Am crirau WSUk 0 a In ntcer. f i VOL. 48. AMERICAN VOLUNTEER. EVERT THCRSDAT HORNING BT A^ljomxb.hraxxom. fw *< - teHs. Sttbrciuption.— and Fifty Cents, paid Dollars if,paid within ; tho. year; Dollars and Fifty notjTaid within .ifißWoar.. These terms wiirho rigidly adhered to in instance. No subscription diseontiffifod* tmt.il, PjSll&rreftragos arc paid unless', at tfio, opWu of the /iggiftbn. ' exceeding,' one square', will bo inserted .tarco jsjStnucs for One Dokla^pand for oaou iTfeoso of ,«lgt^W^ n gm in ipldrtejj:'• ‘-V %sy f' If & Joß^PnrNTiNO—Sael^WH^tor»^>^Bt^g-bul9, r ‘Blanks, executed with ' ‘ accuracy and at the - by samce! AU thoughts* all passions; all delights, * Whatever stirs tliis mortal frame, £ll arc but ministers of lovo, . All feed his sacred flame, Oft in my waking dreams do I Tiivo o'er again that happy hour,' When midway on the mount I lay, Beside the ruined tower, The moonshinp'stbalihg o’er the scone, Had.lilctidtd with the lights of eve, And she was there, my hope, my joy. My.own dear Genevieve. She loaned against the armed man, Tho,Btfttuo Of the armed knight, She stood anti listened to my lay, . Amid the lingering light. Few sorrows hath she of her own, My hope !my joy! my Genevieve ! She loves mo best whon’or I sing • The songs that make her grieve'. X played a soft and doleful air, I sang an old and moving story, An old, 'rode, song that suited well That rain wild and hoary. sho listened with a Hitting blush,: -With downcast eyes and modest grace ; For well she knew I oould not choose But gaze upon her face. * I told her of the knight that wore Upon his shield a burning brand; • And that for ten long years bo wooed The lady of the land. X told ho pined; and oh! The!.deep, the low, the pleading tone With which I sang another’s love Interpreted ray own. She listened with a flitting blush, With downcast byes and»modost grace; And she forgave mo that I gazed . . Too fondly on her face ! • • But when T told the ornol soorn,, v , ' That crazed that bold and lovely knight, And that ho crossed the mountain woods, Nor rested day or night;. That, soinctimes from the savage don, And sometimes from tho darksome shade, And sometimes starting up at onoo In green and sunny glade—l There came and looked him in tho face ■ An angel beautiful and bright,- And that ho knew, it was a fiend, This miserable kuight! And that unknowing what be did,. Ho leaped amid the murderous band, • And saved from outrage worse than death The Lady of the Land—‘ And how she wept and clasped bis knees ; And bow she tended him in vain, . And over strove to expiato Tbo soorn that crazed his brain— And that she nursed him in o cavej And bow his madness wont away. When on the yellow forest loaves A dying man ho lay— His dying words—but when I reached That tendorost strain of all the ditty, My faltering voice and pausing harp Histurbcd her soul with pity 1, All impulses of soul or sense Had thrilled my guileless Genevieve, The music and. the doleful tale, The rich and balmy ovo j And hopes, and fears that kindle hope, An undistingnishablo throng, And gentle wishes long subdued, Subdued and cherished long! . She wept with pity and delight. She blushed with love, and Virgin shame j And, like the murmur of a dream, I hoard her breathe my name. Her bosom heaved—she stopped aside, And conscious of ray look she stopped— Then suddenly, with timorous eye, She ilod to mo and wept. She half, oncloscd mo in her arras, She pressed mo with a meek embrace, f And bonding back her head looked up, And gazed upon ray face. *Twas partly love and partly fear And partly ’twas a bashful art. That 1 might rather feel and see The swelling of her heart. I calmed her fears and she yvas calm,' And told her love with Virgin pride | And so I won my Genevieve, My bright and beauteous bride. Miracle of Honesty. —At a party one evening, several contested the honor of hav ing done the most extraordinary thing, and a reverend gentleman vena appointed sole judge of. their respective pretensions. , One party produced his tailor’s bill with a receipt attached to it. A buzz went through the room that this could not be outdone, when a second proved that he arrested his tailor for money loaned him. “The palm is his,” was the general cry but a third put in his claim. . tleinoii, ’ said he, 1 ‘ I cannot boast of the feats of either of my predecessors, but I returned to the owners two umbrellas that they loft at my house.” 1 11 hoar no more,” cried the astonished arbitrator; this is the very ne plus ultra of honesty and unheard of deeds; it is an not of virtue of which I never knew one capable.” that ano^er > I’ve done more than ”butest\r’it B ” id th 6 Wh ° le °° m P an y’ oi,Eni hen . ? ou ? ouU between two words idiomatic? s 'ehew fi'no°w™rfs wTufd roses on'your ShoSk! ° Le^s^s^henl"^ and shortest words that will cramm»fli n n 1 wid gracefully express our meaning. a FATHER EUSTACIO. In one of tho most beautiful provisoes of- Portugitl stands a convent, in itself an object of beauty froni its exquisit'architecture, and rendered doubly attractive from the almost unequalled lovliness of its situation. Let the imagination revel amid groves of orange trees, laden, at once with fruit, flower, and perfume—amid tracks of the dark olive and pine, relieved by tho fragrant and lively foli age of the'myrtle and geranium—alleys of lemons and citrons, bowers of roses, and springs and rills of tho coolest and freshest water, holding Nature’s own .mirror to the clinging tufts of violets and wild lilies .whichblossom spontaneously oh their margin—let it do all this,' and yet it will sonrcely trace on its own tablet the luxuriant landscape. On tho south ern" side of tho convent, ■ beneath a hill, gay with'its belt of timber and its laughing vine yard, stood, the Quinta d’as Lagfamas ; but 1 am premature in thus designating it—the mime of thh “Villa'of Tears’’ > was given to it (iftor that of which .I ant, about to tell had fa-,. Mg-mldde. ' : jJ“lirtlifa convent dwelt the mysterious Father phidfncio. The monastic robe of white bin tnll and graceful f'— 'ljetfet suited to the regal, puip ph his .head was shaven ; but the raven curls clustered richly round a brow high and smooth as marble, and the-dark fiery eye, and the scornful smile which discovered teeth like eastern pearls, yet told of a world ho had vowed to renounce forever. Ho wits' a Span-, iard—-the brotherhood themselves know no more; ho'liad made rich offerings at the shrine of,the patron saint of their order; ho had broken the weapon which he wore at his arri val on .the the altar, and trampled his dark plume Beneath his feet on the thresh old ; he had withdrawn a rich jewel from his neck, and laid it at the fept of the Madonna (Nossa Sonora da piedade); and .ho had finally taken she vows of the order, and became, to,:appoarance,, like the rest of the community —a mere creature of mechanism and habit. But no one followed Eustaoio to his narrow cell—no ear dronk in the low sounds which escaped from his overcharged spirit in his solitude—no eye behold the contempt with which ho hurled from him the effeminate hab it of the brotherhood—none looked on him in his paroxysms of emotion, when, with|clenched hands, fixed leeth, and starting eyeballs, ho stood, in the midst of his confined nppartment, like a thing of stone, and then sprang, as it wore,.into life so suddenly, that every nerve quivered, and every vein swelled almost to bursting; when his heart heaved as though he had m.tspaoo even for existence in his nar row prison, and his hand instinctively sought V *l. to grasp a weapon which he wore no longer, and then fell listlessly at his side. None heard the soul-fraught groan that followed ns he sank down with Ins-,face buried in his sprosd palms, and spent the night gazing un consciously at the dim lump that lit up the misshappen altar, the rude crucifix, and the grinning skull, "which wore the furniture of his'ccll. It wns/fho festival of thoir patron saint, ixivl one of the brotherhood watched by, his shrine all night. Eustacip won permission from the prior to be that one; and the vesper was chanted, and the twilight mass said, and the monks uttered their orisons at the shrino, and departed, and Eustacio was alqno. lie looked around him and smiled. There was a taper dimly lighting up the figure of the saint; and the holy lamp, which is never extinguished, at the altar of the Sacramento, shod its faint light over a limited space, and loft tho-rost of .the vast odifico in darkness. No sound was there save the fall of his own footstep as he strode through the murky aisle. Twice had he traversed it and returned to the shrine he watched; a third time ho paced its solemn length and approached the altar; but now ho started, and the blood sprang to his brow, while he passed his hand over his eyes, ques tioning the evidence they gave him. Kneel ing there, with her veil thrown back, and disclosing her pure and pallid beauty, was a female, whoso mantle of sable velvet fell around her in largo and heavy folds’; jewels wore in her hair and on her arms, atid the very missal in her small hand was clasped with a rich gem. Her lips moved noiselessly, aiid she seemed so absorbed in her .devotions that she had not heard his-approach. Eusta oio stood like one entranced—a thousand rec ollections pressed upon his spirit—his dark dark eyes flashed fire—his breast heaved yet lie stirred not. The prayer was ended, the lady rose to depart, and- started on dis covering the monk. Eustacio gazed upon her ns her features wore fnlly fecoalod by the taper which burnt before the shrine of the saint. She was beautiful; but it was a proud, pale beauty, which sorrow seemed to bo wast ing, though it had failed to destroy. Her form was slight and graceful as the sweep of the river willow. Something that lady road in the countenance whereon she gazed, which forbade fear for in an instant she stood calm ly and almost proudly before him. The monk remained like a statue riveted to the spot. “Holy father I” she commenced, in atone so rich and deep that it died away down the long aisle of the chapel, like the last note of the vesper organ. “Scarce saint enough for tho first, nor rev erend enough for the second, lady]” murmur ed the monk, as though he brooked not the address from such lips; aid tho dark eye flashed, and tho rich blood man ted in the proud brow, “add yet other epithets become me not, even from beauty." There was questioning in the look which was turned on him as ho spoke, but ho replied not to it,, stive by casting still farther back the cowl which had partially shaded his face, and erecting his fine person yet moreloftly. But there needed not words to toll tho heart of tho lady that it was possible even yet to for got tho cowl and rosary, and to look on him as a man, not ns a monk. Passion was there in tho eye and on the lip —passion of tho world’s birth, which tho chill of the cloister hud failed to displace; and there, was pride in tho heaving of tho serge-clad chest, and the dilation of the enveloped figure—oven in the grasp of the finely-formed whit hand, which drew more, gracefully together the folds of the coarse habit. For all this one glance suffered. Never had tho lady looked on such a face and form within those walls— never on any with tho feeling which now pressed upon her heart. Slowly and silently she drew from her boson a small golden key, and, adjusting it to a concealed look in nn or namental panel of tho shrine, a narrow door fell back, and, raisingalamp from tho ground, she turned one long, fixed look on tho monk, and retreated, closing the door as she with drew. Long stood Eustacio gazing after her, nsllioughliodi'eaihod'tlmtaliowtTuldre-ap- - pear; hut she came no more that night. Thenceforward tho piety of Father Eusta ohio became a preverb among tho brotherhood. His nights wore no longer spent in sloop; ho kept holy vigils when tho world was buried in slumber. There was something in the de parting look of the mysterious visitant of the chapel which assured him that she wont not ■ forever, and tho assurance was verified.—- ' Night after night she trod tho secret passage from her own sunny homo to tho convent shrine ;,and Eustachio heard her talo of sor row ; and she breathed it as she sat on the marble step of tho altar whoro they had first met; and the hand of the monk wiped away the few large drops which fell ns sho murmur ed it in his car. It was a simple and a sad tale. Her father had vowed her to a hated union, and she pined in soul, while she won, by sup plication, frequent but short delays. Then came tho name of her hated suitor, and the bowled listener started from her side, and clenched his hands, and ground his teeth, as ho murmured oqt— “’Tfa ho! 'tis he !—the murderoy of my sister—the hunted one of my hate/whora I pursued till my soul sickened that T found him not, and in dispair vowcd.itsolf away in a cloister, that it might moulder in to inanity, and forgot. But think not that I have forgot ten, Hearken to mo, Inez”—and ho drew towards lus agitated listnor, who had already risen and stood before him—“hearken to me; I could not forgot! The call, tho cowl and the cloister—they are not tho anodynes I madly thought thorn—they bring no Loth—l un still Adrian, Duke of——while I strive tlio dead Carlotta, while I thought only to throw off the world and the world’s ties.— Daro not to marry him ! Listen to but one vow from his polluting lips, and tho curse of thy crime be on, thee ! lilood is there upon his hand, though he may stretch it to thee in gentleness—poison in his' breath, though it may syllable passion. , lie was tho husband of my sister: she passed away, and none knew where or how ;-but many whispered— piurder.! Think you not that I pursued him? Ay, as a hunted door, he fled -from place to place, and I was over at liis heels: —alas, too late! Then mark me, Inez I for X can but breathe it in a whisper—he sought to rid him self of so tenacious a pursuer, so bitter ah en emy, and he poured his subtle poison into tho ears of one in power, and I was pro claimed—a traitor. Tho blow was strek— my sister,. my revenge, all wore forgotten— my proud name became a reproach—my hon ors were bowed to, the dust. Look at yonder sparkling cress, pendant from tho nock of the Mndona ; little deemed I, wheri.l knelt to re ceive that boon, that the giver, in his blind belief or an. enemy, would so soon , oast me forth to, shame and obloquy! . I .uttered no justification—to be suspected was enough ; but I came hither—oamo to forgot mysolfto stone—to bo a man no longer—to bo,a monk —and lam one ! The convent rings With my piety: the blind crowd, who looked on me, hold mo as a thing too holy for this world. I am.,pointed at as a pattern, made the depos itory of tho sin of others,'and hold to bb too pure to siii myself; but it is not so,” and the. deep voice grow yet deeper—“tho very ! thought of crime has roused' me from my lethargy—tho very thought of him whom have sworn to sacrifice. l I have vowed ;the dagger; X have hunted him to his lair, and now I can-strike it even to his heart's centrel“ „.“ Adna r\A JRuB 1” .03 wj;mured thej^dy. “Either name is dear from thy lips,” said the cowled noble, “though the one is sullied by calumny, and the othcr.is but a mockery. But hark I Inez, they have rung in the dawn; the drones arc about to shake off tlioir drow siness, and live on till’another day. in their apathy; till tomorrow, then, farewell 1“ “Farewell!”. echoed Inez, as ho strained, her to his heart, , and ore many moments she had disappeared. The officiating monk had sleepily entered, the chapel to feed the lamp at the altar of the Sacramento, and Father Eustacio was prostate before the shrine of the saint, • Weeks passed, and still at intervals the no ble monk and the gentle Inez met when tho world slept ; hut the spirit of the Duke pant ed for vengeance on his enemy, and. it came at InSt. It was on a lovely, midnight, when tho lands ciipo was flooded with tho light, and the sparkling stars flashed out of the clear heavens like diamond - studs scattered over a robe of purple, that tho monk wandered from the convent garden to tlic grounds of the ad joining qujnta. For awhile ho passed on, gazing as lie went on the white clusters of the cle,matis and the richer blossoms of the-pome granate, as. they disclosed thoir.libanty't6 tho moon, and thought of Inez ; .hut ore long came wilder visions, and ho remembered his sister, who was murdered in her lovolincs, and on whoso grave no eye had rested. Then came tho memory of her husband, of the murderer! and lie looked up to the moon as she rode in light, and then down nn the dark shadow cast along the earth by the wooded, height which bounded the landscape. He filt that he stood there a dishonored man and an alien— lie felt that ho was loved oven in lis evil for tune, and that his enemy had again crossed his path. Ho struck his hand forcibly on his breast, and it caino in contact with the hilt of his dngor; the monk smiled —the world had seldom looked on a smile like that with which he drew it forth. Ho cast back his clinging robe, ho fetched one long, deep breath ; there was fire at his heart alio' in Ins brain: and he hurried on. There had been feasting in that place of beauty, and the guests wore vet awake. He approached the house; and avenue of of oitron trees threw lip their rich perfume to the sky,, and darkened the space • beneath them, He hastened to that spot of gloom ; but it had other occupants. Ho heard'the voice of Inez ; trombliug and tearfully she spoke, and entreaty quivered on her tongue. Other accents he hoard also—the accents of his enemy 1 For a moment lie pansod silently and sternly, and then ho sprang convulsively forward and stood before them. There was a faint scream—the scream of a woman ; hut the revelers hoard it not. Then came louder and longer sounds s names wore shouted, and imprecations follow them ; there was a strug gle, a wrestling for life ; hut Inez in her ago ny stirred not a limb. The loud laughter of her fa'Jier’s guests came fitfully on the night breeze like tho rejoicings of observant fiends. Light was around them—tho pure light o( the silver moon—hut they stood bn a spot of darkness 1 Tho struggle was brief, yet to Inez ifsenmod to have lasted years; one of tho combatants staggered and fell heavily against tho trunk of a oitron tree, and the white blossoms showered on him as lie sank down blooding and sonsoiess ; then came tho deep tones of the monk upon her ear, as ho laughed out his triumph and struggled for a moment ere he fell prostrate beneath his ene my. Tho moon bowed her silver brow to the comim'dawn, and the blossoms scattered fresh sweetness to the morning breozo ; the rev-d -ors shook" off' the sloop, arid' came forth to gladden their oppressed ener gies by tho freshness of nature,. One among them entered tho avenue of citrons—two lay dead before him, tho affianced noble and tho holy monk , and a third was there ; she look ed up and pointed with stern eye and steady finger to the corpse of the cowled combatant —it was the Indy Inez. Her hair was damp with the night dew, and her lips livid and “ OUR COUNTRY—MAY IT ALWAYS BE RIOIIT—BUT, 1 RIGHT OR WRONG,, OUR COUNTRY.” CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, DECEMB. “ In so just a war, which.-wo liovo not pro voked by any act, by any pretense, the true cause of which it would bo impossible to as sign, and whore we the orilytaUo arms to; de fend ourselves, we depend; entirely upon the support, of the laws, and upon that of the people,, whom circumstances call upon to give fresh proofs of .their. devotion and cour ago.” '.-i-;.. Placing himself at the head of his army, by a series of skillful mansouvers, ho throw his whole force into the roatopf the Prussians, cutting -them oft’ from their-, supplies, and from all possibility of retreat. Being thus sure, of .victory; he wrote as, follows to the. King of Prussia: V, , . Sib, my BaoxnEn—l am in the heart of Saxony.. My strength is Siich that your forces cannot balance the yjotory. But why shod so much blood? AVhy iipake our subjects slay each other ? I do not prUe victory pur chased by the lives of so many of my children. If I wore just commehcing ; my military ca reer,’ and if I had any reason to fear the chances of war, this langunjitiwould bo whol ly misplaced. ’.Sire,’ your.V.jnajesty will .be vanquished.- At present, are uninjured, and may treat With mo in Wfetanner .comfor table with'your rank. -month is fussed, ymi,.will tv--.it ia.■ pbfiilleh.■ am aware that in thus wrv>A> I may irri tate that sensibility, which naturally belongs to every sovereign. But circumstances de mand that I should use no concealment. I implore your majesty to view in this letter, nothing hut the dosifo I have to spare the effusion of human blood. Siro,' my brother, I pray God that lie may have you. in Ilis worthy and Holy keeping.*’, k To.this letter no reply was returned. In two days from this time the advance guard of the French .mot tho Prussians, strongly en trenched upon the plains of Jona and Auor stadt. It was tho evening of tho Ijith of Oc tober. The sun was just sinking with unusu al brilliancy behind the Western hills. When the proud array of, tho Prussians, mdro than one hundeod thousand strong, appeared, in sight. Three hundred pieces- of artillery wore-concentrated in batteries, and a squad ron of.eighteen thousand cavalry, splendidly caparisoned and with burnished nrpior, Wore drawn up upon the plain. Napoleon immediately took possession of tho Landgrefenborg, a steep, craggy hill, which, tho Prussians had supposed inacces sible to artillery, and from whose summit the long lines of the. Prussians, extending many leagues, could bo clearly, discerned. ’ As the glonurof night settled down, tlio bliize of the Prussian campfires,'extending over li space j of eighteen miles, illuminated the scone with an almost unearthly glow, Couriers wore despatched to hasten on tho bat talions of tho French army. To encourage the men, Napoleon, with his o.vn, hands, labored through tho night in blasting tho rocks and clearing the way that lie might plant a battery upon the brow of tho Land grafenberg. As brigade aftor.brigade arrived they took the position assigned them by their experienced chieftain. Suult and Ncy wore ordered to march all night to a distant point, .to Cut oft the retreat of tho onbmy. To wards morning, Napoleon threw himself upon the bleak hillside to chare for an hour the frigid bivouac of the soldiers. ■ .. At 4 o’clock ho was again on horseback. A dense fog covered the plain,—shrouding the sleeping host. Under cover of this dark ness, Napoleon ranged his troops in battle ar ray. Enthusiastic shouts greeted him as ho rode along the lines. After G o’clock, the fog still unbroken, the order was given to pieree the Prussian linos in every direction. For eight hours the battle raged with a fury never before or since surpassed; The ground was covered with the dead; the shrieks of the wounded, trampled beneath the hoofs of charging squadrons, rose above the thunder of the battle. . About 1 o’clock, P. SI., the ;Prussian General sent the following frantic despatch to the reserve:— “Lose not a moment in advancing your yet unbroken troops. Arrange your columns so that through their openings there may pass the still unbroken bands of the battle, lie ready to receive the charges of the enemy’s cavalry, which, in the most furious manner, rides on, overwhelms and sabres the fugitives, and has driven into one confused mass, the infantry and cavalry.” The Prussian reserve, twenty thousand strong witlvunbrokon front, now entered the field, and for a moment seemed to arrest the tide of victory. Napoleon stood at the head of the Imperial Guard, which ho had held in reserve as hour after hour, ho had watched and guided the terrible fight, “A young soldier, impatient of this delay, at last, in the excess of his excitement, shouted “Forward Forward!” Napoleon turned slowly to him and said: 11 Hmv now! “What beardless boy is this, who ventures to counsel his -Emperor ? Lot him wait until ho has commanded in thirty pitched batteries, before lio'pfofferS“hi.r~ad-- vloo.” It was now 4 o'clock. The decisive mo mont had arrived. Murat, at the head of twelve thousand horsemen, fresh, and in per fect array, swept down upon the plain, as with earthquake roar, charging tho bewilder ed, exhausted, bleeding ,host, and ma few minutes tho work was done; tho Prussian army was destroyed, bike an inundation the compressed. One glance siifiicod—horror had boon busy ■with her—she vyas a maniac! Pew heard the tale: the holy brotherhood boro away their dead; the Count consigned his fellow noble to a sliest'-.grave, and of Ins daughter no one Knew mOi'o. The peasant, ns ho passes the forsaken pile, doffs his cap while no hastily mutters A, pater and-an Ave, and hurries on his muld?- from the Quinta d’as Lagrimas. , ' JENA AND ADERiVTADA. , nr JOHN s. ABBOTT. In the year 1806, Engtead, Russia and Prussia formed andwoolilthh against Franco. Prussia commenced the campaign by invad ing Saxony with an arm#lof t 200,000 men under the command of I&edenek William, the Prussian King. of Russia, with an equal army, was pressing down through the wilds of Poland, to unite in the march upon Paris. Englandco-oporatedwith her invincible fleet, and with profuse expen ditures from her inexhaustible treasury. The Emperor was greatly* provoked by this 'ifu [TrovtMccir , .. plans for developing the industrial resources of Franco. He shut himself up for forty oTght hoursto arrange the details of the canir paijrn; and immediately dictated two hun dred letters, all of which .still remain the monument of his sagacity .and energy. In six days the whole imperial puard was trans ported from Paris to the Rlnno. They trav elled by post sixty miles a day. On the24th of September, Napoleon, nt ; fniduight, enter ed his carriage at the Tuillerios, to join the army. His. parting wordau to tho Senate were: • "i- ;R 19, 1861. fugitives rushed from the field,. ploughed by the batteries of Napoleon, and trampled beneath the tread of his resistless cavalry. ■ While this scene was transpiring on the plains of Jena, another division of the Prus sian army was encountering n similar disas ter on the field of Auerstadt, twelve miles dis tant. As the fugitives of both armies were driven together in their flight, in confusion and dismay unparalled, horsemen, footmen, wagons and artillery, in densost.;and wildest entanglement, there was rained down upon them the most terrible storm of balls, bullets and shells. " Night came at length. But broughtno re lief to the vanquished,, The pitiless pursuit was uninterrupted. In Whatever direction the shattered columns tied, they were met by the troops which Napoleon had sent anticipa ting the movement; , Thokinghimsolfnarrow ly escaped; capture during the rout of that terrible night. Accompanied by a few com panions on horseback, ho leaped hedges and fences, and plunged through forests and fields, until ho reached a place of safety. The Prus sians lost in this one disastorous fight twenty thousand in killed and wounded, while twen ty thousand more wore taken prisoners, ..bLn-q-nvoi so much skill in the following up a victory ns Napoleon. In less than fourteen days every rommlnt of the Prussian army was taken,and all the fortresses of Prussia wore in the hands.of the French. The king, a wod-'striokon fugi tive, driven from his realms, fled for refuge to the aftny of Alexander. .Never before in the history of the world was so formidable d power so speedily arid utterly’ annihilated. But one innnth.had now elapsed sinoo Na poleon left Paris. An army of two hundred thousand men, in thorough discipline and drill, had, in that time, been either killed, taken prisoners, or dispersed. Not a hostile regiment remained. A largo number of for tresses, strengthened by the labor of ages, and which had been deemed impregnable, had fallen into the hands of the victor, and he was reposing in security in Berlin, in the palace of Frederick the Groat. The story of this wpndoful achievement passed oyer Europe like the wonders of an Arabian talc, exciting universal amazement. “In assailing this man,” said the Emperor Alexander, “ wo are buit children attacking a giant;” . ‘ ' . An 1812 War ; Storv. —This following, we believe, baa nover seen print, Ogden Hoff man used to, tell the story.' lie was in the great fight between the Constitution and the Guerriere, and said that as the British ship came sailing down on them, as they board the sharp orders, when the guns wore run out and the men " could be, soon ready with their match-looks, an officer came in haste to Cap tain Isaac Hull, and asked for orders to fire . “Not yet,” was the quiet response. As they" came still nearer, and the British vessel poured in her fire, the first lieutenant of the Consti tution came on the poop and begged permiss ion to return the broadside, saying that the men could not he restrained much longer.■— , .tiNnt.yvtVA’vm dh,ooindiffewnfc.reply t v,S,tiU nearer the British ship came, and the Amor , lean prisoners, who were in the cook-pit of . the Guerriere, afterwards said that they began to believe that thoir own countrymen wore afraid to measure their strength with that of the enemy, and this thought gave them more pain than the wounds which some of them | wore still suffering from. In a moment after the Guerriere rode gal lantly forward, showing her burnished sides; and as the swell carried her close to the very muzzle of “Old Ironsides,” Captain Hull, who was then quite fat and dressed in full tights, bent himself twice to the dock, and with ev ery muscle and vein throbbing with excite ment, shouted out as ho made another gyra tion, “Now, boys, pour it into them.” That broadside settled their opponent, and . when the smoko cleared away the Commodore’s tights wore to bo seen split from waistband to heel. Truly the Commodore had a soul “too big for his brooches." Hoffman used to add, that Hull, nothing disconcerted, gave his orders with perfect coolness, and only changed his tights when the British commander's sword'wus given up to him TiiE LtDm.E Pn.vcK Doxy.—“Ohon, you reoklemember dat liddlo plaok boney I pyod mit do bcdlar next veak?” “ Yah : vot of him ?” “ Netting, only I gits shoatod biirdy pad.” "So?” “ Yah. You aoe, in do vurst biape he iah blind mit bote logs, und ferry lame mit von eye. Don von you git on him to rite ho rares up pohint unt kicks up pefore so vusor as a chaokmule. I dinks I dake him a liddle rite yiadortay, tint so sooner I gits strattlo his back he gommonoe to hoist up, shust so like a vakin poam on a poatstoam ; und von ho gits tone I was so mixt up mit eferydings I vinds minesolf zittin arbuut paekvards, vit his dail in mine-hants vor do pridlo.” “ Veil, viit you going do to mit him ?” “Oh,. I vix him potter as chain up. I itoh him in do cart mit his dail varo his heat ought to po; den gifo him npout two dozen out mit de hiteoow ; ho starts to go put so soon ho see de cart poforo him ho makes paokwart. Burty soon ho stumbles bohint, und sits town on his haunches, und looks like ho„veol burty shamped mit himself. Don I dake him out, hitch him in do right vay, unt ho goes off shust so good as anypody’s bony. Matrimonv, avd Happiness. —Sain Slick, in his “ Wise Saws,” say that tho nature of matrimony is one thing, and the nature of friendship is another. A tall'man likes a short wife ; a great talker a silent woman, for both can’t talk at once. A gay man likes a domestic woman, for ho oan leave her at once to nurse children and got dinner, while ho is enjoying himself at parties. A man that hasn’t any music in him likes it in his spouse, and so on. It chimes beautifully, for they ain't in each other’s way. Wow, friend ship is the other way; you must like tho same in each' other, and bo good friends. A similarity ot tastes, studios, pursuits, and rec reations, {what they call congenial souls,) a toper for a toper, a smoker for a smoker a I horse-racer for a horso-raoor, h prize-fighter I for a prise-fighter, and so on, Matrimony likes contrast; friendship seeks its own coun tetparts. Honev and Butter. —The Key. Br M ■ was reputed for the suavity of Ins manners and his cspocial politeness towards tho fair sox Handing a dish of honey to a lady, at a party in his house, ho said, in Ins wonted manner, “do take a little honey, Miss rf ’tis so sweet—so like yoursolf.” “Ah,' Mr. Muddie,” handing the butter di«hto.thohosW3hc,cyc!aim_cd,J‘_Do_tidcna little butter ’tis so like yoursolf!” “ In what company is your life insured, sir ?” asked a sprightly young miss. “ In tho Hope.” “ I prefer the Alliance,” said sbo blushing* “•Then-we’ll make a joint-stock operation, if you, choose,” said the delighted old bache lor. Tbe Man with the Bundle. You have Burly, broad shouldered, a little careless both in dress_ and gait, as if conscientiously opposed to precision of any kind; and his face, from the shining curve of the smooth shaven chin to the gleam of gold spectacles that sits astride his, nose, beams with eshanstless good humor;, : About 5 P. M: is bis hour, when you can. generally see him heading ns if homeward, and carry ing thitherward a brown paper enveloped parcel. Prorii long this fea ture of his personality, we liau como to des ignate his Otherwise nnonymousnoss as "the man with the bundle.” It may have been imagination on our part, but ns we met him the other cold afternoon, bis face seemed so absolutely radiant with the boat of genial benevolence, that we thought" the thermometer at the corner of Milk street wont up two degrees ns he passed. We determined to make an effort to know more about bim. , To-day our desire was gratified. Turning into Marsh’s to purchase the quill now be tween our fingers—we can’t abide metallic pens—who should bo standing at the counter, eliwiinr.;vf. flip Uiima inwlqi.l Hip till nf~ n m!i!r~. tn-miinjfca 'nificent writing case and a bargain fop. its purohasg, but our radiant-faced friend. , . “ To. what address shall wo send this?” said the clerk, with a tone indicating extreme respect. . “Nowhere,” responded the purchaser, “I always carry my own bundles.” “ Yes. sir; but this is heavy, and it will he a pleasure to us to send it.” “.Young man,” replied the other, “I al ways love to take something homo at night to show to my wife and children that I haven’t forgotten them while at my business, and I wouldn’t give a pin to make . anybody a present, unless I carried it into the house myself.- I began life by lugging about par cels as a dry-goods man’s, boy, and many is the weary mile of sidewalks I’.vo trudged to carry a yard of ribbon or a paper of pins to omobody too proud or too lazy to carry it for tlnemsolvos. 1 haven’t forgot my old thoughts, and what’s more, though times have changed with me since then, lain’t ashamed to bo soon iu the street with a bundle.” , i “ Yes, sir, but this is heavy.” “ No matter, I’m strong,” and out ho wont with such a glow on his face, that one could imagine, it lighted iip the now dim sidewalk, rods ahead, ns a locomotive burner illumina tes its track. Another well-known street face passed him in the door coming in. Purchasing a con gress knife, the now comer said in,a sharp and dictatorial tone, " send it to my house, (No. fifteen hundred and somothing.Washing ton street) immediately; ,1 will want it ns soon as I get home.” “Two different men,” suggested we r as the clerk closed the door after him. ■ “ Very,” was the reply. “ Tho man with the bundle is , the honest owner of hundreds of thousands, and .there never was m subscription'paper yet lluit didn't gob his name (or something handsonid.Tho oth er man failed last week, all there was of. him to fail, is'nt worth his salt; but ho had rather take tho commercial disgrace of a.fail uro at any time, ■ than tho social disgrace of being seen in tho streets with a bundle.” ' Two different men, indeed! We shall take off our hat the next time we meet Mr. It on the sidewalk, Dong may ho Jive and car ry bundles to make people happy.— Congre gah'onalist. The New York correspondent of the Phil adelphia Sunday DispafrJi mentions that Gardner Furniss has gone insane, and been sent to a mad house. The correspondent con tinues : Gardner Furniss has been sent to a mad house ! Do you remember the, man 7 You cannot have forgotten a soandclous flare-up that took place hero at the St. Nicholas Hotel two or three years ago, in; which a dandified young man of tin's region so persecuted a southern lady with whom he became inti mate that she had to call for protection, in the hotel, against personal violence. She was a married lady of high respectability and standing, but in some manner bad entered into an “entangling alliance” "with this yonng northern adventurer, who improved the chance to deprive her of all her pocket money, and when she had none loft, to take her jewelry and clothing, by pawning which to raise funds for himself. She came to Now York, and ho pursued her. At last his con duct became so unendurable that ■ she was compelled to disclose her own shame, arid her husband sent her to a private insane asylum op Dong Island. Ho persecutor immediately sued out a writ of habeas-corpu.i for her re lease, which brought the whole case before the public: when she was sent to her rela tions in the South. That young northern .gentleman was Gardner Furniss, and the other day Justice Quackonhush, here, grant ed an application on the part of a Dr. .1. V, Dodine trt send this young fellow tothe Blnorri ingdalo Insane Asylum. So much tor. his career. Is it'not strange how justice milt sometimes return “ the poisoned chalice ” to the lip of the poisoner, though it seem an event so wholly improbable ? ' Scene in A Sanctum.— .Kutorsalargostrong man, with a cow-hidn in Ilia hand, “Is the editor'in ?" “ Ho is.” “You?” “Yes.” “I have como to settle with yon.” “ Well, (oditordraws a revolver) go ahead.” “I have taken yonr paper now about a year.” “Well.” (Capping his pistol.) “ An article in your last issuefeditor cooks his pistol) has. convinced riio, sir, that —yon —incod— " I “ I deny yoiir right to give it—die cautious, sir.” Give yon vchat ?” A thrashing.” “ Why. no, my dear sir, I camo to pay in advance for another year.” Tho editor Trilled. BC?”Tncitiia says; “In tho early ages man lived a life of innocence and simplicity."— Upon this ft critic remarks ; “ When was tins period of Innocence?— The first woman went astray, The very first man that was born in the world killed tbo second. When did the time of simplicity begin?” DT/* Lieut. li. A. Nelms, of Georgia, (a reb el officer,) reported as filled at the Santa Rosa fight, was a member of the Charleston Contention, and a most devoted Union man. Whpn twenty-six of the Georgia delegation acceded from, the Convention, he was, the- ten who refused to vacate their scats, but' remained in the Convention to its close. fiOiYB INSANE. We seb' pride in ’ everybody but ourselves; ET/ 5 " The greatbstdifficulty, that an artist has in, drav ingCrowds is to get them to sit. d£7“ Prosecution follows righteousness; tho Scorpion-is next in succession to Libra. . . To keep fish-from smelling—cut off their noses. " ' Two can make love, but it takosthree to make a wedding. He who turns from evil does himself (T good turn.-■ i (C 7” Don't marry an attorney; it must be sad thing to bo bung to a limb of the law. . 0"7“ Why is icd in a thaw like philanthro py ?—Because it gives in all directions. fiSy-Miss Jones soys she only wears crino line for form's sake. Persevere and you will prosper, he Up right and you will bo esteemed. iln.ee— norant people are m discovering imaginary offronts. - ■ JC7” “ Solitude" sweetened,” as tbo child, said when ho was shat up in the cellar where" there was plenty of molasses. DC7* What word would give sorrow to tho. mechanic and joy to "the prisoner ?—Discharg ed. O” Whatis that word of bnesyllable which if the-first letters are taken from it, becomes a word of two. syllables? Plague—Ague." O” Why is a young lady just from hoard school like a building committee ?-Because she is ready to received proposals, . . • : o”“Why did you retreat in the face of the enemy?” “ You see sir, I have got a re treating nose, and of course I have to follow it.” ... O’A Young lady shouldn’t bo Unhappy because tihe isn’t quite as.tall os she would like to he. It is a very easy thing to get “ spliced.” KT'D’lsrs -li, the English statesman and writer, is said to bo completely hrofcon.down in mind and body, by tho use of opium, and is nearly imbecile. . 8®“96,998 barrels of coal oil have been transported oyer the Pennsylvania Railroad to an eastern market during the nine months of the year ending September 30. B®* Sara Slick says ho would rather break a yoke of steers any day, than try to make rip a . .quarrel between ..two, women when they have got their dander up. JrvF.N'nx Atbocitv. —“Aunty, I saw a gentleman in the hotel reading-room busy with two volumes at cnee,” “ Why Charley how was that 7 “ He had a volume of Dickens in one hand, and a volume of smoko a cornin’ out of his mouth,”. O’"Mr. Yanoy has made a lively scn»afion in Paris, among Americans, by solemnly ad vising a cotton speculator to “realize’’ with out delay, for "in loss than sixty days Eng land will recognize the Southern Confederacy, and break up the blockade,” when, of course, the- “price of cotton must fall.” fl®" At an evening party in Huntindon, Indiana, a few nights since, two young gen tlemen who had boon very enthusiastic Wide Awakes last , fall, but who refused to join » company of volunteers for the war, were seized by the young ladies, arrayed in petti-, coats, and turned into the street. A fearful warning. —Lafayette Journal, Unwritten’Poetry.— ltis stamped upon , the broad blue sky,;—it twinkles in every star, —it mingles in the ocean’s surge, and glit ters in tho dew drop that gems the lily’s bell. It glows in the gorgeous colors of tbo decline of day, and rests in the-blackened crest of the gathering storm-cloud’. It is in the moun tain’s height and in the cataract’s roar, —in the towering oak, and in the tiny flower. — Whore we can sto the band of God, there • V beauty finds her dwelling-place. !T7~ Our friend Jemima Honcytops, is. a queer creature. She’s forty, fair and fat.— Says, sho’ll never get married—never. Says, tlio.men arc ‘ brutes.’ The fact is, Jemima, like somd others of her adorable sex, marked' herself at too high figures in her youthful 1 days. Theconscquonoe was, the goods did’nt soil. Tlioy’v-o since soured. Lot the fate of Jemima bo a warning to nil young ladies.— Don’t bo foolish, maidens, but become sensi ble wives. E®* Throe or four times a couple appear ed beforo a clergyman for marriage; but the bridegroom was drunk, and the reverend gontiCmen refused to tie the knot. _ On the last occasion he expressed his surprise that s . respectable-looking girl was not ashamed-to appear, at the'altar with' a man in sueh< s state. The poor girl broke into tears, and’ • said shecoula not help it. “ And why pray 7” “ Keeaiiso, sir,'lie won't conio whon ho is so ber,*’ I Bab-mEir Against BnoTiran. —Ontheooca'- sion of the recent buttle at Beaufort, the trite cnmmnn-plnceism about 1 brother being arrayed against,brother ’ was literally reali sed, Captain Porcivnl Drayton, of onr gun- 1 boat Pocahontas, and Brigadier General Drayton, the the rebel forces on shore, are brothers, but though the fire from tho bat teries, was at times concentrated on tho Poca hontas, and though tho Pocahontas took her - share in tho battle with all possible fiery 010-’ - qnonco, tho brothers are guiltless of fraternal blood, for both escaped unhurt. A Romantic Stokv.— Capt. Wilkes, the l hero of the San Sacinto, years ago fell in love with a pretty girl who consented to become bis wife, but a rival, by poisoning the mind of her parents against him, succeeded in 1 breaking off tbo match. The girl protested : against accepting tho hand of her new lover,,, but finally yielded to the wish of her parents, and became his wife. Ycarspassed on, Capt.' Wilkes remaining a batchelor, and the .next Time ho meifTiis rival be was a prisoner onr' board his ship, a traitor to his country and a rebel against tho flag tho honest tar had ’ spent his life'in defending. That rival was '■ John Slidell, one of'the rebel ambassadors recently arrested while (in their way to Eu rope. 'There are many fictitious stones ef romance-that have pot half the interest ns’ this. ■ -V-i-F 1 ' i . v - 0-t NO. 28,