1 , 1 lin!o T ()WANDA: SaturbaD illorninv October 14, 1854. _ _ Stittitb Vottrt THE BRIDAL AND THE BURIAL. TIT JAMES NONTOONEAT Blessed is the bride whom the sun shines on; Blessed is the corpse which the rain rains on. I saw thee young and beautiful. I saw thee rich and gay ; In the first blush of womanhood, Upon thy wedding day ; The church-bells rang. And the little children sang— " Flowers, flowers, kiss her feet; Sweet to the sweet! The winter is past, the rain is gone. Blesssed is bride whom the sun shines on." saw thee poor and desolate. I saw the fade array, In broken-hearten widowhkod, . Before thy locks wee gray ; The death-bell rang. And the little children sang— Lilly's dress her winding sheet ; Sweets to the sweet! The summer's past, the sunshine's gone; Blessed is the corpse which the rain rains on." .Stitttt VIE 111014HCAs. . T:liz of 7tenzi? I= It wos in the month ol July, in the year 1:93, when a crowd of fugitives passed by the Loire to- wards Nantes. Lame botlida at troops had been Ft!rri to that place in cvlisequelice of the rising in La Vendee, which, although notentirely, surpress cd, were then kept within narrower bounds. The good natured inhabitants, hilt of compassion for the Venderms, did all in their poWer a-scage the FM • i r 1% • . of Lite uofur tatiate refugees. For ibis eompas towards the peasettned—a sin in the eyes of those in•irudiority—ihe inhabitants of :limited were n tw , "compelled to suffer. Itobespiervet, gree in power, seal thither a man every way adapted for the execiPtern of the m'Ost cruel and infamous awes sur-es Thik man was Carrier, who pot , sessedeer- Initily a talent for clime, and a truly diabolicallgai of invention for new tortures.' his a singular fact, that all the men of blood of •cliatiunhappy era were-distinguished by something 4410',.,i15e cm' d 1414-11;4 , 11 e4:l in their appearaneee..... and , abliough the tiger Marin deserved the prece dence, in being the " ugliest of the ugly," Carrier ctilits.tuare nest. fit person lie was short flira4re, 91 a iyellowish brown romplesion ; his titre heed low ; hot eyes were blood-shot arid squinting —his hair fell in stapes down his sunken cheeks, u hale his nose curved ;Joke tisebeak of a bird of prey . , and nearly met his projecting chin ; his voice harsh arid screeching Wlieu in anger, at other tiniea 11.1 t and niuntatiovA. soon as tins Monster ar rived at Nant ea, lieformed a band, it IA said of hundred assassins, and spread them over the city and the surrounding country, Elting the' prisons, - but soon again errip•ying them .>y eneane tit hie wholesale system of paying his issisianta libera4 for their services. Ilia nisi victimit were tire fugitives from La Vendee, and then the inhab itants of Nantee. lie who merely spoke tea royal ist was suspected-Lite•who showed pity at an exe calio,l was the same; uonil at Lam every rich man, every virtuous man, rvetf one who was conscien • tious or moderate in his opintonsi, was suspected and to be suspected ( was to be on die straight road to death. even Laymen and children were led be fore the reiodotionary tobtmal of this tyrint, and then sacrificed.. _ At the commencement, thesinhappy people were eciilotiucd .; but thissoorle of destroying Itfe seem• ed too slew for Carrier ; he 'therefore had whole masses shot at once. He also ordered boats to be built, with trap-doors ripening by means of ropes its their bottoms ; and, as soon as it else dark, ppis oners, in gangs in from one to two hundred in num ber, were distriliuted in these boats, and sowed away to the venire of the river, °limo sutler the im pression that they-were to receive their liberty. dud• denly the falling planks revealed to them the/ear ful truth, as with a shriek of agony they. aank' be - neath the waves. This the wroth -mockingly called the barisan od 'the republic. But - many were cast info the river " - without any such preparation as this, and the Loire in the vicinity of Nantes was soon tilled with corps. es. Thus, it often happened, that when boats wish ed-to cast anchor, they struck against the dead Everywhere birds of prey flocked to a disgusting meal, while the fishes were scipolluted by such food, that even the poorest persons could NM longer partake of them: It seemed as if the angel of death had spread his dark win i r over the oity r as.if it were little else than one dark. and fearful grave.. The committee of public lately, (as the then au thorittes called themselves,) however re-called Carrier from Nantes, where he was perPetrating his atrocities, and demanded his presence al rails; they became afraid, lest his cruelty, carried to such lengths, might ultimately prove datigerobs. 1 e , ids the end oldie Reign of Terror, Carrier Maisel as brought before the National Convention, ma nom Nantes bore such fearful - testimony to his 'blood-thirstiness`, that even the julges, hard as were their hem's, shuddereii With horror. His own a,ssertions of having acted iustly, • and having been indrelillbe_aVeliger offrtfure4l in nocence, did not save him. He was sentenced to death, declaring habit last his belief in his Firm innocence. Indeed', his assertions bordered on in tanity, and a reception into a mad-house would have been more fitting hir such a man than death. I y he guillotibe. • It was at this period that an aged priest,' who had f..:.n TO..ifi ; was bfOLG:II :o Nacres, fad lacar- .", :., ...,...L ' •' "' ' ,-' •• ' ~, -."- - . zt, : ',.; 0z r ...1 .- , :' , 9 • I' e.•'. " . t .i , i 27 ^ ' 1 - , f,..*:.; -- i.--:;12 .4 ! , e...,..., ,3 1W , ' - .1 - ,:,." -- -,:••••••A'''.'r . --.7.•:.47,,,. . • R 1 ~. ... • . , . . ~ . •_ , \ ~ ~....: ... ... . ..„...:,,, , .._ . " ! • •1 1 •E -, 1.....„.„:„....,,,......„...„.„...„.„.„: Ij ,:, • : ~... ~....T E ..,..:„.„.,,....,„,...,,, ~... k . , ...34... ,, , ~. . _........ ... ~.. - ~.- ~.. i- '! . 0 , —,,:c..,..._ ' ... .. . -, 4 '•;.;,.. ;-, ....-_ , •=.7--: ' . ..:' . . :•.: J _ . _ .„.: : .. ... t .,• -.--:-.. ...., .., , . . ... , . , . ~. ..„.....,... . . . _ cereted in a prison len feel below the ground, which bad no o:her opening than a narrow stair, and a mere hole ityhe wall. In this gloomy place he bad dwelt fourteen days Without hearing a voice or seeing the face of a hu man be;ng, except that 011ie keeper,. who brought him each morping a jug of water, and a piece of black bread. Not a word, however, was epriken, nor a look of compassion given to the captive, by his jailer, whose occupation had probably harden ed• his nature f and as scion as his daily duty was fulfilled, he retired as gldomily as he came. Nothing could the old priest see as he looked around, but the thick, dark walls of his dungeon, a little straw in s corner for a bed, and rings and chains scattered about. The only sounds were drops of water falling from the damp roof, as they fell with a monotonous and dismal drip, distantly heard in, the stillness. Sometimes he fancied he heard the, low sigh or moan of some other prisoner, or it might be the wind striking against the corner of his dungeon wall. The almost darkness or the twilight that gleam ed in through the narrow 'aperture;' , the cold, the smell of mould, all gave the place the semblance of the grave; he saw, felt, and smelt -the grave, but hi• spirit did not rest in it It wandered far away to brighter regions, and in the consolation .of religion the old priest was happy and resigned. Ile could sleep and often pleasant dreams cheered him. One morning, vs usual, the door of the dungeon opened, and the jailer appeared, but not alone; be hind him came a young man,:whe in one hand car ried a key, and in the other bread, Listen," said the jailer, in a hoarse voice, ad dresiiing his companion, " until I tell you what are your duties. 4‘ Vou must bring daily to this prisoner hie allowance, and you must examine minutely his chains, and see that they are all right. But no speaking, recollect, no unnecessary looks. Re. member the pledge I :tare you for tidelity, and your head assuredly will not be safe'it you disobey my orders." • 4 Be satisfied," replied the yonth " I know as well about-this business as it I had followed it (torn spy childhood. You-will never have any cause to regret taking me into your service." Ac the youth spoke, the priest we , ' seized with the greatest amazement. "It is her voice," he fdl4l to Itirrp‘elf. The young man appro.:clic:l him, as if to begin the wnik that had been tram-bored to him, by tiling np the chains, and holding them be. fore his eyes While doing so the pti,‘ener leli a warm teal drop on his levered hand{. " All tight," said the youth," we may now leave." They both left. "It i., it is Veronica," murmured the priest: while hope .and fear, aniimy and astonishment al/aimed him 1 4 turns. -The night which followed seemed miasma/ 1 y long. Sleep did from: his eyes, and he still felt the warm tear that had bedewed ht ands, and will heard the s•oice that lad so cur priseri and'toocherf him. The worming came at last.' The door opened, and the youth oh the day , before threw himself at the feet of the prieet, ea• ter could only reply, " My beloved daughter I" It was indeed Veronica, his adorned child.- 1 rambling, she raised the chains by which the ' pliezt was bound, and said, weeping, " Alt , •e• iierable lather, why Jul find you in so fearful a place h•' 1 - " Sly daughter,' answered the priest, " I eon ! aidesed it a duty to we myself from death, by ; taking refuge among strangers; but God has con ,' anted me to this dungeon. Thus, you see, there I*e tusthing once,ar in my being here. the how league you here, V4renioa, and in that dress f" " 414 fuster.mnther," replied the girl," was tak !en to prioon, and, alter much guttering, died. The picture of the misery %tier you—my only bene lactor—night be enduring, filled me with grief, 1 and ;are me no resit / roust go to him, and try to aaann him, I said tea my-elf. The feeling of i gratitUda made me forget the dangers and difficul ties ofrny undertaking, and I resolved to search for 1111 you everywhere." I'-' 11w how came you to Nantes?" inquired the 1 aged /rascal. PUBLISIIO EVERY SATURDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, 'PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH. ' Itiy dear benelecior !' utile ilia lat. elaiminv., " 1 knew," said Veronica, " that, in - order to reach the sea, you must pass through Nantes; so I packed up a few things, and with the little money I had, began my journey. I had been many days 412 die road, for, through fear of falling into evil hands, I took ways not much frequented. When eight hours distant from this city ; I was seized, in consequere of my warn of a passport, and threat ened to be seat to prison. I implored the soldiers' to set me free, and, as they were not destitute of ' pity, alter a short consultation with eat:bother, they told me 'I might go where I fp:eased. Much agi• titled, I reached a hat, where the woman who liv ed, in it showed me great kindness,and kept me all night. " Unhappy days !'' she said, looking at me 'full of pity, " Every one is troubled, terror is over all, whether child or gray haired man, girl or wo man—none can sleep soundly." She related to me how she lately sheltered an old man for a night beneath her roof. From' her description I conjec tured it was my. father, and the neat day I came to Nantes. I was told of the imprisonment of many ptieste,-and I feared you might be among them It suililenly occurred to me to g 0 the keeper of the dungeons- - I did so, asked alms, but, was thrust bask. The keeper just at that moment came to the gate, heard my voice, and said, throwing on i me a surly glance, " At your age, prong man, we -ought not 4o•beg-onr bread, •bot work tor it?' R I wish to doso,"_was my &newer, " but I cannot find employment:" ." When we seek in reality, we are sure to find it," he' answered; " but roast pigeons do qel frylitto our mouths." I took coot age.aird replied, "-Perhaps you could employ me; for syiih moreprisoners you Will require more help." He looked et Me iilh'FOntempt, as I asked the ~question- - tt " Laeerl," lie said, " people of a very Idiffarent sort from•you. Do yon know, young man, that I make work , for the executions, ? 1 A thrill 01 honor went threagh me, but .I recovered mate:` ‘f REGARDLESS Or DENUNCIATION rams ~,,,,Nir-qunnTER.". again, -and, boldly raising my bead, said, "No matter ; take me into your son ioe, and you shall see that everything you charge me to do shall be done lover satisfaction," He seemed to reflect, and - looked at me as jibe would pierce me through and through. At length ,he said, "if you will do what I require of you—it I tun no risk of find, -tog you a traitor, or that it were possible the aristo crat walked beneath a mask, You tremble, friend," " With anger," I answered, suppressing my agitation. " I will," he continued, t' take you , into my seriice. What do you ask ?'' "Only food and . shelter," I replied; " for anything more I trust to your kindness." .51y answer seemed to please him. " Young man," Ike said in a softer tone, e‘ you will have no cause to regret your determina tion. The times are favorable for jailers and their servaets." Next day 1 accompanied him on his rounds, and the fir - st place we came to was your dungeon. It required. great mastery over myself not to betray my emotion, but the darkness of this cell favored me; and now, worthy lather, that I have found you, I feel a joy which makes me for get all my misery and danger." Veronica was silent. The priest, affected by gratitude and nobleness of heart, was much touch ed by the simple recital, Ile took her hand, and said, " Your presence, my child, certainly glad dens me, but here you must not, cannot stay ; you must leave me, Veronioa." "Leave you," replied the girl, with an expres sion of deep grief;" and again trice dangers from which I have eseapkl as if by a miracle r , " Patience, myi child, 1 trust Cod will soon grant you a better- means of living. You a ould help me to carry my clove ? but I must not base the sorrow of seeing you perish at my side." • „ "II you must' die, Reverend father, under the hand of the executioner, it will be a consolation for me to share your fate; but I have no such dread• tut thoughts. I will save you, dear fattier; at least I will make the attempt. I have a tile to break your chains, and, it all goes well, you must escape in my city-hes, during the, night, while I take your place." As the young girl spoke, her eyes shone and her cheeks glowed, as if at that moment were united in her the courage of a man with the sacri ficing faith and constancy of a noble maiden. The priest smiled with a sail expression, he said— " In that case, Veronica, you would be obliged to exliar.ge my place in this dungeon for the scat would be pardoned on account of my youth,' ied the • Do not hope so," is/4:i the Priem. El Ji No matter then," continued the heroic girl " To you I owd my preservation ; ill give you back my life, I only repay a debt." " What !" exclaimed are venerable priest, al. famed by the expression of suds elevated aenti• merits. " You have scarcely eiitere.l upon life, and already you wouhl sacrifice yourself for me, wbosu last hour cannot in any case be lar di-taw. Look at my leeble 3 body, already sinking; look al my thin, trembling bands, my sunken checks! No, Veronica, your resolution I cannot call a right EMS " But your soul if strong," answered the intrepid " and you ,may yet do much service in the world. You may console ihe dying, arid succor the miserable." " Yes, thee soul does the good my child ; but not without the aid of tkis 684, and minejs weighed down by years. I can uo longer be what I was in my youth. 1 long for another life, while you may be useful on earth, fur you have a C 011143111 and strong will ; therefore do not desire my life pro longed." Veronica wept. "Al leas;" she said, after a pause' sutler me remain here, to be near you, that I may help you to such to such things as your bodily wants require." " Be it to," answered the ariest ; " but go now, lest your absence be suspected." 4111 Aft U 4n order to afford the reader an Insight into dui relation of Veronica with he; benefactor, we must glance at an event which took .place at an -earlier period of our story. It was on te evening of the sixth ofpctober, 1777, when in the Rue Baroche, at Tours, a voung and handsome maxi stood at the door of one of the best houses in the town. , His countenance was melancholy, awl wore the traces O vrornout expectation. Hastily he wiped the pers piration /row his forehead, bent his ear to the door as it-to listen, then as hastily resumed his ni right position, and par - ed backwards and torwards, ap parently in great anxiety - .11 mind. Alter the lapse of half an boor, a yoUng woman came out, and hastily closed the 000 f after her. She looked very pale. • The man glanced at her anxiously, but dike not venture to speak, until they were both 'some distaise troth the house. 0, I see very ,lie then said, " that she refuses to Mee" " again , " " Alas, yes was the sad answer. rt The erne! one !" meDered the man, " Did you not tell her that we woatfl not have remained lung with her?" told everything;" rlPlied the women, with a sigh. "She said we might do as we liked, just as we had done berme, that is, marrying withouti?er cpuseat." " Did you not speak of our child 3" asked the man with inereaßed agitation. " Certainty," answered the youug wife ; " but my apot said elle pared nothing abut Yesothe -hse a haul heart," exclaimed the man, in the greatest indignation. " She shall re pent. She " Stop, Juliet'," said his wile, interrupting him, as het tears tell fist. "itis a sin to wish 0.11. Mit us beg----" " peg!" repeated the unhappy ' young man, o randing 6611, and gq.ing on the face of hie wife in profound sotrow. Dtr g, Laura! Yen, we must beg. But how are we to begin ; We must, in the frig place, leave Toure;" he continue! " I have iciencis 1.1 Pa.'. , as meet go mere "4, MIS " And our ehii'd V said ta'ura, loo . iiing" at Iter infant, which she, hefd beneath her mantle, and Cheri at her husband, with abash . terrified expression of countenance. It We must leave it hem," answered the yonng men, speaking with an effort. " Leave my child!" impetuously exclaimed the unhappy mother, becoming pale and red by turns. "Dostuispellkatelliodulipspt- what is mrpoest- We," and poor Laura burst into an agony ot weep. ing. " Laura," said kr compahion, ins voice brolcen and agitated, " do you think that I suffer tress than you in proposing such a slept Were it not an im perative necessity, could I, think you„coiatemplate such a prceedinl? But it must be.- We cannot take our poor little daughter wish - us to Paris, when we may be obliged to perform the journey on foot. Besides, dear Laura, we shall leave it only for a short ; we shall return and claim it," Laura looked up, and asked what he meant se riously to Jo with the child. "That wh . ch other unfortunate ones often do, place it in the Fountilint hospital." These words were uttered as-if wrung from the heart of the unhappy young father. " No, Julius," cried his wife, with yet treater vehemence; " rather than consent to this, I would see my child perish in my arms. ,I'hatl see our daughter in the midst of crime arid shame! You know that the children are often given over to this one or that ope, lrequently to needy women as daily beggars. What kindness could be expected from such womenl" " Your own aunt showed no greater kindness," replied Juhus, with biomes, ".than any 01 those women may be expected to show to a child. Per haps you had better retrace your steps, and ask her aid once more." 4 ' Do riot be unjust, Sullea, My aunt was kind to me, and cared for me as any mother would have dune; for my education, for all 1 ever received I have to thank tier. And she was kind to you, too, Julius, until—." She stopped, afraid of hurting her husband's feelings, by alluding to their mar riage. "Go on," observed the latter, with impatience :. Nluch depends on her appearing to me in a more favorable light.'' " Had you been in her place," whispered Laura, taking the ha rid of her husband, l• perhaps you would have acted as she has done. llere is a cburch," she continued, in a low voice, sad, " let us go in and pray that Gitril may direct our steps ;" and she drew her husband with her into the cads drat of the town to which they. were elose. " A thought occurs to me," said her husband, as they entered. "Let us lay down our child before the,alrar, and among the pious who come to evert ing prayers, some erre may take pity or the infant." The thought seemed tO please the unhappy moth• er, as she pressed the child tenderly to her heart. Yet she felt uncertain. The separation was sor ' rowful It was so hard for a mother to part with ' her infant Observing, tier hesitation, Julius said, " You 17111 M take our daughter youself, dear Laura, the altar, lay her down, and M arch at a lade dor ' tanoe who approaches. I will remain near the 'l,l'oor, and observe who goes in or comes out. Ir is • so dark, 1 shall not be perceived. Tie this small medal round her neck," pointing to one Laura al. ways wore, and by this token we shall again find our child." Poor Laura prepared to follow the advice of lie: husband, and slowly appt oaehed the altar with he uneonscious child—tmeonseious alike of iss, moth er's tears or its lather's wretchedness. Laura steps softly, leatful ol drawing observation on herself by any of those who were kneeling near/ her. The chinch was dimly lighted—only the lamps in the choir were binning, and a few others at one Or more ol the side chapels. :The reached one of the latter, where she had been accustomed to pray in ! t ier girlhood. With a throbbing heart and a heavy Filth, she gently laid down her lints daegliter before the altar of the Blessed commending her to the ruewy of God. •She then arose, and Went a Orton distance, in artier to ob• serve it any one took up the child. 'By degrees thee-111mila) became? Minot empty; the atcuship pars, one by one, had - disappered, until there only remained that oilieialing priest. The priest was our friend of Tours, who years after was imprison ed, as we narrated, in the dungeon of :Names.— When lie saw that there remained no one, as he thought in the elturch,he prepared also to depart ; Ibut •fore leavittg, he approached the sidechapel, where lay the infant pl Laura. He knelt down for a few moments, lie Wahl a tow moan, lip listen ed, and heard another; and then to his astonish ment, perceived a child at the loot ol the altar. The then helpless infant became the Veronica who wished to give her file for that of the good priest, who had, at thatcritical perksl of her des tiny, taken compassion an' hit. He lifted up the child, resolved to take charge of it ; the mote es. pecially, as he by the medal suspended mend its neck, that its mother'muat have been an unfortunate Chlistiart parent, who was desitous that .t her child should be rehigion'.ly educated. lii going away, he almost touched Laura, who was anxiously watching his movements. lieu joy was so Veal when she saw the vilest take up her child, that she was on the point of speaking to him, but shame and tear kept her silent. " Heaven be praised !" murmured the father, as he saw , the priest rasa out,,and knew tie had his child. Teals ofeuiption slood s sohis eyes, as he and Lama Went on their sorrowful journey. priest gave the child the name of Veronica, and sent it to be taken care of by a respectable widow, whe lived action way . trona Tours. When I ten year. of age , the your • g i rt came daily to her ~ benefactor to receive instruction, and the worthy priest became much attached to the little fendling, who eirty gave proofs of no ordinary intelligence. The Revolution broke WI The aged' ei4tere of the prfeet, who had liietl, e'.th Lim, died, said he went to ter:de WitA s l`teeraea. 414 toe w.ido !SEE WM Search had often been made for him, as he rotes. eJ to take the civil oath; but Veronica cnnttrved , conceal him so well, that - at length the scan seemed to be abandoned. However, he ag,aJ drew observation upon himself, by persisting dispensing the sacraments f and he assuredly MI have been taken before the fearful tribunal, lied not withdrawn himself from Tours. CiIANTI4II' 411 Several Jays elapsed, when, one morning Vero- nica entered the dungeon, looking more cheerful than usual. " I bring you 144, my father," she said.— "Some persons of importance have come to in• spew the prisoners. I accompanied them toddler ant dungeons, and I observed One of the oMelals showed pity and compassion, 'end I feel certain that he will exert himself to alleviate the suffer ings he witnessed, arid perhaps release many of the unhappy prisoners. Ah," continned the young girl, " what sad sights I have seen! First, we visit ed a poor widow, whose husband and son had been guillotined; then we came to the cell of a young orphan girl, whose helpless slate and mel• ancholy tale would have,made The heart tender.— But ono man in partiouliir I must mention, who or irested the attention of the inspectors. Ah, it *as a painful sight !"exclaimed Veronica ; " those horrid spectacles make me shudder, The man of ; whom I speak was about thirty years of age. Ilia gas , lures betrayed pride, as he paced up and down his dungeon. His countenance was inflamed and his eyes rolled wildly lipnn his forehead he wore a band of black silk, and round his left hand was twisted a piece of , linen °loth. He was dressed in uniform. In his right hand he held a paper, where on were written some lines in a ied color of As we approached hecast on us a look of fury, `and, drawing hirobelf proudly up, he began to sing, in a loud voice, " A lions enfants dr Is pair's Le Jour .ho trbOrle.l ern 1....4111ru opus ,1.3 Is I) railwa Le c4.4.lcds s.thglunt ., Fat Llcrc - a parody of the " Marseioiie." " Who ;re yoe,"demarklled the inspector, " who dare to profane our glorio - W4 hymn r• A. republican," ruled the prisoner, in a ty tone. Theo, why are you water arrest!" L , Why ! liceau.e we are under the yoke ol the, most cruel tyrant." " When did your auest take (lace r• again ask• ed the inspector. " That will be . heard ni yet," exclaimed the man -furiousiy. "1 will communicate it to the whole world. You would prevent me making ] your evil deeds known, but ;bat you will not be able Co do You refuse me ink; I have found it iu my veins.— It is my blood with which t have written this b,iok. Look !" he wittily rued, bolding up to on the bit of paßer, and then burst out into a fearful laugh,— "neat! ! read !" he continued, and his countenan- I ce assumed a gloomy asiwzi. " But perhaps you I eannot discover much from this; so 'listen, gentle- i men, listen:—lt was shortly rit.er my marriage' with a lair arid virtuous woman that the 'war broke nu. inspired by love fur my country, and obedi ent to its taws, I became a soldier, tors myself from the arm of my young wite. neglected the en treaties of my mother, :Hid weal a;ainst tile ene my. For twenty days I endured many privations, faced many clangers. On the I.4st there was a bat tle. But what a bailie+. Vreortimen Iwiv2ht a.,4aiost I:rem:thine& Nile. - a tearful shedding of bond we conquered. I hid sit wound.: ( was sent home, but the moment increased my torture My whole body was indeed, like one iinge wound. Now, r )entlemen, comes the horror. I entered my dwell was empty ; no one there except an aged beggar My mother had been guillotined on the same day I had shed my blood in battle. nay .wife was drowned it. the seine. Men, greedy and cruel as tiger., had seized on my property. The sight inflamed me, and gave me back my strength—the strength of despair. I - tau to the executioners I screamed in their ears that. during the spice of fontiegn'tlays, they had comtnitted more shameful deeds thaw all the tyrants Of fourteen Centuries pot together. INJorderera I called theta, 30,1 therefore, gentleman I am in this dungeon. They robbed me of my means, thereforedit iv tight they should lodge and feed me; and why the knife of the giiil brute has not yet severed my head from my Way, I understand not, seeing I have given no cause for delay." fie again drew housed( np proudly, and, in a Touter voice t h an bytoie, recommenced his 6011:.• Pool man '....it wa4 a sad ss,z,h!, mdeled, to behold " .1 Mrstorianu has derived hum at his aen‘es,'• slid ohs of the attendan la. • Ile 14 not always in this wild mood. Sometica ho a errs like a child,- and prays and and sings In a gentle vuice. We cannot help playing him " t " We left him nn.i 1 nreihi:4lll the y.mr,ger 3:1.1 ~ more compassionate looking ut the gettileniuti r ay, " It is. Ingb - mno.that such tyranny were ended—a tyranny destroying bath torn) and body " t litu at tvii wards took me aside and said, " Vfninr.. man, 1 I barn ohsei wed yibys eandus:l. Buret, I give yon tins money, (placing a roll 01 silver in my hands ) use it for the bt..netit of the prironeus." He then said, you resemble ono who was very dear to me. May Too petontas the same virtue.. Ate you par• eats alive ?" he asked ale aptly . " I have never known them," I answered. Ile became deadly (bale. After a pan-e, he said, rt If you were not a young man; I would lineation you further. kmboldened by li,iulangitage, I spoke ofyou, reverend !whet. " A priest !" he exclaimed, thricging hp stool dere, as if indicative 4f the dilli:ully cf saviog anti. "A priest," he again said, " this is not a 14voratale time for them, perhaps it may be, Inter. Mean while, however, be will - probably be Pale. He may be,forgorten-11 will consider of it." " No*, dear tether, Mis Ia my good news."— And, saying so, the young girl loft the dungeon. A considerable time elapsed, and will there came na liberation for the pristaers. Arres:e were few er. and so were execalions. Stria the prezious falai freedom was very rarely beard , hr , any of risone; few, indeed, received as yeti - their - lib- One. day Venetia tolt s ljhemieitt lbatisledy Tours had just. been datinisoned, vvho.-knew ' by name, althnngh she had not been person acquaiod with, - him. " 4 Sher 'w ishes are to lettiejrnm her to you; bnt,in these 644 it dangerous to perform even Iles slightest amid' indnessohat I would not promise quill Iliad fret • • consulted with you." 'eon do ri lit to be prudent, ny daughter, ans wered the priest, ' yet I cannot lee any berm could come from bringing me the letter. -eethaps , the lady may have something of consequence to reveal to me. She may wish religious consolation. I think you may venture to oblige her indhis ; only impress tipmt her, that, lest the .ceMmunicetion might prove injuriou* to her were P. tithed, she must he careful how she . Two days after, Veronica handed aletter to the priest, part of the cnntents of whielt seemed deep ly to-interest him. The brief statement ran as lof lowsl—l become a Widow in early lila. Rich, and without chiliren, I had many oflers . for my band, but I refused them all. buy affection was centred in a youthful relative—an orphan, who lived with me, and was as my daughter_ At the age of eight eau, she was one ot-the most accomplished girls in Tours; rich in knowledge, and will richer in the qualities of her heart. Two years alter, a propoial of marriage was made to her, every way advants• genus, but she declined it, saying she would never many, rather than take one she did uol love. at. terwards found out that the refusal was in cause ; rpience of her loving some one else.. This other proved to be a youth of great talent, in whom I lead taken much interest, and aided in the pursuit oflart, in which he was devoted. I wished him tq'in- I strict my adopted daughter in drawing. He caine, and the end was, that he gained her afledtioes, while f thought they were entirely occupied with their studies. I forbade him the house, and strlct ly watched the actions of Laura. I was deceited after all. One day they both entered my tenting room ; I would have retired,but they withheld me, threw themselves at 'my feet, ar& - farttestly entreat ed my consent to their union. They promised to do everything possible to.mate me happy, ulster to leave me. and to follow my will iu every res pect. " Well," said Ito them ; " begin now, for my will is, that you never more show yourselves here." They married: the young man occupied himself unceasingly in order to try and maintain hisAvile ; but, in spite of every effort, heenald not earn sufficient for their support. Many times they sought interviews with me, bet vainly, for my ha tred had ratherincreased than diminished, and I desired to hear nothing of them. One eveningll shall never forget it) Laura suddenly rushed into my presence. She was pale, wasted, - and, fragile, as a withering flower. lo her arms she carried her infant. She wept, and, in a voice al most choked with sobs exclaimed, "Oh, dearest aunt, have you no pity for ine 1" and she nook hold of my dress. I tried to poll , it from her grasp, bet she held, it fast, and raising' her child to me, be- sought me" to have pity for it, if my heart were steeled against heself." I remained inekorebki and she left me in a mate bordering on despaii. I aferusarils made inquiries privately for them, but never could, discover in what direction my unfor tunate r.iece and her husband had gone. 1 tiPFaum afflicted with profound melancholy, in consequen ce ol my harshness ta my poor Lanra. Some years after ; loriely and sad, I did not refuse to form en alliance with an old and Lanorablecificer in the army. The Revolution, with its torrent al misery, soon broke up our quiet. The Vendeans rose in in arms. My husband lowed the adherents of . thei K mg, and I accompanied him to La Vendee, to share his dangers. He fought with bravery, and fell. I now well know, was arrested, and incarce rated in this dungeon." i__ -i This was the coMmanicalien which r o u sed the interest ol the priest, and he speedily sent raj au. 1 ewer, to inquire likewise More paniculaily about I dates, whether her niece wore a medal, and.' what was its ini , cription. "Recall all this to your me mory," wrote the priest, " aid ansr er me quizkly, i for, should your reply be such as [anticipate; l am 1 in a position to impart a fact of importance to you." Doubtless, thought the priest, her niece mast hays been the person who laid my yen:mica at the foot of the altar. Unhappy, yet punts mother Ol'op iterfel indeed are the ways of God, who oat: et seeming evil britigeth good Me said nothing., how ever, of hiS suspicions to Veronica ; until lib ,Le -1 eived au 411e11or, he lesoived to be ..ileitt. On the following Jay, when as usual, Veronica ! entered the :linigeon, her countenance *ore a Je 1 i..c:ea and euletuit expressian, and tears Were in her e$ es. " b!la eai.J, "your uotreApendenca woh the otio•ei's wd,low ts at au enti; death -har Inter. tripled • What!" esclaimed she priest, in amaremee! -" 14 the laity. dead 1 ' •' You shall hear the sail tale, for I was present," replied the young gill. '• Yesterday, she was led belive the tribunal, accompanied blEiftvettil ethers, and l'Ava4 among the number of keepers. In dip President I recognised again the official, who, of all the inspectors who had visored the prison. .was Cie w 0.4 cruel and severe. The insitini I saw him 1 had small hope for the prisoner, and 114 p. issue justified my fears. After going through the,mock ry of a trial, the indoitimate lady was sentenced o death, has mg replied to the interrogatories oi the ferocious judge laavely. '• The wile of a French Soldier knows how to die," she said, when she heard her sentence pronounced, " 601 I einicat a e hurt respite, not for my own sake, but for sake et a near !Mauve whom I had lima/tented, li now am anxious to do hot justice. I expeci to hear of her shortly, and Inr 'llia purpose, i Presidencten• treat delay." " Justice in inexorable and ipttecly;' answered the cruel President, " andvan Weak no delay." A few hours afterwards, thetangeon was exchanged for the scafiola." '• I re,f,rec mtico," said the ptiest A "that le; 19 MEM imumm rie9 lEEE MOE , c- ,
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