- , . • < 4 .> - , _ ; • • - •. I -i i tr; t \') • . . I 1 Irr ' , " / • , • ,"?.• ,‘ • _ 2 r • - r _ 7 '-t Br HENRY J. STAIILE. 37 11 ' YEAR. TERNS OF THE COMPILER. Ber l'lte Republican Compiler is published every Nfonday morning*, by LIENEY J. - STABLE, at $1,75 per annum if in advance.:-2,00 per annuli') if not paid in• advance. • 'N6 sub- , scription - discontinued,,Amless at the option of the publisher, until all arrearages are paid. 'ADVERNISEMENTS inserted at the Usual rates. jOO Woui done, neatly, cheapli, and with dispatch: • - Aa'-Oilice on SouiTh Baltimore 'street, direct ly opposite Wampler's Tinning Establishment, one and a half squares froin the Court House. cElpice Portni. The Old Man Leaned on his Friendly Staff. The oleinan leaned on his friendly Stair, With tottering step and slow, Le he picked his way, of a Sunday morn, To the church where he loved to go. rUs hair was white, and he scarcely knew A friend, as he passed him by; $o feeble and frail his memory now, And so dim his clouded eye. He sat on a home-m:ule , chair at church, In front of the preacher's stand, And listened as if lu a pleasant dream,. To the words of a better laud. The suulight fell ou his siirery leeks, And his white hair - tallied to gold— Anil I fancied a, sunlight shone from /leaven, Ou the heart of that pilgrim old.. Bat the autumn leaves have fallen now, And the old man sleeps below— We never shall see him pass again, With his tottering step and slow. • :eclat A DAUGHTER'S DEVOTION. The head, of the family was buried, and the widow and daughter resigned themselves to grief., In all the great rooms below stairs was the rich furniture paraded, statuetes of exquisite loveliness, that never before felt the touch of rude fingers; paintings, fauteuils, marble tables, Mirrors, tt . nd dear domestic luxuries that had been hallowed by love so many fond years.. The ruthless hammer-beat all day. Throngs crowded the great stone entrance, silks and satins and feathers and beautiful laces flitted in and out. Towards night a plain carriage'drew up to a side-door, where the servants shad' always found egress and-ingress. Two forms shrouded in black, moved slowly from the house and en- . tered ; one, of them with the gestures of abso lute despair. The next day a business ldroking man called at the poor tome which had been offered the dependents, till they could maintain them selves. Ile placed a box on the table, asked for the young lady. and subdued by 'her pale stteet face, spice in very low tone : "A.ly dear young lady, will you accept' these from one of your father's friends ; they may be invaluable to you as fatnily relics ; or if you choose to sell them..you may command a hand some suni. 'We cannot allow , you to wake a sacrifice of all you hold dear.' After he had gone, Helen sat for many mo ments, hem white hiinds folded, and lids droop ing'. All day she had held the passive form of her heart stricken mother. Selfish the lat ter certainly was, even in . her overwhelming sorrow, and Helen suffered thrice the anguish of broken hopes in witnessing her uncontrola ble agony. But, brave gill. she would not despond. She pressed the hot tears back with her trembling fingers, as she murmused,— "poOr mother, I cannot wonder at her grief ; brought up.so tenderly, she cannot. must not live in poverty. She shall at least imagine that she knows no want." Helen had changed her jewels jrito gold, fur nished a small room with some degree of ele , gance, paid the rent for a few weeks in ad vance, and had still a moiety of money in her purse. "Cheer up, dear mamma." she said, "we still have friends. You Will not want. I have even the'opportunity of procuring you a little servant, who will come to assist you night and morning. A man will brim , c your coal up to your door, and I myself will be your dressing maid. And you will have nothing more to do than you ever had, and you can finish your beautiful embroidery." The still elegant woman looked up with a pensive smile. "Ah ! but, my child, you will have no one TIONV to accompany you to and from the acade my ; you will not even have a carriage ; your poor little feet will be blistered with walking." flush of delight mounted to Helen's cheeks —her mother did .nut then even suspect that their means were wholly withdrawn, and she flied not - communicate her . plan—her daring plan that it would give her so much pain to unfold.. She tried in vain to find employment as a teacher. Youth, inexperience, beauty, delica cy of frame were all against her. Passing one day, with her green veil down, through a narrow street, she was arrested by a notice at a haberdasher's window. Several girls were wanted to learn hair-working. Mood wages would be given, etc. She entered, ivas engaged and immediately set herself down to this vocation. It was a terrible trial to her—ay ! and you may call it aristocratic pride, prejudice, what you will— but,it is terrible to one who has been a-6as totned to luxuries, whose coming and going haS been tenderly watched ; whose feet. have never known a more rude press than the thornless flowers on the rich niau's hall— it is bitterly terrible, and thrice terrible, for such a one to Lend to the stern behest of manual toil. Day after day she labored. and nightly too, __when _her_ mother slept. At the end oLevery Week, all her little earnings were gone—but Eau; contrived to set delicacies on her mother's table of which she would eat. sparingly herself. A large importer ct ho frequently came in to the work-room noticed this fragile creature, and often asked quei-tions concerning her. lie saw how timid sue. was, how small and white ---the-hand-that-t-%viiteilLin - aniid - the -- soft - loc - kw - of hair, how quickly the scarlet flitted over her cheek whenever she .caS Spohen to, and her re finement of manner lileased and interested flint. It set med to hint that she .vas WO? king be yond her strength, and once he sa.w her pi es.s r. de w e t'er% cot glance up v‘ ard, i;libLened W iU lcaro. hillil4 (..4grirulturr, ):itriaturr, 3115 net „iriturrg, 31Iarlat5, c rnrral= Vomrbtir .nub Auriga 3uttiligrart, rzburrtising, 2mustmtut, When he had heard the story. he was tilled with admiration. The humble little shop girl, who for a trifling consideration had been in duced to spend a few hours a-day in household' labor for Helen's mother, told him all. He resolved that. this pure, gentle creature should not sacrifice her life, even for the interest of one so dear as a mother, must be. lie knew not the whole yet, however. have called to see you, madam, with' re ference to your daughter Helen." The lady started, exclaiming, "nothing can have happened to my clad !" "Nothing. my dear madam'," he said, glanc ing at - the embroidery frame, the rich carpet, the beautiful etceteras of the apartment, only I fear the young lady alloWs herself too little Jest." T often tell her, sir, that she studies too hard. The rules of the academy are so strict,, I fear she will not be able to continue. Since her father's death. poor -child, she has waked all, the way to E street ; she al ways rode before, and as she has the manage ment of what little money was' left, I know she seldom affords herself even a cheap ride." "flier studies—the academy ?" exclaimed her visitor, rind then he repeated them over. slowly, as if to be sure he had heard the words aright. •~Y'es, sir : her father died at the beginning of the last term, and she is unwilling to lose the benefit, as he paid a year's advance. Dear child, I suppose she will have to become a teacher, or some such drudge,"—and she sighed heavily. ‘•Madam—l—excuse me—it cannot be the Helen Harding I had heard—and yet—the cir; cumstances ! Madam, does not , your daughter work in a haberda . her's shop ?' • Poor Mrs. Harding screamed out right. "My dear sir, do you think my child would descend"—and there she stopped. Her face grew deadly pale—Some thrilling thought forced itself upon her mind. "I remember now," she said - slowly, and with an effort—qlelen never told me , she should continue at school—and -I, oh ! how helpless I have been ! how unthinking ! If it be,—dear sir, describe this Helen." "It is she," she exclaimed, springing to her feet, and bursting into tears. - Noble, gener ous child ! self-sacrificing daughter ! Oh ! could I not comprehuid ? Iler pale cheeks—her eyes so heavy—her slow step. Noble, geiiev• ousehild ! and she has done all this for me— to spare her mother the pangs of wounded pride—she is wearing herself to the grave for me." • . ; , z- • Bitterly - she 'wept for some moments, and her, visitor, venturing to speak in' a choked. huSky voice, only ended by snapping his eyes and flourishing his handkerchief; some where in their vicinity. "This shall be no longer," at last she said, rising with dignity. ‘.True, I have never la bored ; true, I am proud—l shall henceforth be too proud thus to live in idleness, dependent upon the labor of •my delicate clfild. I will go forth into the world. I can do something —the widow's God will aid me—for her self sacrificing efforts have put new life within this weak frame." "Do not apologize, sir ; you cannot tell what an inestimable blessing your call has proved to me ; and, sir," she continued. looking at him with eyes.filled anew, "have I nut reason to be proud of my child ?" What had hitherto seemed dross, now prov ed to be fine gold. All selfishness, all - indolence were gone, and Mrs.llarding had become trans formed into an energetic woman, willing and anxious to take her place in the travel-stained paths of toil. But there was no need. The wealthy stranger, pleased with her manners, loved, and won her for a wife. Deleu, who had tasted both the sweets and the • aloes of life, moved again in the brilliant circles to which she had been adcnstomed.. But more than for all her varied accomplishments, was she loved and admired for the noble sellsacii flee of feeling, -taste, and even health she had made, that her mother might be spared the pain of even imagining she was poor. Filial love is always rewarded by the great Giver may bath commanded us to "Honor Father and Mother." Pointed Extract. in one of Rev. E. 11. Chapin's sermons is the following pointed extract : "Many a man there is, clothed in respecta- bility, and proud of his honor: whose central' idea of life is interest ,and ease, the conception that other men are mere tools to be used as will best serve him, that God has endowed him with sinew and brain Merely to scramble and get : and so in this grand universe, which is a perfect circulation of benefits, he lives like a sponge on a rock, to absorb and bloat, and die. Thousands in this great city are living so, who never look out of the narrow circle of their self-interest ; whose decalogue is arithmetic, whose -13 i ble - is - theirledger -- ; - who have so con• tracted and hardened and stamped their nature, that in any spiritual estimate, they would pass for only so many bogus dollars.—Ex. A man who is very rich now, was very poor when a boy. When asked how he got his riches, he replied, "My father taught my never to play till my work was finished, and never t o spend iny money till I had earned it. If I had but an hour's work m a day I must do that the very, first thing. and in an hour. After it was done, I was allowed to play; with much more pleasure than if the thought of an unfinished task obtruded upon my mind. I early formed the habit of doing evei•ything in turn, acid it soon became perfectly easy for me to do so. It is to tins I owe my proverity." -Let every boy that muds this go and do likewise. r7Beautiful is the love of youth to youth, strong the affection of woman to woman, and fair in the eyes of the morning sun is the ear ly waking from peaceful sleep and the utterance of the pleasant "good morning."—liulwer. E, - 7 - Memory presides over the past—action presides over the present. The first lives in a rich temple hung with glorious trophies. and hoed with tombs: the other has no shrine but duty and it walks the earth like a spirit. 'Riches are gotten with pain, kept with care and 1o:4t with grief. The care of riches tic heavier upon a good man than the inconvenience of lionest poverty. 37 Fear God and keep his commandments ,tliieffjthe sole dut • of deac-on sybo took up a cullection bas 1 - '7 - The laid it </lAA U so ila• Good. GETTYSBURG, PA.: MONDAY, JUNE 4,1.855. Nobleness olsoa An incident occurred a few daysago, whic will probably prove a strong argument, in the hands of crusty bachelors, against matrimony, ' and may possibly be used by them in tlleic ti-` rades against. the innate generosity of the fair sea. An unfortunate, woman. whose husband had been sick. during the whole winter,' and whose savings were-all spent ; a woman whose poverty spoke out through every fold of .her dress, and her emaciated. form, in her pale. care-worn; haggard and pinched.fca tures, not wishing to throw herself upon the cold ,chari ties of her neighbors, called at a certain pri vate house m 'York street near Barrow, and after stating her case in. a few f..eling words, took from her linger a plain gold ring, - which she offered to the lady fur a small sum, to en able her to relieve the gnawing demands of hunger. The lady -told her, in the nobleness of heart, that she would give her the generous sum of twenty-live cents fur it, at the same time putting that tnunille nt amount into her tivi,hered hand. The stifle 'ng creature .could n refuse it, but blinded b . calling tears, turned from the door; her soul crushed and harrowed with anguish. It was a ring.around which many pleasant associations, clustered. a memento of happy days, the pledge of pure allection, given at. the altar by him who was then the idol of her young heart—the father of her hapless children ! It ,told of 'blissful hours, of times of plenty and content. when affection's light tilled the eye .now gushing with tears. She tinned away from her mean smiled sister whose heart warmed not toward her sufferings and whose purse-string closed the tighter at the very presence of poverty. The ring may sparkle upon the finger of the sordid lady, but the tear in the eye of the poor woman was a jewel prized by her Heavenly Father as she lifted her heart to him and said —‘‘Thy will be done."---Jersey City Telegraph.. How Much . to be admired is youth, when noble and generous—when pure and holy feel ings like a living fountilow out of the heart —spreading around and fertilizing the soil of friendship—warm and generous hearts to crowd around him and enclose him in a circle of pure god-like happiness. The eye of the woman brightens at his approach, and wealth and honor smile to woo him in their circle. his days speed onward, and a summer brook sparkles all joyous amid the light of woman's love and manhood's eulogy. The earth, the sea, the air, and every bright and bubbling stream and fount send forth their murmuring melody, and his ',lnv heart, unstained by worldly guile, drinks deep in their glowing happiness. EXCESSIVE POLliENKSS.—Rowland Hill 'was always annoyed when there happened to be any noise in the chapel. or when anything oc curred to divert the attention of his hearers from what he was saying. On one' occasion; a few days before his death, he was penciling to one of the most crowded congregation , : that ever assembled to hear him.' En the middle of his discourse, he observed a commotion in the gallery. For some time he took no notice rif, it, but finding it increasing, he paused in his sermon and looking in the direction in which the confusion prevailed, he exclaimed : “What's the matter there ? The devil seems to have got among you ” A Wain country looking n►an immediately started to his feet, and addressing Mr. Hill in reply. said: -No, sir, it aren't the devil as is doing this : it's a fat woman wot's fainted ; and Ml►e's werry fat 'un, sir, as she don't seem likely .to come too again in a hurry." "Oh, that's it. is it ?" observed Mr. Hill. drawing his hand across hi:chin :"then,l beg the lady's pardun—and the devil's too." , NOT BAD.-A correspondent of the Cincin nati Times, from Vermont, relates the follow ing : lum reminded, speaking of cheese. of a, little anecdote the stage-driver told me the other day. We were passing an old farm house .with an untidy yard and dilapidated building when he said: '•A Boston man got off a pretty cute speech to the owner of that place t'other day." "•What was it ?" i asked. "Why, he called at a house lo buy cheese. but when he came to look at the lot, he con cluded he didn't want 'em, they were so full of skippers. So he made an excuse and was going away, when the tanner said to him . : "Look here. mister, how can I - get my cheese down to Boston the cheapest ?" The gentleman looked at the stuff a moment and saw the squirming, and said : "Well I don't know ; let 'cm he a day or two and you can drive'ca► right down!" WHY DOES THE OAK. ATTRACT TETE LIGHT NING . I—The frequent effects of lightning upon oak has excited the attention of the philosoph ic mind. After mentioning several examples of the manner in which the oak has been sin gled out from other trees immediately joining, and of equal height, a writer upon the subject says: "It is well known by chemists that oak contains a considerable portion of iron in its composition. This metal, it may he presum ed, is held in solution by the sap, and equally distributed throughout the whole tree.—Jlay it not be owing to this circumstance that the oak is so frequently a victim to that power, which in fact it solicits with extended arms, to its own destruction I—This is a fact worthy of notice. and should be generally known, in or der to prevent persons taking shelter in situa tions attended with such imminent danger." is rather curious to consider how peo ple generally associate anything of a cheerful and jolly characer with eating. A merry andrew or turns a sornetNet and comes on with "Ilere we are, my masters ;" where upon the-various nationalities greet him with pet names out of the cookery-book. The Englkliman calls out—" Jack Pudding!" the Dutchman cries ..Pickle-Ilerring ;" the Ger man, -.John Sausage" (Was Werst) ; the Frenchman, "Jean Potage ;" the Italian, —Mac aroni'." 1-) -- --The Wyoming "Mirror" relates a good joke of an old collector, who *as proverbial for his politeness as well as pertinacity. lle was always in the habit of taking a delinquent aside vv lieu he dunned him. One day he suet a non. payer, upon a very unfrequented road, some halrniile from any human being. What does the old chap do,- but leave his buggy, call the o o iet aside, and in a fence Coiner politely ask him tur that little balance : 177:T0 prevent cats frvm ann(')in i ; you— bitout L l / 4 ..W dicy "Turin IS MIGHTY. ANDr WILL•PREVAIL." Youth. An Auction Scene. “Gentlemen. I am offering you a bargain',” C 7 ed an up-town auctioneer the other evening, to , crowd. the most oi' whom were country pe handkeretiteffs a regular pon gee and can't be purchased in a store for less than two dollars and a half, and here I've on ly two , bits bid. It's a shame, gentlemen, to sacrifice goods in this way." • Here one of the crowd, a strapping young Hoosier, his horn." - and. in doing so managed to dispense with the article which was being offered for sale. The auctioneer observing this, took it for a favorable omen, and fixing his eyed on the young Hoosier, asked: "•Did you blow your nose, sir This of course,_ attracted all eyes to the in dividual, but he, not abashed, replied, “Woll,l reckon I did•” “And didn't use a handkerchief 3” This query caused a roar of laughter, for auctioneers, such as'-this one, always manage to iinpiess their audience that every thing they say is witty. The young Hoosier, how ever, not in the least 'disconcerted, replied : reckon I didn't." ...Now, gentlemen, do you hear that," cried the auctioneer. pongee like this going off at two bits. a man in the house got nothing to blow his nose on, and won't bid on it. (laugh ter.) X can't imagine what neck of the woods the animal came ftOm (laughter.) Probably fr&n that place where the men are so stingy that they load their rifles with - pebbleS instad of bullets." (Boisterous laughter.) '•l says, stranger," erica the young IloOsier, quite animated, ..did you ever hear of Dick ''ompson 3" - • ..No,", replied the auctioneer, winking tithe crowd. —So I reckoned," continite&the Hoosier.-- "He lives. down our way, and is counted not overly cute. Ile cum to town w mist, an' right in here bought one "of yer pongee hatlker chiefs,and what do you think he said abOut it?" A-Praised it, no doubt," replied the auction• ter. • "Over the left," said the Hoosier. "Though he's got a little smib nuse. not nigh as big as youru, the first time he vie! the hankkereheef he blowed nineteen holes in it, and ever since that are time he's used his coat tail !" The laugh was now upon the auctioneer, and not only that; but finding himself' unable to get another bid, he soon dismissed his audience until the Hen evening. • Gossipping, Many a fine woman . has lost her reputation through =the gabbling of mischief-making gos sips ; indeed the whole history and progress of scandal nitiy be traced to something like the following, which is rather wore at large than a piece of the same nature heretofore pub lished : •.Mrs. Hopkins told mo she heard Sam Grubbs wife say, that Johu Harris's wife told her, that Granny Smith heard,thatit was no doubt the widow Baker said; that Captain VootPs wife thought, that Col. Lane's wife believed, that old. Mis. Lamb reckontrd, posi tively, that Peter Dunhatu's with had told Nell Cuscudgen, that her..mint had declared to Mrs. Thinguthbob and the whole world, that it was generally believed that mother Parker had studio plain terms, that she heard Betsy Cook say. that her sister PoUy had said, that it was V{ ell kium n in the neighborhood, that old Mrs. Slouch made no bones of saying, that in her opinion, it was a matter of fact. that Susan Miller was in the weekly habit of dying her hair !" fr7A youth. whose progressive proclivities had not been chilled in a life of hoventeen win ters, marched into an Ahreiman's office in Pittsburg, last wcck, in company with a lass of twelve sumtners. and asked to be married "quick."' The magistrate being an old "fogy," refused. Whereupon the youthful individual. taking his companion's arm . in his, and turn ing away in wrathful indignation, exclaimed : "This is a great free country, where men and women can't,get married when they pleal6l" a7"Peter. what are you doing to that boy?" said a schoolmaster. "Lie 'ivanted to know if you take ten from seventeen how t►►any will rema►n ; so I took ten of his apples to show his►, and now he wants that I should give 'in) back." "Well, why don'tyou do it f" "Cause, sir, he would forget how many was left." 0 - 7 - " Why don't you give us a little Greek and Latin occasionally ?" asked a country deacon'of the new minister. "Why, do you understand those langua ges ?" —No : but we pay for the best, and we ought to have it." DANGHILOCS.—The Scientific American Call tjOns its renders against the use of painted pails. and says the oxide of lead, with which pails aro painted, is a dangerous poison, and has been known to be productive of evit in many cases. ry_".Whatever - Clod has made is perfect," said a wesiern preacher to his hearers. "What do you think of me, then ?" said a hunchback, rising up and exhibiting his own deformity. "Think of you ?" said the preacher. "why I think you are as perfect a hunchback as I ever saw in my life." f' - 'fit Virginian of twenty-three was lately throwing out some affected sneers at matrimo ny, when a grave friend in company olyserved, that marriages were mnde in heaven. "Can you, tell me. sir," rejoined the sly nymph, "why they are so 8/,,w in coining down?" Ir'7"•l3ob, did you settle that business with Simpkins, yet ?" "Fes—he kicked me off the stoop last. week. and since that he has stopped bothering me." Bob's ideas of —bothering" are certainly original. E7A queer genius being asked why he did not go to :he toneral of his wife. replied he could not leave his shop, and that it is always best to attend tolnisiness before pleasure. - n- - ;"Wehaveohserved n►any turn hl es through life, but have invariably noticed that it is the man who mounts a high horse that receives the least pity when he tails. 7There is an old lady in Troy so full of sympathy, that every tittle her ducks take a bath in the rand glitter, she dries their feet by the the, to keep thou from catching cold. English Gold' and French Wit. Talleyrand . had one of the . most amusing salons in Paris, fur all the -politicians and diplomats of that day were wits and cotiVersa tionists. Diplomacy. had not then taken the mysterious and sombre aspect it has assumed in modern days; perhaps Jiecause in these-days_ it. had too much to do. and need not the . at; fectation.of importance ; just as sines the in vention of telegraphs and railroads. Abet* seems to have been in the political world noth ing extraordinary enough to communicate by such a wonderful messenger. In later years, Talleyrand loved wit better than conversation. leaving his accomplished niece, the Duchess de Dino, to entertain his other guests, he would retire with some of the foreign ambassadors, old friendis and old- foes, into 'his own rem, and play a scientific rubber.* the intricacies of which it was Coriolis to watch, seeing that the talents whicb were . em ployed to settle the division_of Eutope at the Congress of Vienna, were now. all concentrated on the odd trick. The stakes were gold-pieces. but they often reached the sums of thousands of francs. Otte evening. at the termination of one of these par ties, the English ambassador suddenly dived beneath the table and began fumbling on the carpet. ~ 1V hat is your excellency about 1" said Tat leyrand. “Leoking for a Napoleon. which has fallen." "Wait an ins ant," said Talleyrantl, with a twinkle of hislight grey eye; and a sarcastic twist of his - thin and distorted lips. ..you can not see to find so small thing." ,As he Spoke. -- he twisted a. thousand franc bill into a paper match, and setting fire to it, held it to the ground; ""What are - you. - about ?" exclaimed the as." tounded ambassador. pill/Aug on his lianda-and knees. and looking .up., “31erely lighting your excellency. ° 'replied Tallevrund. Upun which the discomfited minister, un derstanding the epigram. instantly arose. leav ink; the Napoleon as a perquisite for the scram who bilOtlid HMI it. A Rich Joke. A gentleman in this place, played a rich joke on his better half the other day. Being something of au epicure. he took it into his head, that he would like to have' if first-rate dinner. , So he addressed her a note, politely informing her that gentleman of h6r.:sel quaiiitance—an old and true friend, would (the with her that day." As soon as she received it, all hands went to work to get everything in order: ecisety - at 12 o'clock she was pre pared to receive her guest. The ,house wrse=as clean as a new pin—a sumptuOus ,dinner was on the table_ nn d she was arrayed in. her hest attire. A gentle : knock was heard; and She started, with a palpitating heart toll° door. She thought,it must be an old friend--perhaps a brother—from the place' whence they once moved. On opening the: door. she saw her husband with a smiling countenance. "Why. my dear," said she.'in an anxious tone, -where is the gentleman you spoke of in your note 1" • “Why," said her husband complaCentlY, "here he is." "You said a gentleman of my acquaintance, an old and true friend would dine with us to day." Well," said he good humoredly, "am T not a gentleman of youy acquaintance, an old and true friend ?" , . , "Oh !" said she distressingly, "is there no body but you -No." "Well I declare this is too bad," said ,his wife, in an angry tone. The hughmol laughed immoderately—his better half said she felt like giving hint a tongue lashing—but finally they sat down cozily to gether, and 'for once he had a good dinner without having company. A FACT FOR FARMl.ttB.—Dr. IL I. Baldwin has recently made public the result of several years' investigation' and experiments upon manures. and variottaivays of fertilizing the soil. Ile states -that the best and speediest. wiry to fertilize any soil, is to cover it over with straw. bushes, or Any. raw material. so as to completely shade it. The - surface of the earth thus being made very cool, dark, damp and close. soon under-goes a chemical process like•putriflcation. and becomes highly fertiliz ed. This plan of fertilizing, he says, may be applied with success to any soil. whatever, no matter how poor, and the result will be as tonishing. A N EsoitMors Ronx.—The largest room in the world under a single roof and unbroken by pillars or other t obstructions. is at St. Petersburg. Russia. and is 650 feet in length. and 150 feet in breadth. By day light it is used fbr military displays, and a battalion can conveniently manoeuvre in it. In the evening it - is often converted into a vast ball room, when it is warmed by sixteen prodigious stoves, and 20,000 wax tapers are required to light it properly. The roof of this structure is a single arch of iron, the bars alone on which it rests weighing 12,830 pounds. Moan PROIIIIIITTON.—The Boston Times, Npeakmg of the determination to enforce the ordinance against smoking in the streets. sug gests that musk and patchouli he also prohib ited. They are far more offensive to most peo ple than the smoke of a good segar. 137 - Dr. Crisp, of London. has been dissecting singing mice, and has found that they all, without exception, have a large worm in the upper part of the liver, and he supposes their curious music to be an indication At pain. What is it. that goes when a wagon goes, stops when a wagon stops, it ain't no use to the wagon, and yet the wagon can't go without it? Why. it is the noise, to be sure. 7The man who •'threw up" a bargain, came near having his hat eruflied when it came down. . fr'When may two persons be said to be half-witted ? When they have an understand ing between them. - "'"./ ) isnch" says 4.a secret warranted to .. 4ceep in any climate, is a wotnan's age."—Llor rid Pcsnek. 3:7 Paradise Regained—Hugging a blue eyed girl on a pile of freshly cut clover. Go way, strawberries , you have lost your taste. [:.:17 - The fire that "went out" ,has not re turned. TWO DOLLARS A-YEAR. Address to a Choir. The following extracts are from an "address to a new choir of singers," found in an old magazine: As in every public address, the objectof the speaker should be to do good to his hearers, you will allow meta give you a few words of caution and advice adapted to - the occasion 1, Cultivate a spirit of harmony among your selves. One might. suppose 'that among those who profess to be lovers of harmony. sach caution would not be needed. It cannot. however. be coricealed. that *toy, frequently discords have been beard among those who have a knowltdge, of the ,harmony of sounds. A trifling incident induces, one individual to take offence, :and he leaves seat a feW - Of bite friends juttify. him, and pey all -leave. Thus enthrall the tiine.they have ltptntt. in -ac quiring At knowledge ,of, concord and harmony. In most instances; "the' evil! . - of w hick' 1 complain way lie, traced to Ignerance and pride.' • If persons were wise, they, would,not7tell an around them that - .they ,weie offended ; and were it not for 'pride, they *oat* not so' fre quently take offence.' - • . • Should you -bear a person . , injudiciously praised for sweetness and eatnkiasa ot,vOice,' that su rely' oeght not 'to' be considered. suti cient 'reason' for proeoking, your ilispleastne, or for causing you to withdraw ;from. the sent, You. do. not. I trust. come to the ,honiie'er Gixi w Maki a diSplay of your itiiiiiical•taleritti. - nor to be admired for the softnessend-tuellitinence of your voices. „Were th.eso, your, t00ti.,!*2,-Ii theatre would, lie the 'most suitable, 'Place ,to. exhibit pier inimical powetrel" but; if -they:4e. not. it will be unwise in' your to he Offended because another is, perhaps, itidioceeetly. tolled. -- • - Let me : entreat you to .- "esteein °thorn better than yourselves.! - 'Never , anew, yotitsclretv look with' envy ;on the extelietieo, of , your, Emulate,, but - never - err , / - .What la superior in ; others:' The Lord dos i not *hire' you to sing with the voiceamlakiltefinotheri but with your own voice -and ,your Above all things.-recollect. that it -is .no t. sweetness of a tingly modulated voice, bit It is the melody of the tiiiiii,tiiitiAtietordjAisieli Omniticience sipproyes. - 2. Let your deportment, be solemn-and re*, spectral in the house of God. Profit 'the °hien-Vidalia 'which,' have'. already been made, it rn baoheitniato **Oh nf, that solemnity and devotion *Coe thqse.wilo engage in .the praineset.Gocl.' become : I have been shocked With die Manner in which this part of worship - was conducted: , AWhitt have seen a number afoul%lo)9Pterabdin the trout ,gallery, .Whoee. light. end t.r ditet was more suited to a bill , ineirillunt the house of God, my. soul bas been grievetWithio I - must cenfeis t as an intlividlat, I had rith-' er your singing seat should' be' entirely cupied than any should lead in this weiship who have not'such a sense of propriety - -asl-to maintain a berionadepolinitiut in the house of . God. 3. Let yourection ottunen,beindieiont. If your tunes ar ijudiciously Selected-they . be adapted to the sentiments. contained_ in the psalm or hymn that 'is sung., If it is it, peni tential hymn, expressiie humiliation or grief, you will avail - yotirseliesOf those plain. Live and tender chords- which best express those inward :feelings. If it. iii a ,hymn,-4 prhise and thanksgiving.". you :Will employ those - bolder strains, which. indiCate 'joy and confidence in God . It is miportant I sheuld, remind yoti that a feeling 'conviction of the beauty and eiiixtllcdce of the kentiments contained in the liyinna4hat• are used, will give a spirit and' expression , to your singing, which mere art can, OPUr sup. ply. It is not Merely aingirig'• the,rintes e'er. reedy—it is having .the soulaffected and itn 'hued with the truths you sing: which Will produce the moat powerful and' impressive music. ' _ _ As it is the expression-oflntellect and of the affections.of the heart, spread over the canvass which' gives such 'interest and charms to ton pic- Lure, so it is the expression of the soul, yens. fused into the notes we'sing- which gives such effect to the human ,voice. But Lo tramituse this expiession of the soul; Weninst feel: and to feel as we ought. we must- have a just diar cerument of the excellence 'and importance, of the subject of our song. . - ' Let us suppose that one of the 'great profes sors of - music,.Handel.llaydn, or Mozart, un der the influence of penitential, feelings,. had sung the 51st Psalm, what soft, what tender and plaintive intonations of voice would have been heard. No one could have listened, to his notes without being melted into teat's. Had either of them, under the lively inipres mons of dependence. or gratitude to Hod. sung. the 100th Psalm, what deep ,self-abasement, , what. solemn awe, and what holy joy.. rising to raptures of ecstacy,•would have been felt while listening to the sentiments thus ex pressed. • -4. It is important that you should sing with melody in your hearts to the Lord. You are all sensible how harsh and grating discords are in music. It is a solemn, but it may prove a profitable interrogation: How will the ears of the Deity be pleased with the expression of the lips ,whieh are at variance with the feelings of the heart ? Will He he pleased witlithe notes of penitence, if the heart be impenitent ? with the voice' of joy and thanksgiving, if the heart be nut susceptibleef one grateful emotion Oh, how important, how desirable, that the heart and the voice should chord ! When this is the case, how sweet, hoti• acceptable the praise!! - CROSSING RAILROAD TRACKS. —T he Philaclet phia Ledger, to sho* the hazard in crossing railroad tracks, particularly in vehicles, pub lishes the following : A railroad car, at the ordinary speed of traveling. moves about twice its own length in a second of time—about twenty-four feet. this velocity the locomotive drawing - Wheels, six feet in diameter, make four revolutions per second. If a man with a horse and carriage Was crossing a railroad track at a *peed of sii miles an hour, and an express train should be ap proaching at the moment, it would advance toward him two hundred and -fifty-seven feet, while be was in the actor crossing a distance hartly sufficient to clear the horso and vehicle. Should the horse cross the track at the usual gait of a walk, the train would move towards him, while in the act of crossing, over five bun dled feet. • ire'llutiesty is the best of policy. - NO. .3G. 9 fl .
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers