Carlisle herald. (Carlisle, Pa.) 1845-1881, August 15, 1855, Image 2

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For Tho Harald.
hi a lonesome dell in a narrow glen, '
Ina recess hid from the haunts of men,
Where the night owl moans on the blasted tree,
While the earth cricket chirps' its melody—
There, bitterly cursed, are bubbles that swell,
Year after year from a betttmless well,
While the vonomed breath that the night-shade flings,
With a rainfall taints the haunted springs.
In earlier years—do traditions tell—
A hearthstone rose by the haunted well,
Arid a darh-eyed maiden with fintritrn hair,
Shed light o'er the bowers that flourished there.
She stalled upon all she passed along,
And happinees wreathed round the household throng
While at eventide she w ould sit and sing,
And moisten her curls at the bubbling spring.
A fair haired youth on /I sunny morn.
The maiden saw, and a pure love 'woe born,
Which grew and mutuied as the hours rolled on,
Till he wooed her one even—the maid was won—
They breathed their rows in the shadows that fell,
Prom the boughs that waved o'er the bubbling well,
The stars twinkled brightly, partners in bliss,
And the pale loom' beams sealed the cows with a kiss
O'er h a ppiness this a few moons had flown,
When the light of dark eyes on the mild shorte—
ner heart once true. With the llgitt awhile strove—
Then ruthlesgly 1 rube the will ehain of love,
Spurned him to wil.lll the had plighted her heart,
Arid lured by the dark eyes, bade him depart.
Heart broten he plunged in the depths of the \roll—
And the team, for his death were the bubbler: that fell
The dark eyes glitttitrea at‘lillettut their light
Was false tls the ill tt' the Wh.p," of the night
Another tln•} tt.onght in the ttirele. afar, .
.red the desk eked mailer, ailed 111 despair.
lliin she forst, to the steeling had done,
The love the had st light was false as her own.
Unr morn she wa t. and the murmuring well
The tale of her sail gale only could tell.
The tree t het n'ershailowed we , : blasted and Ker
'I he hearth,tDne deemed, and the lx,wers wore dren
While the hubbies mere teardrop; that Fwelled frem
thy drip.
n'er the form of the maid and her lover asleep—
lier gpirit In 'bite 100 W 01100 a year sings,
Mournful her death o'er the haunted springs,
And the SUMMIT breeze sighs, and . winter winds tel!
Of the fate of the 111110! hearted ,muld of the well.
Tri'mtir , , July 29. T. 0. C.
It is well known that Dr. Johnson, with ali
bis powerful intellect, such was his singular
dread of dissolution, that ho could scarcely be
persuaded to execute his will, least the act
should hasten his end. When a friend called ,
upon him ho 'exclaimed in a melancholy tone' ; ';
'Jam mo7fittrus.' The 'dread monster,' on the'
last day of his existence, came to his mental
,envisaged with all the horrors
that hod so flirted him through life. llazlitt
on his death: bed presented a melancholy spec
tacle. Ilia
, highly cultivated powers were
taxed to theirlinoSt.
.Yet tickle fortune was
so chary of her favors that ho became the
victim of calumny, poverty and death. On
his death-bed ho was .so distressed with the
sense of his pecuniary obligations, that lie
dictated a letter to Jeffrey, of Edinburg, soli
citing a grant of money. The' reply came
with fifty pounds, the day after his decease.
Byron was 'of excessive nervous irritability;
he died, according to Dr. Madden, muttering
inaudibly some verses about his sister and.
Child, but so inarticulately as not - to have been
understood. Cowper, the most surprising in
stance of nervous melancholy throughout the
greater period of his life time, happily was
permitted to resign his spirit cheered by the
b'essed assurance of Christian hope—his end
was as calm as a sleep. Mary, Scotland's ill
fated Queen, met death under the most appal
ling circumstances, with a degree of firmness
and resolution, strikingly opposed to what
might have been looked for from so gentle a
creature, Oppressed with such heavy misfor
tunes—deserted by every professed friend,
with only her faithful little dog to share her
Clarendon's pen dropped from his bend,
when seized witLa palsy, which put au end to
his existence.
The .tlying exclamation of the Bishop Por
tons, is indicative of a mind in happy harmony
with nature and nature's God. Sitting in his
library, at Fulham, on a balmy eve of May,
tSe iiciuntenance of the good prelate beamed
Witt► a transient glow, and in the graetful
gladness of his heart, as his delightful eye
'caught a glimpse of the setting sun, 'O, that
glorious sun!' 'Soon after,' adds his biogra
pher, 'he fell asleep, and a brighter sun broke
upon him,'
Napoleon's - last words wore 'tete d'armee,' an
unmistakeable evidence how his thoughts were
occupied on the eve of his departute from his
warlike career. What words could be suppos
ed more in accordance with-the tenor of his
history? Ile died in his, military garb, which
he had ordered to be put on'a short time pre.
'tousle his dissolution. '
,Cardinal Beaufort, accused of having mur
dered the Duke of Gloucestei, the faithful re,
membrane° of which seemed to have filled his
mind with indescribable terrors, for it is ptated
his end was ono' of the most terrible /over
witnessed. His last words were—'And , must
I then die?—willJtot allimy riche; Save me?—
I could purchase a kingdom, if that would
save my life! What! is there no way of bri
bing death?' Shakspeare's description of the
Cardinal's death is awfully', yet very scrupu
lously true.
The death bed of the Countess of Notting
ham was one of remorse, 4 Trom her faithless
conduct to the tie - fortunate Earl of Essex.—
'Tis said Elizabeth shook her on her dying
couch, with 'God may forgive you, but I never
will.' This same queen; in her turn, endured
the pangs unappeased conscience in her
lag moMents; tor she exclaimed, 'All my pos
sessions for a moment of time ' On the other
h'and, how many have met death as a holy
thing, rejoicing in the ensting'off the bondage
of earth; a calm and peace have pervaded
their actions, and a smile has heightened their
angelic looks, as they fled from time to eterni
ty. Anne Boleyn was perfectly resigned to
her fate; her thoughts were on another world.
She observed, clasping her neck, 'lt is but
small—very small.' The deaths of that hap
less yet beautiful pair, Lord Dudly and Lady
Jane Grey, were marked by a pious'and settled
composure: of the latter 'tis truthfully said—
"Yet hero she kneels In her unfolding years,
All yet unreaehed the height of wnomanhooik
Kneels Mee to face with death, end feels no fears,
Though the keen e‘e be ! Lem to drink liar blood,
Calm looks she. :15 11111 seaman on the flood,
tl inch, though It loudly rage and - wildly (balm
Shall Lear him bravely to his distant 11014 e."
D'Auldgne, in his History of the Reforma
tion, thus describes the last hours of Cardinal
Wolsey. 'On Monday morning, early, tor
mented, by clootny forebodings, Wolsey asked
what was the time of day. 'Past eight o'clock,'
replied Cavendish. 'That cannot be,' said the
('ordinal; 'eight o'clock!—No! for by eight
o'clock, you shall lose your master.' At six
o'clock, on Tuesday, Kingston having come to
inquire of his health, Wolsey said to him, 'I
shall not live long.' 'Be of good cheer,' re
joined the Governor of the Tower. 'Alas,
Master Kingston' exclaimed the Cardinal, 'if I
had served God as faithfully as I had served
the King, he would not have given me over in
my gray hairs!'—and then he added, with
downcast head, 'rids is my just rewnrP—
What a judgment upon hiS own life! 'On the
very threshold of eternity, for he had but a
few minutes more to live, the cardinal sum
moned up all his hatred against the Reforma
tion, and made a last effort. The persecution
was too slow to please him. ' 'Master Kings
ton,' he said, attend to my lest request;' tell
the King that I conjure him, in God's name,
to destroy the now pernicious sect of Luther
ans;' and then, with astonishing presence of
mind in this his last,he lr , Wolsey described
the misfortunes which the Hussites had, in his
opinion, brought' upon Bohemia; and then
coming to Englnn , l, ho recalled the times of
Wickliffe, and Sir John Oldcastle. die grew
animated; his dying eyes yet shot forth fiery
-glances! He trembled, lest Henry VIII , un
faithful to the Pope, should hold out his hands
to the Reformers. 'Master Kingston,' said he,
in conlgion, 'The King should know that if
he, tolerates heresy, God will take away his
power, and we shall then have mischief upon
mischief barrenness, scarcity and disorder,
to the utter destruction of this realm.'
'Wolsey was exhausted with the effort.—
After a momentary silence, he resumed, with
a dying voice, 'Master Kingston, farewell!—
Iffy time draweth on fast. Forget not what I
have said and charged you withal; for when I
am dead, ye shall peradventure, understand
my words better,' It was with difficulty he
uttered these words; his tongue began to fal
ter, his eyes became fixed—his sight failed
him. Ile breathed his last at the same minute
the clock struck eight; and the attendants,
standing round his bed, looked at each other
in affright. It was the 20th• of November,
1530. Sir Isaac Newton died in the act of
winding up of his watch—a singular emblem
of winding up of his own career. Haller,
feeling his pulse, exclaimed, •the artery ceases
to beat,' and instantly expired. The following
stanzas, penned on the bed of sickness, merit
notice, from their richness and soft harmony.
The author's name is Wood, who resided in
Kent, England, comparatively unknown to
fame, yet his muse was evidently endowed
with a keen relish for Nature's beauties, for
he seems to riot in her magnificent charms.—
Feelingly ho wrote, on his dying couch, the
' "Now boar mo hence away,
I like not thhi close room, so small and dim;
Around thOcurtained bed aro shadows grim;
Which Jauntily play,
Turning my mind from prayer,
I know they toll me of my coming fate,
lint ohi not hero—l would the change await
In the cool air."
Haydn's faculties, like those of many other
men celebrated for their genius, wore impair
ed before his frame. His latter years were
those of a drooping and demented old man.—
He was sometimes visited by strangers; but
they found him in a simple chamber, sitting,
before a desk, with the melancholy look of ono
who felt that all his early powers were gone.
When ho took notice of his visitors, ho smiled,
and tears stole dowp his cheeks; but ho sone
timoNeemed to feel sudden bursts of memory,
and talked strikingly of bis 2 earthly career.
Whew the war broke out between Austria
uTll4lzh otit.ll-.N).1
and France, in 1809, the intelligence roused
Haydn, and exhausted the shattered remnant .
of his remaining strength. Ile 'wag continual
ly inquiring for news; ho went every, moment
to his piano, and sang, with the slender voice
left to him—,
"God preserve tho Emperor!"
The. French armies advanced with gigantic
strides. T At length, having reached Schen•
brim, half a league's datum) from Ilaydn's
little garden, they fired, the next morning,
fifteen hundred cannon shot, within two hun
dred yards of his house, upon Vienna, the
town which he so much loved. The old man's
imagination represented it as given up to fire
and sword. Four bombs fell close to his
house. His two servants ran to,him full of
terror. The old man, rousing himself, got up
from his easy chair, and with a dignified air,
demanded, .Why this terror? Know that no
disaster can come where Haydn is.' A con
vulsive shivering prevented him from prbeeed
ing, and lie was carried to his bed. His
strength diminished sensibly. Nevertheless,
having caused himself to be carried to his
piano, he'-sung thrice, as ho was able—'God
preserve; the Emperor!' It was the song of
the swan. While at the piano, he fell into a
kind of stupor, and expired.
Haydn was very religious during the whole
of his life, At the commencement of all his
scores, lie inscribed, 'ln nomine Dominie, or
Soli deb gloria; and at the conclusion of all of
all of them is written, Llus Deo. - When, in
composing, he felt his imagination decline, or
was stopped by some difficulty which then ap
peared insurmountable, he rose from the piano
forte and began to run over his rosary, and he
never found this method fail. 'When,' so id
he, 'I was employed upon 'The ,Creation,'
felt myself so penetrated with religious feel
ing, that before I sat down to the instrument,
I prayed to God with earnestness, that He
would enable. me to praise Him worthily.—
This master-piece was the fruit of nine years'
We give another anecdote of his brother
composer, Mozart; he seems, however, to have
suffered, like Johnson, from prevailing fears of
death. There is something strikingly beauti
ful and touching in then circumstance of his
death. 'His sweetest song was the last he
sung'—the 'Requiem.' lle had been employed
upon this exquisite piece for several weeks—
his soul filled with inspirations of the richest
melody and already claiming kindred with im
mortality. After giving it its last touch, and
breathing into it that undying spirit of song
which was to consecrate it through all time, as
his 'cygnean strain,' he fell into a gentle and
quiet slumber. At length the light footsteps
of his daughter Emilie awoke him. 'Come
hither,' says he, 'my Emilie—my - task is done
—the Requiem--my Requiem is finished.'—
'Say not so, dear father,' said the gentle girl,
interrupting him, us tears stood in her eyes,
you must be better—for even now your cheek
has a glow upon it. I am sure we will nurse
you well again—let me bring you something
refreshing.' 'Do not deceive yourself, my love,'
said the dying father; 'this wasted frame can
never be restored by human aid. From
Heaven's mercy alone do I look for aid, in this
my dying hour. You spoke of refreshment,
my Emilie—take these, my last notes—sit
down by my piano here—sing them with the
hymn of thy sainted mother—lot me once
more hear those tones which have been so long
my solacement and delight.' Emily obeyed;
and with a voice enriched with tenderest emo
tion, sung the following stanzas:
"Spirit! thy labor is o'er!
Thy term of probation is run,
Thy steps are now bound for the untrodden shore,
And the race of Inunortals begun.
Spirit! look not on the strife
Or tho ploasuros of earth with regret—
Pause not on the threshold of limitless life,
To mourn for-tho day that is set,
Spirit! no fetters can bind,
No wicked have power to molest;
There the weary, like thee—the wretched, shall find
A haven—a niauslon of rest.
Spirit! how bright is tho rood
For which thou art now on tho wing!
Thy homo4t will ho the Saviour and Clod,
Their loud hallelujahs to sings."
As she concluded, she dwelt for a moment
upon the low, melancholy notes of the piece,
snd then, turning from the instrument, loolied
in silence for the approving smile of her father
It was the still, passionless smile which the
rapt and joyous had left with the seal of death
upon those features.
xtel.A celebrated commedian arranged with
his green grocer, one Berry, to pay him quar
terly ; but the green grocer sent in his ac
count long before the quarter was due. The
commedian in' great wrath called upon the
green grocer, and laboring under the impress
ion that his credit was doubted, said
say, hero's a pretty mul, Berry ; you've sent
in your bill, Berry, before it was'due, Berry;
your father the older, Berry, would not have
been such a goose, Berry. But you need not
look blackpßerry—for I don't care a straw.
Berry, and shan't pay until Christmas, Berry.
Da.There are trees in Wisoonsin that take
two men and a boy to look at the top of them.
One looks till ho gets tired, and dnother oom
maims 'where he loft off.
6V &grin Ear.
.As a general thing, the most interesting
ldttes \ regarding the siege of Sebastopol and
the fighting in the Crimea, aro those written
by officers and soldiers to their friends at
home, The writers generally describe scenes
in which they bore a persoflal part. The fol
lowing letter from Lieutenant Colonel Barton,
to his brother in London, has been published
by the latter. It refers to the doings of his
regiment iu the engagement before Sebastopol
on the lSth of June :
"Before Sebastopol, June 21
"Iliad but time for one glance at •the po
sition, but that was quite sufficient to show
that it was a regular Balaklava chiirge which
was expected of us. However, there' was no•
thing for it but to obey ; so, having whispered
my view of affairs to E., and told him the
part I wished to play, we sprang over the
ridge and Went at it. How I blessed my stars
at having a good pair of legs to take me like
the wind over the vines that entangled the
path between me and a house on which I had
fixed as my head quarters. Grape, canister
and round shot swept around me like hail ;
and, fur encouragement, just as I reached the
cover of the building, surprised to flied myself
with a whole skin, ono of the latter crashed
through the building as thagh it had been
paper. E. had taken a line to my right, and
I was gratified to see that be had also reached
the cover of the walls in safety ; but determin
ed to join me. I almost immediately saw him
spring from his lair, and with uplifted sword
call upon his men to advance.
"Again the battery opened, and it was
with the most intense interest that I watched
his charge down the hill. The vine holes—
for they are partially sunk—made the footing
very uncertain ; he suddenly turned an awful
summersault, and I thought all was over with
him, as with many others—but no, again Le
was on his legs—'Forward men'—again reach
ed the Russian battery, and a few more strides
placed him by my side. And did not we.
then, devotedly wish we were back again ?
However, there was nothing for it, but to
back close, dodge a shot as best i r) could,
and aggravate the enemy us little as possible.
And there we spent fourteen dreary hours, the
enemy at ono moment bringing, down our
house with round shot, burying the wretched'
wounded beneath the ruins; then throwing
shells among us, which owing to the softness of
the - ground'fortunately penetrated deep, and
i 4 bursting, only formed craters large enough
for one's grave ; and if a leg was injudicious
ly allowed to protrude besond a certain limit,
it instantly furnished is target for a dozen
rifle balls. Under these most trying circum
stances, it was most gratifying to find that
my young soldiers, many of them only having
landed the day before, behaved most admira
ly. Indeed, to a family man, who has got a
sneaking kindness for his wife and bairns, it
is amusing'to see how recklessly some of them
will expose life. When I wanted to semi a
report to the General, I had no difficulty in
finding qolunteers to take it. The knowledge
that they would get a drink of water was
sufficient inducement, though certain to have
some fifty balls fired at them during their
transit both ways.
, 4 Many escaped through this ordeal almost
miraculously, but ono of my messengers came
to grief, lie was laden with commissions for
and reached the general in safety ; at length
he reappeared, loaded with the precious
freight, and broke cover cheered on_ by the
thirsty crowd. As usual he was twigged in a
moment, and a volley of balls cut up the . dust
around him, and when within fifty yards or
so of the gaol the poor fellow was winged and
dropped heavily. For a time he was so still
that we feared 1m had got his quietus but
shortly the arms began to move, and ho soon
appeared, dragging his wounded leg—two
tins of the precious water, and my note be
tween his teeth. I found the poor fellow's
wound was slight, the ball having only grazed
his knee joint, and you may imagine my sor
row when part of the wall afterwards fell on
him, and hurt him ri good deal. You will
hardly credit that numbers begged of me im
mediately afterwards to be allowed to go and
bring in the water which ho loft on tile
ground when he began to travel on all fours.
A positive veto alone stopped them, for my
homily to the text, that water is not worth
blood, was not much thought of. This is a
long tale, but fourteen hours might furnish
many such anecdotes. T 'conclude my story:
At nightfall, when the ri emen fired wide, wo
gradually got our wretched wounded to the
rear. Scorched aad parehedby a burning
sun, my mervilled ,off, .at 10, P. Itf. Choked
with the dust of ages which had risen from
the ruins, and bespattered with, blood and
brains, it was with a sense of thankfulness
that'l again reaChed my hut.°
key-Correction does much, but encourage.
meat does more ; encouragement alter cen•
Burp is as the sun after a shower.
The present season is unusually productive
of all kinds of fruit, and vegetables. The
markets are now or soon will be overburdened,
and a superabundance of fruit will be found
in almost every garden. Every housekeeper
should be provided with. suitable number of
fruit cans, and should put up a supply for the
coming winter; and, if besides, a few dozen
Cane wto preserved against a barren season,
they 91 go far to relieve the disappoint
ments arising from our fickle climate. The
method of preserving fruits in air tight vessels
is comparatively new, and 'since its introduc;
tion it has been, confined to a few individuals.
In the method of preserving, there is nothing
mysterious. The fruit only requires to be
sufficiently sealed to expel all the air contained
iu the cells, and to bo put, while hot, into the
cans, which should ho filled as full as possible
without causing .the syrup to interfere with
the sealing or soldering, The safest method
of putting up such fruits as berries, peaches,
Sec., 'is to place the cane in a vat or other
vessel of boiling water; then scald or steam
the fruit, fill the cans, and seal up immediately,
while hot. To preserve the color of bard
peaches, when it is desired to have them
whole, they should be thrown, when pealed,
into cold water, until they are ready for scald-
Mg. If soft peaches are preferred, they may
be cut up as if intended to be eaten with
cream, and need not be put into the water.—
W hen ready, they should be treated as de
scribed above. For some uses, it is better to
Mid as much sugar to the fruit us will be re
quired to prepare it for the table, first reduc
ing it to a syrup, by boiling. .lt should be
skimmed. TO preserve tomatoes, they ehould
be more thoroughly boiled, in order to expel
the excess of water. Corn, beans, and other
garden vegetables may be preserved in the
same manner, only they require to be more
I thoroughly cooked than fruits
Take the round yellow variety as soon as
ripe, scald and peel; then to seven pounds
of tomatoes' add seven pounds of white
sugar, and let them stand over nigth. Take
the tomatoes out of the sugar and boil the
syrup, removing the Begin. Put in the toma
toes, and boil gently fiftsen or twenty minutes;
remove tho,lruit again and . poil until the syrup
thickens. On, cooling put the fruit into jars
and pour the syrup' over it, and add a few
slices of lemon to each jar, and you will ha'o
something to please the -taste of the most fas
Dri) fions.
am now re,eiving from Now York. and Philadelphia
an immense stock of now,„desirahle and Cheap timats,to
which I would call the attention of all my old frirnds
and customers, no ?tell as Um public generally. 'laving
purchased most of my goods from the largest importing
houses in New York, 1 am edabled to give better bar
gains than can be had at any other house in thecounty.
Our assortment of
is large, complete and beautiful. Another lot of those
elegant and cheap BLACK MRS, embroidered hand•
kerchiefs, sleeves, collars, ruffles, edgings, and Insert
hip, a stock that fur extent and cheapness . defles all
competition. Muslins, ginghams, calicoes, le Ines, de
Mines, tickings, checks, a tremendous assortment- ,
Gloves and Hosiery cheaper than over. Cloths, easel
uterus, conic, cuttonades, &c. Ac. a full assortment nod
very low In price.
An entire new stock of three ply, ingrain, cotton and
venitian carpeting, bought very cheap and will be sold __-
very low. Also white tul colored :Ratings.
ROOTS AND 511055.
A large supply of ladies and gentlemen's boots, shoes
and gaiters. Intending to give up the Grocery depart
ment, I will dispose of what I . have on hand in that
line, at low prices. Also sumo well made Clothing on
hand, which I will sell for less than cost as I want to
close it out: 'Come one and all to the Old Stand on East
Main street, and select your Goods from the largest and,
cheapest stock ever brought to Carib,le,
dersigned is now opening in the store twin of 'l5 Minn
Leonard, on the corner of Ilanover uud Louther streets,
in the Borough of Carlisle, a large and general assort
ing almost every kind and variety of goods minuted to
this market; together with an assortment of GROCE
RIES. Ills stock having been 13 early all purchased within
the last two weeks, buyers will have the advantage at
selecting from a FRESH STOCE,"as It ell ns of the late
decline in the price of tunny articles. lie will be , happy
to exhibit his goods to all who may favor him with a
call, and pledges himself to sell every article as low or
lower thin they can be purchased elsewhere.
Carlisle, Noy. 11, 18 A. , 1:011EILT DICK.
- MEW SPRING G ODS.—T • o sub
_Li scriber le now opening a large and general assort
ment of LADIESDRESS GOODS, concisting of Black and
Colored Silks, Cludli liareges, Nous de Mines, French
and English,Lawns, '
also a genoral variety of goods for
boys wear, a full assortment of Ladies and Childrens
Ilosiery, Gloves liandkarehielS, also English and other
STRAW BONNETS, Bonnet Ribbons, Bonnet Lawns,
with the usual variety of Spring Goods at moderate prl
ADRY Gonns '
ABLE.—The undorsignedhar•
ing enlarged and fitted up the Store-room formerly cc
copied as the Post Office, immediately opposite limonite
of the American Volunteer, in South itanover Street,
has opened a large and general assortment of .
comprising a groat variety of fancy and staple Froncp,
British and domestic gt oda, a general assortment of
Ladies' Leghorn, Straw, Neapolitan and Gimp Bonnets,
Bloomers of various hinds and quality, Gentlemen,
Youth and Children's Panama, Leghorn and ,Straw
hats, white and colored Carpet Chato, Broteries he•, be•
all of which will ho sold at the lowest prices.
ittay 16,'66 ROBERT) DICK•
Tho subscriber Is just receiving another supply of
ring and Bummer Bonnets consisting of English Straw
chip: Braid,satin Straws, Ploopolitain, and lien Braid.
also a nen' supply of very choice Colored nnalNiskito
Bonnet Ribbons varying In price from to 50 cents
per yard.
Also II large assortment of Ebildrens and Misses Straw
and Braid flats. UEO. W. llEEDijilt.
Nay 10.'55
/I 3