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VOL. IV..-NO. 3.
fUBHSIIKll WKT.KLT, Vlll B. RUSSELL. gf JiN'O SUBSC:mptio?t.-—-Two fi"" W ,Jf?r e'vcrv 'hrco ww"ths 1 dola'' in vost-paid. p. O. BECKETT «fc CO., Per Sired, one door b: low the Iowa House, 1\U.rtmont vp us reecived fram St. Louis, a complete of GROCERIES, which they very cheap for cash or country producc. !V 16,1313. CIIVKLE3 MATTO()?i, MM at Law and Salary Public, Blooming ton, Iowa, frlLL give pro npt attention to all professionalMm. i«*:i which he may be lavoied. He has "full IraiJ authority to administer oaths and take Wtonanis, or proofs of deeds, mortgages, fcjerirtfattorney,«"'! other instruments of writing, in the Court House. mar 1 43. I'tend promptly to any bustnees com. miite i to their charge. i \Ae«lvr 21 st, 1841. II. C. BENNETT, A O N E Y A A W BURLINGTON, IOWA, V[IJ, 1 take notes and accounts for collection, attend to the closing of books, and do all business in the line of his profession. He will ict as a e itjral a^-Mit and collector. delG T. S. PARVIN, A O N E Y A A W Bloomingto*,I.T. PUSLIC HOUSE. i COVE LL,respectfully informsthepwbWcthat he continues to keep a Public House at Sa il Muscatine county, Iowa, wher the best accom atii)iiscan be had, between Blooinington and Menjnrt. Private rooms to be had at all times, i iau'iltf is gooJ, and at all times furnished with i i tinUotprovender. He invites a test of these (Wiwwnk. Several comfortable houses to rent. •^l.'ern, I„.va, an 28 1812 U tf HOUSE, Landing, Blooming Ion, Iowa* ITHIIE undersigned hiving leased his long cstab |4 lisbeJ anJ well known TA\ EUN SI AND '•3 term of years, and added to it such an addition viil enable hiia !o accommodate ravellers and 4 .arein a manner more acceptable than its former Pensions would permit, returns his thanks for the jI patronage heretofore bestowed upon his house, solicits a continuanc of the same. Having ta |t-n the stand for a number of years, placing his reli i'-i lor patronage upon his merits, lie is determined *,'iuue, as heretofore, to strive to nieiil a liberal eof patronage by the use of every clToit to ren "'.f stay of his guests pleasant and agreeable.— STABLE shall at all times be supplied with the -".themarket affords, served up in a style not to •surpassed in any country. The BAR will be kept plied with tho choicest Wines and Liquors, and -iurroom hiving always been quiet and tree from I «, those wishing to bo retired need not entertain I' v feirsot \h« least disturbance. Porters always i ittewhnce to transport baggage from audio the Hmsc froe of expense. The STABLE, heretofore under his control, has taen leased to a couple of young gentlemen ofexpe •ncc in this business, and who are prepared with rses and Carriages for the use and t-ansportion of N«n»er3 o any part of the Territory, gentlemen families wishing to visit any part of the Territory, '1 ®iy kind of conveyance, can be accommodated liv "}"c,i:ion at the Iowa House, where their wants s-'a njJi.itoIy attended to. HtAT. for Drugs. F. o. S E A V V I S E W E E 1 Y O •Ttpipi#.. "mui.hi.4 J|1-"1' Dollars per ..SCK. When payment is not made AD aJJiii'onal chargc of Fifty Cents will untl1 l'ay* ,1* Subscriptions for a less term lhan l"1'sr vvill charged at the rate of Tim e Dol ing ,ce payment required. CO' No paper E'^vi until arrearages are paid, except at the 0f1C.\dVKii'nSTvo—For a square of 16 Ti^prtion. I 00 each subsequent insertion, 't- Lcr onrsin proportion. Advertisements office for publication, without dcsigno "X number of insertion will be continued un i out ciiar^Cvl for accordingly 5t«l uucarly -!Hlverrser,8, •uarta' TS,i «.ir in order to ftTJt3ters addressed to the TSditor, in order to Jre attention, mist ^rKltJ^OS. A. Ogilvic At Co. 1 1 V U O I S S I O N VL'illii'» i'oa'i^n-ind UomesticDry Goods JrWJrL««, Boots ind Shoes, Nails,Iron, Steel, Also, on consignment, a choice L'ojiit.iffinportcd Liquors.aliof which willbe Lvery low for Cash. [siojiniujtiin.July 30,lS41.-40-tf Dli.n. COVELL, S U E O & Y S I I A N SALKM, IOWA. IWCO wall supplied himself with Medicine i-inily to attend to all calls. He is thank f.rpast patronage. Jen. liwa, Jan 28, 1842 14 If J. K. TIKSHLKTl, "LOWE A DESHLE1!, A O N E Y S A A W iHoo/nin 'fon, Iowa. WM.FRYE. Bloomington, April 1st 1842.vl-34tf JOHN B. DOUGHERTY, •IPOTllECJUVii IMUGCIlSTs EWOM1NGTON IOWA, Peps constantly on hand, a cbmplete assort ment of Drugs, Medicines, Paints, Oils, Var j-'his, Dye Stuffs, Books, Writing Paper, Warp- Paper Ink, Quills & Stntionaiy of every de 'y !!l°n, all of which are offered low for Cash or Every article warranted of the best qnal N- B. Ginseng and Scneka Snake Root taken cschange Beckett & Co., "Warding and Commission Merchants,and A Pealera Groceries and Produce, few doors below Chestnut, on Water Stfeet, BLOOMINGTON, IOWA. A- 0»ix. 3Uefev to J.B VIE & Co., E^*r.TT 9c Co., s AuL LIVERP°°L, 8®U "GOOD BYE." Farewell! farewell! is often heard,/ From the lips of those who part ^is a whispered tone, 'tis a gentle popd, But it springs not from the heart It may serve for the lover's closinglajff To be Hung 'neath the summer's sky But give me the lips that frankly say The honest words—" Good bye Adieu! adieu may greet the ear, In the guise ofcourtlcy speech But when we leave the kind and dear, i is not what the soul would tcacli. "Whene'er we grasp the hand of those We would have forever nigh, e flame of friendship bursts and glows In the warm, frank words—" Good byelK The mother sending forth her child To meet with cares and t-trife, Breathes though her tears her doubta pttd tears, For the loved one's future life. No cold adieu," no farewell" lire* Within her closing sigh But the deepest sob of anguish gives-— God bless thee, boy Good bye!" Go, watch the pale and dying osse. When the glance has lost its beam, When the brow is cold as the marble stonc^ And the wotld a pass ng dream And the latest pressure of the hand, The look of the closing eye, Swfeuim of I'ain.—No Domestic Hapfiwess—Afi! 4 Fimewo Tiie Lovfe 1 Yields what the henrt must understtekJi A long—a last Good bye!" one will doubt the high courage of the Marquis ol Anglesey. While his leg was amputated he uttered not a sound. A bystander m'ght have supposed that he feit no pain. Hut a brother officer, whose hand he held all the time, told a clergy man, a frierd of minp, I knew an old clergyman who had ser.tlegan grene of a toe, to which Sir Astley Cooper frequently applied nitric acid, and he told me that, not liking to cry out, and not being able to swear, he always relieved himself in his agonv by spouting a sentance of the Phillip pics." Dr. Barnes, of Tavis took place, who was acting surgeon at Mac quarie Harbour, during 162Gand 18*27 for nine teen months, informes u»e that he saw in all 17,0U0 lashes given in that penal settlement. As it is a point of reputation with the convicts to appear to dispise the torture, and numbers of them are the most daring, determined, and ^ruicf ui.iuiuu^Uy uitiicisiirl the absence of all exclamation but. in every instance, something was noticeable which dis closed sufferingordetermination the shoulders were generally kept raised, showing the strong action of the surrounding muscles or, perhaps, a bulletin the mouth was found alterwards flattened out to the thinness of a water by the action of the jaw.—Elliotson s Operations without Pain. what refreshing, so sooiiiirg. so satisfying, as the placid joys of home See the traveller. Does duly call him for a season to leave his beloved circle? The image of his earthly happiness con tinues vivid in his remembrance it quick ens him to dilligence, it makes him hail the hour which sees his purpose accom plished, and his (ace turned toward home it communes with him as he journeys, and ho henrs the promise which causes him to hope, ot *o Thou shall know, also, that the tabernacle shall be in peace, and thou shall visit thy tabernacle, and not sin O! thlfejoyfu'i re-union of a divided family— the pleasures of renewed interview and conversation after days of absence Behold the man of science. He drops the laborious and painful research—closes his volume—smooths his wrinkled brow —leaves his study, and, unbending him self, stoops to the capacities, yields to the wishes, and mingles with the diversions of his children. He will not blush that hath a father's heart, To take, in childish play, a childish part But bends his sturdy neck, to play the toy. That youth take* pleasure in, to please his boy." Take ihe man o( trade. What recon ciles him to ihe toil of business? What enables him to endure the fastidiousness and impertinence of customers? What rewards him for so many hours of tedious confinement Hy and by the season of intercourse will arrive he will behold the desire of his eyes and the children of his love, for whom he resigns his ease, and in their welfare and smiles he will find, his recompense. Yonder comes the laborer. He has borne the burden and heat of the day the descending sun has released him of his toil, and he is hastening home to enjoy repose. Half way down the lane, by the side of which stands his cottage, his chil dren run lo meet him. One he carries, and one he leads. The companion of his humble life is ready to furnish him with his plain repast. See his toil worn coun tenance assume an air of checifulness his hardships are forgotten fatigue vanishes he eats and is satisfied. The evening fair he walks with uncovered head around his garden —enters again, and retires to resi and 4 oster & ichX4Xj Parhish & Welch. and GROUND AI (qx a&V, cbt.ap for cash by FOBECKFTT&CV the resi of a laboring man is sweet whether lie eats little or much.* Inhabi tant of this lowly dwelling who can be indifferent to thy comfort? Peace be lo this house.—Rev. W. Jay. The Cincinnati Commercial eaj» that the small pox is raging in some pan* of tbat city to an alarming extent. Jt IT8BE It t* i W O O *mJH/ AjyjrUM Woman! I might write chapters, yea, volumes, on this one text yet, whenee the neces sity, and to what use Who that has tru ly loved his race, or labored lo advance the cause of moral truth who of the wise and good and great, has shrunk from the avowal when suvrh is his duty, that in all time since first the erring mother of man kind more lhan atloned for the first, aye, and only sin, by the sublime endurance of her after trials, until the present time when all that lends a lustre to the human name is woman's gentle sway over man's rougher nature—who of these, I add, let his position be what so'er it may, but has given homage and borne high testimony to the unfaltering trust, atld never daunted vigilance of woman. The love of Woman! Well, well! It matters notto swell the prologue for every human soul that is true to one generous or chivalrous dictatc must yield to the mother and the wife, the prayer sustaining daughter and the prayer ful sister, true tribute when comes the tempest that beats down the strong, or the fell mower whose arm is strung when wide before him is his harvest—Death. It matters not, I say, to treat of these for show ine but a man who will not own that such is woman's own peculiar field how gracefully imposed, as gracefully dis charged, and I will (ind vou one fit to en act the crimes classed, by. Ui£ great Daru of Britain, as— Treasons, stratagems and spoils." Ttie clock is on the ehitne of twelve, yet still the wife (how memory nestles to the term like exile to the name of home will not forbear the vigil of—1 will not say despair. All vainly do 1 urge that she will leave to me all further cares of the dull pinioned night, and seek a well earned respi\e 'till the dawning. She turns to go, yet the faintest movement of the consumptive sufferer brings back her knee ing form, and again 1 hear her love brea thed inquiry, as o'er his levered brow her hand rests tenderly, or her own burning ips are pressed, as though she hoped (how love will dream—even when stern reason laughs its dreams to scorn) that they might win him back to health 3gain, as when in earlier years they roused the bounding blood to joy extravagant. Again he smooths his pillow again the cup is proffered whose medicaments she fondly thinks will mitigate his restless cravings again her ear is bent to catch his death drawn aspirations, and then- Enough. Cheated by the sufferer's list less lethargy, she thinks he sleeps, and disappears but not until her latest glance meets mine own with such a prayerful in terest therein, that I were verier caitiff than ever walked the ramparts of a lea guereil city, if I allowed sleep to steal on and take me for a moment captive. She takes my blessing with her, and my pray er, so do all have it—be it worth much or little—who in the pain-strewn walks of human life, forget not that the purest at tribute of life is, to smooth the pillow of the dying, and pluck from death the sting of drear abandonment. But I am inter rupted* en honrs have p»»»id how drearily, all those may understand who've passed them by the sick couch. Thrice had the pale, demanding features of ihe wife peered through the half opened door to note how fares the invalid. It seems as if his very respirations can cheat her of the boon of slumber, and that priceless gift—the only earihly Lethe of the wretched may not be her's while she is tossing on a bed of an guish. What if there have jarring chords and sounds discordant broken the music of her married lot—what though he may, perchance, have dealt unkindly with the heart whose maiden purity knew not a cloud along its surface when first he wrote love's characters thereon? He may have proved at times unkind—and wasted with a hand too prodigal ihe deep stored treas ures of his children's mother, yet have not these a place nor-memory now Life to the sentinel star of the sky, her love looks out through the storms of the past to guide and to console him to make her what she vowed to be at the altar's foot, to prove her all that the Benificienl designed her to be, when in the bowers of Paradise she BLOOMINGTON, IOWA, FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 1843* From the Cleveland THE UNDYING LOVE OF We^A*. Itf an's love is of man's life a thing apart *, 1 Tis woii|ap^ existence." Fklicia ITkmajtji. Htfwurrs:—I am, for a marvel, in a serious mood, and loop myself to your button hole. Lend me your columns. I am a watcher at the couch of a sick, alas I fear me, a dying man and although it might be supposed that preacher (ike cog itations would intrude on the pauses bet ween duty to the diseased yet far differ ent run the currents of my mood and why ?—because I am again a witness— 4 how often have such opportunities been mine, and yours, and r.ll the worlds !—of the tried truth, the patient sufferance, the real fidelity, and never swerving love of woman. iOi-'^i-ii!.-^ II 4.' I 1 was the fairest flower in the possession of our common father. A wife's deep love all selfishness debars From the pure fount whence its affections rise, Ceaseless its watchings, and the glowing stars Keep not more constant vigil in the skies. It knows no change danger, disease, or death May bid it turn from where it learns to love It lives while life retains its fleeting breath, Then passes on to kindred realms above. It is so with man Does mutation come upon his heart as comes the keen kiss of the North wind to the leaf of the syeamore Does he imitate woman in her nnchangeableness, her self-denying, self-abandoning, ministrations Alas hew true is my text— Man's love is of man's Bfe lTltiingrl$*rtr*i He gatheres the flowers in its morning what cares he for it when ihe destroyer mars the perfectedness of its beauty. 1 have written thus much lhat I may hinge a moral on my lucubrations for a moral there is to it, and it behooves me to deal fairly. Go ihou, man celibate, and therefore, fool, go out into the world, and find some gentle being with whom to share the bles sings of unclouded manhood. Knit her affections to yours by the holiest ties—the tic lhat has its upsprinoing at the altar, its decline (if you regard it rightfully) in the grave. Let her share with you in your joys, and mv life on it, she will not shrink from the endurance of your sorrows. Clo ser than the links that bound the Moabitish woman to ihe sorrowing Naomi will be the bands that unite her sympathies—her life—with yours. When comes the tem pest of adversity, the more insidious foe man disease, then will she prove the min istering angel that I have witnessed to night, and to purchase which, a life-time of kindness on your part would not be an unequal equivalent. Go then, and before your manhood draws to this arctic twilight before age with its weariness and its con sequent misanthropy pall over you with its sunless sky, earn a right to the conso lations lhat girt the domestic circle round about as Israel was accompanied by the cloud and pillar. 44 causa femina liieris moverit," said an an cient writer, if my latin hold3 good through the vapors of a long night's vigil. He lied mosl /bully lied—thai foul-minded cynic a .1 e —, withal—I have ever found, lhat although lo woman we may charge some of the er rors of poor humanity, yet ever—when we see life in its most beautiful guises, it is when woman is the guiding principle, the Mentor, the Consoler. God bless her, and. but the star? have fone to bed and I'll to my coffee. Thomas Jefferson'Jaoksos. 'tilE BITTER NIGHT. i ', BT MHS. C. H. FOUD- 4 Four weary, lead Fling anoiher fagot on the fire, my child,' said a weak voice, as of a sick wo man, 41 am very cold. How the wind shakes this frail cabin. Ah it was not so in Alman Castle, when your dear father lived. The meanest hand had then a com fortable toof and plenty of fagots. Little did he think his wife and child should ev er suffer thus.' The speaker was a lady already advan ced in years, whose originally fine dispo sition, penury and disease had rendered querulous, i he person she addressed sat by the scanty fire, preparing the evening meal, for although the storm rendered all without dark, the hour was not yet thai of the usual twilight. Clad in coarse and faded garments, with hur lovely face worn with sorrow and care, it would have been impossible to recognize in her the once pround heiress but for her graceful figure, the proud eye, and the air of refinement about her face and movements, which nothing could conceal. She heard her mother's command with a sigh, gazed wistfully on the sole remaining fagot, and then mournfully continued her occupation Clara Alman had been born in almost princely halls, and educated as ihe heiress of the broadest domains in the north of England. Up to her fifteenth year the sun of her prosperity had been unclouded. ?he was beautiful even beyond her sex, and already surrounded by noble and wor thy suilois. To one of these she had pledged her virgin heart. All the deli cious emotions of a first love ware hers, and life seemed to lie before her, like a flowery path beneath a summer morning s sun. All at once a clouiLcame over her sky.— It was the era of the crusades and when the lion hearted Richard assumed the cross her father, and subsequently her lover fol lowing his example, set forth in his suite for the Holy Land. With many tears Cla ra and her mother saw them depart but honor bade them forward, and the wife and daughter, even amid iheir sorrow, felt they could not persuade them to remain. A long year passed, then another, and then a third. At first Clara heard at long intervals from hers'iitor, but in the second year ihe intelligence arrived that both he and her father had fallen, in a deadly ski1"" mish with ihe Saracens led by Saladin in person. The melancholly news was, few months later, confirmed by ihe arri val of a squire KJ+ ADVJ1.VCE: FOUR DOLLARS JT TMB EJV 11), ij I. w'.'li _j, 1 ll' IftmJikmmmi i I jjj^11" 4 of the late lord, who said he had seen hi? master fall in battle 0» added that Clara's suitor had been slain in attempting to save her parent. This cir cumstantiul account destroyed the last hope lingering in the bosom of Clara and her mother, and they wept long and deeply, almost benumed by grief. But from this sacred sorrow they were suddenly and rudely awoke. The"vasi estates of Alman, though entailed in the male line, were to have descended to Cla ra on her marriage, by the consent of ihe King.—But ihe deed had never been made Richard was now in prison in Germany, and his base brother John ruled unright eously in his stead. The claimant lo ihe estates was in high favor with ihe disso lute prince, and now came forward to de mand the domains. Rage and revenge were uppermost in his heart, for he had been a rejected lover of Clara and hav ing renewed his suit, after the death of her intended husband, had been again refused. Malignant by nature and pitiless from de praved habits, he Ml no remorse in eject ing both mother and daughter from their habitation, and leaving them utterly un provided for, to the most abject poverty. All appeals to the prince were in vain. He stooil too much in need of supporters to his usurped throne, to venture a rupture with the possessor of the Alman manors. Since this event nearly the who'e of a long year had elapsed, which had been spent by the sufferers in mingled grief and penury. Winter had now come, and the rude cabin in which they had found shel ter many leagues away from their old res idence, shook in the tempest, while the snow beat in between the chinks, and the cutting blasts sent a chill lo the very hearts of the inhabitants. 4 4 Mulier copio, non est Why don't you put on another faggot?' querulously said the sick mother, as a rude gust whirled through ihe leaky lattice, and made her shiver. Poor Clara, though far less warmly clad, endeavored not to ap pear cold, but the icy blueness of her skin contradicted her demeanor. The tears gushed into her eyes. She looked around. Dear mother,' she said, 4 Merciful God,' exclaimed the mother, plasniiiff hpr hiinla ond !ifiinor liBp oiea ta heaven, 4 4 what will become ot us I can endure this cold no longer. I feel I shall die before morning. No fagots—oh vir gin mother of Christ have mercy on us.' Mother,' said the devoted girl, running to her and clasping her around, I will hold you in my arms all night. I am young, and can impart my warmth to your frame —Cheer up, dear mother,' she continued, though in a voice of alarm, for fright, and the bitter chilliness of the atmosphere were rapidly producing a fearful change in the parent's countenance, 41 now.—Eat—and 4 will put on the other faggot—we will eat our scanty sup per, and you shall drink the last cup of wine. We kept ii for an emergency, and when can we better use it. To-morrow will be clear—I know it—I feel it, and then we can get all we want, for I will beg for it sooner than see you thns Dear, dear mother, see—the fire burns brightly we will seek rest—and you shall all night sleep warmly in my arms.' God bless you, my child,' said the mother, and the tears gathered into her eyes, but 1 fear the wor^t,' she continued, with a desponding shake of the head. 4The storm looks as if it would last for days—then what will become of us Clara shuddered. Her heart felt as if oppressed with a mighty load, for as she listened she recognized those deep tones in the tempest which always forebode a duration of some days. Had it not been for the presence of her mother, whom she fell ihe necessity of encouraging, she would have sat down and wept in despair. Suddenly there was a knock at ihe door. Both females started and looked at each other. Clara hesitated lo move. A voice was now heard asking admittance from ihe awful storm, which the traveller said surpassed any he had ever witnessed. Fear was no part of Clara s nature. Her heart was ever open to pity. Without further thought she unbarred the door. A tall figure, wrapped in a knight's cloak, followed by a servant, entered. The in truder lifted his cap as he came in, display ing a weather beaten face, surmounted by thick locks of grey. He shook the snow from him, advanced to the fire, and then with surprise in every feature of his coun tenance ranged around the room. You seem illy provided lor such weath er,' he said, turning, for the first time, to Clara, 4 have you no faggots The poor girl shook her head. 4 One can't expect a stoup of win« lft such a place as this,' he said apologetical ly Clara gave a silent gesture of dissent as she returned his gaze, 4 then Henry, we must thank the saints there is some lefi in your flask. Give these good peo ple a portion, for they seem to need it Since the stranger had entered, both Clara and her mother had gazed at him. without removing their eyes for an instant it might be at his free demeanor it might be from some other cause. Now, for the first tiawrback to the servant h-f-y 4 O E 4 Henry 4 4 4 we have but one more faggot, which must last us 'till the storm abates. If we use it now we shall have nothing with which to cook our scant breakfast in the morning.' whole¥o.I«^v m* who hitherto remaining in the back ground, adranced at these words to the fire. Tho eyes of the girl and those of the follower met. 4 4 Clara were the mutual ex clamations, as they fell upon each other** bosom. My husbandf' ifras the simultaneous ejaculation of the mother, as she faintly opened her arms to the older warrior, who starting at her voice rushed to her, recog nizing in the tones the bride of his youth. By our patron saint,' said ihe earl, when the mutual surprise of the parties had been, in part dissipated, 4 this beat* the romance of the Round Table I never thought to find you here. By the wrong/ and his brow darkened like n thunder cloud, have you been brought to this pass Clara, for her mother was unable to compose herself sufficiently to become the narrator, now related the story of theirpi* pulsion and subsequent suffering. By St. George,' said the irrascible earl, starting up with flashing eyes and shaking his clenched hai.d fiercely, 41 u ill pull the beard from the miscreant for this outrage. Richard has returned, know Jre, my sweet daughter,' his mood changing, and he ac companied the words hy drawing Clara to his bosom—4 the king shall have his own again, and we will rout this villiain from my father's castle, ere a fortnight* ti The lover now fur the first time iutiB* posed. Should we not, before we talk further,k he said, 4 procure fuel for the fire Hap- pily I noticed a ruined shed, about a hun dred yards distant. I will go and tear enough of it down to keep up a roaring fire until morning. 4 Well said, and I will assist yob,' said the bold earl. In a shun lime they had brought to the hut and piled up in one corner the neces sary fuel. As ihe last load was cast down the earl turned to Clara, who was weep ing and smiling by turns at this great change in their circumstances. 4 There, now lhat Lord Henry has won it, go to him with a kiss, you weeper,' ho said with almost boyish spirits, 'and he will tell you how lie did not perish in tho battle, but, stunned like myself and buried Saracens^ "and how after a long confine ment, we escaped together, and have finals ly reacecd home. I will tell the same to your mother—go, sweet one, but first glfli your father a kiss.' That was a happy night in the hut oft the heath. As the old earl said afterward, never in the proudest halls, had he speut one like it. Little remains for us td tell* The n|g$t morning saw the sun shiuiug orightly on the landscape, and ere noon the whole par ty, deserting the frail cabin, had found re fuge in a hostel, about four miles distant, which the earl had been seeking ihe p# ceding night, when, in the darkness, b4 lost his way. The return of Richard spread uuiversal joy among his people. The flght of prince John wa* followed by that of his chief favorites, who justly dreaded the wrath of the monarch to whom they had proved traitor?. Clara's unworthy cousin hearing at the same time of ihe return of his monarch, did not wait for the appear ance of the latter but took ship immediate-' ly for France. Great were the rejoicings at Alman Can lie when the bold earl once more took hit seat on the dais in the greal banqueting hall, and greater still were ihe bonfires and congratulations when, a few months later, the lady Clara became ihe wife of him she had loved so long. A. 0. Brown9on.—This intiettetrftiai Weath ercock bids fair to add much more of injury than honor lo the Democratic party. Admit ting his peculiar taW nts and hi* original mind, we never believed lie could be of any real ser vice to the Democracy—and glad were we when he cut himself adritt of the parly. But he is now furnishing weapons for ilie Federal prints against those who have fed him with office. The National Intelligencer, and other Federal prints, are now quoting his denuncia tions against the purest Democrats of the age, and the principles which they advocate. These quotations are gathered from the Democratic Review, for which Mr. B. now writes, having an unexpired contract to fulfil with its publish ers. A happy circumstance will it be, nol on ly for that work, but the Democratic P&rty» when his term of service is completed. Mr. Brownson, although a man of unquestionable .•euins, is eriatic,unreliable, visionary, and vain in the extreme. He bus been radically Democratic—"destructively"so—he has beer! midway, and lamely conservative—be is now highly aristocratic in his opinions—as ultra Federal in his sentiments as Fisher Ames. He seems to regaid the "dear people," at whom he continually sneers, as mere instru ments to be used by the sprouts of an intel lectual aristocracy,* who are to be heid up to the view of common folks' as something sa cred. For one, we beiieve the intellect of this roan is only excelled by his insufferable vani ty and unparalleled egotism. We are glad tin* party is rid of him and his transceadonul va garies.—Newport (N. H.) Argus. When are soldiers stronger than elephants When they carry a fortress! Why are those who visit tber Mathew's converts in thoy avoid the crater, (cratur.) & '4 4 k- Ml a N 51 Vesuvius ke Fa- Ireland ifMaaat