i*h tthe Republican. EDUCATION. ' Education, I consider as consisting in the formation of the character, in the prop* oration of own for usefulness and happi ■ ness. It involves the right development and cultivation and direction of all his powers, physical, intellectual and moral. It implies instruction in all the branches of knowledge which are necessary to useful and efficient action in the sphere of the individual, , But it must also include the physical, (raining which is to render the body capablo of executing the purposes of the soul. The skill which is requisite in order to apply our knowledgeand strength to the very best advantage; . and above all, the moral discipline by which the charac* ter and direction of all our efforts are to be decided. ■ Each of these branches includes an extension list of particulars ; and the means ofeducation comprise all thoso cir cumstances. and influences by which the human character is formed and modified. In this view, education does not begin with the school nor does it terminate with the university. It begins with the first mo-j ment of consciousness. Every being, ev-i cry object, every event forms a part of it. I The first lessons are given in the arms of the mother. The parent by her looks and movements, and the sun by its varying lights, nre educating the eye. The food which is given him calls forth his appetite and forms him to habits of temperance or sensuality. The clothing which ly^wears begins to inspire tho taste for simplicity or the lure of finery. ~ In the progress of childhood, tho daily, and hourly treatment he receives, tho con duct he witnesses and the language he hears in the family circle, in the company of domestics, in the little society of his school fellows and play mates, all exert nn influence upon him, no less decided, and often more powerful than the instructions of the school or the exhortations of the pa rent, or tho worship of the church, and all therefore make an essential part of his ed ucation. As he advances into youth and manhood, the number of educators who thus sur-! round him, and tho various influences to! which he is exposed are greatly increased.! Society at length begins to act upon him ] as ho feels the force of public opinion.— The church presents its weekly school of 1 instruction and discipline, which may ex- i ert the most efficient and salutary influ enco ; and the employs its power in : directing and restraining, and thus educa ting the man by means of laws and iusti- 1 tutions whose operations terminate only in the grave. Education, then, in its largest sense, is not limited to time; it is not confined to| the narrow, foundaries of existence which' we can discern. We have said that its first lessons are given in the mother’s i arms. , The family is its primary school ; | the scries of public institutions is bat tliei academy of this great cause.. I Readers, let us look at the benefits of! early knowledge. It is peculiarly desirable to acquire as 1 much knowledge us possible while young, because il.istbon acquired most cosily. All the powers of the mind are then active and elastic —the feelings are fresh and vigor ous—imagination is lively —the spirit ex ults in buoyant hope, which nerves it to severe efforts. Obstacles arc soon sur mounted, and the: yielding mind is readily molded to patterns of exalted worth and greatness. As you ndvance froth youth, the mind becomes less inclined and less able to expand, so that if you pass on to inaturo years with your mind narrowed by | ignorance, it will probably always revolve in the same little circle. Earlv knowledge is not dnly the easiest acquired but Ike longest retained. The memory becomes treacherous as age ad vances. With most persons it begins to fail by thirty-five or forty, and they then find by experience, that their early knowl edge lms the firmest hold of their minds. One thorough reading of history while young, is worth more for the purpose of impressing its facts' upon tho memory than half-a-dozen readings at the ago of forty or fifty. Hence, the lessons of the nurse ry, the primary school, and the sabbath echool impart the knowledge which most | faithfully attends us through our life.— ; Early knowledge is valuable capital, with | Which-to set out in life. It gives one anj advantageous start. If the possession ofj ■ knowledge has a given value at fifty, it has • a much greater at twenty-five, for there is (ho use of it for twenty-five of the most ■ important years ol his life, and- it is worth more than a hundred per cent interest.— Indeed, who can estimate the interest ol knowledge, its price is above rubies. How often do we hear men advanced in life say: ‘lf I had possessed the knowl- when young that I now have, 1 might '•have bedoroe rich > learned and great, and 1 influential. The essential elements ofkpowl- D edde you may acquire while young. If fi»- ivbwd WitK opportunities, therefore it is yWrl own fault if t you do not secure the ’needful knowledge. - ' ''-’Early knowledge,isimportant to enable 'iihe ‘iii tseastm to feel his own strength thousands mistake ‘heir calling for want of it. Men, who might have acted a brilliant ' part in' ,the pursuits for . which they -vyero adopted, dm often doomed through life to "o tiresbmo and fruitless employment be cduse they. did not possess sufficientknowl bdgerwdilo to, direct energies fdK .course. Most of all is early •knowledge important, to dispose and ena ’-blc. ydu to pstJnjpe the perils.and ; tempta. ‘irons M invite your rising energies away 'npia' thq.solicitations, of the youth- TuT—to lay before you ,the vast; motives to rise to the proper dignity of yoiir intollec fttl add ritdral being ; that you may secure the ereat end; for which'you were made. Id a very important' sense, youths are «aved by knowledge, and destroyed for thdlactofit. ‘My people «ald our Creator ‘lor lack of knowledge , because thou hast rejected knowledge, I Cleorftela -HUpitbUtMu A WEEKLY PAPER : DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, AGRICULTURE, MORALITY, AND FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC INTELLIGENCE. PuMfclW £m (Qlo&ipfSioMj ©v©ffy W®<fflna®t3(3lsi7 Hsy 3D)sir&in©ll Wo M©®ir© <§s (DHaurk Wnflo®imo Volume 5, also reject thee.' Therefore let overy’ young person to whom the acquiring of knowledge is yet possible, be ndmonished to seek it rathor than fine gold; to prize it above rubios, assured that nil the things to be desired are not to bo compared with'it. Knowledge is generous and communi cative, and jealousy at its progress is a sure symptom of its want—but the day has come when it cannot be successfully re- i sisted. ‘Superstition may condemn Galli-1 loe’ for his improved astronomy, but the | earth continues to turn around with all its! stupid inhabitants revolving into light.—! Some are born in darkness and have al- 1 wayB dwelt thore from choice; it is their native land; for it they fight, and it is the only sense in which they are patriotic, | lhe more objections ore thrown ('heforo the flooding tide of knowledge, the [more destructive energies will be develop ed. The force of cannon may quell mobs : but education will prevent them. I Moral power creates the strongest mu ini lions of safety, while arbitrary compu lsion degrades both the tyrant and his vie j tim. We may expect a few will cry out I against increased illumination, as that j which they deprecate. Education cures su perstition and destroys all tyranny over body and soul, and the firo cross of wis dom is shining from hill-top to hill-top, land is rapidly hounding from land to land. hope she has settled and spread ! her caressing pinions overour native State. [The Keystone is tho beautiful motto which our great Slute has chosen. Let her wise ily fulfill that noble idea, by striving thro’ ,thc means of nn enlarged and thorough education of the people to rise higher nnd ; higher in the endless scale of good. Clearfield, Feb. 28, ’54. T. J. M. Fields Intkxued fob Conx.—lf the ground you intend to put in corn next spring is a clover lay, manure and plough it up deeply': leave it until just before you are going to plant your corn, then'harrow it until you get it into fine tilth. This done, sow on each acre of it two bushels of salt, harrow it in, roll, and plant your corn; — nnd you will experience but little unnoy mice from grub and other worms, as the salt will give them their quietus just as no tably as though you had done it with a bodkin. Thus instead of being depredu ted upon and injured by these troublesome 'serpents, your soil will be enriched by tho i decomposition of their bodies, and they ; made to eucourage the growth of your ! corn. This salt, however, will do more : than this : it will to a considerable extent, j act as a fixer to the ammoniu in the soil as it may be formed, attract moisture from the atmosphere, preserve corn plants from a firing, and furnish no inconsiderable quan tity of soda and chloride for their nppro -1 priation. God Bless the Honest Labored j In no country of tho earth is tho honest labor so blessed as in these United Slates. No where else is ho so Intelligent and in genious. The American laborer is renown ed, the world over, for his skill, industry and enterprise, and we hope and trust ho always .will be. Young man! and you young woman! never say or think evil of the laborer.— When tempted to despise employment, re member Him who said "The laborer is worthy of his hire,” and do not forget thut when you repose in the silent tomb, there will yet remain good and true hearted of both sexes, who will pray sincerely, in the words of tho poet: “God Bless the Honest Laborer.” Cross Examination.— *Mr. Witness, you stated that my client manifested great astonishment when you told him the facts you stated. Now, how did he manifest as tonishment?’ 'Ho looked astonished.’ ‘But what were the indications of aston ishment, sir V You seem to be'a very smart witness, and you ought to be able to tell me this.’ ‘Oh, I merely judged of his feelings by his general appearance.’ ‘That won’t answer, sir. If you can’t describe the appearance of my client when astonished, in order to give the jury an idea of it, suppose you look astonished once yourself.’ - ‘Well; now, my sharp fellow, wlmt would astonish such an astonishing witness as yourself, hey V ‘Whv, if you wish, to paralyze mo with astonishment,, just show me un honest law yer’ . , •The the—wi —wt —witness can take his seat.’ (ttrThe lady’ who treats the husband man with scorn, because he is a farmer, contributes something towards increasing the number of candidates for the States prison and the gallows. OirAll the' true honor and happiness there is in this world follows labor. Wore it not for working-men, there could be no progress in either science or art. Work ing men are earth’s true nobility. Those who lieve without work are all paupers. OtrTbe very soul and essence of trade, Bays a distinguished author, are regular payments —we would add, particularly in printing. Delinquents will please ■ take notice. £ . i THE TROUBLESOME NEIGHBOR Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Adams were near neighbors. If this had been in the city, they might have lived thus for many years without making each other’s acquaintance. | As, however, the villago in which they lived was but a small one, visiting natur ally led to fumiliar acquaintance, and this to on interchange of neighborly courtesies. It will not do to cultivate exclusiveness in a country village—to ‘keep one’s self to one’s self,’ as the saying is. Every one makes it a point to know all about every body else, and feels.agrieved if any impe diments are thrown in the way. This, however, is something of a digression. Mrs. Adams had but lately become a resident of the village'- where my story is located, und her acquaintance with Mrs. Brown was, therefore, of but recent date. ‘Bridget,’ said Mrs. Adams to the Irish mnid-of-all-work, entering this lady’s pre cinct one morning, ‘how much sugar is there in the bucket ?’ ‘Shure ma’am and there is’nt more than enough to last to-day.' ‘ls it possible I’ said Mrs. Adams in sur prise, ‘and it was only got Inst week.— What makes it go so last?’ ‘l’m thinkin’ ma’am, it’s because Mrs. Brown has sent to borrow it three times.’ ‘And hasn’t she thought of returnin'; it?’ ‘Well first and lust,she’s borrowed about 1 ten pounds, and a few days ago she sent in two pounds of dirty brown sugar, full of sand and sticks, that wasn’t fit for any Christian at all to eat,’ ‘Has she borrowed any thing elsolalely?’ ‘1 should like to know what sho hasn’t borrowed. Yesterday she borrowed a bar of soap and a quart of milk, half a dozen pounds of flour, and a pint of molasses.— Every day she her Jane to borrow something or oilier.’ ‘Aud doesn’t she return other things better than she has done in the case of the sugar.’ ‘Faith ma’am, and its lucky you may think yourself if she returns anything at all.’ ‘lf that’s the case, Bridget, matters ngist be looked into a little. When Jane comes to borrow anything more, just let me know of it before you let it go.’ ‘I can’t understand,’ thought Mrs. Ad ams, as she walked away, ‘wlmt a woman can be thinking of, to depend so constantly on her neighbors. To my mind it’s just as bad to borrow an article without intend ing to return it, as it is to pick a persons pocket.’ Mrs. Adams hod hardly seated herself to work when Bridget popped her head in at the door, and snid : ‘Please, ma’am, Jane is here, und she says, Mrs. Brown sends her compliments and would be much obliged for the loan of a castor.’ ‘Hasn’t she got one of her own V ‘Yes ma’am, but it has got rusty, and she’s going to have company for dinner. ‘Very well, we can do without ours for one day ; but you must tell Jane to return it before the dinner hour to-morrow.’ ‘Yes ma’am.’ Bridget disappeared, hut returned in the space of a minute. ‘Jane forgot to ask for tho loan of a ta ble cloth ana a dozen knives and forks.’ ‘What can that woman mean!’ said Mrs. Adams in astonishment at the new demand. ‘Well, you mny give them to her, but tell her strictly that they must bo returned to-morrow.’ ‘lt seems to me,’ Bhe continued, when Bridget hud left the room, ‘that Mrs. B. must be strangely destitute of household conveniences, or she would not be obliged to borrow by wholesale, as she has done lately.’ ‘Bridget,’ said Mrs. Adams the next ev ening, ‘lias Mrs. Brown leturned tho arti cles she borrowed yesterday ?’ ‘Faith, not a bit of it; but hark—there’s -June knocking at the door'this minute, perhaps she is bringing them back.’ ‘Mrs. Brown sends her compliments,’ said the young lady in question, on being admitted, ‘and. would be greatly obliged by the loan of a pair of glass lamps. Tom my broke ours to-day, and she ain’t got any to burn.’ ‘Well,’ said Mrs. Adams, not overwait ingly, ‘sho cun have ours for to-night. I suppose, of course, she will provide for herself to-morrow. But you have not brought in the castor and other articles I lent you yesterday.’ ‘La, no,’ said Jane, cooly ; Mrs. Brown thought as she expected company to din ner day after to-morrow, she’d just keep ’em and that wonld save tho trouble of sending again.’ ‘Very considerate, upon my word, 5 thought Mrs. Adams, though she did not say it. She could not help saying, how ever, with some slight emphasis, ‘ls thero anything else I could lend Mrs. Brown to day?’ ‘There now,’ said Jape, with a sudden recollection, ‘I came near forgetting "one thing, and I should if you hadn’t mention ed it. Mrs. Brown would like to borrow I your gridiron.’ . ‘Gridiron!’ said Mrs. Adams in some ttstonishinent. f ‘Yes, ma’am; we’ve mislaid ours where Clearfield, Pa., April 5, 1854. we can’t find it, so if you havn’t no object ions, we’d like to borrow yours, as we’re going to broil some steak to-morrow morn ing.’ ‘Bridget,’ said Mrs. Adams, in a tone of despair, ‘get the gridiron for Jane, and if,’ she continued, turning to the latter, ‘you could make it convenient to return it in a fortnight, I should be glad.’ ‘Oh, yes, said Jane, simply, not noticing the sarcastic lone in which she spoke. ‘I don’t think wc shall want it above a week.’ ‘I don’t see the castor,’ remarked Mr. Adams, the next day to his wife at the dinner table. ‘Bridget ought to remember to place it oiv the table.’ ‘So she would, but Mrs. Brown, our next door neighbor, has borrowed it.’ ‘Borrowed the castor? what n strange request, I think. But why didn’t Bridget cook tlie steak I sent home V ‘Because Mrs. Brown had borrowed tho gridiron.’ ‘Mrs. Brown again! You ought not to lend so freely. By the way, where arcnll the umbrellas ? It rained this morning, but I Could find none in their place.’ ‘I don’t know, I’m sure. Perhaps Brid get docs.’ ‘Bridget,’ said she, when that young lady had answered the summons of the bell, ‘do you know what has become of all the umbrellas I’ ‘Sure ma’am, Mrs. Brown has got two of ’em. She borrowed them a week ago.’ ‘And hasn’t she returned them yet?’ ‘No ma’am, nnd I don’t believe that’s the worst of it.’ Just then the bell rang, and Bridget obeyed the summons. ‘Mrs. Brown sends her compliments,’ said she re-appearing, ‘and would like to borrow your largest wash tub.’ Mr. and Mrs. Adams looked at each oth er in astonishment. ‘Well,’ said the former, at length, ‘for sublime audacity the palm must certainly, be nwarded to Mrs. Brown. It is said that three removes are as bad os a fire, but 1 would like to know how many removesare as bad as a borrowing'neighbor ?’ ‘Am I to tell Jane that sir V asked Bridget a little mischeviously ? ‘No, no,’ said Mrs. Adams, laughing. — ‘You may give her the tub, and you needn’t say anything about returning it — it won’t do any good.’ ‘Seriously,’ she continued, .something must be done, or the house will soon bo empty. You don’t know half the extent to which Mrs. Brown carries her borrowing propensity. Within the past week she has borrowed tea, coflee,milk,sugarflour,eggs, frying pans, table-napkins, a castor, grid iron, shovel and tongs, and other articles, as the auctioneers say, too numerous to mention. This is bad enough, but Mrs. Brown in addition to this, seems to regard the act of borrowing as investing her with the right of permanent possession, at least I judged so from the fact that she seldom or never returns the articles she borrows.’ ‘ls it possible,’ said Mr. A., in amaze ment ; ‘some end must be put to this whole sale robbery. Suppose you begin to bor row of her. It is a bad rule that won’t work both ways, and perhaps if you make her feel a little of the annoyance to which she has subjected you, it may be produc tive of benefit.’ ‘A good idea,’ said the wife laughing; ‘and it is better to try this course than to refuse directly lending any further—that would only produce bad feelings between us.’ ‘And yet,’ said Mr. A., ‘we must come to that finally unless the present course succeeds.’ And next morning Bridget was sent to Mrs. B’s. to borrow half a dozen tumblers, a nutmeg grater, and a couple of sheets. Mrs. Brown was surprised. She had never before received such qn application from Mrs. Adams, and she could not help wondering, besides, at the miscellaneous nature of the loans requested. Her sur prise was increased on the following day, when Bridget brought her mistress’ com pliments, and would like to borrow her clothe horse. ‘Yes, you may take it, but we shall want it early next week. But havn't you brought back the tumblers ?’ ‘No ma’am,’ said Bridget; ‘mistress expects considerable company in a day or two, and it will save the trouble ofborrow ing again if she don’t return them till af terwards.* ‘Well!’ thought Mrs. Brown, ‘1 must, say that’s decidedly cool!’ Every New England house-keeper knows that Tuesday is ironing day in all welt regulated families, ‘I should like to know,’ said Mrs. Brown on thnt morning, ‘why Mrs. Adams don’t return my clothes horse. She must know that it will be in uso to day. Jane go over and ask for it.’ Jane did her errand. ‘Give my compli ments to Mrs. Brown,’ replied Mrs. A., and tell her that since she borrowed our clothes line we have to dry our clothes in tho house, and, therefore, were obliged to get Iter clothes horse. YVe should have bedn through using it, but as she has our larg est tub, it takes more than one dny to get through with the washing.’ This message produced a little sensation in the houso over the way. The result was the return of the articles mentioned by Mrs. A. Mrs. B’s. eyeß began to open to the true state of things, but she was not yet cured, however, for.the next day Juno made her requesting the loan of the gridiroftafe&! ‘Tclf'fSfr mistress,’ said Mrs. A., ‘that it is-gut of my power to do so, ns she bor rowed it a month ago, und has not yet re turned it.’ Mrs. Brown’s eyes were opened wider s,ill - next day Mrs. A. was requested by a message, to send a list of the articles which had been borrowed by Mrs. Brown, and tho latter would return thorn. With Bridget’s help, Mw..JL. made out a list of thirty-seven she sent without comment. Mrs. Brown was petrified with-astonish ment. She was really very sorry for the trouble and inconvenience which she had occasioned her neighbor. She sent a mes sage to that effect, when, after two day’s dilligent search, she contrived toget togeth er all the articles mentioned in Mrs. Ad ams’ list. She was now thoroughly cured of bor rowing. [Reader, have you borrowed the paper from which you read the above, or are you a regular subscriber?] Look Before you Kick. —A minister in one of our Orthodox churches, while on his way to preach a funeral semon in tho country; called to see one of his members, an old widow lady, who lived near the. road he was travelling. . The old lady' had just been making sausages and she felt proud of them—they were so plump, round and sweet. Of courso she insisted on her minister taking some of the links home to his family.— He objected on account of not having his portmanteau along. This objectiTJn was soon overruled, and the old lady, nftcr wrapping them in a rag, carefully placed a bundle in cither pocket of tlie preacher’s capacious great coat. Thus equipped he started for '.he funeral. While attending to the solemn ceremo nies of the grave, some hungry dogs scent-1 cd the sausages, and were not long in trncking them to the pockets of tho good mans overcoat. Of course this was n great annoyanco, and he was several times under the necessity of kicking these whelps •away. The obsequies at the grave being complete, tho minister and congregation repaired to the church where the funeral discourse was to bo prenched. After the sermon was finished, the min ister hulled to make soma remarks to his congregation, when a brother, who desired to have an appointment given out, ascend ed the sfeps of the pulpit, and gave the min isters'coat a hich, to get his attention.— The divine thinking it a dog having designs upon his pocket, raised his foot, gave a sud den kick, and sent the good brother sprawl ing down the steps ! “You will excuse me, brethren and sisters, said the minister, confusedly, and without lookingatthe work he had just done, “for 1 could not avoid it—l have sausages in my pocket, and that dog has been try ing to grab them ever since I came on the premises.” Your readers may judge of the effect such an announcement would have at a funeral. Tears of sorrow were suddenly exchanged for smiles of merriment” wonders where all the pillow cases go to. He says he never asked a girl what she was making, while engaged in while sewing, without being told that it I was a pillow cuse. I This is an evidence that the girls know I how to answer a fool ocording to his folly. Snooks is a good-for-nothing, impudent follow to ask such impertinent questions, nnd the girls were right in making a shift, and not answering him correctly. A aian famous for hunting up enig mas philosophised thusi—What strange creatures girls are. Offer one of them good wages to work for you, and ten chances to one if the old woman can spare any of the girls —but just propose matrimony, und see if they don’t jump at a chunce of work ing a lifetime for their victuals and clothes. Nathaniel Shelly, Esq.—He was complaining some one had insulted him, by sending him a letter addressed to “Nat Shelly.” • “Why,” said a-friend, “I don’t see any thing insulting in that. Nat is an übrevia tion for Nathaniel.” “I know it,” said the little man, “but blust his imprudence ! he spelled it with a G-Gnat!” OO” In a laje Abolition speech in New York, Miss Lucy Stono said : “But 1 know so well there is cotton in the ears of men, let us look for hope in (he bosoms of women ” Won’t you find cotton therd too, Miss Lucy 1 OiT Mrs. Partington says when the mar riage knot is f rst tied it is a “beau” knot, but it soon gets to be a hard knot. Folks talk about -taking the shine out oLtheir neighbors: that may b«, but they retain none of it themselves. A\ Ancient Love-Leit«h. —An anti- - quarian friend has shown us a very brown old teller on the paper and in the cramped chirography of the period of a hundred yeurs ago—the body of which letter we here copy literally, for our readers.— Whether it is the original letter, or a copy from' it, or a copy from some published work, we are unable tosay. But the paper and letter before us arc certainly a century old. “Tho’ I never had the Happiness to see you, no, not so muchu in a picture, and consequently can no more tell what Complexion you are of, than he that lives in the Remotest pnrt9 of China ; yet Mad am, I’m fallen passionately in love with you ; and this affectation has taken So •deep Root in me, that my Conscience I will die a Martyr for you, with ns much Alarc rity as Thousands have done for their Re ligion, tho’ they know as little of tho truth for which they have died, as 1 do of your Ladyship. This may surprise you, Mad am ; but you’ll cense to wonder, when 1 shall inform you what it wos that not only gave birth to my Passion, but hassoeffee tually Confirmed it. Last week riding in to the Country about my lawful nffairs, it was my fortune to see a most Magnificent Seat upon the Rond: this Excited my cu riosity to enquire after the owner of so Beautiful a Pile; and being informed it be longed to your Lndyship, I began that very Moment to have a strange Inclination for you ; but 1 was further informed that, two Thousand acres of the best land in Eng land belong’d to this Noble Fabrick, to gether with a fine Purk, vnriety of Fish Ponds, and such like conveniences. 1 fell then up to the Ears in lovo, and then sub mitted ton power which I could not Resist. Thought I to myself, the owner of so many agreeable things must needs be the most Charming Lady in tho Universe: what tho' she be old, her trees nre green. What tho’ she has lost nil the Roses in her Cheeks, She Ims enough in her gardens. — With these thoughts I lighted from my horse, and on n sudden fell so enamoured with your ladyship, that I told my Passion to every tree in your park; which by the by ure the Tallest, Straightest, loveliest, finest shop’d trees I ever Saw ; and 1 have since wore out above a Dozen Penknives in engraving your Name upon ’em. I will appeal to your Ladyship, whether any lover went upon more Solid Motives than myself. Those that chusea Mistress whol ly for her Beauty, will infallibly find their passions to Decay with that: those that pretend to admire a Woman for the quali ities'of her mind, arc guilty of a piece of Pagan superstition, longsince worn thread bare by Plato and his Disciples; for he that loves not a fair lady for her form as well os her Spirit, is only fit in my opin ion to make his Court to a Sceptre ; where as, Madam, you need not question the sin cerity of my Passion, which is built on the jsame foundation with your house; grows ! with your trees, and will doily increase , with your Estate. For all 1 know to the j Contrary, your Ladyship may be the hand (somest woman in the world ; but whether ; you are or no, signifies not a farthing, | while vou have money enough to set you ioff plho’ you were ten times more forbid ! ding than the Present Red nose Countess i of and ten times older than the famous I Countess of Desmond. lam a soldier by my Profession; and I Fought for pay, so with Heaven’s blessings, I Deign to love pay. All your other suitors would speak the same language to you, were they as honest as myself; this I will tell you for your Comfort, Madam, that if you pitch upon me, you’ll be tho first Widow upon Record, from the creation of the. world to this present hour, that ever Chose a man for telling her the truth. lam your most passionate, etc. — Bizarre. - n Number 8. Authorship or the Bible. —There are in nil sixty-six books which comprise the volumes of Holy Writ, which are attribu ted to more than thirty different authors or writers of the whole. Half of the New Testament was composed by St. Paul, and the next largest writer is the gentle and beloved Saint John. With the single ex ception of Paul, neither tradition nor his tory has testified (hat these powerful think ers and writers ever enjoyed the benefits of education,or that they were ever trained to scholarship and reasoning; yet how ably they have written, what eminent char acters have been chronicled by them, wbat .great events recorded, both for time and eternity. Jeremiah is sorrowful; Isaiah sublime; David poetical; Daniel sagaci ous; Hnbbakuk nnd Hagai-terse and de dunciary ; but they all seem to have exer cised their natural gills under the itiflueence of Divine direction and inspiration. Moses, with his vast knowledge and proud intelli gence—the legislator, the reformer, the de liverer —commenced the work] and John, with the depth of feeling and exquisite ten derness and simplicity, completed it. And what do we know of the lives of all these or oven of tho two last mentioned 1 No thing thatdiirman vanity might exult in.— Moses was rescued from the rushes ot the Nile; and John died in his old age a lone ly exile On the small island of Patinos. How to Weed Youn Friends, —Any particular'misfortuno will Weed them. For instance, if you give them a violent turn of Bankruptcy, or send a fictitious Insol vency cutting through the whole field of them, you will have it soon weeded. In short, harrow them in the best why you can, and the weeds cannot fail being col lected by tho harrowing process. When you have got them inn heap, you Imd bel ter scatter them to the winds. OCrPicklcs is of the opinion that there i is no way in whioh a young lady can show j her ears so effectually as to wear OriOnf the present half-story style of bonnbts.-V -j Tho impudent varlet 1 I OirThe Cincinnati Enquirer tells astory of a pious old gentleman, who told his way- ward sons, not logo, under any circum- / / y j stances, a fishing on the Sabbath; but if/ l. they did, by all means to bring home tl7 fish. “ /
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