o?"

"I am going to purge the Roumin nation of a set of ruthless murderers
and brigands. Miserable wretches! instead of glory, you have brought
dishonour and disgrace upon our arms wherever you have appeared. While
the brave fought on the field of battle, you slaughtered their wives
and children; while they risked their lives before the cannon's mouth,
you attacked the houses of the sleepers, and robbed and massacred the
helpless and the innocent. Fall down on your knees and pray for your
souls, for the angel of death stands over you, to blot out your memory
from among the Roumin people!"

The last words were pronounced in a fearful tone. Numa was no longer
the cold, unmoved statue he had hitherto appeared; he was like a fiery
genius of wrath, whose very breath was destruction.

The Wallachians fell upon their knees in silent awe, while the women,
who had been standing outside, rushed shrieking down the rocks.

The Decurio drew a pistol from his breast, and approached the cask of
gunpowder.

With a fearful howl, they rushed upon him--the shriek of despair was
heard for an instant, then a terrible explosion, which caused the
rocks to tremble, while the flame rose with a momentary flash amidst
clouds of smoke and dust, scaring the beasts of the forest, and
scattering stones and beams, and hundreds of dismembered limbs, far
through the valley, and over the houses of the terrified inhabitants!

When the smoke had dissipated, a heap of ruins stood in the place of
Numa's dwelling!

* * * * *

The sun arose and smiled upon the earth, which was strewed with the
last leaves of autumn, but where were those who had assembled at the
spring-time of the year?

The evening breeze whispered mournfully through the ruined walls, and
strewed the faded leaves upon eleven grassy mounds!

* * * * *

The pen trembles in my hand--my heart sickens at the recital of such
misery.

Would that I could believe it an imagination--the ghastly horror of a
fevered brain!

Would that I could bid my gentle readers check the falling tear, or
tell them: "Start not with horror, it is but romance--the creation of
some fearful dream--let us awake, and see it no more!"

CRAZY MARCSA.

There are as yet no institutions in our country for those unhappy
beings in whose minds the "image and likeness" to their Divine
original has been destroyed. Hence every town and village in H