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IK 1 i r-i v v . If If i - A-.v u . 'r 1 Is5 ' ' -J . - I 1 It ' ee aCacDca scoszrna .sxinaLEiii 23.5 23 odest czat23r.cEitE),-GEORGE Washington. ill M. AnV : i liiiW! 1 V J -v I IJ - v t r'V .Vi. ..--7 'fa- J H;W SlittiKS VfL 2 NO. 42 LANCASTER, OHIO, THURSDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 22, 1855 WHOLE NO. 1581 CITY OF LANCASTER. PUBLISHED BVEEY THURSDAY MOKHIKG. TOM $. SLAUGHTER, tlHToR AND fROPRlETQR, Lome. She was always busily employed for her husband and children.in some way er other; and to-day she had been harder at work than usual, ettinff readv for the ho.V'ky to-morrow. She bad just finished all her prera'ioes, and her thoughts were silently tiiflnking u?d for her happy home, r i. . i i f ... i m ana lor an mo messmgs v inu, wncu ium ran in. His face was as white as ashes, FFICK-Old Pb.lc BuUding-8outheit eorner oi an( jlQ con hnrdlv tret Lis WOfds Out: - . 1 Mn hor ma hnv a 4!nno rrat flOWTl: TBRMS-One year In ,Wance,1.,0rn at the P,r: tlenofthe yeer,S4,S0-, Clubs often, S1S,H, Clubs or Sweuly-uro, 30,OU. TERMS OF ADVERT ISIKC One Souare, 10 (ortoss) three Insertions Bach additional weeniea 1 One Sonera Two " Three w One-fourth column One-third " One-half " One Si M Monthi 0,OO ,00 n,oo 14,00 1,IK 95,00 40,00 i 3,(I0 4.00 4,00 , S,0 -" W.00 ,! , 10,0 13,00 i im 30.00 Taarlr aTraera ua mo pmuugo a Bielr artTortliomaiiU. ' , vm i.jm e(,,n , jqnara will fc. rtod, Ut a.H.rtbar, at i,U0 par r, non- .ubicribara will We ckargeo uuu. Tliursday IttorniiiB, Feb. M, The Sun Shines Over AH. Whan topeia heart forsaking .-Co forlU In the open duy, Ai)i watch the auubeami breaking At thj dark clouds roll away; Than mark how they tinge and brighten Each dark apot whoro they full, And thy heart of ach u ro will lighten, For the aun shines over all! ' When thine oycawhh teardrops glisten, And each tender chord is ttlrrod, . Then hie to the woods and listen To the sweet song t the bird; And mark how lie sings contented. As the louv-cs arouud him fall, You'll forgot what you lamented, ' For the aweot birds alng for all. When all you fondly cherlshod Has passed, like a dream away; , '' The lovo you clung to perished, Tho frioudekip known decay: Seek thou the woodlaud flowora, They will all the past recall, And point to happlor hours, For the bright flowers bloom for all. - THE WORSTED STOCKING. 'Who, lad? Thy father?' 'They've forgotten to leave him tho rope,' answered Tom, still scarcely able to speak. liia mother started rip, horror-struck, and stood for a moment as if paralyzed: then pressing her hands over her face, as it to shut out the horrible picture, and breathing ft prayer to God for helf, she rushed oirt of the house. BURNING OF MOSCOW. We wonder if history ever tells the ex act truth. The following article on the burainff of Mo;cow, would mate us think not. We clip from tho'Muscatine (Iowa) Inquirer: Coming up to the boat a few days ago, we happened to fall in company with Sen ator Douglas, who came on board at Quincy, on his way to Warsaw. In the course of a very interesting account of his travels in Russia, much of which has been pub,'b.ed by letter-writers, he stated a fact which lifts never yet been published, but which startinjjly contradicts the received historical relation of one of the most ex traordinary events that ever fell to the lot of history or record. For this reason, the Judge said he felta delicacy in making the ,...-.. t ; l,n, tl, m ..! f If. . H7. . i i i . i i sBi iiuiii wiuv ,. vj rfuvtivw never kvi When she reached the place where her Uurnetfr Kir; The following thrilling adventure is from "an English Magazine: -,: "Father will have done the great chim ney to-niiht, won't ha mother?" said lit tlu Tom Howard, as he stood waiting for his father's breakfast, which ho carriud to , him at his work every mormnsr. . "He said he hoped all the scaffolding x would bo down to-night," answered his mother, -'and that'll be a fine sight, for 1 u never like the ending of these great chim nevs. it's so liskv: thy father's to be the . l ist un." "Eli, then, but I'll go and see him, and help 'em give a shout afore he comes down,' said loin. "And then." continued his mother, "i all !rocs on rijrht, we aro o have a fioli on to-morrow, and ga into the country and -. spend all day amonirst the woods. "Hurrah!" cried Tom, as ho ran off to - his father's nlace of work, with a can of milk in oue hand, and some bread in tho . other. His mothor stood at the door watching i, him, as ho went merrily whistling down the street, and then her heart sought its sure refuge, and she prayed to God to bless and protect her treasures. Tom, witlj a light heart, pursued ins . way to hu father.and.Ieaving him his break fast, went to his own Work, which was at - some distance. ' In the evening, on his way homo, ho , Went round to see how his father was get !. tin'' ou. James Howard, tho faiher, and a number of other workmen, had boon t- buiUins one of those lofty chimneys which fu bur great manufacturing towns, almost supply tho place of other architectural .'beauty. This chimney was the highest and one of the most tapering that had ever '" boen erected; and its Tom, shading his S eyes from the slanting rays of tho sitting sun,' looked up to the top m search of his .father, his heart almost sunk within him - at the appalling-bight. The scaffolding I was almost all down; tho men at the bot torn. were removing the last beams and ' Doles. Tom's father stood alone at the top. Ha looked all around to Bee that ev ',' erything was right, and then waving his j hat in the air, the men answered him be- low. with a long loud cheer, little Tom v shouting heartily as any of them. As their voices died away, however, they heard a very different sound a cry of .' : alarm and horror from above: . . n, t . n.l . . !,. "lue ropei ine ropei ,' The men looked around, and coiled upon ,' 0 " l"e ground, lay the rope, which before the I 7 ' rcanolding was removod, should have been fX " '"tfastened to the top of the chimney, for y I Tom's father to corns down bv. The scaf folding had been taken down, without their remembering to take the rope up. There was a dead silence. They all knew it was 4 impossible to throw the rope up high e- i, or.jBfcimui enougu,io rcauii vuo lup i chimney; or if it could, it would have been safe. They stood in sir yr- - lent dismay, unable to eive any neip, or i Z' think of any means of safety, I,' - '" 'And Tom's father. He walked round f " ; tllie circle, the dizzy hight seeming every . moment to grow more fearful, and the. solid i . earth further and further from him. In husband was at work, a crowd had col locted round the foot of the chimney, and stood there quite helpless, gazing up with faces full of sorrow. 'He says he'll throw himself down,' ex claimed they as Mrs. Howard came up. lhee munna uo that, lad cried Mrs. Howard, with a clear, hopeful voice; 'thee munna do that. Wait a bit. Tak' off thy stocking, lad, and unravel it, and let down tho thread with a bit of mortar. Dost hear me, Jem? Let down one en thread with a bit of stone, and kec of the other,' cried she to her husband. The little thread came waving down tho sido of the chimney, blown hither and thither by the wind; but at last it reached the outstretched hands that were waiting for it. 'Now pull it up slowly,' cried she to her husband, and she gradually unwound tho string as the worsted drew it gently up. It stopped the string had reachou her husband. 'Now hold the string fast, ' and pull it up,' cried she, and tho string grew heavy and hard to pull, lor lorn and his mother had fastened the thick rope to it. ihev watched it gradually and slowly un coiling from tho ground, as tho Etnor was drawn higher. J. here was but one coil left. It had reached tho top. Thank God! Thank God I' exclaimed ti e wife. ; She hid her hands in silent 'prayer, and trembling, rejoice. The ropo was up. Tho iron to which it should bo Listened was there, all right; but would her husband be ablo to make use of them? would not the turrorS of tho past hour have so unnerved him, as to prevent him lrora takiii: necessary measures for his safety? did not know tho mnjric influence which her few words had exercised over him. S'.io did not know the strength that the sound of her voice, so calm and steadfast, had hilled him with as if the little thread th it carried him the hope of life once more had conveyed to him some portion of that faith in God, which nothing ever destroy ed or shook her true heart. She did not know that, as ho waited there, the words came over him. JWhy art thou cast down, 0, my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? Hope thou in God.' She lift ed her heart to God for hopo and strength. She could do nothing more for her hnsband, and her heart turuod to God, and rested on him as a rock. There was a great fhout. 'He's safe,' cried little Tom. 'Thou hast saved me, Mary,' said her husband, folding her in his arms. 'But what ailsthec? Thou scera'st more sorry than jji nd about it.' But Mary would not speak, and if the strong arm of her husband had not held her up, she would have fallen to tho ground sadden joy, alter such a great tear, had overcome her. Tom,' said his father, 'let fhy mother lean on thy shoulder, aud wo will take her home And in their happy home they poured forth their thanks to God, for His great goodness, and their lite together telt dear er and holier tor the peril it had been m, and for the danger that had brought them unto (iod. And the holiday next day, was it not, indeed, a thanksgiving day, Ho said, that previous to his arrival at Moscow, he had several disputes with his guide as to the burning of the city, the guide declaring it never occurred, and seeming to bo nettled at Mr. Douglas' per sistency in his opinion, but on examining the tire-marks around the city, and the city itself, l.e became satisfied that the guide was correct. Tho statement goes on to set forth the , t'. antiquity of the architectural city, partic ' . ulai ily of its six hundred first-class church p a iioid gg girthing through anti-Napoleonic a- ges to Pagan times.and showing the handi work of dillerent nations of history de monstrating that the city was never burnt down (or up.) Tho Inquirer adds: ti, rr -,.,i;. , t ., . f 1 t. dred acres, in tho shape of a fiat-iron, and is enclosed by a wall sixty feet Inch.- Within this enclosure is the most magnif icent palace in Europe, recently built, but constructed over an ancient palace, which remains, thus enclosed, whole and porfect, with all its windows, etc Nearthe Kremlin, surrounded by a wall, is a Ulnnese town, appearing to be several hundred years old, still occupied by de scendautsoi tho original settlers. Tho circumstances which gave ri.e to the error concerning tho burning of Mos- cow, were these: Jtisa city of 450,000 inhabitants, in circular torm, occupying a large space, five miles across. ' There tho winters are six months long; and the eus torn was, and still is, to lay up supplies of provisions and wood to last six months of severe and cold weather. To prevent .'itll I . a . . . - . ". these gigantic supplius from cumbcrin i ltl,n l,Aiiit tif tl.A nitir ami ,.j,f vnnrlar llijim cality, arowofwood houses was construct ed to circle completely round the city, and outsido of these was a row of granaries, and in these wero deposited the whole of tho supplies. Napoleon had entered the city with his army, and was himself occu pying the palace of Kremlin, when one night, by order of tho Russian Governor, every wood-houso and every granary si multaneously burst into a blaze. All ef forts to extinguish them were vain, and Napoleon found himself compelled to march bis army through the fire. Retiring to an eminence he saw the whole city enveloped in vast sheets of names, and clouds of smoke, and apparently all on fire. And so far as he was concerned, it might as well have been, for enough were left to supply every soldier with a room, yet without provision or fuel; and a Russian army to cut oil all supplies, ho and his army could not subsist there. During this tiro somo houses were probably bunit, but the city was not. In the Kremlin a magazine blew up, cracking tho church of Ivan more than a hundred feet up, but set nothing on fire. Mr. Douglns saw the nre-mark around the city, where wood-houses and granaries for winter supplies now stand as of old, but there appears no marks of conflagration within the citv. On the contrary, it bears tho unmistakable evidence ot age Beactt. Let any one look around at tho numerous fond couplos of his acquain tance who are peacefully smiling in each other's faces, in defiance of realities, and the common verdict of mankind, and he must acknowledge that beauty is but a name, and ugliness but a chimera. In ef fect there are no such things. ' Poetry, and novels and romances have made a cer tain combination of auburn hair, blue eyes, Greek noses, and pearl teeth, to be an indispensable part of the material of truo love; but in the commerce of the liv ing world this is sheer nonsense. Depend upon it, that in spite of arbitrary standards, there is no one so ugly who has not bis oglings, bis amorous looks, and languish ing smiles and that somebody or other has tho heart to relish and return them. Nay, beauty itself choses ugliness for its mate, without thinking it ugly. Look at Mr. and Mrs. 1'. . How balsamic is such a union to us that are ugly. We mean not to utter a word in disparagement of beauty, but we see no harm in extend ing its empire by multiplying its attributes. A man may have a just sense of all that is essentially, and by universal assent, most lively and yet, under some inexplicable. illusion, til Lis own final choice upon fea tures that no one thinksngrecable but him' self. He may make his quotations from twenty established belles-drink to the tyr anny of all the reigning tonsts and then go and surrender up his soul forever to a mouth nwrv, and teeth divinely not in rows. This is ns it should be. By such by laws as these, nature elicits harmony from the jaring elements of the world; thus, amidst all her seeming inequalities aud inconsistencies, by a series of kindly compensations, the assimilates all condi tions, ond provides means for makmgevery one contented and happy. The Tirate and the Dove. The fol lowing is related by Audubon, the cele brated traveler and ornithologist: 'A man who was once a pirate, assured me that, at times, while at certain well: dug in tho burning, shelly sands of a well known key, which must bo namclefs, tho soft and melancholy notes of the dove a woke in his breast feelings which had long slumbered, melted his heart to rcpentence, and caused him to linger at the spot in stale of mind which he only who compares the wietcheduess of guilt within him with the holiness of former innocence, can truly feel. Ho said he never left the place with out increasing fears of futurity, associated na he was, although I believe by foroc, with a baud of the most desperate villains that ever annoyed the coast of Florida. So deeply moved was he by the note of any bird, and especially those of the dove, tho only soothing sounds he ever heard during his litcot horrors, that through these plain tive notes and them alone, he was indeed to escape from his vessel, abandon his turbulent companions, and return to a fam lly deploring his absence. Alter paying a hasty visit to these wells and listen once more to the cooing of the Zenaida dove, he poured out his soul in supplication for mer cy, and once more became what one has said to be tho noblest work oi uoa an honest man. His escape was effected mid difficulties nnd dangers, but no dan ger seemed to be comparablo with the dan ger of living in violation ot human and divine laws; and he now lives in peace in the midst of friends. ti if 4impossil A- nough, tJ v of the c ; hardly 1 yr. lent dis: Illu8tkation of Ionorance. Mr. Wen dell Phillips, of Boston who has travelled in Europe, states the iollowing facts: 'In Italy you will seo a larmer breaking up his ground with two cows and a root of a tree for a plow, while he is dressed in skins with the hair on. In Komo, Vienna and Dresden, if you hire a man to saw yout wood, he does not bring a horse. He never had one, nor his father before him. But ho places one end of the saw on the ground and the other against his breast, and taking the wood in his hands, he rubs it against the saw; and he will be all day doing two hours' work. It is a solemn fact, that in Florence, a city filled with tri umphs of art, there is not a single auger, and if a carpenter would bore a hole, he does it with a red hot poker! This results not from want of industry, but ot sagacity of thought. . In Rome, charcoal is pnnci- be Consciousness and Revelation. "You lemember the custom of ancient hospitali ty. Before parting with a stranger, the father of the family, breaking a piece of clay on which certain characters were im pressed, gave one half to tho stranger, and kept the other himself. Years after, these two fragments, brought togothor and fe ioined, acknowledged each other, so to speak, formed a bond of recognition bo tween those presenting them, and in at testing old relations, became at tho same time the basis of new. So in the book of our soul does tho Divine Revelation unito itself to the old traces there. Our soul does not discover, . but recognizes the Truth. It infers that a reunion (rencoun tre) impossible to chance impossible to calculation can only bo the work and se cret of God; and it is then only that we believe then when the Gospol has for us passed from tho rank of external to the rank of internal truth, and, if I might say so, of instinct when it has become in us part and parcel of our consciousness.' During A TtciiTTTiriTi. Compliment. pally used for fael.and you will see a string ty re(,ent -1neS8 0f jonatbaa Yalo Clark, one of the oldest and most esteemed ciliz- of twenty mules bringing little sacks of it unon their backs, when one mule would draw it all in a cart. But the charcoal vender never had a cart, and so he keeps his twenty mules and feeds them. ens of Pittsfield, a poor old man came all the way from the montain, and thrust his head in at the door, and inquired of tho daughter in attendence: "Is Yale Clark here?" "Ho is-;- ."Is he sick?" "He is." "Is he very sick?" "He is considered dangerous." Well, I don't know who yon be, but I stopped to 2Tln view of the great revival in re ligion now progressing in Harrisburg, Pa., r mind, and his senses almost failed him. the Philadelphia Argus indulges a hope i ' L . ' . . . ea . I ,1 a 'a. L 4 1 A - il. 11 t Ua ahllr hit ATTOD HA tal I f BB it tlla flaairT. tllAa I tllHI II, TT1H V HVP.n RXLHIKI LCI LI1H rHIlllBVlTll" i.- kJjeai nm ih n.i Taaff.ft1at.iirA. nrtw in fiPRRinn at that tell ve.tbat vououffht to lay him on cush 1X13 Ilk UO Uiuot iyg voouu w vi uw !-" r' " I ; . . - ' '.' ground below. Y ' ! place, in which hope he is greatly encour- ions of velvet, and take the oesi care 01 The day passeaas inausinousiy ana as agea, iumiuuuu aimuaiuai ouiuug i v.-..6 . --- --j---- , wiftly as usual, with Tom's mother at I in the Maryland Penitentiary. . ... kindness to the poor, -Boston Traveler. JtSTllere is a beautiful sentence from the pen of Coleridge. Nothing can moro eloquent, nothing more true: Call not thntman wretched who, what ever else he suffers, as to pain inflicted or pleasure denied, has a child for whom he hopes nnd on whom he doats. Poverty may grind him to the dust, obscurity may cast its dark mantle over him, his voice may bo unheeded by those among whom ho dwells and his face may be unknown by his neifflibors even pain may rack his joints, and sleep flee from his pillow, but he has a gem with which he would not part for the wealth defying computations, for fame filling a world's ear, for the high est power, for the-sweetest sleep that ever fell on mortal's eye.' The Man who dares to do Right. That man who can stand in the breach of universal public censure, with all tho fash ions of opinion disgrncing him, in the thoughts of the lookers on with the tide of obloquy beating against his breast, and the fingers of the mighty, combined many, pointing him to 6Corn, nay, with tho fury of the drunken rabble threatening him with instant death, and, worse than all. having no present friend to whisper a word of defence or palliative in his behalf to the rnvilcrs but bravely giving his naked head to tho storm, because he knows him sr-lf to ba virtuous in his purpose: that man shall come forth from the fiery ordeal like tried gold. Philosophy shall embalm his name in her richest unction. History shall give him a place on her bright est page, and old, yea, hoary far off poster ity shall remember him ns of yesterday! Giving a Hint. A young lady once hinted to a gentleman that her thimblo was worn out.and asked what reward she should receive for her industry. He sent her a new thimble, with the following lines: "I send you a thimble for Angers nimble, ' Which 1 nop will St when yo try It; It will last you long, If Ua half as strong As the htpl which yoa gare me to buy H." The Agt of tbe World. A question of great importance with di vines and men of science at the preset day. i is that of the age of our planet, and the different changes which have taken place upon it, at related in Genesis. One elass contend that the different acts of creation took place exactly as described in the first chapter of Genesis, in six solar days, and that all things were made out of nothing in that time. Another class believe thai our planet was in existence for thousand" of years prior to tho first net recorded in Genesis, that it had undergonevast chan ges, and that it had been long in confus ion, and was bereft of live, when the com mand went forth "Let there be light." This class also believed that the success ive acts described in Genesis took place in six common days, furnishing the woild with the exact orders of creation at, there described. Another class believe that the successive acts of creation mentioned in dencsis, took place in the exact or der there described, but that instead of the days there mentioned being solar days, they wero indefinite periodt of time some of them of great length per haps sixty thousand years. This latter lass embrace thegreatestnumber of learned geologists and divines. In the last num ber ot the JSMiotheca oacra, the Kev. John 0. Means, of East Medway, Mass presents Ins views at great length on this ubject, and takes the latter view of the question, namely, that the days mentioned in the first chapter of Genesis, if interpret- d to mean indefinite periodt of time would reconcile both science and the Scriptures in every particular, lie employs some strong arguments in favor of this view of tho question. Thus, the sun, moon, and stars, are said to be created on the third day, therefore, the two previous days ould not be one of our solar days, em bracing one revolution of the earth on its axis in twenty-four hours, with the sun to rule the day and the moon to rule the night. This argument is incontrovertible. But what was4he causo of tho light before the sun was created. He sees no difficulty in this. He says, "the mateiial universe is full of light, ready to be worked at a word. Chemical action on a vaster scale than man can follow.Jis taking place every moment, floods of light are poured lorthv Combus tion is attended with light as well as heat." "It may sound strange," he again says, "to say that the most intense light is to be found not on the earth, but in it. The whole of the sun's rays which reach the earth gathered te a focus, would not be so ntensely light as the centre ot the globe.- It stems pretty certain that within the crust of the earth, is a globe oi fire, at least two thousand miles in diameter." This opinion costs neither him nor any man of science anything whether it be true or false, but ho departs from reason and logic, by endeavoring to establish one hy pothesis by setting up another. There are no positivo proofs of the earth beinga crusted ball of fire. We are not depend ent on the sun for light, ns he has clearly stated, but he does not seem to understand its true theory. It is produced by the vi brations of a subtile medium diffused throughout space. Our planet is self lu minous, but in a degree less so than the sun, for there is one glory of the 6un, an other of the moon, and another of the earth. Man's eyes are constructed to see objects only by agreat quantity of intense light; but some beasts and fowls have their eyes constructed to range the forest and field by night as freely as man does dur inrr dav. while durin? sun-licht ther can scarcely sec at all. A tribe of Africans al so the Bosicsman remain in their eaves during day; and search tor their tood dur ing night. From habit, we presume, they have become noctnrnal roamers men-owls thus showing that natural light belongs to our planet; the unceasing throbbings of its particles produce continual light; this was the way, no doubt, that light was pro duced in the early days of the earth. Hugh Miller brings forward somo strong argument in favor of the great age of our planet, and mentions a number of geologi cal changes requiring tens of thousands of years to accomplish, which could not have taken place in the short period of six thou sand years, as is believed by those who ad here to the solar six days interpretation cf the Genesis narrative of the creation, cir Charles Lycll believes that it must have taken 67,000 years to form the delta of the Missippi, and 35,000 years for the Niagara nvcr, to torm us present cnannei irora tne Falls to Queenstown.Nearly all theemincnt geologists believe this, Bnd they consider they have facts to prove it, so strong, that thev cannot be gainsayed. Mr. Means reasons strongly to prove that the meaning of the word day in the first chapter of Genesis is an indefinite period of time, and makes out a very strong case in favor of tho world being perhaps a million years of ae. nccordingto the Mosaio account of creation. Scientific American. Fran the Springfield Kepol-Uaaja. HEW ENGLAND. Ool Waar, Oct., ISM. To Onr Folks at lime. Raw England! aye, lfew iglaedl I eome from there. I gaeea, Aa4 so I think that I may say Its ejelM a likely place; 'Tie true tbe atones era pretty thick, the bUla are pretty high. Bat tbeo tbe aat are pretty smart, the hoys oaeoos- moa spry. Aad thea tbe girts, O dear aae saxl I think they cast be beat, I'd rather have a smack from ess than sat the tariiVaiani SPEAK KINDLY. Br ACorsTA moo ax. Close your lips over it let it not get on its vie roisvion that harsh, ungentle word. Shut yoar teeth tighter as it strug gles for egiess, for it is bent on mischief. No doubt, 'lis bard work to master the headstrong thing. A mouthful of unkind words is the very hardest thing to swallow, thatcan be thought of; but 'lis far belter to swallow them, even at tbe great risk of snest choking in the act, than to spittbem out. Ti:i -.. . r . . , . buiiae oiner ioui places, wtncn may be emptied and cleansed, the place wbers bard words are nursed into life becomes only the fuller of them, the more they are cllowed to flow out. Let bat the first un kind word escape your lipsand there is no telling where the eruption will end. Ah! if old and young would only lire, even half way, up to tbe "golden rule" or to the precept of that sweet song of child hood's days "Let lore through all your astioaeran. And all yaor words be mild. how much misery, bow many bitter pangs of suffering would be spared to all! Pleas ant words are a perpetual sunshine; and the sweet flowers of meadow and mountain side may as well be expected to grow and thrive when transplanted to a cavern, as the flowers and blossoms of the soul, influ enced by this light and warmth, which play over the countenance, and strike down into the heart. And pleasant words are cheap; smiles are not costly. Tbe giving of them does not impoverish; the face over which they pass is not paler and sicklier, it is even more beautiful and beloved. Pleasant words enrich; for while they brighten and cheer him to whom they are spoken, they reflect gladness also on him who utters them. How much more blessed the life of one who is conscious of having scattered smiles and kind words about biro than of tbe harsh and morose man, whose words are The hoary head Is honored there youth will Dot age like the fabled toads and serpents, which. uespise dropped from tlie lips of the selfish beauty For there Ctwat so wheal was young) they Isara the of oJ td whi(.h cused a mist and S hor- wheal; They eery early learn to splj, sad bake and brew sad sew, And eaake ths very beat of vires, (there's that aoss, i snowj. And there la Plymota Hock, yoa know, lae echoo house sod tbe mill, And tbere you'll flul the met tin' bouse, snsl there Is BuiAtr Hill; And tbere the men in olden time determined to be free. For that was what they fought abost, and Dot the pound of tea. Tbe cattle browse upon tas hills, sad And good pick ing too, Ferlabor'astsrdysnals there, and that will put it ti.ro ugh; Tla. tbere the corn suet pumpkins grew, and there they raise the beans. And all the folks that lore to work sea lira like kings and queens. Tbe men both hold and drive the plow, and by the plow they thrire, They want no sluggards la the SeM, so drones within the hire; Who will not toil mast Barer sat, saca soa sad danghter feela, The rery streams are mads te work and tun the fac tory wheels. To cultivation of the soil the farmer's not confined, He takes the weekly newspaper and cultivates the mind: The boya and girls, so rosy -cheeked, are brigh as well as merry. They study Webster's Spelling Book, sad bay the Dictionary. O that's tbe land of alnglng-echools, of sppls-bees, aud sich, And there wben boys get off the Iras, their father! use the wiitk catechise. nighty These Western folks may talk about their streams and pralrea. But forthe butter to their bread they aeed Kew Eng land daries; . Of "cattle on a thousand hllla"thsy ne'er sessed, For Saddle Back U big enough for all the hills oat West. Her pork ifllnked In sasauageaand madelnto a ehaln, Would reach, like Puck's, around the globs and half way back again; Ber hundred acre fields of wheat, sod corn so mon- atroua tall. By these the nations might be fed, but thea tbstls'nt all: When in the pleasant Sabbath mora the waring har vest swells. The emigrant would like to bear Kew England's Sun day bells; And when they want for school-ma'ams they must Cor, ornor Slade employ To get s drove of Vermont girls to bring to Illinois. And then the school-house ten to one is many miles . v ror of great darkness wheraver they fall. Alone at tbe Judgment. There is no escape, alone, or in tbe bepoe- crowd at the judgment day. It is not a multitude amid which we may bide our selves and escape notice. At that tribunal, each man will be as transparent before tbe searching eye of the son of (iod, as U that man and Jesus were tbe only twain in the whole universe, such will be the intense light of that day, that one reason whv the lost will call out for the hills to cover them and the mountains to overshadow them. will be, that they can not bear the intensity of that searching andunutterablesplendor; and such will be the dread silence of that moment, that each man will hearj he Tery pulsations of his own heart if that heart be . . ... , ., unregenerate.each pulse will sound a aeaui- knell to bis hopes and prospects for ever. There is noescapfl in the crowd; there n no Andaotha flaxen-headed ones most stav at home and escape OJ weaiui; mere i uucscnuo ur wi- ntai; ent, there is no escape any way; for "how. Or while the mother boils the pot they roam around I if we neglect so great a salvation,"says the apostle, as satished that there is no escape whatever, 'Ishallwe escape!" Urxum- ming.J Prosperity and Adversity. The virtue of prosperity is temperance; the virtae ofadversity is fortitude. I'ros- of hills. Peri,y is tlie D,essino of 1,16 01(1 Testament .mi adversity is the blessing of the New. which carrie th the greater benediction and the clearer revelation of God's favor. Yet, pvon in the Old Testament, if you listen to When loving circles clustsr round-I wish I wa. to David's harp, you shall hear as many ."am- jansnian. hearse.ike air8 el-;s; anrJ the pencil of The Mental Faculties. the Holy Ghost hathHabored more in de i Tl, M,r;. f,'t;. ., times r,w scrioing me auiicuous oi ou umu wlc S. Alia ' K " w, , f, , tt ... ..j :.t. : Hemes oi ooioraon. rrospeniv is uoi wnicu we Decome acuuaiuieu wun iuee- .,- , , ,. - , , . . j ?c.i , i u without many fears and distastes; and ad- I ... i. ; nni mr.thnnt Mmtnrts nnrl hniWL . , ,.,.,. .cion, uvw - . - - - -1 2. Consciousness is me .acuity Dywmcn w - - noo,nonmrl.- nrl pmhroideries we become cognizant oi the operations oi ... m . i,. . i;eiw worv our own minds. . wt nnrl nnlemn mound: therefore 3. Original suggestion is the faculty 0fthe nliasure of the heart by the pleasure which gives rise to origni-1 ideas, occasion- 0f jje eye. Certainly, virtue is like pre- ed by the perceptive ucuitiesor conscious- C,0U8 0dorS most iragrant where iney are ness. incensed or crushed: for prosperity aotn 4. Abstraction is tho facnlly by which, best discover vice, but adversity dotu best from conceptions of individuals, we form discover v;r.ue. J-v'd iaeon. mnron'.iiins nf rreneral and srecies: or. in I . - . I a r.d... Sl,a. general of classes. -"""" 5. Memory is the faculty by which we I The eye-snake, so called from a suppos retain and recall our knowledge; of the J ed habit it has of striking cattle in the eys past. ' when grazing.is without exeeption.the most T : fAllw h twV.1, frnm hpniltlhl flnQ leaSl rCDUISlve Ul "aao.- II , bU3Ull ID VI. C. l I . , J J u.v..,.aw. I , , . . , . at. t i.A imAwinii.vA Kf;-i Tt .iihniit four feet loiitr.ot tne Driffnies- other faculties, we are enabled to proceed to grass green; tho intense green of an tn- glisn meaaow in eany suuimc.. thin and graceiui in lismoveinrm, and plague ber, Or hovering in the corner ait, a shaking with the ager. Kew England: aye, 5sw Englaadl my glory sad my boast. Adowa thy hills, when l'ssboy,0 how I seed tocoast; Thy pleasant flelde of living green, methlnks I see them now, And I upon my father's farm a riding horse to plow, Thou art the land of liberty, of valleys end A land of men where thought is free of brooks and running rills; Tla there they keep Thanksgiving days sad like to have them come, Earlt Piett. It is storied of Hani bal that when he could have taken Rome, he would not, and when he would have ta ken it, he could not. And is this not the case with many? When they may find Christ, they will not seek him; and when thev would seek Christ, they can not find him. When they may have mercy, they do not prize it: and when they would have mercv. they can not obtain it. He that in his youth reckons it too early to be con verted, shall in his old age find it too late to be saved.-JfaWew Jliad. other and original knowledge, 7- Imagination is that faculty by which, from materials alreadyexistingin the mind, we form complicated conceptions or men tal images, nccording to our own will. ","VW,0WWT one in- recognize the beauties ana aeiormuies oi ---- . - , .-re,,..!. nature or art. deriving pleasure from the " y at your m .. - W UIOI . iiiin'" ' 9 tion with which it mingles. , , .1,,,,,,-rV, 1-orr rnnid when moving, it 18 SO instantaneously rigid when alarmed, and adapts itself so wonderfully to the shape and hue of the grass or reeds among which Snake Bites. one. and suffering pain from the other. Ur. wayiand. A Catholic priest in Manchester, 2SV II., rofncerl tn hantiza a child, because its fath- Whisky or other alchoholic stimulants er desired that its name should be Frank- drank to intoxication, in most instances, .; t. .OIjnded too much like an Amen or. when practicable, tie a bandage tight a- Bj too little like that of a Catholio ... 1 1 ! . 1 A - . A I J 1 - 41 .. 1 . e Ssa-A.l.-. round the wounoeu nmo, to re.ara me uow gaint So S8y8 tbe father in a letter to wa of the poison witn me oiooa 10 me iiearu, yorK Evening l'ost. give a tabtespoonm. o. par. .t- . . .tains from cloth, the every halt hour unu, " moment the ink is spilt take A liUl. time rut, the same ou on ana u , np with wuuuu. J t . i;nu mora mlllf. ran. i a rag. ssuu . --j- - sill kesr ki,w it wall in. In s few minutes the Ink - I tJ- . . , J will be completely removeu. Keep thy shop and thy . shop thee." ' '