The mountain sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1844-1853, 1849-11-01

had driven every calm and good thought
from his head, and then he dared quietly
proceed to carry out his dreadful and des-
perate intent. He closed carefully the
window, stuffed his mattress up the chin
ney, and with paper stopped every ap-
perture where air could enter. Then he
drew forth his parcel of charcoal and "a
burner, and lit it. Thus had this wretch
ed man determined to end his sufferings.
He made one last effort, and now in a SOL
tary dismal garret, he laid him down 10
die; and poverty and misery, genius and
death, were huddled close together.
Meanwhile, amid blaze of light, the
evenings amusements had begun at the
theatre. A new opera from Paris was to
be played, and the prima donna was the
young, lovely, and worshipped Claudine,
the Jenny Lind of that time and place.
The house was crowded, and the first act
succeeded beyond all expectation, the au-
dience were in ecstacy.
sShe is a jewell said M. Dupont, who
from private box, admired the great sup
porter of his theatre. A roar of applause
from the pit delighted at this instant the
good mans ears. Claudine, called before
the curtain was bowing to the AUDIENCE
has signed to the orchestra to Llay. She is
aboutto show her gratitude to the audience
in verse. M. Dupont rubs his hands, and
repeats twice between his teeth, She is a
jewell But with ease and ra pidity the
band has commenced playing upon an un-
known air, and the next instant NJ. Dupont
is standing up with strange and wild look.
flushed and still was every breath; the
audience looked at each other; not a word
of communication takes place; men shud-
der, or rather tremble with emotion. But
the first stanza is ended; and then frantic
shout, starting of all to their feet, wild
shrek of delight, thousand voices thun-
dering the chorus, shows how that song
has electrified them.
M. Dupont frowned, for the air and
song were not new to him: it was the Song
of the Army OF the Rhine he had refused
that morning! But Claudine proceeds;
again the audience is hushed in death-like
silence: while the musicians. ronsed to an
unusual degree of enthusiasm, played ad-
mirably; and Claudine, singing with all
the purity, feeling and energy of her ad-
mirable voice, plunged heI eyes into every
corner Of the house-in vain. At each
came greater, the anxiety of the singer
and never did applause more hearty, more
tremendous, more uproarious, greet the
voice of the public songstress. The ex-
citable population of Marseilles seemed
mad.
When silence was restored, Claudine
spoke: .Citoyens and citoyennes!' she
exclaimed-'this song is both written and
composed by young and unknown man,
who has sought in vain to put his compo-
sitions before the public. Every body has
refused him. For myself, thought this
the greatest musical effort ofmodern times;
and as such practised it to-day; and, un-
known to manager or author, and the
band prepared this surprise. But the au-
thor is not here. Poor and despairing, he
is at home lamenting his unappreciated
efforts! Let us awake him; let him learn
that the generous people of Marseilles can
understand and feel great music. Come!
| let all who have hearts follow me, and
| Claudine, stepping across the orchestra,
landed in the pit, and, bare-headed, light
dressed as she was, rushed towards the
door, followed by every spectator and mu-
sician, who, however, put on their hats.
and even threw cloak and cap on the ex-
cited and generous young songstress.
Meanwhile the composers dreadful re-
solve was being carried out. The horrid
fumes OF the charcoal filled the room:
soon they began to consume and exhaust
the pure air, and the wretched youth fell
all the pangs of coming death. Hunger
exhaustion and despair kindIed kind OF
madness in his brain. Wild shapes danced
around him: his many songs seemed sung
altogether by coarse, husky voices, thai
made their sound punishment; and then
the foul atmosphere depressing his chest
darkening his vision, his room seemed ten
anted by myriads of Internal and deformed
beings. Then again he closed his eyes
soft memory stealing in upon him showed
him happy visions of his youth, of his
mother, of love, and hope, and Joy; O.
green fields, and the murmuring brooks
which had first revealed melody into hi.
soul; and the young man thought tina
death must come, and that he was on the
threshold of a better world.
But an awful shout, tremendous clam
or burst upon his ear: thousand voice
roar beneath his window The youne
man starts from his dream; what is this h
hears!
AUX armes? citoyens,
Forncz vos battaIlIons,1 &c