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But to melt thy hated chain,

Is it that thou comest forth? Wend thee to the sunny south, To the glassy summer seaAnd the breathings of her mouth Shall unchain and gladden thee!

"Roamer in the hidden path,

'Neath the green and clouded wave! Trampling, in thy reckless wrath,

On the lost, but cherished brave; Parting love's death-linked embrace, Crushing beauty's skeletonTell us what the hidden race, With our mourned lost have done!

66 Floating steep! who in the sun,
Art an icy coronal-
And beneath the viewless dun,
Throw'st o'er barques a wavy pall!
Shining death upon the sea!

Wend thee to the southern main: Bend to God thy melting knee

Mingle with the wave again!"

We shall conclude our "Sketch," already protracted! beyond its designed limits, with a feeling tribute to Rockwell's memory, from the pen of J. G. Whittier, Esq., at the time editor of the "New England Weekly Review," from which we made an extract above.

"TO THE MEMORY OF J. O. ROCKWELL. "The turf is smooth above him! and this rain Will moisten the rent roots, and summon back The perishing life of its green-bladed grass: And the crushed flower will lift its head again Smilingly unto heaven, as if it kept No vigil with the dead!

Well! it is meet

That the green grass should tremble, and the flowers
Blow wild about his resting-place. His mind
Was in itself a flower, but half disclosed-
A bud of blessed promise, which the storm
Visited rudely, and the passer by

Smote down in wantonness. But we may trust
That it hath found a dwelling where the sun
Of a more holy clime will visit it,
And the pure dews of mercy will descend
Through heaven's own atmosphere upon its head.

"His form is now before me, with no trace
Of death in his fine lineaments, and there
Is a faint crimson on his youthful cheek,
And his free lip is softening with the smile,
Which in his eye is kindling; and the veins
Upon his ample forehead wear the sign
Of healthful energy. And I can feel
The parting pressure of his hand, and hear

And fever of an uncongenial strife, had left Their traces on his aspect!

Peace to him!-

He wrestled nobly with the weariness
And trials of our being-smiling on,

While poison mingled with his springs of life,
Anguish was resting, like a hand of fire-
Until at last the agony of thought
Grew insupportable, and madness came
Darkly upon him,--and the sufferer died!

"Nor died he unlamented! To his grave
The beautiful and gifted shall go up,
And muse upon the sleeper. And young lips
Shall murmur, in the broken tones of grief,
His own sweet melodies. And if the ear
Of the freed spirit heedeth aught beneath
The brightness of its new inheritance,
It may be joyful to the parted one,

To feel that earth remembers him in love!"

The poet, in his plaintive dirge, has said all that can be said, of praise and of sorrow. We can only res pond, in the prayer which the pious catholic breathes over the grave of his sleeping friend-requiescat in pace.

C. W. E.

NOTES AND ANECDOTES,

Political and Miscellaneous--from 1798 to 1830.-Drawn from the Portfolio of an Officer of the Empire-and translated from the French for the Messenger, by a gentleman in Paris.

AN ESCAPE.

I have stated that the Court of Peers condemned five of the prisoners to imprisonment; it had afterwards to assemble for the trial of one of the accused, who had suffered himself to be arrested after having been condemned to death for contumacy. This person was the old lieutenant-colonel of the imperial guard, who was to have directed the movement at Cambray. Thanks to the provoking agents, and the open intervention of the police in the conspiracy, the penalty of death was reduced to an imprisonment for five years.

The principal result of the trial of the lieutenantcolonel, was to procure the escape of one of those previously condemned. This evasion was accompanied by circumstances truly original. The individual who had been condemned, was the captain of infantry, Lamothe, a talented, bold and handsome fellow. He was confined in the prison of Sainte-Pélazie, where he was to remain five years. He had been treated with great kindness. The trial of the lieutenant-colonel lasted four days, and on each day, the captain, who had been summoned as a witness, was taken from his prison, by an officer of the Court of Peers, for the purpose of being conducted to the Luxembourg, in a carriage, and under

His last "God bless you!"-Strange--that he is there, the guard of a gendarme.
Distinct before me, like a breathing thing,
Even when I know that he is dead,

And that the damp earth hides him. I would not
Think of him otherwise-his image lives
Within my memory, as he seemed, before
The curse of blighted feeling, and the toil

The captain devoted the three first trips to securing the good will of the officer of the court and of the gendarme. He appeared gay and communicative-related anecdotes of the garrison, praised the proceedings of the Court of Peers towards him, declared that he had never been happier than he was since his confinement

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 XVII 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 ?"

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"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 substi tute. 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 opinions 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 executioner 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 attend-1 ties an effective co-operation in men or subsidies. The

ing 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 Villèle 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.

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 Quésada 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 religious 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

plied:

expected this application; he re

"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, The ambassador of France, M. Mathieu de Montmo- he was stopped by M. de Montmorency, who, addressrency, and M. de Chateaubriand, who had been asso-ing him as French Ambassador, to a subject of the king ciated with him, were instructed not to propose a war of France, begged him to inform him what political with Spain; and in the event of its being necessary to matter had been the subject of these long conferences submit to one, to obtain from all the contracting par- 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:

army had visited the magazines, and found them filled. The order of departure was about to be given, when a rumor suddenly spread through the army that no precautions had been taken; that the magazines were

serious character, in consequence of resistance from the population, the army would, in a few days, be exposed to want of provisions.

"The Emperor never ceases to declare his surprise, that M. de Montmorency, the first christian baron, has not yet proposed a crusade against Spain." After these words—first christian baron and crusade-empty; and that, in the event of the war assuming a M. de Montmorency could no longer restrain himself; and after exchanging some words with M. de Chateaubriand, he retired home, followed by M. A. de J—, and passed the night in preparing a note, in which he demanded permission from the congress, for France to undertake a war against Spain. M. de Montmorency spoke in his note of the assistance and subsidies that France would hope to receive from her allies; but the congress, without taking any notice of this second part of the note, hastened to acquiesce in the demand contained in the first.

This was the whole secret of the war with Spain. M. de Villèle found it necessary to make the best of the misfortune, and he declared to the chamber: That if we had not attacked Spain, it would have been necessary to think of defending our northern frontiers.

M. A. de J- was recompensed for the mission which he had so well conducted, by the grant of a loan, which afterwards became the Guébhard loan, as if it was not sufficient for France to have suffered one such bloody mystification, but necessary that she should pay the expenses of a second.

THE OUVRARD AFFAIR.

The Marshal, Duke of Belluno, was minister of war in 1823. The Duke could never have been regarded as an officer of the highest talents; but important commands were entrusted to him during the long wars of the empire. Upon several occasions, he commanded detached corps of the army; and consequently he must have known the precautions necessary to secure the subsistence and transportation of an army during a campaign.

In the same year, 1823, an officer of the highest merit was director-general of military subsistence.

The Spanish war had been proclaimed several months in advance, and everything should have been ready at the moment of the army's passing the Bidassoa, otherwise the minister of war, and LieutenantGeneral Count Andreossy, director-general of military subsistences, must have been guilty of a negligence that might, without much scruple, be denounced as

treason.

The period within which the provisions were to be collected at head-quarters, had been so regulated as to allow the military intendence to avoid the necessity of making forced purchases, at high prices, in the event of any delays on the part of any of the contractors.

These forced purchases were not to be the cause of any injury to the public treasury, it having been arranged that the difference of price was to be covered by the security required of the contractors.

Some well disposed generals received and propagated these rumors, and, without further examination, a forced purchase, at an exorbitant price, was contracted with le sieur Ouvrard, by the same intendant, who had a few days before testified to the existence in the magazines of all necessary provisions.

M. Ouvrard found himself, by accident, at this time in the environs of Bayonne; and also, by accident— thanks to his prodigious activity-he found himself prepared to execute, in a few days, what the minister of war and the director-general of military subsistence had been unable to accomplish in several months.

The Duke of Belluno had caused himself to be named major-general of the army; but the Duke d'Angoulême, on his side, had chosen lieutenant-general Guilleminot, for his major-general. The Duke of Belluno proceeded to his post; he arrived at Bayonne, and without having received any of the reproaches which his negligence merited, was invited to return by post to Paris. The campaign commenced, and everything marched as by enchantment.

According to this very simple exposition, it will be seen, that three persons were designated for public vengeance; the marshal minister of war, lieutenant-general Count Andreossy, and the intendant en chef of the army. What was the consequence? The Duke of Belluno remained minister of war, General Andreossy remained director-general of military subsistence, and was only afterwards dismissed because he began to defend himself when not attacked. It appeared strange, that a general enjoying the highest public esteem, should set to work to prove that he was neither a fool, nor a rogue, nor a traitor. The intendant en chef alone was forced to retire.

How great was afterwards the surprise of all men, in the least acquainted with business, when the forced purchase was rendered public; when it was known that by one of the articles of his agreement, Ouvrard had reserved to himself the right of taking whatever provisions were to be found in the magazines of the state, at a regular valuation, and afterwards selling them to the army at the price fixed by his contract for a forced purchase!

Fortunes were to be made or restored to our ancient or new generals; the persons about the court also desired to have their part. Nothing could be gained from a war supplied by the government; a commissary was wanted-one was necessary at any price; a marshal of France was found willing to permit his reputation to be sacrificed; and afterwards deputies were found complaisant enough to suffer themselves to be contented by the magnificent reason that "the mantle of glory (the glory of the war of Spain) had covered all the little irregularities of that affair."

Never was any affair more clear. There could be but two hypotheses, either everything had been pro. vided, or those who ought to have done so should have been tried for treason. Thus passed, unpunished, the most barefaced piece of The army was assembled; the Duke d'Angoulême had robbery ever committed. Under the directory (and

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.

"How sour sweet music is:"

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.

66

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, neverthe- rounds of the press, and although anonymous, less, who wish to be thought people of taste, pre-bearing intrinsic evidence of the inspiration of the tend an admiration, and not unfrequently a passion author of the above mentioned stanzas. The leadfor it. This affectation may be traced to causes ing poem in the ERATO, is entitled, "The Peniassimilated to those which often lead individuals to tent, a Metrical Tale." It is a story founded on confess a fondness for music, when, at the same certain extraordinary events that attracted public time, they are ready to cry outcuriosity, 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.

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.

This

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