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*<s->-<ivd only
two or three years since, and displays many
beautiful specimens of art, though hut few
of them are unmutilated. The lowest row
of scats consisted of white marble arm chairs
cut out in pairs, with the name of the aris
tocratic proprietor cut upon each. They
seem to have been the'privatc boxes of the
theater.
It was with a thrill of emotion that after
reading anew the XVII chapter of the Acts
of the Apostles, I ascended the stone steps
cut in the rocks of Mars Hill, and stood
where Paul stood when he uttered his un
answerable argument, and made his bold
and sublime protest against idolatry, in full
view of the Parthenon, the Erccthenon, the
Temple of Victory, the Temple of Theseus,
the Temple of Jupiter, Olympus, and the
other magnificent erections of 1 • i. ' n super
stition. No one can understand the gtan
duer and power of that discourse till he
stands where it was delivered. The Temple
of Jupiter presents only fifteen erect col
umns of what once was a cokmade, on its
rour sides, or one Hundred and twenty-tour
rich Corinthian pillars. The Temple of
Theseus is the most ancient and complete of
the structures which remain, much resem
bling the Parthenon in general effect, though
standing on comparatively low ground. The
interior is used as a museum of ancient
Grecian art, and contains many most admi
rable specimens, principally taken from
tombs. And this reminds me, that the
outer (Jeramicus, or burial ground, which
has been covered with twelve or fifteen feet
of rubbish, haslately been partially explored
and has yielded several valuable sculptures,
which will lead to further search. An anti
quarian society exists here under the pat
ronage of the government, which conducts
these excavations as the limited funds will
allow.
IIEKBCHEL THE ASTRONOMER.
The life of Sir William Hersehel affords a
remarkable iilustration of the force of per
severance. Ilis father was a poor German
musician, who brought up his four sons to
the same calling. William came oyer to
i England t 1 > 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