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REVIEW OF THE YEAR 1863.

i EXECUTION of a WOMAN-DREADFUL…

GARIBALDI AND VICTOR HUGO.

A MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY.

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A MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY. A curious article has been published in the Atlantic Monthly, giving dates, names of officials and vessels of war, as if intended to be taken as literal fact. It is a history of Philip Nolan, who is described as having been, in 1805, a lieutenant in the United States' army, and who became im- plicated with Burr in some of his schemes of "treason." The narrative is as follows Nolan was tried by court-martial, found guilty, and, when asked if he had anything to say why he had not been faithful to the United States, he replied, the United States! I wish I may never hear of the United States again." The court-martial, it is said, took him at his word, and sentenced him to be hence- forth a man without a country. The authorities at Washington approved the sentence, and, immediately after, Nolan was transported to a vessel bound on a long cruise. From that time up to the hour of his deathâa period of nearly sixty years-the United States became to him as if they never had existed. Whenever the vessel upon which he was embarked approached this country, he was transferred to one outward bound. The name of the United States was never mentioned in his hearing. All books and papers, before going to him, were carefully examined, and every allusion to this country completely removed. He was so surrounded that under no circumstance was there anything relating to the United States mentioned in his hearing. During his last sickness, and a few hours before his death, his physician, in obedience to his urgent entreaties, gave him a summary of the changes which occurred from 1807 down to May, 1863, during all which time not one syllable relative to his country had ever reached him. He is stated to have ditd on the United States' corvette Levant on the 11th of May of the present year. "I tell you," says the doctor, it was a hard thing to condense the history of half a century into that talk with a sick man. And I do not now know what I told him-of emigration and the means of it; of steamboats and rail- roads and telegraphs; of inventions, and books, and literature; of the colleges and West Point, and the Naval School; but with the queerest interruptions that ever you heard. You see it was Robinson Crusoe asking all the accumulated questions of 56 years. I told him everything I could think of that would show him the grandeur of his country and its prosperity; but I could not make up my mouth to tell him a word about this infernal rebellion. And he drank it in, and enjoyed it as I cannot tell you. He grew more and more silent, yet I never thought he was tired or faint. I gave him a glass of water, but he just wet his lips, and told me not to go away. Then he asked me to bring the Presbyterian'Book of Public Prayer,' which lay there, and said with a smile that it would open at the right place, and so it did. There was his double red mark down the page, and I knelt down and read, and he repeated with me- For ourselves and our country, 0 gracious God, we thank Thee, that, notwithstanding our manifold transgressions of Thy holy laws, Thou hast continued to us Thy marvellous kindness. And so to the end of that thanksgiving. Then he turned to the end of the same book, and I read the words more familiar to meâ Most heartily we beseech Thee with Thy favour to behold and bless Thy servant, the President of the United States, and all others in authority. And the rest of the Episcopal collect. 'Danforth,' said he, I have repeated those prayers night and morning; it is now 55 years.' And then he said he would go to sleep. He bent me down over him and kissed me. I thought he was tired and would sleep. I knew he was happy, and I wanted him to be alone." But in an hour, when the doctor went in gently, he found Nolan had breathed Bis life away. We locked in his Bible, and there was a slip of paper, written- Bury me in the sea-it has been my home, and I love it. But will not some one set up a stone for my memory at Fort Adams or at Orleans, that my disgrace may not be more than I ought to bear? Say on it,â"In memory of Philip Dolan, lieutenant in the army of the United States. He loved his country as no other man has loved her but no man deserved less at her hands."

A SAD CHRISTMAS.

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THE MARKETS.