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Wvming Star and Catholic Messenger.
W ORLANS.a SUNFDAY. MARCH e4. 1855. (ICr the Morning Star sad Catholle Messenger. ELLEN FITZGERALD ; (A jOVtL.) ,eatutlyediated N t emar of RICWAIRD 'AVI W rLA~ B, thie rlih Exile ,rd Poet, at 3. E ELDER. (Continued.) CIeAPITR XXXV.I 1 Ellen shuddered with the Icy thought that forced itself upon ber, but she knew too well I that there was something more than death, for blm abe loved, to meet, ard sbe prayed that grace might ehage his sorrow Into Joy andt 3ll his heart with other thoughts than those of love for her and bitterness at his fate. What beautiful instruotionas fell from the 1 lip of the priest, calming the taurmol of dis appointed hope, and making Life and Death r assumes a newer, holier upec ! rhof H leexaluned the tea the Cthnur, . retled the mysteries of Fbaith, pctored thei - oys of HOpe, the enduring beauties of divine I Ire, until Davis'l heart glowed within him, sad that peace which surpaeth all under- a tauding, began ite heavenly mimion. The other prisoners rouned themselves from their stupor of grief, and listened to the only e.lqence that can touch the soul of man when near the hadowy land. He spoke then of Life, its ahorthess and its pain, and dwelt so forcibly upon the glory awaiting the virtuous soul beyond the portal of the tomb, that many there wondered why they clung to life when such an " exceeding great reward" was near at hand. He painted for their bruised and bleedIng hearts, the dreadful Passion orthe Man-seod hew, reviled, abandoned, outraged; He had trod th wine-press of suffering, alone I How He had borne thes of o .eothers wearIng all the anguish and guilt of the world upon His --thorn-rowned1brow, and lying down at last upn the bed of the aross, ie vs himself to be their ransom and their sacrifie. lie bUe gone before you, my cblldren, and the grave is bright since then. He has drained the chalice and turned it. bitternes to joy. Along the royal road He waleed, He.calls on you to follow; and, unlike Himself, He gives you comfort, friends and human love to aid yon in the way." Their tears were falling fast when he ceased to speak, but their souls were strengtbened, and they felt that it was "not all of Life to live, nor all of Death to die." Then be administered the sacred Rite of Re generation to Mr. Davis, over whom there came that luitliBle grace of which the out ward sign is bat the symbol. He realised even, as Ellen did, that Heaven was worth more than Epyth, apdthat the "stainoless robe" his soul hatl naony put on, wu irer in the eyes of angels -than any earthly- bridal vestn When the Lt wa rds were spoken: "o live that you ms bear this robe natted o t tomb," no other thought dbisturbed the no - made Chrititts's soal, but ose: oflovlug fear last anworthiness like hbimligt Yever win the crown, for wJsibhe was now. willing to part with life and youth and love itself. " And lou fart'ell,, mny' children. I ask Almighty God to bless you all, for He alone an either help yo bear yqpr cro or cnhange it at Ilia pleasure. His peace be with yon ' Change their crossy Thee words fell on ears that knew there was no hope: but they also knew that a little patience, a little struggle, a little while of pain-and all would be changed for them. It was morning. The fresh, cool air told them thil: the faint, tender light glimmering through the sky, showed them this ; the grad ually growing noise of stirring life beyond ter prison, brought them news of thisbut tby only felt that Time's night we passing apdly away, and Eteqrlbs right day was itwiug near. In Ellen's heart there was grownlg a dull anxious, aching pain, which she.could feel now since all her uneasiness for him had pass ed away. It was for herself she sorrowed now. It was the dismal Life before ber that brought this bitter pain. If sbe too might only die! It was as hard for her to be resigned to live as it had been to him to die. She was tearless now-waiting only for the parting moment, praying for herself as well as for him-listen nag for that coming noise which should change this dullness into actual torture, this apathy to pain, this waiting to despair. Davis had scarcely spoken since the waters of Baptism had fallen on his head-its grace upon his soul. He sat with her hand in his, but she knew that the presoence of God's mercy was more reatand vivid than her form beside him. She was glad of this; only it so widened the distance between them. It made her feel that be no longer belonged to her, that God had called him, and that no earthly hand could held him back. Still she was happy ia his happiness-only she pitied her own slowly, sassly breaking heart. She thought of home, of Mrs. Brown, of good old Polly, as of persons she had seen orne in a dream. The past was all a vision-there was no future in her mind-the present alone covered and bid everything with its certain darkness. she even remembered theebony crucifix Mrs. Brown had given her one Christmas day, and shuddered at the strange remembrance. She sesalled the bridal feather-wreath, and smiled at the delusion hidden in its leaves. "All my hopes have taken wing," she thought-"like the birds whose plumage form ed that Oirland. They are dead, dead ! No rand, however skillful, can ever weave them Iato life and joy again." She then wondered if she would be permit td to bear his body back with her to New Or leans. Sb~ w-ould lay it by her uncle's side. She would guard it through all the years to some, and when her own life ceased to be, sbe weould lie down beside him and rest so well! Her ricbes should be divided between Mrs. Brown and O'Nel, the noble, true O'Neil. She found herself thinking of him, too, as of some ee she had once known, long--long ago. She realled the names of all the O'Neils famous in Irish bistory. She remembered it was a royal name, conferring on its holder kingly authori ty. She found herself unoonsciousnely repeating lins from her country's ballads, telling of O'Neil's fame and glory. •' A prinse ta lteek, in deed, in ord." And her heart paid tribute to him who rep resented all the nobles of his name. What a kind and faithful friend he had al ways been to her. Another rhyme came to her bewildered fancy, and she repeted it to herself. " * wab s that friend A ief of oewer. Vhs aujrdla eof a klngdom's weal Th wonta p-de sad Umsters power, A pranceo a here-t OaNil Then she thought of her homeward journey how gentle he would be-how pitying to her aerrow Even as she thought of this, Davis turned and spoke his name. "Ellen, thank ONeil for the blessing he breoght ms with yenou. I should like to hold bhis hand once mere-but you can tell him this." There was an nusual sound around thenm. Some one had entered the room, and was nlowly readingoffa liet of names. Naues only Ah Hteavenl. He was reading Death with every sounod; he was crushing life from many, many hearts; he was blackening many, many bhomee--and yet he reld but tea abort names. The doomed men stoo~d up, and stepped aside .as eaeb heard his name readl out by that cold, nnfeeling voice, hard as their doom, pitiless as their fate. Davis presmed the little hand be held within his iron grasp, and only whispering 'My Ousardin Angel lrewell un ll we meet again," turned and took his place amongaS Was this Death that was apmiag to bhel This dimness of her sight, this dulanes of hbr brain, this half unoonsisoea feeltg at het heart-she could pot see his thee, bbhe eald not even feel the meaning of th seene around her. A pleasant calm name over Beem ahlg seses, a gentle mudo seemed wafted to her ar-, a soothing radiance seemed to bold her la its cirle--- But suddenly shae started to her feet.--All, 11 had gone I bhe room was silent and desrt ed. The door was flung wide ope, and the sunlight shone through as though to eface the blackness of the deeds it looked upon. She sped along that dewy, grase ead. She knew by instio the way to goe r felt tbatJust beyond that olamp of meful tees whose foliage bid all distant v iw, those ter am bad been-halted to meet their doom. - 814e heard a woman sobbing-a young obild crying out aloud-and yet she passed them bShe gained'tthe grove. She saw the clear, cold, open space beyond. Ten men were kneeling there, ten new-dog graves besidq them-ten rough board eooes near at hand. A sqnad of soldiers stood in front and partially hid the scene from her straining eyes--soldiers with gleaming guns, and sunh stony, frozen faces! Her gasze ran along the suppliant line. ere at the left, nearest to her, full in sight, even in advance of the other nine, knelt one she knew so well! How came he there ? What did it mean f Where was the form and face she came to gase on fondly to the last f Was she crazed with grief or wild with fear ? With flying feet. with wringing bands, with frantic screams, she cried out aloud : " O'Neill O'Neil! O'Neil !" The glare and roar and smoke of twenty muskets drowned all sounds, dimmed every sight; but through it all, she saw the young, enraptured face looking up to death! The bright, olear eyes shining with the glory of a noble action, the sweet, sweet smile that seem* ed at once a mate farewell to earth, a glorious weloome to the angel-messengers hovering near some one rushed between her and the dread ful sight-some one calling on God for help,for vengeance-and yet she knew it was too late ! O'Neil had died for Davis. The latter had been held, bound and tortured to see the sacrifd, and to know that Life was granted him through another's noble, willing Sdeath. Even as the truth flashed upon him, and he had struggled to free himself and take his place upon the ground, O'Neil had waved 149 hand in token of farewell, the short, quick orders were given, and the muskets' rattle, with a woman s cry, went up to God together with those Innocent, noble, martyred souls I Too late f Even as Ellen gazed through that throbbing, dazzling air, there came to her the rememn bhrance of that pictured scene upon the lamp. ' Iiade in the little sitting room at home. She seen it all before I Here knelt the brave. i d youth. Here shone those luminous, t of eyes. Here beamed that glorious, radiant smile But this was no visjoq that wquld fads away-no dream that soon would be dispelled --no picture that might be effaced. This was truth. This was real! Still she realised it not: still she hurried on : still she wailed forth the name of him. who bad never failed before to answer her Strong arms obeeked her progrees-beld her in their fond embrace. Warm, loving lips pressed themselves upon baer bloodshot, strain Ing eyes. Tender, trembling hands enohbed her to a tortured breast; and she heard Uhs voice whispering mournfully: "Life sad love! But parebased-O my Gt God t-at what a fearful priceI gCBaPra xxxvIr. SHeomeward. When Ellen recovered.from the mournful swoon, into which she had fallen on Davis' I breast, days had rolled into weeks, weeks into months-and with the passing time, had come t that which was called-Peace!a I Such peace as comes to the struggling bird a when the snare is round it, and its wings are s broken with the binding folds! Such peace as the wild deer feels, when, weary with its long, long flight, beset on every side, and powerless a to escape, it falls upon the ground to await the Sfinal blow ! Such peace-as the graceful giraffe knows, when the Afric Lion leaps upon her back and fleshes his fangs in her quivering breast. Over plains and heights she flees, she tremblee-rallioa-strains every nerve anew; but all in vain : "Her struggles only serve to draw her life blood faster !" Ellen only understood, in that one moment of consciousness, that her cross had been changed: but the anguish and regret hidden in the new, seemed almost to exceed the pain and torture of the old. She had been placed under the care of hos pitable friends in a cottage near the town, and a gentle little Sister of Mercy watched by her bedside both night and day. When she first returned to the actual life around hbs, she found the good priest bending over her, while the little Sister and Mr. Davis were kneeling on either side of her sick bed. She was being anointed for death. But in her case, as in that of many another, " the prayer ot Faith had saved the sick one," and she returned with humble spirit and willing heart to the new life before her. Days afterwards, when Davis was by her side, and she could thank God for this grace, she asked the priest the question that lay upon her mind at all hours of the day: ' Why did he do this t Tell me all you know." "What can I tell you, my child, that your heart does not already feel? He loved you so well that he died to make you happy. He told me he was a lonely man, without any tie of'kindred, and with few friends in this coun try. His life had been an aimless, useless one, benefiting no person, blessing no- heart, brightening no home; but his death might be the means-of bringing to you all that had been wanting in his own life. You must not weep so paseionately, my child, his wNas a noble death-a martyr'svictory. I envied hin, his joy! Be happy for his sake,. and remember him in your prayers. This was all he ask'u ; for this he died.5 "Aimless! useles! True, brave, geonerous O'Neil l A noble life has been given for a vi.ay worthless one, a eaiuted soul for one detliltd, an undaunted heart for one most cowardly ail weak r" These were Davis' words as hs bent over Ellen's wasted hand and mingled his tears with hers. "No, no." said the good father, "such was not his opinion of the friend for whom he laid down his life. ' Davis is deserving of all I purchase for him, and my sacriice is not worthy of all the happiness and good that Ellen's life and his, will aeoomplish.' These were his words, spoken with all the sincerity of a true heart in that moat awful hour, and acoompaoied by a conviction of their truth that made him almost gay. lie went to meet hisdoom with a look of such perfect happiness that I knew it could only be the index of a heart replete with peace and joy." " Did he leave me no written word-no fare well message " asked Ellen, longing to see something that woulia-ppeai directly to her heart front him, and soothe her terrible regret. " lie did, my child; but I fear you are not yet strong enough to read those last w,,rds." "Oh! give them to me, father. They will comfort me as nothing else can do." The priest handed the folded note to Ellen, and then lefst thle room. The dear, quiet little Sister knelt down as though to pray for him who had written, and -BWh who was naow.. 9q the. solelmn as I ifn of ton -.d# .n* ie they were! "nolw.lh U this l the Iset time U hears. Nergive yes iu the thougthat joy wl follow foreve now. He' w,o a o have .. ore with yor love is worthy of the boeas ed aos year united lives I ask 0e% oholesst blessing. Lit noet my name e omit-in your rayes, nor my emory be formY in our Dome. I would tat my doth could have ran somed ten innocent lives, bnI give it willing ly, jofully, for one alod. --"I Doctor Dalto nes aliv te, ll him I did what be would have done; but if he is deed n I have reasoh to believe-lay me at his feet, and let me sleep within his venerated SW' illiugly!I joyfnllyl" 8he oould not, did not doubt it a she remembered the ter rible scene that had strunok her blind and senseless. His face bore the impress of all that he had written, and his parting smile had been one of ineffablejoy. Thank Go4, she had seen that look and could treasure it in her heart forever! "I have permission, Ellen, to remove the body to New Orleans; and as soon as you are able to travel, we will, with our sacred bur then. journey homeward." ' How etrap is this remark of his concern ing Dr. Dalton said Ellen, looking up into Davis' tfoe wi a bewildered eaze. "What reason could hi hare had for su6h a thoughtt" "I do not know, indeed. Even the good priest could not tell me this, so that we may never know; but his fear was well founded, his supposition was indeed correct." SWuatl Is my father's friend-and mine dead f Shall I see Doctor Dalthn's face no more i" " No more, my darling. Late news from New Orleans bring the sad tidings. _He died the evening before-before--this saoriee was offered for you and me!" " Then they have met ! and I feel that they are happy. -One was Ireland's Poet, the other was one of Ireland's Kings. It is right that they should rest together." It was a painful blow to Ellen, however, and she mourned for both dear friends with nohing heart. But at last, thanks to the dear little Sister's care, she was so for recovered as to begin her preparations for returning bome. She had re ceived several letters from Mrs. Brown, full of affection and gmpathy for her, and of admira tion and grienor O'Neil. " Everything," she wrote, " was ready for her arrival in their little cottage, and she was longing to embrace her child once more." "You will be a wife when you return to me, dear Ellen," wrote the lonely widow; " bet do notleave me. Make this little house'r home, and let me still be your friend and mother." "Yes, the day bad come when Ellen was to becomethe wife ofJames Davis. The body of O'Neil way to be raised and transported to the boat in. hq morning: the good priest was to bind together the two lives for whose bappi ness O'Nell had offered his; and then, in comn pany withthe little Sister, who was on a mis sion to New Orleans. they were all to return to the dear old'oity. The very soldiers who had been detailed to execute the bidding of a merciless tyrant upon the helpless men, were the same who were sent to bear O'Neil's body to the boat. As the little group stood about the grassy aennd, Ellen leaning on Davis' ae the little 8Sster hovering near like an angel or pity, and the good priest praying audibly forthe depart ed soul, even the. soldiers forgot their wonted calmness, and many of them wept aloud. When the coffin was raiBed from its lowly resting place sad laid uoon the grass, Ellen knelt beside it and.hid her face upon its rough and blackened boeards. The little Sister placed a bunch of clover leaves upon it, and the Irish Cathollo soldiers of the party murmured aloud: "God rest his soull He was one of Ireland's true men I" Just then Davis. stepped forward, and, lift ing the weeping girl said: Ellen ! here, wi th tis offin for our altar, let our hands be united, forif ever the just in Heaven are permitted to behold the scenes of earth, his spirit will hover near and bless our union." " Yes, my children," said the priest; "this is your marriage day : let your bridal vows be spoken here. Surely there can be no place in which those words will seem more solemn and more sacred." The little Sister placed Ellen's hand in that of Mr. Davis; andin a few moments the words were spoken that made them man and wife. Beautiful sequel to the bloody deeds enacted there! But those ten, rudely mado graves around them, were too eloquent of grief for aught but tears to celebrate the nuptial cere mony. How many homes had been made deso late forever by the unreturniug forms that rested there! How many hearts had been robbed of all earthly joy by the unawakening eyes that slumberee . ~! . lho, fend, faith ful wives had seen their marriage joys fade suddenly into darkest widowhood! What trust ing little children, calling in vain upon their father's name, would never receive an answer to their ory! What aged mothers, waiting long for those strong arms to bear them up, had gone in lonely sorrow to the tomb I Alas! Thesememories haunted every heart : and he who stood above those graves blessed with life and hope, with youth and love, mourned most of all, because of the ten, the noblest and best had given up life's blessings, life itself, to purchase them for him. " It was asingular but happy coincidence that the same boat conveying O'Neil's body, accoom panied by the newly married pair, should also take on board the returning Dudley family. Ellen recognized them as they came on board. The feeble, delicate invalid leaningon her son; Kate, pale and sad, watehed over by the ever faithful Jim. Were these all What had robbed Kate of all life and glad ness? What had robed Mrs. Dudley in that widow's dress? What had changed Willie's once bouyant step to pne so full of care and sorrow ? Well might she askm-and well might shbe weep when told the bitter story ! Oh ofrle0if which there is no remedy I Oh deeds for wihoh the,, ij uno atonemnent! 'IT1"-,,, are thine, poor Southern Land, wid ,,wel and made desolate. Thy sons' pride end uelTilness laid low, thy daughters' joy and beauty gone forever! In Elieu'seyes, Mrs. Dudley, in her grief and widowhood, was not an unfit symbol of the land she loved-of the Cause lost for a lIin' in a Sea of Sorrow i Will the waters of atlietion ebb away and tih.- tiecaitiful spirit of freedom be lifted from thlb delep, robed, as of old, in snowy garments, and glowing with ansunbright rays? Ah! who can tell But what comn(ort Ellen brought to Willlin Dodley's heast, u shbe toll him all she knew of Leonora's truth and lov,! She remembered his last words, his last look and, as she gazed on his one, poor artn, she re called how both had been flung out in pasion ate hope towards her whom he loved. sT' e they were strong as his young heart, endor ,u; as his young hopes, brave as his young spirit. Noow the heart was sad, the hopes were crushed, the spirit bowed and anguish stricken. Still it was not all gloom. Leonora's love was the bright sunbeamn shining through the Present darksess and lighting up the avenues ! of the Future with a golden promise. [To be Continued. I The MonNsio STAR is always for sale by Mr Cbhas. D. Elder, 124 Camp street, who Is also nuthorised to receive subecriptions for the paper The ase of Arsfleess . elea... The Establibshmels at this time nearly swamped In -seam of troubles. Debates in Convocation, where even decent order is not eulsily maintained; eourtly Bishops holding out the right hand of communion *te Presbyterians in Scotland, and offiiat fog in their kirks; grave questions 5s-ta very mysterious doctrines fought before the Privy Council; Parliamentary commis sions upon ritual; meetings to reform the Reformed at St. James' Hall; assaults not only upon the expediency of the public use of the Athanasian Creed, but even upon the orthodoxy of some of its clauses.; petitions to Parliament against this or that partica lar privilege or immunity :-these are only some among the chief difficulties against which the State Church is now contending. That they are the natural and neeest$K result of the schism of the sixteenth cean tnry is undeniable, and that the end of iI all will be, and soon will be, a thorougi disruption, is no less clear and certain. We keep a watchful eye upon all that iI taking place, and renard every movement with the deepest interest. The break-ni of a great religions system, numberin amongst its thousands and tens of thou. sands men of the highest intelleet, of the purest intentions, and of pious lives, affect others besides those who are striotly mem. bers ef it; -and this indepeodbntly-of the political consequences which will accom. pany a severance of Church and State We would wish to direct our readers' atten tion especially, therefore, to a very remark. able quarrel between an Alllcan Bishol and one of hib Archdeaeib, the corre spondence about which has Just been pub lished. The Bishop is Lord Arthur Hervey, thi Archdeacon is.(George Anthony Denison asod the cause of cyptention are varionu Ritualistic observances in the Archdeacon' parish phurch. It seems that Mr. Deuisoi has been ill, and absent from his care to some months. On his return, convalescent be not only taught High Church doctrines which had been, he tells us, his nnbroke, austom for many years past, but added I sharp sting to them in the way of nev ritual and ceremonies, which could not fai of being understood and felt even by the most thick-skinned of his bucolic flock The rumor of all this would quicklj spread beyond the-.confines of his own par ish, and as quickly and surely two of thl neighboring parsons would be found cage to interfere. It does not matter that thes men have neither the ability nor the learn ing of the Archdeacon, nor that their name are utterly unknown, and that probabl, they are ignorant of any theology excep what they learnt from Paley and the publi cations of the Parker Society. It is quit enough that they hear of frequent services of attempts to carry out a decent ceremo nial, of bxhortations to confession, and thu like. All this they know instinctively no to be according to the spirit of the so called Reformation, and so far we eutirel; agree with them. But they make a ferthe stride, and conclude it must be against the letter as well as the spirit. So the usna course is entered on. First, advice to the discontented parishioners; then, a remon strance from them to the Archdeacon; then interference by private letter, in the wa, of admonition, from the neighboring"in cIembents-one of these letters from a Mi Filleul, most offensive in its pious oilines and assumed superiority of position, MI Denison for the time puts into his waste paper basket, to be afterwards, pulled on for public amusement-then, appeal to th Bishop, who sends a kind warning to th Archdeacon; the whole closing at last wit] an indignant refusal of obedience on th oneside, and a sudden exercise of authori ty o0 the part of the Bishop, who with draws the-license of both the curates, thu -so far as may be-leaving Mr. Denison still weak from recent illness, to do alon all the work of his parish. It is quite impossible, within our presen limits, to give even an abridgment of the correspoiidence, which fills some sevent, pages of closely printed pamphlet. We may say, however, that while we recognize much courage in Lord A. Hervey got fear ing to attack boldly a'men whose energy scholarship and obstinacy are so well know, as the Vicar's of East Brent, we can hardl| see.how he can justify, even to himself, at act of authority which severely punishes -two curates who are not responsible for the acts complained of by the parishioners whilst he does not proceed to take the pro. per legal steps to punish, if lie can, thi vicar, who is alone responsible. However on this point it is enough to add that at appeal has been made t, Dr. Tait, who will decide whether the unfortunate curates are to be dismissed and the vicar to escape. When we say escape, we mean for the present, for Mr. Denison distinctly tells hi, Bishop that he will not altar one ainats observance or practice, nor one tittle of his teaching. Thus the matter at present re mains. The glove is thrown down, and it is a very pretty quarrel as it'stands. And it is a very important quarrel. I! is scarcely to be sdpposed that an open de. fiance of his Bishop by an Archdeacon of an Anglican diocese can be left utterly un noticed. To dismiss a couple of curates is a small matter in comparison, tyrannous as the unreasoning exercise of mere power mayseem to be. Moreover, what are the aggrieved parishioners to doY And the neighboring clergymen I And poor Mr. Filleul, who has as yet enly an opportunity of airing his own insigniflcance The mat. ters specified as being contrary to the law and tie rnbrice or the Establishment are neither few nor trivial. The comprise adoration of the elements on the altar, after the (sen pposed) consecration of them; lighting candles; elevating the cup; invo-. cation of the Virgin Mary; acolytes; cross ings; obnoxious rites on Good Friday; ex hortations to private confession; prayers for the deid. A long list, including almost everything whibh can, like a red flag before a bull, raise thecholer and disgust of every right thinking evangelical in the reformed church. The Archdeacon has seldom been known to do things by halves; there can be no donbt whatever that he has now flunog before those with whom he disputes every i,,'~~ile bone of contention which could be iuamed.--L.ondon Tablet. A bridegroom in Cleveland kept the wedding ring in his mouth during the first part of the ceremony, so that he could find it when the right time arrived. lie mum bled the respooses all right till the minister winked at him as a hint to prdtuce the ring, when, in his nervoounn.s, ,loe wallow ed It, and the marriage had to be concluded withonut a ring. The quickest way I.,r a man to forget all eommon misery ie to wear tight boots. INSURANCE COMPANIES. NEW ORLEANS MUTUAL NSURANCE ASSOCIATION, Office, No. 10 Eiohange Alley, SECOID ANNUAL. TATEMENT. In oornformity with their oarter, the Insurance Asso elatlen publish the following statement : Premiums for the year ending Deember 31, 1671: ltre Premlum.................$S... see, Malata Premiums................ 49,917 14 BRvel Premiums .................. 138,698 38-760,.74 36 Is unearned Premiums ......... 114846 11 Lees Returned Premium ........ 5,05 96 Less-Rebate...................... 6,063 7d-138.605 85 Net earned premiuI ............. .....$1,13 47 nlre loses ................... 071,788 59 ....................14,154 3 liver losses ..................... 4,8 6 ERainurancee............... ..... 76 s Internal Revenue. State and City oTaxe..n..................... 11.1 Generae lspensees ............. .. 45,74 39 Prodst an e los.:... ..............11,607 6P G. A:, arI. Losip nteresk ote.......................783 677.. . 6.060 3 Premiumrs In omrse of collection............ · 660 Real etate...... ................... 40.309 00 Cash on ard. . 190.304 I6 Funds in Europe ........................... 1,379 39 Total ................................... $1,2814 03 The above statement s a correct transcript from the books of the I nsurae . calatioon. C. CAVAROC. President. OG. LANAUX, Seoretary. P oHar fOrn oUT INUNew On. Sworn to nd eruboribed before me, this sixth day of I JManuary. 187. G. LE oGADEUR. Jr., Notary Pubmlo. At aespecial meeting of the Board of Directors, held on the 6th of January, 187, it wa resolved that interet of Ten Per Cent per nnum on th capitl paid in, sra a dividend of Thirty.Ave per sent oa the net earned paretcpatin preminms, be.paid on and aIter the 15th ot February. next, in cash, to stockholders who have paid their subscription in full, oan by credits on stock notes of subscribers on which blans are de. It was furthermore resolved, th stockbolderl will have to pay, on the 15 of February next, all balsaces then remaining due on their stock notis. .. CAAC, Prresident. G oW. NOT Sccretary. Chna. Cavaroc, S.'Cambe, Chas. de Royter, Athur Pelioy, T A. Reichard, o retl se. Leon I 1tae, Jr., , S. Ws e so 1.14 721y A. .lt " MERCHA'NTS'' MUTUAL INSURANCE CO. OF NEW ORLEANS. In conformity with the reuirements of their chbart, the company publish the following statements,. Sreminum recived duin the year ending May31, 1871, ncludiong unearned premluom ofnh and aftert On Fire Risks.................. ........... r .6 On RMaine rlks............................ 0,8066 61 "TotalPremium ..__" .....................$1,101,069 64 Lees Unearned Premiums................ I,49 to Nt eamrned Premlums, Iay 31,1871........ 6679,040 64 ,Losses Paid: On Fire Riks .............. .....50 , 37 On Marine URisks ............... 50 2 On river Risks ................. 7,791 Esl Total .........................571,19 27 Taxes ...................... .... 46,31 71 SReinnranoes and return pre. um .................. 30,068 37 Total ................... ...... ,396 3- Deduct Interest, lee expense. 33,960 75- 6615,13 60 Pset..r.............................. $2663505 04 The company have the the following assets: Real estate......... ................. 11065 11 City bonds ................................. .254,00 00 Bank and railroad stocks ................ 37,4300 t Notes secured by mortgage......_ ....... 410,039 80 Notes secured by pledge................ 103,596 0 Rills receivabla.......................... .... 57.735 43 Premiums in course of collection..........: 2,023 94 State bonds ................................ 1,50 000 Scrips of other companies.................. 6,119 50 SStock of Valette Dry Dock Company ....... 19.800 00 Stock of Levee Siem Cotton Press........ 21300 00 Stock of Marine Jky Dock and ShIp Yard Company................................. 3,700 00 1Harbor Protection Companv ..............._ 1,500 , 00 Mortgage Bonds Grand Lodge of Louisiana 2.000 00 Mortgage BondsTurners' Assoclation...... 12000 00 Mortgage Bonds Odd Fellows' Hall ......... 5 00 00 Stock Opera House Association............ 3.000 00 Judgment ................................ 18.134 10 SCas on hand ............................... 381,36 9 1Total asets.............................61,487,169 57 Less-Unclaimed interest and interest payable July next on all outiuding swripe of the ompany ................ 7 8,745 90 Issue of sorip for the yers 1863, 1864 and 1865, payable in July 179,690 00 Unearned premiums on May31,. 1871 .......................... 9.2.42 00-$481,057 90 61,002,131 67 Tbhe above statement Is ajjust, true and correct trans. c- t fr he company. P. FOURCHY, President. G. W. NOTT, Secretary. rSTATS or LoW 5IArA, Parish of Orleans, City of New Orleans, Sworn to and subscribed before me, this third day or Jone, 1871. JOSEPH CUVILLIEB, Notary Public. At a meting of the Board of Directors, held on the third day of knee, 1671, it was resolved, to delare a Sorlp dividend of TIIIRTY per cent on the net earned particlpating preminms for the yearending May31, 1671, for which certificates will be issued on and after the 1st day of August next. Also, to pay, on and after the second Monday In July next the whole issuu of Scrip for the years 1663, 1864 and 1665, and 531 per cent in. rtest on all outetsandingSecrp-fthee m pany, P. Forehby, L. F. Generse, P. Maspero, P.S. Wilts, D. MoCoard, S. Z. Relf, M. Pulg, Joseph Hey, D.A. Chasalx, Charles Lafitta, J.J. Fernundee. jell 71 ly EUTONIA INSURANCE COMPANY Op NEW ORLEANS. Insuro Fire, Marine and River Risks at Lowest Rates. TEMPORARY OFFICE, NO 11 ORAVIER STREET NEAR THE CORNER OF CAMP. apital............................ .1,00,000 Subscribed...........................700,000 A. EfMER BADER. President, CI[ ENGSTFELD Vise Puesident, GEORGE STROMITER, Secretary. A Elmer Bader - -pra-. B Schmidt, Theo Lliienthal, Louis oebelder, Frank Roder, J M Sohwarts, Rermnua e Riots F Rckert C H M iller, Jacob Hi inger, Ch Engutfeld, S L Nasi. H. Pohlsaa , Louis Schwsrtst t LL Mayer, ESei , . ---7-Wui. u ,c . Jell 71 ly INSURANCE COMPANIES. NUW O lX8 MUTUAL INBURANCR COM PARY. Om0*, coraer of Camp and Canal treets. Assets, December 31,'1871 .........$94,579 90 sares w ire. M.ealreta d ier I. uli t. pre.ta oa ech depabitme ineawrn the ( ereLw j. W. HIPOKS. ecnretary ` hitr > TINnERS-PLUMBERS-IRON WORKKiS G OEGE CRONAN, .e G 0 CO (Sucoesor to Bennett & Larps,) Southern Ornamental Iron Works, Corner Magnolia and Erato ste., Near Jackson aslream Depet, New Orleans, L. Blakenaithing and Honeework in genml, Vealt, Store Fronts, et, made to order at the artest net.... Omoo a the Foundry. sU71 ly 5' FOUNDRY, (Estabilahed In 18M) Corner Delo nd Fonoher treete. sraw yJ,ýtoat Pr,~ Judaoa Gs Oovrate New al kind. of Plantation end ieaoat Weeks, every deoscription of Mehaery for the outh. apis ly L 8EDI & 00C Jonx Mn . & IL RU E M"cJ 'TYT * A I.PL3ALW . PLYMBEBB, --aD--" Dealere In Cooking Ranges and Rotlers, Bath Tube Water Closet., W Stands, Elbtoen Sink.. Lift nd Force Pun ss lP n.l BSet and Lp dip Bria and Pla dCeeh o llj1ees 146............POYDRAB BTREET..........10 12W OLZNA S, N. .-ents for Colwehl's, Shaw 4 Willard Patent Tin Lined ipe. - 4rants pt up, extended, and repaired. ' " TnyL dea n. ·4ld a 1 11 FINANCIAL. LOUISIANA SAVINGS BANK AND SAE DEPOSIT COMPANY, 61...............Camp Street...............51 President-W. VA Nosax. Vice President-.Hxnr PacAve. Cauhier-JoN 8. WAIzJos. Henry Pe chard, President Hospo IN-an.e Ce. W.1i Hol N ombe. M. D. Dvd Wae. of Waace & Co John S. Walton. Henry J. Mallan, of H. J. M>lh & Co. W. " n ;ordeu.o W. . m of Pelgr & Ce - del7 1l 9 Exzcu e.:....... l ..............az names SIGHT DRAiTS FOE SAI. O~L - - THE PROVINCIAL BANK OF REuLAND, In some from Gao was seidins up, Pyable at the following kabranhss CootohCll,, Mghsm, En,, noSibbroam. BAllyma, Dulr, ~Dt Nmi Oioa.NoS ao.18ro. 5rET cor Kilkenny, Trroe., DConnl. Glwney. Trpabne. Colorino., Limerice, Weekend. Clogbehen. Londoadorra. Watrford. Carriok-n.Sulir, Mallow Yoaghal. DUNCAN. ANUMAN fo CO., ool dm No. 184 OGrator stree, Now Orleans. NEW ORLEANS -SAVINGS INSTITUTION No. 187 CAN.AL STEBET, L. F. GEN'US. Presidet. se24 6m SAM. JONES. J.. Treasurer. HIBERNIA BANK OF NEW ORLEANS. NEW OnLoats. June 19. 1871. STERLING BILLS ON THE HIBERNIAN BANK, DUBLIN, payable in all parts of Ireland, from One Pound upwarlds, for sale at this Bank. Je25 ly JAS. J. TAELETON, Cashier. FOREIGN EXCHANGE. SBoUtram Ba. New Orleans, May, 1870. This Bank will draw BTERLING BILLS I sums to suit parties wishing to remit small amouats to England or Ireland. C. LIVA 3DAIB myl4 ly Cashier. WESTERN PRODUCE, LIQUORS, ETC. EDWARD BURKE, WINES AND LIQUORS, 186 and 192..Tchoupitoulas street..186 and 191 mhs37 ly 8W oRLEANS. J ]CAFFREY CO. Dealers in Grain, Cornmeal and Hay, 80............ rODR sTRErETr............ 80 Corner of Fulton. jal4 79 ly LOOD, WOLFE & CO.'8 ALE AND PORTER. Tbh undersigned respectfally calls the attention of the public anod tae enerallto the above favoetI brands. Ha on hand a frrs . ýenTp tatesmon, Abboteford oant eda will- oontnun to ieive alternaste shipmeat. which is offered in lots to suit pur chasers being packed in cases of si dowen. b free of breakage. There is no betling hoose in Ameries er thPee brends, and nullne genolne unless having td mark on bottles sad easplse. MARTIN DRUItAN Sole Agent. de31 3m 30 Commerce at, bet. Lafayette and Sired. JOHN G. RYANN, WHlOLESALE LIQUOR D DEALER AND RECTIFIER 01 SPIRITS. Sole Agent for and keese coustetly on hand the Ceh brated OLD RYE WRISK IE S, fIomthe well-known Bonded Warehouse of DVID oIL TINAN, cerner of Front and Dock streets, PhlladephiTb which I witRll sl st the :d}WLST? MARKET RATES. Thankful for the Itberal petronge heretofore bestowed upon me. I hope for a eontinuane t the arme. at my old sanm, No. 2 TCHOUPXTOULAB FTHEET where I will do my utmost to give eneral satisfator 1those who may favor me with ther orderas Please call and examine for yourselve. eo90 Sm JOEN HREBDERSON, Wholesale Liquor Dealer and Rectifier, NO. 85 TCHOUPITOULAS STREET, And 72, 74 and 76 Lafayette Strret, Now Orleans, La PURE BOURBON and RYE WITSKY always on hansd, direct from MoGibbon 4 Bro.'s celebrsted Diu tllery. Uynthisna, Ky. - Also, Agent lor the Celebrsted BRAZILIAN EERI BITTERKsoand RECTIFYING CHARCOAL. aplO ly JOB PRINTINO OFFiOE, Bindery and Blank Book Mannfactory, Cornes Camp sad Peydree etreeet, New Ortmos 0 ly REIINT TURPI.N, Pnpsem _