D. A. BUEHLER, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR VOL. XVIII.-16.1 (From the Loi&vine Journal. LANDING OF THE FIRST AMERICAN LINE 'AT VERA CRUZ. „ • ST 0.1117. • OATTIIX, T. S. ARM? At the signal stand", the stofboats, which hid been previously fieighted with the (rent line, oole f isting of artillery. opproached the store. They were covered by lightdraughted guteboanranchor ed in the immediate vicinity of the beach. Mean while, lilt for her own amusement; the inimitable tittle .Spitatie" shipped her anbhor, rounded to, and threw her shells at the great curds of d'Ulloa, like a child at play; casting its marbles at the for trees of a giant. The castle rened back in angry reply, but did not succeed in Inflicting any pun ishment upon the tantalising aggressor. Soon a prolonged shoo from the “irmy afloat" announo. ed the unllirling of the American flag on the ene my's ehov‘end the excited soldiery were men .dashing from the boats unmindful of the surf in their ...goner to form and rally around the "star spangled banner." The signal flag is in the sky, Ten thousand hearts ate heating high, Ye of the foremost line draw nigh I Huai! Prepare to land—take heed—stand by l • Ham !- The surfboats touch the shiP's tall side, Along thW lee they smoothly ride, .Apd yonder waits your gallant guide— Huns! Down—down—dmeend with rapid stride— Hama - Ya 'bent r t f en brow Ile ter---tie as Musel Crowd close, sit down, from stem to prow, Hu= l Mee yowler fleet stretched out supine From east to day's remotest cline! What yokes shout! what Wight blades shine I How ! Their eyes are an ye—form the lino, Hume! Brave friends, thanks for sour greeting deer, it nerves Us for the irate seVern; W here is the starlag 'tis here ! Hum! Unfurl the colas—give hack the cheer! Huzca I Now watch the war-worihr owe again All eyes upon the tlarahies main ! Irk"land"--'tia .land"—theaignal plain, Hum I Cut ca—give way with stalwart strain— num I itirt.O. , antre•the barita-ply, ply the oer-•- The billows rave—the war flop roar— 'the death shells burst behind—beim ; Hums ! Deed to the strokes-strain for the idiom- , Maus The bill hills Asir with ihunder riven, Around ye were red bolts ere driven, Above ye dome the bird oyeraven, H urea ! Strive, brothers, as ye nc'cr have striven, Haas The fixemnet surf-boat nears the lend, !the ground —Hit (kelt the gallant band— 'hey bilttat the eutf--therizain the sand, • Hum • Tbey mount the deep with eight hand; ..Hciapta THE NIGHT AFTER THE BATTLE A correspondent of the N. 0. Bella gives 'the following brieldescription igthe field of Buena Vista on the night after the hauls : "Saddened more than I would desire to admit, I moved over the field which Was so recently the scene of such bloody strife, and terrible was the evidence of that day's carnage. The shattered bodies, which made death appear to the poor sufferers a thing to be desired, and the horses, whose riders in many instances lay Motionless beneath them, were struggling in the ago nies of death. I perceived many a hole band silently moving about, in whale faces were strangely blended the desire to find, and the fear of finding, the friends whom they sought among the dead-9n arriving at that part of the field near the mountains, to the left of our position, where a portion of our little' army received during the day the fiercest - charges of the enemy, I saw the bodies of many a fallen foe, and,felt bow dearly our brave artillery made the MP emy suffer for the gnus they were com pelted to abandon, I saw many of my countrymen cold and motionless where they fell, mingled with the enemy---defi- Mice tuition their brows, their swords still grasped in their hands, and I knew they were undaunted and unwavering to the end." A TANKiDi PEDLAR BIT. A Yankee Pedlar, one of that great tribe who have learned the art of skinning a entered the store of a Yankee mer chant in Lowell, and wanted to sell him noise rixor strops. The Merchant &di ced having any thing to do with him, and ordered him out. A Yankee pedlar is not got of so easily. - There is no getting rid of him, while there is a chalice of wearying your patience, until you make erporchwee. He's like the.immorial "Jim, Bags." He knows the value of •pesaiii and questions; end won't leave of his noose unless he's well paid for it. 'Come Milder, now I awew Sot trade'aid Two “Yggekt do nothing alba kind." - "Lock here;' now--I'd take any goods you've get here in payment. " "No you *wet.' • • 4 , 0 get oat; tell you what I'll do. Fit sell these at the lowest whole ' sale prices. and take any of your goods at your retail figures. That's Ur.' "Well, B s you're so pressing,. I'll take twelve doxen, that sr ill be $72, which you shall take, out in any goals I choose, that I have in the store." I s'pose you aint got nothing here That Leant dispose of somewhere." Make out your bill and receipt it." . The pedlar did so, and called on the merchant to select the goods he chose to . ft ay him in, whereupon the merchant hand ed him eta dozen back and said: "I 'retail :these at one• dollar each—we are now square. I bought your goods according to agreement at your wholesale price, and I sell them to you again at my r tail price:" The, pedlar looked d)ggers ut he had to put up with the mo ifi • tion of being overreached, which w s s greatest trou ble, and made him righidawn savage. Three essentials to a false story-teller-- a good memory, a bold face, and fools for his audience. BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. DT I. T. HEADLICY. While this multitudinous army lay a round Boston; Without any, idea of disci pline except to shoot straight, or any defi nite aim beyond the mere determination to fight; the ofilcera who cointnanded'thein; lookiig on things in a clearer light, were divided as to the best coulee to be pursued. Putnam, with his usual promptness and boldness, and Prescott, were for tiltattle if they could get the militia behind in trench meets. 'f,hey, thought, and justs 9, that an engagement, unless peculiarly disastrous to the Americans,' would give them confi dence in themselves, and kindle a spirit of resistance throughout the land.. The oth er officers were fearful of a defeat, and dread ed the result of one on the army andeoun try. The bolder counsel of Putnam and Prescott, however, prevailed. The English, in the meantime, feeling the restraint of theieposition, laid two dif ferent plans to advance into the open coun try, but wore in both - eases turned backby the precautions of the Americans, who were constantly informed of their • move ments, - At length, abandoning every oth -of-project, Gen. Gage directed 4 4ll his ef forte to force - a paasage byttm - peninindu and PM,'f‘caPlCo 43 l7;: - .'lltis•-IT.Pi•Rs4 I I k . • • *-411V - ktikritieieltieg (refit' LW ' to Weer, wished on - thelforth eylse Mys tic and on the South by Charles river, while a narrow channel separates it from Boston on the east. The spot where this penin 7 sula joins the main land is only about a hundred yards across, and is called the Neck. Nrom this point rises Bunker's Hill, and a little farther in towards Boston, Breed's Hill. To prevent the egress of the British by this Neck, the planof which they had receivedfrom friends in Boston, the American officers resolved to fortify Bunker's' Hill which completely command ed. it. Col. Prescott was ordered to occu- ' py this height with a thousand Men, and intrench himself strongly there. Having assembled on the Green at Cambridge, they leaned their heads for a few moments on theirfirelocks, while the solemn prayer rose on the evening air in their behalf, and then took up their line of march. •By some Mistake, or purposely, they went far ther amend occupied Breed Hill. At mid night, those stern-hearted men stood on the top, while Putnam marked out the lines of the entrenchment. By daylight, they had constructed a redoubt about eight rods square, in which they could shelter them selves. At four o'clock in the morning the people of Boston and the British% officers . ware waked up a heavy cannonading from an English ship-of-war, whose command er first perceived the position which the Americans had taken up during the night. The English °filmes could - scarcely believe their eyes, when they saw this redoubt al moat over their heads. An immediate bat de was inevitable, for this height command ed Boston, and soon as batteries could be erected there, the city must fall. All now was bustle and confusion, fur each one knew that in a few hours a most deadly conflict must take place. Crowds began to gather cth the shore, and thousands of eager eyes were turned with intense anxi ety, and wonder, upon that low, dark re doubt that crowned the summit of the hill. In two hours' time all the city, and the ships of weir and floating batteries, were pointed against that single silent structure. The city shook to the thunder of cannon, and that lonMy height fairly rocked under the bombs and balls that tore up its side. It absolutely rained shots and shells upon its top; still all was silent above and about it; yet one near enough to catch the sound could have heard the heavy blows of the spade and pickaxe, and the constant fall of centres those hardy men tolled, as they never toiled before. Ileedkas of the iron storm that milled around them, they eon iinued their work, and by noon had run a trench nearly down to the Mystic river on the north. The fire • was too hot to let them work in the open field near the bank, while Putnam saw at a glance that this must be closed up at all hlsards ; for the enemy marching swiftly along that sumoth open ground, could take hint in the flank and rear. This unprotected spot . was a meadow, freshly mown, and studded thick with haycocks, all ready to be gathered into the barn. • Aldo& rail fence crossed it-From the hill to the river, of which Put nam, with that quieknese of invention ho had acquired in his long partisan warfare, iinmediately• took 'advantage: . Heordered the men to take the rails from another fence near by, and running them through this one, pile the hay between. In a moment the meadow was black with men, some (tarrying rails on theirshoulders and souse with arms full of hay, and all hurrying on ward. •in a short time that single fence looked like a huge embankment. This completed the line of defence of the left wing areterititticiidirelt extended front the. Mystic riVer.up to the redoubt. Behind the redoubt lay a part of Me right wing, , the . ., test being flanked by the houses Charlestown at the base of the hill. Thuo stretched-over and dOwn the hill, like a a,iuge cord, lay 'the Ahacrican army, ner ved with the desperate valor of freemen battling on-their native hills. ThetrentendOus cannonade, which had been kept up all the forenoon, having fail ed to. dislodge the enemy, it was resolved by the British commanders to .. carry the heights by assault. Putnam, in the mean time, had strained every nerve to add to his means of defence. Almost constantly on horseback, he was riding hither and thither, superintending every thing, and animating the men by words of encourage ment. During the night, while Prescott was hurrying forward the works on Breed's Hill, lie spurred furiously off to Cambridge after reinforcements. The thunderof can non at four o'clock in the morning quickly brought him to the saddle, and in a few minutes he was galloping up ,to the re doubt. Ordering up a detachment, to throw up. a work on Bunker's llill t which commanded the highs on which, the - anAor, lay, he again 'flew to Cambridge to hurry. up the !roops. The Neck, over which he was compelled to pass, was at this time swept by the artillery of a matt-of-war and GETTYSBURG, 11. 1 FRIDAY EVENING, JULY 2, . .1847. floating batteries. Through this fire Pet neat boldly galloped, aud"to his joy found that Stark and Reed were on the way to rhetie of action. Disposing these troops tote o beet advantage; be cooly awaited the tern to onset, which he knew was props ring'for him. The,day was clear; not a cloud rested on the summer heavens, and the heated earth seemed to pant under the fierce rays of the noonday BUM As be stood and gazed with a stern, yet anxious aye, a scene prevented;itself that might have moved the boldest heart. The Brit ish army had crossed the change!. end now stood in battle array on the shore. In the intervals of the roar of artillery...which played furioUsly from Morton's Hill, were beard the thrilling strains or martial music, and the thirring blast of the bugle, while plumes danced 'and standards waved in the sunlight, and nearly five thousand,bayo nets gleamed and shook over the dark mass below. Just then a solitary horse man, of slender form, was seen moving swiftly, over Bunker's Hill, and making straight for Putnam. It was Den. War ren, the gallant and noble-hearted Warren, who had gazed on that silent redoubt and his bravo brethren there, till he could tio longer restrain his 'feelings and had come to share their fate. Putnam with t :en- enmity_ for_ w hich wan xe .r table, itrt , mediately offered to put himself under his let*rs. • "No," said Warren, "I come as 'a volUnteer, to show those rascals that the Yankees can fight. Where_ titian I be most needed t" The former pointed' Id the redoubt as the most covered spot.— "Tell me," said Warren; while his lips quivered with the excitement, "where the amid toil be heaviest - "Go then,.to the redoubt," said Putnam, Prescott is there, and wilt do his duty—if we can hold that, the day is ours." Away galloped War ren, and as-he' dashed up to the entrench ments, a loud huzza rent the air, and roll ed in joyful accentselong the lines. Nothing could exceed the grandeur and excitemeat of the scene at this moment.— Strung over that hill and out of sight lay fifteen lendred sons of Liberty, coolly awaiting the onset of the veteran thousands of Englaid, tnd sternly resolved to prove worthy of the high destiny entrusted to their 'card, - 'The roof ofitteittinsesef Bos ton, the shores, and every church steeple were black with spectatoro, looking now. upon the forming colums upon the shore, and nbw st the silent entrenchments that spanned the heights. Many of them had eons, and brothers, and husbands, and lov ers on the hill, and the hearts of all swell ed high or sunk low, with alternate hope and fear, as they thought of the strength and terror of the coming shock. Oh, how the earnest prayer went up to heaven, and with what intenee love and longing each heart turned to that silent redoubt. At length they English beipin to advance in two dente columns. 'Putnam then rode ', along the lines, kindling the enthusi asm of the men already roused to the high ' est pitch, and ordered them to hold their fire till the enemy was within eight rods, and then' aint at their alai:thumbs. On came the steady battalions, ever and anon halting to ht the artillery play on the in trenchment,and then advancing in the most perfect order and beautiful array. To the spectator, that artillery appeared like mo ving spots of flame and smoke ascending the slope, but not a sound broke the omi nous add death-like silence that reigned around the heights. But for the flags that drooped in the hot summer air over the redoubt, you would have deemed it desert ed. But fltulthing eyes were there bent in wrath on the enemy as slowly and steadily they ascended the hill, and closed sternly in for the death-struggle. Tiny were no ble troops—aid se in perfect order, with their gay standards and p olished bayonets floating and flashing in the sun, they ad vanced nearerand nearer, their appearance was imposing in' the extreme. Stopping every few yards, they delivered their deep and regular 'collies on tho embankments, but not a shot' replied. That silencn was more awful thin the thunder of cannon, for it told of carnage and death slumbering' there. At length, when the hostile columns 'were almost agimst"the intrenchments,the signal was given, and the stern order"Stax," rung with startling clearness on the air. A sheet of flame replied, running like a flash of lightning aloag that low dark wall. and the Bent rank of the foe went down, as if suddenly engulpbed in the earth. But those behind, treading Geer their dead compan ions, pressed steadily forward, yet the 'same tempest of fire Mote their-bosoms, ; and thersunk amid their fallen cOntrades.' Still the steady battalions nobly struggled, to bear up against the &idly sleet, but all in rain; rank after rank went down, like the sand.bank as Beeves over the stream, and at length,•fudons with rage and_Atett pair, the whole army broke amid Bed for the shore. Then went ups longand loud hurls-from that lade redoubt, Which Wes echokithewhole length ofthe lines, and aneterid' hr thoviands ofvoiees from the .rederttedsteepha, and heights of Boston. The .41111ComfitUsi fro Opt novei halted till .therinatihett the shore, where their com 124Anitkattetripted3O rally them. )Vhil* they drive seen riding to and fro amid the broken ranks, Putnam put spurs to his horse and galloped off, in his shirt-sleeves, after reinforcement . But the Neck over which they must pass was now swept by such a galling fire that they refused to stir. Carried away by intense anxiety, he rode backwards and forwards several dines, to show there was no danger, while the balls ploughed up the earth in furrows around him : but few, however, could be' induced to follow, mid he hastened back to the scene of action. The spectacle the hill now presented was terrific beyond description. That re doubt was silent again, while the dead and dying la r y in ghastly rows near its base. The imposing columns were again on the march, while Charlestown, which in the interval had been set on tire by the enemy, presented a new feature in the appalling scene. Tt roar and crackling of the Lanes were tinctly heard in the Ameri ciunittes, and t smoke in imniense vol umes rolled fast a furious heavenward, blotting out the sun id shedding a htrange and lurid light on the dead-covered field. "FEARLESS AND FREE." The British commander fondly hoped that the 'Mae would involve the heights, con fusing the- deadly aim of the Americans, and covering the assault; but the-blessed breeze changing, inclined it gently seaward, leaving the battle-field unobscured and open as ever. Again the drums beat their but , ' tied charge, and the columns pressed gal lantly forward. Advancing more rapidly than before,-they honked only to pour in 1 their heavy trollies. and Shed hurrying on over their dead and wounded companions, who had fallen in the first assault, seemed about to sweep in a resistless flood over the intrenehments. On, on they came, shaking the heights with,their heavy muf fled tread, till thtty stood - breast to breast with that silent redoubt, when suddenly it again gaped and shot forth flame like some huge monster...._k_er_nmosesmt it seemed as if the atmosphere was an eleinek. of fire. It was a perfect hurricane of fire - and lead, and the firm-set ranks disappeared like mist in its path., The living still' strove manfully to stem tho fight, and the reeling ranks bore up for awhile amid the carnage led by as bailie officers as ever cheered men on to dead. Hut that fiery sleet kept driving full in their faces, smi ting them down rank shat rank, with such arful rapidity that the bravest gave way. Thelines ham kuckwarda, th ,n sprungto_ their places again, again rolled back; till at hot, riddled through and through by that astonishing fire,Me whole mass gave way -like a loosene cliff, and broke furiously down the hill.' Again the triitinphant quit zas" rocked the heights, and the slopes of that hill turned red with flowing blood. A sudden silence follnwed this strange uproar, Airokon- only. the smothered groans and cries of the aoudad, iying i d() al most within reach of th ubt. Ors that fatal shore the English commanders rallied for the third and last time their disordered troops, while the Americans, burning with indignation and disappointment, drove home their last cartridges, The scene, the hour., the immense re sults at stake, all combined to fill the bo som of every spectator' With emotions of the deepest sadness, :milk and fear. The smoke of-battle hung -hi light wreaths a round that dark rpOubt, while near by, Charlestown was' one 'imiiirof flame and smoke. The slope in•front of the hreAstwork spotted,Wait iththe slain, and, ever and anon came the booming of cannon as they still thundered - on the A merican intrenchments. The sun now stooping to the western ; horizon, bathed that• hill-top in its gentle light,and the mild summer evening was liasicninton. The hills looked green and beautiful in the dis tance—all_nature was at rest, And it iniento ed impossible that such ; carnage had wast ed there a moment before. Mit another sight Nen arrested every eye: the reformed ranks of the enemy were again in motion. Throwing aside their . knapsacks to lighten their burdens, and reserving their fire, the soldiers, with fixed bayonets, marched swiftly - and stead ily over the slope, and up to the very in trenchments. Only one volley smote them, for the Americans, alas, had-fired their last cartridges and worse than all were with out bayonets ! Clubbing their muskets, however, they stilt beat back the enemy, when the reluctant order to retreat was given. The gallant-fellows behind the hay and fence below still maintained their , ground, and thus saved the rest of the ar my. Putnam, aiding amid the men, and waving his sword over his head, endeavor ed to make them rally again on Bunker's Hill. Findingall hie efforts vain, he burst forth into a torrent of indignation. His stout heart could not endure that the day, so nobly battled for, should be lost at last. He rode'between them and the enemy be fore which they fled, and there stood in the hottest of the fire. But neither words nor example could stay their flight. Without ammunition; or bayonets, or breastwork, it was a hopeless task. - -Warren, too, in terposed his slender form between his own troops and those of the Britiih. Moving slowly down the western declivity of the hill, he, planted himself, all alone, before the ranke, and pointing to the 'motion en their standards, strove, by his stirring elo quence, to'rouse them to another effort.-.- -Carried away by a loty enthusiasm, be re minded them that Heaven watched over their cause. and would sustain their efforts. While he thus calmly Stood, and bent his flashing eye on the advancing battalions. an English' officer, who knew liimesnatele ed a musket from a soldier, end shot him dead in ids footsteps. ' Although the Americans were compelled to retreat aerosa the Neck, 'irhieb Was skterit: brentmett, they ' so ifireidlietriperiu dvely little; and finally look bp their pool , ton on Winter, and Prospeet' Hillse and night - soon-4Sr shut , in the seette. It had been.* tearful 'day—nearly ltio thotetatid men lay fallen across each other ea that hi,ghto fifteen 4nttdred or whota Were'Brii ish soldiers. The battle-field'remained in the hands of the English, bit the victory was truly. - The news spread like wildfire over the land, and one long shout went up, the first shout of liberty ; which the hu man soul lietrd and answered, and shall answer the world over.' •An incident occurred in thin battle which illus trates forcibly the horrors of civil war.. As the British troops were palming through Charlestown to snack the Ameriemis,asoldier entered a house where a man lay sic,(. The young and beautiful wife, on leaving the chamber, met the soldier, who inunediately addressed insulting proposals to her. Finding himselfstently repulsed he resorted to vi olence, when bar screams animal her invalid hus band. Rising from his sick bed, and seining his sword, he staggered into the room, when, seeing his straggling wife in the 4111101 of a soldier he ran him through the body. The miserable wretch fell backward, arid looking„ tip at his destroy r, cried out, "My brother I" At the 143111 e moment he also was reeognired, and with the exclamation. "1 have murdered my brother." the outraged husband fell dead on the corpse ',dare him. These unfortunate brothers were .eotchmen, ono of whom had emi grated to this country, while the other had entered the English - Army. Atter long years of separa tion, they thus met to die-..the slayer and the slain—together. PRETTY G00D......4 western editor de dares that some of the young women who pass,his vitt* in the arks, on the river, are perfect divinities. lie means, says ti northern raper, ark angels. R:. lING I'HE WILL. SlVatts: AIDT. This morning I received a note front-my al i anced bride, Constance Grebe in, request- Mg me to attend at two o'clock that day at the house of her late uncle in Harley-street, Tor the purpose of hearing hie will read.— I had the greatetrt plea ante in' complying With this invitation. I had really begun to fancy that old Mr. Graham .was going to remain perpetually on the earth, like Mrs. Merlotti* "Undying One :" he was-always on the point of death, and always cured, and tenter than ever in the course of a few Iblyto bust month the 'cold water system manned completely to renovate him, but he suddenly relapsed, departed from the world, and left fdlythotisand pounds and a will be himltim. • -Though-Constance Is the pret tiest and Most amiable girl,of my negaint mute, I had determined hewer to marry her while her untie lived; ho had frequently proclaimed her his heiress. but as frequent ly took offence at entmething or at nothing in , her behaviour; '"anti bequeathed his wealth to a hospital, or lunatic asylum. I felt quite easy on the present occasion, for Mrs. Bates,Mr. Orthatt's honse-keep er, Itid given• me' information that. only an • fore---hor-trussuteit--deathr-hir-had , handsomely provided for Constance. I however, that it was my policy to ap pear ignorant of the circumstance, Con stance being very romentie, and Cooskivice's mother very suspicious. At the appointed. tiMe I walked into the drawintroom in Ilvirleystveet.;;;the.very few relatives of the oldgentleman were as eembled. ,There was GOnsisitee._Wkieg as Ilebe might have Vciked ifr Liebe lied over worn crape Or boantiaziio; Constance's mother, looking stiff; cross; and uneasy; an elderly female cousin; and S. 'tripling of the deceased. I feared! übne , or them. I-knew that Mr. Graham disliked his fine lady sister-in-law. deapised "Ike servility of his elderly cousin, and dreaded.the frolics of his stripling nephew. I seated, myself by Constance. and,in a soft to protest my affection and ditunterestudeess. PKnawing the eaprice-of..your unele t my beloved," I said, al havg "very. reopen to 'I conclude that I shall hear yotrark disinher , ited; this, however ,will o_pittle mo ment to me; have entinglt for comfort, though not for lusury,..and, as , the song beautifully. saysl7-,. astiti Iliad in my beast be it sever forgot , , That the wealth , of the cottage is lose." Mr. Chilton.?' said Constance's mother. looking excessively-sneering and shrewish, “that it is pretty well known ihnt my. dimglor. .04 like 1110Wheilifilit uncle's wealth." - _ • ~ filndeeci, , madame!" -1 repilatie-sifilarst Start Of surptiseiol•vae awarelhat stitinteO Was , 1 1 1 11 4 11 : 00 ,kitikei Om' tents of Mr. Graham!. will. - al have heard a eurmise hazarded," sharply interposed the eklerlyeneeim.ithat Mr. Graham was no 4 id his senate • whoa , he made it." • ,• uThe mind must be both base an 4 weak," retorted Constance's mother, 0. which could give credence :to such a ruinor.' l . , And forthwith a sparribg dialogue. took place between the two 'adios., during , which I whispered• Constance a- • page of Moore's poetry done into prose. Temple now entered the room, the so licitor and intimate frieniLef,tbe Ina Mr. Graham ; he was a handsome young maw. and had presumed at one time to .14 his eyes to Constance; be opened the will and We all' became mutely attentive, ' Oh. what a disappointment awaited us I Three thousand pounds were bequembed,to Con stance, (this ,wit* the old hnlow'a idea of handsoine provision!) Five , hundred pounds to thq elderly cousin, ditto to the stripling nephew, email legacies to, the see. rants, and the tOGll4odelf 101118 wealth le found a cold **let oelahliahmeat Air Weal who were not rich enough 19 PAY IL grata. ty for being half drowned. Temple raid the name* of the attesting witnesses. and then refreshed himself with shorty ami biscuits. As be was a Aimed 4-the ly r his presence waa no. restraint ANI-cour versation. &Iliac will ought to: be dispated,", *Did Constance's mother. looking very red;, 01 do not believe Mr.- Glrahent !se tOis stew ses whets be madeit." "I thought." salaam elderly. cribrin With a sneer, "that the mind must be both base sod weak- vrbiclt could' tiro 'credence to such a eurmise." «Dear - mother* taid - Constance. "do uot be discompoW; pant very, Well cow tented---1 shall not be Oita a _pttionleiss bride." ConstancatbanilialoulVeisifil. lotto white band.—laiffeeted not to see it. "My dear Mimi Grahani " I said, "do no not believe mope cruel and selfish as to wish to plunge you intirpoverty." •!I thought•you said that your income was sufficient for every comfort," remark ed the stripling nephew. • 1 did not condescend to answer him, but continued: oifflo, Constance, though it breaks toy heart to do so, 1 give you back yotiefreedom, saying, in the pathetic words of Haynes Rayly, ..May your lot in life be happy, undisturbed by thoughts of toe!' I was just making Mr the door, leaving Constance looking more like Niobe than Ilebe, when Temple said, "1 think the party had better remain till 1 have read the codi• cil." I restated myself in amaze, and Tem ple forthwith read that the testator, being convinced tharhe had received nobenefit from the cold water system, revoked and reseinded - his legacy to it, bequeathing the same to his beloved niece, Constance Gra ham. "Constance ! dear Constance !" I ex claimed, in the softest of tones. N But Con- stance looked neither like lick. itor Nio - - be, but as stern and severe as Medea. 1 pull attacked Temple. "Is it legal,' said, "only to read part of a will r "I read every word of the will," he, re plied, "and, having greatly fatigued hny self by so doing, I trust that it was perfectly to refrrsh myself with a glass of sherry before I read the codicil." I was going to utter some further re marks, when Constance's Mother °Good morning. Mr. Chilton!" in a tone of voice which left me no alternative bull ON THE RELIEF sENT TO IRELAN to echo her leave-taking, and iG descended' the stairs, pursued by a smothered laugh Irons the party in the drawing-room, re turned home in very low spirits, and en tered my adventure or rather mis-adventure in my diary, deducing front it this valuable pie - Cc of advice to gentlemen In search of fortune :- ) "Never believe that a will is con cluded till you have inquired whether there is any codicil to it " THE BOLDIER'S WIFE, A THRILLING SKETCH One of the most striking cases of pres ence of mind _and self-possession ever re corded, came to light in a trial which took place some years since in Ireland. A wo man travelling along n road to join her husband, who was a soldier, and quartered at Athlone, was joined by a pedlar, Who was going the same• way. They entered into a conversation during a walk of some hours ; but as the day began to wane, they agreed that they should stop fur the night at some house of entertainment, and par sue their pedistrian journey the next (lay. They 'reached an humble inn, situated in a lonely spot by the road side ; and, fatigued after a lung days walk, they were glad to find themselves under shelter of a roof. Paving refreshed themselves with the sbbstantial supper before them, they ex pressed a wish silently to retire. They Were aluwaintn...the travellers' room, and went to rest in their respective beds. The pedlar, before retiring, had called the land lord:aside, and given into hie keeping the peek, %Ouch he had unstrapped froni his •back,tilt morning, telling him that it con tained a considerable amount of money, and much valuable property. They were oot-long Piled before the pedlar fell into ssound sloop; but the poor woman, per bps. from ever-fatigue, or from thoughts of -smog ber, husband the next day, lay Awake. Aeouple Of hours might have passed, when she saw the door slowly opened, and a person slowly enter, holding a light, Irhich he screened with his hand. She : instantly recognised in hi in (meanie young men she, hati seen below—son to the land lord. He advanced with stealthy step to the bed-side of the pedlar, and watched him for4-lew-etrosids. lie then went out, ;and . entered with his brother and father, who held in his hand a large pewter basin. They went on tiptoe to the - bed-side, where thb - pedlar lay in deep sleep. - One (4 ., the young men drew out a knife, and 4 while the father held the basin so as xoTeeeive the blood, he cut the poor vie tim's throatfrom ear to ear. A slight, half ' diblis i greamwed all "was still, save the cautious ; movements of the party "bngaged in theletal deed. They had brought in with hem a large sack, into which they direst "the unresisting body. The poor lornatin lay silently in her bed, fearing-her turn *mild come next. She heard low -mutterings among the men, from which she soon gathered that they were debating whether they should murder her too, as they ilnired she might have it in her power to betray them. One . of them : said that he was sure ; she wu faidaeleep, and there was no occasion to trouble themselves more ; but to make sure nf,thia, being the cue, one came to hex 44;side, with the candle in his hand, and the other with his knife. She kept snob perfect Cenunand over, herself, as not lo:hetray, in her countenance any sign that she was cobseiouis of what was going mi. Tho . coodle . was passed close to her eyes; the.nnife was drawn across close to her threat; she never winced, or showed, by any movement of feature or of limb, that she. 'apprehended danger. 'So the incur whispered •that.ehe was soundly asleep, that nothing was to be feared from her, and .went mit of the room, removing the sack .whiehedutained the body of the murdered' How•long,must the night of horror have seemed to that poor lone woman I How frightful was its stillness and darkness.— Thelpresence ,of mind which had so as tonishingly enabled her to act, a part to -which she owed her, life, sustained her all through the trying scenes which she had topic She did not hurry front her room at en unusually early hour, but waited till she had heard all the family astir for some time. She then went down, and said she believed she had overslept herself, in con sequence of being greatly tired. She ask ed where the pedlar was, and was told that he was in too great a hurry to wait forher, but that - ho had left a sixpence to pay for herbreakfast. She sat down composedly to that meal, and forced herself to partake with apparent appetite the food set before her. She ap peareduneonscious of the eyes whiehotrith deep scrutiny, were fixed upon her.— When the meal woe over, she toook leave of the family, and went on her way, with out the least appearance of discomposure or mistrust. She bad proceeded but a short way when she was joined by two strapping looking women ; one look was sufficient to convince her that they were the young men ; and one thought, to assure her that she was yet in their power, and on the very verge of destruction. They walked by her side, entered into Conversation, asked her where she was going, and told her that their road lay the same way; they questioned her as to where she had lodged the night before, and made most minute inquiries about the family in habiting the house of entertainment. ller answers were quite unembarrassed ; she said the people of the house appeared lobe decent and civil, and had treated her very well. For two hours the young men continued by her side, conversing with her, and watching w jilt the most scrutinizing glances any change in her countenance, and asking questions which, had she not been 'fully self-possessed, might have put her off her guard. It was not until her dreaded com panions had left her. and she saw her husband coming along the road to most her, that she lost self-command, which she haik" successfully exercised, and throw- Mg herself into his arms, fainted away. ( Life is brief; let all therefore endeavor to uweeten, not poition the cup. TWO DoLaud PER ANNUM. !NEW SERIEW-N 0.6. A litle more than two hundred years ago a few pilgrims, after being tossed by the tempests upon unktiown seas, dung to the western shores of the Atlantic ocean, They were for the most part persons who , had known the comforts of life in its lion lorable walks, and had been reared where plenty smiled. But the comforts of life, the smiles of plenty, and r3wards of hon or were left behind. Destined by fate to a nobler sphere, their bosoms swelling with great thoughts and great hopes, they sought a wider liberty among the tumbling billows and careering winds of a strange ocean, and upon the difficult mountains of a virgin hemisphere. Now the seed of those heroic tacit and women are number less, almost as leaves of the forest, and have built tip a great nation, the like of which never before existed upon the face of the earth—a nation yet only the germ of what she is to be ; whose eagle, steadily gazing upon the sun, yet rises with untir ed pinions and courageous speed. towards the empyrean. Iler loundations werelaki upon the principles of universal justice and phlanthrophy,. and the dews of hest. ven have fallen thick in blessings on her, Who through n cloud, Not of war only hut Jetractioilei rude r - Guided by ruins and inatclikeA fortitude, To peace and truth her glorious way hoe plotigh'd, And on the neck of crowned ti rtune proud, Brest read God's trophies a oi.l his works pursued." It is a touching, ahnost a sublime spec tack, to behold this young people giving alms to the Old WMId. When we were weak and hungry they levied taxes of our substance, and took us hence to be tried by unfriendly juries. Their messaggs of charity to us were shill loads of armed men to make war upon as and subdue us/ We now bestow upon them a magnani mous and Christian retribution. An old classic fable relates that a Hainan virgin, whose sire was doomed to starvation in prison, kept him alive by milk from her own breasts. lie "rendered hits hack the debt of blood borne with her birth." The story has proved prophetic, and has been fully verified by the streams of holy char ity which young America bestows on aged . Europe. We have before shown ourselves worthy to meet her in battle, but she with drew her baffled armies scoffingly. In literature and oratory we have shown our selves not unworthy of comparison with her, but she passed us by as an unprofita ble acquaintance, without At length we have found a way by which the hearts of our people speak unto the hearts of another, as deep calleth unto deep, and the great fountains of European feeling nre broken up. Not a breeze that sweeps the Atlantic but comes freighted with the incense of deep gratitude. All old Memos of hate arc nt once overshad owed as by the white wing of an angel. Is not this trimnph of humanity as' far above the paltry triumphs ,of diplomacy and of :wins as the sublime heights m God's glory are above the defeated and plotting spirit of evil ? Our birth as a nation was signalized by a written Constitution, which calmly asserted the rights of men t it Was a column erected in the wilderness, but conceived with such breadth ofintellect and grandeur of sentiment as soon brought the philosophies and governmental arts of the civilized world to gaze upon it and render homage toits merits. Our noblest triumph under that constitution is a triumph of reli gion, of eharity, of love. shall we not have strength of vision to behold in these our auspices as a nation I Turning away from these, how can we consent to grdvel in the low arts of intrigne and the vulgar Emcee of brute force f TAKE 'EM few days ago at the rendezvous of Capt. Chase in Tenth Ward, a woman with a chubby child in her arms appeared and demanded a eight at the offs , cer ; Lent. Coodloc presented himself.— "so, sir you've clapped your dirty aOjer trappings on my husband, have yifir , "who is your husband, madam," de• mantled the Lieutenant. "Billy McMurtee, and a boold boy he in, no plane ye. But it's a dirty -thing to you, my pretty man, to take him from his wife and children." "Cun't be helped," Bald the Lieutenant, "it's too late now." "Then take the baby, too," cried,: the woman, as she forced the child into the arms of Lieut. "Take 'em alt, I'll semi you four more." OW she fan at a rapid pace, leaving the unfortunate Lieutenant with the new re cruit equalling in his arms, Doubtless of its value to Uncle Sam, he aunt it home by the father.—ein. Corn. . THE KENTUCKIAN IN Bosuns,--The Louisville Journal tells the following good one: A few weeks ngo a well known master mechanic of this city, who was so• journing a few days at the Trenton House, Boston, walked into the dining niom at the summons of the hell, rind seeing in the long row of chairs one that was turned up against the table to indicate that It was ap. propriated to sonic particular individual he deliberately took it and commenced his dinner. In about five minutes a young dandy in whiskers and moustache, walked up behind him and remaaed inn supereil• ions tune : "Sir, you have got my plate." ..liave I?" said Jim, carelessly. "well you are perfectly welcome to it," handing empty soup plate over hie shoulder. A loud laugh ensued, and the mania the moustache brat a precipitate retreat. TRAVELLINO. - 4 strong; laity &HOW, who preferred begging to work, - celled ott a gentleman in the city, and asked trig meld victuals and clothes. The man asked him what he did for a living: "'Vet much," said the hilowtoeloier travelling." "l ' rnvelling l Then you can treeerpiet! , ty well r "Oh, yes," said die bagger. al t ati`rogy good at that." "Well. then, " said thigettOtatefittOullY opening the do or, lens erstgreatifeittel," Threes alias) thou sugiu. loom h) from homo—iho ash ONO -101,11hiltefr the housewife. • , , •;