she gancarger Wattliigeurer, PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY BY COOPER, SANDERSON & CO., J. M. COOPER, H. G Serra, Wm. A. MORTON, ALFRED SANDERSON TERMS—Two Dollars per annum, payable In all cases In advance. OFFICE-SOUTHWEST. CORNER OF CENTRE SQUARE. Ali letters on business should be ad dressed to COOPER, SANDERSON,& CO. • Nortrg. The Maskers. Yesternight, as late I strayed the orehard's mottled shade— coining to the moonlit alleys, \\There the sweet smith wind, that dallies All dos - with the Queen of I{om•s, night sin tier breast reposes -I)ri idzing from the dew, - blooms, Silences. and , eentell Orionis H . the ‘,..1-10-10rt,i1114.,1 summer night, Lung, deep di'atiglits of pure delight— (Lute): the shalom foliage parted, .linl from out its shadows darted f. 1 1 .111,, trill' hideous raves, r . .051t0r11 , 015, and mini:lees. Gill I c 1 55 beneath the lonely, sighing It Ines, saying only— " Litl le Iriends, you can't alarm me! Will I Isnolv You would not harm me!' tit \v,..y dropped eaeli painted mask, sword ist and paper easque, .\ lid a troop of rasp girls fait :slid kissed me through their curls. I 'aught tcithin their net of graves, loolu,l ritllll4l . tin shining faces, sweetly through the moonlit alleys • • Itang their laughter's silver sallivs. Then along the palliNVity, light With the %chile 11101,10 ot the night, I went peaceful, pacing slow, rapt ice held ill :inns of snow. Happy maids! of you I learn Heavenly noctl:ers Its discern! • when scenting griefs :it' littrit, I . 'll garden With al:dints, Thrtillyli its inner Wall:, elicit:llll.st I Will ever snore Undaunted. 11:111Citiesseitycrs that Tr:iiiit• lutist, of le:, and siwn,W. hiss I . llllls . to do us kinhns~-_ !Mt Joe ( - MX tear...lel sh.aild see, tis roliglsunsets disguise. rheritli elteelss ;thy...! eyes. -1-ItCO.lll. Tim Diamond Ring Bi= It wa- the tiidit before Christmas. Mr. AlM:link.; did not observe the Loy, crouching by the brilliantl - illuminated plate-glass win he spran,g out of his carriage and went into the thronged shop. How should he? But little Ben Morrow's vie.: . r with the sieldy light of ex treme poverty, .took ill every detail of i ho rich man's equipage, and his purple fingers clasped one another tighter as he looked. " (111 !" !H thought, " how nice it imu-i to Inc rich—to have cushioned. and millet. \ er . v ! I wisit I were And 11(.11 shrant. closer into his cor ner.:, till' Vi'ill , llll.lo.l'reli lii> thin, Wlirli elothints and lifted the curls, with freezil_ foueh• front his forehead. Nor did :\lr. Alinnyne observe him Nvhen he entered his r earriage, dra\%il.l2; On lug 1•X] , ( . 11 - -. 1V(• 111.'2" alll , ) 11!2: the N4 .1 '(.1 CU-111.11, Nrith a -1101 SC:111 . 1`ly Icss caruost tilLtll little had Moen. The child', ideal of a "hid red lire" \vould have been quite realized if he eott!..l lutve -eett the starlet shine that .Mr. .\liaytie•s luxurious dr:iNvitp;-roono, ihat uisht , lowittu. alal , a-tey :111,1 wall , ( H . rose and uitt ilih , iu-t I),•tl,re the denial flame, the pale wid 4o.ver th ,, u2ht fully waieltilw: the Ting -pirk (s•ry ill I \ V.Zl,l‘.l' \ V Ilk t n a me Ine think of flume just that," he - murmured, idly I:tpping his fm.l 1111(111 the velvet. rug. "I \yonder \vital alchemy conittrett up the old lodise tinder the \valuta trees, ii,o kyliere the willow 1,1%111,11r,, .NVE•iS; 'the NVLltt . r — the lirldge \\there little Willis used to sit and study her lessons, while I angled vainly for the iishes that never wotilti bite! !low lovolv she was, that golden-It:tired Jrl, witil her Lillie-veined foreheitil, and dark, downcast eyes! I was very much ill 11,Ve With (tiara NVillis in those boy- ;soil-girl days. I should like to know on what shore the waves of time have rest her harime. It is not often that a person one has known in lang sync van ishs so entirely ;Id utterly from one's horizon. Poor CI:Ira! what glittering, air palaces we built in the future—how sol enly we plighted our childish troths! wilco I came Marl: with the fortune on whose golden coloololes our fairy cnstle of happiness upreared its 'attacks, ,he was gone. And mary was a gout wife to me, and a true one; lint she \ VZIS not Clara Willis." 1s the thought pitsseil through leis Hrziin, he he-tinetly glinievil \vii nt the linger upon Nvhieh he wore Hie he troth:ll gin of \vife. The ring L. 011,. "Lost—it enn't he lost, he murmured to himself', tryin, to think when and where he had last observed it. " 'an it have dropped from my finger without knowleili2;e? I must 11,,tiry the 1)0- 1n(•1, and have it advertised.— l'oOr Mary's ring! I would not lose it twiev the value, and that would lie n” mean sun'!" It WaS a narrow and murky little sum, with here and there a dim lamp l'aring feebly through the white obscu rity of the driving snow ; hut. little Ben Morrow lttnew every one of its covered liag,tones hy heart, and ran whistling down the alley-way of a tall, weather stained building, undaunted by wind or t em petd. `NOc, sis, what a jolly glove I've found he ejaculated, driving sudden ly into it narrow doorway, and c•outing upon a small room, only half lighted by a kerosene lamp, which sat a young woman, lacdly at work. Ilal - is the lire " Wrap this old sllztwl ❑rotnul you, Ilea,' said the woman, looking up with a smile that partook more of tears.than mirth, "anti you won't mind the cold so much. ~\ll the coal is gone, and. I can't buy any more until I am paid fur the caps. Did you sell and• more match- "Only two fl'oxes," sighed the boy. " I \\ A , SO COM, Clara, that I c(mltin't ;_ , ..n,und to the houses." Well, never mind, Ben," she said, 'cheerfully. "fit dose ''to ke , .l) each other warm. ()II Ben. 1 =huuhl like to have given you a nice wLule coat fOr Don't cry, sis," said the Loy, lean ing his head against her knee. "Didn't you give me your shawl fur a rounfortel., only lost it that windy day? You're just as good and sweet as you ran be, Clara, and I love yOl.l just :Is well as if you were my whole sister instead of one hall a one !" flu smiled through her tears. " \V hat ww, it about a glove, Ben ? He sprang suddenly up as if remem- " A gentleman dropped it in the street. 1 ran after the carriage, but it went too fast for me to catch up. Isn't it nice, sisr "Very nice, Ben." She drew the fur glove abstractedly on her hand, and looked at the rich, dark fur. "Why, Ben, what's this?" Her finger had come in contact with something in the little finger of the glove, and she drew it out. Even by the dim light of the lamp she saw the myriad sparkling facets of a diamond ring. " The gentleman must have _drawn it off with his glove," she said, while little Bev, stood by, in surprise and delight. *lti4,clt - z -. ( VOLUME. " Ben, this is very valuable. We ought to return it to the owner at once." " How can we, if we don't know who he is?" said Ben. " It will be advertised, dear; every effort will be made to recover so valua ble a jewel. To-morrow morning you must borrow a newspaper, and and we will look at the advertisements." " Sister," said Ben, under his "is it very Valuable? It is worth a Hundred dollars?" IMIt! "Oh ! Clara," he sobbed, burying his face in her lap ; " a hundred dollars would be so Mee! I wish it wasn't wrong to keep it'" Clara did not answer. She only smoothed down her little brother's tan gled curls, and he never knew how hard it was for ]ter ti, keep back: her own tears. Mr. Almayne was walking impatient tip and down his long, glittering suite of rooms in the Christmas brightness of till' next day's noon, when his portly footman presented himself in the door way. Well, Porter:"' " There's a young person and a little boy down , tairs, about the atlder tise•inent." 'Ask them to walk in, Porter." Porter glanced duhiou,ly at the velvet chair , and Wilton c;trpet. " Tla•y're very shabby and muddy, sir" " Never mind sho - d them in.' Porter departed, by no means pleased, niol in il.Mite or Iwo threw open the door, and announced-- "Theyoutigperson and the [At " Resumed," said Mr. A Imayne, emir teously. "('an you give me any infor mation in regard to the ring 1 have • Ben Morrow's sister 14as wrapped in a aled shawl, with a thick, green veil over her face. She held out the fur glove, and within it a little paper box, from which blazed the white fire of the hot " lirother found it in this ,glove, lint night, sir," :lie sititl, in a tintitl vpiee. "The initials—:\ A. correspond with your ailvertisenteut, so we brought it :It once to the :41(2(.1. and 'mother specitleit." -\luia\'u u 1 nwl lii pocket 1 hiivc Inwr il l 11, said, taking. out a iiity (14,11:tr NVill this lw Karl: I s v.•ii. \Ve art , curt/ poor, "hurt not so poor as to take a I'CNV aid FM' dt6tig 1)111 duty. Thattl: pott nil the sNitte. Otute, Henry A Inutyne's cheek had grown very :1,4 11, saw the goblin krai4ls aial clear Ultie SWeet first I“Vt' IWIW:101111Cnided 1,1:1i•k (Tara " Clara po-ssihle that yeu do not know Flu turns if at I i.;Nvild exchtniat.loii, iindLitzed It him with ,lawiling it he that you are 1 Icury :he falturtql, only half certain or the E•nrre,tne::: other culljcutllfe. t4mk Will her II:11111S ll . ll , krly and reverently in his. If she had been a dueliess, the action (amid not have bleu more full resp,t. "Clam, do not ,go yet," hesaid, plead ingly. Let me unravel this strange enigma of our two lives! Oh! Clara, if this Christmas day has, indeed, brought me the sunsliine \vilich never vet irradiated iny life, I shall bless it to my life, I shall bless it to my (lying day ! The low sun flamed redly in the west before Mr. Almayne's carriage—the very one which lien had so ignorantly admired the flight before—was ,urn mooned to carry 'lara and her brother, for the last time, to their squalid home. For, ere the New Year dawned above the wintry cart h, ra' was married to the man who had courted her underthe green willows that overhung the wood en bridge, ten weary years ago. It was a very short engagement—and yet it was a very long one! And little l'ien Murrov,", btu-king in the reflected sunshine of his half sis ter's happiness, found Out what it was to he rich! A Happy Home The first year of married life is a most important era in the history of man and wife. Generally, as it is spent, so is almost all suhsequent existence. l'he wire tol the husband then assimilate their views and their desires, or else, conjuring- upon their dislikes, they add fuel to their animosities forever after wards. " I have somewhere read, - says Rey. :\ fr. \Vise, in his Bridni treetings, "of a Itridegroom who gloried in his eccen tricities. Ile requested his bride to ac company him into the garden, a day or two after their wedding. lle"then drew a line over the roof of their cottage. 'dying his wife one end or it, he re treated to the other side, and exclaimed : Pull the line." 11111. pulled it at tv:pie , t, so tsar she conic!. lie riled Pull it ovcr." I can't," she replied "But pull with all your 'night," still shouted the whimsical husliand. But in vain were all the etl'orts of the bride to pull over the line, so long as her husband held the opposite end. But when lie came round, and they pulled at the saute end, it came over with great There!" 11, the line fell from the root', " you gee how lnlrd and incll'eetual our 1:11,or when We both palled lit opposition to ezteli kit how ezts and ple:is,[lll it was \\ lien We boil:pulled tee:t•thei: ! it will he so with es through life!" In this Must ratiotl, homely as it may be, there is sound philosophy. Ens t,and and wife must mutually bear and concede, if they wish to make home a retreat of joy and bliss. One alone can not make home happy. There needs unison of action, sweetness of spirit and great forbearance and love in both bus hand and wife, to secure the great end of happiness in the domestic circles. Home is no unmixed paradise of sweets ; the elements of peace and true happiness are there, and so, too, are the elements or discord and misery; and it needs only the hitter spirit of the world without to make it a pandemonium, o the loving genius of harmony to mak it the prompter of every affectionate impulse. " Stockings I can do without so long as I wear fashionable dresses," said a village belle somewhat straitened in her financial resources, " but a bosom pin and kid gloves I must have." A Western editor offered his devil a dime a week, or a share in the paper ; the cute young chap unhesitatingly took the dime. Naming the Bab) BY CLAIRE WINCHESTER " What will thee call her, friend Robert ?" The smiling young city gentleman of whin this question was asked, widened the curve of his lip by a broader smile, as he replied in a cherry voice, " I don't know, Aunt Rebecca, that we shall find any name good enough ;" and then the laugh in his heart gushed out in a mer ry leap, and broke into waves of music, that floated in the air until they melted away in the rays of the sun. That beautiful June had brought rare gifts of rosy-crowned days and peaceful nights, of singing birds and incense of roses, but for one home it had held a more precious gift than all, even a little human life, whose faint cries had been the key-note in many hearts to a very. sweet song of thanksgiving. It wasa very pleasant home and warm hearts that welcomed thelittle stranger: —Robert Wilson, Aunt Rebecca, the kind Quakeress, the gentle mother, and Willie and Ray, baby's brothers.— 'Willie was a stout manly boy, always playing colt, and whipping his little square boots to put more life into them. Ray NVZISI , nIy three, but his great black eyes opened wider and wider at all the new things he discovered, or thought he did, and that was just as well.— Willie and Ray hail been a fine little span, but baby interfered there, for Ray had eyes and ears nothing else but her. Ile would watch over it very ten_ derly when Aunt Rebecca laid it in the crib, and though he was one day de tected in the act of slipping a lump of sugar between its lips, and again smooth ing its bare head with the clothes brush, yet these things only proved his love, and found so ready an echo in other hearts, that no reproof was administered to the young rogue. But Ray soon found that something ~ w as wanting, and one day, after his eyes had been for a long time studying the face in the cradle, and his mamma's eyes as intently watehing him, and wondering with a mother's earnestness what her boy would learn to love to look upon in those years that seemed so far away, when the thoughts of man hood should , irive away childhood cares, he turned quickly, saying : Ina; not an . \ - name; thaCstmHNtd:' ° Nova, Ilay was one ofthose busy minds which, having. ogee found a new idea, follows it to the end, and often during the day he would go, !WM' to mamma, hen to .Aunt Rel,eca, begging a name for the hal,y, until he \V ( lola to wait patiently until cVelling, and they would talk tthout,it. soon as tea was Over, all were gathered in )Ir. \Vilsou's quiet parlor, hal.y with wide open eyes lying in Aunt IZebeeea's hip, when Rae began all at once: " Papa, what ntaiCes hahy's eyes so hlue? Is it beeate-e they have not haled out like mamma's?" Sow ilk 11 IZLIIIR has hltZeleyeS, so of course, - they all laughed at Rey, and he made haste to change the subject, and remarked that liaby,,had no Ilall "Ali, sure enough," said Mi. - Wilson, "anti bahy is too important a person to he slighted," and at once began an inti mated discussion lietWeen the members of the faintly, while the little uncon scious subject closed her blue eyes in an infant's quiet sleep. _Names there were in plenty—fancy, high-sounding names, or those which seemed only lit for fairies to bear. May seemed just suited to her golden ha,iT ; hut then Mzty was so common. Victoria S.:IN - Orel I too Intleh of royalty for a re publican Italic. Katharine was a family Dante, Out there were several cousins, Kitty and Kate already, so that would not do, and thus the list grew long; hut against each One was some objection, and they were " laid on the table," as much mightier questions have often been. "Call her Peggy, mama," at last call ed out Ilay, that name hcing.suggestive to him of welting seed cakes anal fresh buns: hut tieing again the unfortunate subject of laughter, poor Ray hill his face in the sofa cushions and made faces to his heart's content. The long twilight vanished before the full moon, and silence, full of content, gathered with the evening shadows.— The nameless little Imby, with her face flooded with the moonheams, had brought a elitim into the hearts of others too dal, for words. Just so might the " Babe Pietlehein have slept in his mother's arms more than eighteen hun dred years aim—that wonderful babe, who would hear, through all time, the names of i• Print,'" and " King," and the sweetest of till, ".• , aviour." flow could hearts covered with the rust of the world he silent with a memory like that. But that quiet sleep over, and rest lessness took. its place.. All through the night the little one moaned in her sleep, and with the morning light came the sad truth to loving hearts that Heaven would soon claim its own again, and leave that pleasant lino desolate. Not lone th. , y wailed, for when the first snub, atn came as a co to their grief into the room, they rested upon the chilled form of th'e darling babe. 'With Death as helmsman it had launch ed its tiny hark on another sea than that of time; and though all believed that the same Babe of llcthlchem," would save it front harm, yet it was only the eye offitith that could see the saviour through so thick shadows. Kind friends dressed the tiny form in pure white robes, and laid her away to sleep among the green grass and waning roses. Very lonely seemed the pleasant rrmin as they gathered here at twilight, and Hay's voice grew soft as she-said: " Mama, baby-did not leave any MUM' here ; the angels will give her one now she's gone to them. But how shall we know what to call her when we see her there Ali, Ray, that question has puzzled older heads than your's or mine, and will until we hear the " new name" given to those who, with all meekness and humility, have worn it on earth in their foreheads, though unknown to men and unknown even to themselves. IRISH EcoNomv.—At the late Assize in Ireland two men were condemned to he hanged. On receiving their sentence, one of them addressed the judge, and said he had two favors to ask him. " What are they ?" said his lordship. "Please your honor," said Pat, "will you let me hang this man before I am hung myself?" " What is the other request?" said the judge. " Why, pleaseyour honor," continued Pat, " will you let my wife hang me, for she will do it more tenderly than the hangman, and then what she will receive for the job will help the poor cratur to pay her lint." LANCASTER, PA:, THURSDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 22, 1864. flxo~ hI to ous. The Wonders of Cambodia In the London Athenccum for July al there is an account by one Dr. A. Bas tian of a" journey recently made to Cam bodia, in Farther India, giving some very interesting information about that distant and little known country. The great marvels of Cambodia are the enormous ruinsof Nahkon, of which Dr. Bastian says: " They arc frequently termed the `mysterious ruins,'and there is cer tainly a good deal that is strange and curious about them; but the most curious appears to me the fact that they have so long remained entirely hidden from travelers and orientalists. There is a short notice in a paper of a mediaeval writer (De Mancanedo) that "durinr , ' his sojourn in Cambodia in the year 1570 the servants of the king happened to discover in the depths of a forest there mains of an immense city, adorned with sculpture of fantastic animals, and bear ing inscriptions which nobody could read. This city he calls Anc , ' cor ; and Ankhor, or more correctly, IN - anknon ( the Indian Naghara) is the name of those ruins which only a few years ago - were re-discovered, having been forgot ten for more than two centuries. There is, however, no reason to wonder at the obscurity which they were buried in, if we reflect on the state of geographi cal knowledge regarding Cambodia, of which country one might say that no thing was known at all, and scarcely the name of that great lake which now shows itself so fruitful an object for ex ploration." The history of the country is perfectly silent on these ruins, and the natives ascribe their building to the gods. " Phra-In (the India of Brahminical mythology) relates the legend, sent Ph ra Phryttakam, or Vitsanukan, to raise this place and prepare it for the royal residence of one of his numerous sons, the offspring of a flirtation with a lady of the terrestrial world. As the other gods would not allow this hop, in whorl they smelt the man, to remain in heaven, his divine sire, to console hint for the loss, had a city constructed on ea; th, in perfect imitation of the. tately halls he was obliged to quit. Others say that Nakhon Vat copies in its de sign only the stable of Erawaddi, a fa vorite e lephant of India; but as, in l'ltra India, the stables of the white elephants often equal the habitations of the kings, the di (erenc)? is M . small ae (aqua'. "These palaces bear the traces of the gnudy colors and the rich gilding which were once used to cover the statues of the polymorphous deities with a multi plicity of hands and arms, but they are now stripped of their ornaments, and stand in solitude, abandomd and for saken. On the highest platform of the central tower at the Cambodian struc ture is enthroned the four-fold figure of _Buddha ; and when the great patriarch Buddha gliosa, with his train of shaven looks, entered the sumptuous colon:Ades of this palace, cherished as their heredi tary abode by a long line of kings, then the temples of idolatrous sacrifices fell, and the old classical name of Inthapat thhuri was 0111111g0d into that of Vat, ( t he City of Monasteries, ; which thence forth became tt convent dedicated to the priesthood. • '"che ancient inscriptions are con sidered unintelligible by the present Cambodians, but more from laziness and fear of mental exertion, as the let ters, although of a moreantiquated form, tire generally similar enough to the Pali, told the words in most rases differ from those now in use,. One or the other event recorded in these inscriptions may perhaps still give a clue to historical facts connected with these ruins, as nothing of that kind is to be hoped for from the written history of Cambodia, which begins withthe Cambodian kings removing to thoir new capital of Bastin or Panompen, and thence to Lawek. They had left the the fertile plains ex posed to the inroads of the Siamese, who ..111S1 tllOll began to break forth from their native mountains, and retired into the inaccessible swamps' round the shores of the great lake." "The traditions I collected from the people in Cambodia speak of the son of a king of Mullah, who banished his country, married the daughter of the dragon-k inf, in Kamphuxa-Thibodi, the great country horn out of the water, and according to Javanese, who likewise alludes to anancient colony from Rohm, settled at (the mountain oft Stmttng Kedang, their first civilize'', the( holy 'l'riresta, was married to Bramani Kali of Kamboja. If Indian inscriptions could he believed, Raja Deb, Pal Deb of the Para dynasty in Bengal, added Kandakia to his conquests in the ninth century, and the victorious Smell is brought there hy the annals of the Ma lays. In the tenth century Cambodia constituted flourishing empire, strong enough to conquer parts of Tonquin, and it even checked the progress of Kuldai Mum, who, it is said, attracted by its wealth, sent all army against it. The Cochin Chinese historians, how ever, ascribe the honor of conquering the Tartar conqueror to their own king, Ishingishiouen. After the dismeinher meth of the prosperous monarchy, over which the 1-Faharaja of Zabedj had sway ed his sceptre, a constant and intimate intercourse was ke - pt up between the ma ritime portson the I ndiaandeasternseas, by the fleet of the Siem, who had been taught to excel in navigation hy Malay settlers in Chiampa. 'l'lle Malay Cheri tas describe their proud capital, throng ing on the waves, and give a Javanese mother to Raja Tignak. The name of Seim was afterwards adopted by (the Thai in •- , itun, which country was for merly kIIOIVII as Nawi or Lawa. The pedigree of Pauji, the favorite hero of romances and plays in Java, was en nobled by his descent from a 1 I indu prineOSS, • NV 110111 his royal father wooed during a stay in Kalinga ; \Vutu halm, the first brahmana of the Scwa caste, who settled in Bali, came frOl» :1101 1 110 Kingsof Madura, the Ptolemies of the East, and long beMre that trou t entertained intercourse with Europe by emhassies, as well as the sovereigns of Ceylon. This latter island has al ways exercised a great influence on the countries of Ultra India, and before devastated by the Damila, rivaled in the splendor of its temPles both Cambo dia and .Java, whose emperors, like those of Menangkabau, transferred the classical name of Lankapuru to their own countries. The dynasty which preceded the Malay'o Javanese one, in Singhapura, had received the kingly title from ( 'eylon of Singlia, the Isle of Lions." "'Tie description given by a Chines officer, who traveled through Camleelis in the year 1295, is too interesting to he omitted here, because, notwithstanding the ruinous state of the buildings at the present time, its details can still be ver ified in nearly every particular. "flie cipital,' he says, `had five gates, each double ; the chief one had two open ings—the others only one. Beyond the gates there was a great ditch. From the ditch were causeways of communication with the great bridges. On each side of the bridge were fifty statutes of stone, representing their deities. These were very large, and, like statutes in general, they had a menacing aspect. The five gates were all alike. The pillars of the bridges were of stone, and adorned with figures of serpents. Each serpent had nine heads. Each of the fifty-four stat ues held a serpent in his hand, to ward off those passing. Over the gates were large busts of Buddha of stone. Each bust had five faces, looking towards the west. The one in the centre had a gold hetid dress. On each side of the gate were figures of an elephant carved on stone." Why io talking with the fingers like a man who is always changing his opinions ? Because it is a specimen of human mute-ability.- Argument in company is generally the worst sort of conversation, and in books the worst sort of reading. "What Cheer." We are constantly cheered with such evidences of the zeal, the.vigor, and the confidence of Democrats in all parts of the country' that it is our duty to make the filets known to all our friends who are hard at work, each in his own vi cinity, and who may desire to know " what cheer" comes from fellow-work ers beyond their own range of observa tion. 1. Everywhere the nomination of Gen, McClellan has roused the utmost enthu siasm in the ranks of the Democracy. Every Democratic vote will be polled in November, and no one needs to be' told that victory perches upon the ban ners of a party whose candidates elicit a full party vote. Moreover, the young men are with us everywhere. The young men who have become of age since the last presidential election will vote the young men's ticket. "Little Mac" is the man they want for President. 2. The defections from the Republi can party are increasing daily, and they have only begun to be counted. Our correspondents write us from almost every State of this man or that man:, prominent in his city or county, who voted for Mr. Lincoln in 18W, but who will vote for MeClelkin in November. The cicanges of this sort which are well known of in this city will be matched in every other city in the North. Party ties are straw to American citizens, when Icy disregarding them a vote can he given for 1 and peace. We hear of sev eral distinguished men, recognized lead ers in this and adjoining States, who have strained a point to support the Ad ministration while it was charged with the responsibilities of pivernment, who will seize the opportunity to vote out the men who have so wretchedly failed to discharge their responsibilities.— These men mean not only to vote for, hut to work hard for the election of (len. McClellan. 3. The influence which thedischarged and disabled soldiers of the republic arc exerting in favor of Cleneral McClellan is tremendous. Every one of them has his circle of friends and they are making proselytes by the hundred. The cal umnies of the Lincoln organs against their favorite commander only inflame them into more ardent exertions. Sol diers who have served in the Army of the Potomac can't listen to these whole sale slanders with much patience, and there are enough of them scattered over the country to nail every new lie to the counter as fast as it is uttered. 4. IVe speak what we know when we say that there will he no defection from the ranks (tithe Democratic party worth considering—no " bolt" worth counting. The mistake made by our anxious Re publican friends, and by the few bolters themselves, was in supposing that the tyintwratie masses wanted peace at the expense of the Union ; that they would for a moment think of purchasing peace at the price even or a moment's peril to the - Union—at the price of one hour's risk of disnuion. Gentlemen of the ad ministration party, you reckoned with out your host. You made the ',hinder of believing your own slanders of the patriots arrayed against you! And mark ! For every disunion "bol ter" who has left us, and so purified the party, one hundred Union and peace loving men will march (ail of your ranks into ours! 5. The pledge of the Chicago platform, which Gen. MeCLELLAN accepted, of course, when he accepted the nomina tiou of the Chicago Convention, was that One earnest, frank, and fraternal etihrt should be made for peace—for peace if possible " without the effusion of another drop of blood "—for the peace which every honest and intelligent man would hail with unbounded joy " for peace on the basis of the Union—the condition sin, ninitium. And whenever there is good reason to believe that the rebels are " ready for such a peace "—in name, should we not make all haste to give them peace?" Will any Republican who loves his country and his fellow-men answer us that ? This is what the "peace sentiment of the Democratic party " means. We share this peace ijentiment, aVoW it, Mill now at all dines trill llphOldalid defend it. This is all that it means. There is no division in our ranks. If any man who has called himself Denwerat means more than this—which is fairly implied in the lillicliralalSed Chicago platforlii, and clearly expressed in the much-praised letter of acceptance of (;en. :\lcChillan—then he is a Demo crat no longer. And we wish to he understood as meaning precisely what we say when we add that this, and nothing but this, is the peace sentiment of the great West, and that, in full and satisfied expression of this sentiment, the whole Democracy of tlie West will cast its vote for McClel lan and Pendleton next November, God sparing their lives. Washington's Great Victor) W hen G c(,rge - Washington was a boy he wanted to enter the navy. Like many other ihoys, he wanted to go to sett. 1114 inmlicr gave her consent ; and yet it WitS plain she M . P.'', not willing to have him go. A midshipman's com mission had been got for him, and the vessel was about, to sail. The servant was at the door with his trunk. He went in to say good bye to his mother. He found her in tears. He saw the look of distress that was in her face; but she said not a word. That, was enough for He went out and said to his ser vant, " Carry hack my trunk to my room. I will not break my mother's heart to please myself." He gave up his commission and stayed at home. When his mother heard what he had done, " George," she said, " God has promised to bless those who honortheir parents, and He will bless you." How true her words were ! God did bless George Washington, and made him a blessing to his country and the world. Washington gained many vic tories afterwards, but this was, perhaps, the most important victory he ever gained. He conquered the Britishfat Trenton, at Monmouth, and at York town ; but when he gave up his own will to please his mother, he conquered hinisclf. The Bible tells us, "He who suleth his spirit is greater than he that taketh a city." THE BEAUTY OF A BLUSH.—Goethe was in company with a mother and her daughter, when the latter, being re proved for some fault, blushed and burst into tears. He said : " How beautiful your reproach has made your daughter. The crimson hue and those silvery tears become her bet ter than any ornament of gold or pearls. These may be hung on the neck of any woman. A full blown rose besprinkled with the purest dew is not so beautiful as this child, blushing beneath her pa rent's displeasure, and shedding tears of sorrow at her fault. A blush is the sign which nature hangs out to show where chastity and honor Our Debts and Resources---Let the People Read this! [From the New York World.] In order to judge of the relative mag nitude of our debt, we must first lay before our readers a table of the value of the real and personal property of the loyal states, by the census in 1860. And in examining this, there are sev eral things to be attended to. This list includes Kentucky, Missouri,Maryland, &c., which will come out of the war completely devastated, and requiring years to recover their former agricul tural state. And this table, which we take from page 195 of Mr. Kennedy's report, pro fesses to give the true value, which is one-quarter more than the assessed value of the same property given in another table of the same report. Ho man's Bankers' Magazine for January, 156.4, gives the assessed value of real and personal property in the loyal States in 1862 i including Kentucky, West Vir ginia and Missouri at 87,693,010,597. This is far below the census estimate of 510,556,000,000 ; but we take the lat ter as most favorable to : rit1if0rniik....8207,874,613 New York _81,849,i - 138,517 CMIncotiCIII.. 444,274,114 i niiii 1,193,898,4= I elm wii re 16,242,151 i ircgiiii 28,930,1137 Illinois 171860,262 Pe n ii sy.lva- Iniliatut 428,833,371 i ni a 1,416,501,818 lowa 217,:a8,211.5 Itkoile rslanil 175,337,58.8 Kansa. 91,327,895 Vermont 122,477,170 Kent ucky...., 666,013,112 Wisconsin__ 273,971,428 Main, 199,211,80 c, ni,t Het of 1111 .- I:knd 376,91!1,9-1-ii H - N 1)11.1: n . . . . . . wits , Z15,2:17,1:ti New Mexico. 20,A13.788 Miiiiie,ola ... :257.M5,9 , :31. - tali .5,.1911,118 NI issi aid :,x11;114,348 r Washi ngt on. 5,601, iiiii New Hanqe i \V. Virginia, .hire I:3B,:ilii, , ina i I sii'2. , 151,10,1,267 New Jersey.. iti7,91,,321 i , 111.5.56,5611,7 , 0 The whale of the T'aited State, ,1ti,159,61.),11M The personal and real property are not separately given ; but if the propor tion is the same as it was in the census of the personal would amount to 54,89.4,:i7n,u0tt, and the real to :ri6,157,- 995,00 u. In estimating our debt, we prefer to go back to a speee.li made by the Hon. Garret Davis, in the United States Sen ate,..fune Mr. Davis is no Abo litionist, hut a Union Whig of the Henry Clay school, and we do not recollect that his estimate of the debt was attempted to be controverted either the Senate or by the 'newspapers.— His estimate then was : . Debt as,, and stnted, )lay II APProPriatimts , t l r , a , tY 'tun' , Intl not cot called for, as per S,•rrc_ IC= 11111,, already voted lion]) ties to soldierz; raised sinve of 106.000 hundrefl-da - , 111,11. vatted into sers ice since his rc- tnn lln tnivert 75,000,000 'llrrcticy 111 ptty interest 'ever ottl, 411,000,0011 niter debts ;11111 :1111,1,prialitqls... 1011,1/110,010 To explain this table, it is necessary to remark that the debt, as from time to time reported by the Secretary of the Treasury, includes only the money ac tually hired on bonds, with the treasury legal tenders, and other items which have been actually settled, and an ac count made of them at the treasury. Of tins debt, the interest on the larger part is payable in Groin; the interest on another part, being the temporary loans, is payable. in legal tender•; and another portion t the currency notes over five hundred million, hears no interest. The appropriations uncalltql for, and defici encies in former appropriations, will lie readily understood. And after deduct ing the coin the government may re ceive from customs, &c., the remainder of the annual interest on the debt must be met by purehase of coin with paper money, or by an addition to the actual debt. Secretary Chase's own estimate for a year'sexpensesof the nation wasSl,lsl,- 81.5,0n0t lint this is far below the mark. We have now a costly Indian war on our hands, growing out of the dishones ty of government officers, in addition to the civil war. And our pension list is increasing rapidly, so that the annual amount required for pensions will lie enormous. The pay of the army has been increased, and the , cost of support ing the army, which in the beginning of the war was estimated at :sl,ono per man per annum, has been greatly in creased by the rise in the price of every thing to Is purchased. The tiniest es timate of the cost of the a ar is tt-,:yto ono per day, anti many have estimated it as high as hut tier day is proltahly a fair estimate. Now ,utsider that our revenue from c ustom s m gold last year Nva.s ahout. ..-70,1100,0nii, and kill not prohahly vary much year---a stint not enough to I)ay the interest on the debt aff . ,ady in eurft.,l: ihat our revenue from sales of puhlic lands is reduced to :11111ost noth ing; that the internal reV01111(` 111:st year produced :',- , x7,ono,nuu, and although expected to average :•Sl,ouo,ullo per day under the new law, ]fa.; not VII, WO be lieve, conte near it, and anV 1111111, can calculate 11mv fast Net• are approatling to insolVellCV. In the beginning of the war it was the fashion to talk about out resources. True, they were great. We are a young nation, and if the• war could end now we could probal.ly recover from it with out repudiation. lint how much longer can wo Beta• it It our Northern peo ple hail economized, as the rout hero peo ple had been obliged to do, the mere savings from this source would have made a large contribution toward the national service. Rut, instead of econo mizing, we have been more extravagant than ever. Almost every item we have brought from abroad has been money thrown away, and although the Gov ernment gets the duties in coin, it is a process, which, if you will trace it out, really weakens the Government and de moralizes and impoverishes the people. Our rulers have ;been very—shrewd in the matter of laying taxes. Farmers and real estate owners have been direct ly taxed hut little, but upon them it must fall at last. In a few years a large proportion of the personal property will be in vested in government bonds, which cannot be taxed. Your rich men will thus largely escape. The real estate cannot lie put away out of sight. And the new internal revenue law was not passed until it was so late that the people will not realize its burdens much until the Presidential election is And if, as there is reason to believe, the Treasury Department has, from ne cessity, been lately paying out large amounts of currency notes, this of itself tends to increase prices of every thing the government has to purchase, and thus to add largely to the daily expen ses of the war. We are living in a state of fictitious prosperity. True, people are everwhere employed: but who employs theni? The government employs them, and their very employment is only adding to the burdens of the debt which the people must by and by bear, and of which the laborers themselves must bear probably an over proportion here after. Hon. Henry Wilson, of Massaehusetta (Republiean) r when asked in the United States Senate, in March, 1864, by Mr. Conness, what had brought about this state of things, replied very truly : The reason is that Congress has not taxed the people, and raised money, and paid the expenses of the war as we went along. We have created an immense debt, tilled the country and flooded the country with paper money, inflated prices, and stimulated speculation, extravagance, and luxury.— And this policy has cost the people hun dreds of millions more to live than it would if we had taxed them heavily, and it has cost them millions more to support the war. Now, allowing the customs and in ternal revenue next year to bring in three hundred and fifty millions, which is probably a very large estimate, shall see how fast we are running in debt—receiving about a million, and expending four millions, per day. Let us see. Debt- is estimated above 52,600,at0,010 Add ten months more at an excess of expeuses over humme of 5i.:3,- 01.10,000 per auy 900,000,0i10 We will owe in March, 1865 Compare this with the whole proper ty of the loyal States, as given in the Bankers' Magazim , or even with the very large estimate given in the census, and the interest on this debt at six per cent. will be $210,000,000 a year. - We have always contemplated with astonishment the immense debt of Eng land, and expressed great commisera tion for her people. But the interest of the whole English debt ( mostly at threc per cent.) is only $l3 ,000,000. But the above estimate of our debt is far from giving us a true idea of what we shall have to bear. Even if the war should end now, there is an immense amount of unsettled claims to be brought in ; claims for property taken by officers for govern ment use, and, probably largest of all, the claims of loyal citizens for damages to property suffered in consequence of the war. Then the (daily's of foreign governments for losses incurred by theii• citizens by illegal captures. The gen eral government will also be expected to assume all the debts which the States have incurred for the war, and all the debts incurred by counties and towns for bounties. The small State of Rhode Island has a war debt of four millions, Connecticut eight millions, besides town debts, and from these specimens sonic idea may be formed of the war debt of the loyal States, counties, &c., to say nothing of the large debts which some of them owed before the war. Two thousand millions is a small estimate for all these ; anti thus if the war ends on the 4th of March next we shall have a snug little debt of s5,:500,000,000, equal to two-thirds of the whole property of the loyal States as given in the Pa nker. , i' Magazine, and to more than half of the same property as stated in the census report. If the South conies hack into the - Union, those States would be so impov erished that years must pass before tlitT could contribute to the national income. And then they have a large debt of their own, due to their own citizens and for eigners, which they would feel in honor bound to pay, if able, in case we (lid not assume it. And enormous appropria tions would be required to rebuild the lighthouses all along the southern coast, to repair the fortifications, and to open and render the harbors safe for com merce. El= BEMIES ..2,017,5 7(),92i; And yet again, the valuation of the property of the loyal States given in the census was made in the year IMO, be fore the financial embarrassments and devastations caused by the war. Since then the States of Missouri, Maryland, Kentucky, and \ Vest Virginia, included in that table, have been nearly ruined by the conflict of the hostile armies, and all the Northern States have suffer ed by embarrassment of trade and the loss of productive power. And when ever the war ceases and government ceases to employ our population in man ufacturing guns, &e., for the army, there is to be a great loss of the capital which has been put intit government manufactures, and probably a severe financial crisis, in changing from the occultations of war to those of peace, heightened and exaggerated by the de preciation of our paper money, the un certainty of prices caused by it, and by the attempts which will be made to re turn to a specie basis. And we cannot dismiss our army at once. The dis banding of it would occupy a long time, and in the meantime it must be paid. And a large portion of it must be retained in service permanently. We : have given our readers the means of estimating our condition. We prefer to leave it to thent to form their own opinions as to the result. - Whether, if the war continues, our debt will be laid or repudiated, must depend upon the virtue of Our people. We know that the debt being owned by a great null ber of people, in small sums, scattered all over the country, a large party will thus he created against re pudiation. lint it is safer to look at the past. Ottr revolutionary indebtedness was in the hands of all the people; the continental currency was held in stunts smaller or larger by almost every one, and yet this did not prevent its being scaled flown to forty for one. And again, our debt will be almost entirely held at the East. Will Western farmers be willing to be taxed to pay tribute as they will call it,) to the East, which is the only section of the country whose citizens have made money out of the war? Will they be willing to pay high duties to add to the wealth of Eastern manufacturers? It is for the interest of every holderof a bond to exert himself to compel the Administration to economize and to bring the war to a speedy conclusion ; and it is the interest of every voter to hurl the men from power but for whose accession to power we should never have had a war. CURIOUS FACTS A 130 C T WATER.—The extent to which water mingles with bodies apparently the most solid is very wonderful. The glittering opal, which beauty wears as an ornament, is only flint and water. The snow-capped sum mits of Snowdon and Ben Nevis have many million tons of water in a solidi fied form. In every plaster-of-Paris statue Which an Italian carries through our streets for sale, there is one pound of water to every four pounds of chalk. A wheat-plant exhales in a hundred and seventy-two days about one hun dred thousand grains of clear water. The sap of plants in the medium through which this mass of fluid is conveyed.— Timber in France is, for instance, died by various colors being mixed with water, and poured over by the root of the tree. Few have a more ready excuse for their homage than the Grecian sage, who being asked why philosophers al ways ran after rich men, while rich men never courted. philosophers, re plied, " because the latter know they want money, while the former haven't sense enough to know they want wis dom." NUMBER 37 • RATES OF ADVERTISING. Boarzuras..A.tetsarmaituxgrs 'Bl2 a' year per Rw.fractiEsTous.koTL a g f a ir so . PERSONAL p itopiawr, square of ten lines; ten per' cent. increase for and OEN vicarnmso, 7 cents a line for the Nand4 cents for each subsequent Inser- Pararrr llxotors - ss and other &dyer's by the column: One column, 1 year„.... ...... Half column, 1 year.........__ ........ SO Third colu.Mn, 1 year - '4O Quarter column, SO Busncrss CARDS, of ten lines or less, one year, 10 Business Cards, five lines or less, One year,. .... . . .. _ .. —...-...-.- 5 LEGAL AND OTHER IN eriaßli.—: Executors' notices 2.00 Administrators' notices, ........ „.... ' 2.00 Assignees' notices, 2.00 Auditors' notices 1.50 Other "Notices," ten Lines, or less, three times Useful Hints I. To eat when you do not want it, is brutal—nay, this is a slander on the lower animals ; they do not so debase themselves. 2. Do not enter a sick chamber on an empty stomach, nor remain as a watcher or nurse, until you feel exhausted, nor sit between the patient and the fire, nor in the direction of a current of air from the patient toward yourself; nor eat or drink anything after being in an in valid's room until you have rinsed your mouth. 3. Do not sleep in any garment worn in the (lay. 4. Most grown person areal& to sleep soundly over six hours in summer and seven in winter; to attempt to force more sleep on the system by sleep in the day time, renders the whole of the slumber disturbed and imperfect. 5. Some of the most painful stomach aches are occasion by indigestionst;„this generates wind, and hence distention. It is often remedied by kneading the abdomen with the hand, skin to skin, from one side to another, from the lower edge of the ribs downwards, whereby the surplus air is forced on and outwards along the alimentary canal. 0. 'When you return to your house front a long walk or other exhaustive exercise, go to the tire or warm room, and do not remove a single article of clothing until you have taken a cup of hot drink. • 7. In going into a colder atmosphere, keep the mouth closed, and walk with a speed sufficient to keep off chilliness. 8. Two pairs or stockings will keep the feet warmer than one pair of a greater thiCkness. I. The night sweats of disease come on towards daylight ; their deathly coldness is greatly modified hy sleeping in a sinle loose woolen shirt. 10. Those who drink a clip of tea or cotree, or other stimulant, in order to aid in the performance of any work, are fools; because it is to the body and brain an expenditure or what is not yet got. It is using powder in advanee, and this can never be done with impunity. 11. The less a man drinks in hot weather the better; for the more we drink, .the more we want to drink, until even iee-water fails, and becomes of a nuetallie taste. Hence the longer you can put off drinking colt water on the morning of a hot day, the hotter you will feel at night. 12. If you sleep at all in the day-time, it will interfere with your sleep at night much less If the sleep be taken in the forenoon. The Voice of the Shell -One who has never seen the ocean, nor heard the voice of its moaning waves, finds a miniature resemblance to its sad music as he applies to his ear the convulsions of a smooth-lipped sea shell, and listens to the murmuring cadences of its solemn monotone. That solitary shell, with its lips of pearl and voice of melody, seems still to hold communion with its home on the roll ing deep. It seems to echo ever more the songs it learned in its normal estate, in coral caves, amid scenes of beauty, and where all voices are sweet and har monious. And it echoes the sigh of the sail, sad sea, it seems longing and yearn ing for its (wean home and life of melody. It breathes in its every accent the voice of solitude and home-sickness, and the remembrance of departed joys. Is there not something like this in the deep, earnest voices that are some times ut Lured front human hearts? In, the deep murmurs that sometimes arise from the soul's great struggle, there seents to be a mysterious communion with the former and better estate—a sweet, sail dream of Paradise and its blessed music, from which it has been separated. The Unutterable longings that will at times arise in the heart, and embody themselves in sighs and earnest aspirations, and intense desires for the good and virtuous, appear as a dream of the high and holy estate from which it has fallen, and a yearning prayer for restoration to purity and holiness, and peace. Anil the voices that murmur in the heart, wooing us to purity, and holt ness, and heaven, are the sweetest voices heard upon earth. They come down from the open gates of Paradise. They are voices of mercy and love. They invite to holiness and rest forever. Beauty of Turkish Women Lady Homily, speaking of dress and easy attitude, says: "Nothing that I have seen in life or in pictures can give the slightest idea of the wonderful grace, the extreme delicacy, and bird-of-para dise-like uselessness of the Turkish belle. Women of rank look like hot-house flowers, and are really cultivated to the highest perfection of physical beauty, having no other employment than to make their skins as snow-white, and their eye-brows as jet black as possible. When young their skin is literally as white as their veils, with the faintest tinge on the cheek, like that on the in side of a shell, which blends exquisitely with the tender apple leaf green and soft violet colors of which they are so fond. The reverse of the picture is, that, after the first bloom of youth is past, the skin becomes yellow and sickly looking, and you long to give the yash mak a pull, and admit a fresh breeze, to brighten up the fine features. A belle, and a beauty, too, the Turkish woman must he; for nothing call be more wretched than too see the poor thing attempting to walk, or to make herself at all useful. She shuffles along the ground exactly like an embarrassed paroquet, looking as if her loose garments must inevitably flutter oil at the next step. The drapery which falls so gracefully about her in a carriage, or while reclining on cushions, seems untidy and awkward when she is moving about. ]n fact, if she is not a beauty, and is not the property of a rich man, she is the most miserable looking creature possible. A - NEW IDEA..-4.t the State Alms house, Massachusetts, the manager of the farm beds his cows regularly with sand, which he considers superior to any other substance for that purpose. It is warm, easy to lie upon, prevents the cows from slipping when reaching for food, is an excellent absorbent of liquids, easily shoveled in and out, a superior divisor of droppings, and is an excellent subsistence to apply to cold lands. For these reasons he likes sand for bedding. —A very diminutive specimen of man lately solicited the hand of a fine buxom girl. " Oh, no," said the fair but in sulting lady, " I can't think of it for a moment. The fact is, John, you are a little too big for a cradle, and a little too small to go to church with." —We should not forget that life is a flower, which is no sooner fully blown than it begins to wither, _
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