THJE I have sworu upon tho Altar of God, eternal hotlllty to every form of Tyranny over tuo Mlml of Man." Thomas Jefferson. PIUNTED AND PUBLISHED BY II. WEBB. Volume 5 V. B1LOOMSBUIRG, COMMBIA COOTTY, PA. SATOKBAY, DECEMBER 11, 184. Ri'ttiaJjcr 33 OFFICE OF THE DEMOCR AT, .1,'i'in'iiif r?.'i7 Saturdau motnintr. at 'Hi 'J :3i ijij.nn( per annum, jiuyuuw half iirarli in advance, or Two Dollars Fi'j'tv Coals, if not paid wilhin the year. .7) niihs'rfrtloii will be taken for a shorter period than six moniii.?; nor any aiscen tl.niance vcrmilled, until all arrearages are tttsruargca. 1DVEPTISEMENTS not exceeding a square win be conspicuously msertea at Ulie Hollar J or Hie Jirsi nirec insertions, A W.nmi'ii.finn rr.ntn for cveril subse. intent vicrl'ion. SC3" liberal discount made to those who mvcrliae by the year, 'jETTBRS addressed on business, must be po'it paid POETRY. TBIB3 BAIAOT. BY J. K. DOW. )read sovereign, thou! the chainlesa will Thy eourco the nation's mighty heart H'lio ballot hox tby cradle still Thou speak'st, and sixteen millions start Thy subjects, sons of noblo sires, Descendants of a patriot band Thy lights a million's household firoe Thy daily walk my native land. .nd shall the safeguard of the freo, By valor won on gory plains, Become a solemn mockery While freemen breathe and virtue icigns! Shall liberty bo bought and sold By guilty creatures cloihcd with power honor but a nama for cold, And MiNcirLU a withkrrd i-lower t no parnciuo o accnraa'i siuui Has pierced thy sacred sovereignty, A rwl nil twlrt thtntr nnA nil ,vlii fan. Mu"t ct, or never maru bo free. o party cn.uns nuuiua us nerc. No mighty names shall turn tho blow : i iikii. wiiuiiiitfLi iiiivtitiii' iilv. mmiju.ii. And lay the base apostates low. The wretch, with hands by murder red, May hope for mercy at the last; And its who deals a nation'a bread, May have oblivion's statute passe. But ho who steals a sacred right, And brings his native land to scorn, Shall die a traitor in her sight, With none to pity or to mourn, hrom tho Metropolitan Magazine. Tim CRUSADER'S SOW. TO THE HEBREW MAIDEN. BY IIK3 CRAWFORD. Hebrew maid, veil thy beauty, Lsst my heart a rebel prove,' Breaking bands of holy ditty, For the silken ohains of love, Look not on me sweet deceiver, Though thy young eyB beam with light Thoy might tempt a true believer To the darken shades of night. Hebrew maiden, while I lincer, Hanging o'er thy molting luto," Every chord beneath thy finger Wakes a chord that should bo mute, Wo must part and part forover, Eyes that could my lifo renew ! Lips that mine could cling to aver 1 Hebrew maiden, no adiutt ! THE HEBREW MAIDEN'S ANSWErf. Uhiistian soldior, must we sever! Does thy creed our fates divide t Must we part, aud part furavar ? fckall another be thy bride ? "pints of my fatter slaeiiuijr,- Ye, who once in Zi.n trod, Tell me of the Christujn's God ! I the Cross of Christ the token, V Of a saving faith to ttmn ? fn my eatly vows bo broken ? Spttits answer wu ! Thty dan : . Mercy merey sbono about him Ail the blessed with him trod, V'e nan ne'er be savad without him, Chrihtun, 1 bel'uve thy- God. From tho Brother Jonathan. THE FIVE FRANC PIECE. It was past midnight, and the bride had long been in her bridal chamber, when the young bridegroom escaped from his friends and found his way to a private staircaso whero a confidential maid awaited his com- ug, on a landing piano near the door that was to open for him above. 1 Go in,' said Anna, in a low whisper, ' my lady is wait ing for you.' The husband of an hour tap ped at tho door, opened it, and threw li un ci fat tho feet of a young and beautiful wo man, isite was scaled near the tiro, in iuc aleeant undress of a rich widow, to whom a second marziags had given riso to new hopes and fears. ' 1 beg you will rise,' said she, giving him her hand. 1 No, no, my dear madam,' said the young manjgrasping her extended hand in his and carrying it to his lips. ' No, let mo remain at your feet, and do not, do not withdraw this little hand, for I foar you will vanish and leave mo; I fear it is all n dream; it appears to mo I am the hero of a fairy tale such as I remember in my childhood, and that at the moment of possessing all in this world I wish, tha de ceitful fairy wil fly away with my happi ncss to laugn witn tier companions at my regret and despair' Banish your fcar.my deer Frederick; yesterday I was the ividow of Lard Melvil, to-day, I am Madame de la Pour, your wife, dismiss from your imagi nation this fairy image of your childhood for there is no fairy talo to relato, but a truo story.' Frederick de la Tour had every reason to believo that a supernatural boing had taken his fortunes into keeping; for, during the last month, cither by accident, chance or destiny, an inexplicable alienees had ma'de him rich and happy beyond his most ean gutno wishes, tie was young, not nicra than twenty-five, alone in the world, and living with the most self-denying and rigid economy, when one day as he ws walking in the streot of Saint Honore, a splendid equipagowzs suddenly drawn up opposite, to him, an elegant woman leaning out of tho coach window and seemingly much ogitatcd called out to him, ' Mr. Mr.' Ho stopped The footman descended from his station, let down the steps, and with his plumed hat in hand respectfully invitod the astonished Frederick to entor tho carriage, Ho did so, .and thus, is if by magio, found himsolf seated nest to a woman both you it? and beautiful, and dressed with great olegance and richness. He had hardly time to look around, before the horses were again at full speed. ' My dear sir,' (said the lady who was thus running away with htm, and in the sweetest lone imaginable,) ' 1 have re ceived your refusal. I hope I shall see you affain at my little soiree to-morrow even ing.' Me! Madam,' said Frederick ics, sir, you Uh I beg a thousand par dons. I hope yon will forgivo the mistake I have made,' said tho lady, with an np pearanco of surprise, 1 but you resemble so perfectly one of my intimate friends, that T mistook yon for him. Oh, excuse me, sir; what must you think of me? but the likeness is 60 striking it would have deceived any tie.' Before thic explanation was nt end, the equipage entered tho court yard of a splendid mansion,and Frederick da la Tour could do no less than band Lady Melvil from her carriage. Now Lady Melvil, as we havo said be fore, was handsome and not one of those disagreeable red cheeked, heavy stepping immense English women, who when they smile, oper their pale lips affectedly and show you thirty-two frightful big teeth. No, sho was a French woman, anil hqr beautiful black hair contrasted well with her brilliant, complexion, aid her coral lips permitted un occasional glimpse of the whitest teeth in tho world. Frederick de la Tour, dazzled as he might well be, by so many charms, had no difficulty in believing that Lady Melvil had mistaken him for soma less happy mortal, and ho thanked his stars for itj as-it enabled Jiira to know my lady, whose obliging and very flattering in vitations ho eagerly accepted, and, strange to tell, soon bocamo not only a marked fa vorite), but among the moot constant and welcome guests at her table. The rich wi dow was surrounded by suiters who were dismissed ono by ono,and it was so brought about that before tho end of a fortnight tho young clerk had an interview by her lady snip a own appointment. Marriage was proposod by her and of course accepted by Aim, in a delirium of love and astonish ment. Frederick de la Tour stood before tho small glass in his modestly furnished attic and looked at himself from head to foot. Ho won uot certainly an ugly man, hut he could not consider himself handsome; his dress was such as became- a clerk with a sa lary of as many dollars only as there are days in the year, and ho could not there fore attribute his good fortune to his tailor, Ho concluded ho must bo lovod for himsolf alone, or else that lady Melvil was under somo strango and unnatural delusion. When the marriage day arrived, and when tho fu ture husband was in presence of the notary, his astonishment was rc-doubled. He would bo worth millions. Ho would have (oaid the marringo contraot) a ennntry seat in Bargunda, a domain in Normandy, a houso in the street of Saint Honoro in Paris, and "arious othor goods and chatties of which, until that day, he had never heard a sylla bio. Lady Melvil had riches across the channel also, mines in alos, and grazing lauds in Devonshire.1 It was to the young man a golden dream from which he dreaded to awake. Tho mayor had sanctioned and tho priett had solemnly blessed tho tinieu, yet with religion and tho laws to aid his reason the feeling that it was but a splendid dream, would not leave him oven at the feet of his lawful wife in tho bridal ohainbcr. ha preened. her lis ml t-lii lipr, Jteiigraspj' convulsively the embroidered night uress, in his fear that all would vanish. ' Rise, ray dear Frederick,' again said his wife, 'draw thnt easy chair closo to mine, and let me talk to yon.' Tho young man did bo, but without releasing the hand of his wife, and Madame do lu Tour began thus: ' T hero was once upon a timo ' Good heavens,' cried Frederick, I am not wrong then, it is! it is! a fairy tal Listen, my dear sir there lived once young gitl whose family had been rich, but when their daughter was but fifteen, they had no other means of support than tiie daily labor of her father. They lived at Lyons, and I krow not what hope of bettering their condition made them removo to Paris Nothing is so difficult as retrieving our fall on lortunes, anu again tilling tlie placo m society; and moving in the circle that wc have been obliged to give up. The fa&e of this poor girl experienced it, for after struggling four long years with poverty and neglect, he died in a hospital. Her mother's death soon folllowed, and tho young girl remained alono in a cheerless garret a long arrear ol reut unpaid, with the chillling pre scuce of the two miserable untenanted beds, to increase her sense of grief and desolation If there was to be a fairy in my story she should, without doubt, at this moment ap pear; but theio was not a chadow of ono. Tho young girl was unknown in Paris, without money, with no frionds or protec tor, to sustain and cherish her, and sho as ked in vain from straugers that employment which makes the riches of tho poor; guilty pleasure, it is true extended its arras to al luro her, but there are minds. so formed a9 instinctively to lore virtuo, and to detest vice, and her's was happily of this stamp hut she must eat, and the hunger of tho day was increased by a sleepless night, bringing a second day without food. You, Freder ick.have just left a table groaning under the weighf of luxuries, whore the rich vinos have mantled in the glass, acid, although you were made rich but yesterday, yet you havo no conception of the deep misery of which I speak, and you may well bo aston ished that in the midst of the magnificence which surrounds us, anil seated di we are in ihesa ample chairs, embroidered with silk and gold, that I can conjure up such a scene but listen still. Hunger onmpcllod this poor girl to beg; she shrouded her head in a veil, onco her mother's and her only inheritance;she bent her body to appear infirm and wont down from her garret into tho street. There she extended her suppliant hand, alasl tho hand was white and delicately furmed, and there would bo danger in showing it, but sho bound tho coarso veil around it as if it were too hideous to be oeun. She took her sta tion near tho entranco of the court vard far distant from tho light of any lamps, and when there passed a youug and happy girl (alas! far happior than hcrsclf,)sho hold out her hand and asked but a sou ooo sou to buy a little bread; but at evening in Paris, young girls are thinking of other things than giving away sous, ii sue saw an olu man approach, eho vonturod to imploro his aid but old ago is often hard hearted and miser ly, and tho old man would turn his head from her and pass on. The evening had been cold and iainy, it was growing late and the various night watchman wero going their rounds, when tho young girl, fainting with hunger and disappointment, held out onco moro hor hand it was to a young man who stopped, drew from his pocket a piece of money, which he dropped into her hand as if he feared to touch so much misery, A policeman, who no boubt had boon watch ing the poor girl, suddenly appeared, and seizing hor rudely by tho arm, 'Ah! I hove caught you,' said ho, 'you are beggiug in the street, to the watehhouso my old lady Tho young man immediately interfered taking her part with the groatest warmth ho drew to his sido tho arm of the beggar, whom ho had just feared to touch with his gloved hand, at thecamo time saying to the policeman, 'this woman is not a bcggar;it a mjistakc, I aax acquainted with her. 'B eat'Wafteelor'ier-of-Uie law logatnsi street begging, 'Itell you,' S3id tho young man sternly 'I know her and shall protec her.' 'My good woman,' said ho, whisper ing in tho oar of the young girl, whom he supposed to bo an old woman, 'tako this five franc piece, and lot me load you to the next street.that you may fly from the fellow who is watching you.' Tha five frauo piece slipped from your hand into mine and as wo passed under a lamp which until then I had taken care to avoid, I saw your tacl.' My face,' exclaimed Froderick. ' Yes, my dear Frederick, your face; it was you who thus preserved my honor and my life; you gave five francs in charily to Lady Melvil, to your futuro wife.' ' You,' said Frederick, 'young, beautiful and rich; you a beggar !' ' Yes,' said Madamo do la Tjtnir, ' onco I was indebted to charity, onco ouly and it was to you. The morn ing after this day of misery, which I now regard as tho most fortunate of ray lifo, a kind hearted old woman took pity on mo, (and sho has had causo to bless tho hour elm did so) and found mc a place as seam stress in tho establisment of a rich noble man. My light hnartedness aud good looks returned with my ability to support myself, and I soon became tha bosom friend of tho respectable house keeper. One day Lord Melvil camo into my little room, as I was at work, and seated himself by my side. Ho was a man about sixty, tall, thin and in manner cold and reserved. ' Young wo man,' said ho, ' I know the story of your life; will you marry me J' Marry you V I exclaimed. 'Yes mc,' said he; I am rich, and am dsterminod my riches shall not go to my unworthy nophewe. I am a martyr to tho gout, and would rather be ta ken care of by a wife, than by mercenary servants. If I may believe what I have heard respecting you, you possess elevation of mind and correct principles it is in your powor to beconia Lady Melvil, aud to prove to tha world that you arc as worthy of good fortune as you have been praise worthy in atrucgliug with adversity.' ' I loved you Frederick,' continued tho brido, ' and although I had sean you but a moment, yet I could not banish your image; and aonatliiirz whispered to me from the inmos recces of my heart, that our lives woia id be passed together. When I looked at LoitJl Melvil, and observed his serious melancholy face, his oyon bright and piercing, with aa oxpre3icn of successful etinning. I could not help thinking that tho sirango step he meditated waa but to gratify a feeling of ro- vongo, and I was unwilling to ba his instm' men!; and thus, although the noblo Lord did not receive a refusal, yot ha saw my hcsU tancy and agitation, and like most persona who moot with unexpected obstacles, he ba camo moro eager, and pressed his suit with. unwonted ardor. Those with whom I liv ad, and every body I saw, advised mo to profit by this ficakof an English Lord witk millions; a part of whoso fortune at least, in the event of my doing so, must soon ba mine. As for myself, I thought of you; my gratitude lent a thousand graces to your person. I recallodd continually tho kind tone of your voice, although heard but for an instant. You had never oven Icoked id my face, and yet I was near sacrificing ttf this dream of the imagination my good for tuno and your own, but I had taken a leas son in the miseries of a lifo of poverty and suffering too sovere to suffer thesa romantic feelings to overpower my better judement.. Your imago was reluctantly thrust asida by tho poor sowing girl, and I bscama Lady Melvil. It was indeed, my dear Frederick) a fairy tale, that I, a poor, destitue, friend less orphan, should become tho wife of ono of tho richest of England's Peersj that I & modern Cinderella, in my splendid coach with servants in heraldic liveries, should drive through tho streets in which, but a few short months before, I had stood as a bsg2 gar; that I, clothed in silks and ladiant witH with jewels, should look from my high es-' tate,' upon the very opot whoro I had tromb' lingly extended my hand for charity. It was a turn of fortune's wheal too incredible1 fori belief; In truth a fairy 1ale but.tho -fai-. ries of this world of ours, my dear Fredar- lek, are tho passions of mankind.' ' Happy Lord Melvil,' cried Fredsriokj ' ho could enrich. ' Ho was indeed happy,' said Madarad do la Tour, ' and tho event proved that tbia marriage which tho world looked upon as folly on his part, I caused by my good con duct to ba regarded as tha most sensible thing ho could have done ho was rich not only beyond his wants, but beyond even his wishes. Ho could never manage to expend his income, and had tharcforo no need of endeavoring to acoumulate. Ha rightly ba lievod that ha might trust in the attachment of a wife who owed every thing to him and never did ho for one moment repsnt that he had manied a French Woman. I reposed, on my part, perfect and entire con fidence in Lord Melvil as to any provision in tho disposition of his fnrtuna, and with sincority and tsndemoss watched over his declining years. Ho died, leaving ms tho whole of his immense riches, and then I inwardly avowed to marry no other mart than the man who had relievad mo in my greatest nood but how oilsnt you are,' (said Madame de la Tour, pressing the hand of tha husband sho had onriehod and would lovd with such devotiou,) ' and you never want into society, or to the play, nor to cencerta ah I if I had but known your name' . while aha thus playfully reproached her as tonished husband, eho took from around her nsok a chain of rubies to wiieh .waa suspended a diminutive sill: pursa, from tho latter she draw aftveftranc piece in a littlo frame of gold. It is the sxae one,' said she, putting it into Frederick's hands. ' Tha sight of this cherished piece of silver gave ma a sapper and a roof to shelter me, until the next day, when at uiyjrequest.it was so zrrangsh that I could keep your fortunate gift it his na ver for a moment left mo. Ah I how happy I was when I first saw you in the street of St, Honore with what joy I ordered my coachman to otopI was nearly frantic with agitation and delight, and I imtaediately a dopted tho only pretext I could so sudden ly think of, to get you into tho cariisge. I had but one fear you wight be married tliad that been the casa youTouId never
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