in @‘chuld.

.. ,t.‘1!... I . VdLs VTO {SHE fiERifliflB Plllt‘l'lb AID ruausasn IVIII wnnxuwar IOIIIIO It ED WARD REILLY.

Intron AND tutor-inflow. at his Office. Queen Street.

mi...

.‘m.

‘l‘llttll you run “HERALD.”

1 er. aid in advance. £0 9 0 y: p“ half-yourlyiusdvanee,010 0

aun—

For 0.

Advertisement» inserted at the usual rates. JOB PRINTINC} of every description. performed with neatncss and despatch and on moderate terms. at the IIIIALD Office.

‘— M -

WU'ALMANACK FOR FEBRUARY. '00! I PHASBS.

First Quarter, 1st day, 2h. 3m., oven., \V.

Full Moon, 8th day, 7h. 22m. morn., E.

Last Quarter. 15th day, 7h. 4m., moru., E.

New Moou.23rd day, 10h. 7m., mom, S.

.. run.

’1 amt High Moou’g " 23 1 on walls. a " n I riasslseta Water sets.,u ; “W,” (h m‘h mh mlhmh. m

I Saturday ‘7 29,4 59 4 2i 0 99 30

2 Sunday 285 1 5 2 1 14: 33

3 Monday 26 ‘2 6 8 2 22, 36

4 Tuesday 25, 3 7 4' 3 28 38

5 \Veduesday 24‘ 4. s 15, 4 29] 40

6 Thursday 22' 6; 9 18, 5 29 44

7 Friday 21 8,10 2o riacsl 47

8 Saturday 19 9111 16 6 2‘ 50,

9 Sunday 18, micron. , 7 17 53;

10 Monday 16; 13 0 36, 8 2510 57

it Tuesday 14- ml 1 432 9 351 1

12 Wednesday 12" 17. 2 1810 42: 5

18 Thursday 11‘ 18; 3 5,11 451 7

14 Friday 10 19, 4 2‘morn.3 9 15 Saturday 9 20, 4 48, 0 46' 11

16 Sunday 7 22. 5 501 l 48* 15 11 Monday 6, 23‘, 6 50, 2 4‘2 17

18 Tuesday I 4 2i 7 42; 3 33! 20 19 Wednesday 1 3 26' s as, 4 20‘ 23 20 Thursday ~ I 27‘ 9 2t 4 55‘ 26 21. Friday 6 59 29.10 6I 5 44, 30 22 Saturday 58 3110 Hi 6 18, 33 23 Sunday 56 3211 25? sets 1 36 24 Monday ' 54 33 moru.l 6 57, 39‘ 25 Tuesday 52 35 0 2‘ 7 58‘ (3; 26 Wednesday 50. 37, 1 30, 9 0 47‘ 21 Thursday 48 as, 1 19.10 31 not 28 Friday 46 89 2 2,11 6 61‘ 29 Saturday 44 t1, 2 still 59 52

13rices Current. Cusanorrarowu. January 31, 1808. Provuions.

Beef. (email) per lb. ed to 7.)

Do by the quarter. 31d to on

Port. (carcass) 4d to 41.1 Do (small) no to 7d

Mutton, pcr lb.. lid to 6d

I.th per lb, ed to 6d

Veal. per its. so to 5d

Ham. per 1b.. lid to 6d

Butter, (fresh) 1a to 1. 3d Do by the tub, lid to Is 1s,

Cheese, per 1b.. lid to 5d

Tallow. 1m “Ls lid to 10d

Lard. per 1b.. 8d :0 10d

Flour. er lbw did to 3d

Ostmea '. per 1001bs-. 203 to 21s

Bus. per down. Is to 1. 3d

Grain.

Barley. per bushel. a. a.) m a. Usts per duo 8a to as to Vegetables.

Peas. per quart

I’otstoos. per bushel. 1. 9a m 2. 3d

Poultry.

Geese. 2s lid to 3s 6d

Turkeys. Inch. do to 7s 6d

I-‘owls, each. to to 1s 8d

Chickens per pair.

Ducks; 1s ad to 1s 6d

Fm.

Codilsh, per qtl., 20. to so,

Herrings, per barrel. 2.5. go to,

Mackerel, per dozen.

Lumber.

Boards (Hemlock) 4. D0 ESPN“) 4a to be Do 1’In') 7s to 9.

Shingles, per M 13, to 13.

Sundries.

flay. per ion. 70. u, 30.

Straw. per cwt 1s lid to 2s

Timothy Seed,

Clover Seed, per lb..

IIemespun, per yard, a. g. 5,

Oalfakias. per 1b.. (in to 9d

Hides, per 1b.. N

Wool. Is to 1s 4d

Sheepskins, 3. m 5._

A too, or dot, rflirmgir. 1 (IEORGE LEWIS. Market

I to 1s 8d Clerk.

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A. HERMANS.

G U N ~ H M I T 1-1. BELL-HANGER AND TIN-Slum

308 to Inform his friends, and the public generally. that he has exist commenced Bus nee on Dorches- tor Street. next r to the Reading Room building, be Is pared to executo all orders In his line

w coolness and deepateh.

W“-—

oa man. A neat assortment of 'I‘luware, Kitchen Utensils. to. Co. leelodle the tons Box Ton Cones For, which re- solved tle Go d Medal Pme. at the Paris Exposition of I”. Also. DON TON LANTERNS. which will

surpass everything in the Xarhot, and suitable for either use or on board Vessels.

A few Wam Omauen hand. which to ther with

large variety of other leech will be not cheap for

our“. mums a tt‘erOAWYER’S cavern. ' I. a a w. econ and superior article used to y a saving or no coat is guaran-

mares-whales begstoeo ttho patronageof

J

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..._.. ..... ....,.......-._.._ .. - .......-,r... - .....,_-...-.

“oHiRLOTTETOWN, PRINCE EDWARD “ISLAND, Forum”. 1868. h

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. - -'_..—,—--..- “WI .V...

BOOKS. Boers: ” THE following CATALOGUE contains many useful

and instructive Works, all of which can be had cheaper at the QUEEN'S STREET BOOKSTORE

than elsewhere. E. REILLY. CATAILOGUE.

HISTORICAL.

Lingard‘s History of England. llnme‘s " “ Giblmna' Rome. Smith's Greece, I’ollard's History ofthc American War. I’opular Ancient History. The English History of Alnerioa, Robertson‘s Scotland and America, History of Ireland, (Mount-y.) llailam‘s Middle ages. do. ConstitutionalHistory. do. Literature of England. Eighty Year‘s Progress in llritish North America, ’l‘ln-irs' French Revolution. Rise and fall of the Irish Nation. (Barringtou.) Mann's British North America. Rise and Progress ofthc EuglishCoustitutiou. (Greasy) European Civilisation. (llahnez) Minister of State, (Gullah) 'I‘wo Sicilics (Kuranath

MISCSLLANEOUS.

Essays. (Bayou) Irving‘s Columbus,

do. Washington, . Coleridge‘s Northern Wortliies. Keane y‘s Demosthenes. duo . &c., French Women of Letters. (Cut'anagb) O'Connoll‘s Speeches, llurke's do. Eietncots of Rhetoric. (Wheatly.) Mechanics for Wlieclrights, 814)., &°.. Mechanic‘s Text Book, Pursuit of Knowledge. Veetigcs of Creation, Juvcnal and Perseus, (English,) llacan dc Locke. Old Red Sandstone, (Millen) The World of Ice, Ilartiuet's Letter Writer. Principles of Political Economy, Cvclopmdia of English Literature, Men who were in Earnest, Morton's Elements of Agriculture, Physical Theory. Warlo- of the most Rev. John Hughes, D. D., lndiau Sketches. (De Smet,)

ALSO, AN ASSORTIIENI‘ OF SELECT TALES SUITABLE FOR PRESENTS ’I‘O SCIIOOI. CHILDREN.

Among the Religious ll'orlro will befonndr—

Fundamental Pliilosoph . (Batman) History of the Church, (’I’nstorioi.) Sermons of the Panllsta (for 1861.) Life of St. Cecilia, 'l‘hc Martyrs. (Chateaubriand) Recve‘s Ilihle History, Cobhstt's History of tho Reformation. do. Le acit-s.

Variations o the Protestant Churches. (Bossuet,) Christian l’erfection, Spiritual Combat. Newman's Sermons, Imitation of the Sacred Heart. \ Manual of Controversy, Guide to Catholic Young Women. Works of Dr. Cahill. Life of St. Patrick,

do. Blessed Virgin, Life of Christ. Rosa and Devotion of Mary. 11on colt Manual, Life of St. Joseph. Sacred Heart Millnt-r‘s End of Controversy,

do Letters to a I’rebendary. Tho Soul Contemplating Gull. Clock of tho passion. Exercises of St. Gertrude. The Christian Virtues, (Ligouri) Lectures on Science. (Wt-omen) Faith and Reason. (It artioet) The I recious Blood, (Faber) d

All for Jesus. o

The Creator and the Creature, do Spiritual Confessions. do

The Blessed Sacrament do

Essay on Catholicism, (Cortes)

History of my Religions Opinions. (Newman) Meditati ins, (Clialloner)

The Monks of the West. (Montainmhert) Complete Works of St. John of the Cross. Authority of Doctrinal Decisions. (Ward) Treatise on the Immaculate Conception.‘

BIBLES and PRAYER-BOOKS. in French and English. from ls. up to 12s. Sacred Histories and Catechism. Hymn llooks and Harps, do. each, Beads. Medals and Crosses. in variety.

LIGIIT Ll'I‘ELA'I‘UItE.

Wild Times. a tale of the days of Ettvaheth. Willy Reilly, Crappy. Evil EyeJ Boyno Water. Art )fsgulre, The Confessions of an Apostate, (Mrs. Sadlier) Para Ssstha, Tales and Stories of the trial: Peasantry. (Carleton) Story of the War to La Vuudee. llerolues of Charity. The Poor Scholar. Arabian Nights. The Woman in White. Catholic he ends, Pictures of ‘hristian IIerclsm,» Twice Taken,

Also, a mnlleotion of Lover's Dickens‘. Lover's, Dumas' and Braddou's best productions.

POETICAL.

Shakespeare. 3 run. Moore, Beattte. Goldsmith. Collins. Gray, De ore. Tennyson, dam, drc., doc.

ITAHOHIIY. AID

SCHOOL BOOKS Of every description. Law Blanks. Iomorandume, etc, etc" Paper Blinds,

la variety DRAFT BOARDS. &0¢g “a, the.

akin". “e ‘m- 0

3: .I \

Qoeso Duvet. Ch‘towo. Joe. 0, in.

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-«-m~tv.w-.~~.~r -M-Mv .MM

THE EMPTY CHAIR.

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Poor is the heart that never mourned, Save only for a selfish vow; Joyless the heart that never turned I'o others'joya with klntlled glow, When ties are rent. and death lies low. That friend that friendship 111 can apare. Forever gone as all must go. How sad to mark the empty chair.

’I‘hcn memory brooding o’er the past, ltccatla the light. of foetlve hours, And perished joys, like shadows cast. Still lengthening more as evening lowers. The glory of llfc'a summer howm‘u. When roses hide the thorns of care. SUCIIIH dimmed with clouds and drenched with ahowurs. . When gazing on the empty chair.

When once the old familiar face llcnmed Welcome with its genial glow, And hailed with hospitable grace The chosen friends oflon ago; Where couvr-rsutlon'a aocla flow 80 oft relaxed the brow of care A voice in route -a form laid low—- We sigh to find the empty chair.

In friendly gatherings of yore, When merry conga and toast wont round. Hts jocoud laugh to heard no more. 111s welcome face no more is found. The silent grave. the grassy mound, All the remains of him is there— But memory cousct'i'utua the ground. And sorrows o,er the old arm chair.

As down the vote of vanished years. A retrospective glance was cost,

How sult't, how short the span appears. The grave yard of the past!

Like sore leaves trembling in the blast. And drooping from the branches bare.

Friend after t‘rit-ml still follows fast, And leaves behind tho empty chair.

As years decrease and friends decay. . Though other Interests round as spring. The ties that death has torn away, That: back again can never bring; But hallowed memories round them cllng, That none but friends of old can share. Till comes the hour on viewiess wing, When each must leave an emptychulr.

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1:11’E’S VALUE.

A STORY 01’ BRITTANY.

The scene of our little story opens in an apart~ ment in an ancient castle in Brittany. The young proprietor is about to quit the abode of his forefa- thers, to pursue schemes of ambition at court or in the great world. The family, consisting of the mo- ther and two sisters, with the hero of the piece, are met together on this interesting occasion. But we will let the young gentleman relate what passed at the interview.

The time at length came when I should depart, and Joseph, opening the door gently. informed us that the chaise do posts was ready. This announce- ment was startling to my mother and sisters, who. in an agony of feeling, throw their arms around me.

‘It is not yet too Iatel' they exclaimed with tears; ‘renouuco this intended journey. Oh! do not leave "us 1'

‘ My dearest mother,’ I replied, ‘ at twenty years of age and the inheritance of a noble name I must make myself known in my native land. I must open a path to fame either in the army or at couri.’

‘ And when you are gone; said my poor mother, ‘ what will become of me.‘

' You will hear with pride and pleasure of your son's success.’

‘ And should I hear of his death in battle.’

‘ Well, of what use is life at m ago,’ I replied, but to gain honor and glory? p'I‘lunk rather of the time when I shall return a colonel—perhaps a mar- shal of Fruuce.’

‘ And then,’ said my mother.

‘ Why then. honor and respect shall follow my steps where I go.’

° And then.‘ pursued she.

"I‘heu I will marry my cousin Henrietta; we shall find noble husbands for my sisters. and we will all live together in peace and happiness in these an- cient halls of my ancestors,’ ‘

‘ And why not commence title life of happiness from this moment I' said my mothers—r Where is there a wider or fairer domain in Brittany than yours? Who claimaa uobler name in the Prov- ince. In the midst of your faithful vessels. are you not sufficiently honored and beloved. Leave us not, my son l—leavs not your friends. your sisters. your mother. whom you may never again behold 1 Go not to waste in the pursuit of vain glory, or to shorten, by sorrows and disappointments, those youthful days that pass so rapidly. Life is a tree- sure, my beloved Bernard 3 and where can you en- joy lt more than under the lovely sky of Brittany ?'

As my mother spoke she led me to a window, and pointed out the noble avenues of the ancient park, where the stately chestnuts were mingled with lilacs and woodbiues, whose fragrant blossoms per. fumed the air. Before the door stood the aged gar~ donor and his family, whose saddened looks seemed to say, ‘Desert us not, our noble master-desert not those you are bound to protect i” llortousia, my eldest sister, twiued her arms round my noclt, while Amelia, the youngest, taking up a volume of La Foutamo. mated to no engraving, and with sobs placed the ch in my hands. It was the fable of the ‘ 'I‘wo Pigeons.’ Istartodn , and catricating in self from their embraces. an again exclaimed, ‘ must win honor and glory.‘ Let me go, let me go ;' and I rushed into the courtyard.

As I was about to ascend the carriage, a female d are appeared otthe hall door. It was my cousin

snriotto. She wept not, spoke not ; but, pale as marble. appeared sinking to the earth. She had a handkerchief in her hand, with which she waved me a last farewell, and then fell senseless. I rush- odto her, raised her in my arms, and uttered the tender-est rows of love and constancy. But when I saw the color revisit her cheek, leaving her to the anxious care of my mother and sisters, I hastened

cm

'and the rendezvous of all the oiliccrs ofthc garrison. ‘

One more look at Ilenrieta, and I felt I could not have lefthor. In a few minutes after, the chaise tle paste was rolling along the high road towards Sedan.

For some time my thoughts were entirely filled with my beloved Henrietta. my weeping sisters, and my dear mother, and all the happiness I felt I was leaving. But as the ancient turrets of Roche Ber- nard receded from my view, those saddening images

seemed to vanish also. and were succeeded by the l

brilliant visions of glory and ambition. What airy castles rose before me as I leaned back in my old vehicle.

the scale ascending asI advanced on my journey,;‘ I was aduke, governor ofa province, and a marshal

of France. by the time at which I reached the ion

at which I was to repose for the night. The voice

of my servant. simply addressing me as ‘ Monsieur

lo Chevalier.’ forced me unwillingly to abdicatc my

newly-created dignity.

The next day and for several succeeding ones I indulged in the same intoxicating dreams, my jour- ney being of some length. I was repairing to Sc- dan, to the residence of the Duke of C——, an old and tried friend of my father's, and the protector of ; my thmily. He had promised to talte me to Paris ‘ and introduce me at the Court of Versailles.

I reached Sedan at so late an hour that I could not think of presenting myself at the due a chateau, and therefore ensiallcd myself for the night at the Arms of France, the beat in the town aflorded. and ,

Sedan was then a fortified town, the vcry streets had a warlike sppoarruce, and the citizens a martial air that seemed to say to a stranger, ' We are com~ ' patriots of the great 'I‘urenuc.’

I suppcd at a table d'hote, and look the opportu- nity of inquiring my way to the chateau, where I in- tcnded going in the morning.

‘ Any one will point it out to you,‘ was the ana- wer, ‘ it is well known to the whole country. In that chateau expired one of our most celebrated men and bravest of warriors. Marechal Fabert.’

And hcroupou. as was natural amour: so many military heroes. the conversation fell upoh the career of the mnrcchal. They spoke of his many gallant exploits, and of his singular modesty, which body made him refuse the titles of nobility and the rib- ' bone of several orders offered to him by Louis XIV. Above all, they expiated on his extraordin- ary good fortune. which had enabled him, without ' the aid of family interest—ho being the son of an‘ obscure printer—to raiae himself from a common soldier to the rank of IIarecbal of France. It had appeared so extraordinary and unprecedented an elevation, that, even during the life of Fabert, popu- lar rumor had not been backward in attributing it to supernatural cansea. It was currently reported that be dealt in modulo-silt was even Mlle had made a compact with Satan.

Our landlord, who, to the ignorance of a native of Champagne, added the oredulily of a peasant to Brittany. gravely assured us that a few moments before Fabett expired, a black man, unknown to any one in the chateau, had entered the chamber and carried off the marochal's soul, which, indeed. of right, apportained to him. be having purchased it long before. Mine host also went on to state that from that moment to the present time, upon each anniversary of Fabert's death, the black man was seen at midnight bearing a lighted torch in his hand. The recital enlivened our dessert, and we queued several bumpers of Champagne to the familiar de- mon of the deceased marechal, be ing he might also take us under his protection, an give us simi- lar triumphs to the battles of Collioure and Marlee.

The next morning, at an early hour, I repaired to the chateau of the Duke dc ("i—u. It was an immense and gloomy Gothic pile, which would not perhaps at another time have made much impression upon me; but I must confess that I now gazed upon it with a singular feeling of iutcrcet, as I call- ed to mind the landlord's story.

The domestics who ushered me in told me his master was not yet visible. I gave my name, and 1". than left alone in an ancient hall, adorned with the trophies of the chase. and hupg aroundwnh fa~ mily portraits. I waited a consmeflbk INN. 5‘“ no one appeared. ‘ Is this brilliant career to com- mence by the ante-chamber ?’ exclaimed I. [’3‘ ginning to conceive the impatience of a discontent- ed place-hunter. I had gone three times the room" of the grim portraits, and had sedulousl counted all the beams of the lofty ceiling, when heard a slight noise in the wainsoot. and foundit to proceed from a half clascd door, moved by the wind. I pushed it gently open. and saw a small room, taste- lull furnished, and from which a glass door open- ed nto amaguificent park. Iadvaocd in order to enjoy the view from the window, when another ob- ject met my sight. Strochcd on a sofa. whose back was turned to the door by which I entered, was a man. who not observing me, rose hastily and rushed to the window. Ithen perceived that his face was bathed in loan, and that despair was marked in every feature. He remained for a moment motion- less. his face buried in his hands. than, with rapid atrides, began to pace the apartment. As soon as his eye fell upon me, he stopped and sbuddorod, while I, distressed at my intrusion, muttered some words in apology, and was about to withdraw.

‘ Who are you i—what brings you here i” be ex- claimod, in a loud voice, and sieizug my arm with violence.

‘ I am the Chevalier do Bernard, and have come

‘ I ltnow, I kucw.’ he said hastily. and taking my‘ hand warmly, he made me sit down b him, and in- quired with much interest about my emil : spoke of my father, when he appeared to have nowu so well, that I could not doubt my being In the pres- once of the toaster of the chateau.

‘ You are Monsieur do C—,' said I.

lie rose, and replied, to as agitated tone, ‘ I was once; bull am nothia -nothiug com—limb 1- do not speak-do not as any questions.

' Permit me at least,’ I ventured to say,'to assure you. that if the most devoted friendship can in any way lighten the affliction of which I have been an unvoluatarly witnessom'

‘ You are right.’ he replied, abruptly ; ' though you cannot change my doom, yet you may receive