BY D. A. & C. H. BUEHLER
VOLUME XXIIL}
p? We find, says Bryant, the following linos in
the lut numberof the Loubwilkl Ettuniner, where
they db not purport to be original. The writer
emplot s a .singular combination of seriousness,
tenderness, and playfullneas, to express the feel
ings of a father, when first introduced to his first-
born. The merit of thus urges makes us &sham.
el that we cannot give to our made m the name of
their author:
My BOY.
"There is even a happiness that makes the heart
afraid."—Hood.
One more new claimant for human fraternity ;
Swelling the flood that sweeps on to eternity.
I who have filled the cup tremble to think of it ;
For be it what it may I must still drink of it.
Room for him into the ranks of humanity ;
Give him a place in your kingdom of vanity I
Welcome the stranger with kindly affection ;
Hopefully, trustfully, not with dejection.
See, in his waywardness, how big fist doubles;
Thus pugilistical, daring life's troubles.
Btrango that the neophyte enters existence
In such an attitude, feigning resistance.
Could he but have • glimpse into futurity,
Well might he fight against further maturity;
Yet does it seem to me as if his purity
Were against sinfulness ample security.
Incomprehensible. budding immortal,
Thrust all amazedly undet lire's portal ;
Born to a destiny clowded in mystery,
Wisdom itsell cannot guess at its history
Something too much of this Timon•like croaking;
See his face wrinkle now, laughter provoking.
Now he cries lustily—bravo, my hearty one !
Lungs like au orator cheering his party on.
Look how his merry eyes turn to me pleadingly
Usti we help loving him--loving exceedingly 1
Partly with hopefullness, partly with fears,
Mine as 1 look at him moisten with tears.
New then, to (Ind e name—where 'hall we search
for it !
Turn to his ancestry, or to the church for it 1
Shall we endow him with title heroic,
After some warrior, poet, or stoic 1
I lne aunty says he will soon "lisp in numbers."
Turning his thniaghis to rhy me e'en in his slumbcrs.
Watts rhynfil bahyhood, no blemish spots his
Christen him even so; young Mr. Watt's his name
(From the Friend of Youth.
"Mumma, I'll wake up Happy V'
I=IZI=I
These were the lest words of a beautiful child,
who we. seised with convulsions that night, and
died at morning
°Mamma! I'll wake up happy !"
A rosy prattler *mid,
Aa merrily ahe nestled in
liar little trundle•bed.
She hod just ended winch
W ith reverent lisp end look,
"Let little children come to me"—
The sweet words.) esus spoke.
She knew not any other
Beside. thus vaning prayer ;
It was enough--4bar :Saviour heard,
And took her in his care !
"Mamma ! I'll wake so happy !"
She limited in baby glee ;
And nice again the good night kiss
Dropped on het tenderly.
, 'Good night, my little darling!"
An echo chirped. Good night !"
And forth the loving mother went,
With heart and footstep light.
Before the hour of midnight.
A messenger came down,
To touch that softly•leeping babe,
And seal her for his own.
"Oh, speak to me my darling!"
Her mother called in vain ;
"it is mamma, my precious one !
Speak 0111-V to her again!"
She spoke no word—no whisper
But, when the morning broke ,
A veil dirty whiteness fell
Upon her, and she woke—
Oh. yea, she "woke op happy "
Never again to sleep !
Never to know an hour of night I
Never again w weep
'Twos better, mourning mother,
That she should wake in heaven,
Before her white soul wore a stain
Ot sin to be forgiven
She only went to open
The golden gates for thee !
Smile, mother ! she shall be thine own
Through all eteroity !
A Num THOUGHT.—Rothschild is
formd to centent himself with the same
as the poor newspaper writer, and the
great banker cannot order a private sunset,
or add one ray to the magnificence of night.
The same sir swells all lungs. Each one
possesses, really, only his own thoughts
and his senses, soul and body—these are
the property which a man owns. All
that is valuable is to be had for nothing in
the world. Yon may buy a rich bracelet,
but not. a well turned arm to wear it—a
pearl necklace but not a pretty throat with
which it shall vie. The richest banker on
earth would vainly offer a fortune to be a
ble to write a verse like Byron. All come
into the world naked and go out naked ;
the differenoe in the fineness of a bit of
linen fur a shroud is not much. Man is
a handful of clay, which turns quickly back
again into dust.
BEWARE OP MAN TRAVI I—The supreme
Court of Connecticut has decided that a
correspondence in writing between a mar
riageable female and unmarried man is pre
sumptive evidence den engagement ! The
Judge says :
“That an engagement exists, or an olTer
has been made and accepted where a cor
respondence takes place between such
parties, as are described in this case, is, we
think, in accordance with general exper
ience, which is one of the usual and most
satisfactory tests of human evidence ; and
although, when taken alone and disconnect,-
ed from other facts, it may not be en strong
as some evidence that might be suggested,
yet we hold it competent to be submitted
to a jery and from which they mayfind'a
promise to inurry, if the evidence satis fi es
them of the fact."
Mrs. Hamilton, in her admirable story
of .*The Oottagers of Glenburnie," gives
three simple rules for the regulation of do.
pestle hairs, which deserves to be' re.
‘nuilliered, and which would; if carried in
to practice aid in making every house s
!I well orde red" one. They are as follows :
1: Do everything in its proper time. • 2.
Keep everything to its proper use. 3.
Put everything in its proper place,
TIM LIST DAYS OF BYRON.
"I passed the winter of Byron's death
in Greece," says a traveller, "and in the
latter part of February went to Missolon
ghi to see him. He was then suffering
from the effect of his fit of epilepsy, which
occurred on the 11th of February. The
first time I called at his residence I was not
permitted to see him; but in a few days I
received a polite note from htby at the
hand of his negro servant, who was a na
tive of America, and whom Byron was I
kind to and proud of to the last.
"I found the poet in a weak and rather
irritable state, but he treated me with the
utmost kindness. He said that at the
first time I called upon him, all strangers
and most of his friends were excluded from
his room. "But," said he, "had I known
an American was at the doer; you should
not have been denied. I love your coun
try, sir; it is the land of liberty ; the only
spot of God's green earth not desecrated by
tyranny."
"In our conversation I alluded to the
sympathy at that time felt in America for
struggling Greece. All he said at that
time in reply was, "Poor Geoce—poor
Greece 1 once the richest land on earth;
God knows I have tried to help thee."
"You will remember that but a little
time before this, Marco Bozzaris had fal
len. When I mentioned his name, Byron
said, "Marco Bozzaris ! He was as bravo
as an ancient Spartan. Perhaps he had
the blood of Leonidas in his veins, I pre
sume he had. But of this I am certain,
he bad as good blood as ever wet this soil."
"At his request, his servant then bro't
a rosewood box, from which he took a let
ter written to himself by that gallant chief.
It was a warm-hearted welcome of Byron to
Greece. "There," said the author of
Childs Harold, as he handed this precious
relic to me, "I would not part with that but
to see the triumph of Greece. That glor
ious hero, but a few moments before he led
his Suliot band forth to his last battle,
wrote this letter to me in his tent." As
he spoke those words a heroic smile lit up
his pale countenance, and I. am sure I nev
er saw such an expression on the face of
mortal man as at that moment flashed from
Byron's."
"Soon he fell upon his couch, and at- I
ping the cold sweat from his lofty forehead,
once more exclaimed, "Greece ! God bless
thee and Ada! I only ask of Heaven two
things; and Heaven ought to grant them
—that Greece may become free, and Ada
cherish my memory when I am dead."
"In a few days after I left him I receiv
ed another note from him, requesting me
to call and bring with me Irving's Sketch
Book. I took it in my hand, and wont
once more to the illustrious author's resi
dence. He rose from his couch when I en
tered, and pressing my hand warmly, said,
"Have you brought thd Sketch Book ?"
I handed it to him, when, seizing it with
enthusiasm, he turned to the "Broken
Heart." "That," said be, 'is one of the
finest things ever written on earth, and I
want to hear an American read it. But
stay, do you know Irving? I replied that
I had never seen him. "God bless him :"
exclaimed Byron ; "he is a genius ; and has
something better than genius.-a - heart...-
I wish I could see him, but I fear I never
shall. Well, read--.the Broken Heart,
What a word !"
"ri f elosing the first paragraph, I said,
"Shall I confess it T I believe in broken
hearts." "Yes," exclaimed Byron, "and
ao do I; and—so does every body but philes.
ophers and fools :" so I waited whenever
he interrupted me, until ho requested me
to go on; for although the text is beauti
ful, yet I cared more for the commentary
as it came fresh from Byroq's heart....
While I was reading one of the most touch
ing portions of that mournful piece, I ob
served that Byron wept. He turned his
eyes upon me, and said, "you we me weep,
sir. Irving himself never wrote that story
without weeping; nor can I hear it without
tears. I have not wept much in this world,
for trouble never brings team to my eyes;
but I always have tears for the Broken
fleart."
"When I read the last line of Moore's
verses at the close of the piece, Byron said,
"What a being that Tom is, and Irving,
and Emmet and his beautiful love
What beings all l Sir, bow many snob
men as Washington Irving are there in
America T God don't send many such
spirits into this world, I want to go to
America for five reasons, I want to see
Irving; I want to see your stupendous
scenery; I want to see Washington's grave;
I want to see the t olassie form of living free,
dont ; and I want to get your government
to recognise Greece as an independent nu
tion. Poor Greece."
"Those were the last days of Byron ; and
I shall «wider myself happy that I was
permitted so often to be with him. I have
day by day ',etched the workings of his
lofty imagination while be lay upon his
oonoh or sat by his window, and deep trout),
led thought lit up with an earthly glow his
beautifkl features, or clouded than in
&oom. It was a painfal*speotecle to see
yron's fong wasting away by &eve
GSTTYSBURG, PA. FRIDAY EONING, AUGUST 27 1 1862,
I never gazed on him after we first met
without feeling as I think I should feel
to see a powerful stream undermining in ita
progress the foundations of some classic
temple. It was inexpressibly painful; but
yet there was something very sublime in
the struggle .Of his proud spirit with the
advancing king of terrors. His full,
bright eye, which sometimes burnt so rest
lessly, revealed a spirit free, tameless and
unconquerable as the proud ocean.
" 'ln a few hours,' said the faithful
Fletcher, as he related these facts to me,
'my master called me to his bedside, and
said, begin to think I'm going to die
pretty soon, Fletcher, and I shall give you
several directions, which I hope you will
be particular to execute, if you love me'
Fletcher did love his master, and told him
he would do everything faitfally, and he
expressed the hope that he should not be
called to part with him. 'Yes you will,'
said Byron; 'it's nearly all over now ; I
must tell you without losing a moment.—
I see my time has come to die.'
"Fletcher went to get a portfolio to write
I down his master's words. Byron called
him back, exclaiming, 'O, my God ! don't
waste time by writing, for I have no time
to waste. Now hear me—YOU will be pro
vided for. 0 my poor dear child ! My
dear Ada I My God could I have but
seen her Give her my blessing, and my
dear sister Augusta, and her children ; and
you will go to Lady Byron and say—tell
her every thing—YOU are friends with her.'
And tears rolled down his emaciated face.
"His voice here failed him, so that only
now and then a word was audible. For
some time ho muttered something very ser
iously, and finally raising his voice, said,
'Now Fletcher, if you do not execute eve
ry order I have given you, I will torment
you hereafter if possible.'
"Poor Fletcher wept over his dying
roaster, and told him he could not under
stand a word of what he bad last been say
ing. '0 my God !' said Byron, 'then all
is lost, for it is now too late. Can it be
possible you have not understood me ?'—
Fletcher replied, 'No, but do tell me again
more clearly, my Lord.' How can I ?
said Byron ; 'it is too late, and all is over.'
Fletcher replied, 'not our will, but God's
be done.' Yes,' said he, 'not mine be
done; but I will try once more.' He
made several efforts to speak, but through
the indistinct muttering of the dying man,
only a few broken accents could be dis
tinguished, and they were about his wife
and child.
"After many inefficient and painful ef
forts to make known his wishes, at the re
quest of his friend, Mr. Parry, to compose
himself, ho shed tears, and apparently sunk
into slumber, with an expression of grief
and disappointment on his countenance.—
This was the commencement of the leth
argy of death."
"I believe the last words the great poet
spoke on earth were, must sleep now.'—
How full of meaning those words wore !
Yes, ho had laid himself down to his last
sleep. For twenty-four hours not a hand
or foot was seen to stir; although the heart
which had been the home of such wild feel
ing still continued to beat on. Yet it
was evident to all around his bedside that
the angel of death bad spread his dark
wings over Byron's pillow.
On the evening of the 17th of April, he
opened his fine eye for the last time, and
closed it peacefully, without any appear
ance of pain. "0 in, God ! exclaimed the
kind Fletcher, "I fearmy master is gone."
The doctor then felt his pulse, and said,
"You are right, 113 is gone l"
It is imposiiblo to describe the sensation
produced at Missolonghi by the death of
Lord Byron. All Greco, too, was bathed
in tears. F,very public demonstration of
respect and sorrow was paid to his memo
ry, by firing minute guns, closing all pub
lic offices and shops, and suspending the
usual Eastern festivities, by a general
mourning, and funeral prayers in all the
churches, Ilia body was embalmed by
physicians, and preparations Were made
for taking it to England. 4 few days af
ter his death, his honored remains were
borne to the church where the body of
Mateo &awls was buried. The coffin
was a rude chest ef wood; a black mantle
was his only pall; and over it were placed
a helmet, a sword, and a crown of laurel.
Here the bier rested two days, and a
round gathered a thousand noble hearts
who had loved the generous poet. I stood
by that coffin a long time; and more tears
wore shed over it than I ever saw fall upon
the dust of a great man. But the simple
hearted, grateful people, who crowded at
ttchurch, loved him not as the au
or of Childs Harold's Pilgrimage, but as
the distinguished benefactor of greeoo•—*
A detachment of his own brigade guarded
his body. There was something indesori.
bably more affecting and sublime in this
spa:Mole than in the gorgeous display that
usually attends the funeral obsequies of
the gmat,
I remained in the church till , the shad,
owe of sight IA fallen aroma that sol
emn place, and there could be seen the
rude forma of the descendants of I'4t ea
Mieved spinet their River
' , FEARLESS AND FRB**
gleaming in the unoertain *of the wax
candles burning before thalltax, and in
the centre of the church a 100,11 p of emaci
ated Greeks bending over illustriotus
dust. It was all in keepinkltith the po
et's own wayward sonl.
AN ORATOR AT FAULT."* I / 1 8 , re was. In
the neighborhood of Renste&r County,
some twenty years ago, a 111 tier pompous
and worthy. individual, who!, "standing in
It e
society" caused him to. , selected, on
such public occasions al , Fourth of
July, as a political meeting: address the
people. Covering a large lee of bread
with a very small piece *Ater in his
oratory, he not unfrequentlyjost his ante
cedants, and involved hint,vg, in an inter
minable fog. from which 4tlvas impossi
bleit to be extricated. a Fourth of
July occasion, he, was to ean address
to the "outsiders," on asi ' from a can
non, which was to app , those who
could not get seats at the t tit inside, that
he was about to speak. *came out up
on the pizza of the inn where the dinner
was held, with his face flushed with wine,
ran his hand through his ,rital hair, till tt
rose up like "flames from taillight confla
gration starting," and twilling to a broad
satin ribbon in his button-hae, began :
..Facaoar•Crriaass t fieveSyna hendred as d
seorary-six years ago, General gaoaea Walla
i airoar, whom I wear in my m-hole, died!"
A loud roar of laughter Airly shook the
ground. The, orator tried to go on in the
right way. But he coulikt't correct him
sel ; he stuck and stumbled at the seven
teen hundred and twenty-eik" again, or a
combination of the . &gores, a'id finally
gaffe - up in despair.
RETALIATORY.—In coiipany an Eng
lish lady, half jocularly, ofeeurse, attribut
ed a very polite readinees 'for wine to the
daughters of Erin. "I believe that in Ire
land," she obserVed, "it is qute customary
for a lady, if she catches the eye of a ger•.-
tleman earnestly directed to her at the din
ner table, to say, "Port, if you please !"
Promptitude is the order of the day."
"Yes," replied the lady, not over•
pleased with the insinuation. and deter
mined to repay it with interest ; "and the
promptiude takes another direction in your
country."
"How do you mean ?"
"Why, when tm English lady finds a
gentleman's eye upon her at the table, I
understand she averts her countenance,
and blushing, says in her gentlest tone.
"You tnnst ask papa."
A MAHOMMEDAN ' I9 IDMA OF A CHRITSIAN
hif.RCHANT.—Same years ago a Philadel
phea merchant sent a Orgo of goods to
Constantinople. Alter the supercargo
saw the halos and trot," safely 'landed. he
inquired where they could be safely
stored.
"Leave them here ; it won't rain to
night," was the reply.
"But I dare not leave them thus exposed ;
some of the goods might be stolen," said
the supercargo.
The Mshontmedan merchant burst into
a loud laugh, as he replied ; "Don't he a
larmed, there ain't a Christian within 6f•
ty miles of here."
YOUTHFUL KNOWLSDOE.-4t was al
ways considered a great affair for a youth
to teach his grandmother how to suck eggs.
This is the way it was done by one prom•
ising sprout :
"You see, grandma," we perforate an
aperture in the apex, and a corresponding
aperture in the base, and by applying the
egg to the lips and forcibly inhaling the
breath, the shell is entirely discharged of
its contents."
"Bless my soul !" exclaimed the old la.
dy. "wha' wonderful improvements they
do make. Now in my young days they
just made a hole in both ends and sucked.
A young and pretty girl stepped into
a store where a spruce young man win,
had long been enamored but, dared not
speak, stood behind the counter selling dry
goods. In order to remain as long as pos-
sible, she cheapened everything, and at
last said . "I believe you think lam cheat
ing you." "Oh, no," said the youngster,
"to me you are always fair." "Well,"
whispered the lady, blushing as she laid an
emphasis on the word, "I would not stay
so long bargaining if you were not so dear."
WHEN a Chinese lady is blessed with
an increase in her family, from the mo
ment of her acoouchment the unhappy
husband is put to bed also, and there, de
tained for forty days, and during this de
lightful penance he is subjected to all the
rigorous treatment of his better half.—
Should medicine be administered to her,
he must partake of it also, and he is strict
ly confined to the same diet that site is o
bliged to undergo, which consists, on an
average, I believe, of about a thimbleful of
cream of rice, administered every three
hours, to say nothing of the pill at bed time to
prevent indigestion.—Nears Residence at
Siam.
Elsnms.—An editor who has been mar.
tied about a year, speaking of the babies,
says :—.l'fhe delight of the days, the tor
ment of the nights; elegant in full dress,
but horrible in dishabille; beautiful on the
smile, but maddening on the yell ; exquis
itely in plane in the nursery, but awfully
de frop in the parlor, tog°, or railroad oar ;
the fountains of all joy, and something
else; the wellsprings of delight, and the
recipients of unlimited spankings ; the
glory of Pa, the happiness of 'Ma ;' who
wouldn't have 'em j"
Mirth begets mirth. It is one of the
best things to preserve health. It can
hardly by maintained without it, Instead
of doctoring, laugh heartily and orlon. it is
cheaper, does more good. end leaves you
in a better condition,
TitX Mltigljplstioq of distresses softens
the'mind of man, and makes the heart bet,
ter. It extinguishes the seeds of envy and
towsrds mankind, corrects the pnde
of prosperity, and beats down ill that
fierceness and insolence which are apt
to get in the win 4 or the delitif and Orly-
RON
The Boy and Man.
A few years ego, there was, in the city
of Boston, a portrait painter, whose name
was Mr. Copley. He did not succeed
very well in his business. and concluded
to go to England and try his fortune there.
He bad a little son whom he took with
him, whose name was John Singleton
Copley.
John was a very studious boy, and made
such rappid progress in his studies that
his father sent him to college. There he
applied himself so closely to his books,
and became so distinguished a scholar,
that his instructors predicted that he would
make an eminent man.
Alter he graduated he studied. law.—
And when he entered upon the practice of
his profession, his mind was so richly dis
ciplined by his previous diligence. that he
almost immediately obtained celebrity.—
One or two eases of very great importance
being entrusted to him, ha managed them
with so mtich wisdom and skill as to at-
tract the admiration of the whole British
nation.
The King and his cabinet seeing what
a learned man he was, and how much in
fluence he had acquired, felt it to be im
portant to secure his services fox the Gov
ernment. They therefore raised him from
one point of honor to another, till he was
created Lord High • Chancellor of Eng
land. the very highest post of honor to
which any subject can attain;
so that John
Singleton Copley is now Lord Lyttliurst,
Lord High Chancellor of England. A
bout sixty years ago he was S little boy in
Boston. His fattier was a poor portrait
painter, hardly able to get his daily bread.
Now John is at the head of the nobility of
England : one of the most distinguished
men, in talent and power, in the House of
Lords, and regarded with reverence and
respect by the whole civilized world.—
This is the reward of- industry. The stu
dious boy becomes the useful and respect
ed man.
Had John S. Copley spent his days in
idleness, he probably would have passed
his manhood in poverty and shame. But
he studied in school, when other boys
were idle ; he studied in College, while
other young menwere wasting their time;
he adopted for his motto, •tUltra Porgere.".
(Press Onward,) and how rich has been
his reward !
You, my young friends, are now laying
Ike foundation of your future file. You
are every day at school; deciding the
question, whether you will be useful ind
respected in life, or whether your man
hood shall be passed in mourning over the
follies of misspent boyhood.
Guam a learned lecture by a German
adventurer, one Baron Vondullbrains, he
illustrated the glory of mechanics as a sci
ence trios :—De Ong dat Is made is more
superior as de maker. I shall show you
how in some tings. Sup pose I make de
round wheel of de coach ? Ver well ; dat
wheel roll round NU mile I—and 1 cannot
roll one myself ! Suppose I 8111 a cooper,
vot you call, and I make de big tub to hold
wine t He holds bons and gallons ; and I
cannot hold more as five bottles! So you
see dat what is made is more superior as
de maker."
BAKIID MM.—Most persons boil hams.
they are much better baked. if baked
right. Soak for an hour in clean water,
and wipe dry, and then spread it all over
with thin batter, and lay it in a deep dish,
with sticks under to keep it out of the gra.
vy. When fully tleae, take off the skin
and batter crusted upon the flesh side, and
set it away to cool. You will find it very
delicious, but too rinh for dyspeptics. Su
says one of our agricultural exchanges.
INJURY TO THE OAT CROP.—A new en
may to the farmer has this year made kr
appearance in the neighborhood of Read
lug. Pa., in the shape of a catapillar, some
what similar to the worm which attacks
the corn, The Lebanon Democrat states
that these catapillars have appeared in
large swarms upon a number of farms in
Lebanon county, and Marion, Berke coun
ty, and destroyed oats, corn and grass.
It was a judicious resolution of a father,
as well a most pleasing compliment to his
wife, when, on being asked what lie inten
ded to do with his girls, he replied; I in
tend to apprentice then; all to their excel
lent mother, that they may learn the art of
improving time, and be fitted to become,
like ber, wives, mothers, and heads of fam
ilies, and useful members of society."
There is nothing purer than honesty ;
nettling sweeter then charity ; nothing
warmer than love ; nothing brighter shun
virtue ; and nothing more steadfast than
faith, These, united iu one mind, furor
the purest, the sweetest, the richest, the
brightest, the hollow, and the most stead
fast happiness.
Cgrt.Puooo.—'There are some children
left at least 1 met one the other day. It
was a little fellow of five years. He had
come with his father into the country to
see one of my friends. As soon as he left
;he carriage he ran to the kennel of a large
watch. dog that was chained iq the court
yard.
"Don't touch the dog," I cried, 'he'll
bite you."
"Why will he bite me I
"Because he don't know you."
"Oh I if that's all," he replied, "I'll tell
him that I am Henry,"—Oarpel Bag.
Tits Star, heretofore a neutral paper,
conducted with considerable ability at
Jackson, Miss., immediately after tho
Baltimore nomination, hoisted the Pierce
and King flag. A. lumber second sober
thought," however, wrought a change. and
the flag has disappeared. Wliat eau 'bp
the muter
Itr atteoipting to rinse a Pierce pole of
Madison, la., it fell twice, and flintily broke
in two. A wag, handing bribaid that the
pole had'given a perfect epitome of thir
military life of goo, Pierce. vie : " Two
faints and a fall."
The Chicago Tribune. formerly a nen.
tral paper, lase come atil* favor of 1300“
And Qrpham, $*
-1 ' Prom tho Boston Olive Brooch.
A Veritable Incident at Mount
Auburn.
A mother had laid her darling in the
earth. Many mothers have done this ; la
is an every day occurrence. Myriads of
little sculptured forms have been thus laid
to rest. with blinding tears, (like 114
Mary.)
Friends and inquaintances accompany
them to "the narrow door." and there they
leave them. Not so the mother I Ah
there is an empty crib iit'the nursery; there
is an Untenanted chair at the tabby; there
are little frocks !lunging up in the ward.
robe; there are half worn shoes about, with
the impress of a clitibby little foot; there is
a useless straw hat in the entry ; thele are
toys that have been borne its wearer hap
, py company ; there are little sisters left„
(and they are loved.) but oh I not like the
dead I It was the first born, and every
mother who reads this, will understand the
heighth and breadth. and length and depth,
of that word In all the wide earth. there
is no spot so dear to her as the little mound
that covers her child, and she weeps and
shudders when the cold wind sweeps past
at night, and would fain warm its chilled
limbs in the familiar resting place. She
knows the casket is rifled of the gem. but
the eye of frith is blind with teare.sndshe
would not, if she could. divest herself of
the Idea that such companionship would
make that "long, last sleep" more peace
ful.
So felt my bereaved friend Emma
and the watchful love of her husband provi.
ded her a temporary home near the grave
of little Mary. The rough gardner would
draw his hand across his eyes, as he pass
ed her every morning at early dawn, sit
ting by that little fiend-atone, crowning
her child with the flowers sheloved best ;
and the unfilled finger, and softened tread
of the stranger, testified his mute sym
pathy.
One evening the expressed a desire to
go in "after the gates •were closed." She
WAS SO restleitsly miserable that it seemed
a cruelty to deny her, and we , affected an
entrance through a broken palisade.', A
mid that silent company we were alone
'Fite stars shone on as brightly as when
the rayless eyes beneath had looked lov
ingly and hopefully upon their radiance.--
The timid little birds fluttered under the
leaves as we passed. The perfume of 'a
thousand flowers was borne past up on the
night breeze. In that'spiratual atmosphere
earth seemed to dwindle, and the spirit (like
a caged bird,) beat against the bars of its
prison house, and longed to try its pinions
in a freer air. There was an unearthly
expression on Emma's face that recalled
me to myself. I gently drew her away
from the grave, but no perms mien could
induce her to leave the cemetery, Her
cheek was as pale as a snow wreath. but
we wandered on--on•--till reaching alcove
seat, beneath the trees, she wearily leaned
ter head upon my shoulder, and we sat
alentiy down.
Listen ! Distinctly, a sweet, childish
voice rings out upon the still air:-"moth
er mother !" Emma started to her feet,
(clasping me tightly, with lips apart, ■nd
eyes fixed in the direction of the sound.--
Neither spoke;) and though I am no be
lieve in the supernatural, my limbs totter
ed under me. With trembling finger Em
ma silently pointed in an opposite three-
Lion. It was no illusion! 'There was a
little figure, in white, gleaming through the
darkneis, with outstretched arms and
snowy robe, end 4owing hair I "Moth
er ! Mother !" As it approached nearer
to us, Emma fell heavily to the ground.
It was long before she recovered from
the shock, and yet, dear reader, the solu.
tion is simple. Her youngest child, es
caped from its bed, (and the charge of a
canine nurse.) had started with childhood's
fearless confidence. to seek us in the dim,
labyrinthine paths of the cemetery.
Ah. little Minnie I after all, it was 'tan
angel" that we saw ; "robed in white,"
with that shining hair and seraph face !
A boy was praising the skill with which
a sister played the piano forte.
"Why," said he, ...she once imitated
thunder so naturally, that' the old mimeo
had to stop her."
"What was that for r asked a person
standing near.
"Because the imitation of thunder turn
ed all the milk sour !"
A uorrespondent of the Ohio Cultivator
vouches for the merit of the following re.
ceipe for vinegar one quart of
molasses, three gallons of rainwater, and
one pint of yeast, Let it ferment and
stand for fooy weeks, and you will have
the beet of vinegar.
No reputation can be permanent which
does nut spring from principle; ant! he
who would maintain a good name should
be mainly solicitous to maintain a good
character void of offence towards God and
man.
Happiness is not in a cottage, nor a pal
ace, nor in riches, nor in poverty, nor in
learning, nor in ignorance, nor in passive
life; but in doing right, from right motives.
pa4sione aot as wind to propel our yes.
eel, and our reason is the pilot that steers
her. Without the wind, we coula not
move, without the pilot, we should be lust.
Franklin says a poor man must work to
End meat for his stomach; a rich one, to
find stomach for his meat.
Adversity does not take fruit; us our true
riends, it only disperses those who pre
end to be such.
Theodora' Hook say' of milmada and
steainboate—'rhev annihilate apace and
time, not to mention a Multitude of pae.
sengers.. •
Congarinamarr.—The evening before
the battle, an officer asked Marshal Toiras
(or permission to.go and see his father.
who was at the point of death. digo "
said the Marshal, who saw through his
pretext ; honor thy father and thy moth
er, that thy days may be long in the land.
It is not su , cient that you are beard,
you mu" ba Naid With 0011411,1
TWO DOLLA2B nOt
INEMBER 24.
POLITICAL.
A SoldWV* sons tog• ipmek
Terie,--"Canar xi teen"
Stand back, stand back,
He's on the track,
A General all too soon;
.1 *Contreras, "7 .
fall, alas,
But fell into a swoon ;
For forty days,
So history says,
Hi lad la WIIITIOMoo;
Then went afloat.
The first steamboat,
When victory was won.
Chorus—Then carry me back,
Then carry me back,
To old New Hampshire alms %
I am only great,
In the Granite State,
& General now no more.
The Whip aver,
He never ware.
A, nom of 'leathers and furs
He faints wheroe'er.
There is danger near,
From swords or blunderbuss ;
Why should he not
Rely on Scott,
When love of mufti cast •";
Old soldiers must
Soon bite the dust,
Pierce only faints and %Us i
Chores—Than carry me back. &a,
Now, ammo troy
Will '!dies or do."
As vatarap Inkling Imo, 7•
Bat want of pluck,
With Pierre's lack.
OR snakes a gallant show s
A warrior steed
In time of need;
Will keep his loodngsont
A nervosa hand
Can ne'at command
His nag when cannons rear ;
Chows—Then catty me back, ilte.
Illreapows of LoCoibiolsm.
The Revilers of Washington, Mg and
feebIe—ETERNALLY
constitutionally INCA PA BLE of comprehends*
political measures or estimating political wants—
PRE4U.I.I PTION taker the place of knowledge,
and EGOTISM usurps the privilege of Judg
ment.' By no strength of effort can he disguise
the bold character of the MERCENARY soldier
whose life' has been spent in the dull routine of
mint's.) , duty, while his intellect has grown as un,
plastic s the musket under his command.--Doeu
ocrigie Union.
The above infamous paragraph is worthy
the slanderer who wrote it,--worthy of
the unscrupulous partisan* who, during
the campaign 441844, denounced HURT
01.&Y as a "murderer," and "gambler,"
and "drunkard," and "Sabbath-breaker,"
and bloodhound:like, hunted bhn to hi*
tomb - Shama! shame lon the libeller*
who thus Toward the sliver-halTed,scareov
ered Hero, who; for forty years, has nobly
served his gonntry, fighting her battles, and
crowning her arms with glory in every con,
test. "ETERNALLY SILLY 1" And
this of a man who has torn down the Brit,
ish flag at Fort Cloorge—,,whese finger vs*
the rode; to glory at Lundy's Lane and
Cherubnaco—aod who, after a suceeapion
of military achievements the mos brilliant
on reoowl, planted the "atm and striposl 3
in triumph on the hall of the Montt:swan
and this too, notwithstanding the heavy
"are in his rear" constantly kept up by
his I 4 ocofooo enigma at home "EV%
NALLY SILLY r This of the Hero of
Three Wars and the Statennaw in three
great epochs of our history, of whom it has
justly been said, "His is the military et*
of a Ctesar, and the civic virtue', of a Cin
cinnatus. Ills is the combined wisdom of
that old mato king which Tendered the
name of Brian Ilorrihme an expression ca
pable of the double meaning of • allowing
military rains and unequalled 041 toga*,
ity." •
How It Works.
Evracrs or Damen FM Twos 'iron
TUC UST INTERMITS Of
ACCerdipg to a statement in Hunt's llfer,
chants' Magazine, the importation of rail,
road iron alone, in 1851, amounted to one
hundred and forty thonsand tons, valued
at seven pillions sic hundred thousand
dollars! In 1062 the amount imported is
estimated at about one hundred and seven
ty.five thousand tons, valued at nboul ten
millions of dollars; making in two years
in the aggregate• in round numbers, sigh•
teen millions of dollars
All this urn could have been made in
our own - country; and, we may add. would
have been, had not the rolk end Dalian
tariff fraud succeeded in 1044. Here we
have, for one item, near eighteen millions of
dollars gent out of the country which would
have been retained here had not the tariff
of 1842 been repealed. That amnunt seat,
tered lihroughopt the country in small sik
ver coin, would Gast now be very cone, ,
nient in the way of , change.
What is the consequence! We can
giye no boner nor more etriking
tibn of the effects than that forpighed by
the Clarion Ite,gister, which has seven
columns pl advertisements of Sheriff's
sales. Among die e roperties to be sold
under the hammer, will be nine iron fur,
'laces, with furnace property, malting in
all about tventy-torte furnaces sold in than
county by the ltiliorilf within a year. The
whole industry of Clarion county is af
fected by these diaaster 5, as is shown by
the fact that nearly all the reel of the
property to be sold at ibis Sheriff's's - Me l
which, is adverthed in the Register: tint
slat of grist milk, saw WU*. 404 1 411 , 1 411,
and other Mills. Such ire the beistittlu
effects of British Free Trade, Ni won
der British' iron-masters pre in favor of
Fierce.
The , Louisville Journal says t et it 'kr
perfectly evident from one fact - dud Plait,
al Pierce is dreadfully unisiliteable io tLit
DainocruisEvery •Doluucrai Ihos :ha o
swallowed him has aver sigma look 441 Ito
ugly in the (ace as it he has
had egg. ', •
Good oomps . ny lad Stitteoll/1/1
*if tile Very
•
MEM=