*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.