guine in the success of British arms, in redu- Tory belles sought fruitlessly to influence by

cing the colonies to obedience, remained, and became for a time the scourge of the place. When the British landed in Rhode Island, they were of course welcomed with open arms by them, and long before that, they were secretly aided and encouraged by these people. But although the Vandals were

feted and feasted to their hearts' content, it did not in all instances protect their proper ty, and some fine houses of their friends were unceremoniously turned into quarters, their best horses taken upon pretences of carrying dispatches, and the beautiful trees of their parks and pleasure-grounds ruthlessly hewed down for fuel, that money would not procure from the incensed Americans. Indeed, so great was the destruction of property, and so wanton the devastation, that several gentlemen, becoming disgusted at the evacuation halted, and refused to leave with the Tories, trusting rather to the mercies of the justly-incensed people, than to their conquerors. It would have been a great mercy to the place if all possessed of Tory principles had left; the remains of that leaven operated in alculable mischief thro' out the war, by their constant aid to the enemy, for whom they acted as spies and informers to the last. But the day of their triumph was short. When the French army entered Newport, they were obliged to confine themselves to close quarters; for though nothing could exceed the politeness of that habitually polite people, yet their vigilance was unremitted.

The English had stabled their horses in one of the places of worship, and torn up the pews to make fire-wood of; and it was a common saying of the Tories, that "the French had repaired all the mischief the English had done." But although they were constrained to do them this justice, they were plotting in secret to do them all the injury possible.

There were many gentlemen in the French garrison of high rank, and of great personal worth, and several quite remarkable for personal beauty; and these, tradition says, "the

the magic of their charms." Among the most admired was the Count De Luzerne, a man of noble presence and elegant manners. We ourselves have heard in our childhood many a sigh from some of the aged spinsters, when reference was made by any one to the fate of that captivating soldier, who afterward suffered decapitation in the Revolution in France, as the Duke D'Byron, to which title he succeeded his father a few years af.or leaving our shores. Several of these ancient dames had danced with him while in Rhode Island, and they would moun with much feeling "that he could not have renounced the dream of grandeur and continued with us.”

The review of the French troops at Newport, by Washington, was one of the most splendid spectacles ever exhibited on this continent; and as history has not given a description of this pageant, we shall endeav

or to do so. We received our information

from a dying patriot, in 1839, who was present, and with this we will close our present sketch.

The narrator, the late Daniel Updike, Esq., of East Greenwich, observed that Washing ton never appeared to greater advantage than on this occasion, and that he preserved, thro all the adulation he received, in the enthusi astic admiration of the French and the grate ful Americans, the same placidity of countenance and equanimity of manner, that distinguished him on ordinary occasions.— General Washington and suite went over from Connecticut, and was received at the head of Long Wharf by Count Rochambeau, at the head of seven thousand French, who lined the way from thence to the Court House. Mr. Updike said he never felt the solid earth tremble under him before; but the firing from the French ships that filled the harbor, was tremendous. Washington, who, it will be recollected, was a marshall of France, (he could not command the French forces until invested with that title,) wore on this occasion the insignia of his office, and was received with the honors due to one in that capacity. The staff of Count Rocham

bar einsisted of many of the flower of the French nobility; "and never," said the aged narrator, "will the scene be erased fm my memory--the attitude of those nobies, the deep ob sisance which they bowed before the republican hero, and the waving of e..ps and plumes, the long line of French ders, and the general disposition of their as, unique to us.

captivity; she that had drank at the hands of the Lord the cup of His fury, even the dregs of the cup of trembling, and wrung them out! "It was fitting this triumph should be hers."-Family Circle and Parlor.

THE KENTUCKY FORGER.

IT is related of that unfortunate man, Mar

Seperating to the right and left, the chief, tin Brown-who was once a prominent ☛ Count Rochambeau on the left, unbon-member of the Kentucky Legislature, but tel, walked through, the French nobles was confined to the Penitentiary for forgery, ➡d officers, according to their grades, follow that when he first settled in Texas, the in-z in their wake." Count Rochambean, habitants were determined to drive him out 2 described as a small, keen-looking man, of Austin's settlen ent of San Felipe, betot so handsome as his son, the Governor of cause he had been a convict. Austin had Matico. Count Noailles was a splendid forbidden such persons to settle on this fgre, and made a most commanding ap-ground, and colonial law passed by him was perince, as did also a Prussian baron and strict in prohibiting an asylum to refugees and persons rendered infamous by colonies, of whatever description they may be—a law which the father of Texas always enforced with the utmost rigor. Hence, as soon as the settlers informed the General of this new case, he immediately sent out an order warning Brown to decamp within three days on pain of summary punishment.

Iosa count, who walked next. But the

resp endent beauty of the two Viosminils ised all the others. One of these broth ex, so celebratel for their personal beauty stel as bravery, was a general in the army, and bore the title of count. He must hire been young to be invested with that Sre, for both the brothers were represented ts being in the first bloom of manhood.

The messenger was William S, AusMany others of inferior grade, too, follow-tin's private Secretary, a young man of culed: but," said the narrator, "the populace tivated intellect, a noble heart, and generous mly saw them; for the eye of every French-to a fault. He arrived at the Green Heart

mas wa-dire ted to WASHINGTON."

S- forthwith delivered Austin's writen order, which Brown glanced over and then said mournfully

They proveeeded to the Court House, and Grove, the residence of Brown and his famen thence to the lodgings of Count Ro-ly, one summer's noon and found the famidrabeau, down Spring street, preceded by y circle formed around their frugal table. Jie "Pioneers,” a company armed only with It was the dinner hour. nes, which they held straight before thei faces, with the edge outward. It was amuBag to see how far those fellows would rol eir eyes to catch a glimpse of Washington they dared as well die as turn thei Leads The roofs and windows of ever takling were filled with ladies, and th Ettering of handkerchiefs, and showering of favors, greeted them on every side.

This must have been a proud day fo Newport; she that had sat for three lon years at the foot of a ruthless conquero:bdb.en laid bare and desolate, hads ei ho fulls laid waste, and her sous dragged into

"Tell General Austin that I shall never more f.om this spot until I move into my grave. It is true I have committed a great rime in my native State; but I have suf ered the severe penalty of the laws; and hen with my dear wife and children, who till love me, I stole away from the eyes of ociety, which I no longer wish to serve or jure, to live in quiet and die in peace. I m ready and willing to die; but on my mily's account I cannot and will not leave is spot”

Gen. Austin did let the old man alone, cancelled the order for his banishment, and was ever after his steadfast friend.

His wife and daughter implored him to and have but one desire, to be let alone to change his resolution. They avowed their die." willingness again to undergo the toils and privations of emigration, and if necessary prepare for a new home in the wilderness. But prayers and entreaties were alike in vain. To every argument Martin Brown gave the same answer in a calm and sad

S the private Secretary, made another visit to the Green Heart Grove, and the

beautiful Emma is now the wife of an eminent lawyer, and a "bright particular star" of fashion's sphere at Galveston.

Martin died at last in peace, and was buried in his beloved grove, (at his special request,) in a most fantastic manner-standing erect, in a full hunter's costume; with his hand raised towards heaven and his loaded rifle on his left shoulder.

"Or those great principles of duty, which are the foundations of all domestic, individual and public morals-family rights and obligations-which one has not been publicly scorned, and is not habitually disregarded? The reverential obedience of children to pa rents, is a dim recollection of a less enlightened age: the sanctity of the marriage tie is obliterated in the advocacy of the freedom of divorce, and the assertion of the chimerical rights of women. Respect for age, and veneration for the dead, promise no returns for our outlays, and are therefore cashiered as sentiments unworthy of our intellectual advancement. These cankers of our cos

"It is true," he said, "I was in the Pen-metic tranquility have eaten their way into itentiary of Kentucky; but I was in the the very heart of society, which is thus left Legislature before I was in the State Prison, without the regulating influence of the vital and while a member of the Senate opposed principle within: without the moral restraint with all my might the manufacture of so of unquestioned obligations: and is wholly many Banks. Those Banks soon afterwards given up to the fluctuating and factitious beggared thousands, among them me and guidance of transient expediences. How the my children. I was then tempted, in order hollowness and corruption of the age are ilto save my family, to perpetrate a forgery, lustrated by the demoralization of the vicious to do that on a small scale, which the State eras which have preceded it? The pages of and Banks had long been doing on a large Aristophanes and Thucydes, of Machiavell one. I paid the forfeit of my crime. While and Guicciardini, portray the rotteness of our the grand swindlers rolled in affluence, I present social system as clearly, and not less pined in a felon's dungeon. Having served truthfully, than the philcsophic expositions out my time, I resolved never again to com- of Combe, or the wild declamations of Carmit another wrong. I have kept my word, lyle."-Southern Lit. Messenger.

THE CELTIC RACE.

lent, though in no way equal to the Italian, and inferior, in some respects to the Slavonian and Peninsular races. The musical FROM the remotest period of historical narear of the race is tolerably good: in literarative-usually called history-the abode of the Celtic race was Gaul, on this side of the ture and science, they follow method and order, and go up uniformly to a principle; in Alps-the present country called France.— the ordinary affars of life they despise order This was the country Cæsar subdued and formed into a Roman province. But long economy, cleanliness; of to-morrow, they take no thought; regular labor-unremitprior to this time the Celtic race had overflowed its barriers, crossing the Alps, peo-hold in absolute horror and contempt. Irasting, steady, uniform, productive labor-they pling the north of Italy, and making permanent settlements there-the Gallia Cisalpina of Roman writers. They had sacked Rome,

they had burst into Greece, and plundered the Temple of Delphi. War and plunder,

cible, warm-hearted, full of deep sympathies, dreamers on the past, uncertain, treacherous, gallant and brave. They are not more courageous than other races, but they are more warlike.-Knox's Races of Men.

THE MELSTROM.

bloodshed and violence, in which the race delight, was their object. From Brennus to Napoleon, the war cry of the Celtic race was, "To the Alps-to the Rhine!" This game, which still engages their whole attention, has now been played for nearly four thousand years. I do not blame them: I pretend not to censure any race: I merely state facts, either quite obvious or borne out by history. War is the game for which the Celt is made. Herein is the forte of his physical and moral character; in stature and weight, as a race, inferior to the Saxon; limbs muscular and vigorous, torso and arms seldom attaining any very large development, hence the extreme rarity of athlete amongst the race; hands, broad; fingers, squared at the points; step, elastic and springy; in muscular energy and rapidity of action, surpassing all other European races. Caterius paribus -that is, weight for weight, age for age, stature for stature-the strongest of men.His natural weapon is the sword, which he ought never to have abandoned for any other. Jealous on the point of honor, his self-ings and bellowings in their fruitless attempts respect is extreme; admitting of no practical to disengage themselves. A bear once atjokes; an admirer of beauty of color and tempting to swim from Lofoden to Moskoe beauty of form, and therefore a liberal patron to prey upon the sheep in that Island, was of the fine arts. Inventive, imaginative, he caught by the stream and borne down, while leads the fashionable all over the civilized he roared so terribly as to be heard on shore. world. Most new inventions, etc., in the In the year 1645, the stream roared with arts, may be traced to him; they are then ap- such noise and impetuosity that on the island propriated by the Saxon race, who apply of Moskoe, the very stones of the houses them to useful purposes. His taste is excel-fell to the ground.

THE mælstrom is a cnrrent, or motion of the sea of Norway, the effects of which are no less singular than dangerous. Between Lofoden and Moskoe, the depth of water is between thirty-six and forty fathoms, when it is flood; the stream runs up the country with fearful rapidity, and the roar of its impetuous ebb towards the sea, is scarcely equalled by the loudest cataracts, the noise being heard several leagues off, and the vortex so powerful as to absorb every ship that comes within its attraction. It is then beaten to pieces against the bottom, and when the water is smoother, its fragments are thrown up again. But these intervals of tranquility happen only at the turn of the ebb and flow, and last but a quarter of an hour. Whales often come too near the stream, and are overpowered by its violence. It is then impossible to describe their howl

IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL.

THOU who deniest the immortality of the soul! Go stand before the everlasting hills, which have from the beginning of time bid defiance at once to the bolts of heaven and

which is to come.

single line of poetry; yet what towering vigor and swinging ease appeared all at once in "Glorious John." Milton had, indeed, written "Comus" at twenty-eight, but he was upwards of fifty when he began his great work. Cowper knew not his own might till he was far beyond thirty, and his “Task” was not written till about his fiftieth year.Sir Walter Scott was also upwards of thirty before he published his "Minstrelsy," and all his greatness was yet to come.

WONDERFUL DISCOVERY.

THE Fairmount (Va) True Virginian,

says:

the storms of earth, and be rebuked. Go look upon thy dying fellow-see him writhing under the death sting of a guilty conscience-gaze with him through the lurid rifts of his dissipating unbelief, while the dark reflections of the flame flickers upon his distorted features-flame of that fire which shall burn without quenching--and be admonished. Go look with the failing good man, about whose ears this earthly house is falling, through the telescope of We are informed by Col. Haymond and faith; far beyond, the clouds of darkness of others, that a portion of a regularly Macadthis life, he sees the fixed stars of a higher amized road has been discovered on the op› . heaven, and the brightness and splendor posite side of the river from this place.— Go witness the last end We have not seen it ourselves, but learn it of that man, and be converted. Go kneel extends pretty much along the bank of the with the rejected-who came to seek and river. It is about fifteen feet in width, and to save that which was lost- -as drop by drop the track well graded. The bed of stone he pays the sum of blood, without which seems to be about two inches thick, and there is no emission--go stand by his reek-made precisely after the plan of our Macing cross, till his last breath wafts the news adamized roads, the stone being broken to to earth that "it is finished," and be com- about the same size as that used for our forted. Then shalt thou no more doubt the roads. The discovery was made by washimmortality of thy soul. ing away of a hill-side which partially cov ered the road. When and by what race of people this road was made is unknown at the present day, but it gives evidence of the existence of a population here at some forCHATTERTON Wrote all his beautiful things, mer age of the world, as far advanced in civexhausted all his hopes of life, and saw no-ilization, or at least in the art of road makthing better than death, at the age of eighting, as ourselves. There was found in the een. Burns and Byron died in their thirty-bed of the road the stump of a chestnut seventh year, and, doubtless, the strength of tree, which was ascertained to be 150 years their genius was over. Raffaelle, after fill-old at least, and how much older, our ining the world with divine beauty, perished formant could not tell, as the stump was also at thirty-seven; Mozart earlier. These might have produced still greater works.— On the other hand, Haudel was forty-eight before he gave the world "assurance of a man.". Dryden came up to London from the provinces, dressed in Norwich drugget, somewhat above the age of thirty, and did, not even then know that he could write a

DEVELOPMENT OF INTELLECT.

hollow."

A SAFE INVESTMENT.-Dr. Franklin,speaking of education says, "If a man empties his purse into his head, no man can take it away from him. An investment in knowledge always pays the best interest."