AMKHICAS VOLUSTEJiR. 4 "
>DBiISn Er > EVBRT TUtmsl)AV UoBKiH6.fii i
Jobu B. Di attoii.
T Ell MS.. : 'i. ■
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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. nrr<f: : lhunbe to the
New York Hospital, where, she, lies, with very
little prospect of surviving (he injury. Mc-
Donald was promptly ariestcd; and taken to
the Eighth Ward station; house,', where he re
mained ah night, and oh Sunday morning was
brought before inslice'Conrielljvwho commit
ted him to a cell in Ihe TotnbS.On his person
was found the revolver; with two charges iri.it,
and an e'egnrii dirk, also a letter addressed to
Mr, John, W. Smith. Mobile,'Alabama, which
read as follows: ’"-V
Mr Dhaii John—l am about to commit that
which will asionish you; and most of ntv frends
in Mobi'e—l have left .some inStructijms with'
Messrs. Simeoti, fjelaiid & Co.,in.regard to my
body, but haye since of the amount
I fitst wanted. leaving $l5OO in their hands,
which, after deducting niy expenses','l will re
mit to v’ou. . i '
Affectionately yours, forever, ■ 808,
My love to Harry and the,boys.
‘ The following was added.vin pencil, at; the
bottom of the letter: ’
‘- And to yoti 'who find-; nty, body, have my
trunks open ahi) you will sqb'i'. ettor addressed
to Messrs. Sjmeoit, in fegai d to a
disposition of my with my
beard on. '
Respeotfoll v yoiifs,®;; -
■ RO B’T., 0,/MoDON A LD.
Metropolitan 110 eli”
Front the above it would appear that McDon
ald intended ,self;diaiructibri;r|»iid. in fact, im
mediately after shooting tlitp vfotuan he attempt
ed to shoot himself,.Jbu!>was;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,<J f «o bathe, which accounts
for hel being found nearly naked. Ho pushed
her over and held her down till she drowned.
He lett the body in the brook until tho next
day, when finding that it floated, ho removed it
a short distance into the brush, whence, on tho*
next Monday, Juno 0, ho removed It to the
place where it was found, just within tho towil
■ of Ellington. There he visited it a number ot
, times.. His wife was about fifteen years of age
when monied, and he seventeen. > 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