VoL. VI, No. 51.]
T2BRICS
or TUX
HUNTINGDON JOURNAL.
The " JoURNAL" will be published everY
Wednesday morning, at two dollars a year,
u` paid IN ADVANCE, and if not paid with
in six months, two dollars and a hall.
Every perso'n who obtains five subscribers,
and forwards price of subscription, shall be
furnished with a sixth copy gratuitously for
.me year.
No subscription received for a less period
than six months, nor any paper disconthmed
until all arrearages are paid.
communications must be addressed
to tho Editor, POST PAID, or they will not
be attended to.
Advertisements not exceeding one scpare,
will he inserted three times for one dollar,
and for every subsequent insertion, twenty
five cents per square will be chlrged. Ifno
definite orders are given as to the time an
advertisement is to be continued, it will be
!opt in till ordered out, and charged accor•
dingly.
AGENTS
The MarttU►ag'doia Journal
Daniel Teague, Orbisonia; David Blair'
Esq. Shade Gap; Benjamin Lease. Shirleye
burs; Eliel Smith, Esq. Chileottstootin; Jas.
Entriken. jr. C'effee Run; Hugh Wade.
Esq. Sfiringfield; Dr. S. S. Dewr , , Rir
nangham; James Morrow. Union Furnace ;
John Sister. Warrior Mark; James Davis,
Esq. West toronshifi ;D.H. M. . E.c;
Frankstown; Eph. Galbreath: Esq. HOU
daysburg; Henry Neff. Alexandria; S
Burns, Williamsburg; A. J. Stewart, Warr
Street; Wm. Reed, Esq. hfo , ris toemxhih;
Solomon Homer, Arra Mill; Lint, —,rt,
Mouth &mare C reek; Wm. M a rr,, , Esq.
Graysville; John Crum. Manor Hill; Jas.
E. Stewart. Sinking Valley; L. C. Kcss!,
Mill Creek.
.9SSIGA T EES' NOTICE
vivHEREAS William Pollock, of Vl'in
chester Furnace, Cromwell town
ship, Huntingdon county, has as
signed all his property, real, personal and
mixed, to the subscribers in trust for the
benefit of his creditors. All pees ms k now,,_
ing themselves indebted to the said William
Pollock, are hereby notified and regtiii ed
to come forward and make p-yment un be
forelthe 10th day of January next. Those
neglecting this notice will find their accounts
&c. left in the hands of an officer for collec
tion. And all persons having unsettled
counts with the said William Pollock, are
desired to call with the subscribers imme
diately, ffir the purpose of winking settle
ment. The books of said Pollock will be
left at Winchester Curnace for settlement;
and the suhscri'sers will he fund at that
place on Thursday and Friday of each week
Until the time above mentioned.
D BURKET , ? Ainigness
WM. B. LEAS,of
AIM. LONG. . Wm. Pollock.
Dee, 8, 1841.
Auditor's Notice To Creditors,
THE undersigned, appointed an Audi-1
tor by the court of common piers of
Huntingdon county to appropriate
the proceeds of the sales by Joseph Shannon
late sherifi of said county, of the personal
property of Abraham (, I
and either Crain
rtte a m nd a C n i cl r a i
ti
so to appropriate the proceeds of the sales'
by the same of the joint and separate re-a ,
estate of the said Abraham and Christian
t Crain, hereby appoints Monday tile 27th.
of December 1841, at the office of Bell & Or
bison in thebnrough of Huntingdon, for the
doing . of the same; when and where all per
sona intere:ted are required to make their
claims on the proceeds of said sales or funds
before me as such Auditor, or theredter be
debarred from coming in upon the same.
JACOB MILLER.
Huntingdon, December 1. 1841.
Auditor's Notice,
ALL persons interested will take notice
that the undersigned Auditor. ap
pointed by the court of comm.,o pleas
of Huntingdon county, to eppropriate the
proceeds of the sale of the real estate of the
devices of Francis Sample clec'd, in the
hands of Joseph Shannon late Sheriff, hereto
fore adjuked to said devisees, and to ascer
tain what amount if any, shall be paid to
the lien creditors of said devisees cr their
heirs, and to others, will attend for that pur.
pose at thefoffice of Bell & Orbison in the bo.
rough of Huntingdon on Friday the 24th oh
December 1841, when a d where all per
sons interested are required to make their
claims before me as such auditor, on the said
proceeds or funds, or be debarred frpm co
suing in upon the same.
GEO. TAYLOR.
• Huntingdon Dec, 1, 1841.
Auditor's Notice to Creditors.
ALL persons interested will take notice
that the undersigned apppointtd an
Auditor, by the court of common
pleas of Huntingdon county, to appropriate
0 the proceeds of the real estate of John M'-
C loskey. in the hands of Joseph Shannon late
sheriff, will attend for that purpose at the
office of Bell and Orbison in the borough of
Huntingdon, on Monday the 27th of Decem
,ber 11141; when and where all - persons inter
wasted are required to make their claims be
fore me as such Auditor, upon the mid pro
ceeds or funds, or be debarred front romkg
in upon the same.
JACOB MILLER.
Huntingdon, Dec. 1, 1841.
DR. M. A. HENDERSON!
Having located himself in Hum M 0.., Ty
spectfully offers his professional to•rvices to
the citizens of the town and vicinity. He
may be found at the Office of his father, Dr.
John Henderson, one door west of the new
Court House.
Huntingdon, Dec, 1, 1841. ltp
THE JOURNAL.
HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA, WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1841.
ALL persons interested will take notice
that the undersigned Auditor appoin
ted by the Orphans' Court of Hun
tingdon county, to ascertain the loins against
the real estate of Geo Otenkirk decd in. the
hands of his heirs, and report the nature and
amount of the same, will attend at the ioffice
of Bell & Orhison in the borough of Hun
tingdon for that purpose on Monday the 27 , 11
f December 1841 when and where all per
sons interest d are requited to make their
claims hef ire me on the said estate or the
proc,ds th, roof, or be debarred from com
ing in upon the same.
JACOB MILEER,
! Huntingdon, Dec. 1, 1841.
la the name of the real estate of Richard
&atop, late if Barree township deed.
9111 HE undersigned, appointed an Audi
-IL for by the Orphans' Court of Hun
tingdon county, to ascertain and report
the true situation of said estate, showing
who are the parties interested, and to
what extent, and the nature and amount
of the liens affecting the interests of the
several parties, will meet at the office of
Bell and Orbison, in the borough of Hun
tingdon, on Tuesday the 28th of Decem
ber 1841. to act in the premises.
JACOB MILLER, Auditor.
Dec. 1, 1841.
ORPHANS' COURT ,SALE
IN num..ince of a an order of the Or-
Huntinedon county will
N.. +4r, , ' by public vendue or
out,-
Snler•dml qt!. lay of December 1841
o,e P 1. al estate, late the
p , ...perty (le . I), okirk dec.'cl., to wit:
"A certain Lot ~f ±...yound situate in the town
f Roxbery in said c•anity, containing
One Acre,
ljuininr lmnd of P nn the north
west, and un the other side a lot of---
Terms of Sald:
One third f the purchase money to be
paid on the cnntirmation of the sale, one
third thereof in one year thereafter with in
terest, and the remainine third part, at the
death of Catherine 0 tenkirk widow of said
deceased; the purchaser pavine to the said'
widow, annually, amine her life the lawful
interest of the said third part, the whole to
be serured be the bonds and mortgage of the
purchaser. Certified by
JOHN REED. Clk.
Attendance•will be given by the undersign
cd aeministrator.
GEO. OTENKLIK.
n•r 1 18.11,
TEMPERANCE SONG.
Tusz—"Star-Spangled Banner."
OIL say can you see, by the "signs of
the times,"
That men are reforming, themselves set-
ting free
From's.ll that destroys their bodies and
minds,
Resolving to plant a new liberty tree,
Their condition no more
They lament and deplore,
Their bandage is broken.
Their thraldom is o'er;
For the Temperance Banner
In triumph doth wave,
O'er the heads of the rescued,
Free sons of the brave.
In the past, dimly seen thio' the midst of
their tears',
In the sorrow, and anguish, and pain, they
have suffered,
The sail loss of all that to manhood is
dear—
The time when none kindness or sympa
thy offered.
But the trial has past,
Thoagli long did it last,
And their chains & theft. bondage
Far from them thy've cast;
Arid the Temperance Banner
In triumph cloth wave,
O'er the heads of the rescued,
Free sons of the brave.
Oh,where is tie promise that .81cohol gave,
To place his poor victim 'hove sorrow and
anguish;
Of all his false hopes, not one now re-
mains,
And his many fair dreams, all, all are now
banished.
His promise was air,
And false was as fair,
And again them to offer
He never will dare,
While the Temperance Banner
In triumph loth wave,
O'er the heads of the rescued
Free sons of the brave.
Thus be it ever, while the reform'd shall
stand,
Between hiw dread foe, and his heart's
desolation;
Thu. happy and free may the now rescu
ed band
Bless the power that brought them again
to their station.
And coiitpier we must,
For our cause is most just;
Atitl this be our motto—
"ln Goo let. us trust;"
And the Temperance Banner
For ever will wave,
O'er the heads of the free,
And the homes of the brave.
"ONE COUNTILY, ONE CONSTITUTION, ONE DESTINY."
A. W. BENIIDICT PUBLISHER AND PROPRIETOR.
An incident oftlae Revolution.
BY Mae. ANN S. STEMENB.
The morning dawned on the unfortu
nate Hale's confinement, just as he had
committed to paper and secured the in
formation he had forfeited nis life to ob
tain. He knew that he gazed on the
blessed sun fin the last time. He felt
that in a few short hours a portion of the
beautiful earth, now spread but so glori
ously, would be lying a cold mass upon his
bosom. He knew this, and his heart
crumbled like a diseased thing within him.
He thought of his parents in their bereav
ed loneliness, of his betrothed in her brok,
en hearted grief, and again it expanded
with sorrowing tenderness. He was as
brave a man as ever confronted death,
still he thou *ht it was a fearful thing to
yield up his life, its young hopes, to en
, ter into the unknown boundlessness of
eternity, with a few hours preparation.
Ile asked for the company of a clergyman
but none came, fur a Bible but none was
procured. Ile knelt down on his last
prayer, and the outpouring of his soul
was broken in upon by those who came to
conduct him to do- gallows tree. Ile went
forth to his execution, not seeking man's
applause on the very brink of eternity, by
a false bravado, against nature, rushing,
with his proud soul cased in pride, up to
the very presence of the Most High, over
cooling nature's just fears, and challeng
ing after ages to admire the boldness with
which his ambitious soul could pass the
awful face of God.—There was no such
presumption in Hale's death. Witb a full
and z.utemn sense of the awful event, he
went to meet his death as a christain—a
soldier. His soul was bowed in humility
to God, and his last words were, Oh
that I had more lives to offer up fur my
countryi"
It was a splendid scene ; the dinner
table of the English commander. From
his own laud of luxury he had imported
the massive plate and delicate china that
crvered it, loaded profusely with viands.
British gold had purchased the toy far
mer's cutlery, goblets sparkled with wine
like "molten rubies of liquid amber," and
brimed to the lips of the gay young offi
cers, who in their glittering uniforms, sur
rounding by song and wine, revelling on
the brink of intoxication. Loud rose their
voices of merriment in gleeful chorus,
when a servant entered with the inform:-
, tioa that a female had arrived at their
camp with a flag et truce, and demanded
an interview with General //owe.
A haughty smile curled the English
mxn'; lip, as he addressed au Aul•de
camp.
" Who is this, think you ? the rebels
must be in extremities, when they send us
women instead of ambassadors."
The Aid-de-camp answered his Gener•
al's smile, and demanded of the servant
if the lady were young nr old ?
"You ng,"sir."
"And pretty 1" asked a dozen voices at
once.
"Rather pale, your honors."
"Young and interestin t ; ; our gallantry
is bestiring itself," exclaimed some of the
same voices• General pray admit
her 1"
Most of the young officers were on their
feet, and all eyes were turned to the en
trance, as Sarah Easton advanced—her
deep mourning rendered her pale features
almost ghastly, and her crape veil thrown
back so as to display her white forehead
and eyes touchingly sweet in their expres
sion, even while resting on the form of
him who made her heart desolate- Nut a
word was spoken by the group that sur
rounded the dinner table; the merry smile
was quenched on the lips of each gay in
dividual as he looked on the young Amer
ican, who stood before them in the beati
tilul majesty of her grief. Howe advanc
ed with stately politeness to receive her,
but she shrank from his approach, and re
quested the bady of Nathaniel Hale for
christian burial.
Howe was evidently surprised at the
nature of the petition, but courteously
answered that it could not be granted,
Captain lisle having already been buried
three days.
"Yet surely he might be disentered,"
persisted she esgerly stepping forward
then seeing denial in his looks, she added
beseechingly, "You will not refuse his
eld parents a look on the face of their
son ; if you are a father you cannot be so
cruelly dead to humanity."
"Are you a sister or wife of the de•
ceased, that you so urgently ask tut his
remains?"
"Neither, Oh neither," replied the
tortured girl, pressing her hands over
her eyes to hide the burst of tears the
question had unlocked. A young officer,
pitying her distress, handed her a chair.
She sat down, and was endeavoring to
check her untimely tears, when another
advanced—a thing of laced scarlet and
huge epaulette, and 'touching the tip of
her white neck with his insolent finger,
demanded "if she were neither the wife
nor sister of the handsome spy, what else
could she be unless it were a sweet
heart 1"
The blood flushed into the cheek of the
insulted girl, like a sudden sunset, but
without answering him, she turned to
General //owe, and said--.. 1 expected at
least to be secure: but as 1 find myself
mistaken, I request an answer to my pe
titlon, and liberty to withdraw."
Howe cast on the young and imperti
nent stranger a look of stern anger, and
then turning to Sarah, he said with smooth
suavity of manner so common to the man
of the world, and difficult to contend a
gainst, so artfully does it charm away op
position.
"Young lady, I regret that it is not in
my power to grant your request. The re
mains you seek, hove been disposed of ac
cording to law in such cases and must
not be disturbed, I should be extremely
happy to gratify you, but in this as I have
said, it is entirely out of my power,"
Sarah was about to spark again, but
with a bow of dismissal, he requested the
young officer who had handed her a chair
to conduct her to the boat in which she
cause. Sarah shrunk from the offered'
arm of her conductor, though much her
trembling limbe needed support, and wal
ked silently to the shore, and just as she
was stepping into the boat, he drew close
to her side, and whispered—..be in that
little cove yonder at midniett and I will
help you to tit.' possession of the body you
are so desirous to obtain." Sarah, with a
stifled cry of joy, seized his hand,
"Anil will you indeed help mel—God
bless you!"
"Restrain yourself, we shall be obser
ved; sail out of sight of the camp, and at
midnight come as I have di.,ected to the
cove—the grave is near by—you can see
the tree," he hesitated, but too late, Sa
ral.'s eyes had fallen on that fatal old oak,
standing bleak and alone, spreading its
huge branches against the sky, like the
congregated arms of giant executioner.s.
A remnant of rope dangled from one of
its guarded limbs. Sarah gave one pier
cing look, and her heart seemed for a mo
ment in the clinch of a vulture; and then
with a shuddering grasp of horror she
sprang into the boat and shut out the
fearful sight with her lucked hands.
The same moon that had witnessed the
parting of Hale and his betrothed, now
shown upon her as she sat by the side of
his old father in the boat that lay upon
her oars in the cove, rocking to the swell
of the rising tide, and drifting by degrees
towards the shore.
Ihe watchers were anxiously hooking
tbr the appearance of the generous Eng
lishmen within hearing of the sentinel
stationed near the grave. His heavy
measured tread, at length ceased; and
the sound of some voices came from where
he was standing. There was a silence
for a few minutes, a cracking of the brush
wood that skirted the cove, and then the
young officer stood on the beach within
a few paces of them.
'Quick, pull on shore"—he called out
►n a suppressed voice—"l have got
rid of the sentinel for half au hour--quick
[o• we shall not have time."
Two or three strokes of the oar brought
the boat to his feet. 'Hie old ►nan arose,
the very picture of stern grief—the moon
light displaying the still lineaments of his
pale face as he gasped, with both of his,
the large white hands extended to assist
hint on shore. The boatman followed,
and Sarah was left alone.
It was a fearful half hoar to that poor
girl, the waves moaning like unquiet spiv.
its about her, and the dreadful sounds of
shoveling of earth and muffled voices coni
log from the distance. She dared not
look after the three as they went toward
the grave, for her heart sickened at the
thought of again looking at the gallows
tree with its horrid appendage,
A suspension of sounds caused Sarah
to raise her face from the folds of her
shawl where she had buried it: no living
being was in sight. But the shadow of
the bloody oak had crept along the water
like a vast pall endowed with vitality, till
its extreme lay upon the edge of the boat;
and was insidiously moving towards her.
ith a cry of terror, and shuddering all
over as if the unearthly dew of another
world was upon her, the poor girl snatch
ed an oar and shoved into the moonlight,
again she looked up, and the three who
'had disinterred the dead appeared, bear
ing him over the bright grass, wrapped in
a cloak of the Englishman, the feet sup-
'ported by the generous officer, and the
gray hairs of the father streaming over the
bosom of his lifeless son. Noieless they
came to the shore. There the old man
left his burden in the arms of the officer,
while he took his seat in the boat; and
then his quivering arms were extended,
and tho hedy of Nathaniel shrouded in his
military winding sheet, was laid across
the lap of his father, while his head res
ted on the chilled bosom of Isis betrothed
wife.
They went out upon the waters—the
living and the dead, when old Hale rais
ed his gray head and spoke to the young
lady. "Sarah, in our mourning fur the
dead, we must not forget the duty we
owe to our country. Let us search for
the papers we are to carry to Washing
too." Then with his old quivering hands
he unfolded the cloak, and found the pa
pers containing the information. purchas
ed at so great a sacrifice secured in the
vest. In taking them out of the bosom,
the corpse was laid bare. The moonlight
poured full upon his broad white front,
and there just over the pulseless heart,
Sarah with a cry of agony saw that long.
bright ringlet of her own hair,
The Personal Character and
Habits of Washington.
The following are recollections of Wash
ington, derived from repeated opportuni
ties during the three last years of his pub
lic life. He was over six feet in stature,
of strong, bony, muscular frame, without
fullness of covering, well formed and
straight. He was a man of most extra
ordinary strength. In his house his at,
thin was calm, deliberate, and dignified,
without pretension to gracefulness or pe
culiar manner, but merely natural, and
such as one would think it would be in
such a man. When walking in the street
his movements had not the soldierly air
which might be expected. His habitual
, notions had' een formed long before he
took command of the American armies,
in the war of the interior, and in the sur
veying of wilderness lands, in employ
ments in which grace and elegance were
not likely to be acquired.
At the age of sixty-five, time had done
nothing towards betiding him out of his na
tural erectness. His deportment was in
variably grave, it was sobriety ihat stop•
ped short of sadness. His presence in
spired a veneration a feeling of awe, rare
ly experienced if. the presence of any
man. His mode of speaking was slow
and deliberate not as though lie was in
search of fine words, but that he might
utter those only adapted to his purpose.
It was the usage of all persons in good
society, to attend Mrs Washington's le
vee on Friday evenings. He was always
present. The young ladies nsed to throng
around him in conversation. There were
some of the well remembered belles of
. that day who imagined themselves to be
favorites with him. As these were the
only opportunities they had of conversing
with him they were disposed to use them.
One would think. that a gentleman and a
gallant soldier, if he could ever laugh, or
dress his countenance in smiles, would do
so when surrounded by young and admi
ring beauties. But this was never so; the
countenance of Washington never soften
ed or changed its habitual gravity.
One who had always lived in his family
said his manner in public life, and in the
seclusion of most retired life, was always
the same. Being asked whether Wash•
ington could laugh, this person said that
this was a rare occurrence, but that one
instance was remembered, when he laugh
ed most heartily et her narration of an in
cident in which she was a party concer
ned, and in which he applauded her agen
cy. The late Gen Cobb, who was long
a member of his family during the war—
and who enjoyed a laugh as much as any
one man could,—said that he never saw
Washington laugh excepting when Col
Scaunnel—if this was the person—came
to dine at head qearters. Scammel had a
fund of ludicrous anecdotes, and a man
ner of telling them which relaxed even
the gravity of the Commander-in Chief.
Gen Cobb also said that the forms of
proceedings at head quarters were exact
and precise, orderly and punctual. At
the appointed moment, Washington ap
peared at the breakfast table. He expec
ted to find all the members of his family
—Cobb, Hamilton, and Humphreys were
among them•—awaiting him. He came
dressed for the day, and brought with
him the letters and despatches of the pre.
ceeding (lay, with short memoranda of
the answers to be made—also the sub
stance of orders to be issued. When
breakfast was over, these papers were dis
tributed among his aids to be put into
form.
Soon after, he mounted his horse to vis‘
it his troops, and expected to find, on his
return before noon, all the papers prepa
red for his inspection and signature.—
There was no familiarity in his presence;
it was all sobriety and business. His
mode of bile was abstemious and temper..
ate. ne had a decided preference for
certain sorts of food, probably from early
ossociations. Throughout the war, as it
was understood in his military family, lie
gave a part of every day to private pray
er and devotion.
While he lived in Philadelphia, as
President, he rose at tour in the morning,
and the general rule of his house was,
that the fires should be covered, and the
lights extinguished, at a certain hour—
, whether this was nine or ten, is not rec
ollected.
[WIIoLE NO• 31!.
He devoted one hour every other Tues
day, from three to four, to public visits.
He uraerstood himself to be visited as the
President of the U. States and not on his
own account. He was not to be seen by
any body • id every body; but teetuired
that every one who came should be intro
duced by his Secretary, or by some gen
: tleman whom he knew himself. me lived
on the south side of Market street just
below Sixth. The place of reception was
the dining roots in 'he read, twenty-live
or thirty feet in length, including the bow
projecting into the garden, Mrs Wash
ington received her visitors iu the two
rooms on the second floor, flout front to
rear.
At three o'clock, or at any time within
a quarter ut an hour afterward, the visiter
was conducted to his dining room, from
which all seas had been removed for the
time. On entering, ha saw the tall man
ly figure of If ashington, clad in black vel
vet, his hair in full dress, powdered and
gathered behind in a silk bagtellow glov
' es on his hands holding a cocked hat with
a cockade in it, and the edge adorned
with a black feather about an inch wide.
see wore knee and shoe buckles, and a
long sword, with a finely wrought and
polished steel hilt, which appeared at the
lett hip, the coat wore over the blade, and
appearing from under the folds. behind,
Übe scabbard was white polished leather,
The Resting Place.
Beautiful Extract.—"however dark
and disconsolate the path of life may
seem to any man, there is an hour of deep
and undisturbed repose at hand when the
body may sink into a dreamless slumber.
—Let not the imagination be startled,
this resting place, instead of being a be
of down, shall be a bed of gravel, or th.
rocky pavement of the tomb. No mat
ter where the poor remains of a man ma'
be, the repose is deep and undisturbed',
the sorrowful bosom heaves no more; thi
aching heart is at rest, and the storm:
waves of earthly tribulation eell unheede.
over the place of graves. Let armies en
gage in fearful conflict over the bosom a
the dead, not one of the sleeper's heei,
the spirit striving triumph, or respond ti
the rending sounds of victory.
now quiet those countless million.
slumber in the arms of their mother earth
The voice of thunder shall not awaker
them ; the loud cry of the elements—thi
winds—the waves—nor even the gian
tread of the earthquake, shall be able ti
cause an inquietude in the chamber a
death. They stall rest and pass away
the last great battle shall be fought; ant
I then a silver voice at first just heard, shal
rise to a tempest, and penetrate the voice
lessgrave. For the'! rumpet shall souni
and the dead shall hear his voice."
Death Came in Mercy—The Bestoi
Post gives an account of a distressing can
which occurred in that city last week
A smart, fashionable louki.►g man wa
complained of for leaving his wile in a
state of utter destitution. While shs
was lying ►n a dying state at home, di
vested of every comfort tending to soots
the pangs of disolution, he was enjoyin a
himself at a champagne frolic. She die.
on Saturday, and there was not to b.
found in the miserable room where sh.
breathed her last, even a decent sheet t.
lay her out in, or a cap to put on her
head. ner disease was consumption, ar
gravated by the conduct of her husband.
The post says he is a smart, good looking
fellow, and will no doubt still find some
woman fool enough to marry him, not.
withstanding his treatment of the deceas
ed.
SUNKET.—The sun sets--and the heart
closes her great eye like that of a dying
god. Then smoke the hills like altars:
out of every wood ascends the chorus—
the veils of day, the shadows, float around
the enkindled, transparent tree tops; and
fall upon the gay, gemlike flowers. And
the burnished gold of the west throws
back a dead gold on the east. and tinges
with ro.y light the hovering breast of the
tremulous lark—the evening bell of na
ture.
ARISTOORAOY.It is related of Gen.
Foy, a distinguished French orator, that
one occasion as he was entering with much
fervor into a political discussion in the
chamber, and had just pronounced the
word t. , Irtatocracy," a voice from the
mtnisteriol side asked him for a definition
of it. "Aristocracy," answered he, at
once and calmly 'Aristocracy, in the nine•
teenth century, is the league. the coalition,
of those who wish to consume without pro ,
diming, live without working, occupy all
public places without being competent to
fill them, seize upon all honors withogi
meriting them—that is Aristocracy.
.1 see the villain in your lace,' laid a
western judge to a prisoner at the bar
.May't please your worship,' reptiod Pat
I.that must be a refund relcctiun sum