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"That! it is worth thirty sous !' said Rodolphe, casting a contemptuous look at his friend's discovery.

* Thirty sous well employed will do a good deal,' answered Marcel. • With twelve hundred men, Bonaparte made ten thousand Austrians surrender. Skill makes up for want of numbers. I shall go and sell this crown of Charlemagne to Father Medicis. Is there nothing else to sell here? Suppose I take that cast of the Russian drum-major's thighbone. That would bring a heap.'

* Take it along - but it's a pity. There will not be a single object of art left.'

While Marcel was gone, Rodolphe, determined to give the party in any case, went to find his friend Colline, the hyperphysic philosopher, who lived two doors off. 'I am come to beg a favor of you,' said he: ‘in my quality of host I must absolutely have a black coat. I have n't one. Lend me yours.?

But,' replied the other, with some hesitation, in my quality of guest I want a black coat too, I do.'

'I will allow you to come in your frock.' “You know very well I never had one.'

"Well, we can arrange it somehow. If it comes to the worst, you may lend me your coat and not come to the party.'

That won't do at all; for I am on the programme, and therefore must be there.

* There are a good many other things on the programme that won't be there,' said Rodolphe. Lend me your coat, at any rate. If you want to come, come as you choose - in your shirt-sleeves — you can pass for a faithful domestic.'

No,' rejoined Colline, blushing, “I will wear my hazel over-coat but it's a great bore, all this.' And as he perceived that Rodolphe had already laid hands on the famous black coat, he called out, · Wait a bit; there's something in the pockets.'

Colline's coat deserves particular mention. In the first place, it was of a very positive blue, so that its owner used to say 'my black coat,' merely from a way he had. And as his was the only dress-coat belong ing to the association, his friends had also fallen into the way of saying, when they spoke of the philosopher's official garment, 'Colline's black coat. Moreover, this garment had a peculiar cut, the most bizarre possible; its very long skirts, attached to a very short waist, were furnished with two pockets, perfect abysses, in which he used to stow a score of volumes which he always carried about with him; so that his friends said that when the public libraries were closed, the literary public might apply to Colline's skirts, where a library was always open.

That day, for a wonder, the coat contained only a quarto volume of Bayle, a three-volume treatise on the Hyperphysic Faculties, one volume of Condillac, two of Swedenborg, and Pope's Essay on Man. Having emptied his portable library of these, Colline allowed Rodolphe to put it on.

Eh !' said the latter, this left pocket is very heavy still; you have left something in it.'

* True,' said Colline, “I have forgotten to empty the foreign-languages

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pocket.' He drew out two Arab grammars, a Malay dictionary, and a Chinese guide, one of his pet-books.

When Rodolphe returned, he found Marcel playing at pitch-and-toss with five-franc pieces to the number of three. At first he was ready to reject his friend's offered hand, thinking he must have committed a crime to get the money.

Make haste! make haste!' cried Marcel. We have the fifteen francs rēquisite-even thus : I found an antiquary at the Jewis. When he saw my coin, he all-but fainted; it was the only one wanting in his collection. He had sent all over the globe to fill the gap, and had lost ail hope. So, after carefully examining my crown of Charlemagne, he did not hesitate to offer me five francs for it. Medicis pushed my elbow, and completed his explanation by a look, as much as to say, 'Share the proceeds, and I'll bid against him. We went up to thirty francs ; I gave the Jew fifteen ; here is the rest! Now let our guests come! We are in a condition to astonish them. Hallo! you've got a dress-coat!'

Colline's coat,' said Rodolphe. He felt for his handkerchief, and brought out a little volume of Manchou, which had been forgotten in the foreign-languages pocket. The two friends proceeded to their preparations immediately. The room was put in order; a fire lighted in the stove; a canvas-frame garnished with candles was hung from the ceiling by way of chandelier; a desk placed in the centre to serve the orators for tribune; and before it the only arm-chair, destined to be occupied by the influential critic. On a table were arranged all the essays, articles, poems, and novels, whose authors were to honor the party with their presence. To avoid any collision between the different departments of literature, the four sides of the apartment were hastily labelled : POETS.

The ladies were to sit in the middle.
'Ah, but we are short of chairs !' said Rodolphe.

Oh,' said Marcel, there are some along the wall on the landing. Let's borrow some.?

Certainly we will,' quoth Rodolphe, going out to appropriate the neighbors' chairs.

The clock struck six; the friends made a rapid dinner, and hastened to light up their rooms. The effect astonished themselves. At seven, Schaunard arrived with three ladies, who had forgotten to bring their jewelry or their bonnets. One of them wore a red shawl with black spots. Schaunard commended her particularly to Rodolphe.

"She is a very respectable person,' he said; "an English lady driven into exile by the fall of the Stuarts. She supports a modest existence by giving lessons in her language. Her grand-father was Chancellor under Cromwell

, she says; so you must not be too familiar with her.' Several steps were heard on the stair-case. It was the guests arriving. They seemed much astonished to see fire in the stove. As soon as there was a score of people assembled, Schaunard asked if it was not time to take a drink of something.

In a minute,' said Marcel. We are waiting for the arrival of the influential critic to kindle the punch.'

By eight, all the guests had arrived, and the programme began to be


executed. After each entertainment the company took a drink of something, nobody could tell exactly what.

About ten, the white waist-coat of the influential critic made its appearance. He only staid an hour, and was exceedingly temperate in his libations.

At twelve, as the wood was all gone, and it began to be very cold, such of the guests as had chairs drew lots for who should throw his into the fire. By one o'clock every body was standing.

An amiable gaiety reigned throughout this memorable evening, which was a nine-days' wonder in the neighborhood. Schaunard's friend Phemy, who had been the queen of the party, used to say of it to her friends, 'It was real splendid, my dear : they had lots of wax-candles.?

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In the early summer evening,

When the glorious sun has set,
And the stars are gently gleaming,

In Night's hall of beauty met;
When the balmy breeze blows gaily,

Toying with the laughing leaves,
And the cricket chirrups shrilly

To the swallow on the eaves;
When the robin chants his vesper

With the black-bird and the thrush
High up in the spire-like poplar,

În the calm, clear evening's hush;
And the forest-trees stand stately

In a dark and rustling rank,
While the violet sedately

Breathes forth perfume from yon bank,
By the babbling, bubbling streamlet,

As it ripples o'er the stones,
Harping on the starry beamlet

With its thousand tiny tones;
When the darkness dewy-drooping

Is so slow in coming on,
And the day-light lingers, stooping

To the embraces of the sun;
When the bride of haughty heaven

With unconscious beauty beams,
While her smiles are sweetly given

To the meadow-lands and streams;
Then I wander forth delighted,

And my fancy flies afar
Back where all the hours are lighted

Rosy with the hopes that were:
Then the forms of the true-hearted,

All the loved and lost of yore
Who have silently departed

To that far, still, unknown shore;
All appear as angels watching,

Guarding all my wayward ways;
Guiding, cheering, and protecting,

As the stars with constant gaze.

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“Then we questioned not the meaning

Of the wonders that we saw ; Nor beyond the outward seeming

Sought to find the hidden law.

'Then we followed not the phantoms

That allure the after years; Heard not then the syren-voices

That our later manhood hears,

'Let us seek our ancient quiet,

Let us leave the crowds of men; Leave the tumult of the battle,

And renew our youth again!

• Like a mighty flowing river

Rolls the restless passion-tide :
Let us leave the rushing current,

Linger by the grassy side.

'From the quiet and the stillness

Of our sheltered, calm retreat,
We will watch the whirling eddies

Breaking madly at our feet:

'And the heart shall keep its freshness,

And the light of life's young day,
With a chastened, softened glory,

Shine upon our evening way.'
Great-Barrington, May, 1853.

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“There is surely nothing so beautiful in the grave itself as to make it the most fitting depository for our bodies. Build monuments and wreathe garlands; let the sad cypress wave above them, and the flowered turf rest lightly on their bosoms; let soft winds sigh upon their resting-place, and gentle rains make green the field of death, and still beneath are corruption and the worm.'


In looking back upon the past, and reviewing the scenes of an adventurous career, my memory most often recalls the events of student-life. Mine has been no flowery path. In that hard struggle begotten within me by the conflicting elements of ambition, recklessness, and poverty, I have been tossed about whither I know not; and now, in the quiet and rest of this more peaceful time, I while away many hours of loneliness, in recalling the strange chances that have befallen me. Of all these, none have left so deep an impression as the grave adventures into which an ardent and enthusiastic pursuit of anatomical science beguiled me.

Sometimes the wild clangor of battle comes to me on the southern breeze from the far-distant plains of Mexico; and I hear again the buglecall, the rolling of the drum, the sharp crack of the rifle, the heavy firing by platoons, the deep booming of the cannon; and, more than all, that wild, infuriate yell with which our volunteers charged upon the enemy. God! what a sound was that! That cry once given, and they were no longer men. They were incarnate devils, and they rushed upon death with a shout,

As all the fiends from heaven that fell

Had pealed the banner-cry of hell!' There was something terribly sublime in the solemn silence in which our regulars went to the charge. The quick martial step; the firm, unbroken dicipline; the steady fortitude; in all this, there was that which left me awe-struck and trembling. But in the rush of our volunteers; the fierce impetuosity of their advance, when, as they neared the enemy, they broke

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