»til , I X r K if rowing Wr j tt»'*«gM» ... -,,, (! •• TBitias ONE COPV OHGTBAK. IN ADVANCE. «•] l? NOT PAID WITHIN THEBE' MONTH« * IE NOT PAID WITHIN SIX MONTHS. » IE NOT PAID WITHIN; NINE MONTHS. IV |E NOT PAID WITHIN TWELVE MONTHS.' I « NodiiooniinueVce” 111 Doallowed ontHallaircaraaaibay' b«eapal<*. 1 ‘T I ; DUTY AM>;UA.HiUTY OFftisTMASTiSKB-. I Poitramtari ncßlcctin*to n D V/* n rtha * a 10 whom t b»S™orth«r«atth»tpoo»t.»rJ«o<» n “ IDp’^|blo 1 D p ’^|bl 0 fo« th. f thenn dlraotod. aro (bemiolrei Oeia lamoUntortha tuluoriptron aoM?’ . )ireliorto otheti. b,^r.Vablo^. D ,:rAod «* tho pr,ooa,rob,o,lD ' “S'orD.patl.now oawi.dD, mall throccbout tbb oo«nt, fra* orDOtt&co- I .; THE TEMPTED. .! ■ , nv FINLEV JOHNSON. if “And you are going to leave üb, Ned ?” r i said old farmer Brian in a tone of iriquiry m his late assistant. ’ “Why, yes," was the reply, “I think ' that by so doing 1 can do better. With the wages I have saved 1 intend tobiiya small farm, and when my little girl and 1 £ aro married, wo shall settle down for life. |i : “t am glad to hear it Ned, though it .ft rocs hard with ns to part with you. You ;? have been faithful to your trust, and may j< you be happy ; but beware of your mor.al i enemy, tutu.” . & ,Tho young man was for a moment con. ! fused, but speedily recovering, he replied. 8 “Well, Mr. Brian, that lam resolved on. as ho waved his hand; and dialling to a huge shaggy dog, he took the road and with a happy heart sped onward. Edward Howard wasone of those strong, ' hardv men, that seem to have been made i expressly to clear the wav for civilization. As ho trudged on his way with his dog at -his heels, and cast about his eyes now on ' the vast expanse of the prairie land, and row on the rude huts of the settlers, he seemed to have been formed for such a * C “€ome on, Lion—come on, old boy,’ I he cried, snapping his ing down to stroke his dog, you II miss the old farm and the hearth, and the new folks perhaps, will call you an ugly cus tomer, but the girl that loves me will love you, too, old boy. We are going to a new And here he struck up a lively tuno, while the dog bounded on before him, wagging his toil, as if he understood all his master said. Bright visions of the lu tore came before the young man ana, building fairy castles in the nir, Ned wa Ho "had not proceeded far before his ears were saluted with the shouts pf a par ty who were returning from the fields. “Hillo, Ned,” they cried, “where are you bound! Hillo, old Lion, where for now 7 “Why, my friends, I am going no iar ther to-night than the Western House cried Ned, as he shook them all by the fmnd; “and as for Lion, he’ll not leave me. I must taste mother Simpson e tea *° “Kp of whiskey would sit better on your stomach,” said one, as he slapped tho voung man on the shoulders. . y “Or a glass of the old man s punch, Teioined another. „ “I wonder if Ned has any dunes, shouted a third; “I move he treats the a < V iClwfieltf HqmMicftii. A WEEKLY PAPER: IiEVOTED TO LITEUATIjUU, AGRIOL'LTI'HE, MOKAUTV. AND FO.UMGN AW UOMEST.O INTELLIGENCE. ns when he first started. He felt himsclfl debased, and his course was downward. The warning voice of his good old master was forgotten, and entering the first low cabin on his route, he again drank of_ his enemy—rum. Thoughts of his bet rothed, of his future prospects, would occasionally, like sunbeams, dart pcross his mind, then all would bo dark. Still lie crank, and as he drew near to the home of her whom he loved, his steps Were staggering, and his head reeled from the effects of the poison. He had been tempted, and relying upon his own strength rather than the grace of God, had fallen. The first false step was taken, and hope. was shrouded m the darkness of despair. | Carrie Church loved Edward Howard— vea, loved him with all the strength of her woman’s nature. She viewed him on ly through the medium of love, and all appeared 6 bright. ’Tis true he had one fault, still her faith absolved it. But her stern old father regarded it as a fault which was to him a barrier not to bo re moved. Young Howard loved his glass, and when the father of the girl he cherish ed reasoned with him on the folly ol his course, he would treat it lightly, and in a tone of carelessness pass it by. | “Edward,” said old Mr. Church, “my 1 child shall never wed a man who indulges in intoxicating drinks. It is useloss to ar gue the matter; refrain from your enemy and my daughter shall be yours. Loving Carrie devotedly he pledged himself t 6 abstain from rum, and going to work for old Mr. Brian, ho had saved up sufficient to buy a small farm. The re ports of his altered conduct were time al ter time told to the loving girl and the honoful old man. The time of his proba tion wanted hut a day of closing when he started from the house of his employer.— Carrie’s heart was beating high with joy ful anticipations, and with a trusting sou she looked for the return of her lover. Ono night as she was sitting.engnged in deep thought, and now and then would cast a glance at her sorrowing father, a low knocking was heard at the door while at the same time the pitiful whine of a dog sounded in the air. In a moment she sprung upon her feet and opened the door; but she uttered n wild and fearful shriek, and fell fainting in her father s af As the old man gazed upon the object which had so alarmedlns daughter.ho was astounded at what he beheld. There stood Edward, with shoeless feet, and no clothing but a pair of old trowsers and a thin shirt. His eyes were dull and hag gard, while his lips presented a fearful aP “Take C him away, father,” cried the ex cited girl, “he is not my Edward—no, no. My Edward is dead. Take him away , this is some fiend which has come to mock me,” and giving an awful cry, she m P*. on' lb. W. -to” fled —she was mad. J Sunken, degraded, as had made him yet his heart was touched by the agony of the girl. Throwing up h.s arms ,o B heaven, he shouted: “I am a murderer, a murderer, 1 Do you hfear 7 arnurderer. And colling his dog, ho departed. Two days after, Edward Howard might have been seen staggering up to the tav ern where his first ruin was effected and | supplicating for a glass of rum. The bar i keener laughed and turned away. I “Hilloa, Ned,” cried out his former companions, “cleaned out eh 7’ . I AVitman aching head and crazed brain, ! the poor wretch wandered through the neighborhood. Often would his voice be hom'd in the hour of midnight, “Ha, ha , lam a murderer! I killed her ;1 that is not'my Edward—no, no, a fiend. He Eso was a maniac. The vivid, but cold, serjient.liko gleam of his e y c s could not bo mistaken. Sometimes, at midnight, he would be heard fleeing by the e W s v if for life; at other times loud shouts andcries would issue Irom die woods « if from one in great agony, and i*• '* LIFE OF A COQUETTE. The beautiful Baronno B— was a co quetto and a widow, and was too proud for tho precious freedom of widowhood to wish to risk it a socond time in tho silken bonds of wedlock. So, strcngthing her weak woman’s heart with the shield.of universal coquetry, she bade defiance to the sighs and vows with which she was attacked. She laughed at the creduilty of her vic tims, and despised them that they could sue so long and so vainly; but in their tri umphs she lost tho better attributes of tho woman. She was a rose amid a world ol briers, and the briers sprang from the depth of her own heart. Thus abusing all her woman’s gifts—her beauty, her youth, and her wit—she trampled them under foot as worthy offerings to her own pride of soul. The only recollection our widow kept of matrimony was, that it had furnished her with n tyrant and a fortune. Her husband had beon cold, stern and in flexible ; but the fates decreed that she should soon be released from him. and she was left blooming and beautiful, the cynosure of every gaze— among tho men, be it understood. Perhaps;it was not wholly her own fault that she was such a despot. Her bright eye gave laws to her crowd of followers. She rewarded with a smile, sho could punish with.a singe word, exterminate with an epigram, exile with a look. Sho felt her power and used it Men feared her wit, while they were led capti.ve.by her beauty. Women hated her, but could not detect a flaw m the snow of her character worse than that she was a cold-hearted coquette. There was, however, one among her train of adorers who had vowed to himselftowin tnis lady, and he threw himself heart and soul, at the coquette’s feet, sure that the reality of his own feelings must conquer the frivol ous caprice of her character. He was a heart and feeling. “ Love’s greatest mir acle is to slay coquetry,” said our unfor tunate lover when he left the salons where his mistress reigned supreme. Hut to Mademe B a secret voice murmured in tones of rejoicing—“ What happiness to love no one and to seo one s self beloved by all!” .. But what misery to the lover to see his worshipped one smiling upon alt the same beaming smile 1 Hide thy jealousy from the scornful eves of this coquette, sighed the beating heart. Of all ills which love brings, jealousy is tho one for which «• man has the least sympathy. And so the Count Stcphano hid his misery in flight. Absence is the tomb of slight passions, but it fans tho sparks of a real affection into a flame. He, therefore, as it was but natural that he should, us quickly returned, and laid his affection once more at her feet. Count Stephano was not now to be denied; she had listened too long she had gone too farto recede—she should hear him. He continued bis persevering ad dress, till one morning she sent him this iryailontly ro ijMcierico, wil after year?:'; annoys me, dear friend for so, in spite of all, t must call y ou T'““ d vour iealousv frightens me. I havo‘hero fore, taken refuge in flight, and by the time you receive this, shall be far on my way to a land whither you dare not follow me My uncle commands an Austrian garrison •mltaly, and I mean to join him at Milan, i one of these days, to meet you a cain in France, when you shall have learn to find you a reasonable and modest gen lian lover, who cores nol to understand the caprices of o woman’s heart. “She shall notescape me thus, he said, “the coquette shall learn what ius.to deal with men’s hearts. 1 will follow her. He was proscribed, his estates confiscat ed, and A price set upon his head. He, therefore, hazarded much m euterln S Ita ' lv again. The Count Stephano had taken on .active part in some revolutionary pro ceedings in his native land; and, having rendered himself obnoxious to the Austri an government, escaped with his Itle and a moderate fortune to France. The Baronne had been some short time in Milan, when, ope day, Con. V s chasseur announced a French traveler, who desired to see Madame B— •=- at once. “ His name 1” said the lady. «« He will not give it.” “Then we will not admit him, said the m. “»* '5 s ne <« Perhaps it is some friend of mine who is in distress.” uAs you-will,” said the General.. And Count Stephano entered the chamb- If bad utteredtbe name, , which trembled on her lips, Counts fato would have been decided , but for once the coquette’s ready wit served her in a B °“Ah! my dear cousin,”, cried she, “how clad lam to see you! No doubt you hav faken me at my word, apd you are come t 6 escort me home again. I shall bo ready a few days, Allow me to introduce vou to my unclk Dear uncle, this isone of my husband’s family whom you , have Austrian general held out his |jatt|tathe%ouh‘» « bade;h.m a cour- teous welcome. Count Stcphnno could scarcely repress A smile nt his strange position, although he felt that he> stoodl in a perilous situation ; and the lady suffered all the horrors of intense anxiety, now but imperfectly veiled beneath her usual gay and careless air. For the firsttime in her life, our coquette felt that she had to reply before God nnd man for the life which her levitv had placed in jeopardy. She pass ed the night in pacing her chamber, in weeping bitter tears, in prayers which rose from the heart, and not the lips. At early dawn next day the general entered her chamber. She was already dressed ; she had not laid down during"'the night; her face was pale, her eves were lull ot tears. Her uncle stood fora moment, and looked upon her sternly and sadly. “Cam illa,” said he, at length, “1 have had news for you. This cousin of yours is no 1’ rench man. Ho is an Italian noble, condemn ed by the justice of my master, the Em peror, to death, if ever he sets foot in Ita )v He is in love with you. You have wantonly trifled with him and ho has been mad enough to follow you here. But you need not dread his annoying you anymore; vou will never see him again. “Never see him again !” gasped the Ba ronne, clasping her hands ; “then am indeed punished by a just Heaven . “The police have tracked him to my house. 1 have received information from them, und have myself examined him, and heard the whole history of your wrongs towards him. My duty forces me lobe stern and unflinching. lam bound to vi olate the sanctity of my own roof, and ar rest him even here. At this very moment he ought to be dead.” A gun boomed in the distance, and the unhappy Camilla fainted. When she re covered her consciousness, she saw the Count kneeling by her side, and chafing her hands.’” “Av, weep,” said ho, in n tender voicc-- “weep, for your cruelty had almost had its*victim. 'But 1 forgive you, ; we always forgive those we love. . “Up, up my children,” cried the Aus train general; “enough of looks, sighs and tears. Make love ns far away from Milan as possible. I have risked my head, sir, to save yours ; you shall thank me for it when you are safe bnck again in France. Be off at once, and heaven pros- per you !” V “And my death-warrant’ said the Count. „ . , “I must regret that I received it too late —I can do no more.” n “And to you, my child, 7 said the Gen. as he passed the repentant coquette deserves neither peace in this world or joy here after She has separated herself from all human svmpathies ; but a time must come when those who flatter now will leave her for a younger idol, and then she finishes her worthless life as she began it—she w ill , die as she lived —alono! ... , But as Camilla had no wish for such . solitary fate,she did penance for herfauUs [ and follies by taking upon herself the vows of obedience, and shining henceforward 3 as a duteous and loving wife. Benefits of Advertising.— lfeither Washington, Tremont and Hanover streets are examined closely their history for five years past, it will be found that those who have advertised most judiciously, have done the best business beyond all chances for comparison. On every pointt the principle is a fixed one. It admits of no doubt - it is based on clear reason and visible facts, and is not to be controverted. Advertis ing consists in plainly telling every body what you have got, what it is, what it is worth, and all other necessary particulars. This is told at the fireside, the office, the bench. People go to such places as natur ally, almost, as they breathe. They knot where to go, and though a hundrcdpbc must be passed, in which, possibly, the very article wonted, is to be had, yet it is \hJadvertiser who will get the doller, the profit, the reputation. Boston Bee. °^ P The success of those who advertiso tensively in this city, has not been.less sure and certain than those of Bo ton Take, for example, Jayne, Shepherd, Reed andohostof others. Besides cuffing them selves rich, it is a singular f aU » that vertising increases their business to such an extent as to enable them to keep» hrg stocks and sell cheaper goods than those who save a sixpence by keeping out of the papers and lose dollars by lack oftrade.- A P man can get along without advertising and so can a wagon go without grousing, but it goes hard. — Phila Sun. os-No man should be delicate about asWng for what is properly his due. If he Sects doing so he is deficient in that spirit of independence ,'vhich he should observe in all his actions. R, B h 3 “ r rights, and if not granted should be da manded. The selfish world is little lnchn cd to give one his own, unless he have the manliness to claim it. TheiacUofth proper fulfilment of this principle has dost to many, fortune, fame and reputation. (t*rA political punster; in speaking of PrSdent Pierce’s Cabinet, says that the .‘‘Wheels-of state” are now supplied with new felkws. GEN. JACKSON’S REHINISCENSCES OF THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS. “Philo Jackson” writes to the Savon nnh Journal, an interesting accountora visit to Gen. Jackson, at the Hermi age, in 1839, from which we extract the fol ow ing , longed to hear him speak of his great battle, and one ofthe greatest battles 100 of modern history, the crowning P of his military life, the battle of the Bth of January, before New Orleans. He had ust returned from his last visit to that city and lamented the decease of most of h.s old compatriots since that battle. All the 0, “ 1 , Tiphnnlt he observes officers except Col. Itobaiit, , were dead. He then graphically descried u» field, lha forlilicntions ■« J» “ “ them,and victory in a manner 1 shall never forget “Mr. Eaton,” (said General Jack son,) “ has greatlv erred in his description r.ho American Works. Ho says hat I had a ‘strong breastwork of cotton bag • There were not a bag of cotton on field, sir 11 1 had some store boxes and sand-bags, or bags filled with sand, theße were extended along the line , but they were so low, that at the close ot the action, when the British surviving general, in command, came riding up on an elegant horse to surrender his sword, when he got near me, I heard him exclaim, ™th no tifying surprise, ‘barricades! by U I could leap them with my horse 1 laughed heartily at his astonishment, for so he could, and besides, on one wing the works were not completed; 1 had nothing there but a corn-field fence ! if the British , had only known to turn it! But by keep inc my men constantly throwing over fa cinesand ladders on theworks.the British were effectually deceived. But, (continu-, ed General J.,) “I never had so grand and awful an idea of tho Resurrection as on that day. After the smoke had cleared off somewhat, (our men were in ho. pursu. ofthe flying enemy,) then I saw, 1 distance, more then five hundred Britons emerging from heaps of their dead com- all over tho plain I—«smg up, and , more distinctly visible, as the field became clearer, coming forward and s " rrend 3.""“ as prisoners of war to our soldiers. They had fallen at our first fire on them, withou having received a scratch, and lay pio - trate, as if dead, till the close of the action. General Jackson regarded this action, iustly, as the most glorious achievement in \l life. That victory was « to his country ns to the hero °^ NeW Ur leans-yet the strategy of tho Genera '> " this masterly battle, has never been d y appreciated in any history of it I have 'ead. The Sandwich Islands.— The Boston Journal says that u recent census ol the Sanwich Islands exhibits some acts of startling interest and which illustrate in the most unmistakable manner the Si law That the inferior race must g.ve way to the stronger. The present population of the seven islands forming the groupjw 80,641. The deaths last year were 7,94 while the births were only 1,<07. in is an extraordinary state of thin S s > Qn doubt whether its parallel can be lound in the history of the world. In th Cook this people numbered 400,000 .thus in seventy years they have decreased 32 0 - 000. In 1830 they numb e red 108,579 decrease in 17 years nearly 28,000 Such a rapid decrease of native popu a V°" deeply melancholy spectacle. At the pres ent P rate of decrease, another generation will hardly have passed away ere this people will be blotted from the face of the earth. ______ 03-Tho following compose the ne of railroads of which Pittsburg will Boon be the centre: The Pennsylvania road, nearly completed; Ohio and Pennsylvania, do; Allegheny Valley, just commenced . Pittsburgh and Steubenville, nearly finish ed ; Pittsburgh and Connelsvtlle, sure be made; Cleveland and Pittsburgh finish-1 od to Wellsville ; Cleveland and Mahoning, commenced; Pittsburgh and Erie, to be put under contract soon—this rondpassin 0 through the rich field of cannel coal. (KrTho aggregate wealth of the'United! States amounts to 812|000 000,000 and the population to 24,000,000 of souls- Tho wealth divided by the population,] mves 8500 to each person, young and old , and counting five persons to each family, it would give the handsome little fortune of 82,000. v . . (tJrßevenae is a common passion; it is the sin of tho uninstructed. The savage ( deems it noble; but Christs religion, which is the sublime civihser, emphatically ( condemns it. Why’ Becauserelig.onev er seeks to ennoble man; and nothing s debases him na revenge. (£rA Yankee Editorsays— “the march of civilization is onward— onward lik' the slow but intrepid tread of a jackass tu : wards a peck of oats. I hog of the Chester county breed was recently slaughtered, whose weight was 416 pounds. Nine months old. ' (tJ7”Lord Bacon. beautifully said, “If a • man be gracious to strangers, it shows i that lie is u citizen of the world, and his i heart is no island, cut off from other isl ands hdt 9 continent that joins them. Kqeere. 'tinmllon, : »»“|S $ s£' Ido 3 do l« ,5 Sontii, . Each»«bwqo«ni do. 36 « hilfoolomn.amonth• '"iS"!SSS i?: g Jft ,M»8 .ft ‘s—. 500 l ,»g ft isssasi-. :Bsst'ft-;i* ft r* A llboml rednollo* willbo mode 10 Meroheni. «»<* olhßr * whoadveriUe by the tear. . nnAUrcod by Oar paper circular* in every ooiahboirhootl* ft»n 1 “ f d* t neatly every Inmilj’ In th. coonty-aed Uiorelort »«$ ™ 9f convenlentaml cheap meani for Uw bo»t»«i w»® ® coanty-the merchant, tnoukvnto.and alll other* to ®*oaW fo /!01 o * fterid to le ,t he'mor eelreo* I v r I y n man ndv.ri.... * Books, Jobs nnd Blanks, OF EVEKY DESCRIPTION. VenY HE3T STYLE.- AND ON THE BHOETESI NOTICE, AT THE office of the I --CEEARFIELy) UEPUBUCAN.- Troin llic Fori Smitli Aril. Herald. March 19 NEW OVERLAND ROUTE TO THE PACIFIC. Wrycive below a letter from Col. Miles, Third Infantry, U. S. A., now stationed in New Mexico, malting known that u new i,as9 has been discovered from Albuquer que, seventy-five miles from Santa bo, New Mexico, to San Francisco, California, a journey of twenty-five days for loaded wagons. It will be recollected that the emigrants from this place, in 1849, pnsse through Albuquerque on their journey to California. Had the new pass then been known, the trip from this place would have been made in two months. The information in regard to the dis covery of this new route, which, no doubt, is throne known as Walker s paM, settle, the question ns to the route for the Pacific Railroad—direct from tort Smith, via Al buquerque, to San Francisco, Cn ' lfo ™‘“- The route by El Paso, through the Mex ican Provinces, is now out of the question. The road can now be built all the way within the limits of the United States. According to the report of Captain Marcy, made in 1849, the road to Santa Fe is as good as any road in the known world the distance being 850 miles from ? o [t Smith to Santa Fe. Albuquerque is about the same distance— following the Santa Fe road to the first set.foments in New Mexico, whore the road forks to the £ goes to Albuquerque. We look forward w th B groat anxiety to the report ofCap tain Mercy, which is now bemg printed, which gives an interesting account of the expedition to the head-waters of Red Ri - or under the Captain, during last sum- Marcy, susceptible ot sustaining a g population, and abonnding .» -»> We Fort FiaaMoaE, N, M., Jan-4,1853. A month ago I wrote toyour Represen tative in Congress, Mr. Johnson, awjtol him of the near route discovered from Al buquerque, in New Mexico, to Sa "J™. Tm o!^ame U J3ei e o a f D latitude 35 and ly ten degrees in longitude from the form /r For one hundred milies east of Alb" nueroue a road can be made without troub fo asVod ns could be found m any coun trv g This is as far East as has been ex nfored. No doubt the balance of the wa> fa good as that known, for Major Sieen.o. the B lst Dragoons, says he has explore - west of Fort Smith and north ° f to the Salt Plains— upwards of 350 miles about half wav)-and at all times he founu good water, plenty of wood.and fine graz that the troopsshould open this and locate four posts on it. One on Pecos, crossing parallel 30 deg north itude the other on the waters of the Urn adian, near parallel of longitude 103 west. tr"; X t also on the branches Ol the Can adian, in the neighborhood of parallel 10 d e£ r west longitude, nnd tjie other on th same parallel of the first Fort Arbucklo,.pn further east, the two latter by troopaftofv the seventh military department, the. former bv troops from New Mexico. Th post on the Pecos to bo the main depot fq* &», instead of Fort Unton, a». ; all supplies to be drawn over the short route from Fort Smith. That treaties b mado with the Jickario and Muscalen< Apaches, residing east of Albuquerque on the lino of this road and they remov. west of the Rio G rande on the O tla. That the mail route monthly or semi monthly be made between Fort Sm th an,, Albuquerque, (in mail stages,) Instead '- to Donna Anna, which » near 200 mile - too far south. This l have represented - Mr. Johnson, and I know him so well tha 1 can safely believe he will give the sub ject his attention. . . . . Fort Smith is, in my opinion, the nea »»«• "fir- S removal of the Apaches, will devel the resources of New Mexico, which if rich in minerals, and is a fine grazing “Tim'told the land on the Pecos is gQlifi for agricultural purposes of nny kind. n - well as that on the streams flowing from the White mountain, east of Albuquecqui. May you get your road; jt is duo iyou, well alto the interest of the United Staten When once established, it will be the «o > one trvelled. Lieut. Col. Third infantry.,. ; 03" An editor iio\vn e»ai. sex. f He B uy}.|g.«V. dies wear corsetts from u , • stinct, having u natural love fe* being squeezed. ■ 03-Dr. Holmes, in one of his poem? savs, “I never heard a hearty laugh fra<* out a villain's throat.’