arabs in Maroquine earth at this moment, the half of which perhaps will never be found, the owners and sole possessors of the secret having expired before they could point out their hidden treasures to their relatives -a duty which, for obvious reasons, they delay until the very last moment. Money is often thus buried in this way by tribes who have nothing to fear from sheik or sovereign; it is their immemorial custom so to lose it, just as it is ours to intrust it to joint-stock banks. The Arabs, therefore, who cannot comprehend how European tourists can undertake such long journeys as they do for archaeological purposes, give them credit for a material object in their researches among heaps of old stones, and are proportionately jealous of their examinations. The old captain of the port of Tangier has been no less than twelve times in prison under the exhausting pressure of the Emperor. After the imperial miser has copiously bled his captain, he lets him out to fill his skin again; and the old gentleman is always merry and level, in spite of the treatment of his taskmaster. The bashaws adopt similar measures with their inferiors. Colonel Warrington was one day representing to the bashaw of Tripoli the gross manner in which his functionaries robbed everybody, and took the liberty of mentioning ithe name of one person. "Yes, yes," observed the bashaw, "I know all about him. I don't want to catch him yet; he is not fat enough. When he has gorged a little more, I'll have his head off!"— Richardson's Travels in Morocco.

SIDNEY SMITH ON ABSENCE OF MIND. Talking of absence, the oddest instance of absence of mind happened to me once in forgetting my own name. I knocked at a door in London and asked, Is Mrs. B at home?" "Yes, sir, pray what name shall I say ? I looked in the man's face astonished-what name ? Aye, that is the question what is my name ? I believe the man thought me mad; but it is literally true, that during the space of two or three minutes I had no more idea who I was than if I had never ex- isted. I did not know whether I was a Dissenter or a layman: I felt as dull as Sternhold or Hopkins. At last, to my great relief, it flashed across xae that I was Sidney Smith. I heard of a clergyman who went jog. ging along the road till he came to a turnpike. What is to pay?" "Pay, sir, for what?" asked the turn- pike man. "Why, for my horse, to be sure." Your horse, sir; what horse? here is no horse, sir." "No horse ? God bless me!" said he, suddenly looking down between his legs, "I thought I was on horse- back." Lord Dudley was one of the most absent men I think I ever met in society. One day he met me in the street, and invited me to meet myself. "Dine with me to-day, dine with me, and I will get Sydney Smith to meet you." I admitted the temptation he held out to me, but said I was engaged to meet him elsewhere. Another time, on meeting me, he turned back, put his arm through mine, muttering, "I don't mind walking with him a little way: I'll walk with him as far as the end of the street." As we proceeded to- gether W passed That is the villain," exclaimed he, who helped me yesterday to asparagus, and gave me no toast." He very nearly overset my gravity once in the pulpit. He was sitting immediately under me, apparently very attentive, when suddenly he took up his stick, as if he had been in the House of Com- mons, and tapping on the ground with it, cried out, in a low, but very audible whisper, Hear! hear! hear!" -Life of the Rev. Sidney Smith.

A TALE OF THE SPANISH1 ARMADA. It is stated by Hume, in the History of England," that when the Spaniards who escaped from the dis- persion of their fleet returned to their own country, they filled all Spain with accounts of the desperate valour of the English, and of the tempestuous violence of the ocean which surrounds them. True indeed it was, according to the medal struck on the occasion- "Afflavit Deus, et dissipantur" — God sent out his lp blast, and they were scattered." The whole circumfer- ence of the island bore witness to their defeat; and some of their ships, driven past the Orkneys, rounded the north of Scotland, and were wrecked among the Hebrides. Early one morning, before the overthrow of the Armada was known in Scotland, one of the baillies of Anstruther, a maritime town on the south-east coast of Fife, appeared at the bed-side of James Melville, the minister of the parish, and informed him that a ship filled with Spaniards had entered their harbour; adding, however, that they were come, not to give mercy, but to ask, and that the magistrates desired his advice how to act towards them. It was agreed after consultation, to give audience to the commander, and that the minister, who had some knowledge of the Spanish language, should convey to him the sentiments of the town. Intimation of this having been sent to the vessel, a venerable old man, of large stature and martial counte- nance, entered the town hall, and making a profound bow, and touching the minister's shoe with his hand, addressed him in Spanish. "His name was Jan Gomes de Medina; he was commander of twenty hulks, being part of the grand fleet which his master Philip, King of Spain, had fitted out to revenge the insufferable insults which he had received from the English nation; but God, on account of their sins, had fought against them, and dispersed them by a storm; the vessels under his command had been separated from the main fleet, driven on the north coast of Scotland, and wrecked on the Fair Isle; and after escaping the merciless waves and rocks, and enduring great hardships from hunger and cold, he and such of his men as were preserved had made their way in their only remaining bark to this place, intending to seek assistance from their good friends and confederates, the Scots; and to kiss his Majesty's hand (making another profound bow), from whom he ex- pected relief and comfort to himself, his officers, and poor men, whose condition was most pitiable." The minister then addressed the admiral as follows :— On the score of friendship, or the cause in which they were embarked, the Spaniards (he said) had nc claims on them. The King of Spain was a sworn vassal of the Bishop of Rome, and on,that account, they and their king defied him; and with respect to England, the Scots were' indissolubly leagued with that king- dom, and regarded an attack upon it as the same with an attack on themselves. But, although this was the case, they looked upon them in their pre- sent situation as men and fellow creatures, labour- ing under privations and sufferings to which they themselves were liable, and they rejoiced at an oppor- tunity of testifying how superior their religion was to that of their enemies. Many Scotsmen who -had resorted to Spain for the purposes of trade and commerce a been thrown into prison as heretics, their property confiscated, and their bodies committed to the names; but so far from retaliating such cruelties on them, they would give them every kind of relief and comfort which was in their power, leaving it to God to work such a change in their hearts respecting religion as he This answer being reported to the Spanish admiral by an interpreter, he returned most humble thanks; adding, that he could not answer for the laws and practices of his church, but as for himself there were many in Scotland, and perhaps m that very town, who could attest that he had treated them with favour and courtesy. After this, the admiral and his officers were conveyed to lodgings_ which had been provided for them, and were hospitably entertained by the magistrates and neighbouring gentlemen, until they obtained a licence and protection from his Majesty to return home. The privates, to the number of 260, mostly beardless young men, feeble and hungered, were supplied with kail, pottage, # and fish. Before their departure, the minister received a printed ac- count of the complete destruction of the Armada, with the names of the principal persons who had perished in the wreck of the galliots, on the coasts of Wales, Ireland, and Scotland. On this being imparted to J an Gomes, the tears flowed down the furrowed; cheeks of the hardy veteran. This adventure had a noble sequel, worthy of Spanish chivalry. Some time after this, a vessel belonging to Anstruther was arrested in a Spanish port. Don Jan Gomes was no sooner informed of this, than he posted to court, and obtained her release from the kin< to whom he spoke in the highest terms of the humanity and hospitality of the-Scots. He invited the ship's company to his house, inquired kindly after his ac- quaintances in the good. town of Anstruther, and sent his warmest commendations to their minister and other persons to whom he considered himself as most par- ticularly indebted. The mind feels relieved," says Dr. McCrie, who relates this story, "in turning from the battle of the warrior, with its confused noise and garments rolled m blood,' to contemplate the Image of Him who is a strength to the poor, a strength to the needy in his distress, a shadow from the heat, a refuge from the j storm, when the blast of the terrible is b as a storm against the wall.' It is pleasing to perceive the ardent t zeal of our ancestors against Popish errors, not inter- fermg with the calls of humanity and charity; and it, is consolatory to find that there have always been |" examples of generosity and gratitude-in a country,' which superstition has chosen for her favourite abode, and where bigotry has so long maintained her ini&le- rant, degrading, and most frightful reign."—^LeixUrt Hour.

REMINISCENCES OF THE MODERN NIMROD. Some twelve months since the world was informed ofttln <" death of one of the most celebrated sportsmen of modern; timjy.-jS. Mr. Thomas Assheton Smith. His loss was felt oy.hundreds p who had shared his company, his hospitality, or Im'boutltW » for he was truly a fine old English gentleman," in the fulles»l' acceptation of the term. It is scarcely to be expected tW 1 sV;cl1 a notability would be passed over without some biogi'a' pher handing down his memoirs to posterity; and his ad'; mirers will therefore hail with delight Sir J. Eardley Wilmot'fj recently-published "Reminiscences" of Mr. Smith, wh("; 1 evidently justly earned the soubriquet of "the modtefl 1 Nimrod." We extract the following from the work o itttt f biographer baronet :— THE FREE-TRADE 11 A.NTC. During the panic created by free-trade, at its com- mencement, a worthy farmer remarked to Mr. Smithi Jl that the cultivation of corn would soon cease. Sc much the better," observed the squire, smiling at his tenant's apprehension; "for then I shall hunt over a grass country. On another occasion, Lord Southampton said to a farmer who was too fond of over-riding bÍl! hounds, "I think, sir, that Sir Robert Peel's bill will stop you, though I cannot." HYDROPATHIC HUMBUG. The story goes, that a lover of the chase who wa3 somewhat addicted to the pleasures of the table, andj loved more glasses of port wine than was quite good for" him, consulted a hydropathic Galen respecting s^\ 'T symptoms in his kitchen department which were begly ning to give him alarm. The doctor recommended the application of the wet bandage to his stomach at bed- time, there to remain until the following morning. "I will see you to-morrow," added he, "when I shall be better able to judge of your symptoms." At night out hero, having saturated the folds of linen in cold spring water, began the application as directed, but the shock to his internal economy being greater than he had, bargained for, he bethought himself of taking off tl^4 chill by re-dipping the bandage into water in which there was a certain portion of his favourite beverage. Having thus made things rather more comfortable, he> waited the doctor s visit the next morning. Show your bandage," was almost the learned' man's first exclamation. It was produced. The doctor regarded. 1 its discolourations for a moment with feelings of lively satisfaction, and then solemnly addressing his patient, who had some difficulty iu. retaining his gravity, "1 thought so, sir," he said; "this is the port wine yo: 1 have drunk for the last twenty years coming out.' LETTERS FROM THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON. Once a report getting abroad that Mr. Smith wa dead, his Grace, (the Duke of Wellington,) who waf then in London, dispatched the Marquis of Douro immediately from Strathfi eldsaye to Tedworth, to mak' inquiries, and finding to his satisfaction that the squir1 was enjoying his usual robust health, the Duke wrote t. him the following letter:—" London, Nov. 12, 1851 My dear Smith,—They have killed you again in thes last days! But I have been happy to learn that tlJl' report is without foundation. They treat you in thi respect as they do me. I conclude that: it is in your capacity of Field Marshal of Eox-hunting. Ever yours, sincerely, WELLINGTON." Another ,note writ ten by the Duke is characteristic of the. writer:- "London, May 11, 1840. My dear Smith,—I hav<- received your note. I attend in Parliament fou" days in the week. At the Ancient Musick on We* nesdays. There remain Sunday and Saturday. Ever;, animal in the creation is sometimes allowed a holiday excepting the Duke of Wellington. There the day are, take any Saturday or Sunday that you please. should certainly like to have occasionally a day's lei sure, while the Ancient Concerts are going on, am the pressure of business is so heavy in Parliameni But my convenience, likings or dislikings, have nothing to do with the matter; they are not worth discsussinf • I would prefer anything rather than have a discussion on the subject. Remember me most kindly to Mrr Smith, and believe me ever yours most sincerely, W. APPEALING TO THEIR FEELINGS. During the early part of his hunting in Leicester shire, Mr. Smith was solicited to stand for the thorough of Nottingham. This undertaking at that time wal just as hazardous as for a Tory to stand for Wes' minster against such an idol as Sir F. Burdett the was. The very peril, however, was an iiiduceme. for Tom Smith to come forward; and a reception sue; as was to be expected awaited him. The town w placarded with "No Foxhunting M.P. and tl electors carried their virulence so far as to dress up guy w^h a red coat and a fox's brush appended to i' which they burnt in effigy before the hustings. M Smith's appearance there was the signal for a tremendous row; and not a word of his -speech, wlu he came forward to address them, would they hea. There, however, he remained, in defiance of their yer and hooting, till at last with a stentorian voice, heal above the uproar, he cried out, "Gentlemen, as yc refuse to hear the exposition of my poiltical principL at least be so kind as to listen to these few words. will fight any man, little or big, directly I leave th' hustings, and will have a round with him now for love." The affect of this "argumentum ad homines" wa electric. It had touched a sympathetic cord. -Instea' of yells and groans, there were rounds of cheers; ani. from that hour to the end of the contest, in which, aftf a hard struggle, he was beaten, not a single interru tion nor act of molestation was offered to him. HUNTING FALLS. Screwdriver, whose aets have been already me tioned, once fairly dislodged the squire into the midc of a gorse cover. He was finding his fox in some vei high gorse, near Conholt-park, and was sitting loosel on Screwdriver—who, by the way, even after Mr Smith took to him, always retained his untamabJ temper-when the wilful animal started aside, an kicked him over his head. Nothing, owing to th height of the gorse, could be seen of the squire, bl Screwdriver kept kicking and plunging in a circi round him. Let go the bridle, or he will be th- death of you," said a nervous well-meaning farmer. He shall kick my brains out first," was the reply ot the still prostrate sportsman, who was soon up and righted in the sandle. Although his falls were numc-, ous, owing to his never allowing his hounds to 4 away from him, yet he was very seldom seriously hurt. Only on two occasions had he a bone broken: once at Melton, when h&consoled himself by learning arithmetic, from the pretty ,damsel at the post-office; and afterwards when' ORè "of his ribs was fractured, owing, as he said, to his^having his knife in a breast- pocket. His presence of mind, when falling, never deserted him he always contrived to fall clear of his horse, and.never to let Mm go. Ihe bridle-rein, which fell as lightly as a breeze, or zephyr on his horse's neck, was then held as in a vice. THE ART OF FALLING IN THE HUNTING-FIELD. j In some instances, with horses whom he knew well, 1 he would ride for a ;fall, where he knew it was not possible for him to clear a fence. With J ack-o'-Lan- tern, he was often known, to venture on this experiment, and he frequently said there was not a fieltl in Leicester- shire in, wnich he had 1 never see you in the Har borough county", he observed to a gentleman? who occasionally hunM!-with the Quorn. "I don't much like your Harborough country," replied the other, the fences are so large."?' "Oh!" observed Mr. Smith, there is no place you-cannot get over with a fall." To a young supporter of this pack, who was constantly falling and hurting himself, he said, All who profess to ride should know hoiv-io fall." man," writes Nimrod in 1841, "knows so well as Mr. Smith does how to fall, which accounts for the trifling injuries he. has sustained; and I once saw an instance of his skill in this act of self-preservation. He stuck fast in a bullfinch, on his tall gray horse, his hinder legs being entangled in the growers, and there was every appear- ance of the horse falling on his head in a,deep ditch below him. A less cool man than Mr. Smith might have thrown himself from the saddle, in which case, had the growers given way at the moment, for the animal, appeared suspended by them, his horse might have fallen upon him ere he could have gotten out of his way. Mr. Smith, however, sat quiet, and by that means the well-practised hunter got his legs free, andi landed: himself in the field without further difficulty. At one time it appeared to me as if nothing could pre- vent him falling headlong into the ditch." No communications can be inserted unless authenticated by the name and address of the writer. j