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"W 'a J. i- i-.i"- i.
3ifklip Slgrirnlturr, 't!;? Slrts unb $rif nf w, Jtlornlr.; 3ftlt rljntiirs, JJinrkrts, c&f ncra iittllignicc, tljr Dissrujtimtioif of 'Dnnorrntic -rinfiiJlfJlf.
ASHLAND, ASHLAND COUNTY, OHIO, WEDNESDAY MORNING, OCTOBER as
? Bnsincsss fcivcctory.
NJAS. STEWART 1 -- .Pkes't Jddoe.
A. L. CURTIS.----PponATK Judge.
J. SHERIDAN : -Clerk C. C. Pleas.
- ALEX. PORTER, i--- -Pros. Arr'r.
ISAAC GATES -Atjditoe.
JAMES W.BOYD--- -Treaschek.
JOHN D. JONES--- Sheriff.
"ASA'S. REED- J Recobdeh.
"ORLOW SMITIT-.l- -Surveyob.
JOHN G. BROWN ----- -CoUoner.
' 3EO. M'CONNELL )
- LUKE SELBY, Commissioners.
" AMOS HILBORN, )
. DAVID BRYTE, ) Infirmary
' PATRICK KELLEY, d1REctorZ
- "WILSON BOTDORF, j Directors.
GEORGE W. HILL -Ashland.
ORLOW SMITH -Sullivan.
J McCORMICK--- -Locbonville.
. : borough officers.
' WM. "RALSTON -"- r Matok.
J MUSGRAVE .-Lc-iREcoEDER.
" WALLACK-. - .Treasurer.
R P. FULKERSON Marshall.
"aI drums, - i .
- S. G. WOODRUFF, 1 Trustees.
II. AMES, f .
" T. C. BUS H N ELL. J -
WILLIAM ZIMMEKSiAN, Proprietcrj Row
hr(.AsbUud coButy, Ohio.
'I My 31, 18M.-ng-t: :
- EHPIBE HOUSE,
A XROS. Ohio ; G. BAYNOLD8. lroprietoT.
juuqi W. I8j n35-tt.
no ..wwkin1eHe tonno-jncf tlit.
L it, cpeMMt Hotel, to bec.llea the"MriTF
rrT. J,rocU r uppo'i": the iupell House.
t?rhtret. A.hUud, od re.pectrully olicit.m
kanof the public patronage. - m.muuui.
... Aahlaed.MerchWnu., lw&. n4.-f.
' JL for term ol yeeM.ie.pecUolly olicit a abare
f thejublpairooage. No effort will be .pared
Jof..i.tertnbecoiiirortof all who may faTor
hi. with .call.' D.J.RICE.
' JeromeTille. o. 30 1853. ' aatf.
! rllAPIKlLIN HOUSE.
HATING leaaed the aboe Bamed Bona for a
termor year., the onder.igned reapectlully
eiicit. a.hare ol the public Pt'VVe; f'"
will beapared to make comlorlable all those who
t kin WiU,L'l7lAM ROBISSCK.
- J.hlaad.yOT.aa.IPS3- xt
JOSEPH DKYrA'RMAS. having again tafceo the
.beve Hon, will be prepared to cc.''od.le
lavorhira with a call.
W. B. McCAUT
, at .. aad Justicf , ' '".
TlflLL promptly attend to atlb ; Je i eotruated
W t b!. care.' lCrOrr,o. co, T of Mp ud
. -Chorch Stryta. . Juue 14,Jgl. 3tf
' . J. W.JOUSaTOS, ,-
Attorney mt Lav,
AiTuiclll.U Ailmnd COUatV.OlltO.
' 1 A ..ma to all buliPbWttb
abe legal proftyaiow.
Jaae 14. 154 3tf
ri, ui. I '
" ; WATSOS 4: PARKER,
jgtt.'t 4 C.rtr S,rr CAry;
axAVlSG rerrned a topartnenhip, will glye
" H -TimoLaUeotio. to all bu-iMe..eutru.ted to
abair care in thi.and .urroonamg coontie..
race aearly eppoait the Sampell Uvwe,
Aabland. No.a3d, IPS?.
- BOBEBT BEEB,
- Attorney and Councilor at Law.
y-bFFICE, oi Main Street, Wtrt of the Saiup-
ell Hook, Aabland, omo.
Aahlmad. May 84th. Iet-
. .aLlYt a w. KBUOO. I W1UUB
. KELLOCIG 4c ALLISON
: Attorney at Law and Solicitor in Chancery;
WILL attend to all profeeeioual buine. en
lri.icdtotiieirc.re, in ttala.nd djoming
..tie.. A.hlad,aoT.i;3d 1E53. 8tf
j. xv. sal ix ii,
. . Ulomey and Counteilor at Laws
..inB iwn, Stnrfl ofSaiBDaell dc Co. Bu.i
XJ .... i tbia and neighboring countie. prompt
- . lt.ddtO.
Aabland, Not. 23d,
. OOM.MOIt. I AI.BX.
- ' . j '7.-. m Lie.
'rtriLL.ttend promptly to all buaineaaentruated
, 4a. their care in mia aoo augomiHB
Offlca en corner of Main and Church elreete
Aakkkad OT.ie30. ieJ.
: .... rOLTOI. I ohb B.
,-- ,i i- i?ui.xar tc nccoiVB$i
Attorney and Counteilor at Lawt
v.v.!ii.n Munitrcel. over the Store 01 T.
AJ C. Ba.bnell, A.bland. AahlandConnty, O.
lfovmera3o. . .
' .' VHOSUS J.Bl'LL
' w.uwd7 .1- r aw and Jnatice of the
A. Peace. Loudooville, A.bland County, Ohio.
November 93d. 1853. tt6tf
J HU93, m
Practitioner of Medicine and Surgery,
ILL give prompt nttent'on to .11 call, in
: uim proteaaion.
Hayeavilie, July 6, 1S54.
: If. H. CLARK, JH. D., .
OFFICKoppoalteP: J. Riaaer'. Store,
Htreet, Ashland, Asbland county, Ohio.
A.bland, Feb. 14, 1854. .
t . ..... I.L.CBANE, M. .
. ' . . 8rr end Oculist,
' -OlFVICE, adjoining Millington'a Drag Store
-A.hland, April 19th, 1845 n4otl - , '
Oil, WM. JONES, - '
' - .l- l.r-tir Rrhnnt mf Medicine.-
-.iriKra v.t.d in K.rzlee Township. Aabland
-ii. County, Ohio, offera hi. professional aervicea
' toth. public generally.' Particular attention paid
' to Chronic diaeaaea. RbeumaU.m, Liver and Lung
ctmpUt.? old hore.. etc.. C.ce r'
. , r.. -.. Tumnra removed without tbe
inUe or Catle. . May 3, 14J-n50tf
XtR. THOMAS II AIT ES,
' n Afrdirine and Surgery i
r,viK1IH. Aabland ouuty.Obio. Alao. Juat-
O ice of the Peace and Notary Public
November 83d. 1853.
TTT jp. W. SAMFSEL, OT. .
- n.wu.iTi. tnr bml fiTon. respectfully an
1 oounce. that be haa resumed the practice of
Office In the Km
J? IZ'eot 1. B." V. 8.F-e' Co., Aabland ,0
i - May 17th. 1854.
DR. W. W. BIDDLE,
. . ProctaUntr tf M'dicins uud Surgery,
--TXriLLsttend to all 4oaines connected with his
i VV profession. Onic in lb. Centre of Troy, Ash
tamt county. Ohio. Ir4.
leitK r. JeromeviH. Ashland county. Ohio.
wya ArTITIftSRRK Or MK1
..March SGth, WM. - 45t
of w rn iri arsvBJ,
" XV I tl'ltk B1LSTOV,
WATCH AND CLOCK MAKER, Post Of
Ac. Buildios. Main street. Ashland.
(Ohio, Gold and Steel Pens, and . choice
variety of Jewelry, kept conaantlyon
hand. Wovembe SO. 3tf-
, B, GOODFELLOW,
IT7ATCH MAKER AND JEWEL-
W .... i T
-VffV"- . elry. Clocks, Yankee Notions, dec.
4 . -if Watcbea and Clocks repaired and
I warranted. Highest price paid for
fmirtnu old Gold and. Silver. Oppositeth.
.Ohio sotr , i"-"-
BT C.OItOE D. r.ESJTICE.
Til sad yet tweet to listen
To the soft wind's gentle swell,
And think we hear the music
Our childhood knew so well,
. To gnxe oot on the even.
And the boundless fields of air,
And feci again our boyhood's wish
To roam like angels there I
There ore many dreams or gladness
That cling mronnd the put .
'And from the tomb of .feeling -,
Old thoughts come thronging fast
The forma we love ao deariy ' --
In the nappy day now gone, .
. The beautiful and lovely,
Bo fair to look upon.
Those bright and gentle maidena
- Who seemed so formed for Mis,
Too glorious and too l.eaventy
. For such a world as 'his ! .
Whose dark soft eyes seemed swimming
la a ae. of liquid light,
And whose locks ot gold wre streaming
O'er brow, so sonny bright.
Whose smiles were like the sunshino
In the springtime of the year
Like the changeful gleams of April
They followed every tear !
They have passed like hope away,
" All their loveliness has fled
Oh -many a heart is mourning
That they v.re with the dead. . ..
Like the brightest birds of summer
They have fallen with the stem
Yet oh it is a lovely death
To fade from earth like them 1
And yet the thought is saddening
To muse on such as they
And feel that all the beautiful
i Are passing fast away !
That the fair ones whom we love.
Orow to eich loving breast
Like tcndails of the clinging tiuc
Then privh where they rest.
Anil we can but think- of these
In the soft and gentle spring,
When the trees are waving o'er us
' And the flower, are blossoming !
For we know that winter's coming.
With hi. cold and stormy sky
And the glorioat beauty round u.
Is budding but to die !
THE TOLLLHG BELL.
Not many months ago, in one of my
summer rambles. I found myself on a
beautiful Sabbath morning the guest of
a worthy and intelligent family, in a quiet
The early breaktast was over; parents
and children had joined in reading a
chapter in the Bible ; Mr. Sedgwich. the
head of the iainily, uad tnen oticrea op
a fervent praver, at the conclusion of
which wo all rose from our knees ; when
our ears were greeted by the dear deep
peals of the ringing church bell.
So late! " exclaimed Mrs. edgwicn
looking at the clock, "our time piece
must be slow."
" That is not tbe first bell for chureh,"
replied her husband solemnly. " There
has been a death in the village. The
bell is going to toll for Martin Lord ! "
Such then is his uuhappy end:
mused his wife. " Wcll.it will be wrong.
to mourn his death. If death was ever
a merciful providence, it if so in this
Is it a person who has been long
sick ? " I asked. : ' ;
Instead of answering my question di
rectly, Mr. Sedgwich said
" Ihere is a very melancholy history
connected with that young man. It is
now some time since the excitement oc
casioned by this strange tragedy died
away; but the tolling of tbe bell this
morning must bring it back forcibly to
every heart. ' remaps you wouio oe in
terested to hear the story r
I expressed my desire to listen to the
narration ; upon winch my friend gave
me the details of the following sory,
which I relate with only a slight devia
tion from the original :
' Martin Lord was once the flower and
the hope of one of the most respectable
families in the village. His amiable dis
position and superior intellect procured
for him universal love aud esteem.
Although of a slight figure, and pale
features, which indicated a constitution
by no means robust, Martin was remark
able for his uncommon beauty, aud in
deed his fine noble forehead shaded by
locks of soft brown hair, bis large ex
pressive blue eyes, straight nose, with
thin Grecian nostrills, and rather volup
tuous mouth, entitled him in some mcas
urc to that consideration. .'
-Martin was a great favorite with the
ladies, old and young; but ho never
showed any marked partiality to any
one, until he became intimate with Isa
bella Ashton, the daughter of our late
clergyman, who died of griet about
- No two beings could be more different.
Isabella was the most thoughtless girl
in our village. Sbe could have little
sympathy with a person of such deep
feelings and elevated intellect as Martin
and beautiful as she was it seemed
strange that he should have given bis
love to her. There is no doubt but she
was attached to him : perhaps she loved
him as well as sbe was capable of loving
aDj one ; but in this instance, as in all
others,' her affections were secondary to
her love of sarcasm and mischief.
Martin and Isabella had been pointed
j out as lovers, by village gossips, for sev
eral mouths ; lie was low nineteen, and
she was oi the same nge, when tbc trag
edy occurred, which the tolliiig of the
bell h:is recalled to my memory.
It was on on autumn evcnn g, nearly
five 3'ears since, that Isabella took ad
vantage of the abseucc of licr father to
have a social gathering of young people
at their house. Martin, of course, was
present, with ihe fnirest youths, and
maidens ; aud being uuder no restraint
from the gravity of the clergyman, who
... .-Hi i.
was not expected nouic tin iaie, me
company enjoyed themselves freely witb
jests, songs, and social games.
The hour at winch 8uclir'artics usnany
broke up had already passed, and there
was uo relaxation ia the gaiety of the
young people, when some one foolishly
mentioned the subject of ghosts, some
thing of that description having been re
ported as seen in the vicinity - of the
" It is a silly report, said Martin.
Nobody - can believe that ghost was
eally seen there : and 1 doubt it a per
son hero believes at all in the existence
of ghosts." '
- ion do, yourself you Know you ao
Martin, although you are shamed to
..... - , T , ,, ... . ,
own it," cried Isabella. xut iamn
only laughed. Come now continued
the thoughtless girl " I can prove that
you have some idea that such things
may exist, uo to the churchyard alone
in the dark aud then declare, if you can,
that you have Jelt no fear. "
"And what would that prove r
" Why, you would be frightened,
though you should see nothing. Your
fears would put your belief to the test.
How could you be afraid if you did not
feel that there was something to be afraid
" I do not think your logic is the best
in the world," replied Martin, laughing.
' Men are often troubled with tear, when
their reason tells t'icin there is no cause
to fear. Bat I denj', in the first place,
that a journey to the churchyard, even
at midnight, would frighten me in the
"How bravely you can talk!" said
Isabella, indulging in her customary tone
of sarcasm. "But nobody here be
lieves you. I don't, at any rate. Why
... i. .i . . ii.
you liauu t courage cnouga me otner
day to help kill a rabbit; your motuer
told me so !
' I never like to causa or witness pain
f it can be avoided, '. auswured Marti:i,
blush i;:ir. . ;
'11a! ha! ha ! what an excellent ex
cuse ! You arc brave enough, to be sure,
but tender hearted. Come, now ; you
dare not go to the churchyard this night
alone. You are not half so courageous
as you would have us believe. Whether
you think there are ghosts or not, you
are afraid of them. "
Martiu was extremely sensitive; but
tbe sarcasm of nobody except Isabella
could have slung him so to the quick.
Scorning the imputation of cowardice,
he was ready to Uo almost any desperate
act to prove courage. "But," said he,
although I have uo more fear of church
yards and ghosts, than I have of orch
ards and nppletrees, I am not going to
walk half a mile, merely to be laurned
"Ha! ha! but vou shall no! escape
so ! " laughed Isabella. " Here, before
these our mends, 1 promise that this
ring shall bo yours," she continued, dis
i laving one given her by an old lover,
which Martin had ofteu desired her to
part with, " provided you go to the
churchyard alone, in the dark, aud de
clare, on your honor, when you return,
that you were not in the least afraid. "
Agreed," said Martin, buttoning
np his coat, for tbe night was chill.
"And as evidence tuat you go tue en
tire distance, you caii bring with you the
iron bar, which you will hud close Dy
the gate, " said Isabella. . ' -
Thus driven by taunts to the commis
sion of a folly, Martin took leave of the
company full of courage and spirit, and
set out on bis errand. "
It was near a quarter of a mile to the
churchyard, which was approached by a
lonely dreary path, seldom traveled ex
cent by mourners. .
It. is impossible to relate precisely
what happaned to Martin on that gloomy
road. I judge from the circumstances,
which alterwards came to light, and
conjecture his adventure must have been
as 1 am about to relate it.
Light as he was in frame, and tender
in bis feelings, he was not destitute of
courage. 1 do not think he was fright
ened by the sighing ot the wind, and the
rustling of the dry autumnal leaves, as
many stronger men might have been.
lie marched steadily to the churchyard,
stnnnoil a moment nnrlintis to raze sadlv.
ri r r o j
but not fearfully,, at the white tomb
stoucs gleaming faintly in tbe dark and
desolate ground, for the stars . shone
brilliantly in the clear cold sky ; then
shouldering the iron bar ot which Isa
bella had spoken, he set out to return.
He had proceeded about half waj
when, in tho gloomiest part of the road,
he saw a white figure emerge from
clump of willows and come towards him.
It looked like a walking corpse, in :
winding sheet, which trailed upon th
ground. All Martin's strength of nerve
was gone instantly. Courage gave place
to desperation, his hair standing erect
and his blood running chill with horror,
still he stood his ground. Ihe spector
drew hearer, seemed to grow whiter and
larger as it approached. We cannot
tell what freuzy seized upon the brain of
of the unhappy youth at that moment.
' The guests at the clergyman's house
heard terrifio screams. Dreading some
tragic termination to the farce, they
rushed to the spot, one of the number
carrying a lantern. They found Martin
kneeling on a prostrate figure, his fingers,
clutching convulsively its throat, while
he still uttered frantic shrieks for help.
His wild features of terror.
Only two of the most courageous
young men dared approach him. Oue
of them forced Martiu to relax his hold
on the throat of the figure, while the
other tore away tho folds of tbe sheet.
At the moment the bearer of the lantern
came fp. Its light fell on the blood
stained features of Isabella Martin ut
tered one more unearthly shriek, and
fell senseless upon the corpse. lie nev
er spoke again, but lived an idiot !
A frightful contusion on Isabella's
temple bore evidence that in his frenzy
he had struck the supposed spectre with
the iron bar. The blow was probably
the cause of her death ; although such a
grasp as his hands must have given her
throat, might alone have deprived her of
breath, lie never knew afterwards what
he had done, for never a gleam of rea
son illumined the darkness of his soul ;
and now the tolling bell has told us that
Heaven, iu its mercy, has fina'ly freed
the spirit from its shackles of clay, aud
given it light in a better. world.
THE LAST HOURS OF BEETHOVEN.
He had but one happy moment ia bis
life and that moment killed hini.; , '
He livcin poverty, driven into soli
tude by the contempt of the world, and
by the natural bent of a disposition ren
dered harsh almost savage, by the in
justice -of his cotemporaries. But he
wrote the subliinest music that ever man
or angel dreamed. He spoke to inan
kiud iu his divh e language, and tliey dis
dained to listen to him. He spoke to
them as Nature ppcaks in the celestial
harmony of the wiuds, the waves, the
singing of the birds amidst the woods.
Beethoven was a prophet, aud his utter
ance was from God.
Aud yet was his talent so disregarded
that he was destined more than once to
suffer- the bitterest agony of the poet,
the artist, tbe musician. He doubted
bis own genius.
llavdn himself could hud tor mm no
better praise than iu saying, " He is a
Thus it was said ot uericoult, lie
blends his colors wel! ;" and thus of Goc-
thej " He has a tolerable style, and he
commits no errors in orthography."
Beethoven had but one mend, and that
friend was Hummel. But poverty aaid
injustice had irritated him, aud he was
sometimes unjust himself. He quarrel-
d with Hummel, and for a long time
tliey ceased to meet. To crowu bis mis
fortunes, he became completely deaf.
Tlieu Beethoven., retired. to laden,
wucre uc liveu, lsoiaiea auu sau, in a
small house scarcely sufficing for his no-.
eessitics.' There his ot.ly pleasure was
in wandering amidsi the green aisles" of
beautiful forest iu the neighborhood of
the town. Alone with the birds and the
wild flowers, he would then sutler himself
to give scope to his geinus, to compose
his marvelous symphonies, to approach
the gates of heaven with melodious ac
cents, and to speak aloud to angels that
language which was too beautiful for bu
mau ears, and which human cars bad fail
ed to comprehend.
But 111 the midst of his solitary dreain
, , ,- , , 1 . 1
ing, a letter arrivca wnicu orougut. uuu
back, dispite himself, to tbe cares cf the
world, where new grieis awuiicu mm.
A nephew whom he had brought up,
and to whom he was attached by the
good offices which lie had himself per
formed tor the youth, wrote to impiore
his uncle's presence at Vienna. He had
become implicated in some disastrous
business, from which his elder relative
alone could release him.
Beethoven set off 0:1 his journey, and,
compelled by the necessity of economy
accomplised part of tbc distance 011 foot.
Oae evening he stopped before the gate
of a small, uieau-looking house, and so
licited shelter. He had ulready several
leagues to traverse before reaching Vi
0 ... . .1 11 11
enna, aud uis stengtu wouiu not auuw
him to continue any longer on the road.
They received him with hospitality ;
he partook of their supper, aud then was
installed in the master 's chair by the nre
When the table was cleared, tbe fath
er of the family aroso and opened an eld
clavecin. The three soi s took each" a
violin, and the mother and daughter oc
cunied themselves in some domestic
The father gave the key-note, and all
four began plaving with that unity aud
nrecision. that innate genious, which is
peculiar only to the people of Germany,
It seemed that they were deeply interes
ted iu what they played, for their whole
souls were in the instruments. The two
women desisted from their occupation to
listen, aud their gentle countenances ex
pressed the emotions of their hearts.
To observe all this was the only share
which Beethoven could take in what pas
sed, for be did not hear a single note.
Ho could only judge of their perform-
ance from the movements of the execu
tants, and the fire that animated their
When they had Clashed, they shook
each other's hands warmly, as if to con
gratulate themselves on a community of
happiness, and the young girl turew ner
self weeping into her mother's arms.
Then they appeared to consult together ;
they resumed their iustrumeuts; they
commenced again. This time their en
thusiasm reached its bight; their eyes
were filled wsth tears, and tbe color
mounted to their cheeks. ,' '
"My friends," said Beethoven,. " I
am very unhappy that I can take no part
in the delight which you experience, for
I also love- music, put you see 1 am so
deaf that I cannot hear anv sound. Let
me read this music that produces in you
such sweet and lively emotions.
He took t e paper in his hand, his eyes
grew dim. his breath came snort ana
fast ; then he dropped the music" and
burst into tears.
These peasents had been playing the
allegretto of -Beethoven's symphony
The whole family surrounded him
with signs of curiosity and surprise.
For some moments his convulsive sobs
impeded his utterance : then he raised
his head and said. " I am Beethoven.
And they uncovered their heads and
bent before him iu respectlul silence.
Beethoven extended his hands to thorn
and they prcted them, kissed thcni,wcpt
oyer t'icin ; for t'uey knew that they had
among them a man who was greater than
a king. " j
Beethoven. vjut his arms and em
braced them aV-the father, the mother,
the jTjung girUxind her three brothers.
All at onc4r he rose up, and sitting
down to the clavecin, signed to the 3-oung
mcu to ake ' tip their violins, and him
self performed the piano part of this cicf
tt tcucrc. The ieribrnjers were alike in
spired; never was nfusiV' more divine or
better cxeeuteti. . Ilulf ?Se night passed
away thus, the peasants, listened.
Those were the last accents of the swan.
. The father' compelled Lim.to accept
his own bed jT?ut during tjic night Bee
thoven was restless aud fevered. He
rose ; he needed air ; he went forth with
naked feet into the country. All nature
was exhaling a -majestic harmony ; the
wiuds sighed.through the branches of the
trees, and moaned along the avenues and
glades of the woods. He remained sonic
hours wandering thua amidst the cool
dews of tho "early morning; but wheu
he returned to the house he was seized
with an icy chill. They seut to Vienna
for a physiciau ; dropsy on tbe chest was
found to 'hare declared il self, and two
days, despite every care aud skill, the
doctor said that Beethoven must die.
AnTl, in truth, life was every instant
ebbing fast from him.
jSm he lay"upou his bed, pale and su"
fering, a man ntered. It was Hummel
Hummel, -his old and or.ly friend.
He had heard of the illness of Beethoven,
and he came to him with succor and mou
cy. But it was too late ; Beethoven was
speechless; and a grateful smile was all
he had to bestow unou his friend.
Hummel bent toward him and by the
aid of an acoustic instrument, enabled
Beethoven to hear a few words of his
compasii and regret.
Beethoven seemed reanimated, his
eyes shone, struggled for utterance, and
gasped, " Is it nut. true, Hummel, tluti
have some talents after all f
These were his last words. His ev-e
grew hxca, ins mouth tell open and the
spirit passed" away.
lhey buried him in the little cemete
ry of Dobling. i - - ...
KISUS; L ERSTANDIlfrGS.
Muc-h unKhpuliiess is oceasoucd iufam-
lics, not, iiijjfreiiueut'iy leading to total
lienatioit', from misunderstandings bas-
! upon very slight foundations : Espc-
ialy is this-Jtho case where the members
ave become partially separated, and in
tercourse thereby,' iu a measure, inter
rupted, so as to prevent any ready and
willing explanation. An action mis-
fered, a thoughtless expression madeTan
oversight on the part of one committed,
which is taken by another as evidence
of a loss of interest or kindly regard, be
comes a secret stumbling block, between
members of a fainliy, who through all
their early years would have readily
sacrificed their lives 4iu behalf of each
other; molehills grow into mountains,
brupt with precipices, and crowned
with perpetual frost, which interpose
mpassable barriers between hearts full
to overflowing with every genial sympa-
Such unhappy anairs, having their
foundations origionally in nothing, or at
least in incidents so slight that both
parties are ashamed to confess the cause
even to themselves, are more frequent
than is gcneially supposed. Lot a fam-
ly of children who live in harmony, in
the exercise of every trait of brotherly
and sisterly affection, be told that a time
will come in after life when other ties,
otherr connections, other iutcrests, pur
suits, pleasures and pains will unloose
the chords that bind them to each eth
er in such apparently indissoluble bonds
aud they will be apt to exclaim in in
dignation, ".'Are thy servauis dogs, that
they should do this great thing?"
The natural course of events must
separate families must disolve fratern
al tics, in order to give room to others,
f possible, of a tender and incrc endu
ring nature ; but iu that trausformatiou
especially care ought to be taken that
no element of discord be permited to in
tervene between the ongional and new
relation. Iu the close connection, for
instance, which certainly ought to exist
petween parties that enter into conjugal
ties, many defects of character will
likely be hidden from each other which
are appareut to a less buuded vision ;
and a brother may feel a tinge of selfish
pain, or a sister receive a slight shock of
wounded sensibility, that the other turns
from them to the husband or the wife,
forgetting that they themselves will do
the same thing.
A' little mutual forbaerence, a tew
kindly explanations, a determination on
both sides to do to the other as each
would like to be done bv, will in all
these cases, as in every other event of
human life, remove all difficulties, and
enable brothers and sisters to go on har-:
moniously to the end of lirs uncertain
journey. i,ct the prayer pe aciea up
"Themercy I to others show, i ' "- ,
.That mercy show tome;": ... .,'.-'
and, all trouble of this riature will speed
ily vanish away. Intercourse 'must of
necessity be partially interrupted ; ' dis-tatib-
residences, different degrees of suc
cess or failure, otlier tics and connections
will greatly interfere with the original
close intimacy, but what remains may
be as tender, as kind, and as frateaual,
as that which' exists t:.rough all their
earlier years: and that it be such is a
solemn duty each member of. a family
owes to the memory of their dead parents
to themselves, and to each other.
Energy is Omnipotent. The child
who is a beggar to-day, in a few years to
come, may stanaifh the admiration of
angels 1 It is the wflkjtof Energy
3"" I'm in the wrong,'
be one of the most difficult senteftc
pronounce in the Euglish language.
FURTHER CF THE ARCTIC AR
CHIVAL CF CAPTAIN LUCE AND
: OTHERS AT QUEBEC-FULL PAR
TICULARS. Tbe br.rk Cambria picked up Capt.
Luce, 7 or 8 of the passengers, aud 5 of
the crew of the Arctic from a raft.
- Tho following is a correct list of the
passengers saved f itli Capt. Luce :
F. May, G. F. Allen and Jos. Smith,
of the Arctic, J. A. G. Francois, of the
Vesta. Seamen Patrick rNoran, A.
Grant, Michael llusscl, John Itilcy and
John Patterson. -
The caincs of those who arrivetT'at
Quebec on the ship Huron, are -
Luke McCarty, Richard .Macline,
Joas Abrys, Christ'r Moran, Erastus
Miller, John Drury, James Ward, Da
vid Benny, Kob't Bryson, Joseph Conly
Tames Cbnly. James Conner, Thomas
Wilsou and Grant Conway. : -
Mrs. Collins and Family certainly
Statement of Cnpt. Luce.
The Arctic sailed from Liverpool on
Wednesday the tdOth of September, at
11 A. M., with 233 passengers and about
150 of a crew. Nothing of special iiote
occurred during tho passage until Wed
nesday the 27th, wheu at noon we were
on the banks in latitude 4(5:43 with lon
gitude 52 west, steering west by com
pass. Tbe weather had been foggy- du
ring the day generally. Generally a
distance of to j of a mile could be
seen, but at intervals of a few minutes,
a very dense fog followed by being suf
ficiently clear to see 1 or 2 miles. -
At noon I left tho deck for the pur
pose of working out tbe position of tho
ship. In about fifteen monutes I heard
a cry of " hard a starboard " from the
officer of the deck. I rushed on deck
and had just got out when I felt a crash
forward, at the same moment saw a
steamer under the starboard boat, and
the next moment she struck against our
guards and passed astern of as. The
bows of the strange vessel seemed to bo
literally cut or crushed off, for full ten
feet, aud it seemed that she must proba
bly sink iu a few minutes, and taking a
hasty glance cf our own ship, aud be
lieving we were comparatively uninjured,
my first impulse was ta endeavor to save
the lives of those on board the sinking
The boats were cleared, and tbe first
bffiecr and six men left with one boat,
when it was found our own ship was leak
ing fearfully. The engineers were set
to work, instructed to put on the steam
pumps, and the four deck-pumps were
worked with vigor by the passengers and
crew." The ship was headed-if laud,
which J juiLted---feabout 50 miles
distant. I was -compelled to leave " my
boat and crew with the first officer to
take care of themselves.
Several ineffectual attempts were
made to stop the leak by getting sails
over the bows, aud finding t e leak gain
ing on us very fast, notwithstanding all
our very powerful efforts to keep her
free, I resolved to get the boats ready,
aud as many ladies and children placed
in tlit in as possible ; but no sooner had
the attempt been made than the fire
men aud others rushed into them in
spite of opposition.
Seeing this state ot :hings, I ordered
the boats astern to be kept in readiness
until order should be restored, when, to
my dismay, I saw them cut the rope in
the bow, and soon disappeared astern in
tbe fog. Another boat was broken
down by persous precipitated into the
sea and drowned. This occurred while
I bad been engaged in getting the star
board guard-boat ready, and placed the
second officer in charge, when the same
fearful scene, as with the first boat, was
enacted : men leaping from the top of
the rail, 20 feet, pushing and maiming
those who were in the boat.
I then gave orders to the 2d officer to
let go and row after tbe ship under or
near the stern, to be ready and take on
board women and children as soon as Ihe
fires were out and tho engines stopped
Mv attention was then directed to the
other quarter boat which I found bro
ton rlnvrn and hano-intr bv the tackle.
A rush was made for her also, and somef
dozen or fifteen got in and cut the tackle.l
Tr. wns soon out of siirht.
In the meantime, 1 found that not a
seamen was left on board, nor a corpen- L
ter; and without any tools to, assist us
built a raft as our only hope, and the
only officer left was Mr. Doran, the 3d
officer, who aided me, with the assist
ance of many of the passengers who de
serve great praise for coolness and ener
gy in doing all in their power, up to the
very moment before the ship sunk.
The chief engineer, with a part of bis
assistants had taken our smallest deck
boat, and before the ship went down
pulled away with about fifteen persons.
We had succeeded in getting the fall
and main-yard and two top-gallant
yards overboard, and such other small
spars aud materials as we could collect,
when I was fully convinced that-tbe
ship must go down in a very short time.
Not a moment was to be lost in getting
the spars lashed together to form a raft
to do which, it became necessary to
get the life-boat pur enly remaining
boat into the water. - -
This being accomplished I saw -Mr.
Doran, chief engineer of the boat, taking
care ro keep the oars on board to pre
vent them from leaving the ship, hoping
still to get most of the wo nenand child
ren in this boat, at least. They had
made considerable progress in collecting
the spars when an alarm was given that
the ship was sinking aud the boat was
shoved off without oars or anything to
help themselves with, and when the ship
sank the boat had got, yrobably, an
eighth of a mile to leeward, and in an
instant, about a qurter to 5 P. M., the
ship went down carrying every soul on
board with her. I soon found myself
on tho surface, after a brief struggle,
with my own helpless child in my arms.
1 again found myselt impelled down
wards to a great depth, aud Deiore J
ied the surface a second time had
nearly perished, and lostytho hold of my
child. As I struggled to the surface of
tho water, a most awful and heart-rending
scene presented itself to my view.
Over two hundred men, women aud
children, struggling together, amidst
pieces of wreck of every kind, calling
bu each other for help, and imploring
God to help 1 hem. Such an appalling
scene may God preserve me from ever
witnessing again. ,
I was iu the act of trying to save my
child, when a portion of the paddle-box
came rushing up edgeways, just grazing
my hend, and tailing its -whole weight
upon the head ofjny darling child.- ;Iu
another moment I beheld 'LiuT.-lylng
lifeless ou the water. .
I succeeded iu "getting on to the top
of the paddle-box, in company with elev
en others. One, however, soon left for
another piece, fiuding , that it could not
support so mauy. Others remained, till
they were oue by one relieved by death
We stood iu the water at the tcmeratare
of forty-five degrees, up to our- knees,
and frequently- the sea- broke directly
over us. -
We soou separated from our friends
on the other parts of the reck, and pass
ed the night, each one expecting every
hour would bo our last. At last the
wished for morning came, surrounded
with a dense fog; not a living soul to
be seen, but our own party, seven dow
In the course of the morning, we saw
some water casks and other things be
longing to our ship, but nothing we
could get to afford us any relief. Our
ratt.was steadily settling, as it absorbed
water. About noon, Mr. S. M. Wood
ruff, of New York was relieved by death.
All the others now began to suffer very
severely tor want of water, except Mr.
George F. Allen and myself.
In that respect, we were very much
favored, although we had not a drop on
the raft. The day continued foggy, ex
cept just at noon, as near as we could
judge. V'e had a clear horizon for about
halt-au-hour, and nothing could be seen
but water aud sky. Night -came on,
thick aod dreary, with our minds made
up that neither of us would live to see
the light of another day, for very soon
three more of our suffering party were
relieved by death, leaving Mr.. Allen, a
young man and myself. -
Feeling myself getting exhausted,' I
now sat down for the first time about 8
o'clock in the evening, on a trunk, which
Providentailly had been found on tbe
wreck. In this way I slept a little
throughout the night, and become some
what refreshed. About an hour before
daylight, now Friday, the 29th, we saw
a vessel's light near to us. We all three
of Ui fixextctLaurselves wjLth-sVerirtihdst
of our strength in hailing, until we bo
came quite exhausted. ' ''
In about a quarter of an hour the
light disappeared to the east of us.
.-. oon after day-light a barque hove in
sight to the N. W., as the fog having
lightened a little, steering apparently
for us, but in a short time she seemed
to have changed her course, and again
we were doomed to disappointment. Yet
I feel hopes that some of our fellow-suf
ferers may have beenseea and rescued
Shortly after we had given up all hopes
of being rescued by the barque, a ship
was discovered to the east of us, steering
directly for us. We now watched her
with the most intense anxiety, as she ap
proached ; the wind varying, caused her
to change her course for several points.
About noon they fortunately discover
ed a man ou tbe raft near them and suc
ceeded in saving him by the 2d mate's
lumping over the side and making the
rope fast around him, by which he was
got ou board safely. This man proyed
to be a passenger on board tbe steamer
with which we came in collision... . He
iuformed the captain, that others were
near, on pieces of the wreck, and by go
ing aloft he saw us and three others.
-We were the first to which the boat
was sent, and s: fely taken on board about
3 P. M. The next was Mr. J as. bmith,
of Slissisgippi, second class passenger.
ved were five one our fire-
f v- I . - l ,L.
from Glasgow, bound
jfpt. John Kussell, who
i - ,
ani.. ,eived kindly by Capt. Nye,
of the Pacific. Of Capt. Russell, it
would be scarcely possible to say enough
iu praise for the kind treatment all of
us received from him during the time
we have been on board his ship.
His own comforts have been given up
in every resrect for our relief. Jiev.
Mr. Walker and lady, and another gen
tleman. who were passengers by tbe
Cambria, have been unceasing in their
: 1 .
endeavors to promote our comfort. J.o
them, and to all on board, we shall ever
... ... , n .1
owe a debt or gratituae ior tneir uu
bounded kindness to us.
From the Frenchman, who was picked
up, I learned that the steamer with which
we came in collision was the screw stea
mer Vesta, from St. Pierre, bound from
and belonging to Greenville, France.
We learn the Vesta was steering Ji. B.
E' and was crossing our course two
points, all sails set, iWind west by south
Her anchors stocK, aoout Dy s locoes
snnare. strucK tue now oi me jirciic
.. t P il A '1
about eighteen inches above tne water
-.. . . . . .
line. , t " ' "' -' ' " '
An immense hole had been made at
the same time bv the fluke of the anch
or, about tWO ieet DClOW tue water lino
. . . , , 1 1 . i -
raking fore and aft the plank, and finally
breaking the chains, leaving tbe stock
remaining in and through the side of the
Arctic ; and it is not unlikely that as so
much of her bows had been crushed in
some of tbe heavy pieces of iron running
through the ship, may have been d iveu
through our side, eausing the less of our
ship and 1 tear, hundreds of most valu
We have safelv arrived at Quebec,
and I am left without a penny in the
world to help myself with ; but sincere
gratitude to those from whom I have
received such unbounded kindness, since
I have been providentially thrown among
from whom I am about. to . separ
ate and go to my home of sorrow. ' ' ' t .
I learned from the doctor at Qua ran- '
tine, last evening, that- the' Vesta.' had ,'
reached St. Johns with some passengers
from tbe Arctic, but I could; not learn
As soon as I can get on shore I .shall
make arrangements to leave for N.'York,
with the" least possible delay;' and ex
pect to take the steamer for -Montreal
this afternoon. -- : . r .,,fj
I am, very respectfully, your obedient
servant, : . JAMES C. LIJCEl
' . .-.K1
? A HAPPY HOUtCEVr'
Iu a happy. home thore will bo no
fault-finding, overbearing spirit ; vtharo
will be no peevishness nor fretfulness.
will not dwell iu the heart or be found
on the tongue.' O, the tears, the .'sighs, '
the wasting of life, and '-health "and
strength, and time : of all that ia most
to be desired, in a happy home, occasion- .
ed merely by unkind words 1-, The cele
brated Mr. Wesley remarks to this ef
fect, namely, that fretting and scolding
seem like tearing tho flesh from "the
bones, and that we hare no more right to
be guilty of this Bin than wo havento
curse, aud swear, and steaL .- .
In a perfectly happy home", all selfish- .
ness will be removed. Even as " Christ
pleased not himself, " so the' members
of a happy home will not; soek rst(to
please themselves, but will seek to please
each other. .
Cheerfulness is another' Ingredient in
happy home. How much does a sweet
smile, emanating from a heart fraught
with love and kindness, contribute v to
render- a home happy I . How attracting,
how soothing is that sweet cheerfulness
that is boTue on the countenance' of a
wife and mother 1 How do the parent
and child, the brother aod sister, the
mistress and the servant, dwell with de- "
ight on those cheerful looks, those eon- -
fid ing smiles that beam from the eye,
and burst from the inmost soul of those
who are near and dear ! How it hastens
the return of the father, lightens the
cares ot the mother, renders it more
easy for youth to resist temptationHind,
drawn by the chords of affection how t
induces them with loving hearts, to re
turn to the parental roof. -- -X : -,j .
O that parents would lay this subject
to heart ! that by untiring effort, (hey
would so far render home more happy,
that their children and domestics' shall
not seek for happiness in forbidden paths 1
NO H0THER. :t I
"She has no mother T What Vof-
Inmo ef -sorrowful truth is comprised' In
that single utterance no mother! 'K We
must go down the hard, -rough path xrf
life, aud become inured to care and .so
row in these sternest forms, before .we
can take home to our own experience the
dread reality no mother without'1
struggle and a tear. But wnen"it is
said of a frail young girl, jusf passing
from childhood towards the life of a wo
man, how sad is the Btory summed up in
that one short sentence! Who now shall
administer the needed counsel J who
now shall check the wayward fancie
who now shall bear with the ; errors and
failings of the motherless daughter?
Deal gently with tne cnua. x no.
the cup of her sorrow be overflowed "by
the harshness of your bearing, or your
un8ympathiiing coldness Is she heed-
- . - n T , r i r 1 . f
less ot her doiugsr r is sne wrgeuiu ..,
her duty? Is she careless in her move
ment ? Remember oh " remembr,'""Bhe
has no mother !" . . -
IMPURE LANGUAGE. ,i;Uw
". Ti.:''- i-' v0 ii. -
There are some habits which we can
never entirely annihilate after we" have
once formed them. The use of import,
language is one'of these habits.:- It may
be subdued and slumber for years, tjll
its existence is almost forgotten, and tbeu
in the delirium of fever, it may end-'
denly burst forth, to the astonishment
of all who listen. Many a jdevoted
Christian, in a delirium of a sick-bed,
has shocked his friends by . the usaof
profane or obscene language, which could
be explained only by the fact that he had
been familiar with such language in
early life. ' In reading the memoir- )!
Dr. Grant, the missionary to tae-..ries
torians, I was struck with a fact relating
to his illness.
For seventeen days previous to his
death, he was in a delirium; hut, says
his biographer,' though- speaiing aimosi
constantly, on many topics, in three, dif
ferent language that is English, Turkish,
and Syriac he did uot utter , a . single
word he would have been ashamed of
afterwards. His associaies listened .to
the disclosure of his secret heart and
wondered that nothing appeared that
they would have wished to conceaL ,;
Macapxay says there is one good
trait about bores, and that is, they are
always moral. This is so. Wit runs
shockingly to vice, while your smart ep
igramie people are just as certain f K"
ing to the devil as violin players. ;Wit
runs to sociability r- sociabidity to wine,
woodcock, and "illicit dimity' These
bring remorse, ' while remorse, ' presnts
you with a shilling's worth of arsenio er
a double barrelled horse pistol. - A man
who makes a good pun has taken the first
step to dissipation and charcoal- fumes.
lioars live till they die," and generally
die happy. Who ever heard of. a hut-
ton-holder severing his jugular? W
pauso for a reply. N. Y.- Dutchman.
. A Stolen Thought. It has been ob
served with much significance, that every
morning we enter upon a new day, car
rying still an unknown futuro in its bo
som. : How pregnant and striking the
reflection 1 Thoughts, may be born to
day which may never die. : Feelingsmay
be born to day which may never die.
Feelings may be awakened to-day which
may never be extinguished. ... Hope may
be excited to-day which may never , ex
pire. Act9 may be performed ; tq-day
which may not he realised till eternity.
Sfs? . . . ' " " L.