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OURNAL i Volume III. She m 0MraL luYW. J. SLATTEB. Pledie U Prty' arbitrary wr, We fbllu Trath where'er Ue leads I he wj .' Tub Titlu op Professor. There is a most ridiculous practice now-a days, of giving the title of Professor to ev-eryjack-a-napes who has had the good fortune to take a peep into u collcgo window. It matters not however in significant and underserving the per-.-sonages who bear the title, still you Shear nothing but Professor so and so, 'Until the very title has become almost m disgrace, rather than an honor. Wc 'understand that one of these titled fpersonages not a thousand miles away 'having made application for a sheep rskin, was passing an examination for his degree, when failing upon every subject upon which he w is tried, he complained that he had not been questioned upon tho things whi ' he knew. Upon which, the examining master tore off about an inch of paper and pushing it towards him, desired h'm to write upon that, all he knew. He had to make off for parts unknown and forge the name of Professor. The fables which appeal to our higher moral sympathies may some times do as much for us as tho truth of science. New Atlantic 'JYleurapii. The Paris correspondent of the Boston Journal says that in an interview a few days since with several English capitalists, the Emperor expressed his confidence in the proposed laying of a telegraphic cable between France and America, the termination of which is to bo the city of Boston. The compa ny is being formed, and the whole affair will be carried into execution us rapidly as possible. The cost of construction and equip ment of the railroads in the United States, amount to $1.0511,0(55,870, or enough money to break down any other country in the world. There is a gentleman in New Orl eans, a merchant and a planter, and, we regret to add, a bachelor, whose income this year will reach the hand some sum of five hundred thousand dollars, who, twenty-four years ago. was a clerk with a salary of fifty dol lars a monjji. Two fasVygung men formed a part nership in Boston, Mass., for the pur- poso of doing a retail business, and opened two stores in different parts of the city one partner in each. Their plan Was crafty, for customers would visit one of the stores, ascertain the price of an article, and on stating that it could be purchased elsewhere for u less sum, woul 1 be told that there was but one place in Boston where it could be done, and that was the store of (the other partner) who undersold goods to the infinite disgust of the en tire trade. The same process was carried on at the other store, and the consequence has been that botli to gether, each playing into the other's hands, have done an immense business and realized large profits. The Memory op a Good Mother. How often when (he syren voice of the tempter whispers in the ear of the frail child of mortality, the words, aye, the very voice-tones, of warning are remembered and the snare broken. Long grass may be grown over the hallowed spot where all that earihfy reposes, tho dying leaves of autumn i may bo whirled over it, or the chill ' white mantle of winter cover it from pight; yet the spirit of such a mother is always by the side of him when walking the right path, and gently sadly, mournfully calling to him when wandering off into the dull paths 'of ; error and crime. t "Daniel Webster's Wooing. A cor respondent of the Boston Courier tells , jhow Daniel Webster proposed to Grace jFletchr : Mr. Webster married the woman r bo loved, and the twenty years ho liv- ed with her brought him to the merid ian of his greatness. An anecdote is current on this subject, which is not ; recorded in the books. Mr. Webster vras becoming intimate with Miss firace Fletcher, when the skein of silk . getting in a knot, Mr. Webster assis t ted in unraveling the snarl then look ing up to Miss Grace, he said : " VYe Lave untied a' knot; don't you think we could tie one?" Grace was a little embarrassed, said not a word, but in the'eourse of a few minutes she tied it knot in a piece of tape, and handed it to Mr. W. Thjs piece of tape, the thread of his domestic joys, was Lund puer i no ueam u rar, neDsier, pre served as one of bis most precious relic--" f By railway accidents in the United fitates in in 1853, there were killed one hundred and eight persens, and in Jured wo hundred and Jweofy-nine.j FASHIONABLE FRIENDS. About the hardest trial of those who fall from affluence and honor to poverty and obscurity, is the discov ery that the attachment of so many in whom they confided was a pretence, a mask, to gain their own ends, or was a miserable shallowness. Sometimes, doubtless, it is with regret that these frivolous followers of the world desert those upon whom they have fawned, but they soon forget them. Flies leave the kitchen w hen the dishes are empty. The parasites that cluster about the favorite of forlune, to gath er his gifts and climb by his aid, linger with tho sunshine, but scatter at the apnroach of a storm, and the leaves cling to the tree in summer weather, but drop off at tho breath of winter, and leave it naked to the stinL'inir "blast. Like ravens settled down for a banquette, and suddenly seared by noise, how quickly, at the first sound of calamity, these superficial earth lings are specks on the horizon I But a true friend sits in the centre, aW is for all limes. Our need only reveals him more fully, and binds him more closely to us. Prosperity and adversity are both revealers, the dif ference being that in the former our friends know us, in the latter we know them. Notwitstnndiiig tho insinceri ty and greediness prevalent among them, there is a vast deal more of es teem and fellow yearning than is even outwardly shown. There are more examples of unadulterated affection, more deeds of silent love and mag nanimity, than is usually supposed. Our misfortunes bring to our side re.tl friends, before unknown. Benevolent impulses, where, we should not expect them, in modest pri vacy enact many a scone of beautiful wonder amidst plaudits of angels. And upon the whole, fairly estimating the glory, and the uses, and the actual and possible prevalence of the friend ly sentiment, we must cheerily strike the lyre and lift our voice to the favor ite song, confessing after every com pliment is ended, that There is a power lo miiko each hour As swuul an Heaven designed it; Nr lice. I wo rotiui to bring it home, Though few t hero be to find it ! Wo seek too hi:d) fur things close by, Ami loose whnl nature found us; For lifct hiith hero no chiirmsso dear, As hunieoiid Iriunds around us. A Faiii.k. A young man once pick ed up a sovereign lying in the road. Ever afterward as he walked along, he kept his eye steadfastly fixed on the ground, in hopes of finding another. And in the course of a long life lie did pick up at different times a good amount of gold and silver. But till these days as he was looking for them he saw not that heaven was bright above him, and nature beautiful around. He never once allowed his eyes to look up from the mu I and filth in which he sought the treasure; and when he died, a rich old man, he only knew this fair earth of ours as a dirty road to pick up money as you walk along. Skcond-iianu Si.anuku. There is a decision in thu last, voluan: of Gray's Reports which is at once sound mor als and good law. A woman, sued lor slander, was defended on the ground that she only repeated, and without, malice, what was currently reported. The Court held, that to re peat a story which is f tlse and slan derous, no matter how widely it may have been circulated, is at the peril of the talc-hearer. Slander cannot al ways be traced to its origin. Its pow er of mischief is derived from repeti tion, even if a disbelief of the story accompanies its relation. Indeed, this half doubtful way of imparting slan der is often the surest method resorted to by the slanderer to give currency lo his tale. No Wonder! A Japanese nobleman, upon being shown a fashion plate in an American magazine, was much startled, and exclaimed : "How very fat your women are!" We learn that Mr. Trust is dead, and that Bad Pay killed him. It has been said that a merchant who docs not advertise is like a man who has a lantern but is too niggardly to buy a candle for it. Miss, can I have the exquisite pleas ure of rolling the wheel of conversa tion around the axeltree of your un. derstanding a few minutes this even ing? The lady fainted. If you love others they will love you. If ydu speak kindly to thein they will peak kindly to you. Love is repaid with love, and hatred with hatred. Would you hear a sweet and pleasing echo, speak fweetly and pleasantly yourself, WINCIIESTKIt, TlCISriS"., FEBRUARY 3, 1859 Written fur tho Winchester Home Journal. "BUSINESS TRANSACTIONS." BV MRS. EMILIK C. 3. CHILTON. If o mnn la poor forsaken If his heart is almost breaking 'Neath its land of woes, Raise your foot and boldly strike him, Pity not poor wretchos, like him, Wearing shabby clothes ! If lie asks you for employment, Scorn to give him such onjoymont ; Save it for some other Keep it for the man of dollars, Broadcloth com ami linen collars Man should help a brother If the poor niiiu breaks his fetter, Helped by fools who know no bettor, All your contempt mocking, Strive your luminal to del em him, Wheedle, co;i., then rob and client him, That's the "business doctrine." If hi; fulls, and sinks to ruin, Surely it was not your doing, Never sco nor heed it ; Raise your hands in prayer to Heaven, Woo to man on earth was given, And all pour wretches ncud it! If ho triumphs in tho struggle, Then your sunshine smiles redouble; Hasten to assure him "Hero's my heart ami here my purse is;" If hu never needs your services Slick the closer lo him! When you're dead ond onguls reading Uul youl sins, then raised lha pleading, "Twas business t runs act tuns ;" Freely then they'll mercy lend you Freely pardon freely send you To Hades' wild distractions! There lifi up your eyes and see, sir, That pour man from sin set free, sir, Blessed mid rich indeed! Think how you relieved his sorrow What y iu loaned when ho would burrow Hope in biltcr Jieed. Call lo mind those oilier cases Breaking hearts, an I tearful faces, The maniac's distractions , Happy homes e'en now in ruin Work that's day by day accruing By "fiir business transact ions." HOW TO M A K li 1 1 0 M li 1 1 A V 1' V . Do Hot jest, with your wife upon ;i subject in which there is danger of wounding her feelings. Remember that she treasures every word you ut ter, thourh you never think of it iiirain. I )i ii i a wi w;i I.- Winn.. i r! nr. in n in 1 1 ti . I" " er man's wife to remind your own of a fault. Do not approach your wife with personal defects, for if she has sensibilities you inflict a wound ililli eult lo heal. Do not treat your wife with inattention in company. Da not upbraid her in the presence of a third person, iioi-ciitcrtnin her with praising the beauty and accomplishments of other women. If you would have a pleasant home and a cheerful wife, pass your evenings under your own roof. Do not be stem ami silent in your own house, and remarkaMc for w transcendantly beautiful!-the 'sociability elsewhere. Remember : " of righteousness-shall that your wife has as much nee.l of bathe thy happy -pint in his beams! recreation as Yourself, and devote a ! lhmealh her slept, m dream-like portion, at least, of your leisure hours j -auly. the 'hih. faraway to such society and amusements asj'"""5 '''"' 1'" litlll! mountain's she ...ay join. By so doing, you will i ws "'itl. the hues of the secure her smiles and increase. j '"y tinted aulumu. No sound d.s" ..(!.. ,.;..,. ri i... i...:.... I ttirbed tilt! Sabbath stillness of the till I. Ulli'll. Jii liwi, 11 l.i'lll IUU I AilUL iii iii'i.iini.'ii'v in.-. if. .rv mi. l.i. linn. ,. , feel her dependence on your bounty. It' she is a sensible woman, she will be accounted with your business and know your income, that she may reg ulate her house expenses accordingly. Do not withhold this knowledge in or der to cover your own extravagance Women have a keen perception be sure she will discover your selfishness and though no wonl is spoken, from that moment her respect is lessened, and couliileiiee diminished, pride wounded, ami perhaps a thousand un just suspicions created; from that mo ment is your domestic comfort on the wane. There can be no oneness where there is not full confidence. A IIioii ani Di:si::ivk: Co.mi'I.im::nt. The Memphis Bulletin pays the fol lowing high, but richly deserved com pliment to that despised, but po.verful influence, the Coijsthy Prcss. It says, have seen in little country news papers prose articles of genuine merit articles in which were displayed the highest order ol capacity, ami yet, beyond the narrow circle ol a county, where, perhaps, they were not and could not be appreciated, were never read, nor even heard of. We open every week in our ollice country pi pers, whoso editorials would adorn the great city papers ami make their reputation. But they pass away after being glanced over, and are seen no more There is a great amount of talent in tho country that could be made the basis ofiiplendid reputation. But it wants a theater for display.. Like the cold steel, it must be smitten to produce tire It is modest, timid, and retiring, ami lives in oblivious shades while contemporaneous and arrogant ignorance takes the lead in all public matters and gathers all the laurels to be wun. Look at (he second and third class of conspicuous men among us. What they lack in capac ity they make up in an article com monly called 'brass.' They have stepped in where the highest capacity feared to tread. They reap honors, emoluments, while the timid children of genius, like the glow-worm, shine in obscurity, and go wantinz all their days. He will indeed be a benefactor I who shall teach true merit how to he courageous." (fukvUU New, THE BROKEN-HEARTED. "His heart is another's!" sighed a fair young girl as she bent listlessly over the broad window sill on her cot tage home, and gazed on tho silent lake that slumbered beneath her. The gentle moon looked down upon her sad face, as if in in pity for the sor rows of the young and beautiful. "Mis heart is another's; he claims her as his bride and I am forsaken. Oh, who would have dreamed that a few brief months of absence would have come to this!" In her hand was an open letter which told of her lover's treachery. As it caught her cyu a sud den fire burned upon her cheek, and her beautifully curled lip trembled with scorn, such as only woman fuels when her heart's best treasure has been spmned by him she loved and trusted. But revenge was foreign to her gentle nature. By degrees the flush of anger faded away, and gave place to expressions ol'despair so calm and yet bo unutterably mournful, it was plain the heart of the maiden was broken, and the light of her young life was darkened forever. From that hour she drooped like a sweet liily blighted by an untimely frost. She was the only child of a widow ed mother, and had been a sun beam of joy to her withered heart; hut now she was paling away, and desolation and gloom brooded over that little household. Mouths glided by. Winter, with its rude blast, was ended; Spring, with its llowers, had come and gone; .Sum mer, with his long and weary days, hail toiled lazily along, and the passing year was fading into the sober tints of Autumn. In that little cottage, near the quiet lake, the young girl was dy ing. Her features though sunken and emaciated, were still lovely; and her eye beamed with that unearthly beau ty so ofter seen in the early blighted. The sun was sinking in a bank of gol den clouds, whose reflected light shed I a f I h jilory over the declining day. Its mellowed beams were streaming into the little casement, and resting on the face of the dying, "liaise me, dear mother," she whispered, "raise mi! a little; let me view the fair earth once more. That will do, dearest mother." She looked out upon the crimson sun light. 'Beautiful ! Oh, how beautiful!" Sweet girl ! thou shall never again In hold its rising. Long ere the morn ing dawns thy suffering will be over; and another sun, far brighter, and oh ! seem, save the faint murmur of a waterfall that emptied its tiny stream let into the lake, and the low music of the wind as it sighed through the old wood; while ever and anon, a rustling leaf w heeled in slow and circling ed dies lo the ground. Her eye rested on a weeping willow that fringed the border of the lake. Above all others it had been her favorite tree, for be neath its pendant branches Harry Wil mot had breathed his first vows of love ami there, too, they had spent their last s id hour of parting. "Oh, had he been but true!" and a single tear drop trembled in her eye, and stole down her palid check, U was the last tribute of earthly sorrow and regret. "When I am gone, ilcar nu ther, bury me beneath you willow." And now, as her pah', calm face reflected back the softened sun set, she seemed as if her dreaming f-pirit had already caught, far, far through the glowing drapery of the sky, glimpses of that ever-during light which gleams from glowing portals of the glad city whith er she was going. And solily they laid her back upon her pillow A calm and holy light is on her brow, and on her lip is a smile of inef fable sweetness. Gently, gently the pure spirit of the broken-hearted is passing away Bring the white shroud and the (lower-decked coffin; for the sorrows of her innocent life are ended, and Is abel Summers is un angel of Paradise A crown is on her head, a golden hnrp is in her hand, and she is striking the sweetest notes that ravish tho ears of cherubims. And in that little cottage there is a voice of lamentation, a mother weeping for her only beloved, and refusing to he comforted. And the village heart is sad as the death nefts spreads over it like a shad ow. And around the Innocent face of the dead are streaming eyes, and sti fled sobs, and murmured prayer. And they laid her beneath tho wil. low, by the quiet lake. Nightly 'he pitying moon weeps sli ver tears upon hor lonely grave, and softly sweet the night wind sighs a mong the drooping boughs that cover its narrow bed. Tread lightly, for in it sleeps the tho Broken -Hearted. On tho far off shore of the Pacific, a gallant bark is spreading hor white sails to the breeze, and stemming the blue water with her homeward brow. Sho is freighted with hearts that aro bounding high with "thoughts of kindred and of home." Among them is a youth whoso manly form is dilating with tho anticipated joy of folding to his bosom one, more dear to him than friends or kindred. He had plighted his troth to a sweet girl who was the idol of his heart. But strange stories of exhaust less gold from the far West tempted him from her side. Wealth, inoio prized for her sake than his own, seemed to join the ea ger spirits w ho were crowding to the glittering harvest. Fortune had crowned his efforts, and he was re turning with buoyant heart, to lay his treasures at the feet of his belov ed. Many months had passed since tidings of his Isabel had reached him hut, though in the anguish of disap pointment he had bitterly chitted the tardy post that had failed lo bring the accustomed message of love, his san guine nature forboded no evil. Alas! he little knew that an idle tale of a lalse lover who had broken his vow and wedud another idly told, and as idly repeated until it had assum ed a garb of truth she could not doubt, had readied her and that the sweet rosebud that had bloomed only lor him had faded forever. Onward speeds the vessel over the foaming billows, and lltn-y Wilmot is still dreaming of his love. Dream on, fond lover; build high, while, thou niuyc.st, thy bright vision of bliss, for, oil! dark and terrible will be the des olation of thy grief-stricken soul, when thine hour of waking shall come. .Never, oh! never more again shall the while arms of thy beloved encircle thy form, and her trusting eyes gaze fondly into thine. Cold, cold is the heart that beat only for thee; and quenched is the love-beam which kept watch fur thy coming. 'l'is night. The. moon-beam sleeps upon the quiet lake, and on the grave of Isabel. Over its cidd stone, be neath the w illow, a bowed, a broken form is bending. Deep groans of an guish are rending his frame, lie is pouring out his gricf-burtheued heart in prayer. Suddenly he looks up ward. Oh, Harry Wilmot! is thy rea son wandering oris it indeed an angel j that beckoneth thee! Listen! Dream est thou! or dost thou .really hear in the upper air, music so soft, so ravish ingly sweet as only seraph .strike! li front golden And oh! do! li the dim light of yon shadowy harper take on it the likeness of thy loved and lost! Il'so, rejoice! oh Harry Wilmot! for the days of thy sorrow are drawing to a close. Bo patient for yet a little lon ger, and thine hour of deliverance is at hand. Time speeds, and autumn again with its sighing winds and falling leaf, saddens the dying year. The mlver leaves of the willow are gliding, with noiseless fall upon the grave of Isabel but not on it alone, for near it is a white stone which bears the name of Harry Wilmot. The fevered heart of the .-tillerer is stilled at last, lli dreary life is over and Harry Wilmot has joined his angel bride in the up per sky. Oh Death! thou has per formed a work of mercy. Long years have passed, and still the wilderness keiq s watch over the sleepers beneath; and oftoti the dwel lers by that quiet lako grow sad as they point to the graves of the Broken Hearted. THINK Of MK. Farewell and never think of m In lighted hall or lady's bower ! Farowtdl and never think of me In rpriug nunshiuc or summer hour. But when yon see a lonely grave, Just where a broken heart might he, With not one mourner by ils soil, Then, and then only, think of mo ! Uctith ollin Oldest Man in Virginia. Mr. Phillip Jessie, aged ViO years, died in New-Garden. Russell county, Va., on the 1st of December. It is stated that a short time before his death he was able to attend to his own household affairs and that while in his hundredth year he cut and split one hundred rails. A man named Cope has been sen tenced to sixteen months' imprison ment in Louisville, for running off with a negro girl. It was an 'affair of the heart.' Nothing establishes confidence soon er than punctuality. A heart once given should not be transferable, Evil men speak as they wish rather than what thrv know. Written for the Winchester llsme Journal, LINES TO AN ABSENT ONE. WRITTEN Br MOON LIQIIT. The moon is gently beaming O'er land and sea; Its rays are sweetly streaming Across the lea Faint zophyrs murmur o'er mo So sadly sweet, I wake from my dreamy slumbers Thy voico to groat. But oh! sail bcreavcmonll I piiie'nlono The charm, thy presence lont, Alas, is gone, But like the mellow music Of midnight dreams, Thy spirit hovers round mo Siill still it seems. Tho stars reflect thy imago Sj very bright Tho moon with beauty sparkles, So full of light, I think 1 see thee looking Down from above, To choor my heart, now languishing, Willi smiles of lovo. PATRICK HENRY. Very little is known of the most elo quent orator of our revolutionary histo ry, and who derived all his power from original genius and thestudyof nature and men, and had no acquaintance with books. The following sketch of his character and habits Mr. Webster received from Mr. Jefferson, and is found in the recently published volum es of Mr. Webster's correspondence: Patrick Henry was originally a bar keeper. Ho was married when very young, and going into some business, was bankrupt before the year was out. When 1 was about the age of fifteen, I left the school here to go to the college at Williamsburg. 1 stopped at a friends in the county of Louisa. There I first became acquainted with Pat rick Henry. Having spent the Christ mas holidays tin-re, 1 proceeded to Williamsburg. Some questions arose about my aduiis'ston, as my prcpuritory studies had not been pursued at the school connected with the institution. This delayed my admission about a fortnight, at which time Henry ap peared in Williamsburg, and applied ibr a license to practice law. having commenced the studdy of it at or sub sequently to the time of my meeting him in Louisa. There were four ex aminers Wythe, Pendleton, Peyton Randolph and John Randolph. Wythe and Pendleton at once rejected his ap plicat ion. Tho two Randolphs, by his import unity, were prevailed upon to sign the license; and having obtained their signatures, he applied again to Pendleton, and after much entreaty and many promises of future study, succeeded in obtaining his. He then turned out for a practicing lawyer. The first ease which brought him into notice was a contested election, in which he appeared as counsel before the committee ol the. House ol Bur gesses. His second was the Parsons case, already well known. These and similar cllnrts soon obtained for him so much reputation that he was elec ted a member of the legislature He was as well suited to the times as any man ever was, and it is not now easy to say w hat we should have done with out Patrick Henry. Ho was far be fore nil in maintaining the spirit of the Revolution. His influence was most extensive with the members from tho upper counties and bis bold ness aurl their votes overawed and rant rolled the more cool or the more timid aristocratic gentleman of the lower part of the State. His eloquence was peculiar, if indeed it could be call ed eloquence, for it was impressive and sublime beyond what can be im agined. Although it was (lillicult, when he had spoken, to tell what he had said, yet, while he was speaking, it always seemed directly to ttie point. When he had spoken in opposition to my opinion had produced a great effect, and 1, myself, been delighted and moved, 1 have asked myself when he ceased, "what has he siiidr' 1 could never answer the inquiry. His person was of full size, and his manner mid voice free and manly. His utter ance was neither very fast nor very slow. His spechi'S generally short from n quarter to half an hour. His pronunciation was vulgar and vicious, but it was forgotten while speaking. He was a man of very little knowl edge of any sort; he read nothing, and had no books. Returning one No vember from Alberinarble court, he borrowed Hume's Essays, in two vol umes, saying he should have leisure in the winter for reading. In the spring he returned them, declared he had not been able to get further than twenty or thirty pages in the first volume. He wrote almost nothing he could not write J lie resolutions ol 7J, which have been ascribed to him, have by many been supposed to have been written by Mr. Johnson, who acted as second on that occasion; but it they were written ly llenry himself, they were not such as to prove any power ot comparison, neither in politics nor in his profession was he a man.. His biographer says that he read I iu tarch every year. 1 doubt whether be ever read a volume of it in hi l'f His temper was excellent, and be erally observed decorum In debate. On one or two occasions I bave seen i.; o,i i.i.anzerwas terrible; those who witnessed it were not dis posed to rouse it " J opinion ,e was yielding and practiMc. and not disposed 'to Met from his friends. In n.ivM conversation he was agreeable facetious, and while in genteel so- elfty, appeared to understand all the deiciences and proprieties of it; but in neBrt nB P" ' "y, nu Number 4 sought it as often as possible. He would hunt in the pine woods of Flu vanna, with overseers, and people of that description, living in a camp for a fortnight at a time without a changn of raiment. I have often been aston ished at his command of proper lan guage; how he obtained a knowledge of it, I never could find out, as he read so little and conversed little with edu cated men. After all, it must be allowed that ho was our leader in the measure of the Revolution In Virginia. In that re spect more was due to him than to any other person. If we had not had hint we should probably have got on pretty well, as you did, by a number of men of nearly equal talents; but he left us all far behind. His biographer sent the sheets of his work to me as they were printed, and at the end asked for my opinion. 1 told him it would be a question hereafter whether his work should be placed on a shelf of history or of panegyric. It is a poor book, written in a bad taste, and gives so imperfect an idea of Patrick llenry, that it seems intended to show ofl the writer more than the subject of the writer. We always think of a very mean man that he was made by one of na ture's cobblers, and, like an unfinished boot, thrown off without being soulcd. The Ciiuss Kino. A dispatch dated Halifax, January' 14, says: The chess contest between Morphy and Anderson took place at Paris, with the following result; Morphy won sev en games, Anderson two, and two games were drawn. According to agreement, Morphy having won seven games, is the victor. MARRIED LIFE. The following beautiful and true sentiments are from the pen of that charming writer, Frederick Bremer, whose observations might well become rules of life, so appropriate are they to many of its phases: "Deceive not one another in small things nor in great. One little single lie has, before now, disturbed a whole married life ; a small cause has often great consequences. Fold not the arms together and sit idle Do not run much from home. One's own hearth is of more Worth than gold. Many a marriage, my friends, begins like the rosy morning, and then falls away like a snow-wreath. Anil why, my friends? Because tho married pair neglect to be as well pleasing to each other after marriago as before. Endeavor always, my children, to please one another, but at the same time keep Clod in your thoughts. Lavish not all your love on to-day, for remember that marriage has its to morrow likewise, and its day after lo.tnorrmv, loo. Spare, as one may say, fuel for the winter. Consider, my daughter, what the word wife express es. The married woni'in is the hus band's domestic faith, in her hand he must be able to confide house and fam ily; be able to entrust to her the key of his heart, as well as tho key of his eating room. His honor and his home are under her keeping his well-being in her hand. Think of this! And you, sons, be faithful husbands, and good fathers of families. Act so that your wives shall esteem and love you." GIVE ME HOPE. BV V. J. SLATTEB. Give mo iiore, if not your love, Oh ! give mo hope to cheer, Lisa, by all dial's true above, My future will be drear; For life, e'en now, is dark tome, Of gladness not a ray, Then do not add to misery l!y casting hope away. Bo yon doubt 1 then give me time To prove that I'm sincere For, to me, (here's not on earth Another one so dear Another for whose love My life I would lay down Would liko a boggar rove Rcfuso a monarch's crown. "Asn tiikm's my oriNioss!" 'Don't you tell me, sir,' said Mrs. Spitfire, with a lace burning like a kitchen-hre; "no man has a right to be a bachelor. It's his own fault if he is, ond serve him right, too, say I! An old maid, poor creature, is frequently an old maid from compulsion; but when a man is a bachelor, 1 mean fo say that nine times out of fen, he is a bachelor from choice, and a pretty choice it is. It is all the difference between mak ing your bed and having it mada for you. And them's my opinions!" and here Mrs- Spitfiro folded her arms a la Napoleou, as though she were ready to receivo ti combined contradiction of the entire world. Punch. The amount of vacant and unen cumbered land belonging to tha State of Texas is 101,039,100 acres. The Boston and Worcester railroad Company gave over 4,000 lbs. of Tur key to their eniployeeon Thaaksgiv ing Day. "A stern rebuke," os the dog when the Irishman thoppcdathi$ttil with a spade. '.'" '