D. A. DOMED, EDITOD AND PROPRIATOR.
VOL.
SHERIFF'S SALE.
IN pursuance of a writ of lenditioni
Exports:, issued out of the Court of
Common Pleas of Adains county. Penn
sylvania, and to the directed, will be ix
posed to public sile onJWday the 29d day
of June flutist 1 o'clock, P. M. at the
Court.hot in the Borough of Gettys
burg, the following Real Estate, to wit :
A Tract of Land
situate in Liberty township, Adams coun
ty. Pa., containing
179 ACRES,
more or less, adjoining lauds of Joseph
Shtiltz, Hugh Sweeney and others, on
oterettoted a •
OAK AND A HAL/ STORY
LOG
DWELLING 1101,TSE t
and other out-bnildings. About 15 Acres
of this tract is cleared and in a state of cul
tivation ; the residue is covered with good
timber.
No. 2—A Tract of Land,
adjoining the aforesaid, containing
60 C
more or leas. being principally Timber or
Mountain land.
No. 3—A Tract of Land
situate in Liberty township, Adams coun
ty; Pa., containing
280 -IC RES,
mors or leas, adjoining lands of John Flohr,
John Ferguson, and others—also being
Timber or Mountain Land.
No. 4-A Tract of Lund
situate in Hamiltonban township, Adams
county, Pa., containing
60 .1 C R E S.
more or less, adjoining lands of Barnabas
Reerer & Co., and being west of
the “Virfinia Milk" of Mrs. Mary Myers
--also 'limber or ;Mountain Land.
The first above mentioned three Tracts
being seized and levied on as the proper
ty of SAMUEL 211(1 JOHN DOPHORN, and the
fourth and last Tract being seized and lev
ied on as the property of JOHN DUPHOUN.
far Persons purchasing property at Sheriff's
sale, will have to play its per coat. of the purchase
money on the clay of of sale.
BENJAMIN !±Clil RIVER, Sockarr
klhariff's Office. Gettysburg. tt
Huy ►U, 1848.
EXAMINATION - OF THE
PUBLIC SCHOOLS.
A N Examination of the Schools of the
r, Borough of Gettysburg will take
place spring the present month, commen
ing as follows :
At the School-house of Miss Matilda
Scantlan, on Monday Morning the 26th of
June inst.
At the school-house of Mr. Hobert S.
Paxton, on Monday afternoon following.
At the S,• h oul-house of Mr. Win. W
ith
crow, on Tuesday morning.
At the School-house of Mr. Thomas
Martin, on Tuesday Afternoon.
• At the School-house of Mr. \Valli= Bo
gle, on Friday morning and noon.
At the Sehool-honse of Miss Ann M'-
Curdy, on Thursday afternoon and eve
ning.
At the School-house of Miss Sarah G.
Lord, on Wednesday afternoon.
The parents of pupils and the citizens
of the Borough are respectfully invited to
attend. By order of the Board.
H. J. i4CIIREINER, Secretary
June 9, 1848.—td
NOTICE.
ESTATE OF GEORGE WORTZ, DECD
To Accept or Refuse.
STATI ur PIM is,l AT an Orphans
Assets Cuelrer. Court held at (let-
tysinug, in and. for
the County of Ad-
• amron the 23d day
of May. A. D.
1848. Before Wil.
ham N. Irvine, Esq.
President, and his Arlociates, Judges, dm assign
ed, Jac.
ON MOTION the Court grant a Ride
on all the heirs and legal Represen
•tatives of Gamma Woarz,late of Conowa
go township, Adams county, deceased, to
wit : Sarah, intermarried with Michae l
Ryder,and now the widow of said Michael,
residing in the County of Lancaster, Pa. ;
intermarried
Mary, with Jacob Ryder,
who ie deceased, leaving issue as follows,.
to wit : • Molly, intermarried with Isaac
Stoner ! residing in Lancaster county, Pa. ;
usterrnarried with Jacob Peters ; Ca
/titanic, intermarried with Henry Fier
snan ; Jacob Ryder, jr. ; Sarah. intermar
vied with William Ehrhart, and now the
of said William ; Elizabeth, inter
married with John Ehrisman ; David Ry
.der ; John Ryder ; Susanna, intermarried
with Joseph Illack,all residing in the coun
ties of Preble and Montgomery, and State
of Ohio ; Jacob Worts • Mareue • Worts
Pete; Wait; wliose ;hare has been as-
Aped to Jacob Worts ' • Catharine, inter
married with tihritithin Stouffer, residing
is COlumbilina county, and State of Ohio ;
and Ilenry,Wortsi—to be and appear at
an Orphans Court to be held at Gettysburg,
and• for the county, of • Adams, on the
third Mondo 4f Augastnext, to accept or
refuse to • accept the Real Estate of the
said deceased, at the valuation made there
of, agreeably to the Intestate Laws of this
CornmieniMahh.
By t he Couit;
B: HAMILTON; Clerk,
May 9,1184807.4 k • -• •
NOTICE.
it_rpres of Administration on the
Millie or gyo, ER STIR, late of Con
swag° township, dee'd, having been grant
ed to the anbitoritier, residing in said town
-410 doe
..., 4 44. v . is hereby given to all those
Manilla to said estate to make payment,
and dtowitaving claims upon the estate to
presentitbe same, properly authenticated,
for settlement. JESSE WALTMAN.
May se, 1849.-01 dcfner.
From the National En.
THE BURIAL
Mournfully, slowly, the funeral train
To the village ehurchyani wended ;
For Death had bound, with his icy chain,
A human heart—and all earthly pain
With its fast faint beating ended.
Mournfully, slowly, they wound their way
By the marble, mow enshrouded,
And the fresher mound, where sleeping lay
The maiden that passed hut yesterday,
Like a Maria darkness shrouded.
Mournfully, slowly, the cypress old
Waved its arms, the chill wind breasting,
As they lowered their burden, pale and cold,
And covered it deep with the churchyard mold,
And prayed for tbe aphit's resting.
Mournfully, slowly, the funeral train
Left the buried ashes sleeping,
Till Death in the village should breathe again,
And another flickering taper wano,
Midst the sound of wail and weeping.
Mournfully, slowly, I moved along,
And my faithless heart grew colder,
As I thought that all of life's mighty throng
Must melt away, like a hallbreathed song,
And in k:arth's dark bosom moulder.
Hopefully, helpingly, beamed a ray
On my heart, from the Throne Eternal—
" The Earth hut receives its earthly clay,
While the soul from its prison soars away
To beauty and love supernal."
MIDNIGHT MUSINGS
0, for thine arm to lean upon, my God—
Hear thou my soul's complaint !
Tu tread alone life's dark and dreary road,
Maketh my spirit faint.
And there are thorns shout my erring feet,
That wound them as I go :
I look fur help into each face I meet—
None understand■ my woe.
There is a heavy mist shove the way
I'm travelling alone,
Which blinded, no. and shutteth out the ray
That bra moth from thy throne.
This mist bath quenched my lamp that feebly
Hath quenched at lung ago-- (glowed,
And'noW the danger.; of the toilsome road,
liuw can i seem . kuuw 1
I only know that I am journeying fast
To the eternal sea;
The roma in that lestle'll there moot soon be pest—
lleath—s Jerk orroam to me!
O, that my lamp were trimmed and burning bright
Ib guide me through t h e gimom !
The Mint dispelled, and all vei r stMi light
Batween me and the tomb
The darkened path where comfortless I stray,
Once Israel's Shepherd trod
Would I could eve Ilia Miami:ma in the way,
And walk 11l thorn to (I,xl.
PA RTI N G.
When forced to pin from those we love,
Though euie to meet to-morrow•,
We yrt u kind of anguish prove,
And feel a touch of IP , T foW.
Out, oh! what words call paint the fears,
When Irorn 'hose friend• we seter—
Perhaps to part for months—for yezus—
rerhapd to port forever!
AN ECCENTRIC MINISTER.—There lived
a century since, in the city of Boston, an
eccentric pastor, known familia'rly by the
name of "Johnny Morehead." Jtconven
tion of ministers was held in Boston, and
met in his place of worship, to whom Pres
ident Edwards, then settled at NortliMnp
ton, was appointed to preach the opening
sermon. In consequence of the had roads
he did not arrive in time for the commence
ment of the service, and, after waiting, a
nother minister was procured to preach.
The service (mm111(1)(441; and while Mr.
Morehead was otTi.ring up the first prayer,
Mr. Edwards came in. with his saddle
bags on his arm, and walked up quietly to
the head of the aisle, where he sto.id while
the prayer was being made. Johnny went
on praying for the blessing of. God on his
eminent servant, whose absence they had
so much reason to regret; th6king for his
great and distinguished mercies conferred
on his church by his pious and useful la
bors, and supplicating the blessing of God
for him, that he might long be continued a
great and alining light to the church of
God in this waste-howling wilderness in
which in his providence his people were
planted ; and, opening his eves, he discov
ered Mr. Edwards standing below. lie
went on: "But, 0 Lord! thou knowest
that, great and good as thy servant is, he
is not to be compared to his wife !"
[N. Y. Knickerbocker.
RICVCILUTIONARY INCIDENT.--Ilere la Iln
anecdote of the Berlin Revolution :--"On
the evening of the lath ultimo, a body of
the citizens who were engaged in construct
ing a barricade, broke into a house in the
Oranienburgstrasse. They penetrated to
the first floor, and, forcing open a glass
door, found themselves in the presence of
a venerable old man, with long white hair.
One of the mob inquired who he was.—
The old man answered, "My name is
Humboldt." 'How! are you the cele
brated Humboldt ?" The old man an
swered, "Tam Alexander Von Humboldt."
Instantly every hat and cap was doffed ;
the mob made many protestations of regret
at having inconvenienced their illustrious
countryman, and placed at the door of the
house en honorary guard of the citizens.
Tuts.--Time is the preacher; Change
is the tone he harps on se he hurries along.
Change ! he shouts as he lays his hand on
the mountain peak and powders it to dust.
Change! he thunders as he twists the hale
oak up by the,roots, Change! as he scat
tars the thistle-down to the wild. Change !
he whispers as he turns the beaver of the
young man and points with a grin to the
totteringlitep of the aged. Change !as he
brushes the vermillion from the cheek of
beauty ; and Change he grumbles forth
48 be lays his hand on the shoulder of him
of _hroad shoulder and iron nerve, and
points to the cave. Change lis his buit
word to his ennsaries, when lie sends them
forth oft tbeir, rounds to overturn MA der
“Does the court understind yonio say,
hir. !ones ) , thit'yon saw the edtor of the
'Augur of Freedom' intoxicated f”
"Not at all, air'; Y merely said that 1
ha're seen Mtn 'frequently so flurried in his
mind that' he'aiould 'undertake to out out
copy with the anujbes—'-that's all." • ;
A Faye friend of our' • says that ha and
hie wife always go to bed quarreility ; "and
yet," says 1, "with an:(iiit aqePOZIPM
we never/ out,"
GETTYSBURG, PA. FRIDAY EVENING, JUNE N I 1848.
AN OLD CHRONICLE OF THE CITY
Tho Abbe Leseur lived in the same cen-1
tury with the sad-fated Maria Henrietta—
the extolled of Bossuet—the beautiful sis
ther of Louis XIII. He was curate of the
Church of St. Mederic, or, as it is now
called, St. Mary, which stands upon the
corner where the dirty Rue des Lombards
crosses the Rue St. Martin—a corner a
round which more blood was spilled in
the days +of the Revolution than almost any
other quarter of Paris. It is a queer old
Gothic building, with rich tracery about its
windows ; but the walls are stained with
the damps of three or four centuries, and
the outside is heavily scarred by the bullets
that flew around it in 1832.
Th4eople who say mass at St. Mery
to-day are of the vilest population of life
city ; the beggars who loiter at its steps
are the most wretched of beggars ; and the
priests who assist at the worship of St.
Mery, are, if one may judge from their
looks, the worst of priests.
It was different in the time of the good
Abbe Lesseur ; for then there were rich
houses along the Rue St. Antoine , and no
ble lords and ladies came to say their pray
ers at the shrine of St. hlederic.
The Abbe was dozing one evening, for
he had staid later than was his wont in
his confessional box, when he was aroused
by the rustling of a Stress just beside him.
Turning his eyes to the grating through
which he had listened to the confessions
of his backslidden people, he saw the
delicate, jewelled hand of a lady clinging
to the bars. The Abbe put his head near
er to the grating. to see who was the own
er of the fair hand. He saw a light, grace
ful form, and presently met the eyes, bend
ing earnestly on his own, of the lovely Ara
demoiselle d'Estral, daughter of the pow
erful Baron d'Estral--she who had been
long the sweetest lamb of the Clock.
• Now, it had been sometime rumored in
the city, and the rumor had come to the
Abbe's ears—fur there were gossips then,
as there are gossips now—that the beauti
ful Isabel d'Estral was bound by her fa
thcr's oath to marry. the Chevalier Ver
hais.
"Methinks it is somewhat late for Mad
emoiselle," said the Abbe. "What can
she wish at Such an hour 1"
"Your blessing, Father," said the girl,
"It is always yours, child ; but tell the
first why at this hour !"
want your blessing ; there is no time
for words ; why I dare not tell."
"Then, child, I dare not bless you."
"And you will not . ?"
cannot"—and the Abbe heard the
step of Mrdemoiselle moving from the con
fessional. He opened his box, and, over
taking her before she had reached the door,
drew her into one ot the side chapels which
may vet be seen each side the great aisle
of St. Mery.
"Mademoiselle," said the Abbe, solemn
ly, "you have some strange purpose in
your thought. Is it right that it stay un
revealed !"
The form of the daughter of d'Estral
trembled under the touch of the Abbe.
"Is it strange L want your blessing, good
Father. when to-night is my last on earth'!"
The Abbe trembled in his turn. "It
cannot be."
"It most be," said the d'Estral. "You
know the Baron—that he does not yield."
"And you will not obey, child ?"
"Never; you know the Chevalier Ver
hair—why do you ask ?"
"And the nuptials I"
"Are fixed for to-morrow night."
"Child, I can serve you."
"With your blessing, Father."
"Nay—not yet; I will conceal you
where not even the powerful Baron can
find you."
Mademoiselle hesitated a moment—then
filled the hand of the Abbe to her lips.
The Abbe threw his cloak over her, and
they passed out.
Along the dim streets—there were no
lamps , thon—they passed, keeping close
in the shadOw of the houses. Many peo
ple met them ; one only had known or sa
luted the Abbe. None knew, or seemed
to know, Mademoiselle.
Turning into a dark by-way, out of what
is now the Rue St. Antoine, they stole
cautiously in the direction of the frown
ing towers of the Basilic. At length the
Abbe stopped at a low door in an abut
ment of the outer walls, and leading his
charge through a low, dark passage, left
her in a little room at the end, in the guar
dianship of an old woman, his foster-mo
ther.
Two days thereafter, it was noised
through the city that Isabel d'Estral, the
beautiful daughter of the Baron of the
name, had suddenly disappeared the night
before the one set for her marriage with
the Chevalier Verhais, The Baron had
made for many days unsuccessful search
and vain inquiries in every direction—he
had offered rewards for the, smallest ti
dings, and had given descriptions of the
person of his daughter. At length there
appeared one who had seen a female figure,
of the form described, passing along the
Rue St. Antoine at a late hoot on the same
day upon which Mademoiselle d'Estral
disappeared ; and he further testified that
she was in company with a man' in the
dress of a priest. Another gave testimony
to having seen the curate of the Church of
St. Mederic on the evening in question,
and in company with a female ; and
what was doubly suspicious, the curate
himself had' been recognized in the Rue
St. Antoine. None had ever before sulf
pected the Abbe Leseur of wrong-doing.
The Archbishop summoned him to appear
at Notre Dame. • '
• Two persons appeared, who swore to
the fact of seeing the Abbe Leseut walking
with a lady in the the Rue St. Antoine,
upon the evening of the disappearance of
of The daughter of the Baron, There was,
however. no evidence to identify ;this lady
with . Mapimoiselle d'Estral. StiU, to the
surprise of all, the Abbe frankly avowed
that the person with ;whom 'he had bead
seen was none °the" • than, the miming
daughter of the Baron. He %meld tell
nothing nm. • ' r
. The Biron wasretilil both RUOO
p
sod In' the old ass of thaw-.
"FEARIMSEF. #l9 PEEL"
The next day, the Abbe Leseur was shown
his dungeon in the Bastile. At intervals
for a month, he was urged to reveal the
hiding place of Mademoiselle, but he stead.
ily refused every solicitation.
A year passed away, and the Abbe was
still in his dunpon a new curate Cat in
the confessional stall of St. Mederic.—
Meantime, the Chevalier Verb ais had gone
out of the kingdom—still, nothing was
heard of the lost Isabel.
Three years after, there had been great
changes at court ; the Baron was no long
er powerful ; a new governor was set over
the Bastile, and it was crowded with pris.
oners of state. But the lost daughter of
d'Estral and the Abbe were nearly forgot
ten.
A la d
. same ene . evenieg, and demanded
to see the olclAblie risCai;an""d when the
turnkey came to close the cells fur the
night, he asked to stop with the Abbe.—
There was little. Mire Of such a prisoner,
and the lad stayed in tie cell.
An hour after, when it had grown dark,
the turnkeys in the great hall of the Castle
were startled by a piercing shriek. They I
searched theeells, and the dungeon of the
Abbe was found empty - ; but out of the
window was- hanging r .a broken ladder of
ropes, and below thee appeared some
thing moving on the edge of the fosse.
They ran down with torches; they
found the poor Abbe crushed to death by
the fall. The lad had just strength to say
the curate was inneeent, and fainted.—
They tore open his doublet, to give him
air, and found, to their astonishment, that
it was a woman. They put the' torches
close to her face, and one of the by
' standers cried out that it was Mademoi
selle d'Estral. The poor girl opened her
eyes at the sound—seemed recalling her
senses—uttered a faint shriek, and fell
dead upon the body of the Abbe.
The remains of the poor Abbe were
buried in the cloisters of the old palace that
stood behind Notre Dame ; and, if it is
not removed, you can still read upon a
slab in the pavement of the Church of St.
:Very the. name of Isabel d'Estral.
A GENTLE REPROOF
One day, as Zlicl'ariah Hodgson was
going to his daily avocations after break
fast, he purchased a fine large codfish, and ;
sent it home, with directions to his wife to
have it cooked for dinner: As no particu
ler mode of cooking was described, the
good woman well knew that, whether she
boiled it or made it into chowder, her hus
band would scold her when he came home.
But she resolved` to please him once, if
possible. and therefore cooked portions of
it in different ways. She also, with some
little difficulty, procured an amphibious
animal from a brook back of the house, and
plumped it into the pots— lo due timepher
husband came home. Some covered dish
! es were placed on the table; with a frown
ing, fault-finding look, the moody man
I commenced the conversation.
. "Well, wife, did you get the fish I
bought ?"
"Yea, my dear."
"I should like to know how you have
cooked it. 1 will bet anything that you
have spoiled it for my eating. (Takes off
the cover.) I thought so. What in cre
ation possessed you to fry it? I would as
lief eat a boiled frog."
- "Why, my dear, I thought you loved it
best fried."
"You did'nt think nny such thing.—
You knew better ; I never loved fried fish.
Why didn't you boil it T"
"Dear, the last time we had fresh fish,
you know I boiled it, nod yon said you
liked it hest fried.• But I have boiled come."
So saying, she lifted a cover, and, lo!
the shoulders of the cod, nicely boiled,
were neatly deposited in a a dish, the
sight of which would have made an epi
cure rejoice, but which only added to the
ill-nature of her husbaod.
"A pretty dish this I" exclaimed he.—
"Boiled fish ? Chips and porridge ! If you
had not been one of the most stupid of wo
mankind, you would have made it into a
chowder !'
His patient wife, with a smile, imme
diately placed a tureen before him, con
taining an excellent chowder.
"My dear," said she, ".1 was resolved to
please you. There's you favorite dish."
"Favorite dish, indeolli,"; grumbled, the
discomutted husband ; "Mare say it is an
unpalatable, wish.washy mess. I would
rather have a boiled frog than the whole of
it."
This was a common expression of his,
and had been anticipated by his wife, who,
as soon as the preference was expressed,
uncovered a large dish near her husband,
and there was a large anuAraou, of por
tentous diineneious and pugnacious aspect,
stretched out at full length ! Zechariah
sprung from his chair, not a little frighten
ed at the unexpected apparition.
"tly dear," said his wife, in a kind, en
treating tone, "I hope you will at length
be able to make a dinner."
Zacharia could not stand this. His
surly mood was finally. overcome, and he
burst into a hearty laugh. He acknow
ledged that his wifairas...right, and that he
was wrong, and declared that she would
never again have occasin to read him such
another lesson ; and he was as good as his
word.
THE WISEST THE MOST FORBEARING:4W
order to love mankind, expect but little
from them ; in order to view their faults
without bitterness, we Must accustom our
selves to pardon them, and to perceive that
indulgence is a justice which frail human
ity has a right to demand from - wisdom.—
Now, nothing tends more to dispose ns to
indulgence, to close our hearts against ha
tred, and to',open them to the principles of
humane and soft morality, then a'Profohad
knowledge of•the humeri heart.'AecOrtl
ingly., the wiseitt Men ha*, always been
the moat indulgent.— , Buhver. •
The mind is like a glowing spark. which
when 'suffered to rest is ever danger of
being smothered by the dross and ashes
which life depesites. Itmust be kept con
stand, in tribtiott;lestit Perish ih its youth.
The griever:model , *NM& it•so suitable
to the body. fir it becomes impaifiod by age
is fatal td this wind. '"
IR4AND-THE IMMOVAL '9F MIL SIT-
15EMOB!
the Dublin Freeman contains ! the fol
lowing account-of the departure of Mr. Mit
chell : 4recisely as the prison clock
strociofoug::(onflaturdritiffarnoon) the
convict.van drew up at the front entrance
of Ne write, and was immediately . surroun
ded by two squadrons of dragoons under
the command of Col. Maunsell and Col.
Gordon. In a few niinutes an official,
bearing die warrant of Mr. Mitchell's re
move!, entered the prison and delivered the
same to the high itheriff. The mounted
police and dragoons, 'with drawn sabres,
formed. font deep. round OM :Van, . The
doorway having been opened, Inspector
Selwood gave the word et tbe prisou gate,
, all.is ready:- One. of the Jurnlmis_then
came forth with a bundle of clothes, which
were understood to be the convict dress,
and threw it into the tan. Precisely at
eight minutes past four the gates were o
pened and Mr. Mitchell came forth with
a firm step and firm demeanor. He wore
a brown frockeoat, light waistebat, and dark
trousers, and had a light glazed cap upon
his head, the hair appearing to be closely
cut. His hand and right leg were heavily
manacled, and fastened to each other by a
ponderous iron chain. He cast one quiet,
dignified glance about, and
_recognizing a
friend who called out 'Mitchel,' bowed
and shook hands with him. He was then
assisted into the van, accompanied by four
orfire inspectors of police. The door was
immediately banged to, and the cortege
moved forward at a double quick trot up
Bolton street, and thence by the circular
road to the north wall, where the Sheer
water government steamer was lying in
readiness."
'rho cautions taken to prevent any at
tempt at rescue on the way to the place of
embarkation wore effective. There was,
however, some rioting at Shellville-place,
on the North Strand, where the police
were assailed by a mob, the chief leaders
of which were women. One amazon was
conspicuous by her daring. She Wed
stones and brickbats with unerring gm at
the heads of the constabulary, cursing lus
tily the cowardice of the Men at Dublin,
leaving the fighting to the women. All the
efforts of the police to effect her capture
were useless, and she finally escaped in the
crowd of combatants.
A few hours after the sentence the pris
oner's counsel, who, during the trial, had
been more than once stopped in his line
of defence, by the judge protesting that he
was using language no lees intlamatory
and seditious than that for which the pris
oner was on trial, rose in court to repeat
and justify all he had said. "My Lords,"
he observed, amidst the utmost silence, "I
Wish now
. 0 state that what I said yester
fiti adopt to-day as my own opinion. t
here avow all I have said; and perhaps,
under this late act of Parliament, her Ma
jesty's Attorney General, if I have violated
the law, may think it his"duty to proceed
against me in. that way. Be this act as it
may, I now asssert in deliberation that the
sentiments I expressed with respect to
England and her treatment of this country
are my sentiments, and I here avow them
openly." "Call on the next case," was,
of course, the only reply of the Court to
this declaration, and the ordinary business I
was proceeded with.
[The following severe article appeared in the
"United Irishman," subsequent to the conviction
of Mr. Mitchell, its late editor. The bitter, fearless
tone of the article will serve to give an ides of the
feeling which pervades the Irish leaders who are
seeking to break the English and Irish Union.J
These are solemn days. We are walk
ing the brink of an abyss ; fathomless
yawns the chasm before us ; if our hearts
sink, if a nerve trembles, we fail and per
ish ; if, on the contrary, our souls be brave
and our steps rapid, we will come forth
from the danger triumphant. In these
days cowardice is folly, and courage is wis
dom. The man who shrinks from his
post, and pine himself to his lady's apron
string, meat meet the dog's -death which
he deserves; but whereever a dauntless
heart be beating, be sure God's good an
gels are watching there. For two brave
men who fall on a battle field, fifty cow
ards are slain. Valor is a very Ajax-shield,
anti he who possesses a bold spirit has a
never-failing talisman. What is thegrand
est biography that man can aspire to ?
He lived a brave man's life. Whit is the
sublimest epitaph which can grace his
tomb'? He died a brave man's death.—
The coward breathes his last on a bed of
down, with low, whispering voices in his
err ; the patriot falls across a barricade,
and is dragged through mud and street
filth—hut the memory of the one dies, with
his body, while the other,
in entering a
tomb, ascends a throne, and rules us from
his sepulchre.
The time. It is a steel-toned era. Not
the age for silvery tones and measured sen
tences. Not the age for rhetoric skill and
tricks of fancy. The strung thing is now
the only true thing.
The time. It is a glorious age. Old
Earth sways to and fro, rocked hither and
thither by the storm-breath of Democracy.
Thatgrcat Lazarus--the people—has come
forth from its tomb.' The sleeping Warri
ors are awake. The elash of their swords
is the deathAnell of tyranny. And when
all the nations are advancing in a “rythmi
cal march," shall we not keep the.step I
Dress up your rankse fall in, a n d follow.
The time. It is no poettc, rainbow
hued, golden age. No gentle, sweet-voic
ed sovereign raise the world.' Our only
king-in in the sword. At the flash of the
patiioes steel the tomb of freedom can a
lone Tie lit.
This is not the time for beggars' peti
tions. No more prayers ; 1 no more dy
ing in the diteleeide ; no more patientand
persevering cannibalism ' ; no more soup
kitchen paternitY ;-no more of the grim
farce. in which two millions . of men, With
red blood in them, end something resem
bling a soul, by the grace of the devil and
the advice of their pastors, bid farewell to
the sun, and commit suicide ; no •more
of that 'gentle "law" ,which, like death,
Terrell all distinctions, and places a high
sealediestriot in the same filthy cell with
' a witsmon burglar and ,a swindling Jew ;
no-mote 6f the licensed stenndrelism of
pompous maistrstee--Which the other
day consign one of our beet friends t 6 a
feltin's prison, fcir walking through the
streets of Dublin with hitiTriends ; no more
of that accursed mockery, 'called "govern
ment," which his' trampled into sterility
every good seed of truth, and honor, and
courage. which thejtist God has planted in
this land, and left it without fruit and var.
dure. Away, away, with : all this "spe
cious fry of fratni"— with gnglieh'inle and
English - robbery. Down tat . their native
hell with aristocratic plUnderers and vice
regal
green-eroppers. Their hour is come.
With the keen steel which will redden in
the-blood of th4t- , firet-foreign -butcher, we
will write Finis in the book of British
crime, and trace , the title-page of Ireland's
The people of this laad have been dream.
ingsn uneasy dream. The nightmare van
ishes and the blood-omm circu
late' in the country once more. They
can stir theiriumtLand use , their strength
again. A voice was beard. 'crying ig the
wilderness, and it has aroused them to
sense and volition. A glorio u s fiat fox
wasre-echoed front one end of the line to
the other, and the clouds rolled'or from
our horizon, silt] theblue sky, iooked forth
on us,and blessed us. A revelation came
unto he people, and they had felt that they
i had only , to say, "we shall'ilosuch a thing,
and it was done--they; felt, at:last, the ev
erlasting truth flashily loon their benight
ed seuls, that the people's will, and omnip
otence—as far as regards earth—are sy
nonimoue.
Let them come forth, then; in the sun
light, and take the rights Which have been
withheld from them eo leng—Yes! take
them, for they have. only to stretch 'girth
their-hands, and they will soon grasp the
treasure which they desire. - Parisi willed
that it be free, and Louts Philippe7packed
up his things, put his umbrella under bis
arm, anil, renewing his •yootheagle-likti
—went forth. a-travelling.. _willed
that the Union art—which sucked out its
life-blood.--should be- repealed,- and-the
first sword which glistened in the panint'is
hand, cut the parchment link,that bound it
to •11. foreign -country....JMilint-•-lint.telty.
multiply tuStances It it opt plain as that
God fiveth, that we have but to eek and we
shall receive, if we ask in the command
ing tones of freemen, not in the whining
accent of slaves !
Come forward, then, ye sufTering-poor„
and prove to your oppressors that you are
men, and notdogs.. Fromthe fields where
you toil in the haat of summer and the
frost of winter, coaxing out of theleart of
earth those hidden riches which minister
to your tyrants' luxury—from the filthy
lanes where you cower in rags, and yet i
and misery, hiding your shame from-the
eyes -- of your . TM* 'mew *mil*
(you have done it 1) through the flesh of
your own children, to fan - the flickering
flame of life within you—from ther.under
ground cellars, where some of you, en
dewed, mayhap, with .high aspirations
and sunny genius, grovel, worm-like; in
cold and nastiness, cursing the rule-which
has crushed you down to dust, and extin
guished the heavenly light within you—from
the haunts of crime,
where, with breaking
hearts, you sell the beauty which wee in
tended to-adorn the home of virtue, that
the Hunger fiend which is preying on your
entrails may be satisfied—come forth Aime
forth, ye poor. You wear the garb Who
inanity ; you have the appearance of men.
Let the garb have something within
it..—
let the appearance clothe a reality. You
were made to God's likeness. Premiers
and aristocratsmt.y deny it, but the Man-
God who died for you has said so. Blood
circulates in your veins, too. Yon have
rights todemand, and wrongsto avenge.—
You have as rich a fluid within your hearts
as the tyrants who tramp on you. You
are like them in physical formation. If
they:prick you, do you not bleed t if they
poison you, do you not die t You are
stronger than they are. They are few
and you are many. Up, then, grapple
with them, and try a fall or two. irtin
ly when you have your hands round their
waists that you can truly estimate their
strength or weakness.
• •
WORKING A TRAVERSE:
The following is tho singular history of Mr. La
botachere, at present a member of the British Cab
inet : .
In 1822 he was a clerk in the hanki? .
house of Mr. Hope, at Amsterdam,
was sent by his patron to Lord aging,.
celebrated banker. of - tendou,to vtgotygie
a loan. He ai g layed in this affair sci,muelt
ability that he attracted the attention or*
English banker.
"Ali," said he one day to Lord 804,
"you luire a charming daughter; will you
not accord me her hand?"
"Young man, no pleasantry ! I like You
much, but how could •Miss Baring become
the wife .of a common clerk?" • -
"But," said Labouchere, "if I were 1111110.
Mated with Mr. 'Hopei"
"Ay, that is very diirerent, and would
materially lessen the inequality between
you."
Mr. L. returnaito Amsterdam, and said
to his patron. 4j must be your partner.' :
"My friend, do you thinkof that? you
ere without furtun , kand"— • ,
''But if I were a meitiber •of Lord Va=
rineo family I°
miedeed I why, in that ease I would give
you a partnership on the spot," •
On the strength of these two protnises,
Mr: L. returned to Ehttiand,and two months
afterwards married' Miss Baring, because
he .had the promise of Mt. lope to make
,him pattner as soon as he was married to
her, and beetimeessociated with'Mr. Hope
'because he was tnarritarto Nan Baring..
Tat DRAM OF A CIIRUSTIAii.—OUIF En=
gliW literature, rich as'it is. scarcely furj
!tithes a more charming sentence than this
from Bryant's oration on the death of Cole,
the artist
He passed ihto that next stage of exist
ence, from which we are separated by such
frail barriers, with unfaltering . confidence
in the Divine goodness, like,a docile child
guided by the hand ofa kind Tweet suf.,
feting itself to be led Without tear into the
darkest places."
TWO DOLL/CAB PEIlt Air r
I NEW
BIOGRAPHY OF OEN. CMOS.
It7For the information of those who org not
be acquainted with the past career of Gen. Qom.
the Loceroco nominee for the Presidency, ws sub
join the following sketch, prepared by a cornmorta
dent of the Reeding Journal: "--
Lewis Cass commenced his political el
reer by reviling Jefferson and his Admin
istration in a series of articles published' in
the New Hampshire Patriot. lie' in 'Cif
one of the oldest Federal families in New
England, and soon after his admission' to
the Bar made his way to Ohio, whereto
opened a law office, but did not strecedit- 1 --
Finally, through Gen. Harrison's influence
• he r,eceivetl a Lieutenant's Commissidn in
the Artay, accompanied
Lion to Canada, and agreed to Gen. IfutPi
, surrender la the British! He aft Swards
becathe an aid to Gen. Harrisbn;'btit *its
never engaged in any battle. 0 , 4
In MR he left the Federal party, add
in connection with James Hoyt, of Pith!.
burg, James Buchanan, of Lancaster, and
all the leading Federalists of Mak day, l es
poused the eattse of Gen. Jackson—be
cime Secretary of War under 'sailor',
and mismanaged the department to sneit'a
degrex., especialry in reference to the Flor
ida War, that Old Hickory dismissed him
in the mildest way he could, by madillig
him as Minister to France. There, tree
to his Federal instinct, he became the ad
vocate of Louis Phillippe, and carried 10
aristocratic notions so far as to introdt,m
a_..C.'ourt regulation" requiring all hrnert
cans who dcaire to be prexented to the icing
to Open,. in CO VET DR E SSES—co.-
ing from five hundred to one thousendthid
lars.l While at Paris he wrote a. 84-
graphy of Louis Phillippe, setting ..hhit
forth as the greatest and best monarch 0 . 14
ever lived.
_ Upon the Election of Gen. Herring he
manifested an ardent desire to enter the
Wltig ranks in the hope of being ruttp
pointed by him at a salary of 27,000 or
annum, and no doubt would have turned
out . a full blooded Whig. for the sake
refice, if Gen. Harrison had lived and re
ppoi ted him. Soon after, Tyler turned
1,0,e0fc7, and regarding Cass AS a "doubt
' rig por cian," turned him out and'apueint
ed Wm. ti. King, of Alabama, in his place.
'Mr. Cass returned to the United Statri,
and irons wer to certain inquiries propound
ed to him declared himself in favor of a higlt
Protective Tariff, Distribution of the Prp
cited' of the Public Lands, and of the cue-
Atitatiopality of a Bank .of the United
States. 'These views brought him in Chre
allianee'with Governor Porter, of Pennsyl
vania, and that portion of the Locofoco
party who had a squinting to those meas
ures. •He was afterwards elected to the
Senate of the United States, in the same
manner as Gen. Cameron, of Pennsylva
'VOA; olitainced a seat in that body. Being
bow, In a position of influence, he sem
raelie4 bi44l* for the Presidency. 4c•
cordingly a public meeting in some obscure
place in Kentucky, was got up in 1843,
whets he was recommended for President,
and Gov. Porter for Vice President.*
With this endorsement these,two worthies
entered the Baltimore Convention of 1844.
antithere succeeded in defeating Van Be
rea the {intellection of the two-thirds
rule, but were themselves defeated itt get
ting the nomination. 1
De nest espoused the. annexation s ,,of
Texas, the extension and propagation . qf
slavery, and the War with Mextco'for ad
ditional territotrto promote Slavery. ' Bet
in these, u sineome former measures, he
soon besantoperplexed. Wilmot,othion
sylvapia, introduced hie celebrated Proviao
against the extension of Slavery in free
territory. This was a democratic measure,
popular in the tree States and edloue in
the South. The course he pursued was
to make a speech for the proviso, and vote
against it. Then came the repeal of the
protective Tariff of 1842, which he had
approved of and recommended. The Ta
riff Wei democratic and popular in the free
States, and odious in the South. lle made
a speech in favor of the Tariff and voted
to re_peo/ it. During the present session
of Congress, he made a speech against
slavery as a moral evil and published a let
ter approving of it in free territory. All
these things certified him to be a genuine
Lomitfoco, and have secured him the nomi
nation.
A Boon minister' in
New York defines a life member of a
Missionary -Society- thuit:...A.One who
givemand begs for the Missionary Soointy
as long as he hies I" Put that in the Die-
."We must be unanimous," observed Han
cock on Ilia occasion of signing the Decla
ration of Indepeptlimee ; -there must ben°
pylling differant .ways.".
“Yes,. observed Franklin, ""we aunt all
hang together, or most assuredly we shall
all hang seprtely.:"
, ,
The blood -contains about eighty pe ‘ r
cent. of water, the flesh about seventq•four
per cent., and it is assumed by physiolo
gists. that the entire human body contains
nearly seventy-five per cent. or three query
tere,of ite weighs of water.
'G o od thingi lutve a bond of union
Idt ',changes do but tend to disclose , )4411
strengthen.
‘
Trust` not year 'peace of nind anir
real' bark that is liable to be' upset
first wind that blows.
Books are ships which pass through
vast seas of time, and, n344' diMaPi IV°
to participate orthe wisdotni, Austrattone
and inventions, the one of tite,Othaiv
No man was ever a loser by gOosi,f9fiiit
for though he may not be imntedist4Y.T
warded, in process of One some liltify
emergency or other occurs to cOtiv(0)?
him' that good men 'are the darlings or / 1 0
!idealise.
Pasras.--Our desire', the'
devour along with 4heir beery, she,
with wliob they ,
hid 41141vf It 4 )/
Truth has tie t anitgeselt II —
p bomoull*ll4 4 -1 41 7
of betdisoi ,
ever tempted to iiee
tagOuiro ') ,:;