ODD-FELLOWS QUARTERLY MAGAZINE (Manchester).-The October number is more than usually rich in well-written and agreeable articles. Who is Oliver Fernleaf? Commend us to his philosophy, and so much of his pleasant nature as we find in the little paper, entitled, A Sere Leaf.” Listen to him, readers: 66 Time of its servants the life-boat crews, the records | boat, boat-house, transporting-carriages, and of its active utility, and of their unfailing for- equipments are found, requires an annual outtitude, have forced themselves into public lay of fifty pounds to keep it in a state of effifavour, and made the name of the Life-Boat ciency, not only donations and contributions Institution a household word, not only in the but annual subscriptions are greatly needed and home, but in communities of the people. I see earnestly desired. While we write, the frethese (as perhaps I have previously observed in quently-recurring tempests, and the accounts of bygone papers on this theme) represented in frightful shipwrecks on our shores, second too the list of the names of the life-hoats, "The painfully the need of larger means of succour. Free-masons'," "The Commercial Travellers'," The executive of the institution are equal to any "The Forresters'," "The Odd-fellows'," which extension of their duties of mercy, and the body have been subscribed to, I should imagine, by of brave men in their service, by the force of members of almost every profession and craft; human sympathy and admiration for brave and and besides these whole townships appear-from noble deeds, propagandists of their own attriOxford, Manchester, Ipswich, and many others, butes. All that is required to strengthen and to Birmingham No. 2! It is this fact of co- increase the power of this life-saving institution operation in the great cause of humanity that is an increase of funds, contributions to which has carried the name of the institution far and will be thankfully received by all bankers, in wide-from the coast-towns to the ones inland, town or country, and by the Secretary, Richard from the metropolis to the remotest village, and Lewis, Esq., 14, John Street, Adelphi. has made its cause so dear to the national heart. C. A. W. No longer left to flourish only on the offerings of the rich, everyone is beginning to be of use to it, and to feel that personality (if I may so express it) in the heroic bravery of the crews, and the sea-worthiness of the boats that the constituent feels in the prowess of his representative, or the soldier in the courage of his commander. And, depend on it, whenever the daily papers (alas, too frequently!) carry into the heart of sooty Birmingham or fluffy Manchester the news of some poor foundering or cast-away ship's crew being saved by the boats, to whose efficiency masters and workmen have so nobly added, the exultation of pitying pleasure glows as warmly as the forge fires, and resounds through all the clamour of anvil and machinery. Of all the numerous gifts to the society, whose splendid income is as magnificently disbursed (and looking at the constellations of wrecks marked by the asterisk on the wreck-chart) with yet so many dangerous points upon the coast, bespeaking increased outlay on its part, to save the lives in peril of them, these gifts of the general public seem to us most precious, marking, as they surely do, a practical result of Christian teaching and of a growing civilization. Next to these in interest, are the contributions offered as memorials of some beloved one, whose name, by a fiction of love, survives in the acts of utility and mercy, with which the life-boat connects it. The list of bold, adventurous deeds on the part of the life-boatmen, are even more numerous than usual; and, alas! so are the records of lost ships. But, wherever the calamity has occurred within signal of a life-boat station, through hurricane and rushing sea, and the thick darkness of superadded night, she has never needed willing hands or manly and merciful hearts to guide her to the place of danger, and, at all hazards of personal safety, to bring a freight of saved lives to land. Looking along the irregular coast-line of the terrible chart before us, we see that many more boats are required to complete the desired cordon of aid around the British Isles. But as each station, after the hear the soft footfall of approaching twilight, and am cold." The hair about my temples stirs to the slightest breath of wind, now, like the flossy down of the "clock posy," and silver threads are beginning to shine among the relics of youth's auburn curls. I can hear invisible minstrels fingering those gleaming strings to plaintive ditties of decay; and, thank heaven, I can listen to the pensive melody without sadness. Here and there we find a turn of thought or expression, a mingling of grave and gay, that reminds us of Elia, as when he observes: Being blessed, too, with an unusually strong constitution, I am just of that age when a man is unwilling to think that he is growing old; and is, therefore, in danger of treating himself as if he was as young as ever; indeed, I feel vigourously inclined to be five-andtwenty all my days, if it could be. But the chequered years have told their tale, and nature will not be cajoled. The heyday of the blood waits upon the judg ment now, and every hour something befals to remind me that I have almost crossed the open ground between two eternities, and am drawing near to the edge of the great forest, whose shades absorb us all. A thousand little things repeat the story of declining change with more impressive tone from day to day: I feel a growing interest in stockings, over-coats, and mufflers, and am beginning to look out for rain be- and antipathies. An original poem by Eliza fore I venture from the household. We shall hope to see more of this writer's lucubrations. "A Story of the First French Revolution," by W. Aitkin, P. Prov., G. M., promises to be very interesting, and is spiritedly told; and Mrs. Linnæus Banks continues her pleasant series, entitled, "Lodges in the Wilderness." H. Owgan, L.L.D., contributes a little paper, "Spiritual Manifestations," not in the usual acceptance of the phras, but as regards "those tendencies and influe..ces of which highly organized human beings are more or less conscious"-presentiments, sympathies, Cook, and "How we Did the Righi," by Y. S. N., are pleasant additions to the lighter part of the number, while Mr. Spray's paper on the "Manchester Unity, and the Duty of its Members," is one of considerable interest to Odd-fellowship, and Mr. John E. Taylor's "The Earliest Chapter in the World's History" is the wonderful story of creation, from the scientific standpoint of a practical geologist, told in the simplest way, but with an amount of evi dent power well kept in hand. These supply the needed balance, and enable us to pronounce this an exceedingly well-composed and highly interesting number. THE THEATRES, &c. SECOND VISIT TO "FORMOSA." On a better acquaintance with " Formosa," now running so successful a career at the Theatre-Royal, DRURY LANE, we have become empressed with the now evident completeness of the form and setting of this very remarkable drama of the realistic school. If " Formosa" is not a particularly orthodox play, or quite obedient to the dramatic unities and traditions, it iscertainly never dull, and never leaves the attention flagging for want of exciting incident and variety of character. The Traviata element pervades the whole drama, but, we repeat, there is abundance of incident, situation, and character combining to form a lively picture of "fast life," such as does exist under exceptional conditions, in certain phases of society. The dramatist has proved, moreover, that he possesses the powers to awaken our sympathies by the vicissitudes of life he depicts. There are pathetic pictures of erring frailty and suffering humanity in "Formosa" which appeal strongly to our feelings. The scene where the poor, but honest, parents of Formosa confront her suddenly in her splendidly furnished cottage ornée at Fulham, and detect her in her shameless life, is true to nature; and its effect upon the audience was striking, its pathetic interest proving intensely strong. Such a powerful scene as this the old dramatists would have made the foundation of a play in itself! Again, the other scenes "leaning to Virtue's side," in which Dr. Doremus, the old Oxford tutor, with his family and pupils, take part, are very naturally delineated. The reformation of the returned "ticket-of-leave man" by these means is brought about in an exceedingly pathetic, touching, and interesting manner, and nothing could be more natural than this-the virtuous phase of the otherwise eccentric play of "Formosa." NEW DRAMAS PRODUCED DURING OCTOBER. Managers have met with some discouragement of late in their efforts to thrust as much sensational drama as was in their power upon the public. Three elaborated new melodramas have been produced at three of the principal theatres, only one of which has proved quite successful. The new drama of Messrs. Boucicault and Byron, entitled "Lost at Sea: a London Story," with which the ADELPHI reopened, with much " trumpeting," early in the past month, has been pronounced to be but a feeble production of the kind of drama it was intended to represent; and notwithstanding that Messrs. Stirling, Belmore, and Atkins, and Miss Rose Le Clercq appear, certainly this novelty has not drawn great houses. Mr. Boucicault, or Mr. Byron, or both, had taken care to collect the usual variety of specimens of the rank flowers of new novels and old melodramas to form a strangely odorous bouquet of Adelphi drama in the piece called "Lost at Sea;" but the opinion of those to whom this new mosaic work of art was offered seem to have early recognized the deceptiveness of the workmanship, and to have subsequently despised it accordingly. The PRINCESS's theatre reopened a fortnight ago with a new melodrama, redolent with the convict element which has proved so attractive to metropolitan audiences since the great hit made at the Olympic a few years ago with "The Ticket-of-Leave Man." However, the example of this class of piece presented at the Princess's has not proved quite so successful, notwithstanding that the caste was supported by the presence of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Mathews. We conclude that "Escaped from Portland" did not succeed, as we fiud that the theatre closed shortly after its production; but it is only fair to observe that a domestic bereavement of Mr. Charles Mathews' (the death of his mother, Mrs. Charles Mathews, sen.) may have deprived the new piece of its main pillar of support, and hence caused its collapse and the consequent closing of the house. "Escaped from Portland" was very efficiently and effectively put on the stage, and uncommonly well acted by Messrs. C. Mathews, G. Vining, Mrs. C. Mathews, &c., but an anticlimax of a highly amusing description to some, but of a highly distasteful kind to others, was created by calling upon an eccentric light comedian like Mr. Mathews (who in his style of acting is almost as light as a feather, so to speak) to impersonate the "heavy villain" of a coarse melodrama of the old "Coburg" complexion! The OLYMPIC theatre has re-opened, with a new company and a new drama, both of which have proved to have been exceedingly well selected. The principal novelty relied on by Mr. W. H Liston, the new manager of the Olympic, for the achievement of success, is a dramatic version of Charles Dickens's most popular of novels, "David Copperfield," entitled in the play-bill "Little Em'ly." We reserve any criticism in detail of the new piece, merely stating here that the novel of "David Copperfield," as treated by Mr. Halliday, to costitute the play of "Little Em'ly," has proved a mine of valuable materials suitable for the purposes of the drama, and a permanently popular piece has resulted to the fortunes of the Olympic. We are glad of this, because the Olympic has had to contend with immense competition of late, the rising-up of two or three new theatres in its immediate vicinity. At the GAIETY, a new comedy has been produced, entitled "A Life Chase," the combined work of Messrs. Oxenford and Horace Wigan. It is an avowed translation and adaptation from the French, and lacks those forcible situations, variety of character, and smartness of dialogue which the public taste of the hour expect will be provided to gratify its somewhat jaded appetite. Mr. Alfred Wigan has returned to this house, and, playing the principal role of "A Life Chase,' has lent to it the charm of his fine acting; without which, indeed, we believe the piece would have been found dull, even though Miss Farren still remained to sustain its principal female character. But it must be allowed, in all fairness, that although some may not admire the new comedy (or comedy-drama as it might be termed), the Gaiety possesses so many enjoyable surroundings to its usual bill of fare, that dulness cannot exist in so gay an atmosphere. | The costly manner and tastefulness with which the pieces of this house are furnished forth insure infinite pleasure, at least to the eye itself, however the "mind's eye" may come short occasionally of receiving complete satisfaction. An opera buffa as a lever de rideau, a four-act comedy to follow, elegantly put upon the stage, and a splendid burlesque on "Linda of Chemouni" to conclude, constitute amusements which must prove all sufficient even to the fastidious tastes of Gaiety playgoers. The new AMPHITHEATRE, Holborn, has re-opened its doors with an entirely new equestrian company, whose performances possess the recommendationsof being, besides astonishingly skilful, at the same time elegant and graceful as feats of horsemanship and acrobatic agility. But the début of the performing monkeys the other evening has capped all the other performances by the surprising exemplification of wisdom and acuteness in the genus ape that has now been brought forward. The comic element of the circus, id est, the clowns of the ring, are the most efficient we have as yet seen in London; and we cannot doubt but that the Holborn Amphitheatre will meet with the prosperous season it so well deserves. The HAYMARKET has opened its familiar portals with a new comedy, entitled "New Men and Old Acres." It is written by Messrs Tom Taylor and M. Dubourg. We reserve further notice of the Haymarket till our next feuilleton. The LYCEUM has been opened by a new lessee, Mr. Allerton, the tragedian. The pieces selected have been "Still Waters Run Deep," in which Mr. Wyburn Reeve made his first appearance as George Mildmay with great success. Since the first week, the tragedy of Hamlet" (with Mr. Allerton as the philosophic Danish Prince), has been acted several nights in succession. The elegant ST. JAMES's theatre has been taken by a new and enterprising manageress, Mrs. John Wood (an American lady), and was opened on Monday week with an excellent company, comprising: Miss Herbert, Miss Henrade, &c.; Messrs. Mark Smith and Barton Hill (American débutants), J. G. Shore, L. Brough, Gaston Murray, &c. Goldsmith's humourous old comedy of "She Stoops to Conquer," has been acted frequently, Miss Herbert being the Miss Hardcastle. The HOLBORN theatre having unsuccessfully experimented upon public opinion with a new comedy of Modern manners, entitled "Plain English" in its English dress and "Les Parisiens de la Decadence" in French, has fallen back upon the old British stock drama. The "Gamester" of D. Moore was produced on Monday week with considerable success, chiefly arising from the effective style in which Mr. Barry Sullivan enacted Beverley, and Mrs. Herman Vezin impersonated the disconsolate wife of the gamester, Mrs. Beverley. The beautiful play of "The Lady of Lyons" is promised to be early forthcoming on the boards of this well-managed theatre. Mr. Barry Sullivan, we perceive, prides himself upon the completeness and brightness of his mise en scene, as well as upon the pure literature of the dramas he produces. At the new ROYALTY we were glad to make acquantance, a few nights since, with an admirable new burlesque extravaganza founded on the fairy-tale of "Beauty and the Beast." Messrs. Dewar and Danvers, and Miss Oliver invested this production with infinite spirit by their talents. E. H. MALCOLM. The blow fell suddenly, and the young husband and father was stricken down ere the smallest provision had been made for the future, stricken down in the morning of his years, ere his loins were fairly girded for the battle of life. A young, frail, inexperienced woman, now a widow, and three little ones, were left behind, penniless and friendless. In a city hot-bed, Margaret Mason grew up daintily. She had been taught the fine arts of dancing, flower-painting, and the like, could play a few pieces on the piano with passable skill, and had some little knowledge of the French language. From the time she was seventeen, she went into company. For the most part, her days passed idly, or in the next thing to idleness, novel-reading; while her evenings lapsed pleasantly away in making visits or receiving visitors, with now and then the more exciting diversity of the play, opera, concert, ball, or party. The twin ideas of use and duty came not to distinct perception in her brain; she lived to no purpose but to enjoy. Was she of wealthy parentage? No. Had she large expectations in the future? Nothing of the kind. Margaret Mason was an orphan, and dependent on a kind but not wise relative, who brought her up as too many girls are brought up in our large cities. He gave her a showy superficial education, dressed her as well as his means would allow, and put her in the way of getting a start in the world by marriage. Young men only just a little better fitted to enter upon the stern, hard work of life are generally won by the small attractions of just such girls as Margaret Mason. In the present case a clerk, whose moderate salary of two hundred a year had scarcely met his own wants, was the one found captive in the gossamer web of our young enchantress. His name was Albert Leslie. They were married, and with a small flourish of trumpets. There were presents, partygivings, and wordy congratulations, and then our young adventurers on the sea of matrimony were left to steer their own course in life and enjoy its sunny days, or do battle amid its storms. Margaret went forth from the home of her relative, where she had been tenderly cared for since the days of childhood-went forth with her young husband, never again to return. Death soon after entered that home, removing its founder and stay, and its members were scattered like shrunken leaves by the winds of autumn. We will not write of the young bride's first sombre experiences. They came, as they come to all who trust life's precious freight in frail vessels and upon unknown seas. At the end of three years, her husband, who had proved unfortunate in a business venture, resolved to go to America. Margaret, now the weak, exhausted, nervous mother of two children, had scarcely energy enough left for objection, could she have fully comprehended all that was involved in such a movement; and so the step was taken. Their destination was Chicago, where Leslie was promised a clerkship in a forwarding house. In this new world, the young wife and mother was lost. A few articles of furniture brought from home, enlarged by some additions made at the point of their destination, enabled them to commence housekeeping in a small tenement far away in the suburbs, at a rent that would consume nearly half of Mr. Leslie's salary. The house was guiltless of modern conveniences, and the almost helpless young wife soon found that the new world into which she had intruded was quite as guiltless of other aids to comfortable housekeeping. And now, with Mrs. Leslie, life's battle commenced in earnest. Love for her husband and children made strong a sense of duty; and, weak and unskilled as she was, she accomplished wonders in the way of creating home comforts out of the slender materials that lay in such unpromising shapes around her. Not half of her time was she able to retain a servant; and so, in the intervals, her small, delicate hands came in rough contact with tea-kettle and washingboard. If the duty was hard, wearisome, and exhausting, the frail young woman did not shrink away from it, nor even sit down and fold her hands to weep for a season. Love was very strong in her heart, and, for the sake of her beloved ones, she held not back; and so the little household never lost, in her husband's eye, its look of order or air of comfort. And, if Margaret's face wore often an aspect of weariness, or was pale and languid, it showed nothing of peevishness or discontent. The strange eyes that caught an occasional glimpse of the pale little woman moving about her house or gliding along on her way to market or the store, guessed nothing adequate as to her daily trials, nor the amount of heroism it required to meet them. A year after their arrival at Chicago, another child was born, making the number of human blossoms three. It was just six months from this time when Mr. Leslie sickened and died, leaving, as we said in the beginning, a young, frail, inexperienced woman, and three little ones, penniless and friendless, Almost literally was this true, for the salary of Mr. Leslie has proved barely sufficient to meet their daily wants. He did leaving his family nothing but their clothes and the scant furniture the house contained. A little while, the strickeu wife lay stunned and prostrate; the dead cannot wait, and so all the solemn ceremonials went on, even to the burial. A few sympathizing neighbours offered words of comfort that came with no meaning to the mourner's ears, and then one after another retired, and the bereaved woman was left alone with her orphaned little ones. Bewilderment succeeded. The very stay and support of their lives had been suddenly removed, and what now remained for them but to lie down and perish by the way? The blackness of darkness gathered over the mind of Mrs. Leslie. She looked upwards, there was no light; she strained her eyes into the surrounding gloom, but could trace no path into which her feet might venture. From this state the sharp spur of inevitable necessity quickened her half-stupefied mind into intense activity. Just one week from the day on which her husband died, Mrs. Leslie had a visit from the owner of the house in which she lived. The rent of this house was twenty-six pounds a year, and, as the landlord had no outside security for its payment, he thought it prudent to look somewhat closely into the widow's condition and prospects. He was a coarse, straightforward man, who loved money, and knew both how to gain and how to take care of it, but was not, for all that, heartless. After speaking to Mrs. Leslie of her late bereavement in as appropriate terms as he knew how to use, he put the abrupt question : "What are your prospects, madam?" Prospects? How? What?" She did not clearly understand him. "Business is business, madam," said the landlord, and I am a plain, staightforward man. What I wish to know is, whether you are in circumstances to pay the rent of this house; it is, as you know, twenty-six pounds a year.' Mrs. Leslie's face grew pale instantly, and she gasped once or twice for breath. I have not come to trouble you, ma'am," said the landlord, whose rough heart was touched by the image of distress before him, "but to speak of things as they are, and thus, may-be, save you from some trouble in the future. Try to compose yourself, and look the present right in the face. The rent of this house is a twenty-six pounds; if you are able to pay it, and wish to remain where you are, I have not a word of objection to make. How is it, Mrs. Leslie ?" "God help me!" ejaculated the miserable bursting into tears. "I am penniless woman, and friendless!" The landlord waited until the poor widow grew calm, then he said: "I will not press this matter upon you to-day. Think over your situation and prospects, and to-morrow your mind will be clearer. I will call in again, and then we can arrange about your removal." The landlord arose, and was passing towards the door, when Mrs. Leslie aroused herself with a strong effort, and said: "Oh, stay, sir, stay! No good can come of waiting until to-morrow. Speak out what is in your mind; I can bear to hear it!" The landlord turned and resumed bis seat. "Of course, sir I am not able to pay the rent of this house, for I have no income. But where can I go? what can I do?" "If you can't afford to pay your rent, of course I can't afford to let you live in my house. I should soon go the dogs at that rate." Something of the roughness of the man's nature was apparent in his manner. It was as well, perhaps, for it acted as a spur to rouse the young widow's feelings, and thus give her thoughts their needed activity. "I have no wish to remain here, sir," she replied, with forced calmness and some dignity of manner. "I would sooner die with my children than live on charity. Give me a few days to look around, and I will then move away, and restore your property into your hands. How much rent is now due?" "A month's rent is all the claim I have, but that I will cheerfully waive under the circumstances; and beyond this, ma'am, if you want my aid or advice in anything, they will be cheerfully given. You have more furniture here than you will need in a smaller house. Sell what you can spare; it will bring a good price, and thus secure a little to subsist upon until you can get into the way of earning something. What can you do?" The straightforward landlord's mind went right to first principles-to the "What can you do?" as the only hopeful basis of living in the world. Mrs. Leslie was silent. What could she do? Ah, there was indeed the great question. Her music was forgotten; she had not been in the way of practicing since her marriage. Her French had been a mere superficial ornament; she could not teach French. Painting and drawing were a part of her routine at school; but what she had learned of these was of no practical use to her now. She was a trifle skilled in fine needle-work and embroidery; plain sewing she had learned since she becaine a mother. Her thoughts passed all these resources in hurried review, but there was no promise in them. "What can you do?" The landlord repeated his question. "I can trust in God," said the desponding widow, with as much firmness of voice as she could throw into the words. "A poor dependence without effort, let me tell you. God helps those who helps themselves." "And those who are willing to help themselves also." "It is about the same thing," said the land |