Middlesbrough & Stockton Gazette and General Advertiser. — 1871-12-21 (Stockton-on-Tees, Durham, England)

STRANGE SUICIDE IN PARIS.  The Paris correspondent of the Daily Newe writes as follows :—Au unfortunate child of genius, Monsieur T. C. Regnante, well known as the inventor of a new inetlml of engraving on steel, has relieved himself of the sorrows of this world by corn. mitting suicide in a wretched garret in the Place Leuvoia. Poor as he was, it was not poverty which drove him to self-destruction, for he had lung been accustomed to look misery cheerfully in the face. He had a favourite dog, who died a natural death in his arms on Saturday last. He had often said that this dog, named Cherie, was his only friend, and that he would never survive it. He was as good as his word. This is no newspaper fable. have ascertained the truth of the sad story from poor Regnault's most intimate friend (it was la misanthropic delusion which led him to say he had no friends), and from personal recollection of him I can quite understand his courting death as he did. Regnault brought out a serial containing exquisite engravings of historical women in France. He made an encouraging sum of monoy by a portmit of Victor Noir, immediately after his assassination by Prince l'ierre Bonaparte. When war was declared against Prussia last year he left Paris for England, because his principles did not allow him to shed blood, and he refused to serve in the National Guard. He paid extra for the passage of his dog, a very big one, in the railway, and arrived, with scarcely a shilling in his packet, in London. There, for a short time, thanks to letters of introduction with which he was furnished, he gained a precarious living by giving drawing lessons. In the autumn of last year he turned up at Tours—always with his dog. There I saw hint. Knowing how distressed he was, I encouraged him to drop in at my lodgings at supper-time, but he was so proud that it was difficult to persuade him to eat. He would, however, ask for something for his dog. The dog was fat, and he was lean—so lean that he might have played the apothecary in Romeo and Juliet without any making up. Specimens of his best engravings were displayed in a shop of the High-street of Tours, but at that anxious time there was no market for any such wares. His only means of subsistence were two francs a day, which he got at the office of the Moniteur, for writing the addresses of subscribers on little strips cf paper when the journal was folded for the post. One day in November, 1870, he found means, probably by his acquaintance with the printers in the Mositeur office, lo issue a flaming prospectus shoat a balloon of his invention, which he said would be the saving of the country, because it would carry into Paris, over the heads of the Prussian besiegere, 60 but. , locks at a time. The ratiocination by which he sought to prove the practicability of his inxention ' was evidently the work of a disordered brain. He sent a proof of the prospectus to a lady who had been of some use to him by Introductions to London, and said he desired to have her name at the head of a subscription which he was sure would.become universal. Thislady, not wishing toconnect her name with a mad project, but knowing that Regnault was on the verge of starvation, recommended him to-get some person of more scientific authority to head 'hie list, and, while not presuming to patronise his invention, begged to offer five francs towards the expense of printing. Begnault returned the five francs, in a bitterly-worded letter, saying that after this check he was disheartened, and had no hope in his project. Nothing more was ever heard of it, and I believe that charitablyoffered five francs which he would not take, was tl • only subscription he ever received. What became of him duringthe last year I do not know. But during one of the most intensely cold days of this prematurely cold winter his dog died. In the wretched lodging, which it is wonderful that he .should have found means to pay the rent of for many years, he was found dead, with the corpse of his dog in his arms. Stiffly clasped between his thumb and forefinger, a phial containing arsenic was found. A paper on his table recapitulated what he had before said to friends, that he had long made up his mind not to survive his dog. Another paper stated that the first dose of poison ho had taken was insufficient, but that he was about te swallow another which could not fail. Fels de se can never be the verdict upon poor philanthropic, amiable ltegnault. He was beyond all doubt no* compos,  THE QUEEN OF HANOVER AND THE itOMAN