On our left rose the lofty snow-capped mountains of Granada, bringing back memories of the old tales we had read in childhood of Moorish and Christian valor; on our right the low sandy coast of Africa stretched away, telling its mournful story, seeming to send its deep wail of lamentation over the sea, like Rachel mourning for her lost children, and would not be comforted because they were not. Our ship was cleaving the same waters which had long ago washed the thrones of Egypt, with her Pyramids Carthage with her Hannibal-Gra- | nada with her chieftains-Rome with her mailed heroes-Greece with her poets, and Judah with her Holy City-while all around us on the soft air the spirit of the classic world breathed. How often on my youthful fancy, like a lovely vision in dreams, had this night come! How many times, long ago, when on some quiet autumn day, I have laid me down on the sunny slope of a hill, under the falling yellow maple leaves, and read the story of Eneas and Dido, or the wondrous tales of the bold knights of Spain, and dreamed I should one day sail over these tideless waters, and then wept to think it would be but a dream! But this glorious night, which had so often seemed worth a whole life besides, had at last come. The mellow sky of the Mediterranean was bending over us, with all its stars-the silver sheen of the moon was spread along the sleeping waters-all around on the still air I heard voices from the olden time. We were sailing on the same sea where had sailed the Rubicon Cæsar, with his mailed cohorts-Hannibal, with his invincible legions-Paul, with his new FaithPeter the Hermit, with his wild crusaders—the young Corsican soldier, on his way to his Imperial Throne, and Columbus, on his bold path to a New World. This morning we all rose early, to catch the first view of Italy. There lay Genoa, "la Superba," white and quiet in the bosom of the mountains. At the distance of fifteen or twenty miles, and in the indistinct light of the early morning, only its main outlines could be distinguished. But as we slowly rode up the gulf, and the sun came over the Appenines, the scene began to brighten. On our left lay the snowy-topped, distant Alps, glittering like silver in the grow ing light of morning, and the gray mountains around us freshened into verdure. Either shore as it curled up to the city was lined with quiet villages, clustering as they advanced, till, like two streams, they seemed to pour themselves into the bosom of the "city of palaces." The town follows the outline of the shore, which is semi-circular, and rises ir the form of an ampitheatre on the hills behind As we drew nearer, the scene changed every moment. Palaces started up before us-terraced gardens rose above terraced gardensmountain enfolded mountain, crowned with fortresses and convents in almost endless perspective, till the whole waving outline grew indistinct on the northern sky. Under a light breeze, so soft and gentle that it broke the calm of the silver waters only at intervals, we floated slowly up the bay, and a little after noon dropped our anchor inside the mole of the harbor of Genoa. While we were sitting on deck waiting for the health officers to come on board, and making up our minds how well we should like our new home, the breeze came down from the gardens and vineyards of the city, LITERALLY LOADED WITH FRAGRANCE. This seemed like "the dream-land." THE STANBROOKS, OR, THE MYSTERIOUS WILL. A TALE OF NEW YORK FASHIONABLE LIFE, TEN YEARS AGO. CHAPTER I. SARATOGA. "A chiel's amang us, taking notes, And faith he'll prent 'em." BY FAIRY FAY "Well, of all dull places, commend me to Saratoga!" exclaimed Mr. Augustus Beaumont-stretching out one leg, then the other, and yawning in the most fashionable manner. "Nothing but eating, drinking and swallowing mineral poisons in large doses all day long! Bah! we have not even a flirtation to drive away ennui. Fred!" turning to a gentleman at the opposite end of the room, who was busily engaged in reading " Fred, why on earth do you keep all the newspaper to yourself. Pray, is there not a horrible accident,' or a 'terriole murder to amuse one with? Do let's have something. Oh, don't hand me the paper; it's too great a bore to read one's self. Any news?" "The Great Britain has arrived." "Still less interest in that-never having had property there, save three vacant lots, which ny good creditors took a fancy to long time ago." with an offended air; changed the position of his graceful limbs, and looking daggers at his presumptuous friend, demanded whether he meant anything personal by that remark. "Oh, most assuredly," replied Howard, "that is if you choose to take it so. Do you remember the answer of the Irishman who deeming himself insulted by some inadvertent remark, demanded if the speaker was serious? 'I am,’ he replied. Then I am glad to hear it,' said the Irishman, for I will not take a joke from any body.' Mr. Augustus Beaumont recrossed his legs, hummed an opera tune, and moved his chair toward the window. A moment after, he started up with an exclamation of surprise and delight "Colonel Stanbrook and his two neices, as I'm a sinner! and there is the beautiful Laura lifting her blue eyes to our window, while the heiress bends her queenly head in answer to the salutation of some of her adorers, as the carriage dashes through the avenue. Why, what lucky fellows we are, Fred; all alone here, and the field to ourselves. They must be here for the season, and away from New-York fortune hunters, we have the game in our own hands. Fred! I say; one would think your whole existence depended upon that telegraph of news and scandal." The noise of approaching wheels--the loud shouts of postilions-the clamor in the hall, and the mingling of several voices, compelled Howard to lay aside his newspaper, and rise for the purpose of ascertaining the cause for this sudden tumult. A splendid private carriage stood before the door, in which was seated an elderly gentleman and three ladies. The door was soon opened by the obsoquious footman, and the gentleman held out his hand to assist his fair companions. First appeared a young lady dressed in the extreme of fashion. An elegant riding-dress of black velvet, relieved at the throat by a French dollars and cents, to balance the numerous attractions of yonder petite-well, I never!" "But who and what is she? you have roused my curiosity." "Who she is except a dependant orphan, I cannot tell, and what she is you must ascertain for yourself. She is called a muse-a grace— a vision-a creature of enthusiasm one mo collar, displayed her tall form to advantage, and a rich white silk hat with a demi veil of Dresden lace and ornamented with a superb bunch of French flowers, sat lightly upon her commanding brow. She had bold features, dark, flashing eyes, and an air which bespoke her at once as a favorite of fortune. A smile, half of condescension, and half of scorn played around her haughty lip, as she returned the low bowment, and the next quiet, sedate, thoughtful of Beaumont, and then stood twirling a sun- as a hermit. A being shade in her hand while awaiting the descent of her companions. "Is she not a superb creature?" exclaimed the beau, as Howard joined him at the window. "Quite a noble air, and withal graceful and dignified; pray who is she?" "Cornelia Stanbrook, the reputed heiress of three estates, and the leader of ton among the New-York aristocracy." "New-York arist coracy! Pray, define that term," said Howard. Why, you do not presume to intimate that we have no established aristocracy in NewYork!" exclaimed Mr. Augustus Beaumont, in profound astonishment. Howard smiled at the earnestness with which this remark was made; but possessing too much good sense to attempt arguing the point at that moment with his volatile companion, changed the subject by inquiring why he used the term reputed heiress, in reference to Miss Stanbrook. I "Because the different suitors to the fair sisters for there are two of them-have not yet determined which is the heiress. I have been informed that the young ladies are them; selves ignorant which deserves the title. have settled the matter in my own mind, for no one could view them together without remarking the decided superiority of Cornelia; though Laura is pretty, vastly pretty-yet without possessing the Je ne sais quoi, which is essential to the first position in fashionable society." Howard again smiled at the term fashionable society-but without any comment upon the words, inquired the name of a sylph-like fairy creature who was just stepping from the carriage at the door. "Angels and ministers of the-Muses, defend us!" exclaimed Beaumont, levelling his eye-glass. "If there is not the "The what?" Mr. Beaumont answered only by a succession of exclamations: "To think of the belle bringing such a rival as that! She will have to make out a schedule of her possessions in "Of passionate visions-quick, light and shade." "If she rouses even you into quoting poetry, she must be a character worth studying. How provoking that she will not allow us to catch a glimpse of her face. How I hate those thick green veils-they are very annoying!" "You will find the wearer still more annoying," observed Beaumont, biting his cane with vexation, and speaking as if he had received some provocation from the subject of his criticism. "But look there, Fred, and talk of angels! There comes the last, but by no means least, of the new visitors. Look there, and barricade your sensitive heart; only let me whisper one caution-she is a portionless beauty." Howard did look-and he thought that portionless or not, she was the most celestial creature he had ever gazed upon. Her eyes of deep, dark blue, shaded by long drooping lashes, were raised one moment to the window, and then fell instantly, as she observed the admiring looks of the gentlemen; while a blush, like the delicate tint of an ocean shell, suffused a cheek fairer than the lily. Her half parted lips displayed a row of pearly teeth, and her voice, as she addressed her companions, was melody itself. Her age appeared hardly seventeen, and there was a modesty, an ethereal purity and innocence floating like a veil around her, denoting a heart uncontaminated by the follies and absurdities of what Beaumont called fashionable society. Howard gazed, with his whole soul in his eyes, until her light form disappeared from the door. "I see I need not eulogize Laura," remarked Beaumont, as he saw the rapt attention of his friend. "What would you give now for an introduction?" "An introduction! Do you know them?" "To all," said Howard, eagerly. find it displayed to advantage in their various characters. But, by the way, there is a ball this evening in the house, and they will all be there of course. If the heiress is not in one of her lofty moods, and therefore unapproachable-you shall have the honor of picking up her fan, or handing her an ice; and if the divine Laura is not in one of her timid moods --for the wild fawn is not more shy-you shall | have the rapture of discovering the color of her eyes;—and if the Muse humph!" Mr. Beaumont gave a most significant shrug, and was silent. "The muse-well." "If the muse is not above your comprehension, you will have eyes and ears for no other ject. But go to the ball, and study the fair trio to your heart's content.” "The last place in the world to study a woman's character," replied Howard. "Give me the woman who can throw a charm over the social circle. I regard not the attractions of a ball-room, where she is nothing but a beautiful puppet. Give me a woman whose conversation will enliven my solitude-whose gifted mind displays itself to the few as well as the many a woman, in short "The muse, to the very life," interrupted Beaumont. She would charm you out of your seven senses in half an hour. While the rest of the company are discussing ice creams and quadrilles, she is discussing the merits of Eschyles, Shakspeare or Milton." “The M——s, of Washington Square. They give the most splendid suppers. They have travelled through Europe, and have every room in the house furnished in a different style. One German, one French, one Italian, another Spanish, and so on." And yet I think I have heard that Mr. M's father had acquired his wealth by dishonest means, commencing life as a refugee from the alms-house, and arriving at his present elevation by what a backwoods Yankee would call a circumamnibus route; but I do not mean to be sarcastic, and would only observe that Mr. M- has seen fit lately to put his name on the bankrupt list, perhaps to secure his property." has "You're too cute for me," said Beaumont, laughing. Well, there's the H-s, in the same square; real aristocrats; equal to any lords and ladies in Europe. Young Ha tandem, a mistress, and nothing to do." "More's the pity," replied Howard, "since in a few years he may find that he has a great "What! is she a female philosopher?" asked deal to do to procure a subsistence, as the Howard, rather aghast at the idea. "You may call her what you will-an enchantress, or anything else. She is a sort of favorite everywhere; humph! yes, there's no denying that; though I can't for the life of me see what the fashionables can find in a poor dependant so very charming. Some say she's a natural daughter of the old Colonel; and faith, with some reason, for she looks like him. Others that she is a destitute orphan, that in the proud family of the Stanbrooks, supplies the place of half servant, half companion to the aristocratic girls. Cornelia can't bear her, but Laura, being somewhat of a dunce, is glad to make use of Inez's wit to get out of her love scrapes. However, Miss Inez Laurence, with all her wit and learning, is hardly considered one of the aristocracy.” "Who do you call the aristocracy?" asked Howard, slightly shrugging his shoulders. "Why, such persons as Mr. P.” "Mr. P- —! well, how strong is his claim?" family are going to ruin as fast as they can. But I think I have had a pretty good specimen of your aristocracy. Were I to give my views on the subject, and point out whom I consider the real aristocracy, the nobles of the land, you would only laugh at my odd notions, so I think we had better obey the summons from that dinner-bell, and enjoy the society of your three graces." "Paint their portraits if you are able, and study their characters at your leisure. The two minors are at your service, but I intend to monopolize the belle myself; so beware of interference, or expect a challenge." Mr. Augustus Beaumont was the son of a New-York Millionaire. One of the many who by dint of hard labor, considerable tact and shrewdness, and perhaps a few of those underhand practices by which many arrive at distinction, had risen from obscurity as a humble mechanic, to a par with the aristocracy-that is the aristocracy which sustains its claims by the magic charms of wealth alone. He lived in a fine house in Square, kept his carriage, and sent his daughters to the most fashionable dancing-school. With the vagaries of Master Augustus, the old gentleman had long ceased to interfere; so that the young gentleman, left to himself, with pockets well-filled with the hard earnings of his sire, spent his time sauntering about the streets, patronizing the theatres and sharing his money with those amiable and considerate individuals who are called hangers-on in society, and who having nothing of their own to depend upon, generously relieve of their superabundance, those who are not capable of keeping it. Beaumont's tandem and bays were the admiration of Broadway. His cane was the most exquisitely turned and mounted, his whiskers the most ferocious, and his boots the tightest of all the followers of dame fashion. The more prudent father, who had sacrificed both health and comfort to attain his present enviable position, at length began to open his eyes to the conduct of his son; and, aware that his hard-earned wealth would soon be exhausted in such reckless hands, suddenly announced to the petrified youth his intention of stopping the supplies in future; at the same time intimating that he must look about him and choose some business or profession, whereby he might render himself independent, and be preserved from utter ruin. There were six daughters to portion, and the poor old man groaned in spirit at the length of the bills which were duly arranged before his eyes every quarter-day. He could not understand them at all. "In my young days, girls," he would say, "my mother and sisters did not spend so much in a year as you do in a month. What is this? One shawl, twenty dollars; one hat, fifty dollars; one feather, twelve dollars; one shawl, one hundred and fifty dollars! Pshaw!" He sighed deeply, shook his head, and, gave orders on his banker. It had never occurred to Mr. Augustus Beaumont that so elegant a being as himself would ever be obliged to labor in any way. Study was his abhorrence; and a mercantile life-the very thought of it was galling to his proud spirit. Were not young C and young W gentlemen of leisure, and must he slave for a subsistence? Query-how to avoid it? It suddenly occurred to him that a good speculation in land might relieve him from all embarrassment-and a rich wife save him the mortification of being obliged to use his delicate hands. His sage parent shook his head at mention of the first, and laughed outright at hint of the marriage speculation. But finding his obstinate heir resolved to do what he liked, or nothing at all, he reluctantly consented to give him $20,000 for his land speculation, and as much more should he succeed in winning "the heiress," whoever she might be. This arrangement was to be made only on condition that Augustus should henceforth consider himself independent of his father; that should he succeed in his plans, the profits were to be secured to himself. Should he fail, nothing should induce the old man to advance him another cent. Elated at his success, the young gentleman grasped the long-wished for treasure, and launched at once upon the ocean of speculation. But, alas! to find his frail bark wrecked upon the shoals where so many have landed in similar expeditions. His first scheme had failed, and now there was but one hope remaining that of winning an heiress; and Cornelia Stanbrook, the reputed heiress of an immense estate, had hardly appeared as a bright peculiar star in the galaxy of beauty and fashion, than Augustus Beaumont threw himself at her feet, and vowed he would there sigh away his life, unless she condescended to raise him. And did she? Were all his sighs, his groans, his passionate vows exhausted in vain? Time will show. Frederick Howard was a young man with no high expectations. He had been left at an early age dependent upon his own resources for subsistence. The small income left him by his father-who had been a highly respectable and much-esteemed citizen of New Yorksufficed to maintain him in comfort until his studies were completed. He had chosen the profession of a lawyer, and his own natural talents, added to industry and perseverance, rendered him amply qualified to sustain any position with honor and credit. He possessed a thorough education, elegant and refined manners, and withal a faultless form, and face of uncommon beauty and intelligence. These various gifts rendered him a universal favorite in the highest circles, even without the appendages of wealth and high rank. Many a rich and high born lady was proud of the acquaintance, and would have been flattered with the attentions of Frederick Howard. Generous, brave, affectionate, and gifted; easily led, and and like all persons of great sensibility, easily imposed upon-his only faults arose from the impulsive sincerity of his heart, which led him |