Parka' =MO TOW ANP A: oittr on illorninp, (October 23, 1852. I , flutrit 46.4ttrzi. B assED ARE THEY TRAT MOURN. 111 WILLILIC C. IRT►BT. 0! deem not they are blest alone whose lives a peacefnl tenor keep ; ? he Power who pine: man, has sown A blessing for the ryes that weep. The light of smiles shall fill again The lids that overflow with tears ; A n d iiesry bows of woe and pain Are promises of happy years. There la I day of sunny rent For every dark and troubled night ; A n dre( mac hide an evening guest, Bel py shall come with early light. And!holi, who o'er thy friend's low bier Shei,leat the hitter drops like rain, Hope that a brighter, happier sphere Will give him to thy arms . again. r l e t the good man's trust depart, life Its common gifts deny ; liionh pierced and bmiam be his heart, And, spurned of men, he goes to die. For God has marked each sorrowing day, And numbered every secret tear AO heaven's age of bli-s shall pay For all its children, suffer here. From Clmber's Ed.ngburg'. Journal. TWO KINDS OF HON Es'nr s , rrie lee years a4o, there res•itterl m Long Acre " 4 i-centric old Jew named Jacob Benjamin ; he v. , A seed shop, in which he likewise carried on a common thing, we I.elteve, in London—the „ t ,„1 meal, and had risen from the lowest djegt , e dy. nalti.try and self-driial, till hearer", , e rf Hiluent tradesman. He was, indeed, a ;r, for as lie had ttei!lier wife nor child to h.i money. nor kith nur kin in borrow it or e ;,, a _resat deal more Mail he knew wh at 1,4v,h it of himself he could lint, for nut; to him. and his wants were ile A. , ;.I Vi c:eari and decent in hr dress. '. t -, e for el , ::Ar,ee or sp entfor in any '7m not 1!4,1 even tie plea-ures of the table any !,irn ; !i) ihal u lt,ou.2li ue 'vas no miser, b,. lone% kept on accurnol,itio2, whilst it occurred .„.„ sett and 'lien to 'under what he should do '4.11 hereafter One would think he need not tare wan ered long, when there were so many :erple !offering for the warn of what he abounded r • t , u , Mr fl , ryitnin. hottest man, had his errech.. e r st e other folks. It the first place, he had less am;elv with poverty than might have been ex- Pe'-te,l con.tilenno• how root he had once been • - • ht !elf bat he had a theory, just in the main. zoga by no means without exceptions—that the od.gent have generally themselves to thank for !reit rollmop. Judging from his own experience k.ettelltred there was bread far everybody who , ake the trouble of earning it ; and as he had had lode difficulty in resisting temptation himself. Tas not philoeopher enough to allow for the nie,er of human character, he had small coot paean for those who injured their prospects by it. Then he had found. on more than tleoccamon, that even to the apparently welkin. e.isnute was nor always serviceable. En two, was relaxed, at d' gratuities once received, v`e tatted for agaya, Doubtless, part of this evil . ...541‘va t o he sought in Mr Benjamin's own de tnotte of proceed ; but I repeat, he was tiptido.ophpr, and in matters or this sort could n o t at ?Inch farthet than hie nose, wch was, how eTPr. a very lone one. ruptittlic charities he sometimes subscribed 'the ft:l • Wins hand was frequently withheld by a intX fPgaidllig the judicious expenditure o 1 the bttl3 ar.ti thus doubt was especially fortified after rreletng to see one day, as he was passing the etnn and Anchor Tavern, a concourse of cr.'nm out with very flushed faces, who had been i.. , c;!ngeh er for the benefit of some savages in tleSoothern Pacific Ocean, accused of devouring tzetati flesh—a practice so abhorrent fo Sen. 1 7 0 . hat he had subr.crib.d for their conversion. nig to perceive the connexion betwixt the and ifiat desirable consummation, hip name tPitareJ hencefonh leas fiequently in printed lists. L "e fall more uncertain than belore as to • what ~ at unknown posterity he should bequeath hitiOra ne 1y r,e meantime, he kept on the even tenor 01 caridin g behind his counter, and serving 6cut omens assisted by a young woman called la:' Lee, who acted as h s shopwoman, and in to% en the whole, lie felt more interest than in A lYbody else in die world, insomuch that it soma- L b -Ported acmes his mind, whdher he should rcin4ke her the he;iese of all his wealth. He Hey- Ctoieter, gave her the least reason to expect th a'illag, being himself incapable df conceiving, rat "the entertained the notion, he ought to prepare Iv by education for the gond fortune that awaited lc Bat he never perceived this necessity, nor, it i ' e hAd, could he have liked to torte the service of i?etrun he had been so long accustomed to. at 'erirrih, one day a new idea struck him. He reading the story of his namesake, Benj..- the Old Testament, and the question occur. kiln I " many amongst his purchasers of the I^,!er ail who came to hisshop person' L ,!'ere rt(that c!ass—would bring back a piece calm; the 11, y mialit find amongst their meal, and ea4rit he should like to try a few of them that *vst4t tsgnlar customers. The experiment would .ta mmd. and the money he might lose by he dal not care for. So he began with shilling., in amongst the flour before ha handed Pnrchaser Rut the shillings never come Pe'l'ai"! ret People did not think so small s sum • inning ; so he went on to half crowns and t " ) , *1 : 1 , And now and then, in very particular CeVek "en r enlated a guinea ; but it witfr4lrlY6 With atii" ~ -......_ - ; ~'J~:. ~_ ..tom: :.GNEC~_yS%.l.^..eO:?lltr -~_ ....~.~ ~ .M.`. _. _..~~..,.-~'fil r - Jr'.~'ikL~e futis~:.9@l"J~kiS ? 6e.:.! ... , . - - . ..- _ ~1 ~ 1I 1 0 Lato ' 1 i . 4 .-:.;11 - «.ti. ztin__ io .i, , ,l7.lirieri I. It= ii. .. . i . J.f..i`..1(.,.....5 j.::• - ,, t..: , • z - .. , .. a .: . -..1 : .;,,i ' .:.:::.,:l.::;. , i ,, 1 ,V,;.., , =',:i 1 . :. • .. 4,1. t • ' ; .... _ rA - - ....._..... _ ,--4 ,- .. .,,.... . _ :.' . ; ::I : ''',4.:' , - .4 , ,•••••. z. o•-... • - -.J., ..... ... .•: . ,--...:- .. •., :• •:. • ilrl , ..-• - ;‘,.' ,11! .. 0 45: ...4...: ''' ' ' .. • _. ~. '.•. )• , i i:•-•:•• .'r 1 r• • . ~, 'l,-„, ' .- r•- 7.,•!1 -• •,/ .4• . .' . .1 .."., -... .4 - . . t , . . _ .. - 4-• . . , . . ~' . ..- _. , the same luck, and the longer he tried, the more he distrusted there being any honesty i i the world, and the more disposed he felt to leave all his money to Leah Ltiet, who had lived with him so long, and to his belief, had never wronged him c 4 a penny. " What's that you have put into the gruel, Mary 7" said a pale, sickly-looking man one evening, taking something ont of his mouth, which he belt) towards the feeble gleams emitted by a farthing rush-light standing on the mantle-piece. " What is it, father," inquired a yoong girt ap proaching him. " Isn't the gruel good 1" " It's good enough," replied the man ; " but here's something in it : it's a shilling, .1 believe." " a guinea!" repeated the man ; well, that's the first bit of luck I've had these seven years or more. It never could have come when we want ed it worse. Show it ns here, Mary." " But it's not oars, father," said Mary. " I paid away the last shilling we had for the meal, and here's the change " " God has sent it to us, girl 1 He saw our dis tress, and he sent it to us in His mercy !" said the man. grasping the piece of gold with his thin bony fingers. . " It mutt be Mr Benjamin's," retorned she.— " He mnst have dropped it into the meal tub that stando by the counter" '• How do you know that ?" inquired the Man: with an impatient tone and a half angry glance '• How can yon tell how it came into the gruel ?1— Perhaps it was lying et the bottom of the basin, or at the bottom rit the %mice pall. Moat likely it was." " U tte, father," Baia Mary ; " it is loageinee we had a guinea." " A guinea that we knew of ; hut I've had Alen: iv it; my time, and how do you know this is not one we had ovettooked I" o We've wanted a guinea too mach to overlook one," answered she. " Bin never mind, lather ; eat your ginel, and don't think of it : your cheeks are gelling quite red with talking en, and you won't ba able to sleep when you go to bed." . I don't exec to sleep," said the man peevish ly ; I never do sleep " " I tidal( you will, idler that nice gruel !" said Mary. throwing, her round his neck, and ten• detly kissinu his cheek. " And a guinea in it to gi%e rl a relish ton !" re. turned the lather, with a faint smile and an expres sion of archness, betokening an inner nature very different from the exterior, which sorrow and pov only had menaced on it His ((slighter then proposed thayhe should go to bed ; and having aaSisted him In/undress, and ftr. ranged her little household manias, she retired be hind a tattered, drab colored curtain which shaded her own mattress, and laid herself down to rest. The apartment in which this little scene occurred. was on the attic story. of a mean tinu4e, situated in one of the narrow courts or alleys betwixt the Strand and Drur Lane. The furniture it contained was of the poorest description ; the cracked win dow panes were coated with dust; and the scanty fire in the grate, although the evening was cold enough to make* large one desirable—all combin ed to testify to the poverty of the inhabitants. it was a sorry reheat for declining years and sick ness, and a sad and cheerless home for the fresh cheek and glad hopts of youth ; and all the worse, that neither father nor daughter was " to the man• or tam' ;" for poor John Glegg, had, as he said, had plenty of guineas in his time ; at least, what should have been plenty, had they been wisely husband ed. But Joh-, in describe the thing as he saw it himself, had always as had luck against him " It did not signify what he undertook, his undertakings invariably turned out ill. He was born in Scotland, and hail passed a great portion of his li.e there ; hut, unfortunately for him he had no Scotch blood in his veins, or he might have been blessed with some small modicum of the craition for which that nation is said to be dig. tinguished. His father had been a cooper, and when quite a ynong man, John hal succeeded to a well-established be-iness in Aberdeen. Hie privet pal commerce consisted in furnishing the retail dealers with casks, wherein to pack their dried fish ; but partly from good nature, and partly 'from indolence, he allowed them to run such long ac counts, that they were apt to overlook the debt alto gether in their calculations, and to iake refuge in bankruptcy when the demand was pressei 4 . and the supply of goods• withheld—his negligence thus proving, in its results, as injurious to them as to himself. Five hundred pounds embarked in a scheme projected by a too sanguine friend, for es tablishing a local newspaper, which " died ore it was born ;" and a fire, occurring at a time that John had omitted to renew his insurance, had 'ie. rionsly damaged his resources, when some matter of business having taken him to the Isle of Man, he was agreeably surprised to find that his branch of trade, which had of late years been alarmingly de clining in Aberdeen, was there in the most finer ishing condition. D.elighted with the prospect this state of affairs opened, and•eager to quit the spot where misfortune hail so unrelentingly pursued him, John, having first secured a house at Ramsay, re turned to fetch his wife, children, and merchandise, to his new home. Having freighted a small ves sel for their.conveyance, be expected to be deposit ed at his own door ; but he hadunhappily forgot, ten to ascertain 'the character of the captain, who, under pretence that, if he entered the harbor, he should prObably be wind-boom' lot several weeks, persuaded them to go ashore, in a small boat, pro mising to lie to till they had landed their goods ; but the boat had no sooner returned to the ship, than, spreading hie sails to the wind, he was soon nut of sight, leaving John and his family on the beach, with—to recur to his own 'phraseology—. " nothing but'what they stood up in." Raving with some difficulty found shelter for the night, they proceedo to Ramsay; but here it wts found that, owing to some informality, the poop!, who had possession of the house refused to give it up, and the wanderers were obliged to take refuge in anion.- The next thing was to Immo, and re- PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY ATTOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, EA.,, BY E. O'NEABA"VrOQDRICH. .;==:=l===gm= cover the lost goods ; knit some weeks elapsed be- fore an opportimity of doing so could be found ; and at length, when John did reach Liverpool, the cap tain had left it carrying away with hint &considera ble share of the property. With the remainder John, after many expenses and detsys, returned to the 'stabil, and resumed his business. But hescron discoverid to his cost, that the eatcufations he had made were quite fallacious, owing to his having neglected to inquire whether the late prosperous season had been a normal or an exceptionable one Unfortunately, it was the latter ; and several very unfavorable ones that succeeded, reduced the lama lyto great distress, and finally to utter min. Relinquishing his shop and hisgoods to hiscrecli tors, John Glegg; heart sick end weary, sought a refuge in London—a proceeding to which he , was urged by no prudential motives, but rather by the desire to fly as far as possible from the scenee of his vexations and disappointments, and becattse he had heard that the metropolis was a place in which a man might conceal his, poverty, and sutler and starve at his ease, ontmobled by impertinent end osity or oflicibus benevolence ; and, above all, be lieving it to be the spot where he was least likely to fall in with any of his former acquaintance. Bet here a new calamity awaited him, worse than all the rest. A fever broke out in the closely they had fixed their abode, and first two or three children took it, and died ; and then himself and his wife—rendered meet subjects for infection by anxiety of mind and poor living, were attacked with the disease. Re recovered; at least he survived, though with an en• ' feebled constitution ; but he lost his wife, a wise mei patient woman, who had been his comforter and sustainer through all misfortunes—misfortunes which, after vainly endeavoring to avert, she sop. ported with heroic and uncomplaini:.g fortitude; but dying, she left him a precious legacy in Mary, who, with a fine na.ure, ail)] the benefit of her motber•s precept mid example, had been to him ever since a treasure of filial duty and tenderness. A faint light dawned through the dirty window art the morning succeeding the little event with which we opened our story, when Mary rose sof. ly from her humble conch, and stepping lightly to where her lather's clothes lay on a chair, at the foot of his bed, she put her hand in his waistcoat pocket, and, extracting, therefrom the guinea winch had been found in the gruel the preceding even. trig, she transferred it :o her own. She than dress ed herself, and having ascertained that her father still slept, quietly left the room. The hour was yet so eyly and the streets so deserted, that Mary almost trembled to find herself in them alone ; but she was anxious to do what she considered her du ty without the pain of contention. John Glegg was naturally an honest and well-intentianed man, but the weakness that had blasted his tile adhered to him still. They were doub'less in terrible need of the guinea, and since it was not by any means cer• fain that the real owner would be found, he saw no great harm in appropriating, it ; but Mary wanted no casuistry on the matter. That the money was not legitimately theirs;',lnd'lbat they bad no right to retain it, was all she maw ; and so seeing, site act ed unhesitatingly on her convictions. She had bought the meal at Mr. Ber.jamiu'e, be cause her father complained of the quality of that she procured in the smaller shops, and on this oc casiod he had served her himself. From the eat li ness of the hoar, however, though the shop was open, he was not in it when she arrived on her. 'er. rand of restitution, tut addressing Leah Leet, who was dusting the counter, she mentioned tie circum stance, and tendered the guinea ; which the other took and dropped into the till, without acknowledg ment or remark. Now Mary had not restored the money with any view to praise or reward: the thought of either had not occurred to her ; but she was nevertheless pained by the dry, cold, thankless manner with which the restitution was accepted, and she telt that a little civility would not have been out of place on such an occasion She was thinking of this on her way back, when she observed Mr. Benjamin on the opposite side of the street. The act was, that he did not sleep at the shop, but in one of the suburbs of the metropo lis, and he was now proceeding from his residence to Long Acre. When he caught her eye, he was standing still on the pavement, and looking, as it appeard, at her; so she dropped him a curtesy, and walked forwards; while the old man said to himself: " That's the girl that got the gu'nea in her Meal yesterday. I wonder if she has been to re turn it It was Mary's pure, Innocent, but dejected coun tenance, that had induced him to make her the subject of one of his most costly experiments. He thought if there was such a thing as honesty in the World, that it would find a fit refuge in that young bosom ; and the early hour, and the direction in which she wrs coming; fed him to hope that he might sing Eureka at last. When he entered the shop, Leah stood behind the counter, as usual, look ing very staid and demure; but all she said was, " Good•morning ;" and when he inquired if any body had been there, she quietly answered: " No; nobody." Mr. Benjamin was confirmed in his axiom ; but he consoled himself with the idea, that as the girl was doubtless very icior, the guinea might be of some use to her. In the meantime, Mary waslinil ing the gruel for her lather's breakfast; the only food she could afford him, till she got a few shil lings that were owing to her for needlework. " Well, father dear, bow are you this morning!. "1 scarce know, Mary. I've been dreaming; and was so like reality that, I ran hardly believe yet it was a dream ;" and his eyes wandered over the room, as if looking for something. " What is it, fatherl do you want you breakfast! It will' be ready in five minutes." " I've been dreaming of a roast fowl and a glass of Scotch ale, Mary. I thought you came in with the fowl, aid a bottle in your band,and said: "See father, this is what V. bought with the guinea we found in the meal r' IMSAILDLESS OP DEN6NOIATION Piot ANY QUARTER." * g' But I couldn't do that, Esther, you know. It wouldn't have teen honest to spend other people's money." " Nonsense'," answered John. " Whose money is it I should like to know ? What belongs to no one, we may as well claim as any body else." " But it mast belong to somebody ; and as knew it was not ours, I've carried it back to Mr. Benjamin." " You have I" said Glegg, Pitting up in bed. " Yes i have, father. Don't be angry. I'm sure you won't when you think better of it." But John was very angry indeed. He was dread fully disappointed at losing the delicacies that his sick appetite hungered for, and which, he fancied, would do more to restore him than all the docter's stuff in Loudon ; sod, so far, he was perhaps right. Ha bitterly reproached Mary fur want of sympathy with his sufferings, and was peemh and cross all day 41 night, however, his better nature regaided the ascendant; and when he saw the poor girl wipe lbw tears from her eyes, as her nimble needle flew through the seams of a shirt she was making for a cheap ware-house in the Strand, his heart relented, and holding out his hand, he drew her fondly tow ards him " You're right, Mary," he said, " and I'm wrong but I'm not myself with this long illness, and I oft en think If I had good food I should get well, and be able to to something for myself It falls hard upon you, my girl ; and of en when I see you sla ving to support my useless life, I wish I was dead and out of the way ; and then you could do very well yourself, and I think that pretty face of yours would get you a husband ) perhaps." And Mary flung her arms about his neck, and told him how willing she was to work for hint, and how forlorn she should be without him, and desired she might never hear any more of such wicked wishes. Still, she had an ardent desire to give him the fowl and the ale he had longed for, fur hie next Sunday's dinner ; but, alas ! she could not compass it. But on that very Sunday, the one that succeeded these little events, Leah Leet appeared with a smart new bonnet and gown, at a tea party given by Mr. Ben jamine to three or four of his inmate friends. He was in the habit of giving such small inexpensive entertainments, and he made it a point to invite Leah ; partly because she made the tea for him. an I partly because he wished her to keep out of other society, lest she should get married and leave him—a thing he much deprecated on all accounts. She was accustomed to his business, Le was au coition ed to her, and above all, she was so very honest. But there are various kinds of honesty. Mary's was of the pure sort ; it was such as nature and her mother had instilled into her; it was the honesty of high principle. But Leah was honest, because she had been taught that honesty was the best pole ey ; and as she had her living to earn, it was ex tremely necessary that she should he guided by the axiom, or she might come to poverty and want bread, like others she saw, who lust good situations from failing in this particular. Now, after all, this is but a randy foundation for honesty ; because a person who is not actuated by a higher motive, will naturally have no objection to a little peculation in a sari, way—that is when they think there is uo possible chance of bemg found out. In short, such honesty is but a counter. reit, and, like all counterfeits, it will not stand the wear and tear of the genuine article. Such, how. ever, was Leah's, who had been bred up by world ly-wise teachers, who neither taught nor knew any better. Entirely ignorant of Mr. Benjamin's eccen Inci method of seeking, what two thousand years ago Ding,enes thought it worth while to look for with a lantern, she considered that the guinea brought back by Mary was a veld, which might be appropriated without the slightest danger of ming called to amount for it. It had probably, she tho't been dropped into the meal tub by some careless customer, who would not know how be had lost it and even if it wire her master's, he must also be quite ignorant of the accident that had placed it where it was found. The girl was a stranger in the shop ; she had never been there till the day be fore, and might never be there again : and, if she were, it was not likely she would speak to Mr . Benjamin. So there could be no risk, as far as she could see ; and the money came just change to purchase some new attire thit the change of season rendered desirable. Many of us now alive can remember the begin ning of what is called the sanitary movement, pre vious to which era, as nothing was said about the wretched dwellings of the poor, nobody thought of them,nor were the ill consegtenceS of their dirty, crowded rooms, and bad ventilation et all appre ciated. At length the idea struck somebody, who wrote a pamphlet about it, which the public did not read; but as the author sent it 10 the newspaper editoni, they borrowed the hint and took up the subject, the importance of which, by slow degrees, penetrated the London mind. Now, amongst the sources of wealth possessed by Mr. Benjamin were a great many houses, which, by having money at his com mand, he had bought cheap froM those who could not afford to wait ; and many of these were situated in squalid neighborhoods, and where inhabited by miserably poor people; but as these people did not fad under his eye, he had never thought of them— he had only thought of Omit rents, which he re ceived more or less regularly through the hands of his agent. The sums due, however, were often deficiedi, fir sometimes the tenants were unable to pay them, because they were so eicit i they could not work ; and sometimes they died, leaving nothing behind to seize for their debts. Mr. Benjamin had looked upon this evil as irremediable; but when he heard of the sanitary movement, it occurred to him, that if he did something towards rendering his property more eligible and wholesome, that ha might let his rooms to • better class of tenants, and that greiter certainty of payment, together with a little higher rent, would renumerate him for tees pense of the cleaningand repairs. The idea being 11: . t agreeable , both to his love of gain-and , his betietro. lenoe, he smitmoned his builder, and propespd that he shou!d accompany him over these'• teneMente, in order that they might agree as to what ;shoal be done, end calculate the outlay ; sod the , - hoose inhabited by Glegg and hie daughter happertirig tb be one of them. the old gentleman, in the natural course of eventslound hiruseltpaying an unexpect ed visit to theimconsolous sufiect of his lest ex. periment ; for the Past is was, and so it was likely to remain, though three months hail elapsed since he made it : but its ill success had discouraged him. There was something about Mary that so ev idently distinguished her from his usual customers; she looked so innocPnt, so modest, and withal, so pretty, that he thought if he failed with her, hwwas not likely to succeed With anybody else.' " Who lives in the attic I" he inquired of Mr. Harker, the builder, as they were ascending the stairs. "There's a widow and her dinghtec, anti son in-law, with three children, in the back mom," an swered Mr. Harker. it I believe the women go ontcharring, and the man's a bricklayer:. In the front, there's a man celled Gleeg amd hi• danghter. fancy they're people that have been better off at some time of their lives. He has been • tnides. man—a cooper, he tells me ; but things went bad. ty with him ; and since hexame here, his wife di. ed of the fever, and he's been so 'weakly ever since he had it, that he can earn nothing. His daughter lives by her needle." .Mary was ont ; she had•gone to take home some work, in hopes of getting immediate payment for A couple of shillings would purchase them coal and food, and they were much in need of both. John was Fitting by :he scanty fire, with his daugbt. er's shawl over his shoulders, looking wan, wasted and desponding. " Mr. Benjamin, the landlord, Mt. Gleeg," said Harker. John knee they owed a little 'rent, and he was afraid they had come to demand it. " I'm sorry my daughter's out, gentlemen," he said. " Will you be pleased to take a chair," '" Mr. Benjamin is going round his property said Harker. He is proposing to make a few repairs, and do a little painting and whitewashing, to mike the rooms more airy and emulonable." "That will be a good thing air," ausweredGleeg +" a very good thing sir; for I believe it is the closeness of the place that makes us country folks ill when we come to London. I'm sore I've nev. er hail a day's health since I've lived here." " You've been very unlucky, indeed, Mr. Gleeg," said Harker. " But you know, jt we lay out money, we shall look tor a return. We must raise your rent" • Ah, air, I suppose so," answered John with a sigh ; " and how we're to pay it, I don't know L.. II -I could only get well, I shouldn't mind . ; for I'd rather break stones on the road, or sweep a cross ing, than see my poor girl slaving from morning to night for such a pittance. " If we were to throw down this partition, and to open another window here," said Harker to Mr• Benjamin, " it would make a comfortable apart ment of it. There would be a room, theni for a bed in the recent." Mr. Benjamin, however, was at that moment engaged in the contemplation of an ill-painted por trait of a girl, that was attached by a pin over the chimney piece. It was withnut a frame, for the respectable gilt one that had formerly encircled it had been taken ofl. and sold to buy bread. Noth ing could be coarser than the execution of the thing but as is not onfrequently the case of such produc tions, the likeness was striking ; and Mr. Benja min, being now in the habit of seeing Mary, who bought all the meal they used at his ibop, reeog raised it at once. '• That's your daughter, ii it ?'' he said. " Yes, sir ; she's often at your place for meal ; and it it wasn't too great a liberty, f would ask you sir,'lf you thought you could helpher to some sort of employment that's better than sowing; for it's a hard life, sir, in this close place fora yonng crea• tore that was brought up in the free country air not that Mary minds work, but the worst is, there's so little to be got by the needle, and it's such close confinement." Mr. Benjamin's mind, during this address of poor Gleeg's, was running on his guinea. He felt a dis trust of her honesty—or rather of the honesty of both father and daughter; and yet being far from a hard hearted person, their evident distress and the man's sickness disposed him to make allowance for them. " They couldn't know that the money belonged In me," thought he ; adding Woad : " Have you no friends here in London 1" " No, sir, none. I was unfortunate in tin:fines. in the Coentry, and came here hoping fir better luck ; but sickness overtook as, and we've never been able to do any good. But Mary, my daught er, doesn't want for education, sir ; and a more hon est girl never lived r , q " Honest ia -ahe 1" said Mr. Benjamin, looking Glegg in the face ! Fit answer for her, sir," answered John, who thought the old getleman was going to assist her to a situation. 11 You'll excuse me mentioning it, air ; but perhaps it isn't everybody distressed as we were, that would have carried back the money she foetid in the meal ; but Mary would do it, even when T said that perhaps it wasn't yours, and that nobody might know whose it wall which was very wrong of me, rib doubt ; but one's mind gets weakened by illnesti and want, and I couldn't hr I? thinking of the food it won's]. buy us ; but Mary would not hear of it. I'm sore-you might trust Ma. ry with untold gold, sir : and it would be a real charity to a situation, if yrna knew of such a thing." Little deemed Leah that morning, as she handed, Mary her quart of meal and the change for her hard earned shilling, that she had spoiled her own fortunes, and that she_ would, ere night, be called upon to abdicate her stool behind the counter in fa vor of her bumble customer ; and yet so it Mr. 'Benjamin could not forgive her deld!etian from PIM lEMEMI OM honesty ;.• and the more he hall trusted bet, the _ireateeirsglhe. shoat to , tiie ; crnkle*, ^ Natio ver, his short.siglited views of human nature, and his incapacity .fq- ernnptelleltditlilt, l lll its infinity -hales and varieties, canoed him to existed bit ill noninn farther than the delinquent merited. In spite of ind protestations, he could not believe that this was her first miodemedier s : bat concluded !het like many other people in the world, she had only been reputed honSia; .becaese she had not beep found out. Lealt si r iontound fierier hi the very di lemma she had deprecated, and the Opprehensioa of which had kept her co long practically, honest—' vritnoui a situation and a cupe.;ed character. As Mary understood book-keeping. the duties et her new office were poen learned, end the only !wit attending - it'svart,*that she could not take care at her lather. But determined not to lose her, Mr. Ben jamin futinthneantet teemed, • the difficthy by giving them a room behind the shop, where they lived very comfortably, till Glegg, recovering some pnrion of health, was able to work a little at bia trade. In recess of time, however, ast infirmity begs to disable Mr. Benjamin for the daily walk Item his residence to his shop, he left the whole map agemunt of the business to the father and daughter, receiving every shilling of the profits, except the moderate salaries he gave them, which were goatr clout to furnish them with all the necessaries Writs. Bo! when the old gentleman died, and Fla will was opened, it was found that he had left every. thing he possesses! to Mary Glegg ; except one guinea, which, without alleging any reason, herb*. rineathed to Leah Leet. A !thongll chocolate is not a daily necessary like tea and coffee, yet the taiga qnantityconsumed en titles it to some notice. Chocolate is made trom the beans of theobra cacao, a small tree of the mid. va.family. indigenous to tropical America and the West India lirlands,-whicn beers a very small flow er, not two lines in diameter, and a disproportional ly sizid gourdlike fruit, which is fit i inches tLiok, and ten inches long. It contain. in a reddish•white agreeably tasted pulp, twenty-five to forty kernels or cacao beans, each covered with a skin, with which they are bronght into commerce. When the fruit is ripe, - the beans are separated from the flesh and heaped up in pits or ditches covered:a ith boards, where they are left some days under Ire. quent inspection. A sort of fermentation is thus set up in them which removes a good deal of theist bitterness and renders them darker in colcr ; they are subsequently dried in the; inn. There are a great many varieties : that from Canteen is the best, and the West Indian the worst. 'I he beans of cacao have not been thoroughly examined; they are only known to contain a peculiti mild fat, the cacao butter, to the amont 0:48 per cent. according to Bousingauh, and 53 per cent. accordiirq; to tam. pedius. esperimen'ts found a considerable quantity of albumen, a kitty of tannic scid, and some starch among the more remarkable ingredi ents. In preparing chocolate the cacao beans am roasted in a c 3 tinder similar to those employed for roasting calee. In this operation the aroma is de. veloped, the bitterness diminished, and the beans rendered fragile. They are broken under a wood en roller, and vs innowel to revove the husk entire- ly. They may then be reduced tote soft pails in * machine consisting of an annular trough of granite, in whiCh two spheroidal granite mill stones are fumed by machinery, with knives 'attached to re 4 turn the ingredients under the rubbing surface. An equal weight of sugar is here added to the pato, which is &ally rendered vita smooth by fieliqg ground under horizontal rollers on a plate of iron, heated to about 140 dee_ Fah. The preparation of cacao consists in roasting, peeling and grating the peeled beans in a warm rasping apparatus or cho colate machine. The flour of the seeds forms with the liquid fat, a kind of paste which congeals to a solid cake in the A witty clergyman had been teeming one ever • ing in a c:nmtry vitlaee ori the subject Of Temper ance, and as 'mat, after the lecture the pledge wee passed around for signature.. " Pass it along that way," said the lecterer, poin•- ing towards a gang of bloated an 3 red nosed loafers near the door. " ease it along, p-rhaps some a those gentlemen would like to join nor cense 41 We don't bite at a large hook!' gruffly mattered one of the material. " Will," replied the ready clergyman, I be lieve there is a kind of fhb called sucked that de not bite." have seen some people rudeby being over civ il, and tioublesome in theireourtexy ; though, these excesses excepted, the knowledge of courtesy and good manners is a very necessary %truly. It is, like grace and beauty, that Which begets liking atul an inclination to lave one another at the first sight, and in the beginning, of an acquaintance, a familiarity; mid conseqbentlyi that which fuer opens the door, and induces ui to better ourselves the example% of when', if there be anyuting in the society worth taking notice of. bfpiRTIY rarer. w tlettrunta-4Snme English people were visitin; a:, el.•gnrrt private garden at Palermo, Sicily, and among the little ornamental buildings they came to one Upon whieh wee wri!. ten "Non aperite," that is r• pooh open." This prohibitition Ohl,' served to excite their curiosity, and they viry , uncivilly proceeded to disobey the hospitabl i i owner's injunction. On opening the doe* a forcible' ism of , water was scuttled full in their faces. A very just, though not vol severe tetribe• Lion. 04r When one sees a family of children goir to school in clean and well meniled clothing, it tells a real deal in favor of their mather a ono might vomit that those children learn some value., We lessons at home, whatever they may be telor i bs at schoots 1 . .gooftWols,ism . 4, . \ ~ 4 ,- ~._ :i-JiA*-4,',.` , ''' - ') 4, r ie -.." -...24..„. 1 (' ~ 47,/ f° Asqt; si c 'v : i ,-, :=; - A. '"r; 5: '• ..3-. - ' 4 II: , • -":: ,"..Z..i:,- . 1 ,..,.. 4 ,.. ki t ..,.. , ~- ' --, - 1,--; ‘-.., k- e - TVA . .. -,` ... %,..,.- -' , / ; ) '4; --',- -,', i'e" ''. t' . '-'i 1 -:.„." ~..f : -;?....,, " .... '',..., f% r, -Ts: - ,t , ~; '- , - 4v4 .:::.` !./ '-' ..? JEN E=Nl= RIMEDP7Mrfiee EDE RE How o°Mate is 31340. - A.?