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VOLUME 3. ijtiOilW TttE.KMtTll h published every Thursday Morning, by tt.lv; irfiAfEß.' OFFlCE—rffpsUWt in thfNfV ffViri building on thesoulH side af Main street, third square below Market. TERMS :-l\va Doll V S -oaf aiytum. If paid withui six months from the lime ol suosen biqg ; two dollars and fifty cents if ndt paid within the year. No subscription received for alosa period than six months : no discon tinuance permitted until hll arrearages are paid, unless at the option ot the editoVs. ADVERTISEMENTS not exceeding one square wilt be inserted three times for one doller,and twenty-five cents for each additionl inser tion. A liberal discount will be made to those whp advertise by the year. From Oodey's Lady's Book. NO LETT EH." nr JENNY GRAY. "No letter?" and the maiden sighs ; And low the jetty lashes bend, To shield aPke those<lreamy eyes From gaze of foe ofgazo of friend, The looping pulse beats quicker timo To music of the fulling tears, AnAjouder sounds the heart's low chime— ,*ffer love is ever lull of fears. Not that one thought dreams him untrue, Hjm love yrjth all a woman's love ; Fiilfilove, as pure as morninz dew, As constant as its source above. -God bless thee, maiden, if ihnu art To taste of .sorrow's poisoned cup; To knoty man can betray. the heart— God bear thee up, God bear thee up! * * • * No letter!" and the mother bends "To kiss her infant boy so fair, While quick a single ear-drop wends To glitter in his sunny hair. He smiles from out those eyes of blue, A smile that wakes both joy and pain ; It tells of him, the loving, true, Now far upou the tossing maiu. Fair Faith and Hope their garlands wreathe "Another kiss, my durlitig boy"— While from her beart the soft lips breathe A prayer of mingled grief and joy. God bless thee, mother, if the knell Of death comes booming o'er the son, In low, deep, heavy tones, to tell The depth of woe prepared for thee ! ### • ' "No lettet!" and the father's brow. O'er which tho white locks thinly stray, Grows paler, and the pulses slow Within their hidden channels play. j "O God! picserve ray dearest son, To be m f stay in lifels decline !" How close around his üb.-ent one Tho father's fond affections twine ! Through weal ar.d woe, through cares and tears That love has but the blighter shone ; Till, in the waning of his yeats, The very soul of life it's grown. God save thee, father, if. that Love Shall set in darkest starless night, And help thee home to Heaven above, Where on the heart can fail no blight 1 SEARCHING FOR HAPPINESS. BY CATHARINE M. SEDGWICK. — t DREAMED I was sitting on an eminence where the whole scene of life was before me; Seas, plains, eilies, and country, the world and its actors. An old man, with the noble head and serene countenance that be fit wisdom, stood beside me, and I turned a perplexed gaze on the multitudinous hmnan family, and asked him "Who is it that so many seem confidently expecting, and so many others to be blindly pursuing I" "She is immortal," he replied, "whose home is not of this world. In truth, she rarely visits it Her oompauionship is re served for thoso who, in the language of tho Scripture, 'shall see God as he is, for they j , - shall be like him.' Her name is Happiness. She is never found of those who seek her for her own sake." "Why, then, are so many pursuing her?" I asked; "why do they not learn from the experience of others?" "Tho desire of her presence," he replied, "is born with them. _ The child cries for her; some are ignorant of the means of attaining her; some delude themselves, and others uro.detuded as to the manner of winning her;'few are willing to pay the price of her friendship, and fewer still receive the truth that she does not abide on earth with those most worthy of her presence. To them her visits are rare and brief, but they are content Indwell among her kindred, Submission, Tranquillity, Contentment, and Patience." "Take this," said he, giving me a curious •ye-glass, "it will enable you to see the dis tant, to penetrate every secret path, and dis cern untold thoughts." I took the glass, and it fulfilled its promise. I now beheld the whole world in pursuit of this enchanted being. Some were crossing the wide sea, some treading the wilderness; masses were crowding into cities, and others 1 flying to the country in quest of her. They looked for her where she was never heard ef, and what at first was inexplicable to me, that most eagerly sought her, and fought nothing else, never by any chance found has. Tired of my general observation, I finally i confined my attention'to two young persons who began the course of Kfo together. One 1 was a beautiful girl called, Brillanta, whom I saw in a French boarding school, with teach ers in all the arts and various branches of learning. "Why do lifey confine me here she ex claimed pettishly; "they tell mn I was born for Happiness, and I have not so muoh as heard the rustling of her wings in this tire some place. Well, I must Worry it through; but whan mhool days are over, and I am out and surrounded by friends, followed by losers, acd go at, will to operu and balls, tiLOOMSBURG, COLUMBIA COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, OCTOBER 16, 1851. than Happiness will bo my constant compan ion," The golden future b4oasa£ Brillauta's pres ent. I saw her wreathed with flowers and sparkling with jewels ; admired and flatter ed, and hurrying from one scene of gaety to another; but instead of the companions she 'presumptiously expected, there were - only Pleasure and Excitement, and, lit their heels, Satiety ahd. Weariness. "Alas 1" exclaimed Brillanta, "Happir.ees is not yet with me, but she will come to nay wedding, with the bridal gifts ind festivities; she will take up her abode in my luxurious home 1" But true love was not required at the martiage, so Happiness refused to be there. Vanity and Pride were among the guests, and were soon followed with the fiend Disappointment. Happiness could not breathe the air they infected. A lew years passed. "Happiness had never beep, never will be here!" exclaimed Brillanta. "My husband is so tiresome! my children teasing 1 my servants so tor menting'. I will go to foreign lands,! wllj explore other countries ; surely where so many rush to seek Happiness, she must be fouou." Ayyay went Brillanta, but the chase was vain; sfttfTtcver got so rauelt as a glimpse of Happiness, though she went on pursuing till death overlook hor. A mist that had been gathering round her settled into darkness, and I seAH-her no more. she wliUm I had seen start in the career of life with Brillanta was named Serena. She cum* faMh daily from a home where all sweet contentments were, from God-loving and God-feuring parents, to her school tasks. She had an earnest and sweet countenance, but what chiefly struck me about her was unHkeneaa to the rest of the world. She was noi pursuing Happiness. She was toe modest to claim her presence, too humble tojexpect. She was so occupied with her tasks and desires, that she had no lime to think of herself, but she was eager enough to obtain the acquaintance of Hap piness for others. What disinterestedness; what sell'-forgetfulness she practiced to a chievejhls ! and strange to say, when sho asked and sought this eluding being, and when the clouds gathered heavily around Serena, so that Happiness could not come, she sent her helpful handmaid, Patience, and Serena was content and grateful. "How many unexpected, undeserving meetings X have with my heavenly friend !" Serena would exclaim. Happiness daily sa luted Iter on lite lovely aspect of nature in household loves, m the prayer of faith, and the peg£p of acquitting conscience. To Se rena in due time also came the wedding day, ami with illimitable hope and right confidence that belongs to that period of a woman's life, she said, "Happiness, you will of course preside at litis festival." "Of course," replied Happiness, "for where mjr best friends gather on the wed ding day—love, fidelity, and moderation— am I ever absent? But remember, my dear Serena, my stay can not be long; care, trial, sorrow, must come to you; I can not consort with them, but they will prepare you for my constant society hereafter, and make you rel ish it keenly." Care, trial, sorrow, stern sisters who come to ail, did come to Serena, but they were not always present; their terrors were con i verted to a precious ministry by the unfail ing presence of Serena's best friend, Reli gion. My eyes followed the course of this "traveler between li e and death," and I saw that she met Happiness on many an elevation in her life, at many a bright spot or sudden turn ; and finally, when the gates of death opened to her, I saw her celestial friend, wiih open arms, awaiting her, to abide with thorn for ever and ever. The Democratic Principle. It is noble in its origin, for it is bom of | the Christian Religion. It is exalted in its ' purposes, for i t seeks the greatest good of all mankind. The foundation of Justice— I it i* no respector of persons, but its protec ting wing, like the dews of Heaven, falls e qually upon all. It distinguishes not be tween the prince and peasant—for it is no worshipper of titles. It is as much the friend of the poor as the rich, and it is not less the protector of the oppressed than the enemy of the oppressor. It acknowledges ' no tyranny over the mind or body of man. It is the foe of despotism in every where— it is freedom itself. It knows no bounds— for, like charity, it is universal in its motives and seeks ta dispense its blessings in every clime. Tyrants quake at its approach, and quail before its frown.—Thrones tremble at its touch, as if smote by the glance of des tiny. SuperstUiou flies from it like the ear ly dew from the morning sun. The rub bish of ages—all the refined systems of des potism crumble to atoms at its presence.— It has no deceit. It assumes no artificial or unreal character. It wears no borrowed or * ( en livery. It has no trifling vanity Its ob ject is not "empty show," but ;he freedom and happiness of man. Of Heaven it is heavenly, and free from worldly passions and worldly pride.—lt is tbe offspring of light—the living witness of man's regenera tion, and will live forever. Suoh it the DEMOCRATIC PRINCIPLE. . iy There is an essential meanness in wishing to get the better of any one; the only competition worthy ef a wise man it with himself. THE EIJITOR-By one. The editor is the dupe of destiny, j His lot was knocked down to him a bargain, and it turns out to be a take in. His land ef promise is a mountain stuffed with thorns. His laurel wreath is a garland of nettles His honors resolve themselves into a capital hoax, his pleasures are heavy pen allied, his pride is the snuff of a candle, his power but volumes of smoke*. The editor is the' most ill-starred man alive. He, and he alone, a thousand pretenders about town notwith standing ,is indeed the identical martyr, commonly talked of as tho most ill-uSed in dividual. Ho seems to govern opinion, and is, in reality, a victim to the opinion of oth ers. He inours more than nine-tenths of the risk and responsibility, and reaps less than one-tenth of the rewaid and leputation. The defects of his work are liberally assign ed to him, the merits are magnanimously imputed to his correspondents, if a bad ar ticle appears, the editor is unsparingly con demned ; if a brilliant article be inserted, anonymous carries off the eulogium. The editorial function is supposed to consist in substitutions of "if it be," for it is, and tho insertion of the word however, here and to rmpedi the march of fine style. Commas and colons are the only murks he-is reputed to make . his niche of fame is merely a pa renthesis ; he is but a note of admiration to genius; his life is spent in ushering clevc r people into deserved celebrity ; he sits as a charioteer, outside the vehicle in which pro digious talents are driven to immortality. It is his fortune to insert ail his contributions in the temple of glory, and to exclude him self lor want of space. He always hopes to go in, bnt expires unblessed at last. He be stows present popularity on thousands with out securing posthumous renown as his own share. His career iu this life is a tale of mystery "to be continued in our next." He is only thojght of when things go wrong iu the Journal. Curiosity then looks out tho corner of his eyes, and with brows and lips pursed up, queriously ejaculates "who is he?" if by chance, praise instead of censure should be meditated, tho wrong man is im mediately mentioned. People are only cer tain of their editor when they are going to cowhide him. Is there a bright passage or two in an indifiereut article, you may be sure that they are not indebted for that pol ish to the editorial pen. Is there a dull phrase or harsh period in some favorite con tribution? Oh! the editor has altered it, or neglected to revise the proof/ But if the editor is abused for what ho luserh, he is' twice abused for what he neglects. It is a curious feature in his destiny that if he strikes out but a single lino of an article, whether in poetry or prose, that very line is infallibly tho crowning beauty of the pto duction. It is not a little odd that when ho declines a paper, that paper is sura to be far the best thing the author ever wrote. Accepted articles may be bad ; rejected ones are invariably good. It is admitted that judgment is exactly the quality which the editor has not. An author is praiseJ in a review, he is grateful to an individual wri ter, whose name ho has industriosly inquir ed author is condemned in a review, he is unspeakably disgusted with the editor. Week al'ler week, month after mouth, the said editor succors the oppressed, raises up tho weak, applauds virtue, exalts talent; he pens or promulgates the praise of friends, of their books, pictures, acting, safe ty lamps and steam paddies, but from the catalogue of golden names bia own is an eternal absentee. jug Property Exempt from Execution. —By the new code of Virginia, the following is a list of the property exempt from execution : "One cow, one bedstead, with a bed and necessary bedding for the same, six chairs, one table, six knives, six forks, six plates, two dishes, two basins, one peff; oven, six pieces of wood or earthenware, one loom and its appurtenances, one spinning wheel, one pair of cards, and one axe; five barrels of corn, five bushels of wheat, or one barrel of flour, two hundred pounds of bacon or pork, and five dollars in value of forage or hay." THE YANKEES IN SWEDEN.—The different nations of the world, even t|ie most enlight ened, are restoring to American enterprise," science, and skill. A Mr. Robinson, of this country, is about to erect in Sweden and Norway a number of lines of magnetio tal* egraph. Ho has been granted a privilege for the enterprise, which is to endure for fif ty years : and a company, including several heavy capitalists in New York and Stock holm, has been formed under his auspices. A charter for a similar undertaking will, it is expected, be obtained from tbe Government of Denmark. SHOW FURNlTUßE.—Furniture too good to be used is a nuisance. Nothing is more un pleasant than the aspect of a room, or suite of rooms, where everything is bagged up— chairs in pianafores, mirrors in muslin, a druggcted carpet, a hearth rug wrong aide out, and a chandelier in a sack, seen rays of I light that straggle in edgewise through slits in the shutters, and exhaling (hat peculiar browtrtoHarfd fragrance which belong to drawing rooms in masquerade dress, form one of the most cheerless, dispiriting, un human-like spectacles, in the diorama of do mestic life. OT The guilt of o'm tin is a greater mis* ery than the burden of a thousand crosses. •Truth ami Bigfet>-4l4(gj(pfr Country. Eton, the Christian Statesman. A GOOD MOVE. Mr. Cobden has made a motion in the British Parliament, that the Govertirtrtnt in stitute a treaty or agreement wifh that 0? France, for mutual and proportional reduc tions of their naval and military armaments. It is a wonder to us that this sensible and rational course has not been taken long ago, instead of the tuirous policy of attempting to outstrip each other in the means of de fence. If tnere is a mutual curtailment of warlike preparation, of course neither par ty will be more in the power of the othe r than at present—in fact not so much so, for, with a large lorce at command, one party may take advantage of an unguarded mo ment on the other side of Tie channel to strike a fatal blow, Whereof tio such advan tage could be taken if their respective estab lishments were no larger than is necessarv for the preservation of internal peace. If Russia and other countries cannot be i induced to join the plan of proportionate re ductions, the English and French might still salely ac: upou it by entering into an alli ance ofiensive and defensive. They would receive the hearty sympathy of the United Stales Government and people. If the national debts of England, France, and other European States, are ever to be paid, it must be by curtailing their enormous and unneccessary military establishments. The average annual expenses of the British Govercment are now, and have been for many years, about fifty millions of pounds sterling, or two hundred and fifty millions of dollars. Of this immense sum, about two thirds goes interest of her public deet ! It must be a gloomy thought to the English people, that they are forever to car ry this immense load on their shoulders. But when taey reflect that it has been, for the most part, entailed upon them by the ambition of kings and statesmen in the maintenance of unjust wars, we wonder at the patience with which they submit to it. The only hope of being relieved from it, without open repudiation, is in the way we have indicated. Unfortunately, tbe most wealthy and in fluential classes are deeply interested in not only continuing the debt, but also in keeping up the army and navy at their present stan dard. The national debt is a convenient and certain ihvestment for capital, while the ar my and navy enlist the support of all the great families as an honorable provision for their younger sous. In thi*wny everything seems to conspire to 3t£Ji-4rd people with debt and taxes. One-fourth of the immense sums which are thus annually thrown away would pro vide for the thorough education of every child in England, besides maintaining the poor. Fortunately, tbe masses of the people are beginning to understand their true interests, and the influence of wealth and station are, of late years, much compromised by tho in fusion of democratic feeling. Everv year sees some dream of reform realized ; and the friends of humanity have reason to hope that another generation may see the British nation, and perhaps other countries of En rope, released from the thraldom of a public debt. Selections for Newspapers. Most persons thinj; the selection of suita ble matter for a newspaper the easiest part of the business. How great an error! It'ia by all means the most difficult.—To look, over and over, bundles of exchange papers, every day, from which to select enough for one, especially when the question is not what shall, but what shall not be selected, is indeed "no easy task." It every person who reads a newspaper, could have edited it, we should hear less complaints. Not un frequentl) is it the case that an editor looks i over all kis exchanges for something inter ) esting, and can absolutely find nothing. Ev ery paper is dryer than a contribution box; and yet something must ba had—hixpaper must have something in it, and he does the be#t he can. To an editor who has the least care about what he selects, the writing he does is the easiest part of his labor. A pa per when completed should be one the edi tor would be willing to rgad to his wife, his mother, or hie (laughter; and il he does that, if he gets such a paper, he will find his fabor a most difficult one. Every subscriber thinks the paper is print ed for his espeoial benefit, and if there is nothing in it that suits him it most be stop ped, it is good for nothing. Some people look ever the deaths and marriages, and ac tually complain ot the editor, if but tew people in the vicinity have been so unfortu nate as to die, or so fortunate as to get mar-, ried the previous week. An editor shodtd have suoh things in his paper whether they occur or not.—Just at many subscribers as an editor may have, just so many tastes has he to consult. One wants stories and poetry. another abhors all this. The politician wants nothing but politics. One must have some thing sound. One likes anecdotes, fun and frolio, and a next door neighbor wonders that a man of senae . will put such stuff in his paper. Something spicy comes out, and the editor is a bluckguarJ- Next comes something argumentative, and the editor is a dull fool. Au4 so between them all, you see .the poor fellow gets roughly handled. And yet; to ninety-nine out of a hundred, these things never occur. They never re flect that what does not please them, may pleaae the next man, but tbvy insist that if the paper dees apt suit them, it is good lor nothing. , j fUaaners and Customs Abroad. Tbe letters of Mr. Dawson, of the Albany Evening Journal, wbile travelling through England, France, ko., are fresh aud racy, and by no means so barren of useful infor mation as most of the foreign correspon dence ef American newspapers. Here is an extract from his last Paris letter : "I have seen ladies (roughly jostled from the sidewalks on tbe Boulevards—where, if Snywhere, you might look for politeness— and, in crossing from Dover to Oaten d, and from Boulogne to Folkestono, I have seen Frenchmen stretched out at full length upon sofas, white ladies could find no place to sii down. But I never saw a Frenchman dis commode himself to oblige a lady. All this may seem apocryphal. And so 1 would have deemed it but for the evidence ol my own senses. Americans may be ignorant of many of the higher branches of politeness; but if one of the 'Universal Nation' should treat women as cavalierly as Frenchmen treat them, there is not a backwoodsman cast of the Rocky mountains who weuld not volunteer to pitch him into the Mississippi. "Nor is this inattention induced by any 1 want of appreciation on the part of the la dies. I never saw gratitude more graceful ly expressed than when a venerable Phila delphian, with genuine Yankee promptness, extricated a laxly, with a pretty little 'respon sibility,' from a crowd at a railroad station. When he had procured a cab for her,he held her little one until she was seated. She thanked him iu French-not a word of which however, he would have understood, but for her eyes. They were perfectly intelligible. In reply to her thanks, the kind-hearted old genlleraa n said, 'lt's all right my girl, and just what any gentleman would have done.' 'Anglais ?' inquired the little French-woman. 'Not by a long shot; I'm a Yankee all o ver.' "Here is a bill, for a day, at one of the best hotels in France t Bed-room, five francs ; breakfast, (coffee, warm bread, but ter, and two eggs,) two francs; dinner, (ta ble d'hote,) fhur francs ; tea, two francs; servants, one franc—B2,so. Those (and 1 am always in that catagory) who desire a mutton chop, beefsteak, or slice of broiled bam, with their coffee and eggs for breakfast must pay an additional franc. This is about the average bill of sojourners in good hotels without wine. Those who prefer it, howev er, can live comfortably in Paris, by taking lodgings, for hall this sum." COAL: THE CAUSE OF ENGLAND'S GREATNESS—THE ro- TURE GREATNESS OF THE UNITED STATES. During a brief sojourn of that eminent geologist, Hugh Miller, in England, he crit ically examined the carboniferous districts, especially the coal fields of central England, to whioh shb has for so many years owed her flourishing trade. Its area, he remarks, scarcely equals that of one Scottish lakes— thirty miles long and eight broad; ''yet how many steam engines has it set io motion ? How mauy railway trains has it propelled, antl how many millions of tons of iron has it raised to the surface, smelted, and ham mered ? It has made Birmingham a great city—the first iron depot of Europe. And if one small field has done so much," he says, "what may we expect frorn those vast ba sins laid down by I.yell in the geological map of the United Slates? When glancing over the three huge coal fields of the Uui ted States, each surrouuded with its ring of old red sattdstone, 1 called to mind the pro phesy of Berkely, and thought I could at length tee what he could not— the scheme of its fulfillment. He saw Persia resigning the sceptre to Macedonia, Greece to Rome, and Rome to Western Europe, which abuts on the Atlantic. When America was covered with forests, he anticipated an age when that country would occupy as prominent a place amnng the nations as had been oc cupied by Assyria and Rome. Its enormous some of them equal in extent to all England, seem destined to form BO mean element in its greatness. If a patch con taining but a few square miles has done so much for central England, what may not fields, '.containing many hundred square leagues, do for the United States ?" " 'Westward the course of empire takes its way.' The lour first acts already past ; A fifth shall olose the drama with the day, Time's noblest offspring is the last." IMMKNSITI or SrxcE.-In Household Words it is said, imagine a railway from here to the son. How many hours is the sun from us ? Why, if we were to send a baby in an express train, going incessantly a hundred miles an hour without making any stoppage, the baby would grow to be a boy—the boy to be a man—the man would grow old and die—without seeing the sun, for it is distant more than a hundred years from us. But what is this compared to Neptune's dis tance? Had Adam and Eve started, by our railway, at tbe creation logo from Neptune to the Sun, at the rate of fifty miles an hour, they would not have got there yet, for Nep tune is more than six thousand years from the centre of our system. Destruction of Dead Letters.— -la Washing ton City, on Wednesday morning last,' one hundred and sixty-four bags of dead Letters which had been opened and examined at the Dead Letter office, were carried off to a valley near Monument Square, where com pletely destroyed by fire. Each bag con tained about five bushels. fee* - t a. a<v' 1 SPIRIT FLOWERS. - '1 ■ IfHl BY CHARLES D. STUART. F A voting child stood by its mother's stdfcj Watching the shitting mould .[ Of a gtave scoped frdra old grave dual, By a sexton grey and old ; "And why do they bury us, mother dear, Down in the earth so cold ?" She asked, as she gazed at the grave fresh scoped By the sexton grey and old. "The earth is not cold ( my darling ohild," Softly the mother said : "Its bdsom is warm, and to sleep and rest, Gently we bury tho dead : Its bosom is warm my darling child, And under the sun and shower, The soul will rise from its quiet sleep, A beautiful bud or flower.' "And angels will bear it up, my child, Into the heaven above, Never a"ain to droop or die, But bloom in the light of love; The sun's warm rays, and the shilling deu', Are shapes of an angel band, Who sent to gather the spirit-flowers, Over the grave-turf strand." And silent, the yonng ehild answered not, But knew from that blessed Ijqqc Why she bad gazed and wondered so much At every beautiful flower; And ever in after years, the breath Of the flowers were sweeter tar; They led her up ro the spirit land, Over the shining star. THE DEPARTED. Away in the lonely chureh-yard, Is the grave of one I love ; Whilo flowers around are scattered, And the willow waves above. At eventide, the zephrjrs Play softly o'er the scene, And rays ol northern starlight Peep through the branches green. No sound disturbs the stillness— The quiet is supreme; And the lonely spot seems hofibV Iu the moonlight's mellow gleam. By the graves of lite departed The heart is deepest stirred, And the harp of universal love With the soul's best hopes accord. From the graves of the departed Wo pass with thoughtful face— And vain, and light, and heartless things For holier thoughts make place. Mr. Jefferson on Cubun Annexation. IT is not generally known that Mr. Jeffer son was desirious of the acquisition of Cu*. baby the United States—which object he proposed to effect through (ho Agency of his un-boats, which were ridiculed so unmer cifully by the federalists. The late Com. Rtdgley, of the United Stales navy, informed us, in the year 1837, that having on one oc casion passed the night at lite house of Sam uel Gouverueur in New York, the son in law of Mr. Monroe he observed the next morning a box of papers in his room, whioh proved on examination to be letters from Mr. Jefferson to Mr. Monroe. A portion of thoso letters, by Mr. Uouveneur'es permis sion he examined and found them to con tain a plan drawn up by Mr. Jefferson to ob tain possession of Cuba wheu an occasion should arrive, by transporting an army to Iter shores in a fleet of gun which should take their departure from New York, Charleston and other southern ports. Mr. Gouverneur is now n resident of Virginia, and can probably enlighten the public in re gard to Mr. Jefferson's plan. For one- we should like to see his letters to Monroe on this subject, published The Philosophy of Monticello always kept a watchful eye upon the movements of foreign powers, having a tendancy to effect the interests of this coun try ; and as a mere matter of curiosity it would be gratifying to learn for what pur pose and in what manner he proposed to ef fect tbe annexation of Cuba. THE POOR BOY.— Don't be ashamed, my lad, if you have a patch on your elbow. It is no mark of disgrace. I: speaks well for your industrious mother. For our part, we had rather see a dozen patches on your jack ; et, than hear one prolune or vulgar word ■ escape from your lips. No good boy wilt | shun you, because you cannot dress as well as your companion ; and if a bad buy some ! times laughs at your appearanoe, say noth | ing, my lad, but walk an. We kuow many | a rich and good man, who was once as poor las you. There is our next door neighbor j in particular, (now one of our wealthy men,) who told us, a short time since, that when a | child, he was glad to receive the oohl pota toes from hi* neighbors table. Be good, my boy ; and if you are poor, you wilt bo res- I pected, a great deal more than if you were the son of a rich man, and wer&addicted to bad habits. I mo. A HIST TO BLACXSMITIIS.— The cutting of bars of iron or pipes with the chisel is a laboiioup and tardy process. By the follow-1 ing mode the same end is attained more speedily, easily and neatly. Bring the iron to a white heat, and then, fixing it in a vice, apply the common saw, which, without be-! ing turned on the edge, or injured in any respect, will divide it as easily as if it were a earrotl BP" A down-east editor has got such a cold in his head that the water freezes on pis fade t&hen he undertakes to wash. 01; ~ ~ , ty The lady who wts obliged to talc* chloroform; when the nuptualflmt was tied, ie doing as well as eould be expeetedj 5 '-e-q-v fsdq s? 4.. sill n? Ure txiM*> [Two Dollars per Aim ! DUMBER m .rfirr ii 11 war From the Mining Register. TRU EXtF.ttQCRiUEY. *- The element* of tsoO dbtaae/My, Or* free llotn, equality, Wueaffhn, cbristiandy, and progress. Democracy and freedom are iden lical; or rusher without intellectual nullTnor al as well as political freedom, there ean bo no true democracy. To be a duinoosat, means something more than to be a -ntate adherent of n party,—a passive admirer of a certain form' of government, or even a theo retical believer in the capacity of the people for self-government. By this designation,' we mean one who.e soul is imbued with the spirit of freedom and Independence,— one who believes in the nobility of nature, wlfo respects the individual man, and who scorns all the artificial distinctions and divisions which form and fashion have created in so ciety, and in the world. Our democracy hss no sympathy for much that usurps its name,—not for many who as sume its colors, merely as a cloak to thet, evil designs or unholy aspirations. With tho creatures of faction and fraud—the slaves of party, and the enemies of all civil authority and constituted restraint, we can not fellowship. Theie men ate not doqqp-' crats, though they may claim that title. TVue democracy is taught alike by nature and Christianity, By naturo, in the general laws which govern all her operations, and under which u.l her bies ngs are dispensed alike to lite ignorant and the learned—the wise and the simple—tbe rich and the poor. By Christianity, in that she recogaizes the natural equality of all men, and holds out to each one the same spiritual right and glo rious hopes. These are tho vital dociriaea of the great Teacher,—while to love tfty neighbor as thyself, and do unto others a* you would that they should do mito you, are the sacred injunctions delivered to his fol lowers. Who, then, that revere# the teach ings of nature, or professes the doctrines of Christianity, can scoff at the principles of democracy. Let all democrats be true to themselves and their principles;—let them exhibit the influence-of the latter in their daily walk and conversation, as well as in the ordinary walks of lifij, let them never pencil parly interests, sectarian pidjudice, or personal or business connections, to lead them to do vi olence to the spirit of their political creed, and the world will not be long in determin ing "who is a democrat." Had nine De Stael. Sbe was then as happy in her hkarl as she Was glorious in her genius. She hful two children : a son, who did not display the eclat of his mother, but who promised to have all the solid and modest qualities of a patriot and a good man; and also a daught er, since married to the Duko de Broglie, who resembled the purest and most beauti ful thought of her mother, incarnate in 311 angelic form, to elevate the mind to heaveft, aud to represent holiness in. beauty. While scarcely yet in the middle age of life, ami blooming with that second youth which re news the imagination, that essence of love, Madame de Stael had married the dearest idol ot her sensibility. She loved, and she was loved. She prepared herself to publish her "Considerations on the Revolution," which she had so closely observed, and tho personal and impassioned narraliie of tier "Ten Years of Exile." Finally a book on the genius of Germany (in which she hud poured out, and, as it were, filtered, drop by drop, all the springs of her soul, of her im agination, and of her religion) appeared at the same time in France and Finland, and excited the attention of all Europe. Her style, especially in the work on Germany, without lacking the splendour of Iter youth, Beemed to be imbued with lights more lofty and more eternal, iu approaching the even ning of life and the mysterious shrine of thought. It was 110 longer painting, nor merely poetry ; it was peifect^adorafion; the 11 cense of a son) was inhaled from' its pa ges ; it was "Corinne" become ft priestess, a nd catching a glimpse from the verge of life of the unknown deity, in the remotest horizon of humanity.—About this period she died in Paris, leavingiy bright resplendence in the heart of her age. She was the Jean- Jaques Rousseau of women, but nftre len der, more sensitive, and H>O<s capable of great action than lie was—a genius of (wo sexes, one for thought, and one for love— the most impassioned of women, and tho most masculine of writers, in the same be ing. Her name will live as long as the liter- I aturer and history of her country -Larimrttne. I 13f Some folks think the biggest newspa per is always the best. Wise people these— about as sensible as the fellow who turned % up his nose at your common-sized woman, * and bragged that he meant to have a big ger Wife than any other man within Iwo hundred miles. QT A lady, recently, in speaking of iter husband, who bad failed in the poultry busi ness, said that he had been heavily engaged in mercantile speculations in Turkey, and had been unfortunate. or It is the bubltng spring which flows gently, the little rivulet which runs along, day gnd night by the farm house, that is useful, rather than the swollen flood, or thu warring oataraet. W Currant advice to orators was yog can : t talk sense, talk metaphor." ' S,'