tAnmiran “OUR COUNTRY- MAY IX ALWAYS! BE RIGHT OR WRONG, OUR COUNTRY," ’• y old fashioned homestead, (tU gables sharp and brown! - tho flowers of summer perish, iho cold and bitter rain, little birds with weary wings 70 gone across tho main; curls tho blue smoke upward, . /ard tho bluer sky. ,cold among tho naked hills, ifrfcjrhito tho snow-drifts lie— fiiis of love and glory forget tho cloud and storm, idold-fasbioncd homestead, fth hearth-stone large and warm 1 L. 47, JOAN VOLUNTEER, 3D EVERT THURSDAY MORNIXG BY 10K B. BRATTON. TERMS, jpr.—Ono Dollar and Fifty Cents, paid Two' Dollars if paid within tho yoarj illars and Fifty Cents, if not paid within ?hoso terms will bo rigidly adhered to in. po» No subscription discontinued uotu lai iiro paid unless at tho option of tuo ittENTS—Accompanied by the case, and ; e one square, will bo inserted tbroo of Dollar, and twenty-five cents for each asOrlion. Those of a greater length in /*a— Such os Iland-bills, Posting-bills, thinks, Labels, Ac. Ac., executed with I'St tho shortest notice. | totimlv BOOK ME TO SLEEP, MOTHEB. pd, turn backward, oh, time in your flight, 5 ,a child'again, just for to-night! iorao back from the ccholcss, shore, igain to your hoart as of yore— my forehead the furrows of oaro, ie few silver threads out of my hair— slumbers your living watch keep— , . i to sloop, mother—rock me ib sleep 1 •d, flow backward, oh, tide of years I treary of toils and of tears— . mat recompense—tears all in vain—■ im and give bock my childhood ugain! rown weary of dust.and decay, flinging my soul wealth away— 'sorting forothojS to reap; ’to sleep, mother—rook mo to sleep* -hollow, the. base, the untrue, oh, my heart calls for you! • manner tho.grasa has grown green, and faded—our faces between— , strong yearning and passionate pain, /6-night for your presence again j )‘m the silence so long and so. deep en sleep, mother—rock mo to,sleep! •heart in days that arc flown, iko mother love over has worship abides ami endures, ifheelfisb, and patient, UU° yours. Vmothor con,charm away pain, o sick soul and tho world-weary brain j calm o’er heavy lids creep— mother—-rock me to sleep! ‘|mur brown hair, just lighted with gold, iur shoulders again os of old— 'dyer my forehead to-night, '’' faint eyes away.from the light— sunny-edged shadows once more'., hrong the sweet visions of yore, ftly, its bright billows sweep— leep, mother —rpek me to sleep J 'lothor, the years bavo'bccri long, jhed to your lullaby song— unto my soul it shall seem rears have been but a dream; rms in a loving embrace, at lashes just sweeping my face, jrouitor to wake or to to sleep, mother, rook mo to sleep I iJProm the Public Ledger. BLESSINGS OF THE 11N10JI. iksgiving Discourse, thew’t ' Lutheran ChuveJt, JV r ei o ia t Thursday November B. W. nUTTBIt. ( good and how pleasant it is iiWn : dwoll together fn unity;.” Psalms ;v' : f ■ r "\ ,* \krfgs«ltiff fesUvitics are coeval with man ' Teligious history. They wore in- V'withthe creation jubilee, when "the together, and all the sons of i«sSvi&)r joy.” Along tho processional Miriam's song and saCrcd dance.on the Red Sea; and Deborah and Ba- joy at the river Kiflbdn; and the oyer; the,return of the long • of .iGigd, under King David, to tho Royal 'ihojPoQsts of Passover, Pentecost and V'aifloom up from tho historic pdgo, in autbentioations of national gratitude for . ihdrcies and deliverances. , Inquiries as to the propriety of special wo may ask: Is thorp a selrigqt all who is tho fountain of our life tfjteWer of our blessings? This conceded, bnn be more logioal an'd real, than relations impose upon us the obligation ■ttb God suitable returns of gratitude and everything above, benCath and loniehos us of n. debt of gratitude, all recognize, but which nor saint on gel in glory, oau repay, Hanging V arm, and feeding it at bis fostivo her rich in his smiles or languishes tke.Too exalted to need our praise, wolful and hind to reject it when it dt generous and loyal hearts. A fun itake is it too, to suppose that the ob ink God extends not boyond the sc r6f the'sequestered soul. No! Joint dte our most distinguished benefits \d jointly does, it become as to ao*- im. Associated thanksgiving is, lefeasible right, as it ofieots the hap- py confluence of inuumoraWo rills and at ' ca “f piaiso in ouo vast ocean of sp.ntual nmndy-a mlffhty plurality In unity. Wo liavo dqno well, therefore, on this mmpioi6.ro room, to have entered tSese sacred courts with thauk.gwmgonourips And if in those somoos wo engage with the heart s concentrated fervor, wo may rest assured, by the immutability of the Divine promise, there will rest upon our assembly the surcharged cloud of the Di- V *o°ur text is a brief encomium by the Psalmist on unity and brotherly love, which, in these days of, strife and discord in Church and State, wo regard , most needful.. Some conjecture tywas penned on the occasion of tho union of the tribes when they,: with one, voice, proclaimed David King. Whenever ; penned, it is of general application to all societies, less and large!*, civil and sacred. So far from bit ing and devouring one another, they should delight I each other with mutual endearments and promote I each other's happiness with reciprocal services.- This the Psalmist pronounces “good”—good in it self, good to those that practice it, good for. others, and good in tho sight of God. lie also pronounces it “ pleasant,” having about it the odor of a rare de light. And, further on, ho illustrates both its good ness and pleasantness by comparing it to tho fra grant coronation oil, poured on tho head of Aaron, so plentifully that it ran down his face, oven to tho binding of his garment, to tho great delight of all tho bystanders. And, still further ou, ho compares such “dwelling together in unity” to tho dew of Hormon and tho dow that descended upon the mountains of Zion, whore tho Lord commanded his blessing, oven life for evermore.- Our causes both for national . thanksgiving to God, and for, living together, as. citizens ol ouo common country, in love and peace, - arc so numer ous as to defy tho descriptive energies of language;; They are like a circle that has no end and no be ginning. They are like tho vault of Heaven, that cannot ho scaled. They ufo like certain deep places in the ooodn, which no lino can fathom. Our insti tutions are all friendly, to Christian civilization, sci ence, learning, arts, and every, kindred element of national progress and power. Our laws secure an open avenue for merit to tho high places of power and trust. State Religion wo have none, and yet our laws, bur oathk,’and tho entire-machinery of Civil Government are conformed to the principles of Christianity. The unrestricted use of tho Sacred Scriptures, the Christian Sabbath, the. voluntary church, an entail of propertynot tending to centra lization but to diffusion, a diversified climate, a vast domain, and unsurpassed agricultural, manufactu ring, and commercial capabilities—these have made this country, by tho blessing of God, thd model and ultimate centre of attraction for all nations of tho globe. Besides, between, us aud the powers of tho Old World there rolls, tho broad Atlantic, so that, unless wo war among ourselves, wo may neverhoar again the confused noise of contending warriors, never look again upon garments rolled in blood.—. It is not exaggerated praise to state, that another, such a nation as our own thoro exists not under tho canopy of tho heavens. - ' And this grand aggregate, of individual and col lective prosperity, under God, we can all.trace to the genial and bonificonfc influence of our National Union. It was the union of,the clear heads and pa . -triotio hearts, tho stern virtue and unbending cou rage of the men of the revolution, that onahled thom to endure that baptism of fire, and that mar-, tyrdom of blood. They wore sacramonted together -v-their hands joined, their hearts knit, like those of Sapl and Jonathan, only to,bo dissolved in death. From, this union of bravo mou.in the field, and sago men in council, sprang the triumphs of the revolur tiouury ora. This, union gave-birth to our match- 1 leas constitution, whoso benefits are so wrought and tempered into tho American life, (hat oyory inter-, nitl attempt to destroy or impair it, is oven ivorae than- tu- buTo it fdrtrigu'fuir ’menacing Ourpodeo and safety.. To this, union do wo Owe the imperishable legacy of independence, and. tho “ thoughts -Jhat breathe, and words that, burn,” contained in tho De claration, signed in yonder State House. To this union do we owe.it, that tho flag of our country, once the scoff of our transatlantic rival, has ever since inspired love at homo aud respect abroad, and is flapping its gorgeous folds over land aud sea.— By what name do we designate our common coun try?. Tho United States. Upon what basis have foreign powers recognized our nationality, and sent hither their ambassadors ? The United States. In what capacity did Franco acknowledge our Inde pendence, and Groat Britain .herself relinquish her lofty pretensions ? Tho United States. In this character was the war for. freedom begun, prosecu ted, and consummated.- And in this samp charac ter have.all the powers of tho globe, with whom we have to do, received us Into the .catalogue of nations, and concluded, with us treaties of friendship, and commerce. .Without controversy, therefore, if wo wouldper potuato our free institutions, and transmit them un impaired to distant generations, ice mnstpreserveour bund of Union, It .must ho to us what the ark of the covenant was to the devout Hebrew—a sacred vessel—not to bo touched by profa'no and unhal lowed hands. The word 41 JOissolution” by Ameri can lips, should be unpronouneablo. It should blister the tongue.of every man that uses it, except to anathematize. It should be stricken from every American dictionary—bniiished from every Ameri can school and from every American-family—as the one word not needful, hut most odious uild,.hateful. But, alas, harbod arrows docs it send to the quiv ering flesh', in these latter degenerate days, to sco men chosen to guard this National Ark, and sworn on.'two Holy Evangels standing boldly up in the very city hearing the name of the Father of our Country, and in the very halls of Government* cal culating its value by the poor arithmetic of dollars and cents, us they would the value of a railway ora factory! Sampson-lilco, they would demolish the very gate-posts of our political Gaza, though them-' solves, perish in the ruins. These are among the most ominous “ Signs of the Timps." The mariner, when long tossed on the tompestu-* ous billows, at length oasts his anchor, and repairs to his nautical implements, to ascertain his latitude ond longitude. So should wo—-voyagers on the perilous ocean of time—direct our telescopes heav enward, and sco whither wo are drifting. Wo know what wo have. For this let us offer unto God thanks giving. May wo not bojudiciallyblincfcd,however, to the things wo need. And those things, will con stitute the topic of our next inquiry. I. We weed a wore meui of our depen dence on God. , This our forefathers possessed, or r the republic would never have been, established. They appreciated that the “ race is not to the swift nor the battle to the strong"—that“ promotion oom cth neither from the East,, nor from the West, nor from the North, nor from the South, hut Ood ls the judge—he putteth down one and aotteth up* anoth er." They knew that Washington bright fight and: Jefferson write, yet the crowning issues, wore from above. Hence, in everything, by prayer and sup plication, wiih thanksgiving, they made, their re quests known unto God. Some of the groat men of our day, however, fancy themselves gods, living and. moving and having their —being'in themselves! Restless spirits, they ato caught up by the agita tions of the times,, jastias straws are carried aloft by the whirlwind, until they imagine, that they are actually part of the tempest by which they have boon elevated 1 Of Gad,- who made, the world, and governs it,they make no account whatever,* whereas, both Union-sayors and Union-murderers, without his unseen and universal providence, are too impo tent “ to waft a feather or to drown a fly." Too long havo wo supplicated men—even "inen of like passions with dhrsolvos." Wo have address ed petitions to Congress, numerous as the stars of heaven, and as various in thoir contents ns the col ors of Josephs odat. Thoro they have boon tossed, like a weaver’s shuttle, from chamber to, chamber, sometimes laid upon tho table and sometimes under it. Now, lotus begin to supplicate God. And if wo do so, one and all, praying for “tho unity of tho spirit in tho bond of peace," by angels and agencies wo dream hot of, soon will he intervene in our af fairs, and restore poaco and lovo to our distracted councils. . IX. }Yc need, alto, a deeper and more pervading, tense of national accountability. Are mon individu alized? So arq nations. Are men stewards? -So are nations. Both arc summoned to a reckoning upon the immutable and eternal principles of the Divine government.lf this bo hot so, what was tho lesson of tho deluge ? :3Y-hafc-signified tho destruc tion of Nineveh,* Babylon, Egypt; Carthage, Tyro and Homo? And what meant the woes declared upon Chorazin, Bothtaida, and Capernaum? Ver ily, stone! blind to tfao'divine teachings must we bo,, if there looms notup before us.the solemn truth of ohr national accountability. This groat truth, wo may strive to forgot and deny, batdo what we may, we oanoot banish Jehovah from bis Throne. The'boundaries of individual and collective ac countability, where the ope ends and the other be gins, it is ttuo, with our limited capacities, wo can not always define. Our national life, rising , from the broad basis of tho popular will, is like a finely woven fabric, in which we cannot, trace tho inter lacings of the threads; nor toll whether the threads were from tho sheep .of Syria or Peru—nor whether the sheep were largo or small, loan or, fat.. But tho omniscient Judge can and does ry human complication, and give.to each actor his deserts. And iu this separate judgment the tbholc is not overlooked. Not tho wicked only are over whelmed with tho divine judgments, but “all tho nations that forgot God.” Oh, that wo, as a people, might speedily, awake, to tho truth, that wo are linked-to heaven’s favor by no special immunity, but are in all things subject to its immutable juris prudence. HI. Wo need, furthermore, a more realising sense of the grandeur and vastness of our national mission. It may bo doubted, indeed* whether any nation that has over existed, in tho revolving tide of time, has had greater or graver responsibilities thrown upon it than are now resting upon those United States. Tho chief difficulty is, that to tho full stature of these obligations it is not possible to elevate our selves, they are so gigantic. As tho tribe of Levi was separated from the rest of tho tribes of Judah, and consecrated to a special, service, so have wo been sot apart, on this Western continent, to be God’s Chosen Priesthood to the rest of the world. Our mission is not simply to subdue the .wilderness, build totvns and cities, float navies, and 1 foster the arts and science's, but we are to oaj jy the blessings wo enjoy td the other nations’ of tho earth. ■ . '.As to the future numbers of this nation, if Vro re main united, no man can wisely offer a definite con jecture. The child is now born, that may see this government embrace a population of'ono hundred and fifty millions; and before bo becomes a grand parent, it may reach five hundred millions, and oven then bo less densely occupied than Italy, France, Spain, or the British Islands. Here is-li prospec tive spectacle, whoso august responsibilities may well fill tho mind with awe. And if with Abraham it was .a motive, to faithfulness that bis posterity should become “as the stars of heaven,” and that ho was acting for them, what influence ought it not to exorcise over us , that wo are acting for such a mighty mass of humanity as shall exist in this land when wo shall be numbered with tho dead ? . And in tho Christianization of tho world, If we remain an united people, what combination of fig ures shall suffice to demonstrate tho sum total of our capabilities ? American missionaries - are oven •now sweeping the world’s circumference, and they are still spreading.from “Greenland’s icy mountains to India’s coral strand.” Long have wo boon labor ing eastward to beleaguer with our camps of light tho Kingdom of Darkness, and thence gain access to China and the inidnighted Spico -Islands of tho Eastern Seas. But now, following tho Star of Em pire, wo advance upon them from across .tho.ocean froin tho west. And when, by tbo railroad over Ore gon, and tho steam navigation over tho-Pacific and Atlantic, tho remotest BasV is brought' in close proximity with, tho farthest. West, and tbo way of speediest communication between America and Eastern Asia will bo from California-to tho Chinese soaß—thon, if tho Church in America improves her opportunities, wo shall see the, angel having the everlasting Gospel flying over tho whole earth, and tho chain of.missionary piety encircling tho whole globe] -And this high and holy, mission wo must fulfil, or .go down, to eternity as defaulters.' Fulfil it we can and will, if wo remain an people. Fulfil it wo cannot, and will not, if wo divide j be cause then, for spreading strife and ruin among our selves, wo will have no will nor time, to spread, the, Goapel among tho heathen. ’ r. > ■ \ - IV. But toe need, too, a spirit of mutual Concession ■and forbearance. Wo see what >YVath and) Hate . threaten to, do, with their tempests of bitterness, and ;. Ihcii' heavOUd gloWing like brass, and theft hourliite' \ the'raging of a furnace. Corrosive envies, green-. eyed jealousies, hearts boilingoverwith oholor,aud 1 Babel tongues out of tune with noises of clamorous contradiction f These are tho fruits, of this section al war of crimination and recrimination. Now, lot us, for tho future, tost, tho power of Lovo. “A soft answer fcurnoth away wrath,". “Blessed are ’ tho peacemakers." Why, when tho angelic convoy agreed to wish mankind their most elevated felicity, they could not better express their sense of it than by tho announcement of “Peace on earth, and good will to men.” That we should all think alike on grave questions of public policy, is not to bo expected. Boundless, is the field of knowledge and interest, and diversified, ns tho flowers of the field, and as tho heavenly orbs, are the operations, of tho intelligent and immortal mind. But shall wo, on this account, pursue each other with fire and fagot, and seek to dismember our national confede racy? No f let us bear and forbear! Lotus discard, those sectional prejudices and animosities, which, like a dark cloud of oriental locusts, are spreading themselves • over our land, and consuming every green thing. If wo of the North havo done our brethren of tho South injustice, by tho passage of laws violative of tho national compact, let ua undo the wrong we have done with all possible alacrity. If they uf tho South are asking more. than, the cove-* nant grants, lot them lower their demands, and so let every root of bitterness bo removed. God has not given a monopoly of conscience to either side of tho Potomac. • Away,, then, with this iron Pro qiistos bed, that would accommodate every man to its own dimensions—stretching the too short, and shortening the too tall! No ! Theremustbe mutu al concession, which wo trust Will take place, through a Convention, composed of delegates from.every State and Territory in the. Union V. Last, but not least) too need the cultivation of a foijous and cheerful hope. Among the most cherish ed maxims of Homo was this: “Never despair of tho Republic." The lessons of a nation’s virtue, like those of individuals, are often best taught in tho school of adversity. Those, it is granted, are often dearly purchased. Often they drench tho land in blood, strew tho earth with ruins, and turn the sky yellow with pestilence. But, the more lowering tho national horizon,'the more need there is of trust and hope. All is hot lost that is in danger. It may bo thtit just now, a menacing meteor is dark* oning our horizon; hut “Portents and prodigies are grown so frequent, That they have almost lost their name." God can still pour oil on the troubled waves and smooth them into a limpid and glassy expanse. — The wrath of man he Can restrain, and describe to it boundaries, saying to it, as he has to tho waters of tho ocean: “Hitherto shalt thou come, but no farther," Wo do not behave wisely, therefore, when we speak despairingly of our good old ship of State. By God’s blessing she has outridden in safety many a storm, and shall she not, also, outride this ? And for,tho inculcation of such a spiritof trust and hope, who can do more than our public journalists ? Tho newspaper with iis is one of the groat moral engines of the ago, moulding and directing to an incalcula ble degree, tho opinions and activities of the masses. It is the lever of Archimedes with a place to rest on. If tho.invention of the ship, because itconvoys from land to land commodities, and obnsooiatos remote regions in a participation of each other’s fruits, bo regarded as so distinguished a blessing—much more tho newspaper —which copes every sea, traverses eve ry lake, climbs every mounialn, and lingers in eve ry valley—the true.transcript of the world'si.faco, daily mirrored forth— the knowledge of millions, dispensed daily to other millions. How important, then; that the press, in this national conjuncture, be a peace maker, not a peace breaker! Consecrated, - not to factiou, but to country! Some newspapers hro like tho tails of Sampson’s foxes —they carry fire-brands enough to sot the field of tho world on fire. Thank heaven, they are not all of this sort.— All honor to those good and noble journalists, who arc doing all in their power to roll back the tide ot disloyalty to tho Union and tho Constitution I Goa bless them! • * , • ;, But, from tens of thousands of palpitating hearts there comes just new the anxious inquiry : the Union really in dangerf Is the bond of our Nation al brotherhood, cemented by tho blood of sainted no-, roes and martyrs, in very deed, to ho rent in twain ? Wo can only answer in tho emphatic language of Holy Writ; God forbid/ Ood forbid! This is most certainly true, that tho ago in which this Union pe rishes, will be tho opposite of that in which it was constructed, and as the oqo has earned undying, fame, tho other will merit and receive an immortal ity of obloquy. If it ovor bo dissolved, it can only bo by tho destruction of tho dearest temporal inte rests of mankind. It can only bo by flying in tho face oC tho most solemn precepts of tho illustrious dead. • It can only bo, by trampling, with Goth and Vandal violence, their lessons, thoir toils, their sac rifices, their tears, their prayers, and their blood, under our feet, and exhibiting thoblaokost and dark est Ingratitude to high heaven, of which evet any nation on God’s earth was guilty. , Speaking for ourselves, wo'regard the American Union, under God, as a moral, physical, commercial, CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, DECEMBER 13, 1860. religious neeceaiiy. And as wol), we think, might wo attempt, peaceably, and without detriment, to de compose the groat element of'Anluro, which holds together the wd stars, and systems, which roll in the as to sorer the chain that unites iUperfiglO™™ whole this groat confederacy of Amorroan States, without involving all in general and wide-spread disaster. From this groat calamity, with its train of evils untold and un conceivod, may the God of Heaven, in infinite mer cy, deliver us! May our Potomac never become our Rubicon! May tho word- v 7cliaSod” never ho written on our national sky 1 ■ But; may tho begin ning and tho ending, the Alpha and tho Omega of all our politics, and all our legislation, and all our statesmanship, bo—tho preservation, until tho trump of the arch-angel shall announce tho end of time, of Our free,’blessed, happy Union 1 i And now to this prayer, who, that fears God, loves his country, and is concerned for tho happiness of tho generations that shall succeed him, will refuse, from his heart’s overflowing fulness, to respond Amen I So mote it he 1 Amek J KATE YALE’S MARRIAGE, “ If ever I marry,” KatoYalo used to say, half in jest, and half in earnest, “the happy man—or the unhappy dne. if you please, ha 1 ha I—shall be a person possessed of those three qualifications: w “First, a fortune. V ■ “ Second, good lookfi. : *,* Third, common sense/' ' . ■ “I mention the fortune first, because I think it the most needful and desirable quali fication of the three. Although I never could think of marrying a fool, or a man whose ug liness I should be ashamed of, stilt I think to talk sense for the one, and shine for tho other •with plenty of money, would he preferable to living obscure with a linndsome, intellectual man—to whom economy might he necessary. I do not know how.muoh of this sentiment came from Kate’s heart. She undoubtedly indulged in lofty ideas of station and style— for her education in the duties and aims of life had been deficient, or rather erroneous ; but .that shewas capable hf deeper, better feelings, hone ever doubted who had obtained oven a partial glimpse’of her true wompn’s nature. . And the time arrived when Kate was to take that all important step of which she had often spoken sd lightly—when she was to de monstrate to her friends ligw much of her heart was in tho words we have just quoted. , At the enchanting age of eighteen she had many suitors, but-as she never gave a serious thought to more than two, we will follow her example, and,' discarding fill gibers, except those favored ones, consider their relative claims. ■ , If this were any other thim a true story, I should certainly use an artist’s privilege, and, aim to produce an effect by peaking a strong contrast between the two favored individuals? If I could have my bwn> way, one should be. a poor genius and something of. a hero; the other a wealthy fool, and somewhat of ijj knave. ' • ■ ' ■. ’ . j Butthotruthia- ■' ,jV ' Our poor genius was noUfa.ucAof a genius j ,i--net sion a teacher'of music, ancl So coqld live very' comfortably by the exercise thereof —without! the. most distant hope, however, of ever at-; timing to wealth. , Francis Minot; possessed excellent qualities;;,which entitled him to-, be called by eldorly pebplo a “.fine character," by his companions, a “ noble good, fellow,” and by the ladies generally, a “ dap ling.’’ , Kate could not help loving Mr. Frank, and he knew it. Ho was certain she preferred his society even to that of Mr. Wellington, whom alone ho saw fit to honor with tho appellation of rival. This Mr. Wellington—his companions call ed him “ no idiot or humpback, as I could hare wished him to be, in order to make a good story.' On the contrary, ho was a .man of seusc, good looks, and fine manners, and there was nothing of the knave about him, as I could ever ascertain. Beside this, his income was sufficient to en able - him to live superbly. Also, he was con sidered two or three degrees handsomer than Mr. Frank MinOt. Therefore, the only thing on which Frhnk had to depend was the power he possessed over Kate’s sympathies and affections. The “Duke," although: just the man for her in every sense, being blessed with a fortune, good looks and common sense—had never been able to draw those out, and the amiable, conceited Mr. Frank, was not willing to be lieve that she would suffer mere wordly con siderations to control the aspirations of the heart. However, one day, when he pressed her to declare his fate, she said to him with a sign : “ Oh, Frank I lam sorry we ever met!" “ Sorry I" “ Yea; for' we must part now." “ Part!” repeated Frank, turning pale. It was evident bo. had not expected this. “ Yes—yes," said Kate, casting down her head with another piteous sigh, Frank sat by her side; he placed his arm around her waist, without heeding her feeble resistance; he lowered his voice, and talked to her until she; —proud Kate—wept bitterly. “ Katie,” said ho, then, with a hurst of passion, “I know you love me; but you are Eroud, ambitious, selfish 1 Now, if you would ave me leave you, say the word and I go.” “ Gomurmured Kate;“ go." “ Have you decided ?" whispered Frank. “I have." “ Then, love, farewell.” He took her hand, gazed a moment, tender ly and sorrowfully, into her beautiful, tearful face, and then clasped her to his bosom. She permitted the embrace. She even gave way to' impulse, and twined her arms around his neck; but in a moment her resolution came to her aid, and she pushed him from her with a sigh. “ Shall Igo ho articulated. A feeble yes fell from her lips—and an in stant later she was lying on tho sofa, sobbing and weeping alone. To tear the tenacious root of love out of her heart had cost hen more than she could hove anticipated, and the certainty of a golden life of .luxury proved but d poor consolation, it seemed, for the sacrifice she had made. She lay long upon the sofa, I soy, sobbing and weeping passionately. Gradually her grief appeared to exhaust itself. Her tears ceased to flow, and at length her eyes and cheeks were dry. Her head was pillowed on her arm, and her face was half hidden in a flood of curls. .The struggle wasjover. The agony was past. , She saw Mr. Wellington enter, and rose cheerfully to meet him. His manners pleased her—his station and fortune fascina ted her more. He offered her his hand —she accepted if A kiss scaled the engagement— It was not such a kiss ns Frank had given her, and she could scarce repress a sigh I ' There was d.magpificent wadding- Hp - didly attired, dazzling the eye with ho ty thus adorned, with everythmg aromid swimming in the oharmed “ “X 6 ™ fairy-land Kate gave her - a hotter choice. Already she saw herself sur rounded by a magnificent court, of which she was the acknowledged and admired queen.— The favors of fortune were showered upon i her, she floated luxuriously upon the smooth i and glassy wave of a charmed life. _ , Nothing was wanted in the whole circle of hor existence to adorn it, and make it bright i with happiness. Bat she was not long in dis- i covering that there was something wanting in her breast. , , , Her friends were numerous, her husband tender and kind, and loving; but all the. at tention and nifeetions could not fill hor heart. She had onob felt its chord and sympathy moved by a skillful touch—she hod not known the heavenly charm of tho deep delicious har mony, and now they wore silent—motionless, muffled so as to speak in silks and satins. — These chords were still and soundless. Her heart was dead; none the less so because kill ed by a golden shot, having known and felt the life of sympathy in it, by the life of luxury. In short, Kate in time be came magnificently miserable, splendidly un hftCn a change became apparent to her I husband, lie could not remain long blind to tho fact that his love was not returned. . .He' sought tho company of those whose gayety might lead him to forget the sorrow and de spair of his soul. This shallow joke, how ever, was unsatisfactory, and impelled by a powerful longing for love, he went astray to warm his heart by a strange fire. ■ Kate saw herself now 'in the midst of a gorgeous desolation,. burning with a thirst unconquerable by golden streams that flowed Sfcnd her—panting with a hunger which not nil the food of flattery and .admiration could appease. She reproached her husband for_ deserting husband, and, he answered her with- angry . and desperate taunte.of deception, and a to tal lack of love, which smote hor conscience heavily. . , “You do not care for me,” he cried;— “ then why do you complain that I bestow elsewhere the affliction you have met with coldness 1” , “ But it is wrong—sinful,” Kate remonstra ted. - “ Yea,,l know it,” said her husband, firce ly. !“It is the evil fruit of an evil seed. And who sowed that seed ? Who gave me a hand without'a heart? Who became a sharer of my fortune, hut gave me no share in her sympathy ? Who devoted rno to the fate of a loving, unloved husband? Nay, do not weep, and clasp your hands; and sigh and sob with such desperation, "for 1 say nothing you do not deserve to hear.” .“Very well,” said Kalb, “I do not say your reproaches are undeserved. But, grant ing.! am the cold, deceitful thing you call ine, you know this states of things cannot contin ue;” . ' • ■ “Yes, I know it.” “ Weil?” . Mr. Wellington’s' brow gathered darkly—' his eyes flashed with determination; his lips r ’ "]■ ' .I havb made up'my mind,” said he, “that we should not live together any longer. I am tired of being called the husband of the splen did Mrs. Wellington. I will move in my cir cle ; you shall shine in yours; I will place no restraint on your actions, nor shall you on mind. Wo will be free." „ . “But the world I" shrieked poor: Kate, trembling. “ The world will admire you the same; and what more do you desire 7" asked her husband bitterly. “ This marriage of hands and notof hearts is mockery. : Wo have played the farce long enough. Few understand the true meaning of the terms husband and wife ; but t db you know what they should mean ? Do ’you feel that the only, true union is that of love and sympathy ?” Then enough of this muniery. Farewell. Igo to consult friends about the terms of separation. Nay, do not tremble and cry, nnd cling to rae now ; I shall be liberal to you. As much of my fortune shall be yours as you desire.” Ho pushed her from him. She fell upon the sofa. From a heart torn with anguish she shrieked aloud: “ Frank 1 Frank 1 whydid I send you from me? Why was I blind until sight brought mo misery ?” . She lay upon the sofa, sobbing and weep ing passionately. Gradually her grief ap peared to exhaust itself; her breathing be came calm ;• her eyes and cheeks dry; her head lay peacefully on her arm oyer which swept her dishevelled tresses, until with a start she cried; “ Frank! oh Frank! come hack 1" Here I ahi said a sof voice by her side. She raised her head. She opened her aston ished eyes. Frank was standing beside her. “ Yon have been asleep,” he said, smiling kindly." “Asleep!” “And dreaming, too, I should say; not pleasantly, either." “Dreaming 1” murmured Kate, “and is it all a dream I” - .“ I hope so,” replied Frank, taking her hand. “ You could not moan to send me away from you so cruelly, I knew. So I waited in your father’s study, whore I have been talk ing with him all of an hour. I- came back to plead my cause with you once more, and I found you here where I left you, asleep." “Oh 1 what a horrible dream 1" murmured Kata, rubbing her eyes. “It was so like a terrible reality that I shudder now to think of it. I thought I was married 1" . “And what would that be so horrible?” asked Frank. “I hope, then you did not dream you wore married to me 1” “ No, I thought I gave my hand without my heart 1" “ Then if you gave your hand, it would not be without your heart ?" “ No, Frank," said Kate, and her bright eyes were beaming happily through her tears, “ and here it is I" And soon there was a real marriage—not a splendid, but happy one—followed by o life of lota, of contentment; and that was the marriage of Frank Minot and Kate Yale. Upright Men. —Wo love upright men.—• Pull them this way and the other, they only bend, but never break. Trip them down and i in a trice they are on their feet again. .Bury them in the mud, and in an hour they one ou arid bright. You cannot keep them down yon cannot destroy them. They a _ v. of tho earth. Who but they atart^ any'noble nroieot? They build our cities, whiten the ocean with satis, and supply ra.lroads with cars Look to them, young men, catoh a from their energy. spark - - . . O-A jockey, boasting of his horse, grave-, 1 v assorted that when he was but three months old, lightning tilled the old mare and chased idie edit all round the pasture, but could not catch him. __ ■ ■ O»An editor out west prints all his niar rellous accounts of murders, elopemehts/and robberies on India-rubber paper, so that his readers will be able to stretch these stories to any length that pleases them. Wliat is the Price? “ You’re going to enter into the matrimoni al state, are you, Mr. Brown? And you think you’re coming into possession of an an gel? . Yes, hut angels cost money. Did it ever" occur to you what an expensive article your fashionable young wife was likely to prove ? Bless your unsophisticated soul! you’ve no more idea of it than you have of the price of onions, or tho market-value of a wash-tub. — You’ll find out one day, however—to your grief. • . . Two or three stout Irish girls to wait on hor—a French maid to arrange her hair—fif ty dollar silks and camel’s hair shawls to make her female friends euvious,.and half a dozen bonnets per annum —white kid gloves and silver card , cases—otto of roses and bo quet-holders—why, you deluded young man, she’ll throw money out with her ringed and lilly-whito fingers faster by the bushel, than you can shovel it in with aspedo ! You don’t believe it? Bet us make a rough eslimatn, then of what she will cost in full promenade costume. Bonnot (a loyo of a thing, the sweetest white chip, and sue h a bargain) fifteen dollars. In dia shawl (Of course you wont he such a brute as to expect your wife to wear common cash mere or broche, just like the butcher's hotter half) only seventy-five, the cheapest thing in Now York? , Dress, an eleven-flounced silk, forty-five dollars, including the trimmings and the poorly paid labor of the hollow-cheeked dress-maker; Valenciennes collars andsleeyes, at twenty-five ; cunning, little heeled gaiter boots three; gloves, one; Etruscan bracelet, fifty (you expect your wife to dress like other women, don’t you ? and everybody has Etru scan bracelets;) brooch and ear-rings in Ital ian cameo, thirty; enameled watch and chain, seventy-five; card-case, twenty; a “duck" of a Chantilly veil, ten; embroidered handker chief, eight; lace parasol, lined with lavender silk, ten ; crinoline, throe; and other “ belong? lugs” lace-edged and sumptuously decorated, about ten, as near ns a body can venture to guess. Now all this is nn exceeding moder ate assessment—there are as many who ex ceed it ns fall short of it. How much do you suppose it amounts to; my good. Mr. Brown ?,| IVell, your angel, in the simple matter of plu mage for this one occasion, costs you not far. from four hundred dollars. Yes, you may open your eyes and twirl your moustache in that incredulous sort of a way; do you sup pose toe don't know all about it? Yes, and whim the billa como in you will remember our words of warning 1 You’re doing a remarka bly, foolish thing when you marry one of these cameliu-japonica divinities;" white-handed, helpless, and knowing just about as much of real life, every-day life, as a canary bird might bo expected'to understand. If we were a man, we should, ns soon think of marrying a frail hot-house plant, ns one of these delicate 1 sprigs of the ornamental. Give us the apple blossom type of woman— i sunny, cheerful duel useful—something equal to every emergency, from washing day to a t Fifth avenue soiree—something that under i stands the handling of a broom, and knows - what the kitchen poker is made for, and can - calculate to a nicety the exact amount of > mince meat requisite in a model pie, besides i liking a bit of fun as well as the next woman, i and possessing a pretty weakness for lively books and spicy, newspapers! That’s the ar ticle for our money. , A wife who would select gingham instead of silk, when she went shopping, and freshen up her old bonnet with a bunch of satin vio lets and a new‘ribbon instead of paying an extravagant price for the latest Paris fooler? ies, not because she hadn’t a woman’s natural penchant for such things, but because she wan ted to save money—because her little-head was full of schemes some day to contribute something, toward releasing her husband from the bondage and drudgery of desk or counter! Do you suppose the value of such'a wife can he counted in gold pieces ? Let your satin robed doll sweep contemptuously past her or Broadway, Mr. Brown—time will prove which is the best instrument. | Only, before you purchase the useless jew eled toy, think twice about it; Ask yourself soberly and reasonably, “ What is the price ?” and “Can I afford it?” or it maybe the dear est bargain you over made in your life ? Life Illustrated. The Apalachinn Indians. The history of the West Indies, by .Roche fort, in 1657, contains an interesting, but im probable account of the Florida Indians of that day. They are represented as dressing with a degree of barbaric taste; living in hou ses of stakes, roofed with reeds and the imper vious gum of a tree, and floored with cement; sleeping on rude bedsteads, with beds of skins and sacks stuffed with down, and laid over with ornamented peltries, and eating with a splinter of bone, used ns a fork. Their food was vegetables—never flesh until the Euro pean came—and their drink water, a kind of beer, and a beverage made with honey. They wore remaikdbly industrious, having all their lands in common, and working under their chief, in battalions. They Had various musi cal instruments, in which they were skilful, and were addicted to singirig and of amiable and teachable' disposition. They traded among themselves, and had a currency of dif ferent colored grains. Polygamy was prac ticed, and marriages wore always among rela tives, any other being considered disreputa ble. They only fought for self defence, using bows, and war clubs, slings and javelius.— They spared all who asked mercy in war, and only scalped the slain. Their priests wore al so physicians, and they worshipped the sun, to which they offered songs and prayers eve ry morning and evening. They had a great religious celebration four times a year, when they burned incense, had songs and. dances, ami lot fly saored birds. They believed m the immortality of the soul, and bad traditions ot the deluge. The bodies of the dead were em balmed before buried. In the morning they , used to out off some of their bnir, but on the death of the king shaved the whole crown, and ; kept it bare three years, during which time , the royal corpse remained. There were still a few of these Indians left in 1758, but are now extinct. jgy- A Western author thus concludes his ‘‘exciting tale:” Ho soon unfolded his sad tale to his friend, and finally consented to live if Henry would give him a chow of tobacco.— Ho returned to the house; and in his haggard countenance Jane saw his unhappy condition. He never got over it, though. About twenty years after he fell from a wagon, and his neck Was broken, for a Sheriff, had thoughtlessly slipped a rope around it. Bgjp’lt has been said of the homo of the scolding wife, that ‘‘ it’s a bad house where the hen crows louder than the coot." ' A missionary now hi Sumatra lately wrote home that he had ‘had the melancholy satisfaction of examining the oven in which his 'predecessor was cooked.’ & Brother’s love, There is something transcendently virludW in the affections of a warm-hearted .brpthta towards his gentle and amiable sister,- Ha can feel unbounded admiration for her beauty —he can appreciate and applaud the kind ness which she bestows upon himself. Ha can watch the blush steal over her features, when he tells her of her innocent follies, tad he can olasp her to his bosom in consolation when tears gush from her overloaded heart. With woman there is a feeling of pride mingled with the regard which she has for a brother. She looks upon him as one fitted .to brave the tempest of the world—-as one to whose arm of protection she can fly for shel ter, when she is stricken by sorrow, wronged or oppressed—as one whose honor is connect ed with her own, and who will not seeherin snltod with impunity. He is to her what the oak is to the vine—and though she may.fear all others of mankind, she is secure and con fident in the love and protection of her bro ther. . Nothing affords such. satisfaction, nothing entwines a sister so effectually among his sympathies and interests, as profound reli ance on her virtue; and an abiding convic tion of her diffidence and delicacy. As these two latter are by far the most delightful qualities of a female, so they ore the strongest spells for enticing away the affections of' the other-sex. A female without delicacy, is a woman without principle —and as an innate and shrinking perception, of virtue is a true characteristic of a pure hearted creature, so it is the. most infallible union between hearts that truly beat in response with each other. There is more tenderness in the disposition of woman than of man; hut the affection of a brother is full of the purest and most gener ous impulse; it cannot bo quenched by aught on earth, and will outlive all selfish and sor did attachments. A deep rooted regard fora gcntlo creature, born of the same parents with ourselves, is certainly one of the noblest feel ings of our nature ; and was every othorfoel ing of human nature dead save, thore would still a bright hope remain that the fountain of virtue and principle were not yet sealed* Cruelly of Unman Beings to Animals. . Half of the suffering endured by men attd dumb creatures is wantonly inflicted, by cither cruel or heedless persons, as if there was riot enough unavoidable misoryjn the world with out making more; How many wives, • hus bands, parents, children, friends, .acquaintan ces arid even strangers are every day, every hour, every minute, mode unhappy by unkind acts,' cruel words, by slights, by sour looks, and by unnecessary 6rpsses. : : Nor are human beings the only sufferers from heedless, cruel, and rough men. The poor animals that contribute most to man’s comfort and support are roughly handled, severely treated, .and cruelly beaten by those ■whom they most benefit. Perhaps ninety nine out of a hundred blind horses, and oxen .have been majjto-blfy.d by blows in their ey«£ rind when blind they are often cruelly treated for stumblirig or for going into bad places, or for running against passing Vehicles. 1 Some people are cruel to their own kind atuMmmane to animals, and vice versa, whilst some people, fiill of brutal instincts, are cruel alike to men and animals. Nothing more ex cites the indignation of a good hearted man than an exhibition of cruelty towards poor, dumb creatures, and nothing shows more completely the meanness and cowardice of a man than cruelty to animals that cannot de fend themselves, and that toil from morning till night for man’s benefit. The system of Pythagofks provided;a.most appropriate punishment for auch people. It condemned them to he changed after death into such animals as they most persecuted in life, and to become the property of a cruel master. The laws ogainst cruelty to animals should bo rigorously enforced. ■Better in Theobv than in Practice.— Not many years ago two young Frenchmen— one wealthy and in possession of ready cash, the other poor and penniless:—occupied by ' chance the same room in a suburban hotel.—, In the morning, the seedy one arose first, took from his pocket a pistol, and holding it to his own forehead, and backing against the door, exclaimed to his horrified companionlt is my last desperate resort; I am penniless and tired of life: give me five hundred francs, or I will instantly blow out my brains, and you will be arrested as a murderer I” The other passenger found himself the hero of an unpleasant dilemma, but the cogency of his companion’s argument struck him “ coldhe quietly crept to his pantaloons, handed over the amount, and the other vamosed, after looking the door on the outside. Hearing of this, another Frenchman, of very savage as* peot, one .night contrived to room with a tall rawbonod gentleman from Arkansas, Who had been rather free of his money during the day, and evidently had plenty more behind. Next morning, “ Pike,” awaking, bis room-mate standing over him with a_ pistol leveled at his own forehead, arid evidently quaking with agitation. “ IVhat in-*—* are you standin’ thar for in*the cold ?” asked Pike, propping himself on his elbow, and cpolly surveying the Gaul. “I am desperatt I” was the reply; “you gives to riio one hundredth)!*, lar or I blows out mine prairis!" “Well then, blow arid bo damned I” replied Pike, turning . over. “Bote you vill be arrest for ze mew* tre,” persisted Gaul, earnestly. "Eh What? that ?’’ said Pike: “ oh, I see f"—and sudden* ly drawing a revolver and a largo bowio from under his pillow, he sat upright. £ man may ns well bo hung for a sheep as a lamb, ■ ho coolly shouted • and ot the wordhe started for the Gaul, but the latter was too nimble— the “boss pistol," innocent of lead, exploded in the air, and with one frantic leap onr little Frenchman was standing in his night-roke at, I tho fqot of the. staircase. A proof that whafc may suit one latitude will not always answer for another. . The Old Pcbitan SißßvrH.'-*»ln old times in New England, the Sabbath commenced bn Saturday at sunset. The congregation was usually called together by the blowing of tha born, few .churches, being rich enough to bars a bell. Services usually began;Ot,»o’clock, and occupied six or bight hours, with one hour for dinner, which was always a cold collation, no cooking being allowed, Tha- sexton for mally escorted the minister to the church*' which had only benches for seats, allotted ac cording to age and rank, with great punctil io. A stove and fire in any weathor werO long unknown, and were. Considered highly improper when firet proposed_hnd dong after. The Psalms were dictated ; line, by: line, for singing, usually by a deacon. The "tong pray Or’ was often an hour 6r toorein length, and the sermon two hours. : After servioe th* congregation kept their seats untilthomini#- 1 tor had passed out.' iregp.tnadp, - seat. Traveling on Sunday, oraflykind'nf labor, was strictly punished by fine or im prisonment. NO. 27.