it#ast'' . tc ,p4i,-..Vre'prittdirs estittt Vottq.` From the Detnperntie Union. To the Susquehanna. AY STANK DOUGEF,RTY. No more upon thy verdant shores, The Indian maid her sorra a pours, Or sings to listless sycamores, - _ My native Susquehanna! Nor does "the warrior hunter roam, In - search of deer so frolicsome— Enticing him far from his home, Upon, the Susquehanna, No more lidown thy rippling tide, The Indian warrior woos his bride, Or chants o'er him who battling died, Along the Susquehanna. The startled deer now lightly bounds, And deea her from the baying bounds, Along thy ancient hunting grounds, Melodious Susquehanna! The milk-maid on the rine-rolie swing*, Ere home her - well-filled pail she brings, And bird-like notes she sweetly flings Across the Susquelumna., • The truant.boy with ruddy cheek, - Now romping playa ut hide-and-seek, Or laces his form with manY alreak, In crystal•Susquelanna. The villa fait with well rherti green, Reflecting in thy mir3i, sheen,L Lends double beauty to the scene. ' And gems the Susquehanna. Thy shores no more by red men trod, Bursts forth in fruitful praise to God, And with its ripeness smiles the.sod, Of blooming Susquehanna. Again, and once again" 1 hail Each craggy peak, each flow'ry vale; And though all oiler memories NI,. greet Mee, Susquehanna! The Magellanic Clouds. BY J. W E TT Our lone Aip points her arms of white Up to the worlds ofstarry light, Which sparkle on the brow of Night, To Heaven's broad dome t tarn my eye, The Smat,hern Cross suspended high, B:azes in glory on the sky! • In that grand Star-set Cross we trace, inwrought upon the debths of space, An emblem of redeeming graze. . Where the deep ocean-skies expand, St . tetehes the galaxy's bright band, A silver reef on unknown strand. The 3fagelanie Clouds arise, . Mi4t.islands on the Southern skies, White elottd.wreaths to the gszing eyes. And one dark cloud seems like a door, An opening through the beaten's bright floor Upon the boundless chaos-shore. The stars that round its portals stand, Are watch.towers of that unknown land, Where circling ants in space expand. • `.c . Half would the fettered spirit die, . And to you distant opening fly, To gaze on heaven with undimmed eye Leaving its prison -house of clay, ft fain would rend the veil away, To bask in one eternal day Serenading a Young \ Lady , . In my young days, says the editor of an exchange paper, I was extravigantly fond of attending parties, and was somewhat celebra ted for playing the flute; hence, it was -gen erally expected, when an invitation was ex tended, that my flute would accompany me. .1 visited a splendid party one evening, and •was called upon to favor the company with a tune on thetute. I, of course, immediately complied with the request. The company ap peared to be delighted,but more particularly so, was a young lady, who raised her hands, and exclaimed that it was beautiful, etc.- 1, of coarse, was highly flattered, and imme diately formed a resolution to serenade the voting lady the following night: Previous to leaving they, I made inquiry respecting her residence. I started the next night, in company with several young friends and ar rived at the lady's rmidence, but made a most glorious mistake by getting under the window of an old, Quaker.. I " Noir boys," said I," behold the sentiment ality of, this_young lady tlie Jnoment I strike . up the last rose of surnmer: " I struck up, but the window remained dosed. The boys smiled. ' "Ohl" said I, " that's nothing; it would not be good taste to open the window on the first air." I next struck up on "old Robin Gray."— Still the window remained closed. The boys snickered and I felt somewhat flat. ' ‘oAtee more, boys," said I, "and she must mine I struck up again - 4 , 4 My love is like the mi, red, rose." Still there was no detrionstra tios. "Boys," said I, she's a humbug. Let ns ring Home, sweet Home," and ; if that don't bring her, we will give her up." We struck up, and SE we finished the last line the window was raised. `That's the ticket, boys," said I, "I knew we would fetch her." "But instead of the beautiful young . lady, it turned out to be the old :Quaker, m his Eight-cap and dressing-gown; _ . ,"Friend," said he, "thee was sing ing 4)1 thy sweet home—if I 'recollect rig ht, thee said tbere wia no placelke home:—why don't thee go to thy. home Y Thee is not wanted here—thee not any of thy party.-- Farewell 1" _ We and our bats went homel - Sketch of Luther. BY CARLYLE. A course, rugged, plebeian ; face it was, with great cragnaf cheek-bones--a wild amount passionate energy and appetite 1 But in his (lark eyes were floodsof sorrow ; and the dfitep ,fs:t melancholy,sweetnonoincl !mystery, were; all them Often•did there I*m to meet in Lur Ilia the poles inpaasiszliaracter.. He, for ex ample, o f whirria Riteher had said that his ..... , . . . . \ • k . . . . , f7270//';047/fi' . .. .. ig t, ' 1 • \ . , . . . :"7/470.74Z7,117//), . - ' - . • . . . ' ' ' ',...- ...'''±•-•''' ,", o' 4 , ""' '''.;;;, • * / 5 . . - ..: ' /,‘ \ . . - 1 -- -Th"!,,i . . " .4 . ' 1. 4 \,,, - .'., . - r ' - ' . .. /0, 7 ,, ' .-9 , .„ r, k _ _,\-L:". '. •N' 4, /,-N t , . ' ' '''. ' .), . //, (k ''.• .), - - -•- -,L.: k H/ z. '. 1 1 , : ' •--4,-:`':*„. 1 !go '•- i.,/ k'' . : i —) ' ". 0., ' :. ~' 'A ..) , ,1 1 . % \.,.. \4 ---- 1 . `i. ,J w .-I,l)\''' •,, ds 1,.. ~.., . ~.":, ;7 ' ''' 7 ' I ' r ! ' / ."' ' r 4 F - ,''.: l \- ";% w 4 Ip, ./I `1 4 ....__ --;„ t i , , - i l,-• t / ';,/,',,,' . ,-,. - J J o. . !''.. ..- ;,;, :4 s . 4,1 ~, • ~,; : -- ~ 1-. , , ( - \ ;., i -101, . -1, r ' ' 4 ' ' • i , • • •$ ' 4 : .--„,,, - i . -4, v, ,, A , 1:.,.„ )4', ;* .A,', A .,..., „,./ k, / k , , p L, 4 ,„ it/ ~- !!f;; ''..%: - ,/5,, , , , , ~ 'T - . ,;:?.. . ryszim . o ,- •:, i - . . _ . • , . .. , . . . . . . . - .. . ~. . .. ; ' \ . " . - . - • ' . . words Were balf-battles, be, when he first be "gan to preach, Sneered unheard of agony.— '• 0, Dr. Staupitz, Dr. Stnupitz,' said lie to the vicarLgeneral of hiS'order,.' I cannot, I cannot I sludidie in three months.. Indeed, I cannot do it.'Dr. Stannitz,, a wise and con - siderate man, said upontlis; ' Well, sir Martin, if you must die, you must; but remember', they need good beads up yonder too. So preach, man preach, and then bye or die as it happens. So I.,uther preached and lived, and he be-, camel indeed, one great whirlwind . of energy, to .work without Istitig in this world ; and also before he died: e wntiernAny, very many books;,—booloi in which the ctue,tnan was— for in the midst of all they ? ; lilenounced and cursed, what touches of teiiderna lay. Look at the iTable Talk, for example. ' WO, see in ha little bird, having alighted at sun`se ton the bough of-a , fa tree that grew in Luther's gArden. Luther Iked — up• at .it and said : . ' That liti le -bird, / tv - it cowers down its wings,and i w'll sleep there , so still and fearless; thOugh •er i,t - arethe infinite ( s t arry spaces, and th , great blue, depths of inimen.ity. Yet it fears not—it is at . hbme. The God that mjde it tools there.' Thssame gentle spirit . orioal admiration is in the other passages - of his books. Coining home from Leipsicl, in the autumn season, he breaks forth into living ;wonder at the fields of corn --‘ flow it stands there,' be says, • 4 erect on its beautiful taper stem, and bending its beau tiful golden bead'iwith bread in it—the bread of man sent! to hint another year' Such" thoughts As'lliese are as- little windows, through which Wegaze into the serene:depths of Martin Luther' sbul and see visibly across its tempests an l 4 41onds, the whole - heaven of light and loye; Be might haVe painted lie might bas. l .4 sutig--could: have bee beau tiful like Rafilinel; great like Mattel Vogel°. i i Speech of Hou. Joseph Howe. Or e - 1• • 1 In e , Nor a Scotia' House of Assembly, on the 21st of iebteary, 1855, in opposition . to the-'„Pro4bitory Liquor pm. , After much reflection upon the subject, he bad not been able to bring his mind up to assume the responsibility of voting for the this bill.' HeUapproved.of the Worts made by. the Tempol i ance Societ'es, and wished them success, so long as they sought to reform by persuasion, by argument and example. When they attempted; impossibilitics,, when they sought to coerce the pen le into' temperance, he consciencionsly believed they would fail— he believed thai all ;the good they bad done, ,would be perilled by a resort to harshness and coercion. i . - The Deity had • not, prohibite‘; the use of wine. On the contrary he had given the grape to man, with immeasurable other boun ties. - Our Saviour bad not prohibited the use of wine. He bad sat. with those who drank it, and had, by a miracle, replenished their cups at, the Marriage Feast. The apos, ties iad not forbidden, the use of wine. Its use ,was denounced in the Foran, by the pagan Mabumet, but was not, 'so far as he per?eh'ed, in the Bible. What, then, the' l Almighty bad not done or attempted—what He could have done with so much ease, yet bad refrained from doing—hetheught it no wise•for man to attempt. ;. The evils flowing from the excessive use o wine be deeply deplored, as lie did the evil flowing from the Overindulgeance of an other passion or. propensi'ty.j 'But who could' argue from excess of any kind that the ra tional enjovnient - e)f God?e gifts was therefore sinful? -Who could venture to argue that because mischief iwas done by many ofGod's gifts that.they.shOuld, on that account, be oircumsCribed or prohibited by human laws? The atrriospliere that fans the i l cheek of beau tv—that: invigorates the frame—that flutters the leaf upon the itree—that dimples the sur face of tlake--that gives variety and majes ty to the when accumulatedin masses, lashes it. If into the teruntest arid`strews the ocean. l 7 e shore with the 'rreek of human life and 'pro perty. The learned member, standing amidst the wreck of nark* and the whitening bones of the human victims, might eloquently de scribe the scene; hut would he,'if be could, attempt to restrain the eccentricities of na ture, or to forbid to man,, by human laws, the benefit of navigation II How beautiful is water! (the Temperance man's own element,) yet how dangerous. The rain which fertilizes the fieldssieeps away withlt.s excess, bridges, mills and Libman habitations. If not drain ed off it sours the land, and breeds the pesti lence i cities; The ffre that warms our hearth+that clears our weoilands----and smelts Our metals—that drives our steamers and loComotives, is not lesi dangerous.— Would be deny to man the tale of these ele meats because the causalities by fire are most disastrous! Would he forbid their use because people are lamed in cities; droilied in therivers; because a boiler butits at sea, or an engine sometithes runs off- the track, or kills hundredi by violence of colision! Wil liata the Con n oerr, ii, is true, once denied to the; people orgngland fire and light after the curfew tolled,:but tb '' abhorrence in' which , the act is hr t eld would encourageno any body to follow liie example. • Wemati , is'' , God's best gift 'to man. Ilhe i, fascination; which she spreads around her how.d 1 ffiCl4 t to resist—the passions she inspires how intimately juterwoven, with all that arouses to exertion„ and rewards - us for our toils. Yet , when even lore is indulged -in to excess—itlien reason is overpowered—when passion barries'on to folly, how numerous the victims ;1 how blasting the effects. Yet who would, i.easoning from ' the perils of indul gence, and the dangers of society, deny to man the Companionship which alone makes existence tolerable! The leartied member of Annapolis:l - eight draw from the sinks of vice, or even .from the agony of a single victim, - some hairowing pictures; but would - he on that account imitate the Turks, and lock up all the women" (Roam of laughter.) The victims of indulgence in opium I have never seen, but even spirituous lieuorSd4 not produce: the extent of physical suffering and moral dislocation that results frcirrilthoi use of this drug. 'But would the learned Member deny to society the use of that which allays the de liruni of - fever—which wall the infant up on the mother 's bowl; and ves more lives titani it ever destroyq T e gunpowder, which blasts our, rocks, looseis our 'plaster, defends our country, acid kills our game;--- Mark the miser and mischief it produces when its mysterious pewit is abused. But who would argue that, beotuse boys blow themselves up,' and tyrans lusei g . unpowder.for unworthy purpmee,it use eboubi be forbidden! Would thlY learned gentletui, even . with the : 1 , 1 IA WEEKLY jOURNAL--DEVOTED TO, POLITICS,t NEWS,. LITERATURE, AGRICULTURE, SCIENCE, AND MORAIYEY. • battlefields of Balaklavannd Inkerman before him, attempt to restain, by human laws; the manufacture and sale of - gunpOwder f.. Who denies that_ law is the safe-guard ~of our lives and properties:; that courts are indispensable institutions; that lawyers are the fearless ad vocates of.the innocent and oppressed I But has not even law been abused 4 How many pettifoggers defile the courts; ensnare the ig norant; waste. nien's estates, and embitter their lives? Walter Seott's Peebles 'and : Planestanes„ :and Dicken's . picture of the Court Chancery, are familiar to us all. . These are but sketches illustrative .of the evils in separable from the dispensation of Equity aild Law by the most-perfect tribunals of civilized countries. How are these evils to be mitigated or re moved; .1 wmild say, by. discumion, by ex posure, by. exatisple, by bOnest and successful atternps to seperate the securities and legiti mate practice of • law from • its abuse. The learned advocate of this bill, to be consistent, should close ihe courts, imprison the lawyers, and forbid th 6 manufacture of law, or its im portation from foreign countries. Woman, from her first appearance on .the stage of life, bad brought sorrow and suffering with her. In her train came rivalries, and jealousies, and war and strife., Let the learned member go into his own country,' where the pretty fa ces, peeping through the apple-blossoms, are lovely to •behold. Even there—are.there no broken hearts, no pale faces, no blighted lives, no damaged reputations No girls with Burn's pretty excuse upon their lips— ".A dear, loved lad, occasion sung . A treacherous inclination I" . No youths pleading,.in the intonation of pas sionate repentance, that even— - "The light that led astray • Was light from heaven!' Yet would the learned gentleman, in view of all thew evils, point to the pretty girls, and Say—" Touch not, taste not, ,handle Would he, for fear of migcbief, coop them all up like cows in a Belgian barn.- ' - The world has come down to the present period from the most remote antiquity' with the winecup •in •its ,hand. David, the man after God's own heart, drank wine. Solomon, the wisest of monarchs and of huin aribeings, drank wine. Our Savior not . - only drank it, but commanded Christians to drink it "in remetitheranee of him." In strong contrast . with our Divine Redeemer's life and practice, we hear of the SCtibes and Pharisees, who drank it not—who reviled out Saviour as a "winebibber," and the "companion of pub lieuns End sinners;" who would have '.voted for the! Maine. Liquor Law as unanimously as thei cried, "Crucify him." Such people have existed in all ages of the world. The desire of human beings to dictate to each other what they shall eat, and drink,. and - wjar,.has been evinced in different coun tries atidifferent - perieds. The zealots in the State of Maine are mere plagiarists after all. Sumtuary Laws, tried in many countries, at different periods Of the world's history,- ,are now universally c4nderiiii6l by the goo" sense of mankind. 'La'ws restraining drunkennes4 are nearly as old. as drinking. It is curioul to see what strange experiments have- been' tried at times. Zaleucus - of Locics, 150., yeari before the Christian Era, ordained " that nd woman should go attended by in-ore than 013(2( maid unless she was drzini. and that. she should not wear gold or embroidered apparel: unhs she intended to act unchastelv." This. sage Law giver punished adultry with the loss of both eyes: llis own son broke the' law, and the old gentleman, unwilling to de-, price his son of both eyes, compromised the, matter by putting outone of his own. ' As early as 747, laws. were passed in Eng bind restraining drunkenness in the Clergy. And •. Constantine, king of the Scow., (who was - a sort of Neal,Dow in-his day) punished it roi,th, death. - - His law passed away as this laW will pass, 'and a good deal of whiskey has been drunk in Scotland since. In England, in '995 an 'effort was made to restrain drinking by jaw, .but it failed. Taverns were only. introduced :in the 13th century. In'the'reign of Edward the 111, there were only three allowed in Lon 'don. Now there are thousands, Edward the IV, tried to restrain them in 1542; 40, were then allowed in London, 8 in York,,4 in Ox ford. They were not licensll till 1752. The history of wine is curio ue . Its invention is attributed to Noah, who certainly had seen enough of the evils of water. The Chinese made wine from rice two thousand years be -before the birth Of Christ, and although- it must be allowed that they" have tea enough, they make and drink it. yet. Wine was but little known in England till the Roman con 'tlues.t. I We' are told that it impaires our ,strength,• yet the people who drank it con quored (those who did not. It was only sold by the apothecaries (as is now proppsed again) iu the 13th century. .In 1127, Henry the VI, a sensible king, tried to' restrain its adultera tion, and 14e. read ,"that 150 butt and pipes were condemned and.ernptied into:the gutters in London, for being adulterated."l 'Montrose, ,:insqutanna Count, renn'a,, trlttrsbay, Doming, Fula TO, 1855. The Stoics denied themselves !the -use of wine,.but their.sect soon died out.i The Pu• ritans tned the experiment of com ing people into temperance and virtue, but 64 signally failed. I invite the honorable and leairned mem ber from Annapolis to review this period of English history.- I refer to the !time when the Puritan cause was most triumphant, when Charles bad been slain, his followeni dispersed,- when Cromwell reigned 'in Whitehall, when his . naajor Generals held military cOmmand - of all the Counties, when the May poles were struck down—the theatres closed—the tow ers shut up; when mirth was restrained and temperance enforced 'by the sword. Now, what *as the effect of ail this l No sooner was tbb Protector in his 'coffin, than the peo ple of England by a dommoa impulse, threw off a system which they regarded as opressivn. So distksteful had their restraint become, that the pedple restored the Stuarts, forgot their civil wits and sacrifices—reopened their thea tres ap l taverns, and so disgusted were they with E l uritan domination that liberty was forgot* in the general joy which the restora tion oft personal . freedom occasioned. The wine cup went round and from that day to this no attempt has been made to re-establish Cromwell's Systeni. ,Now, what I fear is this, that the friends of temperance are about to sacrifice all the good they. have done, as the Purkans sacrificed all the reforms they bad established by eafrying restraints too fan— This law may be : partially enforced for two or three years—but: it will coerce people into resistance and oc'pasion a revulsion of feeling to befollowed by universal license. . • : So far as my reading extends, I may assert that .every King and Statesman, every--War 7 rion who has illustrated the pages of History, darnk wine. Th© apostles who were the com panions of ourqSavionr, drank it. The pro plias whose flight 6f inspiration still astonish. us, we have evety'reasokto believe, drank it. Cicero and Demostlien,)ttid all the orators of antiquity and of modern times indulged in juice of grape. Who- can say how much of the inspiration whieli gave the such power -of language was drawn from its inspiration..' Have these-men been eclipsed bithe Dows, and Kelloggs of the Platform. What orators have the State of Maine sent us forth compara _hie with the Pius end Burke% and Gratfans, and Foxes, and Sheridans of the British, \ Is lands, every one Of whom drank wine? Let the learned' gentlernan glance at the no. ble structures—the architectural wonders that embellish Europe.' Who reared them ? Men of gigantic intellect, whose common beverage was wine. Let his eves .range. through the noble galleries where the Sculptors have left their statues—where:the - painters have hung in rich profusion' the noblest works of Art. Wine, we are fol I, clouds the facultieS and deadens the . imaginatien. Yet it was drunk by= those benefitetors of their race, and we cannot,. with their master pieces before us, believe the assertion till their works have - been eclipsed by artists trained under this rigorous legislation, Has Maine turned us out yet a statute that any body would' look at, a picture that any body would buy ? Look - at the deliverers of mankind—the heroic de fenders of Nations. Was, Washington. a member of the Temperance Society Did not Wallace drink the red wine through the helmet barrel ?" Who will undertake to say, thatßruce,,on the" morning on which he won the battle of Bannockburn—tbat Tell on that day when he shot tlis apple off- his son's head, had not tasted a glass of 'whiskey or a stoup of, wine ? if then, Sir, all that is valuable in the past, if heroism, and architecture, and: oratory, sculpture and painting,-11‘ , .a1l that. bits:bul warked freedom - .and embellished life, has come down to us with the juice of the grape; if no age or nation has been long without it, I think it behooves the advocates of this bill to show us sOine country' where their system has been tried—sothe race of men who drank nothing but cold .water. turn to the learned member's -oivn pro fession. I ask him' to show me two such lawyers—two judges so eminent as Lords Eldon and Stowell, the one the wonder of the Adiniralty as the other was of the Equity Court. Yet it is on record that, at the very time when these men were oppressed with Herculean labors—when daY•after day they were delivering judgments so , masterly and profound that - they defy all criticistn,'eaeli of the Se. great jurists drank his five bottles"Of Part ,a day. (Laughter.) certainly would not advise the leanied member from Annapolis to ;ry in this'eoutary.an'experiment so haz ardous. In the must climate of England it might be done, but not in the dry atmosphere of Nova Scotia: I have sometimes seen hinii however, when a few glasses would have done - him good. Indeed, I sometimes fancy that, .both in the-Senate and at the Bar, his. wit is not as poignant or his logic so acute-as in the olden time vhcn he used to take his glass of wine. My bonorab e colleague and friend from Cumberland, whose sincerity in this cause I entirely . respect, quoted to us last winter the passage from Scripture;..--" If .eating meat causest me brother).o offend, then I will eat no more."' But would my honorable friend shut tip all the butcher'sishops, and forbid by law the sale of meat, for fear somebody would eat too much ? Again—he told us, "we have tried moral suasion, and have faild." If so, who is to blame ?' It a speaker here fails to convince his audience, dO wepermit him_ to coerce them into belief by force of law ? . I resist this bill because it is a violation of the voluntary principle: l3eCause it_ is defended by the oldargumentsby jwhich fanatics and persecutors in all'ages have sought to propa gate ,religions opinions. Hoping to save men's souls, (more precious than their bodies) Catholics have burnt Protestants, and Pro testants Catholics. The right of private judgment was denied. The. right of one hu man being to' coerce ethers into belief, as is now sought to coerce them into temperance, has been - tried - thousand times, and has failed, tis this attempt will fail. • . ISchiller, the .great German. Poet ; alifays composed with' two bottles of wine before him, and his feetl immersed in a tub Of cold water. • ifiIITHEL" Delivered at Harford University tee Term ending July 3d, 185 S, by GEO. A. CIIASE. Polities of the Old World. Ten years ago Atstria presented an unbro ken front to the world. Her . voice was lis tened to with respect at the council-beard of nations,—her armies were invincible,—her subject provinces obeyed her imperiouS will. —her commerce extended in all directiOns,— the arts were flourishing throughout her do minions,----prosperity was written on her past history, and there was no visible sign of de cay in the future. Common observers saw no indication of an approaching dissolution, and the oldest ststesmeu regarded the House of Hapsburg as the bulwark of thrones. But, how'changed het position I—from being one of the greatest powers of the Old Woild, she became the slave of Russia. - By violating her faith with Hungary, she quenched the loyal ty of that brave nation, and lost- forever her hold on the noblest kingdom in her empire. She could not Subdue Hungary,- for victory seemed chained to the wheels of Kossutb's cadnon. She was forced to*sue- for Russian aid, for she nit that without "it she could neiet save he4elf, much less, crush the Hutt gariians. An irrmy of Cossacks came at her sigital, but. sW was not to reap the fruits of their victories The Hungarian rebellion was smhthered f the moment,—and - Hungary pieirod on sides, bled till she fainted end fel4 She's red, to be conquered, but jthe whOe worl -news she was not. subdued... Att stria made herself an enernyl err house i Hungary, Not a fire-side in that heroic kingdom, around which lamenta tionshave not been heard for the dead. Her plains have been wet with blood shed by AuStrian hands,—and there is not a child in Hungary b.ut will, among ftg earliest lispin,r, utter eurse - on the Austrian name. Russia is now master of Hungary,—she, not Austria conquered her,—and she, not Austria, claims the prey. Great empires can furnish no surer indica tion of an approaching dissolution than the rebellion and loss of ancient provinces. When ; the name of Rome no longer inspired terror among mankind, the hour of her downfall was sounded. Every, petty . tyrant . insulted the name of Napoleon, after he had lost the `restage of invincibility., And, if .Hungary fr'ere told to-day, that the Cossacks would trout -no more, and that she might cope with is alone, her heroic peasantry woul more darken the shores of the Darr_ aer victorious banners would aglin be unfurled, \ and the dust-clouds be rising over her cavalry, on the road to Vienna. Whatever Lo is Napoleon or his traitonao comilices may su*ed in doing for the mo ment, is no indication of the future fate of France. Ile has risked all in his Quixotic dream of empire, and. the ,nation will never allow him to make any 'nttircs eiperitnents.,H- A. league with Austria silo will never consent to, much less with Russia; and if the Czar had persisted in his demands on the Porte for the surrender of Kossuth, the gleam of *two hundred thousand' bayonets would have been seen on the Danube. Rtissia has made one .Poland, Europe will never allow her to make another. The memory of the Moscow expedition is still fresh in the minds, of the Frenchmen ; they 'still hear the hung ry howls of the Russian wolves on the retreat ing track of the_ grandest army since the time of Xerxes ;—in their dreams still sweep by the Cossack riders, on the rear columns 'of Napoleon, staggering back to France through the storms of a Polish winter. Standing between Russia and Austria the Prussian power must resist their encroach ments or be crushed. There is not' in Eu rope a nation better prepared fer wat,4nOt one illuminated by brighter intelligence or' fired with warmer patriotism. She, foo l must ,battle for liberty Or be crushed lty the 'Cos sacks. - Greece and Turkey are ' natural 'enc.: mies of Russia,—they have fought her from the beginning, and they will oppose her still. But there is Italy,—crushed _by despots at home,—;-intimidated from abrowl,—betrayed, outraged, trampled in the dust, she is Italy still; and this means that she the mother of republics,-- 7 ,that history for twenty-five hundred years is filled with her 'glery c ---and the love of liberty still burns a living, eter nal flame in her breast. Italy, all Italy is. but Rome in example and spirit,---she may `looi calm, but her bosom is heaving,—she is biding her time,—she is not crushed, but like Ilungaty, she has yielded and recoiled. But bow _with Kossuth! England, and perhaps Atherica, too, will be forced to thaw ,down the gauntlet to' the Czar and fight with Kossuth to save Constitutional Liberty:— Ilungary is the martyr, Liberty the foot-bal) of nations. Who knows, then; if Civilization may not have to battle for Kosstith,—one man against the million,--humanity,-nations, the world drawing -its sword, for a single hero I From PetersOn's Magazine. MY GOUSIki HAREM BY CARRY STAXLEY, Author of "Ada Lester's Season. in New York." CHAPTER- 111. It was nearly three years after my first in troduction to my cousin. The snow had been falling softly and silently all day, and as night came on we drew the curtains in the little parlor and prepared to pass a cozy evening together. The tea-table was already 'arrang ed, and aunt Patty bad the silver " caddy" in her hand, measuring out, witn scrupulous exactness the silver shell fsill of tea, which constituted her "drawing," when the hall bell rung violently. -" What a dreadful stormy night. for anY one to be out," said aunt Patty, as she peer ed into - the tea-urn,where she had just thrown the bohea. A stamping 'in the hall, as if some person was knocking snow from heavy hoots, aroused all our attention ; and before We had time to speak, the parlor door opened and Harry Anstruther entered. . There was the same open, boyish ensile as of old on his face. Aunt atty dionped the lid of the leis ure, and sprang forward 'to meet hint with a cry of glad surprise. Aunt Margaret also, on the Impulse of the momont, bad risen with unusual activity; but before her sister's greet ing was over she bad' resumed her chair, and , awaited her _nephew's' salutatiOn with frigid dignity. . . 1 I-- His aunt's manner ,very perceptibly affect ed Harry. His greeting was. constrained, and. I, who had been Standing aside, now no ticed-that his fade bad a care-worn, sorrowful look, not natural to Presently his eye rested -on me. I enjoy ed the'look of astonishment with which he regarded me, and I said with a low courtesy, and in a tone which mimicked the one ho had.fre-eted me with three years before, hrm your cousin Isabel, dear." "Goodness gracious l is it possible I_ -Why you are not such .a dreadful/right after all; ' and his old manner returned as he spoke. " No, I'm 'filled up,' tea and muffins, you know," I replied, nodding my head. We took our seats at the table, and Harry's quick glance soon detected the vacant space over the mantel.. A grave look stole ever his face, then he said with an !attempt at gayety, • , • , " No . longer worthy, eh, aunt Patty I" But he sighed as he pointed to where' the portrait had-hong. Aunt Patty was very rqueb embarrassed as she replied,- • I "We had it carried up to our; chamber, Harry—". ' • 4 " And from there to the lumber I ream," in terposed Marraret, sternly. The look, which overshadowed the hari some face of my cousin, made myt-heartache forlirn ;. and I refired to .myown. remit as soon as tea was over, that I might be no re straint upon him and, his aunts. ' The; nest day aunt Patty told me there Was something about • Harry, she could not find out.; Only that he' had acknowledged ho had lost nearly all his money; that he was going to Europe for awhile"; but that ',she believed. he .w 4 still engaged to Nelly Hale. - My cousin was nett° sail till, the Ie the'theantime- we were constantly togeth er, and I began to. Wonder about Nelly Hale. But he never mentioned her name. , Aunt Margaret's manner toWarda her neph - - - , ew softened in - spite of herself, and had it not been 'for shame, I verily believe that the . por trait Would have'been restored to its' original place: The last week of his stay with us had. ar rived. Our aunts were entertaining a circle of friends in the draWing-room, and we . were alone together in the little parlor. I - was crotcheting a • purse • for my cousin; talking busily the while of his anticipated tour. - " How I envy You, Harry ;I. wish I . Was going too," I said,enthusiastically. • • • . ." Will you go, dear. Bell?" he . said, sud denly.. " Could you love such a . worthless b nOod-for-not hi nrr_ scamp as I amt 1" Nelly Hale, and the gambling, and the du el, all crowded upon my mind. . I rose indig nantly. • ,; • , What•de- you mean, sir, by offering me the remnants of a heart, and reptuatacm„ and fortune ? Me And I confrOnted I him as. .1 spoke. • • . t Alas ! had I been more indifferent,l proba ably' I should not hav'el,een so angry • think. he, was paler, though his laugh was light, as he asked in his old, mocking .way. "Mercy, Bell I What :would you have said . if I had been in earnests" I was so astonished, that fora monieni my quick= 1y to cease beating-, but I quick- . ly answered, I - "Thos I should have informed yon,r aunts who would have speedily rid me of the noyance,' and I picked up the' purse and went on with my croteheting,.. _I know not what demon prempted:that ungenerous reply. 14. cousin looked at me so reproachfully, that I could scarcely restrain my tears. arose,, walked up 'and down the .roont once or twice, as if conquering some: emotion, said, • " Forgive . me i lsabel. You were justly an gry at my supposed trilling ; .. .ltt do not 'rob. me of my aunts' love. It is all I have left . ,My tears were . gath Bering. fast. Vdare . d.not trust my voice to answer. I would not Idolr, ; up lest I should betray. mysalf. Id a sliortt time Harry left the room. That evening',nt the tea-table. he tad ni'' that be should leaveearly .the next morning' as he bad some 'business to settle in„ New York before -he sailed.. flis aunts expreised their astonish men, scanned his- thee - narrowly and no. doubt wondered - what "new scrap Harry had get in ; but I swallowed my . , te aj with a great gulp that neatly choked me.- 1 I sat -up half the night to 'finish the 'purse. I had, foolishly wrought bluti ..forget4ne-not on the crimson ground. When I handed to him the next morning, I tried hard - to steady my voice and lip, as I said with adver-I ted eyes, . 1 . . . "Do.not,think too unkindly of me, cousin Harry." , ; . Aunt Margaret's .spectacles were blurred by the , tears which she would not let fait, when she - bid Harry good dye, but poor aunt Pattrcried . as if it were the one great-sorrow of her life-time. As for myself,.my eyes burn ed, but! there was ho tears, even of symPathy in theta . noiv; but my trembling limbs al most refused to-support me; and the hand wliidir . he took at parting, must-have sent vu icy chill through his vetuzi: I saw the carn-. age drive from the dodr, then I went to my` room, and'the desation I felt ; and the tears and moans which caped ine , . told me plain ly how. indifferent was to. Harry AnStrather. f CHAPTER IV: A •year after my cousin's departure, I was invited to a. bridal party at Mr. Welsh's.— George and myself were on , good terms, al though he 4 bad ceased visiting me long before In truth he was a fortune or position hunter, both of which he had found in the graceful Alice Brant, whom Harry bad eulogised on the first 'evening of our meeting. I bad been in the room but a short tine when a beautiful young girl, with a face as' fresh as a rose-bud, and as bright as a ,sun beam, left the circle - surrounding the bride, and coming up to ma with the confidence of one who was nevsr repulsed, said, "Are yOu not Miss Hadley, Harry An struther's cousin i" , I bowed, and as I glaneed at the-beautiful creature before me, a sickeuing realization of who shi3 was stole over me." "lam Nelly , she; went on, "but I suppose lam not as well nowil to you as you are to me." Alas ! too well known. But I did not say so. I only buried my face in, my, koquet as I replied that I had often heard my cousin speak of her.. "If he were my brOther I..could sot love him More," she - said. • I suppose not, but asked somewhat iron ically if "she! kneci what a brother's love wasll.. "No . ' never had a brother ; and:when Har ry first went to years 'ago, we had such juvenile flirtations. We.vowed regular ly twice n week to die , for each other, and were very much disappointed that . : tbere wjm no occasion for it, I believe."' , She must have thought me dumb at gist. The meeting was so Unexpected,- that it was sometime before I could recover nay faculties to speak of him to her. And I felt Most bit terly, for , whatever her reelkugs. might _have been, I be li eved that , he-had loved liar sin cerely. She was-chatting on inlet light4ay way, when a gentleman came to claim her .band fora waltz. Her face brightened still- inore as she exclei,med, _ , •• , " Oh! Willie, this is Misilladley,'Harree cousin you know. Mr. Graham,' Mims Hadley, , At. the mention of ',Ham; the4entlentan, whose back was partially toatiartl me, as: he wm about to lod Miss Hale sway, turned' .( .. ~; '~;~ . < ~ '. equint 12, saddnly,.With his fine. face SP,TrliDg-W1 emotion, as he took my hand, saying: :; ; .: " You do rot know how glad r am to meet you ; to see any relative of Hirry'e The wal4s seemed now-to .be forgoitgn,.and . harry, and; Harry's present doings,. were ui~ discussed. _ _ "-I wish he would come,home, said &fly, _,E gaily; "in his lad letter he promised. me ix . et of pinkreor4l from Naples." I fett sonie comfort in thinking that I %ins a kind of Woman to whinn be could not piow l . iso a -set of ',pink cern]. , . "Do. you know, Miss Hadley," . , said 'Mr; Grahala,. sdddenly, "Abet I am indebted Itxt yotir cousiu for all the happiness of my lifer I looked linquiringly at Nelly, whesi bhie eyes the tears was standing. ' "Not only her," said he, with happy. laugh. t I took Mr: Graham's, ann- almost uncon sciously; fty I felt that much of what we had never known of Harry was "to be revealed; and we left ihe crowded room for the halt.. " .Anstrether is such a generous, nobl hearted fellow, that I don't believe he _Op .• ever done himself justice „to .his friends * . :tit home," said my companion. "His chief-loving disposition was always getting . Min into trouble. He was atilie head of,all. the harmless praoks that drove the profess : . ors nearly mild. Zit, unfortunately, his love of excitement took a quieter but more dart-. (*emus tiirn. He became very-fond or card -He lost his money like-a prince, hut that did not seriously impair: his large fortune." . • , There was a mement's panne - in the narts--.' .five, and Nally, who leaned od the other arm, looked up encouragingly in! Mr. - Grahaeir face. -r, , • The fellows at collegesaid Harry and-I, hunted in couples,continued he. In truth', I did make him my model .but' but I soon surpasied him'in my fondness tor gambling and the:extent of my losses. One night, ob, God I that . eight irstny madnesx lost - . all, -mere than all I bad, and I knew if - ins' 'Utid= owed mother survived the knowledg,e of my_ shanie, had made her a beggar. lielly,too, to whom I had been engaged for more than a year, I felt would never be allocVed to akar- Ty a penniless gambler. In my frenzy I was ready- to commit suicide; bit Harry An st ruther, who had witnessed, all,. saved me." Nelly's tears were flovving, fast, and . the': speaker's voice quiveaed with emotion: ~ Ile declared that -it was his example; I. which had first tempted me---but heaven knows that was not true—and he never lef t Ine ran that,horrible night, till front his *in. fortune he bad made arrangemets to pay, my debts. I sometimes-think now I must have. I been insane to have allowed it r -but fold - I I mother and Nelly t As, for Harry, 7 he said:lt was a cause of thanksgiving. • It seemed ai our eyes were opened for the first time_ -to, the horrible precipice on. I believe no ear t hly power could, tempt. Her 'Anstruther now. to touch a card. And with God's belpmither will I," and he bow ed his head solemnly as he.spoke.. "And to think that papa so unjust . to Har ry as to refuse to let him come'to the house, till. Willie heard of it,'and told lam the whole - truth. . I was dreadfully frightened, for fear papa would make me break . m . y ' engagement with Willie; but De ieid, that after " such a lesson, and with such nfriendas Harry, there -was not much danger,r 'and, as:Nelly, spoke, the smiles had alread dried aU'r'nyithe tears; • " But the duel'," I asked. . • " Ali! did you hear lof that tooli." said .Mr. .Graham. "We thought it was kept . pretty for Fuller hardly got - a scratch, though he 4.4ervetj something mofe: He unpardon ably insulted a pretty little millinerig6rl, and boaSte'd of it, in his cuts;' when Harry remonstrated with himlabout it,'" high_ words ensued; he called you cousin a - liar. and .a Coward, - and it all ended in the dual." ' A little. more talk ofIcollege• life, and we entered the parlor. Harry's entire': Viodica- Lion did not give .the aiddloyed yleasu it 'should have done ;, it wait: . all mug - led' , ith regrets - for niy own hasty pride, bitter reg tar the love I had thrown away. I' ler ed home from the party and"rttshed ; into y aunts' chamber.- It was some time before `I could make them comprehend the, weleomu news. ~ The next day Harry's portrajt again 'hung over the mantel in'the little parlor. :My acquaintance with Nelly !Isle riPened into friendship (luring her visit At A---,and I have promised to act as-bridesmaid-for her the next winter. Gutham had received an unexpected fortune sometime .Wore from a god-father; and had already refunded the -money which my cousin f -had -so generously given him. • - CHAPTEp?V. We -had fora long time eagerly. toenail Henry's - letter for some intimation of his re turn home, when one day we read "I shall not probably, be with:You in .two months. Graham is going to be married to my little friend which prodigious - feat, Ye thinks, i cannot..beLaccomplished with out my assistance. Deti*4ikunii - PaitY,-hoir often hate I ;mystified you with - regard to that same Nelly. - I believel tilut passionately in love, with her for one Whole year , the firs t '. of my college life, though , got the violent emotion.exhausted itself, bdtfor"all that, I think she is the darlitinvit little cietitUre.lir- I am twenty-six, sober twenty-six, dearest aunt, but your kind letter about the restore,. tiow of my property, nearly, mind I say:needy, brought the tears to my eyes. I had enough,. to live upon_ economically withoitt I feel somehow as if Iliad no - right to than r-- Zdv example was so near causing a suicide- - 4nd tiro broken hearts at least. 1 44411 my fault. It seetns. astir the sufferings - Of s century were crowded intWthat night. Ihttro, are two things, %waver, Ant Coniolit'ine;r now thatso, genefouSly taken all - the blame on , hintself4-..lotat , ;Margaret . and"; yonnieltiova me as. of old,, and if. I ever ofer, , my hand to st' stomin,lt *ituQt.bit with"' on. ty the reumatitaitit a limit, and' ' reputation ; , and fortitnii.'" . "' ' ' , . _ .. . I was not. forgiven,- : . ''' ''' '. ', Be came, and - We- met;, not as et' old 7 w i tt i-: gibe acid _ jest, for-theta was-in!gc).ll o ot t: the.senhanit km*, !Ind • more diguit7llribe, suhdueii demeanor' of my_ cbtigni , l ll 4 ,o 4 , :pride"hid grown - thto Ate piride:or:A4Poud, "roman and was no longer that :,,of .Ipeetiisik Sahoot `it-or a petted keirit* - 1 1 , -"",' ' ~ Wel ~ We tWO stoop beside Willis fiesbair:. .3 1 and N ally when they were: Inasti4d.' ,, ,Thenr., Naas many a silly 'joke about'"one -wedding MEI =IN =MI EMI Ittinktr 211 i