TERNS OF THE GLOBE. Per annum in advance Si 50 Six montius 75 Three months 50 A. failure to notify a discontinuance at the expiriationof the term subscribed for will be considered a new engage ment. TERMS OP ADVERTISING. 1 insertion. 2 do. 3 do. • Four lines or less, $ 25 $ 3734 $ 50 One square, (12 lines,) 50 75 1 00 Two squares, 1 00 1 50 2 00 Three squares, 1 50 2 25 3 00 Over three week and less than three months, 25 cents per square for each insertion. ~ 3 months. 6 months. 12 months. Six lines or less, ' $1 50 $3 00 $5 00 One square, 3 00 5 00 7 00 . . Two squares, 5 00 8 00 10 00 Three squares, 7 00 10 00 15 00 Pour squares, 9 00 13 00 20 00 lialf a column, 12 00 16 00 21 00 One column, 20 00 30 00 50 00 • Professional and Business Cards not exceeding four lines one year, $3 00 Administrators' and Executors' Notices,' VI 75 Advertisements not marked with the number of inser tions desired, will be continued till forbid and charged ac tording to these terms. NEW GOODS NEW GOODS ! 1T D, P. GWIN'S CHEAP STORE b. P. GWIN has just returned from Philadelphia with the largest and most beautiful assortment of SPRING AND SUMMER GOODS Ever brought to Huntingdon. Consisting of the most fashionable Dress Goods for Ladies and Gentlemen; Black and Fancy Silks, all Wool Delaines, colors,) Spring De- Mins, Braise Delanes, Braises, all colors ; Debaize, Levella - ClothAlpaca, Plain and Silk Warp, Printed Berages, Bril liants, Plain and Colored Ginghams, Lawns and Prints of every description. Also, a large lot of Dress Trimmings, Fringes, More-An tique Ribbon, Gimps, Buttons, Braids. Crapes, Ribbons, Reed and Brass Hoops, Silk and Linen Handkerchiefs, Neck- Tics ' Stocks, Zepher, French Working Cotton, Linen and Cotton Floss, Tidy Yarn, Ece. Also, the .best and cheapest assortment of Collars and tindersleves in town ; Barred and Plain Jaconet, Mull Mus lin, Swiss, Plain, Figured and dotted Skirts, Belts, Mar sailles for Capes, and a variety of White Goods too numer ous to mention. SPICING SHAWLS, THIBET SHAWLS, MANTILLAS, &c Also, Cloths. Cassimors, Cassinets, E . - Jean, Cot. Drills, Mnslins, Tickings. Nankeen, Table Diapers, 8:e. Also a large lot of Bonnets, Flats, and Hats, at low pri ces. BOOTS and SHOES, the largest and cheapest assortment In town. HARDWARE, QUEENSWARE, BUCKETS, CHURNS, TUBS, BUTTER BOWLS, BROOMS, BRUSHES, &c. CAR PETS and OIL CLOTH. FISH, SALT, SUGAR, COFFEE, TEA, MOLASSES, and all goods usually kept in acountry store. My old etitomers, and as many new ones as can crowd In, arc respectfully requested to call and examine my goods. kar All kinds of Country Produce taken in exchange ; at the Highest Market Prices April 21., ISSS EW STORE !—NEW GOODS ! ! _,N FISHER & DIcHURTRIE having re opened the :11mmorotrrAN, formerly known as " Saxton's," take pleasure in announcing to their many friends, that they have received a new and well selected Stuck of GOODS, which they feel confident will satisfy the demands of the public, and will prove unexceptionable in Style and Quality. The line of Dress Goods embraces Robes A'Quille, in Organdies, Lawns, Percales. Sc.. Chaleys, De rages, Brilliants ; all Wool DeLaines. Cravella, Mohair, Dan ubian, Taniise and Lavelle Cloths, Dellage Lustres, ens, Prints: C high:lms, &c. _ • We have a fine assortment of Summer iihmos, Mantillas, Dress Trimmings, Fringes, Antique's. Ribbons. Mitts, Moves, Gauntlets, Hosiery, Ladies Collars, Handkerehkfs, Buttons, Floss. Sewing Silk. Whalebones for Skirts, Reed Hoops, Brass ditto, Skirt Cord, b.:. Also—Tickings, Osnaburg„ Blenched and_ unbleached 3ruslins, all prices; Colored and White Ca in brics, Barred and Swiss Muslins, Vietoii.i. Lawns, 'Salm Kooks. 'Carleton. and many other articles which comprise She lino of WIIITE and DOMESTIC 0001)8. We have French Cloths, Fancy Cassinters, Satinets. Jeans, Tweeds, Cottonades : Linens, Denims and Blue Drills.. Hats, Caps, and Bonnets, of every variety and Style. Also, a large a.ssortintrit of all kinds of Strait. Goods. A Good Stock of C 4 R C/C ERI ES, if ARDW A RE, QUEENS WARE. BOOTS and SHOES, WOOD and WI LLOW-WA RE, which will be sold Cheap. Wo also deal in PLASTER, FISH, SALT. and all kinds of GRAINS. and possess facilities in this branch of trade unequalled by any. We deliver all packages or parcels of Merchandise free of charge at the Depots of the Broad Top and Pennsylvania Railroads'. COME ONE, COME ALL. and be convinced that. the Me tropolitan is the place to secure fashionable and desirable goods, disposed of at the lowest rates. Aped 14, 18Z)S. F OR EVERYBODY TRY THE NEW STORE, On Hill Street opposite Mlles & Dorris' Office TUB BEST SUGAR and MOLASSES, COFFEE. TEA and CHOCOLATE. FLOUR, FISH, SALT and VINEGAR, CONFECTIONERIES, CIGARS and TOBACCO, SPICES OF THE BEST, AND AI,I, KINDS, ana every other article usually found in a Grocery Store Drugs, Cheinicals, Dye Stuffs, Paints, Irurnishes, Oilj and Spts. Turpentine, Fluid, Alcohol, Glass and Putty, ALSO- BEST WINE and BRANDY for medical purposes. ALL TILE BEST PATENT MEDICINES. and a largo number of articles too numerous to mention. The public generally will please call and examine for themselves and learn our prices. M.'MANIGILL S SMITIL Huntingdon. May 25, 1858. HUNTINGDON HOTEL. The subscriber respectfully announces to his friends and the public generally, that he has leased that old and well established TAVERN STAND, known as the Huntingdon. House, on the corner of Hill and Charles Street. in the Borough of Huntingdon.— He has fitted up the House in such a style as to, render it very comfortable for lodging Strangers and Irav olers. HIS TABLE will always be stored with the best the sea son can afford, to suit the tastes awl appetites of his guests. HIS BA R will always be filled with Choice Ligaon•s, and lIIS STABLE always attended by careful and attentive Ostlers. .4a- He hopes by strict attention to 'business and a spirit of accommodation, to merit and receive a liberal stare of public patronage. May 12, IS6S-13 ATTENTION ALL ! JUST ARRIVED, A SrLENDID STOCK OF BOOTS AND SHOES. FOR LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, MISSFS, BOYS AND CHILDREN. Fur .Men and Boys' Fine Boots, call at WESTBROOK'S Boot and Shoe Store, For Ladies and Misses Gaiters and Shoes, call at WESTBItOOK'S. For Children's Shoes or all kinds, call at \VEST BROOK'S, For Men and Boys' Coarse Boots and Shoes, call at WESTBROOFQS, For Morocco Leather, call at For any thing you want in my line, CALL SOON. Fur Duthie Gaiters at prices from $l.OO t0:F,'2.25, call on LEVI WESTBROOK. Huntingdon, May 5,1558 ALEXANDRIA FOUNDRY .1 The Alexandria Foundry has been bought by It. C. 3IcGILL, and is in blast, e . 11 1 4 C and have all kinds of Castings, Stoves, 31a-* . ; chines, Plows. Kettles, ,te., &e., which he wivirn LEIIIDI will sell at the lowest prices. All kinds • of Country Produce and old Metal taken in exchange fur Castings, at market prices April 7,1558 COUNTRY DEALERS can iV,,..F4;: buy CLOTHING from me in Huntingdon at WHOLES4LE as cheap as they can in the cities, as I have a wholesale store in Philadelphia. Huntingdon, April 14, 1858. IL HOMAN. VARNISH ! VARNISH ! ! ALL KINDS, warranted good, for sale at BROWN'S Hardware Store, Huntingdon, Pa April 2S, 1858-tr. ILADIES, ATTENTION !—My assort ment of beautiful dress goods is now open, and ready or Inspection. Every article of dress you may desire, can be found at my store. D. P. GAIN. ITARDWARE A Large Stock, just received, and for salt) at BRICKER'S "MAMMOTH STORE THE MAMMOTH STORE Is the place for Latest Styles of Ladies' Dress Goods, TYRRICKER'S Mammoth Store is the • place to get the worth of your money, in Dry Goode, ardware, , ,groceries, &c., .r.e., &C. fIANE ISHING RODS—A Superior Article—at LOVE & McDIVITT'S. DOUGLASS & SHERWOOD'S Pat ent Extension Skirts, for sale only by FISHER 84 MatURTRIE. RUILDERS Are requested to call and examine the Hardware, I I GROCERIES, Of the best, always ready for customers, at 1. BRICKER'S 3IAMI , IOTII STORE VOL, XIV, [The circumstances which Induced the writing of the following most touching and thrilling lines are as follows: A young lady of New York was in the habit of writing for the Philadelphia Ledger, on the subject of intemper ance. Her writings were so full of pathos, and evinced such deep emotion of soul, that a friend of hers accused her of being a maniac on the subject of intemperance; whereupon she wrote the following:] Go feel what I have felt, Go bear what I have borne— Sink 'neath a blow a father dealt, And the cold world's proud scorn; Then suffer on from year to year— The side relief, the scorching tear. D. P. GWIN THE BEGGAR.---A TRUE TALE One cold winter morning, the last Sunday of December, ISA a half-naked man timidly knocked at the basement door of a fine sub stantial mansion, in the city of Brooklyn.— Though the weather was bitter, even for the season, the young man had no clothing but a pair of ragged cloth pants, and the remains of a flannel shirt, which exposed his muscu lar chest in many large rents. But in spite of his tattered apparel, and evident fatigue, as he leaned heavily upon the railing of the basement stairs, a critical observer could not fail to notice a conscious air of dignity, and the marked traces of cultivation and refine ment in his pale, haggard countenance. The door was speedily opened, and dis closed a large, comfortably furnished room, with its glowing grate of anthracite; before which was a luxuriously furnished breakfast table—a fashionably attired young man, in a brocade dressing gown and velvet slippers, reclining in a "faaleual," busily reading the morning papers. The beautiful young wife had lingered at the table, giving to the ser vant in waiting orders for the household mat ters of the day, when the timid rap attracted attention. P. ;',Ic.I.ThIER She commanded the door to be opened, but the young master of the mansion replied that it was quite useless, being no ono but some thievish beggar; but the door was al ready open, and the sympathies of Mrs. Hay wood enlisted at once. WESTBROOK'S "Come in to the fire," cried the young wife, impulsively, "before you perish." The mendicant, without exhibiting any surprise at such unusual treatment of a street beggar, slowly entered the room, manifesting a painful weakness at every step. On his entrance, Mr. Haywood, with a displeasing air, gathered up his papers and left the apart ment. The unwise lady placed the half-fro zen man near the fire, while she prepared a bowl of fragrant coffee which, with abundant food, was placed before him. But, noticing the abrupt departure of her husband, Mrs. Haywood, with a clouded countenance left the room, whispering to the servant to remain until the stranger should leave. She then hastily ran up the richly mounted staircase, and passed before the entrance of a small laboratory and medical library, and occupied solely by her husband, who was a physical chemist. She opened the door and entered the room. Mr. Haywood was sitting at a small table with his head resting on his hands, apparently in deep thought. "Edward," said the young wife, gently touching him on his arm, " I fear I have dis pleased you ; but the man looked so wretch ed I could not bear to drive him away," and her-sweet voice trembled as she added, "You ought to know I take the sacrament to-day." "Dear Mary," replied the really fond hus band, "I appreciate your motives. I know it is pure goodness of heart which leads you to disobey me, but still I must insist upon my former command that no beggar shall ever be permitted to enter the house. It is for your safety that I insist upon it. How deeply you might be imposed upon in my frequent absence from home. I shudder to it. C. McGILL WILLIAM LEWIS, c itted A9,,attr.. GO FEEL WHAT I HAVE FELT. Go kneel as I have knelt, Implore, beseech, and pray— Strive the besotted heart to melt, The downward curse to stay; Be dashed with bitter curse aside, Your prayers burlesqued, your tears defied Go weep as I have wept, O'er a loved father's See every promised blessing swept— Youth's sweetness turned to gall; Lire's fading flowers's strewed all the way That brought me up to woman's day. Go see what I have Gem: Behold the strong man bowed, With gnashing teeth, lie bathed in blood, And cold and livid brow; Go catch his withered glance, and see There mirrored his soul's misery. Go to the mother's side, And her crushed bosom cheer; Thine own deep anguish hide, Wipe from her cheek the tear. Mark the worn frame and withered brow, The gray that streaks her dark hair now, With fading form and trembling limb, And trace the ruin back to him Whose blighted faith in early youth, Promised eternal love and truth. lint who, foresworn, bath yielded up That promise to the cursed cup, And led her down, through love and light, And all that made her future bright; And chained her there 'mid want and strife, That lowly thing, a drunkard's wife; And stamped on childhood's brow so mild The withering blight, `• the drunkard's child." Go bear, and see, and feel, and know All that MY SOUL bath felt and known; Then look upon the wine cup's glow, Sec if its beauty can atone; Think if it- flavor you will try, • When all proclaim "'tis drink and die:" Tell me "I nATE: the bowl!" IrtrE is a feeble word; i.o.urnE—ABHOR—MY VERY SOUL WITII STRONG DISGUST IS STIRRD When e'er I see, or hear, or tell, Of the dark beverage of HELL! c iettct cittru. think. The man that is now below may be but a burglar in disguise, and already in your absence .taking impressions in wax of the different key holes in the room, so as to enter some night at his leisure. Your limit ed experience of city life makes it difficult for you to credit•so much depravity. It is no charity to give to the street beggars; it only encourages vice, dearest." "It may be so," responded Mrs. Haywood, but it seemed wicked not to relieve suffering and want, even if the person has behaved badly—and we know it. But I will promise you not to ask another in the house." At this moment the servant rapped vio lently at the door, crying out the beggar was dying. "Come, Edward, skill can save him I know," said the wife, hastening from the room. The doctor did not refuse this appeal to his professional vanity, for he immediately followed his wife's flying footsteps as she descended to the basement. They found the mendicant lying pale and unconscious upon the carpet, where he had slipped in his weak ness from the chair where Mrs. Haywood had seated him. " He is a handsome fellow," muttered the doctor, as he bent over him to ascertain the state of his pulse. And well he might say so. The glossy locks of raven hair had fallen away from a broad, white forehead; his eyelids were bor dered by long raven lashes, which lay like a silken fringe upon his pale bronzed cheeks, while a delicate acquiline nose, and a square massive chin, displayed a model of manly beauty. "Is he dead?" asked the young wife anx iously. "Oh, no, it is only a fainting fit, induced by sudden change of temperature and per haps the first of starvation," replied the doc tor sympathizingly. He had forgotten for the moment his cold maxiums of prudence, and added: "He must be carried to a room without fire, and placed in a comfortable bed." The coachman was called in to assist in lifting the athletic stranger, who was soon carried to a room in the chambers, where the doctor administered with his own hand strong doses of port wine sangaree. The young man soon became partly conscious; but all conversation was forbade him, and he sunk quietly to sleep. "He is doing well—let him rest as long as lie can ; should he awake in our absence, give him beef, tea and toast, ad libitum, said the doctor professionally, as he left the room. In less than an hour afterwards, Dr. Hay wood and his lovely wife entered the gor geous church of "the most Holy- Trinity." Amid the hundreds of fair dames that en tered its portals, dressed with all the taste and magnificence that abundant wealth could procure, not one rivalled in grace and beauty, the orphan bride of the physician. Her tall, graceful figure was robed in violet silk, that only heightened, by contrast, her large azure eyes, bright with the lustre of youthful hap piness : yet there was a touch of "tender pity" in their drooping lids that won the confidence of every beholder. The snowy ermine mantilla., which protected her from the piercing wind, revealed, but could not surpass the delicate purity of her complexion. Many admiring eyes followed the faultless figure of Mrs. Heywood, as she moved with unconscious grace up the central aisle of the church, but not one with more heartfelt de votion than the young, wayward, but gener ous man who had recently wed her, in spite of her poverty and the sneers of his aristo cratic acquaintances. The stately organ had pealed its last rich notes, which were still faintly echoing in the distant arches, when a stranger of venerable aspect, who had previously taken no part in the services of the altar, rose, and an nounced for his text, the oft quoted but seldom applied words of the Apostle : "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for there by some have entertained angels unawares." Dr. Haywood felt his forehead flush pain fully ; it appeared to him for a moment that the preacher must have known of his want of charity towards strangers, and wished to give him a public lesson ; but he soon saw, from the tenor of his remarks, that his own guilty conscience had alone made the appli cation in his particular case. I have not space, nor indeed the power, to give any synopsis of the sermon ; but that it, combined with the incident of the morning, effected a happy revolution in the mind of at least one of its bearers. So much, that on the return of Dr. Haywood from church, he repaired at once to the room of the mendicant, to offer such attentions as he might stand in need of. But the young man seemed to be much re freshed by rest and nutritious food, and com menced gratefully thanking the host for the kind attentions he had received, which, with out doubt, had saved his life. " But I will recompense you well, for, thank God, I am not the beggar that I seem. I was shipwrecked on Friday night on the Ocean Wave, on my return from India.— My name was doubtless among the list of the lost—for I escaped from the waves by a miracle. I attempted to make my way to New York, where I have ample funds in the bank awaiting my orders. I must have per ished from cold and hunger, had it not been for you and your wife's charity. I was re pulsed from every house as an impostor, and could get neither food nor rest. To be an exile from one's native land for ten years, and then, after escaping from the perils of the oceans, to die of hunger in the streets of a Christian city, I felt to be truly a bitter fate." "My name is Arthur Willet," added the stranger. " Why, that is my wife's family name.— She will be doubtless pleased at her agency in your recovery." " Of what State is she a native I" asked Arthur Willet, eagerly. " I married her in the town of 8., where she was born." At this moment Mrs. Haywood entered the room, surprised at the long absence o 1 her husband. -PERSEVERE: HUNTINGDON, PA., AUGUST 4, 188, Arthur Willet gazed at her with a look of the wildest surprise, murmuring : "It cannot be—it cannot be. lam deliri ous to think so." Mrs. Haywood, with little less astonish ment, stood motionless as a statue. " What painful mystery is this?" cried Dr. Ilaywood excitedly, addressing his• wife, who then became conscious of the singularity of her conduct. "Oh, no mystery," she replied, sighing deeply, "only this stranger is the image of my lost brother Arthur." And Mrs. Hay wood, overcome with emotion, turned to leave the room. " Stay one moment," pleaded the stranger, drawing a small mourning ring from his fin ger, and, holding it up, asked if she recog nized that relic. " It is my father's grey hair, and you are lf " His son Arthur Willet, and your broth- MU Mary Willet Haywood fell upon the men dicant's breast, weeping tears of sweetest joy and thanksgiving. Dr. Haywood retired from the room, and left sister and brother alone in that sacred hour of re-union, saying to himself, "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels un awares." "It's a Pity He Drinks." The other day, remarks the Pittsburg. True Press, while standing at the post office cor ner, engaged in conversation with an ac quaintance, a well clad person of gentlemanly appearance, passed by in a state of intoxica tion. We asked his name and were told that it was " Mr. -, a professional gentle man of fine talent, skill and education," but, added our companion, "it's a pity he drinks." We have always looked upon this as a most heartless expression, and one well cal culated to rivet the chains in which the ine briate is bound. "Ile is an excellent mechanic, and capa ble of earning a comfortable living for his interesting family, but it's a pity he drinks ;" the words fall upon the ear of the artizan— despair enters his soul—his shop is aban doned, and the once moderate tippler becomes a confirmed sot. "lie is a business man of superior capacity, and could soon realize a fortune, but it's a pity he drinks ;"—the words sound harshly to the listening merchant, and in the bowl he seeks to drown their recollection. ," He is an accomplished lawyer, and ought to lead _his profession, but it is a pity he drinks." Clients hear the expression and withdraw their patronage—friends look cold ly upon him—his office is forsaken, and in a short time the eloquent advocate becomes an habitual drunkard. "She is a refined and charming woman, but heightens her beauty, and stimulates her conversational powers with the use of wine— what a pity she drinks." The words are conveyed to the ears of the victim•—slander soon does its work, and she who was the de light of her circle, soon fills the grave and feeds the worm. Reader! do you use the expression ? Do you unintentionally aid in destroying the re putation and prosperity of your neighbor? If so, the habit in which you indulge is inju rious to society, and altogether as disgrace ful as habitual indulgence in strong drink. Instead of turning with disgust from the in- ebriate, and exclaiming, " it's a pity he drinks," speak gently to the erring one; take him by the han as a friend—show him the folly of his course, and point out the dower lined path of sobriety and virtue. Thus shall your dreams be sweet—your sleep refreshing, and your mind serene. LAURTER.—Laughter is not altogether a foolish thing. Sometimes there is even wis dom in it. Soloman says there is a time to Laugh, as well as a time to mourn. Man only Laughs—man, the highest organized being ; and hence the definition has been proposed of "man, a laughing animal." Certainly, it de fines him as well as a "cooking animal," a "tool-making animal," a "money-making an imal," a "political animal," or such like.— Laughter very often shows the bright side of a man. It brings out his happier nature, and shows of what sort of stuff he is really made. Somehow we feel as if we never thoroughly know a man until we hear him laugh. We do not feel at home with him till then. We do not mean a mere snigger, but a good, round, hearty laugh. The solemn, sober vis age, like a Sunday's dress tells nothing of the real man. He may be very silly or very profound ; very cross, or very jolly. Let us hear him laugh, and we can decipher him at once, and tell how his heart beats. We are disposed to suspect the man who never laughs. At all events, there is a repulsion about him which we cannot get over. Lavater says : "Shun that man who never laughs, who dis likes music or the glad face of a child."— This is what everybody feels, and none more than children, who are quick at reading char acters ; and their strong instinct rarely de ceives them.—Blackwood. ILL-BREEDING.—There is no greater breach of good manners, or rather, no better evi dence of ill-breeding, than that of interrupt ing another in conversation while speaking, or commencing a remark before another has fully closed. No well bred person ever does it, or continues a conversation long with one that does. The latter will find an interesting conversation often waived, or declined by the former without even suspecting the cause.— It is a criterion which never fails to show the true breeding of the person. A well bred person will not interrupt one who is in all respects greatly his inferior. If with those with whom you are but slightly ac quainted, mark them strictly in this respect, and you will assuredly not be deceived.— However intelligent, fluent, easy, even grace ful a person may appear for a short time, you will find him or her soon prove uninteresting, insipid and coarse. Why is a fashionable lady like a rigid economist ? Because she makes a great bus tle about her waist. We are greatly pleased to perceive indica tions in various quarters, that the fashiona ble do-nothing customs which have been so fatally prevalent for a few years past, are be ginning to be regarded in their true light.— The Carlisle Democrat says that it is a great mistake to suppose that true happiness is to be found in' having nothing to do. To be good and to be happy, the hands, the head, and the heart, must all be employed. Nor is it enough that they be engaged in devising and executing schemes for mere self-aggrandise ment or promotion ; we must take a wider range and look abroad " upon the things of others." "Engagement," says Parley, "is every thing; the more significant, however, our en gagements are, the better; such as the plan ning of laws, institutions, manufactures, charities, improvements, public works ; and the endeavoring, by our interest, address, so licitations, and activity, to carry them into effect, or, upon a similar scale, the procuring of a maintenance and fortune for our families by a course of industry and application to our callings, which forms and gives motion to the common occupations of life • training up a child ; prosecuting a scheme for his es tablishment; making ourselves masters of a language or a science ; improving or manag ing an estate ; and lastly, any engagement which is innocent is better than none ; as the writing of a book, the building of a house, the laying out of a garden, the digging of a fish-pond,—even the raising of a cucumber or a tulip." While the mind is entirely and exclusively occupied with the business before us, we are happy; it matters little what we may be en gaged in. It is when the thoughts have no pleasing channel in which to flow, that dis quietude and unrest take possession of our minds. The great secret of human happiness lies in being constantly employed in prosecu ting some usefie enterprise. Idleness or in activity begets ennui ; that state or condition of mind, above all others, least to be desired. The Wealthy merchant who retires from the active duties of his calling, expecting to enjoy the fruit of his toil and anxiety in the seclu sions of a country residence, without turning his attention to any useful pursuit, must be disappointed. There is nothing in a state of inaction to give rise to those much desired emotions of heart called happiness. One of the first impulses of the child's na ture is, for something to do ; and if parents do not furnish them useful, or at least, inno cent employment, they will seek some other suitable to their own taste. One of the most fatal errors into which parents are likely to fall, is that of leaving their offsprings to choose their own amusement. Thousands are to-day in our prisons and aim -houses, who, had they been properly employed in youth, would have made useful and respectable cit izens. There is nothing so detrimental to the morals of our youth, female as well as male, as the want of proper employment. While the latter resort for amusement to the race course, the card table, and the billiard room, the former sigh for the dance, the social par ty, and the novel—all sources of the worst of evils. Where there exists any social arrange ment, forbidding the young to engage in any useful, physical or mental labor, there is in variably found a deficiency in the scales of morals. Such social regulations exist in al most all wealthy and aristocratic communties; hence we may observe many practices, which if subjected to a scripture test, would be found utterly subversion of the ethics of Christ and his Apostles. To teach the young the sentiment, that it is not "respectable" to work, is to teach them a miserable falsehood, and start them in the highway to ruin. We always felt like pitying young ladies and gen tlemen, who felt ashamed to be found useful ly employed. We instinctively predict for them some had end. Parents should never permit wealth or po sition to prevent them from teaching their offspring some useful art or trade. Their time cannot be employed to greater advantage.— It will tend to fortify them against the total inroads of vice and dissipation, and should they ever be reduced to the necessity of re sorting, for their support to manual labor, they can do so with ease. But, even in the absence of all pecuniary necessity, all should work either with heads or hands. A QUICK QI74IITER.—A boy worked hard all day for a quarter ; he bought apples and took them to town and sold them in Federal street for a dollar. With the dollar he bought a sheep. The' sheep brought him a lamb, and her fleece brought another dollar. With a dollar he bought another sheep. The next spring he had two sheep, two lambs, and a yearling sheep. The fleeces be sold for three dollars, and bought throe more sheep. lie' worked, where he found opportunity, for hay, corn and oats, and pasturing for sheep. lie took the choicest care of them and soon had a flock. Their wool enabled him to buy a pas ture for them, and by the time ho was twenty one, he had a fair start in life, and all from the quarter earned in one day, SEVEN YEAR FLoons.—The Western waters were very high in '36 and '37. Seven years after in '44; and. in seven years again in '5l; and then again in '5B we have a great flood. The superstitious can now exercise their talents upon the magical number 7. The In dians of the West, it is said, held such a tra dition, also, of seven year floods. gEr It is said that ono of the editors of the Lewisburg Chronicle, soon after com mencing to learn the printing business, went to see a preacher's daughter. The next time he attended meeting, he was consider ably astonished at hearing the minister an nounce as his text—"My daughter is griev ously tormented with a devil." HIGH BLOOD.-High blood, like the - finest wine, may be kept so long that it shall entire ly lose its flavor. Hence, the last man of an old family may be like the last bottle of a famous vintage—a thing to talk of, not to use: Editor and Proprietor. Vale of Employment Effect of Old Persona Sleeping with Young. A habit which is considerably prevalent in almost every family, of allowing children to sleep with older persons, has ruined the nervous vitality and physical energy of many a promising child, . Those having dear old friends, whose lives they Would like to per petuate at the sacrifice of their innocent off spring, alone should encourage this evil; but every parent who loves his child, and wishes to preserve to him a sound nervous system, - with which to biaffet successfully the cares; sorrows, and labors of life, must see to it, that his nervous vitality is not absorbed by ' some deceased or aged relative. Children, compared with adults, are &lee; trically in a positive condition. The rapid changes which are going on in their little bodies, abundantly generate and as exten sively work up vital nervo-electric But when, by contact for long nights, with older and negative persons, the vitalizing electricity of their tender organizations is absorbed, they soon pine, grow pale, languid and dull, while their bed companions feel a corresponding invigoration. King David the Psalmist, knew - the effect of this . practice, and when he became old, got certain young persons to sleep with him, that his days might be lengthened. Dr. Hufeland, the German physiologist, attributes the great longevity of schoolmasters to their daily as sociation with young persons. Invalid mothers often prolong their exis tence by daily contact with their children. I once knew a woman who, by weak lungs and mineral doctors, had been prostrated with incurable consumption. Her infant oc cupied the same bed with her almost con stantly, day and night. The mother linger ed for months on the verge of the grave— her demise was hourly expected. Still she lingered on, daily disproving the predictions of her medical attenders. The child, mean while, pined without any apparent disease. Its once fat little cheeks fell away with sin gular rapidity, till every bone in its face was visible. Finally it had imparted to its moth er its last spark of vitality, and simultane ously both died. I saw it recently stated in a newspaper; that a man in Massachusetts had lived forty one days without eating anything, during which period he had been nourished alto gether by a little cold water, and "by the in fluences absorbed by him while daily hold ing the hand of his wife."—Dr. E. P. Foote. NO. 6. "I Have Not Begun to Fight Yet." The above language of the gallant and brave Paul Jones, when the British com mander asked if he had struck his flag and surrendered, are memorable words. Althol his deck was slippery and streaming with the blood of his gallant crew, his ship was on fire, his guns were nearly every one dis mounted, his colors shot away, and his vessel gradually sinking, Paul Jones with an im mortal heroism, continued to fight. "Do you surrender ?" shouted the English captain, desiring to prevent further bloodshed, and seeing the colors of the Bon Homme Richard gone, supposed the American hero wished to surrender. His answer was, "I have not be gun to fight yet?" The scene is thus de- - scribed :—There was a lull in the conflict for an instant, and the boldest held his breath as Paul Jones, covered with blood and black with powder stains, jumped on a broken' gun carriage, waving his sword, exclaimed in the never-to-be-forgotten words, "I have not begun to fight yet !" And the result was the battle changed, and in a few minutes the British ship struck her colors, and sur rendered, and Paul Jones, leaping from the British -vessel a conqueror and a -hero.— What an admirable watchword for the - battle of life, does the above stirring incident give to every man. Reverse may overwhelm for a time, despair may ask hope to strike her' flag, but planting the foot more firmly, bend ing the back more readily to the burdens im posed, straining the muscles to the utmost tension, and bracing the drooping heart, let him who is driven to the wall, exclaim, "I have not begun to fight yet." They ate' words of energy, hope and action. They de serve, they will command success. In the darkest hour let them ring out and forget the past, the years wasted and gone by, and give them as an inaugural address of a new era. When the misfortunes of life gather too closely around, let the battle cry go forth' from the thickest of the conflict, "I have not begun to fight," and you will find your foes flee before the new strength imparted, and yielding the vantage as you press forward in. the battle strife. There is much more intellect in birds than people suppose. An instance of this occur red the other day at a slate quarry belonging: to a friend, from whom we have the narra tive. A thrush not aware of the expansive properties of gunpowder, thought proper to build her nest ou a ridge of the quarry, in the very centre of which they were constant ly blasting the rock. At first she was much discomposed by the frrgments flying in all directions, but still she would not quit her chosen locality. She observed that a bell' rang whenever a train was about to be fired, and that at the notice the workmen retired to safe positions. In a few days, when she heard the bell, she quitted her exposed situa tion and flew down to where the workmen sheltered themselves, dropping close to their feet. There she would remain until the ex plosion had taken place, and then return to . her nest. The workmen observed this and narrated it to their employers, and it was also told to visitors, who naturally expressed a wish to witness so curious a specimen of intellect, but as the rock could not always - be' blasted when visitors came, the bell was rung instead, and for a few days answered the same purpose. The thrush flew down . close to where they stood, but she perceived the change, and it interfered in the process of incubation ; the consequence was, that afterwards when the bell was rung she would peep over the ledge to ascertain if the workmen did retreat, and if they did not, she would remain where she was.—London Literary Journal. xter To cure corns, soak the foot in warm , water for a quarter of an hour every night; after each soaking rub the corn patiently with the finger, using half a dozen drops of sweet oil ; wear around the toe during the day two• thicknesses of buckskin, with a hole in it to receive the corn. Continue this treatment until the corn falls out ; and by wearing. moderately loose shoes it will be months, and even years, before the corn returns, when the sam,e treatment will be efficient in a few days. Paring corns is always dangerous, besides making them take deeper root, SIZE 01' TUE WEST.—lllinois would. make forty such States as Rhode Island, and Min nesota sixty. Missouri is more than half as large as Italy, and larger than. Denmark ; Holland, Belgium and Switzerland. Mis souri and Illinois are larger than England, rreland, Scotland and Wales. The Cunning Thrush.