ill* ||nijmwi IS PUBLISHED 1- VERY l-'HI DAY MOUNINCI BY H, IX U BOH 110 IV AND JOHN 1,1 TZ, UN II i,l ANA Ihe Ucßgi'l House HICUFOKI), PENN'A TERMS: • .00 tear if paid strictly in advance, li mil iiald within six mouths 82.30. II not |mid within the year 83.00. & gustos AHOIt XF Y S AT LAW. I T. KEACiY, ,1 . ATTORN EY-AT-LAW. ... Office opposite Reed A Schell's Bank. Counsel given in English and German. [pl2(i] M _ , ssRLI J. II- I/OSOBSEI KER. 0 VSSKLL A RONGENKCKER, |\ Attorneys A CocaSELLOas at Law, Bedford, Pa., Will attend promptly and faithfully to all busi ness entrusted to their earc. Speeial attention given to collections and the prosecution of claims f. r Hack Pay, Bounty, Pensions, Ac. jfOffiee on Juliana street, south ot the Court Uouee. Aprils:lyr. B r nr-*— J - *• 9WKitM9 MEYERS a dickebson, ATTORNEYS AT LAW BEDFORD, I'ESN A., Office same as formerly occupied by Hon. W. P. s 'iell two doors east of the Gazette office, will .. the .everal Courts of Bedford county. Pensions, bounties and back pay obtained and the purchase of Real K-tatc attended to. .Way 11, 'fi6—tyr. 1 B. CESSNA, ,1 attorney at law, ,"ni' e with John Cessna, on Jidianna street, in tfr office formerly occupied by King A Jordan, a,, 1 recently by Filler A Keagy. All business enlro ted to bis care will receive faithful and prompt attention. Military Claims. Pensions, Ac., . necdily collected. Bedford. June H, 18IS5. j- m'D. *■ F • KERtt 01IARPE A KERR, A TTORNE YS-A T-LA U . Will practice in the Courts of Bedford and ad joining counties. All business entrusted to tlnir care will receive careful and prompt attention. P. i sions. Bounty, Back Pay, Ac., speedily col lected from the Government. Office on Juliana street, opposite the banking house of Reed A Schell, Bedford, Pa. uiar2df j. K. dirborrow JOHN I I tz. nil RBORROW A r.UTZ, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, Bedford, Pa., W:I1 ;,:tend promptly to all business intrusted to their rare. Collections made on the shortest no 'tlo y ure, also, regularly licensed Claim Agents and will give special attention to tho prosecution . hiiins against the Government for Pensions, Back l ay, Bounty, Bounty Lands, Ac. Office on Juliana street, one door South of the • Mcngel House" and nearly opposite the ''r" F ' r April 28, liSPY M. AI-SIP, \ j ATTORNEY AT LAW, Bedford, PV., Will faithfully and promptly attend to all busi ness entrusted to his care in Bedford and adjoin iu" .-..unties. Military claims, Pensions, back v. Bounty, Ac. speedily collected. Office with M ,inn A Spang, on Juliana street. 2 doors south ■ Mcngel'll "use. apl 1, 1844. U. M. A. POINTS, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Bedford, PA. ! . ncctfuUy tenders his professional services • ho public* Office with J. W. Lingenfelter, I . n Juliana street, two doors South of the n Dec. , 1844-tL Kimmell AND linxienfelter, ATTORNEYS AT LAW. Bedford, pa. Have formed a partnership in tho practice ot Law Office on Juliana Street, two doors south !' the Mcngel House, n.rl- 1884—tf. - I i:\TISTS. S \KNTISTRY. I J j, S. BOWSER, Resident Dentist, W ooi>- uitv. Pa., visits Bloody Run three days of each nth,' commencing with the second Tuesday of the month. Prepared to j>ert"nu all Dental opcr a'i-.n? with which he may be favored. Term* iht re i- h of all find etrietly rath except bq i-rt t",'tract. Work to be sent by mail or oth ., utust be paid for when imprr . sions arc taken, augi, '4:tf. PHisioAm 1 \ 11. S. G. STATLEK, near ScheDsburg, and I ) Or. J. J. CLARKE, formerly of Cumberland ,unt\, having associated tlicmsclves in the prac t Medicine, respectfully offer their profes ■ rial -urviccs to the citizens of Schcllsburg and i nit v. Dr. Clarke's office and residence same formerly occupied by J. White, Esq dec'd. S. G. STATLER, -chellst.urg, Aprill2:lv. J- J- CLARKE. \ITM. \V. .JAMISON, M. D., \\ Bloody Ron, Pa., K.-pc- tfully tenders hia professional services to On- i-t pie of that place and vicinity. [dccß:lyr I vi;. B. F. HARRY, 1 ) Respectfully tenders his professional ser vice to the citizens of Bedford and vicinity, o . and residence on Pitt Street, in the building formerly occupied by Dr. J.H- Hofina. April I, IS64—tf. J L. MARBOUItO, M- I> • ') . Having permanently located respectfully tenders his pofcssional services to the citizen, d Bedford and vicinity. Office on Juliana street, nii .-dte the Bank, one door north of Hall A Pal .tier' - office. April 1, 1864-tf. JEWKLKK, Ac. \ lI.SALOM GARLU'K, j\ CLOCK AND WATCH-MAKER, BLOODT RRS, PA. Hocks. Watches, Jewelry, Ac., promptly re quired. All work entrusted to his care, warranted to give satisfaction. lie also keens on hand and for sale Il'.l TCII KS, CLOCKS, and -'A' WKLH >'. ,'£s?T" "Office with Dr. J. A. Mann. niy4 LYVXIEI, BORDER, 1/ PITT STRSET, two noons WEST OF TUB BEI>- FORD HOTEL, BF.EFORD, PA. V ATI lIMAKER AND DEALER IX JEWEL RY. SPECTACLES. AC. Ik- keeps on hand a stock of fine Gold and Sil ver Watch"*, Spectacles of Brilliant Double Ilefin : I tibisses, also Scotch Pebhlc Glasses. Gold Watch Chains, Breast Pins. Finger Rings, best quality of Gold Pens. He will supply to order any thing in his line not on hand. apr.2B, 1865—zz. hW. CROCSE WHOLE?ALE TOBACCON IST, <>n I*< nn street a few doors west of the Court II o-e, Xorth side, Bedford, Pa., is now prepared to ell by wholesale all kinds of CIGARS. All tiers pr mptly filled. Persons desiring anything in his line will do wcil to give him a call. Bedford, Get 20. '65., I)\TPP A SHANNON, BANKERS, ■ V BEPFORT), PA. RANK OF DISCOUNT AND DEPOSIT. C dec ini, made for the East, West, North and "Uth, ar. i the general business ol Exchange transuded. 2i< tcs and Accounts Collected and Remittances proinptlymadc. REAL ESTATE bought and sold. feb22 tjMIOMAS WhRWINE, MANIFACTURER OF CABINET WARE, &C-, BEDFORD, PA. The undersigned having purchasad the Shop Tools, A .of the late WBJ, Stahl, dee d, is now prepared to do all kinds of CABINET WORK in good -tyle and at the shortest notice, at the OLD ST \ND in West Pitt strett. /'■ff- Having a HEARSE, he is also prepared to furnish COFFINS an I ATTEND FL'NEItALS THOMAS MEHWINE. Marchl j; via. DFKBOKKOW A LUTZ Editors and Proprietors. THE BLUEBELLS OIF NEW ENG LAND. The roses are a regal troop, And humble folks the daisies.; But, Bluebells of New England, To you I give my praises,— To you, fair phantoms in the sun, Whom merry Spring discovers, With bluebirds for your laureates, And honey-bees for lovers. The south-wind breathes, and lo! you throng This rugged land of ours ; I think the pale blue clouds of May- Drop down, and turn to flowers! By cottage doors along the roads Yon show your winsome faces. And, like the spectre lady, haunt The lonely woodland places. All night your eyes are closed in sleep, Kept fresh for day's adorning : Such simple faith as yours can see God's coming in the morning! You lead me by your holiness To pleasant ways of duty : You set my thoughts to melody, You fill me with your beauty. And you are like the eyes I love, So modest and so tender, Just touched with daybreak's glorious light, And evening's quiet splendor. Long may the heavens give yon rain, The suushine its caresses, Long may the woman that I love Entwine you in her tresses. LITTLE MAI D. O where is our dainty, our darling, The daintiest darling of all ? Where is the voice on the stairway, Where is the voice in the hall? The little short steps in the entry, The silvery laugh in the hall ? Where is our dainty, our darling, The daintiest darling of all. Little Maud The peaches are ripe in the orchard, The apricots ready to fall ; And the grapes reach up to the sunshiue Over the garden wall. O rosebud of women ! where are you ? (She never replies to our call!) Where is our dainty, our darling. The daintiest darling of all, Little Maud 1 —> THE SUSQUEHANNA RIVER. IV'e find the following interesting, descrip tive and historical sketch of the Su*quehan na in the Lycoming Standard: If there is a more beautiful spot of earth than that where the men of Paxton settled, we have neve seen it. From its source in Otsego Lake, where the great American novelist has described it in language that will never cease to be read: along by its lovely windings, where the Chemung inter sect.- the North Branch, whose beauties have been embalmed by one of our most graceful poets; by the X alley of \\ joining, which lives forever in the imagination of Campbell, but which is fairer even than the semi-tropical fancy of which he was enamor ed; on by tbe bold scenery* ot the meeting of its waters at Northumberland, to its broad glory, celebrated in the New Pastor ; al, and its magnificent union with the Cbesa | peake, every mile of tbe Susquehanna is bountiful Other rivers have their points of loveliness or of grandeur, the Susquehan i na has every form of beauty or sublimity that belongs to rivers. We have seen them all: Connecticut, Hudson, Delaware, Ohio, Mississippi and Missouri. There is nothing lite the Stismiehanna on this contiuent. Its peculiar character depends upon its ori gin in the New York meadows, its passage through the magnificent Pennsylvania high lands and the mountains. Everywhere its course is deflected; it begins a wooded lake; it winds a limped brooked by meadows and over river pebbles; mak< s its way through mountains; it loiters, restiugly, by their bases; it sweeps in broad courses by the val leys. Its vast width, in its mad spring freshets, when swollen by the melted snows, it rushes from the hills with irresistible force, sometimes causing frightful inuda tions. leaves, with its falls, island after island in its channel, of the richest green, and most surpassing beauty; while those passes through the mountains afford points of scenery far finer than any one would be lieve them to be from any description, if he hail not seen them. The Susquehanna makes the grandest of; these passages, just below the mouth of the ; •Juniata. Its course there is several miles lone, before it entirely disengages itaelf from j the rapids, called Hunter's Falls, which arc | the remains of the rocky harries which once ; ! resisted its way. Entirely at liberty, it i [tours its stream, a mile wide, along a chan nel some fifty or sixty feet beneath its bank. About seven miles below the mountains, at a point where they look blue in the distance, a sheltering wall from the northern blasts, flows in a Tittle stream which the Indians called Pcxetang. Faixtang, or Faxton. This mountain is the northern boundary of 1 the great valley, which, underlaid with blue limestone, covered originally with the rich est. and noblest forest-growth and including within it thegarden of ail the Atlantic slope, extends from Fasten, on the Delaware, by Reading, Lebanon and Lancaster, by Ilar risburg, York and Carlisle, by Chauibers burg. Hagerstown arid Winchester, until it loses itself in the North Carolina hills. — The point of greatest beauty is the spot where it is cloven by the Susquehanna. A hundred and forty years ago, an enter prising young man, from Yorkshire, in Fng land, by descent, probably one of those Scandivavians, who, under the great Canute, held possession of the North of England, and cave its main character to it, made his way to Philadelphia. He married here a lady who came over with a well known Yorkshire family ol this city. Impelled by the same enterprising spirit that brought him from tbe old world, and using the in evitable eye that was characteristic of him, he went to the batiks of the Susquehanna. He settled for a brief period at a point above Columbia, where the village of Bainbridge now stands, a plaee much frequented by the Cenoy or Gawanese Indians. But he was not satisfied with this location. Exploring upwards along the eastern bank of the Sus quehanna, lie advanced until, instead of the , Conevaga hill at his back and on tbe oppo A LOCAL AND GENERAL NEWSPAPER, DEVOTED TO POLITICS, EDUCATION, LITERATURE AND MORALS site side of the river, he found the entrance j opposite to him of the most beautiful valley, I already described, with two fine streams flowing into the river about five miles apart, and on the eastern side an elevated plateau unsurpassed in loveliness in the wide world, with the little Paxton flowing at the base of an elevated slope of ridge of land. Here he settled, and the ferry across the river to the I entrance of the Cumberland Valley was called after him. His son, the first white child born west of the Conewaga hills, subsequently laid out a : town on the spot and with singular fore thought set apart six acres on a noble hill which rises on the northwest, which he convoyed to the State for public purposes. The Capitol of Pennsylvania is now built j upon it, and the city of Ilarrisburg bears his name. ■MODERN ATHENS. A correspondent of the Chicago Tribune, writing from Athens, describes it as a pleas ant town of 60,000 inhabitaants, support ing twenty three papers, of which eight are dailies, which circulate not only in Greece, but among the Greeks in Turkey. After alluding to the general resemblance of tho place to Edinburgh, he adds: "The chief attraction to travelers is, of course, the display of ancient art in the ru ins which tell of what Greece once was. It has been a great pleasure, not unmixed with sadness, to wander amid those won drous architectural remains which point out the site of classic Athens. The modern city lies on an inclined plain, with the nigh, sharp-peaked hill Lyabetties to the north ; -Mars Ilill, the Acropolis and some undula ting giound at the base of Mount Hymettns to the east; the range of Pentelicus, fa mous for its marble, and now tipped with snow, at the remote west, and the flat, low ground, covered with olive trees and vine yards, running down to the Pirassus, on the south. The Parthenon shows from afar on the top of the Acropolis, riveting the gaze of the beholder by its beauty. A close inspec tion adds to one's admiration, by revealing, in addition to the perfection of its propor tion and materials, the exquisite statuary and carving, whose fractured relics make one almost weep over the vandalism that destroyed the most precious works of an cient art. Great care is now taken to pre serve all that, survives, as also to gather up and display the beautiful fragments of sculp ture that are found in excavations. A guard followed at our heels everywhere, to see that wc mutilated no delicate work, neither carried off a column of" the Parthenon under our arm, and we did neither, though we saw where a Frenchman had wontonly bro ken off the fine profile of a face to secure a memento, and where Lord Elgin, years ago, had plundered the Parthenon of the most elaborate of its sculptured marble, sending back plaster casts of a part instead. At the southern base of the Acropolis are two ancient theaters, with their seats rising steeply tier above tier in the open air, show ing how audiences of twenty or thirty thou sand were accommodated. One, the Thea ter of Bacchus, woo ehieflv o*- cct'lt liiu fortune, and ho joined ! the band of the Durham Militia, in which jhe played the oboe. The regiment was ly | ing at Doncaster, where Dr. Miller first be | came acquainted with Hersehel, haying ! heard him perform a solo on the violin in a i surprising manner. The doctor entered ! into conversation with the youth, and was so pleased with him, that he urged him to leave the militia band, and take up his residence at his house; for a time Herschel did so, and while at Doncaster, wa9 princi pally occupied in violin playing at concerts, availing himself of the advantages of Dr. Mill' r's library tostudy, in 'tis leisure hours. A new organ having been built tor the par ish church of Halifax, an organist was ad vertised for, on which Herschel applied for the office and was selected. While officiat ing as organist and music teacher at Halifax, he began to study mathematics, unassisted by any master. Leading the wandering life of an artist, he was next attracted to Bath, where he played in the Pump-room band, and also as organist in the Octagon chapel. Some recent discoveries in astronomy hav ing arrested his mind, and awakened in him a powerful spirit of curiosity, he sought and obtained from a friend the loan of a two foot Gregorian telescope. So fascinated was the poor musician by the science, that he even thought of buying a telescope, but the price asked by the London opticians was so alarm ing, that he determined to make one. Those who know what a reflector telescope is. and the skill which is required to prepare the concave metallic speculum, which forms the most important part of the apparatus, will be able to form some idea of the diffi culty of the undertaking. Nevertheless. Herschel succeeded, after long and painful labor, in completing a five-foot reflector, with which he had the gratificatson of ob serving the rings and satellites of Saturn. Not satisfied with this triumph be proceed [ to make other instruments in succession, of BEDFORD. Pa- FRIDAY. MAY 10. 18G7 seven, ten and twenty feet. In constructing the seven-foot reflector, he tim.Jied no fewer than two hundred specula befire he pro duced one that would bear any power that was applied to it, a striking instance of the persevering laborioutne-s of the man. While sublimely gauging the hi|vens with his instruments no continued jratiaptly to earn his bread by piping to the fashionable frequenters of the Bath Pump room. So eager was he in his astronomical ob servations, that he would steal I way from the room, during an interval of tie perform ance, give a little turn to his tc'eieope, and contentedly return to his obe. Thus working away, Hersebcl disavered the Georgium Sidus, the orbit and rite of mo tion of which he carefully calculated, and sent the result to the Itoyal Sociew, and the humble oboe-player found himsff at onca elevated from obscurity to fame He was shortly after appointed Astronomer Royal, and by the kindness of George 111, was placed in a position of honorable iDmpeten cy for life. He bore his honors with the same meckucss and humility whicthad dis tinguished him in the days of okcurity. So gentle and patient, withal sodisiinguish ed and successful a follower of srieace under difficulties, perhaps does not occur in the whole range of biography.— Chishan In telligencer. IIENKY WARD IIEECIIER UN LOVE. The following is front a recent sermon by tho pastor of Plymouth church: On earth there is nothing moie beautiful than the first breaking of young, strong, new, pure love. No flowers tha ever blos somed, however fair; nor fragran.e that any flower ever emitted, however swiet; no bra very of the sky; no witchery of art; nothing that man ever invented or imagined, is to be compared with the hours of dawning love in the young soul. And it is a shatno that men should be taught to be ashamed of that which is the prophecy of their higaest be ing and glory. Alas, that men should not know that to endure it must rise higher, since it is only by growing into its full and later disclosures that it must be saved from quick mortality, It must grow or dip; for that which suffices for a beginning is not enough lor all, and for all time. Love, therefore, should be a school-mas ter, carrying its pupils up from room to room, through the whole university of the mind. As the lower begins first, it ends first. The higher, beginning latest lasts the longest. And, hence, true affection is strongest in the latter periods of being. Perhaps it is less stimulating than young love, but the popular impression that we love .strongest when we love earliest is not found in truth oi analogy. No cue knows the whole lore of love, that does not know how to love with the reason, the imagination, and all the moral sentiments. It is the most into rior school that the soul can know. Men may know how to deal with numbers and solve problems; but that is the rarest, the innermost, the deepest knowledge that comes with loving by all the parts and facul ties of tho soul. i hey only ca !•>< greatly or fruitfully who are good, since the line, the direction is from the flesh toward the spirit. It is from the low toward the high. It is trout tho substantial toward the invisible. And none can truly lovo except those whose life is the unfolding of their wholenatureon the plan of Christianity. How pitiful it is to see ttieu build too low ! I cannot bear to see the young gath ering together and building their nests as the birds do. On my lawn 1 see tha lark's and other birds building in the grass aud know that before tbe young are fledged the remorseless mower, with revolving strokes, will sweep the ground, and tho nests will be utterly destroyed, and the young cut and wasted. And do 1 not s£e men building their nests just so? Do 1 not see love be ginning to nestle in the flowers? But the flowers themselves arc rooted in the dirt down low. close to the foot that easily shall crush them. ' I mourn when I see a mother loving her shlldrriT, far tiuin firv tiriu; uniy * t.TOUrn when 1 see two natures that should be eter nally affianced, loving each other within the horizons of time. There must be something higher than the circlingsof this world. No love is fit to he called by the name lovo that has not in it something of the other world, and much of immortality. It must have in it faith and hope. It must be a love that is served by the reason, by the imagination, by all that there is in the soul. THE GREAT OBSTACLE TO PRO GUESS A condition of ultimate progress, more essential than all others, yet little considered by men, is the suppression of moral and so cial evil. We can never get on while we arc discordant and selfish. Capital and la bor can never succeed at sword's points. The selfishness of rival interests inexorably bars improvements the most practicable and important. The corruption of politics par alyses government for the great public works that properly belong to it, and the richest commonwealth is glad to borrow from Shy loek corporations, on their own terms, the use of roads, bridges or supplementary streets which it needs and ought to own. Nor can we have them even thus; the mul titude of Shyloeks contending for the prey, and each determined that if he cannot suc ceed no other shall, is what prevents the construction alike of the Under Broadway and the Upper Broadway and the Back Broadway and the Tabular Ferries. And so it goes everywhere. The strength of union has never been tried. The strength of innocence and loyalty has hardly been thought of. And we may be as sure as we are that there is a good Providence over us, that the power of man will never be suffered too greatly to exceed his fitness for the trust of power. Even without overru ling, the natural workings of_ depravity set lifnits to the advancement of its own resour ces. If real uuiou were possible for selfish ness and sin, the power of man might attain thereby would surpass the wildest dreams of imagination ; hut it would be a formida ble power, and most formidable to itself. The power of a regenerated and united hu manity for good, when it comes, will be lim itable only Dy the capacity of its sphere.— Scientific American. A Bio OFFER. — l The Dubuque Femes says that while in that city, John B. Gough re ceived alcttei from an English gentleman, who offered him two hundred and fifty pounds ($1,200) in gold per night for one year's service in London —hut one lecture to be given in a week, and the aeries to be confined entirely to the metropolis. Be sides the money offer, the correspondent ten ders Mr. Gough a well furnished house in the most respectable portion of the city, free of rent, for the year. Sixty two thou sand four huudred dollars a year for one night's work in each week! Mr. Gough said ho should have to consider this propo sition. A LADY'S ADVICE TO YOUNti MEN. A lady who signs herself 'A Martyr to Late Hours,' offers the following sensible suggestions to young men: Pear gentlemen, between the ages of 18 and 45, listen to a few words of gratuitous remarks. When you make a social call of an evening, on i young lady, go away at a reasonable hour. Say you come at eight o'clock, an hour and a half is certainly as long as the most fascinating of you in con versation can. or rather ought to desire to use his charms. Two hours, indeed, can be pleasantly spent with music, or other games to lend variety; but, kind sirs, by no means stay longer. Make shorter calls and come oftaner. A girl—that is, a sensible, true hearted girl—will enjoy it better, and really value your acquaintance more. Just con ceive the agony of a girl who, well knowing the feeling of father and mother upon the subject, hears the clock strike ten, and yet must sit on the edge of her chair, in mortal terror lest her papa should put his oft re peated threat into execution, that of inviting the gentleman to breakfast. And we girls understand it all by experience, and know what it is to dread the prognostic of dis pleasure. In such cases a sigh of relief generally accompanies the closing door be hind the gallant, and one don't get over the feeling of trouble till safe in the arms of Morpheus. Even then the dreams are sometimes troubled with some phantom of an angry father, and distressed (for both parties) mother, and a Young man w : ll make a longer call than he ought to. Now. young gentlemen friends, I'll tell you what we girls will do. For an hour and a half we will be most irresistibly charming and faseinatiug. Then beware; monosyabte responses will be all you need expect; and if. when the limits shall have passed, the startling queiy shall be heard coming down stairs: Lsn't it time to close up?' you must consider it a righteous punishment, and taking your hat, depart, a sadder, and it is to bo hoped, a wiser man. Po not get angry, but the next time you come, be careful to keep within just bounds. We want to rise early these pleasant morn ings and improve the shining hours, but when forced to be up at such unreasonable hours at night, exhausted nature will speak, aud as a natural consequence, with the ut most speed in dressing, we can barely get down to breakfast in time to escape a repri mand from papa, who don't believe in beaux as though lie never was young, and a mild, reproving glance from mamma, who understands a little better poor daughter s feelings, but must still disapprove outwardly to keep up appearances. And now, young men, think about these things, and don't for pity's sake throw down your paper with a 'pshaw' —but remember the safe side of 10. THIERS. To day the reigning favorite iu France is M. Thiers. No photograph is so much in demand as his. Judged, therefore, _ by this excellent standard, no person in Paris i- ex citing so much interest and attention. He is r.earlv seventy years old, but is yet vigor ous and animate!, like the trees in his na tive Province, that ar never touched bv the frosts of i.ucr. ' Small and upright, Kic head squarely set on .-quart- shoulders, if it were not for the bmi, r/eoix blood in his veins he would have the air of the eagle nt theJardin des Planter. From behind his spectacles sparkle two .-mall piereing eves, endowed with a stirpri-he iutcusitr. The aspect of the man i- extremely simple; there is nothing studied in hi-attitude or man ners, no pose or habitual gestures. iut whether standing on his own hearth, or seated on the fan/evil of the Academy, or mounted in the senatorial tribune, as soon as he speaks ever} one i.- ,-ilcnt around hint. His voice is slend' r like hi- body, and -brill but persistent and vigorous a- his small wiry frame. At the lie- inning of hi - discourse the tone is a little cracked, it is feeble, as if one heard but the buzzing of flies' wings; but as the listening silence glows more profound the feeble voice increases iu depth and vol- : uiuc, and attains finally a compass and pow cntire house. , Thiers is defined by those who 1 eel his fascination, but reject his arguments, as pre-eminently a talker—a talker in literature, in history, in politics. He is so evidently capable of making the worse appear the bet ter reason, if he chose so to do, that his eloquence inspires a certain distrust, pre cisely because it i- >o pursuasive. I hat Italian unity was a glorious achievement, and that the Emperor atoned tor many sins by the assistance that lie brought to its ac complishment was a proposition regarded as almost axiomatic, till M. Thiers announces that the Italians are made for confederation and that their liberty itself is compromised by their nationality. That Napoleon acted with laudable foresight iu the German war, was an idea willingly entertained by many, who, though prepared to consider the Em peror a knave, hesitate to brand him with the greater ignominy of a fool. Yet even this stronghold of complacency is shaken when M. Thiers declares tnat the crafty Emperor has been the complete toot of Bis marck, and that his entire policy in relation to Prussia a- well as Italy has been weak, shortsighted, imbecile; and that if France has not beeu checkmated by hie ftdminwtw tion of affairs, her escape so far is only ow ing to the moderation of the terrible l'riuie Minister. These nnterioi beliefsare shaken by the piercing voice of M. Thiers, but they are not of course completely overthrown. MUTATIONS OF FORTUNE. —A correspon dent of the Cincinnati Commercial, writing from Indianapolis, says: . "While passing through the Union de pot, a few days ago, I was accosted by a one armed man. in faded army blue, llis apparent familiarity urpii-ed me at first, but 1 soon recognized him as an old ac quaintance. I first saw bin; fourteen years ago. working at a windlass in the gold dig ging! of Australia. He and his three part ners hoisted by that windless, from one shaft, more than SsOO,KiO. A few months latter I bade him good by, as he sailed from Melbourne for New York, with $200,000 in bills ofexchangs in his pocket. I next saw him a wounded Rebel Soldier. lying on the battlefield of Antietam. A little more ilian a year latter, I saw him a- a Union soldier, j lying in a hospital in Tennessee: To day he ! is a helpless wanderer, dependent on charity ! for a dinner. BEAUTY OF OU> PROM.K.— Men and wo men make theirown beauty or their own ug liness Lord Lj'tton speak.- of a man "who was uglier than he had an . business to be,' and, if he could but read it. every human being carries his life in his face, and is good looking, or the reverse, as that life has been good or evil. On our foiturii> the fine cnis el of thought and emotion is eternally ati work. Beauty is not the monopoly of j blooming young men and oi white anu ptnk maids. There is a slow-growing beauty, which ouly comes to perfectiou in old age. Grace belongs to no period of life, and good ness improve# the longer it exists. ' VOLUME 40; >O. 18 A CHAIt.MINt; PICTURE BV A WEH KNOWN ARTIST. I have speculated a deal on matrimony. I have seen young and beautiful women, the pride of gay circles, married as the world says, well. Some have moved into their cosily houses, and their friends have all come and looked at their furniture and their splendid home for happiness, and have gone away and committed them to their sunny hopes cheerfully and without fear. It is natural to be sanguine for them, as the young are carried away with similar feel inga. I lovo to get unobserved, in a corner and watch the bride in her white attire, and with her smiling face and soft eyes meeting me in the pride of life, weave a waking dream of future happiness, and persuade myself it will be true. I think how they will sit upon the luxu rious sofa as the twilight falls, and build gav hopes and murmur in low tones the not now forbidden tenderness: and how thrill ing!}' the allowed kiss and beautiful endear ments of the wedded life will make their parting joyous, and bow gladly they will come back from the crowded and empty mirth of the day to each other's quiet com pany. I picture to myself that young crea ture who blushes even now at his hesitating caress, listening eagerly for his footstep as the night steals on. wishing he would come, and when he enters at lastj with an affection as undying as his pulse, folds her to his bo som, 1 can feel the tide that goes flowing through the heart, and gaze with him on the graceful form as she moves about for the kind offices of affection, soothing all his un quiet cares, and making him forget even himself in her young and unshadowed beauty. I go forward for years and see her luxuri ant hair put soberly away from her brow, and her girlish graces resigned into dignity, and loveliness chastened with the gentle meek ness and maternal affection. Her husband looks on with a proud eye, and shows the satne fervent love and delicate attentions which first won her; and her fair children have grown about them, and they go on, lull oi'houor and untroubled years, and are remembered when they die.— lrving. EARNEST HOYS MAKE EARNEST MEN. It is the destiny of men and boys, women and girls, to labor. If we would have any thine ,n this world, or become useful in any way, or eminent for any thing desirable, or worthy of praise and admiration, we must strive for it. If the boy or girl would be wise in any thing, wisdom is to be gained only by making the effort. The most dis tinguished persons of our age have risen to their present positions by bard study and unremitting perseverance. Even our most eminent ministers have disputed the way to their present positions of influence, honor, and usefulness, by incessant toil. Their progress has been made inch by inch. A man is not born with wisdom. Whatever he knows must be acquired by patient ob servation and by bard study. It is the height of folly to think of knowing anything, or of being anything more than '"a hewer of wood or a drawer of water," without such cffoit. Close application and rigid discip line are essential for satisfactory success in any employment. If a boy or man would he a scholar, he must study. If he would be a skillful mechanic, he mu<-t apply him self. No boy or man has ever attained to eminence and distinction, without toilsome and laborious pains-taking. Earnest dis cipline and culture make the man. For a want of them, promising boys grow up into men who are easy and worthless kind of nobodies. Lea ft v Ai.r. vot can.—Never omit any opportunity to learn all you can. Sir Wai ter Scott said even in a stage-coach, he nl wa; - found somebody who could tell him omething that he did not know before. Conversation is frequently more useful than books for purposes of knowledge. It is therefore, a mistake to be morose and silent among persons whom you think to be igno es* ha, 'Mil? flPosmAvyriH you something, no matter how ordinary their employment. Indeed, some of the most, sagacious re marks are made by persons of this descrip tion. respecting their particular pursuits. Hugh Miller, the Scotch geologist owes not a little of his fame to observations made when he was a journeyman stone mason nud working in a quarry. Socrates well said, that there was but one good, which is knowl edge. and one evil which is ignorance. Every grain of sand goes to make the heap. A cold digger takes the' smallest nuggets, and is not fool enough to throw them away because he hopes to find a huge lump some time. So iu acquiring knowledge, we should nev er despise an opportunity, however unprom ising. If there is a moment's leisure spend it over good or instructive talking with the first you meet. A NOVEL INVENTION. —The Chemical News states that M. Pclon has invented a new heating apparatus adapted to the war ming of railway carriages, and called a "heat generator." It consists of a caneiof wood, whih is covered with hemp, and which is made to revolve with great speed within a hollow cone or copper. These are enclosed in a metallic vessel, through which air is passed, and becoming heated in the passage is then conveyed to the carriage. The in ventor proposes to place a generator outside each carriage: motion will be given to the wooden cone by one ot the axles of the car riage; and the heated air will be admitted to the vehicle by an arrangement under the control of the passengers. The "heat gen era'or" is, indeed, in actual use at Paris, and seems to be really efficacious. The machine is turned by a force equal only to about the twentieth of a horse power, but, after rotating for about eight or ten minutes, the air escaping from the appara tus was found to have attained a tempera ture of 70 deg. C. ONE'S MOTHER. —Around the idea of ! one's mother the mind of a tnan clings with ; fond affection. It is the first dear thought 1 stamped upon our infant hearts, when yet j soft and capable of receiving the most pro i found impressions, and all after feelings are j more or less light in comparison. Our ' wild, headstrong, and angrv at her counsels or opposition; but. when death has stilled her monitory voice and nothincr. but calm memory remains to recapitulate her virtues and cood deeds, affection, liko a flower beaten to the ground by a rude storm, raises up her head and smiles amidst our tears. Around that idea, wo have said, the I mind clings with fond affection; and even when the earlier period of our loss forces j memory to be silent, fancy takes the place of ■ remembrance, and twines the image of onr departed parent with a garland of grr. <. and beauties, and virtues, which wo doubt not that she possessed. RATES OF ADVERTISING. All advertisements for less than 3 months 1- ccntu per line for ear-h insertion. .Special notice ft onehalf additional. All reriluti'jns of lttoctas tion, communications of a limited or individual interetn and notices of marriages and dc&tfcl, ex ceeding five lines, 10 cts. per line. All legal nti cea of every kind, and all Orphans' Court and other Judicial sales, are rixfuirod hy law to he puh. lished in both papers. Editorial JSotices 13 cent, per line. All Advertising due inse/tjon,' One $ t.oo $ 6.00 SIO.OO Two squares 6.00 9.00 16.00 Three squres 8.00 12.00 20.00 One-fonrih column 13.00 20.00 35.00 Half column 18.00 25.00 45.00 One column 30.00 45.00 80.00 TUB FAMILY THAT DOS'T TAKE NEWSPAPERS. The ntau that don't take newspapers was in town the other day. He brought his family in an ox wagon. He still believed that Millard Filmorc was President, and wanted to know if the "Karuschatkians" had taken Cuba, and if so, where they had tnken-it. He had sold his pork for six cents when he might have gotten. One of his boys went to a blacksmith shop to be meas ured lor a pair of shoes, and another mistook the market house for a church. He hung his hat on a meat hook and patiently waited one hour for "meeting" to begin. One of the girls took a lot of seed onion.' to the post office to trade off for a letter. She had a baby which she carried in a "sugar uough" stooping occasionally to rock it on the side walk; when it cried she filled it" mouth with a cotton handerchief, and sang "Barbara Allen.'' The oldest boy had sold two "coon skins" and was on a bust, When last seen he had called for ' sody and water," and stood soaking gingerbread in it, and making wry laces. The shop keeper, mistaking his meaning had given him a mixture of sa! soda and water, and it tasted strongly of soap. But he d 'hearn tell of ody water, and was bound to give it a fair trial, puke or no puke.' _ The old man had a tea kettle he wanted "fixed up," and he carried it to the milliner shop. The clerk thought the man was crazy, but noticing the hole in the kettle, politely told him that Dreylus & Woracek could mend it for him. He then ♦ook an old plow to the jeweler's to have it "pinted and sharpened," We told the fel low he ought to read the papers, but he would not listen to it. He was opposed to "internal improvements," and ho thought "larnin was a wicked invention.—xE channe. MANNERS AND MORALS. Mauners easily and rapidly mature into morals. As childhood advances to man hood, the transition from had manners to bad morals is almost iuipreceptiblc. Vul gar and obscene forms of speech keep vulgar and obscenc_ objects before the mind, engen der impure images in the imagination, and make unlawful desire prurient. Froui the prevalent state of the mind, actions proceed, as water raises from a fountain. Hence what was originally only a word or a phrase, becomes a thought, is meretriciously em bellished by the imagination is inflamed in to a vicious desire, gains strength and bold ness by being always made welcome, until at last, under some urgent temptation, it dares, for once, to put on the visible form of action: it is then ventured upon again and again, more frequently and less warily, un til repetition forges the chains of habit; and then language, imagination, desire, and habit bind their victim in the prison house of sin. In this way profane language wears away the reverence for things sacred and holy: and a child who has been allowed to follow, and mock, and hoot at an intemper ate man in the streets, is far more likely to become intemperate himself than if he had been accustomed to regard him with pity, as a fallen brother, and with sacred abhorrence, as one self-brutifiod or demonized. So. on the other hand, purity and cbasteness of language tend to preserve purity and ehaste ness of thought and of taste: they rcpol licentious imaginings: they delight in the unsullied and the untainted, and all their tendencies and aptitudes are on the side of virtue.— Horace Mann. THE following story is told of a Yankee captain and his mate : Whenever there was a plum pudding made, by the captain's or ders, all the plums were put into one end of it, and that placed next to the captain, who, after helping himself, passed it to the mate, who never found any plums in his part of if. Well, after this game had been played for some time, the mate prevailed ou the stew ard to place the end which had no plunis in it next to the captain. The captain no soonci saw the pudding than he discovered he had the wrong end of it. Picking up the dish, and turning it in his hands, as if merely for examining the china, he said, ''this dish with the plum end next to himself. "Is it possible?" said the mate, taking up the dish; "I shouldn't suppose it was worth more than a shillintr," and, as if in perfect innocence, he put down the dish with the plumb end next to himself. The captain looked at the mate, the mate looked at the captain. The captain laughed, the mate laughed, "you've found nit out, so we'll just cut the pudding lengthwise this time, and have the plums fairly distributed here after. '' FIND fault, if you must find fault, in pri vate, if possible, and some time after the of fence, rather than at the time. The blam ed are less inclined to resist when ihey arc blamed without witness. Both are calmer, and the accused person may be struck with the forbearance of the accuser, who has seen the fault and watched for a privite and proper time for mentioning it. Never be harsh or unjust with your children or ser vants. Firmness, with gentleness of dc meanor, and regard to the feelings consti tutes that authority which is always respec ted and valued. If you have any cause to complain of a servant, never speak hastily: wait, at all events, until you have had time to reflect on the nature of the offence, and then vou will see its extent. ALWAYS TELL THE TRUTH. —The ground work of all manly character is veracity, or the habit of truthfulness. That virtue lies at the foundation of everything said. How common it is to hear parent? say, "I have faith in my child so long as if speaks the truth. lie may have faults hut 1 know he will not deceive. I build on that confidence.' They are right. It is lawful and just and lawful ground to build upon. So long as the truth remains in a child, there is something to depend on; hut when truth is gone, all is lost, unless the child is speedily won back again to veracity. Children did you ever tell a lie ? If so. you are in imi nent danger. Return at once, little reader, and enter the strong-hold of truth, and from it may you never depart. NEARLY all sorrow while it lasts, depres ses action, destroys boj>e, crushes energy; but it renders sensitiveness more acute, and sympathies more genial, and 'he whole character less selfish and more sional seasons of brought, the best fands would soon degenerate; but these seasons cause the land to suck up from the currents beneath, with the moisture, all those min eral manures, that restore and fertilize the soil above. It is thu- with sickness and sorrow; rnce surmounted, they fertilize the character and devclope from the deep foun tains of the human heart a joy and fruitiul | uess not otherwise attainable. • When a man receives a periodical or news- I paper weekly, and takes great delight rea II ding it, and don't pay for it. I wonder if he 1 has a soul or gizzard