PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY MORNING ,DT Jobu B. Hi'altou. TERMS SußSOßiPiioiir.r-Ono Dollar and Fifty Cents, naid in advance j Two Dollars 11 paid within the year; and Two Dollars and Fifty Cents, if not paid within the year. These term's will bo rig idly adhered to in every ' instance. .No su.lK scription discontinued' until ail nrrcaragca'are paid unless at the option of the Editor. J ' ■ Advertisements — Accompanied by theoAstt, and hot-exceeding one square, will be inserted three times for One-Dollar, and twenty-live cents tot each additional insertion. Those of ngreat ler length in proportion. • - Job-Printing —Such ns Hand-bills, Posting bills, Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, tyc., &c., exe cuted iyith accuracy and at the shortest notice. THE WORLD IS FULL OP BBADTV. There is beauty in the forest, Where the trees are green and fair). There is.bcauty in the meadow,.. Where the wild flowers scent the air; There is beauty in the sun.light, And a soft blue beam above, Oh ! (he world is full of beauty, When the heart is full of love. ■ There is beauty in (he fountain, ’ J Singing gayiy at its play, While the rainbow hues are glittering On its silver shining spray; There is beauty in the streamlet, , Murmuring softly through the grovo, . Oh! the world is full of beauty,, When the heart is full oflovo. There in the moonlight, ■When’tt falls upon the sea, When the blue (oam crested billows Dance and frolic joyously j There is beauty in the lightning'gleam, • That o’er the dark waves roll, Oh ! the world is fpll of beauty, When the heart is full ol love. There is beauty in the brightness ■ Beaming from a loving evo, , In the warm 'blush of affection, In the tear of sympathy: In tlie sweet low voice whose accents The spirit’s gladness prove: Oh! the world is full of beauty, When the heart is full--of love. WENT A BERRI'INC. On a sunny summer morning, . Early as the dew was dry. .. . Up the hill I;went a berrying: Need I tell you—tell you why ? Farmer Du vis had a daughter, ; And it happened that I knew, On each sunny summer morning Jenny Up the hill went berrying 100. Lonely work is picking berries. So I joined tier on the hill. VJcnny dear,” said I, “your basket’s Quite too large for qne to fill." So we staid—we two —to fill it, Jenny talking—l was still— ri: Leading where the hill was ; Sleep, .1 ■ 1 Picking berries up the hill. ' f*This is up hill business,” said Jenny ; “So is life,” said I, “shall we , f Climb it each, alone, or Jenny, . ; .Will you come and climb with me ?” ||||p‘'Redder than the blushing berries Hr l ' penny’s cheeks a moment grew,, |r| . While, without delay, she answered, “I will come and climb with you'." ' THE YOUNG WIFE *, " OR, THE-SHADOW . A young wife had , busied herself .for many •days in preparing a pleasant surprise for. her. husband. The work (turn finished at last; and nowslie awaited,bis return, with a heart full of warm emotions. A, dressing-gown, and a pair of elegantly embroidered slippers, wrought by Iter own skillful fingers, weio the gifts with Which she meant to delight him.: What a troop of pleasant fancies was in herhcart I How, al most impatiently, did site wait for the coming twilight, which was to bo the dawn, not of ap proaching darkness, to bcr !■ At last, she heard the step of her husband in the passage, and her pulse leaped with flutter ing delight. Like a bird upon the wing, she almost flew down to meet him, impatient for the salutation that awaited her. To men in the world of business few days pass without their disappointments and perplexities. It is men’s business to bear these in a manly spirit. They form but a portion of life’s disci, pline, and should make them'stronger, braver, and more enduring. Unwisely, and we may say unjustly, top, many men fail to leave their business cares and .troubles in their work-shops or counting-houses, at the day’s decline.. They wrap them in bundles and carry them home to 'shadow their households. It was so with the young husband on this par ticular occasion. The stream of business had taken ah eddifying whirl, and thrown his vessel backwards, instead of onwards,, for a brief space; and though it was still in the current, apd gliding safely onward again, the jar and dis appointment had. fretted his mind severely.- There was no heart-warmth in the kiss he gave bis wife, not because love had failed in any de. gree, but because ho had let care'oveishadow love. Ho drew his arih around her; but she was conscious of a diminished pressure in that embracing arm. “ Are you not well 7” she inquired. With what tender concern was the question •asked I “ Very well,” ho replied. Ho might ho in body, but not in mind; that was plain; for his voice was far from being cheerful. She played and sang his favorite pieces, ho ping to restore by the charm of music, bright ness to his spirit, • But she was conscious of only partial success. There was still a gravity in his manner never perceived before. At tea time she smiled upon him so sweetly across the table, and talked to him, on such attractive themes, that the bright expression returned to his countenance, and bo looked as happy as she could desire. Alter tea was over, the young wife judged the proper time had come for offering her gift, and receiving the coveted reward of glad sur prise, followed by sweet arid loving words.— Was she selfish? Did she think more of her reward than of the pleasure she would bestow t But that is-questioning too closely. . _ , ■ “ I will be back in a moment,” she said ; and, passing from the room, she wont lightly up the stairs. Both tone and manner betrayed her secret, or rather, the possession of a secret with which husband was to bo surprised. Scarcely had her loving face faded from, before Ids eyes, when thought returned, with a single bound, to the unpleasant events of the day ; the waters of bis life were again troubled. He had actually arisen and crossed the floor once or twice, moved by a restless, concern, when his wife came back with tiio dressing gown and slippers. She was trying to force her countenance into a grave ex. pression, to hold back the smiles that were_ con tinually striving to break the truant circles around her lips, when a single glance at her husband’s (ace told her that spirit, driven away hy the exorcism of her love, had returned again to his bosom. Ho looked at her soberly as she came forward. “ What are these ?” he asked, almost coldly, teproasing surprise, and affecting an Ignorance mat ho jid no t f ee ] j n regard to the beautiful present she held in her hands. 1 “ They are for you, dear,” was the reply. “I Wade them.” “ For me I” he exclaimed; ('nonsense I what oo I want with such iinicrackcry I This is wo- Joan’s wear. Do yoit think I would disfigure "V foot with embroidered slippers,i or dress up 11 that gown ? Put them away, dear. Your O'sband Is too much of a man to robe himself Kay colors, like a clown or an actor.” And 0 'raved his band with an air. of contempt. American BY JOHN B. BRATTON. VOI. 46. : CARLISLE, PA*, THURSDAY, AUGUST 11, 1859. There was a cold sneering manner about him partly affected and partly real; the result.of his uncomfortable state of mind.' Yet lie loved his sweet wife, and would not, of set purpose, have Wounded her for the world. ■ This unexpected repulse, this cruel reception of'her present. over which she had wrought pa tiently, in golden hope, for many days: this just as it touched her lips, was more than the fond young wife could bear. To hide the tears that came rushing to her eyes, she. turned away from her husband; and, to conceal the sobs she had hb power to repress, she went almost hur-; riedly from the room, and, going back to the chamber, from whence she had brought the present, she laid the articles away out of sight jn a closet. Then covenngTicr face with her hands, she’sat down, and strove with herself to be calm. But the shadow was too deep, the heartache too heavy.- In a 111 tie while her husband followed her, and discovering, somewhat to his surprise, that she was- weeping, said; in a slightly reproving voice, “Why, actually in tears! what a Silly littife puss you arc! Why didn’t you tell me you thought of making a dressing gown and a pair of slippers ? ' I .would have vetoed the matter at once. You couldn’t persuade me to wear such flaunting things. Come back to the parlor,’’ he said,' taking hold of her arm, and lifting her from the chair, “ and sing and play for me.’’ Almost by force he led her back to the par lor, and placed her on the music stool. He se lected a favorite piece, and laid it before her;— Bat tears were in her eyes, and she could not see a;note. Over The keys her fingers passed in skillful touches; but when she tried to take up the words, utterance failed, and sobs broke forth m their stead. - a “ How foolish!” said the husband, in a vexed tone. “I am surprised, at you.” . And he turned from the piano, and walked across the room. A little while the sad young wife remained where she was left thus alone, and in partial anger, -Then rising she went slowly from the roum, —her husband not seeking to restrain her,—and going back to her chamber, sat’down in darkness. The shadow which had been cast upon her Spirit was very deep; and though the hidden S|tn came out again right early, it was a long time .before his beams had power to scatter the clouds that floated in love's horizon. Character Governs the World. Character, secretly, silently, but more and more really governs the world. Every man is noted (or something which ho can do, and has acquired the habit of doing bettor than any one else. lie will be looked np to in that one thing; and others will watch his most casual motions and acts in regard to that thing, whatever they, are, and regulate themselves by him,„andset their chronometers by his time. Character, we have said, thus silently governs the world more, arid more. The thoughts of the wise men influ ence society just'in the same quiet, urisecri way that tlie observatory clock governs thedropping of the ball, and the. sailing olthe ships through, it all over the ocean.;':.A few words'by a stute..- man in C&igigssi'.by hi the Chatrihcrs, give tlio lone to the conversa tion'of |he diplomatists t they are spread through the newspapers, and hatioris set their clocks and regulate their sentiments by soipo of these great time-keepers. -Prince'Talleyrand used to be the most precise man ns to. time in Kis day, and all the politicians of Europe would set their watches by him’-whenever ho would openly show his chronometer. - The moral philosopher.better.illustrates the power of a great time-keeper thajjj/the politi cian, because his work is mere unshen, and the results are less apparently directly connected with their cause. A Prescott of nßrancrolt ut ters a great historical truth, or Channingagreut principle, of Dr. VVayland, at the head of a University, explodes Paley’s shallow laws of expediency, and asserts the original and su preme authority of conscience in.man. It al ters no muscle of any man’s countenance at the time, and the beardless youth who listens and recites it in his class sails on the great voy go of life m-t outwardly different from others who are not inwardly thus fortified. But a great moral truth dropped at the'fight time and in the right place, by an .unseen hand, has set that man’s chronometer for all coming life, arid .in the midst of the ocean and apprehended break ers and quicksands it indicates to him his true longitude. And he gives the true time to thou sands of others, and they sail by his lights in the darkness of night and .sail'safely and suc cessfully. This is the quiet power of true edu cation. i It is thnsfthat Christianity, too, is.more pow. orful at this moment for good than ever. The w.brdsiof the crucified One recorded the eternal truths of man’s nature.and relations with a pre cision and exactness as perfect and precise as the motions, of the heavenly bodies. Iri propor tion, as wo set our chronometers and keep the time by that standard, go where wo will, it teaches us our true and exact position and eaves from the wreck of a thousand hopes and expec tations. Not while Ho walked the earth had his words a thousandth part of the power over mankind which they possess at this moment, while from the, lofty heights above, by an un seen; agency, His arm is stretched out into the world, signalling to each man not only the true time now, bnt.his true position.no matter where he may go or what his occupation. Every true man , in proportion to the precise and rare truths which ho unfolds to the world, thus lives for. over, and influences mankind more and more in all coming ages. The Faith that Saves Us, In the highlands of Scotland there is a moun tain gorge, twenty foot in width, and two hun dred feet in depth. Its perpendicular wails are bare of vegetation, save In their crevices, in which grow numerous wild flowers of rare beau ty. Desirous mf obtaining specimens of these mountain beauties, some scientific tourists once offered a Highland hoy a handsome, gift if he' would’consent'to bo lowered down the cliff-by a repo, and would gather a little basketful for them. .-The boy looked wistfully at the money, for his parents were poor j but when he gazed at the yawning chasm he shuddered, shrank back, and declined. But filial love was strong within him,-and after another glance at the gift, and at (lie terrible flshnro, his heart grew strong, his oyos flashed, and he said : t ‘ I’ll go, if my father will hold the rope!” And then, with unshrinking nerves, cheek un bianched, and heart (Irmly strong, he spflered his father to put the rope about him, lower hih) into the wild abvss, and to suspend him there while lie filled his little basket with the coveted flowers. It was a daring deed, but his faith in the strength of his father’s arm, and in the love of his lather’s heart, gave him courage and power to perform it. The boy?s trust is a beau tiful illustration of the faith which saves the soul; for as ho puts himself into his fathers hands to bo bound with the rope.and lowered down the gorge to pluck ihooovotod flowers, so must yon put yourselves into Christ’s hands to 1)0 pardoned. , . . • 1 (jT7” A traveller says that if be were asked io describe the first sensations of a camel-ride, he would say :—“Take a music stool, and having wound it up as high risTt would go, pul it in a cart without springs; get on top. and next drive the cart transversely across a ploughed'field. and yon will then form some notion of the ter ror and uncertainty you would experience the first time you mounted a camel.” A Ghastly Procession The telegraph on Wednesday furnished a publication of tf portion of the letter of Henry J. Raymond; editor’of the New York Times, written on the battle field of Solferino, and de scriptive of it. The following additional ex tract. giving a graphic description of the pro cession of the wounded which poured into Gas liglione during the progress of the fight, will be read with interest. Mr. R. says: The first intimation we received of an en - gagement having taken place was from meeting three or- four carts, drawn by oxen, and filled with wounded—before we reached' Montechiaro on the road from Brescia. As wc had heard of no battle. We .naturally supposed that these wounded had been received in some skirmish. Soon after we.met a one horse carriage, in which was laid at foil length an officer of rank, whose face wore so ghastly a look as to make it evi dent he was dying. On reaching Montechiaro,. and stopping for a moment to rest our horses, we were told that a great batt ! c was then going on in the plain before .Castigiione; arid going at once to the summit of some old fortifications which once defended the- town’, we could see with out- glasses the smoke of the engagement. We lost no lime in pushing forward, although we were to d that we could hot reach Castigli one. because the roads were completely occu pied by artillery held in reserve. We went on, however, continuing to tncet carriages and carts laden with wounded, and passing the French camps of the night ■ before, came to a point, at about half a mile from the town, where a park of arid cry wagons was defiling fromiheir camp into the road. Watching our chance we drove in between two of the wagons, and so entered town under cover of the enor mous cloud of dust which they raised The mam street \yaa densely! crowded with cans, carriages, horses, donkeys, oxen, sol diers, suttlers, and persona and animals of eve ry description. We pushed our way, without'hindcrance. di rectly past the house marked as the Quartier Generals, or headquarters of the Emperor, and were thus within the camp. - We had gone but a short distance when we came to where the great procession of the wounded was turning down a cross street to a church which had been taken for a hospital. It was certainly the most dreadful sight I ever saw. Every conceivable kind of wound which can be inflicted upon men -was here exhibited. All who were able to da so were,obliged to walk—the wagons and animals at command being ail required for those who cquld not otherwise be moved. Some walked along, their faces completely covered with blood from sabre.cuts upon their heads. Many had their arms shattered—hundreds had their hands tied up, and some carried most ghastly wounds upon their faces. Some; had-lied up their wounds, and others had stripped away the clo thing which chafed and .made them worse. I saw one man walking with a firm and resolute air, naked to his waist, dad having a bullet- Wound upon his side, an . ugly gash along his cheek, and a deep bayonet thrust, received from behind; in his; shoulder! -MoatVof 'thrise.yyho yvercwalkingworo a-serious- look—-converaing but )Ut|e ; with ohe auother; thdugfi they walked' two undtwo—and few of them carried upon their faces any. considerable expression of pain. ■Those who were more severely injured; rode upon donkeys.or in carts, and a few were car ried upon mattresses on men’s shoulders. But these 1 were mostly officers, and nearly all I saw carried in that way were so badly wounded .that their recovery is scarcely possible. Ope had both his legs crushtd by a cannon, ball. Another had received a ball in the thigh, and was evidently'suffering the most intense ago ny. Many of those whose wounds were in the legs were seated in chairs swung across a don key—One being on each side.- , Several who were thus carried, and were supported by sol diers walking by their side; were apparently, unconscious, and seemed to be dying. Then would come carts. large and small, carrying three, five, arid some of them ten and fifteen each. A steady stream of these ghastly vic tims of the battle of the day poured through the town. I stood in tbfy crowd by the side of them as the sad profession passed along, and watched it at this point for over an hour. It was not interrupted fora moment, except now and then by a crowd of prisoners, and it con tinued thus from about ten in the morning, when it began to flow, until I left the street, long after dark. ■ . ' Every church, every large hall, every private house in the town, has been taken for the ser vice of the wounded. Those whose injuries are' slight, after having them dressed, pass at once into the ranks and mingle with their comrades. I looked at the.church as I passed by. Ail the seats, railings, &c., had been removed ; mat tresses of hay had been spread upon the floor, and were completely filled with wounded men. in every stage of. suffering and of peril, lying side by side. .The surgeons were dressingtheir wounds; Sisters of Charity and other tyomen were giving thqm' wine arid otherwise minister ing to their comfort;. but morning, lam sure, will dawn upon a large proportion of them re lieved forever frotn their-pain. If anything can. be more horrible than a soldier’s life, it certainly is a soldier's death. What am I going to no ?—One afternoon a boy saw ri person drop his purse. Ho picked it up and put it in his pocket, and was walking off with it. “ What am I going to do?” came into his mind; and the answer followed : —“I am go ing away with a purse of money that does not belong to mo. This is not honest; I shall be a thief if Ido so. God has said “ Thou shall not steal.” Tri another moment ho ran after the person and gave up the purse. “ What am I going to do f” asked'a boy who took his Ashing tackle instead of his books and was stealing out of tho'back door of his father’s bouse. “I am going to play:truant, deceive my parents, neglect my school, and go in the company of bad boys.” The case looked a bad one, he turned about, put away his fishing tackle, found bis satchel arid run off to school. These boys were saved from much evil by stopping to think. Solomon says “ Ponder the path of thy feet.” 03-The Clarion Democrat raises the name of John C. Breckinridge as its first choice for President in 1860. ’ That paper claims the hon or of having been the first in the Union to name Mr. Buchanan for the Presidency in 1866, and. declares that were.he a candidate for re-nomi nation his name should again ho at the bead of its columns. The Democrat has also a choice for Vice President, but conoiudos not to make it public at this time. Character op a Coquette..- The coguelte who courts every man, and the modest woman whom every man courts, are certainly two dis tinct creatures. The one may please us but the other exacts our homage, The one attracts our fancy, like.a painted butterfly; the other excites our cupidity, like a precious gem. The one wo. long to waste time with : the other wo desire to possess. If every woman who plays the coquette’s part con'd only truthfully ascer tain. and clearly analyze, the sentiments she inspires in the bosom of those she labors so di ligently to oaplivate we are afraid that she would look on mankind with disgust, and her own sex with detestation. If any such read this paragraph let them remember it.- . , ‘ - 9 r v-;-,-.'.- , ’ . • “ OUR COUNTRY —MAY ,IT ALWAYS, .BH; BIGHT—-BUT RIGHT OB WRONG, OUR COUNTRY.” Dancing Ithts Andjelf-Playing .Violins. The New York Evening Post gives an account of a curious feat ofjiiroroinanoy, by which hats have for a long time tote tttade to daniie upon a floor in a drinking s'tfktign'of that city.. Al most every onefwha hd|'it‘Abne the rounds” of the metropolis during The past months has vis ited lhe oyster saloon of Mr. Dexter, in B'ecck er street for the purpose of, seeing the dancing hats, placed upon the counter or upon the floor would suddenly ’ begin to-'jump about in the most astonishing manner. Latterly another wonder has been added'to ;,the exhibition: two violins, being placcd'upwfthe floor, would give forth tnusitrttnihoiuThe nasistancedf any'hu man agency. Says tho Post: ■ •‘‘Thejolly Mr. Dexter prospered. He invited \he-public to witness tlieTcinnrkable phenome na ol his place, and,.the -public accepted his generous invitation.; To be sure, Mr. Dexter charged nothing for his exhibition, but no one womd be so ungracious.as to look upon it with out leaving in Mr. . Dexter’s bands the money for an oyster stew ora glass of liquor, and so Mr. Dexter’s.coflers grew heavy with the accu mulated contributions of the curious.” Many prominent citizens visited The place, examined, Mr. Dexter, the room, floor, the hats, the violins, the adjoining, apartments, and were convinced that the.phenomena were produced by spirits. One oft these believers. Dr. Ha'look, published a letter tippn , ; fbe subject, in which he declared his conviction that the whole was a genuine spiritual manifestation. But recently, after this mystification. Mr. Dexter was ready to undeceive the deceived and to explode the humbug. . He accordingly invited a select num ber of persons to his room, and laid bare bis ma chinery. This cannot be dcsoribed intelligibly from the account of the Post, but it will be sufficient to say, that.a most cunning and deli cate arrangement of wires which communicated with-sawed boards in the floor and counter and frhich tyetc worked by 1 a man .who led a sub terranean life in a hole in the ground, produced the salutatory motion of the hats. The mys tery of the violins is thus solved, the instruments which the*audience Saw p aoed upon the floor, did not sound at all. The music really came from another violin, just beneath the floor, up on which the concealed operator strummed with his fingers.’ This example will demonstrate the powerful effect of imagination, and will serve to explain tot the unwilling believers in spiritism many of the '‘manifestations" by which their senses have been hoodwinked. .The machinery here alluded to was arranged under the direc tion of a professional spirits, and if this fact does net open: the eyes -of-a few battailions in the army of tbe deluded, it will be becausethey ! were born blind, and in physical devcldpemcnt are behind sundry lower numbers of the animal kingdom.' ... Tub PrnAMiD3. —I wept'to see and explore the Pyramids. f . Familiar to one from thadays of early child hood are the fortes of thelEgyptain Pvramfdsi and now. as. I approacbedilhem from ihebanks of thc_Nilci ;I had hp printTnp pictnie ; bbr6re me. 'and 'yei lhq b'.d ebaiyis wi;rctherc;.thei|j was ho change ; they were jnst as Idiad always known theim I’straightened, myself in my stirrups. Slid strived. to„piersuadg.. my hoder standing .that this: mk- real Egypt! an&that those angles which! stood'ftp between inn bind I the West were of harder stuff, and more ancient I than' the paper, pyramids of the green portfolio. Yet it was not tilt I came to the base of the great pyramid, that leahty began to wefgh upon my mind. Strange to say, the bigness of the distinct blocks of stone was the first sign by which I attained to feel the immensity of the whole pile. When I came and troil and touch ed with my hands, and .climbed, in order that by climbing I might come to the top of one sin gle stone, then, and almost suddenly, a cold sense nn.d understanding of the Pyramid’s enor mity came down overcasting my brain. . I of course ascended to the summit of the great pyramid, and also explored its chambers but these I need not describe. The first time. s that I went to the Pyramids of Ghizeh. there were a number of Arabs hanging abput in its neighborhood, and wanting to receive presents on various pretexts .-.theirSheik was with them. There was also present an ill looking fellow in soldiers uniform. This roan on my departure claimed a reward; on the ground that he had maintained order and decorum amongst the Arabs ; his etaim was. not considered valid by my dragoman, and;was rejected accordingly: my donkey boys afterwards said they had over heard this .fellow propose to the Sheik to put me to death whilst 1 was in the intcriorof the great Pyramid, and to share with him the booty ; fancy a struggle for life in one of those burial chambers, with acres and acres of Solid'masoh ry between oneself and the daylight! 1 1 felt exceedingly glad that I had not made the rascal a present 1 visited the very ancient Pyramids of Abou cir and Sakkara; there are many of these, and of various shapes and sizes, and it struck me that taken together they ipight be considered as showing the progress and perfection (such as it is) of pyramidical Architecture. One of ' the Pyramids at Sakkara is almost a rival for the full grown monster of Ghizeh: others are scarce ly more than vast heaps of brick and stone: these last suggested tome theidea-that after all the Pyramid is nothing more nor less than a variety of the sepulchral mound so, common ■ in most countries (including I believe Htndostan, from whehce.the Egyptians are supposed to have come,). Men accustomed to raise these struct ures,for their-dead Kings, or conquerors, would carry the usage with them in their migrations, but arriving in Egypt, and seeing the impossi bility of finding earth sufficiently tenacious for a mound, they would approximate as nearly' as might be to their ancient custom by raising up a round, heap of these stones, in short conical pyramids ; of these there are several at Sakka ra, and the materials of some are thrown togeth er without anv order or regularity. The tran sition from this simple form to that of the square angular pyramid was easy and naturol. and it seemed, to me that the gradations thro* which the style passed from infancy up, to its mature enormity', could plainly be traced at | Sakkara Live while you Live. —Thousands of men breathe, move, and live, pass off the stage of life, and ore heard of no more. Why ? f lhey do not partake of good in the world, none were blessed by them» none could point to them as the means of their redemption ; not a line they wrote, not a word they spake, cou d, be recalled ; and so they perished; their light went out in darkness, and they were not re* merabered more thgn insects of yesterday.- Will you thus live and die. 0, man immortal? Live for something. Do good, and leave behind you a monument of virtue, — Clwlitiers, IC7" An Irish vagrant called for relief at St. Peter’s Hospital. Bristol, and complained of being ill, when the doctor gave him an order for some medicine. When ho presented the order, and heard what it provided, Pat said he did not want it. The nurse' declared that he did, for the doctor said so. “Arrah, whist,” was the reply; I know bet ter than the doctor! ’Tisn’t physio I want at all, but sausages and lay !" ■ Duhiiitcfr. T’- > Atnbng the distinguished men who-fell vic tims during the war of the Revolution, was Col, . Isaac Hayne, of South Carolina; a man who by his amiability of character atwl high sentiments of honor and uprightness, half secured the good will and affection of all who knew .him. Ho had a wife and six small children, the oldest a boy thirteen years of age. His wife, to whom he was tenderly attached, fell a victim to dis ease; an event hastened not improbably by the inconvcniencies and sufferings incident to a Slate of war, in which the whole family largely par ticipated. Col. Hayne himself was taken pri soncr-by the-Briiish forcesrand in a-shorl-time was executed on the gallows, under circumstan ces calculated to excite the deepest commisera tion. A great number of persons, both English and. Americana, interceded for his life. The ladies of Charleston signed a petition in his be half; his motherless children were presented on their bended knees as humble suitors for their beloved father; but all in vain. During the imprisonment of the father, the eldest son was permitted tmstay with him in prison. Behold ing his only surviving parent, for whom he felt the deepest affection, loaded with irons and condemned to die, he was overwhelmed with consternation and sorrow. The wretched falh- er endeavored to console him," by reminding him that the unavailing grief of the son tended only to increase his own misery ; that we came into this world merely lo die: and he could even ie joice that his troubles were so near an end.— “ To morrow,” said he, “ I set out for imiiior talily. You will accompany me to the place of execution ; and When I am dead, take my body and bury it by the side of your mother." The youth here fell on his father’s neck, crying, “Oh, my .father! my father! I will die for you! I will die with you !” Col. Hayne, as he was loaded with irons, was unable to return the embrace of his son, and merely said lo him in reply—“ Live, thy son j live to honor God, •by a good life: live to serve your country ; and live to lake care of your brother and little sis ters.” The next morning Col. Hayne was con ducted lo the place of execution- Ilia son. ac companied him.. Soon as they came in sight of the gallows, the father strengthened himself and said, “ Now, my son. show yourself a man ! That tree is the boundary of my life, and all my life’s sorrows. Beyond that, the wicked cease from troubling and the weary arc at rest. Don’t lay too much at heart pur separation ; it will be but short. To-day I die: and you, my son, though, but young, must shortly follow me." "Yes, my father,” replied the broken hearted youth, I “shall.shortly follow you.for. .indeed, I feel that I cannot live long.” And his melancholy anticipation was fulfilled in n man ner more dreadful than is implied in the mere extinction of life. On seeing his father in the hands of the executioner, and then struggling in the halter, he stood like one transfixed and motionless With horror. Till then he had wept incessantly ;. blit soon as he saw that sight, the fountains of his tears were stanched, and he never wept tnore. He died insane ; and. in his last moments often called upon his father, in terms that bfoughl tears from the hardest hearts-- ■•- ', ' ; Weadvise oil young people to acquire in ear ly life the habit of using good language, both in speaking'and writing, and to abandon as early ns possible any use of slang words and phrases. The longer they live, the more diffi cult the acquisition of good language will ; and if the golden age of youth, the proper sea son for the acquisition of language be passed fa its abuse, the unfortunate victim of neglected education is very probably doomed to talk slang for life. Money is not needed to procure edu cation. Everyman has it in his power. He has merejy to use the language which he reads instead of the slang which he hears; to form his taste from the best speakers and poets of the country ; Ip treasure up choice' plftases in his memory and habituate himself to their use, avoiding at the same, time that pedantic preci sion and bombast which show rather the weak ness of a vain ambjtion than the polish of an educated mind. Oscar I, King of Sweden.'died at Stockholm, bn the Bth of July, aged'6o. His eldest son. who has been Regent for the last two years, succeeds him, with the title of Charles XV.— Oscar was son of Marshal Bernadette, and re ceived his Celtic name from Napoleon, who was a great admirer of the Poems of Ossian. Elec ted Crown-Prince of Sweden while Charles Xllf was still reigning, Bernadotto applied himself to winning, the affections of his future subjects, by abjuring the Catholic faith, by becoming a Protestant, and by joining the great Powers of Europe against Napoleon. The result was, that of all the mbnarchs indebted lo Napoleon for crowns, Bernadotte alone maintained his po sition. He succeeded to the throne in 1818. on the death of King Charles XIII, and governed for twenty-six years. Oscar, his only son, mounted the throne in 1844, with the reputa tion of being one of the best educated princes in Europe. He had previously been his father’s locum tenens during the preceding six years.— His wife was Josephine Beauharnais, grand daughter of the Empress Josephine. In 1852. he began lo exhibit mental aberration, and his eldest son has governed in his place since 1857 . Press. To Toons Men.—Don’t rely upon friends. Don’t rely upon the name of your ancestors. Thousands have spent the prime of life in the vain hope of tho-e whom they called friends ; and thousands have starved because they had a rich father. Rely upon the good name which is made by your own exertions: and know that better than the best friend you can have is un questionable determination, united with decision of character. ■ [C7* Many people like newspapers, but few preserve them : yet the most interesting reading imagination is a file of old newspapers. It brings up the very age, with all its bustle and every day affairs, and marks Us genius and its spirit more than the most labored description of the historian. Who can take tip a paper half a century back, without the thought that almost every name there printed is now cut upon a tombstone at the head of an epitaph? \y An Irish servant having entered the drawing ropm. with (he piistreso’s favorite poo dle wringing wet, “ How is .tbiq, Bridget: how came Fido to get so very wei inquired the Cooking fohPjgs.—Sam'l H. Qlay of Bom- lad. An’ faith, mem, an’ jt wasgplc Tom bon has been experimenting in feeding several “X ««“ had the' tinybasto . r, , . , ~ ~ of a powl, and was Washing the lots of hogs, changing them from raw to cooked, him." v and from ground to unground food, with the _ , „ . . . A Gorman, arroslod-aa.a apy whllo tfio following results. allies wore at Brescia, pretended lo achnocilol One bushel of dry corn made five pounds and .officers who were examining liinij'.ttfjio.ft''mar ten ounces of live pork ; one bushel of boiled chant of Milan, and to have lost his papers, corn made fourteen pounds and seven ounces of “Hah,” said a French colonel, suddenly,‘come pork ; due bushel of ground corn, boiled, made donor; I cant hear you.’ The ucciisnd o ‘'Jo in one instance 16 pounds seven ounces, in ano-; “:ffOw,” said the Colonel, ‘‘ln _ 0 *._^ rR J (o ther nearly eighteen pounds of pork. Estima- 1 j> tu PP e< * finger on (he stripe of ting corn at ninety cents a bushel, and pork at f , 0 t,,.,, ta j 00n . Ton are an excellently drilled e’ght cents a pound, wo have as the result of ' Llffier, my Wend.” The man admitted it. 7JS3S&S& f r|j Ct^Gon. 3 buried. Exccntion of Colonel Hayne, Correct Speaking, Tlie lple King of Sweden, A correspondent from Denver City, Pike’s Peak, gives an account of the Denver House which gives a pretty good idea of what border life is like in the gold-diggins 500 miles in the woods:, {lore we*are at the Denver House—a long, one siory edifice. 130. feel by. 36, the walls of log and the roof of common shecting..giving it the appearance of a circus lent. We enter the great saloon, occupying the whole width of the building. The smooth dirt floor Is well sprin kled to keep down dust dividing the saloon fiotri the other apartments, only ex tends up ,to the eaves, leaving ample room to hear whatever is going on in other portiohs of the house. At our left 5s the bar, where cigars and '* stimulating . libulants,” are vended at twenty-tive cents each; before us a few Eastern papers, a month old, on file, are eagerly de vonred by the newly arrived immigrants, who have come through with oxen. The saloon is filled with representatives from almost, every nation—mostly swarty men with long maned beards—in rough costume of woollen or buck skin, arid cjjch wiln revolver and knife at his belt.. At half a dozen tables around the room; the gamblers, each surrounded by an eager crowd, are busy at their nefarious art. Here is one of them, a little New Yorker, in woolen shirt and jockey cap, behind his table. O’ The Washington correspondent of the North American comments as follows upon the laborious habits of the President:' ‘• The President is expected to return in the beginning of this week, and the suspended ani mation of government will be restored to its' accustomed active life. The relaxation has been of Service, though for the sake of health only he did not need it, being of that robust order which no care seems to affect in the least. In fact, he gives himself no care, but takes the world like a philosopher! sitting as calmly down as Diogenes did in his tub, and asking the mod ern Alexanders very quietly to stand out of his sunshine, knowing that he has only a modicum Of that article to spare. Few men could have stood the wear and tear so wSII during the. last two years,' and but for bis excellent habit, which some of us envy, of sleeping, a givei/numbcr of hours, whether the Union was safe or not at nightfall, he must: have fallen a victim to his high office, as others have done in my day. lie works harder and more constantly than any drudge in the public service, and pursues! de tails even to their trifling conclusions! It might be asserted with some degree!)! confidence, that all the Presidents in twenty years have not read as many papers, or heard as many cases as he has done, and, what is more, appears to have gained strength by it. ”. • A Simple Mode of Destroying Roil cues. —As these pests are quite numerous at this season of the year, housekeepers who are an noyed by them will doubtless be induced to try the following plan for getting rid of them. . It is very Cheap aifd staid (o be effective: “The vermin are easily destroyed, simply by cutting up green cucumbers at night and pla cing them about where roaches commit 'depre dations. ll'hat is cut front the Cucumbers in preparing them for the tab’s answers the pur pose as well, and three applicationswill destroy all. the roaches in* the house. Remove the peel-, ings in the morning and at night. If properly applied, and tlieC'fcmcdy fails, the writer of this article will pay any one’s sub soription fpr this paper one year.’’ CnoiCE op Words.—When you doubt be tween two words, choose the plainest, the com monest, the most idiomatic. Eschew the fine words as you. would rouge.; love simp'eoncs ns you won d naive- roses on your chcclts. Act as you might be disposed to do on your estate: employ such words as have the largest families, keeping clear of foundlings and of those of which nobody can tell whence they come. A Curious Case.—'The founder of the Smith sonian Institution .was dying of ah unknown complaint: five doctors had been unable todis cover what fiis disease was. At length they told the patient he must die. Calling them all around him, he said:— * '.My friends, after I die, make a post mortem examination, and find out what ails me; for really I have heard such long and learned discussions on the subject, that I am dying to know what the disease is. myself.” Bright and Gloomv Hours.—Ah I this beautiful world. Indeed, I know not what to think of it. . Sometimes it is all g-adness and sunshine, and heaven itself is not far off.- And then it changes suddenly and is dark and sor rowful, mid (he clouds shut out the sky. In the lives of (he saddest of us there are bright days like this when We feel as if we could lake the great world in our arms. Then come the gloomy hours, when the fire will neither burn in our hearts nor.on our hearth, and all with out and within is dismal, cold and dark,. Be lieve me, every heart has its secret sorrows which (he world knows nut, and oftentimes we call a man cold when be is only sad. The Crops.—The crops of this Stale never looked better or promised a greater yield. New potatoes are coming into market, while corn rushes along with locomotive speed. All kinds of garden vegetables have reached maturity in a shorter space of time than ever known before. — The past week of dry weather, with a few re freshing showers on Wednesday, have given an impetus to vegetation, which really frightens some of the oldest inhabitants. Should this fa vorable state of affairs comihue. Minnesota will raise a larger and belicr crop than ever before. St Paul Times of the 15th inst. (£7“ Tlio love of ornament creeps slowly but surely uvo theft-male heart. A girl who twines the lily in her tresses, mid looks at herself in the clear stream, will soon wish that the lily was fadeless and the stream a mirror. We say let the young girl seek to adorn her beauty, if she be taught also to adorn her mind and heart, that she may have wisdom to direct her love of ornament in due moderation. AT 52.00 PEE ANNUM. NO. 9. A model Hotel. 'A Ifoble Example. Tio practise is not uncommon for bora of Congress to return to Washington to en gage in tho business of procuring the passage of claim bills amt other private matters, for a pea cuniary consideration. Tho experience ac qmred and, acquaintances formed during thoif term as Representative, give them acertain ad vantage not possessed by others. Several ycara ago, two loading cx-members-Asmtwf, of Mas sachusetts, and Vision, 01 Ohio-addressed a circular to tho various railroad companies, pro posing,to Undertake tho job of having the dW on railroad iron removed, for a certain per cent age, which was regularly assessed on tho differ, ont companies. Their design was to sell ont' their influence and mate profit Out of their po sition. Tho same practice has been pursued to so great an extent, that the rofusai of a late Vir ginia member of Congress to engage in the bu siness, is noticed by fbo Stales as a .refreshing exhibition of virlue. Tho editor of, that'paper has been permitted to look at a private letter from a member of (he last House, in reply to parties who offered him an oggregate of ten thousand dollars, to engage in the prosecution of some claims before the next Congress. Al ter examining one of those claims, for which he was offered £ fi vo thousand dollar foe, lie roadies the conclusion that it is not only a debt justly duo by the government, biWotreof so sacred it character that it ought to be promptly and gracefully paid. The same claim baa been ap proved by committees of both Houses, and bj tlio officers of the Treasury. Tot, although the claim is just, the member* in question cannot consent to appear at Washington as its adVoCato. The delicate sense of propriety evinced in tho following extract from his reply, is a commcn. dablo novelty in these days of brazen corrup tion : - •’ “ As to (ho fee of five thousand dollars, which you offer mo to aid you. in the passage of this just bill, the money certainly would be veryac-* cepiablo to one like myself, whoso available re sources have been so materially impaired by a long service in’Congress, and it the case was before the Supreme Court or even tho Court of Claims, I should be very prompt to accept it; but without moaning to give, an)' offence, 1-must • say that I have a most insuperable objection to receiving compensation for such a service as you propose to me. This, you may Say,- is. a mere prejudice; yet it is'one ot those prejudices that X Ibihlt I shall never overcome.- It is truq I am no longer a member of Congress, or in any way cannected witli the federal government, and consequently at liberty to pursue any avo cation to which my taste may incline! me. .. Still, having tor the, last eight years been a member of the House of Representatives, I have con tracted such an aversion to an ex-member! of Congress, for a moneyed consideration, exerci sing bis influence to procure the passage of a private bill, no matter how just that bill maybe, that I could never feel erect, in my own self esteem, id accepted any compensation lor such service.”- , ~ O? We suppose that a man who never speaks may be said always to keep his word; O' Flowers fling their wealth upon the va cant air. and rich men often fling theirs upon the vacant heir. , O’ A manufacturing wire-worker, in an ad-; vertisement; invites the public to come and see 'bis invisible wire fences. '■! -O" What is the difference betwiecn a man who keeps dogs, and one who has nine Walking sticks ? One owns ca nines and the other nine cane's. . ' . ' .- O’ Tho anagram for Aqs.iria iavaslari, La tin for " to lay waste”—q business in which that country has been engaged for centuries, !Gs* A young Sawbones having coated a girt for a year, and got the mitten, turned round and sued her.father for “ visits” he paid her. O’ “ That’s the rod on which we'split, ’* said Charley to bis wife when she asked him tor ■ rook the cradle. I O’ It may seem a paradox, but it is never theless truth, that bit a man upon whatever part of the body you will, tho blow is sure to go against his stomach. 17" Meerschaum pipes, it is said, arc made out of the foam of the sea. The manufacture of them, therefore, must be a surge-ical opera tion. O’ There is a man in Exeter whose memory is so short that it only reaches to.his knees.— Per consequence, he has not paid for his last pair of boots. I , O’Why cannot a deaf man be legally con victed 1 Because it is not lawlul to condemn a. man without n hearing. O’lt may be said in illustration of the sweetness and the sting of the English language that its very alphabet begins with A B. O’ The vain man idolizes his own person, and here he is wrong ; bui he cannot bear bis own company, and here he is right. O’ A writer on ornithology inquires what kind of eagles fly highest ? We don’t know p but unquestionably golden eagles generally, By fastest. O’ A young lady sends us some verses, and says she knows the metre is correct, as she has counted lbe feet in every line. But a genuine poetess need never count her feet. O’ JUiere is a man in Algiers who tells such good stories that his friends say it is dangerous to walk with him in the forests, for all the bye-'- nas come round him to laugh. , O’ “ You’ll kill yourself, smoking so mucb- r husbalid,’.’ “ Indeed, wife. I must use the weed." ■ “ Oh, very well, I shall have occasion for weeds myself pretty soon.” |O’ A Frenchman, wishing to speak of tho ■ cream of the English poeis, forgot the word, and said *• de butter of poets.” A wag said that his English wascertainlynot “thecheese.”' O” When Dr. Lucas, a very unpopular man, ventured on a speech in the Irish. Parliament,, and failed altogether, Grattan said, “ He rose withnut a fri,nd, and sat down without an cne- ruy." O'Queen Victoria has in a single ring ai gallery of family portraits, each a mere photo graphic speck : but, under the magnifying glass, displaying the finish and all the delicacy of a latge portrait. !C7” Polly being bantered one day by some of her leinalo friends in regard to her lover, who had but one leg, she replied to them smartly, •• Pooh! I wouldn’t have or man with two iegs> they’re too common?” O-A country newspaper thus describes the effects of the recent thunderstorm: “It shat tered mountains, tore up-on Its by tile roots, dismantled churches, laid homesteads waste, and over turned a haystack." “ wise man of Gotham ’’ made his ser vant sleep in a chamber adjoining bis own.'— He cried out to him on one occasion. “George adi I asleep “ Yes, sir," replied llio consci*. entious George— 14 Ah, good I" ' , (£7* A runaway thief having applied 1 to a blacksmith for work, the latter showed him some handcufls, and asked if he understood such kind of work. “ Why, yes, sir," said the olh er, “I guess I’ve bad ft' Jiond id era afore. (£7* A doctor ordered ono of his patients to drink flower of sulpberand water: tho patient expressed (ns disgust by significant grimaces. •• I is only the first glass that is hard to drink, 'said the doctor. “Then," rejoined the inva lid. “I will begin with the second l ." • fly Smith, tho other day, while looking at tho skeleton donkey, and admiring an® wondering atdne structure Of that despisedah-> imal.madeXvcry maladroit quotation. "Ah,’' said 1 he, Awe are fearfully and wonderfully made." 1 •
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers