OUN Sl Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022147676 Cornell University Library PS 2523.P9Z7 1855 The life and beauties of Fanny Fern 3 1924 022 147 676 DATE DUE jmm w mmmm^ ^ ^% PRINTED IN U.S.A. THE LIFE AND BEAUTIES FANNY FEEN. NOTHING EXTENITATE, NOR BET DOWN AITGHT IN MALICE. NEW YOEK: H. LONG AND BROTHER. 121 NASSAU-STREET. 1855. « 1^ 8e'':224: ENTEaED Bjocording to Act of Oongcess, in the year One Thjousand Eight Hnndrod and Fifty-five, by H. LONG & BROTHER, in the CIerk»a Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern Diii- triet of New York. * Speak of me as I am ; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice." TATVS, RCSSELL & Co., PRINTERe, 26 Beekman and 18 Spruce Street. PEEF ACE. In preparing for the press " The Life and Beauties OF Fanny Eken," we have given to the reader a state- ment of the most prominent incidents in her eventful career, which is authenticated, not only by the testi- mony of her nearest relatives, but bj' communications from her own lips. The lives of distinguished men or women have always been accounted public property, and, in narrating that of Fanny Fern, we have confined ourselves to simple facts, leaving the fancy-pictures to be filled up by others. In giving selections from her " Beauties," we present the reader with a bouquet of " Ferns," all freshly gathered. In so doing, we have infringed on no one's copy-right ; the sketches having been copied, in every instance, from the papers to which they were originally IV PREFACE. contributed. A large proportion of them, have never before appeared within the covers of a book. These latter are the very articles upon which Panny made her reputation. We have given quotations which do justice to every variety of her versatile style. One page flashes with the keen edge of satire, another brims over with mirth, and a third is tearfiil with pathos. We have shown Fanny at home, on the street, and in church, and have thus furnished a key which will unlock many of the mysteries of "Ruth HaU," and " Fern Leaves." CONTENTS. I. Genius in Pantalettes „. 11 II. Fanny at School 13 III. The New Name 18 IV. The Husband's Death 20 V. The Second Mahrlage 27 VI. Fanny Fern at Home 31 VII. Early Literary Efforts 37 VIII. Fanny and the True Flag 39 IX. Fanny Fern in Church 48 X. Fanny Fern in Broadway 52 XI. Fanny at the Tremont House j. 55 XII. A Key to "Ruth Hall." 60 Vi CONTENTS. XIII. « ' A Word about N. P. Willis 69 XIV..,- Ideas about Babies '2 XV. Praise from a Woman 79 XVI. The Remarkable History of Jemmy Jessamy 81 XVII. Jemmy Jessamy's Defence 85 XVIII. The Governess 88 XIX. All about Satan 103 XX. Well Known Characters 106 XXI. Horace Mann's "Opinion." Ill XXII. What Fanny Thinks of Hot Weather 113 XXIII. Family Jars 114 XXIV. Two in Heaven 119 XXV. The Private History or Didymus Daisy, Esq 121 XXVI. The Wedding Dress 125 XXVII. Is it Best to Use Envelopes? ^ ,. 132 CONTENTS. vn XXVIII. Feminine Wisdom 137 XXIX. Always Speak the Truth 139 XXX. Moses Miltiades MitTON 142 XXXI. Tom versus Fan ; or, a Little Talk about Little Things 145 XXXII. A Letter To the True Flag 152 XXXIII. The Orphan 154 XXXIV. An Answer to Mrs. Crowe 160 XXXV-. Mrs. Farrington on Matrimony 162 XXXVI. A Whisper to Romantic Young Ladies 164 XXXVII. A Woman with a Soul 168 XXXVIII. Clerical Courting .: 170 XXXIX. What Fowler Says 175 XL. The Other Side 179 XLI. The Good-Natured Bachelor 186 viii CONTENTS. XLII. Catching the Dear -- ^^^ XLIII. Helen, the Village Rose-Bud — 190 XLIV. Single Blessedness - 200 XLV. That Mrs. Jones: 201 XLVI. Mrs. Jupiter's Soliloquy 204 XLVII. The Unfaithful Lover 206 XLVIII. Petticoat Parliament 213 XLIX. Fanny Fern on Widowers 215 L. An Hour with Fanny's Father 217 LI. John Bull's Opinion of "Ruth Hall." 222 LII. Orthodox Testimony 225 LIII. Another Fern » 227 LIV. The Best of Men have their Failings 229 LV. The Mistake of a Life-time 231 LVI. A Wife's Devotion 238 CONTENTS. IX LVII. Mrs. Zebedee Smith's Philosophy 243 LVIII. Inteeesting to Bashful Men 246 LIX. The Angel Child 249 LX. Uncle Ben's Attack of Speing-Fever, 253 LXI. Connubial Adveetisement 258 LXII. What Fanny Thinks about Sewing-Machines 260 LXIII. The Time to Choose 263 LXIV. Our Nelly 265 LXV- I Can't 209 LXVI. Mrs. Smith's Reverie.. i 271 LXVII. A Night-watch with a Dead Infant 273 LXVIII. A Little Good Advice 275 LXIX. The Other One.. 277 LXX. A Pen and Ink Sketch 280 LXXI. Fanny's "Rules for Ladies." '283 1* X CONTENTS. LXXII. The Little Pauper 286 LXXIII. What Fanny Thinks about Friendship 289 LXXIV.^ Truth Stranger than Fiction -.-. — 292 L X X V . Don't Disturb Him 299 LXXVI. A Model Husband 301 LXXVII. What to bo when you are Angry... 303 LXXVIII. The Eakly Blight 305 LXXIX. There's Eoom Enough for All 309 LXXX. The Cross and the Crown... 312 LXXXI. Tom Fay's Soliloquy , 314 LXXXII. A Chapter on Clergymen 318 LXXXIII. Fanny Fern on Husbands 321 LXXXIV. Fanny's Ideas or Money Matters 324 LXXXV. A Letter to a Self-exiled Friend in the Country 32? LIFE AND BEAUTIES or FANNY FEEN GEKIUS IN PANTALETTES. CAEAH PAYSON WILLIS, the subject of this ^sketch, was born in Portland, Maine, July 9th, 1811. Through the negligence, doubtless, of the clerk of the town, it is not recorded that the sun stood still on the eventful morning, but old house- wives tell a legend of the cocks' crowing with extraordinary shrillness in honor of this wonderful advent. She is the daughter of Mr. Nathaniel Willis, one of the most industrious and respect- able citizens of Boston, now a man well advanced in years. It is scarcely necessary to add that she is si|ter to Mr. N. P. Willis, the brilliant essayist and poet. Mr. Willis, senior, 12 LIFE AND BEAUTIES, ETC. clianic, and at the time of his marriage worked at the case as a journeyman printer. He after- wards published the Eastern Argus, in Portland. Meeting with reverses in that city, he removed to Boston, where he established, and for many years edited, the "Eecorder," the oldest religious paper in New-England. Mr. "Willis has met with a similar experience to that of most men in his calling. He never made a fortune at publishing. At the present time, although aged and infirm, he finds it necessary to devote his failing energies to the publication of the "Youth's Companion," Yet, notwith- Btanding his narrow means, Mr. Willis contrived — at how great a sacrifice only parents can guess, to give his sons and daughters that education which is a poor man's noblest legacy. II. FANNY AT SCHOOL. TN accordance witli the course he had wisely planned for his children, Sarah "Willis — the veritable " Fanny " — was favored with an early in- troduction into the seminary of Miss Catherine E. Beecher, in Hartford, Conn. At this well-con- ducted establishment — the most popular in the country, at that time — Miss Fanny received her first strong impressions of life and the world. We have never heard her spoken of as a very apt or studious pupil. Staid works of philosophy and learning were not much to her taste. But from the prohibited pages of romances and poems, eagerly devoured in secret, her craving genius derived an active stiiafilus. Already she had become a keen dissector of the human heart, and she found plenty of pleasant practice for the scalpel of her wit among 14 LIFE AND BEAUTIES OF the young ladies of the school. Here, too, the novel and startling experiences of boarding-school flirtation gave their warm coloring to her future life. Fanny possessed a large capacity for this description of knowledge, and her writings show a better memory for those more pleasant branches of female education, than for the dry rules of syn- tax and prosody. In fact, the best of her sketches are transcripts of her school-girl life — for Fanny writes well only when giving the concentrated vin- egar and spice of her own vivid experiences. A sketch of Fanny's, entitled " A Leaf from MY Experience," referring to her school-life, may, perhaps, form the best embodiment of the earlier portion of her school-history. " Miss Jemima Keturah Eix was at the head of a flourishing school for very young ladies and gen- tlemen. She originated in the blue state of Gon- necticut, where the hens, from principle, refrain from laying eggs on Sunday, and the yeast stops working for the same reason. She had very little opinion of her own sex, and none at all of the other. Her means were uncommonly limited, yet ' she was too much of a gentlewoman to k<^p school, had it not been for her strijng desire to reform the rising generation.' I^AKNY FERN. 15 " In person, she was tall and spare, with small, snapping black eyes, and thin, compressed lips, telling strongly of her vixenish propensities. She could repeat the Ten Commandments and Assem- bly's Catechism backwards^ without missing a word ; and was a firm believer in total depravity and the eternal destruction of little dead babies. " Shfe had the usual variety of temper and dispo- sition, generally found in a school, and a way of her own of getting along with them. She would catch a refractory pupil with one hand by the shoulder, and press the thumb with such force into the hollow of the arm, that the poor victim was ready to subscribe to any articles of faith or prac- tice she might see fit to draw up ; and who of us will soon forget that old brass thimble^^mounted on her skinny fotefinger,. as it came snapping against our foreheads? " Being considered an untamable witch at home, I had the ill luck to be sent to this little initiatory . purgatory. This was unfortunate, as Miss Eix and I looked at life through very different pairs of spectacles. The first great grief I can remember, was when I was about as tall as a rosebush, — nearly breaking my heart, because a little boy threw away one of my ringlets, that I cut off for his especial keeping. In fact, I may as well own it, I was born 16 LIFE AND BEAUTIES OF a coquette; and the lynx eyes of Miss Eix had already discoyered it. " She always made a chalk line on the floor be- tween the girls and boys, that neither were allowed to cross without a special permit. Being aware of this, I had been in the habit of making certain telegraphic communications with a little lover of mine, in jacket and trowsers, on the other side of chalk-dom. " Little dreaming°of the storm that was brewing, I sat watching her one morning, as she slowly drew from her pocket a long piece of cord, and tested its strength. Eaising her sharp cracked voice to its most crucifying pitch, she called, " ' Miss Minnie May and Mr. Harry Hall step out upon the floor.' Of course, we didn't do any- thing else, when, turning us back to back, she silently proceeded to tie our elbows together with the cord, remarking, with a satanic grin, as she sat down, that ' we seemed to be so fond of each other, it was a pity to keep- us apart.' "Now this was a very cutting thing to me, in more ways than one, as Harry's jacket sleeves pro- tected Ms arms, while my little fat elbows were getting redder every minute from the twitches he made to extricate himself; for, like some bigger boys, he was very willing to be Sifair-weatherloYQT FANNY FEKN. 17 but coifldn't face a storm. I've never forgiven him for it, (true to my woman nature,) and though I often meet him now, (he is a thriving physician with an extensive practice;) and he looks so roguishly from out those saucy black eyes, as much as to say, *■! wouldn't mind being tied to you now, Minnie,' I give him a perfect freezer of a look and ' pass by on the other side.' " I understand that MissEix has rested from her labors and gone to her reward. I wish no better satisfaction than that she may get it 1 " III. THE NEW NAME. TjiANNY'S career as a'young lady seems to have been very lively. She recalls many amusing reminiscences of early flirtations. Among others, she led away captive the heart of a certain Unita- rian clergyman, the son of a wealthy family. As she af&rms, however, "papa" concluded that he had learned the "Westminster Catechism to so little purpose as to be no safe partner for his orthodt)x daughter. But, like a large spare chamber, swept and garnished, her affections had plenty of room for a new occupant. There were breezy walks on the common, mys- terious whisperings over skeins of thread with handsome clerks, until at length the conquering hero came. Like a sun-flower in the beams of morning, her heart expanded at the warm suit of her favored lover. May 4th, 1837, at a period of well-matured womanhood, Sarah Willis became Sarah Bldredge; The fortunate husband of the yet undeveloped genius, was an only child — the son of the late Dr. FANISTY FEEN. 19 Eldredge, a liigUy esteemed physician, in the neighborhood of Boston. Her first child died at the age of three years, but two remaining daugh- ters, the fruit of this union, now reside with their mother in New York. One is about ten, and the other we should judge from her appearance to be some fifteen jekrs of age. Mr. Eldredge enjoyed a handsome income from his services as cashier of the Merchant's Bank, the largest institution of the kind in Boston. Now "we esteem the domestic virtues of economy and prudence ; but a penurious mode of life is not so readily pardoned as the "opposite extreme of lavish expenditure; and the devoted husband of so spirited a young wife may certainly be excused for "living" to the extent of his means. But, as Othello very properly observes, " Who can control his fate ? " Had the young banker been as wise as he was generous and indulgent, he would have looked forward through the long, bright vista of the present, to that proverbial " rainy day," liable at any time to befall. In. the prime of manhood, October 6th, 1846, he was cut off by a sharp, quick stroke from Death's remorseless hand ; and the wife and mother, awaking suddenly from her gay dreams, saw affliction and widowhood descend upon her like a pall. IV. THE husband's DEATH. rrHROUGHOUT tlie whole course of Fanny's writings we are presented witli frequent and most pleasing pictures of her own self. Not only does slie figure as the graceful heroine of " Euth Hall," but all her sketches have a connection more or less remote with the evefits of her own life. The following sketch, as we are assured, is a description of the death of her husband, though it contains one of the customary portraitures of Fanny herself. " The Young Wife's Affliction. — A delight- ful summer we passed, to be sure, at the Hotel, in the quiet village of S . A collection of prettier women, or more gentlemanly, agree- able men, were never thrown together by the FANNY FERN. 21 necessity of seeking country quarters in the dog- days. Fashion, by common consent, was laid upon the shelf, and comfort and smiling faces were the natural result. Husbands took the cars in the morning for the city, rejoicing in linen coats and pants, and loose neck-ties ; their wives, equally independent till their return, in flowing niuslin wrappers; not too dainty for the wear and tear of little climbing feet, fresh from the meadow or wildwood. " There were no separate ' cliques ' or ' sets ; ' nobody knew, or inquired, or cared, whether your great grandfather had his horse shod, or shoed horses for other people. The ladies were not afraid of smutting their fingers, or their reputa- tion, if they washed their own children's faces ; and didn't consider it necessary to fasten the door, and close the blinds, when they replaced a missing button on their husband's waistband, or mended a ragged frock. " Plenty of fruit, plenty of fresh, sweet air, plenty of children, and plenty of room for them to play in. A short nap in the afternoon, a little additional care in arranging tumbled ringlets, and in girding a fresh robe round the waist, and they were all seated in the cool of the evening on the long piazza, smiling, happy, and expectant, as the 33 LIFE AND BEAUTIES OF « car bell announced the return of their liege lords from the dusty, heated city. It was delightful to see their business faces brighten up, as each fair wife came forward and relieved them from the little parcels and newspapers they carried in their hands, and smiled a welcome,; sweet as the cool, fresh air that fanned their heated foreheads. A cold bath, a clean dickey, and they were present- able at the supper table, wherp merry jokes flew round, and city news was discussed between the fragrant cups of tea, and each man fell in love with his pretty wife over again, (or his neighbor's, if he liked !) " It was one harmonious, happy family ! Mrs. and her husband were the prime ministers of fun and frolic in the establishment. It was she who concocted all the games,; and charades, and riddles, that sent our merry shouts ringing far and wide, as we sat in the evening on the long moonlit piazza. It was she who planned the pic- nics and sails, and drives in the old hay-cart ; the berry parties, and romps on the green ; and the little cosy suppers in the back parlor just before bed time (that nobody but herself could have coaxed out of the fussy old landlord.) It was she who salted our coffee and sugared our toast ; it was she who made puns for us, and wrote verses ; it FANNY FEEN. 28 was she who sewed up pockets in overcoats, or stole cigars, or dipped the ends in water ; it was she who nursed all the sick children in the house ; it was she who cut out frocks, and pinafores, and caps, for unskilful mothers; it •was she who was here and there, and every where, the embodi- ment of mischief, and fun, and kindness ; and as she flew past her handsome husband, (with her finger on her lip,) bent upon some new prank, he would look after her with a proud, happy smile, more eloquent than words. " He was the handsomest man I ever saw — tall, commanding and elegant, with dark blue eyes, a profusion of curling black hair, glittering white teeth, and a form like Apollo's. I$ary was so proud of him ! She would always watch Eis eye when she meditated any little piece of roguery, and it was discontinued or perfected as she read its lan- guage. He was just the man to appreciate her — to understand her sensitive, enthusiastic nature ; to know when to check, when to encourage ; and it needed but a word, a looJc ; for her whole soul went out to him. " And so the bright summer days sped fleetly on; and now autumn had come, with its gor- geous beauty, and no one had courage to speak of 24 LIFE AND BEAUTIES OF breaking up our happy circle ; bflt all ! there came one, with stealthy steps, who had no such saruphs ! # * * * " The merry shout of the children is hushed in the wide'halls ; anxious faces are grouped on the piazza; for in a darkened room above, lies Mary's princely husband, delirious with fever ! The smile has fled her lip, the rose her cheek; her eye is humid with tears that never fall; day and night without sleep or food, she keeps untiring vigil ; while (unconscious of her presence,) in tones that pierce her heart, he calls unceasingly for ' my wife ! ' She puts back the tangled masses of dark hair from his heated forehead ; she passes her little hand coaxingly over it ; she hears not the advice of the physician, ' to procure a nurse.' She fears not to be alone with him when he is raving. She tells no one that on her delicate breast she bears the impress of an (almost) deadly blow from the hand that was never before raised but to hless her. And now the physician, who has come once, twice, thrice a day from the city, telLs the anxious groups in the hall that his patient must die; not one dare break the news to the wretched Mary ! There is little need ! She has gazed in their faces with a keen, agonized earnestness ; she has asked no questions, but she knows it allij and her heart is FANNYFEKN. 25 dying within her 1 No entreaty, no persuasion can draw her from the bedside. " The old doctor, with tearfijl eyes, passes his arm round her trembling form, and says, ' My child, you cannot meet the next hour — leave him with me.' " A mournful shake of the head is his only an- swer, as she takes her seat again by her husband, and presses her forehead low, upon that clammy hand ; praying God that she may die with him. " An hour of TIME — an eternity of agony has passed ! A fainting, unresisting form is borne from that chamber of Death, " Beautiful as a piece of rare sculpture, lies the husband ,! — no trace of pain on lip or brow ; the long, heavy lashes lie upon the marble cheek ; the raven locks, damp with the dew of death, cluster profusely round the noble forehead ; those chisel- led lips are gloriously beautiful in their repose ! Tears fall like rain from kindly eyes; servants pass to and fro, respectfully, with measured tread; kind hands are busy with vain attempts to restore animation to the fainting wife. Oh that bitter, bitter waking 1 (for she does wake. Grod pity her !) " Her hand is passed slowly across her forehead ; she remembers I she is a widow ! ! She looks 2 26 LIFE AND BEAUTIES, ETC. about the room— there is his hat, his coat, his eane ; and now, indeed, she throws herself, with a burst of passionate grief, into the arms of the old physi- cian, who says, betwixt a tear and a smile, 'Now God be praised — she weeps ! " "And so with the falling leaves of Autumn, ' the Grreat Eeaper ' gathered in our noble friend. Why should I dwell on the agony of the gentle wife ? or tell of her return to her desolate home in the city ; of the disposal of the rare pictures and statuary collected to grace its walls by the refined taste of its proprietor ; of the neoessaet disposal of every ariicle of luxury ; of her removal to plain lodgings, where curious people speculated upon her history, and marked her moistened eyes ; of the long, interminable, wretched days ; of the wake- ful nights, when she lay with her cheek pressed against the sweet, fatherless child of her love ; of her untiring efforts to seek an honorable, indepen- dent support ? It is but an every-day history, but (God knows) its crushing weight of agony is none the less keenly felt by the sufferer ! " THE SECOND MAERIAGE. TjlOETUNATELY for the subject of our sketch, her father, though poor, as we have said, hastened to make what provision he could afford for the comfort of the broken family. Nor did Dr. Eldredge turn a deaf ear, or pass by on the other side. Some bitter thoughts were doubt- less occasioned, by the remembrance of the luxu- ries of which she had been so suddenly bereft ; it was hard to sink like a star behind the hills of adversity — to pass suddenly from a gay and splendid career into the obscurity of a more common-place and quiet life ; and we can excuse the sensitive Fanny for some unreasonable com- plaints ; but, thanks to her own and her husband's father, she had the consolation and treasure of a home — a home, which, however modest, was in 28 LIFE AND BEAUTIES OF every respect comfortable, and not altogether inelegant. Sarah Eldredge was now in the full flush arid vigor of womanhood — and a widow ! It is a wise provision of nature which ordains that the most deeply wounded heart shall not always bleed. Hope springs from the ashes of grief. Time buries the dead past, and lifts the curtain from the glowing future. Night comes, that another morning, with all its glory and freshness, may dawn upon the earth. Why then waste the energies of youth in mourning over graves ? They will not give up their dead ; already the spirit of the lost one looks down upon us from blissful spheres, and says, "Be happy!" to our sorrowing hearts. Such a voice came to the young widow. She called reason and faith to her aid. She saw herself still blooming and attractive ; the same inviting world lay all around her; she longed for sympathy, for change, for life. Her first matrimonial venture had proved a happy one ; and the memory thereof prompted her tio risk another voyage on "Wedlock's perilous sea. Thus it might have been the very power of love that bound her to her first husband which threw open the welcoming doors to the advances of a new suitor. FANNY FEKN. 29 Mr. Farrington, a mercliant of Boston — a man of energy and upright character — made an offer of his hand. He had himself enjoyed matrimonial experience — was himself a parent — and was well qualified to sympathize with the young widow. They sought mutual consolation in marriage. But scarce was the honeymoon over, when that mutual consolation was followed by mutual sur- prise. Fanny learned to her sorrow that all husbands are not equally fond and indulgent; and the bridegroom discovered that Mrs. F. No. 2 wasn't the exact counterpart of Mrs. F. No. 1. The contrast was, in fact, so vast and amazing, that it seemed to require solitude and quiet, to consider it in all its bearings. Accordingly, Mr. Farrington resorted to travel and a change of scene; journeyed westward; and has not since been seen on tha down-east slope of the continent. The slender tie of affection between the happy pair, thus long drawn out, like a thread of India rubber, finally snapped. At the time of his departure, Fanny was board- ing with her children at the Marlboro' Hotel in Boston. Soon after, however, she ''removed to quiet but pleasant lodgings in another quarter of the city. Mr. Farrington took up his abode in Chicago, 30 LIFE AND BEAUTIES, ETC and soon after Fanny was connubially advertised in the columns of the Boston Daily Bee. Then, from the auction mart of a western court, Mr. F. gave out three warnings; cried — "Going! — going 1 ! — gone ! 1 !" and legally knocked down his wife jyith the hammer of divorce. Once more separated from her husband, the dashing Fanny wore no mourning weeds. Her lively circle of acquaintances found her fireside no less attractive than formerly. Once more a widow she had learned to wear gracefully her honors. VI. FANKT FEEN AT HOME, ■pANNY FEEN'S writings are expressive of lier character. But, if possible, slie is twice as orig- inal, spicy, and entertaining, in her person as in her sketches. To understand her perfectly, one should, see her and talk with her ; and to see her and talk with her to advantage, one should meet her on terms of chatty familiarity in her own private apartments. Fanny's home in Boston is well remembered by her favored acquaintances. Introduced into her unique parlor, the visitor found himself surrounded by pleasing evidences of luxury and taste, charac- terizing its occupant as a woman of elegant leisure. A- subdued, monastic light, pervading the apart- ment, never failed to add its charm to the visit. Convenient shutters, and heavy folds of curtains 32 LIFE AND BEAUTIES OF robbed the saucy daylight of its too garisb beams, and by nigbt, in the still and quiet hours, a rich shade surrounded the glowing globe of the astral, tempering its lustre to a soft, mellow effulgence. Fanny — as we have hinted — is just like her sketches, only "more so." Bubbles and flashes might be gathered from her conversation, that would eclipse anything she ever wrote. To have her sit by your side one hour, and sparkle, {talk don't express the idea,) is worth all the Fern Leaves and Euth Halls in the world. Witty and pathetic by turns; now running over with fun, and now with tears ; always sprightly, always plain and terse in her language, she is sure to en- tertain you for one hour at least, as no other woman can. She will entertain you another hour, some time, if you choose. But the probability is, you don't choose. Such women don't wear well. Their conversations are like " Fern Leaves "^bril- liant enough at first, but presently wearisome, and insipid. Consequently they have a great many short acquaintances, but no long ones. Their friends are not fast friends. We doubt if Fanny ever enjoyed an enthusiastic friendship which lasted more than a couple of years. Fanny's words are the least of her fascinations. -Her manner is that of a consummate actress. And FANNY FEKN. 33 it is not long before you discover that she is little- else than an actress. Her tears are regular stage tears. If she desires to excite your sympathy, she knows better than anybody else, how to do it. She'll improvise a " Ruth Hall" story for you, in- venting wrongs and sufferings to fit the occasion, and drop a few ready tears, like hot wax, to seal her testimony, — sometimes sobbing a little, and pressing your hand convulsively, to heighten the effect Oh, she can be fascinating as Cleopatra. She knows how to thrill you with an unexpected touch. Then her voice, how artistically tender its modnlations, how musically mirthful, how musi- cally sad by turns ! Oh, Fanny is a great woman ! She should go upon the stage, or institute a new " school of art and design " for the fair sex. Fanny has an off-hand, dashing way of enter- taining company, which we have never seen sur- passed. If you are so fortunate as to be a favored visitor, and to find her alone, you may make sure of her, for at least one evening. No matter who calls; the haughty Mr. A., the foppish B., the jealous and frowning C, are all neglected for your sake. " Sit still," says Fanny, " and they'll have sense enough to see they are not wanted, and with- draw." Accordingly, in a little while, out goes A., 2* 34 LIFE AND BEAUTIES OF Very stiffly. Then B. retires, bowing snobbisUy, and making insipid remarks about the weather. Finally comes poor C.'s gruff and lowering "good evening." And Fanny, clapping her hands, and laughing merrily, rejoins you upon the sofa, after shutting the door upon her last visitor — and whis- pering a consoling word in his ear, behind your back. Oh, matchless, diplomatic Fanny 1 Of course the polite Fanny does the agreeable in introducing you to her friends. But she entertains odd ideas about names. Sometimes you are ready to explode in convulsions of mirth, at the delight- fully careless manner in which she bestows upon you some comic patronymic, never before heard of in your family history. To-night you are Mr. Pilridge. Last night you figured as Smith. To- morrow you'll be Jenkins or Jones. Fanny is consistent, and invents names for all her visitors. You are no exception. Mr. White is introduped to you as Mr. Brown. (Why, indeed, shouldn't a lady take the same liberty with her friends' names as with her own com- plexion, and just change the color a trifle ?) Mr. Webb becomes Mr. Wing — a mere difference of a pinion. Mr. Eose is transformed into Mr. Minks, — probably on the principle that a rose by any other name will smell as sweet. In the same FANNYFERN. 35 way a Walker is dignified as a Eyder; Dix is expanded into Eichards; Eich becomes Poore, and Frenoli is translated into English. Now mistakes will happen in the best regulated families. Some fiinny ones occur in. Fanny's. 'Tisn't so easy a thing to remember all her names. Accordingly, forgetting that you are called John- son, for this evening, you gravely address Mr. Howard by that name. That gentleman replies, with a knowing smile, that Johnson is your name — you laugh, Fanny laughs, and it passes as a good joke. Or, perhaps, the other visitor has also become slightly confused, and readily subscribing to Johnson, bestows Howard upon you, by way of exchange. Or, while passing for Smith, you meet some one who knew you last week as Pilridge. Another pleasant incident is liable to occur. By a coincidence, you meet at Fanny's some friend whom you astonish into silence. You are similarly astonished; and observing no signs of recognition, Fanny proceeds to introduce you. you can scarcely contain yourself on hearing familiar Bob Peters dubbed as General Buding- ton ; and he looks hugely tickled at your appella tion of Eev. Mr. Bird. One additional circumstance we should not fail 36 LIFE AND BEAUTIES, ETC. to state. You never meet a lady visitor, at Fan- ny's. There appears to be but little affinity be- tween her and her own sex. " Caus6 unknown;" as coroners' verdicts say'of "poor deaths" that occur through neglect of the city authorities. VII. EAELT LITBRAEY EFFORTS. Ij'ANlTY first appeared before the public, in the columns of the Olive Branch, sometimes as "Fanny Fern," and in several instances as "Oli- via Branch." We knew, personally, the good old man, "frosty, yet kindly," who at that time filled the editorial chair of that paper. We re- member distinctly his own account of some of their frequent interviews. Like most others who viewed Fanny through the enchanted medium of a not too intimate acquaintance, he was, in some sense, dazzled* by her fascinations. Fanny is a regular meteor. You cannot choose but look at her, even if you don't place much faith in a light so erratic and fitful. The bewildered old gentle- man felt the touch of those magnetic little fingers upon his shoulder, and looked up, over his spec- 38 LIFE AND BEAUTIES, ETC. tacles, in absolute bewilderment, at the thing of smiles and tears standing before him. Nb wonder that he thought the sensitive, im- pulsive Fanny must be faultless, and sympathized profoundly in her execrations on hard-hearted parents and tyrannical husbands. No wonder, if defended by such lips, the worse appeared the better reaspn — and the price per column dwindled into comparative insignificance. Mr. Norris was Fanny's faithful friend. Already tottering toward the grave, he was not, indeed, able to render her as much actual service as the younger and more vigorous editor of The Tnie Flag, who was, next to Mr. E"., her earliest patron, but the proprietor of the Olive Branch gave her employment, friend- ship and counsel, which should have secured in return, at least gratitude. As we have intimated, Fanny had contributed but few articles to the Olive Branch, before form- ing an engagement with the Boston True Flag, and our next chapter will be devoted to a graphic description of her connection with that paper, by its editor. VIII. FANNY AND TH!^ TRUE FLAG. OOENB, True Flag Office, Morning. — In- ^ dustrious Editor at his desh.- — Enter dapper young gentleman, bowing. — Editor, with a pen over each ear and one in his fingers, looks up, nod- ding politely. Young Gent — Are you in want of contributions to your paper? Ud. — We are always glad to get good original articles, sir. Please tate a seat. Y. Q. — Thank you, sir. (Sits down in a Flag- bottomed chair. — we mean, a chair with a pile of True Flags in it.) I ani not a writer myself, but I have a lady friend, who, although inexperienced, manifests a good deal of literary talent, and would like to try her hand at an article or two for your paper. She belongs to a distinguished literary 40 LIFE AND BEAUTIES OF family ; her father is an editor, and she has a brother who is also an editor, and the author of seteral of the most popular books ever published in this country. Ed. — Very well ; we should be pleased to see a specimen of what she can do. (Y. Gr. withdraws.) Such was substantially the manner in which the yet unknown authoress, destined soon to become so celebrated, was first introduced to our notice. We should not, however, fail to state, in this con- nection, that already Mr. ISTorris, of the Olive Branch, had communicated to a member of our firm the fact, that a sister of Mr. N". P. Willis had applied to him for employment, and that he had recommended the True Flag as an additional source of income. Therefore, without the calling of names, we were prepared to make a shrewd guess at the identity of the young gent's lady friend. According to agreement, a couple of fragrant Ferns were plucked in due season, (no pun on the word due,) and sent to our office. We found the leaves a little coarse in fibre, but spicy, and accept- able. Fanny wrote upon a big foolscap page, in a large, open, very masculine hand. The manu- script was characteristic— decidedly Ferny — dash- ed all over with astonishing capitals and crazy, italics — and stuck full with staggering exclamation FANNY FERN. 41 points, as a pin-cushion with pins. In print, the italics were intended to resemble jolly words lean- ^ ing over and tumbling down with laughter, ^d the interjections were supposed to be tottering un- der the two-fold weight of double-entendres and puns. At first sight, the writing looked as though it might have been paced off by trained canary- : birds — driven first through puddles of ink, then marched into hieroglyphic drill on the sheet like a militia company on parade. All Fanny's manu- scripts demanded a good deal of editorial care to prepare them for the press; her first productions, particularly, requiring as thorough weeding as so many beds of juvenile beets and carrots. Fanny's price — we mean the price'of her articles — was^ two dollars a column. This was readily acceded to ; and the young gent received the mo- ney for her first contributions-height dollars for four columns — the morning after their delivery into our hands. In this place, it would be inex- cusable not to speak of another characteristic of the Fern manuscripts. When purchased, paid for, properly pruned and prepared for the printer's hands, they were invariably found to fall short of the stipulated amount of reading matter — one of . her spread-eagle pages nestling very quietly and nicely into a few lines of print. So trifling a cir- 42 LIFE AND BEAUTIES OP cumstance, however, was not,, of course, to be con- sidered, in dealing with a lady. Another Scene. True Flag Office, ten o'clock, a. m. Editor at Ms desh, with pens as he- fore, and an additional 'pencil in Jiis hair. — ^Enter jaunty bonnet, with gay feathers, elegant veil, rich broadcloth cloak, and silk dress — rather magnifl-|^ cent, if not more so. Editor hastens to place a chair. Jaunty Bonnet, (in a low, half- whisper, under the veil) — Excuse me — I'm a little out of breath, run- ning up stairs. I've brought Mr. Snooks to intro- duce me. Mr. Snooks turned out to be a Fern manu- script. The jaunty bonnet carried him in an ele- gant reticule, in close proximity to a coquettish hankerchief, redolent of perfume. The jaunty bonnet turned out to be — Fanny herself! Mr. Snooks was for sale,- and we bought him. Priee, two dollars a column — cheap enough for Snooks. We afterwards dotted his i's, dressed him up a little, changed his name — Snooks was a bad name — and printed him. This was our first interview with the witty and brilliant Fanny. Certainly, we did not judge that so gay and fashionable an attire had that morning FANNY FERN. 43 issued from a dismal garret, in a dark and narrow lane — that those well-rounded proportions drew their sole subsistence from the " homoeopathic broth" of niggardly landladies. Indeed, no starv ing necessity had compelled her to resort to the pen. With a true woman's spirit, she believed she could do something for herself, and determined to try. We liked her articles — she liked our pay— so we engaged h^ as a regular contributor. "We sug- gested that she should write stories, in addition to her sketches — by which arrangement she might easily earn fifteen dollars a week. She pleaded the necessity of finishing everything she undertook, at one sitting, and her inability to elaborate a long story. Still she desired more employment ; at the same time, the too-frequent repetition of " Fanny Fern" in our columns would injure both herself and us ; so the matter was compromised by giving her a second nom de plume — that of "Olivia," — which was attached to a number of her sketches. Up to this period, Mrs. Farrington had no repu- tation whatever as a writer, and we purchased her articles for their intrinsic merits only, paying for them what they were actually worth to us. As her reputation increased, and her value as a contri- butor was heightened, her remuneration was aug- mented accordingly. Although we paid her five. 44 «,LIFE AND BEAUTIES OP dollars a column, — the columns generally falling short one-third, at that, — we cheerfully gave her her own terms, until, when she demanded twelve dollars a column, we thought we would just take three or four days to scratch our editorial ear, and think about it. In this 'place, it may be proper to state that, at one time, without giving us any no- tice whatever, she broke her engagement, and en- tered into a contract with a New York publisher, by which she was to write excl.usively for his paper for one year. The terms offered were liberal, and for her sake, we rejoiced at her good filture. But munificent promises do not always lead to rich fal- filment ; and it was not long before Mrs. Farring- ton gladly returned to those in whose service she had always been promptly and handsomely paid. Fanny's style was novel and sparkling, if not very refined, and her fame sprang up almost in a night-time. Messrs. Derby & Miller, booksellers, of Auburn, IST. Y., had the shrewdness to see that a volume of her sketches would be apt to make a stir in the market, and wrote to us for information touching her real name and address. We replied that we were not then at liberty to divulge the name, but that any communications directed to our care would reach her^ A correspondence was at once opened, and Mrs. Parrington was offered four FANNY FERN. 45 hundred dollars for sufficient material for a volume — or, if she preferred, ten cents a copy on every edition printed. Now four hundred dollars cash, was tempting. It would purchase a rich dress, a dashing shawl, " several pairs of gaiter-bootS," and numerous boxes of those sovereign preparations, noted for the quali- •'ties that "impart a natural beauty to the com- plexion." In accordance with our advice, however, (for we foresaw a large' sale for the book,) she resolved to risk a little, in the hope that much might be gained, and accept the commission of ten cents a copy. The volume was easily thrown together, being compiled principally from the files of the Olive Branch and the True Flag. It was stereotyped at the New-England Foundry, in this city, and all the proof-sheets passed through our hands. At this time, Mrs. Farrington and her youngest child, " little Ella," boarded with a respectable family, in the spacious brick dwelling-house, No. 642 Washington-street; her eldest daughter residing with her grandfather Eldredge. Fanny occupied an elegant suite of rooms on the second floor. The parlor was sumptuously furnished; chairs of solid mahogany, covered with velvet — with centre-table, sofa, carpet, &c., of correspond- 46 LIFE AND BEAUTIES OF ing riclmess. The numerous visitors had no reason to suspect that all these luxuries were only poverty in disguise. Nor -would one readily imagine that the plump Ella and her blooming mother were accustomed to breakfast on shadowy dishes of hope, have the same served up, cold, for dinner, and then go supperless to bed. The landlady had an excellent reputation for liberality and kindness, and looked like anything but *the cruel ogress represented in Fanny's writings. The fact is — whatever may be said to the contrary by Fanny and her especial sympathizers, — she was at this time living in a style of luxury- and elegance which would have reflected no dis- credit upon any lady of fashion. There may be some good reason for concealing this sug- gestive fact, but we cannot discover any. " Fern Leaves, from Fanny's Portfolio " — the last part of the title originated with ourselves, and was adopted by Fanny — finally made its appearance. She was fortunate in her publishers. Never was book advertised so lavishly. No expense of time, money, or tact, was spared, to create a sensation and great sales. The result is known ; Fanny had occasion to thank us for our counsel; her commission amounted to several thousand dollars. Flushed with success, she FANNY FERN. 47 moved fi?om our sober, puritanic town, to the gay metropolis of New- York. But such'reputa- tions are short-lived. " Little Ferns " followed, and met with but a moderate sale. A second series- of Leaves vsras then published — but " oh, what a falling off was there !" The demand for the book was quite limited. IX. FANNY FERN IN CHURCH. "TiUEING Fanny Fern's residence in Boston slie was a regular attendant at the Park-street (Orthodox) church. Undoubtedly this circum- stance arose from a strong sentiment of natural affection. Not being on particularly intimate terms with her family, it was without doubt a great pleasure to catch such stray glimpses of their well-known faces as might be obtained under the lofty dome of their favorite church. It must have been by accident that she strayed away, one Sunday, from the well-beaten Calvin- istic path into the new Music Hall, to listen to the eloquence of Theodore Parker. "We regret, however, that she labored under a misconcep- tion with regard to the character of this church. Meting out justice to all, we must admit that it FANNY FBEN. 49 is the most democratic place of the kind in Boston. Black and white, rich or poor, alike are •welcome. The seats are free, in pursuance of the old adage, "first come, first served." Not here, a,s in too many of our churches, is the Christian gd#pel, "Son, give me thy heart," perverted by the man with the black velvet bag into " Son, give me thy caSh ! " The contributidn box, that terror to church-goers, is very rarely encountered, the expenses being defrayed by voluntary yearly subscriptions. But Fanny, re- gardless of these facts, must be held re^onsible for the sketch which follows : — "Do you call this a church ? Well, I heard a prima dona here a few nights ago; and bright eyes sparkled, and waving ringlets ' kept time to moving fans; and opera-glasses and ogling, and fashion and folly reigned for the nonce trium- phant, /can't forget it ; I can't get up any devo- tion here, under these latticed balconies, with their fashionable freight. Now if it was a good old country church, with a cracked bell and unhewn rafters, a pine pulpit, with the honest sun staring in through the windows, a pitch-pipe in the gal- lery, and a few hobruailed rustics scattered round in the uncushioned seats, I should feel all right ; 3 50 LIFE AND BEAUTIES OF but my soul is in fetters here ; it won't soar— r-its wings are earth-clipped. Things are all too fine ! Nobody can come in at that door, whose hat and, coat and bonnet are not fashionably cut. The poor man (minus a Sunday suit) might lean on his staff in the porch, a long while, before he'd dare venture in, to pick up his crumb of the Bread of Life. But, thank Grod, the unspoken prayer of penitence may mng its way to the -Eternal Throne, though our mocking church-spires point only with aristocratic fingers to the rich marCs heaven. " That hymn was beautifully read ; there's poetry in the preacher's soul. Now he takes his seat by the reading-desk; now he crosses the platform, and offers his hymn-book to a female who has just entered. What right has he to know there was a woman in the house ? Let the bonnets find their own hymns-^'tisn't clerical ! "Well, I take a listening attitude, and try to believe I am in church. I hear a great many ori- ginal, a great many startling things said. I see the gauntlet thrown at the dear old orthodox Calvinistic sentiments which I nursed in, with my mother's milk, and which (please" God) I'll cling- to till I die. I see the polished blade of satire glittering in the air, followed by curious, eager, youthful eyes, FANNY FERN. 51 ■wMch gladly see the searching 'Sword of the Spirit' parried. Meaning glances — smothered smiles, and approving nods, follow the witty cleri- cal sally. The author pauses to mark the effect, and his face says — That stvoke tells/ and so it did, for ' the Athenians ' are not all dead, who ' love to see and hear some new thing.' But he has another arrow in his quiver. How his features soften — his voice is low and thrilling, his imagery beautiful and touching. He speaks of human love ; he touches skilfully a chord to which every heart vibrates ; and stern manhood is strug- gling with his tears, ere his smiles are chased away. " Oh, there's intellect there — there's poetry there — there's genius there ; but I remember Geth- semane — I forget not Cavalry ! I know the 'rooks were rent' and the 'heavens darkened,' and ' the stone rolled away ; ' and a cold chill strikes to my heart when I hear ' Jesus of Naza- reth ' lightly mentioned. " Oh, what are intellect, and poetry, and genius, when with Jewish voice they cry, ' Away with Him!' " ' With Mary,' let me ' bathe his feet with my tears, and wipe them with the hairs of my head.' " And so, I * went away sorrowful,' that this human teacher, with such great intellectual posses- sions, should yet ' lack the one thing needfuV " X. FANNT FEKN IN BROADWAY. TTA ! there she comes, Ned ! " says Mr. Augus- tus Smallcane,, lounging on the arm of his friend. " Mag-nif-i-cent ! " drawls Mr. Tapwit, putting ._^ 121 NASSAU-STREET. Also for sale by Booksellers throughout the United States a^d Canadas. Price, in paper covers, 1 volumB, 60 cents. Bound, 75 cents. & COMPANION TO THE "ElARY OF A PHYSICIAN." DR. WARRKN'S aitE:AT WORK. i^wtifttllg Illustrate. NO-riOES 0(= -riHS PRESS. " The Phy8lclaI^ more than any other man, has the opportunity of studying the human mind, at limes when all false pretensions are thrown aside. In thiiso sketches, the reader is Introduced to a variety of characters, portrayed under various circumstances. In health and in sickness, in prosperity and in adversity,— and each character is delicately and graphically portrayed." — YVr/ies. , , ^. , , . j .v .- " A powerfully written work, decidedly a boot for leisure reading. Lively and pathetic by turns, and of a character that will secure it a place on the shelves of every choice library. ""A.'book that appeals to the kindest rympathies of the reader ; eminently calotilated tjj call forth all the fluer chorda of feeling in favor of benevolence and universal philanthropy. — Oazcttc. ^».«.» NEW YORK : H. LONG & BROTHER, 121 NASSAU STREET. Tiiifi Old Doctor w published in one voluirm, 75 cents— both editions hcautifuUij illustrated, vaid^ addrtssett as above. Paper covers, 50 cents ; or bound in ehthf OopiES MAILED on receipt of price, (paH A EOMANCE FOUNDED ON FACT-A WOEK-WOKTH BEADING. THE LAWYER'S STQRY; Or, THE OEPHANS' WRONGS. A DEEPLY INTERESTING NAKHATIVE, FOUNDED ON FACT. BY A MEMBER OF THE NEW YORK BAR, This story opens with a scene in New-York, only a few years ago, in which a brother and Bister, the liero and the heroine of the story, are introduced by the lawyer, in a conditioner honest poverty. He furnishes them with temporary emplo^ent, but subsequently loses Bight of them until they are recalled to his recollection in consequence of his reading an advertisemant respecting them in a Philadelphia newspaper, which hints that they are heirs to large property in England, as well as in the United States. With some difficulty the lawyer traces them out, and determines to take their case in hand ; but for a long time his efforts are fruitless, in consequence of Jesuitical machinations, employed by some of the noble relatives of the brother and sister^ who desire to get the property into the clutches of the Church. The young lady falls temporarily into the power of Jesuitical agents in this country, but is rescued just as she is on the point of being despatched to Italy, to be placed in a convent, through the compassion of a servant. Eventually they arrive in England, and the lawyer undertakes to watch over their interests, and at the same time obtains the aasist- ai]ce of an English lawyer of eminence. However, Jesuitical and aristocratic influences still prevail against them, and the two scoundrels, of the Quirk, Gammon and Snap school, named "Gripes and Cheatem," are employed by their titled relatives to throw every obstacle in their way, and for a long time they succeed. At length, however, truth prevails, and the story ends happily. The narrative bears on the face of it an impress of truth; certainly the author has dis- played a profound knowlego of hyman nature in all its phases, and without having his interest in the story weakened by any gross exaggeration or improbability, the reader, when he lays the book aside, will unconsciously think of the adage— *' Truth is strange— stranger than Fiction I" NOTICES OF THE PRESS. "Thb Lawyer's Story. — It is written by an eminent retired lawyer, many of the fojts recorded in which came under his own observation, and the characters are all drawn from real life. The plot of the story is briefly this: — George, th^ourth of England, when the Prince Kegent, gave Henry Fitzherbert an estate from the -Crown lands. The Prince's right to bestow lands were involved in 'dispute, and Fitzherbert came to America, where he died. His two children, a son and daughter, are the principals of the story, and, after many vicis- Bitudes and trials, through the aid of the American lawyer, they were finally placed in poa- BeBsion of the estate. The details and incidents of the story are of thrilling intereet, although, for obvious reasons, in certain instances, names, dates and localities ure changed ; yet in one or two instances these are closely adhered to. The work has received high encomiums ft-om literary gentlemen and others, whose praise is not lightly awarded. The book has been published in elegant form, suitable for a family library, and its tone throbghout Is chaste, while the plot and incidents are highly amusing and instructive."— Z>ai7i/ Palladium, *'TnE Lavj'yer's Story.— The author is a member of the New York bar, and his story purports to be a narrative of facts. The point of the tale is the restoration of a brother and sister, Americans, to their rightful heritage in England, against the oppositions and intrigues of a powerful British nobleman. The incidents possess much interest, and are certainly remarkable 'if true,' enough so to verify the old saw that ' truth is stranger than fiction.'" -~Fitckburg Reveille. " The Lawyer's Story.— This work Is founded on facts, many of which came under the author's personal knowledge; the principal characters are drawn from real life: and the interest of the whole is well kept up throughout the entire prepress of the story. It is pub- lished in elegant form, and its tone throughout is chaste, while the plot and incidents are highly amusing and instructive." — Daily Tribune. NEW YORK X H. LONG iSc BROTHER, PvhlUhed tn one volume-~heautifully bound, price 75 cents. In paper covers, price 50 ctmU, Ctpiea mailed on receipt of price, post paid, addressed as above. A WORK OP GREAT MERIT!! LILY HUSON: AN AUTOBIOfiRAPIIY OF AN ORPHAN GIRL. BY ALICE GREY. A "vivl life-like story, eminently calculated to interest the feel- ings of he reader. It will often ' exeite to laughter, but mora frequently move to tears, and alternately touch every sentiment of the soul. Lily Huson is a tale of real life. The characters por- trayed, still live and play their part on the "world's stage. And although Alice Grey has cunningly concealed their real names and positions, we fancy that many of her readers ■wiU be able to see through the veil which hides their identity, and readily to recognize them. We venture to assert that no person will read the opening chapter of this remarkable autobiography without following the heroine through the story, sympathizing in her distress, weeping with her over her misfortunes, and rejoicing in her success. As a book for the family library, Lily Hdson will have no superior. It' maj' be read aloud in the family circle, and the lessons it inculcates will sink deep into the heart, leaving good fruit behind. Real life- pictures possess more actual romance than the wildest flights of fancy and fiction. Domestic tales have now taken a permanent place in the world of light literature. The novel has become an instructive book — and the former prejudice against it has subsided. Mothers now place it in the hands of their children, and clergymen have been heard to recommend it from the pulpit. Among all the popular tales of the day — pictures of woman's love and suflfering, of woman's courage and virtue, painted by woman's hand — none will be found to possoss greater attraction than the autobiography now advertised. This work will be published in 1 vol. 12mo. cloth. Price, $1,00. H. I.OMO & BROTHER, 121 Nassau- Street, New York. THE SLAYE OF THE LAMP. BY WM. NORTH. *' who ■will exchange old lamps for new." Arabian Nights^ Entertainments, This strangely interesting novel is now ready. It will be recollected that the author, long and favorably known both ia Europe and America, as a writer of extraordinary power and brilliancy, lately comnaitted suicide, under the most painful cir- cumstances, almost immediately after the above work was com- pleted. He was a strange erratic genius — possessed of the most sensitive feelings, and was unable to bear up against the disappoint- ments and trials of life. Difficulties likewise, it is supposed, pressed hardly upon him — since he was a scion of a noble house in Eng- land — being related to Lord Worth, Earl of Guilford, and used, in early life, to wealth and luxury. The work in qnestion is in a cer- tain way an autobiography — for it is impossible to read it without perceiving that the hero of the tale is the author himself Like Lord Byron in the Oorsaib, Don Juan, and Childe Haeold, he relates his own strange life, and invests his principal character with his own peculiar sentiments. Exciting the story is, some- times to a painful degree — and the sad fate of its author investa it with singular interest. Genius flashes forth io every para- graph, while an almost morbid sensibility pervades each chap- ter. It is a book that read will be remembered, and it bids fair to become a standard work. It is the last, and undoubtedly the best of Wm. Nokth's numerous works. Orders should be sent in immediately. Published in 1 vol. 12mo. Beautifully bound. Price, ?1,00. H. I.01V0 & BROTHER, 121 Nassau-Street, New York,