M E MUM PHR ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. TOWANDA: nonday Morntos, February 6, 1862. itlttiA lbf. THE PICKET GUARD. .. All quiet along the Potomac." they atj, •• Except, now and then,a tra> pu b Bv i rifleman hid in the thicket. *Ti nothing— private or two, then, Will not connt in the new? o. • • , . . />nlv one of the men jll quiet alonjrthe Potomac to-night. Where the wldiers lie peacefully dreaming : The tents, in therav* of the clear autumn moon. Or the licht of the watch tires are g'earum*. A tremulous sign, as the ,-eutie night wind Trough the forest leaves softly is creeping ; Whi e -tars up above, with their glittering e yes, Keep guard—for the army is sleeping. There's only the sound of the lone seutr.v's tread. he tramps from the rock to the fountain, And think of the two in the lone trundle bed, Far away iu the cot on the mountain. Hi- mu-ket falls slack -his face, dark aud grim, Giows geutle with memories leader, A? he mutters a prayer for the children asleep— For their mother—may Heaven defend her ! The moon seems to shine just as bright, y as then, That night, when the Iwe. yet unspoken Leaped up to his lips-when low murmured vows Were pledged to be ever unbroken. Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes, lie dashes ofT tears that are welling. And fathers his gun close op to its place, As if to keep down the heart-swelling. He passed the fountain, the blasted pine tree, The f - tsteps is lagging and weary ; Yet onward he p>es. through the broad belt of light. Towards the shades vf the forest so dreary. Hark ! was it the night wind that rustled the leaves ? Was it moonlight so wondMU-Iy flashing ? It I -eked like a ride—" Hi ! Mary, go,, J bye •* And the liie blood is ebbing aud plishing. AHtjoiet aloer the Potorc.se to-night. No s. ;i:id save the of the rivet : Whiitioft fall- the dew on the face of the dead— The picket's oT duty forever 1 ■t - Stlttltk Cult. (Frcra the Cornbill Magazine.) TO ESTHER. The first t : me that I ever kiKw yon, sr,s at Rimeoi.e Winter's evening I had walked through the siient streets —I see them now— | bark with blink shadows, lighted by the biuz ir.g stars overhead and by the lamps dimly flickering before the shrines at street corners. After crossing .he Spanish-; ace I r member turning into a narrow allcv and coining pres ently to a great black archway, which hd to a glimmering court. A figure of the Y .rgiu Mood with outstretched urtns above the door of your bouse, aud the light burning at her feet dimly played npon the stone, worn and stained, of which the walls were bull Thnagh the archway came a giiuq of lite right skv above the court yard, shining won tkrfully with splendids.ars ; a>.d I a -oc.iugut ike [4a shine eonnd of a fountain fl wii-g :n the d*rkue>? I groped my way op the broad stone s'.i'.rcxse, only lighted by the friendly star si •„<, enabling and knocking my -bins against those Ancient steps, up which two centuries of v i w nnen had clambered ; and, at 1 .st, r g ;:g st a curtail.door, I found myself iu sa i, a d presently nShered through a d i.i* g r.OE where the cloth was laid,arid announced k tiie i-awi.. room door as Sa.itii. It was a long room with many windows,and ■st.aeis and tables along the wall, with a tail arvtd mant I piece, a; which you were stand sg. and a Pompeian amp burning on a table tod. Would you care toh-ar what tnau *rof woman I saw ; what impression I got t". you as we met for the first time together ? j •i after days, light, mood, circumstance, may • ■•city this first image more or less, ba: the w® of i.fe is in it—the identical presence— I fancy it is rarely improved by keeping, "J ptict.ng np, with love, or dislike, or long * weariness, as the case may be Be this b it say. I think I knew you as well after the , ' minutes'acquaintance as Ido now.— - sis xa woman, whose looks I liked [ ; thick brows, sallow fa r. a taii and > sgure, honest eyes that had no twrt taUr uirr.t besides, dark hair.and a pleas <33;j e And somehow, as I looked *• tea and heard you talk, 1 seemed to be °>'* frank spirit, uncertain, blind, way- j tender, under this somewhat stern ei •* so, I repeat, I liked you, and mak- j 1 I said 1 was afraid I was before •J time. j 1 ® i:ra m J father who is after his," Jt-ja . •• >i r Halbert is corning, and he, , kC 3 0 "en ate and so we went on taikiug ••• tea minutes. 1 :s a kindly manner, and a sad-toned _-- - w Lot if your life has been a hap j7 : ton are well disposed toward every tv • ; ' Q c>ae acrote ° f 00r To,< *- yon must aitriievi from your mot her, if thiegs -*a taheritanee. As for the Colonel, your • *• I uptake not, he is a liuk, ?nr.veied THE BRADFORD REPORTER. up, old gentleman, with a machiue iuside to keep him goinsr, and outside a weil-cut coat and a air, aud knowledge of the world, to get on through life with. Not a very large capital to go upon. However, this is not the way to speak to a young lady about her father ; and, besides, it is you, aud not he, in whom i take ike interest that prompts these maudlin pages. Mr. Halbert and little Latham, the artist, were the only other guests. You did not look round when Halbert was announced, but went on speakiug to Latham, with a strange flush in your face ; until Halbert had, with great empressement, made his way through the chairs and tables, aud had greeted, rather than been greeted by you, as 1 and Latham were. So thii.ks I to myself, concerning certain vague uotious I had begau to eutertaiu, 1 am rather late iu the field, aud the city is taken aud has already hoisted the conqueror's colors. Perhaps those red flags might have been mine had 1 come a little soouer ; who kuows ? " Dt tout laurier in poison est Pesse nee," says the Frenchmau ; and my brows may be as well un wreathed. 44 1 came up stairs with the dinner," Mr. Halbert was sayiug. "It reassured me as to my punctuality. 1 rather pique myself on my punctuality, Colonel." " And I'm afraid I have been accusing you of being always late," you said, " as it it were a confession." '• Have you thought so, Miss Oliver?" cried Haibert. " Dinner, sir," said Baker, opening the door. All dinner-time Halbert, who litis very high spirits, talked and laughed without ceasing You, too, laughed, listened, looked very hap py, and got up with a smile at last, leaving us to drink our wine. The colouel preseuily proposed e gars. '• In that case I shall go and taik to your daughter iu the drawing-room," Halbert said. " I'm promised. to Lad? Packer's to night ; it would never do to go there smelling all over of smoke. I must he off in hail an uour," he added, looking at Lis watch. I, too, had been asked,and was rather sur prised that he should be iu such a desperate hurry to get there. Talking to Miss Oliver in the next room,l could very welt understand; ' but leaving ber to rush off to Lady Paiker's immediately, did not accord with the little theories 1 had been laying down. Could I have been mistaken ? In this case it seemed to me this would be the very woman to suit me—(you see I am speaking without any re serve, and simply describing the abrupt lit le events as they occurred) —and I thought, w ho knows that there may uot be a chance for me yet ? l>ut, by the time my cigar had crumb led into smoke acid ashes, it struck me that my little cattle Lad also wreathed away and van ished. Going into the drawing room, where the iamps were swinging iu the dimness, and the night without streaming in through the ut -uruined windows, we found yon in your white dre.-s, sitting aloue at one of tbenr. Mr. lla'ibert was gone, you said ; he went by the other door. And then yon were silent again, staring out at the stars with dreamy eyes The Cohmel rang for tea. and chirped away verv pleasantly to Latham by the lire. 1 looked at you cow uud then, and could not ! help su pri.-ing your thoughts somehow, and know no that 1 had not been mistaken alter all There you sat. making > tuple schemes of future happiness ; you eoul.i not, would cot. ICh k beyo: J the present. You were verv calm, happy, full of peaceful reiianee. Your world was alight with shining stars, great \ g shining mtteors, ail flaring up as they usmuiy do be fure going out with a splatter at the end o j the entertainmeut People who ere iu love 1 hare always found very much siike ; and now. having settled that you belonged to that j crack-braced community, it was notii fS ait to | guess at what was going on in your mind, j 1, too, as I have said, had bceu favored j with a card for Lady Parker's rout : and as you w,re so absent and ill inclined to talk,and the colonel was anxious to go off aud play whist at his club, I thought I might as weil I follow in Haibert's traces, and gratify any little curiosity I might feel as to his behavior and way of going on in your absence. I found that Latham was alsogoingto her lady ship's. As we went down stairs together Latham said, " It was too bad of Halbert to break up the party and go off at that absurd hour. I didn't say I was going, becaose,! thought Lis rudeness might strike them."' " I>ut sorely," said I, " Mr. Halbert seems at home thee, and may come and go as he likes." Latham shrugged his shoulders. " I like the girl ; I hope she is uot taken in by him. He has been very thick all the Winter in other quarters. Lady Park er's niece, Lady Fanny Farsham, was goiug to marry him, they said ; but I know very littie of him. He is much too great a swell to be on intimate terms with a disreputable little paiuter like myself. What a night it is !' As he spoke, we came out into the street ajain. our shadows failing on the stones ; the Virgin j overhead stiH watching, the lamp burning faithfully, the solemn eight waniegoo. Lady Parker had lodgings in the Corso I felt al most ashamed of stepping from the great en- i teriaiumeot without into the close, racketing little tea partv that was clatterc* on within. We came m, iu the midd.e of a jaugling tune, the z mpanv spinning roond and round Hal bert, twirling like a Oerrish. was almost the first person 1 saw ; he w is flushed, and looked eieeediug'v handsome, aud his tail shoulders overtopped most of the other heads. As I ; watched hull I iboaghi with great complacen cy that if any woman cared for me, it wou.d not be for my looks. No ! no ! what are mere good looks compared to those mcutai qualities which. Ac, it Preseuily, cot feei.ug quite easy in nay mind about tbc*e said mental qual ities, I agaiu observed thai it was still better to be liked for one's sell than for one's mental qualities ; by wbieh time I turned my atten tion once more to Mr. Halbert. The youth was devoting Lim-eif most assiduously to a very beautiful, oldish jcung lady, la a green gaotj dres.; and I now, with a mixture of satisfactivu uud vexation, recognised the v-.rv PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. 0. GOODRICH. same looks and toues which had misled me at dinner. I left him still at it and walked home, won dering at the great law of natural equality which seems to level all mankind to one stan dard, notwithstanding all those artificial ones which we ourselves have raised. Here was a successful youth, with good looks and good wits and position and fortune ; and here was 1, certainly no wonder, insignificant, and plain, and poor, and of commonplace intelligence, aud as well satisfied with my own possessions, such as they were, as he, Halbert, could be with the treasures a prodigal fortune had showered upon him. Here was I, judging him, and tak ing his measure as accurately as he could take mine, were it worth his while to do so. Here wis I, walking home under the stars, while he was flirting and whispering with Lady Fan ny, aud both our uights sped on. Constella tions sinking slowly, the day approaching through the realms of space, hours waniug.life goiug by for us both alike ; both of us men waiting together amidst these awful surround ings. \ou and I met often after this first meeting —in churches where tapers were lighting aud heavy censers swinging—on the Pincio, in the narrow, deep-colored streets ; it was not al ways chance only which brought me so con stantly into your presence. You yourself were the chance, at least, aud I the blind follower of fortuue. All around about Rome there are ancient gardens lying basking iu the suu. Gardens and villas built long since by dead cardinals and popes ; terraces, w ith glinting shadows, with honeysuckle clambering iu acsu:d' e luxu r.anee ; roses flowering aud fading aud falling iu showers iu the pathways ; aud terraces aud marble steps yellow with age. Lonely foun tains plash in their basins,statnes of fawns and slender nymphs stand out against the solemu hori/.ou of blue hills aud crimsou-streaked sky; of cypress trees aud cedars, with the sunset showing through their stems. At home, I lead a very busy, anxious life ; the beauty aud peace of these Italian villas fill me with inex pressible satisfaction aud gratitude toward those mouldering pouiffs, whose magnificent liberality has secured *ucb placid resting-places for generations of weary meu. Taking a long walk out of II 'me one day,l came to the gates of one of these gardens. I remember seeing a carnage waitii g in the shade of some cedar trees ; hard by, horses with drooping heads, and servants smoking as they waited. This was no uncommon sight ; the English are for ever on their rounds ; but somehow on this oceasiou, I thought I recognized one of the men, aud instead of passing by, as had been my intention, I turned io at the half-opened gat , which the augels with the flaming swords had left uugarded and unlocked for ouce, and after a tew minutes' walk, I came upon the Eve I looked for. You were sitting on some time-worn steps ; you wore a geen silk dress, and your brown hair, with the red tints iu it, was all ablaze with the light. Yon lookeu very unhappy, I thought : got up with au effort, and sunied a pitiful smile. " Are you come here for a little quiet ?" I asked. 44 Inm not going to disturb you," " I came here for pleasure, not quiet," you said, 44 with papa and some friends. I was tired, so they walked on and left me." 44 That is the way with one's friends," said I. 44 Who are tbe culpr.ts, Miss Oliver ?" 44 I aui the only euipr.t," you said grimly.— 44 Lady Fanny an i Mr. Ilalbert came witn us to-day. Look, there they are at the end of thai alley. And as you spoke, you raised ODe hand and pointed, and I made up my mind. It was a very long alley. The figures in the distance were ajvanciug very siowlv. When they reacli ti.at l.ttle temple thougo I, I will tell her what I think. This was by nojne3ns so snddeD a determ ination as it may appear to you, readiag over these pages. It seems a singular reason to give ; but I realty think it was your hopeless fancy for that rosy youth which touched me and interested me so. I know I used to carry home sad words, spoken not to me, and giao ces that thrilled me with love, pity, and sym pathy. What I said was. as you know, very simply and to the purpose. I knew quite we:i your fancy was eisewhere ; mine was with you, perhaps as hopelessly placed. I didn't exactly see w hat good this confession was to do either of us, only there I was, ready to spend my life at your service. Waeu I had spoken there was a silent mo ment, and then you glowed up—your eyes meatd, your mouth quivered 44 Oh, what can I say ? Oh, lam so lonely. Ob, I have not one friend in tbe world ; and now, ?ud denly. a helping hand i? held oat, and I can't, I can't push it away. Oh, don't despise. Oh, forgive ine." Despise ! scorn ! . . Poor child ! I only liked yon the more for your plaintive ap peal : thongh I wendered at it. " Take yoar time.'' I said, " j can wait.and I shall not fly away. Call me when you want me ; send me away when I weary you. Here is jour father : shall I speak to bim ? Bat no. Remember there is no single link between c*. except what von yourseit hold in vour own hand."' Here yoar father and Halbert and Lady Fanny came cp. " Well, Esther, are you rest ed," says the colonel cheerfully. " Why, how do you do ,tome ? What have you beenta.k icg aboat so busily V You did not answer, but fixed yoar eyes on your lather's face. 1 said something; I for get what. Halbert, looking interested, turned from one to the other. Lady Fanny, who held a fragrant heap of roses, shook a few pe tals to the ground, where they lay glowing af ter we had all walked away. If you I did not go near von for a day or two after this. But I wrpte yon a letter, in which I repeated that you were en tirely free to nse me as you liked : marry me, make a friend of me—l was ia yoar hands.— Oue dav, at lust, I called ; and I shall never forget the sweetness and friendly gratefulness with arch you received me. A solitary man, " REGARDLESS Or DENUNCIATION FROM ANT QUARTER." dying of lonely thirst, you meet me smiling with a cap of sparkliug water : a weary watch er through the night—suddeuly I see the dawn streaking the bright horizon. Those were very pleasant times. I remember now,one afternoon in early SpriDg, open windows, sounds coming in from the city, the droDe of the afifferari buzzing drowsily in the sultry streets. You sat at your window in some ligh : colored dress, laughing now aud then, and talking your ten der little talk. The colonel, from behind The. Times, joiued in now and again : the pleasant half-hour slid by. We were still baskiug there, when Halbert was announced, and came in, looking very tall and handsome. The bag pipes droned on, flies sailed in and out on the sunshine : you still sat tranquil y at the open casement ; but somehow the golden atmos phere of the hour was gone. Your smiles were gone ; your words were silenced ; and that happy little hour was gone forever. When I got up to come away Halbert rose too ; he came down stairs with me, and sud denly looking me full iu tbe faco said, " When is it to be ?" " You know much more about it than I do," I answered. 44 You don't mean to say that you are not very much smitten with Miss Esther ?" said he. " Certainly I am," said I. 44 I should be ready enough to marry her, if that is what you mean. I daresay I shan't get her. She is to me the most sympathetic woman I have ever known. You are too young, Mr. Halbert, to understand and feel her worth. Dou't be offended," I added, seciug him flush.up. "You young fellows cau't be expected to see with the same eyes as we old ones. \ou will think as I do in another ten years." 44 How do you mean ?" he asked. " Isn't it the way with all of us," said I ; " we begin by liking universally ; as we go ou we pick aud choose, and weary of things which had only the charms of novelty to re commend them ; only as our life narrows we cling more aud more to the good things which remain, aud feel their value t;u times more keenly ? And surely a sweet, houest-hear ed young woman like Esther OLver is a good thing. " She is very nice." Ilalbert said. "She has such good manners. I have had more ex perience than you give me credit for, and I am very much of your way of thinking. Tney say that the old courtly colonel is dreadfully har?h to her—wants to marry her, aad get her off his hands. I assure you, you have a very good chance." " 1 mistrust the old Colonel," said I, dicta she and I chime in tune together and, as I spoke, I begau to understand why you once said woefally, that you had not oue friend in the world ; and my thoughts waudered away to the garden where 1 had found you waiting on the steps of the terrace. " What do you say of the 4 E'.isire d'Amore" Lady Fanny and I have been performing late ly r Halbert was saying meanwhile, very confidentially. 44 Sometimes I cannot help fancying that the Colonel wants to take a part in the per.'ormance, and a cract old tenor part, too. In that case I shall cry off, aud give up my engagements." And theo, nod ding good-by. he left me. 1 met him again at tbe Babuioo a day or two after. He came straight up to me,saying " Going to the O.ivers, eh ? Will yon take a message for me, aud tell the coioael I mean to look :u there this evening. That old fox the colonel—you Lave heard that be is actual ly going to marry Lady Fanny. She toid me so herself yesterday." " I think her choice is & prudent one," I answered, somewhat surprised. 44 I suppose Colonel Oliver is three times as rich as your self ? You must expect a woman of thirty to be prudent lam not fond of that virtue in very young people, but it is not unbecoming with years." Haibert flushed ap. " I suppose from that you mean she was very near marrying me.— I'm cot sorry she has taken up with the colo nel after all. Yon see my mother was always writing, and my sisters at home ; and they used to tell me . . . and i myself thought she . you know what I mean. But, of course, they have been reassured on that point." " Do you mean to say," I asked, in a great panic, " that you would marry any woman who happened to fail in love with you " I don't know what I might have done a year ago," said* he, laughing ; " but jast now, yon see, I have had a warning, and besides, it is my turn to make the advances." I was immensely relieved at this, for I did not kuow what I was going to say. Here as we turned a few street corner, we came upon a black robed mock, standing, vailed and motionless,with a skull in one hand. This cheerfal object changed, the enrreot of our talk, and we parted presently at a foun tain. Women with black twists of hair were standing round about, waiting in grand, care less attitudes, while the limped water flowed. When I reached yoar doer, I found the carriage waiting, and you and your father un der the archway. " Come with us,*' said he, and I gladly accepted. And so we drove oat a: one of the gates of the city, oat into the Campagna, over which melting waves of color was rolling. Here and there we passed an cient rains crumbling in the son ; the road side streamed with color and fragrance from violet? and anemones and sw:-et-smelling flow ers. After some time we came sudden y on some green bills, and leaving the carriage climed ap the sides. Taeu wc found ourselves looking down into a green glowing valley, with an intense heaven above ail meltiosr into 1 ght. You, with a little transient gasp of hap piness, fell down kneeling in the grass. I snail always see the picture Ji bad before me men—the UghUigure against the bright green, he black hat. and long .falling feather, the eager face looking out at the world. May it be forever greeu and pleasant tq you as it was then, O eager face ! As we were parting iu the twilight, I sud denly remembered to give Ualberts ok .-sage It did uot greatly effect your father ; but hew was i. ? Was it because I knew you so well that I instinctively guessed you were moved by it? When I shook hauds with you a d said good night, your hand trembled in mine. " Won't yon look iu, too ?" said the Colo nel. But I shook my head " Not to-night—no, tbaok yon." And so we parted. My lodgings were in the Gregoriana'; the windows looked out over gardens and cupolas; from one of them I could see the Pincio. From the one next morning, as / sat drinkiDg my coffee, / suddenly saw you, walking slowly along by the parapet, with your dog running by your side. You went to one of those out lying terraces which flank the road, and lean ing over the stonc-worb,looked out at the grand nanorama lying at you feet—Rome, with her purple mantle of mist, regally spreading, her tc wers, her domes, and great t>t. Peter's rising over the house tops, hr seven hills changing and deepening with Doblest color, her golden crowu of sunlight streaming aud melting with the mist. Somehow, I\ too, saw all this pres ently when /reached thepiace where you were, still standing. And now / have almost come to the end of my story, that is, of those few days cf my life of which you, Esther, were the story.— j You stood there waiting, and /hastened to ward you, and fate (I fancied you were my Fate) went on its coarse qnite unmoved by my hopes or your fears. I thought that yoa looked almost handsome for once. You certainly seemed more bappy. Your face flashed and faded, your eyes brightened and darkened.— As you turned and saw me, a radieut quiver, a piteous sm le came to greet me strangely— You seemed trying to speak, but the words died away on your lips—to keep silence, at least but the faltering accents broke forth. "What is it, dear ?" said I, at last, with a queer sinking of the heart, aad I held out uiy hand. You caught it softly between both yours.— " Oh !" you said, with sparklingjeyea, "I am a mean, wretched girl—oh ! don't think too ill of me. He, Mr. Halbert, came too see me last night, and—aud, he says Oh ! I don't deserve it. Oil! forgive me, for I am so happy and you burst into tears. "You have beeu so good to me," you whispered on " 1 hardly know how good. He only thought of me when you spoke of me to him. wheu—when he saw you did not dislike me.— lam behaving shamefully—ye 3, shamefully, but it is because I know you are too kind not to forgive—not to forgive. What can I do? You know how it has always been. You don't know what it would be to marry one person, caring for another. Ah ! vou don't know what it would be to have it otherwise than as it is" (this clasping your hands ) " But yoa don't a ; k it. "Ah 1 forgive me, and say you don't ask it." Then standing straight and looking down with a certain sweet dignity, you went on—" Heaven has sent me a great and unex pected happiness, but there is, indeed, a bitter, bitter cup to drink as well. Though I throw you over, though I behave so selfish'y, don't think that I am utterly conscienceless, that I do not suffer a crnel pang indeed : when I think how you must look at me, when I re member what return I am making for all your forbearance and generosity. When I think of myself I am ashamed and humiliated ; when I think of him " Here you suddenly broke off, and turned away your face. Ah me ! turned away your face forever from me. The morning mists faded away ; the mid day sun streamed over hills and towers and valleys. The bell of the Trinita hard by began to toll, I said, " Good-bv, and neaven keep yon, : my dear. I would not have had you do oth- j erwise." And so I went back to my lodging. } teif* Rev. Dr. Butler, of Washington, in a lecture at Cincinnati a few evenings ago, gave his audience a few instances of the amiable disposition of young ladies of secession persua sion. In Alexandria a gallant young artillery officer was spit npon by two young ladies, a few da?s before the battle of Bali Run. He immediately inquired their names and ascer tained their residences, and on that same even ing, with a number of his comrades, serenaded them for three boors, singing the most senti mental songs in praise of tue loveliness and gentienass of women. Toe second illustration given by Dr. Butler, was as fo'lowe : In Baltimore a young lady dropped her handkerchief one day. A Feder el officer was sufficiently overcharged with et iquette to pick it up and had it to her. The dear creature type of the graces that she was —gave him a side glance, and in dulcet tones inquired : " Do yoa think I would accept any thing from an Abolition hireling f' The third is as good as the above While a young lady of Baltimore was wai king with an " air of impunity" alone the streets an of ficer rubbed against her dress. Displaying a flexibility of nose worthy the attention of a physiologist, the Dlxianio beauty muttered the monosyllable " wretch," and shook her expan sive skirts as if to remove something Northern ly offensive. The officer quietly followed her to her elegant home, rang the door bell, and called for the gentleman of the boose. To this gentleman he presented the alternative of an apology from her or a fight from her husband if she had such an appendage, i* not her loTed paternal relative most choo-e ti t wea pon*. Angelina was called aa d remonstrated w:tb, and oemg so aJvUed, m^ e the requisite apology. ®®*" in Northwestern Missouri of itr- a prem-.aa for enough Yankee scalps to make a oed quilt.— Wheeling luUliigtnctr. Perhaps she would like to take a whole \ ankee as a comforter— Preniice. Ilvrocaisr.—Many who would not for the world utter a falsehood, are yet eternal iy sch?o2ing to produce false impression on the mind* of others respecting facts, characters, rod opimoui. VOL. XXII. —NO. 00. State of ♦ at Port Royal. The Loudon ' rs correspondent at Hilton Head, South Carolina, is responsible for the following graphic picture of the state of mor als at Port Royal : "There are two classes ol slaves in the cot ton States, a3 in those of t!.e border ; the Geld hands black in complexion, bewhipped almost daily, and locked up at night, and the household servants, the offspring of incestuous intercourse between masters and good looking ' yellow girls,' who themselves are children of white men. I have seen a young girl iu Wash ington, with light brown smooth hair, clear rosy complexion, and blue eye®, who I was in formed, was a slave. I bad previously heard of such cases, but attached small credit to the reports ; my informant being resolved to sat isfy my doubts showed me the girl, and we questioned her as to her history. "In a perfectly artless manner she told us she was born in Texas, and that at sixteen years ol fige her owuer aud father made her his mistress, brought her to Wa.-hiugtoD, and lived with her there until the secession of his .State, when be went South, taking with him, as Lis new concubine, her young sister, also his own daughter. The girl seemed surprised at my astouishmeut and disgust,informing me, with the greatest ruiirctc,' Why, I belonged to him !' " AD officer of the Wabash told me the day after the victory at Hilton Head that, going ashore with a boat's ere* that morning oa St. Helena Island, he ran agaist a number of slaves of the household class ; a few*questions satisfied him they belonged to one of the rich est planters in those parts. Amonjr tbem was a handsome looking, olive-comp'exicned girl, who lamented to him that her baby had been carried off by the family after the battle.— 4 Yaas, Massa,' said one of the male slaves, 1 and it is Massa George's baby, too and the girl showed by her maouer how rnach she wag pleased at the fact being made known to the strangers. 44 It is the fashion with defenders of slavery to aseume that morality is much higher iu their section of country than in a free state of soci ety, but such as the above between mastera and slaves has no parallel among the most de grading vices iu any civilized country. SWEARING FOR A FAMILY. — Rev. R. S. Mac lay, for thirteen years a missionary in China has written a book ia which be relates the fol lowing anecdote : Daring one of oar examinations of candi dates for baptism at Ngukang, I observed that one woman and some three or four young peo ple had the same surname. The circumstance led to the following conversation between my self and one of the young men : 44 1 observe that you all have the same sur name. Are you members of the same family?'' I inquired. 44 Yes," one replied, 44 this is my mother and these are my brothers." 44 Where is your father T I continued. 44 He is at home attending to his business." 44 Does he approve of your embracing Chris tianity r' 44 Yes, he is entirely willing" 44 Why does not your father himself become a Christian ?" 44 He says it would not answer for all the family to embrace Christianity." 44 And why ?" I asked with some curiosity, " does he thik so V 44 He says if we all become Christians oar heathen neighbors will take advantage of that circumstance to impose upon as." 44 How will they do that V I inquired. 44 Christians are not allowed to swear or fight, and father says that when our wicked neighbors ascertain we have embraced Chris tianitb, they will proceed at once to curse and maltreat us. Hence, father says to us, 44 Yon may all become Christians, but I ma3t remain a heathen, so as to retaliate upon our bad neighbors. You can go to meeting and wor ship, but I must stay at home to da the curs ing and fighting for the family." Tar MOTHER.— Dispise R. o t t hj mother when she is old. Age may wear and waste a moth er's beauty, strength,' limbs and estate ; but her relation as a m jther is as the sua when it goes forth in its "might, for it is always in the meridian, aLd inoweth no evening. The per son may be r,ray headed, but her mother re lations is ever iu its Sourish. It may be aa tuma—y*a, wiuttr—w.th a woman, bat with a mother it is a ways spring. Alas ! how little do we appelate a moth er's terider_ess while liviog \ How heedless we are iu youth of ali her anxieties and kindness! But when she is d- ai and gone—when the cares and coldness of the world come wither ing to oar he-arts—when we experience how hard it is to find true sympathy—-how few love cs for ourseives—how few w! i befriend as in our m -fortune—then, aye, then it is that we think of the mother we "have lost. t&- A FA T Vi'R.BXH RKMEMBEEIXG.—Too may read tnacy of the literary papers for a year, and scarcely ti .d a fact thai will make yea wi? v -r and better ; ail romance and fiction, '**. velvet and feathers ; little fiends, equip ped in smi lea and criooliue. big scoaodreU ia epaaietis, with a lore of a moustache, taming the heads of simper eg maidens : the eTery day history of life ingeniously belied, and beaali fclly outraged Hundreds of persons who can not afford a borne paper, in the coarse of a year spend three times the amount it would cost, in purchasing toe trash." It is far better to sutler than to lose the power of suffering. Experience is a torch tightened ic the ashes of delusion. It is oftecer a nobler work to conqaer a doubt than a redoubt. Sof The worst of ail kinds of eye water is a < oqaett's tears