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the altooha tribune.
, ucCBUM, ■•••«• c. DKEN,
h ‘‘- POBUBHMB AW> PEOPEXITOR*.
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jae ?°j*“ au( i Ki.-mWr. Notice. 116
iSnc..dmti.mg by the Jeer, three wneree,
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p.uineks notices fire cents per tine for every insertion.
Il.itoftry notices exceeding ten lines, fifty cents a squa
BALTIMORE LOCK HOSPITAL
. AULISUED A 9 A REFUGE FROM QUACKERY
xKe Only Place Where a Cure Can
Dii. JOHNSON has discovered the
-moei Certaiu, lipeedv and only Effectual Remedy in
• - L*r all Private Diseases; Weakness of the Back
I itrictaretf, Affections of the Kidneys and Blad
, , General Debility.
rViuiess, Dyspepsy, Languor, Low Spirits. Confusion
V;, Ji palpitation.of the Heart. Timidity, Tremblings.
b ‘ „f Sight or Giddiness, Disease of the Head.
T Uat None or Skin, Affections of the Liver, Lungs,Stom
l-h'..rtt)wels—those Terrible disorders arising from the
- it irv L llabits of Youth—those sbceet and solitary prac
moiv fsul totheii victims than the song of Syrens to
Hafiners of Ulysses, blighting their most brilliant
•‘.prt ur anticipations, rendering marriage .&c., impossi-
Z. .nxiaUv. who have become the victims of Solitary Vice,
fait dreadful and destuctive habit which annually sweeps
i aa uQtinulygiave thousands of Young Men of the boat
-t'lUtrfd talents kbd.brilliant intellect, who might other
hose entranced listening Senates with the thunders
. or Waked to ectfiay the living lyre, may call
rill* full confidence.
Uirrieti Persona, or Young Men cotemplatinp marriage,
i -lui aware of physical weakness, organic debility, defor
&c.. *poedUy cured.
ll* w ho places himself under the care of Dr. J. may re
iigi.-asly confide in his honor as a gentleman, ami confi
•’-atlc tvlv upon his skill as a.pbysician.
Immediately Cured, and full Vigor Restored.
tbi* Distressing Affection —which renders Life miserable
,3l niarrlagt* impossible—is the penalty paid by the
victim-ufimproper indulgences, \oung persons are to
1;1 - I * commit exces-es from not being awme of the dread
ful cjnseqaencoH that may ensue. Now, who that under
the subject will pretend to deny that the power q(
|-ro: real ion is lost sooner by those falling into improper
habits than by the prudent? Beside* being deprived the
pleasures of healthy offspring, the most serious and de
structive symptom* to both body and mind arise. The
-ystem becomes Deranged, the Physical and Mental Func
tions Weakened. Loh. of Procreative Power. Nervous Irri
tability; Dyspepsia, Palpitation of the Heart. Indigestion
Constitutional Debility, a Wasting of the Frame, Cough,
Consumption, Decay anil Death. '
OFFICE, NO. 7 SOUTH FREDERICK STREET,
L*-f: hadd side going from Baltimore street, a few doors
'tM’.ii the corner. Fail not to*observe name and number.
Letters must be paid and contain a stamp. The Doc
i-ir's Diplomas hang in his office
A CURE WARRANTED IN TWO DAYS,
iVo iltrcury or Nuuons Dmgs.
Mrmb Tof the Royal College of Surgeons, London. Grad*
cate from one of the most emiueat.Colleges in the United
and the greater part of whose life has been spent in
ibe hospitals of, Lendon, Paris, Philadelphia and else*
vli'Tt}. has effected some of the most astonishing cares
um wire ever known; many troubled with ringing In the
head and ears when asleep, great nervousness, being
farmed at sadden sounds, basbfalness, with frequent
Mushing, attended sometimes with derangement of mind,
wore cured, immediately.
TAKE PARTICULAR NOTICE.
Dr. J.addresses all those who Imre injured themselves
t y improper indulgence and solitary habits, which ruin
both body and mind, unfitting them for either business,
•tody, society or marriage.
Tneet are some of the sad and pro
inrwl by early habits of yonth, viz: Weakness of the
Back and Limbs, Pains in the Head, Dimness of Sight,.
L of Muscular Power, Palpitation of the Heart, Dys
r[wy, Nervous Irritability, Derangement of the Diges
hr-Kanctidns, General Debility, Symptoms of Consmup
Mestaixy.—The fearful effects of the mind are much to
- Ireaded—Loss of Memory, Confusion of Ideas, Do
ir-S(-ion of spirits, Evil-Forebodings. Aversion to Society.
Mf-Distrust, t*ore of Solitude, Timidity', Ac., are some of
:h<- evils produced.
Thousand* of persona of all ages can now judge what is
thi cause of their declining health,-losing their vigor, be
’tuiog weak, pale, nervous and emaciated, having a sin
gular appearance about the eyes, cough and symptoms of
Who have injured themselves by a certain practice in
lalgM In when alone, a habit frequently learned from
rvi! companions, or at'ilchool. the effects of which are
nightly felt, even when asleep, and if not cured renders
imposible,, and destroys both mind and body,
•hotiU apply immediately.
What a pity that ayoung man, the hope of his country,
the darling of his parents, should be snatched from all
(•roipects and enjoyments of life, by the consequence of
Aviating from the path of nature, and indulging in a
■•“ rum secret habit. Such persons must, before contera*
reflect ihat a sound mind and body are the moat necessary
requisites to promote connubial happiness. Indeed, with
out these, the journey through life becomes a weary pil
primage; the prospect hourly darkens to the view; the.
oiiQ.-I becomes shadowed with despair and filled with the
tueliioclioly reflection that the happiness o! another be
comes blighted with oar own.
DISEASE OF IMPRUDENCE. %
« hen the misguided and Imprudent votary of pleasure
nii'ls that he has imbibed the seeds of this painful dls
it too often happens that an ill-timed sense of shame,
tread of discovery, deters him from applying to those
from .education and respectability, can alone be
friend him, delaying till the constitutional symptoms of
this horrid disease make their appearance, such as ulcera
te I sore throat, diseased nose, nocturnal pain sin the bead
and lirubs, dimness of sight, deafness, nodes on the shin
t> iae« and arms, blotches on the head, face and extremi
ty*. progressing with frightful rapidity, till at last the
palate of the mouth or the bones of the nose fall in, and
tbe victim of this awful disease becomes a horrid otyect of
alteration,. till death puts a period to his dreadful
goffering*, by aendlnglum to that Undiscovered Country
froTu whence no traveller returns.*’ / ■
. ft is a melancholy fact Chat thousands fall .victims to
tnU terrible disease, owing to the upskillfulness of igno
r jnt pretenders, who, by the use of that Deadly
*‘.rcury. ruin the constitution and make the residue of
•ifu miserable. .
*.nj<t not vour live*,-»r health to the care of the many'
bolMmed and Wortluwe Pretenders, destltate of knovrU.i
”■}&' name or character, who copy Dr. Johnston’s adver-;
Jw-aifent*, or style themselves, in the newspaper*, rego-:
,ar '. r BJncafced Physicians, incapable of Caring, they keep
y*v trifling month after month, taking their filthy and
l*'>Uonotu compounds, or .as long as the smallest fee can .
/• obtained, and In despair, leave yon with ruined health
k,) "igh over your galling disappointment.
*”• Johnston is the only Physician advertising.
h-* cre^eQ tial or diplomas aiwav* hang in his office.
Hw remedies or treatment are’unknown to all others,
l'f e P &re d from a life spent in th« great hospitals of JBnrope,;
first in the coontVy acd a more extensive Private Prac- ;
Jhao any other Physician in the world.
, INDORSEMENT OF THE PRESS.
400 many thousands cured at this institution, year after
tw* *™*'numerous important Surgical operations '
Johnston, witnessed hy the reporters of the'
11*” 5 ‘‘Clipper,” and many oth*r papers, notice* of
hMiu. if™ a PP«*red again and again before the public, :
, standing a* a gentlemen of character and rev
PbaaiDihty, U a sufficient guarantee to the afflicted. >
skin diseases speedily cured.
» s*“* M fw'iTed uolcim post pah' and containing a ,
arwli i’ *■ uu tile reply Persons writiugshontd.mt4h
p.r. riPU ' P' ,nion °fadrertiaeroent describing sjmptoms
! lt . wlting abonid i>« particular in directing their 1
re to this Institution. In the following manner:
JOHNSTON. M. D..
Of the Baltimore Lock Hoapltal, Marjla
A HYMN FOR THE TIMES.
The following rereion of the 30tb Psalm. by\r. Watts,
is peculiarly adapted to the present condition oKonr na
tional affairs. No “ nattonal hymn*’ written since she war
commenced, is equal to it; >
Lord, bast thou cast the nation off?
Must rjjg forercr mourn f
Wilt thotf indulge immortal wrath *
Shall mercy ne’er return?
Our nation trembles at Thy stroke, .
And dreads Thy lifted band!
Oh, heal the people Thou hast broke,
And save the linking land 1
Lift np Thy banner In the field.
For those who fear Thy name:
Defend Thy people with Thy shield.
And pot our foes to shame.
Go with our armies to the fight.
Their gusrdian and their God:
In rain confed’rate powers unite
Against Thy lifted rod.
Our troops shall gain a wide renown,
By Thy assisting hand;
’Tib God who treads the mighty down
And makes the foeble stand.
WEABY OF LIFE.
Midnight was past, and the lights ot
the vessels lying at anchor in the stream
were beginning to be extinguished, when
two men hurried from different directions
toward the shore. The elder of the two
had already reached the strand, and was
preparing to make a leap, the design of
which was not to be mistaken ; but at that
instant the younger seized him by the arm,
“ Sir, I believe you want to drown
“You have guessed it. What is that
to you ?”
This was the answer, spoken in the
most angry tone.
“Nothing, I know. I would simply re
quest you to wait a couple of minutes—
when, if you like, we will make the great
journey together. Arm in arm—tfie best
way of dying.”
With these words the younger extended
his hand to th 6 elder, whose was not with
held. The former continued, in a tone of
“So be it! .Arm in arm ! Truly I did
not dream that a human heart would beat
with mine in this last hour I will not
seek to know who you are—an honest
man or a villain —come, let ns begin the
The elder held the young man back,
and fixing his dim half extinguished eyes
searchingly upon the countenance of his
“Hold. You seem to me too young to
end your life by suicide. A man of your
years has, still a.brilliant, alluring future
in his grasp
“Brilliant!” answered the young man,
scornfully. “What have I,to hope in the
midst of a world full of wickedness, false
hood, treachery' and unhappiness? Come,
“You are still young. You .must have
had very sorrowful experience to make life
already thus insupportable to you 1”
; “I despise mankind !”
“ Without exception.”
“ Well, then, you have ndw found a
man perhaps whom you will not, neces
sarily, despise. I have, believe me, dur
ing my whole life, lived an honorable
“Keally? That is highly interesting!
It’s a pity I had not earlier made your
“Leave me to die alone, young man!
Live on! Believe me, time ‘ heals all
wmiuids, and there are men. of honor yet to
be found.” :
“Now if you take this view, why are
you hurrying so fast to say ; ‘ Vale’ to
the world ?”
“ Oh, I. am an old sickly man, unable
to make a livelihood ; a man who cannot,
will not see his only child, his daughter,
blighting her youth, and laboring day and
night to support him. So, I would be
ap unfeeling father, I wbuld be barbarous,
if I lived on thus.”
“How, sir, you have a daughter who
does this for you ?” asked the young man,
“ And with what love, does she sacri
fice herself for me, and has only the tender
est words of love- —a sweet smile for me
“ And you want to commit suicide?
Are you mad?”
“ Shall I murder my daughter ? The
life which she is now leading is her ceh
tain death, ” answered the old man in a
v “ Good sir, come, go with me to the
nearest inn that is still open, and let us
drink a bottle of wine together. You
will relate to me your history, if you like,
I will let you hear mine. So much, how
ever, will I say to you beforehand.—
Chase all thoughts of self destruction, I
am rich, and, if things be as you say,
from henceforth you and your daughter
shall lead a pleasant life.”
The old man f followed the younger
ALTOONA, PA., THURSDAY, OCTOBER 16, 1862
without opposition. A tew minutes after,
over full glasses the elder said:
“My History is soon told. I was a
merchant’s clerk, hut always unlucky.
As I had nothing by inheritance mid the
young girl I married was poor, I was
never able to commence business on my
own account, and remained in a subordi
nate position. Finally, I was discharged
on account pf my years, and then began
the struggle for a subsistence. My wife
died of trouble, and now my poor child
wearies to -gain my support. I cannot
bear to see her working herself to death
for me—therefore it is better I go—you
“ Friend,” exclaimed the youth* man,
“you are the meet fortunate mimS ever
encountered in my life. It is to
call that misfortune. Nobody is easier to
help than you. To morrow I will make
my will, and you shall be—no resistance
—my heir. The coming night is my last.
Before this, however, 1 must see your
daughter, out of pure curiosity. I would
for once see how one looks who really
deserves the name of woman.”
But young man, what can it be that has
so early made you so unhappy V’ questioned
the elder, much moved.
“ 1 believe it was the wealth which my
father left me. . I was the only son of the
richest banker in the city. My father
died five yearsvsince, leaving me more than
was good for me. Since that time I
have been deceived and betrayed by every
one, without exception, with whom I
have had any connection. Some have
pretended friendship for me on account of
my money. Others have pretended to
love me—again for my money: and so
went on. I, often mingled, in the garb of
a simple Workman, with the masses, and
thus one day became acquainted with a
charming being, a young girl to whom
my whole heart soon went out in love.
1 disclosed to her neither my name nor
position. I,longed to be loved for my
self alone, and for a time appeared as if
1 were going to be happy —at last, at last I
The young girl and I, whom she still re
garded as a simple workman, met every
afternoon in the Marcusplatz where we
passed many happy hours. One day my
dear girl appeared with red eyes —she had
been weeping—and told me that we must
part; confessing that her life belonged to
another. With these words she tore her
self from me and disappeared in the crowd.
Her faithlessness decided my destiny. —
Vainly did I rush into the pleasures which
so-called “ good society” has to offer, but
found my lost peace of soul never, never!
I then determined to bring my joyless ex
istence to a close.”
“ Unhappy young man,” said the elder,
wiping his eyes, “ from my whole heart I
pity you. I must acknowledge that I was
more fortunate than you; for I, at least, was,
by two women —my wife and daughter—
Will you give me your address, good
sir. that I may convince myself of the truth
of your story ? It is not exactly mistrust,
but I must see to believe. To-morrow I
will arrange affairs as I have told you.
You will remain in this inn to-night and
in the morning early I will return. Give
me your word of honor, that you will not,
in the meantime, speak to any one of what
has taken place between us.”
“You have my word. Go to my dwell
ing, to my daughter i, and you will find
that I have told you the simple truth.—
My name is Wilhelm S- . Here is my
With these words he handed the young
man .a paper, giving the locality of his
dwelling. It lay in a suburb inhabited
by tbe poorer classes, at some distance
from the city proper.
“And my name is Carl T here
upon said the young man. “Take this
bank note, it will reach till my return.”
Carl rang for the waiter, had the pro
prietor called, commended the old man to
his care in suitable terms, and left the
Hardly had the morning broke, when
Carl found himself on the way to the
suburbs where lived the daughter of the
old man with whom he had become ac
quainted under such peculiar circumstances.
It was hot without trouble that he found
the house. It was a poor place. The
young man knocked, opened the door and
involuntarily stepped back. What ,did
he see? The young, girl whose inconsist
anoy had made his life a burden unbeara
ble, stood before him. She bad grown
pale—very pale; but he knew her at the first
glance; it waa Bertha whom he had once
hoped to call his own. At his appearance
the young girl sprang towards him, over
come with joy, holding out her little hand.
The young man waived her back, exclaim
“ You did not expect to see me ?”
The poor girl sank into a seat and cov
ered her pale, beautiful countenance with
‘‘Are you Wilhelm S *s daughter ?”
asked the young man, coldly, after a pause,
“lam,” answered the maiden timidly
“ And who and where is that other to
whom, as you told me at parting, your
life belonged ?”
“ The other is my father,” said the
(~INDEPENDENT IN EVERYTHING.]
young girl, looking up to the young man
with a glance that spoke the tenderest
With lightning quickness the truth
dawned upon him, the scales fell from his
eyes—sndendly all was clear. Speech
lessly he rushed to Bertha, took her in his
arms and pressed her to his breast. '
“ Come to vour father?” he faltered to
the young giH.
“My father ? O, God, I forgot; where
is he 9 He has been bat all night. I
have watched for him in tears the long
“ Your father is saved. ; He is with
me,” was Carl’s answer, as jhe hurried
the young girl out through the streets to
the arms of her—his father.
A fortnight later, in the midst of the
greatest splendor, the marriage fo the rich
banker Carl T , to Bertha S
took place.- I —Home Journal.
ONE WAY TO GET A “SMILE.”
If half the cleverness exhibited in petty
swindling were only diverted to purppses
of honesty, our list of business men would
be largely increased. But the poverty
that sharpens the wit blunts the moral
sense, and rogues glory in their skillful
Three ragged, wretched topers stood
shivering upon a street corner. They had
not a penny between them, and neither
had drank a drop—within half an hour.
They debated the deeply interesting ques
tion—how to obtain the next glass; after
many impracticable suggestions, one of
them said: j
“I have an idea; we’ll all go into the
next shop and drink.”
“Drink!” replied his companions, “that
is easily said; but who’s to pay ?”
“Nobody. Do as I tell you. I’ll take
Following the speaker’s directions, his
two companions entered an adjoining rum
mer}’ and called for whiskey skins. The
place was kept by a Dutchman. After
he had waited on his customers, and while
they were enjoying their orthodox bever
age at the counter, in walked toper No. 1.
“How are ye!” to the Dutchman.
“How de do ?” said the Dutchman.
Toper No. 1 glanced suspiciously at to
pers Nos. 2 and 3, and beckoned the pro
“Do you know these men ?” he asked
The dutohman started.
“I know no more as dat dey call for de
“Don’t take any money of them,” whis
pered No. 1.
“Sirl I take no money for the whiskey,”
said the astonished landlord.
“No; they are informers,”
“Yes; they buy liquor of you so as to
inform against you.”
“Ah! I understand,” said the Dutch
“Dey not catch me. Tank you, sir.
Yqu take somethin’ ?”
“I don’t object,” and toper No. 1 took
a swig with his companions.
“What’s to pay?” quoth No. 2, putting
his hand into his empty pocket.
“Nothing,” said the Dulchman. “Me
no sell liquor, me keeps if for my,lrens. ”
And having smiled the Supposed infor
mers out of the door, he manifested his
gratitude by generously iriviting the sup
posed anti-informer to take a second glass.
Of course No. I did not at all decline the
A Flting Machine. —Jeremiah Ran
dall, of Ohio, writes to ths Scientific Amer
ican that he has made a machine that rises
or flies from its resting place by Its own
motive power.. He says|-I put two clock
springs on to the lower enfi of two shafts
one within the other, and running in op
posite directions. On the top of each
shaft are long arms with screw wings, so
arranged that when .put hi motion by the
springs the machine rises up. At the
eighth revolution the power of the springs
are exhausted, consequently it is raised
but a little way. But it shows the prin
ciple on which a steam may be
made to travel in the air jwith or without,
a balloon. This machine acts on the
principle of a propeller, except that the
propeller pushes, and this pulls, and the
arms of this are longer that the spent air
may not come against the machine.
tat A modest married lady at a tea
party was listening to the conversation
of two dames who were talking about the
smartness and good looks of their respect
ive husbands. Said she, “I listened to
them with some mortification when !
reflected that my James would soon come
to take me home, and what a contrast
would his apperance be to the two gentle
men whose wonderful merits I bad heard
discussed. Well, after a while the men
came for their wives, and 1 had an op
portunity to see them alongside my hus
band, and 1 declare to you that Jimmy
was a perfect Adonis by the side of the
others! So I made up my mind that
women with, inferior husbands were very
apt to “crack them up* in company.”
STORY OF A FEMALE REFUGEE
FROM ALABAMA I
The correspondence of the Cincinnati
Commercial from Bottle Creek, Tennessee,
gives the story of a Mrs. Vanseiver, forth*
erly of Philadelphia, but now froip Mont
gomery, the late traitor capital. She had
been doing a fancy dry goods business in
thaf city for two years. She accuses the
rebels of fiendish barbarity to the prisoners;
When they reached Montgomery, the
sick ones were left for several hours in
the' streets; totally uncared for while
the young ladies of Montgomery! passed
them by with the mocking jest and fkrisive
laugh, “ Good, good, you Yanked dogs,
why didn’t you stay* at home P’ Otoe
lady by the name of Bud, a strong se
cessionist, acted the good Samaritan part;
She went into the street, raised several of
them, and assissied them to one of th|ere owq
hospitals, provided them food and mledicine,
and was. rendering them every assistance id
her power; but this was too mucjh; the
Vigilance Committee called on her and
very quietly told her that she must stop;
She still persisted, and though one of their
kind, was threatened with banishment if
she did not desist from all labor of love;
She was assisted by' Mrs. Kady, another
kind hearted Nightingale. Every desert
has its oasis, so with this Sodom of se
Many sudden deaths occurred among
our men ; eighteen died in one single day;
She also gave an account of the tragic
death of Lieutenant Bliss, of the Second
Michigan Artillery. His men were nearly
perished with hunger; he had wandered
forth from his prison, in search of some
thing to sustain life. In his ramble he ap
proached the house of another female Sa
maritan, who had at times, by bribing
the negroes or disguising herself, secretly
conveyed food to our men. He was close
ly followed by one of the Provost Guards.
She was gt the window; he made known
his errand; she inquired his name; he gave
it. “ Certainly you can,” was her answer.
She turned into the house and procured
it; was returning, when she heard'Bliss
exclaim : “ You certainly won’t shoot me j
for trying to keep from starving!” “ Yes,
you Yankee— ;” a gun was fired,
and she reached the window in time to
see poor Bliss in his death struggle upon
the pavement. Mrs. Vanseiver then
turned to the guilty murderer with the
expression, “ You wretch, God wiU hold
you guilty for your diabolical act; he turned
cooly away, leaving the dead body of
Bliss lying there. The Provost Martiial
was duly notified of the terrible deed, but
no futher notice was taken, of it. A few
days afterwards this murderer was taken
very sick; the ladies of the city vied with
each other in restoring him to health.
His name is George Sanders of Perryille.
Alabama. ■ . 4 :
She also confirms the banging of twen
ty-seven Ohioans who were captured at
Atlanta. Four were hung at mid-day,
the remainder in the evening. One of
them, in his dying struggles, broke ;the
rope and fell, piteously exclaiming, “ Oh,
my neck—oh, my dear mother 1” They
gave him another trial, and with the sa
cred name of mother upon bis lips, our
pet soldier was launched into eternity.-
They died like true men, they denied not
their faith, but uttering prayers for their
country, home„ and friends, passed away,
adding another foul crime to the already
long catalogue of damning wrongs. No
common soldiers were they. I have seen
them on the field of danger, no fear
blanched their cheek, no quiver of the
muscle; but like true Ohioans, they went
into the contest to die, if necessary, in de
fence of their fatherland, I saw them on
the eve of their departure for East Ten
nessee, to assist her suffering sons in break
ing the bonds of the fierce Pharaohs of the
South; betrayed and captured they have
A few days! ago she saw what she calls
the shadow of one Yancey, the great con
spirator, who i boasted in the streets of
Montgomery “that he was willing to
drink all the Yankee blood that was tiled
in the war, for they were too cowardly to
fight.” He is but the wreck of the Yan
cey who strutted his brief, period in the
Court of St. James, and, like Pope, Walk
er, and many others, goes mourning around
whangdoodle like, in the valleys of Ala
bama, over the fate of his glorious Con
federacy, finding relief at the mouth of a
So far as other reports have been re
ceived they confirm Mrs. Vanseiverts
statement and she offered repeatedly to
make oath to them.
•a* The difference between war and peace
has been well defined by one oftheiandents
—“ln time of peace, the sons bury their
fathers; in time of war the fathers bury
their sons. 1 ’
(ST “ Is that bell ringing for fire, Davy ?”
inquired a youth from the Green Moun
“No, they have too much fixe some
where,.and they ring the beU fed wafer.”
•T A full heart is as difficult to carry as
a ful cup—the least thing upsets if. ! |
EDITORS AND PROPRIETORS.
WHAT IS THE HARDEST HODS
To be shot dead is one of the easiest
modes of terminating life; yet, rapid as it
is, the body has leisure to fed and reflect
On the first attempt by one of the frantic
adherents of Spain to assasinate William,
Prince of Orange, who took the lead in
the revolt of theKetherlands, the ball pass
ed through the bones of the face and brought
him to the ground. In the instant that
preceded stupefaction, he was able to
frame the notion that the ceiling of the
room had fallen and crushed him. The
cannon shot which plunged into the brain
of Charles the Twelfth, did not prevent
him from seizing his sword by the hilt
The idea of an attack and the necessity for
defence, was pressed on him by a blow
which we should have supposed too tre
mendous to leave an interval for thought
But it by no means follows that the in
flicting of fatal violence is accomplished by
a pang. From what is known of the first
effect of a gun-shot wound, it is probable
that the impression is rather stunning than
acute. Unless death be immediate, the
pain is as varied as the nature of the in
juries, and these are past counting up.
But there is nothing singular in the dying
sensation, though Lord Byron remarked
the physiological peculiarity that the ex
pression is invariably that of languor,
while’in death from a stab, the counte
nance reflects the natural character, of
gentleness or ferocity, to the death. Some
of these cases are of interest to shew with
what slight disturbance life may go on
under a mortal wound till it finally comes
to a sudden stop. A foot soldier at Wat
erloo, pierced by a musket ball in the hip,
begged water of a trooper, who chanced
to possess a canteen of beer. The wound
ed man drank, returned his heartiest
thanks, mentioned that his regiment was
nearly exterminated, and having proceed
ed a dozen yards on his way to the rear,
fell to the earth, and with one convulsive
movement of ids limbs, concluded his ca
reer. ‘Yet his voice,’ said the trooper, who
himself tells the story, “gave scarely the
smallest sign of weakness.” Captain Ba
sil Hall, 'who, in his early youth, was
present at the battle of Carumma, lim
singled out, from the confusion which
consign to oblivion the woes and gallantry
of war, another instance, extremely simi
lar, which occurred on that occasion. An
old officer, who was shot in the head, ar
rived pale and feint at the temporary hos
pital, and begged the surgeon to look at
his wound, which was pronounced mortal.
“Indeed, I feared so,” he responded, with
impeded utterance, “and yet I should like
very much to Uve a little longer were it
possible.” He laid his sword upon a stone
at his ride, “as gently," says Hall, “as if
its steel had been burned to glass, and al
most immediately sank dead upon the turf."
A Man o? Nkkvk.—A venerable
American judge relates the following an
ecdote of a soldier of the revolution:
The morning following the battle of
Yorktown, I had the curiosity to attend
the wounded. Among others whose limbs
were so much injured as to require ampu
tation, was a musician, who had received
a musket ball in the knee. As usual in
such cases, preparations were made to
prevent the possibility of his moving.—
Says the sufferer:
“Now, doctor, what would you be at?”
“My lad, I’m going to takeoff your
leg, and it is necessary that you, should be
“I’ll consent to no such thing. You
may pluck the heart from my bosom, but
you’ll not confine me. Is there a violin
in the camp? If so, bring it to me.”
A violin wasfurnished, and after tuning
“ Now, doctor, begin.”
And he continued to play until the op
eration, which lasted about forty minutes,
was completed, without missing a note or
moving a muscle.
Bctchkkt at Four Si. Charles, Ar
kansas.—lt is stated by Colonel Sanford
that the bodies of about forty men were
recovered from too water off Fort St,
Charles, all of them shot in the head and
breast. Some of them had five or six
balls in them. They were sailors, and
bad jumped overboard from toe steamer
Mound City when her boiler exploded-
Col. Fry, toe rebel commander, denied,
when he was taken prisoner, on being ac
cused of it by Col. Fitch, that be bad
given any orders to shoot our sailors when
struggling in toe water, bat one of his
men who was mortally wounded confessed
it to a surgeon. The order was in tbcae
worth : “Shoot every d—d Yankee who
sticks his head above water.”
A Lcckt Discovert. —The new Turk
ish Minister of Finance has mads adis
covery which, coming from Constantino
ple, is almost miraculous—he has actually
found a large quantity of gbli and Wftar
coin in the Turkish
treasure trove, whkh is estimated at new
half# naßiondollare, is ■ supposed tohave
been concealed In tile
upwards of a century. ■ .
\ NO. 37.