VOLUNTEER. i
nT I
‘ 8? KvWWiI I!® I wp.-Dpllffii If.paid,within the
■nd , ?wo)lMlw* an 4 fifty Cepta, If not
F/t 'Adhered ib la averyinstanco.-. No subscrip*
W2?«Bdnlii)iw<S uritll'.till ,mo*Wge». aro paid
■ ;;'
““KL O TiseHEHts--'Atcomiidnlca bythooisti,
I Trtdl cicodding oho square, 1 wlllbo Inserted
limes fdr 1 one Dollar,'addtwonty-flro cents
foralcn additional Insertion. Those of a great.
Band-bills, Posting
*.?,? ifcmtohlolB,‘Blaukßi> Labels,’ &c;, &c., exo
tJitcd with accnriry and, at the shortest notlco
■pttflfat
i'he Lonely Heart.
BX lAUAII. SIICKSIT
'jtoy tell mol om.bappy—and
I try;to think’it true ;
: tticy «ay cause to weep,
.•> • ■m My sofrbws aW Bp ibw ;•
- ; That initbc'wUdurnbSs wo tread,
. Mroo Ik* favored lot;
i ify petty griefs all fantasies,
Wodld 1 but hCed (hem not.
it may bo so : thpcupof Jifo
Has many, a better draught*
Which those who drink with pijent lips
Have smiled bn while they quaffed.
K may bo so; I cbnnot,toll
What others haVe to bear,
But sbrry I should be to 'give
Another heart my abate.
"They bid mo, to the festive board,
I go a smiling guest,
Their laughter and their revelry
.Aro tprtato.to.tny breast;
They call for music, and there comes
Some old iamiliar strain:
I dash away the starting tear,
. .Then turn and smile again.
trire Poor Man's Grave.
Dt ELIZA, COOK.
Wo table pall, noVfi'v]t)g' v pliimo,
Wo thousand lof’ph-ligms to Illume—
' ’ No parting glance, hohenvonly tear,
Is seen to fall upon the bier.
i. Thoro .is not one of kindred clay,
. To watch tho coffin uu ha way,
No mortal form, no human breast,
.Cares whore the pauper's dual may rest.
'But one deep mourner follows there,
Whoso.grief outlives the funeral prayer;
' He docs not t>lgh, he does not weep,
But will not lea-o the aodluss henp.
’Tls ho who was the poor man’s mate.
And made him more content with lute—
.. The mongrel dog-that-aUarcd liift cruti,
la all that stands busidc Jils dust.
i; HisnllaiiEDiis
HIE IS DYING.
I The following.ls sublimely beautiful and pa*
(hctic, and'could' been dictated by q
heart that' has 'experienced nil the bitterness
that it therein expressed. , Who the author la,
"wtTlinow not,"but suspect it is an extract from
some.bdok. If any body cuirlread> itlwlthout
moisture in .tjufujyes und stones In Ibq throat,
•• they are worthy„<»f ntarbie. _ *
h| nt-mo.—l|u‘sh! she is dying I The
sun-light streams through) the plute'ghiss win- 1
-slows—the room Is fragrant with the street breath
of the AIr- 1
L ean !|:iiet^—roses.a nightlngulq’-wopld stoop .to
r„ Worship* Cope Jussaiulnfs, and camolios \jritli
•Jillwir targe glossy leaves,-
v 'Through (he open casement steals tiio faint,
'musical tinclo 01, playing fountains f and the
; Jlght, tempered pleasantly by rose curtains of
[embroidered satin, kindles up gorgeous old
[jjwuliug* with a hullo 1 bright, ns,a rainbow. ?It
[is »a If fresher cunshlno wye falling earthward
on the bower of beauty.
The canary sings In his gilded cage—her ca
nary; and thu mocking bird raises his clour notes
higher and hi. her. on thu perfumed air.
Why do you clench your hands until the nails
draw tho rich, rosy blood through the thin qniv
crl ig skin I Why do yon grind your teeth to
gether, and hiss between that one word, hush I
If# a beautiful home. I am sure, and that lady
with her head upon her bosom, is fair as any
dream-vision of the painter.
Surely, nothing could be purer than that |
Inroad, .high’ brow; nothing brighter than those
golden curls.
And she loves you, too! Ah! yes, anyone
.can read |hat. In the deep violul eyes, raised no
tenderly to your own. Ah! that is it: your
young wife loves yon.
She linked to yours tho existence of an an
when she knelt beside you at tho marriage
*ltar and placed her hand in yours. i
For twelve tong golden sunny months an an
gol-has walked or sot by your side, or slept in
your bosom. •
You know It I No mortal woman ever mode
\j*our heart: bow.before n purity so divine!
No earthly embrace ever filled your soul with
the glory beyond tho stars; no earthly .smile
ever sho’no so unchangingly above all noisome
things os your earth-worms call cure and trou
ble. She it an angel, and other angels hare
been singing to her in long days of this pleasant
June time.
«< Hush,” you say, but you can’t shut the an
them note's of heaven from thoaq unsealed cars!
Louder, lighter, swell tho hymns of the seraphs;
brighter grows tho smile on your young wife s
lip*. : , .
.She whispers “dearest I’m almost home, and
rou will come by and.by, and, I«m going to ask
God to bless you!*’ But you cannot hear it—
you tiwftUrtriy,4Uid lhosWg4eurs : guther In tbo
rtlojct OVQB,
..Tow had,held her, there on ypur boiot* nil
4ay—all riighii nroyoiMlrod 1 Out Veil dan t
cloaer-rclosor ydu cUspUio alight, tnlr
figure's you pl-ess your lit»a to the cold
brow—Carrie Is dead ! ,
What la it to you-that tho sunshine is bright;
what that Mi 'Ohecrtnl rays .full *on tho broad
lands—one' InndrMWhat is it—nbw that she
«an walk'Cn thorn hd more 1 Anil.whM. Is dualh
—lier death? F«w (people kflu\r hcf.. no .Tlco
president must bo, choson t(J fill her plucoi’ no
nation will, tfalso, a monument to her memory!
Bui shd’wiu yours i great Gt?d of- ours —your
•HI v, . •
No, yowr»,tvnd God's; yonf.yoar of joy Is over
■nd ■fluxeats nbtV op his bosom id neiiven.,
k gravd’for her. Spring flow-
and the greep grass smiles
wUh dftfsfcM'and;V»pletB. V(Vu,gb there, And
■lghhndpny, and’jbk GodWyontobmsycdme
bom©l' and vs hen hd answer contort, yourproitd
heart’rtstVltp lit,bitterness, anilwlththo bold,
srlelcetl whrds upon your tongue, you pnuse.for
your guardlari Angel looks down frombeaven,
an<r.tfrblii)errtt*-f*llUshl M /:'' >l - \ r I •
11, -I/-., 1 ‘ 'I
Prcdchmiin Wcfni into an
mating hmisolo wartn hiahnndfl.'i'The ptoprlc:.
tor axkcll fiiin what'ho would like U) Ukij.>* 1
♦Ahythirir thptybu pleoao/ was Uwj reply.
‘Wbuld ybu llkd io lake sotUo roast gooose \
woane/ : ■' ‘■*
The! Frenchman made a jjood dmnttykna
was about to 'go. when the eating house koepd*
asked Win Tor Mb pay ment. ! ’
♦WhaPifoM! exclaimed thb Prttoohnian: I,
ha&e called Tor .'nothing. Y6u naked me til'
will t-ko this knd if I will takethut. and I 'my
If 'you please. The landlord, pltaied kith his
address; let'himoftV lloj 'told- a friend -of hie
good (brtnho, who to come , the same
game/but with'Wy din'erent sudeoss, fdr he
■was kicked out of the doors. *Tho first mnh
wa*an original/ said tholkndlord, 'butyotiaro
an iropofitor. < .
CT* If'you wish to get-“teeth Inserted,” go
»od »Ual fruit Ghetto they keep a big bull dog!
PIj ‘ j $•: 'lf i:j'll!’ 3.1) I V, jr!.-
menrau
BY JOHN B. BRATTON.
VOL 42.
KIND IVOBDS.
Kind words cost but little. Any one but a
confirmed cynic ought to be oble to dispense i
them at pleasure. They make nobody the |
poorer. Like the widow’s cruse the slock need i
not be exhausted even by constant using—yea, >
better than the widow’s cruse, the slock in
creases tho mom it is dtawn from the fountain
A t kind heart, which is the only true source of
kind words, is a perennial stream. No win
ter’s cold can freeze it. no summer’s drought
C4n dry it up. Through all seasons it pours
out its life-giving Hood, making glad and green
whatever it- touches, gurgling and eddying
round with inward joy because of its offices of
love. One would think that kind words, dif
fusing gladness, as they do, through the hearts
of both donors and receivers, would be the
common currency in life's intercourse. Even
the employer, who has hundreds at h:s beck
and call, might aflbrd to lay aside his Oriental
majesty, sufficient to Speak to his underlings a
word of recognition: journeymen and appren
tices would not render themselves menials
jeets by putting nfT their reserved rights atti
tude, so as to speak te their employer with
deference and respect: clerks and salesmen
need not consider dumb solemnity or waspish <
rudeness essential to their calling: and last,
but not least, their steamboat
and hotel clerks, and railroad conductors,
might, perhaps, occasionally, without' too
much condescention. afford to give a civil an
swer. We are o great people in this country,
certainly. Everybody is so oppressed with a
consciousness of his inherent dignity, that ha
fears to compromise it by the exercise of com
mon courtesy.
‘•A little word in kindness spoken,
A motion, or a tear.
Has often healed ihe heart that’s broken,
And made a friend sincere.”
k Happy dome.
In a happy home there will be no fault-find* ,
ing.no overbearing spirit—there will be no ( ,
peevishness, no fretfulness. Unkindnesa will ,
not dwell in the heart or be on the tongue. Oh,
the tears, the sighs, the wasnng of life, and
health, and strength, end time —of ell that is ,
most to be desired in a happy home, occasion- *
ed merely by unkind worths. The celebrated
Mr. Wesley, remarked to this effect, namely
that fretting and scolding scemid like tearing
the Utah from the bones, and that «c have no
more right to be guilty of this than we have to I
curse, or swear or steal. In a perfectly happy
home all selfishness will he removed. Even as |
‘•Christ pleased not himself.” so the members
of a happy home will not seek first to please
lliemselvcs, but to please each other.
Cheerfulness is another ingredient io a hap
py home. How much does & sweetness ema
nating from a heart frought with love and
kindness, contribute to render ft hpme happy.
How (attracting, how soothing is that sweet
cheerfulness that is borne on the countenance
of a wife and toother. How the parent and
‘child, the brqther and sister, the mistress and
servant, dwell with delight on those cheerful
looks; those confiding’smitcs that beam from
fponV tfiW Wc‘, and bqrat fropVlhc inmost soul
>brthb?c Who are pear ana dear.' !
TlOw it 'hastcrtd thi/return 1 of the father—
lightens , the ,Chre of the mother—renders it
1 more easy for youth to resist temptation f and.
; drawn by! the cords of offectlon. how it induces
them with living hearts 10 return to the pa
rental roof
6. that parents would lay this subject to
ho*rt, that by untiring efforts they would so
far render home happy, that their children
and domestics shall uol seek for happiness in
forbidden paths.
married Flirts.
One of the worst features of modern fashion*
able society. is a disposition to flirt, existing
among married people of both sexes. The wife
arrays herself in silks and saiin*. loads her fin
gers and ears with jewelry. and rigged in floun
ccs and laces, lavs scige to some poor puppet
arrayed in broadcloth, who has more money
than brains, nod very little of either. On the
other hand, the husband plays off his tricks in
turn, and flirts with ihe reigning belles until
the smell of fresh paml and the exhibitions of
maudlin and puerile nonsense sicken him ofl the
truck.
In some respects this is quite harmless and
beneath notice. Inothers.it becomes highly
important and demands radical and immediate
reform.. Social life has much to do with our
national character and movements. As are the
people so will be the nation as ft matter of
course, and if there is rottenness in «o called
“high society.” it will taint the whole mass.
This is a growing evil. It has increased to
that extent, that half the heroes and heroines in
our popular novels arc representations of this
class. One of the characters jn Fanny Fern’s
lute book is an offender of this sort, and-we
have no doubt she has many prototypes in so
cictv. ,
It is n self evident truth that married people
have no IniKiuess to “flirt.” This uifpKwiUon.
once indulged, the green-eyed monster takes
advantage of open doors, and finds an cosy an
cess. The husband and the wife have, by Ihe
most solemn vows, devoted ihclf lives and their
all to each other’s happiness and.those who ar
ray tlicmselvcs for the popttW rye more than
for those who are I heirs, and.theirs only by the
marriage relation arc traitors.
Another thing. Flirtation carried on by
married, not only destroys the sanctity of wed
ded lhe to a degree, hut is vastly de
structive of common virtue. What roan that
beholds such exhibitions can have the least
faith. In thas love which Ts fabled to exist
around tho family hearthstone.
~This,.ls no trival matter, li Isppo.of t!tc (
rddlehl evils ol* society. Tt lsa fosWr at the
fpuUdatloh of the sftclar unless
d.Htroycd in Its, Inclptetiby/will rpt dpwn’th?
whole system The tflstlngn&dilhg diflofencp
between heathendom ahd civilization ia ,tlio
marrihge relation. Ut niopW how that
relation is affected by false morality and 4 falsu
system ot'livlng.-Ving W(Q.) Nonpr'th
; Wotn.b lUvirnw ReAtmtf.—On Tuesday
Uhl. Mr. John Roe prosecuted the shopmato.,
Robert Lond. for assault and battery. While
(htfcmnnlalnt was ilndtr examination; liiC-Ibl-
colloquy took place between him apd
J thb defendants counsel: .
« '“Did Vou not call my client here, fctid defen
dant, a/oof/’’ ■
‘ J ‘l ; did.” J ' •.
“Why did you; air?”
v i“I decline to answer that question.
; ' “Why do ydil decline to answer it* 1 ” ap J
tkts to tho court to punish you for yonr bqn*
iutiiaoy'.' Top ought’to bo lined Tor contempt;
I'll let yOu know-that you can't call tny client
aTool giring your reasons for it?”
“I don’t* linow that mV reasons have any
tldrtg lO do with the caso.- 111
••I'll let you kdowThcy'have. Nbw. answer
the question."' * • - 1
; “Well,‘if I must. I must.' 1 1 said t thought
ho was a' fool, because hb didn’t know better
than to hire such a chucklehead as you to do;
(end him.” ; 1 ' ! , ,
Tho counsel dropped the witness ana lot the,
question of contempt pass.
“ oan COUNTRY-—MAY JT ALWAYS SB RldQt' OB WRONG, OCR COUNTRY.”
Chtcrtnlntsi.
None of your sour-crout faces that would
turn milk quicker than a thunder clap in Au- i
gust. Wc.iike to see a vissago as bright and t
clear, as a summer morning- None of your I
cold, December, storm lowering, brows, dark J
enough to require lights to see one's way along. I
No elongated, sallow* nail-biting countenances, i
No' moping- and sighing, and whining, and 1
grumbling, as if this world contained nothing 1
worth living for. Sighs and groans and mopes
arc only checks to the wheels of prosperity and
pleasure. Take these away, and the car rolls
along smoothly and rapidly op the railroad of
enjoyment. Then brighten up, look cheerful
and Smiling, drive off the blues, and sing as
mcrily oa the lark.
Cheerfulness give you a good appetite
for your and prevent your being fright
ened by the apparition of ft doctor’s bill. Your
work will* bo done up almost before yjm think
of it. and the hours will ily nearly bis fiat as
you can count them. Everything around will
wear a smiling lace, and the world will meet
you with a thousand charms on every side.
We have seen it stated that a man who
whistles will do more work in an hour than a
grumbler will in a,day.< This is the opinion of
a philosophic mechanic, who says that cheer- j
. fulness is the best paying commodity that can
, be brought into a shop. The birds sing, the
i flowers smile, tho trees clap their hands, the
■ hills rejoice, all nature is cheerful and happy.
Then why should it not be so with men!—
i Cheerfulness is'a ‘•philosopher's alone” thot
i will turn all things tagold. Try It, yegrum
. biers, and see what a cheerful spirit Wi\l do for
you. in the way of health wealth and happi
ness. The way to secure happiness is to be
happy in its pursuit.
No Place Like Home.
A well known literary gentleman in this
country, recently retnrned from a seven years’
travel m Europe has the following eloquent
paa«ago m an article of much discrimination
and merit:
lii our absence we have had an opportuni
ty to see much oflhe past —much of the moql
tring remains of other and distant clinics—
uch of old castle ruins, of walled cities, of
[ fortified towns —much bearing the footprints of I
) the ancient Romans, of the earlier Britons, and ,
I latter Saxons—much of ancient excellence *n 1
I the line and ornamental arts, in painting, in I
i sculpture, in architecture —old cathedrals, j
1 castles and towers--much of the matchless'skill I
and genius of the masonic craft in ages living |
only in the record of history, or the mists of I
tradition. And we have seen much of the
present, much to excite our wonder, to gratify i
our tastes, to enlist our sympathies--much to j
admire, much to deplore-—much to mark the
progress of civilization, of Christianity, of re-!
fiUemehl—and alas! much also, to mnr the
beauty of the whole. We have seen tho mas*
sivo strength of England—twandered thro’ her
overgrown cities, her green fields and fairy
parks, her halls of fidencih of arli of learning (
—have seen her nobility and her beggdrs—hhr 1
Wealth, tind . her ‘aoverty —her of
strep gUiAibl hLT.evifivncM.tif ilecb^J" Wehavb
seen lroland jn htr native richness and her so
cial misery: Wales id her tidy industry and
picturesque scenery? Scotland in her momJiiy
and thrift: France in oil her, beauty, and lux
ury. and gilded licentiousness. We have .seen
, much of the organization and social condition
of European society: of .different forms of gov
ernment: of the achievements of modern art
and Science, and learning, and skill: much of
the beauty and grandeur of nature: of rivers
and lakes, and hills and valleys, made classical
by historical association, or the magic charms
of romance, much of Alpine scenery, of lofty
mountains, with their crests covered withe
leninl snows, mid buried among the.floating
clouds of heaven. We have seen all this, and
more—more than at a single sitting we can call
to remembrance, or. have space to name: and,
we havo comeback to our own native r land,
thankful that we live in a free land, and that
onr lives were cast in no other, and ih the Ann
conviction, that in no country under the broad
canopy of heaven, have the whole people so
much to thank God for as the people of these
United Stales."
Jews Witne- sing for Christ
The Christian world has been scandalized
within a few years by the bold attempts of cul
tivated skeptics, hko Francis Newman, to iln
peach the |K?rfeqtion of the Saviour's character.
One must pity the moral obtusencss of such
mcni who seem overtaken by judicious blind
ness.-so that while the light shineth itf dark
ness. the darkness comprehends it not. In
contrast with such moral debasement. It is
cheering to note how Jewish prejudices hre
gradually abating, and candid and honorable
Jews are admitting the moral sublimity of the
Saviour’s life. The laic Dr. Noab, of New
York, gave the following testimony :
•• Jesus preached at all limes, and in all
places, m and out of the temple, with an elo
quence such as no mortal has since posspssod.
ft has, been said, with some commendation
I bn what has been called my liberality, tna't I
I did not in a former discourse term Jesus of I
Nazareth an imposter: I. hare never considered i
him as such; the imposter generally aims at 1
temporal power, and attempts to subsidise the I
sick and weak believer, and draws around tym
persons of inlluenco whom he can con: rol. Je
sus was fret? t’rom fanutucism: his was a quiet
tmbdudng. rollring faith. Uo mingled with
the poor, communvd.with the Wretched, avoid
ed tlio rich, and rebuked the vain glorious. In
dm calm of the evening, he sought slul cr in
llw included grpvps of the Olivet, or, wandered
pensively oil the shores of Oahleo. He sincere
ly belleVcd his mission; coUrftd no one. Ildllcr
ed no one: pointed and severe in his denuncia
tions,.he whs calm and subdued in his religion. ,
■Thesq arc not, thp of, an jmpOs-.
ter’ but, admitting tha 1 ’ Wgiyc u dilfren! »h*
tcrproi ation to' Ids mlssltoi. when one hundred
ami tlfty millions believe in, Ips.dlyimiy, ami
w’b bco around ,ns abundant evidence of tlm ;
Happiikfw; gobd 'faith. diSVd government. Anj
liberal feelings whioh'sprlhg from Ills religion;
What right has any otic to call him an impos- 1
t CT?_that religion is calculated to inakq
'mankind happy, cannot be a false olie.* ,
Dr. Raphcal, the elegant scholar and tlo
quent Rabbi, speaks in a similar strain :
'■ '•lf you are desirous hf knowing the opinion
of a Jew, sayj ofa teacher in Israel, respecting
the against apd the condemnation
of the Master from Nazareth. I do not hyaitato
to tell yqn that I, do not by any means Tccil
bound to"ldentify myself, orniy brethmi jm;
faith; tvlih, these proceedings, or to, upiibla that,
cortdenitifttioti: I. ns a, Jew. do say that it ap
pears to bio; Jeans bednrno the ripilm ol fanat
icism combined with jealousy and luslofpnw
cr In Jewish lieirahiihs. even. oß.jn laid-agg.
Hubs and Jerome of Prague. Latimer and Itjdj
lev, became the victims of fanaticism combined
with Jealousy and lust of potvtjr in Ohrlatjan
hierarch: and while d ‘and the Jcws. of the
oresent day protest against Jesus of Natartth,
wo are far from reviling his character or derid
ing hid precepts, which t« for the most phrt
, those of Moses and the prophets.’’ .
CARLISLE, PA.,'-THURSDAY,. FEBRUARY 1, 1856.
lift: at West Point
. Tho cadet sleeps iti the: barracks in a room
with pne other; at; half post fiva io the winter
the reveille dwakensnini; hcjifamediatcly d
rises. doubles' ap his blanket ana matreds; and
places thetmbn the hcad of his Iron bedstead,
ho studies untili»Cvcn [O’clouk;,at that, hour
the drum beats for breakfast, and tho cadets
fall into rank and. proceed,to the rricssliall.—-
Twenty minutes is - ' the usual time' Bpeht at
breakfast. Guard’mountingt f UikcB place at
half past seven, and 24 men on guard
every day. At eight .©’.clock .the bugle again
sounds, the professors dismiss their respective
stations, the cadets 'foiw tank’s opposite tho
barracks, and march tbMitiner'. Between 11
and I o’clock a part of the carets arc occupied
in riding, and others in fencing, daily. After
dinner they have .until two Vclpcb for recrea
tion. and from 2 to 4 6’cloCkHhe bugle sounds
and they go cither to battallioip or light artil
lery drill* - ~ 7
This exercise lasts an hour-and a half. Alter
that they devote ,the pame lime to recreation
until parade, which takes, at sunset.—
After parade, they'form into, rank in front of
the barracks, and the battles of the delinquents
arc read by oh officer of .thoi cadets. Supper
cornea next; ond. after.supper.recreation iill,B
o’clock, when the bugle call to quar
ters, apd every cadet muBt' f ‘V« found in his
room, within a 'few riiimilfia. ‘at study, and
must remain there thOs’employed until half
past nine. At half past nine the bugle sounds
—this is called rtalppt jmd.ftilcn the drum
taps,, and at tpn cyefy cadet must be in bed
having his light extinguishfed, 2nd must irmam
there till morning. . If. touring the night, the
cadet is found to be absent his room more
than thirty minutes and does-pol give a satis
factory account of’hirnsell,,charges are prefer
red against him, and ftoia cbifrt martialed.
The use of intoxicating diipk and tobacco
I is strongly repudiated ' sp areiplaying at chess
wearing whisker*, andt a. ( gyfiat many other
things. The punishment to tvlitch the cadets
•are liable, are privnlibh of fcCl'cation, fee. . ex
tra hours of duty, repninaiidrf, arrests, contine
menl to his room or lent; confinement m pris
on. coufinenienl in dark prison, dismission witli
the privilege of resigning, and public dismis
sion. ' " J ' v .‘
When a man's life la heroic, and his name
has passed inlo history, the world wants to
know him personally, intimately. The 'grave
and reverend chronicler,’* passing over his be
ginnings. presents him abruptly in his fall- ;
grown greatness : men render the admiration
earned, but the sympathetic emulation awak- i
ened Is concerned to know how he grew into i
his maturity of excellence. This curiosity is I
not an .idleness of. the fancy, but a personal in-1
terest in the facts that springs out of those as- {
piralions which putevery man upon the fulfill-'
ment of his own destiny. How came this i
name to cxcoU—what was in him—what hap-,
poned to develops it? “Some men aro born,
great : ,some achieve greatness; some have 1
greatness thrust upon them.” How came this I
man by it ? Is it within my reach also 1 and, |
by ; what means? History provokes us with]
such queries as these ; Biography answers
(hart.
Doctor Elisha Rent Kane is not quite tbir*
ty i four years old. yet he has done more than
circumnavigated the globe; he has visited and
traversed India. Africa. Europe, South Ameri
ca, the islands of the Pacific, and twice pene- 1
trated the Arctic region to the highest latitude {
attained by civilized man. He has encountered j
the ejclremest penis of sea and land, in eveFy .
climate of the globe: he has dischargid in,
turn the severest duties of the soldier and the
seamen : attached to the United States Navy 1
.as a surgeon, he is, nevertheless, engaged at j
one time in the coast survey of the tropical J
ocean, and m a month or two, we find Dim ox-1
pluring the frigid zone ; and all the while that
Ins personal experiences had the character of'
romantic adventure, he was pushing them in |
the spirit of scientific and philanthropic enter- j
prise. j
As a boy. his Instinctive bent impelled him
to the indulgence and enjoyment oi such ad- ■
ventures as were best fitted to train him for the
WOi k before him. His collegiate studies suffer |
ed some poslpdneraenl while his physical quail- 1
; ties pressed for their necessaay training and
1 discipline. It was almost in the spirit of trn- 1
ancy that he explored the Blue Mountains of!
Virginia, as a student of giology, under the,
guidance of Professor Rodgers and cultivated. .
at once, his hardihood of vital enetgy and thn.se
elements of natural science which were to quali-!
fy him for his after services in the field of phy-1
Sical geography. But. In due lime he returned j
to the pursuit df literature, and achieved the ,
usual honors, as well as though hts college slu- 1
1 dies had suUcitil no diversion —his muscles and I
! nerves were educated and his brain lost noth- ■
ing by the indirectness of its development, hut 1
was lather corroborated for all the u*cs which
it has served since He graduated at the Uni
versity Pennsylvania—first, in ilscollegialc.
and aflerwatds, in its medical department. His
special relishes in study, indicated his natural
drift t chemistry and surgery ; natural science
in its most intimate converse with substance, |
and llie ,rymtd\al art in its most, heroic function, i
Ho went-out from hia.iUmo Mater a good clas-;
,'s'iml -BclibTtfra* good mineralogist. aa-j
tronbnicr' and surgeon. But he locked, or
' thought' ho locked;-robustness of frame ond
soundness of health- Zic* solicited on appoint
ment in the nuvy, and upon his admission, de
manded active service., ije was appointed up
on the diplomatic staff as surgeon to the first
American Embassy to China. This position
gave him opportunity to explore the Philippine
Islands, which he effected mainly o*. fool. He
was the first man who descended into the cra
ter ol Tael; lowered more than a hundred feet
by a bamltoo rope from the over hanging chtf,
and clambering down some seven hundred more 1
through the scoriae, he made a topographical!
sketch of the interior of this great volcano, col i
lected a bottle of sulphurous acid from th*. very (
mouth of the crater ; and. although he was j
drown up almost senseless, he brought with him |
his portrait of this hideous cavern, and llie j
specimens which it afforded- |
Before he returned from this trip, he had as- \
cendid the llimulu) us.und tnauguht ed Greece, i
on foot : he had visited Ceylon, the Upper Nile,
and all the mythologic region of Egypt: tra J
versing the route, and making the acquaint- j
ance of the learned Lepsisus. who was then pro- I
seeming hls archaeological researches.
At borne again, when the Mexican war broke
out, lie asked to be removed from Philadelphia
Navy Yard to the field of a more congenial j
service; bui the government sent him to the j
Coast of Africa. Here he visited the slave fac
tories, from Cape Mount to the river Bonny,
and through the infamous Da Souza, got ac 1
1 cess to the btracbons Dahomey, and con-I
1 traded, besides, the Coast Fever, from the ef
fects of which he has never entirely recovered.
From Africa he returned before the close of
the Mexican war, and believing that his consti
tution was broken, and his health rapidly go
ing. he called upon President Polk, and de
manded an opportunity for service that might
qrowd the little remnant of hia fife wlthochietc
mutts in keeping with his ambition : the Presi
dent, just then embarrassed Dy a temporary
non-intercourse with General Scott, charged .
the Doctor with despatches to tho General, of
great moment and urgency, which must be
qamed through a region occupied by the ene
my. This embassy was marked by an adven
ture so romantic, and so illustrative ol the
Character of the man. that we are tempted to
detail it. ,
On his way to the Gulf he secured o horse in
Kentucky, such as knight errant would r hove
chosen’lor lus companion and a sharer of Jus
adventurers. Landed at Vera Cruz, ho asked
for an escort to convey him to thecupitol. but
tbl* oltfoer in coinmAnd hftd no troopers to spare
'—he must wait- or he must accent, instead, a
baud of called ilm Spy Com
tmnv who hud taken to the business of treason
and' trickery <fir- a livelihood. Ho Accepted
-them* and wept. Wrwttitl. .Near; Pueblc his
troop encountered a body nl Mexicans escort
iiig a number of distinguished officers to On*®*
ba! among whom wero Major General uaono,
Obvernorof Puebla 1 : his son, Maximilian, and
General Tnrejpu,iwho pooipianded the brilliant
chitrge of horse *t Buena Vista. The surprise
was mutual, but the Spy Company had the ad
vahinge of the ground. At the first instant of
tho discovery, and before the rascals fully com-
I prvheuded their involvement, the' Doctor Bhuut
EFFECT .OP. MkcitaNioal j n Spunsh: -Bravo: the capital adventure
lioWmechhnicir skill and l-.bbradd'to the vnl*> Colonel, form your line for the charge- And
no of Taw nmtcnaU the British Quarterly: Rtf- down theV went upon the enemy ; Kano and
vjew gives this Inplruclive calculation i-rrA bar ljiB » ft nurit Kentucky charger ahead. Under
of iron valued at 85, worked into horse shoes, Brtt ,. d j llg x \}* principle that sends a ullow can
to* worth 810 '5O : needles., 8355 penknife aio though a plank, and at that momentum
blh'dcs,«S,2Bs ' shirt buttons. *221480 * bah through ,tlm opposing force, and
anco springs of'watches. 8260.000- • Thirty*' lun ,j„g to engage after bre .king then' line, he
odd poumltflof irortJmvc been wftaoMPto.Wro fouud fairly surrounded, and two ol tho
upward of one hundred and eleven, r nfilcs In cnom y giving him their special attention. One
length, and'so fine was’the frobio, that a part 0 f therfo Aos disposed of In an, instant by rear
of It was converted, in lieu of lionfo hair, into a j d s. his horse, 1 who, with a blow of ms fore foot,
barrister’s wiir. . „r flared bis man; iand wheeling Buddenly. thfl
• ■ 1 •’ “ 11 1 1 . ■ .. i Doctor nave the other a sword wound, which
■ XT' Nathaniel Shelly woocomplaining Hist J™' . externa) iliao artery, and’put him
some pno had in»uM hint, by uoodlng a letter opened su bje6t 6f tho Dolor'S
dndolcd to ‘Nat Shelly; Bc S' anting l military 1 iurgery waa ttle yonhg Maximilian.-
'>yhy.’said a friend. I dop tBM aimning brief moWlcrroiniiltd with a try from tho
Inaulllnp aboiit that. Nat wan abhivlalion for *«»“ «_ ..Vooprrmidor." Ivyo pf the offl-
NalhamcK • , bu . ccr i mode a .ijash for an escape. tho Doctor
Ws tapSdeiiee !bl “ptlild Uwitha -Gnat' them,'hot Am jafo up chase.-
Newspaper Patron^--rTo all rWkom it may
Concern* ,
Tliis thing called patronage.!#a queer thing.
It ia very correctly rjjmarketl'oy some one. that
it ia composed ofuamahy colojra aa the rainbow,
and is as changeable at the t’Uc* of the chamc.
Jon. ' *
One man subscribes .for* pfiiper, and pays for |
it in advance—he goes homo.reads it the year]
round with the proud sat'idaciioii that it is his
own. Ho hands in-ap advertisement—asks (he
price and pays lor it—this is patronage.
Another man aay#—“put.my mime on your
list of subscribers and goes off without as
much us saying pay,once. H/A#k# yon to ad*
vertisc—but say# nqthing.abopt paying for.it.
Time passes—vpur paticoeq Vs exhausted, and
you dud him-; -ho flies Into tt_pu«sioa—perhaps
ho • •.
• ■ >■ jcueii&ft aAaffiber foj sOtbC
tlmo'/ jto becomes dirtja of ft., and. wants d
•'chang'e. 'Thinks hd'.wunlo another 'Journal—
gifcsiC up, .ood.yod »bad nnmo..--Ono of bis
papers,!# returned, to .you* marked ‘‘refused.”
Paying for Uls among his last-thoughts. After
a time you look over his accounts and send him
a bid of “balance duo.”. Bat he does not pa)
it—treats you with silent contempt. This 100
some call patronage. .
Another man Jives near you—never took your
paper—U Is too small—don’t like the paper,
don’t like its principles—too Americanism too
Democratic—its leaders 100 strong, its tales too
dry, vice verso, or something else—yet goes
regular to his neighbors and reads It—finds fault
with its contents and disputes Its positions, nnd
quarrels with Its type or paper.,) Occasionally
sees an article he likes, buys a paper per quar
ter.’ This, too, Is patronage.
Another (nnd bless you it dodsuagoodtogee
ouch a man) says:—‘-The year for which 1 have
paid is about to expire; I want to pay you lor
another.” This is patronage, ‘but ah, how
rare! 1
Another man subscribes—wants you to give
it to him on advance terms; be gets it regularly
every week, reads It carefully, and will always
praise ft time he sues you. as being a good,
■paper, wishes you success, .l*pes others will
subscribe-and encourage it, feels.disappointed
If It In Issued irregularly, and is tho first to com
plain of Its non-appearance—all this he Can do;
yet he never dreams of paying unless you dun
bin;, and then,with good promise# he will put
you off. This la too, very common patronage.
WoMiffir op Dtfpbubnt Nations.
the. women of different nations ore different in
their mental and affectionate constitution is
appareht to the most casual observer. They
arc as various in their natures aa'hre the clim
ates and physical characteristics of the several
countries of their nativity. ATI 1 human beings
are indeed the creatures of circumsmiwcs sur
roundin'/ and developing them. The following
on tho English. French. Italian and American
women'is irtgenions. and we have fid doubt J
many of oul* Waders will consider it'dlserimln
ating and' just : , VThe English' .woman is res
pectful and proud: the French tyqman is gay
and ngfecrti>lc- the Italian is passionate: the
I Americans sincere and-affeCllonatc/ ‘With an
j English woman. love is a principle' with a,
1 French woihan it ik cimric6: SvilH'an Italian it
lis a passjon: with nh American it is a Renti
iflent. Ue js to an English woman iau
idled jo French; qo hubiis with an Italian, and
is wed dill to dn. American.. An English wo
man is anxious to secure a lord: a Pronbn wo*
man a companion: ah -Ttflllau A
mericmi a husband. The Englishman respects,
his Indv r tin? Frenchman csteum} Ins compan
ion; the Italian adores his mistress; the Amer
ican loves.his wife. The Englishman at mght
retdrna trt Tns 'hoiikc.* while the Frenchman gpC-T
to his bniiin’iditnent; 7 . the PaHnri th nis rttrtwt,,
faud tho AlncnoahHriJils home. When bn En
r ghshimm is sjqV bid lady. visits him;, when a
Frenchman, is. sick, his companion pUM hunt
when ah Italian issick hiK.nus’-rosH smba over
: him: vrhcnbiv Alncricnn is sick hto'wiftMutrsc#
him:.!-Thl*. English woman Instructs her off
spring,. a French woman teaches her progepyc
an Italian rears her young, wnue sn- Amencin
cklucates Wchlld. •’
ui: j
| A SKETCH OF TUB LIFE OP EB. KANE,
DT DR. WILLIAM ELDER.
AT 82,00 PER ANNUM
NO. 35,
When he retamed, he found his ruffians pre
paring to massacre tho prisoners. As he gal
loped past the young officer whom he had
wounded, he heard him cry, ‘‘Senor, save my
father.” A group of the guerrilla guards were
dashing upon the Mexicans, huddled together,
with their lances in rest. He threw himself
before them—one of them transfixed his horse,
another gave him a severe wound in tho groin.
He killed the first-lieutenant, wounded the sec-
i ond-lieulenant. and blew a part of the Colonel’s
I beard ofi' with the lost charge of his six shoot
| er: then grappling with him. and using his
[ fists, he brought the parly to terms. The lives
j of the prisoners were saved, and the Doctor re-
ceived their swords. As soon as General Onona
could reach bis son. who lay a littlo distance
! from the scene of the last struggle, the Doctor
' found him sitting by him, receiving his last
'adieus. Shifting the soldier and resuming the
surgeon, he secured the artery and put the
wounded man in condition to travel. The am-
bulance got up for the occasion, contained at
once the wounded Maximilian, the wounded
second lieutenant, and the man that had pre-
ftared them for slow traveling, himself on his
titer, from the lance wound received in defence
of his prisoners ! When they reached Puebla,
the Doctor’s wound proved the worst of the
party. He was taken to the government house
out the old General. In gratitude for his gener
ous services, "had him conveyed to his own
house. General Childs. American commander
at Puebla, hearing of the generosity of his pris
oner. discharge! him without making any
terms, and the old general became the principle
nurse of his captor and benefactor, dividing hm
attentions between him and his son. who lay
wounded in an adjoining room. This dllneHS
of our hero was long and doubtful and he was
reported dead to his friends at home-
When he recovered and returned he was
employed in the Const Survey. While engag-
ed in this service the government by n* cones-
pondenco with Lady Frunklin became commit
ted for an attempt at the rescue of Sir John and
his ill starred companions in Arctic discovery
Nothing could be better addresstd to the Doc
, tor’s governing sentiments than tins adventure
The enterprise of Sir John ton exactly in the
i current of one of his own enthusiasms—the scr
i vice of natural science combined with heroic
, personal eflort : and. added to this, that sort of
, pairtmisin which charges itself with its own
' full share in the execution of national engage
i ments of honor : and besides this cordial na
-1 sumption of his country’s debts and duties,
there was no iitile force in the appeal of m no
' hly brave spirited woman to the chivalry of the
1 American navy.
He was * bathing in the tepid waters of the
Gulf of Mexico, on the 12th of May. 1850."
when he received his telegraphic order to pro
cced forthwith to New York, for duty upon the
Arctic expedition. In nine days fiom that
date he was beyond the limits of the United
Stales on his dismal voyage to the North Pole.
Of this first American expedition, as is well
known to the public, he was the surgeon, the I
I naturalist. and the historian. It returned dia- |
appointed of ita main object, after a winter in
• the regions of eternal ifce and a fifteen month's
; .absence, v 1 ' “ ‘
1 , Scarcely aljowing himself a doy to recover
f from thennrd.shipS of tJjts cruise no set on foot
1 (be second attempt, from which he has return
ed, after verifying by actual observation the
long questioned existence of an open sea beyond
the latitude of 82°. and beyond the tempera
ture, also. oflo0 o below the freezing point.—
His ••Personal Narrative.” published early in
1853, recounts the adventures of the first voy
age, and discovers his diversified qualifications
for such an enierpnse.
The lust voyage occupied two winters in the
highest latitudes, and nvy yea is and .a half of
umuUTiintted labor with the risks and respon
sibilities nuvndant lie is now preparing the
hi-lory for publication But that purl of it is
which best re|Hirls his personal agency, and
would most justly present the man to the read
er. mil of course be suppressed. We would
gladly supply it, but as yet this is impossible
to us. Ilia journal is private property, the ex
tracts which we may expect will be only 100
shy of egotism, ami his companions have not
spoken yet. as someday they will speak, of his
conduct throughout the terrible struggles
winch together they endured.
To form anything like an adequate estimate
of that Inst achievement it is to be recollected
dint his w hole company amounted to hut twen
ty men. and that o( his corps or crew he was
the commander, in naval phrase: and whenwi
are apprised that his portfolio of reentry,
sketched on the spot in pencil, and in water
colors kept fluid over n spirit-lamp, amounts to
over three hundred sketches. wc have a hint of
the extent and variety of ihu offices he filled on
this voyage. He was m fact the surgeon, sail
ing master, astronomer and natural.si, ns well
as captain and lender of the expedition.
This man of all work, ond desperate daring
and successful doing, is in height about five
feet seven indies : m weight, say one hundred
and thirty pounds or so, if health and, rest
i would out give him leave to fill up bis natural |
j measure- Ills complexion is fair.lns hair brown,
and bis eyes dark gray, with a Imwk look. He
I is a bunter by every gift and grace and instinct
1 that makes up the character : nn excellent
I shot, and a brilliant horseman. He lias es
caped with whole bones from all his adventures,
but he has several wounds which aie trouble
some: and. with such general health ns Ins
most men would call themselves invalids, and
live on furlough from "II the active duties of
I life; yet ho lias won the distinction of being
the first civilized man to stand in latitude 82°
30' and gaze upon the open Polar Sea —to reach
1 the northernmost point of land on the globe—
I to report the lowest temperature ever endured
he heaviest sledge journeys ever performed
—and the wildest lilo that civilized man has
successfully undergone: and to return alter all
to tell the story of his adventures.
The secret spring of all this energy Is In his
religions enthusiasm -discovered alike in the
generous spirit of his adventures in pursuit of
science; in his‘enthusiastic fidelity to duty,
nnd in his heroic nininiainance of the point of
honor jn all his intercourse with men.
In his deportment there is that mixture of
shyness and frankness, simplicity npd faslidi
ousness. sandwiched rather than blended.which
makes the man of genini. and the monk of in
dustry. He seems confident in himself but
not of himself. IBs manner is remarkable for
celerity of movement, alert attentiveness quick
ness of comprehension, rapidity of utterance
and sententious compactness of diction, which j
arise front a habitual watchfulness against tnc
betrayal of his own enthusiasms. He seems to
fear that lie is boring yon. and Is always dis
covering his unwillingness *no sit” for your
admiration- If yon question him about the
official acknowledgements ot bis services by
the British and American governments, or in
any way endeavor to turn him upon bis own
gallant achievements, ho hurries- you away
from the subject to some point of scientific In
terest which ho presumes will more.concern
and engage yourself; or ho says or d ocrf “""Jr
thing that makes you think ho is occupied j
with his own inferiority in son™ waiter
your conversation presents to him, Onei i« o
bligfcd 'to Struggle with him tt» ™mt^ntbo
toruiof reaped which hh character and a-
*
is over.’ajfeftling ofdlwpppintment rcmiibstSr
ihb fkllhre in your efforts to ransack the rnutl
as you wished, and to render tbbtrlbute which
you owed him. . i ; v,
We wish’ wc coUld he kurd ihftt he Will Ao£
in his forthcoming work, giro u& -the ,dram*
without its hero; dr tfe widHhVakbedittan
and its hero had a chronicler worthy da'ife
would be were be not theprincipal dbsrftdUr
in the story. ~ • ' ■ ‘ r. V.
Dr. Kano's Narrative of tho ezpedition,.qoir
preparing, and in the process ot publication by
Messrs. Childs & Peterson of Philadelphia; WIU
embrace the important discoveries made in Ihb
frozen regions far beyond tbereach'of-all tfcb
predecessors of tho American exploringpyrty.
and their perilioua adventures, crowuca yritn '
romantic incidents, which, in the language (ft
the Secretary of the Navy, “tibt onlycxdito
our wonder, but borrow a novel grendfearftasi
the truly benevolent consideration which imi
mated and nerved him to. bls tosk. 1 *
[Graham's Magazine, February, 1856. '
EMINENT 1 AUTHORS, -
Dp. Qdinct.—He is one of the smallest ' leg
ged smallest-bodied, and most attenuated cm*
pcs of human form divine, that one could ; fliyl
n a crowed city during a day’s Walk. ,'Andif
one adds to this figure clothes that - are not
fashionably, cut nor fastidiously adjusted* ho
will have a rough idea of De Quincy. Qut than
bis brow, thaLpushcahiaobalnisive hat id'the
back part of his head, and bis light grey ttrek,
that do not seem to look out, to be turned
ward, sounding the depths of his imagination,
and scratching out the most abstruse jogic.bt l
something that you would search a week totfod
the mate* to, and you would bo disappointed,
Dc Quincy now resides at Lasswado, aroma*-
tic and rural village, once the residence of
Walter SCott, about sevCn miles.from Edin
burg. Scotland, where an affectionate daiiglP
ter watches over him, and Where bels UkP
wonder of the country people for mifol
round. • •j
Jkkold.—Douglas Jcrold. a well knowncon
, tnbutor to Punch, an editor of various 'pbbli'
> cations, is a man about fifty years of og%,~aßd
,■ in person is remarkably spare and diminutive.
. His/ucc is sharp and angular, and hia 1 of
i a greyish hue. He is probably one Of thcmOb®
■ caustic writers of the age. and, with keen sen
. Mbiliiy. Jic often writes under the impulse bf
• tho moment, articles which his cOolcr jutlgj
> inent condemns. Although a belietcr in by
i dropathy, bis habits do not conform tt> thirex
’ icrnal application of Adam's ale. His- “Cap*
} die Ix*cturcs” have been read by every one. -
; In conversation he is quick at retort- 1 -not il«
wavs refined. Uo is a husband and a grand
s fniber.
The Hon. T. B. Maoaolat la short in stat
ure. round, and with a growing tenderfdy to
nldermanic disproportions. Ills bead has tjic
same rotundity ils his body, and seems slock
on as a pin bend. This is nearly the sum, of
Ins personal defects : all else except the voice
i winch is monotonous and disagreeable) is CO 1 *
tamly in his favor. His face seems literally
instinct with expression ; his eye, above all.
full of deep thought and meaning. As'be
walks, or rather straggles, along the streets,he
■ms m a state of total abstraction, unihind^
M of all lhat is going on around him, and sole
ly occupied with his own working mind. You
cannot nelp thinking that literature with him
is not a mere profession or pursuit, but that ;: it
I has almost grown a part of himself, as though
historical problems or analytical criticisms
were a part of his daily and intellectual food.
Bailky.—A correspondent of the New York
Trttmne. writing from Nottingham, England,
says—"l have seen Bailey, the author of -Fes*
tus. His father is proprietor of the Notting
ham Mercury . and the editorial department
rests with him. He is a thick set sort of ft
man. of a stature below the middle size, com-
I plexion dark, and iq»,years about cight-and
uhirty. Ills physiognomy would bo clownish
liu expression, if his eyes aid not redeem hisowtl
, features. He spoke of Pcsius, and of its fame
in America, of whlch-be proud—
- In England it iiflj only reached its third edition,
while eight or nine hare been published in the
United States. ”
Lama utikr.—Lamartine is—yes, ladies,posi
tively—a prim looking man. with a long face,
short grey hair, a slender figure, and a suit of
black. Put a pen behind his ear, flftd he would
look a ■•confidential clerk." Givchis fade more
character, and ho would remind you ot Henry
Clay. lie has a fine head, phrenological!/
speaking—large and round at the lop, with a
spacious forehead, and a scant allotment of
cheek. Prim is the word, though. There is
nothing in lm> appearance which is crer 80 re
motely suggestive ol the romantic. He is not
even pale, but as fur a rolling collar or ft Dy
ionic tie. tic is evidently not the man to think
of such things. Romance, in fact, is the arti
cle lie lives by. and like other men, ho chooses
to •sink the shop," at least, when bo sits for
his (xmrait.
Dumas, on tho contrary, la a burly fellow—
Mis large, red. round cheeks standout till they
seem to stretch the very Skin that covers them,
ami ii looks ob smooth as a polished apple. His
black crisped hair in piled high above bis fore
head. and stands divided in two unequal mass
es.one inclined to tbc right and tho other to the
left. His eyes are dark, and his mouth sensu
ous, boi not to the degree of vulgarity. His
person is large, and his flowing mantle is red.
lie in a gentleman to lay bare his throat and
look romantic, not Uyronicslly »o. but piratl
uillv. Yet he looks good humored, and liko a
man whoso capacity for physical enjoyment is
boundless. Ifis negro blood »s evident enough
to one who knows he has it, but it would not
be dcti cut! by one who knew it nut. It ap
pears in the peculiar rotundity of ihe man.and
all his parts. U crtB|»ed and heaped his hair ;
it made him dress up In flowing red to have his
picture taken. Gut his complexion is only a
slmde darker than the average. The portrait
reminds you fora moment of tho late Thomas
Hamblin, the actor. .
EdoeshSub Is nether prim nor burly. He
is a man of Urge frsmo. over which a loose
black cloak is carelessly buttoned. Complex
ion light, eyes Wne, hair ones black, now pep
per-and-salt. whiskers voluminous, eyebrops
black and thick, goyd forehead, pnd lower face
ample. This conveys no hotter idea of llictnoh’a
appearance than a freftch passport. ' But the
truth is. Sue's countenance .and figure hnvo
none of Uiosc peculiarities which make a de
scription possible. He looks like a Comforta
ble-. easy, careless, elderly gentleman, takihg
Ins ease in au easy chair and an easy coat. 'Ho
docs not look on author—authors seldom do. —
! His air is rather lhat of a prosperous citizen.—
Sue is only forty live years of age, but he lias
lived fast and looks fifty-five. Lamartine is
sixty-three and would psss cosily for-fifty
three. Dumas is fifty, and poqld get credil/or
iliirty-cight. ' \ - t
COLORED DAOUKRUEOTTPRa.—U i* slated la
the SaugertiW (N. Y.) TeltgrapK ibOX the Ret.
L L. llilj, of tfiat place, baa n length perfect
ed his discovery (br firing the color* of tb4 da
guerreotype. and that be naa been offered s3o, a
000 for hip right in it. , Ue values it, however,
at ten times that amount, and not too highly if
he has actually succeeded in so-great an a
ohierement of science—a question still open to
serious doubt.
AK Ao«o Pmsonkr.— An Italian newspa
per states that a native of Savoy, who war
condemned at the age of 41 to the .Trench gsl*
leys for life, has just been liberated, at too
ago of 121: It is said that he h*“» a little pro
perty in Savoy, the interest winch ha« tan
accumulating exactly MJp.ycars* ?I 0 0 ?
low enjoys perfect health, although he jdoops
so much that his face nearly toadies his knfees.
“confidence" .roan—tha roan who
thinks he can help a good looking servant girl
to cord the bedstead without getting his bead
brake by his wife- ; . - ; ■ •
(CrSo necessary iafun to the mind, that *
late philosopher says if you should build schools
without play-grounds, nobody would get; bo
vend short division in a Ufa time.