BRUGES. BRUGES-BENARES-FIFTY-NINE. The city, of which the preceding engraving furnishes a particular view, is the capital of West Flanders, and is situated at a distance of about six miles from the sea. It is the centre of an extensive canal commerce. The principal canals are those which lead to Sluys and Ostend, on the latter of which vessels of three hundred tons come up to Bruges. In the fourteenth century, it was one of the chief commercial places in Europe, and a very important member of the Hanseatic Confederacy, or League. It began to decline towards the end of the fifteenth century, but is still enabled to carry on a considerable trade with the north of Europe. Lace and linen are the main articles manufactured at Bruges. The Exchange is believed to have been one of the earliest establishments of the kind in Europe; and though very ancient, is spoken of by modern travellers, as still a fine building. The majestic church of Notre Dame, with its elevated spire, is one of the architectural wonders of the place. Within the walls of this sacred edifice, are the magnificent tombs of Charles the Bold, and of his daughter, the illustrious Mary of Burgundy. These tombs were constructed in the year 1550. The order of the Golden Fleece was founded here, in 1430, by Philip the Good. Here, also, Van Eyk, or John of Bruges, the supposed inventor of painting in oil, was born. Bruges has a chamber of commerce, a large insurance company, a navigation school and dock yard; likewise an academy of painting, sculpture, and architecture; a national literary society, and many valuable specimens of architecture and sculpture. The town exports much grain, and immense quantities are shipped, when the English ports are open. BENARES. Desirous to present the readers of the Casket with as much variety as possible, in pictorial embellishments, we have selected, from a rare source, the preceding beautiful specimen of the scenery of India. With this vast country, in the minds of great numbers of the American people, more especially the religious community, are associated a thousand circumstances and considerations of interest. The idolatrous worship in which the inhabitants so generally indulge; the singular loveliness in which nature is there invested; the thoughts connected with her storied hills and rivers-all combine to render a scene from India worthy of particular regard. 457 cities of India. It is there that the Brahminic influence exerts unbounded sway; while its opulence and trade entitle it to rank among the principal cities of the world. It is situated on the left bank of the Ganges, here a noble stream, and its extent along the bank of that river is full five miles; its breadth inland being in proportion. Built upon a rising ground, sloping gradually upward from the water's brink, its buildings appear very lofty when seen from the boats in passing it. Some of the ghauts are very fine edifices; one especially has six stories. Indeed the whole face of the river, towards the city, is one continued line of these ghauts, which, exclusive of the ornament they are to Benares, are highly commodious and useful in the facility for bathing which they present to its vast population; and the immense crowd of all sexes, in their varied and graceful costumes, who constantly frequent these public resorts, is truly wonderful. Towards the east end of this city, and near to the Ganges, the Jameh Musjid, or chief Mohammedan temple, rises in great grandeur. It was built by the Emperor Aurungzebe, on the ruins of an ancient and highly venerated Hindoo pagoda, which the fanaticism of this bigoted Mussulman destroyed. This building is seen on the right of the view here given, with its two lofty minarets, and three noble domes of pure white marble. One of the smaller Hindoo pagodas may be observed very much out of perpendicular: this is occasioned by the foundation being undermined by the river, whose freaks and depredations have been often described. ORIGINAL. REFLECTIONS OF FIFTY-NINE. To court the earth, from whence they rose, Benares, of which the annexed is a careful and authentic view, is surrounded by scenes of the most romantic description. Of all the cities of Hindostan, moreover, Benares is held the most sacred by the Hindoos: here their principal pagodas or temples are situated, the most revered and celebrated Brahmins reside; here is the centre and seat of Hindoo learning; and here is the celebrated Observatory which is said to have I live in a constant endeavour to fence against been erected by command of the Emperor the infirmities of ill health, and other evils of life, Acber, and is well known from the description by mirth; being firmly persuaded, that every of Sir Robert Barker, in the Philosophical Trans- time a man smiles-but much more so when he actions. laughs-it adds something to this fragment of life. Benares is likewise one of the most ancient-Sterne. Still there was nothing of indifference in their manner; nothing, in short, which any liberalminded devotee might not have excused in the bearing of two heretics, unaccustomed to Roman Catholic rites, and acting from impulses of inexperience and youth. For they were both young, under five-and-twenty; and they had that reckless and independent air which marks the citizens of a free country. They were, in fact, Americans, who, with a full fund of health, money, and ardor for variety, had just arrived in Europe, and were starting on their journey in quest of knowledge and adventures. nun was answered by an imploring glance from her quick raised eyes, and a momentary, but intelligible motion with her finger, that he should remain. vitation, he found means to rid himself of his "Not sufficiently to express your influence on This was answered by her wonted smile"Good Heaven, is it satisfaction or triumph?" thought the American. "If you can see in me any thing to interest you," continued she, "are you inclined to do me a favour?" "Am I" replied he, with energy-" try me "It is no trifle," said she, solemnly. "Any thing is trifling that can enable me to serve you; for any thing short of death command me!" They had landed a day or two before at Ostend, from London, and this was their first visit to a Roman Catholic church in a Roman Cath-put me to the proof!" olic country. One of the strangers, who was a quaker, viewed the religious ceremonies without any other emotion than that of a painter or novelist, as if scanning the groups for the effect which they would produce portrayed on the canvass, or in description; while the other, of a more sanguine temperament, felt a deeper moral interest in the scene. He was, however, after a short time, roused" to a more minute and personal train of thought, by observing, that one of the nuns, who had most pretensions to beauty, fixed her looks upon him, with an uncommon intenseness, and in a manner so remarkable, as to cause him at length considerable embarrassment. There was something in the expression of her countenance, and in the determined scrutiny of her gaze, that made him almost shudder. She was handsome, certainly. Her features were regular and marked; but she was pale to sallowness, and her dark eyes had a restlessness of motion, that seemed caused by an unquiet mind. He then felt his cheeks glow, and he gave to his looks the tenderest expression of which they were capable. He saw an answering flush rise on the pallid brow of the nun; and a smile, that thrilled through him, but not with unmoved delight, played for an instant on her colourless lips. Her eyes then sank down, and her face resumed its calm and sculptured look. The service was at length concluded; the priests had retired from the deserted altar, and one by one the congregation left the church. Aroused by his less excitable friend, the enamored young gentleman also arose to retire. They were on the point of quitting their places and retiring from the almost deserted church; the friend of the young lover, for so we must call him, had turned round and made a few steps in the direction of the door, and the lover himself was about to follow, when his parting look at the "And if death did cross your path in the adventure?" exclaimed she, with a full expression of voice, and a piercing solemnity of look. "By Heavens! I'd even spurn that," cried he, you have exalted me to a pitch of excitement, I know not how or wherefore." "I am satisfied with you," resumed she-"I believe you to be a man of honor, and that your fine person and striking face cannot be allied to an ignoble soul; I feel myself safe in your hands. You perceive that the rules of my order are not the strictest! but their discovered infringement is ruin; and I am now infringing them. I can speak to you no more at present-I have run a fearful risk. But meet me outside that little portal to night at nine. I will admit you punctually as the clock strikes. You must not speak: but trust to me, follow me, and count on my gratitude." At the hour of nine, the young American, followed by his anxious friend, rushes to the convent. The lover gains admittance, and shortly after is seen returning, bearing out a figure wrapped in his cloak, which, from its form and dimensions, is judged to be a human being. The alarm and anxiety of the friend, heightened by this occurrence, is aroused, and he follows at a distance and in silence. After a little time, in which they traversed several by-streets, they reached one of those canals with which the town abounded, and the lover unhesitatingly descended one of the flights of steps, which facilitate the landing of goods from the barges, and the embarkation of persons employed. Heavens!" exclaimed the watchful friend to himself, "can he be wild enough to bear her off RANDOLPH-NEAPOLITAN BRIGAND. at night in some open boat, God knows where! Where or how will this adventure end?" He placed himself close to the quay wall and looked over the parapet. He saw his friend on the steps; there was no boat of any kind stationed near or in sight; yet the lover continued to descend! "What can this mean? what frantic feat can be destined to conclude this affair?" muttered the careful guardian, as he watched with intense interest; and as he watched, he observed the object of his care to disencumber himself of his burden; a figure in black emerged from beneath the cloak, and a heavy plunge in the stagnant water was the signal of its disappearance. The perpetrator of this appalling deed immediately ascended the steps. The shocked witness felt the blood curdling through his veins. His eyes seemed doubly fixed on his retreating friend and on the rippled surface of the water where the body sank. The safety of his friend kept him mute; for to call for assistance was to reveal the murderer! Leaving the place, he quickly gained upon his companion, who, to his astonishment, took the direct road to the hotel. They arrived there at the same moment, and they recognized each other without exchanging a word. A simultaneous pressure of the hand was their only salutation; and the friend shuddered to feel, that the one he clasped, was cold and clammy. The door opened to their summons, and they mounted together to their chamber. The explanation given by the young American to his friend, is full of that source of interest which lovers of the Ratcliff school of romances delight in-namely, the horrible. The nun, by whose appearance he had been captivated, had received some untold injury or slight from a young priest; and assassinated him in her cell. It was for the purpose of conveying away the murdered body, that she invited the traveller to this fearful interview. Maddened by her beauty and the draught of wine which she induced him to swallow, he consented to become the agent of her dark purpose. But to avoid the possibility of her crime being detected, she had mixed poison in the cup, and the unfortunate stranger, at once her agent and her victim, scarcely finishes his narration, before the drug takes effect, and he expires in great torture. His fellow traveller lays before the officers of the police a statement of the whole transaction, but a bigoted respect for the religious association, stifles the decrees of justice, and induces them, without making any investigation, to suffer the mysterious and dreadful circumstance to pass into oblivion.-The Critic. THE NEAPOLITAN BRIGAND. 459 AN ANECDOTE OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. The Governor of a city in Italy, in the kingdom of Naples, wishing to repress the depredations of a nucountry, published a decree, in which he promised par merous band of robbers, who ravaged the surrounding. don and a sum of money to every brigand who should deliver up to him one of his comrades, living or dead. This decree reached the ears of the brigands, who were collected together in their retreat in the mountains. They had just captured a rich booty, and were dividing the spoil, which they owed to their own audacity, and above all to the courage of their young and intrepid leader. He, seated apart from the rest, silent and dejected, partook not of the general satisfaction. Slightly wounded in the combat which had ta ken place with the travellers, who had dearly sold their lives and fortunes, he was holding out his arm to a pretty young girl, who bound up the wounds. Near him laid the back mask, which he had just taken off, and which served him as a disguise in these perilous enterprises. Upon hearing the decree read, the brigands started up, and grasped their weapons in indignation at the governor who could believe them capable of purchas ing their liberty and a few pieces of gold, at the price of treason and infamy. The lieutenant, especially, could not overcome his boiling fury; for although he had grown grey in crime, he possessed that species of honour which revolts at the idea of a meanness, and he swore he would punish the governor for having treated them so contemptuously. The captain alone expressed neither indignation nor anger; he was heard to murmur these words: "The governor does his duty. Do we not merit the contempt of mankind, as well as their hatred? Are not they worthy of every species of affront, every kind of punishment, who daily outrage every law, human and divine?" Guisardi (such was the lieutenant's name) entertained a violent hatred towards his captain: for this young man had disputed the command with him, which was Deeds skilfully achieved, calmness, and daring courage, due to his long services, and had proved successful. united with a mental superiority, which imposed upon these ferocious but simple minded men, had quickly obtained for Paola the title of their captain, and with the title the confidence and blind obedience of the whole troop. This enmity towards the young commander, operated very powerfully in the unregulated nund of Guisardi, and was augmented by jealousy, for he had become enamoured of Floretta, the young girl whom we represented dressing the arm of the young chief. Flo ing the troop, and ever since she had constantly shared reita had accompanied this young man upon his joinwith the devotion of love, the fatigues and dangers of his new condition, repulsing the addresses of Guisardi with just abhorrence. He was, however, in possession of an important secret. The brigands had entered their mountain cave in order to take some necessary repose, and once more count over their treasure ere they gave themselves up to sleep. The captain remained alone, but soon retirJOHN RANDOLPH'S MOTHER.-The late John Ran-ed to take his customary ramble among the recesses of dolph, some years since, addressed himself to an inti- the mountains. Guisardi followed his steps at a dis mate friend in terms something like the following:- tance, when he suddenly took a winding road, and "I used to be called a Frenchman, because I took the placing himself at the turn of a defile, awaited the arFrench side in politics; and though this was unjust, rival of Paola. As soon as he approached, Guisardi, yet the truth is, I should have been a French atheist, with a stroke of his poignard, extended him dead at if it had not been for one recollection, and that was his feet; he then severed the head from the body, and the memory of the time when my departed mother placing it in an iron casket, immediately set off to the used to take my little hands in hers, and caused me, town where the governor resided. on my knees, to say, 'Our Father which art in hea ven.' Upon Guisardi's arrival at the governor's palace, every thing wore a joyous aspect; it was a day of fes ivity, for they were celebrating the marriage of one of the governor's daughters. Before admitting him, the guards demanded his name and business; he made himself known, pronouncing a name which was the terror of the whole country, adding that, taking advantage of the amnesty, he had brought the head of This chiet, the famous Paola, a name no less famous than his own. He was introduced into the saloon where the governor was seated, surrounded by his courtiers and family. The governor's daughters, horrified, would have retired from the apartment, had not eir father prevented them. This man, said he, is guilty, but repentant, and has avenged society with his own hand. Remain, my children, and endeavour to overcome this weakness. Give, added he to the attendants, a seat to our new guest, and some refreshments. Lieutenant Guisardi, repose yourself awhile: here is wine; and when I rise from table, we will open your casket, for I am curious to behold the head of this famous captain who has caused us so much alarm, and in exchange for this present, you will reseive your liberty and the promised reward. The feast continued amid songs and rejoicing, when at length the governor rising from table, and approachng the brigand, silently seated near his casket; he opens it. What does he behold? The head of his own son, of that son whose wild youth and ungovernable passions had long afflicted his family, and who, the previous year, had disappeared from the paternal home, without leaving any traces of his flight, at the moment of contracting a brilliant alliance, which would have fulfilled, not his own wishes, but the hopes and ambition of his father. He affected a sort of dexterity, or slight of hand, in his mode of operating; and would resort to various sly tricks to deceive the eyes of the beholders. He wished to conceal from all others the precise moment when the bone returned to its place, as well as the peculiar manner of effecting it. Of his marvellous dexterity, in this respect, several anecdotes are still current in the circle of his practice. But Doctor Pulltoggle did not rely altogether upon the dexterous motion of the hand, for his success and reputation in the art of bone-setting. He had invented a kind of ointment, still famous in that region, by the name of Toggle Grease-an appellation doubtless derived from his own cognomen, the first syllable having, in process of time, been lopped off for the sake of ease in pronunciation. With this grease he used to anoint the injured part for some minutes, as a preliminary step; and it is averred that, by the extraordinary powers of this ointment, the displaced bones could well nigh be induced, of their own motion, to return to their places. Such was the reputation, and such the effects, of the Toggle Grease. But what it was made of nobody knew, except the inventor. There were indeed various conjectures about it; and certain wise persons, were ready to swear positively to one or more of the ingre dients. "It is," said one, " made of devil's bit, and a num ber of other strong arbs, cooked in rattlesnake's ile." "That's all you know about it," said another; the principal ingrediences, to my certain knowledge, is the marrow got out of the bones of a human man, and that is the reason it has such an effect in The unfortunate father subdued his grief, and pre-making people's bones come in their places." sented the robber the promised reward, "Keep your gold," said the man haughtily, "I wished to punish you for believing us capable of such infamous treache7. The evil you wished to cause us, falls upon your own head. I am revenged! I am free! Adieu!" NATURAL BONE-SETTER. Doctor Pulltoggle was one of those rare geniuses, known as the seventh son of a seventh son. He was born with the capacity of setting bones; or, as the people expressed it, was a nateral bone-setter. He had no knowledge from books or from instruction; and he required none. What is bred in the bone, says the old saw, stays long in the flesh; and Doctor Pulltoggle could no more help being a bone-setter, than the cat in the fable, who was changed into a lady, could help running after the mouse. Why the mere circumstance of his being the seventh son of a seventh son, should convey this extraordinary gift, nobody undertook to explain. It was a thing utterly beyond comprehension. It was a mystery, which nobody thought of looking into; but which was valued the more for being a mystery. "It is very strange," said the people, "what a faculty of setting bones this Doctor Pulltoggle has! He never looked in a surgery book in his life, but took it all up of his own head; and yet he's the slickest hand to set a bone in all New England. Why he makes no more of slipping in a dislocated joint, than a common doctor would of slipping a guinea into his pocket." "You're right," said a third, "about its being the marrow of a human critter; but it isn't every human critter whose marrow will have the same effect. It must be a man that was born on the 29th day of February, just between the old and new of the moon, that never sucked a human woman, that never tasted a drop of water in his life, and at last was killed with lightning." "And that aint all," said another, "the marrow must be tried out in a goold kittle; and when the other ingrediences are put in, they must all be stirred together with a bone that come out of a catamount's leg." Now all that," said a fifth," is a mere fudge, and just an old woman's notion. I have good reason to know it's just no such thing. There aint a bit of human marrow, of any sort or kind, in the Toggle Grease. The foundation is the fat of a Guinea nigger, roasted alive. To this is added a little dragon's blood, a little ile of spikes, a little goose-grease, to gether with about twenty kinds of arbs and roots, all gathered in the dark of the moon, and simmered over a slow fire till they come to the inconsistence of ointment. I don't know exactly what the arbs may be; but I'm sartin about the nigger's fat, and the dragon's blood-or it may be devil's blood, which I spose is all one and the same thing-and also about the goosegrease and the ile of spikes, and all them things." Such were some of the various ideas entertained of the composition of the Toggle Grease; and indeed the inventor himself had done much to puzzle, mislead, and divide public opinion on this abstruse subject, by throwing out certain half expressed and mys terious hints, sometimes of one kind, and sometimes another, according to the nature of his auditors. But the composition of the Toggle Grease remained a secret till the day of his death; and, though transmitted to one of his descendants, in whose hands it now remains, still continues a secret to all the rest of the With this reputation, Doctor Pulltoggle had a good deal of practice. He was particularly famous for the eure of old cases, which were reputed to have baffled the skill of the regular surgeons. This was especially the case in regard to long-standing injuries of the joints, which, whatever their nature might be, he generally contrived to metamorphose into luxations. But, whether the cases were cronic or recent, he knew how to make the most of them; and, by chang-world. ing sprains into dislocations, to gain both money and reputation by reducing them. When Doctor Pulltoggle could not, with propriety and safety, make dislocations of sprains, he cured |