Mal I=o TOWANDA: , n ftlorninn, annttst 28, 1852 ' - i' Il if 6 La 1 1? L 6 Et -0 11:111OR OF " Letsurte 11017R3 AT SEA.' " Foul deeds will nse, .cn} actin thetri to men's eyes." daessrEists tr ate!er who rases, during the summer or ra^: Ifs of the year through the States of .09 laat lie west of the Oliio river,—lndiana particular—will often pause in his f ee :i n zi of irrepressible admiration, ,;:•,., the ten thousand beauties which „orisfeati through those regions with an v Lheral. hand. The majestic moan '.e heavens on its cloudy top, does t.fe tviest ins astonishing eye, and the CI tram a dizzy height, and r;'9 whirling depths below, then showers, forms no part of c cuter scenes. But the wide -0. I?re'. at".. me waveless lake, from ~! ,prings up with a luxuri- in any other part of our country, __ e PaLnfal is besprinkled with of flowers, ravishing the I,.vehrress and tilling the air with ,3.4ttin, on either side of these Iling arrayed " like host to eall !crests, whose silence has not ,:seri by the voice of man, and through. recesses the dear stalk in herds, e .:rress c.l primeval natthe—these are „ceries that call forth a passing tribute a every beholder. Snell is their stn . hut -when winter ” has taken angrily cance," not even the painter's pencil a conception of the bleakness and change.. Then those extensive , c oveical with the infinitely diversified become one %%line unvaried :he vistas of the naked trees nothing but snow; and if from the chilly t 1 ea:tii, the wearied eye looks up to heavy clouds, driven along upon seem surcharged to bursting, with the e:emeti:. It was during the latter sea ti,c,,:er.t of our story took place. 1::e of December, some ten or ;ear , ag,), t. e! rre Illinois was admitted a ,:.'o I:ilioti, on the afternoon of a day een ui,cormnoilly mild, and during the wi,.,:h there had occurred a light fall of x. i , e7.,0:1, were seen riding along one move prairi e s in a northern direction.— :tenic,l advancing in years, and was ;I,e the d habiliments of the country.— t,, itl of the of an otter, and a et I.`lo_ linseyWoolsey covered his y jrzceildor r t iota) knees, and trimmed :t.. cr;age. It was fastened round the a ~ ! irlu of a buckskin, to which was al- Je.! a hullo-pouch made of the some ma -11;6 feet were covered with buck le:tgins of stout cloth were w tap •rra. Ln.es ruund l,rs lu"•s fastened above aLLI at the alleles with strings of green Me horse ho bestrode was so small that :staltrr:ststriggled on the ground, and gait n hid' is denominated roan's hair .tell in long and trn- beueath hi; cap, and was white with mai;y winters: while the eallowness gave pruol of a long residence .:d!liva!ed parts of the country, where -,re v.ege!aUe decay, and the stagnation J.es water ; produce perennial agues. a- a yuci,g man, dressed accord _ fushiutt of the cities of the a::1 btc_thi blue eyes evinced 'that e tho effects of climate.— uusa spirited horse, and carried butt resting on his toe—a heavy- 7 r5ir...,!011,.' said ihe elder per - 1:0 n:oie ha' looked to see one of about wi' you a rase Kentocu • ! I'd be riding tnybeli I did!' t bee it in your bands, I wear t;lat 11 . r.: Jim Buck horn's." Co: reedy, 11r. Silverbiglit," : , .::,6.cdaa—" I believe you know Ae et tilts part DI the territory!' . Lati.ll:tl a power of 'em in my u:d man, 0 and there ain't Sangamo and the Misbis k .ow the valley on. I reckon, ,:e SeellilS to you but a clumsy bort . ~:~: but it's biumght down a smart tt.,t and last. That lock's a rale a: ":..r.2 ::i!,'t a truer bore—except mine, t!•c Zetliernelit to get a new sight a. A.NI LiliS arid 'Alajor Marharn's. It • and mine a leetle over -• .und. Jitn has used my bul --t6e4 «e le been out hunting together." ''-' 7 .r7::::11.ed with the worth of the gun," !I vinun, "but stepping into the ~:s ~iii g, t heard hun kan•ent that ed a chahee of bending it out to Jimmy • • 1..m.d,:G to come this way, offered of it myself. la this wilderness ve must -`:and ready to do such little of "'=!a;, Mr. Silverside." '. 10 duubt ktatily meant, doctor, and Jim ";tune ',odd to get his piece again," said but my wonderment is and I don't by it, bow that tinker would trust :c:edmet as that'ere with a Yankee doctor. i ne-1 can't bide seeing a good rifle ''sand that don't know the Vally on it!' Ilirington resigned the weapon with a 41.01 ed stink, for he had been some time ' l, .;lty, ;ilia partly understood the love which' ai w'Y s feels lot a piece of the character . „ '.. • , .... , ' .. .... -.: -,,....... .r. ~._,. , :.,:::..• "..,..,,,,,,, ,-,'.........,-...,.:: ,- zt:, , ..v , -?., , ...?. , . , - , z,.. , ,: , ....z. , : 1 0t - :r.. , :: , 7 7 4, . 74 . 7 . ,r.r..7, , ..a.:. , ;... 3 . , 41 r.:10, : ., :. ,, J .:„...., .....;;,....., ... - . , . ,,, .. - . ,,, ,, , ,..:-. , .!€.f;i4 , , , .. , ::::...--....".z.,--.,...•.",,,,,.4..F.,-"Ct",.:i.,-,-; - ‘ 4, ..a. .'":: , ': ,, k-' , 1 ,,,,, . - .‘" ,,,, '''',"''''''..."--'-' ''''''''''''.,-' ' - '' -. ''' '''''' ''...... - -.-. - . : . ' • . . -,....:, • ..', '-. ' - I- '.. ' .-',:,-.". ',:-• - . 1 . ? 1.2 , : ',:..L,,; , .•:,...'..'', • , , • • _.- • . ) • , ~ .. '. ; .. - _.:-.:k4 . , _I: ';'. •- . '''. ‘. ~',.:'! r.: , ,r,...i i.f., :. ..1 , .... , . . . 1 . .. .. ; . : .1. -.. . . .. ..... • • . .. • .. ... ........ . ... .. . .. ... • ... . • . • • .. _.. • . •.. ........ . .., . of that he had been carrying—he knew, though he old man's manners were rough, there was nothing like roughness in his heart. Indeed the very Per eonwho was loth to trust Jiis young companion with tt gun intrinsically.worth but a trifle, would, nevertheless, as we shall presently see, have an- hesitatingly placed in his charge, without vvitu l ess or receipt, an uncounted or unlimited amount of money. The term Yankee, which we have h9ard him applying in rather a contemptuous manner, was then, and for years after, used indiscriminate ly in reference to all such as emigrated from the States east of the Allegheny mountains. Handing the rifle across his horse to the old hunter, Charles Rivington observed— " I am glad you have offered to take it, Mr. Silversight, for there appears a storm coming inp, and as I wish to reach Mr. Wentworth's to-night, I can make the distance shorter, by crossing through the timber into the other prairie s before I get to Buckhorn's." " Will you be going into town to•morrow,Doctor?" asked Silversight. " will" " Well, then, you can do me a good tum—hefe," Said the old man, handing a little leather bag, " is fifteen dollars in specie; and the rest lour hundred and eighty-five in Shawneetown paper, is wrapped in , this bit of a rag. I want you to pay it into the land office, to clear out old Richly's land ; I was going to take it in; but you'll do jist as well, and save me a long ride." The physician promised to attend to the business, and they kept on together, conversing about such subjects as the nature of the scene suggested, until they reached the place where the path, dividing, pursued oppcsite directions. "This is my nearest way, ". kielie'Ne?" saAl Charles. tit is," answered the man—" this fifth track, that we noticed a while ago, lies on my route—so I'll push my nag a little, WOWS I load this rifle, and it may so be, that I'll over take com pany. Doctor, look here, and you'll know how an old hunter loads his piece—it may stand you in hand some day—l put on a double patch, because my bullets are a leetle smaller than Jim's, you mind I told you. There," said he, as ho shoved the ball to its place, and carefully, poured sonte primitig into the pan, "it's done in quick time by them what have slept, year in and out, with red ndians on every side Of. 'em. Good night to ye, doctor—you needn't lift the sartificates—the regis ter may as well keep 'ern till old Richly goes in himself." So saying, the taro travelers partied, each hrgiog his horse to greater speed, and night threatened shortly to set in dark and stormy. The old hewer, acknowledging to himself in mental soliloquy, that the doctor was a "right nice and cute young fellow, considering he was raised among Yankees," rode briskly along the path, He had proceeded about tour or live miles further on his way, when he perceived that the track he before observed turned aside, towards a little point of timber that put out into the prairie. "So so," said he " Sldy mush has been out among the deer to-day ; I was in hopes 'twas some one going up to the head wa ters," and he kept racking along the road, when di rectly, the report of a musketivas heard reverberat ing through the night, and the old man,- writhing and mortally wounded, fell from his horse, which scared by the occurrence, ran wildly over the prai rie. A torn' was seen, a few minutes after, cau tiously approaching the place, fearful that his vic tim shputd not yet be dead ; but apparently satisfied in this particular, by his motionless silence, he ad vanced, and proceeded immediately to examine the pockets of the deceased. " Damnation !" muttered lie at length, when a fruitless search was finished, " the old curmudgeon has nt got the money atter all ; and I've put a bul let through his head for nothing. I'M sure j Ward him say, in Brown's tavern, _town in the sehlement, that old Richly give it to him to carry ; well, ' his own :atilt, for telling a bragging lie about it, and the gray-headed scoundrel won't never jeer me agin, for using a smooth bore, below a whole cprn pat.y of Kentucky squatters. It carried trueendegh to do his business. I'm sorry I dropped that tfask, any bow, but this powder horn will make some amends," grumbled the wretch, as he tore ar tidie lie spoke of from the breast where it had hung for lorry years. " What the devil have we hen?.?' said lie again, as he struck his foot against 'the rifle that the murdered man had dropped ; " ho, ho," discharging it into the air, " it the worst comes to the worst, they'll think his piece went oft by acci dent .and shot him. But there's no danger—it will snow before-daylight, and cover the trail, and the prairie wolves witl finish the job." Thus muttering, the ruffian remounted the animal • be held by the bridle, and trotted across the prairie, nearly'at right angles with the path along which the unfortunate Limier had been traveling. - It was in a log house, larger, and of rather,more comfortable construction, than was usually seen in • that wilierness country, basides a fire that sent a broad and crackling flame halt way up the capa cious chimney, that there was seated, on the even ing of this atrocious murder, in addition lo its orJi naiy inmates, the young physician from whom we lately parted. Ilia greateciat,hat and overalls ;were laid aside; and he was conversing with that agreea ble buoyancy and pleased expression of countenance which denoted that ho was happy in the society arsand him. Opposite,, and busily employed in knitting, sat a beautiful girl of eighteen. From her • work, whit', seemed to engross an unusual portion of her attention, she every now and then would send a furtive glows to the guest, thus telling, in the silent language Uf tr...e, the tale she never Could have found words to utter. We say she was beau tiful ; and of a complexion so ch., r t h at The eloquent blood spoke through her cheelcr-od so diatually wrought, That one might aileron say of her, her very body tr.... m il t. _ —lf laughing blue eyes, lighted up by Melligt...„ and glossy auburn, ringletts; teeth white ss the snow around her father's dwelling, sod a roots PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH. RERARDLESS OP 1/EiJUNdIATION FROK ANY QUARTER." which, though not tall, was well fohned and grace ful; if all these trattscombined constitute a claim to the epithet, it certainly belonged to her. She was modestly attired in a dress of no costly material ; and the little feet that peeped from underneath it were clothed in white stockings of her own fabrica tion, and in shoes of too coarse a texture ever to .have been purchased from the shelves of a fash ionable city mechanic. Yet that same form had been arrayed in richer apparel, and had been lot lowed by glances of warmer admiration than ever perhaps fell the share of those who are ready to condemn her on account of her garb. Catharine Wentworth was the daughter (at the time of our story the only one,) of a gentleman who had formerly been a wealthy merchant in the city of New York, but whom misfortunes in busi ness had suddenly befallen, and stripped of all his fortune. While surrounded by affluence he had been regarded as remarkably meek and affable; but became proud and unsociable in adversity; and not caring to remain among scenes that continually brought to mind the sad change in his condition, he emigrated, with his whole family, to the wilds of Illinois. He was actuated in part, no doubt, by a higher and better motive. At that time he was the father of another daughter: Louisa, older than Ca tharine, was fast falling a victim to that disease which comes over the human form like autumn over the earth, imparting to it additional graces, but too truly whispering that the winter of death is nigh. The medical attendant of the family, perhaps to fa vor the design which he kne.v Mr. Wentworth en tertained, intimated that a change of climate was their only hope. It it were right in us to detain the reader, and we possessed the power of exhibiting in thermelancholy sweetne.ss of reality, the progress aV.nat interesting female to the grave, till at length she lay down in her attenuated loveliness to awaken in heaven—all who have hearts would moisten the relation with a tear. But we will not—we can nel:— Beneath the prairie turf she lies, And sweetest wilatloNsr.iii dress the sod ; Her stainless soul bulb sought the skies, To dwell forever with its God. How strangely does the human mind accommo date itself to any situation ; the man who had spent his life hitherto in a sumptuous mansion, surround ed by all- those elegancies and means of enjoyment, which, in a large city, are always to be procured by fortune, now experenced, in a log cabin, divided into but four apartments, and those of the roughest kind, a degree of happiness that he had never known before. And well he might be happy, for he was rich—not in money—but in a better, a more enduring kind of wealth. His wife, two hardy arid active sons,'and the remaining daughter, Catharine, -were all around him, smiling in contentment and ruddy in health. We can only estimate our condi tion in this life by comparison with others, and his plantation was as large and as well cultivated, his crops abundant, his stock as good as any of the set tlers on that prairie. lie had still a better source of consolation : Louisa's death, the quiet of the coun try, and the natural wish of every active mind to create to itsell modes of employment, had led him more frequently to read and search the Scriptures than he had found leisure to do before; and this was attended, as it always is, with the happiest re sult, a knowlegg,e'ol love ot him " whom to know is life eternal." But we are digressing. The family of Mr. Wentworth, with the addition of Charles flivington, (whom, indeed, we might al most speak of as one of,its members, for, on the coming New Year's day he was to receive the hand of " their saucy Kate," as the happy parents fondly termed her,) were gathered round the tire-side, con versing freely on earn), topic that presented itself; when a light tap was heard at the door, and Mr. Burnley the deputy sheriff of the county, entered the apartment. He apologized for his intrusion, by saying that having business to attend to at a cabin farther up the prairie, which detained him longer than lie expected, lie should not be able, on accoun t of the darkness of the night, to return to town until the following morning ; he therefore hoped he might be accommodated wi.h a bed. His request was of course readily complied with. He Was a tall dark person, dressed much in the manner of the unfortunate hunter, except that his leggins were of buckskin. He had lost art eye, when a young man, in a scuffle wit an Indian, two of whom sprung upon him from an ambush; I this with a deep scar on his forehead, received in a tavern brawl at New Orleans two or three years be; fore, and the - wrinkles that age, nr more likely hie manner of life had ploughed, gave to his counte nance a sinister and. disagreeable expression. At this time the haggard appearance of his face was increased, either from having ben a long while exposed to the cold, or fromsome latent sickness working on him, for his lip quivered and was of a bloodless hue, and he was remarkably pale.— Charles Rivington, who often met him in his rides, was the first to notice the cliange from his usual ap peaiance. '• You look pale and fatigued, Mr. Burnley; I bore you are trot unwell. - "No, sir—that i , ,—yes I do feel a little sickish, and should be glad to go to bed, if it is convenient," answered Mr. Burnley. " Perhaps there is something that wo can do for you sir !" said the maternal Mrs. Wentworth. "No, ma'am, I thank ye. I reckon a good night's sleep will be best for we ; its what cures all my ailings." And in compliance with his wish, the guest was shown to his apartment. One bY one the different members of -this peace ful family sought their pillows, till soon Charles Rivington and the blushing Catharine were len sole occupants of die room. But though alone, they were not lonely ; he had many an interesting tale to whisper into the maiden'S ear, (for )1 was almost a week since they had met!) andshe, theugh 60010., thing of a chatterbox, when none but her mother ~and brothers werepresent, - on - this occasion betray ed a wonderful stoner's for listening. ' The hours glided rapidly away ; and the gray morning was I , lready advancing, when the happy vOliflg, man, ml - zqinig a good-night kiss upon her cheek, left • - her to those sweet dreams which slumber berlowa only on the young and hint:tent • It was lam in the afternoon of the follOwirig day, that Charles Rivington, being returned to the town where he -resided, was seated in his office, empley ed in counting a roll of notes, a Meet dollars lying at the same time on the table before him, when ' three men abruptly entered the apartment. " You are our prisoner !" cried the foremost of the party. 44 By heaven ! Jim, look there; there's the very money itself I can Swear to that pouch." And here he seized our hero by the collar. " Stand badk sir, and lay hold of me at your per il," returned Charles Rivington, sternly; as , sba; king the man from him, he gave him a blow that sent him to the other side of the office. 44 What is it you have to say I and it lam to be made a prisoner, produce your warrant." " You may as well submit quietly, Doctor Riv ington," said another of the party, who WAS a con stable. " You perhaps can explain everything ; but you must come before Sqoire Lawton. This is my authority, (showing a paper,) and it is only necessary to say that suspicion rests upon. you, as the murderer of old Silversight, who was found shot through the head on the road this morning." " Is it possible ! poor old man, has he really been killed 'I When I parted with him last night, he was not only well but seemed in excellent spit' its," said the doctor. " He parted" from him last night ; mark that Buckhorn ;" said the one who had just received a severe repulse from our hero, and whose name was ' Carlock. "He left him in excellent spirits ! mark what the villain says." " There need be no jeering about it," replied Buckhorn. " Doctor Ilivington, you tended me in my bad lever last spring, and• agin when I had the ch.lls in the fall and you stuck by me truer than any friend I've had since my old mother died, except this ere rifle, and I'm monstrous sorry.l found h where I did. It may be so, that you've got a clear conscience yet ; but though whether or no, though old Silversight and me has bunted to gether many and many's the day, you shall have fair play any how, dam me if you shan't. That 'ere money looks bad ; if it had been a fair fight, we mought a-hushed it up, somehow or 'nether.' Our hero, while Buckhom was 'speaking, had time to reflect that if Silversight was indeed dead, onceinstances would really authorize this arrest.— The rifle which he was known to have carried with him from town, had been found it seems be side the murdered body. The money that the un fortunate man had entrusted to him was discover ad in his possession ; and how could it be proved for what purpose it had' been given to him As these thoughts run rapidly through his mind he turned to the officer and observed. " Mr. Pike, I yield myself your prisoner. I per ceive there are some circumstances that cause sus picion to rest on me, I must rely for a while upon the character which, I trust, I have acquired since my residence among you, for honor and lair deal ing, until I shall either prove my innocence or heaven places in the hands of Justice the real per petrator of the deed." So saying, he gathered up the moncy from the table, and departed with the o ffi cer and his corn: paniona to the house of Mr. Lawton, who, being a Justice of the Peace, bad issued a warrant for his apprehensioa." " I have always been glad to see you heretofore, Dr. Rivington," said the magistrate, politely, on the appearance of that person before him, " and should be so now, were it not that you are charged with a crime, which, if proved, will call down the severest vengeance of the law. I hope and believe, however that you can establish your innoceede.— Where were you, sir, on the afternoon of yeller 'ay 1" " I went out to visit some patients, meaning to continue my ride as far. asMr. Buckhom's, and took his rifle with me from the gunsmith's with the in• tention of stopping and leaving:it ; but I met with old Jlr. Sil . versight at the cross roads, who was going up from the new settlements, and he offered to take charge of it. I gave it to him. We parted at the fork, and I crossed over to Mr. Wentworth's." " Did Mr. Stlversight continue on his journey, having Jim Buokhotas rifle with him I' asked the Justice. " Yes sir ; but before we separated he gave me this money," handing the notes and specie to.the magistrate, " requesting me to pay It into the land office to day to clear out Mr. Richly's land. He said there were $.500 in all, and was counting it when arrested." " There is a most Unfortunate coincidence•of cumstances against you ) Doctor. The man lit found murdered, the rifle which you were known to have carried lying near him, and you .arrive In town the nett day, with the money of the deceased in your possession. The poor old man's horse go ing home wi:hout his rider excites alarm ; Bock horn and Carlock, with other neighbors, set out up on the track ; they find the murdered victim, stark and bloody, lying on the snow, which was scarce ly whiter than his aged head ; they divide—some bearing the body back, while. the others follow on the trail ; it leads them to Mr. Wentworth's, where you acknowledged you passn the, night; they there inquire what person had made the tracks which they had followed and were answered it was you ; they continua oil their trail until they arrive in town ; they make affidavit of these facts; and procure a warrant for your. arrest, when, to cont plete the chain of evidence, you ara found counting the spoils of the murdered man. Now, sir, what answer eau rim make to these appalling eirrum.• stances ?'' ' 4 They are appalling indeed, sir," said our he. to, " and I can only reply to,them—l am innocent. II the poor man was murdered, the one who did it must certainly have- left tracks; and t fear they have fallen upon his trail and taken it for mine.— Bnt it is in my power to prove that I had no weap ons with me, except that unlucky title, and. the gunsmith will testily that he give mem balls with it,, " The gunsmith has already been before Ape," said Squire Lawton - , 46 for l was loath Icrluje you apprehended, except on an application backed by such'proot as coahl,notte rejected. He states that when he gave you the gun, the locks hail been re- Paired and polished, and that since that time it has certainly been discharged. lam sorry to do it sir, but my duty compels me to eorninit you " It is needless to dwell longer on this examine, Lion. Our hero was committed for irial.;.and so stroug were the proofs adduced against• him, that the worthy magistrate and indeed the whole neigh borhood, could scarce hesitate to believe him guil ty. When the sun arose that morning, Charles Ilivitignin was one of the happiest of men. Lov ing and beloved, his businesi increasing, His name respected, and the time rapidly approaching which was to bind him to Catharine 11/ the tender relatioo ship of marriage, be lookernack ttpou the glorious orb as it burst up through the eastern heaven with an eye of almost kindred brightness. How chang. ed the scene at its setting! Its last rays fell upon him through the iron•guarted window of a prison Yet, could we examine into the soul of that young man as he lay in one of th'e small anti noisome apartments, on a bed of straw that had bees spread fora former inmate, *a should Curd, perhaps, though surrounded by the greatest danger—..the danger of dying an ignominous death, and of having a blot left forever on his memory—he was still serene and happy. And whs was this I He had a compact. ion in that dreary place, whose acquaintance had been sought in the hours of prosperity, and who now, in the darkness of trouble, wouldoot depart— s companion that can cheer us amid the revilings of the world, can pierce through the bars of sedum. peon, and whisper to the desponding spirit, " Bless ed are they that mourn, for they shall be comfort- ma Charles Rivington was one of the too small num ber of young meu who are nut ashamed to be reli gious; " and verily he had his reward." The mere worldling similarly situated, would have been loud in imprecations or dumb in agony ; but he, npborne by conscious innocence, and knowing that not a sparrow lalls to the ground without the will of our Heavenly Fat:ter, humbled himself m prayer before that being who is mighty to save unto the utter most," and he arose from the exercises with those tranquilized and invigorated feelings vs hibh ate its invariable result. Nearly two years had elapsed since our hero em igrated to that western region. He was the young est, and, at the time of our narrative, the only son of a widowed mother, who lied been doomed to fol low successively to the grave, a husband, a lovely daughter, her eldest born, and two fine and healthy boy's. Sick of the •scene Vicar death had made such havoc, and crushed so many fragrant buds of promise, she consented to accompany her sole re rnaining child to a place where the newness of the country seemed to hold forth greater prospect of success, than was afforded to a young practitioner among the overstocked population of a city. Hith erto their expectations had been amply realized.— He who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, pro vided for the wounded heart of the Christian wid ow, a balm of sweetest efficacy. Her son was such a child as mothers pray for; he strove by re doubled filial attentiona to supply the place of the lost ones to his parent: and her eye seldom rested on his manly lorm, that they did not beborne Wa tery, from the overfullness of gratified maternal love. Their family misfortunes had rendered his mind uncommonly ductile ; and it was she who planted there those seeds of righteousness, which, as we have seen, sprang up and brought forth good fruit. On the afternoon of the son's commitment, she was sitting in the parlor of the pleasant little house which they occupied, when Judy, the Irish girl, who had lived long in the family, remaining with them through all their trouble, came running almost breathless, into the apartment. " Oa, Mistress, and ti.e Lord bless you," she cried, as soon as she was able to speak, "and pre sarve your old heart from breaking—but l's got bad news for ye." "How often Judy, must I repeat to ITU" said the pious old lady, interrupting her, " that it is ex tremely wrong to use tho name of your Maker so familiarly on all occasions? "The Lord will not hold him guiltless who taketh his name in vain " Botheration, ma'am, but I's no time to tend to that now— Judy !" interrupted Mrs. Itiviogton again, a how can you• speak so— " Ma'am, will yOll please to hear me," roared out the serva..t, at length fully restored to her voice are you agoing to set here and let them murder Mr:Charles t" " Charles! gsacious providence," ejaculated the mother, catching the alarm of the menial, " what is the matter—surely nothing evil has happened to • Oh nothing at all, at all, olisfriss;" responded Judy, striving to speak calmly, that she might not too suddenly shock- the trembling• parent; 'then, unable to control her leelings, she sobbed but, " my poor dear young master's in prison." " In prison !" esciaime4.the estmislied mother, touting quickly to -4he weping girl and grasp ing her arm, "Judy," said she, with the earnest ness of agonized apprehension, " tell me the whole truth—yeu have seen me bear calamity before..- what does this mean?" " Ah, madam. fist be cpiiet," returned the anx ious servant; a it's only one them drunken hunters what's kilt himself, and the blackguards want's to lay it to poor Mr. Charles, because fig's a Yankee, as they call it, and,-that's jilt the whole of it." • " My boy accused of murder ! my honorable, my. pious boy. Father of mercies!" said the pale and agitated mother, sinking on her knees, "it this withered heart is doomed to receive another wound, if my lastearthly prop is to be torn from me, ott, do thou give me strength to bear this greatest of afflic tions, anti enable cue to say, thy will, not wine be done." She arose with re - Limed commute, and turiling,to her maid, "get my harandshawpoiy," said shat " I tun tiail It to rid Worse i , this is but •.,_ passion cloud ; for tie innoCitit 'and hie inner cence will soon be. siisolf4t. i .:l feared test ha miglittitraick, pr thrown from his bursa, but tit! Lord be praised; tetio bath riot tried his iseriint be yond !lei strength." Such wasihe language of the exemplary Mrs, Rivington ; as she. walked-out that evening,. with the liitentiOn of visiting her eon in piisan. We will not accompany her; theirmeotme .wassuchas will be anticipated from their enlightened and pious characters; and though the good woman was alarm/ ed by the strength „0 the circumstances adduced against her beloved boy, yet not for a moment was her faith in the justice of the Alpighty so shaken, as to permit a feai that the guiltless would softer, But . leaving them mutually suiting to stieng,ileis and encourage each other, ice will ask of our reader to accompany us ibto t h e kitchen of Dr. Riviagton!e house, whither Judy immeJiately returned on limit departure of her mistress. "She's a noble-hearted woman, that's what she is," said the girl, whose admiration was excited by the Christian firmness she had seen exhibited ; 1+ she's jilt the right tort of a thither for each erca:t young gentllman as he ts ; anJ you Jemmy," (turn. Lag to Buckhorn, who sat with a sorrowing coun tenance in a comer r j yere a pretty blackguard, ar'nt ye, to be going to give information tallest a man what you know niter did harm in .bis bout days. Ah! git along frith ;;a-I'm fairly sick of ye. tr "glut, Italy, when we found the •rifle laying by the dead both," answered the distressed young man, ";1 very naturally said to Cartock, that that was the best WA we could have; for 1 know'd old Silvereight had been down in the new settlement, and so, says 1, the man who got this 'ere ride lions Dril'a, mast be the murderer; but if I'd a-knoved It was the Doctor took it out, miss•fire but I'd a•held my peace, if I never could shoot buck again tiff IL told it. I hardly b'lieve he killed the old tellow, now." Now 'pon my bonorye're a great fool," respon ded the indignant Jttdr; " yon hardly b'lieve it, do you? I tell you what, Jimmy Bockhorn, the man as conies a sparking to me, if I set ever so mucks by him, should never get my consent; if he was the means of puttiug the dear young gentleman into limbo, till he contrived ways and means 16 get him clear again. You don't bl'iev6 Arrab now, Jimmy, I've told you afore l's a eon of Liking fur you—but I'd sooner b'lieve you had mutinied the poor old vagabond, in cold blood, than that Mr. Charles did it, if he was ever sq provoked." Budthowrose from his seat when the fluent and handsome lash girl bad finished her speech, and taking her hand, "Judy," said he, 1' any nag is tired down—bot 111-git Bob Millar'a--I'll go down and see the Doctor at the jail. winder, end find Which way he went out the Lead waters—then vu, follow up his trail from town, and see where he Cut off to old Wentwortb'e for its amain he slept there—and it may turn out the trains hail and hi* are two different ones. 11 so be that's the in/th r ill. seep on the scent 'till I flail out who the rail rufran is—and there's no time to be last, for homy come up to snow, and that will .fill•tip the tracks to short crier. Soludy give me your hand, and there,''. continued he, kissing the blushing girls lips, " there. I'll and out who the scamp is, or, in case that's impossible, if Doctor klvington -does'nt gin clear it shall be his own fault." • • • .• A heavy fall of snow did unfortunately occur that. night, leaving the prairies as white and smooth as unwritten paper, and conseqnently deprived our eilumianal hero of the most obvious, and apparent• ly)of every mode of substantiating his annocence. His confidence however, in the Divine protection was undiminished, and nightly from the silence of his cell, went up the inaudible aspirations ,of Raoul. that firmly relied un the goodness and justice of its prayer hea i g Father. Nor did those pious ens:. ons ascend unrccompanied through the still vault of night to the Almighty's ear. The aged mother', e3ntrite head was poured out in an agony of prayer, the parems of his affianced bride kn&t of en before. the throne of Heaven for the welters of their slam. dared boy, as in their affection they called him, and the blue eyes of Catharine wept tears of sup-, plications and her pure and innocent heart, hitherto untouched by sorrow, except on the axe- i in of her sister's death, now con i malty sent unworded ask unutterable appeals to her Creator for her lover's life. In the meanwhile week after week rolled by and the day appointed for trial 'et leught anived. Cab CLODS.D !VEST crEgz. (jam Tan philosophy, says Plato, consists more in fidelity, constancy, justice, sineesiit, and in WO love of our duty, than a great capacity. tn.- He WIIO has forfeited his good faith hasnoth. ing else to, lose. All the other posses ions of this world are cOrnparatively of little value when weigh ed against oar integrity and honor. 'Kr Irmo are the earn of horns., Vaiq ,is it at wide intervals to say, "I'll save this year," if at each narrow interval you do not say, "I'll save this hour." Or THAT Slate of life is MOM happy, wherein, superfigiiies. aro not required, and necessaries at Pot minting 0:!r Tile triumlihe ofituth are the most glorious, chiefly because,they are the most bloodless of all . viLturies, deriving tlkelc highest lustre from the num ber of saved, not of the slam. (:*"' REM, fidelisy may be rare, but it axial" in (lie heart. rimy only deny its worth and power who nespr loved a blend, or labored to make a Lista! happy. Do good to your Iliends, to keep tbem —to . 704 4 twenties, to gain them ! , . MEE BEI Mr EIZINMIZEB - :11.194 -• i & . El