\ WEEKLY <) e V? eee aa ee BDWARD WHELAN] Chis is true Liberty, when Fre be Eram e-born Men, having to advise the Public, may speak free.——-EURIPIDE a a see en 8. SS Wer, JOURNAL OF POLITICS, LITERATURE AND NEWS. Se neon nrnesen—nsenasnahitenil Voi. IX. ~~ — - PUBLIC LANDS. Notice to Settlers on Township i5. \ 7 HERBAS the names of soveral persons, indebted to the Govern- ment on accountof Land purchased on the above Townsh p, | were, in January lust, Gazetted for the non-payment thereof, and pro ceedings suspen led until the Ist day of November next; I herewith | notify all such persons, that I will attend at the house of Mr. Cuarves Kicaaw, Fifteen Poiat,on TUESDAY, the 8th day of NOVEMBER | next, at 10 o’slock, a. m., to receive all amounts then due, and to in- | stitute procec lings against all defaulters All persons possessing a | Licence of Oveupation, and entitled to receive a Deed, are requested to | make application for the same. JOHN ALDOUS, Commissioner of Public Lands. Land Office, October 10, 1859. SETTLERS AND PERSONS DESIROUS OF PURCHIASING LAND ON TOWNSHIP ll, .& RE hereby notified, that the Commissioner of Public Lands will attend at Mr. JAMES HENDERSON’S, Lot 11, on THURSDAY, the 10th day of NOVEMBER next, and following day, to receive all amounts then due,and for the disposal of Lands, a fine tract thereof sitaate betwee the Lot 1! Post Koad and Western Road being now opened up, and made available to settlers by a road running through the aame; and oll persons having contracts for the making of the said road, are hereby notified, that the same must be well and duly completed previous t> the above date, taat the Commissioner may inspect and give credit for their several contract. NOTICE.—A!! persons having neglected making their previous annual payment, are informed, that in every case the Statute Victoria 16, cap. 18, will be enforced, unless payment be now made. JOHN ALDOUS, Commisgiover. Land Office, Oct. 10, 1859. PUBLIC LANDS. Townships 33, 39, 40, 41, 42 and 43. FEPXUE Settles, and all persons under contract for the open- ing of Roads on the above Townships, are hereby notified, that the Commissioner will attend at Maurice Kenveric’s, Lot 38, on Monday, the 2lst day of November next, at 11 o'clock, a. m., and from thenee proceed to the new line of Road (commencing 17 chains North from Peak’s Road, and extending past the end of Sinnott’s Road to Jardine’s, and thence to St. Peter’s Road by the line known as John Mc- Ewen’s,)*to examine the work of the several Contractors there- on; previous to which date it is required the work be well and faithfully executed, to entitle them to the credit of their respective contracts. Persons desirous of purchasing farms will find good land, well timbered, on the above new line of Road. On Tuesdey, the 224, and following day, at Mr. Joun Puevan’s, Lot 39. On Thursday, the 24th at 12 o'clock noon, at Curtis’, Bay Fortune Road, Lot 42, where the several contractors for the opening of the new Road, commencing thereat, are required to attend, when the work will be inspect- ed, and credi given, if well and faithfully performed. On Friday, the 25th, at Joun Suruextanp, Esquire’s, Head of St. Peter’s Bay. The Commissioner, desirous of avoiding coercive measures, re jucsts all persons on the above Townships, indebt- ed to the Government, either by Bond, Instalment, or Note of Hand, to pay their respective amounts then due, at the above named, on the 23d, 24th and 26th days of No- vember next ; and all such persons haying b2en previously notified, neglecting to make payment thereon, their Lands will be Gazetted ia accordance with the Act 16th Victoria eap. 18. DEEDS. The Commissioner haying several Deeds of Conveyance ready for delivery, all persons who have not received their Deeds are requested to make eo for the same at the places and dates above mentioned. TRESPASSERS. All persons Treapassing ov the Government Lands, by cutt- iag Timber, or taking possession of Lands without a Lucation Ticket, will be dealt with according to law : JOHN ALDOUS, Commissioner of Pablic Lands. Land Office, Octeber 24, 1859. mane ot MOUNT STEWART HOTEL. + per aor SIDE MOUNT STEWART BRIDGE. Will be oper ) te receiye Craveliers ufter this date. ‘ JAME3 McWADE, Proprietor. Mount Stewart, April 25, 1859. a —— an a — SpgeciaL Novices. AYER’S CATHARTIC PILLS. The sciences of Chemistry and Medicine have been taxed their ut- mest to produce this best, most perfect purgative which is known to mau. Innumerable proofs are shown that these Pitts have virtues which surpass in excellence the ordinary medicines, aod that they win uapre- eedentedly upon the esteem of all men. They are safe and pleasant to take, but powerful to cure. Their penetrating properties stimulate the vital activities of the body, remove the obstructions of its organs, purify the blood, and expel disease. They purge out the foul humors which | breed and grow distemper, stimulate sluggish or disordered organs iuto their natural actiou,and impart a healthy tone with strength to the whole eystem. Not only do they cure the every-day complaints of every body, but alzo formidable and dangerous diseases that have baffled the best of | human skill. While they produce powerful effects, they are at the same time, in diminished doses, the safest and best physic that can be employed for children. Being sugar-coated, they are pleasant to take; add being purely vegetable, are free from any risk of harm. Cures have been made which surpass belief were they not substantiated by men of such exalted position and character as to forbid the suspicion of antruth. Many eminent clergymen and physicians have lent their names to certiy to the public the reliability of my remedies, while others have sent mo tho assurance of their conviction that my preparations contribute immensely to the relief of my afflicted, suffering fellow-men. The Agent is pleased to furnish gratis my American Almanac, con- taining directions for their use and certificates of their cures, of the following complaints :— : . ie Costiveness, Billious Complaints, Rheumatism, Dropsy, Heartburn, | Headache aris ng from a foul stomach, Nausea, Indigestion, M orbid In- action of the Bowels and Pains arising therefrom, Flatulency, Loss of Appetite, all Ulcerous and Cutaneous Diseases which require an evacu- ant medicine, Scrofula or King’s Evil. They also, by purifying the blood and stimulating the system, cure many complaints which it would not be supposed they could reach, such as Deafness, Partial Blindness, | Neuralgia avd Nervous Irritability, Derangement of the Liver and Kidneys, Gout, and other kindred complaints arising from a low state of bstraction of its functions. ‘ E Oe ts ay off by some unprincipled dealers with some other pill they make more profit on. Ask for AreR’s Pius, and take nothing eise. No other they oan give you compares with this in its intrinsic value or curative powers. The sick want the best aid there is for them, . they bh it. “as bs Dr. i. C. AYER, Practical and Analytical Chemist, 7” -<" 25 Ors. per Box. Five Boxes ror $i. 1 -‘s Pills.—Why pine and suffer from wasting onmianes this marvellous remedy is at hand, and within the reach of ali? It is infallible in all complaints of the stomach, the liver, and the bowels, and eradicates as well as suppresses the aching disease. Buy Ayer’s Cherry Peetoral for Coughs. Ayer’s Sarsapa- rilla for Recefslens complaints, and Ayer’s Pills for all the purposes of a Purgative Medicine. at some loss in my own mind what to say in relation | <a Davis’ Pain Killer. It really seems to be possessed of the power of magic beyond the comprehension of the human | A. W. WATCH, Draggist, Milwaukie mind. The increased sales in this State are truly astonishing. | CH\RLOTTETOWN,. PRINC i WITHERED FLOWERS. Strange are the memories, oh, withered flowera, That to my heart ye bring in wordless speech ; Brightly as sunshine falls on distant towers And gilds their outlines—of the past ye teach. Por from my childhood and its sunny pleasures, As with a key, ye turn the lock of years, Ye lift the lid, and bring forgottten treasures Before these eyes that watch the store with tears. Have ye a mirror in your withered petals, Wherein | read the history of my youth, That ye give back like glass or polistied met:ls A thousand visions fraug’t with light and truth ? Again I view my home at quiet even ; Lhe sparrows hopping on the gabled eaves, Windows illumined by the crimson heaven, Varnished with joy and framed with quivering leaves. I seem to hear the murmur of the river, As it flows on beneath the arching bridge ; To see the moonlight with its white-hued shiver, Lying in bands upon the pebbly ridge. And, stranger still, | have thgself-same feeling That traeed the letters of old romance : The glow of love, o’er all around me dealing One hue of joy —that old forgotten trance. A moment since, and some unknown connexion Gave me a strange reality of bliss : I pressed another's hand in dear affeetion ; 1 felt my forehead glow beneath a kiss. Now —but the light is vanished from my spirit, A cloud conceals the splendour of my sky. low could [ build on mortals who inherit The common fate—to live —to love—to die! For they are dead, those loved ones. Life is floeting, And steals away the props on which we trust ; Leaving one only hope of future meeting, A stamp for memory, and a hezp of dust. Leaving affections like these withered flowers, That we may hold and turn with reverent hands ; And thoughts that picture out the glorious bowers, Of which these figures are but shadowed bands. THE LEGEND OF BARNEY O'CARROLL. (From Blackwood’s Magazine.) Out there where the big waves is breakin’, An’ dancin’ an’ foamin like mad, On a beautiful warm autumn evenin’ Was strollin’ a young fisher-lad ; For the place where the say is now foamin’ Was then just as bare as your hand ; An’ where that blue wather is curlin’ Was only a broad yellow strand. Well, the fisher-boy, Barney O'Carroll, Was hot~—he kem down for a dip; An’ as he was peelin’, behould you } He scen a most charmin’ young slip Tn a state that was mighty provokin’— She'd only stepped out of her clothes : An’ there she was singin’, while combin’ Bright hair that lowed down to her tues. ‘+ Blur an agers,”’ ses Barney, “ what is she ? Or where does she come from at all ; Be the mortial, I°}) ax iv she’s married— Iy she isn’t I'll give her a eall.”’ So stalin’ up close to the coleen He bid her the time o° the day ; When turnin’ she glanced at boald Burney, An’ pop! she was undber the say, ** She’s only a mermaid,’’ thought Barney, An’ pondherin’ shoreward he goes, As he picked upa green cloak, exclamin’, ** She'll surely come back for her clothes.’’ **Oh! give me my cloak,’’ cried a sweet voice, That seemed to come up from the waye— Bat Barney ran home like a eay-lark, The cloak an’ his body to saye. That night there was tempest, an’ Barney Put off with some lads to a wreck ; But only one beautiful maiden Remained of the crew on the deck. She was saved by the courage of Barney ; An’, as a reward for her life, Became, ere the autumn fruit withered, His fond an’ endearin’ young wile. Now all things were thrivin’ with Barney, Not forgettin’ *‘ herself’ an’ twin boys, But the fool couldn’t keap his tongue quiet ; An’ by way of expandin’ his joys, He tould her about the fair mermaid, An’ how he tuk care of her cloak ; ‘« The story,’’ says she, ‘* you bosthoon, Is no more nor a bottle o’ smoke.”’ «*O that I may lose you this minit, But it’s trath that I’m tellin’ to you.” ‘«« Why, then, show me the cloak,’’ ses the darlin’, ** For [im sure it’s a thing you can’t do.”’ «¢ Arrah, can’t [?°’ ses he ; ** just come this way, An’ say did you e’er see the match For complateness, an’ splendor an’ beauty, With what I’ve above in the thatch ?”’ He stepped on a three legged creepeen, An’ just where the thatch met the wall, Tuk down what appeared a tay-caddie, With its varnish an’ paintin’, an’ all : An’ he opened the lid—-when his fut slipped, An’ sos, he came down on the flure — Then, L’m tould, that the look that she gev him Was what you might call kill or cure. ‘© © be all the salt waves in the ocean !’”_ Ses Barney—*‘ Don’t curse,’ ses the wife ; «« For the time I have to stay with you, Barney, Let us haye no hot wather, nor strife : You have been very kind to me, darlin’— But this cloak o’ mine you tuk away. ‘‘ Oh, murdher!’’ cried Barney, ‘‘ ’twas you, then, That spoke to me out of the say.”’ ‘‘ Troth it was,’’ ses she ; ‘‘ I am the mermaid That called to you out o’the wave— What's more, I’m the beautifal creathur You kem thro’ the tempest to save. | An’ as long as my cloak you kep from me, EK EDWARD ISLAND, MONDAY. NOVEMBER [EDITOR axp PUBLISHER «Metin ee No. 18. A mermaid I ne’er more could be.”’ ‘* Oh! iv I knew that, [’d have pledged it,” See Barney—‘* Acushla machroe!” » ‘** You’re no mermaid at all—sure no mermaid Or other maid ever had boys— Here childher’’—he turned for 2 moment Consavin’ he heard a quare noise — A noise like the boom 0’ the ocean When gently it kisses the shore. Now Barney has pressed to his fond heart The sweet wife he ne'er shal] press more. ‘* Farewell, I must lave you, acushla— Don’t you hear how they call me away ?” Ev'ry thread of her graen cloak that minit Melted into a wave o’ the say ! Av’ surgin’, an’ singin’ such music— No wild harp was ever so sweet— Came a throop of young mermen an’ mermaids, An’ bore her clune off oy her feet! The nate little cottage had vanished, An’, floating away in a shell, Went herself an’ the childher—poor Barney Could hardly spake more nor ‘* Farewell— Won’t you lave me one boy for a keepsake ?”’ But afore he had said one more word, Each child left the side o° the mother, And changed to a lovely say bird ! An’ foldin’ their bright wings, an’ nestlin’ On Barney’s hand, shoulder, and breast— Just as iv they wor still his dear young ones, He kissed them ; while fondly he pressed The sweet gentle things to his sad heart, An’ kissed them again; then away With the mother an’ mermen an’ mermaids The little birds flew o’gr the say! “Why, thin, Barney, what ails you, you spalpeen ? An’ what’s this you have in your fist? — A bottle ! ov courge, nothin’ in it— No, nor in this dhudeen that you've kissed. Or what (an’ the tide makin’ swiftly) Possessed you to lie on the strand ?” ‘**T was lookin’ at somebody dhrinkin’, An’ so [ like wather at hand : ‘+ Bat ov all the sthrange sights an’ adventures That ever you heerd—an’ they’re thrue— I seen,’’—and he ris @p and tould me The story [I’ve just toald to you. ** An’,”’ evs he, ** what do you think abut it?” ** An’,’’ ses I, * drank or not, you're the same,; An’ you're tale, if not thrae, sure it’s pleasant, An’ not at all bad for a dhrame!”’ ——S Gleanings from late Papers, Beactiron Exraact.—Men seldom thiuk of the great event of death until the shadow falls across their own path. hiding forever from their eyes the traces uf the loved ones whose living smile was the sunlight of their existence. Death is the great antagonist of life, and the cold thouzht of the tomb is the skeleton of all feasts. Wedo not want to go throuzh the dark valley, although its passages may lead to paradise; aud, with Charles Lamb, we do uot want to lie down in the muddy grave even with kings and princes for our bedfellows. But the fiat of nature is inexorable. There is no appeal or relief from the great law which dooms us to dust. We flourish and we fade as the leaves o! the forest, and the flower that blooms and withers in a day has not a frailer hold upon life than the mightiest monarch that ever shook the earth with his footsteps. Generations of men appear and vanish as the grass, and the countless multitude that throngs the world to-day will to morrow disappear as the footsteps on the shore. in the beautiful drama of Ion, che instinct of immortality, so eloquently uttered by the death-devoted Greek, finds a deep response in every thoughtful soul, When about to yield his young existence as a sacrifice to fate, his beloved Cle- manthe asksif they shal! not meet again, to which he replies: “T have asked that question of the hills that look eternal— of the clear streams that flow forever—of the stars, among whose fields of azure my raised spirit hath walked in glory. All were dumb. But while 1 gaze upon thy living face, I feel that there is something in the love that mantles through its beauty that cannot wholly perish. We shall meet again, Clemanthe.” Se A Youye Lapy's Pastime 1x Paris.—A Puris corres- pondent of the Perth Amboy Journal says that thore is a} new fashionable epidemic raging in the Freneh capital, a sort of a young ladies’ work, the result of which wil! last for | many geveratious. Te process is this: You buy a set of porcelain (Sevres if you choose,) as expensive or cheap as your taste or you purse will admit of; on taese you paint heads, landscapes, flowers, or Whatever you faucy, with paints prepared for the purpose. Then you sead it to the baker, who bakes it three times, who so fizes the colors that they become permanent, and last as lomg asthe china. [ have seen a complete tea set painted by a young lady, which could uot be painted for a thousand dollars. kvery plate, cup, saucer, preserve dish and cake basket, was different and very beautiful. Of course the baker must thoroughly uudersiand his business, for a minute too long in the oveu, or tue oven (oo hot, may destroy all, An artist who had spent many months painting a piece _ a] A Sap Casz.—Joseph Petit, a bard-working warebouse man of New Orleans, was entrusted with $705 to deposit ia a bank, He took a drink on the way, a second and a third. | While intoxicated he lost $400 gambling. His widowed | motaer took the remainder, sought his employers and ob:ained | their forgiveness for her son. He, meanwhile, was in prison ; | but it was intended to release him after a severe admonition. Ri worse and shame, however, were too much for him. The frenzic] man butted his head against the walls of his cel! with such violence that his skull was fractured, and he was found dead by the jailor. > 6 oe A Represgntativs.—A young urchin, employed to cleanse a chimney of a house ia Macclesfield, and having ascended to the “ summit of bis profession,” took a survey. This com- pleted, he prepared to descend, but mistaking the flue, he found himself on his landing, in the private study of a limb of the law, whose meditations on some abstruse point were put to flight. The sensation of both parties it is impossible to describe ; the boy, terrified lest he should be punished, stood riveted t> the spot, and the lawyer, struck dumb, started from his seat, the very image of horror, but spoke not. Sooty, however, scon found a. tongue, and in aceants, which ouly inereased the terror of the man of law, cried out— ‘- My father’s cumin’ directly.” This was enough ; the presence of such an equivocal being, so introduced, unnerved his heart; with one bound the affrighted lawyer flew down stairs, and in his kitchen sought refuge from the enemy. ne pce A Boxv Prererence.—The Rev. Mr. an cecentric ‘preacher in Michigan, was holding forth not long since in Detroit. A young man arose to go out, when the preacher said :—“ Young man, young man, if you'd rather go to hell than hear me preach, you may go.” The siuner stopped, reflected a moment, and saying, respectfully, “ Well, 1 be- lieve I would.” He went out. ——_—_++e—___ . A pretty girl attended a ball out West, recently, decked off in a short dress and pants. The other ladies were shocked. She quietly remarked that if they would pull up their dresses about the ueck, as they ought to be, their skirts would be as siort us hers ! 20 Satarny or ti Loro Mayon or Lotpoy.—The Lord Mayor has ax allowance of £7000; it is geuorally e'ted as £5000, but is barely so much. It is variable, even to tha extent of £1000 a year, more or less, owing to a portion of it being derived from the ducs on fruit. His household at the Mansion House cousis's of 23 gentlemen, and he has a Zood retinue of servants. Ile has to provide his own horses, and Mas to fird a carriage and horses for the Lady Mayer- ess. The expenses of the mayoralty usually cxseed the allowance by Ld0VV. a IRELAND. THE CLEARANCES ON THE DERBY ESTATES. The Clonmel Chronicle, of recent date, supplies some fasts which, it says, may tend to enlighten the public mind upon the subject of Lord Derby's dealings with his Tij perary ten- antry. The following is a eundensed statement of the addi- tional information :-—— ‘*The Coogley estate, one the emallest in the parish of Doon, contained at the time of the murder but I4 tenants, aad there has not been much difficulty in discovering who amon them have taken part in trying to detect the erimipal, an who have endeavoured to screen the murderer, and avert the retributive arm of justice by setting afloat false reporis, ca}- culated only, and no doubs artfully designed, tv mislead the magistracy. Where, we would now ask, did the false intelli- gencers of the press find their ‘‘ hundreds of families’’ that were soon to be set adrift upon the world? The few that are to leave have at least no such present doom before them ag that predicted by their sympathizers; fhey need not seck the workhouse as their sole retreat. for they are allin afflusat circumstances, owing (which of them ean deny ?) to the unre- mitting generosity of their noble landlord. and to his sense of Justice in carrying out at his own expense ali the pormenont improvements on the estate, and leaving the tenant with al! his capital to expend in cultivating the lend for hts own profit. Lord Derby did more than this. In the agreements entered into with the tenantry it was the invariable custom upon the estate to insert tenant right clauses, securing to them the value of the crops and unexhausted manural improvements to the land. ‘* When during the years of famine, the estate was covered with bat squatters and Jabourors on the bog, ani those poor people petitioned Lord Derby to send them to America, their petition was granted, and, free of expense to themselves, they were enabled toemigrate, and many of them by their imdastry | have since reaped the fruits of this liberality. All the land | then taken up was levelled over, put into excelieut order, and ‘given to the present tenants at Jow rents, and without their contributing anything by fine or otherwise to ths eost of ra- |claiming it. The occupiers of those holdings are well aware of the profit which their tenancies secured tiem —nor are they ,ignorant of how largely that profit exceeded ths advantage whieh the noble earl himself derived from the estate. But /when murder has stained this field of a landlord's generosity, \is it to be reasonably expected that heshould continue to them 'the means of profitable resource, to his own disadvantage, if | they conspire to conceal the murderer? Did no other feeling (than mere gratitude prompt the recipients of his lordship's | bounty, they should long since have come forward to denounce the criminal by openly disclosing the hidden facts of the out- rage. Itis idle to say that they are ignorant of the reason why the unhappy Crowe was vicsimised, for it is made the subject of conversation, and rather freely discussed in tho jneighbourhood, Some of the tenants are known to be cogni- for the exhibition at the Palais d’Industrie, umong the coul- | gant of important evidence, and if they do not come forward lections of living artists, had it cracked in the oven of sufficient care. The porcelain 1e hundred dollars. Not loug since a baker fe!] asleep and broke $8000 worth of porcelain, for which he was obliged to pay, and consequentiy ruined, i do not kuow if you have porcelain bakers in the United States, but if you bad you would find this far preferable to many other pastimes in vogue. by want ; : cos priate aioue had cost som eT ee Music 1n Evatanp.--There is no country where one may hear better music than in England, yet that conntry bas never produced a great composer. [Jandel was a German and Haydn was born near Vienna. Englaod has never created a school, or style peculiar to itself’ The glees of the sixteenth century will always charm, just as the Lrish melo- dies do; but they are mere fragments of the simplest kind, and have nothing in them tending to high eminence. The Kaglish know this; and they prove their good taste by never playing their own music, and by only playing the best music of other countries, and instract their familics t» answer questions on the subject ‘of what they have seen and heard, bat would rather prefer keeping on good terms with the party whem Crowe offended than retaining their farms, it is their own choice, and no cruelty on the partof Lord Derby, who has called on them to decide for themselves. ** But what more has the Earl of Derby done to show his anxiety to benefit his tenantry and to establish the friendly link that should ever subsist between the landlord and tenant | dlasses, irrespective of political or religious considerations ? | To the parish priest of Doon his lordship pave a site for a chapel, and also a cheap farm and a free turf bank. Thebog being very gmall, to no other person, not even to his agent, /was a similar favour granted; and besides all this, the neble ‘lord built aud kept up two schools for the parish, though, as we have already stated, his estate was the least extensive in Doon. But the foul perpetrators and concoctors of the dread- ful outrage proceeded to the completion of their murderous purpose, reckless of past liberality, of future retribution ! One word more as to the justice of thestep which Lord Derby has taken. Possessed of an enlarged ow and an hon- orable feeling, the Earl of Derby would be the last to inflict an ‘injustice. ‘Lime is given to all the suspected tenants to clear j t eres oll te Percy ¥ : : . if