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[D. A. BTIEIILER, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR:
VOL. XVII.-17. }
POETRY.
FORGET THEE I
Forget thee!—ohl my spirit's weary
With its long, unbroken chain!
Forget thee!—oh I were life more dreary,
Still thine image would remain,
Blending with each fancy vision
Thoughts of love too fake and frail
Youthful hopes that had arisen,
Leaving manhood to bewail:
Thine eyes of light, and face of beauty
Come they with a wild'ring spell, '
To mock my dreams of love and clutx .. e,
With thy mystic fare-thee•wellt
Forget thee l—oh: though lost forever,.
Fondly loved through vain regret—
With a charm time may not sever,
Memory 'round thee lingers yet.
BELIEVE ME Z
11l CIfA It LES SWAIN
Believe me or believe me not, f
At other shrine I could n&er bow :
The world itself might be forgot,
134 never thou—oh, never thou!
Though absent, I recall thy charms,
And wish=as lovers when they part—
I'd, like the vine, a thousand arms,
To clasp and hold thee to my heart.
There's not a pulse within my breast
But thrills and trembles to thy touch!
Forget ?—oh, no ! the fear is lest
My soul may love thee overmuch.
Thy very name each feeling warms,.
And oft, though vain; the wish will start,
That, vine -like, I'd a thousand arms,
To clasp thee ever to my heart!
FORGIVENESS.
AT T. EDMONSTOS.
When on a fragrant sandal tree
The woodman's axe descends,
And she who bloomed, so belutconsly,
Beneath the weapon bends--
t'n on the edge that wrought her death;
Dying, she breathes her sweetest breath;
As if to token, in her fall, -
Peace to her foes and love to all.
How hardly man this lesson learns, .
To smile and bless the hand that spurns—
To see the blow, to feel the pain;
And render only love again !
°ss had it—but He came from-lleaven
Reviled, rejected, and betrayed,
No curse He breathed, no plaint He made;
But when in death's dark pang He sighed,
Prayed for His murderers, and died_!
The bird that sings on highest wing,
Builds on the ground her lowly nest,
And she that dot)} most sweetly sing,
Sings in the shade when all things rest
In lark and nightingale we see
What honor bath humility.
The saint that wears beaven's brightest eruwn
In deepest adoration bends ;
The weight of glory bends him down
The most when high his soul ascends: •
Nearest the throne itself must be
The footstool of humility.
11 The following are said to have been the last
lines ever penned by the lamented Wm. :
WHAT IS DR.ATIII
Why, what is Death but Wa
in other forms of being Life without
The coarser attributes of the dull
And momently decaying frame which holds
The ethereal spirit in, and binds it down
To brotherhood with brutes ! There's no
Such thing as Death : what's so call'd is but
-The beginning of a new existence—a fresh
Segment in the eternal round of change.
SELECT TALE.
From Nears Saturday Gazette
THE BROTIIERS ;
11 IN THE FASHION AND ABOVE TILE
-FASHION.
fly Nye author of Conquest and &If- Con quest
Some men are born to greatness—some
(thieve greatness, and some have greatness
thrust upon them. Henry Manning be
! onged to the second of these three great
'lasses. The son of a mercantile advcn
urer who won and lost a fortune by spec
ulation, he found himself k sixteen years
f age called on to choose between the
' ife of a Western farmer, with its vigorous
tetion, gtitring'incidents and rough usages,
tad the life of a clerk iii one of the most
toted establishments in Broadway—the.
rent .source and centre of fashion in New
ork. Mr. Morgan, the brother of Mrs.
Tanning, who had been recalled front the
listant West by the death of her husband,
tad the embarrassments into which thal•
'vent 'had plunged her, had obtained the,
iTer of the last situation for one of his two
cphews, and would take the other with
dm to his prairie home.
"I do,not ask.you to go with me, Alma
la," he said to his sister, "because our life
s yet too wild and rough to suit a delicate '
voinan, reared, as you have been, in the
nidst of Inxurions refinements. The dtli-
Alleles and privationspf life in the West,
aU most — heavily upon woman, while she
malittle of that sustaining power which
tan's more adventurous spirit finds in evert;
oming
.diflieultfland coping with danger.
hit let me have one of vour boys, and by
Ile time he has arrived •at manhood.. he
ill be able,' I doubt not, to offer roe in
his home all the comforts, if not all the cl
egancies, of your present home."
Mrs. Manning g consented ; and now the
question was, which of her sons should re
main with her, and which should accom
pany Mr. Morgan. To Henry Manning,
older by two years than his brother George,
,the choice of situations was submitted.
He went with his uncle to the Broadway
establishment—heard the duties which
would, be demanded from him—the salary
which would be given—saw the grace with
which the elegants behind the counter dis
played their silks and satins and velvets to
the . tlegantes before the counter, and the
;decision with which they promulgated the
decrees . of fashion—and with thatjust sense
of his own powers which is - the accompa
niment of true genius, he decided at once
that there lay his vocation. George, who
had been with (faculty- kept quiet while
his brother was forming his decision, as
soon as it was announced sprang forward
with a whoop that would have suited a
• western forest better than a New York
drawing-room, threw the Horace he was
reading across the table, clasped first his
mother and then his uncle in his arms, and
exclaimed, "I am the boy for the West.--
I will help you fell forests and build cities
there, uncle. Wily should not we build
cities as well as Romulous and Remus ?"
"I will supply your cities with all their
silks, and satins, and velvets, and charge
them nothing, George," said Henry Man-
ning, with that air of superiority with!
which the worldly wise often look on the
— sallies of the enthusiast.
'You make my head ache, my son," com
plained Mrs. Manning, shrinking from his
boisterous gratulation : but Mr. Morgan I
returned his hearty embrace,- and as he
gazed into his bold, bright face, with an
eye bright as his own, replied to his - burst
of enthusiasm, "you ARE the very boy for
the West, George. It is out of such brave
stuil' that pioneers and city-builders areal
wayg made."
Henry Manning soon boWed himself,
into favor of the ladieswho formed the
principle customers of his employer. By
his careful and really correct habits, and
his elegant taste- in the selection and ar
rangement of goods, he became also a fit- ;
vorite with his employers themselves.—
They needed an agent for the selection of
gocids abroad and they sent him. He pur
chased cloths for them in England, and
silks in France, and came home with the
reputation of a travelled man. 'Having
persuaded his Mother to advance a capital
for him by selling out the Bank stock in
%Odell Mr. Morgan had funded her little
fortune, at twenty-four years of age he en
tered business for himself as a French im
porter. Leaving a partner to attend to the
sales at home, he went abroad for the se
lection of goods, and the further enhance
ment of his social reputation. He return
ed in two years with a fashionable figure,
a most recherche style of dress, moustach
ios of the mOM approved cut, and whiskers
of faultless curl—a finished gentleman in
his own conceit. With such attractions,
the prestige. which he derived from his re
ported travels and long residence abroad,
and the savoir faire of one who had made
the conventional arrangements of society
his study, he quickly rose to the summit
of his wishes, to the point which it had
been his life's ambition to attain. He be
came the umpire of taste And his word was
received as the fiat of fashion.. He contin
ued to reside with his mother and paid
great attention to her style of dress, and
the arrangements of her house, for it was
important that his mot.ber should appear
properly. Poor Mrs. Manning ! she
sometimes thought that proud_ title dearly
purchased by listening to his daily criti
cisms on appearance, language, manners,
which had appeared stylish enough in their
day.
George Manning had visited his mother
but once since he left her, with all the
bright imaginings and boundless confidence
of fou rtcen, and then Ilenry was in Eu
rope, It was during the first whiter after
his return, and when the brothers had
been separated.for nearly twelve years, that
Mrs."
. Manning informed him she had re
ceived a letter front George announcing
his intention to be in New York in Decem
ber, and to remain with them most, it not
all of the winter. Henry Manning was
evidently annoyed at the announcement.
"I wish," he said, "that George had
chosen to make his visit in the summer,
when most of the people to whom I should
hesitate to introduce him would have been
absent. I should be sorry to hurt his feel
ings, but really to introduce a western Ern-i
-re into polished society" Henry Man
ning shuddered, and was silent "And then
to choose this winter of all winters, for his
visit, and to come in December, just at the
very time that I heard yesterday Mips. Har.
court was coming from Washington to
spend a few weeks with her friend, Mrs.
Dullield !"
• "And what has Miss Harcourt's visit to
Mrs. Duffield to,do with George's visit to
us ?"‘asked,Mrs. Manning.
"A. groat , deal—at least it has a great
deal to do with my regret that ha
should come just now. I told you how I
became acquainted. with Emma Harcourt
in Europe, and what a splendid creature,
She is. Even in Paris, she bore the palm
for wit and beauty—and fashion too,tliat
is in English and Ainerieant-ociety. ^-Lt.
I did initiall o u thatshe received me
such distinguishing favor, and (wine.,
much pretty-cnsciousnear at my att^n , . •
GETTYSBURG, PA., FRIDAY EVENING ; JULY 10, 1846.
that, had not her father, having been cho
sen one of the electors of President and
Vice President, hurried from Parris in or
der to be in this country in tune for his
vote, I should probably have been induced
to marry her. Her father is in Congress
this Year, and you see, she no sooner learns
that I am here, than she• comes to spend
part of the winter with a friend in New
York."
Henry rose at this, walked to a glass,
surveyed his elegant figure, and continuing
to cast occasional glances at it as he walk
d backwards and forwards through the
room, resumed the conversation or rather
his own communication. • •
"All this is very encouraging, doubtless,
but Emma Harcourt is so perfectly ele
gant, so thoroughly refined, that 1 dread
the effect upon her of any mare associa
tion—by-the-by, mother, if I Obtain her
permision to introduce you to her, you
will not wear that brown hat in visiting her;
a brown hat is my aversion—it is positive
ly vulgar—but to return to George—how
can I introduce him, with his rongh;-bois
terous, Western • manner, to thiS courtly
lady ?—the very thought chills me"—and
Henry Manning shivered—"and yet, how
can I avoid it, it' we should be engaged ?"
With December came the beam aid Em
ma Ifarcourt, and Mrs. Duffield's house
was thronged with her admirers. Hers
was the form and movement of the Hun
tress Queen : rather than of ona trained in
the halls of fashion. There was a joyous
freedom in her air, her step, her glance,
which, had site been less beautiful, less' tal
ented, less fortunate in social position, or
in wealth, would have placed her under
the ban of Fashion, but as it was she cow-
manded fashion, and even Henry- Manning,
the very slave of conventionalism, had no
criticism for her. lie had been among
the first to call on her, and the' blush that
flitted across her cheek, `the smile that.
played upon her lips as he was announced,
might well hav e flattered even one of less
vanity.
The very next day, before Henry had had
time to improve these symptoms in his fa
vor, on returning home, at five o'clock, to
his dinner, lie found a stranger in the par
lour with his mother. The gentleman
rose on his entrance, and he had scarcely
time to glance at the tall, manly form, the.
lofty air, the commanding brow; crc he
found himself clasped in his arms, with
the exclamation. "Dear Ilenry how re.
juiced I am to see you again."
j In George. Manning the physical and
intellectual man had been developed in
rare harmony. He was taller and larger
in every way than his brother Henry, and
the self-reliance which the latter had labo
riously - attained from the mastery or all
conventional rules, was his by virtue of a
courageous soul, which held itself above all
' rules but those prescribed by- its own high
sense of the right. There was a singular
contrast, rendered . yet more striking by
some points of resemblance, bet Ween the
pupil of society and the child of the forest,
—between the Parisian elegance of henry
.'
and the proud free (Trace ofGeorge. Ills
were the step and bearing which we have I
seen in an Indian chief; but tbought had left;
its impress on his brow, and there was in I
his countenance that indescribable air of
refinement which marks a polished mind.
In a very few minutes Henry became re
coil-tiled to his brother's arrival; and 'satis
fied with him in all respects but one—his j
dress. This was of the finest cloth, but I
made into large, loose trowsers, and a spe
cies of hunting shirt,' trimmed with fur,
belted hound the waist and descending to
the knee, instead of the tight pantaloons
and closely fitting body coat prescribed by
fashion. The little party lingered long
over the table—it was seven o'clock when
they arose, front it.
"Dear mother," said George Manning,
I am sorry to leave you this evening, but I
will make you rich amends to-morrow, by
introducing to you the friend I am going to
visit, if you will permit me. Henry, it is
so long since I was in New York, that I
need some directiotrin finding my
must I turn up or down Broadway tor
No.—, in going from this street ?"
"Number—," exclaimed Henry in sur
prise; "you must be mistaken—that is Mrs.
Duffield's."
“Then I ant quite right, for it is at Mrs.
Duffield's that I expect to meet my friend
this evening.”
With some curiosity to know what
friend of George could'haye so completely
the entree of the fashionable Mrs. llutlields
house as to make an appointment there, he
proposed to go with him and show him
the way. There was a momentary
hesitation in George's manner before he re
plied, Very well, I will be - obliged to
you."
"But—excuse me, George—you are not
surely going in that dress—this is one .of
Mrs. Duifield's reception evenings, and
early as it is, you will tine company there."
George laughed as he replied, “They
must take me as I am, Henry. We do not
receive our fashions from Paris at the
West."
Henry almost repented his 'offer to ac
company his brother but it was too late
to withdraw, for George, unconscious of
this feeling, had taken his-cloak and cap
and was awaiting his escort. As they ap
proached Mrs.' Duffield's' house, George,
who had hitherto , led the conversatiop,,be
came silent, or answered, his brcither only
in monosyllables, and that not always to
'le purpose., As they entered the hall, the
s:ld ' elcd%s dilliayed there' :.ho; red
`FEARLESS ASP FREE."
that, "as Henry supposed, they were not
the earliest visitors. George paused for a
moment, and then said, "You must go in
without me, Henry—show Inc to a room
where there is no company," he continued,
turning to a servant—"and take this card
into Mrs. Duffield—be sure to give it to
Mrs. Duffield herself."
The servant ho‘ved low to the VOlll
- stranger. and 'Henry, almost me
chanically, obeyed his direction, muttering
to himself "Free and easy, upon my hon
or." lie had scarcely entered the usual
reception room and made his bow to Mrs.
Duffield, when the servant presented his
brother's card. lie watched her closely,
and saw a smile playing over her lips as
her eyes rested upon it. She glanced
anxiously at Miss Harcourt, and crossing
the moll to a group in which she stood,
she drew her aside. After a. few whis
pered words,'Airs. Duffield placed the card
in Miss 1 incourt's hand. A sudden flash
of joy irradiated every feature of her beau
tiful face,and henry Manning saw that, but
for Mrs. Duffield's restraining hand, she
would have rushed from the room.•
Pe
'tralled thus to a recollection of others, she
looked around her, and her eves met - his,
Lt an instant her face was covered with
blushes, and she drew back with embar
rassed conseiousness,—almost immediate
ly, however, she raised her head with a
proud; bright expression, aid though site
did not look at Henry ;Mannino, he felt
that she, was conscious of his observation,
as she passed with a composed, yet joyous
step from the room.
henry Manning was awaking from a
dream.. It was not a very pleasant awake
ning, but as his vanity, rather than his
heart was touched, he was able to conceal
his chagrin. and appear as interesting and
agreeable as usual. He now expected
with some impatience the de'nouemeOt of
the comedy. An hour passed away and
Mrs. Dollield's eye. began
_to consult the
marble time piece on her Mantle. The
chime li)r another half hour rang_out,. and
she left the room and returned in a few
minutes,• leaning on the arm of Georg'
Manning.
_"Who is that?-IVhat noble looking,
man is that?" `were questions Henry Man
ning heard front many—from a very few
only .the exeltituatimi, "how odly he is
dressed !'' Before the evening was over.
Henry began to feel that he was eclipsed
on hi:, ofra theatiu—tt cie - org.e, ii not in
thelaNhion, was yet more theiitshion than
Ire. • •
Following the proud happy glance of
his brother's eye, , a quarter of an hour later,
1 henry saw Miss Harcourt entering the
room in an opposite direction from etat ill
which he had lately come. If this was a ruse
on her part to veil the connection between
their movements, it was a fruitless caution.
None who had seen her before could now
fail to observe the softened character of her
beauty-, and those who saw
A thousand blushing apparitions start
lute her face—
whenever his eyes rested on her, could
scarcely doubt, his influence over her.
I The nest morning, George Manning
brought Miss Harcourt to visit his ill.l)ther,
I and Mrs. Manning rose greatly_ in 'Ler son
I Henry's estimation when he saw the al
fcctionate deference evinced to her by the
proud beauty.
"How strange my manner must have
seemed to you sometimes," said Miss Har
court to henry one day. "I was engaged
to George long her o n ; I wet y o u i n Eu
rope, and though 1-never had courage to
mention him to you, 1 wondered a little
that you never spoke of him. I never
doubted for a moment that von were ac
quainted with our engagement."
"I do not even yet understand where and
how you and George met?"
"We met at home—my lather was Gov
enor of the Territory—State now—in
which your uncle lives—our homes were
very near each other's, and so we met al
most daily while I was still a child. • We
have had all sorts of adventures together,
for George was a. great favorite with my
lather, and I was permitted to go with him
anywhere. He has saved my life twice—
olive at the imminent peril of his own,
when with the wilfulness of a spoiled child
1 would ride a horse which he told me I
could not manage. Oh! you know not
hall' his nobleness," and tears moistened
the bright eyes of the happy girl.
Henry Manning was touched through
all his conventionalism, yet the moment
after he said, "George is a tine fellow cer
tainly, but I wish you could persuade. him
to dress a little more like other people."
"I would not If I could," exclaimed Em
ma Harcourt, while die blood rushed to
her temples; "fashions and all such con-
ventional regulations are made for those
who have no innate perception of the right,
the noble, the beautiful—not fur such as he
--Lilt - is above fashion."
What Emma would not ask, she yet did
not fail to recognize as another proof of
correct judgement, when George Manning
laid aside his Western costume and us 7
sumed less,remarltable.
Henry Manning had received -a new
idea,—that, there are. those who are above
the fashion.
thought, which in tinic found entrance to
his mind, that it would be at least as profi
table to devote our energies to the acqui
sition of true nobility of soul, • pure and
high thought, and refined taste, av to the
study of those conventionalisms witich are
but their outer garment, and'eau at best ou.
Iv eunceal for .a short arse tht-ir ab 411.2.,
-Allied to this 'vas 'another
THE. SCR IPTURES.
11T SIR WN. JONES
liclore thy ,mystic altar. licl7'vettly truth,
I kneel in manhood, as I knelt in youth.
This let Mu kneel. till this dull form decay,
And life's last shade he brightened by thy ray :
Tian shall my soul, now lost in clouds below,
Soar without bound, without consuming glow.
< ••••• I"
11 ISC E 11. 5 N
A TIIIZILLIN.G ANECDOTE
In'The following anecdote was related to the
writer in a farm-holt , se in Virgiiiia, during a night
spent there some ten years ago:
"In Deceit:her, 1 7—, towards the clive
of a dreary day, a woman and an infant
child were discovered half-buried in the
snow, by a little Virginian, seven years
i old. The lad was returning from school,
„
• and nearing the moans of some one iu dis
-1 tress, threw down his satchel of books 61
repaired to the spot whence the sound pen
seeded, with a firmness becoming one of
;
riper years. 'Raking the snow front the
benumbed body of the mother, .and using
Ameans to awaken her to a sense of her de
plorable condition, the noble youth sue
.
seeded in getting her upon her feet ; the in
hint, nestling on its mother's breast, turned
its eves toward the youthful preserver and
smiled, as it seemed, in gratitude for their
preservation. With a countenance filled
with hope, the gallant youth cheered the
Istifferer on, himself bearing within his tiny
; arms the iel:int child, while the mother
leaned for support on the shoulder of their !
' little conductor. "My home is hard by,”
would lie exclaim, so oft as her spirit
• failed ; and thus for . three miles did he ;
cheer onward to a happy haven the mother j
and child„ both of whom otherwise must,
have perished, had-it not been for the hu
inanefeeling, and perseverance of this no
ble youth.
A warm-fire and kind attention coon re
lieved the sufferer, who, it appears, was in
search of her husband, a recent purchaser
of a farm in the neighborhood of —,
near this place. Diligent inquiry for sev
eral days found 'him, and, in live months
after, the identical house in which. We are
now sitting was erected, and received the
happy family. The child grew up to man
hoodentered the army—lost a limb at N.
Orleans, but returned to end his days, a
solace to the declining years of his :wed
parents. •
- "Where are they now..?" I asked the
narrator.
"Here," exelaiined the son : "I am the
rescued one ; there is my mother, and here,
imprinted on my naked arm, is the nalne
of the noble youth, our preserver !" I
looked and read, WINFIELD SCOTT!"
BEAUTIFUL T.—While the choir
of St. :3 church were chanting the 7'e
i Deane on Sunday morning, a dove alight
led upon the top sash of the window .near
the gallery, just as they came to the
-live and supplicatory passage, "We know
that thou shalt come to be our judge ; we
therelbro pray Theo help thy servants
whom thou hast redeemed with thy pre
cious blood." Stretching out its beautiful
neck, from which were reflected the bril
liant hues of the rainbow it listened to the
solemn and soothing strains as they filled
the church with harmony, and sat there
until the chant was ended. Then gently
raising itself from its perch, it soared away
into the blue heavens to offer up its own
prayers and praises to 4.lliin who feedeth
the young ravens when they cry," and "suf
lereth not a sparrow to NI to the ground
without his knowledge."--Cincinnati At-
,AMBlTlON—WAsiircaToN . .—Many , per
sons are governed by a weak and worldly
ambitimi that defeats the ohject which
they have in view. We - never kneW a per
son to become immortal who was in a great
hut'ry to beconie_lhmous. A little splut
tering and a little glittering may' make a
man temporarily known ; but true great
ness only can last on the tablet of the
world's memory. When in the Philadel
phia Congress, George Washington was
named as the Commander-in-chietof the
American armies, he was astonished and
confounded, and rushed out of the room.
Ile was the last man who would have
sought that post which has immortalized
THE 3IAN TO BE DESIRED.—The most
agreeable of all companies is a simple,
frank man, without any high pretensions
to oppressive greatness, one who loves life,
and understands the use of it, obliging :dike
at all hours ; above all• of a golden temper
and steadfast as an anchor: — For such an
one we would gladly exchange the most
brilliant wit, or the profoundest thinkei..
yoti l ease revels in the system at tritirriAS in
HWow To CHOOSE A IFF..-.—Wilell
our abodes, and_.men 'blindly- . Cefuse--te 'lip-
call unexpectedly on a female, and find her :
a remedy ; but till + , t c is "iiii:istiifii.
at the Wash tub, with her sleeves rolled up:
l t, l o Y rn things," and show conclusively khrit
and her gown pinned'before lier, to keep:
that snort . incurable diseaseil 'will tieltlik:
it front the dirt, and She does
apologise
tiered with the things thati , verq; : . iEteiali;
or blush, remember, young man, she is the
woman air a wife. She will be worth her la, which has so longballlo Nefileatfiktg.
i
weight in diamonds.—Poriland 'Mikan:- is now .effectually and pertitanetiiTy''euiett
' i by SANn's SAitsdienamt,e, and all diiiiiiiii
Moral prinCiple is the citadel of the having their origin in an idiptire'stitaprthe
heart. Alt education, therefore, - which is blood, also chroni6 . 6 listittitienalafniikri.
conducted irrespectivb of this, is but : ID - 9r further Pail : l44're anct i'oacliiii‘4l' . 04-
deneP of it; superior OH Cacy; 'tee Paraiihteti,ifbith
the ereg:tion' of 'outworks to besiege the
. , may , Jha obtainod of agents gratis. - .t` Prep** r and
stronghold of virtue. •
i bold. wholesale and rinail, by ~ .. Lt.& P. :.Ohndio,
i , "in Fulton street New 1',Utk.,.... „ t0141._ alai :_h..,_
Fathers, when they choose a profession ri,ni intent of p l:ort i. ~ t . r .,v y -or: arloiex
for their sons, should look at
_their qualiti-,
, ttrg,
.P ., a. , ! . ' i rieo:ltt . Rer bolq: - :),vilts.„ .
cations. instead of• eonsultin their_ own . 1 0 1 . 4,
ambition, a; is ‘-ery freqcntly.the ettLe. • . .Lae 12, 1846.43 C ' , L. .‘ --- 7 '' `, ''--:.
1 - • . .-
TE 11:3IF-T NV 0 D01.1.A PElt A N M.
WHOLE ,NO. 849.
DISSAT ' ISFAGTION AMONG THE ' VOL'UN.•
'rt.:rms.—By letters from Alatamoras it is
evident that a great many of the volunteers
find the privations of military life anything
but pleasant, and consequently considera
ble of a spirit of fault-finding is evinced by
•
those who have never befere !edged in the
tented field. It is stated as the opinion of
Major Fowler, who carne passenger in the
James L. Day, at New Orleans, that when
the order of the Secretary of War shall
reach camp, relative to enlisting the vol
unteers for twelve months, or immediately
disbanding and sending home those Virile
should refuse to extend their time a en-
Ilisting, the latter alternative. will be accept
ed by nearly three-fourths of the six regi
ments sent dawn by Louisiana.
S - rtaxmo COlNClDENCE.—Pielideneacr
ferson was horn in i'743, just eight years
after his predecessor, John Adams ; Mad
ison eight years after .his predecessor, Jef
• fl!rson ; Monroe eight years after Madison ;1
and John Quincy Adams eight years after
Monroe. 'John Adams was just sixty-six
years old when he retired; Jefferson was
sixty-six ; Madison was sixty-six; Mon
roe was sixty-six ; and John Quincy Ad
ams, had he been elected to a second
term, would have been silty-six. Adams,
Jefferson and Monroe, all died on the 4th
of July.
A BIM TN EAR.—The Centreville
(Md.) Timds states that Capt. Cornelius
Story was awakened after retiring to bed
a few nights since, with a most ekcrucia--
ting pain in the ear. A physician, (Dr.
Harper) being sent ibr, it was discovered
that,A
_bug had entered. his hear, and Was
the cause of this distressing torture. Rem
edies being applied, the pain'Was soon re
lieved,
and subsequently the bug _was
withdrawn. •
' JOHN RANDOLPH'S SLVAES.—The Louis
ville Ledger announces that the citizens of
Ramlolph county, arc objecting to— the
project of a settlement there of John Ran
tiolphs's neffrocs. The excitement among
them is high, add it is said that force and
arms will be used if necessary to prevent it.
A son of Col.. Benton, at Brownston,
la., was killed aTew dhys since, by the ac
cidental discharge of a gun in.the hands of a
cedipanion with whom he was out hunting:.
Till.: enUrc cluirguipasseu tbrotigit'llfWEetTE,
causing instant death. ••
A illornion settlenient, iCis said, has
been commenced by the influence of Sid•
ney RigdOn; near Green Castle, Franklin
county, Pennsylvania.
JArrunAtty C untosvrv.--In the works of
John Taylor, the Water Poet, there occurs
the subjoined piece of laborious ingenuity,
upon which he greatly prided
LEWD DID ILI yE & EVIL I DID DWELL_
“This,"• says he, "is the same backward
as forward, and I. will .givo any man five
shillings apiece fur as many as he can
make.'!
TUC FARMER AND THE
"Why do you not hold up your head. as I
do ?" inquired an aristocratic lawyer of a
farmer.
"Squire," replied the :farmer, "look at
that field of grain—all the valuable heads
hang down, while.those that have nothing
in them stand upright." • ,
The retort courteous was fully experi
enced by the• celebrated counsellor, Jack
Lee, on the northern' circuit, Being, en
gaged in examining one Mary Pritchard,
of Barnsley, ho 'began with :
Maty,..if I. may . credit whoa
hear,-I may tenture . to,adtiress' you . by Ahe
name of Black Moll."
"Faith, you may, master lawyer," said
she, "for I am always called so by the
blackguards."
A. gentleman in this town having his
little daughter in his arms, , was asked by
her to catch a Locofoco for her. Not
knowing what she meant; he enquired of
her where it. Was? She pointed to a Lo
cust on the fence, which he • eanght, - and
then asked her why she called it a Locefo=
co? The answer was because it makes
so much noise.—[Com. '
laThe Oregon Treaty was ratified on th 18t1t
of June, the anniversary of the battle of Waterloo-
r__T-Socrates, the wisest anti oest - Cof this
Grecian philosophers, was - condemned, to
death under the false accusation of 'emitpt. 7
ing the minds or the' voutlf, l 'aid, •ei , en at
this enlightened ago, tote 'Writ 'of 'barbar:
ism still manifests itself in cmidentnintOM
tried and unheard, any
,neW'SyStain or ink
provement.that may be inifodOett.''„bifi.7