AMERICAN VOLUNTEER. J»ODUSnBD EVERY THURSDAY MORNING By Jolin B. Bratton. TERMS SijrfsoßiPTiON.—One Dollar and Fifty Cents, tiald'in advance; paid wUhln the year; and Two Dollars, and Fifty Conte, If not Maid within the yean Those terms will ho rigid ly adhered to in every instance. No subscription ulsoontinued until all arrearages are paid unless &t the option of the Editor. Advertisements —Accompanied by the Cash, And not exceeding one square, will bo inserted three times for one Dollar, and twenty-five cents tor each additional insertion. Those of a greater length in proportion.- JoD-PaiHTiKO— tSUch,a3 Hand Bills, Posting Bills, Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, &c., &c., oxo fcuted with accuracy and at the shortest notice. I CANNOT CALI HER MOTHER, DY SARAH T. BOLTON. The marriage rite is over, And though I turned aside, To keep the guests from seeing . i The tears I could not bide j I Wreallied my face in smiling, . And led my little brother To greet my father’s chosen, Bull could not call her mother. {jbe Is a fair young creature, .j/HJ’ith a meek and gentle air, With blue eyes soft and loving, And silken sunny hair— I know my father gives her . The love he bore another; But If she wore an angel I could never call her mother. To-night I heard her singing A song I used to love, When Us sweet notes were uttered By her who sings above; It pained my heart to hear it, And my tears I could not smother, For every word was hallowed By the dear voice of my mother. My father, in the sunshine Of happy days to come, May half forget tho styidow That darkened out old home 5 His heart no more is lonely, But I and little brother. Must still bo orphan’d children— God can give us but one mother. They’ve borne my mother’s picture From its accustomed place, And sot beside my father’s A younger, fairer face ; They’ve made her dear old chamber The boudoir of another, But I will not forget thee, My own, my angel mother. WE MIGHT HAVE BEEN, There is a whisper ringing clear, In every sleepless listener’s car, A whisper ol but scanty cheer, And hoard distinctlier every year s “You might have boon—yon might have been.” Breathing throughout tho hush of night, It shuns companionship and light; A knell, a blessing, and a blight, tVo profit if wo hoar aright— “ You might have been—you might have been.” As memory bids the past arise, Tho soaring hopes that swept the skies, (Each in Its narrow grave now lies,) Wc hear, and not with tearless oj'cs, “You might have boon—you might have been.” Wo might have won tho meed of fame, Essayed and reached a worthier aim— Had more of joy and loss of shame, Nor heard aa.from a tongue qf fame— “ You might have been—you might have been,” ;;^Bisfepanwo|^v' ; TfIBUOSDEIIS OP LB^AUVIS.PiS- Wo lounged about tbo hotel ofLans-10-bourg during tho hot hours of a Bummer dayjwhllo men and horses wore taking thoir rest; and so far as any movements of animate nature wore .concern ed: It might have boon midnight. In tho even ing, however, tho world seemed to come alive, and preparations were made for tho journey over Moot Cenls. With tho additional guides, pos tillions, and cattle, wo formed a respectable ca valcade. Tho moon shown brightly upon our path, with a light so clear and soft, so silvery and so chastened, that it contrasted most plea santly with tho dazzling, scorching heat of tho past day. Tho atmosphere was as culm as Na ture’s rest could bo, and tho purity of the air gave an elasticity and freshness to our spirits that wo could scarcely have imagined. Fire flies sported round us like animated diamonds, and the side of tho road was bespangled with glow-worms. Under such circumstances, one fools what Is tho pleasure of mere animal life, whore there Is tho height of corporal enjoyment without tho aid of any stimulant but that which heaven's pure breath affords. It appeared al most treason against tho majesty of nature, to disturb tho silence which reigned through her dominions'? and when wo spoke it was in a sub dued tone. Wo walked on foot tho greater part of tho ascent, up three long windings made in the face of tho mountain. Then the extra horses were turned adrift, to find their own way back to tho stables, and wo entered tho carriage to gallop down tbo Piedmontese side of tho decli vity. My nearest companion, an elderly Frenchman, who was usually very garrulous, had boon on this occasion much absorbed in thought, and hod preserved silence for such on extraordinary length of time, though tho twitchings of Ids countenance and the shrug of his shoulders plainly told that ho was holding an interesting conversation with his own heart and memory.— At length I asked tho cause of his musings and frequent ejaculations. “Ah, sir!” said ho, “how different are tho circumstances of tills night from those 1 oxpe tionccd some thirty years ago, when I traversed this mountain. It was on a wintry day, when tho ground was covered with snow, which lay in some places to tho depth of forty foot, and filled up many of the ravines, so that wo wore in con stant danger of going over a precipice. Tho wind blow tbo snow drift so fiercely as to blind our eyes, and tho guides wore frequently at a loaf to discover the right track. Six men wore obliged to hold up the carriage with ropes fixed to the top, to prevent Its being blown over; and the patient horses, poor brutes I often turned thoir fUcos from tho droadfhl stortu. Wo wore almost frozen with cold, although wo opened our portmanteaus, and put oifall our warorobo. Heaven defend mo from such another journey, and tho horrible night that followed in that mur derous hull” Perceiving him to bo much excited, I felt tho tuoro anxious to know tbo strange events to which ho alluded, and asked what could have tempted film to travel In such dismal weather, and wlmt horrible circumstances had occurred on tho way. Ho then gave mo tho following narrative i i • I was then young, an officer in tho army, in iho time when Napoleon carried on his last wars and all tills country was in a very troubled con dition. At tho period referred to, I was sent with an older officer to boar some Important de spatches to Italy. Jlo was an Italian who had onco boon in tho service of Austin, hut had boon taken prisoner at Marengo, and had joined the army of tho ISmporor. Ho was a clover person In whom muoh Confidence seemed to be placed, but so wary and suspicious In his disposition, ns sometimes to umuso and sometimes to frighten mo. Ho scorned to make every allowance fur ray youth, and seldom cheeked ray ardent spir its, for I was gay and thoughtless? but I was likewise bravo ami skillful In tho uso of arms, for which reason, I suppose, the captain took mo with him on that Journey. Those mountains wore greatly Infested by robbers, chiefly disban ded soldiers of Italy, so that few persons could travel in safety. In a short time wo shall pass by a place called Lo Mauvais Paj, well know for tho inurdors which have boon there committed. A woody tnarsh lies on tho left hand of tho road, and tho ruins o( some buildings destroyed In tho war on Itmetijtaii BY JOHN B. BRATTON. VOL 41. the right—l shall point them out to you—and among these the bandits lurked and suddenly pounced upon a passer by, or shot him before ho was awaro of his danger. And a little furth er on, where two roads meet, you wilhseo some largo houses, which were once inns, and the landlord was in communication with the robbers of Lo Mauvafs Pas, so that the traveller who escaped from Scyllo fell into Charybdis. Well, sir, I have told you about the dreadfbl weather in which wo were obliged to cross Mont Cenis, tho passage of which occupied the whole day; and as our orders were peremptory, wo pushed forward at all hazards till near midnight, when wo reached the door of the Inn I have mention ed, where we wore to pass tho night. I suppose wo escaped all previous dangers by tho lateness of tho hour, as no gentlemen were expected to travel on these roads after dark. Glad wo were when wo arrived at tho hotel 5 tho very thought of a warm fire and hot soup gave rao life. Wo knocked Jong and loud be fore the gate was opened, and tho carriage pass ed into tho court. The captain told our servant who was also a soldier, to bring hia little port manteau and a small canteen of provisions into Iho room where we wore to sit 5 tho other bag gage was left in tho caleche. I saw the landlord narrowly eyo the portmanteau, but he said noth ing, and hastened to get ready for our entertain ment. A small stove was lighted at one end of a largo room, tho other end of which I could scarcely sec; so that It was far from comfortable; but it was not for us to complain, after what we had suffered in the cold. A thin candle was placed on a table, a cloth was spread, and some bouillon was soon served up. But the captain could not eat it, and ordered Giuseppe to bring some compote out of the canteen, from which he made a savoury soup. Tho host then brought up a fricassee ; but it was also rejected, and a cold fowl substituted for It. This rather displeased mo,and I was beginning to intimate that I should prefer tho when a scowl of tho cap tain’s made me shrink Into Insignificance, and I let him do as he pleased. As ho doggedly re- | fused to eat anything furnished by the landlord on the plea of a weak stomach, which I had never heard him complain of before, for he was a groat gourmand, I guessed that he was afraid of poison, and secretly execrated his suspicious temper, rejoicing that 1 was not a Jealous Italian. “Have you any other guests here to-night?” asked tho captain, appearing to take no notice of tho prying curiosity of the landlord, who In vain tried to ascertain who and what we were. “Only a priest on his way to Turin. Poor man. he has boon stopped here for two days I*> the storm, ns ho travels on foot.” “And what may bo tho revemed father’s name?” asked my companion. “Fra Carlo Bonevolute,” replied tho other. “Ah! that is a distinguished name. I think I have met with some padres of tho name.” “Very likely,” said tho innkeeper. “There are others of the family In high orders ; he had a brother killed at the battle of Marengo, as be went to administer tho consolations of religion to some dying soldiers. They area devout family.” “Ha f is Padre Carlo gone to bed ? Perhaps ho would do us the honor to drink wilh us.” Tho host rcj»licd, that ho had retired to say his prayers and, count his rosary, which ho did several tildes a day,holy man 1 but ho might not yet bo gone to sleep. * Presently, tho padro made hia appearance, with an air of-Dieuk devotion, creased himself, and hlcssodus In'tho name of tho, Holy .Virgin and hlsjiatrbn saint Otylo. Tho Captain' gave him.onchßWirohing glance, so piercing na almost S’ dlscoEßpOßO-hlm-; but It passed qver, andwe. entered into friendly convcrstlon. A couple of bottles,witlj facetious talk, wnrmod us thorough ly, and wo proposed retiring to rest. Tho cap tain was shown Into a bedchamber which he did not at all fancy. Wo had before conversed about tho Italian inns, and he bad cautioned me to lock and barricade the door at niglitJ Now, ho was himself put into a room which hart three doors besides tho ono by which wc entered from tho stair, and none of them could bo locked, as tho chamber was a perfect thoroughfare. He .looked much discomposed, and asked which of the rooms I was to occupy. The landlord apo logised for taking mo a little way off, us the neighboring bods wore already occupied, and it was too late to make, alterations. Ono of the adjoining rooms.was taken by the priest; anoth ther belonged tp’himself,'and his wife was in bed ; and tho"Othop door led to a passage and small apartment to which his daughter and maid had gone, giving up thclf beds to to tho com pany. ] was then conducted to a room on tho other side of the padre’s, but had scarcely got got into bed when the captain came in, bringing his little portmanteau and candle. Ho broke out Into a furious invective against (ho vermin which were in his bed, which would render it Impossible for him to sleep there. As this mis fortune was no uncommon thing in these coun tries, it excited in mo no surprise save that an old soldier should bo daunted by such diminu tive enemies. Upon my instantly offering to resign my conch and try if I could not live among those Lilipu tain marauders, ho imporntivuly declined, and said that he would repose In a chair beside mo. lie then examined the door, and found tha( it hud no fastening, and ns it opened into tho padre’s chamber, it could not bo barricaded on on our side. lie was terribly disconcerted, and walked about in considerable emotion ; then sotting tiie lighted candle on a marble commode near the door, lie seated himself near mo and bolide a table, on which ho placed two loaded pistols and a carbine, which ho examined and cocked, and laid my sword upon my bed. A number of curious thoughts passed through my brain, tickled with the Idea of a hero of many fights being dislodged from his encamp ment by u few Insects 5 and my imagination sug gested a glowing picture of this wonderful campaign, which would form tho subject of an excellent furco. And then bis timidity—to be afraid of a lonely landlord, with three women and a holy priest J He would make another Don Quixote fighting with a windmill or a flock of sheep. Iso relished tho thought and sight, that I was unwilling to yield to Morpheus, whose magic influence had become heavy, but was be ginning to dozo, when I thought 1 heard tho croaking of tho door, and looking through tho curtain, I saw, or dreamed I saw, a faint shadow dimly reflected upon tho wall. Turning to the captain, I perceived him eying tho door, with a pistol in his hand, which )io was just raising, when tho door quickly closed, and all was silent. About nn hour nllorwards tho same was repeat ed* and sloop vanished from my eyes. 1 dared not apeak to the captain who did not close his eyes for an instant, but kept them fixed with sentinel keenness upon tho door, and his hand upon a pistol. Ho called ns early, ordered 1 horses to bo put to tho carriage, hud told Gius ! oppo to- make coffee in the mpdo ho liked it.— ' Giuseppe looked In an inquiring way, caught his I oyo, ftnd immediately obeyed. Tho pndro joined us, and very meekly asked permission to occupy a seat in our calocho, which, to ray surprise, was courteously granted, and ho was Invited to partake of ourearjy ropast. Tho captain kopt him In constant conversation and although ho changed his seat once or twice, always managed to rise for something and sit opposite to him, and never to bo beyond tho reach of his pistols. I was confounded for they Boomed to bo playing a game of movements* At length tho word was given, “Lot us go!” and I was curious to sco how the game would now bo played, especially as somo additional pieces had boon on the board, in tho shape of tho landlord’s wife, daughter and chambermaid, nil big, buxom damos, whoso tall figures I very much admired, but of whom my companion seem ed us suspicious ns of tho holyfathor. Ho pass ed no compliments and appoarod much ohugiin od. Yet ho managed matters qjost adroitly, his ‘‘OUR COUNTRY—MAY IT ALWAYS BK BIGHT—BUT RIGHT OR WRONG, OUR COUNTRY.” obioct, as I thought, being to let nobody walk behind us. “Signor, run and tell the postillion to mount tho white horse, for tho black one sometimes kicks. Signore, please take these cloaks and spread them on tho seats of the carriage. Girl, take tho candle. Father Beucvolute, bo kind enough to take charge of tin's bottle of eau-de vie, and put it into the far pocket of the carriage. Giuseppe, bring (bis portmanteau. Adiamo I” said ho, pushing all of us before him as ho fol lowed with his flre-arms. In a trice we were at tho carriage door. “Father, don’t get out again 5 pray bo seated. 0, Signore, pray hold that black horse I Up, Giuseppe, and keep this carbine in your hand, and look about you for robbers. It is a bad road. Ladies, addio !Va !” Wo wore off before we knew where we were, and the captoin urged tho postillion forward ; but wo had not proceeded a quarter of a mile when ho called out to stop 5 and in a hurried tone, addressing Fra Carlo, said : “Pardon me, Father Bcnovohite ; I have loft some papers of importance on my bed do, pray, go and fetch them 5 we await your return ;”and without stopping for his reply, opened the door and helped him to descend. I was just begin ning to offer my own services, when a grinding oath, half emitted, silenced mo. “‘Goojj father, do bo quick 5 for I can (rust nobody with those papers on this vile road but yourself; no thief would rob a priest!” It was Impossible to refuse ; and Fra Carlo set off* at greater speed than I had deemed him capable of tfsing. When ho was out of sight, my companion ordered the postillion to drive on quickly. Ho replied that we were to wait for tho padre; but tho captain thundered out; “Hark you I make no noise with your whip, but spur your horses to a gallop, and keep (hem galloping till I bid you go slower. Tho moment you stop or crack ytJbr whip, I shall send a bul let through your head. Va !” Off wo went, slap-dash ; how long I know not, for I was overwhelmed with surprise, afraid that . tho captain had become deranged, and that I might be the first victim of bis violent temper. At length ho called out, “Piano! piaro!” and we Instantly passed through St. Antonin, where we met a military patrol, to whom tho captain showed Ids passport, and said that there were suspicious characters on tho road between that and Le Manvais Pas. Tho officer bowed low and ordered his men to keep a sharp look-out. As wo proceeded, ho smiled and exclaimed : .“Now we arc safe amlxantake breath a little —thanks to the Holy and all tho guardian saints for our deliverance!”, I ventured to say, that though some, things did look rathe* suspicious in the inn,yoft could not fix upon anything really villlnous, and should not have Imagined any harm,Unless I had perceived him to be so much on hfs guard ; that I did not much like the landlord, yet the women were handsome, and I was much pleased [ with Fra Carlo ; but the priest and himself seem- ‘ cd fo be playing a game at seats and places, and I ho had certainly checkmated him at last. 1 “Yes,” said ho, “it was a game for life. So Carlo Bencvoluto has assumed the padre now ' methinks lie will not long wear tho cowl. That I man was in my regiment when I was with the Austrians, and ho was condemned to death for theft and murder, but escaped through tho arti fice of his brother, a priest, who was shot at Ma rengo, as ho deserved. Ho has forgotten me; but I well remember him, and-that gash on his ’ forehead, which I gave him whoh I qut him down, 1 but missed splitting his skull. And yon bed— there has-been foul play there. ’ Ton are yet a !. young, dog of war,; but I can smell blood &ny ’ lt, and traced It to ; the mattress, which I found all stained with gore. Had Tfallen asleep, .wo should bothuftavo slept there our last sleep, ns many, I fear,'have done before s but wo shall hear if Captain Hoed, who passed last week, has arrived safely 5 if not, they shall all be broken on the wheel. Those hand some women ! I will wager a thousand scudi they were men in disguise 5 I never saw such men in Italy before.* In snob times as those, young man, you mnsf bo always watching, if you value your life and love Mademoiselle Fouchct . te ; and remember that walls have ears and eyes, too.” I intimated that I thought so when I saw him pointing a pistol at a shadow twice during the nigh*. ‘•A shadow! It was Urn shade of Fra Carlo, and such shadows play with stilettoes; 1 saw one when his clonk was off as I passed through his room to come to you. Ghosts do not flinch from a levelled pistol os ho did.” At this moment tho Frenchman hade me look, for wo were approaching the dreadful spot.— There, Indeed, stood two ruinous houses, form ing a largo mass of building, with small grated windows, and a high court, nil shut up, and go ing to decay. Ho looked and shrugged his shoul ders, and continued: “Tho cursed bandits! they met with a deserv ed fate. The manner of their capture I have heard only by report, for wo returned to Franco by another route. One evening, at dusk, two horsemen rode up to tho Inn, but when tho largo gate was opened,one of the beasts became frisky, and refused to enter. This frightened the oth er, and they capered about Co the great discom fort of tho lamllord’tmd bis people, who could not come into tho gateway or stmt the door be causo of their antics. As (hey were becoming more quiet, a posse of gendarmerie dashed in and took possession of tho premises. A search was instituted, and tho remains of two hundred or three hundred human bodies wore found in tho grounds, besides a great deal of plunder. I need scarcely say that Italian justice did dread ful work with tho murderers ; and (lie inn has been shut up over since. No one will into It—it is haunted; but tho Mauvuis Pas Ib” still a dangerous place lor lone travellers.” A cnrblner at this moment rodo up, and ask ed our party If wb had seen any person on tho road, for a robbery had been committed a few days ago in that place. Romance op Real Life. —Anoldlndy named Mary Mftdgct, aged 72, died at Ohclsca, Lon don, not long since. Her history was an event ful one. Her grandfather was an English no bleman. At the ago of 18 she eloped with her husband, a wealthy American, who owned a largo property in Pennsylvania and South Caro lina. Shortly afterwards they sailed for tho United States, but tho vessel was captured by a French privateer, and carried into Brest. They managed to escape, resided a short time in England, and again sot sail for America, but were onco moro captured by the French.— Tho French ship wna in Us turn captured by tho Americans and taken into New York, For some years sho resided with her husband in South Carolina, but during tho troubles her husband was killed, and sho fell ill. Stripped of all her property, shemanaged to get a gratui tous passage back to Britain, alter twenty year’s absence. Unable to And her relatives, she applied to tho British government: but the government refused to do anything for her, in consequence of tho absence of tho original of one of the documents on which founded her claim. For a long time she was on tho verge of starvation, until at length somo distant rel ative gave her a small annual donation, on which sho managed to subsist. At lost sho died as above stated. minister, while preparing his next Sun day sermon, stopped occasionally to review what ho had written, and, ns a matter of course, to erase somo portions which on consideration soomod fo require improvement. Wiillo doing 80, ho was accosted by his lllflo ion, a child nlio.it throo years of ago. .‘Father, does Goa toll you what to iironol. I” “Certainly, my child.” “Thou what ma|toa you scratch it out I** CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, JUNE 22, 1854, THE WEPT AND TEE DNWEPT. DT MRS. SIGOURNEY. Weep for tho smitten bud that falls Untimely, ftomitf Stem, And ne’er in fond ofToction’s eyes Must glass ita glowing gem, Nor in this fragrant bosom know The Joy that noontijlo suns bestow: Weep for tho reprobate who steals , Dishonored to thi dust, Life’s highest purpose unachieved, And mocked its holiest trust; Yes—weep for himwho stained the scroll, And scorned tho glrer of his soul: Bat as for him whoso mortal span 1 Completes its perfect round 5 His gifts well-used —his length of days With every virtue; crowned ? No tears for him—ho gains tho bliss Of more exalted spheres than this. Tho statesman Whd his country’s cause Marred not,with selfish aim But over-to her hour of need, , With patriot ardhr came 5 Write his pure' deeds, for fhturc years, In glory, ollundlmmed hy tears. No tears—save what tho heart oflovo O’er its own losp must weep \ Yield ye his fame to History’s hand For unborn keep ; Lift high tho pagfljlthat earth shall see What Heaven canglvo and Man may be. THE ‘CAUCASIAN RACE. The following extract is. taken from the Life of Alfred the Great.; It shows in a striking light the immense energy of the Caucasian race, and their commanding influence upon the destiny of the human family: • For three thousand years ihe Caucasian race have continued under-all circumstances and in every variety of situation, to exhibit the same traits and the sarao indomitablo No calamities however fejjjt—-no desolating wars, no destructive pe&uepW, no wasting famine, no night of darkness )nowevcr universal and glcomy—have able to keep them long in degradation or barbarism. Theryjs not now a barbarous people to bo found in the whole race, and there has not been one for a thousand i years. • Nearly all the gtcas exploits, and achieve-1 ments, too, which have Signalized the history of I the world, pmbrmcd by this branch of the human flimily.: They have given celeb rity to every a£e in which tncy have lived, and to every country that they have ever possessed, by some groat deedior discovery, or achieve ment, which their intellectual energies have ac -1 coinpl'ished. sAa Egy'ptigns, they built the pyramids, and jrtlarfd enormous monoliths, | which remain arperfqct now as they were when first completed thirty] centuries ago. As Phoe nicians, they constructed ships, perfected navi gation, and compass or chart, every known sca.V "As Greeks, they modelled architectural cinbdUwiments, cut sculptures in marble, and wrote ppems and history, which have been cvcrsincoihc admiration of the world. As Romans, ijusy carried a complete and per fect military,organltjtion over fifty nations and a hundred.mUhons-of'pcdplc, with one supremo 'mistress over all, ruins'of whose splendid palaces and monurlTcnts hare not' yet passed a way. Thus has this race gone, always distin guishing itself by energy, accivily and intellec tual power, wherever it has dwelt, whatever language it has spoken, and in whatever period of the world it has lived. It has invented print ing, and filled every country that it occupies with permanent records of the past, accessible to all. It has explored the heavens, and rcduc-1 cd to precise and exact calculations all the com-1 plicated motions there. It has ransacked the earth, systematized, arranged, and classitied the vast melange of plants, and animals, and mineral products to be found upon its surface. It makes steam and falling water to do more than half the work necessary for feeding and clothing the human race: and the howling winds of the ocean, the very emblems of resistless de struction and terror, it steadily employs in in terchanging the products of the world and bear ing the means of comfort and plenty to eVery clime. Tho Caucasian race has thus, in all ages, and in all tho varieties of condition in which the dif ferent branches of it have been placed, evinced tho same great characteristics, marking the ex* istcncc of some innate and constant constitu tional superiority, ond yet, in tho different branches subordinate differences appear, which ore to bo accounted for, perhaps, partly by dif ference of circumstances, and partly, perhaps, by similar constitutionol diversities, by which one branch is distinguished from other branches, as the whole race is from tho other races with which we have compared them. Among these branches, wo, Anglo-Saxons ourselves, claim for tho Anglo-Saxons the superiority over all others. A Good Story. Some of the students of the Indiana State University, were suspected to be in the habit of drinking brandy. Where they obtained it was a mystery. Dr. Daily determined to ferret out the secret. Calling into a small drug store, the proprietor asked him “how that sick student, Sir. Carter, came on?” Smelling a rat, the Doctor answered in an evasive manner, and soon drew out of tho apothecary that the students under suspicion had been m the habit of pur chasing brandy for a oick student by tho name of Carter; that they said ho was quite low, ond was kept alivo by stimulants ; that tho young gentlemen seemed very much devoted to him. Now tho secret was out. This Carter was a fictitious choractcr, and tho Doctor had theso- However, ho kept his own counsel. The next‘time the students assembled in chapel for prayers, ho cost his eyes over the crowd ond satisfied himself that Carter’s nurses were all present. Tho devotions wore duly conducted, and then ho called the attention of the students, remarking that ho had ft mournful task to per form —os tho President of the University it be come his duty to announce the death of their follow student, Mr. Carter. After a lingering illness of several weeks, a portion of which time ho was kept a/ive sltnuuanfs, he had breath ed Ids last. Ho had no doubt that this announce ment would fall eadly on the cars of those who had so faithfully attended to Ids wants, but ho hoped they would bear it with resignation—ho hoped they would reflect on tho ofr-rcpcated words, “ Memento mor»” —that he would now no longer detain, but leave them to their own reflections! Tho result of this announcement was startling. None of tho Professors, and but few of tho students, had over heard of Carter. “Who is ho ?” was whispered; none knew,, but the ' ‘kind friends who attended him, ana they wouldn’t tell; ond tho President seemed so deeply affected , they didn’t like to ask him. Brodkvm American. A Philosophical Answuh. —‘‘Undo Jo/ saidftn observing Ilttlo boy, “our folks always put up tho window when tho room is tilled with smoko, and tho wind blows in so as to prevent tho smoko from going out that way; now, where docathosmoko go?” “It goes into tho people s eyes/* was undo Jo’i? philosophic answer. tft I H ffltiMjt PAUL’S GHOST. It was iust in the nigh edge of a summer even ing, and Mrs. Partington, who had worked at her knitting all day began to feel a little dozy. She felt, as she described it to her neighbor, Mrs. Battlegash, “a sort of allovcrness and those who have felt as she thus described it, will know the precise sensation; —for ourselves, never having felt so, we cannot explain it. It was a sort of half twilight, when the day light begins to be thick and muddy, and a time when ghosts are said to be around fully os plen ty asat the classic hour of midnight. Wenev er could see tho propriety of restricting ghostly operations to this sombre hour, and, as far as our experience goes, wehaveseen as many ghosts at the “noon of day” as at tho“noonof night.” She never told us were think ing of ghosts at this time ; indeed, all we know about the ghost Mrs- Battlegash, and wc shall have to givistho narration as we had it under Mrs. B.'fl own hand : “Says Mrs. Parish ton, says she, ‘‘Mrs. Bat tle,” she always calls me Battle, though my name is Battlcgasfc—my husband’s name, and his father’s—says she, .‘Mrs; Battle, I’ve seen an apprehensionand I thought she was going to have an asterisk, she was so very pale and haggard like ; and saysl, ‘WhatVi the matter?’ for I felt kind of skeered. I had heered a good deal about the spirituous manifestations, and didn’t know but they had been a manifesting her. - Says I, ‘What’s the matter,’ agin, and then says she. as solum as a grave-yard ‘l’ve seen Paul!’ I felt cold chills a crawling all over me, but 1 mustard courage enough to say, ‘Do tell!’ ‘Yes,’ says she, ‘I saw him with ray mortal eyas, just as he looked when he was in this tenement of clay, with the soger do Vs and impertinence he had on the last day he sarved his country in the auxiliary.’ “I tried to comfort the poor creturby telling her that I guessed he didn’t kcer enough about , her to want to come back, and as his estate had ; all bccn'feeUlcd sacreligiously, it would be very I umeasonable indeed m him to come back to disturb her. “ ‘Where did yon see him?’ says I. ‘Out into the yard,’ rfaid she. 'When did you see him?’ says I. ‘Just now,’ said she. “Are you shore it was he ?’ said I, determined to get at the bottom of it. ‘Yes,’said she, ‘if everan apprehension did come back, that ’ere was one. Perhaps it is there now.’ Then, saysl,Ruth,’ says I, le’sgo and see.’ “She riz right up, and we walked along thro’ the long entry into her room, and looked out of her back window, and there, shore enough, was a sight os .froze my blood to ealves-foot jelly.— There was the soger cap and coat, as natural as lift, with Vhotompioh atop. My heart came up intumy mouth,sothatlcould havespititout just as easy as not. Mrs. Part’nton, says she, ‘What dd you think of it ? isn’t it ins apprehen sion ? But I’m determined to speak to it.’ “I tried to persude her not to, but she insist ed on it, and out she went. “ ‘Paul!’ said she, ‘what upon airth do you want, that you should come back artcr it so apprehensively?’ The figure was sitting on the top of the pump when she spoke, and didn’t take no notice of her, ‘Paul!’ said she, a little louder. Then slowly and solemnly that ’ere cop turned round, and instead of Paul, Mr. Editor, if you’ll' believe it, it was Iko, tho little scapegrace, that had frightened us almost out of our wits, if we every Iwd’tmjv Tho boy, I ’believe, will bo tho means of somebody's death. Mrs. Pnrt’nton grew very red in the face, ond razed her hand to inflict corporal punishment onto flic young corporal, but tho boy looked up kind of pleasantly like, andshe couldn’tfind the heart to strike him. though I told her if she spam! the rod she would spile that ’ere child/ It is fortnight for him that he isn’t o child of mine, I can tell him.’ I Here Mrs. Battlegash’s narrative ends. We - can fancy the scene in the yard ; the youngster in the corporal’s coat, the ml face changing to pleasant equanimity, the raised hand, indicative of a temper, subsiding, as the waves do when the wind cease to blow, and peace, like the eve-, ning star above them, pervading and giving grace to the tableau. 1 Oriental Modesty and Politeness.—A 1 traveler in tho Oriental countries relates.the following: “At the town of Dear I got accidentally into a little adventure that might have proved ex tremely unpleasant. Small as the place was, I contrived to lose my way, and became entan gled among a number of garden walls and nar row passages. Proceeding along one of these, I fancied I heard female voices, and presently, emerging into a shady court, beheld a young Circassian in tho bath, attended by a black female slave. In Christendom, tho lady would certainly have shrieked, and brought forth the whole household in a moment; but her oriental education had taught her great caution. Cast ing on me a look of surprise, as she stood up right in the marble basin, as white as the mar ble itself, she asked how I came thither. 1 replied that I had lost my way. and knew not how I had come nor how to depart. Perceiving my perplexity to bo unfeigned, she replied— “ Stranger, you arc in much peril; but follow the slave, and she will conduct you to a place of safety.” So saying, sho waved her hand towards a dark corridor, through which, alter bowing to the lady, 1 followed the negress, till we reached a small door, opening into the street. As it would have been extremely awkward to meet any gentlemen of tho establishment with in tho walls, as they might have shot mo first and then inquired how I came there, I felt con siderably eased by escape.” Tun Farmer and tub Artist.—“Of what use is all your study and your books.’’ said an honest farmer to an ingenious artist —“They don’t make tho corn grow, nor produce vegeta bles for market. My Sam can do more good with his plough in one month, than you can do with your books and papers in one year. ” j'What plough docs your son use?” asked the artist quietly. “Why, ho uses ’s plough, to be sure.— Ho can do nothing with any other. By using this plough, wo save half the labor ; and raise three times as much os wo did with tho old concern* ’ ’ Tho artist turned over ono of his shoots, and showed tho former tho drawing of Ins much praised plough, saying with n smile, “I tin tho inventor of vour plough, and my name is . The astonished fanner shook the artist lieartl- Iv by tho hand, nnd invited him to call at Ills house, and make it his home ns long ns he liked.” {£7>We heard an amusing story told ns oc curring on tho lost arrival of tho Mexico at Gal veston? It appears that among the list of pas sengers on tho manifest tho name of tho ‘Earl of Durham/ was legibly recorded. Tho news soon spread, ond was promptly communicated tho English Consul, vmo, in the generosity of to his nature, at onccongaged two rooms for his distinguished countryman at tho Tremont, and then proceeded with a carriage to tho steamer to convoy him to Ida quarters, when 'one gran’ mistake' was discovered. Tho Earl of Durham on tho Mexico proved to bo a largo Durham Dull from Kentucky 1 Tho Consul waa doing well at last accounts. AT $2,00 PER ANNUM. NO. 2. INDIAN MOTDEB’S AFFECTION. The ensuing incident is rein ted by the Rev. A. Stevens in the National Magazine, in his “ Editorial Jottings in the "West A Chief and his two wives were converted, and wished to join the church. He was a truer man, and had a warmer heart, than was usual apMUJg his race. It was necessary that one of hia wives should be put away; they themselves, as Christian converts, saw and considered the necessity, but the process of effecting the sepa ration was heart-rending. The details of the process could not be determined in the wretched family, and the missionary was sent for. He found them in the deepest grief. One of the wives was young and beautiful both in person and character; the other was aged and infirm, but equally esteemed for her virtues. It was settled that the latter should be retained ; the other bowed her head and consented : it was right; it was the most merciful arrangement. But a fearful struggle remained; the young wile was a mother; she had an only child, an infant. The chief loved it; it was, perhaps, to be the inheritor of his authority and honors; ;he could not part with it. "Never," said the missiona ry, "did I witness a more affecting scene than now followed. No possible terms could be a greed upon between the contending aflcction of the two parents. The mother sat on the ground heart-broken, her tears dropping upon the child that lay in her arms; the chief stood off, agon ized and wecplngj find the elder wife shrunk n way from the-.scene.” The missionary propos ed at lost, I it should be decided by i lot, and the child fell to the chief, but the moth-' cr clung to it. The missionary urged her to I carry it to the arms of the chief, but she could not; her sobs were her only reply. "Ho then directed the chief to lake it, but tin- latter, over come at the grief of the heart-broken mother, could not step forward to do so. What was to be done? The agreement was binding. Inin-' dian life the father was the only sure protector of the child; the mother's own future marriage and protection would be affected, too. by the result. It was a painful, a heart-rending case, but had po alternative. The missionary had to advance to the prostrate woman, and lake the child himself. She reverenced his ofilcc; she believed the ’bet necessary ; and with irrepres sible tears and sobs, yielded the child : but no sooner hod ho taken it from her bosom, and placed it in the arms of the father, than the wo man leaped toward it, and with outstretched • hands, struggled ttvrogoin it, cryingfrnnticalllv, “ Give me my child! Oh, give mo my child ! Do what you will with mo, but give me my child !” I saw the retained wife of the Chief at the camp; she bears the highest Christian charac ter, and her husband has, I understand, main tained bis Christian integrity. The broken hearted mother found a refuge in the grave. Murder or the Emperor Paul op Russia. —I been over the palace where the scene was acted, accompanied by Dr. tlricvc, who was much in the confidence of the Emperor, and who gave him a draught on the very night he was murdered, about an hour before it took place. For a long time before his death, but particularly for the last ten days, his mind was in a constant state of irritation. He suspected that some plot was going on, but could not fix j on the authors of it. It is more than probable I had ho lived,' for forty-right hours . longer his I sons would have been shut up in the fortress. — Those who were to be the immediate actors, about ten in number, had supped together, and drunk freely. On their coming to the outer folding door, the valet do chambro, seeing the adjutant on duty, opened the door of the cham ber where the Emperor was in bed ; but sus pecting something wrong immediately ofter, from the number of people at that hour, he shut it again, and called to the Emperor. Paul, alarmed by the noise, jumped out of bed. It is thought that he had attempted to find the door of the Empress’s apartment, but failed ; and was found by General Honingsen Whim! a | screen in his shirt. lie immediately threw ] himself into one of his attitudes, and began to ! expostulate ; but almost immediately he re j ceivcd from ope of the party a blow on the tem , pie, supposed to have been given with the butt end of a pistol, and after some struggling was strangled with a sash. The business look up nearly three-quarters of an hour. The next morning all was quiet, and the people were seen embracing and giving each other j«y in the street.— Buckingham. Death of Mostqomeuv, the I’okt. —James Montgomery, the poet, whoso death was an nounced in the foreign intcJligcnec lately receiv ed, was in the enjoyment of a literary pension of jCISO a year. At the early age of 12 years he produced several poems, hut being poor, he was placed os an assistant in a shop m York shire. Subsequently he went to London, and wrote a volume of poems, but failing to ilnd a publisher, he again entered a shop. In 1792, lie obtained work on the Shellleld Register, and soon after became its editor, changing its name to the .Sheffield Jrts. In the columns of this print, be advocated political and religious free dom, for whiqh he was prosecuted, fluid and imprisoned, in the first instance for reprinting a song commemorating “ The Fall of the Bas tile;” in the second ease for an account he gave of a riot in Sheffield. Confinement could not crush his love of political justice, and on his second release ho went on advocating the doc trines of freedom, as before in his paper and in his books. Ills subsequent career and great success as ft poet, aro Known to the reading world. He died at the venerable nge of 82 years. Benfeit or DaUNKKNNEsa. —Dickons, in his “Sunshine on Dally Paths,” convoys in the fol lowing laughable manner, a groat social t truth: As wo walked along, my (Vlcnd began to make calculations ns to how many people flourish in every country on the bad hubiis and vices of their fallow citirons. 110 wove a chain of ter rible length, to show how many men were inter rated In the drunfccnneis <\f the country- A man reeled past us In the Imbecile state of the voice. “That man,” said my eccentric friend, “will <i o the Stale some service to-night. Presently he will create n disturbance ; a policeman will walk him off to the station-house, and bo promoted; his hat will bo broken, to tho advantage of a hat ter t his shirt front will bo torn, to the benefit of some poor lone seamstress; and there, ho has broken his yard of cloy, to tho advantage of tho manufactory wo have just loft. Dcllrum trem ens will come at lust, and with it a surgeon; and with tho surgeon,herbs which are now grow ing under tho burning boat of Indian skios.” (C7"‘*You going out again, this evening, Mr. Tompkins V 1 “Yes, my dear to a stag party at Sir. Crum mcl’s.” “Stag party—hump—l guess you mean a stagger party, you brute.’ 1 This was a stag gerer and Tompkins slumped in his bools. Inquisitive Landlady. —Bless mo, tho gen teel foreign gentleman has gone away without paying Ins month’s board, and left his trunk with nothing in it but bricks. I wonder how* ho got them hero ? Disappointed Servant Girl.—• Well, ma am, I I think ho roust linro brought them up stairs | in his hat. d!)bte nnb (Bnhs. friendship is a slow grower. - ; . Ky* Envy is more irreconcilable tbiuk hatred- OCT 31 Marriage is womans constant thought-- |£7* No man is prospering who is ntft doing, right. . _ [£7*Mony women aro smarter than their lords; but some men beat their wives. (£7* Some patient people are lho T xnOst stupid members of society. •; ’ “ Doo Catcher’s Motto.—" I come to bury Cocsor, not to praise him!” An Ouject op "Interest.” —A girl whoso income is 53000 a year. ' . - ‘ (£7"The man who "took It for granted,” found it something clsb. [£7* The Worst feature in a man’s face is his nose—when stuck into other people’s business. (£7* The rcasonwhy some people put on airs, is because they have nothing else to put on. A Conversational Truth. —Women never tire of talking about babies, and men about horses. I£7* A friend of ours kept his hands warm all winter, from "mittens” ho from the ladies.' Cheap way for a supply of comfortables; ■.. - (£7' A man who shows a desire to’ dp good/ is at once mode a pack-horse, and those who cannot use him call him a hypocrite. A Strike. —Our “Devil” won’t bo called by that muchabused name any longer. He declares himself the "typographical spirit of evil,” Bellicose.—The town of Norwalk, Conn., has purchased a cannon for sso# in order to protect it " from foreign invasion.” ’• I£7* A'‘newspaper is the life-preserver that rescues those who would otherwise sink into— oblivion. A Kovel Trade. —Somebody advertises to sit up.with the sick at 51,50 per night; ‘‘do liriumtremcns" double price. A True Sating. —Somebody says, "Ho is a brave man who is not afraid to wear old clothes, until he is able to pay for new.” • I£7* The “closest man” we have heard of re cently, is a fellow who, when he repays borrow ed monoy, w&uls 6 per cent off for cosh I.*- .. SfT How melancholy the moon must feel when it has enjoyed the fullness of prosperity, and got reduced to its last quarter! tCT* The editor of the Cincinnati Commercial says he never drinks brandy except when all the water is required for purposes of naviga tion ! \£7 S ' Good manners is the art of making those people easy with whom we converse. .Whoever makes the fewest persons uneasy, is the .best bred in the company. (O 9 * Somebody says that a pretty woman is a brilliant poem, full of rhyme, sentiment, and all manner of When “bound” in one’s arms, she increases to several volumes. [C7* A woman in Wisconsin, who was lately attacked by a bear in the woods, so abused the poor animal with her tongue, that he died at her feet! r (£7* A correspondent gives ft hint to young ladies who arc troubled with beaux, who sit be yond reasonable hours. Ho advises them to hand the gentleman a boot-jack! I£7* The Lynn News says, if our country should become involved in the. eastern troubles, Mr. Secretary Marcy will bo lust tho man to dis-po/ch lo the “ scat of war. (£7* An impudent fellow asked the question the other day, whether a medicine that was ad vertised as a cure for the heaves was good for sea-sickness? The police ore after him. As Inrsn Notice.— Whereas, Pat O’Connor lately left his lodgings, this Is to give notice, I that if he does not return immediately, and pay for thosamo, ho will bo advertised. [ \SZs" The folio wing notice has been posted on tho doqr of a church in London: “It is partic ularly requested that mustaches be not worn in this church during Divine service.” (£7* “ Tommy, my son, hin to the store and get me some sugar.” “Excuse me, nm, lam somewhat indisposed this morning. Send pa, and tell him to get me a plug of tobacco.” K7* Dn a recent trial,an Irishman, with char acteristic obliquity of speech, ofter scratching his head, said, “Plasoycr honor, I do not re member—or if I do, I forget it now.” A Dunning Letter.—Mr. C.;—Sir—To a void all proceedings unpleasant, I beg you will pay what is due: if you do. you’ll oblige me at present—if you don’t, why then I’ll oblige you! A Good Idea.— ln Memphis, Tenn., tho man w »o gets drunk is not fined, nor confined, but set to work to clean thostrecta for so many days, more or less, according to the grade of his in toxication. £7* Henry Ward Beecher says that the last quarter of an hourofa long drawn and tiresome discourse, gives a rcpulsjvcnesa to religious truth, stronger than can bo dissipated by two good sermons afterwards. C 7" We learn of an ejfchango that theeditor. Mr Hogg, lately led to the altar a Miss Little. Wettmsl that the little Hogs resulting from this union will form a liter- ary family, and find the pen profitable. (£7* Every family ought to have a newspaper —it tfl what they owe to their children, if noth ing else. 1\ ho wishes his children to grow up in ignorance in order to save the price of a news paper ? TT* There arc few men who do not love. One takes to pretty calico, another to bad gin, ano ther to long nines, a fourth to dogs and horses, and bo on. That a man must have something on which to plant hi'S is inevitable? C7—'Mother, don you had the tree of evil in your Why, Josh, yon serpent, what do yodStTOMi?” “Asmo ney’s the root of all evil, if we had the tree, couldn’t we get all the precious stuff!” '" C 7” Sheridan's answer to Lord_ Lauderdale was excellent. On tho latter saying he would repeat some good thing Sheridan had mentioned to him. he said, ‘Pray, don’t, my dear Lauder dale; a joke in your mouth is no laughing mat ter. 1 Shame to Manhood. —To see a deliente wo man rubbing bed clothes over a washboard from morning till night, and a herculean gentleman measuring out rolls of laco and delicate ribbons, would make a Pawnee Indian laugh at our as sumption of chivalry. Kv* A dandy lawyer remarked ono summer day that tho weather was bo excessively hot, that when ho put his head into*A basin of water, it fairly boiled. “ Then, hir,” was tho reply, 5 “you have a calf's head soup at very littleJox pcuac.” An Old Sating. —An old writer, says .that when cannons were introduced as negotiators, the canons of the church were useless —that tho world was governed first by-wi7j*um. and then by nifrum—first by St. Peter and then* by Salt Potro. Important Occupation’.— “Boy.” saida fa shionable dressed man to tho servant of one of his companions, “ is your master nt home?’’- “Yes, sir,’’replied tho boy. “butjio is confined to his room, lie’s a growln’ of mooatrashes; and aiut allowed to see nobody bn t his hairdresser.” One of tho best illustrations of avarice wo over heard of, is that contained in an old carac aturo,' which represents Old 1 , Nick carrying an old miser down to his regions, and on Iho way, wipply him ak, uf p^J p< ! mt * ona to majesty to
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers