Intelligence, worth and virtue, were offered up at the altar of this modern moloch, a rich sacrifice, that should have been given in a more useful and holy cause.

What pale and agitated form is that, which so hastily approaches the fatal spot? And what more slender and beautiful one is that, following in its rear? They are the mother and sister of Robert. Why so much uneasiness and anxiety depicted in their countenances? They have heard that Robert was about to fight and they have come in pursuit of him. Hark! hearest thou that long deep wail of sorrow? See'st thou those passionate exhibitions of anguish? They had heard the woful tidings-they have seen the dreadful sight. Ah, mother! ah sister! you are too late. He has gone. Your prop, your comfort, your hope is no more. Bereft of your greatest earthly solace, you must go down to the tomb, with a heavy burden of distress, upon your hearts.

Most deeply, did the community sympathize with the mother and sister of the unfortunate youth. But they found that no consolation, no solace could restore their lost joys. Secluded from the world, they spent their few remaining days in the service of God, and when the last summons came, they without a regret, laid down their lives, in hope of a blessed resurrection.

in his eye. He spoke a few words to the assembly-reverting to his pious parentage-his early youth unstained by crime-unshaded by remorse, until his commission of that deed, which deprived Robert of life and himself of peace and virtue-a deed, that dethroned conscience and opened the flood-gate of profligacy and crime. As he drew near the close of his address, he manifested some feeling. His voice before full-toned, became feeble and indistinct. What was his last expression? "Never be a Duellist." When the world was fading in the dim-distance and the solemnities of Eternity, in all their terrific reality, were rising bofore his vision, then, did he beseech listening thousands to discourage and put down the practice of duelling. Death is the sure test of opinion, as well as principle and in this instance, it was very apparent, that a long cherished idea could not bear the touch stone. Gustavas-the once lofty unbending Gustavas underwent a change ere he stepped off the stage of existence. His last feelings were feelings of repentance-his last breath, devoted to making the world acquainted with them.

When he had closed, the halter was placed around his neck, and in a few moments, his appearance told every spectator, that another soul had departed into the unseen world.

Will you, beloved reader, remember the last advice of the unhappy Gustavas? If you would escape the untold horrors of self-recrimination-if you would secure the favor of God, and the approval of the pious-" Never be a Duellist." If there be any thing dear in family connexions-if your soul entertains any regard for the mother, that hung over the cradle of your infancy-if you have a particle of regard for the father, who delighted to look upon you-if sisters and brothers be sweet— if love has any charms or friendship any attractions— "Never be a Duellist." Believe me, you will not re

What became of Miss B-? She did not long survive her friend and lover. With true female fortitude, she, for a while, supported herself, but her spirit, in the end, lost its elasticity and sunk beneath severe pressure. In a conspicuous place, Robert was interred. A plain monument, erected by the inhabitants of the vicinity, told the stranger his name, character and family, while in hearts of his numerous acquaintance, his memory was enshrined and his name written. Oft did the aged lead the rising generation to the grave of Robert, and as their hands dressed the flowers that shed their fragrance around the spot, their voices would repeat and enforce the lesson of Robert's expiring father-" Never fight a||pent the pursuance of this direction, while you live, and

duel!"

Years had fled since the untimely fall of the lamented Robert, when, called by business, I again visited the western part of Virginia.

Stopping for rest, in a small town, I was induced by curiosity to go to the court, then sitting in the place. I soon perceived that a case of unusual interest was under consideration. On turning my eyes towards the bar, what was my surprise, when I recognised in the prisoner, Gustavas -! In the progress of the trial, I found that he had been arraigned for murder. Having lost all his property by gambling, he had committed murder, in order to replenish his exhausted means. Eloquent efforts were made to clear him but in vain. The verdict was " guilty."

Upon my return to the country, I learned that the time for Gustavas' execution was not far distant. Desirous to witness his last moments, I remained until the awful period came. I saw the massy gates of the prison yard open, and ere their grating sound had died away, I beheld the train proceeding towards the place of execution. The mournful procession reached the spot and Gustavas ascended the scaffold. His firm features were unrelaxed. There was not a quiver on his lip nor a tear

Translated from the French.

"Ah! good day, my dear alchymist! you look very much like Claude Frollo or Nicholas Flamel, seeking the philosopher's stone!"

The noise of these exclamations, seemed to arouse Mr. Saint Leger, who occupied before a chemical apparatus, had neither heard the tumult made by his boisterous visitor in opening the door or the fracas of broken vases thrown down by his precipitation.

"My faith," continued the speaker, "I find you always the same-let me beg you, to leave these therapentic, pharmacotic and chemic occupations, at our age, life has still some pleasure. Ah, I little thought, when I bade you adieu a fortnight ago, that I should see you again to day; but it is a romantic adventure which brings me back, divine chivalric. Come, come, leave that air of an angry Mentor and listen.”

Mr. Saint Leger, said nothing but listened with pleased astonishment, to the rattle of his friend, Mr. de Lorcelles, his old college companion, now rivalling the young lieutenants and pretending to be the lovelau of the garrison. At length they were both seated, and Mr. St. Leger, whilst he listened, did not turn his eyes from a little furnace upon which was placed a crucible.

It was, however, de Lorcelles who the next morning received the visit of Saint Leger. What was his astonishment, to see the irresistible seducer bolstered up, and enveloped in bandages. To satisfy the curiosity of

Saint Leger, de Lorcelles commenced the narration of his present equipment.

"It was three o'clock in the morning, and I began to despair of seeing Alice, when I felt some one strike me on the shoulder, an immense domino made signs for me to follow him-I obeyed. My guide stopped before the door of a box, he struck lightly, thrice, and I found myself alone, in the presence of my charming Alice. 'It is well,' said she, 'you are a man of your word. I

After a few moments silence Mr. de Lorcelles, began with the tone of a deputy, who is making his debut at the tribune-" When I arrived at Lesle, I met at a ball a charming little woman, whom I had before noticed with the wife of the prefect, she was enchanting and all our dandies, civil and military were fluttering around her. I could only obtain one cotillion during the even-have but a few moments to give to you, and I wish in the ing. It mattered not, I obtained two at the next ball, first place to receive from you a great proof of confiand she appeared to listen to me with pleasure, also ob- dence.' served her looks were often turned towards me. At last at the third ball, I was madly in love and almost certain I had pleased her, I hazarded a declaration. She replied by a burst of laughter.

You are truly unfortunate,' said Alice, 'here are fifty charming women, whom you might adore all winter, and I depart to-morrow' I was stupified. But,' she continued, 'do not be disconsolate, I am the last woman in the world to comprehend an attachment-I believe in nothing for I have made all the hearts I have conquered endure such severe proofs, that not one could stand them. You now see, sir, that nothing remains but to thank me for having broken off with good will,' and she laughed again most charmingly.

"I replied, I love you, I adore you, speak, command, I swear to shrink from nothing.-An incredulous smile hovered over the beautiful lips of Alice. I repented my Tows, when she arose with a careless air, without allowing me to finish one of my finest sentiments and said to||

me,

'Well, well, meet me then at the ball of the Operahouse, next Saturday—until then, I forbid you to follow me or make the least inquiry after me, or all is at an end.'

"The colonel refused me leave of absence-zounds, it was just, however, as I had only been returned ten days, from a six months' furlough, so I feigned sickness-the surgeon ordered me to keep my room, and forbad me from seeing any one. That evening, I was on the road to Paris-and now I have arrived, ready to pursue the most piquant adventure, that any one ever had."

"At least take a few moments repose," said Saint Leger, "such follies wont do at our age-in truth, I think you are taken by a little coquette, who will lead you Heaven knows where."

"Come, come," said de Lorcelles-"I am more active, more sprightly than I was when twenty years old. I will run off to Humann, to make me a costume of the most refined dandyism. Thanks to one of Josselin's corsets, I anf as slender as a brevet lieutenant of HusThis evening then, and to-morrow after the ball, I will come and breakfast with you-unless

sars.

Mr. Saint Leger smiled, shrugged his shoulders, as he saw his companion depart. He resumed the course of his experiments and shut himself in his laboratory.

"Speak, speak, I cried-I have promised to shrink from nothing. Let me know what it is

She drew from her pocket an elegant port-folio of mother-of-pearl, she took from it a blank sheet of paper folded twice, she opened a small gold inkstand, which enclosed a pen. 'You must place your signature in the corner of this paper.' I hesitated. 'What,' she exclaimed, presenting me the pen,' you shrink already.' signed-' It is well,' she said 'you shall hear from me to-morrow morning at ten o'clock.' She extended one of her pretty little hands to me, which I kissed with transport. She coughed slightly, the door opened, the great black domino appeared, and Alice took his arm. I endeavored to retain her, but she threw her boquet toward me, and turning around said-To-morrow, tomorrow, at ten, you will receive the reward of your noble confidence.'

"I attempted to fellow her. When I arrived at the vestibule, I perceived her getting into a carriage, and wishing to approach the spot, I sprang along the steps, in such a manner, that in an instant, I found myself transported from the vestibule of the Opera-house, to the middle of the brook in the street Lepelletiez-surrounded by prancing horses and rolling carriages. Happily, Tom drew me out and thus it is you see me wrapped up like an invalid. It will be impossible to present myself before Alice, and my suit of clothes which fitted so well!" He pointed to an unshaped mass in the corner of the room.

"A beautiful crystallisation of mud," said Saint Leger.

Tom entered just then, and handed to Mr. de Lorcelles, a small rose colored, perfumed note, on embossed paper. He snatched it with vivacity, but his bandages prevented him from seeing. He begged his friend to read it to him.

SIR,-The most devoted friendship, has united me from childhood to Celenie de Lorcelles, with whom I was educated at a boarding-school. I have been married eighteen months, and have ever preserved for my dear Celenie, the feelings of a sister. I knew you had, for a long time, opposed her marriage with Mr. Villifroi—I knew, also, that you were in the wrong. I resolved to assist my friend. However, I did not act rashly, I begged my husband, to watch most scrupulously the man whom Celenie loved so well. I learned that Mr. Villifroi, was a lawyer of eminence, and belonged to an excellent family. I then decided to employ a trick. You came yourself and spared me the trouble of seeking you. Your child is at my house, and I showed her your consent, which you signed, at the ball of the Opera. Come quickly, sir, they do not comprehend this enigma which I

Original.

NAPOLEON'S LAST REVIEW.

BY JOSEPH PRICE.

It was the thirteenth Sunday of the year 1813, and on the following Tuesday the Emperor was to leave his capital for that fatal campaign, in the course of which he was destined to lose Bessiéres and Duroc, the faithful and the loved; to stand as conqueror on the memorable fields of Lutzen and Bautzen; and finally to witness the treachery of Austria, Saxony, Bavaria and Bernadotte. A feeling almost of sadness had brought to the Tuilleries a large proportion of the gay and brilliant population of Paris. Each seemed to have a presage of what the future had in store; and every imagination appeared to be conscious, that more than once hereafter it would have to retrace the mysterious associations of this scene, when the heroic days of France should be no more than the glories of fable and of song.

The magnificent parade at which the Emperor Napoleon was about to command in person, was to be the last of those military displays which had, for so long a period, excited the admiration of the Parisians and foreigners. It was for the last time that the Old Guard would execute those intricate and majestic manœuvres whose pomp and precision sometimes astonished the giant of battles himself, then preparing for his duel with Europe.

“Let us go faster, father," observed a young lady, as she hurried on an old gentleman, "I hear the drums." "It is only some troops who are arriving," said he. "Or rather some who are returning. See, every body is coming from the chateau!"

"The parade does not commence until half past twelve," remarked the old gentleman, as he slowly followed his impatient daughter.

To watch the movement of the young lady's right-arm, you would have said that she added to her swiftness by it; and her little hand, covered with a yellow glove, and holding a handkerchief half unfolded, bore no unapt resemblance to the oar of a bark as it cuts through the

waters.

When the father and daughter reached the peristyle of the pavilion on whose summit floated the tri-colored flag, and beneath which passed the current of promenaders and spectators who were desirous of getting into the court-yard from the garden of the Tuilleries, the sentinels called to them in their measured tones, "You cannot pass."

The young girl, standing on tip-toe, perceived a crowd of splendid ladies in full dress, attended by their cavaliers, filling up both sides of the old marble arcade through which the Emperor must pass to descend the grand stair-case of the Tuilleries.

"You see, father," she said, we left home too late. It is all your fault." And she made a gesture of regret and impatience which proved the extreme importance she had attached to witnessing the review.

"Let us stay, father. I shall be able to see the Emperor from this place. Were he to fall during the campaign I should not be able to say hereafter, that I had seen him!"

Her father trembled as he listened to her. Her eyes were filled with tears, and her voice was agitated; he saw that her eye-lids with difficulty contained the pearly drops which some secret chagrin connected with her disappointment had evidently caused.

All at once her eyes sparkled through their moisture; she blushed deeply, and uttered an exclamation whose import escaped both her father and the sentinels. At her voice, like the shrill scream of a frightened bird, an officer, who had darted from the court to the stair-case, up which he had already leaped six steps, suddenly started back, and hurried to the arcade on the garden side; there he recognized the young lady, who was almost hidden by the large bear-skin caps of the grenadiers. He instantly broke through the watchword, which he had himself given; and, without taking any notice of the audible and undisguised grumbling of the polished and elegant crowd which besieged the arcade, he gently drew onward the enraptured girl.

"I am not at all surprised at her regret and anxiety, since you were to be on service to-day," said the old gentleman to the officer, with a half-serious and halfsportive air.

"If you want to procure a good position, sir," said the young man, "we had better not amuse ourselves with joking. The Emperor does not like to be kept waiting, and I am now on an errand from him to the Maréchal to that effect."

assem

While he spoke, he had taken Julia's arm with a sort of familiarity, and led her hastily to the Carrousel. Julia remarked with wonder the immense blage which was closely jammed in the narrow space comprised between the grey walls of the palace, and the stone posts joined together by chains which mark out the sanded partitions of the court-yard of the Tuilleries. This border of males and females resembled a garden plot enamelled with flowers. The string of sentinels posted to keep a free passage for the Emperor and staff had much difficulty in not being broken in upon by the eager crowd, which murmured and buzzed like the swarms of a hive in spring.

"Will it be very beautiful ?" asked Julia, smiling.

"For Heaven's sake, take care!" cried the officer, as seizing her by the waist, he lifted her with equal strength and rapidity, and placed her against a marble pillar.

Without this sudden removal, the inquisitive girl would have been crushed by the haunch of a superb white charger, caparisoned with a saddle of green-velvet and gold, held by the bridle by Napoleon's mameluke, just under the arcade, and about ten paces in the rear of all the horses of the grand officers' of state, by whom the Emperor was to be accompanied.

It was close to the first post on the right, and in the front of the crowd, that their military friend stationed the old gentleman and his daughter, recommending

"Well, Julia, we had better retire-you do not like them by a significant gesture to the care of the two to be squeezed, and—”

veteran grenadiers between whom they were standing.

As the officer retired an air of happiness and content-square masses of these troops speckled with silver, ment had chased from his features the terror impressed azure, purple and gold, the curious might discern the upon them by the curvetting of the steed; for Julia had tri-colored banderoles of six indefatigable Polish Lanpressed his hand mysteriously, either to thank him for|cers, who, like the dogs that regulate the march of a the service he had rendered them, or to whisper to him: herd of cattle in the plains, flew incessantly between the "At least, I shall see you again." She bent her head troops and the Parisians, to prevent the latter from graciously as she responded to the respectful obeisance overstepping the boundaries allotted to them at the imwhich the officer made to herself and her father, as he perial railing. With the exception of these movements, disappeared from their presence with lightning haste. you might have fancied yourself in the enchanted palace "How beautiful it is!" said Julia, in a low voice, as of the Sleeping Beauty in the wood. she pressed her father's hand.

The breezes of spring, sweeping over the long-haired caps of the grenadiers, showed the fixed and steady attitude of the wearers, in the same way as the buzzing of the crowd contrasted with the deep silence of the ranks. Only, ever and anon, the flapping of the brass cheekpiece of a helmet, or a horse pawing the ground, was

The picturesque and absorbing aspect which the Carrousel presented at that moment provoked the same exclamation from thousands of spectators whose faces were radiant with delight and admiration. Another mass of people, as closely packed as that where Julia and her father were standing, occupied in a line paral-reiterated by the echoes of the imperial palace, like the lel with the palace, the narrow pavement on the outside distant claps of thunder which announce the approachof the iron-railing which separates the court-yard ing storm. from the Carrousel. This crowd, by the variety of its female costumes, agreeably relieved the magnitude of the immense enclosure formed by the buildings of the Tuilleries, and bounded by the iron-railing then recently || erected.

There was an indescribable enthusiasm in the eager expectation of the multitude. France was about to bid her adieus to Napoleon, on the eve of a campaign, whose dangers could be foreseen by the humblest of its citizens. And, this time, the "to be or not to be" of the French empire was at stake.

By this feeling the city population were animated, and the same influence was felt by those armed and resplendent myriads, who stood so silently in the thronged enclosure, over which sailed the eagle and the star of Na

These soldiers, the hope of France; these soldiers, the last drop of its blood, were an object of the deepest interest to the spectators. Between the greater part of these latter and the ranks, eternal farewells were about to be uttered; but every heart, even those most hostile to the Emperor, addressed ardent and earnest prayers to heaven for the glory of the country. Those men who were alarmed and disgusted at the war which had commenced between combined Europe and France, had flung away their dislike as they passed under the triumphal arch, and admitted that, in the hour of danger France and Napoleon were identical.

It was in this vast square that the regiment of the Old Guard stood in martial array to be passed in review. They presented, in front of the palace, imposing lines of blue, twenty ranks deep. Beyond the Carrousel, in other parallel lines, a dozen regiments of cavalry and infantry were stationed, ready at the first signal to ma-poleon. nœuvre so as to pass through the triumphal arch which ornaments the centre of the railing, and on whose summit were then seen the magnificent Venetian horses. The music of each regiment was placed on either side of the gallery of the Louvre, and the two military orchestras were masked by the Polish Lancers who kept the ground. A large portion of the sanded court-yard was left unoccupied as an arena prepared for the movements of these motionless and silent bodies. These masses were disposed with all the symmetry of military science, and the rays of the sun were reflected back from the triangular rays of twenty-five thousand flashing bayonets. The breeze agitated the soldiers' plumes, or made them wave like the foliage of the forest when a high wind is riding through it. These veteran bands, so still and brilliant, offered a thousand contrasts of color in the difference of uniforms, decorations, arms and aiguillettes. This immense picture, the miniature of a field of battle before the combat, was admirably enframed, with all its accessories and picturesque groupings, by those lofty and majestic buildings, whose compact and motionless grandeur and solidity, seemed to be imitated at this moment by both chief and soldier. The spectator involuntarily compared the walls of men with the walls of stone.

The young sun of spring illuminated with its capricious and flickering rays the eternal walls of stone, and the countless bronzed countenances, every one of which told a story of perils past, and dangers overcome. The Colonels of each regiment alone rode backwards before the lines formed by these heroic men; but behind the

The great clock of the palace sounded the half-hour after noon. At this instant the noise of the crowd ceased, and the silence became so absolute that the wail of an infant could have been heard. It was then that the old gentleman and his daughter, who seemed to be all eyes, distinguished a jingling of spurs, and a peculiar rattling of swords, under the echoing peristyle of the chateau.

A little man, in green uniform, with white breeches, and boots which rose above his knees, came forth alone, having on his head a three-cornered hat, as wizard-like as the wearer. The large red-riband of the Legion of Honor floated across his chest; and a small sword was at his side. He was perceived by every person in the crowd and from all points, at the same moment.

At the sight of him, the drums beat their loudest peal, and the music burst forth with a note, whose warlike strain was swelled by every instrument, from the deepest kettle-drum to the softest and sweetest flute. Each