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'WE GO WHERE DEMOCRATIC PRINCIPLES POINT THE WAY; WHEN THEY CEASE TO LEAD, WE CEASE TO FOLLOW."
BY JOHN G. GIVEN.
EBENSBURG, THURSDAY, NQVEMBER 1, 1819.
VOL. 6. NO. 4.
ibtttlfT
r "
A Heart to Let.
by John irocoham.
To b let
To be let at a very desirable rate,
A mug little house in a healthy estate,
'Tia a bachelor's heart, and the agent is Chance
Affection the rent,r be paid in advance.
The owner, as yet, has lived in it alone.
But the fixtures are not of much value but soon
'Twill be furnished by Cnpid himself if a wife
Take a lease for the term of her natural life.
Then ladies dear ladies, pray do not forget
An excellent bachelor's heart's to be let.
The tenant will hare but few taxes to pay,
Love, honor, and heaviest item obey.
As for the good-xcill, the subscriber's inclined
To have that if agreeable, settled in kind,
Indeed, if he could such a matter arrange,
fle'd be highly delighted to make an exc!age
Provided true title by prudence is shown,
Any heart unencumbered and free as his own
So ladies, dear ladies, pray do not forget
An excellent bachelor's heart's to be let.
MXSOELL ANCOUS.
The Song and the Singer.
BY PERCY B. ST. JOHN.
It was during the early days of the great
Revolution of 1789, in the year 1792,
when a young officer, in delicate health
took up his quarters in the city of Mar
seilles for the six months of his leave of
absence. It seemed a strange retirement
for a young man, for in the town he knew
no one, and in the depth of winter Mar
seilles was no tempting residence. The j
officer lived in a garret looking out upon J
the street, which had for its sole furniture !
a harpischord, a bed, a table and chair.
Little but paper ever entered that apart
ment, where food and fuel both were
scarce; and yet the young man generally
remained in-doors all day, assiduously
writing, or dotting something on paper, an
occupation he alternated with music.
Thus passed manyjnonths. The young
man grew thinner and paler, and his leave
of absence appeared likely to bring no
convalescence. But he was handsome
and interesting, despite his sallow hue.
Long hair, full beaming eyes that spoke
of intelligence, and even genius and frank
ness of manner, all prepossessed in his
favor, and many a smile and kindly look
came to him from beautiful eyes that he
noticed not nor cared to notice. In fact
he rarely went out but at night, and then
to walk down by the booming sea, which
made a kind of music he seemed to love.
Sometimes, it is true, he would hank about
the theatre door when operas were about
to be. played, and look with longing eye
within; but he never entered: either his
Durse or inclination failed him. But he
always examined with care the name of
the piece and its author, and then walked
away to the sea-shore to muse and medi
tate. Shortly after his arrival in Marseilles,
he visited one after another, all the pub
lishers and music sellers in the town, with
.a Dundle of manuscripts in his hand; but
his reception was apparently not very fa
vorable, for he left them all with a Irown
ing air, and still with his bundle of manu
scripts. Some had detained him a long
time, as if estimating the value of the arti
cles he offered for sale; but these were no
more tempted than the others to try the
saleable character of the commodity. The
house he lodged in had attached to it a
large garden. By permission of the land
lord, the young man selected it for his
evening walks, and despite the cold, would
sometimes sit and muse in a rude and fa
ded bower under a wall a: one of the ga
bles. Here he would occasionally sing in
a low tone, some of his own compositions.
It happened once or twice when he did so,
a female head protruded from a window
above him, seeming to listen. The young
man at length noticed this.
Pardon, lady,' said he, one evening;
perhaps I disturb you?
Not at all,' she replied; I am fond of
music, very fond, and the airs you hum are
new to me. Pray, if it is not a rude ques
tion, whose are they!
Citoyenne, he answered diffidently,
they are my own.'
Indeed!' cried the lady with anima
tion; and you have never published them?'
I shall never try again,' he murmer
ed, uttering the last word in a low and
despairing tone, which, however, reached
the ears of the young woman.
Good-night, citoyen,' said she, and she
closed her window. The composer sighed,
rose and went out to take his usual walk
by the seabeach; there before the gran
deur and sublimity of the ocean, and amid
the murmur of its bellowing waves, to for
get the cares of the world, his poverty and
his crushed visions of glory and renown
the day dream of superior minds a
dream far oftener a punishment than a re
ward; for of those who sigh for fame few
indeed are successful.
Scarcely had he left the house, than a
lady habited in a cloak and hood, entered
it; and after a somewhat lengthened con
ference with his concierge, ascended to
his room, and remained there about an
hour. At the end of that time she vanish
ed. It was midnight when the composer
returned, He entered with difficulty, the
Cerberus of the lodge being asleep, and
ascended to his wretched room. He had
left it littered and dirty, without light, fire,
or food. To his surprise a cheerful blaze
sent its rays beneath the door. He open
ed it, not without a degree of alarm, and
found his apartment neatly ordered, a fire
burning, a lamp and on the table a supper.
The young man frowned, and looked stern
ly at the scene.
Who dares thus insult my poverty? Is
it not enough that I am starving with cold
and hunger, that I am rejected by the world
as a useless and wretched thing, incapable
of wielding either sword or pen, but I must
be insulted by charity? Fire, light, and
wood, all sent by one who knows my ne
cessity! And yet who knows? Perhaps
my mother may have discovered my re
treat. Who else could have acted thus?
My mother, I bless thee both for your
kindness and for respecting my conceal
ment!' And the invalid officer sat down
to the first hearty meal he had eaten for
weeks. He had left his home because his
friends wholly disapproved of his making
music a profession, and wished him to
employ his leave of absence in learning
another occupation. His mother so
pressed him, that he saw no resource but
a soldier's last chance a retreat. For
two months no trace of the fugitive had
been seen two months spent in vain ef
forts to make his chosen career support
him; and now, doubtless, his mother had
found him out, and had taking this delicate
way of respecting his secrecy and punish
ing his pride.
Next morning the young man awoke
with an appetite unknown to him of late.
The generous food of the previous night
had restored his system, and brought him
to a natural state. Luckily, sufficient wine
and bread remained to satisfy nis craving,
and then he sat down to think. All his
efforts to get his music sung, or played, or
published, had been vain. Singers knew
him not, publishers declared him unknown,
and publishers seemed doomed never to
hear him, because they never had heard
him; a logical consequence very injurious
to young beginners in literature, poesy,
music, and all the liberal arts. But he
was determined to have one more trial.
Having eaten, he dressed and went out in
the direction of the shop of the Citoyen
Dupont, a worthy and excellent man, who
in his day had published more music, bad
and good, than a musician could have
played in a lifetime. )
You have something new, then, cito
yen?' said Dupont, after the usual prelim
inaries, and after apologizing to a lady
within his office for awhile. As my time
is precious, pray play it at once, and sing
it if you will.' The young man sat him
self at the harpsichord which adorned the
shop, and began at once the Song of the
Army of the lynne. T he music publish
er listened with the knowing air of one
who was not to be deceived, and shook
his head as the composer endad.
Rough crude but clever. Young
man you will, I doubt not do something
good one of these days; but at present, I
am sorry to say, your efforts want finish
polish. The singer rose, and bowing,
left the shop, despair at his heart. He
had not a sou in the woild; his rent was in
arrear; he knew not how to dine thateven
ing, unless his mother came again to his
aid an aid he was very unwilling to re
ceive. His soul repunged from it. for he
had partea from her in anger. His moth
er was a Royalist and he was a Republi
can, and she had said bitter things to him
at parting. But most of all the composer
felt one thing: the world never would be
able to judge him, never be able to decide
if he had or had not merit; and this was
the bitterest grief of all.
That day was spent in moody thought.
The evening came, and no sign again of
his secret friend, whether mother or un
known sympathizer. Toward night the
pangs of hunger became intolerable, and
after numerous parleys with himself, the
young man ascended to his room with a
heavy parcel. His eye was wild, his
cheek pale, his whole mien unearthly. As
he passed the door of his lodge, the con
cierge gave him a ticket for the opera,
signed Dupont, who was co-manager of
the theatre.
Go thyself,' said the composer, in a
low, husky voice, and went up stairs.
Having gained the room, the unhappy
and misguided young man sat silent and
motionless for some hours, until at length
hunger, despair, wand his dreamy visions
had driven every calm and good thought
from his head, and then he dared quietly
proceed to carry out his dreadful and des
perate intent. He closed carefully the
window, stuffed his mattress up the chim
ney, and with a paper stopped every ap
perture where air could enter. Then he
drew forth his parcel of charcoal and a
burner, and lit it. Thus had this wretch
ed man determined to end his sufferings.
He made one last effort, and now in a sol
itary dismal garret, he laid him down to
die; and poverty and misery, genius and
death, were huddled close together.
Meanwhile, amid a blaze of light, the
evening's amusements had begun at the
theatre. A new opera from Paris was to
be played, and the prima donna was the
young, lovely, and worshipped Claudine,
the Jenny Lind of that time and place.
The house was crowded, and the first act
succeeded beyond all expectation, the au
dience were in ecstacy.
'She is a jewel!' said M. Dupont, who
from a private box, admired the great sup
porter of his theatre. A roar of applause
from the pit delighted at this instant the
good man's ears. Claudine, called before
the curtain was bowing to the audience.
But what is this? Instead of going off she
has signed to the orchestra to lay. She is
aboutto show her gratitude to the audience
in verse. M. Dupont rubs his hands, and
repeats twice between his teeth, 'She is a
jewel!' But with ease and rapidity the
! band has commenced pla)ring upon an un
known air, and the next instant M. Dupont
is standing up with a strange and wild look.
Hushed and still was every breath; the
audience looked at each other; not a word
of communication takes place; men shud
der, or rather tremble with emotion. But
the first stanza is ended; and then a frantic
shout, a starting of all to their feet, a wild
shriek of delight, a thousand voices thun
dering the chorus, shows how that song
has electrified them.
M. Dupont frowned, for the air and
song were not new to him; it was the 'Song
of the Army ot the Rhine' he had refused
that morning! But Claudine proceeds;
again the audience is hushed in death-like
silence; while the musicians, roused to an
unusual degree of enthusiasm, played ad
mirably; and Claudine, singing with all
the purity, feeling and energy of her ad
mirable voice, plunged hej. eyes into every
corner of the house in vain. At each
couplet the enthusiasm of the people be
came greater, the anxiety of the singer
more intense. At length she concluded,
and never did applause more hearty, more
tremendous, more uproarious, greet the
voice of the public songstress. The ex
citable population of Marseilles seemed
mad.
When silence was restored, Claudine
spoke: 'Citoyens and citoyennes!' she
exclaimed 'this song is both written and
composed by a young and unknown man,
who has sought in vain to put his compo
sitions before the public. Everybody has
refused him. For myself, I thought this
the greatest musical effort of modern times;
and as such I practised it to-day; and, un
known to manager or author, I and the
band prepared this surprise. But the au
thor is not here. Poor and despairing, he
is at home lamenting his unappreciated
efforts! Let us awake him; let him learn
that the generous people of Marseilles can
understand and feel great music. Come!
let all who have "hearts follow me, and
chant the mighty song as we go!' And
Claudine, stepping across the orchestra,
landed in the pit, and, bare-headed, light-
dressed as she was, rushed towards the
doof, followed by every spectator and mu
sician, who, however, put on their hats,
and even threw a cloak and cap on the ex
cited and generous young songstress.
Meanwhile the composer's dreadful re
solve was being carried out. The horrid
fumes ol the charcoal filled the room
soon they began to consume and exhaust
the pure air, and the wretched youth felt
all the pangs ot coming death. Hunger,
exhaustion and despair kindled a kind of
madness in his brain. Wild shapes danced
around him: his many songs seemed sung
altogether by coarse, husky voices, that
made their sound a punishment; and then
the foul atmosphere oppressing his chest,
aantening nis vision, nis room seemed ten
anted by myriads of infernal and deformed
beings. Then again he closed his eyes
soft memory stealing in upon him showed
him happy visions of his youth, of his
mother, of love, and hope, and joy; of
green helds, and the murmuring brool
which had first revealed melody into his
soul; and the young man thought that
death must come, and that he was on the
threshold of a better world.
But an awful shout, a tremendous clam
I i 1 .t .
or oursi upon nis ear: a inousana voices
roar beneath his window. The young
man starts Irom his dream; what is this he
hears?
"Aha amies? ciloyene,
Forincz vos bdttalljynt." At-c-
he cries.
Mv Song of
He listens. A beautiful and clear voice
is singing; it is still his song, and then the
terrible chorus is taken up by the people;
and tha composer's first wish is gained;
he feel that he is famous.
But he is dying, choked, stifled with
charcoal. He lies fainting on his bed; but
hope andjoy give him strength. He rises,
falls rather than darts across the room,
sword in hand. One blow shivers the
panes of his widdow to atoms; the broken
glass l&s in the cool sea-breeze and the
splendid song. Both give life to the young
man; aid when Claudine entered the room,
the composer was able to stand. Ten
minutei after, he had supped in thepor
ter's lodge, dressed, and come out, to be
borne in triumph back to the theatre,
where hat night he heard, amid renewed
applause, his glorious song sung between
every actj and each time gaining new lau
rels. !
Ten days later, Rouget de Lisle was
married td Claudine, the prima donna of
Marseilles, and the young composer, in
gratitude , to her and her countrymen,
changed tie name of his song, and called
it byr the pame it is still known by "The
Marselluse!"
THE FAITIIFCL DOG.
A Story of Daring Bnrglary.
BY rXCLE TOBY.
The Messrs. Hubert kept a very exten
sive jewelry establishment in one of our
large cities, and for better security of their
store against fire and other casualties they
employed one of their clerks to sleep in it
at night. The idea of their store's being
attacked by robbers was not for a moment
entertained, but it was for other objects,
such as security ogainst fire, and the like,
that young Loring, the clerk, slept there,
for he was not supplied with any weapons
to repel an attack of thieves. But one
dark, dreary nght he was awakened by a
singular noise which resembled that which
a party of burglars might produce in an
attempt to enter the building, and looking
toward the back, windows, he was soon
satisfied himself that one or more persons
were endeavoring as quiet as possible, to
effect an entrance at that quarter. Thev
had already removed part of the sash and
shutters with their cunningly devised in
struments, and must have been at work
sometime before he was awakened.
Now young Loring regretted that he had
no weapon, but not through fear, that was
not a characteristic of the young gentleman
but that he migh; pepper the rogues a lit
tle. At first he was determined to cry out
and arouse the watch, but as they had ad
vanced so iar belore he was awake, he
thought he would drive them off by strata-
WW " .
gem. lie supped on his clothes quietly,
and approaching the spot where the
thieves were busy, he saw the hand of
one of them passed inside of the shutter
into the store, in its owner's endeavors to
guide a small handsaw with which he was
cutting a small aperture lor his body to
pass through. '
Young Loring attempted to chop off the
hand with a small hatchet that lay hard by
but he refrained and bethought himself of
a powerful preparation of caustic vitrol
and other penetrating stuffs that were used
in the testing of the purity of silver and
other metals. One drop of this would cat
instantly into the flesh and produce a poi
sonous sore in ten minutes time. He cau
tiously dropped a little upon the burglar's
hand, an awaited the result.
Bill,' at length exclaimed the burglaso
his comrade, I've got a cursed burning on
the back of my hand. It's so sore I can
hardly work the saw. Phew! how it
smarts! : I guess I've cut it with the saw.
Hold the dark lantern here.'
Fudge!' replied his companion, change
hands then, but don't stop.'
Take the saw yourself then! I can't
stand this pain!'
And while thediscomfitted burglar with
drew to groan ovei his supposed cut, the
.1 .(
otner took his place with the saw, ami in
a moment after received a few drops of the
fiery liquid upon the back of his hand, and
was soon groaning with agony.
Curse this saw, it has cut me too!' groan
ed the second thief.
And after sundry oaths mutually exchang
ed, until the hrst and worst attack ot pain
was over, thev renewed the attempt to
make an entrance.
The clerk permitted them to go on
while uninterruptedly, knowing that at any
moment he could stop their enorts by cry
ing out, but he hoped to hear some watch
man passing the front of the store upon
whom he could call io secure the rogues,
and he resolved to wait for this until it
would do to waitno longer. Butsoonthe
burglars had so much enlarged the hole
that they would shortlc be able to enter it
themselves.
What is this?'
the Rhme!'
Seeing that he must do something to
stop them, the clerk crept in the dark, close
to one side of the window, and uttered a
low but fierce growl in imitation of a dog.
Both of the rogues stepped back at this
unexpected interruption.
Hang it Bill there's a cursed dog in
there, I didn't know that Hubert's kept
one,' said one to the other.
A dog?
that's
bad. Curse 'em, if it
a shot or a dirk stroke
was a man, why
would fix him; but a dog's quite another
thing, for if we shoot him he'd be sure to
half kill one of us!
Bow wow, wow, cried the clerk, with
all his power as he saw them prepare to
resume their work.
Confound the dog!' exclaimed both.
Never mind; go ahead, Bill, and get
it open now. I'll fix him when we get
in.
The burglar addrescd as Bill, thrust his
hand in once more to wrench off the last
piece of wood, that obstructed their en
trance, when the clerk, having already,
armed himself with a large pair of pin
cers, seized the robber's hand as though in
a vice, and sat up such an outrageous
barking that the whole neighborhood was
alarmed.
For heaven's sake, Jack, lend us a
hand here, this cursed animal is biting my
hand off!' said the burglar to his confed
erate. Pull it away pull it away quick.
I can't.'
'Give it a jerk!' said the other.
O-o-o! I can't, murder, murder!'
This cry added to the bellowing of the
supposed dog, soon brought the watch in
good earnest, ahd the thief who was at
liberty to do so, ran for his life. The
watchman's lights showed Bill Sikes that
he had been bitten by a pair of pincers.
This is a fact, and occurred in New
York city during the winter of 1841; and
Bill Sikes served out his imprisonment at
Blackwell's Island. Flag of our Union.
Morc Silence! A Good One.
Every one who has visited the seat of
the State Government, at any time within
the last ten years, during a session knows
Jemmy Oicen the Irish door-keeper of the
House. Jemmy was once taken, in man
ner and form following, to wit:
The Governor had given a party, on the
night previous to the occasion whereof we
are going to speak, and 4Otard,' and cham
pagne had been most liberally imbibed.
The orgies had lasted untu 'wee sma
hours,' and next day nearly every body was
on the stool of repentance. The House
was particularly thin and drowsy. Not a
soul was in the lobby. The Speaker nod
ded in his seat. Jemmy sat, bolt upright,
but unconscious, in his box; while a prosy
old member was mauling away monoton
ously on some obnoxious item in the Tax
Bill. With this exception, all was as qui
et as the 'house of death.'
Aleck Clitherall, who was then assist
ant clerk, seeing Jemmy's situation, and
envying his comfort, left his desk, and go-
ing up to his victim, pinched him savegeiy
on his thigh, hissing fiercely in his ear at
the same time 'Jemmy, don t you hear
the Speaker's hammer? There's a h 1
of a row in the lobby!
Jemmy bounced from his seat as if it
had been red hot, and without waiting to
open his eyes, roared absolutely roared
lGintle?yien you must railly keen
moor silence in the lobby, if you plaze.'
r lesh and blood couldn t stand it. 1 he
Speaker laughed outright, and the prosy
member sank upon his seat. As lor J em-
my, in an instant ne aiscoverea now ne
had been sold, and started in hot haste alter
Aleck. No man ever knew how the mat
ter was compromised when Jemmy caught
up; few have been bold enough to inquire,
and those few have received remarkably
little satisfaction. Chambers Alabama
Tribune.
Beautiful and Sublime
The Hon. John J. Crittenden, indefen
ding a man who stood charged with a cap
ital offence, closed his able and powerlul
effort by the following touching and sub
lime allegory.
When God in his eternal counsels con
ceived the thought of man's creation, he
nllpl to him the three ministers that
watch about his throne Justice, Truth,
and Mercy, and thus addressed them:
Shall we make man?' Then said Jus
tice, 'O God, make him not, for he will
trample upon thy laws. Truth made an
swer also, 'O God, make him not, for he
will pollute thy sanctuaries.' But mercy
drpping upon her knees, and looking up
through tears, exclaimed, 0 God, make
him. I will watch over hira and surround
him with my crre, thro' all the dark paths
which he may have to tread.' Then God
made man and said to him, Ohman, thou
art the child of Mercy, o deal lightly with
thv brother.'
Beautiful Passage.
Lord Morpeth, in one of his addresses
to the electors of the West Riding of
Yorkshire, uttered the following beautiful
passage:
Reference has been frequently made to
the reigns of our former female Sovereigns
and indeed every Englishman must fondly
look back to the wisdom of Elizabeth and
the victories of Anne. But in shaping the
desired career of their fair and young suc
cessor, we do not wish that her name
should rise above the wrecks of armada;
we do not seek to emblazon her throne
with the trophies of such fields as Blen
heim, or the yet more transcendent Water
loo. Let her have glories, but such as are
not drained from the treasury or dimmed
with the blood of her people. Let hers
be the glories of peace, of industry, of
commerce, and of genius; of justice, made
more accessible; of education made more
universal; of virtue more honored; of reli
gion more beloved; of holding forth the
earliest gospel light to the unawakened na
tions; the glories that arise from gratitude
for benefits conferred; and the blessings of
a loyal and chivalrous, because a conten
ted and admiring people.
I most put a stop to This
A Frenchman, whose wife was to pre
sent him with the fond appellation of
father,' returned to await the happy mo
ment; and with some friends to drink
long life and a noble one, to the first born.
The punch bowl scattered its inviting
fumes most prodigally around the com
pany, and anxiety was manifested by all,
when in ran uettv .Liightfoot exclaim-
mg-
Joy, joy, sir! I give you joy!'
Vat is he Betty, vat is he?'
A fine boy sir!'
Health to the young Marquis,' exclaim
ed one, and bumpers went round.
Betty you must drink von life to the
jung Mrquis.
Betty raised the glass to her lips, when
in rushed the nurse
Joy, joy, sir, I give you joy'.'
Vat vat is de matter?
A fine girl, sir!'
Betty, said the Frenchman looking
very stern, 'vat for you say no true?'
O!' said the nurse, 'a boy first and a
girl afterwards.'
Vat two - von boy von Jille?'
Two sir!' added the dame and helping
herself to a glass was swinging it off when
in popped another
Sacre! exclaimed the r renchman 'vat
more joy?'
Another fine boy, sir!
Vat the diable von girl von boy
von garcon, tree times! Men dieu, bawl
ed the poor Frenchman. 'By Gar, i
will never do, I must go and put a stop
to dis.'
A Legal Anecdote.
Recently, while attending a court held
at H county, where Judge S
presided, a very plain question was pre
sented for the decision of the court. It
was argued elaborately on the wrong side
and when the apposite attorney fa real
Paddy, who had just waded through
Blackstone and Chitty, so as to enable him
to obtain a license,) rose to reply, he was
stopped by his honor, who informed him
that his opinion was made up against
him, and that he would have no further
argument. Paddy laid his hand slowly
upon a volume of Blackstone, and opened
where the leaf was carefully turned down
and commenced reading the law di
rectly in conflict with the opinion of the
court. ,
Slop sir,' cried the judge, 'I hava de
cided the case, and my mind is no longer
open to conviction, nor will I have any
further argument on the case.'
Oh,' said the lawyer, 'I did not intend
to argue the point, nor did I expect to con
vince your honor I only wanted to show
the court what a blasted fool old Black
stone was.
Such a shout ot laughter as went up
from every part of
beyond the means
the court-house, was
of the sheriff or the
some miuutes, when
court to control for
Paddy was fined a dollar (o his slander ot
Blackstone, and the court then adjourned
to liquor.
The Right of Discovery. A
gentie-
man nraisina the nersonai charm
of a
vary Dlain woman and by no means hand
r- o . .
some, a wag present asked him:
And why dont-.you lay claim to such
an accomplished beauty.''
What right have I to her?' said the
other. , -. -
Everv right, by the law of nation," as
the first' discoverer.'
A
with
Dark Subject. A blind darkey
an
extinguished candle in a dark
cellar, looking
thfrc.
a
tor a black cat mat wasn t