AMKHICAS VOLUSTEJiR. 4 " >DBiISn Er > EVBRT TUtmsl)AV UoBKiH6.fii i Jobu B. Di attoii. T Ell MS.. : 'i. ■ SunabttiPTiON.— Oiio Dollar and Fifty. Cents, paid In advance j Two Dollars it paid within the year; and Two D'dllars un'dvFifty Cents, if not paid tvitHin theyear. These terms will be rig idly adhered 1 tb ‘irr every' instance. No sub-' scription 'discontinued until all arrearages are paid unless at tne option of the Editor; ( ADv’KnTisEHENTS— Accoihpanied by the cash, and not exceeding one square, will bo.ihserted three tlmosforOne Dollar, and twenty-five cents tor each additional insertion. Thoseofagreat tor-longth in proportion. Job-Fbintiho— Such ns. Hand-bills, Posting bills, Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, tico., &c., exe cuted with accuracy and at the shortest notice. petltal. THE OLD BURYING GROUND. DT J. <3. WHITTIER. Our vales are sweet with fern and rose, Our hills are ninplu crowned; But not from them our fathers chose The village, burving-ground. ’The dearest spot In all the land, To death they set apart; With scanty grace from. Nature’s hand, 7~ And nuno lrom that of Artr A winding wail.of mossy stone, Frost flung and broken lines, A lonesome acre thinly grown With grass and' wandering vines. Without the'wall a birch free shows Its drooped, and toisseled head; Within a stag .hoi-ned sumach grows Fern loafed, with spikes of fed. There sheep that graze the neighboring plain, Like white ghosts come and go • The farm horse drags his fetlock chain, is The eow-bell tinkles slow. tow mourns the rivcrfrbm its hod, Tlio distant pines reply; ' , Like mourners shrinking (rrim the dead. They stand apart and sigiu ' . Unshaded smites the summer sun, Unchecked the winter blast; i The school girl learns the plaoo to’shun, With-glances backward cast. .... ’ 1 - - For thus our fathers testified— That ho might read who ran—' The emptiness at human pride. The nothingness of man. They dared not plant the grave with flowers, Nor dress tile-funeral sod, i Where with a tovo as deep as ours, They left their dead with God. The" hard and thorny path they kept, From beauty turned aside; Nor missed they over those who slept, The grace tj life denied. • Yet still the wilding flowers would blow, The golden leaves would fall, The seasons come, the seasons go, And God he gooil to all. Above the graves Hie blackberry bung In bloom aiid green its wreath, And harebells swung as if they rung '. The chillies of peace beneath. The beauty nature loves to share, ' ’ The gift she has for all j The common light, tlurcommpn air, O’er crept the-grave yard’s wall. It knew the glow of eventide, Tlie Sunrise and the noon, And glorifl d and siinetiiied, It slept beneath the moon. I&tstellanmifl.’ Death. It has been well said Unit death is no respecter of persons. - Man 'is ever falling victim before tile conqueror. None are too insignificant to become bis fire}', none so powerful as to escape him.. And we are so accustomed to beholding his ravage that it isi only When some mightier than his tellows whoso life has been an illustra tion bt possibilities achieved by tew, has.fallep. that we pause in our labors and our pleasures to take heed of the fact., The year through-which We are how passing has witnessed the departure of many illustrious men.ofbur bwn and other lands. •; Prescott and Hallum are mf mure, and scores of other men, less distinguished, have .accompanied them into realms of the departed. And now, even as we write, there comes from acrbss'the ocean tidings of the death of two men distinguished above their kind in the field of science, one pre emi nently as to merit, the appellation of the man of the century,” which has been bestowed upon him. Of course wo allude to Alexander Von Hum. boldt. and to Dyonysius Lardner. The latter has done as much as, perhaps more than, any man of his age to popularize 'scientific know' ledge. His lectures and ids writings have open ed a vast field of thought and information to the common people—the class to which, more es pecially in his own land—custom and the feel ing of caste had previously denied all access to those fountains of knowledge from which the rich or well horn alone were expected to sip.— His labors, both in America and Great Britain; are too well known to need comment-. And now that he is' no more* det ail remember bis true benefactions to the masses rather than any wrong inflicted by him upon Individuals. Taking a Prime minister nt his Word. In the administration of the second Duke of Newcastle, Prime Minis'er in the reign of George 111. -This nobleman, with many good points and described by a popular cotemporary poet as almost eaten up by his zeal' for the HoUsp of H never, was remarkable - for being profuse of bis promises on all Occasions and valued himself particularly on being able to an ticipate the words or the wants of the various persons who attended his levees before they ut tered a syllable. This weakness sometimes led him into ridiculous mistakes and absurd em. barrassme'nts, 1 . At (ho election for a certain borough in Corn wall, where the ministerial and opposition inte rests.were almost equullypiii.sed.asinglo vote was of the liigliest importance; this object the Duke, by certain well-applied arguments, by the force of urgent perseverance and personal application, a'tjength attained, arid the gentle man - recommended by the treasury gained his election In the warmth of gratitude for so signal a: triumph, and in a quarter where the minister had generally experienced defeat and disappoint ment, his grace poured lorth acknowledgments and promises, without ceasing, on the fortunate possessor of the casting vote; called him his best and his dearest Iriend; protested that he Should consider himself as forever indebted to him; that he could never do enough for him ; that he would servo him, by night and by day. The Cornish voter, in the main an honest fel low, i«as things went,” and who would have thought himself already sufficiently paid, but for such a torrent of acknowledgments, thanked the Duke for his kindness, and told him the supervisor of exercise was old and infirm, and if he would:hayo the goodness to reoom mend his son-in-law to the commissioner, in case, ot the old. man’s death, he should think himself and his family bound to render govern ment every assistance in (heir power on any fu ture occasion.” New. Fashioned trPLB Pie- —Pare and quarter the apples; scald them; beat them with a spoon with some of the liquor; add grated Icmon-peil. the juice of a lemon, or Seville: nr ange. or apart of a quince, when they nre to be 6°t,doves, white sugar, finely powdered, and 4 Piece nf’buttcr: put npaslemund the dish, and cover it with bars or flnweas of paste, the excellence of the pie consisting of the sort of apple.and the goodness of the paste: the fruit ahauld' be raised ia the middle, as it shrinks in «W baking. n, .} ■ i ,i. s '• , - Ammran BY JOHN B. BRATTON. m. 46. Goad and Bad Luck. Good and bad hick arc much more intimate ly connected with character than is generally acknowledged H. W. Beecher, in a recent lec ture. says: *• There are mWn, who, supposing Providence to have an implacable spite against thein, be moan jn the poverty of d wretched old age. the misfortune of their lives. Luck forever, ran against themi and for others. One with good profession, lost his Itiok in the river; where he itlled away his lime a fishing, when he Should have been at his office. Another, Within -good trade, has perpetually burnt up his luck with liis temper, which provoked" id I his employers to leave him. Another, with lucrative business, lost his hick by amazing diligence at everything hut his business. Another, who was honest and constant at bis work, erred by perpetual misjudgements; he lacked discretion. Unit, dreds lose their luck by endorsing : by sanguine speculations; by trusting fraudulent'men : and by dishonest, gains. A man never has good hick who has d bad wife/ I never knew an ear ly rising.- hard working, prudent man; careful of his earnings, and strictly honest, who coni plained of- bad luck. A good.character, good habits, and iron industry, are pregnable to the assaults of all the ill luck that fools, ever dream ed of. But when 1 see a- tatterdemalion creep ing out of a grocery late in the afternoon, with his hand stuck in his pocket. Ihe rim of.his hat. turned up. and the crown knocked in; [ know he has bad luck—for' the worst of all lucks' is to be a sluggard, a tippler." Milan. Milan, the capito! of Lombardy, has a popu lation of about 160,000 persons, not including the Austrian,garrison and the strangers tempo rarily resident there. .It is suuated in a wide open plain. between ’ Olbna. and Saveso rivers, tributaries of the river Po. It has heen the scene of many a conflict of arms between rival nations, and litis, at different times, been under the dominion of Spain. AnStria and Prance.-- 11 was twice captured by the French, and in 1805 the first Napoleon made it the capital of the Kingdom.of Italy. By the treaty of 1815 it was restored to Austria, with the adjoining territory. Milan is a very ancient city, being founded 400 years before the Christian era. ft was in habited and embellished by many of the Roman Emperors, and has been Ihcbirth place of many eminent then, including a number of Popes.— It was several times almost destroyed during the wars which desolated the European CohW* nent. .It now contains many fine,public buil dings and the Cathedral, begun in IOSO. is one of ibe finest in the world It also contains the Cburoh.of St. Ambrnzia, where the Einperorsof Germany were crowned.' The city is nearly of a circular shape, enclosed on three sides'by a wall, surrounded with ramparts, nearly eiglft miles in circumference, and entered by ien gates'. It is distant from Vienna about 400 pules. An Extraordinary Exhibition. An jcxhibittoii of very remarkable anti unnat nrat character attracted a small bin highly 10- spectable audience at the Me odeon on Thurs day evening last. 1 A young man by the name of James Stevens had advertised that he would do many wonderful ihings in the way, of cut ting'himself tip with knives, nailing bis feet, arms and legs to chairs, to the wail.&c., which astounding exploits he.proceeded to exhibit at the appointed hour, in presence of a number of physicians of celebrity, including members of Hie medical faculty of TraiisylvaniaCilivetsily. and other learned professors, who were invited to the stand that/they', might detect any fraud or deception if practised. He began, by slick ing a handful of pins tip to the head in his legs ; then drove an awl through the ui'ddle of his wrist into a chair, drove a knife: through the muscle of his leg. nailed through the middle of the foot, and 'so walked about the stage, cut his dexter finger through the Uesh. exhibiting the naked bone, and concluded by passing a knife through,his cheek, the blade protruding from his.mouth. In all but little blood was drawn.; He also offered to drive a knife through each leg. and hang nitnself from the \va I, which ihe audience mercifully excused him from doing, feeling satisfied ibat lie could accomplish what ever he proposed. About the whole procedure there was ito sort of humbug, as ihe eyes, of divers’gentlemen, who were upon the stand, ivtre steadily fixed upon him. and any "unbe iteying Thomas” had an opportunity to touch the knife b udeon the opposite side lo that imo which, it had been - thrust, of the leg, wfist.or hand. He used a few galvanic rings about his person, which was probably more for show than anything else; as they could eflect nothing. Mr. Si evens looks to-be not more than twenty lor twenty-one years of age. Before closing he 'proposed to operate in a similar manner upon any one in the audience, agreeing, to forfeit $lOOO if he inflict ed pain.. This, howevcr. was prudently declined. , We saw this man of lea ther ear-y yesterday morning, looking as fresh and whole as though knife or nail had never penetrated his elastic body. Lexington (Kiy.) Observer• , Manners.— Young folks should be mannerly, but how to bo. is the question. Many good hoys and girls feel that they cannot behave to suit themselves in the presence ol company.— They are awkward, clownish, rough. They teel timid, bashful, and. self-distrustful, the moment they are addressed by a stranger, or appear in company. There is but one way to get oyer this fooling, and acquire easy and graceful man ners, that is, to do the best they cat) all the time at home ps well as abroad. Good tnanners are not learned so much as acquired by habit.— They grow upon its by use. Wo must be courteous, agreeable, civil, kind, gentlemanly, and womanly at homo, and then it will become a kind of sedond nature everywhere. A coarse rough manner at homo, begets a habit of rough ness which we cannot lay off. II we try, when wo go among strangers. The most agreeable per sona wo have ever known in company, are those that are, most agreeable at homo. Homo is the school for all the best things. Os'Talent.— Disappointed men who think that they have lalents,,and who hint that their talents have not been properly rewarded, usu ally finish their career liy writing their own history; hut in detailing their own misfortunes, they put its into the secret of their mistakes; and, in accusing the patrons of blindness, make it appear that they ought rather to have accus ed them of sagacity. , The following is from n North Carolina paper, and evinces strong “standing quakes,” with flic exception of the postscript: • “The editor of this paper is mostly to be seen in his office ,or At the lager beer saloon below it, treating suhserhors who have just ‘paid up. Persons desirous to pay their hills, or any enal jenges to light, in the absence oi the editor, j should he left in the bit mis of the foreman, or laid on our fable. Koll In. P. S. —Our creditors can’t get money out of us now, nor any other time except Sunday. (jy An old bachelor says fhaf marriage wae instituted for no other purpose than to prevent men sleeping dragonly in bed. ROMANCE EIITBAOBBINACr. A PENNSYLVANIA WOMAN TRAVELLING WITH A CIRCUS SEVEN TEARS IN MALE AtTIRE. Recently two individuals, calling themselves Jack and .Charlie, made their .appearance, in Chambersburg. and while sauntering through the town, the latter attracted much attention —appearance, voice and manner seeming to in dicate that he could not justly claim to be of the sterner sex. His companion. Jack, , had drank very, freely, and became uproarious in a saloon, incurring Ihe displeasure of the bar keeper, who compel ed him to leave. Charlie immediately followed, havirg-been advised- by soine one that "Sis" had better leave too. and as he retreated, declared that he was no "Sis. 11 Shortly afterwards Jack was arrested on the street for swearing. Char'ie became indignant at this, declared a "knock down” would be the consequence, and that he wo.u d "stay” with Jack under, any circumstances. Both jack and Chailie were arres.ed. and complaint haying been made by a'constable, the magistrate was about to comtnittliero to prison. Charlie be came boisterous, threatened all sorts of violence with different kinds of weapons, and was final ly searched. Noll) ng dangerous was found on his person, or with which he could execute his threats. Jack and Charlie went to prison, and ypf-e being some doubts of the seX of Charlie, the jailor considered it his duty to make an in vestigation. The regai nof the daughters of Malta was found in her possession, and the fact was disclosed that he was a woman. She gave a history of herself. . It would appear, that she was born and raised in the town' of Somerset, in.this Stine. Her name is Matildaßnshenber ger. arid she is about twenty four years of age. About seven years ago Dan Rice’s circus was in Somerset. Her lather, who is a blacksmith', did considerable horse shoeing for the circus, and from the visits of Rice to ihe shop, she be came acquainted with him. Rce endeavored to gel her brother to travel;with him. but he refused. He then, she alleges, persuaded ben to accompany him, and up to a short period she had been in his employ. She irlonned male attire from the time she started, and has been wearing it ever since Her occupation in the circus was equestrianism and vaulting, and. no doubt, she figured among; Rice’s "stars” as ‘ the belebrau-d Equestrian. Signor Somebody, fiOni Franconi's in Paris, and Aslley’s in Lon- She says she is not the only female >t«r ejtpigiin male attire with circuses in this coun. try,. Of course she is rough in speech, and from her degrading and brutal associations seims to have lost all fospect for the proprie ties off her sex. [From the Hopkinsville iKy.) Press.] Extraordinary Attempt at Assassination. LOVE—THE VILLAINS FLIGHT. A most remarkable incident occurred in one of the moat pub ic streets of Elk-on thq other day, and the causes are. as we have been in formed. about as follows• Some eighteen months or two years ago! Mr d t .'Purrish;or'Tnd(h'county,-ircenlieman.of good family, who stood fair, and who bad here tofore borne thecharacter of apeaceable.order lycitizen, paid his'addresses ip Miss Alice Ko herts; a young lady of beauty! imehigence, fine family, and most unexceptionable standing in •society in that, her native place, tie diiibt less received encouraging smbes # from his fair enslaver, for. after the usua l delays, ballings, and procrastinations, not inappropriately con sidered necessary on such occasions, he was ac cepted and they, became affianced. But, ns if 10 illustrate this old quotation—‘-the course of true love never did run smooth d fficullies arose no> foreseen by them. The insidious longii.e of slander doubile«s did its work—bred, discontent, and a coolness was the consequence, Winch, for a lime, seemed to have disposed of ihc matter without further par'ey,. “Lovers' quarrels are ever of duration short.” and the oreach was healed; at least apparently, for a time. Rumor says his relations—for causes not particularly avowed, bnf the ady’s lack of fortune, coimnensurated with his own. leaves room for suspecting the true source of dissat isfaction —objected io the match. When their objection became known to her. she. with char acteristic independence. and “the majestic dig .hiiy. of woman scorned.” for causes she deemed sufficient, irrevocably broke off the engagement. Thus matters stood on the 22d inst., when the parlies casually met late in the evening on Rtts selvilie street, in Eikion. Miss K. was walking down the street , accompanied by an acquaint ance of that place. Mr. Sherwood. Mr. Parrish —accompanied by a friend, whose name we did not learn, accosted Miss. R, and began a con versalton. in which he asked if it was her pur pose to persist in the determination or intcn.ton of discarding him. She unhesitatingly respon ded, ••Certainly it is.” At this avowal, he drew a pistol, remarking as.he did so--'‘Well, by G-d. madam, yon shall never have the plea sure of marrying anybody else.” With this he leve'cd the deadly missile at,her, and when its muzzle was within a few inches ,of, her breast pulled the trigger. Providentially, however, the cap exploded without discharging the pis tol. So unprepared was she for any such a dreadful and unexpected assault, that when the weapon was drawn, she so far mistook his pur pose, supposing that it was his intention to hand her something when he presented the in strument, that she reached out her hand, as if t 6 take it; The unutterable astonishment —the heart sickening terror —that must have seized her. upon divining his real purpose, when indicated by acts too unmistakably clear, can be better conceived than expressed. Site sprang front him with the most desperate effort to escape. In the act of doing so. the pistol was fired, the ball glanced near her head, cutting.away part of her head dress, and entering the doorcase ment in Mrs. Wel ls’ in fron t of which they had arrived. As may be expected, she fell fainting to the earth ; she was doubtless in the act of falling when the shot was discharged her fa'l was in all probability thecasualiiy which saved her life. ‘ Parrish - , doubtless impressed with the belief that he had consummated his damnable pur pose,' precipitately fled. leaving his saddled horse at the hotel door of the town. He bad not been heard from when last we received information from that locality. , CC7* *• yell, lasht night vash de vorst as never vash.' I (ought tp go down de hill to mine house, but no sooner did I valk. den de faster I stand sitil. for de darkness vash so lick dot I coot not stir it nitt mine poots, and do rain, duqder and plitzen. in more dan tree minutes my skin vash vet troo tp mine elethes. But af ter von little vile it stopped quiltin’ to rain something: so I kefep feclink all de vay long : and ven I come to my own house to valk in, vat you link? It'belong to, somebody else.” ()*?■■• Say, Pomp, ypmiigga, where you get dainewhat?” . •• Why at de shop, pb course, ; “ What is de price ob such an article as dll “ I don’t know, nigger, I don’t know—de shopkeeper wasn’t dar.” •• dim.- it always ite' nionT-*iiu,T mcatf on vWio'NGt, dim country.” CARLISLE, PAo TfIURS|AY, AUGUST 4, 1859. From the New York Sun. JEALOUSY AM BEVENCE--.WAN: SHUT, About 5 o'clock on Sauirdayiaflernoon, an attempt was nmdeby.Mr. Robert ,0. McDon- a cotton shipping..mcrehah£:'_rronv.Mol)ile, to murder Miss Viiginia SlewaWi ; ; kee|)cr of a house of ill fame in the city. qffMohile, Ala., and (or six years his misfress. ),'The parlies, it appears, met at Tnytor’s saloon.Kbpiit 4 o’clock in the afternoon. Miss SlewarLhayipgwith her two other females; innialijs of!p-'hou!>e of prosti tution in Marion street. The iHree:feinales sat at oite table, and McDonald at aiidlhtr near it. He called for wine and it was of hy themrafrerwhicnthey-ali-6(aft'ed~to-gODUt, and while waiting awards the door McDuna d had some conversation with Miss Stewart apart from the others..itnd it is underatundtlmt he endeavored tourge her id live with .him again, she having deserted him for another. . She re fused to. comply with his wishes, though lie urged her to do so whic walking up Broad way. • Oh reaching the,Brindreili ; Hbus?Jhe drew a, revolver, and Mins Stewart, fearing that ho in tended shooting her, screamed ttnd'rnstied upon the steps of the thaift entrance'tblthe ho’cl.' and I was instantly shutdown. the,ball from McDon-1 aid’s pistol haying entered the leftside of herJ forehead, and lodged in the substance of the I brain. She was immediately’ conveyed tb.a drug store in the. vicinity. nrrwas;jif*e»leddoiiigso by some bystanders. l who'syixed him. fmme diately ufier the ncciiireiye, a.crowdcotmm'nc ed to collebl arid ill a Ifew tntdht|3 it numbered tliousapds, but mo effort to, interfere with the offibeiH , ifesitd. Aitiiut '9 Brady visited McDnnu (I irihis-cd l.a n(i /jy .sta ted to the Aldcimanl.nhat hit hitd beetf’living with the woman for ffvebr sjx years, and. had been so wrapped up with her that be coiild : npl shake her off. He finally.’ for the purpose, of getting rid of her. left Mobile and came to this city, whither she followed, for the double pur pose ot meeting him and getting a fresh supply of girls for her house. He staled further, that on Saturday afternoon, lie met her at Taylor’s saloon, with two other females; and tried to persuade her to go away with him, but she re fused. She had been drinking freely, and he was also, at the time under ihc'inlluence of liq nor. , • .., It appears that Miss Stewart was accompan ied from Mobile.to this city by another female, who stales that Miss S. was .very anxious to get rid of McDonald, as he could not support her in the style she. wished and’ for that piir pose, ,when she arrived here she put up at a house in Marion street, with a friend who cur ried on a like infamous business. This state inent is corroborated by that of others, and is probably the correct one. McDonald Isa na inaiive of Kentucky; about 30 years of age.and of commanding* personal. appearance. . Dr Qninby, of the New York HospUaT. has Miss Stewart under his care, but entertains no hope of her recovery. At a lute hour last evening. Dr. Quinby in formed our. reporter :hat the woman (Miss Stewart was as well os could be expected. She lay most of her time in a lethargic state, and is attended by the friends who Were with her at the time of the occurrence. Inflamation had not yet set in. and life might linger for days yet, although there is no-hope for her recovery. Arrival op Blacks from Canada, for the South.— The packet Union arrived from Port Stanly, Canada, with sixteen fugitive, slaves, who had escaped from the South .at various pe riods within Iho last two years, and who had been living at the negro settlement at Chatham, Canada West. Becoming weary of Canadian freedom, which to many blacks, embraces the exalted liberty of going inadequately clothed, and of being nearly starved to death, they were about to return to the South, preferring a plan tation life to tha responsibilities .attendant on a state of existence for which circumstances have rendered them peculiarly disqualified. One fa mily, consisting of a colored man, his mother, wife and three children, who escaped near Paris, Kentucky, about one year ago, alter the expo-. Hence afforded by a hard Canadian winter, be gin to sigh for their‘Old Kentucky Home,' and a short time ago they wrote to their master, in forming him of their desire to return', and re questing, him to meet them at Cleveland. .When they arrived on the old packet their master was there to meet them, and they , expressed their gratification at. the meeting In a manner which denoted a sincere regard lor him.r ‘Old Aun ty,' a venerable negress, whoso black unci shin ing Tace stood out in stiange contrast with her hair, white as the driven snow, took occasion to ‘sprees her .mind* in-regard toCanada, ‘Dey kin talk all about dar freedom ober dar, (point ing with a cane brake finger across the blue water, it» the direction marked by the Union s wake) but I’d. a heap lovoyor stay with dem down in old Konfuck ’ The entire party t°°k the .train for Cincinnati, happy in the thought that they were going honio.~C/«o$«w»a petno . : (C7* A Indy not far off gives her views of wo man’s rights to the world. She is against the interference of women in politics. She asks pointedly; . 1 ‘•lf men can’t do the voting, and lake care of the country, what is the use of .them I ’ • That’s a poser. We think she will pass. , • ’ fry A stranger meeting a man in the streets of Boston, a few days since, roughly accosted him with Here. Want to go tothe Tranent House:’’) The deliberate reply. waa‘.‘ Well, you can go. if you .don’t be gone long!” ICT" Ne man can tell whether he is rich er poor by turning to Ink ledger. It is the heart that makes a rich man.' He is rich or poor, ac cording.to what bo is, not according to what he has. Xloluiitwr, Tlie Sickle’s BeconciHation. Wo find the following letter from Daniel E. Sickles, respecting the reconciliation of himself and wife, in the Neff York Herald of VVednes day, the 20tb ult. The letter Will Command universal’attention, and set at rest all doubts of the first report. We have neither words of reproach or commendation for the act. As sta ted before in these columns, let the parties if they cun find rest, enjoy it to the fullest extent. New Yoke, July 19,1859. Through the course of sad events, which dn ring the last few monthlThave brought so much affliction Upon my family, I have been silent.— No amount of misrepresentation affecting my self only could induce trie now to open my lips.; nor could I deem it worth while under any cir- cnmslances to notice what has be n or can be said in journals never regarded as the sources or the exponents of pub ic opinion, for in-these it is too often.obvious that on'y unworthy mo tives prompt the most vindictive assaults upon the private life of citizens holding public sta tions. But the'editorial comments in the Her ald of yesterday, although censorious (of which I do not complain, whilst I read them with re grel.) differ, sp widely in lone and temper from the mass of nonsense and calumny which has lately beyi written concerning a recent event in mv domestic relations, that I cannot allow a mistake, into which you have been led by inac curate information, to pass without such a cor rection as will relieve others from any share of the reproaches, which it is the pleasure of the multitude at this moment to heap upon me arid mine., , Refefring to the]forgiveness which my sense ° r duty and my .feelings impelled me to extend loan erring and repentant wife, yon observe, in the course of your temperate and dignified article, that. “ It is said, however, that the last phase of the affair was brought about through the advice of his lawyers.” This is entirely er roneous. I did not exchange a word with one of my counsel upon the subject, nor with any one else. My reconciliation with my wife, was my own adt. done without consultation with any relative, connection, liiend or adviser. What ever blame, if any belongs to the step, should fall'alone upon me. lam prepared to defend what I have done before the only tribunals I recognize as having the slightest claim to juris diction over the subject —my own conscience and the bar of Heaven. lam not aware of any statue or dude of morals, which make it infa ; iikjus to forgive a woman; nor is ii usual to make our domestic life a subject of consulta-. lion with friends, no matter how near and dear to ns And I cannot allow even all the world ,combined to dictate to me the repudiation of my wife, when I think it right to forgive her. and restore her to iny confidence and protection. If 1 ever failed to comprehend the utterly des olate position of an. offending though penitent woman— the hopeless future, with all its dark possibilities of danger, to which she is doomed when proscribed as an outcast — I can now see ■plainly enough, in the almost universal howl of denunciation with which she is followed to niy , and perils from which I ■ha ve iSeiied -1 fie" ”dT niy child; , And , although it is very sad for me Io incur the blame of friends and the reproaches of many wise and good'people. I shall strive to prove to all who feel any interest in me, that if I am the first man who has ventured to say to the world an erring wife and mother may be forgiven and re deemed, that in spite of all the obstacles in my path the good results of this example shall en title it to the imitation of the generous and the commendation of the just. There are many who think that an net of du ty, proceeding solely from affections which cun only be comprehended in the heart of a husband and a father, is to be fatal to my professional, political and social standing. If this be so. then so be it. Political sla ion, professional success, social recognition, are not the only prizes of ambition : and f have seen enough of the world in which I have moved and read enough of the lives of others to teach me that, il one be patient and resolute, it is the man him self who indicates the place he will occupy ; and so long as I do nothing worse tlmq to re-unite my family under.the roof where they may find shelter from contumely and persecution, I do not fear the noisy but fleeting voice of popular clamor. The multitude accept their first jm piesston from a few : but in the end men think for themselves, and if f know the humnri heart —and sometimes I think that a career of min gled sunshine and storm I have sounded nearly all its depths -then I may reassure those who look with reluctant forebodings upon my future to be of good cheer, for I will not cease to vin dicate a just claim to the respect of my fellows : while to those motley groups, here and there, who .look upon my misfortunes only as weapons to be employed for my destruction, .to those I say, once for all, if a than make a gnod use of his enemies they will be as serviceable to him as hjs friends. ‘ fn conclosion, let me ask only one favor of those who. from whatever motive, may deem it necessary of agreeable to comment in public or private upon this sad history : and that is, to aim all their arrows at my breast, and fur the sake of my innocent child to spare her yet youthful mother, while she seeks in sorrow and contrition the mercy and pardon of Him to whom, sooner dr later, we must all appeal. Very respectfully. Your most obedient servant, Daniel E. Sickles. .Happiness.—Wo have nothing to do with happiness. Tt comes, or if does not come. It obeys no regulation. It is secured by no plan, no wisdom, no fine, scheme of thought, no hu man policy or persuasion. The very caprices of life forbid the idea of happiness. Wo are to undergo an ordeal—to work out a certain result —about which wo .ourselves have no certainty. We ate in the hands of a power in which our hands are powerless—which heeds little hope, or sigh, or dream, or suitor. Wo must keep our hearts silent; stifle what we can; resign, as readily aa possible, what we can; indulge in few expectations; leave (ill that wo can to the Pow er whoso will is absolute, and before which all our purposes shrink into nothingness. I am not a fatalist, when I believe in the Providence ■‘That shapes our ends; rough hew them how we will.” . I have erred like the rest, but I am not get ting obdurate. I have simply survived hope— at least In all things in this miserable state of ordeal which wo call life. FnotT Wapeks pou Dessebt. —Take cur rants. cherries, apricots, or any fruit; put them into an eanhen, jar in a kettle of water, and when scalded strain them through a sieve; tri every pint of juice add the same weight of finely sifted sugar and the white of a small egg: bent all together until it becomes "quite thick; then put it upon buttered paper in a slow oven: let them remain until they will quit the paper : then turn them, and leave them in the oven un til quite dry: cut them inlo shapes, and keep them between paper in a box near the fire. is announced, for tho benefit of those persons who did not get a sight ul tho comet, that it will again appear before the public, tor few nights, in tho autumnal 2,147. AT $2,00 PER ANNUM CALVES, Nothing is more important to the successful rearing of stock, than that the young animals should receive a "good start" in life, and it is idle to expect a return from any animal which has been half-starved and uncared for during theflrsi few months of its existence. When we look into a farm yard and see the young calves cringing and shivering in the cor tiers, their legs drawn together under them ns if they were huddling together for sympathy, their long, rusty, lifeless-looking hair standing at right angles with the body, their paunches stuffed with coarse, unwholesome, or itmtitri tous-food until they are swelled toan enormous size, their eyes dull, dreamy and listless, and the who'e general appearance impressing one vividly with the idea that-there is indeed such a thing as a state of semi-existence, we do not require to be told that the owner is a poor man. Such management will make any man poor in a short time. The future thrift and value of bur herds de pends much ,upon the management of theyoung animals during the first four mouths of their lives. When in ir stale of nature, the calves are nourished during this period almost entirely by the milk of their dams, and there can be little doubt tltat when the health and growth of the calf is the principal object with the breeder, it should be allowed to run with the cow. But to the very many farmers the milk is of 100 much value to permit this, and the calves must be artificially reared. When this is done the ca'f should not be taken from the cow before the second or third day. or until-the milk of the dam is fit for the purpose of the dairy. We are. aware that many breeders advise taking the calf from the cow before jl has been allowed to suqk. urging as a reason that the calf will much more easily be taught to drink if it is never allowed to get its food in the natural way. This may be true, but there js very lit t'e trouble.iri leaching the calf to drink if it has •been allowed to run with the cow a day or two. and there is a very important reason why this should be done. The foeces that accumulate in the intestines during the latter months of the fcetul state are dense and adhesive, and voiding the excitement is at first, often attended with some difficulty. By a wise and admirable pto vision of nature, the fiyst milk of the cow pos sesses certain laxinvc pioperlies which materi ally, assists in establishing the healthy action of the intestines, and it is very important that this milk should.constitute the first food of the calf. When the calf is taken from the cow it should be removed as far ns is convenient from her that it may not be rendered 'unnecessarily rest less by her lowing. It should be fed entirely on new milk for a few days until it becomes no customcd to the change, when -skimmed milk’ cits gradually be substituted for the new. “in Axo to Grind’—Origin of the Term. “ When I was a little boy," says Dr. Frank lin, “ I remember one cold winter morning 1 was accosted by a smiling man with an axe on his shoulder. “My pretty boy," said he •• has your father a grindstone ?"'■• Yes, Sir," -said-rfw Y’ou area fine litilo fcllow.’lsaid.he. “ trill you let me grind my axe on it Pleas Icd with the compliment of the " fine little fel low,” “ Oh! yes.” I answered. it is down in the shop.". “ And will ymi. my little fellow." said he, patting me on the head. “ get me a lit.. lie hot water ?” Could [ refuse? 1 ran ami soon brought a kettle full, . “ How old are you and what is .your name ?” continued be, with out waiting for a reply : " I aui sure you ore one of the finest little fellows I ever saw. will you just turn n few minutes for me?” Tick led hi the flattery, like a fool, I went to work, and bitterly did I rue the day. It whs a new axe, and I toiled and tugged till 1 was almost tired to death. The school bell rang, and I could not gel away.; my hands were blistered, the axe was sharpened, and the man turned to me with. " Now, you little rascal, you’ve play cd the truant; scud fur school or you will rue it.” Alas I thought I, it is hard enough to torn, the grindstone this cold day, but to he nailed a little rascal was too much. It sunk deep in my mind, and often bare I thought of it since! •• When I see a mernhant'over polite to his customers, begging them to take a little bran dy, and throwing his goods bn the counter, thinks I that man has an axe to grind, When I see a man flattering the people, making great profession of. attachment 10 liberty,; who is in private life a tyrant, methinks look out- good people, that fellow would set you turninjua grindstone. ■ When I see a man hoisted intS of fice by parly spirit, without a single qualifica tion to render him respectable or useful, alas'! deluded people, you are doomed for a season to turn the grindstone for a booby.” A Good Reason. Many a glorious speculation has failedjbr the same good reason that the Texan Ranger,gave when he was asked why he didn’t buy land when-it was dog cheap. A correspondent tells the story. Well, I did come nigh onto taking eight thousand acres onset.” said old Joe. mournful ly. •• You see, two of the boys came in one day from an Indian hunt without any shoes, ond of fered me their titles to the two leagues just be low here, for a pair of boots.” *• For a pair of bools ?" I cried out. “ Yes, a pair of boois for each league?”. “But why on earth didn’t you take it?— They’d be worth a hundred thousand dollars to-day. Why didn't you give them the bouts ?” “Jest 'cause I didn't have the boots to give.” said old Joe, as he took another chew of tobacco, quite as contented as if he owned the two leagues of land. ' [£7- Mr. Sickles is perfectly astonished to find that his reconciliation with Mrs. Sickles is regarded with horror by every respectable per son. He will bo as completely ostracised from association with gentlemen, as if ho had just completed fifteen years servitude in the. State prison. It is a source of regret to his ex friends that the 1 Washington Court did not find him guilty of manslaughter, and sentenced him for about 15 years. His future punishment, how ever, will be fearful. Some wag said the other day, that Dan Sickles would never want meat for his dinner. “ Why so I” was asked. “Be cause all his friends have resolved to present the ‘cold shoulder’ to him daily.” O” “ Father, do folks make clothes out of peas?" “No, foolish boy, why do you ask that question. Simon?" “ Why, I heard a sailor talking about his pea-jacket ?’ When a young lady catches you alone ; lays violent hands on you express “kiss’ in every glance — don't you do it, |ry “ What papers off my writing desk are vnu burning there ?” cried an author to the servant Rich " Oh. only the paper what s a written over, sir; I Lain't touched the clean. When you arc offered a great bargain the value of which, you know nothmgabout. but which you are to got at half price, • being you —dontyoudo it. gfoop together from onr exchanges of tho last wees or two, thh following exhibit Of the crimes which appear to have sprung direct . , ou , l ° r *h° marriage relation. Upon this truly lamentable picture of morals, we leave tho reader to make his bflrn tiototnetild s . A Wire Muedeu is CoSmiohout.— John p. forth n i. ar ? >ted at Willin Kton, Connecticut, her l In ur . dt!r of hiB 7 0Un B wife. tjjy strangling - whi, ° they were bathing, has . confessed the awful crime. Ho says that they f^ nt t J'' l “{ h 8 ' va, He bad been improperly intimate with her sister and she had him arrested, with a view of forcing'him to have her. Tho unfortunate Woman Was under medium size, with full bust, rosy cheeks, dart brown nair, blue eyes,- and withal quite pretty. Suicide, of a Frau. aeU Paituiess Wife.— Mrs. Mary Boring, formerly residing with her husband at No. 27 J Chfystic street, died on Wednesday at the New York Hospital, . Hunt tho effects ot a quantity of oil of Vitriol Which site took on tho 11th inst., tor the purpose of self-destruction. Infidelity to her husband and remorse of conscience are stated to have indu. ced .tho act of suicide. Two years ago she abando(icd-him-for-ft lovefj with lihßm-ahfrJivi^ — ed for a low weeks, and then returned to her husband, who forgave and received her. , A year afterward sbo again eloped with another lover, with whom she lived (or several months, and then was abandoned. Again she returned to her husband, and again she was forgiven.—■ They lived together happily after that until about a month ago when she, for the third lime, eloped, and after an absence of two weeks once more camo back, expecting to be welcomed aai before, but this time she failed to effect a recon ciliation with her injured husband, who refused to have anything to do with her. Alter much, entreaty, finding that she could not move him,’ and learning that he had taken the necessary step to obtain a divorce, she took the lawwito her own hands, and ended her miserable eartniy career. - NO. 8. Another Sickles Tragedy. — We learn this morning, says the Wilmington, (N. C.) Herald of Wednesday week, that Mr. Jere Collins, bn Saturday lust,at Cainluck, in this countyj. shot and killed a free negro named David Jones.— Cause of the killing, as we have been informed, was alleged improper intimacy of Jones with the wife of Collins. Collins shot him four (totes and then left him, buMhluking be had not kill ed him returned and shot bis victim tiro times more io finish him. Sad Tragedy—A Mother Drowns Herself and Child —On Thursday week last, Coroner Canole. of Queens county, held an tugboat upon the bodies of.a woman named June Wiutefn and her little daughter, aged two years, who were found drowned in a creek, near the resi dence of Thomas Wakefield; at Jamaica South. It appears that some two years since Mrs. Win tern’s husband left her for some reason and went to the west. Soon after thb birth of lier child she followed him, but soon after returned with out him, and took her residence with the family ol Mr.,Wakefield. On Wednesday she was ob served to be more than usually'ipelancholy, and lute at night was observed by'Mfs.’Waketleld to go bat of the house, dud ofter-walking a'short distance returned. She left the hodse in this, manner several limes during the night, and finally retired to her room. Thursday she went in the morning, taking Iter little daughter with her, as it tor a walk. Wot returning, at noon, search was made for her, when, on the bank of a creel: near the house, her hat and shawl, and a few stops further her lifeless body and that of. her.child, werb found in the waters of the creek, taco downwards, she having the child clasped in her arms. Tiibowiro a Wife out of a Window— John Fay, who resides at Cypress street, was arrested by officer Fonniman for throwing his wife out of a window some 17 feet'abovo the sidewalk. Dr.vfones was called to attend her, and consid. ered her in tydangerous condition on account of internal injuries. It appears that Fay and his wife retired as usual last night, and that about II o’clock ho arose and felt the’house, where upon his wife got up and fastened the dear , against him. Upon Ins return, and immediately on effecting an entrance into the house, he seiz- . ed his wife and pitched her out of the window. Fay wits brought before (|to police court to-day, and, waivipg an examination, was comiiiiiii-il for trial in default of bail in $lO,OOO. — Eosioii Journal, July 21. Another Horrible Suicide.—A Young Mother Kills Herself through Grief for the loss of her Child.—On the.9th ult., a horrible suicide was discovered on the Gravois road, near McNair avenue, St. Louis, Mo. Mrs. Mary Ann Appleby, wife of James Appleby, , mate of the steamer Louisiana, had for several weeks been laboring under a mental depression, i caused by theMeath of her child. Her friends had watched her from day to day, but did hot ‘ ’ fear she would attempt her own life. The bro- • brother in-law of Air. Appleby went into a back room, and saw a large pool of blood near the door and an open razor lying near a trunk. Mrs. Appleby was gone, and the awful truth flashed upon their minds that she had cut her throat and then flung herself into the cistern.— The cistern was immediately Searched, njnd the body of the unfortunate woman was foinid at the bottom. When drawn out, she appeared to have been in the water for two hours, A horrible gash had been made by the razor, but it is the opinion of the coroner that Mrs. Apple py would have survived this if she had not jumped into the cistern. Mrs. Appleby was very respectably connected, and; before grief had proved so heavily upon her, she was an in teresting and beautiful woman. Her friendf are in-deep distress from this terrible affliction. An Austrian Detachment Taken Prison ers bt a Railway Engineer.—Among the many lighter passages of the war with which the Parisians amuse themselves, we find in the sport the story of the capture of a detachment of Austrians who were taken prisoners by tho engineer of the railway. It appears that the Austrians were cn route for Pcschierra, to rein force Gen. Urban, when the engineer, whoso sympathies were naturally on the Italian side, •• switched off,” and conveyed the Tutonic he roes into tho middle of the allied camp. Hero they were politely escorted from the railway carriages by the French soldiers, who. with that amiable politeness for which the nation is dis tinguished, saluted their enemies with “ All those who are going to France will please change cars ?” The feelings o( the Austrians, at finding themselves taken prisoners in so ig noble a manner, may be imagined but not de scribed. Evbuktt’s Opinion op Loots Napopsow.— “ lie has given to Franco the strongest govern ment —equivalent, I fear, in that country to the best government —which she has had since the downfall of his Unde. Ho has completed pub lie works, beneath which the magnificent pro. ’ fusion of Louis ihe Fourteenth staggered. j Ho ’ has decorated and improved Pans beyond all ' his predecessors on the throne, and projected ; and accomplished the most gigantic imderta ' kings throughout the interior along the coast of - France. Abroad ho has consolidated the con quest of A'geria—maintained an undoubted su . neriority for Franco over the armies of England / associated with her in the Crimea t-T-formed a firm alliance with Great Britain his uncle waged an internecine war for twenty rears • and has restored his country to her for merrank in the politics of Europe, Inaccom- Dlishine these objects, the press has been let tcred and the tribune silenced, and those liber ties which the Anglo-Saxon mind regards as the final cause of the political society of men, have been greviously abridged. But Fratp . has yet 10 show that she is capable of enjoying them in peace." When you have any businesa to transact with a modern financier, and he asks you to go and dine with him— don’t you do it. Sfalrlmoßial trlmeis