sumption by one of the characters of the favorable position in the intrigue of a foreign Count; while a serious element is introduced in the female revenge of a West Indian, who had been betrayed in her youth by the millionaire of the piece.

JOHN W. GOULD, a brother of the preceding, was born at Litchfield, Conn., Nov. 14, 1814. He was a very successful writer of tales and sketches of the sea; his fine talents having been directed to that department of literature by one or more long voyages undertaken for the benefit of his health. He died of consumption, at sea, in the twenty-fourth year of his age, Oct. 1, 1838.

His writings were originally published in detached numbers of the New York Mirror and the Knickerbocker Magazine in the years 1834-5; and after his death, in 1838, were collected in a handsome volume, containing also a biographical sketch and his private journal of the voyage on which he died. This volume was issued by his brothers for private circulation only.* The tales and sketches of the volume, under the title of Forecastle Yarns, were published by the New World press in 1843, and in a new edition by Stringer & Townsend, New York, 1854.

An unfinished story found among his papers after his death, will convey a correct impression of Mr. Gould's descriptive powers. The fragment is entitled

MAN OVERboard.

"Meet her, quartermaster!" hailed the officer of the deck; "hold on, everybody!"

Torn from my grasp upon the capstan by a mountain-wave which swept us in its power, I was borne over the lee-bulwarks; and a rope which I grasped in my passage, not being belayed, unrove in my hands, and I was buried in the sea.

"Man overboard!" rang along the decks. away the life-buoy!"

"Cut

Stunned and strangling, I rose to the surface, and instinctively struck out for the ship; while, clear above the roar of the storm and the dash of the cold, terrible sea, the loud thunder of the trumpet came full on my ear:

"Man the weather main and maintop-sail braces; slack the lee ones; round in; stand by to lower away the lee-quarter boat!"

My first plunge for the ship, whose dim outline I could scarcely perceive in the almost pitchy darkness of the night, most fortunately brought me within reach of the life-buoy grating. Climbing upon this, I used the faithless rope, still in my hand, to lash myself fast; and, thus freed from the fear of immediate drowning, I could more quietly watch and wait for rescue.

The ship was now hidden from my sight; but, being to leeward, I could with considerable distinctness make out her whereabout, and judge of the motions on board. Directly, a signal-lantern glanced at her peak; and oh! how brightly shone that solitary beam on my straining eye!-for, though rescued from immediate peril, what other succor could I look for, during that fearful swell, on which no boat could live a moment? What could I expect save a lingering, horrid death?

John W. Gould's Private Journal of a Voyage from New York to Rio Janeiro: together with a brief sketch of his life, aud his Occasional Writings, edited by his brothers. Brinted for private circulation only. New York. 1839. 8vo. pp. 207.

Within a cable's length, lay my floating home, where, ten minutes before, not a lighter heart than mine was inclosed by her frowning bulwarks; and, though so near that I could hear the rattling of her cordage and the rustling thunder of her canvas, I could also hear those orders from her trumpet which extinguished hope.

"Belay all with that boat!" said a voice that I knew right well; "she can't live a minute!"

My heart died within me, and I closed my eyes in despair. Next fell upon my ear the rapid notes of the drum beating to quarters, with all the clash, and tramp, and roar of a night alarm; while I could also faintly hear the mustering of the divisions, which was done to ascertain who was missing. Then came the hissing of a rocket, which, bright and clear, soared to heaven; and again falling, its momentary glare was quenched in the waves.

Drifting from the ship, the hum died away: but seee-that sheet of flame!-the thunder of a gun boomed over the stormy sea. Now the blaze of a blue-light illumines the darkness, revealing the tall spars and white canvass of the ship, still near me! came the hail again, “do you

"Maintop there!" see him to leeward?"

"No, sir!" was the chill reply.

The ship now remained stationary, with her light aloft; but I could perceive nothing more for some minutes; they have given me up for lost.

That I could see the ship, those on board well knew, provided I had gained the buoy: but their object was to discover me, and now several bluelights were burned at once on various parts of the rigging. How plainly could I see her rolling in the swell!-at one moment engulfed, and in the next rising clear above the wave, her bright masts and white sails glancing, the mirror of hope, in this fearful illumination; while I, covered with the breaking surge, was tossed wildly about, now on the crest, now in the trough of the sea.

"There he is, Sir! right abeam!" shouted twenty voices, as I rose upon a wave.

Man the braces!" was the quick, clear, and joyous reply of the trumpet: while, to cheer the forlorn heart of the drowning seaman, the martial tones of the bugle rung out, "Boarders, away!" and the shrill call of the boatswain piped, "Haul taut and belay!" and the noble ship, blazing with light, fell off before the wind.

A new danger now awaited me; for the immense hull of the sloop-of-war came plunging around, bearing directly down upon me; while her increased proximity enabled me to discern all the minutiae of the ship, and even to recognise the face of the first lieutenant, as, trumpet in hand, he stood on the forecastle.

Nearer yet she came, while I could move only as the wave tossed me; and now, the end of her flyingjib-boom is almost over my head!

“Hard a-port!” hailed the trumpet at this critical moment; "round in weather main-braces; right the helm!"

The spray from the bows of the ship, as she came up, dashed over me, and the increased swell buried me for an instant under a mountain-wave; emerging from which, there lay my ship, hove-to, not her length to windward!

66

Garnet," hailed the lieutenant from the leegangway, "are you there, my lad?"

Ay, ay, Sir!" I shouted in reply; though I doubted whether, in the storm, the response could reach him; but the thunder-toned cheering which, despite the discipline of a man-of-war, now rung from the decks and rigging, put that fear at rest,

Litchfield in that state May 11, 1808. As a writer of Tales and Sketches,he was one of the early contributors to the Knickerbocker Magazine, and has since frequently employed his pen in the newspaper and periodical literature of the times; in Mr. Charles King's American in its latter days, where his signature of "Cassio" was well known; in the New World, the Mirror, the Literary World, and other journals. In 1836, he delivered a lecture before the Mercantile Library Association of New York, "American Criticism on American Literature," in which he opposed the prevalent spirit of ultra-laudation as injurious to the interests of the country. In 1839, he published a translation of Dumas's travels in Egypt and Arabia Petræa; in 1841, the Progress of Democracy by the same author; and in 1842-3, he published through the enterprising New World press, Translations of Dumas's Impressions of Travel in Switzerland; Balzac's Eugenie Grandet and Father Goriot; Victor Hugo's Handsome Pecopin and A. Royer's Charles de Bourbon.

In 1843, he also published The Sleep Rider, or the Old Boy in the Omnibus, by the Man in th Claret-Colored Coat; a designation which gr out of an incident at the City Arsenal during exciting election times of 1834. A riot oce in the sixth ward, which the police failed" press, and certain citizens volunteered t down. They took forcible possession oʻ senal and supplied themselves with a the opposition of Gen. Arcularius, Gen. A. made a notable report of the legislature, in which an unkn in a claret-colored coat was the term, the man in the claret-co' diately became a by-word. Mr Mirror a parody on the repor from the celebrated "Man in great hit in literary circles clever book of Sketches colloquial Essays, prefashion of Sterne.

sibility than any other man.
invent his plot-a task whic
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is no trifle. Then, he mus

of characters for whose p
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diciously; he must r
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a pig, as Lost happy his fortune. standing near keeps bobbing superb piece of reat pity it should but I'll give another an it should go for ider is probably some noome honest Johnny Raw, a what he understands, but sard of Peter Funk. Seeing nd respectable a looking man, piece of goods and praising it ap naturally thinks it must be a great e is determined to have it, let it cost The result is, that he gives fifty per for the article than it is worth; and the r and Peter Funk are ready to burst with r at the prodigious gull they have made of or countryman.

y thus running up goods, Peter is of great serce to the auctioneers, though he never pays them a cent of money. Indeed it is not his intention to purchase, nor is it that of the auctioneer that he should. Goods nevertheless are frequently struck off to him; and then the salesman cries out the name of Mr. Sinith, Mr. Johnson, or some other among the hundred aliases of Peter Funk, as the purchaser. But the goods, on such occasions, are always taken back by the auctioneer, agreeably to a secret understanding between him and Peter.

In a word, Peter Funk is the great under-bidder at all the auctions, and might with no little propriety be styled the under-bidder general. But this sort of characters are both unlawful and unpopular-not to say odious-and hence it becomes necessary for Peter Funk, alias the under-bidder, to have so many aliases to his name, in order that he may not be detected in the underhanded practice of underbidding.

To avoid detection, however, he sometimes resorts to other tricks, among which one is, to act the part of a ventriloquist, and appear to be several different persons, bidding in different places. He has the knack of changing his voice at will, and counterfeiting that of sundry well-known persons; so that goods are sometimes knocked off to gentlemen who have never opened their mouths.

But a very common trick of Peter's, is, to conceal himself in the cellar, from whence, through a convenient hole near the auctioneer, his voice is heard bidding for goods; and nobody, but those in the secret, know from whence the sound pro

ceeds. This is acting the part of Peter Funk in the cellar.

But Peter, for the most part, is fond of being scen shape or other; and it matters little what, can aid his employers in carrying on a Reception. He will figure in the shape le, or package of goods; he will ap ty different places, at the same time, on of a jobber-sometimes representing a in of English, French, or other goods-but a mere shadow, and nothing else-a phana-a show without the substance. In this manner was, that he often figured in the service of Smirk, Quirk & Co.; and while people were astonished at the prodigious quantity of goods they had in their store, two thirds at least of the show was owing to Peter Funk.

WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER.

WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER, one of the lea ling writers of the West, was born at Philadelphia in 1808. His father was a native of Ireland, who emigrated to this country after the failure of the Rebellion of 1798, in which he had taken a prominent part on the popular side.

After his death his widow, removed in 1816 to Ohio, and settled at Cincinnati, where the son became a printer. As with many others of the same craft, the setting of type was after a while exchanged for the production of "copy." Mr. Gallagher became editor of a literary periodical, the Cincinnati Mirror, which he continued for some time, contributing to its pages from his own pen a number of prose tales and The poems, which attracted much attention. enterprise, as is usually the case with pioneer literary efforts, was pecuniarily unsuccessful. During a portion of its career, Mr. Gallagher also edited the Western Literary Journal, published at Cincinnati, a work which closed a brief existence in 1836. He has since been connected with the Hesperian, a publication of a similar character, and of a similarly brief duration.

The first production of Mr. Gallagher which attracted general public attention was a poem published anonymously in one of the periodicals, entitled The Wreck of the Hornet. This was reprinted in the first collection of his poems, published in a thin volume in 1835, entitled Errato. The chief poem of this collection is the Penitent, a Metrical Tale.

A second part of Errato appeared in the fall of 1835. It opens with The Conqueror, a poem of six hundred and sixty lines on Napoleon. The third and concluding number of the series appeared in 1837, and contained a narrative poem entitled Cadwallen, the incidents of which are drawn from the Indian conflicts of our frontier history.

The chief portions of Errato are occupied by a number of poems of description and reflection, with a few lyrical pieces interspersed, all of which possess melody, and have won a favorable reception throughout the country.

In 1841 Mr. Gallagher edited a volume entitled Selections from the Poetical Literature of the West, a work peculiarly appropriate for one who had done so much by his labors in behalf of literature, as well as his own contributions to the common stock, to foster and honor the necessarily arduous pursuit of literature in a new country.

and my heart bounded with rapture in the joyous hope of a speedy rescue.

All ready" hailed the lieutenant again: "heave!" and four ropes, with small floats attached, were thrown from the ship and fell around me. None, however, actually touched me; and for this reason the experiment failed; for I could not move my unwieldy grating, and dared not leave it; as by so doing, I might in that fearful swell miss the rope, be unable to regain my present position, and drown between the two chances of escape.

I was so near to the ship that I could recognise the faces of the crew on her illuminated deck, and hear the officers as they told me where the ropes lay; but the fearful alternative I have mentioned, caused me to hesitate, rntil I, being so much lighter than the vessel, found myself fast drifting to leeward. I then resolved to make the attempt, but as I measured the distance of the nearest float with my eye, my resolution again faltered, and the precious and final opportunity was lost! Now, too, the storm which, as if in compassion, had temporarily lulled, roared again in full fury; and the safety of the ship required that she should be put upon her

course.

ASA GREENE.

ASA GREENE was a physician of New England, who came to New York about 1830, and finally established himself as a bookseller in Beekman street. He was the author of The Travels of ExBarber Fribbleton, a satire on Fidler and other scribbling English tourists; The Life and Adventures of Dr. Dodimus Duckworth, A.N.Q., to which is added the History of a Steam Doctor, a semimock-heroic biography of a spoiled child, who grows up to be an awkward clowr, ut is gradually rounded off into a country practitioner of repute. The incidents of the story are slight, and the whole is in the style of the broadest farce, but possesses genuine humor. This appeared in 1833. In 1834 he published The Perils of Pearl Street, including a Taste of the Dangers of Wall Street, by a Late Merchant, a narrative of the fortunes or misfortunes of a country lad, who comes to New York in search of wealth, obtains a clerkship, next becomes a dealer on his own account, fails, and after a few desperate shifts, settles down as a professor of book-keeping, and, by the venture of the volume before us, of book-making.

The Perils of Pearl street is in a quieter tone than Dodimus Duckworth, but shares in its humor. Peter Funks and drumming, shinning and speculations, with the skin-flint operations of boarding-house keepers, are its chief topics. Greene was also the author of another volume, A Glance at New York, which bears his imprint as publisher in 1837, and was for some time editor of the Evening Transcript, a pleasant daily paper of New York. He was found dead in his store one morning in the year 1837.

PETER FUNK.

The firm of Smirk, Quirk & Co. affected a great parade and bustle in the way of business. They employed a large number of clerks, whom they boarded at the different hotels, for the convenience of drumming; besides each member of the firm boarding in like manner, and for a similar purpose. They had an immense pile of large boxes, such as

are used for packing dry-goods, constantly before their door, blocking up the side-walk so that it was nearly impossible to pass. They advertised largely in several of the daily papers, and made many persons believe, what they boasted themselves, that they sold more dry-goods than any house in the city.

But those who were behind the curtain, knew better. They knew there was a great deal of vain boast and empty show. They knew that Peter Funk was much employed about the premises, and putting the best possible face upon every thing.

By the by, speaking of PETER FUNK, I must give a short history of that distinguished personage. When, or where, he was born, I cannot pretend to say. Neither do I know who were his parents, or what was his bringing up. He might have been the child of thirty-six fathers for aught I know; and instead of being brought up, have, as the vulgar saying is, come up himself.

One thing is certain, he has been known among merchants time out of mind; and though he is despised and hated by some, he is much employed and cherished by others. He is a little, bustling, active, smiling, bowing, scraping, quizzical fellow, in a powdered wig, London-brown coat, drab kerseymere breeches, and black silk stockings.

This is the standing portrait of Peter Funk,—if a being, who changes his figure every day, every hour, and perhaps every minute, may be said to have any sort of fixed or regular form. The truth is, Peter Funk is a very Proteus; and those who behold him in one shape to-day, may, if they will watch his transformations, behold him in a hundred different forms on the morrow. Indeed there is no calculating, from his present appearance, in what shape he will be likely to figure next. He changes at will, to suit the wishes of his employers.

His mind is as flexible as his person. He has no scruples of conscience. He is ready to be employed in all manner of deceit and deviltry; and he cares not who his employers are, if they only give him plenty of business. In short, he is the most active, industrious, accommodating, dishonest, unprincipled, convenient little varlet that ever lived.

Besides all the various qualities I have mentioned, Peter Funk seems to be endowed with ubiquity-or at least with the faculty of being present in more places than one at the same time. If it were not so, how could he serve so many masters at once? How could he be seen in one part of Pearl street buying goods at auction; in another part, standing at the door with a quill behind each ear; and in a third, figuring in the shape of a box of goods, or cooped up on the shelf, making a show of merchandise where all was emptiness behind?

With this account of Peter Funk, my readers have perhaps, by this time, gathered some idea of his character. If not, I must inform them that he is the very imp of deception; that his sole occupation is to deceive; and that he is only employed for that purpose. Indeed, such being his known character in the mercantile community, his name is sometimes used figuratively to signify any thing which is enployed for the purpose of deception—or as the sharp ones say, to gull the flats.

Such being the various and accommodating character of Peter Funk, it is not at all surprising that his services should be in great demand. Accordingly he is very much employed in Pearl street, sometimes under one name, and sometimes under another-for I should have mentioned, as a part of his character, that he is exceedingly apt to change names, and has as many aliases as the most expert rogue in Bridewell or the Court of Sessions. Sometimes he takes

the name of John Smith, sometimes James Smith, and sometimes simply Mr. Smith. At other times he is called Roger Brown, Simon White, Bob Johnson, or Tommy Thompson. In short, he has an endless variety of names, under which he passes before the world for so many different persons. The initiated only know, and every body else is gulled.

Peter Funk is a great hand at auctions. He is constantly present, bidding up the goods as though he was determined to buy everything before him. He is well known for bidding higher than any body else; or at all events running up an article to the very highest notch, though he finally lets the opposing bidder take it, merely, as he says, to accommodate him-or, not particularly wanting the article himself, he professes to have bid upon it solely because he thought it, a great pity so fine a piece of goods should go so very far beneath its value.

It is no uncommon thing to see the little fellow attending an auction in his powdered wig, his brown coat, his drab kerseys, as fat as a pig, as sleek as a mole, and smiling with the most happy countenance, as if he were about to make his fortune. It is no uncommon thing, to see him standing near the auctioneer, and exclaiming, as he keeps bobbing his head in token of bidding-"A superb piece of goods! a fine piece of goods! great pity it should go so cheap-I don't want it, but I'll give another twenty-five cents, rather than it should go for nothing." The opposite bidder is probably some novice from the country-some honest Johnny Raw, who is shrewd enough in what he understands, but has never in his life heard of Peter Funk. Seeing so very knowing and respectable a looking man, bidding upon the piece of goods and praising it ap at every nod, he naturally thinks it must be a great bargain, and he is determined to have it, let it cost what it will. The result is, that he gives fifty per cent. more for the article than it is worth; and the auctioneer and Peter Funk are ready to burst with laughter at the prodigious gull they have made of the poor countryman.

By thus running up goods, Peter is of great service to the auctioneers, though he never pays them a cent of money. Indeed it is not his intention to purchase, nor is it that of the auctioneer that he should. Goods nevertheless are frequently struck off to him; and then the salesman cries out the name of Mr. Smith, Mr. Johnson, or some other among the hundred aliases of Peter Funk, as the purchaser. But the goods, on such occasions, are always taken back by the auctioneer, agreeably to a secret understanding between him and Peter.

In a word, Peter Funk is the great under-bidder at all the auctions, and might with no little propriety be styled the under-bidder general. But this sort of characters are both unlawful and unpopular-not to say odious-and hence it becomes necessary for Peter Funk, alias the under-bidder, to have so many aliases to his name, in order that he may not be detected in the underhanded practice of underbidding.

To avoid detection, however, he sometimes resorts to other tricks, among which one is, to act the part of a ventriloquist, and appear to be several different persons, bidding in different places. He has the knack of changing his voice at will, and counterfeiting that of sundry well-known persons; so that goods are sometimes knocked off to gentlemen who have never opened their mouths.

But a very common trick of Peter's, is, to conceal himself in the cellar, from whence, through a convenient hole near the auctioneer, his voice is heard bidding for goods; and nobody, but those in the secret, know from whence the sound pro

But Peter, for the most part, is fond of being sce: in some shape or other; and it matters little what, so that he can aid his employers in carrying on a system of deception. He will figure in the shape of a box, bale, or package of goods; he will appear in twenty different places, at the same time, on the shelf of a jobber-sometimes representing a specimen of English, French, or other goods-but being a mere shadow, and nothing else-a phantasma-a show without the substance. In this manner it was, that he often figured in the service of Smirk, Quirk & Co.; and while people were astonished at the prodigious quantity of goods they had in their store, two thirds at least of the show was owing to Peter Funk.

WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER.

WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER, one of the lea ling writers of the West, was born at Philadelphia in 1808. His father was a native of Ireland, who emigrated to this country after the failure of the Rebellion of 1798, in which he had taken a prominent part on the popular side.

After his death his widow, removed in 1816 to Ohio, and settled at Cincinnati, where the son became a printer. As with many others of the same craft, the setting of type was after a while exchanged for the production of "copy." Mr. Gallagher became editor of a literary periodical, the Cincinnati Mirror, which he continued for some time, contributing to its pages from his own pen a number of prose tales and poems, which attracted much attention. The enterprise, as is usually the case with pioneer literary efforts, was pecuniarily unsuccessful. During a portion of its career, Mr. Gallagher also edited the Western Literary Journal, published at Cincinnati, a work which closed a brief existence in 1836. He has since been connected with the Hesperian, a publication of a similar character, and of a similarly brief duration.

The first production of Mr. Gallagher which attracted general public attention was a poem published anonymously in one of the periodicals, entitled The Wreck of the Hornet. This was reprinted in the first collection of his poems, published in a thin volume in 1835, entitled Errato. The chief poem of this collection is the Penitent, a Metrical Tale.

A second part of Errato appeared in the fall of 1835. It opens with The Conqueror, a poem of six hundred and sixty lines on Napoleon. The third and concluding number of the series appeared in 1837, and contained a narrative poem entitled Cadwallen, the incidents of which are drawn from the Indian conflicts of our frontier history.

The chief portions of Errato are occupied by a number of poems of description and reflection, with a few lyrical pieces interspersed, all of which possess melody, and have won a favorable reception throughout the country.

In 1841 Mr. Gallagher edited a volume entitled Selections from the Poetical Literature of the West, a work peculiarly appropriate for one who had done so much by his labors in behalf of literature, as well as his own contributions to the common stock, to foster and honor the necessarily arduous pursuit of literature in a new country.