He was swept by the waters wild down to his species of writing, she taught me composition, death.

A true friend hath left us, our rough mining band
No longer shall feel the warm grasp of his hand,
The heart that so often has made our souls thrill,
Lies cold on the mountain side, pulseless and

still.

Lay him down to his rest on lone mountain side,
Far away from his home and his frends he hath
died,

The dream of the sleeper shall waken in bliss,
His home is a golden land brighter than this.
FEATHER RIVER, California.

For the Schoolmaster.
My Dead Schoolmates.

BY JOE, THE JERSEY MUTE.

in which I soon went ahead of her. I blush

to confess that my success made me turn my back on her, and she declined in my estimation, though she was much attached to me. I seldom spoke to her. I was, however, told of her affection for me. Her eyes, too, spoke in language that could not be misunderstood. I pursued my studies with vigor, not thinking of love all the time. Mary possessed a handsome figure, with an expression of affection and love in her face. She wrote pleasing essays with facility. Her parents lived in New Jersey; they were opulent, and of high family. When she was fourteen years of age, she was attacked with an inflammation of the lungs, from which she never recovered. Thus were destroyed the expectations that had been formed of her at her start in scholastic life. She was in actual possession of five thousand dollars before her death, and would have inherited a large estate also.

CHARLOTTE published a piece in the "Ladies' Repository," which showed power and command of language. It was, I believe, the first effort of her pen. She was noted for her gentle disposition and propriety of deport

WE are born grow up-sicken - die and are gone forever! We must be deprived, too, of those we love dearest. We ought to rejoice in our worldly attachments just as long as we remain in this breathing world; but alas! with these is incorporated much of the pain that qualifies human enjoyment. We live but a few years, and then disappear. Oh the vanity of worldly pleasures! The blasted hopes and sufferings of childhood and man-ment. hood are heart-sickening to call to recollec- JOHN, who died in Baltimore several years tion. This is true of my recollections of ago, kept a shop, carrying on the trade of a those who have gone before us. sadler. He did an excellent business. He wrote well, although he was not a clever artist in the use of words. He was a person He had the same

MARY, my beautiful classmate, and I am proud to call her so, was the benevolent instrument in making me what I'am now. If of pure, unblemished life.

it had not been for her, I would not have turn of features with an Indian girl whom it

said I, a few weeks ago, to a young lady who was just returned from a visit to Lydia's pa

rents.

"She is an inmate of the insane asylum," returned she.

"Ah! that is impossible," exclaimed I. "No jesting, sir. She is a raving maniac. She wished to get married, though she had not yet fixed her affections on any man; but her parents and friends opposed her marriage, as they thought, because she was ill qualified for managing a family or at least keeping house, as she was deaf and dumb. She saw her brothers and sisters blessed with spouses, while she was solitary and alone in the cold world of single blessedness. She longed for a companion in whom to confide. The neglect of her friends, the opposition of her parents, the incessant yearnings of her heart, all preyed upon her mind until at length nature gave way to the weight of her anguish, and her reason was gone forever."

JAMES was the most laborious student in the institution. Possessed of a handsome figure, and well mannered, he won the affectionate esteem of his companious, and of the teachers. He was regarded by his fellowpupils as the Solon of the school. He was an heir to an extensive estate in Mississippi. After he went through his educational period, he returned home, and soon afterwards lost his father; whose death put him in possession of an extensive plantation. He liberated his slaves, and despatched them to Africa. After an interval of several years he returned to the institution, for the purpose of devoting himself wholly to literary pursuits. Loss of eyesight soon intervened to frustrate his purposes. He returned to his homestead once more. To add to his misfortunes, his reason was dethroned, I know not how and having passed several years in a terrible state of insanity, he died. His cousin, a deaf lady, is an inmate of the insane hospital. In regard to this unfortunate young lady, there is a tale of sorrow, which borders on the romantic. I must tell it, by way of illustrating the passions of the deaf and dumb after education. Lively and gay was Lydia, for so this lady was called, when I first saw her at the institution. She was rather tall, good looking, with blue eyes, and of a complexion naturally lovely; and her constitution was delicate. Her parents were wealthy, and lived in the sunny south. While in the ELLEN was the most intelligent girl that the institution, she kept up a regular correspond- deaf and dumb institution of which I have ence with her friends. They never neglected the honor to be a member, ever produced. to write to her when marriages took place To a powerful mind she united graces of peramong her immediate relatives; which naturson and face; she was fair as any dream-visally enough led her to think of marriage. In ion of the painter. All who enjoyed the process of time she left the institution to live pleasure of her conversation, concurred in with her parents. saying that no woman made your heart bow "What has become of Lydia, madam," before a purity so divine. General Walker,

Human nature is everywhere the same, and has been the same in all ages of the world. Let the parents of mute children ponder this.

James' sister, also deaf, died a few years ago, highly honored and respected. She possessed an uncommon share of mental strength. She sent a friend of mine, again and again, some of the sweet producing of her genius. She was a distinguished pupil of the gentleman to whose instruction, next to Heaven, I am indebted for the little information I possess.

whose revolutionary movements in Nicaragua drew upon him the wrath of John Bull, fell in love with her while he was editor of the New Orleans Crescent, and would certainly have married her if she had not died. She

The Martyrs of the Prison Ships.

BY A. M. DANA, OF AMHERST COLLEGE.

earlier times was well known as Wallabout Bay, but is now occupied by one of our finest naval yards. To this Bay is attached a more than historical interest, linked as it is with a chapter in our Revolutionary history, the awfulness of which has never yet been fully revealed. As the stranger visits this interesting spot, and stands on the well-washed decks of the North Carolina, the receiving ship of the yard, his thoughts naturally recur to the scenes that there transpired. Volumes perhaps might have been written on the heartsickening incidents that there took place, but history, as if fearing to unfold the awful realities of that inhuman tragedy, makes but a partial revelation. It is doubtless best that a veil of obscurity and ignorance, conceals from public contemplation this black chapter of humanity's sufferings, lest sense and feeling reel under the frightful picture, and the finer susceptibilities be blunted by the unearthly revelations.

On the eastern slope of the city of Brookwrote many letters, all of which were charac-lyn, is an inlet from the East river which in terized by elegance of diction and delicacy of sentiment. One of these, probably her best, was published four or five years ago in the Report of the Pennsylvania Institution for the Deaf and Dumb, and created no little sensation in literary circles. She lost her hearing at three years of age, and with it all memory of sound. Her widowed mother lives in New Orleans, surrounded with the luxuries of life. During the prevalence of the Asiatic cholera in that city, Ellen was attacked, and exclaiming, “Mother, I am dying," expired. Thus died the most accomplished mute girl in the United States. Gen. Walker published a short piece in his paper, the Crescent, paying an elegant tribute to her memory. Truly, death is at its work of mischief and destruction. My brother-in-law, who served in the army of the United States as captain before his death, described Ellen as possessing a versatility of talents, so rare in the deaf and dumb world. Her forte lay in the dissection of sentences. She was only twenty-four years of age when she passed from among us. Her superior talents will ever be remembered by those who had the pleasure of corresponding with her. Her name stands high upon the list of America's mute scholars, of whom I may remark en passant, the number is very small.

RHETORICAL FIGURE. - If you would have an idea of the ocean in a storm, just imagine four thousand hills and four thousand mountains, all drunk, chasing one another over newly-ploughed ground, with lots of caverns in it for them to step into now and then.

In 1776, and for six succeeding years, there was anchored at Wallabout Bay, several condemned hulks of the British, which were used for the reception and confinement of American prisoners of war. Ever since then they have been more widely known as the Prison Ships. From reliable statistics that have been furnished to the world, it is ascertained that eleven thousand five hundred American prisoners here met death - rendered worse than torture by the ravages of disease, the dreadful gnawings of hunger, and the miasma that their unutterable condition engendered. A large transport, the Whitby, was the first of the Prison Ships anchored here. Four more were soon after added, two of them the Hope

and Falmouth, were hospital ships, as they This was but one day's experience in this were termed. In April, 1776, the Jersey, a black hole of despair and death. Conceive it British ship of line, was added to the num-repeated for weeks and months, and the dread ber. Her appearance was truly prison-like. reality is more fully apparent. Their food "She was dismantled, her rudder unhung, consisted of the condemned provisions of her only spars a bowsprit and derrick for tak- British ships of war, putrid beef and pork, and ing in water. Her port-holes were closed, worm-eaten bread. Water, the smell of which and two tiers of small holes cut in her sides, would have affected the degraded African, to admit but a meagre supply of light and air. called, as if in mockery, the relief water, was These were protected by transverse bars of iron their only drink, although in full sight of the to prevent all possibility of escape. It is sup-ship ran a fresh, pure stream, whose life-givposed that ten thousand American seamen ing draughts might have saved many precious perished in her during their confinement. Her outward appearance, stripped of all ornament, corresponded but too well with the despair, suffering and death that reigned within."

lives. Yellow fever and the small pox seized nearly all who were imprisoned, and the wild and incoherent ravings of delirium and temporal insanity, rendered the place too awful for human language to depict. The very fellow that had lain down by your side in apparent health the night before, was found as the first faint gleams of the morning sun illumined the dismal gloom, a cold corpse. As the parched palates of the feverish prisoners, urged them to cry for water, their irregular attempts to ascend the hatchway, were met by the gleaming point of the bayonet, and when, with the morning light, came the glad summons to ascend on deck, the night's work of the King of Terrors was revoltingly revealed. Boats filled with human corpses were seen slowly moving towards the shore, and there amid the shifting and tide-washed sands, the common and shallow pit was filled to the top with these human bodies, and slightly cover

No Howard or angel of mercy ever visited her. Medical attendance was for a long time unknown, and the poor victims courted death as the only alleviation to a life too intolerable to be borne. Says one of the early pastors of Berkely, Massachusetts, who was a prisoner on board for some time, "On the commencement of the first evening we were driven down to darkness between decks, secured by iron gratings and an armed soldiery. A scene of horror which baffles description presented itself. On every side wretched, desponding shapes of men could be seen. Around the well room an armed guard was forcing the prisoners to the winches, to clear the ship of water and prevent her sinking, and little else could be heard but a war of mutual execra-ed with sand, left for the returning water to tions, reproaches and insults. During this operation there was a small light admitted below, but it served only to make darkness more visible and terrific. In my reflections, I said this must be a complete image and anticipation of Hell. Milton's description of the dark world rushed on my mind,

Sights of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell.'"

wash off, and generate the miasma that filled
the surrounding air.

"Each day at least six carcasses we bore,
And scratched them graves along the sandy shore,
By feeble hands the feeble graves were made,
No stone memorial on their corpses laid,
In barren sands and far from home they lie,
No friend to shed a tear when passing by,
O'er the mean tombs insulting Britons tread,
Spurn at the sand and curse the rebel dead."

an

city of

All the savage glut for vengeance and for which in either way sweeps the great city's blood, seemed here exhibited by those whom crowded population, it is designed as education and nature had taught better. honor and a tribute to the memory of these "Thousands there suffered and died whose noble martyrs. Still another is yet to be raisnames have never been known to their coun-ed on the highest eminence of the " trymen. They died where no eye could wit-churches," a crowning testimonial to their ness their fortitude, no tongue describe their memory. suffering or praise their devotion to their Now, where once those dreadful ships were country." And though no historic record of stationed, is anchored the receiving frigate of man's device has preserved their names, yet the yard; while instead of the boats that the patriot's God will not permit their secret made their daily trips of death, is the ferry devotion to their country to pass forever un-between the ship and shore, carrying over the revealed. This will be a part of the future's numerous strangers that visit this interesting just but awful revelations. locality. On the once low shore, then the

On May 26, 1808, under the auspices of the patriots' burying ground, are now the costly Tammany Society of New York, the entomb-docks, extensive ship-houses and machine ment of the tenants of these sandy graves shops. The din of busy life, and the rattle took place. Thirteen capacious coffins car- of machinery, with the music of the rippling ried the remaining relics of eleven thousand waters are now their only requiem. AmeriAmerican citizens and soldiers who perished on ca, truly, is rich in her graves. The memothe prison ships. The civic, military and navalries of the noble dead should surely inspire bodies of the two cities joined in the funeral us, their descendants, with some of their arceremonies, while the glad sunshine was re-dor and devotion. Each precious life lost on flected from the numberless sails, that like the those ships of horror and woe, should solembanners of peace floated o'er the rippling wa-nize life into what it is—a battle ground of ters of New York Bay. The beating hearts truth. Though the trials and privations of thirty thousand spectators were the wit- of war are not our fortune, yet in the life nesses of the solemn pageant. The memories struggle of every freeman there is quite as recalled by the scene, rendered it solemn; much of self-denying effort and patient sufferwhile the hearts of the American soldiery felt ing. The idea of human freedom - the probanew the inspiration that had won their noble lem of self-government and the perpetuity of our institution, are now the contests that invoke our truest service. The past with its mighty dead-its sufferings and successes admonish us, the future with its bright hopes and expectations inspire us

service.

Near the Naval Yard that is an honor and a strength to the government for whose establishment these victims gave their life, and an ornament to the city within whose precincts they perished, is the final grave of these American martyrs. To-day, within the shadow of the lofty spire of the Trinity of New York, stands a monument whose chaste architectural beauty arrests the attention of the passers by. Of the same style and material as the church itself, facing the street through labor.

"Shrink not from the strife unequal!
With the best is always hope:
And ever in the sequel,
God holds the right side up."

BE active in whatever field you choose to