Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, November 26, 1845, Image 1
HLTI T' N.GI):.'ILN . JOURNAL • - , gmnu Sitiotipaver--Otbotat to Central *ltteMature, gttfUerttotitg, Vottticti, interature, Sitoratitz arta, 55tte1tcto, Oftriculturc, Ztutttoenteitt, kr., kr. i ZO I CCDa VraD6 PIIBLIIIIIZD BY JAMES CLARK, 9=PaDzpmnas. The "Jouttiv AL" will be published every Wed , nesday morning , at $2 00 ayear, if paid in advance, and if not paid within six months, $2 50. . . No subscription received for a shorter period than six months, nor any paper discontinued till all ar rearages are paid. Advertisements not exceeding one square, will be inserted three times for $1 00, and for every subse quent insertion 25 cents. If no definite orders are given as to the time an advertisement is to be continu ed, it will be kept in till ordered out, and charged ac cordingly. POETRY. “To charm the languid hours of solitude He oft invites her to the Muse's lore.” The Bride's Farewell. Br 2dllB. lIEMANS, Why do I weep, to leave the vine Whom clusters o'er me bend? The myrtle, yet, oh ! call it mine ! The flower. I love to tend ? A thousand thought. of all things deer, Like ehadowe o'er me sweep, I leave my funny childhood here, Oh ! therefore let me weep. I leave thee, sister! We have play'd Through many a joyous hour, Where the silvery green of the olive ebedo flung dim o'er the fount and the bower! Yes ! thou and I, by atream by shore, In song, in prayer, in sleep, Have been as we may be no more: Kind sister let me weep I i leave thee, father ! Eve's bright moon Must now light other feet, With the gathered grapes and the lyro in tune, Thy homeward steps to greet! Thou, in whose voice, to bless thy child, Lay tones of love so deep, Whose eye o'er all my youth halls smiled, I leave thee ! let me weep ! Mother ! I leave thee i On thy breast Pouring out joy and woe, I have found that hole place of rest Still changles ; yet I go ! Lips that have lulled me with your strain, • Eyes that have watched my sleep— Will earth give love like yours again? Sweet mother let me weep ! BE HIND. ie kind to thy father—for when thou wert young, Who loved theo so fondly se het lie caught the first accents that fell from thy tongue, And joined in thy innocent glee. He kind to thy father, far OW he is old, His locks intermingled with gray; His footsteps are feeble, once fearless and bold, Thy father is passing away. Be kind to thy mothe:—for 10l on her brow May traces of sorrow be seen; 011 well may'et thou cherish and comfort her now, For loving and kind hash she been. Remember thy mother—for thee will she pray, As long as God giveth her breath; , With accents of kindness, then cheer her lone way, E'en to the dark valley of death. Be kind to thy brother—his h'eart will have dearth, If the smile of thy joy be withdrawn; The flowers of feeling will fade at their birth, If the dew of affection be gone. `Be kind to thy brother—wherever you are, An ornament purer and richer by far Then pearls from the depth of the eeu. Ite kind to thy sister—not; many may know The'depth of true sisterly love; The wealth of the ocean lies fathoms below Tho surface that Sparkles above. Thy kindness shall bring to thee many sweet hours, .And blessings thy pathway to crown; Affection shall weave thee a garland of flowers, Moro precious than Wealth O'r re tewn. Toniato Wine. The Tomato appeers to be one of theiniiverieli ties, and approaches man in every shape. Torriito pills--food and physic—Wail the rage a few years ago, and now we hear of tomato wine—victuals amldrink. To make tomato wine, Alio folloWing recipe is given - ill tl Prario Farmer: “To one quart of juice, ptrelspound danger, and 'Clarify it• as for sweermeats:--The. above is very much improved by adding a small proportion of the juice of the compton grape. The subscriber be lieves this wine far better and much safer for a tonic or other medical uses than the wine generally sold as Port Wines, &c., for such purposes. It is. peculiarly adapted to some diseases and states of the system; and is particularly recommended for • derangements of the liver." Autercnvrone..Seene, a corn -field; men with loam' titne, eleven o'clock, A. M. Enter Squire, the owner of the field. One of the .uteri spike; Squire, it's eleven o'clock you know, and wo are thirsty, and tho scripture says: "If any man thirst, let him come and drink." 18quiie; Ayo, but 'the Scripture also we; "Hoe, vie* OW the thissetcht" tKau7a.cea.upcc)„ . 1 - . 4a)%viut3al...ivau2. aaa<lef). From the Ladies' National Magazine. WOMAN'S INFLUENCE. DT ELLEN ASUTON ! s . ‘ P.Aa Earnest, do lay aside your law papers. 'I declare I shall not suffer you," continued his wife playfully,. No.be devoted to anything but myself." tier husband looked up from the huge brief, with the wearied. look.of ens almost worn out by inees , east mental labor,. but a smile instantly came over hie face as he met the eyes of his sweet wife. Then yon will break your promise, Belle," lie said, "for you know I told yau, when we married, that the law would be thereafter my mistress, al most as.much as yourself." . . "So you did. But you aro ruining your health by this, close application, and, ae I made no con tract for that, you must give, up these papers for to night. You toil too hard: I did not think of this when we married, Or I Would net have been so sel fish," she mid with a sigh, - “Nay, nay, Belle," replied her husband, pushing back his choir from the table, and affectionately taking the hand of bin wife between both of hie, " , there is no need to reproach yourself. If I work hard it is because lam ambitious. Fe: your sake lam resolved to win a foremost place at the bar, and with it opulence; but instead of repining at the toil that lies before tee, I bless God that you have been the means to force it on me., What would I have been but the idle spendthrift I was fast becoming, if I bad remained my uncle's heir and married Helen Weston F It was my love for you, which procuring my disinheritance, made me what I am!" "Ah, had I but known it in time—had yoU only told me that you sacrificed fortune for me—" "You would have refused me. You haVe said the same a dozen times before, Belle, and I know you too well to doubt your word. It was for that very reason I did not tell you. Had I informed you that my uncle would cut me off without a shilling if I married you, a mistaken pride would have led you to cancel our engagement. And what would have been the consequence ? Neither of us would have been , happy ; for ours was not the love of children, but cl adults, an affection founded on a knowledge of each others character and not on boyieh and girlish caprice, Whom God has thus joined us together, in spirit, let no min put asunder; and we should have ten acting criminally had we Welsch our plight to gratify the unreasonable and tyrannical whim of my uncle." . "But he was-year nenrest relative.-" ' , Granted. But had 'he been toy father. it would have been the same. No one goes further than I do in upholding the rights of parents; and, as a general rule, their commands, even on the subject of marriage, should be implicitly followed. Yet, in this case, there was no possible objection to you except your poverty. Now, as I look at the mat ter, this was my affair. If I choose to toil hard with you for my wife, instead of living a rich drone as Helen Weston's husband, it was my business and that of no other person whatever. Besides I knew she was not fit for a wife, at least for me ; vain, haughty, and ill-tempered, life with her would have been a constant scene of bickering. Nay, do not try to defend her— T l know your good -nature would make the beet of every one—l will, if it please you, say no more of her; but I thank heaven that you and not Helen is my wife." ""Ala ! Earnest, how shall I ever rrpay you for all you hove sacrificed!" ~ By saying nothing of it. Why, my dear, /have aacrificed nothing for you. On the contrary, all I have of fame or, fortune, I owe to you. When I first won your, love I was an idle man of fashion, 1 the heir expectaot,of thousands a year spent my time at the theatre, the billiard r:oms or the race course.. Without being acttrally depraved I was iiistbeeoming so. It is true I had no torte for low dissipation, tnik I was idle, and time hanging heav ily on my itands, I sought amusement : any and everywhere. Believe . me, the path of a rich young man is set thick with temptation. I was already acquiring a passion for play, when chance threw me in the circle where you moved. It was a passing whim, I then thought, that led ma to pay a visit to your country town, but I now believe it was a di rect interference on the part of Providence, who will not suffer a sparrow to fall without taking account of it. I saw you and loved. At first my gay com panions tried to laugh me out of my passion; but every day showed me more and more of your amia bility, modesty and correct principles. You knovv the rest. I chose' wisely in abanddning a fortune that would have made me a sloth, and might have been my ruiii." o But it pains me when I ace S•eu telling thus.— Yen Will injure your health by over-application.— Let us be contented with less." . "Calm your fears, dearest. My health sustains no injury, and it is only for the past week that my application has been so severe. this Maas, of pens belongs to a very complicated and important case which I was anxious to master, for it will be the reputation of any ono man thoroughly to un derstand it, and I consider myself fortunate in be ing retained. It shows that my fame is extending and that I am no longer a drone in society, but an Ininored and useful citizen. We should all do some good ; we owe it to our fellow creatures; and I feel far happier since I have been able, by means of my profession to redress injuries and right the wrong ed. I know you sometimes think I over work my self, and that Ido it fur your sake ; but it is not wholly so I, toil now from a sense of duty, and enjoy a aliptelno ?Aims in doing so. I hove dote enough, however, for to-night-4 think I thorough ly comprehend the case Lao wo will lay aside the papers. But next week I shall expect you to he very proud of me, for I intend to win this, my first great case, in the teeth of the opinion expressed by our oldest lawyers : end if I do so, it will restore an estate to a widow and tier children, who have • been defrauded of it by a miserly old muri, Who does not hesitate to say he has the letter of the will in his favor, and cares nothing fcir its aipirit. But we shall see. 111 win this cause, my fortune will be assured, and then you need have no mere fears, as I see you now have." Earnest Ormond has told his own story so well that we have nothing to add to it. Three years had now elapsed since his union with Isabel Rowe, and during that short paled he had risen to con- siderable eminence in his profession, surprising his, friends by the facility with which the idle man of fashion had been transformed into the studious and business-like lawyer. But there had been a fund of latedt energy hidden under the gay exterior of Earnest, and when his uncle disinherited him, ho applied himself at once to the study of the law, sup porting himself out of a small legacy to which he was entitled in his own right. Early and late he seas at his books ; and, when the time came for his examination, ho was admitted to the bar with the highest honors. His energetic application to his laborious profession soon brought him clients.— Gifted with great natural talent., which hitherto had been allowed to rust from disuse, he speedily became distinguished for eloquence: suits of importance be gan .to find their way to him ; and at length, by the advice 'of one of the oldest and most sagacious members of the bar, who had, been applied to but could not undertake it in consequence of other bu siness, he was. entriisted with a case, considered well nigh desperate, but ore involving an immense amount of property, end enlisting all the best feel ings of the heart in its favor.. It was this case to which he had alluded in the foregoing conversation with his wife. . . • .. "Well, Ormond, do you think you will be able to do anything to-day'?" said one of the opposing lawyers rather sneeringly, when he came into court. "You might as well own the weakness of your case and save us the trouble of bleeding." Taint heart never won fair lady,"' retorted Earnest, and bowing to the court, he said, "if your honor pleases, I will go on." ~ He had not spoken for more fhen half an'hour, before the triumphant looks of the opposing party became changed to those of alarm; for, to the as tonishment of all, he boldly asserted that the case • which they so relied on as a precedent, was itself ! bad law, and contradicted in a dozen instances in the books. He proceeded to enforce this assertion i with such an array of authority, and to enlarge on the absurdity of the precedent with such cogency of mason, that glances of consternation began to be exchanged between the lawyers for the defendant , and notes .trere hurriedly written and sent off for hooks which were wonted for the purpose of exam- • I Motion. The judge, who had shook his heed when , 1 Earnest announced bin. position, maw . began to he all attention, and seemed profoundly struck by the force of what the pleader.said. The news of the impression that Earnest was making soon spread abroad : the lawyers hurried in from their eflfcec and from the other courts, and the space both in side and outside the bar became speedily crowded. The subject was one well calculated also for the display of natural eloquence, and Earnest, in in veighing against the hardship of the pretended rule of law, by which a widow and her children were reduced to beggary, in contradiction. of the plain meaning of the will,drew tears from many an eye. Ho sat down amid murmurs of applause. "Well, gentlemen," said the judge, turning to the opposite side, " what have you to say 7 I con fess I think the cage is sifted to the bottom and that V . , 6 have been all wrong. Unless you can overturn Mr. Ormond's autlicirities I shall instruct the jury, I to give a verdict in his favor. He knows more law than all of its put together." , .. The opposing attornies attempted to make a de+ fence, but they spoke,. all the ',virile, with a con sciousness that they were in the wrong. As.the judge said, Earnest had sifted the whole matter to the bottom. The result was a charge from the bench in his favor, and a verdict from the jury who did not leave the box. So distinguished a triumph exceeded anything Which had occurred in the memory of the bar, arid at once elevated Ormond t ()the front . rank of his protbssion. !define he left the court-house, he had been retained as consulting counsel in a dozen cases of importance. From the congratulations of his friends he broke loose as coon ae possible and hur tied home. His wife was waiting for him in their ! little parlor, eager to hear the result, vet almes• dreading to ask it, fur she had not her husband's confidence of succeao. „ "I hay? won. 6i;o me joy, Della. Did I not say I would succeed l" . The wife flung herself into his arms, and buret into glad tears of joy. _ . . "Nay, weeping," said Earnest, ~ b ut I see they are tears of joy," he continued, us his wife smiled up into his fitco. And then, as the cheers of the crowd, who had followed him in triumph home, brelte on his ears, ho added, "see what you have made of me! I shall almost begin to think I ant a great man." ! Earnest—you know I have not made you this." "But you have, dearest. You it was that woke nee from my spell of indolence—the necessity of etruggling to provide you a home worthy of you, first taught me my own abilities—and without your love to.cheer me, in hours of depression caus ed by hard study, I might have given out long ago. But the goal is now won. Dear Belle, your sex little knows tho influence it exerts. It has saved Many a man beside me, even though ho has not had such an angel of a wife." Earnest fulfilled the promise he held out in his first great cal, and rose to ho the leading attorney of his native city, a member of Congress, a senator, a judge, and an ambassador abroad. But he never ceased, whenever the conversation diverged on his early struggles, to turn to his wife with a loving smile, and soy that 811 he bad, of fame or fortune, he owed to her influence. Mr. Webster's Remarks on Oregon, The Tariff, and home Politics. The Whigs of Boston bed a grand meeting on Friday, 7th inst., Mr. Webster, as was expected, made a speech, of which the Boston Conrier gives en abstract as follows: I think, gentlemen, that there can be no mistake as to where we are. This is Faneuil Hall—filled as it woe wont to be in the time of our fathers-- filled as we have seen it in our day--filled as we hope to see it by our children, with men met to gether to consult upon the measures to be pursued for the benefit and to protect the hest interest of our common country. He had not been willing to de cline the invitation of thy committee to address his fellow citizens on this occasion. This was truly a crisis. He alluded to the fact that year after year, for the last eighteen or twenty years, there had been some object of importance—some general topic of great interest, respecting the internal policy of the government—agitating the public mind to make a crisis, and ho would now nay a few words on the present posture of affairs. He referred to the immediate election which was to take place, and remarked that if there was any well founded ob jection to the present Executive of this State, it had failed to reach his care. , One meet prominent duty of the general govern ment was tr manage the foreign relations of the country, and the prepr management Of them was, .itt a peculiar manner, of the utmost importance at tLe present moment. But there was one subject exciting interest .or, of a hature so .delicate and importaneti, the peace ttr.d happiness or the coun try, that it was not easy to speak of it inn public assembly, ,and it woe necessary to treat it with great care and discretion. , ~ _ The preservation of pecco on honorable terms wee at rill times an object itself highly desirable, but between two countries intimately connected, between two great commercial countries, peace should never be lightly nor caueelessly disturbed. lle would say a word or two on a subject which within a few days had created considerable alarm. He alluded to Oregon. He asked, what is this question! How does it stand! It was not neces sary to go into a - history of its discovery, and the rights of the different parties of claimants. It was enough to nay that the proper settlement of its houndarice had been in dispute for nearly 40 years, There was now considerable alarm as to what measures one side cr the tither, the United States or Great Britain might, take, and as to the come quences which might ensue. The settlement of the claim to Oregon had al ways been and still was a matter to ho settled by negotiation. By a convention between the two countries there bad been a joint occupancy, fir.t to 1818; then it was renewed for ten years, and then again indefinitely, each party agreeing to give no lice to the other when the arrangement should cease. That notice has never yet been given by I either party, and the subject of the settlement is still open to both, according to a treaty stipulation. Mr. Webster wished to speak very cautiously, and hoped that the utmost care would be taken that he should not be misunderstood. He would say, what all knew, that this is a subject for negotia tion, for discussion, for amicable settlement—it al ways has been so. In this spirit, the government of thin country has several times, in 1818, 1824, and 1826.propored a line of division for a cempro misc, for diecussion, &c. , . , Mr, Webster alluded to the. discussion which took place in the British Parliament, on. the recep tion of President Polk's message on this .subject, the reports of which he. had read with intense in terest; and he twist say • that the remarke of the British minister on that occasion were such as were proper, and made in a temper beceming large. minded, liberal statesman. lie was disposed to adopt the words of the English minister on that occasion, who Said that England hal rights that . Might to be.,and ,riist be, respected . . He (M r . Webster) would say that this country had rights which ought to be, which should be, and which must be reapected. he would not express an opinion as. to the manner in which this could be settled, but ho had no doubt it could be settled hon crably and securely to the rights of all parties, Mr. Webster alluded to the situation of the country of Oregon. which was three thousand miles from the United States and twice as many from ,England; that in the course of a few years, probably within !he knowledge of many now pres ent, it would be settled by fifty to a hundred thou sand people, mostly trom this country, and a great ninny front Great Britain—all, at any rate, Anglo- Saxons. The period, then, is not far distant when, from the shores of Western America, we should see springing up a great Pacific republican nation. which would not consent to acknowledge allegiance either to•thia country or to England, thg this great republic would probably adopt all the great priori-' plea which we hove inherited front our fathers. He would not undertake to any where • .it would be located, whether on the Columbia ,rlwer,,or further south, but that a great and ir,dependent nation would arise on the shores of the Pacific, and at a period not so remote as many persons might sup. pose, ho was confident. He deprecated, then, all stormy defiance on our side, as well as all reference on the other to the great maudlin° power of Eng land, both of which promised only all the horrors of war, against which the spirit of the age was al together opposed. The settlement of the different claims of the two eountries then, should be a matter office and fair and amicable arrangement, the lino of. division should be drawn so that we should go along side by side in a straight litre to the Pacific, not only to the foot of the Rocky .Mountains, but. oVer the Rocky Mountain.. He would give no opinion as to what that line should be, but the United States had repeatedly, in 1818, in 1824 and. in 1826, pro posed the 49th degree of latitude, and thia offer on our part was an admission that it was a subject to negotiate about, and not a matter entirely free from difficulty. Mr. Webster neked who. wee the num in either country who was ready to bring about a war oil this question until he was ready to show that all other reruns of settlement had been tried in vain? Whoever ha might be, whether President or Eng lish Premier, he could not, without be was able to show that all other means had been tried and failed, plunge the two Countries iir'to war and hold his shaking positron an hoot ,afterwards. Whoever should thus light up the flames of war would kindle a conflagration that would extend over the whole globe; he must look out for It, and expect to ho consumed in a conflagration of public opinion. He deprecated any alarm on this subject, and alluded to the excitement which had been kindled at the south, and regretted the cause of it; it should be considered and discussed in a cool and calm man- He said that much of the speculation on this sub ject was but the exhibition of a great deal of pa triotism en a small scale, and that all such would tend to unsettle business; that threats and anticipa tions of war produce half as Much mischief as war itself. \W hat we want is a settled peace. All speculations having for their object the rupture of our peaceful reldtions were leading to consequen ces which no man could control. Ho would adopt the motto of a former President of the United States, and ask for nothing but what is right, while he would submit to nothing that was wrong, and he would not make any particular parade of pa triotism for the sake. °refract. , Mr. Webster then alluded to the Tariff, an:at 7 tempt to repeal or alter which, it is supposed, will be matte at the coining session of Congress. How far it would succeed he could not toll. but Ito asked what we in Massachusetts. could expect to,gain by any change in the law of 1842. Ile coccidered the great question to bc, is the laboring man well on; ere wages high, are the people in a goad condition. We have been referred by the locofoeo party to the great manufacturing places of Lowell, and Spring field,end Dover, but ho would remark that if the tariffshould be destroyed, these places and the rich manufacturers would not sailer the most; it was the shop manufacturer, the makers of bouts, and hats, and clothes, he., who would suffer, and if the tariff of 1842 should be destroyed, not one of those who now lived by their labors on the bench or at the anvil, could exist a twelve month. j He referred to the peptilar fallacy of an Id rale ,' rem duty being better and more equal than a spedi- I I fie duty, end said that from. the time of IN.'ashing ton down to the present day, all our tariffs had re stilted in an Average ad valorem duty of 34 pee cent, and that according to tin sliding horizontal scale of free trade; eo much boasted of, so often spo ken of in England, it had been demonstrated that to this day the tyrill of England produced oh aver age ad ruk4,, dory of 49 per cent. It was !die then to talk 4q act ralor . ent duty of 20 per cent. Mr. I.‘ cbster alluded to the seperate organiza tion of the Liberty end the Native American par. tier. The former had voted against us at the last election, and by adhering to Mr: Dirney, bad elect ed Mr. Palk, and secured.the annexation,of Texas, which they moressed to deprecate.. The lett& were hone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh; Ito asked what they expected to accomplish; they cart not elect their members of Congress, and he asked if they wanted to accomplish any thing that he had pot striven to accomplish, if they would go further than he in the cherished object of protecting Amer ica. arid native American rights, within the limits of the Constitution, • (Some one in the crowd, bald, Good Native, Daniel.) Mr. Webster said, I think I am. I will go as far as the farthest in the cause. He said that every vote thrown on Monday next, for any other than the whig candidates, would de prive the Whigs of so much power to accomplish the wishes and objects of the native Americans; that every man should vote censcientiouely, and that although every ono had a right to vote as he pleased, he has no right, more than a juror who gives a verdict an his oath, to vote contrary to what he knew to be for the support of true principles. He concluded by exhorting every one to go to tho polls on Monday next and vote the whig ticket; to lay aside every other occupation, until that duty wee accomplished, that abet that day, when tht e3 , 41.=1 question should be asked from Rhode Island to Georgia, and to Wisconsin, how does Massachu setts stand, we may be able to answer proudly, look at her, and see hnw she sten& Another Great Fire , Bag Harbor in Ruins! —One hundred Aortae.. two Hotels, and the Bank burned!—By the Long Island train of last evening, we have information di a most disastrous fire at Sag Harbor, equal in ex. tent, its comparison with the size of the town, to the hre at Pittsburg, Quebec. or the Now York, conflagration... Mr. Tucker, the conductor of the Long Island road,. who obtained•all the informatiou practicable in the confusion, states that the fire broke out on Tuesday night about 9 o'clock, et which time the wind watt blowing a gale.--The fire originated in a wooden building, and Soot& ex.. tended to more than one hundred houses, (one ac- count says ono hundred and seventy) which were entirely consumed. ,Arinimg the buildings burned was the Suffolk Co. Bank, and, both of the hotels. The loss in buildings is variously stated at $lOO,- 000 a $150,000, while the loss in merchandizo cannot yet be, estimated, but must be very large. The portion burned was the best business part of the town, and has cast a shade over its prospects that will not, we fear, coon lie removed. Among the greatest sufferers we hear the names of Messrs. Huntley & Mullbrd, so extensively known in the whaling trade, in New York. We do not (leer that any oil was burnt, or that any damage wan done to the shipping, of which, however, thete wee fortunately butiew sail in port. So great a cola pally lies not visited a small town in a lung time, nor one that will cause more distress to its mercan tile citizens. The train of to-night will bring the Iparticulars, which will be looked for with touch M wrest, as the property is insured here, and the bus iness of Sag Harbor more closely connected with this city than elsewhere.-- N. Y. Express. A Nappy A friend once told me, that, amongst other aym, toms of high nervous excitement, he hod been pain fully haryassed for the want of sleep, To such a de gree° had this proceeded, that if, in the course of the day, any occasion led hitn to.his bed-chamber, the sight of his bed made hini shudder ut the idea of the restless hours he had pecsed upon a—ln this case it was recommended to kiln to endeavor to fix his thoughts on arorAing, at the name titan vast and simple—such as the wide, espouse of the ocean, or the cloudless vault of heaven—that Om little hurried and disturbing images that flitted be fore his mind, might be charmed away, or hushed I to rest by the calming influences of one absorbing thought. Though not at all a religious man at the time, this edvico suggested to his mind, that if aft ebject at once vast and simple . weS to be selected, no one could care his purpose so well as that of God, liaresolveti to make the trial, and think ui Him.. The result exceeded his Most sanguine hopes; in thinking of God he fell asleep. Night otter night he resorted to the same expedient. The process became delightful; so much so, that he used to long for the usual time of retiring, that he might fall asleep, as Ito termed it, in God. What began as a mere physical operation, grew, by impercepta tile degrees, into a glacions influence. The Wes God who was hie repose by night, wee in all kis thought. by day. From the U. 8. Gazette. Camp at Corpus Christi, We hue the following letter from a medical gen tleman of the army, which does mit c'eern to indi• cote much sickness: My. Dear.Sit; 7 -Cast your eye over the mop and you will see our present location on the Bay of Aransas., Under order* to report at the head guar tors of General Taylor for duty with the Army of Occupation, I left Plattshorg Bu rn a m N. Y ., on the 12th of August last, end on the 24111 emarlred at New York, on board the ship Pacific with a de tsehmeilt.of flying artillery, and after a voyage of twenty-five days landed upon the halo of St. Joseph. in Aransas Bay, and in ten lays thereafter, rrpair ed here, and was assigned to. duty with the 2d Regt. U. S. Dragoons, as senior medical officer of that corps. We are here encamped on a plain of some lies miles in extent—the chelly morem of the b o y. Some three miles, of canvass make up our comp, which is .the largest pitched, of regular troops, since I have been in the service. Thu ground is favorable—the !Ay shore on the east and a ridge of hills west; but we are badly off for fresh water, and woud is sot plenty. No movement in contem plated, and warlike operations not expected. In deed, Mexico is in no situation to proceed against no; and I believe Texas will be annexed with tho Rio Grande as a boundary west of the Untied States. The country is not popnlotra hereabouts, and the few inhabitants are a low order of Sranisb, Mexicans, living pastorally with immense Hooke and herds. Truly each droves of tattle and horses I have never before seen. The latter varied ir, price before the Army arrived from one to five dol lars, but now the price is enhonred to from five to twenty! Rvery body rides at such a rate! crpHusbsnd, do you helices in special judg• ments of Providence, upon individuals in this lifo? .Yea, my deat.' .Do you indeed? Did one of the judamente one happen to you?' .Yea, my love.' , When was it, htut4endl' 'When 1 married yov my (leer.'