The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1869-09-02
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was here that the brave able wrote a book
with his own blood; with pen made of a
piece OF iron hoop and by the light Of lamp
made out of shreds of cloth soaked in grease
obtained from his food and then dug through
the thicE wall with some triiling instrument
which he wrought himself ont Of q stray piece
of iron or table cutlery, and freed Dantes
from his chains. 1t a pity that so many
weeks of drcary labor should have come to
naught at last.
They showed us the noisomc cell where the
celebrated Iron Mask''-that ill-starred
brother Of a hard-hearted king of France
was confined for a season, before he went to
lhde the strange mystery of his life from the
curious III the dungeons OF st. Marguerite.
he place had a tar.grcator interest for us
than it could have had if we had known be-
You'd all question who the Iron Mask was,
and what his history had been, and why this
most unusual punishment had been melted
out to him My>tery' That was the charm.
That speeches. tongue, those prisoned
features, that heart so treighted with I'M
,pohcn troubles, and that breast SO oppressed
with its piteous secret, had been here. These
dark walls had known the man whose dolor-
ous story is sealed book forever. There
WAS fascination in the spot.
VENICE.
| began to feel that the old Venice of song
and story had departed forever. But was
too haSty. In a few minutes we swept grace
fully out into the Grand Canal and under the
mellow moonlight the Venice of poetry and
romance stood revealed. Right from the
waters edge rose long lines of stately palaces
oi marble; gondolas We're gliding swiftly
hitLer and thither and disappearing suddenly
through unsupported gates and alleys; pom
dcrouS stone bridges threw their shadows
athWah the glittering waves There was
life and motion everywhere, and yet every
where there was hush, a stealthy sort of
Stiffness, that was suggestive Of a secret en-
terprse OF bravoes and of lovers and clad
half i'll moonbcams and half in mysterious
shadows, the grim old mansions of the Re-
public seemed to have an expression about
them of having an eye out for Just such en-
terprises these at that same moment. Mu-
sic came floating over the watcrs-Venice
WAS complete.
Ii was Il beautiful picture-very soft and
dreamy and beautiful. But what was this
Venice to compare with the Venice Of moon
light Nothing There was a fete-a grand
tete i'll honor Of some saint who had been in
strumental in checking the cholera three hum
dred years ago, and all Venice was abroad
on the water. 1t was no common affair, for
the Ecnetians did not know how soon they
n,
the cholera was spreading every where So
III one vast >pace-say a third of mile wide
and two miles Iong-were collected two thou
sand gondoas, and every one Of them had
from two to ten twenty and even thirty color
al lanterns suspended about it, and from four
t. dozen occupants. just as far as the eye
could reach, these painted lights were massed
togtthcr-likc a vast garden Of manv-color- |
ed flowers, except that these blossoms We're !
never still; they were carelesslv gliding in !
and out, and minglng together, and seduc- |
ING you into hewldering attempts to follow |
their may ey0lutions. Here and there a |
strong red. green, or blue glare from rock |
ct that was struggling to get away. sple- |
didlY Illuminated all the boats around it. |
tycrE gondoIa that swan by us. with its |
crescrnts and pyramids and circles of color
cd lamps hung alott, and lighting UP the |
faces of the Young and the sweet-scented and |
lovely below, was q picture and the rehcc- |
mons 81 those lights, so long, so slender so |
l1lnberlcss, 50 manycolored and so distort- I
cd and WrinAled by the waves, was picture
likewise, and one that was enchantinglv !
beautiful. Many and manga party of Young !
ladies and gentlemen had their state gondolaS
handsomely decorated, and ate supper on |
board, bringing their swallow tailed, white j
rraVatted varlets to wait upon them, and
having their tables tricled out as if for a |
bridal supper. They had brought along the
costly globe lamps from their drawing rooms, |
and the lace and silken curtains from the |
same places, | suppose. And they had also
brought pianos and guitars, and they PLAYED |
and sang operas, while the plebian paper
lAntcrncd gondolaS from the suburbs and |
the back alleys crowded around to stare and |
listen.
EGYPT. TIE SPHINX.
After years Of waiting it was before me at |
last. The great face was so sad, so earnest, |
So longing. SO patient. There was dignity |
not Of earth in its mlen. and in its counte- !
nance a benignity such as never any thing hui !
man wore Il was stone, but it seemed SEN
tment. If ever image Of stone thought it
was thinking. 1t was looking toward the
verge oi The landscape, yet looking at moth
lnG-nothing but distance and vacancy I'll
was looking over and beyond every thing of
The present, and far into the past 1t was
gazing out over the ocean of Time-over
lines Of century which, further and
further rcceding, closed nearer and nearer
together, and blended at last into one IN
broken tide, away toward the horizon of re-
mote antiquity. 1t was thinking of the wars
OF departed ages; Of the nations whose birth
It had witnessed, whose progress it had
watched, whose humiliation it had noted
OF the JOY and sorrow, the life and death, the
grandeur and decay, Of five thousand slow
revolving years. 1t was the type of ar at
tribute of man-of faculty of his heart and
brain. 1t was MEMopY-RETRospECT1
wrought into visible tangible form All
who know what pathos there is in memories
Of days that are accomplished and faces that
have vanished-albeit only trifling score of
years gone by-will have some appreciation
of the pathos that dwels in these grave ewes
that look 50 steadfastly back upon the things
they knew before History was born-before
Tradition had being--things that were, and
forms that moved, in vague era which even
Poetry and Romance scarce know of-and
passed one by one away and left the stony
dreamer solitary in the midst of a strange
new age, and uncomprehended scenes.
The SphynX is grand in its loneliness it
is imposing in its magnitude it is impressive
in the mystery that hangs over it's story.
And there is that in the overshadowing ma
iesty Of this eternal figure of stone, which its
accusing memory Of the deeds of all ages,
which reveals to one something of what he
shall feel when he shall stand at last in the
awful pres encc OF God.
The work is destined to be widely read and
greatly admired. 1t is issued only to SUBJ
scribers by authorized agents, appointed by
the publishers.
We have also received from the same pub