13i HEN EY J. ST_ HLE
37 Th YEAR.
__ -
TERMS OF- THE COMPILER,.
ge- T4e Republicau Compiler is 'published
every Monday morning, by HENRY STAnt,E,
at per annum if paid in advance----$2.00
per annum if not. paid in advance. No sub
scription discontinued, unless at the option of
the publisher, until all arrearages are paid:
ADvERTISEMENTS inserted at the usual rates.
J im clwaply, and. 1111 - 11
dispatch.
- My"Office on South Baltimore street, direct
ly opposite Wampler!s Tinning Establishment,
- one and a half sqUares from the Court House.
tEboice Portrv.
For thellepublican Compiler
Musings at the Family Altar.
ME
BY CANTATA.
Ab, holy shrine! with joy I greet
Thy old familiar face once more ;
And rented humbly at thy feet,
Thy favor once again implore.
. •
I oft', upbu - this gracious c-eat,
Dare wept and +W4ll'4 With those " r love
And often. in their cadence sweet,
>Have lifted heart and voice above.
But new, those soinak hare sunk to rest,
Within the dark chaotic pa,t ;
And forms that then around thee press'il,
Are fading'froin thy presence fast.
Let it be 1,0 tho' e ~• 'ry seat
Mimild wail their dreary vaeaney;-
1 still wiltlinger at thy feet,
And otter up my life fur thee".
Thy 'comforts yet abound, in wealth;
Thy plenteous hand yet freely Fives;
And thou hat yet the sweets of health
For carp, who neath thy shettee lives.
love to hear. each whivering;.
1 love to hear e.tfli gentle prayer—
That daily from thine image %lug
Their Hight to loftier, higher care.
The spot where thou halt mule thy stay,
3,1 y memory hails with great delight;
It kept my steps through -(111:my-a-day,"
And held my dreams through "many-a-night."
scenes,• i grieve to know, must falter,
And mu, frail- man. return to dust; .
And Titoc! decaying family : altar,
Nay Amid a sihile, but fall thou mnst.
Thus ever, whilst I breathe life's breath,
Thv being shall_ remain unsc.u•r'd:
And when L sleep the sleep of death,
My i,pirit then, will be thy guard.
.-a!
a capital
From the Christmas Number of "Household Woris.''
RICHARD DOUBLEDICK ;
A POOR TRAVELLER'S STORY.
EY CHARLES DICKENS.
In the year one thousand seven hundred and
ninay-nine, a relative of mine cattle limping
down, on foot, to this town of Chatham. I call
it this town, because if anybody present knows
to a nicety where Rochester ends and Chatham
begirgb it is more than I do. lie was a poor
traverer, with not a - farthing in his pocket.
De sat by the fire in this very room, and he
slept one night in a-bed that will be occupied
to-night by some one here.
My relative came doWn to Chatham, to en
list in a cavalry regiment, if a cavalry regiment
would have him ; if not, to take King George's
shilling from any corporal or ,sergeant who
would put a bunch .-)f ribbons in his hat. His
object was to get shot: but he thought he
might as well ride to death as be at the trouble
of walking.
Mv-relative's Christian name was Richard,
bathe was Letter known as Dick. Ile dropped
his own surname on the road down. and took
tip that of Doubledick. He was passed as
Richard Doubledick ; age twenty-two ;
live feet' ten ; native place, Exmouth ; which
he had never been near in his life. There was
no cavalry in Chathain when he limped over
the bridge here with half a shoe to his dirty
foot, so he enlisted in trregiment - of the line,
and was glad to get drunk and forget all
about it. -
You are to know that this relative of mihe
had gone wrong and run wild. His heart was
in the right place, but it was scaled up: Ile
had been betrothed to a good and beautiful
girl whom he had loved better than she—or
perhaps even—believed ; but. in an evil hour,
he had given her cause to say to him, solemn
ly, "Richard, I never will marry any other
man. I - will live single for'your sake, but. Ma
ry Marshall's lips"—her name was •Alitry Mar
shall —"will never address another word to yon
on earth. Cio, Richard ! Heaven forgive von!"
This finished him. This brought him down to
Chatham. This made him Private Richard
Doubledick, with a determination to be shot.
There was not a more dissipated and reck
less soldier in Chatham Barracks, in the year
one thousand seven 11111111:v6 and ninty-nine,
than Private Richard Dotibledick.' lie asso
ciated with the dregs of every regiment. Ile
was as seldom sol.er as he could be, and was
constantly under punishment. It became
char to the whole barracks that Private
Richard Doubledick would very soon be
hogged.
Now, the Captain of Richard Douhledick's
company was a young gentleman not live years
his senior, who'e eyes had an expression in
them which affected Private Richard Double
dick in a very remarkable way. They were
bright, hand•iome, dark eves—what arc called
laughing - eyes generally, and. when serious.
rather steady than severe—but, they were the
only eyes left in his narrow world that Private
Richard notlbledick could not stand. Una
bashed by evil report and puni-hmerit, du ti ant
of everything else, he had but to know that
those eyes looked at him for a moment. and he
felt ashamed. Ile could not so much as salute
Captain Taunton in the street, like any other
officer. lle was reproached and confused—
troubled by the mere possibility of th e C ap .
tain's looking at him. In his worst moments
he would ra dn. r turn back and go any distance
out of his way, than eurNAunter- those MC
dark hriu•ht eves.
(Inc d r, when Private Richard Doublediek
came out of the black dole, where he had heen
passing the last euzht-and-forty hours, and in
'IA loch I.etlcat he spent a owed deal of his tine,
he. w as or dell() to hetal,e himself to Captain
Taunti-n's gum tens. In the stale and squalid
s att. of a wan just out of the 31ack Jude, he
had 1e,,, tanev 'than ever for hieing seen try -- the
Ca pZ:1111 : but he was not wad vet as to di--
E AP'Y Orders. and consequently went up to the
tttrace o‘ el looking the parade-ground , 1 % he ll 2
the office's' gum-tens ;ewe twisting and
eaking in his hands as he went. along a bit
the th;g — tralued tie decorative
lal,n.uie at the Blauk Hole.
_ _
3 inighl 31nuliimprt----Erilutr fu lgrirulturr, , Eitrraturr, qtriE Ruh :,,' ; •rirlats, 4:tr gilder!, Orurrnt linurritir furrip fintrllivErc, 3hurdisiug, .Thunriutrut kr.
'•Come in !" cried the Captain, when he
knocked with.his knuckles at the floor. Pri-
vate Richard Pout
. pulled off 'his eap,
took a stride forwmd. tpd felt eery conscious
that he stood in the light of the dark bright
eyes.
There cc-as a silent pause. Private Richard
poubledickl'had put the straw in his mouth.
a nd-wa*--gr adtudly-dowliling-k-up in h is=w-ind
pipe'and choking himself.
-- "Doubledick," said the ‘'Do you
know where you are going to ? '
“To the devil, sir faltered Donbledick.
"Yes," returned the Captain, _‘‘and very
fast."
Private RichardDoubledick turned the straiv
of the Black I-fole in his month, and made a
miserable salute of acquiesence.
"t)oubledick," said the Captain, "since I
entered his Majesty's service, a boy of seven
teen, I have been to see many men of promise
going that road ; but I have never been so
pained to gee a man determined to make the
shameful journey; as I have been, ever since
you joined the regiment, to see you."
Private Richard Doubledick 'began to find a
film stealing over the floor at which he looked ;
also to find the legs of the Captain's breakfast
table turning crooked, as if he saw them
through water.
"I am only a common soldier, sir," said he.
"It signifies very little what such a poor brute
comes to." ,•
"You are a man," returned the Captain with
grave indignation, "of education and superior
advantages ;
.and if you say that, meaning
what you say you have sunk lower than I-had
believed. Bow low that must be, I s leave you
to Consider ; knowing what I know of your dis
grace, and seeing what I see." -
'"•I hope to get shot soon, sir," said Private
Richard "Doubledick 'tan& then the regiment,
and the world together, will be rid of me."
The legs of the table were becoming very
crooked. Doubledick, looking up to steady
his vision, met the eyes . that had so strong -an
influence over him. De put his hand before
his own eyes, and the breast of his disgrace
jacket swelled as if it would fly asunder.
"I would rather," said the young Captain,
"see this in you, Doubledick; than I would see
five thousand guineas counted out upon this
table for a gift to my good mother. Have you
a mother ?"
"1 am thankfulto say she is dead. sir."
"If your praise," .returned • the Captain,
"were sounded from mouth to mouth through
the whole regiment, through the whole army,
through the whole country, you would wish
she had lived, to say with pride and joy, I.lle
is my son !"
“Spare me, sir,” said Doubledick. “She
would' never have heard any - g - .5 . 6d of me. She
would never have liad any pride and joy in
owning herself my mother. Love and com
passion she might have had, and would have
always had, I know : but not—Spare the, sir !
I am a broken wretch, quite at your mercy !"
And he turned his face to the wall, and stretch
ed out his imploring hand.
•'lfy friend "began the Captain.
- "God bless you, sir!" sobbed Private
Richard Don bled ick.
"You are at the crises of your fate. 11 . 01(1
your course unchanged, a little longer, and you
know what must happen. I know even bet
ter than you can imagine, that after that has
happened. you are lost. No man who could
shed those tears, couldbear those marks." •
"1 fully believe it. sir," in a low, shivering
voice, said Private Richard Doubledick. -
''But a man in any station can do his duty,"
said the young Captain, "and, in doing it, can
earn his own respect, even if his case should
be so very rare, that lie can earn no other
man's. A common soldier, poor brute though
you called him just now, has this advantage in
the stormy tunes we live in, that he always
does his duty before, a•-host of sympathising
witnesses. Do you doubt that be may so do
it as to be - extolled through a whole regiment,
through a whole army, though a whole coact ,
try ? Turn while you may yet retrieve the
past. and try."
"I will ! I ask for only one witness, sir,"
cried Richard, with a bursting hLart.
"I understand you.. I will be a watchful
and a faithful one."
I have heard from Private Richard I)ouhlc
click's own lips, that he dropped` lown upon
his knee, kissed that officer's hand. :frose, and
went out of the sight of the dark bright eyes,
an altered man.
In that year, one thnnsnnd seven hundred
and ninety-nine, the French were in Egypt, iu
I:aly, in Germany, where not ? Napoleon
Bonaparte had like Wisc begun to stir against
us, in India, and most men could read the signs
of the great troubles that were coining on. In
the very next year, when we formed an alli•
once with Austria against him, Captain Taun
ton's regiment was on service in India. And
there was not a finer non-commissioned officer then, if they could forgive hint and believe Into
in it -no, nor in the wholeline-than C o rporal. -w e n, t would be time enough-time enongh !
Richard Donbledick. I But that night, remembering the ‘vords lie
In eighteen hundred and one, the Indian had cherished for two years.-"'fell her how
army were on the coast of Egypt. Next year we became friend:4. It will - comfort her as it
was the year of the proclamation of the short comforts me," he related everything. It gi ad
peace, and they were- recalled. It hail then tidily secured t o him', as if in his maturity he
become well known to thousands of men, that had recovered a mother ; it gradually seemed
wherever Captain Taunton, with the dark to her, as if in her bereavement, she had found
bright eyes, led, there, close to him, ever a: j a s on.
his Side, firm as a rock, true as the sun, anti •During his stay in Englalid", - the quiet gar.
brave as Mars, would be certain to be found. ( len into which he h a d s lowly and painfully
while life beat in their hearts, that fatuous wept,. a stranger, became the boundary of his
soldier, Sergeant Richard. Doubledick. h om e ; when he was at to rejoin his regiment
Eighteen bundled and live, besides being in the spring, he left. the garden, thinking.
the great year of Trafalgar, Was swear of hard was this indeed the first time he had ever
lighting itr India. That wear saw such won- turned his face towards th e o ld co l ors , w ith a
Lk) s done- by a Sergeant-Major, who cut his woman's blessing!
way single-handed through a solid mass of! Ile followed them--co ragged. so scarred
men) recovered the colors of his regiment; and pit-iced now, that they would scarcely hold
which had be e n seized from the hand of a poi'm together-to Qua tie Bra's. and Ligny. Ile
boy shut through the heat t, and rescued his I stood beside them, in Oil awful stillness of
wounded Captain, who was down. and in a many men, shalowy through the mist and
very jingle of horses' hoofs and sabres•-saw d r izzle of a wet .tune forenoon, on the field of
such wonders done. I say, by this brave Ser-I Waterloo. And down to that hour the picture
geant.-.Major. that he was specially made the in his mind of the French officer had never
bearer of the colors he had won : and Ensign b e en compaied with the reality.
Richard lloubledick-had risen fioot the ranks. The - fainims regiment was in action early in
• fly cot up in every batt-I,e i --Ltut. nitwit-vs the tri4l:l-:, and ivertived
- reinforced by the bravest of nien`-for the fame an even' fill year, when lie was , -een to tall.
of following the old. colors shot through and But it swept on to aven t ze aw l left l i o, n ,d
through, IN:111Ch Ensign Richard Douldedick it no such creature in the world of conscious.
had saved, inspired all breasts-this mg:orient tier-. as Efeutenant Richard flouldedick.
fought way through the Peninsular war. Through pit- of on-re arid pot - I:4'11;6U along
up to the in% estment of Badajos eighteen (I( cp ditches. once roads, iliac wt rc pou o .leii
hundred and twelve.
..Again and again it had w p,eces Iry artillery. In.a‘y wagiin-;, tramp of
been cheered through the British - auks until men and horses, and the st: evei
the tears hail sprung into men's eyes at. the , h e eled thing that could early w (moiled sof
mere hearing
,or the mighty British Voice, ,o diets : joked among the dyin,,- and the dead.
exultant in their Valor: and there was not a so disfigured by the blood and mud as to be
dr UM ny2r-boy but knew the legend, that w her- h a rd!): rut , ignitable for humanity ; utnh,turl,eti
ever the two friend:>. Major Taunton. w, itit t the..tnoanng, of men and the shrieking of
dark bright eyes, and Ensign Rachard Double.: h o r,e s , :licit. newly taken from the Ise:weft!i
why was de, vied to lunji, w ere put !_fe, .;vr.
GETTYSBURG, PA.: AMTNDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 1855.
go. there the boldest spirits m the English
army became will to follow.
one day, at Badajos—not in the great
storming,. but in repelling a hot sally Of the
besium b ed upon our men at work in the trenches,
who had given way, the two officers found
themselves hurrying, forward—face to face.
against a party of French infantry who made a
. t -11There-was-an-ollicer=a-t-their-he-14„Aln
couraging his men—a courageous. handsome,
gallant. • ottcer of ilve-and-thirty.—_whom
flou'iledick saw hurriedly. almost momentari
ly, but saw well.' He particularly noticed this
officer waving his-sword, and ralying his men
with an eager and excited - cry, when they fired
in obedience to his gesture, and Major Taun
ton dropped.
It n•as over !IT ten minutes more, atrT)ou-
hledick returned to the spot where he had
the best friend man ever had, on a coat
spread upon the wet clay. Major Taunton's
uniform was. opened at the breast, and on his
shirt were three little spots of blood.
"Dear Daub Wick," said he, "I am dying."
"For the love of Heaven, no !", exclaimed
the other, kneeling down beside him, and pass
ing his arm round his neck to raise his head.
tqaunton :11ly pieserver, my guardian angel:
my witness !—Dearest,-truest. kindest of hu
man beings ! • Taunton ! for God's sake !"
The bright dark eyes—so very, very dark
now, in the pale face:--smiled upon him : and
the hand he had kissed thirteen years ago.
laid itself fondly on his breast.
"Write to my mother. Yon will see Home
again. Tell lierlhow we became friends. It
comfort her, as it comforts me."
He spoke no more. but faintly signed for a
moment towards his - hair as it fluttered in the
wind. The Ensign understood him. lie smiled
again wheit he saw that, and gently turning
his face over on the supporting arm as if for
rest, died, with his hand upon the breast in
which he had revived a soul.
No dry eye looked on Ensign Richard Don-
Wediek, that melancholy day. Ile buried his
friend on the field, and became a lone, bereav
ed man. Beyond his duty he - appeared to have
but two remaining cares in life, one, to preserve
the little packet of hair he was to give to Tann
ton's mother ; the other, td encounter that
French officer who had rallied the uien under
whose fire Taunton fell. - A new legend now
began' to circulate among our troops ; and it
was, that when he and the French 04ficer canto
face to face once, there would be weeping in
France.
'The war went on—and through it went the
exact pictUre of -the French officer on the one
side, and the - holdify reality upon the other—
until the battle of Toulouse was fought. In
the, returns sent home, appeared these words
--' , ,Severely wounded, but not dangerously,
Lieutenant Richard Doubledick."
At Midsummer time, in the year .eighteen
hundred and fourteen, Lieutenant Richard
I)oublediek, now a browned soldier, seven and
thirty years of age, came home to England. in
valided. lie brought the hair with him, mar
his heart. Many a French officer had he seen.
since- that day; many a dreadful night, in
searching with men and lanterns fur his woond
ed, had he relieved French pflicers lying dis
abled ; but the mental picture and the reality
had never come together.
Though he was weak and suffered pain, he
lost not an horn• in getting down to Frame in
Somersetshire, where Taunton's mother lived.
hi the sweet, campassionate words that natur
ally present themselves to the mind to-night.
'..be was the only soli of his mother, and she
was a widow."
It was on a Sandal , ' evening. and the lade sat
at her quiet garden. w leadhig the I;ible ;
reading to herself, in a treml,ling %•oice, that,
very passage in it. as I have heard him tell.
Ile heal d the words : "Young man, I say unto
thee, arise !"
He had to pass the window; and the bright
dark eyes of his cl,tascd time seemed to look
at, Ida:. Iler heart told her who lie was; she
came to the. door, quickly, and fell upon his
ficc!:.
"He saved me from rain, made the a human
creature, won the from infuny and shame. 0
God. forever bless him ! lk will, 1k will !"
"Ile will'" the 'lady answered. ''l know
he is in Mayen !" Then she piteously cried,
0, my darling, boy. my darling boy !"
:Cever, from the hour when 'Private RiChard
Douldedick enlisted at, Chatham, had the Pri
vAe, Corporal, Sergeant, `crceant-Major, En
sign or Lieutenant, breathed his right name.
or the na►ne of Mary :Marshall, or a worn of
the story of his lire, into any car, except his
reclaimer's. That pro ions :crone in his ex
istenve was elw-cd. Ile had firmly resolved
-that his expiation should be, to live unknown
to disturb no more the pence that had long
grown over• his old ollen•es ; to jet it be re
\•caled when he was dead. that he had striven
and mdlered, and had never forgotten : and
TIII"T11 - IS Mifflin', AND MILL PRET AIL
the stragglerilYing - by the Way;side:: never to non, - and - within - 'view of
resume their toilsome journey dead, as to any which was all they' coal desire: they. lived
sentient-life that was in it-, and yet alive ; the' there, together, six months ; then returned to
form that , had been Lieutenant Richard Don- l*ngland.. Mrs. Taunton growing old a fter
bledick,, with whose praises England rang, t three years—though not so old that her bright
was conveyed to 11111 - st:els. There it was ten- dark eyes were dimmed—and remembering
derly laid down iii hospital; and there it' lay that her strength had been benetitted by the
Week - after week, through the long bright stun- I change, resolved, to go back for a year to those
t inrvest s tired b war , tarts. - So, she went with a faithful servant,
had ripened and was gathered in.
Over and over again, the sun rose and set
upon the crowded city : over and over again
the moonlight nights were quiet on the plains
, of Waterloo; and all that time was a blank to
whathad been Lieutenant Richard Doubledick.
Rejoicing troeps marched into Renssels, and
marched out; brothers land fathers, sisters,
mothers and wives, came thronging thither,
drew their lots of joy or agony, and departed :
so many times a day the bells rang ; so many
times the shadows of the great buildings
changed ; so many lights sprang up at dusk ;
so many feet passed here and there upon, the
pavements ; so many hours of sleep and cooler
air. night succeeded itaiiirerCat, to all, a.tnar
ble face lay on a bed. like the face of.a recum
bent statue on the tomb of Lieutenant. Richard
Doubledick.
Slowly laboring at last, through a long,
heavy dream of confused time and place, pre
senting faint glimpses of army surgeons whom
he knew, and of faces that had been familiar
to his youth—dearest and kindest among them,
Mary Marshall's, with a solicitude upon it more
like reality than anything he could discern—_
Lieutenant Richard Doubledick Caine back to
life. To the beautiful life of a calm Antolini
evening sunset. To the peaceful life of a fresh
quiet room with a large window standing open;
a baleony;_ beyond, in which were moving
leaves and sweet-smelling flowers ; beyo nd
again, the clear sky, with the sun full in his
sight, 'pouring its golden radiance on his bed.
It was so tranqUil and so lovely; that he
thought he bad passed into . another world.
And he said in a faint voice, "Taunton, are
you near me ?"
. A face bent over him. Not his ; his mother's.
"I came to nurse you. We have nursedyou
many wetks. Yon were moved here long ago.
Do you reinember.nothing ?"
"Nothing."
The lady kissed his cheek, and held his hand,
soothing him.
. "Where is the regiment? What has hap
pened 3 Let me call you mother. What
has happeneLmother ?"
"'A great victory, dear. The war is over,
and the regiment was the bra vest in the field."
Ills eyes kindled, his lips tremb!ed, he
sobbed, and tears run down his tiice. lie was
very weak : too weak to move Ins hand.-
"Was it dark just now ?" he asked presently.
"No." .
.tflt was only dark to me. Something passed
away, like a black shadow. Rut - as it went,
and the sun-0 the blessed son, how beautiful
it is !—touched my face, I thought I saw a light
white cloud pass out, at the door. Was there
nothing that went out ?"
She shook her head, and, in a little while,
he fell asleep ; she still holding his limit', and
soothing him.
From that time be recovered. Slowly, for
he had been desperately wounded in the head,
and had been shot in the body ; but, making
some little advance every day. l'irhen he had
gained snfficient strength to converse as he lay
in bed, he soon began to remark that Mrs.
Taunton always brought him back to his own
history. Then.he recalled his preserver's dy
ing words, and thought "it comforts her."
One clay. he awoke out of a sleep. refreshed,
anti asked her to read to him. But the Pertain
-of the bed, softening the light, which she al
ways drew hack w -he awoke, that she
might see hint from her table at the bedside
where she sat at work, was held undrawn ;
and a woman's voice spoke, which was not hers.
"Can yen bear to see a stranger ?" it said
softly. you like to see a stranger ?"
"Stranger !" lie repeated. The voice a wok e
old memories, before the days of Private Rich
ard Doubledick.
"A stranger now, but not a stranger once."
it said. in tones that thrilled him. "Richard.
de it Richard, lost through so many years, my
name—"
lie cried out her name "Mary !" and she held
him in her arms. and his head layon her bosom.
"I iitn' not breaking a rash vow. Richard.
These are not Nary'Nlarshall's lips that speak.
I have another name."
She was married.
"I have another name,' Richard. Did you
ever hear it ?"
"lever !"
Ile looked into her face, so pensively beau
tiful, and wondered at the,sndle upon it through
her tears.
"Think again, Richard. Are you sure you'
never heard my altered name r
"Never !"
'Don't move your head to look at me, dear
Richard. Let it lie here, while I tell my sto
ry. 1 loved a generous. nolde man : I loved
him with my -whole heart ; loved him for years
and years ; loved him "Piithfully, devotedly :
loved bhn with no hope of return : loved him
knowing nothing of his highest. (twilit its--not
even knowing that lie was alive. Ile was a
brave soldier. Ile was honored and ',cloyed
by thousands of thousands, when the mother
of his dear friend found ate, and slum ed 'me
that in all his triumphs he had tics er fin gotten
ores Ile was wounded in a great battle. Ile
was brought, 11 . ing. here into Hi
came to watch and tend him, as I would !Mt . ('
. joyfully gone. with such a porpo,c, t o th e
dreariest ends of the earth. Wiwi' be knew
ho One he 10ic..% tVlo ti !le suffered
Ino , t, lit: ho! e his suffemlig ., ; harel\ marnin ring.
content to re , t win•re l Utut, now.
When he *lay at the point ot h he marri e d
me, that he inight.cali we It itc ho;ne he died.
And the na-tav-.---iny_dear_lore , ,that Ltook-on
that foentten
knol% it now !.. he sohhed. "The
shad
owy teniewbrance strengthen-:. It is Co m e
hack. I thank !leaven that thy mind is quite
iestored ' ll y Zlar_yh_i -•z tu_e_;Ltllthis w e a l y_
head to rest. or I shall die of gratitude. llts '
part ing wo:ds arc fulfilled. I s e e Hom e ng .„F„ !,•
! They were happy. It was a lung-re
covery. hut they-were happy through it ail.
i, n d melted on the ground, a ti: e l oi t,: l i e e
in the lealk•-s thickets of
the earl; spring V. hen those thre e were fi r:: '
stile to inle opt together. and wh e n the r
flicked ah.lut the (lien carriage to cheer and
congratulate Captain Richard Doobledick.
Hut, cs en then ; it 11C(:t1Ille ut ccs,,ary fur the -
C a ptain, in-stead of mutt iiin• A
• Ety,land, to
complete his recovery in the climate of South
ern France. They found a spot upon thc
i.aic town of
,_, :i, 1!
who had often carried her sot to ns arms
and she was to be rejoined and escorted home,
at the year's end, by Captain lite:bard Double,
dick. ‘.
SU - Wrote regithirly to her children (ns she
called them now.) and they to her. She went
to the neighborhood of :fix and there, in their
own chateau near the farmer's house she rent
ed, she grow - into intimacy with a family be
longing to that part of France. The intimacy
began, in her often meeting among the vine
yards it pretty child ; girl with a most com
passionate heart, who was never tired,‘of lis
tening to the solitary English lady's stories of,
her poor son and the el uel wars. The family
were as gentle as the child, and at length she.
came to know them so well, that she accepted
their invitation to pass the last month of her
residence abroad, under- their roof. All this
.intelligence she' wrotehoint, piecemeal as it
came about, frOm time to time; and, at' last,
enclosed a pOlite -note from the head of the
chateau, soliciting on the occasion of his ap
proaching mission - to that neighborhood, the
honor of the companyof cet hoinnie si jaKtement
celehre, Monsieur le eapitaine Richard Doll
bledick.
Captain Doubledick ; now a hardy, hantlgorne
man in the full vigor.of life, broader across the
chest and shoulders than he had eVerlieen,
he
fore ; despatched a courteous reply, and fol
lowed -it in poison. Travelling through all
that extent of country after three years of
peace, he blessed the better days on which the
world had fallen. The coin Was golden, hot
drenched in. unnatural red ; was hound in
sheaves for food, not trodden under foot by
men in mortal tight. The smoke rose up from
peaceful hearths, not blaring ruins.—'file carts
were laden with the fair fruits of the earth :
not with wounds and death. To him who had
so often seen the terrible reverse,- these thiugs
were beautiful indeed, and they brought him
in a softened spirit to the old chateau near Aix.'
upon a deep blue evening.
lt, was a large chateau of the genuine old
ghostly kind, with round towers, and extin
guishers, and a high leaden. roof, aintinore win
dows than Aladdin's Palace. The latticublitids
were all thrown open; after the heat of the day,
and there were glimpses of rainbling walls and
corridor's within. Then, there wore - immense
outbuildings fallen into' partial dectiy magses of
dark trees, terrace gardens, haluStrades-tAanks
of water, too weak to play and too ,dirty to
work ; statues, weeds, and thickets of iron rail
ing that, seemed to have overgrown themselves'
like the shrubberies, and to have branched out
in all manner of wild- shapes. :The entrance
doors stood open, as doors often do in that. contr.,
try, when the heat of the day is paiis.id
the Captain saw no bell or knocker, and walk-`
ed in.
Ile walked into a bony stone hall. refreshing
ly cool and gloomy after the glare of n south
ern day's travel: Extending along the 'four
sides of this hall ' was a grillery, lending 'to stilts
of rooms and it; wax I ightedfrom the toy.
no bell was to ,he seen.
Faith," said tl►e Captain, ashan►ed
of the-clanking of his boots, `•this is ti ghostly
beginning!" •
lie - started Lack, and felt his face turn white.
In the gallery, looking down at hint: timed the
FrenQh officer ; the officer whose picture he had,
carried in his mind so long and so car. • Com
pared with the original, at last-'—in every lin
eament how like it was !'
lie moved, 'and disappeared, and Captain
Richard DouLledick heard his steps coming
quickly down into the h►►ll. He entered
through an archway. There was a bright so+
den look upon his face. Much,such a look
.as
it, had worn ita that fatal moment.
:llonsieur le Capitaine Richard Rooldedick ?
Enchanted to receive hire ! A thousand apolo
gies ! The servants were all out in the air.
There was a little fete among thc►n in,the gar-.
den.— In fact, it was the fete day of my daugh
ter, the little cherished and protected of Mad-.
nano T:►.unton.
Ile was so gracious and so frank, that Mon
sieur le Capita ine Richard I►oublcdick could
not withhold' his band.• "It is the hand of a
brave Englishman,' said the French Lacer, re
taining. it. while he spoke. "1 could respect a
brave Engliminnan, even as my foe : how much
mot cas my friend ! I, also. am a soldier."
"Ile tins-not remembered me, US I have re
me►nbe ed he did not take-such note ofn►y
face, that day. as I took of his." thought Cap
tain Double - dick. I low shall I tell him?"
The French officer conducted his guest:into
a garden, and presented him to his wife.; an
en gag ing and beautiful woman, sitting with
Mrs. 'Taunton in a whimsical old-fashion pas.•
ilion. Ills daughter, her fair young face beam
ing with joy, came running to embrace him :
and there was a boy-haby to tumble down
among the orange trees on the broad steps, in
fir his father's legs. A multitude of
children-visitors - were dancing to sprightly inn.
sic; and all the "ervants and peasants about
the chateau were dancing too. It was a scene
of innocent happiness that Might have been
vented for the elinetx of the scenes of Pea&
which had soothed the Captain's journey.
ILIOO . ked on. greatly troubled in his mind.
until a resounding bell rang, arid the French.
(aver begged to show him his rooms. They
went up stalks into the gallery IN/111 whtchlfie
ollicer had looked (lowa : and Monsieur iv t'ap taine Douldcdick was cordially wel
comed to a grand outer (+amber. and a small
er one within, all clocks and drapeiies. and
Hearths, and brazen dogs, and tiles, and cool
devices, and elegance. and vastness.
• 'You were at Waterloo," said the French offi
cer.
"1 was." said Captain Richard Doubledick.
I "And at liadajos."
--Left- alone a ith the sound of his own stern
voice in his ears, he sat down to consider.
11' hat shall 1 Jo. and .how shall I tell him ? At
that time, unhappily. many deplorable - duels
had been fiffight between English and French
officers, at isiwg out of the recent war ; and these
' duels, and how to avoid this officer's h os pit a l.
i itv, were the -up( erinost thoughts in Captain
Douldithek . -
lie was thinking, and letting the time run out
la w hich lie :should ha , ,se rk,r igloo, r.
tt iwn Abs. Taunton sis.).iie to him outside the
1w could give. her the letter he
113,1 brought, from Maly. "Ilis mother. above
all," Capotakt thoui,ht, ‘ - liumir 011411 I tell
TWO DOLLARS . A -YEAH.
"You tlprro a friendstilp with yottr.
lione," said Mrs. Taunton, whotn he - huirie&
last. for life. Ile is
true-hearted and..so generous, Atichard, that,yokt
can hardly fail to esteem one - .another. 'fie
'had been spnrcd." she kissed (not Withinit
tears) the locket in which she, wore his hair,
••he wo'ild have appreciated, him with his owit
ntagnanitnity, anti Leonid have beLll truly' hap-
py LIIII • C CVI ass • •ere
.such a• man his enemy."
She left the ro,UW; and the Captain walked,
first to one n dow ; •••• hence., he :could see the.
dancing in the garden,: thence to, another,witi-,
dow, whence be could see the Smiling, project;,
and the peaceful vmeyaul. '
"Spirit of Illy: departed friend," said he, 4 , is
it through thee these, betterthoughts art rising
in env mind ! IS it thou w no, Mist shown Me,
all tile way Ihave been drawn to meet , this
man; the blood: - of the . altereil time,
• thou who hest sentAliy„strickui mother to tne,,
to stay my angryhand bit from - thee the
whisper comes,. that - 01h; Man did his - dtity'as
'thou' didst=ti ed as`Fdid through thy guidance , ,
which has wholly etivedme here,ottea s rthJ-7sud
that he -did more , • • ,• ,
Ile ; sat , dew n, with heed pitied in,
Ana when lie rose , * titi6dii'dieseconil
strong resultitieti ef neither,!te'
the French °Ricer, nor to the motheexif de
parted friend, nor to any soul while either of
the two was living; wiiiildhibreathe •wliiit on
ly he knew. And when belt/netted ow. french.
officer's, glass with ins own, that i dilyet„ dinner,,
lie - secretly "forgave' him in thefiiaine:ef tha'pv
vine Forgiver of injuries:
ltere l - ended my stotyi 13pt,
it now, 1 could have added that the time has
since come whew the son' of ltliijerAtichiret
Doul•It dick. and the c SOn of that Prenelt•idlicsri
friends as their fa thers were before thetn,,fqught,7
Side by side in one cense ; with their respective,
nations, like longdividell brothers; whom the
better - timer; have brought tot,4etlier. fag( united-
Note so .Very Green:
A .young and apparently verdant
gave his hailing ; pluee Yarinount ,"
found himself surrounded, upon a 'certitin'ne
elision, by a crowd of, quining upstarts, who .
seemed hot upon tlisi4ying their ownsmart
ness, at the expense of the Yankee. . • #
, Jonathan !" one, "where are
you bound ?"
4!Deoun to Bosting, on a little trump," Was ,
the lenly ? .
" , What's your bus' nein; in' Boston 3" cumin
tied the , inquisitive gentleman._ •
, "Oh, deoun artev my
_pension. money •
responded greeny.
..Pension money !"''ejactihited . irhislieree;'
"how much, do you get* and. what are you
.
drawing pension money for 1,"
"Oh 1" answered the 'countryman, - "I get
four cents every 'year.•••=tew , to , mind ow n, ,
hut:At:los, and. Lew to lot other folks' •hutnnetw,
alone !"
The crowd had'no more it:Mar ItS
The answer was entirely,friati§fildpry.,
4,- --
Statistics for the Past Yeat., . ,
The papersiin-,--varionsdireetionS,.-are-fillecl_
w id) statistics of the past
majitalde events. aceiilents, inentents;Airti4, -
ST.:throtighim t 'the country. - The entire lima;
from tires, throughout the United States,Aor,,
the year, is estimated at trbout $25.000,060.
There were, also. eighty-three 'fires' in Which
loss of life - enSned. the to Of victims, beintv ,
one hundred and seventy-one.
The number of railroad accidents was -ono
hundred and ninety- three, killing One initidi
and eightY-six''persona'; and w ()tattling '•
hundred and eighty-nine. In:1853 :therowero
only one htindred_and thin ty eight
eidents, but attended with the loss of two
hundred' and' thirty-four bwides:tintr
hundred and ninety-six wounded. ~. ,
The steamboat accidents
. of the . year. ha' ire
alartningly ; increased—th totatntimber
ing forty- eighe,' h ' the 144' Of live hundred'
and eighty-seven souls, and, twollnindred and -;
twenty-live wounded, against thirty-one acci
deins:ihree !Mildred and nineteen•killed: and
one hunched and fifty.eighti wounded in,185x.,,
Crime, t00. , 0f every trade, foots up a fearful.,
catalogue. There were six buml;ett and 6ght;
ty.two nvirders; and eighty-four 'executithis
during, the year.
The list of mortality for. thp year..includes.
the demisp,of, no less, than eighteen men and - -
twenty-seven Women who had attained the
age of one lyindred yearsanti npwards. One
colored woman - -was, said to be one
dred and
,forty-six and another—an
m
woen —One• hundred anti forty-two 'years of
age. • The oldest white man was one.hundeecr
and seven, and the oldest white, tvoman one ,
hundred .and twenty-one years. Death has
also, during the year, greatly thinned thedi
tninishett ranks of the Sol d ers 'of the Revoltie•'
Lion—no less than eighty-six having closed,
their earthly existence during the lasttwelip
/1101101 S.
EAn T lite' A K.l; IN V UV: I N - - The shock
of an earthquake is said to
,have been felt in
several places in Virginia, on niday
The ltichtnond Pod! says :
A t Clarksville there was a rumbling, rattling
sound,-which resembled somewhat the noise
made by a four horse coach in rapid motion, or
:t wagon with an'oupty hotly, running raFidiv :
Mourn a I otigh hill. ('rockery standing on the'
table tva. isibly shaken.
At IV vlesburg. the houses wete shaken;itnd.:
ohe gentleman was waked tip by the severejar
Anil Alarmed by the cracking sound of
his house. he jumped out of bed considerably
frightened, and ran out to sec it his house was'
not on tire at the top.
In Prince Edward, we learn the shock .trai
still greater. In Halifax. it was sufficient .to
wake persons from sound.slecp. .We are sur-,
prised to learn that no person in Richmond was
aware of an earthquake in thiss - r - eiion at aTf.
11 kap TIMES AND WANTS.—Virtue - wants
more admit erg: wisdom more suppliants; truth
more real friends : and honesty more itracti-,
tioners. The trader wants more profit, and less
envy of his more fortunate neighbor. Religion
wants inure said about the theory, and' more
dune in the - wax of practice. Philanthropy
wants a residence. and : , fidelity an asylum.
Love, charity and our hanks want to he iu bet
tei credit.—Pride wants to be discarded. and
modest diffidence introduced. Evely old Bach
elor wants a wife, and every girl of sixteen a
hu,band. Every creditor want.s his bill paid,
and every debtor wants money to pay
[7,14.1"1ic plk_4sure of doing good is the only
ouc which doca nut. wear out.
NO. 21.
MMLI
=1