person whom all Paris yet talks about; and, since the public voice has informed you who she is, I will not pretend to make any mystery of her story."

Proceed, proceed," said l'Eveille; and he approached nearer to the governess.

will meet you, and, from all appearances, bring you favorable news."

With this conversation they separated. L'Eveille hastened to rejoin his father, and apprised him of all that had taken place. Licoq shared the hopes and "You must know, my dear sir," said the latter, the suspicions of his son; but, amid the prospect of "that the father of my mistress was a distinguished success, his paternal tenderness awoke the latent fear Polish prince, who came to Paris expressly with the of his heart. He trembled at the peril which the view of ruining the reputation of a young tradeswoman young man was about to encounter; and, to diminish of the Rue Saint Dennis. It was in consequence of it in a degree, he gathered together the agents of the a bet, as we afterwards learned, which he had made police, explained to them briefly the nature of the in his own country. The profligate noble won his duties required of them, and, above all, besought them bet. He degraded the object of his deception. My to keep as near as possible to his son, but not, howmistress was born. At the sight of his child, the ever, in a manner to defeat the success of his enterPolish prince, rallying the better part of his nature, prise. Finally, he put himsetf at the head of the deburst into tears, and fell at the feet of his victim. I tachment, that nothing should go wrong which might will go,' he exclaimed, and prostrate myself before have been prevented by his superintendence. my sovereign. He will consent to our union. Be- As soon as it was dark, l'Eveille, more splendidly lieve thy lover, who swears it. Adieu! He depart-attired than ever, presented himself at the place aped, and was never seen afterwards. The common pointed. As the gates of the church were closed, an rumor was, that he was assassinated by brigands.-old woman, poorly habited and hooded, issued from You perceive, young man, how heaven, sooner or the porch, and, casting furtive glances around her, later, avenges outraged virtue. The Polish monarch soon recognized l'Eveille, and made signs to him to having become informed of the unworthy conduct of follow. the prince, desired to make all the reparation in his power. He sent couriers to Paris. Alas! the young tradeswoman of the Rue Saint Dennis was no more; but her daughter, sir, survived-the daughter whom you saw walking before me, and whom the Polish monarch has made sole inheritress of the estates of the prince, her father; and my mistress is at this day one of the wealtiest heiresses in Paris. Happy he who shall espouse her!"

For a lad of spirit, such as you appear to be, you ask singular questions. Good day, sir."

"One word more," exclaimed l'Eveille, playing the passionate lover to admiration, considering he was a debutant both in the art of the police and of Cupid66 one word more, I conjure you."

The governess, who had risen, again seated herself.

It was now the turn of l'Eveille to speak. He assured the governess, with the most perfect coolness and consummate ingenuity, that he was the son of a physician, a wealthy citizen of Mans, and had been sent to Paris to attend the lectures at the University. "It is ten days," said he, "since I have been in this country. My father has spared no money to enable me to make an appearance. I have two hundred pistoles in my purse, a costly chain to my watch, rings on my fingers; and, egad! I mean to let people see that a man may be a man of parts, and yet have money to spend, and know how to spend it, too. Ha! ha! ha!"

"Ha! ha ha!" responded the old woman. She chuckled both from pleasure and from pity; took the hand of l'Eveille, and said, "You have completely won my heart, and I entertain for you a real affection. I will prove it. Listen. My mistress has just seen you. You struck her fancy, and she persuaded me to find out who you were. I am charmed that she has made so good a choice. This evening, be at the great porch of the church of Saint Germain-l'Auxerois; there I

"I should hardly have recognized you," said the young man; what habilaments!"'

They are those of prudence, my son," was the reply. "I would not like to be found out by the numerous admirers of my mistress, who, enraged at not being able to gain me over to their interests, are so many spies upon my steps. Heaven preserve us! Our house is surrounded by these coxcombs, as a hive is by bees. But come, let us make haste; and, by way of precaution, let me put this bandage over your eyes. It is a delicate attention, which is practised by all our young Parisians, whenever they attend their ladyloves in this manner. Consent; for I am sure that Mademoiselle Jabirouska (for that is the name of her you go to see) will be flattered by the compliment, and thank you for it, my handsome friend."

"No, no," said l'Eveille, in reply to this invitation, "I will put on no bandage."

"Well, come along then," said the old woman, anxious to bring the affair to a conclusion, " I will not let my mistress be angry."

They walked on, the female keeping some paces ahead of the young adventurer, while the spies of Lecoq followed cautiously in the rear. The matter appeared to be in the train of successful accomplishment. They passed through the streets of l'ArbreSec and La Monnale-traversed by a circuitous route those of Betizy, Lavandieres, Tauvaises Paroles, DeuxBoules, and Jean-Lambert, and finally came to a stop in Orfevres street, which is not the least hideous in this black and infected quarter of the city. The house before which they rested was of sufficiently respectable appearance, but the old woman intimated to l'Eveille that her mistress did not take up her residence there constantly, but, as it belonged to her, she had thought proper to receive him there-whereupon she said she would apprise the young lady of the arrival of her gallant. The old reprobate departed, and l'Eveille remained with a firm heart, waiting for her return. His father, to encourage him-although he himself shook with agitation-crossed the street, and silently pressed his hand. He had hardly parted from his son, when the old woman returned, and renewed her entreaties that the young man would permit her

A sofa, covered with crimson velvet, and ornamented with letters of gold, occupied one side of the room, and upon this sofa reclined, in a most graceful deshabille, the daughter of Prince Jabirouska, Mademoiselle Jabirouska. At the sight of the stranger, she arranged, with a hand sparkling with brilliants, the floating folds of her open robe, saluted the young man with a gracious smile, and dismissed the duenna with a nod. Poor l'Eveille was quite enchanted. The view of this beautiful girl completely fascinated him. The youthful spy, the crafty son of Lecoq, all at once forgot the part he came to play. He, who intended to entrap, was himself entrapped. As he gazed in speechless wonder on the bright creature before him, she rose and presented him her hand, which he covered with kisses. Their eyes met, and each understood the burning intelligence they conveyed. L'Eveille was but mortal, and he soon lost all consciousness of danger, as well as all recollection of the object of his enterprise.

of his terrified fancy, he fancied he saw, through the glass, other trunkless heads fix upon him their flaming eyes. With hands clasped, hair on end, and features paler than those of the dead around him, the appalled youth sunk upon his knees.

At this moment the window was broken through with a loud crash, and the elder Lecoq, followed by the agents of the police, rushed into the apartment. Alarmed at the silence of his son, and believing him to have been assassinated, the father had bravely forced an entrance into the accursed mansion by means of a scaling-ladder. This opportune temerity was the means of saving, in effect, the life of l'Eveille, for, immediately upon the noise made by Lecoq and his attendants in entering the chamber, Mademoiselle Jabirouska, escorted by four ruffians, armed to the teeth, hurried into the apartment. The police were, however, too numerous for them. Resistance was useless, and the four bandits, as well as the girl, their accomplice, were immediately put into irons and confined. After a close examination of the building, no

other inmate was discovered.

Now for the explanation of this remarkable narrative. An association of malefactors was formed, all who had been doomed to the gibbet or the gallows. The chief of the band had organized his plan as follows:-A woman whom he had encountered in his travels served as a lure for the young men who were abducted. These unfortunates, after having been enticed to their ruin by this modern Messalina, who appears to have been a sort of monomaniac in the indulgence of her passions, were delivered over to the assassins, who, having put them to death, separated the head from the body. The latter was sold to the students of anatomy, while the head, having been prepared and embalmed, was valuable at that time in Germany, in the pursuit of a science which has since become somewhat fashionable—we allude to the science of which Gall and Spurzheim were the principal propagators.

In the meanwhile, the father was in the street with his attendants, waiting impatiently for the concerted signal, which was to be the notice for their entrance into the house. Not hearing any signal, he finally made one himself, by firing off a pistol. Even under the blandishments of Mademoiselle Jabirouska, the young l'Eveille started at the sound. The noise recalled his energies, and brought him to himself. Shortly afterwards the prince's daughter withdrew; and l'Eveille profited by her absence to examine the chamber. He attempted to unfold a screen, but the leaves seemed nailed together. He shook them forcibly, when one of them fell and revealed a high and secret closet, where, ranged upon twenty-six plates of silver, lay the heads of twenty-six young men, dissected, and preserved in a manner as astonishing as it was frightful. Here was a spectacle for the volup-hung; and the alarm which had been raised in Paris tuary! by the abduction of so many promising young men He approached the window; but, in the excitement gradually subsided, and was forgotten.

The Government were apprehensive of the effect of the divulgation of such a series of crimes. They adopted prompt measures for the condign but secret The wretches were punishment of the culprits.

OR, SKETCHES OF EMINENT LIVING AMERICAN DIVINES. [Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1848, by CHARLES W. HOLDEN, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York.]

XIV.

REV. ORVILLE DEWEY, D. D.

[ORIGINAL.]

REV. ORVILLE DEWEY was born in Sheffield, Berk- haps more than any similar institution in New Engshire county, Mass., in the year 1794. His father was land, for exerting a decidedly religious influence upon a farmer of easy habits and humorous conversation, its members. It has been distinguished for the freoccupying a highly respectable position as a citizen. quency of those wonderful seasons, when an earnest He gave his son all the advantages of education thought of spiritual verities pervades the public mind: which the village afforded, and sent him, at the age of when the eternal and unseen assert their supremacy seventeen, to Williams College, situated at Williams- over the temporal and seen-those seasons usually town, in the same county, where he connected him- known by the name of "Revivals." A class rarely, self, for the purpose of pursuing his academical studies, if ever, graduates at this institution, without coming with the Sophomore class. This institution has ever under the power of one such solemn experience. maintained a high reputation for thorough and correct This distinctive character of Williams College is teachings. It has also enjoyed the reputation, per-presented, in order to a full understanding of an an

During the latter part of his Junior year he was attacked by that provoking disease, the measles, which seated in his eyes, and incapacitated them for literary use. But, undiscouraged by this, he went forward with his class, having all the text books of Senior year read to him by his room-mate. We have thus spoken of his intellectual promise. His early religious life deserves at least an equal notice. He had been religiously educated, and coming under the influences of the institution, to which allusion has already been made, he was led to think earnestly and feel deeply end of man?" The spiritual world became a living fact to him. He felt the power of an endless lifeand true to himself and to his immortal nature, he sought, in the path of duty, the fulfilment of the great purpose of his being. The higher life was implanted in his soul-a life, whose pulsations shall continue when the heart shall have ceased its throbbings, and which shall expand in power, and increase in beauty, through all the ages of eternity. He entered on the path of duty with the honesty and the energy that characterized all his undertakings. That path he deemed a thorny one, with few flowers to beguile, and few resting-places to relieve. Eeither by a natural bias, or influences about him, he was led to deem the Christian life one of self-denial, that bordered on penance, and of discipline that savored of expiation. "We are strangers and pilgrims here," was his actuating, if not his spoken motto. He looked upon this life as one of gloom, struggle, warfare, in preparation for one of joy, peace, triumph. How long this state of mind continued, we do not know; whether right or not, we do not decide.

ecdote we are tempted to relate as an evidence of the | and severe upon all his own literary productions; anunusual esteem Mr. Dewey had won already, in his alyzing, revising and pruning, with a faithfulness that boyhood, by the development of an uncommon char- bespoke uncommon merit, which gained him pre-emiacter. It seems there was living at this time in Shef- nence in his class as a classical scholar, though in the field, a relation-a man who may be considered as sterner mathematics he had not that reputation. In the representative of a class of men numerous at that the year 1814 he graduated with the highest honors time, men of strong minds, independent views, shrewd of the institution, having received the appointment of insight, and keen wit; men abhorrent of hypocrisy, Valedictorian to his class. cant, and shows of all kinds; shrewd enough to detect errors in religion, and too ignorant to dispel them, holding mere "book knowledge" in exceeding slight repute, and yet too independent to believe what was not understood, too proud to pretend to a belief they did not hold; and who thus were, as a matter of course, at first secretly skeptical, and at last openly infidel. Besides this man, there were others of the same stamp in Sheffield, whose custom it was to hold what they sarcastically called "Sabbath-night meeting" weekly, in the bar-room of the village inn. There, sarcasm, jest, and ribaldry upon serious sub-in reference to the great question, "What is the chief jects, echoed from mouth to mouth, while the bottle passed from hand to hand. At such times, as indeed on every occasion when he was present, the old man guided, inspired, and ruled. He was the moving spirit, the life and soul of the company. Abstaining from sensual indulgence himself, he established his supremacy both by his abstinence and the keen edge of his poisoning wit. In some way, Young Dewey, who had been his pupil in a select class, pursuing the higher mathematical studies, had established a strange influence over this strong-minded infidel. It is plain in what way. The keen insight of the elder had detected the germ of intellect and read the firm character of the younger. He foresaw that "Orville" would be great he was already conscious of his greatness, and he respected him. So, as he was leaving for college, and the old man came to bid him " Good bye," he said, "Now, Orville, you are going to college, and like all the rest of 'em you'll get converted there; and when you do, I want you to write me a letter and tell me all about it, for I can trust you." The prophecy was fulfilled-the requested letter was written. The old man read it and read it again. The Sabbath came, and he was at church all day, a place unknown to him for a score of years before, and great infirmity of age did not permit him to visit but little again. The scornful jest was never more heard from his lips, nor was the horrid oath again pronounced; but the old man would sit silently by his fireside and read that letter, and pore over it for hours; then placing it in his pocket, he would get up, take down the Bible from the shelf, and open its long-neglected pages; and then again unfold the letter and read and muse evening after evening. That letter he always carried with him till his last sickness, which came upon him not long after. With the unbending sterness of "one of the olden time," he never disclosed his feelings; but that worship he had neglected, he now urged on others, saying, "go to church not to hear the sermon, but to worship God," and who would not yield to the belief that when he passed the portals of the eternal world, he left all his sins behind, and entered that world of light where the "Sun of Righteousness" dispelled all the darkness of skepticism, and the strong intellect revelled in the fullness of an eternity of truth. At college Mr. Dewey took a high stand. He was thorough in all his undertakings, cultivating rhetoric with an uncommon perseverance. He was critical

After leaving college, Mr. Dewey spent some time at his home in Sheffield in teaching a school, and then in New York as clerk in a dry goods store. The affection of his eyes rendered it impossible for him to read, and thus two years elapsed after his graduation before he entered Andover Theological Seminary to pursue his professional studies. During most of his course there, as well as at college, he was dependent upon a reader for all his information from books.

While at Andover he became acquainted with the advocates of a religious belief based upon a different philosophy from that which had swayed his previous life, a philosophy whose principles we care not here to discuss, but which is manifested in efforts to develope and refine man's nature, as it is, rather than to renew or recreate it. Hence it inculcates the use of all the means calculated to refine or elevate, and all the pursuits which will promote happiness or excite innocent pleasure. This new view of life, representing it as a period of happy development, rather than of harassing discipline, was presented to one of keen sensibilities, alive to all that is beautiful in nature, all that is glorious in art, all that is melodious in music, all that is fascinating in literature, and all that is rich in social life. We know not through what doubts, what inquiries, what struggles he passed; but it was not long

after he graduated at the seminary, which occurred in | lips, that it would have been a relief to me to have

the year 1819, ere he united himself with the new sect, and was known as an Unitarian.

bowed my head, and to have wept without restraint, throughout the whole service. And yet I did not weep; for there was something in that impression too solemn and deep for tears. I claim perfection for nothing human; and, perhaps, my idea of this kind of communication goes beyond anything I have ever

solemn words of Jesus Christ, at which the heart stands still to listen; and which it is wonderful that anybody dares ever to dilute into prolix comments.— But certainly no preaching that I have heard has come so near, in this respect, to the model in my mind—I say not irreverently, the great model-as the preaching of Channing.”

In this change of sentiment and of association we have not the least doubt that he acted with that conscientiousness, that devotion to what he deemed to be duty, that resolve to follow the truth wherever it might lead, and that disregard of consequences in the pur-heard. No words ever realized it but those calm and suit that had guided him in the previous experiences of his Christain life. He was as honest and as sincere now as when in college under a deep sense of the infinite responsibilities of an accountable and immortal being he felt the danger of all pleasure, and disregarded all worldly enjoyments. It could hardly be said he denied himself. We know that in the change he broke away from all that is calculated to bind a man to wonted courses of action. He knew that he If we take into view the uncommon promise which was sacrificing that which a sensitive mind starts Mr. Dewey's academical life afforded we shall not quickest at, the possibility of sacrificing the good opin-wonder at the sensation produced in the religious comion of old friends, of class-mates and of teachers.-munity by the change in his views. Besides, he was That some of the highest walks of society were in- already known by his preaching, having acted as an viting him cannot be denied. Whether he was right agent of the American Education Society in Massaor no, we do not decide. The point we wish to make, chusetts; and thus having preached in a number of and the only one, is, that in both courses of life at the congregational churches. The sect of his late adopcollege and after he left the seminary, he was honest tion rejoiced. The one of his desertion mourned.— and conscientious. In his sermon ".On the Character A few of the former boasted. A few of the latter reand Writings of Channing," he uses these words, in viled. His personal friends discussed and labored which we think we detect an allusion to personal ex- with him. These discussions he did not avoid, till perience: they were deemed by himself and all, superfluous.— He seemed to be honestly seeking for the truth. doubt not that he felt a hearty conviction, that his search had not been in vain. These are the facts in regard to an interesting feature of religious experiences. They are very suggestive; they deserve to be well pondered by all. Here we leave them.

*“It is no ordinary task to stand up against the most cherished religious ideas of a whole people. It involves sacrifices and trials, which those only who have shared in the undertaking, can understand. It is one thing to be welcomed on every side; it is another thing to be, on every hand, repelled with horror."

Neither was this new alliance entered upon rashly or inconsiderately. It was the result of reflection by a reflecting mind; of scrutiny by a discriminating mind; of weighing of argument by a logical mind. It was done with a clear head and a sound heart.

His character, as a man, and as a religious man, was not essentially changed by this change of views. It was modified in some measure, but only so far as would result from the wider range he allowed his mind to take, and the intelligence in recreative enjoyments granted. He allowed time for the cultivation of a natural taste for the fine arts, a love for nature, and a passion for literature. But withal he was the same religiously minded, devout, upright man. Though the surface of his being had been somewhat shifted, the firm substrata remained unmoved. No influences rocked or started that. However much his theological views may be liked or disliked, can any one doubt the firm foundation of his piety? It was before his espousal of Unitarianism that he first heard Dr. Channing from the pulpit. How much this sermon had to do with the change is not known. The effect upon himself he beautifully describes in the following words:

I shall never forget the effect upon me, of the first sermon I ever heard from him. Shall I confess, too, that, holding then a faith somewhat different from his, I listened to him with a certain degree of distrust and prejudice? These barriers, however, soon gave way; and such was the effect of the simple and heart-touching truths and tones which fell from his

We

After his graduation, Mr. Dewey preached for awhile at Gloucester, in Massachusetts, and also at Boston, having been invited to supply the pulpit of Dr. Channing, during his absence in Europe. About this time he connected himself in marriage with Miss Farnham of Boston, a lady who had deservedly won his devoted attachments. In the year 1823 he received and accepted a call to become the pastor of an Unitarian church in New Bedford, where he remained, ten years. This connection was very delightful. He says of it himself that he felt in it a "satisfaction not marred by one moment's disagreement, nor by the altered eye of one individual, during the ten years' continuance of that most delicate and affecting relationship."

In June of the year 1833, Mr. Dewey went abroad for his health, visiting England, Ireland, Scotland, France, Switzerland, Germany and Italy. He spent one year in these travels, which resulted both in the improvement of his health, and in the publication of a book, entitled "The Old World and the New." We like this book not only for its descriptions of places, things and men, for these any ordinary man can give; but we like it especially for its reflections, and these but few men can give properly. By reflections we do not mean the sad ruminations, the croakings over the dishonesty of the people, the downfall of nations, and the destruction of antiques; but we mean those thoughts, racy or reverent, serious or staistical, philosophical or foolish, which will be suggested by anything that a thoughtful man, sees. We have in this book some of the best criticisms we have seen on painting, on music, on sculpture, on men, and things,