DC DOLLAR PER ANN'JM, INVARIABLY IN AOVANtt. TOAVANDA : Satnrban fUoriunn, 19, 1839. £cltdti> |}otlni. THE DEPARTED. h rot* of snowy musliu. L:eth -he s the hard unyielding cheek. L.t h-a weep, for tears f.vat falling Wiii iffoni a --weet relief, Tbfv've a mighty power of light'ning rhe heart's full w eight of grief. C rr.e'.h now in all her loneness, she who bore a mother's part ; >\ sr may know the grief and anguish t>: her oversow ing heart. -he h.th nurtured her from childhood, ■. ud hath loved her all too well; he: her weep—for tears fast falling, lose the Svsom's bursting swell. iibb gather round the children, bet them took upon her now ; ia mercy let them linger, : ga that placid brow. 0: - k upon the casket, Th V the soul it shrined is fled ; 7 . nd and loving sister, is numbered with the dead. ; i-: e:'"J her childhood's dwelling •a r h -he ce'er may enter more ; " . -wn the little pathway. . her Levt hare trod of yore. F._:. : - i.rih. oh I very gently, 7. -he is tut lifeless clay ; wlatc -Lc'li sleep ia qniet 7 r. - rrcction da v. §fle ft 1 b fair. [7: T ~e Cdiatwrr Journal.] 1:1 T T Y ; OR. THE BLIND HARPIST. > " h i very long tiuse ago—tut whoa railways, when stcam-navigutiou ey. and the electric telegraph not >. ■ i o:'—a journey to Cornwall was a: • table '.sndertakiog ; while the na : • ts cf that county regarded the " ; ir: . f the inland population ui ■ ' ■ giers. Fluctuations, bower ' -rite t ..a. ia mining concerns, as k-.owr. to be in these adventurous wcrv made. and fortunes .re . w:.en the latter r.-verse befell Mr. ■ a great mining speculator, attended y distressing circumstances, he had .tth av.tni to lea: up a-.a'tist catani speedily sank beneath the blow, leav • - e orphan children totally destitute.— : .. yea;: ja>l .. .. at to leave • ■ -*• the ihflatnee of ■ - : 8 1'f* at .2 a mercantile house t r ne at once repaired. His vO - .. ttretl particularly in lack's i r*. ition, respectably set • tT red to receive tlie poor ' tin n us nui - n • hi ;t family, providing a si ai t the other. I: was a sad part t . brother and s.ster : for In- I a - ... i a vast deal further off than I •f. ). and faint were the hopes they ■ ' : o 'meeting again in this world.— : esc three never did meet again; I V.-. : e ■ dest of the two girls, in pro * became tlie wifeof a thriving Lon •t. ~u i died hile their only dangh '■ -c.vM Ethel Trailer. Harry's r also became a wife ; but . a leasetl her relation, u Ito firo " to- : ve comsctiou, that .-o pretty yfi -. t have done far better Mary i| ' - I'.r -> as she ought to be called— ■ .; i in t i:e displeasure occasioned tr ;1 choice : and not only I in forgiveness in her own ■t i the same feelings into the p sband. and even tanght her I k i an on "the Mordaunts.'*— x U irry were few aud far between: |i ringr; though fortunes iu ■ ** •. 1 re not made so quickly as '|H wore in their own dear native Jfirs Mr Mordaunt. Ethel's hus ' ' I : s talents to account by B by dint of utc B * : support his delicate and Trl o ■ •' if cot ia affluence. Ethel B r* usbatui one child, a fair Ti after herself, whose sweet - • • - tlon endeared her to both B. •ad made amends to her rao- B ... of a sister's countenance and '• ep election. however, Mrs. ~ -h-'i'ublicpriatstheaanounoe • v .-giving sister's decease ; she ■ motherless girl, her niece || : ' to her bosom. But so de- B -e rt of Mr. Dan vers. H v : seif-respect would not ■ " ' family to approach the rich M ■- Iborm reigned supreme t i ch : ki of luxury and iudui- B . a*r.air*r,t. and onfeeltitg. bet Bi j h :n person and agreeable ia " ■1: et even kuow where the Ht> . e found—she made it a Bt . . r ~ to cut ail suchdisfracefai B-t " tuore particoiariy as they H B- ; f Mrs Danvers, Hairy had B ,f. ong 'iioess might account B a-incss, or ike inertness oe- I . c state ; or. it might be. that THE BRADFORD REPORTER. with, absence caused forget fulness, and he did uot care to see the handwriting of the new generation. Hence the name of "Uncle Har ry" was seldom mentioued, either by the dash ing Miss Danvers, or by the quiet pale girl, Etty Mordannt, whose young life was passed in tending her now afflicted mother. Ere mid dle age bad dimmed the lustre of her eyes, or changed a single dark hair to white, poor Mrs. Mordaunt lost the use of her limbs through paralysis, and Etty saw the sunshine of this world through the haze of a sick room. Yet had they much to be thankful for ; and a con tented, happy family they were. They rented the upper part of a small house in a genteel street ; ami Mr. Mordauut's pupils were prin cipally iu the vicinity, with the exception of some schools in the suburbs. His emolument was ccrtaiu and regular ; and although he had frequently complained of a singular weakness in bis eyes, attended by some pain, uo serious apprehension of danger had disturbed the draw ing-master's sereuity of mind. All his leisure time was devoted to the improvement of Etty's docile mind ; she learned everything readily, save drawing—that she could not manage ; and her father, half in jest, half in earnest, shook his head, and called it a "deficiency of intellect," and Etty herself, the gentlest and most humble-minded of human beings, lament ed this ' deficiency,' because it vexed her dear father. But, as if to make amends for the want she deplored, nature had gifted Etty with a remarkable fine voice—thriiling, rich, melan choly. A harp, which was her jjoor mother's only relic of better days, stood iu one cojner of their sitting room ; and not only had Etty learned to accompany her voice on this old harp very respectably, but Mr. Mordaunt also was a performer, and what with his brilliant touch and Etty's sweet warbling, these hum ble family coucerts were quite delightful. Mr. Mordaunt had never hitherto consented to receive pupils at his own home, not liking this infringement of domestic privacy ; but on the urgent solicitation of a former pupil, who had materially benefitted by his instructions, Mr. Mordaunt waved his objection, and gave a few lessous, always in the evening, to a young man whose peculiar circumstances prevented the reception of a master in his father's dwell ing. This youth was the second son of Mr. Rutherford, the senior portner of Mr. Danvers. Mr. Rutherford was not only a keen man of business, but so miserly in his habits and pur suits, that although he had but two motherless sor.s. and had already amassed an immense fortune, he grudgtd them all participation iu the pleasures and luxuries of life, and kept them chained to the desk fiom morning till night.— This kind of plodding existence suited well with the disposition and habits of the eldest brother, who resembled his father in all rcspeets ; but Herbert the younger brother, was of a higher character, and although a dutiful son, aud tol erably steady and iudustrions, he felt bitterly the want of a happy home. At the house of Mr. Danvers. their father's partner, both young men always fouud a cor dial welcome ; indeed, it was the first wish of Mr. Da over's heart to see his only daughter united to John Rutherford, whose talent for business and money-making rendered hiai so very desirable as a partner for life. John had no objection to the young lady ; she was much the same to him a< young ladies iu general ; and he thought it would be a good plan thus to cement the union of the firm of Rutherford, Danvers A Co. Laura Danvers. however, had a strong wiil of lur own ; and although she would willingly have changed her name to Rutherford, it was not as ' Mrs John.' but as ' Mrs. Herbert.'— But although Herbert Rutherford bestowed the full meed of admiration on tiie beautiful Laura, as gallantry demanded, his heart con tinued untouched, aud his fancy uncaptivated. There was a run of deep feeling and romance iu Herbert's nature, concealed beneath a re served exterior, which required to be aroused by a far different nature tbaa that of Laura Danvers. Since he had left school, his taste for drawing had been uncultivated ; but on seeing the progress made by his friend under Mr Mordaunt's auspices, the slumbering taste revived, and Herbert succeeded in jcrsuading Mr Mordaunt to graut him a small portion of time, snatched from the hours of domestic leisure. Mr. Rutherford, symjotfhiziag in no intellectual culture or accomplish west, would have scouted the idea of a drawing-master for • the grown-np-bov Master Herbert,' and cer tainly would hare grudged the cost ef lessons. Hence the permission given to Herbert by Mr. Mordaunt, of a weekly visit to his private re treat. where the presence of his wife and daugh ter was no hindrance to study, their .-ik-nce, while Etty pursued her occupation of needle work. remaining on these occasions unbroken. After the first slight introduction. Herbert in stinctively felt that no approach to a more fa miliar footing would be permitted by Mr. Mor daunt or the ladies ; his presence was a check to social intercourse ; Etty demurely composed herself to fulfil an appointed task, like a girl in school hours ; and Mrs. Mordauut was ab sorbed with a book. Nevertheless, Etty soon ascertained that the young stranger was good liking. ami had a very agreeable voice when addressing her father : nay, she learned the color of his eyes, and thought them the must peuerating and expressive dark eyes in the world. Herbert also, though busied from the moment of his entrance with the single purpose for which he was there, yet found opportunity to remark the graceful outline ef the ta'l slight form, ever bending over needle-work ; apd to detect the fact, that Ettcs eyes were of the softest, loveliest violet color, shaded by silken fringes ; and nka: in Etty's long golden ring let- a kind of sunshine seemed to It ager, though little of sunshine ercr penetrated the dose at mosphere she inhaled. Herbert, being a quick observer, remarked also the old harp ia the corner, and the flowers tastefully disposed iu baskets ; he saw. too, bow often Mrs. Mor daunt's glance was earnestly and anxiously fir ed ou her daughter, when she seemed to be engaged with the page open before her. These drawing lessons had eoutkiaed with out interraptiou for some weeks, and Herbert ' frequently looked iu s* M" Piter's but PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH. out mentioning the progress he was making in art—and of course the name of Mordaunt was never mentioned there—when the drawing-mas ter's increased weakness of sight obliged him to give up several of his pupils, Herbert atnoug the number. Vainly the youug man strove to find some pretext for continuing hia visits at more distaut intervals ; all his friendly over tures were received so coldly by Mr. Mordaunt, who was a proud man in his way, that Her bert dared not persist, fearing to wound the feeling he so much respected. He thought of the sick mother, aud the sweet devoted Etty, both dependent ou one whose affliction ♦gilt eventually incapacitate hira from working to support those dear aud feeble beings. But Herbert was a stranger, and Mr. Mordaunt was not a man to encourage or foster the svm pathy ol whose outward expression only he felt sure. It seemed, indeed, as if fate was adverse to Herbert's wish to be ou more friendly or inti mate terms with his former master ; for after an interval of time had elapsed, which to the young mau appeared considerable, on calling at the dooroue day to iuquire after the health of the family, he found they had removed,and no one could afford him the slightest clue to their present whereabouts. " I'm a feared," said the fat lady, " that the poer gen'iam will get iuto great distress, tho' he owed me nothiug, and always paid me reg'- lar as clockwork. But he was too honest to stay where he couldn't see his way clear, poor gen'iam ; and I don't much thiuk he'll see his way clear for long, anyhow ; for his eves fail ed him utterly afore he went; and that failure of his blessed eyes was the cause of his leaving these elegant apartments, because he were obleeged to give up his poopils. And I don't know what they will do, that I don't ; for Missis Mordaunt was helpless, aud Miss Etty just like one of these lilies she were so fond of nursing—easily broke down, I should say, by au angry wind. Howsumever, I'm very sorry for them ; but we've all troubles of our ewu, aud I've mv share, too, sir, though you haven't seen so maay years by half as I have. Herbert sighed as he turned away from the quiet street, after making several fruitless in quiries concerniug the object of his interest.— Sight failed, and pupilsgiven up !—what would become of them ? Where had the poor family gone to hide their distress from the gaze of the world? That sweet, gentle, loving young girl— that pale, sinking mother—the silent, uncom plaining father and husband, whose every glance towards those dependent creatures be spoke deep affection and tenderness ? Oh, it was dcplorabie ; and Herbert determined to persevere in his search, and to assist them as far as he was able, for Mr. Mordauut must permit Mm to be a friend now. But the former pupils, of whom Herbert knew sufficient to hazard inquiries, could give him no intelli gence of Mr. Mordannt's movements ; they on ly knew his loss of sight bad deprived them of aa able master; and thev coaccrued themselves no more about the matter, except by saying that it was a heavy calamity to befall so good and industrious a man For many months, Herbert Rutherford had visited at the house of Mr. Danvers more rarely than of yore: Miss Danvers smilingly upbraid ing him for his absence, but welcoming him charmingly when he came. Her father had heard from Uncle Harry, who had returned to England with au enormous fortune, and who was coming to visit them, after the chagrin and disappointment be had experienced in Corn wall, from fiuding all his friends and relations dis persed or dead. " I understood or imagined," said Herbert, " that you were Mr. Trailer's only near living relative. Miss Danvers V Miss Danvers blushed scarlet at this simple remark, so innocently made by the speaker,and replied in some confusion : " Oh, I believe we have relatious who come from Cornwall ; but I suppose they are dead or abroad, as we know nothing of them But I've always heard Uncle Harry was a true Cornishman in his Kval at tachments ; but I hope we may succeed in re conciling him to remain among us, poor lonely o!d man I" " JVer lonely old man !" thought Herbert, with a -d smil# ; " riih lonely old man, or he would not Ik: welcome here 1" John Rutherford's attentions to the Uanti fal Miss Dauvers had become more marked and assiduous since Uncle Harry's arrival in his native land. Miss Dancers was the nabob"* uearest. cay. probably, his only living known relative, and it was high time to secure the hand of his niece. Bat John was prudent.and liked to feel his way, until the time seemed rije for the experiment ; so he contented him self by paying hiss devoirs attentively to the la dy of his lore, and by redoubled enemy and perseverance in business, to win the favor and approval of Mr. Panver? Herbert, on the contrary, had been absent and indolent of late —careless about ledgers and incorrect in cal culations of importance. The image of the yoosg sweet girl and her suffering mother ab solutely haunted him ; what could have become of them whea the bread-winner was struck down ? Etty's peusire loveliness had made, indeed, a deep and lasting impression on the young man's fancy : and those evenings de votion to the drawing-lessons—although no words were spoken between them—were re called as the most cherished memories of his heart. Uncle Harry was received by Mr. Danvers ami Laura with the empress-meet due to a ba chelor Indian relative with lace of rupees at his disposal : but Uacie Harry was fidgety and ill at ease, and almost his first question was about poor Ethel. He had been to their na tive place place in the hope of finding her ; and he cocld scarcely believe it possible that Mr. Danvers and Laura knew not where she was. Tbey spoke of disgrace and vexation, and hinted* their certainty that Mrs. Marxians! mast be dead ; or DO doubt, if otherwise, they would have been applied to long ago. Poor relations who had behaved shamefully always found out rich ones, and never ceased pestering theiu with begcing-letters ** I think rem mar rest satisfied. Unek Har -Ir* ~ ia'i Mi-i Panrer- " that c*y "'e UKwVt"- " REGARDLESS OP DENUNCIATION FRO* ANT QUARTER." sister is no more ; for, depend upon it, if she had left children, or had herself lived (for of course they were poor,) we should have heard from them quickly enough." But Uncle Harry did not rest satisfied even with this lucid explanation giveu by his beauti ful uiece ; and, moreover, the sallow but heal thy nabob quietly informed Mr. DaitTers, that he thought it would be as well to insert an ad vertisement iu a leading paper, iu order to dis cover poor Ethel, either dead or alive. It was monstrous, suggested Mr. Danvers, absolutely monstrous, to make the thing so public ; but remonstrance was vaiu, for Uncle Ilarrv was obstinate, and might not be offended with im punity ; so the utmost Mr. Danvers or Laura could effect, was to persuade him to wait for a few days, when, mcautime, private inquiries should be set on foot. Mr. Trailer was iu a hurry to return to Cora wall ; he had determined on purchasing an es tate there, and settling down for the remain der of his days. He detested London, and seemed quite proof against all the blandish ments lavished on hiin by the beautiful Laura. He did not say how unnatural he thought them nil, for deserting poor Ethel, but he looked and acted it ; and Miss Dauvcrs could scarcely con ceal her spite and indignation—her only hope being in the belief that Mrs. Mordaunt had really passed away from the face of the earth. But, worse than all, this tiresome, fidgety Un cle Harry had spoken of the poor Mordauuts before Herbert ; and Herbert had started aud blnshed, and seemed so confused and interest ed in the subject, that Miss Dauvcrs attribu ted the start to surprise—for she well remem bered having led Herbert to suppose that no very near relations existed to share Mr. Tra iler's affections or money. Yet Miss Dan vers well knew that Herbert Rutherford was no mercenary, and cared little for wealth or its allurements ; and she was puzzled as to what the stcpng interest was attributable which Her bert displayed concerning these " odious peo ple."' Mr. Traher seemed more pleased with the youug man than with any one or anything in Mr. Danver's house ; and the avowal which Herbert made to him. as they were walking out together, of his own acquaiutance with the Mordauuts, more closely eemeuted the bond ol union between them. Herbert dwelt on Mr. Mordaunt's excellent qualities and industry ; he spoke of Mrs. Mordaunt ; and the tears stood in Uucle Harry's eyes as he murmured : " Boor Ethel, poor thing !" But when Her bert attempted to describe the fair girl, who had been as a bright angel in that humble room, then the youth broke down in confusion; and Mr. Traher, with a long piercing look at his companion, exclaimed " Humph I" How ever, both gentlemen agreed that no time ought to be lost, and that other means failing, the advertisement should be inserted forthwith ; " for they must be in destitution," sighed Her bert, •' for I know they depend entirely on Mr. Mordaunt's exertions for support. God grant we may soon find them !" Oa the evening of that very day. the 'anal ly party—namely, Mr. I>anvers, Laura, Un cle Harry, and John Rutherford, who had joined them at dinner—were assembled in the drawing-room, at Mr. Danvers, and it being early summer and warm weather, the balcony windows wen- C|en, while the sweet scented flowers outside shaded the interior from ob servation. The room was brilliantly lit with wax-tapers, and the soft moonlight streamed down on the dowering shrubs and exotics, and on the broad airy street which led into a mag nificant square. John Rutherford was just a?kimr Miss 1 tanvers to favor them with some music, which John cared for no more than he did tor the Paradise Lost, when frum the street beneath arose a strain of song, preluded by a few simple chords ou the harp, which ar rested the attention of Uncle Harry, who ex claimed " Hush ! what a thrilling voice ?"and with finger upraised and quiet steps, he crept towards the balcony, from whence, however, he could not obtain a view of the performers, on account of the leafy screen which interven ed. Miss Daavers followed him and she also stood entranced, for the wanderiug minstrels wore of no common order—that was clear from tlie masterly harp accompaniment, and the simple pathos, clear and brilliant, of the young voice which rose on the evening air, 31.d entered that luxurious apartment wafted with the odors of the flowers. The song end ed. Uncle Harry took his purse to reward itinerants, when John Rutherford remarked, that •" these kind >f people must realize a vast deal of money in the streets ; and. fur kis part. he considered it wn- giving encouragement to vagrants to give t.km anything"—Or to true anybody anything." gruffly muttered Uncle Harry, crushing in among the Sower -lands, in the tain hope of reaching the balustrade, and throwing a handful of silver to the poor wanderers below. But ere he could manage to do this, another ha.-j-prelude. of a wild and mournful character, hashed them all into si lence ; and as the voice again swelled into the full burst of song, he trembled : and so un controllably agitated did he become as the song proceeded, that Mr. Daavers, fearing he was ill, asked what was the matter in a toae of great alarm. •• Hush T said Mr Trmher—hash !* and o peremptorily was the word repeated, that Mr. Pan vers retreated, looking somewhat offended. His visitor, however, was far too engrossed to remark this ; ami when the sweet voice ceas rd. and the harp music died away. Uncle Har ry exclaimed, in a voice choked by emotion : " •* I haven't heard that song since I was a boy. It is a Cornish ballad, which poor Eth el used to warble . aad I most go tiowa tod give these people something for the painful pleasure they have afforded me. But, hark ! they begin again " And after a brief space, I"ucie Harry cried, in a state of the utmost excitement: ' This is st rauge I—another old air which I'm sure only Cornishers can know. It was our mother's favorite. I must see who these poor folks are." Miss Daavers followed the impatient nabob down stairs, aad placing her hood on his arm, said " Yea must not go out, dear ancle ; you •nay take cold in the evwng ar will bit- 'V harp and im 'he and turning to a domestic, she gave the order. The gorgeously liveried servant soon return ed followed by two persons—one, a man, bear ing an old harp, who was led by his compan ion, a female, whose faca was not distinguish able, from the slouched bonnet which over shadowed it. The mau was blind, middle ag ed, bat prematurely care worn, and with sil vered hair ; yet there was a resignation and touching benevolence in his countenance, and a demeanor which so plainly bespoke the gen tleman, despite his shabby attire, that Uncle Harry felt quite abashed in addressing him, and turned to the muffled female in an apolo getical manner when he tendered the silver coins. But Miss Danvers had uo uch delica cy ; and she addressed the singer saying : " Thi3 gentleman wishes to hear the songs re peated—the two last. They are Cornisli mel odies, he thinks ; and he wishes to know where you learned them." There was a silence, which was broken by the harpist whispering to his companion— " You may tell where you learned them, my dear." The timid form beside the blind man seem ed to shrink nearer to his side, as she said, in a low, almost inaudible voice—"They are Cor nish airs, ma'am, and I learned them from my mother." "Is your mother Cornish, then V bluntly asked Mr. Traher, as he vainly essayed togain a l>eci of the face hidden beneath the slouch ed bonnet. " Yes, sir," murmured the sweet voice again ; and again there was a silence. " I'm a native of Cornwall myself," at last blotted out Unele Harry ; " and one of those songs you sang so beautifully was a favorite of my mother's ; and it's an odd coincidence.— Be so kind as to siug it again." The voice and the harp were more enchanting in the hall than in the open air, and Mr. Tra her almost sobbed with emotion a3 he listened. " Thank you, thank, my good frieuds !" he exclaimed, j>rossiug to the blind luan's side, and placing in his hand a glittering coin : " you mnst come here again before I go, for this is a treat indeed. I haven't heard that song for so many, many years. I'oor Ethel !" he sighed, half speaking to himself: but the words had reached the ears of the strangers, and they caused the old man to move forward involuntarily a step or two, as if listening to hear more. But Mr. Traher was far away with memories of the past ; and the harpist feariug to intrude, made a low bow, and utter ed tbauks—thanks o impressive, and so un like a common itinerant, that Miss Dar.vers felt convinced he was not what he appeared. " Come, Ethel, my love !" said the blind man, as he took the female's hand, advancing to the hall-door, the liveried lackey condescen ding to carry out the old harp. " Ethel !" cried Uncle Hariy, placing hun self before the retreating pair—" are yen Eth el, too ? And pray, what's your other name, aud are you this worthy blind gentleman's wife or daughter V The female was silent, and evidently alarm ed by this abrupt address, keeping tight hold of her companion's hand. Again the bfiud man spoke. "Thb is my dear imd only child, sir," he said ; " and I do not know why we should be ashamed of men tioning our names to one wh has so bounti fully rewarded our humble efforts. My name, sir, is Mordaunt ; and my daughter is called Ethel, after her dear mother." " 0 merciful I'rovidence !" cried Mr. Tra her ; " and is her mother living T " Yes, sir," rather coldly replied the har pist. still retreating towards the door, aud not understanding this unusual interest evinced by a stranger. " Poor Ethel! poor Ethel !" sobbed Uncle Harry, no* quite unmanned, and. without ceremony, clasping the astonished harpist's hand, and arresting Lis progress. "IHd yon never hear her speak of Harry—her brother Harry ? I'm he. Mordaunt ! and I was go ing to advertise fur yuu to-morrow ; and new let me look at my niece ar.d he pulled away the slouched bonnet, and a shower of goideu ringlets fell down the pale girl's shoulders ; and Uncie Harry clasped her in Lis arms, cry ing : " "Tis poor Ethel herself ; why is sLe not here P " Here V said Mr. Murdaunt. "Alts!— she is alive tn us but dead to the world.'"— And then, in a few words, draw-rig the blind man aside. Mr. Traher heard the lamentable tale of distress unfolded. Miss D.mvtrs had vanished : she would cot stay to witness so terrible a before the servants. A wandering bcllad-siager her cousin 1 Oh, it was disgusting—it was sot to be endured. Unde Harry found j-resemly that i! was time for him to thick of a home elsewhere ; aad all his arrangements were zealously by Herbert Rutherford. So. bidding farewell to Mr. Paavers and I.aara, he soon returned to his beloved native country, accompanied by the poor McrdaunU : nor was the oM harp left behind. Their troubles were over—so they declared, with deeply grateful hearts.— It is true, one was strkken with paralysis, aod cne was blind ; bat what of that ? in their utmost desolation, God had heard their prayer*, nor '.eft tbeai to perish. Mr. Tmher casually meatowed to old Ruth erford his intention to give his niece K*ty a handsome portion, provided she rttarried to please h n ; ami when Herbert -ismsfied bis desire to run down into Cornwall to visit Mr. Traher. woo had given him a hearty invita tion, Mr. Rutherford offered DO objection to the plan. , It was sometime pre Etij could be induced to leave her dear jwreMs. even to Uncle Har ry's tender care ; but oa Herbert's promise of a long annual sppxn with them, he at length succeeded in carrying off his fair bride. The young couple resided near the metropolis ; bat " Mrs. John Rutherford'" never would con sent to call oa Mrs. Herbert Rutherford" nor to own the relationship between them ; for soon after Herbert's marriage with Ethel Mordust, Miss Dancers became the wife of Jobs, bar constant twain Bat as ilw afiana f'cs tot dtstorb "he e'en teocr cf 'he ?cir- VOL. XVI. —XO. 45. ishing business system pursued by Rather - ford, Ranters aud Rutherford, nor ruffle the equanimity of Herbert and Etty, no ou thought it worth while to remonstrate with the proud and silly dame. Uoclc Harry and the blind man lived ami cably together, long after poor Ethel had gone peacefully down to the grave. The old harp is preserved as a precious relic by Herbert's children ; and he always declares the most fortunate day of his life to be that on which he commenced the memorable drawing lessons. TUK EonvsroNE LIOHT HOCSE.— The care of this iiD{>ortant beacon is committed to four men ; two of them take charge of it by torus, aud are relieved every six weeks. But as it often happens, especially in stormy weather, that boats cannot touch at the Eddystoae for many months, a proper quality of salt provi sions is always laid up, as in a ship for a long voyage. In high winds 3ueh a briny atmos phere surrounds this gloomy solitude from the dashing of waves, that a man exposed to it could not draw his breath. At these dread ful intervals the two forlorn inhabitants keep close quarters, and are obliged to live in dark ness and stendi, listening to the howling storm, excluded in every emergency from the least hope of assistance, and without any earth ly company bat what is administered from the confidence in the strength of the building iu which they are immured. Once, on reliev ing tbig forlorn guard, one of the men was fonud dead, his companion choosing rather to •hut himself up with a putrifying carcass, than, by throwing it into the sea to iucur the suspi cion of murder. In fine weather these wretched beings scram ble a little about the rocks when the tide ebbs, and amuse themselves by fibbing, which is the only employment they can have, except that of trimming their nightly fires. Such total inactions, anl entire seclusion from all the joys and aids of society, can only be endured by great religious philosophy, which we cannot imagine they feel ; or by great stupidity, which in pity we must suppose they ]K>ssess. Yet this wretched communication is to small, we are assured it has sometimes been a scene of misanthropy. Instead of suffering the recol lection of these distresses and dangers in which each is deserted by all but one, to endear that one to him, we are informed the humors of each were so soured they preyed both on them selves and on each other. If one sat above, the other wa* commonly found below. Their meals, too, were solitary ; each, like a brute, growling ov-r his food alone. The emolument of this arduous post is twenty pounds a year, and provision while on duty. The house to live in may be fairly thrown into the bargain. The whole together is, perhaps, one of the least eligible places of preferment in Britain. ASECOCT* or FRAVKMK —On one occasion while I>r. Franklin was in the Legislature of Pennsylvania, he was busily engaged ia some matter ju>t as the ehaplaiu was about to pray. preacher waited for the doetor to cease his attention to the object of his pur-uit and attend to h'm, but finally the preacher spoke and said. " If the Hon. Philosopher will giro his attention wo will pray." Franklin, with out raising his head replied, " Pray array f* DERIVATION *F THE WVTD Bcv-raut —ln the olden time, fires usr-d to he made ia the streets of cities and towns on festive occasions,around which tables were set out with sweet-bread and good drink. Generally these occ&sons were seized upon to reconcile difference among neighbors, who were brought to sit together at these table* in amity, where before there hud beca controversy ; and Leace these fires were called gc*xi fir-.s. or boa-fires, on account of the good accomplished at tLeaa. HOWE :T SCT FANCIFUL.—I W&R.dered into de depths of de forest, say? Sambo, and La tare wis a* beautiful as a lady gwine to do widdm. l)c lea# glistened on de maple tree, like new quarter dollars in de missionary box. de sua ihined as brilliant and nature looked so gay as n bock rabbit in a parsh y tranien, and do little bell round de oic sheep's neck tinkle softlv In Je distance. THE BEST Jcoor.— A Judge and A lawyer were conTersn; about the doctrine of trans , migration of the *onls of men into animals. •' Now,** said the Judge. *' suppose you and I were turned into a bone and an as*, which would you prefer to be V * The ass, to lie sure." replied the lawyer. *' Why ?** asked the Judge, j " Because," the reply " I hare heari I of an ass Utmg Joig, but of a horse never." tsf An old gentleman once said, ia speak ing of the bad consequences of d=*parity of fortune—especially on the wife's side in mar riage. that when he married, he had twenty cents, and his wife twenty five—and that eh® was throwing oat that extra five cents to hits, trcr afterwards. THE BEST WlT.— Jt%*y —Well, Annie, he* did yoo get aloag with that stupid foo! of a loier of \-wirs? Did you succeed ia getting rid of him ? Aanir—Oh, yes! I got rid of him very easily. I married him. aid have to lover now. 'Spoken in a modest manner., haf* A person aked his phyocan if tobac co was injurious te the brain. " No." repEed be, " for no person who has any brains use it. A correspondent, in raent.o . rg the wreck of a vessel, rejoices that " all the crew were saved except Una hogsheads o: tobacco. * " Among other blessing* *" said Dr. Franklin. ** a man should thank God for h:s vanity. becaase it makes him fees happy." !Ufa a fy> fhort to spend h 2+l