THE STAR OF THE NORTH. B. fft Heaver Proprietor.] VOLUME 7. THE STAR OF THE NORTH IS PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING BY R. IV. WEAVER, OFFICE— Up stairs, in the new brick build ing, on the south side of Main Steert, third square below Market. TEH M S Two Dollars per annum, if paid within six months from the lime of sub scribing ; two dollars and fifty cents if not paid within the year. No subscription re ceived for a less period than six months ; no discontinuance permitted until all arrearages ■re paid, unless at the option of the editor. ADVERTISEMENTS not exceeding one square will be inserted three times for One Dollar and twenty five cents for each additional in sertion. A liberal discount will be made to those who advertise by the year. T3EES3SF 'SEBEEST From the Little Pilgrim. THE KUPK-WALK. BY HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. In that building, long and low, With its windows all a-row, Like the port holes of a hulk, Human spiders spin and spin, Backward down their threads so thin, Dropping each a hempen bulk. At the end an open door; Squares of sunshine on the floor Light the loug and dusky lane; And the whirring of a wheel, Dull and drowsy, makes me feel All its spokes are in my brain. As the spinners to the end Downward go and re-ascend, Gleam the long threads iu the sun; While within this brain ot mine Cobwebs brighter and more fine, By the busy wheel are spun. Two fair maidens in a swing, Like white doves upon the whiug, First before my vision pass ; Laughing, as their gentle hands Closely clasp the twisted strands, At their shadow on the grass. Then a booth of mountebanks, With its smell ol tan and planks, And a girl poised high in air On a cord, iu spangled dress, With a faded loveliness, And a weary look of cute ! Then a homestead among farms, And a woman with bare arms Drawing water Irom a well; As the buoket mounts apace, With it mounts her own lair lace, As at some magician's spell. Then an old mnn iu a tower, Hinging loud the noontide hour, While the rope pods round and round, Like a serpent at his feet, And again iu swilt retreat Almost lifts him Irom the ground. Then within a prison yard, Faces fixed, and stern, and hard, Laughter and indecent mirth ; Ah ! it is ihu gallows tree ! Breath of Chrisliaii charity, Blow, and sweep it from the eatth! Then a school-boy, with his kite, Gleaming in a sky of light, And an eager, upward look; Steeds pursued through lane and fielil; Fowlers with their snares concealed ; And an angler by a brook. Ships rejoicing in the breeze, Wrecks thai float iu unknown seas, Anchors dragged through faithless sand; Sea-fog drifting overhead, And with lessening line and lead Sailors teeling for the land. All these scenes do 1 behold, These and many left untold. In that building long and low ; While the wheels go round and round, With a drowsy, dreamy sound, And the spinners backward go. T A Young Man's Character. No young man who has a juei sense nf his own value will sport with bis own character. A watchful regard to his character in early youth will be of inconceivable value to bim in all the remaining years of his life. When tempted lo deviate from strict propriety of deportment, he should ask himself, Can 1 afford this? Can I endute hereafter to look hack upon this I It is ot amazing worth to a young man to have a puie mind; for this is the foundation of a pure character. The mind, in order lo be kept pure, n u*t be employed in topics ol thought which ere themselves lovely, chas tened, and elevating. Thus the inind hath in its own power tho selection of its themes of meditation. If youth only knew bow du rable and how dismal is the injury produced by the indulgence of degraded thoughts—if they only realized how frightful were the moral depravities which a cherished habit of loose imagination produces on the soul— they would shun them as the bite of a ser pent. The power books to excite the imagi nation is a fearful element of moral death when employed in the service of vice. The cultivation of an amiable, elevated, end glowing heart, alive lo all the beauties of nature and all the sublimities of truth, in vigorates the intellect, gives to the will inde pendence of baser passions, and lo the af fections that power of adhesion to whatever is pure, and good, and grand, which is adapt ed to lead out the whole nature of man into those scenes of action and impression by which its energies may be most appropriate ly employed, and by which its high destina tion may be moßt effectually reached. The opportunities lor exciting these facul ties in benevolent and sell-deaying efforts for the welfare of our fellow-men, are so many and great that it really is worth while to five. The heart which is truly evangeli- benevolent, may luxuriate in an age dp like (bis. The promises of God are inex ■ pressiUy rich, the main tendencies of things to marmlMly in accordance with them, the extent of moral influenoe i* so great, and the effects of its employment so visible, that whoever aspires after benevolent action and retches forth for things that remain for us, 19 the true dignity of bis nature, can find fiee scope for bis intellect, and 11-inspiring 'heme* for the heart BLOOMSBURG, COLUMBIA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY. NOVEMBER 1* 1855. TIL IS IIONI V DIGGER. * A LEGEND. In a ietired part of Yorkshire Wolds, stood | some years ago. the Castle of Lonnsbnrougli, an ancient seat of the noble house o( Caven j dish, which had long been in such a state of desertion and decay that it has been though; expedient to demolish it altogether. At the commencement of the great civil war, on the Sir Charles Hotham taking possession of Hull for the Parliament, it had been for sev eral years, a place of refuge r or several wealthy royalists. For this reason perhaps, or from others more valid, a tradition had long prevailed in the neighboring village, that mar.y hidden treasures Had been dis covered at different times about the house and grounds of I.ounsborough Castle. The noble owners, of course, treated these ru mors with contempt; and never took any steps for asserting their manorial rights, or investigating their supposed claims. About the middle of the last century, the charge of the ancient domain was commit- ' ted lo a man ot the name of Christopher Hobson, who with his w'le and two daugh ters, constituted its so'e occupants. The fe males were occupied in keeping tho house in decent order, whilst Christopher, or as he was commonly called Kester, busied himself in the gardens and grounds—so that in case of an unexpected visit (rom the noble own ers, which sometimes happened, the family were not wholly unprepared for iheir recep tion. Kester Hobson was in the habit of spend ing two or three evenings in a week at a small public itouse in the adjacent village, where a few of the neighbors generally as sembled. At the period wo are speaking of, many of the lingering superstitions of the dark ages still maintained their ground io va rious parts ol the kingdom, and in none did they keep their hold with greater tenacity > than in tho village of Yorkshire Wolds. At their fireside meeting", the conversations fre quently turned on various old traditions re specting Lounsborough Castle ; and amongst other legends equally veracious, it was af firmed that on one occasion, towards the close of the civil war, a band of round-head GuerrilUs under Harrison, having suddenly eurprised the castle, where some Baltic mer chants of the king's party had taken refuge, the unfortunate cavaliers had been obliged to Lurry their money, and having afterwards made a desperate resistance were all killed in defence of their precious deposits. So strong was the attachment of these worthy traders, to their beloved wealth, that, even after death, their shadowy forms had often been seen hovering round the obscure places of the castle domain, like the ghosts of un buried heroes on the bank of the Styx. In dued, it is well known lo have been one of the most deep-rooted opinions of the olden lime, that if any person had buried rnonev or jewels during his life time, his spirit could take no repose till the treasure was discover ed. It may seem strange to some readers that at this late period of history, (here should have prevailed "such utter darkness in the people,"' but the author of this little uarative is well assured of their reality.— llaud ignota loquor. The oft repeated and well attested stories made a deep impression on Hester's mind; and often when sitting alone in his chimney corner, lie. would muse upon those marvel lous circumstances, and reflect with bitter ness on his own misfortune in being doomed to live in poverty amidst these countless hoards of wealth, and perhaps day after day, to tread it under his feet, without being able to roach even a single noble—but compelled to toil through his whole life for a miserable pittance ofa few shillings a week. One win ter's night, having retired to bed full of these melancholy thoughts, he fell into a deep sleep and dreamed that a sober, business-looking man, with a lodger under his arm, and a pen behind Ins ear, appeared at his bed side, and after giving him a solemn sad sepulchral look, sucli as becomes a messenger from the tomb, delivered a portentous injunction to the following effeel:—Christopher Hobson was commanded to depart immediately for London, and when arrived there was order ed to walk backwards and forwards over London Bridge for an hour, on three succes sive nights, immediately after dark, during which he would hear of some important event that materially concerned himself and family. This vision was so much more vivid, con sistent and striking 'huti an ordinary dream, that it left a deep impression on Hester's mind and he thought of little else the whole of the following day. But though sufficiently su perstitious, yet the expense and trouble of u journey to London were at tint lime mutier of such serious import, that lie could not bring himself to resolve on so perilous an underta king on grounds that he could not help feel ing lo be rather equivocal. The next night, however, the same visitation was repeated, and in terms and in a manner still inure aw ful and peremptory. His mind now became quite bewildered, and he began to think se riously that an admonition, thus solemnly re peated, could not with safety bo disregarded. But oil the third night the sceptre appeared again, and delivered the same injunction with such an alarmiug and menacing aspect, that on awakening the next morning, Christopher hesitated no longer, but began instantly to make preparations for his journey. Haloid his family that an affair of importance which he conld not then explain, required his im mediate presence in London and begged them f) defer asking any question* till bis re lorn. He next applied to an old friend, a neigh-1 boring farmer. atnl a tenant ol'lii* mnter. lor the loan of a steady old ho*se which lie had sometimes borrowed lor short journey*, as suring him with a misterious air, that he was going on an afFair of the greatest imiiorlauoe, in WWrtl*. if he suneeeded, die favor he was now asking should be amply compensated. He then took out Irom a small secret store which he had long been accumulating, a sum which he sufficient for the journey; and thus equipped and provided, be boldly set nut for the metropolis. Though the autumn was far advanced, and tho roads consequently very,bad he arrived in town without any accident, and put up at a small inn in the borough. to which he had been recommended. Though he had never been in London betore, he resolved to lose no time, but proceeded immediately to busi ness. The night after his arrival, therefore, he bolook himself to the foot nf London bridge; and as soon as he heard St. Paul's clock strike seven, by which time it was quite dark, he commenced his wulk, backwards and for wards over the bridge. He continued this exercise till he heaid the same clock strike eight; when, having observed nothing more remarkable than the coming and going mas ses of a busy crowd of passengers, he return ed to his hotel. He was much disappointed at the ill success of liis first ee-uy, as two more nights still remained. The serortd night passed exactly like the first, and he be gan to be a little disheartened. He commen ced, however, the labors of the third night with renovated hope; but when lie heard the deep-mouthed bell again 101 l eight o'clock, ' his spirit sunk within him. With a heavy > heart he prepared to quit the bridge, inward ly cursing his own credulity and the devices ol Satan, who he doubted not, had lured him on to this ill-fated expedition. It may be necessary to remind some of our readers, that at the period we are speaking of, the entire length of the London bridge was flanked by two rows of houses and shops, I and a great retail busbies was carried on in thissingular situation. On otic of these shops, j decorated by the sign of a negro boy with a pipe in his mouth"!*' Kester Hohaon happened to cast his eye as he was about to quit the \ bridge—and it reminded him that his tobac- j co box was empty ; (or the necessities of es tablished habit will duly recur, even amidst our sorrows and disappointments. He en tered the shop therefore with a view of pur chasing a small supply; and found benind the counter an elderly, sedate looking qua- Uer. whose contented atil! well fed person in dicated the prosperity of his calling? Whilst weighing the tobacco, he surveyed our York shire man with some earnestness, and 'hen, in a tone which expressed a sort ot good-na tured curiosity, aecostpd him as follows: "I have observed, friend, with some surprise, dial lor several nights thou hast employed thyself lor a considerable time in walking to and fro across this bridge, and thy anxious looks seemed to expect something very par ticular; 1 am afraid thou hast been waiting tor some person who has disappointed thee and failed in his engagement. If any advice j or information of mine can be of any use, as thou seemest to be a stranger in London, 1 should be glad to offer tbee any assistance trt my power." Our hearts are never more warmed than by an offer of kindness in a strange place and amongst strange people.— Renter Hobson possessed, perhaps a greater portion than usual of that mixture of simpli city and cunning, which bos been so often ascribed to his countrymen, but though al ways a little on his guard, he was not quite proof against this open and disinterested kinu ness. He expressed Ins thanks very heartily, but declared he was quite ashamed to confess his business in London, and the nature of those night-walks which had excited the at tention of the honest tobacconist. By de grees, however, his inquisitive friend got out of him, that he had. in fact, been deeply mor tified and disappointed; that he had expected to meet with a very particular person or oc currence on the London bridge; and, in short, that he had undertaken a long, expensive, and laborious journey to London, merely at the instigation of a dream. He suppressed, however, his name and resilience, from a vague apprehension that such disclosure might by possibility expose him lo ridicule, or some other unpleasant consequence. The Quaker heard this strange confession with much surprise, and then replied with great solemnity. "It strikes me with aston ishment, my good friend, that a man of thy decent and sober appearance should have come lo a journey of two or three hundred miles on such an errand us this! I thought such vain immigrations and weak supersti tion* had long h.m o been eschewed by ail men of sense, and abandoned lo children and old women. It is deplorable to think that thy parents and instructors did not lake care to root out all such idle fannies in early lile, and then wimlom might peradventurn have come with years and experience.— " However," continued he, "it does not be come me to erect mine horn uloft, and look down upon the weak and ignorant, because my own lot has (alien in better places. If 1 have been hitherto enabled lo turn aside from all such vain devices, is it not because having been brought up, as it were, at the feet of Gamaliel, I have learnt from ( he les sons of a wise lather the ways of truth and soberness' And yet," added he, smiling at Christopher, " 1 can assure thee, friend, that if I have constantly kept clear of all such de lusions, it has not been lor lack of tempta tion. I have *ll my life long, been a great dreamer; and olten my midnight visions have been so express and surprising, that it haa required the strong arm of truth and rea son (o resist their allurements. Even this .T Truth and It iff lit God and our Country. verv last night 1 was beset with this tetnpta lion. I dreamed that an elderly man, in a snuff-brown coat, with a pen stuck behind I his ear, earne to my bedside, and told me, ' that if I went into a hack garden, belonging 10 an ancient castle in Yorkshire, and dug the ground under the stone seat of an old Gothic summer house, I should find a great treasure. "Now." continued lie with a look of conscious superiority, "if I had been as foolish as thou, I might have neglected my business and set off on a toilsome journey, in search of ihis imaginary treasure " Here Hester Hobson who had thus far thought the good Quaker's harangue rather prosy and te dious, began M puck up hie ears as Ihe an cient poets express it;'for he was well aware there was exactly such summer house as this, ina retired garden in the grounds of Lounsborough castle. His countenance be trayed visible agitation: but unfortuuate'y he stood in a dark part of the shop, where the light did not fall upon.his face. He could hardly forbear shouting with exultation: but hy a violent effort he suppressed hia emotion, and replied as indifferently as he could that it was true he had been guilty of a great weakness, but he hoped he should be wiser for ihe future. It is useless to say that Kester treasured up this momentous information carefully in his mind, and soon after look leave ot hia valua ble friend. "We shall soon see," thought he exiiltingiy, ' which of us two is the wiser man in his generation." Tho next day he took his departure for Yorkshire, and in a hnut a week rpached his home in safety.— 011 the very night of his arrival, lie dismiss ed his family to bed HI good limp, telling them that lie had some accounts lo settle, which required him to be alone. When the household was all sunk in repose he look a spade and a lantern, and repaired iu silence to the old summer house. He removed the stone seat, took up the pavement, and after digging about three feet deep, he fell the spade strike against some hard substance ! His nerves were alt agitation—but be went on and soon drew out a largo eari.'iern jar of the capacity of half a bushel, fastened with a wooden cover H • eag-irlv broke it open, and founo it quite filled with gold coins of the reigns of Elizane h, James the first, and Charles the first. He instantly conveyed it home, and got it safely locked up HI his desk without the least interruption. | Hester Hnbsou'a wile was, like himself, famoii- for pic.ismoo ay.l reserve, and to her therefore but no' his daughters lie deierm ined in rev