~...... i., .., A s-• 1 ~..,• • ~.,:- . .,-.:••..44-. . „ k , , .. if T r_ . .. , i - ....,. ..--, .... ~..„..; . :...... . , . .. .. . -...,-. ....... ...?"" 1 / •,.. :?...,,,. . • . . . . : . .. _. ~_....,,,_ ... , r .... - . .. .' ' ' '''' .-- ' - .''Lt !- : . :1 . ' -- :: 1-' . ' .:.; " i' :..".• .....1 VC -: : : ... 'l. . „ ... ..., ... 4., . . ~ , • ~ . ' , . ; 1. . 1 - .:". . , -• .• .... .- . . . . . . • .. . . . . - . . --; :: , .. ~ • -.. SAMUEL WRIGHT, Editor and Propr VOLUME XXX, NUMBEI PUBLIStIED EVERY SATURDAY MOR!VING Ojece in Carpet Hall, North-west corner of ' , ,F;•ont and Locust streets. Tomas of Subscription Oar COpyperaanum.if paid its advance, i• 1. sf ital paid will:millirem --muntbsfrorricomtneucemen t oldie year, 200 :416 G7ab is asa. Copy.. 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Monsieur de Mauvrier had married in ear ly life Lady Nora McNeill, the daughter of an Irish peer, whose nobility was undoubted -and so unimpeachable that it had to supply the place of a rent roll, the Earl of Killtnor ris not having a shilling that he could call his own at any given moment that a shilling might happen to be required. how he, the countess, and his numerous family contrived to live, to dross, and the children to he edu cated was a problem none but an Irishman could solve, and one which, even when he had solved i• to his own satisfaction, he could not have explained to any—but an Irishman. Chance, however, appeared to favor the Killarwris race. Her suns, to poor to pur ohnSe eutnmisions in the English army. brave ly entered the French service as volunteers in a re,:iment then going to Algiers. There having distinguished thetn•elve, they soon ruse from the ranks and obtained promotion, which warranted their assuming once more their titles. Lord Cashel, the eldest, formed a strong friendship at this period with one of the bravest young officers of a French regiment quartered near Oran, where he too Was stationed. This officer was M. do Mau. vrier, who accompanied him un his first leave of absence to Ireland, where, entirely devoid of false pride, and with the true Irish insou ciance for appearances, Lord Cashel brought the rich, handsome French captain, who NVII , a count beside, to the magnificent, untidy. disorderly castle of his ancestors, and intro duced him to his joyous, handsome and healthy family, who one and all bailed him with noisy and enthusiastic delight, and welcomed his friend with equal cordiality. and as tn..ch dignity us generous feeling, and an absence of affectation could supply. Amongst all, the French count wits most smitten with the unsophisticated charms Of the Lady Nora Me Neill, whom ho first en countered in a torn muslin frock, upon a sad dleless, unkempt poney: her long black hair streamed in the wind around bar, and from beneath shone two tender dark blue eyes, whilst her deep full coral lips, parted with a loud laugh of glee, revealed an immacu late set of teeth. Her dross too, which . had but the usual length of a muslin frock, was not discreet as a habit, but fortunately ;Atte foot and all that was seen above it was • u beautiful the sweeping skirt was nut to be regretted. ii de Nitturrier, accustomed to the polish ed, elegant, and well brought up young la dies of France, on whom the eye of man was nut allowed t fall, except in the protecting preseace of a mother, was inspired into a profound admiration of this e.centric speci men ors young lady,and before he left Castle Cashel his determination had found words, so that when he left it, it was not as he had come there, with the brother, but with the sister, that very morning converted, by the parish priest, in the tumble down chapel of Cashel, in the midst of the egged and joyful population, from the Lady Nura McNeil into the Countess de Mauvrier. A happy wife she had been, and he a hus band that all Paris envied. A wife, witty, beautiful, intelligent, and noble, who adored but her husband, who, after ten years union, blushed when she heard his step, and thrill_ ed with joy when she touched his band. M. de Mauvrier worshipped his wife, adoring 'her fur her own perfections, and adding to his love, gratitude, as he compared her to the brilliant, frivolous, coquettish wives a round him. But the happiness of the Count and Countess was so excessive probably be cause the happiness of a whole life was des tined to be concentrated in a few years. Their only child bad scarcely attained its third year before the Countess was suddenly snatched away bye ruthless and rapid fever, which left the child an orphan, and Der hus band truly inconsolable. •Zii.'do Mauvrier strove to endure life, and to calm nis sorrow by lavishing his love and his attention upon his Norine; but a child of three years old, with her gentle prattle, could not suffice •to make him forget,or Sll up 'the aching void of his existence, lie re solved to resume active service, and join his two brothers-in-law, one now a General, and the other a Colonel, andboth high in renown and prosperity. During the life-time of the Countess, her sister, Lady Kitty McNeil. had been to Paris, and had there married, to complete the rein of luck of the present generation of Mc Neil. a wealthy Euglishman, whose father had made his millions in some extraordinary and unnameable business, in some unand able alley east of Temple Bar, and who would bare married Lady Anybodey for the plea- EMI Ell sure of hearing the title tacked to his ple bian name. It happened, however, that Lady Kitty was as beautiful as her sister, and somewhat dazzled by the luxuries of her sister's household and the beau monde of P.tris, which she contrasted with the pater nal home, and unwilling to test the effect of the change, rather than return she accepted the hand and fortune of Mr. Dobbs. $1 50 Lady Kitty Dobbs carried things with a high and magnificent hand; she was a faith ful if not a devoted wife,and Mr, Dobbs was perfectly satisfied with the degree of conju gal happiness which fell to his share, and very proud of his wife, Lady Kitty. his Fa ther, the Earl of Killmorris, ,and of his bro ther, General Cashel, whom he als.vay4 per sisted in culling Monsieur le Comte, in order to combine bat pity, as he thought, the En list' and French dignities. Tu Lady Kitty, who of course resided in England, did M. do Mauvrier confide hit young daughter. As for himself, ho found existence endurable only in the active life of his prufessiun. lie remained in Algiers till the war in theCrimest, when he followed his regiment thither, scarcely stiatoing time to see his daughter once in two or three year', when her increasing likeness to her mother recalled in all its vividness the loss ho had sustained. Meunthne Lady Kitty, who had no chil dren of her own, had done more than her duty by her charge. Norine was an RCCGIII. p J6lle 1 person—one whom all admired, one of whom she was proud. A change had come over Lady Kitty, Ti red of wealth an .1 exciting, busy life.she bad, as her beauty began to fade, taken to ro mance and sentiment. Although—good ea sy soul—Mr. D,abbs had never given her one moment's annoyance, or thwarted her in one of her numerous caprices, she begun to talk about kindred souls, loveless mqrringes, atm unappreciative hearts. Lady Kitty, seeing that in Loudon the blood of the Killtnorrises could not entirely corer the ignoble name of Dobbs with its escutcheon, had taken up tier abode chiefly in Paris, varyhig it with residence at Baden-Badon, Kissingen and Carlsbad, and going over to Englund mere ly in time for a &al% Lig-room and a court ball. Niaine and her aunt were sitting one eve ning in the Kursaal :It B.iden-Baden, when Mr, D 'lib., advancing toward his wife, in troduced a gentleman who followed him a.. 11 C.inte tit Lino." Now, 11 Conte d'Urhino, as 31r. Dobhs, pompously persisting in Italian, called him, was exactly such a man as the sound of such it Millie would have evoked--a tins rou2,h hero of romance. Nature had be gun the work by endowing him with extra ordinary beauty, and art had completed it by elegance of manner and of dress. Ile spoke but little, and in a low tone and so impressively that the car dwelt on his words, the emphasis seeming to invest them with more meaning than they at first im plied. In this pathetic and impressive manner he asked Norine to waltz, and her aunt wamhed them as they floated round, so ad mirably matched in size, form and beauty, with extraordinary interest. "What a sympathetic creature he is, this young, noble Count; he has thrown quite a spell over me. Ah! he is, no doubt, the kindred soul of my Nurine. Pray, Mr. Dobbs," she added, turning to her husband. where did you meet with him?" "Who, the Count?" "Yes." "Oh, I was introduced to him just ns ono always is to people here. Ile's a real grand Italian nobleman, a political refugee, exiled for some conspiracy by some tyrant or another. as you know these Italians and Poles always are. Ile isn't worth . a shil ling; JO keep Norine out of his way, Mau crier wouldn't thank us to give him such a son•in-law." "Coarse creature," murmured Lady Kit ty, "coarse creature; however, roar man, of course he puts money before everything; it is his only merit." Lady Kitty had long since forgotten how highly she estimated those riches, and with what glee she had dispensed them. The impression appeared to be mutual, fur the Count d'Urbino was constantly to be seen now at Baden with Lady Kitty and her niece. Norine, though educated in Paris, after the orthodox Parisian fashion, had, however, been allowed by her aunt much of the liberty which is thought not to be in consistent with maiden modesty in a young Englishwoman. She, therefore, had pre sumed to form in her own mind a distinct determination of falling in love, and cer tainly no girl's ideal could surpass Ettore dTrhino. Her aunt was not long in discovering the feeling that existed between these two young people, and by every means in her power mho eneoaraged it. flow delightful to get something to occupy her mind, something to vary the endless monotony of "dressing, dancing. fiddling." True, as her husband said, she know Manorier would be displeased: true d'Urbino was a very bad match; true they knew nothing about him; true, also, kfauvrier destined his daughter for his nephew, the son of his sister, but then all these obstacles and objections were addi tional attractions to the charming mystery, the exquisite agitations of a love that could but gain strength from obstacles thrown in its path. Norine had Item but little of her father, but he had from all vbe knew of hint, be. "NO ENTERTAINMENT IS SO CHEAP AS READING, NOR ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING." GOLUAII3IA, YELNiNSILVANIA, SATUILDAY AURNING, AUGUST 13, 1 come enshrined in her imagination; she loved him with all the warmth of her fervid heart, , Ind with all the vividness of her im agination. She had dwelt on the moment of their re-union as on the brightest point of her existence, and all her plans fur the fu ture had reference to the time when by her tenderness and affection she should supply the place of the wife ho had so tenderly loved, and by recalling him to her mother, console hint fur her loss, compensate him in some measure for the long years of sorrow through which be bad passed. But Norine bad never loved; perhaps this strong though tender feeling she had tin• her fitther had prevented her being easily inter ested in those who bad expressed their ad miration fur her; but there was a peculiar charm, to one generous and imaginative its she was, in the Count d'Crbino. his poverty and his banishment. Ho was, ton, accom plished and agreeable, and deeply enamored of Norine. Lady Kitty, who was the confi dante of both, having never had a love af fair of her own, took a violent intere ;t it the two young potpie. "Ah, Noniae, hap py girl, you have found your kindred soul: 1, alas: shall leave earth without ever hav ing encountered the kindred spirit a hose destiny should have been united to mine." In the midst of all this sentimentality a letter arrived from M. de Mouvrier, sum moning his daughter to Par.s. Ile had given up active service, retired definitely into private life, and looked forward imp..• tioll tly to the moment that should bring his child to his house, to his love. She was :ill he had now in the world; he placed his fa tore happiness in her hands, Ile summoned her to hint with a love of a father and the hope of a man who had lost all else beside. Great was the consternation. Lady Kitty shed floods of tears for d'Urbino, fur Shrine, fur herself, it was for her a perfect luxury of woe. Nurine, ton, wept, but the separa tion was all•she wept for. She would tell all to her father. Ile did not care fin- riches: all he desired was his daughter's happiness; it was but a question of time. lie must consent. Who would not love d'Urbinul— who would nut be proud of hint? But d'Urbino thought otherwise. '•Go," said he to Nurine, "we shall never meet again; fair, lovely and-innocent child, you do not know the world. It has not yet left its mark on yon. You believe you will be faithful to me, but it will not be. You will forget u e, tenounce me; when once you are in your father's arms, in his palace, you will forget—" `•Neverl" "Never, Norine? Then, if you love me— but no, I am ?oor and an exile—you ore rich, prosperous a ndhappy." "Do I deserve such re doubt, Ettore? I am yours, y..,urs only." "Then, will you 'be mine now? Let an irrevocable vow bind us together. Then I shall feel safe." "A secret marriage?" Norine's intuitive delicacy shrunk from such a step, but Lady Kitty was too enchanted to be entrusted with the whole management of so romantic an affair, to let an opportunity pass of dis tinguishing herself, and really acting a novel; ek e nho, for want of excitement, had seriously meditated writing one. Of course Nmine must be married, if she intended to marry Etta re, where was the difference, only it Has a proof of devotion Ettore would never forget, never; and it was worthy of her niece, her Norine, her own pupil, so ethereal. so noble, su relined, so far abme all other girls. Of cause she must be mar rigid; and so, Nurine, perfectly persuaded she was accomplishing the most sublime act of devotion, was one evening, between two quadrilles, carried off by Ettore and her aunt, and married by the priest in one of the small chapels, nut fur from the fashion able hotels of Baden. A few days after this event, Lady Kitty and Mr. Dobbs started for paris. M. do Muuvrier was anxiuu,ly expecting them, and at once installed Norino as mistress of hie house. They lingered but a situ t time in the capital; and then, leaving Lady Kitty and Mr. Dobbs to go to Englund, M. de Mau. vrier set off for his chateau in Auvergne with Norine. M. de Mancrier treated his daughter with a deference, mingled with his affection, that profoundly touched Norine. From the first hour she had been clasped is his arms a feeling of profound remorse had taken possession of her; and now that she was away from the counsels of her aunt, and the fascinations of d'Urbino's presence, she felt r strange revulsion in her feelings, and ar dently wished that she had never encoun tered the man to whom she was now irrevo cably linked. When thoy had been a few weeks together, Captain d'Torimont, LILr cousin, arrived at the chateau. M. de Mauvrier received him with great cordiality and affection. "Norine," said be, on the evening of the Captain's arrival, taking his daughter to a secluded part of the park, "L have found you not only as beautiful, as highly endow ed as I had hoped, but more charming than had ventured to think even in my dreams. But you are also endowed with greater powers of mind than our Parisian girls; you have the frankness and independence which charmed me in your mother; you are, above all, affectionate; therefore, your cousin has been for yaers destined to be your husband. It will be the consolation of my life to see you united. lie has been my companion in arms for some years; he has' learned to love you from me, and will do all to deserve you. Will you try and love him?" Norine's heart beat high; a deep blush overspread her cheek. This was the mo ment to speak of her marriage; but could she crush all his hopes by a word? No; she hesitated, she dared nut; she murmured some insignificant words, and her father continued to converse on their future plans, and of the happiness his daughter was to confer upon him. Towards dark they returned to the house and as Norine ascended the steps of the vestibule, a voice not te on her car. It was d'Cirhino's; rhe knew it at once, and enter ing die saloon she beheld him there. With n trembling step she advanced to warde him, her father by her side. St e felt as thumb her hoar of dmon were come; but Ettore, bolting to her with all proper cetera:My, advanced with a letter to her father. '•Prom Lady Kitty DAbs, M. de Mau vrier. I was pa , sing through Auvergne, nod the lady ww/10 I had known in 11.1,n, tequested toe to see her brother and her uieue." "You are must weleotne, and we shall be proud to show you our Auvergne, of which we are so proud," replied 31, de Mauvrier, and d'Utirbitto accepted the invitation with ail the grace fur which ne was renowned, Noritte thus saw her husband installed under her father's ro..f; she dreaded the moment when they should be alone; she dreaded to speak, she dreaded t' be silet.t, she felt something terrible was impending. D'Urhino, however made himself at horns ho displayed all his powers of faseinuti,w, his charms of manner, and M. de ,:latirier appeared pleased with his so- Fearful of exciting suspicion, Norine care fully avoided her husband; her cousin was Crh constant companion, and she was nut long in discovering that though there might be kindred souls, there were also congenial minds, and that her cousin and herself seemed to possess them. U. de Mauvrior was happy at the intelli gence and sympathy between them, and etrove all he could to take M. d'Urbino with him, in order to leave them to gather. The moment for declaring her marriage seemed further MT than ever, when one night, on retiring to her room, she found d'Urbino al re4dy there. "Madame," said lie, "you need not be fliglitelleil; lain not here as a lover, but as a husband. I am tired of playing a part; when do you mean to declare our marriage?" "D'Urbino—Ettore, is it you who are speaking thus?—you who so adored--" —Noll! nonsense—l arn your husband; there is no further need fur adoration. Do you think I married yen for love? No; for your fortune—your position. You must tell your father I am in want of money, and mast hare it.,, "It will kill my father, go suddenly—" "Ile will get ol er it, and to-morrow it must be declared." ..To-murrow?" '•]es, or I will speak myself." "Speak lower, you may be heard." "What matter? Or perhaps it hest.— I compromi s e your reputation; lam your husband." Norine, sore and with bursting heart, left the room. She wandered into the garden; there, prostrate on the earth, she struggled with all the bitter feelings that crowded on her heart. She was aroused from her agony by the sound of horsemen galloping through the park. She luoknd up, it was daylight, and the horsemen were gene d'armei. She hastened to the (-bateau, rushed to her room and smoothing her hair and chan ging her dross, she hastened to the saloons lier father, her cousin, d'Urbino, and the gens d'nrmes were there. As she entered M. de 31auvrier turned towards her. "31'1le de Mau vrier," said he, "did you know Monsieur d'Urbino at Baden? Ile appeals to you." "To mc? I do know M. d'Urbine. know that he is an exile. but I thought that in Frann he was safe." "Fur political offenses, hut not for crime. This warrant charges Ettore d'Orbe with rubbery and murder; he denies the charge, lie appeals to me." "I know be was called Count d'Urbino by all at Baden." "And that in all you know of him?" "All," said Norine stag.tering, and ma consciously clinging to her cousin's arm, who advanced to support her. "All, madame," said the aecnsed; "you know more; but, perhaps, this is not the moment to pursue investigation further.— M. de 3lauvrier, take your daughter into the next room and question her there." "Norine, what can this mean?" "An insult to my cousin, sir," snid Cap tain d'Toremont. "I shall not allow it to passl" "Your cousin, sir; I haven nearer claim Madame—" Before he could finish speaking, Norine, uttering a piercing shriek, fell on her knees before her father. , "Forgive me, pity me," sbe said; "or rather, kill me, for I am wretched." "She is my wife," said d'Urbino, "now, I. de Mauvrier, save me for her sake." M. de Mauvrier raised his daughter, and without replying to d'Urbino, led her across the room to her mother's portrait. "Swear," said be, "by ber, that he 'peaks falsely." "Alas! alas: he says true:" "Captain d'Toretuont now advanced to wards his uncle, seeing his agitation. M. de Mauvrier shook off his daughter, who would hive fallen, but for d'Toreinont's sup porting arm. M. de Mruvrier beckoned to d'Urbino. "Sir," said he, "who are you? I know what links you to me; tell me if I am to save you, the truth; who are you?—d'Urbi no or d'Orbe?" "I am a thief and a rubber, but your son in-law; that must sat ame from the galleys." "It shall." M. de Mauvrier crossed the room to where the gees d'armes, leaning on their carbines, were standing behind tho officer. "Show Inc your warrant again," said M. de Mauvrier; read it to me " As he spoke he mechanically took one of the carbines from the soldiers. The officer begun to read. All at once there was an explosion, a wild shriek and a heavy fall. DJ:rhino lay prostrate and dead at the foot of Lady Nora's portrait. '•Soldiers," said he, "I am your prisoner. D'Toremont, we hove been brothers in arms. will yen desert rite now?" "Never," said D'Toremont. "Never, father," said Norine, rushing, to wards hint, but M. de Mauvrier put her aside. "We shall never meet again. Nora's child is my heir, but henceforth let her in herit. lam dead to her. Coale, d'Tore- tnont." De Mauvrier paused for one instant be his wife's portrait. "It was for your sake." murmured he; "your child shall not be dishonored." Then, after a patv+e, he turned, and with calm fea tures and steady step, followed the soldier'. "Farewell, Norine, forever farewell! 'We never meet again." "Farewell forever. Ohl do not leave him; for my sake care for him; for I, guilty and wretched I, love you:" One wild embrace was the last farewell. M. do Maarrier, acquitted cren without trial, was among the first French troops that crossed the Alps. He and d'Toremont lie side by side on the battle-field of Magenta. Norine is alone, rich, solitary, an orphan and a widow, asking for death as the only boon Heaven could grant; expiating her imprudence, her romance, by it lung life of penitence and sorrow. From the New Fork Wrriity Th,p3tch A Live "Subject." A TIfitILC,INCI SCENE IN A ❑ISSECTINC. non! [The value of the following brief, but thrilling narrative, consists in its being vouched fur as a pea The fearful event has caused, we are informed, the most in tense excitement among the very few who have an intimate knowledge of it, and strong efforts have been made to suppress the al fair from public notice. We present the in telligence in the exact shape in which we received it, exclusive of names. We might have giten it a better literary dress, but fact requires no extraneous decoration.] Oc: route, 1:;57. Editor Al, tc Fork Diaputch: There are epochs in every medical tuan's history - , each ~f which comprises a lifetime of horror. ()illy three short weeks ago I way one of the gayest students of medi cine and surgery in the United States. To day—well, let me nut anticipate. Two years have elapsed since I was sent from Mobile, by my father, to study medi cine at the North. I li-tened to my first course of lectures in Philadelphia, and there made the acquaintance of Professor —, who is, probably, the best demonstrator, in physiology, that over taught the young idea how to shoot, alkpathically, on this side of the Atlantic. I was fortunate enough to become a particular favorite of his, and was introduced by him, with an especial flourish, to one of the cleverest surgeons, I think, in the world. His name is —. I will cell him the Professor, however. Ho is one of those individuals fur whom you at once conceive a greet dislike, or a wonder ful partiality, and it was the latter I, at the first time we tact, felt fur him, He was a strange being; at least he seemed so to me upon our first n:eoting, and forever afterwards. Oftentimes ho drank deeply, and, while under the influence of drink, lie would let fall carious hints concerning "blighted hopes," "the rascality of kindred," and "the folly of supposing any affection sprang from the ties of consanguinity.' On one of these communicative occasions lie told me a heart-rending history of family experiences. I gathered by piecemeal from his conversations, the fact that one of his own blood had treated him most heartlessly, and driett hint by fraud of the grossest character, from his native place to this country, penniness and friendless. I ought to say en passant, that his drink ing bouts were conducted strictly upon the gentlemanly plan, and were seldom or never made known to the public. or even to the majority of those who ranked among his im mediate friends; and furthermore, I should remark that he is well advanced in years, although no doubt you know that already. "My evil spirit is upon me," he would sometimes say to me, and then he would il lustrate, in his conduct and manner, the most singular phases of hypochondria 1 et er witnessed. It appears that ho was born in tho town of C—, (I must be guarded, for I em now violating confidenco,) and was unfortunate considering, the laws, which give the older brother everything, to be ushered into the world after bia brother John. For this $ $ • • • S:IN $ IV 1 ; CV. 82 00 •NO IT •i" $ 859. frere he felt the intensest affection. To him he confided the history of his hopes, to hint he looked, more than to his own infirm father for advice; to him he communicated ; a narrative of his love, and of his succesafal , wooing. The maiden of his choice, was Le. neath him in wealth and station, but :::e brother appro‘ed of that choice, and he was content. It is necessary to say object, in penning this narrative, only to state that the elder brother seduced the girl; robbed, by fraud of the basest character, her honorab:c lover of all his means, (also reducing the old father td penury by forgeries,) and then de camped taking the girl along,, to Italy. "Did you never• take vengeance upon the , edueet?" I inquired, wircu he related these facts to me, "1 dill nut regard either of them a• being worthy of my anger,•' he replied, ••and I never follon•ed them an inch." ':D:d you ever hear from them?" I queried "Yss—seleral times. The I.t,t news 1 g.,t was to the effect that she had become ,hameless and besotted, and was living in a condition of !midi.: infamy in Paris. 0: COLlr,e he had left her." "And he?" "Iltd become n gaiaMer; some wrote to me, a thief. [!Jere he .thi/Lldered.] Certain it was that he had squandered alibi., ill got- en means." Thr, , e weeks ago, the Profiessor was to explain to us all (a clas; of students) a cot , . min condition cf the human stomach, and he was to do this practicafly in the dissect ing ro on. There was a dispate as to the propriety of s.,:ne of the late Doctor Marshal nail's teachings, with reference to the d:%i sion of the nervous system, and the Profes sor was to settle the dispute, scalpel iu hand. rim division of Doctor Ilan, permit me to say. r.rranges the nervous system into three sections—the cerebral, or sentient vtduntury! the true spinal, or excito-inctor, and :began glionie, or nutrient, er secretory. The Professor is one of the most skillful of lecturers, and a pi ecise and handsome demonetrator. llis devotion to the anatom ical branches of medical science amounts almost to a monomania. Tile patience wiz!: which ho will work around mid elaborate the smallest preparation fur his cabiact, is Connected with the mooted questions con cerning the stnumeh, were others which it is unnecessary fir me to desoribe;, but they 'node it imperative that the body, to be dis 4ected, should be that of a male adult seine• what aged. The night arrived. We were all in our dissecting apparel. The body entirely nude, and c..mipletely cos ered with a cloth, as is the custom, lay upon the table, and see im patiently awaited the Professor's The conduct of the students in the die • seeting•ruoin 13 not, a 8 I prumme the mast of your readers know from the many able sketches you have published, particularly dignified. In fact, it is (in ~iew of the sad proofs of our wretched helplessness and mortality spread around) fri.olou, disgust ing, nod utterly at sarianee with the scene, ;Old the legitimate purpot-.Ps of the. lISS at- Wage, Rode jests, profanity, the intem perate use of ardent :41,i: its, pipc•stunlCing, &c., are practised and indulged is by all, , n• nearly ail. Ou this night wa were in the wildest spirits, and whoa, soon after the hour appointed, the Professor carded, lie fuund us engaged in a most animated series of laughs ut the sne2taelc of a lighted cigar stuck between the lips of a half-dis2ectL.l negro. The pnfessor appeared to be as . joyful as the students. lie regaled us with several anecdotes more pointed than polite, but cal culated tu inspire the heartiest mirth. I perceived that he was in his best mood. There he was a perfect picture of the man of science, unbenditrg, for the moment, from the dignitic, of his station, so as to insure a feeling of ease to those who had congregated tu receive his instructions.— And ease, in the presence of the preceptor, let me tell you, is very serviceable in a pu pil. "It is astonishing," he paid, as he pre pared himself fur the business of the night, "how soon we get to be familiar with the, relics of mortality. Habit is everything.— The first time that I was introduced to the dissecting room, I was compelled to bite a piece of human fi.esh, that being considered, among my companions, a rite of initiation that could not be dispensed with. The sea sation of horror I experienced cannot bs described. I vowed mentally that I would never enter su ch a revolting place again, but in three months I was the most reck less of the member , of all the classes.— Now I handle the dead as if they were mere b 'les of cotton. Disease in every shape I face without fear. Spectacles of the must appalling character pries by me, leaving no impression worth mentioning.— And this, gentlemen." said he, raising his voice and approaching the table whereon lay the subject, "this faculty of conquering our weaknesses is what makes us valuable a. physicians. Nerve: that, young gentle.: men, is our greatest aid in difficult practice. ' Learn to suppress every approach to ner vvusness—sellool yourselves to view the se verest sufferings with adamantine firmness —never betray the slightest fear. and, with hard study to back you, there can be noth ing to regard your progress in the noblest of all the learned professions." Here he made the usual sign to the jani tor, and that official partly removed the cloth from the subject—the Professor stand- [WHOLE NUMBER 1,512 ihg, then, with his back towards tha table &rot businese;" reaumed, ": with tho etemach." Wt: gattiend around :lie: full of ralxioun expectzttion -You will pay particular attention tome," he col:tint:od, baring tho L2a!nol, and half turiiiag Lim ards tl.c firs• ircia• lam, arc . Nely iianc,rt.ant." concentrated our ...itdons trron •!Is carpse—he looked steadily at vs. ••I niil now," he reamed, _comb our attention directed CM h creeds and rnovc mer,ts, "lay open the bc.dy directly Lencath the regbn of the di•:rbrag:a." Il e new fluted about fan at the tr.i..ls, and. lifted the scalpel. Ile paused an ir.stant. NI - L 3 g.tzed, all earne.:tnese, upon tit . : The scul;:cl descended. Soared:, had it: touched the lean, lard:, sc:aggy and tniser ab:e relic 01 mortality, el() there :ras a. lto.rfal ch:Sge. The meat perfect anunce reigned in the room. The cealpel a second tints :3uited the hotly, and then, as if the iu.,trutneht had been a galvanic battery, the 513111 , -sed curpc, s‘:lh a eoUnter,nuco InOzt e:.,nou zed, sprung up and seized the Profe,,s, , r by tl.O germ, and tEen fell back tplie,eer.t. A glance of herrn: and ree”gili:i9n seemed. to pass between the "huhjeLt" and the Proresior. Ile, as if ~ truck. by lightnine;, btagge/ed hack., with a loud err, or rather shriek, and stood, in on attitude of despair and NTdd terror, gazinz, vacantly ic.to the air. Eofore we could recover from our terror and deQpair, he Imkl We looked at the body; the monies of the race were working—those of the limbs were aCtchin convulbively, and yet, as after in ve—igation proved. it was dead. Why it hale made this strange matifesta- Clial is Wit to uv resolved int" a matter of ee; minty. One of the physicians connec ted with the institution says that he has witne-;=ed the same phenomena among the bodies who died suddenly in fits, as well as of those who were slain by cholera. Hea ven only 'knows the rea9on of the terrific and curious demonstration! But the stran gest part of my story remains to be told. We naturally supposed that the Professor swooned f‘.ons fright. We applied resters tire, and finally tie ezhiliited indicatiuns c msch , usness. lYc e:tplained to him that the show cf life given by the poor, faded form upon the table was purely ~pasomlic, and fallacion., but he inered olemly f‘hoJi.: his head, muttered, "it was the hand of God," and relapsed into insen oibility. A Peo , nd time we lestor,..l him to his senses, and his first Word:: were: "Reprove the sultje[cr . Iliac it from my sight:" :::11 then, v:4 4 1r ogoin borroz-strich en, ho f.:1! into viorieur',ionvu!sioils. \V 7 em a ined ucas him ui . ti. i e focmr.3 W rec07e,..c. , .:1 from the uf the e cLa.rga of one howt.l.cr, the ME es tre:n3 ME IME afri, c - , :lt at 0,1 , 2 Seems horrer was made. TLu r sz—ilt it was) 'was gircm ataicr ui pledge ext , ,r• froln Lv C.:3 u•atoznii%;.; . 0.10 ":70.G HIE ES ! c:f 11 J'l. - whea he i;iwi tlis try is a.ut icn.)vsn. Bat i: I^ Lair.w..ll, that t.O arnwig BEIZEIE f i/c1:tIly. 14: gradl:ally intq. =1 11,1 e he vas a n d vf his treniN.. %Vas the consequouce. kicked i:ito :he ntreet—uttempted to e‘;:nrnit: wily was arre,ted, mod and colide.nia..l to th 2 ..c...;tate".a pi Licit,. Before rca ch:lig tlcre, twwever, he was to all appear. ance Lind, and was ih that condition con t, the porveyor of "subjects," tin..l to oar di ,, ectintz room. MEM I:2e col2ege kin which we do not reside) is t.:e pro ci;t. s.losed. The remaines that greeted the hJrrified vision of the Professor; which sprang' from the sacrla loins as his Arra body; which he has often enfolded in his arm•; and in tho integrity of the heart thht Animated which he had once placed the flr meet reliance, were silently placed in anent catati, awl deposited. not to be disturLed rig,ain, I lithe. until the day of resurrection, in a secluded spot in--cemetery. I scud you my name as a pledge of the trot!, ~ f have wtitten; but you mutt not ds.:lose it. I have no excuse to offer for malting ,thil• awful affair public, other than that the inapresai6n I re ceive.] haunts ate continually, and thisseetus to be a good oral of partially relieving ray vliad cfit, I jute:ll to quit Li t e "profession," or rather abandon ray studies. 'The shock I have experiond forever disqualify rae fur acceEsful The cnu , .e or tliet.4‘.rf,fe•ssor's present aria gerous illness, Nr7DU=`tein."gu - ardetily alluded to by theVM., , preby explained. CC7 - The lees* d4:116 - tris of two dogs who fell to fighting in a saw mill. In the course ot the tussel, orramttlie LlnA,s went plump against a saw in rapid motioh,:srhfeb cut him in two instanter. The hirAegs • ran away, 'but the fore legs continuedithe fight and whiped - out the other dog! TnE TommactiE Pastaam.E.—lf a may's worth depends on his "achers," a perscoa with e , ght decayed teeth should be considered man of preoerty. EEEM
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers