VOLUME 19. THE WEEKLY OBSERVER, aria PA: SATURDAY MORNING JULY 22, 1848 WHAT THE WHIGS SAID OF GEN. TAYLOR Since Gen. Taylor hasforred the whigs to take hint as their ,candidate against the will of vino-tenths of the ian‘, 'and in the-face of his own declaration that unless should nominate him, he would run as anindepentl tut candidate, Democrats cannot be Maimed for disen tcnibing some of the sayings of those WhOttow profess to, Tigard him as the embodiment of all that is groat as a f latesman, soldier and scholar. But, say these consistent 7 ,atletneu, this is what wo said before his nomination— hating been notninated, we are bound as good party men, to waive our first preferences and support him.— .Centletnen whigs, every lino that contained an argument xinst him then, is an argument against hint now—a bake of tho course of his present friends—a bitter M oth to the bravo man you now wish to make a tool of.— If Gen. Taylor was unfit' for President six months since, is unfit now. But we forbear comment, and leave the , Aloa ing from the Boston Atlas, two weeks before Gon. Tailor was nominated, to speak for itself. The Atlas, r .,‘,lleet, is the loading whig paper in New England, and goes for Taylor, as this fully proves, without "why, • wherefo - Vo;" "We belly° it is well known by ibis timoihat wo aro It in favor of-the nomination of Gen. Taylor. . . We haVe done many things for our party not agreca y„ to IN but we never yet tried to delude any persons :,..intbrined than ourselves into the belief that a man ~.I L General Taylor's qualities ought to be President of Fnited States. Wo make no doubt that there aro ivn in Mr. .layly's district, Virginia, who believe that II i ,noal 'fa) or is moderately well informed, but we shall :I , t Iva ad of r reputation, in this land of free schools,? by sanng that we believe there is oat: person in Tills COM ficallealth, with a beard on, who believes any such thing. . I But he is arailahle, it is said. lotions tier has not nu impana!, twee cow•idered as . Iwiving some thing to do ,ah ;wall billy. A certain - than was once made l',:s YER MI bt eLmi.e of iiiii.i eellilTY:--eftell one of his electors, I r , )1111V, 10 he ehown, threw his vote for th'e weakest man 'lll the a...enibl, electing — hint almost unanimously, to !Co. a•foni.liment a a ll. . Ne know there aro men of good senso not, aide to F:ngli4h, but wo do not think any each need tar General Tay for as a rival, except in the ratter re p - lewditrer, it strikes us, as to what makes avail .,lo‘. Now the fact that a man introduced. "b100d ,.m1." into the Florida war to hunt down - the Semi , due. , not make hint, in our mind, any more avail -3N 3 candidate for the Presidency; nor is our entlm ,lll neakeued overmuch by the fact, that in this age :,311 01% n, two or three hundred slaves, and works them Stoics as Louisiana and Illississippi. The fact a :loa n Ilan not slept under n roof for sonic time, 110 could have done so, might commend him to the 14-Heads or the Choctaws, but we really don't see .tv nis going to prepare him for the White house. it don't mind a Roust" OITII OR TWO when a man I• the tooth-ache or the gout, but we cannot see how a .Lt of calling upon "St nboro" for aid, is going to make Ina available with two or hundred thousand on•van voters. eishe-tency we know is not an available quaffs but a I memory is, and a s (Tuning regard for the tram itc rih!e: The indention. !Twos er, governs; ice can there , overlook the directly Apposite statements in Geu. aloes letters of August 3d, 1817, and April :Nth, 1848. us he says a man of some experimme in state affairs nld be selected,(as a candidate for the presidency,) I that ho would cheerfully are - init.:we in such a choice m the other, lie says that the reports, that lie would do . circulating in the northern papers, have no founds is in "any verbal or written statement of (mine) his." 1(• mistake wan probably made by , the' letter-writers, ho mrem to be as careless of his interests' as aro some !the editorial friends of ,11r. Webster of his. it rumored that there are men in Boston—wr. have am them-4who compare Gen. Taylor to Washing- MI we have to say is, that such gentlemen are ex i!suzlv ironical, and we are-glad for their sakes that •lengton left no immediate heir over-sensitive about 111:siGNATI.ON OF GOVERNOR SQUNK ►'runt the Ilarrithurg Democratic Union. t becomes our pitiful duty to announce to the people Peon:lvania, that by an insertable decree of Provi ie.', our titost excellent Governor has been laid on a of Hckne,s, from which there now seems to be no - 0" of restoration: and with that magnanimity which • eltararteri , ed all his acts, of his own free will and ac d. without a single suggestion hating been made to by any of his com 7 titutioppl advisers, ho has resigned the baud~ of the peopi• the trust with which they had th••d him, in order that they may I choosc a successor at election to take place on the second Tuceday of Oc ,er next. In all his public' nets the good of the people has been -last the heart of the Governor, and this solemn duty .1 all human probability the last public act of his life— euhas in its true light the character of Governor Shunk, tb mg prayer seems to be that the will of the pee '- of dui Commonwealth may be carried out. .Our pen uls cc to speak' on this subject as we would desire; we efore cl)se with presenting to the public theresigna ch,,f Elie Governor, witnessed by Henry Buehler, - Esq., :lie Rev. Dr. DeWitt, Pastor of the Presbyterian Larch of our borough, Aepropl e of Pennsylrania: It truing pleased Divine Providence to deprive me of • mength necessary to the further discharge of the du of tour Chief Magistrate, and to lay me on a bedof 'kne., from which I rim admonished by my physicians ''i tm own increasing debility, I may, in all human pro :u}, dt:„ never rise, 1 have resolved, upon mature reflect. .1 under a conviction of duty, on this day, to restore to ' l . the trust with which your suffrages have clothed m order that you may avail yourselves of the provi on of the Constttaion, to choose a successor at the next , cneral olection. 1 therefore, hereby, resign the office Governor of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, and reel this, Inv resignation, to - be,filed in the office of the • , reran' of lite commonwealth. In taking leave of you, under circumstances go solemn, •Pfili my gratitude for the confidence you have reposed :sly prover is, that peace, virtue. intelligence and • , i 'z l ". may prevado all your borders—that the free in - .'ition s )ou have inherited from your ancestors, may -2.1111 min:Tared till the latest posterity—that the same :Providence,- which has already, so signally, blessed may conduct you to a still higlier state of individual ,n tiarhappiness-- : and when the world shall close )ou, as I feel it is soon about to close upon me, that "'" enjoy the consolations of the Christian's faith, ‘,/ be 'gathered, without a wanderer lost, into the fold ite Great Shepherd above. I litrosio:Ro, July 9. 18,18. FRS. R. SHUNK. 1 7' The Boston Times assures the public that there no Democrats among the ton thousand persons at iitag the late Worchester Convention. Not - even the Mr. Morton, the self-elected delegate to most of cent bolting Conventions. We learn from Cincinnati. that no ono who for past had acted with the democratic jiarty. ParticiPa ci the recent Van Buren disunion meeting in that over which the foderalista and sore-heads and just A' "idea in g." Chase, tho orator for the occasion, has 'ct , oltd a democratic ticket, and Taylor, of the Sig "" scam the chief busybody, voted for Burney in •st. o they go. Tho L'ourer des Estate Unis. the French paper tilitheti at New York, remarking upon Gen. Taylor's -l a:nonen for the Presidency, pays the following neat ''Plenent to Gen. CAS3I-..../t will in all probability, tuli in giving to the Union a President of rare modesty traplicitv, of singularly correct judgment. and of ..ed •inceiltv." .., , .. s . . , . ' ' .:,-,' .'.., ..,,,,. .... :•: . • '`,.,', :, ..! 1. I ..., .._. ... •,,,,... , .. .„ „„. ~,,,_•::_.:,:,, : ,::.,, ...,• . _.. , ~ . „, •.•: . ,„.. ."„, .:_rE''''ll . .. , . . . . , ~ ; t,,..,.• „,t, ~„ ~.. . i _. . ......v , . , . .: ~. . , . THE CONSTITUTION OF THE FREN,CII REPUBLIC. FROM GALLIGNANI'S MESSENGER, Suitt 20. The sitting of the National Assembly yesterday, was marked by a most important event—the presentation of the draft of the constitution for the French Republic.— This important document, which was read to the As= sembly by M. Armand Marra.st, the reporter of the Spe cial committee appointed to draw it up, excited the dot p est interest, and was listened to in religious silence. It consists of one hundred and thirty-nine articles, and tho following are the principal points set forth in them : ' The Legislative power is to consist of ono National Assembly, composed of 750 representatives, elected for three years, by universal suffrage. The head of tho Republic is to be a President, nominated for four years by universal suffrage; any person can be elected who has attained the ago of 30 years, and is a French citizen.— The President cannot bo re-elected, unless four years have elapsed from leaving before held the chief office in 'the repuline. ; the President to be lodged at the expense of the republic, with a salary of 600,000 fr. a year. A Vice President is to bo named by the National Assembly, also for four years, Out of a list presented by the Presi dent ; he is to replac'e the President when absent; should the Presidentship beCome vacant by deceits°, resignation, or any other cause, the Vice President does not then take his,plaee„ but a new 'erection is proceeded to within a 4pe riod of one month. A Council of State, consisting of a t least forty members, i to be elected by ballot for three years by the National Assembly, in the first month of each legislature ; should any member of the Assembly be chosen, a now election shall be immediately proceed ed to, to supply their place as representatives of the peg phi ; the Council of State aro todraw up such bills as the government may think fit to bllblllit to tho Assembly; and to examine such bills as emanate from the Assembly itself ; it is also to exercise full control over the depart mental and mon'cip4administrations—all courts of jus tice ore to be open, and the jury s)stein to be extended to certain correctional and civil matters, to be determined by law ; the judges of premiere instance and appeal, are nominated by the President of the Republic, and the judges of the Court of Cassation by the National As sembly, and all for life ; a high court of justice is to bo appointed for the purpose of judging without . appeal all accusations made by the National Assembly, either against one of its own members, or against the minis ters, or against the President; also all persons accused of plots or treason against the state, are to be tried by this high tribunal. The practice of having substitutes in the army is interdicted—the punishment of death is abolished for political offences—slavery is abolii4fied in all the French erovinees—the press is free—and ever!' mar; a right to print, or cause to be printed whatever lie plea ses, subject to such guarantees to the state as 'may be deemed necessary—the censorship is forever abolished— all religions are allowed in France, and the various min isters of the religions recognized by the state arc to be paid—public instruction is to be free, bni subject to the superintendenee of the State. The national debt is guaranteed--property - is inviolable—gratuitous educa : tiutlls 10 he given .to the working classes, so as to prepare them fur their different tailings—labor is to be essential ly guaranteed by opinlity'of rob.tionA bctineeit the b%4.1,- men and the employers by the establishment of great public works, Algeria and the colonies are French ter ritory, and to be governed by special land—tho Legion of Honor P 4 to be maintained.. Such are the principal features of this all-important document. A SCOUNDREL The New Orlemis aening Mercury gives the follow ing instance of a man's rascality and a woman's folly. A man at one time our schoolmate, chum, and bed fellow, by lona labor had succeeded in lA:Mating himself, and was nearly prepared to enter upon the practice of the law. He received en appointment of Deputy Post master in a small town in Maine, and the next notice we had of him came in a letter of his own handwriting, de , ted in jail, praying for efforts in his behalf, M save him from the severe penalty which would follow his condem nation for robbing letters of their contents. Letters had been rifled, their contents stolen, the money identified and traced to him, and ho was found guilty, in spite of all efforts to save 'Rini, and sentenced to seven years' im— prisonment in the penitentiary or county jail. Be chose the latter. When first accused, ho. was engaged to a beautiful and accomplished woman, who, with a true wo man's heart, clung td him and his fortunes, the more for tune seemed to flown upon him. With efforts worthy of manhood and a better cause, she struggled and toiled to avert the terrible verdict of "gnilti•," and its conse quent punishment and infamy: but in .vain. Through abuse, discouragement. and obloquy, she wavered not. till the fearful word fell from the court; aqd then, in a fit she fell upon the floor. Well had it been if she had passed away forever in that state of unconsciousness! But condemnation and the sentence" nnd the prison bars could not blot out the warn 4 and light and energy of her love. With ardor unabut6d she procured a peti tion, sought out many of the most influential men of the nation; obtained their signatures, wont to Washington, saw the President, and her energy, perseverance, elo quence, beauty and distress, procured the pardon of her 101'6 . , after several years of his incarceration and her sorrow and heroism had been passed. She flew to his cell, she opened his prison door, she set the captive free, and he—deserted her, ruined in reputation and broken in heart, and married another. When list we heard from the scoundrel ho was living in Boston, Mass., whom wo hope ho may have the pleas ure of reading this true history of his villany. And if he feels any uncertainty of his identity, let him go to the town ok Orono, Me., or to the recorder-of the United States, and inquire for the name of one Mr. Woods, who figured conspicuously some ton or twelve years ago as a thief, mail roldier, convict, seducer, and an ingrate. Rum inKAIILE, ADVENTURW: WITH A thIAR.—It was one day during the present week, that two boys, sons of Seth Manes, of Bradford township. Pa., ono perhaps fiftden and the other not over eight or ten years of age, discov ered a very large bear carrying a sheep through one of the fields. The eldest boy ran to the house, got a gun, gave chase, and on coining up to it, shot, anduoUnded it in the nose. Ile then commenced reloading his gun, and whilst he was doing so, his little brother ran forward, or by some means (the particulars we did not learn,) be came engaged with the boar. The older brother then ran to the relief of tho little fellow, and when ho reached him received a stroke from the bear on' the arm,.which knocked him down, and the three then rolled together, gun and all. Presently the older brother got loose, pull ed the gun from under the bear, and, while it was hold ing the child in its arms, deliberately shot it dead. The bear is represented to have been a very largo one, and to this fact, perhaps, the lesser boy is indebted for his life, and perhaps both of them, as his arms were too long to crush so small an object, and the wound in his nose and mouth prevented him from biting.—Clearfield Bannon llon. Rich. Broadhead has published an address in die Easton Argus, to the Electors of the 10th district, declining a re-election to Congress, At the expiration of his present term, Mr. B. will have served sit years in the National Courcils,'in which he has at all times sus tained a high reputation as an able debater and consistt ont Democrat. Ho carries with him into his,retirement the good wishes of all who share the pismire of his ac• quaintanco. °9ATURDA MORNI*, Ogled p l a4trp, anti illiacellang. tiezzi, Awake, old spirit of the past— Awake l a nmiput thy armor on— Nail freedom's ensign to the mast, Nor falter till the fight is won. _ Heed not disunion's croaking voice, Expose each dark'and damning plan ; Elect the lader of yonr choice— 'rho gallant CASS of Michigan. Thick, the stars grow dim, of freedom braves the lea, of steel put trust in Him ti l ted upon the midnight sea; old a beacon bright, each faint and sinking man ; waving in the light, to of Cass of Michigan. The eh} , ie The barli Her hearut Who For they be To chee And o'er it; The notO The grey-beard soldier leaps for joy, The seamen on the deep is glad, The old frohtiersman, when a boy, Remembers the adventurous lad Who trod the wilderness alone Whore Millions now adore the man, And toll how proudly valor shone In imwts' Cess of Michigan. _ Whattlice I With can m Buena Vista frowned one grim and glittering files, There was ;host in battle crowned; - An army from the British isles; The brave of earth, who proudly sought Our nag p soil with direful ban; But they'resson sad were taught - By LEW!) I CASS of Michigan. In princely Halls, by gilded thrones, Ho stoooho champion of the free; Ho heard tile fettered seaman's groan, And °pod the prisons of the sea. The starry flg no longer bowed To banners borne in Europe's van, And freemen on their hills wore proud Of LEWIS CASS of Michigan. Firm in the rinciples of right By Demo ritic sliges taught, Ho keeps his sword rind honor bright. And wrongs us not in deed or thought; As when th 9 glittering blade was broke, Before a base, dishonored man, He stands, e'en now, our forest oak— The gallant Cess of Michigan. THE SAG ENO DM Land of 0 e forest and the rock - Of dark Inc lake an d mighty river— Of mountains rpred a toll to mock -My own gee nd forever. IA ntratEa. Never was 'co try more fruitful than our own with rich materials of romantic and tragic interest, to call into excercise the, finest talents of the drama tist, and novelist. 1 Every cliff and headland has its aboriginal legend; the village, now thrifty and quiet, had its days of sle ighter and conaflg,rat ion, its tale of devoted love o ! cruel teachery; w hile , the city, now tumultuous vtitli the pressure of commence, in its "day of small t lingo," had its bombardment and foreign army. and is handful of determined freemen, it ho achieved prodigies of single handed valor.— Now that men are, daily learning the worth of hu manity, its hopes and its trials coming nearer home to thought and affection; now that the complicated passions of refine() and artificial life are becoming lessimportant thah the broad, deep, g - enuine mani festitions of the common mind, we may hope for a bolder and more conrageonsliterature, we may hope to-see the drama - lie itself frinn sensualism and fri volity, and rise td the Shaksperian dignity of true passion, while thekomarke will learn btter its true pound, and will create, rather than portray—delin eate, ruttier than dissect 'human sentiment and emo tion. The State, of M:ine is peculiarly.rich in its histo rically romantic il associations. Settled ns it was prior to the landing of the Pilgrims, first under Raleigh Gilbert, and subsequently by Sir Ferdia nand° Gorges, whom colony it. is fair, in the Omens° of testimony, to m i ter never left the country after 1616, but contin l ed ha employ th emselves in the fisheries, and in some commerce with the West In dies, up to the time of their final incorporation with the Plymouth setilement. Indeed the correspon dence of Sir Riclird Vines, governor of the colony under Sir Perdinandq Gorges, with the Governor of Plymouth, leates }no doubt upon this head, and it is a well known fact that the two settlements of De la Tour at the mom! s of the Penobscot and Kennebec rivers, even at dd.; early age, were far from being 1 1 contemptible, both in a commercial and numeric point of view.- A ded to these wag -the handful of Jesuits at Mont Desert, and we might say a colony of Sweeties on the l Fen cost, between the two large rivers just named, the memory of which is tradition al, al, and the vestig es of which are sometimes turned up by the plough sh are . These people probably fell beneath some oils reek of savage vengeance, which left- no name or record of their existence. Subsequently to these was the dispersion of the Acadians, that ter-ible and wanton piece apolitical policy which resulted in the extinction and dena tionalizing of a simple and pions,people. The foga tive Acadians found their way through a wilderness of forests, sufferidg and dying as they went, some landing in distant states, (five hundred having been consigned to Governor pglethorpe of Georgia,) and others lonely and bereft, (mind a home with the humble and laborious farmers of thii hardy state, whose finest quality is an open-handed hospitality. These intermarrying with our people here, have left traces of their bloat] and fine moral qualities to en hance the excelle4ce• of a pure and healthful popu lation. Then followed the times of the Revolution, when Maine did her park nobly in thethe great and peril ous work. Our o n Kriox i lwas commandant of the artillery, and the bosom .friend Of Washington: our youth sunk into unknown grave in the sacred cause of freedom; and our people . , p or as they were, for the resources of tie state were then undeveloped. cast their mite of Wealth into tie national treasury. Northerly and isolated us she _is, her cities were burned,fand her frontiers jealously watched by an alert and cruel enemy. Here; too, Arnold sowed his last seeds of virtue and patriotism, in his ordions march through the wilderness of Maine to the capi tal of the Conada6, an exploit ,Which, considering the season, the pbverty of nunibers and resouces, . combine with the wild, nnknown, and uncleared state of tie country may compete with the heroic actions o any great leader of any people. , A marapme - state, Maine suffers severely from th e fluctations of commerce, but is'. the first to, realize reactions:of prpsperity. Her extended seaboard, her vast forests, her, immense mineral resources, to gether, with a popiffation hardy, laborious, virtuous, and enterprising.; a population less adulterated by foreign admixture than any state in the Union, all point to a coming day of power and 'prosperity which shall place per formost in the ranks of the states, i point wealth, ad'she is already in that of intelligence. r We have enumerated . but a tithe of tiniintellect ual resources o Maine—have given but a blew sheet as it were of the material which will hereafte make her renowned in story, and confine oureelve_ WO OW A XI ;13 CAUO, Or DUO ICIAAN. BY JESSE E. DOW MORE OF SACO, gcnb at Maine. • ZAIII:TII OAKF.9 SNIITIT '• .Nlfg4B s ,4 1 • EM t a single poin' onneeted-with 'of . historic and romantic Inter the earlier records of the coon tided to the first governor, Sir ht worthy and chavilric gentle gent of Sir PerdinandoVorges, and other fine spirits of the day. i t the Pool, as it it now called, ' from the fact that the winter ed by Vines and his followers a residence of eighteen or twen the the interests of 'the eOIO4Y, in, theitransfer of the Alaineplan milt proprietors, together with fiery •misfortune, induced Sir ire to the Island of Barbadoes, prosperous and respected, and colony for which he had done We have all' rd Vinep, a ri the friend and alter Raleigh, esidtnce was inter Harbor, 08EZ/172 a place. After l i ars, devoted to ath of his patro l to the Plytno l lie and pecu rd Vines to re we find him' dome! Rich! wher, , still I I and 8 Pr indful of the tiered so mudi. 'or to his depnrt'ure and probably not altogether 1 nected with it, he had incurred the deadly ha i r John Bonytol, a young man of the colony, In after years was cejled, and is still remember tradition as the "Sagamore of Saco." The of this hatred was in some way connected he disappearance of Bridget Vines, the daugh theßonyton governor, for Whom John onyton had lied a wiltrand passionate attachtnent. Years I L our story she had been suddenly - rnissing, to rmanent grief nd die' may of the' family, and re terrible - ag ny of John Bonyton, who had ved the Idea that Bridget had been sent to a Etu t convent, to save her from his presence. This e would never abandon, notwithstanding the solemn denials of Sir Richard, and the most illy and sympathizing asseverations of, Mis hies.. The youth listened with compressed s large, remarkable eye fixed with stern and ' ing, scrutiny urn the face of the speaker, and he was dune t e reply was always the same, knows if this btt true; but, true or false, my ball be against every man till she be found. lordingly we find the youth, who seems to have t .assessed of th se rare and strong points of ter which go o make the hero, in constant inn with the people - of the times. Moody and eful, he becrout an allien to his fathers house, ith gun and doh passed, months in the wilder gions of that , vild country. With the say . slept in his w gwam, he threaded the forest mood upon the verge of the cataract; or pene up to the stormy regions of the White Moun and anon, hushed the tumultuous beating of n accordance With the stroke of his paddle; nd his compati ons glided over their loveliest !s, Winnepisog: or "the smile's of the Great !Inca tred who ed in cause w it h ter ° Cote befor the p the m come re seemed no rest for the unhappy mon. Hu endure the tormalities and intermedlings, so strongly mark the period, he spent most of le on the fronties of the Settlement, admitting e companions-lila, and yielding less of courte- Vhen he, first a peered in the colony, the wo •garded his fine erson, his smile, at once sor and tender, en hi 4 free, noble bearing with tion, not umni gled with terror; while men, n that age of m nly physique looked upon his tithe yet firm airon, atheletic and yet grace d] eyes of env ous delight. Truth to soy, ~ lonyton had ne •er impar,ecl a-- fine develope y any useful employment, or nny elaborate lts nt book-knov i dedge. Ile knew all that was al fur the tirnes, or the mode of life which, he !lowed, and furher he cared ot. His great enr,s.lottprl to. n nnecinneken v.* transip s:11, hp all who came % ithin his sphe e found them bent to his pur °se. Pilgrim's even unflinching an ncompro ' as they were, felt the spell of his presence, re content to tpurn; to persecute, and set a ultic His ti of lit By. rnwfn admir even i frame ful, ti John went attr m °sent i had a nf,WP which I. T . h frll6lll port the head o a man whom theY'could not I. Yet for all t lie John Bonyton died quietly bed, no one dar ng loth) to him even what the told justify. ' e slept in perfect security t for w this, and ku w, too, that tfie woods were .ith ardent and evoted adherents, who 1.1.041 ehiged the soil with blood had bt•t a hair of • dbeen injured. The Saga more of Saco was nary man;' on the men of these times, re le as they wer felt this; and hence is it that ) this day his m mory is held in remembrance I n almost supersu l ituous awe, and people point. - arrow where lie s the ashes of the "Sagamore," l ow the boundatlies of his land, and tell mar -1 tales of his hardihood and self-possession. I tell. of a lime when a price been set upon 1 i• , • I how, when he people were assembled in le church for worship, John Bonyton walked u a g un in hand and stood through the whole ~ erect and ster as a man of iron, and !Mope carcely look upon him, much less lift a tin ainst him; and I ow he waited till all-had gone ven the oracle of God, pale and trembling, en departed in Silence as he came. Surely I van greatness in this—the greatness of a Na , needing but a field for its excercise. . . ci APTER It. • Methinight, within a desert cave, Cold, dark, and eatemn as the grave, 1 bud tenly awoke. , It seemed ofsable night the cell, Where, save alien from the ceiling fell An oozing drop, heisilent spell No sound) had ever broke.—A LISTON. , tug the great rirrs of ;Wine the Penobscot l•nnebeck stand re-eminent, on the account •rmaritine imperance, their depth and adap -1,, to the purposes of internal navigation; but , ire others less e3sential to the wealth of the I l y, which, encumbered with fulls and rapids, alike ship and st:eauner, but are invaluable for -at purposes of nianufact u re. The Androcog one of these, a 'liver,' winding, capricious and eantiful; just the one to touch the fancy of the Ind tempt the cupidity of a millwright. It s with scenery of the most lovely and roman unst, and falls already in bondage to loom and Lewistown Pulls, or Pe-jip-scot, as the 4 inals, called this beautiful place, are perhaps, I the finest wato • plunges in the country. It 'merely the beauty of the river itself, a broad ngthened sheet r f liquid in the heart of a fine' ,y, but the whole region is wild and romantic. olden bends of tie river present headlands of dulness, beneath Evhich the river spreads itself, placid bay, tilleady to gather up-its skirts ( 1 and thread itsel daintily amid the hills. The 1 present slopes at d savannas warm and shel in which neale way fi nely cultivated-farms, m whence ark . those rural sounds , of flock rd so grateful t the spirit, and that primitive f horn,w hiding itself into a thousand echoes, MEM he kn. nlive have his he no orb With out a %Timis Th h hel the lit in Wit bervle diareJ ger n. forth, And tti third poleo oni K of the tohilit there spurn the g Owls moit poet, aboun tic int eliiittl DIM IMM into a terel, and I and Ii blurt the si eroui nal of the in-gak r ed with fir, over ds of. feet, cast the stream; and 'dial] may le seell elie , of the wood l ig sites of his pc) verge of this v p its council sm and the uncontef in the time of oU amed majesty; ug and plunging and the great . ering of a household. Cliffs mug the Waters; hills, rising heir dense shadows quite e ven now the "slim canoe"of poised below; while some s looks upwards to the ancient )ople, and recalls the day when ery fall, o populous village Ate day and night, telling of pted power of his tribe.' • ir story, the region stood' in ho whirling mass of waters • in the midst of an unbroken oar 4f- the cataract booming hunir' cross the It stern 1 h the solitude 11 deep. Men In hose mysterious ke the unceasing voice of the w stand_ with awe and gaze falls, vital with tradition, tor- upon ribly be tr hind and t eautiful, and pg e? Can it he di, lhat sheet of fon ell known, and I • story must,est ye--‘a tact well country, more t himself sufficie feet of water an es mid-day; an falls, cast a not [eind gloom of , by a Ire !Wine 'torches stuck itt Oti I this el of ill: found the s of th the ei lieve more ain and - again ask, "Cad they t beneath those waters, be, is a room, spacieusand vast, egnented by •the Indian."- biish the ,fact in • regard, to known in the earlier. records an one white Man - having fitly athletic to plunge behind gain the room.' the sun, penetrating the sheet uncheerful light into the cave bleb were 'Still' further re- I g in the centre, and one Or the fissured of the rocke'.--! 1 - thisßefore fire stood a Women of Coriy or fifty years of age, gazing intently,tiPon _the white liquid, and tumultuous, covering to the door' of her home,, and yet the expression of het eye showed that her thought were far beyond the place in, which 'she stood. She was taller than the wont of Indian women, more slender than is customary with them at her perind_of life; and altogether, presented a keenness and springiness of fibre that retnainded one of Arab more than aboriginal blond. Her brow was high, retreating, and narrow, with arched and contracted brows, eath which fairly. burned a pair of intense restleSs- yes. At one side, stretched upon skins,:appeared what might have been mistaken for a white veil, except that a draft of air caused a portion of it to rise and fall; showing it to boa mass of hump hair. 'Yet so motionless was the figure, so still a tiny mocca soned foot, just perceptible, and the•hue and abun dance of the covering, that all suggested an image of death. At length the tall woman ,turned sharply round and addressed the object upon the mat . "Ilow much longer will you sleep, Skoke? Get up, I tell thee." , At this "ungracious speech-4er koke, means snake—the figure started slightly but id not obey. After some silence she spoke again, " a•in (white soul) get up and oat, our people will soon be here. Still no motion nor reply. At lengti the woman, in a sharper accent, tesutned.. "Bridget Vince, 1 bid thee arise!" and she laugh ed in an under tone. The figure slowly raised itself up and looked upon the speaker. • '"Aseashe, j will answer only to my own name." "As you like," retorted the other. "Skoke is as good a name as Aseashe." A truism which the other did not seem' disposed to question—the one meaning a snake, the other a spider; or "net-wea- MS Contrary to what might have been expected from the color of the hair, the figure from the mat seemed La mere child in aspect, and yet the eye, the mouth, ' and the grasp_o( her hand, indicated not only ma turity of Y(inrs, but the presence of deep and intense passions; Her size was thatof a girl of thirteen years in our northern climate, vet the fine bust, the distinct and slender waist, and the firm pressure of the arched foot, revealed maturity as well as individ ualism of character. - I • Rising from her recumbent posture, she approach ed the water at the entrace of the cave till the spray mingled with her long, white lock•', and the light falling upon her brow, revealed a - sharp,' beautiful outline of face scarcely (ducked by yearS, white even teeth, and eyes, of blue, yet, so deeply and sadly_ kindling into intensity, that they grew iriomentarily darker, and darker, as'you gazed upon them. "Water, still water, fdrever water,•" iiihe,tritirtmir ed. Suddenly turning round, she darted away into the recesses of the cave, leaping and flying, as it were, with her long hair fosse(' to and fro about her person. Presbntly she emerged, followed by a pet panther, which leaped and bounded in concert with his mistress. Seizing a bow, she sent the arrow away into the black roof of the cavern, waited for its return, and then discharged it again and again, watching its progress with eager and inpatient de light.- This done, she cast herself again upon the skins, spread her long hair over her form, and lay motionless as marble. Ascashe again called, ."Why do yon not come um* - cutg ellswittal" Having no answer, she called out, "\Va-an, come and eat;" and then tired at' this useless teasing, she arose, and shaking the white girl by the arm, cried, "Bridget Vines, 1 bid you eat." "I will. Ascashe," snswered the other, taking corn and dried fish, which the other:presented. "The spider caught a bad snake when she wove a net for Bridget Vines," muttered the tall woman.:— The other covered her face with her hands, and the veins of her forehead swelled above her fingers; yet when she uncovered her eyes they . were red, not with tears, but the effort to suppress their flow. "It i s a long, long lime, that 1 have been here, As cashe," answered Bridget, sorrowfully. "Have you never been out since Samoret left you here?" asked the net-weaver: and she fixed hereyes searchingly upon the face of the girl, who never quailed nor changed color beneath her gaze, but re plied in the same tone, "How should little Hope escape—where should she go!" Hope being the name by Which Mistress Vines had called her child in moments of tenderness, ns suggestng a mother's yearning hope that she would nt some time be less capricious!, for Bridget had always been a wnyward, incoherent, and alum ive creature, and treated with great gentleness by the family. _ "Do yo 4 remember what I once told your' con tinued thel other. "You had a friend—you have an enelnY."! This titre Bridget Vines 'started, and gave utter ance to al lon g , low, plantive cry, as if her soul wailed, as if itllited from its frail tenement, for she fell hack is dead upon the skins. ___, The wdman muttered, "The white boy and girl shouldn't have scorned the red woman, and she Melt her t the verge of the water and Waited tier re covery; w ten she opened her eyes, she continued, "Ascashel is content=--she has been very, very wretched, but so has been tim. enemy. Look, my hair is bl#1; Wienin's id like the white frost." "1 kinetN it would he so," answered thu other, gently, "b it it is nothing. Tell tne where you have been, Aseeshe, and how came you here? 0-ya-ah died the other day." She alluded_ to an old squaw, who had quit her keeper in the cave: At this liniment a shadow darkened the room, an other, andianother, and three stalwart savages stood before the two women. - Hach, as he passed, patted the head a Bridget, who shook them of with moody impittienc . They . g thered about the coals in the centre. talk ! ing in under tones, while the woman prepared sonic venison which was to furnish forth the repast. CHAPTER ill. Ltd Ate who elltaLeil the storm swept steep, • i Site who the foaming wave would date, - 1 zi!lo oft love's vigil hereto keep, Stranger, albeit thou thitik'st I dote: know, I know she watches thine —llorru•x. That ni ht the men sat lung around the fi re, and talked of a deadly feud and a deadly prospect of re venge. Ascashe listened and counseled. and her suggestimis were often hailed with imitations of ap proval—fik the woman possessed of keen and pen etrating Mind, heightened be passio tis at once poW, erful and Malevolent. Had the group observed the. white occupant of the skins, they would have seen a pair of dark, bright eyes peering through -those snowy to and red lips parted, in the eagerness of the inte,tt ear. . ( "How If r distant are they pawl"; asked the wo man. i . "A thre hours walk down atreaM," was the an.; ewer. " o-morrow they will ascend the falls to surprise t people, and burn the vill ge. To-night, when the noon is Mimi, we are tlight a fire at still-water above the falls, and the errentines will join us at he signal, leave their ca oes in the care of the wo an, and decend upon our oes. The tire will warn uc people how near to approach the falls, i; for the ni ht will bo dark:' This was told at in tervals, and to the quesitionings of the woman. "Wher i l c !s the Sagamore of Saco," ask Ascashe. . "John nyton heads our foes, but to-night is the last one.tSagamore." : .nt At this a e the. white bait stirie l i then a lot wail escaped from benetit `43 One of the teen, with As the girl,svtto seemed to assess: but the panther r, 1. '.ut • its claws , and thew started, a the face unconscio stretched is long, red tongue, and' • a howl, that the 'wpma at have been•the same. showing so 'nearly sounds in y the group disposed the :on should set. when they Proem till the m trail. 'Previous to (hi be upoel =I d violently, and h.. The group :castle, scanned steep in perfect , Ileditself over, back- his head, %tiered' a yawn •declared the • selves to sleep List once more many were the . charges enjoined upon the woman i n regard to Bridget. "Guard her well," said the leader of - the band.—• In n few suns more she will be a greet medicine woman, foretelling things that shall come to the tribes]" We must now visit thd encampment of John Ben yten, where he and his followers slept, waiting till the first dawn of day shoidd send them on their dead ly path. The moon hadset; the night was intense ly dark, for clouds flitted over the sky, now and then disburdering themselveti with gusts of wind, which swayed the old woods to and fro, while big drops of rain fell antid the leaves and were hushed. Suddenly a white figure stood over the sleeping chief, so slight, so unearthly in its shroud of wet, white hair, that one might well be pardoned a super, stitious tremor. She wrung her hands and wept bitterly as she gazed—then she !meltdown and look ed more closely ; then, with a ()Weir . sty, she flung herself into his bosom. "Oh, John Ilonyton, did I not tell you this t Did not. tell you,years ago, that little Hope stood in my path, wi th hair white as snow r' the man raked himself up, he gathered the slight figure in his arms—he -uncovered a torch and held it to her face. "Oh, my God ! my God !" he cried—and his strength departed,.. and he was helpless as a'child. The years of agony, the lapse of thirty years were concentrated in that fearful moment. - Bridget, too, lay motionless and silent, clin g ing to his neck.-.. Long, long was the hour of su ffering to the two.—. What was life to them ! stricken and changed, liv ing and breathing, they only felt that they lived and breathed by the pangs that betrayed the beating pulse. Oh, life ! life ! thou art a fearful boon, and thy love not the least fearful of thy gifts. At length Bridget raised herself up,,and would have left hisarm? but John Bonyton held her fast. " Ntiy, Hope, ntver again. lily tender, my beau tiful bird, it has fared ill with thee,' and smoothing her white locks, the tears gushed to the eyes of the strong man. Indeed, he, in his full strength and manhood, she, diminutive and bleached by solitude and grief, contrasted so powerfully in his mind, that a paternal tenderness grew upon him, and he kissed her brow reverently, saying, "How have I searched for thee,' my birdie, my chill ; I have been haunted by the furies, and goad ed well-nigh to murder—but thou art here—yet not thou. Oh, Hope ! Hope !" The girl listened, inte and breitthieSs. 6 , 1 knew it would bo ec John Bonyton ; I knew if parted, we could never be the same the same cloud returns not to the sky ; the same blos som blooms not 'twide ; human faces never wear twice the same II : and,',! fllai alas ! the heart of to-dayi•t not that) f td-morrow r' , bliyr on, lloperyears are annihilated, and we are children again, hoping, loving children." But the girl only•buried her face in ,his bosom, weeping and sobbing. At this moment a red glare of light shot up into the sky, and Bridget sprung tip her feet. • . "Iliad forgotten. Come, John Bonyton, came and see the only work that poor little Hope could do to save thee ,'' and she darted forward with the eager step which John Bonyton 'so well remember ed. As they approached the falls, the light of the be - rning tree, kindled by - the hands of Bridget below the falls, fl ickered and glared upon the waters ;'the winds had - died away, the stars beamed, forth, and nothing tninglod with the roar of waters, save an occasional screech of some nocturnal creature prowling ter its Prey. Ever and ever poured on the untiring flood, till one wondered it did not pour itself out ; and the heart grew oppiessed atithe vast image4i crowding into it, swelling and pressing ae did the tumultuous waves over their impediment of granite—water, still water, till the nerves ached from v'eariness at .the perpetual flow, and the mind iquestioned if the sound itself were not silence, so lonely Was the spell—questioned if it were stopped, if the heart would not cease to beat, and - life become annihi late. -0, Suddenly the girl stopped with hand pointing to the f;1114. A black mass gleamed amid the foam- - - one wild, fearful yell arose, even above the roar of waters, and then the waves flowed on before. • " Tell me, what is this r' cried John Bonyttini tied= zing the hand of Bridget, and - keying herillight with a strong grasp. "Acashe did not know I could plU'nge under the fall s=she did not know the strength of little Elope, when she heard the name of JohMilonyton."' She then went on to tell how she had escaped the cave—how site had kindled a signal fire below the falls, in advance of that to be kindled above—and how she had dared, alone, the terrors oil the forest, and -thc black night, that she might once more look upon the face of her lover. - When she had finish ed, she threw her arms tenderly aroundl'his decd she pressed her lips to•his, and then, with h gentle.a, ness unwonted to her nature, would have disengaged - herself from his arms. - Why do you leave me, Hope—where will you (To?" nsaiii the &guipure. ::Sim i looked lip with a face so pale, so hopeless, so mournfully tender, as was most Directing to behold. "I will go under the falls, and there 'Fleep—oh ! so - long will I sleep, John Bonyton Ho folded her like a little child to his bosom.— "You must not leave me, Hope—do you nut love me r She answered only by a low wail, that was more affecting than any words; and when the Stigamore pressed her again to his heart, she answered, calling him John Bonyton, as she used to callifitn lathe days of ' her childhood. 6 , Little Hope is a terror to herself, John Ilonytnn. Her heart is all love—all lost in yours ; but she is a child, a child just as she was years ago ; but you, you are not the same—More- beautiful—greater; poor little_ Hope grows fearful before ' you ;" and again her voice was lost in tears• The sun now began - to tinge the sky with his rud dy htie.; the birds filled the woods with en outgush of melody ; the rainbow, as ever, spann e d the abyss of waters, while below, drifting in eddies, were fragments of canoes, and still more ghastly frog nients, telling of the night's destruction. The stratagem of the girl had been entirely, successful —deluded by the,false beacon, the unhappy say - ages had drifted on' with the tide, unconscious of danger, till the one terrible pang of danger, andthe terrible plunge of death came at one . and the Upon a headland overlooking the ,group of the cavern, stirred with fee words give no utterance, and which in\ some deadly act. Acashe desce along the bank, watching intently th the o p posite shore, in the midst of the whkte, abundant locks of' Bridget at a great distance, She now stood b nmore, saying. ,' Forget,poor little Hope, John Bo' remember that her life was one long, of Thee." \ 66 sh e started—gave one wild 100 grief at the Sag - more—and then dao bank, marking hepath With stream! disappeared under the falls. The aim had done its work. \ "Acashe is reveng6d, John Bonytl rt " cried a loud voice—and a dozen arrws stopped i in its utter ance. Fierce was the Porsuit, and esperate the flight of the few surviving foes. Th ii Sagamore of Saco" never rested day or night tII he and his n \ oilowers had cut off the last •eattge o the Tera tines, and avenged the bloodof 11; unhappy maiden. Then for years did he linger a ut the fells, in the vain hope of seeing once more bet. ild, spectral beauty—but sho appeared no morAkn h e flesh ; tho' tothis, men not romantic or vise:nutty, declare they have seen lature, slight andbeautifliclad in robe t % ci,,,\ of skin, with moccasoned feet, and lon WlTite,hair, nearly reaching to the ground, hovering orrowfully around the falls; and this strange figur .-they be. Nye to be the wraith'of the lust Bridget MO. • NUMBER 10. r ame moment. ails, stood the ,ings to which .d expression, ed stealthily group upon, • hicb floatea ines, visible liide the Sat yton, or only long thought of love and ed down tho of blood. and f the savage