BY JOHN B. BBATTOH. VOL. 88. poetical. THE WAY TO BB BRAVE. Spoak kindly to the poor old mao, ’ Pick up hia Alien cune. And ptiice it gently hi his hand, - Thai he may walk again. Ilia bundle, tun, replace with care Bunnolh Ills trembling arm j Brave all the taunts that you may hoar To glvn hia lift a charm. A braver deed than aenrnera lioaat Will bo your triumph then, A braver deed than annals toll, Of aoine distinguished men. * ‘ Yea. leave that thoughtless, aneehng crowd; - Boro to bo good mid kind: - - Then let them laugh as lough, they may, Pus on; but never mind. Puss on; but think once more of him ■ The wreck that you have seen, Hnw once a' happy hoy like you ' He sported nn the green ;. A cloudless sky above hia head, • The future bright and fair. And friends all watching o'er his couch, To hruathe affection's prayer. But ah tbo change I .lie wanders now, Forsaken, lone and sad— Thrive blessed Is the task of thnio ' • Who strive to make him glad, Speak kindly to that poor old man. Pick up nU fallen cane. For that will oaeo hie burdened heart. And make him smile again. SHE IS .THINE* She is thine—tho Word is spoken; Hand to hand, and heart to heart 1 Though all other Ilea fire broken,. . Time, these bonds shall never part. Thou bast taken her in gladness, From the altar’s holy shrine— ' Oh, remember in her sadness, -She is tliino, and only Ihino. In sn.falr a temple never, Aught of ill can hope to come, Good will strive, and etfiving ever, Make so pure a shrine its homo! Each the other's lave possess!tig. Say whnl caro shonld clburt that brow 7 Bho will be to thee a blessing, - .And to |i«r a shield bo tnou 1 awtsccuantoujj. STORY OF A DRAMATIST. FROM THB FRENCH OF T. O. DERTMOND. Ono cold morning in February, 1810, a short, stout, commonplace looking man, about sixty-years old, entered the garden ol’an inn situated in the suburbs of Paris. Although the air was sharp and frosty, he seated himself near one of the tables pl.tccd.oul of doors, and taking ofThis hat, passed Ills fingers thru* his long grey hair. . ' His hands contrasted strangely with the remainder of his person; they were small, while, and terminated in such.delicately formed pink nails, as might cxcHo the envy, of marly a yhung lady. Presently, ono of the waiter’s came up, and placed before him a bottle of wine. ' ' “ Not any today, thank you,” said the old man. “1 feel fatigued, and will just rest a moment.” "The host way of resting, monsieur,” replied the waiter, gaily, ”is to drink a good glass of wine.” Ho drew, the cork, and poured out some of tho wine. ' m The old man roso and walked away. The waiter was a young lad : ..and it was with a confuscd.and embarrassed air that ho ran after (ho guest, and said: "S(r, there is a credit for you at the Lion d'Or; if you have forgotten your purse, that’s no reason you should lose your breakfast. To morrow, or when, ever you like, you can usk for your bill.” Tho old man turned, looked at the youth, and a (oar sparkled In his eye. “Thou art right, Joan,” he said; “poverty must nut be proud. 1 accept thy kindness as frankly as it is offered. Help thyself to a glass of wine.” “ I drink to your good health, monsieur,” said the waiter; and having emptied tils glues, ho wont and fetched Rome apioed meal, bread, cheese; fruit ‘and everything necessary for a tempting and nourishing repast; then with native politeness, in order to lessen the painful sense of obligation to his guest, ho said* “ When nett one of your pieces is pluyed, will you give me a ticket?” “Thou shall have two (his very evening, my good lad. I will go and eel them from Burnet, and bring tliem back to.thee. "The walk would be .too much for your strength, monsieur; some other day, when you happen lo pais by, will do ub well.*' ••Tliou ahall have a ticket to.dsy, for (hey are going to perform one of my pieces,‘Lo Descapoir do Joe risßo,* at the Theatre dcs Varieties, und it may amuae “Ah, thank you, monsieur! What laughing I shall have.” ‘ “Yct» the poor old wan, who hut for thy chanty would not have hod a morsel to eat to.day, will cn - lerlain a numerous assembly this evening Tiny will applaud his pleasantry, they will laugh nt hit wit,hut none ofthom will enquire nbouthis dosiiny.” •* But, monsieur, do not your pieces bring you money?" , ‘ “Not now, my' friend. In order to support lll** i during the past monlhi 1 wss obliged to forestall the resource of the present one. are the only ■lender return* from my former productions, for now age and misfortune have robbed mo of my former powers. I no longer offer any vaudevilles lo the managers; for, although Ihov accept them, and pay mo, they never havojhem played. I perceive they only lake them from motives of compassion, and as 0 pretext for giving me aims. Now, my, friend, thou art the first from whom I have accepted charily, and tliou shallbo the last. The son of Louis Qiiinxe may have descended to write in the character ofa buffoon, end os It were to set his wit dancing bn the light ropo oft.vaudeville, but he will not become a beggar, wore ho expiring of hunger. You look as if you thought 1 have toil my senses, but it is hot so. Louis Dor* vigny is the son of s king. My mother, tho young orphan daughter of Count d'Archambaud, died in giving the birth. My father was Louis Quinzo.— During my childhood and youth, an invisible protco. tor watched over mo, and provided amply fur my support and education. Suddenly, the fostering hand waa withdrawn, end.l was bast on tho World to work unaided for my support. I did so until (he moment when the powers of botli body and mind failed me. This is. my history—a royal origin, success, roputs. tion, almost glory; and its end a meal owed to thv charily! Adieu, young man, and thanks; 1 will bring thee the ticket* far tho play." 4 8a the old man departed; but as ho stepped into the.roadj be found Mmsolflntorcoptcd by two or three cavalry regiments returning to their barrack* alter a review. , , , Tho band waa playing a lively air, and in the of his troops ln the place of honor, a general dressed in a magnificent uniform, snd moun* led on a splendid Andalusian chargor. Happening ■a he pissed lo.oisl a glance at Dorvlgny, he uttered a - loud' exclamation of surprise. Without hooding tha, soldiers, hV stopped. Jumped off his. horse, and taking the,old roan by the hand, saluted him wjlh great affection. Dorvlgny stared with astonishment, not recognizing his features. “ You do not know mol Have twenty long years caused Monsieur Dorvlgny to forgot his idle, good for.nothing servsnt boy?" "Jean Dtiboia!" . . „ "Yes, Jean Dubois—Joorisso, ■« you used to oall him. You, ought net lo have forgotten mo, for I ■orvad as,a model of ono of your happiest dramatic creations." w . "What I my poor, boy—monsieur, I mean—thoij art—you are become a great genera) ?" « Prooisely. While In your service I was a terrible destroyer of pistes; now, In llio Emperor's, 1 perform the same office for Ills enemies. How glad lam lo have met you! During the two or three days after my. arrival in Paris, I havtMnllo seek you in every direction, but I could not discover your address. “Because I have no longer an address.” .’ “Then you.must come and lake up your abode al mine.” . “ General 1” - “A general is accustomed to bo obeyed. I arrest, you as my prisoner. Go,*.’ he continued, oddresaing osoldior, “fetch me a carriage and lead my horse home. Now, Monsieur Dorvigny, slop in.” Half laughing, half resisting, the old man took his place in (ho carriage next the General. ,“ Do you remember,*' said the latter,as they drove on, “llio day I 101 l your service, beonuao.aa you told mo you were no longer rich enough to keep aier* vent? I tried-my fortune in several situations, but did not find a master so lenient as you, so as a lust resource enlisted in a regiment. I was jeered by my comrades for my awkwardness, and for many months led an unhappy life Jr—until dno day wo found our* sclvcs.al Bormlo, in the Vahetino, facing a redoubt which opened a muidoroua. fire on our ranks. T|io order Wus given to advance, and we rushed to the attack; but presently most of our men were mowed down, and those who escaped, hesitated and drew back.. I threw myself atone into the redoubt, shout* Ing, * Follow me, boys!* They did so. The Aus. triane, astonished at' this unlocked for attack, fled, end we look twelve pieces ofcannon. The same day I was made a sergeant; and afterwords, by degrees end the fortunes of,war, rose to the rank I now oc cupy. Perhaps I may gel still higher." Dorvigny was installed by the Gcncralin a plea sant apartment.next his own, and for some lime the old man enjoyed all the comforts and luxuries of life. At length his friend received an order 10 'sol out for. Russia. During the first three months of the cam paign, General Dubois sent letters and remittances to his former, master, but they suddenly ceased, and ope morning, from tho column of a newspaper, Dor* vlgny learned that his friend -had fallen at Moscow. Ho was forced to leave his pleasant lodgings and take refugo in an attic in an obscure part of Paris. There, after selling tho coal off his back, overwhelmed with age and illness, ho went to tho proprietor of tho Theatre dcs Varieties, whoso fortune hp -had made, and begged for a small weekly pittance. It was re. fused. The old man smiled bitterly when tho acni tcnco was pronounced, and from that lime, ho shunned meeting acquaintances. Tho bookseller, Burba, who foil •ome frirnHuliin-fop him, ■nimltf. I»tm >«* Vnrinna parts of the city, but In vain. A short time after* wards, Burba happened to hear that in a mean lodg* ing in the Rno Grcnolat, was lying, unclaimed' and unknown, the corpse of an .old man. With a sad presentiment, ho hastened thither. It was, indeed, Dorvigny—dead from cold and hunger, unoared for alike in life and death I The son of a peasant, tho awkward servant hoy, became a General, and after a glorious career, died the deallt of a hero; the son of n king, the charming poet, the bewitching dramatist, lived in poverty, and died the death .of an outcast. Such is life. ItIVBR MFC. Every avocation of life, no matter what it may bo, has its eccentric features—and “characters ” are a|. ways found whoso peculiarities mark them with an especial stamp. Among our river men—whoso lives arc more variegated linn any other—this feature is particularly prominent—for, thrown into all sorts of society, mingling, In friendly communion with all gradcs.of people, from tho pauper to the prince, the witless and tho witty, tho foolish and the wise, the rouglrand the refined, their opportunities to read nal lure inountoinizo above ull that philospnlmra tiuTa written. ■ flliuw us the nnpluin oi a western steamer who cannot assert (ho precise location of a man’s soul by his eye, und see as though ho were but a sheet of glass; and this faculty, which ho has acquired by practical experience, end the instincts of association, enables him to make himself easy anywhere among men, and accommodate himself to the varied notions of a varied people. In fuel, ho is and is not like the cliornolcun—ho is,'so far as his individual intercourse with men goes, in assuming Iheir colors, bul is no/, do far ns the fablcdoxistcnce. on nir Is concerned, ns dial don’t pay the.wood bills. There are some quaint characters on our waters, and (heir anecdotes of river life would.,make an amusing collection—such on one as would be worth the ullcntion of any enterprising collator.' Some of the “yarns” of these quaint old captains out-hood Hood himself; ond contain more of tho material of humor than would furnish texts for a prolific au* thor*e lifetime* There was once a steamboat coming up the Mis. sissippi one dark night, and the captain according to “.Itme-honofcd usages,** was playing cards in the social hall. The mate stepped in— * Captain, out' of wood—not enough left to make llio water hot enough to shave with.* • King the bell,* replied the captain* * Show a light, and scare some up along the shore.*- Tho mate went out, and (ho captain went on with tho game. In a fow moments the mate returned. * Found a boat sir.* The Captain IsfVtho table, and wont out. * (low do you sell your wood 7* shouted lha captain to tho pcoplo at tho yard. ♦ Two and a half.* . • Too much,* said.the captain. ‘However, toko a cord or two, and look further.* A couple of cords wore taken in, the game was resumed in the social hall, and tho boat wont on* A half hour elapsed, when tho mate again appear* cd* • Out of wood, sir.* * Dell and light—my deal.* The orders.were obeyed, ond (he male again an nounecd a wood-yard, The captain went out. • What’s tho price of your wood 7' 1 Two and a half,* ‘Too high, but will tako a couple of cords till we can dnbollor.*' As before, a'couple of cords wore token in, and not twenty minutes elapsed before the nitlo again appeared. • Ring tho bell/ , ‘ .* Dottcr lake more, this time/ • Show a light.* • It’s done sir.’ In a few moments, a wood-yard was again * rung up,* and tho steamer B— went in. • How do vi-u sell .your wood 7* ‘Two and a half.’ • Two and a half bo d—d 7* cried the captain. ‘ Well, captain,’ answered the woodman, ‘ wo will put It to you nt two ond nquarler, ns fAismoA'es the third time you have wooded toith ui to.night .'* Tho captain hod nothing to say;-bul look tho wood, and got quickly out of that stiff current, which the bool woe unable to stem. Tho D—- was so ‘solemnly slow 1 that the captoin himself used In say she must have been intended for a hoarse. She is tho same boat which the newspapers once said made the trip from Now Orleans to Louisville in six days aqd—four weeks.—Cincinnati Commercial . A Bird Seeking lodgings. During tlio cold ilorm of Monday night, at a lalo hour, a small bird knocked for admittance at a win* dow or a hotel which happened to bo illuminated by the light within. The occupant supposing tho noise to be the pattering of hall against the pane, gave It no attention. Presently the rapping commenced again, when tho window was opened and in flow the little oroature, apparently delighted to get Into comfortable quarters, and confident of shelter and safety. After coursing aboul’lho room as Iflo bathe Itself In the warm air, U quietly selected its place, and depositing Us head under its wing, went to sleep. It is difficult to say which of the occupants of the tamo apartment felt better satisfied with them* aelves or alcpl more peacefully through the night.— Ae tho day broke, out broke the bird's grateful ac knowledgements to the protector of us all, In a song, which for so tiny, a body and a stranger, *«■ re markably loud and ecstatic. It was nearly famish* od. and ale and drank with tn enviable appetite for tla breakfast. Using now able to lake care of itself, and nni choosing to ho dependent longer on chanty, the little follow insisted on being released; the win dow was opened and out ho flow, to share his for tune with his tribe, thanking his friend aa well as ho could for bis hospitality.— " OUR COUNTRY—MAY IT ALWAYS DE RIGHT—BUT RIGHT OR WRONG, OUR COUNTRY." CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, JANUARY 29, 1852. ALEOPATHT ti. HOMEPATHY. 1 BY SMITH JONES, JR. My wife, like all excellent housewives, has a pas* sian for doctoring. * In fact, Unless I misjudge her, she ia ralhor pleased than otherwise when I or the children are a little ailing, since it gives her an op* portunily to administer her medicines and watch tho miraculous curca they effect. When we first married she was a devout alio palhlst. Thompnonianism was a popular hobby, at that time; but my wifuescaped the infection, indeed she haled the now school so consistently that once I came near dying of cholera, for she refused lo ad* minister the prescription, because it tasted like Num ber Six. . In those good old days it was a treat lo seoUtr apothecary shop, as 1 called the cupboard, in nut bod clumber, where she kept her medicines. The shelves were eloged up with boxes, full of the. plaster and powders, while rows of phials, of all sizes, and duly labelled, covered , the walls. I often thought, that if I over had to, break, I could begin tho world afresh as an apothecary, with every thing In it. ncces* sory to a complete stock in trade from antimonial wine for tho children to arsenic for the rals. It used lo be, in those times, if I complained of a hoadacho: ‘My door, you are billious : lake.a half a dozen of those pills ; or a dose of calomel. now, with some jolap before you go tq bed, will euro you, depend upon it.* If 1 had hoarseness, she would say: * Flaxseed tea is tho very thing for you.* If tho cold was in my head, it woa: ‘ Take this warm punch to*night,and i’ll cover you up with blankets.* * Bless mo,* she would say,‘your woolen slocking, wrapped around your throat, will pul all lo rights; mother used to soy a woolen stocking was aover* ign for sore throat, especially if it had boon worn about a ,week,’ But tho rise of homeopathy has quite unsettled my good wife’s notions. For a long lime she fought against the innovation: then she grow doubtful about Its being so very bad; then she began to ex* perimont with it; and finally she became a convert, out and out. 1 still cling to the old school myself, for I dislike change, and magnesia especially ogrocs with mo ; besides I like to get the worth of my mon* oy in medicines at in other things. But' ever since her quarrel with our family physician, which I am ■ IniHi ,V >.l*t«, M». J.*** I.** J*.l*r. and splitting the air wide open, with more'smohe knd fire flying then orto come out of a hundred burning mountains. There was a dozen Wagons. Alterin' ay* ter, and to save her tarnol black, smoky noisy neck} she couldn't got clear of Vm, I don't know whether thoy soared her up or no: but hero she corner fdltn* ing at the moluh, with her teeth full of Burnlng/ed coats, and she pitched straight at mo like s thousand o( brick. I couldn't stand it any longer, tu t wheel* cd around and took down' the road, to 1 done that (lion she pul right straight after me; and al every jump I made, she squalled likes thousand wildcats. Sho began to gain on ms comlng up i lilllo hill, but enmo round a pint to 4 straight level an the road. Now, thinks I, I'll give yotf‘gingetv and I’m grant bn.a dead level; so I palled-to it-end got under full speed, and then she begin' tn yell, and stamp, end come on lull chisel, encf made the whole airih shake. But I kept on before, Bounding at the rule of twenty , (bet every jump till fgbtkba turn in ilia ropd, and I was under such headway I couldn't turn, so I turned heels over head,down k bank by a house, landed cosmnliek into ■ swilt bar* rol, nnd my feel stuck out behind and up in (be iff* Just at tho lime the locomotive found 1 h‘sd: fcdl away from it, it commenced spitting hot water Into mo, and just lillerslty spattered It all over mb. 1 tlioughl in my sou) that Mount Vesuvius had burst in some place in the neighborhood. But do you sup* pose I staid there long! No, air 1 I Just walked right through that barrel, and oame out so miiok (hat U really leaked ashamed of itself. Nbw nere'l am, a real double revolving locomotive enolly gtoetef< ready to attack any thing but s combination of than* U«i Mild llglitlllug, tmvkl), water. . AVAIUOB. There le something frlghtful'in this frtsslotv end of all those that altock the heart of man there ia none more io be feared. In Ihe other#, (here la comp appearance of pleaaure and ■alisfaotlon that' attach* ea da (o (hem, but In Ifiia there fs only a crowtf of chagrin*, fear* and disquietudes.' Bacon saysagood thing concerning mlaers, that money Is a good eery tant, but a bad master. It ie well to be economical, but not to excess. My father said that (me phpotd drink hie wine, but ought not to eel his fines, end that wo ihonld avoid resembling (hat lutiarij'Wha, wishing to excel In stinginess, aald that, instead of striking the twonty.four hours, as ia done in,ltaly, Ilia clocka ought to strike twelve, that Ihe workmen might not lose 10 much lime in counting. _ * Habit.—Dr. Simpson, in a sermon at the Cipoin* nali camp ground, gave the following illustration qf the power of habit t 1 was preaching, said ho, and ai I turned my eyes to tlio gallery, I saw a man with one arm bent at if holding a violin, while the other wae InmpUop as if drawing Ihe bow oeroaa It. while Ihe rolling down h|a cheeks. ' Struck a( such a atfango sight, I afionvards Inquired concerning hfo»4—*nd. found that In eirly lire he had been passionately fond of the violin, and so habiluolud to playing appp it had he became, that even now, after a laps* of many years, whenever he fell very happy or joyful, he involuntarily etiumod the altitude and motion df a violin player. lIASTT JUDGMENT.—TItC B*»l lo >vllloh Hsll/jpdg* monl ullen lands, is strikingly illustrated Ip ik* fm* lowing incident. A noble l«dy of 'Florence'lost'ft valuable pearl necklace, and a young girl who tfkU* oa upon her was accused of the than. At) Aral, fhy denied it; but being put lo (he torture, her poweifp of endurance gave way, and alio aeknowfat/getl the lliofk: and, without furllier trial, waa hung. Shortly aAor (he execution a legible thunder sloth) visited Florence, during the prevalence of whlchlhor light ning atruok a figure uf Juatico on a lofty column, and split the head In the scalea, ope of whtohTpll down, and in U whs found the remains of ft m'lffpW* neat, containing the pear! necklace. < ‘ Respects.—Nothing sits bo gracefully. n|»oii children, and nothing tnakea them ao lovely aa habitual reapeol and dutiful -deportment toward* their parentn and euperiorej. it makee the, plajnMl face beautiful,.and glvee to every oopirapn f eollpp b nameless but particular charm. Nature a lUrum-ic-iN.— One of the progressive speeches at the KbsiUth banquet! Jwce delivered by the Rev; E. H. Chapin, ft mlotaler—k Unlversallst, wo bolievo. The following. It. atTe«. tract x A i-- • Nature It « republican—for, sir; what srethsoe new forces* steam and electricity, that havftpl\an*e4 thefaeoof the whole world, ant), jerked . [tcenth century further ahead than ages fere these but powers that are living, and fdfclhglhe ! world on to a noble destiny T Whtl are tliMe'bd: 1 eifaaloue principles, but the Jonlton of the servsnts of common men who liayp beporjie , powerful? Dtaa not the poor‘men *°‘de/‘ ®P? a 1 eirssßchas ceror wilted opoo kings? ■; • .. I 1 . i 9 « UtS' ( T. .-•jiV-saw- NO. 34.'