II SLOA RT C ' editor. VOLUME 21. . frit Ohmutr, S F. SIOAN, CORN SQU ER ARES I ATE S E. T. AND PUBLIC I, , ERI- '1'1:11 11S 01"1' Br. P 4 I,VI:R. g),,.111-4ri, i'f.,t l 111 , cdrovl , ; at 52,911 • In nrid.,l al the 00.1 , e, in r.tvftit,,s. 1.50 ! , II 1) , 1 i.... 1 th ail% ance, or xx With three months fronithe tune (..• ....',,..rd.m..•• 'no dollars n ill It charged. • . L' All cOluitlilli Ira' elle+ mush he 100:4 paid. b c RATES OF ADVEIt'FISING. Clot. , not exceeding I line:, one year. 'l.. 83,00 01,,,mare .. .• 10,110 ~.,i: .1•1. •Ix mond , . 6,00 d., 0,0 ' three ne,thll4, 3,00 .r n , „,,,,, t,, atls ert, ittelit, 511 f ell!. perscutare, of fifteen lint , Or 1,...,1, 11. hr-1 ne.Jtion: 0.5 Cent: , for edcli s..ilps,finent itiNertioli. 3_, 1„rly itti etti-ei+ haN e the 'iris liege , or r 10111uillt! at I.loa-mire. 111 al 110 l‘ti Le are allOsVed to occito more than two Hoare..., and to i t b,frif to the tr I ntratfloote Z u .,,,,,, 41, ..ru.t .„„.„,,,,t h a y ing other directions, to ill be Inserted till' (Mil and ChM' geit accurdmgiy. 2 j -'. . 1 • P' ..] . .a ' (- L ): ' - 2) I D SREED'COB.Y, r -- - (; ALEN 11. 11.:ENE,. , r,.0,,,na'.4 , 3 Tailor, Iwiween the Reed 110110.0 and Brown's Hotel, , ) , I ~ nn., 011111 Ni; dune on „host notiee. 116 ( )1,1 VER :•••;i'AFFOItD, 1,, . ~;1.1 and .1 homer. and :11antifactiirer of Blank Books and it hi ~, Ink. Corner Of the Did nplitt and :•. , ixtli -vol. _ • ill. nor . , ,• 0 ( . .0! , -I” 11( It .01 1.,),—(211 . 1Ce WI Slate Street, thre • —I , i. ,rili iif Innis% in'. Ilidi I, '.)•iii, l'a. C( ))11 " 1()N & 1:1 V i:)1 - 4iCK, 140 ir. ,, in I'r Cu , .l', 11.11,1,:nrej( • norl 'r,, Grccericii, and 1 ' np 1 Pim ...tie Liritit.r, 1)1111. , .. :111 1 1 latitif.irilirerr r . di , oil-. :so. i - , Inecil Moore, rind cornier of ( * Raid' and 1' :Inn r:, I tiry 1%1 IL NICKLIN. s i . E , r.r yr 1 =rncral awl (.01:11111-4iOnIni.ive,,‘, 1:1_F1 ILLja frl n in En,2ll 6 ll,lff•tfoan aunt .line ri,of Ihrdwarorti.l('llll ‘1... Nall., Ann Viee.., Iron an.l L 4 ti4:l N0.:114,4 11.1/ En, • - J. V. 1.11)11l.1: ..V. y;.s4 Carr, Wa.z.tni Itudder Suite Fireet, turet, 1,111, I.(1.•. . . • " L. S 1110N(i. M. 1). 4,1111,,f Poor tt v•I, 01 C, (CroZfIL.- Off I)oC.'i`..L L. STMS'All.fl' A. 11,1 4,1 , Iwo( San, I'r..t4rect. .11 1.41.11 - c. SIEGEL, 1,1 11.1a,1 aler i.l 11-1 ,of-, 111111. Collo, Of l'renCll.lllff I . lllli Sir • floff I,f rt , • JOll N \ . L% j!,•voi I); 11r in ,ro • 11; , 1111.;.$.1t16.2k• Ito 11101 , 1 priC..l , llti (UT '9.11710 Pro.lori., ,t; ttt.t...11.1)1N( llrt - o ; NTT on. ro •1 Iht ;t •Maker.—S.pre. No. 511 , .N..41":. It , ... Ow ttncll III,ck) Note ,truk, Erie. • .1. \V. \\ * EI . ..NU/RE, A7'7'(l I: I: 1" A7' .1 It' - - I Sel ( . 11111 : • I reel, iII:NItY t'AIiNVEI.I., lv,, I'll I%l4llt.Dvalrr in Dry 11,60.1 , , Crocr Don, So . pl, N.r. lopir.• • are, tear Va. -,li Pow, Axle nnrl ii re k•-‘,llliirut t/I Tr 11.. ..low , M 4-10 ~ ! 111• x.rc ki awl Pool,. of the I Tv'. It. ‘V. li.N.NO;W.I.TD I N SUN. pr. l ,- Pt 0: 0 ;, 1 1, 1 ! 1;11.•v-, riatm I. t . 0 f. 111,11 ..Iml a larit•lS .11r(11, Irl 1U:116111gs, 11's, I:510, Pa. (11:( 1 11(IE 11. CrTLE.II. , CirdrA. Erii• Comm, l'a. :w. , tlA. A tun rib pr0t.11 5 111 ,4 arid NVI I,:-:()N .11 - 1 ,, •P. tl ,1, —Oll,O pr B. %N.. ,i:t •OP d i r < t ourt II( 1:-/.. 1.1 0.1 ohcr itruft•-•1;11,111mi-nit •,,ittelti:col 10,A\ iltui air/ - iIIt ( )IN,.N °,‘. 1101 " r;i„ -- 1 . 4,n ,, r1.1 VIII(' I ' V.ll, , (1.-r ni Slaw ,Ireet :111 , i 1111! rillaie En , . 1: i-lt . rn NV,t.aal at .I S.attlaat ,ta , 24 . (Ala , . , . B. r. CRAIN. Ivg, 1 ,IF in,: E/•1:111 41 ..tl , r la Gr0 , 0 , . 4 •`•• I . r. , vn - inl , '• 1.1,,'F ir... Nails, Ilvarvii. Ale, Dui-cult, Cracl:er,, I. . .; -;.1.•,1 , 1 0 . l'a. T. w. C:rnet.rje4, Not NODS, lAtqllol'4.( . .llldiC-1 S. 12,5, tti.lt. Etlv. \‘, nicety Sp:Pliditrf •En I. (fe , , N. 1. I'.,ll.l.;iturttp, commerri it It [II rocel,r• prod pi r. In ar Ilk NJ %MI rtt.r, lei jOSIAII KELLOG(;. fort intiu2 Sr_ C01111111:•1011 )1. ;chant, oil the Public, Doe Slat' .treo. )It, I'l,wr nild 1',.11, conitantly ••a!e • - • J. H. NVII.I.IA)IS, l'on.krr nn•l Etc 11,1“. r. Dealer in ltilk of r. Wan.. c_ertiticat , •••ot 1101.•)-sie, Cold and sil‘er coin. • rtloor‘. I:ron 11 . N I Erie, . iw.NJAMIN F.I)I:NNISoN, AYrn\ FN` ‘lr I nIV. ,land. ()lijo—thific, on, SnporlO, bl Am ater'•• Block. 11,1 r 1'111.•1 Jn•otre• 81,11 0-her. 111: 4 1.11 , -4., 110.10' ;4-,00,,.1 II Pork tn., I W :W.•lnut No.! 1V:2 1 1;4) , T% Set, York. For te-timut I,r 10111, 011.1,,`. INCLN 1, ArrnrNrs , AT 1 kW—A Illtre tap Tammany ?tall nosh of Inc Pruthunutary'). office, Enc. Mil MCItItAY WHALLON, Art , 'l • •• TV AND COCNI, n on Ar I.sw—ntlice over C. it. ;:tr4nce. (PI!, dOOT w 44 pl titltel.treet, On the I I k.nr. L ROSENrI:IG & Co. iVnni AND It El Alf. D. ALE in rOllll4l-41nd nnni• G on,l, ready made Clothing, Uob. , and shues, &c., No ing nine k, r‘int, Erin. I C. M. TIBBALS. ,n D r y C o ol., Dry Groceries. !'rockery, (lard No. 11 I, Cht:ap•tole, Erie. JOHN - .IMMERLY, ham re thGrocertes and Provi,ons of all ktnds, State reet, three d.>.r. a Jr') t of the Diamond, Erie. SNIITII JACKSON, nr.f.fit in nq• G 00.1., Groceries{ Hardware, Queens'. Iron, Nnilß.4e., Clienpside, Erte. l'a. WILLIAM ItIBLET+ kttrn roldster, and Undertaker, corner •f State and l:1;iN K L.Lnkr 1.0, • 4simx Fumarding,Pro,icc and, COMM i .011 NTereltrtnia; deniers in cove nod line salt, Coal, Platter, tlhmglee, &c. Public dock, sv , .t .I , le of the tind^e, Erie I. Kki•ri, WALKER & K, Alweßyt-tr. Foruardinr. Couuni.v_ion and Produce 31crellants;Fec uun Ware-liouge east of tiic Public Bridge, F:rie. 1 G. LOOMIS & Co. PEUSRP in Watrllev,leweirv, silver. German Silver. Plated and ' 11 "°"" la Wale M lllinry and Palley Goods, Statestreet, me:loy oppcwite the Engle lintel, Erie, ,471, LooMI. .CAILTEIL & ♦Srtor.raAl.r. rand Retail denier; in, Ilrugp.llledielnes, rainto, 011 s, Dye-stuffs, 9ass, &e.: No. 0, Reed House, Eriei - JOEL JOIANSON, ItzAt.an in Theological, Mit•cellaneo.n , , Sunday and Classical School Rooks, Stationary, &c. l'nrk Row, Erie. JANIE'S LYTLE, FAIMION %nut Nterelinnt ea the public sgette, a few doors wpm of State street. Eris. D. S. CLARK, WITOTS.W.B ixn RETAIL healer in Grocerie, Provisionß, Ship chandlery. Sionc-ware. 4e. ficc.. No. 5, normal Block. Erie. 0. SPAKrORD Realer in Law, Medical, EClll)olllitscellaneotis Books stationary Ink. he. etrite at., (our doors below the Public square. ,c DR. O. L. ELLIOTT. . I t"ideal Dentist; 011iee and dwelling in the Beebe Block, on the Emit side o! theTuldie Sintrite. Erie. Teeth inverted on Gold -nate, Item one to an entire nett. Carious teeth tilled with pure and reStOred to health and toefulneem. Teeth cleaned with instruments and Dentiliee f 0 as to leave them of a pellucid . 'clearness. All work warranted. 6. K - ERSON, rtirticur •ati Pranron—ollice at his residence on Seventh street, owniite the Methodist Church. Erie. C. 13. WRIGHT. • WttALP.SALZ sin RersiLdealer in Dry Goods, Groceries, Hardware Croekery. {:lase-ware, Leattper, Ono, Sce., corner of State street a n d the public equar, opicwite the Er.ide hotel ,Erie. • - JOHN„. H. BURTON. svullLNNAt.] AND RETAiI. dealer in Drugs, Medicines:Dye Stuffs, Groceries: &e. No. 5, Reed Houve, Erie. iiiSBatI3.IIUNTER. T' '.'R in Hats, Caps awl Furs of all descriptloue. NO. 10. park Row .Erie. Pa. B uiT rat VVANIIII).-500 firkins good Dairy Butter vranud la exelintige fur cash or Goode. J. 11. FULIi'RTON... • • 2 0 rt,,,,pm,11 LEAF II ATs at trlinlesale; also, a large as sortateet of Leghorn andlranaina bate..jut reeelved by lugs I J. 11. FULLERTON. , _ .1 ; ,... 7 ii i . • t . II g.... r,4 „... .Z.l4' 6'l ' , :-.il ~...,: 1- - ' _.k: :e. . :-.u. 1 „... ,m, p i?::. • r ~A 7 :,,.•b-a,;H , Yg ~4:,. .i. ,- 7 ~, ...y : ; , t ! ;.',, • • •'. -,- ,A,.• ..,- • • - , , . i . :1" : : 7 . • .r, :-. v. ~ Fy $ tO . • , . ‘ ---7 1 . IR ' . 1. 1 .. 14 1:: ' N % .i.. i 1. 1 . „...,,, :4, ..-.., • ,„... .4. .:1 v:_, ,i „:. ...„ _, .... . _2 t_,. ; , =...„. f, ~.., . .4v . ;,. - __.,..„ i.... ...!;„, . 1 .- .. :, ...1 ~.: ~, .....„ , : ..::. ._ „.,... 1-:; Aii .: , „.. -z . _. -,-,, .... :.. . ?.,,-,.: „ 1 . 5 . : ..6 ..%. .. 1. : . - 1 1 :, . :,..„. ..) f. :1•:,, - 7:1 .. .! 4 0: 4 - t”, 1 1 _ A ..... ~_ _ . ME I= ME DIZIE NEE onion ca=t of lclilllcr, k., &c. stror 1. 1111. ridge is lion . Lard It. I 10, re- .nifiling. rittltt's tie Dry 1, Flew- •arc, &c., MEM W. W. LOomis T. M. AVSTIN , portni tIIIh 311ii,-lattontj. !'or lhr Eric o!"...etvvr THE TELEGRAPH OPERATOR • . ON DY I.A( tt. Ile•itle hie itt•trnment he'stantl., Throughout the live-lung day. And talk.' ss ith tho , e of other land+, Full many a league navay,— Talks to them n. a brother talks Unto a brother near, _. (Ir oilier dap., :tad 0(.41 tticlk;, were' tot dear. j Kith tho4e is ho Alt! little , reck• that mys ic man For th.trince or for time, The lightning'. ss in; can t ttilsly span The intervening clime, And bear hi• ine.,agt , to the place Ile wt•lies It to go I.ightettotg n tilt stinks the n i•tful fire, Or cmting t+hatles of no. Alta Illllerare.he for the :It Ott, Though triad, g , ) moaning hy— Thcogh st - itd and moon arty hide their light Itelttit u l a Aorm-clung y,— t heed those:•olentit Cauted by a far•olf Anon ttriunt tle• answering lap•, Theslll rtgaittjs A fe'aritil man is he trim sttAirti Thum:ilium tfw lice-tone d:q•,- And t:qs ‘‘'itli those of otli.:1" 1,111.14, riot mall) a leagaa awa); many a IsttowleAge hidden, dark, IVitlim lips -ecro. brea,t, A- cltain , ,l a pri , 'llvr,llll lire's spark Shall flicker out In 1-1,4• Ohl unity a strong non', heart In.lli bled, . til'rt Lin that f.ctifol room, • As it 1001 l felt, n !nisi he hmh read - The ilnport ui it, And 111 In) Li w ml.:10, the bath t‘ (pt, jo . t's sorrow', tear+, An lo (ati lirt , fl The 6111,z , ul long • The wan ti.g lre ndl ^.llg a 'OD - 27` 111:1,% ;I•id In .m111;11 - tVIII,i4 WWI Jeep aiiil bolkmv moan; The voice scent+ like a semi. Jul.', So dirt: - u-oiiiiil, Perchail:i. it I.- 111 III'; Soll/ by. 11.1 . 4 . 111 it 41 S1 Rothe 1- s itlortal—tltat'Str.lll,;e. 111:11), Au I he timstikt•s array; Tli I ottlost Ilrr, ti hot a :pais, So oldi.renj .Soon tt ill he . .trli(etn. , .;ll , l3l stroke, • 111, , tirlai Theo wilt It, -001 Ireed tints IN 3 uke CM.) hr shy. a•crTid.' . II wt snAT Pa. Jilt 1 1 .1. 1-50. TUE hUNAWAY iIIATCII =I "Caroline, 1 wo,lt on would remain a moment." avid :NW Warren, as Ills daughter was about to leave the pat.- "Wall, papa, what is it?" She strove to look uncon,cious, but her varying color and the nervous lIWV 01110 nt of her lips, betrayed the se- cret agitation; in Net, blio :At:peeled thu purposes of her parent.. thought," said Mr. Warren, "that when l forbade young,.Coilins my house, you were prepared to tdrbmit to the prudence of my decision. We talked the matter over, Caroline, if you remember, and I woe at conhitl( r- able pains to convince you that ho was idle. wasteful, and I feared, ifi, , ipated—in short a very unfit person foratiy woman to trust her harplllC.s3 With. You silently ngreed to what I snid—at least on said nothing in reply. fancied I hod perenaded you, for I, thought ...our own good sense, to which I appended, %%mild see tho matter in a light'ainular to that in which your mother and my- sell beheld it. Judge (lieu of tut' inevpressible pain when 1 saw you walking arm-in-arm With him in the out-skirts of the city, to-day." Ha paused, and Caroline Along down her head abash ed.' "I was not mistaken," sJici said, to hetself, "il was pa whom I saw." Mr. Warren waited for more than a minute for her reply, but as she continued silent, Iftkwent on. "Now, Caroline," Said lie, "1 wish you to look on me as what I am—the best.iriend you have in the world, and ono who has no motive, much less any wish to ad vise you wrong. It is a mistake of people, 'especially of those of her sex, lo suppose that parents wish to tyranize over them in the atftii• of marriage. .Relieve me, noth ing is generally further from a parent's thought. it is not unfreauent, indeed', that a father ditTers from a dough- ter as to the wisdom of lier uniting herself with a 'certain "suitor, ISM in such casts, (ho father is, nine times out of ton, rikht, and the child rong. The parent, from his knowledge of men—from what he hears in the street, and other sources, usually arrives at a juster - conclusion re specting a young man's character; than a daughter, who has little or no means of ascertaining the truth. In the case of this young Collins, I know him,to be extravagant, occasionally intemperate in his habits, and head over oars in debt. Resides this, ho has a violant temper. I bosoeclf you, Caroline, do not give way further to this infatuation of yours." As Mr. Watren spoke, ho approached his daughter - 1 and took her bend. She burst into tears, looked up in his faco, and said—"Oh, but, papa, I love him, and ho loves me ho says ho will throw himself away, if Ido not marry him. Surely, surely, if I can, I ought to reform him." Mr. Warren shook his head. "C/roline," ho said, severely, "this is sheer folly, miserable infatuation! No' woman ever reformed a man whose principles wore so loose as those of Collins, a wretch, Who in his own words will threw himself away if you do not marry him, Lis ton to my words, child, for you aro weaker than I tho't, and I must rule whero I would prefer to persuade; if you ever marry Collins, trout that hour this house is! closed against you." Tho tears of Caroline flowed faster. Mr. Warren, after a turn a two across the room, softened again, and addressed her in kinder tones -"My child," he said, "I speak thus for your own good; J know, if you marry Collins, that you will regret it; and 1 would by interdicting it, spare you much future „sor row. I will not urge you to unite with any man you do not fancy, however excellent I may think him to be.— This I promise you; and on your part, I shall expect you to give up this acquriintance, To-morrow I will look for your premise to this effect. Go now, end think of it; I am sure you will obey me." Ile stooped down a3id kissed her tenderly; and then Caroline. still weeping, rushed from the room. But was it to think, as her father desired, of her duty? Alone, in her chamber, she recalled, at alternate mo ments, the words of her parent, and tho insideous per suasions of her lover; and alas', the latter had most in. ileioncet with her. - - Caroline was n ot . exactly a weak girl. but she had fallen. into it bad set at school,' and from it many hurtful notions an child's duty to its patents, especially in a Case of sup posed affection. She hall read, not good novels. but vi sionary romances; and these had strengthened her mista ken ideas. Her present suitor was a handsome, design ing libertine, who;knowing her father to be rich. desired SATURDAV to possess the daughter's hand; ns )•ith it went a large finished fortune. The manners of Collins had easily won her liking—for we cannot call it lave—and, imagi ning herself to bo in a similar position tuber favorite lio roines. she regarded the opposition of her father as op pressive and unreasonable._ That very day her suitor had urged her to elopo tvith him. and she had consented to do so. But her parents' kind expostulations had now fur a time shook her pur pose. Finally, however, the vanity of being the herono of a runaway match. as well as her biased views respec ting tho supposed injusthre of her father, induced her to fulfil her promise; and at the doad of night sho loft her home forevor:t We soy left her home, for she lievor had another. Mr. Warren proved true to his threat; and woe the more in! flexible because Carolina hod eloped on the very night ho had pleaded so .earnestly with her. •She left me with my kiss still worm upon her cheek," he said; "she preferred another, and a stranger, to me; she treated me, not like her best friend, but like an enemy, end hence forth she is banished from my heart." Yes: s h e never agaitr bad a home. Iler husband took her to a hotel, where they remained saveral week, hoping f daily to receive a summons from her father, but as fionoi came, they were forced at last to retire to a cheap boarding house. Here, amid indiarent society, Caroline, who had been tenderly nurtured, learned,soon to feel • acutely the advantages of which sho had deprived herself, and learned to long for her old home. If her husband had really loved ti r, or ifsho could halie continued to pursuade herself th,lt her fattier had been unjust, she might have found so l me salvation in her al tered fortune. But her husband, angry that her father was inexorable, now began to punish Carols to for her, father's firmness, by neglecting betTaild loft her, evening after evening, to amuse hen.elf while he spent the hour] at the WU:Ltd-table, in the theatre. or with some ga . l• friends over a bottle or two of wino. It was now that Caroline saw the correctness of the judgement which her fother , had expressed respecting Collins. She not. only learned that he was both idle an d a srea d thi i ft , but discovered that he was intemperate, passionate •and un- principled. Often, when ho came home excited by w-ine, ho would address her in t most Lt utul manner, charging their pre-' sent poverty on her, or rather on her "niggardly father," as ho called Mr. Warren to her Tice. At lasti i ono night he returned, in a state of violent excitement from. the gaining table, where he had lost largely. and finding Ca rolina weeping, struck her a blow in a fit of passion, that tolled her to the floor, where she lay bleeding:- And this was the end of her dream' of romance! Into this slavery, into this deep degradatimi, had her vanit3 led her. Ashamed to tell the truth, and Ii row herself on her father for protection. sho endured for !limo than a year, every variety of insult fro hi her husband; her health. meanwhile, consuming away, and her spirits which had 1 once been so high. utteriy broken. ' 011,„how ofteir she repented her folly. How, wheit she heard of others of her sex forming clandestine mar riages, she would shudder and exclaim, ' , Alas: the chances aro that they will be misorahlo - . as I am. Cait they n o t see that the man who persuades them to diso bey their parents, shows, in that very thing, n want of principle that promises halo for their 'future happiness. But the cup of misery was not Yet full. She had been married a little over a year when her husband lefti her to visit a neighboring city; and though site waited his return long after the promised day, ho neve r came. At last a letter from him was put into her hands, and the inlesavo announced, in the most unfeeling terms, that he had left her forever. She sank into a swooon and lay far hours before she recto,cred. When'she regained her COIISCIOIFIICSS, it was to shudder at her condition, for she was penniless, with board for many weeks due, Mid not a friend on whom she could call tit light st loan s : Soddenly the parable of the Prodigal Son came up to her memory "I will arise and go to my father," she said, humbly, in the words of that beautiful story; end, With the exela. sho went forth, o seek her ho:no aid suo for forgiveness, heartbroken as she was. It was snowing fast, but she did not heed it: She had thrown on a bonnet and'a light shawl: but had for gotten to chtinge her thin shoes, or to assume a cloak. The molting fishes penetrated her slight attire, but 'she hurried on, breasting the wil.diempest. She arrived at last iii the proud square where- her fath er lived, and stood a few Moments after in front of the house. The window shutters were still 'open, though twilight had sot in, and through tho curtains tho ruddy glow of the tiro within shot athwart the stormy night. A sharp pain twiched her in the heart:l she felt pain, and staggering up the stops, just managed to pull tho bell, when consciousness departed her. The servant who answered the door, started and cried out when ho saw rqf arently a lifeless corpse lying on the step, with the fast felling snow rapidly covering it; and Mr. and MTII. NV arre it, who wore sitting by the parlor fire, coming out to learn the cause of the distur= Lance, stagtiored to behold in the emaciated form, their disobedient chilli„ They took her in, they wrapped her in warm clothing, they laid her on her own bed; but it was of no avail She revived just enough to ask their forgiveness, and rooieve it from them weeping. Then murmuring bless ings on them. she died. This may be thought a fancy sketch; but it is not, It may be thought an excessive case, it is not that either. Caroline Collins, or Warren, es we would rather call her, 'was early delivered from her sufferings: and in that, terrible as death may seem to the young And happy. she was blessed. There are others, victims of runaway matches, who drag out an extensive so miser i able tha t the grave itself would be a relief. But as the Scripture impressively says—they that sow the whirlwind, shall reap the storm, Icnowledgo is its owln exceeding groat reward. It not the gift of a College particularly. It is whatever the mind produces whenever it acts. Great' schools aro chiefly appliances 'for the lazy, to furnish substitutes fdr knowledge by which to make their way iu the world. A youth who has a noble thirst fur science, is not so much, benofitted by a "liberal education" as he is apt to iron: Me he will be, before trying it. if you r parents are rich, and nothing better to do with their money, lot them board you at Cambridge or:lrale for four `•cars. But if they aro poor laboring people. stay with them and labor too. But don't the less strive for a liberal ed ucation. Ho libbral in supplying yourself with books and time. Journey - on foot and study naturo and mon. Educate Yourself. Ask questions of every body and everything. Thus doing. you will probably acquire more satisfactory ; end useful knowledge, and what is more sounder, character and firmer health—you will be more of a man than if you distress your parents to have knowledge put into your mouth with a pap-spoon. It is thus that the great est and bust men are made in every country, ILT A minister at church approached 4 little urchin scarcely a dazon'years old, and laying his hand upon his • shoulder, thus addressed him: , 4 •lq son, 1 believe ttio devil has bold of yea." , •1" believe so too, w was the si&riittul reply of the urchin. '' ' reacher UV' ONWA D ' MORNING, AUGUST 24, 1850. , Th e Bill Paid. Medical stddeuts may bo proverbially •'hard cases, aught we know. Yet it cannot be donie4 that few aro more benevolent anti kimt-hearted, then these same hard cases are. it truly be because they witness so much suf fering and distress, and they become accustomed, as it were, to scenes front which at first they turned away, un able to witness. A few years ago wo happened to be M tho company of a number of stitt6titx, fret l tt olio of whom we hourd the following story: It was on a cold Christman morning, ih the year 18— , a medical student, who I will call Rush Ruddy .usli Rudder, was pro , ceeding on his way to moot some follow students in the beautiful little village of Richmond, where, forgetting books and studies, they had intended to pond the anni versary of tho'day, which brought peace and good will to men. As he was passing through one of thoso narrow streets in the noilhernpart of the city, ho mot a small girl, weeping. as if her heart would break. The crowd passed on without noticing her; but when the poor htudont saw her, his heart was touched, and ho could not pass without inquiring the cause or her grid. "Oh sir," sho answered him, "it is not for myself 1 care, but mother is su sick, and she sons me to the tailor tor whom she works, but he would not ply me." "Whore does your mother Heel" he asked, after ho bad listened to Her pi in story. Tho little girl led him into n small house, where lay n sick woman laboring under great debility, and rapidly sinking for want of proper nour ishment. ' Ever and anon could be hoard tho laugh of passers by clad in furs and well protected frorn the keen blasts of Boroas, as they joined in tho merry-making of that festive day—and the sick woman would siet_az their merry laugh fell upon her ears. It may be, her mind reverted to her happier days. Such thoughts will often steal upon the distto.sod, however much they guard themselves ' against, them. .*1 will get you canto medicine, which 1 hope ‘?ill do you good," ; said the student. “But,"—„ No matter about that," said he, knowing full well what sho wan about to say. "No matter, you can pay mo when you get money enough to spare," and without waiting to hear any objections on her part, ho wished her a God day, promising to call soon again. So much time had elaps ed while the studenC was Lillis en7aged , that it was too late for Inin to moot his friends, I' ns! at matting' in the morning, he had intended. Every morning n supply of food and medicine was seat to Ma poor woman, who under proper nourishment, rapidly improved convalescent: and every day did the student wend his way to his patient to enquire hew she- The commencement of the University took 'plaid°, ro l l d Rusk j i ltuddi3r received his diplunill with honor. 'limo radio on, and Mr., now Rush itAdJer, M. 1)., was attending to the arduous duties of his profession, in his native city, Cincinnati, when one fine morning, several years after he had left the University, asplendid coach drove up lb his door, and a baautifial female en tered his office. Tho 3 oun g . physician ,lafted his eyes from the books 140 l had been reading, and fancied he had seen that foci) before, but when, or how, or where, ho know net: t "1 have con n, sir," said she,Ple ply you for medi cine received from you long, Itiit:l' ngo." "When did you receive the ' modicines7t' a%k l ed the Doctor in u business manner, (hut it was a counter felt) • 1 "On a cold Christmas morning, in the year Iti—. you met a poor girl crying, in the city of Philadelphia. 1 you spoke kindly to her, followed her to our sick moth r. and purchased food and inrifieine tintill she reeovere il That poor sick woman, %vas tho only daughter of a wealthy gentleman, but marrying contrary to her father's s ish, he baniihed her from his houso. I ler husband soon died, and she was forced to support herself and i child by her'ne di°. but unused to labor, dogs and nights of toil were too much for her, and site sank beneath tho task; soil had it not been for you, she must have d:ed, and her daughter been exposed to the charinties of a cold, heartless world; lea, to all tho temptations to which helpless fomales aro subject in our large cities. Iler father died shortly 'after her recovery, without a will consequently sho _fell heir to all his vast estate. Kind sir, that woman Was niy mother, and 1 am the little gill you spoke so kindly to." The rest of my story is soon told. They were mar. riod, Dr. Rudder and the wealthy heiress. And if yon over vi,it the city of Ciireinnati, you may see (ho beau tiful house where Rush iliudder has retired front prac tiCe;:still he pursues the study of his favorite science, and much are we indebted to hint for his researches in the field of Medicines. It was in ono night that 4000 persons perished by, tho plague of Londcin in 160. It WWI at ono night that tho army of- Sonnachorib was destroyed. Both in England ,and on the continent a largo proportion of the cholera cases have been obietvod to havo occurred between ono and two o'clock in the morning. The danger of expo su to night air has boon the theme of physicians from limo immemorial; but it is remarkablo that they have It is at night that the stratum of air nearest the ground must always be the most charged with the particles of animnlinci matter given out from tho skin, and deleteri ous gasses, carbonic acid gas, tiro product of restriration, and sulphurotted hydrogen, the product of the sewers. In tiro day gasses, and vaporous substances of all kinds ri l so in the air by the rarefaction of heat; . at night when this refection leaves thorn, they full by an 'Merriest) of gravity, if imperfectly mixed with :ho atmosphere, while the gasses evolved during the night, instead of 'ascend ing, remain nearly at lino same level. It is known that carbonic acid gni at a low temperature partakes so near ly of the nature of a fluid. that it may bo poured out_of ono vessel into another; it rises at the temperature at which it is exhaled from tiro lungs,bot its tendency is toward the floor, or tiro bed of the sleeper, iu cold and unventilated rooms. I 1 Facts Relative to Epidemics. ever yet culled ietlio- aid of chemistry to accouut for lo fact. At Liarnliurg, the alarm of cholera at night in some parts of the city was so great, that on some occasions many refused to go to bed,. lest they should be attacked' unawares in their sleep. - Sitting up, they probably kept their stoves or open fir es burning for the solo; pf warmth, and that warmth giving the expansion to any deleterious gasses present. wlutett woad bestiprornoto Melr dilution in the atmosphere, she means of safety were thus uncon sciously assured. At Sierra Leone, the natives have a parcticoin the sickly season of keeping fires constantly burning in tho huts at night, assigning That tho fires 'kept away - the evil spirits, to which, in their ignormace, they attribute fever and ague. Latterly, Europeane have begun to adopt the seine practice; and those who have tried it, assert.that they have now entire immunity from tho tropical fevers to which they were formerly subject. ll] A 'mlq le tailor in the meining by half an inch theirlio ie at night.—Lowell Voz roputi. Don't behove that. any way. Please explain the rea son for the assertion.—Lawrenee Courier. With the greatest pleasure. Sleep allows him to for get his indebtedness to the printer: but he sinks :: ne ar inch into his boots at breakfast, when be tat Ai . 9 4 newspaper and thinks he hasn't paid for, the lAA six .! • mouth's subscription.—Voz Poen. o. • MEMORIES. DV n roDui: rkesTicv lIM Otter wore. once more. wy diary I vittly that lone-dream, Where first within thy timid car breathed love's burning, dreant; The bird.; no hired still tell their talcs Of 11111.0 C on each spray, And still the wild rose docks the vale— !hit thton art far away. • In tai n thy vanialusl form I sack, • By acrid and stream an I dell, And tear of nugnish burn my cheek Where peery of rapture fell: And yet beneath these 15 dd ttcard bower a Bear thoughts my soul employ, I•'or in the in miortes - of plat hour., There is a nournfill joy. Upon the ;lir thy gentle words Around inee.ein to thrill., Like sooint+ orlon the t‘ild harp's chord.; When all the Wlllll/ are 11111. Or like the low and soot-like swell Ui deer ti 11.1-sioirlt torte, •• Whidi It units the hollow of the hell %Viten iti ,a4l chine ii dome. • I -cent to hear thee speak uiy iia 'i lc In ,:wevt, lute nuirmiiN now. I eeew to feel th)l breath of 11 One Upon my cheek and brow; iny cold litn , I feel thy 151...., 'llly heart to mine is ' Alan that such a diva'', of 111-4 Li he other dreaiik tllll.l 10,10! THE ORPHAN BOY ”Ile Wed, }et S.Jeanuly nterk, So gelid} scan, so scclvtly weals." The bustle of this light was over; the prisoners had been secured, and the decks washed down the watch piped, and the schooner had once more roleapsed into midnight quiet and repose. I sought my hammock and soon fell as leep. lint my slumbers were disturbed by wild dreams. winch, like the visions of a fever, agitated and unnerved e; the last strife, the hardships of My early life, and a thousand other things, mingled together as figures In a l ithantasmogoria. Suddenly a hand was laid on myshoul• der, acid starting up I beheld the surgeons mato. "14ittle Dick, sir, is dying," Ito said. _ At once 1 sprang from hammock. Little Dick was n sort of protege of mine. Ile was a pale, delicate child, said to be an orphan, and used to n gentle nature; and from the first hour I joined the schooner, my heart yearn towaids him, for I too, had once been friendless and alone n the tt end, Ile hail often talked to mo in confidence of his mother, whose memory he regarded with holy re verence, while to the other boys, of the ship, he had little to say; for they were rude and coarse, he delicate and sensitive. 'Often wliCti they . jeered him for his melan choly, he would go apart by himself and weep. Ho never complained of his lot, though his companions imposed on hint continually, Poor lad! his heart was iu the grave with his 10-t parents. I took a strange interest in him, and had lightened his task as mach' as possible. During the late light 1 bad •owed ray life to lain, for he. rushed in just as a sabre stroke • , was levelled at me; and by • interposing his feeble cutlass had averted the deatily blow. In the hurry and confeSion since, I had quite rorgotton to inquire whether he was hurt, though, nt the timd, I had inwardly resolved to ex ert all my little`influence to procure him a midshipman's warrant in requittal for his service. It was with a pang of reproachful agony, thcicforo, tha t I leaped tp my feet "Mv Cod!" 1 exclaimed, "you don't mean it, he is not dying?" „ "I fear, sir," said the messenger, shaking his heed sally, "that he cannot live MI morning." •'.lud I have been Icing idle here!" I exclaimed with remorse. "Lead me to him." "Ito is delirious, butgat the interval.; oflumsey he isi,lrs for you, sir," and as the man spoke, we stood beside the bed of the boy. The stringer did not lie in his hammock, as it was hefug , in the very midst of the crow, itnd tho close air around i t was so stifling that lie had been carried under the open hatchwicy, and laid thero l in a little open space of about four feet square. From the sound of i dle ripples I judged the vessol was in motion, while the clear, calm I blue sky. seen through the opening overhead, and clotted Witll Myriads of stars, betokened thlit the fog had broken away. flow calm it smiled down on the wan face of the dying boy. Occasionally a light icurront of wind—oh, how deliciously cool in that pent up hold—oddied down tho hatchway and lifted tho dark chestnut locks of tiro sufferer, as with his bead reposing un the lap of an old veteran, ho lay in air inquiet slumber. His shirt collar was unbuttoned, and his ch.blish boom, as white as that of a girl, was opened and exposed. Her breathed quick and heavily. Th 6 of which he Wll9 dying had been in tensely painful, but within the cliost half hour bad some what lulled, though oven now his thin fingers tightly grasped the bed clothes, as if ho suffered thus groastest agony. A battic-staiiied and gray-haired seaman stood beside hint, holding a dull lantorn in his hand and gazing sor rowfully down upon the sufferer. The surgeon knoll with his finger on the boy's pulse. As I . approached, they all looked up. The veteran whe'held him shook his head, and would have spoken, but the tears gathered too chokingly in his eyes. The burgeon, said— "lle is going fast—poor little fellowdo yoti see this?" As ho spoke he lifted tip a rich gold locket winch had, lain upon the boy's breast. "Ile has seen better days.' I could not answer, my heart was full—hero was the being to whom a few hours before I had owed my life— a poor, slight, unprotected:child—lying before me, with death already witten on his brow—and yet I had never sought him out after the conflict. How bitterly my heart reproached me at that hour. 'They noticed my agitation, and his old friend, tlio seaman who held his head, slid sadly— , "Poor little Dick, you'll . yever.sco the shore you have wishod for so long, But there'll be ml TO than ono, whoa your log's out," ho spelto with emotion—"to mourn over yon." Suddenly tho little fellow opened his eyes and looked vacantly 'around. "alas Ito come yet?" ho asked in a low voice; **why won't ho come?" ' "I am bere," said I, taking the, little fellow's hand, "don't you know me Dick?" Ile smiled faintly in my face. Ito then Said:—"You have been-kind to me, sir—kinder than the west of peo ple are to a pour orphan' buy. I have 110 way to show my gratitiuloutiless you will !alto the bible you will find iu my trunk. it's u small oaring I know, but it's all I have." I burst jilt° tours—bo resumed, "Doctor. I'm d)ing. ain't IV" said' tho Unto follow. "for rviysight grows dim. God blesayon. Mr. r t .infori.h." pco I do nothing for youi.Dicla" said 1; "you saved ruy . lifo. I would coin my blood to boy yours, "1 have nothing to ask—l don't want to lite—only. if it's possible. let mo be buried by my mother—ymx`ll find die name of the piece and all about IR uNy trunkt' I "Anything. everything, my pori, l t answered ehokingly, ".i . no little follow sa - .,tiledf i xratN-7it wars like an angel's smile-Aut,he did not arwarer. His eyes wore fixed on thr t i.alaTs *ckoring is that patch oft)* sky overhead.- I:l,is, mind, wandered. - Otis a long. long ways I mp there—but there aro brighl angels among them. Mother, used 'to say that 1, walla; TM Si 50 A TEAll;'in Advante. Meet her there. How near they come, find I seo sweet faces smiling on mo from 'among them. Hark: is that music?" and lifting his finger. he seemed listening for a moment. Ile fell back, and the old veteran burst into tears-Lthe child was dead. Did he indeed heeteaogel's voices? God grant it—Notional Intelligentcr. The Horse Known by His Ears. The size, position, and motion of the ears of whosse ere important points. Those rather small than largo: placed not too far apart• erect and quick iu motion, indi emo b ot h br e eding and spirit; and if a bona is in the habit of carrying ono ear forward, and especially if he does so on n journey, ho will generally possess both spirit end continuance. Tho stretching of tho-ears in contrary directions, shows tlhit be is attentive to everything that is passing around him, and while he is doing this ho can not be much fatigued, nor likely soon to become so. It has been renntrked, that few horses sleep without point ing one car forward and tho other backward, in order that limy may receive notice of the approach of objects is any direetion. When horses or mubis march in compa ny at night, those in front direci them back Ward; and thole in the middle of the train turn thent , laterally or crosswise—the whole scorning thus to be actuated by ono feeling. which Ketches their general safety. The earn the horse is ono of the most beautiful parts about him, and by few things is the temper rncro easily indicated than h‘ , its motion. The ear is more intelligible oven I - than the eye; end a person accustomed to the horse can tell, by the expressive motion of that organ, almost all he thinks or means. When a horse lays his oars !tat back on his neek,ho most assuredly is meditating mischief,and the 1,1 , 4;111,1er should bo aware of his keels or his teeth. In play the ears will be laid back, but not sa decidedly or so long. A quick change in their position, and more particularly in the expression of the eye at the time, will distinguish between playfulness and vice. The hearing of the horse is remarkably acute. A thousand vibrations of the air, too slight to make any impression on the hu man ear, are readily perceived by him. It is well known to every hunting man, that the cry of hounds will bo recognited by the horse, and his ears will be erect, and to will be all spirits and impatience, a considerable limo before the rider is conscion; of the least sound. No one can be in Monterey n-single night without be ing st in ed and awed be the deep, solemn crashes of the surf as it breaks along the Shore. There is no continu ous roar of the plunging waves, as wo hear on the At lantic sraboard; the slow, regular swells—quiet pulsa tions of the great Pacific's heart—roll inward in unbro ken line's, and fall with single, grand crashes, with inter vals of dead silence between. They May be heard throi I.lle dnv, if one listemil like a solemn undertone to all the shallow noises of the town; but at midnight, whed all else, is still, those successive shocks fall upon the ear with a sensation' of inexpressible solemnity. All tho fro l m the pine forests to the sea, is filled with a light trio - - tier, and the intermitting beats of, sound are strong enough to jar a delicilie car. Their constant repetition at last produces a fMing something like terror. A spir -i t worn and weakened by some scathing sorrow would scarcely bear the reverberation. When there has 'been a gale outside, and a morning of dazzling clearndss succeeds a night of fog and cold wind, the swells f l ire loudest and most magoificeni.— . Thea their lines of foam arc hung upwards like ' 4 snowy ft Inge along the dark blue hem‘of the sett, and a light i glft. tering mist constantly rising from the hollow curve of tho shore. One quiet Sunday afternoon, when the uproar was such as to be almost fell in the solid earth, 1 walked out along the sand till I had passed the anchorage, and could look on the open Pacific. The surfaco of the bay - was Comparattvoly calm; but within a few hundred yards of the it upheaved with a slow,majostic movement. forming a single , lino more than a mile in length, which. as it advanced, presented a perpendicular front of clear green water, twelve feet in height. There was a grad-' unl curving in of this emerald wall—a moment's waver, and the whole mass fell forward with a thundering crash . hurling the shattered spray thirty feet into the air. A second rebound followed; and the boiling, seething wa- Itors raced fw up tho sand with a sharp, trampling, me talic sound, like the jingling of a thousand bars 'of iron. 1 sat down on a•pine log; above the highest wave mark, \ and watched this sublime phenomenon for a long time The sand-bills behind me confined tho redoubled sound. I prolonging it from crash to crash, so that the car was constantly filled with it. Once, a tremendous swell came in close on the heels of one that had just broken, and the two uniting, made one wave which shot far beyond tho water-line, and build me above the knees. As far as I couldsee, the shorn was white with tho subsiding del uge. It was a lino illustration of the magnificauf lart gnaw) of the scripture: "lie snaked) the deep to WV like a pot; he !naked' the sea like a pot of ointment; ono would think tho deep to be hoary."-Bayord Taylor's California. N Sleeting Each Other Half Way—and—Going By A medical student of Berlin lately fell deeply, in love with the daughter of the ludy at whose house he lodged,' his passion was warmly returned, and the lovers swore eternal fidelity and entered into a promise to marry. But there was nit insurmountable barrier to their union, the fact of the lady being a Protestant Christian. and the gentleman a Jew; and both professed themselves no less attached to their faith than to each other. Busi ness called the youth to Breslau; and when he had beep there a few days, he' received a letter from his mistress couched in the following terms: ..My Dear Friend—The difficulties which have so long stood in the way of our marriage hare at length been put to an end to, and by the iigerveatiao or your good angel, as you have so often called your faithful Minna, who yesterday became a Jewess." Scarcely had this letter, been dispatched when its writer reciered ono from tier lover, dated Breslau, and to the following effect; ..111y Dear Minna—The obstacio which presentAl it, self to our union, in rho unfortunate differences in our religious faiths, no longer exists, and I shall hasten to complete our mutual felicity. I yesterday became Christian!" "How long will it take me. to reach Jamaica?" Darn pedestrian on the Jamaica turnpike. "Walk on, walk on," said- the person interrogated. Thinking he was ntisunderstood, the traveler repeated the question, when the eamo answer was 'returned. Fancying that the matt was crazy, the pedestrian walked on at en accelerated pace. "Look here," said the interrogated party, calling after the Traveler, "It'll take you half an hour. I could not tell you, till I saw how fast you walked, what you'd make:" Ito lived near Ito trition course most probably. Consistent Servant. A very good lady in Boston, had in her emphl . rlicrlA young µum from the country, On certain OC:411101); he, was instructed to inform any company who might, wring at the door that ••Alrs.--,, wan /Pt at , home,," One day John made this reply to an, ietiutato friend, of. the lady, who shortly wont away, loa.visgber, card and a promise to cell again. As tbo card was handedto Mrs. --.; she said: ••John, what did you say lathe lady?" "1 told her you, wore not at home. 6.We11, .4Jut, 1 hope you did not laugh?" .'Ohoe, ma'am," said John, "1 never laugh when tell esho." 1= II NUMBER 15. Th 3 Surf of Mo7►toroy A Conscientious nesportent,
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