AMERICAN VOLUNTEER. f fcuBUSUED EVERY THURSDAY MORNIHG BY JoUn B. Bratton. • TEBM.Sv ' <tonsaniPHON. —Ono Dollar fltiu Fifty Cents, liaid in ndvnnco ; Two Dollars If paid within tbo P “Sd Two Dollars nod Titty Cents If not Lid wIIMA thh , year. Those lorma will bo rig idly adhered to In. every instance. No buli horlplion discontinued until all arrearages are balci unless at the option of the Editor. Advertisements— Accompanied by the cash, itid not exceeding ono square, Will bo insorted throo times for Ono Dollar,and twenty-flvocents ior each additional Insertion. Those of a groat tor length in proportion, Job-Printing— Such as Hand-bills, Postlng hllls, Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, &c.,&c.,oxo baled with accuracy and at the shortest notice. |stirtunl. <• NEVER COURT BUT ONE.” I have finished it, the letter, That will tell him he is free; From this hour add forever, 1 He is nothing more to me! And raj’ heart feels lighter, gayer, Since the deed at last is done— t will teach him that'when courting He should never court but one. fevery body in (ho village KriowS he’s been a wooing me, And this morning ho was riding With that saucy Anna Lee. They say he smiled upon her, As he cantered by her side. And I’ll warrant you he promised To make hjr soon his bride. Butl'vc finished it, the letter, From this moment ho is free— lie may have her if he wants her, If ho loves her more than me. He may go—it will not kill inc.— I "would say the same, so there if I knew it would, for flirting, 1c is more than l ean bear. ’ll is twilight and the evening. That he said he’d visit me— but no doubt he’s now with Anna, lie may stay there, too, for me! And as true as I’m a living, If he ever comes here more, I’ll act os if wc never. Never, never met before. It is time he should becoming, , And I wonder if he will; If.be docs I'll look as coldly— What’s that shadow on the hill ? I declare, out in the twilight, There is some one coming near— <Can it be ? yes. ’tin a figure, just os true as T am here. "Now I almost wish I'd written Not to him that he was free, For perlvaps ’iwas but a story That ho rode with Anna Leo. There he’s coming thro' the gate way, I’ll meet him at the door, ■And I’ll tell him st'll Move him, If he'll court Miss Lee no more I JEiwllaiitoiiß, 4 LEGEND OF NEW ENGLISH), fir JOHN a. WHITTIER. t* Shrieks—findish yells—they stab them in Iholr sloop.” 1 One hundred years ago, tho hunter who rang ed the hlHs and forests of Now England, fought against other enemies than the brown bear and the panther. The husbandman, as he tolled in the plain, or the narrow clearing, kept closely -ftthUsldoa hwdod weapon, and wrought dili gently and firmly In the midst of peril.' The frequent crack of the Indian’s rifle was hoard in the still depths of tho forest —the death knell of the unwary hunter j and, over and anon, tho flame of soma departed farm houso, whoso dwellers had been slaughtered by some merci less foe, rose redly upon tho darkness of tho night time. The wild and fiery eyes of tho hea then gleamed through tho thick underwood of tho forest, upon tho passing.of tho worshippers of the only truo God ; ond the war whoop rang shrill and loud under the very walls of the sanc tuary of prayer. Perhaps no part of New England affords a wider field for tho researches of logondry, than that portion of Massachusetts Bay, formerly known as tho province of Maine. There, the ferocious Norrldgowock hold his stern councils, and there, the tribes of the Penobscot wont forth with song (\nd dance to do hnttlo upon tho white loan. There, tho romantic and chivalrous Oas tlno Immured himself In the forest solitudes, and there, tho high hearted Halle—tho mild, gifted Jesuit—gathered together the broken strength of the Norridgcwock, ond built up In tbo groat wilderness a temple to tho true God. There, too, ho perished In tho dark onslaught of the Colonists -perished with many wounds at the very foot of tho Cross which his own hands had planted. And there, tho Norrldgewocks toll one after another in stern and uncompromising pride—neither asking nor giving quarters, ns they resisted tho white spoiler upon tho thres hold of thctrconsocratcd place of worship, and in view of their wives and children. Tho following Is ono, among nmny legends, o( Vlio strange encounters or tho white man and tho Indian, which are yet preserved In tho ancient records and traditions of Maine. Tho simple and unvarnished narrative is only given > “ It was a sultry evening towards tho last of dune, 1722, that Capt. Ilormon and tho Eastern Rangers urged their canoes up tho Kennebec river in pursuit of their onorales. Four hours they tolled diligently at the oar. Tho last traces of civilisation was left behind, and tho long shadows of the skirting forest met and blended bn the middle of the broad dtream, which wound darkly through them. At every sdund from tho adjacent shores—tho rustling wing of some oight bfrd, or tho footsteps of some wild boast —tho dash of the oar was suspended, and the ranger's grasp tightened upon his rifle. All know tho peril of the enterprise j and that si* «nco which Is natural of jeopardy, settled like • cloud upon tho midnight adventurers. “ « men I 1 said tho watchful Bertnon, In n voice which scarcely rose above ® hoarse whisper, ns the canoo swept around a rugged promontory, «there (s a light ahead J* Ail eyes wore bent towards tho shore. A tall Indian’s lira gleamed up amidst tho groat oaks, Casting a red and strong light upon tho dark Waters. For a single and breathless moment the operation of (ho oar was suspended, and kvory onr-listened with pninipl earnestness to batch (he well-known sounds, which seldom I died to Indicate tho propinquity of tho savages. But all was now silent. With slow and faint taovoment of the oar, the canoes gradually ap proached the suspected spot. Tho landing wos effected In silonco. Aflor moving cautiously for a considerable distance in tho dark shadow, ihu party at length ventured within (ho broad circle of tho light, which at first attracted their attention. Horinon was at their head, with an eye and a hand quick as those of tho savage enemy whom ho sought, Tho body of a fallen troo lay across tho path. As the rangers wore on (ho point of leaping over it, tho coarse whimper of Uormon again broke tho nllonoo i '•God of HeavenJ” ho exclaimed, pointing to tho tree. «< Soo hero I—*tls tho work of tbo rod ofcfiisM > A smothered enrao growled upontho lips of tlio rangers, ns they hunt grimly forward In tho direction pointed out by their commander,— Blond was sprinkled on tank grass nnd tho hand of aomo white man lay on tho bloody log. There was not a word spoken, but every conn* tonanco worked with torrlblo emotion. Hud the rangers followed tholr own dospornto Incli nation, they would have hurried onward to tho 'forkof vongoancoj but the example of tho icaaqr, who hipl regained his usual calmness and oir-commond prepared them for a less speedy, ui more certain triumph. Cautiously passing er tearful obstacles In tho pathway, and BY JOHN B. BRATTON. VOL, 43. closely followed by his companions, ho advanc ed stealthily and cautiously upon the light, hiding himself and his party ns ranch as possible behind the thick trees. In a few moments they obtained a full view of the objects ol their search. Stretched at their length around a huge tiro, but at a convenient distance from It, lay the painted and half naked forms of twenty savages I It was evident from their appearance, that they had passed the day In ono of their horrid revels, and that they were now suffering under the ef fects of Intoxication. Occasionally a grim war rior among them started half-upright, grasping the tomahawk as if to combat some vision of his distorted brain, but, unable to sbnko off tho stupor from bis senses, uniformly (ell back into his former position. Tho rangers crept nearer. As they bent their keen eyes along their well tried rifles, each felt perfectly sure of his aim. They waited for the signal of Harmon, who was endeavoring to bring his long mnaket to bear upon tho bead of the most distant of the savages. “ Firel” ho at length exclaimed, as the sight of his piece Interposed lull anddistinct between hfs eye and the wild scalp lock of tho Indian. “ Fire I and rush on.” The sharp voice of thirty rifles thrilled through tho heart of (he forest. There was a groan—a smothered cry—a wild and convulsive move ment among tho sleeping Indians, and all again was silent. The rangers sprung forward with thoir clubbed muskets and hunting knives; but their work was done. Tho Bed Men had gone to their last audit before tho Great Spirit, and no sound was board among them save tho gurgling of the hot blood from tticir lifeless bosoms. Thoy were left unburied in tbo place of their revoMJngs—a prey to tho foul birds of tho air, and tho ravenous beasts oi the wilderness.— Thoir scalps were borne homeward In triumph by tho successful rangers, whoso children and grand children have shuddered long alter, at tho thrilling narrative of tho midnight adventure. False Education, Tho early breaking down into invalidism ot our American women is the subject of frequent remark. Our young maidens arc, as a class, beautiful but delicate, and hardly do hosts of them got out of thoir teens before (boy become mure or less tho victims ot disease. Several of ouf contemporaries, wo perceive, are calling at tention to ono cause of this evil, viz: tho over working of girls at school. Where tho bluino of this Is to bo laid wo are not prepared to say. Wo doubt, however, whether it id all to be put at the doors of teachers, for wo have heard many of them lament it, especially those having charge of public schools. Tho docility, lave of approbation and emulation, quite characteristic of tho sex, taken in connexion with the early ago at which thuy are seated at tho desk, and tho early ago at which they are called from thoir studios, may account for much of the error.— Not only tho acquisition of the common blanches ot education, but likewise the acquisition o< ac complishment, is crowded Into a low years; and Hits, too, with a pruniaturo entrance, oftentimes, Into tbo excitement ot society. Natural conse quences oi this are headaches, crooked spines, dlhordcred nerves, weak eyes, debility, chronic complaints, that occasion more mischief, moral as well ns physical, than many may imagine.— Whul must follow where tho wife and mother is the victim ot ill health, can easily ho fancied. — And how many Instances U»cro.jtfO. Of -this Jll health traceable to the grievous mistakes of pa rental vanity or thoughtlessness, In subjecting mere children to (he Inevitable deleterious ef fects of overtasking the brain, keeping to seden tary pursuits, involving confinement, unnatural positions, unrelieved by vigorous, open air ex ercise 7 This is not a subject on which it is our province, were wo competent to speak in detail. But it is a subject which demands very serious , consideration. It concerns tho prosperity and ( happiness of thousands. It concerns the com-1 fort and joy of numberless horr.es. It concerns i the cause of humanity, Inasmuch as the abuses alluded to threaten to bring on, in some re spects, an alarming degeneracy in posterity— and that posterity only n generation or two be hind ns. The hosts of physicians, tho statistics of tho death of Infants dally occurring, tacts within the observation of otcry one, are all in- I dlcnttvo of a groat wrong, which threatens to produce bitter fruits, to disappoint many of the hopes of a progressive and prosperous civiliza tion.—Boston Courier. Home Yearnings. Tho following extract from "Passages of Eastern Travel,” will meet with a ready re sponse from every heart that has hod its dearest feelings nurtured amid tho gonial influence of homo : “ There Is a fireside in a far off land by which could I but warm ray cold and weary feet to night, I would lie down and sloop such a sleep as God glveth his beloved. Sometimes I think I have not slept for months; and I have not, save only that dreamy, restless sleep, that is tilled with visions of dear faces loofcing on vie through fm/nusaAfsoariorouf of unapproachable distances. And at night, ns I walked along, (ho moonlight, falling all around me out of that fathomless sky, I felt as If to 110 down on the sand would be blessed, and to sloop (here glori ous, if I could but dream once more of homo.” Will not this voice from tho Orient flml an echo in each heart that over roamed from the loved ones at homo I A response from every ono who has sojourned as a stranger in some strange land ? Tos, it will. Tho sentiment is one kindred to (bo loveliest feelings of tho hu man heart. * What a beautiful thought is tho ono wo have given in italics. It suggests so many pleasant memories, so many cherished associations (hut steal over (ho heart like sweet music, soottiing is balm ami sweat as tho odor of roses. Tho traveler stood before a Temple throe thousand years old. Tho ruins wore eloquent with (ho name and fafno of ttio great Sososlrls; and yet, standing (here In tho moonlight, upon tho glittering sands of Egypt, and by the side of the swift flowing, wonderful Nile, oven there, with anxious heart, tho IJowadjii turned his thoughts toward a Jar oft' land, and a homo around which clustered associations so dear, .' v , 1 ; 1 . 0 ' 1 w«> « «lvrino eo wictod. Wlrat ' ‘“A, 1 f ° COS 0f 11,0 COloMol .l.tllCl looking upon tho moonlit aconcry around, and upon hlm~-tho sight seekers of another contl nontf Other flicos “ through Impassable liars” looked In upon him “out of unapproachable distances,” and those with their old time asso clntions, were forgotten. This «• thought of a kingly Intellect” gave way to a thought more humble but also more potont for good. , But not alone from Egyptian ruins come those yearnings for homo. Bayard Taylor tolls us of thorn as ho traveled tho places of Central Afll eai and oven ho, who has ho on but. a day’s journey flora “that spot of sweetest sanctities, tho spot called Acme,” ns Dr. Chapin terms It, has experienced (ho same sensations, although perhaps less intense. 3v**Agood understanding with a bad will makes a very unhappy conjunction. That is an unlucky wit which is employed to do ovil— Knowledge will become folly, if good scenes do not take care of It. [C7“ Thoro Is this difference between those two temporal blessings, health nnd money ; money Is tho most envied, but tbo least enjoy ed : health Is tho most enjoyed, but tbolcast en vied. (fy* Ono moment! what nn effect it produces upon years! Ono moment! virtue, crime, glo ry, woo. rapture, rest upon it! Death ItselTis but a moment, yet eternity is its successor. “OUR COUNTRY—MAY IT ALWAYS DB'JtIOHt —BUT EIGHT OR WRONG, OUR COUNTRY.” ,'f- . . 1 ' lir Castles. Of all acts of folly, that expressed by tho phrase, “ building castles in the air,” is most consummate. There ore thousands who employ theh thoughts In this species of architecture— They are not contented with their night dreams, but they encourage day dreams also—and thus . they dream, druum, droom, to their sorrow ! They build ensiles in Imagination, which fUH*ns soon as erected. Like the house of tho silly man mentioned in tho Scriptural allegory, they build on an unstAblo foundolion. But they are oven more silly. Ho built his house on tho “ sand.” Thn wind and flood were required to demolish it. They build on “ air,” and the first breath of experience brings their castles tumb ling and crashing about their ears. A little forecast, as tho dictate of common sense, would have prevented (he sorrowful catastrophe. As it is, they must pay (he penally, and suffer. To tho young there is no mental habit more unfortunate (ban this of building air castles— unless, indeed, it be a degree of intellectual la ziness which would prevent their thinking at nil. Such airy speculations would, perhaps,' bo better than none. But, in a state of society like the present, (hero is really no excuse for tho building of air castles under any supposable circumstances. Tho ago is full of enterprise, and of material for useful thought. It may do lor tho spider, of whose gossamer castles tho old dilly sings— “ And, when she secs ’TIs broke by the hreezo, She weaves the bright tissue again.” But it is unworthy of men and women, who should bo leading lives with more rational mo tives and better results I For the habit of alr-castlo-buildlng, we know of no butter remedy than the following words, attributed to a learned Brahmin i ** In all thy desires, let reason go before thee, and fix not thy hopes beyond tho bounds of probability. So shall success attend thy un dertaking, and thy heart shall not be vexed with disappointment.” First Things. A French paper has an amusing orticle. de scribing minutely the successive first things that happen to q man in tho course of his life— his first hours as a new born baby, his first troupers, his first day at college, his first scho lastic prize, his first cigar, his first love letter, his first swcelhart. And then, coming to his various experiments in the way of profession, it describes his first cause as a lawyer, his “caso” as a doctor, his first battle as a soldier. It then proceeds io his first wedding night his first child, his first grey hair, his first wrinkle, his first rejcciion as on admirer, his first pn r of spectacles, his first rheumatism, ond—his first grave! Tho Parisian view of tho approach of old age is the most amusing part of all lids, and wo omit llie long list of lirsilings, till wc come to the , . , First Grey Hair —Adolphe carefully plucks It out. lie has no sooner done it than another appears at its side. A pest on thcml It is just like a turrel of applet—as soon as one is rotten the wlioie lot is spoiled. -Oh. thou drcssing-glass, in which Adolphe has for so long seen reflected a youthful and fresh face every morning say, do you recognize him now 1 •It fs-fndeedtho <Wco handsotaff TttJkfi*ailinfr r oW’ fellow with tho careworn countenance, the blu ish hollow under the eye, tho dulled complex ion. and The first Wrinkle I — lt starts from the left j eyebrow and coils over the right eyebrow with i a serpentine inevitaWaness. Ah. that trilling ! furrow ! Of how many illusions is it the grave, i of how many pleasures—of how many hones ! But, cheer up ! After all, it ts but a wrinkle 1 And a wrinkle docs not prevent you from drinking, nor from laughing, nor from loving, ay. and there have been instances of it not pre venting a man from being loved ! Yet. a little while, and Adolphe gets beyond even this pos sibility, and meets with The First Repulse of his Admiration —Alas! he is no longer agreeable to woman! But ho can luxuriate in the past. Me can lock his door ami stealthily rc-color his faded illusions by reading over ngoin tho love letters of former days! But soon again ibis occupation of his solitude flngSj in interest, and, instead of let ters to read, he has another companion to at tend to— If is first Rheumatism —This enemy steals on. with its slow and sure approaches toward the crude!. And with it come sleeplessness, loss of appetite, cough, deafness, blindness, gout in the stomach -invisible sappers and miners who gradually and certainly make their fatal advan ces, till, finally, the great foe. Death, has hut to look around the ruins of the place. lie is gone to //is first grace—and hia heirs place a hand some and heavy stone over it, to be sure that he will not return. And so, drop the curtain!— The farce is over! Our Houses.— Wo always look upon our houses as mure tomporaiy lodgings. Wo are always hoping to got larger and finer ones, or are forced some way or other to live whore wo do not cliouso, and in continual expectation of changing our place of abode. In tho present statu of society this is In a great measure una voidable; but let us remember it la an ovll, and that so lar as It is avoidable, it becomes our duty to check the impulse. It is surely a, sub ject for serious thought, whether It might not be better for many of us, if. In attaining a cer tain position in life, wo determined, with God’s permission, to chooso a house in which wo would live and die—a homo not to bo increased by adding stone to stone and fluid to field, but which being enough for all our wishes at ono period, we should bo resolved to be satisfied with forever. Consider this, and also, whether wo ought not to bo more In iho habit of seeking honor for our descendants (him our ancestors j thinking it better to bo nobly remembered than nobly born ; and, striving to livo that our son’s sons, for ages to come, might still lead their children reverentially to tho doors out of which wo have boon carried to (ho grave, saying, “ Look, this was his house j this was his cham ber.” Bovino Husbands. — A modern traveller tolls us that tho Jowessos In Thossalonlca (European Turkey) rovsrso our accepted Jaws of Hymen, by purchasing (heir husbands. Tho modus op«r anrfi is thus described i Brokers nro employed to negotiate marriages, l no father of a marriageable girl goes to a broker ana Inquires what bridegrooms tbeto are In tbo market, no chooses one, higher or lower In tho social.scale, according to tho dower ho c,nn afford his daughter, tho pneo bo can pay, and makes an ofler of so much dower. Thy brldo groom, through tho broker, demands more t they chaffer and bargain for weeks, perhaps, and a bargain Is struck. Tho parties never boo each other (ill married. Thqdoftcr lathe with’*only security against dkorco. Tho husband cun di vorce her when ho chooses, but ho must pay buck the dower, that sho may bo able to buy another husband. Mra. I), was tolling a Jewish girl that wo did not require imydoworln Ameri ca. “ How then,” skid she, in utter astonish ment, “ do you do when ho wants to divorce you?” ICTIIo limb is proud, cals up himself; pride is his own glass, his qwh trumpet; his. own chronicle; and whatever praises Itself but In the deed, devours the deed in tbo praise. RLISLE, PA., |PifURSDAY, APRIL #71557. from Waverlbj's Magazine. tde^iind. It ha£ been said, ami truly, that ‘‘man is composed of mind nr)d;VMcr, n and.yet they are so closely' related that each influences tlie other, or that ther.c is Amfixisting sympathy bo* tween them, so that arf orte is affected so Is the other. If the body becotne so diseased that the physical man totters under the severity of the stroke, the mind, thrpntih Hie relationship ex isting between it and'.tho. body, often becomes so deeply aflectcd tbAt.(ier nn E cmcnt ensues— The diseased manioc exhibits lees alienation of mind as the body resubits a.more healthy tone, and the utter eradication.’of the disease from the physical,.is the wntchwflfd for Reason to again lake possession of the thtonoßhe so madly ab dicated. and sway her dictatorial sceptre over the n,o tal man . \ > Mental aberatioh often results from oilier causes than a diseased of the body. Loss of friends, joss of propcHy, fright, excess of grief, or joy, often rcsuftQu alienation of mind: out bore the nature of-Unrigs is reversed; the physical man teds the shojcK and reels under its effects, as the mental mitt feels .the shock occa- i sioned by the disease of>tße body and reels un der its effects. . Thus it# with the science of Mesmerism, or almual nstfgnctiam. Mind acts on mind. In..McsinefUnftthc attention of the! operator is directed lowanfl the subject, and. as electricity can go as far'and almost ns quickly i as the mind can go, the electric current which is continually einßnallng’frora, and surround- 1 ing man in all his founts upon the cur rent of thought and passc|ffrom one to iheoth cr : the electrical fluid permeates the nervous system of the subject and,brings it under the control of the operator. V • [ Two persons may boirtaroom together: a, ; topic that has till then remained foreign, may I i l>c on the tongue of one, arid to his utter asion- 1 ishment the same subject'be introduced by the other simultaneously with himself, thus eviden-1 cing that mind acts un mind. I Man travels in thought,'or mind, to distant spheres, and wings his flight through illmnt-, able space in a moment pf time—steps from earth to Paradise and breathes, in imagination, the salubrious air and frokrant odors of that genial clinic, while he is plMding through mud and mire the distance of’apd. Every man is possessed-*? a mind : but. ns the plum grows<op unrestrained and becomes the bad or crooked tree—or.-lhc stream, without i the guidance of on meanders j through the vale, rumbling oVer precipices, and i pursues a rough, serpentine course, until it readies its destination, so the child grows up through youth to nianhood| )f the mind is left to resolve itself at random‘into whatever the passions may dictate. Aa the plant needs the piaming-knift* to detach Uk.rough, uncouth shoots, and the training, nurlprinu care of the . nurseryman to give it form aßit grows up to tio 1 a giant tree, so must the nmvl bonurtured and trained in childhood, and from childhood to manhood, to give it proper sliape. The person who neglects' the cultivation of bis mental powers, and lea veil them to be devel oped at random, or swayed hi* every evil influ ence and passion, purstic&d,course that must consequently make him the pri- TFori b?gSTfbWTTToiTTaTn&wj/fa controThr's mind, lie has let) it to bo control lcd)by bis pas sions, which, through want or proper cultiva tion, hove become perverted' to tho worst de gree. - Tho man of mind is he who, by right culture and training, has learned to govern his passions. He not only iravcrscH in thought the planetary system, but studies the planets themselves, learns their relation to each other, their distance from our mundane sphere,- Ihcir changes, itc. He does not exert his mental energies in gaining an influence over others that he may sway them at his will, and lead them at pleasure wither soever his own ungovernable passions would guide him : but seek io grin such influence that those around may bcdnSuced to forsako the wrong and choose the ri^t—that others may be henefUted by his example and precepts. The man of mind doesaiot strive to gain in formation that ho mayirsoKriro it up in his memory and monopolize it to/juriiself, but that ho uinv thus be enabled to fmpdrt a port ion to his fellows, knowing that, :'aa every act has a reaction, the reaction iiponhhnsclf will bo hop pifying and beneficial in its tendency. To Mim it all up. ihc man of mind makes a proper use of those talents that on All-wise Providence has committed to his trust. The Bellow of the Sea. The following description of the bottom of the sen. jk from n recent Iccturo delivered by Lieutenant Maury, before the Lotvel Institute: “As lo the character of the bottom they left that to the fane.) of the poets and the dreams of the prisoners. They pictured its bottom as slimy, scattered over with wedges of gold, great anchor, heaps of pearl, incslimobloslones. and valued jewels, a thousand wrecks, and a thousand men that (ishef.gnawed up." “But Brooks’ lend tells another talo, no wrecks, no anchors, no dead men’s bones are scattered on the bottom of the sea. They arc all buried deep down among tho remains of its own dead- The bottom of tho sea is covered many feet deep with microscopic shells, whoso artificers and tenants have lived, sported and died at the surface, and whoso remains ore la* ken by tho current after death, borne away to the distant regions, and deposited at tho bot tom as lightly and gentle as tho frost in ns chamber. Everywhere, in every lone, In the coral sea, in the North Pacific,,in tho stormy Atlantic, wherever this admirable sounding rod has been, it has brought up the evidence of death and repose. The shells are perfect, and though they winy have been lying there in cold obstruction for ages, yet their color and their looks aro ns fresh and os bright as though the pale hand had never been near them.” :'A single quill can bring up at one cast thousands and millions of these shells, which, os individuals, the most powerful microscope alone will recognize. In life they csoapo our keenest scrutiny, and it is not therefore, till Wo explore the depth of the sea, examine the bottom of the ocean, and survey Its dead as they strew it all over many feet thick with their skeletons, wq can' fully realize how faith fully and literally these little creatures, ns well ns tho great waters, had obeyed. and arc to this day' obeying, the ordcp that-was given them on tho fifth day of creation. Norwegian Fishermen.— -It la Interesting to .see tlio Norwegian fishermen In Choir best dress *os on shore. They wear leather broodies, with pearl or metal hullpns, and ribbons ut fho knoosj their vests, ami Jackets, uml coats are also ornamented with rows of buttons, &c.— Their stockings are white, tliu shoes frequently sabots scooped nut of a solid piece of wood.— They liuvo high conical huts,' mill very long flowing hair. Their wivds and daughters have dark stuff gowns, with upon bosoms, and red vesta, with tjnnol ornaments, and a colored or gilt girdle. They wear n white apron, and a jieculiiir kind of fillet on tlio lioad. Thoir hnlr is often plaited In long tails, gathered at tho back of (ho head, and hound with red bnuda.-t- Sonib times they wear cloth Jackctallko tho iuod, ~~TaiVt Magaxint, Prom IVaverly's Magazine. : ASSOCIATION. How dees association endear to our hearts objects which without it aro worthless. Even as some ruined building is adorned and render ed beautiful by the clinging ivy when its own beauty has departed. Almost every one has sonie sucli treasure with which arc connected a thousand little incidents of their life. One re members a clear dancing brook, where in boy. ish glee ho had sailed lus little boat with as much piide as he now guided one of the most gigantic steamers over the billows. And even now, though a distinguished captain, he looks back with emotion to those bright summer af ternoons whence arose his first dreams of sea life, from which he has arisen to so high n de gree. Some “dear familiar word” falling on the heart of another, expands to volumes, in which are read scenes most sacred, scenes most gay, scenes most sad. scenes most real: yes. real: no book is so true as the book of memory. 1 On another’s car falls some note of “Long ago:” | and as that silver chord again vibrates on the ; heart strings, she can almost catch the strain (not as it echoed from lips now cold in death). 1 hut ns it floats through heaven’s arches, an swered by a thousand golden harps. Very ! many of my associations cluster around the old academy of my native village, and it surely needs this ivy to decorate it. fur it is very ola, and is fas* going to decay. The snows of many a winter have beaten upon its roof; the snow balls of many generations have battered its walls : the sun of many a summer have shone into that room, inviting weary minds to refresh themselves with fragrance and beauty without. Many a peaceful moonlight has shone through i those windows, softening with its mellow light the cruel aspect of those heart-rending problems that remain on the blackboard. Many a laugh has rung through llic hall, calling up upon tho brow of the proprietor of the ferrule no very pleasant expression. Some of these laughs are ringing yet: some arc chan ged to tears, ami some arc hushed to silence.— Many feel have trod that now dilapidated stair case. Some arc still treading the busy paths of life, and some are at rest forever. But is the academy now deserted ? Are the echoes all silent ? Arc the seats all vacant ? Oh no ! Others, younger and gay hearted, occupy the desks which once wet ours ; and should we dire to claim them now. we should be deemed intruders. Then.’ said Iho dress maker, very positive ly. 'it will be- necessary for Madame to omit the dinner.’ And to this desperate resolve Madame dc K consented. She took the dress maker home with her, ordered a dozen oysters, and a bottle of Bordeaux, and. sent an apology of headache. She would make her appearance in time for the dance. •Twelve oysters !* exclaimed the modeste, os she saw her customer go at them voraciously. ‘Please, Madame, omit one! Eleven arc as many as your corsage will admit! Alas. Mad ame. the last oyster takes up a great deal of 11 see those \vho have gone out to benefit the | room ! world with the education lure received, some to I 'Eleven be it. then! said Madame with a 1 plant the " Rose of Sharon” in a fnrr, K n land. \ »>«•>• And leaving the longed-for ultimatum The literary productions of others form, iho on the plate, she completed her toilette for the choicest volume In our libraries- the fruits of evening. . that most dreaded task —composition-writing. Her friends found her figure charming her Oh way the academy long stand and send forth waist as light as ever—herself paler 'than she many more characters os noble and useful as it used to be. but still otherwise unchanged, can now boast of having formed. Many rell- And the gnawing sensation of unappease hun gious associations, also, are connected with the 6 er which she had all the evening, was consol i)ldLACadcniy._oncL these aradenrerthaq any. fd tlm compliments to her unnvallcdTdrefls. chffffcw ifdl-rttarnilKrtri and-MiU. bcamifurMffiSf! mot, to receive instruction Crofri those lips which, Hitt another oyster would hare burst the lacing arc now cold /n dcath-- But his teachings still of the adorable oorsogo 1 And, (moral I) to live, wo trust in the hearts of many, and how forego that twelfth oyster should be taught la often hearts have been molted by his words off the discipline of female academics. 1 love and tender affection, ns when he taught us that all things here arc fading, falling and dy The walk is one continued record : and. as I look down the long vista of departed years, and see “ Friends that now are scattered, Like roses in bloom, Some at llie bridal, Some ut the tomb.” log. lie bade us seek an interest in that temple above, that building of tiod. that house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. Goon Sucikty.— It should bo tho aun of young men to go into good society. Wo do not mean tho rich, tho proud and fashionable, hut the so- 1 cioly ol thp wise, tho intelligent and good.— Whore you (Iml moil Hint know more than you do, ami from whoso convermilion one cun gain information, It is always sutu to bo found. It has broken down many a man by associating with the low and vulgar—whore tho ribald song was inculcated— and tho Indecent story, to ex cito laughter ami infiuoncu the had passions. Lord Clarendon has attributed his success and happiness in fife, to associating with persons umro virtuous (ban himself. If you wish lo bo wise and respected—if you dosiro happiness and not misery, wo advise you fo associate with the Intelligent ami the good. Strive for mental ex cellence and strict integrity, and you will never he found in the sinks of pollution, and on tho honchos ot (he retailers and gamblers. Onco habituate yourself lo n virtuous course—once secure a love of good society, and no punish ment would be greater (ban by accident to bo obliged for halt a day to associate with the low ami vulgar. * Palestine. — In entering Palestine, Mr. Stan ley, in common with all other travelers, was struck witii tho smallness of a territory which tills so largo a space in tho history of mankind. Us breadth randy exceeds tity miles, uhllo Ms extreme length, from “Dan to Deersholm,” is but one hundred and eighty. From almost ovary height in Palestine the entire breadth of tho ter ritory may lie taken in at a view, from tho hills of Moabto the seat and the traveler, oven in despite of previous preparation, is startled (a (Iml that In one long day lie has passed from (he capital of Judea to that of Samaria, or that, In eight hours, ho lias seen “ three such spots ns llobron, Bethlehem, and Jerusalem.” It brings a strange fooling, too, especially after leaving the uncertain topography of the desert, to ar rive suddi nly in the midst of places whoso still existing names have boon familiar to us from infancy, ns the scones of events which wo have never thought of without nwoj—“to hoar tho names of Carmel, Maon, Zlnh, shouted out by tho Bedouin guides, nr by tho plowman in tho fields, who know no more of David's wanderings than those ot Ulysses.” This is tho charm of travel in a classic land. But nowhere Is it fell with half tho security which is enjoyed among tlie unquestioned localities of tho laud ot' tho BIMo. Oun Homes. —Genius hath its triumph, fame its glories, wealth its splendor, success its bright rewards, hut the heart only hath its homo. Homo only I Whnt more noodeth (he heart 7 What more can It gain? A true Home Is more than (ho world—more than honor, and prldo, and fortune—moro than all earth can give—the light, (he noonday sun may not yield, and yet tho tiny flames of one pure beam o( love on* kindloth, and sympathy makes to burn forever. Homo I how more beautiful thou art I how like an untaught religion I a golden link be tween the soul and heaven I when tlio presence of a pure heart makes (boo radiant, and the music of its affection floats like tho chorals of unseen cherubim? around thy tranquil hearth. K 7“ A younger brother had espoused an old and IlMomporod wife, but extremely rich, lie used to say, «< Whenever I find my wife cross, and ray own temper giving way, I retire to my library, and console myself by reading her mar riage settlement. 1 ’ (C T Thcro iu so great a charm In friendship, that there is Crcn a kind of pleasure in ack nowlcdging'oncsclf duped by tho sentiment it inspires. D7Unbounded modesty, more ihnn unavowed vanity? tho too humble obcU unco is sometimes a disguised impertinence. AT 32,00 PER ANNUM NO. 46. The Twelfth Oyster's Difference. Madame dc K , a Russian lady of great consequence, formerly, in the fashionable world, returned lately 10 Paris. She had been absent some years, and of course had been forgotten, but it was now necessary to her happiness that she should re-conqucr her former glories as the I most adorable and best dress of women—par ' tioulorly the latter. She called again upon her [former dress-tnakcr, the most eminent of course | in her successes of toilettes, confided to her the , problem and i:s anxieties. There was to be a I certain ball. Madame de K , wished to appear first at that, in nearly the costume of a Gabrielle d’Eilrees. It was promised. On the morning of the day of the ball, Mad ame called upon her dress maker. The dress was done. It was a miracle of perfect beauty ! Twenty thousand francs* worth of lace reposed softly on folds of fulle, plaited as if by the fin gers of faries. The corsage was truly roorvel ous—but—oh horror! —when it came to be tried on, it was found impossible for Madame de K to enter it! Against the hints and counsel of the dress maker it bad been made upon her old measure. •Oh. desolation inexpressible!' exclaimed Madame.‘what is to be done ? Until cannot be helped. You must set instantly to work and make me another corsage !’ ■lmpossible!’ said the modiste, 'wehave but three hours, and thirty dresses to complete and send home in that lime.' ‘But, would Madame make one more effort V The cflori was made, and. this lime, the cor sage admitted Madame and her enlargements. But she was very (rale, and had recourse every moment or two, to her ‘salts. ’ ‘I sufiocate!’ she panlingly cried. •Madame will get accustomed toil, little by little, said the /misuse. ‘And then, with the exercise of the ball, 'ho size diminishes. For tunately it is a ball, for if it were a dinner par ly. Madame would be obliged lo give up the dress. * The stifling woman looked with glaring eyes upon the speaker- 'lt is a dinner!’ she ex claimed with horror. ‘They dance after wards !’ Thb Whoso Legs.—A gentleman of this city, who has the bad fortune to bo troubled with rheumatism in (he legs, and the good for tune to have an excellent wife, who is ever I prompt in applying the usual remedies to ar -1 rest the vexatious pains of this treacherous ' complaint, went home one evening last week j suffering greatly from Ins old misery.” Ilia I zealous wife immediately rushed to llio side bomd, and taking out the bottle of what she i supposed to be Uallea’s Pain Extractor, pro ceeded to rub the fl(Hict<d husband's legs and feet with the magical elixir. With a gratclul smile the affectionate husband signified his Areal relief, remarking, also, that a good wife was really an inestimable blessing. ••And. bythe-by, my dear.” continued (ho affectionate spouse, “I see you hare been var nishing the legs of this old furniture; they have needed it for n long lime.” ■ What put that into your head ? asked tho good wife. "Wby, Can't 1 snull 1 I must scrtninly have a bad cold if I could escape that rather strong odor of ccpal varnish which pervades the room. ” "You arc mistaken ; I have not opened tho varnish botilc to-day.” At this the husband, happening to cast his cyiS down to his kneeling wife, who was still rubbing his extremities, was astonished and horrified at the spectacle they presented. They were of a beautiful mahogany color, so bright ly polished that he could seu bis own startled countenance as distinctly in them as M» a look* mg glass. Seizing the bottle of magical elix ir, what was Ins horror to discover that it was labeled "copal varnish !" Tins explained the odor, and established an important fact in medical practice, that the best cure for rheumatism is a thick coaling of copal varnish. We had the same remedy em ployed in cases of cholera, to arrest prespira don, but this is tho first case We have ever known of i s being found as effective it restoring tho damaged legs of men as those of tables and Sidotboards. —Oincimiuti Enquirer. Do it VoinisKLVKS. Ilova.—Why ask the teacher or some class-mate »o solve that prob lem I Do it yourselves. You might as well let them cat your dinacr nfl "do your sums for you." It is in studying as in eating : ho that* does it gets tho benefit, and not ho that sees it dduo. In almost every school I would give more for what tho teacher learns; simply be cause tho teacher is compelled to solve all the hard problems for them, and answer tho ques tion of the lazy hoys. Do not ask him to parse all tho difficult words or assist you m tho per* forninneo of any uf your duties. Do it your* selves. Never mind though they look as dark as Egypt. Don't ask oven a hint from any body. Try again. Every trial increases your ability, and you will finally succeed by tho very dint of wisdom and strength gained in this effort, even though at first tho problem was boyond your skill. It is the study and not tho answer that really rewards your pains. Look at that boy who has sccuccdcd after six hours of hard study, perhaps. How his eye is lit up with a proud joy as ho marches to his class. lie reads like a conqueror, and well ho may. His poor weak school-mate who gave up that same problem after tho first faint trial, now looks up to him with something of wonder ns a superior. Tho problem lies there, n great I gulf between those boys who stood yesterday aide by side. They will ncverstand logolhcras equals again- Tho boy that did it f° r himself has taken a stride upwards, and what is bettor still, gained strength for greater ones. The! one who wailed to see others do it has lost I both strength and courage, and hi already look-1 log for some excuse to give up school and study I forever. - . I telegraph wires in every direction liAfo been much injured by iho storm* From the Cohoes Cataract, April 10. JtTElopement—Base Desertion. Officer Milmao of Lansingburg, came to Ihfe village on Wednesday last.M'n company of Mr- Stone, a resident of Landgrove, Vt., in search of a man named Kelly, who left a wife and three children about two months ago near the. latter place, and eloped with the step daugbterof Mr. Slone, under the following circumstances; The erring girl had been employed in the fa mily of Kelly, and it-is supposed that while there site consented to his base proposals and made arrangements for an elopement. It Jiyaa arranged that she should engage to work-in ,d collar factory in Lansingburg. and that Kelly should propose to her unsuspecting parents that ho would accompany her to the cars at Bennington, whither his business (that of a daguerrean artist.) should vail him, and as hb was in the habit of being absent from homo, engaged in his profession,-the circumstances would excite ho suspicion, and, they would be enabled to accomplish their object,, ; Their plan proved successful, and four weeks had elapsed before the guilty pair appeared, id Lansingburg, from which place the girl prom* ised to write to her parents, informing theft of her success in her new undertaking. &c. - Kel ly then procured boardfor.tbe girl in the fami ly of Mr. Millmnn, and then went away- After she had been there a few days. Mrs.- M. sus pected that all was not right, and ‘ presston to her suspicions, by asking her if “ she was sure she was roamed ?” to' which she replied that ‘ 'she was if the officer was qualified who performed the ceremony.” The next day she went to Uoosic in company with -ah "ac quaintance, to visit a friend, and while she was gone Kelly came to Mr. Millman’s residence, and inquired where his wife was. He was told, and in the rooming bo went after her, and front Hoosio brought her to this village, where ho made arrangements for her board, ami then left “on business.” She 'remained one week, and then went (9 the hotel, where she boarded until the 3d inst., when Kelly again mado his ap pearance. and they departed for parts unknown. Kelly is quite a young man, rather prepos sessing in ntS appearance, but is evident!/* villain. But a short time since he was arrested for passing counterfeit money, but through the iuflucnco of his friends, who arc wealthy* ho was released. His companion in crime is vary lady likb ih her appearance, and we arc told ia quite accom plished, but like many infatuated young gtrls who disorder their imaginations by reading.ye]- low covered literature, and determined to bavo a romantic adventure, without considering the dreadful consequences which are sure to follow such a course. A Desperate Villain, The Texas State Gazette has an account of the capture at Waco, in that Stale, of-*' Bill Johnson," a notorious desperado, lie bad fled from San Antonio, charged with a crime, and his hiding place was discovered. The G&zetto says: The Sheriff soon received from San Antonio, a capias for Johnson's arrest. Il was found that he had taken up bis quarters for resistance at Blackcnship’s storehouse, and was armed with six double barreled shot guns, doubtless provided for him -by accomplices. Echtls, the Deputy Sherlft, broke down the door of the en trance. and (he party summoned as the Sheriff'S posse, attempted to enter two abreast. John son was seen standing like a furious Hon in the back part of the store room and shot into, tho 41 pile." aiming a centre shot; but it was a.lit tle to the right and tho arms of all those on tho right side were shot, and their coals and cloth ing literally lorn to pieces. Tobc Carmack re ceived three buck shot in the arm, young Thom asson seven, and Eichclbcrgcr one. The reports of the guns soon brought to lU6 spot a large number of citizens, who knowing that Johnson had secretly several aiders and abettors, came well aruicdwilh shotguns, rifles and pistols. Johnson remained in the bouse, first firing out of the front aod afterwords changing his position to tho bock door, and for BOmo lime keeping up a Arc upon the citizens, .finally no made a desperate effort at retreat, and 1 running oul’of thc back dodr yvilhTa shdt gun and side arm*, ho attempted to gain (ho rive A.... On his retreat, he turned upon his pursuers, and taking aim at Mr. Buchanan, wounded him in (ho right thigh, hip and near the kneo. He was at last brought to tho ground by the shots of tho party in pursuit. Ho was found to be shot through tho centre of the breast with a rifle bullet. Ho had also received a buckshot in liis mouth which lodged in his neck. It was thought that lie would die in a few minutes, and ho was left there reluctantly by tho cltl« zens. who were so exasperated at him, that un der other circumstances ho must have been thrown into Brazos river. His friends came to his relief, and carried him to Ulackcnship A Baker’s grocery. Tho Sheriff learning tins fact, and ascertaining that his wounds were not mortal, again took charge Of him, and he was carried to the Drury Hotel under guard. These events transpired oh thfc 7th Inst. On tho same night he feigned so well that death’s hand was upon him, that some of the guard left to warm themselves by the fire. He suon rose, seized a gun, and fired at Mr. Griffin, but missed him. Tho latter returned the lire, breaking Ins jaw bone. It was thought at last accounts that he would soon die of ills wounds. Tho wounded citizens, we learn, or 6 doing well. ; . Tl is Said that this desperado had already killed seven men before tho present awful tra gedy, and that one of the number was his owd father. An Indian Tragedy. Oi, Sunday last, at 4 o’clock P. M., os Mr. Jerry Montrickct and Harrison Loomis—tho former of Minnesota, and the latter of Wiscon sin—were towing a boat olong the edge of tho Ice on the Mississippi, between tho mouth of the Chippewa and Nelson’s Landing, on tho Wis consin side, they were met by three Sioui In dians, one of whom (Iron Cloud) was Intoxica ted. and who, without any provocation what ever. raised his gun. gave tho fearful warhoop, and shouting "Chippewa." llrcd at tho above named gentlemen. Mr. Montrickct, being toe foremost, was shot in the back, to tbo right of the spinal column, the ball passing obliquely forward and making its exit out of the side be tween the seventh ami eigth ribs’, wounding tho liver. Mr. Loomis received two balls, ono of which entered the body on tho right side, just above the right pclvio bone, passing through the lower portion ol the abdomen and lodging in the left side; the other ball entered tbo .fopt at the base of tho lesser too, passing through the foot and lodging at tho base of the greater toe. Wo learn that there was also another gentleman in the boat at tho time (whose name! we did not learn) who was fortunately not in jured. After shooting the trVo men, the Indi an deliberately commenced loading his'guii again, but was prevented from doing so by ono of hia companions, who wrested his gun - from him and broko-it over a log. Tho uninjured man then, brought his wounded cqmptvnlonS to Nelson’s Landing front where a mnnbcrbfmen immediately started out and arrested tlio Indi an. They tied his hahds together, put him in to a canoo and brought him over id tho Minn esota side ; ho afterwards wan taken bkek to tho Wisconsin side—to tho place were lit com mitted tho crime -and (here was hung by tho citizens. Since writing the nbnyb, we lean* from tho attending surgeon that Mr. Loomis is dead, and that Mr. Montrickct is not out of danger.— lVabashaw M. T. Journal. 07' Those that admonish jtheir (Vlchds, rays Plutarch, should observe this rule, not to leave them with sharp expressions. HI language do stroyo tho forco of reprehension, which should bo always given With prudence and circumspec tion. you know I was hero1" : Bakl tho bellows to tho fire. - : “Oh* yea. I always conltWo lo get wiivi V you,'* was the reply. ' .
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers