*tar 41‘ Ittlastislitet Sammy VOL. 6--NO. 46.] H a A RL N D . sweetest flowers enrieli'd, From various gardens coll'd with care." FOR TIIE GETTYSTURO &TAR AND BANNER Ma MIDDLETON—The 10110 Wing lines, written by Mrs. SHARP, of Cumberland county, on the death of Mrs WILSON, who accompanied her husband, Rev. Henry T Varian, as a Missionary to Heathen lands, ap. peared a short time since in the "Presbyterian."— You will confer a favor on many of your readers, by giving them a place in your paper—and oblige QN THE DEATH OF DIRS. WILSON LABOURING alone, among a savage race, Far from his early friends, and native place, Wilson, our own devoted WU!. Ws left. Of the loved partner of his toils, bereft; 'Twas here, with him to think, withhim to feel, Like him, inspired, with missionary zeal, She strove, by mental and corporeal toil, To make the barren wilderness to smile; To nue great purpose both their efforts tend, Oh! it was sad to part with such a friend. Yet, let not hopeless grief, his hear' involve, There is a union death cannot dissolve: The cause, to which the Christian's heart is given Is. most emphatically, the cause of heaven. And, can admission to that glorious place. Cap the beholding Jesus face to face, An interest in his blessettwork, decrease: To spirits, so benevolent and kind, From all that's gross and selfish quite refined, Who full salvation by experience know, From deep depravity, al d endless wo? Must not Christ's person and his work appear, Lovely and grand, past our conception herd Even, while she tenanted a house of clay, She was attracted, by a heavenly ray, To the Redeemer; He her joy has been, Seen through a glass and only darkly seen. Thrice happy woman! it twas thine, to prove By deeds to the Redeemer's cause, thy love; The daughters of the church should ne'er forget, The bright example it was thine to set; But, each endeavour in her proper sphere, To aid a cause to God and man so dear. What shame it on professors must reflect, Should they their missionary friends neglect: Should wordly schemes or luxuries supplant, Vigorous endeavours, to supply their want; Who go according to our lord's command, And carry gospel light-to every land. How beautiful! upon the monvins, are The feet of those who the gladlidinga bear: Alas! how cold, how selfish, is the heart, Which, in the world's salvation, takes no part How gracious is the promise of our Lord, The smallest willing service, to reward; A cup of water, may this promise claim, Given, for his sake, in a disciple's name; Let our ability be small or much, Let but the love of Christ the bosom touch, And streams or rivers will he seen to flow, To bless and fructify this world of woe Cumberland Cofinty THE REPOSITORY. THE THREE CUTTERS [Dv THE AUTHOR OF "JAPHET."] CHAPTER I--CUTTER THE FIRST READER, have you over been at Plymouth? If you have, your eye must have dwelt with ecstacy coon the beautiful property of the Earl of Mount Edgcumbo: if you have not boon at Plymouth, the 'sooner that you go there, the bettor. At Mount Edgeumhe you will behold the finest tam. bur in existence, towering up to the summits of the hills, and feathering down to the shingle on the beach. And from this lovely spot you will witness one of the most splendid panoramas in the world. • You will see—l hardly know what you will not see—yon will see Rum Head, and Cawriand Bay; and then you will see the Break - water, and Drake's Island, and the Devil's Bridge below you; and the town of Plymouth and its Ibr tifications, and the Hoe; and then you will come to the Devil's Point, round which the tido runs devilish strong; and then you will see the New Victualling Oflice,—about which Sir James Gor• don used to stump all day, and take a pinch of snuff from every man who carried a box, which all wore delighted to give, arid he was delighted to receive, proving how much pleasure may be communicated merely by a pinch of snuff—and then you will see Mount Wise and Mutton Cove; the town of Devonport, with its magnificent dock yard and arsenals, North Corner, and the way which loads to Saltash. And you will see ships building, and ships in ordinary; and ships repair ing, and ships fitting; and hulks and convict ships, and the guard ships: slues ready to sail and ships under sail; besides lighters, man-of war's boats, dock-yard boats, bum-boats, and obese boats. In short, there is a great deal to see at Plymouth beside the sea itself': but what I particularly wish now, IR, that you should stand at the battery of Mount Edgcumbo and look, into Bern Pool below you, and there yses,wilWeo ly• ing at single anchor, .and yon,may eine see, by her pendant and elision, that she is a yacht. Of all the amusements entered into by the no bility and.gentry of our island, there is not one so manly, so exciting, so patriotic, or so national, as yacht-sailing. It is pecoliiir to England, not only from our Insular position and our fine har bors, but because it requires a certain degree of energy and a certain amount ofincome rarely to be found elsewhere. It has been wisely fostered by our sovereigns, who have felt that the sect::i ty orate kingdom is increased by every men be. ing more or less a sailor, or connected with the nautical profession. It is an amusement of the greatest importance to the country; as it has much improved our ship building and our ship fitting, while it affords employment to our seamen and shipwrights. But ifl were to say all that I could say in praise of yachts ' l should never advance with my narrative. 1 shill! therefore drink a bumper to the health of Admiral Lord Yarbo rough and the Yacht Club,-and proceed. You observe that this yacht is cutter•rigged. and that sire sits gracefully on the smooth wa• tar. She is just heaving up her anchor; her fore Pail is loose, all ready to cast her—in a few min utes she will be under weigh. You 800 that there are some ladies sitting at the tatfrail; and there are five haunches of venison hanging over the stern. Wall ainueements give are yachting But we must go on hoard. The dock, you ob serve, is of narrow deal planks as white as snow; the guns are of polished brass; the bits rind binna• ties of mahogany; she is piinied with taste; and all the mouldings are gilded. There Is nothing wanting; and yet how clear and how unencumber ed are her docks! Let us go below. This is the ladies' cabin: can any thing he more tasteful or elegant? is it not luxurious ? and, although so small, does not its very confined space astonish you, when you view so many comforts so beauti fully arranged? This is- the dining4nom, and whore the gentlemen repair. What can be. more complete or recherche? and just poop into their state•rooms' and bed . -places. Here -is the stew ard's room and the beaufet: the steward is smieex ing lemons for the punch, and there is the chain paigno in ice; and by the side of the pail, tho long corks aro ranged up, all ready. Now, let us go forwards; here are the men's berths, not confined as in a inan.of. war. No ! luxury starts from a. bafl, and is not wholly lost; oven at the forepeak! This is the kitchen.. Is it not admirably arran. gad? What a mu//um in paroo; and how delight ful are the fumes of the turtle-soup ! At sea wo do meet with rough weather at times; but, - for roughing it out, give mea yacht. Now, that I have shown you round the vessel, I must intro duce the parties on board. You observe that florid,handsome man in white trowsers and blue jacket, who has a telescope in one hand, and is sipping a glass of brandy and water which he has just taken off the skylight. That is the owner of the vessel, end a member of the Yacht Club. it is Lord B :ho looks like a sailor,and he dons not much belie his looks; yet I have seen him in his robes of state at the opening of the house of lords. The one near to him is AIN Stewart, a lieutenant in the navy. Ile holds on by the rigging with ono hand, because, having been actively employed all his life, ho does not know what to do with hands which hove nothing in thorn. Ho is a protege of Lord B.; and is now on board as sailing-master of the yacht. A FRIEND That handsome, well built man who is stand ing by the binnacle. isa Mr. Hautaine. Ho sery• ed six years as a midshipman in the navy, and did not like it He then served six years in a cavalry regiment, and did not like it. Ho then married, and, in a much shorter probation, found that lie did not like that. But he is very fond of yachts and other men's wives, if ho does not like his own; and wherever lie goes, ho is welcome. That young man with an embroidered silk waistcoat•and white gloves, bending to talk to ono of the ladies, is a Mr. Vaughan. He is to be seen at Almack's, at Orockford's, and everywhere else. Every body knows him, and he knows every body. He is a little in debt, and yachting is convenient. The one who sits by the lady is a relation of Lord B.; you see at once what he is. Ho apes the sailor: ho has not shaved, because sailors have no time to shave every day; he has not changed his linen, because sailors cannot change every day He has a cigar in his mouth, which makes him and annoys his company. He talks of 'the pleasure of a rough sea, which will drive all the ladies below—and then they will not perceive that ho is more sick than themselves. He has the misfortune to be born to a large estate, and to be a fool. His name is Ossulton. - The last of the gentlemen on hoard whom I have to introduce, is Mr. Seagrove. He is slightly made, with marked features full of intelligence. He has been brought up to the bar; and has every qualification but application. He has never had a brief, nor has he a chance of one; Ho is the fiddler of the company, and he has lucked up his chambers, and come, by invitation of his lordship, to play on board of his yacht. I have yet to describe the ladies—perhaps I should have commenced with them—l must ex cuse myself upon the principle of reserving the best to the last. All poppet-showmen do so; and what Is this hut the first scene in my puppet show? Wo will describe them according to seniority. That tall, thin, cross-looking lady of forty-five is a spinster, and sister to Lord B. She has boon persuaded very much against her will to come on board; hut her notions of propriety would not per mit her niece to embark under the protection of only her father. She is frightened at every thing; if a rope is thrown down on the deck,up she starts, and cries. "Old" if on the deck, she thinks the water is rushing in below: ifdown below,and there isa noise, she is convinced there is danger; and, if it he perfectly still, shin is sure there is some thing wrong. She fidgets hersolf•and ovary body, and is quite a nuisance with her pride and ill.hu mor; but sho bus strict notions of propriety. and sacrifices herself as a martyr. She is the Hon. Miss Ossulton. AMANDA The lady who, when else smiles, shows so many rlim,ilos in her pretty oval face, is a young widow of the name of Lascelles. She married an old man to please her futher and mother, which was very dutiful on .her part. She was rewarded by finding herself's. widow with a large fortune.— 'Having married the first time to please her pa rents, she intends now to marry to please borscht; but she is very young, and is in no hurry. That young lady with such n sweet expression 'of countenance, is the Hon. Miss Cecilia Ossulton. She is lively, witty, and has no fear an her com. position; but she is very young yet, not mole than seventeen—and nobody knows what she really is —she does not know herself. These are the par. ties who meet in the cabin of the yacht. The crew consists of ton fine seamen, the steward,and the cook. There is also Lord B.'s valet, Mr. Os sultan's gentleman, and the lady's maid of Miss Ossulton. There not being .accommodation for them, the other servants have been left on shore. The yacht is now under weigh, and her sails are all sot. She is running between Drake's Isl and and the main. Dinner has boon announced. As the reader has learnt something about the preparations, I leave him to judge whether it bo not very pleasant to sit down to dinner in a yacht. The air had given every body an appetite; and it was not until the cloth was removed, that the conversation became general. "Mr. Seagrove," said his lordship, "you very nearly lost your passage; I expected you last Thursday." "I am sorry, my lord, that business prevented my sooner attending to your lordship's kind sum. mons." 'Come, Seagrove, don't be nonsensical,' said Hautaine; "you told me yourself, the other even ing, w hen you wore talkative, that you had never had a briefin your life." "And a very lot tunate circumstance," replied Seagrove: "for if I had had a brief, I should not have known what to have done with it. It is not my fault; I am fit for nothing but a commissioner; but still I kind lousiness, and very important busi ness, too; I was sunimenbd by Ponsonby to go with him to Tattersall's to give my opining about a horse he wishes to purchase, and then to attend him to Forest Wild to plead his cause with his uncle." "It appears, than, that you wore retained," re. plied Lord B.; "may I ask you whether your friend gained his cause?" "No, my lord, be lost his cause, but ho gained a snit." "Expound your riddle, sir," said Cecilia Ossul "The fact is, that old Ponsonby is very anxious that William should marry Miss Percival, whose estates join on to Forest Wild. Now, my friend William is about as fond of marriage as I am of law, rind thereby issue was joined." "But why were you to be called in?" enquired Mrs. Lascelles." "Because. madam, as Ponsonby never buys a horse without consulting me—" "I cannot see the analogy, sir," observed Miss Ossultnn, senior, bridling up. "Pardon me, madam: the fact is," continued Seagrove, "that, as 1 always have to back Ponson •by's horses, he thought it right that, in this in stance, I should back him; he required special pleading, but his uncle tried him for the capital offence, and ha was not allowed counsel. As Soon as we arrived, and I had bowed myself into the room, Mr. Ponsonby bowed me out again— which would have been infinitely more jarring to my feelings' had not the door been loft ajar." "DO any thing but pun, Seagrove," interrupt ed Hautaine. "Well, then, I will take a glass of wine." "Do so," said his lordship; "hut recollect, the whole company are impatient for your story." "I can assure you, my lord, that it was equal to any scone in a comedy." ' Now, be it observed, that Mr. Seagrove had a greet deal of comic talent; he was ■n excellent ntimie, and could alter his voice aluthet as he ET ROBERT WRITE MIDDLETON', EDITOR, PtrELICIIER "I WISH NO OTHER HERALD, NO OTHER SPEAKER OF MY LIVING ACTIOHS, TO KEEP NINE 01-VWW/ZZ.WW ) LOO 6 , akLl4 9 afto,o'.7)4X o a°LtiL.2.lnVcn,..7.2' "If she wore not in a ring-fence." "In good heart, William. That is, I mean an excellent disposition." "Valuable in matrimony." "And well tilled—l should say well educated,by her three maiden aunts, who aro the patterns of propriety." "Does any ono follow the fashion?" "In a high mate of cultivation; that is, her mind highly cultivated, and according to the last new system—what is it?" "A four-course shift, I presume," replied Wil liam, laughing; "that is, dancing, singing, music, and drawing." "And only seventeen! Capital soil, promising good crops. What would you have more? "A very pretty estate, uncle, if it were not the estate of matrimony. lam sorry, very sorry, to disappoint you; but I must decline taking a lease of it for life." "Then, sir, allow me to hint to you, that, in my testament, you aro only tenant at will. I consid er it a duty that I owe to the family, that the es tate should be re-united. That can only be done by one of our family marrying Miss Percival; and as you will not, I shall now write to your cousin James, and if ho accept my proposal,shall make him my heir. Probably he wall more fully appreciate the advantages of five thousand titres in a ring-fence." And Mr. Ponsonby directed his stops toward the door. "Stop, my dear uncle," cried William, rising up from his easy-chair; "we do not quite understand one another. It is very true that I would prefer half the property and remaining single to the two estates and the estate of marriage; but,at the same time, I did not tell you that I would prefer beg. gary to a wife and five thousand acres in a ring fence. I know you to be a man of your word; I accept your proposal. and you need not put my cousin James to the expense of postage." "Very good, William; I require no more: and as I know you to be a man of your word, I shall consider this match as settled. It was on this ac count only that I sent for you, and now you may go back again as soon as you please—l. will let you know when all is ready." "I must be at Tattersall's on Monday, uncle; there is a horse I must have for next season. Pray, uncle,may I ask when you are likely to want me?" "Let me see—this is May—about July, I should think." "July, uncle! Spare me—l cannot marry in the dog-days. No, hang it! not July." "Well, William, perhaps, as you must come down once or twice to see the properly--Miss Percival, I should say—it may be too soon—sup. pose we put it off till October." "October—l shall be down at Melton." "Pray sir, may I then inquire what portion of the year is not, with you, dog-days?" "Why, uncle, next April now—l think' that would do." "Next April—Eleven month, and a winter be tween. Suppose Miss Percival was to take a cold, and die!—" "I should be excessively obliged to her," tho't William. "No! no!" continued Mr. Ponsonby, 'there is nothing certain in this world, William. "Well then, uncle, suppose we arrange it for the first hard from?" "We have had no hard frosts lately, William.— We may wait for years. The sooner it is over the better, Go back to town, buy your horse and then come down here—my dear William, to oblige your uncle—never mind the dog-days." "Well, sir, if I am to make a sacrifice, it shall not be done by halves; out of respect for you; I will eveu marry in July, without any regard to the themometer." "You are a good boy, William. Do ynu want a cheque?" "I have had one to.dey," thought William, and was almost at fault. "I shall be most thankful, sir—they sell horseflesh by the ounce now a. days." "And you pay in pounds. There, William." •Thank you, sir, I'm all obedience; and I'll keep my word, even if there should bo a comet. I'll go and buy the horse, and then I shall be rea dy to take the ring fence as soon as you please." "Yes, and you'll get over it cleverly, I've no pleased. It was a custom of his to act a scene as between other people, and ho performed it remar kably well. Whenever ho said that any thing he was going to narrate was "as good as a coin• edy," it was generally understood by those who wore acquainted with him, that ho was to be ask ed so to dn. Cecilia Ossulton therefore immedi ately said, "Pray act it, Mr, Seagrove." Upon which Mr. Seagrove—premising that ho had not only hoard, but also seen all that had pas. sod—changing his voice, and suiting the action to the word,commonced. "It may," said ho, "be called Five 771ousand Acres in a Rint- Fence." We shall not describe Mr. Seagrove's motion:1; they must bo inferred from his words. .1) "It will, then, William," observed Mr. Ponson by, stopping, and turning to his nephew, oiler a rapid walk up and down the room with is hands behind him undor his coat, so as to allow the tails to drop their perpendicular about three inches clear of his body, "I may say, without contradic tion, ho the finest property in the country—five thousand acres in a ring-fence." "I dare say it will, uncle," replied William, tapping his foot as he lounged in a green moroc co easy chair; "and so. because you have set your fancy upon having these two estates enclosed to gether in a ring -fence, you wish that I should al so be enclosed in a ring-fence." "And a beautiful property it will be," replied Mr. Ponsonby. "Which, uncle?—the estate, or the wife?" "Both, nephew, both; and I expect your con sent." "Uncle, lam not nvericious. Your present property is sufficient for me. With your permis sion, instead of doubling the property, and doub ling myself, I will remain your solo heir, and single." • "Observe, William, such an opportunity may not occur again for centuries. We shall restore Forest Will to its ancient boundaries. You know it has been divided nearly two hundred years.— We now have a glorious, golden opportunity of reuniting the two properties; and when joined, the estate will be exactly what it was when granted to our ancestors by Henry the Eighth, at the period of the Reformation. This house must be pulled down, and the monastery left standing. Then we shall have our own again, and the property without encumbrance." "Without eneumbrancer,unclo: You forgot the there will be a wife." "And you forget that there will be five thousand acres in a ring-fence." "Indeed, uncle, you ring it too often in my oars, that I should forget it; but much as I should like to be the happy possessor of such a property, I do riot feel inclined to be the happy possessor of Miss Percival; and the more so, as 1 have never soon the property." "We will rido over it to-morrow, William." "Ride over Miss Percival, uncle! that will not be very gallant. I will,however,one ofthe<e days, ride ov3r the property with you, which, as well as Miss Percival, I have not as yet seen." "Then 1 can tell you, she is a very pretty prop doubt—Five thousand acres, William, and—a pretty wife!" "Have von any further commands, uncle?" said Willimmdepositing the cheque in his pocket-hook.' "Now, my dear boy, nro you going?" "Yes, sir; I dine at lire Clarendon." "Well, then, good. bye. Make my compliments and excuses to vour friend Seagrove. You will come Tuesday or Wednesday." "Thos was concluded the marriage between Wil liam Ponsciiby and Emily Percival, and the junction of the two cstat , -g, which formed together the great desideratum,—fire I/Joust:rid acres in a ring-fence.", Mr. Seagrove fi nished, and looked round for appro bat ion. "Very good, indeed, Seagrove," said his lord Sip, "you most take a glass of wine after that." "I would not give much for Miss Percival's chance of happiness," observed the elder Miss Ossulton. "Of two evils choose the least, they say," observed Mr. Hawaii:ie. "Poor Pousonby could not help him self." "'that's a very polite observation of yours, Mr. Hautaine—l thank you, in the name of the sex," re plied Cecilia Ossulton. "Nay, Miss Ossulton, would you like to marry a person whom you never saw?" "Most certainly not; but when you mentioned the two evils, Mr. Hautainc, I appeal to your honor, did you not refer to marriage or beggary?" "I must confess it, Miss Ossulton; but it is hardly fair to call on my honor to get me into a scrape." "I only wish that the offer had been made to me," observed Vaughan; "I should not have hesitated as Ponsonby did." . "Then I beg you will not think of proposing for me," said Mrs Lascelles, laughing; for Mr. Vaughan had been excessively attentive. "It appears to me, Vaughan," observed Seagrove, "that you have slightly committed yourself by that remark." Vaughan, who thought so too, replied: "Mrs. Las celles must be aware that I was only joking." "Fie! Mr. Vaughan," cried Cecilia Ossuiton, "you know it came from your heart " "My dear Cecilia," said the elder Miss Ossulton, "you forget yourself—what can you possibly know a bout gentlemen's hearts?" "The Bible says, "that they are deceitful and des perately wicked," aunt." "And cannot we also quote the Bible against your sex, Miss Ossulton?" replied Seagrove. "Yes, you could, perhaps, if any of you had eYer read it," replied Miss Ossulton, carelessly. "Upon my word,Clssy.you,are throwing the gaunt let down to the gentlemen," observed Lord B. "but shall throw my warderdown.and not permit this com bat a-l'outrance. I perceive you drink nornore wine, gentlemen—we will take our coffee on deck." "We were just about to retire, my lord," observed the elder Miss Ossulton, with great asperity: "1 have been trying to catch the eye of Mrs. Lascelles for some time, but—" "I was looking another way, I presume," iuterrup• tea Mrs. Lascelles; "I am afraid that I am the unfortunate culprit," Enid Mr. Seagrove; "I was telling a little anecdote to Mrs. Lascelles—" " Which, of course, from its being communicated in an under tone, was not proper for all the company to hear," replied the eider Miss Ossulton: "but if Mrs. Xitiscelles is now ready—" continued she,bridling up, - as she rose from her chair. "At all events, I can hear the remainder of it deck," replied Mrs. Lascelles. The ladies rosc,ate went into the cabin: Cecilia and Mrs. Lascelles ex changing very significant smiles, as they followed the precise spinster, who did not choose that Mrs. Las celles should take the lead merely because she had once heppened to have hero married. The gentle men also broke up, and went on deck. "Weihave a nice breeze now, my lord," observed Mr. Stewart, who had remainetfun deck, "and we lie right up Channel." "So much the better," replied his lordship; "we ought to have been anchored at Cowes a week ago. They will all be there before us." "Tell Mr. Simpson to bring me a light for my ci gar." said Mr. Ossulton to one of the men. Mr. Stewart went down to his dinner; the ladies and the coffee came on deck; the breeze was finc,the weather (it was April) almost warm; and the yacht, whose name was the Arrow, assisted by the tideouon left the Mewstone far astern. [TO BF: CONTINUED.] FROM THE FRANICLIN REPOSITORY Yes—let our starry banners float Triumpantly and free! And loudly wake the trumpet note Of coming victory— Let ev'ry barque, by valor maun'd, Go bounding o'er the wave, On—for the honor of your land, Columbiuns! free and brave! What—shall we tamely stoop and cower To the insulting foe? Shall the vain arrogance of power Basely our rights o'verthrow? Shall we, whose fathers bled to gain The station now our own— Yield to a land that wears its chain, That bends before a throne? . Writ on "the gloomiest page of time," Too oft her name appears, Link'd with each tale of blood and crime, Of infamy and tears. If, deaf to reason, deaf to shame, Again the sword she draws, We will not yield a nation's fame, Nor shrink from honor's cause. Long have our friendly hopes endued, And long our patience strove, Of peace and faithfulness assnr'd, By one who claim'd our love— That link is broken—he is gone, Our Hero—Sage—and Friend— Whose claims to gratitude alone Could make our justice bend. Still, at the mcm'ry of his worth Our breasts shall fondly glow, Although the hind that gave him birth Has now become our foe; And when with freedom's holiest power, That daring foe is met, Columbiana! then, in triumph's hour, Remember Lafayette! Let no dark blot your laurels stain In righteous warfare won— Nor let your country claim in vain Her matchless Washington— But onward' hark—the cry of war Cow,* echoing o'er the sea, Aneralreaglet darts from his crag afar— *OW to the victory! CUAMBESSDUUO, PA. TIE CAPTIVES 01' ALGIERS. [Tr,anslated from the Spanish for the Gettysburg Star] l ' wo MARINERS, a Spaniard and a Frenchman;were captives in Algiers; the first named ANTorrio, and the other ROGER; and it so happened that they were both em ployed at the same labour. As friendship is ever the solace of the unfortunate, they mutually consoled each other, converted about their families, wept together, and thus alleviated the sufferings to which they were condemned. They were engaged in the construction of a highway which led across a moun tain. One day the Spaniard suddenly stop ped and dropping his hands, heaved a deep sigh, and looking upon the whole extent of the sea, "Friend," said he to Roger, "all my wishes are centred in this expanse of water; oh, that 1 could cross it with thee! 1 seem to myself to see my wife and children stretching out their arms to me from Cadiz, or weeping for my supposed death I" An• tonio was wholly absorbed in this imagina- '. 71 •1:1; ^ .11'. " -SITAITS • ry idea; and every limo ho came to the mountain, he viewed with melancholy the whole space which separated him from his country. One day, embracing his companion in a transport of joy, "Look!" said he, "I see from hence a ship; it will not put into port near thiN place; hut if you wish, to-morrow we will end our miseries and be free! Yes, to-morrow this vessel will pass at the dis tance of two leagues from the coast, and then we will precipitate ourselves into the sea from the summit of the overhanging rock;, we will wait for the ship or we will perish, since death is preferable to a servi tude so cruel." 'cif you can save yourself," answered Roger, "I am content; but go search for my father, Wage has not yet borne him hence, tell him "Go and see your father I what, then, do you design to do? I cannot depart leaving you in a state ofslavery." "But I know not how to swim, and you do." "1 know how to love you," replied the Spaniard,pressing Roger to his breast, "my life is yours; we shall save each other since friendship will give mo vigor; you shall fast ten yoursolf to me with this girdle." "It is useless, Antonio, to think of this; will not expose a friend to dgath. This gir dle will either slip from me, or I shall causo you to sink with me to the bottom." "Then we shall joyfully drown together. But why create the seapprehensions? Friend ship will sustain my valor; my love for you is such as to enable me to perform mira cles." "But those who guard us appear to be on tho alert, and even some of our companions are so base as to give information." "Adieu, I hoar the bell that summons us away; it is necessary to separate; adieu, be loved Roger." All night was Antonio thinking on his in. tended voyage, believing that the passage across the sea to the distance of the vessel would be very easy. Roger, on the contra. ry, fancied to himself being drowned and causing the loss of his companion. In the morning, as the slaves were not brought out as usual, the Spaniard was devoured with impatience, and Roger knew not whether he ought to rejoice or to feel the disappoint. ment. At last they came to take them out to their labor; and at the close of day, the two friends, finding themselves alone, Anto nio exclaimed, "The moment has arri ved !" "No, my friend ! Novor shall I consen o jeopardize your life. Adieu! adieu! embrace you for the last time—Save your self--Remember me—Do not forget my fa ther—console him." At these words Roger threw himself into he arms of Antonio, shedding a flood of ears. "You weep, Roger; tears do not become us now, but valor and spirit. Uwe delay we are ruined; we shall perhaps nevie-find another opportunity of escape. Make your choice; either come along with me, or I will dash out my brains against these rocks." The Frenchman fell upon his knees, but the other persisted; at length Antonio hasti• ly embraced him with great tenderness, and having gained the height of a rock, they cast themselves into the sea. They sink into the deep, again they rise—Antonio swims away sustaining Roger, who appears to resist the efforts of his friend through fear of causing his death. Those who were in the vessel, surprised at a sight which they could not well distin guish, believed it to be a sea-monster which thus approached them. An object so novel excited their curiosity; a cutter hastened in pursuit of what they judged to be ty sea monster, and the soldiers who guarded the slaves on shore also attempted to overtake Antonio and Roger. The latter saw them approaching—he looks upon hie friend who appears to be growing weaker and weaker; l he makes an effort and separates himself from Antonio, saying to him, "They pur sue us, save yourself and leave me to die since I impede your exertions!" Scarcely had he said this when he stink beneath the waves. A new transport of friendship re animated the Spaniard; and rushing upon the Frenchman, he. caught him at the mo ment he was about to perish, and both dis• appeared! The cutter, uncertain of the course it should take, was detained, whilst a boat, sent from the ship,went to reconnoitre what they could with difficulty distinguish. At length they saw two men one of whom had the other in his arms endeavoring to swim towards the vessel. In a moment it flew to his succor, and already was Antonio about to let Roger go in despair, when ho heard a shout from the boat; then he embraces his friend, makes new effects and lays hold with a feeble hand of one side of the boat. He was just ready to let go when the boat men assisted him; the strength of Antonio was exhausted, and he was only able to ex claim, "succour my friend! I am dying!" Roger, alarmed at this, opened his eyes, and seeing Antonio stretched out without signs of life, he approached him and embra ced him, exclaimed, "My friend I my ben efactor! is it possible that I am your mur derer 1 Ah ! may I lose my wretched life, having lost my friend !" HEAVEN, who is undoubtedly moved with tears when they are sincere, gave n demon stration of his goodness in behalf of a sen timent so rare! Antonio heaved a vigh, and Roger cried out with delight; all drew near to aid tho dittressed Spaniard, who [WHOLE NO. 306. opening his eyes and directing them to wards his companron,exclaimed, "I have sa ved my beloved Roger!" The bent arrived at the ship, and the two men inspired all present with the great. est respect. Roger arrives in France, runs to the embrace of his father,whose excessive joy had like to have proved fatal to him, and shortly after was appointed boatman of the ponds at Versailles. The Spaniard, to whom a situation was offered, preferred to remain with his wife and children; but ab sence frorri each other did not in the leabt diminish the mutual friendship of the Two Faint.rns. CECILIO DE CODPAB: VARIETY. From tho Baltimore Visitor. ALEIGIIIXG. "Thoso merry bolls, thoso merry bolls, How many a tale their mush: tolls." A good, hearty, old fashioned winter has come upon us at last, and the lovers of fun and frolic are killing old time to the merry jingle of sleigh belfs,as they glide away with the keen invigorating northwest whistling about their ears and singing 'as many snatch es of old songs s . and telling overas many old recollections as memory still keeps fresh in the heart. But alas! modern sleigh riding has greatly degenerated, in its palmy days, the girls were as necessary an appendage to the sleigh as to the parlor, and our fathers would lissom have thought ofgoing to church by themselves,as taking a sleigh ride without a full load of red cheeks and laughing eyes. Your modern gentleman, is of a new and improved variety. He does not feel at lib erty in the company of ladies. He can en. joy himself better with his own sex, than with the other. In the parlor and drawing room ho is under an awkward constraint; he • has to put on new manners, and talk a dif ferent language, and he feels it,and imagines that there is not half the pleasure to been, . ,toyed in female society that your pure ro mancers talk about. And then he must, to have pleagure, go a sleigh riding alone— that is alone with his choice spirits, and any quantity of these fine fellows have been in public exhibition, night and day, in Market street, for the last two weeks. For shame! A sleigh ride is a mere excuse for pleasure without the girls. Take them along—take them along or stay at home yourselves. And be sure to have the sleigh as full as it can stick—the more the merrier—don't just take your two sweethearts along,vou on one seat whispering tender things in the, ear of your dulcina, and he on the other whisper ing honied hyperboles to his,while the stoical driver is dashing away with the velocity or the wind, and you dead to all the real plea sures of a sleigh ride—better stay at home, gentlemen; the comfortable sofa and the cheerful' grate ado the best concomitants of a courtier , c scene. No-:--no—get a full load, and then for fun in good earnest. Whilst all the country around us is cov ered with snow, and the rising sun finds tho The, mometer (of Fahrenheit) below zero, the New Orleans paper, which last came to hand, (of the 15th January,) complains of the "sultriness of the weather" and the "op pressive heat"'which prevail there! NOTE OF PEEPAUATION•—Tho Bunker. Hill Aurora states that orders have been received at the Charlestown Navy . Yard to prepare the three ships now on the stocks, to be launched immediately. These ships are the Vermont and Virginia, of the line, and the Cumberland frigate of 44 guns. It was rumored that a person was in the possession of information that might proba bly lead to the detection of the incendiaries in the city of Lancaster. The witness was summoned before his honor the Mayor, but refused to testify, and was sent to prison.— We have not learned that the delinquent handed in a "written protest."—Lan. In fifteen years the town of Lowell in Msssachusetts has increased in population from two hundred to sixteen thousand. The amounrof capital invested in manufactures is nearly eight millions of dollars; the num ber of factories rs twenty-seven; the quanti ty, of cloth manufactured per annum about forty-five millions of yards; the average ar mount of wages paid per month is one hun dred and six thousand dollars; the number of gallons of oil consumed is filly-five thou sand. GonmArgots3r.—A man ofproperty, who had for years been abusing his stomach, at last found his health on a rapid decline.-- Nature could endure no longer. He went to consult the celebrated Dr. Spring, of W at• erton, Mass. He stated the symptoms of his case so clearly,t hat the learned physician could not mistake the nature of his disease. "I can cure you, sir," said ho, "Ifyou will follow my advice." The patient promised most implicitly to do so. "Now," says the doctor, "you must steal a horse." "What steal a horse?" "Yes—you must steal a horse. You will then be an ested, convicted, and placed in a situation where 1 our dice end regimen will be such that in a short time your health will be perfectly . restored." Virginians of talent seldom fail to win distinction abroad as well as at home. Ro. bert Carter Nicholas, the new Senator from Louisiana, is a son of Wilson Carey Nicho. las, formerly Governor of Virginia , and em. igrated to Louisiarils froin the county otAl-, bemarle. He is between 40 and 80 years of ago.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers