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ceeds to enjoy his slight and lonely breakfast. We are much mistaken if that scared and haggard look belong not to a suspected, perhaps to a proscribed man; and we query whether St. Anthony's stout servitor would have pronounced his "benedicite" over the cup of coffee, if he had known what "pestilent fellow" it was about to refresh.

But now for the attractive stall of the seller of frutti di mare-sea fruits." And what may they be? queries the reader. They are shell-fish; and here you may make that great moral effort which is called into exercise at the moment of swallowing a huge, cold, raw oyster. Here you may attempt to digest that tough difficulty, a great Mediterranean muscle, or a leather-like cockle, under the illusion that you are all the while feasting in the cool, delicious "fruit" gardens of the sea. But Filippo, the marine market-gardener, is a man of taste, and gracefully he adorns his stall. He must have cultivated the beautiful pleasure-grounds of the blue Mediterranean, as well as the "fruit beds;" for here he has a grove of branching coral trees, ruby-red and glistening, fresh from the deep sea fountains, spreading forth their mimic boughs and their little grappling roots. And here he has the more fragile shrubs of those same groves and gardens, delicate corallines, shaded from brilliant rose color to pale pink.

before him down to the Mola, the great pier of Naples. They are right; the old man is bending his steps thither as fast as his treacherous shoes will accompany him; and now he stands in the midst of a little square of wooden benches, places his hat on the lava pavement, and arranges therein a bundle of papers, which form his whole stock in trade. The sailors precipitate themselves upon the benches; the peasant man feels doubtfully in his pocket, and hesitatingly takes his seat; the poor facchini nervously hover round the outer edge of the group, and betray the surreptitious design of eavesdropping. The old orator selects his subject; it is the oft-told but untiring story of Rinaldo, one of the doughty paladins of Charlemagne. “Most dear friends! honorable gentlemen! noblehearted fellow-countrymen! you shall hear, in the name of the Immaculate Virgin, how Rinaldo lived, how he loved, how he rescued, how he bled! Bonissimo! Ah, now we are ready." And away goes the old man into the wild regions of romance, over deep seas and broad continents, now fighting with dragons, now with false knights, now with the turbaned Moslem. His whole frame trembles; his voice, clear as a silver bell and mellow as a distant echo, now rings out loud and high with triumph, now bursts with fitful passion, now flows on softly, caressingly, and then dies away in the low moanings of unutterable distress. And what effect has all this upon the belt of inflammable materials which surrounds him? Those fieryeyed men are like tow dipped in camphene, or like cases of gunpowder or bundles of

physical nature is bituminous or sulphurous. Drop a spark upon it, and it will ignite; bestow a little skillful friction, and it will explode. Ha! those few ringing words about fratriá, libertà, tiranniá, are working wildly within them; teeth are ground, hands are clinched, and, half rising from their benches, they growl under their breath like caged tigers. The Signor Enrico looks around into the glaring eyes that hem him in, and knows he has said

As we turn away from Filippo's stall, with its various "frutti di mare,” we observe an eccentric-looking old man moving along with a theatrical air through the busy groups of Santa Lucia. He is meanly clad-his poor clothes, like himself, look-lucifer matches. Their whole moral and ing as if they had known better times. In his hand he holds a roll of papers, which he waves with a lofty scenic effect, as though he were a senator in the great republic of letters. As he steps airily on, one after another separates himself from the masses, and follows, as if drawn into his train by some irresistible principle of fascination. Here a facchino, (porter,) forfeiting his chance of a job, eagerly joins his train; there a countryman, who has driven a wine-cart into Naples from Por-enough-said too much, it may be; for tici, deserts his dove-colored oxen and follows in his wake; and now a large group of sailors, who had been vociferating over their game of "mora," clap their hands and fling up their caps at sight of the old Signor Enrico, and crowd tumultuously

there are two evil-looking lazzaroni who are stealing furtively away along the Mola. What for? what if it be to give a hint to the police, with whom they are leagued?

The speaker knows well enough that he must have no eruption from his little crater;

and, changing his tone accordingly, he pours forth a gentle tide of liquid melody, made up of love, of beauty, of fair flowers, of blue skies and sunny seas. The antidote works well; it is chloroform stilling the fiery pain of those fever souls. Their eyes swim in a sea of soft languor, their heads bend, and their hands move responsive to the measured melody. And now that the old enchanter sees that he has fairly charmed his serpents, and stroked his tigers, he breaks off like a bird in midsong, and handing round his battered hat, smiles as the small coins chink musically together.

WOMAN'S DEVOTEDNESS; OR, THE WIFE OF THE PALATINATE.

MANY

ANY will remember a very affecting instance of conjugal devotion which was detailed in the newspapers of 1855. The heroine was the wife of a poor man, who, having been dismissed from an English infirmary in cureless agony from chronic rheumatism, longed eagerly to get back to his native village. The only means of conveyance, however, he could afford the common carrier's cart-was not to be thought of: it would have tortured him to death; and the devoted wife took her husband on her back, and carried him, over rugged country roads, full fifty miles. This goes quite beyond the spasmodic strainings of romance; yet it is far outstripped by another instance of the heroism of conjugal love, equally well authenticated, although it occurred two centuries ago.

In the year 1621, at the commencement of the Thirty Years' War, the rich province of the Rhinepfaltz, or Palatinate, was overrun by Spanish troops, who with lawless license plundered and destroyed wherever they came. The princely abbacy of Hirt, about two miles from Germersheim, on the Rhine, was one of the most desirable spots in the whole province, and its widespreading domain afforded occupation to a numerous staff of stewards, bailiffs, herds, plowmen, and foresters. Twice a year the Pfaltzgraf, or Count Palatine, held court at Hirt, whither he repaired with his princess-Elizabeth, daughter of James I. of England-to enjoy the deer-stalking in summer, and to hunt wild boars in winter. On St. Peter's day each year his head

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steward or bailiff, a gentleman named Christopher Theim, rendered to the pfaltzgraf a statement of his accounts, which showed a yearly return of many thousand rix-dollars. Herr Theim was married to an amiable lady, named Catharina Herpin, and was a man of considerable wealth and property, possessing several estates at Neustadt, Wachenheim, Rockenhausen, and Hachdorff, besides houses and money. All the estates belonging to Herr Theim had embraced the Protestant faith, and consequently they, as well as the secularized abbacy of Hirt, did not fail to attract the rapacious eyes of the Spaniards, who ruthlessly claimed and seized whatever seemed desirable. They broke open cabinets and coffers, feasted on luxurious dainties and rich wines, and, within a very few days, had rifled the whole place. To these outrages the steward opposed what resistance he could, endeavoring, as in duty bound, to protect to the utmost of his power the property under his care. This interference being regarded by the lawless soldiery as a presumptuous infringement of their rights, they seized the bailiff, and forced him to swallow a liquid poured from a silver cup, which immediately paralyzed his whole body. His muscular and robust frame became powerless; his sinews contracted so that he could not move a limb; he could not even stand without assistance, and his digestive organs became impaired.

Catharina Herpin, his wife, viewed his helpless state with dismay; but, apprehensive that something worse might befall, she determined to fly from the scene of danger. Secrecy was necessary to insure safety; the use of a carriage could not be obtained; and to add to her difficulty, she had two young daughters whom it was expedient to take with her. In these trying circumstances, Catharina resolved to depend solely on herself. She fastened her husband's powerless arms around her neck, and, with a little girl at each side, she hastened onward toward the Rhine. A sympathizing fisherman ferried her across the river, and on the opposite bank she entered the recesses of a forest, where she remained three days. At the end of that period, hunger compelled her to proceed, and with increased burdens and diminished strength, she slowly advanced by stages along the road. First carrying her helpless husband, in the same manner

as before, some distance in advance, she set him down in an easy posture on a grassy bank by the wayside, and returned to bring her children. With one of these in her arms, and dragging the other wearily by her side, she traversed the same ground for the third time, till she reached the spot where she had left her husband; then changing her load, she advanced in the same painful manner another stage, and so continued till in a few days she arrived with her triple charge at the town of Rheinzabern, to the astonishment of the admiring populace. The sufferings and privations of the journey proved too much for the young girls: their piteous cries for food while on the road had been incessant, and had pierced their mother's heart with anguish; but a sharper thrust was in reserve for this courageous woman. Though received with kindness by the inhabitants, and provided with shelter and food, the children survived only two days, and then died in the arms of their mother. Public admiration having been excited, an allowance was granted to the family, which proved a valuable assistance; but the paralysis of Herr Theim's whole frame continued unalleviated. Every effort made to subdue it proved fruitless; and the only method by which nourishment could be administered to him, was to introduce it into his stomach through a quill.

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The only effect that increasing trouble had on Catharina was to elevate her courage and intensify her devotion to her husband. Though unaccustomed to bear the gaze of curiosity or the drudgery of burden, she overcame her natural repugnance to these, and determined to pursue her journey to Strasburg, in the hope of enjoying better medical advice. cordingly set out, with her helpless husband fastened on her back, and made her way-a distance of ten German, or fortyfive English miles-to Strasburg. her arrival in that city, her case met with the same kind consideration and help as formerly; and her husband enjoyed the gratuitous advice of an eminent physician, who enjoyed a salary from the town. This doctor, after careful examination, pronounced the recovery of the invalid to be hopeless, unless he could be conveyed to the Swiss baths at Baden on the Aar. Nothing daunted by the length and difficulty of the route, this indefatigable woman at once determined to undertake the jour

ney, and having again saddled herself with her precious burden, she started on her wearisome pilgrimage. At each town through which she passed, she seems to have sought out some medical man, from whose advice she hoped to gain some useful or consolatory hint; and even in the face of bitter discouragement from some of these, she persevered. At Neuburg, thirty miles from Strasbourg, she consulted Dr. John Melscher; and at Ensigheim, eighteen miles further on, she consulted the town doctor, both of whom affirmed that her husband's life would not last a week; but her hope was proof against despair; and with indomitable perseverance, she pressed on her way.

The old chronicle from which these particulars are drawn, enters minutely into the details of her progress. At Russach, ten miles further than Ensigheim, the household physician of the Archbishop of Strasburg again held out hopes of ultimate recovery, and confirmed the advice on which she had resolved to act, by pointing to the Swiss baths as the most likely means of improvement. At Gebsweiter, ten miles further along the Rhine, an old physician was consulted, who also spoke favorably of the baths, but gave it as his opinion that, if they failed to effect a cure, sudden and speedy death would probably result. The next stage of Catharina's progress was across the river forty miles, to Freiburg, where she consulted the famous Dr. Fedderer, and placed her husband under his treatment for eight weeks, but without any perceptible improvement. For eighteen weeks now, Herr Theim had been unable to receive any nourishment, except a little wine or soup introduced into his stomach through a quill, and nothing had been found which could afford him any relief. Before leaving Freiburg, however, a slight improvement was effected by means of a desperate kill-or-cure remedy, suggested by a brother-in-law of Dr. Fedderer. But it was too slight to alter Catharina's resolution to carry her husband to the Swiss baths. Still forty miles further on, at Rheinfelden, she consulted two eminent practitioners, and was gratified to find, even on the borders of Switzerland, that the baths of that country were thought likely to be beneficial. With elated hopes, she persevered, and soon bore her beloved burden into Baden. Here she immediately began to apply the rem

edy she had come so far to seek; and for eleven weeks she carried her husband dayly from their lodging down to the baths, and back again. The spectacle of a woman thus devotedly nursing her husband, and the report that she had in this manner carried him from the Palatinate, surrounded her with a halo of interest in the eyes of the inhabitants, many of whom paid her visits; and a few of the richer or more generous sent her presents, which she faithfully applied to help her husband's recovery. By slow degrees, he began to amend. In the course of a few weeks, he was so far improved that he could be fed with pap and other spoon-nourishment; the necessary diet being kindly supplied by the Princess of Furstenburg and another sympathizing lady, both of whom frequented the baths at the time. The next step in his improvement was the acquisition of sufficient strength to stand without support; but every attempt to walk without assistance, even with the aid of crutches, proved futile, as the want of muscular power in his hands prevented him closing them, so as to hold anything. His body, however, continued to appear little more than a skeleton; and when in the bath, he floated on the water, as the old chronicler relates, like a piece of cork.

The expenses of their long journey, medical fees, medicines, and their living at the baths, soon exhausted what little money Catharina had scraped together from the bounty of friends, or saved from the plunder of their property, and she was at length compelled to leave Baden. Allured by the fame of a Jewish doctor at Stanz, a town seventy miles distant, she bent her steps thither. On reaching the town, this physician having his attention drawn to her, became interested in her case, and promised her relief for her husband.

The prescription he gave her, and the manner in which it was acted upon, afford a striking illustration of the progress of the medical art in the seventeenth century, and the superstition which attached to it among the people. The doctor directed her to take a calf, and, having cut its throat, to preserve the middle blood. This, mixed with vinegar and salt to a consistency, she was to use as a liniment, and rub her husband's limbs with it dayly for four weeks. He also gave her a small bag, containing a slip of paper inscribed with Hebrew characters, which the patient VOL. XI.-3

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was to wear for a time round his neck. The good woman, fearing that the use of the first of these remedies might prove hurtful in some way to her faith as a Christian, resolved not to try it; but she carefully suspended the amulet from her husband's neck, and kept it there. Though, as the old record says, "she in her simplicity rejected the most natural remedy to take the improbable one," yet, probably from the influence of former means, her husband in fourteen days had made some progress in his recovery.

From Stanz, Catharina continued her journey onward to Rupperschwyll. In order to reach this town, she had to climb two high mountains, named respectively the Sattel and Etzel mountains; and while passing the latter of these, an accident of an extremely dangerous character befell her. It was a long day's journey; and in order to reach Rupperschwyll before nightfall, she started with her burden at five o'clock in the morning, and traveled almost the whole day without rest or refreshment. As she was descending the opposite side, she was seized with a fainting fit at one of the steepest parts of the road, and falling, she rolled a considerable distance down the slope, with her husband sometimes uppermost and sometimes below her. She contrived at length to steady herself by grasping some bushes; and in this position she remained, till a good Samaritan, who was passing, came to her assistance, after having invoked the Holy Mother and Saint Anna. He first relieved Catharina from the danger of choking, by cutting the bands that fastened her husband's arms round her neck, and he then removed the patient to a more secure spot at a little distance, where he laid him in an easy posture to wait till his wife should be able to resume the journey. After a brief rest, she again took up her burden, and late at night arrived at the long, narrow bridge, known to tourists who have visited the charming scenery of the neighborhood; and reeling as she was from fatigue and exhaustion, she passed along its whole length-full two miles-without accident, though undefended by parapet or rail.

From Rupperschwyll, the journey was continued through Herisau, the capital of Appenzell, to Constance, where medical advice and a curiously compounded bath effected no further improvement in Herr

Theim's health. From Constance, the banded pair bent their steps toward Bavaria, through Ravensburg and Meningen a route which, even at the present day, with all the appliances of modern travel, is wild and dreary enough. The object of their visit to Bavaria seems to have been to claim payment of a bond for seven hundred gulden, (about three hundred dol lars,) which a former duke of that country had granted in happier days to Theim's father. They found the representative of the debtor, Duke Maximilian, of Pfaltz Neuburg, at his residence Neuburg, on the Danube ; and on presenting their demand, they were coolly told that the duke had not at that time sufficient money at his command, as he was engaged in building a convent for a company of Jesuits; but when that was finished, if he had enough left, he would then liquidate the bond. It is to be hoped, for the credit of humanity, that the princely debtor, when he gave this reply, knew nothing of the devotion of the woman whom he spurned; but the contrary seems probable, for the inhabitants of the ducal manor, on hearing that the pilgrim pair were sufferers for their Protestant faith, refused them even the common rites of hospitality.

At Augsburg, a Protestant town, sixty miles from Neuburg, a medical man of great celebrity again advised the baths at Baden, from which the first decided benefit had been derived, as likely to facilitate complete recovery; and, accordingly, the indefatigable Catharina turned to retrace her long, painful journey through Suabia and Switzerland. On her way, after traversing about one hundred and forty miles, she consulted the headsman or executioner of St. Gall-a functionary both trusted and dreaded for his sympathetic cures-probably in the expectation of receiving some amulet or charm. He, however, prescribed bleeding; but as she regarded this as too severe a process in her husband's weak state, she declined to permit it. After a rest of three weeks, she pursued her toilsome way, over similar mountains to those which had formerly cost her so much trouble, to Zurich. At Schaffhausen, about thirty miles further, where there was a Protestant community, every house was gladly opened to receive and shelter a martyr to the faith. Cheered, and perhaps materially assisted, they pursued their way to Berne, and thence to the healing

springs of Baden. Here at length, after a renewed course of bathing, the longtried Theim found relief from his sufferings, and his affectionate wife enjoyed the reward of her toil in seeing her husband so far recovered that, with the support of a staff, he could walk alone.

Having recovered so far, he seems to have been unwilling to remain longer a burden on the charity of his Protestant friends, and therefore determined to seek out the pfaltzgraf, his master, in whose service he had suffered so much. The prince was living at this time at the Hague, in a state of dependence on the States-General of Holland; and accordingly the route of the affectionate couple lay through the entire breadth of Germany along the Rhine to Cologne, the whole of which distance they traveled on foot. From Cologne, they took a boat to Utrecht, whence the distance to the Hague was short. The result of their application to the pfaltzgraf is not stated; probably his allowance was barely enough for his own wants. At all events, we find our unfortunate pair shortly afterward again traveling southward. They had got as far as the fortress of Wesel, when, from some defect in their passports, they were turned back, and retired to Amsterdam. Here, under the best medical treatment, a complete cure was effected; and here, accordingly, the chronicler concludes his narrative. Some idea may be formed of the devotion and endurance of this courageous woman when it is stated, that she carried her husband on her back one hundred and seventy-two German, or about eight hundred English miles, over hill and dale, across rivers, and through manifold dangers, and that their pilgrimages occupied a term of about three years, animated by the one hope that his health might be restored. We do not know whether there is another instance of selfsacrifice and patient, untiring devotion on record that can compare with this; and we may add, that the history of their wanderings is said to be vouched by trustworthy evidence, and that the fact of their residence in Amsterdam in 1624 is clearly ascertained. At the peace of 1648, the pfaltzgraf was reinstated in his dominions, but we know not whether his faithful steward, with his tried spouse, ever returned to receive again his post and his property.

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