TERMS OF THE GLOBE. Per annum in advance Six months Hiroo months 50 A failure to notify a.tliscontitnuaneo at the expiriation of the term subscribed' fur will be con6idered a new engage ment. • TERNS O' ADVERTISING. ' 1 insertion. 2 do. " S do, tour lines or less, - $ 23... $ 37 1 ,4 4 * , 40 (inc square, (12 liues,) ...... .... 50 75 100 Two squares, 1 00 1 50 2 00 Three squares, 1 50 2 25 1 00 Orer three week and less than three months, 25 cents per square for each insertion. 3 months. 6 months. 12 months. FAX lines or less, $l. 50 $4; 00 $5 00 One square, 3 00 5 00 7 00 Two squares,.. 5 00 S 00 10 00 Three squares, , 7 00 10 00 15 00 Four squares; . 900 13 00 "0 00 Half a column, 12 00 16 00 "I 00 One column, "0 00 10 00 50 00 Froiessional and thisinns Cards not exceeding four lines, one year,s3 00 Administrators' and Executors' Notices, i;1. 75 Advertisements not marked with the number of inser tion.; de,dred, will be sontinued till forbid and charged ac cording to these terms. lUNRIV".A.LLED ATTRACTIONS ! EMERSON'S MAGAZINE AND PUTNAM'S MONTHLY, TWO GREAT MAGAZINES IN ONE!! NINETY THOUSAND COPIES THE FIRST MONTH::: MAGNIFICENT PROGRAMME FOR 1858. TWENTY TIIOUSAND DOLLARS IN SPLENDID WORKS olr ART. FIVE-DOLLAR ENGRAVING TO EVERY SUBSCRIBER. TILE GREAT LIBRARY OFFER-AGENTS GETTING I : The union of Emerson's Magazine and Pat natn's Monthly has given to the consolidated work a circulation second to but one similar publication in the country, and has secur ed for it a combination of literary mid artistic talent prob ably unrivaled by any other Magazine in the world. Du ring the first month, the sale in the toule and demand from subscribers exceeded 90,000 copies, and the numbers al ready issued of the consolidated work are universally con ceded to haVe surpassed. in the richness of their literary contents, and the beauty and profuseness of their pictorial illustrations, any magazine ever before issued from the American press. Encouraged by these evidences of favor, the publishers have determined to commence tho new vol ume in January with still additional attractions, and to offer such inducements to subscribers as cannot fail to place it, in circulation, at the head of American magazines. With this view they now announce the following splendid' programme. They have purchased that superb and costly steel-plate engraving. .• THE LAST SUPPNR," and will present it to every three-dollar subscriber for the .year 153 x. It was engraved at a cost of over $5.000, by the celebrated A. L. Dick, from the original of Raphael Morghen, after Leonardo Pa Vinci, and is the largest steel plate engraving ever executed its this country, being three times the size of the ordinary three-dollar engravings. The first impressions of this engraving are held at ten dollars, and it was the intention of the artist that none of the engravings should ever be offered tbr a less emit than five dollars, being richly worth that amount. Thus every three-dollar subscriber will receive the Magazine one year —cheap at three. dollars—and this splendid engraving, richly worth $5 ; thus getting for $3 the value of SS. We shall commence striking off the engravings immedi ately. yet it can hardly be expected that impressions of so large a plate can be taken as fast as they will be called for by subserilmrs. We shall, therefore. furnish them in the order in which subscriptions are received. Those who tied re to obtain their engravim , s early, and front the first impre , siolls. should send in their subscriptions without delay. The engraving can be Rellt on rollers. by mail, or iu any other manner, as subscribers shall order. TWENTY TIIOUSAND DOIMARS 1N WORKS OF ART. In addition to the superb engraving of " The Last Sup per." which will be presented to every three-dollar sub scriber lin: ISSS. the publishers have completed arrange nients Gtr the distribution, on the 35th of December, ISSS• of a series of splendid works of art, consisting of one lain dred rich and 1'.1.1%.` Oil Paintings, valued at from SI 00 to $l,OOO each. Also '2.000 magnificent :zztuel-Platu Faigra ings, Ivorth from three to live dollars each, and 1. 1 100 choice Holiday Books. worth from one to live .I°D:tr.; each. making, in all, over three thou:quid gifts, wolth (weld!, thousand dolbtrs. inclose $1 to the publishers and you will continence re eeiving the 'Magazine by return wail. You will also re vehe with thu first ropy a numbered sub:eription receipt entitling you to the engraving of "TAUS LAST SUPPI'.II," and a chance to draw one of these "three thousand prize 1u SONS XV ll' YOU STIMULI) SI:it:WI:1M F(M EM.ERSON'S 31.1(1.17.1N E FOIL .Ib5S. Ist. tecau,e it, iiter.uy contents will, during . the year. embrace contribution-4 front over one hundred tlinl-rent writers mid thinkers, numbering among them the most cEtstingui..hed of American authors. 2d. llecau,e its editorial departments. " Our Studio," "Our Window." air I "Oar Olio," will each be CUllllllVttql say au able edltm--and it will surpass. in the variety anti it - ichness or its editorial colittrits, any other magazine. 1. Bee:tune it will contain, during the ye:tr. marly hundred original pictorial illustrations front ilet.ign, by the first American artists. 4th. Because for the sum cif 83 you will receivo this splendid monthly, more richly t•orth that sum than any other mapzine, and the superb engraving of The Last eAtpper," worth $73. .Ztla.- Because you will be very likely tv diaw one of the Otree t7tt3nsand prizes to be distributed on the 25th day of December.lBsB—pethaps one that is worth $l.OOO. Notwithstanding that these extraordinary inducements CMA hardly fail to accomplish the itltieet of the publisher+ v.-Ptittout litre/ter efforts, yet they have determined to eon 'dune through the year. 'ruE GREAT LIBRAIZY OFFER To any pormn who will get np a club of t itty-four sub scribers, either at one or more post offices, we will present a splendid Library, consisting of over Forty Large Bound Volumes, embracing, the TILO , t , populate works in the mar ket. The club may be for•mmed at the club price. $2 a year, without the engraving. or at the full s:;, with the Last .hipper to each subscriber. List and description of the Library, and specimen copy of the Maga!tine, will he forwanted on receipt of 25 cents. Over 21)0 Libraries, or 8,000 volumes, have already been distributed in accordance wall this oflfm, and we should be glad of an opportunity to furnish a Library to every school teacher, or I. some one of every ' , oat °thee in the country. AGENTS GETTING PLOJE The sneee , s which our agents are meeting v. ill: is littlest nstonishiug. Among the many evidences of this fact, we titre permitted to publish the Mllowing : 13,ENTLEaEN: The following facts in relation to what year Agents are doing in this section, may be of use to some enterprising young man in want of employment.— The Bev. John E. Jartlott, of this place, has made, since last Christmas, Over $4,000 in his agency-. Mr. David M. leat h. of ltidgly, )10., your general ' agent for Platt county, is making:33 per day on each subagent employed by him, and Messrs. Wenner & Evans. ; of Oregon, Mo,, your agents for that county, ate making front i , ,St to 25 per day, and your humble servant has made, since the 7th day of last January, over i:1.700. besides paying for 300 acres of land out of the business worth over $1.,000. You are at liberty to publish this statement, if you like, and to refer to any of the parties named. ll.^.Nita.OnEcc, Carrolton, Mo. With such inducements as we offer, anybody can obtain subscribers. We invite every gentleman unt of employ ment, mid every lady aho desires a pleasant money-ma king occupation to apply at once for an agency. Appli cants should inclose 25 cents for a specimen copy of the Magazine, which will always he forwarded with answer to application by return L-3L 7 IiCIMES EN-UNITING. As we desire to place in the hands of every person ',rho proposes to get tip a dub, and also of every agent, a copy of the engraving of •• The last thlpper," as a specimen, each applicant inclosing us will receive the engraving. post-paid, by return-mail. al<o specimens of our publication and one of the numbered subscription receipts, entitling the holder to the 'Magazine one year mid to a chance in the distribution. This offer is made onis to those who desire to act as agents or to form clubs. Address OAKS3IITIf co— Jan. 13, 185 S. No. 371 Broadway. New York. IIIIPORT AN T 'TO FARM NllB.---=The most valuable MANURE now in the market is MIT i=3„..,...,,eROASDALE'S Improved Ammoniated. BONE SUPER-PHOSPHATE OF LIME, It not only etiumlates the growing crop. brit permanently enriches the land. It is prepared entirely by ourselves under the direction or one of the first Chemists in the conntri'. and is loarraalediut and tent:form in its compt,sltion. It only needs to be Seen by the intelligent Fanner to convince hini of its intrinsic value as a permanent Fertilizer. For sale iii or ronall quantities, by - CROASDALII. PEIRCE & CO., 104 North * Wharves. ono door above Arch St., Phi Ma.. And by most of the principal dealers throughout the coun try. flllarch 24,1855-3 m. ALEXANDRIA FOUNDRY ! The Alexandria. Foundry has been rr nought by IL C. McOILL, and is in blast,fie.and have all kinds of Castings. Stoves, nt... . • chines, Plows, kettles, &c., &c., which he i'47.4rrOn7,,ii will sell at the lowest prices. All kinds ?1-2-:,"rft,, ,1 ; 7 -es..-.;,. of Country Produce and Old Metal taken in exchange fur ,Castings, it market prices April 7, I.SSS --- NOTIOE.--Estate of John Hastings, dec'd. Letters of Administration. with the will an neN.ed, on the Estate of JOHN HASTI:CGS, late of Walk er township, Huntingdon county. decd., liaving been granted to the undersigned, she hereby notifies all persons indebted to said estate to make immediate payment. and those baying claims against the same to present them duly authenticated for settlement. April 21,1855. ELLEN 'IA STING S. Adm't rix. 0 MERCHANTS AN I) FAR RS. GROUND PLASTER can be had at the ITuntingdon l our and Plaster Mills, in any desirable quantities, on and after the Ist day of March, 1.858. We deliver it froe of charge on the cars at the depots of the Pennsylvania and Broad Top Railroads, Feb. 24, 185 S, - COUNTRY DEALERS can e Vir477l 7 " buy CLOUTING from me in Huntingdon at WlTOLESAlkEnwehertp as they can in the cities, as T have a wholesale store in Philadelphia. • Huntingdon, April 14, MS. 11. ROMAN. F YOCWANT -TO BE CIMTIII7;D, Call :At tiu •t nil` Of $1 50 R. C. MCGILL FISHER d: 31c3IIIRTILIE BEN.T..TAC4IJIS WILLIAM - LEWIS, VOL, XIV, tied`,`Voctt . . SOW THE SEED. I= There be these who so«• beside The %%aters that in silence, glide, Trusting no echo will declare 'hose footsteps ever wander . tl there The noiseless footsteps pass away. The stream flows on as yesterday; Nur can it for a time be seen A benefactor there had been. Yet think not that the seed is dead Which in the lonley place is Spread It lives! it lives! the spring, is nigh, And soon its life• shall testify. That sih•ut stream, that desert groand, No more unlovely shall be found; Ent seatteed flowers of simplest grace Slmll spread their beauty round the place, And soon ur late a time will come When witness.es, that now are dumb, With grateful elogimuce shall tell From whom the seed there seattet'd fell THE FL.WIIT OF TIME. Faintly flow, thou falling river, Like a dream that dies away; flown to ocean gliding ever. Keep the calm unruffled way Time with such a silent motion, Floats along on wing; of air, eternity'" dark ocean. Burying all its treasures there Plows bloom and then they II idler; Cheeks are bright, then fade and die It'hapes of light arc wafted hither— Then, like visions, hurry by: Quick a CiOlidi evetting driveu O'er the many-colored west, Years are hearing us to heaven, Ifunw of thippitiess ml rest L - 3,11. Linttresting ,Ciiittrij. A RUN FOR LIFE Philip Rodney, a planter living in the inte rior of Arkansas, had missed several hogs from the pen in which he was fatteningthem fur the autumn. The pen was built at the base of a high hill which hid it from the house, and just on the edge of an upland jungle or thicket of undergrowth which extend ed along to the nearest spur of some neigh boring hills, which swelled upward to a height almost entitling them to be called mountain range,, Surprised at the loss of his hogs, Mr. Rodney determined to keep a strict watch, and, if possible, detect the depreda tor upon his property. One morning, just at dawn of day, he heard the squeal of a hog in the direction of his pen. Springing out of bed and passing on his garments, he hurried to the rescue of the squealing porker. As soon as he came in sight of the pen, he saw a huge bear, with a hog in his mouth and fore-paws, leisurely retreating to the thicket. Returning to the house for his gun a trusty rifle, of large bore, he soon came back to the pen. The bear and hog had both disappeared. Mr. Rodney, who was a bold adventurous man, of high courage and great physical strength at once determined upon pursuit.— The blood of the mutilated hog making a dis tinct mark upon the ground, made it an easy matter to follow the track of its captor. En tering the thicket and going forward a short distance, Mr. Rodney saw the bear some forty or fifty steps in advance of him, deliberately munching the hog for his morning meal.— To raise his rifle, aim and fire, were the work of but a moment. The bear fell apparently lifeless, in his tracks, at the crack of the , Tun. . . . Feeling certain, from the range of his aim and the plump fall of the bear, that he was killed out-right, Mr. Rodney approached with the view of taking a nearer look at his bulky proportions. When within,a few yards of where he lay, the bear, to the great surprise of the planter, rose slowly up, looked fiercely back, gave a deep guttural growl, and start ed forward in the direction of the neighbor ing hills. Mr. Rodney seeing the copious discharge of blood from the wound made by his ball, and observing that the bear staggered iu his gait, followed on after him, expecting soon to see him fall. The bear moved slowly but steadily on, never once looking back at his pursuer, but keeping up a low moan or growl indicative of pain and anger, or of both combined. Having reached the base of the steepest and highest bill in the group, he be gan the ascent with a still slower pace and deeper growls. Mr. Rodney was only a few paces in the rear, and gaining upon him every moment. At last when near the summit of the bill, he came quite up with the bear, whose steps, staggering and slow, seemed faltering with. fatigue and loss of blood.— Thinkin; that only a slight push was needed to bring him to the ground, Mr. Rodney gave the bear a severe punch with the butt end of his gun. The blow seemed to recall both strength and spirit to the now enraged and desperate beast. Turning quickly and sharply round, he stood within a few feet of his pursuer, upon whom he manifestly purposed to make an immediate attack. Mr. Rodney comprehended the full peril of his position in a moment. He had no weap on but his gun, which he had not reloaded after the first discharge. To defend himself with it by blows was utterly impossible, con sidering the size and massive weight of the boar. The only hope of escape was a re treat down the hill, which he began at once with rapid strides. The bear, accelerated in his speed by the momentum of the descent, and perhaps also by pain and anger, rushed headlong after him. From crag to rock, and from rock to crag, the planter leaped with an agility and speed almost incredible to himself. Well he knew that, once within reach of those terri ble jaws gaping to rend and devour him, his wife would be a widow anti his children ••• ... ..... ....._,..:. •.f.li %, i . ' -''''--:','•:;-). ~...• . • :,....• .....•:2 .. :::::;. .; . ! . .. t . '?. - . 1 ;':. . •••••::,?.. '....:.:...„: V'''' .'''•'. ) -.:.. 4,- fatherless, before he could commend himself and them to the mercy of heaven in a prayer. Every moment seemed to increase the speed and fierceness of the hear. When the chase began lie was only a few - feet in the rear of the planter. At the bottom of the hill, which they had now reached, the distance between them was lessened by nearly half. Mr. Rodney, although hard pressed and with no time to lose, ventured to cast one backward glance at his pursuer. The sight was enough to strike even his stout heart with terror. The tongue of the bear, red and swollen, protruded• from his mouth ; white foam covered his lips; the teeth, sharp and shining, were visible in the jaws open already for the seizure of his victim; the ears were thrown back close to the head like those of an angry horse, and a stream of fire seem ed to issue from the sockets of the glaring eyeballs. Escape, longer than for a few mo ments, seemed now utterly impossible. A distance of more than a mile lay between the planter and his home. Thick bushes and brambles impeded every foot of the way as far as the hog-pen, near which he must pass to emerge from the jungle in the direction of the house. To deviate from the path he had come, which was partially trodden clown by the transit of himself and the bear over it, and by the occasional visits of the latter from the bills to the pen, would he to entan gle himself in the undergrowth and fall an immediate victim to the rapacity of his pur suer, whose heavy bulk enabled him to force a swifter passage through the thicket. Along this path, therefore, Mr. Rodney darted with the speed of a man conscious that his life de pended upon the fleetness of his feet. Half the distance between the hill and the pen had been passed. Only a hand-breadth of space intervened between the planter and the muzzle of the bear, outstretched and opened to seize him. The hot foam spatter ed over him, and the hotter breath almost blistered his skin through the thick covering of his clothes. There—he's gone. No! the sharp crack of a rifle rings through the woods, and the bear springs forward and falls dead across the legs of the planter who had been thrown by his death leap, prostrate on the ground. A hunter going early that morning to join his comrades in the chase for deer, chancing to cross the path of Mr. Rodney and the bear, saw the peril of the former, and firing from a.--, , closadistance, sent a heavy rifle "ball thro' the brain of the latter. There was a feast of bear meat for many days at the house of the hospitable planter, at which, we may be sure, the hunter aforesaid was the most hon ored of the guests.—Howe Jourivil. In the course of a recent speech in Con gress, by the Hon. Joseph Lane, of Oregon, he related the following incident, which oc curred in the Indian war of Oregon : While in Oregon last summer, I took oc casion to inquire of the chief, who was main ly instrumental in getting up this war, to learn the particulars of the fate of some of our people who disappeared in the war of 1855, and of whom we had been able to learn nothing. When I suggested to the agent, in the council, that I proposed to inquire into the fate of Mrs. Wagner, Mrs. Haynes, and others, he was inclined to think it would raise the bitter feelings of the Indians, but said that we could make the inquiry. I told him that I had passed through the country where these people had lived, and that their friends were very anxious to learn their fate. We inquired in relation to Mrs. Wagner, who was a well-educated and handsome wom an from New York, who had lived long in the country, and spoke the Indian tongue fluent ly. She kept a public house by the roadside, and the good cheer which she always fur nished made it a place' where travellers de lighted to stop. The Indians informed us that on the morning of the 9th of October, they came in sight of the house, where they met some teamsters and packers, a portion of whom they murdered, destroying the wag ons and cargoes, as well as the animals, while she was standing iu the door. As soon as they had murdered the people outside, they came towards the house, which was strongly built of hewn logs, and had a heavy door, which fastened with crossbars.— When she saw them running towards the house she shut the door and dropped the bars to prevent their coining in. They came to the door and ordered her to come out, and bring her little girl. Sba said "no." Iler husband was absent—and, by the way, he was the only man on that road who escaped. They said that if she did riot come out they would shoot her. She declined, and after some deliberation, they determined to set the house on fire. The house was di rectly enveloped in flames ; and the chief, who watched her through a little window, told me that he saw her go to the glass and arrange her hair, then take a seat in the mid dle of the room, fold her little girl in her arias, and wait calmly until the roof fell in, and they perished in the flames together.— And the statement was confirmed by the peo ple who found their remrins lying together in the middle of the house. The Great Object of Education Self-instruction is the one great object of rational education. In mind as well as body we are children at first, only that we may afterwards become men ; dependent upon others, in order that we may learn from them such lessons as may tend eventually to our edification on an independent basis of our own. The knowledge of facts, or what is generally called learning, however much we may possess of it, is useful so far only as we erect its• materials into a mental frame work ; but useless so long as we suffer it to lie in a heap, inert and without form. The instruction of others, compared with self-in struction, is like the law compared with faith ; a discipline of prepa,iation, beggarly elements, a schoolmaster to lead us on to a a. state of great worthiness,• and: there give up the charge of us.—Bower. HUNTINGDON, PA., JUNE 23, 1858. A Story of Female Heroism -PERSEVERE.- It will be remembered that, some two years ago, the public mind was horrified by an at tempt'that was made in one of our western cities, on the part of a husband, to burn the body of his deceased wife. After the excite ment had in some degree passed away, the subject was discussed by sonic of our city journals in a very calm and instructive man ner ; and it has since received considerable attention from some English physicians.— We are-not prepared to advocate the burning of the dead,-or to dispense with that time honored system of burial which has obtained in all Christain communities since the days of Abraham ; but we consider it a very prop er subject for discussion, and could it be proved, in a sanitary point of view, to obviate a more serious evil, we could become recon ciled to what is now chiefly regarded as an inhuman relic of barbarous people. We, however, differ in opinion from those who undertake to show that disease is propagated from the exhalations of graveyards, in cases where they are properly cared for. So far as our own country is concerned, we believe not a single fact can be adduced in support of such an assertion, unless it result from the inhuman disposal of the remains of out casts in what are known as "Potter's Fields," and which are ofttimes hustled about in pre mature resurrection by the Vandalism of unprincipal money-getters. The whole evil complained of in European cities, if not purely imaginary, arises from that system of intermural burial which is now nearly dis pensed with in all civilized cities. The Evening Post, of this city, notices that a book has lately been published in London, which seeks to show the advantages of the ancient method of burning the dead. The only objection its author, who is a "Mem ber of the College of Surgeons," finds against burial is a sanitary one. lie says that "it is proved beyond all doubt, that during the pro gress of that decomposition which a body undergoes when buried, the elements of which it is composed, before entering into other and purer states, forms certain putrid (rases of so deadly a nature that their inha lation in a concentrated state has been known to cause instant death ; while in a more de luted form, they are productive of the most serious injury to health. These dreadful ef fluvia vary much in their virulence, according to circumstances ; and there is probably one particular stage of decomposition in which they attain their most fatal power." Church-yards are, it is well-known, most pestiferous places. And we are assured that the o.ses -emanating from the bodies when diluted, possesses the power of "producing various diseases; diminishing the average du ration of life, lowering the tone of the gener al health, and thereby rendering thousands more liable to be attacked by fever, cholera, or other epidemics: It is not because they are often imperceptible to the sense of smell that they are harmless." Ilow are these evils to. be averted ? Thirty five millions of human beings die every 3-ear —nearly four thousand every hour. By what means shall this great mass of decaying sub stance be so disposed as not to vitiate the air the living breathe, and the water the living drink? The remedy our author proposes is, as we have hinted, that of burning. To ren der the idea less revolting, lie proposes a plan which seems to him without objection:— "On a gentle eminence, surrounded by pleasent grounds, *lands a convenient, well ventilated chapel, with a high spire or steeple. At the entrance, where some of the mourn ers might prefer to take leave of the body, are chambers for their accommodation.— Within the edifice are seats for those who follow the remains to the last ; there is also an organ and a galley for choristers. In the center of the chapel, embellished with appro priate emblems and devices,is erected a shrine of marble, somewhat like those which cover the ashes of the great and mighty in our old cathedrals, the openings being filled with prepared glass. Within this—a sufficient space intervening—is an inner shrine, cov ered with bright, non-radiating metal, and within this again is a covered sarcophagus of tempered fire-clay, with one or more longi tudinal slits near the top, extending its whole length. As soon as the body is deposed therein, sheets of flame at an immensely high temperature rush through the long ap ertures from end to end, and, acting as a combination of modified oxy-hydrogen blow pipe with the reverberatory furnice, utterly and completely consume and decompose the body in an incredibly short space of time; even the large quantity of water it contains is decomposed by the extreme heat and its elements, instead of retarding, aid combus tion, as is the case in fierce conflagrations.— The gaseous products of combustion are con veyed away by flues, and means being adopt ed to consume anything like smoke, all that is observed from the outside is occassionally a quivering transparent ether floating away from the high steeple to mingle with the at mosphere."—N. P Scientific American. Condemn no man for not thinking as you think. Let every one enjoy the full and free liberty of thinking for himself. Let every man use his own judgment, since every man must give an account of himself to God.— Abhor every approach, in any kind or de gree, to the spirit of persecution. If you cannot reason or persuade a man into the truth never attempt to force him into it. If love will not compel him, leave him to God, the Judge of all. ENTOII BED IN MOLASSES.—Every person who used molasses purchased at a certain store in Wheelin, Virginia, recently, was af fected with a singular sickness. No one could account for this singular fact until the molasses barrel was pretty well drained and the head knocked out of it, when the whole community were astonished at the discovery of a negro child, about eight days old, inside the barrel. The child was lying at the bot tom of the barrel in a state of partial putre-- faction.. To Destroy Rats—Catch them one by one and tlatten their beads in a lemou-squeczer. (The ;those Nvc know to be true.—Dal Burning of the Dead Freedom of Opinion. ~.,,., Marriage has in it less of beauty, but more of safety, than the single life; it bath not more ease, but less danger; it is more merry and more sad ; it is fuller of sorrows and ful ler of joys; it lies under more burdens, but is supported by all the strengths of love and charity, and those burdens are delightful.— Marriage is the mother of the world, and pre serves kingdoms, and fills cities and churches, and Heaven itself. Celibacy, like the fly in the heart of an apple, dWells in perpetual sweetness, but sits alone and is confined and dies in singularity ; but marriage, like the useful bee, builds a house, and gathers sweet ness from every flower, and labors and unites into societies and republics, and sends out colonies, and feed's the world with delicacies, and obeys their ruler, and keeps order, and exercises many virtues, and promotes the in terest of mankind, and is that state of good to which God 'lath designed the present con stitution of the world. The marriage-life is always an insipid, a vexatious, or a happy condition. The first is, when two people of' no genius or taste for themselves meet together, upon such a settle ment as has been thought reasonable by pa rents and conveyancers, from an exact valua tion of the land and cash of both parties.— In this case the young lady's person is no more regarded than the house and improve ments in purchase of an estate; but she goes with her fortune, rather than her fortune with her. These make up the crowd or vul gar of the rich, and fill up the lumber of hu man race, without beneficence towards those below them, or respect towards those above them. The vexatious life arises from a conjunction of two people of quick taste and resentment, put together for reasons well known to their friends, in which especial care is taken to avoid (what they think the chief of evils) poverty, and insure to them riches, with every evil besides. These good people live in a constant constraint before company, and too great familiarity alone. When they are with with- in observation, they fret at each other's car riage and behavior ; when alone, they revile each other's person and conduct. In com pany they are in purgatory ; when only to gether, in a hell. The happy marriage is, where two persons meet and voluntarily make choice of each other, without principally regarding or ne glecting the circumstances of fortune or beauty. These may still love in spite of ad versity or sickness: the former we may, in some measure, defend ourselves from ; the other is the portion of our very make. There is no one thing more lovely in this life, more full of the divine courage, than when a young maiden, from her past life, from her happy childhood, when she rambled over every field and moorearound her home ; when a mother anticipated her wants and soothed her little cares; when brothers and sisters grew, from merry playmates, to loving, trust ful friends, from Christmas gatherings and romps, the summer festivals in bower or gar den ; from the rooms sanctified by the death of relatives ; from the secure backgrounds of her childhood, and girlhood, and maidenhood, looks out into the dark and unilluminated fu ture away from all that, and yet, unterrified, undaunted, leans her fair cheek upon her lover's breast, and whispers, "Dear heart! I cannot see but I believe. The past was beautiful, but the future I can trust—with the!: ."' Wheu'a young wife leaves the society of her own kindred, and goes to reside among those of her husband, she passes under a new set of influences, favorable or unfavorable, to her character and wishes. If she finds their sentiments harmonious with her own, and if both-are elevated and refined, then the union is the augmented flow of a bright and tran quil stream. More happy still for her, if su perior worth or social standing on their part affords a welcome influence to light her to their level. But often she becomes allied to those whose views and ways are quite diverse from hers. The two families, or races, have been trained on different systems, trained to different habits, prejudices, and aims. Then, supposing their standard to he inferior to hers, it will usually and almost necessarily happen, either that she will elevate them, or they will depress her. It is the bubbling spring which flows gen tly, the little rivulet which runs along, clay and night, by the farm-house, that is useful rather than the swollen flood or warning cata ract. Niagara excites our wonder, and we stand amazed at the power and greatness of Clod there, as he " poured it from the hollow of his hand." But one Niagara is enough for the continent or the world, while the same world requires thousands and tens of thousands of silver fountains and gently flow ing rivulets, that water every farm and meadow,,and every garden, and that shall flow on every day and every night with their gentle, quiet beauty. Su with the acts of our lives. It is not by great deeds like those of the martyrs, that good is to be clone; it is by the daily and quiet virtues of life—the Christian temper, the meek forbearance, the spirit of forgiveness, in the husband, the wife, the father, the mother, the brother, the sister, the friend, the neighbor, that it is to be done. An honest son of Erin, green from his peregrinations, put his head into a lawyer's office and asked the inmate— "An' what do you sell here?" "Blockheads,' replied. the limb of the law. " Ooh, thin, to be sure," said Pat, "it must be a good trade, fur I. see there is but one of them left." The question is discussed iu some of the Missouri papers, whether raising twilit) is a good business. A much better business, cer tainly, than being raised by it. A. western Editor expressed his delight at having nearly been called " honey" by the gal he love 3, becaut.e she saluted him as " Old BCCSIVILX " at their last meeting.. Editor and Proprietor, NO. 1. Marriage Silent Influence Changes [For the Huntingdon Globe.] Our friends, our early companions, our loved ones, where are they? In a few brief years they have all left us-- , -what a change ! Yes, those beautiful forms that once greeted us around the fire-side, and at the social board, have all disappeared ; but still their loveliness and beauty strikes us vividly at home and abroad. Their voices we no longer hear sounding their melodies; their songs have been forgotten ; their voices are hush ed ; their bright cheeks faded ; and sonic of them are now chanting praises and singing pleans unto Him who doeth all thittga And soon their footprints will be seen no more upon the sands of time. The glory of millions lie buried in the dust, and earth has sang for them her last requiem ; forgotten they are, and forgotten to earth they will re main. The rulers of other years now min gle with their kindred spirits in the eternal world, and all that was lovely and to he ad mired in them only reminds us of a song that has been sung—whilst they are num= bercd with the things that were. The mag nificent temples that once towered well nigh the clouds have fallen. Greece! lovely Greece! the cradle of lib erty, and the land of swig—where is she now? Sad ! sad indeed does history tell her dooom !—but she is more— Carthage, much honored for her philo:ophers and sages, Has crumbled by Time's mighty hand, amid the wreck: of ages." The poet no longer sings within her walls. The gay, the beautiful, and the happy, feast there no more upon their banqueting songs and sweet clarion notes. Carthage ! unhap py Carthage ! she now lays low—all in a watered stymie/we. her towering domes are no longer seen, and all her proud inhabitants have found a common mausoleum beneath one stagnated pool. The thunderings .of Demosthenes, and Cicero, are no more heard, but hushed forever, and death has been the victor. Troy, 0! where is she ?—let slum-‘ bering millions tell her sad tale. Hector, and all his compeers have bid farewell to earth. The trophies and honors won by con quering victims throughout the world, aro soon to be forgotten. The crowns that wreath ed the conquerors' heads have - faded, and they are cold beneath their mother earth. But will these changes ever cease? We answer nay: all is mortal and all must pass away. 0! sad the thought, time's fleeing and we must go along. A few more days or years, and we, will have seen our last sun, and sang our last song. When the funeral bell will have tolled our funeral march, then loved ones may drop a weeping tear upon our funeral piles, as we now do fur those whom we once loved. Al!" o'er the land and oceans' wave We tind there's ninny changes, Amid the ruler and the slave, FAri/t's grim dmlimyrr rangeg." The West the Seat of Empire Caleb Cushing, in his late speech at Boston; paid the following elegant and striking tribute to the West: "Jealous of the South I Such would not be my theme, if the- demon of sectionalism had so far possessed itself of me. I should not strive to draw the attention of Massachu setts away from the only real danger of a: sectional nature which threatens, and to fas ten her attention upon an imaginary one.— Nor by the comparatively small section of the Union lying between Mason and Dixon's line and the Gulf of Mexico, is the sceptre of the power in this Union to be held hereafter; but by those vast regions of the West---State'after State stretched out like star beyond star in the blue depths of the firmament, far away to the shores of the Pacific. What i 5 th'o power of the old thirteen, North or South, compared with that of the mighty West! There is the seat of empire, and there is the hand of imperial power. Tell me not of the perils of the slave power and the encroach- - meats of the South. Massachusetts and Sonar Carolina will, together, be as clay in the fin gers of the potter, when the great West shall stretch forth its arm of power, as ere long it will, to command the destiny of the Union!' A MILLINER IN TROUBLE.—The Chenango (N. Y.) Telegraph says that a widow lady; keeping a millinery establishment in Mount Upton, was assaulted, in her own store, by a number of ladies, the wives of well-known citizens. The Milliner was badly scratched. in the face ; the bobbinet and the feathers, and the flowers and the tulle, and the thous and and one little traps that go to make up " a love of a bonnet," were awfully scatter ed. It was alleged by the ladies who com mitted the assault that the fair Milliner was more attractive than her bonnets, and that their husbands had more business at the es- - tablishment than seemed necessary. These' facts transpired in au affidavit made by the milliner before Justice P. P. Prindle.- Dt-Z"A wag who had been thrown front his boat into the water in the Juniata river near Hollidaysburg, beseeched his rescuers to "be careful" in hauling him in.- lie WILS so earnest in his beseechings that he was asked of what he was so anxious to "be careful." " Why," said he, "be careful about weting my shirt collar." PAT'S Axswr.n.—The following scene is supposed to have taken place in, a Coart House, not far from our own "Now, Pat rick." said. the judge, "what do you say to the charge—are you guilty or not guilty .?" " Faith, but that's difficult for yer honor to tell, let alone myself—wait till I hear the iri dence." Teacher.—(solemnly.) Can 'any loo' name me an animal of the order edentata— that is a front-toothless animal ? Brighttoy.--(gleefully.) Yes,. sir r I can. My grandma's one r re 2.. An editor received a letter, in which weather was spelt "wethur." lie said it was the worst .spell of weather he had ever seen. [We say "ditto" to that.—D. O. o.] Xle,- A. Mr. Pea has been' indicted for whipping his wife and children: No doubt be thinks it a hard case that a mau can't be allowed to thrash his own Peas. A fellow out west being asked what made him bald, replied, " The girls had pulled his hair out by pulling him into their win dows." te'-"This is what I call capital punish ment," as the boy said, when his mother shut him up in the closet among the pre serves. ft. - ff" Human heads are like hogsheads ; the emptier they are, the louder report they give of themselves. tis-5 — A lady describing an ill-tetupered man, sap:, " Lie never smiles but be reels ashamed of it.' C.% D :If US
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers