. . .. . , . .. . ..,• .:. • . , - s ost t r.a , .. . . ... .. a • ..- .- ~....,. ~, .. nommns , Wzrrr, tvzinnzzirzcni ADVPUtI'ISE lIENTS The Fashionable Hats, Caps and Bonnets. Paxton AS pow on hand a very large Lassen - 111 L mein of TEATS, CAPE & BONNaTS at his old stand in Chambershure Street, two doors from the Court House. CONSISTING AS FOLLOWS Meng Castor lIATS, Itoram do. " Spanish body do. " Silk do. " Plain Russia do. Youth's Fur do. Old Men's Broad Brims do. Low Crown do. Also Second hand lIATS. Ladies FUR BONNETS, " SILK do. Also—A GOOD ASSODTMENT OF 'lj It c kris, of different kinds: KIM SEO7IIL CJPS for MEN and BOYS. All of which he will sell at Low Prices wholesale and retail—for Cash and Country Produce—such as Wheat, Corn, Rye, Buck wheat, Oats, Wood; Wool, &c. OCrCall and judge for yourselves. November 17, 1837. YOUR MOST OBEDIENT: THE' Subscriber, after thanking his friends and the public for the very lib eral encouragement he has horetofure re ceived, hogs leave to inform them, that he continues the business, in all its various branches,ut his old stand in South Baltimore Street, and will keep constantly on hand a GENERAL ASSORTMENT OF HATS, of his own mangfacture, which, fur neatness and durability, canno be surpassed. 111 RAS FOR SALE, Black and White plain Russia HATS, La test Fashions! Gentlemen's Beaver, Castor and Rorain do Youths', Boys' and Children's do. SILK H AI'S, Black and White, for MEN and .BOYS. LADIES' BEAVER BONNETS, vory neat and Fashionable. Good Wool HATS. Also—Otter, Nutria, Musk, Chinchilla And 11.111.13. E. 1.1.4 Cal AP ,S, a gen • Ail.*wltteh':itill, be sold on the most 4ensonittle terms, wholesale end retell. SAMUkiI, S. AIcCREAR.Y. -,, 7 1 1 1g0vember..4.4,.0. 1 :37. tr-33 , . COACII LA,C3, .FRIANVE TelS S S. THE Subscriber 'has now on hand a large stock of very superior voav zra 24 a o FRINGE AND-TASSELS, OF HIS OWN MANUFACTURE, which he Wilt siiicrese of on the most reason Able terms: - ' ' • - Once from a distance will he prompt. ly attended to. Any Pattern made to order. Address JOIIN ODELL, Grityshura Pa N.B.' All kinds of miErrAitY work dime to order. • November 17;1837. lixfqr tutttion W anted. ON . the - Ist day of May, 1936, a young man, (Son of the Subscriber,) named William Baldwin, kit his home, at Cumberland Furnace, Cumberland coun ty, Pu. on a short journey, and has not been .heard of since. Fears are entertained that some accident may have happened to him 1r hobo st ill living, um' inforination i•espect ing him, communicated to the Editor of the "Sentinel," Gettysburg. or to his distressed titnilierint Cumberland Furnace,will be most Ft -nightly received JANE BAI1)WIN. "sl.w , mber 3, 1537; • caamlLviro. -"With sweetest flowers enriclecl, From various gardens cull'd with care." Fon THE GETTVSOURGH STAR AND BANNER PARA,PIIRASE Of an extract from remark., Truttle by Til A antus STEVI:NH, Es¢. in the Constitutional Con vention, on the Sth of July, 1837, DY blll9. LI'DIA JANE.PEIRSON Yes! rather would I be a soul-crusli'd slave, Beneath a Southern master's iron sway; Who looks for no redemption but the grave, And sows with blood., and learn, his weary way Who grovels misled to earth by scorn and toil, On whom hope never beams, joys never smile! Ali! rather this degraded slave I'd be Than the free subject of a Northern State. Who ba4ele fears to pour his soul cut free Amongst his country's children in debate! I will speak boldly! Let the Coward fear, I'll sooner die! than feel the tyrant here! Oh' that I own'd the whole degraded laud That lies a blot upon my country's name ; That I might break the chains from every hand, And FREEDOM! to their startled ears proclaim Then should I witness a soul•thrilling sight: Their first glad dance of Freedom's wild delight! How glow'd that noble Speaker's generous brews With the high ardour of the free acid brave! While the clear voice so dauntlessly- exprest This holy wish of mercy for the Slave! 0! let this voice of rich Philanthropy Re-echo through our land, from sea to sea! Tioga County, Pa. Vail 2 Cl).ojli2 'The Saving's Bank. “The Spirit of the age is Benevolence.”" Every day in France, new, useful and ingot) ms establishments arise. some are occupied in ncreasing the power and perfection of manufac ories, others turn their attention to agriculture and the arts. All the energies of man seemed to be called forth to increase the progress of civilization and human happiness; but nothing contributes inure to the comfort and improvement of the laboring classes thati the Savings' Bank. People may there safely place the money they have earned over their pres ent wants, secured by commercial honor, and man aged by the highest financial economy, and thus provide for the future. The admirable institution saves every day the expenses of self indulgence or dissipation,and gives the excellent habit of regulating,and enriching our selves. It is established in Rue de la Vailliere, near the Bank of France, and is open on every Nanday from 9to 2 o'clock. A commissary of the Administration presides over it; and people may place thorn from I to 50 francs, which is put to use and pays an interest every six months with out any expense to those who wish to save thus their surplus money. It is managed by persons employed in the Bank of Prance, who under the surveillance of a person distinguished by rank and fortune, receive the numerous deposites that are made by all classes. Nothing can be more interesting to the philan thropist than this sight; artizans and workmen who bring not only that which has bean saved by self denial. but sometimes that which has been taken from their watts. There you may see un old por ter, increasing every month his little treasure,which shall save him, when he is old and infirm, from going into a hospital. Here you may see a young woman bringing her earnings, that she may have something towards housekeeping. On this side is a rich old man, who wishes to increase the pros perity of the useful establishment by a sum that shall cause his name to Ile remembered and bless ed. On the other a poor Savoyard, who takes from his purse, the grains of his best day, as au offering to his old mother. Among them a fash- ionable young man is sometimes seen, with the winnings of the evening before, which he brings as the fruit of his resolution to break the direful passion of gaming. This multitude of people,pre seining in one hand their money. and with the other a small bookOn which arc inscribed the sums placed in the bank, appears like a swarm of indus- trious bees, who come to their hive loaded with the fruit of their labors, and murmuring with the plea sure of success. Among the persons who rarely failed to bring something every Sunday, to add to a capital already formed, a man named Laurent was noticed. He was an engraver of metals; his face carried an expression of mischief; but it was at the some time intellectual; his person and clothes indicated either extreme poverty or avarice. He carried two small hooks, in which was regularly entered the sum he brought; sometimes it was small, at others large; and which he placed in the bank with an earnestness and avidity that denoted an ardent desire for accumulation. As the crowd was always great, and ns it was necessary to go at an early hour to save time, ho always carried his breakfast in his pocket; it generally consisted of a small rye loaf, moistened with barley water; 3 sous were sufficient to procure it. Ho ordinarily dined at 11 o'clock, at a cheap restaurant's who lived be low him in the same building. We may believe that his personal goods were analagous to his life. However, he always had a good hed and clean lin en, and took, every morning a glass of wine. People were the more astonished at his parsi mony, because he was an excellent workman and ed skill and quickness tc industry and talent He would enrn six and seven francs a day, be sideswhat he gained at home. Every one had something to say about his manner of living.— Sometithes ho was suspected of gaining, or ventur ing in lotteries. Sometimes he was accused of waiting upon ladies. The imputation made him smile, and only amused him; naturally caustic, it pleased him that under his costume they should suspect him of having any portion of "the tender pasiion." Laurent had a sister, the wife of a man named Duhamel, who was a jeweller in the Paling Royal, and who wag as hrillinnt and extravagant as his brother•tn-law was rough and grasping. • Madame Duhamel hail tried every means to attract the com panion dial' childhood and first friend to her house, for Laurent was several years older than his sister; but he was inflexible in his resolutions and unchangeable in his habits, and dill not wish that the proud Duhornet should suffer by his . presence. gc I WISH NO OTHER HERALD, NO OTHER SPEAKER OF MY LIVING Amorir9, TO KEEP"HINE ILONOR FROX CORRUPTION."--SHARE. tiIBUtiPIr.V.M.F'L2COZU O zPac. /P222.12)ca.re o ow.P.zsztalaut 944 aCtati% convinced that what ho had given them was the fruit of his labor, they redoubled all their efforts not to abuse his goodness. The mother, who had worked at the making of fringe before her mar- ringe, now resumed her old business; and her two daughters joined with so much success, that they were patronized by the richest merchants in the capital. They worked from morning till night,aud each ono was soon able to gain forty sous a day, which would enable them to support themselves. Duhamel,on his part,earned a little by working for jewellers; but the mortifications ho suffered, and the sovero conflicts of his pride,weakened him and effected his health. Ho was attacked by an illness that soon carried him to his grave, regret ting but too late that he had yielded so easily to the attraction of vanity, and shudtloring to ,think of what might be the fate of his family, to whom there was left, besides their own efforts, only the feeble support of his brother-in-law, who, 'he was convinced, could not aid chain by his purse. Laurent,who was still refrained from appearing to talto any interest, was delighted with tho indus try and perseverance of Duhamel. Under the pretence . of uniting them more strongly. ho pro- posed to put in a common stock, the proauco of their latpor, ant! to hear himself a third part of the expenses of housekeeping. They gladly accepted his offer, for Madame Duhatnel had always pre- served for her brother a tender attachment; not- withstanding hie indiarence and parsimony. Flo- The humble engraver, notwithstattding his poor appearance, hod all the pride of an independent soul, and would not put himself in the way to re ceive the least neglect; he never asked any thing of any one, and comforted himself in his obacnri'y by not being obliged to require any thing from the society he shunned. He never went to the halm of his,sister except on her birthday. On the morn ing of that day he took a two-penny boquet of flow ers,entered the back door,kissed Madame Duhumel and her two daughters, the eldest of whom was his god-daughter, then left the house, and never went again through the year. The mother and her daughters sometimes visited him in his garret, but they always forewarned him of their coming or they would have found the door shut. Madame Dulunnel remarked that he shaved himself for these meetings,and always had on clean linen. On these occasions the ties of blood regained their empire, I and they were received with the greatest affection. But he never made the least gift, not even to his god-daughter, or the offer of the smallest refresh ment; !le had always something to say about econo my, and kept up his austerity of manner. Ten years passed away, during which Laurent went regularly every Sunday to place his money in the Savings' Bank. The two books, of the existence of which no one in his family had the least suspi cion, showed a capital which had increased by its own interest. The imaginations of people were to htm of little importance, he even rejoiced in secret at them; while his riches increased every year, he only redoub'cd his parsimony. In the meantime, the prodigal jeweller saw his fortune diminish eve ry day, more by foolish expenses than by losses which every one experiences in business. He in sensibly lost his credit, and to re-establish, he bought and sold in the stocks, which soon comple ted his ruin: He was obliged to leave his brilliant shop in the Palois Royal, sell his stock of silver and a beauti ful collection of paintings. Madame Duhamel part ed with her jewels, and could no longer retain the masters who had instructed her daughters on the harp, and in the song and the dance. They retir ed to the fourth story of a house; and Madame Duhamel being without a dormiftic, employed her self in the hardest of the work; Flora and Leila took care of the lightest part; while the father, to provide for their subsistence, was obliged to solicit work of those whose equal he had once been, by which he suffered great humiliation. I.auront,who had foreseen this catastrophe, ap peared neither surprised nor afflicted by it; indeed some persons thought he enjoyed a secret pleasure at the fall of his br,ther-in-law. The latter now entirely changed his manner towards Laurent; he did not blush, as formerly, at seeing him ; he did not any more criticise his patched over-coat, his leather cap, his pantaloons of cotton velvet, or his large shoes, made stronger by iron nails ; it was now,my good brother here, my dear Laurent there. He went to see him every Sunday, praised his do mestic habits,congrutulated him on having so little to do in the world,and even admired his economy, but all did not produce any result. Laurent re maining without the least expression of concern in his countenance, and with perfect coldness of manner,did not make the least offer of assistance, and with his eyes fixed on the graver, he continu ed to work, without either blaming or cmsoling his brother-in-law who left tun firm in the belief that it was not in his power to assist them. Not withstanding the indifference of Laurent towards Duhamel,he was less rigid when he saw his sister and her two daughters. When they visited him in his garret, which did not appear so high as for merly, when they told him of their troubles and the vain efforts of Duhamel to get a living, and made at last the painful confessi .n of having sa crificed every thing to preserve their honor, and thZre was now not anything left,and that they were reduced to labor with their hands, he was trou bled in spite of himself, and his face - showed the combat of his heart. Ono day, near the end of Autumn, Flora and Leila, who had, not long ago, worn the most elegant clothing, were now so bad ly clad that their uncle remarked it ; these poor girls confessed that this was all they had to pre serve them against the severity of winter. It must !wipe," cried he,with an expression of feeling they did not know he had. ""No, no! this ought not to be; I cannot suffer my niece,my god daughter, to perish with the cold; no, if I sell the little I own." A few days after,the sisters,each onc,received a present of a cloth cloak and merino dress ; they were not of the first quality, hut they would make them comfortable during the severity of tho sea son. This first gift that Laurent had ever made, caused a great surprise and a gratitude, the ac knowledgment of which went to the bottom of his heart,and made him acquainted with the inexpressi ble luxury of doing good. He renewed his gifts with all possible economydeaving thorn in the be lief that they were at the expense of his own wants and privations. He took less that week to the Sa vings' Bank; but how could he see his sister and his two charming nieces exposed during the win: ter to the horrors of want! They, on their part, were touched by the sympathy of their uncle; and ra and Leila felt a great Direction for their uncle, and paid him every respectful attention. Laurent left,his garret, and took decent apartments in the same house with his sister. It was a great distance from the one in which he had worked during 21 years; but it suited his rears to work by the piece, and it also enabled him better to fulfil the duties he had assumed, that of replacing the father of the orphans. Tins re-union made the happiness of all who composed it; and Madame Duhaniel and her two daughters were soon enabled to open a work room for the making of fringe. They had gained by their skill and industry the patronage of the first merchants in the city, and principally one who lived in the Rue !MX Fers,and conducted himself a large business. He took a great interest in the family of Duhamel, and gave them his most important orders. Laurent on his part being occupii d with his graver, inaprov.ad all his time, but hid his gain as much as possible from the family. lie occupied two small rooms in the four•h story, from which he only Caine down at meals; and con secrated all his tune to labor. All in the house believed it was necessary for him to do so, and which gave him an opportunity of increasing his •riches unknown to any one. IlOwever,all saw a change in him ! the old patch ed coat was replaced by a blue cloth one,his crush ed• leather cap by a round hat, his cotton velvet pantaloons by woolen ur nankeen; and his shoes, although not very thin, were without nails. He had yielded insensibly to the desire of pleasing his sister and her daughters, from whose society he ex perienced those heartfelt tics which are only to be found in united families. Flora and Leila were now twenty years of age; they carried upon their faces the expression of intellect, which reflected the traces of an early good education. Their busi ness increased every day, their work being distin guished by a taste which enabled them to bring it to an uncommon state of perfection. The purity of their morals, and the dignity which they retain ed of young persons who had been well brought up, contributed to attract the public esteem. The rich fringe merchant, •vho came frequently to visit them, was charmed by the union which subsisted between the two sisters, and the respectful atten tion with which they treated the mother and old uncle. He found a relaxation from the cares of business at th• it house in the evening, and they soon became so intimate us to confide to each other their hopes and prospects. The old merchant wish ed to retire from bu ;11eSS, and having no children, made an oiler for Madam Duhamel to purchase his establishment and succeed hint in business, if she could give hira sufficient security for the pay ment. "Your proposition is flattering,and does us honor, but. only living by the work of our hands, we have not been able to lay up any thing, so that we have not anything to offer you but our industry and honor." "If our father," added Leila. "had not had those unfortunate losses which ruined him, we might accept your offer, which fulfils all our wishes, but we cannot dream of it," said she, heaving a sigh, "we must be contented to remain workwomcn." “How much do you value your establishment at?" asked Laurent, sitting, until now, unconcern ed at the table, and amusing himself with dominos. "It is," answered the merchant, "worth at I;:ast. 100,000 fra::es, but if I could receive the half, the remainder might remain on security." "If 50,000 francs will satisfy you," answered Lament with emotion, "my nieces may treat with you.'• "You are dreaming my brother? cried Madam Duhamel. "Our uncle wishes to amuse himself at our ex pense," added Flora. "lie wishes to tease us by building castles in the air." said Leila." 4 , 11 y children, I nm serious," said Lauront,with out raising his oyes, and contanuiug to amuse him belf at the table, "each of you possess more than 25,000 francs." "What do you say, dear uncle?" "Yes, I have examined your hooka at the Sa.v ngs' Hank-" "We do not comprehend you." He arose at these ivords,and looking at his nieces, with a smile, he went hastily to his room, from whence he brought an old portfolio containing two small hooks—one bearing the name of Flora Du hamel, and the other that of Leila; each one con taining twenty-live thousand francs. The two young persons to whom he gave them, could not believe their eyes. Madame Duhamel after she was convinced of the reality of this, threw herself into the arms of her brother, and said to him with emotion: • "That mystery which we could not comprehend, is now explained. This is the fruit of ro many years of privation and severe economy." "It is true, dear sister, seeing that your husband would ruin himself by his luxury and foolish ex penses, I thought it my duty to prepare for the future. Of the seven or eight francs which I daily earned, I determined to spend only two, it is now seventeen years since I have placed what I have been able to save in the Savings' Bank. I have acquired by adding the interest to the capital 50,- 000 francs, which I have now the pleasure of offer- Mg to my nieces, and which will let them see how much a calculating and persevering economy will produce. You will pardon me for all the moral cations I have made you suffer by my mean ap pearance, by that parsimony I have used to obtain my wishes. I have suffered on account of it my self more than once, but the idea of saving my sis ter and her children from misery re-animated toy strength and increased my courage. Al last I have come, but not without effort, to the term of my privation and my happiness. I shall see you hon orably placed in society, holding the rank of mer chants in the city. have achieved my work peaceably near you, and shall he able to say in seeing your business, prosper, my nieces happily settled in society and their excellent mother surrounded by their children —"See what the Savings' Bank has produced 1 " All the wishes of the good old uncle were realized; the treaty was concluded the same day with the fringe merchant, who royal, in a family so united, the best guarantee of tire money which remained • duo, and which was punctually paid. The Maga sin do la Rue aux Fern prospered. more than ever. Laurent gave up engraving, which had become painful on account of his weakened eves, kept the books of the eJtablislanent, and made one of the correspondents. He reserved for himself an an nuity, which gave him on honest and independent living; and ho experienced, although a bachelor, all the enjoyments of a good father of a family.— And when he saw at the counter his two nieces, more charming than everolways modest and retir ing, every day increasing their fortune and credit, he would repeat with delight "See what the Sav ings' Bank lido• produced." At last the dearest of his wishes was accomplished. The Misses Du hamel accepted the addresses of the sons of a rich silk merchant in the Rue St. Dennis. The two sisters received the nuptial benediction the same day. This double marriage, in blending the two , fortunes, gave satisfaction to all; and the good old uncle, who insisted upon making their trousseau, led.the brides to the altar, which was surrounded by their friends; and when the oaths of fidelity were pronounced by both parties, the happy old man, in regarding them tenderly could not hinder from escaping his lips, these words, accompanied by a smile, "See! see! what the Saving,s Bank has produced." ➢lard) of Rearing. A LOPE STOUT. A young Jonathan once courted the daug'ner of an old man that lived "down cast," who profess ed to he deficient in hearing, but, for Fatah, who was more captious than limited in hearing, as the sequel will show. It was a stormy night in the ides of March, WI mistake not, when lightning met lightning, and loud peals of thunder answered thunder, that Jona than sat by the old man's fireside discussing With . the old lady (his intended mother-in-law) on the expediency of asking the old man's permission to marry "Sal." Jonathan resolved to ""pop it" to the old man, the next day: obut," said he, "as I think On the task my heart shrinks." To be brief, night passed, and by the dawn of another day the old man was found in his hamlet feeding pigs.— Jonathan rose from bed early in the morning, spied the old man feeding his pigs, and resolved to ask hini for Sal. Scarce had a minute elapsed after Jonathan male his last resolution ere he bid the old man "good morning." Now Jonathan's heart beat,now ho scratched ins heid,and ever and anon gave birth to a pensive yawn. Jonathan then declared that he'd as lief take thirty-nine "stripes" as to ask the old man, "but," said he aloud to himself, "how ever, here goes it, 'a fliint heart never Won a fair gal,' " and addressed the old man thus: say,old man,l want to marry your daughter." Old man—" You leant to borrow my halter, I would loan it to you, Jonathan, but my son has taken it, and gone off to the mill." Jonathan (putting his mouth close to the old man's ear and speaking in a deafening voice)— "I've got five hundred pounds of money." Old man (stepping back as if greatly alarmed, and exclaiming in a voice of surprise)--“You have got live hundred pounds of honey! What in'the mischief can you do with so much honey, Jona than? Why, it is more than all the neighborhood has use for." Jonathan (not yet the victim of despair, and putting his mouth to the old muu's ca'r,bawled out) --I've got gold." Old man—"So have I, Jonathan, and it's the worst cold I ever had in my life." So saying, he sneezed a "wash up." By this time the old lady came up, and having observed Jonathan's unfortunate luck, she put her mouth to the old man's ear, and screamed like a woundcd Yahoo:— "Daddy, I say, daddy, you don't _understand c woofs to marry our daughter." Old man—••L ttild him that our calf haltor was gone." • Old lady—" Why, cloddy, you can't understand; he's got gold! he's rich!" Old man—" He's got a cold and the itch, eh ! What's he doing here with the itch, eh!" So say ing the old man aimed a blow at Jonathan's head with his walking cane; but, happily for Jonathan, he dodged it. Nor did the rage of the old man stop at this, but with angry countenance ho made after Jonathan, who took to his heels,nor did Jona than's luck stop here; he had not got out of the barnyard, nor far from the old man, who run him a close race, ere Jonathan stumped his toe and fell to the ground, and, before the old man could "take up," he stumbled over Jonathan,and fell sprawling in a mudholo. Jonathan sprung to his heels, and with the speed of John Gilpin cleared himself.— And poor Sal! she died a nun. Novur had no husband. It'l*o can be an 'Rhein? Wass we look around and behold how beauti ful and how excellent, and how adapted to our wants, every thing has been created, must we not admit that there must be an infinitely wise and guild being, who is the author thereof l Cun we for a moment imagine that all these things came by chancel No, •we must at once believe that there is a God, who has created and still preserves them by the word of his almighty power. Let us cast our eyes around us,and behold the beauty of the harvest field,ripe for the sickle,which but three months before appeared as though it would not produce the seed that was sown on it, but at last it brought forth a full crop. Who must not admit that the increase comes from Gott! If we cast our eye on the corn-fleld,aiad see how the corn springs up from day to day; the farmer,it is true, planted, ploughed and hoed the same, hut would not all have been in vaim, had not God added his blessing! If we look about us and behold the domestic ani. orals of every description, how.thoy are adapted to our use, must we not confess that there is a wise and good God! Now let us for a moment cast our eyes toward the heavens and behold the sun, the moon,and the stars, and all those planets which revolve round the sun, the centre; and could our eyes penetrate through the celestial world, methinks we could seo thousands of worlds now invisible—and have these all come by chance! No! it canitot be otherwise than that there is a God. Now for a moment let us look to ourselves, and see why we were endowed with so much more in tellect than any thing else that we see mound us; why is it that % , yr. aro formed so much supolior to all other species of the animal creation; why is it that we so often' feel an uneasiness m our breast; why is it that we have a conscience which con demns us when we do that which is wrong! Even the infidel. when in clanger of losing his life,shows an uncsiiness and is not willing to die. Certairs- [VOL. 8 --NO. 7:41 fy wo must confess that them is - st God vatic; created tut so; and for that ptirpose—eveWthar should partake of the many blessings which 10 bilk", bestowed upon us;' he is trying to show many blessings which ho confers upon . loves us, and that it is his holy pleasure'thseWe should not ho like the dumb brutes who lie and die and are no more, but that beim given uak? ,- , a soul, which after death must be forever happy or - tormented. Does he not wish to give us a fore taste of heaven, when ho blesses us so abundantly hero on earth! And yet multitudes will curse their Maker,and call to him to damn their souls, and the souls of their fellow men ! After all that, the Lord has done for us in this world to make us happy, they still hate him and are not willing to enjoy his blessings with contented and grateful hearts; they aro determined to persevere in their sins—yea, after ho has sent his tninisters unto them, to tell them of the glory and the treasures that are laid up in heaven, if they will only com ply his commands; and on the other hand,to warn them of the danger and approaching destruction:. which await them, should they not make their. • peace with God ; and he alone can feel that the. Lord Lord has been kind to him, even, from the day of his birth. It is the Christian that enjoys the foretaste of Heaven while hem on earth, and sometimes wish es to leave his tabernacle of clay,and rise iund min gle with the angelic host above, to join a dear fa ther, or mother, or brother,or sister,or wife,er hus band, or son, or daughter, who have gone before, and washed their robes in the blood of the Lamb! Ah! when the Christian,thro . ugh the ey%of faith. takes a glance into that blessed hauitation, and be. - holds his God, his Saviour, and all those holy, be. ings who have been faithful amidst all the trou. Wes and trials of this wicked world, even those he loved in this world, perhaps his best friends, who have gone before him, he is almost constrained to think that he has left this vale of tears and sor row—he is so delighted with the scene that it leaves an impression on his mind for many days, and no doubt sometimes to the end of his days--.. then will he exclaim with the poet: "0 glorious hour, 0 blest abode, I shall be near and like my God." But alas! when he awakes, as it were, from hta dream, he finds himself yet in the midst of a ed world, to await his Master's will. But conten— ted, he is resigned to the will of God, in preparing himself better,and endeavoring to'persuade his fel low mortals to make their peace with God. Dot here I must stop, seeing that my sheet is full, but not without a word to the impenitent : „ Stop, Sinner, and reflect what you are doing,. and where you are going!” TOE .LANOUAGE oY LOVE.—"DOSt thou- love me?" asked the youth, in the holiest hour of love, the first, in which souls meet and give themselves away. The maiden gazed on him, hut answered not. "Oh! if thou lovest me, speak!" continued. he; but she gazed on him still, and could not. "Then I have but dreamed of happiness, and hoped that thou didst love me; but now all is over—both happiness and hope!" said the youth. "Dearest, do I not, then, love thee!" the maiden now asked, once and again. "But why ao slow to say it!" inquired be. She answered, al' was too happy to speak, until heard and felt thy pub," Lirs.—A man may change his life into a desert, wherein his eye will rest on nothing but the infini ty of earthly littlenesses and of heavenly grandeur. But is not such an Arabian desert, which contains nothing but the transition from countless gtains. of sand by day, to countless stars by night, infe riour in beauty and fruitfulness to a landscape, wherein are some shadows thrown by trees and. clouds! Tima—Tinio is a ceaseless dropping away of moments, which fall and disappear; while the fu— ture hangs unchanged on high, and the past is ever growing below, and increases the more, the farth er it recedes. What, then, remains to us? I an swer, the present fast as time may fly by, tit, present is our eternity, and never deserts us. THE VEIL or TEE rirrunc.—Thou standest be fore the mighty veil which shrouds eternity, and askest, Is it a veil of mourning or that of Isis? that of a murderer or a beauty? that of a radiant visage; like Moses's, or of a corpse? I answer, Thou wilt. one day lift it, and such as thy heart has deserved, such wilt thou lift. , Porrnr.—Tell us, thou bee, why inskest thou thy wax,fur masks or fur candled—for cuncealment or enlightenment! The bee answered, "For neith er; only for cells to hold my honey." Ask the poet. "Just liko me," rejoined the poet; seek neither to deceive nor to undeceive; but to give sweet Less." Ramtns AND pcoptc.—Both arise from a corn— mon source, as the root and top of a plant spcing from the same point in the aced: and though one. grows downward and the other upward, both are nourished from the aemo material; and when sepa rated, both die—but the top fires GOD'S st.u3suan.--"The Almighty is mating., or asleep," says the heart of man, when his dim eye can no longer follow his footsteps. Thus dui men once dreant that the sun had sunk to sleep in the ocean, when he was waking and moving over a new world. MAN.—Nlornus looked ou the animal creation, and said, thoughtfully, "Every beast resembles some one god or goddess; but which is the Image of them all'!" Then Prometheus formed man,antl answered, "Behold Tam!" , SMITEHBANEOVB FPUESt— We Haw ort Saturday, what secined a great curiosity. Several living fishes were shown to us, said to have been taken from a spring about three fourths ore mile under the earth s in a cave nor Lust R iver, Indiana, The lishen wore aboot two inches m length,and a little more than one in circumference. perfectly whiteovithout scales, slightly resembling a cat fish shape, and not only destitute ofeyet. but of every thing bearing the slightest resemblance to the visual organ. If sont friend can tell us to what claw of ashes these piscatory specimens belong, we *lO yield him the pelin of Ichthyology. ( ..r; a rKi .YiY~:. t~l~ a~v „s 'aG., 7,y~.~ . „ "~Y '-JK
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers