American volunteer. (Carlisle [Pa.]) 1814-1909, April 12, 1855, Image 1

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    ASpEICAN VOLUNTEER.
<■ ■ 'ftffatantti TinrhsuAT’ v’onfiiiitj
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paid with!n:tho year. Thoflo torms will bo rig
fdlf.Whetod'tbia'e+dry instance. Nosubscrip-
Mba dlicootlbned until all arrearages are paid
nbloM dt the : optloh of tho Editor.
by tho cash,
and met exoeeding ono square, will bo Inserted
tferso'times for ono Dollar, and twenty-fivo cents
forsabb additional insertion. Those of a groat.
be Ungtb in proportion; .
JoB-PaDtriHo—Such as Hand-bills, Posting,
bills, Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, &c., &c., cze.
entsd with acoarary and oVtho shortest notice.
faetiral.
BUM BO? AT PLAY.
or ELIZA COOK.
, Tho blind boy's been at piny, mother,
; . And merry games wo had;
Wo led him on our way,, mother,
And every stop was glad.
Out when wo found a starry -flower.
And praised Its varied hue,
A tqar came trembling down his cheek,
Just like a drop of dew.'
Wo took him to tho mill, mother,
, Where falling waters made
A rainbow'o'er tho rill, mother,
j. As golden sun-rays played ,*
. But - when we shouted at tho sccno,
And hailed tho clear blue sky,
-llq stood:quite still upon the bank.
And.breathed a long, long sigh.
Wo naked him why ho wept, mother,
Whcno’r no found tho spots
Whbro periwinkle crept, mother,
O’er wild forget*hie-nota}
*Ah mb I* he said, while tears ran down
As fast as summer showers,
tty-hTbocanso £ cannot sco
Tho sunshine and the flowers.’
Oh I fliat poor sightless boy, mother,
Has taught mo 1 am blessed,
For I can look with Joy, mother,
On all 1 love tho best;
And when I see the dancing stream,
And daisies rod and white,
I kneel upon the medow sod,
And thank my God for sight.
BISTE SOT-BEST SOT.
Without haste! without rest!
Bind the motto to thy broat!
Bear it with thee as a spelt,
iSUrm or sunshine, guard it well,
Meed not flowers that round tbco bloom,
Bear it onward to the tomb !
Haste not—let no thoughtless deed
Mar tor o’er the spirit spued;
Ponder well and know the right,
Oaward thou with alt thy might!
Haste not—years can ne’er atone
For one reckless action done.
Rest not—life is sweeping by,
Do and dare before you die 5
Something mighty and sublime
Leave behind to conquer lime.
Glorious *tis to leave for nyo,
When those forms have passed away
Haite not / licit not! calmly wait,
Meekly bear the storms of fate.
Duty be thy polar guide—
Do the right whate’er betide!
Haste not- rest not—conflicts past,
God shall crown thy work at last..
Ctiow Calf
DUBLIN G
A STORY OF NEW YORK.
DI MATHEW a. FIELD.
enUTBR I
Not long after the last war with England, an
unpleasant occurrence .look place one evening
in the theatre in New York. Charles Percy- a
young American, with his betroUud bride.
Cornelia Neville, and Stephen Percy, his elder
brother, sat in one of the curtained boxes near
the stage, being attracted by the name of a
new star from England in Rhakspearo'a lovely
creation of ‘Rosalind* ’ British olilccrs were
■ st.ll lounging about the city, on their way ei
ther to or from Canada, or waiting to complete
arrangements for departure by sea to England
and they haunted the public places with nn os
lentat aua display of proud bearing, seeking,
in this unworthy way, to wound tho vanity of
‘ t' 0 : e they could not conquer in any nobler con •
'm tention. The hnutv and insolent spirit that
-•* had marked the conduct of these officers during
.-Tjk, ail Ihdr in crcourse with tho Americans, was
about this t|me betrayed more unreservedly
than ever, and their bitter chagrin at the re
suit of the war manifested itself in petty at
.vSlvvJtfmpts at annoyance in every way they could
n -&rl yiSc It to their successful oppo-
They were disappointed at tho tenni.
'■W C*jjlJtonof their residence abroad, vexed at the
L ; : of the Americana, enraged at the fall
•v ■ Bjjjtlory of Brittania ujK»n the Inch seas, and
Mfwrod with a gnawing and restless spleen,
tut ‘rendered their actions everything the oppo-
amiable. The haughty bearing toward
Anjericans, fostered during tho war as much
bjf’despotic policy as domineering inclination.
VM a thing too deeply rooted to bo Suddenly
R&fainorphoscd into more gentle behavior, even
ttjfsd important a change in relative position
orf bad then taken place between them and their
Ittafocs. In short, they were reckless and
Without curb; the younger ofliccrs, especially.
WL giving full reign to their volalilo humor, and
often plunging headlong into actions that, in
tiriser moments, they themselves regretted.
” Cornelia Neville had been long an enthusinti
ilc admirer of ShuUspenre, though only now
her acquaintance with stage rep
. Her favorite, the brilliant come
fou Like It,', no full of immortal
as well as elegant wit, graceful
as well as harmonious embodiment
was the play of the evening: and
i girl, with rapt enjoyment, laved I
led among, tho musical ripples of
' dark eyu bent its light, through a
ir, that she never bought to dash
> tho wanderer Orlando, and his
tdara; while tho next moment her
»H gushed out at tho drollery of
or her eloquent exclamations were I
sympathetic comment upon tho
roua sadness’ of Jaquea. Just af-!
observation among themselves,,
P art y into unrestrained
, '! l . aa .N.ville j oingd with a
tatmam or hcr C (v!i? lt v from tl '°B'ntrous at
(h W r 6 “ tu P°n tho Hudson.
th ' ll,cr y of tho King, lean.
l' CXI 5° x ;, drcw * B 'do tlie dra
at tho the lady
flifljßmllo, without turning her eyes was
oSSsbojof tho rack. action, and wfth’th“
*W»W t*»t which is an amiahlo rcdncincnt of
no token of her knowledge. Sho
kntwfcnmtho Mery, temper of-tho two brothers
and Unowned she could prevent their olwerva
uonoTwhat. if seen by them, would inevita
bly produce Rome Rnions comwqmmoes. She
attention 1 inslanily to the stage and
laujthea anew with hcariler freedom than ever,
raid Hte’oH jocose remarks upon costume, ges-
else caught her eye, with a
Viyifflyyf nlfpiant as it was Irresislablc. The
into the box for many moments:
the drapery full, and retiring,
MjOwtKarillo thought, without having been
««n br tho Percy’s. Poor girl! she never
ditttsal that Charles Percy was going thro'
itmenran.
BY JOHN B. BRATTON.
VOL 41.
with M excellent a piece of noting as she had
herself performed. It is true she succeeded in
keeping tho attention of Stephen melted bn
the passing scene, and apparently the mind of
Charles, also ; hut the quick eye of the lover
had seen all. While no clouding of the sun shine
upon his brow bctra3 r ed the burning indigna
tion suddenly alive within his heart.
‘Beautiful 1 beautiful! 1 said Charles Percy
•O, how the transcendent eloquence of that pas
sage, Cornelia, triumphs oven over the tame
and soulless manner of the actor! Tho dolt I
Ho boa been dropping gems from his tongue,
and docs not know it.
‘Tongues In trees, books in the running brooks.
Sermons in stones, and good in everything.*
How touching and bow true the thought!
how glowing and natural the form of expres
sion ! how euphonious the lines I continued
Charles, after repeating them ; ‘and yet bow
inconceivably vapid and dull is tho actor who
stands before us. the mouth-piece of such mu
sic of the brain!'
•In just such tones you may bear a thread
and-needle merchant counting up his charges,’
replied tho laughing girl; “tape, two-and-six
pence: sowing silk, one shilling: satin, five
shillingsneedles, twopence; just six-and
cight-pence. madam."
Charles laughed again, seemingly in tho
lightest mood in the world, and quite innocent
of the knowledge that anything had taken
place, till after trifling in a gay way a little
longer, he suddenly seemed to discover some
thing of interest to him in the lobby opposite.
At this moment a boisterous merriment was
beared in the box near them. A burning
crimson flashed and passed rapidly over tho
face of Charles Percy.
‘Stephen, is not that Harry* Txmgworth.
standing near that lobby door to tho right?’
asked Charles ofhis brother.
*Um ? which? 0,1 see.
replied Stephen.
Yes, that’s Harry,'
‘lf Miss Neville will excuse me. I have a
communication of some importance to make to
him. 1 said Charles, with a calm smile upon his
handsome face
‘Will you oblige us by going ?’ said Stephen
Percy: *f have a communication myself to
make to this fair Indv.*
'Pray. go. sir/ said the lady, with mocking
ontrrntv.
‘Go ” repented Stephen : allow me to solicit
you in the imperative mood to get out!’ and
raising from his scat, he pushed his brother
out of the box. “Go on, Mr. •Jaques,’ said he
sotn roen. ns he resumed his Rent.
Charles Percy hurried around tho lobby to
his friend. ‘Lentworth. come with me !’ ex* 1
claimed Charles, in an emphatic whisper,
snatching the gen’lenmn he addegsed by the
arm. and hurrying him toward the box where
tho rude strangTs wore.
A moment more, and the two young Ameri
cans stood in the box alluded to. in tho pres
ence of five officers in British uniform, who re
matni-d seated. Charles Percy having calmly
closed the door behind him.
‘A piece of nngcntlcumnly rudeness has been
rommitted in this box.’ Raid Percy, in firm and
impressive accents. ‘The lady in tho next box
is one to whom I. have the honor of standing in
the relation of protector, and— 1
‘Pon my soul, my dear fallow, I envy you !’
said one of the officers. ••
•You cannot trifle with me sir!’ returned
Percy, quickly, but still calmly, though a
dangerous light shot from his evens he spoke.
•Can’t snv wo know you, Mister ! ’ drawled
another of the officers.
‘You *ha(t know me, sir!’ replied Percy.—
‘Gentleman. 1 continued ho. ‘for T hold you, as
officers of the English army, entitled to be so
considered. I ask to be informed who drew tho
curtains from that box. and impudently stared
for some moments at a lady with whom he is
unacquainted ?’
At this, one of the officers who had not bo
forespohen. rose to his feet, exhibiting, in the
action, evident indications of excessive convi
viality. ‘Sir,' said he. ‘you may do me the
honor to address yourself to me. 1
•Then, sir, as my presence cannot bo over
agreeable here, and os your conduct has com
pelled me to leave pleasanter society, you may
state, as briefly as you please, exactly what
you meant by that demeanor to which, you
must understand, I take most posilive excep
tion. '
Another officer hero rose, end seemed about
to commence some violent out-break, when lie
who had avowed himself as the offender, laid
his hand stonily on his friend's shoulder, and
declared, in a thick voice, that it was hia af
fair- ‘Sir,’ said he to Percy, with all the ab
surd dignity of a lipsyman. ‘you arc, if I am
not mistaken, a .' lie was very near
saying rrbrl, but stammered an instant, and
finished tho interrogatory with—‘on Ameri
can?’
‘Long live the Union, and God bless my
country !’ said Chailcs Percy, with an enthu
siasm of tone that he scorned to icatram.
‘Well, sir, I must allow that you yet bear
very strong similitude to a gentleman. As
you intimate that you are in a hurry, and as
we can most unanimously grant you leave of
absence, I suppose you desire my card?’
‘That, or an unequivocal apology, sir-'
‘The first is the most convenient, Mister A*
mcrlcnn.' said the officer, handing his card
which Percy immediately look, putting Ids
own into tho Englishman’s hand at the same
moment- ‘Good night!’ said the British offi
cer.
Percy and Longworlh bowed and left the
box.
CHAPTER If.
Tho nuptials of Charles Percy and Cornelia
Neville had been agreed upon with great joy,
not only by the destined bride and groom, but
by their two families, and their whole circle of
relations and friends. The approaching union
of the young couple seemed to present a broad
and manifest contradiction of the old poet's as*
scrlion, that 'the course of true love never did
run sinoothc,' for never did two hearts twine
more fondly and firmly around each other, and
never did the world seem more flrco from any
obstacles to tho happiness that true lore sigh*
cd for. Alas! how blind arc we to tho stu
pendous changes tho turning of an hour glass
may weave in tho frail tissues of our destiny !
Wonderful as tho mechanism of the eye, deli
cate as the fabrication of beautiful spots upon
tho wing of a butterfly, is tho microscopic mul
titude of undreamed of events that move the
hearts of men and the destinies of nations in
tho quick passing of a single moment!
Tho morning after .the incident at tho thea
tre, related in our first chapter, Charles Percy
was called upon by Col. Stanford, a young ofii
cer in Ilia Majesty's service,whose family rank
at home n»»d high reputation in the nrmy went
jaud m hand to confer upon him honor. lie
as accompanied by two friends, two of those
h<. mni’V* V l . t / , ° k° x tho evening before, and
dim n . Is J , l hochallcngo sent to him
lldit nr"'?® by l ‘ n 6 Percy. In the frank
in ™ Ko,tl . cr ' n,)(J «ilh the graceful
cSlcnKiff 1 ° mo “’ Col addressed his
withmn l ?" Gentlemen who ,vero
"L" "'JJ' ,I ' cot >° I«st evening, accompany
me now. The olhor two could not convenient-
“ODE CODNTET—rMAY IT ALWAYS BE BIGHT —BUT EIGHT OB WRONG, OUB COUNTRY.”
ly attend roc, or I would have rejoiced that
you should see them here also, to hear mo roost
sincerely declare my regret for the occurrence
of last evening. I will not ask you to spare
me the humiliating.confession that imprudence
had rendered me for a time forgetful of respect
for .myself and others.for a man’s shame should
be in committing on error, and not in its ac
knowledgement. I behaved uncortcously, sir,
to the annoyance of a lady and yourself.—
Through you, permit me to solicit from that
Iddy her gentle pardon, anddetmo entreat you.
sir, to accord me henceforth what I so idly for
feited ina foolish moment, the estimation of a
gentleman. 1
The sunlight of & noble soul rose and spread
like the lovlicst hue of morning over the clas
sic brow of Charles Percy: quick in forgive
ness ns in anj??r, he stepped forward,extending
bis hand to Stanford.
And did the cloud here vanish from the ethe
real blue, which threatened to lower so darkly
over the long holiday life that rosy Love seem
ed preparing for Charles and Cornelia? Wes
such the lofty spirit actuating British officers
:in revolutionary times? Alas! the cloud did
i but fade away thinly, to gather again with
lightning in its breast of darkness, and hurl
more fatally its bolt of wild destruction. One
superior soul will most often cast glory upon ,
others of meaner mould around, than those ’
others will honorably emulate tho excellence
that lights them into notice. The story will (
show.
*A moment, sir, before you give your hand,*
said Col. Stanford. ‘lt may matter little, but
I feel a desire to bo open as the day with you,
and therefore am impelled to explain, that my
brother officers do not sanction the course that,
in opposition to their sentiments, I have adop
ted in this affair. Two of them, in fact, have
refused to be present here at all, and the gen
tlemen with me attended reluctantly at my re
quest. You will believe, sir, that nothing but
an immoveable conviction of justice and pro
priety in what I do, could induce me to act so
directly against tho wishes of my companions
in arms-’
•Col. Stanford,’ said Percy, *1 have no quar
rel and I seek none with your friends. Your
brave and honorable conduct has made me ra
ther a petitioner for regard than a seeker after
redress, and I can rejoice more in taking your
hand, as a friend than your life an nn offender.
Furthermore, sir. let me avow that in soliciting
a deadly meeting with you. I yielded only to
the exaction of a custom which in heart and
reason T can never acknowledge.’
The hand of tho voung American was seized
hy the young English officer, and the pledge of
friendship was exchanged with equal warmth ;
soon alter which the interview terminated :
Stanford departing with his two friends, who
liowed siiflly to Percy os they left, without
having uttered a syllable.
Six montits had ncarlv rolled away, and the
appointed bridal day of Percy and Miss Ne
ville was approaching, when one day a loiter,
post-marked ‘Montreal. 1 and directed to
‘Charles Percy,’ was put into his hands. It
was from Stanford-demanding, entreating,
imploring, that the fatal meeting they once
avoided should now (ako place! Let those
who can, imagine the wonder, horror; and con
s' ernation of Charles Percy! Stanford wrote
(hat he was preparing •to follow his letter in
stantly to Now York.. His life had been wretch
ed, lie said: ho had been slighted, cut. con
temptuously treated by his brother officers:
society shunned him like a thing of disease.—
A brand was upon him: tho Anger of scorn
pointed after him. and tho shallow foplings of
the day stared through their eye-glasses at the
officer who had disgraced the British uniform,
and Itascly apolopized to an American! a mis
erable Yankee rebel! Even his family in En
gland had, in correspondence, betrayed too
plainly, what in pity those once kind ones en
deavored awkwardly to conceal, their cruel and
hlood-frcczing estrangement. Stanford wrote
in phrenzy. Explanation or argument with
his sneering persecutors was in vain, for they
would either not listen to him.or hear him with
n cold look and no reply, lie - confessed that
ho trembled for his sanity, yet half felt the
loss of reason would be relief from present hor
ror of mirid. Growing wilder, ho owned that
all his miseries clamored now around one haun
ting idea; ho had lost friends, country, home,
regard, affection: he was despised. Spurned,
down-trodden, a solitary wretch, who could
nol raise Ins eyes without meeting contempt
from the proud, and more degrading pitv from
tho mean; and tho young New-Yorker, Charles
Percy,was the cause.
Col. Stanford had left New Yor.k the day af
ter his noble reconciliation with Percy, and bad
remained in Canaan the whole of this intermin.
Three days after his letter had been received,
he arrived himself in New York, and instantly
despatched a cold and formal challenge to the
man for whom his heart yearned, and whom
society sentenced him to hunt into tho grave as
his bitterest enemy 1 Percy received tho hos
tile message, and went at once to see his chal
lenger in person. He thought the calm influ
ence of humanity and reason, and the teaching
of a higher philosophy, might bo brought to
bear upon the excited mind of poor Stanford :
but bis generous attempt was fruitless. Stan
ford would not see him. lie wrote to the un
happy officer; his letter came back unopened.
Every conceivable method was tried by Percy
to change the aspect of this extraordinary po
sition into which Stanford had forced him, am-
finding everything else fail, he at length
flatly refused the challenge. It was soon clear
(hat this would not avert the danger; for Stan
ford threatened desperate vengeance. In some
way, if ho was not mot in the manner desired,
swearing that, os life was only agony to him
without U, his life should be ‘devoted to the
achievement of this only object: and he would
fiprsuo Percy, unceasingly, until the opposi
ion of their persona. lq fair .conflict, warrant
ed. .
So .persecuted. Charles Percy, at length,.re--
luctcntly and with a Jicnvy heart, consented to
yield the unhappy man his wish: and they met
one morning accompanied by their seconds,
among the vtflcelcds and then seldom trodden
solitudes of * Hoboken. It \vafl tho first time
Percy had seen Stanford since their reconcilia
tion. -Heavens! what < a change! His- fine
form had dwindled to a skeleton: his checks
had fallen in, and his eyes glared wildly, and
with singular lusture from their deep soeketß.
With a sick sensation at the heart, Percy saw
at a glance that such a man was no longer to
be moved by words of expostulation. Onco
only, catching, tho stern and strange gaze of
Stanford upon him,he advanced a step, making
an imploring gesture; hut tho half-crazed
British officer smiled as ho turned aw ay, and
the sport of a triumphant devil was in his
smile.
Beneath the serenity of early day. the usual
t reparations for human slaughter in an honora
lo way. acccording to thc.nowrst refinements
of the fashion, werit on t niid Percy took his
position mechanically, with his melancholy cyo
ilied tipon Stnhfbrd.nll in sorrow ond pity,and
w|th-a ; fltiadeftly-rprmed presentiment of evil
sinking deeply and, heavily in his heart. It
would seem that hohftd nbver wholly given up
tho hope of some mild termination lo this moat t
unhappy affair, until ho met Stanford on the
ground, marked thotorrible ravages of mental j
CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, APRIL 12,1855
anguish, and saw the freezing character of the
unnatural smile. He had still refused and de
layed the meeting AmUi* the very day before that
appointed for his innrriage, when reflection in
regard to Stanford came upon him more seri
ously than ever; and he flew from racking
thoughts to the hasty resolution of accepting
at onco thb challenge, that an end might be
put in any* way to so dreadful a dilemma, rath
er than carry with him. the .serpent of bitter
anxiety into the paradise of Cornelia's arms.
The preliminaries ‘bring arranged, the sec
onds stepped aside, and the usual words were
spoken; Percy never' raised his weapon, but I
stood mutely with that same sorrowful, and,as
it proved, prophetic gaze fixed upon the ghastly
face of his transformed friend, until a dozen
echoes answered the report of a pistol ; and ho
fell with the ice-bolt of denih in his heart, to bo
earned home on bis bridal day a corpse!
Shall wo paint hero the shrieking Cornelia,
in her. summer wreaths and wedding robes ?
No. We will only pause fo mention the terri
ble oath of Stephen Percy. He had heard that
Stanford was driven to this unjust and desper
ate act chiefly by the violent urgingof one man in
Canada: an officer who,,with relentless cruel
ty, insisted upon the blood of young Percy.
Stephen knelt by his brother’s corpse, sol
emnly forgave the madman Stanford.and stem- 1
ly swore if over ho met this other officer,to ren
der him up a bleeding sacrifice upon the grave 1
of Charles.
Poor Stanford ! Percy diet without a groan:
but oh ! how wild and desolate the fate loft for
his demented nuirde or.
Let us hurry over eighteen moulhs.and learn
the startling sequel of this story.
C ONC I'D SI OS
. “Percy, I’m sorry you’re come,” cxcla : mcd
Lester Depeystcr, a wealthy 6o;» vuanl, taSte- 1
phen Percy, as the latter entered one evening!
the principal apartment of a hotel in ancient
Gotham. It was late in the evening, and De
peystor sat at the head of a dimng-tahle. upon
which now appeared only decanters and bottles
of wine, glasseg, and such accompaniments as
are usually left with guests disposed for a long
silting after dinner, ft had been a birthday
or some other festival, with Lester Depeystcr.
and the dinner had been of his giving. A num
her of his congenial friends had been invited,
and Stephen Percy was among them. Other
engagements had prevented the attendance of
Percy in time for dinner, and he but sought
the hotel in the evening to tender congratula
tions to his Companion from boyhood, on the
happiness of the occasion, and in glass Of gen
crous wine, invoked a long continuance of
friendship,.prosperity, and enjoyment. Some
of the guests bad already taken their departure,
while some of those remaining began to give
warm evidence of having done full honor to the
, hospitality of tho host. Several young men
were disputing loudly and earnestly at the low
er end of the table, with one who was arguing
and maintaining his point alone with great de
termination. Tho hour of ceremony was past,
and Percy, without engaging much attention,
passed in with a general bow to tho company
to a seal beside Depeystcr.
• 'You arc sorryTTn comc-I*-said'Stephen in
a tone expressing at once astonishment and in
quiry; ‘did I misunderstand you V
‘No, noreplied Depeystcr, 'that's what I
said: lam very sorry you're come: but no
matter: you ’re hero now. Como, let me fill
for you.’
•The wine will hardly taste well without an
explanation of that,’said Percy, in a marked
and deliberate manner.
‘Not now, not now, 1 returned Dipcyster:
•but como : it is perhaps no rnn’tr; now I
cannot explain ; any other time I will. Steph
en Percy, here's ‘Privateers and Merchantmen
in the Battery-hollo.v !’ When you and I oan\
drink that together, let us never more shake
hands.’
An enthusiastic smile broke out instantly on
the faces of the two friends, and'their hands
Joined in u strong grasp ns they tossed oil' the
wine.
The circular “hollow,” about three fact deep,
and some two hundred yards in circumference,
then, and until some fifteen or twenty years
since, occupying one section of the Battery, was
a famous piny-ground of the boys of New York.
Many a young heart ached, and many an old
one sighed, when the wise worthies of Gotham,
those potent, grave, reverend and turtle-led gen
tlemen of the City Hall, sent a detachment of
town-carts to haul brick-bats and building-nib.
bisb, saw-dust and oyster-shells, tund monu
ments erected to oblivious street inspectors, and
all the other vile superfluities of the streets, and
to “dump" them into that beautiful green hol
low, It was an agrarian measure, alike hateful
to rich and poor among (he Juveniles. Nor was
the risen generation much opposed to them in
sentiment, for trial same sporting-ground nffho
boys had been the courting promenade of their
lathers and mothers, and every association of
early mirth and dawning love, made the spot
sacred to n/Toction with young and old. Thu
city legislators of that period may shake In their
shoos oven now, when (hoy learn that there was
a desperate conspiracy on foot, and hold-spirit
ed delegates with “shining morning faces,” ac
tually wont (Vom school to school agitating a
genera) hisuncctiun of the boys, to duck the
aldermen in the Collect for tilling up the hollow
In the Battery I Had there been such a facility
as a fountain in the Park then, Iherq would have
been a christening of the Common Council to a
certainty.} and posterity would have been left In
possession of one original reason for aldermen
being so proverbially hollow headed.
It was to ibis delightful play-ground which
Depoyaler alluded In his (oast, calling to Per
cy’s memory also a popular game In which (hey
had often participated together, and perhaps
not yet forgotten In Now York, known under
tbo cogoomlnalion of •< Privateers and Merch
antmen.”
An hour paused away rapidly and merrily, as
hours generally do when old Wends pot togeth
er under such circumstances ( and tho disput
ants at tho -other end of tho table, who'had been
less noisy fora time, again grow heated| tho
one who was most prominent before, now speak
ing with open anger and violence.
“TVho U that ?" Inquired Stephen Percy of
Depoyator.
■« Ho was on officer In tho British army,” re
plied the host} « fl long time stationed In Cana
da, and just now arrived hero on a visit to this
city olono,having resigned his commission. He
Is a bravs follow and generous hearted too, but
Quixotic and wild In sentiment. Ho lias been
at loggerheads with our young countrymen
there, over since ho sat down, and I fear It will
end in a serious quarrel yet. 11
These words wore hardly more than uttered,
when tho gentleman spoken of, raising his voice
still higher, said ti one seated opposite :
u Sir, you novepwas more mistaken In your
life, for I toll you, wommodore Rodgtn u empha
i filially n '
[ Stephen Percy hcnl forward and darted a
piercing glanco at/tho speakers (hen slowly
emptied hla glass/aml while Dcpeyafer was
turning to converse with another, ho touched a
waiter on tho shon|dor and hit the room. Tho
waiter followed lilfn.
“Take,this car'd to that gentleman who Is
speaking loud, and say that I doalro a single
moment’s conversation with him.” said Percy,
ond the waiter returned lute tho dining-room.
«Commodore Ilodgors Is my friend, air,”
said Stephen Percy, as tho person ho sont for
appearod{ *< ho is now'absent at sea. Without
iftiiic
ill-wilt, sir, and addressing you na a gentleman,
, I moat request you to return before the com
pany, and retract the osscrtlon you have Just
■ made.”
“ A very modest request, air,** said tfie stran
ger, ivith a provoking smile; “ and should Ibe
so unreasonable as to refuse, perhaps you will
challenge me V*
“ You shall neither insult my friend, air, nor
laugh at me,** said Percy, sternly.
“ Yea,” said the stranger, taking it from his
pocket,* “your name is Percy, I see,* Percy Is
a good name j and you soem to be of the Hot
spur family, too. You want to quarrel 7”
“ I wont and will Lave justice done to a brave
and honorable man, sir, and am ready to lose
my own life rather than suffer any slanderous
tongue to take from him one particle of his
glorious reputation. assertion yon made
was
“Thcro, flint’!! do; !t can all be very hand
somely arranged without any useless expendi
ture of epithet, worthy sir. Allow me to ask
you, do you rise early
“Iff do not, air, I can chango a custom to
snlt occasion.”
“Then I think wo can agree; and without
making any nolso about the matter; you Just
bring a friend and meet me somewhere quietly,
as soon after day-break ns you please, to-mor
row morning.’*
“I’ll accommodate you, sir,” said Percy;
“ and your humor jumps very well with my own.
I’ll have a boat ready, and wo will take a sail
or a row to Governor’s Island.’*
“Sir, I honor you for tho suggestion. I’m
told a morning trip to that lovely spot is truly
ohchating. Now, nevermind exchanging cards,
but lot us go back, arm In arm, If you’ll allow
mo { and we must take wine together, just for
the sport of throwing these gaping young coun
trymen of yours off the scent of what’s In tho
wind.”
And in this manner tho two engaged duelists
returned to tho dining table, apparently upon
the pleasantest forms that could spring from tho
natural contact ol genial dispositions.
Tho next morning a light boat, with a single
sail swelling roundly to a Juno breeze, swept
out from tho Battery-bench, over the sportive
whltccaps of the bay towards Governor’s Island.
Two men guided tho little vessel, while four
others, of more refined appearance, with their
foreheads bared to the refreshing air fVom tho
ocean, sal in easy conversation, their minds ir
resistibly attuned to composure by tho mellow
beauty of such a morning before sunrise.
“ A lovely, a very lovely bay f” said tho young
stranger, whose name yet remained untold, as It
was unasked. “Mr. Percy. I have looked with
delight upon tho bays of Naples and of Dublin,
and wuro I an American, I would swear this of
New York is the most beautiful bay In the
world. I will not deny, sir. that it may bo early
associations, together with the other enchant
ments of country and home, (so seldom analyzed
while wo are so happy in them without exami
nation,) which cause me to love the shores and
waves of Dublin bay better than any other wave*
and shores In tho world; for, sir, lam an Irish
man 5 but were I born here on your Indian Is
land of Mannahattnn, I would not change It for
any other spot In Christendom.”
Tho volatile young Irishman, actually in de
fiance of the solemn business before him, broke
into a song, and the eloquent words of " Erin
go Bragh,” were given to the breeze that went
sweeping by. i
Stephen Percy was a ntfln of iron nerve and
deadly skill with the pistol ,* nftda strange sen
sation of weakness stole info hfs Hod heart, as
ho listened to this extraordinary exposition of
sentiment and cool recklessness la the. game
breath. It was nothing akin to fear, which
struck him, but rather a sadness, a regret for
the act ho was about to engage in, as ho listen
ed to his opponent’s singing :
“Buried and cold, when my heart stills its
motion.
Green bo thy fields, sweetest Isle of tho
ocean,
And thy harp-striking bards sing aloud with
devotion,
Erin mo roumeen, Erin go bmgh !”
They were soon on the island, and a few mo
menta .sufficed them for preliminaries. The
word was given : they ft red ; and the ball of
Stephen Percy dashed through the forehead of
his adversary, who fell dead without a groan.
All had been secret, so little was to be gain
ed. so much difficulty to be feared from expo
sure, that the seconds agreed to convey the
body to the city and have it interred privately,
which was done, and the unhappy fate of that
ill-directed young enthusiast was probably
never known to his friends.
Not long after, Percy happening in company
with his friend Lester Depeyster. said thought
lessly, 'Lester, why did yon say that evening
I took wine with vou and your friends, that
you wore “sorry I had come ?" You promised
to explain.'
‘I will, F will ;* replied Depeyster. ‘You re
member that flrcry young fellow f-otrt Canada,
who was so noisy at the table ? A Strange
character : very impetuous and violent ? By
the way, I have not seen him since, and nobody
knows what has become of him-’
*T remember,' said Percy.
•Well, the moment before yon entered the
room, he had been boasting that it was himself
who had awakened excitement against that
001. Stanford in CamCda.and his threats.sneers
and arguments had driven that officer at length,
back to Now York to shoot your brother
Charles.’
‘Heaven and earth! how strange!’ mentally
ejaculated .Stephen Percy.
It remaimtJSrdy to be added, that the unfor
lunntc Stanford, having returned to Canada
with reason shattered forever, and being trans
ferred by his by his relatives to a lunatic asy
lum in England, ho there died about the same
time that the young Irishman was shot on Gov
ernor’s Island.
There was a kind old maiden Indy buried a
very abort time since In a New York church
yard ; and there now rcnoscs the dust of one
named In, this etory. twCornclla Neville.
An JJditoiv’s ExPEnißKon.—Qco. D. Pren
tice, of tho Journal, was recently
honored with a public dinner at Memphis, fn
response to a complimentary toast, ho made a
very neat speech, of which the following is an
extract:
"I have written some bitter things of men
who have since passed away from the earth.and
whoso memories I rcrcrc, ond on whoso graves
I could shed tears of sorrow and regret. Ah 2
when 1 look back through (ho twenty-six years
of my editorial life, and think how many I
onoo denounced who afterwards became my
personal friends, qr proved themselves their
country's friends, and how many lonceeulo-
Sited and toiled for who have since turned
icir hands ruthlessly and causelessly against
mo—when I relied how tho most arduous and
devoted services arc forgotten by those to
whom they are rendered, and how often tho
deepest political injuries are magnanimously
forgiven by those to whom they arc done—and
when I remember how many ol my political
friends have striven to crush mo,and how many
Democrats have gathered around mo os a band
of brothers in tho days of my personal peril—l
should bo guilty of an outrage on my own con*
science, and on every feeling and impulse of my
heart, if I were not to weed out from my na
ture the partisan bitterness that ouco flourish
ed there. 1 ’
- w
KNOW-NOTHING CORRESPONDENCE.
Editors Empire :—Enclosed yon will find a
correspondence between Council No. 42, of K.
N’s. and myself, in the form of charges prefer
red against me, and my reply, which you will
do me the favor "to publish, t request this
from the fact that members of the order have
reported amongst outsiders that I have been ex
celled ; who, not knowing tbo reasons, may
attribute it to causes that do apt exist; then*
fore I think in justice to myself the whole mat
ter should be laid before the public, that they
mar judge of the facts for themselves.
That faro now an outsider, I think there
can bo but little doubt.
Dayton March 2nd, 1855,
Doctor J. A. Walters
Dear sir
you arc requested
to meet at the Dayton Council hall. No. 42. to
answer to charges conferred against you, on
Monday evening March slh 55 at 7 O’clock
P. M.
as follows, Charge, Ist.
for having sent spurious
tickets into the Country
specification
for having creisvd the Name of Samuel C. Em
ley and insirling the name of Jonathan Kinney
with the intention of dcccving tho members of
this order
of violating his obligation in Elec
tioneering against the ticket nominated by this
order
specification
Pursuading a member of this order to vote for
S. G. Coin who is not a member of this order
saying it would be no violation of his Obliga
gation that if it would their would bo thou
sands that would violate them that he would
not give a Dam for the whole consent that it
was nothing but a Whig snake.
Charge third
Conspiring with W. C. Troumbour
and others against this order.
D. Carroll, Secretary
Dattom, March sth. 1855.
To the President and members of the Dayton
Council No. 42 :
Gentlemen Yours of the 22d inst., se
cured by a green wafer, citing roe to appear
before your distinguished body and answer cer
tain charges there prefered against mo, was re
ceived. Business, and other engagements of
more consequence, render it impossible for me
to appear at this lime ; and as principles found
ed upon the immutable laws of right and jus
tice, may prevent me from appearing before
you'at any time in future, I have thought prop
er, in justice to myself, as well as you, to lay
before you a written communication, embody
ing a reply to tho charges, as well as my posit
ion in regard to the order ; and there rest the
matter for your action.
You charge Ist, That “I erased tho name of
S. C. Emley and Inserted that of Jonathan Ken
ney, with a view to deceive the order.” That
f made tho alteration Is true, but that I did it
to deceive, is false.
You charge 2d, That I •‘persuaded a member
of the order to vote for S. G. Cain, who is not a
member, sayingit would not bo a violation of
hisobligation.’ A number of Democrats, of
the order, expressed to mo a desire to role for
certain persons on tho Democratic ticket, pro*
tided the/ could do so without violating their
obligation. I told them, I believe invariably,
that they were bound by that oath or obliga
tion no further than it was supported by the
Constitution of the United States, and that of
the State of Ohio ; and further, that thev could
vote for any person out of tho order, if they be
lieved his election would subserve the Ameri
can interest more than that of the candidate of
the order. For the correctness of this opinion,
I refer you to the obligation itself.
! As regards the closing part of the 2d charge,
that I had said, that I “considered tho whole
concern a Whig snake.” I might have said so.
but I consider such language entirely too mild
to fully express the identity of tho fact.
You charge 3d, That I “had conspired with
W. C. Troumbour and others against the or
der,” which charge is false. I conspired with
no one; whatever I have said for or against,
has been said openly. That I have said but
little for the order. I most readily acknowledge
—to have acted otherwise would have been do
ing violence to ray conscience—something I val
ue «nuch more highly than secret political mid
night conspiracies against conscience and liber
ty •
Gentlemen, when I first joined your order. I
supposed the object of the association was in
tended merely as a temporary expedient to
check tho dishonorable means frequently re
sorted to, on the part of politicians to obtain
foreign voles ; but how sadly have I been dc
cicved. This question of Know-Nolhlngism
and its principles, ns they nro being developed
from day to day, involves more of the future
welfare and liberty of this country, than many I
of you generally suppose. Tito framers of our
govcnncnl were men who had bitterly experi
enced the great tyranny and injustice of other
governments—-had studied well those funda
mental principles of human right and equality
so necessary to happiness, and were pre-emi
nently prepared to institute a government free
from civil and religious Intolerance —a govern-1
ment that should receive thonpplauscofall just 1
men and become a burning light of liberty to
the world—a government the justice of whose
principles should make iho very thrones of Eu
rope tremble, and “become tho fond hope of the
oppressed of every clime.” How have they
succeeded 7 The annals of ancient and modern
history present no account of any government
rising in power, numbers and influence Hkc
I this. Our institutions giving greater freedom
I and security to its people than that of any oth
er, attracted (ho attention, confidence and sym
pathy of the democratic masses of other coun
tries, who sought our shores by thousands,
periling life and fortune, that they might es
cape tyranny and oppression, and enjoy civil
and religious liberty. We extended to them a
hcarly wclcomc —gave them (be same privileges
wq enjoyed—mode (hem our friends, and they
have proved true to our wisdom and generosi
ty, by dcfcnding'our institutions, shoulder to
shoulder with the American born citizen upon
every battle-field, from tho Revolution to tho
present time, and never an Arnold was found
amongst them.
Shall wo now labor to check this mighty cur
rent of liberty and prosperity in our country,
by proscribing men simply on account of the
accident of birth and form of icligion, thus
creating out of friends enemies in our very
midst 1 And shall wc become the. willing tools
of a set uf designing political demagogues,who
would subvert every principle of our govern
ment—let Inoso'tho wild passions ‘of religious
bigotry and intolerance—drench' our country in
blood, and entail upon, our children eternal sla
very, that they might obtain place and power!
Take from our institutions the liberty there
guaranteed to religion and emigration, and you
rob the government of the great secret of our
I prosperity and happiness, and lay the found**,
AT $2,00 PER ANNUM.
NO. 44.
From tht Dayton (O.) Empire.
Respectfully yours.
J. A. Walters.
Charge second
tioh'fbr aa great a tymnoy as the world '.ever
knew. - --
Sholl’we then stoke bverythingthatisnetr
and deaf; to us, to posterity and ,the .world, to
the mandates and . infamy of a - secret
political oath-bound conclave ? ' Tba Uprisings
of pure patriotism, love of liberty,- and.true
merican principles, say never I SbaUwawb(>.
stand so proudly in odyahCo of;the rest' of tho,
world in civil and religious be nqwpftK
pared to rctrogade and take- to 43ur generoutt
embrace even worse oppression than, unit par
.revolutionary fiithera laid down their lives to
expel 1 Well might, we be called “degenertte
sons of noble sires,” unworthy the boon so dear*,
ly purchased. ..
Why should wc fear those who seek opr
shores because they love liberty more than op
pression, or our institutions better than r their ;
own ? I call upon histoty Co bear tne, witnes£r
when I say, that wehavo pever had,on obsocmk
tion of forcigh-bdrn citizepk to oppose thejgbV- 1
emmeot, or take sides with the enemy ,4h rimO- •
of war? Would to God we could say thesomo;
of some ofour American born citizens! . _ .
And why should we fear our catholic dtl* .
sens, scarcely one to twenty ofour number T—••
And oven were they'five times as nutocrousi -
would there beany just ground for idortnl**»‘
Have they not shown as much patriotism and'
devotion to our institutions upon thb field abd‘
in the councils of the nation os any ether class
of our citizens ? What new light has suddenly'
sprung upon our oQrightcd visions, that- Wt ,
should fear this handfuu ofCatholics are about',
to raise and take this country 1 If wo believe
this, we are Know-Nothings in truth, and--
should carry the title in blazing letters around’
our nocks oil our lives.
Gentlemen : In conclusion I would say** that*
I have, I know, many personal friends of both ’
political patties in the order —honorable men*'
who Joined out of curiosity, or a mistaken no*.
tion of its principles; some of whom I know,'
will never visit a-lodge again. Others will learn
thc carcass us soon as they discover its real >
rottenness, and the character of the propelling;
power, as rats do a sinking ship. ■ AU now >'
that holds'lkc infamy together, Is tho string
desire of its leaders for office, and their appeals *
to the religious prejudices of its members.
1 have now given you some of my. views Of
the order, upon general principles, as well aaa ■
brief reply to the charges, and leave you at, lib
erty to expel me, or draw black lines around ■
my name. But I should prefer that you would 1
beach the whole thing from your books with ,
oxalic acid, that there may be no traces left
that I ever was a member. Ono thing tnoref
Whatever I may think of the binding charac* ‘
ter of the obligation, yet I feel in honor bound;
not to reveal tho names of those I know to bo
members of the order.
Respectfully yours,
J. A. WALTERS.
Dead Subscribe!!,
The story below bos been going the rounds
of the press for several years; and as it can load
nothing by being old, wo giro it for tho benefit
of non paying patrons, in tho hope that they
will save us the trouble of publishing their
obituaries, by making immediate payment:
A long winded subscriber to a newspaper,
after repeated dunnings. promised that the bill.
should be paid by a certain day if he was olive.
The day passed over and no money reached the
office. In tho nxt number, thorcafttrof tho
newspaper, the editor inserted among tho
deaths a notice of his subscriber’s departure
from this life. Pretty soon after the announce- •
went, the subject of it appeared to the editor-^,,
not with a pale and ghastly , cotffttenance usil-'
ally ascribed to apparitions, nor did be wait to ‘
be spoken to, but broke silence. •’■*>
•What sir, did you mean publishing my
death !’ , . ■
•Why, sir,! mean what I mean when I pub
lish the death of any person, viz: ■to Iti tho
world know that ho is dead.’
•But I am not dead.’
•Not dead; then it is your own fault, for
you told roe you would positively pay your bill
by such a day if you lived to that lime. Tho
day passed, the hilt Id not pftld,~BKd you posi
tively must be dead; for I would not bcUerO
you would forfeit your word.*
•Oh. no. I see that you bare got round fiio*
Mr. Editor; but say no more about it—here’i
tho money. And harkee my wag, you’ll con
tradict my death next week ?*
I 'O, certainly, sir, lust to please yon; tho*
upon my word, I c*n’t help thinking you were
dead at the time specified and you bar? cone
back to pay this bill on account of oar friend*
ship lor me.'
Beautiful.
Ii cannot bo that earth is man's abiding
place. It cannot bo that our life is cast up by
ocean of eternity to float upon its waves and
sink into nothingness. Else why is it that the
glorious aspirations which leap like angels front
the temple of our hearts arc forever wandering
about unsatisfied ? Why is it that the rain
bow and tho clouds como over with a beauty
that is not of earth, and pass off to leave us to
muse on their faded loveliness? Why is it thai
the stars, who hold festival around the mid
night throne, ore set above the grasp'of our
limited faculties, forever mocking us with their
unapproachable glory ? And finally, why is it
that the bright forms of human beauty are pre
sented to our view aud taken from us, leaving
the thousand streams of our affections to flow
back in Alpmo torrents 1 We ore born for It
higher destiny than that of earth. There is -a
ixalm where rainbows never fade,'where the.
stars will be uut before us like islets that sluni-'
her on the ocean, and where the beings that
pass before us like shadows, will stay in our
possession forever.
A Snake Breaking a Man’s Rids.— > A most
heart-rending transaction occurred at Madison,
lud.. on Tuesday last, to a gentleman named
McDonald. lie was admiring a beautiful col*
lection of every description of reptiles 6b ezbK 1
bition there. lie foolishly attempted to ban*
die a largo snake, which said snake coiled
around his body, and, with his entire strength,
succeeded in breaking three of Mr. McDonald's
ribs. —Loutsttlle Dem .
was you ever drunk!’ ‘Not I wai
intoxicated with ardent spirits once, and dat'a
’imQ for dis darkey. Do Lord bress you, CdM- ;
or. my head felt as if it was an out house; alt
dc niggers in dc world appeared to bo splitting .
wood in it.'
[C7* Hood could never believe that undertak
ers felt for tho poor. . If they do. how comes It
that they arc always screwing them down.
tfy* True friendship ii a plant of slow;
growth and must undergo and withstand thu,
shocks of adversity, before it is entitled to the
appellation. * • -
The industrious young ladywho walked
all over London with a eon in her hand to’pro*’
cure a pint .of the milk of human kindness, ban
been more successful in getting a Utile Jam out
oflhcjar of a door. She got the Jam on her* ""
Angers. .....
(C7*lndolcnco and indecision of mind,though
not in themselves vices, frequently prepare thd
way to much exquisite misery.
Dkfinition.—Warren, fas Billy Laekaday)
at the Museum, having spoken of "an *og (hog)
and being asked what an *og is, replied: “Bless
you, an *og is a pig's papa!”
\CT. The fellow who broke loose, has gone
into partnership with the ope that “broke the
news,” and they anticipate doing a smashing
business. A
(C/** A fool in high station is like a tnah' on
the top of a monument—everything
small to him. and he appears small to every*
body. • - ,
0"iNo man c*n avoid hi* oWnloompanyi
so ho had better it as good as pbs^bU-