ance, only four hours, uttering prayers for the triumph of liberty. His ardent patriotism imposed silence upon the agonies he suffered. Some minutes previous to his death, he exclaimed, Let my family know that I die content, because I am confident that victory must be ours. It is delicious, it is glorious to die for my country!' A man running into a wine-shop, in the course of the evening, where some of the citizens were assuaging their thirst, demanded if any one could accommodate him with twenty francs for a Louis? I am afraid not, my friend,' said one of the party; 6 we have just got rid of one not worth twenty sous.' In the contest at the Porte St. Denis, a lad of fifteen advanced through the fire of grape and musketry to an officer commanding the cavalry which supported the artillery. When close to him he shot him through the head, and he instantly fell. A general volley was aimed at this bold youth, who, on seeing the muskets levelled, threw himself flat on the ground, and after the discharge returned to his line unhurt. Perceiving he had left his cap on the place where he had thrown himself, he returned for it without hesitation, and again escaped the fire levelled at him. A veteran of the old army observed, in the Rue de la Sonnerie, a young man from the faubourgs with a very good musket, to the use of which he was evidently a stranger. He requested the loan of it for a few minutes, and, placing himself behind the Café Secretaire, he fired upon a column of Swiss who debouched on the Place du Chatelét, a soldier fell. The whole column returned the fire, but without effect. He retreated behind the house, loaded, and again fired, with the same success. About fifty of the armed citizens, from different positions, imitated his movements, and notwithstanding the hail-storm of balls, such was their activity and precision, that not one of them was wounded. The Swiss troops fell into disorder, and their colonel ordered a retreat, leaving the place covered with dead. When the detachment of the line, which guarded the military prison of the Abbaye, surrendered their arms to the National Guards, M. Suberbie, one of them, gave his prisoners some refreshment at a wine-shop in the neighbourhood. An Englishman, who witnessed the general energy, said to him, Monsieur, the bravery shown by the French to reconquer their liberty will 66 be the admiration of all people.""Yes," replied the National Guard, "and our prudence and wisdom after victory will also demand the respect of all kings." In the midst of the fusillade at the Place de Grève, a working mason perceiving that a cornice of one of the pilasters of the Hotel de Ville, threatened to fall, and crush beneath it the citizens who were fighting, procured a ladder and some plaster, fixed it firmly, and then came down with as much coolness, as if he had been pursuing his occupation in a time of the most profound peace. Some poor workmen having forced the shop of a gunsmith, who had already surrendered his treasury of powder, sought for more in all quarters, even among his furniture. In one of his drawers they found some money and a bill. One of them shut the drawer instantly, and said "This is not what we are looking for." At the moment when the Royal Guard attacked the Pupils of the Polytechnic School, in order to carry off their cannon, the latter, perceiving the fault committed by the Guard in attacking them in front, instead of endeavouring to make a diversion on their flanks, cried out, "they don't know their trade, we shall defeat them." The end verified their assertion. In the pockets of a great number of the soldiers who were killed, a considerable sum of money was found, which, with very few excep'ions, even the poorest citizens did not touch, directing all their attention to the cartridges. It is said to have been ascertained that each soldier had received 30fr. to agree to resist the people. Two privates of the 5th regiment of the line, who surrendered early in the contest, declared that they were promised 25fr. a man, of which they had been paid 10fr. in advance. During the heat of the fire from the Swiss defending the Louvre, some National Guards and others, opposite to the great gate facing the Rue du Coq, were observed to waver. A major of the old army, a Piedmontese by birth, but naturalised in France, cheered them with his voice. The greyheaded man, pistol in hand, exclaimed,"Courage, courage, my friends! Fear not that Swiss balls can penetrate French hearts! Do not suffer your character for bravery, famed over all Europe, to be shaken! Courage!Let us march to victory." THE BOOK'S ADDRESS TO ITS [The following lines were written on the first page of an Album, formed from the inner bark of a tree ] Would you my origin and nature learn, Ere my uniquely curious leaves you turn,- Beneath the expanding canopy of heaven, care, Behold the curious strips of sylvan rind, Concluded from p. 277. WHILE Some of the voltigeurs were engaged in constructing a rude handbarrow of chesnut-tree branches, and others in binding up Gianetto's wounds, Mateo Falcone and his wife suddenly made their appearance at the turn of the path leading to the maquis. The woman advanced slowly, bending under the weight of a large bag full of chesnuts, while her husband carried nothing but a gun in his hand, and another slung at his back; for it is considered unworthy of a man to encumber himself with any other burden than his weapons. On perceiving the soldiers, Mateo's first thought was that they had come to take him. But whence this notion? Had Mateo any thing to do with jus- but he was a Corsican, a highlander,. and there is not a Corsican highlander, but, if he questions his conscience, would find it allege against him some petty violation of the law, such as shoo!ing, stabbing, and the like trifles. Mateo, it is true, had a clearer conscience than any of his neighbours, for it was above ten years since his gun had been pointed at a human being; but he was nevertheless cautious, and prepared for an obstinate defence, in case of emergency. "Wife," said Mateo to Giuseppa, "throw down thy sack, and be in readiness." She instantly obeyed, and he gave her the gun, which had been hanging at his back and impeded his motions. Then cocking the other, he proceeded slowly close to the trees which bordered the way leading to his house, prepared, on the slightest hostile movement, to throw himself behind the thickest tree, and to fire under its protection. His wife followed at his heels, carrying the other rifle and the pouch. In case of a conflict, it is the business of a good wife to load her husband's gun. The adjutant, on his part, was equally alarmed when he saw Mateo thus advancing with deliberate step, his piece ready, and his finger on the trigger. If, thought he, Mateo should happen to be a relative or friend of Gianetto's, and determine to defend him, his two balls would as surely reach two of us as a letter by the post; and he might even take aim at me, notwithstanding our relationship. In this dilemma he adopted the bold resolution of going alone to Mateo, addressing him as an old acquaintance, and relating to him the whole affair; but the short distance which separated him from Mateo appeared to him dreadfully long. "Holla! old comrade!" cried he; "how goes it, my good friend, I am thy cousin Gamba." Mateo stood still without answering a word, slowly raising the barrel of his piece, so that, at the moment when the adjutant came close to him, its mouth pointed upwards. "Buon giorno, fratello" ["Good day, brother'-the usual salutation of the Corsicans] said the adjutant, extending his hand to him; "what a time it is since I saw thee last!" "Good day, brother!” "I resolved to give thee and cousin We have had Pepa a call, in passing. a long march to-day, but we must not complain, as we have taken such a prize. We have just caught Gianetto Sangiero." "God be thanked!" cried Giuseppa, "he stole one of our milch-goats last week." Gamba was overjoyed on hearing these words. "Poor devil!" said Mateo, "he was hungry." "The rascal fought like a lion," resumed the adjutant; "he has killed one of my voltigeurs, and, not content with this, has broken corporal Chardon's arm-however, that is no great matter, for he is only a Frenchman. At last he contrived to hide himself so cleverly that the very devil would not have found him. I should never have caught him, but for my cousin, Fortunato." "Fortunato!" exclaimed Mateo. แ "Yes. Gianetto had hid himself under the hay-rick; but my little cousin put me on the right scent. I shall certainly tell his uncle, the caporale, all about it, that he may make him some pretty present for his pains; and his name and thine shall be introduced into the report which I shall send to the attorney-general." "Maledetto !" muttered Mateo. They had now come up to the troop. Gianetto was extended upon the handbarrow, ready to be borne away. When he saw Mateo with Gamba, a caustic smile played upon his features; then, turning towards the door of the house, he spat upon the threshold and ejaculated: "House of a traitor!" None but a man prepared to die durst have uttered the word traiter, and applied it to Falcone. The stab of a poniard, which there would have been no need to repeat, would instantly have avenged the insult. Mateo merely lifted his hand to his brow, like a man oppressed with sorrow. Fortunato had gone into the house when he saw his father approaching. He soon came back with a bowl of milk, which, with downcast look, he offered to Gianetto. "Away with thee!" cried the latter, in a voice of thunder; then turning to one of the voltigeurs, he said, "Comrade, give me something to drink." The soldier handed to him his gourd flask, and the bandit drank the water given by a man with whom he had just been exchanging bullets. He then begged that his hands might be bound ove his bosom, and not behind him. "I wish to lie easy," said he. The soldiers hastened to comply with his desire; the adjutant then gave the signal for departure, bade farewell to Mateo, without obtaining a word in reply, and descended at a rapid pace to the plain. More than ten minutes passed before Mateo opened his lips. The boy raised his anxious eyes first to his mother, then to his father, who, supported by his rifle, glared on him with looks of suppressed rage. "Thou hast begun well!" at length said Mateo, in a voice apparently calm, but which must have sounded terribly to any one who knew him. "Father!" cried the boy, approaching, with tears in his eyes, to throw himself at his feet. "Back!" exclaimed Mateo. The boy stood still and sobbed. Giuseppa came up. She had observed the end of the watchchain hanging from the bosom of Fortunato's shirt. "Who gave thee this watch?" asked she, in an austere tone. "My cousin, the adjutant." Falcone snatched the watch, and dashed it against a stone with such force that it was shivered to pieces. "Wife," said he, with awful solemnity," is this boy my child?" Giuseppa's embrowned cheeks were flushed with deep crimson. "What dost thou mean, Mateo? Knowest thou to whom thou art speaking?" "Well, then, this boy is the first of his race that has been a traitor." Fortunato's sobs and moans redoubled, and Falcone kept his scrutinizing eyes steadfastly upon him. At length he struck the ground with the butt-end of his piece, then threw it over his shoulder, taking the way back to the maquis, and ordering Fortunato to follow him. The boy obeyed. Giuseppa ran after Mateo, and laying hold of his arm: "He is thy son!" said she, in a tremulous voice, fixing her dark eyes on her husband's, as if to discover what was passing in his mind. "Leave me," replied Mateo; "I am his father." Giuseppa embraced her son, and returned weeping to the cottage, where she fell on her knees before the image of the Virgin, and prayed most fervently. Falcone meanwhile proceeded a few hundred paces along the path, and stopped in a narrow ravine, into which he had descended. He tried the ground with the butt-end of his rifle, and found that it was light and easy to dig. The spot seemod suited for his purpose. "Fortunato," said he, "go to that great stone."-The boy did as he was bidden, and knelt down. "Say thy prayers," repeated Mateo, in a terrible voice. Sobbing and stammering, the boy recited the Credo and the Pater. At the conclusion of each, the father ejaculated, in a loud voice, "Amen!" "Are those all the prayers thou knowest?" "Father, I know the Ave Maria, and the Litany, which my aunt taught me." "It is long, but never mind. ' The boy, with a faint voice, repeated the litany. "Hast thou finished?" "O father, have mercy! Forgive me, I will never do so again! I will go to my uncle, the caporale, and not leave him until I have obtained Gianetto's pardon." He was still speaking, when Mateo, with his finger upon the trigger, took aim, crying, "May God forgive thee!" The boy made a desperate effort to rise, for the purpose of throwing himself at his father's feet, but he had not time. Mateo fired, and Fortunato fell dead on the spot. Without casting a look at the body, Mateo returned home for a spade to bury his son. He had not gone many paces before he was met by Giuseppa, who, alarmed by the report, hastened towards the place. "What hast thou done?" cried she. "An act of justice." "Where is he?" "In the ravine. I am going to bury him. He died like a good Christian. I will have mass said for him. Let my son-in-law, Teodoro Bianchi, know that he is to come, and henceforward live Fam. Mag. with us." CHEROCKEE*: AN AMERICAN TRADITION, Continued from p. 282. THE governor, on seeing who was approaching, hastily closed the book, and said, "Noah, I have been considering that it would be better to collect the inhabitants after the provisions are done, and make a sally on the enemy." "It is something to that effect I am come to advise; but before allowing our affairs to reach such an extremity, would it not be better to send out thirty or forty men (I will head them myself,) to some of the neighbouring settlements for provisions?" The governor, who had hastily expressed himself, was taken • Fraser's Mag. by surprise at this new reasonable proposition, and scarcely knowing wherefore, felt himself unreasonably angry; but Noah, without seeming to notice his passion, added, "there are but three days' provisions remaining, and it is full time the inhabitants of the village were consulted." In a voice rendered only half audible by passion, the governor returned-"What! am I to be dictated to?" Noah made no other answer, but bowed to the governor, and walked away: he hastened, however, to his friend's bed-side, and related his disappointment. "Well," said Amidab, thoughtfully, "The person whom government has appointed we are bound to obey, and, therefore, I beg you to lay this thought of appealing to the settlers aside." "But government never intended that we should rashly sacrifice our lives to this man's folly-it cannot be it is impossible, and I, for one, will not do So." "I am sorry," said his friend, "very sorry to find the seeds of rebellion so casily quickened." Amidab was about to speak, when Noah exclaimed "Hush! hush! what noise is that! Perhaps the enemy have made another attack." They listened. "Yes-there it is again; it is their rifles." Here they were stopped by terrible shouts, accompanied by shouts and cries. Amidab turned to speak to Noah; he was gone; he, however, managed to get his rifle, and to drag himself to a small window or loop-hole, where he saw his friend engaged with a gigantic Indian, who would, however, have been overcome, had not two more rushed to his assistance. A shot from a rifle killed one of them, who was in the act of brandishing his tomahawk in the one hand, and his scalping-knife in the other, over his intended victim. The shot came so truly to his heart, that he instantly dropped dead. Noah, now seeing one of his foes fallen, attacked the other two, one of whom he felled with a blow of his axe; the other turned to fly, but he was stopped by another deadly messenger from the window of the hut, which took him in the back, and he fell face forwards, on the ground, where he never moved again. Not staying to look at his dead foes, Noah rushed into the midst of the battle, and was about to be mowed down by an Indian, when he was saved by another shot at the moment when his finger was at the trigger. The origin of this attack was somewhat remarkable one of the sentinels had deserted; the French seeing the post undefended, marched directly to the place, and began to clamber over the trees, when one of their muskets went off and alarmed the garrison; but not before some of the most active of the Indians had got over the rampart, uttering their tremendous war-whoop. The settlers, thus surprised, were, at first, driven back, but soon rallying, repulsed their assailants with great bravery-pouring an effectual volley upon them as they retreated. In this affair the governor was killed, and the whole of the settlers, with one voice, elected Noah to be their commander on the spot. His bravery his coolness, and presence of mind well deserved the honour; for no sooner was order restored, and the enemy beyond the range of the rifles, than Noah resolved to carry into effect the suggestion he had offered to the governor, to procure, if possible, a supply of provisions. A party of the best marksmen in the settlement were accordingly chosen for the sally, and, to stimulate their ardour, he manfully pointed out to them the danger of their enterprise, and dwelt on the necessity that required it. His men expressed their approbation of his sentiments with shouts of applause; and, as soon as it was dark, the expedition set out, followed by the prayers and good wishes of all their friends. The night, which had as yet been calm, was suddenly overcast, so that it was impossible to see many yards before them. They were instantly ordered to proceed crouching, as by that means they might approach without attracting attention; and the slight noise they made was completely drowned by the bursting of the wind in the leaves of the forest. After they had proceeded a short distance in this manner, and were nearly abreast of the enemy's camp, a sudden flash of vivid lightning showed them filing off under the trees. Noah instantly thought they might have been seen if any one had been on the look out, and told his comrades to hurry on, as he expected they would be pursued immediately. As he surmised, they had been discovered by the lightning. Noah, in the meantime, made a rapid circuit round the camp in the woods, leaving their enemies far behind them, (they having mistaken their route); and then, suddenly rushing out on the camp, fired it in all directions, and either slew or made prisoners the remainder of its defendants, the rest having gone with the commander to attempt to storm the fort. The party that had pursued them, were now wending their toilsome way back, having lost all traces of them, but were thrown into confusion by a discharge from hidden assailants, which killed nearly half of them, and before they had time to recover themselves, they were attacked on all sides by a band of Indians, headed by the wellknown Cherockee, and were soon deprived of their scalps. Little more remains to be said. The French commander not finding the fort so unprepared as he expected, and having some regard for the safety of his men, sounded a retreat. But upon turning to go, judge of his horror and amazement at seeing a bright flame ascending from the direction of his camp, and upon approaching nearer, he distinguished the shouts of the victors and shrieks of the conquered. By this time the remainder of the men in the fort viewing the conflagration, rushed out in pursuit of the French, who were now hemmed in on all sides, and not having any chance of escape, surrendered at discretion; being deprived of their arms, they were permitted to depart in safety, upon promising not to fight again during the war, which was soon after this happily ended. Cherockee became the ally of the English, and in the course of time the village rose to be the town of Lexington. THE BABINGTONS. A TALE OF CHADSTOW. It was high noon when the Lady of Curborough entered the cathedral. The first things that struck the eye were the windows-enormous frames of living paintings, sunbright delineations of patriarchal, apostolical and princely portraitures, intermingled with armorial shields and legends; the rich colours were relieved by the flowery tracery of cool gray stone, that wreathed itself amidst the flaming panes. The wooden ceiling, of fantastic Norman work, was wrought in large lozenges, each containing, in brilliant colours of white, green, crimson, gold, black, scarlet and blue, portraits of crowned, helmed, or mitred benefactors; while grotesque emblems were here and there introduced to ridicule the Augustines, Dominicans and other orders of preaching friars, whom the monks had with reason con |