emer. ae ane REE Oe ee ——-_e New Series. PusTal. ~~ — ee mma ee TEARS. BY CHARLES MACKAY. Oh ye tears! O ye tears! that have long refused to flow. = Ye are welcome to my heart, thawing, rT thawing, like the snow; I feel the hard clods soften, and the early snow drops spring. And the healing fountains gush, and the wildernesses sing. © years! © ye tears! Lam thankful that ye run, ye trickle inthe darkness, ye shall ghisten’in the sun. The rainbow cannot shine, if the drops » oo) oarefuse'to fall, — Ani the eyes that cannot weep are the 19 guddest eyes of all. 0 ye tears! O ye tears! till I felt. ye on m : “ J was selfish in my sorrows [ was stub- born, Lwas weak.* © Ye have giv’n me strength to conquer,and , I stand erect and free, ; And I know that Lam human by the light of sympathy. O ye tears! O ye tears! ye relieve me of my ‘pain, The barren rock. of Pride has been stricken once again: Like the rock that Moses smote amid Horeb’s burning sand, {t yields the flowing water, to make glad- ' ness in the land. Theta is light upon my path! There is sunshine in my heart! And the leafand fruit of life shall not ut- terly depart. Ye restore me to the freshness and the bloom of long ago— Ye tears! ye happy tears! Tam thankful taat ye flow! eS ~gsaa..any, ‘ . a si ee THE MOUNTAIN OF THE TWO : LOVERS. BY LEIGH HUNT. We forget in what book it was many te ago, that we read the history of a out he was to carry his mistress to the top of a mountain and how he did win her. . . ‘ MWe think the scene was in Switzerland, but the mountain, though high enough to tax Hiis’stout heart to the uttermost, must have been among oie Let us ney it 4 good lofty hill in summer time. reed, at Hate, 80 high thatthe father of the lady, proud nobleman, thorght it impossible for a young man,so burdened, to acale it. ’For this reason alone, in storm, he bade him to do it, ‘and his dunghter should be his. uo ‘Tie intty assembled in the valley to witness 80 Extraordinary a sight. They measured the mountain with their eyes — ‘commtined with one another, and aunt their ‘heads; but all admired the ‘ani and some of his fellows, Yoox we diet misstresses, thought they could do as much. The father was on horseback, apart and sullen, repenting that he had subjected his daughter even to the shadow of such a hazard ; but he thought “it would teach his inferiors a” » "Phe young man, (the son of a small landed proprietor who had some , oh none of no- jone to wealth; thoug ee wae bility.) stood, respectfully oan sn rej icing in, his park, that se should win, hie nilstress, though at the afd —_,> ote, = Ghe- “PHIS IS TRUE LIBERTY WHEN” FREE-BORN MEN—H ne ee tt at CLL A ty ae tt ae en nee nets i | }cost. of a noble: pain, which he :should farms and have looked: her in the face. | To clasp her person in that manner was,a) chow dispensing with formality enables and makes grateful, the respect. Pa Cx : “2 17% aa - ad miner. se ' CHARL r hardly think of as @ pain, considering who it was he was to carry. If he died for it, he should at least have had her in his pleasure he contemplated with such tran- sportsjas is known only to real lovers; none other know how respect heightens the joy of dispensing with formality, and ‘The lady stood by the side of her fa- ther, pale, desiréas and dreading. She | thought her lover would succeed, but on- ly because she thought him in every res- pect the noblest of his sex, and that nothing was too much for his strength and valor. Great fears catne over hersnever- theless, She knew not what might hap- pen in the chances common to all. She felt*the bitterness of being herself the burden tohim and the task, and dared | neither to look at ler father, nor the mountain. She fixed her eyes now on the crowd, (which, nevertheless, she be- held not) and now on her hand and fin- ger's ends, which she, doubled with pre- tence—the only deception she had ever used. Once or twice,a daughter or mo- ther slipped out of the crowd, and coming up to her, notwithstanding their fears of the Lord Baron, kissed the hand which she knew not what to do with. The father said—‘ Now, sir, put ‘an end to this mummery :’ and the lover:turning pale for tne first time, took up the lady. The spectators rejoice at the manner in which he moves off, slow but secure, and as if encouraging his mistress, “They mount the hill: tney proceed ‘well; he halts an instant before he gets midway, and seems refusing ‘something; then as- cends at a quicker rate: and now being at the midway point, shifts the lady from one side to the other. The spectators give a great shout. The Baron with an air of indifference, bites the top of his gauntlet and then casts on them an eye of tebuke. At the shout, the lover resumes his way. Slow, but not feeble is his sieps, yet itgets slower, He stops again, and they think they see the.lady kiss him on the forehead... The women begin. to tremble, but the men say he will be vic- torious. He resumes again, he is_half- way between the middie and_ the top;, he rushes,he stops, he staggers, but,does:not fall. Another shout froin the. men, and he resumes once more; to thirds of the remaining part of the way are conquered. They are certain the lady kisses him on the forehead and on the eyes. The wo- men burst into. tears, and the stoutest men look pale. He ascends slower than eyer, but seems to be. more sure. He halts, but itis only to plant his foot to go on again, and thus he picks his way, planting his foot at every step, and then gaining ground with an effort. The lady lifts her hands as ifto lighten him, See: he is'almost at the top ; he stops,he strug- gles, he’ moves sideways, taking very lit- tlé steps, and bringing one foot every time close to the other, Now —he is all biit on the top: itis luckily almost a leyel; he staggers, but it is forward. ‘Yes, every, limb in the multitade makes a move as if it would’ assist him,—see, at last, he is on the top—and down he falls flat with his burden. Anenormots shout! He hag worn! He has won! Now heshas a right to caress his 1mistress,and she is caressing him, for neither of them gets ips ‘If’ he has fainted it is with joy, and itis *nherarnns. ~ | Ty od HO Ste The. Baron. put.spurs.to the horse, the ! crowd following him. Half-way he is obliged to dismount : they ascend the rest of the: iill together,—the crowd silent and: happy;+-the..Baron ready to burst with shame and impatience. They reached the, ey vib ‘2 ‘ te ett OTTETOWN, take his rest.after such a deed!’ ee ee —— AVING TO ADVISE THE. PUBLIC—MAY SPEAK FREE.”—Mi.tor’s Kuripigs. ye fag sUNE 7, 1851. —— eS ee — ae - pt ae ee a eg > re ag eet ee per Voli 2: No. 13." top. re rovers wre face to face an the ground, | y claspings hii with both Erhertibiyngtneicnsite. e ‘Traitor exclaimed the Baron, ‘thou hast ptactided.this feat befote om purpose to deceive me. Arise!’ ‘You cannot expect it, sir,’ said a worthy man, who was rich enough’to speak his mind—* Sampson himself might ‘ Part them,’ said the Baron. od Several persons went up, not to part them, but to congratulate and keep them together. These’ people look close, they kneel down,—they bend an ear,— they bury their faces upon them. ‘God forbid they should ever be parted more, said a venerable man, ‘they can never be.’. He turned his old ‘face; streaminy with tears.and looked upon the Baron — ‘Sir they are dead !” SPUNK AND. PERIL, There je a.story,.and which I believe is a fact, of two boys going toa jackdaw’s nest from a hole under the belfry window in the tower of Al! Saint’s Church, Derby, England. As it was impossible to reach it standing, and equally, impossible to reach that height from without, they re- solved to put a plank through the window, —and while the heavier boy secured his balance by sitting on the end within, the lighter boy was to fix himselfion the op- posite end, and from that perilous situa- tion to reach the object of their desire. So far, the scheme answered. The little fellow took the. nest, and finding iu it five fledged young birds announced the news to his companion. . © Five are'there; then [ll have three.’ ‘ Nay, exclaimed the other, indignant: ly; ‘Irunallthe danger,and Pll. have three,’ ; 7 *You shall not,’ still maintained the boy inside; * you shall not. Promise me three, or I’ll drop you!’ ‘Drop me, if you please,’ replied the little hero, ‘but I'l] promise you no more than two, upon which his companion slipped off the plank. | Up tilted the end,and down went the boy, upwards of a hundred feet from the ground. ‘The little fellow at the moment of ‘his fall, was holding his prize by their legs—three im) one hand, and two.in the. other—end they,:finding them, selves descending,fluttered out their pin- ibs instinctively. The boy, too, had on a carter’s frock secured from the neck, which filling with air from beneath, buoy- ed him up like a balloon, and de descen- ded smoothly to the ground—when, look- ing up, he exclaimed to his companion— ‘Now you shall have none? and ran away, sound.in. every limb, to the aston- ishment of the inhabitants, who with. in- conceivable horror, had witnessed his de- scent.— Exchange pa. ie “AN APOLOGY. Of all the wares and commodities in exchange and barter, wherein so mainly consists the civilization: of our modern world, there.is, not one which is 80 care- fully weighed—so accurately measured —so plumbed and guaged—so doled and scraped—so poured in minima and bal- anced) with scraples--as that necessary of social. commerce calied an “ apology !” If the chemists were half so careful in vending their’ poisons, there would be a notable diminution in the yearly aversge of victims to arsenic and oxalic acid. But, alas, in the matter.of apology, is not from the excess of the dose, but the timid, nig- wardly, miserly manner in whieh it is dis- pensed, that poor humanity is hurried off} tothe Styx! How: many times does tife apology! Is it a hairbreath too short to cover the scratch for which you want it ? Make ‘your'will—you ate a dead man ‘ Alife;'do f say ?~-a heccatomb of lives! flow many Wars would have been pre- vented, how many thrones would be stauiding, dynasties flourishing, common- wealths brawling rownd a bema, or fitting out galleys for corn ‘and cotton—if an inch or two more of apology had been ad- ded to the proffered’ ell! But then that plaguy, jealous, gnspicious old vinegar. faced honor, and her parther, pride—ae periny-wise and pound-foolish a she-skin- flint as her self—have the monopoly of the article.” And what with the time they lose in wine | ther spectacles, hunt: ing’ on the precise shelf for the precise quality demanded, then (quality foutid) the haggling as to quantuin—considering whether it should be apothecary’s weight or avoirdupois,or English measure or Flemish—and, firally, the huilaboloo théy make if the customer is not perfectly sa- tisfied with the monstrons little he’ gets for his money,—I don’t wonder, for my part, how one loses his temper, or patience, and senés pride, honor, ‘and apology, all tothe shades. Aristophanes, in his “Comedy of Peace,” insinuates a beautiful allegory by only suffering ‘that goildess, though in fact she is his heroine , to appear'as a mute. She takes care n2- ver to open her lips. The shrewd Greek knew very well that she would cease to be Peace, ifshe once began ‘to chatter, Wherefore, O' reader, if ever you fad your pump under the iron heel of ano- ther man’s boot, heaven grant that you may hold your tongue, and not make things past all endurance and forgiveness by ‘brawling out for an apology !—My Novel,’ | SKIRMISH AND A MOMENT OF DANGER.— The melee was. much thicker in our neigh- borhood than was at all pleasant, and how we ever got out of itis unaccountable; but we did, after cutting our way from one end to, the other of the Nassur camp. Somewhere about.the. middle of it, a tall rufian, whom I was told afterwards was Shahzad’s brother, -walked deliberately at me withhis juzail, and sticking it into my stomach, so that the muzzle almost pushed meout of my saddle, fired! ‘Fhe priming flashed in the pan, and as he drew back the juzail, cut him over the head ; but I might as well have hit a cannon ball: the sword turned in my hand, and the Nassur, without resettling his turban, commenced repriming his })zail, an ope- ration which I did not stay to see com- pleted. Between 1845 and 1849, there was no lack of peri] on the Punjaub frontier, and I, like all the rest, had my share; but J have always lonked back to the. moment when that juzail missed fire, as the one of ali my life when | looked déath closest in the face.—[{Mdwardes’ Year on the Punjab Prontier. Importance oF Gotta Pencia,— Of all.modern. discoveries, gutta percha deservedly stands in the first rank for iis great utility; The public may notybe. aware of the progress made in the pre- paration and manufacture of this singular article. By different processes, it is, made elastic like India-rubber, hard like marble, and fit to spread on cloth, ‘thick or thin. A table’ Slab has been made of it, and lorig Used without injury, which possess all the external qualities 6f pol- ” ished marble. Race horses are shod” with itin England. An omnibus, we are — assured, has been running in Philadelphia for a year of more with tires on its wheels ~ made of gutta percha; and those best ac- -quainted with its properties believe that in depend, on the exact, proportions of an} nates 94 two years it will be” adopted universally wil 7 Fn lepton naticnat poe