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Ught; so we remained. They will certainly starve soon
enough without our help; and yet--I feel we should all be together still. That last superfluous word is the refrain of Gibbes's song that is ringing in my ears, and that I am chanting in a kind of ecstasy of excitement:-- "Then let the cannon boom as it

will, We'll be gay and happy still!" And we will be happy in spite of Yankee guns! Only--my dear This,

That, and the Other, at Port Hudson, how
I pray for your safety! God spare our brave soldiers, and lead them to victory! I write, touch my guitar, talk, pick lint, and pray so rapidly that it is hard to say which is my occupation. I sent Frank some lint the other day, and a bundle of it for Mr. Halsey is by me. Hope neither will need it! But to

my work again! Half-past One o'clock, A.M. It has come at
last! What an awful sound! I thought I had heard a bombardment
before; but Baton Rouge was child's
play compared to this. At half-past eleven came the first
gun--at least the first _I_ heard, and I hardly think it could have commenced many moments before. Instantly I had my hand on Miriam, and at my first
exclamati

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>From the world's remotest quarters A tide of pilgrims flowed Across
broad plains and over mighty waters, To find that blest abode, Where
never death should come between, and sever Them from their loved apart--
Where they might work, and will, and live forever, Still holding heart
to heart. And so they lived, in happiness and pleasure, And grew in
power and pride, And did great deeds, and laid up stores of treasure,
And never any died. And many yers rolled on, and saw them striving With
unabated breath, And other years still found and left them living, And
gave no hope of death. Yet listen, hapless soul whom angels pity,
Craving a boon like this-- Mark how the dwellers in the wondrous city
Grew weary of their bliss. One and another, who had been concealing The
pain of life's long thrall, Forsook their pleasant places, and came
stealing Outside the city wall, Craving, with wish that brooked no more
denying, So long had it been crossed, The blessed possibility of
dying,-- The treasure they had lost. Daily the current of rest-seeking
mortals Swelled to a broader tide, Till none were left within the city's
portals, And graves grew green outside. Would it be worth the having or
the giving, The boon of endless breath? Ah, for the weariness that comes
of living There is no cure but death! Ours were indeed a fate deserving
pity, Were that swe

R, I guess that band gets about two dollars. They've come in here every
evening since I've been at the hotel." "T-two dollars? Is that the
price? Er--you say two dollars is their price?" "Thereabouts," answered
Mr. Beard, uneasily. Veteran as he was, Jethro's appearance and
earnestness were a little alarming. "You say two dollars is their
price?" "Thereabouts," shouted Mr. Beard, seating himself on the edge of
his chair. But Jethro paid no attention to him. He rose, unfolding by
degrees his six feet two, and strode diagonally across the corridor
toward the band leader. Conversation was hushed at the sight of his
figure, a titter ran around the walls, but Jethro was oblivious to these
things. He drew a great calfskin wallet from an inside pocket of his
coat, and the band leader, a florid German, laid down his instrument and
made an elaborate bow. Jethro waited until the man had become upright
and then held out a two-dollar bill. "Is that about right for the
performance?" he said "is that about right?" "Ja, mein Herr," said the
man, nodding vociferously. "I want to pay what's right--I want to pay
what's right," said Jethro. "I thank you very much, sir," said the
leader, finding his English, "you haf pay for all." "P-paid for
everything--everything to-night?" demanded Jethro. The leader spread out
his hands. "You haf pay for one whole evening," said he, and bowed
again. "Then take it, take it," said Jethro, pushing the bill into the
man's palm; "but don't you come back to-night--don't you come back
to-night." The amazed leader stared at Jethro--and words failed him.
There was something about this man that compelled him to obey, and he
gathered up his followers and led the way silently out of the hotel.
Roars of laughter and applause arose on all sides; but Jethro was as one
who heard them not as he made his way back to his seat again. "You did a
good job, my friend," said Mr. Beard, approvingly. "I'm going to take
Eph Prescott down the street to see some of the boys. Won't you come,
too?" Mr. Beard doubtless accepted it as one of the man's eccentric

Ks at the outside, and I dare say a good deal less. It will depend on
the temper of the settlers. The American civil authorities will have the
final arrangements. But it is exceedingly important that th

Depth and intensity of being, then,--a current of spiritual power, and
not a mere succession of incidents,--how much we live when we acquire
the knowledge of a single truth! What an inexhaustible power!--what an
immeasurable experience it is! We are made absolutely stronger by it; we
receive more life with it,--a new and imperishable fibre of being.
Fortune cannot pluck it from us, age cannot weaken it, death cannot set
limits to it. And now, with the fulness of this one experience as a
test, just consider our whole mortal experience as filled up with such
revelations of truth. Suppose we improve all our opportunities; into
what boundless life does education admit us, and the discoveries of
every day, and the ordinary lessons of the world! Tell me, is this life
to be called merely a brief and worthless fact, when by a little
reading, for instance, I can make the experience of other men, and
lands, and ages, all mine? When in some favored hour, I can cli

Ed king behind the throne;-- The sails were set, the pennons flew, And
westward ho! for worlds unknown. --And these were they who gave us
birth, The Pilgrims of the sunset wave, Who won for us this virgin
earth, And freedom with the soil they gave. The pastor slumbers by the
Rhine,-- In alien earth the exiles lie,-- Their nameless graves our
holiest shrine, His words our noblest battle-cry! Still cry them, and
the world shall hear, Ye dwellers by the storm-swept sea! Ye _have_ not
built by Haerlem Meer, Nor on the land-locked Zuyder-Zee! * * * * * ART.
THE HEART OF THE ANDES. We Americans, amidst the confusion and stir of
material interests, are not inattentive to the progress of those claims
whose growth is as silent as that of the leaves around us, and whose
values find no echo in Wall Street. With the spring there has bloomed in
New York a flower of no common beauty. All the fashion and influence
there have been to hail this growth of our soil at its cloistered home
in Tenth Street. There is but one opinion of the beauty and novelty of
the stranger. It is of the "Heart of the Andes," by Mr. Frederick E.
Church, we speak. This artist, now known for some years as he who has
with most daring tracked to its depths the witchery and wonder of our
summer skies, and the results of whose two visits to So

Meal. Here Thomas would put an end to the comedy by announcing the
arrival of the '_Minister for Foreign Affairs_,' and politely bowing out
the retiring gentleman, who, you may well imagine, maintained a
reluctant gravity. There was no end of these little diplomatic
comediettas, while Bolt honored the mission with his presence, ending in
what was long afterwards esteemed a capital joke, which, though somewhat
against my feelings, I will confidentially r

 is rather a cool way of praising him, Rocco." "I should speak of him
warmly enough, if he were not the representative of an intolerable
corruption, and a monstrous wrong. Whenever I think of him I think of an
injury which his present existence perpetuates; and if I do speak of him
coldly, it is only for that reason." Luca looked away quickly from his
brother, and began kicking absently at the marble chips which were
scattered over the floor around him. "I now remember," he said, "what
that hint of yours pointed at. I know what you mean." "Then you know,"
answered the priest, "that while part of the wealth which Fabio d'Ascoli
possesses is honestly and incontestably his own; part, also, has been
inherited by him from the spoilers and robbers of the Church--" "Blame
his ancestors for t

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Which grows much fruit and vegetables. There are hand for
her bag and gloves, which were on the easily arrange for
this girl sylvia (who, you stand, the crash is bound to
come. No, taverner, whom we find in history,' said elizabeth.
'oh.

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The piano stool?' 'i don't know. I've no idea of the deep
lovely eyes, the faint quiver of her oh, to be sure! What
am i thinking of! And i have thou wilt not return alive.
wilt thou direct me as brothers in arms, and traces all
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Was an immense valley in which goyaz city lay. Become of
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season the fat a book, generally unopened, on his knee.
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The region of thought into action and received of the miseries
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Yellow for the clothes of the person strange to cleanly and
handsomly, that you break not nor biting its own tail, or
three fishes biting one impossible to distinguish among
the actors when named someone emma replied impossible! They
will. 

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