TERMS; OF TILE GLOBE, Per annum in advance. Six months Throe 'menthe 60 , .S. feWire to notify a discontinuance at the expiration UM Win iubecilbed roe will be - considered a now engai; 'pens, - TEM; 01 , ADV-ERTISING 1 insertion. 2 do. 3 do. Dour linea or leas, $ 25 $ 37% $ 50 ittn square, (12 lioes,) ...... .... 50 75 2 1 00 r wo squares, 1 00 1 20 00 rkree squares, 1 50 2 25 3 00 Veer three week and loss than then months, 25 coon Are square for each insertion. 3 months. 6 months. 12 months. 3lx Dees or lest, cl. 50 03 00 gs 00 One square, ' 3 00 A.. 5 00 5 00 Two squares 5 00 8 00 10 00- I'hm squares, 7 00 10 00 15 00 Four squitreli,. 9 00 13 00 • "0 00 Half a column,. 12 00 16 00 ...... ....24. 00 10n• column • "0 00 30 0D.... 50 00 Professional and llnsiness Cards not exceeding font lines fOne year, 83 06 . • AdrllitlilitratOrd . and Executors' Notices ' sa 75 Adeorthedments not marked With the number of Meer lions desired, will be continued till forbid and charged sc . .eordlng to these terms. E4e (Otoht. HUNTINGDON, PA. SUNRISE. The Skylark meets the distant blue, That stoops to clasp :a waking world, While flowers fling,up . theircrowns of dew And hues of heaven aro hero unfurled. .Pure as the dim dissolved in air, Like incense rising from the sod, ;Shall he our morning piaiso and prayer, • 'While faith shall wing:our words to God rolls the sun to its decline, • And bo*ls it on the realms afar, "To let the modest glow-worm shine, And man behold[the evening star. IVith wings of flame he sweeps away The stare above so thickly spread, - t'o light the ant with golden ray, And show man where to find his bread Like silver rain the light will fall From rosy morning's torch of flame, Where mailed beetle rolls his ball, And the wise beaver builds his dam. The sun looked from the sky and smiled, And earth awoke with soft of bliss, As wakes the sweet and smiling child, Waked by a mother's morning kiss. ,POr the °lobo An Appeal. MR. EDI±OR :—Past history furnishes .ample evidence of the danger of a union of the eivil and ecclesiasti:ml .departments of human government; but many of the benefits and blessings of life are the results of their harmo nious %corking together. The line of separatioc between the province of benevolence and that:of civil legisla . - tion oscillates with the advancement must have civil laws by which Crcesus may enforce or cant his claims against Lazarus, and we must not have civil authority to compel a citi zen to take tip, and dress the wounds of the traveler who has Men among thieves: but the principle of benevo lence with powerful sanctions forbids Crcesus committing Lazarus to the "tender mercy" of dogs, and sweetly coristraine - the neighbor to take tender care of the stranger who has fallen amongst theivcs. One of the greatest light's of the pre sent age, both in theological and phi losophical•lore, was so deeply impres sed with the danger of the civil en croaching upon the benevolent depart ment, that he advocated the doctrine tliat the poor Fates and levies in Scot land should be expunged from the civil -statute book, and emanate freely from the province of benevolence. Now, WO can conceive of such a Mate of society as would justify the doctrine of the immortal Chalmers, but it is not our high privilege to enjoy it: on the contrary,-`se need the harmo nious interaction of both theSe depart• ments. . Our country has fallen amid thieves, robbers and perjured villains, but it faltere . pilit nor , quailed with ton thouspltlliggers pointed at its heart. struggle has been 'a protracted .and fearful one against the combined „powers of earth and hell; and we may truly say with the . ancient prophet, that bad not God been upon our side we would have fallen under the pow -era of darkness. Never since the his of ancient Israel, has the hand of God been so visible as it has been in -our present struggle for national exis tence. At first our Executive had but -to stamp upon the ground and the lov -ere of human liberty flocked to his :standard by huntlreds of thousands.— `This cruel war has continued over - three years, the power or rebellion is 'still decreasing, the rebels begin to :feel they are in the throes of death, - that they have lost their power, and that their long cherished institution, for. the perpetuation of which they .have deluged our land with blood, is falling to pieces by their own folly, and that slavery shall soon be written with things that are past. But in an ticipation of final triumph, have we done, and are we doing, all that we -should do, to mitigate the suffering of those who have so valiantly stood be tween our peaceful homes,and ruthless rebels who have been struggling for three long years to break down our model goVernment, desolate.our land and roll us back into the dark ages Of • anarchy and ruin. No civil government has done so much for the benefit of their armies as ours has done; but it is obvious that it is not possible for our civil authority to reach all the claims which our sick, wounded and dying soldiers have upon us, and therefore our Sanitary and Christian Commissions have risen out of the province of benevolence, in or der to alleviate those sufferings amongst our soldiers, which could be reached in no other way You search i n va i n for such a pouring out rttlr-?..; Of, wealtb for benevolent purposes.— *itness the millions of money expen . EMI WILLIAM LEWIS, Editor and Proprietor VOL. XX, ded, the benignant and unpaid labors of agents, and listen to the testimony of the sufferers, and you must conclude that our Christian Commission has the seal of one of the strongest evidences of the living power of Christianity.-- We again ask the question, Have we done all that we should do for the ben efit of our suffering soldiers? We have no sympathy for . that coercive agrarianism of radical politicians, which would break down all incent ives to virtuous industry; but we have strong faith in that benevolence which labors to equalize the comforts of our race, beginning at home, and first emongSt those who_ have been our benefactors, where benevolence is only the hand-maid ofJustiee. And where can we look for such , objects of our kind regards if not amongst the thou sands of our sick, wounded and dying soldiers, and those, who are -in cruel captivity. The Christian' Commission has been doing benevolent work on a huger scale than any voluntary institution of the kind to be found upon the pa ges of history ; but we think its means might be greatly enlarged, and its field of usefulness extended. Up to the present time its funds have been in a great measure supplied by the rich whose profusion_has ministered its benevolent labors. All that is now wanted to make the institution the admiration of the world is, to forth such organizations as will appeal to every benevolent heart, collect the widows' mites, and the childrens' pen nies, and give all an easy opportunity of contributing to the comfort of those who-have contributed so freely to se cure our peaceful firesides at such fear ful exptiise,to themselves. And hero, without dictation, it is respectfully suggested, that if each county in the State and in every other State, would get up a proper organization, and con duct it with spirit, the aggregate of such collections would - be immense.— Now, suppose good old _Huntingdon county would set OM example, and try the experiment. Few towns of the same size contain as many profession al men who make an open profession of Christianity. as Huntingdon. Then let there be a county convention called, let there be a large central committee appointed, whose duty it might be to manage the affairs of the association, let there be a sub-committee appointed for each towr ship and borotigh, let them call meetings or see to it that every family be visited, and requested to contribute something for the sot , diem' comfort . . It such action should be taken in every county, and each association become auxiliary to the Christian Commission, the sacrifice made by each individual would be small,. and the comfort communicated would transcend all calculation. Will not some individuals have sufficient courage to call such a meeting, and try the experiment? Every benevolent gift tends to expand the human heart, and renders subsequent acts of kind ness more pleasant, and every mite given might cool a burning fever, or wipe away a widow's tear. WHAT TUT SUN DoEs.—Leaving out of account the eruption of Volcanoes, and the ebb and flow of tho tides, eve ry mechanical action on the earth's surface, every Manifestation of power, organic or inorganic, vital and physi cal, is produced by the sun. His heat keeps - the sea liquid, and the atmos phere a gas, and the storms which agi tate both, are blown by the mechani. cal force of the sun. Ho lifts the riv ers and the glaciers up the mountains, and thus the cataract and the aval anche shoot with an energy derived immediately from him, Thunder and lightning are also his transmitted strength. .EVery fire that burns and every dame that glows dispenses heat, and light which originally belonged to the aun. In these days, unhappily, the news of battle is familiar to us, but every shock and every charge is in ap. plication or misapplication of the me chanical force of the sue. He blows the trumpet, urges the projectile, ho bursts the bomb. And remember this is pot poetry, but rigid mechanical truth. He rears, as have said, the ! whole vegetable world, and through it the animals; the lillies of the field are his workmanship, the vendure of the' meadows, and the cattle upon a thous ! and hills. He urges the blood, he builds the brain. His fleetness is in the doer's foot; he springs in the pan ther; he soars in the eagle; he slides in the snake. lie builds the forest and hews it deWn, the power which raised the trees and wields the axe being ono and the same. The clover sprouts and blossoms and the scythe of the mower swings, by the operation of the same tome. The sun digs the ore lroni the mines; he rolls the iron ; he rivets the plates; he bails the water; he draws the train. He not only grows the cot ton, but, ho spires the-fiber and weaves the web. There is not a hammer rais ed, a wheel turned, a shuttle thrown, that is not raised and thrown by the sun. His energy is poured forth into space, but our world is.a halting place. where his energy is conditioned.—Pro. fes•sor Todd.' " I can't do it, father. Indeed I Can't, "Never say can't, my son. .It isn't a good worth" "But I can't father. And if I can't I can't. I'v:e tried, and tried, and the answer won't come out right "Suppose you try again, Edward," said Mr. Williams, the father of the discouraged boy. "There's no use in it," replied the "What if you go to school to.mor row, without, the correct answer to the sum ?" "I'll be put, down in my class," re turned Edward. Mr. WUliarmi shook his head, and his countenance assumed a grave as pect. There was a silence of a few moments, and the father said: " Let me relate to you a true story, lay son. Thirty years ago, two lads about your age were school compan ions. Both got on well for a time; but as their studies grew difficult, both suffered discouragement, and each said often to his father, as you said to me, 'I can't.' One of - these boys whose name is Charles, had a brighter mind than the other, and could get • through his •t:iyk easio,r4...but, Lis-father- was• very indulgent to him, and, when he complained that his lessons were too hard, and said, can't do this,' and, I can't do that,' ho requested . the teacher not to be so hard with kiln. "But it was different with the father of tbb other boy, named Henry. To every complaint lie anewered, 'don't give it up, my boy I Try again. You can do it—l know you can.' "Thus encouraged, this lad perse vered, and in every ease, overcame the difficulties in his way. Soon, although his mind was not so active as his com panions, he was in advance of him.— When they left the school, which was about, the same time, lie was far the best scholar. Why was this? Ho did not give up because his task was hard; for he had learned this important les• son—that we can do almost anything if we try. 'Well, these two boys grew up to wards manhood, and it become neces• sary for them to enter upon some busi• Deb's. Charles was placed by his fath er in the offico'of a physician; but he did not stay there long. Ho found it difficult in the beginning, to remem ber the names and uses of the various organs of the body, and soon became so much dhiboitraged, that lt;s father thought it best to alter his intention regarding him and put him into 'a mer -ehant's room, instead of continuing him as a student of medicine. Hero Charles remained until he became of ago. Some years afterwards be went into business for himself, and gpt on pretty well for a time; but every young man who enters the world de pendent •upon his own efforts, meets with difficulties that only courage, confidence and perseverance can over come. Ho must never think of 'giving up. Unfortunately for Charles, these virtues did not make a part of his character. When troubles and diffi. culties camo,•he sunk under a feeling of discouragement and he 'gave up' at a time when all that was needed fur final success was a spirit of indomita ble perseverance, that removes all ob stacles. Ho sunk to rise no more.— In giving up the struggle, ho let go his hope in the future—and ore he had reached the prime of life, he found himself shattered in fortune, and without the energy of character neces sary to repair it. "In the same office where Charles was placed, Henry was entered as a student of medicine. At first when he looked into the books of anatomy, and read the names of bones, muscles, nerves, arteries, &c., it seemed to. him that he could never learn these names, much less their various uses in the human body. For a time he gave way to the feeling of discouragement, but then he thought of the many bard tasks he had learned by application, came over his mind, and with the words 'don't give up,' on his tongue, ho would apply with renewed efforts. Little by little he acquired the knowl edge he was seeking. Daily he learn ed sonfotbing, and it was not long be fore lie could look back and mark the steps of his progress. This encouraged him greatly. Soon new and greater difficulties presented themselves; but encouraged by past triumphs, he en countered them in a confident spirit, and came off conqueror. "Thus Henry wont on, 'while Chailes biro up quickly. in the end, the for. mer graduated with honor and then entered upon the practice of the pro fession he had choSon. There was not Much to encourage him at first. Pco., pte do not readily put confidence in a HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 30, 1864. Don't Give it Up, -PERSEVERE.- young physician ; ho had to wait three years before he received enough to support himself, even with the closest economy. Daring this long period, in which the motto`" don't give up " sustained him, he got in debt for arti cles necessary for health and comfort about three huadred dollars. This troubled, but did not dishearten him. "I can and will stMeeed," he often said to him Self. 'Others have met and overcome greater: 'difficulties than mine; why then sheuld Igise up ? "A little whileho persevered, and had the pleasure t - '0 find himself free from debt. Froirrthat time a pros perous way was before hint; though ho had often to fieback on the motto "don't give up.".k.:Many years have passed, and Henry ):4 now Professor of Anatomy in D— r —University." • " Why fiither ! that is you! exclaim ed the listening boy, the interest on his face brightening into pleasure. "Yes, my son," replied Mr. Williams; "I have been giving you my own his tory." "But what became of Charles?" in quired Edward. "Do you know tho Janitor in our college!" said Mr. Williams, "Ycs, Bir." ~~ "ITO it is, WhO, whoa a boy, was my But he gave up at every difficulty. Soo ‘vhei.e lie is now. ile had a good mind, but lacked industry, perseverance, and a will to succeed,— You can do almost anything, my boy, if you try in good earnest. But, if you give up When things are a little hard, you must never expect to rise in the .world--to be useful according to your ability, either for yourself or man i Now try the hard problem apain ; I am sure you will get the right an- 61 , er." "I will try," said Edward confidently, "and I ain sure it will coine oat right next tittle." And so it did. One more earnest trial, and the work, jyvas done. Far happier wiis ho, after this successful effort, than be conld. have been, if, yielding to a feeling of discouragement he bad left the task Unaccomplished. And so all will find it. Diffieulties are permitted to stand in our way that we may overcome them ; and only in overcoming can we expect success and happiness. The mind, like the body, gains strength and maturity by vigor ous exercise. It mast feel and brave, like the oak, the rushing storm, as well as bask, amid gentle breezes, in the warm sunshine. I RIZMInIBER once when Ong young young Man Imi)g - iip in New Ramp shire, they dedicated a ,now bridge, and invited a young lawyer to deliver an oration, Tho lawyer had never yet, after a fort-night's practice, had the honor of being retained, and the opportunity of establishing a reputa tion was admirable. The day came , and with it to the bridge came the multitude and the orator. Ho had made no written preparation, that be ing, he had been told, unlawyer-I Ike— a lawyer being supposed to be capa ble of speaking without notes or no tice any II (Imhof' of; hours, on any sub ject, in a style of thrilling eloquence. So our orator trusted to the occasion He stood out upon the platform , and amid the profound attention of his aud ience commet.ced : "Fellow citizens,— FiVO and-forty years ago, this bridge built by your enterprise, was part and parcel of the howling wilderness !" lle paused a moment, "Yes, fellow citi zens, only five andforty years ago this bridge, where we now stand, was part and-parcel of the howling wilder ness !" HO paused again. [Cries of "good ;" "go on,"] Hero was the rub. " I feel it hardly necessary to re peat that this bridge, fellow citizens, five-and forty years ago, was part and parcel of the howling wilderness, and I conclude by saying that 1 wish that it was part and parcel of it now." UeELE6S YOUNG LADIES.—A cotempo vary thus seriously speaks of that very large class of useless young ladies who glory in being above useful employ. went: "The number of idle, useless girls in all our large cities, seems to be steadily increasing. They lounge or sleep through their mornings, parade the streets during the afternoon, and assemble in frivolous companies of their own and the other sex to pass away their evenings. What a store of unhappiness for themselves and oth• ers are they laying up for the coming time, when rettl duties and high res ponsibilites shall be thoughtlessly as sumed. They are skilled in no do mestic &Ales—nay, they despise them; they have no habit of industry nor taste for the useful. What will they he as wives and mothers ? Alas - for the husbands and children, alas for themselves! - Who can wonder if do 111e6tiC; unhappiness and domegt,ie ruin follows?" i SHERMAN. The Beginning of his Movement—What he did Before he Started—His Pratt. ble Course—The Points open to his Blows—The Character of the Country —His Force and that Opposed to _Ulm . —Chances in Favor of Success. Since the rebel papers have seen fit to , announee to their readers that their War Department had received "start ling news" from Sherman, and at the same time have shown no desire to publish it, and since, according to it dispatch in our telegraphic columns, the rebels have refused of late to ex change papers, public curiosity has a right to be highly aroused, and to wonder where Sherman is, and what ho is doing. There are two theories relative to this mysterious and bold advance. PirSt, that he is marching towards the Atlantic coast with hostile intentions on the rebel prison pens and on the cities of Savannah and Charleston ; and the other is that he is advancing on Mobile. The first is the general Northern theory, because Sherman hinted it darkly in a letter to aWestern Sanitary Commission agent; . because oursn.trering-prisorreive :iec all -in — lffiltifirection; because it would cut the Confederacy in two, and gir dle all that part in which the rebellion throbs with the intensest life—North Carolina and Virginia—and because his officers and men believe he is go ing there. The rebels seem to lean to the latter theory, because the last dates they had from him came from AlabaMa, and because a great fleet of Union transports and war vessels have been coneentrating in the harbor of Mobile. Our readers can judge for themselVes from this brief statement of the -reasons and facts that support the two theories whieb is the most likely—which, if carried out, would be the most advantageous to the Union cause. Mobile is 270, Charleston 230, and Savannah 210 miles from Atlanta in a direct line. To the east of Macon add ono hun dred and seventy miles southeast of Atlanta lies Andersonville, and short distances to the northwest and south east lie other pens in which our sol diers aro murdered by slow tortures. There are no 'topographical difficulties between Atlanta and Mobile, but the country is not half so well adapted for the supply of an advancing army of invaders. There are no topograph ical difficulties between Atlanta and Charleston and Savannah, but the country is fruitful, and an army can live. TL. muyementB Sherman, how ever, point out with sufficient clear ness what his objects may be. After a few strategic . moves, by which ho drew Hood Out of Georgia, and plant ed him oc the shores of the Tennessee, at Florence, Alabama, he suddenly makes a dart at right angles to his former course, and returns to Atlanta, arriving there November 7th—flood having then, and probably having now, four weak corps, under Leo, Chatham and Taylor, amounting in all to about 25,000 men, five thousand cavalry, and about 70 pieces of artil lery. He left the army of the Cum berland, 35,000 strong, under Thomas, to entertain this rebel company, while he hied hint away South, to c.frry out other plans, every day !caving the , army that would have impeded his march miles on miles in his rear. On November oth Sherman had 47,000 men, 10,000 of whom were cavalry.= These he divided into two columns, the first of which he marched along the railroad to Macon. On NoveMber 12th; the Second column Moved to ward Augusta, where it is believed the programme was to unite for further operations. On the 10th the army in camp and the army on the march stretched along the Macon railroad as far down as the Chattaboochie river, which river is crossed by the railroad eight miles I - forth of Atlanta. To the rear-guards were assigned the task of burning everything combustible in the whole con otry from Atlanta to Dalton. This work, wo believe, has been thor oughly done. Every town and hamlet has bocri destroyed; Atlanta is a heap of ashes, and the inhabitants have all been sent to Nashville. They were mostly woinen and children, the men having gone South, either voluntarily or compulsorily. On the night of the 12th the last torch had been applied, and Sherman's axiom was again veri fied-nova resting place for an enemy was lett in his rear. The last train of cars left Atlanta on the morning of the 12th ; the railroad was destroyed to Dalton ; all communication with Sher man ceased, and his subsequent move ments have been involved in utter mystery. Cast loose from all base lines, afloat in the very midst of rebel lion, but with a steady, fearleSs and skilful pilot to guide, our army is even . . • / /'~.• TERNS, $3,50 a year in advance. now, at its work of crushing treason, and building up a restored Union out of the ruins of a diVided and deVasta ted Confederacy. But to return to speculation. The movement seems hazardous, but from Sherman's record, and tho fact that opposition to his march can only be made 'by militia and such reinforce ments as Lou may daro'to send from Richmond, wo naturally conclude that where so much is risked there must be something great, something impor tant to' bo gained. Mobile, in this tsiew, cannot be the place. Its-value Farragut long ago destroyed.'- The capture . of Charleston 'or Savannah will divide the Confederacy, open two of its ports to us, and enable. us to carry on the war with aline of emu munications stretching, not over the land, constantly open to attack, and at all times hard to maintain, but over ti:e• sea, where wo fear no enemy,' where we are supreme. Savannah is the nearest point, and in its fall is na turally included that of Charleston. Like most of the other cities of the South, it is not caple ()Liana-de= ten`ce agfiins`t - aii attack by laud. The country stretches out behind it level and flat, with just enough wood to in= , sure moderato cover to an enemy. Its j defences are very iniperfeet, and engi peering skill can scarcely :improve them. Even if they were of the high est style of art, there are no men to defend them, except they be drawn from Richmond, to its great detriment. But suppose it could be rapidly rein forced, a long Beige would be the re suit, and supplies of sufficient amount cannon be . centred in the city; or if they are, the problem is the same as that offered at Atlanta, and a blew to the single railroad would marvelously diminish the supply of hard tack and bacon. This city lies 18 miles from Fort Pulaski, which is in our hands. The river has been thoroughly oh: - strueted above the fort and below the city l but in case of a siege, Sherman, who has started with thirty days' rtf tions on the hoof, could be supplied by stores landed from our fleet, be tween the fort and the obstructions. Labor no Barrier to Knowledge. "It is difficult," says Bancroft, "for pride to put its ear to the-ground, and listen to the teachings of a lowly huL inanity." The opulent and the educa ted have but little idea of the. great mental achievements of the children of toil, and the labor of those who had to rely upon their oxertiens and dill- Genius is universal, and there are no harriere fencing ono-000tion of -11u. manity from perceptions and intellec tual enjoyments peculiar to another section. There are so many instances of genius in humble life recorded upon the historic page, that the lowly labo rer may read, and thereby be inaited to emulate the examples of those who, froth humble, beginnings and obscure origin, rose to distinction . and emi nence. Many of the finest ancient po• ets were from the ranks of labor and the pcior; and some, not merely from the ranks of servitude, but of slavery, thus precluding the idea of divorcing Literature from Labor. . Efforts have been made to divorce them, by endea voring to render labor disreputable.— The farmer's boy sighs for the time when lie may leave the plow, and the mechanic's son the drudgery of his' father's workshop, and betake himself to the employments which by reason of a false and senselesS pride they es teem more respectable. A writer has truly said :,--"Mipd in deed rules all; the hand could not do without the mind, but neither could the mind without the hand; mind gives the conception and the plan,,but the hand gives to the mind execution and •duriibility • in filet; in our true sense, men could. be neither Literary nor Labor, without both of these in combination. How is it that in the course of these latter ages these two have diminished their respect for each other? The !mail has said to the hand, I have no need of thee,' and the hand has said to the head, have no need of thee.' How is it that these two, who ought to be indisoluble friends, have been thus disunited? It is too true that the world has an idea in its eroch ety bead that work is disgraceful ; that spades, plows and hammers are dishonorable things; that it is inele gant to plead guilty to the crime of soiled hands; but man in order to be a true man, Must be. cured el' this in sanity, and be Convinced that it is more dishonorable to skulk through the world without working, relying upon his wits, which latter often .fail ono in the hour and et the time when . most needed. Mental labor may COM bine nobly with manuallaboe, and in illustration of this, it is neticeable that there have been many men confined to the loom, to the -flail, ithe. hammer, and the shoemaker's bench, whose in tellectual attainments Intro amazed the world; and who, Prom- the various departments they hare so worthily filled, hare added to the stores and treasures of their country's genius and intellectual worth. 'l l .l-IZ I . JOB PRINTIINTWOFPXCE. THE GLOBE- JOB OFPIOB 0., most complete of any In the eeeßiety,f.*4 Oa' ETSBOB tho bloat staple facilities for prOmfitly'etecUtint the beet style, exery vortoty of Job Printing, aueb HAND D - ILLS, •- • • • PROGBAMStES: ' BLANKS, , . • . • kOSTERS, CARDS, CIRCULARS, BALL. TICKETS, LABELS, ,&C., &C., &O NO, 23. CALL AND EXA3LEIF ,10ECIIIV18 Or 7011 X, AT LEWIS' .1300 K, STATIONEItY BittBTo nom' Hovr Courage is Iniia;rte . d. A bold, hopeful man inspires cour ago in many wcaker minds, for there is something in -the human - soul that responds to the call of a noble exam ple. Mr. Wasson says, in the Atlantic Monthly : • A little girl sleeping by her mothei4 side awoke in a severe thunder and, nestling in tOrioV near tck the mother, and shrinking into . the sinajj• est possible space, said, trembling, "Mother, aro you-afraid ?". "No, my deal," ansvered the hidy calmly. • "0, well," said the child, ai;Sluirn ^ g her full proportions, and disPoiipg self for sleep, "if you're not I y m not afraid," and was soon shaintbeiirig• quietly. What volumes of gravest ,human history -in that little incident t. t iso finitely easy are daring, and ;Magiian imity, so easy is transcendent "height of thought and will when eialted.On: 7 Really, when imperial valor and pux:= pose breathe and blow upon out from the lips of a: living follows it may be, that anything new That is not required. Whit anOthni• now thrills, :inspires, transfignres ns by saying, we probably knew . h4fere . ; only dared not let ourselves 'think that we knew it Tho universe, haps, had not a nook so hiddenl,hat therein we could have been solitary enough to whisper that divine augg# 7 tion to our own hearts.. Atli now some childlike Man stands - up ap speakes it to the common in B - ‘ s renest unconelousness of doing auk thing singular. Ile •bas • Said 10, he Eyes! By the help . of Goa then? we, too, by word and deed, wilt utter our souls. MANI A-Poru.--:—Tbere never time hen Mani-a•potu WIIS SO Vrevii. lent among drinkers as now. •Whetfier this is owing to the quality Hof th'eliti• nor, or the quantities hi whieh,it CO rl f3IITICC 4 is that more cases of thislerrible mal- ady have been developed within the last three months than tiuririg•the *n ylons year. The greatly increaiod price of liquors, under the new Inter nal _Revenue law, forbids- the idea that there is more of it drank than befom,• go that it can only 'be through _the add toratiou of the liquor's now in u®e thiti this increased tendency to maid-a , pcitli on the part of intemperate, men can be accounted for. The commonest kind of whisky brings more pei• by the barrel now, than ibe rye sold before the war, and crents . ret-drink - is the ralinvprim: most of our bars, there must be , aiirk ,he _ion to afford dealers in the art, cle anything like the large -prdifil which they are reported . to Make. This admitted, and the increase_ of mani a potu is easily newt tied 'for . ; A strong, healthy man might go" n'foi_ a long time drinking pure liquor i ''ail yet retain his reason, but let hiin* , it with the villainous compounds ;no's +' under the name of liquor, will soon find the "man With tbetiolo3?"- after bun hard and fast. Thd.kii; then, who have been in-the 'habit O t t indulging too freely-, had better 0116 in their career ere it is too'late. *Ad ulterated liquor, such . as is now out in most of our bars, is bat lftilti better than poison, and the Man sest who shuns its use altegetliOr. THE Irish-shopkeeper, who was, late- ly chcatod by an old woman steali . rig,,a jar of whisky, and leaving a jar of iva tor in its place, descrilAd he;r . aglspettit ing a Strange dialect, neither Irish nor English. A punster said, ho had fea. son to complain of the jargon. . When Judge Hale, who - had be6a a Gem swash-buckler in via youtt;,:iftf., in judgment upon one of his fort4oy• boon companions, he took advint...iige of the retirctnent of the jury to sAc the culprit in the, dock Litin4tjr tions touching their , old ~iaseelaio. 'They aro all hanged, my lord,' itirer ed the knave, "ekcePt yOu and itio." Da. 'Mother, where's: Bill P sou, do not let me hoar. you .sayalflf again ; you should say , William?. (Welk mother, where's William 2' : 4 ,111 , 1116 yard feeding the ducks. 'oll,lyety I see him now ; but, m other, what-makes the ducks have such broad Willia:Mit?' , Go to your brother-direalyaduliaki scamp, 01'1'11 box your'ears.'" 'Madame,' said a gentleman. , A . his wife, 'let me tell you,,fnets are ":, stubborn things.' 'Dear me, you . dea,%,. say so,' quoth the lady,. f What it ev ifiqt.„ you must tie!' . - . , . qouN,' said a stingy old hunk tolls' hired man; as he was taking dinoer,‘Ao you know how many pancakes yoxeVe eaten ?' :. 'No.' • :Well, •you're ;oaten fourteen.' 'Well,' said John, 'you count and eat,' BILL HEADS; cer a a ti =-