wb- 'Ml"l'll'al'IIIIIBaii''i 1 W - - 2.09 - 2.:o ,. 2o.0o 3 O.o j t 8.03 lrP to ' tL,T it: : r :.e ) J ..At L?- at I wrTVTwxr-fi. Editor and Proprietor. - r I 'tTTnKER. Editor and Proprietor. t'J&Fn&CUMXSOX, Publisher. OLTJME 7. fl(iT OF POST OFFICES J VII JJutnett. fUTea Li., ivans, uarroiu Henry Nutter, Chest. A. G. Crooks, Taylor. -J. Houston, . Waahint n. John Thompson. Ebensburg. ess SpnngM nemaugn, Vesson, ens"-1 Ilea Titter, C. Jeffriee, v nite. Gallitiia. Waeht'n. Johnst'wa. Loretto. : ilunster. J. M. Chri3ty, ; Wm Tiley, Jr., I. E. Chandler, M. Adlesberger, A. Durbin. Andrew J Ferral, Susq'ban. Stan. barton, George Berkey, B. M'Colgan, George B. Wike, Wo. M'Connell, J. K. Shryock, Clearfield. Richland. Washt'n. Croyle. . Washt'n. S'merhill. i'.p Level, jerbill, ...rnf llCS, MINISTER S, I ......HiT. T.M. Wnsos, Pastor. every Sabbath morning at 10 j reaching eW , Rt 7 0'clock. Sab clock, and in the e-.ufe Pravermeet th School at o clock, A. M. 1 rayermeet - tverv Thursday evening at 6 o'clock. . - - T?v J Pf.5HI50. AS- er in cuarc. ....--- - t.,,,;nr, Avprv alternate babbatn alternate a ni n c ock. Sabbath School at 9 'ftTJkf A.M. Prayer meeting every Wednc t -vninp, at 7 o'clock. Preaching every Sabbath morning at . v n,l in the evening at G o'clock. ilbJih i.kool at 1 o'clock, P. M. Praytr the trst Monday evening vi cam LliJ ; an on everj luu-uaj, UJ - m . . 3 . TlitipEiiar n n 1 ticvpuiig tne nroi wtrcn. iu ir!i p; until. Cjlrhiitic MiOiOditly-zr. aionua x., iitur. l'reCL.iIi CVin i'"b .siid G o'clock. Sabbatu fcchooi ai i u uu, .. M. Vi:ncr meeting every I nir evening, "oViGv'k. SocietT eterV 'lucsiay evening '.l 7 t O LlOCh.. DUeiel't Re v.W. Lloyd, Pastor. rreaeu- ig ertry Sabbath inornit g at 10 O ciCCK. Particular lipfists Kkv. DatID Evaxs, 'jistor. Preachinir every Sabbath evening at 'c.'ock. Sabh.uh' Schc Jl ut at 1 o'clock, Y. M. C.iiulicr.e.-. V-- C. CHKisiT, Pastor. - : i es every Sabbath morning ut 10 o'clock i ofperi at 4 o cloth in tne et ening. UliCVSOLRG 31A1I.S. MAILS AliRlVE. i.-ru, duilv. at 12.C0 o'clock, noon. t.-Ltrti, at 1 .oc & cioct, noon. mails .:luse. dailv, at 8 o'clock, P. M. at 8 o'clock, P. M. rn, T'i, . in-t-'s frcm N'n-miTi's Mills. Car- - t- on Monday, Wednesday t:. 1 Frid.-v of each week, at 3 o'ciock, P. M. Leave Ilbensbur cii Tuesdays, Thursdays izd taluruavs, at . o tioca., .-::;:ssox station'. Weet P.alt. Express leaves at 0.17 A. M. " I'LiJii. EjcpitiS " lu.'-T A. M. Fa . t Line P. M. .Mai Train " t.'JS P. -M. Pitts. Erie Ejc. 8. Id A. M. Aliuona Accoci. " 4.30 P.M. L.t I'iiila. Express " $.10 P. M. Fast Line " 1.43 A.M. lay Esiirtss Pitts. & Erio Mai! Train Alt ona Ace 7.03 A.M. 12.22 P. M. 10.57 A. AI. do p. m. Ex. 4i 41 in. (Ol'MV OFFICERS. r f the Cf'trtt President Hon. Geo. , 11 r.Titing-ion ; Associates, George W. , lier.ry V. levine. h 'H'-tjry Jccjh M'Donal 1. irr itnd Rrt-vrdrr James GriEn. T J.!'M5 My.-r?. .!; A'tom-;;. Philip S. Koon. . . C 'mi"i')ti'rt John Campbell, Ed-'.i'.-.f?. V.. H. Dtrsnegan. :. tv C.f:uLaers William JI. Sech- v: hr. Tr t". r i 1.: : J I..TL c y. $ 1- u.e iKe. -"-'rr John Lloyd. ir(c(r.rt Georce M'CulIoufrh, rk l: r H, :o i'c 'ut. Irwin Ratledge. r U '. V.Tiliani J. Williams, Francis P. Jol.r. A. Kennedy. ,v Xurrryr.r. Henry Stanlan. '.t. -ASiiliam Flattery. ck'i.V Atrxr John Cox. r. of Cvtnmon Schoclt J. F. Condon. Encxsiu-RG BOR. OFFICERS. AT LAKfiE. Peace Harrison Kinkead, .-.11 i g. aters 1 T "... P.obe rt.J. r Philip S. Noon, AKel Jor.e?. NuirU J..n: Wm f Li'od. llAXli I. J oi. es. U. J 'fats. Jr. e . j dretuurtrQto. W. Oatman. c. r EAST W110. orris Peat. ..-.v.j.VM Hughes, Evan Griffith, ra. D. Davis, Mj. John , 4 '''P'CtOrt T:rhA r t:i.i ... t. . -r. Evans. J- A. Moore. r , , WEST WARD. - s.. . Th o?. J .Willi am ?. r" Council 1 - r ' r 3 . -ir n- vrawiora, James i'. f'taV ii- Kinkead, George W. va..f f Election. John D. Thomas 4or.Capt. llurnry. SOCIETIES, 4Vc. -' ummit Lod-e h" 12 A. Y. M. v'i? ill TT,M . .. . Tuesday of each month, ,t iV K VU IUC LO. O. IliLiani Lodge No. 425 I O h'-;;S Allows' Hall, EbeasW. U J edncdy evening. fc' lfn;rerance Div ision No. 84 Sons cf nil.. " 'emj-trance iiau, r.b- C T71 f- p T 1 1-, rr . - . .. j-t'erv atnrjay evening. npERMSOF SUESCKiTtIoN ' 'TIIE ALLEGIIANIAN . 2.00 IN ADVANCE, 53.00 AT THE END OF THE YEAR. OR EBENSjTORG, PA:., THXIRSDAY OCTOBER 19, 1865. Early Autumn. Along the brook the jeHoTr, golden Teeds, "With nodding plumes, stand idly swaying : ' there ; ' -: Above the stream the summer's flying seds, - Like tuneless insects, 11 the balmy air. A; golden light npon the mountain sleeps, ' .Hia feet are hid in Talley vapors wet ; ; The highland blackberry on the wooded steeps Wears its ripe berries of enamelled jet The pearly, clouds becalmed within the Eky, ; Edged with pale gold, like cummer castles stand, Seen in a vision by some dreamer's eye, ; Crowning the eunny slopes of fairy-land. The gentle winds scarce stir the fading leaves, Scarce move the brown and withered clo ver heads r-.. - . : And nndistarbed the busy epider weaves, - From bough to bough, her web of filmy threads. Warm on the grass the brooding sunbeam lies, The wandering airs are filled with faint perfume ; The gazer s eye along each ridge descries The upland sumach's crimson painted plume. Tpon the topmost spray the blackbird sings, With mellow note, his silver-throated song, The drowsy bee. with purple gossamer wings, Hums his low, surly hymn the whole day long. Idly I lie with half-shut, dreamful eyes, And listen to the sounds that fill the air The bee's low bum, the wind's melodious S'ghs, " The wanton blackbird twittering blithely there. ; Oh, Eoon will come the melancholy days, When nature seems to wear a hidden grief, And Lleak and bare will be thoe pleasant ways Where moaning winds shall whirl the faded leaf. AN ADVENT URE IN PARIS. It was durinhe first months of my residence in Paris, in tiie dajs of diaries X., and nearly five and thirty years ago. 1 had been to take a farewell dinner, and a temperate glass or two of Medoc, with a fellow townsman and neighbor of mine, who was on the point of returning to the paternal roof in SouierseLshire. lie had been studving medicine and th? elements of practical chemistry for the last year, under the watchful eye of his uncle, a pharniacieu in the Place Vendouie, and it was there, iu a small sky-lihtcd back room behind the shop, which fronted Na poleon's Triumphal Column, that we had our modest - pytuposiuui. 1 was loth to part with him, he had been so true a friend ; he it was who crammed me with colloquial French the popular idioms of the Parisian highways : who zaade me ac quainted with all the ins and outs, the by ways and the short cuts of old Lu'etia, and taught me how to solve the difficult problem of cutting my coat according to my cloth, which in those djys, was unfor tunately very scant indeed. It is not much to be ivondered at that I forgot the lapse of time, and that, when at length I screwed myself up to the pitch of hayiug the last adieus, and had torn myself away, it should be verging towards flip tm 9 f In iiira nf tli mnrninrr In fmfK . . o ", it was on the point of striking one when I left the house, and before 1 bad we 11 got clear of the broad '-Place," the hour had struck. At any other time I should not have cared a straw about this, but have walked on quietly to my lodgings in the Hue Richelieu; but now 1 knew that would be of no use. That old concentrated essence of verjuice, Ganache, the porter, to pave himself a little trouble, had detained my letters of a morning till I oame down, in stead of Eending them by .the yarcon to my room, on the fourth floor, and' I had quarreled with him in consequence, and given him notice to quit at the end of my month. ?ihceT5Ur'quarreLhe-had .used me savagely, and I knew he was no more likely to let me in after one o'clock than he was to-pay my tailor's bill. This reflection brought me to a stand still. What should I do ? Wh ere sho'dv l go: 10 increase my cnagrm it began to rain in a rather harp shower. In stinctively I faced about, ran across the Place, and got under shelter of the piaz zas in the Hue de Castiglione, just in time to save myself from a drenching torrent which burst cn the streets like a water spout. I was walking up anu down in the dark, taking counsel of myself, until the storm should cease, when 1 stumbled and tripped over somebody lying crouched up at the foot of a pillar. "Ia that you, Jacin?" said a rather whining voice, which seemed to proceed from some one in the act of waking from sleep. 'No," said I, "it isn't Janin ; who are you, and why are you lying here at this time of night V "Un pauvre aveugle I" said he; "I am waiting-here for my comrade, who is gone to the spectacle, and while he is getting his fill of it, I take my pastime on the cold stones." I thought it but a grim sort cf joke, and told him I should think better of "WOULD RATHER BE RIGHT TilAlfPRESIDENT. Eskby Clay. Janin if he were more considerate for bis I friend. V " : - The poor blind wretch, did not ajrree with me, and, to my. surprise, began via dicaticg the character 01 Janin. ? "You see, M'sieu," he said "if I am blind, Janin has good eyesight, and why should he not enjoy it T he may as well be blind as I, if he is to see nothings . One ehould not be selfish although one ia un fortunate.,, - While he was speaking, and I was in wardly admiring his simple magnanimity, Janin came up at a quick pace, and chant ing a lively ditty. "What, my philosopher 1' so you have company," he said ; "I am afraid I must disturb your conference." "Make no apology for that, I pray," said I ; "but if you can direct me to a lodging, I shall feel obliged." 4 You are English," said Janin ; "there is an English house in the Rue del'Odeon, which is always open till two ; if you make for the Pont Neuf at once, and step out, you will be there in good time." "Good night, then, my lads" and away I trudged at a round pace for the Pont Xeuf crossed it in a pelting shower, and made the best of way to the Rue de l'Odeon. I accounted myself fortunate in reaching the house a few minutes before the hour for closing the door, but found that I had not so much cause for congrat ulation as I had imagined, a? the place was full, and the only accommodation the landlady could offer me was a Email trundle-bed in a two-bedded room, already be spoken for the night by a previous comer. lieing wet through by the rain, and feeling that I should not mend matters by faring further, I wa3 fain to make a vir tue of necessity, and accept the trandle bea. Moreover, wishing to get out of my damp garments as quickly as possible, I asked for my candle, and was forthwith shown to the dormitory, which I found was up four flights of stairs. . I lost no time in getting between the sheets, but had no intention of coing to sleep until I knew at least what sort of a subject wa3 to be the companion of my slumbers. So I took a book from my pocket, and plac ing my candle on a chair by the bedside, began to read, resolved to keep my lighi burning and myself awake until the sound of footsteps on the stairs should apprise as of the approach of the stranger. Af ter the lapse of about half an hour, the sounds I was listening for approached, and then extinguishing the light, I laid tack, half-closed my eyes, and-affected- to sleep. The figure that now entered the room was not at all a fascinating one, to my view at least, lie was a man of about five and thirty, jauntily garbed in one of the pea-green, high collared surrouts cur rent among the fast men who affected the Luxembourg quarter of the Paris of that day, but which surtout, like the rest of his garments, seemed to have run all too sud denly to seed. There was something boozy and vicious in the expression of hLs face, which, spite of a fierce looking mus tache, gave one the idea of meanness aud servility, coupled with a reckless kind of bravado, which smacked rather of swag ger than of daring, and in every feature there was the impress of debauchery and intemperance, lie uttered a brief, common-place greeting as he entered the raom, but finding that I took no notice of it, probably concluded that I was asieep, and so said no more. In less than five minutes he had bun dled himself into bed and had put out the light; and after a lew minutes more, be gan to give audible tokens of the sound ness of his slumbers. Though I had formed the worst opinion of my compan ion, I did not feel the slightest alarm. He evidently had no hostile purpose ; he had no weapon of any kind, not even a stick, and I felt assured that in a person al encounter I could easily master him. Still, there was something in his wander ing eye, which never rested for a moment on a single spot, that I did not like, and I felt a little annoyed with myself that I had not placed my garments nearer my hand;"Jnstead of spreading them on chairs in the"middTe of the room,, in order to get them - dry. These thoughts, 'however, were but momentary, and in a very brief space I had forgotten cverythin'r in a tuiet slumber I suppose I may have slept about two hours, and the dawn was just breaking, when I awoke by a slight noise like some thing falling on the tiled floor of the apartment. Luckily, I did not start or make the least movement, bnt, half-opening my eyes, in the full consciousness of the situation, I saw that my companion was iu the act of getting out of bed. Ilis movements were so slow and cautious, and noiselessly made, that they roused my sus picion, and I watched him narrowly thro' my seemingly closed lids. With the stealthiness of a prowling cat, he got upon his feet, and, with hia eyes fixed upon me, advanced slowly to the foot of the bed. Ilis object plainly was to be sure that I slept ; and I took care to betray no Bigns of wakefulness that might undeceive him. After a statue-like watch of a few mo ments, he seemed to have assured himself of my slumbers, and, turning softly round, thrust his hand into one of the pockets of my pantaloons, and withdrawing the contents, retreated to his ted, carrying the plunder with him. Here he lay mo- minutes,- watching me attentively the while. At length he rais ed himself, and drawing a canTas bag from beneath his pillow, deposited within it the booty he had seized, replaced it, and lay jdown, as if to compose hiaiself to sleep. - " My blood was boiling in my vein3 at the fellow's impudent robbery, and I felt half inclined to rise and pummel him ass he lay, and recover my property. There was no occasion for hurry, however; and, reflecting that second thoughts are some times best, I lay scill, endeavoring to form some plan fur doing myself justice, if it might 1 be without a., scene of violence, which might he attended with unpleasant consequences, but faily determined to do battle for my own if no other alternative presented-itself. The contents of the pocket which the fellow had rifled amoun ted to about three "pounds English, all in five-franc pieces, which I had received from my friend of the night before in fi nal discharge of an accommodation ac count between us. . This was no great sum, to be sure, but it was more than I could then afford to lose; and indeed the idea of resigning it without a struggle was the last I should have thought of enter taining. ' While puzzling my brains for some practicable expedient, which, however, did not present itself, I could not help admiring the calm placidity of the coun tenance of the villain" who had robbed me, who, from his satisfied expression, seemed to be enjoying the consciousness of eome good action performed ; but in this I was much deceived. The rascal was no more asleep, than I was. If my anxiety and in- aiErnation were . . . perplexmsr me, his ap- preuecsions were at me same moment troubling him; and j ust as I was abandoning all hope of concocting a plan for the re covery of my money without fighting for it, a movement on his part put me in possession of one which had at least the promise of success. I saw him open hi3 eyes suddenly, and fix them full on me; then rising, he with drew the canvas bag once more from be neath his pillow, and stepped out of bed with it in his hand. There stood upon the window-sill a withered geranium in a glazed earthenware pot the plant was a mere stick, which had dried up and died for want of water. To my amazement the Ihief lifted the plant out of the pot by the stem, raising the earth in which it had grown, and which was all matted together by the joots, along with it ; he then de posited the bag in the bottom of the pot, and, replacing the plant, got quietly into bed once more. I saw at once that this move placed the result of the game very much in my own hands, and I soon made up my mind how to act. I do not suppose that either of u?5 went to sleep again; aud I have often thought since, what a curious study we must have presented to any concealed spectator who might have been in the se cret of our relative predicaments during the following two hours or so. I knew, of course, that my light-fingered friend would not think of rising till I was up and gone ; having placed his booty where he might reasonably deem it beyond the pos sibility of recovery, he was doubtless pre pared to outface any suspicion or accusa tion that might ba made against hiin, and therefore he would lie there till he had the field to himself. Accordingly, about seven o'clock, I got up, deliberately washed and dressed, and, having finished my toilet, was almost ready to start, being well aware all the time that the fellow, who was feigning sleep, had his eyes upon me, and was watching for the moment when I should discover my loss. Of course I did cot discover it; but when I had drawn on my boots and was ready to go, I became sud denly aware that the atmosphere of the room was insufferably close, and began to puff and blow, and to ejaculate interjec tional complaints of the want of air. At the next moment I ran to the window, to throw it wide with one hand, and leaning forward as if to catch the morninc: breeze, awkwardly swept off the flower-pot down into-the little court seventy feet. below. In an instant the seeming sleeper was standing in his shirt in the middle in the floor, and demanding with an angry oath what I had done. "Nothing," said 1, "beyond breaking a flower-pot the plant was withered ani good for nothing. Excuse my awkward ness ; I will indemnify the landlady. Good morning." My nonchalance deceived the scoun drel, and he sood aside to let me pass, looking rather black, however, as I walked out. There seemed to bo no one astir in the hou?e save the garcon, who was roast ing coffee at the open front door, and I was only made aware of hi3 preseme by the agreeable fumes which assailed my nos trils as I sped like a grayhound down the Etairs. In half a minute I was in the lit tle back court, where lay the smashed re mains of the pot and the withered flower. Feeling morally certain that the shock head and scowling visage of the thief were protruding from the window above, I drew the canvas bag from the crumbled mold and held it up to his gaze. There he was, sure enough, growling and grinding his teeth with rage and mortification. "Why don't you cry 'Stop thief?'" I bawled out to him. "Did you think to 1 - . . tiortles3 for several eateb the Englishman asleep?. Au're- voir, coquin !' I awaited no reply, bu making for the street, jumped iuto tne first fiacre that came in view, and in half an hour had alighted at my own lodging. As I was mounting to my-apartment, I met on the stairs my friend and chum Ollendof, who was sallying forth to meet his pupils. "lia'.iol said he, "you've been out all nurnt f m "Yes 4 said I, "and I've had an advea- "Good ! let me hear all about it." I told him how I had passed the night, and all that had happened. "Capital!" he cried; "and have you examined the thief 's bag ?" "No, I have not done that yet ; but cf coni-se it contains nothing but what is my own." "Do not 03 too sure of that. Come, we will examine it together." ? lit; followed me into my room, and I lugged forth the bag. To my astonish ment, there was in it, in addition to the money rifled from my pocket, a gold Na poleon, a five-franc piece, and a pair of enormously large circular ear-rings of al lojed gold, such as 'one often sees in the ears of the provincial emigrants who crowd the wharves, the markets and warehouses of Paris. ' .: - "There !" said my friend, 'you see the rascal had more strings to his bow . than you gave him creiit for. If you had made an uproar and a charge of theft, he could nave retorted the charge upon you would have shown his own empty pockets, and mijrllt Lave Stood as Jroal a rhanrtA n? criminating you. However, you may for give him, since he has paid you for the trouble of defeating his purpose; and really, I think he has treated you hand somely." I'Against his will. But, seriously, what 6uc.ii t I to do ? Had I not better put the affair into the hands of the police." "Do you know the rule in such cases here ? If not, I must tell you that if you put the thief's money into the bands" -of the police, you will also be compelled to hand over the entire contents of the bag; and how much cf it you will get back, and when you' will get it, you must be cleverer than I am if you can guess." I finally decided not to trouble the po lice with the business ; but as I could not have made use of the scoundrel's money, any more than I could have worn the hue ear-rings, I wrapped both up ia paper to gether and placed them ia my pocket book, until time and circumstance should present some fit mode cf disposing of dA . O iem. It was about a year after the above ad venture, and when the details of it had almost faded from my memory, that I was invited by a friend from Eg land to accom pany him on a visit to one of the Parisian prisons if I recollect aright, it s-as the New Dicetre, which, after a deal of solici tation and trouble, he had obtained per mission to inspect. While we were wan dering through the workshops, ia which the prisoners labor together in silence for so many hours a day, as my friend was committing his notes to paper, I amused myself by scanning the demoralized phys iognomies around me, little suspecting that I was destined to find an acquaintance among tncm. Close to my elbow there stood a man at a bench, bendir,? over his work, which was that of carvinar sabots from unshapely blocks of willow wood. I was admiring the rapidity and baldness of his execution, when he suddenly lifted his head and exposed to view , the face of the thief of the Rue de l'Oleon. I knew him at once, and saw that the recog nition was mutual, for he lowered his head instantly, and plainly sought to elude my gaze. I could not, of course, speak to him then, without contravening the rules of the prison ; but on imparting my wish to do so to the guide who had us in charge, he promised to give me the opportunity- I sought when we had finished our survey. He was as good as his word, and before leaving the prison I was cndacted t the delinquent iu his own cell, whither he had been remanded that I might see him, The poor wretch, who, it was clear, imag ined that"! was going to LjJge a fre?h charge against him, seemed struck with a mortal pallor as I entered. "Do not be alarmed," I said ; "I have no complaint to make against you; but I have been wishing to meet you, and to make a restoration of property which may perhaps ba of use tc you." i unfolied my pocket-bojk and took out the little packet containing the Napoleon, the five franc piece and the ear-rings. "These, 1 think, belong to you is it not so ?" He bowed assent, but did not speak. "Take them," I said, "and take better care of them than you did when you had them last." He glanced at the attendant, as if to intimate that the man's presence preven ted his saying more, and merely replied, with impressive earnestness, "M'sieu, you are a man of honor I" I wished that I could return the com pliment. r2? The Pension Bureau desires it to be known by applicants for pensions, that it is unnecessary for them to go to the expense of obtaining certificates of the loss of limbs, as the Bureau has that in formation already. ,T llv.oo n auvasci:. KIJMBER J. Tiie 1'yrauiid-. ..I cc nearer we approached, the Great Egyptian Pyramid,' the more it rose upon us as a ievelatiuti of majesty and power. When it wa? praised .to, -me to asex-trd it, I agreed, as a. matter of course; and wheu one of Our party kindly hinfej at the dif ficulty, 1 looked up to the" artificial molo hiL.and, swaggering about my exploits onilighlund aud Swiss Mountains, I ex panded my chest, drew myself upright, and pitied the skepticism: of my fellow--traveler. The offer of the Arabs t help me up I rejected vith a smile of quiet as surance and eontempt. Walking alon" the base of the structure, which seemed interminable, we got upon the first lcde and began the ascent. Half adozen bare armed, lightly clad, dark complexioned, white teethed children of the desert sur round me measuring me with their eve? and jabbering - irreverently in Arabic about my size, I believe ; but they ended by volunteering their - assistance. Their speech was interlarded with thc one word which constantly occurs and forms an important portion of the language of mod ern. Egypt and Canaan backsheesh. I begged them court enusly toleave me ; and, with an elasticity remarkable to no ona but myself, I mounted the first step. Having done so, I felt entitled to pau?3 and breathe ; for this step seemed to be a five foot wall of limestone. To my amaze ment I found another before me, and an other, each of which I climbed with the assistance, I confess, of. the Arabs two before and three behind but with a con stantly diminisir.ng sense of strength, and au " increasing anxiety to know when I should reach those short, easy steps which I had been gazing at from below. I was told that the steps to the summit were all like these I had passed,, but I was also told not to be discouraged thereby, as, by hard work, I should be a good way up in half an hour; and once up I could rest, : eo as to be fit for the descent, which, -after all, was the real difficulty! I gazed up to a series of about 2o0 stone walls, which, after reaching to an elevation of 120 feet higher than the ball of St. Paul's, were lost at last in the blue sky, and 1 looked down half dizzy to the base beneath me. The next wall above me was somewhere about my chest or chin ! So, meditating upon the vanity cf human wishes, upon the loss to my parish (so ar gued the flesh) by a vacancy occurring, upon the inherent excellence of humility, the folly of pride aud siuful ambition,"! then in a subdued yet firm tone declared that no arguments with which I was then acquainted would induce me to go a yard higher. ' I pleaded principle, but strength ened my convictions by pointing to the burning sua aai the absence of a lad der. DiJding, therefore, farewell to my companions, who went ap those giant stairs, begged my clamorous guiJes, who clung around, to leave me until they re turned. The obvious terror of the A rabs was that they would lose their p?y ; but I mustered breath enough to say, in the blandest manner, - "Unloved friends and fellow laborers! sons of the desert ! fol lowers of the filse prophet.! leave me; go round the corner ; I wish to meditate upDn the past; depart!" And then I emphatically aided, "Backsheesh, back sheesh, backsheesh ! Yes.!'' They seem ed to understand the latter, part of my address, held up their fingers, and respon ded, "Backsheesh? yes!" I bowed, "Good I" They replied, "We are satis fied!" and vanished. And so they left me, some twenty steps up the pyramid, and lookiug towards Ethiopia and the sources of the Nile. I was thankful for the repose. One had time to take ia the scene in quiet, and to get a whiff of the inexhaustible past in that wondrous spot. The Arabs away, everything was calm as the grave, except for the howls of a wan dering jackal that, like a speck, was trot ting away ever the sanJ beneath me. Good Words. m . The TowEa of Babcl. This won derlul tower, on which late accounts an nounce that a cross wa3 recently placed by a missionary, consists now of only two of the eight stories originally erected. The remains arc, however, visible from a very great distance. Each side cf the quad rangular base measures two hundred yards in length. The bricks of which it is corn rosed are of the pure white c'ay, with a very slight brownish tint, which, in the sun, assumes a wonderfully rich hue. The bricks; before beiog baked, were covered with characters traced with the hand iu a clear and reguhr style. The bitumen which served for ccmetrt was derived from a fountain which etill exists near the tower, and which Sows with such abun dance that it sooa forms a stream, and would invade the neighboring river- did ! Dot the natives, from time to time, set fire" to the stream of bitumen, and then wait quietly until tho flames die out for want of aliment. E3.lt is recorded that a soap pelller was recently caught at sea during a vio lent storm, when be saved his life by ta king a cae of his toap aud washing i himse!f ashore !. i CoT" Msjor-Gencr.il noker was mar ried a few days, since, in Cincinnati, to I Miss Oiivia Groesback, of that city. Lo, J the conquering hero ia conquered ! 1 !