VOU JIK .3. NEW SERIES. THE BEDFORD GAZETTE H Bi.tsnri) 1:v lu \ FRIDAV MORNI\<; ID MKV Kits & BKNFORD, At llic following terms, to wit: *l.r>i' per annum, CASH, IN advance. j/.00 *• " it paid within Ihe year. " " if not paid within the year. No subscription taken lor less than six months. GV" No papei discontinued until all arrearages are ;Mid,unless at theeption of the publishers. It has liucn decided by the United States Courts, that the vnpageol a newspaper without the payment ol ar -Ir.ll.lges, is prima. facie evidence ol fraud and is a erirrmud oiFence. ( The coml have decided that persons are ac rounlable for llie subscription price of newspapers, 1 lliey lake ihem fiom the post office, whether Ihey - ibstribe lor them, or not. 0 v i g i n a I {J 0c t v 11. Written for the Bedford Gazette. NIGHT THOUGHTS. I 1 vvilight,so vague, is passing by, And night is glowing into birth ; I heie's light and glory in the sky, And love and beauty on the earth! Most glonous!—Kteinul Gud ! There is thy witness ! in yon page Flung to the woild, full bright and broad, The same, unchanged, for age on age I there an eye, that may not trace The hand of some Aim ighty One, Who there hath writ on boundless space, in star and moon, and cloud, and suu- II is might, and majesty, and love ! And none—tlio" all-illiterate— Who may not read that book above, Nor ask a wiser to translate. And I have gazed, a? I do now Upon the cloud-less, star-gemmed sky, And marvelled if, upon thy brow, 0 Night! has e'er been bent an eye, That spite of Nature's eloquence, Denied a God's Omnipotence ! II Of old, Uhaldea's sages read The language of the stars and drew, From thence, a science which hath led, Since then, the weak to deem it true. The wise eschew that mystic lore— The old Chaldean's starry dreain— And but as worlds, with age all hoar, They view those orbs that on us beam; — But with the untaught shepherd's eye, 1 would look on ye, Gems of Night! And deem that ye were set on high, The Watchers o'er man's bloom or blight ; Ami deem that ye have power to sway, l*or good, or ill , Ids a..u. r To shed a mild, or baleful ray, Foreshadowing the years to be! 111 It is the night and some in sleep, Seek for oblivion of tbeir woes ; And they, who toil up Labor's steep, Refreshment court in sweet repose : And some are met for revelry, Where Music's strains, voluptous, rise; \nd some are mad with drunken glee : And some in prayer scale the skies For mercy for the sins of Time ; And some are seeking to be wise, And some are doing deeds ot crime, But nature, wearied, or by mirth, Or toil, demands, alike repose; And sleep and silence fill the earth, And lull, awhile, its joys and woes. Hli sec 11 an c oti 5. V BOAT-.JOI HNEY ON THE GANUES. A very lively and entertaining work descrip tive of military adventure in India, during the revolt, has been published in London, undei j the title of Billets and Bivouacs. The hero ol the story, who is his own biographer, is a milita ry oliicer, and, in company with ethers, embar ked from England to join their regiments some time previous to the outbreak of the revolt.— One of these gav and light-hearted comrades was Captain Harry Percy, of the Lancers, whose ad fate is told in the following narrative of a I oat-journey on the river Ganges : A NARROW ESCAPE. Willi me were three native boatmen and a .it iin want of skill in the management of the little craft, together with their tall persons and H it indescribable something which, through itiv disguise, betrays the well-drilled soldier, led me to suspect that these worthies were ili'si itiel Sepoys. If so, I could scarcely flatter myself that their designs with reference to rr.e wore other than sinister, and I determined to be vigilant. I was dressed in a garment usually termed a bloomer, in camp parlance, a loose carle! compromise between a shell jacket and i dressing gown, and wore my sword and revolver, so that 1 was in comfortable fighting trim if the worst should betide. The after part • ! the boat was covered in \v itli a sort of awning, in which it was intended I should repose, and on a little platform over this the steersman was perched. Now, as this personage could see me distinctly through the interstices in the roof, it occurred to me that he could also dispose of me with much facility, with a single prod of any sharp instrument with which he might be furnished ; so 1 determined at once not to occu py this precious cabin. I observed these three patriots, as may be supposed, with a close inter < st, and from signs passed rapidly between and various trilling circumstances, such as the discovery of several sets ol soldiers' accoutre ments in the bag which 1 happened to kick over, i \ suspicions were confirmed into conviction- My discovery of the pouches and belts was, I believe, observed by the natives, though nothing was said about it. That they would attempt any violence by daylight, I thought improbable, and I took advantage of a cool attempt made by one ol the men who had been seated for'ard to to come alt to converse with the helmsman, to assume a decided position, which [ did by order ing the fellow peremptorily hack to his old place. At the same time I seated myself in the middle, the hilt of my sword conveniently to the front, and producing my revolver from its holsters, looked lolhe charges and nipples.— My amiable companions correctly concluding that I did not understand Bengalee, then com menced a conversation in that euphonious lan guage, but I enjoined absolute silence, and en forced the injunction with a savage scowl, and a persuasive click ol the pistol lock. The silenced native smiled upon trie—smiled that innocent, helpless, deprecating smile, which only your thorough nigger can accomplish.— While they smiled, I was meditating whether or not to shoot them there and then, without waiting their attack. But as I doubted if I could manage the boat in the strong current alone, I determined to let them live and lake me to my destination, where J could have them comfortably hanged by the sentence of a drum head couit-maitial. And thus we ail sat in grim silence. The wild boar was at bay, but the shikarees paused and marveled at his tusks. Night came on apace—a black tempestuous night. The wind howled dismally over the turbid flanges, and the great waters rushed and roared along, bearing our little bark towards the perilous rapids and eddies of the Colgong rocks* I fancy that it must have been about ten o'clok when we approached these enormous masses of boulders which obstruct the course of the river and form an insular extension of the Rajmahal hills. The interval had been spent in profound silence aud vi } ilance. The two men for'ard I could not see, as they crouched down in the shadow of tfie bows, but I caught a glimpse of the helmsman occasional!)', when the waves lilted the stern above the horizon, and his figure was faintly relieved for a moment against the sky. Once or twice the moon peeped through m** ..,itg ootids: these fitlul lights only served to render more palpable and oppressive the suc ceeding darkness. Instead of keeping in the stream, close to the northern bank of the river, as more experienced boatmen would have done, iiiv Sepovs suffered the boat to become involved in the whirling eddies that swept fiercely round the rocky islets ; the light ciaft no longer an swered its helm, but rushed furiously along borne away by the roaring waters, like a dry leaf in autumn upon a toirentjlt was a mo ment of extreme peril, and the two worthies in the bows rose up and took long bamboo poles, such as all native boats are furnished with, in (he \ain hope of fending off' from any rock a ; gainst which we might be impelled. Such an event involved a certain destruction. The l iver, swollen much by the rains, and more by i tlie melted snows from the Himalaya, had risen fillv-five feet above its lowest level and dashed along with inconceivable violence and veloci ty- The periodic fever, to which I had recently been subject, threatened me with a prese.it at tack, and, despite my utmost eflbrts to fix my attention and remain alert, a fatal languor and inUiflerence to the danger of my position gained upon me. Suddenly I became aware that a corpse had chilled against the side of the boat- There was something remarkable in the circum stance : in the course of the afternoon 1 bad seen many carcasses of both men and beasts floating along, with crows and vultures sealed on them. The close proximity of the present one, however, was extremely offensive, and I stooped down and took a bamboo, with the inten tion of shoving it off. In the act ol doing so, something glittei ing on the breast of the corpse attracted my attention, and, dropping the polej I reached over and seized it. Such was the strength of the band that secured the ornament arouud the dead man's neck, that, in wrench ing it off, I forced the gunwale so low that the water bubbled over it and rushed into the boat. Fortunately, at the moment the link of the chain parted, and the body, which was half raised from the water, fell heavily back, inundating my face and person with a putrid shower.— An instant the moon peered through "the blan ket of the dark," and, holding up the trinket, 1 discovered that I held the enameled locket with the brilliants that Percy was wont to wear. God ! was it possible that the hideous object that still floated near me was all that remained oi Harry Percy. I saw it distinctly—so close was it that I could have touched it with my hand, but there was nothing I could recognize. The body had evidently been some days in the river. The tronk and limbs were horribly swollen, part of the bones ol the face were laid bare, the lips had been utterly torn away by the birds, and the large white teeth glittered horribly. Some long river weeds bad wound themselves round the neck, and streamed over i the face ami chest.The tever was now rising in mv blood, and delirium making mischief in my brain. The fate of tny friend struck my wild fancy as ludicrous rather than terrible, and I laughed aloud, and stretrhingjout my hand, tri fled with the weedy festoon that rose and fell with the water on the breast of the dead. '-All, Harry Percy," I said, mockingly, "you were always longing for honors and decorations; re joice now—ay, grin with those white teeth— | glory in the rank accolade of Death, the insignia of Siva, the Destroyer, from whose dread heart How the sacred waters that bear thee." Then the apathy of the fever, or sleep, or insensibility came over me, and lor a time I remembered no more. How long this lasted, I know not, but I was rouse ' by a glare of light close to my face, and springing up, ] perceived two of the natives close to me. One of them had placed the muzzle of a firelock to my temple, and pulled the trigger, but the charge being damp, the pow der had ignited wirhout exploding, and merely fizzled in my face like a squib, while the bullet dropped out harmlessly on my shoulder. Even as the light flashed in my face, a full conscious ness of my position burst upon me. The two . Sepoys advanced to seize me be/ore ] could gain my feet, but I lodged a ball from my revolver full in the chest of the foremost one, who fell violently against his comrade. The second ruffian, who, I perceived, was armed with a bayonet, staggered under the shock, and ere he could recover himself, I dashed forward : he fell j over the gunwale and the black waves tolled | unheedingly over the living and the dead.— The fellow at the helm had left the tiller, and now sat in front of the platform, steadying him self with his feet against a stay, whilst lie co vered me dead with his musket, and look a regular pot shot. Whether the violent motion of the uusteered boat served me, or whether the rascal's nerve was shaken by the sudden disap pearance of his comrades, I know not, but cer tain it is that, although the distance between us was not more than four yards, he missed his aim, anJ the bullet did no further mischief than carrying away the crest of my pith helmet. And there he stood at iny mercy. My finger HO ' •>/ iU-il..'/ , —it is a terrible tiling thus deliberately to take a human life when the excitement ot action is over. The fellow knew his life was forfeited, and awaited death with a stoical insensibility, which Asiatics rarely fail to evince. A quiet voice in my heart whispered of mer cy, but then there came to my mind the image | of that horribleobject floating away in the dark ness, the cries of my outraged country women seemed to ring through the bowlings of the storm—might not even then frenzied virgins, be struggling in more than the agonies of death in the clasp of the detested ravisher? That iit t!e pair of infant's shoes—those immortal little shoes on the Cawnpore road, found with the little while tert i/i them, the story whereof had made the hearts ol the most callous to beat wildly through the length and breadth of main lands— those little shoes arose to my memory in judgment. I thought of the many innocents, the many fair-haired darlings, who had been wont to say "Our Father" at their mothei's knees, ruthlessly butchered, mutilated, burned. A savage joy possessed me, and I sprang up to the platform. 1 placed my hand upon the ath letic shoulder of the Indian, arid held the pistol to his brow. Resistance, he knew, was in vain. Kisnmut—it was destiny. He stood up, erect and calm, to meet death as became a man and a soldier. Again I paused, and then I I seemed to hear again the trembling voice of Percy say :—"Poor little Gertrude, she was a mere child," and I pulled the trigger ! With the hand I grasped him with L felt the shudder ;of death strike through the stiong frame—a , heavy fall—a roll to the leeward—a splash in the water—and 1 was alone ! THE MYSTKUIOLS HOUSEMAN. A LEU END OF THE SI; TERN ATI" UAL. There is a (ale reported by Lord Lyttieton, (vve mean, ot course, the young of that name,) which shows the tendency in the minds of even the shrewdest men of the world to give a re spectable audience to the mat vellous and super natural. It may be found it) the twenty-first ofLont Lyttieton's letters. He says that in the early part ol the life of ting club, when a well mounted stranger, of genteel address, joined the club, and rode with a courage and an address that astonished every body. The animal he rode is described as one of amazing powers and endurance; the hunts man who was hft far behind swore that the man anu horse were devils from hell. After the sport he was invited to dinner, and aston ished the company as much by Ins conversation al powers and the elegance of his manners, as by his equestrian prowess. He was, says Lord Lyttieton, an orator, a poet, a painter, a musician, a lawyer, and a divine: in fact, he was everything, and the Freedom of Thongbtinti Opinion. • -• - BEDFORD, PA., FRIDAY AWNING, JULY 9, 1858. magof his discourse kept the drowsy sports meifwake long after their usual hour. At leiig they retired, but had scarcely closed theijyes when they were awakened by the m<i>pnible shrieks resounding through the hotA Inquii ing of the servants, they were toKfiat these horrible sounds proceeded from the I chamber, find on approaching his room reper groans of despair, and shriller shrift agony, astonished and terrified them. Aft .locking at the door, he answered them as jA awaked from sleep, declared he had heui-Ko noise, and in rather angry tones, de siredaot to be disturbed. Tp company accordingly retired, and had scarry begun to communicate their sentiments to lah other, when a repetition of the most fiord sounds broke in upon their conversation; yeihscreams and shrieks, which from the hor ror seemed to issue from the throats of darned spirits. They immediately followed the jonds, and traced thenr to the stranger's chaiber, the door of which they instantly bursapen and found him on his kn-es in bed, in tit act ol scourging himself with the most severity, his body streaming with blooj. ; 0| their seizing his hand to stop the strokes, j he bjgged them, in the most wringing tone ot voieii, lis an act of mercy, that they would re lire,lnsuring them that the cause ol the ciitur bancls was over, and that in the morning lie wouil acquaint them with the reasons of the ter liblecries they had heard, and the melancholy sighubey had seen. After a repetition of en treat.*®, they retired, and in the morning some of tlfm went to-his chamber, but he was not there and on examining the bed, they found it to be one gore of blood. Upon further inquiry the groomsman said, as it was light the gentle man iitne to Ins stable booted and spurred, de sired his horse might be saddled, and appeared to be extremely impatient till it was done, when he vaulted into Ins saddle, and rode out of the yard at full speed. Servants were immediately dispatched into every part ol the surrounding country,.but not a single trace of him could be foum. : £ Tlas'siWTeJlfi not been seen by any \V "-a nf Lord Lyttleton proceeds to slate that tne cir cumstances ol this strange story were immedi ately committed to writing, and signed by all who witnessed them, that the future credibility of any one, who should think proper to relate them, might be duly supported. Among those who witnessed it were some of the first men in England. The charm of this marvellous narrative, in which Lord Lyttleton evidently suspected some thing supernatural, is somewhat dispelled by the fact that, about the date ol the narrative, an American gentleman, by the name of Hugur, was in England, who was just such a person as described above, as fine a horseman, a man ol very elegant manners and splendid powers of conversation, but who had the ugly habit of whipping himself in his sleep, precisely as de actibed by Lord L)ltleton. \ TALE OF THE GREAT SARATOGA THINK. Old Anthracite has a very dear wife—so dear thai she costs him, on her own private account, about fifteen thousand dollars a year. Mrs. An thracite always has the latest fashions, so when the "reat Saratoga trunk was exhibited in Broad wav, Mrs. A. instantly purchased one for her summer trip. Every one knows that the great Saratoga trunk is an unexceptionable trunk. It is colos sal —ot Titanic proportions. Cheops, the build er of the great pyramid, might have found am ple accommodation for her entire household in the great Saratoga trunk. Accordingly, down went Mrs. A. to the great watering place, with her great trunk. She had not been long there, however, when old An thracite received a private telegram, from a friend, to inform him that Mrs. A. was flirting desperately with young Belzebub, the son and heir of old Belzebub, the great soap boiler.— Anthracite instantly takes the train, appears at the hotel, and, inquiring the number ot his wife's room, quietly walks up stairs. His-wife's door is shut. Anthracite knocks; door opens alter some delay. Mrs. A. appears fluttered, which flutter increases to dismay when she sees her husband. Husband enters coolly; explains that he just came to see how she was getting on, and seats himself on the Saratoga trunk. Drops a glove, the picking up of which enables him to°bok under the bed. No one there. Mrs. A. looked as it some one ought to be there. Husband talks of the weather, and the pair are sitting down to a little light conversation when old Anthracite temarks quietly: Mrs. A. there's a rat 111 your trunk. Mrs. A. turns pale through her paint. No— Husband is mistaken. Ihe rat is in the wain scot. They are always there, those rats. Hus band is sure it is in the trunk. He smells him , he will examine. Mrs. A. is very anxious he should not. He can't. The trunk is shut, and she has lost the key. Husband begs to contra dict. The key was in the lock, and what was more—the lid was open. Husband, amid the protestations of Mrs. A., has raised the lid. No crinoline, no shawls, no lace, uo furbelows in the great Saratoga trunk; only young Belzebub's glossy cui'ls and killing moustache are visible. Mrs. A. instantly faints. It's the privilege of her sex, on such occasions. What does bus- j band do. Shoot young Belzebub? Not a bit ol it. He smiles grimly and shuts the lid down again, locking the great Saratoga trunk. He rings the bell, tells the waiter to bring a gimlet, i Bores a few holes in the great trunk. Orders up the porter and goes off to New York, accom panied bv the great Saratoga trunk. What would the trunk not have given for cigar in a j baggage wagon, when it smelt the tobacco smoke thai was so liberally puffed about? The trunk, although nearly suffocated, thought it best.to keep quiet. Arrived at New \ork, old Anthracite told the people at the depot, loud enough for the great Saratoga trunk to hear him, that he would leave his trunk at the office for a few days, when he would send for it. He then went off. This was more than the great trunk could bear, so it kicked, shouted and made a noise, until it was broken open, and to the a mazement of everybody, poor Belzebub crawled out in a limping condition. He tried to tell the people that 'twas done for a bet, but somehow the truth leaked out, and 1 predict that next summer there will be fewer great Saratoga trunks at the springs.— ! think old Anthracite had the best of it: don't ! VOU 1 V SI'EECII THAT AUOIiTTED A CLIENT. "Thou shalt not kill. ' Now il you hang, usv client, vou transgress the command as slick as grease, and as plump as a goose egg iii a baler's face. Gentlemen murder is murder, whether committed by twelve jurymen or by an humble individual like my client. Gen tlemen, I do not deny the tact of my client kil ling a man. No such a thing, gentlemen. Ye may bring the prisoner in "guilty," the hang man may do his duty ; but will that exonerate you? No such a thing. In that case you will be murderers. Who among you is prepared tor the brand of Cain to be stamped upon bis brow to-day ? Who, freemen ? Who in this land of liberty and light? Gentlemen, 1 will pledge my word not one of you has a bowie. — No, gentlemen, your pockets are odoriferous with the fumes of cigar cases and tobacco. — You can smoke the tobacco of rectitude in the pipe of a peaceful conscience; but, hang my un fortunate client and the scaly alligators of re morse will gallop Through the eternal princi ples ol your animal viscera, until the spinal turned into a ralYioaiHor'Ttm' g*i Wi str^fti ,O PurV goblins ol despair. Gentlemen, beware of com mitting murder. Beware, I say, of meddling with the eternal prerogative! Gentlemen, 1 adjure vou, by the name of woman, the main spi ing of the ticking time piece of time's theor etical transmigration, to do no murder ! I ad jure you, by the love you have for the esculent and condimcntal gusto of our native pumpkin, to do no murder! I adjure you by the Ameri can eagle that whipped the universal gamecock of creation, and now is roosting on the magnetic telegraph of time's illustrious transmigration, to do no murder! And lastly, il you expect to wear store-made coats; it you ever expect Iree dogs not to bark at you; if you ever expect to wear boots made of the Rocky Mountain buffalo, and, to sum up all, if you ever expect to be any thing but sneaking, low-flung, rascally, braided small ends of humanity whittled down into in distinctibility, acquit my client and save your country. The prisoner was acquitted, of course. ANECDOTE OF HENRY CLAY. i The anniversary ol the birth of Henry Clay ; was celebrated by a festival at the Commercial ' Hotel, Memphis, on the evening of the 13th April. Hon. H. S. Foote presided. There ! was a izood time generally. Among those who made speeches were the President, and It. 11. ' Stanton, ui Kentucky. Mr. Foote related an ! inteicsting incident as follows: 1 shall never forget a scene which occurred ' in the city of Annapolis, in Maryland, during the summer ol 1850. Mr. Clav had become 1 great! v exhausted with the severe laburs through ; which he had been passing; those laaors, a con : tinuation ot which was so soon afterwards to ' terminate his valuable life. An old and valued ! schoolmate of my own, Senator Pratt, of' Mar yland, invited Mr. Clay and a few others of his friends to spend a day or two at his hospitable ! mansion. Mr. Clay accepted the invitation, i and proceeded to Annapolis, attended by seve ' ral gentlemen quite well known to the coun ■ try.° Mr. Dickinson, of New York, was among ; the invited guests, Mr. Bright, of Indiana, and ' Mr. Dawson, of Georgia, whom you all know !so well, and value so highly. I had the honor !of being in company also. The day alter we I got to Senator Pratt's, it was proposed that we | should take a short walk through the city, and i visit that ancient, time honored building, with in the precincts ol which the Revolutionary Congress held its session at the close of the War of Independence. We went thither accordingly, and entered | the venerated room where Washington pei formed one of the most striking acts ot his life. I allude to the surrender of hie sword to the Continental Congress: When Mr. Clay en tered the hall he inquired for the spot where Washington stood when this scene was enacted. It was pointed out to him. He stepped forward and occupied it for a moment, gazing solemnly ond earnestly around the room, which is pre cisely m the condition it was in when occupied Iby Congress. A crowd'of citizens gathered a- I bout him. I never saw him when his appear- I ance and bearing were altogether so majestic ivBIO1.1: m '.IIBUR 2NOI. and imposing. He seemed really lo be lor the moment the grand personage upon whose glo ries iiis mind was meditating. The multitude assembled demanded to hear his august voice. He addressed them. The speech was short but impressive beyond any oiatorical effort I have ever witnessed. He took a rapid view of tiro condition of the country; the commotion exist ing; the danger of the hour; the expedients ne cessary to be resorted lo in order to rescue the Republic from destruction. He especially en larged upon the danger of showing too much respect at such a moment to part}' and rts be hests; closing with the memorable declaration, "77/'// party shall in future he my parly which shall prove most faithful lo the t'nion.'" FIRST LOVE. A PLE ASING SKETCH. "Am I your onlv and first love?" asked a bright eyed girl, as she reclined her classical ly moulded brow upon the shoulder oilier lov er. "No, Lelia, you are not my only, not my first love; I have loved another. Long years be fore J saw you, I loved another—and I love that other still." other still, and better than me 1 Paul, why do you tell me that?"asked she, rais ing tier dark blue eyes and gazing steadlastly into those of her lover, halt in astonishment, half in sorrow, While her jewelled fingers tight ened convulsively upon his arm: "You asked me, Lelia, and I answered with truth and sincerity; you would not have me deceive you, would you?" "Y'ou love her still, then?" "1 love her still." "And better than you do m<*" "Not better, but as well." "And will you iove her still ?" ! "Until death, and even beyond death; over her last resting place will 1 strew spring's ear liest flowers, and bedew the sacred spot with the purest tears that love ever shed f" "Handsomer than I, is she not?" "Her eves were black as night, and her hah in glossy blackness outvied the wing of the ra ven. She hasn't your sweet blue eyes, nor your soft brown hair; yet, oh! Lelia, her eyes have been the sweetest eyes, to me, that ever looked the look ol eternal love." "Paul, do you wish to break my heart?— Why have you taught me to love you so wild ly and blindly, and then, in the midst of my _ i happiness, tell me that there is an impassible barrier between us? I bis night, Paul, we must R4Cf Jopjyer'. 1 would not have be lie Ved this, with tears. "He not too rash, Lelia; hear me to the end, you love me tood* j aily to part with me thus! Think you that you could not share my heart with one that 1 so dearly love?" "Never, Paul, never!" "You shall, Lelia,and must! Listen for a mo ment, while 1 tell you of my first love, and 1 am sure you will be willing to share with her then." "1 will listen, Paul, hut will not share your love; I must have all or none, 1 am selfish in that respect, and who, that loves as 1 do, is not ! Forget me, Paul, or forget her forever!" "Forget her, Lelia? Never! 1 would not lose one jot ol her pure affection for the fairest lace that evtr bloomed; no, not lor the girdle ol Venus, or the love of a second Helen !" "Then, Paul, you are lost to me forever, we must part. Farewell to your every dream of brightened future. 1 love you 100 well, and am too proud lo share your love with aught crea ted. O ! Paul! you have wronged me deeply;" and her exquisitely chiseled lips curled with indignant sorrow. "Stop, Lelia, or you will deeply wrong me, also. 1 met this loved one as 1 said before, long vears ago, in one of the swetteet and sun niest vales of our broad Illinois; wandered witli her, hand in hand, for years, besides the spark ling waters of my childhood's home. First, by tier smilesol exquisite sweetness, she taught my heart that she loved me with unutterable fond ness: and never have 1 doubted; my trust ir: her has ever been steadfast and fearless; never has her eye looked coldly upon me, and never will it till the breath of the death angel shall dim it for the long sleep. Oit in the still hours of night have I awakened, as if by the gentle fanning of the sleep-god's wing, and beheld that face, those eyes gazing upon me with all the beatific tenderness of a guardian jtngel over a repenting prodigal; and a kiss would fall upon my brow more soothing than the dews of Herman. The same gentle hand lias led me along life's flow ery way and beside its uniuliled waters; and if ever my arm was raised lo do a deed of wrong, 1 or my heart steeled to conceive it, that gentle admonitory voice came whispering in my ear, and stayed the one midway and drew the iron from the other. And I well remember in my manhood's riper years, when deep sorrow fell upon my soul, and 1 would fain have drank ob livion from the wine cup's fiery bum, that ! same dark-eyed woman came, and bade me, in the name of God, to shun the falal snare; and, twining her arms around my neck, while her eyes beamed with love's deep inspiration, she poured oil upon the troubled waters; told me of purer hopes and higher aims, and in my eui whispered a golden word that has out-lived all sorrow. Lelia, would you know (he name ol IIIV first love? 'Tis MY MOTHER!" "O, Paul, I'll forgive you and will shatv Vout love; indeed 1 will." knew you would, Lelia. Second love is as dear as the first." celebrated lawyer once concluded an eloquent harangue to the jury against the pris oner, with 'He bared his arm to heaven—and stole the sugar.' prevent your hair from coming out, never let your wife catch you kissing the ser vant girl. YOL 1, NO. 40
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