BY D. A. & d. H. BUEH4'R VOLUME XXL,II.I TIIE Whit ort thou, ALMIONT4 Oirs and *here thy west ? Thou broodest on the calm that cheers the land', -„; And thou Jost hear within thine awful hands, The rolling.thundensalad the lightnings (Met. Thou gdia'st the rtiorthern storm at night's diasad noon. Or on the red wings of the floes M onsoon, Disturb'st the sleeping giant of the . ad. In the hear sileneekof the polar span Dost thou repose 1 or in the solitude Of sultry tracts, where the lone caravan Hears nightly howl the tiger's hungry brood 1 Vain thought ! the confines of his throne to trace Who glows through all the fields of boundless space. [Henry Kirk White. "ALL'S WELL", "Twelve o'clock at night, and all's wall." False prophet ! Still and statue-like at yonder window, stands the wife. The clock has told the small hours, yet her face is pressed closely against the window pane striving in vain with straining eye, to pierce the darkness. She sees nothing —she hears nothing—but the beating of her own heart. Now she takes her seat, opens a small bible and seeks from it, what comfort she may, while tears blister the pages. Then she clasps her hands, and her lips are tremulous with mute suppli cation. Iliat ! there is an unsteady step in the hail—she knows it I Many a time and oft it has trod on her very heart strings. She glides down gently' to meet the wan derer. lie falls heavily against her; and in maudlin tones, pronounces a name he Lad long since forgotten "to honor." Oh ' all enduring power of woman's love I—no reproach, no upbraiding—the slight arm passed around the reelingigure—once e rect in God's own image. With tender words of entreaty which is powerless to re sist, if he would, she lends him in. It is but a repetition of a thousand such vigils. It is the performance of a vow, with a he roism and patient endurence ton «minion and every day to be chronicled nu earth, too holy and heavenly to pass unnutieed by the "registering angels" above. "ALL'S WELL!" False prophet! In yonder luxurious room sits one whose curve it was to be as fair as a dream of Eden.— The time was, when those clear eyes look ed lovingly into a mother's faze—when a gray haired father laid his trembling hind' with a blessing, on that fair head—when brothers and sisters' vela.* blended with her own, in heart music around the happy hearth. Oh' where are they now v Are there none to say to the repentant Magda lene, '•Ncither do I condemn thee ; gu and sin no more:'" Must the gliked fetter continue to bind the soul that loathes it, because man is less merciful than trod ? "A Lt.'s WELL !" False prophet ! there lies the dead orphan ! In all the lengths and breadths of the green earth, there was found no sheltering nest where that lone ly dove could fold its wings, when the pa r, at bimls had flown. The brooding wing that covered it. was gone from the cold winds of neglect and unkindness. Love Issas its life; and so it dropped. "ALL'S WELL 1" False prophet! Sin walks the earth in purple and fine linen ; honest poverty, with tear-bedewed fare, hungers and shivers, and thirsts, "while the publican stands afar off." The widow pleads in vain to the ermined Judge for "justice ;" and, unpunished of Heaven, the human tiger crouches in his lair, and springs upon his helpless prey ! "ALL'S WELL !" Ah, yes; all is well ! For He who "seeth the end from the be ginning" holds evenly the scales of justice. "Dives shall yet beg of Lazarus." Every human tear is counted. They shall yet Sparkle as gems in the crown of the patient tkud enduring disciple ! When the clear, broad light of eternity shines upon life's crooked paths, we shall see the snares and pitfalls from which our hedge of thorns has fenced us in! And in the maturity of our full grown faith, we shall greeting ly say—" Father, not, as I will, but as Thou wilt."—Eatiny Fern. Forget-me-Not. "Grandmother," said :; little Gretchen, "why do you call this beautiful flower, blue as the sky, growing by this brook, a 'For got-me-not ?* " "My child," said the grandmother, "I accompanied your father, once, who was going on a long journey, to this brook.— He told me when I saw this little flower, I must think of him, and so we called it the 'Forge t-me-not.' " Said 'happy little Gretchen, "I have neither parents, nor sisters, nor friends from whom I parted. Ido not know who I can think of when I see the 'Forget-me. "I will tell you," said her grandmother, "some One*of whom this flower may remind you—Rim who made IL Every flower in the meadow , says, ‘.lletnember God !' and every flower in the garden and field says to us of its Creator, Torget-m,e-not.' " If there is a man who can eat his bread' in peace with tilni and man, it is that rasa who has brought tho bread out of,the earth by his owukonest industry. It is canker ed by no fraed-;—it is wet by no tear—it is stained by no blood.' ' • . A young lady, when mommouded to - therein for health, said she wheidjunly at an offer , and run her owa risk. BABES OF HEAVEN. BY MRS. DENISON. There are some infants who seem des tined for Heaven from their birth. Over these the mother may smile and weep, and watch the fragile beauty of cheek and brow m vain. Old and learned doctors may stand be side their little couches, and count the quick-beating pulse; but they cannot stay the steady footsteps of death—they cannot wave him back, that angel of Heaven.— Something is written in the blue eyes— the gentle smile, that mortals may never interpret; for them the tiny headstones stand in niches, fresh from the graver's hands. For them the little marble urns are already sculptured, and sweet spots in the burial grounds lie waiting. Hug it ever so closely to the fond bosom, the fa vored immortal is ever in the hands of the angels, and they will claim it. I have known a few such children. I remember, as I write, a sweet sister, who came when the bird pipes his first May song. For fifteen bright months she was spared to earth, but all who saw her gave ominous shakes of the head, and some said even with tears, "Shall she die?" Of all infant singers, none heard I ever sing like hor. From morning till night, from her twelfth month, her sweet, clear voice rang through the house. And she was neither taught this, nor paraded for her gift—but a friand coining in would be sure to hear 'Old Hundred' from the sing ing lips of a babe who might be clinging to the chairs in her first happy essay to walk. 'China and many of the ancient melodies, were us household words to that little erenture—and every day at twilight, nearly till the day she died, she would sing herself to sleep, lisping those old words: -Life is the time to serve the Lord." Precious angel ! !ler hie was holy ser vice. How happy she has been these long long yours, up there—singing ! I had another little sister, who died at the same age. I remember a still, beauti ful night, when I sat watching that sweet face—the pale hands, the laboring chest. Her mother, wearied out, had fallen into a sweet slumber. Suddenly, in that dying hour, the old tune of "Sweet Home" rang out clear, sweet and distinct. How can I describe the feeling that thrilled through all my veins, when looking at the little lips, pale and trembling, 1 saw them moving to the cadence of the cherished melody. There laid a baby, scarcely more than a year old, disease upon her, her temples whitening in death, singing a triumphal strain with a failing breath. No language can tell how awful was the scene. She sang it through to the last uote—aud her fragile form sunk backward. In the morning they were laying light ly and tenderly ou her limbs the burial shrUud. I heard lately a little story, which for pathos could not be excelled. A beautiful infant had been taught to say, (and it could say little else,) "God will take care of baby." It was seized with sickness, and at a time when both parents were hardly con valescent from a dangerous illness. Every day it grew worse, and at last was given up to die. Almost agonized, the mother prayed to be carried into the room of her darling, to give it one last embrace. Both parents succeeded in reaching the appart went, but just as, it was thought, the babe had breathed its last. The mother wept aloud ; and once more the little creature opened its eyes, looked lovingly into its mother's face—smiled and moved its little lips. They bent down closer. "God will lake care of baby." Sweet, consoling word?!—they had hardly ceased when the angel spirit was in Heaven. An Inzprew.lwe Fact. A vessel was overtaken with a terrific hurricane in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. After the most astonishing efforts to weather the storm, the akullutelligenoe of the Captain broke on the ears of the passengers : "The ship is of her beam ends; she will never right again; death is certain." "Not at all, air I not at all, sir," ex olaimed a little sailor boy. "God will save us yet." 4 , Why do you think so ?" said the Cap tain, with strong feeling and astooish men t. "Because, sir, at this moment they , aril praying under the Bethel flag, in the city of Glasgow, for all sailors in distress, and us among the rest ; and God will hear their prayers ; now see if he don's I" The Captain, an old weather-beaten tar, exclaimed, with tears running down his cheeks, "God grant that their prayers may be heard in our behalf, my little preacher 1" At that moment a great wave struck the ship and righted her. A sinailtaneons shout of exultation, gratitude and'praise, louder than the4torni, 'went up 'to God.— A few de,* after, tbe.noble ship rode Ade: ly into /New Iforitilarbor: Softie:of, in Wide ape, pleases all; the more lye you put ha it - the better. GETTYSBURG, PA., FRIDAY EVENING, FEBRUARY 18, 1853. Anecdote of Mr. Webster Just before Mr. Webster died, and after his recovery was despaired of, one of his physicians approached his bedside and ask ed how be found himself. "I feel like the Jackdaw in the Church Steeple," was :he strange reply. The physician withdrew, sadly, from the bedside !,o another part of the room, where some members of the fa mily were standing together, and, shaking his head, confessed hie apprehensions that the brain of the dying statesman was affect ed, that the stately oak was perishing at the top. He could see no method in the answer which his question. received. One of the ladies present, who knew Mr. Web s , , ster better, did not believe his mind was wandering, and quietly stepping to the bedside, asked him what he meant by say ing he felt like the jackdaw in the church steeple. "Why, Cowper; don't you re member ?" was the reply. She did re member Cowper's delightful translation 4 of one of Vincent Bourne little poems, en titled "The Jackdaw." The following are the verses, from which the reader will per ceive the perfect fitness and point of the reply : The Jackdaw. There is a bird who, by his cost, And by the hoarseness of his note, Might be supposed a crow— A great frequenter of the church, Where, bishop like, ho finds a perch, And dormitory too. Ahoy. the steeple shines a plate, That turns and turn*, to indicate From what puint blJois the weather; Look up—your brains begin to swim, 'Tie in the clouthi—that pleases him, He chooses it the rather. Fond of the speculative height, Thither lie wings his airy flight, And thence securely sees The bustle and the razee show, That occupy mankind below, Secure and at his ease. You think, no doubt, he sits and muses On future broken bones and bruises 11 he Nhould chance to fall. No! not a single though; like that Employs his philosophic pate, Or troubles it at all. He sees that this great round-a-bout, The world, with all it. motley rout, Church, army, phy,ie, law, Ira custom and its buttinesa. I. no concern at all of his, And says—what says he?—"caw !'• Thrice happy bird ! I too have seen Much of the •anitica of men ; And sick ul having seen 'em. Would cheerfully thew, limbs resign For such a pair of wings as thine, And such. head between 'em. A Strong Temperance Speech. We find in an eastern paper the follow ing arguments in favor of Temperance, by 31r. Edward Bait's, of England, who is, we believe, the member of parliament for Leeds. The following is an extract from his speech : "The peculiar danger of intoxicating drinks is in their extreme seductiveness, and in the almost unconquerable strength of the drinking habit when once formed; and their peculiar malignity is in their be ing the parent or nurse of every kind of crime, wickedness and suffering. "I say boldly that no man living who uses intoxicating drinks, is free from tile danger of at least occasional, and if of oc casional, ultimately of habitual excess. I have known such frightful instances of persons brought into captivity to the habit, that there seems to be no character, posi tion or circumstances that free men from the danger. I have known many young men of the finest promise led by the drink ing habit into vice, runt, and early death. I have known such to become virtual bar ricades. I have known many tradesmen whom it has made bankrupt. I have known Sunday-school scholars whom it I has led to prison. I have known teachers, I and even superintendents, whom it has dragged down to profligacy. 1 have known ministers of religion, in and out of the tablisliment, of high academic honors, of splendid eloquence, nay, of vast usefulness, whom it has fascinated and hurried over the precipice of public infamy, with their eyes open and gazing with horror on their fate. I have known men of the strongest and clearest intellect, and of vigorous reso lution, whom it has made weaker than children or fools. I have known gentle men of refinement and taste, whom it has debased into brutes. I have knoiril poets of high genius whom it has bound in bond age worse than the galleys, and ultimately. out short their days. 1 have known states men, lawyers and judges whom it has killed. I have known kind husbands and fathers whom it has made wester , . I have known honest men whom it has made villains. I have known elegant and . tian ladies whom it has converted into bloated sots. "Is it not notorious that under the ra vages of drunkenness the land mourns ? That it is this whioh—l mat almost say ezolusivelpAills our prisons, our work houses, our • lunatic asylums,. our dens of pollution, and our hospitals; which causes most of the shipwrecks, firm, fatal goal dents, crimes, outrages and suicides that load the columns of our newspapms; which robs num4rless wives of a lirit Tl Kirsi4. ti t e t "4 IPunberlioil children Pareo'll f°01"all, which of ovary cowfOrt, deprives soommor thou sandsof children of 'addition, .and atinoat of bread, and turns them on `rho sweeter; “FEARLEOB Aliftl, 'ARE.” fi'tl which leaves many places of worship al most empty, and so many Mechanics' In stitutes languishing, whilst the pot-houses are crowded; which brings dawn—it is es timated—sixty thousand of our population every year to a drunkard's grave? "And of all the victims of intemper ance, be it remembered, there is not one who did not begin by moderate drinking, or who had the remotest idea when he be gan that he should be led into excess." Beaullllll Curt orn. In Sweden the first sheaf of the harvest is preserved unthreehed, and on Christmas eve it is elevated upon a pole in the fields, for the winter birds to feast upon. The farmer who should neglect to provide the Yulo-sheaf, on Christmas eve, would con fidently expect s bad harvest on the suc ceeding year; while his neighbors would consider him a bad man, and refuse to as sist him if ho should fall into trouble.— This certainly is'not a bad superstition. Blatrlntony In Utah No man in Utah, who already has a wile, and who may desire to have another, has any right to make any propositions of marriage to a lady until he has consulted the President over the whole church, and through him obtains a revelation from God as to whether it would be pleasing in his sight. like is forbidden by revelation, that ends the matter ; if by revelation the pri vilege is granted, he still has no right to consult the feelingsokfte—ymnig lady until he has obtained the approbation of her pa rents, provided they are living in Utah : if their consent cannot he obtained, this also ends the matter. 48. it if the parents or guardians freely give their consent, the 3 he may make propositions of marriage LII the young holy. Untie refuses these pro. positious, this also ends the in/liter ; but if she accept. a day is generally set apart by the parties for the marriage ceremonies to be celebrated. It Is necessary to sate that before any map takes the least step towards getting another witerwis 4119 duly to consult the feelings of the wife which he I already has, and obtain her eimsent, as re corded in the 24th paragraph of the revela (ion, published in the first number of •'the: Seer." "When the day set apart for the solemn ization of the marriage ceremony has ar• rived, the bridegroom and his wile, and al so the bride, together with their relatives, and such other guests as may he invited, asseintde at the place which they have ap• painted. The scribe then proceeds to take the names. ages. native towns, cmmies, States, and ounwtrilkii*olf the'psrties to be married, which ho carefully enters on rec• ord. The president, who is the prophet. seer, and revelator over die whole clnirrli throughout die world, and who alone holds the keys of authority in this solemn tirdi• fiance, as recorded in the second nod filth paragraphs of die revelation on marriage, rails upon the bridegroom and tits wife mid the bride to arise, which they do, (routine the president. The wife stands on the left hand of lier husband, while dot bride stands on her left. The president then puts this to the wife : "Are you wit• ling to give this woman to your !matt:tot' to be his lawful and wedded wife for lime and for all eternity ? If vim are you will manifest it by placing her right hand with. in the right hand of your husbanil;' The right hands of the bridegroom and bride being thus joined, the wife takes her hus band by the left arm as if in the anitode of walking. The president then proceeds to ask the following ques t ion of the man "I)o you, brother, (velliog hint by name.) take sister.(ealling the oride by tier name,) thy the right hand to receive her nitro your self to be your lawful and wedded wife, and you to be her lawful, and wedded hus band for time and for all eternity, with a covenant and promise, on your part, that you will fulfil all the laws, rites, and ordi nances pertaining to this holy matrimony. 111 the new anti everlastii.g covenant.doing this ui the presence of God, angels, and thes e witnesses, of voitr own Free will and choice ?" The bridegroom nosier., "Yea." The president then puts inc guys• lion to the bride: -Do you, sister, (call ing her by name.) take brother (calling 111111 by name.) by the right hand, and give ourself to him, to he his la wlid and wedded wife, fur time and for all eternity. with a Covenant anti prooolari on your part that you will fulfil all the laws, rites anti or dinances pertaining to this holy matrimony, iii the lie w and everlasting covenant, doing.: this in the presence of God, angels. and these witnesses, of your own tree will and choice I" The brille answers, Yes."— The president says : "111 11110 name of the Lord Jesus Christ, and by the authority of the holy priesthood, 1 pronounce;, you legally and lawfully husband and wife fur the '(me and for till eternity ; and I seal upon you the blesshigs of the holy resin recline with power to collie forth in the: morning of the first resurrection, clothed with glory, immortality. and eternal lives ; and Useal upon you the blessings of thrones. and dominions, and principalities, and powers: and exaltations. together with the blessings of Abraham. lasso. and Jacob. and say !situ, you be fruitful, and multiply. land replenish the earth, that ynti may have joy and rejoicing in your posterity in the day of the Lord Jesus. All these bles sings, together with all other blessings pertaining to the new and everlasting cove ! ultra. I seal upon your heads, through your faithfulness unto die end. by thii au thority of. the holy priesthood, in the owns of . the father. and , of the Bon, and pf the Holy Ghost, Anton." '[he. . s cribe then enters on the tensors! record' the date Ind Noce °Niro or three Isiusesses who wow+ present." Epitaphs. Read ` Oa 4041 0f.4 0 04 Waisteit swot this wiitt Yitit pa. For why I Newo4hi'Pttiwil wir Hallelwisist Mika*. I ° Here lii'Phenioa : ulfiie Ile: AlWnier *Thettpia, Wit& Wit It Hs pis 4641triN mama s *ma JUNI was slow Watsrioo." The Wall of a Sorrowing *other. The annexed poem relates to a distressing event which is still fresh in the recollection of the public. It is the production, if we we misuke not, (says the Home Joirnal) of an author whose name is honored wh American literature is known : He was my only boy ! • A gem within the casket of my heart, Priceless and precious as is the gush of joy That from its fountains start. How has the silken cord Of my unspoken love hewn round him thrown. Binding to pure affection ey'ry word And smile his lip bath known. Day after day hie foot, Fleet with the blitheness of unfettentid youth. Came to my ear, soft a• the tuneful lulu, Or spice wind from the South. But, oh. he comes not now ! Hie joyous step And merry laughing eye, And the pure radiance of his sunny brow, Were things of earth, to die. Death, to the gentle child, [blend Caine not with whispered accenta, such as Sometimes with angel forms, wham faces mild, Above the deeth•couch bend The living wreath of Fame, Twined by I nation for hie sire to wear, Withers to dust,—and Ulory's proud acclaim But sharpens my despair. The glare of earthly pomp Fades like a meteor in sr starlit eky And the loud peal of Honor's clarion trump, Is passed unheeded by. The loftiest seat of earth shrink• as a shrivelled smell before , the fire That desolates my humble homestead heurth ith anguish deep and dire. Give me thy help. oh God ! In Ode my hour of grief •nA fearful woe ; Teach me to bow beneath thy chaat'iling rod. And stay the tear. that flow. For hie dear sake. whose heart fe gaabed and bleeding by the bitter stroke, Help we to cheer his childless path, nor part The ray horn the oak. I know my bright.eyell bey Is liestlitig in the lovely utvinur's breast ; I low Igioi join the swelling song of joy, lb that sweet world of rest. Theo cease, my heart, thy Hero be thy anchor 'ruin ihe storm of grief, Let His 11:/failang promise► prevail, Alail prayer be any reliel The late Master Bead. Pierce. The Cmicord Congregational Journal publishes the following interesting rnernrn to 4.1 thu late Master 13eujruniu Pierce: The bright and manly little fellow, whose death has awakened such limp and- uni versal sy 'apathy for the desolate parenia, was worthy of all the affection with which they cherished him. and of all the hopes they entertained of Irvin. A mere child as lie was, of only eleven yemak fie possess ed a mind of such rare sobriety, that it could not be dazzlertby thejfrillititif aymi ofieninebefirre him. hied triVliteb, 8e WAt natural, others around hint were making allusion. It being remarked to him, a few weeks ago, by a gentleman quite intimate with him, that he supposed he must he highly pleased and elated with the prime. peat of leaving dull Concord, and living in the great city of Washington and the ' White ilouse, lie replied that he had an wish to go. and only hoped lila (slier' would put lion 011 a farm and leave lout there, as that would he hir more namea ble. Another asked Min, at a different: time, what le - Messina or business he in-i tended to follow. lie said he meant to i he a farmer. "But,' - molted the gentle man, ”how will you buy a farm f" -•1 will work out, " was the reply. "and earn mo ney enough." “I'erlia pa," said the gen "your father will give you money /motto to buy it." ••No," was the stain reply. will work out end earn it ; Inv father has no Inure money than Int l wants ; and it be gives meaty I will give it to hie nossioneries." lit- had received kind, continuants instructions front his ear lieat years, which scent to have made an impression on his teruler mind, and to have created hi him, thus early, an inter est in the cause of Christian benevolence. Indeed. he was olten seen at the monthly concert no company wtilt lila parents. lie was also a member of the Sabbath seined. We are told Mat when their pastor attempt ed to minister the eon:Mifflin's of the pel to the licart-hrokeii and overadielitied parents, soon alter tile hial iiecurrelice.l tilt; only reply 01 the dither Won. ni 010 I.lllgllage sitiither,—"Cloilds and dark- I nese round about him ; justice and judg• ['mot are the habitation of hula throne."— Such a belief in Cicero universal govern ment can alone sustain the heart under a stroke like this. May it be able to sus tain them. CRUCIFIXION.—The Hebrews derived this punishment from the Romans. The upright beam was let into the ground, and the criminal being raised up. was fastened to the transverse piece by nails driven through his hands—sometimes through his feet also—and often the feet were crossed, and one nail driven through both. The feet were sometimes hound to the cross by cords. A small tablet, declaring the crime, was placed on the top of the cross. 'file victim died under the must frightful suffer ings, so great that, even amid the raging' passions of war. pity was excited. The wounds were nut in themselves fatal. A raging fever soon sets in. and the victim complains of throbhiug headache, intense thirst and pain. When mortification en sues, as is sometimes the case, the suffer. er rapidly sinks. lie is no Juntas sensi ble of pain, but his anxiety and sense of prostration are excessive. hiccup super venes. hie skin is moistened with a cold. clammy .sweat, and death ensues. The duration •of life *older these agonies, 'varies with the constitution of the sufferer, and the Mate ofihe weather. Death was has tened •by the heat of: the inn. and: the ex posure ,to,the cold night air. but it did ant ordinarily ensue until lie halt hung fink thirty-six liono; or. more.-- 6 01. F. Obrerv. John Stirling. writing of modern &imp. hit she folloriin graphic here . : NThe Orgonni Isluiet Ind imber.l4. Orit meld 11644 limey the'llemil ginirsl tiotekelii their breathy' aisd *lOl. HOMOreble4 pat.° Alansys take the pat atm" absent Or. son who is censured* company, so far as truth - and propriety will allow. Washing Sheep., We take it that this is a pretty good to tal abstinence story—if any one has seen it before let him read it and liugh at it a• gain : A year or two since when the subject of temperance was being freely discussed the citizens of a little town in the Western part of Massachusetts, called a mee:ing to talk over the matter. There lied never been a tem peratuqt society in the piece. but after some little discussion, it was voted to form one. They drew tip a pledge of total abstinence, and agreed that it any member of the Society broke it, he should be turned out. Before the pledge Was accepted. Deacon D. arose and said he had one ohjerlinn to it ; he thought that Thanksgiving Day ought to be free for the members to take something. as he could relish his dinner much better at this festivsl if he took aglass of wine. Mr. L. thought that the pledge was not perfect. He didn't care env thing about Thanksgiving, but his family always made a great account of Christmas, and he couldn't think of sitting down to dinner then without something to drink. He was willing to give it up on all other days.. and in fact, that was the only lime when he oared anything about it. Mr. B. next arose, and said he agreed with ithe other speakers, except the time. He didn't think much of Thanksgiving or Christmas, though he liked a any time. There was one (lay, however. when he must have it, and that WI'S the Fourth of July. He always calculated on having a "regular drink" on that occasion, and he wouldn't sign the pledge it it firibented hen from relehra ling independence. Squire `., en old firmer, followed Mr. 13. He wits 1101 in the habit of taking ant•- thtng often hut must have some when he washed sheep. Ile uouldsign the pledge if it wooid give him this privilege of imhi• ping when he washed sheep: Why, he considered it dangerous for him to keep his hands in (mid water without something to keep loin m arm inside. After sonie consideration it was conclu ded that each nu tuber of the Soioely should lake hie own cari.shion to drink—Deacon D. on Thanksgiving. Mr. L. on Christmas, &c. The pledge was logoo,l by a large num' her, and the Society adjourned condition, tiller voting that it should lie the duty of the members to watch each other to see that they did not break the pledge. The next morning Deacon D. walked into his next neighbor's yard—who, by the way, was Mr. L., the sheep man—wonder ing its It was a hitter colt morning. wheth er 1,. wits up yet. Ile met his neighbor amiii nit of the house, and to his unit. di tit . 61'16 *tithe mrill• ern phrase, ••burning a very beautiful kiln.• by T. !" Pxelaimed the setnnishetl Deaeon, ..what.lnee this menu, mir here broken your pledge, mud oli.gra..etl our Soelely and the tenfperanne valise." • "Noi—hie—ne you know nit—hie— Deaeou," maul L. I haven't—hie—bro en !he—hie—fledge. Dintes.n." ••Certautly yon hive. sir. and I shall m oon you In the S.•ctety. Y.. 0 agreed not to drink °krill% when you washed sheep. Von r:,titiot woke we !hilt': that you are going to 14011 sheep such a cold day as this." “F—fol.low me—lsie—Denron.” L. started for the ham, and she Deleon followed. Oli entering the door. the Dea con saw alarge wash-tish standing in the floor with ass old run tied the poor animal shaking dreadfully with the cold, and rdesticg “Hid--thertt. D•tl.tlenenn.” amid L.. pointing to the sharp, with an it of tri• um ph. old--iiii,—r;ani has helm wa4hoti a-aix times tit is—h in—morning. and I—luc—ain't done with yet.• It is hardly necessary• to say that the Deacoa vanished. The following; amusing circumstance is said to have oecurred at N fancy ball giveu in Washington city recently. By the way, limey balls are •all the go" there now. It was utiderstnial that every per sun WNK to dress la character, and an usher was ..tatmeicil at Ulu dour ul the saloon. to alisimillee to the company within. the tiff 'Orem characters as iliev entered. Two young lathed at the entrance : ..Your characters V' asked the halter,in a vvinaper.. ••%Vedo not appear in volume to-night." said the "Two ladies without any characlers." bawled out the usher, at the top of hie VOICO. SNoKIL TURNED INTO FURL..—. 4 late number of the ••Scientific American" states that the smoke in the factories in large ci ties in England and Scotland is now eon sullied, it having been made ;t penal offence by act of Parliament far any factory to al low its smoke to escape. The smoke is all burned by simple contrivances of fur naces. A committee of government first established that the burning of smoke was perfectly practicable; Aid Parliament then enforced the fact by law. The factory and mill owners soon found out how to fulfil the condition' of this law. and the result is, that they save a great . deal of fu el Ey the operation. Old bachelors mid happily ramjed men take very different views of the married state. For centuple, the old bachelor. thus describes the condition as he coder. stands it : "Noisy clack and constant brawling, Discard and domestic strife Entity cupooard, children brawling, etc/riding woman made s wile I * * The man. really blesses' with a "betters hair' thus delieribes the condition • Lovely looks and constant ,courting, avrteteolog all , the toil of life . ; Chnerlutchildniii, harnilim *Pottbit Lovely warners nosdiii'vlik. A:tikhr war eaceinlyaohl 'Art *notion lu Franklin Bursa Obureb, piston, 'and war bid - oft by « women at ave hundred 'and forty donors. Thin woman bu. for m*ny years. been known la so apple.iellar op 404 Wharf. #IIVO DOLLARS PER ANNVSL INUMBER 49. Enormous tleld °Morn. The following is the statement of Mr. Gen. Walker, of Suerniehanna county. woo took a premium 4990 at the minuet meeting of the Agricultural Society, lust week. for the Itarge?‘t crop of corp. being 169 bushelikof shelled corn to the amt. We believe this litur never been equalled in the Upheld States. There were several other competitors. but 96 . bushels to the acre. rallied by John H. Bitaer. ef„ Lancaster county, was , the next highest. antl 93. by John A M'Rhea, of. White Marsh. Mont gomery county, was the neat. . • , @MORON WALXICIVII JdfIDE Of OULTIVAIION. . lie ploughed five *eras of green award for corn, the beginning of May, and hauled ono-hundred loads of manure CM the same. Aker the manure wit spread; v:te ground was well harrowed, wad planted the brat'of Mae. in rows 3} feet apart, running north and south. and If feet Apitt.yth , theriftwa. running test end westl frunilltree to hen Brains in:a hill.. TWo..gehelior anted with three buslielirof plasfei. wee applied to said five acres very soon-after it came cps A plow. did Indenter 11 . 11 , fielti alter the corn was planted. The ground was kept loom and mellow; and the graas and weeds etihdued by the use of ihe col tivanir, making hut little use , tif the hand hoe. A specimen of the corn at the State fair. at Lattinaeter:in Ornotier. being nt the white flint apetties, eighcroWcd. small rob end long att. more than titsultiot in length. • - • In addition to the enormous yield of one hundred eud sixty bnahels tii-fita acre of shelled corn, thesame fiettlecoittainitiglise acres, produced - twenty Wins of t apitrior pumpkin., some of which weighed Mom Man 41 pounds. Said field is situstethm ,, one of the highest hills in Susquehanna county. being an Oak, ,Pine,. Basch •. and Sugar Maple ridge—Soil..a sandy loam. GEORGE WALKER. October 20, 1852 This statement ii.aerinmpanied With the cit.:llia:ore of Hon. Wm. JetiO/9 ) v 4 V111. H. 01111 C, RIIII A. Citainherleitt. certiliying' that they measured the held, emintall t h e rows and the hills of *melt rota mid bulked twen ty sit hdb : being a lair average- ni the IA bide - field, and that this made a yield e qual to 100 bushels of-altelletooris to the F9FFECIII or tiamloacia oN tux Amino- ATOMIC OF Tio Lim Hut I bills upon our fields rnuskeither be earrii,til lower by . natural or attal drainagm-or. having thoroughly saturated the soil ,ou c which it falls, be left neon the Surface to be -earned off by evaporatioth Now every gallon of water thus roirrietroff by r. Ireporation requires/ as mueh heat as Would ! raise five and a half gallons from the 11•42- tug. dito,: 111 bMililtg- V{'ithn iii to exttione cases the reitty Offeets 'ef . the • heat time lost upon- vegetation - cannot fail to be eriking; and I have ftvgitently finuid the soil of a field well Araieed, higher in temperature from 10 le 15 degrees, thaii that of another field which had net been drained, though in every other respeet the soils were similar. I have observed, the , , effects of this en the growing crop : I have seen only one it touch inferior crop on the under-drained herd, tuft that eittp harvested fully three weeks litter the other, and liwieg to this circuanstanee and the setting in of unsettled weather, I have apes!' that crop deteriorated hilly tee per cent. in value.—Jetinial Royal tigricultural elev. - , flow to Improve Poor Soil. There iii a way within the reach even of e poor man. It be will be contain 'to till but little ground, he may have it norieli ed alinoat at find coat, by inheriting the rei- , lowing particulars : I Waste nothing. If you have merely. a ticli of soap suds. throw it upon your heap. So of rotten chips, the hair carded froux your horse and sow. the liquids removed every morning by lice (win k drimbiri. lIIPPI. your woolen rags, written, lime or. clay that may be at hand. Pet also the oyster-shells that are thrown ai refuse by 1 some neighbor. burn and powder them. bud add this to the MIIIIIIIIII stock. attic iii. tem, any hay you may, have .that is wonliless as fodder. Pursue this Aounte in the strictest manner, and your land will constantly be improved, Nor should„yon forget tiPset all hands, old and yotingt:wow and female. as far as convenient. tit pluck up by the roots the steads that infest yiiiir grounds, taking care. that the seeiii tlo not ripen, acid throw these upon -,pile. A small armful per day will amount to mush in, a season, and may produce yearly its own weight of grass, or straw, yr stalk, and you.rid ofyourself a pest at the saw! . time, If your land is elay, surely .you can mix sand in your dung heap. and 41dia• do much good, and all this coat a meta. tri, Ile. __ Haul up to your yard a few losda of * beat or muck, from some swamp; sir if *hie is beyond your reach, col/seta queatil of leaves from the (Meat or elsewhere, mlO throw these 'vim a pile,,and if you pot atttl charcoal dust from the kilo of:wipe, ,, neighbor, you will be the igttiner, Doing thete thins, or as many of . tiem go you can, other suggestions will . . occur so You* the result of circumstance* which; be. equally important. . , , The 'Penneylreton Inquirer slays, this MOM Maywood of Pfidniklptint, who lis*. been• dancing at Floreom, Slaty, created such afurore that on the oreseton 'her benefit, it took three earriages to parry, bir the boqueis, thrown on dui stop her, -6 " One ,aecount Nays many. `of the Esocfeete• heeudfully done up iu tibbo9r, were let large an floor borrete. • -. • • " 1 91r,0,11,, my. Intr. I barn sold Col o ," .i'lleat's kind of you. now, Charlos,*f the wire, 'dm ..ttikuured. dogu the dirty.. nasty br ute . ; you ougiii _.4t Niro douo it lang ag o. "Yes. love ; gOlgriY 414.150i-r".`4. a 8094 IPttle.*ll in pupa—Ste. at Silt 411. lan" swim," • Coid lands near Wheeling Va., 'lo' ling at 41,400 an sere. If you wish to cblieest inirithetol.lart,'", l pretty girls in lowa. Yining IC a."
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers