STRIKING INSTANCE OF TURKISH JUSTICE. A merchant of Smyrna had a son, who, after profiting by that confined education which the Turks generally give their children, had risen to the office of Naib, whose principal duty is, to inspect the weights and measures used by merchants. One day as this officer was going his ordinary rounds, some neighbours of the old merchant, who had long been acquainted with his dishonest dealings, advised him to be prepared for the visit of the Naib, and to conceal his weights and measures before he should appear; but the old offender, thinking that as the Naib was his own son, he would not expose him to public disgrace, and instead of following the advice of his friends, laughed heartily, and with great unconcern, waited at the door of his shop for the arrival of the officer. The Naib, who was not ignorant of his father's character and disposition, had often warned him of his danger, and earnestly requested him to change his conduct, but perceiving that all his entreaties were disregarded, he, at length, resolved to make an example of him; and on the day in question, thus addressed him, as he approached his shop, “bring me,” said he, "your weights, they must be examined publicly." The merchant assuming a smiling countenance, begged his son to pass on, and to come and dine with him on his return. "No," replied the officer, sternly, "let me first see if your weights are just. Soldiers, bring me hither, immediately, his weights and measures The father, after having seen his fraudulent weights and measures destroyed, vainly imagined that all was over, and began to console himself for the loss he had sustained, when the Naib condemned him, not only to pay a fine of fifty piastres, but to receive as many blows, with a stick, on the soles of his feet, which punishment was instantly inflicted, notwithstanding the tears and cries of the old man. The son then alighted from his horse-threw himself at the feet of the merchant, and bursting into tears, "Father," said he, "I have now discharged my duty to my God, to my Soverign, and to my country. Permit me now to discharge that which I owe to Nature. Justice is blind; it is the hand of God upon earth; it knows not parents; you have offended justice; another would have punished you; I am sorry it has fallen to my lot, but my duty is my supreme law. Let me beseech you to be just for the future, and instead of blaming, pity that son, who, after having many times admonished you, has been compelled, by your own fraudulent behaviour and obstinacy, to exercise the severity of the law against you." Husbands and wives, be ye kind one to another. B DEATH OF ALICE. Even in her bloom, Alice, like the bud halfblown, bore in her hosom the worn-the messenger of destruction-which, unseen though steadfast, gnawed at its core. Her fragile form had, year by year, become attenuated; her step,. less buoyant and elastic; her tones, more thrilling, though more faint; and her eye, ever bright and beautiful, now dazzled with unwonted brilliancy;—all, foretelling the near approach of that hour when the soul untrammelled, soars aloft and claims its birth-right in the skies. Alice, in pursuance of medical advice, and accompanied by her son, a female friend and her nurse, embarked on board a vessel to seek recovery in a sea voyage. For many weeks they sailed about, varying their course to the varying wind, in the futile hope of prolonging life by change of scene; of renovating the human frame, which, like a complex and beautiful instrument, none but its maker can repair. Although each recurring sun had brought change of scene and frequent change of aspect in the weather; although the lowering cloud no longer swept across the sky; and although the ocean, late tempest-tossed, now sobbed and moaned in its calm there came no change to Alice. Every day witnessed the extinction of a ray of hope; every hour increased the shadow of approaching death, which, like a bird of prey, circles nearer and nearer, ere he makes his fatal swoop. The waning strength, the fading, sinking eye, proclaimed that the impending blow might not be averted. Despairing, they bent their course for home, trusting to reach it before the pure spirit of their charge should be summoned away. The scorching sun on high threw his fiercebeams on a parched and gasping earth; the meandering river scarce rippled on its course; and the sea, far as the eye could reach, lay as calm and still and glowing, as if its light and buoyant element were changed into motled lead. Here and there a discordant gull, with outspread wing, lay panting on the surface: the stormy petal, whose spirits rise clamorous with the gale, noiselessly skimmed along, and anon folded its wings and sunk exhausted on the bosom of the ocean-and far off, on the verge of the horizon, floated a light and graceful fabric,. which alone, within the broad scope of vision, proclaimed man as its architect. A temporary couch erected on the deck of that frail barque, supported the exhausted frame of Alice, who, screened from the meridian sun by a light awning overhead, breathed more freely than in the close confined cabin from which she had been just removed. Before her lay her native land skirting the western horizon with a brilliant line of light, reflected from the blanched and indurated sand, and throwing in bold relief the dark outline of luxuriant foliage in the back ground. Beyond the point, almost within sight, was their destined haven, whose glassy waters reflected her paternal roof, and washed the shore, so often pressed in infancy by her tiny feet, in search of the glistening pebble, or the curious shell. As the present receded from the view-the past in palpable distinctness marshalled its events, and the pallid lip and fading eye of the dying woman, kindled with the exuberant smile and arch and playful glance of the morn of life. Her mother's plaintive voice and fond caress; her father's step, long listened for, caught at last; and her own shout of welcome, soon changed for the merry, ringing laugh, as she tossed and gambolled in his arms;—all in vivid seeming, tangible and clear, passed before her, and the sports of childhood were renewed in fancy on the bed of death. Those "who go down to the sea in ships' "those who see the wonders of the Lord," the way-farers on the tempestuous, treacherous deep,-whether amid the awful grandeur of the storm, or the calm's sublime immensity, exclaim "God is great!" and feel that he is still more merciful. Although the night may have been threatening and the moon obscure, it rarely happens that, for many days in succession, the sun ere he passes the meridian, does not, though but for a moment, exhibit himself to the watchful gaze of the bewildered mariner, and enable him to correct his reckoning and shape his proper course. Thus, while the tide of life ebbs fast, although the mind may wander and reason totter on her crumbling throne, yet often, before the final bound is passed, the gazing eye is again relumed: and the soul, like the expiring taper, throws out one bright though transient gleam before it flits forever. The frequent smile which played across the countenance of Alice, had passed away, and she sunk into a quiet slumber-during which she breathed so soft and faint, that glances of apprehension were frequently exchanged between her attendants. Presently she awoke, and, with a smile of recognition, extended her hand to her Leon son, and faintly pronounced his name. bent over and listened eagerly, for his mother strove to speak. Rallying her strength for its final effort, she found at length connected utterance. "Leon," she said, "I am summoned from you, and in committing you to Him who never yet forsook the orphan, I pray you remember the history of your father, which I have so of ten repeated to you. Dress your every act in the mirror of that father's life; and when clouds gather around and darken your career, think of the course he would, so circumstanced, have pursued and then, without pause or hesitation, in full and confident assurance of the right, let your step be onward, and upward, and charitable to your fellow-men ;-humble and pious to your God. There is much that I wish to say to you, my son. I fear that in my hopes of you, I have been too worldly; for as the film of death gathers over my sight, the empty nothingness of this life becomes apparent; and the soul feels that good deeds and time well spent, are its only claims to an inheritance in Heaven. But-my strength-is-failing fast. Pray for me for the sting-of death-is on" As her head sunk on the pillow, her eye rested on a book which lay beside the couch. Her friend interpreting the glance, took it up, and. in tones faltering with emotion, read the solemn service for a departing soul. It was a groupe fit for the highest efforts of a Raphael or a Guido. There lay Alice, with her hands folded on her bosom, sustaining a crucifix-the emblem of a sinner's hope-the standard of Redemption: her eyes half closed, and, save an occasional movement of the upper lip, her whole attitude as still as if the chord of life had been already touched by the hand of death. On either side were her son and friend, both with lids surcharged, engaged in silent supplication at her feet, was the now aged and sorrow-stricken Hannah and beyond, clustered together, the hardy, sun-burnt seamen, the best feelings of their rugged natures awakened by the solemn and affecting scene. At the passage, "May Christ Jesus, Son of the living God, absolve thee from all thy sins, and place thee at his right hand in the inheritance of the elect," a smile of pure, ineffable and heavenly sweetness, lighted her features. After the service was concluded, a few minutes were spent in silent aspiration; and when they raised their eyes, they beheld a countenance fixed and rigid with the lines of death. The beatified spirit had been wafted in prayer to the bosom of its God. MEDITATION. "Can he want occupation who has these? Will he be idle who has much t' enjoy?-COWPER." So vigilant, in research, has been every true lover of the picturesque who had the capability of committing his impressions to paper, that there remains for the gleaner of our day, scarcely a spot of any note in our State, unsung or undescribed. Waterfalls, mountains, hill, dale and inland sea, have all, in turn, become tribu tary to his diary or port-folio-dressed up in every variety of style and attraction, according to the taste and discernment of the sketcher. My design, therefore, must be limited-it must not so excursively enter into the broad lands of the picturesque in nature, nor unseal the fountains for the limpid variety of rich colourings, nor describe the distinct or blended tints of the rainbow, to please the mere reader; but it claims the attention of the fair student to the contemplation of the many exalted subjects that swell the bosom of the imaginative and meditative; and direct it to the immense and wonderful works of the Great Architect. He who is born at the foot of the mountain loses all ideas of its grandeur by daily, hourly familiarity: the inhabitants of the prairies observe not their beauties, nor the variegated flowers that decorate the landscape and perfume the soft breeze with their aromatic sweets: he who dwells within hearing of the thunders of the mighty cataract, heeds not its tremendous roar as the waters tumble from their elevation into the boiling gulf below; neither is he whose early days have been spent on the borders of our inland seas, likely to be the most ready in referring the harmonious beauty of that tranquil power to its great, first cause— nor, for the same reason of habitual familiarity, does the professional traveller of the ocean's surge, or the enthusiastic visitor of the healthy and breezy cliffs that overhang the rolling billows as they dash against their sides, see, or hear, or feel the sublimity of nature's noble works, as unfamiliar minds can do; or reflect from whence the power which put in motion, and keeps, in their never ceasing “going and coming," the mysterious tides that spread along the extended beach, with the fresh and giant grasp of mind, of one to whom such sights are strange and new. I have been led to these observations, by the evidence of apathy pervading some of the descriptions which those scenes have suggested, certainly not inspired; while to me they have all appeared as objects not alone of interest, but of deep reverence and awe. Such, at least, have frequently been my feelings when approaching some lofty mountain; such as I have observed with more than ordinary sensations, on the Hudson when approaching the Highlands; for there the approach from either end is rapid and the change so sudden-near Tappan Bay from the south or Newburgh from the north-that it seems as if the steam-boat would, as if by magic, bear you into the very heart of the wild primeval forests.— There and then rapidly arise, on either hand, mountains, cliffs, tall rocks and rugged peaks; while far down, the leaning clouds enfold their summits or wreathe, in fantastic curvatures, their picturesque sides. The scene here is truly amazing, and I stood in wonder on the deck of the boat as she dashed the startled waters away to the base of the mountains, and swept onward in her serpentining course. How have I shrank into myself when borne along in those dark mountain shadows! what a mite upon the globe is man in such situations! how convincingly they testify of an Almighty Hand, and of the insignificance of the material particles composing the human frame! How unutterably great the Being who could speak into existence the granite hills whose sides have, for ages, borne the winter's blasts, and the thunders that play amid their summits. At other times I have stood upon the shore and cast my eyes over the undulating or rolling waters of the Atlantic even to the horizon, while imagination conjured up cities, hamlets, cottages and castles peopled by myriads of human beings, all in the busy pursuit of some selfish object-all directed by the same impulses, all possessed of the same passions. With what extasy have I beheld the billows rolling and tumbling, with their white crests before the mighty wind like war-horses, champing upon the bit and foaming under the lash of the martial riders and then how utterly insignificant I appeared when calling to mind the majesty and power of Him who rides upon the wind and holds the waters of the wondrous deep in the hollow of his hand. I have been among the vast prairies, and observed with awe their sublime silence: all appeared like space undefined: surely the spirit of Him who reposes upon the deep dwells also there. I hear the birds singing their vesper hymns in the grey of the evening, or carolling their matin when the sun leads in the morning; while the odour of the many coloured flowers perfumes the air; and then I have stood in that silent reverence which felt as if a breath would disturb the harmony and pervading quiet: and I thought of the hush of that first sweet hour of Nature's existence, when the birds were first taught to sing, and the flowers to give beauty, and balm and loveliness to the earth. All those times, and situations, and sights, have had their influence on my mind; but how much greater was that of the cataract, the headlong Niagara rushing and plunging down its precipice, and dashing forward, volume on volume, as I endeavoured to repress my feelings, as I instinctively contemplated the author of all this stupendous and everlasting, and unlessened flood of waters. Here again must we recur to the littleness of man, standing as I then did, the humblest point in the humiliating comparison. Yet one more scene have I stood amid, rich in all the charms of the moonlight hour; the evening was calm, the moon was bright and high in the blue vault of heaven; now beaming down upon us the mellow reflection of the light of the God of day, now hidden behind a passing cloud, and casting the driving shadow along the plain; then again flushed with light, surrounded by the twinkling stars which decorate the canopy of heaven. How have I attempted to stretch my imagination to the planets of our system, with an anxiety to hold converse with the beings presumed to inhabit them; and then to the distant stars, that seem situated on the verge of space. How eagerly have I attempted to keep my eyes upon the track of the fiery comet, as it sped through ether; and what were my feelings of amazement, as I lost sight of the transient visitant, which I knew might again, after a lapse of years, revisit the earth. To what portion of creation does it travel? what are its offices? what climes, what countries have seen it? what planets has it met in its course? what people has it attracted to study it, or what has been the great mystery of its mission? Thus have I mused and contemplated in my wanderings, and turned in increased admiration and gratitude to the greatness, goodness and wisdom of Him who has set in motion so many worlds, causing them to move in just harmony; who has also created us, and endowed us with faculties capable of partaking of the joys of his magnificent and stupendous works, that we might the better "look through nature up to nature's God!" LINES J. D. F. Suggested by the award of a GOLD MEDAL TO MR. THOMAS BRIDGEMAN, the Author of "The Young Gardener's Assistant," at the Fourteenth Annual Fair of the American Institute, 1841, for its great practical utility. As Valour's meed, and Honour's brightest test, More nobly won than that for shedding blood! 'D. M. 66 'And, perhaps," returned the other, "you intend to spend some part of the vacation in the neighbourhood of their country-seat." "Not exactly," was the reply, "although a more noble situation is not afforded in the whole country. What taste! what elegance, surround their ample domain. Did you observe how, when they walked up the avenue-the lofty elms, meeting over head, completely shut out the sun, while the green grass was spread out like a carpet beneath their feet. Their father is a man of elegant taste, I assure you. Even the out-houses have an air of gentility about them." "He must be rich then." "He is one of our merchant Princes," answered Frank. "In trade he has been very fortunate, and waits only to finish a few more capital speculations to retire from business. No man in this part of the country is more respected than Mr. Converse. He might have gone to Congress if he had chosen, but he preferred staying at home and attending to his own business. Between you and me, Elverton, there is a sort of a project in which the tallest of those two girls and I are deeply interested." "I thought,” replied Elverton, "you seemed to be acquainted with each other. Your prudent father's design, no doubt." "True, very true. He designs to make a cat's paw of me, by which to clear some of the golden chestnuts of Mr. Converse into our worthy family." "I should suppose that Miss Converse might suit your taste," said Elverton. "She is intelligent and certainly not deficient in beauty." “She has had the advantage of a boarding school," answered the other with a smile, and both the girls have returned home to spend the vacation. They attend the school of Mrs. Willard. But you cannot become acquainted with a body by hearing her speak in a stage-coach. However, I shall not be rebellious; for as I am in love with no other girl, I know not why I should object to Miss ConShe is young yet, and several years must elapse before the affair takes place." verse. Here the coach abruptly stopped, and the young men alighted in front of a handsome stone edifice. It stood a little distance from the road, and the area was fancifully filled with fruit trees, rose bushes, and green-house plants, the gravelly walks were bordered with box, and fallen rase leaves were pressed by the feet of the young men, as they marched up to the portico which surrounded the building. They were met near the door by an elderly gentleman, and Frank immediately said, "Father, this is Mr. Charles Elverton, from South Carolina-my college chum-who has come to spend the vacation with us!" Mr. Wallack shook Charles heartily by the hand; for his opinion of Southern men was very exalted, and he had also heard young Elverton spoken of by his son in terms of extravagant praise. They entered the house together; and the young visitor had no cause to draw invidious comparisons between Nothern and Southern hospitality. Frank and his friend spent the forenoon of the next day in rambling about the grounds. But in the afternoon, a couple of saddled horses were brought to the door, and they mounted. Frank had, indeed, been rather urgent with his friend, to pay a visit to the "palace," as it was called by the neighbouring farmers. As they passed along the road, on their ambling steeds, the spirits of the young men rose, and they talked merrily of some of the ludicrous scenes which they had witnessed at college. It was a pleasant season of the year. The birds carolled on every spray-the rivulets danced down the neighbouring hills, and the squirrel frisked among the branches; all nature was gay, and their spirits partook of the mood. Here they suddenly turned an angle in the road, and before they could rein in their steeds, they were in the midst of a cluster of children, who had assembled in the middle of the highway. One little boy was at once stricken down by the fore legs of Elverton's horse; but the rest escaped without harm. As quick as thought, Elverton sprang from his horse. Frank slowly followed his example. On examination, it appeared that the boy was injured in the head. He lay insensible on the ground, and the blood gushed from his nostrils. One boy, as ragged as he who was hurt, came up to the spot, and cried “Tommy is killed! Tommy is killed !" and began to weep bitterly. "Oh, no, my poor boy," said Elverton, "he is not killed. Is he your brother?” The lad answered he was, and was easily persuaded to point out the place where he resided. Guided by the smoke which issued from a little mud chimney, Elverton bore the wounded lad, through the bushes, toward the hovel, followed by the little fellow whom we have mentioned. As he drew near the humble habitation, he perceived that it was a very old building, containing but two rooms; the windows were stuffed with rags and old hats, and a few fragments of clothing fluttered on the bushes, while a pale grief-worn woman leaned over a firkin, evidently engaged in washing the scanty wardrobe of the family. "Is it possible that my heedlessness has added to the unhappiness of such wretched beings," thought Elverton, as he entered the door-yard with his burden. The woman raised her eyes, and saw the boy in the arms of Elverton. She clasped her hands, and rushing forward to meet him, gazed in the face of the youth, with dreadful anxiety depicted on her wasted features. "Do not be alarmed, my good woman," said Elverton, "I trust the boy is not much injured, my horse struck him while"Oh God, is this-but no-I err, I err-thy will-thy holy will be done." The unhappy mother now exhibited her alarm more in looks than words, while Elverton moved on, and carried the boy into the house. He laid the sufferer on a pallet, when he opened his eyes, and complained of a pain in his head. After a few consolatory words, Elverton left him in his mother's care, and hastened for a physician. As he mounted his horse, Frank observed that it was hardly worth while to take so much trouble about the affair, as the Pinkhams were a miserable set of habitual drunkards. Elverton made a brief reply and hastened on |