in Sainte-Pélagie, and showed himself so anxious each | day to return to his prison, that one would have thought Sainte-Pélagie had a particular attraction for him.

The last day he appeared even more gay than usual. The judgment was pronounced towards evening. He had got into the carriage with the officer and the gendarme, and it had already stopped before the door of Sainte-Pélagie. Suddenly the captain put his head out of the coach-door-he had observed a girl who brought him his meals from a little restaurant near the prison. "Make haste, and bring me my dinner immediately," he exclaimed; "I am dying of hunger." At this moment the driver opened the coach-door and lowered the steps. The captain, for the purpose of speaking to the servant of the restaurant, had placed himself so as to get out first; and since he was so much attached to the prison, the officer and the gendarme watched him with little attention. To leap from the coach-to turn quickly round-to raise with a blow of the foot the carriage steps-to close the door, and to save himself by running at full speed, was the work of less time than that necessary to read these four lines. He had, already, a start of fifty paces, when the officer of the court and the gendarme, whose boots and large sword embarrassed him not a little, were enabled to commence the pursuit. The guard of the prison, the officer and the gendarme, made the neighborhood resound with their cries of "Stop him!" "Stop him!" The captain had good legs, and it was not until full five minutes had elapsed, and owing to the intervention of some well intentioned individuals, that the gendarme succeeded in arresting the officer, who had regularly run on before him, and whose black dress resembled that of the prisoner!

The police could never succeed in discovering the captain, who, however, remained several days in Paris. He was in Spain in 1823, and towards the year 1828 he obtained leave to return into France. He is now a chief of battalion.

TWO LATIN WORDS.

Louis XVIII was fond of quoting Latin. The favor of this prince has been often secured by a happy quotation from his favorite, Horace.

Louis XVIII had just recomposed his cabinet, and was receiving the first visit of his new ministers, among whom was Marshal Victor, Duke of Belluno. The Marshal never pretended to any acquaintance with Latin, but he knew how to write, and to paint with perfection; and whenever he had a letter to despatch, he spent several minutes in practising his flourishes, for the purpose of tracing rapidly and lightly the first stroke of the M in the word Monsieur.

After some recommendations to his ministers, Louis XVIII discharged them, with these words: "Adieu, gentlemen; we will proceed macte animo." As soon as he was out of the cabinet, the Marshal stopped with a stupified air, and retaining his colleagues, said to them: "Well, gentlemen, this is agreeable." "What is ?"

"Did you not hear it?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"You may be very sure that we will not long remain in office." "Why not?"

"What! Did'nt you hear what the king said on taking leave of us?"

"He said, 'Adieu, gentlemen.""

"Not at all; he said, 'partez animaux,' (go animals.) If that is his manner, it is not very polished." The same Marshal one day reproached an officer for having come to Paris without leave, and interrogated him sharply on the motives of his journey.

The officer had no very good reason to allege in his defence.

"What would you have, Marshal," said he : "amour, tu purdis Troie."*

"Ah, well!" replied the marshal quickly, "be on your guard lest you be the fourth."

A PETITION.

There are still many persons in France who believe the place of executeur des hautes œuvres, or to speak more clearly, of executioner, is hereditary; and that the eldest son of the regular incumbent is irrevocably called to succeed to the place of his father. It is not so. The son of an executioner succeeds his father because he may desire to do so, because he may find the place a comfortable one, or because he has been accustomed from infancy to the species of reprobation which attaches itself here, as in almost all countries, to that profession.

Should the executioner of Paris, or of any of the departments, happen to die without male descendants, it will not be necessary to have recourse to arbitrary means to find a successor. There will be no occasion to take one condemned to death, and to pardon a malefactor for the purpose of securing an executioner.

In 1822 the executioner of Versailles, or Monsieur de Versailles, as these functionaries style themselves, was arrested on suspicion of his having been engaged in a robbery; and it became necessary to find a substitute. The minister of justice, who presents for the choice of the king the candidates for all places in the magistracy, and who names directly to that of executioner, received, in the space of ten days, more than seventy applications for the place of executioner of Versailles.

One of these petitions was received on the day of the king's fête. It commenced with these words:

"My Lord-on a day when the king is pleased to dispense his benefits, may I be permitted to hope," &c.

Here followed a long list of the services of the petitioner, as an aid of the second class, aid of the first class, &c. He added, that his political opiniors had been always constitutional, monarchical and religious.

The emoluments attached to the place of executioner are not so great as it might be supposed. The execu tioner of Paris enjoys a salary of 12,000 francs, neither more nor less than a councillor of state. He has, for

"I have had violent scenes with the Emperor, but he executions and expositions, fees which amount to 40

never spoke to me in such a way."

"But what has been said to you?"

francs for the former, and 30 for the latter. But these Mistaken by the Marshal for the French word trois, three. VOL. IV.-57

sums are consumed in the necessary expenses attending the erection of the scaffold, and the preservation of the instruments.

A fee of 15 francs was the compensation for every case of branding. The legislature, on suppressing the use of this species of punishment, owed a compensation to the executioners, which they have not yet dreamed of discharging.

THE SPANISH WAR OF 1823.

The Spanish war of 1823, is another proof of the truth, that the greatest effects are often produced by the most insignificant causes.

Subsequently to the arrangement of the national rights of Europe, at Vienna, in 1815, four revolutions had broken out on the continent. Spain, Portugal, the kingdom of Naples and Piedmont had successively thrown off the yoke of absolutism, and replaced an oligarchy by a constitutional government. Two of these four revolutions had been promptly suppressed. Piedmont and the kingdom of Naples were too near to Prussia and Austria to resist very long. Exile and other heavy penalties soon punished these attempts at liberty, with which even some princes had pretended

to associate themselves.

Spain and Portugal remained. Ferdinand VII had sworn to the constitution, and like Louis XVI, he conspired against it. Like Louis XVI, he called foreigners to his aid; he exhibited his broken sceptre to the powers engaged in the negotiations of Vienna.

Good will was as abundant then as now; but, as at this moment, all trembled at the idea of a partial war, which might bring about a general struggle. The sovereigns had failed to comply with too many of their promises, to rely with much certainty on their people; and all calculated, with alarm, the dangers of a war which might any day change its theatre. The ground did not appear sufficiently firm to allow them to absent themselves from home without danger.

In 1823 all these sovereigns desired a war with Spain, but no one dared to undertake, not even to propose it. Louis XVIII perfectly comprehended this situation of things; he was the only person of his court who had faith in the institutions of which he was called the august author. In his opinion, the destinies of the monarchy were allied to those of the institutions of the country, and the war appeared, in his eyes, an equal danger for both.

Louis XVIII did not desire a war with Spain. His principal minister was as little anxious for it. M. de Villele had ideas of order and stability, which any war would have deranged. He was meditating certain financial projects, the execution of which, any difficulties would have necessarily deferred.

Under these circumstances, were opened the preliminaries of Vienna, followed shortly afterwards by the congress of Verona.

The ambassador of France, M. Mathieu de Montmorency, and M. de Chateaubriand, who had been associated with him, were instructed not to propose a war with Spain; and in the event of its being necessary to submit to one, to obtain from all the contracting par

ties an effective co-operation in men or subsidies. The part then of the foreign and of the French plenipotentiaries, was to wait to see what would turn up. The foreign plenipotentiaries rigorously pursued this course. The French agents, committed by awkward zeal, and deceived by cunning intriguers, fell completely into a snare that was set for them.

Shortly after the revolution of 1820, a committee of refugee Spaniards was formed at Paris, (General Qué sada belonged to it.) The members associated with themselves several French anti-revolutionists, among others M. Bergasse, and Count A. de J. M. de Bergasse had been added to their number, as being a particular friend of the Emperor Alexander, and enabled to aid the committee by means of his influence with the sovereigns of the north. The committee determined to send a representative to Vienna and Verona, and M. A. de J— was chosen for this purpose.

Alexander was, as I have stated in another place, but the shadow of himself in 1823. There remained only enough of his extinguished faculties to enable him to appear a governor; and this remnant of intelligence was daily disappearing under the bigotted practices and reli gious mummeries of the sect into which he had been initiated by Madam Krudener. The weakness of the Emperor of Russia was perfectly known to M. Bergasse; and M. A. de J— departed, well informed of its character, and fortified by the most powerful recommendations.

The first audience that M. A. de J—— obtained of Alexander, was entirely consumed by a conversation on the doctrines of the sect to which M. A. de J— was said to belong; and from that moment he obtained his most intimate confidence. The Emperor saw and conversed with no one but him. This was carried so far, that the ambassadors, reduced to play but secondary parts, uttered serious complaints, which, however, were never listened to.

M. de Chateaubriand had not been very well received at Vienna. He was not more lucky at Verona. He was still reproached with his monarchy according to the charter. He addressed himself to M. A. de J

"You are very intimate with the Emperor Alexander; ask him in what way I have displeased him, and try to reconcile me with him."

M. A. de J— expected this application; he replied:

"You say nothing on the subject of the war in Spain: it is the favorite subject of the Emperor. So long as you persevere in this course, you cannot hope for a better reception."

M. A. de J, without any political title, had yet, as a privileged talker with the Emperor Alexander, been invited to all the fêtes. He was at a grand soirée given by M. de Metternich. There, the Emperor Alexander having perceived M. A. de J————, drew him into the embrasure of a window, and detained him a long time. The subject of the conversation was, as usual, religion.

As soon as M. A. de J reappeared in the saloon, he was stopped by M. de Montmorency, who, addressing him as French Ambassador, to a subject of the king of France, begged him to inform him what political matter had been the subject of these long conferences with the Emperor.

M. A. de J― perceived that the favorable moment | arrived at head-quarters; the intendant en chef of the had arrived, and replied without hesitation:

In the same year, 1823, an officer of the highest merit was director-general of military subsistence. The Spanish war had been proclaimed several How great was afterwards the surprise of all men, in months in advance, and everything should have been the least acquainted with business, when the forced ready at the moment of the army's passing the Bidas-purchase was rendered public; when it was known that son, otherwise the minister of war, and Lieutenant- by one of the articles of his agreement, Ouvrard had. General Count Andreossy, director-general of military reserved to himself the right of taking whatever prosubsistences, must have been guilty of a negligence that might, without much scruple, be denounced as

they robbed at that time) an affair like that of Ouvrard's | would have appeared so monstrous, that ten persons at least would have been shot. Under the empire (and the Emperor overlooked some things in behalf of those who washed their faults with a baptism of blood,) the Duke of Belluno, General Andréossy, the intendantgeneral Sicard, and some others, would have figured before a council of war, or indeed all the contractors for the army, including the generals who had become contractors, would have been put to death. Under the restoration, things were arranged in the happiest way in the world; the mantle of glory was a phrase that wound up the whole affair. It is twelve years since these things happened, and they are now forgotten. The court of assizes daily condemns to hard labor, robbers, who, compared with the contractors of the Ouvrard bargain, deserve to be canonized.

A very handsome Duchess, whose husband, born a lieutenant-general, served in the staff of the Duke d'Angoulême, said, with the stupidity that characterizes her noble family, and that of her husband

"I do not comprehend the complaints made by all the generals who served in the war of Spain. They pretend to be ruined; my husband has paid his debts, and brought away 800,000 francs."

Thus it appears, at least, that Ouvrard did not keep everything himself.

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES

OF LIVING AMERICAN POETS AND NOVELISTS.
NO. III.

WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER, ESQ.

The gentleman whose name we have placed at the head of this article, and whose poetical compositions suggested the foregoing remarks, is a native of Ohio, and has for several years past been a resident of Cincinnati. As the able editor of the Cincinnati Mirror," a literary periodical of great merit; as a contributor to the western magazines, and the editor of the "Western Literary Jourual," Mr. Gallagher has been long before the public, and his name honorably associated with the periodical literature of the West. As a critic, he was at once fearless, just, and acute; and his reviews were characterized by a concise energy, and an unusual elegance of diction, for compositions of this nature.

It is as a poet, however, we must view Mr. Gallagher. The west, although the land of romance and poesy, has yet contributed but little to imaginative literature. Mr. Gallagher is at present one of her brightest representatives at the ERATO," the name of the court of the muses. muse, who presided over lyric poetry, and tastefully selected by the poet to designate the nature of his work, is the title of a thin volume of poems, dedicated to the Rev. Timothy Flint, and published in Cincinnati in 1835, through which he first appeared openly before the public as a poet. Previous to this time, he had written and published, anonymously, several fugitive pieces, which obtained great popularity. One of these, entitled "The Wreck of the Hornet," was universally admired, and won for the writer an enviable reputation. At the time, it was attributed to the pen of a distinguished literary gentleman of New York city.

It is the fashion to affect an admiration for poetry; but comparatively few really read, and still It was probably the success of this fugitive fewer appreciate it. Who reads newspaper poe-piece that gave the youthful poet confidence; for, try, or the lyrics and polished lines of the annuals? we find beautiful lyrics afterwards going the or, who buys a volume of poems? All, nevertheless, who wish to be thought people of taste, pretend an admiration, and not unfrequently a passion for it. This affectation may be traced to causes assimilated to those which often lead individuals to confess a fondness for music, when, at the same time, they are ready to cry out

"How sour sweet music is:"

causes originating in a desire to elude the anathema, that consigns the wight who has " no music in his soul," to" treasons, stratagems, and spoils." The very existence of this affectation, attests the excellence of the wares which all would fain imitate. We will not encroach on the province of the essayist or reviewer, by giving an analysis of the circumstances that militate against the popular reception of poetry, and which the "march of improvement" has a tendency rather to increase than to diminish, but confine our observations within the limits prescribed by the nature of these sketches.

rounds of the press, and although anonymous, bearing intrinsic evidence of the inspiration of the author of the above mentioned stanzas. The leading poem in the ERATO, is entitled, "The Penitent, a Metrical Tale." It is a story founded on certain extraordinary events that attracted public curiosity, and created universal horror a number of years since. It is a thrilling tale, but as a poem, is imperfect, and bears few marks of the accurate taste and genius pervading other pieces by the same author. It is crude in conception, and betrays evident signs of having been written at an early period of life. However it might then have been idolized by the young aspirant for Parnassian laurels, he will, no doubt, like Campbell, when his poem, "The Pleasures of Hope," is alluded to, (a noble production, nevertheless,) shake his head at it. The Penitent, with all its looseness of versification; the inappropriateness of its subject, and its numerous blemishes, contains many fine passages: but they are not sufficiently numerous to redeem its grosser deformities. This

poem is divided into two parts, and is nineteen | dently the production of an earlier period. The pages, or about eight hundred lines in length.

The next article in the volume is a fragment, entitled, "The Neglected," the subject of which is explained in the following lines from Percival, which are placed at its head:

"He comes not-I have watched the moon go down, And yet he comes not."-The Wife.

It is one of those gentle and touching pictures, which the poet delights to paint. In his delineation of the deeper emotions of the heart, Mr. Gallagher is eminently happy. After eloquently picturing the sufferings of the fair young wife, neglected by him "who had won the richness of her early love," and had now

"Bowed him down

At the shrine of drunkenness,"

the poet thus speaks of woman with great truth and feeling:

"Woman hath that within

Which will not brook neglect: but either turn
With a fell purpose on her injurer,
And deeply be avenged-or brood in dread

And harrowing silentness, on the intense
And burning sense of wrong she hath endured,
Until her proud heart breaketh of its weight
Of cherished agony!"

A short poem addressed "To my Mother," and
an "Ode for Independence Day," the first, beau-
tiful for the filial sensibility breathing in every
line; the last marked by a degree of vigor, equally
partaking of the enthusiasm of the patriot, and the
inspiration of the poet; a fragment called "The
Usurer's Death," drawn with a masterly hand;
"Eve's Banishment," the gem of the volume;
May-Day Morning;" "The Bridal;" "The
Revellers," and an Elegiac Lyric, written upon
the death of an eminent artist, comprise, with
"The Wreck of the Hornet," already named, the
remainder of the volume. "The Usurer's Death"
is remarkably graphic.
We have room only for
two brief extracts from its commencement and
close.

"

"He was a man of curious workmanship:
His skeleton hand so firmly clenched a key,

It seemed the fleshless bone would burst. His hair

Was gray, and cut unevenly; for he

Had shorn himself for years, to save the mite,
The barber would have charged him."

*

*

*

"The hand of death was on him. He recoiled,

And drew his bony knees up to his chin;
And pressed his sallow hands upon his eyes,
And shuddered at the summons of the chill

“Bridal," is a fragment which bears all the distinguishing marks of the poet's happiest manner. The succeeding extract will convey but an imperfect idea of the graceful and touching picture he has ably sketched.

"And she, the loved, the beautiful, stood up
Beside the chosen one; and meekly bent
Her half-closed eyes upon her swelling breast:
And on her temples slept a raven tress,
Shading the beautiful veins that melted through,
Like amethyst half-hidden in the snow;
And loveliness hung round her, like a soft
And silver drapery. And pain, and sin,
And sorrow's discipline, on her fair brow
Had no abiding place. The various shades
Of sorrow and of gladness, came and went
With almost every pulse, like the uncertain
And silent memory of forgotten dreams.

They stood together--and their hearts were proud,...
His, of its nobleness--and hers of him!"

"The Revellers," is a short ballad in the wild German vein. A party of revellers are at their cups and a toast "To Life," is drunk :

""Cheer, comrades, cheer! we drink to Life!
And we do not fear to die!'
Just then a rushing sound was heard,
As of spirits sweeping by--

And presently the latch flew up

And the door swung open wide,

And a stranger strode within the hall
With an air of martial pride."

This intruder is not well received by the Bacchanals. He is assailed, and

Mr. Gallagher's reputation as a poet, is not based, however, upon this volume, which appears to be the sheaf in which he has collected and bound up the earlier fruits of his muse. Early in the fall of 1835, he issued a volume which he called "ERATO NO. II." It is on this book Mr. Gallagher's claims as a poet are to be founded. This volume contains sixty pages, and was likewise And conquering king. His door, long closed, was forced; published in Cincinnati; but it is much superior to The noise aroused him; and with frantic rage, the first in typographical appearance. It is to be He sprang upon the chest, and seized the key, regretted, that in justice to the poet, this volume And hoarsely shrieking-" Rob me not!"--he died." was not published in one of the Atlantic cities, "May-Day Morning" is lively, fanciful and inasmuch, as it would have extended the reputarich, with appropriate simlies and beautiful tion of the author, and given a currency to his imagery; but it is carelessly written, and evi-works which a western press cannot secure to