. v BY G. SANDERSON $ E. CORN-MAN.] VOLUME 26,1*0 46. Terms .of Publication, The American Volunteer' Is published every Thursday morning, in the white frame building, (rear of the court house,) at Two Doliara per annum, payable half yearly in adv.ancc, or two dollars and fifty cents if not paid within the year. - Ne subscription taken foi*-a less term than six months, and no discontinuance permitted until all arrearages are paid. to notify a discontinuance at the expiration of a term, will be considered a new engagement. s Advertisements will be thankfully received, and published at the rate of gIOO per square tor three insertions, and 25 cts. for each subse quent insertion. Those not specifically ordered will bo inserted till forbid. . Ifondbills.>Jßlanka , Cards, neatly executed at short notice, and at moderate prices. AGENTS pan THE VOLTINTEEB. The following Gentlemen' will please- act as a ents for this paper i nn-ne/ paid to either oftheseindividualswillbe acknowledged by ns. v ' John Moobe, Esq. Ncwville; / Joseph M. Means, Esq. Hopewell township, John WuNnEUi.icn, Esq. Shippensburg. David Clever, Esq. Lee’s [*! Hoads. John Mehaffy, Dickinson township. Abraham Hamilton, ogestown. George'F. Cain, Esq. Mcchanirsburg. Frederick Wonderlicii, - do. J ameVEi.liott, Esq. Springfield. Daniel Krysiier, Esq. Cliurchtown. , Jacob Longnkxker, E.Pennsboro’ township. George Ernest, Cedar Spring, Allen tp- For the American Volunteer. An iSnigma. It is formed like the globe, and ’tis.placcd in its ‘ ’centre; It’commemls every tongue—every mouth it wi-Il enter; It is always in fashion —the first to be odd? It departs hot from home? yet it wanders abroad It grows in each kingdom, and in every soil; It is fond, too, of labor—rthe partner of, toil ;• It appears in all seasons—belongs to all nations; It has many .connections and Worthy relations} It presides o'er the ocean—reigns likewise on ... shore; It leads every object—it enriches our store; It attends all our actions—directs every omen, It turns one Into ten—hates men and loves woman; ■'lt is seen in the morning—gets brighter in noon; It is hid in the sun, though it shines in the moon; It is shown in the rainbow, likewise in the showf It will follow our foot-steps wherever we go? It is shunned in the palace—beloved in the cot; It is found in our bosoms, wbat’er be our lot; It rules in accounts, when wc balance our coffers; It begets every order, ■whatever be our offers; It is sure to be foremost on every occasion; It Joins any court—proud to malic an oration; It is part of'our reason and also our hope; It does honor to God—’tis a prop to the Pope; It will pass through each and half every door; Jt despises the rich, but is kind to the poor; It aids all our knowledge, our' mofhlity, too; It lends double service for lovers, to- woo. It is taught with our lessons in all we receive; - It is mixed with our doctrines injdl we believe; It us to make joy—it abides in the foe; It dwells in the regions above and below; If is present in Wo, and is absent in mirth; It was ne’er owned in heaven, hell, nnr in earth.;} It leagues with the coward as well as the bold; It combines with the hero, the.young and the old; It embraces all points, yet it stands in the wrong. It is courteous to those who are robust and strong; It clings to the doctor, the parson, the patron; It favors the bachelor, wjdow and matron; It is kept from the father—bestowed on the mother; It disowns every sister, and courts every brother; It forms a companion in forming a quorum; It is heard in each council, in college and forum; It prevails in the flood; and it roams thru’ the wood; . . It was ne’er caught in evjj, blit always in good; It spars with ambition, joins pupils in school; It boasteth of wisdom—though the heart pf a fool; It was partial to Solomon—monarch of song; It is melody sweet to the musical throng; It is marked as the soul,.or the essence of glory; It will.mingle its voice and be lieard in each story;— ------ ------ It is known through the land as the third of our sorrow; j ; It may. sleep in the night, but it wakes in the morrow; It-was ne’er found in silver, but always in gold; It has merits go various they ne’er can be told; It will sjand'oy the pilot that weathers the storm; • It is useful in commerce in many a form; ' It is shut from our notice ten.months in a year! It is only in two it presumes togappear; It delights nrtuch in books, though it will not read It disowns the lawyer lor it will not plead; It belongs not to the wise, ’tis half of a fool; It is not a carpenter, but half of a tool; It clothes us with raiment-supplies us with food; It is hoped this Enigma'is well understood; It.is in the congregation—not the pulpit; It’s no backslider,—but part of a hypocrite; It is in the sermon—also the exhortation; It is not in happiness—but admonition; It will assist to go out,-but not to come in; It is partial to goodness, but not'to sin; It is hot in the heat but nlways in the cold; Its name islittle; though it is hard to be toldi It is shut from bur notice six .days out of seven; It is always with one, but nev’r with eleven; It was never known to smile, but often to frown; ■ It-desires not to be up, • but always to be down; It disowns; hatred and malicc,but cleaves, to love; •" '• ‘ ''■ - It is in.the mountain’s top—also the flat grove; It is in the town and in cvery neighborhood; It glories in.a room—also th’ surrounding wood; imirh v\ mi vni n. It is serviceable in the forming of books; It is never with the wise, though always in their , looks; It is always in the rose, but not the lilly; It wanders about borne, but not with the silly; Its name will be told, tbo’ by little billy. A. J. K. Carlisle, May the If'th 1839. FIGURES WON’T LIE We haVc already called the attention of our numerous readers to the fact that the affairs of the present Administration were more economically administered, than that of John Quincy Adams.. The Federal Whigs persisting in their unfounded charges of ex travagant expenditure, we are induced to copy the following.from the Norwich Aurora. Old Dominion, Public Expenditures. —We are told by the federal press, that the expenditures of the Administration of Gen. Jackson and Mr. Van Buren were much greater than those of the administration ofMr. Adams. Thirteen mil lions a year is said to be the extent of the public expenditures during Mr. Adams’ ad ministration, and thirty nine millions during that of Mr. Van Buren. • In order to present the fairest aspect for both parlies, we oiler the following comparisons and arguments: Ist. In the first place the appropriations for 1839 amount, in round numbers, to the sum of $38,000,000. Of thi», the item of $10,000,000 must ho deducted, which was appropriated for the contingency of employ ing 50,000 volunteers for .the Maine service. That will not be needed; so wc may reduce the siim from 38 to 28 millions. 2il. The Post Oflipc, during Mr, Adams’ administration, was'a separate It collected and paid out its own money; but the law has since been altered, nm) /m appropriation is now annually made for its support, though not one dollar of the appro priation is ever paid by the Treasury. The Sum appropriated this year, for this branclj of the public service, is $5,000,000, . This sum deducted from $28,000,000, reduces the ordinary expenditures to, $23,000,000. 3d.- But we nave another deduction to make—the sum of $1,850,000 for the Flori da war, over and, above the expenses of tile regular army;—a measure for which the ad ministration is not responsible. This de duction-reduces the ordinary expenses to =521,150,000.—8ut there'is more yet. 4th. The policy of removing the Indians. West of the Mississippi was specially ap proved of by Mr. Adams, but its execution was not attempted until after the close of his. term ‘of service. As the, expense of the measure is not chargeable to the profligacy or extravagance of flic "Administration, and is no part of the ordinary expenditures of (he Government, the appropriations may with great propriety be deducted. The. amount is $1,065,000, which lessens the=BB millions down to - sth, Then comes an appropriation of $2,- .500,000 for pensions, which is probably five times as much as was paid during the ad ministration of Mr. Adams; and ns (his is not,for the support of the Government, and the Administration is not responsible-fdr it, it must be deducted, as a matter of course, from the 38 millions. The amount of the expenditures for the support of the Govern ment is thus’reduced to 816,885,000. 6th. Then comes three extraordinary ap propriations for the protection of the North ern and Western frontiers and' for a military road, incident to our presept relations with the British and Indians, which reduces the 38 millions down to $16,255,000 7th. The survey of the coast, which is no part of the expense of supporting the Gov ernment,, requires an appropriation of $90.- 000, which, deducted from the gross sum, reduces the 38 millions down to $16,165,- 000. , Bth. The public buildings make necessary the follbwing appropriations:—for the Treas ury building, 100,000; for the post office bpilding,, $150,000; the new patent office, $50,000; for a jail in Washington,! $30,000; for the Custom House in New York, $l5O, 000; for the Custom' House in Boston, $75,- 000. These are all proper items for deduc tion and reduce the the 38 millions down to. $15,610,000. This sum we doubt hot, might be reduced still lower; but we are wiiUng.to please the Federal press by-allow ing-that it takes $15,610,000 a.year to sup port the Government under Mr. Van Buren’s administration. Now if thirteen millions’ was nothing but an economical expenditure 12 or 14'years ago, it is most manifest, con sidering the altered condition'of the country, that 15,610,000 is less in proportion to the wants of the people than 13 millions then was, and consequently that Mr.VanJiuren’s administration is more economical than was that of Mr. Adams. _ Garlic.—ln one of our exchange papers we find described the following simple pro cess for separating garlic from wheat: ’ To Farmers. —Possibly it may not be generally known, that many.of the farmers, in the Eastern States separate their grain from the garlic by a simple process. It is nothing more than constructing a boxin the form of a hopper, at an elevation of about 4 or 5 feet from the barn floor, into which the grain .is emptied, when it again passes out through an aperture at the bottom of not more than ah inch or two in.diameter; and falling upon the floor,~the greater gravity of the grain precipitates it, leaving the garlic, floating upon the^surface,,,which is removed by a boy with a coarse brush without any difficulty. If the grain is not rendered per fectly clean by this process it is nearly bo. “not bound to swear in the words of any master.”— Horace. CARLISLE, Pa. THURSDAY, MAY 30, 1839. THE SABBATH WRECKS. . A LEGEND OF DUNBAR, . It was a beautiful Sabbath . morning in the autumn of 1577 ;'a few'small clouds, tinged with red, sailed slowly through the blue heavens; the sun shone brightly, as if conscious of the glory and goodness of its Maker, diffusing around a holy stillness and tranquility, characteristic of the day .of rest; the majestic Frith flashed back the sun-beams, while, on its bosom slowly gli ded the winged granaries of.commerce; there, too, lay its islands, glorying in their strength—the May, shrouded in light, ap peared as a leviathan sunning in its rays— ami the giant Bass, covered with sea fowl, rose as a proud mountain of alabaster in the midst of the waters. ------ A thousand boats lay along, (lie shores of the Dunbar. It was the herring season; and icre were many boats from the south, and from the north, and also from the coast of Holland. Now, tidings were brought to the fisher men, that an immense shoal was upon the coast; and, regardless of its being Sabbath morning, they began to prepare (heir thous-. and boats, and to go out to set their nets. The Rev. Andrew Simpson, a man possess ed,, of. the piety and boldness, of an apostle, was then minister of Dunbar; and, as he went forth to the kirk to preach to his peo ple, he beheld the unhallowed preparations of the fishermen on the beach; and he turn ed and went amongst them, and reproved them sternly for their great wickedness.— But the men were obdurate, the prospect of great,gain was before them, and'they mock: ed the Words of the preacher. Yea, some o( them said unto him in the words of the chil 'dren to the prophet—“ Go up, thou bajd -I)esdSHr-'-He went froni boat to boat, coup selling, entreating, expostulating with them, and praying for them. “Surely,’ 1 said he, “ the Lord of the Sab bath will not hold ye guiltless for this pro fanation of hiS holy day.” But, at that pe riod, vital-religion ivas but littlcfelt or un derstood upon the holders, and they regar ded not his words. He went to one boat, which was the pro perty of members of his own congregation, and there he found Agnes Crawford-, the daughter of one of his elders, hanging upon the neck of her husband,' and their three children also clung around him, and they en treated him not to be guilty of breaking the Sabbath for the sake ot perishing gain. But he regarded not their voice; and he kissed Ids Wife and his children, while ho -laughed at their idle fears. ...Mr. Simpson beheld the. scene with emotion, and approaching the group—“ John' Crawford,” he exclaimed, addressing tlie husband, “you may profess to mock, to laugh to scorn the words of a feeble woman, but see that (hey return not like a consuming fire into your own bosom when hope has departed. Is not the Lord of the Sabbath the Creator of the sea as well as of (he diy land? Know ye not that' ye are now braving the wrath of Him before whom thc-mighty ocean is a drop, and all space but a span? Will ye, then, glory in insulting His ordinances, and delight in pro faning the day of holiness? Will ye draw down everlasting darkness on the Sabbath of your soul? When ye were but a youth ye have listened to the words of John Knox— the great apostle of our country; ye have trembled beneath their power, and the con viction that they carried with them; and when ye think of those fconvictions, and contrast them with your conduct this day, does not the word apostate burn in your heart? John, Crawford, some of your blood, have embraced the stake for. the sake of truth, and will ye profane the Sabbath which they sanctified? The Scotsman who openly glories in such a sin, forfeits his claim to the name of one, and publishes to the world that he has no part or communion with the land that gave him birth. John Crawford, hearken unto my voice, to the .voice of your -wife, and that of your bairns, (whose bring ing up is a credit to their mother,) and be not guilty of this gross sin.” ‘But the fish erman, while he-regarded mot the supplica tions of his wife, became sullen at the words of the preacher, and springing into thejmat, seized an oar, and, with his comrades began to-pull from the shore. -The thousand boats put to sea,, and Mr. Simpson returned sorrowful from the beach to the kirk, while Agnes Crawford and-her children followed him. . That day he took for his text, “Remember the Sabbath day tb keep it holyand, as ho fearlessly and fer vidly denounced the crime of Sabbath break ing, and alluded to the impious proceedings of the day, his hearers .trembled, but poor Agnesjiyept aloud, and her children clung aroundjier, and they wept also, because she wept. But, ere the service had concluded, the heavens began to louver. Darkness fell over the congregation—and first came the murmur of the storm, which suddenly burst into the wild howl of the tempest. They gazed upon each othcr in silent terror, like guilty spirits stricken ifl their first rebellion by the;, searching glance of Omniscience. The loud voice of the~psalm wasabruptly hushed, and its echo mingled with the dreads iful music of the elements, bleating of a tender lamb,.in the wind that sweepetn howling ton the mountains. For. a- moment,- ■ their. features; convulsed and immovable, i were still distended with the song of praise; 1 but every tongue was silent, every eye fixed, ■ There -was no voice, save heaven’s. The 1 church seemed to rock to -its foundations, but none fled—none moved. Pale, poxver- I less, as marble statues, horror transfixed- i them in the house of prayer. The -steeple J rockedriu the blast, and, as it bent, a knell. untold by human hands, pealed on the cars of the breathless multitude. A crash fol lowed. The spire that glittered in the morn ing sun lay-scattered in fragments, and the full voice of the whirlwind roared through? the aisles. The 'trees crouched and were stripped leafless; and the sturdy oak, whose roots had embraced the earth for centuries, torn from the deep darkness of its founda tions, was lifted on the wings of the tempest. Darkness was spread over the earth. Light nings gathered together their terrors, and clothed in the fury of their fearlul majesty, flashed through the air. The fierce hail was poured down as clouds of ice. At the aw ful voice of the deep thunder the whirlwind quailed, and the rage of the tempest seemed spent. , Nothing was now heard save the rage of the troubled sea, which, lashed into foam by the angry storm, still hello,Wed forth its white billows to the clouds, and shouted its defiance loud as the war-cry of embattled worlds.—The congregation still sat mute, hprrified, death-like, as if waiting for the 'preacher to break the spell of the elements. He rose to return,thanks for their preserve 1 tion, and he had given out the lines— " When ill thy wrath rebuke me not, . Nor in thy hot .rage chasten me,’/V when the screams and howling of wfimen and children rushing wildly alongthe streets rendered his voice inaudible. The congre gation rose, and hurrying one upon another, they rushed from the church. The exhorta- tions of the preacher to depart calmly were uidieafd and unheeded. Kvefy scat was de serted, all rushed to the shore, , and' Agnes Crawford and her children)-also, in terror, with the multitude. The wrecks of nearly l two hundred boats were drifted among the'rocks. The dead were strewed along the bench, and amongst them, wailing widows sought theif husbands, children their fathers, mothers their sons, and all their kindred ; and ever and anon, an additional stream of grief arose, as the lifeless-body of one-or-other- such- relations was’found, A few of the lifeless bodies of the hardy crews were seen tossing to. and fro, but the cry for help was hushed, and the yell of death was heard no more. 11 It was, in truth, a fearful day—a day of lamentation, of warning, and of judgment. In one hour,-'and within sight of the beach, a hum]red and ninety boats and-their crews, were whelmetTln. the mighty deep; and, dwelling on the shore between ,Spittal and North Berwick, two hundred widows wept their husbands lost. -Tbo - upoc-tatous wor.v l.unlcl carrying Hie dead, ns they were driven on shore, beyond the-reach of tide-mark. They had continu- cd their melancholy task for near an hour, when a voice exclaimed—“ See! see!—one still lives, and struggles to make the shore.” All rushed to the spot from whence the voice proceeded, and a young man was per ceived, with more than'; mortal strength, yet laboring in the whirling waves. His coun tenance was black with despair. His heart panted with suffocating pangs. His limbs buffetted the billows in the strong agony-of death, and he strained with desperate eager ness, towards the projecting point of a black rock. ■ It was now within his grasp, but in its 'stead, he clutched the deceitful wave diat laughed 'at fits deliverance. He was whirled around it, dashed on it with violence, and again swept back by the relentless surge. He threw- out his arms at random, and his deep groans and panting breath were heard through the sea’s -hoarse voice. He again readied the rock—he grasped, he clung to its tangled sides. A murmur moaned thro’ the multitude. They gazed upon one an other. His,glazed eyes frowned darkly up on them. Supplication and'seorn were min gled in his look. His lips moved, but his tongue uttered no sourid. Ho only gasp ed to speak—-to implore assistance. His strength gave way, the waters rushed aroupd the rock as' a whirlpool. He was again up lifted upon the white bosom of the foam and tossed within a few yards of the wailing but unavailing crowd. ■“ It is John Crawford !” exclaimed those who were enabled to recognise his features. A loud shriek followed the mention of his name—a female rushed through the crowd, and the next moment the delicate form of Agnes Crawford, was seen floating on the wild sea. In an instant a hundred plunged to her-rescue, but, before the scream of hor ror and surprise; raised By"'the-spectators when they beheld her devoted but desperate purpose, Bad subsided, she was beyond the | reach qf all who feared death. -Although no feminine amusement, Agnes had delighted in buffeting the waters from a child, as tho’ she felt a home upon theirlbosbm; and now the' strength of inspiration -seemed to thrill through her frame. She. again appeared, and her fair jiand grasped the 1 shoulder of the drowning manl ' A shout-of wild joy rang back to the deserted town. Her fath er, who was amongst the multitude,' up on his knees. He clasped his hands togeth er —" Merciful heaven !” he exclaimed, “ Thou who slilleth the tempest, and liold est the-waters in the. hollow.'of. Thy. hand,, protect—protect my child!” The .waters rioted with re-doubled fury. Her strength seemed/failing,. but_a smiJejif. hope still lighted up her features, and her hand yet grasped her apparently lifeless bur-' den. Despair again brooded on the counte-' nance of her friends.- For a moment she disappeared among the waves;.,but the next, Agnes Crawford lay senseless,on the beach, I her arm resting on the Bosom of'him she had snatched from a watery grave—on-the bo som of her husband,. . They were borne - ip , their own house, where in a few moments she recovered ; but her husband manifested no signs of vitality. All the means within their power, fahd that .they knew, were resorted to effect his re suscitation. Long and anxiously she wept over him, rubbing his temples and his bpsom, and, at length, beneath her hand his breast first began to heave with the returning pul sation of his heart. “He lives!—he breathes!” she exclaimed, and she sank back in a stale of unconsci ousness, and was tarried from the room. Tlie preacher attended by the bedside, where the unconscious fisherman lay, directing and assisting in the operations necessary for re storing animation. V As John Crawford began to recover, the film of death that had gathered over his eyes began to melt away, and he gazed around in bewilderment, but unconscious of where he was, and he sunk in a troubled sleep; and, as he slept, and his strength returned, he cast forth his arms, in imagination y*et grap pling with death. , He dreamed, and in his dream, lie shouted for help. He prayed, and in the same breath lie blasphemed and revil ed the trembling, spectators that his troubled fancy still pictured on the beach. > - In a few hours the fisherman awoke from his troubled sleep, which many expected would have been the sleep of death. Hh raised himself in the bed, he locked around wistfully. Agnes, who had recovered, and returned to the room fell upon his bosom.— “My Agnes !—my poor Agnes !’’ he cried, gazing wistfully in her face—"but where— where am I ?—and my" bairnies,'where are they ?” “Hen;,.father, here!’’ cried the'children! stretching out their little arms to embrace him. Again-he looked anxiously around. A re collection of the past, and a consciousness of the present, fell upon his mind. “Thank God!” he exclaimed, and'burst into fears f and when his troubled soul and his agitated bosom had found in them" relief, he inquired | .eagerly—“ But O; tell me, how was Isaved? —was I cast .upon the beach? There is a confused remembrance in my brain, as though an angel grasped me \vhcri I was’ sinking, and held me. But tny head is con fused, it is fearfully confused, and I remem ber nacthing but,as a dream; save the burst ing awa’ o’ thc.drcad.ful storm, \vi ’ the per ishing o’ hundreds'in an instant, and the aw ful cry that rung frae boat to boat—“a judg ment has come owre us.!’ And it was a judgment indeed ! O Agnes ! had I listen ed to yer words, to the prayers o’ my bits o’ bairns, or tho mlvico o’ the minister. I wad hae escaped the sin that I hae this day coni-’ mitted, and the horrors wi’ which it has been visited. But tell me how, or in what man ner, I was saved.” “John,” said the aged elder, the father of Agnes, “ye was saved by the merciful and sustaining power o’that Providence which ye this morning set at nought. But I re joice to find that your heart is not hardened, and that the awful visitation—the judgment, as ye hae wcel described it, which has this day filled our coast With widows and with orphans, has not fallen upon you in vain; for ye: acknowledge your guilt, and are grateful for your deliverance. Your being saved is nacthing short o’a miracle. We a’ beheld hoiv.lang and how desperately ye struggled wi’-the raging waves; we knew not who ye were, and when it was na in the power o’ any being upon the shore to render ye the slightest assistance. We saw ho\v ye strug gled, to reach the black rock, and how ye was swept round it; and, when ye at lust reached it, we observed how ye clung to it wi’ the grasp o’ death, until your strength gave way, and the waves dashed you from it. Then ye was driven towards the beach, and'some of the spectators recognised your face, and they cried out your , name. A scream burst upon my ear, a woman rushed through the crowd- I —and then John !—O, then !”—but here the feelings, of the old man overpowered him. He sobbed aloud, and- pausing for a few moments, added— “ Tell him, some o’ye.” “O fcll 'me,” said the fisherman; “a’ that my father-in law has said, I kenned before. But-how was I saved? or by whom?” " _ The preacher took up the talc. "Heark en unto me, John Crawford,” said he. “Ye have reason this day to sorrow, and to re joice, and,to be grateful beyond measure. In the morning ye mocked my counsel and set at nought Iny reproof. True,.it was not the speaker, but’the words of trutll that were spoken, that ye ought to have regarded; for they were not my words, and I was but the humble instrument to convey them to! ye, But yc.despised them; and'as ye sowed, so' have ye reaped!,' But as your father-in-law lias told ye, when your face was recognised from the shore, and your -name mentioned, a woman screamed —she rushed through, the multitude, she plunged into the boiling sea, and in an instant she was beyond the reach of help!” , “Speak! —speak on!” cried the fisherman eagerly { and he placed his hands on-his heaving bosom, and gazed anxiously, now towards the preacher,' and again towards Agnes, who wept upon his slranldehr —; “ The Providence that hadytilf then sus- Aained yoUj while your fellow-cfeatures per ished. around you,” added the clergyman, supported her. She reached yon„she gras pedlyour arm. ’ After long struggling, she brought you within a fewyardkof tlie shore, ■ a wave-overwhelmed you both . and cast .you upon-the beach, with her arm, the arm of your wife, that saved you,nponyour bosopi!” - “Gracious heaven!” exclaimed the fish erman, pressing his wife to his bosom- —“My ; ain Agnes! was it you !■—was it you!—my [AT TWO DOLLARS. PER ANNUM. NEW SERIES—VOX.. 3, KO 60. wife!—mjr Saviour!” And he wept aloud, and his children weptalso. .‘‘There is-nac merit in what I have doin',” replied she. "lor wha should have attempted to save ye, had I hot! Ye were every thing to me John-, and to your bairns.” But the feelings of the wife and the mo ther were too strong for words. I will not dwell upon the joy and gratitude of the fa mily, to whom the husband and the father had been restored as from the dead. - It found a sorrowful Contrast in the voice of lamentation and of mourning, which echoed along the const like the. peal of ah alarm bell. The dead were laid in heaps upon the beach, and, on the' following day, wid ows, orphans, parents, and brothers, came from all the fishing towns along the coast, to seek their dead amongst the drotvned that had been gathered together; cm, if they found them not, they wandered along thp shore to seek for them where the sea might haVe cast them forth.—Such is the tale of the Sab bath \\ recks-—of the lost brave of Duubar> ' From the Baltimore American* PERU AND CHILI. By (he arrival of the ship Natchez, Cap tain Hayes, at New York from Valparaiso, the NeW York Commercial lias receiver! official confirmation of the great battle be-, tween (he Chilians and the army of the Pro tector, Santa Cruz, in which the latter Was completely routed. The.spoils of the' vic tors were 3,400 prisoners, all the Protector’s artillery, horses, &c. and 8900,000 in mon ey. Generals Moran and Urdininca were killed, and five othcr_ generals were made prisoners. ( Santa Cruz escaped with only twenty men. ■The Chilian-General, Lafucntc*-cxpectcd' to reach Lima on the 28th of January. The castle of Callao, still remained in poS session of thc forccs of Santa Cruz, who had there a garrispn 0L1,500 men." Naval Fngagcmcnt.- —The Journal di Commerce slates .that about the time of the above battle, a'sea fight took place at,CJosmh ; which likewise resulted auspiciously for the Chilian arms. The vessels arrted by Gen eral Santa Cruz, four in mmihtr, attacked the squadrqn oPCommandant Simpson, com posed of the corvettes Confederation ami Valparaiso, and bark Santa Cniz, and were' completely routed, with mu cl!i damage, ami the loss of the brig Arcquipcno, having, a crew of" 0 men. The enemy’s vessels worn the Edmond of 20 guns, a bark of 18, the Areqtiipeno of 9, and the schooner Peru, with two swivels. [The engagement is said to have lasted two hours, at pistol shot dis tance.] ' . , ’ Correspondence of the. E r , York Journal of • Commerce. VAi,PAiiAiso, March's, 1839. Wc have just'received advices from Lima of the total defeat of the army of Sanfh. Cm?, at Yungay on the 20tli > of January. Santa. Cruz escaped only with a few men, and ar rived at Lima on tire 24th. He has garri soned the Castle of Callao,with 1,300 men. under the command.of General Moran, ami supplied them with three months’ provision. He again left Lima on the 28th for the south, with the purpose of reorganizing a new ar my, We think, however, in this he will fail, as his resources are completely exhaust ed. We consider the Confederation at an end. The probability is, there will be are volution in Bolivia. •ORIGINAL -EXTRACT. * * was night; the wind was mourn!nTTy around an isolated dwelling, within which ’were seated two lone beings. ' A solitary lamp was flickering upon the table, and the dy ing embers barely reflected their brightness upon the hearth. Silence reigned supreme and un disturbed, except by a clacking nf some Icseticd plank, as it listlessly swung in the breeze, when tile old man suddenly rose, and witli a solemn and stately pace moved across the room, when turning to his companion, with a scrio'us air said:— “SallV let’s go to bed !” To the heirs and legal representatives of CHRISTMIf COOVER, late of Dick inson-totvnshi]), Cumberland county, de ceased. . - • * Take. IVo May 2], 1839. S ' 3t; . To the heirs and legal representatives of JOSEPH SHATP, late of the township of Dickinson, C'umberlanct covpty, dee’d,- Take Notice^ That I Aviil-hold an lnqtiisition on h writ of Par tition anti Valuation, on the premises.lute of Jo seph Shaw, dcc’d. on Wednesday.the 12th day of Jane 1839, at 10 o’clock, A. M. where till in terested may attend. ■ JOHN MYERS, SUcrinr. Sheriff's Office Carlisle,? May 21,1839. ; 5 Tl> BAD THIS!— Dr. Swaync’s Cohtfto:tr,d . WmSuni/i ofPrunus V'irginiatia'orU'tld Cher >y.—This fa decidedly one of the best retriedies for coughs and colds now.in use—it allays irri tatiorimf the lungs, lr-osens4hc cough, causing i_ the phlegm to raise free hhd casyi in asthma-, • pulmonary consumption, resent ani chronic ■ coughs,wheeaing and choking of'phicgm, hoarse 4 ' ness, difficulty of breathing, croup, spitting, of blood, See. The syrup is warranted intellect a permanent cute, if taken according to directions 'which accompany the bottles. For side at the drugstore of- - ‘1.3. Mvkns & Co.‘ •-* ■ POWDER ■ . . By the Keg, See.; received and for sale at the store of .--fcl.’. ,j ■ JOHN GUAY; Agent, Carlisle, April 4, 1839, : «!•« ■ % 'S '3t.-'