ing armed himself with a cudgel, for the purpose of putting this design into execution. He was not at all the sort of person who pursues the path of pleasure in secret, and prudentially avoids the publicity which sometimes is fatal to the object he wishes to attain; he, on the contrary, with a confidence of spirit and buoyancy of mind congenial to ardent temperaments, and common to those possessed of peculiarly fine personal appearance, was frequently in the habit of alluding to his pursuits and contemplated exploits, and he often mentioned to his young friends have quite appalled her to have even entertained a thought of, was urged by him, and at last consented to reluctantly by her, and eventually many nights in the week he used to repair to the bridge which lies at one entrance to the walk leading from Clonmel onwards to Carrick-on-Suir, and she wrapped up in her cloak and shawl, used to be also sure to join him there. As her sister was her confidante and attendant as far as the bridge, her progress out of the town did not alarm the suspicion of any of her friends who resided there; but after their separation, and her joining him for their ramble the officers of the regiment which he betogether, some young men belonging to the longed to-the various circumstances attendtown were frequently observed by him to ing this affair. He told them of the annoymake their appearance suddenly from some ance experienced from the unknown parties, turn of the roads which branched from the and from one of them he borrowed the stick river-side, or sometimes from the fields on with which he was armed on the occasion the side of the country which they pass- I speak of. His air, his manner, his attied as they proceeded down the course of tude, the confident words, the oaths, the exthe road leading to Carrick. Had this oc- position of his disgust at the baseness, the currence taken place only once or twice it meanness, the cowardice of the parties who would not have caused them any disturb- thus dogged him, and his frequent reiteraance; but the frequency of the interruption, tion of the assertion that he would treat and the circumstances of the parties who them as they deserved, are now as vividly caused it following him and Miss Graves at impressed on my mind as though they had some little distance as they pursued their appeared before my view yesterday. I do walk, irritated and annoyed him excessively, not coin it from my fancy, it passed before and caused her great uneasiness. Who the my eyes. What morals, what lessons, what parties were, what their object, and why they warnings do the numerous events which we dogged him in this disagreeable and unmanly meet with in our career through life afford to manner, he was totally unable to find out, point us to what Scripture and truth inculand she was equally in the dark on the sub-cate as errors and snares to be avoided, and ject. It might have been that the men were in hopes that he would propitiate them by giving them some douceur, to insure their permitting him and his companion to proceed unobserved; or it might have been, though not probable, that some jealous admirer of the lady had watched the progress of their intercourse, and taken steps to molest the privacy of their meeting though he could not prevent its occurrence. From those who were her well-wishers, such conduct could never have arisen; and from any enemy of his, the secret, the dishonest breaking in upon his path, was so contemptible and hateful, that few could wonder at his rage in He proceeded then, in the highest zest of finding himself so frequently and so un- good spirits, to the appointment which he pleasantly harassed. Of any feeling border- had made to meet the young lady at the ing on enmity which could exist between her bridge. On his approach, she, according to and any inhabitant of the town, she was to- her custom, parted from her sister and joined tally unconscious. But, notwithstanding all him. Her only sister was her sole friend this, very seldom indeed did they proceed and counsellor. She had not trusted to her on their walk without encountering the ap- mother early in the transaction, and was, pearance of some of these young people. consequently, deprived of the comfort which At length he was so far exasperated with the admonition and guidance of one more their conduct that he resolved to inflict a elderly and nearly allied to her could have corporal punishment upon the first intruder at first given her. Afterwards, as the matwho should make his appearance; and, pre- ter began to be more serious, shame previous to his leaving his quarters for the in-vented her from opening her heart to her tention of joining Miss Graves, he one even-mother, and thus the first step of transgres delusions of Satan to be shunned! If we would look around us, or recollect what has passed to our knowledge, there is much, very much, to corroborate the truth, "Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth." And many are the instances of a headlong course of vice being arrested by Him who holds the weaving of our earthly thread of life at His own disposal, and whose almighty decree ofttimes wills it that our pleasant vices Make instruments to scourge us." sion led to consequences which she never this bank her sister had walked unperceived, could have contemplated. Under pretence and overheard what passed between them. of visiting a relative, her sister and herself On their arrival at the turn of the lane, her used to leave the paternal roof, and the in- sister hurried homewards by the way she terview which took place between her and came, and did not wait to hear more, nor young Mr. Clany did not ever last very long; yet stay at the bridge for her return. For but while they were engaged together, her her return, alas! The next day neither did sister used to go to the house of their rela- her friends see or hear more intelligence of tive, and return from thence in time to meet Miss Graves, or the officers of the regiment her at the bridge after her walk, and then gain any information in answer to their inwould accompany her home. Such was the quiries for Mr. Clany. Many and various usual order of the interview. But, on the were the rumors; her family supposed that night that I speak of, when he left the bar- they had eloped. The roads, the different racks and met her at the bridge, he was sur-stage-coach offices, the drivers of cars, and prised to find her alone. They joined com- the police, all these were resorted to and pany, and proceeded on the walk down the those examined; but no trace, no news, no river Suir, leading on towards Carrick. clue to lead to the truth of what had transThey did not speak much for the first hun-pired or what had become of the youthful dred yards, but when they found themselves couple. It was, however, so far evident that in a part that was not overlooked, and where they could converse unobserved, he paused and turned to the figure which was beside him. He found she was in tears. On his asking her what grieved her, it was long before she found words to answer him. She shed floods of tears, she buried her face in her handkerchief, and seemed as if it was impossible she could find comfort. At last she spoke. She addressed him in a mournful manner, entreating him to recollect the time, the situation, and the circumstances under which she first met him; the hopes that she entertained of his acting so that she might be placed in a situation not to be spurned and slighted by her friends; the cruel shock that his long delay of declaring himself had given to her feelings; and many more expostulations and expressions of grief she used, but ended by saying that it was the last, positively the last, time that she could ever consent to be in his society until he spoke seriously to her friends, and that, now their intercourse had proceeded so far that her sister had told her she would not any longer allow herself to be her associate in those excursions from home, and that she fully intended to inform their parents of all that had passed between him and her that had come to her knowledge. When the weeping girl, in her heart stricken accents, implored and appealed to him to show that he was indeed friendly and honorably disposed, by relieving her of a doubt more bitter than any actual pain could be to her-namely, the doubt of whether his affection was real or feigned-whether he wished to make her honorably regarded or slighted and scorned by the world-whilst she was conversing, they walked onwards, and arrived at a part of the road where there is a lane branching outwards from the river. But there was a high bank between the road and the country, and on the other side of they had not taken their departure in any vehicle from the town, but it was barely possible that they might have walked to some distance and engaged some driver by a large reward to take them up and drive to some place where they might find some public conveyance. However, no pains were spared to make the inquiry effective. The officer in command wrote to the persons in the stage-coach offices in the several towns of the neighborhood, detailing the descriptions of both, and the circumstances attending their absence. The police repaired to the riverside and searched eagerly to find, by the trace of footsteps or by any marks that could show themselves, as to what could have taken place in the spot where they were last seen. One of the policemen found a hat near the road or lane which branched off from the riverside, and proceeded with it to the barracks. On this the supposition immediately suggested itself that some struggle had taken place between some party unknown and Mr. Clany, and that the hat had fallen off and the unfortunate young man been thrown into the river. On further inquiry, the hat was identified by a hatter in the town as one which had been purchased by the young officer. After this, the excitement that ensued was immense. The officer in command wrote to the friends of Mr. Clany, informing them of the mysterious and unfortunate transaction, and all the officers of the regiment agreed upon giving a large reward to any person who could give effective information relative to it. The feeling that prevailed amongst the soldiers was so strong against the inhabitants of the town, that, after about a week, the authorities of the district judged it proper to remove the regiment to a distant quarter. But, previously, the commanding officer had put Mr. Clany's friends in possession of all the facts that could be elicited, and sub side, and renewed their injunctions to the dragmen to continue their search, when, after the lapse of half an hour, about fifty yards from where the officer's body was found, the men succeeded in lighting upon the lady's. It was raised up. The same peaceful, calm, beautiful repose which marked the character of her countenance when living, was set and fixed upon her features in death. "In life itself she was so still and fair, mitted to their choice whether he should friends of the young lady, as well as the then have the river dragged, or wait until elder Mr. Clany, remained still at the riverthe arrival of some responsible friend of his to superintend the mournful task. Mr. Clany's brother wrote to say that he would forthwith take his departure for Clonmel. He went, but did not reach the town till after the regiment had left it. Taking into consideration the interest created by the mysterious event, and also the great likelihood of animosity ensuing in consequence of it between the military and the civilians of the town, it was no matter of surprise that the general of the district should advise the removal of the regiment. which never to this day has been lifted-envelops the strange transaction in such a shroud of horror, that I know not if any occurrence, whether foreign or domestic, that ever was recorded seemed to bear more of the impress of atrocity, or to mark more the detestable treachery which characterizes the course of murderous deeds in Ireland than this. Little more remains to be added. That death with gentler aspect withered there." It was truly touching. But the sad conWhen the brother of Mr. Clany arrived, solation still showed itself to her friends, he first hired men, under the superintend- that no violence of any kind could have been ence of the police magistrates, to drag the used before throwing her into the river, and river in the vicinity of the spot where the that the fiends in human shape who were the hat was found. It was well that during this guilty perpetrators of this diabolical deed, anxious and dreadful process, there were not had inflicted no previous torture before they present any of the soldiers who had served executed their inhuman purpose. But the under the command of the young officer. horrid mystery of the story of how the transThis additional stimulus to the excited feel-action occurred-the veil of concealment ings which moved all of them would doubtless have been productive of the most serious consequences to the peace of the town, and would probably have caused bloodshed; for there was something of so harrowing a nature in the doubt and anxiety which dwelt in the minds of all those who superintended the fearful task, that the effect which its operation might have worked in acting upon ignorant and passionate young men might When the coroner's inquest sat on the have been appalling. After several hours' bodies, as if to increase the doubt of what labor in the deep and fast-flowing waters of could possibly be the cause of their dreadful the Suir, the dragsmen struck upon a body and sudden murder, one of the servants of that was lying still at the bottom of the river, the deceased officer deposed that his master about two hundred yards from the place was so perfect a swimmer, that on one occawhere the hat was found, and a short way sion, in one of the lakes near Athlone, in from the shore. They drew it up. There Ireland, of a moonlight night in summer, he was now no doubt. It was the corpse of had jumped from on board a boat in which the unfortunate young man-poor Frederick he and a brother officer and the servant had Clany. His countenance was quite serene; been seated, and from which they had been his clothes were not in any way displaced; fishing, and had swum across the lake in his his face or body bore no mark of violence. clothes to the opposite shore. This occurred He had been lying probably in that position only about a year before, and argued strongly and place for several days, and no sign of that, had it merely happened that she had any decomposition had ensued. The frame, fallen in, with his expert swimming and the stature, the features, were all exhibiting strength he would have soon seized her and the finest symmetry of the human figure. drawn her in safety to shore. But no; the The youthful spirit cut short in its very monster or monsters who enacted the tragspring-time of fervent energy! the wild ex-edy must have first stunned him, and then, uberance of temperament extinguished in after the body had been thrown in, the rest the very heyday of youthful joyousness! the of the heart-rending act could have been pale, cold corpse, all that remained to remind those that knew him of the frail tenure which binds the leasehold of our mortal existence, the miserably poor hope of happiness which dazzles before the eye of the world's votaries! But only half of the sad catastrophe which had befallen the youthful pair had as yet been disclosed, and the easily carried into execution. There was no house, cottage, or tenement near enough to the probable scene of this dreadful drama for any of its inmates to hear either cries or noise of any kind. When his boxes and papers were examined by his brother, many letters and notes from the lovely girl attested the interest of the attachment which existed between them. His tomb lies in the small church of Clonmel, and near it the tomb of the unfortunate but innocent partner in his fate. "Who will not sigh for the young soldier's Who fell, in youth and gayety, elate? Which holds the victims of mysterious hate, How ruthless was the fiend who struck the blow! How hateful are the haunts that then supplied And 'scaped from mortal justice meet below, But the All-seeing Eye, beneath whose care Oh, could these awful truths their lesson bear, And warn from error's fond delusive sway, That night's terrific scene might well impart It's solemn caution to the saddened heart! THE MARONITES AND THE DRUSES.-The agance, but who is adored as a god of the Maronites, so called from the name of the an- Druses. This people, who are divided into sects, cient solitary Maron, have belonged to the Latin also worship a calf, in remembrance both of the Church since the twelfth century. Even before Egyptian ox Apis and of the golden calf adored quitting heresy for the Roman Catholic faith, by the Jews, unfaithful to the law of Jehovah. they fraternized with the warriors of the first The Druses conceal the rites of their religion, crusade, and guided them to Jerusalem. Sub- and their life is a dark mystery. They hold sequently, according to the Catholic traditions Europeans in horror, and the greatest insult of the Lebanon, they fought under the Christian which one Druse can address to another is, banners during the wars of the Cross. They" May God put a hat on your head!". This are a vigorous and valiant race; and before the tribe which was powerful in the last century, was last massacre they were about 250,000 in num- decimated fifty years ago by the celebrated Emir ber. Their principal prelate takes the title of Bechir; it has increased in numbers during the Patriarch of Antioch. There are several Mar-last thirty years, but has not yet regained its onite families with European names-a circumstance which leads to the belief that some of the Franks, in the time of the crusades, must have established themselves in the Catholic district of the Lebanon. The Maronites-the French of the cast by faith, reminiscences, and predilections are much attached to the country of St. Louis; and they preserve as a glorious testimony two letters of protection, one from Louis XVI. the other from "the Emperor and Most Christian King, Louis XV." In the Lebanon the Maronites lived in security, and that district being closed against the Turks, it was an inviolable asylum. After the battle of Navarino, it became the refuge of the consuls and Europeans who were menanced by the Mussulmans. The Franks in former times used to prefer as their refuge the Kesroan, the richest and most beautiful region of the Lebanon, exclusively possessed by Roman Catholics, and which, in about twelve leagues square, supports more than 100,- ELECTRIC bells and telegraphs are likely to be 000 inhabitants. In other parts of the Lebanon brought into use in private mansions and hotels. the Maronites are mixed up with the Druses. A firm in the Rue Neuve S. Augustine, in Paris, The Druses derive their name from Durzi, a undertakes to fit them up for large or small personage of the eleventh century, one of those houses, with communications, if required, with who preached the divinity of Haken, a Caliph, the grounds and summer-houses of gentlemen's whose reign was a long and monstrous extrav-seats in the country. THIRD SERIES. LIVING AGE.' 542 former importance. The Maronites are more numerous than the Druses, and if the two were left to themselves it is not the adorers of Haken and of the calf who would gain the day; in fact, unaided, they would not accept the conflict. The frankness of an open combat is not compatible with their character; they prefer ambuscades and incendiary fires. As all the Mussulman sects unite against Catholicism, the Druses easily find auxiliaries in the barbarian popula tions of the neighborhood-the Metualis, the Kurds, and the Bedouins. If the Turkish authorities either openly or tacitly make common cause with them, nothing checks their coursethey accumulate horrors with all the frenzy of unbridled erime, This is what they have recently done, as is proved by the frightful details which have been recently published.—Press. From The Press. LESLIE, THE ACADEMICIAN.* THE pictures of Mr. Leslie have been long known and will not easily be forgotten. For refined sentiment pointed by quiet satire; for polite polished manners of studied stately propriety touched by gentle comedy where the loud laugh seldom enters; for delicate delineation of character; for subtle traits, piquant yet beauteous, the name of Leslie will long be remembered. In these "Recollections" the man himself is now before us. We look upon his character here portrayed by his own hand, as we have gazed upon his pictures, open and without disguise. In the man and in his painted works we alike discover the simplicity of a true nature, the sincerity and the sympathy of a warm heart; the culture and the refinement of a literary taste, sparkling with that rich vein of humor which in his art lights up his pictures, and in his writing gives point and play to his well-told anecdotes. The story of Mr. Leslie's life is soon told. He was born in London, towards the close of the last century, of American parents then residing in England. At an early age he is taken to America; his father dies in necessitous circumstances; his mother is obliged to keep a boarding-house, his sister to teach drawing; and he himself on his first entrance upon the world is apprenticed to a bookseller in Philadelphia. But the bent of his genius was soon manifested. He draws by stealth when he should have worked; and at last a portrait of Cooke the actor obtains notice, secures him a subscription, and forthwith he is sent at the age of seventeen to London for the furtherance of his art-studies. From this moment his future career takes its date. He falls under the tuition and into the society of West, Fuseli, Allstone, Irving, and Coleridge. He is the art-student discussing with his fellow-artists the merits of the Apollo and the claims of the Elgin Marbles. He is the man of literary tastes, and becomes the associate of literary aspirants who have since like himself attained to fame. They talk to him of his pictures, and he in turn criticises their books. He designs illustrations for "Knickerbocker" and the "Sketch Book"-the works which first secured for his friend, Washington Irving, a European reputation. He is made an academician; he marries, delights in a happy home, is loved by his friends and honored by all the world. And so at the close of a long and an earnest life he exhibits in the academy * Autobiographical Recollections. By the late C. R. Leslie, R.A. Edited with a Prefatory Essay on Leslie as an Artist, and Selections from his Correspondence, by Tom Taylor, Esq. Two Vols. London: Murray. of 1859 his two last works, " 'Hotspur and Lady Percy," "Jeanie Deans and Queen Caroline: "2 "The day after (says Mr. Tom Taylor) the academy opened its doors, while the public were still crowding round these two pictures-one remarking perhaps, Leslie is falling off,' to which a more thoughtful spectator might have responded by pointing out the good taste, beauty, and sentiment which still reigned through even these less vigorous works-the painter lay dead who had lived a life of unclouded happiness with and cold amid the unutterable grief of the wife him for three-and-thirty years, and the children who had been so near his heart, and who had loved in him the most thoughtful, self-sacrificing, and tenderest of fathers."-Vol. II. p. 315. Leslie's life of peace and death of resignation is well contrasted by Mr. Tom Taylor with Haydon's tempest-tost career. It has fallen to the lot of Mr. Taylor to edit the autobiographic remains of both these illustrious artists. Haydon deemed himself the martyr to high-art; Leslic, with no giant ambition, was content with small quiet cabinet pictures, and in these found sufficient reward. Haydon was reckless in his assault upon difficulties and unscrupulous in the means employed for their removal, and in art his pictures, though vigorous, were hasty, slovenly, and coarse. Leslie was patient, painstaking, and quiet, and good taste and moderation mark as much his manners as his pictures. Haydon was alternately elated by wildest hope and depressed by deepest despair; his life was a struggle and a warfare, closed in suicide. Leslie, on the other hand, calmly pursued the quiet tenor of his way-his mind in happy equipoise, his works in unobtrusive moderation. He was indeed, in the words of Mr. Taylor, "averse to exclusive theories or loud-sounding self-assertion in all forms; closing a happy, peaceful, successful, and honorable life by the calm and courageous death of a Christian, and leaving behind him pictures stamped in every line with good taste, chastening humor, and graceful sentiment-pictures which it makes us happier, gentler, and better to look upon-pictures which help us to love good books more, and to regard our fellowcreatures with kindlier eyes." Between Haydon and Leslie lie the broad shadows of dividing contrast. On the other hand, Leslie and his friend Washington Irving are linked together by a kindred nature and taste, and afford some points for interesting comparison. Each was by birth an American, yet each in manner of painting and writing essentially English; each was conspicuous for perfect good taste; each was alike hearty in the love of "the nearer past of English life and manners," in unaffected |