strong upon her. So true it is, that one act of kindness is worth a volume of sermons in converting people. The curate's vest was a baptismal robe to the unregenerated spirit of Mary Fielding, the freethinking potter's wife. concealed by the rags taken from the window; he was contented and happy, for he had had the blessing of a full meal: a rarity in the hut of the dying potter. The curate took the chair borrowed for him, placed it by the bed-side, and leaned towards the sick man. It was on an evening in the middle of June that Mr. Godfrey passed along to the potter's cottage. There had been some smart refreshing "Well, James, how do you feel now?" showers during the day, and the grass was health- "Better, sir, thank you, but still weakly. God ily green, and the flowers were vigorous and will bless you for what you ha' done. 'Tis balmy, and here and there was the restless un-mony a long day sin' I could prove my grati easy chirp, in the tree or hedge, of the young tude to anybody." bird in its nest. The sheep were settling down for the night in the meadows; and the cows, after milking, were scattered over the distant pasturages. At intervals there was an unyoked horse exulting in abundance and freedom. The poor saluted Mr. Godfrey as he passed, and the "Ah! Good-good. But I never found a rich cordially greeted him, for he was universal-true friend but Him and yourself, sir-they all ly beloved. forsook and misbelied me. I never was as bad "Never mind that. The Searcher of all hearts knows your intentions, James." "Yes-true! But d'ye think God heeds a poor critter like me?" "Undoubtedly. Our Father." "All God's works are beautiful and happy," as people made me; He knows that, and the said he to himself, as he wound among the green children. One's hearth is a fair assize." lanes, and gazed upon the broad benignant sky. "True, a fond husband and a kind father can"Man alone makes the world miserable. I cannot be a very bad man. I never believed you not think the design of Providence was to make ill-disposed, Fielding." the chief of a joyous creation wretched: there must be some key to human felicity. The departing sun shines on these dingy cottages, and the few straggling flowers bloom cheerfully, and cast their sweetness abroad on the air. Outside is God's work; within, is man's." And the curate entered the cabin of James Fielding, the potter. "No, bless thee for it, and He will bless thee. Ye ha' made me a Christian; the ways o' the world made me an infidel long ago. A man kindly treated, feels like a Christian, sir." "But we must give up resentments, now. I see, by your countenance you will soon meet your God. Prepare, Fielding, for that great judgment." There had evidently been preparations to receive him. The clay floor was newly sprinkled and swept, and the few articles of crockery and china, nearly all misshapen, or otherwise defec-dren, I had gone years back." tive, were as clean as the pebbles in a river. The children's faces, hands, and feet-for they had no shoes-were all fresh from the washingbasin, and their hair was sleekly combed across their foreheads. There was evident poverty, but an equally evident wish to conceal it. Not a vestige of furniture or ornament was in the room, beyond the few articles of earthenware mentioned; all the rest, to the three-legged stool for the baby, had either been sold or burned for fuel. There were three or four hassocks of hay for seats, but these too had been preyed on for fuel, and ran out at the sides; and there were some layers of chipped, dried-up straw, as a bed in the corner. On this was stretched the dying The eldest boy ran to borrow a chair as Mr. Godfrey entered, and the thrifty housewife had just drawn the old rags from the three lower panes of the glassless and only window in the hovel, to let the sun and air in. This was the abode of an Englishman in the heart of England. Yes, I know it will come soon, an' that ha' changed me. But, indeed, sir, I am a weary of the world. If it war not for her and the chil "The Christian religion always supposes poverty and suffering, James. Were all the world sinless and happy, the Atonement had been useless." man. "I can well believe thisn o' thee, sir. If yer wer dumb an' blind, yer han' would preach; 'tis the on'y sarmint as goes home to a hungry man. Fine words be o' small account. But when a rich parson, or a bishop or such, as never gives, an' never suffers, tells starvin poor fellows like me to bear their crosses, as the only road to heaven, it looks like humbug, sir. If heaven is to be won by poverty-sartintly nothing is so easy for 'em as to give all they ha' more than enow, to feed the hungry, an' comfort the afflicted." "Ah, James, this is bad grace in a dying man. It is enough for every one to look to himself; to bear his own burden, and to know that in the midst of trial, and sorrow, and suffering, he can have recourse to One who knew them all on earth. This, surely, is fair comfort." The patient had been propped up somewhat "It be, sir. "Tis at the point I am at now, on his straw, and a neighbor had shaved him a man feels he must believe in some religion, and lent him a shirt, which, though old, was an' there is none so nat'ral like as our own. A clean. So, what with well-washed skin and dyin' man is not a doubter. I wish I ha' been combed hair, and a cup of refreshing tea, he was of this way o' thinkin' long ago 'twould ha' prepared to receive the curate's visit in some-made me content-an' a contented man is a thing of a decent and Christian manner. One regular man, an' a regular man is a toilsome of the boys was in or rather on the bed-for man, an' a toilsome man is a thriving man; but there was no covering-from sheer nakedness. when one begins in grumblin' one ends wi' sorHe partly nestled in the straw, and was partly row. Mary, dear, gi' me a drink. I feel faintish.". The curate took the teapot from the yearning sounded strange and unearthly in the small and attentive wife's hand, and the fevered pa-chamber. The pale wife, with her infant daughtient, from the broken spout held to his mouth, ter in her lap, wept silently; and the little boy, drained the vessel greedily, till the few leaves at Jemmy, was seated on one of the worn-out hasthe strainer whizzed with their dryness. As he socks, holding the candle, which was stuck in drank, Godfrey had an opportunity of observing a bottle, for the good pastor as he read. The his countenance. "This man," said he to him- other boy was gone of an errand for a neighbor. self, was formed for a lofty destiny, but with Night had set in, and a gentle breeze fanned the him ignorance has marred nature. When will chamber through the open door and paneless man vindicate the purposes of God to his fel-window. People glided cautiously by, from time lows? When will England provide education to time, urged by pity or curiosity. for all her people?" As these thoughts passed After about an hour's stillness, the sick man rapidly through the pastor's mind, the sick man stirred, then tried to sigh, but the groan died 'spoke with a fainter voice, but with renewed within him, and for a time he whispered; but energy: "the spirit war willing, but the flesh nobody knew what he said. At length, after war weak. Well, sir, I know I am a dyin'. the curate had applied a few drops of moisture I war never a coward, but I does fear death. from an orange to his lips, he spoke audibly. "Tis like a goin' over a common one don't know, on a dark night-there be none about you but sperits." "Keep your eyes steadily on your guiding star, James. That light sufficeth." "I believe, sir. O Lord, help my unbelief." "Thank Heaven for those words," said the curate; "and now, Fielding, since you are in this good frame of mind, I must tell you one thing that will lighten your last moments. Old Mrs. Williams is getting too aged for the parish school, and as she is to retire on a small pension, I have secured the post for Mary. I know she will fill it well. This will keep the wolf from the door, and I will look to the little ones. So you see things are not so bad as you expected. You will leave those dear to you pretty middling off, and they will remain, under Providence, to be a blessing to themselves and to their country." "Thank God! thank God! My soul is at peace now. She is provided for, and they, too. Read to me, sir, please; 'twill rouse me up-I feel drowsyish." The curate opened his pocket Bible, and in a sweet low voice read from the fourteenth to the seventeenth of John. As he proceeded, the little boy peeped up from his straw, and sucked in the words. The sick man opened his stiffening lids from time to time, and murmured a prayer from unparted motionless lips, which "I was dreaming, Mary, as we war happy with God. The children had enow to eat; they give me my good name back agen; an' we war all very happy." After a pause, and much internal muttering, he resumed with a perceptible spirit of energy, although his spent powers made him scarcely audible. "Oh, Mr. Godfrey, if more would, like thee, only come and see the poor, an' what they suffers! Tell the lads, sir, to wait a bit but to struggle on, for there is hope for the working man. An' bid the rich folk consider the laborer, an' the parsons to be all like thee, an' England will be right. Mary, a drink, dear; the heart is as dry as a cinder within me." His wife brought him a little cold water, into which the curate squeezed some orange juice. "Mary To our Father, I commit thee, girl, when I am gone. I am dead afore I am dead, leaving my Mary. Kiss my forehead, girl! God bless thee! Comfort these little children, God! they be orphans now." And he prayed inwardly. In that hour he had no succor but prayer, and the remembrance of any good he had done in his life. The baby was crying on its mother's breast, and the cradle trembled in the hands of the weeping boy who still held it. The wife was still and pale; her heart was being rifted from her. The curate had bent his knee in prayer, and comforted the dying and the desolate. From The Economist, 8 July. that she has had a very difficult game to play, AUSTRIA AND THE ALLIED ARMIES. and that she has played it with consummate skill. She has postponed to the last moment a It seems pretty certain that we are now, at knotty and dubious decision; she has minimlength, fairly entitled to number Austria ised, by temporising, the dangers that suramong our allies, to presume that she has rounded her; and by a shrewd, careful, and finally chosen her side, and is at present act-patient policy, she has succeeded in placing ing in concert with the English, French, and herself in the most available position for giving Turkish forces. And whatever opinion we effect to her ulterior designs, whatever those may form respecting the sincere cordiality and designs may be. real voluntariness of her co-operation, the ex- The commencement of the dispute found her tent to which she agrees with us as to the ob- in a position of singular embarrassment and jects of the war, and the degree of zeal with perplexity. Her relations with the Porte were which she may be disposed to assist us in the reverse of friendly; she had just been realizing those objects, there can be no doubt bullying that unfortunate Power in the Monte negrin affair in a manner the most irritating fortunes of war might incline. She could not and unwarrantable; like the Czar, she looked believe that the Turks would have made the upon Turkey as feeble and fated, and was gallant and successful stand they have done; anxious to enter a caveat against being for she was not at first aware -no one was- to gotten in the division of the anticipated spoil. what extent France and England were in With regard to Russia, her position was more earnest, and how they might be prepared to complex still. She owed the Czar deep grati- insist unflinchingly upon their demands. She tude for signal and recent services rendered knew, too, that to embrace boldly and avowin her hour of extremest need; she could not, edly either side, would immediately raise inhowever, avoid secretly resenting the mode, testine war in her dominions, employ all her or rather the accessories of the mode, strength, and menace the very existence of her, in which that service had been rendered; Empire. If she had promptly embraced the and she looked with jealousy and alarm on his side of Russia, France and England would growing and colossal power and on the pecu- have connived at or openly assisted an Italian liar relation which he held both with regard to insurrection, and Venice and Lombardy would the Danubian provinces and to her Sclavo-have been irretrievably lost. The Porte would nian subjects. At the same time she was con- have sanctioned the formation of a legion of scious that she could only exist by the alliance Polish and Magyar exiles, Hungary would have of some first-rate Power, and she hated Russia been up in arms directly, and Austria, instead less than any other, and could hope more from of being able to aid Russia, would have had to her than from either of the Western Sovereigns. fight for life and safety on two frontiers at Towards England her sentiments were those once. If, on the contrary, she had thrown of undisguised and not unnatural animosity; herself into the arms of the Allies, she would and of France she was at once shy, suspicious, have warded off those dangers, or that special and afraid. Hungary, the most warlike and form of them, but she would have had to purextensive, and Lombardy, the richest, portion chase any cordiality of friendship on the part of her dominions, were in a state of latent re- of England at least, by conceding to Italy, that bellion and chronic fury, and could scarcely moderately mild Government which would fail to be kindled into flame, if once the match was applied, or if a conflagration was raging in their neighborhood. have been incompatible with the quiet retention of an authority resting solely on the sword, and to Hungary the old constitutional rights Under these circumstances her first object of which for generations she has been successwas, of course, to prevent war from breaking fully intriguing to deprive her;-or, failing out, by any means in her power. Accordingly that, she would have had to encounter the she contrived to transfer the seat of negotia- certain peril of an Hungarian revolution, fotions to Vienna; she urged the acceptance mented and sustained by Russia, which would by everybody of any terms of accommodation have paralyzed her whole army, by abstractthat were suggested; she endeavored, first, to ing at one blow 150,000 Magyar troops and bully the Sultan into accepting the Vienna requiring 150,000 others to make head against note; she next endeavored to cajole the Czar them. Whereas, by waiting to see which party into accepting the Turkish modifications of that note; and she joined our ambassadors in exhorting Russia to be moderate and Turkey to be patient. The Turkish declaration of war was a great blow to her; and the announcement of France and England that they would not see Turkey wronged, was a still greater one. War, however, being inevitable, her next anxiety was to confine it within Eastern limits, and tread it out as soon as possible. For this purpose new negotiations were set on foot, and she proclaimed her determination to maintain a strict neutrality. By this means she virtually held out to both belligerent parties a hope that her conduct and ultimate decision might be favorable to their several views― to Russia, that she would secure them against all danger on the side of Transylvania- to the Allies, that she would not allow her supposed secret sympathies with Russia to betray her into any actual thwarting or embarrassing of their plans. She felt perfectly uncertain which way the would prove victorious, by refusing definitively to break with either, she reserved to herself a double chance of safety. While her decision trembled in the balance, she knew that we should not countenance an Italian, nor would Russia encourage an Hungarian insurrection, because either course would convert Austria from a neutral into an enemy; and when the time came when a decision could no longer be postponed, it would no longer be attended with danger, because the tendency of events would have declared itself. If the Allies were defeated, the vast power of Russia would be available to aid Austria against any contingency; Hungary would be effectually kept quiet; and Italy she might then deal with herself. If, on the other hand, Russia should succumb, or the issue of the campaign should show that her might and resources had been greatly overrated, Austria might then join the Allies with safety; because Russia would be unable to give that material assistance to Hungary without which insurrection would be madness; or, if she still resolved to maintain | gether within his own frontier, and prepare her neutrality, she would have the advantage for that obstinate defensive warfare which we of seeing the curbing of Russian power with- pointed out some months ago as the best for out having incurred Russian enmity. The Czar him and the most embarrassing for us. In the would have been driven from a position men- latter event all our anxieties will be renewed. acing to Austria, but not by Austrian hostility. It must be remarked that Lord John Russell But, as it was impossible to foresee the distinctly states that England and France are course of events, it was desirable to be pre- not parties to the convention in virtue of which pared for any contingency, both by preparing Austria takes possession of the Principalities; large armies and locating them in the best stra- but it is scarcely conceivable that they have tegic and political positions. Accordingly, even permitted such a vital arrangement withAustria early in the embroilment put her out a clear understanding with Austria that troops upon a war footing, posted them on the she has abandoned she position she at first frontiers of Servia and Wallachia, so that she avowed and has not been hitherto supposed to could enter at pleasure either the provinces retain-viz., that she would not be a party to of Turkey or the countries occupied by Rus- any encroachments on the integrity of the sia. She then pertinaciously endeavored Russian Empire, and would merely insist on reto obtain permission to occupy the territo- pelling her aggression and confining her withries she was known to desire-first, Bosnia in her own frontier. If, retaining these opinand Albania, on pretext of repressing any at- ions and intentions, she has been suffered to tempt at insurrection; then Servia, on the plea occupy the Principalities and take the war on of checking a Muscovite movement; lastly, Wallachia, with a view of driving, or keeping, the Russians out of it. The Porte declined the two former proposals, but has acceded to the third. that quarter into her own hands, it is obvious that Russia having once resolved or found it necessary to evacuate those provinces, could desire nothing better, since she is there followed and replaced by a foe who has no design of Thus Austria, so far has gained her ends. pursuing her across her own boundary line, She has prevented any insurrectionary move- and is in a manner pledged not to do so; that ments in her own discontented dominions; boundary, therefore, needs no defence—it is while blaming and remonstrating with Nicho- under the protection, as it were, of her antago las, she has all along intimated plainly enough nist; and she is, in consequence, free to transthat she merely wished him to be baffled in port her whole force to whatever part of her his criminal aggression, not punished for at- domain may be threatened. In other words, tempting it; she has avoided incurring his en- by simply recrossing the Pruth, the entire mity till Turkish gallantry and the appear- Russian army which has been defeated on the ance of the Allies on the scene of action have Danube, becomes available for the defence of not only defeated his efforts, but have exposed the Crimea. his weakness and given him enough to do to defend his own frontier and his own shores; and finally, she is now " occupying," by the consent of the Porte and the connivance of the Allies, those very Provinces which she has coveted for many generations. She is exactly where she wished to be-without having struck a single blow, or committed herself-save by words to any engagement beyond the status quo for Turkey; and she has bound Prussia to protect her against any consequences which her conduct may bring upon her in any quarter of her dominions. It is impossible not to admire her patient and sagacious policy. But, as we have said, it is not to be supposed that so obvious a danger will have escaped either our Ministers or our diplomatists. We must, therefore, assume the Austrian troops will take care to find ample and permanent occupation for the Russian armies in Wallachia, and that the Turks will be able to retake the fortresses in the Dobrutscha, and that the Anglo-French forces will therefore be available for an immediate attack on the Crimea. We must sup pose, too, that the Ottoman troops, in concert with their new ally, will suffice to drive the invaders back across the Pruth. It then becomes, we think, a matter of simple policy, The general retrograde movement of the humanity, and justice that the war should be Russian forces towards Sereth may mean either carried over the frontier with the utmost posof two things. Either they are intended to sible expedition. Hitherto the invaders have take up a defensive position extending from conducted hostilities almost entirely at the exMatchin, Ibraila, and Galatz to Fokshany, to pense of the invaded; they have lived on the enable them to meet the Turkish army on the wretched Wallachians and Moldavians, exLower Danube, and the Austrian army, whe- hausted their resources, and inflicted on them ther it advances through Wallachia or from all the horrors of war;-it is time they should Transylvania by the pass near Kronstadt-in be made in turn to feel the sufferings and which case the two parties must soon come support the ravages and pay the expenses of into collision, and all doubt will be at an end. the conflict they have invited. Bessarabia is Or, the Czar may be intending to retire alto-rich and fertile, the Principalities are wasted Gone they are not. In the far blue skies and dried up-and it would be unjust, bar- of arrangements. From The Press. The Wife's Manual; or, Prayers, Thoughts, and Songs on Several Occasions of a Matron's Life. By the Rev. W. Calvert, M. A. London: Longmans. Wake not our thankfulness. Yet still, unmindful though we be, Look 66 Shall glad our hearts again. The volume is beautifully produced the style of ornamentation is adopted from that Book of Christian Prayers" printed in 1569, commonly known as Queen Elizabeth's Prayer Book, some of the borders being copied from that work, while the binding, solid and handsome, is well-adapted for a gift-book intended for life-long preservation. From the Economist. MATERIALS FOR PAPER. THESE meditations are in verse, and comprise the thoughts and feelings most appropriate to a gentle and loving woman's mind, from the moment when the ring is placed on her finger to the hour when she soothes her dying husA CORRESPONDENT reminds us that the band's pillow, or prepares her own spirit for Chinese make paper out of the bark of trees its flight. There are prayers for purity of and plants. There is, in fact, no want of maheart, for strength to resist temptation, for terials out of which paper can be made, for fortitude in trial, for the safe-keeping of rela- almost every vegetable substance can be matives and friends, for patience under affiic- cerated into pulp and converted into paper. tions, for comfort in trouble, for resignation One gentleman has, we hear, taken out a paand hope when death enters the household tent for making paper out of turnips. It can and tears away the best loved there. But be made from straw, nettles, hop-bind, rice, some meditations, introduced we suppose to turf, cow-dung, according to a writer of the render the book more complete, might have Journal of the Society of Arts, plantain, etc. The been dispensed with. It is not pleasant, nor want is less of materials for paper than cheap perhaps profitable, for a young wife to con- materials. Rags, except as convertible into patemplate the possibility of losing her hus- per, are entirely worthless. Before any vegetaband's affections. We do not recollect any ble or fibrous substances can be obtained in quanprevious work by Mr. Calvert, but he has tities, labor must be skilfully applied, because evidently drank deeply at the spring where all other things are obtained cheaply by skilled the most poetically-minded of our classical labor, and there is no other than skilled labor divines as Ken and Jeremy Taylor-im- now in existence. No plants, as the rule, bibed their inspiration. His verse is of grow plentifully without labor, and cannot be that kind which, from its union of piety gathered without labor. In almost all cases, and feelings, of holy inspiration and human too, the substances that are fit to make paper sympathy, is peculiarly suited to homes are fit to make cloth, or something more valuwhere charitable desires and domestic affec-able than paper, and to that they will, in preftions, mingling together, and running still but deep, are esteemed as life's best possessions. As a specimen of the book we may quote the piece entitled FORGOTTEN BLESSINGS. Where are the stars-the stars that shone All through the summer night? Where are they and their pale queen gone, As if they fear'd to be look'd upon By the gaze of the bold daylight? erence, be applied. They will serve to make paper after they have been used for some other purpose. We cannot assert that no substance will be found in abundance so cheap as rags; but it is their worthlessness-they being the waste or refuse of consumption-in comparison with any or all the products of labor, which creates the difficulty of finding substitutes for them. For society to go on smoothly, there must be either less progress in the intellectual arts, or there must be more |