lIHOAN VOLUNTEER, SHUSHED EVBttYf TmJIISDAT MORNIKQ BT jobn XI. Bratton* TtißMSi josoniPTiON.-rOno Dollar and Fifty Cents, In advance j Two Dollars If paid within tho .. an d Two Dollars and Fifty Cents, if not within tho year. These terms .will bo fig idhercd to in every instance. .No subscrlp ilHContioucd until all arrearages are paid }s at tho option ol tho Editor. iVertiseliehts — Accompanied by tho cash, not exceeding one square, will bo Inserted »times for one Dollar, and twenty .five cents icb additional insertion. Those of a great igth in proportion. b-Pkintino —Such ns Dand-bills, Posting i, Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, &c., &c.,cxe jd with accurary and at the shortest notice ftorlital. WRITE OFTEW. rnou MART. Write to mo very often, Write to mo very soon— Letters to mo ore dearer Than tlio loveliest flowers In Juno ; They axo aflectlon’s touches Lighting of friendship’s lamp, Flitting around the heart strings, Like Are flics In the damp. Write to mo very often, Wiito in the joyous mom, Or at tho close of evening, When all (he day is gone. Then while tho stars are beaming Bright on tho azure sky, When thro’ the fading forest Gold tho wild winds sigh, Draw up thy Attic table Close to tho fire, and write, Write to mo soon In the morning, Or write to mo late at night. Write to mo very often j Letters are links that bind Truthful hearts to each other, Fettering rfiind to mind, Giving to kindly spirits Lasting and true delight, If ye would strengthen friendship, Never forget to write. HwffllnnFDiiß, NIGHT DEFOBE THE WEDDING iMriii. A'Tale of the Hundred Days UV VIUGIKIA OK POIUIEST, ‘This must be the last of your wedding gifts, linka,” soid Madam Brenlnno, handing a 11 package to her daughter, ‘as you are to tarried to-morrow, and it is now quite late to evening ; I think there will be no more.’ [other V said the young girl, in a frighten tno. holding up a small jet necklace, the onts of the package. ‘See, it is black ! a ominous. Oh, want grief can be in store Ilenry and me!’ None, none, Vaninka! tills is mere folly.’ her mother, in a tone of rebuke, at it was some minutes, before the young len recovered her calmness. Then, con ing her weakness by a violent effort, she , lightly— km 1 not silly, mother ? You will laugh \ I tell you it; but my blood ran cold,and lesh, seemed to creep, os I touched this lie os if it had been a serpent. See, I do mml it now ?' inmka Brentano was the only clmd of thy Prussian commoners. She had Jbeen betrothed to Henry Werdcr, a young'bffl \ the Prussian army, hut owing to the Jo Europe, their wedding had been long xd. 1Sow; however, there was peace, and (Wers were to be united the day after the loword the end of which my story corn ices*, Vaninka was devotedly attached to betrothed, and too happy at the near op ;U of their nuptials to allow the black lace to disquiet her long. Her parents the room, and. throwing herself into a , she leaned her head against its hack .and •it into a reverie, her fingers mechanically laying the while with her Inst gift. It was ksy to sec that her reflections were of n pleas int nature, for ever and anon, a beautiful smile Itoloovcr her features, and fading gradually Sway, still left the same expression of quiet Happiness. She had been sitting there some ;irho, when another person entered the room.— Che intruder was a young, handsome man [teased iu full Prussian uniform. Ilm face palc.and wore an agitated look, strongly r wilh the pcnecful smile on Vanin lip** She not l ,car cntcr * ft nd |&ksstood for a moment looking, with Ins eyes m, --beaming with tenderness upon her: then with air of a roan who has a distressing duty to V " *—■ ho advanced and stood before her. ,*y ?’ she exclaimed, starling to her Teel, tot expect you Ibis evening; has any mppened V jh. much, Taninka. Sit down again, vill take this stool at your feet. My bc t came to tell you our wedding must be led.*’ wedding?' cried the astonished girl. > sol You arc astonished, perhaps lave I told you too abruptly ? I>ook in *, Vaninka, and see what I have suiter >rc I would grieve you with my bad Henry, I do not understand. Why ro wait still longer ?' uisc T must leave you in twenty min* rc mo 1' . Napoleon lias left Elba, nnrt is even Paris ; our troops leave the city in half »ry ! am T awoke 7 No, no,Henry, you iin earnest. Ah!’ she saitl.ahuddcring. caught sight of the necklace. 'I .said il ninous! I—l—Henry, you cannot leave "e-night, too ! the very night before the Ig.’ inka, do not trouble and sob so ! Van ho cried, straining her to his breast. *1 ; Bee the clock points to the lime I set 'c you, Vaninka ! She has fainted. .to!’ And, kissing her palo face again sain, he laid her on the sofa, and went in v-. ...» of her parents. A few words told all, bearing their fervent blessing be departed. •V WP&P parsed m)4 Vn»inka ncard nothing ./rom her Site grow pale and thin, her movements were languid, and her former light vfltcp grew heavy. She jjo longer sang at work, j ■libjjt would lot her hands fall listlessly into her flap; and heave deep sighs, while sometimes the .great tears rolled unheeded down her checks. ‘ At length there came the news of tho bottle Of Waterloo \ Napoleon hail been defeated, and All Europe was ringing with tho tidings. Van ! jnkt's suspense now amounted to perfect agony. ; »Hejlrjr!’ she would err. ‘ls ho killed?* ;.*oh, when will he come r Ono morning, when she was seated with her •mother, sewing, she was told that a Prussian ! .officer waited to see her. Wilh her heart trem . bling bcttyccn fear and- hope, she obeyed tho • summons. As aha slowly entered the room, a . .Stronger rose, and advanced to meet her. > 'Mademoiselle IJrcntftno? h° enquired, bow- toff' •The same. Will you be seated sir i •I am 'Frederick Xeiten; I served in the bat* • Jtlo of Waterloo, in thP panic regiment with Henry Worden, and bo requested mo to deliver • jdila to you.’ As bo finished he placed a small ' package In her handa. ’ |Wny does ho notcomo himself 1 Hols nob ’ dead f. Oh, say ho.te not dead !’ she said, fn *.|ft voice of Ifliph lAfylAribg agonyjthat the young tidier felt Inc team rise in ills eyes. • ‘Xftdy,’ lib BiijJ, in a sad tone,‘Henry fell ~ftt Waterloo I' ' 61» did not fi,cream nor faint, but Bpuk into BY JOHN B. BRATTON. VOL 42. Uic chair near her, with only a moan of agony* He mistook her silent, tearless agony for calm ness. and began to relate the particulars of his comrade s death, and he delivered his dying message to his betrothed. Vaninka heard eve ry word, but she neither spoke nor stirred, but sat with her eyes fixed on the little package h<*, had given her. He left her, and her mother , found her half an hour after, still in the same i position. ‘Vaninka.’ she said 'who was your visitor V \ There was no answer. ' i ‘Vaninka !’ she said again. ‘Are yon ill?’ and she laid her hand gently upon her arm. •Dead, mother, dead 1' she said, now .raising her eyes. I ‘Who is dead, darling?’ asked her mother, frightened at her strange lone, •Vaninka slowly opened the package, drew out the ring and hair it contained, and :rnur muring ‘Henry ! Oh, mother, he is dead !’ she fell sobbing into her mother’s arms. We change the scene now to Waterloo, in the latter part of the battle between the armies of Napoleon and Wellington. The moment we choose was the one in which the Imperial Guard of the Emperor threw themselves with, desperate valor between the advancing Prus sian forces and the English army, to prevent their joining their strength. Henry Werder. at the head of his regiment, felt his heart throb with intense excitement, as the two immense columns, the flower of the French army, ad vanced upon the English troops. They came on in silence, until within range of the batter ies prepared to receive them; then a terrific discharge, seeming to rend heaven ami earth, scattered death among their ranks : still those veterans advanced, the honor of their nation was in peril, they could die. but not to turn before tlie enemy ; another discharge the Prussian troops, who had been rapidly nearing the scene of action, I hen dnslud amongst than. The Gnarde Impermlc de Napoleon was utfbr- Jy annihilated. One exultant shout was raised by the allied armies, as this fearful crisis was decided in their favor. Hut where, in the moment, of victory was Henry ? Stretched upon the field, his head supported by his fellow officer, Fiedenck f.ei ten, and the life blood flowing from a wound in his breast. ‘Frederick !' he murmured, in a dying voice, ‘you will see Vnmnka •If I live!’ answered his comrade with deep emotion. * ‘You will give her this ring, and cut some ol my hair ol!' for her. Tell her my dying thoughts were of her. Heaven bleasyou, mv comrade. Farewell!' and his head fell heavily back. •Dead!' said Frederick,/and 1 must leajc him here.’ Frederick was mistaken : Henry was not dead, he had only fainted. Some hours after wards. ho was lying ort a hospital bed in a rav ing delirium. For weeks his life hung upon a thread ; then a young, strong constitution tri umphed, and be began to mend. His physician positively forbade his returning to Prussia,and warning him that his lungs were much affected, ho recommended a winter in Italy. Waiting a long absence. Henry made his preparations,and, after an illness- of over three wonthsi-started Jh in the early part of October for Naples.' He* re mained there gaining health and strength until, the next June, and then started for home.— During his residence in Italy, he had written again and again to both Vaninkn and Frederick, , and wonder id üby he had received no letters in ; answer. His epistois ne\cr reached them. j We now return to Vaninkn. Contrary to the | fear of her friends, she had seemed to l»ear her loss with eulmness. .She had been so long in a slate of Agonizing suspense, that any rei tom tv. even ibis direful one. was a relief. Still her step did not regain Us elasticity, ami ber grief, if not loud, was deep. Her friends mistook her despair for calmness. c*hc grew paler and thinner, and now frequently kept her room for days together. Her lover had been gone some eight months when her Imnd was again sought in marriage. George Weiiner was a gentle, mild old man. of about seventy years of age*, wealthy. and of large influence in Ins native (own. He Mas an old friend of Vninulvii's father, and had long thought of seeking Vaninkn for . ins bride -- When however, be bad seen the place be covet ed about to be worthily filled, he kept silent on the subject of bis desires, and cultivated the acquaintance of Ins lady-love’s betrothed. — Now. deceived os others were in Vaninka’s de meanor, ho advanced bis soil. Her parents, knowing that he would spare no pains or ex pense to make her happy, urged their child to accept his ofler, and she consented to see linn, •Mr. Wiemcr,’ she said, •! wished to tell you how grateful I feel for your kind and (Haltering offer, and to place my situation fully before you. God only knows bow entirely my heart is occupied by my irreparable loss. I have felt that I should ere lung join him, still I have en deavored faithfully to perform the duties left to me. Ido not think I shall live long, but, if I can by any means add to the happiness of an other. God has granted me will to do so. If you will accept my hand knowing that my heart is in Henry's grave, it is yours, and I will endeavor to fulfil my duties as a wife, trusting to your love and indulgence to forgive me if 1 fail in making you happy while I am with you. Th good old man was too happy to have his ofler accepted on any terms, and lie thanked her warmly. A day was soon set for the wed ding, all tilings were making ready. Mr. Weimer hoped, by travelling and other diversions of her mind, to raise bis bride’s spir its and prolong her feeble life. **•••«» Again it was the night before Vaninka's wed ding. ami again she was sealed, lost in thought, in the same chair that we first saw her in Now, alas, her vfcvcpic was a very painful one, ami low choking sobs look the place of her for mer happy smiles. She was Hitting painfully rellccting on the past, when a shadow fell on the (ioor before her. and, raising her eyes, she saw a stranger standing looking on her. He j stood with his hack to the light ; she could not see his face, but something made her heart stand still as she arose to great him. He only said one word, ‘Vaninkaf* and, exclaiming ‘Henry!’ sho sprang to his embrace. He caught her passionately to his breast, and held her there ns if he feared another separation. ‘So,’ said a pleasant voice at the door, ‘there is a change in bridegrooms.* and Mr. Weimcr entered tho room- Vaninka stood a moment confused, hut taking her hand he placed it m Henry’s saying : 'Take her, Henry ; shew 100 young, good, and handsome for an old man like myself.* I was an old fool to think of it. Take her, and my warmest blessing attend your union.* And with n kind beaming smile, the old,man left them together, This time Vaninka’s wedding was not post poned, and ns Vnninhaand Henry stood before the altar, Mr. Weimcr, watching the happy blushing face of tho brido. owned that ho could not have called.up, With all Ids devotion, such an expression of perfect''love and Joy, [C7“IIo that by giving a draught of water to a thirsty petsi/o, shohld expect to’bo paid with ’4 good plantation, would bo modest in his de mands, compared with those who think they de servo heaven fpr tho little gdod they do on ertrth, "Ot f H COUNTRY—MAY IT ALWAYS DIS RIGHT —OUT RIGHT Oil WRONG, OUR COUNTRY.” TIIE RAG GIRL Tt was one cold and wet morning in the year 1834, that Mrs. L , wife of Isaac L , who lived on Columbia street, Cincinnati, dis covered a little girl in the alloy, in the rear of their house, picking up the t ags. The girl was very dirty, and covered with rags stitched to gether, and nothing on her head, feet or arms. When Mrs. L. discovered her she started ns If afraid of chastisement. Mrs. L’s. feelings were , wrought up to a high degree of sympathy in seeing the child, only about eight years of age, shivering and black with dirt, and standing in 1 a mass of mud half way to her knees, j "Child.” she addressed her, "ain’t you cold I and hungry ?” \ "Yes. mam,” was the r“p?v- I "Come, my child.” said Mrs. L. She took her in, and gave hern breakfast. After eating, she began to question her, and found that site , had a mother and drunken father, who com ( polled Iter to go out and pick rags to get money 1 for him with .which to buy liquor. She told Mrs. L. where she lived, who to test her vera city went to where she was directed and found llie place; tiie poor drunken father, with three little children, ragged mother, with haggard and sickly look, and no comforts of a family within (heir miserable hovel, on Plum street, i Mrs 1,, became satisfied that the child could be nothing but miserable with them, and she revived to keep her at all hazards. She left a dollar with the woman and departed. On arriving homo she found the litlle Annete M. cheerful at the fire. As soon ns Mrs. L. en tered the room, the little rag picker smiled and said. “1 have been waiting for you sonic time; I must go, ami 1 wanted to thank you for your kindness.” This Indy.-hearing snob a remark from so young ami miserable a looking child, astonish ed Mrs 1,., and still further calling out her sympathy: and as tin* girl was ilia door, the woman told her to stay, and she would give her some clothe;; but no. the girl would go, she said she was compelled to be at work. Nothing could persuade her to stay; but a promise to go and sec the mother and gel her consent. The lady lull, and in a short tunc re turned. and told the child that ber father and mother had given her to them. The child in about a week was in one of the private schools of the city, and at the age of 14, received a medal worth thirty dollars, for her excellence in composition. At the age of IG she was the idol of the family of Mr. I-., the belle of Cincinnati, and the admired of all who knew her. Mr. L. was a man of great wealth and prom inence m the city, and did all he could, for the education of Annette, in connection with Ins two sons and only daughter. i In 184-4 she was married to a very wealthy young man of high accomplishments. They soon removed to the city of Boston, where they prospered in business, and here the story must end, for a further statement would reveal to the reader precisely the person who was once I the /tog Girl of Cincinnati. Suffice it to say that she is now one of the first literary women of. this country, anti the wife of Mr. L.> eldest i?on of Ifcr benefactor In Ikntbmng ankle deep in mud in the alley in thorcar of the house of her father-in-law. Render, this is ono of the ninny bountiful re turns for tile labors of the generous. Howl many opportunities tho wealthy have for doing • that which will contribute to the salvation of, the object of charity, and be n las'ing ornament 1 to the pages of their biography 1 Tlic Way lo Eminence. That which oilier folks run (fa, Why. with patience, may not yon? Long ago a little hoy was entered at Harrow school, lie was put into a class hcyimd his years, ami where all the scholars had the ad vnniage of previous in.siiucunn denied lo him. Ills master eludes him for his dullness, and all his efforts then could not raise him from the lowest place on the form. But, nothing daunted lie procured the grammer and other elementary books which his class-fellows had gone through m previous terms, lie devoted the hours of play, ajid not a few of the hours ! of sleep, to (he mastering «.f these; till, in a few weeks, he gradually began to rise, and it was : not long till he shot far ahead of all his com panions, and become not only leader of the di ■ vision, but the pride of Harrow. You may sco | the statue of that boy. w hose career began with this lit of energetic application, m St. Paul's cathedral: for he lived to lie the oriental sclml nr of modern Europe—it was Sir William Jones. When young scholars sec the lofly’ pinnacle of attainment on which that name is now re posing. they (eel as if it had been created there, rather than have travelled thither. No such thing. The most illustrious in the annals of philosophy once knew no more than the illiter ate now do. And how did he arrive at liisneor less dignity?C?l3y dint of dilligencc: by down right pains-taking. —Life m Earnest. Occupation, AVhat a glorious tiling il is for the human heart. Those who work hard seldom yield themselves entirely tip to fanned or real sorrow. When grief sits down, folds Us hands and I mournfully feeds upon its own tears weaving! the dun shadows that a little exertion might : sweep away, into n funeral pull, the strong , spirit is shown of its might, and sorrow be* i comes our master. When troubles How upon you, dutk and heavy, toil not with the wn>cs w restle not with the torrent!—rather seek by occupation, to divert the dark waters that threaten to overwhelm you. into a thousand channels, which the duties of life always pre sent. Before you dream of il, thwSo waters will fertilize the present, and give birth to fresh (lowers that will become puro and holy, in the sunshine which penetrates to the path of duty, in spile of every obstacle. Grief after all. is I but a selfish feeling, and most seltlsh is the man who yields himself to the indulgence of any passion which bungs no joy to his fellow man. Faitiu'ui.nuss. —U is a dear delight for tho soul to have trust in the faith of an other. It makes a pillow of softness for (lie cheek which is burning with the tears and the touch of pain. It is an nndeferred seclusion into which (ho mind, when weary of sadness, may retreat for the caresses of constant love—a warmth in the clasp of friendship forever lingering on the hand; a consoling voice that dwells with on eternal echo on the car—a dew of mercy falling on the troubled hearts of this world. Dercav* menu and wishes long withheld, sometimes descend as chastening grief upon our nature, but there Is no solace to the bitlcrncssof broken faith. ftT” “When I goes a shopping,” Bald nn old lady, << I alters auks for what.l wants, nnd'l/ thoy havo It,and Ha suitable, I fool Inclined to buy it, and Its cheap, and it can’t be got any place for loss, 1 moat allots take U, without chapporlng about It all day, as most people does.” in put delicate, the most sensible of all pleasures, consist In producing the pleasure of others. CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, MARCH 13,1856, From the Home journal, HIV UDV WAITS?FOR HIE. scuoelted uy a popular'oeuman melody ur acofiOß I*. Mpiuus. My Indy waits J—’Tis now (lie hour When morn unbars her gates!— My vessel glides beneath the tower Where now my lady wails. Her signal flutters from thy wall, Above Hie iVieudly seal I live tint to obey her call 1 My lady waits— foiliuo she wails. While morning opes her golden gales. My lady waits !— No,fSlrft| flower E'er deck'd tho flOtttl.gTyvo, Thun she, the pride bower, The f.uiy of my lovo f The eastern lulls are flecktfl with light, The land breeze curls tllfi sea’ By love mid truth for flight, My lady waits foi'niO."’ I My lady wails—for me.slidlv.aits, While morning opes beholden gates. DAMEl _ WBUSTER'S', FIP.ST CASE, PLEA FOR A POOR VtpODCHUCK I well remember henringOny fullicr tell the following anecdote illustrative of the early ge nius of the great statesman* Ebeuezer Webster, father of Daniel, was a farmer. The vegetable's in the garden suffered considerably from tbo depredations of a wood rlinck, whose hole and habitation wore near the premises. Daniel, some.tyi or twelve years old, and ids older brother Ezekiel, had set a trap, and finally succeeded in capturing flic trespasser. Ezekiel proposed to kill the animaP and end at once all lurther trouble from liini; but Daniel looked with compassion upon tins meek, dumb, captive, and Oflbrcd to let linn go again free. Tbo boys could not agree, and cadi appealed to their lather to decido tlio ease.— “ Well my boys,” said tlio’old gentleman, “ I will be Judge. There Is tho prisoner, (pointing i to tho woodchuck) and you shall lie his eminsi I i and plead tho case Cor and against his life anil liberty. EzoUiol opened tho case \yith a strong argu- ( mont, urging the mischievous nature of the uni- 1 mul, the great harm ho had'?jdready done, said (hat much time ami labor bad been spent in .the capture, and now it ho was suffered to live and go at large again he would renew his depreda tions; and he cunning enough to suffer himself to he caught again, and that he ought non to ho put to death; and his akin ■was ol some value, and that to make tho roost'ol him (hey could, it would not repay half the damage hu ha 1 al ready dono. Ills argument was ready, prueli- I cal and to tho point, and of ipnch greater length than our limits will allow us to occupy In re hit-' inp the story. . * ' The fattier looked with pride upon his ann,| who became a distinguished jurist in Ids man. , hood. “Now Daniel it Is your turn; I’ll hear' What you have to say.” -. j u “ It was his drat caso. -Daniel saw that the plea of his brother bad sensibly nfl'ected his fa ther, tliu Judgy, and his largo brilliant eyes looked upon timid ;c.xpreaMon of the animal, and aaho saw it fear in its | narrow prison* Ids heart- swcAluil -with pity, and 1 I (Jve might again go fVoo.: God, no snloThad made the woodchuck j .ho made him to tiro and I enjoy the'bright sud-llght, (ho pnfo air, the free fields and woods. God has not made him or any tiling in vain ; the woodchuck had as ninHi 1 right to live as any living thing; ho was not » destructive animal as the wolf and fox were . he simply ate a low common vegetables, ol who-h they had n plenty and could well spare u pmt ; he destroyed nothing except the little fond ho needed to sustain his humble Htc; and that lit tle food was as sweet to him and as neccssiuy to his existence, ns was to them the food of his mother’s table. God I nrnlahed their own (ood. 110 gave (hem all (hoy possessed 5 and would (boy not spare a little for the dumb creature, ' who really had as much right to his small share of God’s bounty, ss (hey Utefnsclvcs had to (heir portion ; yea. more, the animal had never vio lated (ho laws of Jos nature or fho Jaw of God, , as man otlcn did. hut strictly followed the aim- 1 pie. harmless instincts he had received from the ; hand of the creator of all things. Created hv God’s hands, he had a right from God to life.' to food, to hl.ertv, and they hail no right to do- ' privo him of either. Ho alluded to the mule, but earnest pleadings of the animal for that life, as sweet, ns dear to him as was their own-to them 1 and the just Judgment they might expect if in selfish cruelly and cold heartedness (hey took the life they could not restore again, that life (hat God alone had given. j During tills a ppm I the (ears had start ed (n f lie old man's eves, and were fast running down lus sun burnt checks; every feeling o( a father's heart was stirred within him; lie saw the future greatness of his so’i before his eyes; he felt that God find blessed film amt his children beyond the lot of common men; ids pity and sympathy wore awakened hy the eloqneht words of com passion, and Uio strong ujipcal for mercy, and forgetting the .Judge in the father, ho spiang from his chair. (while Dnnitd was In the midst ot his argument, without thinking ho had already won the case,) anil turning to his elder non, dashing the tears from his eyes, exclaimed, •« Y.eUt, Zchf you hi that woodchuck go !" rules. An Eastern paper gives Uio following soason aldo and excellent rules for young men cuiu mencing luiMTiess: , Tho world estimates men hy their success in , lilt*, and by general consent, success is evidence of Hiipeilniity. Never, under any circumstances, assume a responsibility you can avoid consistently with 1 your duly to yourself and others. Base all your actions upon a principle of right 5 preserve your Integrity of character, and in doing this never reckon tho coat. Remember Hud Bclfintafcst Ifl more likely to warp your Judgment than all other clrcmnstan. Oos combined j therefore look well to your duty, when your interest is concerned. ; Never make money at the expense of your reputation'. ( Bo neither lavish nor niggardly; of the two | avoid tho latter. A mean man is cirtiverH.illy ( despised, mil public fa'ei is a stepping stone to ; preferment, therefore generous feelings should bo cultivated. Let your expenses be such an to leavo a bat* anoo in your pocket. Heady money Is ft fnoud In nood. . , Kuop clear ol Uio law; for, oven if you gain yonr oaso, you are generally u losor. Novor rolato your misfortunos, and never grlovo oyer what yon cannot prevent. Thu Mtunino op Words.—Look not J n f° I. 1 ). 0 dictionary for (ho meaning of words. il »» J»o that presents their significance to ns in tlio viv id realities of experience. Does (no young and Joyous maiden know tho moaning.ol Bor row, or tho Inoxporlened youth understand (ho significance of business »>>«»ryJ As c tho hoa ry horded debauchee for the delintllon of re morse,and to go bedside of the invalid for t proper understanding of health. Life with In ner experience, rovoalsdoms tlmnoworful force of words, and writes nptn tho tabio of mir hearts tho Ineducable records of their moaning, aan Is a dictionary, and humane experience, alter nil, tho great lexicographer. Hundreds go through life who do not understand tho force of tho most common terms \ while to others the r torible afgniftcano eonm* homo »ko an electric flash, and sends a thrill to tho rowost part of (ho*sy B t® m * Death-Bed of Dr. Franklin. The following was obtained from the Rev. Dr. Uolnmth, of tHe German Church, Philadel phia. Hearing that this learned and pious di vine possessed a valuable anecdoleof i)r. Frank- ] liu. I immediately wailed on him. “Yes sir.” ; said he. “I have indeed a valuable anecdote of I Dr. Franklin, which T would tel) yon with! great pleasure: but ns 1 do not speak English i very well. I wish yon to call on David Ritter, at-tlie sign of Urn •Golden Lamb,’ m From; street, lie will tell it to you belter.” I bast- i oned to Mr. Ritter, and (old Inin my errand I He seemed niigbiily pleased at it. and said. | “Yes I will tell you all 1 know of it. Yon | , must understand then, sir. first of all. that Ij always had a prodigious opinion of Dr Frank j lin. as llie u*rfulf<t man wo ever had among , i ns. by a long way; and. hearing that lie was 1 sick, I thought I would go and see Inin. As I i | rapped at the door, who should come and open , it but old Sarah Humphries. I was right glad , to sec her. for I had known hei for u long lime. She was of the people called Friends: and a good sort of body she was 100. The great peo ple Set a heap of storm by her. for she was fa mous throughout the town for nursing and | lending on the sick. Indeed, ruunv of them, I j believe, thought they could not sicken and die 1 right, if they had not old Sarah Humphencs i with them. Soon ns she saw me, she said, i | “Well, David, how dost?” | i “O. much after the old sort, Sarah ” said T 1 “but that's neither here mu there; I am come , to see Dr. Franklin ’’ 1 '•Well then." said .sin-, “thou art 100 lute for lie is jii't “Alack a day!" said I, “then n great man is gone.” “\es, indeed, snul she, and a good one 100 ; for it smned us though he mver thought ih4 day went away if hr hid not done sumihodv service. However. Hnvid.” said she, “he is not the worse oil tor all that now, where he has gone to; but us thee cutne to sc Ik-nj Frank lin, ihee shall see him wl." Anil so she took ine into his room. As we entered she pointed fo him. where she lay on His bid, and said. “Mere, did thee ever sec anything look so nut uiaH” “And he did look natural indeed. His eyes were dosed -but that yon saw he did not . breathe, you would have thought he were in a I sweet sleep, he looked so calm and happy Observing that his (aee Mas li\id right toward the chimney. I east my eyes that way, and be hold’ jus*, above the mantle piece \uis a noble picture. o,it was a noble picture, sure enough* It was the picture of our Saviour on the cross. I could not help culling mil. “Bless lib all, Sarah." said I. “what’s all tins?" “What dost mean, David?" said she quite crusty. “Why, how came this pielurc here, Sarah?" said I. “you know that many people think he was not nfier this sort." Yes,*’ said she, "I know that 100. But' spirit alone can he nllribuled his Qmil triumph thee knows that many who make a great fuss and accession lo the Scottish throne. Among aßout religion have very little, while some oilier adventures related of Ins wanderings, the I who say but little about it, have a good , following is pteserved m Scottish legend ; 1 Ideal.” i It was near night, when coming upon a cot-| \ “That’s sometimes the case, 1 fear, Sarah,” \ tage lie boldly entered it, when* he found the ‘ j Baitl 1,--’ - * llmialrcss, an old true-hearted Scotswoman, sit- T' -y'Wefr. iiTid (fmC-wns-Uho cdst?; n < Kp’ng'aJbtie. >l/pon aechiff a strangcrcnter sho 7 “wil/i Bcnj. Frank/m. But bo t/ia t ns it may’, flaked fum who and what 'he was. The kfrig I David, smeo thco asks me about this great [answered that ho was a traveller, who was picture, I 'll tell you how it conic hero. Many ; journey mg through the country, wevks ago, ns lie lay, he beckon'd me to him, | "All travellers,'said the good woman, 'arc and (old me of his picture up stairs, and beg- j welcome here fur the sake of one.’ ged I would bring it to him. I brought it to) ‘Ami who is that one,’said the King, ‘for him llis face brightened up a> be locked ni whose sake \ou make all ttateliers welcome?’ I it; find he said, “Aye, Sarah' lluru is a pie-’ ‘Jim our lawful king, Ilobeil the Bruce,’) lure worth looking at I that's the picture of 1 answered the tnislnss, 'who is the lawful lord j him who came into the world to burn men to of this country; and although he is now pur-■ love one another Then after lookmg at it • surd and hunted after with hounds and horns, I wistfully for sometime he said. “Sarah, set | hope lo h\e lo see him king over all Scot this picture up orer the mantle piece, right be. bind.' fore me as 1 he. f.,r 1 like lo look nl it: and ’ Since \nu love him so wul, dame,’ said the when 1 lived it up, be looked at it, very much; j king, ‘know llial you see him before you. I and indeed, ns thou sees I. he died with Ins eyes am Robert the Bruce.' fixed on it.” —Phtlutlrljtlnii Mrnhmit. j on !' said the good woman, in great Rur j piw; -and uheiefore are you thus alone? ! where me nil your men? 1 LIFE AS IT IS. I.cl mi mi firmiun <l.mn 11..,. «lrwl 1 '' "' ll ' mc , nt Hiis moment,' nn an>l SL-u «hul mu cju luuin. VmuliT is Hi.- »n-di [m< md linin', mmi tliwforu 1 must travel of .1 lll.m’s Bull. 110W.19 permitted ht gIOW 1||); aloUC*.’ without employ iiiynl. went ami eamc as lie' ‘Uul that shall not he. suiJ the brave old pleased, and spent bn lime in Hie gialillc.inuii 1 datm'. •fur 1 have two stout sons, gallant and of spontaneous passions. demies uml mcliua- i (nisiv men, wlio shall he your sen ants for hie lions, with no one to elm 1; Inin, w lit-n Ins emirs-* t uml death.’ was uul, or ctieoniiige Inin in the wui sof wis-; sj 0 s |, e brought her two sons, and though doin His fat In- 1 «as in h. and I*>r I hat i eiisou w c [| |, llc w ihe dangers to winch she expos- Ihe son thought InMuid nolhiiig to do, no pail ( ~| t she made them swear fidelity to the in homsi labor iu pi iluim Iking: and t hev afterwards became high oflkers 11, Iho lalluM dii'-l. ami the son mlmilied a 1 |, lf> Mn ICL .. ’ port ion ol Ins abundant we illh, and ha ring mi • I ‘ _ __ _ or earned moiifj hy honest Iml, In-l;rn w not tin* ! vi r u« n ft Mt Vnmp value of it, amt iumug no k now ledge ot hust i Mf,KC 0,1 JHS . ~ new, 1... Uuwm.t how l„ ,1." il, ... 1... K ..t.. Mi. Higjimi »»» « 'my |;mi. liuil man In all loose i eins to Ins appetites uml passions, and Mils frummcHon* through Ji/e- He nmntwed a ran at a i.u.id puee down the broad ...ad to dm. \ largo propmly by untiring Indus!ry nml pmictu sipulion. Sow behold him —a broken down l ably; imd at Hie advanced ago ol ninety years man, bow.-d with in 11 rin l ly . a nine wieek ol .he« as resting .|im th lux hed and ealnily I wlmt he was. both plnsicallv and mentally.-- 1 waiting f.. be railed away. He had deliberate. His mom'} is gone ami be li’ves on the chanty | ly made almost oiery arrangement lor the dc of those whose hearts me open with pity.— , reuse and bunai. ....... Such is Hie late of hundreds Hml are bum lo , Ills pulse giew fainter, nml tho hgh of life ftirlttno. ( just flickering in Hs uockel, w hen one And there on the opposite side in that com- of Ids sous observed— , foldable nmm.lon. In os the sou ol a poor cob-, '•halher, you wid probably Inc hula day >J ler. Killeen years ngo he lull the bumble mom two , is ll uol well lor you to name y oar bear* of bis pireiita, ami went lortb into Hie broad ' ors ?” , wo: id alone to sock Ids lortuno. All his tion- j “To he «iiro, my sou.’ said the dung man, sun's consisted of his chest of tools, u good 1“U is well thought of and 1 will it: i«*w -1 knowledge of his trade, honest principles. 1 He gave a Us. «l m. ' ’ dual) tons habits, and lw enly-tlvo coppers, how sank bark ex Imiistod ■! <>ni I I • „ I,m!. „m owner ~f tlml .-1.*...! .mumim, I, .... Arf-m ' “"S",. “.Von.. ing a thriving business, possesses an unbroken )ud lace like a ray oi b , ! “•• r »r ,s ' ,amo ol I,ly Hml Hml dm mo« «n »«• o( | •• 1 , ».»■«... z a majority of the do.scond.uita of mnlhvrily in | cession a whole horn. bilonts, live a sliorl time like drones on Hu- la- ■ ' hur of others, and them go down to unlnnely | HOjlC. grains. When stnrs forvakc (he sullen sen, What a los‘:on should this ho In those who \VI, C n rams descend ond winds nriso, are by all moiui.s, by imr "" > uC ‘ i Somp ruL .| { u s „ )Ul y bower may bo ,m ir .« l e u«. •«.£ , regulai hftblta of industry, very ninny ot them j ( rnr k„ mjr slops in every stage, would ho saved Irom tntomporanco, misery and An<l makc|( fonntft i D , n the wild ; nn untimely ond. | lt m j ng | es W uh the UioughlHof ugc, The rapture of a child. Wincu ia tub W bauer Skx f—A question of j pT.'ori.rTtair’v!; .!?■ WhKh* ' U sbods on joy a richer glow; -> *• B “ wcred by,h °«.s; FomalU aro ‘called (ho weaker »ox, but, Will sumctiinea prove as cold. I ',u,nt r P xr,‘i:-cr, B n' \ «» ti v «„ from «.«-1 ami'incase tl.c whole In a Bloat overcoat, to.lint Why, if we were to Bend a baby m a railway out nio ooltl. woman, in thin Bilk drc-sHCR, Wilb , trnin, going incessantly 100 miles an hour, ueok uni) shoulders bare, or nearly bo, say they without making any stoppages, the baby urn Movlcclly comfortable ! When men wear wou m grow to ho a boy—the boy would grow water proof boots over woolen hose, ami btouso j lo R man—the man would grow old and die thn whole In India-rubber, to keep them from ; .without seeing the sun. for it Is distant more IVoe/diig, women wear thin Bilk bos«, ami cloth t^ftU years from us. But what is this shops, and protend not to feel llio cold) « bon com|)fvrct | w jth Neptune’s distance? Had Adam mon cover lliolr hearts with furs, ““J ,h 0" o “™' and Evo started by a railway to go from Nap liruig a° bonnet at tho’baek of yi'.^Nbp-; not'to au'lrL'Tat ann'* ' , lone’l- more tbau 0000 yen, from the centre | i i - |of our system. Oy~ When roai nobloncri nccomptmios the c wioMvl*ools inako fbolr car Imaginary ono of birth, Iho Imaginary bo.'ina to fnlrcoi fuco. mix with the real, and becomes real too. rlngt roau in AT $2,00 PER ANNUM NO. 40, A TRIE Ml If I shall describe n living man. a man that hath hfc that distinguishes him from a fowl or a bird, that which gives him a capacity next to angels ; we shall find that even a good man lives not long, because it is long before he is horn to this life, ami longer yet before he hath a man's growth. He that can look upon death, ami see iis face with the same countenance with which he hears its story ; that can endure all the labors of his life with his soul supporting his ho<ly : that can equally despise riches when he hath them and when he is poor and hath ! them not; that is not sadder if they lie in his 1 neighbor'a trunks, nor more braggart if they shine round about bis own walls ; he that is never moved with food fortune coming to him or going from him ; they can look upon anoth er man’s lands evenly and pleasantly as if they , were his own, and yet look upon his own and ( use them, ton, just as if they were another 1 man's : that neither spends Ids goods prodigal- ! ly, and like a fool, nor jet keeps them avari ciously and like a wretch; that weighs not' bcnclilH by weight and number, but by the' mind and circumstances of the giver ; thfit nev- I cr thinks his chanty expensive if a worthy i | person be the receiver ; be that does nothing! i for opinion’s sake, hut everything b>r con-' : science, being as curious of bis actings in , markets and theatres, and in as much awe of l himself as of a whole assembly ; he that knows Ch'd looks on, ami contrives Ids secret affairs ns in the presence of (.'od and his hoiv angels ; 1 that eats and drinks because he needs it, not that lie may serve a lust or load his stomach ; j he that is beautiful and cheerful to his friends, I and chanlalile and apt to forgive his enemies ; j that loves Ids country and obeys his rulers,ami desires and endiMUois nothing more than to do honor to (»od ; this person may reckon his life 'to he the life of a man.ami compute his months not by the course of the sun. but by the zodiac aml circlt of bis virtues ; because these arc such things winch fooU and children .and birds, and beasts, cannot have. These me therefore the actions of life, because they arc the seeds of immortality. That day upon which wo have done sonic excellent thing, we may ns truly ] reckon to be added to our life, ns were the fif teen jears to tbe days of Ile/.ekiah. Jb.'/iop Tuyloi . Ancnlolc of Robert Rrueo. During ihe long struggle of Robert Bruce, Karl of t'nriiek, for the throne of Scotland, at the lime when King Hdwaid of England was endeavunng to bring thcOnehc kingdom umier lus yoke the bravjo Hiuce was Imjucnlly hard beset -!iis friends defeated, scattend, and him silf eotnpeUed to wonder atone in the forests.— Surrounded by foreign foes and treacherous countrymen, almost any other man would have been disheartened, and submitted to what ap peared to tie his destiny. But he was not, and to Ins indomitable perseverance and clmalric Tho lake of Fire,' . U ii', ; The following description of a lakoufflre.ln the crater of a volcano of the Sandwich! Island, will bo read with interest: , ”j . .’' "But the whole bad not yet been been. 1 Not having been able to reach the lake frora below wc resolved to approach and l6okop&n it from above. In the face of tho cold, driving raid storm, Mr. Hussey, (tny very agtoeablo travel* ing companion,) the guide and myself pefeoat on foot for a walk of live miles to a distant point. The whole body of the crater was Bill of steam ond smoke, and doqbts ttvqrc ttfplfess cd whether wc could got a view of the bottom; but on wo went, trusting for belter things, in which we were not disappointed. ; i ■ k*.IT Before reaching the bank above tho lake, and while it was hid from view, wc distinctly hear the sound of its lashing waves, soUkc,and yet so unlike.the breaking of the surf upon tho ocean’s whore., There was the mingling sound of rushing waters with its own aqaj}, heavy, missing one. A moment moru and-yfo stood upon the brow of the perpendicular wall of a thousand feet, olid directly above tbe lake, and there «c sat ourselves silently upon the rocks to look down upon it. It differed frotn all wc had seen before. The luridllgbtof the previous night was gone, and the beautiful pic tures which helped to make up that scene wig absent: but in their stead were others inoriap palling and full of terrors. Here in close pros* ■ unity and plain sight was ‘a lake of burning j lire, may be unquenchable, and it only requir ed the wails of the tormented to complete (Ho dread description of hell. The lake was in size some half a mile in di ameter. nearly round; its surface was-raging will) great violence, nod was. when unbroken, hlach and dark, but when agitated violently,aa the centre was continually, its color was blood red. Every few moments the lava would bo thrown up at least fifty f«et in jets, and Ihtti, as if lashed into fury, great waves would chase each other, boiling and foaming red with heat, if not in auger. Strange sounds saJutwLtfyo [ ear, as welllas fsl range sights the eye. Occa -1 sionnlly loud reports were heard: then the peed | liar sound of escaping steam at once, OS' if ’a 'i thousand boilers were blowing oft their pent up 1 steam at once, ami thu dead, heavy sound of j the disturbed lava was continuous. Take it altogether it was decidedly the most startling scene I had ever witnessed. Just be\oml the burning lake was tho great cone, now black as night, from which the in- Icnsdy brilliant light had shone the night be fore. Fit chimney, indeed, for the prchcncallb Its proportions were gigantic, its capacity fin* incn.se, and it was belching forth at intervals vast volumes of smoke and steam, mad'eup a grand but an awful picture, impossible to aeg enhe, hut never to be foigotten. On onr return from llic view of the lake Wo passed tho sulphus banka. They arc located about a quarter of a mile from the upper bank of the crater, on a slightly depressed plain or , Milley. They arc less than a half a mile in 1 length and are full of holes, through which hot j steam is issuing, nnn about which beautiful i crystals of sulphur arc banging. In scouring j seme specimens I burnt my Unger# in the steam. The natives call this bank of sulphuC Pelq’p Dunghill. * All along the bank and in some places half a mile distant from the CraLCr arc hole# andilsr aures in the rocks, from which steam Is con stantly issuing burning hot. The ground hear (ho crater is strewn all over with Pole's a Hue thread of glass or melted sand thVown up from llie volcano and blown into minute atten- uated threads bv the wind. They arc in color brown and much resemble “aubum ,, -ha»r; and hence the name. They cover the ground Ifk£ cobwebs but arc very brittle, and it require# care to gather them up. The Mother ami the Widow. TLo following well portrayed picture wo take i from a religious paper. If theta is a situation 1 which deserves sympathy and comroanda_ re l apect it is that of tbo mother left by tho loss of I her husband, her earthly stay and support,, to 1 huiTclthc,c)umcDtsp/“fldycrsoiqrtupoalono: “Wo arc slow to acknowledge any womanly character, living or dead, as superior that qf the good such as no find her in all bur communities. She is perhaps called to no tin gle great act of dovutoducss-—but. Iter whole life is a sacrifice for the good of others. How she works to bring up her children. No labor Is too hard. She denies herself every comfort to give them an education. Sbo'would part with her own heart's blood to make them happy. “Tliin devotedness becomes mojTj remarkable wbe it, by donth of tbo father, tho mother is left alone through life. If wo were to busst out to explore thin city, we should And many a poor widow, with live or six little children depend ent upon her, strugling for their support vHth o patience and courage truly heroic. With no incuds to help her, and no moans of support but her needle, she undertakes to provide for her little family. Slio mnkcs her homo In an ntfjc, and there she sits and struggle* with pov erty. No ono comes to soo her. Shot ran on ly the cry of those hungry little motif which call po her for bread. And thob iho tolls all day long, and often half tho nigh that they mny not want. And yol she does not complain. If unly her strength holds out, and her cflols arc nuc.'cssful, her mother's hoart is satisfied and grateful. Sign*. It's a good sign to havfc & man cntcCyQiir office with a friendly greeting—‘'Here's tmk dollars to pay for my paper.” J It's a bud sign to hear a man say he Iff too j poor to take a paper —ten to one ho corricy a jug of "red eye" that cost him holf a doU lor. It's a good sign to see a roan doing an not of chanty In his fellows. It’s a bud sign to hear him boasting of It li's a good sign to sec the color of health in a man’s face. It’s a bad sign to see it all concentrated in his nose. ItV a good sign to see an honest man wear ing old clothes. ll 1 ,, n bad sign to sec them filling holes in his windows. Uy~ A correspondent of (ho Cincinnati ’tit. zetto states that a clergyman in Pittsburg, Pa., lately married a lady with whom ho received the substantial dowry of ten thousand dollars, and a fair prospect for more. Shortly after ward, while occupying (ho pulpit, ho garo ont a hymn, read (he Hist lour verses, and was pep* coodlng (o rend the fifth, commencing, “ Forever let my grateful heart," when ho hesitated, baulked, and exclaimed;— • * Ahem! The choir will omit the fifth torso,’ ” ami sat down. The congregation, attracted by his apparent confusion, road the verso for them selves, and smiled almost audibly as they,redd i r« Forever let my grateful heart 1 Mis boundless grace adoro, Which gives ten thousand blessings tUiWj And bids mu hopo lor more." Spoiling It.—Rather strange things have boon said at and concerning tbo JTaIU of NUfc* <• Isn't it nice,” tald an unUn«£tna(Wo MM* cm man, to a young lady ho mot there, “liq’t nice, Miss?” “Yes,” was the reply, “all is nice, very nice, that that active little biped man-has done or'-is doing!” Still moro.Mrlklng was another foot, ,A'frar* clcr was fully engaged in hla deepest cogltotlop* on the scone, when another nccQstodhlni with “That Is majestic, sir." ' ' -„ .. . .. Thank y*u, »lr,” Mid »"> •««'». word i lUa'mri J "» W' «'r. Il '« I' lo nm | prettiest <Ulo» I»»“r •««■” ; : ' Wliol h falling off was there I ~ * ’. t . An Open Countenance a Sion or IhitoJUNOB. —A recent writer asserts that the Tops a' man knows, the wider ho carries his month-open, lie says It Is imbosslblo for tin'lgnoramus .to keop Ids jawclosed ns Itisfursluk'oysiortd k«p his shell shut. ' ’l"“ J
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers