POETRY.-Regiment through the Highlands, 114. Way we went to Beaufort, 114. On board the Cumberland, 140. Missing, 141. Monadnock from Wachuset, 160. Distractions in Prayer, 160. Mystery of Chastisement, 160. SHORT ARTICLES.-Trial of the Princess of Wales, 132. Church Founded on Bullhides, 139. Legends of the Wandering Jew, 139. Quotations Wanted, 153. The "Danville Review" again, 155. Hampshire Mummers, 159. NEW BOOKS. THE CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD. Littell, Son, & Co., Boston. Price, 25 cents. This work is understood to be by the author of Adam Bede. In 934, 935, and 936, we shall begin and complete "The Woman I Loved, and The Woman who Loved me." PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY LITTELL, SON, & CO., BOSTON. For Six Dollars a year, in advance, remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctually forwarded free of postage. Complete sets of the First Series, in thirty-six volumes, and of the Second Series, in twenty volumes, handBomely bound, packed in neat boxes, and delivered in all the principal cities, free of expense of freight, are for sale at two dollars a volume. ANY VOLUME may be had separately, at two dollars, bound, or a dollar and a half in numbers. ANY NUMBER may be had for 13 cents; and it is well worth while for subscribers or purchasers to complete any broken volumes they may have, and thus greatly enhance their value. THE STEAMER CONNECTICUT Carrying a Regiment through the Highlands. BY "A. L." Down through our bright monntain passes And the measured notes of the drum, As onward the volunteers come. So nearer, and ever nearer, And we gather around the door, And prospects and hopes laid down; See where, on their mighty transport, A vision of blue hides the steamer, Deep hid in the woods on each side? They know that the hills are in glory, They can see how the blue waters roll,Do they feel the low prayers ascending From the depth of each woman's soul? Do they know how the hearts are throbbing, Ah me: I am only a woman,- But hark! how the men are cheering, And once more the echoes waken, As the blue-coats answer back,- THE WAY WE WENT TO BEAUFORT. With a feeling of brooding mystery; The man at the helm, nothing knew he, On that morn of radiant beauty; One thought alone each man of us knew- Not a breath of wherefore or why was heard, But a spirit of inspiring trust Filled each man's breast, as it always must, And thus we went-the hurricane's breath But brave Dupont and Sherman knew The mystery was all compassed then, And our shells flew fast and steady. And then we sailed to the beautiful town, And the breezes of heaven seemed to play A thrill pervaded the loyal land, The clouds of gloom and doubt dispersed, -Boston Saturday Gazette, Nov. 16. PART II.-CHAPTER IV. table, with its red-and-blue cover and the faces appearing about it, constituted the entire scene. Mr. Vincent stood uneasily at a corner when he was brought into the apartment, and distinctly placed himself at table, as if at a meal, when he sat down. "Do you now take off your great-coat, and make yourself comfortable," said Mrs. Tozer ; "there's a bit of supper coming A party is very well in its way, Mr. Vincent, sir; but when a gen'leman comes in familiar, and takes us just as we are, that's what I like. We never can be took wrong of an evening, Tozer and me; there's always a bit of something comfortable for supper; and after the shop's shut in them long evenings, time's free. Phoebe, make haste and take off your things. What a color you've got, to be sure, with the night air! I declare, thing to her, or she'd never look so bright." AFTER the remarkable encounter which had thus happened to the young minister, life went on with him in the dullest routine for some days. Thursday came, and he had to go to Mrs. Brown's tea-party, where in the drawing-room up-stairs, over the Devonshire Dairy, after tea, and music, and the diversions of the evening, he conducted prayers to the great secret satisfaction of presently. This is just what I like, is this. the hostess, who felt that the superior piety of her entertainment entirely made up for any little advantage in point of gentility which Mrs. Tozer, with a grown-up daughter fresh from a boarding-school, might have over her. On Friday evening there was the singing-class at the chapel, which Mr. Vincent was expected to look in upon, and from which he had the privilege of walking home with Miss Tozer. When he arrived with his blooming charge at the private door, the ex-pa, somebody must have been saying someistence of which he had not hitherto been aware of, Tozer himself appeared to invite "I dare say there's more things than music the young pastor to enter. This time it was gets talked of at the singing," said Tozer, the butterman's unadorned domestic hearth thus appealed to. "But she'd do a deal to which Mr. Vincent was introduced. This better if she'd try to improve her mind than happy privacy was in a little parlor, which, take notice what the young fellows says." being on the same floor with the butter- "O pa, the idea! and before Mr. Vinshop, naturally was not without a reminiscent too," cried Phœbe" to think I should cence of the near vicinity of all those hams and cheeses-a room nearly blocked up by the large family-table, at which, to the disgust of Phoebe, the apprentices sat at mealtimes along with the family. One little boy, distinguished out of doors by a red worsted comforter,was, besides Phoebe, the only member of the family itself now at home; the others being two sons, one in Australia, and the other studying for a minister, as Mrs. Tozer had already informed her pastor, with motherly pride. Mrs. Tozer sat in an easy-chair by the fire darning stockings on this October night; her husband, opposite to her, had been looking over his greasy books, one of which lay open upon a little writingdesk, where a bundle of smaller ones in red leather, with "Tozer, cheesemonger," stamped on them in gilt letters, lay waiting Phoebe's arrival to be made up. The Benjamin of the house sat half-way down the long table with his slate working at his lessons. The margin of space round this long table scarcely counted in the aspect of the room. There was space enough for chairs to be set round it, and that was all: the ever dream of listening to anything that anybody might choose to say!" Vincent, to whom the eyes of the whole family turned, grinned a feeble smile, but, groaning in his mind, was totally unequal to the effort of saying anything. After a moment's pause of half-disappointed expectation, Phœbe disappeared to take off her bonnet; and Mrs. Tozer, bestirring herself, cleared away the desk and books, and went into the kitchen to inquire into the supper. The minister and the deacon were accordingly left alone. "Three more pews applied for this week -fifteen sittings in all," said Mr. Tozer; "that's what I call satisfactory, that is. We mustn't let the steam go down-not on no account. You keep well at them of Sundays, Mr. Vincent, and trust to the managers, sir, to keep 'em up to their dooty. Me and Mr. Tufton was consulting the other day. He says as we oughtn't to spare you, and you oughtn't to spare yourself. There hasn't been such a opening not in our connection for fifteen year. We all look to you to go into it, Mr. Vincent. If all goes as I expect, and you keep up as you're doing, I | Mr. Tozer paused with a "humph!" of see no reason why we shouldn't be able to uncertainty; rather dazzled with the fine put another fifty to the salary next year." "Oh!" said poor Vincent, with a miserable face. He had been rather pleased to hear about the "opening," but this matterof-fact encouragement and stimulus threw him back into dismay and disgust. "Yes," said the deacon, "though I wouldn't advise you, as a young man settin' out in life, to calculate upon it, yet we all think it's more than likely; but if you was to ask my advice, I'd say to give it 'em a little more plain-meaning the Church folks. It's expected of a new man. I'd touch 'em up in the State Church line, Mr. Vincent, if I was you. Give us a coorse upon the anomalies, and that sort of thing-the bishops in their palaces, and the fishermen as was the start of it all; there's a deal to be done in that way. It always tells; and my opinion is as you might secure the most part of the young men and thinkers, and them as can see what's what, if you lay it on pretty strong. Not," added the deacon, remembering in time to add that necessary salve to the conscience" not as I would have you neglect what's more important; but, after all, what is more important, Mr. Vincent, than freedom of opinion and choosing your own religious teacher? You can't put Gospel truth in a man's mind till you've freed him out of them bonds. It stands to reason -as long as he believes just what he's told, and has it all made out for him the very words he's to pray, there may be feelin', sir, but there can't be no spiritual understandin' in that man." "Well, one can't deny that there have been enlightened men in the Church of England," said the young Nonconformist, with lofty candor. "The inconsistencies of the human mind are wonderful; and it is coming to be pretty clearly understood in the intellectual world, that a man may show the most penetrating genius, and even the widest liberality, and yet be led a willing slave in the bonds of religious rite and ceremony. One cannot understand it, it is true; but in our clearer atmosphere we are bound to exercise Christian charity. Great as the advantages are on our side of the question, I would not willingly hurt the feelings of a sincere Churchman, who, for anything I know, may be the best of men." language, but doubtful of the sentiment. At length light seemed to dawn upon the excellent butterman. "Bless my soul! that's a new view," said Tozer; "that's taking the superior line over them! My impression is as that would tell beautiful. Eh! it's famous, that is! I've heard a many gentlemen attacking the Church, like, from down below, and giving it her about her money and her greatness, and all that; but our clearer atmosphere-there's the point! I always knew as you was a clever young man, Mr. Vincent, and expected a deal from you; but that's a new view, that is!" «Ο pa, dear! don't be always talking about chapel business," said Miss Phœbe, coming in. "I am sure Mr. Vincent is sick to death of Salem. I am sure his heart is in some other place now; and if you bore him always about the chapel, he'll never, never take to Carlingford. O Mr. Vincent, I am sure you know it is quite true!" "Indeed," said the young minister, with a sudden recollection, "I can vouch for my heart being in Carlingford, and nowhere else;" and as he spoke his color rose. Phoebe clapped her hands with a little semblance of confusion. "Oh, la!" cried that young lady, "that is quite as good as a confession that you have lost it, Mr. Vincent. Oh, I am so interested! I wonder who it can be!" "Hush, child; I dare say we shall know before long," said Mrs. Tozer, who had also rejoined the domestic party; "and don't you color up or look ashamed, Mr. Vincent. Take my word, it's the very best a young minister can do. To be sure, where there's a quantity of young ladies in a congregation, it sometimes makes a little dispeace; but there aint to say many to choose from in Salem." "La, mamma, how can you think it's a lady in Salem ?" cried Phœbe, in a flutter of consciousness. "O you curious thing!". cried Mrs. Tozer: "she'll never rest, Mr. Vincent, till she's found it all out. She always was, from a child, a dreadful one for finding out a secret. But don't you trouble yonrself; it's the best thing a young minister can do." Poor Vincent made a hasty effort to exculpate himself from the soft impeachment, but |