:A. BVERLER, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOIL
:irk -_,„34 •
.•!• ; ,
',4SIE7P2WISURG, Pd.
'HE Subscriber tenders his acltuowl
` edgments to the 'Public ror the liberal
and steady patronage with which he has
been favored fora - series of years, and re
spectfully' annennees that he hat; just re
ectred at his old established stand in
Chanaberitiurg street,. a large and fresh
eurt.tor or
MEDICINES, al-4
, wußate.toolutitulo c ,
Paints, Varnish, Dyestuffs ill
and every variety of articles usually found
I*-a Drug, store, to which he invitee the
Raabe of the Publie, with wisurantteslhat
they will be furnished at the most reason
able pr' s.
Thgabscriber has also largely increas
ed, his assortment of BOOKS, by an addi
.tional supply of
Classical, Theological.
School, and Mil-
A ..2.1,z cellaheous
_
\ •
- - BOOKS )
embracing almost every variety of Stand
ard and Popular Literature ; also,
Manic nooks and Stationery
of all kinds,'GOLD PENS, Pencils. Vis
iting and Printing Cards, Card Cues, Ink
stands, &c. &to., all of which will, as usual,
be sold g7'.- 4T THE LOWEST PRI
CES.
o.7Arrangements have been made by
which anything not included in hie assort
ment will be promptly ordered from the
S. 11. BUEHLER.
aettyshurg, Oct. '22, 1849.
0.71 have at present on hand an excel
lent assortment of BIBLES, plain and fan
cy, for school and family use—at very low
p rices.
'1 he ('Leap Book Store,
Opposite the 11.INk,Gettysburg,Penda
\_....,
Sign o( the .. ----, - 7\
BIG 800K. , \ ..\ \
-\-. \
EMPORIUM OF — 7 .27
STANDARD LITERATURE.
w IIEI2E may be found a large and
choice collection of the standard
works in the general deartinent of Litera
ture, including—
Agriculture, Domestic Economy, &c.
Biblical and Theological Mowry and Literature.
Biography.
History. Ancient and Modem.
College and School Books, •
Eisayists, Belles-Letters, Education, c.
Mental and Moral Science, Criticism.
Nonni Science, &c.
Voyages and Travels.
splendid Embellished NVorks.
Medical and Surgical Science, &e.
Dictionaries and Encyclopedias.
Politics, Political Economy, and Statistics.
Poetry and the Drama.
Juvenile Works.
Misrell3llCol.ll6 work..
The above with It general assortment of
Maps, guide Books, Charts, (lames, Sta
tionary, Ste., arc for sale at the Original
Cheap Milk Store or
KELLER. KURTZ,
Opposite the Batik.
•
March 17, 184 H.
1N THE M A . l TER of the intended application
GO A 11 CM A . Tnom r3Ol fora hicenseto keep•ta v
ein in the Borough of Gctlyeburg, Adams county
—being an old Aland.
E, the subscribers, citizens of the
township of the Borough of Gettys
burg, do hereby certify,thist we are personal
ly it well acquainted with Jas. A. Thompson
the shove named petitioner, that he is, and
we know him to be of good repute for hon . -
esty and temperance. and that he is well
provided with house-room and other con
veniences, for the lodging and the accom
dation of citizens, strangers, and travel
lers; and we do further certify, that we
know the House for,whickLicense is pray
ed, and from its situation and neighborhood
believe it to be suitable for a Tavern, and
that such Inn or Tavern is necessary to
accommodate the public and entertain
strangers and travellers.
Wm. 8. Itsiantoa, Wm. &sinner,
Peter Stansmith,
Wm. King,
I). Ziegler,
P. Augbinbsugh,
Alien Gtiest,
George Litt*
J. D. Danner,
Nickolas Weaver, George Geyer.
March 24; 1848.--.-3 t •
votiroz.
V HE first and final Account of °sonny
AL Swum Assignee of HENRY G.
WOLF, has been filed in the Court of
Common Pleas of Adams county, and the
Court'hive. appointed Monday the 17th
day qf, 40/next, Or the continuation and
allowance Of said account, unless cause to
the contrary,be shown.
' • Ar B. K URTZ, Proth'y:
Prothonotary'irOlike,
GettYs 6 UVIIMINIAIKY4B,S- r- • 3k•
*TOTiOg.
j iErrelta Tiiiiiirtientary yon the E s .
II •
tie of Atm POof
i ' at k u ' 4° 19 woliii!! oo'd, having been
grouted to the svisicliej;micling in said
township, be hereby gives notice to all
who axe hitiehASti .tos sa i d ESAVO Us call snd
PaY, the• sr.itlmut.4olo,, and those
hirong 4 4,l4l4o,*ro thttimt , •tq ,Pteoeut th e
at
ste prcipubf alAillanFipated,krvettientent.
13EQ..licauurvg,
March 24, 1847.0 t. , , ter,
:GT I , •
~ME4P3 of Administration - on the
,Estate of ANTHONY FLP.9llmAtv. late of
Nountpleasant tp. Adams eo. deceased, hav
ing, been granted to the subscriber, mei
/Jill in said township, he hereby gives no
give tti'ill indebted to said estate, to make
parh6Ml Without delay, and those having
elahnsio present the same, properly au
liwnlic4ted, for tlettleinent.
InVID' T. SNF,ZRINGER,
delner.
:IJareli 3,. 18 n 5.-60
i - ;":77.1
FRIItiTDSEITP:
at wtiii> l 111. Cll.l . 3lllTtlEc..
Amid the night of ertor's reign,
While all is dark and dress;
-'Ti. cheering to the weary meal
To het a Mend is near
One who through trials firm will stand
And yield a geberoue aid,
To bear above the storm, of time,
, A Wag God bath made.
We cannot claim a right to live
Aloof from others' woes,
And peas in splendid luxury
On to the grave's repose :
The wealth of earth may guild our path
And blind the rich mates eyes—
hot dt ! itcannot light the tomb,
Whene'er the "hit flies I
In every being.wri ahould.ses
And feel that life's Ant duty is
Our fellowship to lend
How moth of humeri woe would then
Be banished from our race I
And
ALL our acts would meet the smile
Of God's approving grace.
in vain the heart that goes astray
From virtue's seraph-guarded way
May hope that feelings just and free,
Meek peace, or firm integrity,
Or innocence with snowy vest ,
Will condescend to be its guest.
As soon within the viper's coil
Might pure and white-winged spirits dwell,
As soon the flame of vivid gleam
(Bow in the Chill and turbid sticani;
For by strong links, a viewless chain
Connects- our wanderings with our pain—
And heaven onlaina it thus, to show
That bands of vice are bonds of woe
THE. POISONED CUP
Away ! away with the poimoned cup !
It bath no charms for me I
Fill, till to the brim the goblet cup
With water pure and free—
With water from the mountain rill,
i'parkling and cool, the goblet fill.
The wineciip you offer, tho' radiant and bright,
Is stainod by the sigh and tear ;
It may give to the palate a momenta delight,
But how soon will Its glow disappear !
Each moment of pleasure In followed by pain,
And we fly to the wine-cup for succor in vain.
Oh! give me the nectar, pure gashing and free,
From the fountain, the streandet, or rill:
Sweet emblem of truth, source oral! purity,
, From thy offering . , my goblet I'll fill ;
From thee will I draw inspiration—in vain
Shall the tempter allure to the wino-cup again.
SPEAK NO ILL.
I 3=
Nay. speak no illl-1 kindly word
-Can never leave u sting behind;
And oh! to breathe each tale we've heard —
Is fir beneath a noble mind.
Full oft a butter seed is sown
By choosing thus the kinder plan ;
For if but little good is known,
Still let us speak the best we can.
Oise me the heart that fain would hide— 4
Would fain another's faults efface ;
How tan it pleasure human pride
To prove humanity but base I
No : let us reach a high t r_mood,
A nobler eliluilife of man;
Be earnest in the search of good,
And speak of all the best we can.
Then speak no ill—lint lenient-be
To others' failings as your own ;
II you're the first a fault to see,
Br not the first to make it known ;
Fur life is but a passing day,
No lip may tell how brief its span;
Then, oh! the hula time we stay.
Let's speak of all the best we can.
FLORENCE AND WALTER.
A LOVE SCENE FRQM DOMBEY & SON
I=!
[ A late number of Llouabey and Son contains
a passage that we think will be particularly inter.
eating to some of our madam. We would pre
mise that Florence—the abuse of her father hay:
ing swelled to a point beyond even her meek en
durance—has left the house f , and sought a
refuge at the "Wooden Midshipman," now kept by
Captain Cuttle. Walter has come back from
sea, and has been tack three or four days when
the following scene cavern:
"Florence had been weak and delicate
of late, and the agitation she had undergone
was not without its influence on her health.
But it was no bodily illness that affected
her now. She was distressed in mind;
and the cause of her distress was Walter.
Interested in her, axious for her, proud
and glad to servo her, and showing all this
with the enthusiasm and ardor of his char
acter, Floreuce saw that , ho avoided her.
All the long day through he seldom ap
proached her room. If she tusked for him,
he came again for the moment 'as earnest
and as bright as she remembered him
when she was a lost child in the staring
streets, but he soon became constrained—
her quick affection was too watchful not
to know it—and uneasy, and soon left her.
Unsought he never came, all day, between
the morning and the night. When the
evening closed in, he was always there,
and that was her happiest time, for then
she half believed that the old Walter of her
childhood was not changed. But even
then, some trivial word, look or circum
stance would ahnw her that there was an
indefinable division betwen !bent which
could not be passed. - •
And she could not but see that these,re-
Voillings of a great alteration in 'Walter
manifested themselves in despite of his ut
most efforts to hide them. in his oonsid
eration for her, she thought, sod in the
earnestness of hie desire to spate her any
wound from _hie PO hand, he resorted, to
innumerable 'Bide artifices and. 4 .141 pl
is.
So muolt the more did ,Floreuee the
giiiinas of this sherution in him, so much
the oftener did She Weep at the eitrsnge
:Tient of her brether. '
The good Captain—her untiring, tender,
overazealcius friOnd—saw it too, Florence
thought, and'it pained him. He' Was leek
cheerful and hopeful than he had been ai
Bret, and would steal looks at her and
Walter by turns, when., , then were all
three together of an elening, with quite a
sad face.
Florence resolved, at last, to speak to
Walter. She believed she knew now what
the cause of his estrangement was, and
she thought it would-be a relief to her full
heart, and set Nay more at ease, if she
told him she had found it out, and quite
submitted to it, anti did not reproach him.
It was on a certain Sunday afternoon
that Florence took this resolution. The
faithful Captain, in an amazing shirt collar,
GETTABBIIIOI, PA.' FiIIDAY EVENING, MAIV,II 31, 1848:
was sitti%by her. reading with his spec
tacles on, and she asked where Walter
"I think he's down below, my lad_ y lass,"
returned the Captain.
should like to speak to him," said
Florence, rising hurriedly as if to go down
stairs.
"I•ll rouse him up here, beauty," said
the Captain, "in a trice."
Thereupon the Captain, with much a
lacrity, shouldered his book—for he made
it a point of duty to read none but very
large books on a Sunday, as having a more
staid appearace ; and had bargained years
ago. for a prodigious volume at a book-stall,
five lines of which utterly confunded him
at any time, inibibuch that he had not as -
certained en - Whiir itibjett it treatetP-Aind
withdrew. Walter soon appeared.
"Capt. Cuttle tells me, Miss Dombey,"
he eagerly began on coming in—but stop
ped when he saw her face.
"You are not so well to-day. You look
distressed. You have been weeping."
He spoke so kindly, and with such a
fervent tremor in his voice, that the tears
gushed into her eyes at the sound of his
words.
"Walter," said Florence, gently, "I am
not quite well, and I have been weeping.
I want to speak to you."
He sat down opposite to her, looking at
her beautiful ar , l innocent face ; and his
own turned pale, and his lips trembled.
"Yon said, upon the night when I knew
that you were saved—and oh ! dear Wal;
ter, what I felt that night, and what I
hoped !"
Ile put his trembling hand upon the ta
ble between them, and eat looking at her.
—"that I was changed. I wassurprised
to hear you say so, but I understand, now,
that I am. Don't be angry with me, Wal
ter. I was too much overjoyed to think
of it, then."
She seemed a child to him again. It
was the ingenuous, confiding, loving child
he saw and heard. Not the dear woman,
at whose feet he would have laid the rich
es of tho earth.
"You remember the last time I saw
you, Walter, before you went away ?"
He put his hand into his breast, and
took out a little purse.
"I have always wan it around my neck!
If I had gone down in the deep, it would
have been with me at the bottom of the
sea."
..And you will wear it still, Walter, for
my old sake ?"
"Until I die !"
She laid her hand on his, as fearlessly and
simply, as if not a day had intervend since
she gave hiin the little token of remem
brance.
"I am glad of that. I shall he always
glad to think so, Walter. Do you recol
lect that a thought of this change seemed
to come into our minds at the same time
that evening, when we were talking to
gether r
"No !" he answered in a wondering tone.
"Yes, Walter. I had been the means
of injuring your hopes and prospects even
then. I feared to think so, then, but I know
it now. If you were able, then, in your
generosity, to hide from me that you knew
it too, you cannot do so now, although you
try as generously before. You do. I
thank you for it, Walter, deeply, truly;
but you cannot succeed. You have suf.
fered too much in your own hardships,
and those of your •dearest relation, quite
to overlook the innocent cause of all the
peril and affliction that has befallen you.
You cannot quite forget me in that char
acter, and we can be' brother and sister no
longer. But, dear Walter, do not think
that I complain of you in this. I might
have known it—onght to have known a—
but forgot it in my joy. All I hope is, that
you will think of me less irksomely when
this feeling is no more a secret one; and
all I ask is, Walter, in the name of the poor
child who was your sister once, that you
will not struggle with yourself, and pain
yourself, for my sake, now that I know
Walter had looked upon her while she
said this with a face so full of wonder and
amazement, that it had room for nothing
else.• Now he caught up the hand that
touched his. so entreatingly, and held it
between his own.
"Oh, Miss Dombey," he said, "is it
possible that while I have been suffering
so much in striving with my sense of what
is due to you, and must be rendered to you,
I have made you suffer what your words
disclose to me. Never, never, before
Heaven, have I thought of you but as the
single, bright, pure, blessed recollection of
my boyhood and my youth. Never have
I from the first, and never shall I to the
last., re(ard your part in my life, but as
something sacred, never to be lightly
thought of. never to be esteemed enough,
never, until death, to be forgotten. Again
to see you look and hear you speak, as you
did on that night when we parted, is hap.
pinata to me that there are no words to
utter; and to be loved and trusted as your
brother, is the next great gift I could.4*
cei l ve andprize 1" .
"Walter," said Florence,looking at him
earnestly, but with a changing face, "what
is that which ia due to me, and must be
rendered to me, at the sacrifice of all this I"
"Respect," said Walter in a low tone,
"Reverence."
The dolor dawned in Iter face, an she
timidly and thoughtfully withdrew her
hand ; still lopking as htm with unabated
°immunise. , • •
,'I hare not a brother's right," said Wal
ter. 'have neLl_brotheria claim. I
left a child. I titiMlrritaan."
The color overipread' her face. ENre
made a gesture so if intreating diet he
would ssy no mote, and her face dropped
upon her hands. ,"
They were both silent fora time; she
weeping.
"I owe it to a heart so trusting, Pure
and good," said Walter, "even to tear my
self from it, though I rend my own. How
dare I say it is my sister's.'
See was weeping still.
"If you had been happy ; surrounded as
you should be by loving and admiring
friends, and all that makes the station you.
were born to enviable," said Walter, "and
"FEARLESS 'AND FREE:"
if you had called me b ther, then, in your
affectionate rememb*o of t he
past, I
could have answered to the name from my
distant place, with adt•inward assurance
that I wronged your spllees truth by doing
so. Via here— r and new r
,
"Oh, thank you, twins. you, Walter !
Forgive my having wronged you so much.,
I had no one to advise me. I am quite
alone."
.
"Florence !" said waiter, passionately,
"I am hurried on to say. what I thought,
but a few moments ago, nothing could have
forced from my lips. If I had, been pros
perous—if I had any means or hope of be
ing one day able torestore you to a station
near your own—l would have told you that
there was one name yon might bestow-up
mrtnefr—ia vight abovelllothersetopreteet- ,
and cherish you—dnit li was worthy of in
nothing but the love and honor that I bore
you, and in my whole heart being yours.
I would have told you that it was the only
claim that you could give me to defend and
guard you, whioh I . dare accept and dare
assert—but that if I had that right, I would
regard it as a trust so precious and so price
less, that the undivided truth and fervor of
my life would poorly acknowledge its
worth."
The head was still bent down, the tears
still falling and the bosom swelling with its
sobs.
"Dear Florence! Dearest Florence I
whom I called so in 'my thoughts, before I
could consider how presumptuous and
wild it was. One last time let me call you
by your own dear name, and touch this
gentle hand in token of your sisterly for
getfulness of what I have said."
She raised her head; and spoke to him
with such a solemn sweetness in her eyes;
with such a low, soft tremble in her frame
and voice that• the innermost chords of his
heart were ruched, and his sight was dim
as he listened.
"No. Walter, I cannot forget it. I
would not forget it for the world. Are you
—are you very poor T".
"I am but a wanderer," said Walk ,
"malcing,voyages to live, across the sea.
That is my calling now."
..Are you soon ping away again, Wal
ter."'
"Very soon."
She eat looking at him fora moment—
then timidly putting het trembling hand in
his—
"If you will take me for your wife, Wal
ter, I will love you dearly. If yuu will
let me go with yoti, Walter, I will go to the
world's end without, fear. I can give up
nothing for you—l have nothing to resign,
and no one to forsake; but all my love
and life shall be devoted to you, and with
my last breath I will breathe your name
to God if I have sense and memory left."
Ile caught her to his heart and laid her,
cheek against his own and now, no more
repulsed, no more forlorn, she wept indeed,
upon the breast of her dear lover.
Blessed Sunday Bells, ringing so tran
quilly in their entranced and happy ears !
Blessed Sunday peace and quiet, harmon
izing with the calmness of their souls, and
making holy air around them ! Blessed
twilight stealing on, and shading her so
soothingly and gravely, as she falls asleep,
like a hushed child, upon the bosom she
ha, clang to !
Ohl load of love and truthfulness that
lies so lightly there ! Aye, look down up
on the closed eyes, Walter, with a proudly
tender gaze ; forin all the wide world they
seek hut thee now—onlyttlee
Do AS YOU aciaer-- T -There is no neces
sity of breaking your word. In the first
place, never promise anything unless you
know it to be in your power to fulfil; and
ih the seccond place, make up ybUr mind
before you promise, that whatever you do
promise you will fulfil. By so doing, you
will gain and enjoy the confidence of those
around you. When such a chancier is
established, it will be of more value than
ermine, gold or princely diadems.
A WORD.—Say not what you had bet-
ter leave unsaid. A word is a little thing
we know, but it has often occasioned bitter
strife. Suppressing the truth has ruined
many a character—many a soul. A word
unuttered, and Hamilton would hive lived
the pride of his country. Who can tell
the good and bad effects of a single word
Be careful what you say. . Think before
you speak, and you will never be mortified
with yonraelf, or cause a thrill of pain to
flash through the heart of a friend.
AIMICRICANS TORTURED.We find; in a
letter from an officer of the U. S. steamer
Spitfire, a statement of a horrible affair
which took place at Telescope, Mexico, a
few days previous to the 20th of February.
Five Americans, captured near Vera Cruz,
were taken to Telescope, tied to stakes in
full view of each other,and then Metongues,
eyes, nose, eat's, and hands , of one were&
Aberaldy cut oat! After the first one died
another was treated in the same vfrap, and
so on. If this does notcall for retributive
justice, what Will 1
EQUANIMITY OF TEMPZE.
Ile who'strives i'tq a long *ad ploasint term of
life,*ust agiek to u,latain eTtinual egtuaintity,
catefidly to avoid every thing which , mo via
is ti, talcs his ihttattlfs. NOhhtlf morn. OCktY
amenmes the vigor of INC than the violence of the
emotions of the mind. We know that, anxiety
Mai care can destroy the healthiest body. We
hncd! that fright end km; Yea , even azteat of joy,
krona" ilitadly. They who are naturally cool and
of totot tiwa ot:othot upon rimpo oohing out
n►ako too Potootiolt 'an holtroothlN whit are not
WIXOM hie excited, either by gmat inerrow or great
joyr have the beet chance of living long and happi•
tdsr their manner. Prelate. unties all air
cumeteemes, a composure of mind which no happi
ness, no misfortune, can too much dieturb. Love
nothing too violently, hate nolldnitoo passionate
ly, fair nothing too strongly.. For still, eventual
ly, everything which befalls thee, the good as well
as the bad, deserves neither imrhoderate love nor
immoderate hatred ; and already, on many oces
&ions, hart thou perceived, though truly often too
late, that thou halt placed too high a value on
those things which passionately charmed or pained
thee.—[M tray Leaves from the Getman
TIM 130YgREION8 or:EI7IIOPE'
k?" The anneted description of the cheraiter.
end hag& of the present thronciolders in,
rope, is by Rev. Dr. Birao,,llto recently Minn!
ed front an lateral** torn in Europe,And is,at
present delivering a course of lectures in N. .York
on the political, twist, and religions condition of
theZuropenn Mates. The events that have done
occurred in Fnuce, will invest the description pith
peculiar interest, especially the portion Mating to
Louie Phillippe
There are in gurope, twenty-two king
doms, thirty!two duchies, which are real
ly u much kingdoms as the billets, four
principalities,
and. eight republics, 'nein
d ing the four free cities of Ger
many,- There are; therefbre; sixty-alk
ettetistintents-in Earope..--Two rake affti,
there were sixty-eight, but since that time
the republic of Cracow, and the duefirof
Luce*, have ceased to exist. The number
of governments, though still large, is much
smaller than it was at the commencement
of the present century, as the tendency to
consolidation among the smaller govern;
menu is very great. In Germany alone,
at one period, there were three hundred
and sixty distinct governments. There
are only twenty kingdoms, twentY=nine
duchies, and five republics, which are in
independent governments: The others
are dependent upon some of these.
Fifteen kingdoms, twenty-three duchies.
and eight republics, have constitutional gov
ernments --in ill, forty-she tort - 914moms
which have constitutions. At the epoch
of the American Revolution, there were
only seven republics, and two monarchies
which had constitutions. The King of
Prussia, the King of Denmark, and the
Pope, will probably soon grant constitu
tions to the people.
There are twenty sovereigns, three of ,
them queens, viz: the Queens of Eng
land, Spain and Portugal. The male cove
reigns are all married, except the Pope.
As to their religion, ten are Roman Oath°.
tics, eight Protestants, one belongs to the
the , Greek—Church, and one is a Moham
medan.
In point of intellect, Louis Phillippe
stands first among the sovereigns of Eu
rope_he is above - seventy years of age,
but possesses vigorous health—he is a man
of fine personal appearance, though evi
dently growing old.
Louis Phillippe is the most learned
monarch in Europe. He has had extraor
dinary advantages for acquiring informs
lion, and he has diligently improved them.
He possesses much shrewdness, a deeply
intriguing disposition, extraordinary con
versational powers,- and-an-- inexhaustible
fund of wit and humor.
No one of hie ministers is equal to him
in talent. He bends them all to his put..
pose. Lafayette, and other distinguished
men who were instrumental in plactoghim
upon the throne of France, were not aware
of his character or disposition. They did
not know the man, but since he has devel
oped his character, they have bitterly re.
gretted the step they took.
His family are well educated. None of
his sons possess their father's 'talents...
The Duke of Orleans, who was killed ac
cidentally some year ago, was, the ablest
of them. His widow is, perhaps, the most
accomplished woman in France. She is
a Protestant, and is sincerely pious. 'Her
son is the 'heir , apparent to the French
throne.
The Duke de Nemours, the second son
of Louis Phillipe, is to be regent. in the e
vent of the death of the king before the
young Duke of Orleant attains his majori
ty. Ile is haughty, imperious and unpop
ular in his manners, and would, probably,
if he became regent, involve himself and
the kingdom in difficulty.
The Prince de Joinville is quite well
known in this country. He is more pop
ular in his manners, but possesses little MP
ent, except in nautical matters.
The Duke d'Aumale is Viceroy of Al
geria. Re is-quite young.
In private life, Louis Phillipps is very
eiemplary, one of 'behest of,husbantbi and
fathers.
The King of Prussia is next to Louis
Phillippe in intellectual ability. He is a
bout fifty-four years of age, a fine-looking
man, very near sighted, of very- ruddy
complexion, and full habit It has been
said that he was intemperate; but this ,is
untrue. He is a self-made man, having
never had the advantages of instruction at
the universities, but he has endeavored to
supply the deficiency. by every available
means. The Baron Humboldt, ens of the
most accomplished sobolatein Europe, is
employed by him to communicate informs..
tion to him on, all sorts of subjecehduring
several hours every day. ,
The King of Prussia is not exactly pop
uler with the people. He is thoroughly'
evangelic in hie religious views, and ar
dently desirous for the spread of religion
everywhere. Heels a man of unbounded
wit and sarcasm, and has naturally a south
.what violent temper, but governs it better
.now than formerly. Bethel , he came to
the throne, his wife, to whom he is ten
derly attach*l, frequently beithught him to-
control the vtohsnceof his' temper, and he
always replied that he .would do better
when the became , . Boon. alley he ,
came to the throne,: Calmat siren years
ago,) the queen one day,averheirdium in
the- adjacent toodr,.thOrictient altescatkut
with one of his ministers.::She>itjenedi;
ately went into the room, acith-piasing by
the kilg began to .search, diligestly for
some object. The thing imisediittely left
'the -minister end came to her side,. •
"mrY 41w Elise," seiChe l ofarwhat
are_ you lookiortl'
“I wee searching For &chine' wee her
reply. •
The king felt the reproof, and accompan
ying her to the door, *laid; "The next time
you come into the room, my , dear, you
shall find him."
The next monarch in Europe. in intelli
gence and talent, is the Emperor of Rus.
sin. He is fifty-two years of age, about
six feet two inches in height, and one of
the finest looking men in the world.
Though somewhat stout, weighing from
two hundred,and twenty to two hundred
and forty pounds, he is so perfectly formed
as not to be at all unwieldy. There is
=ISM
That' ih ii. eir, 'under whatever circum
stantial you may see him, which bespeaks
hitt a than borne to command. His calm
tenance and disposition are naturally pleas-
tint, though, from the multiplicity and
wei g ht of his cares, his temper is less a
greeable.than formerly.
The present form of government in Rus
sia is evidently the one best adapted to the
peculiar character and condition of the
people, but if Nicholas is spared a few
years longer, and succeeded by a man of
eqtral or superior ability, the people may
become fitted, in the course of fifty or one
hundietlyears, fur a constitutional govern
ment: In his domestic relations, the Ern
poor of Russia is extremely happy. His
children are amiable and well educated ;
hir .wile-ito a very lovely woman ; and he
hithself is one of the kindest husbands and
fathers in the world.
In regard to the other monarchs of En
rope, it us not necessary to say much.
The, preient King of Sweden, Oscar, came
to the throne about five years ago. Ile
is well educated, and is one of the best
kings in Europe. The King of Holland
is a man of considerable talent,.hut a very
unpopular and very wicked man. The
King of Hetimark. ald the King of Bel
,gium, are both, Able men, hut lack decis
ton of charact e r., -, The. King of Sardinia
was formerly very unpopular. In the
language of one-of his subjects, he was
regarded to not fit ~t o cook- broth for the
devil." He is now, however, adopting a
wise policy, and hia popularity is on the
increase..'The Pope is a man aline tal
ents; the best Pope Rome halo had for many
a day.' tie is epligittened and liberal in
his views, and though strongly attached to
the Boman catholic hi* yet desires that
Italy should take a higher stand among the
ebuntrles of E grope
The. King of Saxony is a very amiable
man. 'rho 4ullau of Tuilopy a m an of
fine abilities.
The Queen of Spam is ;a young and in
totaling woman. She2poesesses coned&
erable The Queen of Portugal is
remarkable only for her size-:--being very
large. The Queen of England is a very
proud woman. She does not possess
great talents, tiiit is smart—and every year
is becoming a bettetyqueen. In private
ehiracter, the four worst monarchs in Eu
ropa aro, the King of ,Thinover, the King
of Holland, the' King of. Bavaria, and the
King of Naplea. These_Kings are noto
riously vicious. The others are general
ly moral, many of them exemplary in pri
vate life.
,
DREig Ole THS 1 4 021 4 4 ( 311 , 0,— "Th1a is
generally r ich,, but very • platn, except on
state occasions . , It is usually, more or
loss military . Qn; Mate, oceaatons, they
it
generally wear the nniforM, of a ' limy
uthaii Of itte . l4lie*,ratili, and th ilges
of the di ff erent orders' With which ley are
connected. The ladies are generally very
well dressed ; bit on ordinary occasions,
wear but few jewels, The monarchs of
Europe never wear . crowas, except at their
coronation, and never bear a sceptre, ex
cept on that occasion.
.4lOme of them, in
deed. 'are never crowned. There are three
kinds'of 'Presettleitions 2 l ot. Public— , 49
at a levee, when ,intreduced in company
I with many others; by the ambassador of
I your own nation. The etiquette:, on these
occasions, differs in.different countries. In
I England, you m ust not wear gloves, you
!must approach the queen in your turn, and
!retire dater aariag - a' tow w e ft's. On the
continent, You . wear gloves, and the mon
arch passes around to each in-turn. It is
not the custom to shake , hoods on these oc
caeions. '24. Private presentation,. This
is also by your ambassador, but not a le
ree. The monarch meets you, both stand,
he takes' the lead in conversation, speaks of
such topics as he pleases, and terminates
the interview at his own pleasure. 3d. As
a savant or literary man. , These inter
views are still more privete—no ambassa
dor being present, and frequently the mon
arelle_conmee very freely. and Without
restraint.
ROYAL, utionits.---These are not more
splendid than those of private individuals
of wealth and 144014tintv• Usually, twen
ty or thirty are present ; the
conversation is very plemint usually, and
moldy on of general or scientific
interest." The Freneh style of cooking
prevails. The custom of drinking healths
does not &eta and no one finds any dif
ficulty in mahlutiniftg temperance princi
ples. There is .09 diffitulty in maintain
ingcouyetaittitmon these occasions„becatiae
the mionai•ch, and those who frequent his
table, are ao well bred as to make the situ
ation of every icill'asikeeable. The boctor
had found it ninch easier to converse free
ly With distirighistied men of Europe, than
with many' woad-be-great men in this
country. -,
A Pitztqpii,ort DANTOII.--4. singu
lar t old the Pue de Chartres,
now 'the' King of the Preach, which can
hardlyi hisie been published without the
vrirrant of that high personage. Some busi
nesS called : him from Dumottriez's army to
,Paris soon after the massacres of Septem
ber. Dutton sent for him, and informed
hint' that he had heard that he ventured to
speak too freely on that subject. He told
him he WIN too young to judge of such
matters, and added ;—.For the future, be
silent. • Return to the army; do your du
ty,./ but do not unnecessarily expose your
life. You have, many years before you.
France is not suited for a republic ; it has
the habits, the wants, and the weakness of
a monarchy. After our storms it will be
.brought back to that by its vices or its ne
cessities. You will be king ! Adieu,
young man. Remember the.pretliction of
Danton."---Lowirtine's History of the
Girondins.
At a late Printer's Festival in Washing
ton the following. tOlfAt Ny as given :
IV OM . —The fairest work ofereetion:
being that the edition is so extensive, let
no one be without a copy.
'Tis as disagreeable to a prodigal to keep
an account of his expenses, as it is for a
sinner to examine his conscience; the deep
er lie searches, the worse he finds himelf.
TWO DOI,LARS PElt
INEW SEIES--NO. 45.
• From the Colonisation kiers)d..
IRON FOR DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE
Mr. Editor:—The value of your excel
lent paper is greatly enhanced by its °col
umns being enriched with occasional essays
on topics of general interest, while chiefly
engaged injudiciously advocating the claims
of injured humanity. Thus you not entre
quently attract attention to the peculiar:Ml
vantages enjoyed by the salubrious and pic
turesque regions of Virginia and Tennes
see for wool growing. Permit me then
to suggest to your readers, among whom I
learn there are many Iron Masters, the re
lief that might now be afforded to that suf
fering branch of home industry, ifso admi
rable a material as laoN, was extensively
introduced into domestic architecture.
Hitherto, its high price has preventedite
being generally used in building. But when
we learn that the iron which commanded
$4O per ton a few months since, is now
without buyers at $24, we can conceive do
!good reason why our builders should send
Ito distant States for granite, or order the
brown "gingerbrepAratone at much higher
cost, which presents in one striking case,
the epectacle of a broken architrave threat
ening to fall on the heads of those who may
enter its door, even before the noble edi
fice
has received its roof? We observe
that our ever watchful fellow-citizen, Ger.
and Ralston, affords some instructive sta
tistics as to the immense consumption of
iron in England, in the construction of how
sea, stores, churches, bridges, 4-c. at home,
and for export for similar purposes in In
dia, Africa and the West Indies. • Our I
ron Masters have added vastly to the pros
perity of our common country, enriching
the farmer and the operative by the inval
uable home market they have provided for
food and labour. We regret to learn that
the low price of Iron abroad has already
closed many of these greatest auxiliaries of
national prosperity ; and while orders for
$5,000,000 of foreign railroad iron have
been recently sent out, many more must
close their doors, unless new sources of
qmployment be found for this chief stable
of. Pennsylvania.
Happily, its peculiar value for building
purposes has been well ascertained ; fur
While granite and stone are highly danger.-
ous in case offire, and requireheavy outlays
for sculpture, if ornamented; the most
chaste and delicate designs may be repro
duced in iron a thousand times, at the
mere first cost of moulds; and after being
used for half a century, the value of the
material remains, to say nothing of its be
ing fire-proof in the highest degree.
We hear much of vast structures in sis
ter cities for 'Washington monuments—one
of them at least of hideous form. Why
not avail ourselves of the present low
price of Iron to construct the one contem
plated in our own beautiful Washington
Square, and founded by Lafayette, in
1824 ?" The dimensions of that Square
forbid a broad base, and the monument of
Sir Walter Scott, at Edinburg, fortunately
presents us with one of the most beautiful
models in the world for ours ; especially
if its delicate and exquisite tracery be re-•
produced in iron, which can be done at
one-fifth the cost of sculpture—casts' for
other editicea being thus secured at the
mere expense of founding. When'-we "
-may thus promote the welfare of thousands
of suffering fellow-citizens—develops the
vast minera resources of Pennsylvania,
and consequently diminish the great drain
upon our currency in payment of foreign
products similar to our own—add to the
security of life and property, and part poe
m beautify our public and private edifices,
1 kuow of uo subject better calculated for
the columns of your invaluable journal, and
to entitle you to the gratitude of the com
munity at large. E. Co
TELEGRAPH IN SOUTH AMERICA.AIII
electric magnetic telegraph apparatus had
arrived at Lima, Peru, and the account of
it, and the various details of this great
vention, are copied into the Mercurio from
the Peruvian papers. It is proposed to
erect a telegraph line between Lima and
lao. and the Mercurio recommends the
Chitin) Government to establish lines be.
twen the principal cities. It is Morsei
.legraph which is now in Peru. and the
account of it gives him full credit for the
inrention.
To CUT GLASB WITH A PIECE or Noe.
—Draw, with a pencil on paper, any pat•
tern to which you would have the glass
conlinin, place the patiern under the glass.
holding both together in the left hand, (foe
the glass must not rest on any plane sure
face ;) then take a common spike or some
similar piece of iron, heat the point of it
to redness, and apply it the edge of the
glass, it will immediately crack ; continue
moving the iron slowly over the glass.
tracing the pattern, and the chink in the
glass will follow at the distance of half an
inch, in every direction according to the
motion of the iron. It may sometimes be
found requisite, however, especially in
forming corners, to apply a wet finger to
the opposite side of the glass. Tumblers
and other glasses may be cut or divided
very fancifully by similar means. The
iron must be reheated as often as the area.
ice in the glass ceases to follow.
A Suits..—Who can tell the value of a
smile' It costs the giver nothing, but is
beyond price to the erring and the sad and
cheerless, the lost and forsaken. It die
arms maliCe—subdues temper—turns hr
iced to love, revenge to kindness. and pains
the darkest path with gern,,of s 1 fit
A smile betrays a kind 'heart, a iireasant
friend, an affectionate brother, a dutiful .
son, a happy husband. It adds a charm
to beauty. decorates the face of the deform
ed, and make). lovely woman resemble an
angel ofpnradiso.
. An holiest man need not feel the assattits
of his enemies, 'l'elent will be appreeiwt
Jed, industry will he rewarded, andb• whb<
pursues, in any calling, en open, mardy.
honest coarse, must in the end ttiar
over hit enemies, end build frit inewhOis
good name, which will asdanirlot
his traducers are forgotten. '`
The het eaeouele Cruse , 401 t 411100
Etna and Vesuvius were vosoldni
times, and an eruption was daily expected..