did. He was a great patron of literature and the fine arts, and was a

munificent friend to Virgil. Who can he be?"

"I can tell you, without asking my question," cried Tom. "Augustus was eminently the nephew, and succeeded his uncle, Julius Cæsar, in the Empire. He was reigning at the time of our Saviour's birth, and of course lived in the year one: every thing fits--he's the man."

"You are right. Now 'tis your turn, brother Tom."

"The first of the English poets--who wrote splendid poetry, if only one could read it. 'Tis such hard, tough, jaw-breaking English, that it is little wonder his very name shows we must use the muscles of our mouths when we attempt it. He lived soon after the time of Wickliffe, and imbibed some of his ideas. Who can he be?"

"Who but Chaucer?" said Cornelia. "Now who is the hero who was almost elected King of Poland, but who lost that honor through the interference of a queen of England, unwilling to lose the brightest jewel of her crown by parting with him? He is mortally wounded on the battle-field, and thirsting for water. His soldiers procure some, with great difficulty, and he is about to raise it to his lips, when he sees the longing eye of a dying man, at his side, fixed upon it. 'He wants it more than I,' said he, and gave it to the poor fellow. Who can he be?"

"We are allowed three questions to an anecdote," said Alice, "but none are required here. There is only one Sir Philip Sydney. But who was the selfish queen, unwilling to have her noblest subject exalted beyond her control?"

"None other than good Queen Bess," answered Cornelia.

"And who is the poet that has immortalized Sydney's sister, in the following lines?

"'Underneath this marble hearse Lies the subject of all verse: Sydney's sister, Pembroke's mother-- Death, ere thou hast slain another Good, and fair, and wise as she, Time shall throw his dart at thee!'"

"Was it 'rare Ben Jonson?'" cried Charlie Bolton.

"Even so, Charlie: now, what have you got to say for yourself?"

"I intend to disprove the assertion of Alice, that there is only one Sir Philip Sydney. Who was that other equally valiant knight, and much sweeter poet, who used to sing his own verses, accompanying himself upon the harp; and could thereby soothe the most troubled spirit? On one occasion, this brilliant genius, whose romantic adventures might fill a volume, and who subsequently became a king, was in exile, and was hidden, with some devoted followers, in a large cave. The enemies of his country were encamped around, and lay, in strong force, between his hiding-place and the small town where he had spent his childish years, which they also garrisoned. While in this situation, cut off from all intercourse with his home and friends, his heart turned to them with an intense longing; and in a moment of thoughtlessness, he said before three of his captains, 'Oh, what would I not give, could I once more drink water from the well, outside the gate of my native town!' At the peril of their lives, the gallant men fought their way through the hosts of the enemy, and returned with the water. But the poet-warrior would not drink: he poured it out as a libation to God, saying, 'Can I indeed drink the blood of these noble friends, who have risked their lives to gratify my idle whim? I cannot do it.' Now, who can be this poet, warrior, and king?"

"Did he live about a thousand years before the Christian era?" said Amy.

"He did."

"It was the sweet Psalmist of Israel, David, son of Jesse, the Bethlehemite. Now, who is the man that long ago published a book of jests, said to be greatly studied now-a-days by diners-out and professed wits, and endlessly copied into other works of a similar character. His reputation is so high, that many anecdotes are called by his name. Who can he be?"

"Is it Punch?" said Lewis.

"How silly!" cried Harry, with the knowing look of a boy two years older: "Punch is a newspaper. Was it Hood?"

"No: do you all give it up?"

"Yes: we can't imagine who he can be."

"Joe Miller, of jesting memory."

"Now let us try another game," said Gertrude. "Of course, Cousin Mary has an endless store at her disposal."

"Let us try 'Elements,'" Mary answered. "I will throw my handkerchief at some one, calling out water, air, or earth; and the person who catches it must immediately name an animal living in or upon the element. But if I say _fire_, you must be silent. The answer should be given before I count ten; and then the one in possession of the handkerchief must throw it to another, carrying on the game. Any one who repeats an animal that has been already mentioned, pays a forfeit--except that I think forfeits are stupid things."

"Instead of that," said Charlie, "let the unlucky wight who makes the greatest number of blunders, have the privilege of proposing the first game to-morrow."

"Very well," said Mary, throwing her handkerchief at Tom. "Water."

"Codfish," answered he, tossing it to Cornelia. "Earth."

"Elephant," replied Cornelia, sending the missive to Charlie. "Fire."

"Water," rejoined Charlie, flinging it to Amy.

"Eel," responded Amy, casting it into Anna's lap. "Air."

"Eagle," cried the latter, hurling the embroidered cambric at George's face. "Earth."

"Have pity upon my poor little handkerchief!" said Mary. And so the game proceeded; and simple though it was, it caused diversion.

"Who shall be appointed to tell the story to-night?" asked Ellen. "It seems to me that Tom or Charlie, George or John should be selected; as it generally happens, 'the softer sex' has done the chief talking. Isn't it right and proper for the boys to take their equal share?"

"Oh, by no means!" answered Charlie. "It is the ladies' privilege--it would be very ungallant to deprive them of it. Besides, my trade is that of a critic, not an author: you must be aware that it is a higher branch, giving larger scope to my superior judgment and exquisite powers of fault-finding. Yes, criticism is my forte: do you tell stories, Ellen, and I'm the chap to slash them up."

"You are only too kind," replied his cousin, laughing. "After such a generous offer, who wouldn't be tempted?"

"I know you are right, sister Ellen," said Tom, "and that it is our duty to help in the entertainment of the company; but, for my part, I throw myself upon your mercy. I wouldn't, for the world, hint that we are more solid than the girls, but 'tis very certain that we are more lumbering. If I were to begin a tale, I'd flounder through it, like a whale with a harpoon in its body; while any of the girls, even down to little Anna, would glide along, like a graceful, snow-white swan upon a silver lake--happy in her element, and giving pleasure to all who witnessed her undulating motions."

"Very pretty that, Tom!" cried Cornelia. "After such a well-turned compliment, our hearts would be flinty indeed, if we didn't excuse you. But what do George and John say?"

"As for me," responded George, "it appears to be my vocation, at present, to eat hearty dinners, grumble over my lessons, skate, and now-and-then, by way of a frolic, fall into a pond. You may be thankful if I don't get into all sorts of mischief. You need not expect me to make myself agreeable till I arrive at the 'digging-up' age, that Cornelia spoke of."

"For my part," added John, "you know that I couldn't invent a story, to save my life. I've no fancy at all; and have made up my mind, as I can't be agreeable, that I'll at least be useful. Everybody ought to be one or the other."

"We should aim to be both," said Mr. Wyndham.

"But, indeed, uncle, 'tis hard work for a fellow, when he's plain-spoken and rather dull, like me. I'd prefer sawing wood, any day, to entertaining a parcel of girls!"

"That being the case," answered Mrs. Wyndham, smiling, "we couldn't be hard-hearted enough to impose such an arduous duty upon you. I appoint Cornelia to the honorable office of story-teller this evening."

"Then I bargain that I make my tale as short as I like, and that I am not compelled to lug in a moral by the hair of its head, as the Germans express it," said Cornelia. "I approve of every one following the bent of his genius, and mine is not of the didactic order."

"We certainly should not expect a moral essay or an instructive treatise from our wild little girl," replied Mr. Wyndham. "I suppose there is no danger of its being immoral."

"I don't know, indeed," answered she, tossing her black curls, and looking archly at her uncle, whom she dearly loved to tease. "I'll leave you to judge of that: I don't answer for the injurious effect it may have upon these unformed minds around me. I call my story

The Astrologers.

William Forsythe and Edward Barrington were lively young fellows of twenty, who had left their homes in the South to complete their education at one of our northern colleges. I don't think my strict uncle would call them "immoral" young men, but they certainly did not carry gray heads upon their green shoulders: they loved fun and mischief about as well as I do. They did not neglect study, and were up to the mark in their recitations; and they never perpetrated any thing really bad. They would not have intentionally hurt any one's feelings for the world; but yet, were any frolic to be carried into execution, these two were "the head and front of the offending." The grave professors, while they entertained their families at home with some of their exploits, were obliged to put on a very sober face in public, and even to hint at expulsion from the "Alma Mater," if the merry and thoughtless youngsters persevered in their course.

I must relate one or two instances which caused considerable laughter at the time, and have added to the stock of traditionary stories that may be found in every boarding college throughout our land. Contraband turkeys or geese, roasted in their room for supper, and intended for a jolly party of friends who would collect together, were, of course, quite common affairs. On one occasion, just as the odor had become very exciting to their gastric organs, and the skin had assumed that tempting brown hue betokening a near approach to perfection in their culinary operations, the watchful tutor scented out either the supper or some mischief, and rap-rap-rap was heard at the door. Every sound was instantly hushed, and the offending bird was quickly transferred to a hiding-place in the room. After some little delay, the door was opened, with many apologies; and the tutor, looking suspiciously through his spectacles, entered the apartment. "Very studious, gentlemen! very studious, I see!" he said, glancing at the array of learned volumes open before them. "Let me beg you not to injure your health by too close application to books. But what a very curious smell! one would think you had been carrying out the classical lessons contained in Apicius. Allow me to examine: ah, Mr. Forsythe, I see that you grease your boots to keep out the wet--a good precaution." So saying, he pulled out the nice little goose from a new boot in the corner, to the mingled mortification and amusement of the young men. "Suppers are doubtless agreeable things at night," added the tutor; "but the worst is, that they often leave unpleasant consequences the next morning: of course, you are aware that you meet the faculty, to-morrow, gentlemen."

On another occasion, our two heroes were out all night, exerting themselves strenuously for the public good. I suppose they thought that if some of the impediments to familiar intercourse in the neighborhood were removed, the state of society would be greatly benefited. Some such grave purpose they must have had in view; for, in the morning, when the inhabitants of the town awoke, they found to their surprise that all the gates, small and great, had been removed from their hinges, and collected in one large pile, in the middle of the Campus! To complain to the faculty would do no good: it would only raise the laugh against them. So, when any of the townspeople, or the farmers in the neighborhood, came to select their gates from the pile, the cry was given, "Heads out!" and from all the windows surrounding the Campus, roguish eyes peeped forth, to watch the proceedings; and frequently the property-owner returned, feeling very much as if he had been the culprit.

One day, a countryman drove up with a load of wood. As he disappeared around an angle of the building in search of the purveyor, our heroes approached, with a select party of classmates, weary of recitations, and longing for a change. Forsythe, whose genius for military tactics was so striking that he was dubbed, by universal consent, "the general," instantly formed his plan of attack; and, being nobly seconded by his quick-witted aids, he carried it into execution with the rapidity and decision characteristic of a great commander. In five minutes, the farmer returned, having concluded his bargain; but where was his cart, and horse, and load of wood? Nothing of the kind was to be seen; and it was very evident that patient Dobbin had, for once in his life, resolved to take a frolic, and see a little of life; or else that some rogue had gotten possession of him and his appurtenances without the formality of a purchase. The town was searched, and all the adjacent roads. The neighbors, ever ready, from a principle of pure benevolence, to take a lively interest in all that was going on, gave advice in rich profusion, and sent the poor man flying hither and thither, in vain. But, at last, the contradictory reports appeared to settle down into the following facts: that many persons had seen the cart enter the town, but that none had witnessed its departure--wherein might be traced a strange likeness to the old fable of the sick lion and his visitors. The suspicion at last became general, that the students were somehow at the bottom of it; so just an appreciation did the townspeople possess of their capabilities for mischief, that no tricks of diablerie seemed too much to ascribe to them. As the weary countryman and his sympathizing companions approached those academic shades, where earnest study and severe meditation filled up all the hours, a stir was apparent within the building; and the tramping of feet upon the stone staircase, and the laughter of many voices, told that something unusual had occurred.

With ill-disguised merriment, the worthy rustic was escorted up three flights of stairs, until, uneasily stamping upon the brick pavement of the hall, his wondering eyes fell upon his horse, looking decidedly out of his element. How came he there? Behind him was the cart, loaded with wood--not a buckle of his tackling was amiss--it looked as if old Dobbin had marched up the stairway, load and all. No one knew any thing of the prodigy--no one ever does, in such cases. The horse looked indignant, as if he had a tale to tell; but the words wouldn't come. No other witness could be produced in court; and the end of it was, that all, except the unfortunate animal himself, indulged in a hearty horse-laugh.

In what way they drove the cart down stairs, history does not mention. That was the concern of the owner and of the college authorities, and not mine nor my heroes--it may be in the hall to this day, for aught I know. But how they got up so high in the world is another matter, and I will let you into my secret, merely to convince my incredulous hearers that the thing was possible. Each of the fellows shouldered as many logs as he could carry, conveyed them to the appointed place, and returned swiftly to the charge. The wheels were now off, and ready for four of them, and the body of the cart for eight more. Forsythe and Barrington reserved for themselves the honor and glory of managing the live-stock. Slipping woollen socks over his feet, they somehow got him up-stairs with marvellous celerity; and whilst his owner was gazing up and down for his vanished property, the astonished horse was again tackled to the loaded cart, his hose were taken off, and he was left to his meditations, in solitary possession of the hall. So quietly was all this done, that, although students and tutors were in the rooms adjoining, nothing was suspected, until the horse, who felt himself to be placed, without any fault of his own, in a false position, made known his sentiments by his impatient movements.

The worst trick our heroes ever played, and one of a somewhat kindred character, consisted in ornamenting Professor X's horse. At midnight, when the authorities were sound asleep, they took the poor animal out of his comfortable stable, and shoeing him with an extra quantity of felt, to prevent any noise, they conveyed him, with great difficulty, up the staircase, to the hall in the third floor. That might have satisfied them; but no, they were not pleased with his color. He was of pure white, and the scapegraces wished a variegated hue. So, after a preliminary shaving, they painted him in green stripes, and when they had arranged it to their satisfaction, they went to their own rooms. The unfortunate victim was not well contented, either with his quarters or his condition, and stamped about at a great rate, being quite unable to get down stairs. In the morning, when the Professor was ready for his usual ride, where was his horse? It had vanished, and the stable-door was open: thieves must have been prowling about in the night. At last, the trick was discovered; and then, as Will Forsythe said, "I could paint that horse, which was rather restive, but I would not undertake to paint the wrath of the Professor." Of course, no one did it--it was impossible to discover the guilty individuals. But the poor animal did not enjoy the frolic as much as the wild youngsters, for he died in consequence; and this unfortunate termination of the exploit put a stop to any practical jokes for the enormous period of several months. To make up the unexpected loss to the Professor, the two friends sent him, anonymously, a sum of money equal to the value of the horse.

But the moral discipline inflicted by the luckless death of the green and white horse, did not endure forever. They say, that when a subterranean fire exists, and old craters are abandoned, new ones are thrown up: the inward, irresistible power must have a vent. Perhaps it's somewhat so with us, lovers of fun. I see uncle shake his head at me, and know that he thinks I'm inculcating bad morality: but indeed, nature will out, as well as murder. You must know that the excellent President, who had a great deal of dry humor in his composition, had procured a nice new vehicle. Every one liked the old gentleman, and yet, so great is the love of frolic inherent in some reprobate minds, that when the idea of carrying off his carriage was first broached at one of their little private suppers, by that wicked imp Will Forsythe, it was met with shouts of applause. It was resolved to convey it away, in the dead of the night, to a little piece of woods belonging to the Doctor, at a distance of about three miles from the college, and there to leave it. The plan was to be carried into execution that very night.

Accordingly, at midnight, eight forms might have been seen carefully descending from eight windows, and skulking along in the shade, for the moon was shining brilliantly, until they got beyond the college limits. They drew out the carriage, and proceeded slowly along the road: no one was astir except themselves. When they had passed all the houses, they no longer felt the need of keeping the strict silence they had at first thought necessary, and the merry laugh and the gay repartee went round. "Hallo, Forsythe!" exclaimed Barrington, "how do you stand it? I think this concern is as ponderous as if the old fat Doctor were inside it himself!" "I conceive this joke to be rather a heavy one," replied his friend, laughing. "I begin to wonder if we are not fools for our pains: Dr. Franklin would say that we paid too dear for our whistle." "Never give up the ship, my boy!" cried the other. "Only think how the old Doctor will stare about him to-morrow, when he misses it! It will be a second edition of the Professor's horse." "Now, 'an thou lovest me, Hal,' don't say a word about the Professor's horse, or I'll turn back with the carriage. That cost me to the tune of a hundred dollars, and more, not to speak of the remorse I felt when the poor creature died. But didn't he look comical when I had put on the green!" Thus, with jocund peals of laughter, they shortened the way, until they reached the little piece of woods in which they intended to deposit the coach. Had they been obliged to toil as much to gain their daily bread, they would probably have thought it hard work.

They took down the bars, drew in the carriage, and placed it in a snug position, out of sight. "And now for home!" said Forsythe. "Won't we get there a little sooner than we came?" At that moment the carriage window was thrown up, a large white head was put forth into the moonlight, and, to the horror of all concerned, they beheld the Doctor! Whether to run, or what to do, they did not know. The old President enjoyed their confusion for a few moments, and then said, "Much obliged to you for a pleasant ride, young gentlemen: now, suppose we go home again." Putting in his head, and shutting the window and blind, he left them to their dismay. Completely taken in! they had been betrayed, somehow. They might look for an expulsion, after that; and, what was worse, would be heartily laughed at besides.

Between their mortification and the unwonted hard work, the perspiration rolled off their faces in large drops by the time they got home--that is to say, to the coach-house. Forsythe humbly opened the coach-door and let down the steps. "Many thanks," said the Doctor, with a grave face: "I have seldom enjoyed a more agreeable ride. I don't know when I have had horses I liked so well." Every day for a fortnight "the horses" were trembling, in expectation of a notice to canter off from the college, in disgrace; but no such intimation came. The worthy old Doctor was contented with the punishment he had already inflicted, but reminded them occasionally of their midnight frolic, and brought blushes up to their cheeks, by some sly allusion.

College days are now over: our heroes have graduated with some distinction, notwithstanding their many peccadilloes, and have bid farewell forever to the "academic shades," figuratively speaking, of their Alma Mater. They have amazed, delighted, and edified the ladies present at the Commencement by the eloquence of their Greek and Latin orations: the pretty creatures listened with rapt attention, and most intelligent countenances, to the whole. Had it been Cherokee, it would have proved the same thing. They did not enlighten the audience, as a learned old Scotchman, who, some fifty years ago, was President of one of our northern colleges, actually did at a commencement speech. He had a board of trustees, whom he looked upon with great contempt, as illiterate men; and not being on the best terms with them, he determined upon a characteristic revenge. Turning round to one side of the stage, where some of them were seated, whenever he quoted Latin, he gave the explanation, "That's _Latin_, gentlemen;" and again, when he introduced any Greek, bowing to the other side, "That's _Greek_, gentlemen." But one incident occurred, showing equal respect to the classical acquirements of those around him: Will Forsythe, whose memory was none of the best, feeling a sudden lapse of it in the very middle of his speech, with imperturbable impudence, recommenced from his starting-point, and made an admirable impression. Thunders of applause rewarded him when he made his parting bow.

The two friends still kept together. They visited the Falls of Niagara, Canada, Saratoga, and Newport; and yet, strange to say, their purses were not exhausted. What shall they do next? they are ready for any frolic that presents itself. They have money in their pockets, young blood in their veins, unlimited time at their disposal, and, of course, they must be in some mischief, as neither of them has lost his heart, and become sentimental. While in New York, Forsythe accidentally took up a newspaper, and that determined the especial kind of wickedness in which they should engage. He noticed a number of pompous advertisements of fortune-tellers under the head of astrology, which gave him an idea. He showed them to Barrington, who observed that "it was astonishing how many fools and ignoramuses there were still in the nineteenth century, when the schoolmaster was abroad." "A very sage remark," answered his friend. "If the schoolmaster would stay at home, and mind his own business, instead of being abroad so much, perhaps the world would be better taught. I notice that he is always going to an education convention. But I didn't show you that for the purpose of eliciting wisdom: quite the contrary--folly is what I'm after, just now. What do you think of our turning astrologers?" "Grand! you're a genius, Will! that's the very thing to wake us up! Here are you and I, dashing blades, who have been doing penance by trying to be fine gentlemen at watering-places, when it wasn't at all in our line. I began to think we looked as much like fops as the rest of the scented and bearded dress-coats, who strut about, and imagine the world is looking at them. This would throw us into quite another rank of life, and give us new ideas. How shall we manage it though, my fine fellow?" "Nothing easier in the world. Let us rent a small house, somewhere near the Bowery--that's the right neighborhood; and when we have fitted it up suitably to our trade, I'll engage to put an advertisement in the papers that shall draw us customers. How do you think I could pass for a Jew?" "Pretty well, with your coal-black eyes and hooked nose: but what is that notion?" "I think it would cause a great sensation if the Wandering Jew were to appear again in real life. What between Croly and Eugene Sue, he has been kept very extensively before the public in books: but I believe no one has had the audacity as yet to represent him in an every-day, money-getting capacity, at least in America. How do you like my plan?" "Superb! the only objection is that you are rather youthful in appearance for one who has wandered over the earth for more than eighteen hundred years. Could you alter that, Will?" "Somewhat, with the aid of a snow-white wig and yellow dye; and you know I always possessed the accomplishment of furrowing up my face with wrinkles when I chose. I don't doubt I could look the character pretty well, in a rich, flowing Oriental dress. And the little Hebrew we picked up at college from our good friend the learned young Rabbi, will also stand us in hand. Have you any objection to being my servant, Ned?" "None at all; I shall feel quite honored by the position. I don't consider myself competent to play the first fiddle in this amusing duet, but can follow your lead very well." "Remember, then, that our English is rather broken, and that we communicate our meaning to one another in French, Spanish, scraps of Hebrew, or Latin and Greek. I have not quite yet forgotten all I learned at college, though I suppose I shall do so in another month." "You remember your speech, at least--eh, Will?" "The first half; if it is necessary to make a great sensation, I can come out with that."

Full of the new plan of diversion, the boys, for they were boys at heart, although men in stature, set out to hunt a house; and were successful in finding one that suited their notions. Very soon it was furnished in Oriental style, and an inner room was fitted up with various occult instruments, calculated to inspire the minds of the vulgar with a wholesome dread. It was agreed that Barrington should make very little change in his wardrobe, and merely dye his hair and whiskers, and add a richer brown to his complexion, to give a more travelled look, and, as he said, to hinder any of the Saratoga belles from finding him out, if they came to have their fortunes told. But Forsythe took infinite pains to alter his appearance, and was so successful, that his friend assured him his own mother could not detect his identity, and that Garrick himself, who could look any character and any age he pleased, would have been jealous had he seen how successfully he had hidden his youth and beauty. When all preparations were made, the advertisement was written. It stated that "The Wandering Jew, having reached New York in his peregrinations, would stay for the space of one fortnight only, it being then indispensably necessary that his travels should recommence, and highly probable that he might not revisit the city for a century. Being now the sole depository of the mysterious knowledge acquired in Egypt in ancient times, some scraps of which had been picked up by the astrologers of the middle ages, and especially by Merlin, Michael Scott, Cornelius Agrippa, and Friar Bacon, he was ready, during the short period of his stay, to lift the veil which separates the present from the future. Not being actuated in the slightest degree by a lust for gain, the illustrious exile would not consent to gratify mere idle curiosity, and to afford amusement to the gay and frivolous; but where an earnest, inquiring mind was intent upon discovering the hidden things of life, upon investigating the secrets of the past, or searching into futurity, the Wanderer would give his mighty assistance. By books and science, by spells and conjurations, the POWERS were compelled to reveal their arcana, and FATE itself whispered its dark mysteries into his ear. The SPIRITS being subjects of the Great Magician, their aid would be called in when desired. Where this mode was preferred to the ordinary methods of consulting the stars, the Cabala, and black-letter volumes, these intelligences answered all questions by significant RAPS, or in writing, guiding the hand of the Wanderer, who acted as their medium."

The first day that the advertisement appeared, no visitors of any distinction came to see the Wanderer, who yawned, and smoked cigars, and read through the last novel, declaring that it was intolerable to be dressed up for a show, and to have nobody come to see them. But in the evening, they were rewarded for their trouble. There was a quick, nervous ring, and Barrington opened the door: a timid little man walked in, looking back over his shoulder to see if he were observed. When he found himself alone with Barrington, he asked, with some surprise, if he were the Great Magician. "I! oh, no, my lord: far be it from me. I am the humblest of his slaves. I will see if my venerable master can now receive you." Opening the door leading into a back apartment, he made a low salam to the Wanderer, who was seated in state upon a divan, immersed in his studies. Addressing him in Hebrew, with a few words of Greek to make out the sense, he received a response which he interpreted to the newcomer as a permission to approach the august presence. The little man went in, feeling at every step an increase of reverential awe. The Oriental, costumed with all magnificence, his hoary head bent with age, his brow, from beneath which black eyes flashed brightly, furrowed with years and care, filled him with admiration. Every thing around heightened the impression. A curious-carved cabinet, whose doors looked as if they concealed a mystery, was surmounted by folio volumes filled, of course, with potent spells: and above these again, a skull and cross-bones made him shudder. In one corner was a globe, covered with strange figures, dragons, scorpions, distressed damsels fastened to a rock, etc. Scattered about the room were singular instruments of various kinds, jars with hideous snakes preserved in spirits, books in unknown tongues, and parchments upon which cabalistic diagrams were portrayed, which no doubt had power to command the spirits and to reveal futurity.

The Wanderer waved his hand, to invite his visitor to a seat: the humble slave stood, with head meekly bowed down, near the door. With some difficulty the little man, who was frightened nearly out of his small stock of wits, explained his errand. It seems that he had fallen heir to a property, the deed of which had been lost. He had tried every method he could think of to discover it: he had rummaged over all the drawers and chests in his relative's house; he had said his prayers backwards, so that a dream might be sent him in the night; and he had been to three fortune-tellers, but strange to say, had returned no wiser than he was when he went. And now, this was his last hope: if the Wandering Jew, of whom he had heard so much, could not help him, he knew that no one could. He was asked in which way he wished to receive the desired information: should the answer appear in flames before him, should it be discovered by the magic books, or should the spirit of his deceased friend signify his presence to him by a rap, and then respond to the question? The stranger evidently preferred the last mode of operating, and let out the fact, in the course of conversation, that his relative had been lost at sea. The Wanderer then performed various evolutions, burning incense, bowing to unseen visitors, who were admitted into the room by the slave upon a rap being heard at the door, and muttering, meanwhile, mysterious words in an unknown tongue, to which his attendant occasionally responded. The poor little man began to quake all over: he felt as if surrounded by charms, and spells, and wicked spirits. He wished himself heartily out of the house: but there was no retreat now--some ghosts it is easier to raise than to lay. When the room was filled with fragrant smoke, and the subject of the conjuration was completely mystified and frightened, Selim, for so the Wanderer called his assistant, brought in a circular table, around which the three seated themselves in profound silence; but the venerable Oriental, who acted as the medium of communication, alone placed his hand upon it. A rap, which caused the little man nearly to jump off his chair, announced that the spirit was ready to be consulted. The medium asked, "Whether the inquirer should recover his rights, and obtain a copy of the deed?" Three impressive, decided raps gave an affirmative reply. "Will he be satisfied upon this point to-morrow?" Again three raps. "Will the spirit condescend to signify, in writing, in what way he shall act to obtain this end?" Three raps again testified that the amiable spirit was willing to oblige. Accordingly, Selim having produced an antique ink-stand and an eagle's quill--a goose quill and steel pens would have been quite too common--the hand of the medium was guided in tracing strange characters, which looked like a jumble of the Greek, Arabic, and cuneiform alphabets. This "spirit dialect" was translated to the inquirer: it contained a direction to call early the next morning, between the hours of eight and nine--for during that hour the fates were propitious to him--at the office of a lawyer named Warren, No. 354 Broadway. Upon seeing him, he was to lay down a $20 gold piece, and to say that he wanted him to procure a copy of the missing will. He must answer all questions Mr. Warren might ask, and, above all, must feel implicit faith in him, as the agent appointed by the spirits to restore to him his property.

Full of awe as he was, the little man still wished to gratify his curiosity as to the manner of his kinsman's death: could that be done? "Oh, yes," answered the mysterious one, "nothing is easier." As he was speaking, the table began to creak, as a ship would do in a storm. It was excessively agitated; the noise of the rudder was heard, and at last, after a series of agonizing movements, the whole concern fell over, with a sudden crash. And yet no one appeared to touch it--the passive hand of the venerable exile could scarcely have affected it so strangely. "You see the fate of the ship," said the Wanderer; "it has gone to the bottom in a storm." "How very odd!" replied the simple-hearted little man; "when it came home, the Captain said he had fallen overboard." "He did," answered the magician, in a solemn manner, avoiding, however, to look in the direction of Selim. "Did you not hear the plunge into the sea? this describes the ultimate fate of the vessel." The good, easy man was perfectly satisfied.

He was directed to come on the morrow, when the deed had been found, and the correctness of the spirit's directions was fully proved: and payment was indignantly' refused. The next day, various sentimental chambermaids visited them, desiring to be shown the likeness of their future husbands. This was done, greatly to their satisfaction, by exhibiting to them one and the same hyalotype, magnified by the magic lantern, so that the life-like countenance appeared to approach them from the opposite wall in the darkened room. It was observed, that the more ignorant they were, the more were they affected with horror by the sight of the cross-bones, skull, and chemical apparatus. Still, this was rather tame work; and both the Aged One and Selim were relieved when they saw their dupe of the preceding night reappear, with happiness beaming in every feature of his countenance. "The lawyer," he said, "had not appeared at all surprised at being told to get him a copy of the will: he said something about the Recorder's office. He was a young-looking man to be chosen by the spirits: and he wanted to know who had sent him to himself. Of course I told him, and then he laughed, and said it was a great humbug. I was very much afraid that the spirits would be offended, and refuse to discover to him the will: but he told me to return towards evening, and lo! here it is."

The poor little man was full of the warmest gratitude, and wanted to force a purse upon the unwilling astrologers: but they finally overcame his importunities by representing that the spirits would not obey their summons, if made a subject of bargain and sale, and that he should best please them by distributing it among the sick and poor.

This circumstance, which found its way into one of the daily papers, with many embellishments, brought crowds of believers in "the night side of nature" to our mischievous youngsters, who were ready to humor the credulous public to the top of its bent. Very many people looked sage, and quoted the passage--

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

Select circles of intelligent people insisted upon it, that although they could not give in their adhesion to such mysteries, yet they greatly disapproved of the spirit of skepticism which had been so prevalent for the last fifty years. The new discoveries in science plainly showed that nature had many secrets yet unrevealed to man: and no one should audaciously set a limit to his powers. Did not animal magnetism, containing so many things which could not be explained away, plainly prove it? Could they have seen our merry graduates, when the door was locked for the night, and the venerable wig was thrown aside, jollifying over their supper! could they have heard the peals of laughter caused by the unlooked-for success of the frolic, how would their cheeks have been covered with blushes!

The astrologers became decidedly the rage: had it been their object to gain wealth, they could have charged any price they pleased for their conjurations, and would have obtained it. But their popularity was of course increased by the fact that the mysterious Wanderer uniformly refused to accept any compensation, and majestically commanded those who sought his aid, to apply the sum of money offered him to the relief of the first poor widow, orphan, or aged person they met. This peculiarity induced many young persons, of a rank in life and a style of education who do not commonly patronize fortune-telling, to visit the great unknown, partly in fun, partly in earnest; for there is a vast deal of superstition hidden in the recesses of most characters, and ready to start forth at the first call. Bright eyes, obscured by thick veils, excited the curiosity even of the venerable Wanderer; and white, jewelled hands were extended, that his searching glance might decipher the lines of life. Several interesting love-tales were poured into the sympathizing ear of benign old age, and the recollections of centuries were called up, to furnish suitable counsel and to encourage the despairing heart to hope. Forsythe assured his friend that he would not exchange the knowledge of human nature, and especially of woman nature, which he had acquired in this fortnight, for the experience of ten years of ordinary life.

The joke was very consistently carried out. Our youngsters were both possessed of ready mother wit, and the world was charmingly mystified. The answers furnished to inquirers partook much of the dimness and ambiguity of the ancient oracular responses, when Delphi was yet in its glory, and the oaks of Dodona reflected some of their own rich green tint upon those who consulted its priestesses. On one occasion, "Selim" found it very difficult to retain the gravity of his sad, Oriental countenance. A sharp, quick-witted young fellow, Frank Warren, their former college chum, to whom they had sent his first fee, had accompanied the grateful little man who had made their reputation, ostensibly for the purpose of consulting the spirit of Milton, but really, as they plainly perceived, to detect their tricks. They were on their guard: they had not seen Warren for some time, but their former habits of intimacy made the danger of discovery imminent. It was Warren's wish that the spirit should guide the pen of his medium, and accordingly our Ancient sat down, and tried to indite Miltonic lines. "Very blank verse, indeed, it was," as he subsequently confessed to his familiar, at their midnight conference. The face of the visitor twitched convulsively as he read the so-called poetry, and the young fellows, ever ready to enjoy a joke, would have dearly loved to join him in a loud and merry peal of laughter. By a great effort, all three restrained themselves; but the inquirer remarked, with a grave countenance, that "it appeared as if the genius of Milton had not expanded in the upper world--he certainly never wrote such trash when he was upon the earth. It reminded him of the saying of the wits of Athens: that although Apollo was the god and patron of poetry, any common rhymster would be ashamed of the lines which emanated from the deity at Delphos." When Selim escorted the gentleman into the outer apartment, the skeptic slipped some gold into his palm, which the former at first pretended to receive; and by cunning cross-examination, strove to make him confess that his master was not so old as he assumed to be. "How long have you been in his service?" "Not very long, myself." "But do you think him as ancient as he pretends to be?" "That is a delicate question: I hardly like to answer it. To be frank, I have sometimes had doubts about the great length of his life, although I cannot feel any hesitation on the subject of his wonderful powers." "But how long have you known him?" "Let me see. It was Friar Bacon who first introduced me to His Eminence, and advised me to enlist in his service. He did not look so very old at that time, and it was only six centuries ago. This occurred at Oxford, on the magic eve of St. John's day, in 1250 A.D.--I remember the date distinctly. No, between ourselves, I have some suspicions that he is not quite so old as he says he is." Very soon after that, the investigator left. One thing was certain, that he had not recognized them.

On the last day of their intended stay, an incident occurred which furnished a proper termination to their frolic. A rough, boorish fellow came to visit them, who evidently "hailed" from remote country districts, into which the civilizing influences of education had not penetrated. All his utterances, for his words should scarcely be dignified with the name of conversation, showed him to be ignorant in the extreme, and to be credulous in proportion. He had come to New York, hoping, in that centre of light and science, medical and theological, to find relief from a certain demon which possessed him. This wicked spirit made him often do things he didn't wish to do--caused him to foam at the mouth, tear his clothes, etc., and he wanted to know whether the Wanderer was not possessed of a spell to quiet the tormentor. "Certainly; follow our directions, and you never shall be troubled with him again."

Accordingly, the patient was brought into the back room, which had been darkened up purposely. A circle was described, within which incense was burnt, and in the centre stood the Awful One in his flowing robe, with his magical wand in his hand, uttering terrible conjurations. "Do you feel any thing?" he would occasionally ask the countryman, who was gaping with wonder and admiration. "N--no, I dunna that I do," the man would reply. "Then it has not left you yet: you'll be sure to know when it does. You'll feel a sort of shock go all through you, and will see sparks: then open your mouth wide, and the spirit will jump out." As it was some time before the sufferer obtained relief, Selim was called to his aid; and the way in which their Latin and Greek orations were tossed about at one another, would have astonished the Professors. At last the Wanderer placed the patient upon a stool, and proceeded with his incantations. Suddenly the countryman uttered a shriek, and jumping into the air, cut a pigeon-wing. "He's gone! I felt him go!" He had touched the electrical machine, which had been fully charged, and was put there, as it were, in ambush. "Do you feel much better?" "Yes; I'm another man."

The poor fellow went away, declaring himself a perfect cure. And Forsythe and Barrington agreed, that after such a brilliant finale it was as well to beat a retreat: just as some gentlemen, at the close of an evening visit, relate a witty anecdote, or sparkle out a brilliant repartee, snatch up their hats, make their bows, and leave you in the middle of a laugh. But another adventure was in store for them, which had not entered into their calculations at all. The play-bills show us that after a tragedy there generally comes a farce: the case was reversed with them, for they had enjoyed their farce, and had laughed over it heartily--and now there was danger of its ending in a tragedy. When their preparations were nearly complete for a sudden and inexplicable disappearance, our astrologers were horrified by the apparition, in the day time, of stars they had never consulted--stars of this gross, lower world--stars which, in case of resistance, become shooting stars, and which revolve, in very eccentric orbits, around the central police station. What these portended, it needed no wisdom of Chaldean sage to decipher--exposure, ridicule, disgrace, and the prison. They had enjoyed their laugh at the world--now the tables would be turned, and the world's dread laugh be raised against them.

Resistance was utterly in vain. Attired as they were, in flowing Oriental garb, the distressed Wanderer and his faithful Selim were hurried into a cab, which no conjuration, not even that of "the golden eagle," could prevent from driving to the Mayor's office. Here they beheld their former friend, Warren, evidently the "very head and front of the offending:" he was talking to the little man of the famous will case, who appeared to be on the verge of a violent nervous fever. The latter wished to escape, but the lawyer was too resolute and pertinacious to be conquered by his weak irritability, and he was obliged to resign himself into his hands.

The exile had time allowed him to reflect upon his course of action. A multitude of petty cases were up for examination, and the patience of his Honor, the Mayor, was heavily taxed, especially as he knew that a very capital dinner and excellent company were waiting for him at home. At last this case of deception, imposture, and swindling came up in turn; but not before the aged, wrinkled, care-worn man had whispered a few words into the ears of the young lawyer, which made him start, and give the other an admiring glance of surprise, as if he recognized in him a genius of the highest order.

His Honor was angry and tired, and gave rather a savage look at the culprits. "A case like this needs very little proof--they are arrant swindlers, evidently--with all that foolery of dress about them! Remove that wig and beard." The red blood rushed up to the cheeks and forehead of poor Will Forsythe, and showed itself through the yellow dye of his skin, as he was obliged to submit to this indignity; and he mentally exclaimed: "If ever I pretend again to be any thing I am not, may my head come off too!" "You appear in this case, Mr. Warren," said the Mayor. "Let me hear what can be urged against these men, and produce your witnesses." "I find that I have very little to say on the subject, your Honor. It is true, I can prove that this gentleman went to consult the prisoner as to a missing will, and that he is under the impression that spirits were consulted on the occasion. But I can also prove that very sensible advice was given to my client--to consult a lawyer of great respectability and high promise; and accordingly he came to me. And further, I can prove that the astrologers did not receive one farthing in payment for their counsel, and, indeed, positively refused the offer of a handsome gratuity from my grateful client. And I can challenge any one in the city of New York to prove that, in any one case, the prisoners received money in return for advice or assistance given to any visitor. This fact takes from the case the appearance of a swindling transaction, according to the well-known law of George III., which doubtless your Honor thoroughly remembers." "There appears, then, to be no prosecution in this case? I find that, like a true lawyer, you can argue on one side as well as the other." "There is none, your Honor: my client withdraws the prosecution. May I be allowed a word in private?" After a whispered consultation of some minutes, during which our unmasked jesters observed his Honor cast very highly-amused glances in their direction, and heard occasional snatches of the conversation,--"Ha, indeed? sons of *** and ****, do you say? the first families in the South! I knew their fathers well! tell them to come to dinner just as they are--the ladies will make allowances."

But that degree of impudence was too much for the brass of even Forsythe and Barrington. They respectfully declined, and hastened homeward, accompanied by Frank Warren. One more merry supper did they eat in that house which had been the theatre for the display of so many strange adventures, and then they vanished. When morning came, no trace of the astrologers was to be found. The furniture had gone, the house was shut up, the birds had flown. Had there been a storm in the night, the believers in Gotham would have thought they had been claimed by their Dread Master, and had been snatched away in a blaze of lightning. As it was, there was nothing to reveal the mystery. The good little man, who never quite understood the scene in the Mayor's office, is gratefully enjoying his property, and thinks that the Wandering Jew may now be in the centre of Africa, or climbing the heights of the Himalaya Mountains. But as I happen to be better informed, I know that both he and his faithful Selim slipped out of New York as quietly as possible, and returned to their homes in the sunny South. They have since then married, have settled down into quiet orderly citizens, and have given up all practical jokes; but they frequently amuse their wives with some of their varied experience, obtained when playing the rôle of astrologers in New York.

"But you do not really think people could be so cheated now-a-days, uncle!" cried George.

"I certainly do not consider the world too wise to be fooled in almost any way," answered his uncle. "Look at the various _isms_ which have sprung up, even in our own day. Think of the imposture of Mormonism,--it has fairly peopled a territory. Think of the pretensions of clairvoyance, claiming almost omniscience and omnipresence for the human spirit. Think of Matthias and his followers. But remarkable as that delusion was, it is almost forgotten now, so many extravagancies tread upon one another's heels, and hustle each its predecessor off the stage. Spirit-rapping is the last, and is spreading like wildfire throughout the land: some characters have so much tinder in their composition, that they catch in a moment. But it will soon go out--'tis like the crackling of thorns under the pot--a quick blaze for a moment, and then it expires."

"The alarm about witchcraft, both in England and America, was, I think, one of the most noticeable delusions of modern times," said Mrs. Wyndham. "How many eminent and excellent men were deceived by it! The learned, judicious, and pious Sir Matthew Hale condemned at least one witch to be burnt alive--although, I believe, it cost him some remorse afterwards. And in New England, Cotton Mather was prominent in hunting out those who were supposed by their neighbors to be on too familiar terms with a certain nameless individual. I am glad I did not live in those days! If a poor old woman was ugly, and cross, and mumbled to herself, as we old women will do sometimes, and above all, if she kept a large black cat, woe betide her! her fate was well-nigh sealed."

"I don't think you would have been in any danger, Aunt Lucy," said Amy, laughing.

"I don't know, indeed--probably not, while I had such an array of young people around me. But if I were left desolate and alone in the world, and became peevish and odd from the mere fact of having no one to love me, I would not have answered for the consequences at all."

"I had to laugh," added Ellen, "at the marvellous cure effected by the electrical machine. It reminded me of a well-attested anecdote I have read of the beneficial effects wrought by a thermometer, through the medium of the imagination. The physician intended to try whether the galvanic battery could not be usefully employed in a case of paralysis, but before commencing operations, he applied a small thermometer to the tongue of the patient. Upon removing it, he was told by the latter that it gave him very curious feelings, and that he thought himself a little better. Seeing the mistake he had made, the doctor resolved not to undeceive him, but to persevere in the application of the thermometer. He did so, and the man was soon a complete cure."

"I have heard of instances of sudden joy or fright restoring the vital energies to poor bed-ridden mortals," said Cornelia, "but to be cured by a thermometer is too comical!"

"It was that powerful principle, faith," answered Mrs. Wyndham. "I remember very well the time when certain metallic tractors were all the fashion, to draw away pain from the parts affected, by magnetic influence. Well-authenticated cures were wrought; but at last a physician applied a test, which proved the beneficial results to be entirely the work of the imagination. He had wooden tractors made, painted so as to resemble the metal ones, and they exerted equal powers. When this fact was published, of course the cures ceased, and metallic tractors became things that were."

"Another fact is told to show how the imagination can kill or cure," said Mr. Wyndham. "A criminal was condemned to death for some atrocious deed, and it was resolved to try an experiment upon him, as he would have to die at any rate. He was informed that he would be bled to death; and when the appointed time had arrived, his eyes were effectually bandaged, his arm bared, and the surgeon pretended to cut the artery. Luke-warm water was poured, in a steady current, upon his arm, and trickled down into a basin below: and the physician held his hand, feeling the pulse. The wretched criminal became paler and paler, his pulse beat more faintly, and at last he died, a victim to his own imagination."

"Poor creature!" added Mary. "And I have repeatedly heard of cases, uncle, in which persons fancied themselves about to die at a certain hour, from having had a dream to that effect, or some other supernatural indication of the will of Heaven. And sometimes they actually expired, from sheer fright. But when the clock was put back an hour or two, the time passed without any fatal result ensuing."

"Those chaps were wilder than we are, Charlie!" cried George, with an air of triumph.

"Yes," answered his cousin. "But I very much fear that does not prove our innocence, but only their depravity. It reminds me of that line in Milton--

'And in the lowest deep, a lower deep.'"