paradox; and in fact, when the Manchester rail road was projected, it was supposed that its rapid and cheap communication would supersede letters. Experience showed the reverse; and in 1841 one-fourth of the whole correspondence of the United Kingdom was carried over the Birmingham rail road. The extension of rail roads in England has eminently promoted the increase of correspondence. In the United States similar results must follow the increased facilities of intercourse, and aid the development of the resources of the department. It would seem, however, while the English people write so many more letters, those of the United States read by far the greater number of papers. According to the report of the Committee of the House of Commons, there were 44,500,000 newspapers passed through the post office. The late report of the Post-Master General states the number at 55,000,000 which were mailed in the United States for the past year. It would seem from this, that by reason of the stamp, and the high price of newspapers in Great Britain, that letters are to some extent substituted. In the United States the reverse has been the case, viz., papers have been very cheap and letters very dear. Hence the community have derived the habit of writing on the margin of newspapers, by which means distant friends communicate news and exchange salutations. This is a practice exceedingly difficult to detect, and yet very prevalent, particularly in the New-England States. It is a matter of utter impossibility that any portion of 55,000,000 papers in wrappers can be opened and examined; and if possible, it would be to no purpose. The person who sent it cannot be known, and he to whom it is directed cannot be made liable. To stop the paper is to lose its postage. The government itself has, to some extent, encouraged this practice, by permitting newspaper publishers to inclose their bills in newspapers in order to save letter postage, being a kind of bonus to newspapers not extended to periodicals or any other business. The regulation requiring drop newspapers to be prepaid, has possibly some effect in checking this practice, but it can probably be eradicated only by a still greater reduction in rates.

VERSES.

OFTENER have I been seen in funeral train,
Than at the nuptial or baptismal fete ;
From many loving hearts I've chased the pain,
That they themselves would fondly aggravate.

Richly, O God! by thee have I been blessed,
Nor power nor wisdom falling to my lot:
A fund of gaiety have I possessed,

That sorrow's mourning spirit injured not.

A HALT.

FROM THE FRENCH.

Ir is, in truth, an admirable spectacle, that which presents itself to the eyes of the traveller, when having reached the extremity of La Ferté, he beholds before him the little valley of Vizille, with its pebbly torrent, its verdant meadows, and its retired nooks, which extend afar to a horizon bounded by the mountains, that close on all sides the roads from France to Italy. Vizille is incrusted, as it were, in the middle of this valley; its greyish houses are suspended upon the border of the Romanche, whose waters dash noisily against the piles of rock and the huge trunks of oaks, which rise at the foot of the mountains. On the left appears a magnificent chateau, which seems to protect the petty dwellings which surround it.

On the eighth of March, 1815, two men were seated in one of these small houses. They were discoursing together, while a young girl filled their glasses with the common wine of the country; one of them was an old man, half paralytic, the other, a true specimen of those warlike mountaineers who have been seen in the heat of battle, whether beneath the burning sun of Egypt, or upon the ice of the Beresina.

"You say, father, that he will not return. He is the man to try it. Does he not know that the Restoration has restored us nothing, and that, without him, there is no more honor, no more glory in France! And has God decreed that our fair country should be governed by a king who cannot march, and by five or six obstinate old heads, who understand nothing of the trade? But he! oh, he! that is another matter! he marched as quick with his legs as with his eyes, and when he said to us, 'at noon you will fight; at six all will be finished, and then you will repose,' why, at five and three-quarters the enemy were routed; it was quick work then. Well, well, go and tell Madame Restoration to do as much. Ha! ha! she will take a year to make up her mind, two to take a step, and at the moment for beating the charge, she will be fast asleep, or she will turn and run a second time. You know, father, she has good legs for that."

"It is madness, my boy, madness! They hold him fast, and he will not escape from the island of Elba. The curate has told me that he is guarded by Russian, Prussian, Austrian and French gend'armes."

"The French will never serve as gend'armes to watch their emperor, and in such bad company, besides. As for the little corporal, he may perhaps say some fine morning, "I will remain here no longer-I will no longer see them devour France; I have not fought a hundred battles that they should teach my guard to hear mass. Then there will be no more a Napoleon in the island of Elba, than a Madame Restoration in the palace of the Tuilleries twenty-four hours after."

As he said this, Raymond's face (this was the name of the mountain soldier,) assumed an expression almost fearful; his eyes flashed fire, and his nails were imprinted in his flesh, as he struck his clenched hand upon the table.

The old man of La Ferté looked upon his son with an air of pride. He loved to hear him recount his deeds of arms: but had acquired the habit

of perpetually contradicting him, in order to bring out more openly the feelings of his heart. Accordingly, he rose from the table, shrugging his shoulders, and cried to his son, as if uttering an anathema:

"And I tell you that he will not return!"

"Sacrista! father, if it were another than yourself who had the audacity to hold such discourse in my presence, I would break my glass against his face, thus !"

And the glass, hurled violently against the wall, was dashed into a thousand fragments. But Raymond at once held out his hand to his father, and said:

"I did not mean to insult you; I know the respect that I owe you,—I am a dutiful son. But when I hear some things I cannot control myself. Stay, do not say anything more to me of that sort; for, do you see, he has clasped my hand at Marengo, has tapped my cheek with his right hand at Jena, has pulled me by the ear with his left at Wagram. Father, I shall see him again; we shall meet again; here, here in my heart there is a hope which whispers to me, Raymond, have courage !'"

At this moment, while the eyes of the mountaineer were suffused with tears, the door was opened, and Napoleon appeared upon the threshold ; then, with that clear voice which echoed so thrillingly in the hearts of the brave, he said, placing his hand to his small chapeau :

My friends, your emperor demands of you a moment's hospitality for himself and his train. The north wind is blowing; it is an ill time to

descend the mountain."

A cry of surprise was the sole answer of the old man and his son. The former was obliged to lean against the wall to prevent himself from falling; the latter stretched his arms toward heaven, and would have cried, "Vive l'Empereur!" but his voice failed him, and he remained motionless, with open mouth.

After having gazed for a moment at this scene, Napoleon reached his hand to Raymond, and said:

"We are old acquaintances."

"It is true, sire," replied Raymond, with a faltering voice.

"You were wounded at Moscow ?"

"It was nothing; it was for you, sire. They have been doing fine things since you went to repose awhile at the island of Elba; but now that you are here-"

Napoleon turned to several officers who had followed him, and said, in a tone of satisfaction:

"They have tried in vain; they have not been able to pervert the army."

Raymond exclaimed: "You will find us all the same, my emperor, I

answer for it!"

The mild warmth of spring had succeeded to the chill north wind. Napoleon was preparing to continue his journey, when turning towards Raymond, he said:

You will not leave your father. He is old, he has need of you. I was wrong to forget you, but so many of you were brave, that it was difficult to remember all. Here is the cross of honor, you have deserved it."

"Pardon me sire, but I cannot accept it."

"How?" cried the emperor, and his face darkened.

"When I have had the honor to escort you to the Tuilleries, then, sire,

it will be time."

"You are a brave fellow; come, then, since you wish it, I will take care of your father."

"Thanks!" cried the old man, "Raymond will do his duty."

'Oh, yes, my emperor, if I return, why, we shall have routed them, these allies; if I do not return, why, I shall have died upon the field of battle."

Upon the road, Raymond had advanced in front of the train to head the march, uttering frenzied cries of "vive l'empereur!" and gathering around him a little army of mountaineers, who were enraptured at the return of their great emperor.

Napoleon pursued his journey amid this crowd, his head erect, gazing at times at the steep mountains, the gloomy forests; measuring space with his eagle glance, and often passing his hand across his brow, as if to dispel the thoughts which thronged upon his mind. He appeared swayed by that force of circumstances which some call Destiny, and others Providence; he appeared still wavering in terrible doubt. Still they kept advancing; the shouts of joy grew louder and more frequent, and the mountain echoes repeated the name of the emperor.

At Vizille, the conqueror at Austerlitz was welcomed with universal acclamations. Every house was decorated with tri-colored flags. On the summit of the mountain which he was about to cross, shone the weapons of the guides; the neighing of impatient steeds was mingled with the cries of joy. Raymond, intoxicated with delight, rushed to Napoleon's feet, and cried:

"You see, my emperor, these likewise have not forgotten you! They all come to meet you."

A few moments after their glances fell upon the valley of Dauphiny, they could distinguish the white standard which floated upon the ramparts of Grenoble, contrasting strangely with the smoky turrets of Notre Dame. The Izere, like a serpent lying amid the verdant grass, seemed to stretch its head toward Savoy, and to bend its sinuous body toward the Rhone. A few regiments were drawn up in order of battle upon the ramparts of the city of Bayard; the heavy cavalry and the light horse formed a circle round the faubourg of Saint Laurent. Silence at once prevailed about the emperor; the mountaineers alone continued to wave their caps, repeating, impatiently, their joyous strains; for these, with their rude good sense, had divined the temper of France, and had actually estimated her sympathies.

On this side of a little bridge, between Aybain and Grenoble, a royalist, at the head of a small band, flourished a cocked pistol, and cried furiously, "Down with the Corsican! down with the tyrant! He shall not cross this bridge except over my body."

Raymond soon found himself face to face with the man who uttered this hostile cry; his eyes flashed like those of a tiger when chased across the sands of the desert by African hunters. The royalist turned pale, the pistol fell from his trembling hands, and he concealed himself quickly beneath the bridge; the emperor crossed it, borne on by the crowd which thronged from every road.

At Grenoble he was received with the same enthusiasm.*

On the day following his arrival at Mâcon, the emperor received the congratulations of the National Guard and municipal corps. One of the mayor's colleagues thought it his duty to speak on the occasion, and pronounced a long harangue, which, more than once, excited the hilarity of those present, and of Napoleon him-elf. The orator did not allow himself to be disconcerted, however. He poured forth his bombast without omitting a single word. When he had finished, Napoleon said to him:

"You were greatly astonished, then, when you heard of my landing?"

"Ah, parbleu! yes," replied the colleague; "when I heard that you had landed, I said to every body here, this man must be mad; he will not escape!"

Napoleon could not help laughing at his simplicity; then, with a pleasant air, he dismissed the assembly and its grotesque orator.

We will leave to history the care of tracing this memorable journey, this conquest, so glorious and so rapid, of a sovereign so dear to the country-a conquest that cost not a single tear, and that gave to France a hope, which unhappily expired at Waterloo. Is is here that we will meet our faithful Raymond once more.

After having fought like a true soldier of the Old Guard, he fell some moments before the famous reply of Cambronne. The battalion of escort, in retreating, gave him a glimpse of the emperor. A last cry of "vive l'empereur!" was heard, a cry as energetic as that which welcomed Napoleon in the cottage of La Ferté. Napoleon paused, and fixing a melancholy glance upon the brave soldier,

"My friend," he said to him, "there is no longer an emperor."

At hearing these words, Raymond brought his hand to his heart, as if to protest against this decree-then he expired.

POLITICAL PORTRAITS WITH PEN AND PENCIL.

CHARLES H. HASWELL.

We have heretofore confined our portraits to eminent party leaders, but now include, in the person of the chief government engineer, a representation of the mechanical profession. In this age of steam, there is no class of men who exercise a more extensive influence on the condition and destinies of their race, than that of our engineers. Rail-roads intersecting, not kingdoms and states merely, but continents-not to say hemispheres, and lines of steam-ships, bringing remote quarters of the globe into immediate intercourse and connection, making new elements altogether of time and distance; revolutionizing the fortunes of nations, and changing even the character of the individuals who compose them-all this is the work of mechanical science, and renders its ministers and disciples the class which, above all others, has given its form and pressure to the age.

Occupying a place of the highest distinction among his profession in this country, the subject of our present sketch deserves a more extended notice than our imperfect materials will enable us to furnish. CHARLES H. HASWELL, engineer-in-chief of the navy of the United States, was born in the city of New-York, in the year 1809, and there received a classical education, with a view to ultimate professional pursuits. At an early period, however, his attention was directed to mechanical science, and at the age of fourteen, with no other aid than was to be derived from very limited opportunities of observation, constructed the working model of a steam engine. The decided tendency of his mind to these pursuits, naturally attracted the attention of his friends, and gave direction to his future career. In 1828, at the earnest solicitation of his friends, he entered the establishment of JAMES P. ALLAIRE, so widely known as the constructor of all descriptions of steam machinery. Here he made rapid attainments in the practical details of his profession, and in 1836, he was selected to superintend the construction of the engines and boilers of the United States Steamer Fulton, then on the stocks, waiting to receive her machinery.