separated the choir of the nuns from the body of the church. At the same instant, the Bishop who was to receive her vows issued from the vestry, and the ceremony began. It is customary, when the dress of the novice about to profess has been blessed by the officiating priest, that a curtain is drawn over the grating of which mention has already been made; on its removal, the spectators only perceive a black pall-that which is used for funerals-spread on the ground in the middle of the choir; on this the novice prostrates herself; and the sides being thrown over her, she is hidden from the view of all present. The sisters then commence chanting, in mournful tones, the 130th Psalm, which forms part of the burial service in the Romish Church, It is needless to add that this part of the representation is intended to impress on the minds of the congregated relatives and friends that henceforward their sister, or daughter, or fondly cherished companion, is as entirely cut off from all intercourse with them as if she had really departed this life. With a fixed and agonized look, Monsieur Delaroche gazed on the pall which shrouded from his sight his only earthly treasure, and as he thought of the long farewell that this idol of his heart had bid to all that she held near and dear on earth, he felt, as he imagined, inspired from on high to perform on his side some great sacrifice which would tend to assimilate his lot with that of the self-devoted being who would ever be dearer to him than life itself. The ceremony was concluded. His resolution was taken. He had formed the extraordinary vow to make an offer of marriage to the first woman who would cross his path as he went out of the chapel! The crowd was slowly dispersing. The artist rose from his knees, and, with a throbbing heart and a faltering step, he had just reached the door, when his eyes fell on a young girl engaged in fervent prayer by the side of a woman who appeared to be her mother. They were both simply clad, and evidently belonged to that class of society which in France is designated as the Bourgeoisie. Eugene Delaroche felt that the crisis of his fate was at hand, and heedless of consequences, he thus abruptly addressed the elder of the two women: of honor that I will do every thing that lies in my power to insure her happiness." The two women, amazed at this unexpected and scarcely warranted address, seemed for an instant inclined to doubt of the sanity of the speaker; but they were speedily reassured when, in a few words, he acquainted them with the vow he had just made, and entreated them to put implicit faith in the integrity of his intentions. Then, perceiving for the first time, that his destined wife was afflicted with lameness, he added, with a melancholy smile, which, however, had not the slightest tinge of sarcasm : "Mademoiselle, when first you attracted my attention, I was not aware that you were lame, but this circumstance can not influence my decision or cause me to repent of the engagement I have made." Doubtless it will be the opinion of many of my readers, that the pride of the young girl would have been wounded by this strange and humiliating offer of marriage, and that her first indignant impulse would have led her to decline the doubtful honor proffered her; but the case proved far otherwise. A superstitious dread of being even the indirect cause of the violation of a vow, the more sacred, because made in God's own Sanctuary-a feeling of intense compassion for the unhappy lover, whose pale and haggard features bore evident traces of the storms that had swept over him-a latent, scarcely-defined hope, that one day she herself might succeed in winning his affections, and take, at least to a certain extent, the place of her he had loved and lost-all these feelings combined acted so powerfully on the mind of Louise Gauthier, that she consented to become the artist's wife, in spite of sundry misgivings, which her more prudent mother could not forbear expressing, as to the eventual results of a union formed under such unfavorable auspices. The young couple were married shortly after their first momentous interview, and went to reside in the Faubourg St. H. * * * * There seems little reason to doubt that Monsieur Delaroche kept his word, and proved himself none otherwise than a kind and attentive husband. This ought to have satisfied his young wife, who was fully aware that her husband had not proCC Madame," ," said he, "I am a gentle- mised more than he intended to fulfill. man-will you consent to your daughter's But she lived in the hope that her untirbecoming my wife?-I give you my wording devotion might at last meet with a requital adequate to its extent, and that many happy days might yet be in store for her. She was, however, doomed to disappointment. Monsieur Delaroche could not love twice in his life as he had once loved, and sternly resolved as he was to banish from his heart every recollection of that past, so fraught at once with sweet and bitter memories, at the same time he was too upright to fain the semblance of an affection which had no room within his breast. Thus month after month passed away, and the wife only found indifference where she sought for love. The child whose birth shed a gleam of ineffable joy over her dreary path, and that doubtless would have formed a bond of union between its parents, was taken from them in the early dawn of its young life-long ere its baby lips had learnt to lisp its mother's name. Then, indeed, she felt desolate, and gave herself up to despair. No friend was near to speak peace to her troubled soul, and to tell her that her "Maker would be her husband;" that there is a "Friend that sticketh closer than a brother," even that pitying Jesus who leaves no sorrow untouched by sympathy, to whom every fainting spirit may bring its fearfulness, every drooping heart its sad burden of woe. There was no one to point out to her that "better land" where she might hope to meet again the babe whose untimely end she mourned, nor to whisper in her ear the words of heavenly comfort which fall on the aching heart like the early dew on the parched herb; but all was darkness within, and the grave appeared to her the only refuge from the trials of a loveless home. One morning, her husband having left her at an unusually early hour, to attend to some business of importance, she availed herself of his absence to throw herself out of the window, and on his return home he found his wife a corpse. Undecided of purpose, and scarcely knowing where to go, he bent his steps toward the Far West, and at length settled in America, there devoting himself entirely to his artist's profession. Ere, however, many months had elapsed, the death of an uncle in France, an eccentric old bachelor, whom he scarcely knew, left him in possession of considerable fortune. Since this change in his circumstances, Eugene Delaroche took up his final abode in a remote colony of the Brazils, where he is now known as the founder of an institution, the object of which is to provide a home for a few amongst those, whatever their position in society may be, who, like himself, having failed in early life, and without any hope of earthly happiness, turn aside from the din and glare of a busy world, in search of that solitude which is so precious a boon to the aching heart, and the tempest-tossed spirit. This is a true story. SPRING YE Coax the timid verdure And soft clouds wandering. The choir of birds on budding spray, A fresher pulse, a wider day, The gay translucent morning The noonday sprinkles shadows The round sun's sinking scarlet rim The darkling hours are cool and dim, As vernal night should be. Our earth has not grown aged, With all her countless years; She works, and never wearies, Is glad and nothing fears. IS COME. The glow of air, broad land and wave In season reäppears; And shall, when slumber in the grave These human smiles and tears. Oh! rich in songs and colors, The distant-flying swallow, The upward yearning seed, Find nature's promise faithful, Attain their humble meed. Great Parent! Thou hast also form'd From Chambers's Journal. FOG-SE AS OF On the evening of the 2d of January, in the present year, the erratic moon passed, while on her wanderings, between the earth and the planet Jupiter. The planet was wide awake, sparkling with brilliancy at the time; but the movements of Cynthia were so brisk, that he found himself excluded from the benefit of earth-shine before he could turn himself round. In ninety short seconds, his pleasant face was entirely hidden from the friendly observers who were watching it from their stations upon the terrestrial sphere. THE MOON. of the picture in the act of sweeping before it; the smallest amount of vapor or gas would perceptibly dim and distort the delicately sketched light image contemplated under such circumstances. When it is Jupiter that undergoes occultation, there is also additional interest, because this planet is waited upon by four satellites of considerable brilliancy, which have to pass in succession behind, and out from, the border of the moon; so that there are, as it were, five occultations in one to be observed. During the recent occultation of Jupiter, a large number of excellent observations were recorded. From among the trustworthy observers, Messrs. W. R. Grove, Dawes, Hartnup, and J. Watson, Dr. Mann, and Lord Wrottesley agreed in the positive statement that there was no perceptible alteration of the planet's figure, or distortion of outline, while the planetary image was in apparent contact with the moon, and under good optical definition. Mr. William Simms and Mr. Lassel, on the other hand, described the curved outline of the planet as appearing to be flattened, or bent outward toward the moon's limb. Mr. Lassel's observation, however, affords a suggestion for the ready explanation of this discrepancy. This gentleman noted distortion as the planet went behind the moon, but dis Although, upon this occasion, the grave and majestic Olympian star was caught at disadvantage by the nimble luminary of the silver horns, he did not lose his ordinary self-possession; his placid temperament proved to be fully equal to the emergency. Having remained quietly in concealment for about sixty minutes, he glided calmly out from behind the screen which had been interposed between him and his terrestrial friends, and as he did so, adroitly turned the tables upon the moon, by giving a sly hint or two concerning certain secrets which it was her intention to have held in reserve from her curious neighbors here below. The readers of Chambers's Journal, trained as they have been to like the bonbons of science, will be glad to hear how the astute Jovian star contrived to retaliate upon the sprightly night-queen, by throw-tinctly states that there was none as it ing light upon her obscurities, in return for the temporary obscuration he suffered at her horns. During the recent occultation of the planet Jupiter, one half of the civilized territory of the earth was fairly bristling with telescopes turned toward the edge of the moon. An occultation of any of the larger planets is always an occurrence of surpassing interest to astronomers, because the clear, well-defined images which they present in good telescopes, are pictures of such exquisite delicacy, that they afford a very severe test of the condition of the lunar surface as to the presence or absence of gaseous or vaporous investment, when that surface is seen in front came out from concealment; and further remarks, that the air was very unsettled, and vision very unsteady at the commencement, but the definition was much more even and satisfactory at the conclusion of the occultation. Mr. William Simms also says that the atmosphere at Carshalton, where his observation was made, was very unsteady. In all probability, the distortion of the planet's figure, noticed by these observers, was due to the unfavorable state of the earth's own atmosphere at their stations, causing the image of the planet to tremble and undulate while under inspection. Mr. Hartnup and Dr. Mann noticed that the line-like segment of the planet's disc was broken up into three or four beads of light, just before it finally disappeared behind the moon. This result was due to small projections of the moon's border then crossing the streak of light in some places, while portions of the streak were still visible at indentations of the lunar edge in others. Mr. Hartnup saw the third satellite of the planet shining in the midst of a large indentation of this kind for a second or two, and looking as if within the circumference of the lunar face. Professor Challis, employing the great Northumberland refractor at Cambridge, noticed that the moon's dark limb, as it swept in front of the bright planetary surface, was distinctly jagged and zigzagged by valleys and mountain-peaks. As the planet slipped out from behind the bright side of the half-illumined sixday-old moon, the different characters of the planetary and lunar light were strikingly apparent. The planet's face was about as pale again as the moon's, and seemed to most of the observers watching it, to wear, as compared with the moon's aspect, a soft greenish hue. Mr. Lassel was of opinion that the planetary faintness was mainly the result of the relatively large brilliant surface the moon presented in such close proximity; he believed that there would not have seemed any thing like so marked a difference of intensity, if the planet had been contemplated in contact with a piece of the moon, having dimensions not larger than itself. But the most interesting fact yet remains to be told. The bright border of the moon at this time crossed the soft green face of the planet, not with a clear sharply cut outline like that which had been presented as the disc passed into concealment; it was fringed by a streak or band of graduated shadow, commencing at the moon's edge as a deep black line, and being then stippled off outwardly until it dissolved away in the green light of the planet's face. This shadeband was about the tenth part of the planet's disc broad, and of equal breadth from end to end. Mr. Lassel described it as offering to his practiced eye precisely the same appearance that the obscure ring of Saturn presents to a higher magnifying power, where that appendage crosses in front of the body of the Saturnian sphere. There could be no mistake concerning the actual existence of this curious and unexpected apparition. It was independently noticed and described by at least six trustworthy observers, and the descriptions of it given by each of these corresponded with the minutest accuracy. The shadow was seen and described by Mr. Lassell, at Liverpool; by the Rev. Professor Challis, at the Observatory of Cambridge; by the Rev. W. R. Dawes, at Wateringbury; by Dr. Mann and Captain Swinburne, R. N., at Ventnor ; and by Mr. William Simms, at Carshalton. It therefore only needs that the unusual presence should be accounted for: the handwriting being there, the question remains to be answered: "Can its interpretation be found?" Can science read the meaning of this shadow-fringe inscription? Are there minds that can fathom, as well as eyes that could catch, this signal-hint thrown out by Jupiter at the instant of its emergence from its forced concealment behind the moon? It was Mr. Dawes's impression on the instant, that the mysterious shadow was simply an optical spectrum-a deep blue fringe to the light maze caused by the object-glass of his telescope having been accidentally over-corrected for one of the irregularities incident to chromatic refraction. This notion, of course, became altogether untenable so soon as it was known that the same appearance had been noted by other telescopes, in which the same incidental imperfection had no place. All felt that the shadow could not be referred to a regular atmospheric investment of the moon's solid sphere, because under such circumstances the streak should have been always seen when the rim of the moon rested in a similar way across a planetary disc. The sagacious Plumian professor of astronomy at Cambridge, Professor Challis, seems to have been the first to hit upon the true interpretation of the riddle. This indefatig able star-seer has long suspected that the broad dark patches of the lunar surfacethe seas of the old selenographists-are really shallow basins filled by a sediment of vapor which has settled down into those depressions; in other words, he conceives that there are FOG-SEAS, although there are no WATER-SEAS, in the moon. The general surface and higher projections of the lunar spheroid are altogether uncovered and bare; but vapors and mists have rolled down into the lower regions in sufficient quantity to fill up their basin-like hollows, exactly as water has gravitated into the beds of the terrestrial oceans. The professor, using the high powers of the magnificent telescope furnished to the Cambridge Observatory by the munificence of the late Duke of Northumberland, was able to satisfy himself that the planet actually did come out from behind a widely gaping hollow of the moon's surface at the bottom of a lunar fog-sea, seen edgeways, so to speak. If a shallow basin extended for some distance round the curvature of the lunar spheroid, and if it were filled up with vapor, that vapor would rest at fixed level, exactly after the manner of a collection of liquid, and such fixed level would be concentric with the general spheroidal curvature of the satellite. Under such an arrangement, there would therefore necessarily be a bulging protuberance of the vapor-surface, through which a remote luminary might be seen, when it rested in the requisite position. This, then, is Professor Challis's understanding of Jupiter's hint. The moon has fog-seas, upon her surface, and the band of shadow visible upon the face of Jupiter as the planet came out from behind the earth's satellite, was a thin upper slice of one of those fog-seas seen by the favorable accident of the planet's light shining for the instant from beyond. Destiny was, upon this occasion, propitious to the phalanx of terrestrial observers standing so resolutely and patiently to their telescopes, and brought the planet, which had gone into occultation at a spot where there was high and rough ground, out at a point where the moon's limb was smooth, and depressed below the general level. It is, of course, only when occulted luminaries pass behind such depressed localities, that these shade-bands ought to present themselves, if Professor Challis's shrewd interpretation be a reading of the truth. No ON MOUNT SINAI.-In about an hourable hindrances, and more than once my and a half from the time we left the con- tables of the law were on the point of bevent, we reached the top, the "gray top" ing torn in pieces and carried away, but I of Sinai, for while the great body of the accomplished my purpose. It was intermountain is of red granite, this is of gray. esting at the time; nor is it less so in reWhether from decay or the peculiarity of collection. The day was not clear; mists the original formation, I do not know, the were rising in the horizon, so that we did. granite appeared laminated on the top, so not see afar off. But we saw the "great that we were able to split off some slices and terrible wilderness" around us, and with the help of our hammers, of perhaps it was a vision of more utter barrenness an inch in thickness. With these exfoli- and desolation than we had ever seen or ated fragments we filled our bags or pock- fancied. No soft feature in the landscape ets, thinking it worth while to carry home to mitigate the unbroken horror. with us specimens of that mountain which green spot, no tree, no flower, no rill, no "burned with fire," and on which Jeho- lake-but dark brown ridges, red peaks, vah himself descended. The wind was like pyramids of solid fire. No rounded strong and the air cold, so we took shel- hillocks or soft mountain curves, such as ter under part of the low wall at the en- one sees even in the ruggedest of home trance to one of the chapels. While the scenes - but monstrous and misshapen monk who was with us was striking a cliffs, rising tier above tier, and surmountlight and preparing coffee, we were gaz-ed here and there by some spire-like suming on the scene, and writing a few short mit-serrated for miles into ragged granletters to friends, dated "the top of Si- deur, and grooved from head to foot by nai." I had taken with me the "ten the winter torrents that had swept down commandments" in the original, on a like bursting water-spouts, tearing their large sheet, and, spreading it out, I read naked loins, and cutting into the very over the law, upon the summit of that veins and sinews of the fiery rock." The mountain where it had been given three Desert of Sinai: Notes of a Spring Jourthousand five hundred years before. The ney from Cairo to Beersheba." By Hocold and the driving wind were consider-ratius Bonar, D.D.-Leisure Hour. |