The Georgia journal. (Milledgeville, Ga.) 1809-1847, October 15, 1844, Image 1

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'•'t.5 \?Tf ' .....uk DOLLARS PCK ANNUM. IN ADUANOMi flVoU* *T Wl «» Of TNK YEAR. .....Illbi MttlwArM-tMtttM • »r,Hf *111 an C.AmTM»w»„. M i „;Urrttr*f me fid. M *ts^'“'Vii'JlIVrUiUaaajf *araoa oataf tka lala, aalll iko I fH I*' 1 *' .“.Vi. „«ul ia advaaca ->r ..il.fk.lory raMnaea ilr«a. U-rtfl'S.TTlkNf* ara laaartad al II caal# par aaaara for tlia r»n«* “’.list OMU aaraqaarafar aaek laaaMaatkaraaftar. A uuaVpaaaaftaa llaaala •■allljfa,aaaialnin ( j tara.Btacalara, or flnar- ■v. "■ "I'l—a_k*taw,,a bo MIS aa ika Iral Taaida) in tba k «r»t«'t'""’“‘ h , llltl ikarareaooaaad tbraaln iho .1- 1 ba'*"*- rt-h u<0 that aantvia ableh tbn property I, •».'Vft&rfthws ka,lva.;-.public(S3.SIX- r Bli*J!l.u l |?5Vs mi.ihoal « public aunllon.oa Ilia «r*l Ton 1*1.. .."h. batarra tba alaalkaari of aala.M tliepjncc nfpulp % ,l !*I , i.”lSa«alI' , ailaraibVlau«nla>tamnnliry. of'Ailioltilitrn ***”)*'fll.ii.HIp, may baa a banu pratitad, lli.l flvhiir SIX M .ar oie«*rih« pobl.Ipaaoltr.nfIhl. Slnta.and .1 Kvd •"*?,», c.iarl bnuaa.abnru.ufb aalaaaralo be kald. hid* r , of Pam-hi.) Praprrly..nntlbiig|yau in Uko moo f i vi ,, t «,«Tla<no iba day of »la. .... . „^**aUmSaKr* aodUradiioriof aoEalatamuaibapulilUhoa -.fO*TV dw- w|u b „ ma.lr la Ilia Caurl of Ordinary foi rpjlioaO fl|0, mint bo nuMi-hcl for FOUR MONTHS. Li*'» '/" iMva ln “all NfcoHOK-1, m»-t I,a pobll.kod Mr FOUR ■ia rns. h, ^ r ”*“ y “ rJ ' ,r * l ” ol “'’ * l,,ub * m " <1 ” lbor,M ’“ by ' hr brt' 1 * ...for Letter. nf Adinlnl.trolian, mart bo poWl.baS lAfrly [CiwffjjHaMaoftaia adialnirtrallon, wunlhly in «urat*»-for tlla- 1>« I'obliibod monthly fir ^‘.U^oraHobUliliofC p.p.M- far li. fill of ,hrc. oannalUat I from Esoffllloriill Ai.nlli.alratar., jjtt.llu* boe.» pivoi» by tbe deceased, the fnllspace of three aiatb*. ill (Ilmira br canllnuod ncroidlnf lo those, lha lapul Pipili.’ aoloiaolhoralia ordered. ffOair* 1l, ?*,,I nfiliisklnd continue! lore 1 - Ail h Viki ORORHIA JOURNAL. loilroof lb« wrBS iiY M All.—“A poelraaiter may enclose inonny I R *' 1 .a lheimblisharof anoasliapor.lo pav Iho ...twcr.pUon of. lia a loiter l» ‘"l r r .„ktha loner, if arltloii by hlnuelf.”—Xma< Ktn- B rz*n t * sses ^POETICAL. ======= THEBE’S not a look. Tlirrc’s not a look, n word of lliilie, 1 My soul linilieVr forgot: T |,ii ne’er liaol ind a riuslrl "bins. Nor Iby lo, ' k '' K raccfu ^ ,wl "*> Which 1 remember uol. There never yet a murmur fell From ilint beguiling tongue, Which did not, wilb a lingeimg epcll, {i„„ n inv clinrined nennea dwell, Like songs from Eden sung. Ah! thnt I could,nlonce, forget All, ull that linuni me an— And vat,thouwilching girl,—and yet, To dm were sw eeter Ilian to let The lov’d roiueinbrnnce go. No, if this slighted heart must see Its lailhlul pulse denny. Oh let it die, remembering thee, And like the burnt nrninn, bo ■ Consum'd in rorett ^MISCELLANEOUS. [rROM THE METROPOLITAN FOR SEPTEMBER,] the BltlUIANT LOCKET. A Tide, by J. E. Carpenter, author of “the Ro mance of the Dreamer," etc., etc. CHAPTER I. It was in the autumn of iho year 1800, when the I republican army under Ney, Moreau, Lamb, Cyr I and other of its bravest generals, was pursuing its I victorious career, and laying waste some ol ihe J most important towns in Germany, that the cir- I cumiiances we are about to relate took place. [ The frequent want of stores, ammunition, and money, in '.he republican armies, and tbe hope of plunder then so frequently held out lo tbe French I soldiers as the reward of victory, caused no in considerable alarm in the breasts of the more peaceable inhabitants of those places which wero considered likely lo become the theatre of Itostili- **• , _ Among these, the inhabitants of a German I to»n of considerable importance—and which for I distinction we will call Ebristien—Itad ample rca- Isons for their misgivings ; the daily, almost hour. I ty, approach of tbe French being expected. I The family of Paul Kimnayer, a merchant citi- | ten of great wealth, was amongst those most agi- I tsted by the afflicting intelligence. His household consisted of his wife, on only daughter, and a few douieelics in whom lie could place confidence. His daughter was the spring which regulated every ac tion of the merchant’s life; she was the apple of his eye, the sunshine of his shady places; for her he hid accumulated his wealth, tlmt tier t aro beauty might win with it u station of rank and influence ; sod now the hope of a whole lifetime might be I necked in a few brief hours. His wife was first to suggest a plan for the con- I ceelinent of thoir treasures. Their mansion was I.shilled near the extremity of the town, and from I ill eecrel passage communicated with a bower iothe garden adjoining ; from thence in the even ing, a mail might easily steul unperceivcd lo tho I adjacent woods; and there she proposed that the Merchant should at night-time, bury his treasure ; or, el any rale, that he should proceed through tho forest and deposit it with a relation who was lo be trusted, who would not be suspected of possessing ■orauch wealth, and who resided uhout two duys’ journey from the place. For a lime, Paul Kinmayer resisted every im portunity of liia wife. Who would protect litem should the anticipated attack take pluce in his nb* setteeT Thedomestice were old and infirm, and they would be loo much alarmed for their own safe, ty to care much for others not akin to them. But when his wife spoku upon the future ; when she impressed on him that it was wealth only tliut would be required of them, and that, deprived of that,all fur which they had so long struggled would be scattered in a moment, his resolution gave way. "I go,” he said, “and 1 leave you in tho trust of One whose all-powerful liund will protect you ; un- Isis, indeed, in liis iuftnilu wisdom, he deems it fit ting that the innocent should fall un example and terror to the guilty.” Collecting ull tliut was most valuable into a small packet, as tlie evening approached, the merchant •••prepared to depart. One jewel only remained behind—it was his own miniature, set in a locket, with diamonds of great vulue. It was his wedding gift to Amelin, and with it ho hesitated lo port; ami he placed it ngain around her neck with the same fervour and utFeciion tliut lie felt when lie first pro. i **nted it. To her and to tiis daughter, the rmni". “ke uf her mother, he gave some necessnry ui- -tions for their welfare during hits absence, and dng an oflectionato farewell, he departed un known to any hut themselves. It was in the evening of the fourth day after the "Mrchant departed that ihe roll of the drums, the •hril! voice of the trumpet calling lo arms, and tho tumult among the inhabitants without, proclaimed hi the inmates of the mansion llmt the enemy wus ksl approaching. The town wus, indeed, filled •ith Austrian troops, hut these had been so often •ad lately Imrrussed and defeated by the viclorous | *'rns of the French, that it was not without reuson kittens felt strong misgivings in their prowess, all chance of tho merchant being enabled to Much the house, or even to obtain admittance with in the town previous to the termination, was now entirely shut out. Tho wife had but liltlo doubt (hit his reputed wealth would not permit the house I 10 pass unmolested ; and after causing the doors to ■>« barricaded, nnd tho windows and shutters so ared, tho proceeded with her daughter lo the in- I Mer,I >usl apartment of the mansion. CHAPTER If. On tho return of the merchant, tho French ar- m y was evacuating the pluce, carrying withthomlhe trnphies they hod wrested from the conquered Aus- j loans, end a large supply of stores and plunder I from the devoted town, l’uul’s heart died within | him ts he steultluly entered the suburb**, nnd pro. towards the piece of Ids own residence, j, ”hhin the town all whs confusion and dismay , Inure were open storehouses, rifled of their con- I *nt$, the ve r y doors torn from their hinges ; there I '• trim gardens of tne richer classes broken dow n uud trampled over; in the tuarkut pieces were gioups of tho middle und lower classes, loudly complaining of excesses of both Austria and 1‘ ranee. Still Paul stopped not to join in the gen eral outcry ; his only ntixicty was his own homo. At length lie reached his dwelling. With what a pang III' intense anxiety he rushed through the open portal! Tlth servants had evidently fled ; the stairs boro the marks of heavy footsteps. Paul •lopped not to cxnmino them, or he would have seen they were traced with gore. With the speed of thought lie rushed into their accustomed sitting room, nnd tlioro u horrid spec, luclc awaited him. On tho ground lay his wife, stabbed through the lionrt ; one hand had fallen back as if to protect lior from the attack of the as snssin, while the other grasped lightly a few links of the slight gold chain to which had been uttached lit*diamond-mounted portrait. OI his daughter there wero no traces. Loudly did he cull, and widely did lie seek, first Io his own house, and tlton through the whnlo uf the town, un til it was whispered ubroad that lie was mad ; and so for a time, lie was ; hut anxiety brought weari ness, and repose led to reflection. How deeply did Paul Kinmayer reproach him self for not taking tho miniature with lite oilier val uables, need not he related, since he little doubted that his wile’s resistance to part with it hud led to the fulal catastrophe. One redeeming thought flushed across his mind by its agency—if indeed she hud not shared tho fato of her mother—he might ho enabled to discover his missing daughter. To this end he resolved lo devote tho whole of his future existence ; and after the funeral of his wife, he disposed of his house, the wreck of his house hold goods, und prepared to travel; whither he knew not ; but any where tu fly from the scenes where all his hopes of earthly happiness lind been blighted by tho ruthless hand of the destroyer. "And these,” lie said, as he turned from his na. tivu town and home, "these are the deeds perpetra ted under the sacred banner of liberty! Alas! how is the divine attribute desecrated ! How little, but the name, exists in the blood-thirsty dynasty of France. CHAPTER m. Shall we follow tho steps of Kinmayer for twelvo years 1 Shull we relate how lie travelled In strange lunds, ever in the wake of the French army—some times in disguise—how minute, hut yet how cau- tious were his inquiries, nnd, alas ! ho.v fruitless 7 Shall we say how the halo man grew grey nnd lee. hie, as though half a century had passed over his head, in scarcely more than a tithe of one ? No; for we could relate nothing that would interest the reader—nothing but the patient suffering of u be reaved man ; hoping, hut hopeless, seeking but finding not; until it almost seemed that the fucul. lies of the wanderer had ceased to embrace ths originul object of his mission ; hut thoy did not— they only slumbered. ft was something beyond twelvo years after the scenes rolated in our second diopter look place, that a French officer was reciting in one of the principal cafes of Paris, to an eager crowd of lis teners, the particulars of the inglorious retreat from Russia, of which he was one of the few sur vivors. His age could not havo exceeded thirty ; but the dreadful hardships of the Russian cam paign had told fearfully upon his hardened features War, however, had not tamed, hut had evidently added to, a naturally ferocious disposition ; for he was detailing, with savage satisfaction, the horrid torments of tho enomy, already forgetful of the se verities he Imd but just escaped, and to which so many of his comrades had fallen a sacrifice. Among those who listened most attentively was a stranger, who sat, almost unnoticed in an obscure corner of the room ; an involunlury expression of disgust at lengtlt betrayed him, and all eyes were immediately turned to where he sat. ‘‘I’ll wager a Napoleon,” said lite officer, ‘‘that the old German never smelt powder but on a re. view day; and never saw more smoke than that which proceeded from his own meerschaum.” ‘Belter if others wero like mo ; who remember ing only that they are soldiers, forget that they are men.” •How !’ exclaimed the officer, starting to his feet,‘such sentiments here tiro dangerous ; hut you Germans are ever mystical. However, I’ll tell you a Gorman adventure so, garcon, another hot* tie of coti roli.nnd then ‘Do you happen to know the German town of Ebristien 7’ inquired the officer. The dull eye of the stranger seemed suddenly lit with a liquid fire as he answered in the affirma tive. •It was my first campaign,’ continued the other ; ■my father was one of the bravest’ (ho meant the most bloodthirsty) ‘leaders of the revolution. His influence obtained for mo a commission; nnd, crowned with success, 1 found no difficulty in earn ing for myself promotion. In the action alluded lo we wero ullowed but two hours to make wliut pillage we could in the town of Ebristien before we proceeded onward to greater nnd more glori ous victories. Well, there was a jeweller ofgreut wealth, whose house, which was pointed out to me by an Austrian prisoner, we entered, hut in which neither jowels nor portable valuables could we find. The servants fled on our first entrance: the wife nnd daughter only remained. The latter had lock ed themselves in a room which wus soon burst open; we demanded of thorn their valuables; the trum pets iiud ulrendy sounded "To horse !” and 1 was preparing to leave the house, wlienn gold chain around the neck of tho elder female, attracted my There was attached to it’ Paul, who might have escaped in the confusion, did uot attempt tu do to; and he was of oourm, ta ken into custody, and incarcerated in one of the dungeons of the police. The following morning ho was led.forth for ex amination ; the wifo of tho fallen officer, he was told, would he Ilia accuser. But he walked with a firmer step und a lighter heart limn usual. One portion uf his mission had been nccuinplislted ; he Iiud avenged his wife’s murderer, but lie had found no traces of hia duughter. On reaching the place of examination, he was commanded to stand forth ; a shriek—a long ago nizing shriek—wus heard, and the prosecutrix loll ■enseiess to the floor. Restoratives wero applied, and on Iter recovery the cause of her ogitation was soon apparent. ‘it ia my father !’ she said,and breaking through ilie crowd, she agnin fell senseless in his arms. The impetus of her fall caused a locket to drop from her bosom, where it was still suspended by a chain, Paul Kinmuyer snatched it up. Yes, it was the same—the satno circlet of brilliants; hut now it contained the portrait of—whom!—of his dauglt- ’s husband—the murderer of his wife ! Passing her lo one of the attendants, the old man smote his breast and called uloud in his trou ble— ‘Was it for this thou we it preserved, my beau tiful—my pure!’ In consequence of the state of the witnesses, the examination was postponed, and tho same evening the dying man requested that the prisoner, togeth. er with the chief of the polico might uttend him. On their arrival life was ebbing fast. The con fession of the officer was brief; he admitted the murder of Paul’s wife, nnd the justice of his retri bution ; lie further confessed that the daughter, he. ing almost a child was carried away by the com mon soldiers to the rear of the army ; that she was forced from tho apartment previous to, and knew nothing of her mother’s fate ; and that repenting of his act, he had hud Iter conveyed to Paris, and educated at his own charge. With her y ;ars, her loveliness increased ; and she knowing him only as a benefactor, at last consented to marry him. This confession was attested and forwarded to the Emperor. Meanwhile the friends of the offi cer came forward us prosecutors, his wife refusing to do go. Tne murder in the lutter case was fully proved, and Paul wus sentenced to death. On the morning appointed for his execution he was reprieved, und suffered to enter a monastery, where he soon sunk under a broken heart. With his wealth, which was considerable, ho founded a convent for the "Sisters of Mercy ;’ and in the still beautiful abbess, whose piety and be nevolence so many have, with justice, lauded and admired, may be discovered the unfortunate daugh ter of Paul Kinmayer. Anecdotes oT Napoleon. Br A correspondent of the new mirror. attention. •A portrait V asked the stranger, in a tone of concealed anxiety. •Don’t interrupt me,’ said the narrator ; 'the sto- rv is droller than any one would imugine.’ The blood of the stranger camo and went rapid ly, and putting down his pipe, he was observed for tiio moment, feeling uhout his pockets as if in search of some missing article. •You’re right it wus a portrait; and in a most valuable selling. Provoked at obtaining no booty I demanded it of her; she should Imvo hud the worthless minialuro. hut she was obstinate. I tried to force it from her, hot she resisted ; nay more she tried to seize a pistol from my belt, and in the heal of tny passion—for H was no time for reflec tion—1 stabbed her.” , _ '■Have you that portrait still 7' asked the Ger- mB i[ | m vo ; though it has been taken from tho sit- tino.in which one of my own now glitters. You said'you knew Ebristien.’ •I did years ago.’ .... . ‘And probably the original of this picture 7 said the officer, producing it. • Well, well !’ •Ah! is he alive 7’ is—to he THE avenger !’ And before a movument was observed by tho bystanders Paul Kinmayer had, with a fstul precision, levelled a pla in! at the French officer, and shot Inm in the breast. CHAPTER IF. Mortally wounded, but not quite dead, he who had braved the heat ofa hundred batllea, and whom death had spared that he might make e more auila* bln atonement for his guilt, wa» carefully removed lo a private apartment. During one of the great reviews which the em peror held in the court of the Tuileries, a very co- mie recognition took place betweeu the drummer ofa regiment uf the line, and a general ofthe guard, who fifteen years before had been bed-fellows :— I speak ofthe drummer Castagnet, and General Gros, both well known by the whole army. Na poleon had a very particular friendship and esteem for the latter. “Gros," said he, “lives in gunpow der ; like the pike in the water, it is his element.’’ The original munnor in which this officer was promoted to so elevated a rank, ought not to be pass ed over in silence. At the same time I should say it would havo been difficult to find u man more worthy of being pluced ul the head of a brigade of grenadiers of the old guard. The soldiers loved him,nnd said : "He is u perfect trooper.” Ido not know that the soldiers could have made o great er eulogy on their chiefs.—Gros merited it in many respects. He was not quite thirty-six ; tall, well, made, and his face was masculine and handsome. To all these advantages he joined that of a strong sonorous voice, excessive generosity, and a valour which delighted itself in the midst of danger. Un fortunately, ho was not very lettered, and had a way of expression peculiar to himself. Gros, who was only a colonel, commanding the chasseurs of the old guard, happened tu be alone, one morning, at St. Cloud, in one of the little sa loons contiguous lo the emperor’s cabinet.—There, not knowing wlinl to do, while waiting impatiently for the aid de-camp to come and introduce him to Nnpnleon, he stopped before u Psyche, and regard. d himself with complacency, pulling up his collar, adjusting his epaulettes, and exulting in the regu larity of his person and costume. The satisfaction caused him by his examination, led him by degrees to compliment himself upon it. Ah! my cadet" said ho, measuring himself from head lo foot, “llteru are few built and rigged like thyself. Wlial a pity thou didst not make thy ric a-ric (rhetoric) as the major’s little white beuks say, or that thou hadsl not learned memaliques as by emperor, who esteems tltee, wished ! Thou woutdsl have been general now—” You ure !” suid Nupuleon, slapping him sud denly on the shoulder. During the short soliloquy of Gros, the emperor hud entered the little saloon noiselessly und uuper. ccivod ; lie had overheard him, and seized ihe oc casion to name him general of the guard, and so much the better, as it was to tell him of his nomina tion that lie had sent for him to St. Cloud. A short time after the day of the review in ques tion, Cnstagnel the old comrade of Gros, found him self in the court of the Tuileries, placed in the first rank of tho drummers of the forty-fifth regiment of the line, whose right lay near the gate of the ru« de i’Echelle. From the testimony of his colleagues M. M. Officers of the hide, Castagnet, provost of puns, and dancing master, was, Leside a Satan of a buffoon, and very amiable in company. Castagnet learned that General Gros was to give the regiment iho preparatory glance uf inspection, before the Emperor came lo make thnt of Ihe master .Can. tngiiel burned with the desire tu see once more this officer-general, with whom he had formerly lived in the greatest familiarity. As soon as the superb drum-major ofthe forty- fifth perceived General Gros, advancing on horse, buck, he found himself anticipated, for the general stopped heforo him, and in majestic attitude in front of the subordinates, to whom, turning to the right uud left without moving his body, he spoke as a farmer to the little chickens he was feeding. He fluttered,cajoled,andaboveall recommended them lo ucttogetlierwlienthe moinentof making themselves Iteurd should cumo. As to Castagnet, his heart heal violently ; he rested himself on his left leg ; ho twisted his drum-slicks in his hands, as if they had been a chocoluto mill; moreover, he tried to compose n compliment for his anciont comrade.— Now, ns soon as the general lunked towards him, he quickly raised his hand to his schako, and, in a voice of counter-tenor, harangued him thus : "Eh ! nom d’un now !—is it you, my general!— Look at me, iliun ; it is the hufToua of Relintintin, with whom yuu havo drunk more schinicle than there is broth in the porridge-pot of the invalides. How is your heslih 7 Do you not remember me 7” At the first words, and still more from Csslsg- net’s voies, recognized his old bed.fellow, volunteer like himself in a Lmmillion ol patriots from i'Aude. He jumped precipitately from his horse, fluog him self in the drummers arms, emhraeed him with e- miRion. and replied to him by prossing liL hand in a way to crush his bones. “Very wolf f very well ! my old Caslagi.el, nnd you 7” “Like the ancionts of tho camp do In Lui.o, but not so well as you, my gcnerul ; for it seems you ore fine at present! That is the reason you had furgulten Castagnet a little. For myself, ulways rolling, ns you see, while formerly you partook with me de quoi to fill my pipe.” While saying you are fine, Castagnet took off (he general’s lint, and utiMuremoniously put it on his own head. Gros laughed, as all who witnessed this scene, nnd without seeming tho least angry at Ihe boldness of the soldier, took his hut again, remounted his horse and said: ‘Conte and see nto to morrow after tho morning roll, you shall see that I always havo at my lodg ing the bouffarde of friendship, and ihe laisst toi fuire of consolation.” “1 shall not fail my general, although what 1 have lo tell you will be only something laughable , because at present, thanks to the little toys of the little corporal, (pointing with pride to the star spark, ling on his breast,) the blague is complete, and one can gnrgle instantaneously uftur the healing, when ono’s throat is too dry." During this burlesque conversation, Napoleon, after having traversed ulong the first files of the guard, and prepared himself to enter the Carousel by one of the lateral grilles, cast his eyes in that direction; he thought he distinguished nt the ex tremity of'tlio line u soldier with a general’s hat on his head. “What’s the meaning of this, General Gros 7” cried lie, in a severe tone, nnd frowning angrily ; "is n scone of the (Juruivnl going on here 7” The general took off his hat, and pointing tho emperor to a drummer standing motionless in the ranks, he replied, with his accustomed freedom : ‘•Sire, it is an old friend, one ofthe bravest sol diers of Snrnlirc Meuse, who loves to jest with his chief sometimes, to make his comrades laugh ; 1 givo him to you for u solid trooper, who has never hud cold in his eyes before the enemy.—Such as you see him, sire, he lias ulrendy rolled his victori ous drum in all tho countries possible in nature.— He is called Castagnet; it w us lie who beut the charge with one hand before St. John d’Acre, be cause Ito Imd the other shot through by the ball of an Arab at the commencement of the shaking." Napoleon loved discipline, but bravery still more. “Ah! nit!” said Ito, shaking his head, “that is dif ferent !” Then addressing himself to the drum mer. he added in that accent with which ho enchant ed his soldiers : ‘•It was you who was the third lo enter into St. John d’Acre. I am very glad to renew acquain tance with you—General Gros,” he continued, "1 tlmnk you for presenting me to Castagnet.” Thus saying Napoleon raised his hand to his hat, and slightly lifted it. At these words, at this gesture, the countenance of the drummer became purple ; his mustache stood erect on his upper lip ; he replied awkward, iy :j "And I also, my emperor, I am fluttered—inde finitely—” "It was you too, if my memory is good,” resu med Napoleon, “who gave proof of presence of mind anil courage so admirable at the combat of Montebello, in saving the life of your cutnman. der.” Tho scarlet of Castagnet’s face turned blue. His eyes burned like two carbuncles, ho replied, still lower than the first time : “A little, my emperor, always the same stuffi" "Gros," added Napoleon, "from this evening yi take this man with you ! He is of my guard, ami if ho continues to be well spoken of, 1 will udvance him. "And you will do right, sire," replied tho gene, ral, “for Castagnet alone can make more noise Ihuu a whole par], ot artillery fired off together.” Napoleon, followed by General Gros, -spurred on Marengo, and entered the Carousel. An instant after he mude Marengo, with healing sides und nostrils covered with foam, advanced a few steps. He raised hisarm, shook his hand above his head, and immediately was heard a roll of drums, growing louder und tender like thunder, then slop, ped all ut once. A regular firing of guns succeeded throughout the whole line. At the command ofa single voice, all move. Thon, the countenance of the emperor, lately so pale, so impassible, coloured and became animated ; he settled himself in his saddle, and cast a triumphant look to the aid-de-camp of the king of Prussia who seemed absorbed in the con templutiun of this magnificent tableau. It was be cause Napoleon remarked the undulations of tho ea gles on his hamters ; it was because lie perceived his soldiers advancing slowly, but in perfect order; in a word, it was because the defile of his guards was going lo commence, and because the specta cle never hud its like in the world. Anecdote of Dr. Young.—As the Doctor was walking in his garden, at Welwyn, in company with two ludics one of whom ho afterwards mar ried. the servant came to tell him a gentleman wish ed to speuk with him. ‘Tull him,’ said the doctor, ‘I ain loo happily engaged to change my situation.’ The ladies insisted that he should go, as his visitor was a man of rank, his patron, and his friend. As persuasion, however, had no effect one took him by Ihe right arm. the other by the left, and led him to the garden gate ; when finding resistance was in expressive manner for which lie so remarkable, spoke tltn following lines : ‘‘Thus Admn looked when from tho garden driven, And iliiib disputed orders (tent (rum llcaven, l.ikr him I go; but yci to go am loth ; Like him I go , (or angels drove um both, Hard was bin fate, but mine atill more unkind« Ilia Eve went with him, but mine atuya behind.” Prejudice.—The following forcible nnd beauti. ful delineation of prejudice, is uscribed to Hughs Worthington, n late English divine, to the celebrat ed Dr. Price. “Prejudice may he compared to a misty murning in October.- a man goes forth to an eminence, and lie sees at the summit of a neighbor ing hill a figure of apparently gigantic stature, for such the imperfect medium through which he is viewed would make him appear ; he goes forward a few steps and the figure advances towards him—tfie size lessens as they upproach—they draw nearer, and the extraordinary appearance is gradually but sensibly diminished ; at lust they meet, and per haps the person he had taken fur a monster proved io be his own brother. A Blazing Thought.—A correspondent of the Broklyn Star, writing from the Niugaru Fulls, says“The tpruy which rises from the horse shoe full to a grout height, 1 think contains a jet of hydrogen gas, nnd I regretted much that I had not brought a hall of plnlinium sponge, which I had pre pored with a tube and with a pole to place in this jet thus igniting the gas and producing a blaze which would surpasa in the splendor of its great hydrogen wall on the Great Kanawha; The fulls would make a splendid bonfire; and if I am right in supposing a column of hydrogen to puss upward from this cataract, the blaze would be almost per petual.” Won’t take twenty Dollars, Some waggish students at Yale College, a few years since, wero regaling themselves at the “Ton- timo,”whon un old farmer from the country enter, ed Iho room, (inking it for a Bar room,) and inquir ed if he could obtain u lodging there. The old fel low who was a shrewd Yankee, saw at once that he was to lie made the butt of their joke, hut quiet ly taking off Ills hat, and telling a worthless little dog he had with him, lo lie under the chair, he tuok a glass of the proffered beverage. Thu students anxiously inquired after the huultlt of the old man’s wife and children, und the fanner with affected sym. patliy. gave them tho whole pedigree, with numer ous anecdotes regarding his furm, stock, &u. •‘Do you belong to the Church 7" usked one of the wags. "Well,I suppose you would not tell a lie,” repli ed the student. “Not for the world." “ Now, what will you take for that dog 7” point, ing to the farmer’s cur, who was not worth his weight in Jersey mud. “1 won't tuke twenty dollars for that dog.” “Twenty dollars ! why, he is not worth twenty cents. “Well, I assure you I would not take twenty dol. tars for him." "Come, my friend,” said the student who with his companions wus bent on liaving some capital fun with tho old man. "Now you say you won’t tell a lie for the world, lei me see if you will not do it for twenty dollars. I’ll give you twenty dollars lur your dog.” "I’ll not tuke it.” "You will not 7 Here, let me see if this won’t tempt you to a lie.” added the student, producing u small hag of null dollars, from which he commenc ed counting numerous small piles upon the table. Tho furmor was silting by tho table with his hut in his hand, apparently unconcerned. “There,” added the student, “there are twenty dollars, all in silver; I will give vou that for your dog." The old farmer quietly raised Iris hat to the edgo of iho table, and then us quick aa thought scraped all the money into it except one half dollar, and then exclaimed :— I won’t take your twenty dollars ! Nineteen nnd a half is as much ns the dog is worth; hu is your property !” A tremendous laugh from his fellow students showed the would-be wng llmt he was completely “rowed up,” nnd tliut ho need not look lor help from that quurter ; so lie good naturedly acknowl edged beat. The student retained his dog which he keeps to this day as a lesson to him never to attempt to play tricks on men older than himself, nnd especially to be careful how lie tries to whee dle aYunkeo farmer.— Yah Literary Magazine. IIow the People got R ich ia Good Old Times. Among the must lucrative speculations at that period were Government contracts. Supplies were often wanted for the army and nuvy in a gruul bur- ry ; celerity we all know must be paid for, and fre quently it was, in more ways than one. A capital, isl had then all the due advantages of wealth. Be- sides that, he could scramble together such sub stances as might represent the piovtsions or cloth ing, arms, ammunition, cordage, tackling of any kind,, which the public service appeured to requiro, he had ample means of securing the interest of those who were appointed to inspect his supplies, nnd these men, whatever might ho their sins, cov ered them with the most devoted gratitude. For, us 1 have often heard my father and his friends de clare. could it muko any difference lo people whose trade it was to he shut at, whether they were pois oned or starved or a little reduced in condition be- forehand? If a ship wero lost through being ill- found, sonutural a consequence was only an anti, cipution of some other accident ; and it was really lurd to expect of a contractor tliut bo should Turn, ish good materials (or this absolute waste, when any trash would serve to be cust away, and the differ ence might go where it ought, into his pocket. It is the province and privilege of geniuH to cut its own royal road, und my father wns of this aristocracy of nature. He hud luken a large contract fertile supply of beef and pork to a fleet destined for an important expedition, and had given Iteuvy securi ties for its fulfilment. The principal supplies fur such victualling were drawn from Ireland. Having the foresight of Mercury, with the industry of Her cules, lie absolutely forestalled and monopolized all the salted meat that could fur sometime he drawn from that country. The fleet wns anxiously ex. peeled by the Ministry to sail ; my lather pul off the fulfilment of his contract to the last moment ; nnd, at the moment it ought lo Imvo been comple- Led, he broke it. The Ministry were furious with their friend und supporter ; threatened as if they Iiud their Attorney General ami the Court ol Ex chequer and all other means of revenue, political nnd financial, to hurl at him in their wrath. VVliat wus that to my father 7 I have already said tlmt lie was a man of courage. They might talk of Ireuson, os they did ; ho knew the law ; a breach of contract was no treason. They talked of impris oning. “Pooh! my breeches pocket !” said my vuliant father. The Ministry descended from the imaginary to the real : they could see the securities lor the full penalties. “ Of course” replied my fa. tlier, "hot os I have some character to lose as a man of business, yuu will find that the inonoy is already paid at the proper office, and my securities are dis charged.” The Ministry felt they were done. There was the fleet ready to sail, manned nnd offi cered, but where wero tho pork and beef 7 Ready lor shipping on hoard tlml fleet at ten minutes' no. ttco, provided they were puid for at a proper price. -My lather wanted nothing hut wliut was fair ; the market value of his goods. He requested, too, tlmt ii Ire did uol serve his country at such a crisis, when he wns the only man who could do it, tlmt lliu ill founded aspersions which Imd been cast up on his patriotism and his honor should he withdrawn lie wus nut particular on this point, lie stood too high for tnat ; out. as lie knew they must do it, he might Imve it into the bargain Accordingly n sub paid lo do work of tlmt kind, did it ; the provision wus shipped, the fleet sailed, my father pocketed the money; his securities lauded him to the skies, us u man ofthe most careful punctuality, and declared they would bo hound for him to any umount; every body else thought they prudently might, as lie Imd greatly increased his fortune, and upon the strength uf this accommodation of wealth and its purtner in trade, respectability, my lather set us tho bunking house of Bugges, Rags, Carrydot, und Co. Of this firm Bugges was considered the foundation, Rags the financier, and Currydul the resident working junior. Co. was, as usual, a flourish ut tho end of the signature. —Illuminated Magazine. • A Sailor’s BRMtvaLuec**—It is so old figure. 4ivs sdage, and one lh« truth of which io every day illusltated, that “the book okovW not be taken by its cover.” We saw it eiwm|>Hicd yeetsrday, In a manner which cooelMaivolf ptwvod tho troth of the proverb. Passing along tho Levee, nearly fa front ofthe pub- lie aquare, we noticed^ crowd collected, and fnereafc- ing out near the river. We followed in the wake of others, and found » poor laboring man lying in excrucinting pain—Ihe effect of a confusion ht his body und limbs, caused by a hogshead of hardwuro rolling over him. There waa a great eympnthy expressed by the bystanders Dvr tha A ptouv looking individual advised that a clergyman be sent for ; another recommanded that he be taken to the Chanty Hospital in a cab, and offered a picayuno 10war is defraying the expense ; and a third talked of having him taken to an apothicary’s shop, to be hlod. But iiow was he to get there t This did not require long for deliberation, for an honest Tar, with a tar.ry trowsers and a taw-paalin hat, shoved his way into tho crowd, and crying out, “Bear a Imnd here, messmates—gently now," he at once sot about putting ihe wounded man on his back, and with the help of one or two others, having placed him there, lie sung out,"Belay there!" and-added, “Now, if there’s any hand here that knows the soundings in these waters, let him put his helm up for the doctor’s, nnd I’ll crowd sail after him— heave ahead!” and with this off he started with his burden on hie back, apparently determined to find out a doctor, whether lie was pilotted to one or not. This net was, indeed, characteristic of poor Jack, who, while hu uppears utterly regardless of his own com forts and recklessness of his own privations, is sensitively alive lo the wants and misfortunes of olhcis, when it is within his power lo relieve them. And though his eye nev.r blinks to danger, nnd his heart never throbs to fear, both are susceptible ofthe quickest and most sensitive emotions when distress or suffering makes to them an appeal. How long the unfortunate sufferer might have been left lo writhe in pain, had not the promtitude of Jack interposed, it ia hard to say. There wero some present who seemed so methodical that ivu believe they would move for the appointment of a committee of three to-make arrangements for his removal, as a preliminary step lo it. As the honest sailor “dialed" off his load we could not help exclaiming, " God bless poor Juck ; he knows how lo do a humane act without seeking any other approbation than what his own conscience bestows.”—N. O Pic. Important to the Ladies.—One of the first Parisian dyers is quoted as the authority for the following recept for cleaning silks : Quarter of a pound of soil soap, a leaspounful of brandy, a pint of gin, all well mixed together. With a sponge or flannel, spread Ihe mixture on each side ofthe silk without creasing it; wash it in two or three waters, and iron it on tite wrong side, it will look as good as new. True modesty blushes at every thing that L cri minal. False modesty is ashamed of every thing unfashionable. The Tongue.—There are but ten precepts of ihe law of God says Leighton, and two of them so fur concerns the outward organ and vent of the sins there forbidden, are bestowed on the longue (one in the first table, and the other in the second) —us though it were ready to fly out both against God and man if not thus bridled. Pilhtigorns used to say that a wound from the tongue is worse than a wound from the sword for the latter affects only, the body, the former the spirit—the soul. It wus tilt* remark of Anacharsis, that the tongue was at the same time the best part of man and his worst—llmt with good government none is more useful, and without it none more rnischievious. But rliaave, says Dr. Johnson was never soured by calumity, and detraction ;. nor ever though it neccssury to confute them, “For,” says he, ‘‘they are spurks, which if you do not blow them, they will go out of themselves - ”' We cannot, soya Cuto, control the evil*tongues of others, but a good life enables ustoduspisu them. Slander, snys Lacon, cannot make the subjects ofit cither better or worse. It may represent us inn false light, or place likenesses of us in a bal one. But we are tile same. Not so tho slander er—the slander that he utters makes Aim.worse, tho slandered never. No one says Jerome loves to lellhi tale of scan dal except to him who Iovob to hear it. Learn then to rehuko nnd check '.he detracting tongue, by showing that you do not listen to it with pleusure. No ouu secs the wallet on his back, says tlio old proverb, alluding to the fable of the traveller with two packs, the one before stuffed with thu faults of Ins neighbors—the one behind with his own. It was the maxim of Eutripides either to keep ilrncc or lo speak something belter than silence. —New York Observer. Fatal and Romantic Incident.—A most dis tressing; arid melancholy tragedy occurred in Wil. cox county, Alabama, on Saturday, the 14th inst,, the particulars of which, as far as published, wo find in the following extract of a letter lo the Mo bile Herald : W. W. Rives, Esq., a young and promising law. yor, was killed by Dr. Tail, under the following circumstances : Young Rives Imd sought and won the affections nf the sister of Dr. Tail, but Ihe marriace wns strenuously opposed by some of the young Indy’s family. Last Saturday was, however, fixed for the wedding day ; und early in the morning. Mr. Rives, accompanied by a friend, rode lo the liou.o of liis intended bride. As he was entering tho house hu was met, in apparently a cordial manner, by young Dr. Tail, who requested him to tako u short walk, as he wished to have a private conver sation. They went a short distance from the house, and in a few minutes the report of a pistol was heard, and Mr. Rives seen coming towards tho house, shot mortally in the abdomen. I forbear to give the minute details of the fulal rencontre,us told by Rives before his death. Ho lingered about two days, and gave full particulars oi the homicide ; but as Dr. T. will doubtless be taken, uud a judicial investigation bring all the facts •o light, 1 think it best lo forego the melancholy re cital. Dr. Tail lias fled, but he cannot escape the vigilance of justice. He is well known—was for- meriy assistant surgeon in the United States Navy —is a man of great wealth, and heretofore has stood high in the community. Mr. Rives was a most worthy young man. The young lady evinced her devotion to him. by marry, ing him whilst on liis death-bed, and, while lie lived, gave those ministering attentions which none hut tlie Imnd uf affectionate woman can bestuw. The letter udds : The ubove is hut a meagre sketch of one of (lie most sad and romantic events 1 ever heard of.— There are incidents connected with the whole uf. fair of the most singular kind. From all l can . learn, it was a cowardly, premeditated murder.— Tail first bent Rives with a stick—Rives look it from him, and then Tait shot him near the nevul with a revolver. The bride ia young, luvely, wealthy, and ardent in her feelings. Rives wns wealthy, and, it is said, was every way worthy the girl; but the mother and brother opposed, even af ter the father gave his reluctant consent. Gambling.—Let every young man avoid all sorts of gambling as he would poison. A poor man, or a boy, should never allow himself to toss up a penny, for a half of thia is often Ihe beginning of a habit of gambling, and this ruinous crime of- ten creeps on by degrees.—Whilst the laboring man is minding his work, be is playing tbe best game, and is sure to win. A gambler never mukes any good use of his money, even if he should win, he openly gambles the more, and he is often re duced to beggary and despair. He is often tempt, ed to commit crimen for which hit life ie forfeited to his country, or perhaps he puts an end to him self, and to his miserable existence. If he wins, he injures a companion, or • friend. And Iiow can any honest msn enjoy money gained in such a way 7 No Doubt.—An advertisement of cheep shoes snd fancy articles, in an sxchangs paper has the following note bane i “ N. B.—Ladies wishing those cheap shoe*, will do well to call soon, as they will not last hog.