1850.] If the Union be dissolved, what will become of our Flag.—A Morning with Cagliostro. 743 By the blessing of God, he succeeded in remo-but death only can dim the bright image of femving all my remaining doubts and difficulties re-inine loveliness, which my soul has caught from specting the christian faith. I was almost per- thee. Henceforth thou art my heart's model of suaded when I parted with you; but I would what is sweet and pure in woman. Others I not suggest hopes on that subject, until I should may see fair and affectionate, virtuous and holy; be fully persuaded. Now my faith in Jesus of but none can take thy place. I am wedded to Nazareth is my chief consolation; and the elo- remembered beauty. Alas! all but the memory quent and pious friend who won me finally to of thy charms is lost to me: once more and forChrist, has also gained so much of my esteem ever, farewell, farewell, sweet Judith Bensaddi ! and affection, that I have after much hesitation accepted his offer, and we are betrothed. Now, my dear preserver, hear the last request of one whom you once tenderly loved, and whom no changes can release from her obligations to you. of our Flag? Oh what will become of that flag when we part? Should you ever find that I or my friends can do If the Union be Dissolved, What will become you any sort of service, I intreat you, by the remembrance of our voyage together, and by all the love that you may still bear me, to let us know it. Call on me,-or if death should have taken me away-on my father or my sister-for all the assistance that you may need. The half of my fortune I can easily spare, and would rejoice to impart to a friend whose disinterested kindness and essential service to me, I can never repay; but I shall thank Heaven, if an opportunity be given me to prove that I am, and will ever be your grateful and devoted friend, JUDITH BENSADDI. Has abandoned that wreck to oblivion and shame? When that banner of glory forever is furled, Rather heap its proud trophies! and over them cast A MORNING WITH CAGLIOSTRO. OF A CONVERSATION WITH EXPLANATORY. MR. Before I had finished reading, my eyes grew dim. Self-reproach for my unjust suspicions aud my fatal procrastination, wrung my heart. The knell of departed hope boomed on my ears, as if the gentle murmur of the river had swollen to the roar of a cataract. I fell back and lay in a stupor of astonishment at my late blindness of heart, and at the unrolled scroll of my hapless destiny. I was for sometime prostrated, soul FROM NOTES and body at the astounding revelation. When I recovered strength to rise, the sun was shooting his rays horizontally from mountain top to mountain top! The turtle dove, from her withered tree in the field, was cooing forth her evening lamentation. Shades almost as gloomy as my soul were thickening around me. Frantic with grief, I called to the dark-frowning rocks and to the waters that were rolling by, to pity me. made the echoes respond to the name of my Mr. Jenkins has always been a favorite with loved and lost Judith. One while my perturbed us-partly from his entertaining reminiscences imagination pictured her looking down on me of "many lands," but more especially from his from the cedars of the cliff, and illuminating my amusing eccentricities, which are a never-failing dark retreat with the love-inspiring radiance of and never-ending stimulus to curiosity in his her countenance; then her fairy image seemed friends. How far and how long Mr. J. has travto be floating off in the air, and to beckon its sor-elled over this sublunary ball, it would, we imagrowful adieu, as it faded away, and was lost in ine, puzzle any one besides himself to say. That the gloom of descending night. And now, farewell, sweet Judith Bensaddi! Time may soothe my anguish, and mitigate my passion to the soft feeling of a mourner's love; We were much pleased on our return to Richmond in the latter part of 1848, from a short trip northward, to find on our table one morning a card bearing in bold black letters, on a ground of irreproachable enamel, the name of Mr. JOSEPH JENKINS. he has been in the East, in Egypt, in Germany, France, Holland, Great Britain, South America and the Sandwich Islands, we take to be a wellascertainable fact, from a simple view of his surroundings, when he has for a short period de- discussed, and Mr. Jenkins shone in all, Such termined to arrest his wanderings and sit momen- a fund of wit, sarcasm and scandalum magnatarily under his own vine and fig-tree. On these tum, was never found out by mortal man before. occasions his studio is a perfect curiosity-shop. The conversation at last settled down on Paris Knives and cigar-cases from India and Borneo, and the Parisians, for whom Mr. J., with the rings and bracelets from Ceylon, parchments prejudices of a veteran traveller, avows a decifrom India, Moorish yataghans, chiboques and ded liking. He has mixed with all classes in the burnous from Barbary, fans and shells from the great metropolis, that is plain. This knowledge Suuda or Marquesas Islands-these are only a of character in politics, literature and general sopart of the innumerable "traces of travel brought ciety, could only be gathered by personal obserhome," which Mr. J. has stuffed in his capacious vation and experience. How the lions of the valise. French capital passed in review, from Lamartine, the sentimental poet of "Young France," to the myriad writers for the Vaudeville theatres! On the present occasion, Mr. Jenkins had halted in Richmond, as much, we flatter ourself, to renew his acquaintance with us, as for any other In his comments on these personages, Mr. J. reason. He had always found in us an attentive seemed to speak with a philosophical indifferlistener to his traits of travel, and the implicit ence, in accordance with his old maxim, that a credit we gave to his narrations so flattered our traveller "cannot afford to love or hate," but he friend, that a simple acquaintance soon ripened spoke in the highest terms of Paris and the Painto a decided intimacy. In all his recherchés, risians, as soon as the conversation touched on quaint and rococo tastes we shared, and when the "appliances and means" of physical comfort. some story, more than ever singular, was related, To all this we had nothing to say, but on the in which he himself was the hero, no word of subject of French character, we replied to Mr. doubt, that curb-rein to the "travelled man," es- Jenkins, that in our opinion the French were a caped our lips. Having thus detailed in a brief nation of humbugs-brilliant ones, but still hummanner our relations towards this curious char-bugs, if that term might be applied to characters. acter, we hasten to say a few words of explana We called his attention to the litterateurs and tion, introductory to the narrative given us by Mr. Jenkins. their affectations. The author of the "Wandering Jew" refused to eat so much as an egg in We found him at his multi-decorated lodgings, public, because, as he told his friends, the Jesuits in a costume very characteristic of the man, and had threatened to poison him-the real reason employed in a manner that at once showed that for his abstinence being the fear of becoming none of his old tastes had melted away in his corpulent when he could no longer play the beau. rubbings against so many "cities of men"-of This, we said, was only a solitary instance. which, be it said, he had seen many more than Lamartine acted the sensitive poet, shrinking Mr. Tennyson's Ulysses. Over his shoulders fell from the contact of each vulgar, every day, real a white Moorish burnous or cloak, and his grizzly emotion, to wrap himself in his mantle of flowgray hair, which had retreated until his bald era-ers-for the public eye. Karr acted the Eccentric nium glistened like ivory, was surmounted grace- with his black Newfoundland, Janin, the buffoon, fully by a Parisian opera-cap--his head present- doing his own wedding, Cagliostro the princely ing thus a most laughable contrast between the gentlemanyouthful jaunty covering and rusty old countenance beneath. Between his teeth was stuck a meerschaum of portentous size, and this he only removed at intervals to rise from the sofa, ou which he had thrown himself, and repulse the affectionate familiarities of a Spanish pup. At this point Mr. Jenkins stopped us laughing, and observed that “Count Alessandro di Cagliostro was one of his most intimate friends, and really a very fine fellow. That so far from being merely the light gay litterateur he was reported, the Count was really a man of profound acMr. Jenkins showed perhaps as much plea- quirements, great learning, and had achieved sure at our visit, as he ever displayed at sight of in science and the arts great discoveries. If we any one whatsoever. He was in excellent health would bear with him for half an hour, he would and spirits his vivacity seemed even on the in-relate to us a little anecdote of the Marquis, crease with the passing years, and his fund of which he ventured to say would possess the anecdote, gossip and chit-chat of every sort was charm of novelty and refute at once our diatribe really astounding. Without a pause the con-against his friend Alexander.-"Yes," said Mr. versation ranged from history and politics, to gas-Jenkins, "the Count is ny particular friend, tronomy and the fashions. Current literature and but yesterday I received from him a package and current events, Abd-el-Kader and Taylor containing his last works-there on the table!" with their two white steeds, Kossuth, Hungary, We looked and saw "Mauleon," "Bragelonne," Polk and the Emperor Nicholas, were all in turn and "La Collier de la Reine." "A man of science!" said we, "Cagliostro a | advocate may wrong and discompose him. On my man of science !" He has achieved the greatest discovery of the age. Listen." And thus was it that resting in his chair, Mr. Jenkins related to us the incidents following. 1. THE COUNT ALESSANDRO DI CAGLIOSTRO AND GOWN. I may say, said our friend, that I have travelled considerably in my time and, first and last, seen some rather strange sights. There are those who go abroad to return and say they have seen. These individuals settle down after a few years into professions, or become farmers-content to ride about their farms, read their newspaper twice a week, and vegitate in undisturbed repose. The devil! Such a life On the honor of Jenkins it would don't suit me. kill me. honor-the honor of Jenkins-it shall never be!" And without further reflection I finished my breakfast in haste, snatched up my hat and issusuing forth, bent my steps to ward the lodgings of the Count. The well-bred porter bowed to the ground, the door glided noiselessly on its hinges, and I stopped to take in fully and enjoyingly the beautiful picture. The apartment surrounded with foils, boxing gloves and pistols, scattered in admired confusion, presented more the appearance of a fencing gallery, on a sinall scale, than anything else, but this warlike ensemble was much modified by half a dozen piles of rose-colored pamphlets reaching nearly to the ceiling-these being my illustrious friend's recent contributions to the literature of the day, of which he is the greatest ornament. In the midst of all sat or rather lolled the man I am proud to call my friend-the Count of Cagliostro and Marquis of La Pailleterie-his feet on the fender, chocolate in hand, and clad in a picturesque dressing-gown of many colors. Over his intellectual brows fell a cotton night cap, (such as he has immortalized in " • Le Véloce") In 1847, I was listening to the wolves howl-and-his brilliant eye fixed on the ceiling-he ing around Kandy, which I need not tell a man was busily engaged in dictating to three pale of your geographical learning, is the capital city young men who occupied as many desks, and of the island of Ceylon-when the thought oc- drove their goose-quills like lightning. curred to me that Paris, by way of a change, would at that moment interest and please me, more than valuing pearls, or bargaining with the Hindoo damsels for baskets of the water-flag, those light ærial affairs, one of which you see up there on that shelf. I advanced two steps noiselessly and looked over their shoulders. At the head of the first MS. was written " Memoires d'un Mèdecin,”—on the second" Souvenirs de Voyage en Italie," and on the third" Dame Bertha." "Behold!" I said to myself, "the mighty maFor the first time in my life I was ennuyèchine in motion, the manufactory working at bored, with nothing to interest me. So I said to three mind power for heartless Europe." myself one morning, "Jenkins, you are in a bad The Marquis stretched out one foot and way, you are getting wearied with all this Indian flummery. Paris is the place for you."—and to Paris I went-arriving in January in this year of Grace and Gracelessness, 1848. I was comfortably seated one morning in my snug chambers, rue de la Chaussèe D'Antin, reading La Patrie' and sipping my coffee, when my eye fell upon the following paragraph. TRIAL EXTRAORDINARY. 'Among the cases now before the Tribunal du Seine is that of the renowned novelist and historian, Count Cagliostro, and Messrs. Véron and Girardin, of the editorial corps. The Count is charged with breach of engagement to write for the plaintiffs. It is said he will conduct his own case, and plead his cause in person.' "Plead his own cause!" I repeated while sipping my coffee, "is my noble friend, the Marquis, so out of cash that he must bend his noble mind to trifles like these, wherein every rascally VOL. XVI-94 yawned. "Is it written?" said he, "Yes!--go on then." And he dictated to the first young man, whose MS. was labelled "Memoires d'un Medecin,”— "Balsamo launched a supreme and indefinable regard at this waving sea of heads which, tipped with foam in every snowy dress, came to break itself with a noise like thunder at the foot of that wall, on which he stood erect like the destroying augel. Suddenly like the Bible a voice was heard from the mass. “Good!” said the marquis, "we are getting man by the collar of his blouse as he was just know that the good Lady Bertha was accusbeing carried away into this raging ocean of hu- tomed each year to give the village a nice bowl man heads." of honey-broth, and this made the fairies love her very much, for, my children, when you do a good action, be sure the fairies will love you. They therefore began to build the good lady Bertha a new castle, and their little hammers were heard all night long tiukling, tinkling, n the stones. on. Have you finished there?" he added turning to the second amanuensis, on whose sheet was written "Souvenirs de Voyage en Italie." He nodded. "Yes! Continue then." And the Marquis with a preparatory yawn to this portion of his labours also, dictated "One morning the Baron of Hurly-thrumbo, who was such a coward that he ran away when the geese hissed at him, found one of their little "The sight of this man told me at once that he was one of those English tourists whom I wheel-barrows, and he took it up, and resting it had met at every turn, since my arrival in Italy. He turned to the guide and frowned. 666 on the back of his haud, began to examine it. Rascal!' said he in that surly toue peculiar started-began to run alone"— "What the devil are you laughing at, dog!'ed to see you my dear fellow!" And the Marsaid the tourist frowning. quis cordially embraced me with both arms. "You come from”— "India directly-America indirectly." "The two countries of all others I have a passion to visit-but I'm charmed de vous voir,— enough mes enfants! you can go breakfast. I shall be ready in half an hour. America!" he added to me, interrogatively, "from America?" "Precisely." "That's Mount Vesuvius, illustrious signor.' seen them all-banquetted on their streets,' as "Mount what?' "Vesuvius, milordo,' replied the lazzarone, unable to restrain a slight shake in his voice. your illustrious Shakspeare, says. I am blasè so far. But America! the great republic! the nation of the stars!" said the Marquis becoming This mirth raised the Englishman's wrath enthusiastic. "I have never visited it or viewed to the highest pitch, and lifting his huge gold- its cities, as well becomes so great a traveller as headed cane he brought it down on the irreve-myself. rent lazzarone's shoulder with the strength of Hercules. 66 66 Why the devil then don't you come ?” said I. Mordions! my dear Jenkins!" cried the Mar "Milordo owes me a crown,' said the cice-quis, "you are cracked!” rone, calmly rubbing his injured shoulder, 'that is the tariff for a blow.' Cracked? did you say cracked?" "Certainly! Why not?" I listened with astonishment. This story I was obliged to confess outstripped all which my friend, the marquis, had ever related of the English, but the dates, the place, all was given-and any one who doubts, thought I, will probably graut!” have his doubts for his trouble, while all Europe is laughing at the representative in Italy of perfide Albion. Meanwhile La Pailleterie had passe 66 You! the author of Antony,' in jail for a vagrant." "Or turn me out of the cars." The author of Monte Christo,' turned out of the rail cars!" 66 on, yawning, to the young man whose MS. was labelled "Dame Bertha,” and was dictating— What do they know over there of my books “Now, my good little children, you must all parbleu !" What do they know ?" "Have these trifles been imported ?" "Imported and translated." "Then, my dear Jenkins," said the Count in that tone of diguity so characteristic of him, "if I am asked to certify to the honesty of your publishers. I must really decline saying anything on the subject. I must beg leave !" “So you see your reputation has gone before you." "I am a quadroon-my color would accom- obstacles-to excite admiration-to be great in pany me." the eyes of mankind-you comprehend?" "Perfectly, Marquis.” “Nonsense." "Stay-read this letter from Crisis. how unlucky. "You have lost it ?" "Gone to light Montpensier's cigar." "And its contents?" I asked. Peste! "But America to her destiny. Here we have been chatting away about foreign affairs, and neglecting those at home. What's stirring?" The very devil!" "Ah, yes!" said the Marquis, "we learn as "Do not think of coming,' it said. your much, I think, from the Scriptures!" arrival would cause an insurrection.'" "Ha, ha, indeed!" But this matter of your trial, Count?" "So you see I can never go. And yet my Why here you are going to be tried for breach spirit yearns for that enchanting land. America! of something, and you're obliged to plead your beautiful America!" added La Pailleterie, throw-own cause. Why in the name of the seven sleepers didn't you send a note to me?" ing his fine eyes mournfully on the ceiling, "I could make a volume of every State-what do I say? parfandions, of every city!" "My dear," said the Count, throwing himself into an attitude, it is my destiny to be distin "Then you would meet with so many clever guished in all things-my manifest destiny,' as "Precisely. And not Americans alone. Englishmen! 'tis Bulwer! voilà la Lucrèce." But imitation is the fate of genius. I do not complain, my friend.” And the Marquis drew himself up with an air of noble resignation to his fate, which, if thing, added to my respect for his genius. "Then others," said he, "the Book of the Iron Clasps'-all, all!" general Brass of your glorious republic says. I "And you are prepared Marquis-perfectly at your ease?" I said, surveying this singular man with deep interest. "Entirely tranquil," said he. "I have not thought of it even," said the Mar My dear friend, I understand what you would say-that time is elastic. True. But between this and to-morrow I have five romances to wind any-up in as many papers, and moreover half a volume of Les Quarante-Cinq,' to write. Now I am a pretty powerful machine, my dear friend, but the wheels can only turn with a certain velocity. It still, in this age of discoveries, takes one a certain number of minutes to pen a chapter. That Quarante-Cinq,' is my bane. All was arranged for the death of Anjou at the end of the second What! Marquis. You remember all these" Not at all, my dear Jenkins. To say the truth, 'tis as much as I can do to recollect the names of my own books." 6 "Stop, then," said I, "here you are writing volume, but of course his poisoning was obliged |