1 1 el r i . I CHARLES F. 11:EA.D & H. H. _FRAZIER,' EDITORS, . MONTROSE, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 141e...)ritp , _ • ?oe,#s' eosleis." Frost the Musical World and Time& Xoonlight on the Sea. - 1 0 Come at night, when all is calm, Then, dearest come with me, '. • 'That we may feel the witching charm, Of moonlight on'the se& The stare are on the deep below v And in the skies abevei O come and thus shall be the gloir That lights our world of love. 0 come amid the hush,ot night, • Then, dearest, come with me, ~ And you shall taste'the sweet delight Of moonlight on the sea. No billow curls the ocean's breast, No cloud is in.the ski; 0 come and thus shall be the rest, -For which our bosoms sigh.. - come,in such an hour as this, come, dearest, crime to ins; 'There is a sweet end tranquil bliss In men - Might on the sea. When stars are on the deep below, And in the sky above ; Then come, and such shall'be the glow, That ligh ts our world of love. The Son 'bine Song. BY PLORI?4Ct pLitcy. A little child of three bright years, ' Undimmed by care, unstained by tears-- From whose pure soul was not - yet riven, The niusic,of its native heaven-- Implored and pleaded, oft and long, ' "Oh, mother, sing the Sunshine Songl" The mother sang full many an air, The gay, the sad, the sweet, the rare, But none could please the listening child, Who shook her head; and sadly smiled,. .As one Ito chides a grievous wrong "Oh, mother, sing_the Sunshine Song!" "Alatl" the mother's voice replies . . While tears dropped. softie from her eyes -4`l know it not—l never heard 'The Simshine Song, my singing . bird r Yet still she pleaded oft and long, -.. "Oh; mother, sing the Sunshine Song!" Spring came, and ere its reign was past, 'Lle child's sweet life was ebbing fast; And through her long, delirious hours Her dreamings were of bees and flowers,: Mingled and saddened,.all u(gin - With-pleadings for die SunskineSong, Hours passed :and on her-neater% knee ; The child lay Vying; suddenly She clasped her little hands— "Oh, mother:hear, those shining bands— • The tune . Pre waited for so long— • Alother,they sing the Sunshine Song." „ The lifted hands fell feebly down ; !Death's white hard rested like a crown 'Upon her brow.; in holy dace . • Iler face was tke an ungel's face, And she had joined the seraph thmr.g Who sing, in Heaven, the Sunshine Song. ,141e$ 410 6-lielei)o. Five Sartain's ifageuine. THE rear Enc carrut DT REV. 401 IN TODD, D. D. Some of the most, beautiful scenery to he found la this or any land is to be found in the State of Maine. _ fier rivers arc gieat itnd numerous, her mountains lofty and imposing, her sea-coast iron-bound and rough, boldly looking out upon old Ocean, 'as he sweeps 'along with tides and storms, and saying— Come-on, sir, and I'll give you a hearty wel- [ come;' her inland lakes- •still sleeping in the wilderness, are large and magnificent, her valleys are warm and fertile, and her for ests have yielded to none in the world for the abundance and peed ness of their thrber.— Even mow, her rivers send out salmon and lumber for the use of every part of the na tion. At a very early period in the early history of our country, settlers began% push up her beautiful rivals, and drop down sin- gly, or in small groups as they liked. She was a wild province of MassaCtlasetts then ;. and her population, -grapplino" with all the i • hardships of the wilderness, and'of hersevere climate, vras -very spar'se. . Far tip-, - the en- i chanting Kennebec, at Avery early day, were two fin - lilies who had .emigrated from the came neighborhood,, and who had long been faithful friends. Old Mr. Redfield liveditia comfortable, but no way imposing, log house, •on the t an k s o f the river. lie was a kind hearted, benevolent man, never believing the world to be wiclced enough tochest though almost every seek taught him the op po,ite doetrine. He labored -hard, was a good_hushand and father, a warm hearted and humble Christian, and loving all men much, and his - God more. He honestly earned property, but eauid never make it stick to his :fingers. His wife was's noble-hearted wo .man, who had relinquished brighter prospects that she might be happy with the mss of her choice. And she had been happy. One by one their children had 'sickened and in, the wilderness, and they bad carried thein to the little -Ckpening in the forest which they had cleared for a burying place. •It was the first be had made after . reaching his new home,—., the briers and weeds were not allowed to re main there. At this point my story eom . menus. 'Mr. Redfield had reached the age sixty or more. His was ten years -younger. Only one child remained to them, a staid, sots's, qulet, yet courageous boy, of about ten yea's of gage :, and he went by the plain name of Daniel Redfield. . - SOmewhat further up the river was a house of greater pretensions. It was built of brick, gambrel-roofed, and was surrounded by fruit trees and gardens, spacious barns and out houes. It stoddin a pleasant galley under the shadows of a lofty mountain. .The vale had been cleared up, and the fields of wheat and corn, rich meadows of grass, caused the passer-by to si4 and gaze, and say, 'Squire Ordway is - well to do ha the world.' The 'Squire' was a men, who like his neighbor Redfield, sins honest and WA, but in Tiorld ly-wisdom he was far his superim They had both come into the wilderness poor; butane was rich, and the other still dwelt under the shadow of Atte, i bill of wealth„ eritboat'being. able to climb it. Its golden sends ',ever seemed to roft. down near him. But the 'Squire' was qp early tad late, and the num who sold him a . poor article, or ,a bad lot of lumber, and salmon not of the first quality, musrget up early 'in the mortfing to do Mr. Ordway had a large' family of boys-- They were not so pcdiabed,, for they had Lo rough it from their infiukey: Mutual deuce and and common privations klub the seers of of the forest to be read Aar taw act of if kindness .which a; ilei g hb et .• nee d s and no . . . . . . . . . . • .. .• I I ': '. . . .. . . , : . . . . , - . . :. ' . . .: . .::. . - . .. ... . : C i t i . ... .. .. . .. . . . . . . .. . fi l rj . •. '..: b - ....t .- r .. .. • . . .... . . .. . ..b ., : . :'.-,... -: . .... . ..:: .: . - • .. . ...- - tit . . . . . . . .:. ~ : .. . . . .. _ • •- ~ . .. , .- . . - • . . . . . • , - - . ;...', - . ~. .. : ... . '.. ~ . . . . . . . . . . .... . . . . , . . .. . - . . . . . . . . . . .., . ~... . . . . . . . . . ~ . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . -_ - . - • - 44,:•-., :.-.- • . . . . . . , . . .. . . , . . , ... . . . kinder neighbora'than the•Ordways could be found'on the Kennebec. - The. parents were proud' of their boys; for none could prostrate the forest, get out. the timber, logs for ,the mills, twat the moose, or catch salmon, with More 8017;1f:tin they: But the pet of the flock was an only daughter, about four years' . old. She' was the youngest and last child— wild as the- forest . blossoms about them, and as beautifUl too.• Little Susan was the idol of the family. The father and mother early discovero that she was 'a remarkable child, ' app the boys received it as a fact. not to be questioned. Hence they gathered flowers in the spring, berries and fruit in the summer, nuts in the winter; for.' Little Susan.' - Hence, it, is not to be wondered at;that as she grew up;'.she 'band; a-will of her 'own ' and7that her. little foot came down with a decision that was unbending. 'a . • , As the two families.advanced, it was plain that the Ordways were to increase and grow wealthy. It ';was clear that the Rediieldsnev er , would. Daniel took `to books.' . Not that he disliked work, but he yearned i for 'knowledge ; so that there was not a book in the whole region of whose contents helwas -tot a master. Happening to light upfl:ti a stray . Euclid, the parents wondered much over,the beautiful figures-.whieh he drew over the white birch hark gathered froth the for est. Every pitch pine root which he found was carefully saved to give Lim - list for °study after the labors of the day. At the age of seventeen, the fl'i'er 'ct I)aniel began to droop. It was evident that he must die. Like a wise man, he had set his'house in•or der i and the. only regrets 'Which he had on the conviction that he must die, were that he lef4js widow and child's° poorly endowed. But he knew the promise of Vied to.be faith. fill, and his eye of faith did not.gro w dim. .4 re% days before he died Squire Ordway came t , pay his friend a -visit. They had• never qparrelled, and had no malice to over come.. ' .They had lived and loved like broth , ' ers, and the tears which-they , now shed were of the ttue [il ireney of the heart. -- 1' I dtin r ot doubt it,' said the dying man ; J :, doubt not that you will d vise and encourage the pout? woman asa bro her would, and she'll need it.l I have my lit : e farm paid for, and ' the cowl and the pony • itt that's all, - neigh bor. And then, my bo , Daniel! I've tried hard, perhaps not so faithfully as I ought., to wean him from his books ;.but it's is him— and •fireeould'ot. burn it 'out of him. What can be done for him and with him! - 'lt's jest a to bite he mu Can.' G.) bess you for thht, James Ordway.— And if he: don't' feel grateful. end , thank - yau, sure you are that you have the 'dying thanks of a dYing father beforehand, , I ' Who ma tell but that, , like one of our own rough legs which we send down the riv er, afid m'tuchis worked .in toa beau tiful houselt PoitOn, ite may yet become womethink that will honer us aII.' • • Su said the friend and neighbor, and the eye.of the dying man kindled with juy, and /lupe was to cheer him,ind faith to strength en him; and his last interview With his old friend was one of deep Onsolation. - . . The gOod old man wbu ried in the little gave -yard; .and the de p snows soon laid their white sheet over ' n, and the winds that sighed through the lo y forest, tolled his re /).0 quium. In a shotst me, i 3lc.. Ordway went to see the nearest ;mated mind in the' re.. gton—a humble tn . ister of the gospel—who liveclin a poor shanty - about six miles off through the woods, and who had follwed his sheep there to kep them from thew Ives.— The 'goOd man was echo , and ,a finished I st with a Smiling face ; told Mr.',Ordwayi to send the young 'man without fee iir reward . He promised to do so ; but the Squire hid occa sion in go . that way often, and it was noticed that he always stopped, ostensibly to inquire aboutiliis protege, but in', reality to drop a Lag of potatoes, a quartet of beef, a few,yartis ornantisL or something to add to the real ccimfdrt of the minister's family_ _Daniel was a good'and profitable. pupil— Twice a meek on bis pony, multi, did tip go to , rocift , eOtTld never without stopping 4 Mr. Ordway's ik moment—since he must, needs go past his d^or. It was soon . found that Daniel cotild in a measure compensate Mr. Ordway, for he now gave , lessons regularly to 'tittle Susan,' as she was still csillcd , tho ' she was now fairly •in her teens. She had never manifested any very great love, for books, but under Daniel's supervision she ae inally. had studied and made rapid advances. It isimposaible to tell why, but young Miss do so sometimes. They become apt schol ars. , Time moved on, or else our story could not.' The Revolutionaiy- 'War, had broken out and raged. The call of the infant nstion. invoking the spirit of freedom. had penetrat ed even the wilderness • and the young Ord ways had every, one dropped the axe, left their clearin ~ and gone to join the army of Washington Young :Redfield had complet ed This tulle e course within a few months— by the grew' efrerts and economy of his Wid ow& mothe , and the kindness of her hus band's old fiend, when the college was bro 1. . kini up; by tie war, and the' students .seatter ed. Daniel bad- returned home to consult his tooer and his friend, Ordway, whether or not e tibould not join the army also. It was.a ouhtful question; for though he was ii a gotid hunter and a dead shot with a rifle, vet talk to one, but if be got hold of a book, the enemy might charge And vide over him ere he knew it. The widow felt that she 'could not have hits_ go ;.—be was her. all t -- Kr. Ordway , hesitated what to advise, and 'little Susan,' now eighteen, and as pretty and as auttioritive as ever sbe was, declared it was a shame; that be ought not, to go and leave Hs aged mother; that it was lonesome to haie everybody ofT; and that aka was al most' milv to enlist and &teatime a soldier ' het•serf ratter duke stay there in the woods, so lonely I ' While this grave question was undecided, 'youngirtedfield, one morning, took his rifle and went up the Kennebec, to bunt for moose. A mouse is a large species of deer. If my readera never saw one, they have to imagine a rountl, fit bone, ent his tail off short, put lan ass!s bead upon him with immense horns, somaAnes weighing ninety pounds—give him long, deelli legs and hook and you .halve a pretty good enoose.- They weigh as much— ' and often 'more than a horse, and stand a# much Itber from the sieved, ..Dsnlel went no use trying, thy old friend. It is itTuraltor him 49 study as fora trout At a fly. Study be will, and study t, and I'll pruthise '-to aid him all I "FREEDoun taMD 2001 - 37 3 Acaomv oLawm2v mri2c) . 01 • • itp , the, river, but night calite and he . dttil not .e.turrt. Thi.4 gave no uneasine s s. But after be had been gone two,-three, and four days, the -mother's heart began lo grow alarmed.: There bad been a great - tam and_ if alive and well why had he not comic back She ce gilt old Shag and went dOwn to con sult M . Ordway. He at first thought the young an had been unsuccessful, and had detertn ned to hunt till he had get a noose. Susan eeted to laugh, and 'said undoubt edly & found moose enough, but probably_ had thrown a book at them inste/id of shoot ing; for bet% part she had donbt be was looking up the : books which he had thus . thrown away P At the same . thrie, the poor girl stopped her sewing, her lingers trembled .Mr. Ordway procured an Old hunter, and they scoured the forest in search. They found his trail, and follMved it up to Moose head Lakeovitere the Kennebec breaks out so wildly and so unexpectedly. frci.m that ma = jestic lake. There he had shot. a moose, which was lying on the edge of the water where it fell. There they found his huntiku , knife, as it dropped carelessly,.but no fir ther rs could they trace him. The shore of tit. wild -lake was stony, and no marks of the feet could be seen. •in vain therShouied, kindled fires— and fired their rifles ; the echoes came down from far up the Fake, but no other response. Had he falleti into the rapid river I r —they could find no trace of him. After lingering and searching a couple of days they returned towards home. -occasion ally firing their rifles, each in rapid succession —the hunter's signal—hoping, though. faintNl ly, that he had reached home. Bet no, "he was not there. - it was a profound mystery. 1 The widowed mother was almost crushed by the misfortune. Mr. Ordway sent .all the.l way to the.army, to see, it by any; possibili-_1 u.,, his sons had seen or , heard from young Irdfield . ; but they ,had not. They had ex • cted he would have joined them before this. 1 So it continued to be a 'profound mystery.;-- The:mother made up her mind that he had fallen into the river,_ somewhere, and was, drowned. 'Ordway nearly coincided with her opinion! . As fur Susan. 'she d'dn't, and she wouldn't believe, weak as Ini. was, but I that he knew-emit:oi to keep out of the wa ter, or at least to . rise up after he 'wits dead, and float I. What her theory was she,never told; but though she felt, bad enough; it was not the Choking grief - which the Certain death of our friends always brings. The-old hunter averred that there. was a mighty spir it by the name of Kinnio, who owned -that lake, and wlio sometimes destroyed people i who came,to•his hike alone.- His home wile on the mountain in the middle of the. lake I (now called Mount Kinnio,) where he carried his victims. andlite them halt roasted! And he consoled the mourners with the assurance. that he had no 'doubt - they "could find .some of the young man's bones the next season— thrown down the mountain ! ' . . Young Redfield had been lost,but not for gotten, about two years, when a suitor, eve xy way preposseSsing., presented himself at the ' brick house,' and in -the' most proper. way possible, offered his hand. and heart to Susan. To the - surprise of all, she civilly de clined both. The young man besought her parents to intercede for him.. They did ' IM, and to no purpose. He then sought the aid of the widow Redfield, and she had a talk with Miss Susan. To her supprke, the girl would talk of nothing but-her son Daniel, his habits, his ability CO swim, his.power to take care of .hirnself. To her own amazement, positive Susan didn't and7t-mildn't believe he was dead, or ever hadbeen. The widow al most' forgot hererrand, and went home, blam- Alt her Self for - indulging hopes on . the whim of's spoiled child. But she went to work in right good earnest to find Capeeno, an Indi an, who came in those parts. After great Search, Capecr.o was found,'and told that Miss usan wanted to see him very much. Cape.eno was a Canadian, of the Loretto ribe, and though his people were in the ter tice of the British, and were fighting - against ihe Americans,- yet he had' remained in the (vests. Of Maine, and had not takes up the atithet on either side. Ile - had received ma- . y kinanesses , -,s at the ' brick hour , :,' ai r t lit te ' S;use 7 was a i r great favorite with him.— e went to her, and long was their secret talk. Every day, for three days, did he come find sit and smoke, and listen to .the persua- Lions of the ' cede squaw.' .At - last he seem ed to conic to her views, for, on receiving the best blanket from her own bed, at-pillow case full of flour, a new knife, a huge pouch of to. bad(, a flask of powder, and a'strip of lead, which:the naughty girl pulled from the roof of the house with . her own hands, he left, struck into the.woods; and was seen no more. The next stOrtn that came, told that the lead was gone, none knew. Who . Teould steal- it 'I Jnst at the Close .-of a sultry summer's day, tWiiiifficers-were walking arm in arm on the heights of Quebec, discussing the news of a . late 'victory which Washington had obtained in New Jersey. - They were amusing them selves at the.whipping he was to receive, cal, dently mortified that -the boot bad been an the - wrong foot of late. - ' What would you give for hialieck,' said one, ' should Lord Bowe catch him V, . . 'Just as much ail would for the necks of all congress,. when we • have once subdued them,' said the other. . . . ' Howe thought he had the ragged army of .Washingtoo once so henimed in, that he could tot escape, but in the morning he. was not there; the theatre had - , spectators, but no ac tors.' as Virgil says, though I've forgotten the whole quotation,' replied the other. With your honor's leave,' said a, voice near by, " Fuit baud ignobais Argis, Qui se credebat mirua audire tragnedoe, In vacuo ',setts" abuser plawsorque theatre," as llorace, not Virgil, says.' ' Who are you `l' • • Pm your hosier's huinbla sezvant. Oh ! my young friend; the prisoner wham I begged - tof the hospital, and gave him unusual privileges, even, ben he won't give us his Hord ' thathe won't run away, if be can Well, I stand corrected as to my quotation and my author, though I should neveeexpect a -backwoodsman to be able to quota the clas sics. But why have you so long refused to give your word, and be treated as - a prisms& of war Because, sir, I ant not a prisowof war. I was captured far froni the seat of war, a peaceful citizen, by yoor, Aired judians, at . Moosehead Lake.' -_ - . _ Fur! non ignobilis Argis, ' Qui eredebat reagnas andire tragaellos..' /We shall not dispute about it. While I feel sorry-4 r you, I shall take care that you dd'not get hway' 'You hale just ack,nowledged, sir, that we do sometimes escape when you least expect - ' , The ofFicirslooked at each other . and pas sed on. The young man wailer! alone. He was pale; sad, and evidently in poor health. From the lofty heights of Quebec, at the sun down beat the drum, he cast his eyes down on the glotious St. LaWrenee, and then turn.: ed eastward, and smt his thoughts thick and !list through the almcist . interminable forests that lay in That direction. ' lie had reached the parade ground, and curia making his way to. the prison yard, when -At baud_ beckoned him behind the angle of the - wall. war.t see you.' . . • Who ''a!re you? lt, is so dark I cannot see yea.' b a - ' Mc knoW yOu—know your mother, know Shag—km 4 brick house, know Susa. How long 'filre - 4)or shut up V. . . . :: .' Perhaps twenty minutes—perhaps fif teen.' • Good. !Me walk this side street, you 'tether. , .14.epheas 'me, on 'me, and go where me go,' `The - Indianshtiflled off; saying aloud,' Yan kee mail - mlur, say whip me, lie catch me, me get canoe, hello find me.' So he had the ap pearance et:following him in hot resentment. Down the hill he went faster and faster, till he reached he St. Lawrence, where lay a ca noe.. In it stepped the Indian, pointing to an ther, which lay near and pushed off. The Young muntleaped into the , other, and pushed. after him ifs if in a race. Down the river they Arent a little way; and landed beyond point Levey. - They, leaped ashore just as' they heard the alarm flow] ded froJp the heights ,across the river;signifying the eseape of a pris oner or 3-sOldier. . The Indian paused a mo ment, aad.listened and said, " White man make too n)uch noise, too much parade—lose trail while he drum.' He led the way among the bushes, [as fast as the young man.could follow. }lbw far they Went that night, the prisoner Itn'ew not. When .morning _came, they were - by the side i of the river, just be low some beautiful falls; , For more'. than a Mile'they had waded i 1 the river's edge, so as to conceil their footsl eps. Here, just ult. der the fall.", was an o !ling -trout the Water which led into the txtvit. They crawled.uP, p and were sewn on a platform, high and dry, with a sufaiency of lig It. The young man . was.greatli exhausted, and lay down leaning upon his elbow. The I)•xliati sat before him, his•ft;et curved up under ! hitn, (pedibits intor cia,) bolt up-right. 1114 bead was shaggy-- with hair t.g. ()nurse ail(' turning gray, like . the mane af.gt moose. pis only clothing was 1-a dingy :red 'lshirt, andltrouses of untanned deer-skin. His moceasms were the skin of a moose's hind leg , cut off a little' below the off a - seW(.7'.l .u p at .one', end, and drawn and fitted .to the foot while green. His teeth were mostly gone, and he looked, as he was, a tough, short, powerfnl . creature, afraid of nothing, bitying - nothing to.make or lose.- 1 They gai.cq at each other in silence a while ; at length Redfield said,i' I have followed' yoti all night. II have put My life in your hand ; now, who. are you, and what do you want of me ?' I . . -: ' You 'fr'aid of me V . . ' No. If I had been, I should not have fid lowedyen. And now, it you ain't the evil spirit, who arc you I' ' -- • 'Six* . we meet Loretta Indians; they no hurt you. 'Me run,. then you no can say who Indian be.' ~. - - .. ' So. you want to run if we are in danger, and leareltie to my fate, and that, t00,....50 that you can't be known 1' - The Indian looked fierce - for a moment— and drew out his hunting knife. The young *man 'kept his eve carefully on nip. From the bottom of tae sheath, there retied out a small pieoe of paper, which he handed to the young matt. • He unrolled it and read: ' Should this ever Meet the eyes of D.. R., let him know that -the bearer is trustworthy. Follow. him implicitly._ _Susan o.' . v...., 1.21."Balli/111 upraegup, sae caugns use Indian by the hand, and almost shouted ques tion upon question. He was ready to g(!--,i -felt strong, could travel all day, and then fell back exhausted. The Indian gave him some water; and ten some dried venison from his wallet, and bade him ,lie down and sleep till night, if he could. Redfield- did so, but his brain whirled. In a troubled sleep he now dreamed of home, and then of his prison, then of Suskp Ordway,• then he heard the alarrn bell, at the voices of men pursuing,_and the baying - of bloodhounds hard after him, and then he would awake and find it was the roar Of the falls near him! So he spent the day. At night they came out of their cave, fol lowed the course of the beautiful Chaudiere - River, up towards its bead waters:' This charming' valley was already occupied by the French population,. and they were coin pelted to travel by night, and lie by du - - ring the day.,- Their progrcs.s was necesisaii iy slow. On the fourth day thelndian crept out of their covert, and saw several horse men coming towards them. He knew fit stantly that they were British soldiers in pur suit. They were on shill iibOut haifa mile dike - tit, and had to deseendinto a valley,and rise another hill beforetthe,y reached him.— He gazed at them _arnestly, tilt they de : seended the hill, and.iben he sprang up like a cat. He made the priioner -run to the roadside and climb gp into a thick evergreen far up out of sight. He then took off his moccasins and hid them • then he turned his red shirt,*and it was ye llow; he turned his skin trousers; and they were a kind of dirty_ green. He drew a cap so close over his head; that it almost made the bead ache to lookitt ix. ' Then he sat down sender the tree, and very composedly began to smoke. • The horsemen came up to him at a brisk pace, and surrounded him with piiitols in hand. Move a Ilia. you dog of an Indian, and you are dead. Shoot him if' he moves.' The Indian smoked on , • iitently not able to understand - a word, and an unmoved as a The commander then interrogated bini in tiho are you r Lorene Indian.' What b . are you here for , ' Ile run, catch prisoner; have - Luck blank et when catch him, _ ' Men,' said th e 'officer, ' yew say Leret tea sent out 1 this fellow don't look as' .lt he ~......- could run much.' -i I 1 ' Yes, sir, halfellatee were stet, •ou but this fellow —. l .---7.4 You say you are after a prisoner. Now speak the truth, or our pistols will make daylight shine through you. What was the prisoner's name'? Redfield, Captain say.' . And who do you suppose went off ,with him I wish I could meet him V ' Indiani say strange IndianCapeeno-- start matt--no bigger as I. He bad Indian —steal away prisoner. Where are the rest of your runners' The Indian pointed ton smoke that was ri sing up among the .trees.. The soldiers - put up their pistols, came. into a line, and went away. • Poor Redfield- hi the tree breathes easier but Cupeetio kept on smoking as un moved as if he had been in no 'danger.— Whether the smoke which he saw really did rise from the camp of theiorette rungers, he did not-say. But he 'tektite Chaudiere, and struck throirgh the woods. in a direct line, till they reached the De Loup, (Wulf River,) whose channel they, followed all night, only stopping to listen as they heard the bowl of the wolf, or the crashing tread of a Moose.— They then went to the head-lakes from which the Chaudiere rises. Here they paused and built a bark canoe. The cedar for bOwsand linings, the birch for the bark, and ?he spruce roots fur thread,. were all to be found in abun dance. They went through thermighty for ests,' and lake's which give rise to the great Petiobscott,..killing' Moose, and catching trout for food. The Indian\ was surprised to find that the young man would stop every seventh .day, and read all:day from a little book, and ,no persuasions could move him. He wonder ed, too, what made him read that little scroll of paper so often, which he had broughtln the sheath of his knife. They then struck the P.enobscott, carrying their canoe frotnlake to lake, and from lake to river, till they. came down thar.Zriver to . a g:eat island, opposite which there came in a little, brook. Up this -.place, - they-turned; and'after one more:carry ing they struck the upper end of Moosehead Lake. MA' beautiful, how beautiful! Its three days more, early in the morning, the Widow. Redfield looked out at her door, and saw Capeeno approaching. with a stranger be hind him. - She shaded her eyes - from the ri sing stm a motneat,and then with a ,scream .of agonised joy, fell to the ground. When. she awoke, she and her son were weeping in each' other's arms. That very day the took •Daniel--nothing loth—to the 'brick house. Susan - was glad, and was ashamed-to Ibe glad. She latighee to appear indifferent, I and wept because her emotions .must have some vent. She appeared to know very lit tle about his' deliveFence; but Capceno went r away 'with a new suit. of clothes, a-new rifle, and I Itx)vr not what besides. for r • Pshaw! Susqn ! You need not blush—you . redeemed a noblp.fellow from captivity, and yuu found_ that he not only made a great and a good man, bux-a good husband, as you did a devoted and noble wife. First Trip of the First Locomotive in Amer- 113 William Warts, esq. of Carbondale, Penn. communicates the following paragraph, clipp ed from an old newspaper, to the Carbondale Transcript. This paragriph confirms th , i statement of R. F.. Lord, esq. published in the Port Jervis Union, a few weeks since, and apparently settles the question as to whom belongs the credit of hiving run the first lo comotive steam engine on the American con tinent:.. Mojor Horatio Allen, the Engineer of the, New York and Erie Railroad, inza speech made during thb,teeent festival occasion„gave the following aceoutlt of the first trip . made by a locomotive on this contincrit "When was it 1 . Who was it? And who *Wakened its energies - and directed its move ments? It.was in the year 1828, on thsi banks of the Lackawaxen, at the commencement of the railroad connecting.the canal of the Dela ware and Hudson Canal Company with their i coal mine,—and he who addresses you was the only- person on the locomotive. The dr- . eumslances which led - to my being alone , on t i cir l itut t e were Zhe road had been hemlock limber, and rails of large dimensions nptched on caps placed far apart. The tim ber had cracked_. and warped' front exposure to the sun. After, about 300 feet of straight line the road Crossed the Lackawaxen Creek, on. trestle wizirk abOut 300 feet high, with a curve 0f250 to 400 feet radius. The isupres- sion was very general that this iron monster would either break down the road or it would leave the track . .at a curve and plunge into the creek. My reply to such apprebecsiona was that it wasytoo late to consider the probabili. ty of 'such Occurrences, there was no other course but to have a trial made of the strange animal Whichlaid been brought here at great expense ; but that it was not necessary that, more than one should be involved in its fate; that I would take the first tide alone, and the time wonld come" when - 1 should look back to the incident with greatlinterest. As . I placed my hand on' the throttle-valve handle, 1 was undecided whether / uoula.nove slowly or .. with a fair degree of speed, but believing that the road would prOve safe, and preferring, if we did go down, to go handsomely, and.with out any evidence of timidity, 1 started with considerable velocity, passed the curve over the creek safely; and was soon out c 4 betting of the cheers of the vast assemblage. At the end of twaror three miles 1 reversed the valife, and retanted without accident to the plow of starting, - riaving thus made the first railroad , trip by locomotive on the Western Heads phere. A Womsn's IDEA or Hiertrtass.-.--A rady correspondent of - the-Boston Times gives her ideas of 'perfect bliss' in the following para graph:- - I'm a'weman, with a wonian's weakness, end having a good constitution, can bear a great deal of happiness! 11l was asked my idea of perfect bliss, I should say, 'a fast hors; a duck of a cutter, sslenty of buffalo ,robes, a neat-fitting overetrawith.a hiutdsome man in it, and este Madam Walsh's little French bonnets! If that wouldn't - be happi ness for, one lifetime, I'm glen to conviction as to what would ligrA shrewd little fellow who has iat begun to read Latin, astonished bis masterhy the following translation. Vtr, at man ; a trap. Virgin, a man rap EgroMiss Dobbs says that r the sweetest line she ewer reed wits be Single's paw Written in =leases on , the-frvet at6op. FRAZIER & SMITB, PUBLISHERS=--NTO.Iii Rail the Ohio Journal of .geseation. CIVIL POLITY• It is highly important that some instruction should be given in this science, at least to the older pupils, in all our 'schools. The fol lowing is an outline of the introduction to the :4ourse which has been given for Some time past in the-Public High School of Columbus. etym. Potary teaches the elements of polit ical science. The elements cif this, like. most other sciences, consist mainly of definitions, - which must be thoroughly learned and clear. ly understood. L LIBERTY.—As the . term is here em. ployea, liberty is freeedom from restraint': it is classified as natural, civil, political and religious liberty. 1. Natural - liberty is freedom from all restraint except such as the laws 'of nature impose. 2.. Civil liberty is freedom from all re straints except such as conduce to the public good. • 3. Political liberty is that deveu of se curity with which a . government guaranties to its subjects the enjoyment of civil -liberty. 4. Religious liberty is freedom from con• straint in reference to religion and . religips worship. • IL LAW.--Lato is a rule of action c when prescribed to free-agents, it is a rule for ac :ion, or a rule in accordance with which they are required tp act. Law is of four kinds: . the law of nature, revealed law, the law:- of nations, and muncipal law. t' 1. The law of nature is, 1. ,The will , of the Creator, as indimted in his works; or, 2. It. is the rule in accordance with which the powers and agencies of nature, act; as the laws of gravitation, of motion,- of crystaliza tion, etc. Under this head are included the laws of inorganic matter, of vegetable. life, of animal life, and those natural leis which are universally binitng on the human family, as individuals or nations. 2. Revealed lam. i% the will of the Deity as made known try himself in the Scriptures ; it includes the- moral and the ceremonial law. 3. The low of maims are those titles Hhich define the rights and preseribe the dtk. tics of nations in their intercourse with each other_ These are 'of two kinds: 1. The nat ural or common law of nations, .which is ba.:ed upon the principles of natural justice.;' and, 2. The postive laws found in compacts or treaties, voluntarily made between inde pendent nations. ' 'The following are some . of the rights re garded as a part a the n a tural laws -4 Fut . dolls Every 'nation has a right; • (1.) To be deemed by every other nation, equally sovereign and independent. (2.) To choose its own, furm of govern ment, and 'to change it AT will, provided the: change does not affect is obligations to other governments, or to-individual creditors. (3.) To regulate its internal policy. • (4.) To dispose of its territory as"' it may proper. (5.) To use its own discretion in making commerical or other treaties, and td, encour- age or prohibit commerical intercourse with, other nations. (6.) -To the exclusive use of rivers flowing through its territery,=of all inland bays and navigable watere, and the adjoining Seis-eoast and its waters, to the, istance of three miles: from the shore, (7.) Custom requires vessels sailing -be yond the jurisdiction•of their own country to , be furnished with passports. • These 'are specimens of the decisions of natural justice On this subject, and of the laws which are regard as binding upon all..na tions. The country • which should violate them,would forfeit its claim to the protection of the laws of nations, and to the respect of the civilized World, and become liable to be treated as 'a common enemy. nilnternalimull law , or the postive law of tions, consists ,of ageeerrients., leagues er treaties., tbetween two or more sovereigns or nations..—These are of various kinds; as,• treaties ofpeace; of alliance. offensive and defensive -- ; for settling disputed boundaries ; commerical treaties postal treaties of agree ments, etc. These are binding only upon the contracting parties. • I _, • 4. Afuncipal law is a rule prescribed by the supreme:Tower in a State for government of its citizens. It may be referred to three heads.; common, constitutional, and statute law. E_ common law consist those customs and rules to sitlf.ch time and •usage have given the sanction of lau,;.its principles are to be found 1_ mainly' in the records of pourts, and the re ports of judicial deeisionS. Constitutional law co nsists of the require ments and prohibitions - •a the Constitution. . • Slatute law is the, express: written will of the Legislature. Statutes 'are binding only when enacted in due form, and in accordanee with the Constitution; hence the Constitution is sirrior 'to the acts of the LegiAnturc ; but - statute law is superior in force to com mon law; . • ;Laws may be classified; as, mandatory, commanding what shall be dope ; prohi6ita ry, forbidding certain acts; or permissive', declaring what. may, be done withoutincur , . rieg a penalty. • • 1 . Laws are also classified as, civil, criminal, _martial, commerical, etc. 111. • Govzaisuzstr.---nilions. This term, is variously defined. is, (1.) The exercise of influence or Authority over indi vidt)als, states or*.nations. , ,(2.) It hi, the power which enacts, executes and adjudicates the laws. .(3.) It is the whole body, of con stituted authority kt a_state or nation. 2. Applications of the 40:74. In the com mon slee.of die term, we speak of (easily, sehoolpnd church government,; • in the civil sense, of municipal, state and national govern ment. 2. Forms. There arts three distinct forms of government: Ifonarchsy. Aristecra cy, .and Democracy. Monarchies, are alma lute or limited, hereditary or eicetiye,. An absolute monarchy is called a desp6tism or autocracy, and the monarch, an autocrat. Democracies aro Ore or reresentatiye. .Repesentittivs democracies are generally call. ed Republics s some aristocracies Are also - - 4. Dpartme,te. Evert government, whatever .4s km; irmslot of throo' deg** Matte i the legiatekieloexecutivt, and ludic- IV. • Before prwebdilictor examine oqy olds o acrp,odier toriri artafrAtizteht;ifrek II INS follojing dermas:ions - ust he tho mit* learned _ Sovereignty is supreme poWer 9 i "VI, - - .. ent nations, whatever their form' ( A govern ment, are called savereigniiesi. , - . -'-.' 4 COnstitation is the fundamental. 11111110( a'nation, and determines its farm nrsorien , ment.' ', , A Bill is the written form` of an act, PIO' posed for enactment by a Legislature. An ft.ct or Statute is a laW.which has -basis duly enacted. , A Retrospective Law: is'onewhich•act.S.up.: on thiligs already.done. 4.v . 'vat facto . .Law makes an act, criiar nal: which was not Ito when it was peg:awl , A Charter is an act creating a corporatio# 'Or separate mun‘cipal.goverment. A. Corporatiosk is a body politic; hivitika common seal. Banks, Railroad and Turn- Pike Companies, Colleges, etc., are isitpets; Municipal means relating to a any". Lion; when contrasted with national,, it may refer to a State. - - Sufrage, a vote. Ballot, a, written cote, or ticket. Franchise, a particular privilege; as elective franchise: Citizenship, the right to enjoy ,the franchise of a citizen.-- Naturalization, the act or process by via* a foreign lr becomes a citizen. - Quorum, such a number- of; any bairns" is necessary t!) do business: Majority, More than half. Minority, lolls than half, rality, n nuTber greater than other- per= - receives; as, a plurality of votes..'- , A legal tender is the offer of such an iirthik as the law requires, in payment-of a debt. Tarces are, contributions imposed by the government upon individuals-for , the ; service of the 'State. Revenue is the money raised for the uses of the - government; it may be- 'derive from Various sources. Duties, Imposts or Custom* are sums is , quired by government* to be paid -on good* imported or exported. . Tarifr,, a List or table of duties required ,ts; , be paid upon goods. a • , A Court is a place which justice is ju; : dicially administered. • - • • Jury, a number of men selected for'the purpose and sworn to- inquire into a' matter of fact or try a cause. A. Petittriiir usual; ay consists of twelve men ; a Grand Jury, (in this State ) ) of fifteen, .twelve of whom must agree in a verdict. - _, Aen . roner's Jury, or Jury of inquest, is'r, one summoned by a Coroner in a case °feud-. den or violent death. '• A Verdict is the ems 'raying, or answei of a Jury.) ) ' • Jurisdietion is the extent or limit of legal power. An Indictment is a written accusation *rt.\ crime or misdemeanoripresented upon oath, by a•grand jury. • , • Judgment is the sentence of la*, pro-. nounced by the court. - - A Reprieve is the temporary suspension a - - the - execution 4,r a sentence, Impeachmeq is the public accusation- of -•— • - Crime or misdemeanor is an act antwait. ' 7 -ted r or omitted, in violation of public lairs. Murder, lifinsraughter, Homicide, Aram, Burglary, Robbery, Incest, Duelling, and oral other offenses, are included in this list. I. - Treason is levying war against the United. ' States, adhering to their enemies, givingthem: aid .and -comfort. Rebellion, - 6 4 pett -and avowed renunciation / of the government tO which one owes allegiance. Secession, h a Atithdrqva l from competion with a. tderal govertupent..- Aevolution, is a radical thane in a goik•ertimer•` Tbo of ig =tint ht, wilt-do w... /At to edo and ii4aught, ag. he will twit or unravel his chain 0r4.,,c0rd. If the dog is chained r and the ehain_l*oines jitney way jammed between things lying abotti, or twisted upon itself, the animal drags hard :tit . it, away from, the zoint of entanglement, per haps increasing' the- evil=becomes alarnied —cries ,out, and „never thinks of slackening the ehnini and turningbank to see what the cause of the inconvenience fa. -..: Not so with tie ourang-outatigi the moment such an ac.. cident occurs, he deliberately - sets about:put. ting-matters to rights. He does not dreg ~ away from the point of resilamie—doeis:not ' insist on running forcibly counter, but 'fishnet- - ly slackens his.chaiii, Elsa huMan being sratdd ~ do under - the. - like jcircumetanees, end -goes . back to see what' occasions the 'obstruction. If the elmin has gut entangled with a : lox or any tether article of furniture, he disengages. it; i(it has becam'e\twisted, - litLcOnsidersi the matter ; and untwists IL '. • ' We had in our possession a' dog 'the shepherd breed, which happened . to be ieir ii up one day, when a friendi called, us * who mai eating it bun ; ; a piece of Whi threwlice 44 to the animal. .It on the 800 be . fop) him, a few inches beyond the reitift el hisOutstreiched,fore-paw. After seTerid in-- effectuat efforts to get at it, the dog, to our surprise; turned round, and . scraped the bread . within,- his reach by his hind pals. 'Vhitz was* pnaee - ss of reasoning; en adaptation et to to an end, like that eibibited Ity the ourang•outang mentioned in , the preceding , , ParligraPk• - ' -- - AIIIBRICAN VINETARDIL—ItOben Buchanan, of Cintinnati, Nye that he:lld year from Vineyard 140.000 euttingi, and tbinki that the whole number scild in one nensonlrould nUmber 2,000000 and 300,000 stocks. MAL looks very midi - like mabinethe,olll4*lny the'land of the Vine. - - PIEReel KANSAS MESSAOI4 13 40110111114)Sd in every quarter' where independence slid manlirms is net esrtinet. • The • Nevi Tor* Evening Post, siatch' supported - Pierce - he rresideney, regards 4e _Mealy .as=s pkee of insufferableiinsol#* - , iserAn esehsngo -paper, m ire „ p9risous- were frost, bitt:ett` during the` 2. - „ t„ severe ireather.limpatim. to know the, best remedies._ ; Iritt alum and water mentlonwl as so • .2 -• eombination s And 4101*-47 practical ' tittriiiqtaliC Mork' Working.farmer, states tkektissosalusd kr% vophialatik,lll4o - Uttitid, fkiikaOriP , t littiookar‘ot3siO hundred'. fifisiataidUWL tatiritlistiWea•- on- erop.. WE _ IMO Mani MIEN
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers