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of their Gentile neighbor at at least twice as much liken Utah, with her lofty mountains, rich valleys, as that of their brother in the faith.

and great dead sea, not without reason, to the Thus far this people have succeeded in defying land of Palestine, and give to their own chief city the laws and the Government of the United States. the name of Zion. They greatly prefer the early This is the result, partly of their pernicious jury faith of the Hebrews to the Gospel of Christ, system, partly of the unity and power of the and in their similes, customs, and belief approach Church, in some degree of their plan of intimida. nearer to the abominations of the Orient than to tion of the weaker brethren, who incline to the the virtues which should belong to an American right, and especially of the mysterious influence and a Christian people. which they have exerted for years in the depart- A little prompt legislation is required from ments in Washington and in Congress. Bound Congress. Good juries can and should be protogether by oaths terrible to the ignorant mind, cured in Utah the same as elsewhere. A few laws one Mormon will not convict another of a crime, should be modified. The people of this nation except, as in the case of John D. Lee, when in- should see to it that Congress does its whole duty. structed to do so by the highest Church authorities We advise no special legislation against the Saints; for the promotion of Church measures.

but we do desire such action as will Americanize Such is the sect, the members of which see in Utah, and render her people as amenable to the the act of Guiteau the fulfillment of some of their laws as they are in the other Territories. prophecies, and who congratulate each other that Possessed of an educated, refined, and law. they have received further evidence of their being abiding people, Utah might well be regarded as finally avenged upon all of their enemies. They an earthly paradise.

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There was roast beef and mutton
Enough for a glutton;
And when he had finished, his clothes would not button;
While the pie and the tart,
Made with consummate art,
Were just as they should be, and quite to his heart.
Then the veal and the stew,
And the cucumbers too,
Were sights for an epicure's vision to view.

He groaned and he grumbled,
He tossed and he tumbled;
But mutt'ring and mumbling,
Or tossing and tumbling,
Brought never a wink
Or the sign of a blink
To the eyes of the deacon, who swore some, I think.

For a man of his size
He had very large eyes,
And a belly you'd find it a task to surprise;
But it must be confessed
That beneath his white vest
Lay an indolent, turbulent, quarrelsome pest,
Which stirred up his bile
In an unpleasant style
And never allowed him a moment of rest.
For the Lord, in his mercy a bountiful giver,
Had cursed Deacon Jones with a very bad liver.

So, when he retired to his couch for the night,
After “doffing' his breeches and “dowsing” the light,
Could you wonder he felt, as another man might,
That the prospects of sleeping were not very bright?

Now this fellow Jones was a man who did right,
And was to his parish its sole “shining light;">

every one vowed
That he prayed very loud,
And certainly did read the Gospel aright.
So, surely, a man of his goodness and years
Would scarcely be troubled with pagan-like fears;
But nevertheless as he lay in the gloom-
Unable to see to the end of the room-
He was prone to believe
That his eyes did deceive,
Yet he thought that he saw a real spook on a broom!
In an instant his heart
Gave a bond and a start,
While his fishy blue eyes
Opened wide in surprise,
And the hair on his head felt as if it must rise.

Ev'ry moment it grew
More distinct to his view
With its horrid long horns and its horrid tail too,
While a halo around it-decidedly blue-
Disclosed to the gaze (this description's not new)

In vain did he turn with the hope of repose, And test all the dodges that every one knows,

Then, giving a smirk,
Half nod and half jerk,
The goblin pranced round, like a savage old Turk,
With his broom in his hand, as a man holds a dirk
When up to some mischief or dangerous work.
While his victim (poor fellow !)
Turned blue, green, and yellow,
And grunted in tones like a violin-cello.


“Oh, spare me, gocd sprite!
I have always done right,
And never deserved such a terrible fright.
There's a man 'cross the way
By the name of De Gay
Who's been a worse man than myself in his day."


A very long nose and a very long chin
Stretched ever apart in a sinister grin.
Are you there, Deacon Jones ?”
Came in sepulchral tones;
And the answer was given in side-splitting groans,
For the ague had certainly captured his bones.

“ Tut, tut," said the goblin ! “nonsensical stuff!
When folks aren't looking, you're wicked enough;
And as to your piely, that is held tight
In reserve for a Sunday or prayer-meeting night,
Nor ever once brought
Into every-day thought,
As you have been preaching, such principles ought.
So, knowing your mind,
Old Nick is inclined
To claim you as one of his own savored kind;
And if you are wise,
You will hasten to rise
Ere morning shall take us by sudden surprise."

With limbs that quaked at every joint,
With mind confused on every point,
The deacon said, No,
He had rather not go,

Once again came the sound
Which had made his heart bound,
And the deacon, in terror, looked carefully round,
Half thinking a way of escape could be found;
But, alas for his plight!
The abominable sight
Had stationed itself by the door to his right,
Thus totally crushing all hopes of a flight.
Seeing which the good Jones,
In his humblest of tones,
Interspersing his speech with a great many moans,
Pleaded hard that the fright
Would retire for the night
And leave him to quiet his weary old bones.


“Oh, do please avaunt
And some other man haunt,
As surely a deacon is not what you want.
So I beg of you go,
For you certainly know
That I preach against sinning or anything low.”

“Oho!” said the spook, with a comical lurch,
“I see that you think every member of church
Is safe, beyond question ;
But I've a suggestion
That those who are given to making long prayers,
With a great many Aukes and self-sanctified airs
Are the ones whom the Devil will catch unawares.
While as to deacons, you're greatly mistaken :
We broil 'em on griddles, like slices of bacon.':


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“ Yes, yes,” said the spook, with a hideous leer; “ To those who don't know you it seems very queer. But listen a moment, and then you shall hear If all are blind, as they sometimes appear.

'Tis true you have given to distant Hindoos,
And furnished new shoes for the young Kickapoos ;
But well do you know" (here the sprite cut some capers)
“ That every new gift has its line in the papers;
And I'm half inclined
To believe that your mind
Is wholly absorbed in the axe you've to grind.
So have little hope that the pounds you have given
Will budge you one jot on your road up to heaven;
Nor think you, like some, that a death-bed repentance
Will save even deacons from getting just sentence.”

He was fully prepared; \
And then with his broom, which had changed to a fork,
He prodded old Jones, as if turning some pork ;
While the poor fellow screamed (though he felt he

would choke),
Until, breaking the spell, he awoke !—yes, awoke
To find his fond wife,
Ever faithful to life,
Very wakeful, and ready for war to the knife;
And who said (what is more)
She had never before,
Nor since, heard a sound that could equal his snore.

In vain the victim groaned aloud;
In vain he prayed, in vain he vowed,
In vain he sought a chance to fly;
The frightful phantom hovered nigh
And firmly declared

And now, in conclusion, I wish to remark
That goblins and sprites, being fond of a lark,
Are frequently known to appear after dark.
So, if you'd not witness some terrible sight,-
A strange apparition, a phantom, or sprite,-
Be sure that you keep yourself straight in the head,
And with a clear conscience go early to bed;
And if you've a liver which raises your ire,
Eat very light suppers before you retire !



By M. S. V. De V.

It is constantly said that frontiers have ceased of his contributions, but they only added to his to exist, that oceans are bridged over, that steam popularity by creating around his name that notoand electricity have annihilated distance, and that riety which is like the baptism of fire to the unevery throb of the great human machine reverb- tried soldier. Through the whole of America and erates in both hemispheres. If this is true in Europe his “Tales of the Argonauts," "Eastern matters political, financial, or commercial, how Sketches," "National Poems," "Spanish Idylls," how much more in the domain of imagination, were favorably received and promptly translated. science, and art !—for we hail with fresh interest They brought to the blasé reader a fresh and racy every new effort, triumph, or discovery, irrespect- element, impelling at the same time the conviction ive of the accident of its birth. It is, therefore, that truth lurked under those seemingly fantastic no wonder that we Europeans instantly responded pictures of the Far West; of those Californian to the double attraction exercised by so gifted an shores which have been the dream of so many, author as Mr. Bret Harte, when in his writings he i the goal of a few; the unknown land of golden not only gratified our taste for the beautiful, but hopes, of ardent ambitions, and too often, alas! likewise that innate craving of every mind for new of deadly disappointment. scenes, new characters, and new emotions.

Bret Harte wrote of things he had seen, of men Quite lately a new and complete edition of bis he had known; wrote, as is so rarely done, of works (“The Complete works of Bret Harte.


what he had felt or experienced. They cannot be vols. Chatto & Windus”), classified and re- all creatures of his imagination, those lawless vised by himself, has enabled the public to ap- miners, unscrupulous gamblers, hardy adventurpreciate the fertility of his talent both as an author 'ers, or hungry emigrants, uniting the strongest and a poet, and to judge of his labors as a whole; powers of endurance, the most heroic fortitude, while until now they had only drifted to us in the to the degrading passions of the brute and the shape of contributions to magazines or isolated sanguinary vindictiveness of bandits, who acvolumes.

knowledge no master, no law, no God. With a When, about fourteen years ago, the name of keen eye, a searching scrutiny, he seizes and Bret Harte first became known in Europe his repu- , retains every feature, every salient tone of the tation was made, and we accepted it without pro- story he relates; he paints the mise en scène in test, although it burst upon us as suddenly as we short but powerful and graphic sketches: a few are told it blossomed full-grown in his native land, words only, and before our mind's eye pass the the United States. In his literary career he seems

desolate Sierra, the rushing torrent, the snowy to have met none of the discouraging rebuffs which peak, the dilapidated shanty, the dark and lonely so often chill the efforts of beginners; he did not road.

When the actors appear, they are linger with wavering and timid footsteps on the living men and women, not puppets; their mirth up-hill road where so many slowly and tardily is riotous, their manners are rough, their passions achieve success. The young author grasped his fierce, but the warm blood courses through their pen with no hesitating fingers, and before it was veins, and now and then leaps to their brow. generally known that a new aspirant to literary Whatever their failings, their vices, or their honors had entered the lists, these honors were crimes, they always remain faithful to their nature his, and he was proclaimed a master without ever and individuality, and move in perfect harmony having been a pupil. We do not mean to say with the surroundings in which they are framed. that the critics did not fasten their fangs on some It has been said that, judging Bret Harte from

the majority of his writings, it may be gathered 1 This article, by an English contributor, gives the reader that he has on the whole a poor opinion of huan idea of the estimation in which Mr. Harte is held as a manity; that in his genius there is a satirical, not writer by Europeans.- ED.

to say cynical vein, which leads him ever to select

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