mm mmmmjk I have sworn upon the Altar of God, eternal hostility to every form of .Tyranliy over the Mind of Man." Thohias Jefferson PRINTED AND TUBLISIIED BY. II. WEUB. Volume VB. JBIiOOMSBURO, COLUMBIA COUNTY, JPA. SAtfUteBAY,- 1FBBRUAWY 4, 18431 ' Number 41 fjFFlOE OF THE DEMOCRAT Opposite St. Paul's Church, Main-st TERMS s The COL UMBIA DEMOCRAT will bc published everu Saturday morning, at TWO DOLLARS per annum payable half yearly in advance, or l wo uotiara Fifty Chits, if not paid within the year. 7?Vb subscription will bc taken for a shorter period than atx months ; nor any discon' linuancc permitted, untitjttll arrearages 'arc discharged. ADVERTISEMENTS not exceeding a square will bc conspicuously inserted at une uouarjor incjirsi inrce insertions nnd Twr.nhJ-fi.vc cents for event stibse quent nsertion. icy A liberal discount made to those who advertise by the year. LETTERS addressed on business, must be post paid. POETRY. "THE LATE REMORSE OF LOVE." BY MRS. CASS. Come back, my own departed one,- Would I could lay my check Onco moro upon thy hand and weep The love I cannot speak? Alas ! I knew not half thy worth Till death was on thy brow Come back, and tell my breaking heart It is forgiven now. I deemed that thou wcrl harsh and cold And many a warmer smile, Shone round my path but thine alono Was true that mournful while, I made thee sad wilh'look and word Oh ! how these memories roll With lava track along the depths Of my .poor, wretched soul. V i 1.-... 1. J 1 1 n t niitfnl ntt.eilci mti.ltl . Have love with fonder zeal; But what they are and what they were, Time sternly bids mo feel. Through all the'dark, bewildering dream Thy love was still the same, A gentle, anil unnoticed light, Yet still a quenchless, flame. Oh, bitter is the grief ihat wakes My passing midnight's gloom? Oh, misery, but to know that lovd When hidden by the tomb I I pine to meet it when the day To other eyes is bright, And watch, and weep, and pray, till wanes The lone and dreary night. Forgive 1 forgivo ! thy blessed world Holds not a thought of care, Ann all my vain remorse can fling No shadow on its air; But by the love that first was thino Come from thy realm ofjrcst, And with thy soft, low accents breatho Teace to my tortured breast. Come once but only once again Let thy dear voice be heard, And speak, amid my aouls's despair, One little soothing word. I know thy love, I know thy worth, And 1 would be thy slave Could I but open onco again The portals of thy gravel Froai tlio D cmocratic Review. HARRY BLAKE. A BTOIlt or CUlCUMBTANTIAI.KVIlir.NCF, rOUSDKI) OIT FACT. by Tim AtTiion or "lucv cuawfokd CHAPTER. V S . t I . i un me tngni proceeding execution, m the bar-room of the Blue Horse, were as scmblcd half a dozen menj most of whom had been there at Blakes quarrel with 1TF t.lrt till" I . wiukiiuc' a tun i and melancholy group they were. It might have been the ab sonce ol thciolly face and merry voice of old Garret Quackcnboss, who was gone to Albany, to lay in aotock of substar.tials, to keek up the well known gastronomic cha aclerofthe Blue Horse; or it might have been tho great size of the bar-room, with its murky corners, whoso darkness was scarcely relieved by the dim light which flickered up from a dying fire, aided only by the sickly flame of a single candle; or it might have been the nnnroachinff end of a one wjio had so lately been among them lhat had this chilling effect on their spirits. But certain it is, that rarely had the bar room of the Blue Horse contained so dull a party. Somehow or other, they had gradually drawn close to the fire, and, as the night had closed in, and the wind railed about the old house, their conversation had assumed a sombre character, and they whispered in each other s cars, strange stories of robber tes, murders, midnight assassinations, and even of Ghosts, and on this subject one of them was positive, having had a private ghost in his own (ami y for vears an aunt iiriwc-iuuri,r-c5tcj!rV7'rrctijoiTi.-r-n mutj-: who haunted a hen-house on his father's place; and what was remarkably, after her ate visitation, ten eggs, an old game cock, tho patriarch of tho barn, were miss ing; showing that ghosts weie partial to eggs, and not particular as to tho ago of poultry. Another of them mentioned in a confidential way to tho whole company, thai his grandfather had walked a mile in a dark wood, one very stormy night, in compasy with a ghost, which behaved in a very civil and gentlemanlike Tnannct; so much so, lhat the old gentleman up to the day of his death asserted, that ghosts were i very ill-used chss of beings, and that, for his part, he wished thai many people who pretended to be their hellers onlv were as good as they were. From this topic the conversation gradually wandered off to Har ry Blake and his trial, aud his approaching death. 'Don'l you think they might pardon him?' inquired Caleb Grayson, who Was one of he parly, and wha had been sitiing among them, without taking any part or showing any interest in their conversation until it touched upon the subject of Blake's oxecution, but then ho seemed keenly alive to it, and with his features working with intense anxiety, he repeated his question: Don't you think they mighlt I wish they would. Do tell me Bomo one, What do you think?' 'I heard thai Mary Lincoln's father did his best for him, but it was of no use,' re plied one of those addressed. 'But you must not griove about it so. You couldn't help being a witness against him. Even Harry said so himself.' The old man's face brightened, and something like a smile passed over it, as he said. 'Did Harry say so? Well, I'm glad of that; I'm glad of that, for it makes me very sad when I think that it was I and Walton who put him where ho is indeed" it does.' 'It was no fault of yours,' said tho man, and you mustn't let it trouble you. I'm sure I should have done as you did, Ah! here comes some one.' Tho last words were called forth by tho sound of a horse clattering up to tho house Then the loud voice of a man was heard bawling out for some one to take his horse, and in n few minutes a tall man, unknown to them nl, entered tho room, with a ohor1 whip in his hand. There was little in his foatntcs, or tho appearance of his person, to encourage familiarity, for his complexion was swarthy and sallow,and his expression anythir.g bill prepossessing; and his dress was coarse and soiled, as if from hardH travel. He passed a moment, and looked about mm, as hn entered the roornt and then stri dings across it, drea chair directly in Iront of Hie fire.in tho midst of the astonish ed group, and held his feet to the blaze 'A threatening night, friends,' said ho at length, addressing lliern. There was sopiethingfn llic stern sinis ter eye of the man, snd his haggard, repul sivo faco, which gave a momentary cheek to the conversation, and no one answered him, but ho went on. 'Go on, don't lei me stop talk. On with you. I want to break in no man's humor, Ive an odd humor of my own, for I've heard that there is a man lo be hanged to-morrow, and I ve come fifty miles to see it. 1 was at tho trial, and now I'm come to see if he will wear tho same bold faco when he dies that he did then.' So you weie at tho trial?' said Caleb Grayson, who was leaning with his elbow on the "table, and cheek resting on the palm of his hand, and looking gloomily in Hie lire. 'Ay, I was, mv man,' said the stranger bluntly; 'and I saw you there. You wero the witness who swore f that you saw him slab Wicklifi'c. IHwas at your elbow at the lime. Your testimony did for him.' JhooldJman half slatted from his seat, and turned, exceedingly pale, at the same time pressing his hand across his eyes. At rfi,a,'MVu!mv-aeitatcd voice: r nui iuuiu a man u9.' . . j f go, and my answer was on oath. I did see him slab him I'm suro I did. 'J hen, of course, it was all right. For my pari, I'm gald he's to hang. I shal be glad when he is out of the way. Had heenjon tho jury, and known only what you slated, l would liavo brought in the same verdict.' J he old. man looked at him sharply, as ho asked. What do you mean? What else do you know? iKnow!' 'repeated the stranger, looking carelessly up, and drumming with his whip upon his boot. 'Nothing. What could I know? You saw him murder the man, didn't you? You swore to that. should think there was liule more to bc discovored.' 'True, true ' replied the other. Yct this is a strange story of Harry's, and even now he persists in it, and in asserting his innocence. I'oor fellow! I always lo"cd that boy ns my own child I, I who have brought him to this end. Poor little Mary Lincoln, too! it has killed her. Thank God, she is in her grave. 'It's better for her. Of course ho'll insist to the last that he is not guilty,' said the stranger. 'There's always two ways of dying. Some confess and throw themselves "on tho mercy of the aw. Others keep their mouths tight, and accuse it of iniustice to the hst. Tho first hopo for pardon, through its clemency. l he last hope it, through the fear which every man has of shedding his blood. Harry Blake is no coward,' replied Grayson. 'He say'a he's ready to die; but that he is innocent. Tho lovo of life must bo strong in him, for until now I nover thought that he would lie.even to save his life. But ho is not innocentno no, ho is not; for I saw him do it I saw him. 'I ho love of life is very strong. It must be, or Harry Blake would not lie.' A slight, sneering smile flitted across the faco of the stranger, as he turned from the speaker, and looked among the dull em bers of the fire, without speaking. It was a dim, dreary room, and its distant corners were lost hi darkness, and the frame of the stranger, as ho sat between the nndrons, threw a gigantic, spectral shadow on the wall, that seemed to havo something omin ous about it, aud taken.in, connection with the glnomy nature of tho conversation and ino cold lndiheronce of tho stranger, and his wild forbidding air, seemed to have thrown a chiH on all about him. For as c sat there, burried in deep thought, with his eye-brows knit and his lips working, as with suppressed emotions, those who had hitherto hugged tho fire began slowly to widen the distance between themselves and their iH'omened visiter! to scan his - person, as if there were more in it than had met the eye, and (o watch his tall shadow on tho wall as if there weie something about it moro than appertained to shadows in gen oral, bull they spoke not, until the ob ject of their solicitude, as if concluding a long mcnt'.l discussion, drow a heavy orcath, and rising said, 'Well, let him die; It's as well. Oth ers have died in the same way.' Turning to a sort of under-barkeeper, who officiated in tho absence of Garret ho said. 'See to my horse, will you? And now show me to my ioom, and wako me at sunrise. I shall not breafast hero. Those collected about the fire watched him as ho followed the attendant out of the room, end shut the door aficr them. 'What io you think of that man, Mr. Jompkinb? said ono of them to a small man in an ample vest and contracted small clonics. Come, come, none of that,' aaid the small man, with an air of suspicious stub borncss. 'Don't bo trying to make me commit myself by asking questions.' As he spoke he fixed his eyes obstinately on his own finger nails not lhat they were particularly clean or ornamental. 'Can't you speak v our own mnd. mnn said the other pettishly. TS well then,' said his companion, 'IT tell you what I think. I think, said he sinking his voice, and placing the back of hi? hand lo the corner of his mouth, by way ol indicating the extreme of confi dence, 'I think he won't be drowned' 'Ah !' said the small man, 'if that's all. 1 think so mvsc f. And having settled this matter to their mutual satisfaction, thevrose to go. a mo lion in wnich they were followed bv ull except Caleb Grayson, who.long after they wero go ne, and the room was silent nnrl desciled, sat there, with a heavy heart, ai ino pan winch the law had forced him lo take in the legal murder which wo3 to take place on the morrow. At last ho started un as ii a sudden thought had struck him. and finding his way to the stable, saddled hi horse and rode off. T. . -rvi . . . ii was a uurii uigni. mack c ouds were drifting across the sky, obscuring it, and to gcther with the tall trees and forests which in places-overhung tho road, rendering pitchy dark. In defiance- of the threatening . . . . . O ' ' look ot the sky and the obscurity of the Mad, the old. man kept steadily on fur sp.v eral hours; neither pausing to rest his beast nor to reiresh tnmself, until it was broad daylight, when he arrived at a large wood en building. Stopping Tor tho first time ho fastened his horse to ihe gate, and cros sing a small yard, ascended a flight of stepi and entered tho hall. A guard was pacing un and doAvn dm- and under hun, on a wooden bench sat an old man reading a worn out Bible. 'Can I see Blake?' demanded G ravsnn of the old man. 'Yes, yes, I supposo voii can.' renlicil ho, putting asido his book; 'I've order m admit his friends a sad business a nad business and he tho flower of the country round. Ah, neighbor Grayson, who wnnbi have thought it! Oaleb Grayson made no renlv to dm . marks in which the old man indulged, un til he opened the door of the room or cell, and pointed to Blake,, soatcd at a small wooden table within. Blako rose as the old man ontored. nn,i extended his hand to him. 'This is kind. Calob.' said lie. a , afraid that you alone among all mv Trimi,!.. would not call to soo rao; for I knoir. uni1 you think of me.' 'Ah! that's tho reason, Harry, that I could not come,' replied the other sadly. 'I knew that I" had brought you to this, ond I could not bear to come and look at my work.' 'Well, well, it's all iast, and God knows l'vo lillle lo live for now' poor Mary she's gone no matter, tio mailer; the wprs is over and you rriusil't Jay it lo heart, Caleb you acted for tho best, and we'll' ndtfalkorfl." ' ' 'But we mtisl talk : of it, we must,' ex claimed the old man. 'In spile of al) that I fell, it's whit I came for. it I would die easy, I must know iho truth and' f have come here, Hairy, to beg, lo conjure, you to tell it.' ' ' You have heard it already,' said Hurry, sadly. No; no, Harry, I have riot; I know f have not,' said he, 'but you will tell it to" me know. Harry Blake turned his head away, and was silent. 'Hairy, my dear boy, said the old man, crouching at his feet, and pressing his.fpre head against his knees, 'my own dear boy, do confess to me. If wi. Premier mora 'hap py a life that is nearly spenf to have my statement eonfirmcd fiom your ptyn iip.s,r-T Don't be afraid of me. Harry;, for here ,1 swear, in the presence of the God who made us both, that I will not reveal what you tell me. Indeed I will not. Come. Harry come.' 'Caleb,' said Blake, passim? his hand . o j kindly over, (he old manta head,, 'from, my , soul I pity you; bvt I cannot lie.' ' roti pity me." said the old man, ril ing. 'Am the one lo be pitfed ? No,', oaa vs-iHatrrirnorelleveJt,. ,eay Irjjajn-r I you will. With my own eyes, Harm t saw you commit that murder. , Indeed I did indeed I did!' Blake shook his head ; 'You think so, I know you think so; I'll do you that justice But your eyes deceived you. It's useless lo dwell 0.1 this now. You have done what the law made your duty.in telling what ypu, be. neveu to oe truth. 1 should have had to do the same myself; and I freely forgive you," io no, Harry' said Grayson with child ish querulonsness, 'this will not do. Whys will you not tell the truth? Tou cannot be saved now. All hope is past. Come there's a good fellow. You met you quarrelled words "grew high he attacked you and finally you -yon slabbed him. Hal hal that was the way of it, wasn't it? A man will do many things when his blood's up., which ho wouldn't at another limn. v. T.. A Will hot blood couldn't bear all that ho said. It was natural and I think pardonable; indeed I do.' He placed his hands nn llh,!-.'. shoulders, and looking imploringly h, ,1,(8 face whilst his voice changed from ?ta sumed tone of vivacity to one.cflhp. deep- """bss. -itarry, wasn't it i mp my own dear boy, wasn't it so? You know you quarrelled with him at the tavern.' 'I did, indeed,' said Harry, gloomily, God forgive me for i(.' 'And .you -cworo that you would tu revenge if it cost you your life. 'It was an impioue sneonh V rQ!:!i Blake in a grave tone, 'and fearful!,. i, .:. been visited upon mc? , . lou leu the tavern ' continued n-.,,. son eagerly, 'took the sme road which he iidu mhen ; camo up with him- Anu :ounU turn deadT'said Blako. 'I'll not believe it1! h's , , ' , .... claimed the old man striding up Ba down the room with his hands casped i0!other Ita not true. Oh! Harry, h'8 10rribIo io go to the grave porsisiing jn a iie. Hark!' said Blake, as th , persons .pprouch.ng (So door, were heard! .11 s the hour, and ihov Good bye!' ' s 'r rae' 'One word Hairy!' exclaimed .,. man; 'are you guilty!' Nol'roplicd Blake, wi.t, ... ... cmphusU. LJrest The next monism dm .i. t and Blake was summoned to go forth. wnuuston next week.