——
{*3
TWO DCLLARSPER ANNUM.
VOLUME TWENTY THREE
PAYABLE ‘IN ADVANCE.
NOIEIVALK, “WEDNESDAY, JUNE 24,1840.
35
N
OFFICEVVESTSIDE THE BnInoE—ovnR novrs sronn
UMBERUWNRTY TWQ
:
THE HNORWALK GA ZETTE
Is Publis/zed
EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING.
BY
JAMES REED.Jm
TERMS.-—Two dollars per acnum, payable
in all cases, qziczrtcrly in adi:am:c.
To subscribers wgbo live out of the Carrier's
district and call at. the Office for their papers,
31 50 per year, if paid in aclt:am:c—-—otherwise
$52 will be charged. Mail subscribers $52 per
aunum, in advance. No others attended to.
To companies of si.z. or more, receiving their
papers by mail, $1 50, paytzblc in (l(Il.'(Z‘n(.‘C.
Executor’s and Atltninistrator’s Notices, 3
inscrtiutls, $1-—Comtt'tissioner’s notices, $1 25-
Yearly advertiscts. one square, $10 per annum,
payable quarterly in advance. The privilege
ofyearly advertisers is limited to their own im-
mediate business-—-extra advertisements will be
charged at the usual rates. All other advertise-
merits at the rate ol'$1 per square for 3 insertions,
and 25 cents for each subsequent insertion.
All casual advertisements sent to this Ofiice,
must be accompanied by the cash. No others
will be inserted.
ii ©
OF ALL KINDS,
MEATLY EXECUTED AT THE GAZETTE OF-FlCE.
DENTAL NOTICE.
OCT. A. I-IILL, thankful forthe patronage
he has received in his profession during
12 months past, in Norwalk, hogs leave to in-
form the public, that he still ctttitinucs a few
doors west ofthc Bridge, in Burrall’s Buildings,
where he will be happy at any time to see his
friends, and answer all their calls in Dental
Surgery.
lncorruptiblc teeth ittscrted from one to a
full set. Also, teeth cleansed, scparatctl. ex-
tracted, &c., and all those diseases ofthc teeth
attended to, which, if suffered to continue, are
productive of so much mischief‘.
References-—Emcry Bissell, M. D.; J. D.
M‘Lean, M. D.: Hon. Tltomas B. Bttler;
Hon. B.-rnjrtmin Isaacs. Norwalk. 'Nt2hcrniah
Perry, M. D. Ridgefield. R. B. Botsfortl, M.
D.; Doct. D. P. Knapp, Danbury. Duct.
Howell Rotlgors, Colchestcr, Ct. \Villiatn
Witter, M. D. \Villtamantic, Ct.
November ‘.20, 1839. 1
TLPPECANOE cLocKsI
_ ARRANTED to keep time in all weath-
er, and untleir all circumstances, having
been proved and found honest and true. They
are all the go now, and will be forthe next four
years. LEVI CLARK & CO.
April 9, 1840. 22
Q} VVINTER. STRAINED Sf‘lSR.t\'I OIL
F a spuperior quality. this day receivetl
and for sale cheap by E. or. \V. E. Brssi:LL.
April. 1184-0. -‘I
l'VA'1' i'11L'}S.
Tun subscriber has re-
ceived a new supply of
plain and Lever \ll/atehes,
4 hoxsm:tll.plaiti Escape-
merits. suitable li.-I‘ lmlis-.:=,
boys. or ..ny purchaser.
do. 1 box plain ccintncn
size, do Levers with and
\Varrantetl or no sale.
C. E. Disnnow.
N. B. Patent Levers. I-lorizontal, Le-pines.
Anchor, plain E.-capements, and airy other kind
of Watches carefully repaired with my own
hands. 30
without extra jewels.
-FCETRY.
STANIZAS TO THE YOUNG.
Long have the wisest lips confess’d
That minsttel ones are far from wrong,
\Vho “ point a moral“ in a jest,
Or yield a sermon in a song.
So be it! Listen ye vtho will.
And, though my harp be roughly strung,
Yet never shall its lightest thrill
Offend the old or taint the young.
Mark me l I ne’er presume to teach
The man of wisdom, gray and sage,
’Tis to the growing I would preach
From moral text or mentor page.
First, I would bid thee cherish truth,
As leading star in virtue’s train:
Folly may pass nor tarnish youth,
But falsehood leaves a poison stain.
Keep watch. not let the burning tide
Of impulse break from all control:
The best of hearts needs pilot-gtiide
To steer it clear from error's shoal.
One wave of passion’s boiling flood
May all the sea of life disturb;
And steeds of good but fiery blood
\Vill rush on death Wl|l)0Ul. a curb.
Think on the course ye fain would run,
And moderate the wild desire;
'I‘here‘s many a one would drive the sun,
Only to set the world on fire.
Slight not the one ofhonest worth,
Because no star adorns his breast;
; Thelark soars highest from the earth,
Yet ever leaves the lowest nest.
Heed but the bearing ofa tree,
And ifit yield a wholespme fruit,
A shallow, envious fool is o
W'ho spurns it for its forest root.
Let fair humanity be thine,
To fellow man and meanest brute;
’Tis nobly taught; the code’s diviue—-
Mercy is God’s chief attribute.
The coward wretcl: whose hand and heart
Can bear to torture -aught below,
Is ever first tn quail and start
From slightest pain or equal foe.
Be not too ready to condemn
The wrong thy brothers may have done;
Ere ye too harshly censure them
For human faults, ask—“ Have I none?”
Live that thy young and glowing breast
Can think ofdeath without a sigh;
And be assured that life is best
Which finds as least afraid to die!
.lors;
ivitsCELLANY.°
From I/ic Ladies’ C'o.-upmiitm _/or June.
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A.‘ VIC
TIM.
“ Bless'd are those, .
\Vliose blood and judgetnent are so well co-
mingled,
That they are not a pipe for fortur.e’s finger
To sound what stop slto pleases.”—-
SI-IAKSPEARE.
Tm: following autobiograpliic skctcli,
written by the indtvitltial wltoui we shalldcs.
ignate as f\l:tttl'lCe Cainpbt-ll, came into the
possession of one connect:-d by blood to the
un,Fm~mn;ttc, and was person:tlly knowing to
the principal facts thercin l‘(-'l£1l.t‘.(.l. The or-
iginal mautisr.-ript was written upon t.lt~taclit-cl
pieces of ptipcl‘, and it fell to the relative, to
whom we have referred, to weave them into
a more continuous whole, .-ind to recount the
catastrophe of his tvrctclied life. * *
I commenced life with prospects ofa flat-
tering character, which promised, by good
conduct, in a few years, to gain for me both
respectability and wealth. I was the only
son of parents, whose circumstan_ces enabled
thetn to give me an education fitted for a
mercantile career, which I was to follow.——
Their affcctions and hopes were wholly con-
centratcd upon me, and rriy \Vt3lf«‘tl'€ was their
only solicitudc. Upon attaining my eigh-
teenth birtliday, I was taken frotn the acade-
my at which I find been placed, and entered,
as clerk, a rcsocctablc mercantile house By
untiring attention to the lfltt-‘l‘('SlS of my em-
ploye1‘s,bcft‘it‘e. many months I possessed their
ftillcstcottfi-lcnce, which, continuing to de-
serve, at the age of m:tnl]()O(l, I was received
upon tcrms—most favorable term, as a part-
ner in the thriving firtn.
Five years elapsed from the period of
which 1'liavc just spokt‘n—yc-ars fraught
with events, mos‘. ncarly afli-cling my fortune
and my happint-ss. I lltltfl been my own
master about a ye;tr, wlit-n my pztrcnts died
within a few weeks ofcnch other. Thanks
to God, that while they lived, they had no
occasion to blush for the conduct of their
son! Their deaths were lia"dly t.irtexpcctt:~d.
as, in the course of nature, Ii‘.t'll' glass was
was nearly run, yet their loss was gretft to
me-—thcy were my p:trcnts-—-my dearest,
oldest friends-—my tnost ztflcctiouate counsel-
an:l:"thc remetttbrancc of their cares,
their kindness, their love, will cling to me
for ever.
The last year had also left me as the only
surviving partner of our hous»-'. My senior
partners had both bC(‘l'l hurried into ctctnity
at the some time, by the shipwreck of their
vessel, on their t'etui‘n from :1 southern voy-
age of pleasure After S('l1llti£_3' the affairs of
the partm~rship, I found myself in possession
of a suflicicnt sutn to continue the business
upon a contra.ctt.-d scale, for my own benefit.
My lack of capital was, in a great measurt-,
overcome by the name I had acquired for
ability, integrity, and punctuality. My bu-
siness IllCl'(":lSt-.‘il rapitlly, and in a short time
I received tho g‘t'ti]lL‘l' portion that we had
formerly transacted, which was highly pt'o-
fitable.
About this time my dear friends and ac-
qtiaintanccs sttggcstcd to me tltat, howcvt-i‘
fortune might smile upon me in accumu'a-
ting wealth, tny happiness would be in jeo-
pardy, unless I shared thy prosperity with it
fair partner. This counsel was i'citerrttcd by
so many, and so frequently, that at l I bir-
gan to give up my long cherished ideas ofa
single life. One of these kind friends rc-
cotnmended to me. a lady, whom she averted
was born to become my wife; another was
suggested on account of the clearness of her
complexion; another for the beauty of her
form; another for her sweet and gcntle dis-
position; another for her graceful and lady-
like crtrriage—in short, each had some qual-
ity diflering from the others, and some all
the virtues and accomplishments desired in a
wife, if made according to the OI'(l(’T of the
most particular and considerate old bachelor.
[am not of the believers who hold the
proposition that marriages are made in Hea-
ven-—else we should find far less of those
hetrogenious qualities in apposition, which
mar the happiness of the tnarricd state, and,
bring the parties so often into open hostility;
and disgrace. So numerous are the malign
influences, and so continually are they in ac-
tion, thnt its bcatity, alas! is too often do-
fuccd; they arc, as the poet elegantly ex-
prcsst.-d it,
.4
J2»
“ Too infirm,
Or too incatitious, too preserve thy sweets.
Uuniixed with drops of bitter, which neglect
Or temper sheds into thy crystal cup.”
How true. this was in respect to myself, I
shall not at this time speak. but will say
without fear of an impeachment of my vera-
city, that by marriage I entered upon at flt'l(l
ofduties new and untrod~lcn, and in which I
proved unskilful, as a pilot sailing upon a
coast strange to him, and full of qtiicksands.
That the result was not owing to my own
want ofjudgtnent in the selection I made, I
dare not assert.
I married a lady, sufficiently conscious, of
the great and itnportant advantages ollfatfiy
distinction—of her own great contlescenst it
in connecting herself with a man whose an-
cestors were not ‘knotvn to fame,’ and who
was ever reminding me of my superior for-
tune, although her briclal dowry was such,
that it might have been waited upon the suin-
mer’s gale.
Things went on smoothly for a time. My
wife, though vain, was not wholly without
traits of character to be admired. Each day
brought its accotnpanying pleastires and en-
joyments. But this calm and sunshine were
not to last for ever. Several years passed.
and Providence had not blessed us with is
site. Many were the regrets my heart gave
forth because of this pt‘ivation—-—but now I
look upon it as a blessing. My business had
9.5‘
l
prospere' far beyond my utmost cxpr-ctations.
W'ealth rolled into my coffers, as ifby some
mugic power, and every succct-ding year
added to my name the reputation for virtues,
which are the most valued by the merchant.
My ships were spreading their canvass upon
every st-a.
But with all this outward prosperity. there
existed a void within my breast, that my
fast-acctitnulating_ wealth could not fill, and
which eventually effected my undoing. l
have said my wife was vain——if this had
been her only f.tult, many of my future citi-
barrassn'icnts would not ltttve trttnepirt-d, and
perhaps dissonance might have been avoidt--d.
Her parents were of the class called fa.~',’L-
i'.m.=.(i/219. This designation, however, they
had assurnt--d IllCl"flSt‘.'lVt’$, and the assumption
hail bet-n siltmtly accorded to tliern by others,
with whom they were in the practice of as-
sticiating. They lived up to the last cent of
their income, when, at the age of seventeen,
they wedded their daughter to me. Vtfith
habits contracted in such a sphere, Catharine
found it infinitely difficult to succumb to the
common-sense-view of life and the. \\'0l'iLl,
which actuated her husband. I\"hat I con-
Si(lt‘ft(l rtspcctable and pt'aisewot‘tliy, she
would denounce as tinfi;shion:.tble——-and that
word included in her itl-cas,all that was worth
living for. lidolizcd her, for, indeed, she
was a splendid woman, and I could not, for
my life, but submit often to her caprices and
fancies, when I was perfcctly convinced of
their improprit-ty. Had I acted in this ac-
cording to my better judgment, happy would
it have been for us both!
Early customs, with Mrs. Campbell, were
not to be l)l‘Ol{(l'l, especially when it was in
her power to indulge in all that her extsited
fancy pictured to her, of old associations and t
pleasures. I purchased a large and elegant
house in a fi.lStlIOflilblC neigliborliood, antl
furnished it in a costly and superb manner.
A rich and gorgeous esttzblislttuent was in
attendance, waiting hcr commands. My
house was devoted to elcgaticc and pleasure.
It was a temple ofsp.lt:1doi', and ;its appoint-
ments were in l{CF'plt‘.L My wife. was the
ptvsiding genius, and never was she in want
of votarit-s at her shrine. There the softest
strains of music fell upon the delighted ear.
whilst the eye was cli-armed by the c/ref cl’
(cit-ores of the masters ofthe pencil and chis-
cl. Besides my city residence, I possessed
:1 country seat u; on the lanlts of the noble
Iludson, at 11COl]VGl'll*.‘l.ll.CllSl{'lllCP, which was
the ]‘(‘S0t‘I of our town acquaintances, wltere
the dissipatt-d $Ct’fl(S of the winter wet'e’al-
most unintv. rruptcd during the summer.
I foolishly t,'flCOl.'lI'ilg'€‘d this manner of life,
knotving it aflotuled the highest gratification
to my wife, but could Il]:1Vt‘: lczl one less pre-
tending, and more sccltidexl, without paining
her, it would have agreed better with my
taste and disposition.
It was about midsummer at my villa,
where I had remained for the last fortnight,
absenting myself from the counting-room,
that the first indication ol'diflict.iltics came to
my knowledge. I was the last who rctircdl
to bed th:tt, night. The air, during the eve-I
tting, had been close and sultry, unusually,
so, for the location of my house high, upon
the banks of the river, and I cxpcctecl we
shozld flftVC a heavythuntler-shotver. Iliad
not been long in bed, when the rolling ofthe
thunder began, and the vivid and quicltly-rc-
pczttt-d flashrs of lightning was followed by
the fall ofthc rain in torrents. I could not
sleep. l turned from side to side in my bed—-
was l'€’Sl.lt’SS and feverish. My mind was op-
pressed, as if coming evil bad cast its sh:td-
otv ttpon it. An hour passed, and the rain
was still pouring, whilst the a‘i‘tillet‘y of the
clouds still tearfully continued its uproar.—
In an intermission of the noise of the ele-
tnents, I heard -.1 knoc.king at the fr’ont door
of the house. My blootl trickled through
my veins, and a foreboding ofevil, for an in
stunt, incapnciated me for-.1 single moment.
After waiting a few moments, I was enabled
to reach the window, and make inquir_v.—
It was my confidential c.lt‘-rlr from the city.
Vfith tremor and agitation, I tlirew my,
clothes about tne, dcscendt-d to the door, and
admitted him. VVe each drank off -.1 glass
of wine, be for the purpose of g‘Ufll'(lll'lg',
against the effects of his wetting, and myself,
to still the tumult of my mind, I then in-
qulred the occasion of his visit, at that un-
seasonble hour.
He immediately entered upon a circum-
stantial dctail of a series of lll2iU03'tlVl'(‘S ofal
house in the \Vt-st Intlit-s, with whom I built
been in connccion for several yca's, of hxzudsg
and villanics ofa tnistnstottntlittg ch-.tt'actet‘,l
which, if trite to the whole extc-tit, would in-ti
volve all my wealth, even by httsbnnditig it,l
to the bust of my ability. As he proceedt-dj.
with his tale, I filled and drattk glass alter!
glass, until the decanter was emptied to the;
d regs. 'I‘hough always tetnperatr-, this quan-'
tity appeared to have no influence upon me;
my system was stcclt-d against ordinary con-
scqticnces by this ovt-rwltelming tnisfortunc.
I returned the next day to the city, nor
(lid I visit my country-scat again for :1 month
—which was, to rue, a month of agony. I»
gnvc the closest attention t.o tnv aflitirs, stri-
ving to avoid for which, more ihan any oth-
er thing I felt rt secret borror——bcconii-ig a
bankrupt. My worst foreboilings, at the
end ofthis time_ were confirmed, though I
escaped that severest affliction.
The ntost casual observer could perceive
that I was a greatly altered man. From it
lively disposition, in one short rrionth, I had
become grave almost to melancholy. Some
attributed this change, immediately, to the
loss of my property. Although this was
true, in a_ certain sense, it was not from a
uiserly spirit, but from the inability of meet-
ing my engagements punctuall '; it was
from th_e__loss of my bright name-—my honor.
I‘he crisis called for action, decided and im-
mediate action. Nor was I of that kind of
men, when the occasion calls for strenuous
.21‘ '
ex‘€‘t'tioti, who flittcr away precious momeuts,|
which, if properly employcd, often lead to
the. overthrow ofidifficultics, which, before
scemed- unsurmount:-tble. I was resolved to
give up every thing-to my creditors I felt
that there were some short-sighted people
who might blame tne for doing so, but I
had determined to act, honorably, though a
painftil trial would be the consequence.
I now sought my wife, fot'.the first time
since my. cl parture, after my apprisetnent
of e.v_i_'l=itidings. I had kept lit‘1‘ in ignor-
ance‘ of ’.:“_ xtent ofottr misfortunes, hoping
that tlte‘t’_'\v"oi'st would prove lt-ss melancholy
than the anticip:-ttiou. My heart bled as I
entered her apartment, and seated myself
by her side, for I was about to deprive her
of luxuries, and even necessitir-s, to which
sl:c,_had been long accustomed; bitt honor
itnpelletl the effort, and I hesitated not.
“ My dear Catliaiine,” said I, taking her
lta:'ttl in mine, " what I am about to say may
ncthe wholly tin.-tr.-ticipated by you, but I
fear that your imagination has not painted,
in suflicicntly deep colors, the dreadful real-
ity. \Vc shall be nccessiated to make great
and spevdy alterations in our style of living.
We shall have greatly to retrench our ex-
pcn.-zes.”
“,l‘.*ly dear Mr. Campbell,” she replied,
“ you know I could very easily, nay, with
all my heart, give. up otir country-seat. For
some time I liave thought it not so plcasznt
asf t‘merly—-since those pretending mecha-
t'tlt.‘.S have built on each side of us——yes, Mau-
rice, we will part with it, I shall not regret
it in the least.” _
“ And. Catharine, our establishment, our
servants, our——”
“Certainly, Maurice, we can patt with
one pair of horses, and the black coach, and
two or three servants, and the gardener-—wc
can live very comfortably in town. Vile‘
shall not then comp-te with the ITS. but
thcri there are the Rodncy’s, and the lVhite’s
who krep but one coach, and one pair.of
liorscs, and only three servants besides the
coucltman and tootrnnn."
While Mrs. Campbell was thus exhibiting
l1t‘l' generosity and self-denial in our misfor-
tunes, I could not bid hcr pause to undeccive
and brtak down her dream at once. I sat
speechless, steadily observing her counte-
nztucc, which bL‘Il‘zl_V€Cl neither anxiety nor
agitation. As she finished, I placed my
lrand upon my brow, and sat in this position
for several minutes, considering the manner
in tvhifi l sltould inform her oftheworst of
the calamity. Before I had determined upon
what plan to pursue, I was aroused by her
saying:
_, “Itru;-:t, Mr. Campbell, your difficulties
will not last long, and that we may soon rc-
ttirn to our usual way of living.” ,
" You wofttlly misunderstand. Not long?
Out‘ misfortunes, Catharine, are vct‘y——vcry '
grer.t——in truth we are ruined.”
“ \Vh-at do you say, Mr. Campbell ? Ru-
ined! what can you iinean .7 Ido not un-
derst:-tn.'l.”
“ No, you do not understand-—but now I
tell you, Catltarinrt-—-we are beggars! we
have not a single dollar’ we can call our own
—all is Q-one-—I am a bankrupt l” ,
Mrs. Cattnpbc l, on hearing this dreadful
announcement, went into hysterics. She fell
back senseless, and lay in that condition a
few minutes. when she suddenly sprung tip-
on her feet, laughing and screaming ultct'-
nately. I-ler finger was pointed at me in
derision, as she cricd—
“ Nota dollar! nota dollar! a bankruptl
ha! ha! litt!” Her eyes turned, and she
again fell to the floor, in convulsions so ter-
rible, that with all my strength I could
scarcely prevent her doing injury to ltcrst-lf
The convulsions continued an hour, when
t.hr-yccased, nature having exhausted itself.
She was then carried to her apartment and
placed in bed. I could never forgive myself
for my incautiotis communication to her.
The blow was too sudden an-;l powerful for
her irritable temperament to withstand, _and
disastrous consequences followed. But it
ended not ltt‘!l'€——my dear wife was to be suc-
riftcctl by my misfortunes, and my stupidity.
I-Ier delirtttn still continued with short inter-
mission, although the convulsions had ceased.
During the night, as she seemed to he get-
ting worse, I left her fora moment to call
the servant, and in my absence, she leaped
from the. bed and rushed tothe window. She
had sticcct-detl in opening it, and stood upon
the sill, tvhc.t'e I C-spied her on my return to
the rootn. A single glance was sttfiicicntto
tell me her design, and in art instant Igained
the window. Icaught a slight hold of her
dress, but it was too late to save her--she
('SC:lpt~‘-(l my grasp, and with a single bound,
fl-ll -.1 height of thirty feet. I-lorrot'-stricken
Idescended to the spot,’ and found her life-
lcss-—a mattgled corse she lay upon the cold
grountl.
A long. long night, followed that horrible
event. I-low dark, how terrible! My fa-
culties were bcnumbcd. The world was va-
cant to me. I had no interest in the thou-
sand movements which excited its myl‘lt1(lS
to action and to strife. My mind would aid-
mit of but one idea, and that was the form of
my disfigured wife as she. lay de.td beneath
the window. I was prostratcd by this over-
excitement, and a tedious illness followed.
\-Vhen restored I returned to business. I
paid my debts to the utmost farthing, and was
left pennilcss. I felt not my poverty. In my
case honesty was its own reward. It was.
however, not the only reward Igeceivcd in
acting correctly, for my creditors. finding
their demands liquidated’ with scrupulous
exactness, joined in a loan, which enabled
me to commence business anetv. I again
prospered. but my happiness had been “nip-
pcd in the bud,” and wealth could not pur-
chase its restitution. '
A new passion seized upon me. I had
suffered from the loss of wealth, which '1
never prized for its own sake. Now, the
amassing of riches became an excitement, a
delirnm of pleasure. The pursuit caused
me to forget my former sufferings, and I
pressed on with greater and greater zeal for
its attainment. Though my successul busi-
ness was gradually bringing in its thousands
and tens of thousands, it did not suffice to sat-
isfy my inordinate desire._of gain——-
“It grew by what it fed on."
Schemes of speculutioit now hurried me for-
ward in the chase. Ban k, and the stocks of
other incorporated companies absorbed my
attetition. I was upon the mart of business
early and late, itt sunshine and rain, and
challenged all ways and all means, that
wottl-Cl afford a profit.
These pursuits continued for three or four
years. Iw-as c0nsir.lct‘eCl, by the knowing
ones, as one of the wealthiest ofthe wealthy.
Still I was not satisfied. But a snare was
fast forrriing which, in a little while, envel-
uped me so securely, that it promised soon
to hurl me from my prosperity, and leave
me helpless.
One of those serious revulsions, which ev-
ery now and then occur in the mercantile
world, hrid begun, and in its course was pros-
trating houses consitlerctl the mos‘. secure,
with atarming rapidity. The growing dif-
ficulties \\':1s seVct‘cly felt by me, as a great
portion of my funds were invested in stocks,
which fell to most ruinous quotations. Con-
fidence appeared to have entirely abandoned
the comurunity. I made great sacrifices to
obtain means to make my daily payments ll
borrowed at usurious iutercst,and resorted to
means of every kind to relieve my present
necessities, but all in vain. Iwas on the
verge of bankrtiptcy.
The panic had spread through the whole
country. I could not collect debts due me,
and all other resources were cut off. The
probability was now reduced to certainty,
that my paper must be d_ishonot‘cd. To an
honorable tnintl, such an altcrativc produces
indescribable sensations of pain, and this
painful feeling is gt‘:-ally extiltctl, when he
considcrs that his difliculties are induced by
no more praiseworthy m(iIl'.‘(.‘S than an im-
moderatc thirst for acquit'ing sudtlcn riches.
Iliad launchecl into schemes which I did not
fully untlerstand, and lust thousands. I“I:t(l I
not swerved from my legitimate business op-
erations, I could have tveatltcrcd the storm,
and still been wealthy. I should have. re-
membered that the gratification "of a passion
becomes criminttl, when that gratification
clashes with prudence.
Myinind f)l‘t3:~t‘.l'lf.£'(I to me but one Coance,
which-ipromistid an escape from my dif-llcul-
ties——it was a littzardotts and wild scheme,
involving virtue, honor, and even life. My
parents. though eminently moral themselves,
had failed to implautthc principles of Chris-
tianity in my heart, \vl1it'.t are the only 1'L'{tl
safcgttat't.ls against temptation in the hour of
the ordeal, ittltl most lamentable wr.s the
omission. I was now tempted and fell—antl
in that full, funic, honor. self-respect, were all
buried in one SlmUll:1ll(‘0lJS ruin.
My w:1rhouse was fillcd with mcrcandisc
for which there was no sale; for those who
still possessed money had it, as with a gripe
iron. This tnerchandise was insured in va-
rious cotnpauies at its full value. In an evil
hour, I determined to burn my store and
contents, and thus to obtain money. The
plan was sttggestcd to my mind, and resolv-
ed upon in an instant. It would free me
from my embitrmssmcnts, and I should
still be enabled to live with an unspottcd
name among tncn. In my own tlioughts I
Sttitl—--
“ It is Iknotv, an act ofthe highest criminal-
ity! But no matter, it Shall be done~none
will suspect me. Iam called the honorable,
thc just——oh, ftc! ’tis nauseous. ’tis fullsome-
uess-—none will suspect that I C0'!ltl do a
deed so damnablel Icannot, I will not !—
but hold, must I again bite the dust in pov-
erty .7 tnust my name be booted at by the muti-
tttde? must I again toil for substance, and
reap the empty air?—it must, it shall be
done, though it bring tne to the halter!”
It was a cold night in the month of Janua-
ry, that Ihad deitv-rminctl-upon to put my
nefarious project into execution. It was it
beautiful night, indeed, too beautiful to be
desccrated by a deed, so foul. An inch of
snow lay upon the ground. There was no
moon_sl‘tining, but the clear sky was lus-
trous with stars whose light being reflcctcd
by the. snow, develovcd objects at a consider-
able distunce with some distinctness. About
mirl night I escaped stealthily from my store,
havlng lighted the brand, and crossed to the
opposite side of the street, stvlterc I S."Cl't’I(’(l
myself from observation within an unfinish-
ed building. After a short interval I saw
a SmOOIlit‘.I‘t.’t'l light through the small win-
dow over the door of my store. It gradual-
ly gretv more distinct, and in :1 few minutes
Icotild hear the cracking of the flames.—-
Directly aftcr, an alarm of fire was cried, by
a passing watchman. The bells peztlcd,
and a crowd gathered. The ratling engines
came btit all was to no purpose. It was a
grand and fearful sight! the cracking of the
fire—the noise of the heavy timbers and.
walls falling—thc large columns of flame
wreathing high in thc heavens-—the work-
ing of the engines, and the buzz and uproar
of the immense mass of human beings,’ made,
it awful to behold!
At this timeI had left my hiding-place,
and stood motionless, and apparently un-
moved, gazing upon the demon-like work I
had perpetrated——-my etrms were doubled
across my chest: on foot was in advance of
the other; Iscarcely breathed through my
dilated nostrils, for the air was too thin;
my lips were closely compressed. Though
I presented but little outward show of feeling,
my mind was excited,'nearly to t'naclness-
the agitation there, was like the fiery fur-
nace Ihad kindled. Ihad been used’, of late,
of agony in comparison. My conscience
was now fully aroused to mv horrible crime
—my deep villany, my wreck of honor, at:
the shrine of mammon, and the sense of my
utterabasement, overpowered my guilty son}!
—I remember then a choking in my throat,
a quiver of my frame, and a trickling of
blood from my nostrils, and no more! I had
fallen upon the ground in unconsciousness.
- =3 at n. =l< at are
I was recognized upon the night of the
fire, and carried to my home. My sickness
was loitg,,and in my delirum 1 had exposed
my guilt to my attendants. In my ravings,
Iliad repeatedly attempted my life, which
was prevented. My reason returned with
my lltfflllll, but the deed which harrows up
my soul is ever present to me. All tran-
*,uilit_v of mind is for ever fled from my bos-
otn. In each one I meet, even my most tried
and valued friends, I see an open or secret
enemy, who has exposed me to the world.
and is about to bring me to punishment, as
if the hell within my bosom were notcuoughl
an air >l< * at: n =1:
“Am I a man, to bear this load of wretch-
edness !-—to feel the poisonous venom creep-
ing through every lintb, and vein, and mus-
cle, destroying this body by inches, when, in
a moment. a little moment, Ican end all;all
——tear myself from myself, and be at peace---
peace! oh, no !——thou art never to be mine
more! never more can I know thee—--we are
ht-~nccforth str.~ingers for ever I”
Ihave lifted myself to a sitting position
upon thesoftt wlierc I have been lying. My
face is pale and haggard; my eyes are sunk-
en itt their sockets, and shoot forth an un-
natural fire; and my lips are purple.
" It is to die but once-—death must come
to all. a little sooner or a little later-—what
signifies this brief span! How many days,
and months, and _ve-.trs, do men spend frivo-
louslyl ay, tniscltivvously-——-better had thev
not lived at all. For mysclf—f.~tt‘ better had
I not been born! This life is but a burden
—a heavy, heavy load to bear! Iam tired.
of it, and thus, thus I end it l”
‘he wretched man had discharged a pie-
tol through his head, and was found dead
upon the floor.
Thus on ‘ed a painful tragedy—-a tragedy
:,tt:liit~vetl by '.h;tt unholy lt1stf0t‘sudden rich-
cs, which has, within a few years past, so
9lIg‘l'0SSt’tl too many of all clns-es in our
country, and upon which, at this tuotncnt,
lirtngs El cloud, th-it shoultl be to the prcscn‘
and future ;z(’n4:3l‘;"t'.lt)n, like the fiery clotid 0’
old, upon the desctts of the cast, a warning‘
and a sign for ever! I
A lady in Btlflltlt) reccntlv threw a fellow
a red cc/it who had been seiit-trading her for
an liour—~L‘;cc’m.'nge paper.
This remintls us ofan occt.-r.'ence in this city
some nights ago. A young woman residing
in a little court. in Southtvarl.', was serenaded
by a party of male admirers, whose taste for
music was very great, but whose knowledge
ofthc principles of hztrmony was anything
but supet'tit'.ous. Tlu,-re were six of them,
each of whom was provided withgan instru-
meat, and was determined, if possible-, to
make. it h arl above that of his companion.
As neither of them was acknowledged as
leadct‘, e.-teh performer selccl.ed his own time
and his own lccy; and hence Yanlrce Doo
dle, I-lztil Columbia, Jim Crow, the ll/lat‘seil~
les I-lytnn, Still so Gently. and Go to th-.'-.
D—-l and Shake Yourself, were all in pro-
gr:-ss ofexccution at the same momcnt,prodtt-
cing (1 discord that would have aroused the
Seven Sltepers, and dissected the walls of
Troy :1 little quicker than Orpheus could
have plnyetl them up again. Of course,
every window was opened, (every heart
tvztsrft) and when the (‘_'.‘oncert was finished,
one ofthe young gentletnen stepped forward
in anticipation ofa speech from the lady ser-
enu.rlerl. I-lo was not mistaken.
SOt’t‘)e.’l.lllng descending by a string. His bosom
heaved with rapture. He cast a look of su-
periority upon those behind him, and mur-
mered forth his thanks in impassioned lan-
guage. The object approaclted. It cannot
bo——nuy it is—a love token. K scented
billet (loud: perhaps, 01' some rosy boquct for
his acceptancr-. I-Ie snatched at it —caught
it—-pressed it to his burning lips——-when be-
hold! it was a pic/.'/e .'
Unymral/elcrl P'rccnciz_7/.—‘Isn’t he a fine
child ?’ said a young mother to a visitor, as
she proudly exhibited her first born. ‘ The
handsoniest boy I ever saw,’ was of course.
the instant reply of the old bachelor to whom.
the appeal was made. ‘Yes; bless his little
heart!’ exclaintetl the better halfautheroftbe
little bantling; ‘and so veryforwmvl of his
age, dont you think?’ ‘ Very forwarcl,’ said
the echo,‘ And as the young matron removed
the cap from her baby’s head, the inexpe-
rienced bachelor continued, in evident amaze-
mcnt, ‘Bless me !—he is forward! I never
before saw a person balrlfieaderl so soon !’
During one of the most thrilling portions
of Tom Corwin’s late speech at Clinton,
Ohio. a spontaneous shoot of “ I-Iarrison!
I-Iarrison for our next President !” burstlike
thunder from the crowd. “ I am with you
there,” exclaimed the orator. “And Tom
Corwin for our next Governor l” responded
the multitude in a voice like the roar of ma-
ny waters, "No objection to that either,"
satdTom
The N. Orleans Picaytme says, “A Cat’:-
inet Maker is wanted at \Vasbington. Ii: is
designed to change the old Kitchen Cabinet
into a Log-Cabin-ct.
Figumtice.-—IVilliani Need is the Loco
Foco candidate for State Treasurer of Missis-
sippi. .
.
The Revenue for the port of Baltimore,
for the quarter ending 31st March, is upwards
of one hundred thousand dollars less than
the precceding quarter, ending the last
to excitement,_but the present moment was one
December.
He saw _
Norwalk Chronicler