<5 Ik gattfJUJttr fJuWttomer, PUBIiISHXD EVERY WEDNESDAY BT 11. G. SMITH 4 CO A. J. Stein man. 11. G. Surra. TERMS— Two Dollars por ananm, payable In all cases In advance. Tub Lancasteb Daily ®IntkIjLIGENGIeb Is Dabllßhed evory evening, Sunday excepted, at 5 per Annum lu advance. )FFldE —Southwest corner or Cksts* UABB. For the Intelligencer. “ LAGER BltlT. A I’AUODY ON “ TIIE RAV£N Once, upon an evening dreary, As 1 wandered, sad aud weary, Tlirougb the Btrcets, In search of *omo:hluj To amuse my eye or q*t— Suddenly I heard a lupp'rg, As of some uuo rudely rapping— Happing that so strangely Handed That,my bosom (limited wlih fear— Every nerve was thi llied within mo, And my bud.\ shook with f-.ur. Hilout stood I gozlng—wondering Whoncocould couio ihtHu ihMiilng.tliuudcrlug Thumping raps, Him raps 01 Nplrim Loosened from Mj nedher i-pheic Till, by charm •, my eyon upraising Toagdrt-Jol dimly blazing Through a cuiloua canvas cnrluln, Curtaining a window ueur, I beheld m let'em m> Kile This strung'! 1> send : “ L.witcii llii r." Thereupon my hc-ui t grow siro igor— Heslluliug l hen no l<mg > .*r, Through inoduorl mni'ghlway ruined Htillmg eucli uj r.slng P in And 1 houru the dut si. gabble Uttered since t he days ui Buhel : ilut the only phrase i.r uutmeu Mounding eh arly on my ear Was the cju uut and curious legend 4 On the e >n v, *• I,agini l’.li-.'it." Onabonch my.-tlf I seated, Hut before I imi < oiui-lelt d Half my stuvey of the moth v Mingled ihr-.ng asveMiib.cd heie, Suddenly there iUoc<l i cion; me A Teuton uml lie i-o e me On u iray a sailed pr. tz •!, Hhtip.-d In form and fash'ou 'i ■< ( r Flared ahrlid in l gg isi.cfun* m<> Merely suy ing •• L<w;:ck IMbu." Not the least obcl'-aii'-e made he .Nut H Slug Il.OoU'ltl hi’l(l lII'- Quickly os he had approacucd u <• Quickly did he dnupp:*ar Midst the muz h oi me many Moil assembled there— not a 1 Uno (jf whom Uppeareil to nul'n'.i Thai myntdi was silting no Wondering wny, unasked, tho Teuton Uro.iglil rue luus the •' h.\(i .-:k Hi i.k, * Hunt n:tl I k< m In.'/.: iu livery l>ul)!ilo t iu*L %. .in i Cream-lilic, !■> Hie lonmir -J mi id .1 UI I lie I.< ji’>r—ll m.ei clm - Long I looked with i-. Imuoitioj, Ami in. length, wi;h *i• itlulioit, To my lip-. Lhe gl-isi hi .1, And I Nipped Hi • nui-Prow,: . .. Hipped at llr.it wil l) l«-»ir nn.i riu.t:nii- , Ttieu gulped down Hie *• Ij.hjicu IHi: Through my veins i:m rircnliiUui Of the bloo 1, ut, each j->nls:ilhm Of my b<;iU:ng heart, was Uurrie l tiwllter on Uh wild career ; And my Houses all Huemed qule ; r Ah I drank tho magifi liquor— Thoughts of line poetic laucy Killed my mind wit h genial ch-.-er, As again the gdint. Tent *n Killed my glass w.lli “ I.au*.k L'if:: Boon th" second glass I mi allow, d And ft third as quickly f.cluued— And {mother—and aim hei Till my head h.gui lo ve -r; Thou my mannei grow m< re g-uelouv LeisH reserved, and more i'/qiia;:iou«— Aud my thoughts in uv phlm-upoii' More Ideal—brll 1 ml—cleat Hugely 1 discoursed c>( I turn Boienco, art aid " L.\<; *ii Hi kk." Boon Kurrounditig scenes forsook in Homnolency o.a i c nolc me in u stupor s< pm me Kuarrd la !• airy sphere 1 And behold a vivid visu-u Autotype of blest K ysl m Whero were mingled Mtli .vd M us Wisdom V/il, Mid .V m lie ,r ! ller.uty, Vouih, and noble Krlondshlp, Love and urncu hucb. Palaces unique and ahy, Fit for home ol Fay or Fairy, Reared Ihclr domes and timed coluinus Upward through the ether clear— ■ Save whero *• rare ami rosotilo shadows Overspread the * mi-rahl meadowH— Overspread the g oves and grottos And tlio giinhiug fmiiitains near— And the Temple of <1 inibiiint“, Priest and Kiug <>f “ Laukr Bier.' Bright-eyed nymphs, with golden tresses, Lnvlulieil on m-* I nul raxesn s Whirled mo In d.rltcio m whli/.'-b Wnisperod warm worila in my ear— LlspsJ of Love and L ivo’s emotion Lovo’s delights, a-n| Love's devuliou l.ovo, that oveillowi ihe bus.,m Ah the loam of L-v.-er It.er- Overtl >ws tho ei.v .* t.il goblet Crow nel \> it ii fp riutng “ Laiier Bier. Bliso is brief, and sorrow eetlain Tourfully I draw the curtain O’er Lenora'a ei uel led ui e tirauug h islily on my : i For my heavy biao is e My rej eiyriim bt :r i.. g Ab xny dear L- i. i a ie -.ures » Hi Hi • II Li' !':• Hilt Aml In 11 in :oni s il' m unci s prualio uc.aHui.il * L.m ;eu Hi eh. Ah ! s l l<' lelh me—from thu gutter J wi'.a drugged !-atnl on n ehuuer Cnirm i hi,nit* by lour policemen! Camt'il I, ire’n.i'J gibe ami jeer ! Tells me bow hci p h.l whs buninled AS 1 fumbled, muiisbl- sjrillilii.e.l, HlUinbled. and at ho gill w.is tumbled i\> > he ll tor \vi:li m >eUn.g sneer. Where all night with mores somuous I luy drnult wlih "Luikk Uikr' And Leu orantlll la sluing— Kver prukeut—never Iholng— Kver tftUnllng and bn me tiling My i-ad lie.u t wil h lieurUesK sue r And In petulant splcnei ch Urges pibgch hi d cm. in> Urges uau.seou-’ diuieiics To dlHpd the i.fto.-r Micr Ull'ern oils, and | 1 1 Is, ui ui powdc i s To dispel 1 he “ l. vur.it lb kk.’ Bliss Is brief, and .vi row e i lain ! Come, Lononi, clo-e the < wrtalu—- Bar tho door amt shut . ho shutters, Lest the world your word-; may hear Let me hope that by u.e m-.rrow, Penitential, I may borrow, From your Kinlies .sureeus-e of ,-oriow pintles of love without u tear— Pardon Lethe—and Nepenthe From ihe paugs of •• Laokk Ukkii. sltefcUanmt;s. CnugiiL In Her own Trap. Ellen Lamprey and Clara Edgerton were walking slowly along a vine em-. bowered path in Newport.’ The latter was moody and thoughtful, while the former was watchful of all that trans pired about her. By and by a genlle man entered the path not far iu ad vance, and approached them. Klleu saw bun ; but Clara did not. “Here, —let us step into this arbor. U! wlmt beautiful dowers. See!” Aud thus speaking Ellen Lamprey rather drugged than hd her companion iuto the arbor. The gent L-man passed, ami there was a cloud upon his brow. iSoim-tliiug hail evideutly wrought unpleasantly upon his feelings. K.len marked the fuel, aud au exuhaut exjjrcssi'jii lEsin-d up into her fare. She had accomplished her object. The gentleman was Wallace Parker, a young rnnu of good family, whose father had reeeutly died intestate. The elder Parker had once beeu wealthy ; but a financial crash had swept away, his fortune, atid hurried himself to the grave. So Wallace had entered upon the practice of the Law, aud was strug gling hard to earn name and fame in his own right. Weary ami faiut from hard study he had come down to New port to rest aud recuperate; but lie could uot stay long, for he ha. I not the means. In happier days, when he had been prospective heir to half a million, tie had often met (Tara Edgerton, and had learned to love her, though no words of love had ever beeu spoken. In fact, they had been almost tooyouug then to seriously veuture upon such a topic But they were older now. Wallace was four-aud twenty, and Clara only live years younger. And now they had met again—he under the cloud of misfor tune, while she held in her own right a fortune greater than that which his father had loßt. Is it a wonder that a hundred men, young and old, ‘paid especial court to Clara Edgerton? Ami is it a wonder that a man like Wallace Parker, should have been backward iu® claiming her especial notice? Ellen Lamprey had no heart to love, but she fancied Wallace Parker; she had penetration enough to see that he was a better man than were most of those to whom the ladiesof fashion paid court; and, furthermore, she saw the possibilities lie would surmount, aud could look forward to the bright career that he was opening before him. .She was a crafty girl, and calculating. She could not hope to eulrap a wealthy lover who was young aud handsome ; so she meant to eutrap Wallace Parker, if she could. She kuew that there had been an intimacy between him aud Clara iu the other times, and she could very plainly see that their hearts yearned toward each other still, however much the young lawyer himself may have been in the dark. Blie had a game to play. She knew very well that Wallace had come, out into the garden in the hope of meeting Clara. She had not only prevented the meeting, but she had made It appear to the gentiemau that the lady had purposely avoided him. "I declare!—there goes Wallace Parker,—and he didii’teven giyeusthe honor of a salute!" cried Ellen, after the young man hud pulsed. Clara started, and looked up, and presently said, — "He has no heart for anything but hia profession." "And ho will need to slick to his pro fession njlorig time before he can resume hia old stand in society," suggested VMtxu " It was all Clara an* VOLUME 70 Rwered; and she was again thoughtful. That evening Ellen Lamprey met Wollaie Parker upon the verandah, and he offered her hia arm. He could do no leas, seeing that she had sought his Ellen adroitly led the conversation until It touched upon Clara Edgerton. “By the way, Mr. Parker, I had al ways thought that you and Miss Edger ton were good friends.” “ I trust wo are friends still,” return ed the gentleman, in a low, hopeful tone. “I bad thought so,” resumed the plotter, “until she avoided you to-day, in the garden. And I should not have thought so much of that if she bad not, when we wero alone, spoken— But I had better keep my own counsel.” Walter Parker was humaD, aud he wished to know what Clara Edgerton had said of him. At length, with much apparent reluctance, Ellen told him, — “ She said you had no heart.” “What! Bid Clara Edgerton say that ?” “ Yes. Aud she said you would have to stick to your profession a long time before you could regain the position you had lost in society.” “O ! I had not thought that of her ! But what else could J expect? Bali! they are a cold aud heartless set!” “ You do not mean that Miss Edger ton is coltl and heartier ?” "She is under the inlUffiiioe. She must be, or she would not have spoilt » those words.” “Well, well,” said Ellen, with alight laugh, “she is very soon to be under a new influence. . She goes from here to lie married to Mr. Hapgood.” “To Giles Hapgood ?” “Yes—the banker.” “But he is old enough lo bo her father !” “Aud worth u million !” added Ellen significantly. And new triumph was in the sparkle of her eye wiien she saw Wallace Purker’s lip curl with derision, and saw scorn andconlempt in his every feature. During the forenoon of thafoliowing day Ellen Lamprey observ%L Clara Edgerton and Giles Hapgood, ofl&iu one of the foot paths, walkiug very cosily, arm-in-arm, and apparently engaged in very earnest She hunted up Wallace Parker, aud brought him ou-t Into the balcony that ho might see it. He did see it, and his look plainly showed that he was unhappy; aud Ellen Ijamprey fancied that lie looked to her for sympathy—that his heart was warm ing toward her as it shrank away from love of Clara. She determined lo 10-e no time. During the afternoon of that same day Ellen drew Clara out into the gar den, aud after a light ruu of byplay she carefully introduced thesubject of Wal lace Parker. “ He will not remain here much long er,” she said : “aud for one I am glad ol it. I cau endure almost anything better than treachery.” “ Treachery!— and on the part of Wallace Parker?” “ Yes.” “What do you mean, Ellen?” “Since it lias come to this, Clara, I will speak plainly. I accepted Mr. Parker's proffered arm upon the veran dah last evening. We spoke of you. I had supposed that you were on the most friendly terms; but, judge of my sur prise, when lie announced to me, in direct and unqualified terms, that you were cold anti heartless!” “Did Wallace Parker say that?”— The voice was startled and quiveriug. “ Yes,—and I expostulated. But he persisted. He said you were throwing yourself away under the very worst of infl tieuces.” “O, Ellen, I cannot believe that Mr. Parker spoke soberly.” A brilliant idea struck the plotter. She would make a hold move. “ My dear Clara,’* slio »uid, “in order that you may know exactly how he can speak of you, suppose you iiear him for yourself? If you will take your seat in this arbor this evening, I will lead Wallace Parker this way, and he shall speak of you as he pleases in your hear ing.” At first Clara Edgerton refused to lis ten to the proposition ; but after a time she surrendered.' She did really wish to know if Wallace Parker disliked her. The blow would bea eruelone ; butshe hud better know ths truth, even at the worst. So Bhe finally said that she would be in thearbor at nine o’clock. Ellen Lamprey had no doubt of her success. She had so far won upon Parker, that he was ready at any time to wait upon her at her bidding, aud she felt sure, if she could lead him to the garden, that she could draw from him hitter words against Clara. But one of her most potent weapons was to be wrench ed from her without her knowledge. That evening as Wallace Parker sauntered upou the driveway after tea, lie met tides Hapgood, and the banker was muttering aud cursing to himself. “Eh! Hapgood' What on earth is the matter? Stooks-down ? " “Down Hat!" returned Hapgood, rallying. “ Have you lost heavily ? " "I have lost heavily, aud for all time.” “ I am sorry." Presently the banker looked up with a grim smile. “ It isn'tmoney, Parker. O, no,—not quite so bad as that. I fancied, this afternoon, that I had lost my heart; but I guess I shall fmd it again. You can keep a secret ? " “The secret of a friend is with me a sacred trust." “Then, my boy, I’ll tell you frank ly,—Clara Edgerton has refused my hand! " “ Kefused you ? " ; “ Aye,—and that isn't the worst of it. When 1 asked lierwhyshehad allowed me to husk iu the sunlight of her smiles, she fell to weeping, ami begged of me to forgive her. She suid she had sought it at the bauds of a father! Egad! Lhiuk of it! What a cut, eh ?" “Butshe wu3 honest.” “ So she was, my boy. She had clung to me—taking shelter under my gray hairs—so that she.mightescape the per aecutiou of attention from the hundred and-one fulsome flatterers that hovered around her. This afternoon I could have cursed her; hut now I can only curse my own stupidity, while I have come really to honor aud respect the pure hearted girl who was willing to place so much confidence in Giles llap good. ’’ The approach of another party inter rupted the conversation, and Wallace shortly afterward returned to the house, where Ellen Lamprey met him upon the piazza. He would have avoided her, but she took his arm, and claimed him as her prisoner ; aud by aud by she led him to the gardeu. Little dreamed she, as she prepared for theattuck, what he had heard within the hour. When they had entered upon the flower-flanked avenue Ellen spoke of Clara Edgerton. She spoke at first sympathiziugly aud lovingly,—then pityiugly,—aud theu she gradually verged upon the condemnatory. The arbor was now not far distant, and she must make the liual stroke. This she did by speaking of Clara’s ap proaching marriage with Mr. Hapgood, at the same time adroitly working in a repetition of the story she had before told of the ladys harsh judgment of himself. The arbor was reached, and Eileu stopped fer her companion’s reply. {She felt sure it would be a bitter one. Wallace Parker took her hand, aud looked down into her face. He bad heard her words ; but they had not so much place in his mind as had other words which he had thatevening heard from the lips of Giles Hapgoed. "Mias Lamprey," hesald, slowly,aud almost sternly, "you aud I hud best come to an understanding at once. I am willing to believe that you are mis taken. At all events, I will never be lieve that Miss Edgerton could willingly or iutentionally speak ill of me until I can hear and judge for myself. When you first told me what she had—" “O ! Mr. Parker! In mercy’s name !" But Mr. Parker did not heed the in terruption. "What Clara had said of me, I was grieved; but I am sure you must have misunderstood her.” Ellen Lamprey trembled like an as pen, and could not speak. Her compan ion continued: " Never, whilel can help it, the bright vision of Clara Edgerton, as a pure and blessed, spirit of light, be wrested from me. As God is ray judge I believe her to be incapable of deceit! But, if she has faults, I do no wish to know them* I took her image into my soul years ago, and I wish to hold it : there, enshrined in purity. Had not , dire misfortune come upon me I would dare to go to her, and ask her if she de spised me; but now—now —” “ She can speak without the asking!” sounded a voice from the arch of the arbor. “0! Wallace—how blind you have been I —how blind 1 And all these years I have had no heart, no love, that wa3 not yours!” And Clara Edgerton, advancing from the sheltering bower, gave her hand to Wallace Parker, and rested her head upon hla bosom ; while Ellen Lamprey, almost bereft of sense, shrank away to the house, her s:ep3 tottering and un certain, like uuto the steps of one who is drunk with much wine. On the very next morning, without her breakfast, Ellen Lamprey left New port. She could not bear to witness the happiness of tho pair she had sought to put for ever asunder, nor did she care to remain after the story of the ridicu lous manner in which she had got caught In her own trap should have leaked out. In the joyous event which legitimate ly grow out from all this Giles Hapgood did himself infinite credit aud honor. He demanded and received the privi lege of acting as groomsman at the wedding.—A'. V. Ledger. Treachery Seif.Punished. I!V jriifSK (.'LAI!K “ There have beeu a good many bur glaries of late, Thomas,” said Mr. Thornton, as he was about leaving the bauk for the day, “and I have beeu thinking it might be well if you re maiued here of nights for the preseut— especially us one of the entrance keys Is missing, and may have gotten into wrong bauds.” “I have been thinking that same myself, sir,” Thomasauswered. “ I can lie on the lounge there, you see, in the back office, quite comfortable like.” “ Aud sleep through a dozen safe ex plosions, mostJike.y, and never loj-l- a snore.” “Never fear, sir; ihe stirring of a mouse wakes me.” “ Well, take this revolver, then ; I suppose you know how to use it?” Thomas hoped ho did ; Imped he hadn’t been four years iu the array without learning Dial much. And so v . Thomas was left ou guard, aud the rich banker, who had outstay ed all his clerks this evening, took his departure. Mr, Thornton was a widower, having an only son, whom he had set his heart ou marrying to a ward of his, a young heiress, whoso fortune hail lost nothing under his management, the fruits of which lie would have been loth to see reaped by a stranger. But Mary Burton had a will, as well as a heart of her own, and naturally felt that the former was entitled to some share in the disposal of the latter. She esteemed Edward Thornton, but she both loved and esteemed Lawrence Ridgeley, aud that made a mighty dif ference. As for the young men, they were both her adorers, though Edward knew bis suit was hopeless, and had long ceased to press it. There was even a warm friendship between himself aud his rival. They had been classmates and companions iu the days when Law rence KitJgeley’s father was a prosperous merchant, whose son was little likely ever to bo under the necessity of earn ing his bread, as he was now doing, iu the position of a hard-worked clerk in the banking house of Abel Thornton. That gentleman, we have said, had set his heart ou the marriageof hisson to his ward, and lie was not slow in discovering that Lawrence Kidgety wus a serious impediment to his plans—an impediment which he would have gladly removed without being over scrupulous as to the means, for lie was a hard and cruel mau to those whom he conceived to stand iu his way. Before Lawrence Ridgely left the boulc on the evening in question, he received directions from Mr. Thornton to meet the latter in his library, after tea, to assist in the preparation of some foreign correspondence to go out by next days steamer. The young clerk was on hand at the appointed time. He wrote, at his em ployer’s dictation, till a late hour, when it became necessary to the further pro gress of their work to consult some papers, which Mr. Thornton remem bered he had left on the desk iu his pri vate room at the bank. As there was no getting on without the absent papers, Ridgeley offered to go,aud bring them. Mr. Thornton ap peared pleased with his promptness, andapologized with unusual civility for accepting the offer. Lawrence at once set out on hia er rand. He was waiting at a crossing for the next when Edward Thornton accosted him : “Which way so late?” “I am going to the bank,” said Law rence, ‘for a package of papers which your father wishes to consult to-night.” “Ah ! that reminds me— I will save you the trip with your permission. I forgot a parcel there this afternoon which I will need in the morning; so, if you will tell me whero the papers are to be found, I will do your errand aud mine at the same time.” “But I could bringyourparcel.” “ You would never be able to find it, or to know it if you did ; I’m tho worst possible hand at descriptions and direc tions. So give me the door-key, ami tell me whore the papers are.” “They are on your father’s desk,” said Lawrence, handing him the key; and just then a car was passing, which Edward hailed and entered. Nearly an hour would be required to go to the bank and return, and Law rence iufmitly preferred a stroll in the bright moonlight to passing the time in Mr. Thornton’s sombre company. A short walk brought him to one of those beautiful squares which here and there, like oases m a desert, relieve the moutony of this peopled wilderness.— The walks were now deserted, aud everything was still save the mur mur ofa fountain, whosedancing spray, as it sparkled in the shimering light, developed a series of tints, varied as the hues of hope aud chaugeless only in their beauty. All lovers are poetic. No wonder, then, that Lawrence llidgeley, under the enchantment of such a scene, sat aud dreamed away an hour before lie had thought it well began. But the striking of a clock recalled him from his revery, and lie knew it was time to re turn to his employer, who, he feared, had already baeu kept waiting. Mr. Thornton met him with a lower ing and sinister look, in which a tinge of disappointment was visible. “ Well, have you brought the papers? You have taken your time, at least.” “I have not been at the bank, sir; Edward—” Mr. Thornton’s face was like marble. “Edward! what of Edward?" he exclaimed, frantic with excitement. Lawrence briefly explained how it had happened that Edward had gone to the bank in his stead. Simple as was the recital, theiistener seemed paralyzed at it. He clutched at the nearest object for support. Then recovering himself with a desperate ef fort, he rushed toward the door; but be fore reaching it bis steps were arrested by a violent ringing of the bell. “Great God!" he cried, “it is too late!" And he sank shivering into a seat, and covered his face with his hands. Lawrence opened the door, and a stranger presented himself. “Can I see Mr. Thornton?” he in quired. Lawrence conducted him to his em ployer’s presence. “I bring you sad news Mr. Thorn ton." But the messengermighthavespared himself the trouble of telling it. None knew better than Abel Thornton that the snare which he had spread for an other’s life had proved destructive to that of his child. He had intended that Lawrencs Bidgcley, entering the bank at an unseasonable hour, without know ing any one was on watch, and conse quently taking no care to announce himself, should be fired on and slain as a burglar. Everything had worked as he had planned, but the victim was his own son ! Insanity is a boon when it brings for getfulness of ilia too grievous to be borne; but not such is the insanity which now consigns Abel Thornton to a maniac’s cell. Ghastly visions of his crime are ever present to haunt his walking, and still more horribly to torment hia sleep - ing hours. lion. Joba S. Carlile, late United Stales Senator, who was a candidate for tho Sen ate of West Virginia from Harrison county, was deteated by John J. Davis, Esq., demo crat. LANCASTER PA. WEDNESDAY MORNING NOVEMBER 10 1869 A Story of Miners’ Justice. I do not think that we ever knew bis real name. Our ignorance of itcertain ly never gave us any social inconve Dienee, for at Sandy Bar, in IS-S 4, most men were christened anew. Some times these appellatives wero derived from some distinctiveness of dress, as i_i the case of “Dungaree Jack,” or from some peculiarity of habit, as shown in “ Saleratus Bill,” so called from an undue, proportion of that chtmical iu his daily bread ; or for some infelicitous slip, as exhibited in “The Iron Pirate,” a mild, inoffensive man who earned that baleful title by hia unfortunate mispronunciation of the term “iron pyrites ” Perhaps this may have beeu the beginning of a rude heraldry ; but I am constraiued lo think that ic was because a real man’s name, iu that day, rested solely upou his own unsupported statement. “ Call yourself Clillord, do you, ?” said Boston, addressing a timid new comer with infinite scorn ; “ Hell is full of such Cliffords!” Hetheu iu troduced the unfortunate mau, whose name happened to be really Clifford, as “ Jaybird Charley”—an unhallowed in spiration of the moment, that clung lo him ever after. But to return to Tennessee's Partner, whom he never knew by auy other lhau this relative title. That he had ever existed as a separate aud distinct indi vidual we only learned later, it seems that in ISo 3 he left Poker Fiat logo to San Francisco, ostensibly to procure a wife. He never got any farther than Stockton. At that place ho was at tracted by a young person who waited upon tho table at the hotel where he took his meals. One morning he said something to her which caused her to smile not unkiudly, to somewhat co quettishly break a plate ot‘ toast over nis upturned, serious, simple face, aud to retreat to tno kitchen. He followed her, aud emerged a few moments later, cuvered with more toast aud victory.— That dify a week they were manjid by a Justice of the Peace and rd/unul to Poker Flat. I am* aware that some- thing more might be made of this epi sode, but I prefer to tell it as it was cur rent at Sandy Bar—in the gulches aud bar-rooms—where all sentiment was modified by a strong sense of humor. Of their married felicity but little is known, perhaps for the reason that Tennessee, theu living with hia partner, one day took occasion to say something to tho bride on Lis own account, at which.it is said, she smiled not uukind ly, aud chastely retreated—this time as far as Marysville, where Teunessee followed her aud where they went to housekeeping without the aid of a Jus tice of the Peace. Tennessee’s Partner took the loss of his wife simply and seriously, as was his fashiou. But, to everybody’s surprise, wheu Tennessee one day returned from Marysville, with outhis partner’s wife - she having smil ed aud retreated with somebody else — Tennessee’s Partner was the first mau to shake his hand and greet him with affection. The boys, who had gathered iu the cauon to see the shooting, were naturally indignant. Their indigna tion might have found veut in sarcasm but for a certain look iu Tennessee’s Partner’s eye that indicated a lack of humorous appreciation. Iu fact he was a grave mau, with a steady application to practical detail which was unpleas ant iu a difficulty. Meanwhile a popular feeling against Tennessee had grown upon the Bar.— He was known to be a gambler—he was suspected to be a thief. Iu these suspicions Tennessee’s Partner was equally compromised ; bis continued intimacy with Tennessee after the af fair above quoted could only be account ed for on tne hypothesis of a co-part nership of crime. At last Tennessee’s guilt became llagrant. One day he over took a stranger oil his way to Bed Dog. The stranger afterward related that Teunessee beguiled the time with in teresting aueedote and reminiscence, but illogically coucluded the interview iu the following words: —“And now, young man, I’ii trouble you for your ! knife, your pistols, and your money,— i You see your weppiugs might get you iuto trouble iu Red Dog, aud your money’s a temptation to the evilly dis posed. I think you said your address was San Fraucisco. I shall endeavor to call.” It may be stated here that Teunessee had a line flow of humor, which no business pre occupation could w holly subdue. This exploit was his last. Red Dog and Sandy Bar made commou cause against the highwayman. Tennessee was hunted iu very much the same fashion as his prototype—the grizzly. As the toils closed around him, he made a desperate dash through the Bar, emptying his revolver at the crowd be fore the Arcade Saloon, aud so on up Grizzly Canon ; but at its farther extre mity lie was stopped by a small mau, on a gray horse. The men looked at each other a moment in silence Botli were fearless; both self-possessed aud independent; and both typesof a civil ization that in the seventeenth century would have been called heroic, but in the nineteenth, simply “reckless.”— “ What have you got there?—l call,” said Teunessee, quietly. “ Two bowers and an ace,” said the stranger,as quiet ly, showing two revolvers aud a bowie knife. “ That takes me,” returned Tennessee; and, with this gamblers’ epigram, he tf.r.w away his useless pistol, and rode back with his captor. It was a warm night. The c )ol breeze which usually sprung up with the going down of the sun behind the chapparal crested mountain was that evening withheld from Saudy Bar. The little canon was stiffing with heated, resin OU3 odors, aud the decaying drift-wood outlie Bar sent forth faint, sickening exhalations. The feverishness of day, and its fierce passions, still filled the camp. Lights moved restlessly along the bank of the river, striking no an swering reflection from its tawny cur rent. Against the blackness of the piues the windows of the old loft above the express office stood out staringly bright; and through their curtainless panes the loungers below could see the forms of tho.-:e who were eyen then de ciding the fate of Tennessee. And above all this, elehed on the dark firmament, ! rose the .Sierra, remote and passionless, | crowned with remoter, passionlessstars. The trial of Tennessee was conducted as fairly as was consistent with a judge and jury who felt themselves to some extent objiged to justify, in their ver dict, the previous irregularities of arrest and indictment. The law of Sandy Bar was implacable, but not vengeful. The excitement and personal feeling of the chaso were over; with Tennessee safe in their hands, they were ready to listen patiently to any defence, which they were already satisfied was insufficient. There being no* doubt in their own minds, they were willing to give the prisoner the benefit of any that might exist. Secure in the hypothesis that he ought to be hanged, on general princi ples, they indulged him with more lati tude of defence than his reckless hardi hood seemed to ask. The judge appear ed to be more anxious than the prisoner, who, otherwise unconcerned, evidently took a grim pleasure in the responsibil ity he had created. “ I don’t take any hand iu this yer game,” had been his invariable, but good-humored reply to all questions. The judge—who was also his captor—fora moment vaguely regretted that he had not shot him “ on sight" that morniug, butpresently dis missed this humau weakness as un worthy of the judicial mind. Never theless, when there was a .tap at the door, and it was said Tennessee’s ner was there on behalf of the prisoner, he was admitted at once without ques tion. Perhaps the younger members of the j ury, to whom the proceedings were becoming irksomely thoughful, hailed him as a relief. For he was not, certainly, an impos ing figure. Short and stout, with a square face, sunburned into a preterna tural redness, clad in a loose duck “jumper" and trousere streaked and splashed with red soil, his aspect under any circumstances - 70uld have been quaint, and was now even ridiculous. As he stooped to deposit at his feet a heavy carpet bag he was carrying, it be came obvious, from partially developed legends the mater ial with trousers were patch ed had been originally intended for aless ambitious covering. Yet be advanced with great gravity, and, after having shaken the hand of each persoa in the room with labored cordiality, he wiped his serious, perplexed face on a red bandanna handkerchief, a shade lighter than his complexion, laid his powerful hand upon the table to steady himself, and thus addressed the judge: “Iwaspassin’ by," he began, by way of apology, " and I thought I’d just step in and see how things were gettin’ on with Tennessee thar—ray pardner. It’s i a hot night. I-disremember any *uch I weather before on the Bar.” He paused a moment, but nobody volunteering any other meteorological 1 recollection, he again had recourse to l his pocket-handkerchief, and for some moments mopped hia face diligently. “ Have you ahy thing to say in behalf of the prisoner?”sald the judge, finally. ! “That’s it,” saldTennessee’sPartner, : in a tone of relief. “I come yar as Ten j nessee’s pard ner—knowing him nigh on i four yeaia, off’ aDd on, wet and dry, in j luck aud out o' luck. His ways ain’t I allers my ways but tharaln'tany p’ints I iu ibatyouug man—tbarain’t any live- I iiuess as he’s been up to—as I don’t know. And you stz tome, sezyou— coufideutial-like, and between mau and 1 mau stz you, *Do you know anything i in his behalf? ’ and I stz to you, stz I— i confidential-like, as between man and : man—wliat should a man know of his ,pardner?” i “ Is this all you have to say ?” asked I the judge, impatiently, feeling, perhaps, that a dangerous sympathy of humor 1 was beginning to humanize the court. “ Thel’s so,” coutinued Tennessee’s Partner. “It aiu’t for me to say any thing ugiu’ him. And now what’s the case? Here's Teunessee wants money, wants it bad, and doesn’t like to ask it of his old pardner. Well, what does Tennessse do? He lays for a stranger, and ho fetches thatstranger. And you lays for him, aud you fetches him ; and the honors is easy. And I put it to you —bein’ a far-minded—an—and to you gentlemen, all, as far-minded men, ef this :sn’t so?” “ Prisoner,” said the judge, interrupt ing, “ have you any questions to ask this man ?” “No! no!” continued Tennessee Partner, hastily ; “ I play this yer hand alone. To come down to the bed-rock, it’s just this: Tennessee, thar, has played it pretty rough and expensive likeou a stranger, and on this yer camp. And now, what’s thefair thing? Borne would say more ; some would Bay less. Here's seventeen hundred dollars in coarse gold aud a watch —it’s about all my pile—and call It square!” And be fore a hand could be raised to prevent him, lie had emptied the contents of the carpetbag unon the table. For a moment his life was in jeop ardy. One or two men sprung to their feet, several hands groped for hidden weapons, and a suggestion to “throw him from the window” was only over ridden by a gesture from the judge. Teunessee laughed. And apparently oblivious of the excitement, Tennessee’s Partner improved the opportunity lo mop his face again with his handker chief. When order was restored, and the mau was made to understand, by the use of forcible figures and rhetoric, that Tennessee’s offence could not be con doned by money, his face took a more serious and sanguinary hue, and those who were nearest to him noticed that his rough baud trembled slightly on the table. He hesitated a moment as he slowly returned the gold to the car pet bag, as if he had not yet entirely caught the elevated seuae of justice which swayed the tribunal, aud " 13 perplexed with the belief that he :...J uot offered enough. Then he tinned to the Judge, and Baying, “This yer is a lone hand, played alone, and without my pardner,” he bowed to the jury aud was about to withdraw, when the Judge called him back. “If you have any thing to say to Tennessee you had bet ter say it now.” For the first that eve ning the eyes of the prisoner aud his strange advocate met. Tennessee smiled, showed his white teeth, and saying, “Euchred, old man!” held out his hand. Tennessee’s partner took it in his own, and saying, “I just drop ped iu as I was passiu’ to see how thiugs was gettin’ on,” let the hand passively full, and adding that “it was a warm night,” again mopped his face with his handkerchief, aud without an other word withdrew. The two men never again met each other alive. For the unparalelled insult of a bribe offered to Judge Lynch—who, whether bigoted, weak or narrow, was at least incorruptible —firmly fixed in the miud of that mythical personage any wavering determination of Ten nessee’s fate; aud at the break of day he was marched, closely guarded, to meet it at the top of Marley’s Hill. How he met it, how cool he was, how he refused to say anything, how perfect were the arrangements of the Commit tee, were all duly reported—with the addition of a warning moral and exam ; pie to all future evil doers —in the “Red Dog Clarion,” by its editor, who was preseut, and to whose vigorous Euglish I cheerfully refer the reader. But the beauty ofthat midsummer morning, the blessed amity of earth and air aud sky, the awakened life cf Ihe free woods aud hills, the joyous renewal and promise of nature, aud above all, the infinite se renity that thrilled through each, was not reported, as not being a part of the social lesson, And yet, when the weak aud foolish deed was done, and a life with its possibilitiesaud responsibilities, had passed out of the misshapen thing that dangled between earth and sky, t he birds sung, the flowers bloomed, the sun shone as cheerily as before; and possibly the “Red Dog Clarion” was right. Tennessee’s Partner was not iu the group tbatsurrouuded theomnious tree. But us they turned to disperse, attention was called to the singular appearance ol a motionless donkey cart halted at the side of the road. As they approached theyatouce recognized the venerable “Jenny" aud the two-wheeled cart as the property of Tennessee’s Partner used by him in carrying dirt from his claim; and a few paces distant the owner of the equipage himself, sitting under a buckeye tree, wiping the pers piration from his glowing face. Iu an swer to an inquiry, he said he had come for the body of the “diseased,” “if it was all the same to the committee." He didn’t wish to “ hurry anything ;" he could " wait." He was not working that day; aud when the gentlemen were done with the “diseased" he would take him. “Ef thar is any present," he added, in his simple, serious way, “as would care to jiue ia the fuu’l they kiu come." Perhaps it was from a sense of humor, which I have already intimated was a feature of Sandy Bar ; perhaps it was from something even better than that; but two thirds of the loungers accepted the invitation at once. It w*as noon when the body of Ten nessee was delivered iuto the hands of nis partner. As the cart drew up to the fatal tree, we noticed that it contained a rough, oblong box —apparently made from a section of sluiciDg —and half filled with bark and the tassels of pine. The cart was further decorated with slips of willow, aud made fragrant with buckeye blossoms. When the body was deposited in the box, Tennessee’s part ner drew over it a piece of tarred canvas, and gravely mouuting the narrow seat in front, with hia feet upon the shafts, urged the little donkey forward. The equipage moved slowly on, at that de corous pace which was habitual with “ Jenny ” even uuder less solemn cir cumstances. The men—half curiously, half jestingly, but all good humoredly— strolled along beside the cart; some in advance, some a little in the rear of the homely catafalque. But, whether from the narrowing of the road, or some pres ent sense of decorum, as the cart passed the company fell to the rear in couples, keeping step, and otherwise assuming the external appearance of a formal pro cession. Jock Follnsbee, who had, at the outset, played a funeral march in durnb show upon an imaginary trom bone, desisted, from a Jack of sympathy and appreciation—not having, perhaps, your true humorist’s capacity to be con tent with the enjoyment of his own fun. Theway led through Grizzly Canon— by this time clothed in funeral drapery and shadows. The redwoods, burying their moccassined feet in the red soil, stood in Indian file along the track, trailing an uncouth benediction from their bending boughs upon the passing bier. A hare, surprised into helpless inactivity, sat upright and pulsating,in the ferns by the roadside, as the cortege went by. Squirrels hastened to gain a secure outlook from higher boughs; and the blue jays, spreading their wiDgs, fluttered before them like outriders, un til the outskirts of Sandy Bar were reached, and the solitary cabin of Ten nessee’s Partner. Viewed under more favorable circum stances, it would not have been a cheer ful place. The unpicturesque site, the rude and unlovely outline, the unsavory details, which distinguish the nest building of the California miner, were all here, with the dreariness of decay superadded. A few paces from the cabin there was a rough euclosure, which, in xhe brief days of Tennessee’s Partner’s matrimonial felicity, had been used as ! a garden, but now overgrown with fern, j As we approached it, we were surprised j to find that what we had taken for a recent attempt at cultivation, was the broken soil about an open grave. Tbe cast was halted before the - n closure; and rejecting the offers of assistance, with the same air of sirnplo self-reliance he had displayed through out, Tennessee’s Partner lifted the i rough coffin on his back, and deposited j it, unaided, within the shallow grave. 1 He then nailed down the board which s?rved as a lid ; andmounting the little mound of earth beside it, took off his hat and slowly mopped his face with his handkerchief. This the crowd felt was preliminary to speech ; and they disposed themselves variously ou stumps and boulders, and satexpectaut. “ When a man,” began Tennessee’s Partner, slowly, “ has been running free ull day, what’s the natural thing i for him to do? Why, to come home. — i And if he ain’t in a condition to go | home what can his best friend do? I Why, bring him home! Aud here’s | Teunessee has been running free, and j picked up a fragment of quartz, r-ybbed j It thoughtfully ou his sleeve, and weut l on : "It ain’t the first time that I’ve packed him on my back as yousee’d me uow. It alu’t the first time that I brought him to this yer cubiu when he couldn't help himself; it ain’t the first time I aud ‘Jinny’ have waited forhim on yon hill, and picked him up and so fetched him home, wheu he couldu’t speak and Uidu't know me. Aud now that it’s the last lime —why”—he paus ed, and rubbed the quartz geutly on his sleeve—“ you see it’s sort of rough on his pardner. And now, gentlemen,” j he added, abruptly, picking up his loDg-handled shovel, “the fuu'l’s over; and my thanks,and Teuuessee’s thanks, to you for yourtrouble.” Resisting any proffers of assistance, he began to fill iu the grave, turmug his back upon tbe crowd, that after a few moments’ hesitation gradually withdrew. As they crossed the little ridge that hid Sandy Bar .from view, some, looking back, thought they could see Tennessee's Partner, his work doue, sitting upon the grave, his shovel be tween his knees, and hi 3 face buried in his red bandanna handkerchief. But it was argued Ly others that you couldu’t tell his face from his handkerchief at that distance ; and this point remained undecided. In the reaction that followed the fev erish excitement of that day, Tennes see’s Partner was not forgotten. A se cret investigation had cleared him of auy complicity iu Tennessee’s guilt, and left only a suspicion of his general sanity. Sandy Bar made a point of calling on him, and proffering various uncouth, but well-meant kindnesses. — But from that day his rude health and great strength seemed to visibly de cline ; and when tho rainy season fair ly set in, and the tiny grass blades were beginning to peep from the rocky mound above Tennessee’s grave, he took to his bed. One night when the pines beside the cabin were swaying in the storm, and trailing their slender fingers over the roof, and the roar and rush of the swol len river were heard below. Tennes see's Partner lifted his bead from the pillow, sayiug :—“ It is time to go for Tennessee; I must put ‘Jinny’ in the cart;” and would have risen from his bed but for his attendant. Struggling, he still pursued his singular fancy ; “ There, —now- steady, ‘Jinny’ —steady old girl, llow dark it is ! Look out for the ruts—and look out for him too old gal. Sometimes he's blind drunk, an' drops down right in the trail. Keep on straight up to the pine on the top of the hill. Thar—l told you so!—thar he is coming this way too—all by himself, sober, and his faee a shining. Tennes see! Partner.” Aud so they met. Putting Up Stoves. The ceremony of this ‘great vexation' of,the season is so well described ty Mark Twain—who has been through it —that we gladly reproduce the descrip tion, at the same time commending its truthfulness and appropriateness. The lords of the household, upon whom the I unpleaaantduty annually devolves, will ! find here a pen picture just sooted to their case. But for Twain's own words : In consequence of the arrival of cold weather once more, about these days there is a universal putting' up of stoyes, preparatory for the winter campaign, and undoubtedly a great deal of profanity is indulged in.— One who has considerable experience in the work of puttiug up stoves, says, fho first step to be taken Is to put on a vyy old and ragged coat, uuder the impression that wbeu he gets his mouth full of plaster it will keep his shirt bosom clean. Next he gets his hands inside the place where the pipe ought to go, and blacks his fingers, aud then ho carefully makes a black mark down on oue side of his nose. It is im possible to make any headway, in doiug this work, until his markis made down the side of the nose. Having got his face properly marked, the victim is ready to begin the ceremony. The head of the family—who is the big goose of the sacrifice —grasps one side of the bot tom of the stove, and his wife aud the hired girl take hold of the other side. In this way the burdensome load is started from the woodshed toward the parior. Going through the door the head of the family will carefully swiug his side of the stove around and jam his thumb nail against the door. This part of the ceremooy is never omitted. Having got the family comfortably in place, the next thing is to fiud thelegs. Two of these are left inside the stove since the spring before. The other two must be hunted after for twenty-five minutes. They are usually found un der the coal. Then the head of the family bolds up one side of the stove while his wife puts two of the legs in place, and next he holds up the other side while the other two are fixed, and one of the firet two falls out. By the time the stove is on its legs begets reckless and takes off his old coat regardless of his linen. Then he goes off for the pipe and gets a cinder in his eye. It don’t make any difference how well the pipe was put up last year it will be found a little too short or a little too long. The head of the family jams his hat over his eyes and taking a pipe under each arm goes to the tin shop to have it fixed. When begets back he steps upon one of the best par lor chairs to see if the pipe fits, and his wife makes him get down for fear he will scratch the varnish off from the chairs with the nails in his boot heel. In getting down he will sure ly step on the cat, and may thank his stars if it is not the baby!— Then he gets an old chair and climbs up to the chimney again to find that in cutting the pipe off the end has been left too big for the hole in thechimney. So he goes to the woodshed and splits one side of the end of the pipe witn an old axe, and squeezes it in his hands to make it smaller. Finally he gets the pipe in shape and finds that the stove does not stand true. Then himself aDd wife and the hired girl move the stove to the left and the legs fall out again.— Next is to move to the right. More difficulty with the legs. Moved to the front a little. Elbow not even with the hole in the chimney, and he goes to the wood shed after some little blocks. While puttiug the blocks under the legs the pipe comes outof thechimney. Thatreme died the elbow keeps tipping over to the great alarm of the wife. Head of the family gets the dinner table out, puts the old chair on it, gets his wife to hold the chair, and balances himself on it to drive some nails into the ceiling, Drops the hammer onto wife’s head. At last gets the nails driven, makes a wire swing to hold the pipe, hammers a little there, takes a long breath, and announces the cere mony completed. Job never put up anyßtoves. It would have ruined his reputation if he had. Tbe ambition of very young men to make an Impression on tbe andieuce is well illqs trated by Bn anecdote of Edwin Adamp, now one of tbe most accomplished and nop* ular of our American actors He entered the profession at tbe bottom round of tbe ladder, and the first words be bad to speak consisted ofthesimpleannouncement, “My lord, the carriage awaits.” Tbe temptation was too greata one for tbe vaulting youth to resist, and having made his announcement, be added, with great emphasis and dignity, “And, sir, tbe man who would lay bis hand on a woman, save In kindness, is no gen tleman.” Tbe sentiment won the favor of tbe‘‘gods of tbe gallery,” Adams received a hearty round of applause, acknowledged it by a bow, and walked off triumphantly, but to tbe great astonishment and dismay of the other actors. imfortast decision. A ( ouirnct for the Payment of Con cd orate Notes mad'' daring tbe Late itt-belllon, may be Enforced In tbelonrts of tbe tint ’ tiKl States,—Opinion by cblef J notice Cbaso. Washington, D. C , Nov. 1. —The following important opinion was deliv ered to day in the Supreme Court of the United States No. 112 Thorington vs. Smith & Hartley.—Opinion of the Court by Chief Justice Chase. This Is a bill In Equity for the en forcement of a vendor's Her. It is not denied that Smith & Hartley purchased Thorington’s laud, or that they executed to him their promissory note for part of the purchase money, as set forth in his bill; or that, If there wa9 nothing more in the case, he would be entitled to a decree for the amount of the note aud iuterest, and for the sale of tho laud to satisfy the debt. But it is insisted, by the way of defeuce, that the negotiation for the purchase of the laud look place, and that the note iu controversy, payable oue day after date, was made, at Montgomery, in the State of Alabama, where all the parties resided in November, 1804, at which tirno the authority of the United States was excluded frum that portion of the Slate, and the only currency In use consisted of Confederate Treasury notes issued aud put in circulation by persons exercising the ruling power of the btutes iu rebellion, known as the Confederate Government. It was also insisted that the laud pur chased was worth no more than three thousaud dollars iu lawful money ; that the contract price was forty-fiye thou saud dollars;,that this price, by the agreement of the parties, was tobopaid iu Confederate notes; that thirty-live thousand dollars were actually paid in these notes, and that the note given for the remaining ten thousand dollars was to be discharged in the same manner ; and it is*claimed on this state of facts, that the vendor is entitled to no relief iu a Court of the Uuitei States, and this claim was sustained in tho Court below, and the bill was dismissed. The questions before us on appeal are these: First, cau a contract for the pay ment of Confederate notes, made during the late rebellion, between parties residing within the so called Confederate States, be enforced at all in the Courts of the United States? Second: Can evidence be received to prove that a promise ex pressed to be for the payment of dollars was in fact, and for the payment ofany other than lawful dollars of the United States? Does the evidence in the record establish the fact that the note for ten thousand dollars was to be paid, by agreement of the parties, iu Confeder ate notes? The first question Is by no means free from difficulty. It cannot be questioned that the Confederate notes were issued in furtherance of an unlawful attempt to overthrow the Government ot the United States by insurrectionary to r ce. Nor is it a doubt ful principle of law that no contract made in aid of such an attempt can be enforced through the Couita of the couutry whose government is thus as sailed. J}ut was the contract of the par ties to'this suit a coutract of that char acter-can it be fairly described as a contract in aid of the rebellion ? Iu ex amining this question, the state of that part of the country in which it was made must be considered. It is familar history that, early in ISGI, tho authori ties of seven States, supported, as w’as alleged, by popular majorities com bined, for the overthrow of the National Union, and for the establishment, with in its boundaries, of a separate and in- i dependent confederation. A govern mental organization representing these States was established at Montgomery, in Alabama, first under a provisional constitution, and afterwards under a constitution intended to be permanent. Iu the course of a few months four other States acceded to this confedera tion, and the seat of the central author ity was transferred to llichmond, in Virginia. It was by the central autor ity thus organized, and under its direc tion, that tbe civil war was carried on upou a vast scale agaiust the Govern ment of the UnitedStatesfor more than four years. Its power was recognized as supreme in nearly the whole of the terrilory of the States confederated. It was the actual government of all the ; insurgent States, except those por tions of them protected from its con trol by the presence of the armed forces of the National Government. What was the precise character of this government in contemplation of law? It is difficult to define it with exactness. Any definition that may be given may not improbably be found to require limitation and qualification.— Bui the general principles of law rela ting to a de facto government will, we think, conduct us to a conclusion suffi ciently accurate. There are several degrees of what is called dc facto gov ernment. Such a government, in its highest degrees, assumes a character very closely resembling that of a lawful government. This is when the usurp ing government expels the regular au thorities from their customary seats and functions, and establishes itself in their places, and so becomes the actual gov ernment of acountry. The distinguish ingcharacteristics of such a government is that adherents toitin waragainstthe government dc jure do not incur the penalties of treason ; and, under certain limitations, obligations assumed by it in behalf of the country or otherwise will, in general, be respected by the govern ment de jure when restored. Examples of this description of gov ernment de facto are found in English history. Thestatute 11, Henry VII., C. I. (Brit. Slat, at large), relieves from penalties far treason all persons who, in defence of the King for the time being, wage war against those who endeavor to subvert hjs authority by force of arms, though warranted in so doiDg by the lawful monarch (4 81. Comm., 77). But this is where the usurper obtains actual possession of tho royal authority of the kingdom; not when hs has sue ceeded only in establishing his power overparticularlocalities. Being in such possession, allegiance is due to him as king de facto. Another example may be found in tbe government of England under the Com monwealth, first by Parliament and afterwards by Cromwell as Protector. I It was Dot, in the contemplation of law, I a government dc jure, but. it was a gov eminent de facto in the absolute sense. It made laws, trealies, and conquests, which remained the laws, treaties and conquests of Eogland after the restora tion. The better opinion is that facta done in obedience to this government could not be justly regarded as treason able, though in hostility to the king de jure . Such acts were protected from criminal prosecution by the spirit, if not the letter, of the statute of Henry the Seventh. It was held otherwise by tbe judges by whom Sir Henry Vane was tried for treason (6 State Trials, 119) in the year following the restoration. But such ajudgment in such a time has little authority. It is very certain that the Confeder ate government was never acknowl edged by tbe United States as a de facto government in this sense, nor was it acknowledged as such by powers. No treaties were made by it. No obligations of a national character were created by it binding, after its dissolution, on the States which it represented or on the national government, From a very early period of the war to its close it was regarded as simply the military representative of the insurrection against the authority of the United States. But there is another description of government, called by publicists a gov ernment de facto , but which might, perhaps, be more aptly denominated a government of paramount force. Its distinguishingcharacteristicare (1) fh&t its existence is maintained by active military power within the territories and against the rightful authority for established and lawful government; and (2) that while it exists it must necessa rily be obeyed in civil matters by pri vate citizens, who, by acts of obedience rendered in submission to such force, do not become respousible_as wrong doers for these acts, though not warranted by the .laws of the rightful government. Actual governments of this sort are es tablished over districts differing greatly in extent and conditions, they are usu ally administered directly by military authority; but they may be adminis tered also by civil authority, supported more or less by military force. One example of this sort of govern ment is found in the case of Castine, in Maine, reduced to a British possession (the War of 1812.) From the Ist of Sep tember, 1814, to the ratification of the NUMBER 45 treaty of peace in I*ls, accordiugto the judgment of the court, in the United ! States va. Rice (4 Wheat., 253), “the British government exercised all civil and military authority overthe piece.” The authority of the United States over the territory was suspended, and the laws of the United States could no longer be rightfully enforced there, or bo obligatory upon the Inhabitants who remained and submitted to the conqueror. By the surrender the In habitants passed under a temporary al legiance to the British government, aud were bound by such laws’ and such only as it chose to recognize aud Im pose. It Is not to be inferred from this that the obligations of the people of Castlne, as citizens of the United States was abrogated. They were suspended merely by the presence, aud only dur ing the presence, of the paramount force. A like example is found lathe case of Tampico, occupied Uuriug the war with Mexico by the troops of the United States. It was deter mined by this court, in Fleming vs. Page (9 How., 014), thatalthough Tam picojdld not become a part of the United States in consequence of that occupa tion, still, ha.viug come together with the whole Stato of Twmauilpus/.of which it was part, into the exclusive posses sion of the national forces, it must be regarded aud respected by other nations as the territory of the Uuited States. There were cases of temporary posses siou of territory bylawful and regular governments at war with the eouutry, of which the territory so possessed was part. The ceutral government cstab lished for the insurgent states differed from the temporary governments at Castine and Tampico iu the circum stance that its authority did not origin ate iu lawful acts of regular war; but It was not on that accouut less active or less supreme, aud wo think thutit must be classed amomg the governments of which these are examples. It Is to be observed that the rights and obligations of a belligerent were conceded to it in its military character, very soon after the war begau, from motives of human ity and expediency, by the Uuited States. The whole territory controlled by it was thereafter held to bo the enemy’s territory, aud the inhabitants of that territory were held In most respects for enemies. To the extent, theu of actual supremacy, however un lawfully gained, iu all matters of gov ernment within its military lines, the power of the insurgent government cannot be questioned. That supremacy would not justify acts of hostility to the United States. How far it should ex cuse them must be left to the lawful government upon the re-establishment of its authority. But it made civil obedience to its authority not ouly a necessity but a duty. Without such obedience civil older was impossible. It was by this government exercising its power through an immense territory that the Confederate notes were issued early in the war, aud these notes, in a short time, became almost exclusively the currency of the insurgent States. As contracts in themselves, iu the con tingency of successful revolution, these notes were nullities, for except In that exent there could be no payer. They ■ bore, indeed, this character, upon their face, for they were made payable only “ after a ratification of a treaty of peace between the Confederate States and the Uuited States of America.” While the war lasted however, they had a certain contingent value, and were used as mon ey in nearly all the business transactions ofmany millioDsof people. They must be regarded therefore, as a currency im posed on the community by irresistible force. It seems to follow as a necessary consequence from the actual supremacy , of the insurgent government, as a bel- ligerent, within the territory where it circulated, aud the necessity of civil obedience on the part of all who remain ed in it, that this’ currency,must be re garded in the courts of law in the same light as if it had been Issued by a for eign government temporarily occupy ing a part of the territory of the Uuited States. Contracts stipulating for pay ments in that currency cannot be re garded as m£de in aid of the foreign invasion in the one case, or of the do mestic insurrection in the other. They are transactions in the ordinary course of civil society, and, though they may indirectly and remotely promote the ends of the unlawful government, are without blame, except when proved to have been entered into with actual in tent to further the invasion or insur rection. We cannot doubt that such con tracts should beenforced in thecourts of the United States, after the restoration of peace, to the extent of their 11 rat obli gation. The first question, therefore, must receive an affirmative answer. The second question, whether evidence can be received to prove that a promise made in one of the insurgent States, and expressed to be for the payment of dollars, without qualifying words, was, in fact, made for the payment of any other than lawful dollars of the United States, is next to be considered. It is quite clear that a contract to pay dollars made between citizens of any State of the Union maintaining its coDstitu tionul relations with the national gov ernment is a contract to pay lawful money of the United States, and cannot be modified or explained by parole evi dence. But it is equally clear, if in any other eouutry coius or notes denomi nated dollars should be authorized of different value from the coins-or notes which are current hero under that name, that iu a suit upon a contract to pay dollars made in that eouutry evi dence would be admitted to prove what kind of dollars was intended ; and, ifit should turn out that foreign dollars meant, to prove their equivalent value in lawful mopey of the United States. Such evidence does not modify or al ter the contract. It simply explains an ambiguity which, under the general rules of evidence, may be removed by parole evidence. We have already seen that the people of the insurgent States, under this Confederate government, were, in legal contemplation, substan tially in the same condition as inhabi tants of districts of a country occupied and controlled by an InvadiDg bellger ent. The rules which would apply to the former case would apply to the latter, and, as in the former case, the people must be regarded as subjects of a foreign power, and contracts among them be interpreted aDd enforced with reference to the laws imposed by the conqueror, so in the latter case the In habitants must be regarded as under the authority of the jnsurgent beliger ents, actually established as the govern ment of the country; and contracts made with them must be interpreted aud iuferred with reference to the con dition of things created by the acts of the governing power. It is said, indeed, that under the in surgent government the word dollars had the same meaning as under the government of the United Utates; that the Coefederate notes were never made a legal tender; and, therefore, that no evideuce can be received to show any other meaning of the word when used in a contract. But it must be remembered that the whole couditiou of things in the insur gent States was matter of fact, rather than matter of law, aud as mutter of fact these notes, payable at a future and contingent day, which has uot arrived, and cau never arrive, were forced into circulation as dollars, if not directly by the legislation, yet indirectly aud quite as effectively by the acts of the insur gent government. Considered in them selves, and in the light of subsequent events, these notes had no real value, but they were made current as value by irresistible force ; they were the only measure of value which this people had, and their use was a matter of almost absolute necessity, and this gave them a sort of a value, insignificant and precarious enough, it is true, but always having a sufficient definite relation to gold aud silver, the universal measures of value, so that it was easy to ascertain how much gold and silver was the real equivalent of a sum ex pressed in the currency. In the light of these facts H seems hardly less than absurd to say that these dollars must be regarded as identical in kind and value with the dollars which constitute the money of the United States. WecaDnot shut our eyes to the fact that they were essentially different in both respects, and it seems to us that no rule of evi dence, properly understood, requires us to refuse, uuder the circumstances, to admit proof of the sense in which the word dollar was actually used in the contract before us. Our answer to the second question is therefore, also in the affirmative. We are clearly of the opinion that such ev idence must be received in respects to snch contracts in order that justice may bo done between the parties, and that ATE OP ADVERTISING. Bcbi.vebs- pj* qaare of ten lines; 16 per year for each sc* altloaxl square. Real Estate Abveutajueo, 10 oentaa line tot the first, and 6 oonU for eaoh subsequent In sertion. Central Advertising 7 conta a lino Tor the first, and 4 cobU for each aabioqncnt Inser tion. Bpioial Noners Inserted in Local Column IS cents per line. Special Notices preceding marriage* and deaths, 10 cents per line for first InaorUt nt and 6 eenta tbr every snbeeqaent Insertlonfl liXO AJ. Aim OTH B B NOTICES— Execators’ „ —.— -LEO Administrators’ notices,,, — L6O Assignees’ nntteAit. —:— ifiO Auditors' notloes,. 2.00 Other u Notloes,*'ten lines, or lees, 3 three tlmes^...—L6o the party entlt'cd to be pad In theso Confederate dollars can only receive their actual value at the time aud place of the contract in lawful money of the United States. We do uot think it nec essary to go Into a detailed examination of the evidence in (ho record in order to vindicate our answer to the thlid ques tion. It is euough to say that it has left no doubt in our minds that the uotu forslo 000. to euforco paymeut of which suit was brought In the Circuit Court, was to bo paid by agreement iu Confed erate notes. Ii follows that the judg ment of the Circuit Court must be re versed aud the cause remanded for a new trial, iu conformity with this opln lou. A Wonderful Blaine of Uypsmu. Albany, October 27. —Tho undersigned, on (bo 22d instant, visited and examined tho “ Fossil Mau," or " Sculptured Giant." Negotiations for its purchase being ut that time in progress, it was (bought improper for us ut that time to express our couvlc tiotis of its character. The sale having been perfected, wo nro now ut liberty to make the following statement: In common with all who have viewed this object, wo were deeply Impressed by its extraordinary appearance, and as we look upou it our wonder at the intense excite mont which it had producod, Immediately vanished. When we had fully compre hended its character, the inquiry spontane ously uroae, by whom was ft made? when and by whom placod here? It la not strange that it hus been regarded ns a pet riljeation. Tho popular idea on this sub ject is vaguo and undefined. A stone which, by accidental circumstances, has the form of an organized being is regarded as petrified, without iuqulry Into tho mode iu which the chaugo lias been made. It la sufficient here to say, that tho soft parta of animals are never petrified. Putrifuction, which commences us soon us tho vital forces cease, is rapid. Petrifaction, which consists in a replacing of tho dissolved or removed organic matter, Is slow, often oc cupying years. There Is no authentic instance oi petrified ilesh, nor can there bo in tho nature of things. Tho object is a statue, wrought by the bund of man, aud as muyb is wonderful iu thu highest degree. Tho material of which It is formed Is gypsum, and was probably taken from sorno of the deposits of that mineral in tho county of Onondaga. When tho statue has been raised fromfita presont place, there will be a bolter opportunity of examining tho character of the stone, of determining its relations to existing gypad otis strata, and of ascertaining whether it was wrought by stone or steel Implements. The statue lies on a bed of gravel and clay, and was covered by an alluvial formution of nearly four feet in depth. This has every appearance of having been formed ufterdho statue was placed In Us present position. As a work of art, it is Impressive. When it passed from the bands of the artist it must buvo been expressive and beautiful. Wo do not propose any theory in regard to its origin. Much examination must yet be rnude, und various comparisons institu ted, boforo uny such tboory can bo formed; Wo are informed that-the owners invito the most searching examination in regurd to It, und we uro pormltted to say that tho Regents of the University, to whom inqui ries of this character have beon committed by tho Legislature, will soon adopt meas ures evidently demanded by public inter est, to ascertain and collect all the faots which can be gathered bearing on the sub • jeut. Jameh Ball, .State Geologist. S. B. Woolworth, Secretary of the Regents of the University, A ftobro Duel at Paris Prince Melternlcb, the Austrian Ambas sador at Paris, recently fought a duel with Count do Beaumont, u French noblemun. The Prince received the challenge. Not long ago M. tie Beaumont discovered a number oi letters In bis wife’s boudoir.— Their contents displeased him. The authors were men of rank und distinction. Princo Metternich was ono of them. .Count jdo Beaumont answered tho letters with bis own hand, and tho unswers were challenges to fight. The duel was fought on an island in the Rhine, near Strasburg, belonging to the grand dueby or Buden. The middle of the forenoon was the time chosen for the en counter. Prince Metternich had the choice of weapons, and selected tho sabre, as ho hus been a euvalry officer, and therefore Is familiar with Us use. His antagonist, though a good swordsman with the rapier, which wounds only by thrustß, did not so well understand the use of the sabre, which is mainly a cutting weapon. When the tight began, Beaumont, ignor unt of the usages ot the sabre-combat,rush ed on the Prince with the point of his sword, Just as though it were a rapier. His antagonist was astounded at the novelty of this attack. Be forgot himself for the in stant. The Count closed upon him, and pierced bis right arm above tho elbow com pletely through. The artery was severed, und blood gushed from the wound in streams. Tho Priuce turned deadly pale, but retained bis self-command sufficiently to return the Count's salute, as required by the duelling code. Neither of the adven turers spoke a word. The Prince was tak* 'on to a neighboring chatean, and for sover- nl hours was insensible, so that it was fear ed that be would die. He was bettor at the latest advices. This is the third duel fongbt In conse quence of the letters to the CountASs do Beaumont. Her husband first fought Vis count Ilaliy-Cluparede, and seuerely wounded him. The Viscount, shortly after bis escape from deulh at the hands of M. do Beaumont, was nearly killed by a kind of foot poisoning, occasioned by weariug red silk slippers. A second duel wus fought between M. do Beaumont’s younger broth er and another of the offending letter wri erß, who was badly wounded. The Metterp nidi duel is the last up to the present time; but Count de Beaumont hus appointments to fight two other gentlemen, while many others remain to be challenged. Priuce Metternich is a favorite in Paris society, and the duel has excited much in • terest. It is singular that be should have been wounded through the ignorance ofhls opponent. Count de Beaomont, though uninstructed in tho sabre exercise, was successful; if he had known more about tbe usual method of fighting, he mighthave been defeated. Tho Paris Figaro says that it is one of the conditions of M. de Beaumont's challenges that tbe duels sh ill continually be renewed as soon as tho wounded recover until one of tho two Is killed. A Little School Girl nnrdered. The Hartford iConn.) Oouranl gives the following account of an inhuman and fatal outrage committed by a woman school teacher in that State: “ The punishment occurred In one of tho district schools In the town of Manchester, and tho teacher who Inflicted It is a young woman named Emerette Campbell.— AmoDg her scholars was a girl named Wheeler, aged about eight years, and this little girl, together with two others, was deficient in her geography lesson. There were certain questions which tbe child could not or did not answer, and Miss Campbell, belioyiog this inability aroso from wiltulness, told the child to stand upon tbe floor of tbe school room till the replies were given, adding that tbe punish ment w'ould be continued until the lesson was properly recited. Tbe little girl did as she was bidden, and was kept upon the floor during a portion of tbe morning exer cises, all through the noon recess with the excoptionofa few moments allowed her to leave the room, and It is stated all the afternoon—making in all nearly five hoars. “ This pu lishment would have been more than most grown people could havo endured ; but for u child of eight years,and ono of very nervous temperament at that, It v hr carrying tbe authority of tbe sobool room altogether too far. Tbe sequel proves this. When the little one returned to her parents that night sbo was in a high stato of fear and excitement, and very Boon the shock to her system resulted in a high brain fever, in which she lingered about forty eight hours, and died I During the most of the time of her sickness she was delirious, and cried out constantly, in heart-rending tones, * Don’t let her ! don’t let her I ’ refer ring all tbe time to the teacher, whom sho seemed to imagine was following her. In her more rational momeuts she spoke peacefully, and asked her parents repeated ly, ‘ When will Jesus come?* evidently re alizing that she was drawing nearer home.” The Synod of Virginio, which met in the SecoDd Presbyterian Church in Richmond, recently, is one of Ihe oldest Synods on thla contineut. When, shortly after tbe Inde pendence of the United Slates, tbo Presby terian Chnrch was reorganized, In 1788 (the year of tbe adoption of the Federal Consti tution), tbe Synod of Virginia and the Caro jiDus was ono of the four Synodsinto which the Cnurch waa divided. The increase of population and the progress of religion compelled tbe departure of the two Synods of North and of South Carolina from the house of their common mother. As it has not been subject to political legislation, this Synod at present embraces all the Presby terian Churches in East and West Virginia, and many of those in Maryland. It stretches from the ocean to the Ohio and from North Carolina to Pennsylvania. ]t numbers 9 presbyteries, 187 ministers, 17 lioentiates, and 21 candidates for the ministry. Ou its roll are tbe names of 250 Churches and of 17,480 communicants. In the published report of the proceed ings of the Grand Lodges of the United States of the Order of Free and Accepted Masons, It is stated that the membership of the order in tbo different States and Terri tories and the British possessions reaches 454 355. Including 4,791 in Maryland, 1,783 in the District of Columbia, 8,000 in Vir ginia, 11,184 in North Carolina, 13,107 In Georgia, 29,850 in Pennsylvania, and 10,969 in Tennessee.
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