I ;s PER AM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. ITOWANIDA.: . V,; fllornmj, Angnsl 13. 1858^ jetkettb |lottn;. [From the Masonic Beview.] A CUP OF COLD WATER." FT MB*. SOPHIA 11. OLIVER. me a utctv. t-eaten road Neath India's burning sky. A ,re n the jhngle deep and wild scorching sunbeams lie: r,- -weet sound of laughing floods Breaks .: stream bubbling in his breast, .hat -beers tlie toilsome day. • \ r that seeks another's good, Aad asks uot man's regard ; e'rrtul law of Heav'n decrees t.i ,t own reward. ' \ the way-worn caravans ; tin- istorn rude, v.; vt the burning brow* and hands 1 the refreshing flood. , --i: g him. whose love has been I ~\e the descending dew ; < -hi' \ the c ' delicious draught Again their path pursue. Oh' ' g essence of the faith That Mason lips profess ; : i!)J w tlini the luart that prompts . . ....lid. to a. t - llult UfsS. \ lie. v. set-- •;o h hidden spring F- in h. u the a. tiotis ri-e. s'.ah *n the Hind'"'- generous deed A worthy -acrifiee. (Original Clll. Witirri . FOB THE BaeOF.IRO REPORTER. THE FAITHLESS. I the town of W , and county of I.—, i the family of LAMBERT HAZI.FHCR.ST, • -* of the parents and five children ; - - i.. 1 . at? daughter. Mr. Hazlehurst . tiller of the ground," and the products - ' -applied all the necessaries, and many : of life. The sons were named ' • v, Edward, Albert, Jasper L. and •j W Edward, the eldest, married at twenty-three, and chose theoecupa i farmer. Albert, at the age of twen .. I--, . f r a whaling voyage, and after • ir- of t >1 ami hardship, returned to be - -■ !•>< i>> a brother long since dead. I n :', hi 1 from early youth shown : . reference for study, ami his father, " > ; cult.rating his sou's love of kuowl - ; i f him at school, where his talents ;;- rv won f proceed. We would not have our - -upp.yse her a paragon of grace or ier would we wish tliera to think * a- mcultivated or uot possessing those ' ' haracter which make a lovely woman • v'.-r, we would have you think of Ruth rst i- a modest, gentle maiden ; too - • -r 'I herself to suspect deceit iu oth > e had s.-en the light of seventeen sura ■ u- -inall in stature, with a slight, but } -y : metrical figure, light auburn hair, ey and a face whose chief attrac *-• the pretty dimple which always ap • " • M the attendant of a smile. Very plain Bath. But uo one " knew her but er," and to those gray-headed parents - ly brothers, was she a dear and cher -,J-tr-a-are. ■ r seventeenth birth-day, lluth had "irneyed beyond the limits of the town she was born, but had lived rather a v i.;\- at the old farm house, varied "a< mal visits of distant relatives.— •" of a mild September day, while ' •- of our heroine were seated at an ' * . low, enjoying to the full the delicious its fanned their brows, a step sound • -V graveled walk, and came into view i- mined hat of their Quaker neigh- B card Collins. " A letter for thee, Lirn ert,'" aid the Q laker ; " my son, , t>t brought it from the office, aud I Jt thee would be pleased to have it, ns I is postmarked Laurens, thy native Yes, yes, neighbor Collins," said B - " right glad are we to see tbe little ~ "d from the home circle, and the thought of sepa rating her from them for several months, was really a painful one. At last it was settled 1 that Ruth herself should decide the matter,and ! if she chose to go they would not object. But j where, in the m antime. was the object of their thoughts ? \N ere you to have looked in at ; the open door of widow Merideth's poor cot- i tage, you might have seen her sitting at the : little west window with an open bible on her ' lap, striving to catch the Inst rays of light ; which came but dimly through the cracked and ! dusty panes, that the heart of that poor lone one might be comforted by Rod's precious pro mises. At a later hour, Ruth might have been seen aiding the tremulous hands of age, in dis robing and placing gently on tier bed,the bow ed and feeble form. Her mission of love ac complished, Ruth placed on her arm the bas ket in which she had brought some little deli cacies for the widow, and calling her dog to her side, bade the old woman good night, aud took her way home, breathing a prayer of thanksgiving to the good God, who had given her kind friends aud a pleasant home Ruth observed, as she entered the room where her parents were sitting, that something had oc curred to disturb their serenity, and &nxiou*lv inquired the cause. Upon being made ac quainted with her aunt's proposal, she express ed surprise, and said she must defer her decis ion for a little time. The following day she told her parents she had concluded to accept the invitation. Ac cordingly, three weeks later, Ruth, in company with Iter brother W illi&m, set out 011 her jour ney. The distance was about three hundred miles, but by the aid of that mighty agent, sUint, they were landed in safety at their aunt's door at the close of the second day. Ruth was delighted with everything about her aunt's . house, and tiie weeks, passed iu visiting, ram bling or in-door amusements, flew rapidly by. Social parties were given hv Mrs. Randolph, and returned bv her neighbors, so that Ruth saw much of the people of Laurens, and was well pleased to form acquaintances among them. It was at one of these parties that Ruth first ■ met Edgar Winthrop. a hfhelor of twentv -1 eight, with a good share of personal attrac tions, and possessing a moderate fortune. lie was a native of Laurens, and had spent the years of his majority abroad ; sometimes tra velling in the capacity of agent for some fir in in an eastern city, but more frequently intent on the gratification of his own unhallowed pas sions. He had mingled much in society, was versed in the art of saying foolish nothings to the vain and foolish fair ones : ami with equal ease could he win the attention of, and inter est, the wise and virtuous. He was in short, aj ' A htd rUlian. He had returned to his na tive village for the purpose, he said, of visiting •an aged grand-parent and maiden aunt, who resided there, and to look once more upon the graves of his parents ; but those who knew him be*t, believed it was rather to seek fresh pleasures, aud carry on new flirtations, that I c earae. Ruth in her youth and innocence, attracted the attention of the heartless Edgar, and im mediately an introduction was sought aud gaiu ed. Rides aud promenades succeeded ; in all of which Edgar and Ruth joined, and iu every instance Edgar appeared as Ruth's attendant Life began to wear a new aspect to the gentle girl. All her life accustomed to give and re- j ceive sincerity in word and deed, the thought of deceit never entered her pure miud.and with a joy which only the pure and good may know, she believed herself beloved, and yielded in re turn the true and holy affection of her guileless heart. Aud he to whom she gave her young heart's affection, was all unworthy of the price less treasure. At the time of leaving home. Ruth believed it would be impossible for her to remaiu the time which her aunt had named, but in the ( enjoyment of her new-found happiness, she took but little note of time, and was much sur prised to receive a letter from home, expressing a wish for her return In the early patt of < April. Ruth returned to her parents. Edgar had left for the West, two weeks pre vious ; and when, at parting, Mrs. Raudo'ph witnessed the agitation of her niece, a suspi cion of the truth crossed her mind, but as Ruth had uever mentioned her attachment to her, and (an unusual circumstance,) even rumor had not reported, if, she dismissed it si once PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. O'MEARA GOODRICH. " RESAEDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER." W iuthrop had hinted to Ruth that their en gagement might be a long one, aud exacting a promise of secrecy from her, as a means of maintaining it, suggested that no epistolary correspondence be carried on between them. This was a sore trial to Ruth ; but loving and trusting with her whole heart, she assented, and burying her love deep in the recesses of her heart, went to her outies, none suspecting its existence. The only means which Ruth had of hearing from her lover were by means of a friend of a correspondent of his For a time all was well —but at length came rumors of fraud and de pravity in various forms. Last of all came the tale of a maiden's shame, and in connection therewith was breathed the name of Edgar \\ iothrop 1 Ruth, like the pure, true-hearted oue was, believed the loved one an inno cent and injured man, aud waited patiently a confirmation of her hopes from Lis own lips, never dreaming of the blight which was to wi ther her hopes. It came at last ; came too, when the heart was all unprepared to meet it, glowing as it was with love and anticipation. Oh, ye worldings ! ye prudes ! ye who think and speak of love as Llenl, ye should have wit nessed the desolation and despair which its in terruption brought to that devoted heart.— \\ hen fully convinced of E Igar's unfaithful ness. Ruth wrote him that he must consider the ir engagement at an end, for never would she again see or receive aught from one so ut terly unworthy as himself. It may readily be supposed that this intelligence caused Edgar no grief, for lie never loved Rath, but it woun ded his pride and irritated him to be dismissed by her. As none were made acquainted with the engagement, so none knew of its termina tion, and poor Ruth locked within her own bosom the anguish which threatened to crush her, striving to appear with her wonted cheer fulness ; but the uprooting of that life which had been to her so much of joy, and to which she had yielded unhesitatingly, proved too much for even her self-control, for the effects were visible in shattered nerves and an enfee bled frame. Affectionate friends came round her, suggesting various remedies, change of climate, Ac., to all of which Ruth replied that she was very well, and smiling faintly, bade them dismiss all fears. I? it the destroyer was there, and not until the fair fabric was over thrown would he relinqu'sh his hold. And Rath was prostrated. One and all wondered as to the nature of that power which had so suddeuly overwhelmed poor Ruth. But the unconscious object claimed their attention, and with the exclamations " strange !" " won derful !"' they ceased to conjecture After many days of death-like stupor, consciousness came slowly back to the tortured and heart sick girl. Though grateful for the loving kind ness of friends, she felt in her inmost soul that they did her no kindness in restoring her to consciousness. The anguish of her soul had not yet passed, and the bruised and bleeding heart yet clung to the earthly love, and refus ed to be comforted. Time, and the constant, care of affectionate friends, restored the hue of health to the fad ed cheek, and strength to the feeble frame , but happiness dwelt not in the heart made de solate by the blighting of its dearest hopes, and Ruth, with all her fortitude and pride, was little better than an automaton. It may be that her mother, with a woman's keen jar •eption, devised the secret of her daughter's unhappiness, but she never hinted her suspici cious, and Ruth believing the secret known ouly to herself, guarded it with jealous care. A year had passed. Time, tho it brought not the deep full happiness which she felt iu loving, and believing herself loved, brought peace and quiet; while the removal of her af fection, which she now acknowledged to her self was idolatrous, had taught iicr to look away from earth, and its fleeting joys, to the Source of Light and Life, even God, our Fa ther. It was at this time that Ruth was again addressed, ar.d by a gentleman of worth ; one who could appreciate the bpautv of a charac ter like hers, and cherish as a sacred thing the affection of her noble heart Ruth felt that sue dd not love him. and grieved over the fact, for she respected him for his many virtues,and would have doDe or suffered much for his hap piness. One evening she accepted an invita tion from the gentleman in question to attend a social party at the ! onse of a mutual frieud During the evening, while standing alone, and partially hidden from view, engaged in exam ining some j>encii sketches, her attention wa> arre-ted by an unusual bustle at the entrance, and farther extremity of the room. As the crowd surrounding the entrance parted, the well-known form of Edgar Wiuthrop met her astonished vision, and so unlooked for was bis appearance, and so overwhelming the fact that she stood in the same room, and within a few paces of the being site oace so rapturou.-'v lov ed, that she was obliged to summon all her forces of mind and body, to maintain any de gree of self possession. Fortunately she was alone, and when her hostess came np, and ad diessing some playful remark to her, bade her be ready to welcome their strange guest, she was able to reply in a tolerably steady voice. When they came to lead her forth for the in troduction, it required all Ruth's courage and ingenuity to frame nn excuse, but she plead so earnestly to be left alone, that her request was granted. Poor Rnth-1 After having striven so long and earnestly to tear from her heart the image of the loved, but faithless one, and when she thought she had come off con queror, to be thus robbed of her victory ! Tru ly did she believe that every sentiment of love or respect for the guilty oue, had been banish ed from her heart, but one glance at that face convinced her of her error, and sent her, in deep humility, to her closet, to atk of God strength to bear, and not repine. The sight of him who once possessed her love, revealed to her conscious heart, the secret of all her coldness to her present suitor ; and she shuddered to find herself recalling the Wis - ful emotions which his coming was wont to call forth. At an early hour Ruth left the scene of trial, and when alone at home, threw her self in an agony of grief upon her bed, and in the loneliness of her deep grief, prayed to be delivered from the anguish which was consum ing her. At length she grew calm, had yield ed to the approach of slumber. She arose the following morn, very calm, bnt her pale, sweet face bore trace* of the last night's conflict.— From that last trial, Ilutli came out purified ; and wlien three months later, she gave her hand to her devoted admirer, she felt that her heart could safely trust in him. She could not give to him her first pure affection, but she give him what he prizes equally as much : the love of a heart chastened and subdued by the fiery trials it had borne, and now filled with gratitude to the God of mercy, who led her from tlie darkness which surrounded her, int "> marvellous light. And he who won the love of faithful hearts, or.ly to cast them from him, was killed in a duel, by the brother of a young girl, who fell a victim to the seducer's art*. Thus perished at the age of thirty-five, one who might have been an ornament to society and to his sex ; an honored and honorable man ; but who walked after the lusts of the fi<'*li, and descended to an unhonorcd and un hallowed grave. WAI.KIXO. —Of all forms of exercise, walk ing i* the most useful, as it brings into play the greatest number of muscles, without un natural strain upon any. It also leaves free scope to the external senses, while allowing a -imult ineous occupation of the mind. Anoth er advantage is, that it admits of complete regulation, both in degree and duration, ac cording to the strength, time, or wishes of each individual. Those who have weak lungs or heart, roust be satisfied with gentle, walking, and on level ground. Although conducive to mental activity, it is often advisable to keep the mind free from severe and sustained thought when walking. Hence the advantage of a companion with whom cheerful conversation can be kept up, or of observing surrounding objects, whether in town or country,*o as to di vert the mind from study and care. The pur suits of natural history are good in thi* way. and hence also the chief hygienic effect of shooting and field sports, excitement and di version of mind accompanying the actual exer cise. Those who are engaged, where the dwel ling and place of business are at a distance from their place of residence, ought to walk at least part of the way, both in the morning aud afternoon, if confined within doors during the day. Literary and professional men ought to walk more than they generally do. The time i* not lo*t, as tiie mind will always be re vived to work with greater energy. The brain will do as much work in one hour, when there i* iftine flow of pure oxygenat- d I ood, in in double the time when the nervous syt>-m is exhausted, and the veins congested with dark blood Artificial stimulants my quicken thought for a time ; but their eff-ct dniunisi.- ing by habit, the quautity ha* to be increased, and iujun in other ways is done to the system llow THE BOYS FOOLED THF. OLD GENTLE MEN — lie was fat aud on horseback. They nmde him believe that a crm-k he hid just come to (it was in Alabama, was so deep his horse would have to swim it. The Col. >lowlv divested himself of coat, boots, pantaloons and drawers. These he nicely tied up iu his handkerchief and hung them on the horn of his saddle, then he remounted, and a* he was a short fat man, with a panueh of rather in ordinate size, rather inedeqnate Ug*, a face 1 ke a withered apple, and a brown wig, there is no doubt he made an interesting picture as he bestrode his steed, with tiie breeze holding gentle dalliance with the extremity of his ouly garment. Slowly aud cautiously the old gentleman took the creek. Half a length and the water was not fetlock deep. Here the horse slopped to drink A length and a half, and the stream was no deeper. Thirty feet farther aud a decided shoaling. Here Col. I) reined to. "There must," said he, " be an awful deep channel between this aud the ba k—see how it runs. We'll dash through here." A sharp lash made the horse spring the watery waste, arid another carried the hor?e and rider to the opposite bank. The creek was uo where more than a foot deep. A wild yell from the yonng'tins annonnced their approbation o? the sport as they gallop ed aw ay with tbe Col. after them imprecating ferociously, but they got off aud left him grum bling and dressin? hinre l ? by the road. de tF rom the 1/ ndon Pamphlet J Rarey's Great Horse Taming Secret, First. ThAt he (the horse) is so constitut ed by nature that he will not offer resistance to any demand made of him which lie fully comprehends, if made in away consistent with the laws of nature. Second. That he has no consciousness of his strength, beyond his experience, and cat. be handled according to our will, without force. Third I'liat we can, in compliance with the laws of his nature, by which he examines ali things new to him, take any object, how ever frightful, around, over or on him, that does not inflict paiu, without causing him to fear. The horse, though possessed of some facul ties superior to man's, being deficient in rea sonitig powers, has no knowledge of right or wrong, of free will aud independent govern ment, and knows not of any imposition prac ticed upon him, however unreasonable these impositions may be. Consequently, lie cannot come to any decision as to what he should or should uot do, because lie has not the reason ing faculties of m in to argue the justice of tiie thing demanded of him. If he ha 1 taken in to consideration li s superior strength, iiu would be useless to a man as a servant. Every oue that has ever paid any attention to the hor*e has noticed his natural inclina tion to smell everyiliing which to him look new and frightful. This is his strange mode of examining everything. And when he is frightened at anything, though he looks at it sharply, h • seems to have uo confidence in th:- optical examination alone, but must touch it with his no-e before he is entirely satisfied : and as soon as this is done, all is right. We might very naturally suppose, from the fact of the horse's applying In* nose to every thing new to him, that he always does so for the purpose of s.mc'li.ig these object*. But I bebeve that it is a- much or more for the pur pose of feeliug. and that he makes use of his nose or muzzle fas it is sometimes called) as we would of our hands ; because it is the on ly organ by which he can touch or feci any thing with much susceptibility. We know, from experience, that if a horse sees and smells a robe a short distance from him, he is very much frightened. (unle-s he is used to it) until he touches or feci* it with his nose : which is positive proof that feeling is the controlling sense in this case. It is a prevailing opinion among horsemen generally that the sene of srn<-ll is the govern ing sense of the horse : and Foticher. a* well a- others, has, with that view, got up receipts of -irong smelling oil*. Ac , to tame the horse, sometimes using the chestnut of his legs, which they dry, grind into powder, and blow into his nostril*, sometimes using the oil of rhodium, origanium, Ac., that are noted for their strong smell : and sometimes thrv scent the hand with the sweat from uud r the arm. or some times blow their breatii into his nostrils, Ac. : all of which, u< far as the scent goes, have no effect whatever in gentling the horse, or con veying any idea to his mind : though tiie acts that accompany these tffur's—handling him, touching him alrout the nose and head, and patting him, as they direct you should, after administering the articles, mav have a great effect, which they mistake to be the effects of the ingredients used Now reader, can yon or any one else give one single reason how scent can convey any idea to the hor.-c's mind of what we want him to do ? If not, then of course strong scents of any kind are of no avail in taming the un broken horse. In order to obtain perfect obedience from any horse, we mu-t first have him fear u*, for our motto is, Fear, / rr and obey ; and we uiust have the fulfillment of the first two before we can expect the latter : for it is by our philoso phy of creating fear, love and confi !< nce. that we govern to our will every kind of hors whatever. I should not want, for mvself, more than half or three quarters of an hour to handle any colt and have him running about in the stable after me ; though 1 v. < aid adi *e a new beginner to take more time and not be in too niqch of a hurry. When you have eu tered the stable, stand -till, an i let your hor-- look at you for a minute or two, and as soon a* he is settled in one place, approach him slowly, with your arms statimiarv. v ir right hand hanging by vour side, holding the whip as directed, and the left bent to the elbow, with the hand projecting. A* you npprou li him. go not too near his head or croup, -o a uot to make him move either backward or f >r ward, step a little to the right or lift, verv caut.ou.-ly ; this wiil keep lam in one place A* you get very near him, draw a little to ln> shoulder and st.p a few seconds. It yaw are very near him, he wiii turn hi* In ad and -ineil your hand, not that he has any preference for your hand, bat because that is projecting, and i* the nearest portion of your body to tiie bone Tiiis all colts wiii do, and they will smell yonr naked hand j:i*t as quickly us they will of anything that you can put in it, and with jm^• as good an effect, however nnn :i some men may have pi cached the doctrine of taming hor ses by giving the animals the scent of articles from the hand. I have already made it aj>- pear that that notion is a in stake. A* si M*n as he touches his no-.: to your hand, cares.- him as before direct' 1, always with a very soft light hand, merely touching th. horse, always rublcng the way the lia : r lies, so that your hand w.ll pass along a* smooth v as pos sible. A* yon stand by - de. you may find it more convenient to rub his neck or the side of h.s head, which w.il answer the same pur pose as runb'.ng his forehead. Favor everv inclination of the her*e to touch or sind! voa With h:s uo.se. Always follow each touch or communication of ibis kind with the most ten der and affectionate cares-es, accompanied with a kind lock aud pleasant word of some sort, such es " Ho ! mv little boy, ho ! roy little boy I" " Prvtty boy !'* " Nice lady !'* or something of t:e kind, constantly repeating: the same words, with the same kiud, steady tone of voice ; for the horse soon Icarr.s to read the expression of tie face and the voice, and wil! know as well when fear, love, an- VOL. XIX. —NO. 10. irer prevails as you know your own feelings ; two of which—fear and auger—a good horse man should never feel. If your horse, instead of being wild, seems to be of a stubborn or mulish disposition ; if iie lays back his ears as you approach him, or turns his heels to kick you, lie has not that re gard or fear of man that he should have to enable you to handle him quickly and easily ; and it 111 ght he well to give him a few sharp cu's with the whip about the legs, pretty dose to the body, it will crack keenly as it plies around his legs, and the crack of the whip will affect him as much as the stroke ; besides, one sharp cut a*Mjut the legs will affect him more than two or three over his back, the skin 01 the inner part of his legs or about the Hank being thinner ami more tender than ou his back. Bui do not whip him much. WHF.RF. MOSQUITOES COME FROM.— These pens of summer proceed from the animalcules, commonly called " wiggle-tail " If a bow! of water is placed in the summer's sun for a few days, a number of " wiggle tails " will be visi ble, and they will increase in size till they reach three-sixteenths of an inch in length, re maining longer at the surface as they approach maturity, as if seeming to live on influences derived f rom the two elements of air and water finally, they will assume a chrysalis form, and by an increased specific gravity sink to the bottom of the bowl. A few hoars only will elapse, when a short black furze or hair will erow out on every side of eueli till it assumes tl e form of a minute citerpillar. Its specific gravity being thus counteracted, it will readily tlo.it to the surface, and be wafted to the side of ilie bowl b\ the slightest breath of air. In a short time a fly will be hatched and escajie, leaving its tiny house upou the surface of the water. Any one wlfo has had a cistern in the yard has doubtless observed the same effect, every summer, although he may be ignorant of the b- nutiful and simple process of development If a pitcher of cistern or other water contain ing these animalcules is placed in a close room over night, from which all mosquitoes have previously been excluded, enough mosquitoes will breed from it during the night to give any s i';sf .cov amount] >f trouble. In fact .standing by n shallow, half stagnant pool on a midsum mer'- d iv the full development of any number of " w'ggle tails'' to the mosquito state ran be witne-sed, and the origin of these disturiers of irght's slumbers thus fully ascertained.— Scientific American. THE REST PHILOSOPHY. — The propriety of cultivating feelings of benevolence towards our fellow creatures is seldom denied in theory, however frequently the duty may be omitted in practice. It litis been recommended by the eloquence of heathen philosophers, and enforc ed by some extraordinary ex 1 tuples of heathen philanthropy; but as the foundations on which they built their beautiful theories of virtue were narrow and confined, the superstructure was frail and jierishabie, and never was the true foundation discovered, till brought to light by Jesus Christ. He first taught how ti,e obstacles to benevolence were to be re moved by conquering that pride, self-love, and vait-_dory which had, till then, constituted a part of the catalogue of human virtues. He !ir-t taujit the universality of its extent, by connecting it with the love of the common Father and Benefactor of all, and made the ove of our fellow-creatures the test and crite rioa of our love to the Creator, while from true devotion t-i the Supreme Being, he thought that benevoleuce to man must uecessaraily flow, lie likewise taught that upon all who were conviui ed of these truths, and were anxious to fulfil the divine commandments, divine assistance would he bes'owed. He alone ennobled virtue by the assurances ut an eter nal reward. MARRIAGE OX SHORT ACQUAINTANCE. — Tiiero is no* a city, there i> scari-eiy a tow nship, which |oes not number among its inhabitants women who hare m irried on very short acquaintance, on'y to be abused, deserted, and left a burden u >(1 a life-long -orrow to their families in which they were born and reared, and which t i-y most imprudently and improperly desert ed. to shore the fortunes of relative strangers. If young ladies could realize how grossly in •ielieate as well as culpabiv reckless such mar rag s appear in the eyes of the observing, they surely would forirear. A year's thorough acquaintance, with the most circumstantial ac count- from disinterested and reliable witnes s's. of the antecedents from childhood, are the very least guaranties which any woman wiio realizes what marriage is, will require of a sTung-r. Even then, if her parents are not f; !v satisfied, ns well as herself, she should sbil hesitate. Marriage is an undertaking in which no delay can be so hazardous as uudue precipitation. £r f Nothing <0 much vexes a physician as to 1h- -cut f-T in great Ita.-te, and to find, af ter his arrival, that nothing, or next to noth ing, is the matter with his patient. We re member an "urgent rase" of this kind, re c-ir ed of i n en.i .exit English sirgeou : He had beeu sent for oy a gentleman who had ju.-t received a slight wound, and gave bis servant orders to go home with all ba not afraid of 1 -ing that brandy !" "How so?"' " Why, ot.e might come into the room with the eijht of dub , aud take ;t,''