Extracts.

Lyttelton Times, Volume VIII, Issue 530, 2 December 1857, Page 3

Extracts.

the wb^:bi^ of MOTHER SEAOOLE. The! adventures of Mother Seacole,* a name Mown and- almost venerated'bjr the returned heroes from the Crimea, -officers and men, form a chapter of no slight interest in the history of the Crimean war. Her earlier life' appears to have been just such an one as best calculated to form and mould her to the experiences of her later years,—experiences that have stamped her as a prominent figure in that movingl panorama before Sebastopol. The daughter of a Creole doctress in Kingston in the island Jamaica, she studied, while yet a child, the science of medicine and the divine art of nursing, her Idoll in all cases being her quiescent patient. Grown to woman's estate, she had sterner experience when' the cholera swept over that island, which she left soon: afterfor Crjices, Panama where a brother kept an hotel. The shifting scenes of life here were picturesque to a degree. ■' One^ remarkable fact strikes her in connexion'with this out-landish, cutthroat place, where desperadoes halt on their way to and from California. She finds here, as everywhere else^ those two übiquitous specimens of ,the '[''genus homo, porters and lawyers, and makes a mem. thereon. ... As: exhibiting -• samples- of the kind of people found at Panama, and the sort of life led there, we give the following paragraphs:— > v - ■ - LOLA^MONTES AT PANAMA. Occasionally some distinguished passengers passed on the upward and downward tides of rascality and ruffianism, that swept periodically.'through Cruces. Came one day, Lola Montes, .in. the: full zenith of her, evii.famey bound for; California, with a strange :^uite.r A goodJooking; bold: wornan;with; fine, :bad eyesi,,and a determiried atsg7 ;dressed 'jpsteiitatiously in perfect male attire, with shirt collar tmiied down ■?• Wonderful adventures :of Mxs. . Seacole in many l^rids. Edited by W.J. S. With :an introductory, preface .by W. H.> Russell, Esq., The 'Times-Correspondent in the;Gritoea. London: James Blaick-wood, Paternoster Eow.

over a velvet lapelled coat, richly worked shirt front, black hat, French unmentionables, and natty, polished boots with spurs. She earned ln her hand a handsome ridingwhip^ which she could use as well in the streets of Cruses as in the towns of Europe • tor an impertinent American, presuming— perhaps not unnaturally—upon her reputation, kid hold jestingly of the tails of her long- coat, and, as~a lesson, received a cut across his face that must have marked him for some days. I did not wait to see the row that followed, and was glad when the wretched woman rode off on the following A very different notor *T- I? er at some interv»l of time —-Miss Catherine Hayes, on her succestul singing tour, who disappointed us all by refusing to sing at Cruces; and after her came an English Bishop from Australia, who need have been a member of the church militant to secure his pretty wife from the host of admirers she had gamed during her day's journey from Panama. PANAMA JUSTICE. I generally avoided claiming the protection of the law whilst on the Isthmus, for I found it was—as is the case in civilized England from other causes—rather an expensive luxury. Once only I took a thief caught in the act before the alcade, and claimed the administration of justice. The court-house was a low bamboo-shed, before which some dirty Spanish-Indian soldiers were lounging; and, inside the alcade, a negro was reclining in a hammock, smoking coolly, hearing evidence, and pronouncing judgment upon the wretched culprits, who were trembling before his dusky majesty. I had attended him while suffering from an attack of cholera, and directly he saw me he rose from his hammock, and received me in a ceremonious, grand manner, and gave orders that coffee should be brought to me. He had a very pretty white wife, who joined us; and then the alcade politely offered me & cigaretto —having declined which, he listened to my statement with great attention. All this, however, did not prevent my leaving the necessary fee in furtherance of justice, nor his accepting it. Its consequence was, that the thief, instead of being- punished as a criminal, was ordered to pay me the value of the stolen goods, which, after some weeks of hesitation and delay, she eventually did, in pearls, combs, and other ' curiosities. Whenever an American was arrested by the New Granada authorities, justice had a hard struggle for the mastery, and rarely obtained it. Once I was present at the court-house, when an American was brought in heavily ironed, charged with having committed a highway robbery —if I may use the term where there were no roads—on some travellers from Chiii. Around the frightened soldiers swelled an angry crowd of brother Americans, abusing and threatening- the authorities in no measured terms, all of them indignant that a nigger should presume to judge one of their countrymen. At last their violence so roused the sleepy alcade, that he positively threw himself from his hammock, laid down his cigaretto, and gave such very determined orders to his soldiers that he succeeded in checking the riot. Then, with an air of decision that puzzled everybody, he addressed the crowd, declaring angrily, that, since the Americans came, the country had known no peace, that robberies and crimes of every sort had increased, and ending by expressing his determination to make strangers respect the laws of the Republic, and retain the prisoner, and, if found guilty, punish him as he deserved. The Americans seemed too astonished at the audacity of the black man, who dared thus to beard them, to offer any resistance; but I believe that the prisoner was allowed ultimately to escape. While at Panama, war breaks out between England and Russia, and Mother Seacole, after l'emaining at her hotel duties some time is unable to resist the desire inherent in her good nature, to go to the Crimea for the purpose of discharging those kindly offices, in waiting upon the sick and wounded soldiers, to which she feels herself equal. She proceeds to Jamaica, and thence to. London, where she besieges the various forts of official inactivity, the occupants of which she finds herself unable to influence. They are astonished at the persistency of the "yaller woman/ but do nothing to advance her petitions. The same result follows an application to the lady conservators of the Crimean fund for forwarding hospital 'nurses to Scutari; and she at length bravely determines to go out of her own independent will, and establish an Hotel and store similar to one once favourably

known to the soldiery under her management in Jamaica. In this enterprise she is joined by an old friend, Mr. Day. She sails for Scutari, where she visits the hospital and sees Miss Nightingale. Thence she goes to Balaklava, and, after a world of difficulty, establishes Mother Seacole's British Hotel. A glimpse at her trials, her work, and the harrowing scenes she witnessed, is furnished by the following batch of quotations : — THE SICK WHARF AT BALAKLAVA. The very first day that I approached the I wharf a party of sick and wounded had just arrived. Here was work for me I felt sure. With so many patients, the doctors must be glad with all the hands they could get. Indeed, so strong was the old impulse within me that I waited for no permission, but, seeing a poor artilleryman stretched upon a pallet; groaning heavily, I ran up to him at once, and eased the stiff dressing. Lightly my practiced fingers ran over the familiar work, and well was I rewarded when the the poor fellows' groans subsided into a restless uneasy mutter. God help him ! He had been hit in the forehead, and I think his sight was gone. I stooped down and raised some tea to his baked lips (here and there upon the wharf were rows of little pannikins containing this beverage). Then his hand touched mine and rested there, and I heard him mutter indistinctly, as though the discovery had arrested his wandering senses—" Ha ! this is surely a woman's hand." I couldn't say much, but I tried to whisper something about hope, and trust in God; but all the while I think his thoughts were running on this strange discovery. Perhaps I had brought to his poor mind memories of his home and the loving ones there, who would ask no greater favour than the privilege of helping him thus:—for he continued to hold my hand in his feeble grasp, and whisper, " God bless you, woman—whoever you are, God bless you !" over and over again. Ido not think that the surgeons noticed me at first, although as this was my introduction to Balaklava, I had not neglected my personal appearance, and wore my favourite yellow dress and blue bonnet, with the red ribbons; but I noticed one coming to me, who, I think, would have laughed very merrily had it not been for. the poor fellow at my feet. As it was, he came forward and shook hands veryv-kindly, saying, "How do you do ma'am ? Much obliged to you for looking' after my poor fellow; very glad to see you here." And glad they always were, the kind-hearted doctors, to let me help them look after the sick and wounded sufferers brought to that fearful wharf. I wonder if I can ever forget the scenes I witnessed there ? .0 ! they were heartrending*. I declare that I saw roughbearded men stand by and cry like the softest-hearted woman at the sights of suffering they saw; while some who scorned comfort -for themselves would fidget about for hours before the long train of mules and ambulances came in, nervous lest the most trifling thing that could minister to the sufferer's comfort should be neglected. I have often heard men talk and preach very learnedly and conclusively about the great wickedness and selfishness of the human, heart; I used to wonder whether they would have modified those opinions if they had been my companions for one day of the six weeks I spent upon that wharf, and seen but one day's experience of the Christian sympathy and brotherly love shown by the strong to the weak. The task was a trying one, and familiarity, you might think, would have worn down their keener feelings of pity and sympathy; but it was not so. I was in the midst of my sad work one day when the Admiral (Boxer) came up, and stood looking on. He vouchsafed no word nor look of recognition in answer to my salute, but stood silently by, his hands behind his back, watching the sick beinglifted into the boats. You might have thought that he had little feeling, so stern and expressionless was his face; but once, when they raised a sufferer somewhat awkwardly, and he groaned deeply, that rough man broke out all at once with an oath, that was strangely like a prayer, and bade the men, for God's sake, take more care. And, coming up to me, he clapped me on the shoulder, saying, "lam glad to see you here, old lady, among these poor fellows;" while I am most strangely deceived if I did not s|e a tear-drop gathering in his eye. It was on this same day, I think, that, bending down over a poor fellow whose senses had quite gone, and, I fear me, would never return to him in this world, he took me for his wife, and calling me "Mary, Mary," many times, asked me

how it was he had got home so quickly, and why he did not see the children; and said he felt sure he should soon get better now. Poor fellow! I could not undeceive him. I think the fancy happily caused by the touch of a woman's hand soothed his dying hour; for I do not fancy he could have lived to reach Scutari. I never knew it for certain, but I always felt sure that he would never wake from that dream of home in this world. . . ■. But it must not be supposed that we had no cheerful scenes upon the sick wharf. Sometimes a light-hearted fellow—generally a sailor—would forget his pain, and do his best to keep the rest in good spirits. Once I heard my name eagerly pronounced, and turning round, recognised a sailor whom I remembered as one of the crew of the Alarm, stationed at Kingston a few years back. " Why, as I live, if this ain't - Aunty Seacole, of Jamaica ! Shiver all that's left of my poor timbers," —and I saw that the left leg was gone—"lf this ain't a rum go mates !" " Ah! my man, I'm sorry to see you in this sad plight." " Never fear for me, Aunty Seacole; I'll make the best of the leg the Rooshians have left me. I'll get at them soon again, never fear. • You don't think, messmates," —he never left his wounded comrades alone—"that they'll think less of us at home for coming back with a limb or so short ?" " You bear your troubles well, my son." "Eh! do I, Aunty?" and he seemed siu'prised. " Why, lookye, when I've seen so many pretty fellows knocked off the ship's roil altogether, don't you think I ought to be thankful if I can answer the bo'swain's call anyhow?" And this was the sailors' philosophy always. And this brave fellow, after he had sipped some lemonade, and. laid down, when he heard the men groaning, raised his head and comforted them in the same strain again; and, it may seem strange, but it quieted them. MRS. SEACOLE'S CRIMEAN HOTEL. Let me, in a few words, describe the British Hotel. It was acknowledged by all to be the most complete thing there. It cost no less than £800. The buildings and yards took up at least an acre of ground, and were as perfect as we could make them. The hotel and store-house consisted of. a long iron room, with counters, closets, and shelves : ¥above it ?,was another low room, used by us for storing' our goods, and above this floated a , large union-jack. Attached to this building was a little kitchen, not unlike a ship's caboose —all stoves and shelves. In addition to the iron house were two wooden houses, with sleeping apartments for myself and Mr. Day, outhouses for our servants, a canteen for the soldiery, and a large enclosed yard for our stock, full of stables, low huts, and sites. Everything, although rough, and unpolished, was comfortable and warm; and there was a completeness about the whole which won general admiration. The reader may judge of the manner in which we had stocked the interior of our-store from the remark often repeated by the officers, that you might get everything at Mother Seacole's, from an anchor down to a needle. CRIMEAN RATS. Thieves, biped and quadruped, human and animal, troubled me more than ever ; and perhaps the most difficult to deal with were the least dangerous. The Crimean rats, for instance, who had the appetites of London aldermen, and were as little dainty as hungry schoolboys. Whether they had left Sebastopol, guided by the instinct which leads their kindred in other parts of the world to forsake sinking ships, or because the garrison rations offended their palates, or whether they had patriotically emigrated, to make war against the English larders, I do not pretend to guess; but, whatever was their motive, it drew them in great abundance to Spring-hill. They occasionally did us damage, in a single night, to the tune of two or three pounds—wasting what they could not devour. You could keep nothing sacred from their strong teeth. When hard pressed, they more then once attacked the live sheep; and at last they went so far as to nibble one of our black cooks, Francis, who slept among the floxir barrels. On the following morning he came to me, his eyes rolling angrily, and his white teeth gleaming-, to show me a mangled finger, which they had bitten, and ask me to dress it. He made a great fuss; and a few mornings later he came in a violent passion this time, and gave me instant notice to quit my service, although we were paying him £2 a-week with board and rations. This time the rats had, it appeared, been bolder, and attacked his head, in a

spot'where its natural armour^ the wool, was thinnest, and the silly fellow had a • notion that the souls of the slain Eussian soldiers had entered the rats and made vengeful war upon their late enemies. Driven to such an extremity, I made up my mind to scour the camp in search of a cat, and, after a long- day's hunt, I came to the conclusion that the tale of Whittington was by no means an improbable one. Indeed, had a brisk young fellow with a cat of even ordinary skill in its profession, made their appearance at Spring-hill, I would gladly have put them in the way— of laying the foundation at least—of a fortune. At last, I found' a benefactor, in the Guards' camp, in Colonel D- ,of the Coldstreams, who kindly promised me a great pet, well known in the camp, and perhaps by some who may read these pages, by the name of Pinkie. Pinkie was then helping a brother officer to clear his hut, but on the following day, a guardsman brought the noble fellow down. He lived in clover for a few days, but he had an English cat-like attachment for his old house, and despite the abundance of game, Pinkie soon stole away to his old master's quarters, three miles off. More than once the men brought him back to me, but the attractions of Spring-hill were never strong' enough to detain him long with me. POCKET-HANDKERCHIEFS AT A PREMIUM. An officer had ridden down one day to obtain refreshments (this was very early in the spring); some nice fowls had just been v taken from the spit, and I offered one to him. Paper was one of the most hardly obtained luxuries of the Crimea, and I rarely had any to waste upon my customers; so I called out, " Give me your pockethandkerchief, my son, so that I may wrap it up." Uou see we could not be very particular out there; but he smiled very bitterly as he answered, " Pocket-handker-chief, mother —by Jove! I wish I had one. I tore my last shirt into shreds a fortnight ago, and^ there's not a bit of it left now." Shortly after, a hundred dozen of those useful articles came to my store, and I sold them all to officers and men very speedily. A WORD FOR LORD RAGLAN. Within a week after General E -'s death, a still greater calamity happened. Lord Raglan died—that great soldier who had such iron courage with the gentle smile and kind word that always show the good man. I was familiar enough with his person; for, although people did not know it in England, he was continually in the saddle looking after his suffering men, and scheming plans for their benefit. And the humblest soldier will remember that, let who might look stern and distant, the first man in the BritislTArniy ever had a kind word to give him. During* the time he was ill I was at head-quarters several times, and once his servants allowed me to peep into the room where their master lay. Ido not think they knew he was dying, but they seemed very sad and low —far more so than he for whom they feared. And on the day of his funeral I was there again. I never saw such heartfelt gloom as that which brooded on the faces of his attendants; but it was good to hear how they all, even the humblest, had some kind memory of the great general whom Providence had called from his post at such a season of danger and distress. And once again they let me into the room in which the coffin lay, and I timidly stretched out my hand and touched a corner of the union-jack which lay upon it; and then I watched it wind its way through the long lines of soldiery towards Kaniieseh, while, ever and anon,' the guns thundered forth in sorrow, not in anger. And for days after I could not help thinking of the Caradoc, which was ploughing its way through the sunny sea with its sad burden. MRS. SEACOLE IN SEVASTOPOL. When I found that strict orders had been given to admit no one inside Sevastopol I became quite excited; and making my way to General Garrett's quarters, I made such an earnest representation of what I considered my right that I soon obtained a pass, of which the following is a CO py : —« Pass Mrs. Seacole and her- attendants, with refreshments for officers and soldiers in the Redan and in Sevastopol.— Garrett, M.G., Cathcart's-hill, September 9th, 1855." So many attached themselves to my staff, becoming for the nonce my attendants, that I had some difficulty at starting; but at last I passed all the sentries safely, much to the annoyance of many officers, who were trying every conceivable scheme to evade them, and entered the city. I can give you no very clear description of its condition on that Sunday morning, a year and a-half ago. Many parts of it were still blazing furi-

ously—explosions were taking* place in all directions—every step had a score of dangers; and yet, and excitement carried us on and on. -I was often stopped to give refreshments to officers and men who had been fasting1 for hours. : Some, on I the other hand, had found their wayto Russian cellars; ;and one body 'of .men were most ingloriously drunk, and playing ' the wildest pranks. They were dancing-, j yelling, and singing-—some of *hem with 1 Russian women's dresses fastened round, .their waists, and old bonnets stuck upon, •their heads. I was offered many'trophies. All plunder was stopped by the sentries .and confiscated, so that the soldiers.could -afford to be liberal. By one I was offered' ;& great velvet sofa ; another pressed a huge arm chair, which had graced some • -Sevastopol study, upon me; while a third Pegged my acceptance of a portion-of a. -grand piano. What I did carry away was ; very unimportant; a gaily-decorated altar : candle, studded with gold and silver stars,> which the present commander-in-chief con- ■: -descended to accept as a Sevastopol memo- j .■rial; an old cracked china teapot, which ian happier itimes had =very likely dispensed ■pleasure to "many a small tea party; a vcracked bell, which had run many to1 prayers during the siege, and which I bore: away on my saddle; and a parasol, given; me by a drunken soldier. He had a silk shirt on, and torn lace upon his wrists, and he came mineinglyup, holding the parasol his head, and imitating the walk of .an affected lady, to the -vociferous delight >of his comrades. And all this, and much more, in that fearful charnel city, with -death and suffering on every side.' "REDAN NO BONO." The French, when they wanted—it was very seldom—to wound the pride of the 'English soldiery, used to say significantly, in that jargon by which the various nations in the Crimea endeavoured to obviate the consequences of what occurred at the Tower of Babel, some time ago, v Malakiioff bono—Redan no bono." And this, of •course, usually led to recriminatory statements, and history was ransacked to find consolatory to English pride. Once I noticed a brawny man, of the Army -Works Corps, bringing- a small French .Zouave to my canteen, evidently with the view of standing- treat. The Frenchman seemed mischievously inclined, and, probably relying upon the good humour on the countenance of his gig-antic companion, began a little playful badinage, ending "with the taunt of " Redan, no bono—Re>dan, no bono." I never saw any man look so helplessly angry as the Englishman did. For a few minutes he seemed absolutely rooted to the ground. Of course he could Tiave crushed his mocking- friend with -ease, but how could he answer his taunt. All at once, however, a happy thought struck him, and rushing up to the Zouave, he caught him round the waist aud threw him down, roaring out, "Waterloo was •bono—Waterloo was bono." It was as much as the people on the premises could do to part them, so convulsed were all with daughter. In her noble devotion to the comfort of the British soldiers, to which eloquent tribute has been paid by Mr. W. H. Russell, ■*Times' Crimean correspondent, she lost much money and missed the opportunities which a more selfish and unscrupulous sutler would have seen the way to wealth. She came back to England poor in purse, but ennobled by the sympathy ; •rshe had created in the breasts of all who had an opportunity of forming the least motion of her great services. For those . services some public recognition is to be ; ■made, to which we trust onr readers will ■lend a cheerful assistance. The first step towards this will be the purchase of her book, after reading'which we Avill leave them to find the right way of directing their benevolence. '• •GERMAN PROGRESS IN NEW YORK. (From the New York Staats Zeitung.) The consideration of the importance •and value of the large body of Germans in this city and its neighbouring towns can oe estimated only by the activity and in-tellig-ence which these emigrants develop in their new homes. If they excel in arts, trade, commerce, or manufacturing-, then their accession must be accounted as beneficial. We are happily able to show that cur countrymen here fully realize all these conditions. Mechanical arts, such as tailors, cabinet-makers and shoemakers, are pursued by thousands of Germans, rivalling; tlis best London and Paris make, and their work is sold as such. In point of fact, the many large establishments in these trades could not be carried on with- • 'cut them. Many, if not most of the

houses, in the eastern portion of the city have been built hy German masons and carpenters, and the plumbing, and painting, glazing, and tin-roofing- executed by those who were brought up to the trade in their fatherland. The plans of some of our most stately edifices, from the finished elevation to the rough working- drawing1, come from the very well-known German architects in this city. The best practical furriers are Germans. The best surgical instrument makers are Germans. Many fancy articles, as well as the most difficult branches of enamelling jewellery, which buyers believe to be " imported," are the production of German artizans in this city. We meet with German grocers, bakers, and confectioners at every turn. Tiie German hotels are equal in all respects to the same establishments in American hands; and so throug-h the innumerable branches of trade, not forgetting " matches, and lager-bier," which give an honest living- to many worthy men. Very recently, a German invention, furnishing a substitute for whalebone, has been successfully put in operation in this city. This factory for "wollosine",employs nearly a hundred persons, and upwards of 75,000 dollars are invested as capital. We have a " German" dispensary, two societies of German physicians, numbers of German apothecaries, and a number of i analytical and manufacturing)chemists,who furnish a representation for the medical profession in all its branches. Twenty public places of worship and upwards of fifty schools speak for religion and education. The "German Society" is the benevolent institution. Ten book stores and five printing establishments contribute the works of the ancient classic and modern writers to the advancement of learning- in which the many pz^ofessors from Germany instruct this community. In the fine arts we need only point to the opera, the Dusseldorf Gallery, all the matinees and soirees mitsicales, to prove their almost exclusively German character. We give no names: that is unnecessary. We can also allude with satisfaction to the German pianoforte manufacturers. The histrionic muse has an altar at the theatre. The character of the German merchants in New York is proverbial.—Their bills of exchange are eagerly sought as remittances. During the last year the direct trade with Germany from this port employed in its marine a tonnage of upwards of 99,000 tons, numbering 152 arrivals, and 120 departures. There are six lines of packets and two lines of steamships. The number of seamen employed was 3,547. The valuation of this trade for the year was 13,193,284 dollars, ninety cents of direct imports, and 6,567,570 dollars of direct exports. The indirect trade may be assumed at a higher figure. The number of passengers arriving during the same time was 38,289. Take this j population and transplant it into a desert, and will they not constitute a perfectly civilized community ? This article cannot be sufficiently extended to give the fullest details. For the intelligence and reading capacity of these, more than one hundred thousand German inhabitants, let our parent with its 18,000 daily subscribers— let the other German daily, weekly, and monthly papers, bear conclusive testimony. A word about Bankers.—England is, and has always been, in the hands of her bankers—the" cleverest men in the kingdom—Francis Child,, the banking goldsmith, and there was "jingling Georgie," old Herriot, who founded the hospital at Edinburgh, and a string of illustrious names. Thomas Coutts died in 1822 (one year after Napoleon), at eighty-seven. At one time he was the banker of George 111. His fortune of £4,500,000 from his wife passed te his granddaughter. Miss Burdett Coutts the owner of the bank of Coutts & Co., managed by trustees. Then there was Strahan, Paul, and Co., established in the seventeenth century, one of the first and most respectable of the old bankers. Their ' successors, as you are aware, have been transported for fraud and perjury. Jones, Lloyd, and Co. were once great names, and are still. Mr. Lloyd, the dissenting minister, became the banker, whose offspring became a peer, the present Lord Overstone. This was the firm that introduced the phrase (not the practice) known among bill-drawers of "pork or bacon!" Barings have done their share in holding high the banker's reputation. "Who rules the banking world?" asked Lord Byron in Bon Juan. " Jew Rothschild and his fel-low-Christian Baring ?" When the learned student, Meyer Anselm, died at Frankfort, in 1812, his parting advice to his five sons was to hang together. He knew the

power of association. In 1808, Nathan Meyer Rothschild settled in Manchester. From buttons he went to banking. He managed investments so well as to gain the entire patronage^of the German princes, and since then the house of Rothschild has become the friend of despotic kings. He was really a great man. He not only introduced the payment of dividends on foreign loans into England, but he arranged them to be paid in sterling*. He loaned European powers, established rates of exchange on any part of the world, moved biillion and merchandise to suit his wishes, founded houses in the chief continental cities, sexit agents to every commercial port, always received the latest intelligence, and such was his retentive memory he never carried a note-book! On Tuesdays and Fri days you would always find him at "Rothschild Pillar" on the Stock Exchange. A broker by the name of Rose was the only man who was bold enough to occupy the stand of the Money King, and he disputed the right but an hour. He wrote a miserable hand. A Montrose banker once ' made him wait a week in Scotland, that he might see if his cheque was cashed in London. On the 28th July, 1836, a carrier pigeon brought to London from Frankfort this, simple dispatch.—" He v dead." The brothers Rothschild have shown, in their success, the power of association. Their sons will take their place, and, with proper management, they may hold their honors another generation. — Hiintfs (New York) MercJmnts' Magazine. A Grocer's Romance. —At one of the Duke's great battles a message required te be sent to the second in command. All the aides-de-camp were killed or wounded, or away on separate missions. The interval between the divisions was swept with shot and shell, and yet the order must be conveyed, or the fate of the combat might change. There was a man dressed in the garb of a commercial traveller, mounted on a good stout roadster, who had come out to collect moneys due to his employers from the officers in the Peninsula army, and had apparently thought the sight of a bloody battle would be an agreeable diversion in the midst of his labours. The Duke rode up to him, and asked him to go with the message. The man agreed ; but being devoted to business habits, he said " You must give mean. authority in writing, or the General won't believe what I say!" Wellington wrote tlie order; and—at a good steady trot, as if he had been anxious to get into the city before the clock struck ten—the extempore aide-de-camp, rising in his stirrups and holding out both his elbows in the manner of Fulham and Muswell Hill, looking neither to the left nor right, crossed the fatal space, over which flew an iron shower which sent the mud flying in all directions, arrived at his destination, and in a minute or two saw the result of his communication in a sudden rush forward of the whole line, dreadful shouts, and waving of fiery swords. Presently he heard, by the shouts and hurrahs, that a great victory had been achieved by the British arms! This prosaic, steady, four-teen-stone man, who took everything as a matter-of-course, was witness to the meeting of two hostile armies, and greatly contributed to the glorious consummation.— Dickens's Household Words. Shipwreck op the "Duroc."—The great lions of the haute soeiete are Madame Laverssiere de Lavergne. and her little daughter Rosita, whose tremendous shipwreck on the island of New Caledonia in the Duroc has filled us with such intense interest. The child is four years old, and was borne in the arms of her intrepid mother during twenty-eight hours of hunger and peril, in a poor rough-hewed bark constructed from the spars drifted on shore, remnants of the wrecked Duroc. There is no such thing as fiction. The wreck of the Golden Mary was enacting at the very time that Dickens was writing his imaginary account of his child Lucy and her fellow sufferers. The same charm, the same interest to the worn-out crew, was the little Rosita in the wretched bark ; the same superstitious faith attended on every prattling word she uttered; and when, in the midst of their despair, these four-and-thirty rough strong, world-worn men begged the little silver cross which the child wore round her neck to hang at the stern, and thus insure the protection of Heaven for the crazy planks to which they had been forced to trust their safety, and the child consented on condition that they would give it back as soon as ever they got to land j a loud cry of triumph arose in the midst of the silent ocean, and hope and trust returned in hearts where despair . and agony had already found a home

The words are regarded as the inspiration of Divine mercy—the whispering" of the angels to the miserable crew struggling" for life beneath that stormy sky. And they were prophetic —"Those words uttered in the lisping accents of Rosita, saved oiir thirty human lives," said Captain Lavei'gne, before the commission just appointed to sit in judgment on his conduct; " the crew was sinking fast—some wished indeed to die—when that simple and unconscious summons to live and hope fell upon their misery like healing balm," Rosita did get back her silver cross, and wears it with pride and joy j but cannot imagine why everybody in Paris wishes to see and touch it, and why so many people have shed great big* round tears upon her hands when she has held it up at their request for them to kiss.— Paris Correspondent of the Court Journal. I have found that the men who are really the most fond of the ladies—who cherish for them the highest respect, —are seldom the most popular with the sex. Men of great assurance—whose tongues are lightly hung—who make words supply the place of ideas, and place compliment in the loom of sentiment—rare their favourites. A due respect for women leads to respectful action towards them j and respect is mistaken by them for neglect or want of love.— Addison.