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- - AM~ -1 - 1 4 , .A I'M, WILIA 3* FANISDEVOTED TO SIOUTHERN RIGHlTS, DEMCAY NES LITRATURE CEC A"1 UI~ MANUEL Al. NUI _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 2 VOL1' -0.L SIJTERVILLE,1 So Ce JANUAIRY 9pi5 Extracts from late Publications. TERRORS OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. We present our readers with the fol lowing extracts from a late English publication entitled "Tales of the First French Revolution." The work has not been republished in this conutry. To the first story of the book is entitled "P asional Visits of Le Docteur No. i r, an d the scne of the medical ge_,n- I tlemen's tale, as related by himself, is principally laid in the prison of 6t. Lazaro, at Paris; a prison, that, during the terrible dominion of Roberspierre, was kept crammed to sutlocation by the members of the aristocracy and others who had been denouncel to the Coin mittee of Public Safety. The Doctor, being a personal friend and the pro fessional adviser of the Dictator, was, by his authority, permitted to attend in a healing capacity soine of his former elegant and high-born patients, those whom he had been accustomed to visit in their lordly mansions, but who, by the turn of events. had since become the occupants of a foul and disgusting prison. Amongst other beaitifiul and noble ladies confined within its wails, was the young and love Duchess of St. Aignan, and the Doctor thus relates the particulars of his painful interview with his interesting and unfortu nate patient A YOUNG MOTHER. As the turnkey opejpcd the door sid denlv, I heard a little shriek, and I perceived that Madame de St. Aignan was taken by surprise, and was a little startled so to be. As for me, I wasal ways taken by surprise with one thing, to which I never could accustom myself, and that was the pet feet grace and dig nity of4 r demeanor, her calmness, her gen Cl resigna tioni, her angelic pa tience, and her sweet and wonauily modesty. There was that in her, so rare an( so exquisite, which commands respect and submission, without ever exacting it; and oven her downeast eyes were of a power irriesistable. At this moment she was, however, a little dis Co:cerned at our sudden intrusion; but e soon reccvered her dignity and com11poslre. Her cell was very small, and at this time of the year burning hot, exposed as it was to the southern sun, and in Ttermid->r, which I assure you, was sultry as any July you have ever been acquainted with. The only means Madame de St. Aignan had to protect herself, in some dlegree, from the fierce rays of the stun, which fell full upon the littlie apartment was to hang her shawl, before the window; it was the only arti cle of dress of that sort which she had been allowed to k ee p. T1he driess she ladl on was of the simpIlest; but it was an (venling dress, and with short sleeves; it ht have been a ball-dress. She ro up blushing, with a slight "'E,! m'n Dien!I" and for a moment the tears stood in her eyes; but seeing I wa-s alone, she recovered herself immne diately, and throwing over her shoul cis a sor t of shor t, white dressing-grown, ich lay near, she sat down upon the edge of her bed, offering me a str-aw chair, the only other ar-ticle of furniitur-e in her pr-ison. I perceived that one of her feet was bare, and that she had on ler- hand a small, delicate, open black silk stocking, wvhich she ' ig. 'Good heav'ens !' cried d only given mec a hint' teen did as much !' sid iled sadly, as slie r aised a into one of mournful arked upon that no deep and solemn a new to mre, and o its usual mnelan sit down I' said she ', and with a cer ier voice, 'Since my made known, thanks yo'-'Enough en iterrupting her; 'I hate have a reprieve,' conti lie tumbr-els will come as onary tribunal.' Ioer uponi the windowv, ther-o entavy w.Udness in them. ~brels ! the dreadful tumbrels!' 'Their wheels, shako the to thoir foundations. kes me shudder. olr thie arch how slowv and his I they are r' tlpir, l9 ul, of rcen. hs.2ims iven me the intelligence. Poor Rose! ihe has a sweet voice; it is a consola ion to us all to hear it singing below ur windows, even when it is to an ounce tidings greivois such as these. Poor little thing !' She was silent a noment, passed her hands across her Ves, struggled a little for composure, 1;d1 thenl resuming her own noble and youfiding air-:-'What I wish to ask iou,' said she, resting the ends of her ingers upon my black coat sleeve, 'is, o find Inc the means to preserve my )oOr ullborn child from the influence nf iese horrors. these sufferings. I am i terror ihr it, poor little being. You neii-even you, physician as you- can lever know the p'ridc and tenierness which fills a woman's heart at such a noient !' She raised her eyes to leaven. 'Good heavel ! what a divilne :error ! what fresh and continued as. -onishment ! Another heart beating ivithin my own ! An innocent, angelic spirit, in union with my own harrassed mld agitated being ! A double myste rioulif Ie and sympathy, known and shared by mne alone ! But to think Lhat iy agitation is. perhaps, intense ilfering to this tender, invisible erea ture-that my terrors are of this, I -lare hardly breath !-I (are hardly think-I am afraid to move-I am :i'raid of my own thoughts-I reproach myself with my love, with my hate-I Jare not he agitated-I treasure my. self as if I were asaint-I do not know where to turn-this is how 1 fell.' She looked as an angel as she thus spoke, with a sort of divine terror and anxiety in her large eyes. 'lleip me, doctor! Furnish mei0 with some idea that I can keep fixed here, in my mind,' looking earnestlv. 'Save mefrom injuring -hild. You are sorry for me; I see you Ire. You know, alas ! that it is all in vain; nothing can harden our poor earts; they will hurry, pause: tremnble; >I, they will! And what will be the ate of my child ?' 'ilowever,' said Ie, alter a pause, and letting her beau iful head fa4ll with an air of despondein ,y upon her bosom, 'one thing is cer ain. It is my duty to carry this poor ittle creature to the day of its birth, vhich will be the eve of that of my ny death. I am only allowed to re nain oil earth for that. I am the frail shell whieh surrounds the precious fruit, un1d which will he broken as soon as that is disclosed. I am nothing else ! No. hin1g else now, doctor ! But do you tlink'-laying hold of, and pressing Lily hand-do you think they will let ne see it ?-Do you think they will let t be with e ljust fur a few hours after t is born ? 11 they were to take and kill me directly it wouildii be very Cruel, wouildi't it ?--Olh ! if they only give ne ti:ic to hear it cry--to kiss it and Jurse it just through one day-I think I could forgive them all the rest; I do si excessively long for that one hour !' I could only press her hands; I could rmly bend down and kiss them with a sort of religious reverence. I could not speak, aind was afraid to interrupt hiet. She smiiled through her tears, writh tire sweet radiant smile of a pretty womfani of twoc-andtwenlty, and then she went on.--'I always faney that you knowv every thing-that I have only to say wihyv! and you have an answer ready. Now, tell me, wvhy is a womnen more a muother thani she is any thing else i friend1, daughter, wvife even--less vain, less delicate, perhaps less rational, thain is her nature ? That a child, who is yet as nothring, is every thinig ? that those living already are less than it ? T'hiis is very unjust ? But so it is! W~hy) is it so ? I am angry with my self.' 'Gently ! gently !' said 1. 'You have a little f'ever. You speak too q~uick and too hurriedly. Gently.' 'Ah, lleaven !' cried she, 'and I shall never nourish it at my breast !' Anid, turn ing sudde~nly away, she flung herself npon the little bed, and, burying her race ini the counterpane wept bitterly. 11cr heart was overflowing. The Physician's servant, or rather, ais they were dlenoinrated ini those lev elling days, his asso'i<', Blaireau, was a thorough Republican and staunch friend to the sovereignty of the people; le, therefore, had considerable influ nce with the ruling authorities, and m~anaged eleverly to purloin from a L3ommissalry whno was readhing the (leatih warrants of several prisoners, a list, up. mn whieb, amunongst the names of othier parties whom lhe knew his master was lesirous of si.ving, was that of Madame Deo St. Aignan. The following thrill ing scene took place in a wretched partment of St. Lazare. In the cen tre of' this room was placedl a large dirs ty woodeni table, with food of the coar ost description thrown upon it, and arounidthis table were. seated some~ of the membc r', mr ad foiuale ofth proudest families in France: THE DEATH WARRANTS. At this moment a heavy, lumberig noise was heard, which shook the win dows, and made every one start and shudder. There was a sudden silence. It was the noise of the tumbrels. A sound but too well known; it was like thunder once heard, and never forgot. ten. It was not like the sound of com mon wheels; there was a sort of screech ing, grinding noise like that of rusty chains, or the rattling of the earth up on our biers: I turned sick, 'and the hair of my skin arose.' 'Ha ! make haste ! Eat and have done with it,' said the -hoarse voice of lafenmme Si mon. No morement, no answer; we all remaindd as if fixed in the posi tion in which we hiad first heard that fa tal roll. We are like the families of Pompeii and Herculaneum, surprised by death in the very attitude they were! in. La Simon charged plates, knives, and forks in vain; all remained fixed, no one stirred, the astonishment at this unheard-of cruelty seemed to have petrified us. To have allowed them to meet once more--to have per mitted this friendly intercommunuion of a few hours-to have taken them from their dreariness and their solitude to enjoy once again society, friendship, even love! and all to render this' sud den parting more inexpressibly bitters. 'The door was flung open, and three commissaries entered. They were clothed in long-skirted, dirty coats, top boots, and wore red scarfs; and they were followed by a fresh company of the rabble in bonnets rouqes, and armed with pikes. These last rushed in tit tering cries of'joy, and clapping their hands as at a paitomine. ihat they saw struck even them----the slaughterers 'ell back abashed before their victims, for, recovering immediately from their first sentiment of dismay and astonish ment, contempt gave them courage to meet this supreme moment. They felt themselves s> far above their enemies, that it almost filled them with a mo mentary satisfaction, and they turned their eyes, with composure, upon one of the commissaries who advanced, a paper in his hand, and prepared to read. It was the appel nominal. As soon as a name was pronounced, two men stepped forward, and led off the person mentioned. IHe was gi ven in charge to the mounted gyens d'arines outside, and immediately placed upon one of the tumbrels. The accusation was, that of conspiracy in prison against I the sovereign people, and planning the assassination of the members of the committee de salat public. The first person accused was a woman of eighty years of age, the abbess of Monmartre. Madame de Montmoirenci. She rose with some diffieulty, and, when she was standing, saluted all preseit with a tranquil smile. Those who were near kissed her hands. Not a tear was shed: the sight of blood seemed to have dried up such vain demonstrations of sorrow. She went out, saying, 'Father, forgive them, for thmey know not what they do!' A mournful silence ensuedl. It was interruptedl by the shouts and screams, which announced that she had made her appearance among the populace outside, and a shower of stones struck against the walls and windows. Ini thme midst of the noise I could distinguish the explosion, now and then, of fire airms. There were moments when the y/ens d'a(rmes8 could scarcely preserve the prisoners from being massacred. 'The appeld continued. TJhe sec-ond names was that of a youngi~ man of t wen ty, M. de Coateral, if' I remember right, who wvas accused of having a son, an emigrant, bearing atmis against his coun try. Thec accusedl was not eveni mar ried, lie burst out laughing, lie pressed the hands of' his friends, and went out. T1he same shouts and elat ter' of stones. A mournfmtul silence round the tabile; all waiting thme sentence of death at their post, ats soldiers expect the fatal bullet. As soon as a prisoner went out, his plate was cleared away, and those who remained closed their ranks, as ini a battle, smiling sadly at their' new neighbours. Andre Chenier was still standhing by Madame do St Aignman, and I was near them. As in a shipwreck thme crew gathier instinctive ly round the .one who possesses the highest courage and ener-gy, so the prisoners collected gvrad ually r'ounmd this young man, IIe stood, his arms crossed, and his eyes raised to H eaven, as if' in apostrophemI. 'Did 1Ueaven look on, and would niot take their part ?' Mademoisello de Coig'ny, standing at the other enud of the room, saw, at eye ry successive appel, the circle of her Itrotector-s diminish, till at length she was left alhmost alone. Then shte slowly advanced, suppor ting herself upon the edge of bthe noew empty table, till she came to where we were sitting, anrd p laced hierself at a little distance, ,tp king shelter, poor forlorn chidIa it -wero, undnr thn shndoae urw. .. tier noble countenance preserved its dignity, but nature was giving way: her limbs trembled, and her knees were knocking together. The good Madame de St. Aignan held out her hand. The poor young creature burst into tears, and fell sobbing upon her bosom. The rude and pitiless voice of the commissa ry contidued the appel. , The ian I ecemed to take pleasure in prolonging iuspcnso and suffering. lie proiounc Dd the baptismal names in a slow, af. Fected, drawling manner, dropping out iyllable after syllable; then suddenly flosing with the family name. It was ike the fail of the axe. Ile swore rude ly at the prisoners as they passed him, i preface to the cries and hiuses outside. lie was heated with wine, and could hardly keep his lege. While the m.an was reading, I observed close behind, and crouching down almost under tis arm, a women's white cap, and above this white cap, with its large tri-coloured -ockade, the long thin face of a man, who was tall euough to read the list over the commissary's shoulders. It was Rose and my artillery man Blaireau Rose appeared gay and curious, like her friends of the 1Hlle, by whom she was surrounded. I felt that I detest ed her. As for Blaireau, he had his usual hair-sleepy, indifferent air; but his uniform, I saw, gave him much consid Dration among the bonnets-rougea and oana-eulottea, with their pikes, whosur rounded him. The list which the com. missary was reading was scrawled up on several different sheets of paper, and the worthy commissarv seemed to have some difficulty in deciphering them. Blaircau advanced his head officiously, as if to help him; taking off, at the same time, his hat, which seemed to be in his way. At that moment I saw, as I thought, Rose stcop suddenly down, and pick up a Folded parer from the ground; but the part of the refectory in which she stood was so dark, that I could not Feel sure of that fact. There is also another work on the same subject, by Mr. St. John, enti tled the 'Aristocrat.' The tale is Founded upon the terrors of the French Revolution, at the time when Louis XVI. and his Queen were confined in the prison of the temple. During the Republican days of Ilobespierre, St. Just, and the other celebrities of that momentous era, there lived in Paris a young and gay Frenchman, named, or rather he had assumed the name of Seneca Taitbout; for there was nothing aristocratic in its sound. Although lie contined to live in the same apartments, and kept up the same style as during the Mo:mareby, and had obtained the nickname of ''hie Aristocrat,' still, no one dared suspect the patriotism of one who had fought at the Bastille,at pres ent commanded a section of Saus-culot tes, and was moreover an intimmate friend of Robespierre. A rumour was abroadl that a Royalis t conspiracy was to break out, and forthwith a decree was issued that at a certauin hour every onle was to be withini dhoors, theiir paer of civism were to be exaimiined, and suspetedC~ aristocrats wereC to be senit t'' prison. Opposite to Seneca's house resided a beautiful younug girl, whom he knew to be a Royalis t by the crucifix hung upon01 her waulh; and immediately after- the puiblicationi of the decree lie witnessed an agonizinig scene of gtief between the girl arid an elderly had y whom lie supposed to be her mother. Ini a imomnent lie understood their posi tions-conicealed Royvalists without pa per -lhe de temiined to sa ve them, and rushed across to their abode. i s con jectures wer-e corr-ect, for- thec disguised ladies wcire the C'ountess Meltucaux and her daughter; they had flied from their splendid maunsion. and~ hid them selve-s in a humble lodging. Seneen saves them in the following courageous imanne r: - TIIE. SEA RCII FOR ROVA LISTS. An hour passed in conversation. They aill noticed the dead stillness of the Btreets. Not a soul was out, save scat tcired senties guariniug theo houses. And still the lugubriious dri-us heat. Ne'ver wats such a scene hboire in tihe capJital of a gr-eat country, Thell barri oi's of the towun had been closed at 12 o'clock, and guar-ded by the agents of the terrible Santerre. Pr-esently a movqwcnt was hicard in the street. Sondo~Aooked out. A dozen sana.eu-. ofatee were going by, guarding haif as many prisoners, f'our men andI two wo men, whom, by the talk of tie soldiers, twas clear had been corresponding with emigrants. One of the pike-men earried a bundle of lettim-s in his hand. The Aristocrat' felt the blood chilled -ound his heart, and turning back to )is now friends he began to talk. He iescribed the state of France, the tre iendous position of the Republic,~ and ound excuses not for the bloodshed, >ut for the severity in other ways, and le precautions taken. He told them low desperate and calculating, men, by ipending money, incited the ignorant :o insurrection, and caused the death of housands. le pictured the Comite do Salut Public battling againsti half Eu -ope without, and three parts of France ,vithin, and was continuing to speak to 3ager and wondering listenet, when a inock came to the door, and the clat, ering of swords was heard. The whole )arty rose to their feet annihilated with ear-Seneca for them, they for all. But to keep the visitors waiting was langcrous, and -The Aristocrat' rushed o open. H1alf-a-dozen men entered, eoaded by a sergeant. It was Simon, ie cordon n ier, a name which good men )f every party will always vow to infa ny, for he was the murderer of the poor >oy whom the history of France desig. ates at Louis XVII. 'Good day, -itoyen,' said he surlily, for there was io sympathy between the Cordelier md the Jacobin. 'I search thi- rooms >ut as a matter of form. 'Lhou art iaid to be civic.' 'Known to be almost is civic as thyself,' replied Seneca, unothering his ire for the sake of the awo trembling women. 'And these two ,vomen thou can'st, of course answer for! :ontinued Simon, c 'eing them suspi yiously-' they look ferement like aris orats.' 'Take care, citoyen Simon,' laid the officer, 'my friends are not in multed with impunity. Thou wilt ask ne next for my carte do civiaere.' And why not, citizen?' 'sneered the :obbler. 'Because thou could'st not ead it,' replied the lieutenant. The W1a-culotte roared with laughter, while the cobbler looked furious. 'Arrest them,' lie cried, foaming at the mouth. The trans-culottes laughed again. Sen. ea was their commander, and despite his aristocratic reputation, much beov ud. 'Nay, not this time, continued the Secretary of the Scoevola club; 'but do not hurt thy digestion, thou wilt find in Paris plenty of poor women and hepless children of whom thou wilt not be afraid.' 'Thou speakest of little Ca pet.' said the cobbler-'thou shalt see. This night at the Cordelier thou shalt be denounced. (itoyens, I call yO to witness lie has called Madame Veto 'a poor woman,' and little Capet a 'help. less child.' 'Dost expect every body to be as great a brute as thyself?' cried a bily sans-culotte behind. 'The ci foqen Seneca is a good Republican, and can afford to pity even our enemies. lie has given his proofs.' 'We shall see,' said Simon. turning away, )ale and furious; 'let thy aristocrates look to it. I denounce the whole fournee this evening.' And the Sergeant went out, followed by his men, leaving the three friends alone. The women would have thanked Seneca, but he hid not fromz them that the danger was but half over. TIhe vindictive character of Simon was well-known, lie would surely denounce them, anid to be de Inounlced' in those days was almost to be c'ond~emnled. The young man mov ed atbout for- some time in Considerable a gi tartion. 'I see but one remedy,' lhe exclaimned, sundenly turning to the young girl: 'we are all here in peril of our live's. R3ecomec my wife, and neone will hiave a word to say, the spouse of Seneca Taithout will be above suspi ein.,'1'The mother and child looked wonde~'rstrck. The Countess stamn mnered something about their povorty and miserr. Not a wor-d was saidl about shortness of acquaintance, for the acts of the young man had shown his whole char-acter. 'The young girl bent her head and blushed. "'Sit yec both dlowni," said Seneca, gently, while his eye rested aff'ectinately on the girl, "andl understand me. I do0 not ask you to bec my wife merely to save urs all, int because I am sure so good a child and gentle a being must make any man hap py. if ye are poor, I am rich, and arc wenot equally obliged? I offer you a comnfortabile home, and~ obtain a lovely wife." "Arnd my daughter a noble husband," exclaimed the poor woman, fervently, forgetting tire pride of hir'th and rank, arnd the undying hopes of her ca.ste, in the bright picture before her. The resat of the (lay wae passed in con versation, and before night the new friends had beocomie as well acquainted as if they had known one another for months. A t a lato hour, Seneca loft them to the char-ge of his ofticeur, warn ing them heo should not return, having to make preparations for his *cedding. The young man spent the night in cal ling on four men whom -he desired to be present at his nwo. He tol4"them the exact truth, anid as he added "that though-of an old arnd arisoaiolyhD they had livedh without abi~fi6Wef ivith abroad. on what thou had naved, and the labour of 4loit htihde.'-athey all agreed to come. AVV. th' next -morn ling, six men tied tk w Ott .werd, sea ted at then otakdtialedSeneca. Thithout. Tha bouhii 4 his wife, was neaty . otted, an doked calmly hWppy, whil As 1rjoked with wonder and es" , ite ctrioity, on thivisitorS. er0 the- WQ Ube. spierres, LebsA, t. ust, and the Mag". istrate who had united them. .-he could not understand these terrible men coming there to oblige a friend, and save them from destruction, nor' could she coinirehend- how they- could sit. there and talk so coolly of the political affirs of the-day, whil 'desolation and death was around--desolation and death which- she believed they could have stayed. T'iemarriage was of course by civil contract, and the acue lay upon the table. Every iow. and then the ox-countess would take it up and then put it down again, for the signatuires to it almost made her doubt her own sani ty. Presently a rude knock came to the door. The officz hastened to op en. A commissary of police, Simon, and some dozeii ans-culottes entered, grave and nearly angry. "A pretty batch," cried Simon, laughing, "the warrant says arrest ISeneca Taitbout and all whom we find in hisapartments." The guests were seated with their backs to the window, which was open, nd in honour of tle' day, filled with flowers. None of those who had just entered could distinguish their faces. "Goodi day, Simon, 'said Setieca, rising and advancing towards him; "what pro cures me the satisfaction.of thy visit?" "6Cioyen," replied Simon, maliciously, "I warned thee yesterday. . Our friend the Commisary here, has an order from Fonquier-Tinville to arrest thee and all who are fotind in thy hibitation. "Citoyen Conatnissary," said peneca, calmly, "this fellow eiioindes me because Itold him le Could oad." "It will teach thee. .toW oe civil," sneered the cobbler. .'Citoyec Seie ca,' pipt in the commissary, 'I na.sorry to arrest one who has always borne so good a character for 'civisin, but my orders are peremptory? 'Citym Coim missary,' said Seneca, with a laugh, 'I ain sorry to disappoint thee, but the only arrest that thou wilt make here, is that of the citoyen Simon, denounced as having falsely acused a goad citoyen to secure his private revenge.' 'I?' thundered Simon, furious at the other's coolness. 'Ay,' exclaimed St. Just, rising with. his threo colleagues of the Conite de 8alut Public, and speaking in his soft, cold, thrilling voice; 'and let it teach others not to desecrate a duty from vile motives. The country is in danger, and denunciation is necessary. The more need that knaves should not abuse the right." The aspect of the whole official party on finding them selves in presence of the most influen tial members of the executive power, was truly ludicrous. 'The sanS-cullt tes, it is true, smiled, for they were now sure of their favourite officer's ci. vism; but Simon stood as if annihilated, with opent mouthg and pallid cheek, while the comamssary felt liis legs quniver under which he and his compan ions signed, while on a white sheet they wrote the committal of Simon. This done, they waved the party away. The commissary, glad to get off so cheaply, pushed Simon out by the shoulders, to the delighmt of the eane-cullottes, who screamed with laughter as soon as the door was shut, and the marriage party remained alone. "Many than 's, citi zens," said Seneca, adrancing to hin, "count on one devoted friend to ye all, and the chose publique." "May thy marriage be happy," said Lebas, with a sigh, "and now good-bye. We niust go to the Tiuilleones, our committee meets at 11." TIhe four principal rulers of France bowed to the ladies after a few words of comfort, and then went ont to their terrible work, to drive back Europe, to create armies-to crush insurrection-to keep down civil wrar---to struggle---to triumrth-.-to fall to perish, and t< dic. THE CIIOLERA. The~ ravages of the Cholera at Siamn.ii the Eamst Indies, necording to the last Eu ropean papersaere beyond mecasure dead (ul. A bout 20,000 spersons have falle victims to it. So great Was th6 flumher oIf deaths that they ihudr itfmnptibbl( to burn them alI,.and ninniy gre hurled, and mnuhitudes were tlrmn into the river just as they hanu1dled. They werm ropplt and laid in piles and fuel spplietlinwhefr they were consumed like bepgot'it~ in three diaya not leaurttm frem 200 3900,dled ,dailyg antt 1 dasit i&k inh but has,b .ee otg ths th ave died weredw hefg est classes. y moreb w prisonnt with hrd laborf stesa &Th&I ant n-"eEk inimot VO r too jollyl he -iall Smiles the hyena .thii th6 or Iuj s h ters. 'er vorel titws nota a gfair, No one, ti ihouldtlhink of going a less than two pocket' het d wd, even then a e idapted to the 'joyfil oc ' take wives as they do )f water exceptinginde e 'little things' a're well gdt. Ed >f matritmonial barotnetsi we ach fatily, and ail*i is to the state of the teathaeki6" ire-side.accurately regiateoed ha io, doubt that on the average m the following re-duwllt d d nt: BEFoRE b'MAGU1AV Drkixo 1161tiG . AFBR MIARIAE - ,eteorologial.spea g. oa iighly interesting t9uldWs arr it cnowledge of the exact amotutt Pf'Ao revailing during .courtship Robod .an feel more truly wretched 'that, ot he happiest day of lis life. A Wed' ling is even more melat41nholytiiWP U neral. The bride w 11 'for . :ing and bothing "At >roken liecausle she jii' e~ebt SIa and i; theibeue she wd trusts Charles "dl alway ier; and, when n other e *xcs *35la ie bursts into tears becauseihe'sOiJ io will not bring the tAng with Nlamma, too, is determlinettt t fo the leait thitig, 4ei des?; d e I gong-away, and she 'is 404W thing dioeidful Is abtito oones iaeota iho'9 ra e to. ok the dinprooi r ' i' wine and pat* op gtrange tr mioziie tl tios church thewater is lsid on vice ; indeed the whole pat wretched, no one would imamine the was a 'happy pair' auf t6t: ' When Papa ives awy : child, he does it with sIiinfy, if he were hatiding hei q44k t cest polygamist sinedI. r Eighth.-instead of one who loves his *atib, teg.rd v the 'mint' sauce that.aooop h The bridegroom shivels#,eite crying's catching,-orbecaUei lie W he ought, fo decency's sa1k to deeply moved; * and thu half.4e-on bridesmaids are sure to be all ep because every body else weePs.> k the party return home, hI thoughts of the breakfas e up a little; and the brides-aids particular, feels quite resignad to'th fate. As if tbeybadgito.A by crying, or the tears; had their appetites-they didkn lieira for a while in th white soapfferueot,.t The chtnipagno gds of~ and round. *** Then thettt* gets up, and hiftc~ sl Uhrl an at eulogium upon the' irtues? f 'sweet girl,' whom he 'loves ashd flesh and blood,' thumps the tabled' a.d tells the company that 'any .on1O trIIdI would not treat her, properly wnuld be a scoundrel.' Upon tis every olin p'resent turns round -to look at had at the wretched villain-of a and then they all fall to weepmg ak But so strongly has the felm set t against the new sdn-in~la ,Ab . 4 only by a speech full of the doet pathos, that he cain persuade tle-~o pany that lie has not thaesast~ gt of murdering, or indeed even ing his wife. At lost, the 1bt bride, and bridesmaids retire te a~ 'Good-bye,' and have a good 6r~ Mh gether up stairs. Then Die l~ and the treeping in ~ ~ d seem to keep the, gadest v~ the. last. The hrdesiaid~ noses are quit i~aed h f a straightansif they had be Arid hen' 't 9 es fN pypahiito lev, in rde~ ~~t' trainigt , (*tfie h 'ns Si alIey'-eOe ble~J iwb kao vr siere trataned~f4 inte6~ )ws e. wed narpa