VOL. LXIL THE LANCASTER INTELLIGENCE& PUBLISHED HTERY TUESDAY ' AT NO. S NORTH DUKE mut., BY GEO. SANDERSON. TERMS SUBEIOHIPTION.—Two Dollars per annum, payable in ad vance. No subscription discontinued until all arrears ages aro paid, unless at the option of the Editor. ADVERTlEBMESTB.—AdvertigementB, not exceeding one, square, (12 lines,) will be inserted three ilexes : for one dollar, and twenty-flue cents for each additional inser tion. Those of greater length in proportion. JOB PUNTING—Such as Band Bills, Posters, pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, Ice., &c., executed with accuracy and on shortest notice. THIS WORLD IS BEAUTIFUL. This world is beautiful—though winter reigni, And sighs the wind the leafless trees among; While bleak and cold it howls along the plains, And hushed in silence is each birdling's song. Tis beautiful when from the darkened sky Falls garnered treasures on the earth below, And clothes it with the robes of purity— The spotless vestments of untrodden snow. 'Tie beautiful when comes the mild, calm day, And nature kindles in the sun's bright beams When floods of sunshine sparkle on his way, And the blue sky, like a vast mirror gleams. 'Tis passing beautiful when sunset glows, Where golden vistas interlude the Beene: When the fair east is blushing like the rose, And day's faint azure slowly fades between 'Tis beautiful and glorious when night Circle= her brow with a fair crown above, <, Studded with stars unutterably bright," Where world on world in shining order move Ay, beautiful and good, and moving still, To the celestial music of the spheres, Till time shall cease, and in thy cyoles will Be swallowed up in the eternal years. THE LITTLE GRAVE. "It's only a little grave," they said, Only just a child that's dead ;" And so they carelessly turned away P rem the mound the spade had made that day A h ! they did not know how deep a shade That little grave had made. I know the coffin was narrow and small, One yard would have served for ample pall ; And ono man in his arms could have borne away The rosewood and its freight of clay. But I know that darling hopes were hid Beneath that little coffin-lid. I know that a mother stood that day With folded hands by that form of clay; know that burning tears were bid 'Ncath the drooping lash and aching lid," And I know her lip, and cheek, and brow, Were almost as white as her baby's now. I know that some things were hid away, The crimson frock, and wrappings gay ; The little sock, and the half-worn shoe, The cap with plumes and tassels blue; And an empty crib, with its covers spread, As white as the face of the Tess dead. , . 'Tis a little grave, but oh! have care! For world-wide hopes are buried there ; And ye, perhaps in coming years, Nay see. like her, through blinding tears, How much of light, how much of joy, Is buried up with an only boy ! JUST IN TIME BY GOETHE. inert Constance, fickle maid, forsook me, For life or joy I cea9ed to care; So to the river I betook me, To finish all my sorrows there. Upon the bank somehow I found me, In dumb despair, my bead a-spin, And things went whirling round and round me, I plunged—no, I was plunging in, When hark ! what was the sudden cry for? 1 turned ray head to snatch a peep; Oh, 'twos a voice to sigh and die for! "Be careful, ! The river's deep!" And lo ! a maid, so fresh, so pretty, A thrill through every vein I felt. Your name, your name. I pray you?" "Kitty.' At charming Kitty's feet I knelt. And then 1 told her all my troubles, , `Her eyelids dropp'd, she held her breath ; The hies I gave, her kiss redoubles, And now—my thoughts don't run on death Froiu the Dublin University Magasine THE LAST VICTIM OF THE SCOTTISH MAIDEN. A Scottish maiden ! What a pleasant vision do not these words call up. Who that has ever kept his twelfth of August on the northern moors could fail to be re minded by them of some bright-eyed High land lassie whom he has met at early dawn of day crossing the mountain stream bare foot, with her plaid thrown over her fair hair;and her clear voice singing out an old sweet ballad of her native land ; or happily, if he had an entree to the homes of the Scottish aristocracy, they will bring before him some yet fairer picture of a pure pale face, where eyes of blue, tender as the morning sky, spoke of a noble and truthful soul within ; and he has learnt to love the race that once had such deadly feuds with his Saxon ancestry, because of the ' glamour' cast around him by the golden-haired daughters of the land. But very different is the real picture of that Scottish maiden of whom we are about to speak ; nor was she any' vision of the fancy, but a terrible reality, whom all men •knew and feared throughout broad Scot land, two hundred years ago. A dark and stern lady was she truly, and one who brooked no rivals—for they whom she had once embraced were never clasped to mortal heart again ; and the lovers whom she pillowed on her bosom, slept a sleep that knew no waking. Few there were, even of the bravest, who did not shudder somewhat as they saw her keeping her un changing watch through storm and sun shine, beneath the shadow of old St. Giles, the principal church of the northern capi tal ; and oftentimes, when they saw how the ground beneath her feet was stained with blood, they muttered curses on the loathly maiden,' that had done to death so many a gallant Soot. Yet to some this ghastly lady (which was no other than the public guillotine) appeared to have at tractions, such as a bright-eyed damsel would have envied; for -it is recorded of the noble Marquis of Argyle, the last who had died in her embrace when our story commences, that he ran eagerly up the steps, and exclaimed as he laid his head on the block : This is the sweetest maiden I have ever kissed.' This saying of his was often cited, and the world wondered what hidden pang had so darkened life for the gallant noble, whose homage was courted by the fairest ladies, that he should die with words of such bitter meaning on his lips; but when, some few years later, the maiden pressed with her cold hand the throat of him who proved to be her latest victim, the strange and tragic circumstance of his death obliter ated all recollections of the Marquis and his dying words. It happened, singularly enough, how ever, that these two, the Lord of Argyle and Kendra Hamilton, who succeeded him on the block, had been in life the deadliest enemies ; and by a peculiar chain of cir cumstances, which we shall now proceed to detail, the death of the one caused that of the other. It was about a month after the execution of the Marquis that Hamilton, whose race, so closely allied to the Kings of Sootland r was even prouder than Argyle's, found' himself compelled by political business, to pass a night in the little town of Inver ary, close to Which stood the magnificent castle of the same name, which had been the heritage of, his dead rival. .1 • Never, perhyips, did any one approach tit ilikgo4orp, wAVA,.g i reatep bodaitqmopog,'need earl 3f)filtic) sib noaw .eeaoa Hada iaw odi than lienelm lluailton.', He w . u yo unga Man of tt,:peettliarly . fiery and uepetuens . -disposition of *hem it'was often said thit his love and his - hatred were alike to' he dreaded, ardent and passionate was he in - either. He was the upend son-of . that noble family-of Hamiltens ' between • whom and the Argyles there bad been a deadly fend for many generations past. Never, however, had it burnt more fiercely than in the time of which we write when - the families had been represented by the Mar quis who had just been compelled to lay his lofty head at the maiden's feet, and lienelm, with his wild and angry temper ; for his' elder brother Rag an idiot, who bore the family title, but lacked the wit to defend their honor: when assailed.-- Deep had been the hate_ between Argyle and Hamilton, which the new shed blood of the former had not availed to quench ; for, in addition to the old elan feud, there was a private quarrel between them which had fearfully embittered their traditionary hatred. The Marquis of Argyle had been betrothed almost from boyhood to his cousin, the lady Ellen Graham ; and al though their engagement had been a mat ter of family arrangement, he loved her well and truly ; not so the lady, however. She had not been consulted when she was bound, while yet a child E to the Marquis; and with the true feminine spirit of con tradiction, she resolved to choose for her self, and-accepted the addresses of Benelm Hamilton, who, by some unlucky chance, had fallen in love with his rival's bride. Their wedding was even now fixed to take place in a few months, and this circum stance, no doubt, explained the last words of Argyle, which were destined to be the means of one -day bringing his enemy - to the arms of this same cruel maiden, whom he himself had embraced with so much fervor. And now the recollection of that last bloody scene was, doubtless, heavy on the heart of Hamilton as he rode down the path which led to Inverary Castle and the little village that lay at its foot. It was a cold and gloomy winter night ; the dark ness was intense, and the wild north wind went shrieking and howling through the pass as if it bore upon its wings the souls of those who had expired in some great agony, while the dark Sentch 'firs stood up like spectres among the bleak' gray rooks. Truly it was an evening on which the stoutest heart might gladly seek a shelter, and Hamilton was fain, though sorely against his will, to rest for the night in the domain of his enemies. This had been no part of his intention when he set out on his journey ; he had then been scum- panied by two of his retainers, and be de signed to have passed at a little distance from Inverary early in the day, and to have lodged for the night in a castle at some distance, and belonging to a kinsman of his own; but, unhappily, that morning one of his guides had been thrown from his horse and injured so•severely that his life was despaired of.. Some hours were spent in conveying the wounded man to a Test ing place ; and Hamilton, whose mission admitted of no delay, was obliged to leave him in charge of his comrade and push on his road, although the short December day was already closing in when he started again. He rode on as rapidly as he could, but the darkness soon became so impenetrable that he repeatedly lost his way ; and when, at last, the lights of Inverary gleamed through the driving mist and rain, he felt that it had become a matter of necessity that he should rest there for the night, as his jaded horse was stumbling at every step from sheer fatigue. In those turbulent times, when every man's hand was against his fellow. there would have been considerable risk in am ilton's venturing into Inverary, an peeially this particular Hamilton, had he been known ; but Kenelm trusted that the darkness of the night would prevent his being seen by any but the landlord of the inn where he meant to sleep, to whom he was personally unknown, and who would not be likely to suspect that a solitary horseman, unattended by a single retainer, could bear so proud a name. In this supposition he was proved to have judged rightly. Kenelin rode unmolested and unobserved through the little town, the streets of which were, in fact, almost deserted ; as the tempestuous weather had driven all the inhabitants into their houses, and he saw, to his great satisfaction, that even the door of the inn was shut—a sufficient proof that no guests were ex pected at the Argyle Arms' that night. The landlord, a Campbell, of course, and as sturdy a Soot as one could wish to see, himself came to the door to welcome the stranger, and after sending his tired horse to the stable, he ushered him into the huge stone kitchen, briefly remarking that he must be content with such cheer as the family provisions could afford, for that he little expected any visitors on a night so uncanny.' Hamilton assured him he was not dis posed to be fastidious, and having thrown off his dripping mantle and disencumbered himself of his heavy riding-boots, he sat down on an oaken settee opposite the huge fireplace ; while Campbell went out to see that the horse was attended to. Left to himself, Kenelm began to look around him, and he was much struck by the scene which presented itself within the room. The hugo fireplace, which was filled up with -wood, sent- a bright and ruddy glow over the - whole room, and lightened up with a brilliant glare the figure of a young woman, who sat at one corner of the ample hearth, and who was the_only other occupant of the apartment besides himself. There was something very peculiar in the appearance of this girl, which rivited Hamilton's gaze in spite of himself. She sat perfectly motionless, excepting for the rapid movement of her fingers, which she was employing, in knitting ; her plaid thrown back from her head left her pale face exposed to view, _which was marked by a singularly frigid and yet by no means vacant expression. This was caused in part, no doubt, by the fixed stare of her large blue eyes, which never moved in their sockets nor brightened with a sparkle of life ; it was evident that she was stone blind, while there lurked certain lines round the thin compressed lips which' seemed to indicate that a c he had alt the acuteness, amounting almost to cunning, which often characterizes persons thus afflicted. The ootintentwoe was far , from beautiful —scarcely even pleasing --yet it impressed Hamilton with a sense of power such as , we often feel, and yet cannot define, in the presenbe of persons unknown to us. She gave no signs of being oonseipns of 4 ‘ THAT COUNTRY IR THR POST PRORPRROUS WHIRR LABOR 00IIILiNDR 4:I - y :Y l; • as - LANCASTER CITY, PA., TUESDAY MORNING, AUGUST 13, 1861; his preeenee, but he felt she was aware that he was in the room; and as he con tinued to watch her sitting there in her strong' impasEdveness, an undefinable .feel ing of shrinking and dread took possession of him, for which- he could not- account. He had been thinking . of big rival's bloody death, and it struck him that the implaca ble maiden' who had taken Argyle's young life; might have been fitly . repre sented by this weird damsel, who- sat there so like a blind inexorable fate, weaving a a web of inevitable doom. The gallant ludghts of those times, who feared either death nor danger, were greatly' prone to superstition ; and Hamil ton, hot-blooded and impetuous as he.was, pnved no exception -to the rule. He, wto,. therefore, heartily glad when the inn keeper returned and broke the ominous silence which had so oppre.4sed him. Here, Elspeth,' said CamPbell address ing the figure, in the broad Scotch of thoie days, which we will not attempt to repro duce, g Here's a gentleman, cold and hungry, come and see what you can find for - his supper.' • Hamilton listened anxiously for the sound of her voice, feeling as if it would be a relief to hear her speak, bat she never opened her lips ; she rose np, how ever, at once, and began to move about in a strange mechanical manner, her blind ness becoming more apparent as she guided herself by 'the touch, while the glaring glassy eye seemed . to him absolutely ghast2 ly, as she passed near him. She placed' some oatmeal cakes and dried fish on the table, along with a jug of whisky, and then returned to her place by the fire, where she sat immovable as before. I Is that your daughter P said Hamilton to the inn-keeper, as she invited him to: draw near and eat. My only child ; and blind from her birth,' was the reply, uttered almost with sternness, as if the subject were painful. Elspeth's not like other folks,, and you had better take no heed of , her.' Hamilton took the hint and said no more, while he applied himself to the Aide fare set before him, with a keen-set appe tite. Nor did he spare the whisky, which was wonderfully cheering after his wet ride • and when he had finished his repast, he felt, as he said, like a new man alto gether. Filling his glass again, he invited. Campbell to join him, and the two began to, converse together on the events of the day. Kenelm sat with his bulk to the blind girl, and, as she never moved or spoke, he soon forgot her presence altogether, and had well nigh forgotten the necessity of con cealing his name and lineage from these retainers of his foes, when he was startled into a sudden remembrance of his position. Alluding to some political event, he men tioned that he had been at Holyrood the day before. Ye come from Edinboro', then,' said the -inn-keeper, kindling with a sudden fierceness, and, clenching his fist, he struck it on the table with a violent blow, ex claiming : c Curses on the bloody city!— the city of murderers ! and may the fire from heaven come down upon it and con sume it !' 4 Amen,' said a deep, stern voice, almost at Kenelm's ear, and he startled involun tarily as he saw that it had come from the -blind woman's lips. Something, too, in the sudden passion of Campbell had stir red the angry blood within himself, a,pd whilst an involuntary instiot told him what train of thought had thus fired the retainer of Argyle, he had much ado to hide his own antagonistic feelings. You speak sharply, Master Campbell,' he said, at last. The capital of Scotland is beholden to you in truth. Ay,' said the Highlander, his brow growing red with suppressed rage ; but why should I curse the senseless stones, though they were stained with the blood of the noble Lord Argyle. Rather let me curse his enemies, who drove him to death —his bitter foes, who had made his life so dark to him that he was fain to break some. petty law that he might die. Curses, then, I say, upon the traitor Hamilton, who stole his bride.' Amen,' the deep voice answered, but this time enelm heard it not ; his fiery passions were aroused beyond control ; he forgot all but that he had been called a traitor, and starting to his feet, he ad vanced on the Campbell, saying : Man, know you to whom you are speak ing ?' I neither know nor care,' said the inn keeper rising, also. But I say yet more : not only curses upon him, the traitor, but upon her his lady light-o'-love, who would have brought a stain upon Argyle's time honored house had she become his bride !' This was too much. another moment Hamilton's dirk was gleaming in his hand. Villain, unsay that word,' he thundered out ; she is as pure as driven snow.' His lady light-o'-love,' repeated Campbell, with a mooking smile, at the same time preparing to defend himself ; but the furious Hamilton had closed with him ere the words had well passed his lips —one fierce struggle followed, then the Highlander fell heavily to the ground as his assailant plunged the dagger into his breast up to the very hilt, exclaiming : Die, then, with the foul lie in your throat.' One deep groan—one strong convulsion of the stalwart limbs, and Campbell was a corpse. - Hamilton stood transfixed, while .his boiling blood gradually subsided, and his passion cooled in the presence of death:— The whole thing had taken place so sud denly, that he could hardly believe the living, breathing man he had been talking to so amicably but a few moments before, was lying there murdered by his own hand. Bat suddenly as he gazed, he felt his flesh creep with a strange horror, as he saw the soulless eyes of the blind maiden upturned , towards him as she knelt on the ground by her dead father, towards whom she had crept"with a step so stealthy that ho had not ,heard her. Hamilton drew back, shud dering, from the fixed stare, so dreadful seemed the expression of hate on her white, ghastly face : but as he receded she crept towards him on her knees and laid her hand, which she had steeped in her father's blood, on his, till it bore the same red stain, and -said in a low stifled voice : You have miifilered him, and you shall die for it.— None saw the murder, for my blind eyes saw it not ; but think not to escape ; the vengeance of Heaven will track you oat one .day.' Then flinging np her arms to Heaven, she exclaimed ••'••• 4 My - father, 0 my. father P and fell upon the corpse with a shriek so wild and piercing, that Ham ilton felt as if it must have rung upon the 9( every pew% in tho town, and reaohed even through the massive 'walls o; Inverary Castle. That cry recalled him to himself ; he must escape right.speedily, or another mo ment would see him surrounded by those whom it must rouse 3. the instinct of: self preservation at once took the place of every other feeling, and with one bound he dart ed•io the outer door, opened it, rushed to the stable, mounted the horse without sad dle or bridle, and the clattering of his horse's feet as he galloped' away, was all that the inhabitants heard of him as they rushed to, thi inn, whence the blind girl's 'shrieks were still heard echoing. liamilton never slackeried his pace till he had laid ten miles between him and In verary..ln those days the course of justice was as stern as it was.summary ; and he felt well assured that the present Marquis of Argyle, the younger brother of his rival, would never rest till he had found out the murderer of his retainer, especially when he heard from Elspeth the oireumstanoes of his death ; and if he succeeded in his search, the services of the 4 maiden' would right speedily be called into , action for Kenelm himself. When at last he ventured, under cover of a fir wood, to stop_hie furious course, he began to consider the best means of avoid ing discovery, with no small anxiety as to the issue. His best hope was, in fact, that none had been present during the murder but the blind girl, who could, not identify him ; and that not a single inhabitant of Inverary had seen him, except her dead father himself. He was, not very far from the house of his kinsman, where he origi nally intended to have passed the night. The time he had spent so fatally in the inn at Inverary had not extended beyond an hour, and the rapid pace et which he had traversed the last ten piles had fully brought him to the time, when he would, according to his ordinary style of .•travel ling, have reached his destination. He therefore resolved to proceed thither at once, as if he were only arriving from the village where he had left his servants, and to trust that no one would ever suspect him of having made his unfortunate detour into the domain of his enemy. This plan succeeded perfectly ; he was expected by his cousin ; and the next morning his ser vant joined him ; having left his comrade doing well, so that no doubt was for a moment entertained that he had ever de viated from the road he had been expected to take, and he had once more started for Edinburg before the news of the murder had spread beyond Inverary. Neverthe less, when the fact did become known, it created a sensation, chiefly owing to the peculiar airoumatancee of the case—a mur der committed by an unknown assassin in presence of one sole witness and that one deprived of the power of seeing the mur derer, was even in those days of bloodshed, a striking event, and the mysterious escape of the criminal seemed altogether unac countable. The Marquis of Argyle, who was at his castle on the fatal night, left no stone un turned in his efforts to discover the per petrator of the deed, being stimulated to unusual activity in the search, by the sus picion he entertained that the assassin was in some way connected with the family of his foes, the Hamiltons. This he gathered from the conversation between the murder er and his victim ; which Elspeth detailed word for word, but afforded no clue what ever to the actual individual, and Kenelm himself was never suspected.. After a few weeks of useless investiga tion the search was given up ; but the details of the murder were carefully record ed by the court of justice, and the Lord of Argyle declared that if ever in his life time the assassin was discovered, he would bring him to the scaffold, be the interval ever so long. Elspeth found a home in the Marquis' household, after the good old fashion of those times, which recognized a claim on the part of all the helpless and afflicted of the elan to find a refuge with the family of their chief, and genelm had, to all appearance, escaped with perfect impunity. Yet he, gay and reckless as he seemed, was secretly haunted by one dark forebod ing, which never left him night 'or day. Campbell was not the first man he had slain in the course of his stormy career ; but he was the first he had murdered; the first whose life he had taken otherwise than in honorable warfare; and already the unfailing retribution of actual crime had commenced in the deep secret of his heart. Wherever he went, alone or in crowds, from the hour when the low solemn warning of the blind girl came to him as he stood with his feet dabbling in the blood of her father, he heard that voice ringing in his ear, and telling him that vengeance would surely find him yet, and the sleep less justice of the Invisible track him out when least he looked for it. Not even the joy -bells, on his wedding morning, could drown that ominous whisper in his soul, nor the sweet tones of the gentle Lady Ellen, while she murmured her bridal vows. Still was it sounding there, when the feeble cry of his first-born spoke of new ties to make his life sweet ; and let& still, he heard it through the firing of the salutes that greeted him as ambassador on a foreign shore. Years passed on, most of which were spent at one of the conti nental courts ; and when, at last, he re turned, with his wife and family, to Edin burgh, the murder of the inn-keeper had not been thought of by any one for a long time past. One day, about a month after his arrival in the Scottish capital, Hamilton was walk ing along the most fashionable part of the old town, where the houses of the nobility were chiefly to be found, when hit; ,atten— tion was attraoted by a fray which was go ing on in the streets between two young men. Such a sight was, by no means un common in those days ; but the fury of the lads was so great that it was evident some serious mischief would ensue if they were not separated. Hamilton, whose Tank in the city entitled him to interfere, at once rushed in between them, calling to them in a loud voice to desist immediately from further quarreling, and with a firm grasp of his strong hands on' the shoulder of each, he sent them reeling to the opposite sides of the street. The affair had collected a considerable crowd, and Hamilton's rank and position were well known amongst them', so that they.all made way for him as he turned to resume his walk.' One moment he stood there in all his proud prosperity, receiving the homage of the people as his right, and scarce bending his lofty head in acknowl edgment of, it-the 'sunshine of 'a - bright glummer sky streaming down upotv his • noble a nd commanding , form seemed but to typify the brilliancy of his worldlyipros- Teets. One moment he stood thus, and the neit f the vengeance that had so lonk tracked his steps unseen laid hold upon. him with a deadly grasp, and the sun of Hamilton's career sunk down to set in blood. A shriek so thrilling and intense that it seemed to pierce , his very heart, suddenly rang - through the air, and all. eyes, as well as his own, were turned to the spot from 'whence it_Appeared to have ' a the re • ausen—art a sight presented itself which caused the statelyllamilton to grow pale and tremble like a child. On • the. highest step of the stone stair which led to the door of the Marquis of Argyle's town residence, 'a tall 'haggard-looking , weriaii: was standing—her arms were ontstretehed towards Hamilton, and ler eyes, whose glassy vaoattey 3 "showed - ttuit they were sightless, seemed to glsrempon' him with a horrible triumph as, she shrieked out - in tones that were heard far and near': ' Seize him! seize that man whoever he . may ,be—he is the murderer of my father, I know him by his voice. Many .of Argyle's retainers were amongst the crowd. and the Marquis himself had been drawn to the window by the' noise of the quarrel. All knew Elspeth Campbell, the blind woman, and remembered her father's mys terious murder—all could testify to the atioateness of her sense °Cheering; and to the repeated expression of her longing de sire that she might hear the voice of the assassin so long sought for in vain, for she remembered the full' rich tones that bad called on her fathezto unsay his words one instant ore he fell corpse, and she felt certain she could know them again if she could but once hear the murderer speak`; and now, after the lapse of all these years, the well-known voice had struck her ear, and again and again she screamed out ; Seize him ! I know he is my father's mur-. derer.' In- another moment Argyle was confrontini Hamilton, too thankful to have such a charge established against his an— cient enemy. The people crowded round, and if they had been disposed to doubt the blind woman's recognition, Hamilton's own awe-struck conscience sat a seal upon its truth, for he attempted no defence but kept his appalled look still fixed upon the blind woman's ghastly face ; he let his hands fall at his side and exclaimed : It is the hand of God, and I am lost. He spoke truly, he was lost indeed.— Argyle speedily brought him to justice.— The blind woman's evidence was unques— tionable, nor. did he attempt to controvert it ; it was as if the very blood of the mur dered man had risen up to cry for venge ance ; and all men deemed it a lightens sentence which doomed him to the scaffold. Not many days after that bright morn— i.kg when he stood, as it seemed, on the pinnacle of fortime with odmiring crowds around him, he found himself again tha centre of a large assemblage, the object of interest to all. The deadly maiden had been prepared to receive another victim, and at her feet the noble Lady Ellen Ham ilton sat weeping bitterest tears, as she saw the lover of her youth, the husband of her riper years, led up to die. They let him pause one instant to take leave of her. 'My Ellen do not weep,' he said, this is but the work of God's un— sleeping justice. I ever knew that I must die for that rash deed. The blind woman's voice has haunted me through all these years, as it seems mine has haunted her'. She told me vengeance would overtake me, and it is come—merciful it is that it meets me on the scaffold and not in the fires of hell. He kissed her pale lips and passed on. Still nearer to the fatal maiden stood the blind woman, who had murdered him as surely as he killed her father. He laid his hand on hers : Elspeth, you are aven ged,' he said : lam about to die. Now, let your hatred pass away, and piay for me.' g I she answered, = and tears fell from her sightless eyes as he passed on to suffer. In another instant the maiden had done her work, and the last of her victims lay slaughtered in her terrible embrace. The instrument of death thus strangely named was never used again. It was su— perseded by the more modern fashion of executing criminals, and it may now be seen in the Museum of the Society of An tiquaries in Edinburgh, with the dark stains yet corroding on the fatal knife, which were left there by the blood of him who in very deed and truth was brought to justice by the signal retribution we have recorded. Waterloo the d a y after the Bat- On the surface of two square miles, it was ascertained that fifty thousand men and horses were lying ! The luxurious crop of ripe grain which had covered the field of battle was reduced to litter, and beaten into the earth, and the surface trodden down by the cavalry and furrowed deeply by the can non wheels, strewed with many a relic of the fight. Helmets and cuirasses shatter ed fire-arms and broken swords ; all the va riety of military ornaments, lancer caps and Highland bonnets; uniforms of every color, plumes and pennon; musical instru ments, the apparatus of artillery, drums, bugles ? but, good God ! why dwell on the harrowing picture of a fonghten field 1-- each and every ruinous display here bore testimony to the misery of such a battle. * * Could the melwholy appearance of this scene of death be brightened, it it would be by witnessing the researches of the living,' amid its desolation, for the objects of their love. Mothers and wives and children for days were occupied in that mournful duty ; and the confusion of the • corptes—friend and foe intermingled as they were—often rendered the attempt at recognizing individuals 'difficult, and sometimes impossible. * • ir In many places the , dead lay four deep upon each other, marking the spot some British square had occupied, exposed for hours to the murderous fire of a French battery. Out side, lancer and ouirrassier. were scattered thickly on the ,earth. Madly attempting to force the serried-bayonets of the Brit ish, they bad fallen in bootless essay by the musketry of the - : inner files. Further on you trace the spot were the cavalry of France and England had enoountered ; ohassenr and hussar were intermingled.; and the heavy Norman horses of thelmper, ial• Guard were interspersed with the gay. chargers. which had carried Albion'a chiv— alry. Here the Highlander and tirailleur, lay side by side, together"; and the heavy dragoon, with green' Erin's badge upon his halo; Via 'grappling in deith . ;ifith the , .9...,,.... _ - 1 , .. L Polish-lancer''On the summit of :the I ridge, the ground "was cumbered With the -dead; and trodden: fetleek deep in the mud add torttiby the frequent rush of rival esti. Alrb the thiek-Strewn =corpses of the Im perial Guard pointed- stut•the spot where NaP9/€19.414a bow oratillaikted •,-,and, the Advance end rePulee - of-tihegeerd Ivafutrace able _toe mass-of fallen Frenchmen: In the hollow beloF r, tb2- „ , , : last struggle , ' : of Franceluta. been,veielyniade for there the Guaril' i attileed:ti meet the British and afford to tfieir disiirgabized companies time to rally. Loire iii a Railroad Cox. " We hatie r- heard of love in a cottage; love by the seashore, and love niifier diffi tildes, but neierintil last Saturdai night, did withesa love in a 'city ' passenger; 'railway - oar. Havi ng bueiness that re-; 'quired our 'attention - -in the northwestern part-of the city until a late honr; we, at o'clock, found our way into one of the Madison.,avenue oars, (No. 40.) At the corner of Franklin and Eutaw streets, a young lady and gentleman entered the car and occupied ti.beat in the corner. Being. a great admirer .of females we stole a glance at the young:lady and were mom-. pensed by beholding a very lovely young Miss with bleak hair and eyes—the latter appearing as if Cupid, the God of love, had determined to dispute the sway of man. Her companion was one of those specimens known as the genus home. He was attired in a bran new suit of Harrison street clothes, and appeared as.gay as a peacock. The first:thing he did after seating him-' self was to encircle the neck of his 00M panicht with Ida left arm, while his right hand grasped her soft and delicate left. Not being used to such scenes, (we being a bachelor), we kept neither eye _open and noted down proceedings in our 100. Clara,' began the passionate lover, ain't this nice, I awow it's better than riding in an oldmmgon. Yes, Josh,' feebly articulated Clara. But don't hug me so, the folks are look ing at 1113.' Well, let 'em look !' retorted Josh.— ' Guess they would like to be in my place' (We, for one did most heartily envy his situation.) Y Yes, but Josh, you know that they will laugh at us,' meekly rejoined his com panion. 6 Let them laugh,' exclaimed the irate lover. t Don't I love you, and don't you love me, and ain't we going to get married to-morrow Josh at that moment appeared as if a brilliant idea had struck him, for he sud denly bent over and kissed his fair com panion square in her mouth. There,' said he exultingly. Ain't that nice ? You don't allers get them sort,' then turning to the occupants of the oar, he exclaimed : Strangers, me and this young woman have come down from the country to get married. She is a nice gal, and I'm going to do the right thing by her.' During the delivery of this concise speech, Clara's face was suffused with blushes, noticing which, her ardent lover remarked, Don't get so all fired red about the gills, Clara. Yon know we are going to be married, and what's the use to fluster up 7' This last speech settled the business of the passengers. They gave one shout, and relieved their bodies of a charge of laugh ter, that had almost strangled them. At the corner of Calvert and Baltimore streets we vacated the oar, leaving the happy couple as contented as if the future denoted nothing but sunrise and pleasure, and such we trust it may prove. PATRIOTIC SLITUBER AND SENSATION.- Day before yesterday, as the story goes, a devoted member of the church, and a most ardent Union man, attended "divine worship," according to his invaria ble custom ; but the weather being warm and oppressive, the worthy citizen fell asleep in his pew during the early part of the service. He slumbered quite pleasantly, and just before the sermon began the choir and con gregation sang a patriotic hymn, that filled the sleeper's mind with a love of country that Gould not be resisted. The text was, "And what think ye of Christ V' repeated emphatically several times by the minister. This appeal to the slumberer was too direct, and his thoughts becoming confused in his half -wakeful, half-dreaming state, fie forgot where he was and the exact nature of the question, and responded so loudly and distinctly that he could be heard through half of the church. "Think 2 I think and know he is all right ; he's for the Union all the time !" The effect of this unexpected and alto gether secular utterance upon the pions brothers and sisters, may be better fancied than related. A few looked horrified, but more could scarcely refrain from laughter. Yet who shall say the somnolent patriot was not correct in his semi-unconscious de claration 7 117 - Colonel Billy . Wilson's Zouaves are having all sorts of stories told about them. A correspondent of the -sprightly Milwaukee Sentinel tells the following: Recently, a Methodist clergyman went down to Staten Island to exhort them. Billy Wilson drew up his men and called attention!' The parson then gave them a very edifying and appropriate discourse to whieh, in obedience, to the Colonel's commands, they listened attentively.— When the parson had finished, Billy gave his boys' a : short talk, somewhat in this wise: Boys, I want you' to remember what the minister has told you. It is all for your good; take hie advice and follow it; for there is no knowing but that in less than six months every d--d one of you will be in h—l !' Here a voice from the ranks oalled out —' Three cheers for h-1 !' and they were given with a will. The parson, astonished and angry, asked what it meant. Oh!'.says Billy, c the boys don't know much about Scripture. They think h-1 is somewhere . ~ b et t ween Montgomery and New Orleans, t .rt. they are d.—d: anxious to get dowii**it neighborhcod:'. kr A. NTS , D -PAD Thus nearlydia;oaered. invention Pneawtee the Gotha, from being • &flak render* Namur 'late from 'boon: venlenee, and tee great comfort to Mother!; egf.hinineci Sir To be had at ALL LADIES' STORM, and sent free by poet, direct-from-the- iwrentor,-Ibus. ARMYIELD, No. 512 Twelfth. greet, ii r itattiogtfo:4.,,D,43., runitting: the &taint. •- , - Ptgati, ONE NA D T OLLA S R _NAMNTND". GW A . : air 2 4 OVA aufniagew midi to the tads. 16' _ THE LAatiAtITER INTELLIGENCER JOB PRUCTENg BBTirBL/SHMENT, No. 8 NORTH ROHR 13TRINE.WiNOARTRR, PA. The Jobbing, Deparnniutli-thetrOtlBll7 fu rnhihmi with new and elegant type of sewer dearuiptipn, and la under the charge of a practical and:eznerianeed Job Printer... The Proprietors are prepared to . • Nona, LEGAL BLANKS, . _ ARDS AND BILL HEADS AND HANDBICLLS, . - 9 1 . 41-131:411.8 ' ' PROGRAMMES AND POSTERS, PAPER BOOKS AND PAMPHLETS, - BALL TICKETS AND INVITATIONS, PRINTING IN COLORS AND PLAIN: PRINTING, with neatness, accrupoy and dispatch, on themost reasona ble terms, and in a manner not excelled by anyestablish ment inthe dty. air Orders from a distance, by mail of otherwise, promptly attended to. Address • 6180. SANDERSON k SON, Intelllgenoor Office, No. 8 North Enke 'street, Lancaster, Po. S P E Cr I ALAN CV WENTZ It ups: Offer every possible 'lnducement to CASH BUYERS OF DRY .400D8. Determined to reduce their stmic, they give GOOD SAAGIINS. BEAUTIFUL FANCY_ , • At 6% 60, 75, "worth double the meeneye. GRENEDINE AND BEREGF, - GOODS, :About one-half their value. Every, variety and style of , SPRING AND SUMMER DRESS GOODS, BRAWLS, SILK ANDOLOTH CLOAKS AND MANTLES, FRENCH LACE MANTLES, Pointe, Shawls, Bormn, Eugenes, Wrench and. Chanßlla Lace Goode in every style—without regard to coot. 6-4 and il-st Super Black MERINO AND DELAINE'thr Shawls. SON UMBRELLAS AND PARASOLS. LARGE OTOOK OP MEN'S AND BOYS' WEAR, AT LIM MAN MASITPATURBA'S PUGS& Agreat sacrifice la a lot of BEREGES A feD Which are closing out at 1234 cents—one half, .price. • Great bargains in COLLARS and SLEEVES from Auction. WENTZ BROS., East King attd.Centre Square.. June 18 8t 28] AND CATTLE POWDER. TATTERSAL'S HORSE POWDER, HEAVE POWDER, ROSIN, YENNIIGREEK 1317LPERM, , GEUBLM ~ • CREAM SLAM, _ r COPPER.I4 m, For rale et THOMAS ELT.mr TIRWS - Drug a . Chemical Store, West King street, Loner. feb 9 _ S u M ni RI it A 1 ' S • THE HAIL COLUMBIA HAT, 27171 STAR-SPANGLED BANNEE JUT, THE WASHINGTON HAT, THE NATTY BIIHPYII HAT, THE RIP, VAN-WINKLE HA:r, more beautiful beyond comparleon than anything in this hte hitherto offered. 'Scientifically ventilated, national, antfeialmaitly riggeativa of patriotism, and cannot fail to be the Banner -Hat for our young men: They must be seen to be appreclabA A beautiful meet:mut of all styles of STRAW HATS, MILITARY FATIGUE CAPS, IN ALL STYLES AND QUALITIES, Which we are prepared to eell at MOST REASONABLE PRICES, either SINGLE CAPS may 14 tf 18] North Queen . street, Lancaster BOOTS AND SHOIGS For the beet Boots, go to BBENEMABB, W. King Street. Fat For the beet Women's Shoes, go to BILENEIIAN'S, W. King Street For the best Children's Shoes, go to BRENEMAN'S, W. Ring Street For the moat comfortable flt, go to BRENNUAN'S, W. King Street. For work that will not rip, go to BBENEALiN'S, W. King Street For Boots that will - not let in water,igo to BRENKMAN'S, W. King Street Por the largest Stock in town, go to BELENESSANII, W. Bing Street. Ilor the best gook in town, go to BRENEMAN'S, W. King Street. All In want of Boots and Shoes, go to BILENEALAN'S, W. King Street Everybody In the country go to apr 2 tf 12] BANKING HOUSE OF REED, HEN. DERSON & CO.—On the 26th of MARCH, instant, the undersigned, under the firm of REED, HENDERSON & CO., will commence the Bankng Business In its usual J branches at the °Mee hitherto occupied by ohn K. Reed & Co., at the corner of East King and Duke streets, be. Omen the Court House and Sprecher's Hotel, Lancastor, Pa: They will pay interest on deposits at the following rates - . 534 per cent. for 6 months and longer. . 6 6 ' " 30 days and longer. They will buy and sell Stocks and Real. Estate on.com mission, negotiate Loans for others , purChaSe and sell' Bills of Exchange, Promissory Notes, Drafts,. &., &c., &c. The undersigned will be individually liable to the extent of their means for all deposits and other obligations of REED, nr.IIDEBIION k CO. JOHN K. REED;., mar 20 tI 101 MrONIEGMACHER & BAUMAN, TAN -1111 and Carriers Store, back of Robt. hloderwell'e Commission Warehouse, fronting on , the Railroad and North Prince street. Cheap for Cash or approved credit Constantly on. hand a full assortment of alikindaSadcUer's and Shoemaker's Leather ' of superior quality, Including 'Rower's celebrated Sole Leather,".also, Leather Banda, well stretched, suitable for all kinds of machinery, of any length and width required, made of a superior quality of Leather, Furnace Bellows, Band and Lacing Leather Gar den Hose, Tanner's Oil, Carrier's Tools, Morocco,, Shoe Bindings, As. . All kinds old Leather bought In the rough; highest prices given for Hides and Skim in cash; orders will be prompt attended to . tab 5 ly 6 VAN INGEN 411 r, 8 • YDER, DESIGNERS AND ENGRAVERS ON WOOD, N. E. CONNED 6TH AND CHESTNUT f3TEENTS, PHILADELPHIA. Execute all kinds of WOOD ENGRAVING, with beauty, correctness and despatch-Original Designs , furnished for Fine Book Illustrations—Persona wishing Cate, by sending a Photograph or Daguerreotype, can have views of COLLEGES, CHURCHES, COTTAGES, • STORE FRONTS, • PORTRAITS, • MACHINES, • STOVES, PATENTS, Ac. Engraved as well u on personal application. FANCY ENVELOP ES, LABELS, BILL HEADINGS, SHOW BILLS, VISITING,-BUSINESS. and other 'Qum, engraved in the highest style of the Art, and at the lowest price/. For Specimens of Fine Engraving, see the Illustrated Works of J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., E. H. BUTLER & Co., Ac., Ac. ' rect. - 281y 41 ANDREW JACKSON'S REDIEDY Changing the subject, Dr.. Edgar. asked him what he would have done with. Calhoun and other.nulliders if they . had kept on. "Hung them, sir, as high as Haman; was the Instan taneous reply, "They ehonld have been a terror to trial. tors to all time, and posterity would have pronounced ft the best act of my life. • . As he raid - these words, he half rose in his bed, and all the old glowedin his old eyes again. Sep "ASTON'S LIFE OF JACKSON, p. 670, at ELIAS BASE 00'8 New. Book Btore. dee 28 ft 49] F U RNITURE. OF EVERY DESCRIp. Non, Warranted as good as the best, and chesperthan the cheapest—at ILSTCH.Aid'S, Mum gmunt wraw, opr posit* Shenk's National House, Lancaster. N. B. To any one purchasing $OO worth tefore the Mat of November next, 10 per cent. will be allowed for Cash. ang 81 tfSS ATTENTION ! MILITARY BOOKS FOR THE MILLION. HARDEE'S RIFLE AND INFANTRY TACTICS. • 0 GILHAM'S MANUAL. . . BAXTER'S VOLUNTEER'S IHANUAL—RngIith and Ger, , . . man.. ELLSWORTH'S ZOLTAVE DRlLL—with a.sketch of Ida life. THE VOLIINTEER'S TEXT BOOK, containing moat vela. able Information for Officers. Volunteers, and Militia, hi the Camp, Field, or on the March. . ' ' BEADLE'S DIME SQUAD DRILL BOOK. •BEADLE'B;3OZI . OBIO ' STARS' AND STRIPE'S SONGSTER. All the abbey, and a variety of Union Paper, Rnreleiles, Ac., be., for sale at J. M. WESTRASIMER'S June 4 tf It] Corner N. Queen kind Orange streets: • . • •,_ CAROLINA ii , ISIIIJOiry PINE FLOOR.; LNG BoLups,ag,ooo Feet Oaroll4a' Y@llow .12.10 Dressed Flooring Boards. . . 30,000 Feet Bliallndreesed; •: • 50,000 CYPRESS 811INGLE8, No l a n d 2. ~ 50,000 BANGOR PLABTERMIG RATHB,. -; Jnet reoesred and for sale at Gruff's Landing, on. tbi Conestoga: - Apply to GEO MIDIS Co:, - 48 -" . ; Glioalfratprangi st,' • neski N. Gnefa $7, 1 0 8 001080r. . • 'lBBO. • . 4,78 • • • - nENNSYLVANIA PATENT _AGNiN4I4II4 jr PRAZIKLIRENIGAPIP, of Imnatatorittyiebtaift, hollers Patent from, the 11. B. Patent Offlos,, oirthis sqixit nisionable -terms: Dr:Mingo sII Made - -of Machinery ArshiteoMres or &Merl, correctly assented by laa,..4 l Eir wise Deeds, Ronde and other instruments of wri 1. Oflleow-Askienfinnt wad' Mechanical fferth qUernl shrt,Loncquitere. . „ AT TERSALLPiI,DIDAVIC D E R Rovifted, Alitlntony, Fearagiveci Ajbelur tpistra, Air51;43414,111F0, kr& N . seas • Dr" 104110, '1i11641065-IkfrOMPA NO. 31 BY THE QUANTITY BHULTZ & BRO., BRENESIANI3,' Opposite Cooper's Hoel ABIOS S. HENDERSON ISAAC E. WESTER. MMI
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers