H ti)vi Ittoples llbueratc. *id ISRtrb EVE • T TRI: , ESDAY: •• DOW & • .1 . :(Offiee one west side of the.Fablie Avenne.y., TERMS.--9NE DJLLAR a year in One Dolls i% Fifty Omits if not paid within , months, and tr delayi.d until after the eviratiCat of MP year twefgollars twill be exacted. Discontinapres optional with the Pub,lishera l , less - nrrearagps are pSul. - Lettencto he Ftibilsbens on business irithlite of fice must bepost-paid to insure attention., poetry. AGel Faun? Forester: . 1111 w e „ tr 04... sa ys the Boston #tlas, from the proof; sheets o f .. lf4derhrook." now in press, by Ticknorl & Co., the plowing touching stanzas, written to? her mother hi , M JUDSON, previous to her voyagel from this po d, a few weeks ago : I G r,., in ermy 'old , teat., Mother, With iy head upon thy knee; . ' ' I've pas*.l throMeit many a changing scene, Since bins f sat By thee. oh 4 let ite look into thine eyes— Their Meek, Mk loving light Falls, liki, a glean] of bnliness, . . ) ) Upon tiy heart to-night. !, I -I've not tseen :long away, Mother; ' Few-sites loci/ rose and set • Since 1a.4. the letr , iimp on thy cheek in kissing met. 'Tis but fute, I know, Bat city long t seems; Thoughivery night I. came to thee, Dear other, my,dreams. \ The wolid has kindly dealt,'Mother, .By thichiltl tenon lov'st so well ; Thy praiers have circled round her path; And 'ias their holy spell „ ' 'Which Fade that path so dearly bright ; Whichistren-tal the roses there; Which dive the tgtt, rald , CaSt the balm On ectry breath of air. I bear arbappy heart, Mother: And/ Oppier never beat: And,evo now, new buds of hope Are blrsting at my feet. Oh! Mother! life may be a dream ; But if spa dreims are given While at !he portalthterwe stand, What tire the truths of Heaven! I henr-Ellipppy heart, Motlmr ; Set, when. fond eyes I see, • And laeoisoft tones and winning words, I ever 'think of 4tee. And the the teat my spirit weeps Unhidden fills my eye; And likel,4l homeless dove, I long Law lc . " breast to fly. , rhea I mkt very sad, Mother, • vety sad and lone; Oh ! ther4's no heart whose inmost fold Opes tolme lie thine own! Though enny smites wreathe blooming lips -While to‘e-tontis meet my ear My Metier, one fond glance of thine Were lhonsand; times more dear.. Then with a closer claop, Mother, 'Now hold me to thy heart; I'd feel iymating 'gninst my owe, Once More, before we part. And, MoOmr,.to his lore lit spot, When Ft am fail swan • Come oftloo ofi. thou can'at not ! And f thy darling pray. Ohm Elam). T LAST DOS OF MARSHAL NEL I FROM 1 3 / 1 88/..11 "15.8.P0LE0.8 - ASD HIS 1111485.1311.3:4 At length a dark object was seen to.e , merge from', the distant wood,' and soon' ate army of dive hundred thousand men was deployed in the field of Waterloo, and pin to march straight for the scene of inn. flict. Blitaber and his Prussians had corrl, hut no, GroOchy, who had been left to hi.la them in check, followed after,. In a md. ment Napoleon saw ,that he could not sus , . tan the atttick of so many fresh troops, if H once allowed to form a junction, with the al- , lied forces, s=and so he determined to stake , his fate i ne bold cast, and endeavor te pierce the a)lied centre with egrand charge of the Old gnard--and thus throwing hitni self between the two armies fight them sep Brady. P i ot this purpose the- Imperial Guard was' i„ called up, which had remained inactive dusprig the - whole day, and divided into two immense column's, which were to meet at the British centre. That under Heide no sooner entered the fire than it dis' appeared lie mist. • • The other was placed under Ney,;the " bravest of the brave,' and the order given to advance. Napoleim act companied4hem part of the way down the slope, and !hafting for a mdment in bol; low, addretsed them in his fiery, inrpituouS manner. ire told them that the battle was with them,)rnd that he relied on their valor, 4 ' Vire l'Etdpereur fr answered him with 4 • about tha*as heard all over the field of battle. I • 1. 'He then le ft them . - ,to Ney, who ordered • the charge:l 'Buonaparte has been blained for not headingthis charge- himself; but he knew he csWd not. carry the' guard so far hold them on before the artillery, Ney. The; moral' power the latter carried with iiim,lfoin the reputation he bad gain- redof being4he 44- bravest of the brave," was worth a Miele dirision. Whenever a col umn saw ihin at their head, they' . kgew ft was either 3o be trietory or anOihilifike. 2 ----' 'With the exception ;Of Maadonald,l do ,not know a ,g4nerni!'in 'the two a r mies who could hold his sokfteriso long in the faced .destruetioths he. The w e Continental straggle exhibited no sublimet spectacle-than this last effort at : Napoleon lb save his sinking empire.l Eu rope had been pot on the; plains of Water,: 100 to be liked for. The greatest military energy and skill ithe world . possOied • 6 4 . been task elf 10-tiuisitsibring' Thrones were t otteringon the ettsangoitted field, and the shadows of fugitive kind tlit - ted through. the smoke of ha*, _Mama: parte's star trembled in the zenitinatir, blazing onf!in itirnecient splendor; now 'ad.,: denly palthg - hefore his anxious eye., /toga]; wh:en the Prussians appeared on the field, he resolved Itii'.'Stahi :Europe on ,'Off . hold : thro*.• Rei camintied hitrawlf as& France ;Nip, and' sa*.bia eMpire rest on B,ajogleAluge. theinieise.:ePiciefrWifli which he. irittebedihe nth: 04;0 Shot colt ind.the terithie'suitioense44, Suffered j - then the Smoke ii,of'hittle *replied it'AOM •elight, WIC the utto - despair . o• ' trest . . - ;,,;1 j. ' . • • ';'.l" . .1 r , . , , -: 1 / 4 - • „. . .!,,. ~....,,. . 1 ,-..-. .-') .-T:, iii . I' : ! •;-:. ~, ' t ' "f>. - ,:• - • , , .. Llt4n il- •." • 1 •z C . ,.: 1 .. ' . ! • C. :',-, -, , ,s, .., '',...:!;• t; ', :, i: i . .; 't •' , :,-.- '•: ' , '...' . i •-• .--- •;..,;,,: f- . : , :: j ;,.''.•• • - . :• 7: '1; ' -, .. ~ . •. i a- • 1: 25 '.." ! : ' J::'. ; . •' I'4 '., ' - ' 1•: - F . • . • CM VOL. he ar t whewthe curtain lifted over a fugitive army, and I the ;despairing shriek rung on every side, "la Garde reculo," 4' la Gtkrde Tecate l" makes'ui forget all the carnage in iynipatby with his distress. Ney relt tine pressure'of immense respon 'Sibility km his brave heart, and resolved not no prove unworthy the great trust commit ted-to his care. . Nothing could be more im posing than the; rtovement•of that column to theassault. That guard -,had never yet recoiled before t> human foe, and the allied .forces beheld.wilh . aive its Grin and terrible adiatiee'to the•fimil charge. For a moment the batteries stoOped playing, and the firing - Ceased along the British lines, as, without , e beating of &drum or the )blast of a bu gle . to steer their steady courage, they moved in dead silence over the plain. The o. o .4.fltontent die artillery opened, and the 'head of that gallant column seemed to sink 'lnto the earth. Rank after rank went down, yet they neither stopped nor faltered. Dissolving squadrons, and whole battalions disappearing one after another, in the des tructive fire, affected _not their courage.— The ranks closed up as before, and each treading over his fallen comrade, pressed• firmly on. The horse which Ney rode fell under him, and . he- had scarcely mounted another before it also fell to the earth. Again and itg•aiti did that unflinching man feel his steed sink down, till five had been, shot under him. Then, with his uniform riddled with bullets, and his face singed and, blackened with powder, he marched on foot With a drawn sabre at she (ced of his men. In vain did the' artillery hurl its storm of fire and lead into that living mass. Up to 'She very muzzle they pressed, and driving She artillerymen from their own pieces, tcashed through the Enlist' line. But at hat moment, a file of soldiers who had laid flat on the ground, behind a low `ridge of earth, suddenly 'rose and poured a volley in their, very faces. Another and another fol lowed till' one broad sheet of flame rolled on their bosoms, and in such a fierce and en expected flow, that human courage could not withstand it,. They reeled, shook, snig gered back, their fled. Ney was borne bar k with the refluent tide, and hurried over the field. But for crowds of fugitives that forc ed! him on, he nould have stood alone and, fallen in his footsteps. As it was, disdain ing i to fly, though the, whole army was fly iti, he formed his men into squares, and endeavored to stem the terrific current, and would have done so, had it not been for the thirty thousand fresh Prussians that pressed on: his exhansted' ranks. For a long time these squar• stood and let ,the artillery plough the . But the fate of Napoleon a l, was writ, a d though Ney doubtless did , what no oth r man in the army could have done, the 11, cree could not be reversed.— , The star that had blazed so brightly orer 1 the world went down in blood,'and the, " bravest of Ithe brave" had fought his last battle, It Was worthy of - his great name, and the charge of the Old Guard at Water loo, with him at their head, will be / pointed to by remotest generations with a shudder. , We now come to an expiation of his trea son by a 1)0'11M-execution. The 1 41 es, af ter they assepibled in Paris, demanded some victims to appease their anger. Many were-, selected, but better council prevailed, and 'they were saved. Ney was a prominent example ; be had routed their armies too (frequently and too nearly wrested their crowns from them at Waterloo, to ,be for given. It Avas intended at first to try him by martial law, but the Marshals of France refused to sit ie judgment on so brave, gen erous and heroic a warrior. By a royal or dinance, the Chamber of Peers was Idirect ed to try him. S!urning to take advantage in any technicalities of the law, be was speedily fotind gUilty and condenXned to death, by a majority of a hundred and fifty-- . two. Seventeen were only found to ivote in his favor. That, be was guilty of treason in the charge, is evident, but not to than extent which demanded. his death. NO man had done more for France than he; or lotted her honor and glory with a higher affection, and his ig nominious death is a .lasting, disgrace to the French nation: Justice was the ex- , case,' not the ground, of his condemnation. Tabare carried out the, principle on which hi s sentence Was based, would hard ended in a public massacre. Ney and Labedoy ere were the only victims offered uP to ap pease( an unjust hatred. ; Besides, I Ney's person was :sacred under is solemn I treaty CWellington had himself made. Onet of the I articles of that treaty expressly declared that [.,d t f fn 0 • - ierson should be . arrested for-lhis po litieal condom during:the bundred days."— )p such conditions was Paris surrePdered, I and there never was i more flagrant viola tiOn:Ofiiaticinal honor than the trial ( f Ney. he Whole , affair, from begimiingto end / 1 ' triii , deliberate murder, cemmitte t from 'feelinis.otrevenge alone. Napoleoa never ' did iwtiase in act in his life—and of Wel lington'is ' forehead is a spot that she U grim darker ileithltirne, and cause many .1 C*e to be muttered over - hisigrave. He should have inierfeeedM save' n.gallant anmy Sit. the hazard of his life, but he let 1 i t hon- Or go down before the clamor of v . ' vindictive enemies, and became _ 'a murderer in the sight of they world. :.', Ney-was publicly shot i lea* I , ta it traitdr. ' ' 4- ' ' : • ' • 1 its *last moments' did`n ot, disgrace his bre; - ,liett*tot calledlfivin . his , bed, and a I iratnitO sleep to hear lila 'sentence , cL Alt the' preamble went on enumerating many "t4lO, 4 - :liiiitify ' , frac' in-- 4 ' , WhY . c annot t ynit . .iimpli c.4l Me ifilellifONey now a / FM4 6 :4 O * - akid soon' a • heap of int 1" I The lasi interview with' hii Wife an child ian':ihnkgt-ills •stem heart more than all the . attles lie had passed through, or is. tip= ti' colie t l ifor ilifith) ' This over; be i slimed - is wonted . 'eadmness,' f In reply - .'to :Eine '.4 . 1 hisi'aentioeisi ' who said, 4 1 Mars :;.yo u ahmild . .naW,,thenk of death ;". he _. plied, rl i' 4 6 10 iiii ) o4o;o 2.ll 4 ll Y-nog t sito'l4 p elf ' ,i i 1 4) diet": . B4ti recolleeting% him . Ate ~._ .„ .. c7t- . , •'' ' i ,'•,,,,, 4 0 ' , 1 a a .00 0 .. 1 °P1. •:cornrades!lllll.N.o reit. EP*. i ~.,*,gurgq, of-St . Pal ice; I 7irdi die it mes, ai. eVaistiailP' .4.114 , "EVERY iIITTERENCE OF 0 NION IS NOT A DIFFERENCE OF' PRINCIPLE.r--JErreiesow 4•O7llOE,'.ll4:A._:,THuRisikAY.sEpT.. 17, 1846: 1 . ' 1 4lighted fro the coach, he advanced, to- Ward the filel'of soldiers drawn upasexecu 4oners' ; with !the Same calm mien he was 'OM to exhii.it on the field of battle. An Officer stepping forward to bandage . his eyes, Ile stopped h m with a proud interrogation, 'tare you igr oraut that for more than twen ty „years I have been accustomed 'to face I),ntli ball and - bulletsl" Hp then took 9fr his hat, and with his eagle eye, note sub ctued and splemn,. turned toward heaven, said -with-the same calm and deeided voice that had larded the tide of so many battles, I declare before God and man that I have kever betrayed my country; niey my death render her happy ; vive la Frante ' He hen turned o the soldiers, -and gazing on them, struck' one hand upon his , - heart and tny eorerades, fire ott:„.Me." Ten. liens entered! him, and he fell dead. Shame upon Ids judges, who, for t o single act, Should condemn one braver and nobler than them all, to; so base a deeth. A sterner Warrior never trod a battle-field—a kinder Heart never beat in a liuman.bosom, and a tkuer patriot. never shed his blood for his country. If' France never has a worse traitor; the day of her betrayal will be far distant, and if she has no worse defender, disgrace will. never visit hey armies. Says Colonel Napier, in speaking of his death, it thus, he who had fought five hundred li.attles for France—not one against her— was shot as a traitor." His wife was on her knees before the king praying for his pardon when the fatal views was brought to her', and immediately fainted away, then went' into convulsions, which - well nigh added another victim to this base murder. His father, who loviid him tenderly as the son. of his pride and the glory of his name, was never told of his ig dominious death. He was at this time ei g hty-ei g ht years of age, and lived to be a hundred years old. He saw, by the mourn ing weeds of his family, that some catastro phe had happened, and his father's heart tbld but too well where the bolt had struck; hut he made no inquiries, and stbough he Ilved twelve years after, never mentioned his son's name, and was never told of his fete. He knew he was dead, but he asked riot how nor where he died. • ; From the Philadelphia Dollar Newspaper THE BURIED BOX. Legend of Philadelphia. What is it to dreamt it is to Imicr The talisman of motion, and soar on To the high places of the upper air, Like a superior spirit.— TN/is. With regard to the cause of dreams, one othe most able and most rational of philos- ; 4nhers (the late Mr. Baxter,) Whom the present age or any nation bas ,produced, dmonstrates, that dreams—even all dreams ihatever—proceed only from the agency of tiuembodied spirits of the human mind. We 4tould call this beautiful idea the poetry — of 4reams. o p et of the phikv of mind has been l;ess explored or less understood than dreams: Oaring sleep, the faculties of the body, arc iiispended, but the mind continues active. In many cases, dreams are evidently caused oh influtnced by external impressions ; in dithers, they seem to be the recollections of those associations the current of thought car. ties through the mind without the guidance - of the will. In some, hot very common, in glances, the mind appears to be free from the shackles of matter, and to have clearer views 5 ivid even glimmerings of future events ; and is otbers-tigain, the highest poivers of the mind stem to be called into exercise under the influence of the will. .- 2 ; ) ."I am not given to dreaming—visions set. dom trouble me or disturb the quiet of my Slumbers ; yet are there some : things in 1 dreams which are beyond our philosophy to define, or reason to explain. I have always considered. dreams as a part of the mystery ' of nature, through which Deity conveys the Wonders of His almighty,power. 1: It was my good fortune, as' the sequel will sthoiv, to reside in an old stone house, built al. a period when the Swedes located here rind erected their peculiar style of houses in iihrious parts of the city proper, then fiinci fiilly laid out on paper, framed by old - Billy Bean, and which in after years became .the second if not in point of wealth .and intellect die first in the Union. Oh !' heti I loved that old Loose, and still revere its tottering and dilapidated walls! There issomething Awed in the old buildings--they are low- . elated with the legends of the past, and. stand as the monuments or former ages. ' Stories ~ yinumentble were told of this house—nanny dr them were enough to appill , the stoutest heart; and when the report , Was raised of &being haunted, I smiled at the ignorance dnd- .folly.of those who believed in:. such ,41iiigs. ,I , have passed many a, pleasant flour beneath that old moss-covered roof. 1 krew op; became a ,man, and the .hatinted liouie was my only patrimony. It was now. tiloved it most, for if had,served as . 4 me- 1 itento to remind me of other dayi and'eall . dpilie - images - of those whose memories dwell foreverin the 'heart. ;: Now came my 444 7 —dou4,t,ind. skepticism Tensed torhave Arty influence with , me—the, reality, ,the '4litit,''Or "the spirit Of a dream," appeared, and:thui invested 'die mansion in the niatitle iiiif superstition in - which it stands enveloped :Oen:to this day.' . : ' , ~ , , ••• • I..,dreampt.:fin three Lights in successionin iitiiiOld sailor came .to my tied-side and, 'ltitte'itii rise up and'giato The Swedestobry. lit gOitno, - titid'dig'under die' old - Mitt - W. ! .4Vood tree; . ; three steps from i 0 mini due'east, , 1 ' hen "would discover:LW:4 , , whiclu;uPon [ l ' pFpjfig,:,llytts, to. fulfill : the wriliten, instrtm ' ons contained. therein. ,The ~appeoriilee 1 hf the og:f,ioiii . ' , wii'di4..tn4—ie' lulu es p ) ;-, -4t diies.,:wereitis.onelongjouggitwAe4 1. 10s*, stood . at. my ,bed -iiide t .„ - f):•:,*.ere. - ,.**rlo'.. lin* in ,anger. to bun..' The repeti4iM;'iiiidiiiii eiirne# iiiiiiei,4ll'' r ionipiredloitililiw hie siiPersti , 'O i en,' indi 'iiiiisminecltofollow.,the vision!: t , - I . -,, =MI CHAPTER I Dreams. instructions, and find o6t, if possible, this mystery'of a dream; 'Or' the - secret of the buried Nix: CHAPTER 11. Bla4 Joe. , But on course remained, and that , was to dig for the buried box and, if discovered, obey the instructions am,' mysterious visiter. This must be done quietly and secretly, and in the dead hour of night. I looked around amongst my acquaintances to find, if possi ble, +mein whom I could confide, but not one presented himself., They were all wild and reckless spendthrifts, with whom a se cret would be as moue, ln their pockets. 'Their ,very thoughts were extravagant.-- With them, therefore,l had no chance • for if my adventure should turn out a fai lure, what a glorious opponunity would it aPrd them for amusement at my expense ! No, I must seek some other.' I did soi--one the very reverse of my boon companions—an old negro, Black Joe.. Who is it that does . not remember that good old soul He was every man's friend, and everyman was his. I liked Joe; hence 'my choice. Joe was discreet and honest in the extreme. I called upon him and related my story, only bow er in part. I did this for, the purpose of do ing away with an impression he had that we were bound upon a ‘.‘ resurrectionary jour ney,"as he termed it. ' "Luck you., Massa, nigger no like M dig up human bones; it is not Christian-like ; and den* rni,,wht be dat,he come across he relation. •.I,la ha! Massa, wouldn't dat be a wood joke if doctor, some time when he look for de - ser*ct, should find he own'ilesh and blood l 'Ha!: ha l• by oily, but knife fall d—n quick. ,Ha fha 1" "But Joe our object is ditlewpt—we look for Llios containing papers,'may be trea sure 'itind if ypu will assist me manfully—" " Why, Massa, I be mail." "Well, know you are, and a right hon est one, toii; so if you will go with me, I'll give you five dollars--a good night's work, Joe." Perhaps, Massa, if bOx be big, he take two night, eh'!" • ".4h, Joe, you have an eye to a good job." " But, Massa, you tell poor nigger a strange story 'bout dis ',tissues& 'Pose ghost come, —'pose he broad right foment us, and shake he - ghastly head Z By golly, Massa, but Joe go dead." " Pear nothing. You' will go ?" " Yes, Massa, I go--debit or no debil— nigger never break he word, no how." Well: to-morrow night I will call for you—say eleven o'clock: "Nigger at home—he never go out at night, no how." " Good night, Joe." ;-:- "GO4 bless you, Massa, take cafe of 1 host ? Ha! ha!" , it, . . CfIAPTEII 117. An Adventure. It was night when I quitted Joe's resi dence', and; as it was early, I concluded to walk an hour or so before I retired to rest. -The moon shone ,brightly, the streets were silvered o'er with its prideless rays, and the gentle breete wantoned along the lanes of the city, reviving and purifying the air as it passed. How beautiful is night. There is something holy, sacred and mysterious in night. It seems as if the black pall of death was spread over all things and hushing na ture into slumber. The silence, the sombre shadow of the tall trees, disturbed occasion ally by some far off, sound, or the rising wind, and then the many strange voices of night, which comeupon the ear, renders it at aIL times, to reflective minds pleasing and instructive. Night! Ghosts walk at night, —they pass us in the street as they wander from and toward the gravelard—they flit around us and whisper in out dreams. An- - gels, too, visit the earth at ;night. In the holy chambers, where innocence slumberl and truth_ reposes, whisperifig spirits meet. Their presence calms the troubled mind, soothes the fevered brain, and fills the soul with pure and holy thoughts. The smile which in dreams plays upon the lips , of in fancy is milled there by hn Angel's kiss.— Youth cOmmunes, with hedven in the dark, Silent hours of night, and the lean awakes to throb and feel howtritly best are they who Where lit Him, the great Creator of us Devils, too, , are ;broad at night. 'They are heard at, aflhours shouting, howling and blaspheming, as they wander through the streets, seeking their hdden and, polluted dens.- Satan bastempleS even in our midst. But let us Jeave this subject. I found rniSelf about ten o'clock, in the neighborhood f Washington Square then— very different indeed, was the.appearance of that section Of our city to what it now is. I will not describe it. - •