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FREMONT, SANDUSKY COUNTY, OCTOBER 12, 1850. NUMBER 31. -EREMONT FREEMAN: I. S. FOrKE, Editor aad Publisher, F Tk Fataaua, r published every Sataniavmorn lag- Office la Backland' Brick Building third lory, t remonu aauamnv county, unio. - '-''r , TERMS. Sin jrl mail fob-criber", per year, ' " Club of tea and apwarda, to on address Club of fifteen . Town aubecriher wiH be charred si 75. , 1 50 1 37J . The dif- fereoceio thn Urma between the price on paper jeuvereo iniownana tnos eul by mall, locca- aiooed by the expanse of carrying. - '. . ---' . When the money Uaot paid in advance, a above Specified, Two Dollars will be chanted if paid witl-- jn the year, if not paid antil nfter the expiration of rie year, 1 vu Uollara and Fifty cenlawill be charg ed. Th-ae terms will be strictly adhered to. " flaw to Stop Parca First see that tod hare avd for it up te the time vou wish it to stop;- notify the Past Master of year ck-eirp, and ak biro to no tify the publisher, under his frank, (as be is author ised te do) of your win to discontinae. . , v .-' -r RATES OF ADVERTISING. . Oue square 13 lines first Insertion..' $0 50 , junt - bucd eamuouai Huenwa t Do Three months. .... Do"." ' Sic months. 5 Do" i One tear.................... S!5 2 00 ....'3 50 5 00 .... 6 00 .... 10 00 .... 18 00 ....30 00 Two iqaareiSix anonthr. Do On veer... Half coin ran On year.;... .. ' One column On year. .... .. Easiness Dtmtorg. F R E n 0 J. T F R E E M A H .JOB PBIXTlXO OFFICEl B-- ' ' '- ' - ' ' ,'" '" ;W nre now prffuirvtf to weenie l srHrT. in ueat an exprrfiiima manner, and upuu the fuireaf lexmn; laluiost all deMripttenft of . ' , J B PRINTING; . . -.- such as L , " , . , .lUutNhU CHD, Bill Hkads. . Bills f Labibo, stacvLans, -. H .snaiLLS. " - -J- -T ' CATil.OOUM, ' . '-.- Show Bill. -.V '. '.tunicas! Br a i.i, LawTKHS' BuiSKS, MaaircsTs, f KHTiriciTita, " MILLS. . Dark Chech, ;: , I. aw Casks, ' Ball TicaitTi. arc", arc. ' ! We would av te those of oor-frienda who ere in -want of such work, roa need not go abroad le tret A done, when M can be dene jnrt as food at noma. SOXS OF TEJ1PEBAXCE, . Font gntrHrnfos Division, No. 432. Staled neelinga, every Tueirfay evening at the Divwioo Room IB Iha old Northern bxehnnge. I. O. O. F. Cioeatu Locor.. "Vo. 77. meetr at !be Odd Fel lows' Hall, ia Burkl-nd'a Brick Buildings eeery tBaturdny eeeniag. - -:- vr PEASE & BOBKHTSj . - aiAntirACTonKs or ' topper, Tia, and Sbect-iron Ware, " AND DKALKRS IN r ' :, ' ' Stores, STool, Hides, Sheep-pelts, Rairs, Old Copper, Old Stoves, &c, 4c. :' . JiXSO.KlS. BOUTS Or GENUINE YANKEE KOTIOKS Pease's Brick Block, IVo. ; FREMONT, OHIO. '-32 PHG9 BUCKIiAJVI CO., ' ... " DSALERS IK i ' v3rn?rs, Medicines, Paints, Dye-Stuffs, jjookg, Stationaay, Act . ; FREMONT, OHIO... - EDWARD F. DIGKI.VOX, Attornef and Counsellor at Lawi ' 5 . : ; h FREMONT, OHIO. ' ' Office" One door south of A. B. Taylor's a'ore.'up etatra. -' .--- Aoe. 31, 1S50. KlLPH P.BrCKIiAJfDi - Attorney and Connsellor at JjAxt,' V And Solicitor ia Chancery, will attend to rofes toaal bnsiaeaain Sandusky and adjoining counties. - Office Second story of Buekland's Block. ' FREMONT, OHIO. JTOHX Ia. gbeexe, -ATTORNEY AT-LA W, And Prosecuting Attorney, for Sandu.ky county, rill attend le all professional hasines entrusted to ili caret with promptness and fidelity. Office Ia the second story of Bucklatid's Block. v..,. FREMONT, OHIO. . - ' ..- CHESTER EDOERTOSi ' " Attorney and Counsellor at law, --.And Sol ichor ia Chancery, wfH esrefully attend ye all professional basiaess left in his charge. M Will also attend to the collection of claim &c, ia " Abie -and adjoining counties. ' - , ' -Office Second atory Bockland's Block. ' ' FREMOMT. OHIO. ' 1 - B. J.. BAKTLETT, Aitoriaey and Counsellor at Law, Will gie hia undivided attention to professional ttasiaes ia Sandusky sad the adjoining counties. -Office Orer Oppeuheimer Store; -; - :- " FREMONT, OHIO, i7' ; 1 f; ; - .: , . K. M BAJXA, . . rf ' PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON. TTIENDER. hi professional serrices to the citi J. sens of Frmenl and adjacent eonnMT. .""-v -- Offio-e Oue duir north ef E. Le-ppeiman'a Jew airy Store, wbere.be will cheerfully attend to, any calls, except whra absent on professional duty. June 84, 1850. ' -' - - ' " - IiA l. RAWSOX: e PrlYSIClAM ANO SURGEON, Offioe North side of tb Turnpike, neatl) oppo arts llia rest Utbce. . , , . ' -a -T .- . r FREMONT, OHIO. ; 14 PIE B HE BEAlGBANUl PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON, ... Respectfully tedders bis professional services to the citizen of r reroonl sua nanny, , ., ' Office One door worth of E. N. Cook' Store, PO RI.AGE.dOUJ T.Y. , Sfatnal Fire Insurance Company. JX. P. BUCKtiAU'D, Agent: -'. FREMONT. OHIO. ; " POST OFFICE IIOITKS. Tb regular Poet Office hour, until further no tice will be as follow: From 7 to 12 A. M. and from 1 te 8 P. M. 8uadays from 8 to 9 A M. and from 4 to S P M. if; W.M. STARK, P.M. Farms to Iet! - SE V ER A h FA B MS, near Fremont, and conve uient to the Turnpike, 0.TO BENT j , Some of these have Eiehly to Ninety seres clear ad thereon, with comfortable jionae, Barn &c. v, - Eoquireof SAML. CROWELL, . -- - General Land Agent.' r Mukalunge March 2, 185051-5. ... I;;-iF, 4 F. VANDERCOOR; l 'r MERCHANTS AND DEALERS - In al I kin ds of Prod u ce ; : H At the Old Stand ' Eonnerly occupied by Dickenson fe V. Doren. .EREMONT, OHIO. . :. ..4 , December 15. !S49 ' " , . " ' THE choieect Liqoor and Wine for- Medicinal and Mechanical purposes for sal at , Bccklakd's." , illtBcellaneons.. (sTOBYOFACLOCK. .; From the. Southern Literary Messenger. . , , ; 8TR0KB riRST. LIPB. - There is s delight that a large portion of the world knows not God has given it almost exclusively to the mother and father; and a holy valuable delight it is. I mean the charm of watching with untold interest and care the growing up of the child from the fee ble world of Notice, to the powerful world of Energy. The father knows the joy that crowds instinctively upon him, as he watches the gra dations of bis darling's growth ; and the moth er only can feel full sympathy with this feel ing of bis. And so the child is another strong tie or should be between them ; for man must fore that which yieldeth most sympathy. But that is a pleasure in which I am initiated. My heart was full for blessing to those who were around me: I could chime in with their feeling, I felt, more than any other. I love all, as they all looked up to me, and therefore knew that feeling. - . : - 1 -. . Esmond (my master) was a very happy mart. It was as plain as day-light the existence of which lias never been denied, aa the f rench speculator thanks God and really there wasn't the slightest pretext for doubting in the premises. ' Bless your soul bow could it have been else ? He had money plenty : he had a sweet wife that he loved till you'd almost call it sin. He had three aweet chil dren of the several ages of six, five and four the Inst bving theonly daily h ter. A very bon nie wee thing was little dimpled Fanny, (nam ed after her mother,) and the dream and day delight of the two brothers. These were two fine boys Esmond the eldest, and Richard the other; both comely and smart. And all the family ns healthy as, I! I said that Es mond's happiness was as plain ns day light. Indeed now that 1 bethink me, it was much more obvious. Day-light is very complicated as I understand it woven colors even as a rain bow. His happiness was far purer than that; for it was wrrathed. of affections the purest, of aspirations the holiect, of love the most untinged. Indeed I wondered when first thrown into this amiable family, how it was that so much of good was mingled with so lit tle of evil. I almost thought that the general curse naa never fallen there ! Never again do 1 expect to see any sight so lovely upon this green earth, as 1 saw in the peaceful and nappy home of Esmond. 1 here were no strifes nor aught but harmony ; in love they worshipped (od for blessings so great that they could not conceive them. The boys and girl grew ; their dispositions and physical faculties developed. Time bore the family on in Ins quiet chariot which makes no noise in its going. The yon ng men left their father's house bearing unnumbered blessings and prayers with them. They went forth in the great world 'to grasp its pleasures and to grapple its stints. The younger Esmond went into the great city. His keen, vimirous mind carried him swiftly on to prosperity, as the expert Cnptain soonest guides his hunt in to the haven. He lived with all the happiness that wealth can give, and withal high station. tie married early in life.. I know nothing of his wedded life, of its happiness or its cares, for I never lived with him. He used to visit us sometimes though, and they were a hand some enough couple at any rate. They had no children. . Richard also married a sweet lovely girl. I can see her now, with the fine calm face, the bright blue eye, and the f tir skin beneath her auburn hair all of which likened her to an angel with me. Theirs was a heavenly union, Uod knows how many are there such, I wonder? I do not think Richard was suited for the world as Esmond; nt any rata, that was the impression he always' made on me. There was something about him too calm and kind ly: something looked forth from his eye when he was by himself, and sometimes (though not often) when others were near. I would some times took at the book he was reading, for he was ever at his books, to see if upon its page there was not something slowing:, red hot. hich shone up in his eyes and made them flash and glisten. Having a competency, he entered into a more retired life than his broth er. He lived I believe in the country, wrap ped up in love for his family and in his read ing. It 1 mistake not he wrote too; wrote books that were sounded abroad everywhere, and sealed his name on the tongues of the great and small of all the land. anny was almost the very life of the old couple. . Their heads were now sprinkled .with snowflake8 which the wing of raerey yes, of mercy) scatters on those who have seen the spring-time, and the summer, and the autumn of life ; I do not mean, as seasons in cold or warmth but as times of life. She soothed the way did Fan and with ' her trained glance saw the motive of their pleasures and joys, hhe tenderly spnke to thum of the days past, of their darling sons and oh! her eve ry word was a pearl, as with the good and mu nificent girl that she had read of in the fairy tale years before, bhe thought when she read it, that it was all a foolish fancy; and never dreampt to the day of her death that it was realized as truth in her own angelic life! , And beautiful Fanny was beioved and ad mired also! There came from the gay city a dashing voung fellow, wealthy and high and handsome ; and her brother Esmond told her that he was the one for her band and she would laugh and turn away from bis earnest ness with glee: And there was another. A fair young man, not very handsome nor weal thy, but he had a thoughtful face that made me love him, and count him worthy to marry sweet Fanny. I thought too I ean't tell why that Fanny ' loved him. But really it was stranire to see and hear how her brother Esmond hooted at the idea of a match with him. - 'And how he urged the other from the city and spoke of his gold ! But good gra cious! I've been stopped an hour (The old Clock raised its hands at the enor mity of its delay. . It quickly, however, ran them around its face, and then followed with rather a mournful tone.) STKOKB 8ECOBD. DBATH. Change change change! So cry the moralists, and who can more righteously pro long it than a Time-peice ? ' I would bless the Ureat bpint for nothing, rather than this same universal law of Instability. .This life is wrought up of bright and dark pictures, and dark pictures, and the motto of Ancillon and Bonnet is as worthy in morality as philosphy Philosophy knows no useless irtUh. All have their good as well as evil .The pillar of cloud may have a dark side aa well as one of fire, but we are to be guided by both to the land of promise. Chance! it is a glorious, con stant lesson. In the revolving seasons which in their storms and winds and biting cold, tell the great power of God ; and in the genial spring in blossoms and fruits glorify His boun ty we love and adore the hand that establish ed mtdabilty. Who would love the flowers if they forever played in smiles about the face of nature ! None. See, "on yonder darkest cloud, born, like hallowed hopes, of the glory of another world, and the trouble and tears of this, brightens forth the rainbow." But why do the children clasp their hands in ecstacy, and run beaming with delight to peer through the window : and why do all exclaim and point up? It is because that bright and beautiful Bow will ere long be gone! Suppose the skies were streaked with rainbow hues; think you men would not pine for the blue air again ? Thank God! there's no such thing as same ness on the earth ; and he who talks of mo notonous life but shows short-sightedness. I don't know that I was thinking of these things when what I am about to relate occur red, or anything germane to them. They would however been appropos then, mar be, I think, now if it be allowed a clock to moral ize, and truly to my mind there's nothing in the wide world with better right, us I've be fore intimated. One day I almost he'd my breath and stop ped, at seeing lovely Fanny slip in the room hastily and bury her face in her hands. She was trembling, and oh, so pale ! and every now and then wrung her hands in silent ago ny, and wept Soon she left roe alone with ray astonishment - You may judge that this latter was not a little increased by a subse quent event, one of the most momentous of my personal history. 1 was to be moved I- Two men came in and bore me from my wont ed corner, to another room in the house. Alas! when I arrived there I knew the cause of all the commotion ; of Fanny's being mov ed to such grief, and my being also moved. There on the death bed lay the mother, sweet and beautiful in her sinking paleness yet, tho now full gone in age, There,' she murmured sweetly, whilst a smile lighted up her wan face, 'I'm very glad its here. ' that old clock is my dearest friend, 1 would have been ever thinking of it Let it set there till I die.' Ten thousand emotions filled my breast as she spake thus; feeling of pain at what I saw, of exquiste joy that I could yield that, loved one pleasure. 'But won't its striking disturb you, mother said Fan mildly. ' 'No, no : there's a sort of music for me in it love it won't hurt." All was still save for my ticking. It was a dear delight to have her melancholy face turn ed towards mine, and reflect that it caused her pleasure. ' The old man never left the room of her he had loved so fervently and so long. Fanny was the good genius there; she had always been good in truth but never so good and lovely as now; no, never. And so it ev er was and will be, that if cherished, our good Angels of life are brightest in the valley of the Shadow of Death. - Finally she died. It had been a fair cloud less day, and the setting sun had reflected its rays upon my face with unusual splendor. the bright moon, (I don't like to call it 'silver' it s too mercenary,) crept softly on the floor, low down, as if unwilling to be seen as well as unheared. - The night wore on : a night it was so filled with benuty and softness; so inspiring of tho'ts of a bct'.er land, that I had a presentment that it was a fitting time for that ioved one to die. I was not shocked when death drew nigh : when toward midnight she called all into the room and told them of the radient Home that she saw in the far off land. It was twelve : and ere the sound of my voice proclaiming it had died from the room, her life on earth bad faded also. The next morning as it shone in the room discovered Fanny sobbing beside the bed of Death, . But this was not all no, no! The grave of the lost one had not yet been veiled with the sprinkling grass when another misfor tune of the same kind occurred. - It was again death. Not however death of one who had long lived to raise up those' God had given her, and in blessing them feel blessed ; not the death of one looking back on- the long list of life s joys. Ho. out death creeping silently upon the cbeek of prime and early life, spread ing pallor on the countenance that seemed to be glowing with the spring breezes of many years to come. . . - Not very long after the death' of her moth er, Fanny sat conversing tenderly with her ven erable father. It was, I remember well, on a lovely Sabbath evening. 'Oh, it was hard, very hard !' sighed the old man, burying his face in his hands. 'Yes, my father, but could it not have been worse' The lovely girl could not have gone further. 'Worse!' cried the old man. . 'No, Fan no worse on earth.r A long and tearful silence succeeded.the old man then said to his daughter: 'It is wrong. Fan, for me to brood over my sorrow : I would be ungrateful. Read to me, child ; it will be very pleasaut for me to bear you. Fanny reached forward on the table and se lected a book.. The place where she opened was More's beautiful allegory of Prosperity and Adversity. In the sweetest and most birdlike voice I ever heard she commenced reading it The old man listened very atten tively. , She read of the arrogant wealth of Felix, to whose lot had fallen the fair nymph of pros perity ; of his pavilions and grand entertain ments. She read further on of his miserable and wretched flight; and of the oblivion that crept over his footsteps. She went on, and with angelic tone read of Urania, the Heaven ly for such the name signifies of sorrow and heaviness, of his fruitless efforts and wrestlings with the hard, unyielding world. And when way-worn he seemed to pause from his own spirit, and look to the ill-favored one beside him, Adversity: she read with a glowing eye, and features lit up with an unearthly trans port, the words of Adversity, thus; listen . 'I am sent,' said Adversity, 'by the gods to those alone whom they love; tor 1 not only train them up by my severe discipline to fu ture glory, but also prepare them to receive, with a greater relish, all such moderate en joyments as are not inconsistent with this pro bationary state. - As the spider when assailed seeks shelter in its inmost web, so the mind that I afflict contracts its wandering thoughts, and flies for happiness to itself. ; It was I who raised the character of Cato, Socrates, and Ti moleon, to so divine a height, and set them up as guides and examples to every future age. Prosperity, my smiling but treacherous sister, too frequently delivers those whom she has seduced to be scourged by her cruel followers, Anguish and Despair: while adver sity never fails to lead those who will be in strcted by her to the blissful habitation of tran quility and content' ' - She could not read further of Uranio's hap piness afterward ; but the same teaching which brought consolation to him, now caused Fanny and her father to be locked in the embrace of holy affection. Resignation would thence for ward move in the bereaved homestead. But alas! on this very Sabbath evening a messenger arrived in haste and presented a ' "te to Fanny. Poor thing! how was her spirit which seemed fast reviving crushed again, when she found that it . begged her to hasten to the house of her brother Richard,as his wife was taken suddenly ill. She too would die I thought and great Heaven, how the thought made my head to swim and my voice to quiver. I was not wrong. Fanny saw, as did Richard, that the lovely and youthful wife must die. Death-sleep silence reigned in our mansion for many days thereafter, for Fanny had written to the old man, her father, that she would have to remain and nurse her sis ter. 1J ut who shall, picture the old man s grief? Forgive me that I do not picture the death scene in the once happy borne of Richard tor the lovely wife died, leaving two lovely children without one on earth to call 'mother;' I would not if I could nor, can I, for I was not there to see and feel it cut on a lovely day as lovely as when Fanny's mother died I saw afar off through the open window of the chamber, the . solemn procession which bore the young wife's body to her last rest It wandered along by a sweet stream, and be neath waving though quiet trees on its banks. I looked on and on and followed them till my sight was dimmed by the distance and by grief The old man had gone out a short while before sunset to walk. A short time after his wife had been buried, Richard entered with his wonted beauty and composure.thongh very pale and leaning on his arm was weeping Fanny. After a brief silence the former of these spoke. Tell me. Fan promise me, if you will come and live with me.' - 'I will live with none after my father rather than you.' None?' - 'None!'. 'But will not my father come and we will live together,' said Richard. - - 'There is a memory that binds him there,' she turned her eye homeward as she said this. ' 'Ah, well but promise me, dear sister, that you'll live nowhere else save with me.' There was something singularly pathetic in the tone of this request Fan looked up quick ly, and observed an expression on her broth er's face akin to agony. 'Dear brother,' said she, 'why do look and beseech me so? I said it' 'Fanny' he replied, taking her hand affec tionately, 'I am aware that there will be an object in getting you to go elsewhere ; to live when our father has died in another place, a place where will be luxury and gayety more than with me.' Richard faltered here : his sister regarded him strangely, and with emotion . 'Fan,' he finally said, as with an effort, 'I'd as well tell you at once ; of late I have been in reduced circumstances so with me would be sacrifice.' 1 won't leave you for that, oh no! and I will care for poor little Henry and Richard." "Thank God !" said Richard, as be left the room. Fanny's eye glistening with thought The wealth that she would inherit from her father should be a bounty and a blessing to her afflicted brother and his motherless boys! There was an immortal glory in the design of blessing, that made her look angelic. It seemed too- whilst she sat after Richard's leave, that a holy atmosphere surrounded her which warded off for the moment stinglnggrief. Alas! grief of another kind and trial poor girl!- (Just here, to its own unspeakable discomfi ture the Clock discovered that its weights had been so interested in the narrative as to stop still quite. A moment of railing created some discord in its usual winning tone; and then came in a measure rather ominous,) STROKE THIRD. THE WILL. There is a strong pain attendant on a cer tain inevitable law of nature. When the old man dies listen to a hint of my feeling. Look ye it is as when the old oak, so long green, so long shady, so long known to me as the guardian spirit of the flowers and the grass of the yard ; it is as when the old tree falls, I feel like a part of myself, of my personality was gone. And the more, if that venerable asso ciate of a boy's dreams of a man's memories, fall by an unimely blast, or by the wood-cut ter s steel. The day succeeding the interview just de tailedonly the next day, just think! found the old man laid low upon his bed, and Fanny poor Fan weeping by his side. The old man not, but his countenance indicated to me some secret restlessness of soul. The old man's days were well nigh numbered. Whilst r anny stood pressing his hand, there was a low gentle knock at the door; and the visitant was bid to enter. It was Esmond. The old man rose feebly on his pillow and whis pered to Fanny; who immediately left the room, after receiving a kiss from her brother. Esmond drew near and took the old man s hand. Both were for some length of time si lent; and the old man's face seemed more sor rowful than ever. 'Have you well thought over what I said, father?' said the son finally. 'xes, 1 have considered and 'What?' 'I would like truly for Fan to have her own wav if I' What?' 'Could so arrange it properly.' The old man sighed deeply. '1 have frankly told you all, father,' replied the son 'am confident whereof I affirm. Rich ard is now penniless it isn't in him to be any thing else.' 'He has been unfortunate. 'All one all one.' reioined Esmond hastily and somewhat pettishly, I thought : 'it's all be- f cause he has no one element of success: and do you wish to encourage Fanny to live with him; she will do so, if she can, and ere Jong your money given to" Fanny will be Heaven knows where ! The old man was still, with anguish cling ing to every lineament of his face 'And then, father, fr yotf can loon out oj the place you're going toy you'll see Fanny wedded to David Gere ha! ha! and much his books will help the mope to support your daughter and make her happy. If Fanny lives with brother Kichaed he will bring it about; whilst my friend Bayne near the richest in the city will be disregarded in his attentions altogether, I suppose.' The old man's face showed a struggle, with in, yet bearing the same rigid grief. 'I will be plain,' continued Esmond. 'It is your duty to save your daughter from poverty. That will most certainly await her at Richard's home. Leave her your property in my hands to be enjoyed on provision that she lives with me. - . - The old man groaned. - 'Otherwise I. am not cennected with the matter, and,' here he spoke in such a very low voice, that I could not catch what he spoke; the old man's face changed thereat ' For some moments a death-deep silence prevailed in the room, alone interupted by my self. I felt nervous as to the result I long ed though I understood but little that the old man should refuse the request -of Esmond. I had no confidence in him, for he scowled al most when be spoke of his brother and of Fan ny's lover the fair, pale youth of whom I have before spoken. My heart was well nigh break ing when the old man consented, as he did. 'I will,' said he. - I have some friends near by who will write your Will then.' '.- Esmond rose and left -the room ; and as soon as he did so, the old man burst into tears upon his bed of death. - 'Oh God!' he cried, 'protect my dear child, and shield her from harm.' - The old man died I When a short time afterwards Esmond re turned, he turned deathly pale and felL I did not see any sign of grief no tear no sigh was there. - But there passed athwart his face an expression of rage shall I call it Bnd there by call him a fiend ! The old man had died, and that Will was not made. Looking on were two well-dressed, sleek-visaged men. I took both to be lawyers: one had some sheets of paper in his hand. , t Esmond rose up, and with a fearful eye locked the door. He then grasped one of his friends by the shoulder, and pressing his mouth close to his ear, whispered something I could not understand then. He whispered also to the other. The two looked at each other, and then bowed to Esmond who stood anxiously before them.' One of these was Bayne Fan ny's city suitor. The three sat around a table near the cold corpse : Good God ! how pale and ghastly the four looked. . The same rigid aspect of grief was written on the face of the dead clay : from the faces of the living there were looks as of murder and deceit and cf daring crime. I shuddered in that bouse. For some moments there was a stillness of the grave in that room, which I now felt was filled with the rottenness of crime. One of the men was engaged in writing At length he finished. 4 - 'Can you imitate bis hand precisely?' 'Yes, res,' answeied Esmond hastily, 'and a sick man doesn't write like himself.' He was about to write, when another hell ish idea beamed over his face. Can I tell it of the son of the sainted parents; of the broth er of Fanny and Richard ? Yes, he forced that pen into the fingers of his dead father's hand, and then grasping them with his own, he wrote his name on that false Will! "There we can swear to the letter of the truth now.' " A smile as of an infernal flame from Tophet lit up his features the devil! 1 he strangers departed after some conver sation with Esmond in whispers. -The latter then with a - look of hypocritical melancholy called for his sister. - She came swiftly, and another moment found her beside the body of her dead parent, bathing his forehead with her tears. As the senses diminish in point of number, they become far more acute: the ties to the world without it have more power where they exist. It was so with b anny now in the world of feeling. One bv one many had now been broken of the chords that twined around her heart and bound it in lqve to things around her: now all was centred in Richard for she knew Esmond but slightly. - ( The old Clock hastily brushed away a ris ing tear with its second-hand, and then, after a momentary pause, succeeded) STROKE FOURTH. THE TRIAL THE SENTENCE THE EXECUTION. : Many were there who came to the old man's funeral Close by the shrouded body there stood a young man to preach the funeral ser mon. I saw his face directly;-it was David Gere, the lover of Fanny, who had now be come a minister. All who were in the room held down their eyes weeping.- His only were bent upward. He spoke to them from those most soothing words, spoken by one of the af flicted and scourged of the earth, that our light afflictions, which are but for a moment are not orthy to be compared with the glory of fu ture revelation. He pointed them to that fu ture land of blissful repose: where a kind hand should wipe all tears from all eyes : where the wicked should cease from troubling, and the weary rest His face jhone (to my eyes) as he spoke. He was not loud in his words: Ins was a sweet, calm, enunciation that seemed to flash around the soul and found an entrance in the heart because it came from the soul. His voice quivered, and his eye was dimmed, as be continued bis theme. A long procession followed the beloved hus band, father, and say it the much loved master to his tomb. Sweetly I prayed may the grass wave on it Fanny left with her brother Richard and the young minister, I saw her not for some day 8; and indeed saw no one save Esmond who came frequently. I now for the first time almost in my remembrance, ran down from neglect no one saw fit to set me a going again. I could, however, observe. One day when Esmond had finished bis in cessant overhauling of furniture and other things, be wrote a note for Fanny to bis broth er Richard's; and in a short time she came. It was truly a most painful interview. I burn ed to see him kiss her the demon. 'Fanny, you will prepare now to come and live with me in the city,' he said. 'I cannot I have promised Richard she mildly answered. 'You will have to waive tnat promise, my dear, for the future.' , 'No, no I must not indeed; Esmond.' " 'I must insist on your going with me; it is entirely proper.' Fanny only shook her head. 'It is useless,' continued Esmond, 'to delay telling you that such is the will and dying re quest of your father.' Fanny started, and only replied, - 'he never mentioned it to me.' - 'It was nevertheless his last I should not say request but provision and command. am ordered so by his Will.' With that he placed the Will ia her hand. She read it, and as she did so turned pale and wept . .. - " 'You will see by that the wise plan of your muienieu lamer; you cannot disregard it 'My father, I know, would have left it to my choice; and you will agree' - 'I cannot he made me promise; you see that the only alternative to what he wishes you to do, involves the loss of property I would de light to give you. I will leave the matter with you trusting that you will not encumber Richard.without the meansof-self-supporthim-self penniless.1 . - ,- Yes! so did the villain speak, and then left Fanny to her painful thoughts. : A sad mo ment it was indeed for her already bowed spirit ; She thought over every thing, when Esmond left her there in the room; and the day waned in her -reverie. She' resolved to tell Richard alL And very unexpectedly he entered the room at the time, for her delay had caused him to come for her anxiously. She told him all; of her deep, unspeakable grief, and begged him not to attempt to sup port her, poverty-stricken. His answer at the end was, 'for God's sake remember your promise to me.' : '1 will I will,' Fanny cried, and sobbed on his bosom. . . . : i: ; ' - Esmond'sfeelings were balanced when Fan ny told him her decision. - A large property had been added to bis already large estate; but he saw likewise that he was destined to fail of the match he designed for Fanny, and which had now become a design of interest to him. . There was none but Esmond that knew of a certain secret drawer about me; the old man had never told any other member of the family and then only communicated it to him on his death-bed. , It was a place where be sept some valuable papers of title, in ease they should ever be needed. - Here it was that Es mond put the false wilL ; I recollect the time; it was dusk or thereabout and he looked around stealthily before he approached me. I-could have gladly choaked him. He hid it and left the room. I saw him through the window get in his chariot to go to the city At that instant a very large black dog jumped trom tne road side at the horse's throat saw that the horse shook off the dog and star ted at full speed . in great fright - That was all; and there was no other witness to it be side myself, that I knew. ; But oh Father of Justice! within half an hour after he had left the house he was brought back by four men before my eyes dead! There he was Stretch ed out on the bed with every limb broken, and every muscle seemingly mangled! 'How did the horse take fright?" asked one. 'I don't know; the first thing I saw the chariot was dashed to pieces at my side, and Esmond with it The horse dashed on; but be' the man pointed to the bleeding body- Tie ver breathed again, that 1 think! - - I could have told them much oh, yes: I could have told tbem of a devilish instrument of conveyance that as now kicked irretrieva bly in my bosom; and thai would never barm any now, for that it had been overruled as an invalid Will at the bar of the Omnipotent Judge of quick and dead! I could have told them of the dire stain that the poor body had been freed from when it lost the soul from its nostrils. That bloody corse was a thrilling sight, and caused thrilling reflections. A strange one it was to see, when the bearers bad retired, and Richard and Fanny, being called, stood over that body, little did they know of the dire evil which had been blown as a black cloud from over their heads, when Esmond died. Fanny knew more perhaps than her brother, buttold knot ' Both now wept: it was Nature that wept in them. God bless you, Fan! I have in my bosom that which could, and was to beggar you but I have in my bosom too much of love for you ever to give it up, ' . ' (A smile of joy lit up the face of the old Timepiece as he said this. He rubbed' his hands together, and on his forhead ; and there upon with a sweet voice as of music to all of us, came) -i s ; STROKE '. FIFTH. "WELL DONE ! GOOD'' AKD FAITHFUL SERVANT." But I must haste, for the morning dawns, as it now commences to dawn genially on Fan ny in my story.. None claimed her property now since Esmond was dead, except David Gere, the'minister, loved by all the neighbor hood as well as Fan. His claim wasn't an nulled ! It was a lovely day to my soul when I saw Fan, as fair as the lily that shone on her dark hair, and as pure, wedded to David in the house of her fathers. There she lived henceforth in peace and holy happiness : and to me it seemed that the hours gleamed on my face as they passed and warmed me into youth and yet glided so swiftly in the quiet joy that they brought, that my bell ' was put in requisition twice, to where it used to be once! A house of piety and gladness was that forever. And that was not the full meed of the cup of Pleasure. " God gave Fanny fair and bright children, thnt should call forth that deep fountain of purest feeling which lies hid in the deepest recess of a mother's soul and whieh the colder eye of man may not see or understand. - Esmond's wife came to live with hei broth er Richard after her husband's death at his urgent request The stroke of fortune teemed to have clothed her young spirit with an al together different temperament ' She was quiet now, and not devoted to gayety and fash ion: she turned her mind upward and sought her pleasure from above; She proved withal a kind mother to Richard's children. Of the two nccompliscs of Esmond in the procurement of the false writing, 1 need only say thai one went to the wars, and has been of late killed in a duel: the other is now suff ering in the Penitent,s lodge of the Fleet for forgery! - . 1 I have in my breast thnt Paper yet here it is, almost bidden by the webs of vermin and the dust as it should be. I have told you its history most truly. Learn by it greatest lesson's if you have wisdom. Ol my friends fire will not more surely burn the hand that is thrust therein, than that the ini quity of man will return to fiitrt ns Noah's ddve but will bring no Olive Branch of peace. The rich man that always speaks to a ponr relation, has gone to Spraker's Basin, tosptnd a few days with the old gentleman wfca don't meddle with other people's business:-- What a pair of curiosities they would make travel with, wouida't ther Wonders of Astronomy Beautiful .. i Description. . BY WILLIAM WIRT. ", , It was a pleasant evening in the month of May; and my sweet child, my Rosalie, and I, mounted to the castle' top, to enjoy the breeze that played around itand to admire the unclouded firmament that glowed and spark led with unusual lustre from pole to pole. The atmosphere was in its finest and purest state of vision ; the milky way was distinctly developed throughout its whole extent; every planet and every star above the horizon, how ever near and brilliant or distant and fair.t, lent its lambent light or twinkling ray to give variety and beauty to the hemisphere; v. hila the round, bright moon, (so distinctly defined were the lines of her figure, and so clearly visible even the rotundity of her form) seem ed to bang off from the azure vault, suspend ed in midway air; or stooping forward from the firmament her fair and radiant face, as if to court and return our- gaze, ..v We amused ourselves for some time in -observing through a telescope the planet Jupiter,, sailing in silent majesty, with his squadron, of satellites, along the vast ocean of space be tween us and the fixed stars ; and admired" the felicity of that design by which those dis, tant bodies bad been parcelled out and ar ranged into constellations, so as to have not only bean beacons to the ancient navigator, but, as it were, for landmarks to astronomers at this day ; enabling them, though in differ ent countries, to indicate to each other wiih ease the place and . motion of those planets, comets and magnificent meteors,which inhabit, revolve and play in the intermediate space. : We recalled and dwelt with.deligiit on the. rise and progress of astronomy ; on that series of astonishing discoveries through successive ages, which display in so strong a light the force and reach of the human mind; and on those bold-conjectures and sublime reveries, which seem to tower even to the confines of divinity, and denote the high destiny to which mortals', tend : that' thought for instance, which i said to have been first started by Pythagoras, and which modern astronomers approve; that the stars which we call fixed, although they appear to us to be nothing more than large spangles of various sizes, glittering on the same concave surface, are, nevertheless, bodies as large as our sun, shin ing like him with original and not reflected light placed at incalculable distances asunder and each star the solar centre of a system of planets which revolve around it aa the planets belonging to our system do around the sun; that this is the case not only with all the stars which our eyes discern in the firmament, or which the telescope has brought within the sphere of our vision, but according to the modern improvements of this thought, that there are probably other stars whose light bss not reached us, although light moves with- a velocity a million times greater than that of a cannon ball; that those luminous appearances, which we observe in the firmament, like flakes of thin white cloud, are windows, as it were which open to other firmaments, far, far be yond the ken of human eye or the power cf optical instruments, ligh:ed up, like ours with hosts of stars or suns; that this scheme goes on through infinite space, which is filled with thousand upon thousands of thousands of those suns attended by ten thousand times ten thousand worlds, all in rapid motion, yet calm, regular and harmonious, invariably keeping the paths prescriped to them ; and. these worlds peopled with myriads of intelli gent beings. . '. I . One would think that this, conception, thus extended, would be bold enough to satisfy the whole enterprise of the human imagina-: tion But what an accession of glory and magnificence does Dr. Hersbell superadd to it, when instead of supposing all those suns fixed and the motion confirmed to their respective, planet, he lossens those multitudinous suns themselves from their station, sets them all in motion with their splendid retinue of planets' and satellites, and imagines them, thus alien-, ded, to perform a stupendous revolution,- sys-" tem above system, around some grander unv' known centre, somewhere in, the boundless, abyss of space : and, when, carrying on the' process, you suppose even that centre itself not stationary, but also counterpoised by bther masses in the immensity of space, with which, attended by thti. accumulated trains of ' Planets, ann and adamanline rphrrri, " Wheeling ouabakeo through the void immenae,' it maintains harmonious concert, surrounding in its vast career some other centre still more remote and stupendous, which, in its turn "You overwhelm me," cried Rosalie, as I was laboring to pursue the immense concatena tion; "my mind is bewildered and lost in thef effort to follow you, and finds no point on which to rest it weary wing." , "Yet there is, a point my dear Rosalie the throne of. the. Most High. Imagine that the ultimate centre' to which this vast and inconceivably magnifi-' cent and august' apparatus is attached and, around which it is continually revolving .'Oh!, what a spectacle for cherubim and' seraphim, and the spirits of the just made perfect, wba dwell on the right hand of that throne, if, as-, may be and probably is the case, their eyes', are permitted to pierce through the whole, -and take In at one glance, Bllits order, beauty, sublimty and glory and their ears to distia- guish that celestial harmony, unheard by. ug,, in which those vast globes, aa they roll on ja their respective orbits, continually hymn their great Creator's praise! - , 4 , . ,t Tie Secret of Excellence. .?v Hazlitt, in his "Characteristics, says:,'ThS: highest pre-eminence in any one study cots monly arises from the concentration of the at tantion and faculties on that one study.: He who expects from a great name in politics, in philosophy, in art, equal greatness in other things, is little versed in human nature. Our strength lies in our weakness.. The -learned tit books is ignorant of the world. U who ia ignorant of books is often acquainted with other things; for life is of the same length in' the learned and unlearned. The tcind carr-i not be idle ; if it is hot taken "up with one thing, it attends to another through choice r necessity; and the degree of previous captcify in one class or aao'.bsr is a mere lattery."- " The following is a literal copy of a ieiler , sent to a medical gentleman: ' " ' " ' " ' .', "Cer Yole oblige roe if yole ium un cema I l,a.va'a Bad kowld, am Hill in my Bow Hills and have lostmy Happy TighVv !.',.'"-".";;!! . ' --n ' ' 0v ' . '! 7",-Jv-.Jr - Bbautiful.-."Ab winds th round h tree, as to the crag, the moss patch, roots s clings my constant solfl to thee !, my Own, my bcttuiiftit ! -i-MT boots I".