BY D. A. BUEHLER. VOLUME XXVII.. A BACHELORS BUTTON. A celebrated wit once said he had found nut a patent "slip button," eo that when a bore laid hold of him, and was detaining lint with a lonistery, he had only to slip the button, leaving it in the bore's fingers, and made-hit escape. The contrivance was an ingenius and valuable one, and had the inventor, as he threatened, taken out a patent, many would doubtless have adopt ed the useful article. There are occasions, however, when a slip button is more necessary than even in the case above referred to ; and in Metre tion of my meaning, allow me to recite the following adventure : Some years ago, when I was a single man, and dreaming (as -tingle men do) of double bliss some day destined to arrive, I went to a concert at the Town Hall Music is, poetically and proverbially, "the food of love," and in my sentimental state I consumed a good deal of the tender pas sion in hand, whenever I taw an eligible opportunity of investing it. Well, to re turn. to the concert ; it was crowded to excess, and the rush, on leaving, to reach flys and carriages, was very great. I wore on that memorable night, it blue coat with brass-buttons, and I flattered myself that there were worse looking men in the room. I tell you candidly, I admired myself, and next to myself, the other party I was meet struck with, was a floe girl, with dark eyes and black hair, who sat with some frieude sk few fume distant. I hoped she noticed me and my blue coat, with brass buttons. 1 looked at her often enough to attract her attention to both ;and beingaa my friends would say, in rather a spooney state, work ed myself into a towering passion— of love. But, bow was Ito come at the object of my admiration, for I was as diffident as devoted—"as eby as I was vain," as at over candid friend once said. 4 .11nd save the Queen," which condo ded the concert, surprised me, as unpre pared as on my first glance to "improve the occasion," and the company were alinaiing out, while I stood mutely piing after the object of my love -at first eight. She and her party eddied a while by the inner door of the concert room, and were then drawn out into the retiring current. and lost to sight. followed quickly after, lest I should lose forever all opportunity of identifying my idol ; but alai, the lights in the outer corridor were so few and far between, that "on glimpse of my star could I got." I pushed and elbowed fiercely through the crowd, with , a view of getting to the outer door before my fair one's party had omer• god, and thus gaining once more a sight of my meeting. "Hang it 1" I muttered, impatiently, as I felt a tug at my coat skirt, and was in stantly conscious of one of my hind but tons having hitched to some lady's dress. My progress was suddenly arrosted.— "Hew provoking," thought I, as I was brought to a stand, for I could not push on without losing a button or tearing a dross t "bow provoking the modern fash ions ; a lady now has as many loops, as many tentacles about her.apparel as a sea anemone." It was with some irritation I stOoppod to undo the button, but my hurry made the task more difficult, and inetend of undoing, I only bungled and more twis ted the loop around the button. "Please to let mo try," said the lady herself, as I bungled over the bushiest; ; she unloved her hand—it was a sweet white hand ; so I looked at her lace.— Stars and gaiters 1 but it wu the very fair ono, black hair and dark eyes, I was in pursuit of. As she stooped over the en tangled button, a slight flush tinted her cheek.. Oh, it was delicious. I hoped she never would undo the loop ; and, in deed she could not, for her fingers were twitching nervously, and my heart was beating audibly. I tried to help her ; our fingers met— " Please make way there," shouted some gruff voice behind. ilre were blocking up the passage; was there ever such an unlucky spot for so lucky an entanglement? "You hinder the people from going out. Annie," exclaimed one of her companions with soma asperity; "plague upon the tire some loop, break it ;" and, suiting the act- , Lion to the word, the speaker leaned for. I ward, caught the sleeve of her beautiful friend's dress in one hand, and my coat- I tail in the other, and giving a quick and decided tug, severed us. The crowd be hind bore on ' and we were separated; not, however, before I gave my "star" a look , which I intended to speak volumes. I thought she did not seem uneenscioes of my 'meaning—our eyes met, I know, and this was the only consolation left me, for I immediately a ft erwards I lost her and her party, to view in the darkness outside. a Cruel fate I That night I hardly olosed my eyes, thinking of my "bright particu lar star," and what means I should em ploy to find her out. I koow little of the town, which was a large one, and to ex peet to learn the name of my fair one by a mere description, was hopeless; theft doubtless must be a great many with dark .eyes and black hair within the "bills of 'mortality,' there, as elsewhere. After r:breakfast next'day, I sallied forth from my' hotel, and walked the town in hope -of seeing her, but no trace of the lovely one could I find, though I started off in ... pursuit of many a "similar figure" in the :tarots only to discover on my overtaking euh object of my pursuit, that she was not the one I longed to see. My love fit grew more and more violent in the course of the day'; but tired out at length with my search, I returned to the hotel, and took out my dress coot from my portmanteau to feed my flame even with the contemplation of the inanimate button that had detained the , black-eyed divinity' so long. It was with no little delight I now discovered what did not before catch my eye ; a fragment of the silk !bop of her dress still adhered to the button, twis ted round the shank. I pressed it to my lips; it was lilac in color-and stooped to 011/180 tangle it from the bit dime as gent- ly as though it were a tress of my loved one's hair, when something clinked in the skirt pocket. I supposed I had left some money there, for in my perturbation and excitement I omitted to search the coat on taking it off the night before. I thrust my hand into the pocket. Gracious me I What did I behold, what did I take out— a gold chain bracelet I You could have "brained me with my lady's fan." I saw at a glance how mat ters stood—in the excitement and flurry - of undoing the loop from my button, the lady had undone the clasp of her own bracelet, 'which had not unnaturally fell into the coat skirt with which she was en gaged, and, doubtless, on missing it, in stead of regarding me in • romantic light, she put it down that I was one of the swell mob, and had purposely entangled myself in her dress to rob her of her jewelry. Here was an antic heroin position to find oneself in I When I wished to be con sidered the most devoted of knights, to be remembered only as the most expert of pickpockets I Was ever an honest lover in such a plight ; and to make it worse, I could n ot r nee how I was to escape from this inevitable dilemma. I must go down to the grave, remembered only in that dear one's mind as the nefarious purloiner of her bracelet. To find her out was imposi - hie ; bus a bright idea struck me, as my eye lighted on a newspaper, lying on the coffee-room table. I rang the bell, and inquired of the waiter when the loosl pa per was published. "To-morrow, sir," he' answered. I sat down and wrote an ad vertisement ; it was in the following words: "If the lady, - Whose dress got entangled in a gentleman's coat bottom, in leaving the con cert last Wednesday, will call at or send to the Arch's Head Hotel, she will hear of some thing to her advantage." There, I thought, as I gave the adver• tisament to the waiter, and five shillings to pay for its insertion in the Sentinel—there, if that will not give me a clue to escape from a very unpleasant dilemma, and at the same time to know who my enchanter is, the fetes must indeed be very unpropi• pious. My plane being thus so far adopted I ordered dinner, and waited patiently, or rather impatiently, the appearance of the newspaper next Morning. It was brought up to my room damp from the press, and then I read in all the glory of large type, my interesting announcement. But, my mars I with what an advertisement was it followed, in the very same coluinn. I on ly-.wonder my hair did not stand on end, as I read as follows : ".f.2 REWA nn." "Lost, or stolen, on the night of the concert at the Town Hall, a Gold Chain Bracelet. It is thought to have been taken from the lady's arm by a pickpocket, of gentlemanly appear ance, who wore a blue coat with brass buttons, and kept near the lady on her leaving the hall. "Any one giving such infotmation as will lead to the recovery of the bracelet, or the cap ture of the thief, (if it was stolen,) will receive the above reward, on applying to 7 Cambridge Parade." Here was a pretty plight—to be adver tised in the publio papers as a pickpocket, when my only crime was like Othello's, that of "Loving not wisely, but too well." My determination, however, was quick ly adopted. I went up stairs, pot on the very identical delinquent blue coat, so accurately described, and, taking the paper , in my band, proceeded to "7 Cambridge Parade." I knocked at the door, and asked the servant, who inswered„the name of the family. Having heard it, I said—"ls Miss A. in r "Yes, sir," replied the servant woman "who shall I say wants her 7" "Tell her," I replied, "that the pick pocket with a gentlemanly address, and blue coat with brass buttons, who stole ber bracelet, is hero and wishes to return it to her." The woman stared at me u though were maci, but on repeating my request to her, she Arleta aniltalivered my message. Soon there came out, not my fair one, With all that's beat of dark and bright, Meeting in aspect and in eyes, but a stalwart brother. "That," I said, handing him the brace. let, "is Miss A.'s property ; and though,as you perceive, I wear a blue coat, with brass buttons, and am flattered to think my manners are not ungentlemanly, r am bound in candor to say lam not a pick pocket." "Then, sir, you shall have the reward," I said the brother, taking out hicpurse. "No," I replied, "for strange as it may appear, though I am no pickpocket, I stole tho lady's bracelet." . The man looked , puzzled; but when I told the truth and pointed to my advertise ment in the same paper, as a proof I did not want to walk off with the property, he laughed heartily at the whole story, and not the least, at his sulkies description of the gentlemanly 'piekpooket. "Woll e "t he said, "you had better walk in and , hav'e tea with us, and my sister will be able to say whether she eau speak to yourideutity, after which it will be time enough to canvass propriety of sending for a constable." You may be sure I accepted his invi. tation. Need Igo further with the story I The young lady (to use the words of the advertisement) captured the pickpocket herself, and.received the reward, ench're ward being the said pickpocket. The bachelor's button no longer adorns my blue coat, and I now have framed and glazed over the fire-place, the advertise ment, in which I am publicly described by my own wife as "a pickpocket, with gen- tlemanly address." When I charge her with libel, she always does what she has this moment done, pay damages for the slander in an amount of kisses, declaring, though not a pickpocket. I was a thief, and stole her heart and pocketed her bracelet. So ends the story of "Us Baolinoies Burros." GETTYSBURG, PA., FRIDAY EVENING, DECEMBER 19, 1856. [Prom Dickau' Household Wordt. THE ANGEL'S STORY. Through the blue and frosty heavens, Christmas stars were shining bright; The glistening lamps of the great City, Almost matched their gleaming light; And the winter snow was lying, And the winterivrWe were sighing, Long ago on; Christmas night. While from every tower and steeple, • Pealing bells were sounding clear,) (Never with each tbnes of gladness, Save when Christmas time is near,) Many a one that night was merry, Who had toiled through all the year. That night saw old wrongs forgiven, Friends long parted reconcile ; Voices, all unused to laughter, Eyes, that had forgot to smile, Anxious hearts that feared the morrow, Freed from all their cares awhile. Rich and poor felt the Name blessing From the gracious season fall ; Joy and plenty in the cottage, Peace and feasting in the hall; And the, voices of the children Ringing dear above it all I Yet one house was dim and darkened; Gloom, and sickness, and despair Abiding in the gilded chamber, Climbing up the marble stair, Stilling even the voice of mournitig— For a childing lay dying there. Silken curtains fell around him, Velvet carpets hushed the tread, Many costly toys were lying, All unheeded by his bed, And his tangled golden ringlets Were on downy pillows spread. All the skill of the great city, To save that little life was vain ; That little thread from being broken ; That fatal word from being spoken; Nay his very mother's pain, And the mighty love within her, Could not give him health again. And she knelt there still beside him', She alone with strength to smile, And to promise he should suffer No, more in a little while, And with murmur'd song and story The long weary hours beguile. Suddenly an itheeeit Presence Checked these constant mourning cries, Stilled the little heart's quick fluttering, Raised the blue and wondering eyes, Fixed on some mysterious vision, With a startled sweet surprise. For a radiant angel hovered Smiling o'er the little bed ; White his raiment, from his shouldirs Snowy dovelike pinions spread, And a starlike light was shining In a glory round his bead. While, with tender lave, the angel, Leaning o'er the little nest, In his arms the sick child folding, Laid him gently on his breast, Sobs and wailing. from the mother, And her darling was at rest. So the angel, slowly rising, Spread his wings; and, through the air Bore the pretty child, and held him On his heart with loving care, A red branch of blooming roses, Pining softly by him there. While the child, thus clinging, floated Toward the mansions of the blest, Gazing from his shining guardian To the flowers upon:his breast, Thus the angel spoke, still smiling On the little heavenly guest : °Know, oh little one I that heaien Does no earthly thing disdain, Man's poor joys find there an echo Just as surely as his pain ; Love, on earth so feebly striving, Lives divine in heaven again. "Once in yonder town below ns, In a poor and narrow street, Dwelt a little sickly orphan, Gentle aid, or pity sweet, 'Never in life's rugged pkthway Guided his poor tottering feet. "All the striving anxionf.forethought That should only come with age, Weighed upon his baby spirit, - Showed him soon life's sternest page; Grim Want was his nurse, and Sorrow Was his only heritage 1 "All too weak for childish pastimes Drearily the hours spend On his hands so small and trembling Leaning his poor aching head, Or, through dark and painful hours, Lying sleepless on no bed. "Dreaming strange and longing fancier Of cool &rale far away; Dreams of rosy happy children; Laughing merrily at play; Coming home through green lanes bearing Trailing branches of white May. "Scarce a glimpse of the blue heavens Gleamed above the narrow street, And the sultry air of Summer • (That you called so warm and sweet) Fevered the poor Orphan, dwelling In the crowded alley's heat. "One bright day, with feeble footsteps Slowly forth he dared to crawl, Through the crowded city's pathways, Till he reached a garden•wall ; Where 'mid princely halls and =melon's Stood the lordliest of all. , "There were trees with giant branches Velvet glades where shadows hide ; There were sparkling fountsius glancing, Flowers whose rich luxuriant pride MEI= ITEARLEBEI AND FREE." Wafted s breath of woes perfume To the child who stil outside. "He against the gide et iron , Pressed his wanandSristfhl face, Geeing with an a stuck pleasure At the glories o the d tlace ; Never had his fai •dream Shone with half a ci9rondrous grace. "Yon were playing that garden, Throwing blow slp the air, And laughing wh IFB petals floated Downward on 3'o •lden hair ; And the fond eiva . ing o'er you, And the splendor a •‘" • • before you, Told, a Honee's : • was there. "When your Berm • "tired of seeing His pale face of and woe, Turning to the 4 ; r'l rphan, Gave him coin, a.l • e him go. DOM) his cheeks 'to and wasted Bitter team be • flow. "But that look of c h sorrow, On your tender y g heart fell, And you plucked th Addest roses From the tree yo Coved so well, Passing them throu the stern grating, With the gentle ' ,'Farewell I" ~ "Dazzled by the ' , t treasure And the gentle' r b e heard, In the pow: forlorn • spirit, Joy the sleeping ph stirred; In his hand he the flowers, In his heart thy 1 " ' g word. In,, • "So he crept to his poor garret, Poor no more, btu rich and bright ; For the holy drearnsof.childhood-- Love, and Rest, and Pop& and Light-- Floated round the Orplun'aiiillow. Through the atarry . pammer night. "Dsy dawned, yet ail *lon lasted; All too weak to rise k lay; Did be dream that noitispoke harshly All were strangely Mid that day? Yes • he thought his t:rinsureil, roses Mast hare charmed oil ills away. "And he smiled, though they were fading ; One by one their laves were shed ; 'Stich bright thinp chid never perish. They wiald blootaisgtin,' he said. When the, next dayts 'lent had risct, mita and dowers boil were dead. "Know, dear little olio t our Father Doea no ge utle, dri liedain ; And in,heirtegittlkg in heaven, Love on the cold earth remaieing Lives divine and pore again!" Thus the angel ceased, and gently O'er his little hardiest leant ; While the child gated from the shining Loving eyes that der him bent, To the blooming roads by him, Wondering what/.hat mystery meant. Then the radiant angel answered, And with holy meaning smiled s i "Ere your tender, ksving spirit Bin and the haul world defiled, Mercy gave me leave to seek yoi ; I was once thatlfitle child I" A DANDY TRYNG IT ON. -"My dear Amelia." said the dandy; on banded knees befere his adorable,' "1 have long wished for this opportuttiff, but hardly dare 'peak now' for fear you I will inject me ; but I love you—will y.O be mine ? Yea will be to me every tbiag desirable—evnrything my heart could wish. Your smiles would shed—" Here the dan4r stuck, fast for lack of some big poetioe ression to help him out. "Your smiles would abed--" Another dead ;halt I Meantime the young. lady's b titer, a bit, of a wag, had stole unpe bred into the room and heard all the brig t talk. Dandy, tries a third time— " Your smiles I "Never mind wag, "pass it and The young lad, awry by the quei gathering bimsel parts unknown. uld sbed"-- e wood-she.d," olikid the Iltry something else I" gravity was quite put exhibition, and dandy, ; up hastily, vamoeed to. New York Btite, with J votes, klled at the late ion 595,160 votes, while is, having together 69 ri ffled 595 r 978. These a. Delaware, Arkansas, it, nd, Texas, Louisiana, th Carolina, Vermont, 1 rid California. A PM/ALUM. thirt7 , five elect() Presidential eleo twelve other 8 lectors) votes; States are Flori Alabarea, Mar Mississippi, N New Hampshire A NOBLE GI sembly, Gem P log from the ofi Amhara! Sod • .—At the Partnete' . St. G. Cooke, on retie- . of President otthe Ag , which he has so ably e society his check for oilers as a contribution taining an Agricultural , on witb the University i mond Dispatch: . . filled, gave to t twenty thousand to a - fund for nrel School in cornea 1 of A young man fki New York city has eta. - len the •ffeotion and married the only daughter of a wealthy gentleman, who give the scamp 14,000 to release her from all matrimonial hoods—after which he went to the honer of her father and took her away in a carriage', she preferring the husband to the "tonnes. 111:7Philosopl,ers say, that shutting the eyes makes the ease of hearing more a cute. This may account for the many closed eyes that are aeon in (Air churches. A Vat=Antal SEIM= /Da "DIM With a hula nelitness, and with taste in selecting the right goods, you can dress three times as well as usual, at about one. third the usual' expense. ' fr 74"4 Bay Pat, are you salve ? "Divil the slap." "Theo be atter kale me a quarter." "I'm salve be jabots." A TALE. Mr. Choste's miser able and nonde. script manuscript has frequently furnish ed the basis of many a spirited hots 'mot, the best we ewer saw hoticg been, penned by the late Major North. But the pecu liar dlegibillity of Mr. Choste's hand 'trilling will be seen by the following in cidents t Oa the oetiation of the meeting it be came necessary that the letter of decline lion should be publicly read, and the chair man Will called upon to fulfil the office.-* Chairman accordingly arose in his - seat and thrust hie hand into his left hand pocket to find the letter. Letter w a sn't there. Chairman tried the right—no go. Tried the coat-tail pockets—no success. Letter turned np mussing. Chairman stared at Secretary, and Secretary. in tun), aerCtinized the entitttenance of the Vice .President ; no Choate manuscript to be found. The next was fur the per tom to whom it was addressed to go to his hotel, in Look stre.et, end 'hunt the let.' ter. Colonel Richard B. Jones was as busy, when hie guest entered, as slunk rat At high Slater, engaged 'in giving 'a Dutch carpenter directions' for making an ornamental cornice "Whit's the matter. air, he asked as the fat gent rushed into the saloon, puffing like a porpoise; ' , what's your- hurry 1" "Why, Colonel. . 1 am as mad as than. der ;.I've bat Rufus Choate's letter to the Democratic meeting. sad they're waiting to hear it read.l„.' !•Ah, indeed 1 that's a pity." remarked the Colonel. with hie usual sympittity.— " Where did you leave it last 1" Well, the fact is, I don't knaw ; but I ant pretty sure IA it in my room." • "Have you looked there 1" wirel ; but I can't find it." • “Why, that's very strange; nobody has entered your room since you NW-- Suppose you go up and take another look t” The fat gentleman acquiesced, and they ascended the stairs together. when fat gent espied a paper lying on the floor, which he declared to be the missing doc ument. This he seised, end hurried up to the State !louse, where the meeting was in Session. He entered, and as the. audience were" on the, climacteric of exmosney to' know what Mr. Chosite's sympathies were, , fat gept's appeaiance. red as a lobster in a : nevi . suit of vermillion, ; with 4 paper in failignapprudoccif around 4: 4 10 Fat gentleman subsided lino a chair. and wiped hie face with a square yard of kb ric, while Secretory arose. militated lois spectacles and neck-tie, pnlled up his shirt collar precisely three-quarters of an inch higher,and then unfolded the doe ument. hen he did so, he blushed scarlet, returned paper to fat gent, and. sat down. Audience began to hiss, while fat gent soon saw that, instead of Choate's letter, he had brought with him. by mil. takes an architecutural design. The house then went into an Uproar. As it we, to late to read the letter, and While the Seeretary stated the facts of the case, our fat friend returned to Col., Jones, to enlist hie eympathy. While the Colonel was thus listening to his chtillby friend's narrative, in comes a Dutch carpentert with a planed board under his arm, saw ed in angles innumerable. Micky look ed irate,, and, as a matter, of course. his employer wished to know why. ' , Why. Chanel, I shoot give np die ehob, and have noting more to do mit dat ish all." "Why not 1" was theaupprieed rejoind "Yes, why not ?" added bit gent, quite interested in , the man's manner. "Well, because it takes too much shtuff, und too much work; und I Jonah money cdt it pinkies." , "Why, you get all you ilk, don'tyou . inquired the Colonel. "Yes; but you tell me'dat'de' diagram was plain, and you sends me one what ish dilrerent every ten loot und ash hard to make ash der tuyfel." "Why, that's odd I" says the Colonel, 4 1.aet's look at it I“ "Dere, by tender I" said . Dutehy, pro dosing Ihe paper and spreading it on the table. "Shoost dell me how you dinke I make dot for six toilers I" ' ierhe.deuce I",,exeleitned - the Colonel, with empharie. ' ' ."Goodnese gracious 1" oak! the jet men. Ishe's been making to cornice 6y Mat Choate Leiter." Such was the ease, The Carpenter— a newly arrived Leipsiger—had by some mistake got bold of the fat gentleman's treasure, and supposing it to be the Cols' o draft a "tam Yankee cornice," had faithfully endeavored to saw out a pattern. It was a most unexampled ease of parse. verance under extreme difficulties. as Col. Choate's manuscript looks very much what a Virginia worm fence must appear to a gentleman upon a hard spree. WONDIRPUL GROWTH or lOWA.—Gov ernor Grimes of lowa, in his annual mes. sage, makes the State's indebted nes $128,- 000 ; availsble revnue $246,000; received during the year $260,000; paid out $219,- 000. The population of the State in 1836 amounted to only 10,531; up to June 1854 it increased to 826.014, and in Juno last numbered 508,625 souls. At the present moment it probably reaches 600; 000. The assessable property in the State in 1851 was valued at $28,464,550; in 1855 at $106,895,800, and in 1856 at $164,194,418. This is truly a w onderful growth, and shows to what greatness and wealth this young State is rapid ly attain ing. • Pleasure owes all its zest to anticipa ilon. The promise of a shilling fiddle will keep a schoolboy in happiness (or a year. The fun connected with its poses elan will expire in an hour. GALLAS soy OP GINGER BLUE. liiiiT.The following lines we iind floating aloose.-' Unlike most negro melodies, they have a dug of genuine poetic excellence and harmony in them, worthy of being set to mu. sic. We publish them with the hope that some of our musical friends will try their voices up on them. Let us see if some one of renders cannot set the words to music : Dark, dark de night, and *us de moon, Nagar but one am peepin' ; The hootowl akoge de same ole toon, Ai true de woods I'm creepin'. "Boo•hoo I boo hoof"-who cam fOr dat, Yon good•ror•nott'n feddered cat f Die nigger keep on aingint ; He sing, and on de banjo play, To charm de goblin Oman away, While de skunk he aweete am ilingla% True de wooda—push along, Heber fear de booka-boo True de woode--dat's de Bong, Gallas son ob Ginger Blue I De whipmin•will squat on de stone, Trois mthde from his fiddle De daficing'Trogs all swashm.down . „ Outside and np de Middle. • ' What dat what der. I die, nigger's eyei Displore, wid mighty big inirprme, Upon de gnm-tree stritigiul P It ant a poSsurn at his earn Docked in de cradle ou de breeze,,, And li sestin' to, de . . Trne do woods—upusli Neber mindlO - possum,'too 1 True de Goods—dat's de sting, ~ Fearless son of Ginger Blue i De moon swine down—pitch dark de night Cold, cold de dew am falling I I fear dig darkey see a eight, .Dat let him wool. a crawling 1 . Who dar,t who du goblin itadt ? 'Peak I or dis Minetrum's bahjeit 'Peak, and d,yael* unnibbl. 'Teak 1, goblin, °peak! but whed'r or no, Dia ininatrutn drop Ma ole babjci, And trip a litlk trabli'll 1 True de woods-•cut along— Tudder back you booga•boo True de wooda-4rap de song, Nimble child of Ginger Blue MR. WERSPER ON ..THE DA:Atti OF HIS win; ' His'efweches and writings give no finer Indicatitins of the inaktvty and greatness, of• Mr. Vit'abiteee' than is alThrde4 Wire' • his ..private correspondence," recently published t W/onigarox, March 21, 1828. My Dear Nephew c--I thank you for your kind affectionate letter, and. assure you its euggeations are all In strict accor• 'dance with my own feelings. It tines appear to me. reaeonable to believe that the trientlshipe ophis life'are perpetuated in Heaven. -Flesh and blood, indeed. Can.. not inherit the kingdom of God I but. I know not why that which ronatitutes a pure source of happiness on earth, indi vidual.affection and love, may not may've the tomb. Indeed. is not the principle of happiness, to the sentient being essential., ly the same in heaven and on acrid The love Of God and of the girl beings whom he hat created, and the admiration of the material universe which he has formed, can there.be . other sources of. hsppiness than these to the human mind, unless it is to alter the whole structure and character? And again, it may he asked. how can this world be rightly called 4 al'enP a pro' bation and discipline, if' 'these affeetions, which we are commanded to cherish' and cultivate, here, are to leavens on the thresh old of the other world? These Cews, and many others, would seem to lead to the belief that earthly affections, pit. rifled and exalted, are fit to' carry' with us to the abode of the blersed. Yet it must be confessed thut there are some possibly in the NOW Testament which ma) possibly countenance a different conch. sion. The words of our Saviour. espeoi. ally in regard to the woman who had see ms husbands, deserve deep reflection.— I am free to confess that some descriptions of heavenly happiness are to ethereal and sublimated as to fill me with a strange sort 431 terror. Ewen that which you quote, that our departed friends are as' the an• gels of God," penetrates my soul with a dreadful emotion. Like en angel of Gad, Indeed, I hope she is in purity, happiness, and in immortality; but I would , fain hope that in kind remembrance of those she has left; Ic a lingering human sympathy and human love she may yet be as God origi nally created her, a little lower than the angels. My dear nephew. 1 rennet pursue theee thoughts nor turn back to see wheal have written. Adieu. ASTRONObIIOAL PHINOMENA.•-•430011 after the Copernican system of Astronomy began to be generally understood, an old Connecticut farmer went to his parson with the following enquiry : "Dr. T., do you believe in the new story aboit the earth moving around the sun ?' "Yes, certainly." "Do you think it according to the Scriptures ? If it is true, how could Josh ua command the sun to stand still ?" "Umph !" said the Doctor, scratching hie head ; "Joshua commanded the am 'to stand stil l, did. he "Yea." "Well, it stood still, did it not ?" "Yea," “Very well.- Did you over bear that he eel it going again IP” Mir The woman who was geburird in grief" is now alive and doing well. It was a ease of premature interment. , 'craw to Square the C{rdt.-&t• tle your wife's bill for hoops et s . drp good store. M=EI TWO DOLLARS PES NUMBER 41. FRINTEES AND PARADOM, A printer, says Oliver. is the moat Ma rine being living, He mayihave bank' and coins, and not be worth a cent; have small caps, and have neither alto ,nor children. Others may run fast. but he gets along swifter by selling fast. He, - may be making impressions, without .efo. quinine: may use the ley without of f end.. ing, and be telling the truth; while Others cannot stand while they sit, he sets stands nag. and does both at the same time;.have • to use -furniture, and yet have no dwell— ing may make and put away pi, and' neveg see a pie; much levy eat it, durin g: hiivihole life ; be a humrn being and* rat at the saute, !kite t may press a great deal end not ask a favor; may handle a Shooting iron, and know nothing about ts ( cannon, gun, or.pirool ;he mg move t he '• /ever that moves the world, and yet begat ,1 lar iron) moving the 'globe as a hog under' a molehill;: spread sheets without being a housewife; he may lay /affirm on:a, bee. and yet be obliged to sleep on the floor - The may tse the dagger withodt . shedding blood, and from the earth he may 'handle stars; he, may be of a roll.' ing, disposition, and,, yet - never desire ti. travel ; he may have a sheep's foot,, snit, not be deformed; never without a cote,. and 'yet know nothing of law or physic s' be always correcting his errors, and 14 1 ' krovvin g worse every day ; .have em-bra.. rev, without ever having the arms of a Inas thrown around him ; have his form locked . vi; and at the same time be free frOmlail. - watch hone% or any other confinemetiti' his office may have a .hell in it, and not he R halt place after all ; he might be plagued'': by the devil, and be a Christian of the best kind ; and what is stranger still.. be to honest or dishonest, rich or poor. drmik or anber, industrious or lazy, he elvrayi elands up to his business. . A THE LIPE OP A STATE.-.-... state cannot flourish long on wrong ideas—on a foun- , dation of violence and wrong, fraud and oppression ; and if honest coroners' ver. dims wore recorded on the tomb.stones of dead empires, we should read *different his toles from these false stories told us lit the books. We shoulbriod that Babylon the great died of a fit of delirium tremens -that Nineveh was killed by apoploxy4- . that Macedonia died of fear—that old E. gypt's death blow was given by the gout —that Rome received shock after shock of paralysis ) with centuries intervening be tween the attack-;-that, to come to mod. ern times, poor Ireland's disease. is liun ger 7 --that old England is , plethoric--that germany is bilious, and has n most terra bee' headielia:::4liat Spain afflicted With the scurvy-that Austria not only ha/Arend ful tits of oh die, but is troubled with a : very, attentive nurse on 'either side--that France hat the neuralgia, and sometimes, , in a revolutionary era, has St. Vitus' dance. Turning to America, We 'find that her on ly safety is in clinging' to her ideas of , truth and right, end that when the State emotes to live by these , grand ideas it most die. like liko a blasted tree.— MOS. Slors Zing RAD NEWS TO . USERS OR TODACOO.—. The Scalpel (a Medical journspubiiihed' in. N. 'rink y for December,Cliniaa along ,, article against the use of tobieco, with the following : ' • In eating, the tobacen chewer must lose all delicate appreolatiou ni fravor; we have observed, indeed, that he is very ea sily satisfied _by the fi,liliy Irish cottkeryi and greasy and cold meat 'and veritable*. of the hotel or boarding house; he seesaws his. food very highly, because of his °Muse, taste; many of these unfortunates drink raw brandy for the same reason. The to-, Immo chewer rarely eats a raw oyster; preferring it. fried, and coated over: with . grease and its empyrouinat if he takes it raw, he tortures the poor c restore with pepper and vinegar, and sticks a fork in it; be can' not elicit it gently from its prison with his lips—they ere clumsy and half paralysed. Finally and worse . than.all, he ceases to appreciate the chaste salute from the rosy lip of rove, and if the mistrees of his blunted affections should permit hint to approach her cheek, it can . ,: only only be with pent•up breath, and averted ! eyes directed towarde bie pocket—the only , attraCtioa a beautiful woman can possibly have for a tobacco chewer. ' If there be a. vice more prostrating to the :body 'antl%, mind, and more crucifying to all the sym.,:, Nobles of man's spiritual nature, we have , yet to be convinced of it: A FARMER. Among our hills and valleys. I have known' Wise and grave men, who, while their diligent hands Tended or gathered in the fruits of earth, • Were reverent learners in the solemn acheal Of Nature. Not in vain to them were sent Stmtkirne and hart. set, or the verbal /tower Thattlarkened the brown tilth, or snow thatlasat On the white winter hills. Each brought intern Some truth, some lesson on the life of man, Or recognition of the Eternal mind, Who veils his glory with the elements. • • One such I knew long since, a whitelairedmarr* Pithy of speech, and merry when he would I A. genial optimist, who daily drew From what he saw his quaint moralities. [ TV C. Nrrifi• . , LIT L 6 J.TRIcs.-:-A KOOMM 0111. who had lost his wife, whose maiden nentg. was Little, addressed the following to Mute Mote, a lady of diminutive statures "rye lost the Little once! bad; • My heutrt is sad and sore; So nowlahoold be' wiry glad, To haves little More." • To which the lady sect ;ha folkiwing answer . , "T pity much the loss you've . had. ; The grief you must endure ; A horst by Little wade to wd r , - A lithe nose won't CrUS 14 lzpViltse grove tholes" sireil tla ale,. works ? A vegoo•erbeei. ~:~~uth~s;, - ;, .