had forced to make such an avowal, then he slowly withdrew. As he disappeared, Mademoiselle de Saulieu perceived the pale face of Felise at the extremity of the salon. The unhappy girl, concealed behind the folding-doors, had heard every word that was uttered. Her look of calm and settled despair was terrible to behold. pursuits of a naturalist, is one of the most charming characters in the book. He has all the simplicity and calm intelligence of one an exalting and edifying study. We respect whose faculties and energies are devoted to and delight in the boy who is so curiously active, and lives in so much happy excitement among his butterflies, chrysalises, and beeThe industrious study of God's works and wonders, in the habits and forms of his minor creatures, preserves the delightful purity and integrity of his character to the end of the history. The heart aches for Clementine, as the book closes, and the conventgates shut over her sorrows and great mistakes in life-discovered too late to be retrieved. "Aunt,' said she, I must return to the Annonciades---my place is there. I have reflected since yesterday. I see that Mademoiselle de Chameroytles. loves the Marquis de Gaudale, and, since I am the daughter of a criminal, he will marry her. Oh, aunt ! restore me to the convent, for, at this idea, I feel my father's blood flowing in my veins.' The same day Felise returned to the Convent of the Annonciades. When she crossed, for the second time, the formidable barrier of the cloister-gate, she was received by the superior and Father Boinet. "We were ever expecting you, my daughter,' said the good father. Come, my child,' exclaimed the superior, with accents of tenderness and joy. Oh, my poor bruised lamb, blessed be the Good Shepherd who leads you hither, and the day which restores you to the fold.'" Madame C. Rey baud excels especially in her descriptions of the landscapes of the tropics. Many of her best scenes are enacted in those glowing countries. She makes us sigh amid our fogs and frosts for the clear moonlight heavens, the luxuriant foliage, and the luscious fruits and gorgeous flowers of Southern America, Mexico, and the West Indian Isles. When we give ourselves up to the charm of her pages, the delightful odorous evening of the tropics seems stealing over the imagination; the exhalations of a thousand blossoms are breathing in the air; around the columns of the palm-trees, and through the rich verdure of the high wide boughs, fall the many-colored cups and bells of the innumerable parasite plants which grow with the pompous luxuriance of savage vegetation, in a soil unturned by man. Similar scenes filled the heart of Heber with a glorious comprehension of the beautiful, while wandering beneath the bamboo's arched bough" But we particularly recommend to English readers the story of "Clementine," which forms another part of the same series. The Marquis de la Rochefarnoux is warned by his incipient wrinkles that he is no longer an ornament to the court of Le Grand Monarque, who wished only to see around him a perennial maturity or bloom. He determines to retire to his castle of La Rochefarnoux, where one of his ancestresses had attained her hundredth year, and there to devote himself to the preservation of his life. He took with him his relations, Madame and Mademoiselle St. Elphège, who were to inherit a large share of his wealth; but, saith the Spanish proverb, "those who wait for dead men's shoes, may go all their lives barefoot." And so it proved. Madame died; Mademoiselle St. Elphège grew withered and old in waiting for her inheritance, and her spirits were depressed by the formal tyranny of the narrow-minded old man. When the ninetieth year of the Marquis's life was "bien sonnée," other candidates for the inheritance appear -Madame de Barjaval, his widowed niece, We follow her among the Negro populawith her young son, the Baron; and the ve- tion, and the supple, indolent, passionate ritable heroine of the story, Clementine, in creoles, into the company of those Spanish the bright bloom of sixteen, and the ignorance nobles who carried with them across the Atand innocence of a boarder in a well-regulat-lantic, among their sugar-canes and bananas, ed convent. We see the Marquis growing yellower and thinner every day, and his heirs more impatient. The young Barron, who is devoted to the "Where gemming oft that sacred gloom the proud prejudices of Europe, and old Spain. These are illustrated in the pretty story of "Mademoiselle de Chazeuil." She is the daughter of a distinguished French no bleman, who had married a beautiful halfcaste. This secret was concealed from Esther. Family misfortune and her father's death compel her to seek an asylum in the West Indies, in the home of her maternal grandfather, Simon Baez, of whose station, habits, and extraction she is entirely ignorant, as also of her father's mesalliance. The old man, filled with kindly affection, hastens to meet his young descendant, and the daughter of one of the proud nobles of France finds herself embraced by a Mulatto. In Paris, in the days of her wealth and prosperity, she had been affianced to a creole of high birth, the Marquis de Palmarola. The lovers were devotedly attached to one another, though the gentleman found himself perplexed by a previous intrigue with his cousin, Louise de Villaverde, who had perseveringly pursued and finally entangled him in an illicit connection. To gain his love, this lady committed dark and terrible deeds, for she had to remove two living obstacles ere she succeeded, namely, her father-in-law and her husband. Though no actual proof of her crime existed, an undefined suspicion of her guilt embittered every hour the Marquis was in her preShe was like himself, a creole, and Mademoiselle de Chazeuil discovers that Dona Carlota, the proud aunt of the Marquis, and his cousin, Louisa de Villaverde, who had returned to America, lived very near to her grandfather, whose extraction quite places him beyond the pale of their society. In Paris the young ladies had met as equalsin South America how vast was the gulf between them! The unadulterated blood of the followers of the Cid flowed in her rival's veins, while the nobility of her father, the Count de Chazeuil, could not make her more or less than the granddaughter of Simon Baëz, the freed man. When the fair Parisian first discovered her descent from slave-ancestors, and that her father had outraged the prejudices and opinions of his equals by his marriage with her beautiful mother, Esther's feelings are very melancholy : sence. "My poor Catherine,' said Simon Baez to her, was sixteen years old, gentle and pretty, and nearly as fair as thou art. The Count became attached to her, and she loved him: then an event occurred which is, perhaps, without example in this country. The Count asked my child of me in marriage, and he wedded her. A month later they departed together; I did not attempt to detain them; they could not stay here.' "Could not remain near you!-and for what reason?' said Esther. 666 Because thy father had made a marriage which drew upon him the disapproval and scorn of his own people,' sadly replied Baëz. 'Here a white man cannot marry a woman of color without incurring the contempt of his equals.' "But have you not told me that my mother troubled tone. was as fair as I am?' interrupted Esther, in a "But her origin was known; all the world knew,' said the old man, that she was of mixed race; besides, my child, there are signs by which persons accustomed to distinguish the difference of castes cannot be deceived. Even thou, fair as thou hast in thy veins the blood of the Black.' thou art, in thee thyself one can clearly see that "Esther bowed her head; she saw the distance which prejudices, unacknowledged in Europe but all powerful there, placed between her and Palmarola." The Marquis, however, seeks her out, renews his vows and protestations of attachment, while, with a fixed purpose, Madame de Villaverde endeavors to throw every obstacle in the way of the lovers, to separate and prevent them meeting. Heaven, however, favors them, and Mademoiselle de Chazeuil, reinstated in her fortune, sails from the Havannah with her good old bonne, Madame Abel and her faithful lover, for a land where the daughter of the French noble will be no more despised as the grandchild of the good old slave. The heart of the reader will sicken over the despair of the deserted and guilty woman; from her quivering hands she drops the letter that announces, in the words of the innocent girl, her happy prospects and departure with her future husband. Louisa, then, had sinned and suffered in vain. gaze was bent upon the ground; she seemed for a long time wrapt in some mourn- . ful thought; then in a low voice she murmured, God avenges the dead." " 66 Her 66 Le Dernier Oblat" is a tale of great power and beauty. The sin of the mother, who had seen her lover lying murdered before her, is, through long years, sternly visited on the hapless offspring of her intrigue. The vengeance of the outraged husband is steady and relentless. There is something terrible in the obedience of the conscience-stricken mother; it is painful to trace the tale of the frailty, and a husband's revenge. The latter hapless and guileless victim of a woman's portions of the narrative are inferior to the commencement and earlier chapters, in the saine manner that the first part of Mrs. Marsh's very beautiful novel, the "Previsions of the Lady Evelyn," greatly exceeds the merit of the lately written conclusion. This lady and Madame Rey baud possess the same class and grade of talent, and each country may be proud of these most agreeable and highly-gifted female writers. 66 66 We recommend "Marie D'Enambuc," | belongs "Jacqueline de Bavière," an inteGabrielle," "Mezelie," and "Madame de resting historical tale, which reminds us of Rieux;" and did time or space permit, we Mr. Grattan's manner and choice of subjects. could linger longer among the many pleasant Mademoiselle de Kérouare," by Sandeau, volumes of this prolific writer. Helene," is the brief sad story of a young heart, cast one of her latest productions, is, perhaps, less away in vain; and his later volume, "Un striking than other tales which we have Heritage," contains much true humor, and named; but it possesses the authoress's re- several clever sketches. The idea of a genfinement of feeling and beauty of style. tleman traveling over the world in search of a half-forgotten tune, possesses some novelty. The task allotted to us has been painful. We are wearied by the consideration of so much ability, combined with deeprooted heinous error. To form a correct opinion, we have perused very many volumes of the popular literature of France, and these, it is reasonable to suppose, are no unjust interpreters of the tastes, feelings, and sentiments of the mass of readers. We will only add, that the present confusion and misery of that country is no longer matter of wonder to us-we can be no longer surprised that she has fallen from her place among the nations. The existing disorganization is the ruinous climax of the corruption which has been gnawing within her vitals, for, at least, the last two centuries. It has now risen to spread over the surface of society—it has taken its seat by the domestic hearth. "Paul Pierre Rubens," by Berthoud, is an excellent novel. The prosperous artist-life of the great painter is placed most pleasantly before the reader, who is introduced to the eminent pupils of that great atelier. We are made acquainted with many of the eccentricities and adventures of the jovial and gifted band. This series of historical novels written by Brisset, blend much information with a good style, and he interests his readers strongly in the characters called up to figure on the stage. Catherine and Marie de Medicis; the bevy of fair maids of honor; the history of Poltrot and his victim; the subtile ambition of the Guises; and the fate of the Concini, have occupied his pen, in common with Mons. Dumas, who has dealt with largely, and handled less scrupulously, some of the same characters and portions of history. His works are, however, better known in England. To this class' of novels RICHARDSON, THE AFRICAN TRAVELER.There has been received from Mourzouk, the capital of Fezzan, a letter dated June 25, which gives some account of the movements of Mr. Richardson, the African traveler, and his companions. They were detained more than six weeks at Mourzouk, waiting for the Tourick escort from Ghat. At length, however, these wild chiefs of the desert arrived, and greatly to the astonishment of the Moors and Turks of Mourzouk, who could never believe that the hardy bandits of the Sahara would obey the summons of a Christian, and escort English travelers through the unexplored regions of Central Africa. The Turks had on previous occasions repeatedly invited the Touaricks to visit the town of Mourzouk, but they never would do so. The escort consisted of the eldest sons of the Sultan Shafon and the Sheikh Hatula. The son of the Sultan was to escort the traveler as far as Aheer, at the gates of Soudan. Before leaving for Soudan, the travelers will visit Ghat, and deliver to the Sultan and the Sheikhs the letter from the British Government. The travelers purpose meeting on the road up to Aheer all the caravans coming down from the interior to Ghat, so that in all probability intelligence will be received of their progress up to Aheer, which is about two months' journey from Mourzouk. It is satisfactory to learn that the travelers were, up to the date of the letter referred to, in good health and excellent spirits. From Bentley's Miscellany. SNAKES AND SERPENT CHARMERS. BY W. COOPER. Ar the present time there are at the Zoological Gardens, two Arabs, who are eminently skilled in what is termed "SnakeCharming." In this country, happily for ourselves, we have but little practical acquaintance with venomous serpents, and there is no scope for the development of native skill in the art referred to; the visit, therefore, of these strangers is interesting, as affording an opportunity of beholding feats which have hitherto been known to us only by description. We propose, therefore, to give some account of their proceedings, and hope to draw attention to that portion of the collection which has been mentioned. Visiters to the Zoological Gardens will remark, on the right hand side, after they have passed through the tunnel and ascended the slope beyond, a neat wooden building in the Swiss style. This is the reptile-house, and whilst our readers are bending their steps towards it, we will describe the performances of the Serpent Charmers. The | right shoulder, a white loose vest, full white trousers, tied at the knee, scarlet stockings and slippers, and a fez or red cap, with a blue tassel of extra proportions, on his head. In his right ear is a ring, so large that it might pass for a curtain ring. Precisely as the clock strikes four, one of the keepers places on a platform a wooden box containing the serpents, and the lad Mohammed proceeds to tuck his ample sleeves as far up as possible to leave the arms bare. He then takes off his cloth jacket, and opening the box, draws out a large Cobra de Capello, of a dark copper color: this he holds at arm's length by the tail, and after allowing it to writhe about in the air for some time, he places the serpent on the floor, still holding it as described. By this time the cobra has raised his hood, very indignant at the treatment he is receiving. Mohammed then pinches and teases him in every way; at each pinch the cobra strikes at him, but, with great activity, the blow is avoided. Having thus The names of these are Jubar-Abou-Hai- teased the snake for some time, Mohammed jab, and Mohammed-Abou-Merwan. rises, and placing his foot upon the tail, irriformer is an old man, much distinguished in tates him with a stick. The cobra writhes, his native country for his skill. When the and strikes sometimes at the stick, sometimes French occupied Egypt, he collected serpents at his tormentor's legs, and again at his hands, for their naturalists, and was sent for to Cai- all which is avoided with the utmost noncharo to perform before General Bonaparte. He lance. After the lapse of about ten minutes, described to us the General as a middle-Mohammed coils the cobra on the floor, and sized man, very pale, with handsome features, and a most keen eye. Napoleon watched his proceedings with interest, made many inquiries, and dismissed him with a handsome "backsheesh." Jubar is usually dressed in a coarse loose bernoose of brown serge, with a red cap on his head. The gift, or craft, of serpent-charming descends in certain families from generation to generation; and Mohammed, a smart active lad, is the old man's son-in-law, although not numbering sixteen years. He is quite an Adonis as to dress, wearing a smart, rich-embroidered dark-green jacket, carried-hussar fashion-over his leaves him whilst he goes to the box and draws out another far fiercer cobra. Whilst holding this by the tail, Mohammed buffets him on the head with his open hand, and the serpent, quite furious, frequently seizes him by the forearm. The lad merely wipes the spot, and proceeds to tie the serpent like a necklace around his neck. Then the tail is tied into a knot around the reptile's head, and again head and tail into a double knot. After amusing himself in this way for some time, the serpent is told to lie quiet, and stretched on his back, the neck and chin being gently stroked. Whether any sort of mes meric influence is produced we know not, but the snake remains on its back, perfectly still, as if dead. During this time the first cobra has remained coiled up, with its head erect, apparently watching the proceedings of the Arab. After a pause, the lad takes up the second. cobra, and carrying it to the first, pinches and irritates both, to make them fight; the fiercer snake seizes the other by the throat, and coiling round him, they roll struggling across the stage. Mohammed then leaves these serpents in charge of Jubar, and draws a third snake out of the box. This he first ties in a variety of apparently impossible knots, and then holding him at a little distance from his face, allows the snake to strike at it, just dodging back at each time sufficiently far to avoid the blow. The serpent is then placed in his bosom next his skin, and left there, but it is not so easy after a time to draw it out of its warm resting place. The tail is pulled; but no! the serpent is round the lad's body, and will not come. After several unsuccessful efforts, Mohammed rubs the tail briskly between his two hands, a process which-judging from the writhings of the serpent, which are plainly visible-is the reverse of agreeable. At last Mohammed pulls him hand-over-hand-as the sailors say, and just as the head flies out, the cobra makes a parting snap at his tormentor's face, for which he receives a smart cuff on the head, and is then with the others replaced in the box. Dr. John Davy, in his valuable work on Ceylon, denies that the fangs are extracted from the serpents which are thus exhibited ; and says that the only charm employed is that of courage and confidence,--the natives avoiding the stroke of the serpent with wonderful agility; adding that they will play their tricks with any hooded snake, but with no other poisonous serpent. In order that we might get at the truth, we sought it from the fountain-head, and our questions were thus most freely answered by Jubar-Abou-Haijab, Hamet acting as inter preter : Q. How are the serpents caught in the first instance? A. I take this adze (holding up a sort of geological hammer, mounted on a long handle) and as soon as I have found a hole containing a cobra, I knock away the earth till he comes out, or can be got at; I then take a stick in my right hand, and seizing the snake by the tail with the left, hold it at arm'slength. He keeps trying to bite, but I push his head away with the stick. After doing this some time I throw him straight_on_the ground, still holding him by the tail; I allow him to raise his head and try to bite, for some time, in order that he may learn how to attack, still keeping him off with the stick. When this has been done long enough, I slide the stick up to his head and fix it firmly on the ground; then taking the adze and forcing open the mouth, I break off the fangs with it, carefully removing every portion, and especially squeezing out all the poison and blood, which I wipe away as long as it continues to flow; when this is done the snake is harmless and ready for use. Q. Do the ordinary jugglers or only the hereditary snake charmers catch the cobras ? A. We are the only persons who dare to catch them, and when the jugglers want snakes they come to us for them; with that adze (pointing to the hammer) I have caught and taken out the fangs of many thousands. Q. Do you use any other snakes besides the cobras for your exhibitions? A. No; because the cobra is the only one that will fight well. The cobra is always ready to give battle, but the other snakes are slugglish, only bite, and can't be taught for our exhibitions. Q. What do the Arabs do if they happen to be bitten by a poisonous snake? A. They immediately tie a cord tight round the arm above the wound and cut out the bitten part as soon as possible-some burn it ; they then squeeze the arm downwards so as to press out the poison, but they don't suck it, because it is bad for the mouth; however, in spite of all this, they sometimes die. Q. Do you think it possible that cobras could be exhibited without the fangs being removed? A. Certainly not, for the least scratch of their deadly teeth would cause death, and there is not a day that we exhibit that we are not bitten, and no skill in the world would prevent it. Such were the particulars given us by a most distinguished professor in the art of snake-charming, and therefore they may be relied on as correct; the matter-of-fact way in which he acted as well as related the snake-catching, bore the impress of truth, and there certainly would appear to be far less mystery about the craft than has generally been supposed. The way in which vipers are caught in this country is much less artistic than the Arab mode. The vipercatcher provides himself with a cleft-stick, and stealing up to the reptile when basking, pins his head to the ground with the cleft, |