New Orleans daily crescent. [volume] ([New Orleans, La.]) 1851-1866, 1854-05-12

would escape, tripped him over the terrace
back Of the house, and both fell down a steep
embankment Of ten feet. The stranger succeed
ed in disengaging himself, and escaped just as
the family, who had bean aroused by the report
of the pistol which was fred during the struggle
in the house, arrived at the spot
1t is believed that assassination was the OBJ
ject of the intruder. though the affair is involved
in mystery. Mr.. Paine is one of the editors of
the Yankee Blade He had been reading during
the night, and did not retire TO bed until nearly
o'clock. 1t is supposed that the fellow had
been watching the house, and entered as soon
as he thought his victim had fallen asleep
It is worthy of remark, that former con-
duetor of the Yankee Blade, Mr. Matthew'S
was killed gomes years ago, by man by the
name of Coolidge, at Waterville, in Maine. He
was tried, and sentenced to be hung for the
crime. but before execution he was reported to
have died in Jail The warden was subsequently
discharged upon suspicion of having eennived at
his escape, and placed the body Of some dead
man in bis place.
Hazh1f.-Domicile he had not, round whose
hearth his affections might gather rest be had
not, for the sole of his burning foot One chance
Of regalning some peace, chance as he
trusted for a time, was torn from him at the
moment Of gathering its blossoms. He had
been divorced from his wife. Subsequently he
became deeply fascinated by a young woman in
tic Office of superintendencc in a boarding house
kept by her father, but interesting person, and
endowed with strong Intellectual sensibilities.
She had encouraged Hazlitt; had gratifed him
by reading his works with intelligent sympathy
and, under what form of duplieity it is hard to
say, had partly engaged her faith to Hazlitt as
his future wife, while secretly she was holding
a correspondence, too tender to be misinter-
preted, with gentleman resident in the same
establishment. Suspicious were put aside for a
time; but they r,turned, and gathered too
thickly for Hazlitt's penetration to cheat itself
any longer. Once and forever he resolved to
satisfy himself
On Sunday fatal to him and his farewell
hopes of domestic happiness, he had reason to
believe that she whom he now loved TO excess
had made some appointment out of doors with
his rival 1t was in London; and through the
crowds of London, Hazlitt followed her steps to
the rendezvous. Fancying herself lost in the
multitude that streamed through Lincoln's Inn
Field, the treacherous young woman met her
| more favored lover without alarm, and betrayed
too clearly for any further deception, the state
of her affections by the tenderness of her man
ner There went out the last light that threw
guiding ray over the storm vexed course Of
| Hazlitt. He was too much in earnest. and he
| had witnessed too much to be deceived or ap-
| peased g whistled her down the wind
| was his own account of the catastrophe; but IN
| doing so he had torn his own heart-strings en-
| tangled with her jesses.'' Neither did he, as
others have done, seek TO disguise his msfor-
tune. On the contrary; he cared not for the
| ridicue attached to such situation among the
| unfeeing the wrench within had been too pro-
| found to leave for sensibility to the sneers
| outside. a fast friend of his at that time and
| one who never ceased to be his apologist. de-
| scribed him to me as having become absolutely
manacal during the first pressure of his afic-
tion. He went about proclaiming the case, and
| insisting on its detail to all who would listen
| He even published the whole story TO the world,
| in his Modern Pygmalion.'' And people
generally who could not be aware of his feelings,
or the way in which this treachery acted upon
his mind as a ratihcationo of all other treacheres
and wrongs that he had suffered through life,
laughed at him, or expressed disgust for him, as
too coarsely indelicate in making such dis
closures But there was no indelleacy in such
an act of confidence, growing, as It did out of
his lacerated heart. 1t was an explosion of
frenzy. He threw out his elamorous anguish TO
the clouds, and to the winds, and to the air,
caring not aeho might listen, Dh0 might sympa-
J thize, or acho might sneer. Pity was 10 demand
of his; laughter was no wrong; the sole ne
cessity for him was to empty hi oyerburdened
} spirit. After this desolating experience the
! evaporation of Hazlitts political temper grew
tiereer, darker, steader. His g Life of Napoleon"
! was prosecuted subsequently to this.and perhaps
under this remembrance, as reservoir that
might receive all the vast overhows of his wrath,
much of which was not merely political, or n q
spirit of bacchanalion partnership, but was eV2H
morbidly anti-social He hated, withaan Lis
heart, every institution of man. ind all his pre-
!, tensions. He loathed his own relation to the
human race. [De Quincy.
| \ DICKENS CLAPPERGIAWED BY LADY BULwER.
0 Lady Bulwer has just written a new novel,
g Behind the Scenes,' which is one ofgthe ter
4 magant kind she delights in. There is q great
, deal of portraiture in the work.
Lady Bulwer, not content with using her
$ nails upon Sir Edward exercises that womanly
e prerogative upon his friends. and wethave, ac-
cordipgly, some sharply scratched sketches of
several literary celebrities.
e D'Israeli comes in for his share of the angry
Q womans tongue. And every one will recognize
e in Carlo Dials no less parsonage than
DICKENS II
/ ssWhen Tresylian entered, he was showind
his very fine teeth in loud laugh, at soma
triad that had fallen from Mr.. Bernaraby about
Cheops, plum-pudding and the corn laws while
opposite to him sat, as if not quite at his ease on
so fine chair and in so aristocratic a room, a
Mr.. Carlo Dals, another star in the literary
hemisphere, who, having graduated about the
, streets, his pare pictures were unsurpassed he
had obtained the s0u6riquet of the Aldgate
Aristophanes-the pot-house Putarch would
}, have been more appropriate. Like the rest of
redeem by printed morality and philanthropic
T fine sentiments, the praetieed immortality of his
own life and the arid absence of all good feeling
He was not agreeable in society, as he always,
like the besgars, appeared to be keeping any
stray good thing that he might chance to pick
up, till he got home, when it was duly booked !
or it might be that his hair, of which he had an
immense profusien, overlaid his brains, aud thai
that made him appear stupid
FEMALE SocIErY.-You know my opinion OF
female society. Without it we should aegener-
ate into brutes. This observation applies with
{ tenfold force to young men and those who are in
The prime of manhood. For, after a certain time
Of life, the literary man may make shift, a.
poor one grant,) to do without the society OF
] ladies. To young man nothing is 50 important
as spirit of devotion (next to his Creators 70
t some amiable woman, whose image may occupy
. his heart, and guard it from pellutouss which
hesets it on all sides A man ought e choose
his wife, as Mrs Primrose did her Wedding gown.
for qualities that z wear we'll t'ne thinssae
least, is true, that if matrimony has rs cares
n celibacy has no pleasure. Newton or 2 mere
!, scholar may find employment IN study man
= = of literary taste can receive in books powerful
, : auxiliary hut man must have besom friend,
= and children round him, to cherish and support
y | - az r ahn f,h