BY 15'0. H. BUEHLER.
y(n,, .XX—.Q6
FARM FOR SALE.
lIIHE subscriber, intending to leave the
County, offers for sale that *ell
(bele& the late residence of Maj. John
Tortence, decessed,) situated five miles
from Gettysburg, on the road leading to
Hanover, containing
194 A. 02,35
of first quality red land, about 80 acres of
Which are covered with good TIMBER.
The cleared land, a fair proportion of which ,
-ichtELDO-W,-44mtdoc_gocal -faucingdo
-well-tonweied.end hew -reliantly-been -moult
improved. by limeinF. and otherwise. On
said farm is i comfortable
,Dwelling House,
a large Bank Barn, with other
neie - ry out-buildings. a good Liine-
Kiln,'neirly new, an abundance of Fruit,
eke.
Possession may be bad in October, or
April, as may suit the purchaser.
elf the property be not sold before
ther2d day of October, it will then be of
fered at publ ic sale, on the premises.
AARON WATSON.
Mountplessant tp., July 18, 1849.
Ai ATPRIVATE
THE subscriber will sell at private sale
the FARM on which HENRY Haa
sy, jr., now resides, situate in Franklin
township, Adams county, adjoining lands
of King Wilson. Andrew Heiatzelman,
and others, containing
41412141106,
more or less. The improvements are a
TWO-STORY
11U Frame Dwelling House,
a first-tate LOG BARN, with a
Spring of good water convenient to the
door. There is a fair proportion of Ti
ber and Meadow on the farm, and an ex
cellent Orchard. Persons wishing to as
certain the terms, whicih will be-reasona
ble will eall upon the subscriber. The
property can be viewed on application to
the tenant
HENRY HERSHEY. Sen.
Franklin tp., June 1, 1849.—ti
it&L..gitinsit FAIR
AT PRIVATE SALE
I•HE subscriber offers at Private Sale
111 the FARM, on which he resides, sit
uate in Liberty township, Adams county,
(Carroll's Tract,) lying upon the public
cross-roads, leading from Gettysburg to
WayLesburg. and from Emmitsburg to
FairNti, containing
300 42 aralti GI
more or less, of patented land, of which
200 Acres are cleared and in a good state
of cultivation. The balance is covered
with the very bust Timber. There is a
good proportion of Meadow. The im
provements are a two-story
ROUGH-CAST
DT Dwelling l I ouse,
with, the back-building attached, a large
Barn, (part frame and part log) wagon
shed, corn-crib, and other outbuildings.—
There is a never-failing well of water, with
a pump io it, convenient to the door. The
farm is well supplied with running water.
The fencing is good, and the farm is in the
very best order.
JOSEPH HUNTER.
Aug. 24, 1849.-tf
FARM FOR SALE.
"VE subscriber offers at Private Sale,
on advantageous terms,
Ue4llllElla
situate in Franklin township, Adams coun
ty, adjoining lands of Robert Moldy, Win.
Bailey, and Win. Hamilton, within three
MSc. of Gettysburg, Containing
184 Acres and 91 Perches.
• There are about 50 Acres of Woodland,
and the rest under good cultivation. There
two
are
in Dwelling Houses
on the Farm, a double LOG
• A .tlly covered, with sheds around
4wo wells oi water, with a pump in
one of them; a sufficient quantity of Fruit
• Trees, suoh as Apple, Pear, Peach and
Cherry. There is Meadow sufficient to
make 60 tons of Hay yearly. About 1600
bushels of Lime have been put on the farm,
and about 2,000 Chesnut rails.
This would suit to be divided into two
Tracts, both of clear and wood land.
Any person wishing to purchase, will
be shown the farm, by Henry Trostle, re
siding thereon. GEO. TROSTLE.
AO' 27, 1849,-4m
.
SWING UP.
Cribtwubseribere having sold out their
4 1 L. entire Stock of Goods, are desirous
elbaing up their books as early as pos.
'Able ' , and request all persons knowing
utetnitelies to be indebted, to call and set
tle Without delay. Any persons having
,claims against the Firm will also present
,theallor settlement. Our friends and pa
trail will accept our thanks for the liberal
ietn4 morons patronage extended to us
bUsiness.
,10:3 6 the Stock of Goods has been sold
to Mr. c: W. HOFFMAN, who will dispose
Of the remaining lot nt reduced prices.
ALEXANDER COBEAN,
- .. WM. KING.
Oettysburg, Aug. 24, 1849.—tf
•‘-' Plain and rimmed Clamps.
IiaTEEL BEADS, Purse Twist, Tassels.
Silk Canvass, and Reticules,constant
ly on hand and for sale at SCHICK'S.
March 80.
111A06NETS, and CAMB RIC and
•1 MULL MUSLINS, of the Tip-Top
kinds, for sale by J. L. SCHICK.
J. GARDNER.
IittERSB MG, (Y. 8.)
HAVING purchased the stock of Goods
of my Father. William Gardner, I
have commenced business at the OLD
STAND. recently' occupiedby W. It B.
F. Gardner. where I will be happy to see
my friends and the public generally. My
stook comprises k general assortment of
DEI ENDSn
Groceries, Hardware, Queens
ware Bar Iron, Bonnets,
Shovels, Hats, Fp.,
ailotattfetriib'ttetaminedto•relt• VERY
LOW. - riviintrpartierilady invite alien
non to my large and splendid assortment of
@kelltr o
CASSIMERES, CASSINETS,
Satinets, Vestings, Cords,
SEEeMta
MOUSSELIN DE LAINES,
Cashmeres, 41pacas, Calicoes, Mullins,
Flannels, Plaid ',insert, Shawls,
Handkerchio. Gloves, Cravats,
Ribbons, Fringes, Laces, Edges,
Lc., kr.,
By strict attention to business, a desire
to gilt, satisfaction, and by selling goods
cheap, I hope to merit a share of patronage.
Please call and, examine.
Produce taken in exchange for Goods.
J. A. GARDNER.
Petersburg, (Y. S.) Sept. 7.-3 t
NOTICE•
THE Copartnership of W. & B. F.
GARDNER, having expired by lim
itation, is this day dissolved by mutual
consent. We would take this occasion
to tender to our friends and customers our
thanks for their liberal encouragement.=
Those who know themselves indebted to
aid Brm, will please call soon to make
settlement. The accounts, notes, &c.,
will be found in the hands of . WohGard
ner, who is authorized to use the name of
the firm in settling up the business.
WILLIAM GARDNER,
_ .
B. F. GARDNER
Petersburg, Sept. 3.-31,
ORPHANS' (' OURT SALE.
gY virtue of an order of the Orphans'
Court of Franklin County, will be
exposed to Public Sale,
On Saturday the 29th of September next,
AT 1 O'CLOCK, P. M., ON TEI6 PREMISES.
A Tract of Land,
situate partly in Quincy township, Frank
lin county, and partly in Adams county,
adjoining lands of Jacob Carbaugh, Jacob
Wingardt and J. do D. Benedict, containing
58 Acres and 150 Perches,
neat, on which are erected Two one-and
a-halt story
4ft.LOG HOUSES,
a Log Barn, Bake-oven, &c.—
There is an Apple Orchard on the prem
ises, together with other fruit trees. To
be sold as the Estate of MARTIN CAR
HAUGH, yen., deceased.
This property will be sold entire or in
parcels, as will be most advantageous.
Attendance will be given and term made
known by F. G. HOFFMAN,
Sept. 7.—ts Adm'r.
PUBLIC SJLE,
THE subscriber will offer at Public
Sale, on Saturday the 29th of Sep
tember put., at 1 o'clock, P. M., on the
premises, his
• • House and Lot,
situate in the town of Bendersville,
MenaLien township, Adams county, Pa.
The house is a two-story frame and plas
tered building, with a porch in front, and
a cellar underneath ; also a well of good
water. with a pump in it, close to the door;
a good frame and weatherboarded Stable
on the lot ; also over a dozen choice fruit
trees.
The. property is situated in the pleasant
est part of the town. Any person wish
ing to view it can do so by calling on the
subscriber.
ADAM SOURS.
Sandersville, Sept. 7.-I_lol
SPECIAL COURT.
NOTICE is hereby gi ven that a Spe
cial Court for the trial of such cau
ses in which lion. Daniel Durkee. Preii
dent Judge of this ;udicial District, bad
been retained prior, to his appointment,
will be held at Gettysburg, in and for the
county of Adam!. pn Monday the 15th
day of October next, at 10 o'clock, A. M.,
, Hon, k'REDICRICIL WATTS, of Carlisle, pre•
siding, when and where all parties interest
ed are requested to be present.
WILLIAM FICKES.
elierirs 0566, Gettysbutz,
86.1. 7, 1849. S to
NOTICE.
y ETTERS Testamentary on the Es-
IA tate of CONRAD WEAVICR, deceased,
late of the Borough of Gettysburg, Adams
county, Pa., having been granted to the
subscribers, residing in said Borough, no.
tice is hereby given to those indebted to
said Estate to make payment without de
lay, and those having claims to present the
same properly authenticated forsettlement.
SAMUEL WEAVER,
ELIZABETH WEAVER,
Sept: 7,1949.-ot. Executors.
NOTICE,
THOSE persons indebted to the firm
of ..BAnoitaa & C 0.," will please
call and settle up their accounte as soon
as possible ; and those having claims a
gainst the firm will please present them to
the subscriber for payment. .
SANFORD SHRODER,
Surviving Partner.
Foustaindale, Pa., Aug. 10. 1849.
GETTYSBUIG, 'PA. FRIpAY kVE NI NG, SEPTEMBER 14, 1849.
IlErla a newt somber of the N. York When,
Int god the Allowing aphited, Yet Imbibed Pow&
THE SIEGE OF. ROHE..
lIT I. T. TOClLlialltAllr.
The mellow sunsets, that with rapture fill
Claude's young disciples on the Pincian
No mare Kr...watched wittsmeditative gm, _
As melts their gold In twilight's purple hue;
Drowned Is the Pine's low whieper.by the roar
Artillery- peals like billows en the sham,
And the soft chorus of thoserenade
Yields to the cheer that MGM the berricsde
The moon's benignant ray that meetly fell
On trellised eine and friar'sguiet all,
Reveals dead'heroes, whose cold.fsceastill
Wear the stern smile that proves onoonguat'd will ;
The lofty c7presses on Mario'. height,
Like consume mourners, greet the aching sight,
For bayonet's gleam from bulwarks , beeped below,
And in their shadow bivouac the fins!
No oripurs bane by" iittterrierValeillagnihr -
The inhibit kiiijeffiatifint - Petees VIC "
But its vast concave echoes tech the sound
Of booming cannon from the pktine around—
Those hallowed .plains, whose solitude the , eye
Of wandering artist melted to deftly :
Whose fragmentary arch and brooding cloud
Forbid each tongnolproline to breathe aloud ;
Where, if a peeing foot-fall herer'd nigh, •
The frightened lizard swiftly glided by
Where Nature's bounty, in that fertile clime,
Paused, aa if awestruck at the wrecks of Time,
'Anttripread for ruthless man a neutral ground; •
With solemn hill, and holy silence round,
To check, with thought, the warrior's cruel zeal,
And bid him Life's departed spirit feel!
Vain lesson for that sacrilegious Mee,
For whom the earth contains no sacred place!
Who, in their rockiess hour, with fiendish are .
Torture a woman, and a marble sere,
And now, in Freedom's councils, may be seen
Crowning Napoleon, scorning Lamartine—
With "Free Republic" on their banner wrought,
Crusade against her, though with valor bought—
' Rome's peaceful haunts and venerable air
Make waste and lurid with the battle's glare,
Thro' Faith's own temple speed the crushing ball,
And shroud Art's trophies with Destruetion's pall !
Chivalric French! the murderous bombko hurl,
And wound a child or kill a sleeping girl !",
Shake the lone painter's easel, till no more
His eager hand the canvass may explore ;
Make drew the villa's paths with odorous gloom,
Where ilex twines and oleanders bloom;
Bid your brave rifles from their musks screen-
Shoot patriots down the instant they are seen,
And your base leader to his muter send
Tbe'mocking lie that Romans coll'him friend !
The Sommer harvests all neglected wave,
While peasants throng the country's name to save;
Nor thunderbolt nor hot Sirocco's breath
Can keep those reapers from the field of death
Pale students haste their rage lives to sell,
And dark eyed women quench the burning shell,
While Lombards, exiled fionolbeir native plain,
There wield the sword for Liberty again
Oh not alone the Dawn's aerial grime
Bequeathed by Art's apostle to his race,
But the first beams of rosy Freedom's morn
By the invader's battle•smoke were shorn !
When the guerrilla troop in bright array
Took through the gate their melancholy way ;
When the Triumvir, fearless, calm and proud,
Resigned his trust to that despairing crowd,
And over breastworks youthful cones made,
The modem Goths their tarnished flag displayed°;
When thro' the breach in Rome's once sacred wall
Filed the battalions of the perjured Gaul,
Oh, why did no celestial sign appear,
Like that which beamed when Constantine was
No sainted hero or immortal bard [ near 1
By Heaven armed, that sacrifice retard 1
And when achieved, how like a funeral knell
Through outraged Rome indignant silence fell!
Deserted balconies and streets forlorn
O'eravhchned the captors with a voiceless scorn ;
From that vain triumph Beauty's pleading eyes
Were turned, in anguish, to the tranquil skies ;
That sudden hush to each invader's ear
Murmured reproaches that he quailed to hear ;
They stole from every-house that lined the way
Whore darkened casements hid the light of day;
From Tames convent, Raphaers burning home,
The shattered combo. and the riven dome,
From lonely shrines and famine-stricken mart,
And from the turf that covers Shelley's heart!
Ignoble triumph History's faithful pap
Records this shameful wonder of the age—
A prosperous Nation, Crmitteet's wreath to gain,
Brands her own forehead with the mark of Coln :
Haden', with sword and flame, the slow decay
Of mouldering fresco, arch and column grey ; •
Blasts the Stir promise of iberne's second birth,
And stains with blood her consecrated earth!
From Sartain's Magazine.—Hy Request.
SHUT OUT THE MOON.
sr sae. Z. Oasis /MT&
In the presence of the moon and the starry
sphere., we feel no other want than to love, and
to be worthy of him—Corinne.
Shot out the moon ! she bath no welcome hem—
She maddens with her sad reproachful ray.
And with her deepening smile 60 like a tear,
That stately. calm, mortally look swim—
Shut out the moon.
Ithe glides within the lattice hushed and still,
And lays her add pale fingers on my brow—
She mod sway, there is a withering thrill
In every touch of hers upon me now,
Shot out the moon.
The madness of the pest--to-day's wild grid—
The blackness brooding lb the coming yeans—
No Gilead balm of hope tolield relief,
And wake the sealed up treasury of tears !
Shut out the, moon.
Hare I not undemeath her paled beam
Trembled with hops andjoye too bright foe earth I
Thrilled through the hours se to a rosy dream
Unto a voice too deep and toad for With I
Shut oet the moon.
And she looked on beneath her stem , crown,
And walked in queenly beentylhrough the night,
Ae now she when she glided down
And bathed Endymion in her hollow light.
Shut out the moon.
Thou queen-eyed sister of the song.god, why
Didst thou to !Aimee stoop I why didst thou pine
For human love, and thus come all too nigh
To us, pierced by Apollo's darts and thine I
Shut out the moon.
Her silver feet across the waters glide;
Her ermined mantle drapes the craggy steep;
Her fingers part the sotemn boughs aside,
Nor wake the wild bird from its dewy sleep.
Shut out the moon.
Do I not know that by the mossy brook*
She listens to the bird that darkling sings?—
And shows with her white band the Bowery noon,
Where love, enraptured love, embowered his wing
Shut out the moon.
Oh ! she doth speak too wildly to the bent,
Recalls the buried hopes and dreams of years
A fond, heart-yearning tenderness impart,
From which wo wake to wretchedness and tears
Shut out the moon.
She taketh to herself the look we wear—
Sho smiles with Love's and Psyche's plaintive eye;
She apes the stillness, deadness of despair,
Yet sits untouched, unpitying in the sky.
Shut out the moon.
Opinion may be considered as the shad
ow of knowledge. It our knowledge be
accurate, our opinions will be jest. It is
vory important, then, that we do not adopt
an opinion too hastily.
*FEARLESS AND FREE."
THE CiAß'g REVENGE.
CRVELTY Or PITO THE GREAT.
Peter the Great, the ormer—we might
almost say, the faun r--of the mighty
empire Of Russia, the nqueror of Charles
of Sweden, was a d ' and and a sen en
dist, a bad father, an ' cruel and unfaith
ful husband. Ind '. some of his acts
seem inexplicable o wise than by that
i
ferocious insanity, . ifest in more than
one of his descendantai Even his rare im
pulses of mercy were tto come too latp
to save the victim. illustrating one of
them, an incident, needy the last event of
Peter's life, is given bym. Blanc, in more
minute .details—dMit-eter:ever-betfore
with. Peter's whole rre wean romance r.
but this is assuredly ire of its most ro
mantic epiaoder. -4- 4. 4
A. short time before Os death, Peter was
violently smitten by thaeharms of a young
girl named 'veneers. Although tenderly
attached and about to be. married to an of
ficer of the reemnitutriliefortifikill',- 'she
b
dared not oppose the*, ear's wishes, but
became his mistress. Iftter, who construed
l)er reAgnance into thiliidity, fancied him
self beloved,atuk passed much of his time
in her
_society, in a 44[04 cottage in
which he had . installed . . her at one of the
extremities of Si. Pettersburg. - Re had
enriched- her family, Who were ignorant,
however, of her retrer4. Her betrothed,
whose name was Dernifirius Daniloff, was
in despair'at her disapiiesrance, and made
unceasing efforts to, diseaver her, but tql s ji ! :
vain, until Ivanows, hating made a coil&
dent of a Livonian slavivhad him conduct
ed- to her presence. The lovers' meeting
were then frequent, so much so that Peter
received intelligence ortbern. His anger
was terrible.
"Betrayed! Betrayed! every where and
always.!" cried he, eta - ing wildly about
the room, and striking his brow with 'his
clenched fist. "Oh! revenge! revenge!"
Before the close of day he left the palace
alone, wrapped in a coshe cloak, his feet
in nailed sheet, whosi,patchee attested
their long service, his head covered with
fox-skin cap, which; came down over
his eye-brows and halloelteealed his eyes.
He soon reached 'renown's house, where
the lovers decoked themieves perfeCtly
corn, for the Czar had spread a report of
his departure for Moscow. Moreover the
faithful Livonian slave kept watch in the
ante-chamber, to give an alarm at the least
noise. Peter knew all this, and had taken
his measures accordingly. Opening an
outer door with a key of his own, he
bounced into the ante-room, upset the
slave, and, with a kick of his powerful foot
burst the door that separated him from the
lovers. AU this occurred with lightning
like speed. Daniloff and 'venom had
scarce time to rise from their seats before
the Czar stood over them with drawn
sword. 'renew* uttered a cry of terror,
fell on her knees and fainted. Prompt as
the Czar, Daniloff bared hie sabre and
threw himself between his mistress and
Peter. The latter lowered his weapon.
"No," he said, "the revenge were too
brief."
He opened a window and cried hourre
At the signal, a hundred soldier* crowded
into the house. Mastering his fury, the
Czar ordered the young officer to be ta
ken to prison, there to receive one hundred
blows of the battogues, or stick,. Ivan
owa was also confined until the Senate
should decide on her rate. The neat day
Daniloff received his terrible punishment.
Before half of it bad been inflicted, his back
from the loins to the shoulders was one
hideous wound, dr.c.
We omit the revolting details. Never
theless the executioners continued testae,
and the hundred blows were counted, with
out a complaint from the sufferer. The
unfortunate Daniloff had not even fainted ;
he got up alone, when untied, and asked ki
have his wounds carefully dressed.
' , I have need to live 'shore time lon
er." he added.
Meanwhile Ivanowa wet . brought be
fore -
the Senate and, accused of high trea
son and of trying to discover State secrets
—a charge of Peter's invention. The
supple Senate ereated by the Czar, con
demned her to receive twenty-two blows
of the knout in the presence of her accom
plice, Danilott already punished by- the
Emperor's order. On the day appointed
for the execution, Peter stood upon the
balcony of his winter palace. Several bat
tallione of infantry marched past, escorting
the unfortunate Demetrius, who, in spite
of the frightful sufferings he still endured,
walked with a steady step, and with a firm
and even a joyful countenance. Sur
rounded by another escort was the young
and lovely Ivanowa, half dead with terror,
supported on one aide by a priest, and 'on
the other by a soldier, and letting her beau
tiful head fall from one shoulder to the oth
er, according to the impulse given it by
her painful progress. Even Peter's heart
melted at the sight. Re-entering his a
partment, he put on the ribbon of the order
oISt. Andrew, threw a cloak over his shoul
ders, left the palace, sprang into a boat,
and reached the opposite side of the river
at the same time as the mournful proces-
lion which had crossed the bridge. Ma.;
king his way through the crowd he droti
ped his cloak, took Ivanowa in hi. arms,
and imprinted a kiss upon her broW. A
murmur arose amongst the people, and
stuldeuly cries of "pardon" were heard.
The knights of St. Andrew then enjoy
ed the singular privilege that a kiss given
by them.to a condemned person, deprived
the exentioner of his victim. This privi
lege has endured even to our .day, not
without modification.
Dan Hoff had recognized Peter. He ap
proached the Czar, whose every movement
he had anxiously watched, slipped off his
smatandfient• the bloody shirt that covered
bib shoulders.
"The man who could suffer thus," he
!laid "knows how to die. Czar, thy re
.pentance comes too late I" And drawing
a concealed poignard, he stabbed himself
twice.—his death was instantaneous.
Peter hurried back to his palace, and
the
_stupified crowd slowly dispersed.—
Ivanowa died .shordy afterwards in the
convent to which she had been permitted
to retire.
DIRGE FOR A •YOUNG GIRL.
I:lndenmeth the sod low lying,
Dark - end Amor,
litleepeth.one.. who left, In dying,
Sorrow here.
Yak they're ever bondingm'er her,
Eyes that weep i•
Forme, that to the cold grave bore her,
Vigils keep.
When the Ammer moon,le eirinlng
aml „,•,,
Friends layemi in teats 114 tivining
chaphiii thew.
••- ge • --
Rutin pawl, lhott ntle mpirit
Throned "bawl ;
Souls like thine with pod handl
Life and -•-•
THE BICETRE, jn 1792,.
It was in the latter and of 1792 the'
Purim, who had beelseppitinted some time
before Medical Superintendet4 of lhe Bi
cetre, (a lunatic asyluniyurgently applied
for permission front the authorities to abol
ish the use of the irons with which the
lunatics were. ken Witted. Unaticceseful,
but resolved to gain his object, he repeated
his complaints with redoubled ardor before
the Commune of Paris, and demanded the
reform of this barbarous system.
"Citizen," replied one of the members
of the Commune, ' , to-morrow I will pay
you and the Bicetre a visit. But woe to
you it yon deceive us, and are concealing
the enemies of the people amongst your
madmen I"
The member of the Commune who
spoke thus was Catrrnos. The next day
he arrived at the Bicetre.
Couthon was himself, erhaps, cc strange
a eight as that which he had come to see.
Deprived of the use of both his legs, he
was always carried about on men'tvhonl
dere ; and, thus mounted and deformed,
he, with a soft and feminine voice, pro
nounced sentences of death,; for death
was the only logic at that moment. Cott
then wished to see, and personally to ques
tion the lunatics, one , after souther. Lie
wait conducted to their quarter of the buil
ding, but to all Ids questions he received
but introits and sanguinary addresses, and
heard nothing amid the eanfused cries and
mad howling but the,chilling clank or the
chains reverberating. through the disgust
ingly dirty and damp vaults. Soon, fatig
tied by the monotony of the spectacle, and
the futility of him inquiries, Couthon turn.
ml rottudio Final, end said, diath, citizen,
ars not you yourself mad to think of un
chaining such animals 1"
“Citizen," replied the other, al am con
vinced that these lunatics have become so
unmanageable solely because they have
been deprived of air and liberty, and I ven
ture to hope a great deal from a thorough
ly different method." ,
OiVell, then, do as you like with them ;
I give them tip to you. But I fear you
will fall a victim to your presumption."
Now muter of his action?, Pinel com
menced the next day his enterprise, the
real difficulties pf which he had never for
a moment disguised to himself. He con
templated liberating about fifty raving mad
men without danger to the more peaceable
inmates. -- He decided to unchain but
twelve as a first experiment. The only
precaution he judged necessary to adopt
was to prepare an equal number of waist
coats—those made out of stout linen, with
long sleeves, and fastened at the back, by
means ul which it is easy to prevent a lu
natic from doing serious mischief.
The first whom Pinel addressed was
the oldest in this scene of misery. He
was an English Captain ; his history was
unknown ; and he had been confined there
for forty years. He was considered the
most ferocious of all. His keepers, even,
approached him with caution ; for in a fit
of violence he had struck one of the ser
vants with his chains and killed him on
the spot. lie was more harshly treated
than the others, and this severity and com
plete abandonment only tended to exaspe
rate his naturally violent temper.
Pinel entered his cell alone, and addres
sed him calmly. "Captain," said he, "if
I take off your chains and give you liber
ty to walk up and down the yard, will you
promise me to be reasonable, and to injure
no one ?"
"I will promise you ; but you are ma
king game of me. They are all too much
afraid of me, even yourself."
"No, indeed, I am not afraid," replied
Pine! ; "for I have six men outside to
make you respect me ; but believe my
word ; confide in me, and be docile. 1
intend to liberate you, if you will put on
this linen waistcoat in place of your heavy
chains."
The captain willingly agreed to all they
required of him, only shrugging his shoul
ders, and never uttering a word. In a few
minutes his irons were completely loosen
ed, and the doctor and his assistants re
tired, leaving the door of his cell open.
Several times he stood up, but sank
down again ; lie had been in a sitting pos
ture for such a length of time that he had
almost lost the use of his limbs. Howev
er, at the end of a quarter of an hour he
succeeded in preserving his equilibrium ;
and from the depth of his dark cell he ad
vanced, tottering towards the door. His
first movement was to look up at the hea
vens, and to cry out in eestacy,..How beau
tiful I" During the whole day he never
cooed running up and down the stairs, al
ways exclaiming, ..How beautiful! How
delightful I" In the evening he returned
of his own accord to his cell, slept tranquil
ly on a good bed which had been provided
for him in the mean time, and during the
following two years which he spent at the
Bieetre he never again had a violent fit;
he even made himself useful, exercising a
certain authority over the other lunatics.
governing them after his fashion, and es
tabliehing himself a kind of superinten
dent.
His neighbor in captivity was not less
worthy of pity. He was an old French
officer, who- had been in chaise for the
past thirty years, havingbeen afflicted with
one of thotie terrible religious monomaniac
of which we even now-a-days see such
frequent examples. Of weak understand
ing and lively imagination, he conceived
himself destined by God for the baptism of
blood—that is to say, to kill his fellow-
Creatures, in order to save them from hell,
and to send them straight to heaven, there
to enjoy the felicity of the blessed I This
horrible idea was the cause of his commit
ting a frightful crime. He commenced his
homocidal mission by plunging a dagger
into the heart of his own child. He was
declared insane, confined for life in the
Dicey', and had been afflicted for years
with this revolting madness. Calmness
at-length returned, but without reason; he
sat •on i stone silent and immovable, re
sembling on emaciated spectre of remorse.
His limbs were still loaded with the same
irons as when first he was confined, but
which he had no longer strength to lift.—
They were left on him as much from habit
as from the remembrance of his crime.—
His case was hopeless. Dr. Pinol had
him carried to a bed in the infirmary ; his
legs, however. were so stiff and contracted
that all attempts to bend them failed. In
this state he lived a few months longer and
then died, without being aware of his re
lease.
The third presented a strange contrast.
He was a man in the prime of life, with
sparkling eyes ; his bearing haughty and
gestures dramatic. In his youth he had
been a literary character. He was gentle,
witty, and had a brilliant imagination.—
He composed romances full of love, expres
sed in impassioned language. Ho wrote
unceasingly ; and, in order to devote him
self with greater ardor to his favorite com
positions, he ended by locking himself up
in his room, often passing the day with
out food and the night without sleep. To
complete all, an unfortunate passion ad
ded to his excitement ; he fell in love with
the daughter of one of his neighbors. She,
however, soon grew tired of the poor au
thor, was inconstant to him, and did not
even allow him the cons elation of a doubt.
During a whole year the anguish of the
poor dreamer was ti,e more bitter from
concealment. At length one day he saw
the absurdity of dispair, and, passing from
one extreme to the other, gave himself up
to every kind of excess. His reason fled,
and, taken to the Bicetre in a raging fit,
he remained confined fur twelve years in
the dark cell where nue] fou id him fling
ing about his chains with violence. This
madman was more turbulent than danger
ous, and, incapable of understanding the
good intended to him, it was necessary to
employ force to loosen his irons. Once
he felt himself at liberty, he commenced
running round and round the court-yard
until, his breath failing, he fell down quite
exhiusted. This excitement continued
for some weeks, but unaccompanied by
violence as formerly. The kindness
shoWn to him by the doctor, and the es
pecial interest he took in this invalid, soon
restored him to reason. Unfortunately
lie was permitted to leave the asylum and
return to the world, then in such a state
of agitation. Be joined the political fic
tions of the day with all the vehemence of
his passions, and was beheaded on this Bth
Thermidor.
Pinci entered the fourth etlf, It was
TWO DOLLAR" 01 . 1 . , - 1P tij •
INEW SERIES:=4IO;IB.
that ef sChevingti, whore .libenitiott wee'
one of the moat memorable events of thlit' ,
day. He had been a soldier of the French
Guard, and had only one fault, that of
drunkenness. But once the wine mount
ed into his head, he grew quarrelsome,
vi
olent, and most dangerous from his prodi
gious strength. Frequent excesses can
ed his dismissal from his corps, and lie
soon suandered his scanty resources. At
length shame and misery plunged him in
despair, and his mind become effected...L.
Ho imagined that he had become a genet , .
al, and fought all who did not acknowl
edge his rank. It was at the termination
of a mad scene of this kind that he was
brought to the Bicetro in a state of fury,—
He had been chained for ten years and
with stronger fetters than his companions,
for he had often succeeded in breaking his
chains by the mere force of his hands.—
Once in particular, when by this means
he had obtained a few moments liberty, he
defied all the keepers together to force him
to return to his cell, and only did so after
compelling them to pus under his uplift
ed leg. This inconceivable act of prow
ess lie performed on the eight men who
were trying to master him. From hence
forth his strength became a proverb at the
Bicetre. By repeatedly visiting him Pi
nel discovered that good dispositions lay
hidden beneath violence of character, con
stantly kept excited by cruel treatment.—
On one occasion he promised to amelior
ate his condition, and this promise alone
had greatly tranquilized him. Pinel now
ventured to announce to him that he should
no longer be forced to wear his chains.—
"And to prove that I have confidence in
you," added he, "and that I consider you
a man capable of doing good, you shall as
sist me in releasing those unfintunate in
dividuals who do not possess their reason
like you. If you conduct yourself pro
perly, as I have cause to hope you will, I
shall then take you into my service, and
you shall not leave me."
Never in the mind of man was there seen
so sudden or complete a change: the keep
era themselves were forced to respect else
vinge for his conduct. No sooner was he
unchained than he became docile, attentive,
watching every movement of Pine!, so as
to execute his -*der! de let y e 4
promptly, addressing words of kindness
and reason to those lunatics with whom he
had been on a level but a few hours pre
viously, but in whose presence he now
felt the full dignity ofliberty. This man,
who had been unhuinanized by his chains
during the best years of his life, and who
doubtless would have dragged on this agon
izing existence for a considerable length of
time, became at once a model of good con
duct and gratitude. Frequently in those
perilous limes he saved Pinel's life; and
one day, amongst others, rescued him from
a band of ruffians, who were dragging him
off a la lanlerne, as an elector of 1789..--
During a threatened famine, lie every
morning left the Bicetre, and never return
ed without provisions, which at that mo
ment, were unpurchasable even for gold.
The remainder of his life was but one con
tinued act of devotion to his liberator.
In the next room to Chevinge three un
fortunate soldiers had been in chains for
years, without any one knowing the cause
of this rigor. They are generally quiet
and inoffensive, speaking only to each
other, and that in a language unintelligible
to the rest of the prisoners. They had,
however, been granted the only privilege
which they seemed capable of appreciating
—that of being always together in the
same coll. When they became aware of
a change in their usual mode of treatment,
they suspected it to proceed from unfriend
ly motives, and violently opposed the un
loosening of their irons. When liberated
they would not leave their prison. Either
from grief or want of understanding, these
unhappy creatures were insensible to the
liberty now offered to them.
After them came a singular personage,
one of those men whose malady is the
more difficult to cure, from its being a
"fixed idea," occasioned by excessive
pride. He was an old clergyman, who
thought himself Christ,'::: 'esiledee ewr
responded to the vanity belief; his
gait was measured and ithtsmile.
sweet yet severe, forba if dieJesist
famil
iarity ; every thing, even to thn,arrange•
moot of his hair, which hung down in long
curls on each side of his pale, resigned,
and expressive countenance, gave him a
singular resemblance to the beautiful bead
of our Saviour. If they tried to perplex
him, and said, "If thou art him whom
thou pretendest ; in short, if thou art God,
break thy chains and liberate thyself !"--•
He immediately, with pride and dignity,
replied, " In vain shall thou tempt . thy
Lord !" The sublimity of human arro.
gance in derangement.
The life of this man was a ample* ro
mance, in which religious ealbtasissin
played the first part. lie made prim•
ages on foot to Cologne att4 Rooth said
had then embarked for Amelia. whores
among theserages, he risked hisGte inihn
hope of converting the* to the Inc 4440*
Bet ill there travel*, all these soya
!.te tnelanaholy eau* of turning hiti