Carlisle herald. (Carlisle, Pa.) 1845-1881, March 25, 1865, Image 1
TER I M'S'OF ADVERTISING . Ons,Square ono Insertion, $1 00 rpr oicis subsequent insertion, 50 For'lllet cat:alio Advertisements, 25 00 Legal Notices 4 CO Scifttiwional Cards without papor, 7 00 teary Notices art.! Communica lonS vol . tins to matte. sof prl- la vate Interests alone, 10 cents per .. line. JOB PRINTING.—Our Job Printing Ofll . Ce is the nigest and most. complete establishment in the [loon y. Four good Presses, and a general varloty of material sultedfor pinioned Fancy work of every krad, enables no to do Job Printing at the shortest notice, and on the most reasonable terms. Persona in want of Bills, Blanks, or anything in the Jobbing liar , , will end it to their Interco tto give us a call. linfoviauttion. U. S. GOVERNMENT President—imam: ham LtateoLM, VICO President—HANNlßAL Ilamirt, Bocretary of State—Wm. 11. SEWARD, Secretary of Interior—J:lo. P. Ilartan, Enerstary of Troanury—Wm. P. PeaSENDEST, Secretary of War—EDWIN M. STANTON, eretrary.of Navy—GIDEON WELLES, Post Master General—Wm. DENNISON. itorney fionerai—James S. SEESD. • ChlefJustice of tho United Staten--SeLmoa P. CEASE. STATE GOVERNMENT. tiovarnor —ANDREW 0. Crtrrra. geera'ary of State--Em SLIFER, , turroyor General- 3 Matti e. IL\ RD., Ir.toCol7 001101 . 11-113 A AC SLENF rat, Attorney General—Wm. M. MaitEDITTI. Adjutant General—A L. ROWISLI., gtato Treasurer—fluter D. SlOnan. ChtofJu.,tie of the Supreme Court-000. W.WOoD PrAliD• COUNTY OFFICERS. p r omannt Judge—Non. James 11. anthem. MlSOCinte Judges—llon. Michael Conklin, Ilon. El ugh Stuart. District Attornoy—J. W. P. Cilltolen. P r othonotary—Samuel Shlreman. Clerk and Recorder—Ephraim Common, Register—Geo W. North. High Shariff—John Jacobs. County Treasurer—llenry S. littler. Coroner—David Smith. County Commlskloners—hoary Kftros, Men ni Mitchell McClellan, Supertnlondent of Poor Tlnuke—llenry Snyder. Physician to ,loll—Dr. W. W. Dale. Physician to Poor House—Dr. W. W. Dale. BOROUGH OFFICERS Ciller Burgess— Andrew B. 7.leiler. Assistant Burgess—itobert Allison. Town Council—East Ward—J. D. lihlnchcart, Engine P. Maier, .1. W. D. °Melon, George Wetzel, West Wattl—Goo. L Murray, 1 hos. Poston, A. Cath tart, duo. B. Parker, .1 no. D. Gorges, President, of Council, A. Cathcart, Clerk, Jos. W. Ogility, Borough .Treasurer—Jacob ltheem. High Constable Sam uei Sipe. Ward Constable, Andrew Martin. Atoessor- ..lehn Gutehall. Asslstaot Assessors, no. Lien, Geo. S. Becton). Auditor—Hobert D. Cameron. Tax. Caller:tor—Alfred Ithineheart. Ward Collec tors—East Ward, Chas. A. Smith. West Ward, Theo. Corntn4n, Street Commissioner, Worley B. Matthews, Justices of the Peace—A. L. Sponsler, David Smith, Abrm. ()AWL Michael Holcomb. Lamp Lighters—Chas. B. Meek, James Spangler. CHURCHES Firat Presbyterian Church, Northwest angle of Cen ire Square. Rev. Con way P. Wing l'astor.—Servirns every Sunday Morning at 11 o'clock, A. 111., and 7 o'clock I.'. M. Second Prenhyterinn Church, corner of South [lan over and Pomfret streets. Rev. John C Ruins. Pastor Perukes commence at 11 o'clock, A. M., and 7 o'clock P. M. St. John's Church. (Prot. Episcopal) northeast angle of Centro Square. Rev. J C Clore, Rector. Services at 11 o'clock A. 'M., and 1 o'clock. V M. English Lutheran Church, Bedford, between Main and iinother strootA. Kov. Ja •oh Fry, Pastor. Ser '(ces at 11 o'clock A. M., and clock 1'.31. U.orman Reformed Church. houther., I ' lll,, on Han over and Pitt streets. Rev. Samuel Philips. Pastor. Servi.:•o at 11 o'clock A. M., and n 1' M. Mothof Ist Pl. Church (lirxt charge) corner of 31nin and Vitt Str:ets. Rev. fhotnos 11. :Alt:clock, Ihtstt,r. Sorvlecg It 11 o'clock A. 31. and 7 n'olock l', M. Mothoclizt 111. Church (ankond charge.) Rev. S. L. Bowman. Pastor. eervicesin Emery 31 E. Church at 1 o'clock A. M. and 314 P. 31. Church of t7rlli Chtlilol. South Weq, car. of Neat Sir. and Chapel Alley. Rev It. F. Beck, Past.. Services Nat 11 a, m., and ^IFt p.m. l'atrkk's Catnolie Church, Pomfret near I•:ast,t. Rev t l ercw., ovary other Sal, • bath. at Di o'clock. V,pers at :1 P.M. ttermsn I,uthersh Church. corner of Pomfret and nettLor4l strap's. Itev C. Fritz.o, Pastor. tier% ices at It u'eloe't It. orAWeen changes In tho :OonVn ore necessary the propor perooDs am requo , tod to notify us. DICKINSON COLLEGI. flay Harman M.dolinson, P. P., Presld-ni and Pro.. ens n. of Moral Srieneo. William C. Wilson, A. M,, Professor of Natural Science and Curator o' the Muae (Ley. William L. itoswell, A. M., Professor of the Ornok sad tloririan Languages. Blallll2ll D. 11.111 w .n, A. 51., Profe sor of Mathemat- ca. John It. Staym in, A. M., Professor of the Latin sod French Languages. Goo James G. Gr,lham, LI,. D , Professor of Law. Re•. Henry C. Chestou, A. B Principal of the Grammar :rchool. John flood, Assistant in the Grammar School. BOARD OF SCUOOL DIRECTORS It. o,rnman. l'roBWent, Jam., If. Saxton st. C. Woodward, hurry Homerich Sert'y W. ithy, Trot:lll,r, Bphar, Meet on the tat MoodAy 01 . 0.43 Month at 8 o'clock. A. , at Education Hall. • CORPORATIONS Cvnttatr; Drrnair 11. VIK t, R. M. Bender. goo, W. M. Beetem Cash..l. V. Hassler end C. B. Mahler Tellers, W. M. Pithier. Clerk, Jnn. Irnderwood Mes senger. Directors, It. M. Itenderson, President, IL, C. Woodward, Skllns Woodburn, Mourn Bricker, John Zug, W. W. Dale, John IL Gorgas, Joseph J. Logan, J no. Stuart, jr. Fle r N4.111.1.u. B ots...—Presidant, Samuel Hepburn Ca-hler. Jos. C. Holier, Teller, Abner C. Brindle, Mes senger, Jesse Drown, Wm. Der, John Dunlap, Woods, John C. Dunlap, Isaac Brenneman, John S. Sterrett, Sam'l. Hepburn, Directors. CLIMACILLAND VA.I.LET RAILROAD COMP ',XT.—President, Frederick Watts: Secretert and Treasurer, Edward AI. Diddle: Superintendent, 0. N. Lull. Passenger trains three times a day. Carlisle Accomnie.mtlon, Eastward, leaves Carlisle 6.55 A. M., arriving at Car lisle 5.20 P. 31. Through trains Eastward, 10.10 A, M. and 2.42, P. M. Westward at 0.27, A. M., and 2.55 P. CAJALISLT. GAS AXD WAS GR COMPAN4.—President, Lem uel Todd; Treasurer, A. L. ttpon , ler; Superintanden, Heorge Wise: Directors, F. Watts, Wm. DL. Ileetesut H. M. Biddle, Henry Saxtbn, It. C. Woodward, J. W. Patton, P. tiardnor, and 11. 0 11, Croft. SOCIETIES. Cumberland SW Lodge No. 197, A. Y. M. meets at Marion Ball on the 2ud and 4th Tuesdays of every mouth. Bt. John's Lodge No. 260 A. Y. M. Mete 3d Thurs day of each month, at Marion Mall. Carlisle Lodge No. 01 I. 0. of 0. F. Meets Monday evening, at Trout's building. Letort Lodge No. 63, I. 0. of 0. T. Meets every Thursday evening in Itheem's Mall, 3d story. 0 FIRE COMPANIES. The Union Fire Company was organized In 1789. House In Louthor. between l'lttand Hanover. The Cumberland Fire Company was Instituted Feb. 18, 1800. House in Bedford, between Slain and rem• fret. The Gond Will Fire Company was instituted In March, 1855. house in Pomfret, neer Hanover. The Empire Hook and Ladder Company was institu ted lu 1859. House In Pitt, near Main. RATES OP POSTAGE Postage on all letters of ono half ounce;weight or under, 3 gents pro paid. Postage on the HERALD w ithin the Oounty, free. Within the State 19 cents per annum. To any part of the United States, 26 cents Postage on all [ran. Melt papers, 2nents per ounce. Advertised letters to tie charied with cost of advertising. MRS. 11. A. SMITH'S Photographs, Ambrotypes, lvorytypes Beautiful Albums'l Beautiful Frames ! Albums for Ladies and Gentlemen, Albur4 fcr Misses, and for Children, Pocket Albums for Soldiers and Civilians! pbolecatAlbumsl Prettiest Albums! Cheapest Albums! OR CHRISTMAS GIFTS I Fresh and Now from Now York :wad Philadelphia Markets. TF you want satisfactory Pictures and jponte attention call at Mrs. R. A. Smith's Photo. graphic Gallery, South East Corner of Hanover Street nd Market Square, opposite the Court Rouse and Post gale% Carlisle, Pa. sirs. It. A. Smith well known as Mre. R. A. Reynolds, and so w.ell known ace Daguerrean Artier, gives per. penal attention le f i addes and Gentlemen visiting her Oratory, and having the best of Artists and polite at. andante can safety promise that in no other Gallery can-those who favor her with a call get pletures eupe ; kir to hers, not even In Now York or Philadelphia, or *tit with more kind and prompt attention. ,Ambrotypes inserted In Rings, Lockets, Breast Pine, &.a. Perfect copies of Daguerrotypes and Ambrotypes 13(10 of deceased friends. Where copies are defaced, ife.like pictures may still be bad, either for frames or or cards. All negativea_preserved ono year and orders lit) , mall or otherwise Promptly attended to. December 23,1804—tf r1 3 HE 'FORWARDING AND GRAIN Inteineee fbrineily conducted by Ltuo, Wee & po., Is now carded on by juiy go, iBBl,7tr ',, " .i DR ' . WM. Er• 00011, HOMOHOPATEIIC PHYSICIAN, Surgeon and i Accouchozir PIPIQE at his residence iTz Pitt street, adjoining the Methodist Church. • July li 180-1. . , , rtllOlOE SEGI-ABB - 8z; TOBACCO, kAT ItALO'O2,l,B . infinite variety a awl:. iis.gl.64inetr,u..otivl9.mAti f fa vArsti!Vis Drcis ney VOL. 65. RHEEM & WEARLEY, Editors & Proprietors SOUTH CAROLINA. 1885• Behold her now, with rootless, flashing eyes, Crouching, a thing forlorn, beside the way I Behold her ruined altars heaped to-day With ashes of her costly sacrifice I Row e nged tho onro proud State that led tho strifo, And flung tho war-cry first throughout tho land I .See helpless now the parricidal hand Which aimed the first blow at the nation's life! The grass is growing in the city's street, Where stand the shattered spires, the broken wall!; And through tbe.soleinn nonielay silence falls The sentry's feetstep an he treads his boat. Behold o- co morn tho old flag proudly wove Above the ruined fortreen by the Foal No longer shall that glorious banner be The ensign of a land whore dwells the aleve. Hark ! on the air what swelling anthems rlbe A ransomed people, by the sword sot free, Are chanting now a song of liberty Ileac how their voices echo to the skies! 0 righteous retribution, great and just! Behold the tree fallen to the earlh, , Where Freedom, rising from n second birth, No m-rn shell trail bar garment, -in-the dust Dark, dreary eyes looked 'out upon the close of a sweet October day, passing in purple fire. The lofty hills caught the gorgeous hues of triple-colored clouds, and threw back golden, crimson and pur ple gleams upon jetty hair and polished forehead. One rounded arm supported a pale, cheek, both white and pure as marble, while the form bent slightly expressed in every lino and curve of the graceful limbs, the sigh which had just escaped her lips. Oh, I am sad. " " And why ?" It was a mental question, but by her own sclfmonitor. " Because life seems a failure," was the reads reFronse. " What have I done' —what has it brought we ?" She rose and stood before a mirror. The figure reflected there was tall, ski) der and graceful. The face—pale as barian—was absnlutely regal in its beauty hut the dark hair lying in such glossy folds over the forehead, was threaded with silver, and the eyes deep, wistful— almost pleading in their natural glance ?done—the weary scud looked through her clear windows unchecked--but the rumment another soul cane near, the ur tains were dropped. and tender and faith ful indeed must bo the friend who might even catch a glimpse of the light shining through. " Tnirty ;" she sighed, " and still fair. Yet what has it availed me? I prized my beauty—not for the homage it brought. 11 c , hulas I prize all things God has emu. cd, and through it a rich gift from Ills hands, that should win me influence through which to do good, and love that might sweeten my lifo to happiness. Alas! how all has failed me. This beauty has won me both love and power, but the love brought pain; because noble het;its were pained and despairing—and all my power has not been sufficient to win and, !Mid that love I covet—the crown with.. out Which woman's life is a failure. flow often I might have been a beloved and honored wife! The chances were not few, but happiness cannot be purchased at the expense of principle, and I never loved but one! That one is blind to my devotion, and daily stabs me with blows keener than a two-edged sword. People call me cold. Cold with a heart fluttering like a prison_ ed bird! When every sound of his step for years h'ns sent the hot blood to my cheeks in crimson waves. Thus the world judges its daughters. It seals her lips upon the most sacred of sentimet.ts. She may not breathe one word that can betray her; and when she is faithfulest to its rule, and keeps pure her reputation for maidenly pride and delicacy, it turns upon her with no greater reward than the sting ing words, cold,' icy," heartless.' Let her unbend but for a moment to escape this charge, and they sneer ' coquette, and trifler.' Ah, Mend." with a sadly dreary smile at the pale face reflected in the mirror, " it is a sorrowful thing tom) one's thirtieth anniversary unwed. Life indeed seems a failure. I would it could end." She cast herself down hopelessly, her face buried in the sofa-pillow, where she lay for a long time motionless. Some people seem born to adverse fates, and it did seem that the beatitiful Maud Prince was one of those unfortunate be ings. -.Beautiful, laightninded, she drew crowds of followers without an effort, but the one to whom she gave her affections seemed blind .to the truth. Womanly principle built un a . barrier of reserve be tween her - and her many suitors, which caused the world to °barge her with yold ness. Many even thought her haughty and disdainftil; and when driven t to some thing softer and warmer, in manner by these Charge 4, the warm, true heart stung to smarting with the injustice, it was equally unkin JOHN OADASON, Gromn. Cumb. Thus she had battled thr oug h years— tier yearning heart sick and weary with fruitless longings which still would not be hushed. Twilight crept into the room. The slight figure , waa 'just dimly outlined against the crimsoned cushions, when a muffled footfall roused her from her room! (I'bil'L' al o,Tilli f sl 1 t 'sfuOtitiL s aii.ttETniTila. MAUD PRINCE. bent position and she rose to meet familiar visitor, from whose eyes it were well the obscurity hid the humidity of her own,as well as their deep, passionate - light. " All alone; Maud ? Well, lam glad. There is no other in the world to whom I can open my heart fully, and I must do it now, or my strength will forsake me. Sit down again. I will sit by you. There, you are ready to listen, are you not ?" " Yes, Horace, go on," in sweet, steady tones that concealed the quik heart beats stirring her bosom. " Strange," he murmured, half reflect ively yet in sad tones. " What 58 there in woman that makes her so fascinat ing and yet so perverse ? Here I have been idolizing her very image for fifteen years! She knows it; she seems at once tender and pitiful—and yet cruel as the rack! rand, I am hair wild to-night. Soothe me—comfort me Upon can. 'Weak and foolish as. it is, I almost wish I could die!" Ile did not see one little hand raised stealthily to brush away a tear, or how the sweet lip quivered. Soon she asked him quietly to tell her what had disturb ed him, and he went on passionately. • "I have been rejected finally and positive ly. I could no longer endure the torturing suspense, and demanded an interview which mustset the seal to my fate. I went to her. I reminded her of those past years and her plighted troth when we were both children in years but not in affection. Iler mother kept us apart through pru dential motives, and because I was not a millionaire, forsooth she drove ice forth wanderer You know how all these weary years have been spent. One or two drag ged their slow length sthrough Europe. Then 1. went into the wilds of western forests—clambered among the Rocky Mountains—mingled with the rabble at Pike's Peak, and delved with the gold_ diggers in California mines. I could never rorget and never ceased to suffer. Through all day and Might, Sarah's pale, sweet flier!, as she stood with her hand in mine for the last time, and promised to remain true to me, seemed to shine like a star luring me back again after the lapse of years with a hope of calling her mine. " I came—again sought her, and was rejected by the relentless mother. Sarah was no longer under authority, but was loving and dutiful, and turned from me in obedience to her will. But fur your steady friendship and ready sympathy I I must have gone wad in those days. They were too bit ter to be borne alone, and of ad the world I have found no friend su faithful and changeless as you, Maud . 1V ell, you know how I went furth again the same old round, striving either for forget fulness or patience. Years passed to which I never saw her; but from time to time I heard that she was still unmarri ed,• and hugged the hope and faith in her love to my heart with something like com fort. "At last they told m o her mother was dead. God forgive me for the glad beat. ing in toy heart when the tidings came; i but long sufferings had made me heartless for all others, and bitter toward that one bitter enemy to my happiness. 1 hasten ed home, and soon afterwards saw her sweet face, still white, behind its mourn ing veil. I cannot tell you how I felt, cr how I kept away from her side, but I did it. Once again I passed as she was stepping from her carriage, and our eyes met. She paused, and t held forth my hand into which she laid the little black gloved palm, fluttering like a frightened bird—and I carried it to my lips. There were no words. It was no fitting time or place so I lifted my hat with profound re verence and went away; but 13 ha knew from that moment I still loved, still hop ed and waited for her. Perhaps I was too hasty, but as the month dragged en I grew frantic, and could bare it no longer. Again I sought her presence with difficul ty, and then I could withhold nothing. All the suffering and agony of years came forth in a torrent, andshe wept like a child. But not a word of love and hope came from her lips! Only a pitying look— , welds of sympathy and regret, and a firm, positive rejection. Oh, Maud, I can scarce ly believe her human, now I How could she act so strangely—lead' me on with hope, and let mo drag through years of Whiting to 'such an end. From my boy hood I have looked upon Women as cm-' bodied angels. To-night they all,' save yourself—kind little friend—seem embod ied demons I Oh, torture !" ~ Ho paced the room (leek and forth with hurried, passionate strides. Maud, with her white, tear-wet thee, bedewed by drops of torture beyond hitt,wn, sat and listened to' his quick breath and the harsh grinding of his teeth as he writhed 'in his impo tent passion. She hat' no power to help him now. fie bad met hie fate. and was struggling with it. W ben he needed her ho would come back to her side, and she would sit and itariss Win withgentletoues,- while - Wpresssd the dagger against her heart. .She must do' it to sustain her part of Mend,- Not for a moment did she' darglit shrink now—for here was the meat oiritioal point in her life, and everything_ 0:46a upon its lotto. ',,, Several minutes. passed l .and klo O use a before,ber. , His voice waa•tremulnutt and iitisky:when.ho'spoke,: ' CARLISLE, PA., FRIDAY, MARCH T 5, 1865. "Maud, I was a brute to rush upon her at such a time, when all her heart and house are shrouded with thegloom of death. I ought to,have waited, longer. She dearly loved her mother, and the remembrance of her dislike to me must have affected her decision in this untimely pressing of my suit. Little friend, you are a woman and know the way to a woman's heart. Go to Sarah and win forgiveness for my folly. Ask her to recall her deeisiou and make mo wait as long as she may choose— only to be merciful and give me some hope for coming time. Tell her my life is in her hands—that I 'cannot live after all these wasted years, without some re ward. My little friend, will you do it ?" "Yes, Horace, and at once," in sweet prompt tones as she rose and grasped the bell cord. He saw not the pallid lips that spoke the cheering words, nor the glitter ing of tears upon her white cheeks which he had wrung one by one from the faith ful heart. He only realized that she was by him now, as in years past ready to coni• fort and aid him all in her power, and a burst of gratitude bubble over his lips •almost like a sob. " God , bless you, laud You are good and noblest of woman. I shall hope now for she cannot withstand your pleading, though she turns from mine." No more than the tears or pallid face did he see the little scornful curve of the quivering lip. Something in his words jarred upon her nature harshly, when he thus yielded his fate into the bands of another where his own love and eloquence should have won. But the next moment a crimson stain was on her forehead. Did she not herself love us madly, as weakly, and yet she dared to censure him. 1l is hive was open and honorable. Ile could lay it, at the feet of its object, even if rejected, while she must close the doors of her soul upon hers, and set a strong guard of despotic will over them. Was ever loving woman so tried ? Must she go forth with all that fire at heart, and with steely determination plead with another for him she loved - :' Iler idolatry was deep dml broad. Iler love would have enshrined him within sacred and pure reeesses. She would have blessed and enriched his life, and knowing it thi, task was hitter—oh, so bitter. "Help me, oh my God !" she prayed with p :P510110.3 intensity, _Upon hcl• knees with piteous sobs. But the next moment she had risen and forced them back. She bathed her face, donned bon net and cloak, and descended the stairs. Horace stood waiting to attend her to the carriage, and as she entered, bade her a tremulous "God speed," hope and fear in his faltering tones, and then as she drove away, looking through the window, she caught a glimps of him as he stood with bared brow and hair rippled by the light breeze. A sudden turn, and the manly figure could no longer be seen. Shc had scarce ly time to compose herself before the car riage stopped before Miss Lester's ele gant residence. They had known each other from ear ly youth, were'familiar friends, and yet it was with trembling that Maud stepped across the threshold iind waited the reply to her message, which she did not omit to say was important. Ten minutes slipped away, and the barearmed girl glided in pale end shad owy. Maud stood up to meet her, held out her hands, and as they clasped the two cold little palms, their oyes met.— Sarah's were full of untold misery— Maud's of pitying love and inquiry. "What is it, Sarah ? Death has not done all this. The wretchedness written upon your face and in your eyes must spring from something else, for I know you have faith in God and are not rebel lious." "Don't say that, Maud," she cried out deprecatingly. "I have rebelled—not that He took my mother from me—but for the other trouble which you see. Oh Maud, life is like Sodom apples for ma. I almost wish I could die." "What is 41 Let me help you. Is it connected with him ?" "You moan Horace Gernard ?" Lift ing her eyes with a half frightened glance to Allaud's face. "Yes, Sarah. ]t is of him I came to speak to night. "T know all that has pass ed for years, and have taken it upon my self to come and plead his cause since he has failed signally. Sarah, boar with me. Wasare old friends, and I come to you with pure motives. I want to see you happy, Heaven knows. But let me ask you one question in the beginning. You have, you must have loved him all these years." ' "Yes," sinking' down upon a sofa, still paler if possible, with quick drawn breath. Maud kept fast the little hands. Her tones wore very sweet and tender in con tinuing. "lirrinwitT — for:l — balieved you gr - V,id and true always, Sarah. Else you could not have encouraged !limas you'did. Yet you have sent him forth for ever, and be . IS desperate. Do you know that woman waa_never _so fondly:loved as he-loves-you —.4ls he has loved you for fifteen, years? Have you thought of his lonely, unsatis fied, longing life all this time ? Ail) you willing to account for these wasted years. —for you have taken them all, Sarah, and aro giving him nothing in return.— This plea of a mother's dislike is not suf ficient to reconcile him to your loss after so much suffering. if you aro sending him from you indeed, to come no more, it is but just to give him more satisfac tory reasons. Yet why send him away at all ? You love him, and ho is good and noble. Any woman might be proud of his love. I know you too well to charge you with capriA, otherwise I must have thought very strangely of your confusion just now. It perplexes and troubles me. I beg you for your own sake, for his sake, to think well before you dash this cup from your lips. The rich red wine of life is in it, and its value cannot be told. Spill it once, and it is gone for over. Ah, Sarah, be merciful to him— -true to yourself." ' The ,poor girl snatched her hands from Maud's clasp and pressed them together in agony. "Oh, you will kill me l" she gasped "You do not know what you are saying! Merciful to him ? I am, in my silence. True to myself I cannot be and speak. I tell you, Maud Prince, I shall go mad or —die I This is more than I can bear !" Crimson stains were on the cheeks now, and the blue eyes blazed with excitement. Long tresses of pale, golden lustre fell down to her waist loosed from their fast enings, and floated like waves of light over the sombre robes. Maud's eyes fol lowed her as she paced the floor with hands tightly clasped, thinking how little wonder it was that he loved her so much. with this wondrous and winning beauty And how different, too, from the stately lady she had onlya little whilesinee seen cted from the or and depths of her mirror. Ah, no wonder sh'f was not pre ferred before this angelic being, fairy-like in form arid feature, with all of a strong, true woman's principle and feeling. "Coma back Sarah," she said at last. -Sit down by me and compose pursed'. must try to understand each other." She obeyed passively. The very strength of her excitement wore it out, leaving her calm and weary. Maud en circled her with an arm, and drew this bowed head to her shoulder. "There ! Now tell of this trouble, and I will try to help you out of it." "Ah, Maud! you cannot—you or any one in the wide world. There is noth ing but death left fur tie, and that is tar dy in bringing we rest. It is very hard to find sweet life so bopekssly blighted as wine. I thought it hard to wait for years and years, but the hope that my mother woind relent, kept. me up, I think. All the suffering was riot on his side, Maud. Only a woman knows what wo man can suffer and be silent, and I do riot expect he will ever dream what those years have been to too. "Put Maud, ail the sweet, lung cher itbed dreams faded away from my moth er's dying bed. She questioned me then and learned from me what lay enshrined in toy heart. What followed was terrible —the talc she told me was worse than a death blow. Don't be shocked, but the grief for-her loss was not so deep as the woe her revelation brought we in the last hour. Maud, Horace, is my step-brother. We are children of the same mother—he by a former marriage across the seas. There was trouble. My mother and ber husband were separated by a misunder standing, and her child went, while yet an infant, to his grand-parents. For years she never saw him, and at last sail ed fur America, leaving him behind. ''The suffering of that time hardened her', I think. Airthat was soft and ten der in her nature seemed to give place to resolute will, and strength or purpose. She made friends, and by her wealth— for sbe had a handsome income settled upon her,she established a position agree able and pleasant as farms appearance go. When news came of her husband's death, she married again, and of that marriage lam the only child. All the strong pas sions of her nature were coneentitted then in an idolatrous love of, myself. I think she loved nothingelse on earth, but it did not soften her when her will was differ ent, and opposed to my inclinations. She never unbent in her purposes even to please me. "By some strange t !fatality, Horace came to America while I was yet a little girl. Stranger still, his home ,was-reared within sight of my own, and we became acquainted. His uncle and aunt bad not known my mother, so there was no danger of recognition. Yet what 'seems stranger toino now, was the steeling of My mother's heart against her son. She told • me, when dying, that it was the • thought of his being so like his father who, by his cruelty, excited her hatred. Never once did a look of maternal ten derness beam from her cy6s, and.l hikve soon thetreOgether in his youth and his _ -manhood. Why she kept us apart so rigidly is easily understood; why she contiella the truth from me so long I shall never know." " . • r - A. little pause, then she wont on hur riedly undivided love is no light thing, qt .cannot- he oast aside with a breath. I fear ,now that the effort to plianie : gky nature will prove a failUre, • ,pearer than a brother he has aalii been to me, and is still, though I sin in the confession. What is there left for me on earth ? Maud, I had no courage to tell him the truth. I thought the blow would kill him, and that a decided rejection on the ground of my mother's prohibition would end it. If I could only have carried this see,rct down to the grave with me ! But you have wrested it, from me. Now let me have peace to the end ; it will not be for long." Very tenderly did the stronger woman gather the drooping head to her bosom, dropping soft kisses upon the pale fore head. Tears fell warm and bright. upon the shining hair, for all the compassion of a generous soul was roused. A gen tle caressing, then she took leave of the sorrowing sister and went back with her sad story to him whom she found still waiting her beneath the trees of the lawn. As the carriage stopped, his hand was on the door instantly, and she was al most lifted from it to the graveled drive. She felt the trembling of his,wholo frame as he drew her fingers within his arms and led her off through shaded paths, where only little filterings of pale moon light fell through shimmering leaves. He found a rustic seat and placed her upon it, standing up before her to hear what she had to tell him. The bitter ness of the task broke her down. With sobs beyond control, she buried her face in her hands and wept. ‘• Ah ! I sec," he murmured huskily, " you have no words of cheer for me, and your kind heart grieves over my misery. 1)o not cry, Maud, my dear friend, I am not sure either of us are worthy of such tears as yours." His tones were no linger• husky, but hitter, and brought up her face instantly. '• Von wrong her, I f orace. It is true th a t I bring n o hope, but you must not condemn her. f=ood, and, pure as the angels she is—hiving you above all else in the world. Oh ! my heart is so sor rowful, I do not lunar lloW to find words fie• this painful story." " 110 not keep me waiting, though.— Oh Maud ! take my hand—press yours to my forehead. See how I suffer—my whole Immo is on tire. Tell me quickly, I that I may know why she is so cruel.— How can she be so, when s he lo v es me ?" " Patience, my friend. I will tell you all And she did tell him all, in her own sweet, gentle way ; striving to soften the blow, which, in spite of her efforts, stunned him. Ere she had finished, his r estleQs feet were stilled. Like one smit ten, lie sank down beside her,daniiing his face in his hands with a deep groan. the could do no more. All that could be done had already been given. Com fort lay not in her power, though her woman's heart yearned over its suffering love. With wet cheeks and quivering lips, she cast one glance upon the bowed head and stole softly away, leaving hint alone with his unniteralde sorrow. This was a sad night fur Maud, spent in tears and prayers. This morning brought her a message from Sarah, and in answer to it she hastened away to find the poor girl in a raging fever. The weeks that followed were full of anxious watching, but all her tender care could not save the object of her solici tude. Day after day the "fever raged with fearful violence, and at last they knew that she must die. Then Maud sent for Horace. and he came to his step sister's dying bed, grave and calm like one who had fought and conquered, but -the scars of the conflict marred lip and brow. 'Weariness and pallor were on the one, deep lines upon the other, and the hair was blanching fast to gray. " Poor Sarah ! The fires have burned fiercely for you and I, but I trust that our lives have been purified." " Yes," answered Maud in low tones, for the invalid's eyes were closed, and no answering beam shot from the still blue depths. " And God loveth whom He chasteneth. Having purified her He is taking her to Himself. I do not think it is sad to die. If I could take her place, I should not shrink from the sight of the mysteries He is unfolding to her gaze!' His eyes were lifted from the serene features of the dying girl to his friend's. They too, were serene, but the eyes were veiled by drooping lashes. He could not catch her meaning through them, and though he wondered, he remained silent. It was all over at length. One weary heart rested, and the fair head was, laid away under the churchyard Boil. From her grave Horace turned away subdued and worn. Long....atruggling had made him weak in spite Of his will, and ho knew that he could not bear to , remain in the old place. So he was once more a wanderer—seeking for Test and peace where they are never fouud—in the busy world. 7, Four more years were added to Maud's life ore they met. again. They had touched her , only with softening influ nees,.. If more silver glittered among the jetty folds of her hair, there was Mere of : divine sweetness in the depths of her beautiful eyes--softer lines talent • the lovely mouth. It was evening, anweet, fragrant cyan- TERMS:—S2,OO in Advance, or $2,50 within the year ing, like that of long ago, when she had watched the glorious sunset from her window. October mists still seemed to linger over the hills, and as she paced back and forth beneath the tall trees in pleasant reverie, till the twilight deep ened and the silver moonbeams again Ill tored through the changing leaves, a quiet, steady step drew near her.—a well remembered voice gave her greeting. "So you are hero, Maud ? Do you know I thought I should find you just in this spot, and I came without even going first to the house to inquire. My little friend how are you?" " Well," she answered, suffering him to clasp both of' her hands in his warm palms with cordial pressure. " And happy ?" " Contented, at least," she answered again, laughingly. " Good. lam glad for this much.— Yet I believe I am not altogether pleased either. I was in hopes there might be a lack of something—a—a—" He paused . , and she lifted her eyes to his face with a swift, inquiring glance, searching his flushed face till the glow .deepened to crimson. " Oh, Maud, he went on rapidly, " think I have been very blind and fool ish. I might have been happier all those weary years if I had known as I do now, what I most needed. Ido know now, and I have conic to beg you to take the scattered threads of my life into your hands, and try to weave them into a use ful fabric. All that is left fur me on earth is in your keeping. In these last years I have learned to appreciate you, and if I bring you a shattered life, I also bring an enduring love. Yes, Maud, 1 do lovo you deeply and truly, with a wiser and holier love than that which was lost. Will you accept it, Maud ? Will you come to my heart at home?— Can you love mo a little; or what there. lis left of me ? 1 know 't do not deserve I it. But lam very lonely, my darling." The eyes that had searched his face had drooped while he was speaking, and the lashes lay wet upon her cheeks ; but the sweet lips smiled a glad, radiant smile, hidden in his bosom as his arms enfolded her in a strong clasp. " Oh, Maud—wife—darling, there is • happiness the world for mo yet," he murmured, " Thank God for this bless- And her glad heart responded, -Thank (.od." LION. ELLTs LEWIS.—The last number of The Printer, an excellent monthly pe riodical published in the City of New Vork, --conpins interesting extracts of Typographical Itentimscences " of the New York Typographical Society, written by l‘lr. Charles McDevitt, an old member, from which we extract the followingsketch of a former distinguished and esteemed fellow-citizen, Ron. Ellis Lewis, ex-Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Penn sylvania. It will be read with much in terest by his many friends: Judge Lewis became a member of the New York Typographical Society in the year 1817, on the nomination of the late Thomas Snowden. Although separated from it by distance, he fondly clings to the pleasurable associations of his youth. He visited the Society some years ago, at one of our annual gatherings of the craft from all quarters of the Union, after an absence of thirty years. Although he met but few of his former associates, yet it was like the return of a first love to the object of his youthful devotion. Mr. Lewis was a compositor for some time on the "old" New York Courier, under Barent Gard• onier, and afterward continued in the office of the .A'; , io York Daily Advertiser, under Dwight & Walker. He was employed in the same offices with our late lamented brother, Gen. Morris, Samuel Woodworth, one of the Harpers, and many others of the ; old -school. On leaving this city he returned to Pennsylvania, edited a news paper fora time, studied the legal profes sion, was elected to Legislature, afterwards taken into Gov. Wolfe's Cabinet as At torney-General; then appointed Judge of the Eighth Jtiliicial District, and a few years subsequently io the Second Judicial District, composed 'of Lancaster county, which is as populous as some of our small states. He pursued a life of unremitting industry and study, and, by improving hours which many others devoted toarnase ment and recreation, he was enabled to produce his celebrated work on the "Crim inal Law of the United States," and to do his share as one of the editors of the American Law Journal. number of years ago, when the best talent of our country was called into requisition to-es tablish . a system of Common Schools, Thaddeus Stephens, a distinguished law yer, made a - masterly speech in the Penn sylvania Legislature in favor of education. Judge Lewis was then zealously engtigcd in promoting the same oatxse, by deliver , ing literary and seientiac lectures. At this time a poem in favor of education made its appearance,- The Judge_ made inquiry concerning thenuilmr, who proved , t, b e Lydia, Jane Pierson, who . had just _thn_ptiblishelLher._!lrorest.Leaves.l'--He ascertained that the lady had been at one time, in good cireumskiii;Ses, but owing to the illness of her husband, and a sad train ef micrortwips, , the fair aqthoress was r,vith- out a home, and in a state of , great peed niary embarrassment. Mr. Stephens was then a rich bachelor. Judge Lewis met him in the House of Itt3presentatives, - and suggested the propriety of raising some thing for the relief of so much talent.— Mr. Stevens immediately authorised the Judge to purchase a suitable farm, such as the lady herself might select, Without any limit to the price. The lady was overwhelmed with astonishment when she received a letter from Judge Lewis, who was only known to her hi? reputa tion, rpprising her of his commissiorr She made the selection, and the Judge' made the purchase, drew on Mr. Stevens• for the money, and forwarded the deed, drawn in, favor of Lydia Jane Pierson,. her heirs and assigns, forever. From this . secluded retreat, situated in one of the' northern counties of Pennsylvania, she sent forth poems which never , fail to de light all who take pleasurein the remin iscences of rural scenery antof by-gone NO, 10. I= A short time ago Judge Lewis made a tour of observation through England, France, and Germany, during which he increased his knowledge and enlarged his mind by a careful study of the manners, customs and political systems of thirEercr. pean communities. He returned refresh , ed mentally and physically, and is now enjoying t r he Indian Summer of his days. A. few years since I received a private' letter from him, and I hope the present occasion may be considered an exousia for making a portion of it public. near what the kind-hearted Judge says: "In the changes which I have experienced, my wind always looks back to the days of youth, spent among the intelligent and, noble•heurted members of the New York Typographical Society in New York. have a diploma as doctor of medicine, and ano• hes from the Transylvania University, at Lexington, Ky., as doctor of laws, but the certificate of membership of the New York Typographical Society is pressed with more affectionate fondness to my heart than all the other honors I have ever received." A Visit to Fort Sumter—COllditiOrk of the Work. " Carleton" writes to the Boston Journal as follows: After a ramble of several hours through the city of Charleston, we made a visit to Sumter, entering by the sally port were Ma jor Anderson and hisfaithful sew entered on that ever tube remembered January night of 18t1. The fort bears little resemblance to its appearanee then, externally or internal ly. IN o portion of the original face of the wall is to be seen, except nil the side towards Charleston, and a portion of that facing mold trie. From the harbor and from Wag ner it appears only a tumuli—the debris of an old ruin. All the casemalcs, arches, pillars, and parapets are torn up, rent iissunder and ut terly demolished. '1 be great guns which two years ago kept the monitors at bay, which Minted and ti undered awhile upon Wagner, are dist dimmed, broken, overturned, and lie buried beneath a mountain of brick, dust, c onerete, sand and Mortar. After Dupont's attack, in. 16 6 .,;, a reiiitoreement of PahnettO 144 g., t‘ as made on the harbor side and against half of the wall facing Moultrio. The low er tier of caseniates ttas filled up with sand bags, but when Gen. Gillmorc obtained pos session, his lire began to crumble the parapet. The rebels endeavored to reconstruct the wall m: to maintain its originatheight by gabions filled with sand, but this compelled a widen ing of the base inside. Thousands of bap tilled with sand were brought to the fort at night. Bombproofs wore constructed. Day at ter day, week after week the pounding from Wagner was maintained SO effectually and thoroughly that it was impossible to keep gun in position on that side. -The only guns 11UNV remaining are five or six un the Moultrie side in the middle tier of cusewates. Five howitzers were kept on the walls to repel an attack by small boats, the garrison keeping under cover or seeking cov, er whenever the lookout cried, 'if shot Cheraux de J . rise of pointed sticks pro tect the fort from a scaling party. At the base outside are iron posts and wire net work. There is also a submerged net-work of wire and chains kept in place by floating limeys. I had the curiosity to make an inspection of the wall facing Moultrie to see what was the etlect the lire of the iron-clads in Du pont s attack. With my glass at that time J. could sue that the ti all wits badly honey combed; a close inspection shows that it was a very damaging tire. There are seams in the masonry and great gashes where the solid bolts crumbled the bricks to fine dust. It is evident that if the tire could have continued any considerable length of time there that the wall would have fallen. The effect of that tire led to the filling up of the lower casemates. "An hour was passed in the fort, the band playing national airs, and the party inspect ing the ruins and gathering relics. Captain James, of the Massachusetts Fifty-Mardi, who is now aid to General Gil more, was of the party. He was wounded in the assault on Wagner. He gazed at the ruins with satisfaction and pleasure, not un mixed with melancholy, for yonder, beneath this sands of Morris Island, his beloved com mander was lying—his colonel, his general, his brother officer, fellow soldier. It is a pity that , he was not there on Saturday, to raise the flag upon the work ; but he was OA duty elsewhere. " For four long years the cannon of Stun-. for have hurled their iron bolts against the. rights of man; but the contest there is end : , ed. The strong earthworks on Sullivan's and Johnston's islands, the batteries in the. harbor, Castle Pickney and Fort Ripley, those in the city erected by slaves, are vise less now and forever, except as monuments_ of folly and wickedness. As I stood there upon the ruins of Sumter, looking down into. the crater, the past like a panorama was un rolled, exhibiting the mighty events wnielt will forever make it historic ground. the silent landing of Major Anderson at thepOS tern gate, the midnight prayer and solemn. consecration of the-little band to defend the flag till the last, the long weeks of prepera,- hon, the imbecile old man at Washington, the Star of the South turning her bow sea ward, the 12th of April, the barracks ()afire the supplies exhausted, the hopelessness of success, the white flag hung out, the surren.- der, and all that has followed, were the pie., Nero nlres of the moment!" N TM' TERRITORY OF WYOMEIO.-. Mr. Ashley's bill for the organization_ of the territory of Wyoming, now pending in the House of Representatives, .detines.the hound, arias of the proposed territory as follows: Be, ginning at the intersection,of the. twenty-fteth degree oflongitude wes-AYom Washington with the forty-first degree of north latitude. thence west to the thirty-third degree of lon. gitude ancirfiortkto the crest of the Rocky Mountains, and running north westerly along this crest to the intersection of the thirty third degree of longitude with forty-four de greesthirty minutes north latitude; thence due west to the thirty fourth degree of lon, giiude then due north to the forty-fifth de gree of,httitude, then due east to the twenty ifth degree of longitude, running south t o - the place of beginning. In. other words, :Wyoming is bounded on the North by Ida, ho, and Dacotah ; on the south by Colorado. and Utah • on the east by Nebraska; on west by , Utah and Idaho, It is carved oat of la Daeotah and Nebraska; Idaho los hag a part of its southeasterly territory, Dan. cotah its southwesterly portion., end ,Nehrss, ka a slice of its westerAluelf. Nevada laying . become .a State,..Wyonaingwillf4rmthe kentlt— territory ; the others being AriAorlN ,Volora- Dacotak _ldaho., Montana Isiebrasks, -- . New Mexico, Utah and .Washington, gore raro ten now States, iruproceSs of formation,, all of which fe*: years take . 14011 place in the Union,'t.