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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.