i
re
TUB BLESSINGS OT GOVERNMENT, 1. 1KB TEH DEWS OF HHAVBN, SHOULD BB DISTRIBUTED ALIKH UPON THE HIGH AND THB LOW, TOE EICH AND TH3 POOR.
NEW SERIES.
EBEXSBURG, FRIDAY, JiNlMY 27, 1851.
VOL. 1 XO. 21.
T E Ii 31 S :
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EIY OLD COMPANIONS.
ET ELIZA COOK.
My; heart has yearned like other hearts,
"With all the fervor youth imparts:
And all the warmth that Feeling lends
lias freely cherished " troops of friends. "
A chrtige has passed o'er tbern and me,
"We are not as we used to be;
My heart, like many another heart.
Sees old companions all depart.
I mark the names of more than one,
But read tbcia on the cold white stone;
And steps tbat followed where mine led,
New on the far off desert tread;
The world has warned some souls away,
That once were honest as the day;
Some dead, sonic wandering, some untrue;
Oh ! old companions arc hut few.
But there are green trees on tho hill,
And blue flags sweeping o cr the rill,
And there are daisies pcepin out,
And dog rose blossoms round about.
Ye were my friends, " long, long ago, "
The first bright friends I sought to know
And yet ye come rove where I will.
Sly eld companions, faithful still.
And there are sunbcam9 rich and fair,
As cheering as they ever were;
And there are fresh winds playing nigh,
As freely as in time gone by;
The birds come singing as of yore, .--
The waves yet ripple to the shore;
Ilowe'er I feel, where'er I range,
Thsse old companions never change.
I'm glad I learnt to love tho things
That Fortune neither takes nor brings;
I'm glad my spirit learned to prize
Tlw broiling face cf sunny skies;
Twas well I clasp'd with doting hand
The balmy wild flowers of the land;
For still ye live in friendsliip sure.
My old companions, bright and pure.
But be we sad, or be we gay,
"With thick curls bright, or thin locks gray,
We never find the spring bloom meet
Our presence with a smile less sweet.
Oh ! I am glad I learned to lovo
The tangled wood and cooing dove;
For these will be in good or ill
My old companions, changeless still.
Tho KerctaufB Bangtter -and the
Judge.
A -TALE OP THE PAST.
The two vessels joined, and the mimic contest
was begun. Of course, the English colors tri
umphed over the Papal. Up to UJs point, the
merchant bore his pangs in silence, but when the
English galley had assumed the victory, then
came tho trial of patience. Effigies of the cardi
nals were hurled into the stream amidst the
shouts and derisions of the mob. At each plunge
groans issued from bis breast. It was in vain
that Emilia clung to his arm and implored him,
by every fear, to restrain himself. Ilis religious
zeal overcame his prudence, and when at last the
fieurc cf the Tope, dressed in his pontifical robes,
was hurled into the tide, the loud exclamation cf
agony and horror burst from "his lips : " Oh mon
strous impiety of an accursed and sacrilegious
king !" sounded loudly above the din of the mob.
It -raa enough, the unhappy merchant was
immediately consigned over to tho secular arm.
Oh ! sad were those prison hours ! the girl told
her beads the father pi a3'ed to all the naints
and then came the vain consolation by which one
endeavored to cheat the other. They thought of
their own sunny land, its balmy air, its living
beauty, and that thought was home.
November came with all its gloom the month
that should have been the grade of the year, com
ing as it dees with Whroud and cerecloth, foggy,
dark, and dreary ; the father's brow numbered
more wrinkles, the once black hair was more
Dearly bleached, the features more attenuated.
And the daughter ! ah ! youth is the transpa
rent lamp of hope but in her the light was dim.
In fear and trembling the unhappy foreigners
waited the day of doom. Tho raerchaut's offence
teas oae little likely to meet with mercy Henry
was jealous of his title as head of the church. lie
tad drawn up a code of articles of belief, which
his subjects were desired to subscribe to ; he had
instituted a court of which he had made Lord
Cromwell, Vicar General, for the express train of
those whose orthodoxy in the king's creed was
called in question, cither coi-'-
i.... w- unhappy
.e W noa lavur uu wu.- ouuge, lor
. . . i ie.i Cvrm, ti-1 1 p&a Klmni-'w it .
tached to the mowing reformation ; and from the
... o...;t V.S be had latclv visited
J . . . j- u:
some
r.f thn adherents of the Komisn crcea m un
new character of Vicar General, it was scarcely
probable that he would show mercy to one at
tached, by lineage end love, to papal Rome.
Strangers as they were, unknowing and unknown
what had they not to fear, and what was left for
hope ?
Tb morning cf trial came. Th fogs cf that
dismal month spread like dark veil over our
north. There was no beauty in tho landscape,
bo light in the Heavens and no hope inthehsart.
wretched delinquents came to receive jjheir doom.
We suppose it to be a refinement of modern days
that men are not punished for their crimes, but
only to deter others from committing them. This
court of Henry's seemed to think otherwise; there
was all the array of human passions in the Judg
es, as well as in the judged. On one hand re
creant fear abjured his creed ; on another, hero
ism braved all contingencies, courting the pile and
the stake with even passionate desire, and the
pile and stake were given with unrelenting cru
elty. At length there stood at the bar an agod man
and a youthful girl ; the long white hair of the
one fell loosely over the shoulders, and left un
shaded a face wrinkled as much by care as by
age , the dark locks of the other were, braided
over a countenance clouded by sorrow and wet
with tears.
The mockery of trial went on. It was easy to
prove what even the criminal did not attempt to
gainsay. The aged merchant avowed his fidelity
to the Tope as a true son of the church denied
the supremacy of Henry over any part of tho fold.
and thus scaled his own doom.
There was an awful stillness tlirough the court
-stillness, tho precursor of doom broken only
by tho sobs of the weeping girl, as she clung to
her father's arm. Ilowbeit, the expected sen
tence was interrupted ; then came a suddt-n rush;
attendance thronged the court. " Room for Lord
Cromwell ! room for Lord Cromwell !" and the
Ticar General came in his pomp and stale, with
all tho insignia of office, to assume his place of
pre-eminence at that tribunal. Notes of the
proceedings were laid before Lord Cromwell. He
was told of the intended sentence, and he made a
gesture cf approbation.
A gleam of hope seemed to dawn upon the mind
cf the Italian girl as Lord Cromwell entered.
Sho watched his countenance while he read ; it
was stern, indicative of calm determination ; but
there were lines in it that spoke more cf mista
ken duty than innate cruelty. Yet when the
Vicar General gave his token of assent tho steel
entered Eta ilia's soul, and a sob, the veriest ac-
, Jit of despair, ran through that court, and
where it met the human heart, pierced thro'.igh
all the cruelty and oppression that armed it, and
struck upon the natural feelings that ditidc mcv, j
from monsters. j
rrt i i s .. - .
ouu uim..wm,oii.vi-iin,!
eye sought the place whence it proceeded ;tVs,
ted on Emilia and her father. A strange emo
tion passed over the face of the stern judge a
perfect stillness followed.
Lord Cromwell broke the silence. Ho glanced
over tho notes that had been handed to him,
speaking apparently to himself: " From Italy
a merchant Milan ruined Ly the wars ay,
those Milan wars were owing to Clement's am
bition and Charles' knavery tho loss of sub
stance to England to reclaim an old indebt
tnent." Lord Cromwell's eye rested once more upon
the merchent and his daughter. " Ye are of Ita
ly from Milan is that your birth place ?"
" We are Tuscans," replied the merchant of
Lucca, "and eh! noble Lord, if there is mercy
in thi3 world show it now to this unhappy
girl!"
" To both or to neither !" exclaimed the girl.
" We will live or die together I"
The Vicar General made answer to neither.
He rose abruptly ; at a sign from him the proper
officer declared the court adjourned. The suffer
ers were hurried back to their cell, some went
whither they would, others where they would
not ; but all disappeared.
A faint and solitary light gleamed from a
chink of the prison wall it came from the nar
row cell cf the Italian merchant and his daugh
ter. The girl slept ay, slept. Sleep docs r. t al
ways leave the wretched to light upon lids unsul
lied with with a tear. Reader thou has known
intense misery, and canst thou remember how
thou hast felt and wept and agonized until the
very excitement of the misery wore out of the
body's power of endurance, and slept Lkc a tor
por, a stupor, a lethargy, bound thee in itschains?
Into such a sleep had Emilia fallen. She was ly
ing on the prison floor, her face pale, as if ready
for the grave, the large tears yet resting upon
her cheeks, and over her sat the merchant, think
ing what a treasure ihc was and had ever been
to him ha could wish that sleep to be the sleep
of death.
The clanking of a key caught the merchant's
ear, a gentle sleep entered the prison. The fath
ers first thought was for his child. lie made
uiOticn to enjoy silence; it was obeyed. His vis
itor advanced with a quiet tread ; the merchant
looked upon him with wonder. Surely no
and vet should it be! that his judge, Lord Crom-
rol1 tho Vicar General, stood before lam, and
stood notwith threatening in his eye, not with
denunciation his lips, but took his stand on the
other side of Emilia gazing upon her wi
eye in which pity and teo vcre conspicu.
ous.
Amazement bound up the faculties of the iner-
Ue seemed to himself as one that aeam-
cnaue
ol li
'Awake, gentle girl, awake, said Lord Lrom
Let me hear
well, as he stooped over Emilia.
I .1 - ;f cr.. ir.V.l in mine tar
; 'uwuatc luuiv., " "
in other days.'
The gentle accents fell too light to break the
spell of the heavy slumber, and the merchaut,
whose tears, feelings and confusion formed a per
fect chaos, stooging over his child suddenly a
woke her with the cry of Emilia! awake and be
hold our judge!
"Nay, nay, not thus roughly , said Lord Crom
well; but the sound had already called Emilia to
a sense of wretchedness. She half raised herself
bmA W twmJx jxtui into kniing d.
sha lowing her dazzelcd eyes with her hand, her
streaming hair falling in wild disorder over her
shoulders, and thus restir.g at tho Let of her
judge.
" Look on me, Emilia, said Lord Cromwell;
and encouraged by the gentle accents, she raised
her tear-swollen eyes to his face. As sho did so
the Vicar-General lif.cd from his brow his plumed
cap and revealed the perfect outlines of his fea
tures. And Amelia gazed as if spell-bound, until
gradually shades of doubt, of wonder, of recog
nition, came struggling over her countenance;
and, finally in a voice of passionate amazement,
she exclaimed: " It is the same! it is our sick
soldier guest ! "
" Even so, " said Lord Cromwell, " even so,
my dear and gentle nurse. He w ho was then the
poor dependent on your bounty, receiving from
your charity his daily bread as an alms, htth this
day presided over the issues of life and death as
your judges; but fear not, gentle Emilia, the sight
of thee, comes like the memory of youth, and
kinklicr thoughts cross tho sterner mood that
lately darkened over me. They whose voice may
influence the destiny of a nation gradually loose
the memory of gentler thoughts. It may be Prov
idence that hath sent thee to melt me back again
into a softer nature. Many a h-art shall be glad
dened, that but for my sight of thee unto death.
I bethink me, gentle girl, of the flowers laden with
dew and rich with fragrance, which thou didst
lay upon my pillow, while this heart throbbed
with agony of pain upon it, fondly thinking their
sweetness would be a balm; and how thou wert
used to steal into my chamber and listen to tales
of this, the land of my home. Thou art here and
how hast thou been welcomed ? To a prison, and
well nigh unto death. But the poor soldier hath
a home; come thou and thy father and share it.
An hour ! who dare prophesy its events ? At
the beginning cf that hour the merchant and his
daughter had been sorrowful captives of a prison;
at its close they were the treasured guests of a
palace.
The Dignity cf Kan.
" It i.J a little thing to be a man " was the
expression of a pect, whose heart was embittered
by neglect, and crushed by misfortune. And
perhaps it is, to those who look upon him mcre-
' bccf-eatir.g and a coffee-driukinpr animal.
Mr?,-' .r. f t - est,on w 'atber to be preferred.
, r: wart, and a cultivated mind. Wk
ins ui,on man m Uusiiiht. he is trulv a er.afi.ro
of very little importance. Nothing could be said
more intere.ting or more to the point, than the
remark of the eld sergeant in Benlham : Give
him plenty to cat and send him to sleep."
" It is a little thing to he a man." And if so,
whence spring this IKtlencss ? What causes it?
If men arc but a race of erect brute's but no,
this is not the theory of human life', the sum of
human harphuss, the limit cf human regres
sion ! It is no a little thing to be a man. It is
not a little thing to possess a reflecting mind, a
feeling heart, an immortal soul. These gifts arc
great, and make men great. They are the ei
dowments of Heaven, and ally him to it. The
opposite doctrine traces his origin to the brutes,
and denies his natural superiority and immor
tality. It loses siht of his high duties and high
er de-stiaics. It degrades him at once to the
lowest level of auitnal existence.
Man's dignity does not consist in the fact tint
he is a being who eats, drinks, end sleeps. His
highest honor springs not from his love of roast
beef, sausages, dinner tables, and sumptuous
suppers. The highest style of man is not tl
cue who find his chief happiness in "creature
cair.forts" and plum puddings. There is a no
blcrlifo than the life of an e- icure or a gommaaj,
and theirs is a nobler death than that caused ly
ever indulgence, and a surfeit. "Who died mort
like a man, tlian Howard, the philanthropist,
who perished in ministering to the suffering cf
the iicetiy, or the great Roan Emperor, wlo
died from an excessive drinking of wine? There
is no necessity for a reply the one died in t.'ie
discharge of the most.indly ofuees to his fellow
men the other, " Lke tlie beasts which perish,"
The memory of the one is blessed the memory
of the other is unhonored if not execrated. It las
well been said that seme men are buried, and
fi-o:n their graves through the hands of minister
ing love, arise fragrant flowers, and clustering
boughs, which " smell sweet and blossom in the
dust." But there are others who arc deposited
iu their long home, and though no flower or
bjllgli mailia tK j-. CunliAn it .n-vcr
be, for there lies the record of a life ill siut, the
record of guilt, and the crown of crime sits si
lent and slmdowy on the tombstone.
The cultivation cf the mind, and the finer feel
ings cf our common nature are greater objects
than the gratification of appetite, or the accumu
lation of dollars. Even locking at man as he ex
ists in the present state of being, with no rtforpi
to the future, there are higher ts cf which he
is ca::able norjlcr aspirations which should
elevate his mind. There are his mental powers
to be cultivated, and his s cial affections to be
enlarged aud kindled into fresh life. And it is to
these that his chief happiness is linked, and in
these that his true dignity will be found. How
well it wculd be if some persons could only
be convinced that they hav minds and hearts.
j as well as apatites and purses. Lift up your
eves and look at the Heavens. crgci eiic inuigs
cf earth for a time, and contemplate the true, the
beautiful, and eternal. " Is there such a thing as
An immortal soul, " said Carlyhj to Leigh Hunt,
as thev walked under the brilliant splendor of the
starry heavens; and how eloquent and expressive
was the answer: " Look up, and find your an
swer there. " Home Gazette.
S3?-Mistrust the man who finds everything
good, the man who finds everything evil, and still
mora, tha Eftaa who is inoiaereat to every tiling
A Story vrilh a Kcrel.
Mr. Bones, of the firm of Fossil, Bones tCo.,
was one cf those remarkable money making men,
whose uninterrupted success in trade had been
the wonder, and afforded the material for the gos
sip of the town for seven long years. Being of
a familiar turn of mind he was frequently iiiterro-
gated on the subject, and invariab'.y gave as the
secret cf his success that he minded his own bu
siness. a gentleman met .Mr. isones on me Assanpinie
brla wftT irazins intently on the dashing,
foaming waters, as they fell over the dam; he was
evidently in a brown study. Our friend ventur
ed to disturb his cognitions.
" Mr. Bones, tell me how to make a thousand
dollars. "
Mr. Bones continued looking intently at the
water; at last he ventured a reply.
" Do you see that dam my friend? "
" I certainly do. "
".Well, here you may learn the secret of ma
king money. That water would waste away,
and be of no practicable use to anybody, but for
the dam. That dam turns it to good account,
makes it perform some ustful purpose, and then
suffers it to pass along. That large paper mill
is kept in constant motion y this simple econ
omy. Many mouths are f.J in the manufacture
of the article of paper, and intelligence is scatter
ed broadcast over the land on the .sheets that are
daily turned out, and in the d Ifereut processes
through which it passes money is made. So it
is in the living of hundreds e.f people. They get
enough of money, it passes through their hands
every day, and at the year's end they are no bet
ter off. What's the reason! They want a elam!
Their expanclitures are increasing, and no practi
cal good is attained. Tl.ey want them dammed
up, so that nothing will pass through their hand;
without bringing Fomething back without ac
complisliing some useful purpa;c. Du:u up your
expenses, and you will soon have occasion to spare
a little, just like that dam. Look at it, my
friend. Cazcite.
Aff33tinr Story cf a V.'if3.
We find the following in the police reports cf
the London papers, where others of a similar na
ture often occur: -A custom house tfljeer, named
Mears, doing duty in the Londcn Dock, saw a wo
man on a swivel bridge, leaningcvtrthe rails, with
head resting on her hand, and looking towards
the water. She was crying, and appeared to Le
in great trouble. The officer, suspecting her in
tention, asking her what she was "doing there;
but she refused to satisfy him, or give any ac
count of herself. Site then moved away, end a
bout ten minutes afterwards returned to the same
spot, and resumed her former altitude. The cus
torn officer called the attention e-f a police consta
ble to the woman, and he spoke to her. She
went away; but soon returned ufrain, and wos in
the act cf getting over the rails cf the bridge into
the entrance dock, wLichis there twenty f ur or
twenty six feet in depth, v. hen a boy seized her
dress, and held her susr.eiidtd ever the water un
til assistance was procured. If the woman had
got into the water, as she was nearly tloing, one
hundred men could not got her have got out alive.
When brought up before Mr. Ingham, the magis
trate, he asked the woman what account she
had to give of herself 1 Woman (abtiactcdly,
and with a vacant stare ) What is it, sir ?
What is it ? Mr. Ingham What Lave you to
say for yourself ? The woman (suddenly recol
lecting herself) Last night, fir, I was at home
with my four little chihhvn. with no food. I went
out. scarcely knowing what I did : but I had no
intention to throw mvse'fover the bridge. (Here
she sobbed loudly) Mr. Ingham said he would
remand the prisone-r to the House cf Detention
for a week, and she would be properly taken care
of. Inquiries must be made concerning aud her
means of obtaining a living. The pri.sior.er
What is to become of my poor children? Mr.
Ingham I wV.l issue orders for them to be prop
erly taken care of in the workhouse. The prison
er implored of the magistrate not to send her to
pnsion, and said she never had a key turned cn
her before. The mother of the prisoner here
stepped forward, and said she lived in the same
house with her daughter, who struggled hard to
mainta'n four young children, and had a very bad
father to them. Her daughter's husband was a
very drunken, brutal man, who had been in the
nraetico of befttirt" his wife. Mr. Incham then
why dia suv . Wc to comr)-iaia cf :cr
husband?" The doorsof this court arc always o
pen to receive complaints from women who are
maltreated by their husbands. The mother I
don't know, sir ; but, indeed, I can assure you,
my daughter works very hard. Mr. Inh".
think the best course will be tarrteT her to pris
oa fjra v-'cdl.-.ia she will have time to reflect;
ui let the parish officers take care cf the children
and feed them. The mother has a shop of work
slop work ) and will loose it if she is sent to pris
on ; she works early and late. Mr Ingham
Has she had relief from the parish ? The Moth
er Once only. Mr. Ingham Has her husband
struck her lately? Not within the last fortnight.
Mr. Ingham If he strikes her again, come here
for a warrant. Ifvouwill take charge cf her,
and protect her, I will let her go. - The mother
I will, sir. Mr. Ingham Then take he away
with you. The poor and apparently heart-bro
ken woman left the dock, crying loudly.
CyPoetry reveals to us tho loveliness cf nature
brings back the freshness of youthful feeling, re
vives tho relish of simple pleasures, keeps unqucn-
ched tha enthusiasm which warmed the spring
time of our being refines youthful love strengthens
our interest in human naiurw, by vivid delineation
of its tendercst and softest feelings, and through
tho brightness of its prophetic visions holpB faith
to lay hold on future hJo. C k annrg
The following from glorious genial Clarke
is too tempting. We must copy it for the benefit
of our readers who aro not fortunate enough to
read " Old Knick."
"Here they are again," the Little Folk and
hearty Christmas-welcome to t htm all ! "The
i more, the merrier !" If wc cannot provide for
them all at one time, we will endeavor to do it
at another. By the bye. it has been well said
by one who read the thoughts and open hearts of
children as one reads a book, that " grown per
sons are apt to put a lower estimate than is just
on tho understandings cf children. They rate
them by what they know, and children know very
little. But their capacity of comprenension is
great. Heiico the continual wonder of those who
aru unaccusiome-d to them, at " the old fashioned
ways " cf some lone little one who has no play
fe'lows, and at the odd mixture of folly and wis
dom in its sayings. A continual battle goes on
ia a child's miud, between what it knows and
what it comprehends. Its answers are foolish
from partial ignorance, and wise from extreme
quickness of apprehension. The great art of ed
ucation is so to train this last fuculty, as neither
to depress nor over exert it. But " let the child
ren come in," now :
A lady one day observed her little boy of some
six summers, who was phiying in the garden,
showing signs of anger : she said nothing, but he
soon came in, an! approaching her, said :
' Ma, elo the penologists say we have sweax-mg-j.ump
in our heads ?"
Ills methcr told him Bhe did not know of any:
when the little fellow remarked that his head
felt very queer, and he came near swearing : and
he added :
" Grand -pa has get a large bump on his head,
an J he swears awfully sometimes !"
A little girl had a beautiful head of hair, which
hung in " clustering curls" down in her neck.
One hot summer day, f he went up stairs, and
cut all tlu1 curl off. Coming down, she met her
mother, who cxclaiiy.ed, with surprise :
" Why, Mary ! what have you been doing to
your hair ?"
To v. hie-h she responded, that fche had cut it
off aud laid it away in her box, but that she in
tended to j ut it en egain to-morrow, as Aunt
Nancy did !"
" What dj j-ou learn at school ?" said I to my
little Loy, four year of age.
" Reading and spelling, Papa, if you please."
" And what do the other boys learn V
"Oh! 'li.hnie'.ic, aud 'gotrraphy, and Vtloc i
ycJe." " What ? velocipede ?"
"Yes, papa; but not about wooden horses,
but about other tiling ."
Now wht do you suppose he meant ? Phil
osophy !
" Papa !" said the same little urcliin to me,
when he was but three years old, and had just
Wgun to catch the phrases of older children it
was the pensive hour of twilight, and drawing
near his bed-time "Papa, will you make apray
er for me, before I go to bed ?
" Yes, my darling, if you whh it ; but why
not let your mamma say your prayers for you,
as she does on other nights ?"
0, papa, I don't want ycu to ay those pray
ers : Our Futher,' 4 Now I lay me ; but pray
yourself: tnaZe a prayer to God for me !"
So 1 put up, with all my heart, a serious pe
tition to hi Ihavenly Father, for - i:i..
lie listened attentively, and, as it teemed,
most seriously ; but, j'ost as I coucluded, he ex
claimed, with eyes sparkling with mirth :
Good, papa ! good ! Now pray again pray
atraln! Co it!"
" When I was in London," writes an esteem
ed and popular corrcs;ondent, " I became much
interested in a little Quaker boy, a child of re
markable intellect, but of a peculiar, quaint sim
plicity, as delicious as indescribable. His queer,
deep sr.yings used now to convulse me with
lauiihter. now melt me to tears. One of the an
ecdotes told me by his father is brief enough to
relate hrre, and may amuse you. When Char
he was about four years cf age, his grand-mother
died. She a stately and elegant womau ; the
very tyj of an English Quaker-lady. Charlie
had always betu accustomed to ee her in rich
silks, golden browns or silvery greys, with ker
chiefs f-costly muslin, and the most retherdie
of lissc caps ; and when he came to see her in
her bed dress, he eyed her with more curiosity
than sorrow. 1 nc goou oiu uj
and said, solemnly :
"Grand-mammust bid little Charlie good-
Z, ItT she is going away to Heaven, and will
never see him any more in this world.
Chailic, ia return, gave her alookef 6implc
astonishment, and exclaimed:
" Why, Graud-mamma, thou art not going up
to see God, in that night-cap, art thou ?
" Wc remember an anecdote of one of the
sweetest and most simple hearted of all our little
friends. Sitting on a foot-stool at her mother's
side, she had been recounting hci list of brothers,
sisters, uncles, aunts, cousins, and the hkts.
" Now," said she, " I have got all the relations
but one ; I should like a jooi-mtxn.tr. l navn i
got any, have I, Mother !"
It was the sad fate of this sweet child, in after
years, to perish ia that compound of calamity
and infatuation which the law decides to be no
crime tho burning of tho Henry Clay. She pas
sed from among us, radient in youth and good
ness, leaving four little children, ono an infant,
to prove the tender mercies of those that may
come after.
Vrr An organ in Williamsburg was not played
the other Sunday, cn account of having a new
,op whieh was put on by ta ahma.
Effects of Feicalo Facinaticn.
The control which a female sometimes exercise
over the judgment of a man appears to be not un
like that which inferior animals are said to cz
ert over each other. The power of the charmer
is almost irresistible. Petrarch, with Lis Laura
and Abclard, with his Helcise, are itgriP.canl
examples of this remark. The Paris correspon
dent of the New Orleans Crescent, in a recent lot
tcr, gives another illustrations of this masculica
weakness in the person of an old friend of tha
writer, whom Le had not met for many years.
He says: "It was not until we had been to
gether several days that I learned that the wo
man he had with him ww not his irift. She wi
a masculice creature, Trith nothing beautiful
about her save a pair of magnificent eye3, and
they were black as night. She had had a larga
mugiiziti dt nonrccrutis in the Rue Richaliea wher
she w ts supposed to be very wealthy, and wher
sbe had helped him run through tha major fart
of his fortune. When I first saw them, she ex
ercised over poor R. a land cf actual fascination.
He did not love her and yet ho could not shaka
her off he did not seem even to w ish it- Sha
watched him (I can use no other senile) exactly
as a cat watches a mouse. That she loved hjca
there could be no doubt ; but ber aOection had a
dash of ferocity in it. something like that cf a ti
gress towards her w helps. Finally, after endor
sing her paper to tho tune of 50,000 francs, ha
suddenly left the country, (tOt-t out of her reach
I suppose,) and no cue knew of bis whereabout
for two years. At the ted of that period his mis
tress got wind cf his hiding place, and one fin
morning, leaving her business iu the Lands of a
clerk, she packed up her fig leaves, stepped across
the ocean, and found her recreant lover engaged
ia successful mercantile operations in the city of
Panama. There the same routine of rsckless ex
travagance was run through with again, mora
madly than ever. But it seems she grew jealous
of him, (tK gentle tigress !) aid so took it into
her head to poison him, which she did wih a hg
dose of arsenic. But his iron constitution got,
however, the better ef the drug, and they wert
returning together when I first enccuntcrid them
The rest of the btcry is soon tela. 1 had a curi
osity to walk down and see her store. I found it
all closed up, and the words " to k-t" painted in
stsrinj capitals upon the shutters. She was ar
rested and thrown into prison for debt iromedi
a'ely upon her arrival in Paris, and he, tocscapa
the same fate, assumed the garb of a Maltese sai
lor ; and the last I saw of him was late at night,
in one of the " hotels meub'.cs " of the Quarticr
Latin, where I left him surrouLded by an admir
ing audience, singing French sor.S of doubtful
morality.
The Elaidea and tho Hero.
On the night of the battle of Brandy wica, 1
was sent with a message lrom General Green t4
Count Pulaski, a noble Polander, w ho took a
prcminent part in our freedom. He was quar
tered in a next farm house, near the upper forts.
After our business was finished, the Count asked
me to take some refreshments, and at the sama
time he called out
" Mary, my lass. Mary ! "
In an instant a rosy-cheeked girl entered, hef
face beaming with joy, it would seem, at the very
sound of Pulaski's voice.
" Did you call me, Count? " said she timidly.
" How Aen have 1 told you, my little love,
he said, bcuding Ins tall ferm -: 1 - -
- ..ok io eau me Count; call nie your dear Pulas
ki. This is a republic, my little favorite. W
have no Counts, you know. "
" But you arc a Count, sir, when at home, and
they say you come a long way over the ocean to
fight for us. "
" Yes, Mary, very true, I did come a long wsy;
the reason why, was, I kid to come, in a measure.
Now can you get for this gentleman and rayfclf
a little refreshment ? lie has a long y to rid
to night. " (
"Certainly, sir," and she went cut of ta
room like a fairy.
" Fine pleasant irl, " said Pulaiki, would
that I had the weal.h that I once hal, I would
givcLcr a portion that would send half the youti
hereabout after her sweet face. "
On the morning cf the eleventh of September,
1777 tho Brittish army advanced in full force to
Chadd's Ford, for the purpose of crossing ths
Erandywine Creek, and bring on an action ".
Washington. Sir William llo Maxwell l
d.vision across the ci '.jy-tcu o'clock, at o;
of the low7 n-rJs.
" - r.nmi 1ftiV)iitej. with
large force advancing i-p the siuc ei tiic ciuk
uniting with Lord Coruwalhs, who commanded
tho left wing of the army, crossed at the tiprer
fords of the river ar.d creek.
It soon happened that during the raging of
conflict, in carrying orders I passed immediac y
in the direction of Pulaski's quarters that I h
visited the night before, Sjuddcnly a aheet -t
flame burst forth- The house was on fire. Ncs:
the doorstep lay the body of Mary, her heal c:i,
open by a sabre, and her brains oozing out of tLs
terrible wound ! I had not been there but half a
minute, w lxn Pulaski at the head cf a troop ef
cavalry galloped to the house. Never shall I -
get the expression orhis face, as lie sbou: w.
a demon on seeing the iranimalo form.
Who did this ? "
A little boy that l ad not been before noticr..
who was lying amid the grass, his leg dreadfv ;
mangled, said:
" There they go :
He pointed to a company of UcMialu then ao
distance off.
Richt wheel, men, charge ! "
And they did charge: I do not tblnfc that ru
man of the Hessian corps ever left the tia-a exce
to be rlaccd in the crave.
The last I saw of Pulaaki mm
ground cf Brrodywioa.
r