ceived them. The days of anxious, careful study; the nights of weary writing; truth inspiring, creditors annoying, fame beckoning, hunger urging. Ah! the drudgery of brain-work! They who labor for a livelihood by the pen do truly earn their bread by the sweat of the brow.' But now this is all over. The restless brain is quieted, the hand is withered; their work is done; their mission in this world has reached its consummation, and they have passed to the land where all things are forgotten. These volumes are the memorials of the course of Death. As I gaze upon them, all this comes crowding on my mind. I feel the influence of by-gone days surround me, as if the departed spirits of other years yet lived and bore me company. I see their pale forms slowly glide by me; I hear their low-uttered, mourning tones of suffering and wo; I feel myself withdrawn into the invisible and eternal world; into the presence of those who being dead yet speak.' The old decayed binding, the antiquated text, the curious, quaint phraseology-there is much of mournfulness and much of sanctity in these. Look at that copy of Sacred Writ; two centuries old, blackened by time, worn by usage; how recollections of the spirit-stirring period that called it forth throng upon the memory! When that OMNIPOTENT WILL that placed the luminaries of heaven in their varied courses sent forth as of old his ministering spirits with the decree, 'Let there be light!' quickly did obedience attend the divine behest, and there was light!' Rays of celestial radiance streamed from the unsealed page, throwing their bright beams on the dark places of the earth. The path of truth was rendered plain, and hosts of strong-minded men sprang forward to follow it with zealous determination. CRANMER, CALVIN, LUTHER, MELANCTHON, hailed with pious exultation the Book of Books.

But go with me back to an epoch more ancient; count time by thousands of years rather than by centuries. Read the time-consecrated roll. Listen to the strains in which ancient Greece sang the plaudits of her defenders and heroes; look on the field of strife; see the struggling forms of the combatants; listen to the cries of the wounded and the shouts of the battle! Roll up the manuscript, and where is it all? They have passed away into the unbroken silence and the darkness of the grave! Time claimed them as his heritage; he set upon them the signet of oblivion. But the genius of the poet and the historian Time could not subdue. Again do the subjects of their rhyme and story act their varied parts like the images of a vision of the night, and then- -are gone! Think of the varied scenes through which those books have passed. Trace that manuscript through the multitude of events where it was either actor or witness, and follow it through the numerous hands that transmitted it to us. Sent forth originally, ornamented by the beautiful art of the skilful penman, laden with the precious lore of Grecian literature, it bestowed delight upon the man of letters, seated in his study; the scholar drew from it lessons of instruction as he walked with slow and studious step the garden of the teacher or the classic grove; gradually it fell into desuetude, became obsolete, thrown aside as mere rubbish; then some poetaster of the day removed the fruits of former labor and study to make space for his transient, frivolous productions. Those had a speedy transit, and again was the parchment thrown out of use. Then some zealous Christian, desiring the transmission of the life-giving WORD, effaced the labors of his predecessors, and substituted sacred epistle or holy narrative. Then, as the darkness of ignorance and the clouds of superstition covered the human heart and intellect, did the words of truth make way for some saintly legend and pious deceit—some holy lie. But then was the veil of blackness gradually raised; modern art removed successively

the different impressions on the parchment, until it resumed its primitive form and signification. And again, disregarding all the purely mental purposes to which they may be applied, how much that is mechanical is connected with printed volumes! It was not the work of an instant to transpose the skin that enclosed joyous physical life to the parchment that now bears the manifestation of spiritual life. It is no slight task to convert the plant of the field, which speaks of heavenly wisdom, to the paper which bears the record of man's teaching, which speaks of earthly wisdom. I speak of this mechanical idea as associated with books, not that it may be smiled upon and disregarded, as a thought of but little worth; for in truth it is a matter for serious reflection. Mechanism, physical labor, handicraft, is the very existence and well-being of millions constituted as we are, and exerting an illimitable influence. It is labor, not metaphysical speculations nor social theories, but strenuous labor, which is conquering the world. Let the wise man heed this. Despise not labor, for it is the strong arm and cunning hand, moulding the machine and the engine, that is shaping the destiny of nations.' We are gratified at the assurance that our new correspondent intends to resume, on another occasion, the train of thought here commenced.

GOSSIP WITH READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS. We have received a printed document from the brother and sister of the author of the pamphlet entitled 'Lo Here! and Lo There referred to in our last number, and do with pleasuré make its statements as widely public in our pages as were the charges upon which they are based. Both brother and sister are members of the Shaker society, the former having joined it some five years ago. The young lady affirms that it was from her own free and deliberate choice that she united with the people called Shakers; and that she has never been flattered, enticed or unduly persuaded by any one or more of this society to take this step; but that, on the contrary, she was repeatedly admonished by its leaders to weigh well the matter she had in view;' and that their advice to her was to 'count well the cost' before she undertook so important a work. With me,' she declares, 'it has not been a hasty nor an inconsiderate step, but a matter that has been attended with prayer and much serious reflection. It is several years since I learned from my brother something of the faith and principles of the Shakers, which seemed to me very rational and consistent, and evidently to accord with the teachings and example of CHRIST.' She subsequently visited the Society where her brother resided, when she gained a still more favorable impression toward the people and their principles; and not long after, 'from a full sense of her responsibility to God as her CREATOR, and her duty to herself and her parents, she made her final choice; and now intends firmly to maintain the position she has taken.' We give the remainder in her own words:

* SINCE I have united with this people I have been home, and openly and fairly stated my convictions, determinations and reasons for making this choice, so that my parents were reconciled to it; and I gave all who desired it an opportunity of conversing with me and of making all candid inquiries respecting my faith; and soon after my return I wrote several letters home expressive of my thankfulness and satisfaction for the choice I had made; and all was peace and quietness until my brother H came to see me and expressed his unwillingness to my remaining, and his determination to use compulsion if I would not go willingly away. I told him that it was from the exercise of my reason and understanding that I had taken this step, and that if he wished to get me away he

*THUS we have the palimpset, which DE QUINCY, in his 'Suspiria de Profundis,' makes the basis of some reflections, notable for their beauty and moral truth.

must go to work and show me my error, and that he must be calm and sit down and reason; but this he utterly refused to do, saying that he did not come to reason, but to take me away; and threatened, if I would not go then, that he would come with force the next week strong enough to accomplish it. Still I was in hopes he would see the folly of such measures and give it up; but the next week, on Tuesday morning, I was informed that some men had called and requested to see me; and I went from the building where I was at the time engaged, across the door-way to the house where they were, and met my brother F in the hall, when he asked me if I would walk down to the other house with him; we turned to go and met H on the steps.

They both asked me repeatedly if I would go home with them, but I would not consent, and H told me that every thing was prepared and I must go. I now saw that their purpose was to take me, whether I was willing or not, and I made an attempt to get into the house; they both attempted to hold me, but in doing so only got my cloak, so that I reached the door-step, when they both caught hold of me again and held me fast, and H-set up calling for help from his accomplices, whom be had in reserve for that purpose. At this juncture, those under whose protection I had placed myself, not willing to see me dragged off in this ruffian-like manner, assisted in liberating me from their grasp; but no blows were struck on either side, as he has represented.

The next week he came with a number of men in the evening, and served a writ of habeas-corpus on one of the members of the family for retaining me contrary to my feelings, and insisted on my going immediately with him and his men to Albany; but failing in thus getting me into his power, he went home and wrought up the feelings of my aged father by his slanderous and evil reports, making him believe among other things that I was insane; and they both came, determined to take me away, and father said that it was their intention to confine me in a lunatic asylum. But I am of lawful age, and, thank GOD, live in a country whose government guarantees to all religious freedom and liberty of conscience; and I am determined not to be compelled to act contrary to my conscientious views of right and wrong.'

This statement is confirmed by her brother, also, as we have said, a member of the Society; who adds, that it was with the consent and approbation of her parents that she joined the society; her father saying that if she could make up her mind to live contented with the Society, she would escape a great deal of trouble,' and her mother declaring that she felt as if she were giving a child to the LORD.' We have now placed the charges in this case against the Shakers, and the explicit denial of the parties most particularly interested in them, before our readers; and with the impartiality of a judge, we submit the whole without farther comment to that great jury, THE PUBLIC... . A FRIEND, who had just returned from the City of Notions,' gave us two or three days ago some of his 'experiences' in his peregrinations thereabout. Among other curious peculiarities of Boston, he took occasion to mention one which he encountered in a ramble he had after a julep, or some some other inspirative fluid. It would seem that bibatorial propensities in the Literary Emporium' are under a sort of moral check; that is, before the world. A refectory, like FLORENCE'S OF WINDUST's, with mirrors, paintings, and 'the rosy' temptingly displayed, with all the garniture of cut and colored crystal, would be 'tabooed,' and its proprie tor would literally 'clear himself' before six months. They do these things in Boston (and some others) quietly, in dark houses, generally up some alley, or in a by-street. Well, our friend was thirsty; for it was an August day, and very dusty. He wandered from Long-Wharf up State-street, looking about him for some such insignia as one sees sticking out about Water, Broad and William-streets, setting forth that 'mint juleps,' sherry-cobblers,' egg-nogg,' oysters in every style,' may be obtained there. All these sententious placards were non est. As good luck would have it, however, he met a Bostonian, with whom he had been made acquainted a few days before, to whom he named his views.' He was forthwith led to a small shop, the sign of which set forth that 'tobacco, snuff and segars' were sold there. His friend, instead of purchasing the weed in any of its varieties, inquired of the presiding divinity if the backroom was open? Yes,' she replied. They 'sank the shop' at once, for a clear delightful boudoir. In a nook in the corner stood what in old times was called a cupboard, and in this were 'the materials' for almost any sort of potable, from humble port to imperial tokay; in a word, the choicest of liquors and liqueurs; with all the varied accessories with which persons who imbibe season their different liquids; a

supply as full as the catalogue of spices and condiments in glorious JOHN WATERS' kitchen. Lemons, oranges, pine-apples, strawberries, indeed every thing calculated to make a tasteful summer libation, were in immediate proximity with cubes of crystal which had been ruthlessly robbed from Long-Pond when its waters were in fetters. Before the first bead of the luxuriant, snow-crowned, pine-appled, be-strawberried julep had passed his lips, he turned and whispered, 'Here comes one of O. F. M.' (our first men.") Entering from the shop-door, with a firm but cautious step, there advanced a man of some eighty years. He was in full preservation; even the bloom had not left his cheek. A life of frugality and temperance had left him that, although he still bore about him the unmistakeable and ineffaceable imprint of time. In a few minutes after,' says our informant, my friend excused himself, and left the old gentleman and myself tête-à-tête together. Being rather of a social turn, I entered into conversation with him; first about general matters, such as rail-roads, steamers to England, etc.; but happening incidentally to touch on Bunker Hill and its monument, I found I had struck the vein: for I had before me a living witness of the Great Battle, 'able and willing' to give me a personal account of it. I was a 'prentice-boy in Boston,' said he, when the war broke out. My father lived in Concord, and was a red-hot Whig. My master 'took sides' with the British; I believe because he could not get his property away from Boston in time, and he had too much to lose. On the morning of the battle I heard the cannons firing, and saw the red-coats defiling through the streets. Pretty soon my master told me to shut the shop; and right glad was I to do it; for just across the way stood about the tallest house in the town, and I knew the occupants, and that the roof commanded a full view of the battle-ground. I mounted up there, as you may suppose, considerable quick. It was such a good place to see from that when I got there I guess there was as many as a dozen red-coats there, a-lookin' on too. I could see though, easy enough, that they were mighty uneasy. I heard the roar of the cannon from the ships, but I could not get a good view of the hill on account of the smoke. After a while a breeze sprung up, and I could n't help taking up one of the long spy-glasses that lay around, and with that I could see the hill and the whole fight as plain as day. It had only jest begun. A company or regiment of Britishers marched up, followed right off by another. They had almost reached the top, when a long streak of white smoke puffed out and rolled right down over 'em. The breeze was now pretty brisk, and as it wafted the cloud away we could discover nothing of the proud ranks that had marched up so gaily; but where I thought they would have stood, there lay rows of prostrate men. It seemed very curious to me; and boy as I was, I could n't help calling out to the officer whose glass I had: Hello! Captain!' says I,' your men are falling down! I see a hull lot on 'em a-lyin' on the grass! Oh, ay, said he, that is a part of the discipline; it is what we call a 'ruse de guerre;' a trick in the art of war. They'll rise presently, you'll see, and carry every thing before 'em.' But now another column of red-coats marched up the hill; a line of smoke puffed out jest as it did before, and they lay down right away too, 'cept some few, who went off as if they were lame. Captain,' says I, ' do you see that?' 'Yes,' says he, 'I do; but they'll get up again when they hear the sound of the trumpet.' 'Oh, yes!' says I, 'like as not; but I guess when they hear that sound it will come from a darn'd sight louder trumpet than any that you've got in your army; that trumpet won't be blow'd till resurrection morning! And I was pretty nigh right,' added the old patriot; ' for I'm blow'd if it's been blow'd yet, any how! Those were the times that tried

men's souls,' down east. THERE is sage advice to young lovers in the annexed timely Valentine. Heaven save our young readers every where from shilly-shallying coquettes, female or male! If there is any thing, by-the-by, more contemptible than the latter, we have never had the ill-fortune to encounter it:

I. W. P.

'I PROFESS,' writes an always agreeable correspondent, to be something of a sportsman, and a Yankee to boot. Guess' then my chagrin at being outwitted as I once was, when on a gunning expedition in the western part of this State. There were eight of us, each armed with a rifle, which said rifles were kept loaded from sun to sun. After a somewhat fatiguing forenoon's tramp, we stopped at a 'lodge in the wilderness;' a sort of hostelrie much frequented by sportsmen ; and there, after eating and drinking our fill, it was proposed to shoot at a target, some forty yards distant, and the one who shot widest from the mark was to foot the bill. The proposition was agreed to. The target consisted of a pine board, about two feet square, with a bull's-eye' in the centre. I was the last to fire; all had hit the board, although there were some poor shots. Conscious of my own skill, I took but careless aim; but what was my surprise to learn that I had not hit the board at all! Of course I paid the bill. During the afternoon I learned that one of my kind friends had, while my back was turned, at the lodge,' drawn the ball. I said nothing, but bided my time. Not many days after we were similarly situated 'down to Rehab.' The same 'good-natured friend,' during my absence, drew the ball from my rifle, unobserved, as he supposed. After dinner he bantered me somewhat on my late shot, and offered to bet the day's expenses of the company that I could not hit a moderate-sized tree that stood some fifty yards from the door. I accepted the bet, provided he would add a new hat on our return to the settlements. This was agreed to. I fired, and of course my ball was buried in the centre of the oak, much to my friend's amazement. I had that morning put two balls in my rifle. So you see, I had him there! THIS Magazine cannot gratify the ambition of the 'Anti-Slavery Journal. The vituperation and intemperate foul-mouthed denunciations, which we are assured are always its only noticeable characteristics, preclude even the contemptuous notice which, rather than none, it evidently seeks at our hands.