Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

UNIVERSITY OF GEORGIA LIBRARY VOLUME II. NUMBER 7 PUBLISHED WEEKLY, BY JOHN H. CHRISTY, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. Terms of Subscription. TWO DOLLARS per annum, if paid htrictly in aj itaca: otherwise,THREE DOLLARS will be chirped \t7j~ In order that the price ul the papei inay not be in tbs wayofa large circulation, Clubs will be supplied st the lui'.owing low rates. iJ^SIX^OPIESfor - - - M these low rates, the Cash must accompany the order. AT COST FOR CASH! WING to a change in our business, we of fer our stock of Rates of Advertising. Transient advertisements will be inserted at One Dollar per.square for the first, and Fifty Cents per square for each subsequent insertion. Legal and yearly advertisements at the usual rates Candidates will be charged $5 for announcements, and obituary noticesexeeeuingsix lines in length will be charged as advertisements. When the numher of insertions is not markedon and edvertisement, it will be published till forbid, and charged accordingly. ^usintas null ^rnfossinnnl tola JOHN hT (ThiTiSTY^ PLAIN AND FANCY Book and Job Printer, “ Franklin Job Office,” Athens, Ga. •*, All work entrusted to his care faithfully, correctly and punctually executed, at prices cowespond- janl8 ing with the hard ness W the times. tf C. 1J LOMBARD DENTIST, ATHWS, GEORGIA. Rooms over the Store of Wilson tc Veal. Jan3 PITNER & ENGLAND. * Wholesale & Retail Dealersi u Groceries, Dry Goods, HARE H ARE, SHOES AND BOOTS, April 6 Athexs, Ga. MOORE & CARLTON, DEAI.EGS IX SILK, FANCY AND STAPLE GOOJ)S, HA RD WARE AND CROCKER Y. April No. 3, Granite Row. Athens, Ga. LUCAS & BILLUPS, WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALERS IN DRY GOODS, GROCERIES, HARDWARE, Ac. Ac No. 2, Broaii Street. Athens. 0 Dry Goods, Shoes, Hard ware, Hats, Caps and Crockeryware, and tnnuy other desirable goods, at cost, for cash. Persons wishing bargains will do well to CALL SOON. B»“A9 there will be a change iu our busi ness, we desire all persons indebted to us, ei ther by note or open account, to call soon and yettle. Respectfully whim, .in-, i W. F. «L J."U.TintNER. ftlisrellmnj. FASHIONABLE Ready-made Clothing. LILLY LEIGH—A BEAUTIFUL STORY. BY MARION IIARLANE * ►“Oh 1 many a hopeless love, like this,may be, For love will live, that never looks to win Gems rashly lost in Passion’s stormy sea. Not to be lifted forth when once cast in !” Mrs. Noetox, “ Letters, sir!” The merchant withdrew his eyes from his ledger, as they were laid upon the desk. There was n large package— some stamped with foreign postmarks— some bulky with “ monev enclosed”— inscribed in every variety of business handwriting; and from among the broad yellow and brown envelopes, peeped out one much smaller, of pure white, and directed in a lady’s delicate charac ters. He took it up. “It seems familiar, yet I cannot say that 1 know the hand—what name ?” He turned the sheet—'* Lilly Leigh!” As if the waves of time had reversed their motion, came rolling in upon him a spring tide of memories; panoramas of youth’s own coloring; mountains BAYNON & RICH A RE now receiving and offering for sale a large and beautiful assortment of ready made clothing,for men and buys, ofthe latest fashion, and of the most approved style of goods, suitable for the fatl and winter trade. _ _ Among them will be found a fine supply of I green to their very tops; forests full of gentlemen's coats, pants and vests, very tine, und of the most fashionable style, made to order, and of the best work, fully equal to customer work. --..ALSO.*.. A general assortment of Furnishing goods, such as hats,caps, shirts and drawers, under shirts of various qualities, stocks, cravats, handkerchiefs and ties, collars, gloves, half hose and umbrellas. Also, Trunks, valises, and carpel bags. ....ALSO nooks and purling rills, and untracea- ble labyrinths ; orchards blushing with peach blossoms; wide reaching mea dows of odorous clover; and a white village etnbosomec in trees passed before him, moving to music unheard of late, except in dreams—music of glancing feet and flute-like laughter, and the heart’s utterance of affection. '* Lilly Leigh !” In those days, the pretty alii- STAPLE DRY GOODS. repeat it again and again, while she was yet a stranger; and alter his ear had be come accustomed to the sound, be lov ed to conjure up, by its repetition, the cd Canton flannel, 3 4,7-8,4-4. Shirtings of v i s j on Q f th 0 s e arch or earnest eyes, that various qualtiies, Irish linen for diapers • Among which will he found black alpacca, plaid and checked ginghams, plaid and check ed muslins, calicoes and shirtings, 5-4, 10-4, 11-4, of a very fine quality. Red, blue and white flannels, all wool. Brown and bleach WILLIAM G. DELONY, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Office over the store til IVni M. Morton Sc Son Will attend promptly to all busiuesseutrust- cd to his care. Athens, April 6 P. C. LANGSTON, Attorney nt Law, C.1RNES V1LLE, GA. Refeuexcks.—C. Peeples.Esq. ) W. L. Mitchell, Esq. \ Athcus Col. B.F.IIardemau, Lexington, Samuel Freeman, Esq. Newnan, (labrid Sash, B»q. lisnitlrriHe Col. H. Uolsey, Ainericus. 1\ A. SUMMEY & BROTHER, Wholesale and Retail Dealers in Staple Goods, Hardware, Crockery, AND ALL KINDS OF GROCERIES, Corner of Wall and Broad streets, Athens. * WILLIAM N. AVIIITE, WHOLESALE AXP RETAIL BOOKSELLER AND STATIONER, AndNcwnpapcr andj\lagaiine Agent. DEALER IX MUSIC and MUSICAL INSTRUMENl'S LAMPS, KINE CUTLERY, FANCY GOODS, AC. No. 2, College Avenue, Newton House, Athens, Ga sign of •• While’s University Bookstore.” Orders promptly filled at Augusta rates. tTbisiiop & SON, Wholesale and Retail Grocers, April 6 No. 1, Broad street, Athens. JAMES M. ROYAL, HARNESS-M AKER, H AS removed his shop to Mitchell’s old Tavern, one door east of Grady & Nich- olsou’s—where he keeps always on hand a general assortment of articles inhisline, aud is always ready to fillordersinthe best style. Jan 26 tf LOOK HERE! T HE undersigned have on hand a general assortment of STAPLE DRY GOODS, GROCERIES AND HARDWARE. which they will sell low for cash or barter Cull and examine. April 13 P. A. SUMMEY & BRO. $150 to $200 per Month!! I WILL send instructions by which auy person can make from $150 to $200 per month, without traveling or peddling, and with the smallest amount of capital. This is no receipt of any kind whatever. I will for ward the above instructions and all the arts and receipts of value, as advertised in the different papers of the United States, free of postage, to nny person sending me the small •um of one dollar, post paid. E. S. SHIPLEY, Kingston, Df( V Ross Count/, Ohio. black, white, mixed and made hoes for ladies, and Misses; also a fine lot of ladies plaid long shawls, very fine, all wool, and many other articles not mentioned. All of the above goods mill be sold as cheap as they can lie bought in Georgia, and we re spectfully solicit a liberal portion of public patronage, and would invite all our friend and former patrons to give us a call and ex amine our goods and prices, we shall not fear the result. Be sure to call at the New Cloth ing Store,on Broad street, Athens, Ga. Oct. 12. NEWCL0THING! rpllE undersigned are uow receiving and X opeuing their Spring Stock o£ Clotking, at their old staud, oposite the Pusl-Oifice on college avenue, Athens, Georgia, where they will be glad to see all of their friends and customers, aud any one who wants to buy I^GOOD AND CHEAP^FI m 'us .si •■•a ■■ to '■ "an Their stock has been selected from the best manufacturers in New York, and being bought near the close of the season, they were bought from eight to twelve per cent, cheaper than those bought earlier in the season. We therefore confidently believe that we will sell you goods a little cheaper than you can buy the same article at any other store in the place. Our stoclf consists of all kinds of MEN’S WEAR, Such os Black and Fancy colored Frock and business Coats; Black and fancy colored Cassimere Pants, and all kinds of black thin Coats and Pants; Also brown Buff and White Linen Coats and Pants; Also a general variety of Vests of all the differentkinds; and a good assortment of BOYS’ CLOTHING. Also men’s Shirts antidrawers, undershirts, silk and gauze; Shirt collars, and collar boxes, Stocks, Cravats, and Handkerchiefs, Cotton and Linen; Half-hose; Linen,Silk and Kid Gloves, of all kinds; also Portmonies, uid silk Purses, and Hair, Hnt and Coat Brushes, and pocket and coarse Combs; also a good assortment of Gingham and black and colored Silk, and Umbrellas and Carpet Bags, and Trunks. We have constantly on hand the very best chewing Tobacco and fine Cigars, a good as sortment. We invite all buyers of the above articles to call and see us and let us show you our goods. WILSON A VEAL. May 4 Coack-Making and Repairing. JAMES bTbURPEE, A T the old stand recently occupied by R. S. Scheveuell, offers for sale a lot of superi or articles of his own manufacture, ut redu ced prices—consisting ot Carriages, Buggies, &c. Orders for any thing in his line thankfully received and promptly executed. ^©“Repairing done at short notice and on reasonable terms. DISSOLUTION: will be continued by J. II. Christy—by whom the debts of the late concern will be paid, and who alone is au thorized to collect the demands due to it. JOHN H. CHRISTY, Athens, Jsn II 1855. WILLIAM KELSEA. NOTICE. T HE subscribers arc prepared to fill orders for all kinds of Spokes for Carriages and Wagons, Also, nt the same establishment we manufac ture all kinds of BOBBINS, commonly used in our cotton factories. All done as good und cheap as can he had from tho North. Address, P. A. SUMMEY & BUO. Athens, G*. who will ntteud to all orders, und the ship- ping of the same. March, 1854. F RESH Gandies and Maple Sugar, receiv ed this day and for sale by Apl 10. 1>. N. JUD30N. Pay up! Pay up! T HE undersigned most earnestly requests all persons indebted to the late Anns of CHairrv.KsuEi tc Busks, and ChbistySc Kkub*—as also those owing him individually—to Pay up at oner: Many of these claims have been outstanding a long time, and iu mustabsolutely be settled without delay. He trusts that a sense of right and justice will lead every one indebted to settle np immediately If, how ever. it shall turn out that be is mistaken in this, he will be forced, however reluctantly, to“ try what virtue 8 here is iu’ Janie J. U. CHRISTY. TAKE NOTICE. A CCOUNTS for the last quarter are now due, and payment thereof required. My terms are cash, or three months. Ap5 WM. N. WHITE. C A Bags of new crop Rio Coffee, for sale, UU low, by T. Bishop Son. March 22. P RESERVES—Ginger and Chow-chow Preserves, and all sorts of PICKLES,for sale by P. A SUMMEY & BRO. to a mere acquaintance said so little to a friend, so much ; or the fascination of the smile that circled her mouth like a golden ripple upon the waters, Joy ous spite though she was, there were now and then flashes of poetic gems and glimpses of thought, mines that betray- ed the secrets of the inner world. They were kindred minds—therefore, friends But why this letter ? He read. The first line banished the color from his cheek ; concern turned fast to surprise 1o deep, dcon gi'ud-—to remorse—auA more than one large tear blurred the pages ere it was concluded. “ They have told me that I must die; it may he to day—it may be for weeks but that my time upon earth is very, very shqft They broke it to me care fully, lest dread of death should hasten his approach. They did not know that to me he has long been in sight; not ns he appears generally to the young—a speck upon the horizon, terrorless in his remoteness and uncertainty; but, sleeping or waking, for three^years, he has never left my side. I have notacourt- cd his presence; ot that sin I am guilt less, although sorely tempted. I did not bare my bosom to the stroke, but I do not recoil from his iron clutch, i lament over my wasted life and misdi rected energies, yet I do not pray to live. Heaven is opening above me—earth crumbling under my feet ; strange that my half-relased soul clings to its earthly loves! It will, not let them go. I would not be forgotten—1 cannot bear to think that my memory will decay with iny body. I would have it kept fresh as the sods that will close over my form—not watered with tears, but with the dews of peaceful remembrance, and brigh tened by hope’s sunlight. To one, my spirit turns with irrepressible longings —I. would once more look upon your face! Doyou remember one summer after noon that we spent together in the beach- wood ?—The spot is before me now— the interlacing boughs, the shaded pool, dark, unless one stood directly above it, and then, far into its depths might be seen shining pebbles and snow-white sands; the fringe tree bowing to kiss its image on the glassy surface; the moss grown bench of stone 1 Have you for gotten these? The only sound save ripple of the stream, was your voice as you read a mournful story of temptation, of persecution for truth’s sake—“The Forest Sanctuary.” I leaned against the sacred stem of the old beech. Tears now and then stole down my cheeks, but I was happy ; I dreamed as I had no right to dream—that this, our sanctua ry, was ours alone. I thought how wel come would suffering and exile he, with love to console and guide. Passing lovely was the woven tissue, aud like the beaded gossamer at morning, a single touch destroyed it forever. You put by the book aud spoke. Still I listened unawakened. You told of trials that had visited even your young heart, and fancy sprang forward to the anticipation of the precious privilege of comforting that heart, in every distress, the future had instore. Then came the history of a sister—your twin sister—‘young, lov ing and beloved'—who had faded with the spring flowers, and was laid to rest amid the summer’s bloom—above whose head the magnolia’s petals were not more stainless tliau her soul, nor more fragiant than her opening heart. I wept because your voice grew unsteady and one else had penetrated, since Emily died—would 1 take her place? Asa sister you loved me—I must return a brother’s love.’ I could have shrieked as the words tore through my brain, but l sat, shocked, and’paralyzed. Black ness curtained me on every side ; I saw no more the sun nor the distant bright fields, or the glossy loilage above—all of light and beauty was gone 1 My eyes were drawn to the pool—so still and deep—and I thought of the Dead Sea that had swallowed up my dreamland. Its salt waves dashed up to my lips ; but when I beat them back ! a wild longing crept over me; and sand asJ pebbles were the only bright things Vft; ope could sleep so sweetly witfi lhit waters fora winding sheet; sleep! and never awake to misery 1 Once I had nearly made the plunge, but nature trembled upou the brink, and you arose, with a jesting inquiry as to the water-spirits I seemed to seek. A jest! Back—back returned my strength and pride—the child had passed in that one moment in to the woman ! “ Lilly !” you said, ’you do not scorn my proposal V ’No ;’ I answered distinctly ; ‘I am proud of it.’ ‘You will call me ‘Horace’—not ‘Mr. Merely,’ now, Lilly ?’ And 1 smiled as I repeated ‘Horace, brother!’ “The rest ofourparty returned from their woodland ramble, and night only checked the revel that followed—and I led the dance and song. Man may mourn for love unrequited, aud find commiseration ; woman must bury hers in seciet, and plant gaudy flowers and burn flaming torches about its tomb. Men pity with a pity more humbling than contempt; and her own sex, in their relentless ostracism of one who has given unsought, that which the most ab ject idolatry should hardly win, are steel ed against her. There is, at heart, a stern satisfaction in contemplating the due measure of punishment heaped up on the traitress. I was aware of all this ; 1 may have felt something of it myself in happier days end I guarded my se cret as hundreds of others have done; for suffering has made me wiser and more tender. 1 have seen the gladness go out from young eyes, and restless anguish take its place; have heard, be tween peals of mirth, the sigh, like the discord of a broken harp-string; have watched the sinking of body and mind, that baffled human skill ; and l know that an aching heart answered mine, pang Tor pang. Ohs deride'not this most sacred of sorrows! Like the foun tain of Undine, the removal of the stone that conceals it, brings swift death to the unhappy Possessor. “You sought your city home in the autumn; it was not until mid-winter,that the slight cold, brought on by exposure upon some gala night, assumed a type that awoke the solicitude of my friends To allay their feaas, I nursed my phy sical ailment; I bad no hope myself; the wish to live, that poteut auxiliary to the physician’s art, was wanting. Nature could not he restored without it. “ The rest is soon told I am here in my chamber, on this balmy afternoon supported by pillows, instead of roving in the free nir and glorious sonsliine.or coursing through the country upon my Blank Declarations, O F both forms, (long and short) together with the process attached—just printed otKtr°Blaiiks ** Also ’ TariouB J sunk beneath the bru Jen of emotion, and P^TAnv Blanks not on hand—as, indeed, j you thanked me for my sympathy. ^almost any kind of job printing—can be fur-1 bad ‘ gone farther into the holiest reces- ! hished on a few hours’ notice.- | ses of your heart,’ you said, ‘than any noble gray. These attenuated fingers will never grasp his rein again. I shall sit no more by the shaded spring ! • ••**• “ You will not despise me for having written this; in so doing, 1 am guided by no blind impulse. Earthly frailties and prejudices will soon be to me ns though they had never existed, and the love, for which I do not blush before Him in whose presence I hope to dwell forever, does not shame me. It may have been weakness at first—it is not sin now. Something tells me that you should know it—perchance in the day of trial it will recur to you, bringing reassurance and comfort: it may teach you that there is affection unswayed by interested motives; that devotion unto death,’ is no unmeaning phrase. And when one, fairer and dearer, shall walk lovingly on with you, cherish her for my sake! 1 shall not be far away; the happiness, which in life I would have sacrified all to promote, can never be forgotten. She will hold it injjher hands- may she be worthy of the trust—and love you as I have done! “ It is hard to write. ‘ Farewell!’ if I could see you for but one hour 1 It may not be—His will be done! We shall meet again—if not here, here after! Lilly Leigh.” She did not bint a reproach, but he felt like a murderer. He recollected how unreservedly be had abandoned himself to the luxury of that long vaca tion from town and business—how when he found h<*r society the most choice recreation the country could offer he had sought it constantly, not attempt ing to disguise the pleasure it gave him he had even assured her that he was free from all pre-engagement, and smiled as he marked the deepening rose on her face, at this uncalled for avowal; he had left untried no art of pleasing; and she an artless girl—almost a child, ignorant of “ flirtations” and “ conquests,” and dreaming only of love! Every word pierced him to the soul. The whole world were valueless in comparison with this true heart, but the knowledge of its possession had come too late! “ Mother, I should like to l'e on the couch by the window.” “ But, ray love, the evening air— “ It cannot hurt me now.” • The mother turned away her head, but she offered no further objection, and the change was made. The siek girl lay looking out into the purplish grey twilight of a June evening. A few stars twinkled through the thin wreaths of vapor, raised by the heat of the sun from the teeming earth ; the breeze had died away at sunset, and the catalpas, with their broad leaves pen cilled darkly against the faintly illumi nated west, looked almost awful in their perfect repose; but from the ground went up a hymn, as from a thousand fairy trumpeters, piping their paeans of praise and thankfulness. Each blade of grass had its insect musician, and the wailing note of the whip-poor-will, softened by distance, mingled not ur.- harmoniously in the concert. It was an hour such as makes the soul in love with life and this lovely earth, an hour for thoughts of love and joy and hope. What were the meditations of her, upon whom death had set his visible seal— doomed in the morn of existence to for sake this world of warmth and beauty, for the damps and shades of the grave ? There was no apprehension in the pale, sweet face; no despondency in her tone when she at last spoke. “ I am very happy to-night, mother.” “ And why, my darling ?" “Everything is so beautiful, and within there is such peace ! The veil is growing thinner and thinner; there are tones in the air that I never heard in the evening song before ; my timo is draw ing near. Perhaps I shall not see another sunset—those angel voices will call me away. Mother, oh, mother! say that you are willing to let me go.” There was no response in words, only a choking sob and a passionate straining of the fragile form to her bosom. “ It will not be for long. Think of the rapture of our meeting after a few days of separation, and the bliss of our eternal communion ! There will be no tears, no partings, no wounded spirits there.” “ My child! my child 1 pray that may submit.” “I have prayed; you will be sup ported,” said the girl, with a look of sublime confidence. “ He has given his promise, ‘ I will not leave you com fortless’ You will have my blessings lelt.’ I, of all your flock, have occas ioned you most anxiety. You do forgive tnr, dear mother ?'■ “ Why speak of forgiveness, my own one? You have always been dutiful and affectionate.” . “ Still, I have brought hi;ter sorrow upon you. I review with shame and contrition my self-indulgence, my reck lessness of life, my ungrateful rebellion at my lot. These are things belonging to the past: you will forget them ; or, if you remember, believe that it was not without a struggle that I yielded to feel ings too strong for me to subdue. It is a sad story, mother. 1 will not grieve you further by telling it, you might think hardly of another for his agency in producing my unhappiness: and I alone am to blame.” The poor mother neither comprehend ed nor wondered ; grief mastered curi osity. Her child . was dying—this thought swallowed up t-very other. Voices sounded in the adjoining room— agitated questions and low replies. The invalid started, unaided from her pillow “ Father, I thank thee !” k she exclaim ed, as she sank back. A sister stole in to announce the arri val ; a single glance told her that it was teedless precaution. She simply asked, “ May he come in ?” A gesture assented. “ Horace!” “ Lilly 1” For a long time these were the only words of greeting. They watched her through all that night; each felt that it was her last. There was unutterable sorrow in that chamber. The hoary-licaded father stood at the foot of the bed, erect and dignified still, in figure, but with big tears making yet deeper the furrows of his time-worn countenance; the mother and sisters stifling, as far as possible, their emotions, hung around her, jealously watchful of an opportunity to render the kind offices she would soon need no more, On none did the terri ble conviction of her near departure seem to fall with such crushing weight as upon the wbilome brilliant worldling. He bathed the wasted hands with tears, and covered the burning brow with kisses. He prayed—if that could be called prayer, which reproached rather than supplicated—a frenzied pleading for life—her life—if purchased by an age of torment to himself! In vain 1 in vain! The death-dews arose thickly to her forehead as fast as they were wiped away. She was going! calm and lovely to the last—too weak at times to speak, but telling, by her heavenly smile and uplifted eye, of sable weeper, ceased to agitate the from his existence, her tears bedew his minds of his business acquaintances and j grave. Can I look down upon her tomb- the tongues of his female friends. The'without emotion? Man has always dejection w’ore away by degrees, the justice done to his memory—woman weeper grew rusty ; was removed and j never. The pages of history lie open to- not replaced; the billows of worldly ! the one ; but the meek and unobtrusive passion and interest swelled higher and ! excellencies of the other sleep with her higher around the once green island of bis heart, until they engulphed it—not sparing even her flower-bound grave. He was a man again 1 with a man’s glo rious prerogatives, to make a mock at feelingand affection.and borrow their lan guage to deceiv e a trusting dupe; to scout at romance,and battle in liis own omnipotence with realities; to heap to gether wealth,and write his name proudly among the earthly great; all these he did and gained. And Lilly sleeps in the obscure churchyard ; the green hillock that covers her, overrun with violet and the blue-eyed “ forget-me-not,” although untended now by him; and at her head are engraved words-placed there by(his orders, during the first transports of sorrow for which he despises himself now ; words, which, in view of his dust- dry heart, read like a fulfilled pro phecy— “Blessed are the early dead i” Richmond Va. ♦Authoress of “Alone”—a Virginia novel. unnoticed in the grave. In her hare shone the genius of the poet, with the virtue of the saint; the energy of the man with the tender softness of the woman. HEROISM OF A WIFE. During the late dreadftd tornado which passed over Mississippi,' tearing up trees, blowing down houses and kill ing cattle, an incident occurred near Paulding, in that Slate, which is worthy of record : A young married couple were alone in the forest, occupants of a new home, and distant two miles from the nearest neighbor. They had retired to rest, and were absorbed in slumber, when the roar of the hurricane, like a sono rous wailing through the primeval trees, and fierce wind struck their house tum bling the logs around and about them. The lady, after much effort, succeeded in extricating herself, but found to her momentary dismay, that her husband was entombed in the wreck of their dwelling, and that it would be impossi ble for her to relieve him unaided. She reflected but a moment, when, turning to her husband, she uttered some cheer ing words, and announced her determi nation to go in quest of assistance, Forth she went, in the midst of the howling storm, the winds singing a re quiem over the ruin they had caused and the stately trees still crashing in their fall before the omnipotence of the tempest. But she heeded not the dan ger; buoyed by a strong affection, she moved onward, an incarnation of hero- ismjand self sacrificing love, through the hurricane’s track, and reached unharm ed the residence of her neighbor. As sistance was procured, and her husband restored to as true a wife as ever hal lowed with felicities the life of man An Irish lawyer having lost his client’s case, which had been tried before three judges, one of whom was esteemed a very able lawyer, and the other two but indifferent ones, some of the other bar risters indulged iu a good deal of mer riment on the occasion. “ Well, now,” said the vanquished counsellor, “who the devil could help it, hen there were a hundred judges on the bench ?" A hundred,” said a by-standsr, why, man, there was but three.” “ By St. Patrick,” replied the defeat ed lawyer, “ and how do you make out there’s only three ? There were one and two cyphers." A MOTHER’S PRAYER. A mother had heard ofthe arrival of her sailor-boy outside the Cape, and was awaitiug his return with the anxiety a mother alone can know. With faith strong in God, she prayed for his safety. News came that the vessel was lost.. The father, an unconverted man, who had preserved a sullen silence, now wept aloud. The mother observed, He is in the hand of Him who doellt all things well,” and again the subdued and softened spirit bowed, commending her son and her husband, in an audible voice, to God. In the morning, the little gate in front of the dwelling turned on its hinges,the door opened, and their son, their lost, loved son, stood before them. The ves sel had been driven into one of the har bors on the coast, and was safe. The. father rushed to meet him. His mother, hanging on his neck, earnestly exclaim ed, “ My child, how came you here ?” * Mother,” said he, as the tears cours ed down his sun-burnt face, “ I knew you'd pray me home." What a spectacle : a wild, reckless youth, acknowledging the efficacy of prayer. It seems he was aware of his perilous situation, and that he labored with the thought, “My mother prays ; Christians’ prayers are answered, and V may be saved.” This reflection, when almost axhausted with fatigue, and ready to give up in despair, gave him fresh strength, and with renewed courage lie labored till the harbor was gained. Christian uiothtr, pray for that son who is likely to be wrecked in the storm of life, and his prospects blasted forever. He may be saved.—Am. Messenger, peace! At dawn they opened the windows to give her air; it was the agony ot the passing breath. “ Horace, raise me!” He laid her head against his breast; her lips moved; he bowed to catch their sound : “ This is sweet.” An attempt to join the hands in prayer; an unearthly beam from the closing orbs; the rising sun shot through the case ment upon a group of mourners! * Months rolled by. The conjectures as to Morcley’s clouded countenance and A SKULL WITH A TONGUE When Dr. John Donne, the famous English pott and divine of the reign of James I., attained possession of his first living, he took a walk into the church yard, where the sexton was at the time digging a grave, and in thlkourse of his labor threw up a skull. This skull the doctor took into his hands, and lound rusty headless nail sticking in the tem ple of it, which he drew out secretly and wrapped in the corner of his handker chief. He then demanded of the grav digger whether he knew whose skull that was. He said it was a man’s who kept a brandy shop—an honest drunken fel low, who one night having taken two quarts, was found dead in his bed the next morning. “Had he a wife ?” “Yes.” “ What character does she hear ?” “ A very good one : only the neigh bors reflect on her because she married the day after her husband was buried. This was enough for the doctor, who, under the pretence of visiting his parish ioners,called on the woman. He asked several questions, and among others what sickness her husband died of.— She giving him the same account he had received before, he suddenly opened the handkerchief and cried in an authorita tive voice— “ Woman, do you know this nail ?” She was struck with horror at the un expected demand, instantly owned the act, and was brought to trial and exe cuted. Truly might one say with even more point than Hamlet, that that skull had a tongue in it. The Tomb of a Woman.—For my self I can pass by the tomb of a man with somewhat of indifference; but when I survey the grave of a female, a sigh involuntarily escapes me. With the name of woman I associate every soft, tender, and delicate affection. I think of her as the young and bashful virgin, with eyes sparkling, and cheeks crimsoned with each impassioned feeling of her heart; as the kind, affectionate wife, absorbed in the exercises of her domestic duties; as the chaste and virtu ous matron, tired of the follies of the world, and preparing for that grave in to which she must soon descend. Oh! Abuse or the Naturalization Pro cess.—Of all the motives and incentives (says the N. O. Picayune) that have pro duced that immence political revolution which is now sweeping over the coun try, prostrating old party organizations, defeating the plans and schemes of party leaders, exposing and overthrowing old and corrupt modes of managing nomi nations and elections, none has been more potent and effective than a con viction that the naturalization laws of the land are systematically and unscru pulously abused for party purposes. Thrown upon our sjiores by political convulsions, or impelled to seek an asylum here by poverty and the hope of bettering their condition, myriads ofthe subjects of European Governments are constantly swelling the number of our population To state the yearly amount of this increase at a half u million would not be to exaggerate ; ami this mass of immigration is made up of elements of the most discordant character. While a large portion of it is respectable, hon est and industrious, not only able but willing to devote itself, peacefully and assiduously, to the discharge of ail tiie duties of a good citizen, there is anoth er very considerable partio-\ which,, ignorant of our institutions and our laws,, often of of language, and by the' neces sity ofthe case, entirely uuembued with, that native and traditional sentiment that underlies the national character, and irresislably promotes the vigor and permanency of our institutions^ cannot, reasonably be supposed to lve qualified to take an immediate part iu the politi cal affairs of the country. Besides these two classes of immi grants, experience has taught us that there is a third, and this a fearfully in creasing one ; we mean- that which is made up of the pauperism and even the: crime of the old world.. That the great question of deciding the character of our Municipal, State, and National Governments should be left subject to the uninformed, unen lightened, and in many, very many in stances, the corrupt action of such a population as wc have described, must strike every reflecting mind as an abuse ofthe most glaring and dangerous char acter. What wonder that, seeing what use is constantly made of it by partisans for party purposes, there should have- sprung up a determination on the part there is something in contemplating the _ character of a woman that raises the ; of those whose dearest interests are iiu- soul far above the vulgar level of society, j perilled by it, to put a stop to- it at tho She is formed to adorn and humanize earliest possible period ? mankind, to soothe his cares and strew his path with flowers. In the hour of If you are ever tempted to purchase distress she is the rock on which he leans anything on credit, put it ofi’ for three for support, and when fate calls him days. You need time for reflection.