Am crirau WSUk 0 a In ntcer.
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i
VOL. 48.
AMERICAN VOLUNTEER.
EVERT THCRSDAT HORNING BT
A^ljomxb.hraxxom.
fw *< - teHs.
Sttbrciuption.— and Fifty Cents, paid
Dollars if,paid within ; tho. year;
Dollars and Fifty notjTaid within
.ifißWoar.. These terms wiirho rigidly adhered to in
instance. No subscription diseontiffifod* tmt.il,
PjSll&rreftragos arc paid unless', at tfio, opWu of the
/iggiftbn. '
exceeding,' one square', will bo inserted .tarco
jsjStnucs for One Dokla^pand for oaou
iTfeoso of ,«lgt^W^ n gm in
ipldrtejj:'• ‘-V %sy f'
If & Joß^PnrNTiNO—Sael^WH^tor»^>^Bt^g-bul9,
r ‘Blanks, executed with
' ‘ accuracy and at the -
by samce!
AU thoughts* all passions; all delights, *
Whatever stirs tliis mortal frame,
£ll arc but ministers of lovo,
. All feed his sacred flame,
Oft in my waking dreams do I
Tiivo o'er again that happy hour,'
When midway on the mount I lay,
Beside the ruined tower,
The moonshinp'stbalihg o’er the scone,
Had.lilctidtd with the lights of eve,
And she was there, my hope, my joy.
My.own dear Genevieve.
She loaned against the armed man,
Tho,Btfttuo Of the armed knight,
She stood anti listened to my lay,
. Amid the lingering light.
Few sorrows hath she of her own,
My hope !my joy! my Genevieve !
She loves mo best whon’or I sing
• The songs that make her grieve'.
X played a soft and doleful air,
I sang an old and moving story,
An old, 'rode, song that suited well
That rain wild and hoary.
sho listened with a Hitting blush,:
-With downcast eyes and modest grace ;
For well she knew I oould not choose
But gaze upon her face.
* I told her of the knight that wore
Upon his shield a burning brand;
• And that for ten long years bo wooed
The lady of the land.
X told ho pined; and oh!
The!.deep, the low, the pleading tone
With which I sang another’s love
Interpreted ray own.
She listened with a flitting blush,
With downcast byes and»modost grace;
And she forgave mo that I gazed .
. Too fondly on her face ! • •
But when T told the ornol soorn,, v ,
' That crazed that bold and lovely knight,
And that ho crossed the mountain woods,
Nor rested day or night;.
That, soinctimes from the savage don,
And sometimes from tho darksome shade,
And sometimes starting up at onoo
In green and sunny glade—l
There came and looked him in tho face
■ An angel beautiful and bright,-
And that ho knew, it was a fiend,
This miserable kuight!
And that unknowing what be did,.
Ho leaped amid the murderous band, •
And saved from outrage worse than death
The Lady of the Land—‘
And how she wept and clasped bis knees ;
And bow she tended him in vain, .
And over strove to expiato
Tbo soorn that crazed his brain—
And that she nursed him in o cavej
And bow his madness wont away.
When on the yellow forest loaves
A dying man ho lay—
His dying words—but when I reached
That tendorost strain of all the ditty,
My faltering voice and pausing harp
Histurbcd her soul with pity 1,
All impulses of soul or sense
Had thrilled my guileless Genevieve,
The music and. the doleful tale,
The rich and balmy ovo j
And hopes, and fears that kindle hope,
An undistingnishablo throng,
And gentle wishes long subdued,
Subdued and cherished long! .
She wept with pity and delight.
She blushed with love, and Virgin shame j
And, like the murmur of a dream,
I hoard her breathe my name.
Her bosom heaved—she stopped aside,
And conscious of ray look she stopped—
Then suddenly, with timorous eye,
She ilod to mo and wept.
She half, oncloscd mo in her arras,
She pressed mo with a meek embrace, f
And bonding back her head looked up,
And gazed upon ray face.
*Twas partly love and partly fear
And partly ’twas a bashful art.
That 1 might rather feel and see
The swelling of her heart.
I calmed her fears and she yvas calm,'
And told her love with Virgin pride |
And so I won my Genevieve,
My bright and beauteous bride.
Miracle of Honesty. —At a party one
evening, several contested the honor of hav
ing done the most extraordinary thing, and a
reverend gentleman vena appointed sole judge
of. their respective pretensions. ,
One party produced his tailor’s bill with a
receipt attached to it. A buzz went through
the room that this could not be outdone, when
a second proved that he arrested his tailor for
money loaned him.
“The palm is his,” was the general cry
but a third put in his claim.
. tleinoii, ’ said he, 1 ‘ I cannot boast of
the feats of either of my predecessors, but I
returned to the owners two umbrellas that
they loft at my house.”
1 11 hoar no more,” cried the astonished
arbitrator; this is the very ne plus ultra of
honesty and unheard of deeds; it is an not
of virtue of which I never knew one capable.”
that ano^er > I’ve done more than
”butest\r’it B ” id th 6 Wh ° le °° m P an y’
oi,Eni hen . ? ou ? ouU between two words
idiomatic? s 'ehew fi'no°w™rfs wTufd
roses on'your ShoSk! ° Le^s^s^henl"^
and shortest words that will cramm»fli n n 1
wid gracefully express our meaning. a
FATHER EUSTACIO.
In one of tho most beautiful provisoes of-
Portugitl stands a convent, in itself an object
of beauty froni its exquisit'architecture, and
rendered doubly attractive from the almost
unequalled lovliness of its situation. Let
the imagination revel amid groves of orange
trees, laden, at once with fruit, flower, and
perfume—amid tracks of the dark olive and
pine, relieved by tho fragrant and lively foli
age of the'myrtle and geranium—alleys of
lemons and citrons, bowers of roses, and springs
and rills of tho coolest and freshest water,
holding Nature’s own .mirror to the clinging
tufts of violets and wild lilies .whichblossom
spontaneously oh their margin—let it do all
this,' and yet it will sonrcely trace on its own
tablet the luxuriant landscape. On tho south
ern" side of tho convent, ■ beneath a hill, gay
with'its belt of timber and its laughing vine
yard, stood, the Quinta d’as Lagfamas ; but 1
am premature in thus designating it—the
mime of thh “Villa'of Tears’’ > was given to it
(iftor that of which .I ant, about to tell had fa-,.
Mg-mldde. ' :
jJ“lirtlifa convent dwelt the mysterious Father
phidfncio. The monastic robe of white
bin tnll and graceful f'—
'ljetfet suited to the regal, puip
ph his .head was shaven ; but the raven curls
clustered richly round a brow high and smooth
as marble, and the-dark fiery eye, and the
scornful smile which discovered teeth like
eastern pearls, yet told of a world ho had
vowed to renounce forever. Ho wits' a Span-,
iard—-the brotherhood themselves know no
more; ho'liad made rich offerings at the shrine
of,the patron saint of their order; ho had
broken the weapon which he wore at his arri
val on .the the altar, and trampled
his dark plume Beneath his feet on the thresh
old ; he had withdrawn a rich jewel from his
neck, and laid it at the fept of the Madonna
(Nossa Sonora da piedade); and .ho had finally
taken she vows of the order, and became,
to,:appoarance,, like the rest of the community
—a mere creature of mechanism and habit.
But no one followed Eustaoio to his narrow
cell—no ear dronk in the low sounds which
escaped from his overcharged spirit in his
solitude—no eye behold the contempt with
which ho hurled from him the effeminate hab
it of the brotherhood—none looked on him in
his paroxysms of emotion, when, with|clenched
hands, fixed leeth, and starting eyeballs, ho
stood, in the midst of his confined nppartment,
like a thing of stone, and then sprang, as it
wore,.into life so suddenly, that every nerve
quivered, and every vein swelled almost to
bursting; when his heart heaved as though
he had m.tspaoo even for existence in his nar
row prison, and his hand instinctively sought
V *l.
to grasp a weapon which he wore no longer,
and then fell listlessly at his side. None
heard the soul-fraught groan that followed ns
he sank down with Ins-,face buried in his
sprosd palms, and spent the night gazing un
consciously at the dim lump that lit up the
misshappen altar, the rude crucifix, and the
grinning skull, "which wore the furniture of
his'ccll.
It wns/fho festival of thoir patron saint, ixivl
one of the brotherhood watched by, his shrine
all night. Eustacip won permission from the
prior to be that one; and the vesper was
chanted, and the twilight mass said, and the
monks uttered their orisons at the shrino, and
departed, and Eustacio was alqno. lie looked
around him and smiled. There was a taper
dimly lighting up the figure of the saint; and
the holy lamp, which is never extinguished,
at the altar of the Sacramento, shod its faint
light over a limited space, and loft tho-rost of
.the vast odifico in darkness. No sound was
there save the fall of his own footstep as he
strode through the murky aisle. Twice had
he traversed it and returned to the shrine he
watched; a third time ho paced its solemn
length and approached the altar; but now ho
started, and the blood sprang to his brow,
while he passed his hand over his eyes, ques
tioning the evidence they gave him. Kneel
ing there, with her veil thrown back, and
disclosing her pure and pallid beauty, was a
female, whoso mantle of sable velvet fell
around her in largo and heavy folds’; jewels
wore in her hair and on her arms, atid the
very missal in her small hand was clasped
with a rich gem. Her lips moved noiselessly,
aiid she seemed so absorbed in her .devotions
that she had not heard his-approach. Eusta
oio stood like one entranced—a thousand rec
ollections pressed upon his spirit—his dark
dark eyes flashed fire—his breast heaved
yet lie stirred not. The prayer was ended,
the lady rose to depart, and- started on dis
covering the monk. Eustacio gazed upon
her ns her features wore fnlly fecoalod by the
taper which burnt before the shrine of the
saint. She was beautiful; but it was a proud,
pale beauty, which sorrow seemed to bo wast
ing, though it had failed to destroy. Her
form was slight and graceful as the sweep of
the river willow. Something that lady road
in the countenance whereon she gazed, which
forbade fear for in an instant she stood calm
ly and almost proudly before him. The monk
remained like a statue riveted to the spot.
“Holy father I” she commenced, in atone
so rich and deep that it died away down the
long aisle of the chapel, like the last note of
the vesper organ.
“Scarce saint enough for tho first, nor rev
erend enough for the second, lady]” murmur
ed the monk, as though he brooked not the
address from such lips; aid tho dark eye
flashed, and tho rich blood man ted in the
proud brow, “add yet other epithets become
me not, even from beauty."
There was questioning in the look which
was turned on him as ho spoke, but ho replied
not to it,, stive by casting still farther back the
cowl which had partially shaded his face, and
erecting his fine person yet moreloftly. But
there needed not words to toll tho heart of
tho lady that it was possible even yet to for
got tho cowl and rosary, and to look on him
as a man, not ns a monk. Passion was there
in tho eye and on the lip —passion of tho
world’s birth, which tho chill of the cloister
hud failed to displace; and there, was pride
in tho heaving of tho serge-clad chest, and
the dilation of the enveloped figure—oven in
the grasp of the finely-formed whit hand,
which drew more, gracefully together the
folds of the coarse habit. For all this one
glance suffered. Never had tho lady looked
on such a face and form within those walls—
never on any with tho feeling which now
pressed upon her heart. Slowly and silently
she drew from her boson a small golden key,
and, adjusting it to a concealed look in nn or
namental panel of tho shrine, a narrow door
fell back, and, raisingalamp from tho ground,
she turned one long, fixed look on tho monk,
and retreated, closing the door as she with
drew. Long stood Eustacio gazing after her,
nsllioughliodi'eaihod'tlmtaliowtTuldre-ap- -
pear; hut she came no more that night.
Thenceforward tho piety of Father Eusta
ohio became a preverb among tho brotherhood.
His nights wore no longer spent in sloop; ho
kept holy vigils when tho world was buried
in slumber. There was something in the de
parting look of the mysterious visitant of the
chapel which assured him that she wont not ■
forever, and tho assurance was verified.—- '
Night after night she trod tho secret passage
from her own sunny homo to tho convent
shrine ;,and Eustachio heard her talo of sor
row ; and she breathed it as she sat on the
marble step of tho altar whoro they had first
met; and the hand of the monk wiped away
the few large drops which fell ns sho murmur
ed it in his car. It was a simple and a sad tale.
Her father had vowed her to a hated union,
and she pined in soul, while she won, by sup
plication, frequent but short delays. Then
came tho name of her hated suitor, and the
bowled listener started from her side, and
clenched his hands, and ground his teeth, as
ho murmured oqt—
“’Tfa ho! 'tis he !—the murderoy of my
sister—the hunted one of my hate/whora I
pursued till my soul sickened that T found
him not, and in dispair vowcd.itsolf away in
a cloister, that it might moulder in to inanity,
and forgot. But think not that I have forgot
ten, Hearken to mo, Inez”—and ho drew
towards lus agitated listnor, who had already
risen and stood before him—“hearken to me;
I could not forgot! The call, tho cowl and
the cloister—they are not tho anodynes I
madly thought thorn—they bring no Loth—l
un still Adrian, Duke of——while I strive
tlio dead Carlotta, while I thought only to
throw off the world and the world’s ties.—
Daro not to marry him ! Listen to but one
vow from his polluting lips, and tho curse of
thy crime be on, thee ! lilood is there upon
his hand, though he may stretch it to thee in
gentleness—poison in his' breath, though it
may syllable passion. , lie was tho husband
of my sister: she passed away, and none
knew where or how ;-but many whispered—
piurder.! Think you not that I pursued him?
Ay, as a hunted door, he fled -from place to
place, and I was over at liis heels: —alas, too
late! Then mark me, Inez I for X can but
breathe it in a whisper—he sought to rid him
self of so tenacious a pursuer, so bitter ah en
emy, and he poured his subtle poison into
tho ears of one in power, and I was pro
claimed—a traitor. Tho blow was strek—
my sister,. my revenge, all wore forgotten—
my proud name became a reproach—my hon
ors were bowed to, the dust. Look at yonder
sparkling cress, pendant from tho nock of the
Mndona ; little deemed I, wheri.l knelt to re
ceive that boon, that the giver, in his blind
belief or an. enemy, would so soon , oast me
forth to, shame and obloquy! . I .uttered no
justification—to be suspected was enough ;
but I came hither—oamo to forgot mysolfto
stone—to bo a man no longer—to bo,a monk
—and lam one ! The convent rings With my
piety: the blind crowd, who looked on me,
hold mo as a thing too holy for this world.
I am.,pointed at as a pattern, made the depos
itory of tho sin of others,'and hold to bb too
pure to siii myself; but it is not so,” and the.
deep voice grow yet deeper—“tho very !
thought of crime has roused' me from my
lethargy—tho very thought of him whom
have sworn to sacrifice. l I have vowed ;the
dagger; X have hunted him to his lair, and
now I can-strike it even to his heart's centrel“
„.“ Adna r\A JRuB 1” .03 wj;mured thej^dy.
“Either name is dear from thy lips,” said
the cowled noble, “though the one is sullied
by calumny, and the othcr.is but a mockery.
But hark I Inez, they have rung in the dawn;
the drones arc about to shake off tlioir drow
siness, and live on till’another day. in their
apathy; till tomorrow, then, farewell 1“
“Farewell!”. echoed Inez, as ho strained,
her to his heart, , and ore many moments she
had disappeared. The officiating monk had
sleepily entered, the chapel to feed the lamp
at the altar of the Sacramento, and Father
Eustacio was prostate before the shrine of the
saint, •
Weeks passed, and still at intervals the no
ble monk and the gentle Inez met when tho
world slept ; hut the spirit of the Duke pant
ed for vengeance on his enemy, and. it came
at InSt.
It was on a lovely, midnight, when tho
lands ciipo was flooded with tho light, and
the sparkling stars flashed out of the clear
heavens like diamond - studs scattered over a
robe of purple, that tho monk wandered from
the convent garden to tlic grounds of the ad
joining qujnta. For awhile ho passed on,
gazing as lie went on the white clusters of the
cle,matis and the richer blossoms of the-pome
granate, as. they disclosed thoir.libanty't6 tho
moon, and thought of Inez ; .hut ore long came
wilder visions, and ho remembered his sister,
who was murdered in her lovolincs, and on
whoso grave no eye had rested. Then came tho
memory of her husband, of the murderer!
and lie looked up to the moon as she rode in
light, and then down nn the dark shadow cast
along the earth by the wooded, height which
bounded the landscape. He filt that he
stood there a dishonored man and an alien—
lie felt that ho was loved oven in lis evil for
tune, and that his enemy had again crossed
his path. Ho struck his hand forcibly on
his breast, and it caino in contact with the
hilt of his dngor; the monk smiled —the
world had seldom looked on a smile like
that with which he drew it forth. Ho cast
back his clinging robe, ho fetched one long,
deep breath ; there was fire at his heart alio'
in Ins brain: and he hurried on. There had
been feasting in that place of beauty, and the
guests wore vet awake.
He approached the house; and avenue of
of oitron trees threw lip their rich perfume to
the sky,, and darkened the space • beneath
them, He hastened to that spot of gloom ;
but it had other occupants. Ho heard'the
voice of Inez ; trombliug and tearfully she
spoke, and entreaty quivered on her tongue.
Other accents he hoard also—the accents of
his enemy 1 For a moment lie pansod silently
and sternly, and then ho sprang convulsively
forward and stood before them. There was
a faint scream—the scream of a woman ; hut
the revelers hoard it not. Then came louder
and longer sounds s names wore shouted, and
imprecations follow them ; there was a strug
gle, a wrestling for life ; hut Inez in her ago
ny stirred not a limb. The loud laughter of
her fa'Jier’s guests came fitfully on the night
breeze like tho rejoicings of observant fiends.
Light was around them—tho pure light o(
the silver moon—hut they stood bn a spot of
darkness 1 Tho struggle was brief, yet to
Inez ifsenmod to have lasted years; one of
tho combatants staggered and fell heavily
against tho trunk of a oitron tree, and the
white blossoms showered on him as lie sank
down blooding and sonsoiess ; then came tho
deep tones of the monk upon her ear, as ho
laughed out his triumph and struggled for a
moment ere he fell prostrate beneath his ene
my.
Tho moon bowed her silver brow to the
comim'dawn, and the blossoms scattered fresh
sweetness to the morning breozo ; the rev-d
-ors shook" off' the sloop, arid'
came forth to gladden their oppressed ener
gies by tho freshness of nature,. One among
them entered tho avenue of citrons—two lay
dead before him, tho affianced noble and tho
holy monk , and a third was there ; she look
ed up and pointed with stern eye and steady
finger to the corpse of the cowled combatant
—it was the Indy Inez. Her hair was damp
with the night dew, and her lips livid and
“ OUR COUNTRY—MAY IT ALWAYS BE RIOIIT—BUT, 1 RIGHT OR WRONG,, OUR COUNTRY.”
CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, DECEMB.
“ In so just a war, which.-wo liovo not pro
voked by any act, by any pretense, the true
cause of which it would bo impossible to as
sign, and whore we the orilytaUo arms to; de
fend ourselves, we depend; entirely upon the
support, of the laws, and upon that of the
people,, whom circumstances call upon to
give fresh proofs of .their. devotion and cour
ago.” '.-i-;..
Placing himself at the head of his army,
by a series of skillful mansouvers, ho throw
his whole force into the roatopf the Prussians,
cutting -them oft’ from their-, supplies, and
from all possibility of retreat. Being thus
sure, of .victory; he wrote as, follows to the.
King of Prussia: V, ,
. Sib, my BaoxnEn—l am in the heart of
Saxony.. My strength is Siich that your
forces cannot balance the yjotory. But why
shod so much blood? AVhy iipake our subjects
slay each other ? I do not prUe victory pur
chased by the lives of so many of my children.
If I wore just commehcing ; my military ca
reer,’ and if I had any reason to fear the
chances of war, this langunjitiwould bo whol
ly misplaced. ’.Sire,’ your.V.jnajesty will .be
vanquished.- At present, are uninjured,
and may treat With mo in Wfetanner .comfor
table with'your rank. -month is
fussed, ymi,.will tv--.it ia.■ pbfiilleh.■
am aware that in thus wrv>A> I may irri
tate that sensibility, which naturally belongs
to every sovereign. But circumstances de
mand that I should use no concealment. I
implore your majesty to view in this letter,
nothing hut the dosifo I have to spare the
effusion of human blood. Siro,' my brother,
I pray God that lie may have you. in Ilis
worthy and Holy keeping.*’,
k To.this letter no reply was returned. In
two days from this time the advance guard of
the French .mot tho Prussians, strongly en
trenched upon the plains of Jona and Auor
stadt. It was tho evening of tho Ijith of Oc
tober. The sun was just sinking with unusu
al brilliancy behind the Western hills. When
the proud array of, tho Prussians, mdro than
one hundeod thousand strong, appeared, in
sight. Three hundred pieces- of artillery
wore-concentrated in batteries, and a squad
ron of.eighteen thousand cavalry, splendidly
caparisoned and with burnished nrpior, Wore
drawn up upon the plain.
Napoleon immediately took possession of
tho Landgrefenborg, a steep, craggy hill,
which, tho Prussians had supposed inacces
sible to artillery, and from whose summit the
long lines of the. Prussians, extending many
leagues, could bo clearly, discerned. ’ As the
glonurof night settled down, tlio bliize of the
Prussian campfires,'extending over li space j
of eighteen miles, illuminated the scone with
an almost unearthly glow,
Couriers wore despatched to hasten on tho bat
talions of tho French army. To encourage
the men, Napoleon, with his o.vn, hands,
labored through tho night in blasting tho
rocks and clearing the way that lie might
plant a battery upon the brow of tho Land
grafenberg. As brigade aftor.brigade arrived
they took the position assigned them by
their experienced chieftain. Suult and Ncy
wore ordered to march all night to a distant
point, .to Cut oft the retreat of tho onbmy. To
wards morning, Napoleon threw himself upon
the bleak hillside to chare for an hour the
frigid bivouac of the soldiers. ■
.. At 4 o’clock ho was again on horseback.
A dense fog covered the plain,—shrouding
the sleeping host. Under cover of this dark
ness, Napoleon ranged his troops in battle ar
ray. Enthusiastic shouts greeted him as ho
rode along the lines. After G o’clock, the
fog still unbroken, the order was given to
pieree the Prussian linos in every direction.
For eight hours the battle raged with a fury
never before or since surpassed; The ground
was covered with the dead; the shrieks of
the wounded, trampled beneath the hoofs of
charging squadrons, rose above the thunder
of the battle. . About 1 o’clock, P. SI., the
;Prussian General sent the following frantic
despatch to the reserve:—
“Lose not a moment in advancing your
yet unbroken troops. Arrange your columns
so that through their openings there may
pass the still unbroken bands of the battle,
lie ready to receive the charges of the enemy’s
cavalry, which, in the most furious manner,
rides on, overwhelms and sabres the fugitives,
and has driven into one confused mass, the
infantry and cavalry.”
The Prussian reserve, twenty thousand
strong witlvunbrokon front, now entered the
field, and for a moment seemed to arrest the
tide of victory. Napoleon stood at the head
of the Imperial Guard, which ho had held in
reserve as hour after hour, ho had watched
and guided the terrible fight, “A young
soldier, impatient of this delay, at last, in the
excess of his excitement, shouted “Forward
Forward!” Napoleon turned slowly to him
and said:
11 Hmv now! “What beardless boy is this,
who ventures to counsel his -Emperor ? Lot
him wait until ho has commanded in thirty
pitched batteries, before lio'pfofferS“hi.r~ad--
vloo.”
It was now 4 o'clock. The decisive mo
mont had arrived. Murat, at the head of
twelve thousand horsemen, fresh, and in per
fect array, swept down upon the plain, as
with earthquake roar, charging tho bewilder
ed, exhausted, bleeding ,host, and ma few
minutes tho work was done; tho Prussian
army was destroyed, bike an inundation the
compressed. One glance siifiicod—horror had
boon busy ■with her—she vyas a maniac!
Pew heard the tale: the holy brotherhood
boro away their dead; the Count consigned
his fellow noble to a sliest'-.grave, and of Ins
daughter no one Knew mOi'o. The peasant,
ns ho passes the forsaken pile, doffs his cap
while no hastily mutters A, pater and-an Ave,
and hurries on his muld?- from the Quinta
d’as Lagrimas. , '
JENA AND ADERiVTADA.
, nr JOHN s. ABBOTT.
In the year 1806, Engtead, Russia and
Prussia formed andwoolilthh against Franco.
Prussia commenced the campaign by invad
ing Saxony with an arm#lof t 200,000 men
under the command of I&edenek William,
the Prussian King. of Russia,
with an equal army, was pressing down
through the wilds of Poland, to unite in the
march upon Paris. Englandco-oporatedwith
her invincible fleet, and with profuse expen
ditures from her inexhaustible treasury.
The Emperor was greatly* provoked by this
'ifu [TrovtMccir , ..
plans for developing the industrial resources
of Franco. He shut himself up for forty
oTght hoursto arrange the details of the canir
paijrn; and immediately dictated two hun
dred letters, all of which .still remain the
monument of his sagacity .and energy. In
six days the whole imperial puard was trans
ported from Paris to the Rlnno. They trav
elled by post sixty miles a day. On the24th
of September, Napoleon, nt ; fniduight, enter
ed his carriage at the Tuillerios, to join the
army. His. parting wordau to tho Senate
were: • "i-
;R 19, 1861.
fugitives rushed from the field,. ploughed
by the batteries of Napoleon, and trampled
beneath the tread of his resistless cavalry. ■
While this scene was transpiring on the
plains of Jena, another division of the Prus
sian army was encountering n similar disas
ter on the field of Auerstadt, twelve miles dis
tant. As the fugitives of both armies were
driven together in their flight, in confusion
and dismay unparalled, horsemen, footmen,
wagons and artillery, in densost.;and wildest
entanglement, there was rained down upon
them the most terrible storm of balls, bullets
and shells. "
Night came at length. But broughtno re
lief to the vanquished,, The pitiless pursuit
was uninterrupted. In Whatever direction
the shattered columns tied, they were met by
the troops which Napoleon had sent anticipa
ting the movement; , Thokinghimsolfnarrow
ly escaped; capture during the rout of that
terrible night. Accompanied by a few com
panions on horseback, ho leaped hedges and
fences, and plunged through forests and fields,
until ho reached a place of safety. The Prus
sians lost in this one disastorous fight twenty
thousand in killed and wounded, while twen
ty thousand more wore taken prisoners,
..bLn-q-nvoi
so much skill in the following up a victory ns
Napoleon. In less than fourteen days every
rommlnt of the Prussian army was taken,and all
the fortresses of Prussia wore in the hands.of
the French. The king, a wod-'striokon fugi
tive, driven from his realms, fled for refuge
to the aftny of Alexander. .Never before in
the history of the world was so formidable
d power so speedily arid utterly’ annihilated.
But one innnth.had now elapsed sinoo Na
poleon left Paris. An army of two hundred
thousand men, in thorough discipline and
drill, had, in that time, been either killed,
taken prisoners, or dispersed. Not a hostile
regiment remained. A largo number of for
tresses, strengthened by the labor of ages,
and which had been deemed impregnable,
had fallen into the hands of the victor, and
he was reposing in security in Berlin, in the
palace of Frederick the Groat. The story of
this wpndoful achievement passed oyer Europe
like the wonders of an Arabian talc, exciting
universal amazement. “In assailing this
man,” said the Emperor Alexander, “ wo are
buit children attacking a giant;” . ‘ '
. An 1812 War ; Storv. —This following, we
believe, baa nover seen print, Ogden Hoff
man used to, tell the story.' lie was in the
great fight between the Constitution and the
Guerriere, and said that as the British ship
came sailing down on them, as they board the
sharp orders, when the guns wore run out
and the men " could be, soon ready with their
match-looks, an officer came in haste to Cap
tain Isaac Hull, and asked for orders to fire .
“Not yet,” was the quiet response. As they"
came still nearer, and the British vessel poured
in her fire, the first lieutenant of the Consti
tution came on the poop and begged permiss
ion to return the broadside, saying that the
men could not he restrained much longer.■—
, .tiNnt.yvtVA’vm dh,ooindiffewnfc.reply t v,S,tiU
nearer the British ship came, and the Amor
, lean prisoners, who were in the cook-pit of
. the Guerriere, afterwards said that they began
to believe that thoir own countrymen wore
afraid to measure their strength with that of
the enemy, and this thought gave them more
pain than the wounds which some of them |
wore still suffering from.
In a moment after the Guerriere rode gal
lantly forward, showing her burnished sides;
and as the swell carried her close to the very
muzzle of “Old Ironsides,” Captain Hull, who
was then quite fat and dressed in full tights,
bent himself twice to the dock, and with ev
ery muscle and vein throbbing with excite
ment, shouted out as ho made another gyra
tion, “Now, boys, pour it into them.” That
broadside settled their opponent, and . when
the smoko cleared away the Commodore’s
tights wore to bo seen split from waistband
to heel. Truly the Commodore had a soul
“too big for his brooches." Hoffman used to
add, that Hull, nothing disconcerted, gave his
orders with perfect coolness, and only changed
his tights when the British commander's
sword'wus given up to him
TiiE LtDm.E Pn.vcK Doxy.—“Ohon, you
reoklemember dat liddlo plaok boney I pyod
mit do bcdlar next veak?”
“ Yah : vot of him ?”
“ Netting, only I gits shoatod biirdy pad.”
"So?”
“ Yah. You aoe, in do vurst biape he iah
blind mit bote logs, und ferry lame mit von
eye. Don von you git on him to rite ho rares
up pohint unt kicks up pefore so vusor as a
chaokmule. I dinks I dake him a liddle rite
yiadortay, tint so sooner I gits strattlo his
back he gommonoe to hoist up, shust so like a
vakin poam on a poatstoam ; und von ho gits
tone I was so mixt up mit eferydings I vinds
minesolf zittin arbuut paekvards, vit his dail
in mine-hants vor do pridlo.”
“ Veil, viit you going do to mit him ?”
“Oh,. I vix him potter as chain up. I
itoh him in do cart mit his dail varo his
heat ought to po; den gifo him npout two
dozen out mit de hiteoow ; ho starts to go put
so soon ho see de cart poforo him ho makes
paokwart. Burty soon ho stumbles bohint,
und sits town on his haunches, und looks like
ho„veol burty shamped mit himself. Don I
dake him out, hitch him in do right vay, unt
ho goes off shust so good as anypody’s bony.
Matrimonv, avd Happiness. —Sain Slick,
in his “ Wise Saws,” say that tho nature of
matrimony is one thing, and the nature of
friendship is another. A tall'man likes a
short wife ; a great talker a silent woman,
for both can’t talk at once. A gay man likes
a domestic woman, for ho oan leave her at
once to nurse children and got dinner, while
ho is enjoying himself at parties. A man
that hasn’t any music in him likes it in his
spouse, and so on. It chimes beautifully, for
they ain't in each other’s way. Wow, friend
ship is the other way; you must like tho
same in each' other, and bo good friends. A
similarity ot tastes, studios, pursuits, and rec
reations, {what they call congenial souls,) a
toper for a toper, a smoker for a smoker a I
horse-racer for a horso-raoor, h prize-fighter I
for a prise-fighter, and so on, Matrimony
likes contrast; friendship seeks its own coun
tetparts.
Honev and Butter. —The Key. Br M ■
was reputed for the suavity of Ins manners
and his cspocial politeness towards tho fair
sox Handing a dish of honey to a lady, at
a party in his house, ho said, in Ins wonted
manner, “do take a little honey, Miss rf
’tis so sweet—so like yoursolf.”
“Ah,' Mr. Muddie,” handing the butter
di«hto.thohosW3hc,cyc!aim_cd,J‘_Do_tidcna
little butter ’tis so like yoursolf!”
“ In what company is your life insured,
sir ?” asked a sprightly young miss.
“ In tho Hope.”
“ I prefer the Alliance,” said sbo blushing*
“•Then-we’ll make a joint-stock operation,
if you, choose,” said the delighted old bache
lor.
Tbe Man with the Bundle.
You have Burly, broad
shouldered, a little careless both in dress_ and
gait, as if conscientiously opposed to precision
of any kind; and his face, from the shining
curve of the smooth shaven chin to the gleam
of gold spectacles that sits astride his, nose,
beams with eshanstless good humor;, : About
5 P. M: is bis hour, when you can. generally
see him heading ns if homeward, and carry
ing thitherward a brown paper enveloped
parcel. Prorii long this fea
ture of his personality, we liau como to des
ignate his Otherwise nnonymousnoss as "the
man with the bundle.”
It may have been imagination on our part,
but ns we met him the other cold afternoon,
bis face seemed so absolutely radiant with
the boat of genial benevolence, that we
thought" the thermometer at the corner of
Milk street wont up two degrees ns he passed.
We determined to make an effort to know
more about bim. ,
To-day our desire was gratified. Turning
into Marsh’s to purchase the quill now be
tween our fingers—we can’t abide metallic
pens—who should bo standing at the counter,
eliwiinr.;vf. flip Uiima inwlqi.l Hip till nf~ n m!i!r~.
tn-miinjfca
'nificent writing case and a bargain fop. its
purohasg, but our radiant-faced friend. ,
. “ To. what address shall wo send this?”
said the clerk, with a tone indicating extreme
respect.
. “Nowhere,” responded the purchaser, “I
always carry my own bundles.”
“ Yes. sir; but this is heavy, and it will he
a pleasure to us to send it.”
“.Young man,” replied the other, “I al
ways love to take something homo at night
to show to my wife and children that I
haven’t forgotten them while at my business,
and I wouldn’t give a pin to make . anybody
a present, unless I carried it into the house
myself.- I began life by lugging about par
cels as a dry-goods man’s, boy, and many is
the weary mile of sidewalks I’.vo trudged to
carry a yard of ribbon or a paper of pins to
omobody too proud or too lazy to carry it for
tlnemsolvos. 1 haven’t forgot my old thoughts,
and what’s more, though times have changed
with me since then, lain’t ashamed to bo soon
iu the street with a bundle.” , i
“ Yes, sir, but this is heavy.”
“ No matter, I’m strong,” and out ho wont
with such a glow on his face, that one could
imagine, it lighted iip the now dim sidewalk,
rods ahead, ns a locomotive burner illumina
tes its track.
Another well-known street face passed him
in the door coming in. Purchasing a con
gress knife, the now comer said in,a sharp
and dictatorial tone, " send it to my house,
(No. fifteen hundred and somothing.Washing
ton street) immediately; ,1 will want it ns
soon as I get home.”
“Two different men,” suggested we r as
the clerk closed the door after him. ■
“ Very,” was the reply. “ Tho man with
the bundle is , the honest owner
of hundreds of thousands, and .there never
was m subscription'paper yet lluit didn't gob
his name (or something handsonid.Tho oth
er man failed last week, all there was of.
him to fail, is'nt worth his salt; but ho had
rather take tho commercial disgrace of a.fail
uro at any time, ■ than tho social disgrace of
being seen in tho streets with a bundle.”
' Two different men, indeed! We shall take
off our hat the next time we meet Mr. It
on the sidewalk, Dong may ho Jive and car
ry bundles to make people happy.— Congre
gah'onalist.
The New York correspondent of the Phil
adelphia Sunday DispafrJi mentions that
Gardner Furniss has gone insane, and been
sent to a mad house. The correspondent con
tinues :
Gardner Furniss has been sent to a mad
house ! Do you remember the, man 7 You
cannot have forgotten a soandclous flare-up
that took place hero at the St. Nicholas Hotel
two or three years ago, in; which a dandified
young man of tin's region so persecuted a
southern lady with whom he became inti
mate that she had to call for protection, in
the hotel, against personal violence. She was
a married lady of high respectability and
standing, but in some manner bad entered
into an “entangling alliance” "with this
yonng northern adventurer, who improved
the chance to deprive her of all her pocket
money, and when she had none loft, to take
her jewelry and clothing, by pawning which
to raise funds for himself. She came to Now
York, and ho pursued her. At last his con
duct became so unendurable that ■ she was
compelled to disclose her own shame, arid her
husband sent her to a private insane asylum
op Dong Island. Ho persecutor immediately
sued out a writ of habeas-corpu.i for her re
lease, which brought the whole case before
the public: when she was sent to her rela
tions in the South. That young northern
.gentleman was Gardner Furniss, and the
other day Justice Quackonhush, here, grant
ed an application on the part of a Dr. .1. V,
Dodine trt send this young fellow tothe Blnorri
ingdalo Insane Asylum. So much tor. his
career. Is it'not strange how justice milt
sometimes return “ the poisoned chalice ” to
the lip of the poisoner, though it seem an
event so wholly improbable ? '
Scene in A Sanctum.— .Kutorsalargostrong
man, with a cow-hidn in Ilia hand,
“Is the editor'in ?"
“ Ho is.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
“I have como to settle with yon.”
“ Well, (oditordraws a revolver) go ahead.”
“I have taken yonr paper now about a
year.”
“Well.” (Capping his pistol.)
“ An article in your last issuefeditor cooks
his pistol) has. convinced riio, sir, that —yon
—incod— " I
“ I deny yoiir right to give it—die cautious,
sir.”
Give yon vchat ?”
A thrashing.”
“ Why. no, my dear sir, I camo to pay in
advance for another year.”
Tho editor Trilled.
BC?”Tncitiia says; “In tho early ages man
lived a life of innocence and simplicity."—
Upon this ft critic remarks ;
“ When was tins period of Innocence?—
The first woman went astray, The very first
man that was born in the world killed tbo
second. When did the time of simplicity
begin?”
DT/* Lieut. li. A. Nelms, of Georgia, (a reb
el officer,) reported as filled at the Santa
Rosa fight, was a member of the Charleston
Contention, and a most devoted Union man.
Whpn twenty-six of the Georgia delegation
acceded from, the Convention, he was,
the- ten who refused to vacate their scats, but'
remained in the Convention to its close.
fiOiYB INSANE.
We seb' pride in ’ everybody but ourselves;
ET/ 5 " The greatbstdifficulty, that an artist has
in, drav ingCrowds is to get them to sit.
d£7“ Prosecution follows righteousness; tho
Scorpion-is next in succession to Libra. .
. To keep fish-from smelling—cut off their
noses. " '
Two can make love, but it takosthree to
make a wedding.
He who turns from evil does himself (T
good turn.-■
i (C 7” Don't marry an attorney; it must be
sad thing to bo bung to a limb of the law.
. 0"7“ Why is icd in a thaw like philanthro
py ?—Because it gives in all directions.
fiSy-Miss Jones soys she only wears crino
line for form's sake.
Persevere and you will prosper, he Up
right and you will bo esteemed.
iln.ee—
norant people are m discovering imaginary
offronts. - ■
JC7” “ Solitude" sweetened,” as tbo child,
said when ho was shat up in the cellar where"
there was plenty of molasses.
DC7* What word would give sorrow to tho.
mechanic and joy to "the prisoner ?—Discharg
ed.
O” Whatis that word of bnesyllable which
if the-first letters are taken from it, becomes
a word of two. syllables? Plague—Ague."
O” Why is a young lady just from hoard
school like a building committee ?-Because
she is ready to received proposals, . . • :
o”“Why did you retreat in the face of
the enemy?” “ You see sir, I have got a re
treating nose, and of course I have to follow
it.” ...
O’A Young lady shouldn’t bo Unhappy
because tihe isn’t quite as.tall os she would
like to he. It is a very easy thing to get
“ spliced.”
KT'D’lsrs -li, the English statesman and
writer, is said to bo completely hrofcon.down
in mind and body, by tho use of opium, and
is nearly imbecile. .
8®“96,998 barrels of coal oil have been
transported oyer the Pennsylvania Railroad
to an eastern market during the nine months
of the year ending September 30.
B®* Sara Slick says ho would rather break
a yoke of steers any day, than try to make rip
a . .quarrel between ..two, women when they
have got their dander up.
JrvF.N'nx Atbocitv. —“Aunty, I saw a
gentleman in the hotel reading-room busy
with two volumes at cnee,”
“ Why Charley how was that 7
“ He had a volume of Dickens in one hand,
and a volume of smoko a cornin’ out of his
mouth,”.
O’"Mr. Yanoy has made a lively scn»afion
in Paris, among Americans, by solemnly ad
vising a cotton speculator to “realize’’ with
out delay, for "in loss than sixty days Eng
land will recognize the Southern Confederacy,
and break up the blockade,” when, of course,
the- “price of cotton must fall.”
fl®" At an evening party in Huntindon,
Indiana, a few nights since, two young gen
tlemen who had boon very enthusiastic Wide
Awakes last , fall, but who refused to join »
company of volunteers for the war, were
seized by the young ladies, arrayed in petti-,
coats, and turned into the street. A fearful
warning. —Lafayette Journal,
Unwritten’Poetry.— ltis stamped upon ,
the broad blue sky,;—it twinkles in every star,
—it mingles in the ocean’s surge, and glit
ters in tho dew drop that gems the lily’s bell.
It glows in the gorgeous colors of tbo decline
of day, and rests in the-blackened crest of the
gathering storm-cloud’. It is in the moun
tain’s height and in the cataract’s roar, —in
the towering oak, and in the tiny flower. —
Whore we can sto the band of God, there • V
beauty finds her dwelling-place.
!T7~ Our friend Jemima Honcytops, is. a
queer creature. She’s forty, fair and fat.—
Says, sho’ll never get married—never. Says,
tlio.men arc ‘ brutes.’ The fact is, Jemima,
like somd others of her adorable sex, marked'
herself at too high figures in her youthful 1
days. Theconscquonoe was, the goods did’nt
soil. Tlioy’v-o since soured. Lot the fate of
Jemima bo a warning to nil young ladies.—
Don’t bo foolish, maidens, but become sensi
ble wives.
E®* Throe or four times a couple appear
ed beforo a clergyman for marriage; but the
bridegroom was drunk, and the reverend
gontiCmen refused to tie the knot. _ On the
last occasion he expressed his surprise that s
. respectable-looking girl was not ashamed-to
appear, at the'altar with' a man in sueh< s
state. The poor girl broke into tears, and’ •
said shecoula not help it. “ And why pray 7”
“ Keeaiiso, sir,'lie won't conio whon ho is so
ber,*’
I Bab-mEir Against BnoTiran. —Ontheooca'-
sion of the recent buttle at Beaufort, the
trite cnmmnn-plnceism about 1 brother being
arrayed against,brother ’ was literally reali
sed, Captain Porcivnl Drayton, of onr gun- 1
boat Pocahontas, and Brigadier General
Drayton, the the rebel forces on shore,
are brothers, but though the fire from tho bat
teries, was at times concentrated on tho Poca
hontas, and though tho Pocahontas took her -
share in tho battle with all possible fiery 010-’ -
qnonco, tho brothers are guiltless of fraternal
blood, for both escaped unhurt.
A Romantic Stokv.— Capt. Wilkes, the l
hero of the San Sacinto, years ago fell in love
with a pretty girl who consented to become
bis wife, but a rival, by poisoning the mind
of her parents against him, succeeded in 1
breaking off tbo match. The girl protested :
against accepting tho hand of her new lover,,,
but finally yielded to the wish of her parents,
and became his wife. Ycarspassed on, Capt.'
Wilkes remaining a batchelor, and the .next
Time ho meifTiis rival be was a prisoner onr'
board his ship, a traitor to his country and a
rebel against tho flag tho honest tar had ’
spent his life'in defending. That rival was '■
John Slidell, one of'the rebel ambassadors
recently arrested while (in their way to Eu
rope. 'There are many fictitious stones ef
romance-that have pot half the interest ns’
this.
■ -V-i-F 1 '
i . v -
0-t
NO. 28,