YOLUIE 33. NEW SERIES. THE BEDFORD GAZETTE n PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING BY MEYERS & BEN FORD, At the following terms, to wit: 51. 30 per annum, OASIT, in advance. 52.00 " if paid within the year. $2.50 <£ " it not p.iid within the year. subscript ion taken for less than six mouths. IT7"No paper discontinued until all arrearages are paid, urile-s at the option of the publishers. It has been decided by the United States Courts, that the stoppage of a newspaper without the payment of ar rearages, is )>rr.na facir evidence of fraud and is a eriminal offence. K7~The comts have decided that persons are ac countable for the subscription price of newspapers, if they take them from the pa.t office, whether they subscribe for them, or uo r . Select 13 cc t r 11. [from the Atlantic .Vfonthljr.J THE RELIEF OF LSJCKNOW. Oh, that last Jay in Lucknow fort! We knew that it was the last. That the enemy's lines crept cautiously on, And the end was coming fast. 1 o yield to that foe was worse than death, A nil the men and we all worked on ; ft was one day more o"smoke and roar, A lid then it would all be done. 1 h re iv,v, one of us, a corporal's wife, A lair, young, gentle thing, IV sted with fever an i the si-g ■, And her mind was wandering. *he lay on the ground, in her Scottish plaid, And i took her head on my knee; "Alien my lather comes hamefrae the pletigb," she sa;d, ••Oh! then p!e*--e waukrn me." She slept like a child o:i her father'.-, floor, In the flecking ol wood-pine shade, W hen the house-dog sprawls by the open door , And the mother's wheel is staid. It was smoke and roar and powder stench, And hopelessly waiting for death ; And the soldier's wife, like a full-tired child, Seemed scarce to draw her breath. ' sank to deep and I had my dream Of an English village lane And wall and garden—but on- vvildicrea-a Brought rne hack to the roar again. There Jesde Brown stood listening Till a sudden gladness broke All over her face, and she caught rov hand And drew me near as she spoke: "The Highlanders J oh ! dinr.a ye hear, The slogan far awa ! T L - s i.e.' 1-- It's the grandest of them a'. •'God bless the bonny HigLlan lers 1 We're saved! we're saved!" she cried, A:i 1 fell on her kneei; an I thanks to Go J Flowed forth hke a full flood tide. Along the battery-line her cry Has fallen among the men, An| they started back—tb")' were tbr to die, i But was life so near them then I The- listened for life ;the rattling fir# Far off and the far off roar, Were ail; and the colonel shook his head, And they turned to their guns once more. But Jes'ie said, "The slogan's done. But dim,a ye hear it r.oo. The Civipbelh a e rnmi>t' ! It's no a drrt m , Our succors hae broken through!" We heßrd the roar and the rattle afar, But the pipes we could nod hear; ti.e men plied th-ir work of hopeless war And knew that the end was near. It was not long ere it made its way— A shrilling, ceaseless sound; It was no noise from the strife afar, Or the sappers under ground. It the pipes of the Highlanders ! And now they played Auld Lavg ,S'> n• j It came to our men hke the voice of God, And they shouted along the line. And they wept and shook one anrther's hands, Aid the women sobbed in a crowd; And every one knelt down where he stood, And we ail thanked God aloud. That happy time; when we welcomed them, Thf men put Jessie Srst; And thy general gave her his hand, and cheers Like a storm, from the soldiers burit. Aiiii the pipers' ribbons and tartans streamed, *1 arching round and round our line; And our joyful cheers were broken with tears, As the pipe played Anli Ling Syne. ~A KENTLCKY ANECDOTE. A FOL'TUERN gentleman owned a slave, a very intelligent fellow, who was a Universalis!. On one occasion he illustrated the intellectual character of his religion in the following man ner : A certain slave had obtained a license ol the Raptists to preach. He was holding forth in the presence of many of his colored brethren at one time, when lie undertook to describe the pro cess of Adam's creation. Sail he,' When Ood made Adam, He stoop down, scrape up a little dirt, wet it a little, warm it in lie hands,and squeeze it in Ue right shape, and den lean it up against de fence to dry ' 'Top ! said our Universalis! darkey ; •you say dat are de fustus man eber made ?' 'Sartin !' said the preacher. •Den,'said the other, "jes tell a feller whar dat ar fence come from 'llush,' said the preacher ; ' two more ques tions like dat would spile all de feology in the world.' question has been raised in one ol our law courts, whether a blind mail can be made liable lor bill payable at sight. A Mere.—A thing that holds s young lady's hand without squeezing it. nit S f f 1 1 fl 11 C 0 tt s. COLONEL CRICKLEY'S HORSE. I have never been able to ascertain (hp of (he quarrel between the Crickleys and the Drakes. They have lived within a mile o each other in Illinois for five vears; and fron their first acquaintance, there ha s been a mu tual feeling of dislike between the two fam ilies. One evening Mr. Drake, the elder, was re turning home, u ith his 'pocket full of jocks' from Chicago, whither he had been to dispose of a load of grain. Sam Barston was with him on Ihe wagon, and a; they approached the grove which intervened between them and Mr. DiafceA tionse, he observed to bis companion: 'What a beautiful shot Col. Crickley's old roan is, over yonder?' •Hang it!'muttered old Drake,'so it is.' fhe horse was standing under some trees about twelve rods from the road. Involuntarily, Drake stopped his team. He glanced furtively around, then with a queer smile the old hunter took up iiis ritie from the bottom of the wag >n, and raising it to his shoul der, drew a sight on the Colonel's horse. 'Beautiful !' muttered Drake, lowering his rifle with the airot a man resisting a powerful temptation. *1 could drop old Roan so easy!' 'Shoot I' suggested Sam Barston, who loved fun in any shape. 'No, no, 'twouldn't do,' said the old hunter, glancing cautiously around him again. 'I won't tell,' sai I Sam. 'Wall. I won't shoot this time, any way, tell or no tell. Tim horse is too nigh. If lie was fifty rods ofF instead of twelve, so Ihere'd be a bare possibility of mistaking him lor a deer, I'd let fly. As it is, I'd give the Colonel five dol lars for a shot.' At that moment the Colonel himself stepped from behind a hig oak, not half a dozen paces distant, and stood tiefore Mr. Drake. 'Well, why don't yon shoot V The-olil man stammered out some words in confusion. 4 1 hat's you. Colonel 1 I— I was tempted to, I deciare ! And as 1 said, I'll give you a 4 V' for one pull.' • 'Say an l X' and it's a bargain !' Drake felt of his riile, and looked at old Roan. J ? 'How ntucli is the horse wuth Vhe muttered | in Sam's ear. •About fifty dollars.' 'Gad, Colonel, I'll do it. Here's your 'X!" The Colonel took and pocketed the money, muttering, 'hanged if J thought you'd take me up.' cajVVfnNilfs TM ht —At* mtgmi.-'jnii drew a close sight at old Roan. Sam liaiton chuckled. The Cojonei rut his hands before ins face and chuckled too. •Crack!' went the rifle. The hunter tote nut a horrid oath, which I will not repeat. Sam was astonished. The Colonel laughed. Old R san never stirred. Diake stared at his rme with a face as black as Othello's. 'What's the matter with you, hey! Fust time you ever sarved me such a trick, 1 swan. And Drake loaded the piece ivi'h great in ; digital ion and wrath. •People said you'd lo.d your knack o' shooting,' i observed the Colonel, in a cutting tone of sat ire. 'Who said so? It's a lie !' thundered Drake. 'I can shoot—' ' 'A horse at ten rods! ha !ha !' Drake was livid. \ 'Look here, Colonel, I can't stand that!' he i began. | 'py'eyef mind, the horse can,' sneered the ! Colon-1. 'l'll risk you.' 1 Grinding Ins teeth, Drake pioduced another | ten dollar bill. ! 'Here,' lie growled, 'l'm bound to have an- I other shot, any v\ ay.' 'Crack away,' said the Colonel, pocketing the | note. Drake did ciack away—with deadly aim, ' too—but the horse did not mind the bullet in : the lead. To the rage and unutterable aston i ishment of tile hunter, old iioau looked him right in the face, as if lie tat her liked the fun. ! 'Drake,'ci ied Sam, 'you're drunk ! Ahorse at a dozen lods—oh, my ey> " j 'Just shut your mouth, or I'll shoot you !' ' thundered the excited Drak®. j 'Tire bullet was hollow, I'll swear. The man ; lies that says I can't shoot. Last week I cut of! a goose's head at fifty rods, and I can do it a | gain. Colon' I, you can laugh, but I'll bet now, , thirty dollars, J can bringdown old Roan at one shot.' i The wager was readily accepted. The stakes 1 were placed in Sam's hands. Elated with the idea of v\ inning back his two tens, and making 1 a ten into the bargain, Drake carefully selected a perfect ball, and even buckskin patch, and loaded the rifle. It was now nearly dark, but the old hunter , boasted of being able to shoot a bat on the wing , bv starlight, and without hesitation he drew , a clear sight on old Roan's head. A minute later Drake was driving through | the grove, the most enraged, the most desperali . of men. Ilis rifle, innocent victim of ire, lay I . with broken stock in the bottom of the wagon. , Sam Harston was too much frightened to laugh Meanwhile the gratified Colonel was rolling on • the ground convulsed with mirth, and old Roan was standing undisturbed under the trees. When Drake reached home, his two son; - discovering his ill-humor, and the mutilalec condition of his rifle stock, hastened to arouse his spirits with news, which thev were sure would make him dance with joy. 'Clear out!' growled the old man. 'I don't want to bear any news; get away or I'll knock one of you down.* • Cut, father, it's such a trick played ofl on the Colonel.' •On the Colonel!'cried the old man, begin ning to be interested. 'Gad, if you've played the Colonel a trick, let's hear it.' 'Well, father, Jed and I this afternoon wdt out for dt-or—' ■ 'Hang the deer, come to the trick !' 'Couldn't find any deer, but thought W must shoot something; so Jed banged away I the Colonel's old Roan—shot him dead Shot old Roan?' thundered the hunter. •Jed did you shoot the Colonel's ol I boss?' '1 didn't do anything else.' 'And then.' paused Jed, confident theTiwk part must please his father, 'Jim and I the horse up, and ti-d his head hack with a core and left him standing under the tree, just ?"■ • lie was alive. Hi 'ha ! Fancy The Colone^o 1, ingto catch him! Ho! ho! wa'nt it a jok V Old Drake's head fell on his breast. HeHl of his empty pocket-book, and looked at is rifle. I hen, in a rueful tone, he whisperedto the boy: ; „ 'lt's a joke ! Rut iftyou ever tell ol it—r if you do, Sam Barston —l'll skio_you aim! Vvt been shooting at that dead horse half a. hour at ten dollars a sho'.' , At that moment Sam fell into the gutter.— Sam bad laughed himself almost to death. \N I A LUCKV M I .SIC lA\. j John Phcenix recently saw on boaid a rail road I ram a boy will) an accordeon. Of this John thus speaks: ''lt was alter eleven o'clock ; (he (rain had : passed New Brunswick, and (he passeng"rs were I Irvine to sleep, (ha ! ha ') when the boy entcr- I ed. He was a seedy youth, with a seal skint cap, a singularv dirty face a gray jacket of the ventilating order, and a short bnt "very remark able broad pair of "corduroys." He wore an enormous bag or haversack about his neck, and held in his hand that most infernal and detest able instrume nt, the accordeon. I despise that instrument of music. They pull the music out of it, and it comes forth struggling and reluc tant, like a cat drawn by the tail from an ash hole, or a squirrel pulled shrieking from a hol low log with a ramrod. 1 lie unprincipled boy commenced pulling at this thing, and horrified us with (hp most awful version of "Old Dog i rat that I ever listened to. Then he walked round the car, and standing close to the stove, which was red hot—the night being cold he essayed to pull out "Pop (locs the VVea.se!," when suddenly pop went the boy : he dropped the acco-dcoti, burst into tears, and clapping hi- : hands behind him, executed a frantic dance, accompanied by yells of the most agonizing character, j saw it all, and felt grateful to a refiibutive Providence. He hat! stool too, near the stove, and his corduroys were in aJ blaze..'. fi-u> lich.- i ,• *■ got on fire the conductor got him out, and a sweet and ineffable calm came over me. 1 re alized that "whatevi r is, is light," and fell into a deep and happy sleep." A FEW THOUGHTS FOR INFIDELS. Infidels inform us that the Bible is a bundle of incc n.-istf ucit s, fabricated by men. Admitting this to be true, 'he Bible was certainly written by men who were endowed with great wisdom and righteousness, whose inconsistencies of men in general, have in a!! ages of the Christian era, tended to promote "peace 011 earth and good will toward men." There is nothing in the commands and pre- 1 cepts of the Bible, which if care/ullv observed j and obeyed, would conllict in the least, with ; man's highest good in the things of this world, j Then why should the Bible, which is so friend- ! !y to man in its spirit and teachings, be train pled under foot and discarded ? It was the j spirit of the Bible lhat fired the hearts and strung j the nerves of our Revolutionary fathers, ami j made them successful in hurling from them the I yoke of British tyranny, and in planting on | A merit an soil the standardof civil and reii gious lib-rty. And it was by the spirit of the ; Bible that they were guided in framing our na- J tional constitution, in which instrument is j guarantied to us the inalienable right to "life liberty, and the pursuit of happiness"—a l ight which is indispensable to the prosperity of na tions as well as individuals. Yet, could infidels persuade all men to believe thev believe, that the Scriptures are not inspiied, and denv Ihe divine origin of Christianity, and thus remove! from the public mind ail f< ar of a future retribu tion for sin, it would not he long until the flag of freedom would cease to Wave over America, and bo trampled in blood beneath the feet of outlaws, civil war reigning throughout rur now happy land, sweeping away all traces of a re pubiican government, having no standard of justice and mercy, (io back, if you please, to the time when infidelity leigned over France, if you wish to know- what nun will do when there is no fear of God before their minds—no faith in the Bible—no dread of future punish ment fur sin. [f w hat I have said be true, the infidel should be regarded as the worst enemy to our govern rnent and free institutions and unworthy of the name of an American citizen. Whether the Bible be of God or man, it is our only safe guide to lasting prosperity and happiness, and this fact is the strongest evidence lhat the Bible is really the word of God.— Connersville Times. ADOPTED CITIZENS. —John Mitchell, in his lecture on "The Duties ol European Refugees," held distinctly that, unless adopted as citizens, refugees have no right to involve or imperil their asylum or refuge-land, and that il adopt ed as citizens their duties are precisely the same —neither more nor less—as those of citizens native horn ; ami that all acts or manifestations unbecoming the citizen, in regard to domestic afla irs or foreign relations, are equally unbe coming the adopted citizen. This is sound and timely doctrine, and we regard it as a good omen that its utterance was warmly cheered. CJ?" Accomplishments and ornamental learning are somi-times acquired at the expense of usefulness. — The tree which grows the tallest, and is most thick ly clothed with leaves, is not the bearer, but rather the contrary. Freedom offhonght and Opinion. BEDFORD, PA, EIDAY MORNING, APRIL 2, 1858. j SPEECH OF HON. WILLIAM HOPKINS, In the Democratic State Convention. Hon. Wm. Hopkins, of Washington county, rose to address the convention, saying : Mr. President—As I do not intend to partici pate in the discussion of these resolutions T de sire to make a explanatory of my position in thisconvention. The Democratic convention of my county passed a resolution disapproving of the President's Kansas policy ; they afterwards appointed me one of the dele gates to this convention with a full knowledge of my sentiments. I stated to that convention that if I would be expected to unite in ■*- of censure on Mr. Buchanan UiAacgard* -to"*Ry portion of his policy, th#y had better select an | other agent. A resolution was then offered to instruct the delegates to carry out in the State i Convention the sentiments expressed in the res olution of disapproval. I I then staled to the convention that if the resolution should be adopted, I would resign . upon the spot, for I woulJ suffer political mar ■j tyrdom before 1 would unite in a vote of cen sure upon a man to whom I had been devoted ( all my life, when I believed that in all his acts ! he was governed by the purest motives andsa t desire to promote the best interests of fRe coun try. After considerable discussion, to adjourn was carried by a large the I avowed purpose of defeating the resolutTb'n of instruction. An I now, Mr. President, I trust that I will be pardoned for making an allusion to the distinguished statesman who now occupies . the Presidential chair. In view of the relations i which have subsisted between us, it seems to i me, that it would not be improper that I should ;lo so. Almost a quarter of a cerrtury ago, in this very hall, I voted for James Buchanan for i United Slates Senator. It was in 1534-, the iirst time he was elected. I also voted for him subsequently for lite same position. Mv native county instruct-< 1 for him every time his 1 name was mentioned in connection with the .■■trice h ■ now holds with so much honor to him "H well as to his country. I voted for him io two Slate and two National Conventions, and there has never been an hour since the first suggestion of his name in that connection, that i I would not rather have seen him President i than any other living man. These are mv feelings to-day. Is it any wonder then, that if 1 I fbnnd myself in a position of antagonism with J one to whom I had been so long devoted, and in whose patriotism and statesmanship I had ! such unbounded confidence, tnat I should pause -1 before taking ground against anv leading ineas f comp'iratinn vftis first presented, ] ccfußTl^W * see, eye to eye with the President, as his annual message was interpreted by the central organ, : the Washington Union. lam free to confess, that I have always believed, and do now believp, that the whole constitution ought to have been submitted to the people of Kansas, for their ap proval or r< jection. I admit, however, the correctness of the President's position, when liesavs, that the convention was not bound by the it cms of the Kansas-X-biaska bill, to submit loan election, the whole constitution. But, ! still, I maintain that they ought, in obedience to public sentiment, as well as to Ihe President's expressed desire, to have submitted the consti ■ tut ion to a popular vote of those to be governed by it. This, I think, would have been in con .-onar.ee with the spirit of the organic act. The i President clearly indicated a desire and belief that tiiis stthmisMon should be made, when he . told Gov. Walker, in his instructions, that when * the constitution should he submitted, the peo j pie must be protected in the right to vote, un influenced by fraud or violence. Did he not I also fully indorse the doctrine of submission in j his annual inessag. ? What else can be infirm) from his language—'• 1 trust, however, the ex ample set by the last Congress, requiring that the constitution of Minnesota should be subject I to the proposed new State, may be followed on future occasions. And again : '-I took it for granted, that the convention of Kansas would act in acccordance with this example, founded as it is, upon correct principles, and hence my instructions to Gov. Walker in favor of submit ting the constitution to the people were expres j sed in general and unqualified terms. V\ hat more cotlld the President have done to have se cured a fair expression of the people of Kansas upon their constitution? But the convention re ' fused to be guided bv the wise and patriotic 1 counsel oft he President; ami I knew of no power under the convention, poss'sed by the Presi dent to ccmpell obedience to his wishes in '-..this respect, and the constitution sent the con -1 id it ut ion to Washington without submitting it * to a vote of the people, and we are now brought (o tlir question what had best be done ? The President alter having exhausted all his power—which was but advisory—to have the people of Kansas afforded a lair opportunity of voting, upon their constitution, and failing to accomplish' that object, now recommends the immediate admission of the State, accompanied with the suggestion that Congress should recog nize in the act of admission the right ol the peo ple at any and all times to alter, amend or abolish their constitution, if a majority be oppo sed to it as it is.— This, lie thinks, will rid Con gress of the agitation ; and that if a majority of the people of that Territory be opposed to sla very. they can relieve themselves horn it as readily, if not more so, in that way than in any other mode. In arriving at this conclusion, the President has doubtless looked over the whole : "round, at the persistent obstinacy of' the one partv in refusing to vote at the June election | for delegates to "the constitutional convention, and the repeated acts of rebellion against the laws bv the same party, as well as the frauds and acts of violence that have been perpetrated I by the other party. His policy is to localize S the controversy, "and thus "leave the people of the State perfectly free to regulate their domea ' tic institutions in their own way." Cannot this 1 suggestion of the President be adopted a? ai basis iof "compromise, without any sacrifice ol honor | on either side? If it be admitted (and for my | self I do not doubt it.) that the moment - Kansas 1 becomes a State, it wilt be competent for her ' people to alter the constitution, then what practical difference can it make to the people there, whether they be admitted with the Le compton or Topeka constitution ? If a majori ty are opposed to slavery—as is doubtless the j case—all they have to do is to order a conven tion through the legislature, and in ninety davs they can have just such a constitution as a majority desire. What evil then can result i Jrom adopting the policy recommended by the JSI resident in irts special message? Can we not gftill unite in this, and thus put a stop lp discord in our own ranks, and at the same time blast the hopes of the op|>osition ? It is, perhaps, not all that some could wish ; but can any other mode of adjustment be devised that promises to 1 satisfy ail or even as many as are prepared to j ' sustain the plan suggested ? If so, what is it ? Islhere nakjomethmg due to majorities in this case ? Thatgp-eat and good man, that venerable j statesman, whose whole life has been one of j "vol ion to his country's best interests, recom mends that Kansas be admitted at once. In this he is sustained by that monument of wisdom pafrioiism, and incorruptible integrity, Gen Cass, as well as every other of the distinguished gentlemen who are officially associated with rtkn, together with an overwhelming of members of Congress ofooth branches. Then let us rally around the Presi dent of our choice, who is thus supported. Let any diversify of opinion that may have existed among Democrais, which may have led to ! crimination and recrimination, be forgotten. ! Let the latitude of discussion which has hitherto characterized our great party, be now indulged. Let all remember that we are one common ; brotherhood, and that upon our unity of action depends our success, and that upon the success : :of (he Democratic party depend the peace, j prosperity ami glory of our beloved conutry, if ; j not indeed the perpetuity of the Union. Mr. President, whatever others may do, I have resolved to stand by the old ship Democ racy, guided by its pxpeiiencrd commander, James Buchanan. YVs, sir, like the tempest tossed marner, when he finds the billows dash . ing against the vessel which has carried him so ■ often safely and triumphantly through the storm and when, perchance, the raging elements may have rent her sail.-, shattered her arms, and riv j en her mast to its very base, he clings to the , hull as his last hope of safety. So now, sir j when danger threatens and the storm rages, I will cling to the President, who has served his of our hopes for the future". " SENATOR!AL SKETCHES. THE lively Washington correspondent of the Boston Traveler gives us the following sketch of distinguished Senators: . Senator Davis, by the way. is generally supposed, I find to be a rough back-woods-man —a stump speaker of (lie Cullum calibre; but all, on his re-appearance in the Senate, w ere agreeably surpris* d. He is t 11, spare, thin, well dressed in neatly fitted biack clothes, is closely shaven, and appears gentlemanly. When lie addresses the Senate, it is in a low, weil pitched voice, modulated tone, which J often seems musical, and in a slow, but flowing i manner, the words distinet.but seeming to melt j ill each other, and in language bearing signs ol j great effort at a good choice ; sometimes of a ; want of taste, but never of a want of pains in j their selection. His gestures are easy, though i , sometimes lather awkward, as he is so tall. In speaking, his manners are unembarassed, and • though sometimes full of enthusiasm, are never violent. He (evidently aims at logic rather I ban eloquence. He is considered as the ablest debater on the Administration side; in theab sence ol Douglas. . Lord Napier, at the last levee of the President, gaveliis opinion ofsever- j al Senators in the following words, which are valuable as characteristic of his lordship, as well : I as conveying the general opinion of the public j ! in regard to the men he mentioned. He said: "Ol the Senate, Mr. Seward is the most astute j ■ politician—Mr Hunter the profoundest thinker, j - Mr. Davis the ablest debater, and Mr. Sumner the deepest scholar." Senator Hunter is well described by his lord ship. At the head of the Finance Committee of the Senate for the last four 'years he has brought out measures and reports which exhibit a profundity of thought and research which is of itself highly creditable, whatever may be said of their direction. In the general couise of debate betakes but little par t, but what he says is always to the point. As his attention is almost always centred on the dry detail of finance, he seldom gives the Senate an oppor tunity to witness his powers : but when he does, his speeches are received with the deepest atten tion. Few who heard his remarks on the death of Brooks will forget their solemn beauty, and their delicate, appropriate tribute to the merits even we allowed that he possessed, and the deprecating manner, rather than wotds, by which, while Senator Hunter was speaking,our thoughts were kept far from the one act by which all the good qualities of the deceased are now covered by the dark veil ol obloquy. THE HAIR OF THE PRESIDENTS. In the Patent Office at Washington, there are many objects of interest connected with the ijovei nment and those who administered its a flairs in times gone by. While examining some of these objects of curiosity, w hen 111 Washington, in December last, there was noth ing that struck us so forcibly as the samples, of s.mall locks of hair, taken from the heads of different chief magistrates, from Washington down to President Pierce, secured in a frame, covered with glass. Here is, in fact, a pail and parcel of what once constituted the living bodies of those illustrious individuals, whose names are as familiar as household words, but who now live only in history and the remem brance of the past. WHOLE HOIBEK 2790. Tbe hair of Washington ia nearly a pur# white, fine and smooth in appearance. That ot John Adams is nearly the same in color, though perhaps a little coarser. The hair of Jefferson is of a different char acter, being a mixture of white and auburn, or a sandy brown, and rather coarse. In his youth, Air. Jefferson's hair was remarkable for it 3 bright color. The hair of Madison is coarse, and of a mix ed white and dark. The hair of Aionroe is a handsome dark au burn, smooth and free from any admixture what ever. He is the only President except Pierce, whose hair had undergone no change in col or. The hair of John Quincy Adams is some what peculiar, being coarse and of a yellowish gray in color. Ihe hair of Gen. Jackson is almost a per fect white, but coarse in its character, as might be supposed by those who have examined the portraits of the old hero. , The hair of Van Buren is white and smooth in appearance. The hair of Gen. Harrison is a fine white, with a slight admixture of black. The hair of John Tyler is a mixture of white and brown. The h3ir of James K. Polk is almost a pure white. The hair of Gen. Taylor is white, with a slight adrnixiure of brown. The hair of Millard Fillmore is, on the oth er hand, brown, with a slight admixture of white. I he hair of Franklin Pierce is a dark brown, of which he has a plentiful crop. DO IS AXD GIRLS. U eagrep with Life Illustrated, when it says, hoys must have trades and p r ofessions. That is right. Every boy should understand that he is to learn well to do some kind of business ; that lie is to earn his living, and make himself use ful in the world. That he has a rich father, is no reason why he should live in idleness. Train t lie boy to a useful occupation. Yes, if you would have him happy and hon ored, if you would make him of the least con sequence in the world, if you would save him from vice, misery, and ruin, train trim to in dustry. No one should live in the world with out sharing its common burdens and common joys—the responsibilities of reciprocal service and sympathy. Boys are bred to business. Why are not girls ? Are their minds in less danger of run- T-lRe fourwld I-TO trn'.i/'N aril uiKieh No;as the world is, girls can not be per fectly pure without occupation. The unem ! ployed mind i< not happy. Every girl should be taught some branch of industry, should be come skillful in some kind of work, either mental or physical, by which she can support j herselfhonorably. No healthy grown girl should Ibe satisfied to remain a tax on her father. Are her parents' means small ? By the teaching and practice of some art, she can earn her mon ; ey, and add much to the comfort and the I charms of home. She will be proud to do this, |if she has been trained to feel so. She owes : it to her own soul, as means of its elevation ; and growth. Have the parents ample means? | Still, she could not merely exist, of no more 1 account than a china toy or a bit of gilding. ! She can share the mother's duties, becoming her j right hand, and the light of the father's eyes. At the same time, she should be thoroughly i versed in certain branches of either Art or | Science, that in case of reverses, so common i ttow-a days, she can gain an honest, indepen ! dent livelihood. All girls should be thoroughly taught all the necessary details ot housekeeping—else they shame their mot tiers, and they v\ ill bring misery on their own families. The needle, broom, ami duster are not the sole implements of indus tiv adapted to women. The pen she has taken. By the pencil she has surpassed her brother. The marble, beneath her fingers, gives birth to beauty so exquisite as to draw tears from the eyes of stern men. Let her goon. She can, with perfect pro priety, as she becomes conscious ot inclination and capacity, become physician, merchaut lectu rer—anything good for which God has endow ed her. But some steady occupation she should have. Train girls to definite and useful employ ment, if you would render them good and hap py. Familiarize them, early, with the idea that they are to become skillful in some art or profession—that they are to be adepts in some useful work. Thus, they will be helps meet for their brothers, and the blessing of humanity. OLD SCRATCH'S OPIKIOX OF POLITICAL PREACHERS. —"The devil," ears Luther, held an anniversary, at which his emmisarips were convened to report the result of their several missions." "I let loose the wild beasts of the desert," said one, "on a caravan ot Christians, and their bones are now bleaching on the sand." "Pshaw said the devil, "their souls were all saved." "I drove the east wind," said another, "a gainst a ship freighted with Christians, and they were all drowned." "What of that ? their souls were all saved." | "For three years," said the third, "I cultiva ; ted an acquaintance with an independent min ister ol the gospel; at last I became very inti -1 mate with him, and then I persuaded him to | preach politics and throw away his Bible." j "Then," continued Luther, "the devil shout j ed, as the devil only can shout, and all the night stars sang lor joy." luck is a man with his hands in hit breeches pockets, and a pipe in his mouth, look ing on to see how it will come. Good luck it a man to meet difficulties, his sleeves rolled up, and working to make it come out right. VOL 1, NO. 35.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers