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noticed that the youth walked steadily out of the room.

Rosalie wore a full bloomed rosé: as she was leaving, I begged for it. She extended it playfully, but I shrank as I bent to kiss her hand, for her breath, as it issued through her roguish smile, was tainted with wine. How could she indulge in it! At midnight I was aroused by a loud howl. At first I thought it came from a dog, but after listening sometime, became convinced of its human origin. It was soon followed by, scuffling. After a while the noise ceased. François made his appearance.

*Don't be alarmed, Monsieur, it is only M. D’Elamére in a fit of liquor.' 'Shocking! does he always howl when he is tipsy ?' · He is one brute, Monsieur, and the young lady • Proceed.' • Is a little, a little — ah • Yes, a little tipsy sometimes.'

Oui, Monsieur, so they tell me below. Three of them have died that way.' * Any female


them ? • One sister, Monsieur.'

Horrible! You may go, François. Three of the family, and yet the old people can abide the presence of liquor

-ay, and drink it in their presence.

What a world this is !' I could sleep no more, but arose early, and strolled out to an old tower near by; it was a remnant of Roman power. As I leaned against a tree, comparing the sprightly, sensual Rosalie with the spiritual, exalted Anna, a light laugh above startled me from my reverie. It was Rosalie; she was looking down upon me through a loop-hole in the tower. Her brother stood beside her, gloomy and pale. I bowed coldly. She perceived my coolness, and gliding down the ruined staircase, came to my side. Placing her hand on my arm, she whispered :

'I must beg you to forgive us for the noise that disturbed you last night. My brother is subject to cataleptic fits, but he is better than formerly; much better since we came here. We are from Bordeaux ; but grandpa came here hoping to benefit Felix.'

She paused for a reply.

• I was at first startled,' said I, “but was not much disturbed. I sincerely hope your brother will recover. His disorder is not contagious, I trust; it would be grievous for you to be similarly affected.'

• Not at all, Monsieur,' she unhesitatingly replied, “my health is admirable. Felix, Felix, do not stand so near the edge !'— she darted from me to her brother, who proved intractable. I hurried to her aid. Felix was beside himself again. Catalepsy affected him in an unusual manner; he capered, screamed, and howled. In one hand he held a quart bottle of alcohol, which he had smuggled in his pocket. I was obliged to call for help. A couple of peasants came to th

rescue. The bottle was wrested from him, and he borne howling home. That night he died a raving maniac, with the vulture Alcohol tearing his vitals. He was buried. His sister put on mourning, which became her well, looked very serious a couple of days, but on the third forgot all propriety, and was carried intoxicated to bed.


I had stepped up to François's room, which happened to adjoin hers. As I was leaving it, imagine my amazement at meeting a group bearing in their midst the senseless form of Rosalie.

'She has fainted,' whispered the wrinkled old dame to me.

Catalepsy ? asked I, utterly disgusted. She bowed assent, and I waited until they had entered the room; but before I reached mine, a deep grunt saluted my ears. François came with lights, dried fruits, and wine.

• Take it away,' I cried, pointing to the latter. "Poor, wretched Rosalie — lost, doomed!'

The next morning, as I descended to breakfast, I met the old man. He looked at me, bowed sadly, and was passing on. I followed, wishing to draw him into conversation. He placed his arm in mine, and we sallied out. For some moments he was silent; tears coursed down his furrowed cheeks.

· Ah, dear Sir,' said he, “it is sad to see the young cut off in so foul a way. My poor Felix had fine abilities once, but liquor destroyed every vestige of himself before you saw him.'

I listened attentively. One of this family was truthful; I respected him. He perceived it, and continued :

• The same fatal taste pursues Rosalie. Her good constitution buoys her up, but it will soon break. Ah, me!'

• It were better for her to die,' said I.

• Far better; but I have a project in view to save her. I shall try to get her into an insane hospital. There is one near here. If I could ask your

assistance.' Certainly,' I replied, I will aid you in any way.'

Before we parted, all was arranged for the consummation of his plan. Sympathy had caused me to forget every selfish consideration. Upon reflection, I almost regretted my precipitation. It was too late to retract. The next day Rosalie met me with smiles. I invited her to take a jaunt. With delight the young inebriate acquiesced.

My horses were fleet, and the good grandpa grateful. The old lady, evidently indignant at not being invited, endeavored to prevent Rosalie from going, but the beauty was resolute. We rode through a charming country, and stopped at the gate of a charming chateau.

Superb!' cried Rosalie. Prepare for a surprise,' said I. We alighted and entered. A man conducted us to a gallery filled with paintings and statuary; from thence a female invited her to a chamber to prepare for dinner. She kissed her hand to us as the door was closing behind her. I never saw her again. We returned to the dame, who was informed of all. Her rage at first was great, but at length she yielded to necessity. The old man returned to Bordeaux, to settle his affairs. In his absence the wife died suddenly. I afterward received a letter from him, informing me of his second marriage, and of Rosalie's improvement. I kept trace of them several years, and one bright day received a letter of thanks, in a female hand, and sigued by the now free and permanently reformed Rosalie.

She remained three years in the asylum, then returned to her grand

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parent, married well, and by her deportment testified the gratitude she so warmly felt. She often wrote to me. Once I should have thought death a mercy to her, but it was not without deep regret and many tears that read the obituary of Rosalie D’Elamére.

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'T was a soft morn of Italy; the sky
Vied with the blue that charms in Beauty's eye;
And the light rack, if seen a moment there,
Mocked you again, and melted into air ;
The hill, the vale, the wood and woodless place,
Laughed in the mirror of Celeno's face;
And the young trees that overhung the rocks
Flung to the amorous air their summer locks;
And to his mate the wild bird sung his song,
And the deer gambolled as he passed along,
And gayest insects hummed away the hours,
And roved and revelled in the sweetest flowers;
Nature looked sweet, for naught was wanting there
To give completeness to a scene so fair.
Say, whose the outstretched form that calmly slept
By the rude water ?
That water, falling, dashed its silver sheet
With fearful noise a road's length from his feet;
And yet he slept, or seemed to sleep, as sound
As if soft music lulled him all around.
His was a splendid figure; until now
I had not seen so very pale a brow :


if in the gazer's room,
'T was like the marble on a monarch's tomb :
With its pale hue his hair contrasting well
In dark, but not unlovely tresses fell :
The sunbeam partly on his visage flashed,
And showed his mouth, half open, and moustached,
But on his sleepy lids obtruded not,
To break the charm that chained him to the spot.
A female 't was his mistress — watched above,
And smoothed the dark locks of her bandit love:
One while she eyed him with a glance, wherein
Softness and sweetness might have pled for sin ;
Now would she raise it, lightening into flame
To where the bleating of the chamois came.
But see, he wakes, and leaning on her arm,
Repays her burning lip with lip as warm ;
Presses her young and passionate breast to his,
And for a timę forgets what now he is.
Who of the many that have seen and praised
The rocks and crags Salvator's pencil raised,
Know not that even in manhood he who drew
Linked the sworn brother of a bandit crew :

Herded with those who to the bread of toil
Preferred to live by rapine and by spoil.
Now at a distance from the savage haunt
Of men whose bravest deeds he scarce can vaunt,
He, all enamored of a peasant's charms,
Forgets his degradation in her arms.
Say, does THERESA, while she smooths his hair,
Know that a bandit's tresses are her care ?
Ah, no! One evening, near the crystal flood,
When with her pitcher in her hand she stood,
Rosa beheld her, and in hunter's guise
Wooed her with honied tongue and speaking eyes ;
And though they often since that hour have met,
She only knows him as a hunter yet.


The annual commencement of Columbia College was celebratea this year

under the influence of the bracing atmosphere and cheerful sun of a bright October day; and such days as our October owns are no where else known. The ceremonial was all the more striking and effective by reason of the beauty of the season; the hot and sultry month of July has usually been the period of this commencement. The change is decidedly a good one.

The Church of the MEDIATOR in Eighth-street was the place of the exhibition; and although the hour of ten was that fixed for the beginning of the exercises, there was a press for admission before nine o'clock.

The students, trustees, and faculty of the college assembled with their invited guests at the Sunday-school building attached to the Church of the MEDIATOR in the Fourth-Avenue, and walked thence in

procession to the church, the students in advance. Arrived at the church, these faced inward, and the faculty, trustees and guests passed through the ranks, which then closed, and entered the church. When all were seated, the platform showed an array, larger than has been usual, of eminent men, assembled to testify their interest in the celebration. The Governor of the State, Hamilton Fish, an alumnus of the college, had come from Albany in order to be present. Mr. Bancroft, distinguished as a historian and diplomatist, and not less as a school-master, was there, and beside him several other school-masters, a class whom it is the interest, as we know it is the particular aim, of the President of the college to honor; for they are the men whose influence upon youth is greatest, and who, therefore, are especially entitled to prëeminence on all occasions, where the honors acquired by scholarship and conduct are to be awarded. Among the school-masters on the platform we noticed the Nestor of them all, the Rev. Edmund H. Barry, D. D., who for nearly half a century has been training youth in classical studies : Marlborough Churchill, of Mount Pleasant Academy, Sing-Sing; Mr. Onderdonk, of the Academy at Jamaica, Long-Island, and Mr. Sherwood of this city. The Professors of the University were there, the Presidents of the different medical colleges, the President of the Historical Society, Brigadier-General Whiting, Quarter-Master of the United States Army who adorns arms by the cultivation of letters; Honorable J. A. King, member of congress for the first district, state of NewYork; Honorable J.G. King, member of congress from the fifth district, New Jersey, and a large number of the clergy of all denominations. Not less flattering to the students and their instructors was the array in the church, filled as it was to the utmost capacity with an audience of both sexes, earnest, intelligent and attentive.

Upon an invitation from the President, appropriate prayers were said by the Rev. Dr. Haight, and then the speeches of the graduating class were delivered in the following order :

First. Greek Salutatory Poem,

GEORGE F. SEYMOUR. Music. March from Oberon.

WEBER. SECOND. Latin Salutatory Address.

GEORGE G. BYRON. Music. Evening Star Waltz.

LANNER. THIRD. English Salutatory Address.

John S. B. HODGES. Music. Airs from Lucia.

DONIZETTI. FOURTH. An Oration, Quid ad te pertinet ?

Edwin W. EDWARDS. Music. Good Night.

GUNG'L. FIFTH. An Essay on The want of Veneration in American Character.' WALTER R. T. JONES. Music. Flute Solo.

F. RIETZEL. Sixth. An Oration on · The Philanthropists of the Nineteenth Century.' FREDEIC R. COUDERT. Music. Elesire d' Amore.

DONIZETTI. SEVENTH, An Oration. The Bible in our Free Schools.'

J. F. DELAPLAINE CORNELL. Music. Marche Sentimentale.

LEACH. EIGHTH. A German Oration. Uber den Einfluss der Offentlichen Meinung.' A. F. CUSHMAN. MUSIC. Stradella Polka.

HERZOG. NINTH. An Oration on Fanaticism.'

CHARLES A. SILLIMAN. Music. La Venetiana.

JULIEN. TENTH. An Essay on ‘Misunderstood National Characteristics.'

ADOLPHE LE MOYNE, JR. Music. Falstaff.

NEGRI. ELEVENTH. An Oration on · Dependence of the American Character.' WILLIAM H. TERRY. Music. Pot Pourri, (Fille du Régiment.)

PERROT. TWELFTH. An Oration on “The Century's Thinking.'


AUBER. THIRTEENTH. An Oration. The World's True Rulers.'

MALCOLM CAMPBELL. Music. Cornet Solo. (Il Pirata.)


These compositions were, generally speaking, free in a great degree from the exaggeration of language and sentiment which are almost proverbially the characteristics of commencement speeches; and some of them denoted maturity of thought above the years of the speakers. They were, too, well delivered.

The Greek and the Latin oration, the former a poem in Iambics, the latter in prose, were exceedingly creditable to the scholarship of Messrs. Seymour and Byron ; and the German speech of Mr. Cushman came trippingly off from the tongue, as though he were using his native language.

The music, under the charge of M. Aupick, was well chosen and well executed, though perhaps somewhat too loud for the building, which is not a large one.

At the close of the speeches, the testimonials to the more distinguished students of each class were declared and delivered.

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