Staunton spectator, and general advertiser. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 183?-1849, 1848-02-09
nj ISCELLAN Y.
FROM BLACKwooD's MAGAZINE.
CURIOUS VISITATION OF FORTUNE.

In very amusing collection of French anec
dotes, there is good story told of caprcious Wis
itation of Fortune, which came where Fortune
does not often play her mo- Unable ,ricls-to
miserable poet, releasing him at from poverty
and his jaded muse We regret to be obliged to
tell the story from memory. We ought to have
preserved the book, if only out of gratitude-or it
was the most pleasant travelling companion, the
best fellowship for diligence or steamboat we re-
MEMBER to have encountered. But the market
price Of the small paper-bound volume (such was
the shape in which it came to us) was so little
1t being one of those editions which the journalists
on the continent often print to distribute gratis to
the subscribers to their ournals-that pains were
taken to preserve it, Very absurd We print
books so cheap that the book loses half its value
il is bought and not read read once, thrown a
side, or destroyed.
Poor Dubois Of that unhappy class
which we are given TO understand is dying out of
Europe, 1--WE hope for the sake Of suffering human
ity that this is true y of that class which we in
England used to call Grubstreet poets. He flour
ished at the time of the empire, and had been flour.
ishing during the whole of the eventful period that
preceded the elevation of Napoleon Poor Dubois
had alternately applauded and satrized all parties,
and written strong for all sentiments; but had ex-
tracted very little either of praise or pocket money
from any Of the regning powers, whether republi-
can or imperial. He was quite in despair.-Still
young in years, but with worn out rhymes, he was
lamentlng one day to his sister his melancholy and
hopeless fate. This damsel was in the service of
Pauline. the sister OF Napoleon. ''Wrte me a
sonnet" said she, ''about Pauline and about beau
ty, and let me try what can do" beautiful!
sonnet and sonnet about beauty are two very DIFF.
ferent things. Dubois made nothing of his task.
but did it out of hand, and his sister took the SON
net with her.
1t was not long before she had an opportunity
In her capacity of femme dc chapibre, of speaking
to Pauline about her brother poet. She produced
her sonnet about beauty Pauline did not exactly
read it, no one but the writer, and afflicted friends
and those heroic souls who do things to say they
have done them, ever do read sonnets; but she
glanced her eye down the rhymes, and saw her
own name in harmonious connection with some
very sweet eptfets. Therefore she asked what
she could do for the poet-what it was he wanted ?
Alas! everything, was the prompt reply-some
little post, some modest appointment.
Now it happened that Fouche at that time was
doing his best to conciliate the fair Pauline, who
with or without reason, had shown little humor
against the minister of police. He had frequently
entreated her to make use Of his power in favor of
any Of her friends "WelI," said the good -natur-
ed Pauline, "Fouche is always plaguing me to ask
for something; give me my desk"
Iady's pen upon the smooth vellum, you know
how fieetly 1t runs, and what pretty exaggeration
of phrase must necessarily flow from it. The
style, the very elegance of the note demands it
Dubois was in an instant and most charmingly con-
yerted into man of neglected genius and unmer-
ited distress. What was the happy turn Of ex-
preston is lost to us forever but as Fouche read
the note he understood that there was man of ia
lent to be assisted, and what was still more to the
purpose, an opportunity Of showing his gallantry
to Pauline.
The next day the minister rode forth in state ac-
companied by four mounted gems d'ameS Follow
ing the address which had been given him, he
found himself in one of the least inviting parts Of
Paris, far better known 10 his own myrmidons of
police than to himself. But arrived before the C.
noruous pile of old buildings which was said TO
enclose our poet, amidst the swarns Of tenants he
made vain inquiries for Monsieur Dubois AT last
an old crone came to his assistance she remember
ed him, she had washed for him and had never
been paid If you do not wish to be forgotten by
all the world, take care there is some living to
whom you are in debt.
Meanwhile Dubois, from his aerial habitaton,
mad heard his own name pronounced, and looking
out the window caught sight the gems dGrmcS.
For which of his satres or libels he was TO under
go the honor Of prosecution he could not divine
but that his poetica illusions at last to bring
him into haplesS notorety, was the only conclusion
he could arrive at. That he was still perfectly
safe, inasmucb as write what he would nobody
read, was the last idea likely to suggest itself to
the poet. He would have rushed down stairs, but
steps were heard ascending. So much furniture as
cupboad, the bare walls of his solitary room did
not display. There was nothing for him to lear
into but what he called his bed and hide beneath
his blankets, always presuming they were long G.
nough 10 cover both extremities at once. The
minister, undeterred by the difficulties Of the as
cent, and animated by his gallantry towards Pau
line, continued to mount, and at length entered the
poets retreat. Great are the eccen,ricities of &C
Mus and lamentabe the resources Of pride and pow
etty, though. Fouche, as he gently drew the blank