DLITE 19. ‘,
cicicct Vactim anb
I From the Literary Messenger
er it II 11* 4 LLOIR S.
ITOMaIIE FRENCH OF DERANOLR
Captive on the Moorish coast,
Thus the fettered warrior sighs;
Birds that shun the realm of frost,
Once again ye greet my eyes. -
Swallows, that in hope's gay dance,
Seek afar this burning straud,
Sure ye leave my nati'Ve France;
Tell me of that much lov'd land.
I fur three long years implore, --
Sweet memorials of that home,
Where my craaled life,of yore -
Pream'd of happy days to come,-
'When - beneath the lilacs green 1,
Babbling waters tell their We,
You my childhood's cot have seer 9
Tell inc of thatiovely vale.
One beneath that roof was born
Which o'er my young childhood smiled;
Oft you've heard my mother- mourn
O'er her lov'd and long-lost child,
Dying. sho in fancy hears
Footsteps which of old she knew;
Then afresh she pours her tears;— •
TeU mo of her love so true.
1; my sister wedded yet?
. Have you seen our villago . throng
At her happy bridal met,
Mingling festal danco and song?
And those friends who braved of old,
By my side the hostile spear,
no they all their homes helioldl— •
Tell no of those friends so dear.
Ali, the stranger's foot abhored
Treads perchance their dust above;
'Neath my roof he rules a. lord;
Rudely claims my sister's love.
Me no mother's prayers await;
Chains henceforth are mine below;
Swallows, speak my country's fate;
Tell me, tell me of her woe.
TIIE LIFE EPISODE'
Tristan walked along in the soft sunny light of a'
.r..! evening—a time most joyous in the country
vs and fields, but in London bringing only sad-
He passed through the dull, close West-end
:pts—where the !meted air'was never stirred by
:0 fresh evening breeze, and not a shade of thei
Inoue sunset was visible .ave one faint golden
ykleon a church tower near. Tristan sax neith
'gloom nor light. His eyes were blinired—his
'ltt was pressed down—with misery.
lle found himself crissing the green sward to
ircht the serpentine river. It glittered an the min
;V, like a beacon; and his eyes were opened now.
e saw it; he would have rushed towards it with the
Aof a hunted deer flying to a distant shelter—
she dared not. It seemed as if every passer-by
ed out to him; "Mon, whether guest thou?"
The answer to that question belonged not to time,
t to eternity.
Tristan felt as if every eye were,directed to him
(this mute inquiry—which, look where he would,
tcould nut escape. There was "not a lad who went
['witting past, nor a milliner-girl, tripping lightly
nth her burden,tha s t did not seem in this inarfsdis
,n!ereil fanci - to be an accusing spirit, knowing his
Opole and taunting him with it. To elude this,
le swat a long way round—and reached the bridge
.d when the sun had set. lie tried to lounge upon
:as he saw other people do, watching the cockney-
Valtonians who pursued their harmless amusements
a the twilight. Ilis eyes rested on each tiny float;
sJ his wandering Otoughts followed the line down,
Ali, to the deep ) l bed of the river. What was
;eel
lle could not answer that hardly tried. All
he felt was, that it must be a place of stillness
od coldness and silence: he sought nothing more.
sen the blbeness which the still bright sky cast
4as painful; he. wanted it dark—all dark.
le eould not enter the portals of that home while a
ray of light rested on them—while one worldly sound
kroke above them. There was yet near him a mur
mar of boyish talk and laughter,'and a robin'sa rig
:1 ono ofth!e distant trees. lie would waitwait
call night, and the stars — should - be the only wit
noses of t 4 great change.
Tristan sat down underneath the parapet of the
:Age a man passed by, and looked at liiin,seeming
wonder what he was doing there. So lie took
:,t of his pocket a biscuit and 'pretended to eat.—
nen a woman crossed, leading a sickly•child—who
rued wistfully at the food. Tristan gave his mor
sel to the famished boy.
"Now the world owes me no more than it would
h.oheetow—a crust of bread!" thought he; and lie
Et a savage pride in the reflection.
Colder and daricer came on the night—and Tristan
waited still. A dreaminess, a torpor seemed to
crimp his energies, making them unequal even to
thit last effort of all. A mist was Over his eyes;
let he still saw through its gathering folds the dark
rising ghostly trees—the stars overhead and the
ellp rippling waves below.
Ac, uncertain still, he seamed to lean over the
;utpet, he felt it give way. A shudder—an tin
csticious and vain effort to spring bock—and the
raters had drawn him in. The terrible refuge which
he sought had of itself opened its doors to receive
him—and there was no retreat.
- - -
As in dreamr, We sometimes feel ourselves plung
ug deeper and deeper into an abyss which we know
to be fatlionilw s i, and yet experience no terror, no
Trisi'.n sank. fie seemed to feel the cool
trli waters above him,around him, folding him in an
ezbtrice which he knew was thatof deathand yet
tlta parting of soul and body brought no agony. lie
thought it would have been a terrible pang—but it
fPlt only like the loosening of a burden—the pulling
lof a robe. lie -would not believe in the reality
cf the immortal change.
'Tristan felt himself rising up--up to the surface
'1 the river. A faint idea-tatinted him that it was
'iatys so with the drowning; whom the wave taunt
casts forth once or twice—giving a chance of
fa before it mellows them in forever. He might
47e one more sight of the real world, before enter
''g into the land of shadows, on whose verge he
'toed. lie could not reconcile himself the truth
4 had already passed through the eternal gate—for
had yet powers of thought and sense. lie heard
t.`.e murmur of the little waves, and saw the stars
shining through the waters.
'lie reached the surface—resolved to make one
'truggle and raise himself from that dark abyss.—
But there was no need. As easily as a winged
thought, Tristan felt- himself disengaged from the
inter s and floating above them with the, lightness
° l. bird. Then fi l e knew that the mysterious change
had indeed passed over him—that he was no longer
a living man, but a spirit.
And there, wafted powerlessly to and fro by the
eddies of the river, with a motion that awfully stim
ulated life, lay the thing that had been Tristan!....
The soul Shuddered as it looked upon the dead form
—it knew then what was the guilt of murder. Aye,
thhough this had been its own mortal dwelling-
Place which it had destroyed, or wished to destroy
—still it Was murder! How dared- I he to make stiff
uld lielplvss the hand which might stave gided a bu-
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A. C. KENDRICI
man brother—which had responded to many a friend
ly clasp? How dared he to darken With that tern-•
ble glazed stare the orbs into which, but three hours
ago, beloved and most loving eyes had looked, see
ing there a reflected image.—knowir,g well that as
that image dwelt in hiseyes aio it dwelt in bis heart,
and blest in that knowledge?—to cast among the
dark weeds the bright•hair where het fingers had a
right to - stray—the lips which hers had a right to
press? Oh!-it was a sin, a deadly sin: and he—the
spirit of the dead ' Tristan—felt it to be so, now.—
Parted from its mortality—from that chain which,'
by the might of the senses, had dragged it down
from all higher impulses—the soul khew wherein it
had erred. Yet somethig of the selfishness of its
earthly nature encumbered it still.
• "It was a bitter and heartless world to mel"
though! he—for the spirit of Tristan was Tristan '
still; "I .ever sought for good thei,ein and found
none. My friends tempted me with' kindness and
left me to starve; my very flesh and Iblood set their
faCee against me; I doubted Love itself---and had I
nOt cause? And now, whatsoul is there living that
thinks of the one thiS night thrust Inlo the land of
nothingness? Would I knew!"-
And with that desire came - the knowledge of all
the power that is possessed by a disembodied spirit.
The shadow floated on the wings of the night over
the sleeping city, and found itself at the entrance of
a house to which Tristan had crept not twelve hours
before—a blot of significant misery, on its stately
threshold--a butt for the underling's ill concealed
scorn. So deemed he them; and a e ‘ joicitig pride
thrilled through the spirit now, as, ,defying all hu
man power, all bars of pomp and ceremony, he pass
ed into the innermost chamber. Thi than he sought
sat there, with his wife at his side. I .
Tristan had never seen that face but when its lines
were made harsh by the pressure of' worldly cares.
He could not hardly believe_ it was the,same that
now wore a pleasant, kindly smile, o the/ the voice
which chatted about the lively don estie nothings
i•
was the very tone that sounded so c utious and se
vere. among the array of ledgers aneheck-books in
a dil
little dark office. Yet there they were, the' c
man of business and his fashionabl wife, looking
contented, homelike, afFectionate , t ( king together
after the day was done. Even amo g the dazzling
splendors of that luxurious abode sl?une the little
glowworm lamp of domestic love.
The lady was taking out her watch. "My dear,
I think we have had talk enough forgo-night. Only;
before we go to bed, I just want to know about that
poor young man who came as we wore going out,to
dinner; Tristan, was it Rot?"
"Yes; the wild scapekerace of a fe low—so proud,
there - is no doing anything for him. And yet I
would help him if L could, for his dealt father's sake."
‘r ,'Whist did he come for?" .
-"I c' old hardly make out; for hel stopped mein
the hall, and I told him tocome to mbrrow, for I Was
busy, (and you know. Emma, howl that matter I of
poor Williamson's hankkruptcy had;occupied 'me all
day.) But young Tristan spoke sell fiercely, almost
threateningly, that it vexed me; and I told him he
better not call again until he could treat with civil
ity the best friend he had." !
1 .
"Poor fellow! perhaps he was in want," said the la
dy, gently; "he looked wi and haggard, as he dart
ed past the carriage.". fir
"I never thought of that. Dear 6e! I wish now
that I had waited a minute of Se has a brother
pretty ,well off in the wort , who would keep him .
. 1
front poverty."
"But you will do so, Edward?" -
"Certainly, my lore. I intended to speak to Hill
and Venables next week about a vacancy they have
in their office. I will go there 0-morrow. , Poor
Tristan! his father was a good- man. I should be
sorry for any halm to come to the boy, though, he is
rather headstrong."
Self-convicted, Tristan lingered, hearkening to
the last echoes of that compassionate voice. • Then,
with a thrill of remorse that ran like an arrow of
conscience through his spiritual farne, he fled away.
Through the still moonlight that made_ long shad
ows in the streets the - spirit watitle ed, itself as im
palpable. It floated over . the sa e scenes with
Tristan's mortal feet had traverse ; but now no jar-.
ring sounds of worldly traffic brok ,he holy quiet.
A watchman's heavey footfall kes.unded along the
pavement. MINI he had gone bk, a, woman, with
a child, crawled to some door-st ps and crouched
down.
-- When the man came past nga
into the shadoW; but he tireceive
what she was doing there. The
so rough, as he used in the day-ti
"I have not been drinking— i
not," was the faint answer; "but
to-day s except a biscuit that a po
park gave my boy. We divided
"Poor soul!" said the watchma
pocket; "here is half a loaf and so
do without my breakfast for once
don't lie there any longer, good w,
be somellody else passing soon, anl
station-house."
"God reward you, sir!" said tit'
world is much better than people si
found it so. Eat, little Johnny, a
is not long till morning."
It is not loig till morning. Oh! what a deep les
son of endurance was in those words of the poor
desolate wanderer. And he—tle spirit who now
with his opened eyes and ears listened—had in life
time reviled the world; struggled in its darkness,
nor waited meekly for the dawn) that would surely
come at last. He who, though poor, had never
wanted a menl— : who, though wretched, had found
in his wretchedness-the blessed balm of love—who,
though friendless, had never been altogether deso
late—he had shrunk from his despalr like a coward
—while this lonely, forsaken one lived, patiently on,
enduring to the end.
Tristan's spirit yearned'repentently over the world
which he had in his bitterness condemned. It was
of God's creating—and the smile of divinity rested
on it. yet. With all its harshness, its coldness, its
sufferings, it nas still a blessed world.
On, on, over myriads of human spirits that the
bosom of the night-stilled city enfolded, (lid the soul
of Tristan pass—resting with none until he came to
a small, neat, suburban dwelling. When last he
crossed its threshold, it had been with wild anger in
his heart, and a curse on his lips. From that
threshold seemed yet to ring the parting words of
strife:
Brother Tristan, I have been careful and you a
spendthrift. Every man ought to think' of himself
first; you were too great a fool to do that . I shall
not help 'you any more. You may stop here one
night more; and then you must turn out and work in
the street—or starve there, if you like it better."
And the terrible answer had been: "No, bot I will
die, and bring Cain's curse upon your head."
Could it be that the very roses which now slept
their still and fragrant sleep under the moonlit porch
had ever been shaken . by the breath of such wotds as
these!
The spirit of Tristan stood in his brother's cham
ber—self-justifying even now. For the man slept
as peacefully as though' his mother's son had still
laid within a few yards of him in the little cloiet
from which he used to call, when, boy-like,' they
talked together half the summer night. 'He /had no
thought of that_ dark, weed-tangled mass, floating
beneath the stars.
iflut a little while, and the sleeper stirred. His
Writhing grew thick, and his forehead's veins were
knotted—while incoherent words came from his
lips.
"Tristan,you are a dolt; I always was master—
I always wil be; there, be a good lad; don't resist,
and I'll play with you again. • Ha! ha!"
And the almost boyish laughter showed how many
years that world-worn msn had retitversed in his
dream. Again he murmured, thougl' in a
• changed
tone:
Father, don't say I ill-used him, Tristan mus
imi
a
take care of himself. Well, well, weiare brothers,
as you say. Dear father, only live a little longer,
and I will treat him much better—l will indeed!
Now, father, be content; I piomise—l do promise!
Tristan, give me your hund—it freezes me. Ali!"
And the sleeping 'man leaped out of bed, and awoke
in terror.
" What a fool I have been," he muttered, - as he
vainly tried to reassure himself that he had merely
been dreaming. " But it is only because that stupid
Tristan put me in such a passion.- By-the-by, I
wonder if the lad has come in yet.' His temper must
be cooled by this thae. Hullo, Tristan," called he,
opening the room door.
There was no answer: so he went to see. A
strange fear oppressed that once cold-hearted .man
as he saw the empty chamber. The threat which he
had scorned as idle words rang in his ear, like a
warning from the grave. He trembled,. and sat
down on the bed.
"I hope the silly boy has done himself no harm.—
Yet he was blways passionate and desperate. I wish
I had not said what I did. God• forgive me, if any
evil comes to thatAmor lad!'"
lie drew aside tle window-curtain: the first streak
of dawn already mingled with the moonlight.
"The fellow must be drinking,' he tried to think.
" Yet I don't believe he had a shilling. Besides, ho
was always sober enough. • Poor Tristan! I wish ho
would come home."
The man lay down again—not in his own room,
but in his brother's. He thought he could .sooner
hear the street-door when ;here. He lay, listening
to every breath, until he could rest no longer.—
Each sigh of the morning breeze that arose and
shook the casement, seemed to cry out to him, like
the voice that haunted Cain, “o,maii, where is thy
brother?"'
When the daylight came, the•spirit of the drown
ed hovered over that man as he.hurried out with a
face as white as death. Those shadowy arms would
fain have encircled his neck, that air-voice would
have whispered, " Prot her, my brother! let us forgive
one another;" but it was ton !ale. Deaily had step
ped in between them, and shut the gate of reconcili
ation forever.
The winged soul threaded the gray shadows of
early dawn as swiftly as the yet unawakened sun
beams. The first stirrings of life had already dis-:
turbed the quiet of the great city, but in its gloom
iest recesses somewhat of the freshness and peace of I
night lingered still. It was in an upper chamber in
the darkest of those streets which desolate poverty
seems to haunt like a spectre, that the spirit of Tri
stan rested:
Its ,sole occupant was a young woman, You
could not call her a girl, fur the freshnes4—o girl
hood no longer tinted the thin, worn cheek; nor had
the outside show of tine-lady lam replaced the pure
womanliness of her face and mien. She had,thrown
herself on the bed, all dressed as she was, after what
seemed to have been a long vigil; for the faint glim
mer of the expiring candle yet struggled with the
encroaching light of morning.
"And she, too, can sleep—such a sound ? ! peace
ful, happy sleep!" sighed ,the spirit. "Even now,
there is in her heart no memory of Tristan!" '
It was not so: for on a little table lay a litter, to
write which she had set up half the night—a nighr
when every hour was so precious to one who had
toiled all day in the Weary life of a governesa.
"Why did you leave me in such anger?" ran this
mute record of vain tenderness. "Tristan, my
heart's joy, my only comfort in this world, how could
you say lo‘ed you not? Mus I tell•you over and
over again foriniV - 13kiny, many years, my Whole
s o ul w as filled with You, hnw thnt-frnm !Aril-mod to'
womanhood, I have lived but to make myself worthy
of you—lived through f change and hopelessness, and
worlds-sorrows,. still keeping my heart pure and
strong with the single thought that I might one day
be . your wife? And yet, when you tisk me to take
.that blessed name, because I dare not answer to the
cry of your despair, you say I never, loved you!—
What were your own words? "Maud, the world
and fate are against our union. Let us thwart them:
let us marry and then die." And when I' answered
to that wild daring of misery with words of patience,
you . took the decrial they implied as, springing not
from prudent love, but cold contempt. Tristan, you
said I scorned y.ni because you were poor! But I
will not think more of that bitterness, which was
wrung only from your despair. Listen to me, my
dearest? If we are so poor that, e must wait until
the time of gray hairs before-we can have one home
and one name, still I Will wait. I would rather wait
until old age, and live-and (lie your betrothed, than
wed the richest man in England. And you, Tris
tan, take courage! Life is never hopeless to those
who have youth and health and mind. I will watch
you rise, step by step, , in the world; my love shall
cheer you and give you strength. You cannot fail
—you. shall not fail. My own! my husband that
will be! you do not know how strong love is—how
much it can endure and be conquerorat last. Come
to me to-morrow, and let us forgive 01P3 another. I
know that I am dear to you; but Tristan, you are all
in all to the heart of Maud."
she crept back
her. and asked
one was hardly
deed, sir, I have
have had no food
gentlman in the
between us." '
searching in his
e cheese. I can
in, a wry.- Only
man; for there'll
it isn't far to the
An agony of despairing love, more terrible than
human heart could'feel or human 'tongue •describe,
appeared to convulse the airy frame of the spirit.—
Its term of wandei)ng over, it felt dragged down
down, through storms and lightning and darknes s
to the region of the dead. A cry of fearful anguish
burst from it, and the spell was broken. All had
been a dream! '
é .woman. "The
y-1 have always
id be patient. It
Tristan awoke and found himself lying under the
parapet of the bridge, in the misty light of dawn.
Humbled to the meekness of childhood, did that
pride-tempted man rain his tears in the dust, and
bless the sleep. with its strange dream-peopled mys
tery, which had saved his soul from the doom of a
suicide.
Trrstan went home. 'Under the rose-porch stood
his brother, who uttered an exclamation of joy, ran
forward. and stopped:
." Where have you been, young scapegrace?
was a fool to make myself. so uncomfortable about
roll."
But Tristan felt, and returned, the hand's warm
clasp, and saw there was a quivering in the thin lips.
Peace and forbearance heal4d all strife between the
brothers, now. Both had learned life's lesson in one
night.
In the evening light Nand's arms were round
Tristan's neck, and her tears were fulling on his bo
som.
But in his joy there was a solemnity—a quietude
—which showed that a change had come over him.
Many years after,' when he chanced to he walking
with his wife in the same spot, he told her of that
marvellous dream.
Maud, in her holy Woman's faith, doubled not one
word. But while, with a shudder that she could not
repress, she crept closer to her husband, her eyes
were uplifted, and her lips moved in a thankful pray
er.
•'Life is full of mysteries!" she murmured.
TUB DIFFRRENCK.—GeneraI Cass, on receiveing
the democratic nomination for the presidency, im
mediately Fe4gued his seat in the Senate.
General Taylor holds on to his place as an officer
of the regular army, in spite of his nomination at
Philadelphia! With the whigs, the motto, afeto
die and none resign," has a significant application.
This difference between the two candidates'in their
peculiar attachment to office cannot fail to be seen;
but General Taylor has this oneargement in support
of his firmly holding on to his present station: the
contingency' of his success would be but a poor
reward for the certain surrender 0f56,000 per an
num. Should he 'closet) his hold upon the public
treasury,
six thousand a year would be irretrieva
bly lost to him. Who, then, can blame him!
(T The Keystone says the only township in
Union county, which continues to reject the Com
mon School system is Beaver, the residence of Ner
bliddleawarth, Esq., the candidate of the all intelli
gence party for Canal Commissioner.
SATUR lAY MORNING, OCTOBER
WO N Vr A. ll D ~_k_l
The Wealthy
Our Button Maker fort Button Covererj
her trade whet, she was a mere child. Hi
was a tailor, a very poor man, whose famil
t ied of a wife and four da;ghters. The ivf
,plain, devoted, feithfulb ily, and sat all thi
•sewing by the side of-her husband. Then
taught to help their parents as soon as tt
old enough, and the one who is the subjecl
sketch, was shown how to cover the bune
mould with cloth or silk, rind soon became,
pert at the business. Albeit, every membe
fatuity was industrious, the tailor made
money, and continued poor. One day
dressed young man presented himself in
shop,
• "Is Mr. Carpenter itir asked the strar
"That's my name," said the tailor. 44 '
Mr. Carpenter, my emplOyer, Mr. Jones,
ker, desired me to call and inquire the nr
the ticket you bought la the Maryland
tat Lottery."
"Did you buy a totter:
wife, ion tone.of quiet re
"Fattier, have you bo
tim children.
The tailor pulled out
he took a little piece of
4 , The numbers are 5,9,
in; the clerk:
"That ticket is worth
thousand, four hundred a
two penis, and Mr. „Tone
for you," the clerk said,
ting the shop.
There was no more w
his family that day. t.f
tained lltc 1110110 for the
turned, the wife and dan
and looked with amazerti
hundred dollar City Itari
The tailor's first imp
good fortune by getting
wife quietly interposed
she remarked, "that inn
dom lastti long. There
make us happy for life.'
times that amount, wife
A new passion wassi
som. A tenth of the SI I
day before have made h
,the whole only whetted I
tailor sold his little stol
board for ever, and movi
Loom Island, near Jame:
bought twelve acres of
comfortable house. /11
tumult man, and with tl
he began to speculate.
Two years later bOan that reckless
over-trading and speculation which ter
almost general bankruptcy in 1837. Ow
1.
dettly found himself a Teat man. Tit
township in Maine, for which ho paid fo
dollars, he ‘ld for thin y-five thousand,
edtho cash. His twelife acres near Jan
found to he the centre of a space, which
ideally intended as the site of a greAt
sold out for, $30,000. lAn India rubber
which he established, failed in three yeai
lose to the stockholders) but it was astert
our tailor had not owned a share for m
year: He sold_ont in time with a clear
year:
eme,.... --in.s..- j r —.1.c...,....
inated, or was concerned in fell throng ,
the gainer by all. Filially, when the b'i
in 1837, and two-thirdof the business
were ruined, while the industry of the v
try was struck with paralysis—our tai
millionaire. When English sovereign
per cent. premium, and hills of exchang
tin, as man more, the papers announi
parturo for Europe, in4he packet ship
of Sumac' Carpenter, Esq., lady, four N
tern; and three servants. .
How lorig our tailor millionaire an:
remained abroad we c nnot say. But i
were the occupants of a magnificent hdi
versity Place. and moVed in the highei:
the ton.. The eldest Li ss Carpenter h
French count, with a rtugly name, andl
lathe. The second dung bier was the wit!
lawyer, of distinguished family at the
third married a wealthy merchant of ti
husband had been selected for the four l !
ine, but the young lady, unlike her si4
solved to make her oWn selection. .
was attached to any Particular persoh
not wish to he passed lover, as the "got
tels" of a man whose only recommend
aristocratic position. Her father wa,
the refusal of his youngestduugher to(
of his selection. But he gave her six!
tide. Those six months she passed ial
tiie country . But her resolution remaii
ed. The ex•tailor was in a terrible pas!
his daughter that thel gentleman whop
to call her wife, would wait nu longer.J
that lie was wise, since he would gat,
waiting. The daughter's firmness ii
her fathers wrath, and the interview
the most unpleasant manner. Oui .
knight of the shears,l told his daugh
114 use, und never see hint again.
There % .as no alternative, and our ydnug Miss
stink as rapidly as her father had risen'. Shetrick
i ly brushed up her knowledge of the art, which she
!acquired-in her childhood, and found little difficulty
in getting work He i r sisters declar that she has
disgraced the family, and refuse to ac nowledge her.
Poor Mrs. Carpenter', would like to put her arms
around the youngest I child and embrate her, but Mr.
Carpenter has exprepslk forbidden airy member of
his household to speak to, or of the biinished one.—
IHe lives in a palace, she in a garret. He is uneasy
with his own greatness; she is quite content that
/)
she. has none to bear. We think, hove er, that the
.x-tailor will relent and call her homel; n t that he is
disposed to forgive her, but she has recently ifot -to
writing verses for Morris &Altana' Journal, and
Willis - declares that he must tell the{ world who the
author of the sweet verses is. Now the old man
would he pleased with a dainty'notice of his daugh
ter's Bennis, from Willis, provided the wealth and
rank of her father were announced in the mane con
nection—but he is afraid it should come out, that
the young lady is his daughter and a Burroti MA—
itiEfle—Nrto York Despatch.
VitalNv.—The following appears in the New
boryport Herald of Sept. 2.5. A fellow by the name
of Joseph L. Gilnes, perpetrated an infamous offence
on Friday evening. Early in the evening, he called
at the residence of a young girl to whom his brother
was paying his-addresses, with a horse and chaise,
told her that his brother was in a dying condition,
and he had come in haste for her. On this pretext
he hurried her into the chaise, and driving very fast,
told her . that his brother was at Amesbury where he
left him with two or three doctors'in attendance.—
After passing Merrimack Bridge, he took her from
the chaise, on pretence that the hotte was just back
of the road, and on reaching a lonely spot sought
;.
by the most villainous threats.and outrages to vio
late her person. After he left he , she found her
way to a house in the vicinity, in a state of deleri
ous excitement, so that the people in the house were
obliged to confine, her to a room and' Watch her
closely during the night, and early in the morning,
after the excitement had partially subsided, brought
her home. The brother and father of the girl who
were present when Glines left w'th her, followed.
soon after to the residence of his br, dher and finding
out the imposition, were engaged a I night iii a fruit
less search for them. I •
Gli - 4 4 about -- ild, of ood appearance,
Mines is about 30 years ow,
and has ft wife and child at New 11 dford. The girl
is only 17.
14, 1848,
Button M
EIEM
El=
learned
or 601E4
consis
fe was a
¶ day long
girls were
Ley were
of this
or metal
very ex
r of the
ut little
flashily
the little
Yery well,
I the tiro
ijmbers of
jlonumen-
y ticket husband
;bake.
;" said the
ght a lottery tic
ete cried
greasy wallet, f
bin red and whit.
27," said the tail
Tom which
e paper.
7 address-
the discount
nd fifteen dollars
a will' be happy tl
owing 'politely, I
to
of, eleven
rind ninety
t,b cash it
land quit-
l otk done by th
I , ,reenter went ou'
‘ tailor or
and °h
ien he re
round him
iile of one
ticket, and wh
,giiters gathered
ent at the thick
P k 'notes.
vise was
t gloriou'ly drut
oce i
objection. " 1
l iey drawn in a 11
onoligh there,
ebrate his
But his
II am •tolci,"
ttery sel
msband, to
101 l be five
tailor.
in his to
would the
P o
P r
ore .; I The
'
'
d the shop
y over to
6,000, he
was ii plain
" Ana there sl
!" exclaimed the
; l uddenly born will
m he had drawn,
m supremely hr
,his appetite for n
lc in trade, quitte
•ed with his land
I, l cia, where. for i
land ' upon which
1
g was a shrew d, 1
tie -remaining tiv,
system of
mated in
r tailor sud
half of a
lir thousand
nd pocket
aica, were
'nature ea
city." lie
i•r company
a, an utter
wined 'that
re than a
profit of a
g
but he was
iubble bust,
community
;hole coun
lor was a
ns were 14
et on Lon.:
iced the de-
St. James,
pas Carpen-
his family
1844, they
Use in MA
t circles of
d married a
uglier mous
e of a young
'out)). The
l iis city. A
th, our hero
,iters, had re-.
T ot that she
but, she did
ds and chat
,ation w•as an
• enraged at
wed the man
tnotiths to de-
Iretirement iu
iced unehang
sion. Lie told
'ivas anxious
She replied
i nothing by
'creased with
terminated in
aristocratic
er to quit his
j' DRAININGTIIE r
ker.
Tag mamma of thq Eve Glades of Florida, a ,
riroject agitated in Con i crres by Senator IVe,:cott ofl
Flo, ida, and which ha 4 bee reported upon, is exci
ting genera) interest- and nit ration. The Ever Gla
des extend from the souther margin of Lake Otte-
Chobee some ninety m lea towards Cape. Sable, the
southern extremity ofl
the p ninsula of Florida, and
are in width from thirty to t fly miles. They lie in
a vast basin of lime ro k. "heir Waters are entire--
ly fresh, varying from one t six feet in depth.—
Their usualievel is more tI an twelve feet above
that of the waters of the str its of Florida and of
the Atlantic ocean, bui. of course not en great tame
the Gulfof Mexico. As th Ever Glades extend
southwardiy from LOT Oxe hobee, they gradnally ,
decline, and their watirs nu ve in the same course.
They have their origip in the copious rains which
fall in that latitude during the ant limn and fail.—
and in 'the overflow bf Lake Okiechebee through .
swamps between it aild the W i er Glades.
The proposed drain, will i. is estimated, recover
over a million acres of waster land, of the most rat
lurible kind, for the prolluctioh of many articles for
'which we are indebted to tit l e West Judie.; and for
eign countries,' as forlinstnn i ce, compty, yam, casa
va, ginger, polka, Sisal hetnp, indigo, tobacco, cor
tez cascarilla, canillal alba, sarsaparilla, sugar cane,
pepper, bush and vine peppr, pimento, tea-plum,
orange, suave, Otalmite plu m , shaddock, lime, hog
plum, forbiden fruit, lemon,Jamaica apple, grape
fruit, citron, sugar tipple, banana, pine apple, cocoa
nut, plantain, snpailifin, sour sop, Avacato pear,
mango, tname, olive,j tname- snpota, boxwood, lig
eumvitte, mahogany,ltiti, and ship timber.
The expense of thk draining will be from t4300,-
000 to $500,000, to e:ii!ct which, it is proposed to
grant certain public lands to the State of Florida,
the State in consideration to assume the work.—
The drain is to be elfeete..l by mating canals from
the great lake Okechnliee to the Gulf. With Lake
Okechobee are connected tla vast swamps and nu
merous streams whose swelling from rains, over
flows the country sought to hie reclaimed, and which
with little expense can he the re directly precipita
ted into the lake. and which only require an outlet
to the ocean and gulf; to free o‘er a million acres of
the richest soil.
The distance of the lake from the eastern coast is
less than forty miles in n direct line, cud does not
exceed fifteen miles to the navigable waters of the
Caloosa-Hatchee, and a similar distance on the west
side, will reach those of Loca Hatcher, the fall be
ing sufficient for the proposed cuts. Besides the
land reclaimed, equal to the whole State of Connec
ticut, it is proposed to make these canals cat able
for commercial purposes, thus shortening the dis
tance to the Gulf and avoiding the Florida reefs,
upon which in three years, 1 844, '45 and '46 prop
ert was wreck'ed or damage dto the amount of iiit3,-
066,800. 1
Furthermore, the reclamation of these lands will
immensely forward the set dement by increasing the
productiveness of the Stat , and extensive 'settle
ment is all that is required to render -Florida one of
thirichest states of the U lion, rich even as Cuba.
The project is a- great and feasible_ one, and if it
can be perfOrmed by the State upon-the terms pro
posed, Congress should no hesitate in sanctioning
the enterprise.—New Yo* Sun.
ffa
(nigh ig
thousand
A DEsioN Fon A PAIST .rt.—Whenever oe‘ hear
of that political desperado Core in—who ‘ivas burnt
in effigy at Buena Vista ft r Ids libels upon the %•,•ir
and its heroes, and who is the bitterest Abolitionist
in the Union—whenever we hear of him making
speeches in tavor of Tuytnr and Free Soil, we wish
to see him and his audience involuntarily- trahs,-
planted to the slave grdunds of Gederal Taylor at
Baton Rouge, where the %.•hole performances might
be,seen and heard by a Tayloi meeting, assembled
at the same moment. Imagine Corwin and' his
hearers to be unconscion of the changb of scene
and the additional within s; end then imagine the
titter err.sternation of Gen. Taylor mid his friends,
and filially their undisguised indignation, at the
bold and impudent uhuse of tie illui.tritms :Aboli
tionist. We can see the General losing his teini er
at the. audacity with which Corwin holds him nc.:
countable for free soil ilotrines, aid we can see the
faces of Bullit, Pryton, a d Prentiss, turn alternate- 1
ly red and White at the bi ter and binning cchminies
which he fl ings at. the outh. We Can see the
slave -holders breaking io al) sorts of demonstra
tions of rage, at his ap teals to the slaves to rise
against their masters; n'id we ran fix our eyes upon
the,abashed and humiliated !die!' of these very slave
holders, when Corwin d i .clares that Taylor will not
and dare not veto the , V ilmot_Pros iso. And yet,
this is just such a spec acle, as by the aid of the
enchanter's wand, mig it. be• held up before our
Northern friends almosti any day between now and
the 7th of November. 1 Pennsy/eanias:
IliMMiItE
Ctlmmend to the
satd, "She works for a living." , In her tie are al
ways sure to find the e ements of a true woman—a
real lady. True, we a e not repared to see a minc
ing step—n haughty 1 p—a fashionable thess—or
hear a string of splend d nonsense about the balls
and the young men—t 4 l e new nmels rind the next
parties—no—no—but %.e are prepared to hear sound
words of good sense—anguage becoming %venom ,
—and to see a neat dr ss, a mild brow, and-to wit
ness
movements (hat waid not disgrace an anel.
o.
Ye who are lotdring for wives and companions,
turn from the fasliiiitot ,le, lazy, naughty girls, and
select one from any of those who work fur a li% ing
—and never—our wort for it—will you repent your
choice. You want a substantial friend and not f a
doll; a help-mate and cnot a help eat; a counsellbr
and not a simpleton. i *on may not be able to carry
a friend into your lonise, but you can purchase a
spinning, wheel or a se of knitting needles. If you
cannot purchase any thhew novel: i you may be•able to
take*some valuableaper. - If you cannot buy a
ticket to the ball,- %6 - ii - - au visit some afflicted neigh
bor. Be careful then iwheti you look for com
panions and whom yot choose.. We know many a
•foolish man, who, instad of choosing the industri
ous and prurient won: n for a %vife, took one from
sbe fashionable walks Ind is now. Jamentimr his fol
ly in dust and ashes. Ile ran into the fire with his
eyes wide open, and who but himself is to blame?
- The time was when ladies who went a visiting,
took their work with them. This is the reason why
we have such exce:le it mothers. how singidar
would a gay woman oak in a fashionable circle,
darning her father's s ockittls, or carding wool to
spin? Would not her companions laugh at her?—
, And yet such a gay comae; wmild be a prize for
somebody. Blessed is the mad who - chooses his wife
from among the despis d girls •who work for a living.'
A MODSRN CANNIII
lounging there, do no
the other day. "Hot;
"Oh, no, he's a eannib
"4 Conn that T"‘
other people."
A DIALOGUE IVRI.I.
the printer live nu T'
you had'ut paid him fo
you have his - paper ei
out of the room—wh,
and wrong.
SOMETHING FOR WM
LOIt has RECENTI
THOUSAND DOL'
therefore cannot be n
.—Speech ofßaile 1),1
(rr binri are fre
strength and goodnf,“
kintil they have been
!M=l
FOR A LIVING
irl of whom it is sneeringly
r..—"Do you see that fellow
Bing!" sai,i Owens to Jenks.,
J oes he live! by his wits!"
es, a cannibal—he 4 ‘lires on
PPLIP.P.-"Fut her, what does
"Why, child?" "You said
r two or three years, and yet
ery week!" "Take the child
t does he know abouVright
o DoticitWACES.—GEN.TAY-
I' invefted ONE HUNDRED
JARS IN - NEGROES, aid
favor of the Wilmot Proviso.
pion, (wleig) in La.
( I
+i..n►ly like ten—their real
3 nre not properly drawn out
sl►ort time in hot venter.
NUMBE
2E2
C=NWM
No , pape bas assailed Gen. Cass
warmth than the RichMand IVhig. C
the Examiner have been turning over
t h e Whir", and have made a rich haul.
that in 1730 the Whig spoke in the hi
of Gen. Cass. The extracts will teak ,
heat commentary. The INThig of Decei'
quotes andendories the following.
Yon: Courier tuM Enquirer.—ltichnt
cr.
"Gen. (loss, (lion whom no purer
(we hope it is praise from us may not
riot's to him) is universally helovedfo
his private and public chm octet.. lli
representative of our government at P
almost universally approved; and as he
to be very little imbued with the part
day, moderate men of till polities bar
ward to thq possibility of his bece_Min
ful candidate of a new organization of
[From the Richmond Whig of Morel
We haVe received a pamphlet prin
hnd written by Gov. Cass,
ability the assumption by Great Britain
search American vessels—for the pu
pressing the slave trade. The pamp
signed to operate on the French Chn j
open the eyes of the Frehch people to
designs of Great Britain. Most ()p i a)
make its appearance, and most benelli
its results. Under the influence of ita
oning, and p . owerful defence of the fr
seas, the French Government have re
the treaty with England authorizing a
of vessels to suppress the -slave tra
Guizot, although in favor of the treat,
to confess that we were right in resist
It will be recollected that Lord Ab:i
correspondence with Mr. Stevenson
emphasis upon the fact-that France hi
the search, and that whatever that pc
alrous nation would consent to, could
ding to the United States. But the
out of his sail—France refuses to rati
No doubt seems to be entertained
with the flee powers was a plot on tl
land to operate upon us and by mean;
to convert her ad.nired superiority u.
into actual and absolute supremacy.
been balked in this design, we are
debted to Gov. Cass..
A \V HG, BUT NOT.AN ULT
At the Democratic meeting i
Hartford Times, on the erenin of t
It. Ingersoll, Esq., of New-Haven w
stand, and made a handsomb speec
closed, he said he would relate an an:
tire of Zachary Taylor's principles.
A traveler said Mr.!, after riding
came to a tavern. He stopped. and
lady in the bar-room to have his hor
fe.l with eight quarts of oats.
"I am sorry to inform you we hay
the old lady.
'.Thep give him Some Corn."
"We tile out of corn,"
"Well, my good lady, give 1
some ha.Y."
"Oli,isir, we have no meal or
g•Wiil you let. hiM stand in t
thinglinquired the disappoint ;
"Oh yes, bir as long as he pl
"Non 11 bring me a plate of et
fee, wi a hot roll."
"Ilutt rolls!—ho—ho—who
—.4teakt We aro out'em AL
"Then bring me cold victuals," co
eler.
"There is nothing of the kind in
in our house—Jon't keep 'etn.'
"I should like a Mass of brandy.'
"Aiut got any "o that."
“Well now, my, good lady," cont
ler, "you don't appear to keep putt;
"Yeci we do, indeed:"
"Wliat?"
ker- / ) tarern, sir."
• 1
Nov:, cohtioned Cllr. 1., th
"not an ultra la cern!"
T,u PFLF/;ST Si::T SAW OF Tut
Washington trition:,,ptililistms a lett,
vine, Alabama, gi% ing niimsing
gin of the 'Alabama correspondence
.11nren,, which the Van Buren Abol ,
even yet publit-liing as evidence oI
their iein in the South.
It appears that the two wags of
wrote the famous hoax upon John Jo
isnnian, (sending him a highly n rot
tremendous and enthusiastit Tyle
there, with the names of snow forty
fictitious character for those of th
erg, cotronitte men, &Le—) got up th
In thincase they took a Liberty s% it
signing them to the lett cr to which
replies so magniloquently. They
scoundrel now in the Alabama Sint
tiering" with a regress; another, wh
a "free sutler, goes for "free" poc k
trill ks, being just now in the So
indictment for larceny; and that of
off some time since, leaving the lad
to keep quite a ."free" and easy hi
shirts of Gainesville village. We
have lint space to devote to the rich
ter in the Union describing this saw
John Van Buren. and the manner i
of Alabama are splitting their sidi
of these two worthies to create fro
ion that parties in Alabama symp
treacherous purpose.—Xrte York !
Tnrt Bitxtrtrut, YOUNG MAIDEN"
LESS ( h MAIII).---The rut-lowing
Col. Black. of PentHylvania, to ills
tion of the "disappointed . ' who ha
selves to the-Van Buren party.
Col. Black said he once heard o
bachelor, who had speut the great(
in searching for a wife. Ile was
marry. tailless he should corne'ar
would be a model of perfection; an
tinl thing, in his estimation, forth
to por-sess, was a perfect set of t
the 4 .01 d coon" became acquainted
young, maiden,,who in all things r
up to his standard Jof excellence.
matchless mould, her cheeks were
Cirri as the . blooming flowers
her eyes were bright and sparklin
night, her breath was as sweet as
a bed of violets; and, in short, sh
he deemed of more value than all
'rent. lie wooed and won her he
The nuptial day was,at length d
the guests were invited, and all 1
cumstance" incident to such intere
duly heralded abroad. A few mo
%%ere to stand before ITymen's I
thought it advisable to let her in
there was a very small speck of
which might possibly cause it to
rible intalligence %vases unexpecr
inc to the old exquisite. lie sivr
ceived, betrayed, cheated. liumbn{
and would al enge hiniself by.con
fut deed. overflowing with exci .
nation, he raved and , wrung lo
length declared that he would eith
out, or--marry Sally Scroggin
maid in the village, without a too
This last alternative he performe,
v env, on account of the miisine
been so grossly deceived, -
EU
~" - 1
with more
or friends of
the file , ' of
They show
gchest terms
their own
ber 16, 180,
m the New
,rtcf Bsguir-
an brenlbeil
very inju
the purity or
• conduct as
rid,- has been
IA well known
pirit of 'ha
looked for
the success
parties."
15,1SUJ
ed in Paris,
! with great
n of a right to
Ipose of sup
'let wss de,
nbers and to
'the grasping'
lonely did it
!ial_b - ave been
/ cogent teas.
edom of the
used to ratify
mutual search
e, Even N.
, was forced
fig the search.
rdeen, in his
~) dwelt with
ad yielded to
.lid and -chic
no be degra
rvind is taken
int the treafy
part of Eng
' of the search
l ion the ocean
That she hns
eminently in-
A WHIG.
city, says the
Ile 13th,'Chass
s caned to the
Before he
icd
ate, illustra-
long diqance,
li'reeted the old
-e put out and
IT oats," sail
ittle , meal and
Mil
}lay
e ya
eJ
. tra!
leases.
ak a
.ut long ago."
d without any
eler.
1-i r
d-a cup of cof-
and hot coffee
Si
inued the tray-
our house, sir,
nud the trave
ttg here."
n tavern but
ME
SEA SON. -Th
r friim Gaines
mint of the ori
with John Van
ion papers are
the spread of
that town whi
les of the Mad
ght of a
meeting held
r fifty Bulw‘r's
officers, speak
s "saw" also.
but the names,
Master Johnny
were those 'of a
g Prison for tam
nbesides being
ets and
,"free"
Ater Jail under
/, fellow who tan
es of his family
use on the out
regret that we
nd quizzical let
on the Post and
%%hid' the wits
s over the effort
it the impres
,thize with their
'rue. Sue.
V.PD Tlll3 TOOTII
tory was told by
atrate the posi
e %%edded them-
a misernble old
r part of his life
11 rocs
not to
ross a lady who
i d the most essen
lady of his lore
eeth. At length
'with n beautiful
ppeared to come
Ifer form Was of
5 fresh and beau.
if the morning,
r as the stars of
he perfume from
possessed what
, a perfect set of
rt and affections.
terrnined 'upon—
e "pomp and cir
:rink events, were
eats before they
ily altar, the lady
i ended know that
I one of her teeth
ecar. The hor
t das it was alarm
re that he was de
ged, "sucked in,"
Imitting some aw..
tement and indig
us hands, and at
ier blow histrainl
g,the ugliest old
th in her hea,131 , ,;.
I, out oc pure re
io which he had