excitement; scarce knowing how we were spirited there through the crowd and confusion of the street below. What a madly frolicsome throng was that! What grotesque figures clad in all sorts of fantastic costume How the air rang with the incessant shouts and laughter of the countless multitude! Bouquets and bonbons were flying in every direction, while the merry combatants in this harmless battle half enveloped in the clouds of dust raised by these mock sugar plums whose composition is simple plaster of Paris-rode up and down the street or gathered on the pave partially protected from the surrounding storm by wire masks and fanciful overgarments; meanwhile plying the mimic battle vigorously amidst shouts of laughter, and a discordant clang of instruments, and confused babbling of voices quite distracting it was to us, yet exceedingly amusing from the hearty good will in which every one appeared to join in these really childish sports. If it takes as little as this to make a populace merry thought we, while overlooking the scene, surely they ought to be a very happy people! But the deep current of unrest is surging sullenly beneath this sparkling surface. Mere festal scenes whose principal attraction comes from the associations of a ime-honored custom-have not the power of cheating the Roman people into the beef that they are happy while chafing under a sense of slavery to papal power and priestly tyranny, backed by the aid of foreign arms! - of a general insurrection which might occur at any moment, if Napoleon concluded to withdraw the French soldiers from Rome. Considering therefore the presence of the French soldiery as an indignity heaped upon them, the higher classes refused to join the crowd at their wonted place of gathering upon the Corso, but leaving the scene of amusement to the medium and common classes, and the many strangers who are usually present in large numbers, they withdraw to the vicinity of Port Pia (one of the city gates) and there kept the closing fete of the Carnival. After hours of this sort of confusion and merry making just described, the crowd of carriages were withdrawn from the street, and according to the old custom came the less harmless sport of setting several horses loose, to race through the length of the Corso, their speed greatly accelerated by the fright, caused by bits of tin foil fastened to their bodies, the jingle and sharp hits of which, made the poor animals nearly frantic. The whole farce ending with the childish sport of lighted tapers, each one trying to blow out that held by his neighbor. Wearied by the confusion of the day, we gladly retired - leaving the crowd in the full career of this closing ceremony. Thus ended the Carnival, that extreme of crazy mirth, treading on the heels of its opposite- the rigid observance of Lentan fast!-a sort of blowing out of the animal spirits sufficient to insure good behavior during the ensuing days of humiliation. Upon the present occasion as was subsequently learned- there was a deep dis- We noticed some fine specimens of content which had boiled into fierce re-healthful beauty among the women from sentment among the old Roman families the country, present at this gathering; their - when this annual fester, had been put native charms being heightened by the under military surveillance by order of the picturesque costume of the bright colored authorities, lest some popular outbreak kirtle, black boddice and full chemise, with might occur at this particular time, a profusion of silver ornaments; fashdisaster, which those ecclesiastical func- ions which have been retained for centutionaries constantly feared from the state ries, and are always graceful and becoming of dissatisfaction known to exist among a to the peculiar style of Roman beauty. large portion of the citizens. a In fact so impending seemed the danger during the then existing state of things, that we were told by the American Consul that several of the priests of the city had desired the protection of his roof in case Lilfreds Rest. M. C. G. Christianity has made martyrdom sublime, and sorrow triumphant, LESSONS OF AUTUMN. BY REV. J. S. BARRY. Changing seasons are among the emblems of the glory of God; and to note these as they rise and pass, is a grateful task to the dutiful soul. God has made everything beautiful in its time. The heavens above and the earth beneath are full of beauty. And spiritual improvement as well as enjoyment flows from the perception and love of this beauty. Yet how true it is, that we lose these advantages through inattention, and live in contact every day with that which should elevate and gladden the soul, with scarce a thought of the presence of the angel, sent to bear us up to heaven. If we felt as we should, every season would be beautiful to the soul. Yet to many autumn is less beautiful than summer, because of its lack of genial warmth; and sighing winds and melting leaves are, to them, mournful emblems of material decay. Hence it is that a gentle melancholy pervades their being, and a species of restlessness seizes upon them. But autumn is beautiful in spite of all this; and if we will open our eyes, we shall see this beauty. True, the contrast is great in the appearance of nature now and at midsummer. Then, every garden was filled with flowers. The valleys and hills were covered with foliage. And the blue skies which bent above us, seemed like a mirror of polished azulite. Every gale wafted fragrance; forms of beauty delighted the soul; and the heart was full of pleasing emotions. Now, how changed! The footsteps of autumn have stolen upon us, as silently and noiselessly as time moves on, sprinkling grey among our hairs; and we are surprised to find that what was so recently a gorgeous scene, is fast assuming the aspect of decay. It is natural, perhaps, that we should be saddened by these changes, reminding us as they do of the wasting and waning of our own mortal being, and of the rapid approach of the winter of death. But it is wrong to allow this sadness to depress us; for there is much even in autumn that is surpassingly beautiful. We must not look at its closing moments, but at its opening scenes. We must consider how gradually it came upon us, and even the blessings it brings in its train. We are too apt to dwell on the dark side of the picture, and forget that there are lights as well as shadows. Were the transition sudden from the warmth of summer to the frosts of winter, as is the case in the regions lying farther to the North, we might then speak of the fickleness of nature, — its wanton caprices. But autumn comes as an Indian summer, preparing the way for the snow and the ice. It is like a blooming mother, in the maturity of her powers, gathering around her lovely children, and reflecting upon them her own ripened charms. The verdure of spring is always beautiful. Every one recognizes, every one delights in it. There is a luxury, too, in the warmth of summer. But brighter is the glory of the crimson mantle which autumn puts on, as she goes forth to herald the coming of winter. It is more than a painting, this glowing sunset, bathing the forest with spiritual beauty, and reflecting the light on every spray. And the pen cilled clouds of the distant west, streaked with gold, as we gaze upon these, it seems as if the dreams of our childhood were coming back, and the fading hues of their earlier days are limned by the hands of a magical artist, in bolder strokes on hill and vale. The eye that sees this glowing pic ture can never forget it. The heart that appreciates beauty like this, can never distrust the goodness of God. The lessons of autumn are practical lessons; and well would it be were they heeded by all. The first is, that God is present in all we see, and has made his works to be remembered. But how few have learned this lesson ! Does the farmer think, as he hoards his heaps of golden grain, of the good God that gave him the harvest? Does the merchant, who goes to his home in the country, and in the still evening gazes abroad upon the outstretched landscape, feel his heart aglow with gratitude? Do we all feel that a good God watches over us, and loads us daily with innumerable blessings? It is in the power of each and every soul to make life happier than it is, by the constant recognition of the presence of God. Much depends on the state of our hearts how we look at the outward world. It may be to us a splendid mirror, shadowing forth the glory of God, or a dull, mechanical, common place thing. If we live on here in a dumb-show, wholly absorbed in wordly cares, we shall look in vain for heavenly joys. Fill the soul with the spirit of beauty; lift the heart up to God; call upon him every day; and you will see him then in the tints of the forest; the graceful forms which are all around you; and a light will be reflected on the soul within, which will lift it above its carking cares, and shed abroad divinest peace. Again: We must reflect upon nature, the sunshine of the heart, in order to perceive its spiritual significance. Emerson has said, and very truly, that "the lover of nature is he whose inward and outward senses are still truly adjusted to each other; who has retained the spirit of infancy even into the era of manhood. His intercourse with heaven and earth becomes part of his daily food. In the presence of nature, a wild delight runs through the man, in spite of real sorrows. Not the sun or the summer alone, but every hour and season yields its tribute of delight; for every hour and change corresponds to and authorises a different state of the mind, from breathless noon to grimmest midnight." And it is indeed so. Oh, it is a great thing to keep the heart thus alive! to hang the walls of the soul with pictures, upon which we gaze with increasing delight!-- while the glowing cheek and the melting eye tell of the rapture that reigns within. The love of the beautiful is implanted in all, and ours is the fault if we neglect it. There is enough in each season to fill us with joy, and refine and elevate and purify the soul. But if we persist in closing our eyes to this beauty, the taste will be dormant, and its joys will be lost. Lastly, autumn, with its ripened fruits, and indications of approaching winter, admonishes us that we, also, are to bring forth fruit unto eternal life. If the discipline we have passed through has not been lost on us, our characters have been forming, and ripening for heaven. And thus should it ever be with the Christian believer. He has had his spring time,-the first buddings of faith and hope. He has had his summer, when the tender shoots were rapidly growing; when the genial warmth of the " sun of righteousness,' shining upon him, brought into action all his powers, and stimulated effort by the promise of success. And if autumn has come, and come as it should, it will crown him with laurels of unfading beauty. The soul, through its discipline, has been gradually maturing; and as he looks abroad in the outward world, he sees mirrored there the Christian's work, and the words of the Saviour come home to him with a deeper meaning: "He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth h fruit. KEEPSAKES OF THE DEPARTED. The two friends, from whose private correspondence the following extracts are taken, early finished their earthly labors and entered the mansions of the heavenly home. Many years have they been missed and mourned; but they still speak cheering words to comfort the hearts of friends who fondly cherish their memory. Lovely were they in their lives, and in their deaths they were not long divided. "I am anticipating much comfort in arranging my flower garden in the spring, and I fancy I shall be very vain and proud when I can raise my own beautiful bouquets! I have a perfect passion for flowers in which respect I remind myself of my lost mother. I have often seen her talk to flowers and cry over them; and I never see a pretty flower garden but I faney my dear mother walking in it. "My mother lost several children, and she was often very sad though naturally and generally cheerful. When the former mood governed her, she sought the so'ciety of her flowers and of the birds. She often took us children with her, but if we were noisy or uneasy she sent us away. Oh, how well I now remember those bygone times; and I love to dwell upon their memory. It makes me a child again, however, and I shed bitter tears that I did no more to drive away my mother's sadness and loneliness." "On my return I found my little "Willie much more feeble than I had expected. He rallied, and for several days, was better; but the past week he has been failing, he lies in the cradle now nearly stupid. We are, if not alarmed, very, very anxious. How can I give him up. I am his constant watcher, and I thank God hourly that my own life and health are spared to take care of my little darling. Can you imagine how happy I am to tell you that I have not felt so strong in two years. Though we never meet again in this world, our friendship may still exist and be perfected in that brighter, purer sphere." "I do not anticipate the coming summer as I did a year ago, for my little pet lamb is lost; but I will try to forget my grief in making myself useful, though while I resolve, I shake my head and my eyes fill with tears. Do not blame me you do not know what it is to lose so dear a treasure but I know your warm heart can feel for others else I would not intrude such sacred feelings upon you. I am teaching music, and shall make it quite a profitable as well as a pleasant task. My only child is just nine years old to-day, she is my pupil too not only in music, but in all her studies. I think I can teach her easier than I can part with her morning, so I do not send her to school. My sisters do not spend the summer with me, so I am left quite lonely." every "I have wished to answer your excellent letter that I might receive another, but it has been utterly impossible till now. I write while my poor dying sister sleeps. You will sympathize with me. Oh I sometimes wish I, too could die: but I will not yield to such feelings, for I know it is wrong, and I thank God that he has preserved me to minister to, and comfort my sister. But oh my friend, tis hard to endure these dreadful trials and remain cheerful. It is sometimes almost hard to really say in our own hearts, "thy will O God, not mine be done." And yet he is the Father of our loved ones. He carries my little lamb in his bosom. Some writer has beautifully said, if our hearts are strung to the trials of life like the fine instrument, their tones will be inspiring but give them up to the influence of the world, and they are all sadness, like the harp of the wind on which the passing breeze makes what melody it will." Strengthened by piety our trials may and should result in our highest benefit. Since my Willie died I have been comforted, and the communion I hold with him in Heaven is sweeter than that on earth. Life was given him but a short time, but long enough to make him immortal, and we shall meet again in that world where there is neither pain nor death. one. "But my poor sister is not willing to die, and it almost breaks my heart to see her cling first to one hope, and then when that fails grasp another, or even a shadow of But I believe she will yet become reconciled and then my greatest trial with regard to her will be over. Still, when I feeble voice, and think how soon I shall look at her sweet face, and listen to her miss them, my heart swells till it almost chokes me, and I for strength to endure so great an affliction. Do write soon, your letter will be an oasis in the desert. Good night. God bless you." A. A. M. pray That was the last "good night," and "God bless you" from the hand and heart of dear Adeline. In a few months she, too, suddenly left the scenes of earth to join the loved in Heaven. Death was indeed to her but a kind and gentle servant who, with noiseless tread," unlocked life's flower encircled door, and led her to the arms of those she loved.' O, woman knows not the extent of her influence, and man feels not how greatly he is blessed by her generosity and virtue. It will not ever be thus. She that was "last at the cross and first at the sepulchre," has a holy, a lofty mission to fulfil. Already is she in action, and beautiful are the results. She is fast becoming the companion of man, and not the servant of her once tyrannical lord. Jesus is breaking the shackles that have in all countries been fastened upon her rights, powers, and affections. Woman is now taking her stand as a religious being, whose influence must be felt in the progression of society and the world. It is charming to see how virtue brightens under her reforming endeavors. What new energy she infuses into a religious com munity. Cold hearted husbands are led by the light of her love to church, to virtue, to religion. Indifferent brothers are not insensible to her earnest pleadings, and children are warmed into virtuous life and confiding trust by her constancy and devotion. She may, it is true, be sometimes fanatical, sometimes blinded in her enthusiasm; but the day is fast kindling when her ardent feelings shall be directed by a far seeing wisdom, and truth shall be mighty in her grasp. "No doubt a thousand fond images are stamped upon your heart that time will never efface. I hope indeed it is so. There is a joy in the memory of youthful times and associations. The recollection of them chastens the feelings and refreshes the affections. .. .. But let us smile through the tears. Let us feel the inspirations of hope. Let us trust in God, and fulfil our mission in the world. follow the path of right and duty, of virtue and religion we shall not be unhappy. My motto is, onward and still onward; never to give way to discouragements, never to sigh too mournfully over buried joys, but to thank God they were once my own, and look hopefully into the future. .... If we No doubt but over the fairest skies will be drawn lowering clouds, and the troubled atmosphere of life will bring its storms of trial and affliction. But my motto is," suffer and be strong." These storms must be considered as blessings in disguise. The sun will certainly succeed the shower; both will refresh and vivify the earth, so will joy succeed the day of sorrow, and both will strengthen the heart and multiply its virtues." J. S. B. God never alters his methods. We may burry ourselves, but we cannot hurry him. After all, the grass takes just as long to grow, and the oak-tree to develop, and the great processes of nature to unfold themselves. And we may be sure that just so much effort must go to just so much result. The great laws of God must be obeyed, or the rewards which follow the obedience of thosel aws will not come. IRON-CLAD. BY MRS. HELEN RICH. Clothe the proud ship 'gainst powder and shell! Oh, the brave, true arm with sinews of steel! Shout as the dark keel ploughs the wave; 'Tis saved, our country-by honest toil, Oh, thunder defiance long and loud, KANE. BY MRS. HELEN RICH. Coming down from more remote periods of time, the eyes fill with regretfui tears of love, as we find on a monumental marble in the gooa old city of Wm. Perr, this imposing yet simple inscription "ELISHA KENT KANE. Born Feb. 3, 1822, Died February 16, 1857." ous scion of our Republican institutions, Only thirty-five years did this illustrineed-in which to write his name and that of his grateful country- on the blue mountains of Virginia, the pagan temples of China, the palms of Ceylon, the fireribbed craters of Tael. The snow-capped Hymalayas, the pyramids of the Ptolemies, the banks of the Upper Nile, the ruins of Thebes, the imperishable mementoes of divine art, in the land of Demosthenes and Alexander. Greece the mighty, the fallen! The wondrous Colosseum, the mausoleum of earth's buried greatness, Westminster, the halls of the |