Norwalk Chronicler

Norwalk Gazette, Wednesday, December 20, 1848 · page 1

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— " A large ass'ortinent of plain, fancy, silk, and

 

 

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bublished ‘Eve:-y \\'e.dnesttay Morning, by BYINGTON at Two [Dollars

 

 

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.——§.

 N UMBER 524-NEW ‘SERIES. NORWALK, CT. WEDNESDAY. _DE‘CEMl3ER 20, 1843. I v;01;;U1tt'E ” 3l—-NIiT1‘vll3l-‘.ll 5'15 ’
_%_.___,_,__________,____ ,,,____,__ .__ 4 ,___l____ I ., ,', . V I :1 _,_._._,..,_ _._._'. . ...... -_._._:3'_'.%._. L. ..___ __.-.._.....*+.':_.._—__.__ , ____ ‘—n-___:_' ,1-_: I I. - __g_ j ‘M -
Terms of the Gazette. ‘,J0,,u,D who was at. work in a field near by fol‘ llle “ Betrothed !” cried George, l:ltlglllfl__Q',| From. die Nets 1'7»): Ewngtliflto l)uring__r*~this imei-.val, be added much to

Tl cause oftbis. I have no betrothed, and above all E; his_ fame, by the publication of several.

Village subscribers by carr'ier--peryear $9 00

fail do. in advanc do. do. ‘3 00
ffice subscribers, or those living out of
‘tho Cari-ior's district, and who call for

their papers at the office, 1 60
Coinpaniosoffive or more receivi_ng their
papers by mall, if paid in advance 1 50

 

- Terms of Advertising.
10 lines orless, l iii.-:ertioii,...-.. ...... . 50
3 (A

It It _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ ___ 
]5 H 1 “ . , . . . . . . . . (52
u u 3 u _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _. 
20“ I “ ............. 75
u H U _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __] 

For continuance, per week.Q0 per cent. on the
Price ol‘3 insertions. For continuance one qtiarter,
or over. 15 per cent.

Yearly advertisers allowed 22liiies, with the priv-
ilege ol'l7 cbaiiges, $312. One square (‘.20 liiies-
,p:tper not included) per year, with the privilege of
chaiigiiig quarterly, 

NU advertiseuienls will beiiiserted gratis. Obit
nary noticos exccetlingfi lines in length unless ofgeii
e€i':llilll(‘.l‘e.~‘t, will he charged as atlvei'ti.sciiieiits.

'l‘r:in.-iont atlvt-.i'tiseiiii-tits. to insure iii.-'ertion
must be accoinpanied with the Cllhll.

.

Hartford Mutual lllSllI'{Ill(:(} (20.
JAMES REED. Anr:.\"r.
Oflicezmerllic l-Vest cm] of Pewirioji,/c'r Jli’c7~7"[Ii’
S(orc——2i.l dour East of flu: Brirlgc.
Orders lrfl at the Gczzcrre 0,/Iicc, in tlie absence
qft/ic suosci‘z°bcr, will 'rcccit:e attciitioii.

Jig

.-

J.i1‘ll.SIlIl'l‘Il’S
Marble Illanufactory,
Near the Biidgc, Norwal/c. Conn.

' ' EPULCH RAL Monuments and Grove
K Stones of every variety of patterns, and of
the most sltilful workmansliip. The best as-
sortinent of American and Foreign Marble,
kept constantly on hand.

Persons wishing to procure Monuments or
any kind of iVliirble W'ork,aro invited to call and
give a personal inspection of his 1I1lll.8l’l2ll’ and
workinauship, as this will be more sat.isfactory
than to purchase of Agents without an opportu-
nity of" testing the quality of the article con-
tracted for.

K?’ The Lettering and Ornamental work is
executed by an experienced workman and can
warrant it to give entire satisfaction.

Norwalk, Aug. 21. 1848.

New Fall Goods.

C. LOCKWOOD (Y: SON, TAILORRS.
AT TII}-2 OLD s1'.\i.~tn.
Bett’s Btliltltng, i”i‘Iain-Street,
THE subsbribers liiiviiig lately replenished
tlieir stock of Goods, would invite the
attentionoftlieir friends and the publicgenerally
to their stock of Fall and \Vintei' Goods. com-
prising all the varieties now in use for gentle-
men's wear, assuring them that all garments
made by them shall be done in a superior and
satisfactory manner.
Particular attention paid to cutting for others
to make up.
Norwalk, Sept. 12, 18-18.

Norwalk Tailoring Establisliinetit I
E. CURTIS, IVII-IRCIIANT TAELGR
N . 8, Jllain Street, Olms£cad’s Builtl-ing.

AVING lately ttLlt3'."I to his former stock ’
_ of 20043 by purcliases in New York.
would invite the attention of his friends. and the
public generally to an examination of the as-
isortinent which he has now on hand, believing
it unequalled for variety, quality and cheap-
uess.
Broatlelollzs

Of French, English and American manufac-
ture, consisting of a variety of colors, of which
he has taken great pains in collecting, and will
sell them at prices that defy competition.

(3 assi in crcs,

French and English Doeskins, plain and fan-

cy, a great variety of neat and tastzy styles.

Vcstihgs,

stlltin, ‘of a ‘great variety of styles : also a large
assortment of ‘cashmere vestings of the latest
styles.
'l‘rimmittgs;
A large assortment, consisting in part 0

From the Lad}/‘s Dollar Newspaper.
A N IJXHO 311'.-l'E‘IOI\’.

Seek not pleasure f0l',l‘.leI,‘. guise

ls false. though faii-unto thine eyes,
Pleiisure is a feeble gcal.

For the high imnwoitul soul:
Pleasure is a shining snare,

Set below empyretiii iiir;

Making energies divine

In beguiling bondage pine.

Seek not pleasures! shun her sway,
Listen to no siren lay;

Firm, unresisting be thy feet.
Though they press it stony street.
‘Till their sandals be unbound

And they tread on “holy ground 1"
And while virtue is thy guide,
Thou to happiness ait allied.

Seek not gilded pomp and power,
Empty peagants ofan hour,

In this fleeting life ofthine

Let no igiiis-/'u/iius shine:

Seek foi'g[o'r_y not for fame,

Ask it soul and not it iiaine,

Oh! give to thy ‘* uppointed time,"
A "purpose sacred and sublime!

Prison not 'neath haughty domes.
And in the leaves of musty tomes.
The aims of k nowlcdge, set them free.

_ And let them blinded millions see!
Oh. sot ihein free. and their einprise
Shall fit these millions for the skies!
Thus knowledge with her pinions S])l'e‘-id,
I-lath all to hope and nought to dread.

iiliszcllatip.

From (lie Radiator.

A HISTORICAL INCIDENT.

FROM THE GERMAN OE ALOYS EICHREI BER.

The family of Coriiaro belonged to the
Ol(l(St andinost distinguished of the Re.-
public of Venice. In the latter half of the
fifteenth century, Marco Cornaro was
clothed with the dignity of Doge. He
was ti shrewd, enterprising man, of deci-
ded, unyielding disposition. His two
children, George and Catharina. possessed
the ambitious nature of their father, but
enjoyed at the same time, in a liigli de-
gree, fine personal advantages. George
was regarded the liantlsomest youth, as
Catherina was the most beautiful maiden
in all Venice, and both were united by a
love as strong as it was rare.

(Seorge had now attained that point
which separates youth from mar.li')od.
H_is restless spirit yearned after activity,
and broocled over all lzincls of enlerprisas,
for ambition was the inheritance of his
family. To the keen eye of old I\'lnt‘C0,
not a fold in the soul of the young man
remained concealed. “ My son,” said he
to him one day, “ you are still in the sea-
son of passion, when one has no just
standard by which to judge things accord-
ing to their real value, and easily over-
estimates his power. Upon the path of
life which you will hereafter tread, every
step must be carefully considered. The
result of our efforts, depends ‘especially
upon the opinions which men have of us,
and the errors and missteps of youth will
commonly long affect the man, and deter-
Wfltic the public judgment of him, not only
in the present, but also in time to come.
Withdraw yourself for some years, avoid
the eyes of your fellow citizens, which
are directed only too constantly upon our
family, and let them meanwhile quite for-
get you, until you can appear as a man,
and surprise by your great advancement.
Go for a time to the islaudvof Cyprus, to
my estates which lie in the neighborhood
"of Famagusta. l have in that city an old
and tried friend,who will cordially receive
you. Listen to his advice; be has not
purchased his experience in the school of
life in vain. But above all observe the
great fundamental principle, that feeling
should be the inward judge of our actions,
but their direction should every where be
determined only by the understanding."
George willingly assented to the propo-
sal. The foreigu, the tinknown, strongly
attracts youth, because it does not limit
their drcams,,w_ishes and hopes, and lies

Drab, Brown, and Black Velvet: ; linings, over-
coat binding aud it great variety of other articles
too numerous to mention. Garments ctit and
made in a neat. and satisfactory- manner. *

Cutting done as usual. Thankful for past

favors he would respectfully solicit a contiuua- 1

tion of the same. ELBERT CURTIS.
Norwalk, November ‘7, 1848. - 45

For Sale.

_A good and convenient dwelling
. house, with about two acres of land,
1"“. ~ situated on the west bank of the
 river, in full view of the harbor and
inilroad. Said propert_v will be sold at ‘it bar-
"gain, and oti very favorable terms, if applied for
soon. For particulars inquire at this Office.
Norwnlk, Nov. 6, 1848. 4-5

 

F013 SALE.—-A small dwel-
ling and lot containing half an acre
 of land, with fruits, &c. thereon, ly-
. . ing on the east side of the harbor.
It can be made to pay 12 per cent per annum.
Enquire at this office.

 

 

Real Estate for Sale.

BOUT one and a quai'te‘i' acres of land
with a good two story dwelling house and
barn standing thereon, also a thrifty orchard of
apple trees; pleasantly situated in New Canaan,
about 80 rods east of the Churches. To a me-
chaivic, a good opportunity is offered for invest-
ment. A good "title given and payment made
easy. For further particulars enquire of [Ian-
ford Diivenpdrt or Wm. L. \Varriug. New Cu-

naan, or of LEWIS S. BENEDICT.

Norwalk,.Nov. 33, 1848.

indefinite in the shadowy distance. The
separation from his beloved sister alone
made his heart heavy; and when she, at
the moment of his departure, hung around
his neck, and her warm tears flowed over
his check, his own eye was also moisten-
ed, nnd he sought in vain for words to
express his overpowering emotion. She
suddenly tore herself from him, took from
the table a miniature richly set with
brilliants, reached it to him in silence,
and with a look of mingled love and grief
immediately withdrew to her chamber.

Famagnsta. The confusion of a seaport
could present little that was attractive to
one who had come from Venice, and as
the friend of his father was absent, he be-
tooit himself to his family estates.

To the northward of Famagusta stretch-
es out a plain which constitutes the an-
cient kingdom of Salamis. Here, amid
fruitful fields, between olive and miilborry
trees, lay the princely country seat of the
Conaros. The way thither was shaded
with spice trees, transplanted from Arabia,

with fragrance.
The sun \vas’just'setting as George up-

country, the repose of nature excited in

er felt before.
neighborhood cloisters and villages began

George landed happily in the harbor of

whose aromatic blossoms loaded the air‘

preached the village. ‘The quiet of the

his heart a melancholy which he had nev-
Suddenly the bells of the

. to ring. The youth inquired of a peasant

“Ah,” replied the peasant, with evi-
dent displeusure—“ that betokens our
new master. V8 have fallen an heirloom
to the king of Savoy, and to-inorrow his
governor will receive our homage.” He
added several bitter curses, and not anoth-
er word could George extract from him.

James, the last legitiiiiate soverei_5_zn of
Cyprus, oftlie house of Lusignan, had jtist
died, and besides an illegitimate son,
James had left an only daughter who had
married Louis of Savoy, and who now in-
herited the cm avn of Cyprus. George
had already heard this intelligence on his
arrival at Fuiriagusta, but the event was
one of indifference to hi'm and would not

for the angry tone of the peasant, which
he soon observed also among the people
of his own estates. He anticipated
stormy times. not without secret pleasure
for the wild excitements of the elements,
both in nature and life, had for him a more
winning voice than quiet and repose. He
l.l'l(‘-l‘8ft)l’e soon resolved to tarry only ti
few days in the country, and then go to
Nicosia, the capital, for the ' purpose of
observing the course of events in that
neigliborliood.

Employ ed with these and similar
thoughts, he took :2 walk, and without re-
marking his way, had reached a lonely
region where some very ancient ruins lay,
which were in a great measure covered
by moss, ivy, and low bushes. He sat
down upon a stone, gazing abstractly be-
fore him, until the shoulder of a human
figure awoke him from his dreams. He
looked tip and a hunter stood before him,
leading a couple of hounds by it lush,
and who addressed him in u courteous
manner.

“ You are probably a stranger,” said he
“ and do not know how dangerous it is to
sit among these ruins.”

“ Dangerous—wherefore 'l" .

“ The scorpion spider makes its abode

lime,” answered the liunter--"' and its
bite is fatal.”

The noble form of the young man, and

the attention which he showed him, in-
stanlly won the young Venetian. He

engaged in conversation with him and

made some inquiries in relation to the-’
ruins.

“ You see here,’ answcrr-cl the hunter,
“ the few remains of the ancient city of
Salamis, which Teucer, the companion of
Ajax built." _
George cast a long earnest glance at

have excited his attention had it not been ..

.will the game then be’!

 

things shun that condition in wliich in mm;
no l0fn__ger belongs to himself. It is the
liketfiess of my sister.” -

“ Your sister? and is this sister still
unmarried I" '

Cornaro. assured him that she was, and
soon sought to direct the conversation
again to the affairs of Cyprus. Litsignan
informed him that on the cV'cningp.r.._e_v'iiot1s
delegates had waited on him frornNicosia,
Fumagusta and other places o_f the Island.
All were prepared to take up arms, and it
depended on himself alone to ascend the
throne. '

“ And your reply l" inquired George,
anxiously. .,
“ My answer was indecisive. l requir-
ed time until morning, to advise with my
friends on the subject, and to project it

lan.”‘

“ The plan is easy L-‘n0tlf_7ll made. Take
the governor prisont-r, seize and fortify
every, point of the island, where a land
could be affected; receive the oath of al-
legiance from the people, and cause your-
self _ to be crowned at once by the arch-
bishop of Nicosia in the cathedral of St.
St’ hill.” I

l[.iusignan paced tlioughtfully to and fro
in the apartment. At last he approaclied
George Ctirnaro, took his hat and said,-
“ This afternoon you shall hear my decis-
ion.”

“ You can hardly be at a loss bow to
decide,” added the Venetian, “ unless you
find it difficult. to choose between a prison
and ti crown." -
Lusignan looked at his companion in
the utmost astonishment, but Cornaro
quietly proceeded. “ The feelings and
wishes of the islanders cannot probably
remain long concealed from the governor.
They will rcgartl you as the cause of these
wishes, and even if your intentions are
not dangerous, your name and your mere
existence are so. The king of Savoy can
never believe himself firmly possessed of
this lsltmd, ifyour liberty and life are not
at his disposal.”

“ He dare not attempt any hostile ac-
tion in relation to me l"

“. He will dare it! and in whose hands
, VVith the "last
tunic Cl_€S('€l'ldClll. of the Lnsignan, also the
wishes and hopes of our countrymen. On
what possible prop can they le-an for sup
port, when they no longer have you f”

lliispcn than with any more .s‘au,c__riiiiiary

 

No. 2.
BY JOHN S. C. ABBOTT.

Lamartine, with a saddened and a world-
vveary spirit, sought a resource for his
angtiish in the incidents of foreign travel,
and turned his steps towards Italy, the
land so rich in every i'eminiscei'ice wliich
could attract a.p0c!l(' mind. Just emerg-
ing from the seclusion of the cloister, arid
still under the dominion of tliat'lieart-
spell from which even the death "of the
loved one could not disenthrall him, he
wandered from place to place, now op-
pressed with the deepest dcjection, and
again moved by the iniensest luxury of
poetic sentiment. His name and his fame
had traveled before him. Fashionable
touri. >.kl}€,:‘,,’(;\Ol“illnenl, courted his
Society !'lK,,(_l\‘lt1,j\‘__‘nEté(I‘..-‘llipon him their most
flattering a'Ni€ntions. These droughts
were intoxicating to the excitable spiritof
the poet. He was quite unprepared, by
any previous discipline, to resist these
allurements, by 'uliich he was beguiled
into the paths of forbidden indulgent~e.—
While thus loitering and luxuriati'n;_1, with
all the fervor of his aroused genius, under
the sunny skies of that land of roniance,
and caressed by all the cliiltlren of wealth
and rank, he forgot the munitions of a
motliei’s love, and wondered far from the
paths of piety and peace. Thou__»li pre-
served by the instinctive delicacy of his
nature, and by the visions of beauty ever
floating tlirougli his mind, from Vtllt_‘{t_!l' and
degi'udirig vice, he surrendered himself,
during a few months of lllf{ll.ll:lll0l’l., to the
l't.'ll,_1lOl'll€SS and soulless votaries of pleas-
ure. But God, mindful of It motlicr’s
prayers, in the following manner arrested
him in this fatal career. ' in an eloquent
poem t‘.'liit.'ll he wrote at this time, des-
criptive of the abasement of holy, L:tmar-
tine exclaimed, in reference to the degen-
eracy of the modern Italians,

poems, all_rich with emotions drawn from‘
'l‘h_e.-be works were the ( liosen cornpanjons‘

pillow of the maiden, to blend their sweet’
images with the dreams of the morning.
But the spirit of the noble mother was"
still enshrined in the heart of the noble
child. Her early instructions had aroused‘
in his soul the spirit of sacred enthusiasm.‘
“ From the most tender infancy,-”: he says,
“ my mother had inspired me with a taste‘
for Biblical lore. I burned, from the age‘
of eight years, with the desire of going
to visit those mountains on" which God‘
descended ; those deserts where’ the zmg”el~
pointed out tofllagar the hidden‘ spriing”,
whence bet banished child, dying wi-iht

rivers which flowed from the terrestrial
paradise; the spot in the firmtiment at
which the angels were seen, ascending‘

always dreaming of traveling in the East.-
I never ceased arranging, in my ‘mind, 3
vast and religious poem, of which these
beautiful spots should be the’ principal‘
theme.” "

I has animated, he prepared to" go, wphv
those two inseparable parts of himself, his‘
wife and his daughter Julia, on his plltrrima

- _ _ ,, _
:i,t__{e io'the I-J-o|y_Land. Leaving l'll3_
beautifui mansion and all the objects of
interest which had there entwined them-‘
selves around his heart, he went to Mar".
seilles, and hired a vessel of 250 tons, with
a captain and crew of sixteen men—picked
ttl‘.'-Ell-—l.llCS-8 who could sympathize with‘
Lamartine in his pursuits and his pleasures.
Of the captain he says, -“his physioanomy’
H C u . . . °
pleased me. _ 'l iiere is in his voice that
sedate and sincere accent, which bespeaks‘
firm_probity and a_ clear conscience; and
in his eye, a straight-forward frank and
vivid expression, a certain sign of prompt,-
energetic and intelligent resolution. He’

" f’ai'dnn me. sliadc of'Rnme! for seek I must
El.~'t.‘V\'llt‘I't3 for nnen, and not in htimaii dttst."

A Neapolitan officer, deeming this apes-l
trophe an insult to his countrymen, de-
manded satisfaction with his sword. 'I hey
met; and Lamartine, more skillful with

weapon, was daingerously wounded. For
u long time he lay upon his bed, with like
and death trembling‘ in the balance. Tlic.-’c
hours of sicko-:.ss and solitude were prof-

A long: pause now ensued. Llisigniin,
with folded arms, stood near George, who‘
as if in a fit of abstraction, took up and:

the ruins, and then exclaimed, as if spe:ik-
iug to himself, “A gicat name is then
more immortal than all else whicli man
produces.”

" Strangely enough,” replied the litinleifl
“we devote. our lives to the purpose of!
making others talk of us when we are
dead.”

As the way of both lay for a considera-
ble disiance in the same direction, they
went on together and became in conse-
quence of their ctimversiitioti so ftltl'lllltll',
that George made no reserve in informing
his companion of his name and the occa-
sion of his abode in Cyprus. The hunter
‘returned the young m'.tu’s confidence with
still greater Qltankness.

“I am a descendant of Lusignan,” said
he, “ but tiiifortitnately not in lawful mar-
riage. The deceascd king James was my
father, and instead of a crown, which he
bequeathed my half sister, he gave me a
cowl. As cation of the cathedral ofNico-
sin, I have some prospect of some time
excltanging my cowl fora mitrje. Mean-
while I do not particiilarly long for this
church dignity, for I hate every thing
whicli renders me dependent, wlietlier it
be upon uien or the relations of rank.” _

“ But why,” intt-rrupted George, “ wliyl
do you not use the moment and secure
for yourself the crown of Cyprus! The-‘
nation is discontented, as I learn, arid is
not willing that this splendid island should
become a remote province of Savoy.”

The young Lusignan looked upon his
-companion with a smile. “ If at crown,”
lsaid he “ should fall upon my head from
nbove,l should probably let it sit there,
but I should never stoop down to pick it
up from the ground.”

During this conversation the young
man had reached a point where the road
divided, and the two ‘mist separate. The
young canon was spending the fine season
of the year in a little villa in the neigh-
borhood, and promised on separating to
visit the young Cornaro on the following
day.

l
I
I

=ll¢ it *

Early on the following morning Lusig-
nan entered the princely mansion of the
Comoros on a visit to his new friend.
They at first touched only on indifferent
‘subjects; they spoke of Venice, of Cy-
prus, and after a time George, as if acci-
denlally, directed the conversation to the
then, present condition oftlie Island. but
at this moment he was called out by a
servant. VVhen he again entered the
room, Lusignan was holding the miniature
of Catherlna, which had been lying upon
the table, in his hand, and regarding it
with great attention.

“ Does that portrait please you 1” in-
quired George, smiling.

“ It is divine!” exclaimed Lusignan.

“ lt was painted by the celebrated mas-
ter Bellini,” remarked George, “ and he
has breathed so much life into the head,
tlial nothing could surpass it.”

“ And you could leave Venice where
such a betrothed remains to mourn your
absence 1” inquired Lusignan, without

‘hand, ifl were king of Cyprus ?”

playcclrwith the portrait. of his sister.
Lusi_<__man at last broke the silence. “ Dal
you think,” said he, while a glowing crim
son siiffu.-:er.l his cheeks, “ do you l.llllll\'
that your sister would not rt-fuse me her

“ I will vouch for ht-r consent," answer-
ed Cornaro, “l will niyself go to Venice
as your suitor, as soon as the crowri of
Cyprus rests upon your head. The result
of this uinrriiige will be a union between
the kings of Cyprus and our republic,
whose interest it, beyond dispute, is to
prevent this Island front becoming a pro-
vince of Savoy.”

Lusignan entered without delay into
the prosecution ofthis undertaking, whose
result, favored as it was by the general
voice of the Islanders, could not be doubt-
ful. The governor of the king of Savoy
was, together with his traiii,.made prison-
ers, and James of Lusignaii was proclaim-
ed successor of his fatlier. He was
crowned without loss of time, at Nicosia
in the Catheilral of St. Sophia, and George.

Venice, to ask, not of his fatlier. but of
the repulilic—tlie hand of the bcatitifiil
Catharina of Cornaro. It was after ma-
ture reflection that George liatl stiggestetl
this mode of proposition to the new king.

itable to the erring; youth. Again, in the
inmost '.'ecessc.'= of his. soul, he‘ heard the
silvery tones ofhis motlicr's voice, plead-
ing with him tn walk in the paths of purity
and peace; or in accents, tremulous tbro’
the inteiisity of maternal love, pleading
with God, in bclialfof her tvniidcriug chil-l.
flint mother was now dead. Biit her
spirit still lived and moved in the most
siicred recesszs of her son’s soul. He rose
from that bed, pale and languid, but to
hasten to the Granil Duke in person, and
implore his clctriency in behalf of the offi-
cer who had cliallenged and wounded him.
Agziiii he went fl)|‘-ll into the world, dis-
entliralled from those frivolities so nnwor-'
iii)’ the eiigi'os.sirieiit of his elitlfililt-‘(l nature.
Tis true that his perceptions of the purity
and spirituality of religion were doubtless
dim, but he was no l()ll}_!€‘!' floatiiig aimless
upon the current of life, and whirled in
every vortex of approacliiinq temptation.
His spirit was still saddened by the blow
which hail so utterly \\'l'C'L'lt'€Cl all his
youthful llO;.‘!?S, and he wantlcrerl aiiiong
the ruins of Italy, finding congeiiial gloom
in the midst ofitlic iuonltlcrin_q sliritics
and ('.l'llll'll)lll'l_Q' temples, vvliich his iniagiu-

hastened, as ciiibassador of the lvlllgq l()lllll"ll peopled with the spirits of the dc-

parted. Familiar as he was vith tozuan
story, every step lie trod was animated
wit.ii .scenes of tragic ii'it0i‘e.sl; and his
spirit peiisively reveled, by ltl_{i'll. and by

day, in the ltixtiiy of its aroused emotions.

and his dauglttei‘ willingly consented to
the Union. The iS'i’gnoi-'i'e,~ foriniilly (le-
clarcd Catharina a (l:lllQ’l'liel‘ of the Repub-
lic, and this n as precisely what George
desired. They could now _in any case
reckon upon the protection of Venice
should Savoy choose at any time to ad
vance her claims.

, The happiness which Catharine enjoy-
ed at the side of her husband, was mean‘-
wliile of short duration. He (lied in two
years after his accession to the throne,
without haviiig left an heir. Savoy now
renewed her claims., and parties arose on
the Island. George flew to Cyprus, pur-
suaded his sister to bestow her kingdom
on the republic, and end her days in her
paternal city. She left the island about
the year 1477, and was received in Venice
with royal honors. The republic remained
in possession of Cyprus until 157i, when
this princely possession, the key of Egypt
fell, through the indolence, igiiorance and
neglect of the then present Signorie into
the hands of the Turks.

A handsome young Yankee pedlar made
love to a buxom wi.low in Pennsylvania.
He accompanied his declaration with two
impediments to theia union:

“ Name them,” said the widow.

“The want of means to set up a retail
store.” ‘

They parted, and she sent the pedlar a
check for ample means. When they met
again the pedlar had hired and stocked
his store, and the fair one begged to know
the other impediment. ’

“l have another wife !” replied the

taking liiseye from tliepicture.

notion dealer.

I \ - -
llie aged Doge was joyfully Slll‘pl‘l!‘~P(l:
at this cmba.-sy Ofyllls sun, and both he,

One evening, alone and tliotiglitftil, lie
',w:is St1lll'il.&"lll,£{ in ltttliati ll'l()()l'lll}2l'll, near
to castle \\T'h'ose towers. and battleii'iei.t;s
l\\'Cl'f:‘ tlistiiictly painted on the (lurk sky of
lniglii, when his car was arrested by n
pensive strain of irjiisic, wliich, from :1
balcony over his head, was warblcd by a
voice of ll'lLll"V§‘.lt)tlS ritiliries-, upon the
eveiiing‘ air. He listened, surprised and
entranced, to the following stanzas from
his own “Meditations:
“A liopt-lass return of the bliss wliieli has flown
I’crhaps in the future is stored for me still.
And p'ei'li:ips iii the crowd, ti sweet spirit iiiiknowii
Will aiiswer me kiiiill_y',:ind know my soul well.”
Lamartine retired, but not to sleep.-
His soul was inflamed with anew passion.
He sought out the fair songsftress, and

land, of great _\vcalth and be:itity—anotliet‘
-Elvira. ‘The attziclitrient, intense and en-
tliusiastic, was instinctive and mutual.——
They were soon wedded, and Lamartine
returned to his native land in the enjoy-
ment of fame and wealtli,s't3t'h aSf:lIj0yt'Ll
by but few sons-of earth; He reared for
himself a mansion, in the midst of culti-
vated ,{_Tl‘OlJn(lS of the highest beauty, stir-
rounded with all those comforts and em-
bellished with all those attractions, which
a man of taste, devoted to literary leisure,
could covet. Here, in the midst of all
those elegances which opulence and
refinement could create, with his_ books.
his wife, and the beautiful. little daughter
Julia, soon entrusted to their care, a few
years of the purest ‘enjoyment glided rap-
idly away. The name of Lamartine was
renowned through Christendom and poets
and philosophers from all lands, were
charmed by the welcome they found, and
the intellectual treats with whichjtliey
ever were regaled in hisltospitable home.

found her to be at young lady from Eng-_

is; beside, mild, polite and well bred. I
i. . . - - - ,-
.i.ite studied him uith till the care that
we ought naturally to take in the choice‘
of a man, to whom we are about to confii:le_
not only our. fortunes,- but‘ our life, and
that of our wife and only child; in which
latter, the lives of three beings are "con-'
ventrattetlaii one.” He bids adieu to tonic‘
in impassioned song-5 I ,
‘- Farewell, mine aged futliei°—.=istei's dent in A
Farewell, my house beneath the vtaliiut freer
Farewell, my brave steeds, still in the field;
l“ai'cwell. my liiithfiil dog, lone by the heartbf
Your image tt‘tilllilt:.~‘ me—’iis as the shade ’
Of my past liiippiness, that woos my stuy—-
Ah! may it rise less doubtful and less dim,"
The hour that shall restore us!" ' ' '

_ _Tll9 V°$5€l was arranged and furnislietf
:\}'llll every possible convenience and com’.
‘fort for such. a journey. One large cabin
l“""‘5 "Plf'°P"[“led to ‘Madame Lamartine’
good Julia, with an adjoining room‘ for the"
liisaitl-serva‘nt};s, [who were devoted to their
,mi.-tress wit t ie most intt-use aflizciion.
' One room was the library, sacred to‘
lstmly,» and ornamented with alibrary of-
‘g.7.\Of)'\’i)llllt'IeS of books of the choicest se-'
llection. Three gentlemen, bosom friends
lit"BF‘i‘..‘;’§§‘i~.‘§:‘.?§i"f.f..§2’.il’.?.°;‘9:“

“ ‘ill. Ainedee is one of those men wildly;
jPruvidence has attached to I our steps,-
‘Wlleti it first sees that we shal have need
[of a support wliich will not bend beneath
:Cllil(-3|‘ iiiisforttine or danger. We have‘
ll)€€'nfllIti[|lL’(l siplce‘ oqr earliest (yeays, by"
,an :1 cc ion w ici a no term 0 our‘
lll\'('S has been found to cooll. My mother‘
fltiveil him as a son, and l have loved liiin
Las a brother. Whenever [was wouneed
{by the shafts of fate, I found him at hand,_
-,or saw him hasten to divert a portion of
Etllettl on his own lieatl-—the principal por-
,tion. the’ whole of the misfortune, had that
‘lbcen possible. He has a heart which
beat:- only for the happiness, or the misery
of others. Wlieu l was, fifteen years ago,
at Paris alone and ill, ruined, despairing
-and dying, he passed wliole nights watch-‘
lag near my lamp oflagony. VVhen I lost
some one that l adored, he always hastened,-
the first, to convey delicately the fatal
news, and soothe my sorrow with the balm
,of friendship. On the death of my mother,-
lhe reached me as soon’ as the fatal tidings‘;
-and took me ‘.200 leagues, even to‘ the’
‘tomb where l souglit in vain the last fare-
well she had addressed to me, but wlii'cli'-
I had not heard. At a later period-,bu_,t,’
my misfortunes are not over—and l shall
find his friandshipas long as there is tie:
spuir to soothe in my_heart, or tears to‘
mingle with.rr;ine.”

Of M..de Capmas, another friend invited
to accompany him, he says,“ He is one
of those men, in elligent, well educated;
anclldof 3'!plCl'l0l' rnipd, yi'b_om1q_verythiti‘g
yic s to tie scrup ‘o io'no'r'.

The third was I a pliysian, takcii as a
precaiition for the health of the party. Of
him Lamariine says, “ I became tictpiainted
with M. de la Royere at my sister’s at the
time I meditated my departure. The
purity of his soul, the naive and original
grace of his mind, and the elevation of

y

‘cibly struck ‘me. I wished to take him
with me, much more as "a moral resource
than as a precaution for health, andl have
since had reason to congratulate myself
upon my choice.”

In addition to these, he‘ took six servants,
all of whom had lived long in the family,
or had been born under the parental roof.
“ They all,” says Lainartine, “ tire delighted

pleasure, and they geily brave the’ fatigue:

- the mostsilent depts of the human heart-

Of the thoughtful, and were hid under tlie '

thirst, might derive refreshment; those" _

and descending Jacob's ladder. Iwas“

his political and religious sentiments, for-

with the thoughts of‘ the voyage, and take" ‘
a personal interest,i'i'_t it. Each of them‘
fancies that he is fi:1tv'elling for his own-

 

 

 

 

 
 

 
 

 

 

 

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