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THE RICHMOND COUNTY MIRKuni

A WEEKLY PAPER PRINTED ON STATEN ISLAND, DEVOTED TO SCIENCE, LITERATURE, & NEWS.

THREE DOLLARS PER ANNUM.

ORIGINAL TRANSLATIONS.

GAMBLER'S LUCK.

A TRANSLATION FROM THE GERMAN. "None but the poor relieve the poorMadness sports with madnessTemptations follow every lure,

And sadness follows sadness."

In the summer of the year 18-, Pyrmont was more than usually crowded from all parts of the Continent, and every species of amusement was put into requisition which could attract the stranger, and serve to render more agreeable one of the most beautiful watering places in Germany. Among such resources, the Rouge et Noir table stood conspicuous. Who does not know that in places like this, and at such seasons, play becomes one of the regular occupations of life?—and from the irresistible current of fashion, as well as to while away a tedious hour, many have become inveterate gamblers who never, under any other circumstances, had touched a card in their life-time, and others, yielding to the habitudes of the place, are absolutely compelled to appear occasionally at the gambling table, and play away some trifle.

To all the fascinations of high play, as well as to all the dictates of fashion on this head, there appeared to be a singular exception in the person of a young German noble. While others were hastening to the gaming table, he was to be found in the solitude of his chamber engaged in literary pursuits, or might be met with a book in hand in some of the many secluded walks with which Pyrmont so abounds.

Stanfelt, for so we shall call him, was young, rich, handsome, and of a polished address; and could not fail to have many who esteemed and loved him; and there appeared, too, a singular good fortune to wait on him in every undertaking; and a peculiarly happy star seemed to rule his destiny. An anecdote which was then current at the waters, exemplified this remarkably. It happened, that when a young man, still a minor, Stanfelt found himself, at a distance from home, suddenly in want of money, and was compelled to part with a valuable and highly jewelled watch, as he at first feared, to great disadvantage. It so happened, however, that in the ho- | tel at which he stopped, a young prince was in want of such, and readily became the purchaser for even more than its value. More than a year had elapsed after this when, in another and distant city, Stanfelt heard of a watch to be lotteried; he purchased a ticket, and won his own. A short time after this, he changed it for a ring; and some years later, on quitting the military service of his prince, received. as a token of remembrance, his own valuable watch.

This story, which was in every mouth, could not fail awong gamblers to excite the greatest surprise and astonishment, when contrasted with his evident dislike to play-and notwithstanding that his tastes and habits gave the flattest contradiction to it, the rumor arose that the young baron was a miser in his heart, and had not courage to make the smallest venture.

Stanfelt soon heard how he was spoken of. Naturally liberal and high-spirited, he detested the very thought of avarice, and resolved to refute the calumny at once, much as the sacrifice should cost him in feeling, by appearing some night at the gaming table, that the loss of two or three hundred louis-d'ors or more, might redeem

NEW BRIGHTON, MARCH 9, 1839.

his character from this foul slander. With this resolution, and with a full determination to lose this considerable sum, he appeared at the Rouge et Noir table. But here again his usual luck attended him; every card he drew succeeded: the deep and cabalistical calculations of the oldest and most practised gamblers trembled before the fortune of the baron-he might change his cards, or he might continue them; it was equal-he was sure to win. The baron presented the by no means singular spectacle of a man winning against his will; but the important sum he had already won compelled him to continue, thinking, too, that soon the change of fortune would brink with it a loss proportioned to his winnings; and thus he might accomplish the object with which he entered. The luck which a short time before had only annoyed him by deferring his intentions, became now no longer even a matter of indifference, and ere he himself knew it, a love of play had seized him. He was no more discontented at his good fortune, the game fettered his attention; riveted to the Rouge et Noir table, would he sit whole nights long, entrapped by that fascination of which he had often before heard others speak, but never till now believed in.

One night, just as the banker had finished a deal, the baron lifted up his eyes, and behind, directly opposite to him, an elderly man, who regarded him with the most earnest yet mournful expression; and whenever, in the intervals of the game the baron looked up, he caught the dark eye of the stranger firmly fixed upon him: he could not divest himself of an oppressive and unpleasant sensation which came on him. Ere the game was over, the stranger was gone.

On the night after, he was again there, and stared at him with his dark and spectral eyes, which never for a moment wandered from him. For some time the baron took no notice; but when on the third night he was opposite to him again, his eyes flashing with a withering brightness; the baron could contain himself no longer, but addressed him—

VOLUME III.-NUMBER VI.

"Yes," said he at length, "I have wronged, deeply wronged him. Am I to lose my command of myself so that, like a rude school-boy, I am to insult men, and without provocation, too!"

And as he reasoned thus, he half persuaded himself that perhaps the stranger's look proceeded from the sad feeling that while the baron heaped thousands on thousands on a card, he was enduring the bitterest and most cutting evils of poverty. With this impression, he resolved at once to seek out the stranger and apologise for his conduct. It so chanced that the first person the baron met that morning in the park was the stranger; he addressed him, reproached himself for his conduct on the evening before, and asked pardon for it. The stranger replied that there was really nothing to forgive; that men in the heat of play rarely measure their expressions, and that he himself had perhaps too obstinately maintained his place opposite the baron.

The baron now hinted at those circumstances which occasionally, in life, press upon men of rank and education, and gave him plainly to understand that he was ready with what he had won, and even more to assist the stranger, if he could accept it.

Sir," interrupted the stranger, "although you may deem me needy, I am not exactly so; for, though more poor than rich, I possess quite sufficient for my simple mode of life; and again, you must feel conscious that, if you had insulted me, it would be impossible to make the amende by an offer like yours, which as a man of honor I should refuse, were I not even a noble."

"I believe now," cried the baron, proudly, "I understand your meaning, and am ready to afford you the satisfaction you hint at.”

"Good God!" said the stranger, "how unequal such a meeting would be between us; I am convinced that you, no more than I, regard a duel as a childish folly, or suppose that a few drops of blood from the little finger of both of us, could wash out the stain of tarnished hon

or.

There are, it is true, such circumstances in life as "Monsieur, I must request you to choose another make it impossible for two men to exist in this earth toplace-you are disturbing my play." gether; and if the one lived at Caucasus, and the other With a bitter smile, the stranger bowed lowly, and on the Andes, it is no separation if the thought of the without speaking, left the room. hated one's existence survive. Then the quarrel is, On the next night the stranger stood and glanced on who shall resign his place in this globe to the other.— the baron with the same burning look; the baron imme-But between us, as I said before, the contest would not diately rose, and in a tone of scornful irony said—

"Sir, if it is your intention to make a jest of me, I beseech you to choose another time and place, for at this

moment

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be equal. I by no means value my life at so high a rate as yours; should I kill you, I destroy a whole world of budding hopes; were I to fall by your hand, you wouid only have closed the miseries which the bitterest recollecA motion with his hand supplied the place of the tions of a mispsent existence can call up! And after words he would, but could not utter; and as on the pre-all, the main cause remains unaltered, I do not feel ceding night, and with the same sad smile, the stranger myself insulted-you bade me go, and I went." bowed and withdrew.

The excitement of play, the wine he had drunk, and above all, his adventure with the stranger, prevented Stanfelt from sleeping. The morning was already dawning as he thought he beheld the image of the stranger before him; the sharply cast, expressive features, and the deeply sunk dark eyes which gazed and glowed on him; and he plainly saw that, despite the meanness of his dress, his whole appearance bespoke the gentleman. And now, the sorrowful resignation with which he bore the hard language addressed to him, and repressing any outbreak of anger, left the room, occurred to the baron.

The last words the stranger spoke with a tone which betrayed some inward sorrow-reason enough for the baron to continue his apologies by alleging, at the same time, that the searching look of the stranger-he knew not wherefore-had penetrated his very heart, and that he could no longer endure it.

"Would to Heaven," cried the stranger, "it had done so, and thus awakened you to a consciousness of the danger which impends over you. With all the wildness, all the unsuspecting fearlessness of youth, you have rushed to the brink of the precipice from which the slightest shock would dash you to the bottom. In one word, you are on the point of becoming a confirmed and

impassioned gambler." The baron assured him he was entirely in error: he circumstantially related how, and wherefore he was first induced to approach the Rouge et Noir table, and declared that, without the least passion for play, he only desired to lose a certain sum; and that once done, he would bet no more. Hitherto, however, nothing but the most unaccountable good luck had attended him.

manner, that he would return and bet for him; or if not, that he would at least stand beside him while he betted, and dispel the evil fortune which seemed to hover over him. It is well known that no class of persons are such victims to superstitious feelings as gamblers. The Chevalier refused flatly and resolutely, and at last declared that he would rather meet him in a duel than again bet for him; and then only was he able to rid himself of his There, there," said the stranger, eagerly, "that ve- solicitations, which he heartily regretted having ever ry luck is the most horrible and malicious enticement of yielded to. The luck of the Chevalier was now spoken the fiendish spirit. Ah! that very luck, baron, with of every where, and many mysterious circumstances which you play, your whole air and manner at the gam- were hinted at to account for it; but as his dislike for ing table, all, everything, too openly betray how every play was so very evident, his character rather rose in esinstant your interest in the game incrcases, and all re-timation from the strength of mind he evinced in not mind me of the awful fate of one whose beginning, in tempting his good fortnne. many respects, was like your own. For this reason it "It may have been about a year after this, that the was I could not turn my eyes from you; I could scarce Chevalier was disappointed by the non-arrival, of a long refrain from speaking in words, what my looks implied; expected remittance, and then, for the time, thrown into and exclaim-See! see! these are the outstretched claws the greatest and most pressing necessity. In this emerof the demon who would drag you down to perdition,-gency he was compelled to disclose, to a dear friend, the so would I have spoken. I longed to make your ac- circumstance which troubled him, who, without hesitaquaintance; this much has been granted to me. Listen tion, adding, at the same time— then to his history, of whom I spoke, and you will then be persuaded that it is no imaginary danger I shudder at, but that

The stranger and the baron seated themselves on a bench in a retired part of the park, when the former began in the following manner:-

"The same distinguished qualities which adorn you, then, baron, won once for the Chevalier Menais, the esteem and admiration of men, and made him a favorite among the women. In one respect only the resenblance does not hold; fortune had not been so gracious to him in worldly gifts! he was almost in poverty, and nothing but the most strict economy enabled him to maintain that station in society to which, as the descendant of a noble house, he was entitled; besides, the consideration that any loss, however trifling, would be of importance, deterred him fron play; so that at last it was without any sacrifice he avoided the gaming table, while in every thing he undertook, such was his good fortune that "The luck of Mennis" became a proverb. "One evening, contrary to his custo.n, he suffered himself to be over persuaded, and entered a gambling house. The friends who accompanied him were soon engaged in play, while he, without sympathy or participation in the scene around him, walked leisurely about, looking occasionally at the heaps of glittering gold that lay here upon the table. At this instant, an old colonel caught his eye and called out

"Way the d-1, here is the Chevalier Monais co ne among us, and yet we can't win, for he will neither declare for the bank or the betters: but this shall not long So, he shall bet for me this moment."

be

Every man, my dear Chevalier, has the road to good fortune open for him on one side or the other, if he be not too indolent to adopt it; and as for yourself, the higher powers plainly whisper in your ears-would you have gold and wealth, go hence and play; if not, live poor needy and dependant for ever.'

"Here, for the first time in his life, the Chevalier thought of his luck at the Rouge et Noir table, and from that mo.nent, waking or sleeping, he heard nothing but the monotonous 'Gagne!-Perd!' of the banker, and the clink of the gold pieces as he gathered them in.

"It is true,' said he to himself, 'one only night like that will snatch me from poverty, and rescue me from being a burden to my friend, besides, it is a duty, if fate points out the path, that I should follow it.'

"The friend who gave him the advice, accompanied him to the gaming table, and that he might begin with spirit, gave him twenty Louis d'ors. If the Chevalier was lucky when he had played for the Colonel, he was still more so nɔw. At randon, and without reflection, he drew his cards, but the unseen hand of a higher power presided over the game, and when he ceased to play he had won twenty thousand Louis d'ors.

evening would never come, when he might hasten to
the guning table; and when he did, his luck was con-
stant to hin; so much so that in the space of a few
weeks-every night of which he played-his winnings
amounted to a large sum.

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'The opportunities of the better seemed at last to be too limited, and with the large sum that he had won, he opened a table; and here, too, fortune stood by him, so that his soon became the richest bank in Paris, and thither, consequently, flocked all the most adventurous gamblers.

"The vacant and heartless life of a gambler soon undermined all the mental and bodily energy that had once won love and esteem for the Chevalier. He was no longer the true friend, the gay and joyous companion, the gallant and chivalrous admirer of ladies. Extinguished was all his love for science and art, all bis efforts for literary distinction were gone on his deadly pale countenance, in his sunken, lustreless eye, lay the strong impress of the cursed passion which held him enchained. It was not the love of play; no-it was the hateful thirst for gold which Satan had kindled within him. In a word, he was the most perfect banker at a Rouge et Noir table that can be conceived.

"One night, the Chevalier, without having lost, had yet less of his remarkable good fortune than was usual, when an old, meanly dressed man, of almost wretched appearance, approached the gaming table, and with a trembling hand drew forth a card and placed upon it a gold piece. Many of the players started as they beheld him, and treated him with unequivocal signs of contempt, all of which the old man appeared to notice neither by manner nor by words.

"The old man lost, time after time, and the greater his losses became, the higher arose the mirth of the bystanders; and at last, as the old man, who always doubled the preceding stake, had betted five hundred Bouis d'ors on a single card, and lost, one of them cried out

Well done, Signor Vertua, keep up your courage; go on;-for methinks at this rate you will soon shake the bank.'

"He threw one basilisk look at the mocker, and fled from the room. In less than half an hour he had returned, his pockets filled with gold. In one single deal he lost all-every thing he brought.

"The Chevalier, who, despite the dgradation of his profession, had still preserved some wreck of his former feelings, felt highly indignant at the manner in which the old man had been treated, and at the closing of the bank severely reprimanded one or two of those whose bad conduct had appeared most reprehensible.

It was with a feeling of entrance.nent that he awoke on the following morning. His winuings lay in heaps "So then,' cried one of them, 'you do not know of glittering gold upɔn a table. At first, he believed it the old Signor Vertua, Chevalier! If you did, you to be a dream; he rubbed his eyes, seized the table and would not find fault with us for what we have done.— shook it to and fro; bet when he bethought hin of all Know, then, that this same Vertua, by birth a Neapolithat happened, as he passed his fingers through the heap tan, for the last fifteen years which he has spent in Parof gold pieces counting and recounting them again and is, has earned the reputation of being the lowest, meanagain; then, and then for the first time, like a pestilen-est and vilest miser that breathes. A stranger to every |tial vapor, he i nbibed the poisonous love of mammon feeling of hu nanity, his brother might expire at his ve"The Chevalier pleaded his inexperience, his utter within him, and then for ever fled that purity of con- ry feet ere he would save him at the cost of a single louignorance of the game-to no purpose; the colonel per-science which had long protected him. He thought the is d'or. The curses of hundreds, ay, of whole families, sisted, and compelled him to approach the table. Just ruined by his infernal speculations, follow him wherever as with you, baron, luck attended the Chevalier; every he goes. Universally hated, every one prays that he card won; so that in a few minutes he had gained a conmay meet with full retribution for a life of ignominy and siderable sum for the colonel, who could hardly contain baseas. Long as he has been in Paris, he has never himself for joy at the happy thought of calling in the been known to play, so that you need not wonder at our well-known luck of the Chevalier to his aid. While surprise when we saw him, nor blame us for rejoicing at all the bystanders were in astonishment at the luck of his losses. It were too bad, surely, if fortune should fathe Chevalier, upon himself it made not the slightest vor such an old villain. It is plain enough the riches of impression; nay, he felt, he knew not why, that his disyour bank tempted him; he intended to ruin you, and like to play was rather increased, so that when he woke has himself fallen into the trap. But my wonder is how the morning after, he resolved, with more determination he ventured on such high play. However, we are rid than before, that under no circunstances whatever he of him now: we shall never see him here again.' would ever re-enter a gambling house. This resolution was soon to be put to the proof; for the Colonel had, after the Chevalier's departure, a run of continued bad luck, and came to entreat of him, in the most pressing

There are two sorts of gamblers. Some play, without any thought of gain, fettered only by that indescribable and mysterious fascination inseparable from game of chance, and regarding the alternations of luck as the most pleasant and stimulating of all excitementa; and thus, I once knew a man who, days and n ghts long, in his chamber, sat and played with himself; and that man was, in my opinion, a decided gambler: others there are who have merely gain before their eyes, and look upon play as a means of speedily enriching themselves. To this latter class belonged the Chevalier.

"This conjecture was by no means borne out; for, early on the following evening, Vertua again appeared at the bank of the Chevalier, and betted and lost even more than before. He stood his ground patiently, how

ever-nay, at times he would smile with a kind of irony as if to say-this will soon be otherwise.'

"But on the next evening his losses were still greater, so that at last it was calculated that he had lost thirty thousand Louis d'ors.

"One evening he came in late, long after the play had began his face deadly pale, his look wild and deranged. He stood apart from the players, and gazed vacantly at the table. At last, as the Chevalier began a new deal, the old man made his way through the crowd and cried, in a half screaming tone of voice-Stop!' Every one started with horror. He made toward the Chevalier, and, stooping low, muttered into his ear

'Chevalier, my house in the Rue St. Honore, with its furniture, and my plate of gold and silver are valued at eighty thousand francs-will you take the bet?' "Done!' said the Chevalier, calmly, and without bestowing a look on him, gave out the cards.

"The queen,' said the old man, and at that instant the queen had lost. He fell back through the crowd, and leaned against the wall, unconscious and motionless as a statue. No one troubled themselves about him.

“The game was over—the players gone-the banker, was packing the gold he had won in his cassette, when the old man staggered like a spectre from the corner, and with a low and broken voice said

"A word with you, Chevalier!-but one single

word!'

'Well, what is't?' said the Chevalier, as he turned the key in the lock and measured, with a look of contempt, the old man from head to foot.

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Agreed! said the Chevalier, 'you can ride with me in my carriage to your house, which to-morrow you leave for ever.'

"Not one word was spoken by either the entire way. Arrived at the door, Vertua pulled the bell. An old woman opened the door; and no sooner had she beheld Vertua than she cried out-

"Blessed be God, you are come at last, Signor Vertua! Angela has been half dead with fright on your account.'

"Be still, said he, 'be still. Heaven grant that she may not have heard the unlucky bell! She must not know that I am come in,' thus saying, the old man took a lamp from the servant, and led the Chevalier to an apartment.

"I am convinced, Chevalier,' said Vertua, 'that you hate, that you despise me. But you know me not.Learn, then, that I was once a gambler like yourselfmy luck equalled your own. I travelled Europe half over, seeking wherever high play was to be found, and on the table of my bank the gold lay in heaps as great and glittering as on yours. I had a lovely and a faithful wife, whom I neglected, and who was wretched in the midst of the most splendid magnificence. It so happened that I once opened a table in Geneva; I won from a young Roman every thing he possessed in the world; and as I begged of you this day, so he besought

me to lend him as much as would enable him to return

and my Angela rises many a prayer to Heaven, from those we have assisted in distress. But this would appear to you a false and foolish boast; for you are a gambler.

But Satan, alas! had power over me still. I heard of your bank, Chevalier; every day news reached me of this one or that one who had lost all there, and an idea struck me that I was fated to try my gambler's luck, that never failed me, against yours; and this thought, like a madness, followed me, and gave me no rest day or night; so I went to your bank, and my madness never left me till. Alas my Angela! You will not refuse my daughter's taking her wardrobe with her?'

SELECT MISCELLANY.

Santa Anna.

Antonio Lopez De Santa Ana is again President of the republic of Mexico. What a chequered life has his been! First distinguishing himself in public life (in 1821) as the supporter of ITURBIDE; then in arms against him, and chiefly instrumental in his fall, and in procuring the adoption of the federal constitution; in a year afterward, trying and failing to obtain the title and power of Protector of the Republic; then for five years living in retirement, out of public employ; re-appearing in 1828, on the news of Pedraza's election to the Presidency, raising the standard in favor of his opponent, Guerrero; then to Rome. I repulsed him with contempt, and, stung to defeated, driven to the mountains, and outlawed; recallmadness, he drew a dagger which he wore and plunged ed almost immediately, and placed at the head of the it into my bosom. My life was saved with the greatest army sent out to oppose him; then (in April, 1829,) made difficulty, and my sick bed was long and tedious. Then Secretary of War and commander-in-chief of the army; my wife tended me, nursed me, consoled and sustained in that capacity repelling and conquering the ill-digested me; and when recovery dawned on me, it brought with Spanish invasion under Barradas, soon after driven from it a feeling I never knew before. Every generous sen- office with the President Guerrero; again in arms, drivtiment is banished from the bosom of the gambler; and ing Bustamente from power; then succeeding to the Prethus it was I never knew till now, what meant the love sidency of the republic, and, while President, in the and dependant affection of a wife. Deep in my soul I midst of a successful military career, beaten, captured, sorrowed at my ingratitude towars her, and despised the and held prisoner by the Texans; released by them, remean courses for which I had deserted her. What a pairing to Washington, and sent home in a public vessel dreadful vengeance came upon me then, in my sleepless of the United States; there coldly and repulsively renights when I thought of those whom mercilessly, pitiless-ceived; retiring to his farm for two years; called from it ly, I had ruined. I thought they rose up before me, and heaped all the crimes that followed their despair, upon my devoted head. Maddened with the thought, I made a solemn vow never more to play. I withdrew myself 'Have I not told you,' said the Chevalier peevishly, from my old associates, withstood the tempting solicita'that I never lend any of my winnings?'

"I have lost,' said the old man, my whole property at your bank. Nothing, Chevalier-no, nothing remains to me over; I know not to-morrow where I shall lay my head, where I shall satisfy my hunger. To you I fly to you! Lend me, from what you have won from the tenth part, that I may again begin my business, and lift myself above the deepest want!'

me,

"What are you dreaming of?' said the Chevalier; 'what are you dreaming of, Signor Vertua? Don't you know well that a banker never lends any of his winnings? That were against all rule and custom, and I

must not deviate.'

"It is true,' said Vertua, 'you are right, Chevalier, my request was a thoughtless one-exorbitant! The tenth! no, the twentieth part, lend me.'

666

666

'It is true,' said Vertua, while his face grow more ashy pale, his look wilder and madder, it is true, you must not lend; I did not lend myself; but at least, give the beggar an alms, from that wealth which blind Fortune has this day thrown into your hands. Lend me but one hundred Louis d'ors.'

"In good truth,' spoke the Chevalier, scornfully, 'Signor Vertua, you are a perfect adept at teasing. I tell you, not a hundred, not fifty, not twenty-no, not one Louis d'or shall you have from me! I should be a madman, truly, if I afforded you the slightest aid, that you might begin again your accursed trade. No, no! Fate has humbled you to the dust like an envenomed worm. It were a crime to raise you raise you again from it. Hence, then, and to perdition, as you deserve.'

tions of my 'croupier,' and purchased a small villa ncar
Rome, where I retired with my wife.

But alas! only one year of the happiness I had pictured to myself was granted to me, and when I had begun perf.ctly to enjoy it, my wife gave me a daughter, and died a few weeks after. I became deranged, called Heaven to account for taking away my preserver and my rescuer from crime and ruin, my only source of hope and consolation. As the sinner dreads the solitude of his thoughts, I fled from my home and came here to Paris. Angela grew up the lovely image of her mother; my whole heart centred in her, and for her sake I devoted myself to make for her a large fortune. It is true, I lent money on interest; but it is a foul calumny to say I am a usurer. And who are they who call me so Spendthrifts, who cease not to beg for loans,-and when "With a hollow sigh Vertua pressed both his hands I give that which is not mine, but my daughter's, and across his face, and fell back in the chair. The Cheva- ask for it again, they revile me as a pitiless usurer. It lier ordered the servant to put the cassette into the car- was not many days since I lent a young man a considerriage, and with a haughty air demandedable sum to save him from shame and imprisonment.— "When will you give me up your house and furni- He came in for a rich inheritance, and, would you credit ture, Signor Vertua ?'

"The old man sprang to his feet, and in a collected tone of voice, said-Now, sir!-this instant! Come with me.'

it, Chevalier, when I demanded my loan, he denied my
right to claim the debt, and called me 'usurer.' If I am
hard of heart and pitiless, it is these, and more like these
have made me so. But still, I might tell you that for me

to head an army to resist the invasion of the Mexican territory by the forces of France; in a gallant sally, losing his leg, and almost his life; and hey, presto! by another sudden revolution of things, again President, and in effect dictator, of the Mexican Republic!

British Eneroachments.

We e copy the following from the Baltimore Chronicle, of the 25th ult.:

"It is stated in the Detroit Morning Post, that a citizen of the United States was recently arrested, tried and convicted at Sandwich, Upper Canada, for an assault committed in Detroit, that is, in the United States. The same paper publishes the indictment in this infamous outrage, which speaks of the city of Detroit as being in the Western District of Upper Canada. It talks of blows given in Detroit by one Howland Hastings to one Samuel Wilcox, as being "against the peace of our lady the queen, her crown and dignity." A certified copy of this remarkable indictment is published from the of fice at Sandwich, with the endorsements by the foreman and John Prince. Governor Mason has demanded the release of the prisoner, and has sent a statement of the fact to the President."

A thousand little rills, springing up in the retiring walks of life, go to swell the tide of national glory and prosperity; and whoever in the solitude of his chamber, and by even a single effort of his mind has added to the intellectual eminence of his country, has not lived in vain.

Liberty.

“Liberty will never descend to a people, a people must raise themselves to liberty; it is a blessing that must be earned before it can be enjoyed. That nation cannot be free where reform is a common hack, that is dismissed with a kick the moment it has brought the rider to his place. That nation cannot be free, where parties are but different roads, leading to one common destination, plunder. That nation cannot be free, where the rulers cannot feel for the people, until they are obliged to feel with the people; and then it is too late. That nation cannot be free which is bought by its own consent, and sold against it where the rogue that is in rags is kept in countenance by the rogue that is in ruffles, and where from high to low, from the lord to the lacquey, there is nothing radical but corruption, and nothing contemptible but poverty; where both patriot and placeman, perceiving that money can do every thing, are prepared to do every thing for money. That nation cannot be free which the leprosy of selfishness sticks to as the curse of Elisha to his servant Gehuzi; where rulers do not ask what recommends a man, but who—and where he who wants a rogue has no occasion to make, but to choose.I hope there is no nation like this under heaven; but if there were, these are the things that, however great she might be, would keep such a nation from liberty, and liberty from her. These are the things that would force upon such a nation—first, a government of expedients; secondly, of difficulties; lastly of danger. Such a nation could begin to feel only by fearing all that she deserqed, and finish by suffering all that she feared."

It is said that Daniel Sweetman of Albany, recently pardoned by Gov. Arthur, was one of the prisoners whom the gallant Col. Prince ordered to be "shot immediately." The Toledo Blade says that upon hearing the order he coldly folded his arms and told them "to shoot and be hanged." This procured the interposition of a British officer, and his life was saved.

The Mirror.

FRANCIS L. HAGADORN, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
The Mirror has been well defined
The emblem of a thinking minel,
For, look upon it when you will,
You'll find it is reflecting still.

NEW BRIGHTON, N. Y. MARCH 9, 1839.
STATEN ISLAND FERRY.-We have heard that "the

tion from other equally important matters, and bids fair
to roll a Lethean pall over kindred enormities, while it
foams and lashes around a single object.

Are we to forget that while American citizens are now
daily suffering upon Canadian gibbets for venturing on
a foreign ground with arms in their hands-promotion,
titles, and emolument are the rewards of those who per-
petrated the outrage upon the "Caroline." It has been
urged that this ill-fated vessel was in the employ of reb-
els! but has it ever been denied that regularly commis-
sioned officers of "her majesty" fitted out and com-
manded the expedition which on that occasion boldly
invaded our soil to effect a certain purpose? Not yet!
But we despair not of the day when that same impudent
presumption which now claims "exclusive jurisdiction"
over the "disputed territory" will not hesitate to say
that the Caroline was burnt in British waters, on the
ground of some new founded claim of territory. For
what shall prevent these inductive theorists from claim-
ing "exclusive jurisdiction" over the "disputed terri-
tory" in the neighborhood of Schlosser, on the plea that
the United States never disputed her majesty's right to
pursue and punish rebels. who had retreated there as if
to neutral ground?

ty voice is thundering from Iowa to Maine, and it has been echoed, too, upon the shores of the Potomac at the juncture when the dissolving of Congress will spread its energies without dividing them, and diffuse its spirit while it lends it strength.

We will dismiss this subject for the present with the following extract from a paper on the "American war” which appeared in 1814 in the November number of the Edinburgh Review, during the labors of the convention of Ghent. The high character of the periodical from which this is extracted, if considered in connexion with the then excited state of the times must give a great weight to its opinions on this important subject.

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And when it is considered that these opinions, so completely at variance with the British assumptions of the present day, were made public at a time when the two countries were acting as belligerents, they must be respected as high authority. It will be perceived that the Review" treats the matter as all the world treated it at that time, and as the Americans treat it at the present day, as the attempt of a humbled power to prescribe terms to its conquerors, of a weakened power to strengthen itself at the expense of its superior. It will be perceived, too, that the appellation of "disputed territory"

An assault was lately made in the city of Detroit up-has been conferred on that tract since the treaty of 1814. on the person of a Canadian. The course to be pursued in this case was to arraign the perpetrator of the outrage, in Detroit; for the outrage was clearly upon the laws of the state wherein it was committed. But, far from this-the British authorities laid in wait for the gentleman! and while on a subsequent visit to Sand

"The war however, whoever had the immediate blame of it, found us shamefully unprepared, and ridiculously sanguine and secure. Our navy was to drive the pigmy fleets of America from the ocean, and to levy contributions along all her shores—while the very dread and ter

ror of our hostility was expected to shake their unsea

soned government to pieces—to effect a disunion of the states-in all likelihood a civil war, and perhaps the returd of some of the revolted colonies to the dominion of the mother country!

wich, Upper Canada he was suddenly arrested, tried and
convicted in pursuance of an indictment for "certain
blows inflicted in Detroit," "being against the peace of
our queen, her crown and dignity." The indictment
bears date in the Western District of Upper Canada!
And shall we be surprised in the course of a few years
when the British governor of Upper Canada shall claim
"exclusive jurisdiction" over the adjuncts of Detroit,
on the plea that persons committing crimes in that city
have been arrested and punished at Sandwich "with-ers, and baffled in most of our enterprises by land.--
out our special wonder "?

The Hudson's Bay Company has by permission of Her Majesty's government, established certain military posts in the United States territory beyond the Rocky Mountains, which posts can never be given up with honor, but through force.

Our whole boundary from the Rocky mountains to Turnpike Company" are building another boat, to be St. Mary's falls is for the most part an unsubdued and placed by the side of the Hercules and Samson. We will christen the new boat " Goliah," and, while we are about it, propose that the old Bolivar be laid up just long enough to paint "Methuselah " upon her wheel-houses.

THE BORDER WAR,
NUMBER TWO.

"Such were our expectations. How they have been answered by events is too painfully and universally known to make it necessary for us to say any thing.-We have been worsted in most of our naval encount

With a naval force on their coast exceeding that of the enemy in the proportion of ten to one, we have lost two out of three of all the sea-fights in which we have been engaged-and at least three times as many men as our opponents; while their privateers swarm unchecked round all our settlements, and even on the coast of Europe, and have already made prize of more than seventeen hundred of our merchant vessels.

an unoccupied wilderness, and we see no reason to By land, we were so shamefully unprovided that had
doubt (if "precedent is law") that the lapse of a quar- it not been for the gross mismanagement of the Ameri-
ter of a century might have beheld the British govern- can commanders, they must have got possession of Mon-
ment claiming "exclusive jurisdiction over the "dis-treal, and in all probability have advanced to the walls of
puted territory which stretches along the northwestern
boundary.of the United States from St. Mary's falls to
the Rocky mountains!"

The threatening aspect of affairs upon our northeast- But, thanks to the bold stand of Gov. Fairfield, the ern frontier at this time naturally engrosses a considera- time of reckoning has come! Our lagging statesmen ble portion of the public interest. Every hour freights are scrubbing up their latent diplomacy-the "great mathe busy wings of rumor with important burdens-eve- gician" is waiving his impending wand-and twenty ry newspaper is searched and researched for items of in-thousand bayonets are glistening with impatience in wait telligence-every friendly greeting is sure to harbinger an enquiry for "news from Maine"-and crowds of cager news-mongers are carefully noting the movements of the rival governors, while tens of thousands of our impetuous youth are anxiously hoping to display their chivalry upon the border. The bustling clusters that gather round the different reservoirs of news, bespeak a commendable solicitude for the high interests of our wide spread country, influenced by an ardent patriotism and a dispassionate but dauntless determination. But this mighty tide is well-nigh wafting our atten

Quebec before the end of the first campaign; and even when reinforced to an extent which could not possibly have been counted on when the war began, it is but too well known that we have gained no substantial or permanent advantages-but have actually had to witness the incredible spectacle of a regular and well appointed army of British veterans retiring before little more than an equal force of American militia!

upon the gallant governor of Maine! The time is at While these things were yet in progress, and while it hand-the emergency must not, cannot be avoided-our was extremely doubtful whether Bonaparte was to reboundaries must now be defined by monuments of great-tain dominion of the continent, and whether the whole er magnitude than the monuments of surveyors! Let resources of England might not be required to maintain not a spirit of cringeing conciliation induce us to lose the cause of Europe on European ground, we again testhe present opportunity and put off the settlement of this tified our desire, or our need of peace, by making a sponimportant principle until the shoulders of another gene-taneous proposal for an immediate negotiation. This ration must bear the burthen. Sooner or later the dis- proposal was made in December, 1813, and was immedipute' must be settled, and there is no time like the pre- ately acceded to on the part of the American governsent when the great mass of our citizens are loudly call- ment-and the consequence has been the discussions ing for prompt, vigorous, energetic action. This migh- I still pending at Ghent.

ment of New Brunswick-besides some smaller matters, | for the invasion of one state by another, or the forcible
and we refuse to make peace unless these terms are com- dismemberment of an atom of her indisputed territory.
plied with.
It is upon this principle that civilized society depends for
its very existence. It is by this alone that the strong
are restrained and the weak protected from oppression-
by this, and by this only, that the substance or names of
public principle or occasional peace have ever been heard
of among mankind.

On the Justice of these pretensions-on the fairness
of the causa belli we have scarcely a word to say, after
we have again repeated that it is undeniably, and almost
professedly, a war of conquest on our part. The terri-
tory we now insist on taking from America was solemn
ly ceded and secured to her by the treaty of 1783, when The apology that is held out for our invasion of this
we knew, or ought to have known as well as we do now principle, however, is not more hollow in itself than it is
what was necessary for the security of the provinces that inconsistent with the very form of the invasion. We
we retained. The obligations of that treaty, we hum-are the weakest of the two powers it seems in America;
bly conceive, are by no means annulled by the war that
has intervened; because that war did not arise from an
infraction of the treaty on the part of the United States
but from certain collisions of neutral and belligerent
pretensions, which have since been settled and entirely
taken away by the cessation of European hostilities, and
which leave all the other rights and pretensions of both
nations precisely on the same footing as before.

But it is truly of no consequence whether the treaty of 1783 be supposed to be in force or not. At all events

and therefore, what? why, we will take by force what is necessary to put us on a footing with our neighbor.— This way of putting our case certainly lays us open to a very perplexing dilemma. If we are now in a condition to take our neighbor's territory by force, we surely cannot justify our taking it on the score that we are too weak to have any chance in a contest against him;—or, if we are too weak to enter into a contest, we certainly have no chance of succeeding in depriving him of it by means of a war. The plea, however, is manifestly prc

At the time when this proposal was made, it certainly will not be pretended that we had any view to an increase of territory, or to any other thing than the adjustment of those questions as to neutral and maritime rights, which formed the whole original subject of contention; and as little can it be doubted that peace would have been instantly and joyfully accepted, had America been then disposed to withdraw her pretensions upon the points of search and impressment, or to leave those and the other relative questions as to the law of blockade, to amicable and deliberate discussion. The great doubt and difficulty was whether America would abandon any part of her pretensions, and whether we would consent to such modifications of our practice as to lay a ground for immediate pacification. Before the Commissioners met, however, all these difficulties seemed to be providentially removed, for peace was restored to Europe; and with the state of belligerent, vanished all the grievances and all the pretensions of the neutral. As there was no longer to be any impressment at all, it became quite unnecessary to settle under what limitations impressment should take place out of the trading ships of a neutral;—and as all blockade, and prospect of block-it is indisputable that when we went to war with Ame-posterous; and the consequence of admitting it would be, ade was abandoned, it was equally idle to define the conditions on which it should be enforced against third parties. It could scarcely be pretended, and could never for a moment be seriously believed in any quarter, that it could be of any use to settle these general questions with respect to future cases of war and neutrality, that all the world knew would make rules, or exceptions, suited to their own emergencies; and at all events it was obvious that such a settlement upon abstract principles, would be gone about with much better hope of success in deliberate consultations entered into after the cessation of hostilities, than by the ruder logic of force. It was confidently anticipated therefore, that America would consent to waive all her neutral pretensions, and that the war would die a natural death upon the removal of all the objects and causes by which it had been excited. This anticipation, it appears, was fully realized on the part of America, who instructed her commissioners to allow all those points to lie over, and to let the second-ded advantage on our side as would have entitled us to ary and relative hostilities which had arisen out of the wars in Europe cease with the wars which had occasioned them: and we are now at war because England will not agree to that proposal, but insists upon gaining certain advantages by the war which she had not in contemplation when she herself first suggested the negotiation, and which, to all ordinary observers, she seems to have but a feeble prospect of obtaining by force.

What these advantages are, it is not necessary very minutely to explain. They amount, in one word, to a demand for a cession of territory, and the war which is now going on is neither more nor less than a war for the conquest of that territory. By the treaty of 1783, the boundary line between the United States and Canada was settled with the utmost precision; and for the greater part it was made to run through the centre of the great chain of lakes, and their connecting waters, with a joint right of navigation to both parties. The territory of certain Indian tribes, who are now dignified with the name of our Allies, is within the country then solemnly ceded to America, in so far as England had any power to cede it,-in the same way as the territory occupied by many other Indian tribes was included in the country then finally ceded to England. We now insist on the exclusive armed occupation of all those waterson a guarantee of the perpetual inviolability of the territory of our Indian allies, and on the unqualified and absolute cession, without compensation, of a part of the State of Massachusetts, in order to establish a more convenient communication between Halifax and our settle

that after we had got what we now ask, we might ask for more, till we were on a footing of perfect equality with our neighbor; or, in other words, that mere inequality of force in neighboring states, is a lawful and a sufficient cause for the weakest engaging in a war of

rica on the subject of neutral commerce and belligerent
impressment, the whole territory and subjects which we
now insist on her giving up, were confessedly and ex-
clusively hers, and formed a part of her legitimate and
unquestioned dominian-no matter whether expressly
recognized or guaranteed by treaty or not. It is as lit-conquest.
tle to be denied, we think, that when she did go to war
about neutral rights, she had, if not a just, at least a
natural and colorable excuse for so doing. It was not a
war of mere depredation or conquest-an unprovoked
and wanton aggression upon her part for the gratifica-
tion of cupidity or revenge-but an ordinary case of ta-
king up arms for the redress of specific and considera-
ble grievances which we cannot deny to have existed,
though we are of opinion that she war not fully justified
in the circumstances of the case, in taking that way to
redress them. After a short period of hostilities, atten-
ded with various success-certainly not with such deci-

dictate terms to the enemy, had the original subject of
contention remained--the occasion of dissention is for-
tunately removed by the restoration of peace in Europe,
and the consequent disappearance of both neutrals and
belligerents. America then agrees to waive all further
discussion of claims which are no longer to be asserted
in practice; and England refuses to lay down her arms
till she has got large portions of land and water from
her antagonist. The war which goes on after this, is
just as clearly a war of mere conquest and aggression
on our part as if we had first signed a peace on the ac-
commodation of the only point which had occasioned
the war, and the next day declared war anew, for the
avowed purpose of adding a part of her territory to our
possessions.

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The matter, indeed, seems scarcely to be disguised in the official statements of our commissioners. It is not in the way of indemnity for the past or security for the future that we demand these cessions. It is because the joint possession of the lakes is apt to excite a contest for naval superiority, and in order that we may have a direct communication between Halifax and New Brunswick! Pretexts like these pretexts, indeed, of a much higher nature, have never been wanting to justify that most pernicious and dangerous of all human crimes, the undertaking of a war of conquest; nor is there any other meaning in the general principle of maintaining the independence of all civilized governments, than that no pretext-nay, that no proof of increased security and general advantage shall be admitted as an apology

It is needless, however, to say more of the justice of our pretensions, when we have so much to say upon the inexpediency of pursuing them any further. If we had ever so just a title to the territory we are now fighting to acquire, we conceive it would be insanity to fight for such an object. We think it impossible that we should succeed in acquiring it—and altogether certain that we shall encounter disgrace and disaster in its pursuit.

The invasion of their territory will necessarily unite all America against us.. Nothing but the most complete ignorance of their character can leave the least doubt on that subject. They are split, no doubt, into hostile factions-very rancorous and abusive of each other; but they are all zealous republicans, and are all outrageously proud of their constitution and vain of their country.This is, indeed, the ruling passion in all democracies; and it exists in America in a degree that is both offensive and ridiculous to strangers. In this peint of view nothing could be more unwise-to say nothing more of them-than our unmeaning marauding expeditions to Washington and Baltimore, which exasperated without weakening, and irritated the passions of the nation without even a tendency to diminish its resources-nay, added directly to their force, both by the indignation and unanimity which they excited, and by teaching them to feel their own strength, and to despise an enemy who, with all his preparation and animosity, could do them so little mischief. The consequences were, accordingly, immediately apparent; and for the paltry and unworthy gratification of obliging the Congress to assemble in a wooden shed, we gave confidence and popularity to the war party in that assembly, and tied up the tongues of those who might otherwise have thwarted their designs. This was before our projects of conquest were known in the country; and it affords a pretty sure augury of the effect of their promulgation. We have no doubt at all that every man in America will be for a vigorous prosecution of the war rather than to submit to such an indignity; and that though the adverse factions will still accuse each other, sacrifices and efforts will be made for this purpose, of which scarcely any other people would be capable.

In the next place, what sort of a nation is it that we

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