Wife! can you expect that he whom you made the ideal of your worship, will be content to sink into a mere domestic drudge? Or that he will see, without marked and painful emotion, those smiles, which were the light of his existence, darken into frowns on every trivial occasion--that temper, which seemed so mild and placid, becoming deformed and shrewish? Or, yet, that he will calmly endure to behold those affections, which you vowed were garnered up in his heart alone, bestowed on the follies and fripperies of the world-on dress, operas, and jewels-while he yearns hopelessly for your sympathy and companionship? taught her to believe his tenderness inexhaus- enchanted him-won him. Nor was Emma tible? unmoved by his preference. Her splendid beauty had brought many suitors to her feet, some of them even wealthier than Charles Marlove, but none had touched her heart, and she disdained to sell herself for gold. Nay, nothing but strong self-respect, and a pure conscience, prevented her from rejecting Marlove, so sensitive was she on the subject of fortune hunting. They were married; and Charles soon surrounded his lovely wife with all the splendor which wealth can call up, as if by fairy enchantment, and which, although it gratified her refined and elegant tastes, did by no means dazzle her imagination. or turn her head. On the contrary, her affections clung purely to the husband of her choice, and when, after a year of very delightful companionship, she presented him with the pledge of their union, a happier couple could not have been found. And yet, when the objects of your solicitude become stale and distasteful; when pleasure palls upon the sense, and excitement flags, and the soul longs for purer enjoyments; you find, too late, that you have neglected or corrupted the spring of the affections, and the waters of life are bitter and unwholesome. I have a case in my mind's eye, which will be found in the following STORY OF THE HEART. Mrs. Marlove is a lady richly endowed by nature with susceptibilities and affections. At eighteen, her mind was free from taint or infection, her taste cultivated, and her heart " fancy free." She was not very romantic, but she had a soul capable of loving very sincerely, and, though without fortune, would not have married a millionaire, if he had been old, ugly, and soulless; but the fates favored her, and she did marry a man of wealth, but at the same time one who possessed "all those attributes which lend ideal charms to love." Charles Marlove was gifted with intellect of a high order, a handsome person, a generous heart, and great riches. Although he had been reared in luxury, his mind was neither enervated nor corrupted; and, although the foibles of fashionable life clung to him, and somewhat marred the symmetry of his manly character, he shook them off easily, when the occasion demanded it, and shone forth in his true light. Charles was near thirty before he married, for, though his heart was formed to enjoy domestic affections, he had met no one among the butterflies in the parterres of fashion who made a permanent impression upon him. At last came Emma Westbrook, the daughter of a respectable, but impoverished merchant, whose truly womanly character pleased him There are many things, however, which militate against domestic bliss in fashionable life. The exactions of that fantastic social code, which rules the ton, cause not unfrequently heart-aches and sorrowings in hearts, that would be pure if their possessors had the moral courage to set fashion at defiance, when she trenched upon holy ground. The Marloves, both by fortune and position, were entitled to move among the first circles, and thus not unfrequently, when inclination would have made home the pleasantest place on earth, the saloon or the ball-room found them mingling in its glittering and heartless crowds. Emma would have had the independence to forego much of the so-called pleasures, but Charles's foible was pride; and because he was proud, first of his wife, and next of his brilliant fortune, to which he was every day adding, he did not choose to throw away the occasion of displaying both. He did not value the affection of his wife less; and the sweet hours of domestic affection were still halcyon moments to him, but he sacrificed them to Pride. In this he never thought to consult the taste or true wishes of his companion, and Emma, pliant and placable, though she sometimes sighed in secret, smiled a ready assent to his views, and gradually found herself yielding to the whirl of fashionable excitement. Mr. Marlove was engaged in extensive mercantile transactions, and much of his time was necessarily engrossed through the day, in superintending his affairs. It happened, about two years after their marriage, that these became somewhat complicated. and demanded more strictly his attention. It was next to impossible that the world should not know his embarrassment, and quite impossible that it should not be exaggerated. Charles felt this; and, secure in his own calculations, determined to be in his style of living more liberal than ever, to ward off the imputation of compulsory retrenchment. At the club, too, he became a much more constant attendant, and entered with such spirit into the coteries of fashionable life, that he soon became an acknowledged leader, thereby entailing upon himself cares which monopolized another important portion of his time. Between all these various engrossments, his hours at home were rare. At first Emma sighed, and thought to reproach him; but there was no want of kindness when they were together, ard her heart refused to upbraid him; then she made up her mind to comply cheerfully with all his wishes, in regard to society, and flattered herself that if the sacred privacy of home was sacrificed, that at least in public they should be always together. Alas! how like a dream is promised happiness. Secure in the affections of his wife, and engrossed by society, Charles Marlove soon began to neglect those little occasions for tenderness and delicate attentions, which, unimportant as they may seem, make up the all of a fond woman's heart, and Emma began to sigh in bitterness for the sympathy of him whom she loved. Let us draw the curtain, and present a scene which occurred not quite three years after Emma's marriage. She had a brother who was an artist, a man of soul; a hero of dreamland, and a true philosopher of the world. Albert Westbrook loved his sister with a poet's love, pure, holy, and admiring; he was also attached to Charles Marlove, in whom he recognized many generous and congenial qualities, though their different experiences in life left little occasion for close companionship. The house and purse of Marlove would have been at his command, had his pride condescended to use them. for Charles appreciated and loved him; but, save to seek the frequent companionship of his sister, Westbrook availed himself not of his wealthy brother-in-law's friendship. Emma, who looked up to Albert almost with veneration, had, with instinctive delicacy, refrained from hinting to him her unhappiness, so that he was ignorant if a cloud shadowed the bliss of his well-beloved sister. It happened one morning that Albert West brook entered the Dusseldorf gallery, to examine a new picture, when he found a company of fashionables assembled, among whom he soon distinguished his sister, leaning on the arm, and listening with marked pleasure to the polished persiflage, of a young man of brilliant position in society, but whose character had created in Albert's breast a stronger feeling of aversion than he had before entertained towards any human. A frown contracted his brow, and as he was himself unseen by them, he half resolved to depart without noticing his sister, who, with her companion, was apart from the crowd. Just at the moment, however, some remarks of two or three fashionables, who were gathered before a picture, attracted his attention, and burnt deep into his soul "Oh! dear; do look how earnestly Fitzroy and Mrs. Marlove are engaged across the room there. I declare, quite a serious flirtation." "Hist!" said another, "it is too serious a matter for us to trifle with don't you know they are inseparable? I should not be surprised if a duel, or an action of crim. con., were the consequence." These remarks were made by a couple of young ladies, (?) who, with an elderly spinster, all dressed in the height of ton, and evidently belonged to the "upper ten," formed the group to which we have alluded. It would be impossible to describe the sharp pang of agony which Albert Westbrook experienced. Turning abruptly, before his sister perceived him, he departed. When Albert left the Dusseldorf, he proceeded at once to his own studio, which was only a block or two off, and immediately penned the following words, which his boy was directed to take at once to the gallery, and give to Mrs. Marlove: "Emma, come to my studio at once, and alone; I wish to see you. "ALBERT." Mrs. Marlove was startled at the receipt of this peremptory little billet, and at once turned pale with apprehension of some catastrophe ; then, although she had not seen her brother enter and leave the gallery, conscience painted her cheek, for she was aware just when she received his note, that she, a married woman, was almost flirting; and intuitively, she connected the message she had received, with the suspicion that, as Albert knew where she was, he knew also who was her companion Excusing herself to Mr. Fitzroy, who, as he handed her to the carriage, looked as if he expected to be asked to take a seat, she got in alone, and drove to her brother's room. She found Albert alone, pacing the floor. "Well, eccentric brother mine; why this hasty summons, and how did you know I was at the Dusseldorf?" "I saw you there." "And did not speak to me!" "No; but I heard others speak of you, in a way that displeased me, and I determined at once to give you a warning." "What under heaven do you mean, Albert? I know your dramatic talent; but this passes my comprehension. What could any one say of me that should give you such a tragedy face." There was an effort at self-possession, if not raillery, in Emma's tone, yet her voice trembled, and she turned perceptibly pale. "I will not disguise the matter, Emma, in studied phrase; but tell you at once, as it is my duty to do. They said the vicious gossips who were near you, and whose breath of scandal is poison as the deadly Upas to an honest woman's fame-they said that you-my sister the wife of Charles Marlove-received, and encouraged, the attentions of a libertine !" Mrs. Marlove sank, almost fainting, into a chair. Emma-but no, you need not, it is as plain as day, for we artists are clear-sighted in affairs of the heart-your husband neglects you." "No! no! Albert-not neglect; he is much engaged now, and cannot spare the time to escort me." He neglects you-not wilfully and intentionally, or I should hate him; but you experience that neglect, too common among married people, which wrecks so many hearts formed for mutual happiness. You are young, my sister, with a heart teeming with feelings and affections which demand constant sympathy. Charles, though he loves you sincerely, and is worthy of your love, is rather too much a man of the world for your poetical nature; you have felt, though you have not acknowledged his neglect, and you have innocently accepted the sympathy for which your soul longed, and which another, with insidious art, was ready to offer in his place. Do you not recognize truth in my words? Does not the prophetic spirit, which is ever present when we need it, lift the veil, and show you a possible future to shudder at ?” "Oh! true, true !-I am lost!" "No!-saved! To see your danger, is to shun it. This man, as yet, can have made no impression on a heart like yours; and Charles "Tis false" she gasped. "Oh! Albert, shall win you back to love and peace of mind." can you suspect me of dishonor ?” "No; but I would save you from it." "But how have I incurred this scandal? Surely, I have done nothing wrong. Mr. Fitzroy, for it is him to whom you allude, never breathed an impure thought to me, or I should have spurned him in an instant.” "Of course you would, Emma; yet he is not the person whom a married woman can be safely seen with too often." Emma made no reply, but was for some moments buried in reverie, which Albert would not disturb, for he knew communion with her own thoughts, at such an hour, was necessary, At length, raising her countenance, which was calm but sad, to his, she said: "Oh! Albert, what a lesson of the heart you have read me: but my husband, think you he loves me still?” "Fondly as ever." Surely, Albert, you wrong him; a more "And suppose he, too, should have heard gentlemanly and agreeable man I do not know, this slander; my God! what would become of and more noble and elevated sentiments I never heard, than he constantly expresses," said Emma, warmly. me!" "Fear not; I must see Charles within the hour. I must talk to him, as I only have the right. Get in your carriage, and go home to your child. I will be with you at dinner, and promise that all shall go well." If there is anything on earth that can win an erring woman back, it is the love of her offspring. "There, that will do," replied her brother. "When a married woman sees such attractions in another than her husband, and accepts his frequent attendance, be she chaste as Diana, there is danger. Oh! my sister, you have placed your foot upon the brink of a precipice." "Albert, you insult me!" she exclaimed, counting-house of his brother-in-law. He did turning very red. "Nay, be patient. Your soul is spotless now; God grant it may be ever so. Tell me, But, we must follow Albert Westbrook, to the not arrive one moment too early for his mission, for he found Charles, with a dark brow and a flushed cheek, alone in his sanctum, with a little note, on French paper, lying open before him. “Ah! Albert,” said he, recognizing the artist, "see here, sir! look what your sister has done -I am branded, sir, with shame! "I dare to tell you, you are doing great injustice to my sister; and that your neglect of her may prove fatal to the honor and happiness of both." "My neglect ?" "Oh! you supply her with all that wealth can buy, you provide her with every luxury, save one, which a soul like hers needs the sympathy and companionship of the man she loves. Come, Charles, let us talk together. Your And he thrust the billet into his hands. "Be quiet, Charles, for God's sake, or the clerks in the other room will notice your agitation. I have come to speak with you on this very subject." He glanced at the note, which was in a deli-wife is as yet pure and undefiled in thought cate female hand. It ran thus: "Mr. Marlove is informed, by a friend, to whom his honor is dear, that the gallant Mr. Fitzroy makes love to his wife, which she seems nothing loath to accept. Let him use his eyes at the Art-Union, or the Dusseldorf some morning, and he will be convinced. "DIANA." "Pshaw! Charles, is your faith in your wife so weak, as to be effected by such a contemptible missile as this?" LL But you just told me yourself, that you came to speak with me on the same subject," replied the other, coloring with a different emotion. "Besides, I know that Fitzroy has escorted Emma on several occasions." and deed, but she has been in the pathway of danger, though, thank God, I found her in time to save her. I have just sent her home to her child, and promised to dine with you both, after we have had some conversation together.” Long and earnest was the conference of the brothers; and the artist revealed to the man of business some new lessons of the heart, which were worth more than all his gold! With deep anxiety did Emma await the return of her brother, and when she saw him enter the parlor, in company with her husband, her heart almost stood still; but, when the latter, with ill-concealed emotion, extended his arms, she flew to his bosom with a cry of joy, and, in the warm embrace that followed, their hearts were re-united forever! Mr. Fitzroy found his place by the side of the lovely Emma occupied by one who had a more legitimate claim, and was forced to console himself with the society of a certain lady, "I came to tell you that you are neglecting your own happiness. I saw Emma at the Dusseldorf this morning myself, and Mr. Fitzroy was her companion, and a very agreeable one she seemed to think him.” "There! by Heavens! you dare to tell me who is strongly suspected of having sent the of it yourself." note written on French paper. ORIGIN OF THE CENSUS. troness of funerals and undertakers. They erected a temple to her honor, and required, that whenever a person died, the friends of the deceased should deposit a small coin therein, as a peace-offering to the goddess on behalf of the dead. The coin thus deposited, was called "Libitinai ratio," and none failed to comply with what was established as a sacred ceremony. This being done, the proper officer had only to count the pieces of coin, at stated intervals, to obtain the correct number, or census of the dead for that period. This is said to be the first effort that was ever made to obtain a census of either the living or HISTORY has fully informed us, that the authorities of Ancient Rome governed the masses by a system of superstitious rites and ceremonies, and a mythology was created, adapted to this system. It entered into the most minute affairs of life, as well as matters of public importance; nothing was done without an invocation to either the god, or goddess, that presided over that particular action, and, when there was no deity on the calendar having jurisdiction over what it was desirable to Accomplish, they created one, and consecrated it for the emergency. Thus, when the Romans wished to obtain a census of the dead, they set up" LIBITINA," and designated her as the pa-, the dead. THE YOUNG MARTYR. A LIFE SCENE OF THE REVOLUTION. BY THOMAS R. WHITNEY. OON after the defeat of the Americans, at Brooklyn, in the latter part of the month of August, 1776, by the British force under General Howe, and while General Washington yet held possession of New-York, the following incident, illustrative of the courage and devotion of those engaged in the cause of Independence, occurred. The Commander-in-chief of the American forces sat alone in his apartment, busily engaged in examining the correspondence of the committee of Congress, that had been appointed to confer with Lord Howe, who had recently arrived with overtures of a humiliating nature from the mother country. The time was early evening; and as twilight fell upon the earth, the papers were laid momentarily aside. They conveyed to him the intelligence that the overtures of the crown had not been accepted, on the ground that the crown refused to treat with America. except in the former character of colonies subordinate to the royal mandate. The war must be continued! In the midst of his reflections on the communications just received, Washington was inter rupted by the entrance of an Aid-de-camp, who informed him that an officer, for whom he had sent, waited without in answer to his summons. "Invite him to my apartment, and let us be uninterrupted," said the General. The Aid retired, and in a few moments returned, accompanied by a youth wearing the uniform of a captain in the Continental Militia. He was an officer attached to the Connecticut draft, at that time quartered in the city of New-York. The Commander-in-chief arose and welcomed him warmly. Lights were brought in, and the youthful officer was alone with the Father of his country. "My young friend," said Washington, "I have sent for you, to confer on a delicate subject. There are few men, however devoted in the sacred cause in which we are engaged, with whom I can freely commune, and to whom it would be prudent to reveal all my intentions. It is sometimes difficult, sir, even for the Commander-in-chief to know who are, and who are not, our enemies. There are traitors even in my own household." "I trust your Excellency has no doubt of my sincerity ?" inquired the youth, in a tone of pride. "No, my friend; had I doubted you, this interview would not have occurred. Be assured, that my solicitation of this visit, is the result of an unbounded confidence in your attachment to our cause." The youth bowed, and was silent. "Are you aware," continued the General, "of the result of the interview that has just been held between the committee appointed by the Continental Congress, and Lord Howe ?" "I am not, your Excellency." This, then, will inform you," said Washington, placing a letter in his hands. The young officer glanced over the paper. It was signed, BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. "I see, sir," said he, after perusing the sheet, a faint smile lighting up his features as he spoke- I see, sir, that we must fight it out. There is |