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Cljc (BllsmortI; ilmrriain IS PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING BY WH. H. CHANEY, O'-a In O#gnod'* Block, neit door Suth of tht El to worth Bank, TERMS. •2 .00 per annum • !f »>aid strictly in advance 91 .f»0. tnvaRTisKvrxTi insert“d at r«*.n«oalde ra'ts ^ortrij. [For the American J To One not Forgotten. BY ALLIE OAKWOOD. Adieu my love—adieu forever ! Go on thy weary way ; ’Tis Fate's stern voice that bids us sever, We must, we must obey. Why should we offer vam resistance To cruel Fate's decree ? To worship only at a distance , Is our dark destiny Adieu ! the vow that l.havc plighted, J Unbroken 1 will kt ep. O'jr hearts will ever be united, My love will never sleep. M: heart's l est lore I gave to thee ; I .in u .ihdr.v.v it never ; Adieu—adieu forever 1 A i my love, I long *ir.ce banished All hope nf happiness ; A I! ihongnt of peart nr c ,■ *f--| va:,i*he ! With 111y iu»t foiiil caress. I l t i i'i ivert mine, my own, my i lot, thy love to me was given; 11 v my wild young heart ndon d thee 1 I is best treasure under Heaven. Why were we compelled to sever ? \\ by was fate so merciless ? Will our writhing spirits never II ippmess again possess ! \ 'Vr to mortal should l>° given 1. ve like that I gave to th'o; O ' was no common passion ! It was wild idolatry. Madly clinging to each ether, Deal and blind to all beside, f" mg not the storm-clouds gathej; Heeding not wot s coming tide. Tl. m art wretched — well I know it ; 1’ ace for aye thou most resign ; Tl. ugh thy actions do not show it. Wretchedness alone is thine. \ t we must conceal our feelings And the world must never know How our levered brains are reeling And our hearts are wed to woe. Still my heart is always tinning In its wretchedness to thee ; Ever loving, ever yearning For thy lender sympathy. IflrrtnV ZlTMA; OR Tho Sancity of an Oath. A boil! the middle of the seventeenth! century, the animosity of the Indians of Smith America towards the Spaniards still existed til nil its force. Some tradi- 1 tions of this oppressed and almost extinct j race of people, too faithfully preserved atiord visible proofs of the cruelly of their 1 conquerors. Thpy were conquered, it is true, but not subdued, and the Spaniards ; governed only by terror. At this period , a viceroy, more severe in his gdternmem than any of those who had preceded him, excited m the highest degree the animos ity and hatred of the natives, which though powerless, they nevertheless nursed in secret. The sccrcisiy of ihc • miu ng'Minisij * im u mo ii in a- | ter’s cruel and arbitrary will, was even 1 more detested for his insatiable avarice and cruelty. This man died very sud denly. and the frightful symptoms which preceded his death gave rise to suspicions that he had been poisoned. Every ef fort vyas made to discover and punish the guilty parties, but without success. This event created a great sensation at the time, because it was not the first in stance of crimes of this horrible Lind hav ing been perpetrated. It was well known that the Peruvians were acquainted with the most deadly poisons, and that they never hesitated to make use of them to rid themselves of their enemies, or persons to whom they had a mortal hatred; but neither repeated threats of torture and death, nor even the promises of favor and reward, could induce them to divulge the knowledge of ' these fatal secrets. i In the meantime the viceory was recalled ■ and the court of Spain named as his sue- I ccssor the Count del Cinchon. a mm hi the prime of life, of amiable disposition, and endowed with virtues to gain all hearts, and who had wooed and married a lady both accomplished and beautiful. | Some very exaggerated statements of. the late viceroy had represented the na-| tives as the most abject alaves, who at first appeared docile and submissive, and even attached, but who were yet capa ble of deep treachery, and secretly nour ished and perpetrated crimes of the blackest dye. Some stories were related of the surprising and inconceivable sub tlety of the poisons of their country, and and in this respect they were not exag gerated. Their accounts were very dis tressing to the amiable spouse of the vic eroy, who entertained serious apprehen sions for the safety of her beloved hus band, and induced her to follow and watch over Into with all the precautions of fear and nil the vigilance of conjugal love. She took with her some Span iards, who formed part of her escort to the Court of Lima, and amongst the number was one whom the Countess h»d known from her infancy, named Bea trice, who was only a few years older than herself, and for whom she entertain ed an attachment so tender and sincere that it resembled the affection of a moth er. Meanwhile the Indians, although de lighted at hating got rid of the late vice roy: were no better disposed towards his successor. He was a Spaniard, and con sequently, they expected nothing from Inm but injustice, avarice and tyranny. It was in vain that they heard him spo ken ot as a just, humane and honorable man. They repeated, ‘He is a Span iard!' and this Word, for them, was quite sufficient to excite their hatred, and re kindle the recollection of the wrongs in dicted upon their ancestors. The /uuians were also well acquaint ed with the power of antidotes, and w ith Lome of so extraordinary a character that it seemed as if Providence bestowed them i a remedy in the most extreme cases, i ( y were the only race who knew of the k ;< 1 il ritiln , * 1 _ .. ' irk of the quinquina, as a certain anti h’te against ilie most virulent of poisons; I V a compact most solemnly ami I. ilifully observed by oatli, frequently renewed amongst them, they swore nev r to reveal to their oppressors these im portant secrets. In the midst of the rigors of slavery, he Indians had always preserved amongst hemselves a kind of interior government hey regularly chose a chief, whose mys cri >us functions consisteil in assemldtng! hem at night, at certain tunes, in orderi 0 renew their oatiis, and sometimes to '"irt out !re»h victims amongst their ene nies. The Indians of the small towns! who were more free than those employed ' u the service of the viceroy, or at the luldir works, never failed to attend those locturn d meetings; win t, were held op pii tho mountains or desert places, and which could only be reached by means impracticable to Kuropeans. But these ilinost inaccessible spots constituted for ■hem a happy asvlum of liberty — their mly refuge against oppression and tyran ny. At ibis tune their nocturnal chief was named Xinero, a man whose mind was embittered by the recollection of >nti!.- p rticular injuries nt the hands of die Spaniards; and although naturally of 1 noble and generous disposition, he was proof against any sentiment of kindnessi md feeling. A vehement iudignation. i inresirained by any principle of justice, Put rendered Inm harhernus and cruel.— Notwithstanding tins, the base and cow irdly attmcity of secretly poisoning was ■epugnant to his natural character, he had lever employed this frightful means of rengeanee, and even discountenanced it imongst his ml*. Acts of this kind, when they occurred, were committed without his knowledge and consent. Xinero had an only son, named iVlir on, whom he loved tenderly, and in whom Iip careliilly instilled in his long therished haired towards the Spaniards, tlirvan, young, handsome, generous and irave, had married, about three years ireviously to the commencement of the ollowing events, a beautiful Indian fe nale, named Zuma, who was gentle, imiahle and intelligent, and the delight f her husband; she lived only for him md her child, a lovely boy, about two ears of age. There was another chief named Azan, vho next to Xinrero, had the greatest tscendancy of his tribe* Azan was vio eut and cruel, and possessed no redeem ng quality to temper the natural ferocity .1 Ins character. These two chiefs were mpposed to be of illustrious origin, and irided themselves on having descended rom the royal race of the Incas. Some days liefore the arrival of the lew viceroy, Xinreo convoked a noctur nal assembly for the following night up-, >n the hill under the ‘Tree of Health.' me name in which iney uestgnateu me quinquina tree,) ami when they had all issenibled around it, he said to them— Friends, a new tyrant is coming to reign t*er us; let us renew the oaths of our usl vengeance. Alas.' wc can onlv pro- , lounce them in the midst of darkness 1 mJ gloom. Unhappy children of the ijn that we are, we can only repeat our ovvs in the shades of night. Let us wear again ferever to conceal our secrets ruin our foes. At these words, Xinreo’s voice rising with emotion, he said, with a firm tone, We swear never to discover to the chil Iren of Europe the divine and salutary drlues of tins sacred tree, the only in teritance left to u». Death to the per ured amt faithless slave who, either h rough fear, weakness, or other motive, hall reveal this secret to the destroyer of >ur gods, of our kings and of our couu rj. Death to the base coward who vould give this precious treasure of tealth to the barbarian who subdued us, ind whose ancestors burnt our temples, tur cities, invaded our fields, and bathed n the blood of our fathers, after suject ng them to unheard-of tortures; ' and whilst they carefully guard the gold, nf which they robbed us—that gold which, for us. has been so fruitful of crime and bloodshed—let us at least guard this on ly gift (rom heaven. If amongst us there can be found a traitor to his oath, we swear to pursue and exterminate him from the face of the earth, were he our father, our brother, or our son. We swear, if lie be bound by the ties of mar riage, to puruse his wife and his children if they do not denounce him; and if bis children should be in the cradle, to im molate them—in short, to extinguish his guilty race!’ Th« Indians, fumed ulways vo dissimu late, preserved tbs outward appearance of respect and submission. A troop of young Indians carried a basket of flow ers, and arrived at the gates of Lima, awaiting the arrival of the vice queen,— Zuma wns at their head; and the Counl |ess was so struck with her beauty and in teresting appearance, that she expressed Ia desire to have a number of these fe male slaves employed in the palace.— I he Countess also conceived a strong feeling ol attachment and friendship for Zuma, and employed her about her per son. This attachment, in the eyes of Beatrice, appeared to be a very impru dent act on the part of the Countess, arising from her knowledge of the con cealed hatred of the Indians towards the Spaniards; and, notwithstanding the nat ural generosity of her character, Bea trice could not divest herself of certain fears as to the trntb and fidelity of 7. urn a. 1 his was excusable; it was for her friend she (eared, and not for herself. She saw with pain and distrust the continued at .■■•-i.v ..iiu* iutui rtiiiLii me v-oumess manifested towards Zuma; und the atten dants ol the former had conceived the most violent jealousy towards her oh that account Zuma, however, had a most sincere and tenner affection for her mis tress: hut, nevertheless, in order to avoid disagreeable seenes, she kept herself al most entirely to her chamber, and never appeared but at such times as the Coun tess sent for her. In the meantime the viceroy spared no pains nor exnrnons to cultivate the good feeling of the Indians; hut the latter had many limes observed that previous vice roys had commenced their rule over them by acts ol kindness as well as jus tice, which had been followed by injus tice and cruelty; thus the motives of the viceroy although really sincere, had been eoii.-irucj only inlHr,^^,! fo deceive and betray, caused by weakness and ter ror at the sudden death of the secretary of his predecessor. At the end of about four mrnths, the health of the Countess visibly declined. This grievoas change was at first attribu led to the excessive heal of the climate; but her illness increasing every day, se rious apprehensions were entertained about her. At last she was suddenly at tacked by a virulent fever; the best medi cal advice lliat could be bad was employ ed for Iter recovery, but without elfect.— The nuxiety of Ucautrice was excessive; she inquired particularly of the physician who had been sent for from Spain, hut w ho had failed to restore the Countess to health, and he spoke evasively, and hint ed that it must be attributed to some ex traordinary and unknown cause. His mysterious manner, and the dark hints caused by his mode of expressing himself suggested to the mind of Beatrice the horrible idea that her dear friend was dying from the effect of a slow poison.— From this moment her mind was a con stant prey-to uneasiness. She carefully! concealed from llie Countess, and even from the Count himself, these frightful suspicions; hut it was impossible to con- < ceal them from two of the tvailiiig-wo- i men, who acknowledged to Beatrice their belie) in the guilt ol some one having administered poison to the Countess’— But who could it be? No other but Zu ma, who was constamly receiving so many favors from the Countess, what j motive could she have for such atrocity? , The secret and iniprehenstble hatred ol | the Indians to the Spaniards. Zuma' was a hypocrite, vain, ambitious, nay, | more, itiey imagined she had conceived j a secret passion for the Count. In snort Was sllC uui uTr bvi.aw, ■■ J IkniilmriaiPil j from her infancy with crimes of the blackest dye! The innocent and feeling Zuma, the ; victim of such horrible suspicions, in the midst ol this grief and distress, thought only of the Countess, fur she cherished the utmost sincerity, and a most pure and holy gratitude. She was deeply grieved at the thought of possessing tlie knowledge of an infallible remedy for the illness of her benefactress without being able to use it; for the fatal penalty which was aitached to the disclosure of the se cret forbade her to think of endangering not only her own life, but the lives of her husbaud aud child, in short, she was , not ignorant that the cruel and vindic tive Xmreo, in order to assure himselfof , her discretion, had sent her child as a hostage to the fierce Azan. Poor Zuma! she dared not confide her griels to her husbaud; but overwbealmed in sorrow, she wept in silence. In consequence of strict orders from liealric all the movements of Zuma were watched with great care. It happened that Mirvan came to see her, and in or der to ascertain the purport of his visit, a woman was concealed close to the door of the apartment in which they were talk ing, tliut she might overhear their con versation, but they spoke in so lowr a tone that not a word could lie heard. At last Mirvan took leave of Zuma in an agitat ed and troubled manner, and shortly af terwards she was ebserved to run ruund the corridor and examine all the doors, and stopping at the entrance to the eahi net, with all the npprdiension of being observed, she hastily concealed herself in a chamber near to it. Hearing this from the woman who was rn the watch. Bea trice trembled with feir, for she conceiv ed that Zuma inteudec when the evening arrived to steal into tie cabinet. The woman was again ordaed to watch her carefully, and to give inmediate notice lo Beatrice the moment that Zuma should leave the chamber in which she had con cealed herself. Beatrice then went without delay to inform the Count, who witl»ut immedi ately acting upon her suspicion agreed to watch with her in the cabine. About an hour after the close 0f day Beatrice was informed that Zuma had left the chamber without a light, w ifioul a light, with all the precautions of mys tery and fear. Beatrice and the Count then went hastily and concealed ihem scl vcs. In a few moments they heard I the door ol the cabinet softly opened, and Zuma appeared pale and trembling, walking slowly and apparently with much effort. She looked around her with a countenance which bespike fear and grief. She listened at the door of the Countess's apartment—all was calm.— Zuma approached the table upon which was placed the caraf containing the only drink of her benefactress. Zuma then look a paper which contained the powder of quinquina: she opened it; took the ca raf in one hand, and with the other emp tied into itlhe nowrler Ai ih inmTipnt seized with horror, the viceroy rushed in to the cabinet and cried: ‘Wretch, what have you put into the drink of the Conntoss?’ At the sight of the Count and hearing these terrible words, zuma starting with terror and fright, dropped the caraf fronf her liana and broke it. She then fell up on a chair uttering these words, ‘1 am lost,’ and fainted immediately. She was carried to htr chamber, and the Coust and Beatrice agreed to conceal from the Countess the apparent wickedness and intended crime of /uina, because such was her regard for her that she would in tercede for her pardon. ‘But,’ said tie Count,‘nothing shall induce me to grant it, and I will make an example of her.' It was immediately known in the pal ace and in the city that Zuma had been detected in the act of endeavoring to poi -on t ho Prtiir.fpce CV»o WQS the SQfDC lay delivered to the otlicers of justice, iml conducted to prison. Mirvan upon hearing this frightful aews, went immediately to Azan, and his mart overwhealmed with grief, said to aim: ‘You have my only child in your lands as a hostage; promise me, at least, that it we laithlully preserve the secret, ,'ou will after our death deliver him to my father.’ ■\\e swear,’said Azan; ‘hut you arc • ware that the least indiscretion on your tart will cost the life of your child.’ ‘We shall both sutler death,’ said Mir ran. A; these words he quitted the fe ■ocious Indian, and voluntarily delivered limself up to justice, us a participator in he crime of Zuma and followed her to irisoit. He easily understood the cott luct and motives of Ins unhappy wile, mil although he dare not justily it in de ivering his child from the (ury of Azan, te resolved to share her fate. N The next day the council assembled to nterrogate and judge Mirvan and Zuma. I Die door« of the council chamber were brown open, and it was announced to [ he Indians that they had permission to inter. 7’liey came into the hall in great lumbers, conducted by their secret chiefs Vzan, Thamiz, and Xinreo. They I iroughl in the two unfortunate prisoners I oaded with chains. Zuma on perceiving llirvan, cried with vehemence, ‘He is tot guiity. He has taken no part in any hiug I have done. He is even ignorant >f my design.’ ’Stop, Zuma,’ interrupted Mirvan,’ by life is forfeited. Think not to save nine. I am not accused of the crime; it . — i 1 _ i____ .1. . r. . i Zuma, meet thy fate with fortitude and .n..rnUp ,ni| our c|,ild will ijve>> luma fully comprehended tne meali ng of these words; she remained silent, ind burst into a flood of tears. But she :ould not disavow the facts of which Beatrice and the Count had been wit ■.esse*. They demanded to know of vhom she had received the powder which she was seen to put into the ear th “She received it from me,’ said Mir an. Zuma denied it, and persisted firmly ler husband was entirely ignorant of her iesigri. “And whai was your design?” demand 'd her judges. “It was not to poison the Countess,” die replied. ‘For what purpose then did you make ise of the powder ? Did you think to miploy it as a salutary remedy ?’ At this question Zuma trembled ; her ■yes in a moment encountered those of he cruel Azan, which were full of fright ul menaces, which threatened the death >f her child. ‘No, no!’she cried wildly, ‘I know inthmg of any salutary remedy.’ 'It was then to poison the Countess ? ifeu avow it.’ ‘I admit nothing,' said the wretched Zuma, ‘I can say no more.' The judges had received an intimation mt to employ torture nor to endeavor to liscover her accomplices. Xinreo an > ais companions wem away, and Mirvan ind Zuma wprp conducted hack to |ftiton. The physician who attended the Countess was sent for and interrogated. He declared that the illness of the Countess having resisted all the remedies he had known to be must efficaceous, and being accompanied by symptoms the most ex traordinary, had given rise to the most horrible suspicions ; and the conduct of Zuma had left no doubt on his mind of the atrocity of her design, and had con firmed the idea which he had long enter tained, that she had administered to the Countess slow poison ; and that after wards upon being excluded from the chamber of her mistress, and thinking that her youth and the care and medical skill exerted for her recovery might final ly triumph over the poison given with such secrecy and management, she had resolved to consummate her crime by a stronger dose. Upon hearing this, the judges, full of Imiror, immediately condemned the two prisoners as guilty of the erime of pois oning, to suffer death by being burnt at the stake, Mirvan heard his sentence with heroic firmness, but Zuma threw herself at his feet, bathed in tears. I have sacrificed thee, tny beloved husband,’ she exclaimed. ‘Behold rny remorse. O pardon me.’ ‘O Zuma,’ cried Alirvan, ‘accuse only the barbarity of our judges. Console thyself, my Zuma, that thuyrants who nave conucnmea us nave uenvereu us Irom a grievous yoke. In a few short hours we shall no longer he their slaves.' These words moved even the hard heart of Azan, and he said to him : •J/irvan, be at case as to the fate of thy son—he shall be as dear to me as if he were my own.’ It was about nine o'clock In the morn ing that orders were given for the prepa ration of the fatal slake at which Mirvan and Zuma were to suffer. The Countess was at the point of I death. The physician had reported to the viceroy that they had no longer any hopes of her recovery, and that they thought it was impossible site could sur vive hut a few days longer. Xlie Count as well as Beatrice, at this distressing news, was overwhelmed with despair, and would not entertain the least idea ol pardon to tilt wretched criminals. Else where Zuma was regarded a* the most execrable monster that nature had ever produced, and all compassion lor Iter impending late was looked upon as cul pable and misplaced. An offer of pardon was made to Mi van upon making a sin cere avowal of his crime. ‘Tell the viceroy,’ said Mirvan ’that if he offered me the life of Zuma in ad dition to my own, he should not obtain another word from me.’ Tlie viceroy desirous of being absent during the execution, left Lima for a country residence a short distance from the town, with the intention of not re turning till the evening. During tlie period that the city was in consternation at tlie approach ol tlie latal spectacle, tlie Countess, who was igno rant el the fatal event about to take place was still confined to her bed. more weak and suffering than ever.—Emin tlie an xiety and agitation ol the persons who surrounded ntr ever since an early hour in the morning, she felt at last ili.n some | serious event had happened. Site ques-1 tinned those about her. She saw clearly that Beatrice had concealed something from her, and that she had imposed si lence upon the servants and women th.it attended upon her. Beatrice ofien Iclt I the chamber to weep unconstrained and i it was during one of theses intervals that! the Countess questioned one of the wom en so closely and in so positive and stern ' a inaner, that she at last discovered tlie whole truth; and was also told that Mir-1 avn and Zuma, far from denying their crime, gloried in it. The surprise ol the Countess was equalled only by horror at the recital of tins frightful revelation. She theu ordered a litter to he immedi ately prepared for her: in the meantime n*'' uooiomiivv Iiti ttuiut ll, MIC rose liastly and enveloped herself in a large rope. The Inter was in readiness, ami uuinntiaiun.j...£ ,nw „„ ireates of her friends and attendants who ran and surrounded her, she laid ' herself upon the litter, which was carried by four slaves. Thus couhed, with her face shaded! with a large white veil, the Countess departed. The hour of noon was at hand. At the same moment Mirvan and Zumn, on foot leaded with chains, left the prison on their way to the execution. Suddenly the melancholy sound of a1 trumpet announced the approach o! the victims. They set fire to the faggots.— They entered an alley of plantations, it the bottom of which roared the flames af the fatal stake; they already saw large crowds of Indians, melancholy and dejec ted, ranged round the blazing pile, each holding a branch of cypress as a symbol of mourning, the Spanish guard surroun ding them All of a suddiug they heard cries in the distance. A cavalier apper :d—he hastinged with all speed, cry ing, ‘Stop, atop! the vice-qeen commands it; she is opproaching; the is here!” At these words the fatal preparations were delayed. Zuma, clasping her hands together, implored heaven; but her heart sinking within her, she hardly dared en tertain the hope of pardon. At last the litter with the Countesaappeared in sight the slaves who carried her were moved with pity and sympathy at the impending fate of Zuma and Mirvan, and they has tened with all speed to their deliverance. The Spanish guard immediately ranged themselves outside the litter, and t)ie In dians approached and formed a half circle in front of her. The Countess then raised her veil, and discovered a couitte nance pale and languid, but full of sweet ness and grace, which bespoke a promise of pardon. ‘‘i have not,” she said, ‘".he power myself to grant a pardon, but I am sure ol my kfing able lo obtain it from the viceroy. In the mean time I shall lake under my care and protection these two unfortunate slaves. Let them he imme diately freed front these chains, and ex tinguish those frightful flames, which should never have been kindled if I hud sooner been informed of the occasion for them.” At these words the Indians throw down the branches of cypress, and the air resounded with the cries of" Long live the vice <|ueen! ’ Zunia fell upon her knees exclaiming, "Cod is all pow erful!—complete thy work!” The Countess then invited ,1/irvan j and Xuma to follow her. She had them placed near her in the litter, and returned thus to the place, followed by an immense I concourse of people, who blessed, u it It ■ enthusiasm her favor and goodness. As i soon as she arrived at the palace she was laken to her chamber, where every care j ind attention was bestowed upon her,! tnd strict orders were given that Mirvart' md Xu ina slioulil Up carefullv nrnvidpil! for. The violent emotions and anxiety which the countess had undergone, had welbtigh proved fatal to ner. Previous to setting forth for the deliv erance of Xmna ami Mirvan, the coun tess had dispatched a courier to the count ;o hasten his return; site expected him every minute, and, impatient that he had tot arrived, she S"nt oiF a second mes senger, when a strange tumult was heard n the court-yare. which bespoke joy and gladness. Beatrice hastened to learn the teau»e of it, when immediately alter (he Uoinitess distinguished the voice of the count, She opened the door of the pavil ion, crying—'Pardon, pardon, for the voluntary victims of fidelity and truth!” “They are our preservers, said the Count, ,we have wrongfully suspected them of deceit and crime.” During the short absence of the count, it Impelled, that he was so fully impress ed . ith doubts of the guilt ol Zmna, that he could nut rest without making the strictest lmpilnes as to me real properties of the po-vder which Zurna was seen to pour into the drink of the countess. The result of these inquiries was Ins en tire ;conviction of the health-restoring prop rties of tills remedy, and of the faith tnd devoted ness ol Zurna to her mistress, l icit there was some secret,some hidden mystery, connected with all her proceed ings he could not doubt, which lie left to lime to unravel. The Count then look some oft he potvder which by some means he had become possessed of, and poured it into two ettps. Zuina took the tirst, titnl the Countess wished to receive from her hand only, ihe salutnry remedy. All present were deeply afiected at these incidents. The countes-, abend) refreshed with joyful hope, received with grateful feelings the tender embraces of iter husband and Bealiice, and also ol Zumn and Mirvan, whose dear child die loaded with sweet caresses, and promised that henceforth she would be a second mother to him. Beatrice and the Spanish ladies surrounded Zunta, whom hey regarded with love and admiration* Beautrice, with much energy and emo tion'kissed Iter hand—that hand which i she had conceived capable of such e.xeia-l hie crimes. In the midst of this enthusiasm and excitement the viceroy took Mirvan ami Zunta by the band, and opening a win dow, passed out upon a balcony, which! overlooked one of the principal places of the city; he then presented the1-: to the Spaniards and Indians, who had assem bled in large numbers round the place. | • Behold,” he said, “the voluntary vic tim of gratitude, ot the sentiments of na-j lure, and the sanctity ol an oath! Ipdi »ns, you are free! Such sentiments ren der you worthy to become the emails of your conquerors. Kejoice iu this glory— '* is virtue which enfranchises vou. Love1 four sovereign—remain Uuhliil to him,I Some lands shall be allotted to you. Cul-| livate with sacred care the “Tree of Health.” and let it flourish forever. In cultivating it, remember that the unit ers is indebted to you for preserving this in estimable gift from lha creator. The fever very soon after left both the Countess and Znma. In the course ol eight days the former was so far recover ed as to lie convalcsant. On the spot ap pointed for the execution of Zuma and Mirvan, the viceroy erected an obelisk of while marble, upon which were en graved these words, in large letters of gold: “I a Zuma, the friend aud preser ver of the vice-queen, and the benefact ress of the world.” Thus it is recorded that the important properties of quinquina (or, as it is now called, Peruvian bark,) were first made known to Europeans by the Countess del Cinchon, who brought it into reputation after having experienced its good effects as a lebrifuge. It is also said that the cinchona trees which produce this sub stance, and of which there are several species, derive their name from the Countess, and that the bark was first called Pulvis Comitissa but that it was afterwards vended by the Jesuits uhder the name of Pulvis Jesuiticus, who de rived considerable wealth from its trade; Lind to this day it is called by some, Jes uits’bark. It was not until the year 1738 (hat a detailed account of the cin rhottu tree was published, previous to [which it,was but little known' except to the null -e Peruvians, who call the tree kma or kinkcn. F. S. “Alone in hi* Glory " M issachusetta Legislature has but one Democrat. A corespondent of the State a I M nine, writing from boston under date ol Jan, 8th has the following: , , In tlie political wilderness through which the community is wandering, the democratic party, in the person of Brown ol Tolland, roves in solitary grandeur, like one of Mr. Five-Years-in South Alrica’s elephants, hut not to be “bagged with equal impunity. Modest and upas sliming, jet bo/d and independent, of sound sense and ready wit, Mr. Brown is eminently qualified for the discharge ol the arduous duties devolving upou him as a pariy leader, as the rauk,*and, tile, the hone and muscle, the nerve and smew, the forlorn hope, the heavy £'col utnn, the dernier resort, and the cem- • mander-m-chief of the Massachusetts democracy, in Legislature assembled, flic eyes of the people are upon him. the hopes of many centre tn him; the democratic, standard is entrusted to his charge; it is ,‘neek or uothirigs”with him “root, hog, or die. Lei hirn remember this, and "go it” with indubitable pluck, _. r__ .l . i . . i i i • . ,wlO ,l"'o * *'-•*« U1IU Ulllll IIA JII U You remember in the retreat from Mos cow, the heroic Ncy was the Iasi man of the “grande urmie” to leave the enemy’s territory.—Flinging his musket into the Beresina as he crossed it he appear-' blackened and begrimmed before the commanding officer, and sublimely ex claims, on imerogation as to who he is, 1 am the rear guard of the army of France.” The session closed, we can imagine the gallant Brown, covered with the dust tud blood of tlie arena, flinging dov.n tis now useless pen, decendmg the Stau House steps, arid reporting himself to Col. Greene, at No. 19 Water Street, ‘‘I urn the democratic party of Massachu setts,— the rear guard ol the democracy ol the Union.” The pen ol lleadly could iloue depict the moral grandeur and sub 11 in tty of such a sene. A Wild Man in Waldoboro. The following singular story relative to the, discovery ol a wild man in Waldoborc, was handed to the editor of the Thom iision Journal by J. W, McHenri. The Journal says there are several persons who cun vouch for the truth of the state ments which it contains: M r. E *11tor—On tlie morning of Jan uary 2d while engaged k in chopping wo id a short distance Irom my house in Waldoboro, I was startled by the most terrific scream that ever greeted my ear;s it seemed to proceed Imm the woods near by. 1 immediately commenced searching round for the cause ol'this un earthly noise, but after a half hour’s fruitless search, I resumod my labour but iiaU scarcely struck a blow with my axe when the sharp shriek fell on mv ear again. E inking up quickly 1 discov ered an object about ten rods from n;e w Inch had the appearance of a minaturo human being. 1 advanced toward it, belt the little creature fled as 1 neared it. 1 gave chase and after a short run’ succeeded in catching it. I he little fellow turned q most imploring look upon me, and then uttered a sharp shrill shriek, resembling the whistle of an engine. I took him Jo my house, and tried to induce him to eat some meat, but failed in the attempt: i then offered him some water of which lie •l ank a small quantity. 1 next gave him some dried beach nuts which he cracked and ate readily, lie is o! ihe male gen der about eighteen inches in height and his limbs are in perfect proportion. With the exception of his face, hands mid feil. he is covered with hair of a jet black hue. — Whoever may wish to see this strange specimen of human nature,( can gratify their curiosity by calling at mv house in tue earstern pari of Waldo horn, near the Trowbridge tavern. 1 give these tacts to the public, to see if there is any one who can account for this w on derful phenomenon. J. W. McHenri. # By the death of Senator Moses N'orri Jr., New Hampshire is left without a Senator in Congress. Governor Baker :..i_• i i . 11 . ■ -- ,v» mi me uccasio I* oci l>y Mr. Norris death, whose thnn ex pires on the 4ih <d' March next. Tha Legislature to he elected in March wi I I’ll the two vacancies at i',3 scsv • n m June next. Ikish Companies Disbanded —By or der id Governor Gardiner of M.iasachu setts, all the volunteer militia coo panics of that Stale, composed t-f Irish mem bers, were disbanded on Friday last.— I here were even companies—four in Boston, one inch in Worcester, Lowed and Lawrence. On Friduy afternoon last, the members of the Massachusetts House of Represer. latives held a secret caucus for the notni ii ft ion of a candidate for U. 8. Senator. Hon. Henry Wilson was nominated — having 20l> out of S46 votes. The Sen ators had made no nomination). Tha election is to take place to-morrow. [O' Bishop Soule, of the Methodist church, said lately that ha wjis 74 years old, and yet had to learn hour brandy, tasted. It is too late ; he might have learned a dozen years ago. but sioca theu the article lias not been in use.—. There is plenty of rectified whiskey, fla vored and colored to inmate it, but bran dy itself is a thing of the past.