Ifir-frlr
SI
II J I
11 it i iii iii i a
li r f i I
IV II I
AM
BY JOHN G. GIVEN.
IYT I t OSLL ANE O US
SCSNES IN
THE LIFE OF AN EMPRESS.
BY K.Z3. a. T. MARTYN.
"Femie, what news from port to-day?
Has Le V ainqueur yet arrived ?
The faithful creature thus addressed,
answered slowly and with evident reluc
tance: No, Missy, de big ship neber come
when Missy want him, and de little ship
bring only rum and hackee. Bat keep up
heart. Missy, de good news is long a
oming, but de bad news fly berry fast."
There was a deeper shade of sadness
on the brow of the first speaker, as she
sank languidly, among the pillows of the
sofa on which the was reclining, and
throwing aside the book slse had been
reading,, gave herself up to melancholy
reverie. And yet sadness seemed by no
means the natural expression of that
charming countenance, in which, as in an
open volume, all gentle thoughts and wo
manly affections were written. The fea
tures were small and finely modelled, the
profile inclining to Grecian, but without
any statue-like coldness of outline. The
eye of deepest, darkest blue, so full of
brilliancy and feeling when fully turned
on any one, were usually half concealed
beneath their long and silken lashes. Her
hair of "glossy chesnut brown," harmon
ized delightfully with a clear and transpa
rent complexion, and a neck of dazzling
whiteness. Her eyebrows were a shade
darker, regularly arched, and pencilled
with extreme delicacy. To this were
adced a faultless symmetry of person,
and a lightness and elasticity of move
ment, which imparted something almost
aerial to her perfectly graceful carriage.
Such was Josephine de Beauharnais,
when still in early womanhood, she re
turned from France to her native isle to
eek refuge from sorrow amid the scenes
and friends of her childhood. She had
sailed from its shores a few short years
previous, a young and happy bride, about
to visit with her heart's chosen, the beau
tiful land of his nativity, and of her own
brightest dav dreams she had come back
to her home, a solitary wanderer, witn a
heart chilled by the conviction that he on
whom she had lavished her wealth of af
fection was unworthy of the precious
boon. He had exhausted even her patient
love by his excessive profligacy and ha
bitual neglect, and with her two children
she had departed for Martinico, leaving
him still 'in Paris. But though far distant,
that unworthy husband was still fondly
remembered,' and she clung to the hope
that every vessel might bring the blessed
tidings of his return to virtue, or possibly
the guilty but beloved prodigal once more
to his peaceful home. But month after
month flew by, and still no news came
from Ia belle France," to gladden the
heart of the deserted wife, "lie has for
gotten me," was her bitter reflection,
"amid the gaiety and dissipation of the
great city, no thought of wife or children
can find entrance. Unkind ! could aught
on earth banish him even for one moment
from my memory V Absorbed in thought,
the youthful mother was unconscious
-even of the presence of her children, until
the sound of their voices in eager dispute,
which the faithful Femie in vain endea
vored to soothe, roused her from her reve
rie. "What is the meaning of this ?" she
enquired with surprise, as she eaw the
flushed cheek and sparkling eye of her
eon. "Your sister is in tears, my dear
Eugene, why have you grived her?" The
spirited boy answered promptly, "Mam
ma, we have only been playing at the
game of king and queen, and 1 made you
a queen, but Hortense said you should
not be crowned, for that queens were not
. .
always happy, but l ueiermineu you
should be my queen; and mamma, so you
shall be a queen, in spite of all the silly
girls or old women in the world." Jose
phine gazed with maternal pride and
fondness on the beautiful boy who stood
before her, like a young Antinous, his
breast heaving, and his countenance glow
ing with strong emotion, but his words
had touched some hidden spring of feeling
within her breast for her rich voice trem
bled like the Eolian harp when the wind
sweeps over its strings, as she drew her
daughter to her arms, and tenderly kissing
her cheek, exclaimed "So, ma mignonne,
you are unwilling to have vour mother
become a queen! Content yourself, dar
ling, there is little probability of such an
event; though," she added more gravely,
turning toward Femie, who, as her foster
eister, was her confidential attendant; "it
is singular that the childish fancy of this
boy should bring so vividly to my mind a
prediction uttered long ago by an aged
ybil with whom I accidentally met, when
in company with a party of young associ
ates.' Feroies dark eyes expressed
wonder and curiosity, but she had not
lime to speak when Eugene exclaimed,
"Oil, dearest mamma, tell us what she
said, for if she promised you an' thing
good, 1 am sure it will come to pass.
"These were her words,' she answered,
"I remember them as though they were
spoken yesterday. You will be married,
but your union will not be happy, you
will become a widow, and then you will
be Queen of France. Some happy years
will be yours, but you will die in a hos
pital, amid civil commotions. But, my
little llortciise, dry your tears it is quite
unlikely that your poor mother should
ever wear any other crown but this beau
tiful one of myrtle and jessamine which
Eugene has so tastefully woven for her."
As she spoke, she placed the ligiil coronet
above her shining ringlets, and seating
herself on a low tabouret, called on her
subjects to come and render homage at her
feet. It was a charming tableau that
beautiful mother with her happy children
looking like the embodied spirits of love
and joy, while in the back ground, their
sable attendant stood gazing on the group
with a countenance in which pride and
a fleet ion were expressed in every feature.
"Young Missy an angel," she murmured
to hersell "no need to be a queen that
not good enough for her.
The strong
attaenment excited by this distinguished
woman in all her dependants, formed one
of the most remarkable features of her
history, and this attachment was felt in its
lull force by Femie, who followed the
changing fortunes of her mistress, with a
fidelity which death alone could destroy.
A few short years after the scene we have
described, Josephine tie Beauharr.ais, then
a youthful widow, was confined in one of
the loathsome prisons of Paris, hourly
expecting her summons to the scallold on
which the best blood of France had alrea
dy flowed, and from which she was saved
only by the death of the tyrant whose
crimes had so long been calling aloud to
heaven lor vengeance. Did she never, in
ihoae hours of dread and horror, remem-
( ber with regret, the tropic isle, in whose
' fragrant bowers she had lasted such pure
and tranquil happiness t
It was mid-day, and in one of the
splendid cathedrals of Paris, an immense
crowd had assembled to witness a specta
cle the most gorgeous and imposing that
human skill and ingenuity could devise.
A temporary covered gallery, hung with
the banuers of sixteen cohorts of the Le
gion of Honor, conducted from the archie
piscopal palace to the interior of the cathe
dral, which was crowded to overflowing
with the beauty and chivalry of France.
More than three hundred vocal perform
ers, with a martial band still more numer
ous, filled every corner of the vast edifice
with a swelling tide of harmony, while
the glittering display of military uniforms
worn by the officers of the grand army,
the waving of plumes and the flashing of
diamonds, rendered the scene brilliant
beyond description. But brave men and
fair women rank, wealth, splendor, and
military fame, were all forgotten in one
absorbing object of attention. Every eye
was riveted on the wonderful man who
by the force of his own genius, had raised
himself from obscurity to the summit of
earthly greatness. An ascent of twenty
two steps, covered with blue cloth, gemmed
with golden bees, led to the throne, where
under a canopy of crimson velvet, appear
ed Napoleon, attended by his two broth
ers, with the grand oflicers of the empire.
His close dress was of white velvet, em
broidered in gold with diamond buttons
his upper garment and short mantle of
crimson velvet, richly embroidered in
gold with diamond fastenings. The im
perial crown, a simple diadem of gold
wrought into a chaplet of interwoven oak
. i
and laurel, lay on a cushion before him,
and oil his left, arrayed in robes of regal
magnificence, and pale with deep but sup
pressed emotion, sat Josephine de Beau
harnair. now the wedded wife of Napoleon
Bonoparte. The prediction was accom
plished, her destiny fulfilled, and the sim
ple Creole girl, the deserted wife, the
prisoner of the Conciergerie, was about to
be crowned Empress of France. II er
dress was "of white satin embroidered in
gold, and on the breast ornamented with
diamonds. The mantle was of crimson
velvet, lined with while satin and ermine,
studded with golden bees, and confired
by an aigrette of diamonds. The diadem,
worn before the coronation, and on ordi
nary state occasions, wascom'posed of four
rows of pearls of the finest water, inter
laced with foliage of diamonds, the work
manship, exceeded only by the materials;
in front were several brilliants, the largest
weighing one hundred and forty-nine
grains. The ceinture was of gold so pure
as to be quite elastic, enriched with thirty
nine rose-colored diamonds." What a
change, since the time when, as she loved
to relate to her circle of ladies, she carried
the presents of jewelry received from her
'WE GO WHERE DEMOCRATIC PRINCIPLES rOINT THE WAY I WHEX THEV CEASE TO LEAD, WE CEASE TO
E BENS BURG, THURSDAY,
first husband, in the large pockets then
worn, displaying them on all occasions,
thus exciting the admiration of all her
friends !
After the ceremony of placing the crown
upon his own head was concluded. Napo
leon took that destined for the empress.,
and after putting it for an instant upon his
own, placed it on the brow of Josephine,
who knell before him on the platform of
his throne. "The appearance of Jose
phine at this moment," savs a historian,
"was most touching. Even then she had
not forgotten that she was once an obscure
woman tears of deep emotion fell from
her eyes she remained for a space kneel
ing, with hands folded on her bosom, then
slowly and gracefully rising, fixed upon
husband a look of gratitude and tender
ness. Napoleon returned the glance. It
was a silent but conscious interchange of
thft hopes, the promises, and the memo
ries of ears!"
In the exalted station to which she was
thus raised, the Empress of France, re
tained the singleness of heart, warmth of
affection, and disinterested generosity for
which she had before been distinguished.
The power and influence she possessed,
were valued only as means of diffusing
happiness more widely, and never did sor
I row or misfortune go from the presence of
j "the good Josephine," uncheered or un
! aided by her munificent kindness. As a
I wife and mother, her devotion to the inter-
ests and happiness of her husband and
children knew no bounds and as mistress
! she was beloved almost to idolatry by her
j dependants.
I 'Her very failings loaned to vii tue's side,"
; for the piofuse expenditures of which she
! has been accused, was caused chiefly by
a ocncvoience wnicn exceciiea the limits
of prudence. Throughout all France, the
; name oi the empress was coupled with
' blessings, for there was hardly a family
; into which her active kindness had not
penetrated, carrying succor and consola
I tion in time of heed. Of her, asPhilippa
J of England.it might truly be said 'while
.Napoleon subdued kingdoms, Josephine
conquered hearts." Even in his darkest
and stormiest moods, the Emperor con
fessed the power of that finely modulated
voice, whose very eadence was melody,
and her glance of winning tenderness, often
charmed him from his purpose, and shel-
( tered the unfortunate from the consequen
ces of his wrath.
Thus loving and beloved the honored
consort of the greatest man of his times
the pride and ornamentof the gayest court
of Europe; the fight of every eye, and
theme of every tongue in her beautiful
father-land, the four years of Josephine's
life as Empress glided rapidly away.
Even then, however, she forgot not the
past, and looked forward to the future with
forebodings too fataily realized.
There
was weeping
and
consternation
it the splendid apartments of Malmaison,
1 for the gentle mistress who had presided
in its walls, and whose smile made the
sunshine of its inmates, was lying on the
bed of death. An insiduous disease had
been for days prostrating her svstem, but
I with the foretfulness of self which mark-
! ed her character, she would not suffer the
usual routine of employments and amuse
ments to be interrupted, until the violence
of her disorded had prostrated her to rise
no more. All that skill and affection
could devise to prolong a life so precious,
was tried in vain; the mandate had gone
forth, and nothing could arrest the ap-
I proach of the king of terrors. But it was ;
j not the flattered and envied empress of!
i-uiitc nidi i.icie awautu iu coiuing. A
: repudiated wile, and an extied queen, Jo-
senine nau learned by outer experience,
the vanity and uncertainty of earthly gran
deur. She had been compelled by a
course of tfireats, entreaties, arguments
and commands on the part of him to whose
wishes her happiness was ever sacrificed
to sign with her own hand, an act of sep
aration from the husband so ardently be
loved, so tenderly regretted. She had re
tired from the glittering "circle of which
she was the centre and the chief ornament
and in the comparative solitude of Mal-
i maison, had listened to the thunders of
artillery which proclaimed the union of
Napoleon with her rival, Maria Louisa of
Austria.
Through the long agony that preceded
the final separation, and the still more try
ing scenes that followed it, not one word
of murmuring or reproach was heard from
Josephine "e has willed it, the inter
ests of the French nation require the sac
rifice I have only to obey," was her in
variable answer to the indignant remon
strances of the few who dared to oppose
the will of the Empeior. Once only, af
ter listening long in silence . to the argu
ments of her husband, she started up with
sudden energy, drew Napoleon to the
window, and pointing to the heavens, said
in a firm but melancholly tone "Bona
parte, behold that bright star it is mine!
NOVEMBER 14, 1850.
and remember, to mine, not to thine, has
sovereignty been promised. Separate, then
our fates, and your elar fades!" How
truly, and how soon, were those prophetic
words fulfilled! The heroic resignation of
Josephine, however, concealed from pub
lic view, a crushed and bleeding heart.
The devoted friends who composed her
little court at Malmaison and Navarre,
well knew that while ministering in every
possible way to their happinoss and a
musement, her thougths and afieciion3
were far away, hovering over those belov
ed ones whose welfare was dearer to her
than her own.
Just before leaving Paris for his disas
trous campaign in Russia, Napoleon visi
ted the illustrious recluse of Malmaison,
and was received by her in the garden
which her taste had converted into a "wil
derness of sweets." The conversation
was aninated in the extreme, Josephine in
vain endeavoring to dissuade the emperor
from his purpose, while he, in turn, paint
ed in lively colors the certainty of success
anu tne Driuiani results oi me etuerprize.
. i i -if . l. f . i
How much I
regret my inability to do
inw in ifr tip inni mrrmi jip i inn Pin i
! was the exclamation of Josephine, as she
returneu to me nouse aner nis uepanure.
A few short months passed away, and his
1 . . 1 I XT. I .
misfortunes and downfall were proverb
throughout all Europe.
The affectionate heart of Josephine was
deeply afflicted by the sad reverses which
j followed the Kussian expedition, ana her
; health, always delicate, declined daily.
though she was still gentle, uncomplaining
and solicitous only for the comfort of those
about her. When the Allied Sovereigns
entered Paris, their first visit was paid at
Malmaison, and nothing could exceed the
respectful attention with which the wife
! of Bonaparte was treated by the kings who
had exiled her husband, and overthrown
the dynasty for which she had sacrificed
so much. The day previous to her death
she was visited by Alexander of Russia,
who found, on entering the chamber, her
daughter Hortense, Queen of Holland,
kneeling by the side of the couch on which
the sufferer lay, while her cherished Eu
gene, Viceroy of Italy, held the hand of
his dying mother, both so overwhelmed
with grief, as to be insensible to his ap
proach. Josephine alone retained all her
calmness and self-possession, and repeat
edly thanked Alexander for the kindness
she had experienced at his hands. She
then raised herself, desired all present to
approach the bed, and said quite audibly:
"I shall die regretted for I have always
desired the happiness of France, and have
done all in my power to contribute to it;
and I can say with truth to all here pres
ent at my last moments, that the first wife
of Napoleon never caused a single tear to
flow." These were her last words al
most immediately after, she fell into a
slumber, from which she awoke only in
eternity. Her remains were consigned to
: -he grave with pomp and magnificence,
and the long funeral procession was vu;
untarily closed by more than two thous
and poor, who had partaken of her boun
ty and cherished her memory. The spot
where she sleeps, is marked by a mouu-
ment of white marble, representing the
, - i . t -
empress kneeling in her coronation robes,
and bears the touching inscription
EUGENE AND HORTENSE TO JOSEPHINE.
Already, in little more than a quarter of
a century, the splendid laonc iapoieon
waded through oceans of blood and tears j
ini!.! ii n h-.c ,.mmMo,l nimc 1,5c!
to build up, has "crumbled to atoms, his
family is almost extinct, and his veryname
a sound foigotlcn in our midst. But the
talents and grace of Josephine her cn-
I deantiff gentleness and feminine virtues
w:n renjer her an oMcct of interest to th
rood, when the blood stained records of
j ambition, and the boasting annals of earth-
j ly grandeur shall alike be buried in obliv
ion. Lsady s IV reuth.
h New and Singular CIcclv.
We have seen and examined a
very sin
gular piece ot mechanism in the torm oi
a clock, or time piece, invented and man
ufactured by Dr. W. II. Slenson, practical
dentist It will keep the time of day, day
of the week, day of the month, and also
the name of the month. But the most pe-
j culiar feature is, it keeps the odd days of
the month, and also leapyear, and the odd
minutes of every moon, so that it never
requires setting. This we believe, has
never been done with any other tirne-piece
made in this country. The striking prop
erties are no less remarkable.
On either side of the temple is a door,
and at the hour for striking, the figure of
a Knight, fully equipped in his panoply,
walks out of one door, which immediately
closes again, on a semicircular area, and
when in front of the temble, lifts his hand
and strikes very distinctly the hour of the
day; he then resumes his circuit, and when
he approaches the other door it opens for
his ingress and then closes as soon as be
gets into the inner court. There are sev-
FOLLOW."
eral other unique mailers conneeted with
this ingenius piece of mechanism which
we cannot now notice.
Dr. S ten son never turned a piece of
brass or steel until his attempt atthis work,
lie planned, worked out its intricate com
binations without assistance, and has made
the whole of the structure with his own
hands mostly at night during the past
vear. Bait. Patriot.
LATER FR03 CALiFCEHl.
The steamship Empire City, Capt. J.
D. Wilson, from Chagres by way of Ja
maica, was signalized just below the quar
antine this morning, and arrived at her
dock about 11 o'clck.
She left Chagres on the 26th u!t., at 10
o'clock, A. and Kingston, Jamaica, on
the 29ih at 6 P. M .
By this arrival we have San Francisco
papers to the 5th of Oct., 20 days later
than our previous advices direct, and 18
days later than those received at New Or
leans by the Alabama, and of which we
, ,JH(j surnraarv throuu ,he medium
of the teieeraDh.
m i t
g
have
Fran-
I vct u-a from California nnr Sin
I - - -
csco papers bein
j yjj
only thirty-two days
The papers were receaved at so late an
hour that we have only leisure to make a
cursory examination cf our files. We give
below a full account of the fire at San
Francisco, of which have had a previous
notification by way of New Orleans.
The Fire.
Our San Francisco correspondent, in a
brief note written on the. 17th September,
the day of the fire, says:
"I have but a moment to inform vou
that San Francisco i? a.-ram aennrcrpd vt-ith
fire. The alarm was gTven at four o'clock
this morning, and notwithstanding
Lwithstandino- vianr-
ous tiioris were made to stop tne progress
of the flames, they were of little avail un
til 130 building were destroyed. The loss
exceeds three hundred thousand dollars.
Exaggerated estimates have been made of
the loss, but I think my figures will be
found correct. The fire proof walls of the
4Alta California, were an effectual bar in
strying the devastation.
"Of the Pacific News office, not a frag
ment remains. Types, books, presses,
paper all gone. The building in which
the Pieayune newspaper was printed is
also in ruins, but the materials of that off
ice were nearly all saved.
In great haste, J. A. L.
The Overland Immigration.
The papers contain the most deplorable
accounts of the condition of the overland
immigrants. A statement from Col. Wal
do, who is out with a relief expedition sent
to their assistance, says:
"From Boiling Spring to this place
Great Meadow have met with but few
who have any provisions at all except the
poor animals which have worked from the
States. Footmen who comprise ne?rly
one fourth of the number now on the road
are not blest with any such food as this,
but are reduced to the necessity of subsis-
! ting on the putrified flesh of dead animals
i which so abundantly line the road. This
i , l.i ,
has produced the most fatal consequences.
Disease and death are now mowing them
down by hundreds.
Those immigrants that are yelback sev
eral hundred miles, must receive relief, or
Jiieb.v starvation; and to whom can they
look, but to toe citizens of California for
their salvation. The land of their homes
is too far distant to render them any aid in
this hour of distress and danger.
It appears that the judgments of God
have pursued them from the time they set
J out "P to t!ie present hour. First Cholera
men tiarvauou-nexi, war, siarvauoaanu
cholera. The day has now passed when
any one will have the hardihood to say
that there is no suffering amongst the over-
land immigration at least no one within
200 miles of this place will make such a
declaration. No one now thinks of gold,
but of bread. This is the crv of all.
'Pi... r.n ! i-
i ne loiiowiug is an eiraci irom u icuer
wnttcn by S. B. Bright, one of the immi
grants, dated.
Salmon Trout River, Sept. 22. Some
noble fellows have already perished for
wanLof food. Others are eating cattle
that they hav found dead by the road
side, which have died by the double cause
disease and starvation. The most
common food used for a number of weeks
has been lame and worn down cattle
which, if every particle of tallow was
rendered out, would not make one candle!
Others have eaten their dogs and horses '
There is at the Sink of Humbolt, and
also on Salmon Trout river, flour for sale
at one dollar per pound, but the people
are out of money. I do not mean to say
that beggars are out of money, for this is
a common case, but those in good circum
stances in the States, whose misfortunes
have been brought on in various ways.
Whole teams have been lost ia'crbeiipg
VOL. 7. NO. a
the
various deserts.
Tht immense crow Js
of s.or-ii have ca:en ui t he rrnss a. id wil.
r
j TZ.
lows, and for days they have hxd m t'n'ng
to eat, which lias much retarded their
speed.
Money, teams and parts of le'irns, litre
been stolen by the Indians. Many cmi
grunts have bepn killed !y them. Olherj
robbed, and even killed swme or the Indi
ans, so you see there remains r. brotherly
feelings on the road between the rid men
and the white?. From the best estimate
of my own, and from others that daily
overtake me, there must be some ffseen
or twenty thousand s-uU yet behind, irn
peded by various causes and unless soma
immediate relief is rendered by your great
and (od-like enterprise, they will cither
be cut off by the Indians, or perish ia th
snow on the East of the mountains.
From Oregon.
The San Francisco papers contain some
items of intel!igen-e from Oregon, but lha
dates are not specified.
An election had been he'd in
Oregon
city which resulted in the choice of
tlx:
following named officers:
Wm. K. Kilborn,
Mavor; Franci i3.
Holland, Recorder.
Crawford, George
Trustees Meuorara
Hannum. Andrew
Hood, Richard "rJclhhaa and Ncyes
Smith.
At a meeiing of there officers, IsrJd on
the Cth of September, K. Prichett was
chosen city c-junsellor, Wm. B. Camp
bell, treasurer; Peter II. Hitch, assessor;
Septimus Hutlot, city marshal.
The overland immigrants were begin
ning to arrive at Oregon. They generally
told sad tales of suffering on the route.
ta Iavll;i!ioa la Ciunrr
was observed that a certain rich man
It
' "":.e.r invileJ ar, cne d ne '
ith him.
I U Uy a Wa?er- sa'd 'l
wap. 1 get tm
invitation from him Thi wncer ht-Inir
accepted he goes the next day to the nci
man house about the time he was l
dine, and tells the servant he unsi sta
his master immediately, for he ccu'd scro
him a thousand pounds.
Sir, said the servant to his master,
here is a man in a great hurry, whosar
he can save you a thousand pouud.
Out came the master.
What is that, sir, that you can save
me a thousand pounds?'
Yes, sir, I can; but I ;ie yoo ere at
dinner, I will go myself aud d inc, and.
cail again.'
O pray, sir, come in and taka ciccer
with me
1 shall Le troublesome.
Not at all.
The invitation was accepted. As focn
as the dm.ier was over, unj the fan i y
retired, ihe conversation was resun i d.
Well, sir.' siiJ the is. an cf the Imuse,
Now to your Lusir.ess. Pray let me
know liCA 1 em to savo a thccs.nd
pounds.
Wbv, sir, sail th other,! hear
you
u-ar
have a daughter to dispose cf in
riage.'
I have, sir.'
And tiiat you intend to
with teu thousand pounds.
po.-t.ori
her
1 do, sir.
Why, then sir, let. me have hr. and I
will take her at nine thousand.
l no master oi tne nouse rose in
sion and kicked him down stairs.
Tun ANTi-sriFF-n&T Association. In
the Middle Counties Herald, an English
paper, there is a letter from a gtuiieman
signing himself "ilataphobia," who sug
gests the organization of a society to tis-
j countenance, by example and precept, the
wearing of hats. lie s.ivs: "As n sufferer
, from the perverse fashion of wcari:g
i nartl, black chimney pots on the heads o:
j all who would not appear singi-ljr, I cb
serve, with great consolation, 'that our
French neighbors propose to exhibit a
j variety of bars at the exhibition next
i year. Certainly no part of British maio
j costume ugly as it is from hat to boot,
and senseless "and costly as it is uglv no
1 . . - - -
j part is more odious than the covering we
are doomed to wear on our heads lrcm
year to vear, and from generation to gen
eration, as if we were r.s perversely de
termined to stick to one fashion as Turns
and Quakers, win-out the lightness of the
one, or the shadiness of the other. I have
resolved, myself, to set the world at. de
fiance; and if ihe hatters are so obstihats
as to invent nothing more eomfortablo
than heavy fcit, and pasteboard pots, bv.
the time of the cxhioiti.tn o
do without them altogether,
will lend your powerful
the "anti-stifF-hat-mo-cmer.
r is- i i oK .ii
I trust you
aid in favor of
Kekpin t; PiTjiPr,iNy. We have kept
them to the twiddle of July, by nutting
them into a' dry cellar upon a scaiRild.
wheie the temperature was at no tiir.o
below the freez ng point Telegraph.'
Acre tve Hope oa hope 8vl