VOL. 48. AMERICAN VOLUNTEER, JDDT.ISRED EVERY THURSDAY MORNTKG DT jora B, Bft4TXp. T E 11 MS Subscription.— Ono Dollar and Fifty Cents, paid |n ftflranco; Two Dollars, if paid within tbo year; *nd Two Dollars and Fifty Cents, if not paid within the year. These terms will bo rigidly adhered to in fverv instance., No subscription discontinued until §JI arrearages aro paid unless at tbo option of tbo Editor. ADVEimsEMENTS-T-Aocompaniodby tbo cash, and cot exceeding. one square, will bo inserted throe times for One Dollar, and tw.enty-fiyd.conts-.for.each additional-insertion. . Those of a greater length in proportion. . ' Jo'd-JPrtntinq— Such as Hand-bills, Posting-bills, yampblets, Blanks, Labels, Ac, <fec., executed *yith accuracy and at tbo shortest notice. . ' -|qttlra.L For Ibo Volunteer, MI, NATIVE LASiDj / !t ia wy nature to brood,, and not to talk', whoa anger first takes hold of me, and just, now I was very' angry. I would not look at her when she addressed me ; I would not look at her when she laid her hand upon my shoulders, and by-and-by she loft the room, and I remained alone,’ I thought on until, one by one, reasons and excuses .for what I had seen, presented them; solves to my mind,' There’were other per-. sqns in the house ; those footsteps might have been made by some amongst them. Shadows are playful things, and some fold of drapery or projection of wood-work might have thrown upon the curtain the similitude of a man’s head. Why should she deceive me?—what possible motive couldsho nave in so doing ? 3r -. my little innocent wife/whom I had wedded in a quiet country, place, far from the,city’s wickedness ? The nightmare was lifted ; ! atood’up, drew' a deep breath, and wept in search of heri In my contrition I did not even ask ber.a question, or hint at what bad been hidden in my mind; Yet the suspicion was not quite dead—-it only lay quiescent. Had! been asked the education, I should have said I did not doubt her ; yet, why was it that X had caught myself looking for a lace which 1 had never seen in every crowded street through which I passed ? IVhy was I always , expecting th .see. before mo an .oriental’’head covered' -with masses "of dark hair, which /might east in the lamplight such a shadow as X had seen upon the curtain on the previous night ? ’. Aly wife had a friend—a woman whq»n I disliked and doubted—a widow who lived in dashing stylo, and had a bold, unfomiirine manner, and a reckless way of talking. Xloso said she was good and ‘warm-hearted. I be lieve that she was bud and deceitful, When I found this woman .at my house, upon the following day, I was . provoked, and not dis posed to bo’ particularly polite. Still, I fell obliged 1 to see Mrs. Hawley home ; and when she arose to go,,soon after tea, I donned niy hat and overcoat, and walked opt beside her. ’As a goiicrirl thing; i’he'Wa's ready enough to accept my escort-.; but on this night she pro tested that she felt no alarm, and would not allow rao to trouble myself.. She was so much I in earnest—sso'really anxious that I should not go—that I was determined! would. I disliked her, and loved to thwart her, and it pleased mo to sod her b>to, her lip when I per sistently offeree! her ray arm, , and declared myself only too happy to see, her home. Be fore we reached her house, I understood that she did not mean to ask me in, and resolved to invito myself. She baffled me, ho’wevfer. On the threshold she turned, and, with her broad back towards the’door and her large eyes looking into,mine in a determined man ner, said, very severely: “I grieve that I can not ask you in, Mr. Mourdant. There is somebody waiting to soo nyo. on business,,and it is already late." Of course ndthing remained savq to.bow and retire, and I did so immediately. But before I could decond the steps, a servant opened the door. It was’closed almost immediately; still, I had time to descry, behind the wid ows’ portly figure and the more slender shape of the girl who 'admitted her, the figure of a man who stoocl in the hall, in tho full light of tl\e hanging lamp. In that instantaneous glinipse I saw the outline of an oriental head, a black moustache, a pile of purling hair— the shadow which I bad seen upon my wife’s window curtain ; every line—oh! how good my memory was—every line and curve, the same; There was a secret—was it my wife’s or'Mrs. Hawley’s 7 I hoped the latter; I T , . , . ■ ■ , . feared the former. Any other man would 1 had always trusted her. I bad never, for have questioned her, or uttoi od his suspicions, a moment, had reason to doubt her purity and never resting until they were refuted or oon truth. .When the thought first crossed my firmed. I only brooded over mine, warming f ®“ an S‘7 T ftt "hvself, and not at her. tliem into life, and keeping watch for further - phot that I am.] I soliloquised, ‘tt ip because proof before I acted. I had hiding places in lam a man of the world, familiar with its own house, where I used to.crouch hour wickedness, used to the dark scones behind after hour, watching’her. I followed her at the fair ourtoinofhfe, and to tho lifting of in- a distance when she went abroad. I had nooent masks from the brows of wanton-heart- P j a t 0 i lor dosks and drawPl . s , of which she ed women, that this suspicion has crept into ba d no knowledge. I rohd her. letters, even W l’ ’C a ,t lts JVi not llde ‘her shopping memoranda, and camo upon her thore whore hers rests nighty. Of my own suddenly, Rt unexpected moments. Still I Sfc^ ? *T' , Mr 88 .^ ,ff ’ ,andIwillBl;r,l ! , S 1 » lt saw nothing, heard nothing, and found no w s furtimr. food for my jealousy The ilame bv-and hv t 0 ej;< ? v £ lEo tllG fiend)' ftml gnidvildered, ashes lay above it,, but it wo,a net ov-and-by it left me, and I saw tho. red eyes dead . ' dreamf ““onlTth^S^fH 8 ? ( r my For a week I had not opened her desk, and 4as on Imr As f ? ot hn( i grown calmer in m/suveillnnee of her pi the old story was haunted bv the hetog of H I '] ne . day B ‘. ttil W in tl,e his own creation, so was I hannthd Uv g the M“ n ’ S l on ’ J T V i memorv of the snsnirimv Mrs - Bawley’s servant at the door with alot vW a r‘‘ ter in his hand, and in a little while heard i tsjaws a , sca^J l ! l S. t°iipnfc which will merits had grown to be like those of a thief I” *’"'!’* -Would nevor J comc t b ’ 1 b ' eVC tb ° ’ P ,^0 I r '; hldo . tied with a blue ribbon ; a valen- It was a sliVhf o ’*!.’ i-i i a tine I had onco sent her lay close bosido them; BuspSlonto n f ,„P V 'I 0 ' 1 awako " fidm y nothing, new. I know that desk by heart.— Ugh 1 what “ tt . r!ark , and a shadow. But, while I looked upon those things care- through ”mv Imn rtf “V B ®°' ned lessly, I caught sight of the corner of an en thou-rht o fi pn velopa protruding from tho corner bfa pam- Bannttbo sXI. that 4,10 doath -° hlll phlot. >y heart boat faster. I pulled it out. Wo had been t , T V wn s directed to my wife, and tho contents Caine homoone rdMit a " d I wor< ? ns foll pws; “Ho—you know who I moan nioro than usual! v“ „/ for her, and —will bo at your house on Wednesday eye rvhich wo alwnvsmn?« 1 l ° x' ls ? Wlt '* n!n «’’’ Xt was s! gned Alice Pawley. ’ ' vpon the doorston T f 101 "’ 1 sto . od ‘.‘Ho—she know who was meant’’—would Sow of tho pnrlo?’ 4 ' 6 Wm r ’ 3O at m ! house on Wednesday evening I I Bus hour, waitine- f nr . S -mi a "’ ay3 Bat , at was to bo absent on that night—my wife unthtn, andon tho whitl' 0- F.liero wora hphta knew it—ad did Mrs, Rawley, Who was he ? ,0 P ro fflo of^ a mJi a shadow, | Had he an oriential profile, a heavy mous juoustacho nniJ mns ,‘V a h b !f °°f, a ,18av y taohe, and n pile of massive black curls heaped wa„ ? plo3 ' a n orroutol i,„ i P 01 u P 11 abou . t l\P nn h 'B head, and flying around h a temp os? wna ‘ ed afullfl inT ;^^ eadl , Sav ® tllat lt Was ho dark? and would his eyes glitter in When she cauio tcT tin's t 0 Inactl '7 Perfect.! the light of a lamp hanging above his head? Pftor a l ongor de « to the door to ndmit me. Did ifo oyer sit so that Kislhadow foil vas nn( , u»ua I she a white curtain ? Whore those his feet wllioli tonio? 8 j° d mto Bio parlor toi>-niw , V ld " 10n dirked thomselves upon tho wot impression dann°a dt .° find B cmnL I” r r Ma T going out as mine went!..? about tho Moni Pt uiat her w °i?’i SS Ho I—what a horrible he it was I Brooding . oom, that her work-basnet in, my lonely corner of the library-looked in My country I my dear native land, . My'heart how bleeds for thco, Thy States were once a,glorious band* Proud of ; their liberty. Our name for. agoB,".long has stood High on the rolls.of fame ; Among the wise, the great, the good, Wg ? vo had a glorious name. Glorious and free, our name,has boon* In every-land where known, : ■ .As a nation of all nations blest, ..God’s gifts most wisely sown. Our land with blessings has been filled* And plenty smiled around, And every hill top, every vale, , With a rich harvest crowned. Our sails on every o.cdan spread* ' With the products, of our land*. And blessings innumerable, >■ Prom a wise and gracious hand. But now, amid,the blessings given* Our,Union’s rent in twain, And far and wide, in every clime,- our glorious name ; . i And liberty our Polar star,. •Sheds' but a feeble light; ' Our. Union and. our'.freedom scathed. By. sins'dark withering blight; ’. More fearful than the lightning’s, flash* .Or the deep thunders roll. Our sorrows and our miseries, .- • • Aro spread from, polo to polo. *• Ob, God! this, fearful curse remove, Our national sins arrest; • 46 tturn toes tb.-friondsj turn hate to lovo, And lighten each'Sad breast. And make us know' that thou art God > Thy.band alono can atity . • sho raging storiu; tho bitter strife, ’ That’* banging, o’er oyr way* ’ « ' * *- 1 vVV ■ ' country/my dear native land* ‘ I plead to God Tor theo, ' . ‘ .. To-mako-thoso Slatoo. a V THE LOVER’S OFFER. TIUNSIiATfiD FRO3I THE PERSIAN. Wore minc’tbo wealth of Croesus.old; , Had I os many diamonds bright As loaves that shako in summer's light. Or sands o’er which tho deep batb’rolict^; Had las many-purest pearls , As grass-blados hang upon tho lea, Or ripples ddneo along tho sea , When o’er its breast the zephyr curls jr-? Had I a palace, crystal built, And filled as full of golden,bars As yonder heaven is filled ivith stars When evening fair the skie's hath gilti-p- .Like lordly knights and kingly oarla With orders were I titled o’er • , As thick as waves that kiss the shore When wind his banner broad j— X swear by yon bright worlds above* I’d givo thoiri all this blessed night To' moot beneath, this fair moonlight, - And clasp thoo in my arms, my Lovo ! MBullmmm. MY WIFE’S SEC 11E T BY - MARY KYLE DALLAS. Jay, overturned upon the carpet, and that the door which opened into the adjoining parlor Stood a little ajar. • , “No one here?’' I asked, won.deringly, and she answered—i . “No one hut you and 1.” , As she spoke,. 1 heard the eater door ahu,t, and saw.a red glow spring out upon her. cheek. Wo both started, and stood apart, for a moment, and then I stepped towards the d,oor. As I did so, I saw by tire restless flut tering of her hand, and the quick turning of her head; that she wished to„stop me, and re-, ■strained herself. • I went to the outer door and opened it,- Upon, th.o white marble porch ware the marks of and. those of another; mine ascended, the others decended ; mine Wore wet tracks from thy. muddy streets—the others were dry impressions, which had made their marks only by wiping out mine. When I wenfbaok, she sat beside the fire,, placid and smiling, with no trace of the blush which had frightened me upon her cheek. I sat down opposite her, and brooded over the ■Agxes. “OUR COUNTRY—MAY IT ALWAYS BE RIGHT—BUT, RIGHT OR WRONG, OUR COUNTRY.” so that no, one might enter—l learnt how Cain had felt—l learnt what thoughts torture the hearts of devils. I entered, in my living body, their dwelling-place, and understood why souls are lost, Revenge, rage, murdot) took pos session of me. I found myself muttering fear ful things, and making bedlamite utterings unconsciously. I gnawed my lips until they bled, and drove the nails of my clenched fin gers.into my hands without feeling the pain. My passions master my body—the inquisi tor's tortures-could not have wrung one groan from me. . • After a while X sought my pistols, lyipg within a. secret drawer of the bonk-oaso. f cleaned them, loaded them, and hid them in my bosom, and then unlocked the door, for she was knocking at it and calling to me play fully. How sett and young and fair she look eias wo went down stairs together ! How hard and old and dark my face had grown 1 She was like some smiling angel; I like a brooding demon, with my scowling brow arid grini mouth. There was a mirrbr in the cor ridor, and I saw both of us as wo. passed it. .Wednesday night—Wednesday night-rr-.with those pistols in my bosom, I waited for its coming and for the' horrible revelation, of my wife’s secret. I had read .stories of jealous husbands who bad wrongfully suspected innocent wives, be cause of tho stolen visits of brothers, . or.of fathers, who had,committed crimes, and were in hiding.. My wife.had brothers.and a fath er. I know them all well. No stealthy. vis- v - its would come from thorn. They were hon est country , people, who would walk in stur dily on heavy boots—Johns,; and Richards, ahd'Vyilliams,, who were drovers or farmers; and fcftd yell ,§lled pocket books, and were npt ashamed of themselves. 'No such a ,ro could bo woven oyer them. This he was of a different kind, I was watching for bint. Wednesday night came—a clear, bright evening, with a frosty sky full of. glittering stars. \ went out at dusk, and canie in softly again in a few moments to; hide in ‘a great pantrf in the old-fashioned hall.. .The clock struck* seven,as I entered: I counted' the strokes. Hours and hovers behind then* before that'clock struck eight, At last tho hour came round, and on tho very stroke the bell rang, not loudly, but with a light,secret sort of sound. Tho servant opened the door and a man came in. No word was exchanged. Ho passed straight into my wife's parlor, and the door was dosed behind him. I heard the tones of her voice, and then-m .nothing.,. I put my. hand upon the pistols in my bo som, and strode from my concealment. The next moment I. was in tho parlor; saw through tho door which opened into tho adjoining room a light gleaming and a shadow dung.by it up-i on the wall—tho. shadow of an oriental face and a head of massive curia and ringlets.— 7 Then, in an instant, my wife ran forward to meet me, coming but of tho light of the inner room into the darkness of-tho parlor. “Stop, Reginald 1 Don’t go in,” she said, putting her hand upo-i my arm. “I want to explain. ' I—there is some one thor^.” ' “I know it .1” I khoutad. * “Lot mo pass!” My hand clutched the weapon in my bosom, and I strove to put her away, but she clung to mo the closer. “Stop !” she said. “Bo not look so angry: I only do as others do ; Mrs, Rawloy says it's very customary.” ' . I paused aghast. Was this hardened wo man truly my wife ? ' , “There is a dear,” she went on. “After all, it is not much—only my blue silk an,d white crape shall. Mother would say it was extravagant, I know,' but nobody wears white crape any more, a,nc\ the sill; is very old.-fqsh ioned.” . AVaa ahe trying to delude mo ?■ I flung her from mo and clashed into the, inner room.— On, his knees in the centre of the apartment was a man., At my entrance he started up, and I looked upon his face. A dark counte nance; with an oriental profile, piles of black curls upon the temples and amnustaeho upon the.upper lip. Tho shadow 1 had soon upon the curtain 1 “Who are you ?” I shouted. “Tell me yom name 1” .The villain trembled; bis teeth chat tered in his head. Ho seemed to have losl his voice, but he drew a card from his bosom and extendod-it towards me. 1 snatched it and read : “John Smith pays tho highest price for ladies’ and gentlemen's castoff-clothing.; Sixty dollars for. coats, eighty lor dresses, and the highest rates fo£ all articles. Ladies at tended by Mr. Smith, Junior.’-’ I saw it all. My wife had been soiling her. old silk dresses. My shadow was an old ciothosman.—JV. lj Sunday Times. EjiHALMing the Dead. —A Washington correspondent gives tho following account of the . process of embalming adopted there : Tim body is placed on an inclined platform, the month, ears, nose, &0., are stopped with cotton ; if wounded, cotton is put in the wound and a plaster is put on ; an incision is made la tho wrist, the attachment is made from an air pump, and-fluid injected through out tho arteries. Tho wound is then sowed up and .the body is hoisted up to dry. To save tha eyes from sinking, in, was is put un der the eyelids. The hair I found to come out very-easily, but after tho embalming it could not bo removed; Tho bodies take, on an average, about seven quarts, but General Lander’s took seventeen quarts. There were some eight bodies on hand ; some had been there thirty days. The operators say in four months the body will become solidified like marble, but ho chance lias yet boon had to prove' it. Colonel Baker’s body on arrival at San Francisco was in an advanced statu of decomposition. A Thoughtful Wife. —A friend says lie has a dear, loving little wife, and nn excel lent housekeeper. On her birthday she moved her low rocking chair close to his side. He was reading. She placed her dear little hand lovingly on his arm, and moved it along softly towards hiscont collar. Ho felt nice nil over. lie certainly expected a kiss. Dear, sweet, loving creature !—angel 1 She rpoved her hand up and down the coat sleeve. “ Husband,” said she. “ What, my dear 1” “ I way just thinking—” “ Were you,|my love ?” “ I was just thinking how nicely this suit of olothosyou have on would work into a rag carpet.” lie says ho felt cross all day, the disappointment was so groat. A young fellow of our acquaintance, whose, better half had just presented him with a pair of bouncing twins, attended Rev. Mr. -—'s church on Inst Sunday evening. During the discourse tho clergyman looking right at our innocent friend, said, in a tone of thrilling eloquence: “Young man, you have nn important responsibility thrust upon yon.”- The now-flodged dah-dah, supposing that tha prenoher alluded to his peculiar home event considerably startled the audience, by replying; “.Yes, sir, I have two of thorn.” CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, APRIL $4, 186*. 110VY MEN HA\E RISEN, Men great in science, literature and art apostles of great thoughts and lords of the groat heart—have sprung, indiscriminately from the English farm and tho Scotch hill side, from the great workshop and the mines, from the blacksmith’s stithy_and tho cobbler’s stool. The illustr’asions which present them selves aro indeed so numerous, that tho diffi culty consists in making a selection from them, sUoh as should fall within the compass of .a reasonable hook. Take',' for instance, the. remarkable fact, that from the barber’s shop, rose Sir Richard Arkwright, the inven tor of tho spinning-jenny,, and the founder of tho cotton manufactures of Great Britain; Lord Tendefden, one of the most distinguish ed of English Lord Chief Justices ; and Tur ner, the very greatest amojig-iarjdscapa pain ters, ' f-;'.' No one knows to a certainty what Shakc pearo was ; but i-t is unquestionable that ho sprung, from ;a : very humble rank. His fath er was a butcher and a glazidr-; and Shake- ‘ pearo himself is supposed W have been in early life a wooleomber; whiSt others aver that ho was an usher in a school, and after wards a scrivener’s clerk. He'truly seems to havo been “ not one, but all mankind’s epito me.’- 1 For such is the accuracy of his phrases that a naval vyyiter alleges that, ho must have been, a. sailor, i whilst a clergyman inlors from ,Sternal evidence-in hi£ writings, that he was probably a parson’s clerk; and a dis tinguished judge of horso-fles»insists that lie must have been a horsc-dodffir. Shakspoare was certainly an aptor, and.'m the course of his life “ played many parts,-# gathering his wonderful stores of knowledge from a wide field of experience and observation. In any event-bo must have boon a close student arid a hard worker ; and to this day bis writings, continue to exordise a powerfdl influence up on the formation of English character. The common class of day , laborers have given us Brindley, the engineer, Cook, the navigator, and Burns the Poet,. -Masons and bricklayers can boast of Bon; Johnson, who worked.at the building of Lincoln’s Inn, with a trowel in bis band, and a book.in his pock et. Edwards and Telford . the engineers, Hugh Miller the geologist, arid Allen Cun ningham the writer and sculptor; .whilst among distinguished carpenters wo find the names of Inigo Jones the architect,.Harrison the chronometer maker, John Hunter- the physiologist, Iloriinoy and Opie the painters, Professor Leo the orientalist, and John (Jib son the sculptor. . From the weaver class have sprung Simp son the mathematician, Bacou the sculptor, the two MilnerS. Adam Walker, John Foster. Wilson the ornithologist, Dr. Livingston the missionary traveller, and Taririahill the poet. Shoemakers have given us Sip Cloudesly Sho vel,.-the- great admiral, Sturgeon tho elec trician, Samuel Drew tho - essayist, Gifford the,'.editor ol the Quarterly Jleview, Bloom field the poet; and William flarey the mis sionary ; -whilst Morrison,.nuOtber laborious missionary, was it maker of jsVnieldsta.' With in the last year, a, ,nr<ffqt\ Id. naturalist-, has' been discovered in the person-cjli shoemak er at Banff, named Thomas Edwards," who, while maintaining himself hv hia trade, has devoted his leisure to the study of natural science in all its branches, his researches in connection with the similftr onistacote having cheer; rewarded by the discovery of a ne w species; to which the name of “ Parniza Ed-i wards!!;’ has boon given by naturalists. I Nor have the tailors been altogether un distinguished, Jackson the painter having worked at the trade until he reached manhood. But, what is perhaps more remarkable, one of t hogall«ntastof the British seamen, Admi ral Hobson, who broke, tho boom of the Vigo, in 1702, originally belonged to this calling. Ho was-working as a tailor’s apprentice near Bonchurch, iu the Isle of Wight, when the news flew through the village that a squad ron of men-of-war wore sailing off tho [aland, lie sprang from the shop-hoard, and ran down with bis comrades to the beach, to gaze upon tho glorious sight. Tho tailor boy was sud denly inflamed with the ambition to be a sai lor, and springing into a boat, he rowed off to the squadron, gained the Admiral’s ship, and was accepted as a volunteer. , Years after, ho returned to his. native village full of honors, and dined off bacon and eggs iu the.cottage Where, ho had worked as a tailor’s appren tice, Cardinal Wolsey, De Fob, Akenside and Kirk White, wore the sons of butchers ; Ban yan was a tinker,.and Joeeph Lancaster a basket-maker, . j\m«ng the great names iden tified with the invention.of the steam engine, are those of Newcomer, Wattand Steplflmson ; the first a blae.ksm.ith, the second a ranker of mathematical instruments ; a>jd the third an engine-fireman. Huntingdon, the preacher was originally a coal heaver, at\d Biowick, the father of Wood engraving a coal minor. Roda ley was a footman, and Ifoloroft a groom. Balliu the'navigntor began his soafaringafareer as a man before the m,aet, and Sir Cloudesloy Shovel aa a cabin boy. llorsohol played the oboe in a military band. Ciiantroy was a jour neyman carver, Rtty a journeyman printer, and Sir Thomas Lawrence a sou of a tavern keeper. Jtichaol Farraday, the son of a poor blacksmith, was in early life apprenticed toa bookbinder, and worked at his-trade until ho reached his twenty-second year ; lie now oc cupies the very first rank us a philosopher, excelling even his master, Sir Humphrey Davy, in the art of lucidly expounding the most and abstruse points in natural science, JSJot long ago', Sir Roderick Murchison dis covered ut Thurso, in the far north of Scot land, n profound geologist, in the person of a baker thwe, named Robert Rick., When Sir Roderick called upon him at the bakehouse in which ho baked and earned bis broad, Robert Dick dolinieatod to him by means of flour upon a board, the geographical features and geological phenomena of his native coun try, pointing out the imperfections in tho ex isting maps, which ho had ascertained by travelling over tho country in his leisure hours'. o,n further inquiry, Sir Roderick as certained that tho humble individual before hint was not only a capital baker and geolo gist, hut a first-rato botanist. “ I found,” said tho Pjreotor-Qonoral of the Geographical Society, “ to my great humiliation, that this baker knew infinitely more botanical science, aye ton times more than I did,,and that there wore only some twenty to thirty specimens of flowers which ho had not collected. Somo ho had obtained as presents, somo ho bad pur chased, but tho greater portion had been ac cumulated by his indi\stry, m bis native country of Caithness;, and the spooimons were all arranged in tho mostboautnul order, with their scientific names nllixod.^ It is tho glory of our country that snob men as fhoso should so abound ; not all equally distinguished, it is true but actuated alike by the noble spirit of self help. ; Lhoy furnish proofs of cheerful, honest working, and ener getic effort to make tho m,ost of small moans and common opportunities. For oppqrtum tics (is ffo shall afterwards find, full in tb© way ofeyory man who is resolved to take ad,- vantage of them. Tho facta of nature* are open the peasant and mechanic, ns well ns to the philosopher, and by nature they aro ca pable of making a inoral, use .of'those facts to the best of their power. Thus, even in the lowest calling, the worker may win tho very loftiest results. TUB FARMER IS,KING. “ Cotton, is king," said n Senator. “Nay,’* said another, “Gold is King.” Nay, say we, the Farmer is King!, A monarch is prepared tor his throne by careful education. But who is nurtured with such an education as a far mer? He-is nursed dn the strong embrace of prolific, many handed Nature. Our mother Nature keeps the wisest school, Great Nature —rude, yet gentle ; stern yet kindly ; terri ble, yet loving ; frugal, yet bountiful. Wo almost believe that no men can be God's gregt men, unless nurtured in the strong, embrace of our great mother on the bosom of the earth. All men should, some , time in their lives, live in the midst, pf Nattire and till th,e soil, lie who has been born and feared and who lives in a city, debarred the privilege of com muning with Nature, is most unfortunate.— He can never he a whole man. He lacks the stern poetic teachings of this great school.— Nothing can compensate for it; “An unde vout astronomer, is mad!’’ exclaihjed a wise man. An undevout farmer is, si nioristof !we exclaim. What! can the husbandman re ceive his food direct from heaven—its rains, and dews, and sunshine; it smjlos over him in the blue and, spangled vau.lt,,sun and moon and, star lit; all around hinj. in the wavy grass and grain, the. many-tinted flowers; in the voices of the-wind and the bonding trees; un derneath him, in profile, fresh turned Soil arid still be a monster,'out of tune with outer and inner Nature ? Who. lives so far from temptation? Ayiio . lives so nigh his Creator enwrapped all about it with his arms— Cod from liia dazzling munificent hand. Ho sleeps between,', the leaves' of God’s picture Unlyersp. •“Ho loved,husbandry," is tho encomium that inspiration pays to one of the best Kings of Israel, and who. had one of the longest and most prosperous reigns. “Uzzah, the King,” says the sacred writer, “digged many wells, for ho had much cattle:; husbandmen also, and yinevdressors in the mountains, and Carr meal, for he loved husbandry.” If this could have been sgid of his successor, the Jews had no.t parted ftnd scattered, as at this day, among the nations. As long as it can bo said of the„ sovereigns of those States.,“they loved hus bandry, ’ the Republic is safe. Small farms grow true-patriots. The wealth of tho Re public must be a. conimoa wealth. It is the nature of power to seek to increase itself.— When monarchs increase in power, it is in bold words the growth of tyrany. .Not so tho King Farmer. Ilia tyranny, is over barren ness. Ho smiles, and lo 1 the- sterile earth . groans; but it 18 with.abundance, lie brings his,enemies.to tho fagot and the stake; but] they are thistle, tho daisy and: tho briar. Ho overruns and subdues the territories of bits foes,'but they are tbo swamp and the quag mire. He plows up the very foundation of the.strongholds oflus destroyers j'bufthby are deadly malaria, the stinging insect, and the fangod and poisonous reptile. The earth is I his slave; but it is the slavery of love, for it buds and blossoms before him, and the trees ( clap their hands for joy: for him. lie chains his servants to do his.will; but they are the elements, the huge and willing, ox, and the , majestic librso, impatient to do his bidding, [ and champing for the word that bids him, go. I When the monarch Farmer raises himself on high and stretches his sceptre abroad, cit ies spring up under its shadow. The sound of the spindle, the loom, the anvil, and the ponderous foundry and mill are hoard. The hum of the industrious multitudes coming up like voice of many waters ; whito-.winged ships fly over the unstable • main ; men cast aside their, hides and tig leaves and are elothed in imperial garments, and women are arrayed in fabricks as flue as gossamer and many tinted as the.sunset cloud. Penury, pestilence and , famine ho keeps bound in his prison house. Labor stands in the floor of his magazines, and in his stalwart hand ho holds the scales of human life, and weighs out the supplies o, trade and art, and artists and armies; of school and church and stale ; food and rai ment, abundance And luxury. lie deals opt the progress of human kind.' The farmer is King —the Monarch of men. FT* Jones went to’ serenade his lady-love, and could only'sing af;er this fashion : “ Cub, oh, cub with-me, - The hloou is ho/uiin ; . Cub, oh, cub with mo, ■ The Stars aro gleobin, And all around above With*bertUty*tcabiug ; Boodligbt hours aro best for !üb.” Jones fell that ho was an unfortunate be ing, when a small boy opposite where ho was singing cried out “ Blow your dose, you dab fool.” Influence of Song.—Most of us have ex perienced the luxury of tears when listening to an old man -who, having led a long career of vice and crime, was at length banished from the country ;■ and who, while undergoing his period of banishment amidst the wilds and jungles of a distant land, hoard in the sum mer oven tide, a. sweet voice, singing in his own language the very song which had lulled him to his infant slumber, when ho knew crime, only, by name, and know it only to ab hor,, ft had been sung, too, by the cradle of an infant sister, one who had died young and is now- in heaven ; the. mother, too, WM no more, But the song—the old song, had not lost its influence over him yot. Baok cnmo troop ing upon him tho old memories which had so long slumbered down thoro in the uuconsum od depths of tho heart; tho mother and tho father ; tho household gathering ; old hooks ; tho old school house ; the time-worn church, half-hidden by the ohlyowtrees,wlio ero ho had first hoard the hiblo road, all came back on hin> as frosh as it it woro yesterday ; and overpowered by his feelings, he gave vent to, them ip a flood of tears. And then tho old man grow calm, and bis latter days woroh i s best days ; and when tho term of his punish ment bad expired he came back to his father land, and there in that old village grave yard, amid whoso grassy hillocks ho bad played and gamboled, and where tho mother and her little ones were sleeping, to lay down h's weary limbs, and sunk peaceably away into a common grave, Good Fisk. —ln eases whore gold fish are kept in vessels in rooms, &c., they should be kept in spring water. The water will re quire to bo changed, according to the size of the vessel or tho number of fish kept therein, but it is not woll to obango tho water too of ten. A vessel that will hold a common sized pail of water two fish may be kept in by changing the-water onoo a fortnight, and so on in proportion. If any food is supplied them, it should bo a few crumbs of bread dropped in, the water once or twice a week. A Chapter bn Corns. Hear how the inimitable Jones, of the Harrisburg Patriot, pathetically disooursoth on corns. Ho has had tho affliction himself,, and therefore “ speaks by tho hook Who hath sorrow ?-—who hath woe 1- —who hath pains without stint ?—who ambleth in his gait like a spavined'army horse? I,le that hath corns on the approach of a. storm ! Was there over anything .more annoying than, a corn, not a spiritual corn, but one of those pestiferous follows abou.t the .size of ft dime on a toe-joint ? If corns had been inclu ded ip the ills sent, upon the children of Is rael-, our opinion . is, that their sufferings would have been intolerable. ; . Corns ftro a modern, institution.,, Of course they date back, farther than our memory runs, but'wo. do not read of Moses pr David, or any of the patriarchs walking as if they wore tramping on eggs to avoid, the full pressure of leather on a gay bid corn the size of a hicko-. ry nut; still wo remember the time well when corns were not as plenty as they are now —when they were ascribed to tight boots, and were deemed a fitting punishment to pride by the straight-laced. But all those old theo ries are exploded, since it is found that wheth er men wear loose dr tight boots, it is all'the same, and corns are frightfully on the in crease. . A night or two ago wo stood upon the pave ment listening to an itinerant vendor of corn salvo. An old chap on the left foot, that wo, pared down little less than a hundred times, felt as if a. hot darning needle was run into him. The .vendor was eloquent, and,.with a pair of highly inflated lungs ho spoke of , the virtue of his medicine in eradicating ohms in such a manner that thrice wo throttled a stray quarter in our vest pocket to go in,' but thrice we let it drop again, as the thought came upon us how often wo. had our eye shut up by, corn doctors and. vendors of .corn .salve: We Ivavo tried all the," known, and. some of the unknown remedies, and up to this time we have found no permanent cure for a corn. Wo have road “ Durlochcr oh Corns,”'nnd de rived no other "knowledge from it than the fact, that the euynpnt, writer himself must in his time, have, had corns, so accurately does ho describe the active pains of “ har’d corns,” ” soft corns” and bunions.” Tempera ry relief may bd had by some remedies, t,he most popular of which'is frequently boohing the foot and’paring the thick cuticle un.til the little black spot appears where the soat of. pain evidently lies,, but as for curing them— talk to us of bailing the Mississippi with a gourd, nr bring down elephants with pop guns I—but oh 1 talk,to us no more of a cure fin- corn I —it is' not in the books—apd .the discoverer thereof has not yet, Iliads, his de but upon this mundane sphere. USEFUL RECEfPTS. Frozen Costard— Slice a Vanilla bean I d boil It slowly in half a-plnt of milk,’till all the. strength; is extracted and. the milk highly flavored with tho Vanilla, then strain it and set it aside.. Mix a quart of orcani and a pin t of nulkor-.if you cannot procore cream, take.-thr.ee (3) pints of rich milk, and put them, in.to a skillet oy. squoe. pan; sot it on hot coals and boil it, ' When it has comp to a boil, mix a tabje-spooriful of flour in three (3) table-spoonfuls of milk and stir it into the boiling,; Afterwards add two (2) eggs, which hgvo. been beaten lip with two (2) ta ble:epoonsfp.ls of milk, pouring them slowly iqta the mixture. Take care to stir it all the. time it is,boiling. Ijlive minutes after, stir in gradually half a, pound of powdered loaf su gar, and then the decoction of Vanilla.— Having stirred it bard (i few moments, take it.off tli.o fire, and sot it to cool. \Vhon quite cold put it into a mould and freeze it, as you would ige.-crcam, for which it- frequently passes. You may flavor it with a tea-spoonful of strong oil of lemon, stirred in just before you take it from the fire, or with n quarter of a pou,nii of ah,oiled bitter almonds, blanched, popnded in a mortar with a little water, imd thou boiled in 'll the flavor, is extradi Icb-Ciieaw —.1 bciin, and boil i flavor-ia well e; two (2j table-spoonfuls of arrow-root powder, or the. same quantity of fine powdered starch, with just sulfieient cold milk to make it u thin paste.; ruhbjng it till quite smooth.— Boil together- q pint of crcnm nnd a pint of rich milk, and while boiling stir in the prep aration of arrow-root and the milk in which the Vanilla has bpe ll 'boiled. When it has boiled hard, jakq jn adinlf pound of powdered {oaf sugar, and hj-t it come to a Then strain it,' p.u,fe it in,to a freezer, placed in a tub that has a hole in the bottom to, let opt the water, nnd surround it, on all sides, with ice, broken line, and mix’od with coarse salt; turning the freezer continu-- ally for twenty minutes, then let it rest; oc-. oasionally taking off the coyer and scraping down with, a long spoon the cream that slicks to the sides. When it is well froacn transfer it to a mould, surround it with fresh salt and ice, and then freeze it over again. If you wish to flavor it with lemon of Vanilla, take a largo lump of sugar, be fore you powder it, and rub it on the outside' of a largo lemon till all the yellow is rubbed off upon the sugar ; then when the sugar is all powdered mix with it the juice. For strawberry ice-cream, mix witli the powdered sugar the juice of a quart of ripe strawber- rios squeezed through a linen bag. Pbtze Coax Bread Receipe. —The prize of SlO offered by Orange Judd, the publisher of the. American Agriculturist, for the enrn bread loaf, was awarded to Mr,- James O'Brien, of Garrick, Pa. The reeoipo for making the bread is as follows: —To two quarts op meal add one pint of bread sponge; water snfiieiont to wet the whole ; add half a pint ofllour and a tablespnonful of salt; let it rise; then knead well for the second time, and place the dou; h in the oven, and allow it to bake an hour ai d a half. flow ns Staijted Them. —A preacher whoso hearers were in the habit of going to sleep over his preaching, bought a tin whistle, and on- Sunday, when he saw a goodly number un der the spmnolesoant influence, ho drew forth his whistle and sounded a shriek. In ah in stant the whole congregation was wide awake, and upon their foot, staring at the minister, at one another, and wondering what in the name of human nature was to come next. “ You’re a sot of smart specimens of hu manity, ain’t you ?” said the divine whistler, as ho slowly gazed around on the highly as tonished assembly. “ When I preach the gospel to you yoi\ all go to sleep ; but the mo ment I go to playing the devil you’re, all wide awake, up and Rooming, like a rush of hor nets with a polo in their nest.” It la very curious,” said an old gentle man to his friend, “that a watch should bo perfectly dry when it has it running spring inside.” (Db&.nnb <Wj& Bgy* When society casts off the restraint* of law, all tiling* form, uniform deformity, BC7* He wha says, he can. neither stand nor move probably liea if ho tells the> truth,, ITT” Ggatitudo is the music of the heart when its chords arc swept by kindness. By* AH that some young womoa need to inflame their hearts is. a spark. O” Why is p palm-treolikp chronology? Because it furnishes dates. Why is a blush like a little girl ? Be cause it becomes a woman. K - It is said that the seat of war on tha Potomac is worn threadbare. geological character on which drunkards split arc said to ho quartz. 0f7”“ What’s in a dress? ” asks a popular, writer. That depends on who the wearer is. \CT A cotemporary says, “ a fetpale recruit in Rochester- was detected by trying topnt her pants on over her head,” C 7 ?. “Xipt the. toast he, dear woman,” ns the hoarder said when his landlady was about to,remove, the plate., . IE?" Same slanderous old bachelor says it is much joy ”. when you first got married, bpt it is moiojawy after a year or so, Df7” The soldier’s great risk is that of be coming extinguished before he can beep,mi}, distinguished. •' ’• • ’ [CT’An editor out West says if “• time is money,” ho is willing to exchange a little Of his for the hard-, ■ of7*i It, is said that some mothers nie,grown so affectionate that they givo tbpir children chloroform previous to. whipping-them. O* To make a, girl-love-you, coax her to love somebody else. If there be. anything a, wopmn .relishes, it is to bo contrary. DC?* No matter how dull trada.Bjay he in Other cities, N.ew, Bedford always.does a wha ling business. 017” A cotemporary has been studyingpho-. nofyphy. Here is a specimen—t“ Wat kantj b q rd must b- hdured. OCT” Tears at a wedding are-only the coma meucement of the pickle, that the young folks are getting into. (CT" We are-never satisfied that a lady-un derstands a kiss unless w,e have it from, her own mouth.' O* A lazy fellow lying.down on, the, grass, said, “ Oh, how I wish, this, was called, work*, and well paid for.” 017” “Well, Jom.whaVis a commentator? ” “Why, I suppose it is the commonest of all talers.” ET* The liDuVsviUe Journal says that the, discharge of ouf duty at the present time in . yolyea. th,e d?soharge-of canppn. , ai-nja. CIF'A partof the mountain, of aorronr. which an inebriate had heaped upon lys own, head, lately slid off, and broke down bhp, bridge of his nose, fl@“ “ Oft in the stilly night, ’’ pathetically snug Julius, ns ho carefully deposited in his capacious pockets several of the feathery tribo of a neighboring barn yard.. File right,” said,- an, officer to. h,ia company, “Bedad,” said: an Irishman, whp, stood near by, nhorpening bis say, “it’s njy. own property, and i’ll, bedoin’ as, I phjspwfth B&T It requires little. acquaintance with, the heart, to know that woniah’B first wish, is, ti) lie handsome, and that,. tho. readiest method of ol'huning her kindness ia, to praise. hor beauty.. [E 5 * A pretty girl was, lately complaining to a Quaker friend that she had a cold, 1 arid was sorely plagued in her lips by “friend;” said O.hodiah, “ thee should nevei;. let the chn.ps oomo near thy Ups." . , “ Pray, Miss C.,” said a gentleman, tho other evening, “ why are ladies so fond of officers ?■” “How stupid,’'' she replied ; “is it not natural that a lady should-like, a good offer, sir i" ' , ' ’ unilln, .ilVttra~ Mix t!®" - Some country editor gets off tha fol-, lowing: “The Battle of Life—Courtship is tho engagement; the proposal is the assault t and matrimony tho' victory." Then, we con clude that a treaty of peace is made on tha appearance of Envoy Extraordinary,. JSSf- Sidney Sinith was once, .examining, flowers in the garden, when a beautiful girl, who \va,s ope or the party, exclaimed:, “Oil, Mr. Smith, this pea will neyof crime to per-, lection t" “Permit nio, then,”’ said be K gently taking her liand, and walking toward the plant, “ to lea.d perfection, to, fl^appa,!".. B®' A man who cheats in. short is a measureless rogue. If in whisky, ho ia a rogue in spirit., ff he gives q, bad title to, land, then he-iaa, rogue in deed.' If he gives short measure in wheat, then he is a rogue in, grain. And if ho cheats when he cap, he is in deed, in spirit, in grain, a measureless rogue, J6ay- A wicked wng of a lawyer, ip one 6 {■ our county courts, lately scandalized .the bench, by putting the following query to his professional brethren : ‘.‘ Why is Judge , like necessity The members of the bar, then and there present, quickly answered, “ Because he knows no law." V ‘ A pious minister, after lecturing a ragged Sunday School class in a most edify ing manner, proposed to close the exorcises, by singing “ Jordan,” meaning thohymn, “On Jordan’s stormy banks I stand.” Tho worthy man was horrified by bearing tho whole school strike up, “ Jordan am a. hard road to travel, I believe,”. . ■ ■" . , jgy* The customers of a certain cooper in a town out AVest, caused him a vast deal of vexation by their saving habits and persists once in getting nil their tuba and casks re paired, buying but litllo work. “ I stood it long enough, however,” said he, “until one day old Sam Crabtree brought in an old bungholo, to which ho said he wanted a new barrel made.' Then I quit tho busi ness in disgust.” BSy Recently we came up with two hoys —one carried an apple in his hand, and the other was using, all his eloquence to obtain just one bite of, it. “ AYell,” said tho young-, or one, finally, “ I’ll give you jes one bite.”' Tho larger one took the apple. opened a mouth that would have boon creditable to a hundred and fifty pound catfish, and brought it down on (ho fruit, leavinsr a very small share on tho outside. “ Jim,” said (he lUtla one, looking at tho operation with astonish ment, “ you take tha apple and .give uie.tbf) bite.” NO. 46»
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers