514 •tsiza r -11!Italigenter,
pUBLIBBBII Evzei 'WEDmitiDAT'33T
COO,PER,',6AApEifB4:I97. di. CO.
J. M. Coomc,
H i:g zm s',
War; A. Mowroir, AMIED &umEwsow
TERNO3-I`wo Dollars and Fifty Cents per
annum, payaDla all cases in advance.
OFFICE-BO'TNWEET MENNE OF - CENTRE
squega. •
letters. - .on business sbould be ad
drese4d Cqopo., 84F33Elt$ON,& CO.
Tittratm.
Row - Godfrey Chose Ms Wi
BY MARY B. CLARICE.
" Godfrey, old boy," said Henry Clay
ton, as he tilted back in his chair, and
put his feet upon the mantle-piece,
" when is the wedding to be.
" Whose wedding ?"
" Miss Laura Somers, orJenny, which
is it ?"
" I do not know, I'm sure."
" NOw don't be mysterious, Godfrey ;
you know you are a constant visitor,
and all our set' are talking about the
match. Don't pretend you have not
selected one of the sisters,"
" How do you know whether either of
them will have me ?,2
"Don't be absurd, old boy. Come be
frank, which is the favorite sister ?"
"Well, frankly then, I cannot tell
you. I have visited the family for sev
eral months, as you know, but I cannot
decide. Laura is certainly the hand
somest, with her flashing black eyes,
and queenly manner ; but Jenny seems,
although the youngest, to be the most
womanly and useful of the two. Yet, I
cannot be i sure of that. My entrance is
the signal for cordial welcome and
smiles, and let me call at what hour I
will, they are always well dressed, and
apparently disengaged. To be sure, I
always, in the morning, have to wait
some time before Laura is visible."
" Pop in unexpectedly, and notice the
internal economy."
" How can I? A card at the door will
put any lady on her guard, or even the
notice of a gentleman visitor."
"Go there in disguise. As a washer
woman, for instance."
"Good. I will."
" Go there as a washerwoman"." cried
Clayton.
"Not exactly; but I will obtain ad
mittance to a morning's privacy."
" Well, let me know the result."
Laura and Jenny Somers were the
only children of a widower, who, al
though in moderate circumstances,
moved in fashionable society. At the
period of my short sketch he was about
to supply the lamented Mrs. Homer's
place, after nearly ten years mourning;,
and, although a kind and indulgent'
parent, had no objections to his daugh
ters' marriage, and, indeed, had told
them so. Laura, whose high spirit re
sented the probable supremacy of a step
mother, had already selected Godfrey
Horton for her future husband ; and
Jenny, who was the younger, and gen
tler in spirit, had tried to conquer a
carefully concealed preference for the
same ~arson. All his attentions were
ascribed by her to a brotherly regard,
though every act of kindness and cour
tesy touched her to her very heart.
It was the morning after a large ball
and the sisters were in the breakfast
room together. Laura, her glossy black
hair pushed negligently off her face,
with the rough, tumbled braids of last
evening's coiffure gathered loosely iu a
comb, wearing a soiled wrapper, torn
stockings, and presented rather an
alarming contrast to the brilliant ball
room belle, was lounging on a sofa.—
Jenny, in a neat morning dress, with a
large gingham apron, and hair smooth
ly brushed into a pretty knot, was wash
ing the breakfast dishes.
"There is an old man at the door with
some artificial flowers," said the ser
vant, opening the dining room door,
"will you see him?"
" No," said Jenny.
" Yes," cried Laura, " send him up."
The servant descended to obey the
last order.
In a few moments the old mein came.
He was poorly clad, with a coarse, blue
cloak, which was much too large for
him. His hair was white, and he wore
a beard and moustache of the same
snowy hue. Making a low bow, he
placed the. large basket upon a table
and opened it.
" I havea bunch of blue flowers here,"
said he, taking them from the basket,
"that will just suit your golden hair,
Miss," and held them up before Jenny.
" It was my sister who wished to look
at your flowers," said Jenny, quietly.
" Yes, b;ing them here," was Laura's
imperious ,command.
The old man's eyes followed Jenny,
as she washed, wiped, and put away the
dishes, swept the room and dusted it,
and then sat down beside Laura, who
was still looking over the basket.
" See, Jenny, this scarlet bunch.
Will it not be lovely with a few dark
leaves, to wear with my new silk ?"
" But," whispered Jenny, " you can
not afford it just now."
"Aes I can. Father gave me some
money yesterday."
" To pay the last dry goods bill."
" Well, I can have that carried to my
private account."
" Oh, Laura ! I hate to hear you talk
of that private acconnt. It seems so
much like cheating father."
" It will stand till I am married, then
I can easily save it out of my house
keeping money."
" I shouldn't wish to marry in debt,"
.said Jenny.
The peddler looked at the sisters.
" You had better take this blue bunch,
Miss," he said to Jenny. ‘ ' If it ain't
convenient to pay for it now, I will call
again.
" No, I shall not take them."
" They are very becoming, Miss.
Look in this glass."
" I:wish my hair was light," said
Laura. "I'd like to wear blue. Godfrey
Horton said last night that forget-me
nots were his favorite flowers."
Jenny colored, and placing the bunch
again in the basket, said : " Come Laura,
decide. You are keeping one waiting
whose time is probably valuable," and
then passing a chair, she added, " Be
seated, sir, you must be tired."
" I am tired, indeed," was the reply.
" I will take that scarlet bunch, and
those red camelias, and this white clus
ter," said Laura.
"But, sister, you can't afford it."
" Yes I can. Godfrey Horton Ls rich."
The old man bit his lip.
" Think," said Jenny, in an under
-tone, "if you love him, how much it
- will grieve him, if he should discover
this deceit."
• " Nonsense! Well, I'll tell you how
-to remedy it. Lend me some money
out of the housekeeping funds?"
"Laura! Steal from father?"
"There, dOn't preach."
• ." Miss Jenny," said a servant, enter
' ing at that moment, "the dinner has
come." • .
Jenny left the room, and Laura still
turned over the gay flowers, while the
old man pointed out their various
beauties, he, in the meantime, was run
ning over the disordered'boiir, shabby
dress, and lazy position, while he men
' 'tally -contrasted them witlaenny's neat
Wire. • ' '
.i:ii '•••••1•'": - •.'" . 7".!';': :7:IT , .
...::-.,:!;-:". 7 1 ,. . , r . .': ~.• - 7 :', r'..:!:; , ` , 7 • ''''• •• • --•
.23,...f.. , ..;.'4 . : .
' :.l ' . l
1 i -
' • ' ' ' ' ••••'
. , , . ' !.• :'• . '.. r..- .: ...2
f.
, ..) i ',i'l' '.'ic..i .' •..-. ',..i,.1,;;•.,- '." • "•• ' • 4' ' .—" f ' .:: - . '
...'.:.- ','-';••„.,-.-.•••• i"__
'in i - ... .: 1 i.d • .
~,..,,
.• '‘ i -,- i ' - 1 '
.: V 'J - v --.,.. • .
.._r:-.._.:- .:.,.:...7.;:fr " - 7.:. atii•L' fp . ''''./ • Ir. '• ••:-'. • 'I t•- , 9if ' '''' 7 ' . -;' : :
: : .91:. ..9 - .••• .. '... '.'..: a•a; - ' • ' . . .
i 9 • Jr•Oi o i l7l •I'•%"' X 9 ' ?.. 1 • ii:,, 97:1 1,.11' , tt)9 iv; ."':''' ,!-"---..--,''
•... j_ , :,. -:, • , ~. -1• I . -, - -•-• .... ,, tr , 1,1 ; •cs" i - r t,.- b 9 .:,...- ~• , ~1 1 ",-: .. - ' l. • - -In ''- -- --i:'
II ;,:..., J-1 ~,,;,,, ~ „, ir:
. . .. ... • • • . ... , .-/ : , .1 -.2t. , -;..i..... 1::. .1 -...11 9• , :. • 1 - .. . .- 1
illi9 .
, ,
•••
•
-,::.1 ;!::. , :""! : . 7 '• • -•
-••'• ''' • • ••• ''
. ~ .
" " " •
44....,...... -•.
• ..
VOLUME 66
"Not.decided yet said Jenny, re
turning after a short absence.
"No. Come here."
" I can't. Father has sent home a
calf's head, and I'm afraid to trust it
entirely to Margaret; I must superin
tend the dinner, make a pudding, and
the parlors must be dusted, and there is
my white mull to be finished."
" Before I'd be the drudge that you
are," cried Laura.
"Drudge! nonsense! I have plenty of
time for enjoyment, and father cannot
have a comfortable house if some one
does not superintend these things.
When I marry, you may do it," and
she laughed merrily.
" As if I should not marry first !"said
Laura.
"There, I have chosen all I want."
"Shall I call again for the change?"
said the peddler. " I shall be happy to
put the Misses Somers on my list of
customers."
"Yes, call again," said Laura.
So the peddler took up his basket,
and walked home, threw aside his wig,
beard, and disguise, and wrote an avow
al of his hand and heart to Miss Jenny
Somers, which was accepted.
Laura Somers had two sources of pro
found speculation. One was "why God
frey Horton proposed to Jenny, instead
of herself?" The other, " I wonder
why that old man Dever called to be
paid for those exquisite flowers ?"
Avoiding a Dun
A compositor in one of the daily news
paper offices, though a good fellow, like
many of the printing profession, (for
they are all good fellows,) suffers from
repeated attacks of limited finances, or
revenue disproportional to his disburse
ments. He has no objections to paying
his debts, even to the last penny, when
he has the money ; but when he is
short, he abhors the idea of meeting his
creditors, for he hates a dun as he hates
the d—l or a dirty " proof." On one of
the last occasions of the pressure upon
typo';i monetary market, he was de
seending from a news room to the street,
when he meta collector, who asked him
if James H. Smith—giving the prin
ter's name—worked in that office.
'Why do you wish to see him ?'
asked Smith.
"I have a bill against him (producing
't) for $29, left by Dr.—, who, you re
,number, recently died, and his accounts
have been placed in my hands for col
lection."
"James H. Smith," replied the com
positor, repeating his own name slowly,
as if it had a mysterious, familiar sound,
and he was endeavoring to recall it. I
have heard that name before, surely—
James H. Smith—James H.—James H.
—oh yes! (as if with sudden remem
brance,) he used to be employed here,
certainly he (lid. I remember now; he
worked next to my case, poor fellow!"
and the speaker paused and looked sad.
" Did anything happen to him'?" ask
ed the collector.
" Yes, - he died one morning suddenly
of the cholera, after attending the sick
bed of a dying friend."
"l)id he leave anything ?" asked the
man of bills.
" Oh, no, the boys in the office had to
bury him. I gave five dollars myself to
help in putting the generous creature
under the sod. He died penniless."
" Then there is no use in keeping this
bill, I suppose."
" None at all," said James H. Smith
And as the collector tore up the bill and
departed, he continued, to himself;
" guess I've got rid of the old bore. It
wasn't, perhaps, much of a story I was
telling. Probably I was only anticipat
ing a little after all—except in the five
dollar contribution."
A Word to Mothers
Each mother is a historian. She
writes not the history of empires or of
nations on paper, but .she writes her
history on the imperishable mind of
her child. That tablet and that history
will remain indelible when time shall
be no more. That history each mother
will meet again, and read with eternal
joy or unutterable grief in the far-corn
ing ages of eternity. This thought
should weigh on the mind of every
mother, and render her deeply circum
spect, and prayerful and faithful in her
solemn work of training her children
for heaven and immortality.
The minds of her children are very
susceptible and easily impressed. A
word, a look, a frown, may engrave au
impressieht on the mind of a child which
no lapse of time can efface or wash out.
il'ou walk along the sea shore when the
tide is out, and you form characters, or
write words, or names in the smooth,
white sand, which is spread out so clear
and beautiful at your feet, according as
your fancy may dictate ; but the return
ing tide shall in a few hours wash out
and efface forever all that you have
written. Not so the lines and characters
of truth or error, which your con
duct imprints on the mind of your child.
There you write impressions fir the
everlasting good or ill of your child,
which neither the floods nor the storms
of the earth can wash out, nor Death's
cold fingers erase, nor the slow moving
ages of eternity obliterate. How care
ful, then, should each mother be of her
treatment of her child. How prayerful,
and how serious and how earnest to
write on the mind those truths which
shall be his guide and teacher when her
voice shall be silent in death, and her
lips no longer move in his behalf, in
commending her dear child to her cove
nant God.
A Fair Offer
A veteran relates the following: It
once happened that a mule driver was
engaged in leading an unruly mule for
a short distance, which job proved
about as much as lie was able to do, and
gave full employment for both his
hands. As lie was thus engaged, a
newly appointed brigadier rode by him
in all the consequential radiance of his
starlight ; when the mule driver hailed
him as follows :
" I say, I. wish that you would send a
couple of men down here to help me to
manage this mule."
The brigadier, indignant at being so
familiarly addressed, sternly replied :
"Do you know who I am, sir!"
" Yes," was the reply, " you are. Ge
neral , I believe."
" Then why do you not salute me be
fore addressing me?" inquired the briga
dier.
" I will," responded the M. D.; "if
you will get oir and hold the mule."
Phe brigadier retired in good order.
Botany is an inexhaustible, tra,n
quil, ever interesting science, attaching
the mind to nature with bonds of flowers,
Many men dediaate business to the
devil and shovel religion into the cracks
and crevices' of time • and make it the
hypobriticalout-einivll34 cot theirleisure
and laziness.
Mary . canayan
An Incident of the Itigh Fandise.o
It became part ri
,of my lot in life tohel
the Irish government (Idling the event
ful pdiod of the Irish famine of 1816 7.
I was a Poor-Law Inspector, and had
a large district in my charge. I had ne-
cessarily to go about a good deal and
visit workhotiSes, hospitals, and relief
stations in the discharge of my duties.
My - mode of conveyance, as a rule, was
an outside Irish jaunting car, and with
horse, or' rather indeed with a pony, I
used of a day sometimes to get over 50
long Irish miles.
I started one morning in the early
spring from my headquarters to visit a
station in a very remote and wild part
of my district, my manservant—coach
man, groom, butler, valet, all comprised
in one very original and funny individ-
ual called " Mick,"—accompanying me.
The night before I left on this particu
lar journey, in which occurred an inci
dent which I arn about to relate, I told
Mick to be sure to stock the " well" of
he car with rye bread, which I used to
bake in my own house, and above all
not to forget to fill my flask with bran
dy, which, as we shall presently see,
was not altogether used for selfish pur
poses. Many a time when I have
been driving along the wild roads I
have seen people who, to my of-
finial knowledge, were in the re
ceipt of the full amount of ration re
lief, literally looking starved. The
avidity with which they seized and de
voured the loaves of rye bread I used to
give them from the "well' satisfied me
hat the money which was sent to us
Poor Law Inspectors from all parts of
the United Kingdom, to expend in auy
way we thought fit, and which for the
most part we applied to the establish
ment of bakehouses, did all the good
which it was intended to do, and even
more than the generous donors could
have anticipated.
I scarcely think I was ever out on a
more lovely day than that to which I
allude, and if one could only have felt
that the people were not dying in hun
dreds throughout the district, and
through the island generally, such a
day, amidst such scenery, would have
brought its fullest enjoyment.
Skirting along lovely lakes, above
which rose hills clad with venerable
beauty, I drove some ten miles, and
then turned off by a mountain road
which led by a long descent to a wild
and barran bog, stretching unbrokenly
for many miles towards the seacost. As
'we got on the bog there was an indica
I stopped to make some inquiries,
when suddenly I felt my knees em
braced, and I saw a girl about 18 years
of age kissing my feet.
" What do you want, my good girl?"
on that there had been a turf road, but I said I.
:radually its traces became more and
ore Indistinct, and we had to make
he best of our way across the "blasted
heath." At last we came to a road
again, and I was enabled to shape my
course for the relief station, which I
was about to inspect.
The path, or road, or whatever else
one might choose to call it, was straight,
and so there was nothing to interrupt
the view right before us.
Mick, who was never much inclined
to wrap himself up in himself, and had
been discoursing eloquently on the value
of good sound roads, giving me his
private opinion as to the character of
that on which we were then travelling,
suddenly called out.
" What o z u earth, sir, is that before
us?"
" Where?" said I.
"Don't you see, sir? The Lord save
us!—a body stretched across the road."
On looking before me, at about a
hundred yards' distance, I saw that to
which Mick directed my attention.
" Yes," said I, " no doubt it is some
poor creature who has died on the way
to the station at —, but \N:e shall soon
know."
On coming up we found it was the
corpse of a woman apparently about 4n
years of age.
Accustomed as I was to see the effects
of famine, I was horrified at the ghastly
appearance which she presented. Her
face was literally so attenuated that I
could see all its venous and arterial
anatomy as well as if the skin had been
removed
While looking at this horrid sight, it
seemed to me that she could not have
been very long dead. I could see no
habitation for miles around. "Possibly,"
I said, " life is not quite extinct," and,
recollecting the little smattering of doc
toring which I learned iu early life, I
thought it worth while to see what effect
a stimulant might have.
" Bring me my brandy flask at once,
Mick," said I, " and help me to _raise
her head."
" For what, sir ?" said he. " Bedad,
it would take more than your honor
could do to bring her back again."
" Well," I added, "do what I tell
you, Mick, and let us hope for the best."
We lifted her body and placed it
against a little hillock which was quite I
close to where we found the woman,
and lat once proceeded to open her
mouth, a proceeding attended with con
siderable difficulty. Holding her head
back I managed to pour nearly half the
contents of my flask (a pretty large one,
by the way) down her throat, when
suddenly I felt a sort of convulsion at the
back of her neck which rested on my
baud. This convulsion was to my great
delight speedily followed by a faint hic
cough, and I at once made up my mind
that if I only persevered, I might have
the intense satisfaction of restoring a
fellow creature to life.
Mick, and I then set to work, and,
taking the cushion of the car, we stretch
ed our poor patient in a recumbent posi
tion. We then commenced to rub the
extremities, which were like ice, and
with a good will we rubbed until
We were rewarded by seeing the head
move, the lips twitch, and various other
indications of returning vitality. But
to succeed must be a work of some time
and here we were nearly fifteen miles
away from the station. We worked on
however, for a little time longer, and I
then determined to get as fast as I could
to my 'destination. We placed her on
the car in a sitting position, and started
for —.
We had not gone more than four or
five hundred yards when we encoun
tered a most abominable stench, which
was so sickly that'l determined to stop
and ascertain what it was. Looking to
the right, our attention was directed to
a thin column of bluish sntioke, which
came out of the hog. Walking over to
the place from whence the smoke issued
'and scarcely able to breathe from the
offensive odor, which became worse and
worse, I found to . - my horror that the
smoke was from u human habitation, if
such it could be called—an old gravel
pit, 'in which I very soon found tp
9ause ‘ a 'the stench : Here were laying .
two bodies in an adVariced stage of de-,
.compositionsn old man and wpan.
shudder now when„l. think of ,t 4
sight I saw. It was horrible beyond de4;
31, 1865.
LANCASTER, .P.A, WaMSDAY 314 9 - ,RNI-N9 - ; -111AY
. ,
scriPtion: ocedried "to me at once
that the woman•welound ,on throat
bad crept out of this hovel on seeing
the car coming across the bog, and had
sunk in the lifeless state of exhaustion
in which we found her. And so it filth
ed out.to be when, I made subsequent
inquiry.
We now resumed our journey, and at
last arrived at the station, where I lost
no time in getting medicalrelief for my
poor patient, and in sending to the gravel
pit to have th e bod ies moved and buried.
The next day I returned to headquart
ers,,aud from time to time afterwards
had letters from the doctor reporting to
me that the woman very speedily re
covered, and out of money placed at my
disposal for charitable purposes I was
enabled ° to contribute to her comfort in'
the shape of clothing.
A couple of months or more passed
away, and the severity of the famine
was mitigated by the abundance of food
which came into the country. The
people began to look better, and every
one was in better spirits.
My visits to the remoter stations of
my district were necessarily fewer, for
I had important duties to discharge at
le town in which I lived, and where
the union workhouse was situated.—
They were now principally directed to
the prevention of abuse iu the adminis
tration of relief. Though the distress•
was still great, yet it was an undoubted
fact within the experience of all those
engaged in the Poor-Law-service, that
abuses crept in to a very large extent,
and it was no easy matter to control
them.
On another lovely morning sow far
advanced in the summer, I again started
for the station at —, near which oc
curred the incident which I have en
deavored to tell. As I passed by the
spot where our progress on the road
was arrested by the body of the poor
woman, Mick said:'
" Ah, your honor, glory be to God and
thanks to you, do you recollect the
crayture we saw here?"
" Yes, Mick," said I, " and I hope we
shall never see such a sight again."
" Amen, sir," said he, giving the
pony a gentle reminder that he was to
get along as quickly as he could. We
drove on for a couple of miles, when we
met a group of peasantry of the 'district
going to the relief station for their ra
tions of Indian meal stirabout.
" Ah! your honor," said she, looking
at me with an expression I can never
forget, " don't you recollect Mary Can
avan ?"
" Mary Canavan ! Surely you canno
be the woman I
" Ah ! yes, sir," she cried.
And there she was, the shrivelled hag
of 40 transformed into a girl of 18, and
all by the simple administration of
wholesome food for a few weeks.
To those who saw scenes such as I did,
this will not appear strange. But even
now, at this lapse of time, when the
reat famine of Ireland when all its
:iorrible circumstances is well-nigh for-
gotten, I venture to tell this story abou
poor Mary Canavan.
Spare Moments.
A lean, awkward boy came one morn
ing to the door of the principal of acele
brated school and asked to see him.
The servant eyed his mean clothes and
thinking he looked more like a beggar
than anything else, told him to go
around to the kitchen. The boy did as
he was bidden, and soon appeared at
he back door.
" You want a breakfast, more like,
lid the servant girl, " and I can give
ou that without troubling him.
Than you," said the boy, " I should
ave no objection to a bite, but I should
ke to see Mr. , if he can. seeme."
"Some old clothes, may be you want,"
remarked the servant, again eyeing the
boy's patched clothes. " I guess he has
none to spare, he gives away a sight,"
and without minding the boy's request,
she went away about her work.
" Can I see Mr.
the boy, after finishing the bread and
butter.
" Well, he is in the library, if he must
be disturbed he must, but he does like
to be.alone sometimes," said the girl in
a peevish tone. She seemed to think it
very foolish to admit such an ill-look
ing fellow into her master's presence.
However, she wiped her hands and bade
him fellow. Opening the library door,
she said:
"Here's somebody, sir, who is dread
ul anxious to see you, and so I let him
I don't know how the boy introduced
himself, or how he opened business, I ut
I know that after talking awhile, the
principal put aside the volume which
he was studying, and took up some
Greet hooks and began to examine the
new comer. The examination lasted
some time. Every question which the
principal asked the boy, was answered
readily.
"Upon my word," exclaimed the
principal, "you certainly do well,"
looking at the boy from head to foot,
over his spectacles. "Why, my boy,
where did you pick up so much ?"
"In my spare moments," answered
the boy.
Here he was,poor, hard working, with
but a few opportunities for schooling
yet almost fitted for college, by simply
improving his "spare moments." Truly,
are not spare moments the " gold dust
of time ?" How precious they should
be? What account can you show for
them? Look and see. This boy can
tell you how very much can be laid up
by improving them, and there are many
other boys, I am, afraid, in jail, in the
house of correction, in the forecastle of
a whale ship, in the tippling shop, who,
if you should ask them when they be
gan their sinful courses, might answer,
" in my spare moments."
" In my spare moments I gambled
for marbles. In my spare moments I
began to smoke and drink. It was in
my spare moments • that I gathered
Wicked associates." • • •
Oh, be "carefuljkow you spend your
spare moments? . Temptation always
hunts you out in seasons like these.
When you are not busy, he gets into
your hearti,ll hdposibly 4 Can, in just
such gaps. There, h6,. : liideS himself,
planning, ail sorts of :naischleti Take
care of yoUr " spare moments."
—"My dear said Mrs. Bumbler
laugh " ,you. must 14ive-somitWag_
warm roimil piakip. thew
, rip : 0.17 ; 34m
B. mentioned the request 04 tterpuPt.her ,
to . lier:pdati;!!tttut hel inittiediatidr coin
"r4id,*-4„4:; " • •
Prieods to Prosperity
One of the hardest trials of 'those who
fall from affluence and honor: to
poverty and obscurity.is to. find that the
attachment of so many in whom they
confided was a Mask, to gain their awn
ends, or. was a miserable shalloWnEsa..
ometimes, doubtless, it is with regret
that these frivolous followers of the
world desert those upon whom they
have fawned ; but they soon forget
them. Flies leave the kitchen when
the dishes .are empty. The parasites
that cluster around the favorite of for
ttine, to gather his gifts and climb -4
by
his aid, linger in the sunshine, but scat
ter at the approach of a storm as the
leaves cling toatree in summer weather,
but drop off at the breath of winter,
and leave it naked to the stinging blast.
Like ravens settled down for a banquet,
suddenly scared by a noise, how quick
ly, at the first sound of calamity, these
superficial earthings are mere specks
on the horizon.
But a true friend sits in the centre,
and is for all times. Our need only re
veals him more fully, and binds him
more closely to us. Prosperity and ad
versity are both revealers, the difference
being that in the former our friends
know us, lathe latter we know them.
But notwithstanding the insincerity
and greediness prevalent among men,
there is a vast deal more esteem and
fellow yearning than is ever outwardly
shown. There are more examples of
unadulterated. affection, more deeds of
silent love and magnanimity than is
usually supposed. Our misfortunes
bring to our side teal friends, before
unknown. Benevolent impulses, where
we could least expect them in modest
privacy, enact many scenes of beautiful
wonder amidst plaudits of angels.
Music as a Physical Agent
It communicates to the body shocks
which agitate the members to their
base. In churches the flame of candles
oscillates to the quake of the organ. A
powerful orchestra near a sheet of water
ruffles its surface. A learned traveller
speaks of an iron ring which swings to
and fro to the murmur of the Tivoli
Falls. In Switzerland I excited at will
in a poor child afflicted with a fright
ful nervous malady, hysterical and
cataleptic crises, by playing in
the minor key of E flat.
The celebrated Dr. Bertier asserts that
the sound of a drum gives the colic.
Certain medical men state that the notes
of the trumpet quicken the pulse and
induce slight perspirations. The sound
of the bassoon is cold, the notes of the
French horn eta distance, and the harp,
are voluptuous. The flute played softly
in the middle register calms the nerves.
I once had a dog who would generally
sleep on hearing music, butthe moment
I played in the minor key he would,
bark piteously. The dog of a celebrated
singer, whom I knew would moan bit
terly, give signs of violent suffering, the
instant that his Mistress chanted a chro
matic gamut. A certain chord produces
on my sense of hearing the same effect
as the heliotrope on my sense of smell
and the pine apple on my sense of taste.
Rachel's voice delighted the ear by its
ring before one had time to seize the
sense of what was said, or appreciate the
purity of her diction. We may affirm,
then, that, musical sound, rythmical or
not, agitates the whole physical econo
my—quickens the pulse, incites perspi
ration, and produces a pleasant momen
tary irritation of the nervous system.—
Got:4,11(.11k.
Don't Complain
Don't complain of your birth, your
training, your employment, your hard
ships ; never fancy you could be some
thing if you only had a different lot or
sphere assigned to you. God understands
his own plans, and knows what you
want a great deal better than you do.
The very things that you most deprecate
as fatal limitations and obs•ti notions, are
probably what you most' want. What
you call hindrances and discourage
ments, are probably God's opportunities
and it is nothing new that the patient
should dislike his medicines, or any
certain proof that they are poisons. No !
a truce to all such impatience. Choke
that devilish envy which gnaws at your
heart because you are not in the same
lot with others ; bring down your soul,
or rather bring it up to receive God's
will, and do his word, in your lot, in
your sphere, under your cloud of ob
scurity, against your temptations ; and
then you shall find that your condition
is never opposed to your own good, but
really consistent with it.
Sea Sounding
Various sea soundings, made by the
new Telegraph Company in England,
in preparation for the laying of the At
lantic submarine cable this summer,
revealthe following results : The Baltic '
sea between Germany and Sweden is
only 120 feet deep, and the Adriatic be
tween Venice and Trieste 130. The
greatest depth of the channel between
France and England does not exceed3oo
whilst to the southw est of Irela n il, Where
the sea is opened, the depth is more
than 2,000 feet. The seas to the south
of Europe are much deeper than those
in the interior:. In the narrowest part
of the Strait of Gibraltar the depth is
only 1,000 feet, while a little more to the
east it is 3,000. On the coast of Spain
the depth is nearly 6,000 feet. At 230
miles south of Nantucket (south of Cape
Cod) no bottom was found at 7,800 feet.
The greatest depths o f all are to be met
within the Southern Ocean. To the
west of the Cape of Good Hope, 16,000
feet have been measured, and to the
west of St. Helena 27,000. Dr. Young
estimates the average depth of the At
lantic at 26,000 feet, and of the Pacific
at 29,000.
IP Whatis a newspaper ?Itis a tran
script of thoughts, and a record of what
is passing in the world. But it is.not
as most books are, the transcripts of the
thoughts of a single, mind. It is an ex
hibition of the thoughts of many minds.
It is collected widom of the world, in
some instances, perhaps, spiced with a
little of the nonsense and folly of the
same minds. It is a bequet of beautiful
flowers, composed of all the varieties in
nature. It is a casket of precious jewels
of every, 'hue, size and shape. It is a
sweet repast, a board spread before the
hungry, comPrisirig'the choiceSt meats
and richest, deserts that earth cati'iiiford
—a feast'sf. fat thinA - s o a perfect
of every dainty that, the mina can desire.
Who would be without a newspaper
Who would he without thee ? None;
we venture to say, except the old fogies
who are a hundred years behind the
age.
-Weak dosei . Of Washboard are now,
reeommoil:ded t 4 ),laOjet WP3INii of
dyspepsia. Tonn a % wen troubhpf.), t in, the
B aum _way may ha cgred by a ,strong.
preparation of wood taw,
gttiorelatiiono.
Letter from Jacob Thompson
atiaa-,State Saverelgaty—aiwil
War.
To the .'them cy' the Y. Tribune: .
When hostilities between the North
ern and Southern States bioke out, and
especially prior to that time, I enter
tained, I confess, deep and strong pre
judices against you and your paper, on
account of your violent attacks npou
Southern interests and institutions.—
But since that'time I have really sought
the Tribune to learn the truth. There
is a frank and manly directness in your
columns which I admire, and therefore I
now make an appeal to your generosity
to admit this communication into the
columns of the Tribune.' Surely' there
can be no longer any existing reason
why Northern papers should desire to
stain and stab the reputation of Southern
men ; and I suppose the press will be
muzzled no longer, and a difference of
opinion no longer be regarded as treason.
The search of a good man is for truth.
To: set that before the people of the
United States is the work in wkich I
ask your assistance and that of Alt who
hate unjust persecution.
'I have been attacked often in North
etn journals within the last four years,
but heretofore have attempted no reply.
To defer longer, however, if the avenues
to the public ear are open to me, would
argue contempt for public sentiment on
my part which I do not feel, and absence
Might be construed into an admission
of the justness of the attacks.
Last summer, when my name was
unnecessarily drawn into a correspond-
enee between yourself and some of my
friends at Niagara Falls, the New York
Times began a regular charge upon me
for "thieving," while Secretary of the
Interior, u.ing the epithet " Mr. Bu-
chanan's thieving Secretary," and
others of the same purport. The Herald
afterwards indulged iu the same kind
of 'expressions. What was the transac
tion by which these expressions are
sought to be justified?
there follows an explanation that it
was not Thompson, but one of his clerks,
who stole those Indian bonds.]
An editorial appeared in the New
York Herald evidently suggested by
GenOal Dix, in which the impression
is sought to be made that I was in some
way connected with the hotel burning
n - New York. This seems to be an in
erence from the fact that a Mr. McDon-
Id was arrested and -held in dread of
his life for some time, because of his
supposed participation in this attempt
at incendiarism. The detectives find
out that this McDonald has a brother in
Toronto, C. WI, who is greatly devoted
to him, to whom they make an appeal
to save his brother's life, and point out
to him how it may be (lone, and that
was to appeal to the generosity and mag
nanimity of those who were engaged in
it to exonerate the prisoner, as they had
no doubt it was true he had taken no
part in the affair. The brother, under
the guidance of his feelings, bit at the
bait, and hunted up and induced the
young men with whom his brother was
charged to have been associated to state
his entire innocence of all connection
with them. The young men, fearing the
strength of McDonald's feelings might
induce him to act unwisely with their
statement, and having full confidence in
my discretion and friendliness, directed
him to place it in my hand, to be used
when I might deem it necessary to save
the prisoner's life. I did not see the
young men on the subject. Afterwards
the detectives induced the different
female members of the family to make
the most piteous appeals to me for the
paper. I never believed its production
necessary to save the prisoner's life, be
cause each messenger reported that
Oen. Dix did not believe the prisoner
guilty, but refused to release him until
he could obtain this negative testimony
thus playing upon the feelings of this
most estimable family. When I saw
the game that was played I wrote a
letter to Mr. McDonald in prison, say
ing I was willing to certify that I had a
paper signed by some of the parties en
gaged in the burning, in which he was
entirely exonerated from all participa
tion in it. But this did not satisfy the
authorities. Finding they could not
move me, they turned upon poor Capt.
Kennedy, then under sentence of death,
and induced him (under what circum
stances I know not, but I presume when
he was intoxicated) to certify - to a state
ment as a true copy of the paper I held, :
but which was no copy, and which con-,
tained what I have since ascertained to ;
be absolute falsehoods. They stimulated.
, and excited Capt. Kennedy against me
in every possible way, but they could
not in his most desperate moments get
him to implicate me in the plan for the
burning, because he knew it wti.s false.
Butyou see the extent of my connection.
It assumes this proportion, no more.
But of all the astonishing
things
which have happened during this war
between the States, the late proclamu l
tion''ofthe President is the most un,
reasonable and unjust. It seems there
has been created a new bureau, called
the "Bureau of Military Justice." lii
that it seems there is evidence that the
assassination of the late President was
" incited, concerted and procured by
and between Jefferson Davis, at Rich
mond, Va.," and myself mid others in
Canada, and that myself and others are
rebels and traitors, "harbored in Cana
da." When this proclamation reached
me I was in New Brunswick, on my
way home. This is a novel mode of
banishment. Now, sir, mark how a
direct statement will meet every point
made by the evidence in the " Bureau
of Military Justice" and put to open
shame so:solemn an act as a proclama.-
tion. I aver upon my honor that I
have never known, or conversed, or
held communication, either directly or
indirectly, with Booth, the assassin of
the President, or with any one of his
associates, so far as I have seen them
named. I knew nothing of their plans.
I defy the evidence in the Bureau of
Military Justice. The proof, whatever
it is, is a tissue of falsehoods, and its
publication cannot be made without ex
posing its utter rottenness.
I know there is not half the ground
to suspect me that there is to suspect
President Johnson himself.
First—There was absence of all motive
On my part. To have removed Lincoln
at the time it was done was most un
fortunate both for me and for the peo
ple of the South. This I have believed,
and have often so expressed myself.
President Johnson was to acquire a daz
zling.power in the event of Lincoln's
death.
ASegoncl—A Paper is found in President
Johnson's room, after the assassinaton,
signed by the assassin himself, to the
effect that he (Booth) does not wish to
trouble him (Johnson), but wants to
know if he (Johnson) is in. Now con
sider this note is from a private citizen
to a high official, and it is certain that
if it had been sent by any other man, at
any other time, to any other official
except the one most deeply interested
in the event about to happen, it would
have implied previous intimacy and in
tercourse, and a wish to have an inter
view without witnesses, which the
writer expected, circumstances admit
ting it.
Third—President Johnson goes to
bed, on the night of the assassination,
at the unusual, hour for Washington of
nine o'cloc4, and is asleep, of course,
when an aritious gentleman leaves the
side of the dying. President to inform
the new incumbent of his great good
fortune, which filled him with unutter
able distress.
Now, mark me, I do not say ,that all
this. creates.a suspicion. in my mind of
the complicity of President Johnson in
the fonl work upon President Lincoln:
But ;this I do say; that if such circum
stances could be so well taken against
,8.,G., narris, of Maryland;
Ben.'Wood, of New York, or Mr. Val
landigham o of Ohio, they would have
beenreceived in the. Bureau of Military
• Justimas testimony as strong as, proofs
frqin Holy Writ. These facts may, pos-
Efibly-suggest . to - 1 3 ,reSi4r0 Johnson and
,thosCiwho , o*.e': ; tl/gir ottiotsl goSltion
and;perspnal consequence to the breath
of his nostrils; ugqo - d and sufficient'rea-.
son:why, the.excited. public mind of the.
people of the United litotes, which hai
NVIVIEER .21.
„
been lashed into fury by Well ekinperted
manipuhitions, and now d4inends
victim, should believe that cthere was
evidence in the "Bureau .of Military
Justice" convict Southern men—
"rebels and traitors"—of having "in
cited, concerted and procured" the as
sination of President Lincoln. But, at
all events, these facts ought to teach
President Johnson a lesson of modera-
tion and charity to all those suspected.
I feel ,confident no fact, susceptible of
being 'tortured' by the shrewdest inge
nultr.into a coloring so unfavorable,
can be shown in truth against President
Davis or myself, nor, do I believe,
against any, pne of the gentlemen nam
ed in the prochunation.
Again, I atn denounced as a traitor
and rebel in this proclamation. Let the
world judgebetween President Johnson.
mcal.myself, not according to the law of
might, but according to the rules of
right.
For four years prior to the secession of
Mississippi, I was absent from the State,
engaged in the service of the United
State;. I had no control and could ex-
ert no influence over the political action
of the State. President Johnson, on the
contrary, had been in the meantime in
the service of the State of Tennessee, a
while her chief magistrate, and then the
representative of her sovereignty in the
Senate of the United States—a body in
which all the States are sovereign and
equal, irrespective of strength and popu
lation. Prior to the war between the
States, we both had been democrats and
belonged to the same party. In our creed,
the Virginia and Kentucky resolutions
of '9B-'99 set forth the doctrine of State
rights. The Democratic party for sixty
years, with only temporary departures,
had held to their cardinal principles as
initiated by Jefferson and Madison
who had become the great apostles of
the party. By them, we learn that the
Constitution of the United States is a
compact between sovereign States, each
State, acting for itself, and as an integral
party. The powers granted were
merely delegated powers, to be exercis
ed by a common agency for the common
- welfare. To avoid future misunder
standings, three of the States, in their
articles of ratification, expressly re
served the right to resume the powers
delegated whenever they believed they
were not used for their advantage. On
the subject of treason the United States
could declare no act treason, except the
making war upon the United States and
the giving aid and comfort to the enemy.
Each State, however, being sovereign
and having a larger scope of powers,
could declare almost any act treason—a
refusal to bear arms in her defence, to
return home when required to do so,
to bring into the common treasury any
proportion, of the property required of
each citizen. We were both North
Carolianians. When she refused to ratify
the federal constitution we remained
North Carolianians, owed our allegiance
to the State, and were bound to obey
her orders. By her act of ratification,
afterwards, she made us citizens of the
United States. In consequence of her
act and in obedience to her order, we
both were bound to obey the constitu
tional laws and regulations of the United
States, and if either of us had been
guilty of resisting the law with an armed
force, we would have been guilty of trea
son, because we acted as individuals on
our own responsibilty and by our own
mere motion, and the laws of the United
States operated directly on individuals
and individuals only. But, on the con
trary, if North Carolina, acting in her
sovereign capacity, resumed her,delegate
powers for any cause and then ordered
us to take up arms in her defence, obedi
ence to her order might be construed
possibly as war upon the United States,
but we would not be guilty of treason as
individuals, because we would have had
no volition. Our act would be the act
of the State ; cud, if there was any
guilt, the State will beguilty of treason,
and that is' a manifest absurdity, as
there is no legal mode of punishing a
State. And have our institutions been
so miserably constructed as to place the
citizen in a position which forces him
to be guilty of the highest crime known
to the law, without any volition of his
own, when obedience to the order of one
government makes him guilty of trea
son to another ?
When Mississippi seceded I felt it to
be my duty to leave the service of the
United States, return home, and subject
myself to the orders of my State; for
the sacred cause of State rights and
State sovereignty, 'the doctrine of the
fathers, I was willing to stake my life,
my fortune and all my hopes. Mr. John
son thought it his duty when Tennessee
seceded to hold on to his place, to set at
nought the action of his State, which
had so often honored him, and to place
himself under the protection of the
United States. He took sides with
power; I took sides with weakness.
Out motives are known only to the liv
ing' God ; but I claim to have been
honest, self-sacrificing and patriotic in
the course I pursued, and I leave to pos
terity to decide whether power has been
given on earth to make wrong right.
The fortune of war cannot change a
principle, although it may revolutionize
a government.
I cannot but think this proclamation
was not intended for me, but it was to
furnish an excuse to deal harshly with
President Jefferson Davis, if arrested.—
A purer patriot, a more conscientious
Christian, and a more honorable gentle
man than he never lived in any age or
country. All he has done has been in
obedience to the behests of the sovereign
States composing the confederacy. He
leaves, if the power and cruelty of his
enemies make it necessary for him to
leave, with the proud consciousness of
having nobly done his whole duty—
More true joy Marcellus exiled feels,
Than Cinsa.r with a Senate at his heels.
The States were once considered sov
ereignties, and as such, challenged our
respect and obedience. Now, after a
war of four years of unexampled suffer
ing,distinguished by feats of gallantry,
that reflect the highest honor upon the
parties engaged, after the two parties
have been recognized by themselves
and by all the civilized world as bellig
erents, to conclude the war by simply
regarding the armies of the United
States as a huge posse cornitatw, and the
opposing armies as so many felons re
sisting arrest, is a most lame and impo
tent conclusion, which will shock the
civilization of the age, and render this
mighty war a tragical farce.
There was no need of offering twenty
five thousand dollars reward for my ar
rest. If I felt the least assurance of
being tried according to the recognized
principles of law, without a pre-judg
ment, without the arbitrariness of a
court acting under the instructions of
this " Bureau of Military Justice," and
without contumely, I would go in per
son and deliver myself up to the proper
judicial authorities. Until I have such
an assurance, I think I ought to keep
out of the way, which no doubt will
gratify my enemies,: With respect,
JACOB THOM YSUIsi.
—Some few years ago there was a
notary public in Washington, an old and
highly-respected gentleman, who had
held his office through all the political
twistings and turnings of our capital for
nearly twenty years. A young friend
was -in his office one day, and while
sitting by the table picked up a small,
old, leather covered book which, upon
being opened, proved to be "Thaddeus
of Warsaw." He casually remarked to
Mr. Smith, the notary:
"I see you have a copy of Thaddeus
of Warsaw here."
"Thaddeus of Warsaw!" was the
reply."" "What do you mean?"
"Why, this is a copy of It."
"ThaddeUs Of Warsaw!" exclaimed
the old gentlenian. He snatched the
book, gave one glanCeat it, and then
,
cried out, "For twenty years I have
been swearing
,people on that book,
thinking itwas a Bible! . All those oaths
ain't worth the paper they are written
on!"
That very day hp patronized the Bible,
Society. Agency, and got a finely bound
0o y, which could by IVY possibility
.1041cort, for a novel:
....:A=alkiliiikiiiNADNMlLlW l K9 6 :-.15=-.--_---
BrICES6.--ir --',.a- year--p_er .
naregtsit " MiitßeteealOne.rWr 1 1 : ? 4 ,''
ran%
i i ' , --;. :, ,i - I- ..J .,
°NAL PROPERTY ant ear , ••'''')
ftlikr,MiTATS. ,
ter.n - Anviertromro, - 7- - eanurarline - J o ,__.
. Ural,tusk' -cents, for each pgbpt!ilvAlt.-t 4 9r , 7 -
Ilion. toe
Piarrr-MIrmOnCES and other advaes-by . -
'I. One "Vianin;:l yearr.......« , •—•'• ' :•.* ''• 6D
Half eel_ tintn_,l-,Yelklr;”7----4;
' T= r ecutime,,i Te.r,rrni '' • ' n••••••!.! ' ''' , l , . , .., ,
. Ru
ne scri year nss Ceauss,9olAPlPlPrAessi 10
.one sear
, Business 4:36 7 .178,Ere . 1.1.nee Or ecrs, one ,• . - • ..,
.. —...----, 5 . .,:; :
LEns.".. elmcal& HoTarsr • •
Executors' notices-.
fultninietrators' noti_oes, .................
, Assignees' notices, - ........„.,,-- 2.00
. Auditors' not. e 150
.• ether "Norreel," ten lines, or less,' ~
three times,
A Startling Scene In Church
There were many thrilling scenes in
the New England churches during the
revolutionary war. The following one
occurred in Sharon, Connecticut, under
the ministry of Rev. Cotton Mather
Smith. It is found in kleadley's "Chap
lains of the Revolution:"
Mr. Smith one Sunday took for his
text a part of Isaiah xxi, 11, 12: "Watch
man, what of the night? The watch
man said : The morning cometh." The
question in the first part of this passage
had been the daily, almost hourly, in
quiry for nearly a month, of every one
of that congregation, and hence its ap
propriateness was keenly felt, but the
startling announcement, "The morn
ing cometh," took them by surprise,
and they could not at first compre
hend its significance, or how it
could be adapted to the preSent
gloomy prospect. Had he heard
any good news ? What happened that
he could say so confidently : " The
morning cometh ?" No; he had noth
ing new to tell them, only to proclaim
over again his unshaken confidence in
God's promises. He did not attempt to
conceal or lessen the calamities that
had befallen the country, nor deny that
a fearful crisis was at hand. He ac
knowledged that to human appearance
" clouds and darkness were round about
God's throne," but said that the eye of
faith could .pierce the gloom. The
throne was there, though wrapped in
impenetrable darkness. In all the dis
asters that had successively overwhelm
ed them, he traced the hand of God, and
declared that, to his mind, they clearly
indicated some striking interposition
of Nvine.Providence about to take place
in their behalf. " Man's extremity was
God's opportunity." Our extremity
had come, and now was the time for
him to make bare " His arm for the de-
liverance of the people."
Prophet-like, kindling with the vision
on which the eyes of his faith rested,
he boldly dropped the general subject
of God's faithfulness, and told his aston
ished hearers that he believed they were
on the point of hearing extraordinary
news of victory to our arms. He would
not wait for an indefinite future to prove
his faith to be well founded—he was
willing to bring it to the test or the pres
ent. They might judge whether he
was right or wrong, for, said he, " The
morning now cometh.' I see its beams
already gliding the mountain tops, and
you shall soon behold its brightness
bursting over the laud."
One cannot imagine the effect of such
language uttered by the minister of God
in such a time of doubt and suspense.
He ceased, and, as he closed the Bible
and exclaimed "Amen ! so let it be," a
silence, profound and death-like, rested
on the audience. Each one seemed to
feel as if an invisible presence was there,
and some weighty announcement was
'ust at hand.
Suddenly the deep hush was broken
by the distant clatter of a horse's hoof
along the road. The sharp and rapid
strokes told of swift riding and of ur
gent haste. They knew at once what
it meant. For days and weeks their
eyes had strained up the street that led
northward, to catch sight of the mes
senger of good or evil tidings that was
hourly expected. He had come at last,
and as nearer, clearer, rang the sound
of that wild gallop on the listening ear,
each looked in mute and earnest inquiry
into his neighbor's face. Right on
through the place, straight for the meet
ing-house, darted the swift rider, and
drawing rein at the door, leaped from
the saddle, and leaving his foam-cover
ed steed unattended, strode into the
main aisle. On the deep silence that
filled the building like a sensible pres
ence his armed heel rung like the blows
of a hammer. As he passed along a
sudden paleness spread over the crowd
of faces turned with a painful eagerness
toward him. But looking neither to
the right, nor the left, the dread mes
senger passed on, and, mounting the
pulpit stairs, handed the pastor a letter.
Notwithstanding, the good man's
faith his hand trembled, and an ashy
hue overspread his face as he reached
out to receive it. " Burgoyne has sur
rendered," were the first words that met
his eye. He staggered under them as
under a blow. The next moment a
radiance like thatof the morning broke
over his countenance, and he burst into
tears. Rising to read the incredible
tidings, such a tide of emotion flooded
his heart - that he could scarcely utter
them aloud. The audience sat for a
moment overwhelmed and stupitied,
then, as their pastor folded his hands
And turned his eyes toward heaven in a
thankful prayer, impelled by a simul
taneous movement they fell like one
man on the knees and wept aloud. Sobs,
sighs, and fervently uttered " Amens"
were heard on every side, attesting the
depth of their gratitude and the ecstasy
of their joy. " The morning" had come,
bright and glorious, and its radiance
filled all the heavens.
Deaths of EnglistilElng,s and Queens.
William the Conqueror died from
enormous fat, from drink, and from the
violence of his passions.
William Rufus died the death of the
poor stags that he had hunted.
Henry the First died of gluttony..
Henry the Second died of a broken
heart occasioned by the bad conduct of
his children.
Richard eclair de Lion died like the
animal from which his heart was named
by an arrow from an archer.
John died, nobody knows how, but it
is said of chagrin, which we suppose is
another term for a dose of hellebore.
Henry the Third is said to have died
a natural death.
Edward the First is likewise said to
have died of a " natural sickness," a
sickness which it would puzzle all the
college of physicians to denominate.
Edward the Second was most bar
barously and indecently murdered by
ruffians employed by Ids own mother
and'her paramour.
Edward the Third died of dotage, and
Richard the Second of starvation, the
very reverse of George the Fourth.
Henry the Fourth is said to 'have
died '"of fits caused by uneasiness/' and
uneasiness in palaces in those times
was a very common complaint.
Henry the Fifth is said to have died
" of "[painful affliction, prematurely !"
This is a courtly phrase for getting rid
of a king.
Henry the Sixth died in prison, by
means known then only to his jailor,
and known now only to Heaven.
Edward the Fifth was strangled in
the tower by his uncle, Richard the
third.
Richard the Third was killed in bat
tle.
Henry the Seventh wasted away as a
miser ought to, and Henry the Eighth
died of carbuncles; fat and fury, while
Edward the Sixth died of a decline.
Queen Mary is said to have died of "a
broken heart," whereas she died of a
surfeit, from eating too much of black
puddings.
Old Queen Bess is said to have died of
melancholy, from having sacrificed
Essex to his enemies—her private char
acter not being above suspicion.
James 'the first died of drinking, and
of the effects of a nameless vice.
Charles the First died arighteous death
on the'scaffold, and Charles the Second
died suddenly, it is said of apoplexy.
Williwn the Third died from con
sumptive habits of body, and from, the
stumbling of his horse.
Queen Anne died from her attachment
to strong water," or, in other words,
from drunkenness, which the physicians
politely called dropsy.
George the First died of drunken
ness, which his physicians a.s politely
called an apoplectic fit: ", I
George the Sedond died of a - rupture
of the heart, which, the periodicals of
that day termed a, visitation of God.
It is the only instance in which 'God
ever touched his heart. -
George the Third died as he.hadJived
--a madman.:: Throughout life, was
at least a consistent monarch...
• George. the Fourth, 'died of gluttony
and drunkeimeas. •
Wifilam the-Fourth died amidst the
sympathi6 of his subjects.--The