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Letter from the Baroness Clara de S., Lady of Honor of the Grand Duchess of Mecklenburgh.

NEUILLY, June 26th, 1837.

It seems to me as if honey-moons might become honey-years, every time I look at our young couple. How often do I think of you when I see them walking together in this delightful place; and when the sweet face of the princess says to me: 'I am so happy!"

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The more I become acquainted with the Royal family, the more I respect and love them. What a rich nature is that of the king! what genuine respect does it not inspire! How is all in unison-there is mind and heart, and every faculty equally developed! The experience of a life of excitement and trial has proved to him a possession which brings the highest interest.

When the circle in the evening is dismissed by 10 o'clock, the good king seats himself for an hour at the round table, in the queen's private apartment, where the queen, his sister, my Royal Highness, the two ladies in attendance, and myself, are with him, and work at our tapisserie while we listen to him. Those are delicious moments for me. The king often relates the drollest stories and looks so grave, while we all are laughing, that it is amusing to see him. Sometimes he speaks of his younger days, or of serious and important matters. I am full of admiration of his great mind and his noble character.

Our princess feels now altogether at home. Ah! our highest expectations for her are surpassed! Every day this illustrious young couple seem more happy. The whole demeanor of the Duke d'Orleans shows that he knows how to appreciate her. He is almost always near her, and their whole deportment is charming. She cannot praise sufficiently his kindness and his tender care of her. When we see her in the circle of this noble family, beloved as a daughter and sister, we rejoice for her, and feel less sensibly the loss sustained by our court-by our hearts! Her highness, the Grand Duchess, is delighted; and finds herself compensated for all the injustice she suffered from the nearest relations in Germany, on account of this marriage.

Letter from the Same.

COMPIEGNE, Sept. 16th, 1837. How I wish you could sometimes have the pleasure of seeing our princess with her glorious duke! It was a sweet tableau to see them together in the steamboat on our way to Chateau d'Eu, where the king had invited us all. How often did I think of you during this truly ideal voyage. It combined everything that is pleasant and delightful. The banks of the Seine are riant and romantic at the same time; and all had the air of a fete. Our steamer was decorated with flowers and garlands, and the tri-colored flags were flying around us like butterflies. On the shores all was life and joy; for old and young came to greet the youthful pair, and joyful acclamations of "vive le Duc et la Duchesse d'Orleans," were without end. The weather was so pleasant that we could continually remain on deck, and I wished only for more eyes to see all the beauties of the landscape at once. They have a right to call it "la belle France." The whole of Normandy, through which we passed on the chrysolist-colored Seine, is one most beautiful garden. Pretty villas

and cottages, (among these, the one belonging to the amiable poet Casimir Delavigne,) look down from the hills, and little villages are half-concealed by shady woods, and surrounded with green meadows. These are diversified with high mountains, old towers and ruins. The ruins of the Chateau Gaillard, built by William the Conqueror, present a striking aspect. Old gothic cathedrals are everywhere to be seen; those of Rouen and St. Oain were more picturesque than all. Rouen is an interesting place, but one day there was too short for so many attractive sights. From Rouen to Canteleu, where we left our steamer, the scenery increases in grandeur, as the Seine is wider. I should have continued with pleasure, notwithstanding the high waves, the tour by water; but the duke was afraid the princess might suffer from seasickness, and so we had recourse again to our carriages-my happy mistress, with her noble children, in the first. It is gratifying to see the behavior of her son-in-law towards her; so amiable, so full of respect.

We rested one day at Havre, finding everywhere the most affectionate reception and festive preparations. Yes! our princess has in her new country the same power over all hearts which made her so idolized in her fatherland. The grace of God, which is promised to humble and innocent beings, and the blessing that springs from it, is with her wherever she goes! From Havre we went to St. Valery, an original-looking place, near the sea, where we stopped for the night. The next day we proceeded from Dieppe to Eu. After a ride of five hours, we saw the high, pointed roofs of the Chateau d'Eu and the blue sea, with the old dark avenues, in which Mademoiselle de Montpensier walked so often. A little farther the town appeared, with the church on the slope of the hill. The plain, with the green meadows and clusters of trees, stretches along by the sea; and the village of Treport, with a lighthouse, gives to the whole landscape a still more romantic appearance. The dear and good king received his children and our whole company with the greatest kindness, and never shall I forget those eight days which we spent there. St. Cloud, although very beautiful, could never please me, but the leaving it made me sad, as we left the house of the dear king, where we had received so much kindness. Compiegne is elegant, but altogether in the new style-handsome, regular features, without expression; and I do not like such faces.

Now you want to know how we spend our days here at the new court of our young Duchess d'Orleans. The society de fondation consists of the illustrious young couple, my royal mistress, the Countess Lobau, with her daughter, the two other ladies of honor of the duchess, and the Duke de Coigny and Count de Slahault, cavaliers in attendance. We have besides, the whole staff and aides of the duke: General Randas, formerly governor to the prince, and General Marbot, a very droll man, who looks cross, yet notwithstanding tells the most witty and comic stories, which always make us laugh. Then there is Colonel Gerard, the Duke d'Elchingen, son of the unfortunate Marshal Ney, who has the appearance of a melancholy young chevalier of the old German school. The sad fate of his father made such an impression on him that he rarely smiles, except when he speaks of his children. These are the most interesting persons in our society; they dine always with us, and three or four times in the week fifteen or twenty persons are invited from Paris, or from the environs. Breakfast is not, as at the king's, in common. The ladies take it in their rooms, and every one spends the morning hour as he pleases. By three o'clock we assemble to ride, in carriages or on horseback, in the forest of Compiegne. At

seven o'clock we have dinner, after which the circle meets in the saloon of the princess; and the round-table, with the tapisserie-work, the piano, and a quantity of albums, entertain the company. The gentlemen walk about, and in some of the rooms are several games of whist. Once or twice a week there are hunting-parties, and we ladies follow in the carriage.

Sometimes I have the pleasure of being ordered to the boudoir of the princess, and when the hundred valets de chambre and servants have closed the last door, I am alone with my beloved young friend. Those are happy hours, which I enjoy far more since the regal pomp, which at other times surrounds her, no longer oppresses me. I look through it into that ever faithful and humble heart; and when the princess seizes my hand en passant, or her kind look tells me she is happy, then I am also happy.

A REAL PIRATE.

In this enlightened age, the notion obtains very extensively that a real, veritable, bona-fide pirate, is quite an obsolete affair-a character of the past-a fellow who has performed his part, and retired from the world's stage forever, leaving behind him nothing but his name and a few pleasant and poetical associations, among which occur black flags, and bloody, emblazoned with death's heads, scuttled ships, with projecting planks nicely balanced over their quarter rails, and low, black schooners, with masts stepped at an angle of forty-five degrees, or, as the sailors say, "half way between nothing at all and a church steeple." Talk of pirates-people at once think of the Buccaneers or the salle rovers; and if by special invitation their attention is attracted to the piratical of modern times, they boggle at Lafitte and the victims of Commodore Porter's cruise, and come to a dead halt at the mention of the renowned Wansley and Gibbs. Beyond these two worthies, now some fifteen years defunct, it is almost impossible to coax the credulity of a single member of this not-to-be-humbugged community. No! it's of no use. Then and there, on Bedlow's Island, was hanged until it was dead, the romance of the seas; and now, of all those who go down to the sea in ships, and do their business in the great waters, you can't find a dozen, who, apart from the question of Malay proas off the coast of Sumatra and around Java Head, have any more respect for pirates than a modern boy of eight years old has for ghosts or the devil. Alas, for the good old piratical and poetical! both have been swamped in the floods of utilitarianism; often united in their lives, in their deaths they are not divided. In this respect, however, their degenerate progeny may be said to resemble them, but with a difference; the old piratical was always poetical; the new poetical 'tis said, is often, if not always, piratical.

The piratical having thus nearly disappeared as an element of the social state, and a very general skepticism as to any lingering remnants of it having taken possession of the public mind, it behooves any one about to introduce a real pirate into general society, to preface his appearance by an assertion of his claims to confidence. With this view, I

have added the epithet real-meaning thereby an actual, veritable pirate, in contradistinction to your ideal Red Rovers, and all such kind of fanciful craft. My free-booter was alive and hearty but a few years since, and I presume he is so now, inasmuch as he was a middle-aged man, with a good constitution; and my story, if it has but a little romance in it, has a good deal of truth, which is something in these days of animal magnetism and quack medicines.

But where shall I begin? Ah! I see-just off the Island of Flores, with Corvo, black as one of the crows from which it is named, far off in the distance to the north. Beautiful is the first land fall at sea, under any circumstances; and it may be imagined that it was with no ordinary feelings of pleasure that we gazed up the deep ravines and green valleys, dotted with the occasional hamlets, churches, and convents, and along the steep and rugged hill-sides of the northernmost of the Azores.

"Beautiful!" I exclaimed, as I stood upon the poop-deck of the corvette C, with my spy-glass supported against the shrouds of the mizzen-rigging; "what a lovely and inviting valley!"

"Beautiful, indeed," replied one of the officers of the ship; "but did you ever hear that remark about distance lending enchantment to the view? If you were ashore there, you would find things of a different hue, I'll be bound. Those dark green slopes are nothing but potato patches, or what is equally unpicturesque, stumpy and bushy vineyards; and as for those pleasant-looking hamlets, I'll bet you could'nt get within fifty rods of them for the filth and stench with which they are surrounded. There is nothing like a Portuguese villa in the distance for an optical illusion."

The further discussion of the beauties of Flores, which, despite of the lieutenant's contemptuous opinion of Portuguese picturesqueness, seemed to be worthy of its name-the Island of Flowers-was interrupted by a midshipman, who, touching his cap to the officer of the deck, reported something floating in the water, a few hundred yards off the weather-beam.

"What does it look like ?" demanded the lieutenant.

"Why, sir," replied the middy, "it looks to me like a bunch of seaweed; but Jem Jones, of the fore-top, says he thinks it is something more than sea-weed; and Jones has got eyes like a hawk."

"Pshaw! it's nothing but some piece of a spar, with sea-weed collected round it. However, there is no harm in looking at it a little nearer. Take a pull on the larboard braces! Luff up! luff up! Mr. P-, report to the captain a nondescript in sight to windward."

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Fore-top, there!" shouted the officer of the deck, in a few minutes after his order for bracing up the yards had been executed. "Fore-top, there! have you got your eyes open?"

"Aye, aye, sir."

"Well, what do you make out on the weather-bow?"

"A barrel or cask of some kind."

"A barrel! well, it's to be hoped there is something in it," observed the purser; "to-morrow is the fourth of July, perhaps this is a godsend from old Neptune, in honor of the occasion."

The object was now plainly in sight, and the captain coming on deck, the ship was hove-to, and a boat lowered and sent for it. It proved to be what the top-man had announced-a barrel-although, when close along-side, it was a puzzle to me how any one could make out its character. Upon freeing it from sea-weed, and hoisting it on board, it was found to be completely enveloped in a mass of animal matter-barna

cles, sea-suckers-long worms, aud a kind of flat centipede were intertwined in a firm and solid layer from three to four inches thick. The cooper was sent for, and after a good deal of active exertion, the head of the cask was exposed to view.

In the meantime there was much curious speculation afloat among the group of spectators, as to the time our prize had been in the water. Three years was the shortest period allotted by those who had had most experience of the sea; while among the junior officers there was a considerable diversity of opinion, and a much more liberal allowance of time to conjecture. "I'll tell you what I think," demurely interposed one of the younger middies-"you recollect that Columbus, when he was coming home on his first voyage, was caught in a terrible nor'wester just here, off the Western Islands, and in order that the knowledge of his great discovery might not be lost in case he foundered, as he was expecting to do every moment, he wrote two letters, enclosed them in tin cases with wax, put the cases in barrels, and then threw them overboard. There is no account of their ever having been picked up, and, of course, they must have been floating about till this time. Î guess

this is one of them."

"But the barrel is full of liquor of some kind," objected one of the by-standers.

"True," replied the middy; "but it is the sea-water, that, in the course of three hundred and fifty years, has leaked in-we shall find the cake of wax inside all safe."

The carpenter having, at last, scraped his way down to the head of the barrel, proceeded to tap it with a gimlet. Upon canting the cask over, a clear, colorless liquid streamed from the orifice, diffusing around a grateful fragrance, that made several old tars, who were assisting at the operation, snuff up the air with evident delight. A cup was brought and filled. The carpenter passing it to a midshipman, the midshipman to the first lieutenant, and the first lieutenant politely handing it on to the captain-who, nosing it with a dignified and pensive air for a moment or two, touched it to his lips, and handed it back to the first lieutenant. The first luff raised it to his lips.

"Gin!" exclaimed the captain.
"Gin!" said the first luff.

"Very good!" said the captain.

"Devilish good!" responded the first luff.

At this moment the officer of the deck interposed to cut short the rising discussion. "That ship," said he, "to leeward, is acting in a queer kind of way. Since she was reported, about half an hour ago, she has altered her course, and is heading up for us as close as she can lie. She has signals flying, that I can make nothing of, at her fore and main-masts; but I can't tell whether she has a flag at her peak or not. I suppose she wishes to speak us."

"Well, sir, square away, and give her a chance to do so," replied the captain.

The attention of all the idlers was, by this order, directed to the advancing ship; and upon looking round again for the first object of interest-the barrel of gin-it had most mysteriously disappeared. There was a rumor current throughout the ship, during the day, that the barrel had been seen on its way to the captain's store-room; but an extra glass of common ship's whiskey, given, ostensibly, in honor of the Fourth, but in reality, as Jack suggested, by way of commutation for

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