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THE HERALD, WEDNESDAY, JAN. 22, 1868.

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REMEMBER. Till-2 POOR.

Remember tho poor, for bleak winds are blowing,

And brightly the frost-pearls aro glist'nlng around. The stroomlets have ceased a‘i their musical flowing,

snow drifts lle scattered all over the ground.

Mncmbor the poor in their comfortlese dwellings,

Ili~olad and “Med. and o‘er burdened with care, (lb, turn not away with a look so repelling-—

Thy kindness may save them perhaps item despair.

Remember the poor when the hearth-stone is cheerful, And happy hearts gather around its bright blue; There are hearts that are nod and eyes that are tearful. As bright as thine own in thelr sunnlcr days. Hiefortaneo may scatter thy present possessions;

And plenty, to povhrty. leave thee a prey; now bitterly then wilt thou think of the blessings That Charity salts from thy riches to.duy.

Remember the poor as they thankfully gather ‘ Each round his rich table with luxury spread; Thou too art a pensioner on a rich Father, For health and for friendship, for rnlmcnt and bread If He hath been bountiful, with a like eplt‘lt, IXspeuee of that bounty what Charity claims; Far greater the treason: thy sotti shall inlterlt When thy bread on the waters returnctb again.

Remember the poor—this thou art commanded- Thy Saviour thus kindly remembered the poor:

“ The destitute then shall not send empty-handed, Unclud and unwnrmed. and unfed n'om thy door."

Thy peace in this life shall he like the deep river. And dying, thy welcome to heaven shall be—

" Ye faithful and blessed of my Father-«come hither; Yo did it to others—yo did it to me.”

gcicrl liltcruturr.

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[OriginaL]

_—

A BDALI.AII:

on,

'I‘he Syrian X’outlt.

Annauan, the son of a wealthy merchant in Aleppo, formed the chief delight of a delicate yet affectionate mother. Ills prepossessing manners and fascinating ways secured for him all that parental love could bestow. Thus our youth increased in years, always accustomed to the society of tender parents. Scarcely, however, had young Abdailah begun to appreciate the real value of a loving mother. when cruel death, with stern hand, severed the bond of earthly connection. He wept bitterly the dealh of so cherished a parent, and, al- thougit only in his fifth year, the kind love and in- describable affection of an attached lather seemed inadequate to soothe the heart-felt grief of the mourning child.

Time passed, and. with its magic balsam, ap- peared to succed in healing the wound so deeply in- flicted on young Abdallah’s heart. He re-acquired his livelinoss of disposition, indulged freely in the innocent pastimes of youth, and, on his return from school, every evening, never failed to acquaint his delighted father with his success in his classes. And, in fact, with reason could he beast, in childish turns, of his superiority ever his fellow-school- mates: for, endowed with a great amount of natur- al talent, and an extraordinary facility for the ac- quisition of languages, with little 'applicalion he easily ant-passed those who contended with him for the honor of ascendancy,

Here it was that our youth, by his singular, pro- gress in the Chaldean, Syrian and Arabic languages, attracted the attention of a Spanish gentleman who then resided in the city of Aleppo. Don Juan, for such was hie name, delighted with the beauty of person and the superior education of Abdallah, loot no time in proposing to his father to send him to Paris for the purpose of completing his studies. The father was easily persuaded, for he had already for some time fostered the same idea, without, how- ever, communicating it to mortal ear, but hesitated in bringing it into execution, on account of the many dangers to which his door son should be ex- posed during so long and perilous a voyage. .

One evening, as our youth returned from school, the affectionate lather having satisfied himself with the singular advances made by his son, especially in the acquiring of languages, suggested to him the propriety of travelling for the completion of an ed. ucation commenced under such happy auspices. His eyes brightened up, his heart leaped with Joy at the unexpected proposal, as he then saw a we open which would screen him from the surly loo and unpleasant society of an ill-disposed step- mother. I’reparatloue were immediately made, and. after taking a hurried leave of his relations, Abdallnh, than a youth of seventeen, set out for the grand metropolis of France. ,

chcely, however, had he arrived at Mosaics, when troubles began to mar the pleasures he was enjoying. He had the difficulties of a foreign lan- guage to contend with; he had no one to whom he might confidentially look for assistance. or on whom he might make so free as to explain his perplexitlss. The companions he left behind, the customs of his native city, contrasting so strongly with those he now witnessed, the idea of being for some years so-

rotod from the joys and pleasures of the world, and the thought of a total abnegation of the will to the de- .in of foreign superiors, tended, in no small degree, to road. our youth quite melancholy. A glance at him, and one would be convinced that his mind was then the seat of distracting and trying considerations. But his restriction was not to be linebod, for he can. tinned his journey, onrmounti oil obstacles, until he dually arrived at the gates M's college, whore, otter having produced his credentials, ho was ro-

» eeivod into the number of its students. He soon became quite familiar with the French language, discussion it with facility. and writing it with ones. It was then that bison-spacious became awareofthornroglftowhiehho . Anac-

loimor, a comic on the violin, be life and admiration of hiscomponiooe. Hie M t all, and the very os- ‘tlm “from his! wove eoosivod with

‘ com

are who had by

ly with their wishes when desiring to enforce disc pliue: and, in a word, made little or no pro- gress in his studies during his whole collegiate career. lleaee, previous to his departure for his native city, he was unable to procure a satisfactory certificate of good conduct. This fact formed, for a time, the subject of his meditation. How, says he, seliloquising. can I. dishonored, revisit a city where I have been so universally esteemed ? How can I receive the embraces of a lather whole food hopes in me have not been realised ? How can I bear the smile of satisfaction which will then beam on the countenance of a hated step-mother? No; if I am doomed to misfortune, unknown lands shall maltrest me, and less poignant, than, will be the pangs of misery and contempt.

Full of these resolutions, be quite the College; and, instead of returning to Aleppo, as hif superiors imagined, he directed his stops to London. Fortune there seemed to favor his rash undertaking: for. scarcely had be spent a day in this city, when he was employed by a rich gentleman to give instruc» tions in the Oriental languages to his family, pre- vious to a premeditated sojourn in the East. He soon initiated himself so thoroughly in his master's favor, that he was their constant guest. oven at table. His refined politeness and ready wit daily confirmed him in the good graces of the kind family.

At length the time for the tour was appointed. A large travelling trunk contained the apparel, while each was supplied with a neat travelling vaft'ee. Abdsllult was in high spirits. pleasingly contrasting the happiness of his present state \. ith the monotonous routine of his college career. [In shared the same table with his master and mistress, and delighted in exciting the beautiful Amelia to laughter. But it was only when they arrived in Cairo that the ser- vices of the interpreter were really appreciated. The gultural sound of the inhabitants of thone places were unintelligible to the rich Inglishman, who then was thoroughly convinced that learning is preferable to riches. Abdallah saw the perplexity of his master, and hence. grateful for past favors, made himself most useful and interesting on all oc- casions. His sincere attachment, deep interest, sn- tisfactory replies, and active management of all things, endeared him more than ever to his patrons. In their journeys, be explained all that was remark- able; conducted them to the Turkish mosques, ex- plaiusd their religious ceremonies, and distinguished

' the costume of the different nations to the great ss-

tiefaction of Mr. Knight. Their travelling now. though not so pleasant as in Europe, was neverthe- less more romantic; for partly on camels, partly in caravans, were the journeys perfortned. Many a suspicious looking Arabian caused the blood to stop in the veins of Abdaliab, as he then recalled to mind the numerous accidents he heard of to which un- protected travellers were subjected in these routes where the defiles of immense large tracts of coun- try iormed the den and refuge of reckless plun- derers and cold-blooded assassins. Without diselor ing his anxieties, be rendered the monotonous Jour- ney less fatiguing by the recital of anecdotes of his native country. Some weeks had now elapsed in passing from country to country. from town to town. In the meanwhile, the red fee, or large-

‘Ieafed turban, the heavy moustaches and loose-

llcwing Oriental robes, becoming quite familiar to them, no longer excited their admiration.

It was now a pleasant morning of October. The sun shone beautifully; the fragrance of sweet- smelling trees pervaded the air ; the warbling ofthe birds, the luxuriant herbage, large fruit trees and picturesque scenery. tended to enliven their wearied spirits, as from an elevated plain they espied the ci'y of Mecca in the distance. Winding ways reno dered the route much longer than was imagined. It was now that Abdallah became pensive and quite agitated. He appeared fatigued, and hence, sup- porting his head on the back of tlte wagon, feigned to sleep :—feigned. for he was startled to hear two swarthy-looking Arabs, in his native tongue, plot the plunder of the English gentleman and the abduc- tion of the fair Amelia, for whom, on account of her beauty, they had conceived a deadly passion. [Is lost not a word of their conversation, and con- sidered himself the instrument chosen by I’rovi- deuce to foil them in their impious attempts and rid the country of a band of robbers whose depre- dations had been for so many years so severely felt. Arrived in Mecca. he sees the importers take rooms in the hotel with his master. But he is not dis~ mayed. Under pretence of seeing the city, be ac- quaiuts the civil authorities with the circumstances connected with his journey, and informs them that the rnfllans are to put their bloody resolutions into cflect during the night. It was immediately decid- ed that they should enter in disguise whilst the sup- per tablogwss being served, and make an easy prey of their unsuspecting victims. It was accordingly done. Four military officers enter at the appointed time, and seize their victims. who were convicted on the charge of Abdallah. They were startled and looked aghast when, in the company, their already blood-stained daggers were exposed, their secret plans discovered, their resorts made known, and their treasures detected. through the vigilance of one whom they considered to be English, and totally unacquainted with their language.

Considerable time elapsed before Mr. Knight could realise his real situation. The event was so unforeseen and unexpected, that be was inclined to regard it as a dream. The idea of being subjected to the violence of rough plunderers. and of witness- in his beautiful lady and charming daughter becom- ing a prey to the merciless desires of barbarous Arabs, was, in itself, so horrifying, as to bewildcr him. A thousand and thoughts at once crowd on his agitated mind; he saw the danger which await- ed him, but scarcely could persuade himself that it was totally averted. A tremble seizes him—the blood hardly circulates through his veins—weakness ovorpowers him. A lounge received the fainting form of Mrs. Knight, while closely to Abdallah did the young terrified Amelia cling. How changed was that brightly illuminated dining-saloon i What horrifying scenes had not then taken placel The lights seemed only to glimmer for the host of wait- this time crowded in, attracted thither by the sudden events which had just oc-

curred.

At length the deadly pallor leaves the counten-

aneos of tho awe-stricken family, and in door and affectionate terms did Abdallah min to assure them of their open Abdallah considering him the caueo of his present and future h noes, imprints fond kisses on his loo large f .omhraeoshimwithailthoo‘sotioeofa parent, and places his ring on his anger. ills rais- treoooisoendoovcrodtosurpass the ox naive al- foetion of her husband towards hiss, wh lot Amalie, in her embrace, see-oi to

w deliverance. They all look t joy and love. Mr. Knight,

% r

'olooh and [ain‘tebedho Muslim fee is was saw

THE GERMAN COURIEB‘S STORY.

In ensues menus.

I took an engagement at once. with an English gen- tieman. elderly and a bachelor. to travel through my country. my Fatherland. lie was a merchant who traded with my count , and knew the language. but who had never been Kore since he was s boy—4e l jud e, some sixty care before.

Ifis name was acres, and he had a twin brother. John. also a bachelor. Between these brothers there was a great attention. They were in business together at (luodmsn‘s Fields, but they did not live together, Mr. James dwelt nri l’olsnd Street. turning out of Ox- ford Stroot. London. Mr. John resided by Epping Forest.

Mr. James and I were about to start for Germany in about a week. The exact day depended on business. Mr. John same to Poland Street-wherc I was staying in the house-to pass that week with Mr. James. But he said to his brother on the second day:

“I don't feel very well. Jamee. There‘s not much the matter with me; butI think I am a little gouty. l‘i go home and put myself under the care of my o 1‘ house-keeper, who understands my we I. I“ get quite better. I'll come back and see you be ore you go. if I don‘t feel well enough to resume my visit where I leave it off, why you will come and see me before you go

awn ."

M’r. James. of course, said he would, and the shock hands—both bands, as the always did—and h r. John ordered out his cld-fash oned chariot. and rumbled be e.

I? was on the second night after that—that is to say. the fourth in the week—when I was awoke out of my sound sleep by Mr. James coming into my bedroom in his flannel gown, with a lighted candle. He sat upon the side of my bed, and looking at me. said:

" Whilbelm. I have reason to thank I have got some strange illness upon run."

I then )crccived that there was a very unusual ex- pression n hie face.

" Whilhclm.” said he. “ I am not afraid ,or ashamed to tell you. what I might be afraid or ashamed to tell another man. You come from a sensible country, where mysterious things are inquired into. and are not settled to have been weighed or measured—or to huve been unweigbable and untncssurnblo—or in either case to have been dispelled of for all limo—ever so ntany years ago. Ihave just now seen the phantom of my brother John."

I confess that it gave me a little tingling of the care to hear it.

“I have just now seen," Mr. James repeated. looking full at me. that I might see how collected he was. " the planter of my brother John. I was sitting up ill my bed, nnble to sleep, when it came into my room in a white dress, and regarding me earnes‘Jy.

passed up to the end of the room. glanced at some

papers on my writing desk. turned, and still looking earnesth at me as it passed the bed, went out at the door. 'ow, lam not in the least mad. and am not in the least disposed to invest the phantom with any external existence of myself. i thittkit is a warning to me that I not ill, and I think I had better be bled.”

I get out ol ‘bed directly and begun to get on my clothes. begging him not to be alarmed. and telling him that I would gem sell to the Doctor. I was just I't ady, when we heard a and knoekiug and ringing at the street door. My room being uu‘att:c at the back, and Mr. James‘s being a second floor room in the front, we went down to his room and put up the window. to see what was the matter.

“ Is that Mr. James ? “ said a man below. falling back to the opposite side of the way to look up at us.

" It is." said Mr. James; “ and you are my brother's man, Robert."

“ Yes. sir. I am sorry to say. air. that Mr. John is ill. lie is very bad, air. It is even feared that he may be lying at the point of deuth. lie wants to sue you. sir. [have a chaise here. Pray come to him. I'ray lose no time.“

Mr. James and I looked at each other and he said :

" Whilhelm, this is strange. I wish you to come with me."

I helped bun to dress. partly there. and. partly in the chaise; and no gross grow under the horses‘ tron shuns between l’oiaud Street and the Epping Forest.

Now, mind! I went with Mr. James intohis brother‘s room. and I saw and heard myself what follows.

His brother lay upon his head. at the upper end of a long bed-chamber. His old housekeeper was there, and

others were there; I think three others were there, if

not four, and they had been with him since early III the afternoon. He was in while. like the figure—necessarily so. because he had his night-dress on. He looked like the figure—mecessarily so. because he looked earnestly at his brother when he saw him come into the room.

But when hi-x brother rent-bed the bedside, he slowly raised himselfln bed. and looking lull upon him said these words :

" Jsstas, You "AVE arcs in: ant- our. TO-NluliT—AND YOU KNOW t'r! "

And so died!

Mr. Digit)! Seymour. Q. 0., who defended Allen. Larkin an .I Could, writes to the Times. in the character of a loyal Irishman. to suggest that Irishtucn in Lott- don and the Provinces shoul'l declare by public tucci- ings or formal addresses their devotion to the throne and constitution, and their abborrouec of the crimes

crpetrstotl under the IIIOUILUd name of Irish atriot- ism. He says :-—" There are obvious reasons. think. of a large and national character. in favor of such a movement; but there are also considerations of a more practical and personal kind. which are warthyof grave and immediate attention. A panic is rapidly spread- ing. which. unless checked in its earlier ate 0. must tend to produce culamitous results amen the Manual orders of Irisbmea resident in the var oul centres of trade and commerce in England. Let the notion once possess the public mind that among the humbler classes of my countryman 'Irish ‘ and 'Feuinn ' are convertible terms, and who can say how long the En lieh artisan or laborer will consent towork side by a do with men committed on the above assumption to a diabolical policy of secret treason and dastardly crime? If ships are menacod with Fenian lire, how long will Irishman be employed in our docks? If warehouses are in dan- ger from explosive compounds. how long will Irishman be allowed to labor in their precincts? What. in a word, will be the prospects for the winter if thousands of Irishman are driven from the English labor-market under the ban of a national proseviption. These are no speculative questions, nor am I a fanciful alarmist, There are prounds. only too solid, for contemplating the possibi ity of such a catastrophe.

It is not the professional man. whose social poeltloll is interlaced with various ties oi home relations and private interests. who has anythan to fear. The mis- chief will fall on those whose ham is lot exposes them to misrepresentations til-y Bonnet refute, and makes them responsible for the gnill to which they are no partm- I 50M" “I. vast m ority of my countrymen to bastion are at beat-var icy and as true as any men in “or West "h tie-slalom. I believe the miscreants who planned l e desperate out at Clerkonwell. ll Irishman by name or birth, are t miserable and into- gunied tools of foreign conspirators."

A woman named Atkinson, residing on Cartwright street. London. 0.. was anl'ocoted on Tuesday night last. it appears from the evidence of the husband. Win. Atkinson, and one of the filldren. that the do- oooeod being Marie. and soar confinement. had in- dnlgod during his ehoonoo, in whbhey which she insisted

elimining. and after mus. about half-n-pint of bed—on the husband's retire he went into thobedroovn andfonndhiowifonneonoeioos. Ileoioeod the children until twelve hold of it

When on machine», found she

Mrs.S.A.Allen’s

PREPARATIONS FOR THE HAIR.

Mus. A. ALLEN’s WORLD’S HAIR RESTORER,

is suited to both young and old. It strengthens ‘hu flair, prevents its falling or turning grey. and Im- Plrts to it a beautiful glossy appearance. It never fails to neuron: our stun