A TAIN A, NRF Fe “SNe Vol. AV. LONDON HOUSE! 04, ave. (G4. te the Commopors and Unptne trom LIVERPOOL, Lorves from LONDON, a Davike from BARBADOES, Seven i} * eaves ¥ and steamer CoMMEKRCE from BUSTON e snbes rs have « ‘ ¢ t “ . a uv t e | AND BOUGHT ON THE BEST TERMS! a. : xt ele low W l . ] S bates On \ SU Ce \ wt, Ni M | 4 ‘ i} G I 7 a d i* we \\ TEA P Ss My ' a | ‘ re leis i Shirts, Bays CP tietng, ind DBegwing, (sta * e and La burgs, Canvas, Cal w ‘ Coats ind coer KC. ke Capes ] bale Blankets, f lLaxties’ DPoots & 7 bales Paper Han zimgs Silerwa. 6 de Cotton Warp, 4de Rubber Beota & Ido Printed, Un 2 : biene hed , and Silks a Ribbons White ¢ ‘ } ] at N nN S ! ) t 2 d Butt Robes 2 do Wra ; j Hi} Pu ‘ s vis & Ma lis } ne * } ‘ Torn Paints - ‘ sides S La er i , . & M se Guns ‘ td C t ( I EP War ‘ re L 4 es » Indigo Powne s HATS tons assorted Fron & CAPS > bdl« Spring, ¢ | t Hata ] Mee Ladies HATS a s Plony ] BONNETS i s Nails & ‘ 5 ries , VF ery Cca<s Baking Soda, Whiting, Putty, Wash- g¢ Seda; Barrels Crushed Sugai, Currants, Jamaica Ginger, Porter and Ale, J. psom Salts: Kegs Powder, Cudbar, Mustard Jioxes London Soap, Fobacce, Stare Rai- sins, Extract Legwood, Lozenges, Class, Pepper; Bags Rice, Coffee, Allspice, leaks, Coils Mauiila Repe, Dozens Brooms and Pails, &c. G. & 8 DAVIES. Charlottetewr, Oct. 31, 1864. ‘DELANY & BYRNE A RE offering the following ry Goods at Very Low Prices: Gents’ Hair Otter, Plucked Otter, . ; and other superior quality 793 GAPS. | CANADIAN MOCCASSINS,| Seal Over Boots, | LADIES’ FURS. Woollen Hoods, Breakfast Shawls, Skeleton Skirts, fi Lot of Ladies’ Sontags AT Cost. MOUSE, Der: 1264 oY alu’ { FREW tetown. 1% SUMMERSIDE. is64 Rew Goods. ISG4 J { { md W. W. Low, feom LIVER POOL —Cot.l TH, ARGONAUT, J's \aL, { av, M gc averann, and Steamer rence from UNITED STATES teowy ev E Subseriber has received a large and | we'i-selected STOCK OF GOODS, by the above named vessels Direct from the Manufacturers in Eng- land. and from first Houses in the United States, t sell at his Store, SUMMERSIDE, os credit, cousieting, itt px Coburyge. Lustres, Alpacas, Delaines, Lawas, pr Mua i, Ging ws, Zeriffa Checks he pps ri firey and W Cottons, Striped Sbirtings, Dive ‘ carie rh wit snd fancy i ‘ I Manties, Shawls, Bonnets, Hats, k : Plowers, Ca Frouts, Parasols, Uw is tiloves, Hoisery, Hair Nets; a large aes t e CLOTHING in Coats, Jackets, Pants Vests, Plant ; Cotton Shirts, Paper and Line Shirt C rs, Neckties and Handket fs, Scarfs india Rabber and Cotton races: Black a Fanev Dioeskina, Bine and Black Broadcloths, ‘| weeds, ( ‘essimeres Siock nett, Russell Cord, Lineu domestic, Jean, Velvete. Canada baygwing, Qenaburge. Duck. «arpeting, Blankets, Counterpanes, Sheets, Verona, Serve, Oil Clothes, Ladies’ Collars. Handkerchiefs, Meskties Siasy sand Corsets, Carpe t bage. Wiiite and Kilue Cotton Warp, Tailor’s Trianmings, Ladies’ Jiress Trimmings 10 EARTHENWARE! Fok SALE by the Subseribers ~ 10 CRATES of the above G. ge S&S. DAVIRS. 2 1865 MOLASSES! wee SALE by the Subseribers — 33 ] J nnary uncheous Retailing MOLASSES oa G. & 8S. DAVIES, MOLASSES, _ e) © PUNS. Retailing MOLASSES av OU Duns. Demerara DO, j . For sale by Dee 26. J. S. CARVELL. SUGAR, HUDS. BRIGHT SUGAR, For sale by 26. J 10 Dee . S. CARVE 4 RAISINS, 3OXES choice RAISINS, For sale by 26. J. 8. CARVELL. FLOUR! FLOUR! BBLS. Baker’s FLOUR, — aa ‘ 25 Dee. 206 5U Bbls. Pastry 1) 211) Bbls. Extra DO 5UU Bbis. Superior and Fair, For sale by Dec. 26. J. S. CARVELL. OAL TAR, COAL TAR, 50 ao For sale by Dec. 26. J. S. CARVELL. FAIRBAKKS’ SCALES. TENE subseriber has in stock and for sale, a full assortment of FAIRBANKS’ STANDARD SCALES, Consisting ol— Platforms, Unions, Counters, Greeer, and i iiven Balanees. Dee. 26. J BUCKETS & BROOMS, s. CARVELL, Seent. e r 25 Four sale b z Dee. 26. J. & CARVELL.. KEROSENE. CASKS best KEROSENE OIL, Fur eale by Dee. 26. J. 8. CARY ELL... SOLE LEATHER. SIDES heavy New York SOLE LEATUER, For sale by J. S. CARVELL. SOAP and CANDLES. Boxes P. Y. SOAP, 100 Boxes common Soap, 100 200 Dee. 26. 100 da CANDLES, For sale by Dee. 26. tf ws. 6. CABRVELAz PP WW Ih WD I Oo OM O&O Ret wos Sf 8 Oo Oo Y a TAKEN IN EVERY STYLE, > ->ar 71 Lie As aTr S : AT THE CHEAPEST RATES. : : GEORGE P. TANTON. 2 = Janua [St & MEARE MOUSE, Thomas’s Old Stand, GREAT GEORGE STREET. AVING COMPLETED our E Importations for the Season, we desire to call public attention to our Stock, consisting of — SHAPLE AD FANCY DRY GOODS, Hardware, Groceries, Boots and Shoes, Rubbers, LADIES’ FURS, SKELETONS, LiATS and CAPS, SIU ON ATP sR PwRAIe HATS AND CAPS, BOOTS AND SHOES. wis L5 SS ALD 23028 ws oo tush Metals, Cat and Wroaght Xuile, Pit,’ And a variety of other Goods. ross-cat, Hand, and Tenon Saws; indow Glass, i ; ie Harty, Blister and Cast Steel, Pots, Pans, and spare| Al] of which we are offering at Covers, Sad Irons, tinnpowder and 5 . shot ‘ ‘ ss Hays, Powder #laske, Gun Caps, Percussion Gane, Prices that, we think, Fishing Keds, Trout and Cod Hooks ; Hoes, Suovels, ‘ aan ’ . Syuict Gratin Spthes, xevhe over ae ters | CANNOT FAIL ~ baa hope, ry iw wie, Cer ons a“ laryve ucsortment of binges and Screws, Plough sive satisfactio yurchasers. rene tien Hornses’ Halter Chales, Maina |*2 6 VC satisfaction to purchasers ititts, back bands, Watering Chains, Rings, hackles DELANY & BYRNE. wa See Seer Se oe a an ‘on, ie Charlottetown, 19th December, 1864 every description Steel yards, oor uc best, i sinscbilliceadaiealiieam sensiionaagliiiiiia Cupboard and Cheat Locks Carpenter’: Rules, ‘ i i Kataree, Handeaw Sete, Latches, towing and Peru. | OFRRECS, Lemons, v Awle. Shoe and Stove Blacking, Bed Screws, 5 ~ ‘ per N a hep dow eerun oa pay.aet gare | Apples, Onions. Slide Mevila. Gusctthient, duck und? iting tana, UST RECEIVED, per steamers Commerce ~ Be ts Giwhlets, Firmer and Socket Clhisells, and FRANCONIA pi nad Enalich’ mate’ Horse Neils, ‘Coil Chaiy, |3 Bbls. Oranges, 2 Boxes Lemons, fuiut Brushes, Ssh Tools, Whitewash ai ise raly 75 Bbls. APPLES, Baldwin & Russet Brushes, Hair Brooms, Horse and Shoe , 33 es, Sheep Shears, Preserving Kettl-s, Fine Teoh and Dressing Comba Shoe Knives.St-¢l Pena, ‘lable Kuives and Forke, Carvers, Pocket Knives, fesle and Tea Spoons, Salt and Mustard Spoons, Liazors and Straps, Teeth aud Alaving Lrushes, d‘voking Glaases, Sheaths and Belts for suilors’ kives, Chalk Lines, Shoe Thread, White and Yellow Closing Flax, Seissers, Violen Strings com- rlete Kuives, Needles, Carpenters’ , uts Ovater Sail Mill Pit Cro«s-ent lvand and Tenon Saw Files,Wood diusps, best Boot Web, Whips and Whip Thongs, Slates and Pencils, Cleneh Kings. Spikes, Weavers’ Kieed’s Paints, Oil«, Red and Yellow Ochre, Kine, (ilue, Borax, Washing and Baking Seda, Cudbeuar, Extract of Lowwood, Alum, Log and Red Wood, A alles Indio, Olive aud Castor Oil, Epe m Salta, Bena, Seidlitz Powders, Sulphur and Brimstone, Pimenta, Resin, Raistna and Corrants, assorted Candy and Lozenges, Cloves, Nutmege, Lemon Syrop, Waluats, Filberts, Almonds, Dried Apples, Ginger, Pepper, Mustard, Vinegar, Su:ff, Salt petre, Candies. Soap, Tea, Tobacco, Cheene, Crack- er, Pilot bread, Ginger Snaps. Seed Cake, Matches, f‘loeks, Pitch, Tar, Oakaum, Roond and Flat Tron, Tables, Chairs, Bedsteds, Washstands, Rockiny Cheirs, Set Cradles, Sole Leather, Bibles, Testaments, Catechiama, Prayer and other Booke, Stationery, Buckets, Brooms, Huy Rakes. Seythe Sneaths, American Broad and Narrow Axes, Adzes, Jiatchets, Wool Curds, Hoop Skirts, Cane for Jioepe, &e. &e. lees, —— AE St 1500 Barrels SUPERFINE FLOUR; and hour- ly expected 500 barrela EXTRA FLOUR: 100 riety of other GOODS. barrela CORN MEAL, together with a great va- | i Le? The highest price always paid in Cash for OATS, EGGS, WOOL and SHEEP SKINS. JOHN ANDREW MeDONALD. Summerside, June 27, 1564. TO CARRIAGE MAKERS! IRON, STEEL. AXLES, BOLTS & NUTS: to be haul very cheap for Cash W. E. DAWSON’S. December 5, 1364, fl Judson’s Pills! — Trays and Waiters, Saneepane, Hore Raspes. } uo Bbls. ONIONS. —— ALSO —— | 100 bbls. Extra Superiine FAMILY FLOUR, 90 Boils. CRACKERS, Wine, butter aud Seda. 20 Bbis. CRUSHED SUGAR, poxes JORDAN ALMONDas, Il ilberts, Castana and Walnuts, 2900 Boxes LOZENGES, Boxes COP FEE, Saleratus and Shoe Blacking, 5 Cases MATCHES, 20 Doz. BROOMS, 20 Dozen BUCKETS, 50 Boxes SALT, 4 Casks Keras-ne OIL, 20 Boxes CANDLES, Tea, Brown Suger, Molasses, Mustard, Pepper, Creaw Tartar, Licorice, and a lot of uther articles iu the Grocery Trade. Artso—The largest assortment of CONFECTIONARY in the Island. Which will be sold Cheaper than’ it can be imported, consisting of all kinds of LOZENGES, MIXED CONFECTIONARY, Ju Jubes, Gum Drops, Clear Toys, Kisses, Ab monds, Conversation Lozenges, Lumps, Sticks, } Cough Candy, and a large assortment of other kinds too numerous to name. Pulverized Sugar, for Icing Cake; Wedding Cake made to order. [2A great variety of CAKE ORNAMENTS. Ail will be suld cheap for Cash. ALEX. McKENZIE. Water Street, Dee. 19, It'd —1 W M 7in BOOTS & SHOES. JUST RECEIVED PER STEAMER FRANCONIA, 500 Pairs Ladies’, Gents’, Boys’, Misses’ and Children's BOOTS and SHOES, IN GREAT VARIETY, whieh may be had very Curar from the subscriber. | H. HASZARD. ' QOharlottetown, August 22, 1864. isl = DUZ. BUCKETS, 25 Doz. BROOMS, jand practically, [ gave him the office. i ' Make, | shall FRUIT DRGPS, | A Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, Monday, February 6, 1865. LITERATURE. LL LOLOL hl, eT Oh! the snow, the beautiful snew, Filling the sky and earth below ; Over the honse-tops, over the street, Over the heads of the peeple you weet, Dancing, Flirting, Skimming along; Beautiful Snow! it can do no wrong ; Flying to kiss a fuir lady’s cheek, Clinging to lips in a frolicksome freak, Beautiful snow, from the heaven above, Pure as an angel, gentle as love! Oh! the snow, the beautiful snow, How the tlakes gather and laugh as they go! Whirling about iv: its maddening fun, it plays in its glee with every one; Chasing, Laughing, Hurrving by It lights on the fuce, and it sparkles the eve! And even the dogs, with a bark and a bound r | Snap at the crystals that eddy around ; The town is alive, and its heart in 2 sow, lo welcome the coming of beautiful snow! How wild the crowd goes swaving alone Hailing each other with humor and song! low the gay sledyes, like meteors flash by, R it f a | Drigiut for e momen, t it 10 the ew Ringing Swingin Das!) vr ey go Over the erus he beautiful snow Suow so pure when it falls from the ske. I trampled in 1 1 by the «rewal passing by, lo be trampled or tracked | y the thousands of feet, Vill it blends with the filth in the horrible street. +=>- BE DONE, if men were wise, WHAT MIGHT What might be done, What glorions de eds, my sulle ring brother, Would they unite In love and right, And cease their scorn of one another? Oppression’s heart might be imbued With purest drops of lov ng kindvess, And knowiedye preone From shore to shore, Light ou the eyes of mental blindness. All slave warfare 3 vrongs— All y uric «lit die together! And fruit and corn 1 yeach n n bora B f +! } x ireé as Warhitii ln summer weather The meanest wretch that ever trod, Phe deepest sunk in guilt and sorrow, Might stand ereet | room enough to dress and lounge. ‘warm, sultry evening, and I left the old In self respect, And share the teeming world to-morrow. What mil t be done? This mig} t be done, Aud mere thau this, my suffering brother; More than the tongue i Ker said and snag, If men were wise, and loved each other. THE SILENT MATE. PROM THE LCG-BOCK OF | AN CLD sHIPMASTER Some years ago [ had command of a ship engaged in the Kast India trade. My first efiicer, or mate, was named Luke Marshall. tie had shipped with me at Liverpool to run to Cacutta, baton the passage out my mate died, and baving found Marshall a most excellent seaman, both theoretically He readily accepted it, but I could plainly see that he did it more from a desire to please me, than because he aspired to the post. | ' ‘ © > ot - | was not deceived in his capability, for he soon proved himself the most eflicient off ser { ever had. gear, and made more speed by oue sixth, certainly, than L ever had. He was pune tual to a minute in his reckoning — could tell to a certainty what time he should When we were near our Gestina- tion, he came to me one evening and told fie altered the ship's sailing me that if the wind held fair we should see Kdmonstone’s Island at half-past six on the following morning; and at twenty-eight minutes past six in the morning, the louk- out reported land two poiuts on the siar- board bow. _ Marshall was one of the most civil and gentlemanly men I ever saw, and bis man- uers shewed that he had been well educated, boib mentally and socially. Yet there was one thing that troubled me not a little—or rather, | should say, puzz'ed me—though L must confess I did allow myself at times to feel somewhat truubled. My mate was the most silent man, for one who commanded the free use of language, that [ ever met with. matters pertaining to his duty, and then only in as few words as possible. I often tried to draw him into conversation, but without avail. I tried to Jearn something of his former history, but could not. I knew he was an American, and that was all. One evening, afier we had entered the Hoogly, aud while our ship lay at D'amond Point, 1 was sitting in my cabin, and Mar- was alone with me. would not take a drop. I bad never seen him take wine at any time, but he had often refused. He took the bottle and poured some of the wine out into a glass, and then \he held the glass up between his eye and the lamp. His face turned pale as death, and his lips were tightly compressed. The glass fell from his band upoa the fluor, and was broken into a thousand pieces. ‘Mr. Marshall, are you well ?’ J uttered, Starting up and laying my hand upea his arm, ‘Very well,” he returned, laying my haad | off, and looking up with a faint smile. ‘You will excuse me, captain, "twas an aceident.’ ‘That's nothing,’ said I, alluding to the glass ; ‘ take another—here.’ * No, no,’ he quickly uttered, putting the glass away. ‘ | do not drink wine, sir.’ * You have signed a teetotal pledge, per- baps,’ said [, carelessly. ‘ Sigeed @ teetotal pledze?’ he repeated, ina tone so strange that it fairly made me start. ‘ No, sir, | have not.’ ‘Then why not take a glass of wise on such a night as this 2’ Marshall Jooked at we as thouzh he would look me through. ‘There was a strange spark in his eye, and I could see that his cheeks grew pale again. Ilis hand trembled, and he placed it i bia lap out of my sight. At length be epoke, and bis voice was very low and deep, ‘Captain,’ said he, ‘in that wiae there lurks a demon as deadly as the twin bro- thers of Night. You may escape him and yet embrace. [ will not drink it.’ * Bat you have ‘Stop!’ he whispered, cutting me short, and raising his finger. ‘Never finish that ‘subject again.’ And with that he broke | off upon another topic, and began to lay out | the business of the morrow. ‘The lighters will come down from the me as supercargo in one of his ships. [t was| city early in the morning,’ he said, ‘ and as 'L must be up to attend to them, [ will retire now.’ | [ fairly ached to qnestion my mate fur. ther on this strange conduct, but his look forbade me, He threw off his outer gar- men's and retired to his state-room, and I was left alone with my wine. [ looked at the bottle, and then I looked at the frag. | ments of glass upon the foor—and I won- dered what it was that dwelt upon my mate’s mind, for well | knew there was something. When [ arose to go on deck jand set the watch, I hoped that some day | Marshall might lect me into his seerct, for I ‘had become deeply interested in him. I |had learned to love him for his gentleness ‘and mildness, and I hoped to know more of jhim. It may have been a faint hope, but yet | cherished it. | Our business was all transacted at Val- eutta, and L had partly made arrangements for a full cargo of hides, when I received an overland despatch from my owners to pro- ceed at once to Ilong Kong, and take ia a cargo which an agent would have ready there. Soto Hong Kong we went. One day after we had taken part of our cargo on board, and were waiting for more | is no wonder that I follow- —— ae | wine-cup, and it ed his example. ment which it produced. for all my friends were in the same habit. When I was yet a mere lad, my father sent at my urgent request, and I learnd to love the roving, free life of the ocean. But Weekly Aournal of Politics, Literature, and Mews. ‘This is true Liberty, when Freeborn Men, havyipe to advise the Public, may speak free.**---Euripides. | At length I was sorry to lose my mate, but { knew that others bad a prior claim on him, and I gave him up. Some years afterwards I was in New York ‘whither I had gone with a cargo of manufac- tured iron. Ieasily found the residence of LL my mate recovered, and his fa- ler’? became a household I first learned to love the , ther accompanied us to Liverpool. I often Butler became terms no less synonymous.— “<THE BEAUTIFUL SNOW.?’? sentence in my presence, nor allude to the wine, and then I came to love the excite- %®¥ them weep together, bnt it was only the The I saw no danger, | e™ory of the past that called ap their tears. bales’ deposited in the Cresent City, made Q 9 New Series.---No. 10. Pe word. Cotton and initiatory pounce upon the * snowy | by the virtuous satrap ‘‘for the benefit of the government,” saved beth the government and homest northern merchante a world of trouble. | [t was quietly remarked by certain valgar people that ** ‘Picayune Butler’ knew cotton | picking of old, aud that when Butler's hand when I reached the age of eighteen, L was Joshua Foster, and there I found my old| 8S in, it was mo use for anybody else to sent to college; [ remained there one year, mate, a6 happy 2s man ean well be on earth. | *ry- and then I was expelled for intemperance. My mate stopped here and bowed his head upon his hand, and I eould see the tears trickling down his fingers. ‘QO,’ he resumed, in a tremulous voiee, His father etill lived, hale and hearty, and his mother was a patern of maternal love and generous hospitality. Luke was married, too, } and had two children. | My visit was one of the most pleasant and joyous seasons that have ever blessed my The pleasant fiction that General Butler | was the ‘conqueror of New Oleans’’ en- | couraged the conqueror, in his report of his operations before and at the city, May 16, | 1862, to make what, in the light of later levents, appears the somewhat amusing de- (‘ what @ fool I was. I returned to my home, long life, and when { came away they hung |¢ @-ation that he could take Mobile when he and my father upbraided me for my con-/ upon me as though I was the author of all Chose; but that **it was better to wait.’ | duct, High words arose between us, but /my mother came in and quieted the storm. | After this, 1 remained at home for some ‘time. At length L became acquainted with a girl whom I thought virtuous and well ‘connected, and [ made proposals of mar- riage toher. She, it seems, gave publicity ito the fact, and it came to my mother’s jears. She made inquiries about the girl, and she ascertained that her character was | not wood, quict way, I should never have seen the girl again, for all my plans were just and honorable, and [ was deceived in the charac- ter of the one [ thought I loved. But my |mother told my father, and he was to speak | with me, * Oue evening I came home—it was near Had she told me this in her own | ‘to come from the English factories at Can-| miduight—and [ had been indu’ging freely their joy. And perhaps [ was, for I could remember the time when I struek aside the shaft of death from my silent mate, and but | for that simple movement on my part, this | happiness could never have beer. - es ae am — LULLER. eBuT, sANvARY 5, 1865. Tt would be ridiculous to gay of Butler that he is, simply, dead. Like some heap ef offal flang from out a window in the night—an odorous warning to | the feet and nostrils of pedestrians at dawn | —this creature named a general by power, and called the Beast by lips too dainty to be | wholly just, lies worse than dead. Dead, even a Butler might be entitled to | human charity. But that rale of fair play, which forbids us to strike aman who is) down, does not apply to Butler living. So | While waiting, he one day marked the he- | mane and conciliatory habits of a conqueror by issuing a ;roclamation te the peuple of |New Orleans, in whieh he playfally de- nounced them as@ whieky drinking mob ef |Tunaway property-owners, idlers, gamblere, | thieves and ruffians. The arrest and confine- /ment of the mayor and aldermen for yentur- ing to offer the hospitalities of the city to the offcereof the French steamer Catinet wae another gentle exhibition of fatherly tender- |ness and care. | Tuis and numerous similar manifestations /were 80 far from geining the affections of Butler's temporary subjects as to lead te those slights towards Union officers by the | women of the city which gave Butler his ex- |treme transcendent opportunity. | ‘The famous ** woman order’’ was the result. So vivid and rankling is the recollection of | this order and its effect, not enly in the South, but among respeetable people in the North |step he went below. He searcely ever spoke, save on| I pushed the! | wine bottle over to him, and asked him if he ton, an old man came off to the ship with a letter from the Knglish agent. I read the few lines, and they simply asked that 1 | would take the bearer to England. My mate ' was not on board, or [ should have consulted him; but the old man was very re-pectable in appearance, and I at once told hom that he should go with me. ‘There were three spare state-rooms, and I immediately gave him one of them. He bad his luggage brought up from the boat and placed in his ‘room. He was certainly seventy years of jage, and his hair was white as snow. I couversed with hig a long while, and I found him one of the most intelligent men with whom 1 ever met. At about nine o'clock in the evening he seemed fatizued, and expressed h’s desire to retire. So | shewed him to his state-room, and bade him |good night. These state-rooms were smal! ‘upartments leaJing out from the cabin, and ouly large enough for a good siz-d single bunk and a wash-stand, and with spare It was a man’s door partly open at his request. His name, as given in the letter, and marked upon his trunk, was Joshua foster. At ten o’clock my mate came of. I met him on deck, and by the light of the gang. | way lantren [ could see that he was pale He answered me only in, and agitated, monosyllables, and with a quick, uneven down [ went about the ship and gave direc- tions for keeping an ** anchor-watch,” and having poste] a sentinel, 1 turned towards | the cabin. On my way I passed along the larboard side of the deck, and as L reached the grated sky-light which was tuilt up over the cabin I stopped. What induced me so to do J cannot tell, but [ stopped and looked down, and I saw Marshall sitting at the table pouring wine out into a glass This surprised me, but the next movement -urprised me more. He filled the glass about half tull, and then he took a small phil | from his pocket, and having removed the stopper, he poured its contents into the wine. pale as death. A fearful suspicion flashed across my mind, and quick as thought [ darted down into the cabin. My mate was just raising the glass to his lips. With one movement I sprang forward and dashed the glass trom his hands, and as it was shivered in pieces upon the floor, he sprang to his feet. He caught me fiercely by the ‘arm, but when he caught my keen, stead ‘eye, he dropped bis band and sank back in his ehair, ‘What do you mean?’ I sternly asked. Marshall bowed his head and made no reply. I saw the phial upon the table, and took it up and placed it to my nose, and | there came up from it the strong and pun- yent odor of prussic accid! I sat ‘and gazed Marshall in the face. I laid my ‘hand gently upon his arm, and érew him down by my side, and with as much kind- ness of tone as 1 cou!d command, | said: ‘ Jawske Marshall, [ am your friend. I love you as I never loved a man out of my kin before. Now tell me what this means ?’ * No, no, captain,’ he replied. you wouldn’t ask me. I mustdie. I can- | not live longer. Lf you ean find some com- | petent man to take my place, do so, for my , services for man are at an end. You have stayed my band now, but you cannot again. A pistol, or my razor will do for me.’ | | moved nearer to my mate and placed my arm about his neck. ‘Tell me,’ I urged, ‘what does this mean ? Confide in me and | promise that _L will never betray you.’ Marshall seemed much moved by my ‘manner, for he trembled, and the tears jcame to his eyes. At length he said in a | subdued tone : | You have been kiud to me, and I have (a mind to tell you the story of my life. 'You wiil wever speak it to another, and | neyer——" | * What?’ said Z, as he hesitated. | Never lay your hands upou me again, ‘let me be doing what i may.’ ‘In that 1 must be governed by my own judgment,’ [ replied. ‘ But tell me your story, and then f can the better judge.’ A few moments my mate bowed his head in silence. When he looked up there was a strange shade of melancholy upon his ‘features, and his eyes were moist. ‘It will be a short story,’ be said, a very short one.’ And. after a moment's thought, he resumed: ‘1 was born in the city of |New York. My father was a very wealthy merchant, and of course [ was rared in the lap of luxury, never expressed a want that was not complied with, and both my parents did their utmost to please and make me happy. My father Was a man of a qu ck, passionate temper, and | had a temper as fiery as bis own.’ *You had a fiery temper?’ I queried, dubiously. ‘ Why you are the mildest man [ ever caw.’ Marshal! smiled faintly, and with a shuke of the head, he continued : _ * did have a bad temper. Bat let that jpass now. My father indulged freely at the Alter he had gone| j }trate form, but there was no motion—no I cou'd see his face, and it was) down | ‘] wish } in wine, and my father had been doing the} | same. He had been to a club-meeting, aunt bis face was flushed and his step unsteady. | that was the first and only time t bad ever seen him so much influenced by wine: When ,L entered the sitting-room he asked me /where [ had been, aad I told him to the ‘theatre. He next asked me whom [ ear- iried, and [ told him. It was the young lady of whom I have just speken. He then told me that L must see the girl no more. { resented the command, and thereupon he | threatened to turn me out of doors if [ dis- obeyed him. He then cast upon the girl in | question the most opprobrious epithets, and | 'was stung tothe quick. I answered him hastily, and he threatened me. I did not stop to consider that he was under the influ- ence of wine, for | was too far in its power myself for that. L accused him of tratmp.- ling upon me—and he taunted me with bringing shame upon bis household. This maddened me and [ spoke very quickly and thoughtlessly. What L said was severe, and upon my father it struck like a shaft of lightning, and he struck me with his cane. AslI received that blow my blood boiled like molten lava. I was blind—crazy. My father lifted his cane again, and I seized a chair that stood near me. I lifted it with both my hands, and with all my maniac might I burled it upon his head. He sank upon the earpet like a rag. In an instant { was sober. I kneeled down over that pros- breath. Presently there came a convulsive movement of the muscles, but it quickly passed away, and then he lay motionless as the chair that lay broken by his side. I spcke to him, but he did notanswer. [ lift- ed him to @ sofo and chafed his temples, but nota sign of life did [ discover. [ knew thet L had killed my father, and I sank down upon my knees and wept and prayed. * Soon I was aroused by a step behind me, and on looking up L saw my mother. She asked what was the matter, but I could not answer. Sbe stooped over the motionless body of her husband, and [ remember that the word ‘dead’ broke from her lips, and then she sank fainting upon the couch. (started up and gaz-d about me. Once more | felt my father’s pulse, but it did not move. His"eyes were half open, and they were lossy and dim. started back and seized my hat. 1 was a murderer—the murderer of my own father. _A dim spectre arose before me—a gallows jin shape! and I fled from the house. I) ‘made my way to Philadelphia, and from) thence to Charleston, and there 1 took pas-| ‘sage to England. 1 have not seen my na- itive land since. While in Philadelphia, [ took up a morning paper from New York, and there I read that my father had died of jappoplexy. My mother hid my crime.’ | Marshall stopped and bowed his head again. Ile did not shed tears now, but his eyes were set and glaring. ‘Ha!’ he uttered, starting suddenly. \* Have we had a listener? | ‘I forgot,’ was my reply, as T recollected the passenger I had taken, and at the same | time cast my eye towards the door of the |state-room where I had placed him, * I have ‘had a passenger come on board.” shall trembling with fear. But before 1 could make any further reply, the door of the state-room was pushed fur- ther open, and the white-haired old man jcame forth. He gazed first upon me and then upon my mate ; and then, with a low, wild murmur, be tottered towards the table. ,fi> sank dowa upon his knees aud laid bis | head upon my mate’s lap. | ‘Luke! Luke! my son—O my son!’ he murmured, a8 be reached up his trembling hands and caught the mate abvut the neck. Luke Marshall, as | had known nim, start- ed to his feet and held the old man off at arm’s length. ‘What are you?’ he gasped, glaring wildly at him. ‘Lam Joshua Foster—I am your father O Luke, my boy, my noble, wrorged boy, | forgive me—O forgive me! I| know [ abused youl know I made you mad, but forget it allnow. Lam your father. I did not die~ you did not kill me, but [ lived and récover- ‘ed. I have sought the whole earth over af- ter you. I have been all up and down the world. Ou! you know me.’ A few moments my mate held that old man off and gazed into his face, and then, | with a sharp ery, he sank back insensible. During all that night Luke raved likea madman, but on the next day he came to his senses, and a severe fever set im. He called for his father when he came to, and 1 saw the eld man bend over him and kiss him and weep, and | saw the young min wind hisarms around thet aged form and cry like a ehild. And so my mate's real name was Lake Fos- ter, and I heard the oki man tell, while he sat by his son’s side, how he bad recovered from the effects of the blow he had received. I'wo whole days after Luke fled did he lay insensible, and the servants reported that he was dead. When he reeovered, he told his wife the whole story ; and, having left his business in competent hands, he set out to search for bis son. lle traced him to Liver- pool, and there he lost him. Eight long years had he been on the search, sometimes going home to comfort bis wife, and then set ting out again on his mission. His wife still lived and she waited fur the return of her sun. | far beneath the noble hate that ceases at the and throughout the civilized world, taat there is but little need to rehearse any part of it. The very marked tendency toward sepulchre, and vanishes in the shadow of mis- | | fortune, is the sentiment which every hon- | orable citizen feels for this embodied disgrace With one low ery [) to American manhood, that it contains *‘nor pity, nor charity, nor the semblance of con- sideration.’’ Hereafter, please [aven, it is not an armed and petted despot with whom the scorn and detestation of the country has to deal. Some one spot surel | exists in the course, hyena nature which has 80 long been suffered to fatten in the com~- try of a nation’s hopes, that, shorn of mili- tary armour, must be sensitive to kicks. The administration bas set the example. With one herculean hoist of his official boot, either Mr. Lnicoln or Secretary Stanton has sent poor Butler careering on his way from For- tress Monroe to Lowell, there to receive, it is devoutly to be hoped, a salute from the collective cowhides of all who rejuice. in the dispensation of political justice. Yet, who shall read the riddle of this wen- derful fall? So faithful a servitor, sv patient a descipie, so advanced an apostle of those creeds and policies which his masters adopted and best loved, had never been known before. From there this sudden les- son that something worse than thrift may follow fawning is hard, indeed, to bear. Were there no more bales of human lives wherewith to keep the waste stack of death that this Demon of the Pitchfork bad already piled so high ? Were there no more women to be pro- claimed harlots, no more rebels in embryo to be starved into loyalty! Was there dearth of manhood to be outraged, common honor to be squinted at? H[ad the dens of northern cities ceased to breed plottings of revolution, that the ‘fee ! faw! fum!’’ of a Blue-Beard seemed no longer necessary to fright the souls of fear- ful electors ? Ilad greenbacks fallen so low, had gold become so high, that Butler and the Treasury Department eeased to agree to the propor- tions of their respeetive shares to each? Ah, yes! andah, no‘ Lives, almost as plentiful as at the first, wait to be spsiled— for nething. Women there are, hundreds of them in the South and North, whom military tyranny can insult, if it chooses— for notiing. Manhood there isto be dis- honored by foul wrong and persecution—for neéthing. Plots, hideous plots, for the de- thronement of Mr. Lincoln and his merry men, are thick as ever all over the North ; and as for greenbacks, the plates at Wash- ington are not yet wornout, and the printers —lleaven save the mark—-grind out their wages with willing sinews. Only it is time that some one else should do the military agency business of the admin- \istration,and take the money. The blunders land the rogueries of one man seem not half so great when made by two or three. It is meet that the servants of Belial shall not be retained too long. ‘From grave to gay, from lively to severe,’ | the career of Butler has been like a mask with two faces—at once a tragedy anda farce. ‘The sensational swagger of a Jawyer did him jexeellent service at the begiauing, as the | sharpness of a lawyer has chiefly served him ‘since. The march through Baltimore, the reign in Maryland, were admirable proofs of | that capacity which understood how to im- | press the fiery temper of the Northern people | with a glow of patriotic buncombe. The |growth of that malign military despotism | which bas since all but destroyed the repub- | lican sense of communities that had learned ‘to value self-government as the chief right | of a tree and independant people, dated from | Butler’s order in April of 1561, informing Governor Hicks, of Maryland, that he had |**in order to maintain the laws of Maryland aud the peace of the United States.”’ Within the shrewd brain of Butler was generated that one gleam of honest logic that convuleed the country, when he declared to the bearer of a flag of truce who demand- 'ed the rendition of three fugitive slaves be- | rebel Colonel Mallory, at, longing to the Hampton, that he considered the slaves “contraband of war,’’ and should retain them for the services of the United States government. {t was Butler, too, who first had the honor of showing at Big Bethel how a lawyer-gene- ral could concoct, and lose, and win a gliar- ing reputation by a battle that lost the country, uselessly, a chain of precious lives, and of which he (Butler) only saw the field next day. Back upon New Eugland, as commander of that newly created military department, Butler descended in the Octuber of the same ‘year, to show to the people of his native state how a pettifogger, made general, min- gles martial with the common law. The in- suferable arreganee which provoked the quarrel with Governor Andrews—which even President Lincoln had sense enough to decide in favor of the fermer—was not a whit abashed by that rebuff. Lis advent in New Orleans was signalized by the initiation ef & tyranny so monstrous, |e insultingly at war with the deciared spirit of a conflict begun simply for the restoration of the Unien, that in its whole course—more, perbaps, than in any ether series of events | which prevailed, or could have prevailed, to agitate the differenee between political par- ties in the North—is seen the swift yawning ‘ef that gulf whieh has since seperated 80 widely the bitterness of abolitionism on the one side, and the obstinacy of conservatism onthe other. The very gall of hatred had previously inspired the New Orleans jour- nals to that satirical explanation of the sod- riguet of ‘Picayune Batler,”’ which declared that Butler had negro blood in bis veins, and that he had formerly kept a barber shop un- der the St. Charles hotel, at which time he was known all over New Orleane by the re- surrected nickname. When the lawyer-chief- ‘tuis finally made his advent, **Picavave But- |returning respect for the Union and Union | military commanders which it produced in the interior of the rebellion, the following | racy exrtacts from the Jackson Mississippian j and other Southern journals show :— | “If the telegraph is true, and we have no | reason to dout it, Butler is doing good servi-e |to our cause. For tho cake of our liborty, we hope he will not tire! Go on, brave Butler, and destroy every vestige of liberty‘ |Geind New Orleans to very powder! Rule the city with a rod of iron! Starve the people, or make them join in your plundering, theving army! Give it no quarter; you will teaeh them to eurrender! It is a ter- vible way you have of teaching, but it eeems /some of our people will learn in no other. You are teaching our people some important ‘truths, which we have in these columns | Striven in vain to impress upen them. Here- ‘after let the motto of the South be: ‘Perish vities! Perish armies! Perish property ! Perish everything! But surrender, Never !”’ | Again :— **Oh, how the blood seethes in our veins 'when we think of the damnable cunduct of Batler in New Orleans! Is there a mae im j that unfortunate city who does not now weep | bitter tears of agony that the city was not laid in dust and ashes rather than sarren- dered? If there be, he is a dastard and an outeast from his race. {f the people of | Vicksburg and Richmond, after this manifes- a of Yankee heinousness, do not feel @ } new joy in their resolve, and a new econfir- /mation of their purpose never to surrender their fair cities to the foe, they are as base as Butler himself. If there is a city in our |land that shall not hereafter receive with |horror @ proposition to make terms with our faithless, low, despicable enemy, that icity will be forever disgraced. We must fight to the death, and to the last extromity, everywhere and always !"’ | _ The arrest of Pierre Soule was a proof of the noble sacrifice of personal feeling to na~ |tional interest which was cited as one of Butler's peculiar attributes at that period. A correspondent of the Providence Post was, | however, ungracious enough to relate an | anecdote concerning the relasion between the |two men who dispelled this theory. This , correspondent remaks that at the Charleston Convention of 1860, Ben. F. Butler and Pierre Soule, appeared as delegates to the Convention. Butler was elected as a firm ‘friend of Douglas. Lle proved treacherous (to him (Douglas) and tried to break up the convention by opposing Dougias and support- ing Breckinridge. Ie was a co-worker with Yancey. Le went back to Massachusetts to stump his state for Breckinridge. Soule | was one of the delegates from New Orleans. _He made a brilliant Union speech, and in favour of Douglas. He exposed the rotten- ness of th» Breckinridge party and the dis- /union tendencies of its supporters. He was | very severe on butler, and was hated for it 'by Butler; Soule and Latler went home. Then came secession. Soule resisted it to ,the last. Butler next entered the city as a ‘conqueror. By aad by, Soule is arrested ‘and banished into exile. Butler did not | forget bis hatred. | That delightful propensity for ‘ calling /mames’’ whieh the ‘modern Bratus’’ poss- essed, in common with Billingagate hags and sehoul-boys, exereised itself not a one upon the rebel community of New Orleans. Oa | oe 10th of June he issued another procla- mation, denouncing the foreigners of the city , 48 @ traitorous crew, refusing to allow them to transact business unless they took the * You ought to bave told me,’ said Mar- taken possession of Annapolis, the capital, oath of allegiance. This proceeding, toge- | ther with the prescription of an oath to de- fend and support the Constitution of the | United States, to all the foreign consuls in | New Orleans, was calculated to, and of course did, create the diweliest good feeling at all foreign courts. Butler's affection for and appreciation of the qualities of the negro had not at this ‘time blossomed into that large and unre- strained expression made in laterdays. The darkey found in the streets atter dark was ordered to be publicly whipped. Five com- panies of negro soldiers, organized indepen- dently by General Phelps, were not a wel- come offering to Butler at that time. Me /tefused to sanction the proceeding, where- upon Gen. I’helps tendered his re-ignation. | Butler, while refusing to accept it, still de- clared the negro unfit to be a soldier. His denial of his own doctrine was made only « few days afterwards in his organization of the First Louisiana Colored Regiment. | The edmirable system of protection with which Butler hus always insured the con- tinuance of his mortal career is illustrated by an incident which throws a halo of medizeyad /romance about his rather swinish form.— While traversing a plank from the wharf to the deck of a ship about to leave New Or- leens, he slipped and fell, “making a noise,” so the chronicler relates, ‘‘like the fall of a tin kettle.”’ When he arose it was discover- ed that he wore a complete suit of mail, co- vering his whole body. But the reign of Butler in New Orleans is a history. Full of tyranny and raseality, its recorded incidents ere but a tithe of the un- recorded wrongs and meanness that made the presence aud the name of Butler a stench in the noses of all who saw and heard. He ‘came out of New Orleans as he has come out of every position in which he has been placed 'sinee the war began, not because he could be of better service elsewhere, but because it beeame too hot to hold him. Ue made the eity mad with the same kind of madness that one forced to sit calm in the midst of excite- ment, or still through a long and canti sermon, feels impelling him to leap up an ery oit and catch a preacher or some one in the crowd by the throat. Whatever senti- ment wight bave been aroused by a frank leg ee ae a