AMERICAN VOLUtfTEEII. PUBLISHED BVEBY indnsbAT MOBNIHO BY Jbliu B. Biiitto* 1 ’ T E K MS.. ’tfib'mtthy injurious restraints.now imposed upon its trade Were removed, it would soon become one of the richest spots on earth. . The island is very heavily taxed by the mo- ther country.. The greater portion of (ho reve nues is derived from duties on imports. A groat difference is made between goods from other countries. The duty on flonr, especially on that from the United States, is very heavy. If from Spain, and in Spanish vessels,' the duty is two dollars per barrel; but if the same be in foreign vessels, the duly is six dollars per bar rel. it the (lour be foreign, but under the Span ish flag, the duty is eight dollars and a half per barrel; but if it be foreign, and under a foreign flag, the duty is nine dollars and a half per bar rel, ' ■The United States flour is, however, so ft superior to the Spanish, that, independently o: the difference in price caused by the discrimi- nating duties laid, it always, commands a ranch higher price, selling, very often, for three dol lars more per barrel. The only effect, of this .high.tariff on American flonr has been to in crease smuggling; for it is more used through out tho island than it was years ago, and yet leas passes through the" custom-houses. Tho trade of tho United States with Cuba has always been very large. The relative propor tion pf goods imported and exported under the. flags of Spain, England, and the United States, has been stated as follows: Spain, forty-three and ono-halfpor cent.; England, seven and one half per cent.; (ho United States twenty-six per cent. ■ Within tho last ton years, the interior of the country has been much improved, and the means of communican increased by railroads,-&c. The first railroad. ever laid in tho island;, running from Havana to the most important of tho sugar districts, was constructed by Alfred Cruger, of the United States. Such, in brief, is Cuba. What she shall.be in future, we,leave to bo determined.by tho po liticians. THE. TWO BROTHERS. The following beautiful Arabian legend we copy from the "Voice of Jacob.” The site occupied by the Temple of Solomon, was formerly a cultivated field, possessed in common by two brothers. One of them was married and. had several children; the other was unmarried. . They lived together, however, in the greatest harmony possible, cultivating the property they had inherited from their fa ther. The harvest season had arrived. The two brothers bound up their sheaves, made two equal stacks of them, and left them on the field. Curing the night, the unmarried brother was struck with an excellent thought. My broth er, said he to_ himself, has a wife and children o support: is it just that my portion of the harvest should be ag large as his ? Upon this, he arose and took from his stack several sheaves winch he added to those of his brother; and this he did with as much secrecy as if ho hud been committing an evil action, in order that Ins offering might not be rejected. On the sartio night, the other brpther awoke and said to his wife, “My brother lives alone without a companion; he has none to assist him in his labor, nor reward him for his toils, while God has bestowed on me a wife and chil dren ; is it right that wo should take from our common field as many sheaves as he, since we have already more than he has—domestic hap piness? If you consent, we shall, by adding secretly a number of sheaves to his stack, by way of, compensation and without his knowl edge, see his portion of the harvest. This ob ject was approved and immediately put in exe cution. - In the morning, each of the brothers went into the field, and was much surprised aXsce ing the stacks still equal. During several/kuc cessivc ■ nights -the same contrivance w*as re peated on each side ; cadi kept adding to his brothers store; the stacks always remained the same. But one night both having stood sentinel to uiv.ino the miracle, they met; each bearing the sheaves mutually designed for each other. It was thus, that all was elucidated, and they rushed into each, other’s arms, each grate-. ful to Heaven for having so good a brother. Now', says the legend, the' place where so good an idea had simultaneously occurred to the two brothers, and with so much pertinaci ty, must have been aoceptibio. to Cod, Men blessed it, and Israel chose it, there to erect the house of the Lord!— Lamartine. TIIE CEDARS OF LEBMOS. • A correspondent of the Boston Traveller, writing from Beirut, Syria, under date of March 6th, 1857,says: . ' Dismounting, I surrendered rhy horse to the guide, while I made my way as best I could down to the Cedars, a descent of more than 3,000 feet. For a long time no cedars appear ed ; and when at last they were seen in the dis tance and fur below me, I confess to a feeling of disappointment; for they appeared like-a sorry clump which §rew in my boyhood in my sainted, father's cow-pasture. At last we ap proached them; wo entered among them; we walked under them ; we Ipokcd up into them ; and we sat down under their amazing branches and midnight shade: and then, and not till then, I at last began to feel the'awfulness and sanctity of their presence; for my two Arabs cared not a straw for- them, and only wondered at the folly of such pains-taking to see them. I approached-some of the most venerable fohns: I attempted lo embrace them, when half a doz en men could barely throw their united arms arourid thern., I wished to address them, njid thinking they 'understood Arabic ns well or better than American , ,1 cried out: *• Kaiif hallackV ’ How are you, old fellows ?. What nows from before tlie flood ? But they deigned to make no reply, only seeming to frown upon they would-have deemed irreverent and impcriinent some thousands of years ago.. The cedars stand .upon three or four rocky hillocks or knolls which join each other, and cover a space ,about thirty rods in diameter, forming- a thick forest without underbrush, fern, or flowers, and by the' smoothness of the soil and the compactness of the branches, inn-; king a cool-and agreeable promenade. The 'number of the trees has been vafiodsty estima ted., on account of the different modes of reek-, onirig, the oldest trees all having several trunks, which some travellers - have reckoned individu ally, while others have taken the whole as one. Burkhnrdt, who is regarded as good authority, says he counted 11 of the oldest and best look ing;.2s which were very large » about 50 of middling size,.and more than 300 smaller and younger ones. Bey, Mr. Calhoun, Principal of. | Abeih Seminary, who had "repeatedly .visited the Cedars apd; studied them, reckons only seven or eight as among the forest'.— But cyeh the descendants of the second and third generation, or later, , are. .generally of largo ; dimensions and wear a venerable aspect. As to size, Maundrcll, the celebrated traveller,, measured the trunk of. one, whose girth-he found to be 12 yards and 6 inches, or 3G£ feet- Mr. Calhoun made one 40 feet.! The.branches shoot out not above ten or twelve feet from the ground, and almost, at fight angles, the low er ones bending so low that ; I easily broke off -iho-ewXtranwtiesJ---:i®fchcighU6&th^truihk^can r not exceed 40 feet, if oven 30, while the spread of the branches Is often 37 yards, or about 110 feet, apd so thickly mtenvined, and rising story above story, that the; Sun cah hardly penetrate them .The youngest trees are some centuries old, while the patriarch seven have usually been re garded as contemporary with Solomon and his temple. Rev. Mr. Calhoun, a gentleman of science as well ns an excellent missionary, cal culated from the diameter of one of the trees and the layers of a block which had been cut out of it, that according to the unerring chro nology of its growth, it must bo fully three thousand years old, if not indeed older, as he was inclined to suspect. So slow is the growth, that where, on a certain tree, a traveller, about two hundred years ago, cut away a piece to inscribe his name, the growth is almost imper ceptible. an any rate riot thicher than the thick- ness of the bark.. Some of (he trees arc hollow high up the trunk into one of which f succeed ed in throwing a stone which may confound the learned, as though a part of the natural growth, or,lead to some neiy geological theory of the age of the world, when the tree shall fall and be cut tip, some three thousand years hence. -Some arc gnarled and twisted into strange shapes by the storms of twenty or thirty centuries, while others have been shiver ed by the lightning. The hoary patriarch and father of all, above twelve feet in diameter, stands nearly in .the centre of the little forest, on a gentle eminence, spreading abroad his ponderous and wide spread arms, each one a tree iii itself, above the heads of all generations which have growri up under them, as if in the instinct of love and protection of his children. Tho King of Delhi’s Mode of Execution. The following lias been communicated to the Poona Observer :. It appears from a journal of European traveller that a now and fourth mode of execution had been adopted by the King 0f Delhi. Tho instrument and process are thus described .- A box, each side of which is 16 feet square, is constructed of timber eighteen inches thick, dove-tailed together, and braced with iron rods. This outside of the bottom of the box is covered with a plate of heated iron, one inch in thickness. The interior is tilled with perfect cubes of granite, weighing in the aggre gate several thousand tons. A‘ machine is erected after the manner of an ordinary pilodri vor, but of conrsp on an enormous scale, and of tremendous strength. The mass is raised by powerful machinery cast in Birmingham for the oxpresAjmrposo, though it is to bo pres'umod that the machinist by whom it was furnished had no idea of the horrid purpose for which it was intended. The human victim is placed up on a block of granite, of a corresponding surf ace, buried in the earth immediately beneath o enormous mass, and covered with a plate At a signal given by the vicramadack of iron, the executioner touches a spring, the mass falls, and the victim, crushed at once, is sud denly annihilated, and spread out like a sheet of pasteboard; the Inigo weight being again raised, the flattened body is withdrawn and dried in the sun, When completely prepared it is hung over the wall of a public building, there to servo as a warning to the multitude. Eclipses. —There will bo four eclipses du ring the year 1858, two of the sun and two of the moon : - —A partial eclipse of the moon, February 2 1 . only partly visible in the United States.— The moon will rise partly eclipsed, which will take place generally after the time of the great est phase. , , r i -u—An annular eplipse of the sun, March 15. The sun will be centrally eclipsed on the meri dian in long. 8.45 west of Greenwich. lat. 45.54 north. Iri some parts of the United States the sun will be partially eclipsed. 3d—A partial eclipse of the moon, Angusl 24. At some place the first contact with the penum bria will not be visible; but to most places in, the United States the whole eclipse will bo vis ible. 4th—A total eclipse of the sun, September 7. ■This eclipse will be total on the meridian. The sun will be centrally eclipsed only in the south ern hemisphere. ■ “OUli OO UN TUT—MAT IT ALWAYS BE IiIGUT—BtJT EIGHT'OK WRONG, OUR COUNTRY.” CARLISLE,-PA., THURSDAY, JANUARY 28,1858. IT ONLY SEEMS THE OTIIM DAY, Though swiftly Time,, with ftSjpwirga, Has borrtc us from old scenc!&j|,knew, Let memory 6ft the picture bfinjp.'^ In glowing colors back toviejt?.; , Thus early friends remcmberVhen, They first as schoolboys met ip play, "And yet, though tears have passed since then It only seems “ the other day.’’ The ,form of her we loved of yore, : To whom we pledged affections vow, Will glide before our eyes once wore, Though but in memory living^Uow; Of.that dark hair one trcssaloncr-^ A treasured gifti-Lus spared dc§ay ; Yet words m that Ojijniliar toijp'd' Seem onl}' breathed “the othcVday, .’.. ? 1 < . Those friends appear no more Hits same That shared our mirth, and drijd our tears, Or taught us childhood’s favoritf game— The dear old friends of early j^ars; But when we aslc, if they forgot.'Y Those memories'of the past, they say— “ Though time lias wrought some changes, yet It only seems ‘the other day.’” The London Times publishes t)jk following letter, from Ahmedabad, dated October 20th, which gives a graphic account of, alpublic cxc ouiion in India : I have just returned from the calfn eye-wit riessing of a sight of which Sot many months ago it would have sickened-me evenib hear. . I shall never see such another, nor you ever sec such an one at all: and; ns all soenctji-havo their profit, I will fix it while' theJetaiigSre fresh! You know, generally, w’hat I amJjS'rig 'ode soribe. It is (he result of more thaji.a week’s continuous court martial, in which. cighieen; men were sentenced to death. Tljiijr! suftcrcd this morning.. ?•£;. Erode down at five; and day dawned as I cantered along, ’ I know nothing su' ( 6ad as that slow dawning on of the-sunrise'.which is to bo the signal of an execuiion. 1 TherejWcro many groupes of natives moving parade ground, which is four-miles from the city, and every now and then, a carriage with .the lamp ■stin,lit. ' When I reached the ground, the bugles wore only sounding, and there was little, to-be seen but the galjows with ten nooses,'ancl the miser able prisoners sealed in .a double rnifin front of it. ‘ I rode slowly, past' them, andi could see no signs of emotion, except that one dritwo .were very pale. /' . ' - . Ba The regiment in which the munijy occurred was the first to take up its ground,-Opposite the gallows. The other native regimeijtj drew up at right angles to it, and the English regiments, , behind the'gallbws,Completed the third side of a square. Between, them were'fourjguns. :At the fourth side were drawn up five gqns, point ing outward-across the flat level! Td these the sentenced men were to bo bound. The urea of the square w-as now ,cavc-ml with mOiliiU:d offi pers,.a few civilians, tho^Gehefai-ai®his stall.. f Ttie«Tiole''cfglK&h ;, [msm^^^ 1 before the native regiments;-andl offence and sentence read in tv clear.Voice;'which reach ed all,spectators--' -This' over. the hist terrible' preparations were commenced. - _ The ten mounted ttr theipplaocs jjhthedrop, and stood there while and shadowy'against die pale sky, but firm and quiet, their'faces hidden in white caps. A firing party- of .twenty mov ed up to a spot within twenty yards of the place where I stood, facing outwards, as the guns did, bn tbehind them, further back into the square. The three men who were to be shot were placed in front, and fearfully- near them, not more than twelve paces from the muzzles of the muskets. They knelt down', their eyes were bandaged, and their- hands ;tied. Mean, 1 while the doomed five had been marched to the fatal guns. They were hound by the arms to the wheels, but their legs were frey and die end' man—the only one whom I could; entirely sec from my place on the flank—leaned his back against the muzzle, as loungers lean against a mantel-piece. I fixed my, eyes intently on that man, not fifty yards away, and in a moment the signal was given. There was a roar, and Ihe whiz? zing of a bullet, far away from the firing par ty ; a bank of white smoke and a jet and show? er of black fragments, sharp 'and clear, which leaped and bounded into-the air; this and a fearful sound from the spectators, as if die reality so far exceeded all previous fancy that it was intolerable; then a dead silence. I walked straight to the scattered and Smok ing floor before the guns. I came first to an arm, torn oft above the elbow, the'fist clinched, the bone projecting several inches, bare. Then the ground sown with red grisly fragments, then a black haired head and the other arm still held together. This was the man I had watched; close by laid the lower"half of the body of the next : torn quite in two. and long coils of entrails twined on the ground. Then a long cloth in which one had been dressed rolled open like a floorcloth on fire. ’■ One than lay in a coinpleto and shattered heap, all but the arms; the legs were straddled wide apart, and the smashed body on the middle of them : the spine exposed ; the head lay close by, too. The last body was that of a native’ officer, who was the arch-fiend of the mutiny ; he was a short man, with a cruel face. His head had been cut clean off, but the muscles of the heck had con tracted round the throat like a frill. His face was half upturned and calm, the eyes shut. I saw no expression of pain on any of them.— What had been- his body lay on its face, the legs ns usual not shattered, but all the flesh torn like cloth from a sharp angle in the hollow of the back, oft'and off, till it merged in one mangled heap. I turned next to 1 the thrto who had been, shot. One had been.struck in the heart, and only bowed slowly over on his face. The oth ers had been pistoled afterwards through the head. All, I think, however, had been badly hit, as all wore prostrate when I ran forward to the guns, f And only now—this was so much more ter rible—did I look up to the ten white figures slowly swinging and revolving over this scene of blood.. I hope they died quickly, but the ropes wore very short. The troops immediately, marched off, and 1 rode home at speed, and when I dismounted the dogs came and licked my feet." Wanderer from your childhbOc|'B home, al most lost in the meshes of a busy world, do you ever recall the words that fell from your listen ing- ear, ns you bade adieu to the loved ones who lingered around you at the parting “return soon?” Do you feel that the yearning spirit of tljcso syllables is nightly embodied in a prayer for you ? And will you return ? The boy that issued from the old farm gate a few years ago, untried, full of hope, sanguine ,for the future, will never return. That which ho has become, will go back perhaps for a season. Blit he carries with him the mark of a contact with “life" in which ho either defeats or. is de feated. The hopes ho entertained then urb eith er subdued, by experience, or driven away for- EXECUTIONS IN INDIA* BBTDRJI SOON. littett. ever; the reward he sought for his high' enter prise, may have eluded his grasp ; the sanguine temperament have grown more calculating.— These changes ai-e perceived by-those, who wel come, him,'yet they arc regarded as the devcl opement of time, rather than an alteration of their Ipved one. “Return soon !” ’tis whisper ed into the ear of the lover, as he presses in sad ness the lips that utters it. It is the wish pre dominating in the heart of those who remain, coined into, words. . . [From Morris and Willis’s Home Journal .] JOHN ANDERSON/MY JO, This exquisite ballad, constructed by Robert Bu tionahjd'lyflfc, has always left something to be wished for and regretted : it is not complete.— But who would venture to add to a song of Burns ? As.Butnß left it, it ruus'thus: ’ John Anderson, my jo, John," When we were first acqiient, . Your locks were like the raven, Your bonnie brow was brent; . But your brow is bald, John, .Your locks are like the Snow; Blit blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson, my jo. John Anderson, my jo, John, Wo clainb the bill thcgilher ; And mbny a canty day, John, We’ve had wi’ ane anither; Now we maun totter dow'n, John, But hand in hand we’ll go, And sleep thcgilher at cho foot, John Anderson, my jo. Fine as this is. it docs np.t ( qnitc satisfy a con tcmplativp mind ; when one has gone so far, he looks and longs for something more—something beyond the-fool of the hill. Many a reader of Burns must have felt this ; and it is quite prob able that many have attempted.to supply the deficiency ; bat we know of only one success in so hazardous an experiment. This is the add ed verse: John Anderson, my jo, John, WHetl we have slept thegithor. The sleep that a’ maun sleep, John; We’ll wake wi’. one anither Arid,in that better warld, John, Nae sorrow shall we know ; Non fear, we e’er shall part again, John Anderson, my jo. ■ Simple, touching,'true—nothing wanting, and nothing to spare; precisely harmonizing with the original, stanzas, and improving them by the fact of completing them. This poetical achievement is attributed to Mr, Charles Gould, a gentleman Of our town, jvhoso life’has been chiefly devoted to the successful combination of fgures-r-bal not figures.of rhetoric. Thevcrse was written some years ago, but it has not hitherto found its way into ,print; yet it' well deserves to be incorporated'with the original song ih ariy future edition Of Burn.’s Poems, and. A Aiding. PJaca of Robespierre, A curious discovery has - lately been '- made, while repairing the house formerly occupied by the Jacobin Club during the groat revolution,and now known as, tho-Hotel de Lohdress, in the Rue St. Hyacinthe, Si. Ilonoro. The Club which guided the destinies of the revolution du ring some few years have often boasted of al’ .v -ihg the ambition ot Robespierre and other lead ers to progress so far* and no -farther, and the members by vote had passed a law which enti tled the majority to exclude from any particular sconce any-particular member whose interests might lead him to sway the opinions ol the club. Robespierre, whose ambition had rendered him an object of suspicion,, had olten' been voted out of the assembly ; ■ and it has been a matter of surprise. to the historian of the lime, that lie could so long have maintained his influence in - s pi to of the violence of the opposition thus per mitted, The soq&t is now revealed: A small room—a hiding place in the thickness of the j wall-alias just been- discovered, opening by a trap-doorinto the very hall whore the .delibera tions wore being carried on,, and whence die could listen to the.measures fo be taken against him, and thus forearmed, hare power to defeat them. It is evident that this hiding place must have been occupied by Robespierre; and when first entered by the workmen, the traces of his presence wore stil] visible in the journal which lay upon the (able, and the writing paper, from. which had been, torn a sniall, portion, as if for the purposePof making a memorandum. The only book which was found in the place was a volume of Florain, open at the 2nd chapter of Claudine. It was covered with snuff, which had evidently been shaken from the reader’s shirt-frill, and bore testimony of the truth of history which records the simplicity of the lit erary tastes of Robespierre. Ilia presence soonicd still to, hang about that small space, ns though ho had Ipiitted’it but a moment before; and.singiilar enough, the marks of- his feet, as though ho had recently trodden through the mud, were .still visible'on the tiles with whicl the flooring is composed. Occupation. What a glorious thing it is for the human mind .' Those who work hard seldom yield themselves entirely np to fancied or real sorrow. When grief sits down, folds its hands, and mournfully fepds upon its own tears,, weaving dim shadows that a little exertion might sweep away into it funeral ball, the strong spirit is shorn of its might, and sorrows become our master. When troubles flow upon you dark and heavy, toil not with the waves, wrestle not with the torrent, rather seek, by occupation to divert the dark waters that threaten to over whelm you into a thousand channels which the duties of lifealways present. Before you dream of it those waters will fertilize the present, and giyo birth to fresh flowers that may brighten the future—flowers that will become pure and holy in the sunshine which penetrates to the path of duty, in spite of every obstacle. Grief after alhis but a selfish feeling, and most self ish in the man who yields himself to the inditl gence of any passion which brings ho joy to his fellow man. Myrrh, This substance is an agreeable perfume and is much valued by eastern nations for its anti septic qualities as well as for its delightful odor. It was and is largely used as a component part of incense, and also in the embalming- of the dead. In the tombs of Egypt, whore ’the mam mies of the great have lain in preservation for ages past, the odor of myrrh is very strong, and we have every reason to believe that it was one of the chief ingredients in the preparation of mummies. It is a gum resin, and occurs in teats of various sizes. They are reddish brown, semi-transparont, brittle, of a shining fracture, appear as if greasy under the pestle, have a very acrid and bitter taste; and a strong smell. Myrrh flows from tiio incision of a treo-not well-known, which grows in Arabia andAbyssiniu, supposed to be a kind of a)nyria or mimosa. It consists of rosin and gum in the proportions of 30 of the former to 06 of the latter. Wo nse it only us o modlcino. ’ I IRISH DROLLERY. . .An amusing story of Dainca Barrington. Re corder of Bristol, is related by one of the Bri tiah press. Having to appear for the plaintiff in a case at a winter assize at he “ let into” the defendant in no measured terms.— The individual, inveighed against, not being present, only heard of the invectives. After Barrington, however, had got back to poublin, the Tipperary mani loaf no .'time in paying his compliments id the counsel. He rode all day and night, and. covered with sleet, hrrived. be fore Barrington’s residence, in Hafcourt street, Dublin. Throwing the bridle of Ids smoking horse over the railing of the arca. he annoupced his arrival by. a thundering knock at the door, which nearly shook the sirecti..,,Barrington’s valet answered the summon^.nnd,>opem'ng the street door, beheld the coaled Tipperary fire-eater, with-it under his ami, and the sleet sticking to Ida bushy whiskers-,..... .. . "- r master up.” demanded thFyisi tori' in a voice that gave some intimation of the ob ject of his journey. . 1* No,” answered the man. . Then give him my compliments, and say. Jlr. Foley (he’ll know the name), will be glad to scohiin.” The valet went up stairs and ibid his mas. ter, who was in bed, the purport, of his.visit 11 Then don’t let Jlr. Foley in for your life. said Barrington, “for it is not a hare and,a brace of ducks he has come to present mo With.” The man was leaving the bedroom, when a rough wet coat pushed by. him, while a thick voice said, "by your leave.” at the same mo ment Mr. Foley entered the bedroom. : “ You, know my business, sir.” said he to Barrington ; “ I have made a journey to leach yon manners, and it is not my purpose to re turn until I have broken every bone in j’oiir body," and at the same time he cut a-figuro of eight with his shillelah, before the sheval glass. . ‘‘ You do not njean to say you would murder mein bed,” exclaimed Dailies, who had asmuoh honor ns cool courage. • “ No,” replied the other, “but get up ns soon ns you can.” “ Yes,” replied Dnines, ‘“that you might fell me the moment I put my body out of the blank ets." . “No,” replied the other, “ I pledge you my word not to touch you till you" are out of .bed, “You won’t?”; “I won’t.” “ Upon your honor ?•” “ On my honor.” “ That is enough,” said Daines, turning over and making himself very comfortable, and seeming as though lie- meant to fall asleep, “ I have the honor.of an Irish gentleman, and may rest as safe as though; I were under, the castle guard.” ; The Tipperary salamander looked marvelous ly astonished at the pretended sleeper;; but soon Dailies began to snore. “ Halloa 1” said Mr. Foley, “aren't you .go ing to get'lip ?” “ No,” said Daincs, i,lrish gentleman' that he will not strike me in "bed.-and .X atesure j-hrn not! going'to get up 16 have my bones- broken; I will never, get up (again. In the meantime, Mr. Foley, if you ( should want your breakfast’, ring the bell ; the best in the house is at j - our service. The morning,paper will be..here presently, but be sure to air it before reading, for there is nothing from.which a man so quick catches a cold, as reading a damp journal,” and Daines once more atieelcd to go asleep. The Tipperary man had fim in him as well as ferocity, he could not resist the cunning of 1 counsel, so, laughing aloud, he exclaimed,: ■ ■ i “ Get up, Mr. Barrington, for in bed or out of bod, I have hot the heart to hurt so droll a heart.” The result was that in less than an hour af :er\yar(j, Caines and his intended murderer wer silting down lo a warm breakfast, the latter only'intent upon assaulting a dish of smoking chops 1 , * ■ • [From /he N. O. .Picayune of December. 28tfi] Moral Effects of tiie Play of “Camille- I —A ■-■•■■■■■ Dreadful Murder. Yesterday a most vile murder was committed in a house of-ill-fuine,' on Basin street (late St. John) between Perdido and Gravicr streets. The victim is a young man named Lewis Byrant, from Mobile, where, it is said, he is respectably, connected. When ho came to this city he ob tained employment ns a clerk in an extensive tanc) 7 and dry goods store, but becoming ac quainted with a woman of bad repute, named Emma Pickett, his intimacy lapsed into infatu ation, and flttelcclirig his business, ho lost his ,place as a /lerk at once with his position in so ciety. Finally, after seeing the play of ‘'Cam ille” several times performed, lie concluded that he could trust'his happiness to the safe koep ot Emma, and so married her. Since that time Emma has figured as the pro prietress of a house ol ill-fame and Byinnt as ‘‘her man.” On Sunday morning the house was visited by a rowdy crew, consisting of Charles Coulter, William Reno, and orio Skilly ings. They.wore somewhat intoxicated, amf behaved rudely, especially Coulter, who quar relied with one of the women, and amused him-. self by frightening the others by pointing Ms revolver at the.. . They, of course, screamed and ran, and Emma entered for the purpose of restoring quiet, threatening.to go for the police unless her visitors conducted themselves like gentlemen. This induced Coulter to become extremely abusive, calling Emma foul names, and inviting her to bring out her bully, (mean ing Byrant,) and 'he would see some sport. In the meantime Byrant, who was in an ad joining room, opened the door to sec what was the matter, when at once Coulter turned the current of abuse on him, calling him all the blackest names in the vocabulary ol blackguard ism. Byrant told him to go away; that he did not Want to have anything to do.with him. and .as be did no, dbulfer advanced on him and struck him in Ins face. One of the 'women then tried to pull the infuriated rutiian away, but ho pushed her, aside with a bloody threat, and-atated with an oath that he intended to kill the son a b . He then dyew his revolve] and tired, the bullet entering the left side of Byrant’s head just nbovothe oar. The wounded man reeled and fell, closing the door with an involuntary movement, and as it closed the murderer discharged another shot, which passed through a panel and went harmless on. Coulter and his friends then escaped, but the noise of the firing had attracted the attention of the po lice, who succeeded.in arresting Coulter and Deno. Deno is the than who was indicted ns one of the parties concerned in of the Greek sailor, Gerbnomio Dimitf*y, and who (with Forbes, his associate.) was sometimosinco admitted to ball. As he was running, .ho throw away a sot of metal knuckles', which have since passed into the hands of Corporal Hyatt. After the escape of the trio. Byrant was ex amined and found to bo fatally wounded. Ho was taken to tlio Circus street Infirmary, with brain and blood coming commingled from his wound. At the Infirmary lie lingered till 9 o'- clock last night, when death put rt period lb his career on earth. (£3?" Some genius has conceived the hri'linnt idea to-press all the lawyers into military ser vice. in case of war—because their 'charges arc so .great that rio bud could stand them. AT 52,00 PER ANNUAL NO. 33. “T have the honor of an Jit7BDEnot;s Assault —-On Sunday evening. R. Crossan. a resident' of Pittsburg, Pa:, went to the residence of Henrietta Griffjih, bis,for/- ntcr wife, from wliom lie had been divorced fop more limn a year, and accused her of improp er conduct. whereupon she stabbed him in the side, inlliciihg a dangerous (round. Grossman was taken to the hospital,'but ho hope of his recovery is entertained. The woman was ar rested, and Andrew W:ebb', in' whose libuseshe resided, was held o hail. RC7" The tallies of morality show' that the lives of edi nrs. Compnied with other men. Sro comparatively short. They wear out before OCT" Widow Stodard died in Pulton' Co., tt, Y., on Christmas day. Site was horn hi con- nection'.in the year 1770 on Christmas day— was married mi Christinas day, and died on Christmas day. age 91 years. ■ ' OCT" It is staled iil the New'Orleans Orescent I bai ibe sugar ci op of Louisiana for 1857 will bo from 225.1100 >o 250 000 hhds., against about 75,000 blids.' in 1850 ' '• *■ DCT’Tbe worst featureTii ti man’s face is his liuse—when stuck in other pcople’s htialness' Remember that—you whit are tu the habit of bobbing lound. - . IE?” There has been some (all dying at Gin eiii.itli. Tiie giraffe beirnigingto the menagerie 'of Drle«b.iek & C" .and Said'to lie the only an imal of the kind in America, died recently. It was valued ut $5090. OC/*’Wlint are wages heic ?" asked a labor ei* ol n bbv. - “I don’t know, sir.” *What does your father ge* oh Sauttdny night?"- ‘ Get.’’ said the boy, **why hegets.as light as a brick.” , . IET* “Yon need's little sun and air.” said a physician to a maiden patient. "Ifl do," was the cute reply, ••I'll wait till I get married " Bolas looked thoughtful, and thought it was best. \CP The tradesman who docs not advertise liberally lias been very appropriately compared to a man who has a lan'ern, but is too stingy io buy a candle. jjy A student in a neighboring college, be ing recently rather “short,"'sold his-books, and wrote to his father that ho was subsisting on literature! • (£7* ’A jockey flic Maze races. England, asked-a Yankee if thee had any swift horses in ' Swift ?" said Jonathan, ‘T’vcseen a horse in Baltimore heat his own shadow a (quaver of a mile the first heat.” ■ A Smart Minister—A minister is on, trial at Seneca l*'alls New York and line of the chqr ges is. he lir d a hvery horse and wagon, Was gone iwo days swapped horses six times, and came back to the stable with the same horAeho took out. having rnatlc one hundred dollars by the opera don. The best of the joke is that it tr perfectly true,” A Horribrc i/fair ih Madison County, S. ti TVe mentioned briefly, the murder at Poof* vilie, Madison cp., N. Y., of'Jared Comstock and Clarissa,' his wife., by their own son. ffm. Comstock. The parricide was arrested. Hp is a man about. 37 years of age.about 5 feet . 7 inches in height. His clothingiwas besmeared with blood when, he was found. .He has al; ways rcsided-wilh his parents in Haniilton and is unmarried. He had been drinking fop some time, and is evidently laboring, undyr mania . potu. He conversed calmly in relation to, tho awful deed, manifesting no concern for speaking of the manner in which he deprived his parents of life as if he had been butchering hogs. Ho. says that for four or five days, something seemed to,tell him he must have a nnmberof hearts.. This was repeated to him many times. He seemed to live in Sh'erburhe, nnda wire came oyer the hill connecting with the room telling him he must have h number of hearts. Some one who lived in Sherburne seemed to telegraph for. them three or four days ago. ... I attempted to kill my father to get his heart. Yesterday ! went and. placed an axe in the - room, intending if! could find nay brother and his wife sitting down, to kill them both at once. It seemed as if I must have both their hearts. About dark I went over to my father’s and found him and my mother sittingr. she woa sewing. I immediately struck her with a skil let and broke it. I then struck my father over the head three or four times with the remains of the skillet and attempted ,tb..g£t_, the axe.'— After knocking cny fa;her down. I got the axe and out out their hearts and put them in flip stove and burned them, The voice seemed, tb* tell me that the hearts must be burned. , After the,deed I-washed my hands, and after remaining in the house a short time,’ left and went down to A. Goslings’; when I arrived I %>wjjtony brother and his wife there visiting, JJfad some fresh meat rip’ tb;fa tefmaining there a short time,,t wefit'down to the house of H. dustings ; told: I’them to get. me a qiiarj of cider and a bottle ; and after obtaining it (eft fflr.my, father's honip without mentioning anything concerning the deed. On arriving. I lay the lounge*, near my father and mother for some time—until near morning. Qn aVya'kerring, .X lehlhg house and met several persons empingf towards it. Ido not recollect who I in formed of .the deed previous .to this. As they approached me some one said “there is. Bill.” This was about eight rods west of my father's. They asked me what,l had been doing. 1 told! them it was 1 none of their business. Part of the company held me, while a couple of them went to the house, and afterwards took nte to Poller’s where I was arrested. , During the night, and after the deed* I at tempted to take my own life, and thus close the tragedy. Afterwards I went to my broth-, er’a house to kill him and his wife. I kicked the panels of the door itr, but they had' gone away. ' '■■■-. dbbbs anb ob& 017“ Dr. Hall recommends, by way of pfe l venlidn taking cold itint persons going out of* heated rooms should “keep their mouths'shut.”. The caution 1 may be. very wise and judicious* but what arc tbe ladies to do ?” - : o”The Sacramento. Ttrties. says, in' the course of a report of at a public dinner, “The Mayor of the day: and ladies, etc., wore appropriately and elegantly drunk, and the party separated in line cheer. Riot at Midijustown. Pa. : — The Harrisburg Telegraph says there was-a serious riot nit W&' dletown on Sunday evening, amongst the ooloi> ed population. up account of die sudden disap pearance of a fugitive female slave; who, as they believed; had been sent back to her mas- ter. Two-colored men were seized by thc ; mob, as the kidnappers were very badly, beaten.'aud they, tn turn procured the arrest of twelve no- groiiji.ifor assaulting them, I CC7“ The question is discussed in Sonic of the, ■ I JJissonrj papers, whether raising hemp is rt good business. 'A much better business. cer-‘ ' .tainly, than being raised by it.. Wild O.vro.vs.—California that onions, growing wild, have boon discovered; in that State, nn inch anil a half in diameter, cov ered with a Illicit bush, like the Kbapfoot.— They are palatable, and Said to be even preferT nble.to garden onions, and will. nodoubt.'ptoVß ,a valuable addition to the cultivated varieties. C!7" The best cure for dvspepsid'is to collect bills for a newspaper, , If that don’t give you an appetite, you might ns well sell your stom ach for tripe, and have done with it, .017” Speaking of lions—that was. an idea' of the hard shell preacher, who was discoursing ot Daniel.in the den of lions. •- Said he: “There he sat all night, looking at the show for nothing ; it didn’t cost him a oent ?” DCT” A fellow out west being asked what made him bald, replied, “The girls had pulled his hair out by pulling him into their wind ows.” tetr tune. 11M11