Lewistown gazette. (Lewistown, Pa.) 1843-1944, January 28, 1858, Image 1

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    ■e No. 2443.
* TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION.
I I eXE DOLLAR PER A.fXTJI,
I IN ADVANCE.
I For six months, 75 cents.
V |) >'K\V subscriptions must be paid in
LYMG |F the paper is continued, and net
the first month, $1,25 will be charg-
RH,.,T paid ia three months, $1,50; if not
s j x months, $1,75; and if not paid in
I 'addressed to persons out of the
F be discontinued at the expiration of
M E PAID for, unless special request is made
or payment guaranteed by some
person here.
ADVERTISING.
I OF minion, or their equivalent, con
• A square. Three insertions §l, and 25
R^B, R each subsequent insertion.
rflWest Branch Insurance Co.
OF LOIR HAVE*, PA.,
Detached Buildings, Stores. Mer-
IHidise, Farm Property, and other Build
gHj their contents, at moderate rates.
F* DIRECTORS.
J. Pearce, Hon. G. C. Harvey,
§■. Hall, T. T. Abrams,
ZHF A. Mayer, D. K. Jackman,
■, Crist, W. White,
Thos. Kitchen.
I Hon. G. C. HARVEY, Pres.
I T. T. ABRAMS, Vice Pres.
Kitchen, Sec'y.
|J REFERENCES.
■L 11, Lloyd, Thos. Bowman, 1). D.
IBWincgardner, WM, Vanderbelt,
Wm. Fearon,
Dr. J. S. Crawford,
IWQUISGLE, A. Updegraff,
JH\ Maynard, James Armstrong,
Cameron, HOD. Wm. Bigler.
for Mifflin county, G. W. STEW
■ Esq. ap23
Hnity from Loss nnl Damage by Fire,
Peril* of Marine and Inland Transportation.
f CONTINENTAL
■NSURANCE COMPANY.
by the Legislature of Pcnnsylva-
I I uia, xcith a Perjtetual Charter.
fHAtithorized Capital, $ 1,000,000.
H No. 01 Walnut St. above Second, Fbila.
Insurance on Buildings, Furniture, Mer-
&c., generally. Marine Insurance
and Freights to ail parts of the
Inland Insurance on Goods, &c., by
H, Rivers, Canals, and Land Carriages, to
of the Union, on the most favorable
K consistent with security.
I DIRECTORS.
W. Colladay, William Bowers,
|H>l. Coleman, Joseph Oat,
V. Maehette, Howard Hinchman,
EORGE W. COLLADAY, President,
WILSON, Secretary.
Agent for Mifflin county, Wm. P. EL-
Esq. febl9-ly
INDE'iIMTY AGAINST LOSS BY F.liE,
inklin Fire Insurance Coinpa
ny of Philadelphia
UUee IG3A Chestnut street, near Fifth,
tmeiit of ASSETS, 80
January Ist, 1857.
phed agreeably to an act of Assembly, be
ing,
M irtgages, amply secured, $1,519,932 73
K l ite, (present value, $109,-
t.) cost, 89,114 18
is, i present ralue, $83,881 12,)
it, ' 71,232 97
,&e. f 64,121 56
$1,827,185 bti
'petiul or Limited Insurances made on every
iption of property, in Town and Country.
a* low as are consistent with security,
ice their incorporation, a period of twenty
l years they have paid over Three Millions
filar*' losses by lire, thereby affording ev
te of the advantages of Insurance, as well
h< ability and disposition to meet with
Bptness all liabilities.
Losses by Fire.
es paid during the year 1856, $301,638 84
DIRECTORS.
. N.Bancker, | Mordccai D. Lewis,
as Wagner, I David S. Brown,
uel Grant, | Isaac Lea,
b R. Smith, j Edward C. Dale,
. W. Richards, t George Fales.
CHARLES N. BANCKER, President,
its. G. Bakckkr, Scc'y.
j*Agent for Mifflin county, 11. J. WAL
LS, Esq., Lewistown. marL)
ITSG-K.CCEK."/,
OVISION AND FISH STORE,
IE subscriber has opened a Grocery, Pro
vision and Fish Store opposite Major Eisen
's Hotel, where he has just received a fine
•rtnient of fresh
jfanUljj (groceries,
mg which may be found fine Coffee, Sugar,
6, Molasses, Syrups, Cheese, Crackers,
I, Ham, Shoulder, Fine Ashton and Dairy
I, Tobacco, Segars, Soap, &c.
ho, Brooms, Tubs, Buckets, Baskets, and a
[e assortment of Willow-ware, which he
rs for cash very cheap,
will pay Cash for Butter, Lard, Potatoes,
lons, 4.e.
Mb see prices, and judge for yourselves.
>p3 JAMES IRWIN.
Sugar, Syrups and Teas
GREATLY REDUCED.
'OOD Brown Sugar at 9 a 11 cts. per lb.
I " White " 11 al3 do
feas, 62 a 100 do
Lovering's best Syrup, 75 per gallon
New York " 50 do
New Orleans Molasses, 50 do
111 for Cash at the old Steam Mill Store, by
tinedy, .Junkin &. Co. Also, the prices on
&RY toons GREATLY REDUCED,
cash. Give us a call. We will sell for
b lower than any other house.
KENNEDY, JUNKIN & CO.
Ready-made Clothing
l will sell at Philadelphia prices. Now
' is the time to pull off your old clothing
I buy new at the cheap store of
a,J ' KENNEDY, JUNKIN & CO.
iransyuiaiß Asa) irsr ©scbie©!! om-mnsyaHMßa mrmm®ws 9 wsamxxs wmnrSi, s>i
'ill ittHwii.
THE UNBIIOKEJi SLUMBER.
it, I shall rest! some conitug May,
V lien blossoms iu the wind are (lancing,
Antl children ia their mirthful jilay
Hei*i not the mournful cr&wa advancing—
Up through the loug and busy street
They bear me to my last retreat.
Or else—lt mutters not—may rave
The storms atiU blasts of wintry weather.
Above the narrow, new-made grave.
Where care and 1 He down together—
Enough, that 1 should know it not,
Within that dark and narrow spot.
For I shall sleep I as sweet a sleep
As ever graced a child reposing,
Awaits me iu the ceil so deep,
Where I, my weary eyelids closing.
At length shall lay iue down to rest.
Heedless of clouds above my breast.
Asleep 1 How deep will be that rest
From life's turmoil moving wildly ?
That wh.;u Is past the earth's unrest.
Its busutii shall receive me mildly ;
For not one dream of earth may come
To break the slumber of that home.
t)b, deep repose! Oh, slumber blest.!
Oh, night of peace! no storm no sorrow,
No heavy stirring in my rest,
To meet another weary morrow.
I shall heed neither night or dawn,
ilut still with folded hands sleep on.'
And yet methlnks If steps of those
I'd known and loved on earth were round me,
'Twould break the night of my rejiose.
Shiver the Icy cords that bound me—
Save that I know this cannot b",
Fir death disowns ail sympathy.
Then mourn not, friend-, when yc shall lay
The clods of earth above my ashes.
Think whai a rest awaits my clay.
And smooth the mound with tearless lashes;
Glad that the resting form within
Has done with sorrow, care and slu.
Think that with me the strife is o'er.
Life's Stormy, struggling battle ended ;
I..'Juice that 1 have gained that shore.
To which my fullering f mtsteps tended.
Ureuthe the bleat hope above the so !,
And leave me to luy rest with God.
'liaii&iuuajiis.'
THREE SCENES IN THE LIFE
OF A BELLE.
J'y Mrs. Carollm- i.ee !!;- r.
S'-KXE Fki.iT.
There was a rushing to and fro in the
chamber of Ellen Loving, :t tread of hurry
ing Let, a mingled hum of voices, an open
ing and shutting of door-, as if some event
of overwhelming importance agitated the
feelings, and moved the f'n me* oi every in
dividual in the house. A stranger, in the
apartment below, might have imagined an
individual was dying, and that all were
gathering round to otfer the appliances of
love and sympathy. Rut Ellon Luring,
the object of all this commotion, was in all
the blond and beauty of health, ." hes.it
in a low chair and in front of a large mir
ror, half arrayed in the habiliments of the
ball r om, her head glowing with flowers,
and streaming with ringlet-, her feet enca
ed in . ilk cobweb Mid white satin, her face
flushed with excitement, her waist com
pressed into the smallest possible compass,
while the strongest fingers the household
could supply, were drawing together the
last reluctant hook and eye, which fastened
the ric-h and airy mixture of satin Ldonde,
that fell in redundant folds round her slen
der person. ' I am afraid, Kiien, your
dress is rather too tight, sat I Mrs. Luring,
who was superintending the process with a
keen and experienced eye; 'you had bet
ter not wear it, it may give you a consumj -
dun.' 'Ridiculous!' exclaimed Kllen,'it
feels perfectly loose and comfortable; I am
sure it fits delightfully. Look, Agnes,"
addressing a weary-looking girl who had
been standing more than half an hour over
her, arranging her hair in the most fash
ionable style. ' Look, Agnes, is it not
beautiful V
' Very beautiful,' answered Agnes; 'but
I think it would look much better if it
were not so very low, and (he night is so
cold, I am sure you will suffer without
something thrown over your shoulders.—
These pearl beads are very ornamental, but
they will not give warmth,' lifting them up
as she spoke, from a neck that ' rivalled
their whiteness.' Ellen burst into a scorn
ful laugh, and declared she would rather
catch her death-cold, than look so old fash
ioned and old womanish. Mrs. Loring
here interposed, and insisted that Ellen
should w ear a shawl into the ball room, and
to be sure to put it around her when she
was not dancing, 1 for you must remember,'
| said she, ' the dreadful cough you had last
! winter; when you caught cold, 1 was really
apprehensive of a consumption.'
j 'I do think, mother, you muf-t be haunt
!ed by the ghost of consumption. Every
' thing you say begins and ends with con
! sumption —7 am not afraid of the ghost, or
: the reality, while such roses as these bloom
! on my cheeks, and such elastic limbs as
I these bear me through the dance.'
Mrs. Loring looked with admiring fond
ncss on her daughter, as she danced gayly
j before the looking-glass, called her a'wild,
thoughtless thing/ and thought it would
i |, e indeed a pity to muffle such a beautiful
i neck in a clumsy kerchief. The carriage
| was announced, and Agnes was despatched
i in a hundred directions for the cmbroider
; ed handkerchief, the scented gloves, and
; all the et cetera*, which crowd on the mem
ory at the last moment. Agnes followed
the retreating form of Ellen with a long
and wistful gaze, then turned with a sigh
, to collect the scattered articles of finery
THURSDAY, JANUARY 28, 1858.
that .strewed the rouiu. ' Ilappy Ellen !'
said she to herself,' happy, beautiful Ellen!
favoured by nature and fortune. Every
desire of her heart is gratified. She moves
but to be admired, flattered, and caressed.
While I, a poor, dependent relative, am
compelled to administer to her vanity and
wait upon her caprices—oh ! if I were only
rich and beautiful like Ellen ! I would
willingly walk over burning ploughshares
to obtain the happiness that is in stove for
her to-night.'
While the repining Agnes followed Ellen,
in imagination, to scenes which appeared
to her fancy like the dazzling pictures de
scribed in the Arabian Nights, let us enter
the ball room and follow the footsteps of
her, whose favored lot led her through the
enchanted land. The hall was brilliantly
lighted, the music was of the most anima
ting kind, airy forms floated on the gaze,
most elaborately and elegantly adorned,
and in the midst of these Ellen shone trans
cendent. l'or a while, her enjoyment re
alized even the dreams of Agnes. Con
scious of being admired, she glided through
the dance, gracefully holding her flowing
drapery, smiling, blushing, coquetting and
flirting. Compliments were breathed con
tinually info her ears. Shi: was compared
to the sylphs, the graces, the muses, the
houns, and even to the angels that inhabit
the celestial city. Yes; this daughter of
fashion, this devotee of pleasure, this vain
and thoughtless being, who lived without
t iod iii the world, was told by flattering lips,
that she resembled those pure and glorified
spirits which surround the throne of the
Most High, and sing the everlasting song
oj' Moses and the Lamb —and she believed
it. Perhaps some may assert that the
daughters of fashion are not always forget
ful of their God, for they are often heard
to call upon hi- great ami lrnly name; in a
moment of sudden astonishment or passion,
and were a saint to witness their uplifted
eyes and clasped hands, he might deem
them wrapt in an ecstacy of devotion.
„ Ellen, in the uiidst of almost universal
homage, began to feel dissatisfied and wea
ry. There was one who had been in the
train of her admirers, himself the star of
fashion, who was evidently offering incense
at a new shrine. A fair young stranger,
who seemed a novice in the splendid scene,
drew him from her side, and from that mo
ment the adulation of others ceased to
charm, "he danced more goyly. she laugh
ed iu ore loudly, to conceal the mortification
and envy that was spreading through her
heart; but the triumph, the joy was over.
Jehebeganto feel a thousand inconveniences,
of whose existence she seemed previously
unconscious. Her feet ached from the
lightness of her slippers, her respiration
was difficult from the tightness of her dress;
she was glad when the hour of her depar
ture arrived. Warm from the exercise of
the dance, and panting front fatigue, she
stood a few moments on the pavement,
waiting for some obstructions to be reiuov
el in the way of the carriage. The ground
was covered with a sheet of snow, which
had fallen during the evening, and made a
chiii Led for her feet, so ill defended from
the inclement season. The night air blew
damp and cold on her neck and shoulders,
for her cloak was thrown loosely around
her, that her beauty might iu i be entirely
veiled, till the gaze of admiration was
withdrawn.
Alines sat by the lonely liresule, waiting
for the return of KUeii. For a while she
kept up a cheerful blaze, and as she heard
the gust sweep by the windows, it remind
ed her that Ellen would probably come in
shivering with cold and reproach her, if
she did not find a glowing hearth to wel
come her. She applied fresh fuel, till,
lulled by the monotonous sound of the
wind, she fell asleep in her chair, nor wak
ed till the voice of Ellen roused her from
her slumbers. A few dull embers wore all
that was left of the tire, the candle gleam
ed faintly beneath a long, gloomy wick—
everything looked cold and comfortless. It
was not long before poor Agnes could re
call the cheering warmth. In the mean
time, Ellen poured upon her a torrent of
reproaches, and tossing her cloak on a chair,
declared she would never go to another
ball as long as she lived —she had been
tired to death , chilled to death, and now to
be vexed to death, by such a stupid, selfish
creature as Agnes. It was too much for
human nature to endure. Agnes bore it
all in silence, for she ate the bread of de
pendence, and dared not express the bitter
feelings that rose to her lips. l>ut she no
longer said in her heart 1 happy, beautiful
Ellen she wished her admirers could see
her as she then did, and be disenchanted.
' Take off this horrid dress,' cried Ellen,
pulling the roses from her hair,' now un
curled by the damp, and hanging in long
straight tresses over her face. What a
contrast did she now present to the brilliant
figure which had left the chamber a few
hours before 1 Her cheeks were pale, her
eyes heavy, her limbs relaxed, her buoyant
spirits gone. The terrible misfortune of
not having reigned an unrivalled belle,
completely overwhelmed her! Lie, whoso
admiration she most prized, had devoted
himself to another, and she hated the fair,
unconscious stranger, who had attracted
him from his allegiance. The costly dress
which the mantuamaker had sat up all
night to complete, was thrown ;iside as a
worthless rug; her flowers were scattered
| on the floor; every article of her dress bore
, witness of her ill-humor.
: ' I cannot get warm,' said she; 'I believe
I have caught my death-cold;' and throw
ing her still shivering limbs on the bed,
i she told Agnes to bury her in blankets,
and then let her sleep. Can we suppose
that guardian arfgcls hovered oyer the
; couch, and watched the slumbers of this
youthful beauty ? There was no hallowed
spot in her chamber, where she was aecus
j turned to kneel in penitence,gratitude,and
i adoration, before the King of Kings and
Lord of Lords. Perhaps, when a mere
child, she had been taught to repeat the
Lord's Prayer at her nurse's knee, but
never had her heart ascended unto him,
Lwhu created her for his glory, and breathed
: into In r frame a portion of Lis own iinmor
j tal Spirit. She had been educated solely
i for the circles of fashion, to glitter and be
j admired—to dance, to sing, to dress, to
talk, and that was all. She knew that she
must one day die, and when the hell tolled,
and the lung funeral darkened the way,
she was reluctantly reminded of her own
mortality. But she banished the dreadful
and mysterious thought, as one with which
youth, beauty, ami health had nothing to
do, ami as suited only to the infirmities ol'
age, and the agonies of disease. As for
the julgment beyond the grave, that scene
of indescribable grandeur, whew every
created being must stand before the pres
ence of uncre .ted glory,'to give an account
of the deeds done in the body,' she deemed
it shocking and sacrilegious to think of a
subject so awful; and, to do her justice,
she never heard it mentioned except from \
the pulpit ( for there are fashionable church
es, and Ellen was the belle of the church
as well as of the ball room.) '1 bus living
in practical atheism, laboring to bring ev
ery thought and feeling in subjection to
the bond of fashion, endeavoring fo anni
hilate the great principle of immortality
struggling within her, Ellen Loving was as
much the slave of vice as the votary of
pleasure. Like the king of Babylon, who
took t ho golden vessels from the temple of
the Lord, and desecrated them at his un
hallowed banquet, site had robbed her soul,
that temple of the living (jod. of its sa
cred treasures, and appropriated them to
the revelries ol" life. But the hour was
approaching, when the invisible angel of
conscience was to write on the walls of
memory those mystic diameters which a
greater than Panic! alone can interpret.
so EN i: SECOND.
It was in the afternoon of a mild sum
mer's day, a lovely, smiling, joyous summer
day, when two female figures were seen
slowly walking along a shaded path, that
led from a neat white cottage towards a
neighboring grove. One was beautiful,
both were young, but the beautiful one was
so pale and languid, so fragile and fading,
it was impossible to behold her without the
deepest commiseration. She moved list
lessly on, leaning on the arm of her less
fair, but healthier companion, apparently
insensible of the sweet and glowing sce
nery around her. The birds sung in melo
dious concert, from every : reen bough,
but their music could not gladden her car;
the air played softly through her heavy
locks, but awaked no elastic spring in her
once bounding spirits. It was the late
blooming Ellen Loring, who, according to
the advice of her physician, was inhaling
the country air, to see if it could not im
part an invigorating influence. She had
never recovered from the doadiychill occa
sioned by her exposure, the night of the
ball, when she stood with her thin slippers
and uncovered neck in the snow and the
blast, in all the ' madness of superfluous
health.' It was said sue had caught a
•dreadful cold,' which the warm season
would undoubtedly relieve, and when the
summer came, and her cough continued
with unabated violence, and her flesh and
her strength wasted, she was sent into the
country, assured that a change of air and
daily exercise would infallibly restore her.
The fearful word ronsumplion, which in
the days of Ellen's health was so often on
the mother's lips, was never mentioned
now ; and whenever friends inquired after
Ellen, she always told them, 'she had
i caught a bad cold, which hung on a long
time, but that she was so young, and had
so fine a constitution, she did not appre
hend any danger.' Ellen was very unwil
ling to follow the prescriptions of her med
ical friend. She left the city with great
reluctance, dreading the loneliness of a
country life. Agnes accompanied her, on
whom was imposed the difficult task of
amusing and cheering the invalid, and of
beguiling her of every sense of her danger.
' Be sure,' said Mrs. Loring, when she gave
her parting injunctions to Agnes, ' that
: you do not suffer her to be alone: there is
nothing so disadvantageous to a sick person
as to brood over their own thoughts. It al
ways occasions low spirits. I have put up
a large supply of novels, and when she is
tired of reading herself, you must read to
her, or sing to her, or amuse her iu every
possible manner. If she should be very
ill, you must send for me immediately, but
I have no doubt that in a few weeks she
will be as well as ever.'
Poor Agnes sometimes was tempted to
sink under the weary burden of her cares.
She wondered she had ever thought it a
task to array her for the ball room, or to
wait her return at the midnight hour. But
she no longer envied her, for Ellen pale
and faded, and dejected, was a very differ
ent object from Ellen triumphant in beauty
and bloom. The kind lady with whom
they boarded, had had a rustic seat con
structed under the trees, iu the above-men
tioned grove, for the accommodation of the
invalid. As they now approached it, they
found it already occupied by a gentleman,
who was so intently reading he did not
teem aware of their vicinity. They were
about to retire, when lifting hia eyes, he
rose, and with a benignant countenance,
requested them to he seated. - Ellen was
exhausted from the exercise of her walk;
and, as the stranger was past the meridian
of life, she did not hesitate to accept his
offer, at the same time thanking him for
his courtesy, llis mild, yet serious eyes,
rested on her face, with a look of extreme
commiseration, as with a deep sigh of fa
tigue she leaned on the shoulder of Agnes,
while the hectic flush flitting over her
cheek, betrayed the feverish current that
was flowing in her veins.
• You seem an invalid, my dear young
lady,' said he, so kindly and respectfully,
it was impossible to be offended with the
freedom of the address; ' 1 trust you find
there is a balm in Gilead, a heavenly Phy
sician near.'
Ellen gave him a glance of unspeakable
astonishment, and coldly answered, 'I have
a revere cold, sir—nothing more/
The dry, continuous cough that succeed
ed, was a fearful commentary upon her
words. The stranger seemed one not easi
ly repulsed, and one, too, who had conceiv
ed a sudden and irrepressible interest in
his young companions. Agnes, in arrang
ing Ellen's scarf, dropped a book from her
hand, which he stooped to raise, and as his
eye glanced on the title, the gravity of his
countenance deepened. It was one of
\s last works, in which that master
of glowing language and impassioned ima
ges. has thrown his most powerful spell
around the senses of tiie reader, and daz
zled and bewildered his perceptions of right
and wrong.
(Conclusiau nrxt w.ek.)
Horrible Accident. —The Bultinu re Am
erican of Friday says: A horrible accident
occurred yesterday afternoon at the Mary
land Sugar Refinery, on O'Donnell's wharf,
by which a German, named Ferdinand
Meyer, was dreadfully and no doubt fatally
injured. He was engaged in rolling a hogs
head of sugar from the raising platform on
the eighth floor of the building, when the
chains which supported the platform upon
which he was standing at the time broke
and lie was precipitated with it and the
hogshead to the ground floor, a distance of
eighty feet. The heavy oaken bar upon
which the platform hung was broken also
at the same time. The unfortunate man
was taken up in an insensible condition and
removed to his home, No. 'J.'J East street,
and attended by I>r. Arnold. One side of
his head and skull was terribly injured,
and lie had also suffered contusions in vari
ous parts of his person. lie was stiil alive,
hut in an insensible condition, at a late
hour last evening, but it is impossible for
him to survive the accident. Meyer is
represented to have been a very steady and
industrious man. and has a family, consist
ing of a wife and three children.
Suicide of a Female llone 77,!■/.
Wc learn from tlic Kingston, C. W., News,
that a woman in man's attire, committed
suicide by poisoning herself, at McKay's
Hotel, St. Mary's, on Tuesday evening last.
She had been arrested for horse stealing.
Soon after her arrest she was observed to
put a handkerchief to her lace, for the pur
pose, it was thought at the time, of hiding
iier emotion, but really for the purpose of
swallowing a portion of strychnine and
chloroform which she had prepared, and
concealed for that or some other purpose in
a phial. She was instantly seized with
spasms, and a physician was immediately
sent for. lie arrived in half an hour, but
the woman soon expired. Her name was
Margaret Cook, and she is said to have
been respectably connected in the town of
Woodstock, where some of her friends re
side.
A Snow Fcnre on the Illinois Central
Railroad. —We learn from the Mendota
Press, that the Illinois Central Railroad
have been setting a snow fence from Gale
na to La Salle. The portion of the road
from Dunleith to the former point does not
require that protection, owing to the nature
of the surface. The fence has been set
for seventy-eight miles—on an average
about ten boards high—and will cost when
completed, in the coming Summer, about
one hundred and thirty thousand dollars.
The posts are of oak—very heavy —set
three feet in the ground, and the boards
are put on with regard to permanency. It
is believed that the fence will stand for 40
years. Above La Salle, we learn, little
trouble is apprehended from snow storms
which sometimes prevail in that region.
Miserly. —Two elderly maideu ladies by the
the name of Beard, who lived in a state of
great, if not abjeot, poverty, recently died in
South Gardiner, Mass., within a few days of
each other, and sincg their decease it has been
ascertained fhat they were in possession of
over five thousand dollars worth of property!
New Series-Vol. ill, No. 11.
DEATH OF COL. LEIIMAXOWSKY.
VVc regret to learn that Col. Lehraan
owsky, at one time a resident of Lancaster
county, died in Clark county, lirdiana, on
the 4th inst. He was a Pole by birth, and
an officer under Napoleon during his wars,
lie was a man of great bravery and saw
hard service, as the numerous scars that he
wore testified. Tie won distinguished hon
ors in the service, and was ardently attach
ed to the interests of Napoleon. When
the latter entered France from Elba, Lch
uianowsky, with many others of his old
companions in arms, revolted from the Al
lies and joined Ins standard, the penalty
for which was death, and after the defeat
of Waterloo, his life being forfeited and
himself hunted, he passed through the
most severe trials and privations in attempt
ing to escape to this country, and finally
after two years of stratagem and suffering
that few could have endured, he reached
the United States and settled in this coun
try. He afterwards removed to Washing
ton City, and there became a minister of
the Lutheran denomination, in which ca
pacity he continued to his death. From
Washington lie removed to Indiana, where
he died.
Colonel Lehtnanowsky was a friend and
companion in arms of the late Dr. Jas. C.
Verbekc, of Ilarrisburg. They saw one
another for the last time for many years,
on the memorable battle-field of Waterloo,
from which each escaped a marked victim;
but both reached America unknown to
! each, other, and when by accident they met
in this country their feelings were so over
powering as to deprive both of the power
of utterance for some moments. The
friendship manifested for each other during
their lives seemed greater than the ties of
brothers or kindred; and they have both
gone io their long wished for rest within
the short period of a year, zealous Luther
ans, in the full belief of the. Christian's
hope, happiness hereafter.— Lane. Times.
A RHODE ISLAND MIRACLE.
Three or four weeks ago we published
an account, apparently well authenticated,
that a Mr. Bourne of Westerly, R. 1., had
suddenly become deaf, dumb and blind.
This was followed by an announcement,
soon after, of his recovery, both the occur
rence and recovery being alike singular
and unaccountable. Says the N. Y. Sun :
.'•On Sunday evening Mr. Bourne related
the circumstances to an audience assembled
in the basement of the Suffolk street
Church. He attributes the event directly
to a Divine interposition, stating that he
was previously leading an unchristian life,
not believing in a God, and exercising a
most uncharitable disposition towards his
neighbors, whom lie had pledged himself
to injure as far as within his power. He
states that after recovering from a fit of
i sickness, on the 28th of last October, as
he wasr leaving home to do some work about
thirty miles distant, when only a few rods
from his house, he became confused and
sat down upon a stone by the side of the
fence, when in a moment or two it seemed
as if some one had pulled a large hat over
his whole frame; first his sight left him,
then his hearing, then the faculty of speak
ing, and lastly, the power of motion was
entirely gone. He was removed to his
house, and on the fourth day his sight was
restored, and about the loth of November,
while standing in the pulpit of the church
in his native village, his hearing and speech
were in a moment restored, and he ejacu
lated a thankful prayer to God for his re
covery. Whatever may be thought of this
account by the public, whether attributed
to mental delusion or whatever cause, the
narrator evidently beiicved in its Providen
tial character, lie spoke in tremulous ac
cents, and with tears in his eyes most of
j the time, and the audience, particularly the
| females, were very much affected.''
HORRIBLE ACCIDENT.
Men Boiled in Liquid Iron. —A French
journal lias the following: From Cher
bourgh we learn the details of a frightful
accident. In the naval workshops of that
town there is a foundry for the manufacture
of heavy iron castings. An immense cru
cible hangs over the furnace, and when
the metal is in a state of fusion, this cru
cible is removed from it by means of ma
chinery, and the glowing ore poured into
moulds which are formed in the sand. It
happened that some twenty workmen were
engaged in the operation of easting, when
suddenly the screw whieli held the handle
of the pot gave way, and in a moment the
liquid metal flooded the workshop like the
lava from a volcano. Ten of the workmen
were overtaken by the flaming torrent, and
their feet and legs literally burnt to ashes.
Some of the men more tortunate than their
fellows, escaped by climbing upon the beams
which supported the roof, where, safe them
selves, they beheld the fearful race between
their unhappy comrades and the molten
iron, which overtook the wretches, shrivel
ling up their limbs with its fiery touch. A
subscription was opened for the poor fel
lows, while waiting for the hospital at Ves
sinot to receive them. The Russian officers
at Cherbourgh, in honor of whom the au
thorities were about to give a ball, sub
scribed liberally for the support of the
victims and their families.
Coining—Groundhog day. Watch it