JuiiASnEfc hWe6.Y ftronsDAv hoenibo by johu B. Bratton. TERMS. Subscription. —One Dollar and %%s>’s»> feaW ia advance; Two Dollars if paid within the Sear- hnd Two Dollars and Fifty Cents, if not Bald within the year. Those terms will be rig idly adhered to in every instance. No sub lorbitton discontinued until all arrearages are Baia unless at the option of the Editor. ■ Ad veetisemenxs— Accompanied by the case, 'ind not exceeding one square, will bo inserted Wee times for One Dollar, and twenty-five cents lor each additional insertion. Those of agreat ter length in proportion. ■ Jon-PiuNTisa —Such as Hand-bills, Posting hills, Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, &0.,&c., exe cuted with accuracy and at. the shortest notice. the motherless. God help and shield the motherless, The stricken, bleeding dove— , For whom there gushes no rich fount Of deep and deathless love j The saddest title grief confers, For who so sad as they, Upon whose path a mother’s love Sheds not its holy ray. No gentle form above them bends, To. Soothe the couch of pain— No voice so fond .as her’s essays To calm the feverish brain. Oh, other tongues may whisper love, In accents soft and mild, Bnt none on earth so pure as that A mother boars a child. Judge kindly of the motherless— A weary lot is theirs, And oft the gayest seems, A load of sorrow bears. No faithful voice directs their steps, Or bids them onward press, ti And if they gang a konnin’ wrang, , God help the motherless! ■ And when the sinful and the frail. The tempted and the trie<}> Unspotted one, shall cross thy path, Oh, spurn them not aside. Thou knoivest not what thou bada’t been With trials even less, And when thy lips would vent reproach, Think they were motherless. A blessing on the motherless, Where’er they dwell on earth— Within the home of childhood, Or at the stranger’s hearth j Bllio be the sky above their heads. And bright the sun within ; Oh, God protect the motherless, And keep them fresh trom sin. THE KIND OLD FRIENDLY FEELINGS. The kind old friendly feelings I , Wo have their spirit yet, . Tho’ years and years have passed, old menu, Since thou and X last mot! And something of gray Time’s advance Seems in thy fading eye. Yet, ’tis the same good honest glance I loved in times gone bf— Ere the kind old friendly feelings Had ever brought one sigh ! Tho warin old friendly feelings ! Ah, vviio need yet be told, No other-links can bind the heart Like those iqved links of old! The hand I joyed in youth to clasp. The touch Of age may show, Yet ’tis tho same true, hearty grasp I loved so long ago— Ero the last-old friendly feelings 1 .Had taught one tear to flow. The kind old friendly feelings! Oh, Bccm.tboy e’er'less dear, ... ■Because some recollections- ■ *, May meet tis with a tear T i Though hopes we shared—tho early beams Ambition showed our way— ( . Have fled, dear triend, like morning drojtms. Before Truth’s searching ray— Still we’ve kept the kind old feelings - That blessed our youthful day! HtsallamousL Decorating the Grave, There is a kiud of pathos and touching ten derncss of expression ip these sweet and fra grant emblems of affection, which language cannot reach, and which is calculated to per petuate a kind of soothing sympathy between the living and the dead. They speak of cords of life too strong for even the grave to break asunder; This practice no doubt gave rise to the ancient custom which prevailed m the cast of burying in gardens, and is one which condu ces to the gratification of the best feelings of our nature.. It prevailed generally in, and about the Holy City, and among, the Modes, Persians, Grecians, and Romans. ine ter sians adopted it from the Medes, the Grecians from the Persians. In Rome, persons of . dis tinction were buried in gardens or fields near the public roads. Their monuments were de corated with balsams, and garlands.ot flowers. The tomb of Achilles was decorated with ama rath; the urn of Philbpemoen .was covered ' with chaplets; the grave of Sophocles with ro ses and ivy; Anadreon with ivy and flowers. Baskets of lillies, violets and roses, were placed in the grave of husbands and wives—white ro ses on unmarried females. In Java the inhabi tants scatter flowers over the bodies" of their friends: in China the custom of planting flow ers on the graves of their friends is,of very an cient date, and still prevails. In Tripoli thej tombs are decorated with garlands of roses, ot Arabia, jusmim, and orange and myrtle flower. In Schwytz, - a village in Switzerland, there is a beautiful little church yard, in which almost every grave is covered with pinks* In the ele* cant church yard in Wirfln. in the valley of Salza, in Germany, the graves are covered with oblong boxes, which are planted with permmal shrubs or renewed with annual flowers ; and others are so dressed on/c(e days. Suspended from the ornaments of cent graves are vessels filled with water, in which the flowers are pre served fresh. Children arc often seen thus dressing the graves of their mothers, and mo thers wreathing garlands for their children. A late traveller, on going early in the morning into one of the graveyards in the village of Wir fin saw six or seven persons decorating the craves of their friends, and of some who had I I Juried twenty years. This custom also Prevails id Scotland, and in North and South , & An epitaph there says: „mhe Village maidens to her grave shall bring The fragrant garland each returning spring. sweets! in emblem of the maid, . l/ghtfundcrneath this hallowed turf is laid. Tn Wales, childfon-havo snow-drops, violets. Primroses, hazel-bloom and swallow-blossoms their craves. Persons of mature years, tan ° box, ivy and rue. In South Wales, no flowers or evergreen are permitted to be planted on graves but those that are sweet scented. Pinks, polyanthus, sweet-williams, gilly-flow ers, camomile, and rosemary are used. In Capul. burying-grounds are held in vene- fy ■.' m' ration, a'nd were called "Cities of the silent.” The Jews called them "Houses of the Dead." The Egy ptiaas visited the graves of their friends twice a week, and strewed sweet basil on them, Apd to this day. , . While the custom of decorating graves and grave yards with flowers and ornamental trees and shrubs has prevailed so long and exten sively among ancient and modern 1 civilized na tions. some of the American aboriginals will not permit a weed or blade of grass, nor any other vegetable, to grow on the graves of their friends. 0“ Men are like weathercocks, which arc never constant or fixed but when they are worn out er rusty. Am c ri rans| Bolantc ft ' ~ ' ’ iQ PER ANNUM BY JOHN B. BRATTON. VOL. 45. Some of the Uses of Marriage. One of the London Magazines has the .follow ing sensible observations upon the economy of matrimony: In return for whatever you may have done for -your wife, from what a complicated slavery does she deliver you. Only make'the enumera tion. From the slavery of baseness : If y ou have happiness beside your heart, you will not go in the'evening to court love under the smoky lambs of a dancing room, and to find drunken ness in the street. From the slavery of weak ness: You will not drag your limbs along, like -your sad acquaintance, that pale, worn out, bloated, young old man. From the slavery of melancholy: He who is strong and does a man s wor [ c he w ho goes out to labor and leaves at home a cherished soul who loves him—will from that sole circumstance have a cheerful heart and be merry all day. From the slavery of money: Treasure this very exact, arithmetical maxim, “ Two persons spend less than one.” Many bachelors remain as they are in alarm at the expense of married life, but who spend indefinitely more. They live very .dreary at the cafe and restaurateur's, very dearly at the I theatre. The Havana cigar alone, smoked all day long, is an outlay of itself. But if your wife has no female friends, whose rivalry trou bles her, and excites her to dress, she spends nothing. She reduces all your expenses to such a degree, that the .calculation just given is any thing but just. It should not have been “ two people.” but ‘ four people spend less than one. 1 ’ ’ When a marriage is reasonable, contracted with foresight, when the family does not in crease, too fast, a wife, far from being an obsta cle to liberty of movement; is, on the contrary, its natural and essential condition.. Why does the Englishman emigrate so easily, and so ben eficially for England herself? Because his wife follows him.. Except in devouring cli mates, such as India, it may be asserted that the English woman has sown the whole earth with solid English colonies. The force of Fa mily has created the force and the greatness ol the country. With a good wife ,and a good trade, a young man is free to leave his home, or to remain. It must be a trade,(gnd not an act of luxury.— Have such an art iiilo the bargain, if you. like; but the first necessity is to be tho master of on# of the arts that are useful to all. The man who loves and wishes to maintain his wife, will hardly waste his time in drawing the precise line between art and trade ; a line which is fic titious in reality. Who cannot see that the ma jority of trades, if traced to their principle, are real branches of an art ? The bootmaker’s and the tailor’s trades make a close approach to sculpture. A tailor who appreciates, models, and rectifies nature, is worth three classic sculp tors. - . How Foot Young Hen may Succeed. Young man are you poor and without the ; means of splurging in life, as you'launch upon its billows { Is your father poor and unable to give you an outfit? Bo not disheartened on account of all this. Take earnest/hold: of life, and' never- regard yourself in any other light than that of being destined to a high and noble purpose. Studyciosely the bend of your own mind for labor or a profession. Whatever you resolve upon, do it early; follow-it steadily an.d untiring; never look'backward to-what you have-encountered, but always forward to what is within your grasp. The world owes every man a comfortable living, and a respectable po sition in,society ; means are abundant to every man’s success; and men have only to adopt will and action to them. To repine over a want of money and proper ty, to start out in the world with, and over the want of the props of influential relatives, is un manly. Let a young man strive to create a fortune rather than seek to inherit one. It is an ignoble spirit that, leads a young man to borrow instead of bequeathing means. Go forth into the world, young man, conscious of God within you, and his providence over you, and fight your own way to distinction to honor and to comfort. Pity m your inmost soul the young man who. without any charge is unable to support himself, and is whining around, and begging the influence of others, to get him into employment! Feel, under all circumstances, that it is more noble, more honorable.to cat the crust you have, earned, than to. flourish with coppers inherited.- You may lift your head proudly to' face and confront the noblest among us, when you are conscious of being the archi tect of your own fortune; Young man are yon poor? .Be honest, be virtuous, be industrious; hold lip your bead, and say by your actions and looks, what the poet has said in woras. «. I scorn the man who boasts his birth, And boasts his titles and his lands, Who takes his name and heritage From out a father’s dying hands. Female Conversation. Every woman, and every young lady, whoso heart and mind have been properly regulated, is capable of exerting a salutary influence oyer the gentleman with whom she associate—a fact which has been acknowledged by the best and wisest of men, and seldom disputed except by those whose capacities of judging have been singularly perverted. A young lady should al ways seek to converse with gentlemen into whose society she may be introduced, with dig nified delicacy and simplicity, which will efleo tually check, ou their part, any attempt at fa miliarity : but never should anything be said or done that may lead thein to suppose that any attempt is being made to solicit their notice. — An instance can scarcely bo recalled of a lady, either by direct or indirect means, attempting to storm a man's heart into admiration, who did not thus effectually defeat her purpose. If a gentleman approaches a lady with thi words, of flattery, and with profuse attention especially after a short acquaintance, no encou raging smiles or words should be extended —for a flatterer can never be otherwise than an un profitable companion. It is. better, by a be coming composure, to pass unnoticed, than with smiles and blushes, to disclaim flattery, since these are frequently considered—as they are too often intended—as encouragement for the further effusions of those “ painted words.” Such delicate attentions as well bred and refined gentlemen are desirous of paying may bo accep ted. but they should never be expected. Cincinnati Gazette. Goon Bte.—This simple word is very com roon, but yet it is lull of solemn and tender meaning. How many emotions cluster around that word. How full of sadness, and to many how full of sorrow it often sounds. A short time since wo heard this parting word exchang ed as it is ap t to bo spoken by those who Jove. <• Good bye!” said a young man, as he passed his manly arm around a young and beauUlul girl, and pressed his lips to hers, saying." rou can expect mo in a week.” The day came, but he came not. The next day brought n letter from a strange hand, which contained the sad news uf his death. The Washington Union calls the rebell ious democrats in Pennsylvania, under the lead ,of Forney, “ political vagrants'.” Romance and Cbicken Stealing—A Lore Plot Prostrated—Almost Another Jadson Elope ment. ' A chicken stealing case came up before Jus tice Purdy yesterday, which exceeds anything we hare ever met with in the queer denouements and revelations attached to it. The defendants were a couple of darkies from Canada, named John Elton and Abraham Davis, the latter only being in Court. These nosed about the alleys until they discovered a fine lot of chickens in the coOp of Mr. ■, (wo shall withhold his name upon second thought, as we received at least seven hundred and fifty earnest requests to that effect,) and resolved upon their immedi ate appropriation. They accordingly repaired to fhe premises, night before last and bagged every chick in the, coop, having first taken the ; precaution to wring all their necks. Having seen them safely through this operation, we are obliged to leave them for a short time to bring np the other necessary characters in this adven ture. The gentleman who claimed the ownership over the chicken coop also had a daughter. Susan was what is known among sedate circles as wild : that is to say, she was put up in all manner of .diablerie, without any regard to what people would say about it. She was also bright and lovely, sweet as a peach, if we may be allowed to give the result of our bbserva tions.. The sparkle of her eye danced all around the room, and a lurking mischief played in the corners of her mouth, which made us think she was dying for an opportunity to stick pins into the court, out of a pure wantonness of mockery at its solemn judicial gravity. She had a lover, of course —one Herbert Andres—who suited her fancy to a nicety, but did not please the old folks for some reason or other. He was a dare devil fellow, which made her love him and they always went hand in hand in their frolicking efforts to make the gossips croak—nobody knows that they did any harm either, but peo ple will talk. It got to that finally that they were obliged to take a decisive step, and cither quit or marryT The old folks would not listen to marrying, so they concluded in their wise head to elope. This was not so easy though, as they were watched ; but Susan overcame all difficulties by a proposition to climb out of her window, and run away with her lover while the folks, were fast asleep. j This was accordingly settled upon, and on the very night the chickens were stolen the mo- ] mentous feat was to have been accomplished, j The young gentleman packed up his duds and had everything ready, at the appointed hour was under the window of his lady-love, who carefully hoisted the sash and let down a rope made of the ijieets, the upper end of which was fastened to the bed-post. She laughed merrily as she balanced herself on the window-sill, and told her lover to catch her if she fell and broke her ndek. The modern institution of hoops washot at all conducive to ease or grace in feats of slack rope performing, in view of which, she judiciously commanded her gallant to turn his head away while she descended through the bright moonlight. Taking a dextrous twist of the rope around her. anljles.and clasping-dt tightly, she then commenced sliding downward, wh?n, as she accomplished about half the dis tance, a new actor was introduced in the per son of Abraham, who came around the. corner of the house with a bagpf chickens on his Back. The sound of his approach interrupted the young gentleman, who was busy disobeying the commands of'his mistress in regard to look ing at the barn-door: and at 100 first sight of a man he.bolted for the fence, supposing thatit could be no other than his . intended father-in law, with a tremendous club on his shoulder. Susan heard the clatter of his feet as he dis appeared down the alley I looked the other way and saw the darkey ; hung suspended a mo ment in agonizing suspense, and then resorted to woman’s last resource, and gave a screech that would have awakened the dead, much more her watchful papa. She then made a desperate effort to climb up, hut found it per fectly impossible, and immediately came down with a run. The darkey meantime stood transfixed. The last thing he expected to see when he turned the corner, was n young lady dangling in mid-air, with colors flying and drum-sticks kicking out in all directions, and he quite forgot himself, until as the youthful gymnast struck the ground with a concussion, he was seized by the indignant father, and laid out full length by a blow. Miss Susan lost no time in making tracks for her chamber and celling into bed. Abraham was biought m and questioned, it -being strongly suspected that the young lady was about perpetrating another Judson elopement. She was pulled out of bed and confronted with the sable victim, and who being scared almost to death said nothing. , . , ~ The old lady went into hysterics, and said that if it had only been a white man—even that detestable little rascal, Herbert—she wouldn t have cared, but to go and disgrace the family by running away with a nigger, and him gray headed, was beyond endurance. The father got his revolver, and sworo he would blow the nigger’s brains out on the spot, and fairly made him get down on his knees to say his prayers, lie would have no nigger son-in-law to get him in the papers for an amalgamationist, and. had already cocked his pistol to do the fatal deed, when the poor darkey found his tongue, and in his incoherent sentences explained, pointing to his bag of chickens ns evidence. The light finally dawned upon the minds of the old folks, who, overjoyed at the denouement, packed off Susan to bed and sent Abraham to jail. John had meantime escaped, and when his, comrade was brought down for trial, the whole thing leaked out. as things will, when items-men are about. Abraham went up impressed with a devout feeling of thankfulness that he had his skin whole after the imminent peril in whichhe had been placed.—Detroit Free Press. 10 ■ A Happy Childhood. —A happy childhood is a precious Inheritance. It you can give your children nothing more, not ono penny ot world ly wealth, only the education of the common schools, only poor olqUjjs and plain comforts, dry and secure them at least a happy childhood. It will bo to them a wealth of memories to sub. tain and cheer them in all the struggles of a toilsome life. It will remain with them, the ono bright spot, growing brighter l even as they re cede from it, through all the vicissitudes of the saddest lot, or the prosperous changes of the happiest ono. Maturity under-estimates both the joys and the sorrows of childhood. Amid the more im portant events of adult years and approaching ago, it forgets how profound were'the regrets, how keen the disappointments, how intense the enjoyments of early years. These should not bo forgotten, but remembered, but remembered, that the memory may stimulate us to minister to the highest welfare of the little beings en trusted to our.care. Even in boyhood there are enough unavoidable pains and sorrows. Lot it be our care to make the path trod by tiny foot as bright as the sunshine of a cheerful heart and happy homo can render it. A spirit premature ly weighed down by sorrow, or rendered gloomy and distrustful by injustice, is illy fitted to cope with the world j and early soured and embitter ed it will carry with it all through life a repel lant atmosphere and will almost surely fall to secure the affection and sympathy of its fellows —the only remedy lor its painful and. morbid •condition. ■“our count nr—mat it alwatsdß nionr,—but mgiit or wrong, our country CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, APR: Study Elegance 01. Among other rules which a father submitted to his guidance ■’life was that which. heads this paragraph. Unfortunately, few of us take the trouble to espies ourselves in well j constructed sentences, and jit is quite as easy to use'correct as it is .to -.use incorrect words when we desire to give form* to our emotions. How often do we’ hear'.'persons, who cannot p'ead ignorance as an excuse, for their derilic tions, declare, when they. iro that they “are tired to : death.f CjThis expresnon— which is meant to he forcible- —is not only vul gar but impotent, inasmuch*hs it does not con vey what the utterer intendf • How often do ladies declare with uplifted hands that they are ••frightened to death ;” or;rrf . their shoes are large for their feet, ‘.’ they psfli mile 100 long; or their hata aro “a world'toi)large.” Wo might fill a columtfyivith the inelegant phrases which are beard in alljclosscs of society. It is a pity that, the English .konguo should he thus prostituted. Were' it ,a language from which it would be difficult tQ cull words ex press our feelings or .cbfltty our ideas, there would be some excuse for what we may with propriety denounce as ■• ‘unlicensed ■ vulgarity, but as it is.cxcecd.ngly copious—full of beau tiful words, of words conveyed from a thousand fountains to the ••Well of English undeilled, there is little or no extiuse fotthe cant that pas ses current in society. , In the palmy days of Gifecce, dot even the women who sold fish in tho;.streets .of Athens could be induced to express fheir thoughts in vulgar forms of speech. Indeed, these women were said to be celebrated-Tor the purity of tbeir diction; and more than once were they appointed umpires to decide,,* between learned men upon the grammatical accuracy of senten ces. VVc would not have speakers, of English •so pedantic, or so, exact* but-, We wonld, have them accustom themselves to 4b o use words that would convey to the ear what they really felt or desired, not indulging in pleonasms that grate quite as harshly on the pueducalcd as the educated ear. In our. ihter<purso with each other, we should study elegance of expression. Take life like a man. Take it just as though it was—as it is-—an earnest* vital, essential of fait. Tako it just as thought you personally were born to the task of performing a merry part in it—as though the world, had waited tor your coming. Tako it its though it was a grand opportunity to do and to achieve, to currj <or». ward-great and good scheni.es} to hplp and cheer a suffering, wear)*, it, may, he a heart-broken brother. Tho fact is, life Undervalued by a majority of mankind.. It is hot made hall as much of as should - be tho -.case. Where is the man or woman who accomplishes one lithe of what might be done 7 Who cannot look back upon opportunities lost,, plansJ 5 hioova, thoughts crushed, aspirations {unfulfilled, and all caused from tho lack of tile necessary and I possible effort I If we knew better how tojUko and makothe most of life, Itw'-Juld bo far great er than it is; Now and thenaman stands asido from the crowd; labpra k «aroeßly»;^,t® a dU Btl y» confidently,-and for wisdom, intellect, skill,,'greatness of some sort. Tho world wonders, admires,',,idolizes j and yet It only illustrates what each maydo it ho takes hold of life with a purpose. If aman but says ho aiiVt, and follows ;it . op,, thoro is nothing in reason ho may not oipoot to acoom. plish. There is no magic, ho mrraclo, no secret to him who is brave in heart in spirit. K A Mother’s Woti. Tho following passage ft-om aftpeech of "Won deli Philips is at onco full ot biauty and great lessons. Wo especially command it to youhg men who have not loomed tha^ 'importance of total,abstinence from intoxicating liquors : 1 was told to-day, a story so touching In rote, rence to this, that you must let me 101 l it. It is the story of a mother on tho hills of Vermont, holding by the right hand a son, sixteen years old, mad with tho love of tho »oa. And as she stood by tho garden .gate, ono sunny morning sho said : “Edward, they toll mo that the groat temptation of a seaman’s life is drink. Promise me, before you quit your mother s hand, that yori will never drink.” And Said ho—for ho told me tho story—“ I gave her the promise, and I went tho broad globe ovcf—Calcutta, tho Mediterranean, San Francisco, the Capo of. Good Hope, tho -North Polo and thb South— : l saw them all in forty years, and, I never saw a glass filled with sparkling liquors, that my mother s joim by the garden gate, on the green hill side of Vermont, did not rise before mo \ and to-day at sixty, my lips are innocent of, the taste of li quor.*’ Was not that sweet evidence of tho power, of a single word ? Yet that was not one half.— “ For,” said ho, “ yesterday, there came a man into my counting room, a man of forty, and asked mo,” “do you know me ? “No. “ Well,” said bo, “ I was once brought drunk into your presence on ship-hoard; you were a passenger 1 tho captain kicked: me aside j you took mo to your berth and kept mo. there until I had slept tho sleep of intoxication j you then asked me if I had a mother ; I said I never know a word from her lips ; you told me of yours at the garden gate, and to-day I am the master of onoof tho finest packets In Ifow York, and ! camo to ask you to call and seo me. Howfar that little candle throws That mo. ther’s word on tho green hill tilde of Vermont 1 Oh, God bo thanked for the Almighty power of a single worcl. , ■ Sjboons to the Ears and H^akt.—A judi cious writer, wise, some will say in the world ways, has said, how profoundly I leave you to judge, that, to employ his ownianguago, there are two doors inside his ears,right-hand door tending to the heart, and a left-hand door, whh a broad and steep passage oufjdto the open air. This last door receives all--ng|p«s, profanity, vulgarity, mischief-making, ’which suddenly find themselves outside of him... He then con tinues : “ Judicious teachers and indulgent pa rents save young urchins a world of trouble by a,* cmivenUnt deafness. Bankers and brokers often are extremely hard of hearing, when.un ■afe borrowers are I never hear a man who Tuna after mein thf Street, ba.wbng Sy name at the top of his voicj ; nor them that talk evil of those who are abstint , nor those who give mo unasked advice about my aflairs ; nor those who talk largely about things of which they arc ignorant. If there are sounds M kindness, of mirth. ofloVo, open fly my ears ! But temper, or harshness, or hatred, or vulgar ity, or flattery, shut them., If you keep your garden gate shut, your flowers and fruiit wi l l bo safe. If you keep your door closed, no thief will run off with your silver ; and if you keep your cars shut, your heart will lose neither Us flowers nor its treasures. „n Ts'tbere not a vast deal of philosophy in all this ? It teaches that the heart and the oar should ever be open to the reception ofthe good and the true, and closed hermetically toaUthai is impure and sordid. Could we a* fo„ow hi, advice, how very soon would this world of men bo transformed into a heaven fit for the leal denco of angola. ~ “ Speaking of-shaving," said a pretty "irl to an obdurate old bachelor, •• I should Think that a pair of handsome eyes would be the best miftor’t'd' shave by.” “ Yea, many a poof fellow has becu shaved by them,” he replied. How to take life. iL 28, 1859. Familiar Lecture on Courting. Never my voung friend, make an expression of your feelings, or, in other words, a “propo. < sition,” until yon are entirely alone with your sweetheart, and, if possible, in contact with some < part of her person—her hand in yours, or your arm thrown slightly aronnd her waist. .Animal magnetism has more to do with love than you are perhaps award. Situated thus, she will be more apt to feel the force of your A sofa, a settee, a bench, or a double rocking, chair, or a •‘mossy seat” upon the bank of a creek or river, is the best place for making the avowal. Never kneel (as the novelist would have you do) to the one you love—it compro mises your dignity, and not unfrequently great ly lessens you in her estimation; but bo manly in your declarations, always remembering, no - ever, to ‘‘ press yOur point with modesty ana If you have a rival, the less you have to soy about him the better ; for, if you praise him, the lady to whom you are paying your addresses will leapt to think yon are lacking in your di rections, or that you are just trying to draw her out: if you abuse him, run him down, she will suppose you are, actuated by selfish motives, and bo more than likely to take his part. In either case, there is nothing gained. • Always be sure yon know your person ; wiiat is food for one is often poison lor another. 11, for instance, your “gal” has black eyes, avoid speaking in very high terms ot “ azure orbs 5 it blue, vice versa. If she bo small, avoid eulo sizing largo women in her presence; if large, vice versa —and so on to the end of the chap ter. From these lew hints on the part of my subject, you will bo able, provided you are ac quainted with their dispositions, to shape your “discourse” to suit tho several tastes or capri ces of those for whom you may happen to “ set your cap.” • Never speak of your - other sweethearts in the presence of the one you lovo; women can t ; endure rivals. When they think that they have a rival in your affections they generally lose but little time in procuring you a rival in theirs.— ’ To this end a*.great many flirtations are cora } mcucod and carried on to a fatal termination, 1 it not unfrequently happening that a woman' marries your rival just to “ spito you foripirt- ing with hers, ’ ■ . ' I will take this opportunity to warn you against tho insidious vice of flirting. This evil prevails to an alarming extent among both sexes, and is, perhaps, as injurious in its ten dencies as almost any other vice.- Some of my. readers may bo surprised that I should term flirting a “ vice.” If trifling with tho purest and best affections of a woman’s heart be not a vice, I know not what is.. If a gentleman does not intend to marry a lady he ought not to try to make her think ho docs. Tho same wijl ap ply to tho other sex. But, aside from the sin of flirting, the man or woman who is bo unfor tunate as to become addicted to this habit is seldom lucky in his or her, choice, and they not unfrequently entirely lose the confidence 01 those who might otherwise have courted them in good earnest, and dio old maids or old bache lors. Vfe Eat too Hath. ; , The late. sy Anoy .Swttii, a tor wit as piety, once wrote to a tnend that he I bad made an estimate of the food ho had oaten 1 during the first thirty years of his life, and found that ho had in that period unnecessarily called on his patient stomach to digest meat and vege-. tables enough to’fill'twonfy-soven wagons, at a cost of about twenty-five thousand dollars. He added, with words of regret, that, had ho boon more abstemious at the table, ho would be worth so many more dollars than he was, and that by over-feeding he had been guilty of a double in- Jwry—firstly to himself, and aecondly.to society; for, had he. oaten loss, he would have enjoyed better health, and others would have that to nourish and sustain them which ho bad wantonly wasted. , , Sydney Smith is not the only person who has had reason to accuse himself of excess at the 1 table. The fact U* we all oat more than our stomachs can well digest, and for it we are duly | punished, sooner or later. IVhen the stomach is Imposed on it sooner or later rebels, and dis ease is the consequence—disease in the most disagreeable form, dyspepsia. Could wo restrain our appetites—could wo teach ourselves the important lesson that it is bettor to eat to live than live to eat—how much bet ter off wo all would bo. Could wo rise from the table with an inclination to eat alittle'more, instead of gormandizing to the full, the general health would bo a thousand times better than It is, and soon would we rid our bodies of diseases which now seem to be almost natural to us! People complain of the “hardness of the times;” the “dearness of food,” the “doctor s bills,” and of “sickness,” and yet they possess the moans within themselves of removing ail those standing complaints by exercising a little self-control over their appetites. “Eat less and you will have more,” is an old adage, and, although a homely one, is not without its grain of wisdom. ... Drinking is not the only intemperance that is indulged in. There are more people who do stray themselves by eating than by. drinking al coholic stimulants. Alcohol, it is true, is a very bad thing te take into the stomach, lor the reason that the fumes thereof fly to the head and induce intoxication ; but what shall wo say of the stomach debilitated by its continued ef forts to reduce the enormous masses of food, half masticated, that are forced into it for a mo mentary gratification ? Can wo ask the[blood to bo pure or the stomach sound that is treated three or four times every day with unhealthy Indifiestible trash 7 If you want to stupefy a brilliant mind, stuff the stomach; but if you want it to do work so that its corrucatlons may bo seen of men, let the body bo nourished with light, pleasant food, that is thoroughly mastica ted before it Is finally* deposited for assimila tiolf you would live long, and be exempt from disease; resolve “henceforth and forever to eat just food enough to sustain life rnd no more ,n other words, cat to live, and not live to cat. Be Tnurnpoi. with Children.—Some peo ple tell lies to children with a view of enjoying a laugh at their credulity. This is to make a mock at sin, and they are fools who do it. The tendency in a child to believe whatever is told, is of God for good. It seems a shadow of pri meval innocence glancing by. _ Wo should reverence a child s simplicity. Touch it only with truth. Bo not the first to quench that lovely truthfulness by falsehoods. In an article on the recent quadruple ex ecution in Baltimore, the Baltimore American says truly: “ Let a young man once become familiarized with the revolver, and there is but a step between him and the halter. Ho who habitually carries a deadly weapon hidden upon bis person, is already a murderer in everything but the act, and the act only waits for an op portunity, and a little more whiskey than usu al.” Pupping.—Everybody wants to be pufied now-a-days. . A cotomporary says that when ho was in prison for libelling a justice of the peace, ho was requested by the jailor “to give the prison a puff.” Q!s”Tbo “progress of thooase’Ms having aVingular exemplification in Cincinnati. A colored man there has begun to turn while his back, one of his shoulders and one arm having completely lost their color. 1 AT $2,0 I Knew She WobW. Deacon W. was a staid and honest Baptist deacon in one of tho interior towns in this btato who had a vein of dry, caustic humor In his composition. The deacon had a boy of some dozen summers, who was somewhat inclined to bo a little ugly when not under tho parental oyo. In school, especially, John was a source of con stant annoyance to. tho teacher. One day tho mistress punished him for some misdemeanor, and John went home, crying, to enter his com plaint, and told his father that tho mistress had whipped him. “What!” exclaimed tho deacon, Cheating his eyebrows, “ been ?” •< Ya-a-s,” sobbed the boy. And did you let a woman whip yo!” shout ed the old deacon. , “ Ya-a-a. I couldn't help it.” •‘Wall, John, you little rascal, you go t 0 school to-morrow, and if Misa— — undertakes to whip ye agin, yon jest pitch mj don Met a Woman whip ye, if ye. can help it. Don t take any stick to strike with, but ye ■ may strike, scratch, bite and kick as much as ye re a mind °Tlio next day the boy wont to school,_and, emboldened by the permission given by his fa ther, was soon brought before the tribunal of violated rules. The teacher undertook to cor reel him, and ho did as his father had told him. The result was that John got a most unmerciful trouncing and was thoroughly subdued. When he went homo, ho went to his father, crying.; . u tVell, dad, I got an awful bad licking to day.” << What!”, said the old deacon, “have you lot that woman whip ye again J” “ T-a-a-s,” whimpered John. “ I licked her, and struck, and fit her all I could, but she lam med mo orfully.” ~ . “ Aha!” chuckled tho humorous old deacon, “ you tarnal little tool, I knew she would, and she’ll give ye a trouncing every time she under, fakes it s ,pnd I advise ye to behave yourself In future.” John began to have some perception of his father’s motive, and over after was a sadder and wiser boy. "Vanity.— Avoid exhibitions of vanity in the presence of even your most intimate friends.— A vain mind is invariably a weak mind. It may have evolved brilliant ideas —may have addbd much to the sum ot human knowledge and hu man happiness—but is nevertheless imbecile. There is no weakness so inexcusable in man as Vanity. A woman may be vain of her charms, of her feminine acquisitions, but she heed, not bo feeble of mind; for the vanity which charac terizes woman is different ftom that seen in man. In man it is allied to an ambition that is pitiful, and an egotism that enfeebles. Self esteem Is a necessary requisite in the composi tion of a true mental .character, and should not, therefore,. as it often is> bo confounded with vanity. Vanity is,insanity; self-esteem is force between tho two qualities there is a wide dif ference. “Sin, with vanity,” saith Milton, “has tilled tho hearts of men.” Too true. Johnson says: “No man’sympathizes with tho sorrows of vanity;” and Swift caustically writes, “that It , is the food of fools.” ■ Don’t lot ns be, misunderstood.. We not rail against tho quality of mlndfio\lod ; ‘‘Vanity.?? It is only against its undue exhibition that wo here speak in decided, language. It should not bo put forth even by fho opposite sox, of whom Pope Irreverently writes s <• Think not when woman's transient breath is fled That ail her vanities at once are dead— Succeeding vanities she still regards,” to such a degree that she would even have her toilet properly made for the grave. Vanity in man is allied to coxcombry, and .when* once it controls bis mind, ho “ May bid farewell—a long farewell — To all his (promised) greatness.” jy “ My lad,” said a traveler to a little boy whom be mot, clothed in pants, arid small jack et, but without a very necessary article of ap' parel, “my lad, where is your shirt 1” “ Mam i my’s washing it.” “Have you no other?” — “No other!” exclaimed the urchin, in surprise, “would you want a boy to have a - thousand shirts ?” O” “ You can’t even tell who made the mon key, for all you pretend to know so much,” said an impertinent fop to a clergyman, who had reproved him for'profanity. “ Yes I can,” said the clergyman. “ Well, then, who did make the monkey ?” “Ho who made you !" O* A little three year old girl waajiding in the cars with her mother, a few days since, when a lady remarked, “That's a pretty ba by !” The little girl’s oyos flashed fire as she drew herself up to her fullest height, and re plied, “I ain’t a baby—l wear boots and hoops'!" DC?” "Wife.” said a tyrannical husband to his much-abused consort, “ I wish you to make me a pair of false bosoms.” 41 1 should think, ’ replied she, “ that one bosom, as false as yours is, would bo sufficient.” Exit husband in a brown study. O” “My son,” said a doting father, who was about taking his son into business, " what shall be the style of the new firm 1” “ Well, governor,’ 1 said the youth, looking up to find an answer. “ I don’t know; hut suppose wo call it John H, Samplin & Fa ther.” . tCT* Miss Long, a girl of quick and fearless wit, asked Moses if he knew a certain young man. “Know him? “Oh, yes! I ought to know him. I raised him froth a pup.’ “Ah!” Said Miss Long, •• I didn’t know you were so old a cur." Moses wilted. What's that?” said a schoolmaster, pointing to the letter X. “ Daddy’s name.”— No, it isn’t your daddy's name, you block head, it’s X.” “I’ll be' darned if 'lis. It's daddy’s name, blowed if it ain’t. I've seen him write it often." “ Whd is that lovely girl ?” exclaimed the witty Lord Norbury, in company with his friend Counsellor’Grant. “Miss Glass," re plied the Counsellor. “ Ishouldoftcn boinlox icatcd could I place such a glass to my lips.” •• Did I hurt you ?” said a lady the oth er day, when she trod on a man’s tots. *" No, madam, I thank you, seeing that it's you: bul if it were any body else, I would have holletefl out murder!” K 7” Hearing a physician say that a small blow would break the nose, a rustic exclaimed, “ Well, I donno ’bout that. I’ve blowed my nose a great many times, and I've never broke it yet.” O” A farmer charged a hired man with ha ving an offensive breath, * * Thunder and light ning,” said the employee, " do you expect a man to breathe musk roses for six dollars a month?" tpy “ J declare." said Brown to Robinsotf, “ I ntver knew a flatter companion than yo&r self.” “ Ah, ray friend," laid Kobinson, “ all the world knows you are a Jlalter-tr. , ** I presume you won’t charge anything for just re-membering roe.” said a one-legged sailor to a cork-leg manufacturer. (£7” Why is a plan who makes additions to false rumors like one who has confidence in all that is told f Because he re/ies on all he hears. i ijpahyr■ The Harrisburg Telegraph, an AhofitfoA journal; publishes the speech delivered by Hon. John Hickman, before the bogus Convention, held at that place on the 13lh, jijt most heartily. And why not ? Mr. Hickman . gave in his adhesion to "the ultra Abolition doc trine of Senator Seward, talked about the eter nal hostility between slavery nod freedom, and applauded this principle in such make easily ttnftcrhtoPd what the Abolition par ly and Senator Seward mean by declaring that the Union must consist of “all free or all slave Slates." As Mr. Hickman pledges himself and the Bogus Convention to this sectional doctrine. Of course the Abolitionists will rtceiVe Hftto into full fellowship, and applaud their speeches and resolutions as heroic, wise and patriotic. This is a significant fact, but it is made more' pertinent and striking when the real position of the Telegraph upon the question of obedience to taw, and respect for the plain provisions of the Constitution are slated. In a recent numberof that journal the following paragraph appeared* “The underground railroad has done a good business ibis week. The reappearance here of the fugitive slave hunters, alarmed five or O* colored men, Originally from Virginia and Mia rytand, who have liVed here for the last ten years, and by the advice of some of our citizens they left for other parts. Two of them, em ployed at Herr’s hotel, were sober, industrious and honest men. They are no doubt in Canada by this time, beyond the reach of the Southern blood hounds." ” 1 . The same number also contains this addition al expression o\ tboVieSVs and feelings of this organ of the Abolition party, this eulogizer of Hickman and the Bogps Convention. , “The men stealers are still prowling about town, in search of more Victims, A whip should be put into the hands of every free man to lash the rascals who come here, like blood hounds, to hunt down the poor colored men and women who have escaped from the tyranny of southern slave-drivers. We regard these mer cenary dealers in human Uesh and blood as tha meanest specimens cl humanity extant. Oqr colored population would be justifiable in giv ing them a warm reception. Much as wo- de spise these men-,stealers, we feel still , greater contempt for the northern man who sacrifices his manhood by accepting the office of s’ave- Commissioner, and aiding in the rendition of the poor fugitives who have tasted the sweets of liberty." . _ " From this stand-point we ask the Democracy to view the endorsement of Mr. Hickinah by tha Telegraph. It is peculiarly just and proper that a paper which justifies thestealiog of other men's property—which counsels the negroes of Harrisburg to shoot down any officer of the law who may be delegated to carry put its man dates in that vicinity—which attempts to ex cite the passions and prejudices of the ignorant and unthinking against those who are acting under the authority of an act of Congress should stand forth as tho champion of a man who is in direct antagonism to the Union party of tho country, and n Convention called for thP purpose of aiding and abetting the Abolitionists in their attacks upon the Constitution and the. rights of the citizens of the several States under that instrument. Such interpretations of tha real meaning of the bogus movement and ns leaders are full of meaning. They are calcula ted to arrest the attention of men of all parties; who are not dishonest and corrupt, and cause them to pause before they approve the Conduct of men who hold such sentiments as', those pro mulgated by the Telegraph aid Mr. Hickman. This whole bogus movement is now fully idenj tifled with the most ultra and offensive form of Abolitionism, and there.we leave- it, and Hick man. Forney, Knox and their associates. _ Teimsylvanian, NO. 46. Gas Pipes and Shade Trees.— A commit Wb In Now Haven appointed to inquire , into the subject of tho injury done to shade trees by leakage item gas pipes, report that forty elms have been killed in that sity. trow tbl» cauao during thblast throb or four years, twenty-one of them last summer, owing to a flash, of lights ning Which followed the pipes under ground and caused leaks. - [b-,« Boy, what Is your father doing Id day f” ’••• Well, I’sposo he is-fall’n. I heard him tell mother yesterday to go round and get trusted all she could; and do it right off too-: for he’d got everything ready to foil, exceptin’ ■ that.” • Francis 1., a master of War and gallan try said; “A court without women is a'year without spring—a spring without roses.” But ho also said, or rather sung •• “A woman is very changeable—he’s ,o fool that-trusts her. A woman Is often but a feather, on the wind: Wo rather think ho said the one to their faces) the other behind their backs. It Is not what people eat, but what they digest that makes them strong. It Is not what they gain, but what they save that makes them rich. It is not what they road, but what they remember that makes them learned. It is not what they profess, but they practice that makes them righteous. These are very plain and im portant truths, too little heeded by gluttons) spendthrifts, bookworms, and hypocrites. The Gnowrito Chops.— Texas papers,' front Austin, Gonzales, Victoria and Matagorda, give the most cheering accounts of, the wheat and corn crops, and predicts a bountiful batvCst. From Ohio and parts of. Illinois, aleß, the pa pers report the wheat as presenting a thriving appearance, and covering a much-larger area than was sown last year. py A'doctor wont to bleed, a dandy, wild languidly exclaimed: , .. <>Oh, doctor, you’re a groat bucket.” To which the doctor replied: “Oh, yes, I’m used to sticking calves: py Some of the best men have left the world bitterly reproaching themselves for two things; lack of zeal, and lack bf industry in the im provement of time. . Religion and medicine are not responsi ble for the faul ts and mistakes of their doctors: \y it is with life as With coffee: he who drinks it puto must not drain it to the dregs. $y if you would enjoy youhblf, always he late at a ball—it’s past time. $y A medical gentleman says Owt Tartar emetic IS productive of great reltli edness. When id a ifidri like a foosief ? When his head is combed. O” He only is independent.who can maid tain himself by his oWn exertions. [C? - Always be up at Siiriflse if yOfl Wish to have the most golilert of prodpeote. O' Speak but little, and to J tie purpose, and you will pass for somebody. O” What is tho difference, hftween a fool and a looking-glass. One speakq.without reflecting i and tho other reflects" without speaking. O" Trufc beadty (i but virtue in Outvttfrfl grade. Beauty antf vice are disjoiri ed by nature herself. O” Wisdom is th' i olive which springs from! the heart, blooms on (he tongue, and Wart fruit in the actions. O* To do godd to oh’r enemied id to rcddmbld thd indeusd (vhdse aroffia perfidies the fire by Whidh it is consumed. O" In the conception of Jfahomet’d pdradisd there is no distinction between a pWfeot wohiatf and! an angel. rnr fo nctupoti ad'otcrminalion made ii» din g,r, M like embarking in a vessel during al storm. 03** To’ Speak harshly to: a persop of sensibil ity is like striking a harpsichord With youd fists. D!7* Vfe often hear it said of a sick man, that he enjoys bad health, Such is hot the case.— The only persons vrhd enjoy had health ate the doctors'.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers