THE STAR OF THE NORTH. B. W. Weaver, Proprietor.] VOLUME 8. ■■ •■■ ■ ■ THE STAR OF THE NORTH 13 rVBUSHKD EVERY WEDNESDAY JUORNINU BY , . W. WEAVER, OFFICE— Up stairs, in the new brick build ing, on the south side of Main Street, third square below Market. TERMS: —Two Dollars per annum, if 1 paid within six months from the time of sub scribing ; two dollars and ffl'ty cents if not paid within the year. No subscription re ceived for a less period than six months ; uo I discontinuance permitted until all arrearages ! are paid, unless at the option of the editor. ' ADVERTISEMENTS not exceeding one square J will be inserted three limes for One Dollar and twenty-five cents for each additional in- ■ serlion. A liberal discount will be made to [ those who advertise by the year. ORIGINAL POETRY!" j | For the "Star of the North." ! 1 THE ORPHAN. !' • !' Angela their watch are keep ing < Around the couch of rest, Where a lovely babe is sleeping Upon its mother's breast. ! 1 But ah! the mother's pillow % \ Death's form is hovering o'er; And from that silent slumber She'll never waken more. Thou'rt left, poor helpless infant . Without a mother's care, . For cold and lifeless is tho form That rests beside thee there. Sleep on—thou knowest not that sho Beside thee is so cold, Or that a grave both wide and deep Thy father's corse doth hold. Oh! clay cold are the lips that oft Upon the young babe smiled; Then lake unto thy home and heart Thy little orphan child. Protect it in its infancy And guard it in its youth; And kindly, gently guide it In the paths of Love and Truth. And should the world's unkindness e'en Bid sorrow's tear to start, Then with the balm of sympathy Go, heal the orphan's heart. Hemlock, Col. to., Pa. LILLIAN. | [T/ tnsluted from the French of Geiard,ly Chas. i G. Whitehead ] THE ADVENTURESofa LION•KILLER. I LION KILLED ON HIS OWN HEARTHSTONE. j 1 left the douar with several Arabs, follow- ! ing the tracks the lioness had made when Carrying away the stolen sheep. Her course ! lay along a path, thai lay parallel with the one j I had been watching, and 1 could see in the j snow that she had walked at an easy puce, stopping Irom time to time, to tub off the ! snow that dogged to her lee'. At about a j mile and a half from the douar we cuine to j the place where she bad dined. There was j no'bing remaining of the old lady's sheep j but its skin, which had been neatly pulled ! off, and was rolled up and cast aside with 1 the extremities of the fore legs. From here ' the trail ran on for about a pistol 6kol, and j then went into the woods. Here the Arabs came to the conclusion, that it would be sa last for them to wait und kindle a fire, not in- | tending in the least to hinder me, in case I desired to carry my researches any further, lladier pleased than otherwise to be free frotn their company, I continued on the trgil alone, and followed it into the woods being armed with iny double barrel tifle and a pon iard. As I advanced into the woods, the walking became more difficult, and the close vault of trees overhead more compact,aud every min. ute 1 was obliged 10-stop to unfasten my bur nous that had caught in the bushes, until fi lially, I took it ofl altogether and left it be hind. At about a half a mile from the edge of the woods, 1 saw what I thought was the lion's cover. It consisted of a dense thicket ol olive trees, about a hundred yatds in cir cumference, and so closely pecked that it formed a perfect rouf; snow ludsr. above, but dry beneath, and warm with the soil sittings of the many foliaged Hues, a goodly chamber for the forest queen. The place seemed to breathe the, very odor of sanctity, and 1 could see here aud there the marks of her majes ty's feet, or more sacred still to plebeian eyes, the very impress ol her person as she bad Uiu here and there where faucy led her. Knowing how soundly the lion sleeps after hs has well eaten, I hoped to be able to reach her while still in dreamland, and to awaken her by the ringing of my rifle. So I advanc ed slowly, step by step, with my body bent, and my eye following the trucks or scanning lite thicket around me. Sometimes s thorn Would catch my eliirt and hold me hack, sometimes a vine had fastened its strong ten dril across my path, and I would have to stop to free myself with the greatest caution, or on bands and knees glide uuder the obstruc tion. Finally, I came to a halt, before an olive tree closer than any of the others, under whose low sweeping branches the lioness had gli ded, crouching like myself. In vain I tried to see behind these branches, they formed an impenetrable veil that shut out all eyes from the lady'i bower. I "was curtain she must be here, it was directly in the middle of the grove, which was not a very large one, and aa I had been all around it I waa sure that aha bad not passed out after enteriiq; it. As the conviction forced itself upon my mind, my btart beat so full with emotion, that I was obliged to keep quiet for a moment or two that my blood might flow on its ac customed coarse. When I became perfectly collected again, I carefully pushed aside the branches that impeded my view with the end of iny gun. 1 woe right—there lay the lioness not five Steps from me, stretched on her side, with iter bead pillowed on one paw, dreaming in BLOGMSBURG, COLUMBIA COUNTYfTA., WEDNESDAY, JULY 9, 1856; ' perfect quiet, with the soft respiration of a girl in her slumbers. 1 made ready to fire, but when my gun was at my shoulder, and my eyo ran along the barrel, I found myself in a most perplexing situation. The lion was lying in such a manner that I could see the whole of her form, and yet being obliged to fire while kneeling, I feared lest the horizontalposition of her body should injure my shot. In a dangerous position, haste or delay are \ equally bad ; but inspiration came to my i mind to free me from my troubles, and 1 a dopted a bold course. Rather than send a doubtful ball ball into the jaw? of the animal, or into the uncertain regions of the heart, I resolved to awaken the lioness, and only shoot when sho should raise herself up. In order, therefore, that her uwakentng might be calm and natural, I proceeded with the greatest caution. While my iell hand held my gun to my shoulder, with the right I broke a little twig at my side. The lioness slept on. I broke another a little louder. Hatdly had my hand reached the trigger before the lioness was on her bel ly. Her eyes lazily opened, her ears were lain back on her head, her lips moved up and down, and her glance, fearful with its fixed intensity, wandered around her cham ber to seek the cause of the undefined sound that had caught Iter senses. Before she saw me I sighted her right ear, and fired. The smoke of my gnn lay so heavy in the air that 1 could not see belore me, but I heard a short strangled roar, that sounded like a good omen. Soon I could see the lioness stretched out where she was lying when 1 tired. Her sides heaved, and her leet moved back and forward with a quick, convulsive motion. I saw in an instant that she was only stun ned, and would bo ou her feet in a moment more. | 1 hastily wound my turban around my arm and sprang into the cover. Without losing u moment, I placed the muzzle of nty guti to j he.r head and fired. The bold spiyit that rul ' ed the wouds was quenched with the report ; of my gun, and her graceful form lay at uiy | feet a corpse. [ 1 found my first ball had entered at the | corner at her eye, and gone out at the lop of I the head, fracturing the skull without pierc j >ug 'I- In an bcur after my shots had been heard, this part ol the forest, heretofore so silent and sacred, was invaded by a crowd of Avtbs, who, with a thousand wild cries and songs, placed the body of the lioness upon a rough lit'.et, and bore iu iu slate to the douar.— There it was lain upon a mat in the centre of :he village, a black bull was killed in hon qj ol the pa'ron of Saint, Sidi-Amar, and the entire (light devi teJ to festivities. It v. us a spectacle worthy of an artist's pencil, and a fantastic and memorable event to an eye that was used to the daily life of the nomads. The fires of cork and oak wood flashed bright, while moving groups and spreading trees cast dark shadows ou the background of snow. In the red light the women of the douar wont to and fro, as they distributed the flesh of the beast and the lioness. By the caldron that would have boiled an ox, Ad dallah, the minstrel, chanted rude songs ol valorous deeds, and the softened note of a flute came ftom the woman's tent. Here the girls babbling away some ro mance of their fancy, there were grouped the men holding high converse on warlike deeds and talking powder and ball. The birds in the park lowered at the unwonted light, the dogs came in aud out from the shadow to seize a stray morsel, and pet gazels shook their heads, and rung their bells doubtfully at the bonlires. Then, swelling and flying, the war-song ruse on the air to the clapping of hands, and the gleams of waving steel, und all the people—wild phantoms draped in their white burnous, arose to their feet as will arise one day the dead that lie iu tho valley of Jehose pliHl. Tho women sound the shrill battle cry, the men reply with the firing of guns, which roll awav on the hills und come back in repeated echoes, ar.d then the spectres sink again to the ground, and only the sigh ing flute bteaks the sudden stillness. The scene excited ray faucy with its beau ty, and my pride was its triumph; and I can never forget its kindly memories or the grate ful hearts ol these mountaineers. When the stars gave place in the sky to the reddening dawn, the women retired to their tents. The men gathered around the tomb of Sidi-Amar, and with their faces to Mecca, devoutly listened to their holy seer as he recited the morning prayers. Then, one by o te, the whole tribe came to me to bid me fa.ewel!, and 1 leaped in my saddle and pricked over the plain towards Guelmu, with a heart at ease with myself, arid lull of emotion at the curious life I bad witness ed. i LION THAT DEVOURED THE WHOLE FACULTY OF A COLLEGE. There was once a mosque on the old road from Constantino to Baiua, that went by the name of Jemael-Bechivu, and its ruined min arets exists to this day. The holy men who inhabited thia retreat had raised a young lion that was brought in by the Arabs, but after it had uearly attained its growth, the ungrateful scholar finding the path ol religion a thorny road suddenly dis appeared. in a little while after, the douars that were located in the neighborhood of the mosque, became the prey of its heretical appetite. One evening the head of the holy fathers of Jemael-Bechiva was missing from pray ers. The next evening one of his assistants was found absent from his supper, a thing very unusual with a good Mussulman. So on for forty days, one by one, the num ber of these wise me( diminished gradually, tho responses became fainter at prayers and the platters fewer at table. The lion lay in ambush by the brook, and when they came down to make their daily ablutions, they found their vat into his infidel maw. It was not until the fortieth professor hud disappeared, (a whole faculty devoured by a lion,) that the ten of the lailhlul who-remain ed look the belter part of valor, and emigra ted to a safer country, und the mosque was deserted. Then the having coarser fate scended to the laity, and the road, seized on every ed, until he had placed a perfect^^^^^^^H and there was not an as he might be, that dare go the daytime. At last the lion growing perfect isolation that his preditnry imposed on himself, left the country probably"? in search ol unother mosque, and thence-1 forth, the El-Bechiva road was traveled by i every one in perfect security. A NEW KIND OF LION's BAIT. I came back to rny post where I had left ! my two men about midnight, and feeling 1 very much fatigued, selected a thick-set tree by the side of the path, and lay down for a nap, bidding my eaphi keep a good watch until 1 awoke. The Arab stretched himself! out a little distance, a few minutes was snoring like a wiudtnilT. It was a night of perfeefbeauty. The full moon poured down a flood of silver that roll j ed off the trees, and lay knee-deep on all the | fielils of grain and glossy knolls. "Here and [ there a cultivated patch of ground showed its I fruitful breast amid the woods, margined with j the stately trees of ages ago. The aiq was | warm and fresh, the wind was whist, and no soutid met the ear, save the murmur of in sects in the air, or the bumping ol beetles as , their shardy whing came against the white ] borked trees. The shadows lay heavily un j der tHe loliage where we were stationed, j though the Arab slept in the full moonshine I that gleamed oil his burnous while as snow. 1 saw for a while around me the pleasant ' view utsoolviug awd)' in the mists of sleep, when 1 tell my arm gently pulled by my i spuht. 1 slowly raised my head, and follow- - | ing his eye, saw on the pathway, at about u hundred paces from us, two lions silting | down side by side. i 1 thought at first that wo had been dis-' I covered, and was preparing to tire away as I best I could, but then again I reflected that i we were in the shadows, partly concealed by the bushes, while the happy native was' j lying in the lull light of the moon. It was evident it was lie they were watching. I i lotbade my comrade to awaken him, per suaded that he would be proud of his share ; in the adventure alter it was over, and care j fully rising to my feet, stood behind the trunk of the tree to watch the operation of the ene my. The distance between me and them was only a hundred yards, and yet they must have taken a lull hall hour to cross the inter vening distance. The moon was shining bright on the path, but I could only sec them Irom time to time, as they raised their heads to see if the Arabs remained iu the satne place. They took advantage of every lull of giass and every stone to conceal their ap proach, gliding rather thau crawling and winding like snakes among stones or over sucks without the slightest uoise. As the leader hud come to within ten pa ces ol where I was standing, and to within flfleeu steps of where the Arab was snoring, and his eyes were ffxed upon the sleeping man with such a coucentrulioit of desire that 1 feared I had waited too long, and that he would make his spring belore I could fire. The other lion,-a few steps further on, placed himself abieast of his comrade, and it was not until then that 1 saw that both of the an- I imals were femu'es, but ot so large a size that I then sex was hardly recognizable. Their stealthy motions were feminine, though (he texture of their skin, their form and their roy- I al proportions has completely deceived me |us to their sex. How beautiful they were as they drew down, like pointer dogs on their prey, with every passion of their souls delin eated on their fuoes! I took aim at the shoulder of the first and fired. The repott of the gun and the loud roar of the wounded lioness brought the dreaming Arab with a bound to hie feet.— A second bait pierced her heart, and she fell dead at the very feel of the frightened man, who stood rooted to the spot by terri ble nightmare. Without losing any time, I changed guns with my spahi, and looked around for the other lioness. She was on her fet at a lit tle distance off, watching with amazement the scene before tier. As I look aim at her shoulder, she crouched down to the ground. 1 fired, and she rolled over, badly wounded, as it appeared, and sought safely in a corn field that bordered the road. On coming to the place where she bad been slauding, I could hear her inutteringa in the plantation, but did not tbiuk it was best tu follow her into the laud of shadows at such an hours— So we waited lor daylight, and thee followed the trail until it left the field, and entered the tvooda where it waa soon lost to sijht. Truth and Right Rod and our Country. FILLMORE'S POSITION Ac SPEECHES. At Newburg, on Thursday, in reply to a complimentary address, Mr. Fillmore spoke as follows: • ' Fellow Citizens of'Newburg: —Accept my cordial thanks for this unexpected but hearty greelirig. My friend has introduced me as the standard-bearer of the American party,! and a friend of the Union. For the fotmer position, I am indebted to my friends, who have, without my solicitation, made me their in the coining cam paign. "But 1 confess to you that I am proud of the distinction. I confess, also, that lam > a devoted and* unalterable friend of the' Union. I hava no joslilify to foreigners; 1 have witnessed ther deplorublr condition in the old country, antlgod forbid thaU should The free | of this fact. 'Bubif we value the -blessings which Providence, has so bountifully show- I ered upon us, it bA-omes every American to stand by the Constitution of this country, and to resolve that, Aide pendent of all for eign influence, Americans shuiband will rule j Apiprica. [Loud and long applause.] I feel, fellow-citizens,--"that 1 need hardly allude to the importance of maintaining this Union. I see the National flags floating from yonder heights, which marks the consecrated spot where, had his head-quar ters: The.re was performed an act of moral heroism, belore the braves deeds of Alexander palej and with which the greatest achievements ol ~ Bonaparte are not to be compared. cheering.] It was there, on that Aicred spot, now shaded by the flag of u free Republic, that Washington re fused a crown. [Great applause.] It was there that the officers of the Army, after our independence had been.achieved, made him the offer of a cro\yn, which he indig nantly tepefied. lam sure that I need not urge upon you who live in sight of that flag, the importance or dpty of. following the Fare well Advice'ol dietFatfiC" •kjhij- Country, to maintain the Uufott of the States as the safeguard of our liflerilies at home and the bulwarks of our defence against attacks from abroad, f Cheers.] ' Again I thank you most sincerely for this 1 cordial welcome to tny native soil. [Cheers] MR. FILLMORE AT ALBANY —HIS DENUNCIATION OF TUB HEFUBLICANS. Al Albany Mr. Fillmore responed to an address Irotn Mayor Perry in the following terms; Mr. Mayor and Fellow Citizens: Tills over whelming demonstration of congratulation and welcome almost deprives me of the power of speech. Here nearly thirty years ago, 1 commenced my political career. In this building I first saw a Legislative body in session—[Cheers] —but al that lime it uever entered into the aspirations ol my heart that I should ever receive such a wel come as this, in the Capitah of my native Slate. [Cheers.] You have been pleased, Sir, to allude to former services and my probable course if I should be agaiu called to the* position of Chief Magistrate of the nation. [Cheers.] Yon all know that when 1 was called to the executive chair by a bereavement which overwhelmed the nation with grief, that the country was unfortunately agitated from one end to life other upon the all-exciting sub ject ol Shivery. It was then, Sir, that 1 fell it my duty to rise above every sectional prej udice and look to the welfare of the whole nation. [Applause.] 1 was compelled to a certain extent to overcome long-cherished piejudices, and disregard parly claims. [Great and prolonged applause.] But in doing this Sir, I did uo more than was done by many abler and better men than myself. 1 was by no means rive soul inurrudMl, rmderProvt dence, in harnfoiiiziug . those difficulties.— [Applause ], There was at that time noble, independent, high-souled men, in both Houses of Congress, belonging to both the great political parlies of the country, —Whigs and Democrats,—who spurned the character of selfish -party leaders, , cheers,] and ral lied around my administration, in support of the great measures which restored peace to an agitated and distracted country. [Cheers] By the blessings of Divine Providence, our efforts were crowned with signal success, [cheers,] and when I left the Presidential chair, the whole uation was prosperous and contented, and our relations with all foreign nations were of the most amicable kind.— [Cheers.] The cloud that hung upon the horizon was dissipated; but where are we now ? Alas! Threatened at home with oivil war, and from abroad Wfih a rupture with our peaceful relations. P SfWV not seek to trace the cause of this change. These are the facts, and it is for you to ponder upon them. Or the present administration I have nothing to say, and can appreciate the diffi culties of administering this Government, and if the present executive and his support ers have with good intention and honest hearts made a mistake, I hope God may for give them as I do. [Loud and prolonged ap plause.] . But if there be those who hare | brought these calamities upon the country ' for selfish or ambitious objects, it is your dulv, fellow-citizens, to hold them to a strict responsibility. The agitation which disturbed the peace of the country in 1850 was unavoidable. It was brought upon us by the acquisition of new territory, for the government of which it was necessary to provide Territorial Ad ministrations. But it is for you to say wheth er the present agitation, which distracts the country and threatens us with civil war, has not been recklessly and wantonly produced by the adoption of a measure to aid in per sonal advancement rather thau in any public good. (Cheers.) Sir, you have been pleased to say that I have the union of these Slates at heart.— This, Sir, is most true, for if there is e ob ject dearer to me than another, it is the uni ■is great Repub iir, that 1 fear it of any partiuu ) several candi resume they are r, what do we g between the most exciting oodshed and or e see a political > fot the Presi selected for the ;es alone, with ng these candi | da'es by suflrages of one part ol the Union j only, to rule over the whole United States.— j I Can it bo pussible that those who are en -1 gaged in such a measure can have seriously I reflected upon the consequences which must inevitably follow in case of success? [Cheers] Can they have the madness or the fully to believe that our Southern brethren would submit to be governed by such a Chief Mag istrate? [Cheers.] Would he be required to follow, the same rule prescribed by those who elected him in making his appoint ments? If a man living south of Mason and Dixon's line be uot worthy to be President jor Vice President, would it be proper to se lect one from the same quarter, as one of his Cabinet Council, or to represent the na tion in a foreign country ? Or, indeed, to collect the revenue, or administer the laws of the United States? If not, what new rule is the tyesident to adopt in selecting men for office, that the people themselves discard in selecting him ? Ttiese are 6erious ! but practical questious, and in order to ap- j preciate them fully, it is only necessary to turn the tables upon ourselves. Suppose that the South having u majority of tho Elector al votes, should declare that they would only have slaveholders for President and Vice President; and should elect such by their exclusivo suffrages to rule over us at the North. Do you think wo would submit to it? No not lor a moment. [Applause.]— And do you believe that your Southern breth ren are less sensitive on this subject than yon are, or less jealous of their righls?— [Tremendous cheering.] It you do, let me tell you that you are mistaken. And, there fore, you must see that if this sectional par ty succeeds, it leads inevitably to the de struction of this beautiful fabric reared by our cemented by their blood, and bequeathed to us as a priceless inheritance. 1 tell you, rny friends, that I speak warm ly uu this subject, lor 1 (eel that we are in danger. lam determined to make a clean breast of it. I will wash my hands of the consequences, whatever they may be; and ' I tell you that we are treading upon the brink ol a volcano, that is liable at any mo -1 meat to bursl,forth and overwhelm the na -1 lion. 1 might, by soft words, hold out d ' lusive hopes, aiid thereby win voles. But 1 can never consent to be one thing to the North and another to the South. I should despise myself if 1 could be guilty of such evasion. [Tumultuous applause.] For rr.y conscience would still ask, with The dtamatic poet: "Is there not some secret curse— [wrath — Some hidden thunder red with immortal To blast the wretch who owes hi greatness To his oountry's ruin ? [Cheers.] In the language of the lamented, immortal CLAY —"t hud rather be right than bo Presi dent." [Enthusiastic and prolonged cheers.] It seeing to me impossible that those en gaged in this, can have contemplated the awlui of success. If it breaks asunder the bonds of our Union, and spreads anarchy and civil war through the land, what is it less than moral treason? Law and com mon sense hold a man responsible for the natural consequences of his acts, and must not those yvhose acts tend to the destruction of the Government, be equally held respon sible? [Applause ] And let me also add, that when this Union is dissolved, it wilt not be divided into two Itepublics or two Man archies, but broken into lragmeuts and at war with each other. Bui, fellow-citizens, I have perhaps said all that was necessary oil this subject, and 1 turn with pleasure to a less important but more agreeable topic. [Cheers.] It has been my fortune during my travels in Europe, to wit ness tftice or twice the reception of Hoy ally, in all the pomp and splendor of military ar ruy, where the music was given to order, and the cheers at word of command. But for myself I prize the honest, spontaneous throb of affection with which you have wel comed me baok to my native Slate, above all the pageants which royally can display.— [Cheers ] Theretore, with a heart overflow ing *ith grateful emotions, I return you a' thousand thanks and bid you adieu. [Pro longed applause.] Or The youngest member of the present Congress is the Hon- William Cutnback, be ing only 26 years of age. From the Public Ledger. "DIED OF EATING." Such would be the verdict of a coroner's jury, in but too muny cases, if coroner's ju* i ries sat upon all persons, whether dying by accident or in bed. If, in less fruitful laud*, people often die by famiue, here we die of too much eatinz. In New England, it is pies and sweet cake that kill; in the Middle , States it is a surfeit of good beef; in the South it is another thing ; in the West, still another; everywhere it is 100 much eating. The evil would be less if we were u more active people. It may seem strange to ac cuse Americans of a want ol activity; but while they give the brains plenty to do, or one set of muscles, they neglect everything else. Tho lawyer sticks to his desk, the minister to his study, tho shopkeeper In his counter, the merchant to his store. They eat and work, but take no recreation. They reduce themselves to mere money-making machines. They go one unvutiod round, like horses in a mill. It is wonderful, that, while living like hermits, yet gorging like fox-hunters, they gradually lay the seeds of diseases, varying accordingly to the profes sions they follow, yet all originating in over feeding, combined with neglect of exercise/ It is strange that they die ol too much eat ing? The season has cotne when thousands nl citizens go out of town. Their ostensible object is -the benefit of their health; ye t many will come back, in consequence ol excesses, far worse than they went. For tunately, in this age, excess in drinking is lesscummon than formerly, especially a rnong those classes who ate in the habit of annually going out of town; but the cognate vice of excessive eating, if anything, is on the increase. Gentlemen devour incredible amounts of ovslers, eat lobster salad to a miracle, indulge in terrapin without stint; in a word, over task their digestive organs in every way, andtheis express surprise that that they have headaches, feel dull, or are laid up with positive sickness. Ladies sur feit themselves on pastry and cake; lake uo exercise,except a bath, and not always even thai; and then wonder why the sea shore, the springs or the mountains do not agree with them, while they are guilty of too much eating. We Ixave Temperance societies, Corson leagues urnl Maine Law associations in plen ty. But who will found a "Society" on the discouragement of excessive 'eating,' which, to be frank with reformers, we need almost as much, liecollecl, wine bibbers and glut tons anathematized io thy sutne breath. . Tel man) a person who would not touch I strong drink, dies at last u victim to eating. j IN DEBI AM) HUT OF DEBT. , Of what a hideous progeny of ill is debt the ! father! What meanness, what invasion of j self-respect, what cares, what trouble! How j in due season, it will carve the frank open face into wrinkles; how, like a knife, it will ; stab the honest heart! flow it has been i known to change a goodly face into a mask of brass; bow, with the "doomed custom" | of debt, bas the man become lite callous trickster! A freedom of debt and what nour ishing sweetness may be found in cold wa-' ter; what loothsomeness in dry crust; what i ambrosial nourishment in hard egg. Be sure ! of it, lie who dines out of debt, though his meal be a biscuit and an onion, dines in I "the Appollo." And then for raiment—what' warmth in a thread-bare coat, if tbe tailor's receipt be in your pocket! what Tytian pur ple is the fadeu waistcoat, the vest not owed i for! How glossy tbe well-worn hat, if it cov ler not the aching debtor! Next the home I sweets, the out-door recreation of the free man. The street-door fallsnoia knell on his heart; the foot on the stair-case, though he live on the third pair, sends no spasm through his anatomy ; at the rap of his Coor he can crow forth, "come in," and his pulse still beat healthfully, his heart" not sink into Ins bowels. See him abroad. How he returns look for look with any passenger, how he saunters; how meeting an acquaintance he stands and gossips? But then this man knows not debt that oast) a drug into the richest wine; that makes the j food of the gods unwholesome, indigestible, I that sprinkles tbe banquet of a LucuJlus with ashes, and drops soot into the soup of an Em- j peror; debt that like the moth makes value less furs and velvets—inclosing the weaver j in alesteriug prison, (the shirt of Nessus was | a shirt not paid tor;) debt, that writes upon , frescoed walls the hand writing of >he altor- ] ney, that puis a voice of terror in the knock er; that makes lite heart quake at the flaunt ed fireside ; debt, that invisible demon that walks abroad with a man, now quickening his steps, now making him look on all sides like a haunted beast, and now bringing to his face the hue of death as the uuconscions pas senger looks glancingly upon him. Poverty is a bitter draught, yet ntay and sometimes will be gulped down. Though the drinker make wry faces, there may, after all, be a wholesome bitterness in the cup. But debt, however courteously it be offered, is the cup ol a syren, and the wine, spiced and delicious though it be, is poison. The matt out of debt though with a flaw in bis jorkin,. using 70,000 tons of | coal annually, -.tP II manufacturing 15,000 I tons of iron per year. The coal-field is the i largest known, being 65 miles in length, with | an average brsadth of six mileß, and a sup ! ply apparently inexhaustible. The field is | mainly wotked by three companies—the Delaware and Hudson Canal Company, whose mines are located at Carboodale, and who forward their coal by railroad to Hones dale, and thence, by cattal to Ilondout and New York; the Pennsylvania Coal Company, { whose works are at Pulsion, whence they { tiansport their coal by railroad, 45 miles to Haw ley, on the Delaware and Hudson Ca ' rial, and thence lo market; and the Delaware, Lackawanna and Western Railroad Com- I pany. Tito town is prettily located, with fine stores, large hotels, mammoth lactones 1 and tasteful dwellings, and is well supplied with churches and means of moral influence. There are four blast furnaces, and a fifth in 1 course of erection at an expense'of 830,000. The machinery is driven by Norris & Co'*. ' immense engines ~of 2,000 horse-power, 1 while in the rolling mill, the several opera ! tions of making pig and bar iron, railroad 1 axels and rails, are daily progressing, besides ail the new rails used by the Erie Company —and all used in constructing the Delaware, Lackawanna and Western, and Warren rail roads, and in making the double track of the New Jersey Central railroad are mauufaolur- I ed here. l'rinl it lo Letters oi Gold. I A father whose son was addicted to some i viscious propensities, bade the boy to drive a ; nail into a certain post whenever he commit j ted a certain fault, and agreed that a nail I should be drawn out whenever he corrected ! an error. In the course of lime the post was | completely filled with nails, I Tne youth became alarmed at the exteftt oi ; his indiscretions, and set about reforming [ himself. One by one the nails were drawn | out, the delighted father commended him for his noble, sell-denying heroism, iu freeing himself from his faults. 1 "They are all drawn oul," said the paretii. The boy looked ead,and there was a wfcoJU volume of practical wisdom ia hie ladueee.— 1 With a heavy heart he replied: "True, father, but the scars are still there-" Parents who would have their ohildren grow sound and henhhy characters must sow the seed at the fireside. Chytlable associations can telorm the man, and perhaps, make a useful member of society; but alas I the scars are there! The reformed drunkard, gamb ler and thief is only the wreck of the tnan he ' onee was—which will disfigure bis character as long as he shall live.— Vollvr Turwf. t3S*"A sentimental gent was describing . with the tonderest emotion the last moments , of a deceased friend, who was noted during life for his meanness. "He drew me ten derly towards his side, squeezed my hand, and gave me his watch." "Did he?" said a i bystander, "you are mistaken; you meant I to say, he gave ine his hand and squeezed his watch."