S,tot• Si; tio,stlititast ilitst*tt VOL. 6--NO. 19.1 THE GARLAN-D. ---"With sweetest flowers enrich'd, From various gardens cull'd with care." FROM 91iE WREATH. Addrelde of DUMOURIEZ to the French Army, before the Battle of Gemappe. Lo! -Europe from her fetters breaks, And outraged , man at length awakes, 'And fearful retribution takes, For every former injury. Behold! the shudtPring despots quake; Their blood-stain'd thrones beneath them shake; Soon o'er their guilty heads shall break The storm of vengeance fearfully. The fear-struck tyrants trembling sec France regenerate and tree: To quench the flame of Liberty, They madly strive convulsively. Behold! they come—(the hireling slaves!) With onward steps, to find— their graves! In numbers like the Autumn leaves, Like them to fall ingloriously-. Freemen! shall we flißer? No! Arms may faint that strike the blow, Blood in crimson tides may flow, But our souls shall still be free! The slaves! they beat against a rock; Come one, come all, we'll bide the shock; Anti shame to him that turns his back, . The coward's portion, infamy! Frenchmen! 10, the foe draws nigh! Be Liberty your battle cry: Swear to conquer or to d Swear to combat manfully! Let every freeman bare him brand, And in the vaward take his stand, And battle for his native land, For home, for life, and Liberty-, By your race of honor run; By your deeds of glory done; By the freedom you have won, Swear to battle valiantly! Swear that you will ne'er be slaves, Ely your comrades' bloody graves! Where the flag of freedom waves, Swear to live and bleed and die! FrencljniChl .to.tlw„,kattle field, All who can a falqinia wield, Never (halter, never On, on to deatikor victory( Gettysburg. • AN A. SING TREAT. tNO. x.] JAPHET, IN SEARCH OF .A. FATHER. KrCoNTINunu FROM OUR LAST. His lordship gave me the letter of intro duction. I returned to him the sealed pack et, shook hands with him and took my depar ture. "Well, sir," said Timothy, rubbing his hands, as ho stood before me, "what is the news; for I am dying to hear it—,-and what is this secret?" "With regard to the secret, Tim, a secret it must remain. I dare not tell it even to you." Timothy looked rather grave at this reply. "No, Timothy, as a man of honour, I cannot." My conscience smote me when I made use ofthe term; for, as a man of hon our, I had no business to be in possession of it. "My dear Timothy, I have done wrong already, do not ask me to do worse." "I will not, Japhet, but only tell me what has passed, and what you'intend to do 7" "That I will, Timothy, with pleasure;" and I then stated all that had passed between his lordship and me. "And now, you observe, Timothy, I have gained what I desired, an introduction into the best society." "And the means olkeeping up your appea rance," echoed Timothy, rubbing his hands. "A thousand pounds will last a long while.' "It will last a very long while, Tim, for I never will touch it ; it would be swindling." "So it would," replied Tim, his counte nance falling; "well, I never thought of that.' "I have thought of much more, Tim: rec ollect I must in a very short time be exposed to Lord Windermear, for the real Mr. Neville will soon come home." "Goad heavens! what will become airs?" replied Timothy, with alarm in his counte nance. "Nothing can hurt von, Tim, the auger will be all upon me; but I am prepared to face it, and I would face twice as much for the distant hope of finding my father. %1' hat. ever Lord Windermear may feel inclined to do, he can do nothing; and my possession of the secret will ensure even more than my safety; it wall afford me his protection, if I demand it." "I hope it may prove so," replied Timo thy, "but I feel a little frightened." "I do not; to-morrow I shall give my let ter of introduction, and then I will prosecute my search. So now, my dear Tim, good night." The next morning I lost no time i4e sentmg my letter of introduction to or Carbonnell. He lived in apartments on the first floor in St. James's Street, and I found him at breakfast, in a silgoarn . : • I had made up my mind ti inde pendence always carries an air of fashion. When I entered, therefore, I looked at him with a knowing air, and dropping the letter down on the table before him said," There's something for you to read, Major; and in the meantime I'll refresh myself on this chair;" suiting the action to the word, I threw my selfi a chair, amusing myself with tapping th, es of my boots with a small cane which I , /led in my hand. Major Carbennell, upon whom I cast a furtive eye more than once during the time that he was reading the letter, was a person of about thirty-five years of age; well.looking but disfigured by the size of his whiskers, which advanced to the corners of his mouth, and met under his throat. He was tall and well made,with an air of fashion about him that was undeniable. His linen was beau tifullsr clean and carefully arranged, and he had as many rin g s on his fingers, and when he was dressed, c hains and trinkets, as ever were put on by a lady. dear sir, allow mo the honour of making at once your most intimate acquain tance," said he, rising from his chair, and offering hia hand, as soon as he had perused the letter. "Any friend of Lord Winder mear's would be welcome, but when ho brings such an extra recommenJation in his own appearance, he becomes doubly so." 'Major Carbonnell,' replied I,"I have seen you but two minutes, and I have taken n particular fancy to you; in %hich I, no doubt, have proved my discrimination. Of course you know that I have just returned from making a tour?" "So I understand from his lordship's let ter. Mr. Newland, my time is at your W here are you staying?" "At the Piazza." service "Very good; I will dine with you to.day; order Home mulligatawny, they are fiunouß for it. After dinner we will go to the then re." I was rather surprised at his cool manner asking himself to dine with me and order ing my dinner, but a moment's reflection made me feel what sort of person I had to deal with. "Major, I take that as almost an Arent. You will dine with me to day! I beg to state that you must dine with me every day that you are not invited elsewhere; and what's more, sir, I shall be most seriously displeased, if you do not order the dinner every time that you do dine with me, and ask whoever you may think worthy of put• ting their legs under our table. Let's have no doing things by halves, major; I know you now as well as if we had been intimate for ten years." The major seized me by the hand. "My dear Newland, I only wish we ha'l one another ten years, as you say—the loss has been mine; but now—you have break fasted, I presume?" "Yee; having nothing to do, and not know ing a soul after my long absence, 1 advanced my breakfamt about two hours, that I might find ion at home; and now I'm at your service." "Say rather lam at yours. I presume you will walk. In ten minutes I shall he ready. Either take up the paper, or whistle an air or two, or any thing else you like, just to kill ten minutes—and I shall be at your command." "I beg your pardon, Newland," said the major, returning from his dressing-room, I resplendent with chains and bijouterie; •'buit I must have your Christian name." "It's rather a strange ono," replied I; "it is Japhet." "Japhet! by the immortal powers, l'd bring an action against my godfathers and godmothers; you ought to recover heavy damages." "Then I presume you would not have the name," replied I, with p knowing look, "for a clear ten thousand a year." "W hew! that alters the cause—it's aston ishing how . well any name looks in large gold letters. Well, as the old gentleman, whoever he might have been, made you compensation, you must forgive and forget. Now where shall we go?" "With your permission, as, I came to town in these clothes, made by a German tailor—Darmstadt's tailor by-the-by—but still if tailor to a prince, not the prince of tailors—l would wish you to take me to your own; your dress appears very correct." "You show your judgment, Newland, it is correct; Stultz will be delighted to have your name on his books, and to do justice to that figure. Allons done." ' We sauntered up St. James's Street, and before I had arrived at Stultz'a I had been introduced to at least twenty of the young men about town. The major was most particular in his direction about the Clothes, all of which he ordered; and as I knew that he was well acquainted with the fashion, I gave him carte blanche. When he left the shop, he said, "Now, my dear Newland I have given you a proof of friendship which no other man in England has had. Your dress will be the ne plus ultra. There are little secrets only known to the initianed, & Stultz is aware that this time I ain in earn est. I am often asked to do the same for others, and I pretend so to do, but a wink from me it sufficient, and Stultz dares not dress them. Don't you want some bijouterie? or have you any at home?" may as well have a few tt dies,' replied I. We entered a celebrated jeweller's, and he selected for me to the amount of about forty pounds. "That will do—never buv much; for it is necessary to change every three months at least. What is the price of this chain?" 4 . "It is only fifteen guineas, major:" "Well,l shall take it; hut recollect," con• tinned the major; "I tell you honestly, I never shall pay you." The jeweller smiled, bowed, and laughed; the major threw the chain round his neck, and we quitted the shop. "At all events, major, they appear not to believe your word in that shop." "My dear fellow, that's their own fault, not male. I tell them honestly I never will pay them; and you may depend upon it I intend most sacredly to keep my word. I never do pay any body, for the best of all possible reasons, I have no money; but then I do them a service--I make them fashion. able, and they know it." "What debts do you pay then, major?" "Let me think—that requires considera tion. Oh! I pay my washer-woman." "Don't you pay your debts of honour?" "Debts of honour! why I'll tell you the truth; for I know that we shall hunt m cou ples. if I win I take the money; but ill lose—why then I forget to pay; and I always 87 ROBERT WHITE LIZIDIDIZTOII, MIDITO.II, 1 5 7331.11CEM1P. AND PROPRIETOR. "I WISH NO OTHER HERALD, NO OTHER SPEAKER OF NY LIVING ACTIONS, TO KEEP MINE HONOR FROM CORRUPTION."-SHAHS. allß&Witigialealts wt.. amypaxiaura ateimow ao. aue. tell them so before I ,sit down to the table. If they won't believe me, it's not my fault. But what's the hour? Come; I must make a few calls, and will introduce you." We sauntered on to Grosvenor Square, knocked, and were admitted into a large, elegantly furnished mansion. The footman announced us—"My dear Lady Maelstrom, allow me the honour of introducing to you my very particular friend, Mr. Newland, consigned to my charge by my Lord Win derniear during his absence. He has just ar rived from the continent,where he has been making the grand tour." Her ladyship honoured me with a smile. "By•the.by, major, that reminds me—do me the favour to come to the window. Ex etwe. us one moment, Mr. Newland." The major and lady Maelstrom walked to the window, and exchange a few sentences, and then returned. Her ladyship, holding up her finger, and saying to him as they came towards me, "Promise me now that you won't forget." "Your ladyship's slightest wishes are to me imperative commands,'' replied the ma jor, with a graceful how. In a quarter of an hour, during which the conversation was animated, we rose to take our leave,when her ladyship came'up Io me, and offering her hand, said, "Mr. Newland, the friendship of Lord Windermear, and the introduction of Major Carbonnell, are more than sufficent to induce me to put your name down on my visiting list. I trust I shall see a great deal of you, and that we shall be great friends." I bowed to this handsome announcement, and we retired. As soon as we were out in the square, the major observed, "You saw her take me on one side—it was to pump. She has no daughters, but about fifty nieces, and match-making is her delight. I told her that I would stake my honour upon your possessing ten thousand a year; how touch more I could not say. I was not far wrong, was I?" • 1 laughed. "What I may be worth, major, I really cannot say; but I trust that the event will prove that you are not far wrong. Say no more, my dear fellow." "I understand—you are not yet of age— of course have not yet come into possession of your fortune." "That is exactly the case, major. lam now but little more than nineteen." "You look older; but there is no getting over baptismal registries with the executors. Newland, you must content yourself for the two next years in playing Moses, and only peep at the promised land." .....I.Vie.cmurde two or three more calls, and then reitirned to St. James's Street, "where shall we go now'? By-the-by, don't you want to go toirur banker's?" "I will just stroll down with you, and see if they have paid any money in," replied I carelessly. We called at Drummond's and I asked them if there was any money paid in to the credit of Mr. Newland. "Yes sir," replied one of the clerks; "there is one thousand pounds paid in yesterday." "Very good," replied 1. "How much do you wish to draw for?" en quired the major. "I don't want any," replied 1. "I have more money than I ought to have in my desk at this moment." "Well, then, let us go and order dinner; or perhaps you would like to stroll about a little more; if so, I will go and order the dinner. Here's Harcourt, that's luck). Her court, my dear fellow, know Mr. Newland, my very particular friend. I must leave you now; take his arm, Harcourt, for half an hour,and then join us at dinner at the Piazza.' Mr. Harcourt was an elegant young man of about five and twenty. Equally pleased with each other's externals, we were soon famil iar: he was witty, sarcastic, and well-bred. After half an houi's conversation he asked me what I thought of the major. I looked him in the time, and smiled. "That look tells me that you will not be his dupe, other. wise I had warned you: he is a strange char acter; but if you have money enough to afford to keep him, you cannot do better, as he is acquainted with,and received by,every body. His connections are good; and he once had a very handsome fortune, but it was soon run out, and he was obliged to sell his commission in the Gaurds. Now he lives upon the world; which, as Shakspeare says, is his oyster; and he has wit and sharp ness enough to open it. Moreover, he has some chance of falling into a peerage; that prospect, and his amusing qualities, added to his being the most fashionable man about town, keeps his head above water. I believe Lord Windermear, who is his cousin, very often helps him." "It was Lord Windermear who introduc me to him," observed I. "Then he will not venture to play any tricks upon you, further than eating your dinners, borrowing your money, and forget- ting to pay it." "You must acknowledge," said I, "he al ways tells you beforehand that he Will never pay you." "And that is the only point in which he adheres to ,his word," replied ,Harcourt, laughing; "hut, tell me, am I to be your guest to.slayl" - "If you will do me that honour." "I assure you I am delighted to come, as shall have a further opportunity ofcultiva ingyour acquaintance." "Then we had better bend our steps to- wards the hotel, for it is late," replied 1; and we did so accordingly. On our arrival we found the table spread, champagne in, ice under the sideboard, and apparently every thing prepared for a sump tuous dinner, the major on the sofa giving directions to the waiter, and Timothy look ing all astonishment. "Major," said I, "I cannot tell you how much 1 am obliged to you for your kindness in taking all this trou ble off my hands, that I might follow up the agreeable introduction you have given me to Mr. Harcourt." "My dear Newland, say no more; you will, I dare say, do the same for me if I re quire it, when I give a dinner. (Harcourt caught my eye, as if to say, " You ma} promise that.") But, Newland, do you know that the nephew of Lord Windermear has just arrived? Did you meet abroad?" "No," replied I, somewhat confused; but I soon recovered myself. - As for Tim, he bolted out of the room. " What sort f a person is he?" "That you may judge for yourself, my dear fellow, for I asked him to join us, I must say, more out of compliment to Lord Windertnear than any thing else; for I am afraid that even I could never make a gentle. man of him. But take Harcourt with you . to your room, and by the time you have washed your hands, I will have dinner on the table. I took the liberty of desiring your valet to show me in about ten minutes ago. He's a shrewd fellow that of yours, where did you pick him up 1" "By mere accident," replied I; "come, Mr. Harcourt." On our return we found the real Simon Pure Mr. Estcourt, sitting with the major, who Introduced us, and dinner being served, we sat down to table. Mr. Estcourt was a young man, about my own age; but not so tall by two or three inches. His features were prominent, hot harsh; and when I saw him, was not at all surprised at Lord Windermear's expressions of satisfaction, when he supposed that I was his nephew. His countenance was dogged and sullen, and he spoke little; he appeared to place an immense value upon birth, and hardly deigned to listen, except the aristoc racy were the subject of discourse. I trea ted him with marked deference, that I might form an acquaintance, and found, before we parted that night, that I had succeeded. Our dinner was excellent, and we were all, except Estcourt, in high good tumour. We sat late—too late to go to the theatre, and promising to meet next the day at noon, Her court and the major took their leave. Mr. Eatcourt had indulged rather too much &after theirdeparture became commu nicative. We sat up tor more than an hour; he talked of nothing but his family and his e*pentittiont7. I took this opportunity ofdis cove-ring what his feelings were likely to be when he was made acquainted with the im portant secret which was in my possession. I put a case somewhat similar, and asked him whether in such circumstances he would waive his right for a time, to save the honour of his family. "No, by G—d !" replied he, "I never would. What! give up even for a day my right—conceal my true rank for the sake of relatives? never— nothing wobld induce me." I was satisfied, and then casually asked him if ho had written to Lord Windermear to inform him of his arrival. "No," replied he; "I shall write to-morrow." Ho soon after retired to his own apartment, and I rang for Timothy. "Good heavens, sir!" cried Timothy, "what is all this—and what are you about? I am frighten ed out of my wits. Why, sir, our money will not last two months." "I do not expect it will last much longer, Tim; but it cannot be helped. Into society I must get, and to do so, must pay for it." "But, sir, putting the expense aside, what are we to do about this Mr. Estcourt ? All must bo found out." "I intend that it shall be found out, Tim," re plied I; "but not yet. He will write to his uncle to•morrow; you must obtain the letter, for it must not go. I must first have time to establish my. self, and then Lord Windermear may find out his error as soon as he pleases." "Upon my honour, Japhet, you appear to be a fraid of nothing." "1 fear nothing, Tim, when I am following up the object of my wishes. I will allow no obsta cles to stand in my way, in my search after my father." "Really, you seem to beguile mad on that point, Japhet." "Perhaps I may be, Tim," replied I, thought. fully. "At all events, let us go to bed now, and I will tell you tomorrow morning, all the events of this day." Mr. Estcourt wrote his letter, which Tim very officiously offered to put into the post, instead of which we put it between the bars of the grate. I must now pass over about three weeks, during which I became vety intimate with the major and Mr. Harcourt, I was introduced by them to the clubs, and almost every person of fashion. The idea of my wealth, and my very handsome person and figure, ensured me a warm reception, and I soon became one of the stars of the day. During this time 1 also gained the entire confidence of Mr. Estcourt, who put letter after letter Into the hands of Timothy, who, of course, put them into the usual place. I pacified him as long as I could, by expressing my opinion, that his lordship was on a visit to some friends in the neighbour. hood of hie seat; but at last he would remain in town no longer. You may go now, thought 1, I feel quite safe. It was about five days after his departure, as I was sauntering, arm in arm, with the main:, who generally dined with me about five days in the week, that I perceived the carriage of Lord Win. dermear, with his lordship in it. lie saw us, and , pulling his check-string, alighted, and coming up to us, with the colour mounting to his forehead with emotion, returned the salute of the major and me. "Major," said he, "you will excuse me, but I am anxious to have some conversation with Mr. Newland; perhaps," continued his lordship, ad. dressing me, "you will do me the favour to take a seat in my carriage?" Fully prepared, I lost none of my self-posses sion, but, thanking his lordship, I bowed to him, and stepped in. His lordship followed, and say ing to the footman, "Home—drive fast," fell back into the carriage, and never uttered one word un. til we had arrived, and had entered the dining_ parlour. He then took a few steps up , and down, before he said, "Mr. Newland, or whatever your name may be, 1 perceive that you consider the possession of an important secret to be your safe guard. To state my opinion of your conduct is needless; who you are, and what you aro, I know not; but," continued te, no longer controlling his anger; "you certainly can have no pretensions to the character of a gentleman." "Perhaps your lordship," replied 1, calmly, "will Inform ma upon what you may ground your inference." "Did you not, in the first place, open a letter addressed to another 7" "My lord, I opened a letter brought to me with the initials of my name, and at the time I opened it, I fully believed that it was intended for me." "We will grant that, sir; but after you had open ed it, you must have known that It was for some other porsnn." "1 will not Amy that, my lord." "Notwithstanding which, you apply to my lawyer, representing yourself as another person, to obtain sealed papers." "I did, my lord; but allow me to say. that I ne. vor should have done so, bad I not been warned by a dream." "By a dream!" "Yes, my lord. I had determined not to go for them, when in a dream I was ordered so to do." "Paltry excuse! and then you break privato seals." "Nay, my lord, although I did go for the papers, I could not, oven with the idea of supernatural in. terposition, make up my mind to break the seals. If your lordship will recollect, it was you who broke the seals, and insisted upon my reading the papers." "Yes, sir, under your false name." "It is the name by which I go at present, al though I acknowledge it is false; but that is no my fault—l have no other at present." "It levery true, air, that in all I have now mon. tionod, tho law will not reach you; but recollect, that by assuming another person's name—" "I novor did, my lord," interrupted I. "Well, I may say, by inducing me to believe that you were my nephew, you have obtained mo. ney under false pretences; and for that I now have you in my power " "My lord, I never asked you for the money; you yourself paid a into the banker's hands, to my credit, and to my own name. I appeal to you now, whether, after you so deceived yourself, the law can reach me 7" "Mr. Newland, I will say, that much as I re gret what has passed, I covet more than all the rest, that one so young, so pre t iossessing, so can. did In appearance, should prove such an adopt in deceit. Thinking you were my nephew,my heart warmed towards you, and I must contents, that since I have seen my real nephew, the mortifica tion bag been very groat." "My lord,l thank you; but allow me to observe, that lam .no swindler. Your thousand pounds you will find safe in the bank, for penury would not have induced mo to touch it. But now that your lordship appears more cool, will you do me the favor to listen to me? When you have beard my life up to the present, and my motives for what I have done, you will than decide how far I am to blamo." His lordship took a chair, and motioned to me to take another. I narrated whitt had occurred when I was left at the Foundling, and gave him a succinct account of my adventures subsequent ly —my determination to find my father—the dream which induced me to go for the papers— and all that the reader has already been acquain ted with. His lordship evidently perceived the monomania which led me, and timid me with groat attention. "You certainly, Mr. Newland, do not stand so low in my opinion as you did before this explana tion, and I must make allowances for the excite ment under which I perceive you to labor on one subject; but now, sir, allow me to put one question, and beg that you will answer candidly. What price do you demand for your secrecy on this im. portent suhject7" "My lord!" replied I, rising with dignity; "this is the greatest affront you have put upon me yet; still I will name the price by which I will solemn ly bind myself, by all my future hopes of finding my father in this world, and of finding an eternal Father In the next, and that price, my lord, is a return of your good opinion." His lordship also rose, and walked up and down the room with much agitation in his manner.— "W hat am I to make of you, Mr. Newland?" ' "My lord, it I were a swindler, I should have ta ken your money; if I had wished to avail myself of the secret, 1 might have escaped with all the documents, and made my own terms. I am, my lord, nothing more than an abandoned child try ing all he can to find his father." My feelings overpowered me, and I burst into tears. As soon as I could recover myself, I addressed his lordship, who had been watching me in silence, and not without emotion. "I have one thing more to say to you, my lord." I then mentioned the conver elation, between Mr. Estcourt and myself,and poin ted out the propriety of not making him a party to the important secret. His lordship allowed me to proceed without in terruption, and after a few moments' thought,said, "I believe that you are right, Mr. Newland; and I now begin to think that it was better that this se cret should have been entrusted to you than him. You have now conferred an obligation on me and command me. 1 believe you to be honest, but a little mad, and I beg your pardon for the pain which I have occasioned you." "My lord, I am more than satisfied." "Can I be of any assistance to you,Mr. Newland?" "lf,my lord,you could at all assist me, or direct me in my search—" "Then I am afraid I can be of little use; but I will give you the means of prosecuting your seareb,and in so doing, I am doing but an act of justice, for in intro ducing you to Major Carbonnell, I am aware that I must have very much iucreased your expenses. It was an error which must be repaired, and therefore, Mr. Newland, I beg you will consider the money at the bank as yonrs,and make use of it to enable you to obtain your ardent wish." "My lord—" "I will not be denied,Mr. Newland; and if you feel any delicacy on the subject,you may take it as a loan, to be repaid when you find it convenient Do not, for a moment,consider that it is given to you because you possess an important sccret,for I will trust entirely to your honor on that score." "Indeed,my lord," replied I, "your kindness over.. whelms me,and I feel as if,in you, I had already almost found a father. Excuse me,my lord,butdid your lord ship ever—ever---',' "I know what you would say,my poor fellow: no I never did. I never was blessed with children. Had I bcen,l should not have felt I was disgraced by hav ing one resembling you. Allow me to entreat you, Mr. Newland, that you do not suffer the mystery of, your birth to weigh so heavy on your mind; and now I wish you good morning, and if you think I can be useful to you, I beg that you will not fail to let me I know." "May heaven pour down blessings on your head." replied I, kissing respectfully his lordship's hand "and may my father,when I find him, be as like unto you as possible." I made my obeisance, and quitted the house. [TO DE CONTINUED.] SCAN MAO.-A witness lately examined before a judge in a case of slander,was requested to repeat the . . . precise words spoken. The witness hesitated until he rivetted the attention of the whole court upon hiM, then fixing his eyes earnestly upon the judge, he be gan—" May it please your honor,you fisand stent,and get your living by thieving." The face of the judge reddened, and he immediately exclaims:4"nm to tht Jury, &id" [WHOLE NO. 279. THE MIRROR. Selected for the Star & Republican Banner. A SILETOI%. Imagine for yourselves a picture of the Chris:: ban rumsoller's premises. Early some Monday morning, you station yourself, a mote spectator; in his grog•shop, or as he would call tt, his grocer. , ry and tavern. He is really a benevolent, good natured looking fellow;; has laid aside, with his Sunday coat, that long sanctimonins face you ob. served yesterday,and has ittatead . a hundred smiled ready for the reception of the first customer. Hie elegantly arranged tirades are filled to the briny anew; the Saturday night's debauch, hiving drained them quite to the bottom. Presently the' hinges creak, the door opens, and in stalks a well. known personage, himself also a professed Christ. , tian. He salutes the rum seller, with - 'Brother, dicrnt you think we had a most - poW• erful sermon yesterday?" '•lndeed I did,"" is AO reply, "and my head bled within me to think of the situation of poor sinners!" "And so did mine, tont the Lord is Inetcyfulo I'll take a little of your St. Croix, neighbor." "Certainly—yea, the Lord is merciful !" Long use has made him a dexterous hand in dealing out the article, and his brother is soon supplied. lie pockeos the sixpence arid the door opens with another customer, one whose stops is always known. "I say, landlord," cries the man, with a horrid oath, "I'll take a little of your rye; a little drop of' the good creature won't hurt any body; the devil take those temperance societies! " "So I say, too," responds the rom.seller, as he' hands down the bottle. His company begins td increase, and all charaCters and ages aro flocki ng to his counter; the young man just. commencing' his downward career—the old hoary.headed vete ran trembling on the brink of the grave—the moo Berate drinker and the inveterate drunkard—the man of wealth and the man of rags. One man steps up to the counter with his friend, his eon perhaps; another insists that the landlord, who id nothing loth, shall drink with him; one man takes down his draught in sullen silence; another must deliver himself of ei half dozen oaths, by way of cleating his throat, or perhaps a Bacchanalian song. Presently a poor woman enters, the wife of one of his regular customers, with an interest. mg child in her arms, and the exclaims in the language of entreaty—‘ "Landlord, I have come to ask you not to sell my husband any more spirits; he has beggared me and my child, and this morning says he will sell the last bag of meal we have for more drink:" The tears gush into her eyes and the rum , eel ler says he will see to it. "Poor man," is his pi ous ejaculation, "I fear he will sink to perdition!" Scarcely however has she left the room,before tho bag ot meal is deposited, and the drunken husband is sipping down a part of the proceeds. As evening approaches, his customers continue to assemble, and after paying their respects to his bottles, seat themselves around the room In. little groups, for conversation. Ono group , is cursing the temperance societies; another swearing about priestcraft and fanaticism; another is ljetening to a noted story teller} another hearing a sent'. mental song, and another with a good deal of ve hemence is discussing some disputed religious topic. "Landlord," mays one, of the loot group, "do you 'toots a Bible heroP' • "Oh, certainly, certainly, sir; it is my constant companion." "And so am shouts an old grog.bruisei, at the top ofhis voice, starting upat this strange dia logue, while the room re-echoes with laughter,and for once the rum-selling Christian is put to the blush. As the evening wears away, moat of his customers gradually disappear. The remnant, who are too much intoxicated to help themsolvea out, are forcibly ejected into the street, while the rum-seller retires to his house to count over his gains, repeat his harmless prayers and adjourn to bed. Such is but a faint picture of the rum-selling Christian's constant employment. Were it my province to address them as a public teacher, I would say to them,"Cease to desecrate and add infamy to the riamefChriatian. Abandon at once, either your traffic or all pretensions to this sacred title." A rum-seller could not be a Mahomettm, and should he bo a Christian? Brockport, April, 1835. E. W. H. E. The Lexington Intelligencer of the 7th inst. says, "we understand that -H. CLAY, Esq., sold to SPENCER COOPER, Esq., a few days ago, one of the improved short horn cows, with a calf one day old, by ac commodation, for $5OO, but she is said to be unsurpassed in pedigree and promise. Be fore the cow and calf were removed from Ashland, Mr. COOPER Sold the calf, deliver ed at weaning, to Maj. S. SMITH, for $2OO. A HOPEFUL SON.—"Papa, " said a little boy to his father the other day, "when one fellow strikes another, haint he got no right to strike back ?" "Certainly he has," re plied the father, "the law of self defence sanctions it." "Well then I'll tell you what it is," said the boy, "the next time you box my ears, I'll hit you a devil of a blow under the fifth rib." The father laughed heartily, and the next day related the anecdote to one of his neighbors. The following i says a late English paper, is a verbatim copy of a note sent to our prin ter this week :—'Sur, 1 wish you would put my darter into your paper, as was married on Saturday last, to --, her and Hur hus. band guy a ball to hall the workmen, and there was 4 musishunners•to mak • urn mer ry with plenty of eider and licket,'---Your servant,—.' "Have yotr heard the news, aunt Dolly?" said a little ragged urchin, running into the house. "No, deary." "Well, tell it to you, aunty.' - "What is it, my little wan ?". "You know our Frank run away and went to sea?" "Yes." "Well, the French, - it is said, are going to pay 25,000,000 of Franks belonging to us, and I guess aunty, our Frank will be , a. mong them." Hiram Brink, of Broome county, N. T., has been sentenced to six month. imprison. ment and $25 fine, for breaking the tech bone of an ox,wheraby the animal wee kined.s
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers