American IP Volunteer BY JOIN B BRATTON. VOL. 38. factual. For the American Volunteer. TUB LOVER’S ADIEU. Fare (he well, ray heart's fond treasure! Parc thee well my dark>oyed maid I ' ’Tie with pain, and not with pleasure. Thai (be word farewell Is said. . Faro thee well, but not forever, Dearest one think oft of mo; Absence wilt increase tho fervor Of the love 1 bear for thee. Fare tho well, but for awhile, » Only for owhlle farewell I Oft in dreamaril see thee smile. Oft on thee my thoughts shall dwell. Faro thee well,my own true.Joved one! Time can never bredk tho spoil Which thou hast around mo woven, Or this burning passion quell.'- , Faro (ho well, my star ofhftpal • Lon; from thee I will not dwell. Every passing hour I’ll note, Till wo meet acaln-farowell. Carlisle, July 81,1631. From the Louisville Journal. TO AN ABSENT ONE. nr j. a. diriucr. I mi» thee—olt. I min thee, lii our home atclose ofday; ' 1 mm.thee at the morning's hour. In tlio glow of evening's ray; And the hearth seortisdarfc and dreary, With a dreary shy above, Since thy smile lias wandered from mo, With its Joyounnesa and love. I miss tbeo-nh, I miss thee. Where'er, I chance to stray, I miss thee in the hush ofuve When Its shadows dim my way; Fur Iliy presence wove a halo Round my lono and weary hours,' As the spirlt nrt of beauty Weaves a glory round the floweri. I miss Utoo-oh. I miss thee. In the dny and In the night, I in lbs thco in the twilight hour ' When the stars are shining.hrlgM; Where'er I chance to wander, , Where'er I fcliancc to bo. On my heart and on my spirit Steals a burning thought of thee. I miss thco—oh, I miss thfcei tn the shadowy realm of sleep. I miss thee in the night's deep shades, That across my spirit creep; And the silent landofslumher liaih no pleasant dream forme,' . Since I wander ‘mid its shddows, Lonely and afar from thee. I miss tliec-oh. I miss thee, Where'er my footsteps roam.. I miss thee in the world abroad, - In (he quiet ofmir home; And there rests a lonely shadow - On the face of nature now. And o shade of care is stealing On my heart and on my brow. I miss thee—oh,-I miss thee. In my own deep solitude, I miss ihoe In the weary hours That nbovo my spirit brood; ‘ And tn me a'l nature's dreary,. ' At in eclipse the while, Since thou art hero to bless me With the sunshine of illy smile. ~. OOR OWN CONSEQUENCE. We think of our own consequence; our talents; our attainments. We think whut a broach will be made when we die—of the mourners who will goth* cr around us with.broken hearts. Wo think of the solemn, sad procession that will go with ns to (ho tomb; forgetting how seldom it is that tho hearts of any considerable proportion in a funeral procession aro serious and solemn at all, or care anything about the dead. We look al our own affaire and press forward as if the world had no interest ft great that they may not be required to yield to our convenience. . Now, how contrary all this is to truth and reality, it is hardly necessary to attempt to show.. Few will oaro about It when we die; and the world at targe wit! care nothing, and know nothing about if. A very little circle of friends will be afflicted— as a little circle of water is agitated when a drop of rain falls into the ocean. At. the centre of that small circle of frhnd* there will be tome deep emotion, end some tears of genuine grief, will be shed; nt a very little distance, the emotion wilt bo fainter and feebler; at a point but a little more remote (hero will bo none, end sonn, very soon all the agitation there will have died away, as when tho little drops of rain fall Into (ho ocean— . "Tlio gay will laugh. When thou art gonit. the solemn brood of care I’lod on,'and each one as bofuro will alinro His favorite phantom." A few friends will go and bury us; and (hen they will turn away to their own';conccrns, forgetful that wo are steeping in the grave. Affection will rear a atone and plant a few flowers over a grave—but tho hand that reared the atone or planted (ho flowers will soon bo unable to cut the letters deeper as (hoy become obliterated, or to cultivate tho flowers, and in a brief period' (he little hillock will be smoothed down, arid tho stonp will fall and neither friend nor stranger will bo concerned to ask which one of the forgotten millions of tho earth was burled there.— No “ Old Mortality I" will come to out ago in those of. faced words which told our name, and the lime of our birth and death. Every vestige that wo over lived upon the earth will havo vanished away. All the little memorials of our remembrance—the look of hair encased in gold, or the portrait that hung In mir dwelling, will coaeo to have the slightest value to any living being, nor will oven momentary curi osity be excited to know who were (hat hair, or wboio countenance is delineated (hero. “Uo my grassy grave The men of future times win carn|es* tread, Ami read my name upon the sculptured stone: Nor will the sound familiar to their ears Recall my vanished memory." Jteo. Albert Barnet, KEEP TUB SABBATH HOLT. In order to do this, ordinary business and pleasures must bo laid aside, and duty of a strictly, religious nature performed. But this is not all. When wq are taught to •* call the Sabbath a delight,” U is lm. portent for us to possess such a frame of mind as (o exhibit a holy joy whilst wo. are engaged In solemn Mercleo, If we could make tho impression that tho righteous is moro excellent than his neighbor, that *• Qoligioi) never was designed, To malm our pleasures lew," We must be so heavenly-minded, so filled with love to God and Divine things, so under the Influence of gratiu,de and joy, at to convince intelligent obsorv era that wo experience a pleasure which Uio world can neither glvo nor lako away. Much harm may result, both to ourselves and oth ers, by neglecting to remember (he Sabbath day, or by omitting that preparation for'lts Important oxer, cue, by which wo may bo“ in the Spirit on tho Lord’s diy.” If pious parents and tho heads of families produce the impression, by (hoir .appearance and manner, upon ohitdron and others that holy time hangs heavy on their hands, how unhappy tho result. It then, we wish all our families, and oil within the roach of our influence, to love tho Sabbath, to remember to keep U holy; and if wo desire holy time to do, In the high est sense, a blosslng'lo ourselves, Iqt us mingle tho exerciso of tho Sabbath with grateful songs ofpraiso; or tome other manifestations of holy cheerfulness «ml dolight, as to giro to all about us ovidonoo of (ho language of our hearts. ls tho day which (ho Lord has made; wo will rejoice and bo glad.”. "In holy duties lot tlioday In holy ploasurorpn«>awnyl Jlow aivoul o *nldiaili thus to spend. In Imjio of ono that no'or iliatlond." “Wlut blessing oliildrcn nrol" «• H>o porlah clerk when he look the foci for christening (hem. From tbe Baltimore Sun.'' THE OOSDEN MASSACRE, Sentence of Shelton, Taylor and Mnrphey* Ciibstertown, June 25,1851. Yeslcrday having been designated by (he Court as the day on which sentences of death should be .pronounced upon William Shelton, Abraham Tay lor and Nicholas Murphoy, convicted of the murder of William Cosden and family, a great concourse of people assembled at the appointed hour, 12 M., to hear the sentence. Tho prisoners,. having been manacled together, were brought into court and placed in tho dock. Tho Chief Judge (hen, addressing the prisoners in order, inquired what caiiso (hey could show yvhy (he sentence of tho law should not be pronounced upon (hem. To (his Shelton' replied, “ I havo noih ing to say, except that I was. not there, and know nothing about it.” Taylor’s reply was, “1 am as innocent bs (hut boy In (ho bar; tho witnesses Show and Drummond have sworn falsely. There Is not a word of trolh in what,they said, except in the statement of Shaw (hat I took a drink with him at (he spring.” Murphey replied, “I am not gully ; I know neither part nor parcel of the matter,” Judge Champnoys then proceeded to address (ho prisoners as follows: William Shelton, Abraham Taylor and Nicho. lab Murprev —You have oaoh been convicted of murder of the darkest, deepest grade. You have had (he assistance of most able legal defence. Noth ing has been admitted to secure to you every possi ble advantage. Your Counsel have exhausted every effort which untiring industry in preparation of means, and the most ingenious, intelligent and zeal ous employment of them could' suggest. Yot you have each, by-.a separata Jury, selected with the strictest regard to their dispassionate and unproju diced feelings, been convicted, with an unanimity which seems to have been attained immediately on hearing the facts; and which even (he powerful appeals of your Counsel, Renewed on each occasion with Increased earnestness, could not for a moment avert. No voice has since .been hoard to whisper a doubt of the truth., and accuracy of the verdict. Alas I wo may odd, no voice has been heard sug gesting ought to mitigate the enormity of your guilt. The fiendish act has boon marked with feat ures of such peculiar, such unprovoked; such unpar. niched atrocity, as to make ft (ho (homo of remark from one end of this wide spread Union to the other. The records of crime furnish no instance of such wanton disregard of.every feeling which can dis tinguish a human from an Infernal being. . On the morning of tho 27th February last, there ived in the quiet of (heir humble home, a worthy family consisting of William Cosden and his wife, then lately tho mother of an "infant'child; with a staler of each in the morning of y&uth ,* ono In (he pride'and bloom of health and beauty, (he other, languishing on a bed ofsloknessi Tho holiest head of (his family had gone through his daily round of labor and duty, and silting at his fireside, in fancied security, surveyed (he objects of his affection, doubt less revolving new thoughts how (o-morrowa labor should be boat applied to multiply (heir comforts and his own. - That God;ln whom wo all live, and move, and have our being, had granted him life and health, and an honeat heart had given the will to devote them to tho honorable pursuit of the peculiar duties of his station.. In a land of law t where (he lights and the life of (he humblest citizen-are regarded and protected with as sedulous care as those of the most exhahod, bo could feel no harm from (ho op proaoh of lawless outrage;-from personal malignity he hod no cause to dread injury, because with his dying breath he uttered his belief (hat he had not an enemy upon the wide surface of the earth. Surely if peace, domestic peace, a peace which even a demon would hositato to invade, can bo pic tured to the cyo of fancy, it is to be found in such a scone as was to bo witnessed at tho family circle of \Vm. Cosden on (bat evening when, after (ho toils of tho day,.ho sal reclining at his own fireside, with the wife of his bosom busied at the table with her domestic duties, hia infant of throe months in (he cradle beside him, and (ho sitter of his affections playfully amusing herself will* her litllo relative, to make all more cheerful. To (hat scone tho fell spirit of mischief directed your steps oh that fatal evening. Guilotasa and harmless themselves, no member of (hat innocent family had suspected dan ger or used any means to avert it. With a willing obedience to (he call which every morning’s dawn sends from Heaven to man, “ to rise and pursue his labor until night,” his window was unbarred, with no suspicion that a visitor loss welcome than tho light of Heaven would soqk ad mittance there. Poor man I how awfully were all your hopes in ono sad hour blasted—-and forever. The (ale of horror is 100 dark, too black to allow us to find appropriate words to narrate it. Credulity falters at (ho belief of a deed so. damning and so vile. But it is too true. True, that three men, or creatures in human form, could relentlessly, inliu. manly, indiscriminately Inbruo their savage hands in tho blood of this Innocent, this happy and unsus* peeling family. Yos.’lls true that you three men, and men you should not bo termed, if your condition did not in some measure disarm oven just indignation of its feelings, you were capable of this wanton, unpro voked, and most foul tragedy. When you had, by the first fatal aim through Uio window, laid poor Cosden a blooding victim before your eyes, weltering in hie gore, and in agony fast breathing out that Ufo which was the prop and stuff of (he helpless females, and still more helpless infant, did no emo tion of remorse penetrate the dark recesses of those hearts of stone? Did not nature for ono, moment assert lior claim and toll you "that man Is a brother —an unoffending brother? Ono who with the stamp of God’s own imago on his soul, should havo time and moans to prepare that soul for Us never dying destiny?” No, no. It would seem that nature’s laws wore strange, nature's sympathies dead, in your souls. Like tho wild beast of tho doser>, you woro but maddened by the human blood you had caused to flow. Dal let not the ferocious tiger bo dishonored by tho compari son, He yields obedience to (ho instincts and the appetites which have been imprt-iod upon him *e (be law'of his being. You could only reach this depth of depravity by violating the holy will and every commandment of your Maker. I shudder to •pealc of the hellish spirit which urged you to tho rapid succession of heartless, inhumon, revolting crimes, which but befit tho inmates of infernal re. gioni, whoso wicked propensities have boon cultiva ted, and increased from (he beginning of time. The mangled person, of your first victim, mortally per forated by bullets,.and lying half lifeless aC his hearth, was permitted to witness (ho cold blooded slaughter of his sister and hia wife, and then to be come the object of further brutal violence, by slab, bing and stamping. But, if (here be degrees of deep and desperate degradation in (hit scene of more than savage bar. barity, perhaps the last act of this terrific tragedy may be regarded as the climax. A poor, helpless female, with a faoo palo from disease, and doubly pale from terror, lay prostrate on hot- bod. To tho monster who approached her, sho raised her eyes, her hands, and lior prayers imploring that her life miffhl bo spared. Tho untamed savagq of tho ab original forest, with no knowledge of women's claims, or man’s obligations, which all In civilized lifo recognize, obeying only tho Instincts, of hia i untutored noture, yet wars not on foma o helpless i ness. Tho scalp of an Innocent, Inoffensive woman, i murdered in cold blood, when in sickness and fright . imploring mercy, would add no honor to {Mo tion Of a savage, whoso Irodo Is bloody But to you, the pallid face, tho wasted form, the piercing, earn, oil, agonizing cry for moroy—for Ufo—aU were ad dressed in vain. Then—ln her bod--helpless—- feeble—unresisting—a suppliant—appealing In that i God who made woman dependent, and man her protector—you, with souls dead, calloae to every «OUR COUNTRY —MAY IT ALWAYS Bf RIGHT BUTE lOH TOR WRONG ,OUR COUNTRY'* CARLISLE, PA-, THURSDAY, AUGUST 7, 1851. emotion that makes distinction between man end devils—you murdered, butchered Miss Webster. ,It is not to make you more odious to thu comma nity that wcHiave given this recital of your foul deeds. It would probably be a vain effort, were we to attempt to aggravate the universal horror which has been felt. Surely it is with no design to gratify any unkind purpose of ourselves towards yoy. Far, very far from it. Our only object is to use this last occasion we shall ever have, to do you good.. The ways of an Infinite God are truly mysterious, and past finding out. To finite, feeble mortals, It must be so. Why you should be permitted to revel and riot in (he blood of an innocent family is a mystery —why a whole innocent family should, by & mur derer's bond, be hurried from a scene of harmless, happy, domestic enjoy ment, to their dread account at the bar of God, is awfully mysterious; but a greater mystery than all this wo now announce to you. That mystery is, in the rich provision made for tho salvation of even the vilest sinner through (he blood of a crucified Saviour. Wonderful is that scheme!.of divino and infinite wisdom and goodness, which can reconcile (hp claims of mercy. ’TIs to impress on your minds the perfect conviction, that on this mysterious dispensation of mercy, must your hopes rely* From'man's mercy you can have no hopes. The obligations of justice are imperative— alike imperative by human : and divino laws.— We cannot make these consistent with the mer cy which would rescue you from punishment.— To God.oloho this attribute belongs, to bo, exor (cd in a future;.world,.and to disembodied spirits. His-awful fiat here is—" He thatsheddeth man's blood, -by man shall his blood .bo shed.” You cannot wonder nor complain (hat tho whole country has been engaged in searching out tho history of this unpsraioljed outrage. You cannot wonder nor complain that every, effort bos been Used by en of. fended, insulted community, to bring its authors to condign punishment for the bold and daring inroads upon its peace, which threatens danger and death in the midst of fancied security and comfort. You cannot complain of the untiring industry, the high est intellectual devotion, the soul stirring appeals of the counsel who havo prosecuted you, nor of the honest, truthful jurors who convicted you. Aa well might you complain of (ho Omnipotent Ruler of all events; who wills not that (ho murderer shall escape, who has not only ordained that his blood, in just retribution, shall bo shed by man, but generally,, in tho order of Ills providence, so arranges his proceed ings that tho blood-stained criminal shall be deled, ted. You are soon to be separated fromdhU.world and all (( contains—lot no delusive* lii»ring hopo of escape lesson your earnest efforts taßepare for an* other and better world. Abandon klrsuch vain* and in your condition, ruinous expectations. You..are (o betaken from all. which should be dear to your affections. You have, each ono of you, families—two of you children, and both aibkgg these an infant, onoof a few weeks tho other‘a few months old. Tho children you were bound to nour ish and- protect, and to educate them for honest usefulness, as much as you were bound by tho more formal pledge to cherish and. comfort tho mother who boto them. All.tlieso you aro to loavo helpless and unprotected; nay more, you aro to leave them the legaoy of a name steeped in infamy and crime. May it never happen, that white the hot blood they derive from you courses in their veins, excited to redoubled action by some allusion’ to the hated memory of him whom they should have loved, they' may bo tempted to cqtio tho father thalbcg.ai4hfrmT< You ! havo ; "+ro(ifflsi-'de»tjfßilon : 'ani^-dtfnttr'ib'nasr band, parent/ wife and sister.' They sleep their last sleep in the silent tomb; but (he (oar of pity, of regret and sorrow, has embalmed (heir memory. You have in (urn brought death upon yourselves, being husbands, fathers, brothers, sons; for you .fill all these several relations. Alas I no loar of pity or of sorrow will mark your ignominious exit from a world in which tho law regards you as unfit to llvo. Bui carry with you no thought of hatred dr un kindness to those you leave behind. Their only sin is that they have performed their duly. When a thought of unkindnoss would rise up in your minds against & witness, remember that if. you. had. not committed crime, he would not have testified to it. If a harsh feeling should be excited towards the counsel* or the jurors, who have contributed by their voice to bring you to on infamous death, remember (hat your bold defiance of the laws of God, and of your country, loft (hem no option but to deliver you to its awfid penalties ; and lastly, remember (hat we who announce your doom, are but the. ministers of that law to make known Us unrelenting sentence* Our solo object 2s to persuade you to a bettor and safer course. Go before an angry and. offended God. Bow down your heads and your hearts at his footstool. Remember and confess that he has given you life, and breath, and health, and strength, and that you hove employed these, his gifts, in destroy ing your follow man. Think that the mental focal, lies given by his goodness to promote. Ins glory and the happiness of (Ws creatures have been abused to vile and fiendish machinations of rapine and blood. Think of the desolation which you have cruised in that retired household, whore, until polluted by your presence, peace and comfort reigned. Thinkof the dreadful appearance which your affrighted soul is yet to encounter at the bar of infinite justice—-where, before (ho face of Jflim " from wham no secrets are hid/' you are to meet (ho mutilated corpses of those unoffending victims whom you have sent before you, without one moment's time for preparation; but, above all, think of that dark, deep abyss of untold* horror, where you may bo everlastingly consigned to " tho fire (hat is never quenched, and the worm that never dioth.” Let thoughts like those prepare you to adore that wondrous and todooming love which has made provision for the vilest sinner oven for your escape. Shudder on the brink of tho iako of fire, seven limes hotter than tho hoatbd fur nace, and then call loudly, earnestly, on the Lo/d who hath died for sinners. Ccaso not cries day or night; with deep humiliation of sou), agonize, for pardon dhd forgiveness—pray for faith to repent, for fail!) to believe, for faith to bo saved from tho tor* ments of (ho damned spirits who are shut up In everlasting agony and despair, and whoso wailings ccaso not forever. Tho law makes provision for an indulgence, at (he discretion of tho Executive, of not loss than SO days after , this son (once# . Let us beseech you to improve as it is designed.. Ask (ho aid of (ho min* istors of (lie GospePbf Salvation. They will in* struct you in (ho wav of repentance and faith—they will pray for you ana with you; and IT you surren der yourself (o (heir guidance, you may yet have hope of escape from tho second death. Our sentence is that you be taken hence to the jail from which you were brought, and from (hence, at tho lime appointed by the Governor of the Stale, to the place of execution, and there bo banged by the neoK until you bo dead. And may the spirit of (hu ever living God, that once produced light and order out of darknoas and ohoos, movo upon your benighted souls, penetrate Its deep recesses, where darkness and guilt have ruled, and enlighten them to see and to fool the grace which alone can save you from (ho wrath ofan angry God, and place you In the favor of a reconciled Redeemer. During (ho delivery of this deeply solemn and impressive sentence, (ho utmost stillness prevailed throughout the crowded auditory. The feelings of all wore stirred, and each seemed to appreciate tho deeply'thrilling diameter of tho scene. Yet the doomed men, of all present, wore moat unmoved soarooly a sign of emotion oould bo discovered in tho features of either of (horn, and when nt tho eon* elusion of this terriblo corembny, the crowd dia parsed and they word removed Rom , tho dock, no symnton of concern for their terrible condition oould bo observed. The Governor has fixed Friday, tho 15th of August, fur (ho execution of these men. An Irishman upon'seeing a squirrel shot from a tree, said,“faith and bo labors lnal*s a waste of pew* dor, the fall itself, would have killed tho squirrel." The Condemned Forger and his Wife* The forgor had been convicted, and condemned to suffer the. dreadful penally of death. Hia wife, was a sensitive and accomplished lady, although the wife of a felon.', An hour had been appointed fbr the last earthly interview. Pale and trembling the wife with throe, children entered the tomb of a living being, who had been their.only lovo and hope in (his world —he whoso solicitude to insure their happiness was the cause jbf their misery. After an absence, it is natural to ! rush Into the orms of those, wo love; but disgrace and consequent ehamo make strange havoc with the impulses of the heart. “ Do yob forgive me Maria ?” said the husband, keeping aloof from hia wife, as if his touch would bo pollution. \, “ Would that others could as readily forgive !” ro-, plied the agonized wife, sinking on a seat near to her. “ Ah, you mean God! Ah, have you prayed for mo, Maria?. Do you think there is hope forme? Speak I I; have been a great sinner—a wicked sin. nor* Maria* 1 Yet do not tell these, your children what a bad man (heir father was* But whereforcaretbey hero?. Is not my punishment sufficiently heavy without bringing my children to reproach me 7" The jailor reminded the bewildered man that he had expressed a wish to see (hem. , 11 Yes—true!” ho ejaculated, "but I havo been mad and have not recovered my senses. Maria, your husband is mad!” Maria heard him not; she was lying senseless on the floor. The children, aged six and eight, and ten, were crying over her, dunking that her unhappy and evidently distracted father had boon (ho cause of her death. .Doth husband and wife had thousands of questions to ask, and more matter to.communicate, but tho in terview was ended. Several hours elapsed oro the wifo was restored to perfect consciousness; and it was late inJthe evening before hor.husband could be brought lo resume tho prcpara(ioiv*Xor bis fate that awaited him the following morningV. “Shall I not see him once more 7" inquired tho wife as she slow, ly recovered her' recollections. “only once more only one look J” J am now prepared, anjl can com mand my feelings.” This privilege was denied her, as many Interviews rarely answer any purpose but to distract the mind of (he ono whoso business, it is lo forgert the world and ail Its attractions, and to agonize of the other, rfffo statute in need of all tho they possess to sustain (he calamities attendant on a catastrophe so fatal to their worldly prospects. . It was evening before tho wife and her. children could bo convoyed homo; (ho latter,-while at the prison and on their road, asking iholr agonised mo (her a number of questions regarding thek father, every ono of which penetrated the soul and caused her further anguish. It was tho first time'the sub jeet of death had been forced on their attention, and (hey were too young to havo anything but a confused notion of it;; now they had learned that their father was doomed in a.Tow hours lo meet it before (he pub. lie gaze. Id all these cases, the truth is that tho wife ond children of tho offenders are the only par ties really punished. Even tho hanging itself falls with a heavier weight of suffering on the sonsibilties of an attached wifo than it docs on the actual culprit, whose, sense of pain has a termination. Tho wife, tortured with the picture of the scone ofstrangula. (ion on her imagination, in vain, when worn out with distress of mind, seeks repose; the cxcltod and deranged nerves, keep the fancy at work ; she dreams that they haVe laid her dead husband,cold and cteni &Y.-bv dter<4wci. «ndj law.aju;aatt 6 » et being sd. "near.-ono-whose absence o T short time since was her only (rouble. The hours, os the'morning approaches, arc counted; (hen minutes oyj watched. Tho fatal period arrives—tho clock strikes pighl—she sees (ho signal—hears the drop fall—feels (ho jerk—tho sen sntion of choking—and swoons, again to frevivelo to tho consciousness that all is desolation and misery around her. BE FIRM* Let the winds blow, and tho waves of society boat and frown about you, if they will but keep your soul in rectitude, and It wifi ho firm as a rock. Plant yourself upon principle, and bid defiance to misfor tune. If gossip, with her prisoned tongue, meddles with your good name—if her disciples, who infest every (own and hamlet, make you disgrace the bur den of their song, heed them not. It is their broad and their meat to slander. Treat their idle words as you would treat tho hissing of a serpent or the buzzing of many insects. Carry yonrselferecl; and by the serenity of your countenance, and the purity of your life, give (he lie to all who would berate and belittle you. Why bo afraid of man 7 Why cower and (romblo In tho presence of the rich 7 Why Crook the pliant hinges of tlio knee That thrift may follow fawningl Why care For .the frown» of an artificial societyl No, no, friend fear them not, fear them not. Build up ydur character with holy principles; and if your path bo not strown with flowers, lot it be beautiful with the light of divino life; ind you will bo to life world a perennial flower, whose leaves will bo a healing to (he nations, and Us fragrance (ho puna* cea of tho soul. Fluency la Conrers^tlon* Roll an empty barrel down hill, and what a rattling noiso it n\*kcst So with an empty carriage over tho pavements. So also with an* empty head.— When it contains but a few scattering ideas, every body can hoar them rattle. You oan almost sea them, when the folllow who carries such a head passes by you. Have you not such an individual in your mind's oyo? Wo have. His name may bo Dick or Jim, Bill or Joe—but ho is the same every where, ho wags the'same tongue, shoots forth the same ideas. Ho thinks ho is wise, but everybody thinks otherwise; Had hoioal knowledge, he would talk less, and say more. Generally, a man of ster ling talents talks but very little, yet every word tolls. Addison was a person of this description. Ho wap always embarrassed in company. Some of our best living authors—men of genius and talent— boon nptlood for their paucity of words in common?, conversation. Yet men who know scarcely more than twice two makea four, are rattling on words, and pass for persons of some consequence. They utter sentences without moaning, and words that would pozzlo an editor to understand. An incessant talker wo always avoid. In hia presence wq feel about as happy as on tho brow of ■ cataract—only thsro is some sense in tho latter. In an office or store, what Je more trying than a person with the gift of gab 7 what but a straggling musi clan under your window, or a fiddle in your garret ’ To Pabsbrtb Arrc.cs,—Choose those apples thloli have a taste and pleasant flavor; peel, and remove the cores without dividing them, and parboil in soil water. Tho syrup should be made of the apple wa ter, and.three quarters of a pound of fine, whits sugar should be allowed to every pound of apples. 801 l a small quantity of lemon peel and grate in tho syrup. This done, pour (ho syiup, while hot, over the apples —turn (horn carefully while cooking, and merely al* low the syrup to simmer, as bard boiling breaks (he fruit. Remove (hem when tender quite through, and at the expiration of a week repeat the boiling. Preserved in this manner, (bo apple is a most excel lent fruit. What a mysterious thing is a blush, that & single word, a look or a thought, should send (hat inimita* bio carnation over tho cheek! Strange, too, that it is only tho face—the human face—that Is capable of blushing! The hand or foot does not.turn red with modesty or shame, more than tho glove or (ho sock which opvor ill It is tho face that is heaven! There may be traced the intellectual phenomena with con fidence amounting to moral cortanlty. , : At Newport, Florida, a marriage took place on the 20lh uh., between Mr. G., aged 83 years, and Mrs. C., not more than half that ego*; it is, however, to bo observed, that it is the seventh lime she has gone through the interesting ceremony. Three days efter tho happy event, Mr. O, cautioned all persons Rom crediting his wife on his account, as she refused to go and live with him. OB9IS OF THOUGHT. Theory is the guide of practice, and practice Is the life of theory. In divine account, a man know* no more than ho doolh. Profession without practice will but make a man twice-told a child of darkness.. There is no fear of knowing too much* though (hero is great fear in practising too little. The moat' doing man shall be the most knowing man. Good temper is like a sunny dayj it sheds a bright ness ovcr ovcrylhlng. * It is the sfreelner of loiI» and the soother ofdisquieludo. Ho. that bath a good book in his band, but not a lesson of it in his heart or life, Is like bo ass (list car* rielh & rich burden, and feeds upon thistles. Harmless mirth is tho beet cordial against tho coo* sumption of (he spirits; wherefore jesting is not un lawful, if it trespasseth hot in quantity, quality, or season, . The more people do, the more they can do. Ho that does nothing renders himself incapable of doing anything. While we are executing one work, wo arc preparing ourselves to undertake another. AH (hat have obtained for themselves groal and permanent reputation, have won and secured It by patient and persevering labor ; by treating time not ks a* waste land fit only for stubble, but-as a true estate, of which no corner is to bo loft uncultivated. -Women have a much nicer sense of the beautiful, than men. They sire, by far, the safer umplrea in tho matters of propriety and grace. A mere school girl will bo thinking and writing aboutthe beauty of birds and flowers, while her brother-is robbing the nests and destroying the flowers. None of us know what we can live past, till we have proved it. God sends strange strength to car ry as bn from ono great (rial lo the next that is re served'Tor us. Wo live through them—and past (hem. So that to the world they seem over; so that strangers cheerfully observe lo each other, that'* wo seem quite ourselves ” As (he sun doth not wait for prayers and Incanla. lions to bo prevailed upon to rise, but immediately shines'forth and is deceived with universal saluta tions, so neither do you wait for applauses, and shouts, and praises, in order 16 do good ; but be-a voluntary benefactor, and you will be beloved like the sun. Would a man know himself, ho must study his natural temper, his constitutional inclination, and favorite passions; for by these a man’s beat judgment iaensily perverted, and a wrong bias hung upon his mind. These are the Inlets of prodjudioe, the on guarded avenues of the mind, by whicha thousand errors and secret faults find admisaion, without being observed. A Judge Panted* A 'Western Judge or Justice of (he Peace was re centty thus bothered by one of the half wild vagrants of tho t backwoods, who was brought up with an erop. ty whiskey bottle.in hla own personal custody. "So air, you’ro there?” said the Justice. . ” Do you always come as near the truth as that 7” was the reply. • “Silence, sir; whero do you come from?” “You’ll bo smart if 1 keep silence and you find out I" “Don’t be impudent, sir; what is your occupation?” . '* Look heroi Judge, I’ll; tell. you,oho thlngand 1 want !odo ll respectfully.” ' Well sir,”. r ' M You're d— u-J Imppdent yoQraef/V” • “This will nofdo , whero do yoa'oome from sir?’ “This side of sundown.” “ Havo you an occupation 7” “Reckon.” “What is it?” “Dotyou a pinto’whiakoy I can tell whatyour’ais.” “Do you moan lo satisfy me 7” “Certainly,Squire, what*]) you have?” “ It is necessary you should understand (hat order and peace'are necessary in society. Whatever wild freedom you may find in the woods, you are now hero in a community of law, and quiet sabmiesioh will evince wisdom on your part.” “Squire, 1 should like, lo understand you, but you’ro too big for me. Juat say no moro about H, and let’s go and tako a drink.” ”1 never drink.” “What?” “ Never, sir,” : - “You don't 7” “ No, sir, never.” "Sir, I bid you good morning.- I have no desire for any other acquaintance with you. Whooh! I’m coming I” and (ho backwoodsman broke out ofcourt. If. O, Picayune. ttoMC and Women.—lf ever there has been a more touching and eloquent oulogium upon, the charms of home and its dearest treasure, women, than is contained in (he following extract from (ho Christian Inquirer, it has not been our good for tune to meet it. “Our homes—what is (heir corner-stone but the virtue of women? And on what does social well being rest but on our homes? Must we not (race all other blessings of civilized life to the door of our private dwellings? Are not ourhearth stones, guarded by the holy forms of conjugal, filial, and parental lovo, the corner stoneof Church and Slate —more sacred than cither—more necessary than both? Let our temples crumble and our acade mies decay—let every public edifice, our halls of Justice, and our capitals-of State be levelled with the dust—but spare our homes. Man did not In* vent and he cannot improve or abrogate them. A private shelter to cover two hearts Is dearer to each than all the world; high walla to seclude the pro fane eyes of every humanbeing—seclusion enough for children to feel that mother is a peculiar name —this is home and there is the birth place of every ' virtuous Impulse; of every sacred thought. Here the Church and State must come for their origin and support. Oh, spare our homes! The love we experience there gives us our faith in an inti mate goodness: the purity and disinterestedness of home is our foretaste of a better world. In the relations there established and fostered do we find through life the chief solace and joy of existence. What friends, deserve the namo compared with those whom a bright birthrighfc-gavo- us! Our mother is worth a thousand friends—our sister dearer and truer than twenty intimate companions. : We who have played on the same hearth under (he \ light of the same smiles, who date back to the same season of innocence and hope, in whose veins runs the same blood; do we not find that years on- ' ly make more sacred and important the tie that 1 binds us? Coldness may spring up, distance may ! separate, different spheres may divide; but those who can love anything, who continue to love at * ail, roust find that the friends whom God himself gave, are wholly unlike any we may choose for ] ourselves, and that the yearning for these is the J strongest spark in our expiring affection.” Maokbakp Fishing in Boston Harbor,—A fleet of betweop SO and 40 mackerel smacks made their sp. poaraneo off Point Aldorton and Hull, on Thursday. They wore following a school of mackerel which had been working up tho south shore during the past week. Ono vosaet, on Wednesday caught 15 barrels in throe hours. They fish during tho day as well as tho night. Al daylight (ho fishermen commence throwing over (heir bait, which brings tho mackerel to the top of tho water* when they commence fishing, catching os fast as they can swing the lino Into the water and pull U out. Capt. Trower once oatight a barrel in ton minutes with one hook'. •Boston Traveller, An English jury, in a criminal case, is said to have brought In the following verdict:—“Guilty* with some lUile doubts as to whether he Is (he man.*,. tfT 1*0.6 PER ANpi/ A tfAlNTisff liYFflt. That alt that is Bent abroad ftoiti Washington bv letter-writers for the newspapers is not gospel* ana that some of it Is htfrdl'y creditable, is certainly true. Bat one meets ocds&onslly, In the distant newspapers* sketches which, so far from being mete inventions, or even exaggerations of fact* are life-dike pictures of scenes the truthfulness of which will be attested by all who have been placed in* circumstances to observe and remark their leading trails. A letter of (his character now lies before us. However tempted by descriptions of one or two individual cases* the features of which would be immediately recognised by many, we select, as 1 both instructive and interesting, the following ge neral view of a class of oases of which whoever. has lived as long at Washington* as not but have known frequent instances. The caption to this Letter* published originally in the Natchez Courier, is ‘‘Etchings; or a sCrie* ’ of Letters from an American Tourist travelling la the United States addressed to a Southerner at home;” and bears the date Washington. TbefoK lowing .extract is offered lu our readers as a sam ple of it r “If you were ever In ’Washlrtglott not Rtogaftaf the commencement, of an Administration, yftuvili not forget the.army.or armies of office hunters thronged (he avenues, crowded the lobbies* crante/ med the ante-rooms of (he Secretaries of the partments, and literally besieged the President s hie own castle, the White House/* - The scenes in the vestibules and ante-rooms of the Secretaries in these office-seeking times are very rich and very humiliating. For instance,* Mr. John Smith* a man of tine feelings, and a re spectable citizen in hie own town* cornea up to get, if he can, the appointment of a one thousand, del-, )ar. post office. He is backed by **all his friends;” T has letters from Col. Bull, who once shook hands with the President* and from Saul Sykes, £sq., who once rode in the stage with the President’* mother; .from Hon. Peter Parsley, who was ones , a Representative in Congress, and had been pre sented, with fifty others, to his Excellency in the east room at a levee, and reminds him of It.in his letter: and perhaps a letter from Mrs. Brimble,- an ex-Senator’a lady, to the lady of the President. • Armed thus* Mr. John Smith deems himself ir resistible. He expects to carry all before him.—' He alights from the cars in Washington, .and* looks round upon the crowd with a patronizing eye. He orders a hack with an empnasis.. He commands a room ok Gadsby's. He the next day* walks among the big bugs as big a bug as they/. He delivers his letters. . He finds the President’* lady Is out* and gives it to (he porter, He has not 1 been a week in Washington, at three dollars and : a Haifa day at Gadsby’s* before he learns (he late lesson* that in Washington letters of introduction are “matters of course,” and* like everything else tyhlchare “matters of course,” areestesmed worth less. Nobody reads or notices them* They prove nothing. Two words with'an honorable Senator or Representative from the applicant’s part of the country a President or Secretary thinks %iore of than a mail-bag of “tetters of introduction.” The man who goes without one is more likely to sue- , ceed lhan be'who depends on them. I would sooner trust a man who carried his character in hie face ratherifian In his poc-ket. ' ■ Mr. Smith having delivered his tetters, and es pecially that to (he President, goes at the reception hour to the White House to see him. The Presi-' dent usually receives men on business from ten ter one. During these three hours the office eeekdra throng the hall and out chamber to his roemjgtfftch * waiting h\s turn; for it is first come first eetredi— Mr. John Smith having made his way toithe land ing finds It filled with people, like a depot platform waiting for the train. Some of the men pace op and down rapidly at every (urn, casting their eager glances at a shut door, outside of which stands s - servant with his hands filled with cards; for each . visiter as he came np handed his card till the atten* dant holds a pile of fifty, laid in regular order.— Mr. Smith has come too late, he has delayed toba more than usually particular about his toilet, and his card made the that is fifty one men have got to have audience before his turn comes/ But he is yet innocent of this fact; (but he learns It by heart by.and by.) He now bows respectful ly to the waiter, and asks him why he does notan*', nounce him by going In and telling the President he is waiting. - President Is engaged,” an swers the man, rather shortly. .Before Air. Smith' can aay more be is hustled away by seventeen gen tlemen, each anxious to know when his.own turn is coming. They hear, and go pacing up and down again. . What a noise. Full one hundred boots tramping up and down in ceaseless fodt-falls;— Men can’t sit still Watting in suspense. ' They l must keep in motjon. . Mr. Smith thinks he never saw so much walk-, ing. Hardly two gentlemen walked* In pairs.—' Every man seemed to pace up and down alone, and to be shy of his neighbor* Doubtless all were strangers to each other, and felt that (he presence of the rest Interfered with iheii own success and prospects of audience, Mr. Smith thought they - all woro a scowl and had a sheepish look. Aft*?, wailing on hour he begins to feel sheepish himself. He feels it is beneath his dignity to ho dancing . attendance this way—he is a free American I He has seen full a score admitted one by one. It Is fast approaching one o’clock. He sees a man. . about to go in Ms turn, when three members of ‘ Congress appear, and (ho man is gently put back* ’ and the members admitted. “Why is this I” he ! fiercely demands. “Members of Congress always * take precedence of all who go in by card, sir,” an* swered rho attendant. Mr. Smith sighs at this! now obstacle.' His fancy conceive* a continued' 1 procession of M. C’e. calling bn the President.— Mr. Smith goes away at one o’clock, his card lbs . thirty-fourth on the list. “Come again row,” eaya (he patient attendant*. * ' ' : The next day he is at his post with four score more. But it is a committee day, and the Preate" dent Is closeted with detailed committees from (bar Senate or House from ten to one* Not a »ouJ |s admitted by card I After three weeks, Mr. Smith sees (he President to be (ofd “ to leave his paper* and they will be examined." Ho waits Into*’ weeks more In the ante room to get a second inter*' view with the President, to ask him If he has “ex- 1 . amlned his papers.” The President refers him to the proper department, where his papers have tieenti sent, it takes him thirty-three days heel kicking In the Secretary's ante room before he ban get au- 1 dienco of this great man. Five times his bill at' Gadeby’e has been made out and laid upon bis dressing, table. At length, in despair, ha waylays, the Secretary as he is stepping into his carriage* “Oh, ah, Mr. John Smith; True, airt Yes, you? papers have been examined, and they are perfectly satisfactory. But”— “Perfectly satisfactory, sir! lam delighted V* exclaimed Mr. Smith, with exquisite happiness. "But 1 am sorry to havo to soy that tho offiotr you seek is not yooant. It is our determination to retain the present incumbent. Good mornintii Mr. Smith.” Mr. Smith looks after the Secretary’s carriage os it rolls away. His eyes aro dim with tests.--* He thinks of his debts at Gndsby's, hope; of the borrowed money on which be Washington, (o bo paid on nfs return*SStafr? and children J and the next morning Mr. Stnlift# body is found in Goose river i 1 The Coroner’s inquest reported. •*Death bv drowning.** The Recording Angel record*, “Peam by ofl!oe ! aoeklng.**— yof. InitU. NO. 9.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers