felery. * SC *AC*P(M tf »*•*»»♦ P a „...■ gyriwaggy, sSSSg^ } T u *''' Jtttw r - aarr *^nThL «“ u> Bt - y Sis Is i 2 Issisll i saiui f Q«fBl{- HSPIi ' «** ll D BAKERY! JKKD ANNOUN Itooa* «nd Tidalty tbmt hr Som of i, NCTB, SPICKS )> for the HaDd*}*. a good rtnek of plain 8, RAISINS, &0. ottlnjw. , Molasses, Balter, B WHEAT FLOUR, • CORK MEAL, AC., Urn or null qoutttlet.. 7 *«* and Jqa aril) fin) town. JACOB WIBK, jloNery K SALOON, ER WOULD IN itooaa and vicinltjtfast fate ff FRUIT STORK, It tides toliebad. tad Itagraft SALOON Kb, will arrrr up OYfi^Sfifi ,*r JPI3SSaUoay» on hand. tawplUr cake*, caodUa, Ac., incite* a ahan af|nbUc is render full muUUction to . *» an V irgi nU attest, two i otto jmmSi. BSWON WHICH ptteri, tb« . »«. *■» U at kfiritoek asd work. PEOPEXITOR*. .Uiiam. i,p«yeble iuterUbly in advance,) sl^o. Jf'ippr, dincoßtinned »t the eipirUion of the time f .iJ f"' TSKMB OF - 1 insertion . 2 do. 3 do. : iaw ..r * 2fi $ 37K $ 60 '■” T ‘ tZ e i S line.)-- 60 76 1 00 iW . a ) 1 00 1 50 2 00 >24 “ ).. 1 50 ,2 30 2 50 ; ii„e we*k«ftudlßM thnn three montbe, 25 cente s r ?iiuare (or encb insertion. _ Smooths. 6 months'. 1 yew. „....* 160 *3 00 *8 00 . T iliM»«r ; 2 60 4 00 7 00 ■me ssniri-, 4 00 6 00 10 00 I‘° A 00 8 00 12 00 ;i,ree \ a- 600 10. 00 14 00 8-8 jae ?°j*“ au( i Ki.-mWr. Notice. 116 iSnc..dmti.mg by the Jeer, three wneree, ofa^U^i-^r^t^^rVndiiiduelin ' -iii i>A charged according to the •boyo rates. Uu-rtisemen .4 not marked with the number of Uiser paired, will be continued rill forbid and charged ac- u* the shore terms, . 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 be Obtained- 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- YOUNG MEN 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. MARRIAGE 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. ORGANIC WEAKNESS 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. OR. JOHNSON. 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 :i'D. 4c. 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 consumption’ YOUNG MEN 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* plating MARRIAGE, 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. . r STRANGERS *.njUonotu 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 Choitf 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. Jpjletl 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, exclaiming: ® “ Sir, I believe you want to drown yourself!” “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 .seeming enthusiasm— “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 journey together!” The elder held the young man back, and fixing his dim half extinguished eyes searchingly upon the countenance of his companion exclaimed: “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, ;quick!” “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?” “ 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 man.” “Keally? That is highly interesting! It’s a pity I had not earlier made your acquaintance.” “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, surprised. “ 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 always.” “ 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 desparing voice, 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 know all!” “ 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— sincerley loved.” 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 address.” 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 house. 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 ing: “ You did not expect to see me ?” The poor girl sank into a seat and cov ered her pale, beautiful countenance with her hands. ‘‘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 love. 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 night through.” “ 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 subterfuges. 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 the responsibility.” 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 prietor aside. “Do you know these men ?” he asked mysteriously. The dutohman started. “I know no more as dat dey call for de whiskey skins.” “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,” “Hey! informers?” “Yes; they buy liquor of you so as to inform against you.” “Ah! I understand,” said the Dutch man. “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 invitation. 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 cession. 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 fallen. , 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 brandy-bottle; 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 tains “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 TOMB. 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 lashed down./’ “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 he said: “ 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. ■ . £ -J& :*f Jh \ NO. 37.