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a prudent intelligent person, Dr. J. D., who, ofing the time of the tryal. At which time the judge his own accord, offered him, it being a thing of was very much troubled, and gave sentence that such consequence, to send to a friend of his in the night the tryal was; which was a thing never used north for greater assurance of the truth of the in Durham before, nor after." narration, which motion, he (Dr. H. M.) wil- There is a difference of opinion between Mr. lingly embracing, he (Dr. J. D.) accordingly sent. Webster and Dr. Henry More, as to the nature of The answer to his letter, from his friend, Mr. this apparition—the former holding it to have been Shepherdson, was this ::
the “astral spirit of Anne Walker; the other de
riding this as a fantastic conceit of the Paracel“I have done what I can to inform myself of the
sists, and insisting that it was her soul. Perhaps passage of Sharp and Walker. There are very few men that I could meet, that were then men, or at
the two opinions are not irreconcilable. However, the tryal, saving these two in the enclosed paper, we will not stop to reconcile them here, but relate both men at that time, and both at the tryal." And one more story, and let the reader go to bed. for Mr. Lumley, he lived next door to Walker; and Some years ago, when travelling in Germany, what he hath given under his hand, can depose, if it was our fortune to make the acquaintance of a there were occasion. The other gentleman writ Roman Catholic clergyman, who was the subject his attestation with his own hand, but I being not of a most strange and frightful spiritual visitation. there, got not his name to it. I could have sent in the year 1838, he had been appointed to a vilyou twenty hands that could have said thus much, and more, by hear-say, but I thought these most lage parish, and entered upon his work with an proper, that could speak from their own eyes and ardor that distinguished him in all his pursuits.
The first night that he spent in his own residence, Thus far, Mr. Shepherdson, the doctor's dis- he could not sleep ; hour after hour, he lay tossing creet and faithful intelligencer. Now for Mr. on his restless bed, and rose in the morning withLumley's testimony, it is this :
out having closed an eye. He attributed this,
however, to the excitement of his spirits, the “Mr. William Lumley, of Lumley, being an an- strange bed, the fatigue of his journey-in short, cient gentleman, and at the tryal of Walker and to any cause but what proved to be the true one. Sharp, upon the murder of Anne Walker, saith. The second night came, and he rested no better ; That he doth very well remember that the said the third and the fourth equally failed to bring him Anne was servant to Walker, and that she was supposed to be with child, but would not disclose repose.
He changed his hour of going to bed, by whom. But, being removed to her aunt's in worked hard during the day, did everything possithe same town, called Dame Carie, told her aunt ble to win sleep to his pillow, but in vain. It that he that had got her with child would take care might be on the seventh or the eighth night that both of her and it, and bid her not trouble herself. he felt, as he lay feverishly turning from side to After some time she had been at her aunts, it was side, something sitting, as he thought, on the side observed that Sharp came to Lumley one night, of his bed. being a sworn brother of the said Walker's, and
He sat up, groped with his hand they two, that night, called her forth from her aunt's over the bed-coverings, to the place where the house, which night she was murdered.
pressure seemed to be, and was sensible of some“ About fourteen days after the murder, there thing that yielded to a push, but immediately after appeared to one Graime, a fuller, at his mill, six returned to its former place. He got up, and miles from Lumley, the likeness of a woman, with lighted a candle ; there was nothing to be seen on her hair about her head, and the appearance of five the bed, nothing to be found in the room, that wounds in her head, as the said Graime gave
it in evidence. That that appearance bid him go to a
could have been the cause of his seusations. He justice of peace, and relate to him how that Walker lay down again, leaving the light burning, and and Sharp had murdered her, in such a place as now first did a superstitious awe steal over him, she was murdered; but he, fearing to disclose a when he felt the weight on the bed-side as before, thing of that nature against a person of credit, as while his eyes assured him that nothing visible Walker was, would not have done it; but she con- occupied the place. Of sleep there was now no tinually appearing night by night to him, and pul- hope, and not only for that night, but for many ling the cloathes off his bed, told him he should never rest till he had disclosed it. Upon which, the said following, till the health of the man, thus at once Graime did go to a justice of peace, and related the deprived of his natural rest, and pursued by the whole matter. Whereupon the justice of peace terrors of an invisible world, began perceptibly to granted warrants against Walker and Sharp, and give way. This had gone on about a fortnight, committed them to prison. But they found bail when he began to see something. It was the to appear at the next assizes. At which time they shape of a woman veiled from head to foot, as it came to their tryal, and upon the evidence of the seemed, in a gray mist, sitting on the bed. circumstances with that of Graime of the apparition, haunted man began to fear for his reason; he wrote
The they were both found guilty, and executed.
• WILLIAM LUMLEY." to Schubert, to Dr. Kerner, to Professor Eschen" The other testimony is of Mr. James Smart, of in the secrets of psychology; he detailed his suf
mayer, to every one he could hear of, as versed the city of Durham, who saith—That the tryal of Sharp and Walker was in the month of August, ferings ; he supplicated help. As might be ex1631, before Judge Davenport. One Mr. Fairhair pected, the correspondence had no result but that gave it in evidence upon oath, that he see the like- of rendering the case more hopeless. The sufferer ness of a child stand upon Walker's shoulders dur-travelled from one master of the mystic science to another; and it was while on a visit to Schubert in gold, silver and colors, with illustrative vignettes that we became acquainted with him. Of course wrought in the borders. To give an idea of the all that could be done for him was done, and labor bestowed on this work, we can mention that
for amounted to just—nothing. He returned in de
every color there is a distinct impression from a
single stone; and as on some of the pages there are spair to his parish ; and, to put the reality of the seven colors employed, it follows that for each of apparition to a new test, he spoke to it. It an- these pages there have been seven stones used, in swered. He related this to his friends; they seven impressions. The binding is chaste, rich and smiled, and said his poetical temperament was car- solid, somewhat after the old English style-dark rying him too far. More than one said, “Send morocco, with very little gilding or embossing. your spectre to me; if there be anything in her, The form is quarto.-N. Y. Com. Adv. I'll find it out.” He promised to do so,
EvangeLINE-A Tale of Acadie. By Henry his promise. Sleep, so long a stranger, revisited Wadsworth Longfellow. Boston: Ticknor & Co. his bed ; but the next morning, the rash inviter A dainty little book--fair, slender, delicate, atwas sure to come, and say, one visit was enough tractive, as the heroine of its touching story. Writfor him, a second such night would drive him ten in hexameters, it has a chassez-ing movement frantic. The niece of the clergyman, who was sion of the pathetic, but before we finish we are
which does not at first seem favorable for the expreshis house-keeper, a good-hearted and religious girl, willing to follow the poet at his own pace. Evanheard of this, and begged her uncle to send her the geline pursuing her rainbow-like lover across the apparition ; he did it from time to time, to have a continent, and through life, to the very gates of night's sleep. The phantom-lady, in all her visits death, is a picture almost too melancholy for pleasto others, kept silence ; no one but the clergyman ure; but Mr. Longfellow has long since proved his ever heard her speak; perhaps, because no one power to draw us as he will, let the subject be what else had the courage to speak to her. But what it may. He modestly calls this a tale ; and leaves
others to decide whether or not it be a poem too. she said to him, he could never be induced to tell. At any rate it is full of poetry—and music, and reliSo stood the matter when we were brought into gion, and all that is pure and good. At another contact with him; as, for aught we know, it stands time we shall make a few extracts.- Christian Ing. to this hour. From other sources we have learned that he often passes his night in the open air, to
CORRESPONDENCE. evade the dreaded visitation, unwilling to lay too heavy a tax on the self-sacrificing affections of his
Gen. Scott.—Should the rumor of an intenniece. At such times, his village-parishioners tion to recall Gen. Scott from the scene of his trioften lie awake till the dawn, listening with a umphs prove to have any foundation, it will inflict heart-clutching fear to the unearthly tones which a pang upon all who can sympathize with the his voice and his guitar conspire to send forth into indignant swelling of a noble heart, ungratefully the shuddering night.
treated ; and it would be likely to make him the next president, were not Gen. Taylor in the field.
Gen. Scott has been so generally found to be NEW BOOKS AND REPRINTS.
right, that we for one will not believe him in the Sparks' WRITINGS OF WASIIINGTON. N. York : wrong, till it be proved. Much as we value the Harper and Brothers.
reputation of Gen. Worth, it is not of equal imThe present is the eighth volume of this valuable portance to that of the commander-in-chief. Bepublication, and contains the correspondence and sides, a court of inquiry has decided that the miscellaneous papers relating to the American rev
subordinate was wrong.
We have seen Colonel olution. And therein do the noble, benevolent, high-toned and clear-sighted qualities of Washing- Duncan's answer to Gen. Scott's general order, ton's mind abundantly appear. Now that the work and think he could not expect to escape the arrest, is published at a price which puts it within the reach which he deliberately, or passionately, provoked. of most persons, we do hope ihis true portraiture of It seems that the breach between Gen. Worth Washington will be closely studied by his country and his commander began previous to the battles
We do not know what more valuable gift an before Mexico ;-and yet how freely, how generAmerican parent could give to his sons than this work.-N. Y. Com. Adv.
ously, does he praise Gen. Worth!
A New York writer, some months ago, speakThe most superB Gift Book of the season, that ing of Gen. Scott, said, “ And if there be a rent in has come to our knowledge, has been prepared, at Cæsar's cloak, remember that it covers Cæsar.” great outlay of time and money, by Messrs. Wiley
Our own affectionate attachment to the character & Putnam ; and in point of national interest, novelty and external beauty surpasses anything of the of Gen. Scott, dates from the time of the trouble kind we have seen from the London press. It is about the “ 'sympathizers," and the north-eastern called “Pearls of American Poetry,” these pearls boundary. It was much owing to him that the being choice selections from the fugitive or occa- peace was not broken with England, on that occasional pieces of the most prominent among our bards sion. He has again shown, in his conduct before —for instance, the “Excelsior” of Longfellow; the city of Mexico, that he preferred the chance of Halleck's exquisite stanzas on Love,” ” and bright gerns from the writings of Bryant and others. peace, to victory. These are printed, most delicately and perfectly, in
To recall Gen. Scott will be a heavy responsilithograph German text, on Bristol board, each page bility upon the administration, which will then being framed by a rich illuminated arabesque border rightly bear the blame of any future disaster.
1. The Widow of Glencoe,
Blackwood's Magazine, . 2. Coincidences. A Tale of Facts,
Fraser's Magazine, 3. Punch,
Punch, 4. European Affairs-(New Irish Peace Bill
Cholera-Wellington on British DefenceBanking Debate-West India Case-Switzerland.)
Spectator, 5. European Summary. 6. Death Bed of Tom Paine,
Roman Catholic Magazine, 7. Johnson on Deviations of Compass,
Spectator, 8. English Hexameters,
Fraser's Magazine, 9. Alison's Life of Marlborough,
Spectator, 10. Fireside Horrors for Christmas,
Dublin University Magazine, .
Prospectus.—This work is conducted in the spirit of now becomes every intelligent American to he informed
and Travels, will be favorite matter for our selections ;
chaf" by providing abundantly for the imagination, and The steamship has brought Europe, Asia, and Africa, by a large collection of Biography, Voyages and Travels, into our neighborhood ; and will greatly multiply our con History, and more solid
matter, we may produce a work nections, as Merchants, Travellers, and Politicians, with which shall be popular, while at the same time it will all parts of the world ; so that much more than ever it aspire to raise the standard of public taste.
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WASHINGTON, 27 Dec., 1345. Of all the Periodical Journals devoted to literature and science which abound in Europe and in this country, this has appeared 10 me to be the most useful. It contains indeed the exposition only of the current literature of the English language, but this by its immense extent and comprehension includes a portraiture of the human mind in the utmost expansion of the present age.
J. Q. ADAMS.
LITTELL'S LIVING AGE.—No. 194.-29 JANUARY, 1848.
that make marshals,” said he" it is victo
ries." THE ELOQUENCE OF THE CAMP-NAPOLEON
On the field of Austerlitz, a young Russian ofBONAPARTE.
ficer, taken prisoner, was brought before himThe sayings of soldiers and those related to them “ Sire,” said the young man, let me be shot! I have been memorable in all ages.
have suffered my guns to be taken.” “Young A Lacedemonian mother, addressing her son man,” said he, “ be consoled! Those who are going to battle, said—“Return living with your conquered by my soldiers, may still have titles to shield, or dead
glory." Xerxes, menacing Leonidas with the overwhelm- When the Duke of Montebello, to whom he ing numbers of his army, said—“Our arrows will was tenderly attached, received a mortal wound obscure the sun." Well,” replied the Spartan, from a cannon ball, Napoleon, then in the meridian "we shall fight all the better in the shade." of his imperial glory, rushed to the litter on which
Commanders have been remarkable for the ready the dying hero was stretched, and embracing him, tact of their improvisations. Cæsar stumbled and and bedewing his forehead with his tears, uttered fell on landing in Africa. He instantly affected these untranslatable words“ Lannes ! me reto kiss the soil, and exclaimed—“Africa! I em- connais tu !-c'est Bonaparte ! c'est ton ami !" brace thee.”
In the Russian campaign he spirited on his When Dessaix received his death-wound at Ma- troops by the assurance— "Soldiers ! Russia is rengo, his last words were—“Go and assure the impelled by fate! Let its destiny be accomFirst Consul that my only regret in leaving life is, plished !” that I have not done enough to be remembered by On the morning of the battle of Moscowa, the posterity."
sun rose with uncommon splendor in an unclouded A drummer, one of whose arms was carried firmament—"Behold !” exclaimed Napoleon to away by a cannon ball at the moment he received his soldiers, “it is the sun of Austerlitz.” an order to beat the “ charge," exclaimed—“I It will be recollected that the battle of Austerhave still one hand left," and beat with the re- litz was commenced at sunrise, and that on that maining hand.
occasion the sun rose with extraordinary splendor. On catching the first sight of the Mamelukes, At Montereau the guns of a battery near his staff drawn up in order of battle on the banks of the were ineffective, owing to having been ill-pointed. Nile, in view of the pyramids, Bonaparte, riding Napoleon dismounted from his charger, and pointed before the ranks, cried—“ Soldiers ! from the them with his own hands, never losing the skill he summits of yonder pyramids forty generations are acquired as an artillery officer. The grenadiers watching you."
of his guard did not conceal their terror at seeing To a troop of artillery which had failed in their the cannon balls of the enemy falling around him, duty, he said —"This flag that you have basely “ Have no fears for me,” he observed, “ the ball deserted shall be placed in the Temple of Mars, destined to kill me has not yet been cast.” covered with crape—your corps is disbanded.” In his celebrated march from Frejus to Paris, on
On hearing the first gun of the enemy at Fried- his return from Elba, one of the regiments at Grenoland, he exclaimed—“Soldiers ! it is an auspicious ble hesitated before declaring for him. He, with day. It is the anniversary of Marengo.” a remarkable instinct, leaped from his horse, and
The fourth regiment of the line on one occasion unbuttoning the breast of the grey surtout he usulost its eagle" What have you done with your ally wore, laid bare his breast—" If there be an eagle?” asked Napoleon. “A regiment that loses individual among you,” said he, “who would deits eagle has lost all. Yes, but I see two stand-sire to kill his general—his emperor— let him fire." ards that you have taken. 'Tis well,” concluded It was, however, in his harangues to the solhe, with a smile—“you shall have another eagle." diers, delivered on the spur of the moment, and
He presented Moreau, on one occasion, with a inspired by the exigency of the occasion, and by magnificent pair of pistols as a cadeau. “I in the circumstances with which he found himself tended," said he, “ to have got the names of your surrounded, that his peculiar excellence as an orvictories engraved upon them, but there was not ator was developed. The same instinct of improvroom for them."
isation which prompted so many of his strategical A sentinel who allowed General Joubert to enter evolutions, was manifested in his language and Napoleon's tent without giving the password was sentiments. At an age, and in the practice of a brought before him—“Go,” said he—“the man profession, in which the resources of the orator are who forced the Tyrol may well force a sentinel.” not usually available or even accessible, he evinced
A general officer, not eminently distinguished, a fertility, a suppleness, and a finesse, which bor ouce solicited a marshal's baton—" It is not I dered on the marvellous, and which, with an CXCIV.
audience not highly informed, might easily pass for other wishes, other ideas, other sentiments—nay, inspiration. What language it were best to use, even other prejudices—have grown up. In the what conduct it were best to pursue, and what days of Napoleon's splendor, military renown was character it were best to assume on each occasion all in all. The revolution had swept away all powhich presented itself, he appeared to know in-litical and almost all geographical landmarks. An stantaneously and instinctively, without consider- undefined future presented itself to all minds. The ation, and without apparent effort of judgment. He marvellous achievements of the French army itself, gained his knowledge from no teacher, for he never led by a boy on the plains, illustrated in other days had a mentor; he gained it not from experience, by Roman glory, heated all imaginations to a point for he had not years. He had it as a gift. It which enabled them to admire what may seem to was a natural instinct. While he captured the border on bombast in the present prevalence of the pontifical cities, and sent the treasures of art intellectual over the imaginative, and of the pracof the Vatican to Paris, he was profoundly rever tical over the poetical. ential to the pope.
Seeking an interview with Let the reader, then, try to transport himself the Archduke Charles, the lieutenant of artillery back to the exciting scenes amidst which Napoleon sprung from the people, met the descendant of the acted and spoke. Cæsars with all the pride of an equal, and all the At six-and-twenty he superseded Sch erer in the elevated courtesy of a high-born chevalier. He command of the army of Italy, surrounded with enforced discipline, honored the arts and sciences, disasters, oppressed with despair, and utterly desprotected religion and property, and respected age titute of every provision necessary for the well-beand sex.
In the city he sacked, he put sentinels ing of the soldier. He fell upon the enemy with at the church doors to prevent the desecration of all the confidence of victory which would have the altar. To set the example of respect for di- been inspired by superior numbers, discipline, and vine things, he commanded his marshals with the equipment. In a fortnight the whole aspect of staffs to attend mass. He managed opinion, and things was changed; and here was his first address twined popular prejudice to the purposes of power. to the army :In Egypt, he would wear the turban and quote the
“ Soldiers !—You have, in fifteen days, gained Koran. His genius for administration was no way six victories, taken twenty-one standards, fifty pieces inferior to his genius for conquest. He could not of cannon, several fortresses, made fifteen hundred brook a superior, even when his rank and position prisoners, and killed or wounded more than ten were subordinate.
ihousand men ! You have equalled the conquerors In his first Italian campaign, as the general of of Holland and the Rhine. Destitute of all necesthe Directory, he treated, not in the name of the saries, you have supplied all your wants. Without directors, but in the name of Bonaparte. He was
cannon, you have gained battles—without bridges,
you have crossed rivers ! - without shoes, you have not merely commander-in-chief of the army-he made forced marches ! --without brandy, and often was its master ; and the army felt this, and the without bread, you have bivouacked ! Republican republican tacitly acknowledged it. The oldest phalanxes, soldiers of liberty, alone could have surgenerals quailed under the eagle-eye of this youth vived what you have suffered! Thanks to you, solof five-and-twenty.
diers !—your grateful country has reason to expect His eloquence of the field has no example in great things of you! You have still battles to fight,
towns to take, rivers to pass. Is there one among - ancient or modern times. His words are not the
you whose courage is relaxed ? Is there one who words of a mortal. They are the announcements would prefer to return to the barren summits of the of an oracle. It is not to the enemies that are Apennines and the Alps, to endure patiently the opposed to him that he speaks, nor do his words insults of these soldier-slaves ? refer to the country he invades. He addresses
“ No !—there is none such among the victors of Europe, and speaks of the world. If he desig- Montenotte, of Millesimo, of Dégo, and of Mondovi ! inates the army he leads, it is THE GRAND ARMY!
My friends, I promise you this glorious conquest;
but be the liberators, and not the scourges IIf he refers to the nation he represents, it is the of the people you subdue !" (GREAT NATION! He blots empires from the map with the dash of his pen, and dots down new king
Such addresses acted on the army with electrical doms with the hilt of his sword. He pronounces effect. Bonaparte had only to walk over northern the fate of dynasties amidst thunder and lightning. Italy, passing from triumph to triumph in that imHis voice is the voice of destiny !
mortal campaign, with a facility and rapidity which To reproduce his higłily figurative language,
resembled the shifting views of a phantasmagoria. after the fever of universal enthusiasm, in the He entered Milan, and there, to swell and stimumidst of which it was uttered, has cooled down, late his legions, he again addressed them :is hazardous. It may seem to border on the 6. You have descended from the summits of the ridiculous. Sublimity itself, when the hearer is Alps like a cataract. Piedmont is delivered. Milan not excited to the proper pitch, does so.
Your banners wave over the fertile ent, after thirty years and upwards of a general plains of Lombardy. You have passed the Po, the peace, the very generation which felt the enthu- aly. Your fathers, your mothers, your wives, your
Tessino, the Adda—those vaunted bulwarks of lisiasm of vietory has nearly passed away, and an- sisters, your betrothed, will exult in your triumphs, other has grown up, all whose aspirations have and will be proud to claim you as their own. Yes, been directed to far different objects. Other wants, soldiers, you have done much, but much more is still