is well worthy of being tried by those who have failed to derive benefit from other systems of treatment. As an alterative, the grape cure is probably a sound system, and it deserves more attention at the hands of English doctors than it has hitherto met with. It is as an alterative that it is looked on with favor by many of the most sound and sensible doctors in Germany, and many patients are sent by them from all parts of the country to try it. Independently of the question of grape cure, Dürkheim is well worthy of a visit. The position of the place is very charming, and several objects of interest exist in the immediate neighborhood. The town is an ancient one, but as it was burnt down during the wars of Louis XIV., it contains no building of any interest. Dürkheim was formerly the capital of the Counts of Leiningen, a family now represented by the Prince of Leiningen, the nephew of our own queen, and continued their capital till the French revolution, when their castle was burnt down, and the principality and all their property was confiscated. Leiningen, the Stamm-Schloss of the family, is a few miles distant, perched most picturesquely on the top of a conical hill. The family possess no longer any property in the neighborhood. No princely or noble families exist any lonin the Palatinate. The French revoluger tion was the sponge which wiped them all out. Money is now the only nobility, and perfect equality is dominant. Property is much divided. The owners of vineyards are the people of the greatest influence. Within half a mile from Dürkheim are the magnificent ruins of the Benedictine convent of Limburg, built of the red sand stone of the country, which is as sound as on the day on which it was taken from the quarry. Like the castle of Leiningen, and many other places in the range of Haardt, the convent was perched on the flat top of a round conical hill. This common characteristic feature in the scenery of the Haardt is clearly due to the erosive action of the water of the great lake, which must at one time have filled the whole plain, before the Rhine had succeeded in bursting its way to the ocean. Another very interesting object in the neighborhood of Dürkheim is the Heidenmauer, a circular enclosure on the top of a high mountain, overlooking the whole plain, formed of loose stones, sixty feet in breadth, twelve feet in height, and one and a half mile in circumference. The ancient Germans were probably its constructors, and its uses were, it is thought, of a religious charand Limburg the subject of one of his novacter. Cooper, the novelist, has made it els. Other objects of interest exist in the neighborhood, but it would be tedious to enumerate them. The scenery all over the Haardt range of mountains is so picturesque and charming that the patient is seldom at a loss how to while away the time both with heim is not the only place in the Haardt instruction and pleasure to himself. Dürkwhere the grape cure is carried on. Neustadt and Gleisweiler, in the neighborhood of Landau, are rivals. The latter of these two places is beautifully situated high up in the face of the mountains, and combines a hydropathic establishment with the Both Persons who cannot find acgrape cure. commodation at Dürkheim are in the habit hotel Lowe at Neustadt, near the railway of going to either of these places. The station, is very good, the cooking is excellent, and the wine faultless. MORNING. And clothed with light of aery gold Perhaps there is no description of the coming on of light so perfect as that which Shelley has given us in his little poem, The Boat on the Ser-Day had awakened all things that be,chio.-Transcript. THE stars burnt out in the pale blue air, And the Apennines' shroud of summer snow, The lark and the thrush and the swallow free, And the milkmaid's song and the mower's scythe, And the matin bell and the mountain bee. The crickets were still in the meadow and hill. PERE LA CHAISE. Amid its tones half pensive, half in glee, Murmured in fading words and by the sea [The following verses were suggested by a visit to the resting-place of Béranger. He is buried by the side of Manuel, one of the patri. otic statesmen of 1830. The same tombstone commemorates both names; on the one side is engraved the extract from Manuel's speech, given below; the other is covered with immor-But telles and other offerings to the poet.] Two great names carved upon a simple stone; Two great hearts mouldering 'neath the same green grass; The patriot's voice, the poet's softer tone, Ceasing together, into silence pass. The one was bred to arms, and served the State; Firm against hostile ranks or storms of sound. A spotless knight of France, he knew to wield By Manuel, who assailed the people's wrongs; Of cottage hearths, around thy shrine are hung Their votive wreaths, the village maidens bring Old men and youths pay homage to thy name, "A poor man's tribute to his father's friend." Forever by the land that gave thee birth? I muse on memories of the double grave, On great deeds done and great things nobly said. Peace to the ashes of the good and brave! The summer sunlight fell and pierced their vine-clad bowers. the blue sea unchanged around the isles Pours its vast flood and gently ebbs and flows, Unvexed by storms, while heaven above it smiles, And earth looks on wrapped in its own repose, Unheeding how they lie, dead violet and Welcome calm Autumn days, whose hours distil Were Nature's chalice drained-her page an A DRIFTING LEAF. H. J. L "EARLY torn from thy tree, When the hurricane broke "The north wind, or west, From the hill to the plain, HOPE. -Spectator. Remote from change they rest, whate'er be- WHEN I do think on thee, sweet Hope, and bow, tide, Beneath the soil they lived to grace and save, J. N. THE LAST DAY OF OCTOBER, 1862. THE sea is calm and beautiful to-day, As if fair Summer still o'er land and wave Wielded her sceptre, and the south winds play Among the withered leaves, and seem to crave The beauty that lies low in many a floweret's grave. Thou followest on our steps, a coaxing child, Thou mindest me of Him, the Ruler mild, And bore with wayward murmurs, meek as thou dim; But still with milk and honey-droppings fed, HARBEN'S LOVE SONG. ZOSTERA MARINA, grim Manchester's shaking, mill. It seems to myself that the notion was clever, The proof of the pudding's in eating, my weed. COCKNEY CRITICISM.-Among the notices of new music wherewith some of our contemporaries at times delight the world, we see it said of one "morceau pour le piano," that The sparkling roulades of the birds are rendered with great effect." in the heading to this letter. There is a set of "NEWS FROM THE STYX."-The mandate of fashion has gone forth, and as may be read in the Follet, and seen at certain French and Eng lish watering-places, a lady is henceforth, if she "Sparkling roulades of the birds!" Well, wishes to be considered as completely furnished, what next we wonder! We suppose we shall to carry a stick. We see no objection to the soon hear of the vibrato of the nightingale, and arrangement, indeed we suppose that it is a logithe sostenuto notes of the blackbird or the thrush. cal necessity consequent upon the increase in Or we may live to see it said of a Prize Canary crinoline. As it is now impossible for a prop Show, that such and such a feathered songster erly dressed lady to reach a friend with her hand, had an exquisite organ, and won repeated plau-she is supplied with the means of giving him a dits by the vehemence and clearness of its ut de poke with a stick when desirous to attract his poitrine. Song-writers may, moreover, be catch-attention. All we venture to hope is, that the ing the infection, and may speak of sylvan har-stick is to be blunt at the end, and not armed mony in the jargon of the concert-room, and with a tiny spike, as in the latter case a shortapply to nature the hackneyed terms of art. In-sighted Lord Dundreary, with a large circle of stead of the simple unaffected, lady-acquaintances eager to speak to him might, on returning home to dress, find himself unpleasantly covered with scars and spots. On 66 'Hark, the lark at Heaven's gate sings," we shall be hearing some such stilted stuff as the whole there is more sense in this new con this: "Hark, the high soprano lark to Heaven's gate upward flies, And executes his brilliant fioriture in the skies." trivance than is usually to be found in the conceptions of the tyrant-milliner.-Punch. The boshiness of ballad-writing long since has A SMOOTH WAY OF GETTING OUT OF IT. disgusted us; and nonsense such as this would-A poet, who is prematurely bald, excuses it be really scarce more silly than much of the fine language we have lately seen in verse. -Punch. in this ingenious and complimentary manner: "Baldness," he says, "is only a proof of politeness paid to the beautiful sex. Is it not the duty of a gentleman always to uncover his head in the presence of the ladies ?"-Punch. HOW TO SEE THE EXHIBITION IN TEN MINUTES. "The Albany.-My dear Punch: I hate sensations, and I hate most of my fellowcreatures, and I hate trouble of all kinds. If FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES.-So an amnesty there are any other folks who entertain similar is granted to Garibaldi. Very good. In Eng feelings, I think they will be as grateful to me- land when we have trodden on the toe of a great pooh, nobody is grateful-but I think they ought man, we beg his pardon. In Italy you pardon to say I have done them a civil thing in telling him when you have shot him in the ankle.them that I have made the discovery announced | Punch. No. 967.-13 December, 1862. CONTENTS. 1. Chronicles of Carlingford. Part 10, 2. The Water-Babies. Chap. 3. By Prof. Kingsley, Macmillan's Magazine, 3. The Supernatural, 4. Lady Diplomatists, 5. Specie Payments.-National Currency.-Sinking Fund, PAGA Blackwood's Magazine, 482 495 Edinburgh Review, 506 St. James's Magazine, 518 POETRY.-The Widow and Orphan's Friend, 517. The Beauty of Winter, 517. SHORT ARTICLES.-Expenditure of Silver in Photography, 494. Lady Physicians, 494. Cod Liver Oil for Fattening Cattle, 494. Turkey Braised, 505. A Swiss Soup, 505. Charade, 526. THE WAR POWERS OF THE PRESIDENT, and the Legislative Powers of Congress in Rela tion to Rebellion, Treason, and Slavery. By William Whiting. Boston: John L. Shorey. [From the vigor and clearness we have admired in a Speech of Mr. Whiting, we doubt not the ability with which this book is written, and commend it to our readers.] THE REBELLION RECORD: Part 24. Edited by Frank Moore, and published by G. P. Putnam, New York. This part contains portraits of Gen. Mitchel and the rebel Gen. Robert Lee. A stern expression is on Gen. Mitchel's face, instead of the bright smile which dwelt upon it when he was lecturing upon the peaceful stars. THE SIEGE OF RICHMOND: a Narrative of the Military Operations of Major-Gen. Geo. McClellan in May and June, 1862. By Joel Cook, Special Correspondent of the Philadelphia Press. Philadelphia: George W. Childs. PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY LITTELL, SON, & CO., BOSTON. For Six Dollars a year, in advance, remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctually forwarded free of postage. Complete sets of the First Series, in thirty-six volumes, and of the Second Series, in twenty volumes, handsomely bound, packed in neat boxes, and delivered in all the principal cities, free of expense of freight, are for sale at two dollars a volume. ANY VOLUME may be had separately, at two dollars, bound, or a dollar and a half in numbers. ANY NUMBER may be had for 13 cents; and it is well worth while for subscribers or purchasers to complete any broken volumes they may have, and thus greatly enhance their value. PART X.-CHAPTER XXXII. "You!" she cried, with a shrill tone of ter The sight of her had roused Vincent. "You were going to escape," he said. "Do you forget your word? Must I tell her everything, or must I place you in surer custody? You have broken your word." "My word! I did not give you my word," she cried, eagerly. "No. I-I never said — and," after a pause, "if I had said it, how do you imagine I was going to escape P Escape! from what? That is the worst not nearly enough. How do you think I can keep still when nobody sends me any news? How long is it since I saw you last? And I have heard nothing since then-not a syllable! and you expect me to sit still, because I have given my word? Besides," after another breathless pause, and another gleam of self-recovery, "the laws of honor don't extend to women. We are weak, and we are allowed to lie." BUT while Mrs. Vincent sat in Susan's ror and confusion in her voice, "I did not sick-room, with her mind full of troubled look for you!" It was all her quivering thoughts, painfully following her son into lips would say. an imaginary and unequal conflict with the wife of the rebellious deacon; and while the Salem congregation in general occupied itself with conjectures how this internal division could be healed, and what the pastor would do, the pastor himself was doing the very last thing he ought to have done in the circumstances-lingering down Grange Lane in the broad daylight with intent to pass Lady Western's door-that door from which he had himself emerged a very few minutes one cannot escape," said the miserable before. Why did he turn back and loiter woman, speaking as if by an uncontrollable again along that unprofitable way? He did impulse, "never more; especially if one not venture to ask himself the question; he keeps quiet in one place and has nothing to only did it in an utterly unreasonable access do," she continued after a pause, recovering of jealousy and rage. If he had been Lady herself by strange gleams now and then for Western's accepted lover instead of the hope- a moment; "that is why I came out, to esless worshipper afar off of that bright unat-cape, as you say, for half an hour, Mr. Vintainable creature, he could still have had no cent. Besides, I don't have news enough— possible right to forbid the entrance of Mr. Fordham at that garden gate. He went back with a mad, unreasoning impulse, only excusable in consideration of the excited state of mind into which so many past events had concurred to throw him. But the door opened again as he passed it. Instinctively Vincent stood still, without knowing why. It was not Mr. Fordham who came out. It was a stealthy figure, which made a tremulous pause at sight of him, and, uttering a cry of dismay, fixed eyes which still gleamed, but had lost all their steadiness, upon his face. Vincent felt that he would not have recognized her anywhere but at this door. Her thin lips, which had once closed so firmly, and expressed with such distinctness the flying shades of amusement and ridicule, "We agreed that I was to stay with Alice," hung apart loosely, with a perpetual quiver she said. "You forget I am staying with of hidden emotion. Her face, always dark Alice; she-she keeps me safe, you know. and colorless, yet bearing such an unmistak- Ah! people change so; I am sometimes— able tone of vigor and strength, was haggard and ghastly; her once assured and steady step furtive and trembling. She gave him an appalled look, and uttered a little cry. She shivered as she looked at him, making desperate vain efforts to recover her composure and conceal the agitation into which his sudden appearance had thrown her. But nature at last had triumphed over this woman who had defied her so long. She had not strength left to accomplish the cheat. "You are speaking wildly," said Vincent, with some compassion and some horror, putting his hand on her arm to guide her back to the house. Mrs. Hilyard gave a slight convulsive start, drew away from his touch, and gazed upon him with an agony of fright and terror in her eyes. half afraid-of Alice, Mr. Vincent. My child is like her-my child-she did not know me!" cried the wretched woman, with a sob that came out of the depths of her heart; "after all that happened, she did not know me! To be sure, that was quite natural," she went on again, once more recovering her balance for an instant, "she could not know me! and I am not beautiful, like Lady Western, to please a child's eye. Beauty is good-very good. I was once |