THE TRAITOR'S END.

MORE than half a century ago, a terrible storm swept over the city of London. It was the hour of midnight, when the blast was beating most piteously, that an aged clergyman was aroused by a piercing cry for help. He rose, threw aside his curtain, and beheld the form of a rude man, who appeared as a common street-sweeper. The rain poured in torrents, but the imploring accents of the call induced the preacher to take the arm of his guide; and, threading his way through narrow streets and rude thoroughfares, he arrived at a rude dwelling wherein lay a dying man. A strange tale was his. That very day a stranger, advanced in life, had fallen speechless at the scavenger's door. The kind-hearted scavenger had lifted him from the pavement, opened for him his bed, warmed his feet, administered a cordial, and now he was dying!

The apartment was indeed a dreary one. Up a long flight of rickety stairs, inside a door half-hingeless, on a narrow pallet of straw, lay this same stranger. The lamp burnt dimly on a broken chair; a few fading embers were on yonder hearth; a teapot without a handle stood upon it. The rain was beating at the window, and in sundry panes were stuffed coarse pieces of clothing. A valise stood by the bedside -it was the only property which the stranger brought with him. The man was only half-dressed; his coat was thrown aside, his neck was loosely encased within a low shirt-collar, but upon his legs there were a pair of huge military boots!

That face! there was an expression there, which, once looked upon, would haunt your memory for ever! That forehead, bold and manly; hair slightly changed by age; lips compressed, but yet moving, as if life were loth to quit its hold, and large, rolling eyes that beamed with an unearthly glare.

What a spectacle! Those arms are brandished in the air; that fist seems clenching a sword, or holding a rifle; a damp, cold sweat starts from that hand, and wildly does he toss himself from side

to side on his uneasy couch. Throb and beat, throb and beat, alternately, went that poor man's heart, for he was dying. The clergyman took hold of that clenched hand, and gently bending his head, inquired, "My friend, hast thou a Christian faith?"

"Christian?" he echoed, in a loud voice, for the first time and in a deep tone, which made the preacher tremble. "Will Christianity give me back my honour? Go with me over the blue waters. Listen! We have arrived. There is my native village, there is the green dooryard in which my boyhood played, there is the roof of my paternal mansion, there is the graveyard, but where is the flag that used to wave? Another ensign is floating, my infamy is uttered by the mouths of children, parents are taught to loathe my memory. Oh, my God! the sting of remorse is throbbing in these very temples; judgments are imprecated by dark demons; a tarnished name, a nation's dishonour, and the curse of unborn infants, even now ring through my soul."

The minister had watched beside many impenitent sinners, many rebels, whose hands were stained with blood, but never had he been called to such a death-bed. With a

Suddenly the man arose. mighty energy he paced that creaking floor. If the storm was without, so was it within in the most terrific form. Those white, bony fingers laid hold of the valise, which stood by the bedside, and drew from thence a faded military coat lined with silver, and an old parchment, in a piece of damp cloth, that looked like the wreck of a ‍battle-flag. "Look," said the stranger," this coat is spotted with blood," bygone days seemed to rise before him, this coat covered me when I heard of the battle of Lexington, when I planted the flag of triumph on Ticonderoga; that bullet hole was driven through at the siege of Quebec-and now look at me! I-am-let me whisper softly in your ear-ha! they will hear " One burning word was said-only one. "Now help me," continued he, "to put on this coat, for I have no wife, no child to wipe the cold sweat from my brow. I must die

alone; let me die as on the battle-field, without a fear."

And while he sat arrayed in that tarnished coat, the preacher spoke to him comforting words of faith in Christ, of hope for dying penitents, of mercy pleading with justice, of that faith which lifts off the frown, and shows us a compassionate Redeemer.

"Faith!" again re-echoed the dying man, "faith!"-the death chill was on his frame,-death-light, too, was in his eye. "List! Is there not George Washington over the blue waters, relating pleasant stories of his sieges? Is there not George of England wailing over lost colonies ? And here am I,-I -the first that struck the note of freedom, the first that gave the blow to that king,-here am I, dying like a dog, howling over treachery, lost in pangs of remorse."

The preacher stepped back awe-struck. Who was before him? Again the heart throbbed, the death-watch was heard in the wall, the death-rattle seemed hardly suppressed in the throat.

Silence along the lines there!" murmured the dying stranger; "not a whisper; not one, for your lives are at stake. Montgomery, we will meet in the centre of the town. We will have victory or death! There are steep rocks,-silence, every man, as we move up the heights. Boys, come on, on! Hoist the flag of freedom! What care we for darkness and storm? Hurra! Now, now, one blow more and Quebec is gone, -it is ours!"

A ghastly look is there. The pale cheek, the glassy eye, the heaving bosom, the wild stare, the death-rattle, the tottering step, -and lo! he has fallen on the floor!

Who is this strange man dying in a garret ?-this mark of nobility crushed like a moth ? this wretched maniac, still clinging to his faded flag and his rusty uniform?

Whence come these fires of remorse? —this faint hope of heaven?—this more -than fear of hell? Where the parchment-where the flag?

Let us unroll the flag. It is a blue banner, with only thirteen stars upon it. But what of the parchment? It is a

colonel's commission in the continental army, addressed to Benedict Arnold.

Unhonoured and unwept, there lay the traitor! His corpse was in a rude house; he was unknown and unpitied, save by strangers. Yet that right arm had struck many a blow for freedom; but for one act of base perfidy, he has fallen for ever. Quenched is the light of his former glory; remorse hangs like a thunder-bolt over his soul, and his last agonies are those of a disgraced man, who might have been a successful hero.

Now, in dimly-lighted rooms, when children beg of aged grandsires to tell them tales of the revolution, Arnold, the traitor, is foremost in their thoughts; and then the dreadful effects of treason are narrated. We are told that he left the great metropolis, that he engaged in commerce, that his warehouses were in Nova Scotia, that his ships were in many ports; but in one night his stately warehouses were laid in ashes-the owner was suspected as the incendiary. The entire population of the British provinces assembled in a mass, and in sight of his wife they hung an effigy, whereon was inscribed, "Arnold, the traitor!" When he stood beside kings, when in the house of lords, all faces were turned, and all fingers raised, one venerable lord arose, and declared that he could not speak to his sovereign in the presence of a traitor.

"One day," says an historian, from whom we have gathered the leading fact of this history," in a shadowy room sat a mother and her two daughters, all attired in the weeds of mourning, grouped in a sad circle, gazing upon a picture shrouded in crape. A visitor now advanced; the mother took his card from the hands of the servant, and her daughters heard his name. 'Go,' said that mother, rising with a flushed face, while a daughter took each hand, 'go and tell that man that my threshold can never be crossed by the murderer of my son, Arnold the traitor !""

This was the individual who was said to have uttered, "I am the only man born in the new world that can raise his hand to God and say, I have not one friend-not one in all America!"

AND CHINA IMITATED.

RECOLLECTIONS.

Do you remember all the sunny places Where, in bright days, long past, we played together?

Do you remember all the old home faces
That gathered round the hearth in wintry wea-
ther?

Do you remember all the happy meetings,
In summer evenings, round the open door-
Kind looks, kind hearts, kind words, and tender
greetings,

And clasping hands, whose pulses beat no more?
Do you remember them?

Do you remember all the merry laughter?
The voices round the swing in our old garden;
The dog that, when we ran, still followed after;
The teasing frolic, sure of speedy pardon?
We were but children then, young, happy crea-
tures,

And hardly knew how much we had to lose;
But now the dreamlike memory of those features
Comes back, and bids my darkened spirit muse.
Do you remember them?

Do you remember when we first departed
From all the old companions who were round us,
How very soon again we grew light-hearted,
And talked with smiles of all the links which
bound us?

And after, when our footsteps were returning
With unfelt weariness o'er hill and plain,
How our young hearts kept boiling up and
burning,

To think how soon we'd be at home again?
Do you remember this?

Do you remember how the dreams of glory
Kept fading from us like a fairy treasure;
How we thought less of being famed in story,
And more of those to whom our fame gave plea-

sure?

Old happy thoughts, which till that hour were sleeping,

And made us yearn for those we left behind?
Do you remember this?

Do you remember, when no sound woke gladly, But desolate echoes through our home were ringing,

How for awhile we talked-then paused full sadly
Because our voices bitter thoughts were bringing?
Ah me! those days-those days! my friend, my
brother,

Sit down and let us talk of all our woe,
For we have nothing left but one another;
Yet where they went, old playmate we shall go→→→
Let us remember this.
MRS. NORTON.

No wonder that this art has taken so firm a hold on public favour, for few things that can be classed among fancy work admit of so much variety, or require more ingenuity and taste to bring them to perfection; and yet the whole process, from the earliest stage to the last finishing touch, is of the most simple description; so that even a very young girl may hope to make most elegant and beautiful articles, by attending to a few simple rules.

Some of our lady friends may be curious to know how and where this new art originated. We do not know the name of the inventor, but probably the idea was taken from another work, somewhat similar, although less beautiful than Potichimanie. We allude to placing painted flowers, or patterns of chintz, cut out, and gummed down, on large earthenware painted jars, to imitate stone china, and when completed, glazed over so that the imitation, if well executed, might easily pass current as the original Eastern stone china. Large vases well adapted to this purpose, have been manufactured at Tours, the lovely capital of the garden of France, la Touraine. And as it is in that town that Potichimanie was invented, we conclude the circumstance we allude to, gave rise to the idea of placing drawings, engravings, &c. inside glass vases, and then colouring, varnishing, and rendering the whole as like the highly finished works they are designed to imitate as possible.

Those who are already engaged in this fascinating employment, will well understand how social and amusing it may become if carried on amongst a circle of intimate friends, and will not be surprised to hear, that old and young are deep in its mysteries, in every small soiree given at Tours (and indeed in Paris and throughout France), and that as on those occasions gentlemen always enliven the circle, they assist the fair manufacturer with their advice and aid, in forming and selecting designs; although we doubt their ability în the niceties of cutting out, and we conclude the varnish and paint brush may sometimes be doomed to conglomerate matters in their hands!

We have given a copy of a coloured design, that be of use to those who have already tried, or wish lately reached us from Paris, hoping that it may to engage in this work. All the figures on the page with the greatest care and nicety, must be laid on a larger sheet of white paper, and the mode of disposing of them decided upon. There are figures enough for two tolerably large glass vases, suitable as ornaments for a good sized console or mantel-piece.

The model we have given our artist to copy, is very beautifully coloured and gilt; and we much regret that we cannot present it in this attractive dress to the fair readers of "THE FAMILY FRIEND," but we will do our best to describe how they can do this for themselves, if they do not wish to go to the expense of purchasing sheets of the kind at the Potichimanie warerooms, and purpose trying their skill at colouring engravings or sketches of their own.

The first step would be to get all the implements requisite together on a common table, as disorderly arrangements, or frequent leaving off,

The materials are not very numerous or expensive; they consist of

Potiche en verre, vases, of any shape or pattern, provided it be as plain as possible; but those large enough at the neck to admit of the insertion of the hand, are decidedly the best.

Flower-pot covers, plates, jugs, wine-coolers, plates, panes of glass for hall or study windows, square hall lamps, can all be done in this way.

We have given a list of most of the necessaries for this work in a previous number; but we will again repeat them here. They can be procured at several places, but we can recommend those sold by Marion, of Regent-street; and they will be able to supply any lady in the country with all in the subjoined list, together with printed directions, should these be found not sufficiently explicit.

ARTICLES NECESSARY FOR POTICHIMANIE.1. Some sheets of Coloured Prints, representing Birds, Flowers, Insects, Chinese Figures, Ornaments, &c. 2. Glass Vases as are described above, &c. &c., according to the objects to be decorated. 3. Several Hog-hair Round and Flat and Camelhair Brushes of various sizes. 4. A Bottle of Liquid Gum. 5. A Bottle of Essence of Lavender. 6. A Bottle of Varnish, to dilute the Colours occasionally, when they become too thick. 7. Several Bottles of ready-prepared Colours for Grounds; such as Bluish White, Greenish White, or any other shade. 8. A Packet of Gold Powder. 9. A Pair or two of fine Scissors.

INSTRUCTIONS IN THE ART OF POTICHIMANIE. 1. The first point is to cut out the designs with all possible exactitude, taking care to remove all the white portion of the paper. For this purpose, small scissors must be used, such as are employed in cutting out embroidery. The designs must be selected according to the style and shape of the vase to be decorated.

2. When a sufficient number of designs have been cut out, the best arrangement for the pattern intended must be tried on a sheet of white paper. Taste and judgment will be required in blending the colours, according to the form and style of the vase, whether Sèvres or Chinese porcelain, Japanese and Etruscan vases, &c. &c. 3. The designs cut out are to have a coat of gum spread on the coloured side with a brush, and must then be immediately applied to the inside of the vase, in the manner previously arranged on the paper; taking care to press them down well, either with the finger or piece of fine linen, so that no bubbles of air may remain between the vase and the paper. A dry brush may occasionally be used for the purpose, in those parts of the vase which the fingers cannot reach, and for delicate ornaments, requiring particular care, such as the antennæ of butterflies and other insects, small flowers, &c. When the designs are thus secured, one may already judge of the effect.

4. When the vase is perfectly dry, a very fine brush must he used to cover with varnish the designs cut out and gummed upon the vase, carefully avoiding to touch only the glass. When it is perfectly dry the glass must be carefully cleaned with a piece of fine linen, damped, in order to take off any accidental spots of gum or varnish. If

nished before they are gummed; this is to prevent the oil-colour from sinking into the paper; the designs, therefore, must be varnished on the back, and, when dry, gummed on the coloured side, and then placed on the vase.

5. When the vase is well cleaned, the shade must be selected that is thought most appropriate for its style. The old Sevres has generally a bluish tint; Chinese porcelain a greenish, and Etruscan nankeen, &c. A sufficient quantity of the colour selected must then be poured into the vase, turning it continually in the same direction until the colour is equally spread over every part; the remainder must then be poured out. If preferred, the paint may be applied with a large and very fine brush, beginning at the lower part of the vase. It is extremely important that the designs should adhere perfectly, otherwise the paint will penetrate itself between them and the glass. If it is desired to add a gold band at the mouth, a little gold powder must be mixed with some varnish, and a few drops of the essence of lavender, and then applied with a fine brush. When the inside is perfectly dry, one or two coats of varnish must be laid on with a brush, which renders the vase capable of holding water. As, however, the water might at length injure the paint, it is preferable to line it with zinc."

Let the fair artist fix upon the style of vase, or other object she wishes to imitate, and get a real one of the same description, if possible, and place it before her. If Chinese, like the engraving we have given, it will be advisable to paint the figures in the brightest colours possible; and to those who understand drawing, this will be an amusing occupation.

Of course, the more grotesque the Chinese design is, the better; although we do not mean by that to indulge in caricature.

Very pretty things can be made in the Etruscan and Assyrian style, by cutting out figures dressed in black paper, and imitating those wellknown designs as closely as possible. We need scarcely add, that the form of the glass vase, &c., used for them should also be in accordance with the model from the antique. Very beautiful tables, cabinets, &c., could be produced in this manner, as transparency is not required: a hint to those who have taste in these matters is enough; but, perhaps, we will furnish some patterns later.

Painted glass windows may be executed in the same manner as the vase, with the exception that large sheets of plate-glass should be used, and seemingly divided with narrow strips of coarse brown packing paper, so as to resemble lead mouldings.

MASCULINENESS AND EFFEMINACY.-Men ought to be manly; women ought to be womanly or feminine. They are sometimes masculine, which men cannot be; but only men can be effeminate: for masculineness and effeminacy imply the palpable predominance in one sex, of that which is the ресиliar characteristic of the other.-Guesses at Truth.