VoL. VII, No. 21.]
PUBLISHED BY
THEODORE H. CREMER.
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if paid IN ADVANCE, and if not paid
within six months, two dollars and a half.
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rd, it will be kept in till ordered out, and
charted accordingly.
There lived, in the year 1800, in the
village of Majorada, a Spanish muleteer
and a young girl, whose situation in life
was not more elevated than his, she being
a servant in an inn, called the Golden
Fountain. These two young people had
been children together, and when they
reached what is called in England the
years of discretion, had loved and told
their love, and the day on which our story
commences the vows of eternal fidelity
had passed between them. The time was
fixed for the nuptials. In the mean time,
Napoleon had sent a French army into
Spain. Although favorably received at
first, it was not long ere it met with resis
tance. The muleteer, Francisco, was not '
the last to arm in defence of his country.
In vain did Inezella er.treat her lover not
to leave her, Determined to peace m his
duty to his country, Francisco was inexo
rable. When the day of separation ai ri
ved, and the guerilla went to pay his last
visit to lnezella, he found her upon her
knees before a little Madonna. He knelt
at her side, and, after uttering a short
prayer, handed her a white artificial rose.
"Arise!" said he. "This is the rose of
St. Cecile. 'rhe Bishop of Barcelona gave
it to my mother, the day of her marriage.
Keep it in remembrance of the poor mule
teer • it will bring happiness to us both."
With these words the young Spaniard
tore himself from the arms of his mistress,
and rushed from the apartment. Oppres
sed with the weight of her grief, she tell
upon her knees, pressing against her breast
the sacred emblem of their love ; and when
Francisco turned his head to take a last
look, he saw the afflicted girl already
praying for his return.
After the siege of Saragossa, the bands
of guerillas scattcret through the moun
tains, were broken up, and Francisco took
the road to Majorada, and arrived the 2d
October, 1801, at the little village of Al
covendas. It was late when he reached
the in., at wliieh :ati,go:. compelluts him to
halt for the night. When he entered the
" posada," he found it occupied by two
officer,' of French dragoons, who, with
their legs stretched out upon chairs, were
silently smoking their pipes. The gueril
la frowned, as he recognised the detested
uniform, and carefully wrapping himself
up in his cloak, took a seat at the further
end of the room.
The youngest of the two officers laid his
pipe upon the table.
" Here we are at last," said he, " in this
Spain, that our university dreams clothed
in so much poetry. Well, well, I must
confess the women are beautiful."
" Yes," replied the other, "but you will
onr couch at midnight, confess that you have been deceived in
them. It is hard that a rose, with so much
S forms flit slowly by, skill as you possess, should he made to
.len tones they speak to us, capitulate before the virtue of the servant
fly fade into the sky. of a Spanish inn."
at, when the dew falls, The guerilla became more attentive.
,valk with, us and sing, "Not so, my friend," said the one who
voice is like the murmuring
i had commenced the conversation, " the
.lows on the wing, fortress was well defended, but it was it,
X and not I, that capitulated. However,
p„ re vial circle upon my honor, that servant should have
Br ie erry band,
been entitled to the crown of white roses
sum (sorrow • at Majorada."
So a dd in band, The glass that Francisco held, cracked
That sit beside us, between his fingers. He stretched his
And ddur eyes; hand over the table next to him, and ta-
T hose c i\teir voices then, king up a knife, carefully examined its
Unwillintinute surprise, point.
So rich, E 4 " Have you a proof of your victory i'"
.--.4arted, asked the other dragoon.
He div'
- t e me' s now,
rs " A proof I" muttered Francisco, be..
some t ime Pal light of peace tween his teeth.
been rivu'd 1. w.
The officer turned his head towards the
ablgiiie preciou
guerilla; when lie saw his pale and disz
Was glad ;111 1 .ms
o rdered face, his flashing eyes, and tremb-
To__,.trife of li fe, ling lips, he hesitated a moment. It seem-
The Ligi'T"
match the • ;
ed to him that the presence of Francisco
foreboded ill.
Ata-•
When first I's " Here it is," said he at length, drawing
from the folds of his cloak a white rose.
I
Of 'remtd
it till its ra, eranc,...
Francisco, with a single bound, leaped
watch'
the place which separated him from the
its rays table of the two officers, and with a threat-
Shonelllura'd the world an.-
It rose in glory, and
'hem, and eyes flashing fi re, stood be-
Anddabright at morn and evte
promise gave of happier
ot ma Y vens , t rose is mine!" lie cried, in a
On Earth; --and hopes of 'er,
u " mine, the betrothed of
POETRT.
The Carrier Dove.
SONG.
Fly away to my native land sweet dove,
Fly away to my native land,
And bear these lines to my lady love,
Which I've traced with a trembling hand.
She marvels much at my long delay ;
A rumor of death has she heard,
Or she thinks perhaps I have falsely strayed
Then fly to her bower sweet dove.
fly to her bower and say the chain
/ Ulthe tyrant is over me now,
I never shall mount my steed again,
With a helmet upon my brow ;
I shall miss thy visits at dawn, sweet dove,
I shall miss thy visits at eve,
But bear these lines to my lady love,
And then I shall cease to grieve.
No voice to my lattice a solace brings,
f/i!acept when your voice has been heard,
6 / When you beat the bars with your snowy
wings.
Then fly to her bower, sweet dove.
, ittAild4mYrili a dungeon to waste away youth,
I could faliby the conqueror's sword,
But I could not endure she should doubt my
truth,
Theo fly to her bower, sweet dove,
/ From the New York American.
The Dead.
) The dead. The dead are with us;
And they throng around our way,
And the greenness of their memory
In our hearts can ne'cr decay.
- Irm round the hearth we gather,
e know that they are there ;
with them our spirts worship
.the holy place of prayer.
i~
~! ~~
/
I marked its glory -beaming light, •
As up the heav'ns it sprung,
While u'er the Sarth the clouds of night,
No longer darkly hung;
And these bright rays of heavenly birth,
To erring man were given;
To wean his spirit from the Earth,
And point his way to Heaven.
010 may that bright and shining light
Still beam the wild world o'er,
To guide man's wand'ring footsteps right;
Till Time shall be no more.
And then when Death the light of !de
From this dull clay has riven,
The soul may soar in glad relief,
To you bright home in Heaven.
;14
7A.t A
JOURNAL•
HUNTINGDON, PENNSYLVANIA, WEDNESDAY, JUNE 1,1842.
ACIDOEL7.IAIIEVUEI.
From the Ladies Gazette.
The Rose of St. Cecile.
TRANSLATED FROM THE TRENCH,
Nerds, he seized his rival
"%uried the knife in his
•cs of this scene had
if you c;•1:-. —-v,-. of his bride, burble soul hadon it the stain
ode no of dishonor , and Julia had vowed before
• ,, l for God she never would be his wife. .
Hallowell knew that Robert generally
‘.lfiGlereloatuligii: %
,t..
4 ,tentled his dauhter to church, and
her acquaintances and so on ; but
dreamed that the wily Cupid
master. s l a ll ni d ilh i a v o d i w d a e "l 1 1 11 1 de o
on laybroliulliel-Eol clas 9 , h e went and came
\
yaloluoltivlyvoi:t‘uvdhyo
ctlytephgerra,mgnotetro,ggeoth:er,
you who are learning to read, go togeOg his darts successfully into
The school wheeled into divisional bth ; and t d, he
and arrow he s of the
alt
suddenly as a military company th." both
fixe de
master' seemed to look upon us with J until they were far out
too far to proceed or
ther.
"ONE COUNTRY, ONE CONSTITUTION, ONE DESTINY."
Six o'clock had just struck. A young
girl, who seemed exhausted with fatigue
and anxiety, traversed Madrid from the
Convent of San Lorenzo to the gates of
Buren Retiro. The officer of the guard,
when he saw the distracted air of the poor
girl, was moved with compassion, and had
not the heart to forbid her entrance into
the palace. But scarcely had she taken
twenty steps in the court, when a file of
grenadiers crossed her path. In the cen
tre of the soldiers walked Francisco; his
head erect and his arms crossed over his
chest. Inezella recognized her lover.—
Breathless her hair dishevelled— she
threw herself upon her knees before the
Frenchmen, who halted, moved at the sight
of such deep depair.
" Oh! pardon, pardon Francisco!" cried
the poor girl, stretching her hands suppli-
catingly towards the condemned ; "lam
more unfortunate than guilty, Violence
alone made me faithless."
Then seeing the file moving forward,
she rushed after her lover, and entwining
his body within her arms, exclaimed, "One
word of pardon, Francisco: 0! say that
you feel neither hatred nor anger-"
The guerilla looked at her with sorrow.
" Neither hatred nor anger," he replied,
drawing from his bosom the white rose of
St. Cecile. "There is thy rose, Inezella.
It is faded, like thy virtue; it is withered,
like my heart: Now," added he to the
soldiers, "do your duty. Vive L'Es
pagne!"
Of the fate of the betrothed of Francis.
co we are ignorant. As to the officer, he
recovered irom his wounds, and a short
time after the incidents we have just vela
' ted, gained the epaulette of a captain of
cavalry at the siege of Saragossa. Now,
he bitterly reproaches himself for what he
calls the lollies of his youth, and it is from
his own lips we heard this story.
Obeying Instructions.
"Well, Julia, suppose I ask your father;
his refusal cannot make things much
worse than they are at present? Sus
pense. Julia, is the cause of the most mis
erable feelings."
Mre must nut be "hasty, iionert. ()Ur sit
uation requires caution, by a little man
agement we may possibly succeed, gloomy
as the prospects seemed to be. Now
don't say any thing to Pa about it, yet—l
had much rather you would not. The
best possible way fur us to accomplish our
wishes, is not to advance too soon."
"Too soon—too soon, Julia! Have we
not waited two long years and more? and
have you not been all the while preach.
ing the same doctrine, "too sooni Too
soon indeed!"
♦Nell, now, don't be angry; throw
that frown from your countenance and
look pleasant, and we will immediately
set about some plan by which to effect
what you so much desire. Come, smile
away your anger—the skies of love are
sometimes clear.
Robert Moultrie loved Julia Hallowell
and she loved him; two years and more
had passed since they had agreed—come
weal, come woe--they'would trudge thro'
life together. Two long, long years!—
Two years seemed an eternity to wait up
on the eve of bliss, and to delay a happy
consummation.
Julia's father was a wealthy shipper of
the port of Charleston, S. C. Some old
inhabitants remember the firm of Hallow
ell and Haddington. He was an upright
and highly honourable man; but whose ipse
dixit was law supreme wherever his pow
er could be exercised.
Robert Moultrie was a clerk in the
counting room, and his salary, which was
his sole dependence, though far above the
pittance usually allowed to young men
similarly situated, and amply sufficient to
warrent his assuming the expenses of a
family, did not elevate him to that impor
tance in society which would justify him
in presuming upon the hand and heart of
the daughter of a wealthy shipper.
The character of this young gentleman
was unimpeachable; and he was as much
respected for his talents as he was for his
correct deportment; (Na i ls a wicked word)
the curse of Gehaza was upon him—he
was poor.
Robert had been in the counting room
of Mr. Hallowell since he was fourteen
years of age ; he had grown up in his fam
ily, and by the side of his lovely heiress,
who had been promised to a thing of,
wealth and show. That thing was in the
Indias, amassing riches to lay at the feet
"Do tell me, Robert what is the mat.
ter with you. I have been a witness to
your downcast looks and sorrowful ap
pearance, until 1 have grown melancholy
myself. What's the matter, boy?"
This question was asked by Mr. Hal
lowell, one day when he and Robert were
in the counting room alone, and if any in
dividual has ever passed through a like
fiery trial, he can have an idea of Robert's
feelings when the man whose daughter he
had loved, was contriving the best plan to
get from him the secret cause of his down
cast looks and addressed him in such kind
and eftectionate language. It went too
deep, however, in the recesses of Robert's
bosom for him to return a quick reply.--
Mr. Hallowell plainly saw that something
was working upon his mind that made
him unhappy, and he wished if possible,
to remove the cause ; he urged a candid
revelation of all that affected his feelings,
and promised his assistance to relieve
him, whatever it required. Robert suc
ceeded, however, in putting him off that
time, anti trembled at the thought when at
their next meeting he related the matter
to Julia.
"1 thought," said she, laughing, " you
were not so anxious to ask the old gen•
tleman nos you appeared to be. Now that
was a stomper Robert. Why did you
not tell him? Why did you not? Ilal
ha! ha!"
"Julia, to you think he suspects?"
" Not a whit more than he does the King
of the French !".
"iNc I, Julia, do tell the truth about the
matter left this morning with the inten
tion oetelling him all about our affection
for each other; and if he refused, 1 was
determined to act for thyself', wihout fur
ther advice: but when I cane before him,
1 felt something in my throat choking me,
and I could hardly talk to him ahout busi
ness, much less about love affairs."
The lovers met often, and the voyage
from the Indias being threatened, it be
came necessary that they should prepare
for the trials that seemed to await them.
In short M r. Hallowell was endeavoring to
ascertain the cause of his clerk's unhappi
ness, inure for the good of the young man
than owaause he cared for the aiiinipor
taut mistakes made by him in his accounts.
The next opportunity that offered, he re•
peated his former question, and insisted
upon an immediate reply.
Robert stuttered and stammered a great
deal, and at last came out with it—" I am
attached to a young lady of this city, sir,
and have reason to believe that she is
much attached to me, but there is an ob
'!*e!. '2*.fi way, and—"
"Ah, indeed. And does the obstacle
amount to over a thousand dollars? If it
does not, you shall not want it. I'd fill
up a check now. Have all the `parties
consented!"
" Why sir, the cause of my—••the mason
--she--that is—the cause of my uneasi
ness, is, I ant afraid her lather will not
consent!"
" Why who is he ? refer him to me;
I'll settle the matter."
"lie is a rich man, sir, and I am not
rich."
" Ills daughter loves you, does she 7"
"I think— a—yes, sir."
" She says so, any how, don't she?"
"Why--I--yes—she—she.—yea, sir,
she has said as much."
Is the old fellow very rich 1"
" I believe, sir, he is tolerably well off?"
" And he won't consent? By the pow
ers of love lie must be an old Turk--he
won't hey? Here give me his name—l'll
soon settle the matter. But stop, has he
any thing against you? Does he know
me 7"
Here the old gentleman went over a
string of questions which Robert felt no
disposition to answer, and which it is not
worth our while to relate. The conclu
sion of the conference left Robert in the
possession of a check for a thousand dol.
lars, a letter of introduction to Parson
Green of the Presbyterian church, and
the following advice from the lips of his
father-in-law in perspective. lie was to
run away with the girl, to use Mr. Hal
lowell's carriage, and George, his black
waiter, was to drive and so forth.
Robert governed himself in strict ac
cordance with the advice given; and be
fore dark the parties were before Parson
Green, whose scruples of conscience were
quieted by the introductory letter. They'
were soon pornounced husband and wife,
and jumped into the carriage, followed by
the blessing of Parson Green, whose lee
was a small part of the thousand dollar
check; Geoige was directed to drive to a
rich old childless uncle of Robert's who
lived about five miles Irons the city, and to
whom the secret was told. The old man,
thinking the joke too good a one not to
be enjoyed, sent out for some of the neigh
bors. Midnight still found the jovial as
sembly destroying the good things the
aunt had provided, and laughing over the
trick so successfully played upon the
wealthiest shipper at the South.
Early in the morning, Robert and Mrs.
Moultrie were attended by their uncle and
lannt to the house of Mr. Hallowell ; the
i r young couple anxious fur the effervescence
of a father's wrath to be over, arid the an
tiquated pair to witness the reception and
act as moderator on the question. They
were met in the parlor by Mr. Hallowell
whose first words were.—
" You young rogue, you, little did I
know how my advice was to act upon me.
Well Robert," he added, laughing hearti
ly, " you caught me that time ; and you
deserve to be rewarded for the General
, ship you have displayed. Here, my boy
—my son, I suppose I must say, here are
deeds for property worth eleven thousand
dollars, and henceforth you are my part•
Fuer in business:
Moonshine.
We sometimes recur to the (lays of our
childhood with a pleasing recollection of
events which then transpired, and contrast
them with the troubles, cares, perplexities
and responsibilities which alter life brings
upon us: When young, we think all is to
be fair weather. We hardly can imagine
that clouds and storms can arise to disturb
or trouble us; every thing is sunshine, but
there is no moonshine. Every thing will
turn outlast as we expected. There will
be no disappointments, no hopes blighted,
no disasters to interrupt our career of
prosperity.. But these fond anticipations
are, alas: too often, proved to be all moon
shine! What we confidently anticipated
in our days of youthful buoyancy, would
"lead us on to fortune," brings us nothing
but sorrow, disappointment and regret.
An anecdote may serve to illustrate these
remarks. A little boy was walking out
with his grandmother in the country,
among a grove of trees, one moonlight eve
ning. He had not gone far before the old
lady perceived something on the ground
that appeared like a white handkerchief,
and as she stooped, intent to pick it up,
he perceived that it was but the light of
the moon shining thrdugh the branches
above them, and called out, " la granma,
it's moons hine!" "Its but moonshine,
truly," said she, rubbing her fingers in ev
ident disappointment, "but many people
grasp at inirot 41ine."
We have since often witnessed the truth
of our remark,
When we see a young man pursuing a
gay butterfly of a girl because she is beau
tiful, though she possesses none of the
qualifications necessary to make a good
wife, a good housekeeper, or a good moth
er, it brings to our mind the old story ; de
pend upon 4 he is grasping at the Old
phantom; it us all moonshine.
When we see pleasure hunters and
those who are seeking after happiness
plunge into dissipation, or seek gay and
giddy company, we know the disappoint
ment that awaits them ; these are not pearls
of price that bring with them peace and
I content; they are worthless; they are no
t/it:rip; but toonahino.
When we see a gambler forever at the
billiard table with eager hopes of making
money thereby, carrying with him the
means by which alone his family can be
supported, to squander it there, we think
with a sigh, how sadly that poor man mis
takes the path of wisdom, and labors after
that which is all moonshine.
He is grasping at moonshine who strives
to raise his consequence in the world by a
suit of fine clothes, or an unpaid sideboard;
and so is he who is aiming to build a foun
dation upon which to elevate himself in
the estimation of the world, consisting of
a few thousand dollars; for as Burns says:
The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man'. the gold for all that.
And none can ever become truly great
but those whom nature has fitted to be so.
These are plain, palpable cases. We
have sometimes thought men were grasp
ing at moonshine, who attempted to live
by literature, or make money by printing
newspapers ; or dreamed of collecting their
debts, or receiving legacies in these times;
yet as these may be doubtful, we will not
persist in them.—Boston Transcript.
TILE WESTERN ERSKINE.—The follow
ing sublime burst of eloquence astonished
the natives in Arkansas (classical, Rack
ensack,) some few weeks since. An over
seer had killed a negro named Daniel.--
The Advocate wound up his defence
thus:
"Gentlemen of the jurv—l know that
Daniel will no longer pick the white cot
tins ball from the cotting stalk—no more
enliven the midnight crowd with the pat
ting of the romantic jawbone, and the play
ing of the sentimental jewsharp—will
never again cast his angling line into the
broad, superfluous, majestic and outrage
ous bosom of the eternal Mississippi.—
Yes, I know that he now reposes • alone
in his glory,' on the north corner of a
bleak hill-side, with his eyes turned to.
wards the cerulean heavings, and his big
toe sticking out a feet! Yet, is that any
reason why my client should be hung 1
think not! I rather suppose not!— Roch•
ester Dess.
[WHOLE No. 333
Married in spite of their Teeth.
A CIIOICK AxEcnoTE.—Old Gov. S al
tonstall of Connecticut, who ilorislied
" some years since, was a man Of some hu
mor as well as perseverance, in effecting
the ends he desired. Among other anec
dotes told of him by the New London
people, the plate where he resided, id
the following.
Of the various sects which have flour
ished for their day and then ceased to ex
ist, was one known as the Rogersites, so
called from their founder; a John or 'font
or some other Rogers, who settled nut
far from the good own aforesaid.
The distinguishing tenet of the sett;
was their denia! of the propriety, and
scripturality" of form of marriage. "It
is not good for man to be alone." This
they believed and also that one wife only
should "cleave to her husband." But
then this should be a matter of agreement
merely, and the couple should come to+
gether and live as man and wife, dispen •
sing with all the forms of marriage co uve
nan t. The old Governor used frequently
to call upon Rogers, and talk the matter
over with him, and endeavor to convince
him of the impropriety of living with
Sarah as he did. But neither John or Sarah
would give up the argument.
It was a matter of conscience with
them; they were very happy together as
they were—of what use then could a mere
form be? Suppose they would thereby es
cape scandal ; were they not bound "to
take up the cross," and live according to
the rules they professed? The Governor's
logic was powerlesS.
He was in the neighborhood of John
one day, and meeting with him accepted
an invitation to dine with him. The con
versation as Nadal turned upon the old
subject.
John, says the Governor, after a
long discussion of the point, why will
you not marry Sarah? Have you not taken
her to be your lawful wife.'
Yes, certainly, replied John, but my
conscience will not permit me to marry
her, in the forms of the world's people.
Very well. But you love he►?
Yes.
And cherish her, as bone of your bone,
and flesh of your flesh?
Yes, certainly, I do?
And you love him, and obey him, anti
respect him, and cherish him?
Certainly, I do?
Then, cried the Governor, rising, In thd
name of the laws of God, and of the Com
monwealth of Connecticut; 1 pronounce
you to be husband arid wile!
The raving and rage of John and Sarah
were of no avail—the knot was tied by
the highest authority of the State.
Existence of Deity.
There is a God! The herbs of the
ley, the cedars of the mountain, blesi him
—the insect sports in his beams—the ele ,
phant salutes him with the rising orb of
day—the bird sing.s him in the foliage—
the thunder proclaims him in the heavens
—the ocean declares his immensity—man
alone has said, "There is no God."
Unite in thought, at the same instant,
the most beautiful objects in nature ; sup
pose you see at once all the hours of the
day, and all the seasons of the year; a
morning of sprinr , and morning of autumn;
a night bespangl ed with stars, and a night
covered with clouds; meadows enamelled
with flowers, forests hoary with snow;
fields gilded by the tints of autumn--then
alone yen will have a just conception of
the universe. While you are gazing on
that sun which is plunging under the vault
of the west, another observer admires him
emerging from the gilded gates of the east.
By what inconceivable magic does that
aged star, which is sinking fatigued and
burning in the shade of evening, reappear
at the same instant fresh and humid with
the rosy dew of the morningl At every
instant of the day the glorious orb is at
once rising resplendent at noon;dayi
setting in the west; or rather our senses
deceive us, and there is properly speaking,
no east, or south, or west, in the world.
Every thing reduces itself to one single
point, from whence the King of Day sends
forth at once a triple light in one single
substance. The bright splendor is per,
haps that which nature can best present
that is most beautiful ; for while it gives
us an idea of the perpetual magnificence
and resistless power of God, it exhibits at
the same time, a shining image of the glo..
rious Trinity.—Chatatibriand.
Bow-wow! —The dog law has gone into
operation in New Orleans. The editors
of the Picayune say in connection with
the announcement, " We do not mean to
make any insinuation, but if sausages
should become cheap, folks may attribute
it just to whatever they have a mind to."
ABSENCE or MIND.—A friend of ours
Ihtely kissed his wiles maid, and did'nt
discover his error till the girl cried out,
ku mistress is a coining."