i
' III I '
VOL 5.M 26.
BY S. B. ROW.
CLEAEFIELD, PA., "WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 23, 1859.
For the "Raftsman's Journal."
BE A MAN :
Oil, AN KXrOSTCLATIOX WITH THE FRETTING
AXD FAl'LT-riXDlXG.
BY 1M1AX.
Cease your whining, cease your fretting,
Cease your railing at your lot;
You're no time for useless dreaming ;
These complainings proQt not.
What if life is not all pleasure,
Fretting wont relieve the pain;
Noble souls bare never leisure
At misfortune to complain.
Meet misfortune's drooping willows
As the sailor meets the storm ; .
Just to ride upon its billowr,
Till they bear him to his bourn.
Catch the brcexc, or you'll succeed not ;
Life's for labor, not for sport :
Quiet seas thy way will speed not ;
Calms wont bring thee into port.
If you would yourself be happy.
You must happiness impart ;
Ulcus your neighbors all around you ;
"Twill return to your own heart.
Let your sympathies (low outward ;
With the sorrowfnl condole :
Let your smile be like the sunshine,
Cheering every weary soul.
All that you may be desiring.
May not be within your power;
Vet uliKt Uod is now requiring,
la. IHj well the present hour,
tio and now relieve life's sorrow;
Let not indolence prevail :
Jla who waits until to-morrow
To do good, will surely fail.
Let your aim be high and holy.
And your motives strong and true:
Life has pleasures for the lowly;
Life has something still to do.
Idle bands are always weary ;
Selfish nature's know no joy ;
Loving souls are ever cheery ;
Toiling spirits never cloy..
Onward, upward, mounting higher
On each wave-top, as it rolls :
Fill your hearts with manly fire;
Labor is for manly souls.
Fight Cod's battles, till your master
Bids you lay your armor down:
lie has a reward prepared ;
Bear the cross and wear the crown.
A NIGHT OF TERROR.
Xight came slowly down over the rude hut
of James Moreland the settler. The wild, moun
tainous region round ahout, and the gathering
gloom ol the near darkness, combined to chill
the heart of the lonely woman in the wilder
ness cot, with a strange, dread fear.
Two years before had the sun ol aJ unc morn
ing Rhone upon Ellen Harper's marriage with
the man of her choice; and the lamps in a
festive hall in the fine old city of Portsmouth
had gieanied upon the evening's revelry. El
len was a belle and no wonder that in honor of
her peerless beauty and her husband's worth,
the red wine had flowed freely, and the song
and jest sparkled bright from .the lips of
youth and loveliness.
But young Moreland was possessed of a wild
spirit of adventure, and life in that quiet old
city ill fitted bis adventurous nature and so it
came about that before the moons of the first
year had waxed and waned upon their bridal
ky,the happy couple found themselves estab
lished in a log hut lar up among the White
Mountains. '
Ellen was very peaceful and contented there,
for she possessed the undivided love of her
husband ; and by-and-by a little blue-eyed-bale
came to cheer her forest home.
But on this night, a vague undefined sense
of evil seemed to be about her, and she arose
frequently to gaze into the thickening gloom.
James was abroad upon the mountain in search
of venison, and she had not heard the report
of his rifle fur many an hour it wa singular
thai he should remain away from her until '
after nightfall.
There were tribes of hostile Indians in the
viciniry ; there were wild, fierce animals in
every copsewood,and gorges of death on either
side of the dangerous pathway over the moun
tain. Her imagination conjured up an hun
dred phantoms or evil centering all around her
husband, nntil her brow grew cold and clammy
with the sweat of fear, and her heart was ready
to stop its throbbings at the faintest sound of
the homeless wind in the forest depth.
Her child, the four months old little Rachel ;
slept peacefully in her rough cradlenot a rip
ple of doubt or apprehension disturbing the
calm pulsation of her heart, or troubling the
smiling dimples about her rosy mouth.
"Uod bless the darling " ejaculated Ellen
Moreland, pressing a light kiss upon the fore
head of her child ; and then taking np her
knitting she sal down in the light or the pitch
torch in the wide stone fire place, and tried to
work. Jt was in vain. She could not employ
her hands while her mind was in such a per
turbation, and rising impatiently she opened
the door and looked. forth. A dull, gray mist
Jiy upon the peak of distant Kearsarge, and
far to the West the kingly summits of the
White Mountains loomed sombrely through
the brooding atmosphere. There was an omin
ous stillness over everything, but far down in
the dismal pine forest, back of the cabin,
there was a low, indistinct innrmur the un
failing precursor of a storm. What if her hus
band had wandered tar in pursuit of game,and
t so great a distance from home, that the nar
row track thither had became invisible and
unknown I What if he was destinued to re
turn to her nevertnere ?
A nervous tremor shook her frame, and she
went back pale and trembling to the side of
her infant.
Hark ! was. that the wind 1 -or the cry of a
wild animal I
The woman's heart hushed its beating, and
f.he bent low her ear to listen, again far away
yet distinctly heard. She threw open the
door, and stood breathless waiting the recur
rence of the sound. Ah ; but she recognized
it too well, It was the war-hoop of a squad of
Indians ; their terrible cry of victory over a
pursued foe ! She" needed no other assurance
than her dread feari to convico her that it was
her linslmnd !
' She offered one wild prayer for aid, and then
relumed to the room she bad left; she took
her infant, still in a quiet sleep, and wrapping
it warmly in a blanket, carried it out into the
dense thicket in the rear of the hut ; for she
knew enough of the Indian character to feel
assured that whether they captured her hus
band or not, they would be sure to destroy
the dwelling.
Commending her child to God, she left it
there, and went back toward the cabin, hoping
-the could not understand why-that she might
be able to do something to save brr husband
She corfealrd herself in a bunch of whor
tleberry bushes, and had barely done so when
he heard the tread of raoccasincd feet upon
t he thick leaves, and almost felt the hot pant
ing of savage breaths on the air. In the faint
light which shone from the open door of her
borne, she saw her hnsband stricken down by
a blow from a skillfully aimed tomahawk, and
heard the deep groan which burst l'rtm bis
lips as he fell.
She partially understood the Indian dialect
from having beard it frequently spoken by the
wandering members of the different tribes who
had from time to time called at the cabin for
food and drink and now from the hasty consul
tation among the red warriors, she gathered
that they were to scalp h?r husband, murder
his family and fire the house.
The leader of the gang raised his scalping
knife over tl.e unconscious victim, but anoth
er Indian detained the blow. Mrs. Moreland
plainly heard his words
"Stay, brother ; let us kill the squaw, and
the young papoose, and have the light of the
wigwam to scalp him by !"
This speech was met with favor, and with
one simultaneous rush, they made for the
house, leaving one of their number to guard
the captive.
Instantly, with the speed of light, Ellen
Moreland flew from her covert and springing
to the entrance of the hut, closed noiselessly
the heavy oaken slab which served as a door
and thrust a stout stick through the great iron
staple, which held it firm. The savages were
as safe as though the walls of a Baslile shut
them in for the but was built of ponderous
unhewn logs pinned together by strong bolts
the only break in the walls being the door;
for in those days in that savage region, win
dows were a species of comfort unknown.
But the Indian that had been left without to
guard the captive, saw the deed, and with a
fierce cry of rage be hurled his tomahawk at
the brave hearted woman J Fortunately it
missed aim and sunk into the doer just over
her shoulder. With an effort of great strength
she wrested it from the slab, and stood with it
in her hand awaiting the onslaught.
With his hunting knife brandished aloft, his
eyes glowing like live coals, he sprang upon
her, and buried the knife in her side ! She
closed her arras about him ; a desperate strug
gle, and the tumahawk of the treacherous
Fcgnawket entered his own brain ? One hor
rible yell, and he sank backward upon the
turf a corpse !
In the meantime, the efforts of the impris
oned savages to break their bonds were never
released for a moment. Frantic blows loll fast
and furious upon the door, and Ellen knew
that in time, it would yield to their assaults
and set them at liberty. There was but one
way to avert this it was a terrible alternative,
and for a moment her woman's heart shrank
from its contemplation.
But the thought of her sleeping child and
her murdered husband, decided her, and she
had strength for the work. She drew from
her pocket a tinder box which every settler
kept about the person in ci.se of accident, and
struck a light to the dried leaves, round about; j
then invoking God's pardon for the act, ig
nited a pine torch and threw it upon the crixp
cd bark roof of the hut. It was but an in
stant; the flames leaped up and danced merri
ly over the flammable material, then commu
nicating to the hay stored in the loft, they
streamed np until far and wide the grim old
mountains glowed like watch fires in the glare.
But Ellen was hardly satisfied with the pro
gress of the fire. Close by the hut in a rude
outhouse there were some barrel of pitch,
gathered from some of the pine trees a round, to
supply the nearest market place. She took a
shovel and from these barrels bedaulied the
outside walls of the house, until the heat from
the fire drove her back, when retiring toward
her husband, she watched the ravages of the
flames.
It was terrible. The cries of the Indians
when they realized the snare into which they
had fallen, were enough to appal the stontcst
heart. Groans, shrieks, mad execrations and
curses upon the damnable pnle face who had
given them such- a fate ! But all was vain.
The burning mass from the lol't fell in npon
them, the red hot walls glowed and seethed as
the fire communicated itself to the pitch, the
cries of the perishing savages grew fainter,
the blows upon the door ceased, and the wait
ing woman without knew that the work was
done.
Then with an almost bursting heart she
approached her husband. If for a moment
she wavered in her pnrpcse,if she had thought
of relenting, the feeling was changed to hard
and impassible stone, when she lilted up the
bloody head of him she loved so well, and
saw the deep, fearful gash in his deathly fore
head ! The clots of blood concealed his fea
tnres,rhis eyes were closed, his face like the
face we sec under coffin lids, and his hair
that soft, brown hair which had been bis wife's
pride, was dripping heavily with his life-blood.
In that hour she forgot her babe, forgot her
ruined home ; her memory went back to those
long sunny days, upon the shore of the blue
sea, those walks npon the golden sands with
James by her side, on those quiet evening
musings upon the gray head lauds, when he
sat weaving sea-weed wreaths, low at her feet.
She remembered it all, even the very shine
with which the June moon used to silver that
calm sea, and the fairer light which burned in
her heart, when one hand held hers and one
voice whispered that she was dearer to one
heart than all the jewels which Eastern princes
held, far over that glittering sea
It all came back to her, fearfully vivid and
distinct from the contrast, and alone in the
dark night, with the light of her burning
home pouring its red baptism over her, she
held the inanimate body of her husband in
her arms, and thought with piled up agony of
the past.
She thought she felt the cold form tremble;
it was a glorious thonght. It infused new
life into her veins and courage to her heart.
She started up, and tearing open his vest,
placed her hand ujion the fountain of life.
Oh, what a wild cry of joy rose to ber lips.
"He lives, he lives. Thank God !"
She resorted to every means in her power,
they wero but little, alas ! how very little to
. -w J A LI
restore Dim, and iieaven was pieaseu to mess
her efforts with success. Breath came back
to James Moreland's nostrils, and life and
warmth to his heart. His first words, when he
opened his eyes, were but an added assurance
of hit fervent love.
"My wife Ellen Iieaven be praised. She
.Km
Then ho sank upon her bosom and said no
RitL hi lived : that was enough, and
the brave woman, casting aside all thought of
bcrself,and regarding as nonght the Increasing
pain in her woundod side, prepaied to go for
assistance. The nearest settlement was two
miles up the valley, but, what to her was fat-
igue and exposure.
She sought the thicket where she had hid
den her infant It still slnmbered,and caret nl
ly removing it she brought it to the side of
its father. Then divesting herself of her shawl
and apron, she wrapped the injured man ten
derly in their folds and committing her bus
band and child to the care of Heaven she set
forth upon her errand, carrying a pine torch
to light the tortuous way. Night hung dense
and palpable over the earth ; not a star or a
a gleam of-light over the battlements of the
grim mountains ; but she faltered not. Wild
animals infested the whole valley, but the
panther shrunk away from her white face with
a growl of discontent, and the cowardly wolf
hid himself in the nnderwood as her torch
went by.
At length after a toilsome tramp of an honr
or more, she "reached the dwelling of the
nearest settler, and aroused his family.
Peter Kenney And his three stalwart sons
were dismayed when they looked into the face
of their visitor, with the blood trickling down
her dress from the gash in her side ; but their
countenances burned with impatience when
she related to them in a few hurried words the
events of the night, begging them to go with
her to her husband.
Xo entreaties were needed to move those
hardy fellows to action in a case where hu
manity was concerned, and in the space or
five minutes a rude litter had been constructed
of interlaced boughs, across which a bed and
some quilts were laid, and then each armed
with his trusty rifle, the four, men act forth
for the scene of desolation.
Ellen Moreland refused to remain at Mr.
Kenney's house during the absence of the
men on the errand of mercy, and not all the
entreaties and expostulations of the kind
hearted settler's wile could move her from her
purpose. She must go back to her treasures,
and so, declining to occupy the litter, she
went on before the little cortege faith and
hope lending vigor to her frame and elasticity
to her step.
When one of his sons were urging her to
accept of the little conveyance, Mr. Kenney
said :
Lct her alone, John, the good Lord will
give her strength and shut the jaws of the
panther."
The devoted woman reached her husband
some time before the others,and she was more
than rewarded lor her exertions by the favor
able change which had come ever him. A
faint color flushed his face, and the handker
chief she had bound around bis head, hd
staunched the flow of blood.
Little Rachel, nestling up close to her
father's side, still slept one of her tiny
hands dabbled in the blood w hich had oozed
from the wound in his forehead the other
supporting her smiling cheek a picture of
unconscious innocence and beauty.
They put the father and child together up
on the litter, and then went out to look at the
smoking ruins of the cabin. The charred re
mains of the savages could lie perceived amid
the embers, and they left them there undis
turbed ; feeling that Ellen Moreland had done
only her duty in thus destroying them- The
next day, the settlers of the upper valley
gathered together, and casting the body of
the unburned Indian into the ashes with the
rest, they covered the place with the sods of
the hill side.
James Mo eland lived, but his illness was long
and tedious. He has before him an ever pres
ent remainder of the heroism of his wife, for
since that night her right arm has hung use
less at her side. The wound inflicted by the
Indian's scalping knife was near the arm pit,
and although it did not mortify, it palsied the
vital energy of the limb.
Her husband blesses her every day for her
heroic conduct at the time when he was bro't
so near the domains of death, and her daugh
ter, now the wife of a distinguished statesman,
prays that she may bestow upon her two no
ble boys something of the spirit and bravery
of their grandmother.
The burnt cabin was never re-built ; More
land removed to Dover, from thence to Port
land Me., where he became an extensive ship
builder but he never forgot the night of
terror.
Rilled while Robbing bis own Hocse.
The Milwaukee Sentinel gives the following :
We learn that on Wednesday or Thursday
night last the Treasurer of the town of Erin,
Washington county, whoso name we believe,
was Whaling, was shot dead while attempting
to rob his own house. It appears that he had
collected some twelve or fifteen hundred dol
lars of the town taxes, and left home in the
afternoon, telling his wife that he should be
gone all night. Toward evening a travelling
peddler applied at the House for a night's
lodging. The wife at first refused to admit
hiiu, but finally yielded, with much reluctance
to his request. Some time in the night the
peddler was awakened by the noise of men
breaking into bis room. Taking them for rob
bers, he drew a pistol and fired at them. One
fell and two fled. Lights being procured, the
dead body of a man, with blackened face and
otherwise disguised, was found upon the floor.
Upon further examination it proved to be the
proprietor of the house himself, who had re
sorted to this stratagem to steal the tax-money
collected, and had met with this terrible ret
ribution !
Siiaep, SnARpr.a, Sharpest. They have a
sharp set of fellows in Kansas City. We
heard a good story of a trick played by one of
the residents of that city a short time ago.
A lean, lank, sallow faced individual rode a
mule into Kansas City and wanted to sell him.
A genius, standing by, offered to sell him for
five dollars. The offer was taken, and the
mule disposed ot ; the auctioneer warranting
a good title. The purchaser had scarcely got
his mule home, when a Shawnee Indian came
into the city in search of a mule that had
been stolen from him. The auctioneer was
on hand again, and offered to show the Shaw
nee where the mule was, if he would plank
down a V. The Indian paid, and the auction
eer after pointing out tbe mule, went to the
now nnrehaser. and told bim how the case
stood, at the same time ottering to run "the
mule across tne river ior ien aouars. ine
bargain was struck, and the auctioneer moun
ted the mule, and that was the last that has
been seen of the auctinecr or th mole.
Lecrcenieorrh Timet.
SENTENCE OF MARION CROPP.
We publish, by request, the sentence deliv
ered by Judge Price in tbe case of Marion
Cropp, who was recently found guilty of the
murder of Robert M. Rigdon, a police officer,
in Baltimore, on the 5th of November last.
Rigdon, if we teeotleet aright, had given tes
timony, which caused his conviction, against
a man named Gambrill, who belonged to the
same gang of desperadoes with Cropp, and to
avenge his comrade, Cropp entered the house
of Rigdon and killed him in the presence of
his family. The sentence is somewhat re
markable, and has attracted considerable at
tention. On Saturday, Jan. 29th, the prisoner
was placed at the bar, when the Judge said :
Marion Crop, after a patient trial, you have
been found guilty, by the unanimous yerdict
of a jury of your conntry, of the highest Crime
known to our laws murder in the first degree.
Have you anything to say why sentence
shall not be pronounced upon you ?
The prisoner replied, "I have but a few
words to say. I am innocent ; I hate not had
a fair trial; a witness that swore against me
perjured himself, and jurors likewise. That
is all I have to say."
The Judge continued : Yours is no ordina
ry case of murder. On the contrary, it is a
most extraordinary one. Extraordinary, be
cause of the terrible wickedness of the motive
that prompted the atrocious deed ; extraordi
nary, because of the cold-blooded pertinacity
with which you dogged your inoffensive victim
from place to place, from street to street, and
from house to house ; extraordinary, because
of the place where your horrid deed was done
for at his own fireside on his own hearth
stone his wife by his side, in the very line of
your shot, and at ber feet, did Robert M. Rig
don, by your hands, fall, to rise in the majes
ty of his strength no more ; extraordinary, be
cause of the overwhelming strength and mass
of the evidence against yon. From the time
you were foiled in your attempt to rescne
Henry Gambrill from the officers of the law,
every step you took every action of your
body whether crouching at the lamp-post or
awning-post, or peeping into the window, the
deadly and heavily charged weapon you car
ried in your bosom and sometimes in your
sleeve, and every word yon uttered up to the
very place where this deed was done indica
ted the bloody purpose of the sonl ; and evon
there, at that little back window, in that little
alley, did yon leave the damning proof of your
guilt ; and afterwards, too, your own lips, and
your own letters, and your own witnesses on
the stand, spoke trumpet-tongued against you.
If the jury that tried you had found a differ
ent verdict, it would have shocked the entire
State. I believe it would have been felt from
the tops of the Allegheny mountains, in West
ern Maryland, to the sea-shore. I beliove it
Would have reverberated with deep, if not ter
rible significance, in every valley, from every
hill-side, in every city and town and hamlet
and fireside in the State. It would have gone
booming over the vast plains bordering the
Chesapeake, away down to where the ocean's
surf washes Worcester's shores More than
this, I believe the great trial by jury itself
would have felt the shock ; and that with a
few more such shocks it would have tottered
on its foundations, if not have fallen prostrate
bclore them, and been trodden under foot as
unfit for the times, and as an unreliable, faith
less and worthless thing.
Again. Of all the extraordinary things a
bout this case, the most extraordinary of all,
as it appears to me, is yourself. For eight long
days you and I sat here face to face. As the
case progressed and was developed as wit
ness was added to witness testimony on tes
timony facts piled on facts proof on proof,
I could not help looking into your countenance
to see if there was any emotion there. There
was none. The callousness, the stoical indif
ference, the fixedness, the hardness, the im
mutability of stone, and not of human flesh
and blood, were there and there always.
Your eye never quailed your brow never
flushed your cheek never blanched your
bead never dropped, throughout those eight
days, and not even at the rendition of the ver
dict. It is difficult to believe that a human
heart throbs in your bosom. What a contrast
you were to the learned, able and eloquent
counsel and accomplished gentleman by whom
your defense was with so much zeal and abili
ty conducted. I could see, in spite of him
self, his varying countenance, and his heart
sink within him. And your father, too, who
stood by your side, day by day notwithstand
ing a forced composure, I could see that he
carried a father's heart in his bosom, and I
thought I could almost see the iron as it en
tered his soul, and hope depart. But. as for
yon, throughout this entire case up to this
very hour you seemed to have been, and now
seem to bo entirely unconscious of the nature
of the terrible deed you have done, and of the
terrible pnnishment that awaits you, not only
in this world, bnt in that other world on the
threshold of which you now stand. Would to
God, for your own sake, that I could say some
thing to you in this solemn hour, that might
wake you to conscionsness and feeling that
I could make you in some measure, at least,
feel and understand the atrocity of tbe crime
you have committed. I feel my utter inabili
to to dose. I must leave this to other and
far abler lips than mine to the ministers of
God, who are appointed and accustomed to
turn the sinner from the road to bell to the
way to heaven. For
'There is a path that leads to God ;
All others go astray."
Tbe learned counsel, who with so much abil
ity and fairness aided in your prosecution, was
understood by me to have stated in his ad
dress to the jury, and in your hearing, that it
was impossible for any ono who was not in
Baltimore at Gambrill's trial, and at the time
of Rigdoo's murder, and who was not a part of
that community, to understand at all the deep
feeling of horror, indignation and abhorrence
with which your crime filled every heart in
that city. In this I incline to think he was
mistaken; and I will tell you why. But in
order to do so I must speak of myself; ot the
effect the news of your erime had on me.
And I shall speak to yon frankly and truthful
ly. I had not been in Baltimore city for some
week 8 before Gambrill's trial, nor was I there
during that trial, nor was I there for weeks af
terwards. I had read something but not much
concerning it. 1 bad returned from holding a
protracted court at tlkton, in Cecil county,
with a wearied brain and a wearied body, to
enjoy tor a day or two the rest of my home,
among the secluded and "beautiful hills of Deer
creek, in Harford county, fir from the turmoil
. of the great city where this deed ot yours was
done. On Saturday evening, the next day af
ter Friday, the fifth of November, the day of
your crime, I was sitting at mine own fireside,
my wife near me, my little children, their fa
ces bright and beaming with joy and gladness,
around me. My own heart was f ull overflow-Ing-with
tbe happincas of that hour, and, I
trust, with deep gratitude to God for all His
goodness. Some one, I do not know who,
handed me a package of newspapers from tbe
post-office. I picked np the Baltimore Sun of
that morning and opened it. One of my chil
dren playfully pulled it away ; I put her little
band aside and took it again. . .
In looking over the paper, the first thing
that attracted my notice was an editorial ar
ticle which appeared in the paper of that day,
announcing the murder of Rigdon. I had
been familiar with the details of crime, of ev
ery line, bnt this article riveted my attention.
As I read, I held my breath. I felt a thrill
through every nerve. My right arm grew hard
and strong. It was with an effort that I pre
vented myself from springing to ray feet. I
was never before so moved by tbe recital of a
deed of crime. It was not fear it was not
terrors-no, nothing like it. I will frankly tell
you what it was. i felt that a datk spirit of
vengeance had. uninvited, entered my soul.
To be sure, In a moment it was gone; but a
shadow was left bebind-a dark shadow, as
from tbo wing of n raver), and the happiness
and brightness Which had just filled my heart
was changed, as by the wand of an enchanter,
into sadness and gloom.
I think, therefore, althongh afar off, I then
felt and understood something ot the deep feel
ing which pervaded that city. You may thank
your God that this deed of yours was not done
in some communities in this land. Had it
been, Lynch law, that very hour, and at the
very next lamp-post, would have been your
certain doom.
I rejoice to know that the people of Balti
more at that trying moment, although greatly
excited and deeply stricken with horror at
your crime, did not lose their presence of
mind, or reverence for the law of the land. I
rejoice to know that yon had ample time to
prepare lor your defense, and thatyoii have
had a patient, separate, impartial and legal
trial. I well know there is a point beyond
which human forbearance cannot easily go,
and that point you and your associates bad
passed.
I believe that thousands of people in this
State, outside of the city of Baltimore, felt as
I did first, the dark spirit of wrath and ven
geance, and then gloomy sadness shroud the
soul. For it is truly and expressively sad to
know that such a cold-blooded and brutal mur
der could have been done by one reared in a
Christian land among a Christian people, and
in the city of Baltimore, too the centre of
civilization of the State where public schools
and Sunday schools abound, and churches
without number, from the humble and unpre
tending little chapel or meeting-house to tbe
lofty cathedral.
. If you had never entered the threshold of
one of these sacred edifices, nor heard the
preacher's voice, nor the deep tones of the or
gan, nor the solemn chant, nor the simple
hymn of praise, yet you must have seen the
outside ol these church structures their lofty
spires pointing to the skies, and ever inviting
yon to lift your eyes to look upward. And
you must also have oftentimes seen your fellow-creatures
crowding the courts of these
sanctuaries, and mnst have known their object
and purpose. This fact alone might, one
would suppose, have been sufficient to have ar
rested your attention and caused you to stop
and tkiuk. And on God's holy day, if at no
other time, you must have heard the church
bells resounding from every steeple and rever
berating throughout every street, alley and
house in that city, summoning all to worship
Him to offer the sacrifice ot praise and of
prayer and thanksgiving.
You must have beard these church bells. In
your boxing den" you must have heard
them in your "gambling hell" you must have
heard them in the filthy brothel, iu the har
lot's embrace, you must bave heard them, ev
erywhere you must bave heard them sum
moning yoa from the road to bell to the way
to heaven ! And that human heart of yours
for in spite of all contrary appearances, you
must at least bave a human heart in your bo
som. My reason tells me so. It cannot be of
stone for you could not live if it were of
stone. Tbcu this human hoart of yours must
have felt, and often, too, at different periods
of your life, the "stings and arrows of a guil
ty conscience." And the spirit of God, too,
must have, time and again, made its power
felt in the deepest recesses of that beait of
yours. To be sure, God has said, "My spirit
shall not always strive with man, whose breath
is in bis nostrils." He does some times say,
"Let bim alone ! He is joined to his idols
let him alone ! This may be your case it
may be that this is the secret of the whole
matter the key that unlocks tho mystery of
your iniquity, and that we have at last found
"tho true theory of this case." God grant
that it may uot be so !
You and I are about to part to meet no more
until we both shall stand at the last day before
the same judgment seat the throne of God.
And before we part I would Bay to you one
thing more, you need not expect mercy in
this world, you will not receive it. Do not
hope for it. The sooner you abandon all hope
or expectation of it the better for you. You
must turn tor mercy from man to God ; and
you cannot even expect it there till that iron
heart of yours melts as tbe iron melts in the
furnace of fire.
A prophet of God once spoke to a King
these words : "Set thine bouse in order, for
tbou sbalt die, and not live." And we are
told the King "turned his face to tbe wall and
prayed." These words, Marion Cropp, I now
solemnly speaK to you. "Set thine house In
order, for tho shall die and not live." And
let me beg you, lor your own sake, do as the
king did, "turn your face to tho wall acd
pray" unto God. I would entreat you, I would
implore you. O, do not, for your father's
sake, whose gray hairs are now bowed iu sor.
row lor your father's sake, whose heart is
now rent with anguish for your own soul's
sake, O, do not die as the brute dies.
The judgment of tho Court is that you Ma
rion Cropp, be returned to the city of Balti
more, where this morder by you was commit
ted and this indictment found, and to tbe jail
of that city from whence you came ; that you
he taken from thence to tbe place of execu
tion, at such time as shall be duly appointed by
tbe Governor of the State, and that you then
and there be hanged by the neck till you are
deed. And may God have mercy on your sou!.
ExPAJtsiox. President Buchanan has an
nounced in a speech delivered at Washington,
in response to a serenade given to him on the
occasion of the passage of the Oregon bill,
that "expansion ia in tutnra the policy of our
ountry,and that only cowards feared and op
" posed it." The expansion to w hich our bold
and. dashing youug President alludes, ia not
expansion of the currency, to which, we pre
sume, he remains as much opposed as ever
but an expansion of territory. Recent expe
rience might, however, raise the quest inn
whether the one sort of expansion is not quite
as much the high road to bankruptcy as the
other. In what has the present enormous in
crease of our national expenses' originated, if
not in the policy of territorial expansion, set
on loot by the acquisition of Texas, and fol
lowed up by the Mexican war, resulting in a
vart expansion of territory and' attended by
art expansion or expenditure equally vast ?
Mr, Vice President Brcckeuridge, on tho
same occasion, though be modestly left to tbe
President or the first officer of tbe Govern
ment the promulgation of thin doctrine of un
limited expansion as the settled policy of the
country, did yet take occasion to declare him
self in favor of the specific acquisition of Cu
ba. He says be "would not rob for it ;" not,
however, it would seem, because he has any
scruples of conscience on that score, but by
cause he seems to apprehend that', to use Mr.
Buchanan's expression, the nation is too cow
ardly to adopt as yet that compendious" ructb
od of operation. He gently hints that, com
parison with tbe English, we are sadly defi
cient in national pluck. Mr. Breckeuridge
complains that we talk a great deal, but do'
very little. That, personally, he has no ob
jections, "to rob for it," is'plain enough from'
tbe artful manner in which he endeavors, by
appeals to the national pride and by contrast
ing American with British promptitude, to"'
stimulate the conntry to tho robbery point.
Tho English, he tells us, don't talk ; they act.
It tbe Island of Cuba, instead of being plac
ed at tbe mouth of the Gulf of Mexico, lay
at the opening of the British Channel, Eng
land would take it in ten days.r The impli
cation plainly is that, if we wero not a pack
of cowards, letting 1 dare not wait upon I
would, we should take Cuba in ten days.
As the Democratic party bave placed their
founder Jefferson 'oh tbe shelf, as a well-meaning
enough old gentleman but quite mistaken
in bis political ideas, and as' they utterly re
pudiate the cardinal doctrine of the Declara
tion ot Independence, we assume that hence
forth, on the occasion of Democratic celebra
tion of tbe Fourth of July, the reading of that
document will be' dispensed with, and the Os.
tend Manifesto substituted in its place. Trib
Bones for Trees. Bones are always accu
mulating in villages and aliout country rest
dences which might be put to a better use'
than to encumber the streets, or to emit a,
disagreeable odor from under the fences.
There is nothing like decaying bones forall
sorts of fruit trees.' They are perhaps best
for pear trees, next for apples, and then for
quinces; but arc good for any kind of fruit,
unless it be cranberries, which seem to live
and grow on little but water. The true way
would be to make the bones into superphos
phate of lime by grinding, and' then adding
half their weight of sulphuric' acid, to be ap
plied in small doses every' year. But as there'
are not bone mills everywhere, and as the ma
king of superphosphate is a trade, which it
could hardly be recommended to all cultiva
tors to learn, the next best thing to be done is
to break them up into inch pieces and mix
them with the soil in which trees are trans
planted. From half a peck to a peck for
dwarf trees, and two to three ecks for trees
designed for standards, is enough. The ac
tion will be slow but very lasting, continuing
through tho life of an ordinary tree. Bones
are richly worth saving for' this' purpose; and
at the small price at which they can be bad
in most country places, they can be bought to
advantage. They render a' tree vigorous and .
healthy, and greatly improve its'lruit. It ir
not a bad plan to dig the soil about old trees.
Akericax Locomotives" ix Egypt. On tbe
railroad between Alexandria "(Egypt) and
Suez, recently finished, there are four locomo
tives two of them of English manufacture,
and the other two were built at the Tauutou
Works, Massachusetts. It seems that the
Pasha's ears are open to flattery, and the Eng
lish engineers, through their consul, used
every means to get rid of the American engi
neers. They were told' bv the railroad com-.
pany that the engines would' not'lie used, nf
their services would not' be needed. The ex
cuse for hauling them up was" that they were
not strong enough to haul the heavy trains.
One of the American ergifiecrs, getting an op
portunity to speak with the l'a&ha.told him he
would haul as many loaded cars as would reach
from one end of the road to tbe other. Ac-
cordingly, seventy-five heavily loaded cars r
(which were all they could muster) were put
in a train, the Pasha's own Car attached, ard
the whole were taken through to Sues, a dis-
tance of two hundred mites, in twelve hours, ;
making stoppages for fuel and water. Tbo
Pasha exclaimed, in Egyptian, "-God is great,
but a Yankee is very near perfection." On
bis return, he discharged the English engine '
drivers, and now uses the Taunton engines :
altogether. ....
Awrsixo. At Durham Assixes, a very deaf
old lady, who had brought an action for dama- '
ges against a neighbor, was being examined,
when the Judge suggested a compromise, and
instructed the counsel to ask her what she
would take to settle matters. "What will
you take I" asked tbe gentleman in tbe bob
tailed wig of the , old. lady. The old lady.;
merely shook ber head at the counsel, inform- t
ing the jury, in confidence, that "she was very
hard o' hearing." ., "His lordship wauts t
know what you will take 7" asked the counsel
again, this time bawling as loud as ever be
could in the old lady's ear. "I thank bis
lordship kindly." the ancient darae answered -:
stoutly, "and if it's'no ill convenience to biro, ,
ril takt a u-artn ale." Roars of laughter. J
Fanny Fern says "if one-half of the grrTs
knew the previous life of the men they marry,
the list of okl maids would be wonderfully tie- -increased,"
and the Boston FoW adds that If ,
the men could ouly look into the future life
of tbe women they marry the number of old
maids would be greatly advanced.; - ' '
- -,,. i J,
Adapt your means to your ends. Don't try
to pick up els with a yair of tongs.
7