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0
FOLVEL WRIGHT, Editor and, Proprietor.
VOLUME XXXIV, NUMBER 41.1
PUBLISHED FURY SATURDAY ?MIMING
Office in Carpet Hal, North-west corner of
Front and Locust streets. •
Tems of Subsciption.
Owe Copype rannpaa,i fpaidin advance, fl SO
4. 4 4 4 " r not paid withinthree
onontherromcommencementortheyear. 2 00,
•
, C.2)XLI. fig A% Copp.
NO4 absemption reeetvetitora less time than am
nonthe; and no paperwill be discontinued unlit all
rrearagomtkepatd,att,essat the option° f the pub
her...A , •
iDralo,,neXtnaStveollttedbetnail atthepublish-
IC'S ,„ - •
Bates of Advetising.
guar (Pt ines3oneweek ,
.‘ three weeks, *0 39
75
' eaehiubsequenthiseition, 10
(Mines Jonewaek 50
. Ulric ureeks, , , 1 00
enclptubsequeniinsertion. 25
b a rgeradvertisement,in proportion
Al iberal liscou n twi I lbe made to quarterly, halt
nr .is et tear/ytdvertisersobao are striellyconfined
•thetr business.
H M. ,NORTII,
ATTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR, AT L?W-
Cl
Columbia,Pa . •
Collections .r. romptlymade TIL ancasterand Von
Ntunties.
Columbia, May 4,1850.
H. B. ESSICK,
ATTORNEY In COUNSELOR AT LAW.
COLUMBIA. PA
Cleats, Watches, Jwely, Silver
.and.Silver-Plated Ware ..
SHREINER & SPERING,
IaITAVING taken the old ennblished -land ofJohu
11 I.elix, Frolllmreet, Columbia. respectfully invite
the public to call and examine their large as,ortineut
of
CLOCKS, WATCHES, JEWELRY,
SILVER and SILVER-PLATED WARE,
CUTLERY, COMBS, PISTOLS,
ACCORDEONS, and FANCY ARTICLES,
tuck as are usually kept in a first-class Jewelry store.
We will-keep constantly on hand a large stock of ,
AL.M.adriclawk. Wixtcs3llBl9,
In Gold and Silver Casev—Appleton, Tracy & Co , P
S. Bartlett and Wm Ellery movements—which we
will offer to the public ur prices to suit the times.
A continuance of the former patronage is respect
full
.11 1 AlEl
iled. NG OP ALL KINDS TRONIrTLE ATTENDED TO
UOIOMbill;July,10, 1162.
NOW FOR BARGAINS.
'ME have just teceived another lot of all-wool De
ll' Wines tied plaid Alosualltiques. which we otter al
reduced prices. :TRACY n HOWERs,
Cola. June 23, 102 Car. thl and Locust Sts.
poo CREAM OF GLYCERINE.--For the cur(
uud prCVCOIIOII to rhnpp,•d hand, &c. pot
la t he /LIVEN NIMIT A It DR Uti S•l'r lH.l;,
Orr 3,lFsft 1•ron I :4 reel. Co
SALT! SALT!
JUST reerived -uti.rriber, iltor store
Lot u-I stove! 4centid.
100 Rags Ground Alum Salt,
h nilt • t 4 mat Lel prireq.
C Jul) , .1 Rll I'Lli r. $U NI
,or,.Bood's - .BORIOII "Crackers, for
Dycpepti, , andAtrOW Root Ci:arket, HI/ 111
31111.1 rh11(111 . 11—liew articles in Columbia, mu
tle I 'slimly Medicine Store,
4141110.-ISW. - •
iLk•
Hrriso n's o nmbi an
LtrifiC 11 is a -uperior utheie, perrTetheodh. hinek.
wl :1114 cOrraeling the pen. 1.111 he had at ant
...eddy. ul the rachily 'Alediri4eSiore, add blacker
I,1(. that Engli,do 13ou1 Polish.
vaaeahia. Ana.. 11. IySA
rlsrz! FISECI
11 fiEltl.l. UK, harml. halt barrel and quarter
of he be:t qualitte,
tpply to B. I , A Pl'01.1),
Co umbra, Jul) 19. In' 2 Canal
WALL -PAZEI2.!
PAPER CLIEAPE,R THAN WHETEWASII
0 ,1 u lurge. lo; of %Val Paper
lu and wou.l.
ot C. 10-Oil the tune. ,
121.1 - L01: & AZ,II.
11u 0 I, 110111 Si., above Lot 11-q.COILILIIIII/01.
NOTICE.
-1 , le-ire to settle up the old book accounts, of both
.tares and request all per-on 4 keine:tog them
ecs indebted to please call and ..elite the slime.
u. C. FON DEM: Maki . .
Colrmbia, May 17, 1801.
SPALDING'S PREPARED GLUE.--The want o
such un aroele as fell in carry (amity. and now
•t eats be supplied; for mending ibiniture, china•
ware ornamental work, toys. dcc., /here is nolhing
..upernir. %Ve have found it 'ireful in repairing many
hrilele. , which have been useless for months. Yo
Jan awn at at the
ta.oustA • Flll LY AIIoDtOITIF. STORE
POCKET BOOKS AND PURSES.
A LARGE lot of Fine and Common Pocket Hooka
Ll and Purses, at from 15 cents to two dollars each
He idquarters and News Depot.
34114.1 'RA
Columbia
Lawns, Lawns, Lawns.
TA DI t.:"S odd hee our beautiful 121 cent Lawns,
L. 4 (.1.1 t tilers, at :TRACY & IJOVVFIR.6,
June 2n. 16112 Opposiie Odd Fellow , ' Hall.
110104 3{1114:411i41
tiblAY and splendid style of Hooped Skirts, Ju•l
L received; Also, a full issortment of oilier styles,
Very c he a p MALTBY & CASK,
Columbia, Apr.l 26,1862. Locust Street.
FOR SALE,
,
1500 Sack s G.A. Salt, 100 Sark. Ashton Salt Ap
ply at , APPOLD'S
Warehouse, Canal Basin.
Columbia, Dec. 29, 1961.
RAISINS.
AFULL supply of Raisinse-Sredlegs and Loyer—
will be round at the Cor. of Front and Union i ts.
Nov. 22. HENRY SU YDA NI.
I , l.}=} , : 4 'l'l' 3o 41.1.
AVD for sale, by.the barrel or Muer quanaties,loo
barrels Monongahela Whisky. at -
APPOLD'S Warehouse,
Canal Base
Cola. May 14, '6l
For Sale at a Bargain.
MITE choice of Two Fire and Burglar Proof Safes—
/ “Herring" or . .bilneaa Patent; also. a FnanlY
Home. and a first-rate Carriage and Harness. Call a
the store of ,
• C. FONDFR9IIIITH.
Cola. May 17 t 1962. adjoining, the Bank
HO! FOR cartisrmAst
Choice Baking Bo:asses; the best in the market at
•STEACY & BOWER,'.
Cola- Dec 6 1862. • C0r. WI and Locust SIS.
-CLOAKING-CLOTII.
.13EAUTODD-Dlack Cloth. Poitable for ladle. cloaks
STEACY & BOWERS, -
Corner Second nod i,oenet Street.;
Cola. Dec. 6'52. Opposite Odd Feßores' Hall.
LIQINIS•
• • -
'liave received-a Supply -Of .
r Pure Itroady- , Ord Rye IVhlslry,
Old lio n Wine . .
Which 'we:otTer for isle for htledieinsl mimosa
A. GRAY tc CO: •
Cola, July 6,,1tr 4'; .GolderOlortor Drug Suite.
-- --DRESS GOODS,
Dotaines., Ca.l t nteres - litack. Si Pack- FlannelsTiritioaa, Cliee - re;:ltruslins, Sh ee ting's . Blankets
at ee ORME:RS'
Cola Oet 27 Coe. Mar and, 17_nittn.
•
DONESTlCL—Notwithitandiug the advent*
in the price of Geode. perons Will flail It to :heir
advantage •te - Firll:lipct egaratne •trert rack :40f Illew
/ 46404 . lints; Mei: I ngs,
b~'~nl a fact etreerelare of .that. suitable for new
nere ho a
ogekeepia . aad ktotheenoo.
MTh:ACV & HAM • • krflllie
'MRS. WIRICIVAS. Sootbiig 41Tenp can be
41.1. Wasted iii WiLLIALSVLoihstie:
Egettg.
The Dumb Girl.
[What an exquisite poetess has here chanced to be
t he mother of a dumb child! J
She is my only girl ;
a , lced her for as some most precious thing,
For all unfinished was Lore's jewelled ring,
Till set with this (air pearl;
'rhe shade that Time brought forth I could not see ;
How pure, how perfect, seemed the gift to me!
Oh, many a soft old tune
I used to sing unto that deadened ear,
And suffered hotihe lightest footstep near,
Lest she might we Ire;too soon :
And hushed her brother& laughterWhileshe lai r —,
Ala! needless care! I might have let them play.
+Twat long ere I believed
That tbi• one daughter might not speak to tee ;
Waited and watched God knows how patiently
!row willingly deceived:
Vain toiie ani. long the limiting, liaise Of Faith,
And tended Hope until it pilled to -death.
Oh if she could but hear
For one short hpur, till I her tongue might teach
To call the moiker, in the broken speech
Thal thrills the mother's ear!
Alas: those sealed lips never may he stirred
To the deep music of that lovely word.
My heart it sorely tires
To see her kneel, with -unit a reverent air,
Be.;iaii her inanlier., at tncir evening prayer ;
Or lift those earliest eyes
To which our hp- its though oar words .he kaew,
Theh wove her ov.p j yi nut was speohiug, too.
i've wivelled her looking up
To the brtgut wuttuer of a sunset sky,
With such n depth of meaning in her eye,
That I could ,ilOnoqi hope
The struggling soul would burst tts binding cords,
And the long peut•up thoughts flow forth in wordt.
The song of bird and bee,
The chorus of the ['reeves, streams and groves,
All the grand mu•tc to which N.ture moves,
AFC wasted melody
To her: the world of sound u tuneless void ;
While even silence 'lath Ilt unarm destroyed.
Iler face is very (air;
Iler bine eye be tunful; of finest moth .1
The soft white brow, o'er evhoth, in wave...or g,1,1,
Ripples Iler shining Ivur.
.Its: this lovely temple eloied mist ho,
i•or Hz wltn 1n.11., it keeps Cl.: In tiler key.
I=
fn:n unorUy. kepi fr , r•
en th.k: Its ul tru;lu
=I
that deep 1.-1101 , 00 i, elem"er elifil
Tlicnt m'Ouid t gst, , e: J nt.trnuu log cart, be 'till
She 4eems to hare a sense
Offlonet gladness in her IlDilPio.4 piny;
She 'lath a pleaeaan static, a gentle way,
Where voiceless clo inenee
Couches all livari+,lltaui.li I had once the rear
Clam &veto a, yatlicr would am care for her.
Thank God it :s not so:
lid when his sons are p.itying inerrtly,
metre comes and leans her head upon his knee.
Oh! at such tune♦ I kuow—
Fly Ilis full eye a.lll tone, Ldurd and mihl—
liow hearty cures idward lies silent child.
Nor of oU gift. bereft,
Evert not., ...iota I -ny stre did not opeak !
What real Inligirit ze r ele and cheek.
And int, to him mtho I:It
Uwo :.er sou. yet open
1.• ...Jay to cuter, and CA , la, lit U•SC
And On! u, Inv. , Arab give
To her defect it beauty el le , own.
And we a deeper tenderness have known
Through that for which we grieve
Yet •hnll the sent he melted from her ear.
Yea, and erg voice shad fill it— but rug here
AVlleti that new sense is given,
What rapture will its first experience be,
That never woke lo meaner melody
Than the rich songs of heaven—
To lipar the full-toned anthem swelling round,
While angels teach the cestucles of sound
The Crowded Street
I=
Let me move slowly through the scree t,
Filled with an ever shining trails,
Amid the scund of steps tint t beat
The murmuring walks like autumn rain
How r...t the flitting figures come!
The mild, the fierce. the stony face—
dome itrigni yruh thoughtless smiles, and some
Where secret tears have left their trace.
They pass to toil, to strife, to rest;
To halls in which tho least is spread ;
To chambers ,where the funeral aroma
In 'Amoco site beside the dead.
And,some to happy homes repair,
Where children, pressing cheek to cheek,
IVith mote caresses shall declare
The tenderness they cannot speak.
And some who walk in calmness here,
Shall •Hodder as they reach the door,
Where one who made their dwelling dear—
Its flower, its light—ts seen tin more.
'V h, v.. hi p cheek and tender frame,
And &crap. of greatits.- m th hie eye,
Go'-t thou to build an eatl3 name,
Or early to the task to die!
Keen son of trade, with eager brow,
'Who no w fluttering in the snare!
Tby golden fortunes. tower they now,
Or melt the glittering spires In air?
Who of this crowd to-night than tread .
The dance till daylight gleans again !
Who sorrow o'er the otitimcly dead!
Who writhe an throes of mortal pain!
Some. famine-struck, shall think how long
The cold, dark house—how SLOW the light;
And some, who flaunt staid the throng,
Shall Aide in dens of shame to-night.
Each, where his tasks or pleauwes call,
They paw; RA her... Leach *tact oat. .
There k who heeds, who holds ;hem all, •
...taluslairelogra,aaiLlooßadiki.ww
Tbe'e straggling tides oiliie,that.sesszt
la wayward, aimless coarse to lead, • •
Are eddies at the alight, stream ' •• ;
That coll 4 to Its aplaiinted cad. . •
"NO ENTERTAINMENT SO CHEAP AS READING, NOR ANY PLEASURE SO LASTING."
COLUMBIA, PENNSYLVANIA, SATURDAY MORNING, MAY 9, 1863.
gitittituto
•
41 10:1Yrider the Oaks
Thl forest, the real forest, lies before us.
Do you wish for songs? let us go under the
old oaks. Do you prefer silence, with the
vague stir in the air ? let us keep below the
pines.
First of all, then; under the oaks. There,
where the grass grows nod the brambles in
terlace; where the sweetbrier stops up the
way and creeping plants abound ; there,
along that shining track, where footsteps
have trodden down the vegetation.
There it is that you are fairly lost; there
that exhale all around nameless, perfumes,
fresh emanations of the earth, of the old
trunks, of the young foliage. The very
light is green, the shade. all interpenetrated
with sun. Not a breeze, except every now
and then indeed a mere puff you know not
whence, which just lifts the branches, wafts
here and there still sweeter scents, then dies
away, and leaves you half intoxicated with
perfume•
What charming mysteries there are in
these nooks! Millions of insects, all dower
ed with intelligence, dressed for a festival,
displaying, between the blades of grass, the
purple, the ebony, the ultramarine of their
elytra, their armor of malachite and gold,
delicate antenum, and little feathered cresti.
There are artizans among them, who lead a
hard life, hewing, sawing, storing, night
and day. There are idlers who go to and
fro, climb to the top of a stalk, look upon
the world below, move right and left, with-
out any particular purpose; take things as
they find them. There are thinkers, too,
motionless for hours beneath a sunbeam.—
There are busybodies, who fly in haste, make
sudden starts, long journeys, prompt returns
without very well knowing why. There are
swarms of epherriera waving hither and
thither in some brilliant spot, neither too
high nor too low, seeking no sustenance, in
a very ecstasy of life, light and harmonious
m)tiun.
It is good to be here. The path glides un
der the bushes; flowering branches strike
against your face. As you advance, a low
ory. a rapid flight, reveal to you nests that
your hand sets gently rocking as you divide
the brancheq before you. From every nook
burst the brilliant owes of the maestri of the
wood. Relbreasts. blackbirds, chaffinches,
wrens—all except the nightingale, who finds
the cite too wild ; except the lark, who pre
fers the open sky of the fields ; except the
quail, who hides her brood in the hay ;—all
at the top of their voice; all, with throats
proudly ;distended, sing trill, call 1 It is a
glorious fullness of harraciny. which affects
you like the vibrations of sunlight.
Marvellously fresh is the song of the
blackbird. In the spring infinitely varied
in its tones, it gets Shorter as the summer
advances, until, by the time his nestlings are
batched, he loses his notes one after the
other, and remains cut short, rather quizzi
cal, rather-embarrassed, and a good deal
amazed that he can go no further. And
while the blackbird whistles at random On
the top of a great oak-tree, the redbreast,
perched below on some thick bush, throws
off a rain of diamonds and pearls, scatters
in the air his crystalline notes, all full of
light and fancy. L iwor yet, beneath the
brilliant concertos and bravura songs, there
are murmurs more intimate and charming
still ; the whispered talk of an enamored
pair; the chirping of the mother to her
young brood. The rest is a mere affair of
display; here there is soul; here there are
endless narrations, little cries of joy, sage
councils, innocent surprises ; sometimes, but
rarely, bursts of anger; lovers who lose
themselves in ineffable repetitions ; children
Whospeakall at once, and little melodious
beautified sighs, nail a bird's heart was not
large enough to bold sO',much happiness.—
Madame de Gasparizt.
Mining Under the Sea.
Mining can hardly belt pleasant occupa
tion: The absence of sun and all natural
light, the dripping sides of the shaft, the
danger of explosion from the fire damp, of
the fall of jutting rocks and numerous other
perils, invest it with vague terrors to active
imaginations. But when the shaft runs un
der the sea, and the swell of the ocean is
distinctly audible, it must suggest many
fears to the diligent miners. The follow
ing graphic description is taken from an
English paper:-
".,We are now four hundred yards out un
der the bottom of the sea and twenty feet
below the sea level. Coast trade vessels
sailing over our heads. Two hundred and
forty feet below us men are nt work, and
there are galleries deeper yet below that.—
The extraordinary poeitions down the face
of the cliff, of the engines and other works
on the surface, at Bottallie r is now explain
ed. The mind is net excavated like other
mines under the earth, but under the sea.—
Haring communicate) thesenarticu lam the
miner next tells us to keep strict silence and
listen. We obey him, sitting speechless and
motionless. If the reader could have be
held us
. now, dressed in our copper-colored
garments, huddled close together in a mere
cleft of subterranean rock, with a flame
'burning on our heads and darkness envelop
ing our litobs,,he ,must certainly have itnag
ined,, without any violent stretch of fancy.
ilint „was,./ii,olting down upon a conclave
°twines. •
" After listening a few minutes a distant
and unearthly noise becomes faintly andi
ble—a long, low, mysterious moaning that
never changes, that is felt on the ear as well
as heard by it, a sound that might proceed
from some incalculable distance—from some
far invisible bight—a sound unlike any
thing that is heard on the upper ground, in
the free 'air of heaven—a sound sublimely
mournful and still, so ghostly and impres
sive wlien listened to in . the subterranean.
recesses of the earth, that we continue in
stinctively to holdour peace, as if enchanted
by it, and think not of communicating to
each other the strange awe and astonish
ment which it has inspired iu us from the
very first.
"At last the miner speaks again and tells
us that what we hear is the sound of the
surf lashing the rooks a hundred and twenty
feet above us, and of the waves that are
breaking on the beach beyond. The tide is
now at the flow, and the sea is in no extra
ordinary state of agitation, so the sound is
low and distant just at this period. But
when storms are at their height, when the
ocean hurls mountain after mountain of
water on the cliffs, then the noise is terrific;
the roaring heard down here in the mine is
so inexpressibly fierce and awful that the
boldest men at work aro afraid to continue
their labor—all ascend to the surface to
breathe the _ upper air and stand on firm
earth ; dreading—though no catastrophe has
over happened yet—that the sea will break
in on them if they remain in the cavern be
low.
"Hearing this, we got up to look at the
rock above us. We are able to stand up
right in the positions we now 'accupy ; and
flaring our candles hither and thither in the
darkness, can see the bright pure copper
streaming through the gallery in every di
rection. Lumps of ooze, of the most lus
trous green color traversed by a natural net
work of thin red veins of iron, appear hero
and there in large irregular patches, over
which water is dripping slowly and inces
santly in certain places. This is the salt
water percolating through invisible crannies
in the rock. On stormy days it spurts out
furiously in thin continuous streams. Just
over our heads we observe a wooden plug,
of the thickness of a man's legs ; there is a
hole there, and that plug is all that we have
to keep out the sea
" Immense wealth of metal is contained
in the roofs of this gallery throughout its
entire length, but will always remain un
touched ; the miners dare not take it for it
is part (and a great part) of the rock which
is their only protection against the son, and
which has been so far worked away bore
that its thickness is limited to an average of
three feet only between the water and the
gallery in which we now stand. No one
knows what might be the consequence of
another day's labor with the pick-axe on
any part of it."—Scientific American.
A FigrTe as True as Beautiful
In the whole range of literature, we do
not remember to have read a more striking
sod beautiful comparison than in the follow
ing, which we copy from " Tho Autocrat of
the Breakfast-tablo," by Dr. 0. W. Holmes,
of Boston. The figure is so natural and per
fect, the application so graphic, as to render
it one of the htippiest eff3rts in the English
language. It is specially applicable to the
present time:
"Did you never, in walking in the fields,
come across a large, fiat stone, which had
been, nobody knows how long, just where
yon found it, with the grass forming a little
hedge, as it were all around it, close to its
edges? and have you not, in obedience to a
kind of feeling that told you it bad been ly
ing there long enough, insinuated your stick,
or your foot, or your fingers, under its edge,
and turned it over as a housewife turns a
cake, when she says to herself, 'lt's done
brown enough by this time.' What an old
revelation, and what en unfurseen and un
pleasant surprise to a small community—the
Very existence of which you had not suspect
ed, until the sudden dismay and scattering
among its members produced by your turn
ilk the old stone over I Blades of grass flat
toned down, colorless, matted together, as if
they had been bleached and ironed; hideous
crawling creatures, coleopterans or horny
shelled turtle bugs, one wants to call them;
some of them softer, but cunningly spread
out, and compressed like Lepine watches ;
black, glossy crickets, with their long fila
ments sticking out like the whips of four
horse stage-coaches; motionless, slug-like
creatures, young larvae, perhaps more hor
rible in the pulpy stillness, than even in the
infernal wriggle of maturity !
"But no sooner is the stone turned and
the wholesome light of day let upon this
compressed and blinded community of creep
ing things, than all of theta who enjoy the
luxury of legs—and some of them Jtave a
good many—rush wildly, dotting each other
and everything in their way, and end in a
general stampede for underground retreats,
from the region poisoned by sunshine. Next
year you will find the grass growing tall and
green where the atone lay; the ground bird
builds her nest where the beetle had his
hole: the dandelion and the butter cup are
growing there, and the broad fans of insect
angels open and abut over their golden discs,
as the rbythmed waves of blissful conscious
ness pulsate through their glorified being.
"There is manning in nob of those im
ages—the butterfly as well as the - others.-
The stone is ancient error. The grass is
human nature bore down and bleached of
all its color by it. The shapes which are
found beneath are the crafty beings that
thrive in darkness, and the weaker organ
isms kept helpless by it. lie who turns the
stone over is whosoever pats the staff of truth
to the old lying incubus, no matter whether
he do it with a serious face, or a laughing
one. The next year stands for the coming
time. Then shall the nature which had lain
blanched end broken, rise in its full stature
and native hues in the sunshine. Then
shall God's minstrels build their nests in
the hearts of a newborn humanity. Then
shall beauty—divinity taking new lines and
colors—light upon the souls of men as the
butterfly, image of the beautiful spirit, ris
ing from the dust, soars from the shells that I
held a poor grub, which would never have
found wings had not the stone been lifted.
You never need think you can turn away
any old falsehood without a terrible squirm- I
ing and scattering of the horrid little pop
ulation that dwells under it."
Position in Sleeping
It is better to go to sleep on the right side,
for then the stomach is very much iu the
position of a bottle turned upside down, and
the contents of it are aided in passing out
by gravitation. Hone goes to sleep on the
left side the operation of emptying the stom
ach of its contents is more like drawing wa
ter from a well. After going to sleep let
the body take its own position. If you sleep
on your back, especially soon after a hearty
meal, the weight of the iligestive organs,
and that of the food, resting on the great
vein of the body, near the backbone, com
presses it, and arrests the flow of the blood
more or loss. If the arrest is partial the
sleep is disturbed, and there are unpleasant
dreams. If the meal has been recent and
hearty the arrest is more decided ; and the
various sensations, such as falling over a
precipice, or the pursuit of a wild beast, or
other impending danger, and the desperate
effort to get rid of it, arouses us, and sends
on the stagnating blood; and we woke in a
fright, or trembling or perspiration,
feel
ing exhaustion, according to the degree of
stagnation, and the length and strength of
the efforts made to escape the danger. But,
when we are not able to escape the danger
—when we do fall over the precipice—when
the tumbling banding crushes us—what
then? That is death! That is the death
of those of whom it is said, when found life
less in the morning—" That they were as
well as they ever were the day before," and
often it is added, "and ate heartier than
common!" This last, as a ;frequent cause
of death to those who have gone to bed to
wake no more, we give merely as a private
opinon. The possibility of its truth is
enough to deter any rational man from a
late and hearty meal. This we do know
with certainty, that waking up in the night
with painful-diarrhat 1, or cholera, or billi
ons cholie, ending in death in a very short
time, is properly traceable to a late large
meal. The truly wise will take the safe side.
For persons who eat three times a day, it is
amply sufficient to make the last meal of cold
bread and butter and a cup of some warm I
drink. No one can starve on it: while a
perseverance in the habit soon begets a vig
orous appetite for breakftst so promising of
a dayof comfort.-17.ttl's Journal of health.
WoeEs.—From the earliest ages to the
present time women have been alternately
worshipped as "angels" and reviled as "cats"
and "serpents"—according as they have be
haved to their adorers and detractors. Wo
men guzzled King Soloman and perplexed St.
Paul, whose messages to his female converts
testify to the difficulty some of them caused
him. In our day, however, our schoolboy
seems to think he can solve all the difficulties
of the woman question their natural ten
dencies,possibilities and prospects in th is life.
Women, instead of being, as heretofore,the
rock on which wise men have split, are now
become little more than the blocks which fools
try to cut with their razors, while waiting for
their beards to grow. What women have
been we know pretty well average human
beings, on the whole doing their duties as
well as they knew how, nurturing the (pal
ities of their husbands, their eons or their
brothers. They hive made themselves felt
as effectual elements in the ordering of
human affairs. Their is no instance where
a man has become a great leader, either as
general, statesman or religious reformer,
who had not some woman living at the root
of his inner life. fostering his ideas and hie
aims—with whom he has taken counsel—
out of whose thoaghte be has derived nutri
ment fur his own thoughts who has help
ed him, and believed in him, and advised
him, and stack to him, when the whole
world seemed against hi.n. Women do not
often achieve greatness for themselves, but
they are at the bottom of all that is good
and the most of what is bad, in the world.
LONGEVITY OF TO ANTEDILUVIAN/G.--
There are so very many causes contributing
to shorten considerably the length of hums&
life, that we have completely lost every crite
rion by which to estimate its originallura
tion; and it would be no slight problem for
a profound physiological science to discover
and explain from a deeper investigation of
the earth, or of astronomical influences,
which are often susceptible of very ,minute
applications, the primary cause of human
longevity. By isitriilar course of life and
diet than the very artificial, unnatural, and
ver-refined modes wo follow, there are, even
at the present day, numerous exampfeeof a
$1,50 PER YEAR IN ADVANE; $2,00 IF NOIN ADV INE
longevity far beyond the ordinary duration
of human life. In India it is by no moans on
common to moot with men, especially in the
Drahminical cast, more than a hundred years
of age, and in the robust, and even generative
vigour ofconsititution. In the laboring class
of Russia, whose modes of life are so simple,
there are examples of men living to more
than a hundred, a hundred and twenty, and
, even a hundred and fifty years of age; and,
although these instances form but raro ex
ceptions, they are more numerous there
than in other European countries. There
are even remarkable cases of old men who af
ter the entire loss of their teeth have gained a
complete new set, as' if their coustitution
had received a new sap of life, and a prin
ciple of second growth. What in the prsant
physical degeneracy of min kind, forms
but a rare exception, may originally have
been the ordinary measure of the duration
of human life, or at least may afford us
some trace and indication of such a measure,
more especially as other branches of natur
al science offer corresponding analogies.—
On the other side of that great wall of. sep
aration which (levities us from the primitive
ages, in that remote world so little known
to us, a standard for the duration of human
life very different from the present may have
prevailed; and such an opinion is very prob
able, supported as it is by manifold testimo
ny, and confirmed by the sacred record of
man's divine origin.—Schlegel.
Brans' SENSE or DANGER.—The power of
judging of actual danger and the free and
easy boldness which results from it, are by
no means uncommon. Many birds seem
to have a most correct notion of a gun's
range, and, while scrupulously careful to
keep beyond it, confine their care to this
caution, though the most obvious resource
would be to fly right away out of sight and
hearing, which they do not choose to do.—
And they sometimes appoar to make even
an ostentatious use of their power, fairly
putting their wit and cleverness in anti
gonism to that of man, for the benefit of
their fellows. I lately read an account,
by a naturalist is Brazil, of an espedi-
Lion he made to one of the islands of the
Amazon to shoot spoonbills, ibises, and
other ofthe magnificent grallatorial birds
which were most abundant there. his
design was completely baffled, however, by
a wretched little sandpiper that preceded
him, continually uttering his telltale cry,
which aroused all the birds within hearing.
Throughout the day did this individual
continue its self-imposed duty of sentinel of
others, effectually preventing the approach
of the fowler to the game, and yet manage
ing to keep out of the range of his gun.
11 1 1 zal k PDE/1.1
THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC.
The Rappahannock Crossed at Four
Points.
The Whole Army la Motion.
From the best attainable information from
persons arriving from the Rappahannock, it
appears that some important movements of
the army took place on Wednesday, although
there WAS no fighting of any importance.
The United States forces crossed the Rap
pahannock at Kelly's Ford.
Pontoon bridges were laid two or three
miles below Fredericksburg, and we took
possession of these points on Wednesday
night.
The enemy formed lines of battle and
planted batteries on the heights of their
rear, and also fired a few shots in order to
get the range.
In crossiog we lost one or two officers
killed and from thirty to forty men wounded.
Our men crossed first in boats, drove the
rebel pickets out of their rifle pits, killed
and wounded many, and took 100 prisoners,
including several officers, one of whom was
Lieut.-Col. llarnmond, of the Gth Louisiana
regiment. These prisoners arrived here
yesterday, and were sent to the Old Capitol
prison.
Another informant says the left wing,
35,000 strong, crossed four miles below
Fredericksburg, a little below where Frank
lin crossed previous to the last battle. They
fought twelve hours, and drove the enemy
sight miles out of their rifle pits and behind
their entrenchments. The third brigade of
the first division of the first corps has suf
fered more than any other in the fight.
Our forces have captured between 500 and
GOO prisoners, who will soon be brought to
this city.
Many of these prisoners have voluntarily
come over to us, having thrown away their
arms, in small squads, and begged fur food.
They pick up what the soldiers have thrown
away on the march. Other rebels, however,
say they have got plenty to eat.
The right wing crossed at Kelly's Ford,
and Stoneman's cavalry is reported to be
somewhere in the rear of Fredericksburg.
Our army corps remains at Falmouth as
a reserve.
The latest information of the grand move
ments of the Army of the Potomac is given
in the following letter from a correspondent
of the Tribune: •
lIRADQUARTERS ARMY OF TUE POTOMAC.
Thnrsday. , April 30.—0 n Monday morning
at 5 o'clock, the Eleventh, Major General
lloward's corps, the Twalftkolyajor General
Slocum 's and fifth. Major General Meade's
ocrpv, struck their tents and marched west-
[WHOLE NUMBER 1,706.
ward on the several roads leading to Kelly's
Ford, distant from the lino of Again, Creek
and Fredericksburg Railroad about twenty
five miles. The Eleventh carps, being in
the advance, reached Kelly's Ford at eleven
o'clock on Tuesday morning.
A brigade from this corps, commanded by
Col. Rusehbeek, had been guarding the
Ford ever since the advance of the cavalry
two weeks ago. The position had been
well reconnoitered, and hence immediate
preparations were made for laying the pon
toons, which, strange as it may seem to
"strategists," were in the right place at the •
right time. Toe engineering was directed
by Captain Comstock, of Hooker's staff, but
both the laying of the bridges and the cross
ing were superintended by Major (lettered
Howard in person.
The position is an admirable one fur the
exercise of a little strategy. Marsh Run
empties into the river just below the fords,
after stealing its way round a high bluff.—
The pontoon boats were moored in this
creek behind the bluff; in seventeen boats.
two hundred and fifty-five men from the Tad
Pennsylvania volunteers and the 154th New
York regiments suddenly darted from the •
shadow of the bill, and pushed vigorously
across the river and seized the bank. The
rebel pickets, about twenty in number, at
tempted to fire, but their powder being wet
succeeded only in snapping a few caps 'at"
the men in the boats.
Skirmishers were deployed to the right,
left and front, but the enemy were nowhere
to be found. The remainder of the two re=
giments crossed in boats, while the bridge
building was pushed forward with a MOB&
commendable vigor. Early io the evening
the tleventh corps commenced crossing, and
the twelfth bivouacked on the commanding
bluffs that surround the ford.
On Tuesday morning, long before the day
had dawned, the tramp of feet was again
heard on the floating way, and when the
gray light of morning rose on the scene,
long black lines were projecting themselves
in radio from the pontoon launching, and
the plain beyond the river was soon covered
with moving masses of men.
At six o'clock General Stoneman's cavalry
cores arrived at the bridge, and commenced
crossing. Following these came the fifth
corps, the twelfth having already crossed.
The wagon trains were all sent back from
Kelly's Ford, and parked near Banks' Ford,
and to those who study the directions ci
straws, it was evident that a connection
would be forced from Banks' Ford to tho
troops from Kelly's Ford. From 11 o'clock
till 1 irregular firing was •huard in the di
rection of Germania on the Rapidan, and it
is supposed that the enemy was there en
deavoring to check the rapid march of the
national troops, yet nothing trustworthy has
yet reached us.
At 12 o'clock on Tuesday, the camps of
the First corps, Major General Reynolds;
the Third Major General Sickles, and the
Sixth, Major General Sedgwick, were aban
doned and the troops put in motion. When
daylight broke. on Wednesday Morning.,
national brigades had surprised, surround
ed and captured the enemy's pickets and re
serves, and the astonished rebels beheld two
bridges connecting the hostile shores of the
Rappahannock, fuur miles below Freder
icksburg.
As at Koll:y's Ford, so here, there was no
waiting for potoone. Everything was in
readine.s, and so C.tilfully and quietly was
the launching of the boats and the crossing
of the men conducted, that the first notice
the rebel outposts had of what was going on
was the approach of the boats filled with
men. They fired a volley at random, which
wounded some twenty men of 119th Penn
sylvania volunteers, that regiment having
the advance, Col. Ellmakor is reported se
verely wounded.
The success of the expedition in boats was
so complete as to provent li. an alarm. The
laying of the bridges, though in the very
face of the enemy, was, therefore, carried to
completion without his knowledge.
The hazy atmosphere of the night was
most favorable for the work. Though one
could see perfectly well for a space of twen
ty feet around, objects more distant were
wholly undistinguishablo through the mist.
Two bridges were laid near the same cross
ing— one by a detachment of regulars, and
the other - by volunteers. A pleasant rivalry
sprung up, and the volunteer boys carried
the laurels by completing.their bridge thirty
minutes in advance of the regulars. After
this a third bridge was constructed.
A sufficient force to hold the bridge was
marched over and placed in position, after
which the crossing ceased for the day. The
several commands on this side were advan
tageously posted to await further orders.—
The time, purport and execution of these
orders will appear at the close of this drama.
Two miles further down the river General
Reynolds. with the first corps, constructed
a bridge in the face of the enemy's rifle-pits,
and effected a crossing. The resistance was
stubborn, but of short duration. The fir e
of the artillery was too rapid and severe for
the enemy, and he wisely abandoned the,
earthworks and fled, leaving in the bands
of a party who crossed in boats eighty-seven,
prisoners from the 13th Georgia and 6th
Louisiana, attached to Jackson's command.
The prisoners report Jackson as aornmsed l
ing the right wing of the rebel army.
Yesterday the second, Couch's corps took
a position in the rear of Banks' Ford with. r
full facilities for crossing hie own corps and. ,
as many as might Le ordered to follow him •