" -1 1 I-
lIV D. A. & C. If. BUEHLER
VOLUME XXIV.I
From Priermn'A Magazine for April
THE TWO GRATE•
BY ELLEN LOUDIE CHANDLER
There are Iwo ewes. far. fir apart,
And the deep ana rolls between ;
O'er one they've piled the marbly high,
O'er one the goes grows green.
In the one, within a gorgeous fame,
Lies she wbum I called my bride ;
Before whose feet I knelt of old ,
In her father's halls of pride.
In the one behind the village chu•ch,
Where wild flower'e nod in prayer,
Ic resting the shade of the purest diem
That brightened my life of care !
The one was a maiden proud and high,
With the wa•ea of her jetty hair
All braided up with jewels rich,
And pearls and diatnonds :1;e,
The other had curls of sunny light,
And a smile as faint and mild
Ae those which the olden artists paint
In their dreams of the young Christ child
One awed my heart with the prideful glance
From her darling orbs that fall,
The eyes of the other were purely blue,
As the home where the angels dwell.
One brought me ■ title proud and high,
And pearls, and gold, and lands,
With serfs to bow at me lightest word,
Aud go at my tirst commands—
The other brought but the earnest love
That glowed in her starlight eyes,
And blest my heart like the downward rays
From the distant paradise
I wedded the one with stately pomp,
In • proud cathedral aisle,
Awl hells were ringing in high church towers,
A sounding chime the while.
I wedded the other a* Quakers wed,
In the fewest-will and deep.
When hushed were the sounds of noisy life,
And the dowers had gone to sleep.
Oh ! blithe eras my night-haired love, and (air,
And prowl was her darling eye,
Hut dearer far Wlsw Inc cottage gni,
Will her angel polity.
But the demons wondering nver earth,
For the one spun out ■ *brood,
And they hoed her :ow where woo haiku glow
In the old Cathedral proud.
The other. when holy sten .hine down,
‘‘'art hearing the angels ettkir„
And a truant tier 40 folded her
lu the claw of los vie ode... wing !
They told me the one wee lying dead,
And a tear earare-rss-riabau•-•”
But joy dream chased for g loom away
And a smile went tß.tins by.
They told me the other had gone to sleep
And I sought the haute •:.smile.
For I hated the fight of the rosy day,
And I cursed the light of life.
The one Ilea still in her lar-MT tomb.
W here the tall wax taper., gleam,
And their raps 1411 down oil the marble latrine
%all a Lod and ruddy ln•am.
over the coheir the ninht•roars awing,
When the light of d.ty has th;d,
And the wild wind., her gentle'nama
Tin l Irish that I welt dead
CARRIE ARM D.
11%itik ant, beloved. Out time can break
The Tell around us rust ;
Or •Irseuwo from my bosom t■ko
The memory of the past .
Ms love is not that silvery mist.
From summer blooms by sunbeams kissed.
Ton lucitive to last ;
A fadeless flower. it r.•tains
The 'nigh welts of its earlier
Ilow shall I describe thee, Carrie Ar
mand ! Beautiful, bewitchingly beauti
ful thou art, with thy soft, beautiful eyes,
and golckst curis, clustering around a face
of angelic beauty. Beautiful creature :
who can desexibe that living intelligence
that compelln the beholder to look to re
collect even in day-dreams, and in dist
ant lands to see thee in the visions of the
night! to wake and find thee gone, though
fixed forever in the memory.
Sweet Carrie Armaud : thou art a being
to worship and to love. There is a dreamy
sweetness in thy countenance—a mystery
in the profound sensibility of thy nature,
that fascinates beyond measure.
Art thou gay ! thy beautiful eyes are
tilled with brightness, thy lovely counte
nance becomes radiant with smiles—thy
thrilling voice is turned to highest mirth,
while the gladness that fill thy heart o'er
flows, as dues light from the sun, impart
ing to all around its genial warmth. Tru
ly thou art the Lily of Avondale, thy
bright valley home ; and never fairer lily
lifted its sweet head beside meandering
stream, or in secluded glen. Como - With
Me to the shade of that old forest that
waves its leafy boughs in the summer
breezes.
Leaning against the huge trunk of a
towering sycamore is Carrie Armand.—
`rho playful zephyrs are nestling amid her
soft curls and coquetting with the wreath
of bright autumn leaves that bind them
from off her brow.
Her white robe falls in graceful folds
around a form of the mast perfect symme
try, and a straw hat with its silken strings
of cerulean blue hangs upon her round
arm. AJaint rose color gleams upon her
cheek, and the beautiful bouquet of wild
flowers she has gathered is spangling the
earth with a variety of soft and lovely
hues, torn, in apparent unconsciousness, by
.that fair hand.
,Before her stands a young man of some
three, : and twenty. He is possessed of a
slight but elegant figure) tad there is a
world of Melancholy beauty , in that pale
face, with those dark, lustrous eyes, and
marble brow.
One by ono the delicate petals continuo
falling to' the ground.
"Why Cirri° 1 Why do yen spoil that
exquisite boquet,Shat you. so easefully call•
cal • May I keep these, Carrie t•' said
She ,yout4 wan, as Ito gathered.' the torn
and scattered leaves, and placed them in
his bosom.
"Ohl they are torn and faded—you
shall have something prettier," she replied
taking from her hair a white rosebud half
unfolded.
I will look at this when alone, and think
of a far lovelier flowery" said he, taking it
and earnestly pressing the hand that gave I
it, while those dark eyes beamed upon the
young girl, with a so eloquent with
love and truth that her heart beat With now
and undefined emotions. "You will
not forget me entirely, when I am gone,
Carrie ?" said the young wan, W a sad
tone.
"Forget you, Earnest !" replica' the I
fair girl, quickly; "oh, never."
"Bless you ; bless you for those words,"
ho answered. "But time flies, and the
lung shadows of the trees tell me. I must
depart."
"So soon, Earnest," said Carrie Ar
mand, sadly. "But will you not some
times think of Avondale ?" "And of thee,
Carrie f ",interruptod her companion.
"Yes; never shall I forget the blissful
hours that I have passed in this quiet val-
I ley, and wherever I go, the vision of a
beauteous face will ever haunt we. Fare
: well, Carrie."
lle took her hand, held it between his
own, and gazed earnestly upon that sweet
Lee and downcast eyes.
"Farewell," murmured the young girl,
in a voice scarcely auldible.
"Adieu, sweet Avondale. Shull I nev-
AT again listen to the wusie of thy purling
treams, or linger beneath the shade of
these obi trees ?" said Earnest Fairfax, in
a sal voice, "Carrie, farewell !"
Ile pressed the little handslerrently to
his lips, and the next moment ho WO gone.
Carrie Armand sunk down upon the
earth and burst into a passionate flood of
wars.
What cared she for the music of the
birds, or the rustling of the winds around
her ? She heeded them not„, jle was
gone ; gone, too, without confessing or re
ceiving the avowal of love that dwelt in
the hearts of both. Gone—perhaps, for
ever !
The sun bad long since sunk to rest, and
the shades of night were falling, ere she
rose from that damp earth, and pursued
her way homeward. Ernest was gone ;
and her bright and blissful dream over
In the splendid dressing-room of a city
mansion arc two young girls. One is
standing before the full-length mi rror,
surveying her form attired for an evening
part v. She is very beautiful, and there is
a certain high-bnd air visible in every
movement of her graceful person.
Iler robe of pale blue velvet, with its
berethe of rich Brussels lace falling around
' the sloping shoulders, is in admirable
keeping with her delicate loveliness; while
the diamonds that gleam amid the braids
of her dark hair, upon her arching neck
and polished arms, are not more brilliant
than ;he light of those largo melting eyes.
Leaning against the elegantly carved
Italian marble mantle, is a sylph-like
form ; her brow shaded by her little hand.
The silvery chimes of a French clock a
wake her from her revery-. She lifts her
head.
NVe have Been that sunny face before,
on a bright autumn day, in the old woods
of Avondale. She is arrayed in no costly
velvets, or sparkling jewels; lzont a garland
of gossamer flouts about her form, and
wreaths of bright leaves and snowy buds
are twined amid her golden curls.
She is as beautiful, as childlike as ever;
but a softer, more subdued light beams in
her dye, while her manners are more gen
tle, and perhaps somewhat more pensive
than before Carrie Armand
"how beautiful you are, sweet cousin !"
said she, as she gazed upon the dazzling
loveliness of Ida 31'esuley.
The young creature turned from the
gilded mirror, and twining her arms about
the speaker, pressed a kiss upon her stain
less brow.
"Darling Carrie," she murmured, "my
witching loveliness will win all hearts to
night; for even Clifton Macauley, my
haughty, fastideous brother, has owned its
power—and he loves thee, Carrie, my
sweet, wild flower I loves thee, with a de
votion of which I thought his cold nature
incapable."
"Oh I say not so, dear Ida," gasped
Carrie Armand. "I can never,be aught to
him."
Ida Macauley marked not the blanched
cheek of the trembling .girl to whom she
was so gaily speaking, but throwing her
rich furs around, they descended to the
drawing• room, whore Clifton was awaiting
thorn.
They entered the carriage. The blinds
were closely drawn to exclude the frost
air, and they rolled away, to a scene of
mirth and revelry. • •
Tho magnificent saloons of Mrs. Crof
ton presented an appearance of unusual
gaiety and elegance. /- I'very part of the
vast apartments was bathed as it were , in
a flood of roseate splendor. A band of mu.;
sic poured forth' osutianed Strait's of the
GETTYSBURG, PA., FRIDAY EVENING, APRIL 22, 1853.
most entrancing harmony ; and the air
was laid% with the incense of a thousand
fiowerli of every hue.
The dancing had ceased for a moment,
as Clifton with Lis sister and Carrie Ar
mand entered the saloons.
Every eye was turned upon them, but
the reigning belle of the i cast two seasons
passed unnoticed, as her cousin moved
gracefully along.
"Who is she ? who is she ?" passed
from lip to lip.
"Beautiful ! divine !" whispered the
gentlemen.
The flush upon the young girl's cheek
deepened as these praises fell upon her
oar, and with downcast eyes she passed on
to the upper end of the saloon. The music
again sounded, and the floor was rapidly
filled with dancers.
Suddenly a familiar voice attracted her
attention. She turned and behetil Ida led
away to join the dancers. The band struck
up one of Struss's most inspiring waltzes.
Round and round ( floated thA.ctrarmed
circle, and Carrie beheld the queen-like
form of ida encircled by the arm of Ern
est Fairfax. Her breath fanned his cheek,
and his dark eyes were bent upon that
face radiant in its own beauty. Poor Car
rie ! a faintness came ow her as she
gazed.
Yet what was Ernest Fairfax to her ?
Maybe she was entirely forgol,ten. §4e
raised her head proudly, and 'smiling on
Clifton Macauley, she suffered him to draw ;
her gently among the waltzers.
Many were the eyes that followed that
form ; for the soft, enchanting grace with
which she moved, fascinated tha beholder.
, Faster played the music. Faster trip
ped fairy feet. The dancers almost flew.
Carrie saw that Ida and per partner had
withdrawn from the floor and were stand-'
ing in the recess of a deep window. She I
felt that his eyes were upon her, and a
thrill of joy pervaded her frame.
Like a I'eri she moved—she bared).
touched the floor. At last the muaic ceas
ed. Clifton led her to a divan, and seat
ing himself beside her, gently fanned her
flushed brow.
"Carrie :" stud her sweet voice. She
looked up. There stood Ida, and by I r
side was Ernest Fairfax, his beautiful, (lark
eyes bent full upon her face
" 11iao Armando, Air. Fairfax," *aid 1-
da, in her easy, careless manner.
"Carrie," said that well-remembered
voice, and the half extended baud was
warmly grasped and—retained.
"Ernest," murmured the sweet girl.
"Once more," said he, "do I behold the
little valley of Avondale, and the leafy
boughs of that old sycamore. Oh ! Car
rie ! have you forgotten that bright
nu
tuool ?"—Clifton and his sister exchang
ed glances. He arose, and drawing her
arm within his own, they turned away.—
But their departure was not noticed Mther
by Ernest Fairfax or Carrie Armand.—
The hours wore on—midnight came.—
Those brilliant strains of inspiring music
were at their height.
"Will you dance, Carrie," said Ernest
Fairfax i and they glided in among th.!
Waltzers.
Clifton Macauley stood apart from the
gay revellers, in moody silence, watching
every motion of Carrie Armand. lle had
loved the sweet girl with a wild and pas
sionate love, but a love that he knew was
hopeless. She was but a bright vision that
crossed his path to leave it gloomier than
before.
Ile turned from her, and his gaze fell,
with a brother's pride, upon the beaute
ous Ida, who seemed that night to be in
her gayest and wildest mood, followed, ad
mired and carressed by all.
Carrie Armand cared but for the horn -
age of one fond, trusting heart. Ida Ma
cauley would have scores of worshippers at
her feet.
Morning had dawned in the grey east,
ore the cousins sought their pillows. One
to dream of new conquests and golden
tinted prospects of a splendid future ; the
other to dream of her home, sweet -Avon
dale, with its purling streams, its singing
birds—and Ernest !
How, long years before, they had stood
beneath the old 'sycamore, on that clear,
autumn day, when the sun shone brightly,
and the winds gently kissed the leaves.—
How he placed in his bosom, her parting
gift, that ho had since guarded so preci
ously.
Sleep on, sweet one. May the angels
guard thy slumbers.
The last rays of the setting sun are
streaming with all their glorious effulgence
through the stained windows of the little,
chapel of Avondale, and resting lovingly
upqn the anon;}' tresses of the fair being at
the altar. lior whiteiveil floats like a
mist around her form, din snowy robes,
and the bright wreathe of autumn leaves
have given place to dewy orange blossoms.
By her side is a noble and familiar fig
ure, and he meets the love look of those
gentle eyes with joy unutterable. Holy
words hover upon ,the tongue of the white
robed priest—soft responatut emselrom the
lips of those to whom he has spoken, and
sweet dirrie Armaid, the lily of Avon
dale, is the bride of Ernest
_Forks..
..FEARLE9I34ND FREE:"
A ishort Sermon glar young Men. I HAD No "0" To HtIINANIE.—We wit-!
TszT: Owe ito matt anyihing. —Keep nessed a scene at the Railroad station a I
ishoredime sinus, which afforded much a -
ont'of debt. Avoid it at you would war,
pestilence and famine. Shun t it as you I
musement to the bystanders- A very
would the devil. Hate it with a perfect I
.entire an d & h..' well and rather showily dressed- man,
stoned paddle toes, break with a very prominent nose, alighted from 1
Dig pita
I
h so a l t u re te d.
ab A ho b r h r o e r nc i e t . with an
addle in tin ware, diianything that ' the cars, and stood watching their depar- I
is honest and useful, rather than run in I
sure, when he was bluntly accosted by an
debt. As you value comfort, quiet. inde- ,
ed son of Erin, (a recent impor
pendence. keep out of debt. As you! old ragg
value digestion, a healthy appetite, a placid nation,) who still retained the freize coat
temper, a smooth pillow, sweet sleep. I and corduroys. and was evidently but
pleasant dreams, and. happy wakings little Americanized, in the following nfan -
keep out of debt. alit is the hardest !
ter
lof all taskmasters, the most cruel of all op- '
Ipressers. It is an incubus in the heart.-1 "Arralt. an' be me apul—is this yerself,
It spreads a cloud (Aver the whole firma. ; Mr. 0' Nayle 1"
1 ment of man's being. It eclipses the sun.' The gen/lemon (?) looking first stirpris-
lit blots out the stars, it dims and defaces ed—and then shocked—and lastly indig-
the beautiful blue sky. It breaks the liar- Haat , replied—
'mony of nature. and turn's to dissonance I "Ye're myatayken, sir-r, me name is
all the voices of its melody. It furrows , not O'Nsyle."
1 forehead with preatature wrinkles, it i
plucks the eye of its liiht, it drags all no- "Me name isn't 0' Na yle."
!bleness and kindness ant of the port and I "triPt it now ! an' ye're not an O'-
1 hearing of a man. It Atkes the soul out Nayle, an' yees didn't come from Skih
'of his laugh and all stateliness and freedom bereen—an' ‘ ye're not the 41011 of the widder
' from his walk. Contdnot under its Ike. Bridget ? an may be Patrick, poor leiter.
I cursed domains. P llby it as you would
that's Jed' an, gun', wasn't ye're father.
ai
1 pass by a leper. or line smitten by the nether 1 an' ye didn't go to Baltimore,
plague. Touch it Mk.. Taste not of its j
wid the rich intlernan, an' gin intil the
, fruit, for it shall tura to bitterness and -rag bizness, an' make a power o' moony
' ashes on your lips..,„ Finally, I say to , —an' ye're not an O'Nayle 1 Well.
leach and to all, but .; ,Especially to young; well, well ! be this an' be lhaf-t, this
' men. keep out of 'Jibs—[London fifer-, bates all nut entirely !—an' d'yees think I
. wouldn't no yees, Patrick ? well I wuil ?
cury. i;
-,-- - 1 wid that nose to the fore I'd take dile Bi-
Ms oi Illtughia. ! ble oath t'yees in open Court, before the
To raise good cattle. a farm should he Jidgu and jury, an' ivory Bowl that was .
lit such a state thst it wont! produce m it,
gootl4 , corn, cowl cabbage, or gool clo-1 "An' an ye're not an O'llayle 1 well,
ver. , i then, 'tisn't azy denyite in—ye're the
An inereast of' Earn products lessens image 0' ye're father, so ve are ! but I
the market price. and pieconsumer is more see ! Otai sure I !mend hots grand ve
benefifted than the partkeer. Therefore win, an what s fine jii.tlentan ye wor,
the ecnottragement of agriculture is the in- aii' how yeea didn't know poor men at
wrest of the wholerople. It is the first ,ill—at all ; an' sure 'its an ilegant coat
duty of Statesjo encourage agricultural int- yees have on, so it in, an' very 'indite
provement. yees are--twitl ver big looks au' deltidt-
The brightness of the plow-share will erin ways ; dirtl a one I ever seen yet
prove a better eel/frit! to our republi. was altered aqiiil to yees-311' ye're not
can institutions the all the. windy patriot- an O'Nayle, au' lon think''' . ye're riot on
lain of long speeches in Congress. , Irivhnian molter !—Mdlthu 'tie a Ytiikee
lie who encoutioges young men in the yore are—all out ! divil a one wine
pursuit of agriculture is eking a gond work doubts it, au' ye're not an O'N ay le, I'll
I tor the morals of mutiell...itAanitred yearj_spyrlgtleLain't an Irishman natti I r—sit'
hence. • sure ye're not an O'N iyle ! Might I
The lady whelk:este the Itu.triodinati make humid to ix ynr name ?"
with scorn, berms /title is a farmer. co- , All this was voinferated very rapidly.
tributes sitinetlitoiLlowirrds increasing the nod in a tone of deep indignation, ee the
number of caticWs fur the State prison " •iiiitleinan of the rag Inzuess' retitled--
and the gallows, , “Ale name Is Neil. sir-r, but Fee no 0
All the true honor of happiness there lii t !„. 1 ,„,„,,.* ,
'is ih this worltl follows labor. Were ..,kii' is ii ••t it ? Ye've nicer an () to
it.-irmt for working-men, there would he ver name ! Ihd yees lose it atter yees
i nn progress in either science or art.— keine to Anterik y ?"
I Working-men are cloth's true wiliilliv. No, air-r, I dtd not. I never had all 0
, Those who live witthout work are all pail- to me name."
rte.. ' / :S:. , ..1) , • yees tell inn that ? Well. thin. I
Fl Dr the community to h o nor , ill. - '.. 0 1 0 lIIIIIii the (hair, M. Nilyfe, When flied; watt
spends life in genteel idleness, is like dress- an 0 hi ver name, biz eitoilith to drive tt
Mg a hog in silk stockings. , Ivirac I,lt . curt throstzli—witalSilinerer
Mirth and vanity are known Eke a hot- ve've &me with it since."
' tie of beer ; but wisdom and virtue by 'rue •jititteinan.' declining further coo
: their abundant products for lasting good. 1 troversy, l im i t , indignantly th mying , t h e
It is not the most show that does the most' boll impeachment'
.rersiee. Still water often runs deep.—
, Granite Farmer,
DVINO BEFORE THEIR TIMF..--"DO von
not expect to the '!" said a' thoughtful
Iriend to's young lady Who/ WAS enumer
ating. with great the pleasures
she was expecting to enjoy.
..1 shall die when my time comes
was the flippant reply.
"Persons sometimes die before their
••1 do not see how that ran be p bqi
said the careless one. who left the room
in order to avoid further canversmou on
an unpleasant subject.
That many may die before their time is
a truth taught by observation and by the
word of God. There are many who evi
dently shorten their days by tom viets.
But in addition to the physical conse
quences of some sins, there is a connexion
between sin and sherteess of days. It is
expressly said that the wicked shall not
live out hall their days. A 221111. siye
to the sinner, ..Why shouldst thou die be
fort; thy time r Err : vii, 17.
Who would wish to die before his
time ! Who would enter the unseen
world. and stand Adore an angry God be
fore his time Who would wish to taste
of the agonies of his second death before
his time
All desire length of days. All anticipate
a good old age. if a rule could he given
of ita certain attainment. it would be fol
lowed by all. Thousands would follow
it implicitly, who utterly disregard the
rule for securing eternal life.
Reader. if you cannot lengthen your
days. you can avoid shortening them•--
Cease from sin. Go to Christ for pardon
and fur gram s. that you may not die before
your time, and that death, when it must
come, way be an introduction to life.
Wanklogtou's Watch.
The Christian Watchman relates the
following striking anecdote of Washing
ton, in illustration of the practical good i
sense which he manifested in everything.
The incident speaks .volumes upon pie
character of4be Father of his Coun:ry.—
'.His personal friend, Governor Morris.
was about going to Europe. and Washing-
ton. along with semisl letters of introduc
tion, gave him this charge, 'To huy him,
at fans. a flat gold watch ; not the watch
of a fool. or of a man who desires to make
a show. but of which the interior construc
tion shall be extremely well eared for, and
the exterior air very simple.' What a
mine of 'premium dootliose words suggest
about men. as well at watches. 'the in
terior well cared tor. and the'exterior air
very simple V' Boys and girls, remem
ber Washington's watch, and be like it
yourselves *
An old toper. who had lately attended
an exhibition where i learned professor
caused several explosions to tike place
among pies produced from water, said . :
efon don't catch me putting much water
into my liquor after this ; had no kfaa
before that waterway so dangerous; though
I never Liked to take much of it.
A Goon LITTLE G very lisle
girl who often read the Bible, give proof
that She understood her obligations to
hey its 'precepts. One day she came to
her mother. much pleased, to show stone
fruit which had been Eiwril her. Tne
mother said the friend was very kind. and
had given her a great many. " es." said
the child. •very indeed ; and she gave me
more than that, and I have given some a
way." The mother inquired to whom
she had given them : she answered.
gave them to a girl who pushes me oil the
path. and makes faces at me." tin being
asked why she gave them to her, she re
plied, "Because I thought tt would wake
her know that I wish to he kind to her.
and she will not., perhaps, he ride RIO
nu
kind to me agate.' Now admirably did
she then obey the command to overt:ulna
evil with good.
A tear stood in the aye of little Charles,
and he promised his mother to try and do
so too. %VIII the little readers. under
similar circumstances, "go and du like-
ivaccr HOPE DM
it stole on its pinions of snow to the bed
of disease ; and the sufferer's frown be
came a sinde—the emblem of peace and
elitiratace.
It went to the house of mourning, and
from the lips of sorrow there came sweet
and cheerful songs. ,
It laid its head upon the arm of the poor
man, which was stretched lurch at the
command of unholy impulses, and saved
him from disgrace and ruin
It dwelt like a living thing in the bosom
of the mother, whose sou tarried long after
the promised num of his coming ; and it
saved her from desolation, and the ••csre
that killeth."
It hovered about the head of the youth
who had become the Ishmael of society ;
and led him onward to works which his
enemies praised.
It snatched a maiden from the jaws of
death, and went with an old man to Hea
ven.
No, hope !my good brother. have it.
Beckon it on your side. Wrestle with it
that it may depart not. It will repay your
pains. Life is hard enough at best—hut
hope shall lead thee over its mountains,
and sustain thee anitid its billowii. Pert
with all beside—keep thy hope.
"Don't count your chickens before they
are hatched is now rendered--••Octrions
coin putations. unduoak.en autecedaneously
to active ineubaho are very apt to prose
abortive."
A New Orleans paper advertises a raffle
for a splendid horse and .4 negro girl
Sarah—the latter vAlued at $9OO, Delight
fnl picture of New Orleans morality.
Ninity•six millions of louses peeved
through ihe minutia post %iffiest in the
Smtes.4liiring the year. 1e63.
Ills that :tarts what he knows will also
Aalk what he knows out,
The Angels of atlee
• BY WHITTEXR,
With silence only et their boinedktion,
(hod's angels SClalOr. ' ' •
Where, in the *bedew oil greet affliction.
The soul efts dumb. .
Yet would vow my, what every NV approwith,
Our F■ther's will,
Calling to him the deer ones whom he loveth.
Is mercy still.
Not upon us or crow the aolemn angel
H■th evil wrought ;
The funeral inithem is a glad evangel :
The good die not!
God calls our laved one,, but we law not, wholly
What be hoe given :
They live on mirth in thonitlit and Jeed, as truly
As in Hie Heaven—
HOME
Home's not merely four square walls.
Though with pictures hung slid! goaded.;
Home is where affection calls,
Filled with shrines the heart both buihied
Home i—go Watch the fsithlul 'doer! '
siding, 'Death the heaven aboai
Home is where there's one to love,
Home is whew there's cosh) love us
Home's not merely motion; town.'
It need. aomething to mohair it;
Home is where the heart can bloom,
Where there's Nome Mod lip tofillear it ;
'What is home with none to neat
None to welcome, not to greet no 1 .
Home Is sweet, and Mtlv tivieet,
When there's one we love to meet•tm iv
A MOTHER'S PRAYER
A weather—beaten sailor• on ,making
his homeward pasmage, as he '44fi!ed the
•stormy Cape. encountered!t ti 4resdfill
storm. - The mother had heard of his er•
rival outside the Cape. and was awaiting
with the anxiety a mother slime tam know.
to see her son. But note the storm; had
arisen. and, as she expected, when the
ship was in the most dangerous plaue.---
Fearing that each blast, as it. swept' tiwr
raging deep might howl the requiem alter
eon, with laid; strong in God, she com
menced praying for his safely. At , this
moment news came that the vessel was
lost I
The father. an unconverted man. lind till
this time preserved a sullen silent*, but I
now lie wept aloud. The mother observed, I
•11 is in the hands of Bun who
things well and again. in a subillnul and
and softened spirit bovvittl.sotnisonnled her
still. and I.ur pArriter---40 Hlt amlible voice.
broken only by the bursting tit a lull heart
to Gel
Darkness had now spread her mantle
abroad, and [bey !mired. but not to real,
and anxiously waited for the mottling. ho;
,ring at lea.' that some rell, of their lost one
might he found , 0 0iv ; •
Thu morning came. winds were
hushed. and the ocean lay comparstitely
milli), as though its fury had iinbiludd slime
ih s Wlllll was no more, At this itunitent,l
the little wits in Vont of their.dwelling
turned uu its binges. 'l'ir door opened—,
and their soli. their boo. Invest sum, smolt'
belore them ! The vessel had been driven
I into one of the many harlaiiini on the Itl,lllll. r
and was wale. The lather rushed to turret
hon. Ills mother hanging tin his neck
earnestly exclaimed.:
•.11 y child how Nuns you here ?
.Moilier.' said Wt. US tits wars coursed
wII hi!. miliburtit filer,. knew you'd pray
Inc /one'
What a Ppm-hide ! A wilt) reekle.ts
youth anknntvludged Ow cliieacy of prayer!
It seeing t h at he wag aware ul his petitions
Attu:till'''. meal that he Ighore.l with, his
thoughts—.My neither prays
prayers are allswertiil.attil I may he gays.).'
This reflection. whim alutogt exhausted
with fatigue, and ready in give up in de
spair. gave lout fro-4i eourige, gull, wilt
renewed efflirt hu hihiireil till the h arbour
was gained.
Christian mother, go Ilion and do like.
wise. Pray over that who is likely
ite wrecked in the 'north of hie and his
prospects blasted 101:VI'r. Ile may be
saved.
Font Rol ha Caine. ,
A correspondent wishes to know, how
to cure this disease. lie sap' the rattle,
in that region are sutrlring very ach
from it. and that many of ilium are loos.
ing their hoofs.
The disease which nor correspondent
describes is analogous to the -foot .rot" in
sheep; it is prevalent in cold, low, marshy
countries, and is the consequence either
of feeding in wet pastures during the Winter
mouths, or permitting animals to wollutv
in their filth.
TeicaTstiorr...—Of course the first and
great leading indication of cure is to re
move the reuse. This done, the cure :to
easy.; indeed, it is often all that is required.
First of all, then, see that the animal is
removed to a dry situation. Theo wash
the part affected with warm water end
!soap. and (or the purpose of liberating:
moo bid matters that may he burrowing in
the soft parts. apply a relaxing poultice.—
Take say—Slippery Elm. .Poud , i
bruised, and Powdered charcoal, equal:
parts. Mix with boiling water. mid put
the ingredients into a bug. and secure iv!a
hove the fetlock., As soon as a tree ilia
charge of matter takes, place, abandon the
poultice. and if the discharge is otrettsive.:
wash the cleft morning and 'netting. with
salt, water, or, whatiii. perhaps ,better, !Salt
and vinegar.
if the animal's geueral, health ,appears
, bad gise the folloWing mixture atitibise,
!and occasionally., repeat, t-rFfOur, of, Solt
Our, half an nave, P4wderl)( l .**o l !fra?'
bark, one.ou rote ; 13tirtlock,. (any part of
the plant,), two oz.; titeep mit gnat; of,
boiling .water and when (.014 etralit.-77-,
Th e, pk w , The Loom• end ?'he • dn•
vii. , .
Few know that in every +levee mlnutel w . .
in the ilex a' 011111 is horn to I:niitlon, and (1:73t la a little singular, (says the Ppriknoir
that every nine minutes one , ut its iiitiithi= ioartiscr,) that of ,fire of the Preoidenlial
tanlB,4 k e • • • • , wedidatee— , ooe, Wiusvrice. ie dealt ti seethrr
The nippiest poopli. in the *OM are ale thBmocommrslididowy Wit btu "O. hot ,
those whe•do The m us t 't o eeardo 'won after his election, by a met distrowi . nit
'
other people happi. ' .'• accident, aid bit own awl wilt,'" Wee were
eared slimed minwelottaly : while the third,
.Bertfe is is but 'the ur, a q , yiz:t
Docos and
t . .
z itites, have eaoh bad to mourn *low if
By irides ere the qualitis of twee diaz - their wire* slaw the wavers! Stilly , 41*
ottvenol es well as by greet ' •strikes is high plow.
•
•I'Ve6 bOLLARRi b ii ANNUM
EMME
tNUMBEF
=MIN
The link hurter— , lletntordinerr
velopmente.
Neon am the murder of Dien Lynch and
Powys Shaw ,had beetr fastened oo Arthur
slpringonspidnu or the Murder orioseph Rink
feltuponhim, 04 the police set to work to as-
Ceiba h i s whereas:nits orr the day of t ,Plhr
der.. Mr. ' Rai*, his brother-in law, with
whom he hoarded, was tinder the immeasion
that he wad in the hones on that afternoon.
This lulled the suspicion for the time being,
though many .of, our citizens could not direst
thinintelves of the belief that he was the min ,
deter. Among the articles found in Mr, kink's
atom • Which attracted the attention of 'the
Mayor'S pollee. was tin old' umbrella. This.
they laid carefully away, in the bora-that it
might lead to. the' detection of the Germinal.
On the several hearings that took place. grow
imy out of the , acumation. of Jerome Peckert.
thift Umbrella watt notamtiorted. and it waii
ilinotiCfeirgotten. when family of Mr. Rink,
cimeiaeed n it Arthur Spring was the
tint ilerer.obtained the umbrella front the police
office, and •ithaireil it to Mr. 'litturtm, who at
once identilleditimionebe had 'itstiutir ett Spriic.r
4001filieOsie If the murder. and Wltioh he had
nut,meui since,., .Tho identifloation, we are in-
Ruined. vra,4 DIM complete.
'There tire several marks and patches on it.
wind', itesniance doubly sure." end
Alb* that The attripieitm in regnixl to Spring's
commisiiian - of that bloody deist. was will
founded. Mr. Ragan further remembers that
Spring was out on the afternoon of the murder,
and that, too, at the thue - of its commission.
Them developments will relieve Fickert of
'the atmikion that fastened to him, and which,
more Min tireething else. wits the result of his
man hilly,' -"litr. Reed, the District Attorney,
has.been 111 New Ittrk, for a day or two. On
his mettum, it is presumed that he will thoronglt
i ly investimte this matter, and give all the facts
to the public. . It is highly important that they
should he given. If this crime is fized upon
1 - Aithur Spring, it will relieve his son entirely
froin toispicion'of being connected with Mtn in
the perpetration of his fiendish murders. Be
, sides, it will throw opon,the prison doors to
Fockert, and remove the stain from him.
i Spring, we are told, sines his second convie:
don, tuaintaint a dogged silence, an t en
he
dues deign to say anything on the Ject of
the Federal street murders, denies vebemenily
his partiVipition iti tlienk lie will be 24einenc
' eiliterSerturday next.-Phir/a. New,.
Tho Ri& ;ffurdpting Identified--
of alirinic, *a.
PIIII.AOIII.PIIIA,Airiff4tE tI VA) ; this morn
ing the varmint persons who tom the man, sup
posed to be the murderer. of Rink, leave his
store .shorilv before he, was discovered in a
laying condition, proceeded to the, ail. and were
bilcen into Aithne Sitting's cell for tlw purpose
of seeing whether thee' could idetitify him 114
the Man. ' They all. With but one execUtion.
mooed that the prisoner's, general appearaviee
rescuthltsl.thit,pt the person they maw, Ono
of-the witncintea Alax-pogitive in his identifica
tion ithisti as the matt he saw muting front
,
fin; store. ,
Sulattiquently, Speint win for the grand hi M . ,
and volunteered the following statement bf Fib;
connexion with then Rink murder. which is.
regnbled,• quiler..the cimiAtinwes t air pore
Clearly-king thelittilt on leinalthutigh a dr
nial of 'II.'. If& flaYs thite hb:arali'Disiting" the
store of' Rink Mr' thit'afterneon that he wits
inertiehtl,.intd"boarhig the err of sin 'I
14
be. entered tottptirhaititoriulmiso igniiin"
i he passed, in ha *spilling 6 leant what
r whiskers. Coshed by him intelho Airelet; ..
says 1w /*Mind Rink lYing on 11k0 dibOr. 10 that
he was killed. Ile floater stated, dint after
assisting hint. lie ran otit in' pOrsuit of the
ninrdeier, Gillowittst- him down Chesnut kiwi,
rind in-mt kited of hint in Ilighth *wet: -' 'Hair.
knowletigra having left dtagett'a umbrella in
Rink* AWN!. Illti dint; ataxatuta tor it, as well
as fur. Ins being seen mining.; Wit. doea. not
I say why he dill mngive thin altra, or matte
this statement before--nor -does he .. gire o :any
• reason tor not ' returiiiiik fin. WS•nitilniella.
That he committed ther'rottriler' there 'ettti
mean:Ay be a iloubt•nnw entertained.' , :
1 More about , Arthur Spring:l,,
Every day serves nide/440p saw 'pew anus
either with regent to thektAttiOipatima af.itthur
':liirlug, in the Retleral street trimly. Ow itittk
murder. dr apple long dietten crime,.lic pin
the lasi twenty -four hours the turndefile )H.
Item Hope, Of Xhiggesiiiiig, which •Wils'evittittitt
te.l about ttenee yeast "On: hag lean — WOW
pretty closely to Arthur Sprit% Hope-was
proprietor dr if tnitkillinif efthekwiitive named
place,-and kept a stand itelattutkea atreetteherit
Juniper. imulefliririS irk rrilri o f the.iifftlY of dkr
dot r Spring. - frinn which be sold' the Prialuce Of
his farm. lie WAA a kindiheattistkliabeitt: Main.
acid becacne. texpiainted.with Spnittp. , 84110 001
grog on go be en that lw ha g hat Spring mom" .
at different ea. Veil tlieott. Wattling ,
existed bet wren. them; . • ~• . r' •
tiering . .iiiiki roil?, ••rwiirlr tke.tenek farm.
niel was n ten . seen in totniutaw withi t ‘tr. Untie,
tenth'there' Mid ire this 'city. flute ltiOrninti Mr.
Hope was %will ahonalWen# yards. from big
own gate, must !tenthly mangled a:align . ..aid
with All ave. which wa,s discovered; ithOrt dis
tance 4, and whiellinto ignited Wittelbe-Ideod
of the unfortunate Ir. lino). • *Auk ittzu tiro
the afternoon and evening *ilias..
,The totuk
iii....ie
der d the most intone eacitenamt 'at the
tune among the astounded,tiiieletnir At KlN
aessing. and every effort iii,fett . olit the pep.
knitter of the appalling Oft' y,Wao . ditale in
vain. Time rolled on, and' lute taunter wag al
most forgotten and would not at the present
time have been thought of lint tor. he . mend
Idevelopmetits, vtliieh fasten the Murder Of two
women bii . Sprlit.' ' ' ' ' '
Mr. Hope had tinittsidenthlrainount oftnon
ey, which he keptin o.ten-plate stove; (oh ttn-
Iltillal place,) and which escaped the reasaciong
luenda of the relentlesa.yillain. who perpetrated
that, grog lona,. Deplorable and lamentable tra
gmly. ~ It Will b d
e rememberte tat pan* Ar
thur Sitting; in big evidence 0 the recent trial.
oda that his father told hint that he. killed a
man, expecting to get a 'large sum of money.
but did not get a d-41entit.' ' It is quite likely
that the weetehed father in that conversation
%timbal to.the. murder of Mr. llope.
Indeed, when the facts are taken into con
sidenitimi that Spring used to visit the Cann,
and' ag seen there in the evening before the
niorning,the niunteried body was found, and
that he has been proven to lie the man yairi.
committed the appalling. butchery of two wo
-11)V,E1 ill Federal street, together with hisextra
ordinary acquisitiveness, scent to leaky wit
I quite as strong a cave against him in this, as
iii the intirder of Mr. Rink. NV e also learn that
•' an old lady who still lives at Kingsessing, n -
, members some of the facts, hut she is too old
and feeble lo give anything likes connected ac
count; such as would warrant a etroviction of
Spring.—PAito. Argus.
NEU