if I • Otet t eitt C C VOL. L. Juttiligneer & 3ournat. PUBLISHED EVERY TUESDAY MORNING.. BY GEO. SANDERSON. TERMS: Suasenrrnorr.—Two dollars per annum, payable in advance; two twenty-five, if ndt paid within six months; and two fifty, if not paid within the year. No subscription discontinued until all ar rearages are paid, unless at the option of the Editor. ADVERTISEME:stYS. — Accompanied by the CASH,and not exceeding one square, will be inserted three times for one dollar, and twenty-five cents for each additional insertion. Those of a greater length in proportion. Jon Parrmuo.—Such as Hand Bills, Posting Bills, Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, &c., &c., executed with accuracy and at the shortest notice. Poetto. A DREAM. BY W. CULLEN BRYANT. I had a dream—a strange, wild dream— Said a dear voice at early light; And even yet its shadows seem To linger in my waking sight. Earth, green with spring, and fresh with dew, And bright with morn, before me stood, And airs just wakened softly blew On the young blossoms of the wood. Birds warbled in the sprouting shade, Bees hummed amid the whispering grass, And children prattled as they played Beside the rivulet's dimpling glass. Fast climbed the sunthe flowers were flown; There played no children in the glen; For some were gone, and some were grown To blooming dames and bearded men. , Twas noon," , twas summer—l beheld Woods darkening in the flush of day, And that bright rivulet spread and swelled, A mighty stram, with creek and bay. And here was love, and there was strife, And mirthful shouts and wrathful cries, And strong men, struggling as for life, With knotted limbs and angry eyes. Now stooped the sun—the shades grew thin; The rustling paths were piled with leaves; And sun-burnt groups were gathering in, From the shorn fields, its fuits and sheaves The river heaved with sullen sounds; The chilly wind was sad with moans; Black hearses passed, and burial. grounds Grew thick with monumental stones. Still waned the day; the wind that chased The jagged clouds grew chiller yet; The woods were stripped, the fields were waste; The wintry sun was near its set. Ahd of the young, and strong, and lair, A lonely remnant, gray and weak, . Lingered, and shivered to the air Of that bleak shore and water bleak. Ah! age is &rear, and death is cold! I turned ti, thee, for thou avert near, And Saw thee withered, bowed, and old, And woke, all Taint with sudden fear. 'Tomas thus I heard the dreamer say, And bade her clear her clouded brow; "For thou and 1, since childhood's day, Have walked in such a dream till now "Then, while the shadowy show departs, Watch we with trusting eye, and take, Deep into calm and faithful hearts, Its holy meaning, till we wakd." ' Select -rtile MEETA ; A FRAGMENT. "Ernst Lind the liathsel de, Le ,, ens. finch ~ e lins,t C 5 nm ul.chmal sie to loam. We: aber lose die Ha hsel des To.iteureich.'," "Deep are the mysteries Lifc, ye is it some illl[lgiveu to 115 TO pcne• trztethern. But who can solve she itystery of Death.' , "Auf wiederschen !"—The words were simple, but the low sweet Get man voice that uttered the farewell, was musical as that of a bird and there was a spell deeper than beauty's in the dark eves that looked calmly, yet, as I thought, regretfully, upon us through the thin veil that covered them. The young girl and her companion, an elderly wo man, and a relative. had been our fellow travellers only for a stage or two. on the road to Lucca; they remained there some days, while we hurried us to Modena. Once before we had casually met, at Ba reno, on Lake Maggiore; one glorious evening in that most beautiful of all places. The moon had arisen in the eastern sky as the sun sank behind the Alps; the sou light reposed upon Sesto, and on the Canquil. blue waters, and tipped with silver the orange and myrtle trees, making the wilderness of flowers skirting the path that overhangs the lake, more fragrant and lovely. We strolled along the margin of the water in silent enjoyment of the scene, and passed a g.ottp of three persons, appa rently as mach enchanted as ourselves. Two of them were the females I have mentioned; the third was a gentleman who, as I afterwards learned, was an acquaintance, but did not form one of their travelling party. Never shall I forget the impres sion which the first sight of that pale, youthful lace, lighted up with the earnestness of her absorb. ing admiration, produced upon my mind. I was conscious of a strange sensation of mingled plea sure and pain. The paleness of her complexion was far greater than could be consistent with health ; and there was a depression of the corners of the mouth that indicated habitual suffering. Her eyes were large, and singularly bright, and it was their expression that gave to a countenance, not regular ly handsome, a fascination that rivetted my interest at once. I saw how it was; hers was an instance too common; she was a doomed victim of that fatal malady which has proved the scourge , of northern Europe. She had come, like many others, to seek the renovation of her health under more genial skies;---perhaps to be flattered by a tempo rary revival of the energies of life, then to sink and die suddenly, far from home and friends; or re turn wasted and wretched, in time for them :to re ceive her last breath. There was no hope for her —none! This conviction sank upon my heart as I looked on the young stranger. The light breeze blew aside her hair, - and her shawl dropped from one shoulder; she adjusted it immediately, but I had time to see that the form it covered was sadly attenuated. At the same time her companion to her: " Meeta, this night air is not good for you.' They turned and walked away. In the brief con versation I had with th6m on the journey afterwards. I learned that she was indeed travelling for her health; that the lady with her was an aunt; the means of her father, her only parent, being too limited to allow him to accompany them. He be longed to a respectable, though not aristocratic, class in one of the northern German towns.-- , Meeta bad been in delicate health from childhood; had been nervous, and subject to sleep-walking; and had latterly been attacked by paroxysms that exhausted her strength, though her physician did not think her in immediate danger. He prescribed a strict diet, and a milder climate for the winter. This had been tried, for the winter was now nearly over, without benefit to her health, and they should return homeward as soon as the season was suffi ciently advanced to allow her to do so with safety. We parted, as I said, at Luccai and, interested as I felt for the suffering invalid, I gave her my best wishes, never expecting to behold her again. But there was a cheerful confidence in her tone when she uttered her "Auf wiederschen!" "And we shall meet again, I trust!" said my com panion. I was startled, for I had not observed that he had seemed interested; certainly he had not joined me in questioning the dame. In reply to my question why he was induced to think so, he merely shrug ged his shoulders and sighed; plainly intimating that in the place whither all the living are tending, the kingdom of death, he expected to meet her. "She will be there before you or I," was my half musing remark, to which he returned no answer; yet it was evident our thoughts ran in the same channel. I have said nothing of my companion ; yet I ought to say much in justice to what I received and onjoyed in his society. Our acquaintance had been formed but recently; but in my pride of in sight into human character, I fancied I had read his in its depths. His was a generous and kind nature, and a mind of true refinement. His intel lect was expansive, and at the same time pervading. He had his own rational estimate for all things, and subjects in the world, and was in no wise moved by the judgment of others. At first, this seemed to me like obstinacy or pride of opinion; but I soon saw it arose from his ever calm sell possession, and his clearness of apprehension, that perceived at a glance; and thoroughly. I always found him, at last, in the right, and often had oc casion to rejoice that his purpose had been so inflex ible, even when I had long withstood him. He never exulted in his superiority over me: indeed, so great was the gentleness combined with so powerful an order of mind, that it was a perpetual surprise to me, till I !effected that serenity was the natural result of faculties so well balanced, and humility of an intellect so grand and penetrating. I often compared him with paintings of the great rifnsters I had seen. He possessed the strength of Michael Angelo without his sternness; the expression and tenderness of Raphael without his super-human grace; the richness of Correggio without any of his common-place; the elevation of Guido, with yet little of his imagination about him. This is something poetical. but where is there a more ,poetical subject than human character? It has ever been my delight-to study it; to untold one by one its mysterious pages; and read with eager eyes a volume that speaks more vividly, more in ;e:ibely of the Deity, than the works of external nature. In these latter I used to be an enthusiast: out inanimate indeed were they, unless linked to the ideal, and needed, like the marble of Pygma lion, the artist-embrace to give them life! Count Basil—so I shall call my travelling com panion—had a manner of perfect repose. I might call it a classic repose, but that would give the idea of something elaborate, and his was quite unstudied. unpretending and natural. With all its sim plicity.. however, it was a finish, if I.may so call it, never attained without long attrition with the world Nay. more, it was a stamp vulgar metal 'would nut take: and marked far more decidedly the supe riority of the man than any exterior of rank, or display of wealth could have done. Yet so little commanding was his presence, so subtle *as the distinction about him, that you felt it creditable to your understanding that you recognized. Twenty people might 'have conversed with him hall an hour without discovering him to be any other than an ordinary man; but if one among them had done so. you would have regarded the circumstance as a proof of brighter intellectual discernment. , His features were passionless and inexpressive while at rest; and he had the power, beyond any one I ever knew. of preserving their immobility while speaking, on subjects even of interest. This displeased me Often; but when he smiled, the grace and expression was wonderful, the etkct almost magical; and he often thus unbent in conversation. In the judgment of women, he might have been eminently handsome, though I never heard any one call him so. I say nothing of his beauty, for it does not become one of the same sex to give judg. ment on such a point. To me, he was at all times interesting: and much of the. enjoyment of my journeyings in that storied land was due to the advantage of his varied information, the charm of of his correct and cultivated taste. We mingled little in society, for though I had many letters, I preferred having him to myself ; nay I felt almost jealous at times. that any one should participate with me in what I regarded as a privilege to which I had a pre-eminent claim; his instructive remarks upon the scenery, the works of art, and the living manners of Italy. " • '' Strange, that our thoughts and feelings can be come so linked with others, to whom we are bound by no tie of consanguinity or long acquaintance: there was Count Basil, from whom I could not, for weeks together, have borne the thought of separat ing myself; yet I knew little of him beyond the tact that he was a gentleman, from Stuttgard originally, latterly kcitizen of the world, in easy circumstances, and travelling without the pressure of business. He wight in truth have " bought his doublet in Italy, his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany, and his behavior every where, - -and he spoke several languages with perfect fluency. He was useful as a guide and agreeable as a companion; but how is it that my natural pride did not more frequently rebel, at the superiority he at all times, though quietly enough, asserted and exercised , He it was who always determined our route, made all the arrangements. and decided upon everything. If I had not been too indolent tor reflection, I should have seen that I had become entirely passive, and that he governed my actions completely. If I had been the least suspicious, I should have apprehended some ulterior object in this unitbrm control. But I did not; for I was quite willing to be saved the trouble of de liberation, and I had learned a deference, of which. under the circumstances, I was nowise ashamed. We often talked this over, for I was entirely frank with him. and he seemed so with me. He had a theory of human nature which was then new to me; I have since learned that it is a branch of the philosophy taught in modern German schools. 'Basil was a genuine disciple of Kant. but something or his own he hail grafted on the original stock. 1 listened as he explained his theories, like one in a dream; for his fluency and eloquence, when on his favorite topies, took away from me the power to dispute his assertions, and I was insensibly carried on with him, till brought to assent to propositions I had deemed startling at first. He showed no disposition to triumph when he had thus over powered me;—his object, he said. was to convince, not to persuade. And I could almost imagine my self convinced while his lucid, forcible language sounded in my ears; nor, though afterwards it seemed like sophistry, could I divest myself of an inclination to yield belief. There were no things in heaven or earth which it appeared his philosophy had not "dreamt of;" his mind had surely ranged the universe. Yet he was the mast imaginative of human beings. It was the reflective, not the creative faculties, that were at work. Nor could I call him an enthusiast; his intellect borrowed no stimulus from the impulses of feeling. He might haye made the grandest discoveries without being moved to exclaim, "I have found it!" in the joy of his success. ••,• • • • • Weeks passed on;—how little note we take of the time which is weaving destinies faster than thoughts can fly. We returned by ship from Venice to Trieste. It was sunset when we came on board, and one of those bland, delicious evenings known only to the climate of Italy. The western sky was gorgeously crimson; the breeze just enough to pro pel the vessel, and it seemed life to inhale it. There were few passengers on board, but among them my eyes were not slow to recognize Meeta and her companion. Oh!. how changed she was in that short space of time that had intervened since we parted! She seetned almost spirit-like, so much was her slight frame wasted—so sadly visible were the ravages of disease upon her face. Her corn plexion was so pale, it hardly seemed possible that lite yet animated those features, so youthful, so childlike in their delicate outline. She raised lan guidly the lids that drooped over her dark eyes, and uttered an exclamation of surprise at seeing me; but did not ask after the Count, though she looked around restlessly, as I thought, with the hope of seeing him. I had no time to speak with her, for her companion soon arose and led her to her state-room, casting a glance at me as she pas sed that seemed to say, "Do not speak to her, she is tool weak to linger!" I observed, indeed, that her steps were tottering, and she leaned heavily on the arm of her relative. Moved almost to tears, I sought the Count, and told him how sadly the poor girl was altered. He seemed much interested, but expressed no wish to see her. We remained on deck till late at night, enjoying the luxury of that unrivalled clime, and the balmy sea breeze, and the prospect of soon being again in Germany. I loved Italy, I loved her works of art; but it was painful to live in an atmospharwhose very dreamy lan guor takes away the energyof enterprise, and see nothing but decay around; decay in the proud THAT COUNTRY IS THE MOST PROSPEROUS, WHERE LABOR COMMANDS THE GREATEST REWARD."-BIICHANAN CITY OF LANCASTER, TUESDAY MORNING, AUGUST 28, 1849. monuments of former greatness, and yet more in the spirit that gave birth to them. The beauty I saw suggested but painful reflectl. ,- .s; it was even with a melancholy admiration that t lingered over the creations of art. I poured out these feelings to my companion, buf he seemed to hAtve little sym pathy with them'. His conception T'as of man in the abstract; the rise and fall of nations he looked upon but as the development and progress of the race. I felt almost angry as I heard him speak thus. "I have often thought you like Schilleis Posa," cried I, "but you are even more expansive than he w•as. He entered the lists for the rights of nations, and sacrificed those of individuals. You would immolate all to the species. But your ideal can never be realized." "Not in this age, perhaps," said he, "but though I, like Posa, am a citizen of future times, you must acknowledge me at least more rational than others." And with a smile he repeated— Ersehrocken fliehen sie Vor dem Gespenste ihrer irihern Grosse." This was a truth that admitted no dispute, and I sighed to think how much of the misery and crime of humanity might be traced to it. The Count went on, but we were soon interrupted. The fe male, whom we had seen in company with Meeta. came on deck and approached us hastily. She passed me, and laid her hand imploringly on the CounfS arm. "Will you not come to the poor girl?' she said; "she has asked for you." The Count rose and went with her; I involuntarily tol owed, but stopped as we reached the door of the Mate-room. It was not right for me to intrude upon the invalid, though Heaven knows curiosity was not the feeling that impelled me. "Oh. come in, signor," said the aunt. "Perhaps you may do something for. her; she is in one of her paroxysms. Pity and relieve her, if you can. I am worn out with watching and anxiety." And, in truth, the good woman looked ready to sink in the earth. Weeping, she took my hand, and led me into the small apartment- where Meeta reclined on a couch. She looked like a bowed lily, as she lay motionless, her eyes closed, without sign of life, except a slight convulsive movement 01 the lips, her hands clasped across her breast and appa rently rigid. At a sign from her aunt, the Count approached and bent over, gazing earnestly on her A slight tremor ran through her frame; and with a faint sigh, she opened her eyes, and fixed 'hem on his. Pale and deathlike as she looked, there was the full fire of life in her eyes, that seemed larger and darker than ever Several times she closed and unclosed them; then loosening her fingers from their rigid clasp, she took the Count's hand in her and pressed it against her heart. A faint color came back into her cheeks; she smiled and madejseveral ineffectual efforts to speak; at length said, m a voice so low that I could scarcely catch the words, "At Arona—by the lake—l saw thee." The words were uttered with effort, and the sentence was incomplete, but the Count seemed much startled. He changed color, and glanced at me, then turned again to the young invalid, who still held, his hand clasped in both hers, and pressed to her heart. She said nothing more, but ere lone her features relazed;. she sank back, closed her eyes, and breathed lightly, like one in a gentle slumber. Her relative then motioned us to withdraw, and warmly thanked my companion for his timely aid "It has never passed off so easily before;' said she, "she is commonly much convulsed at the moment the tit leaves her. and she has not spoken before so calmly. Her words are generally wild and incoherent, and it gives her pain to utter them!' "It is strange, said Basil, after we had left her, it was A rona, where, you remember, our windows overhung the water, that I had that singular dream. tier features were the same; yes—it must be so. - I was too much impressed by what had hap pened, to feel inclined. to make light of his vision, or its connection with the being who seemed now to stand in so strange a relation to him. All the reserve that had marked the demeanor of Meeta's relative when , we meet before, was gone. and she found relief in making us acquainted with her distress. The poor girl's malady had increased rapidly after we left her, and had assumed a more alar'ming character. The paroxysms returned more frequently, and, she would talk wildly, when able to speak at all, of one whom •she had met in former ages—so she fancied—and whom she longed to rejoin. So accurately of late had she described his person, that her aunt knew it could be none other than Count Basil, but hesitater to claim his assistance, till driven to do so, by the increasing illness of her niece. "I entreat you, sir," she con• eluded, "not to leave us till we reach Germany Let me but carry her home to die! Let her mourning father receive her, or at least be sent for from Trieste, if her strength fails to go further." This was resolved upon as soon as we landed, for Meeta was too much exhausted for further travel. Lodgings were procured in an elevated situation, and we promised to remain with them, till the arrival of her parent. Not a day passed that the Count was not sum moned to the side of the invalid. for his presence Alone would relieve her. In him she found what she had so long sought and suffered for; and how ever great the physical pain she endured, it gradu ally departed whenever he came near her. On one of thew occasions, while the paroxysm was upon her, she was violently convulsed. Her aunt RlM moned the Count in haste; when he came to her couch, Meeta took both his hands and passed them over her lace, down her shoulders and arms, direct ing him to repeat the motion. He did so; the convulsions ceased, and she became calm. She smiled, and spoke, at first incoherently, but soon more connectedly; but talked of dim and distant things—of objects beyond ordinary sense. I hardly knew whether to believe her dreaming or inspired. "Do you understand here' I asked of the Count. He shook his head. "Not entirely; but she is not less rational on that account."' . _ . . "What do you mean?" .. "I mean that we should be worse than fools, to judge her by the rules of our ordinary senses. She is now beyond them." "Can you account, then, for the influence you possess over herr "The power of the will is sufficient to produce it. Have not you yourself observed or experienced that power in one human being over another?" "True; mind sways mind; but can the will have power over inanimate matter--over the dibea ses of our frame r Basil looked at me earnestly as he replied, in the words of one 01 the philosophers of his native land: "The will is stronger than the angels; yea, it may overcome even death itself" The more I saw of this interesting invalid, the more earnestly I desired to obtain from her some explanation of her own mysterious language. One day, when I saw her under an attack of her mala dy, I ventured to address her for that purpose She did not reply. I soon found she was conscious of the presence of no one but the Count.-- To see if he could induce her to reply to me, Basil took my hand, and placed hers in it; then I repeated my question. She suddenly turned to me, with a bright look of intelligence, but hesitated some time before she answered me, speaking slowly, in her soft tones. "The true life. of man is not that which he en joys through the medium of the senses. There is another, and a higher life; that which was his be fore the spirit was united to flesh; which shall be his again when death sets the spirit free. The soul of every human being is but a portion of the mass of spiritual life. The flesh divides it from its kin dred atoms; but it grieves for the separation, and rushes to embrace again, when the intervening is removed. Even while shrouded in clay, it feels the thrill sent through the mass by the slightest movement of any integral part. Not a thought is born in a single human breast and goes forth into the foreign, but it bears with it a still increasing, still widening influence, for ever and ever." Basil regarded me, as if he would read my opin ion of what she said. I replied to his look, "It were strange if Thought, the noblest offspring , of the Deity, could never perish." The musical voice of Meets. continued: "Some times even in earthly life, the spiritual influence transcends that of the senses. Thus, two meet who have never looked on each other's faces before; their spirits are mutually recognized; they mingle, and clasp each other firmly and for ever. Thus it was, 0 Basil, with me and thee; thou knowest . me not so well, because the earthly shell veiled me, but thee I saw clearly, because my covering is worn so thin, than the immaterial looked through. Could I recover , I should lose thee again, but only for a time." "ds there a nearer affinity, then, between certain spirits, than others?" I asked. • "There is a tendency in universal nature to sup ply that which is wanting by what abounds. Thou seest this is the case in the external world-, so the spiritual life seeks equalization. The strong seeks the feeble; the weak takes refuge with the strong. The powers of Basil yield what my spirit craves; I could not live without him, therefore am I im planted in his essense. I can but speak darkly of those things, for all is yet shadowy and imperfect to my vision. But it will grow stronger day by day." "As your mortal frame grows weaker?" "Even so. But do not imagine there is any in crease in the spiritual power. That is always the same; it ebbs and flows, it is true, but the changes are not in itself, but in its manifestation. The flesh alone changes, and sometimes opposes its barriers more firmly than at others. When the flesh is ready to dissolve, the barriers are shattered, and the light pours in from the vast abyss of universal being. And in health, when the life of the flesh is suspended in dreams, light breaks in, though faintly and fitfully." "Sleep, then, is the waking of the spirit?" "In proportion as the bodily life is suspended, not wholly, for the senses yet mingle in the percep tions of the soul. Hest thou not often been con scious of shadowy recollections at the moment o waking from sldmber? Those were glimpses o the inner life, but they are imperfect and transitory. It is as one who sees the glow of sunset, or sunrise, on some mountain summit, while darkness is yet around him. He sees the distant glow, and knows it is day in some more favored region. So when thoughts come suddenly, and unaccountably, either in sleeping or waking, upon thy soul, thou art wont to say that some good angel, or some invisible power sent the suggestion. That is the flow of the inner life." Much more she said on this subject; and the effort of speaking did not seem to exhaust her, as it always did when not under the influence of her malady. But Basil did not long permit me to talk long at a time with her. On another occasion, I questioned her on the phenomena of trances, and visions, and soothsaying. She called dreams the bridge between the o. ter and inner lite, and referred everything to the ebb and flow of spiritual power. I could not but admire the ingenuity of her theory. "As the physical frame loses its power by age," she continued, "its relation the soul grows weak er; the will has less power over its once ooedient vassal, and the spirit withdraws itself into the inner unconscious life. The alienation increases, tall the last bond that united them is severed, and the treed spirit bounds away. Sometimes it looks forth. while yet imprisoned, with a vision so clear, that it is enabled to foretell the moment of dissolution." I have transferred to my journal much that she said, which I cannot here record; much of the past and of the future—tor she predicted events that have since been accomplished. I observed that her fantasy always obeyed the direction of the Count's will. She would wander, as lie bade her, over the earth, and describe scenes. in places far distant. She could tell the thoughts of many persons, and often answered to his, when he had nut uttered them. Days passed, and while the clairvoyance, or paroxysm, was upon her. she continued to speak eloquently of things beyond the discernment of sense, but in the intervals grew hourly more feeble. She suffered less than formerly, for the will of her friend always soothed her physical pain, and re stored calmness to her. It was not at all times necessary for him to be in her presence to minister relief, but his thoughts could not wander from her without causing her suffering. We had one or two affecting instances of this, and afterwards I observed the Count did not quit the house, though he avoided as much as possible, the painful necessity of being near her. Who could, without emotion. see her sinking under a hopeless malady to the' grave? For a time she was able to sit by the window: then she became too weak to leave her couch; and ere long her faithful relative had to sit by her. bedside, and for hours support the frail form of the dying girl in her arms, to enable her to breathe at all. Still recurred, at the usual intervals, those strange paroxysms; and her eye would kindle with super. natural brilliancy as it rested on him to whom her spirit clung, even when her tongue refused to utter her glowing thoughts. I never saw the Count so much agitated as when he stood thus by her side for the last time. "I go,"—she said, in a voice of strange sweet ness; "fare thee well! My father will arrive too late. But it matters not now. Igo with joy Basil, I await Mee!" And those were her last words; for when consciousness came again, she was speechless. That night she died. • • • * • • I went into the Count's room; he was sitting by his table, his face buried in his hands. Never shall forget the look of deep anguish which met my lance as he raised his head. I saw that he had oved Mesta. "Had she but lived!" exclaimed he in answer to some expression of sympathetic feeling on my part —"had she but lived—so gentle—so earnest—so truthful—with mind so purely clear! Such child like, feminine grace, united to an intellect almost .eraphic ! Could it have been developed, of what were she not capable Though struggling against untoward circumstances,shrouded long in ignorance, it burst forth and shone, alas! too late, except to ,how how noble was that emanation from Divinity —and how glorious it might have been on earth nail long er time been given I" I har dly knew what to make of him ; was he mourning only that a bright soul was lost to the world ! "It might have been mine,"—he continued pas iionately, "to guide, to instruct her; and she would have understood my lessons. In her I might have lived over my youth—the fairest and most joyous, if not the noblest part of our existence. Yes, in her the last trace of the beautiful is gone from this world—henceforth all is gloom!" He covered his face again with his hands, and I saw the strong heart shaken with mighty grief He had loved her; and, in natures like his, how powerful is lore! It is not that passion which exists in the transport of the senses, which mis leads reason in others, and leads to jealousy or re morse, or exhausts itself by its own violence, in capable of continuance ; but love like that the Ger man poetry has illustrated; which purifies wnile it warms the heart; unites calmness with its force; governs all the faculties of the soul; which cannot descend to crime; mysterious, enduring, invincible, inextinguishable, like the intellect in which it has I was about to withdraw, when the Count arose, having regained his composure by a strong effort, and requested me to remain, that we might deter mine what was best to be done. We decided that the burial should be deferred a day or two, that time might be given for her father's arrival. It would be a melancholy consolation for him to look once more upon the mortal remains of his beloved child, before they should be hidden in the tomb. Her relative was incapable of any exertion, for, exhausted by grief and her long anxieties, it was necessary to procure a nurse to attend her till her strength should be restored, so that in common humanity the care of the dead devolved upon us. The first night I watched beside the corpse alone; the next the Count insisted on taking his turn; and, unwilling to leave him in the disquieted state of his mind, I insisted on sharing his melancholy vigil. • • • • • • • • We sat together for hours, alone with the dead; and few words were spoken, for conversation would have desecrated so solemn a scene. The Count was near the window, which commanded a view of the sea. The night was tempestuous, the dash ing of the waves on the shore, and the wild how ling of the wind, was melancholy music enough, but it corresponded with our gloomy thoughts. I remo , red the light several times, to avoid the gusts of wind that poured through numerous crevices in the old-building; and having at last found a shelter ed spot, returne to my seat, to indulge in waking dreams of far distant friends as the hours wore on. - - . Suddenly I was startled by what seemed a move ment from the bed on which the corpse was laid. The blood curdled at my heart for an instant, but my next impulse was to reproach myself for hav ing fallen into momentary slumber. The Cour.t had not seen my forgetfulness; his face was turned away; and, with a resolution to guard against 'the least inclination to sleep, I changed my position. A quarter of an hour passed, during which I be came satisfied that my senses were sufficiently sharpened to discern the least sound, and I was be- ginning to relapse-into my old train of thought, when every faculty was keenly aroused by what I could no longer doubt was a sigh from the inani mate form. It was a sigh-Lthe lightest and faintest—but dis tinctly heard and felt, with thrilling effect, through every fibre of my frame. I sprang to my feet, I came to the bed, and drew aside the covering that shrouded the dead girl. Oh, how wan, yet lovely, was that face in its waxen repose ! Still and death- like she lay; her long light hair was unbound, and lay across her cheek, and on her breast, and on the white robe that shrouded her, so still that it seemed to me I had never seen absolute repose before.— Her white dress was confined at the waist with a girdle, clasped with a silver buckle. Her slender. almost transparent hands, were folded across her bosom. I gazed at her some minutes in breathless attention; then I saw—yes. I saw the lips part almost imperceptibly, and heard the same faint sigh. The lips were tinged with a light rose color. I rushed to the Count, seized his arm, and drew him to the bed, for my emotion denied me the power of speech. Alas! that faint sign of life had already disappeared; the rose hue had vanished from the lips, and they were motionless as white and cold. Basil looked at me as if he would say, "Do you mock my anguish?' and returned to his place. I stood by the bedside with feelings unutterable. Again—and again ; and this time there was no doubt the breast heaved, and there was a convulsive motion in all the features. I seized her hand—it was warm: and when I left it fall it sank on the cushions with the elasticity of life. "She lives!" I shrieked. Basil came to me; I would have called assistance, but he peremptorily forbade it. "We have means at hand," he said, "for her res toration, if she be really living; but do not be de cieved by these appearances; they sometimes occur after death.- I was surprised to hear him speak thus, but yielded to his request; and pouring some liquid from a phial he gave me, I chafed Meeta's hands and forehead, and employed every means of restor ation in my power. These means appeared now to be successful, now to be entirely without effect; yet I continued them mechanically, with a vague hope of I knew not what. I can give no idea of the time employed in this strange and awful occupation; for my,feelings were bound up, like one in a hideous dream. Hours must have passed, and I could not say yet whether she lived or not. But all at once a change took place: she moved, like one waking from sleep. She lifted her arm, so that the white sleeve fell l'rom it. then let it sink again on her breast; she unclasped her hands, but seemed unable to raise them to her face. Soon after, with a slow and languid effort, she rose from the bed and sat upright. Her head drooped, first on cne side, then on the other, as if sleep overpowered her; her lips moved, but no sound came from them, and her eyes were closed. Her hair hung over her face: slowly she raised her hand, and with the thin wasted fingers put aside the locks. Then her hand fell heavily and wearily by her side. The fearful drama went on; she folded her arms on her breast, stood upon her feet, and, with a deeply drawn sigh, opened her eyes. They were bright as ever, but their look of intelligence was gone. She was a sleep-walker, that looks at objects without seeing them, for, though her gaze was fixed on me, she seemed wholly unconscious of my presence. What were my feelings during this frightful enactment of Life in Death? I cannot describe them; nay, I knew not what thiey were. I was conscious of ha one hideous thought, and gasped long for breath before t could give it utterance—tqf you have in deed done this”—cried I to the Count—"if your MILL has indeed summoned this prey of the tomb ere the tomb has received her—back to a ghastly life which is not life—beware what you do! Dis turb not the repose of the dead! Look at her! tl 1 those pale lips could frame language, would they not implore the peace you have impiously marred ?' The Count cast un me a stern glance, and walked across the room to the spot where . stood the Life in-Death. She made a step forward to meet him. waved her hand gently, laid her hand upon his arm and looked in his face with an expression like that of a pleased child, while her lips murmured his name softly. The Count took both her hands in his. and look ed at her fixedly and solemnly. *Lost thou live? he asked. She shook her head, and the expression of pleasure in her eyes gave place to one of deep sadness. The Count suddenly let fall her hands. staggered backwards, and struck his hand against his forehead. "Art thou, then. Oh Heaven! the spectre of her I loved?" The apparition stretched ce:t her arms towards him. nßasil, dear Basil!" she murmured. He approached her, and I saw him shudder as ',ter hand again touched his. She laid one hand upon his shoulder, as if to support herself, and spoke slowly and interruptedly, ' Let me receive strength 'rom thee to speak what I would utter. I live— Basil—but no longer the life of earth, nor yet that of immortality.. Soon I shall live—in the Creator —when thou dost release me [rom this heavy thraldom. Release me, Basil. Call me not back to this cloud-life—that is -agony to tne panting spirit. Give me thy blessing, that I may depart! Bewildered as my senses were to everything else. they were fearfully alive to what passed by that couch of death. The Count placed he: passive twat upon the bed; her eyes closed, but the smile remained on her lips. Again her hands were folded across her breast; her features gradually became rigid; the coldness of death once more settled over them; the grave reclaimed its prey! He covered her face, and led me from her without a word ; and long before the dawn of morning, all was as it had been when we first took our places for that solemn death watch; nor till this record goes forth to the world, will have been known to a single human being, save one, the occurrences of that terrible night. Sclheneck Coach Manufactory, mHE subscriber respectfully informs his friends .1 and customers, that he has now on hand a large stock of C AR RIA GE S, BUGGYS and ROCKAWAYS, of the most approved Eastern patterns, trimmed in the neatest and newest style, and of workmanship that will be sure to recommend itself. Orders for carriages will be punctually attended to, and de livered at any place that may be requested. The subscriber is resolved to do his utmost to please his customers, and in regard to cheapness he is re solved not to be undersold by any shop in the state. He invites his friends to call and examine his work before purchasing elsewhere. He also returns thanks to his customers in different counties, who have so well supported him, thus far. Old carriages and produce taken in exchange for new ones,—and all kinds of repairs executed with cheapness and expedition—such as, painting and trimming old carriages. All kinds of Blacksmith and Wood work, belonging to my business, will be executed. Letters must be addressed to _ _ JESSE REINHOLD, Schceneck P. 0., Lancaster County. May 1, 1849. 6m-14 Ornamental Marble Works. EAST King street, next door to John N. Lane's store.. Charles M. Howell, Marble Mason, respectfully informs the citizens of Lancaster and the public in general, that he carries on the MAR BLE BUSINESS, in all its various branches, and invites all to call on him, as he is satisfied that he can sell cheaper than any other establishment in the city or state. He invites the public to call and examine his stock of finished Mantels, Monuments, Tombs, Grave Stones, and also his collection of designs for Monuments, Tombs, &c., before purchasing else where. jam 16 Removal-Furniture Ware -Room. Olk ._ GEORGE F. ROTE has removed his FURNITURE WSRE-ROOM, to the Mechanics' Institute, in South Quee■ Street, where he will keep on hand, or make to order, at short notice, all the fashionable and plait varieties of Chairs and Furniture . . Persons in want of gocd and cheap Furniture of any description are invited to call before purchasing r The Undertaker's branch of the business particularly attended to. (May / 5 49-16 Mackerel. 50 BARRELS and Bbls. Nos. 1, 2 and 3 Mackerel of the best selection in the Market, and will be sold at a small advance on the Philadelphia Market Prices. No. 80 North Queer: Street, under the Museum. • PINKERTON & SMELTZ. April 3, ,49 4-10 Griel & Gilbert, OF THE NEW YORK STORE ARE now opening a choice and well selected assortment of Goods, suitable for the season, to which they respectfully solicit the attention of purchasers, consisting in part of the following Goods, viz: LADIES' GOODS. Splendid Plain and Embroidered Canton Crape . Shawls from 8 to 30 . dollars. Silk Shawls. Barrage Shawls. Paris Grenadinis and Organdres. Plain and Fancy Barrages, all colors. Mourning goods in great variety. Linen Luster'd Ginghams. Mouslin de Laines, from 12 to 31' cts. Scotch Ginghams. Lawns, beautiful assortment. White Goods for Ladies' Dresses. • Swiss Books, Mulls, Jaconets Nansooks, &c. French Worked Standing Collars. French Embroidered Capes. French and Swiss Edgings and Insertings. Bajou's Kid Gloves, a full assortment. Lisle Thread, Silk Gloves, embroidered and plain. Wide Sash Ribbons, very handsome. Bonnet Ribbons, beautiful assortment. Cap and Fancy Neck Ribbons, very rich. Beflings> Bik and Fancy, full assortment. Parasols and Parasollets, " " Hosiery in All Styles, " " GENTLEMEN'S WEIR. - - . Palm Leaf Hats, a full assortment. Leghorn Braid, Dunstable Braid, Rice Straw and English Braid Hats, in full assortment for Boys and Men. Plain Brown Linen Coating. Fancy Check Linen for Pants and Vests. Plain and Twill'd Blk Summer Cloth. Golden Mini Coddingtons. Blk French Drab d'Ete. 6-4 French Lustering, English new for Gent Summer Coating. 7-4 Single Tsvill'd Blk French Cloth. Silk and Satin Vestings, great variety. White and Fancy Marseilles Vestings. Cravats, Gloves, Collars, Hosiery, &c. &c. May 1, '49 14 HORACE F. ASIF ISAAC R. DILLER Land and General Agency Office, AT THE CAPITAL OF ILLINOIS, CITY OF SPRINGFIELD. To non-residents owners of Illinois Lands—Holders of Illinois Indebtedness, and all persons desirous of purchasing. State lands with Rlinois scrip or bonds. THE undersigned would respectfully inform the public, that they have established in this City —the capital of the state of Illinois—a Land and General Agency Office for the transaction of all business appertaining thereto, within the limits of the State. All transactions relative to the purchase and sale of lands, examining lands and reporting their loca tion, anvantages and value, paying taxes, redeem ing land sold for taxes, investigating titles,&c., buying and selling all descriptions.of state indebt edness, this and every other description of business attached to a General Land Agency on the most extended scale, will be promptly and faithfully attended to. ASH & DILLER SPRINGFIELD, March 14, , 19, REFERENCES. Hon. James Buchanan, Lancaster, Penn'a Benj. Champneys, Reah Frazer, Esq., Wm. t , athiot, Esq., Roland Diller, Esq., Gabriel Davis, Esq., Hon. Daniel Sturgeon, Jas. Coope:, James Fox, Esq., Gen. Robert Patterson, Adam Diller, • Jos. L. Chester, Esq., Col. S. W. Black, Pittsburg, -- His Ex'l A. r French, Governor Illinois. Hon. Thos. H. Campbell, Auditor " John Moore, Treasurer " " S. H. Treat, Judge Supreme Court. " Lyman Trumbull, J. Dean Caton, April 17, 1849. 11 SHENK & LONG'S Coal and Lumber Yard THE subscribers have taken the Coal Yard on 1 Prince Street, in the city of Lancaster, lately owned and occupied by Messrs. B. & J. Reinhold, tvhere they intend keeping a general assoitasent of COAL. FOR FAMILY USE, such as Lykens' Valley, Baltimore Company, Pine- Grove, Shamokin, Pittston, &c., with a great variety of Coal for lime-burning and Sulphur Coal for emithing. Also, a general ASSORTMENT OF LUMBER, will be kept constantly on hand. Having made ar rangements with the Saw . ills, every kind of bill stuff will he furnished at the shortest notice. It is the intention of the subscribers to give their personal attention to the business; and their object will be at all times to please and accommodate all who may favor them with their .custom, pledging themselves to sell as low as any others in the city of Lancaster or its vicinity. Now is the time for Bargains! B. F. SHENK, R. 11. LONG. lr In retiring from business, our friends and the public generally have our thanks for the very libe ral patronage they bestowed upon us while in busi ness, and hope the same may be extended to our successors, Messrs. :Shenk & Long, as we are confident they will merit the confidence of the public. B. & J. REINHOLD. May 27, >49 IS Bibles and Testaments -I -'HE Managers of the Lancaster County Bible Society would respectfully call the attention ol the citizens of the city and county of Lancaster, to their large and beautiful assortment of Bibles and Testaments, constantly kept on hand at the Deposi tory, three doors North of the Post Office: Quarto English Bibles, $250 Do. do. Fancy Binding, 10 plates, 300 Royal Octavo 1 75 Octavo, Small Pica 1 00 Minion 44 Nonpareil 30 32m0. Diamond Gilt Tucks 75 Fine Gilt, without Tucks ' l5O Extra Morocco Gilt 1 75 Quarto German Bibles 350 Smaller " " 1 621 Duodecimo 62, German and English Testaments 44 Testaments and Psalms—large 50 Do do 1 ' small 25 Large sized Testaments 37} Do do cloth 121 Small--new style Binding 7 German Testaments—large 25 Do do small 181 0r Persons unable to purchase at the above prices, will be furnished FREE OF CHARGE, by an order from either of the Directors, or by the Agent and Treasurer. JOHN W. HUBLEY, Treasurer and Librarian May 29, 1849. TWESIIING MACHINE AND IRON FOUNDRY. rp HE Subscriber continues to manufacture at his shop near the Railroad, Lancasttr; Pa., the various patterns of Cog-wheel' Horse Power and Threshing Machines for 1,2 and 4 horses. Endless- Chian Threshing ‘iachines of 1 and 2 horses; Corn Shapers for hand and horse power. A variety of pa terns for Straw and Corn Folder Cutters, in cluding Royer's Patent. Also, Hay and Grain Horse Rakes, and Wheat Drills. CASTINGS for Railroad Cars,Threshing Ma chines, Steam Engines, Mills, orges, Furnaces, Houses, and in short, all kinds of Casting done, we trust, in a manner satisfactory to our customers. Skillful pattern makers ready at all times'to make, alter and repair patterns for castings of all des criptions. All kinds of Turning, Boring, Lathe work and fitting done to meet' the approval of our employers. We respectfully invite all wanting anything in our line to give us a call. WM. KIRKPATRICK Otr" CASH paid for old Castings, or exchanger for new. (May 22,>49-6m-18 Removal. T E. HIESTER, Attorhey at Law , s Has removed to the Office hitherto occupied by Judge Champneys, a few doors west of the Lao caster County Bank, in East King Street. April 3; >49 6m-l a A LEXANDER L. HAYES, ATTORNEY AT LAW: Offtce—Weal King Street, neat door below C. Hager & Son'a Store January 9, >49 Greatest Agricultural Improvementof the Age ! PATATTED, NOVEMZER. 4, 1846, TO H. W. Sktrrit, OF PARADISE, LANCASTER COUNTY. PATENT LEVER DRILL Or grain Planter. THE advantages of this machine are fully estab lished by use and experiment, and are: let, A saving of from two to three pecks of seed per acre. 2d, An equal distribution of any given quantity of seed covered at an uniform depth. . 3d, A saving of labor, as this machine can 'be made to complete from 8 to 18 acres per day. 4th, The grain is not so liable to be thrown out by frost. sth, It stands stronger and firmer, grows more rapidly, is not so liable to be injured by the rust, and overcomes and outgrows the action of the fly. 6th, Where these machines have been used, the saving of seed and increase of product amounted to from 10 to 25 per cent. The great characteristics of this machine, over all others of the kind,.are its simplicity, durability, and economy, and the facility and certainty with which it can be set or altered, by a regulated index and gauge, to drill or- plant any given quantity of per acre at any required depth. "This machine is made with moveable teeth at present, to suit the unevenness of the ground. It will answer alike for rough and smooth land. Manufactured by the Patentee at Concord, Lan caster county. Addrest to Paradise Post Office. H. W. SMITH, Patentee. AGENTS—WE. KIRKFATRICTC, Lancaster City. A. K. & A. L. WITMER, Paradise. OCr Receiving Horse-Rakes for sale at the above places, and at J. RIMPE & Co.'s Hardware Store, Columbia. April 10, '49 Sprecher Sr. Rohrer's Cheap Hard- Ware Store. HARDWARE, Glass, Paints, Oils, and Varnishes at that long established stand, East King st Lancaster, formerly occupied by Howett & Krieder, a few doors east of the Court House, neat door to the Drug Store of James Smith, and opposite Geo. Messenkop's Hotel, which they have recently taken and where they will carry on the Misiness. 'They most respectfully beg leave to invite t 139 attention of their friends and acquaintances to their stock Hardware, which they have just opened and will sell at the most reasonable prices, includ ing every variety of Iron and Steel, Latches, Locks, Bolts, Hinges, Screws, and all kinds of building materials, every description of Files, Blacksmith's Bellows, Saddlery, best warranted Edge Tools, Planes, and Veneers. Also a complete assortment of CEDAR WARE, such as tubs, buckets, butter churns, together with every article in their line. They will keep constantly on hand every variety of Coal and Wood Stoves; also a highly approved COOKING STOVE. The attention of young beginners is particularly called to their full. and complete assortment of household utensils. Determined to spare no pains to accommodate purchasers, and by steady adherence to business, they expect to merit a continuance of the liberal patronage thus far bestowed upon them. GEORGE D. SPRECHER, REUBEN S. ROHRER. Old Metal and Flaxseed taken in exchange for goods. jan ". -50 MONEY LOST—BY NOT CALLING AT Pinkerton ¢ Smeltz's. OUR friends and the public will please read, being that we have just received a splendid assortment of DRY GOODS, &c., which we will sell as low and perhaps a little lower than can be had elsewhere. The style and quality cannot be excelled by any other store ih the city. We most cordially invite all to call and examine our stock of DRY GOODS, Cloths, Cassimeres, Vestings, &c., Changeable and Plain and Satin :71tripe Alpacas, De Lains of various shades, Linen Lustre, Lawns, Gilighams, Calicoes, Hosiery, Gloves, Bleached and Unbleached NI uslins with a variety of - other foreign and domestic Dry Goods. New Holland, Penn'a U. S. Senate Harrisburg, Penn'a Philadelphia, " Groceries and Queensware, Tea, Coffee, vugar, :Molasses, with every article in the grocery line. Oranges, Lemons, Figs, Rai sins, Candies, Almonds, Filberts, Cream and Ground Nuts, &c. Baskets--French and other travelling, also mar keting Baskets, with or without covers, Basket Carriages, Chaire, &c: MACKEREL. 150 Bbls. and ' bhls. of the choicest brands— Mackerel warranted. - `OBACCO AND SEGARS wholesale and retail. We would especially invite the attention of all who wish to purchase articles at the lowest possi ble prides to call at No. 80 North . Queen St., under the Museum, two squares frOm the Court House. PINKERTON & SMELTZ. April 3, '49 Notice to DistiHere. AND ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN TXTHEREAS, I, Jacob Weitzel, of the city of V V Lancaster, coppersmith, have received by let ters Patent, recorded in the Patent offizein the city of Washington, certain useful improvements is the construction of Stills, which improvements consist of an additlonaJ tub, called adr trig tub, which is placed partly above the still, r which tub the doubler is inclosed, the beer which is pumped into the upper tub passes down by a plug pipe into the doubling.tub, where it is brought to a boiling state before it is let into the still, which pipe is opened or stopped when requisite by means of a plug made of wood, copper, or any other material. What I claim as my improvements are the above described doubling tub and the plug by which the beer passes from one tub to the other, or from the tub into the still. Having received information,amounting to proof, that my patent for the above described improve ments has been violated by several distillers in thit county and in various other places, I hereby give notice, that unless those persons who have made use of my invention, or have it now in usey without being authorized by me, come forward and make full reparation for having infringed my patent right, on or before the first day of %larch next, suit will instituted against 111 and every such person or persons : _ JACOB WEITZEL. Feb. 22, 1648 rpHE undersigned adopt this method of inform ing their friends and the public in general, that they have taken the Marble Yard, formerly conducted by Daniel Fagan, situated in North Queen Street, in the city of Lantaster, a few doors north of Van Kanan>s (formerly - Scholfield , s) tavern, whe e they are prepared to execute all orders in their line, in the neatest manner, at the mostPliberal prices, and with every possible expedition : William Leonard acquired a thorough knew' i ge of the business in the most celebrated Marb 13. tablishments in Philadelphia and New Yor., Abner S. Bear was an apprentice to Daniel Fagan, and has had many years experience. As their work is all to be finished by themselves, they feel assured, that they can afford entire satisfaction to their customers. Mr They exhibit John Beard>s.celebrated BOOK OF DESIGNS, embracing a large and attractive variety, from which their patrons canscarcely fail to make satisfactory selections. June 19-6m-21] RIHL & MAYHEW'S - Daguerreotype Rooms, -Over J. P. LONG'S DRUG STORE, Lancaster. FLIER subscribers 'have opened a Room at the above place, and are now prepared to take Portraits °full sizes, ranging in price from $1 00 to $lO 00. Visitors are infbrmed that no portrait will be allowed to leave which is not satisfactary to the sitter. Perfect Pictures guaranteed. If you wish a family group, a portrait of children —if you wish a copy of a Daguerreotype, of a painting or engraving, a portrait of a deceased per son, a view of a public or private building, a por trait set in a breast-pin, bracelet, locket or ring, call upon us. Hours from 8 until sunset. For children from 10 to 3 o'clock. Pictures taken in all weathers. Instructions given and all articles used -in the business furnished at reasonable prices. July 10-6m-24] RIHL & MAYHEW. OFFICE—North Queen Street, first door to the right ofJohn.F . : Longue Drug Store. All kinds of Coitieyancing, Writing Wills; Deetis, Mortgages, Accounts, &c.,will be attended to with correctness and despatch, April 3, '49 NO. 31. SAVINGS INSTITUTION. Marble Yard. WILLIAM LEONARD, ABNER S. BEAR. Geo. W. Hunter, ATTORNEY AT LAW.
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