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IVIIOLE No. 165.1
TERMS
OF THE
771\7111\701:D0N ZO7.7I'.I\TAL.
'1
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THE GARLAND•
-"With sweetest flowers enrich'd
From various gardens cull'd with care."
From Blackwood's Magazine,
Michand, in' his description of an Egyp
tian funeral procession, which he met on his
way to the cementary of Rosetta, says—
" The procession we saw pass, stopped be
fore certain houses, and sometimes receded
a few steps. I was told that the dead stop
ped thus before the doors of their triends, to
bid them n last farewell, and before those of
their enemies to effect a reconciliation be
fore they parted forever."
THE L - AST JOURNEY.
Slowly, with measured trend,
Onward we bear the dead
To his long home:
Short grows the homeward road,
On which your mortal load,
0, grave! we come.
Yet, yet—ah! hasten not
Bear not the form We love
Fast from our sight—
Let the air breath on him,
And the sun beam on him,
Last looks of light.
Rest ye, set down the bier,
One he loved dwelleth here.
Let the dead lie,
A moment that door beside
Wont to fly open wide
Ere he drew nigh •
Hearken!—he speaketh yet—
Oh friend! wilt thou forget,
(Friend more than brother!)
How hand in hand we've gone',
'Heart with heart linked in one—
MI to each other?
“Oh, friend! I go from thee,
Where the worm fasteth free,
Darkly to dwell;
Oiv'st thou no parting kiss?
Pviend! is it come to this?
Oh, friend, farewell!"
TTplift your load again,
'rake up the mourning strain!
Pour the deep wail!
Lo! the expected one
To his place he passeth on—
Grave! bid him hail.
Here dwells his mortal foe,
Lay the departed low,
Even at his gate.
Will the dead sink again?
Uttering proud boasts and vain,
Last words of hate.
T.o! the cold lips unclose:
List, list, what sounds are those,
. . _ _
Plaintive and low?
"Oh, thou, mine enemy.
Come forth and look on me,
Ere hence Igo.
"Curse not thy foeman now,
Mark on his palid brow
Whose seal is set,
Pardoning I pass'd this way—
Then wage not war with clay;
Pardon—forget !"
Now, now his labor's done!
Now, now the goal is won;
Oh, grave! Re come;
Seal up this precious dust,
Land of the good and just,
Take the soul home.
MISCELLANEOUS,
ESTELLE;
OR, "A REFORMED RARE MARES THE
BEST HUSBAND," ILLUSTRATED.
"Well sister," said Estelle, on the mor.
ning of her wedding day, "in a few hours''
I shall be wedded to Morris. lam going
to try the fearful experiment, as you are
pleased to call it. If he proves to be a
good husband, I shall have the satisfaction
of triumphing over you; it he does not,
my sad history will then serve as a bea
con-light to warn others, not to shipwreck
their happiness in the same manner; so
yOU see I shall do my fair friends a ser
vice in this way, it no other.
Louise sighed as she saw her bright and
happy sister so unconsciously sacrificing
herself; but she only remarked that a few
years would decide the question.
In a few weeks Morris and his wife
were settled in New York. For two
years all was well with Estelle. Mor•
ris was apparently a reformed man, and
even Louise began to think that her fears
would not be realized. His cveninss
were spent in the society of his wife, and
he began to feel a relish for domestic
pleasure. At this period, one of his as
sociates, who had just returned from a
tour of Europe, called to revive old
friendship.
"Well, Fred," said he familiarly, "I
admit your wife and your situation, and
even your little babe looks like a cherub;
but faith friend, you don't intend to bury
yourself here, do you? How fare our old
friends, P. and M.? You meet at our old
haunts, I presume?" .
"Indeed, I have not been there of late
neither have I seen our old friends but
once or twice for these two years."
"Well, then, we will go and hunt them
up this evening."
That was a long evening for Estelle.
The clock told the midnight hour before
Morris returned, and when he saw her
anxious countenance, his heart smote him
but with a slight excuse, he quieted the
fears of his too-confiding wife. From
that evening must be dated the downfall
of Morris. Estelle was too conscions of
the change in her husband; but she ut
tered not a word of reproach.
"A cloud, slowly and heavily came o'er her:
a cloud
Of ills we mention not; enough to say
'Twas cold and clad in impenatrable gloom
She saw its dark approach, and:saw her
hopes;
One after one, put on as nearer still
It drew upon her soul;
_but fainted not at
first—
Fainted not soon:"
One night, as her husband returned
home unusually late, Estelle etas struck
with his haggard look and almost maniac
laugh, whan he roughly said: " Well Es
telle, now we are off for the west—l am'
worth barely enough to buy us a log hut,
and we aull go and hide ourselves in the
prairies of Illinois. That
Knowles has done the business for me to
night. Oh! I wish I had shot him!" &
he gnashed his teeth in his rage. Estel
le was shocked, confounded and crushed;
but she questioned him not, nor of
one word of expostulation. With a sail
heart, she packed her things, and in a
week they were on their way to Illinois.
Here, years of constant suffering awaited
Estelle. Her friends, hearing of her des
titute situation, sent her pecuniary aid;
but what 'could bind up the wounds of
that broken heart? Who could gather
up those young affections again?
'When thus site lay,
Forlorn of heart; withered and desolate
As leaf of autumn, which the wolfish winds.
Selecting from its falling sisters, chase
Far from its native grove, to lifeless wastes
Eternally. God passed in mercy by,
His praise be ever new! and on her breath'd
And bade her live."
**M•*• a a * ♦ • *
"Oh, ma, how I wish you had been at
the meeting to-day; we had a new minis.
ter. Ile looks so much like the miniature
you have of uncle William, I wish you
could see him. Old Margaret says he is
to be our minister for a few months, till
Mr. Gray has returned from his journey:
for ma, he has gone to the east, to bring
his wife and children here."
"ONE COUNTRY, ONE CONSTITUTION, ONE DESTINY•"
A. W. BENEDICT PUBL I SHER AND PROPRIETOR.
HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA, WEDNESDAY DECEMBER 12, 1838
"Well, Louise, did you tell him you had
a dying mother who wished to see him?'"
"Ma, he was a stranger, and I dared
not speck to him, but I asked old Marga
ret's husband to do it, and he is coming
her to-morrow."
"Mother," said the same sweet-faced
little girl next morning, "the minister is
at the door, and wisned to know if I am
the little girl whose n other wishes to see
him; and there is another gentleman with
him."
"Ask them iii," said a feeble voice.
Estelle, unaccustomed to the sight of
sti angers, was abashed when the two gen
tlemen entered her hut; but a slight flush
came to her colerless face, as she eyed the
stranger who first entered, and thought
she had seen one who resembled him--
but before she had time for farther scru
tiny, she found herself enclosed in the
arms of her only brother. Neither could
speak, but gushing tears more than words
relieved their full hearts; but as she rec
ognised the other stranger, who was no
other than Edward Barnes, she swooned.
William, dear William, have you
come at length?" sobbed Estelle; "come
to see your sister die; come to soothe her
dying hours; come to father my loved
Louise ? God has indeed answered my
prayers! 0, William, it was a fearful cx
periment, but it is all over!"
?Mani Lawrence was at college at
the time of his sister's marriage, and was
subsequently fitted for the ministry. He
resolved, as soon as his studies were fin
ished, to go, and take his sister back to
her native village. But while he was
preparing to start, news came that Estel
le was no more, and that Morris was to
sing about, an object of commisseration
and disgust. Still he longed to go and
learn more of his sistee's fate, and to take
the little Louise home. his friend Ed
ward Barnes accompanied him, with th e
view of settling in the west. They had
stopped to spend the Sabbath at a village
about a mile from Estelle's house, entire
ly unconscious of their affinity to her.
Finding the minister of the place absent,
lie propopused to preach the following
day, which was gladly accepted. On
Sur.day morning a little band collected
in a building used as a church. Estelle
had always met with this little band, but
feeling her strength rapidly declining; she
sent her little daughter to request the
minister to visit ;her soon. The little
Louise had her eyes riveted upon the
preacher during all the service; and as
he passed her, she tried to summon cour
age to do her errand, but her heart 'failed.
The next morning, William and his
friend started for Estelle's abode, and on
their way met an old man who made the
request, they asked to be directed to her
hut. But what was their surprise on
hearing from the old man such an account
of her, as induced them to believe that it
was indeed their friend (over whose sup
posed death they had often wept) they
were now called to visit. They learned
also, that Morris had, some months pre
vious, in a fit of intoxication, committed
suicide; and for nearly a year, that poor,
destitute woman had lived with her lit
tle daughter in extreme poverty. Wil
liam tried to soothe her with the hope
that she yet would be happy; that she
would return with him, and in the midst
of former friends, forget all her trials.
But it was over with Estelle—Death had
marked her for his victim. Crushed and
broken hearted, she was even now on
the shores of eternity "And even
brother ," she would say, "were I able
to endure the journey. I could never en
dure the sight of my old home--of my
injured sister. Oh, why did I not listen
to her kind advice? No, brother, here I
must die But even that thouk lit has
lost half fits gloom, since I know that
my Louise is provided with a home and
friends."
"Will you allow me to adopt your
child as my own?" said Edward B.
Estelle hesitated . It was the man
whom she had injured. "I should rail
cr ," said she, ..that she would be under
the tuition of her aunt Louise.
"Then will your wish to be gratified,'
said William "Louise is the wife of Ed.
ward Barnes—and you cannot confide
your child to any with more assurance
that she will receive all a mother's care
and instruction ."
The color went and came in poor Es
telle's cheek at this intelligence; but
after a moments struggle with her fee
lings, she said, is as it should be; I
dashed the cup of happiness from my lips,
and I have been made to drink the cup of
affliction to the very dregs.
In a week from this time, Estelle Mor
ris was a dweller in eternity. But she
died not without hope. Her sufferings
had led her to the fountain of consola—
tion—a Saviour's love—and she realized
the fulfilment of the promise, "A brhised
reed will lie not break."
* *
In one of the neatest house in the vil
lage of N—is seen a levelly girl who
often with a look of sadness says, "Uncle
Edward, how I wish my dear ma had lived
to come here. Why did you not find us
sooner I I wonder if you arc the same
Edward Barnes that I have heard pa talk
aboutl He told ma he supposed that she
wished she had married Edward Barnes
instead of him, and with a dreadful oath
he left the house, saying that he would
not be in the way any longer; and he
never did come back—hut the next day
four men brought him home. Oh, Uncle,
I ca'inot tell you--it makes me tremble
to think of it. Poor ins, was so ill that
I thought she would have died, and that
I should be left all alone!"
Edward Barnes could not refrain from
mingling his tears with those of his lit
tle niece—nor can you lair readers—with
hold your sympathy. But let none say
or think, that, "a reformed rake makes
,the best husband,"
J EXJO 1' .1.1 D Tlll
Ira .TCII.
In somc of the country parts of Scot
land, a custom prevails of young men gi
ving their watches in trust to young wo
man for whom they have declared thei r
attachment. The watch is kept and car
ried in the bosom of their fair one, until
the anxious couple are united in the bands
of wedlock, when, as a matter of course,
the pledge of sincerity is delivered up to
its original owner. This is imagined by
country lasses to be an indefinitely bet
' ter plan for securing the fidelity of a
sweet-heart, than that of breaking a six
pence. A watch is a valuable and hog! ly
Prized article. It is worth at least a cou
ple of pounds; and the loss of that sum by
an individual in a humble condition of
life, is a very serious matter. Still, we
believe there are cases in which the pro
posed matchis abandoned forever; though
doubtless this is only in cases of great
fickleness, or when weighty reasons for
desertion intervene.
The following laughable incident regar •
ding a watch so entrusted, occurred a
few years ago. Jenny Symington, a well
favored sprightly girl in a certain farm
house in Galloway, had been entrusted
with the watch for her sweet heart, Tam
Holliday, a neighboring shepherd, and
which she carried with scrupulous care in
her bosom; hut even the most careful kept
articles will sometimes disappesr, in spite
of all the precautions considered neces
sary to preserve them. Jenny, be it
known, was esteemed a first rate hand at
preparing potatoes for the family supper;
none could excel her in serving them up,
bested and mashed in a most tempting
style. On one occasion. in harvest, when
the kitchen was crowded with a number
of shearers waiting for their evening meal,
and while Jenny was busy beating a mess
of potatoes, what (lid the unlucky watch
do, but drop from her bosom, chain, seals,
and all, into the pot among the potatoes;
'Jenny's head being turned away at the
' moment, she new nothing of the disaster,
and therefore continued to beat on and on
at her task. She certainly was a little
surprised when she felt there was still a
hard potatoe to beat, notwithstanding her
previous diligence but thinking nothing of
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• it, she continued to beat, occasionally gi
ving the hard potatoe alias the watch, a
good thump with the end of the bettle.---
At length she thought she had fairly
completed the business; and so infusing a
large jar of sweet milk into the mess, she
stirred all together and placed the vessel
ready for the attack of the hungry onion
kers,
Behold then the plot —a round gawsy
tripod--planted in the middle of the floor.,
A circle was formed around it in a trice,
and horn for horn the shearers began to
stretch and strive. Many mouthfuls had
not been taken, before certain queer looks
begin to be manifested. "Devil's in the
taffies," says one, "I think they've gut
banes in them"—"Banes!" says another,
'•they're the funniest banes ever I sass
they're made o' broken glass and pieces
o' brass; I'll sup na mair o' them! "--with
that, another produced a silver watch
case, all battered and useless from his ca
pacious horn spoon and a universal
strike among the suppers, immediately
ensued. It was clear that a watch had
been beaten up with the potatoes: so the
good wife had nothing for it but to order
the disgraced pot out of the way, and to
place a basket of oatmeal cakes in its
stead.
What were poor Jenny's feelings du
ring this strange denouement? On the
first appearance of the fragments of the
watch, she slipped her hand to her bosom,
and soon found how matters stood. She
had the fortitude, however, to show no
sytnptoms of surprise; and although every
one was wondering where the broken
watch had come from, she did not disclose
her knowledge of how it had found its way
into the pot. As it had belonged to no
, one in the house, the materials were not
identified; and as Jenny was a young wo. ;
Iman of great prudence end modes! y, and
had never shown any one that she had al
watch in her possession, no one teased
her about it. In a short time the noise of
the circumstances had died away, but not
till it had gone over the neighborhood, that
the family had found a watch in the pota.
foe pot; and among others it came to the
ears of the owner, Tam Holliday, who
was highly pleased with the conduct o
his beloved Jenny; for he thought that if
she had cried or sobbed, and told to whom
the watch belonged, it would have brought
• ridicule on them both. Tam was, in short,
delighted with the way the matter had
been managed, and he thought the watch
was well lost ; though it had been ten
times the value,
Whatever Tani's ideas were on the
subject, Jenny felt conscious that it was
her duty to replace the watch. Accor
dingly, next time she met her lover, she
allowed no time to elapse bofore she thus
addressed him:
"Nov, Tam, ye ken very wed how I
have demolished your good silver watch,
but it is needless to regret what cannot
be helped. I shall pay yon for it, every
farthing. The one half I will give you
when I get my hallyear's wages at Mar.
ti'mas, and the other half soon, as my
brother is aw'n me three pounds, which he
has promised to pay me afore the next
Eastern's e'en lair." "My dear Jenny,"
said the young man, taking her kindly by
the hand, "I beg you will say nothing
about that ridiculous affair. I do not
care a farthing for the loss of the watch;
mair be token, I have gotten a rise in my
wages !frae the new laird; for I mutt tell
ye, I'm now appointed chief herd in the
Ca's Hope. llowever, to take any pay,
ment from you, to rob you of your hard
won penny-fee, would be disgraceful. No
no, I will take none of your• wages; but
there is one thing I will take, if you are
w illi ng , an d which; I hope, will make us
baith happy for life," "And what may!
that be, Tam, now that ye're turned
grand head shephard?" "I will take,"
said he, "yourself: but mind I do not ask
you as a recompense for a paltry watch;
no, in my eyes, your worth is beyond all
estimation. If you will but agree to be
mine, let it be done freely; but whether
you are married or not, from this time
henceforth, the watch is never to be spo•
ken of."
[ Vol.. IV, No. 0.
What followed may be easily imagined
'Pam and Jenny was married as soon as*
the plenishing for the cottage at the Ca's
Hope could be prepared; and at the wed
ding the story of the watch and the pots
toe pot was made the topic of moth
hearty mirth among the assembled com
pany. The last time we visited Jenny's
cottage we reminded her of the transac
tion. "Hosts" said she, "that's an old
story now: the laird has been so wed plea
sed we the gudeman that he has gien him
a present o' that eight day clock there; it
cost eight pounds in Jamie Lockie's, at
the east port o' Dumfries, and there's no' .
the like in a' the parish."
PENN'A. LEGISLATURE
From the liar. Inleligencer. Extra. Dec. 5
110 USE OF REIPRESEX
LITIPE
Yesterday was a day of intense excite
ment and witnessed scenes truly disgrace
ful to the Commonwealth. We shall at
tempt a faithful sketch.
At an early hour the Representative
Ilall iwas crowded with members elect
and spectators to the number of several
hundred. It teas manifest that scenes
new in our history would be enacted.—
Philadelphia county seemed to have fur
nished a goodly number of actors for the
occasion, and sent them to Hari isburg.
But our friends, the Democrats, like their
fathers of old at the Boston tea-party, be
haved with admirable coolness and firm.
ness, determined to "ask nothing but
what is clearly right, and submit to noth-
ing wrong,"
It was given out that at eleven A. M.,
the House would convene. A few mo
ments before the hour, Mr. Hill, of West
: moreland, a Loco Foco, made a few re
marks of a mild character, insisting on
the spectators in the gallery to preserve
order, and at 11 precisely he called the
House to order, by moving that the Clerk
of the former session, (Mr. F. R. Shuck,)
act as Clerk in organizing, which was
agreed to. The Secretary of the Com,
monwealth was then introduced, and pre ,
sented, according to law, the sealed re
' turns which had been placed in his office.
The Clerk then proceeded to open the
packet and break the seals, when he read
the returns from the city of Philadelphia,
He next took the returns from the county
of Philadelphia, and was preparing to
read the legal returns, when Mr. Pray,
who claims a seat from the county, moved
that the reading of the returns furnished
by the Secretary be, dispensed with and
presented another return, which he said
was attested by the hand and seal of Pro
thonotary, and was therefore the proper
one, and moved it to be read.
Mr. T. S. Smith of the city, 'protested
earnestly against receiving the returns of
Mr. Pray, insisting that the Secretary of
the commonwealth is the only legal than.
net through which a return can reach the
House, and that no vote or decision on
the legality of any paper could be had till
the House was organized the members
from the city being the only ones whom
we yet know officially to be members.
Mr. M'Elwee, of Bedford, then arose
and in his usual style harrangued the adi
ence in the galleries, dealing largely in
invective agaimt the Secretary. He was
after some time, cnecked by Mr Shunk
and Mr. Pray, when Mr. Hopkins of
Washington. moved that both returns be
read. No vote was taken on this motion
but the clerk was allowed to proceed
with the reading of both.
The Clerk then went on to reading the
returns
. frotn the other counties of the
commonwealth, which he did without any
interruption.
Mr, Stevens then rose and said, that
as there would doubtless be difficulty in
settling the vexed question, the members
differing in their opinion as to the wode of
settlement, he would make a preposition
to all those who were disposed to proceed
according to law, and who believed th e
Secretary of the Commonwealth to be the
only officer oc individual, authorised by
the Constitution and laws to present re •
turns to the House. And he hoped that