blood, they would fly again to the grave, as a place of refuge, and proclaim the country had lost its civilization. - They would imagine that mankind had returned to their savage state. I do not understand the terms of High and Low Church. Evidently there is something significantly level about buildings heretofore used as worshiping assemblies, the one made a den of politicians; the other a museum for India wonders. The fact of transformation ought to be placed among the wonders, to gratify the curiosity of this wonder-seeking age. A model of each should be numbered in the Patent Office at Washington, as the evidence of progress in the sciences of Religion and Morals.

The Dutch language has been most savagely murdered; barbarously transformed on the one hand, while on the other, that reared its modest body in simple contrast beside a modern magnifico, in place of the truth, we have preached, China and her antiques. It may be that these have much to do with missionaries.

While the world lasts the golden calf will be worshiped. The spirit of increase will be found in every time that is honored with man. When that "image of interest " shall have wended his way down to his last home; when he shall have gotten "enough" of life's feast of gold; when he shall stoop under his heavy burden of riches, and is obliged to shuffle off all before he gets to the "halt,"-then shall the world see the dawn of the morning of regeneration.

The man that found gold should have found contentment with it. It is a bone of contention thrown to us dogs, men. Those who have it, are rogues by nature to do any thing to keep it; those who have it not will do as much to get it; there is no difference in honesty between poor and rich. It is an evil spirit; a poison-"doing more

murders in this loathsome world," than any calamity that ever yet befell it. Full of insanity, it goes about the world making idiots, knaves and sinners of all.

CHAPTER XX. !

HANS after some tender surveys, essays on "the better halves" though Julius Schnap presents his compliments to the readers and desires to say, that he does not fully agree with his friend, Mr. Van Garretson.

Women (as the toast says, God bless 'em,) were born for some other purpose than to hang upon our left arm. Dutchwomen were made expressly to wear each about a thousand petticoats, that distended them like some joy. ous dame in a curtesy to please the young folks, or an everlasting big plum pudding with head and shoulders. It is astonishing how different the women of this generation are formed to what they were in old times, yet we must exclaim so we go," for even mankind has been patenteà and improved upon. There is not a stitch left in the old garment; new things have come upon us like a summer cloud and pass away with the same rapidity.

The ladies (I forgot myself) are a wonderfully curious set of beings; old Dutchwomen were plain enough to understand, while no man can cipher out these new fashion mongers; they would dodge the shrewdest mathematician; they could not remain silent long enough to induce a philosopher to calculate, and yet curious as they seem to be, the world would be still more curious without them. Man would be a solitary devil, an over-burdened mule, and this kind helpmate relieves him in a measure from his burden; she interposes as mediatrix between him and his afflic.

tions, and while without her he would not have courage to meet adversity, with her aid he overcomes all troubles; she is to him Atlas, bearing up against a world of misfortunes; yet again, they are mere butterflies that like to change their fashions with the seasons, a kind of rampant, unmanageable animal, that come not under the jurisdiction of your finger. Buffon is silent as to their genus, and Goldsmith skips over them; yet again, they are an evil so necessary, that they are an acknowledged good; and yet again, nothing but a rib; and yet again, a commodity that no honest man would wish to be without; "a sort of something-nothing."

Take her in any sense, she is a mysterious being. She is to be found out only by instinct, or in the natural way ; attempt to study her and you are in the maze of a labyrinth. In fine, were all the people of the present age wiser than Solomon, one woman would out-wit them all.

Doctor Paley thinks mankind were made upon the principle of a watch; but there is nothing yet invented, with which woman can be compared, and that learned philosopher very cunningly declined to liken her. A man loves her, he can't tell why; he feels he is only half made up, and longs after his other half. His two hands evidently were designed to clasp two other better hands, and he is discontented till he has found his match. She is called the better half; she may be better or worse: she is too often made worse than she is found, by those who promise more than they perform. Yet women in the time of the Dutch, were magnificent creatures; they were a little more than one rib; they were most awfully plump, and astonishingly lively-capable of enduring the greatest fatigue, and one of thein would weigh down two of the burgomasters. The reader may ask why? Because Heaven was particularly bountiful in flesh to the Dutch damsels; where a dozen ladies are created now-a-days-Heaven created then one only.

The mankind-market was not then glutted as now. I speak in reference to "Niew Amsterdam.” Dutchmen were pearls, Dutchwomen diamonds.

There was no turning sideways to enter doors; they were perfectly round--they did not try to divide themselves to make themselves look pretty-old and modern beauty are not to be contrasted.

They were exactly what Heaven desired women should be--they were not created ladies, with prim fingers and pretty faces, with coatings of starch and powder; but as the man with "broad brim white hat" would say, they were things to thank Heaven on, and Heaven was thanked for such right-arm companions.

I well remember, and can never forget the day, I fell in love. I saw my intended early of a bright Dutch summer morning, eclipsing the sun; she smiled--her forehead jutted out from a fine silky thicket, and ran beautifully sloping to her brows; on either side of her beaming stars glittered a most exquisite smile and cheered these well meaning satellites in their work; then that indescribable promontory, looking like a brisk mountain-goat seeming ready to dash headlong, and suddenly retreating until it came in contact with her ruby kissing machine, that, so inviting, led her countenance still onward to a fine tapering chin that seemed come chuckle me." I thought I heard it; hastily, perhaps too hastily, I seized the little half-O! no, she was monstrous-half intended for me, and carried her to Church -what a weight--" my bones ache to think of it."

to say,

Did these days consist in substance of old Dutch what they do in numbers-the earth would creak on its hinges, it could not bear the weight of so much mortality. They were giants in those days. But they are gone! Old Father has shaken his farewell with them; he has buried his rene

gade, short-lived years in the dust; the past is entombedit hangs full of the cobwebs of the antiques, and we need some grand halting day in which all the generations of the world may take new breath, and the world be dusted-then we may jog on again in safety.

CHAPTER XXI.

MNEMOTECHNY.-Hans' conclusions about this great science; duly considered and weighed in a just balance.

"My father-methinks I see my father:
Where? In my mind's eye."

I believe in everything; my credulity is as wide-spread as the earth's surface, and is as cordial in its embrace as ivy to oak. Mnemotechny is a philosophical birch, that arouses the sleeping and snoring memory, and, according to its doctrinal points, a man must remember everything before he can think of anything. It is considered a science, that stirs up the recollection, and makes a man figure out in his brain the living symbols of whatever he wishes. It is a scientific digging in the patches of the past, to bring up what is buried; a raking of the tombs, or a winnowing of the confounding chaff from the clean kernels. Like the panoramic scene exhibited to Macbeth, in the witches' cave, as the symbols pass before us in our memories, we must of course think of every material cir

cumstance.

Although I admit our forefathers' brains were not perplexed with such a science, yet, I as freely acknowledge, I never see an olekoke, a bottle of schnap, a pipe, plum. pudding, or a cabbage, but that I am reminded of so many absolute Dutchmen,