grow larger and larger, and to completely overshadow the flying horsemen who are dropping to pieces and dissolving? They are the North!" All this was gravely uttered, as if a matter of absolute fact. How happened her imagination and ours to play the same trick at the same time? who can tell? A correspondent sends us a couple of curious instances of the efficacy of imagination, as a healing medium. We think they explain certain effects in the modern wonder world, which are attributed to quite other agencies. The first is a case of cure by what he calls. THERMOMETRIC TREATMENT. "Good gracious! I never thought of the medicine-chest. I'll look into it; perhaps there may be one in it.” The chest was brought out and overhauled by the captain, who managed to place the handle of a corkscrew in full view of the passenger, but out of his own sight, while he searched all other parts of the chest. It made the tooth-ache easier,a good deal easier,-quite easy; · - in fact, it quite passed away, and he need not trouble himself to find the instrument." - Years afterward the captain met his passen In the life of Sir Humphrey Davy we find an account of a remarkable cure of a man who for seven years had suffered under a malady that entirely disabled him from work. It was soon after the discovery of oxygen gas. Dr. Beddoes had applied oxygen to cure diseases of the lungs, with astonishing success; and had ex-ger, and, after discoursing on the times, asked tended its use to many diseases with which the whether his tooth had troubled him again. It lungs seemed to have nothing to do, yet which had not ached since that time, although it had were strikingly affected by the gas. Davy, decayed. then a youth, was assistant to Beddoes, and made the gas, put it into bladders, and administered it to the patients, through a tube and mouth-piece. In order to be entirely scientific, it was the practice to observe the change of temperature of the blood caused by the gas; this was done by putting a thermometer down the patient's mouth, before and after the operation. The patient in this case, was an ignorant man, and had no idea of the process to which he was to be subjected. He was seated in a chair like a barber's, his head turned back, and the thermometer put into his mouth for several minutes. When it was removed, he stretched his limbs, and declared that he felt much relieved. Davy winked at the spectators and sent the patient away without administering the gas; and this operation was repeated every day for a fortnight, when the patient was entirely cured. Dr. Beddoes, who published a monthly medical journal, could not wait for the next number of it, but must publish a pamphlet to inform mankind of the cure, and was prevented from doing so only by the confession of Davy that he had taken the liberty to experiment on the patient's imagination. Capt. D., who sawed off the figure-head of the Constitution, is a practical joker. He once had a passenger who had a tooth-ache, and was indignant because there was no instru "Well," said the captain, "I did not have much hope of curing that tooth-ache, but I thought it well to try." "You cure it! how so? You did not touch it." "Well, I did as much as most doctors do; I set your imagination at work upon it, but it was rather a desperate dodge. If I had really had a stout turnkey to show you I should have felt sure; but having only a cork-screw, I was doubtful. You recollect that handle? Well, my opinion is, that when a man is desponding, you must encourage him with a little pity, and when he is violent, you must show him an instrument. A sugar pill, or a cork-screw will do, if he believes aright.” THE PLAGUE. The following most graphic and appaling picture of the "Great Plague" of 1665 is taken from the romance of Rothelau, and is sketched with a master's hand. It will be remembered by many of our readers that this terrific pestilence, the most awful that ever desolated a civilized country, well-nigh made London a desert, and its ravages, as has always been believed, were only stayed, when a dreadful fire which burned for weeks unchecked, had laid half the great city in ruins. We read the de scription in our childhood, and have never met it since until this day, but, so indelibly was it burned into our memory, that nothing has ever been able to deface it, and through all the years that have intervened, we could at any time have repeated it almost line for line.ED.] "In its malignity it engrossed the ills of all other maladies and made Doctors despicable. Of a potency equal to death it possessed itself of all his armories, and was itself the death of every other mortal distemper. The touch, yea, the very sight of the inflicted was deadly; and its signs were so sudden, that families seated in happiness at their meals, have seen the plague spot begin to redden, and have wildly scattered themselves forever. The cement of society was dissolved by it. Mothers when they saw the sign of infection on the babes at their bosom, cast them from them with abhorrence. Wild places were sought for shelter;-some went into ships and anchored themselves afar off on the waters. But the angel that was pouring the vial, had a foot on the sea as well as on the dry land. No place was so wild, that the plague did not visit-none so secret that the quicksighted pestilence did not discover-none could fly that it did not overtake. It was as if heaven had repented the making of mankind, and was shoveling them all into the sepulchre. Justice was forgotten, and her courts deserted. The terrified jailors fled from the felons that were in fetters-the innocent and the guilty leagued themselves together, and kept within their prison for safety-the grass grew in the market-places; the cattle went moaning up and down the fields, wondering what had become of their keepers; the rooks and the ravens came into the town and built their nests in the mute belfries: silence was universal, save when some infected wretch was seen clamoring at a window. For a time all commerce was in coffins and shrouds, but even that ended. Shrifts there were none; churches and chapels were open, but neither priest nor penitent entered; all went to the charnel house. The sexton and the physician were cast into the same deep and wide grave: the testator and his heirs and executors were hurled from the same cart into the same hole together. Fires became extinguished, as if its elements, too, had expired. The seams of the sailorless ships yawned to the sun. Though doors were left open, and coffers unwatched, there was no theft-for all offences ceased, and no crime, but the universal wo of pestilence, was heard of among men. The wells overflowed and conduits ran to waste; the dogs banded themselves-having lost their masters-and ran howling over all the landhorses perished of famine in their stalls-old friends but looked at one another when they met, keeping themselves far aloof-the children went wandering up and down, and numbers were seen dead in all corners. Nor was it only in England that the plague so raged. It traveled over a third part of the whole earth, like the shadow of an eclipse, as if some dreadful thing had been interposed between the world and the sun, the source of life. At that epoch, for a short time, there was a silence, and every person in the street for a moment stood still, and London was as dumb as a churchyard. Again the sound of a bell was heard for it was that sound, so long unheard, which arrested the multitude and caused their silence. At the third toll a universal shout arose, as when the herald proclaims the tidings of a great battle won, and then there was a second silence. The people fell on their knees, and with anthems of thankfulness rejoiced in the dismal sound of that tolling death bell-for it was the signal of the plague being so abated that men might again mourn for their friends, and hallow their remains with the solemnities of a burial.” MEMORIES. Among the papers and books left in our poɛsession by the late publisher of the Repository, we find many choice pieces that we do not recollect ever seeing in print. From these we select one by Mrs. S. C. E. Mayo, and another by Henry Bacon. They will, to many of our readers, call up memories of the past, when, unitedly, these departed friends edited the Repository, and in which work they continued until they were called to a better home. We venture also, to publish another piece written by one who was the companion of the late publisher in his early manhood, one who is not known as, nor ever aspired to be an author. Years have passed since she left this earthly vale, and now there is a happy re-union in heaven, where they neither marry nor are given in marriage. We know these gems will be interesting to the readers of the Repository. OUR STAR. BY MRS. S. C. E. MAYO. One radiant Star shines forth and brings I've seen thee, Everlasting God, to-day! O, there is strength, that, like the rushing Comes to my every nerve with quick'ning power, When I behold the greatness of thy glorious As in the poet's lines. I feel his soul. I have been nearer to thee, God, to-day! PARTING HYMN. BY L. A. T. The time has come, the hour is near, And you, kind teacher, fain we'd bless, The following is a unique specimen of The Rev. Mr. Keep in his Narrative, says Sixty years ago, an old-fashioned man wrote of a cherished book. We meet, occasionally, the following rude lines on the opening page even at this time, individuals to whom we should like to repeat them. 66 If I this book do lend to you, So soon as you have read it through, Then after which, if you do want Just come to me and you shall see This book comes the nearest of anything we have seen, of that oft attempted work, the suggestion of thought, and the stimulating of the mind in its pursuit of truth. Most books save the minds of the students all labor— make them merely receptacles of thought. Mr. Bartholomew has done the hundred-fold better thing, has given a treatise which will make the student think as well as receive thought. A question is asked; the answer is given as briefly and concisely as possible; then follows the Scripture quotation, illustrative and confirmatory of the answer. In this way, the author has given twenty-seven chapters on Biblical Themes such as Revelation, the Law, the Priesthood, the new Dispensation, the Gospels, the Epistles, Scriptural Views of God, Man, Prayer, of Death, of the Future Life. The book will be welcome in all our Sunday schools. Teachers, we are sure, will find it full of suggestion, and will be greatly aided by it in their labors. The mechanical execution of the book is decidedly extra. It has, so far as we have seen, neither rival nor second, Even a poor book in such a dress would be welcome. THE LADIES' REPOSITORY. AUGUST, 1862. THE MINSTREL AND HIS BRIDE. BY MRS. C. M. SAWYER. Bard and minstrel! What associations of beauty and delight do those names of another and long vanished age awaken in the mind! As our fingers trace the magic words, what gorgeous pictures of princely banquets and splendid tourneys, of doveeyed sweetness and queen-like beauty, of panoplied knights and careering steeds, float in dreamy and bewildering mazes through the brain! In the old romantic days of chivalry and knightly valor, there was no art more cultivated and more honored than that of the minstrel, or minne-singer. The minstrel, with his harp and his fiery glance of love and inspiration, was more potent to stir the heart of nations than the monarch on his throne. Nobles, princes, and even kings, ofttimes forsook their toils and their dangers, to indulge in the beautiful dreams of poesy; or, uniting the harp with the sword, went forth, lance in rest, to do, as fortune might direct, good battle for the oppressed, or to chant the praises of beauty in the bower of their lady-love. It was, perhaps, in the latter part of the twelfth century, in the early days of the crusades, that this beautiful art attained the zenith of its glory; and it is a well-attested tradition, that England's chivalrous king, the lion-hearted Richard, was himself a minstrel of no ordinary merit. Fostered and cherished by so great a monarch, the atmosphere of his presence was the paradise of minstrels, and he who could weave the lay and strike the harp with the greatest skill, might bask in the smiles of youth and beauty, and rest secure under the favor of royalty, without a fear for the future. Those were glorious days for the minstrel, but it was, perhaps, unfavorable to the true interests of the art that its course was so bestrewed with flowers; for the flint of misfortune is often necessary to strike out the sparks of genius, and notwithstanding all the patronage of royalty and nobility, minstrelsy began almost immediately to decline. The noble and romantic spirit which had animated it was lost; selfishness crept in to mar its purity, and it became gradually prostituted to unworthy purposes, until it was evidently verging to its fall. Thus more than a century went by, when a star arose in Mentz, a city of Germany, which shed a new brilliancy over the tarnished and half-buried art; something of the spirit of the early bards returned, and, in the person of Hienrich Von Meissen, seemed about to bring back the earlier and purer days of song. Obscurity rests over the parentage of this remarkable young man, and whether he was a prebendary of Mentz, a doctor of theology, or a simple, independent burgher, who elevated himself to the art from a love of it, history and tradition are alike undetermined. But, that he possessed a true and deep feeling for the noble and the beautiful, is undoubted; and, as he suddenly entered upon the almost deserted path of the minne-singer, and the light of his gen |