BY D. A. & C. H. BUEHLER. VOLUME XXIII. The Shepherdess. Sat we on the mossy rocks In the twilight long ago, I and Ulna, keeping flocks— Flocks with fleeces white as snow Beauty smiled along the sky ; • Bean ty shone along the sea ; "Ulna, Ulna," whispered I, "This is all for you and me !" Brushing back my heavy locks, &aid be, not also ! in glee, "Art content in keeping flocks With a shepherd boy like me ?" Shone the moon so softly white Down upon the mossy rocks, Covering sweetly with her light Me and Ulna, and our flocks. Running wild about our feet Were the blushing summer flowers— " Ulna," said I, "what is sweet In this world, that is not ours l" Thrice he kissed my cheek and sighed, "Thaw are dreary rocks and cold— Oh, the workl is very ',hie, And I weary of my Fuld !" Now A thousand oxen easy That are Ulna's down the moor ; And great ships their anchors weigh, Freighted with his priceless ore. But my tears will sometimes flow, Thinking of the mossy rocks Where we at so long Rao, land Ulna, keeping flocks. The Child le Dead. 11lairect from the .Thoughts of Little Children,' by Rev. 8. I. Prime. It is hard to believe it : that we shall no more hear the glad voice, nor meet :he merry laugh that burst so often front its glad heart.• Child as it was, it was a pleasant child, and to the partial parent there aro traits of loveliness that no other eye may see. It was a wise ordering of Prey idenee that we should love our own children as Boone else loves them, and as vt e love the children of none besides. And ours was a lovely child. But the child ie dead. You may put away its thew where they will be sate. I would not like to Lave them broken or lost ; and you need not loud them to other eliiidren wien they conic to tie...! us. It would pain toe aO t•et• them in other hands, inuell as I love to see children happy with their Its clothes you may lay aside ; I shall of- ten look them ovcr, and each of the colors that he wore will remind nue of hint as he looked when he was hero. I 6ball "weep often when I think of him ; but there is a luxury in thinking of the o ne that is gone, which I would not part with for the world I think of my child now, a child always, though an angel among angels. The child is dead. The eye has lost its lustre. The hand is still and cold.— Ds little heart is not beating now. llow pale it looks : Vet the very form is dear to me. Every lock of its hair, every fea two of the face, is a treasure that I shall prize the more, as the mouths of my sor row come and go. Lay the little one in his coffin. He was never in so cold and hard bed, but he will feel it not, lie would nut know of it, if he had been laid in his cradle, or in his mother's arms. Throw a flower or two by his side; like them he withered. Carry him out to the grave. Gently. It is a hard road this to the grave. Every jar seems to disturb the infant sleeper.— llere we are, at the brink of the sepulchre. Oh, bow damp, and dark, and cold ! But the dead do not feel it. There is uo pain, no fear, uo weeping there. sleep ou now, and take your rest ! Pill it up ! Ashes to ashes, dust to dust ! Every clod seems to fall on my heart. Every smothered sound from the grave is saying, gone, gone, gone ! It is full now. Lay the turf gently over the dear child. Plant a myrtle among the soda, and lot the little one sleep among the trees and flowers. Our child is not there. His duet, precious dust, indeed, is there, but our child is in Heaven. He is not here ; ho is risen I shall think of the form that is moulder ing here among the dead ; and it will he a mournful comfort at times, and to think of the child that was once the light of our house, and the idol—ah ! that I must own the secret of this sorrow—the idol of my heart. And it is beyond all language to express the joy, in the midst of tears, I feel, that my sin, in making an idol of the child, has not made that infant less dear to Jesus.— Nay, there is even something that tells Me the Saviour called the darling from me, that I might lose the saviour more when I bad one child loss to love. Ile, knoweth our, frame; he knows the wa y ' to win and hind us. Dear saviour, as thouhast my le.dsb, give , wie too a place in thy bosom.— Set' tno a seal on thy heart. , • And now let -- , us go,back to the house. It is strangely changed. It is.sileut and cheerless,, gloomy even. When did I enter i this,doex : without the greeting of thosolips and eyvi r thala shall greet no more Y Can :the abeam° ofLme produce so greet a kehtingelei soon ? When one of the whit 'dien.Wits aWay wAsit, wfe did dot fool the abseil:* as we do now. That was for a time t• this is forever. .Ho will nob return. I. thought fora moment it was the eh If t , t i io,ll,, w e e o n ly my, own heart ,yettrn ing for the lost. lie will not oome a- There is no difficulty to him who wills., The Pastor's Mission. It is a sweet ministration, that of giving comforting hopes to the child ot sorrow, and pouring balm upon the wounds that earth can never heal; it is a holy office to stand in the presence of immortals, and por tray the glories of the future world, to un fold lofty visions before the repentant transgressor, who fain would lift the veil of sin from before his inner tabernacle, and gstb upon the revealed beauty of a risen Redeemer. Little the pastor realizes the extent of the blessings which God per mits him to scatter on all who move in his path. Eternity will unfold them, and then he will smile as he murmurs, "how often did it seem to me a hopeless task to convince the stubborn heart, and subdue the strong will; could I have known all this—" And the angel may whisper in Ones softer than those of his heart—•there would not then have been so much joy for thee in heaven." The pastor's mission is a laborious one, and fraught with more real joy than any other that could be delegated to mail. He may enter his pulpit with a down cast eye, throbbing temple and weary spi rit; he may feel as he opens the lids of the great book, as if God had withdrawn His presence from him, because poor humani ty faints by the way, and the cares of earth have left some shadows on his soul ; per chance an unkind word from a brother yet lingers in his ear, or the listless faces that meet his glance, tempt hope and faith to sink down nerveless beside the altar of prn ver. He does not know how eagerly some humble wayfarer waits till die holy words shall fall upon his ear. He -crimot raise the mask from all the careless seeming a round him ; he beholds not, in those so outwardly clothed in smiles deep and ab ject selleirondemnation i that his appeals may quicken into more active lite; he cannot see the unbroken grief, that, like children bereft of speech, telling their sor rows to their own hearts and heaven, bear all things uncomplaininglY, yet love the soothing of a tender spirit. In the dark hour the pastor's prayer is lie last sweet sound that lingers on dying ears; he prepares the doubting mind t•e meet its G.,a in peace. breaks the breath of the covenant and hears it to khg, quivering pquoting the while rhsli promises from the mine noperisbahre treasures. The greatest, the wisest, the hest, long, in that time when the last enemy triumphs, to hash the warm clasp of the pasteer's lie it was who taught them the way to Leaven ; and shall lie not go with thr•rn to the threshold ofeternity and mark its dawn• ing splendor already reflected upon their dying brows ? What faithful minister, in view of these sweet °Hives, will not li•el refreshed and strengthened when lie knows that the lit tle rill of pure love:poured into the fitintilig bosom of the way ward oue, may swell to a mighty river, hearing upon its tide thou sands of semis, who shall in eternity point to him as their crown of rejoicing I How can joy but say—if my cares are burden some, may she outweigh them all. A Chili °e Sympathy. A child's eves ! those clear wells of un defiled thought—what on earth can be more beautiful! Full of hope, love, and curios ' ity, they meet your own. In prayer, how earnest ; in joy, how sparkling; in sym pathy, how tender! Thu man who never tried the companionship Of a little child has carelessly passed by one of the greatest pleasures of life, as one passes a rare flow er, without plucking it, or knowing its value. A child cannot understand you, you think ; speak to it of the holy things of your religion, of your grief for th 3 loss of a friend, of your love for some one you fear will not love in return; it will take, it is true, no measure or soundings of your thought; it will not judge how much you should believe, whether your grief is ration al in proportion to your loss, worthy or fit to attract the love you seek; but its whole soul will incline itself to yours, and engraft itself, as it were, on the feeling which is your feeling fur the hour.—Hon: Mrs. Norton. The history of words is the history of trade and commerce. Your very apparel is a dictionary. "The 'bayonet' tells us that it was first made at Ilayoune—‘cambrics' that they came from Cambray—'damask' from 'Da masens—'arras' from the city of the same name--'cordwain' or leordova' from Cor dova—'currants' from Corinth—the 'gui nea,' that was originally coined of gold brought from the African coast so called— 'cainlet,' that it was woven at least in part of camel's hair. Suoh has been the manu facturing progress of England that we now send our calicoes and =dins to India and the east; yet the words bring standing wit ness that we once imported them thence ; for 'calico' is from Calcat, ditd 'muslin' from Mousul, a city in Asiatic Turkey." CUT A Dino.—lt is told in history that Dido, Queen of Tyro, about eight hundred and seventy years bfore Chtist, fled from that place upon the northern coast of Afri ca, whore she built Carthage. Being in want of land, she bargained with' the na tives for as Much land as sho could sur round with a bull's hide. Having made the agreement, she out a bull's hide into flnestrings, and tying them together, claim ed as much land as she could surround with the long line she had thus made.— The natives allowed the cunning Queen to havit . -hor way ; but When anybody played off a sharp trick, they saidiut had "out a Bide t . ' and the phrase has come down to out 'day., 'l'e graph paqupo.—The 4ersey City says that, a few days 'ago, Mn.o wife ofitiehard Eiliet;'the drummer, 'l4- ing au Newark avenue iR the 4th ward of that eity,,gave birth to her howls third' Child. 'Beth mother and child are doing Wen.: The eige of Mr. Elliot is 010, and that of Mrs. E. 50. They have been married about $0 yin. When Is a lishiml 'cap& like a tomb stone r Whoa sot up fur a UM husband. GETTYO3URG, PA. FRIDAY EVENING, JULY 23, 1852. An Ebony Beauty of Martinique. DESCRIBED BY MR. WILLIS. In one of his recent letters from the West Indies, to the Home Journal, N. P. Willis gives us the following particulars of his acquaintance with a negro beauty "as black as your hat :" I have just been presented to a jet-black young lady, who is in "the best of society" of Fort Royal, (the seat of Government,) and who is said to be more admired, by the French officers stationed there, than any other lady on their visiting list. Of that city of ten thousand inhabitants, Mademoiselle Juliette Celestine, we are assured, is quite the fashionable young lady most attended to. She is an intimate friend of our fair hostess, and it was to this happy chance that we owed the priv ilege of a presentation to her. She was in town for a few days, and had called yesterday ; and, on Madame Stephanie's mentioning, this morning at break fast, that she was to call again to-day we so express ed ourselves as to be sent for on her arri val. Mlle Juliette is of the blood that does not thin with the climate, as do the whites. Sbe is about nineteen, and as plump as Hehe—her original model from nature apparently just perfected. Her skin, though as black a one as 1 ever saw, is fine grained and lustrous, and her shoulders, (there was no denying,) quite beautiful.— The gorgeous-colored Matiras turban cov- ! ered her forehead to the eyebrows, and, with a long sweep of twisted fold over the cheek, concealed the hair—the lace hem of her snowy chemise being the next down ward interuption to the lines of rounded ebony. Her features are strictly African —the lips full, and the nose of that degree of flatness which is only affectionate, and which I take to be the highest expression of this shape in contradistinction to the more repelling aquiline. Her eyes would have been beautiful if there had been anything white it, the neighborhood with which to contrast them—but black eyes on so black a ground were •coals to Newcastle."— ' They had one fine quality, however; they had never.been contracted with a suspicion. or a withdrawal of confidence, or an attempt ua uuderstand anything that did not speak fur itself; and they were, consequently, as tranquility open as the cups of two water ! lilies. ifer snide was of the same never. startled confidu e n n •ss—cooticg and going with the ease of a shadow —aid her teeth were only too Mimi and perfect for any piq uancy of expression. No jeweller could have rut them inure evenly nut Her little fat black hands were daintily la pored, and looked lady-like. She wore' large rings, that, with her gold chains and the enormous gold ear-rings, which ! they ,all cling-clow, made a sort of a bar- ! bade glitter, with her lively gestures and ex-' pressive motions of the head, which seem ed to the very picturesque. I tv,IS pleas ed, by the way, with the consistency with which he adhered to the dress and orna ments exclusively worn by these of her I own color. The cimpclous ear-rings, par ticularly—masses of solid gold, resembling five small kegs welded together by the sides —are seen in every respectable black ear, never ir, a white one. It would have been natural and reasonable fur her, considering her means and social position, to have graced her beauty with some of the French fashions, abundantly within reach and I worn by the Creole ladies with whom she' associates. Mademoiselle Juliette's reception of us I was politely cordial and entirely without embarrassment. It seemed odd to us, at first, to hear the French, which we consid er an accomplishment, come so fluently and elegantly from a mouth of that color, but it heightened the novelty and charm of her impression. After a little talk upon climates, conversation turned upon the u sages of our ladies, and the difference of etiquette in our different countries, and she laughed immoderately of some of the A merican distinctions between propriety and impropriety iii female maonevii:— Love of fun seemed to be her uppermost quality, and her own views and notions, though entirely modest and delicate, were a singular mixture of frankness and droll mockery. I could easily see how the French officers at Fort Royal might find a constant pleasure in her society. Our visit ended with an examination of her monstrous ear-rings, (for which she held her cheek towards us with the simplicity of a child,) and, with an exchange of sou• venire between her and myself--I giving watch guard, and she giving me two berries of the acajou tree, which she carri ed es charms in her pocket. My friend and I agreed that we had made a charm ing call, and that Mademoiselle Juliette Celestine was a memorable additon (of a new color) to our acquaintance. AN APT ILLWITRATION.—Passing the foot of the market one day last week, we overheard a Yankee and an Irishman good naturedly but earnestly discussing the question of the latter's right to vote in this country. "You're an Irishman," said Jonathan. "Had luck to the like of ye, 1 tell ye•l'm an American--as yeraelf." "Wa11,.1 say yew *int. 'Taint no use o' you tryin' to.fool people that way.— Hear your brouge neow.' . "1 tell ye I'M an Ameriken," ineletetPat. "1116 W long have yew been here t" "More nertin year." " WAR yew ataan'tborn here, was yawl" 4. Borlm, is ,iii What the devil has that to do wid it, and how, thin?" •'Tiew duet 'he bora 'in this country, Pat, to be chative American." • • . perhaps the like uir -ye neire; hcar,clpf a ounce. bola' buri' agaig, did ye!" seNsif;that won't doe no how:" 4r.Well, 2henl atiel.:borhit - in • tulltl lire land,,trutrlotye. :Liet•Fm an :tameable, for, all that sure. For, do ye mind, a man mien be bora in a stable—Aut loud that tosAe Mit a horse r The - roar from the bystanders whiah folkwed this molder," rather took our Yankee Mend mu of his boot•, for the mo ment t and be forthwip retired, tteelaring that Pat was Na good 'in, anybeow." "FEARLESS AND FREE." Beautillut Extract Mr. 'Webster is the only survivor of that illustrious trio of statesmen. "Who shook the nations through their lips, and blaz'd, Till vanquished Senates trembled as they prais ed.. One sleeps, this beautiful day, in the sweet shade of the magnolia's blossoms— his great heart is still, and quenched is the light of his glorious eye forever—another and fit companion of the great South Car olinian fell but yestetday, on the field of his lame, and now, cold and dead, is borne on his bier through a weeping nation, hack to the generous soil of pld Kentucky, there to sleep the sleep that knows no waking. The orator, the chiv tie gentleman, and noble friend, is beyod the reach of malice or of praise—never a in will he rouse us with his btigle blasts, .or melt us into ten derness Ity the touching melody of his voice. And he, of the imperial intellect, "With the Athenian's *wing style, and Tully's fire.," 1 wanders, companionleas and alone, by the deep sea he loves so well—gazing, with his great eyes, into 4 'that undiscovered country, from whose borne no traveller re-' myna.' Oh! long may ho live—and may ' the pfres king breeze* fan his brow and bring hack the roses Of health to his fa ding cheeks. , I refer thus to theip great Americans, not to conciliate their friend.s—not as a partizan, no ! no !—letthe bugles of party this day sound a truce—but in obedience to the , • "Emotions that marl, When memory playa an old tulle upon the heart," I could not better illustrate the story °four institulions than by reference to these great men, their noblest offspring. Sam Slick on Ilia Eye. .Squar, the first railroad that was ever made, was made by hatur. It runs straight from the heart in the eye, and goes so al mighty fant it can't be compared to noth ing but Ted lightning. The moment the heart opens its door out jumps an emo tion, whips into the ear, and offs, like widk, to the eye. That's the station house and terminus for the passengers, and every passenger carries a lamp : you can see hint ever so far off. Look to the eye, Squar ; if there ain't no lamp here, no soul loaves the heart that hitch, the re nn train riming. and lice station-house is empty. Simi es can be put on arid off like a wig ; s weer eNpres shins eowe act go, like liOltsi and shade in molar, the hands will sqoueze like a fox trap; the body bends most graveitally. the ear Will he lituit uttrimeti.e, llw ,ffittie.r will 11 inc r. so you're enclinnitOl ; and 1110 longue wilt lie like the devil—but the eye never. ••ISut Spar, there's all sorts of eyes.— There's nn unmeaning eye, and a enhl eye ; a true and false eye ; a sly eve, a kicking eye, a passion to eye, a revengful eye, a manteuvring nye, a joyous eye, and a cad eye, a squintin' eye, sad the evil eye, and morn all, the dear little eye. They must all be suited to the larnt ; but the two important ones to be known are the true and false eye." An American writer, somewhat more distinguished as a philosopher and psy chologist than Mr. Slick. contends that the "practised eye" may often deceive the most acute observer, but that there is seine thing in the play of the lines about the mouth, the shades of emotion developed by the least change in the expression 01 the lips that defies the strictest self-con trol. We leave both theories with the reader. WHAT HAS HS BEEN.—What is that to I , you ? It is of no consequence if he has been one of the most abandoned of men. iHe is not so now. We care not what e vil a man has done provided lie has hearti ly repented and now strives to live an up ; right, consistent life. Instead of looking back a dozen or twenty years to know what a person is, you should inquire, "What it he now ? What is his present character ?" If you find that his reforma tion is sincere, and that he laments his past errors, take him cordially by the hand and bid him God speed in his noble pur suit. We are no friends to those who would rake up past sins and vices to con demn one who is resolved to be upright and virtuous. Many a person is driven back to the paths of vice who might have become an ornament to society, but for the disposition too common amongst met, to rake up and drag to the light, long for gotten iniquities. We always admired the reply of a daughter to a father, who was asked respecting a young man of her cc quaintance,"llo you know where he comes from ?" "No," replied the girl, "I do not know where he comes from, but I know where he is going, and I wish to go with him." That is right. If.we seen person on the right track—exerting a good influ ence; it is sufficient without inquiring what has been his character heretofore. If he has reformed what more can we desire ? And what benefit will it be to us to ulcer er and expose to the light, deeds of, which he has repented in dust and ashes t Plllll%Oll PosTatt.---The Mount Gilead Messenger has a poetic muse, who be comes inflated with Pierce gas, and belches forth lit Irregulse breath, as follows : "Upon hie fiery weed, He dashed maid the fight, And led his gallantlegiene on, And put the foe to Bight!' We think the poetry and historrof the above would bewitch insprayed 1(11 read *uss s • • "Upon hlittery steed. Ifidaehed amid the frglit; Tito horse gat seared, sod ;oor did ha, Aid tad &loud vita:" wit beittg.tald, ,iett, 4 tprquatn tamse was married. Ordeimed. 44 amglad to hear reciwfterantoment, he addii4lo a Immo( compatution and forgive• nekir-iiiid yet . I' don't know why. I should be. ha [toiler did me any karat." It is generally considered that a man has a right as stint a kiss or, an umbirsike whenever he bag a chases I To my Cigar. Yu, social friend, I lose the well, In learned dootor's spite; I love thy fragrant, musty smell, I lose thy calm delight. What if they tell, with phizzes long, Our years are sooner past ! I would reply, with reason strong, The're sweeter while they last. And oft, mild tube, to me thou art A monitor though still Thou speak'st a lesson to my heart, Above the preacher's skill ! When in the lonely evening hour, Attended but by thee, O'er hisery's varied page T pore, Man's fate in thine I see. Awhile, like Owe, the hero burns, And smokes and fumes around; And then, like thee, to ashes turns, And mingles with the ground ! Thou'rt like the man of worth, who gives To goodness every Jay; The fragrance of whose virtue lives When he has passed away. Oft when the snowy column grows, And hreska and bills away, trace how mighty realms thus rose, Thou tumbled to decay ! From beggar's frieze to monareh's robe, One common doom is passed ; Sweet nature's works, the mighty globe, Must still burn out at last. And what Is be that smokes thee now 1 A little moving heap, That soon, like thee, to fate mutt bow, Like thee, in duet must sleep ! And when I see thy smoke roll high, Thy ashosllownward go; 'Tis thus, methinks, my soul shall fly ! Thus leave my hotly low ! The following, from a Maine paper, re minds us of a speech Oaniel O'Contten once made to the fittest .pisan try' in Chris tendom. Said the great agitator : "Boys, havit't I peen a husband to the widows among ye f" "Ye have, Dan, ye have," shouted his auditors. "Horn% I been a protector to yor or phans ?" "Yes. Dan, ye sowl, have !" "And havn't I been a father w yer chil dren ?" "The Devil the deny to' that, anyhow !'' rapturously roared the crowd. "And," shouted one of his swat enthu siastic adititrere, "It would be yer selfan honor if ya wail hut acknowledge yer relationship to the orphans Bur to the relation of the Maine Jour nal A rather good anecdote was related by Mr. Anderson, at the mass meeting in Portland, the other day. ~ ,,a lotis temperance man," he said. "stating the fact that the Widows . Wood Society hail distributed less wood than u sual this winter, although the season had been unusimlly cold. and the Society have had ample funds, attributed it to the fact that since the liquor law has been enfore• ed, the husbands of the widows could not spend their money for ruin !" WI , HAVE HEAHDVF lIIM !-Our Cana dian neighbors take sonic interest in poli ties on this side of the Lake. A captain of a Canadian vessel trading at this port, Mullin:pip!' a gentleman a few days store, with whOth he was doing some business, as to whom the two parties haul nominated lor President. lie was told the "Demo crats" had nominated Pierce. The next question was—Who is he t The gentle men gave him as good an account of young "Circumstances" us circumstances would permit. Well, said our Canadian neigh bor, who have the other party nominated ? General Winfield Scott was the reply.— "Oh !" said he, , 41 7 e have heard of him." —Oswego Daily Ames. Gen. Pierce was not long i n Mexico be fore he ascertained that ho was not calcu lated to shine as a military commander.— After fainting twice on the field of battle, he certainly had good reasons for suppos ing that nature never designed bite to wear epaulettes and a cocked hat. Ile therefore very properly resigned his office and return ed to the pursuits of success. A soldier should be a man who cannot faint either with pain or at bloody smacks. lie should be such a man as Witherington was, of whom the ballad of. Chevy Chaco save : For Witherington needs I roust wail, As one in doleful dumps ; For when his legs were smitten off, He fought upon his stump.. WANTED.-A fifer and drummer to beat time for the march of intellect; a pair of snuffers to trim the "light of other days ;" a stone cutter that can drill a hole deep enough to blast the "rock of ages.;" a ring that will fit the finger of scorn ; a bridle (vibe reins of government ; a loose pulley to run on the shaft of envy; a new cushion for the seat of government. 'Oh what is roman What her smile, Her lips of love, her eyes of light I Whet is she it these lips revile ' The lowly Josusi Love may write Ills name upon her marble brow, And linger in her curls of Jet : The light spring flowers may meekly bow H'efore her treed ; mid yet--and yet, With3ut that meeker grace she'll be A lighter thing then vaulty I' Lady's Bak, A Kentucky paper says jt is.getting to be very fashionable in than quarter to en close n dollar with marriage notices;when sending theni to a e printer. A ern! cus tom, which ought to prevail everywhere. Six dollars, to printer..and. priest, asnaibts man could refills Firadullsts to render biro bleat, And • one to publish tbeasswil 4 CorairriDavat..Wiii solve l:Cour ran* thijoilowing OfiiiaittiOnir • • like , rsaail, from thipliw4Fars-040: . Alhawieitho, lire .014;04„., AAdiblAgb Icor) ; Aqins,Apy,itukee. mplypi,lbtetlsmiy..; . -; Coate, tell my topeommeepy,ll,4e,, A maht4i l .4Alti,,- -Thep add a owe. iinsl 1 -pa, The tidier . of • The Albany DutChniari "expreises its aurprise that young inbit CO canner to loaf about the runi-shops art Nay do. urban a good dose of arsenic can be purchanad for a sipence. Womett.—The' government of families leads to the comfort of communities. and the welfare of the swot. -Of every do mestic circle, woman is the centre. lioMe. that scene of purest , end dearest joy. home is the empire of woman. There she Plane, directs . slid perform*, the acknowledged source of dignity and felicity. Where fe male virtue is most pure, female sense is most approvedr - female deportment most correct, there is most propriety of Amoeba manners. The early years of childhood. the most precious years of life and opening season, are confined to woman's superin tendence; she therefore may be presumed to lay the foundation of all the virtues, and all the wisdom that enrich the A Poste.—A calm, blue-eyed, self.pos ceased young lady, in a village down east, 'received a long call from a prying old spinster, who, after 'prolonging' her visit beyond even her own conception of the young lady's endurance, came to the main question which had brought her hither. "I've been asked a good many times if you wasn't engaged to Dr: Q. Now, if the folks inquire again whether• you are or not, what shall I say that I think r , "Fell them." answered the young holy. fixing her calm, blue eyes in unblushing steadiness upon the inquisitive featureis of her interrogatorostell them you think you don't know, and you are sore it is none of your business I" _ _ _ SOCIAL INTEACOORIII.L— WC should mike it a principle to extend the fiend of Whoa,- ship to every man who discharges faith. "fully his duties, and maintains good ordei —who manifests a deep interest in-the welfare of general moiety—whose depcirt- Ment is upright, and whose mind is intel ligent, without stoppingto ascertain wheth er ho swings a hammer or draws a thread.' There is nothing so diatatit from all oath ral claim, as the reluctant, the hackwarJ sympathy—the forced ituile—the checked conversation—the hesitatinctomptiance, - the Well-off -are too apt to Manifest to those a little down. with whom, in comparison of intellect and principles of virtue, they frequently sink into insignifivance. A Western. New York farmer utritair as follows to a distinguished sMen tine agrMul turalist to %O HM] he felt under obligation fOr introducing a new variety of swine •titespected Sirt—l Wetit yesterday to the fair at M—,;,l found several pigs of your species; there was not a great ,variet ty of beasts; 1 was very much astonished at not seeing you there." _ The CEMPC of ladies' teeth decaying at so much ,wlier a stage id life than tfitisepf the other belt, beetrtltually 'iittribdted' to the friction produced by the constant action of the tongue. It has, however, been suggested with more gallantry, and perhaps with,equal truth, that it is owing to the sweetatioi of their lips, as it is a fact well established by popular belief, that sweet things spoil Om teeth I A yankee down east has invented a ma chine that will reap, thrash, whinnw and grind, also spin cotton, scrape potatoes, rock the cradle, darn stockings, pare nails, whittle shingles, whistle Yankee Doodle, play checkers, and puff itself in the news papers. SUCOBSPFUL AUTIIORSIIIP.—The Boiton Traveler understands that Mrs. H. B. Stowe received, nn the 9th inst., front her publishers, Messrs. 'Jewett & Co., the sum of ten thousand three hundred dol• tars as her copy right premium nn three months sales 010 Uncle Tom's Cabin." LORD Norm, during a severe sickness. said told. physician—" Sir, I am obliged to you for introducing me to some old se , quaintanoes." "Who are they, my lord?" inquired the doctor. "My ribs,' replied his lordship, "which I 'have not felt for many years until now." The following advice of President With]. erspoon'to his pupils might belt benefit to some orators oldie present day the • first place take care that ye tie'er begin to speak till ye lia' something to say; and secondly, be sure to leave off as soon as yo ha' done." CEMENT TO MEND EARTHEN AND GLANS WARE.—This cement sold about the country as a great micron, is ng,thing more than shellac melted, and drawn into *ticks. Heat the article a little above boil ing water heat, and slimly a thin coating on both surfaces of the hruken vessel, and when coW it will be as strong as it wee o riginally. An eccentric man inW Bath, Maine, Was Wad to'contribute to Foreign Missions: He gave a quarter of a dollar, hut stopped the agent as he was departing, and said : "Here - is a dollar to pay the expenses of getting that quarter to the heathen." A word w the wise. ' An old bachelor having been laughed at by a party of girls, told thorn—" You are potatosi "We . mar be "small otatoes,'" said one of thOm, " - but 'e ire toed ones 1" A lean, very muchintozioated, :was sent to durance vile. "Why didn't yen 'bait Vitt .out ?" 'inquired a . .bystander. bin i 'out," eioildnied the other, .4gyo edeldn't pump him oat" • , , I am going to draw tltie baoujoto o.k not, as the lady,said - whoa a4totliiig at, th0.,1ty,... amisisltotr..' . • . Loilsioughog ratli'-A 'lawyer leiiine44l6 :who iledOuitipiOr *Moto from yOur'inemies Odd - • • yps bio u. ttorse f', horsit)scki. "so; nptcxae replied ,Eliniou."`bol I have broken: Sinai ikr Four wagons. ' 'ONLY Too TRUE.-.. 116 who has most of heart knows most of sorrow. The average ago of farmers in abotit6 ya►a. Profogoioaal woe 67. • Why is a rhinoceros after swallowing a tiger oat, like a Boman swordsman ? cause ho is glad•ht-age•lstr I TWO, DOLLARS PER AMID NUMBER. io Scott, who oft to Victory led wha hoe 'of Wallace bled." Bcott, who for his country bled, &mt. who ne'er from duty fled, ~..4 . l c ott, who oft to victory led, He shall still our chieftain be. Trust to him in danger's hour ; bbould the schemes or traitors lour, Es will battle all their power-- ' Speed our glorious destiny. 'limn, who for his country bled, dec. Who doth fear a pierce or throit I Every king shall bite the dust! Countrymen ! a nation's tryst, Reseue,from a bigot's band ! Scott, who (or his country bled, ttc. Who would not reward the brevet Forth ! your country'e credit save-- Huner hint who honor gave— On with Scott to victory !' Scott, who for hi 4 country bled, &c. ' From the farpe of Chippewa, Queenstown Heights, "litigate, Old Fort George, and Florida, 4 Ses the conquering hero coolies el- Scott, who for his country bledollcci By the field+ of Mexico, Covered with our country's foe, He Wu scattered or laid low ; . On with Scott to , victory ! Scott, who for hie country bled, tkott, who ne'er from duty Hed, Scott, who oft to victory led, He obeli Mill opr chieftain be! Diary of , an Officer. The Wilmington Journal - IMA iiTtieid - DI 12 4 1 ita _hands the Dia of an officer of thear my, who served t pen. Scott in MeiitO: . The writer was u eye-witneas to, tho facts recorded, and we subjoin some of theta ne follows: , , , . soorr's mum You, nis soumm, °V A ora Scott's regard for hia soldiers was visible in every act be committed. • Wikon,the fleet salldd' from Anton 'Li zard°, Gen- Scott was fe. 4 rful the el i cl ui• had planted masked batteries upon the shore of Vora and - woald contest the the landing of his intl.. Her sent for his genoialtlfteirs, and exPlOined'to them that if suo was the easc,he wOuld disombirkin the 'night and thus - endeavor to shield his soidiore. 'Notwithstanding, hosiover, this viler, ho directed the steaMer Iflassaehtt; sotto (his headqntirters) to"come clUssi long side of the steamer iktdors, (en:beard , of'whieh viai'Gon..Twigge) and in inaud ible voice addressed him thus, , opefierni," ' raid he ....v . the tinnily have, planted bid ter les upon S he4here. teii#.!pC,loo4::;43- open daylight pray last "porch, to youjw, PMPag4P 4 '--Itistma.A._ t3iiattloS4ll44' ,4 Stricken dtunt nhotild be the ininf ifbe would attempt to sully the . ,pitrifi qfo' General's heart. BCOl 4 l' ATTENDING Tilt , - SICK 4,Nifr :1•401:0. On the 17th of April' the wrier hid marched from. Plattdelßie.st sae unediti position preparatory,to tlut greet ,etTuggie th a t was to take place the nextdeY-•;Olnr) Scott's untiring energy • hadfillednm, i bosom with, high .bope, , , and e r ver,r„eye l brightened ,whea gasiug,ott r his noble ,fursce, The night of the rith,witokeeettPl,oo l r. 411, in dictating ordure awl' teetulieg minable plans for the fight, .• Althott,O,Pie„ old hero was sulferinglow*tagtico4;l4, consequent* of his ardnenitAil t lo +! , ,Ao'4tfofn, orthelera ref u sed-t o rest • ntit4.4.lo PP , / ploted every neoessors.*MniMAl felt 4 welfare of• his -army. hint the niostoni mite object .escaped his .watchful lnyeee-. Ills 'soldiers 'he looked Ake ebildres, and they in turn 144ledrnedliiri*,,,d3r,,a1,,trii',.. gard him mt tlielifether." hearts he was t4retr Anerated idely : and, well did'they serve , •• • • ~:, The battle of Okra' Obige 3tt too 'Well .tinderatoiat,to minim regipitelatiOn 4 there are some inei&nta4anknioinliy4 it that ahoiald be known to the putlre4l,, end, the writer of these Linea wait an eye-witness to the Oecilintnfte :' The evening of the 'lath of April, when_ 'the battle had long subsided, the troops were engaged in moving the , !entitled to some cane huts whieh, atop at the fetat of the height's when) ; the - fight: hail tram" Most. severely contested.. lba Corte' Gordo contained a mutation number- of rocky Where the unfortivetto,,s,cstd ea !lad 41'zgarlY iriitsAtif &Paid" them , : selves - Theseareh after these poor fellows was extremely toilketne." Night foil at Inatvp-' the neat; the'iniion in lily& brightness was throwing—its-twomi-beame-over the bloody battle ground; fitid,niftlifn& was hear(l,save the , wild WWI ot wolves as they . wanderfd in droves over. the !till sitlo--v Towards ten 'o'clock a form was' anal en- Voloped in a,long cloak, and atnidmi by 'a single compaitio'n, b) ascend the Path lead , lug up, tits , heights , and, pursue his way noisiessly to the spot where the "right of the Mexican Army" had been posted. 'gist form form towering in its tuaiesty was toe Well, known not to have be.eu 'intently re-, cognized., It was Winfield Seet4 sittendiut in person to Mark if hit orders ins reepeot to the wounded had been sttrietly obeyed. Bright tears were in hiseiies ss he OZAd 611 the scene before him—the dead lay in mann, thickly covering the bloody nil, was , when standing with his arras erased upon his Ardent, and his 'beta bowed In thought, (belaisholy plough) that a pain ful groan broke upon the air. But se opm f ., pletely wrapped in meditation was he that. be heard it not; ilia "Onfeily, ll trltollas attending mono- little dieting in roar Ot him beard it, blit hesitated some menewtm ere be would Tedium to break the Awe by M - MN
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers