• - ." _ _ :.; •• : - . - " t t . • El EZZi ~ 13411=L; WEBllrf, Editor: and Proprietor. VOLUME XXVII, NUMBER 433 PUBLISHED BURY SATURDAY MORNING. WO- in 'ltorthern Ciiitral Railroad Corti: • Upwsr"—e-Building,florth-tomtcorrim. Front and Walnut streets- Terms of Subscription. oisc Copy per i annum, If paid in advance, Il i all " f not paid within three .montba from eomnieneeraent of the year, 200 sv• '4'4emi:ems eacc:,&binesr. Stcrsubseription received foie less time than six gnonthei •and no paper will be discontinued coastal - strrearages are paid, unless at the option of the pub.. Haber. isillirMoney may be remitted by mall at the publish; risk. Rates of -Advertising. a square Ell tines) threeeek, 0 0 ast weeks, 75 each subsequent insertiOn, .10 - (124tiorn ) one week. 50 three weeks, 100 each subsequent insertion, •Z LIE Larger advertisements in proportion. A liberal discount will be made to quarterly, half yearly or yearly ad vertisers,who are strictly confined to their business. Drs Joliss & Rohrer, AYE associated in the Practice of Nedi Heine. Coltital•ia, April 15t,1856-1f DR: G. W. MIFFLIN, D'ficTWITIST, Locust 'street, near the Pod 01 e. Colombia, Pa. Columbia. May 3, 1858. H. M. NORTH, A TTORNEI AND CPUNSELLOR AT LAW. ~,D,_ Columbia, Pa. Collection*, 1. romptly made, in Lancaster and - York 'Counties. Columbia, May 4,1850. 3. W. FISHER, Attorue-y, and Counsellor at Law, Cfca - cll-22: 11 aorlety September 0, lIMW•it GEORGE J. SMITH, WIIOLESILE and Retail Bread and Cake Baker.—Constantly on hand a variety of Cokes, too numerous to mention; Crackers; Soda, Wine, Scroll, Sugar Biscuit; Confectionery of every description, l.c. Li3eusT STREET, Feb. Between the Bank and Franklin Rouse. B.F. ELPPOLD & CO., .. .. - GENERAL. FORWARDrNG AN!) COMMIS "SION MERCHANTS, 4 1 1 a, RECEIVERS CM' , • €OA LAND PRODUCE, .And Deliverers on any point on the Columbia and Philadelphia Railroad. to York and Baltimore and to Pittsburg; DBALERS IN COAL FLOUR AND GRAIN, WHISKY' AND BACON, have just received n large lot of Monongahela Rectified Whiskey, from Pittsburg, of which they will keep a supply constantly on hand. at low prices. Nos. 7, 2 s ad 0 Canal Basin. Columbia, January 27.1854. OATS FOR-SALE J..? THE BUSHEL, or in larger qnantities, at Nos. 1,2 &.6 Canal Basin. E. F. APPOLD & CO. Columbia, January 26, 1850 Tnst Received, finf i 50..,mh.ig 1 Nago'leGsitalji;;.1 Retell Zoile t o J. er F ; entablnOment. Front went, two doom below the AVitshington !loupe, Columbia- [October 25, 1850. Just Receive 20 RHOS. 8110OLDERS 15 T/K.ItCES For sale by - A.PPOLD & Nos. 1,2 and 0, Canal Bairn. Colombia, October 18,1850. Ra.pp's Gold Pens. CONSTANTLY on hand, an, assortment of t here celebrated' PENS. Persona in want of a good article are invited to call and examine them. Columbia; June 30, 1855. JOHN FELIX. Just Received, LIEGS LOT of Children's Carriages, Gigs, Rocking Horses, Wheelbarrows ' Prenel-, etw ursery Swings, &c. GEORGE, J. SAIITIL 'April 19, 1856. Locust street. " CIIIIVA and other Fancy Articles , too numerous to mention, for sale by G. J. ShilTll, Locust street, between the Bank and Franklin Goose, Columbia, April 19, 1856. • ' - . IA.III andersigne have been appointed agents for the sale of Cook & Co's GOTTA PER PENS, warranted not to corrode; in e laslicity they almost equal the quill. SAYLOR & hteDONALD. Columbia Jan. 17, 1857 • Just Received, A BBAUTIFUL lot of Lamp atter Shades, viz Roses,: Tie _Lk. wine, Volcano, Dram. B Fly. Red and the new French Fruit Shade, which can beam in the winlhw *Me Golden Mortar Drug Store. November 29,1826. AMGR lot of Shaker Corn, from the Snakes settlement in Nsw Yolk, lust received, at 11.SUYDAN&SON'S Colombia, Dec. 20,1856 gilt BB'S. lour Batchelor's, Peter's and sgyptiap haledyes, ssarranted to color the hair any destredabade, withom injury to the skin. For sale by . -FR. WILLIAMS, May 10i ront st.., Columbia, 'Pa. VASS 4 111011IPSON , 8 justly celebrated Com mercial and other Gold Pena—the beet in the znarket-:-Jaat received. P. SHREINER. Columbia,Anril 28,11356. - Girrt& FAMILY FLOUR, by the barrel, for JUJ sale by B. F. APPOLD a CO, celanibia,/nne 7. Nos. 1,2 and 6 Canal Basin. • • , HY should anypemin do without a Clock, wher:Ony can be had forsl,so end onwards. at SHREINER'S? Columbia, April 9£1,1855. S • APONEFA L or Concentrated Lye, IN.-MlL king Soap. • 1 lb. la auffriient for one barrel of -Soft Soap, or . 11b.f0r.9 lbs. Bard Soap. Fall dire°. =Aril' be gavenat the Counter-for making Solt, and Lead Soaps. -./I T 4t y e r. vnuualdi• !WNW*, *Arch-31, , ,Llllffit lot of Baskets; Brooms, baciets •a, So., for male by it. SUYDAM di SON. . WElXEL'llinstantauseans ,Yeastor Baking Powder, for sale by H. SUYDAM k SON. 2eDOZEN BlKOkfla - ,,UPBOXVi CIIEFAE. For 1411%liejtkobY. D. F. APFOLD k. CO. Cbitzil 7, bar 25, leth. B. • • • A 317,PERIOR aeticlo.of P.Atiptr a Othlizair Mir 10,1E56. 'Front Street, Columbia, Poi TUIST RECIVVEID, a large andwell Wonted ..tanety 4t), ofiitraghes, connisting4a part of %we, Hair, Cloth. Crumb, ?,ail, Hat and Teeth Brushes, and for sale by _Ft._WILLIAMS. rnontlansatr.otaanbnin Pa- Marelrike,• l s# RlOR•anleto orTOMICBEIOESITTEF4 A l fg4tTinier noted Keepers, for %are by A. WILLIAMS, Front street, Colombia. " %ay 10,1856 MiIETSERS4I. elerars on haiid aad co eby S„ WILLIAMS, ' Wa3 , 10,11856. Front Street, Cotelimi VST ice -aired, ERZBEI CA 6IPMENP,..aaI foe sate al by R. WILLIAMS; May 1 , 1&8. .Ptosi Street, Paasabia, Pa._ Aft SOARER of Stock Sit the Odd Pelletisi Ha7C seao - ration, an °Erred for sale _by the sobeenber.' I. C. PEARLED.. e,_Mareh 7,19574 I 000 New City Cared Munn and eboakiers, jinn reeelatd and rat sale _ Feb. 31,1857. iLIUTDAM & SON. IMMO $1 SO ~a~~~~, Journal of Music. THE PREACHING or THE TREES. FROM THE GERMAN OF HRORN At Midnight Reno Wimp sileitce reigns Through in the woodland eriaeoz, • Begin the bushes and the <roes To wave and whisper in the breeze, All talking In their places. The Rosebush flames with look of joy, • And perfume breathes in glowing; "A Rose's life is quickly past! Then let me, while ray. time Shall last, Be richly, gaily bkiiving!" The Aspen •Whispenr, lynken day! , • Not the thy glare decetirefh! . Thy sunbeam is a deadly dart, That quivers in the Rose's heart— CheeSentietlx;thro;n4 seethe To stretch her green hands higher; "Up yonder Ilfes pare river flows, So sweetly murmurs, brightly woods, • To that I still aspire!" : The'N'ollrotWoVecii7;27hqtrd3p " glil " F " " " ' :"':274 "My annyaold I let my hair float down-to-thee; Entwine therein thy flowers for ma, As mother her child adornethr ^ • And ne=t the arealthyßlum-treer sighs: "Alas! my treniures emelt me! This load with which my. shoulders gnaw!, Take off—it is not urine alone: • By robbing yon refresh me!" The T•ir-tree speaks in cheerful- mood "A blossom bore Inever; . But steadfastness is all Env more; In summer's heat, in winter's roar, I keep tny green forever!" The proud and lofty Onk-tree speaks: uGod's thunderbolt confounds me: And yet no storm can bow me down, Strength is my stem end strength my crown; Ye weak ones gather round me!" The ivy vine kept close to hint, Her tendrils round hint flinging: - "He who no strength hns . of his own. - Or loves not well to stand alone, - - May to a friend be clinging? AlutthalitaiumaraisdijugoiAbay.aids. Al l 4 suititcs l l29.o lll °A reqPi • : • Low.yvhispered words, upon the air, • While by the grav,e alone stood duns( • - The Cypress mutely weeping. O! might they Teach pne , hum r Mart, These tender - accent's creeping! -What wonder if they do not reach? The trees by starlight only preach, When we.raustineeflyhe gleepipk. gltertizuz_. EDWARD DR'TSDALE. About the year 1708, James Bradshaw and -William Drysdale,' hoth Invalided mas ters of the Royal Navy, cast anchor fox-the remainder of their ,lives at about twelve miles distance froin Exeter on the London ! road. Bradshaiv named his domicile, •an old-fashioned ~straggling building; Riidney, Place, in honor of the admiral in whose great victory he had fought. _Drysdale's smaller; and snugger. dwell igg; afloat halta mile away from Rodney Place, was called Poplar Cottage, and about midway between them stood the Hunfir's Ina, a,road-side public bonne, kept by one Thomas Burn ham, a stout-hearted, jolly-bellied individual; the, comelinCia of -whose rubicund figure head was coneiderably,datnagad, py r the - loss of an eye, of. wbichi, however, it is right tn. say, theestinguishedAight appeared to hare . been transferred ;in undiminished intensity, to its fiery, priereing Allow. The retired masters, who had long known each other, were intimate es brothers; ;notwithstanding that Bradshaw was much the richest of the two, having contrived to pick up a consider able amount of prize money, in addition to a rather large sum inherited from his father. Neither did the difference of- circumstance. oppose, in BradshaW Mon„ the slightest obstacle fo the Union of tie niece and heir ass, Rachel Elford,' with . Edward Drysdale, hie fellow veteran's only surviving offspring. The precedent eenditiori, however, was, that Edward should attain_ permanent rank in the - Royal Navy, and• with this view a mid shipman's warrant was obtained in '9O for the young man then in hie eighteenth year, and he was despatched to sea. The naval profession proved to be, unfor tunately, one for which Edward Drysdale was altogether3pAttmkbyteranerament and bent, ofrnind, and red censequencesfollowed. Ije had been at sea about eighteen months, when news reached England of a desperate, but succesaful, euttlng-out of the boats of the frigate to which he belonged. His name was not mentioned itatha - offioialreport,— but that civildhairdiyhave hoirchnineflltri-77 neither was it in the . list of killed; and wounded. A map . of_the:coast where the fight 'took place waeAproeured;- the-battle wee fought over and, aiel4itinhy, the ,t - tvo, veterans,, and they were,spl: indulging in the pleasures of-the imagination, in the par lor of the "Ilunteetv--lail " When -the-lend 4-- lord entered4garTirlih paper in his hand,'„WPctiVunrAiia' t ti f 4hrell• -bir single orb Of = iiiioniliiie'd "nation. " It was' as frem •a. letter writtem,by one of-the frigate' officers, Plain; ly intimating that midshlpman, Dr data had shown, the white feather in the late brush with the .snenair„ 'and- wou:ld bly sent heipe,ky.itiefirst . uPpor‘ruity. thite,stroke: ofpii ir _l.444. ll 4rieiliPeii ticgit4: with- . the,shaß agony which such an' announcement inflicted on the.yotang.tonn's ,1 1 44.17: grWrOgifflcatqW .fitg. rot metrts equally- - thnoderatrielten. quickly rallied. William Dryads:lei noire cvrnantl Two: 01 1 14104, 1 1 41 1* PIPrO -r-impoisObler twil l 1 1 1 7 1 3, 1 1r..t7. - wge_ maledictions, savagely sehoedbylturrihaw ' with whom young Dryidale was ii,,innitt "NO ENTERTAINMENT IS SO CHEAP AS RE.4I/14Oi.NOR ANY PLEASE/AP. SO.LASTINO." COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATTRDAY MORNING, MAY .2„).857. favorite, of the lying lubber that wrote the letter, and the newspaper rascals thatprin td it. Alas! it was but too truel On the- third evening after the appearance of *alarm ing paragraph the two mariners were sitting in the perch of Poplar Cottage, separated only by a flower garden from the main road, conversing upon the sad and constantly re curring topic, when the coach from London came in sight: A youthful figure,•in naval uniibrm, on the box-seat, instantly riveted their attention, as it did that of Rachel El ford who Was standing in the little garden, apparently absorbed till that moment by tire shrubs and. flowers: ' Tbe - eoach.rapidly drew nein., stopped, 'and Edward Drysdale alighted from it. The two seamen, instead of waiting for his approach, hastily arose from their seats and went into the cottage, as math perhaps to avoid the humiliating though compassionate glances of the outside passengers, as from any other motive. The young man" was deadly pale, and seemed to have hardly sufficient strength to move back the light wicket-gate which admitted to the garden. Re held by it till the coach had passed on, and then turned with a beseech ing, half-reproachful look' towards Rachel. She, poor girl, was as much agitated as himself, and appeared to be eagerly scan ning his countenance, as if hopeful of read, ing there . a contradiction of the dishonoring rumor that bad got abroad. In answer to his niuto appeal, she stepped quickly 40- wards him, clasped his• proffered .hand in both hers, and with a faint and trembling. voice ejaculated— " Dear, dear Edviartll It is not true—l am sure it is not, that you—that you—" "That I, Rachel, have been disthissed the naval service, as unfit to serve his majesty, is quite true," rejoined Edward Drysdale, slowly, arid with partially recovered calm— "quite true." "The young woman shrunk indignantly from hits; , fire glanced in her suffused eyes, and her`light, elegant figure appeared to grow and dilate with irrepressible scorn, as this avowal fell upon her . ear. "A coward!" she vehemently exelainied; "you that—but no," she added, giving away again to grief and tenderness, as she looked upon the'fine intelligent countenance of herlevrey, "it can-' not be; there 'must ,he ,soMe„erior—some . mistake. It is impossible!" "There it error andmistake,llaehel; but the world will never, I fear, admit so•muoh. But oome, let us in; you go with'me!? We -will not follow them until the first outbreak of angry excitement is past; till the father's passionate, heart-broken • re proaches. have subsided to' a more patient, subdued, faintly-hopeful sorrow, and Ms:: label's wavering faith in the manhood of her betrothed - his regained something of its old firmness. 'Entering there, we shall find that only hli; Bradshaw has remained ob stinately and contemptuously deaf to what the young man has falteringly urged in vindication of his behavior in the unhappy affair which led to his dismissal from the service. Ho bad, it appeared, suddenly fainted at the sight of the hideous carnage in which, for the first time in his 'Efe, ho found himself involved. Itltou...have.s.lettor.pvytomtus - - tabs Otway," said *r...Drysdale, partially raising his head from 1411 ) ands, in -which it had been buried while his son wits speak ing.." - is. to". Rachel; I cannot see the words." The note was directed to' Mr. Drysdale, whom Captain Otway personally knew, and was no doubt kindly intended to soften the bloW, the return of his son under such cir cumstances must inflict. Although deciding that Edward Drysdale was unfit for the naval profession, ho did not think that the faihire of the young man's physical nerve, in one of the most arduous-encounters that had ocauriedAuring the - War,.wai attribu table to •cleficiency of true courage; and as a proof that it was not, Captain Otway men tioned that the young man had jumped overboard during half a gale of wind, and when night was falling, and saved,-at MIIOII peril to himself, a seaman's life. This was the substance of the. note. As soon as Ra ohel ceased reading, Mr. Drysdale looked deprecatingly in his friend's face, and mur mured, "You hear?" • • "Yes, WiMara Drysdale, I do. I never doubted thatyour eon was a good swimmer, no more than I do that toward Means coward, and that all theletters'in the alphabet can not spell - it to mean anything else. COme Rachel," added the grim, unreasoning, iron tempered veteran, "let us bo gone. And God blese r aiidlt- aloe possible, comfort ye, old friend. Good-byel No, thank ye,. young . sir!" he.continned, with renewed fierceness, as Edward:Dryidale snatched at his hind. "That hand-iris once grasped by Rodney, in some 0613.•"anotber business as the letter speaks-of,whiti.ite.owner did not. faint!— It must not be touched by you!" • : The elder Drysdale took not long..after , -wards to his bed. '-'He bad been ailing for setae time; 10 no question that =edifica tion at his • son's failure in the profession to *Mato had with fro much-pride devoted hinOelperto - -molten the 'springs of life, and accelerate his end, Which took place abont.Eir months after Edward's return home. Illiftither and•son had become an tirelrreeopoiled with each othei, and aiinosi the kisi.accents which faltered from the lips of the dyingeeamani were a prayer tolitrad shairto forget 'whit luid,rassed, 'and - renew .141 sanction to the marriage of Edward end .his niece. The stern man was inexorable; and his pitiless reply - vists,j - thitt he would , a thousand times rather fOliciW Ititchel to lief grave. The constancy, however;_ of the young people was not, however, - to be subdued, and something more than - e year after-Mr. Drysdale's death they zriii . rked; their present,' 'resources, the rents - about one hundred' and twenty pounds per annum—of a nun •ber of small tenements at'Exeter. They removed to within three miles of thlit•city, and dwelt theye in stdificiqupy and peace, for about five years, whep exigencies,of a fast• increasing family „induced them to, dispose, not very advantsgeously, of their . 'cottage property, and enlark the. proceeds in a showy speculation, promising, of course, immense results, and really ending, in the brief space of six months, in their utter ruin. Edward Drysdale found himself, in lieu of his golden hopes,, worth about two hundred pounds less than nothing. The usual consequences followed. An unde fended suit-at-law speedily reached the stage at which execution might be issued, and unless a considerable sum of money could be instantly raised, his furniture would be seized under a fi. fa., and sacrificed to no purpose. One only possible expedient remained, that of once more endeavoring to soften the obduracy of Mr. Bradshaw.' This it was finally determined to attempt, and Mr. and Mrs. Drysdale set off by a London morning I coach, upon the well-nigh-hopeless specu lation. .They alighted at the Hunter's Inn, where Drysdale remained, whilst his wife proceeded alone to Rodney Place. Thomas Burnham wits friendly and good•natured as ever. Tne old mariner, he toll Drysdale, was visibly failing, and his chief amusement seemed to be scraping together and hoarding up money. James Berry, a broken-down tailor, and a chap, according to Burnham, who knew how many beans• make five as well as any man in Devonshire, had been for some time valet, gardener, and general factotum at Rodney Place, rind appeared to exercise great influence over Mr. Bradshaw. The only other person in the establishment was the old cook, Margery - Deans; who, never otherwise since he had known her than desperately hard of hearing, was now become as deaf as a stone. Drysdale, it was afterwards remembered, -listened to all this with eager attentiorioind was .especi - • • inquisitive_ and talkative respecting Mr. Bradshaw's hoarding propensities, and the solitary, unprotected state in which he lived. Mrs. Drysdale was :long gone; but the tremulous hopes which her long stay called feebly forth, vanished at the sight of her pale, tedrful,.yee resolved aspect. "It is useless, Edwaid;" shO murmured, with her arms cast lovingly.. about her . husband's neck, and looking in his face with far more lavish expression of affection than when, with orange blossoms in her hair, she stood a newly-consecrated wife, beside Lim; "it is useles to expect relief from my uncle, save upon the heartless, impossible condition you know of. But let us home. God's heaven is still above our heads, though clouds and darkness rest between. We will trust in Him, Edward, and fear not So bravo a woman should bate been matched with a stout-hearted man; but this, unhappili,,Wee not the case. Edward Drys dale was utterly despondent, and he listened, as his wife was afterwards fain to admit to herself and others, with impatient reluc tance to all she said as they journeyed homewavds, save when the condition of help spokeit of, namely, that she should abandon her husband, and take up her abode with her children' at Rodney Place, was discus sed—by her indignantly. Once, also, when she mentioned that the old Will in her favor was not yet destroyed, but would be, her uncle threatened, if she did not soon return, a bright, almost fiery expression seemed to Leap from his• usually mild, reflective eyes, and partially dissipate the thick gloom which mantled his features. This occurred on a winter's day in early March, and the evening vtp to seven o'clock hid passed gloomily away with the Drys dales, when all at once the . husband, start ing from a profound reverie, said he would take a walk as far as Exeter, see the attor ney in the suit against him, and, if possible, - gain a gam a little time, for the arrangement of the debt. His wife acquiesced, • though with small hope of any favorable'resalt, and the strangely abstracted man left the house. Ten"o'clock, the hear, ,by - which Edward Drysdale bad promised to return, chimed from n.-dial on the mantle-piece. Mrs. Dr's dale trimmed the fire,' lit the•erindles, which for economy's sake sbe„liati; extingujahed, and had the frugal supper ltqg. He came not. Eleven o'clock! SPhzt can be detaining him so late? Twelvel—half-past Rachel Drysdale was jest a bout . hi'bid the servant-maid "wha win sitter*. up in • the kitchen; go to bed, when, the sound of car riage wheels going cowar ds Faiter stopped at the door. lt was a return post chaise, and brought Edward Dryidale. lie stag gored, as if. intoxicated, into the kitcthen, reached doww a half-bottle-of brandy -from s cupboard, and took. it to zha past-boy, oho immediately drove off. Anne Moody, 'the servant girl, was greatly startled by her master's appearance; he sbe - after- Wards stated,liiere ih`tr : ebliirrAit a; whited ,-than of goal[ and l'ilookand ibook and '"eowered," as if he had the ague. 'Mrs. PrisAkale. flt*-AhlfkitcheFl , sod stood at her husband, White. /dad of way (I am,tratracribing literally from , the- girl's : statement); till the outer door was fastened,-when they both went up stairs into a front_si,tting-room.. Curiosity induced. Anne Afootly..to'.follow,, , and she heard, just as ,the door-closed upon them, Drysdalesay,;;lcott have 4 not been to, Exeter, lam ; This was said in a. nervous, ehalcingyoice, and her master re 7 plied' in the same- tone r ”No; I changed my mind," or words to that effect. Then there was a quick whispering ,for a minute or two,-, interrupted, by, a half -stifled. cry_ or scferup frono_Mrs. Misdate. .4 sort of hub- bal:! ,of-words followed, which the girl, a very ,person of her class by-the by,. . c ‘ oald. not bear, -or at. least coaldnot make out, till Mr. Drysdale said in a tender, slow way, "You, Rachel—the children are provided for; but 0 God! at what a dread ful price!" Anne Moody, fearful of detec tion, did not wait to hear more, but crept stealthily up stairs to bed, as her mistress had ordered her to do, when she left the kitchen. On the following morning the girl found her master and mistress both up, the kitchen and parlor fires lit, and breakfast nearly over. Mr. Drysdale said he was in a hurry to get to Exeter, and they had not thought it worth while to call her at unsea sonablo hours. Both husband and wife looked wild and haggard, and this, Moody, when she looked into their bed-chamber, was not at all surprised at, as it was clear that neither of them had retired to rest.— One thing. and the other, espezially kissing and fondling the children over and over again, detained Mr. Drysdale till half-past eight o'clock, and then, just as he was . leaving the house, three ,men confronted him! A constable of the name of Parsons, James Berry, Mr. Bradshaw's servant, and Burnham, the landlord of the Hunter's Inn. They came to arrest him on the charge of burglary and murder! Mr. Bradshaw bad been found, early in the morning, cruelly stabbedto death beside his plundered strong box! I must pass lightly over the harrow ing scenes which followed—the tumultuous agony of the wife, and the despairing as severations of the husband, impossible to be implicitly believed in even by that wife, for thecriminatiag evidence was overwhelming. Drysdale had been seen skulking about Rod ney Place till very late, by both Burnham and Berry.' In the room through which he must have passed in going and returning from the scene of his frightful crime, his hat had,..been found; and it was now dis covered that ho had taken away and worn home one of Berry's—no doubt from hurry and inadvertance. In addition to all this, a considerable sum of money in gold and silver, inclosed in a canvas bag, well known to have belonged.to the deceased, was found upon his person! It appeared probable that the aim of the assassin had been only rob bery in the first instance, for the corpse of the unfortunate victim was found clothed only in a night-dress. The fair inference,' therefore seemed to he, that the robber, dis turbed at his plunder by the wakeful old seaman, had been compelled, perhaps, re luctantly, to add the dreadful crime of mur der to that which he had originally contem plated. The outcry through the country was terrific, and as Edward Drysdale, by the - advice of Mr. Sims, the attorney, who subsequently instructed Mr. Prince, reserv ed-his defence, there appeared "to be nothing of a feather's weight to oppose to the tre mendous mass of circumstance arrayed against the prisoner. And when, upon the arrival of the King's commission at Exeter, Mr. Prince received a very full and carefully drawn brief in de fence—a specious, but almost wholly unsup ported story of the prisoner's, appeared all I that could be relied upon in rebuttal of the evidence for the crown. According to Ed ward Drysdale, ho merely sought Mr. Brad shaw, upon the evening in question for the purpose of concluding with that gentleman an arrangement for the separation of him self from his wife and children,.and their domiciliation at . Rodney Place. It was further averred, that he was received with greater civility than he expected; that the interview was a long one, during which he, Drysdale, had seen nobody but Mr. Brad shaw, although he believed the aged and deaf cook was in the kitchen; that be had arranged that -Mrs. Drysdale and his chil dren should be early on the morrow with her uncle, and that lie had received the money found upon his person and at his house from the deceased's own hands, in order to pay the debt and costs in the suit wherein execution was about to be 'levied on his furniture, and that the residue was to be applied to his; the prisoner's own use; that the expressions deposed to by Anne Moody, and his own and Mrs. Drysdale's emotion after his return home, which had told so heavily against him in the. tatatniva dons before the magistrates; were perfectly reconcilable witlrtbis statement—as indeed they were—,-and did not, therefore,, bear the frightful meaning that had been attached to them. With respect to the change of hats, that might easily have happened, because his hat bad been left on entering the ball passage, and in his hurry in coming out by the same way, ho bad no doubt mistaken Berry's for his own; but ho solemnly .denied having been in the - room, or near, the part of the'house whore his hat was alleged to have been found. This was the gist of the explanation; but unfortunately, it was not sustained by any receivable testimony in any material ptistio; Oar. True, Mre. Drysdale, whom every. $1,50 PER YEAR IN ADVANCE; $2,00 IF NOT IN ADVANCE bit;dy fully believed, declared that this ac count exactly coincided with what her hus band told her immediately on arriving home in the post-chaise—but what of that? It was not what story the prisoner had told, nor how many times he had told it, that could avail, especially against the heavy he probabilities that weighed upon his, at first view, plausible statement. How was it that, knowing Mr. Bradshaw's almost insane dis like of himself, he did not counsel his wife to niake terms witliher uncle, preparatory to her; ,returning to Rodney Place? And was it at all likely that Mr. Bradshaw, whose implacable humor Mrs. Drysdale had experienced on the very day previous to the murder, should have so suddenly softened towards the man he so thoroughly hated and despised? I trow not. And the first con sultation wore a wretchedly dismal aspect, till the hawk eye of Mr. Prince lit on nn assertion of Thomas Burnham's, that he hnd gone to Mr. Bradshaw's house upon some particular business at a quarter past twelve on the night of the murder, and had seen the deceased nlire at that time, who had answered him as he frequently did, from his bed-room window. "Rodney Place," said Mr. Prince, "is nine miles from Drys dale's residence. I understood you to say, Mr. Sims, that Mrs. Drysdale declares her husband was at home at twenty minutes to one?" "Certainly she does; but the wife's evi dence, you are aware, cannot avail the hus band." "True; but the servant girl! the driver of the post-chaise! This is a vital point, and must be cleared up without delay." I and Williams, Sims' clerk, set off in stantly to see Mrs. Drysdale, who had not left her room since her husband's apprehen sion. She was confident it was barely so la - ta as twenty minutes to one when the Bost-chaise drove up to the door. Her evi dence was, however, legally inadmissablo, and our hopes rested on Anne Moody, who was immediately called in. `11• er answer was exitsperating. She had been asleep in the kitchen, and could not positively say whether it was twelve, one, or two o'clock when her master reached home. There was still's chance left—that of the post-chaise , driver. He did not, we found, reach Exeter, a distance of three miles only from Mr. Drysdale's, till a quarter to three o'clock, and was then - much the worse for liquor.— . So much for our chance of proving an alibi. There was one circumstance perpetually harped upon by our bright one-eyed friend of the Hunters' Inn—Cyclops, I and Wil liams called him. Witat had become of a large sum, in notes, paid, it was well known to Mr. Bradshaw, three or four days before his death? What also of a ruby ring, and some unset precious stones he had brought from abroad, and which he had always es timated, rightly or wrongly, at so high a price? Drysdale's house and garden had been turned inside out, but nothing had been found, and so, for the matter, had Rod ney Place, and its two remaining inmates, had been examined with the like ill success. Burnham, who was excessively dissatisfied with the progress of affairs, swore there was an infernal mystery somewhere, and that he wouldn't sleep till he had ferreted it out.— That was his business, ours was to make the best of the wretched materials at our dispo sal; but the result we all expected followed. The foregone conclusion of the jury that were empannehal in the case was just about to be recorded in a verdict of guilty, when a note was handed across to Mr. Sims. One Mr. Jay, a timber merchant, who had heard the evidence of the postillion, desired to be examined. This the judge at once assented to, and Mr. Jay deposed, that having left Exeter in his gig upon pressing business, at about two o'clock on the morning of the murder, he had observed a post-chaise at the edge of a pond about a mile and a half out of the city, where the jaded horses had been, he supposed, drinking. They were standing still, and the post-boy, who was inside, and had reins to drive with passed through the windows, was fast asleep—a drunken sleep, it seemed—and ho, Mr. Jay, had to bawl for some time, and strike the chaise with his whip, before ho could awake the man, who at last, with a growl and a curse, drove on. He believed,-but would not like to positively swear, that the postillion ho had heard examined was that man. This testi mony, strongly suggestive as it was, his lordship opined did not materially affect the case; the jury concurred, and a verdict of guilty was pronounced,-and recorded amidst the death-like silence of a hushed anxious auditory. The unfortunate convict staggered visibly beneath the blow, fully expected as it must have been, and a terrible spasm convulsed his featuress and shook his frame. It passed away; and his bearing and speech, when asked what be had to say why sentence of death should not be pronounced according to law, was not without a certain calm dig nity and power, whilst his tones, tremulous it is true, were silvery and unassuming as a child's. "I cannot blame the gentlemen of the jury," he said. "Their fatal verdict is, I am sure. as conscientious as God and my. self know it to be erroneous—false) Circum stances are, I feel, strangely arrayed against me; and it has been my fate through life to be always harshly judged, save only by one whose truth and affection have shed over my chequered existence the only happiness it has ever known. I observed. too, the tell ing sneer of - the prosecuting counsel, eon- [WHOLE NUMBER, 1,377. fleeting the circumstances under which I left the nary with the coictircUcc of the deed of which I stand here accused—convicted, I suppose I should say. I forgive that gen tleman his cruel sneer as freely as I do yon, gentlemen of the jury, your mistaken var diet—you, my lord, the death-sentence you are about to pronounce. The manner in which I hope to pass through the brief, but dark and bitter passage lying betwixt me and the grave, will, I trust, be a sufficient answer to the taunt of cowardice; and the I future vindication of my innocence, not for my own, .but my wife and children's sake, I confidently leave to Him into whose hands I shall soon, untimely, render up my spirit. This is all I hare to say." The prisoner's calm, simple, unhurried words produced a marvellous effect upon the 1 court and auditory. The judge, Chief Baron Macdonald, a conscientious and somewhat nervous man, paused in the act of assuming the black cap, and presently said, rather hastily, "Let the prisoner be removed; I will pass sentence to-morrow." The court thou immediately adjourned. I was miserably depressed in spirits, which the cold, sleety weather that greeted us on emerging from the hot and crowded court considerably increased. I was think ing—excuse the seeming pathos—l was only a clerk and used to such tragedies; I was thinking, I say, that a glass of brandy-and water might not be amiss, when whom should I rudely jostle against but Cyclops, alias Thomas Burnham. lie was going the same way as myself, in prodigious haste, his eye bright and darning as a live coal, and his whole manner denoting intense ex citement. "Is that you?" he broke out.— "Come along then, and quick, for the love of God! i'Ne missed Sims and his clerk, but you'll do as well. perhaps better." I had no power, if I had the inclination, to refuse, for the enthusiastic man seized me by the arm, and hurried me along, at a tremendous rate, towards the outskirts of the city.— "This is the place," he exclaimed, as ho burst into a tavern parlor, where two trunks had been deposited. "He's not come yet," Burnham went on, "but the conch is to call for him here. He thinks to be off for Lon don this very night." "Whom are you talking of? Who's off to London to-night?" "James Berry, if be's clever enough! Look there." "I see; 'James Berry, passenger, London' These, then, are his trunks I suppose?" "Right my boy; but there is nothing of importance in them, sly, steady-going Mar gery has well ascertained that. You know Margery—but hush! here he comes." Berry—it was he—could not repress a nervous start, as he unexpectedly encounter ed Burnham's burly person and fierce glare. "You here!" he stammered, as ho me chanically took a chair by the fire. "Who would have thought it?" "Not you, Jim, I'm sure; it must be, therefore, an unexpected pleasure. I've dome to have a smoke and a bit of chat with I you, Berry—there isn't a riper berry than you are in the kingdom—before you go to jLondon, Jim—do you mark?—before you go to London. Ha, ha! Ho, ho! But, zoundel how pale and shaky you're looking, and be fore this rousing fire, too! "D—n thee, vil- I lain!" shouted Burnham, jumping suddenly I up from his chair, and dashing his pipe to fragments on the floor. "I can't play with thee any longer. Tell me—when did the devil teach thee to stuff coat-collars with the spoils of murdered men, eh?" A yell of dismay escaped Berry, and he made a desperate rush to get past Burnham —but in vain. The fierce publican caught him by the throat, and held him by a grip of steel. "You're caught, scoundrel! nicked, trapped, found out, and, by whom, think you? Why, by deaf, paralytic Margery, whose old eyes have never wearied watch ing you from the hour you slew her good old master till to-day, when you dreamed yourself alone, and she discovered the mys tery of the coat-collar." "Let me go!" gasped the miscreant, down whose pallid cheeks drops of agony were streaming. "Take all, and let me go." A fierce imprecation, followed by a blow, replied to the despairing felon. A consta ' ble, attracted by the increasing uproar, soon arrived; the thick coat-collar was ripped, ; and in it was found a considerable sum in Exeter notes, the ruby ring, and other valu ables well known to have belonged to Mr. Bradshaw. Berry was quickly lodged in gaol. A true bill was returned next day by the grand jury before noon, and by the. time the clock struck four, the murderer was, on his own confession; convicted of the foul crime of which a perfectly innocent man had been, not many hours before, pro- nounced guilty! A great lesson this was felt to be at the time in Exeter, and in the western country generally. A lesson of the watchfulness of Providence over innocent lives, of rebuke to the self-sufficing infalli bility of men, however organized or empan nailed; and of patience under unmerited obloquy and rebuke. Edward Drysdale was, I need hardly say, liberated by the King's pardon—pardon for an uncommitted offence; and he, and his true-hearted wife, the heiress of her uncle, aro still living, I believe, in competence, and harmony. geroJack, year trite is not so pensive 8.5 she used to be."Well—a—hureph—no, she has left that off, some time ago, and turned ex pensive.'
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