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"Six lines or less, - ' 25 an 00 I square, 16 lines, brevier, 50 75 . 1 00 ;2 ".•" • - • " 100 150 200 -.3 L , " : " 150 225 300 . _ - , 3m. fiin. 12m. 1 square, brevier,: . 0 .53.90 $5 00 $8 00 2 tt • - 5 00 . 8 00 12 00 3 if 7 50 1000 .15 00 4 "" 9 . 00 •14 00 23 00 " ". 15 00 25 00 38 00 10 46 25 - 00 40 00 60 00 P 4 4 roteasiarial and !Business .Caids net ex. ,ceeding 6 lipcS, One year, -. $4 .50 ' EiecutorS' and Administrators' Notices, '1 75 Auditors' ' - , 1 25 THE DEPARTED. BY PARK BENJAMIN. The .departed the departed': They in dreams, . • ; And they glide above our memories 11 Like shadow's over dreams : But wheie the cheerful lights'_of home In constant lustre burn, The departed:- the departed Can never more return: The good,',the brave, tile , beautiful; How, dreamless is their sleep,„ - Where,rolls the dirge-like music Of the-ever-tessing deep! Or where tlie'hurrying night-winds Pale winter's robes have spread Above their narrow .palaces, In the cities of the dead ! I look around and feel the awe Of one who walks alone Among the wrecks of former days, In mournful ruin strown ; I start to hear the stirring sounds, Among the cypress trees, • For•the•voice of the departed Is borne upon the breeze. That,solemtivoice 1 it mingles with Each. free arid 'careless strain ; searce.eari think earth's minstrelsy ' Will cheer - my heart again. Theinelody of summer waves, .The thrilling notes of birds, Can never be.so•dear to . me As their remember'd words. - I sometimes dream their pleasant smiles • Still 'on ine Sweetly fall, - Their tone's oflove I faintly hear . . My naive' in sadnes's call. I. know that they are happy, . - With their angel-plumage on, But my libart is very desolate To think that they arc gone. "She has Chitlived her Usefulness." Not long :since, a good-looking man, in middle life, - came to : our door asking for "the minister." When informed that he was out of town, he seemed disappointed and anxious. On being questioned as. to,his business, he re plied :: "I have lost my mother, and as this ,place used to be her home, and my father lies here, we have come to lay her beside him." Our heart rose.in sympathy, and we said, 'You have met with a great loss.' "Well—yes," replied the strong man, with hesitancy, "a mother is a great loss in general; but our mother has outlived her use fulness ;.she was in her second childhood, arid her mind was grown as weak as her body, so that she was no comfort to herself, and was a burden to every body. There .were seven of us sons and daughters; and as we could not find anybody who was willing to board her, we agreed to keep her among us a year about. But I've had more than my share of her, for she was too feeble to be mo ved when my time was out and that was more.than three months before her death.— But -then she was a good . mother in her day, and toiled very hard to bring us all up." Withont looking at the face of the heart less man, we directed him to the house of a neighboring pastor, and returned to our, nur sery.. We gazed on . the merry little faces which smiled-or grew sad in imitation of ours—those-little ones to whose ear no ward in our language is' half so sweet as 'Mother;' and we wondered if that day could ever cone when they would say of us, .'She-has outlived her, usefulness—she is no comfort to herself and a burden to' everybody- else and we hoped that before such a day would dawn, we might be taken to our rest. -God forbid we should outlive the love of our children ! Rather-let us die while our hearts are a part of their own, That our grave may be watered with their . tears., _and our love linked with their hope of heaven. •. ' When the bell tolled for, the mother's buri al, we went to the sanctuary to pay our only token of respect to the aged stranger; for we felt that we could give her memory a tear, even though her .own children had none , to shed:. . - - _ - 'She was a good mother in her day s and toiled hard to bring us all . up—She was no comfort to herself, and a burden to everybodY else P These cruel, heartless words rang in our ears as we saw the coffin, . borne up the aisle. The bell tolled long and loud, until its iron tongue bad chronicled the years of the toil-worn'. mother. One—two—three-- lour—five. How clearlycand almost merrily each stroke told-of.her once peaceful slumber In her mother's..bosom, and of. her . seat at night-fall on her weary 4atiter's knees. Six —seven—eight—nine—ten-rang out the tale of the sports upon the green sward, in the meadow, and by the brook. Eleven—twelve —thirteen--fourteen--fifteen, spoke more gravely of school days, and ' little household joys and - cares. Shiteen—seven teen—eigh teen, sounded out the :enraptured visions of maidenhood, and the dream of early love .--.- `Nineteen, brought before us the'happy bride. - Twenty spoke of the young mother whose -heart was full to bursting, with the. new strong love which God had awakened in her bosom. And then . stroke after stroke told of her early womanhood; of the love and cares, and hopeS, and fears; and toils through _which she passed during those long years, till fifty , ratter out harsh and loud.. From that to sixty each stroke told - of the warm hearted • mother and grand-mother, living over again 'her own - joys and , sorrows• in those. of her children and children's, children. Every family of all the group wanted grand mother then, and the only strife was who should secure the prize; but, hark ! the 'bell tolls •on 1 .Seventy—seventy'-one—two--- three—four. She begins to grow :feeble, re quires Some, care, is not always perfectly pa tient or satisfied ; she goes from 'one 'child's house to another, so that no one place seems like-home. She murmers in plaintive terms.' ,aud after all her. toil and •weariness, it is hard she cannot be allowed a home to die,in e that 'see must be sent; rather than invited, from hoiese• to. house..- Eighty—eighty-one; _two, three, four---ah, she is now a second child"; uow 'she has outlived herusefulne,s . s, she has now ceased to be a comfort to herself or any bolly'else ; that is, she has ceased to be .- pro-, -fitable to• her earth-craving and money-grasp e ing children. Now sounds tout, reverbera ting through our lovely forest, and, echoing bac from our 'hill of the dead,' Eighty-nine! there she lies now in the cafin, cold and still; she makes no trouble now, demands no - love, no soft words, no tender little offices. A look of patient endurance, we 'fancied also at ex pression of grief for unrequited love, sat on her marble features. Her childred werethere ; clad in weeds of woe, and in irony we re membered the strong man's _words. 'She was a good mother in her -day.' • When the bell -ceased tolling, - the strange minister. rose in the pulpit. • His form--was very erect, and his voice strong, but hishair was silvery wßitee 'He read several paseages of Scripture expressive of God's •obinpa.ssion to feeble man, and especially of his' tehder ness when grey hairs are on him; .and :'hii strength failethe He then made some touch ing remarks on human frailty, and of 'depen dence on - God, urgiite all present to make their peace with their- Master while in health, that they might - claim his promises- - When' heart and flesh should fail them. he' said, 'the eternal God shall. be thy refuge, and be neath thee shall be the everlasting Leaning over the desk, end gazing intendy on the coffined form before him, he then said reverently, 'From a child have honored the aged ; but never till grey hairs covered • ray own head, did I know truly , how much lore and sympathy this class- have a right to de mand of their fellow-creatures. Now I feel it. Our mother,' 'he 'added most tenderly, 'who now l'es in death before us, was a stran ger to me, as are all these, her descendants. All I know of her : is what her sop • has. told. me to-day ;'that she 'was brought to this 'town from afar, sixty-nine years ago; - a happy bride; that here she - has passed most; of her life, toiling as only mothers ever have strength to toil, until she had reared a large sons and daughters ;:that she left her home, here, clad in the weeds of, widowhood, to dwell among her. children ; and that till health and vigor left her, she,lived for you,.. her de scendants. You, who together have: shared her love and care, .know how xyell•yote have requited her. God forbid that . conscience should accuse any of you of ingraiitude, or murmuring on account of the, care : she has been to you of late. When yon go back to your homes, be careful of your own children, for the fruit of your own doing you will sure ly reap. from them when you yourselves tot ter on the brink of,the grave. I entreat you as a friend, as one who has himself entered the evening of life, that you may never say, in the presence of your families nor- of, hea ven, "Our mother. has outlived her useful ness—she was a. burden .to us." . Never, nev er ; a mother cannot liveteso long as that 7 No ; when she can no longer labor - for her children, nor yet care for herself, she can fall like a precious weight on their bosoms, and call forth by her helplessness all the noble, gacerous feelings of their natures. . 'Adieu, then, pear toil-worn mother; there are no more sleepless night, no more days of pain forthee. Undying vigor and everlasting usefulness are part of the inheritance of the redeemed...-. Feeble as thou wert on earth; thou wilt be no burden on the bosom of Infinite Love, but there shalt thou find longed-for rest, and receive glorious sympathy' from Jesus and his ransomed fold.' MEM Stutz of KNOW-NoTEriictsm.—The Louis ville Courier, edited by Walter Haldeman, Esq.,•formerly a Whig, but more recently a Know-Nothing, has repudiated. his party.— Hear him. • "The nexi election will SEAL THE DOOM OF KNOW-NOTHINGISM [N KENTUCKY. Thousands of Whigs who voted the Know- Nothing ticket last. August, are now utterly disgusted with the party, -and will work with a will at the next election to secure its defeat. Within the last five ,months such changes have been gaing,on as to leaye, not the, sligh- , test doubt as to what will be the,yositipn of our noble State in the next . contest." There is not a TRUE PATRIOT in ~the laud that "doubts it.n Kentucky is just as cer tain to cast her electoral vote for ,the notni; nee of the Democratic National Convention, as that the day of the election will come. was a pertinent and forcible saying, of the Emperor Napolecin,. that a ( hansilothe woman pleases the eye 2 but' a good .women pleases the heaat one is a jewel and the oth er a treasure." [l:7 - Never joke with ladies on matrimony or bread making, 'it is 'very wrong. One re; fers to the highest interests) of the heart and the other to those 'of ' the stomach. Young men will please chalk it down in their hats. .r The Garrulous Yankee Wido*. , If you_have ever. met in your traveling, reader 'With a garrulous old woman•` 'Whose tongue it was wholly -impossible - to ',keep from running all the-while, you,wil4 laugh: as we have laughed at- the annexed sketch „of NeW-England stage coach corepank. , The extract may seem a little long at first,: bat never mind that-; you will think it too short when you get7through with it. . The day was remarkably, fine ; our road lay through the pleasantest part of the Housa.tort ic—our cattle were sleek and fine looking-: the driver was civil and dressed well—while the coach itself was a miracle -of comfort, In the.midst of this prospective and pre sent enjoyment an elderly lady, with a: mon strous band-box, a paper-covered trunk; and a little - girl, are stowed away in the coach:— And here began the .trouble.. Before getting in however— "Driver," said . the lady, "do you know Deacon Hitchcock-V 7 • "No ma'am?' replied the driver, "I've on ly druv on this road, a fortnight." . "I wonder if neither of ,them_ gentlemen kon't know him !" she said,lnittitig, her...head into the coach. ' don'V said one, whom:we will call the wag . ; "but I know Deacon Hotchkiss : if that will answer your purpose.'? "Don't either of them other gentlemen knoW-him - • - No reply. s . h"Well., t en, I don't know whether to go in or not," said the lady. ; "because I must see Deacon Hitchcock before Igo holism. - I am from the state of New-Hampshire,. and - the deacon was a partictlar friend of 'my hus band:—this little girl's father, who has been dead two ion°. years, and I should like-to see him 'mazingry." "Does he live about here _ ?" inquired the driver. "Well, I don't know 'for sartain," said, the l'ady; "but lie lives somewhere in Connecti cut. This is the first time I was .ever so far from home. I live in the' State of New- Hampshire, and it-is dreadful unpleasant. I feel a Attie dtibersome aboiit tiding all', alone in a stage with gentlemen that have' never - saw before in all my life." ' "There is no danger, ma'am," said - the dri .ver, "the gentlemen won't hurt - you." "Well perhaps they . wan'; but it's very unpleasant - for a lady fo.be' so far from home. I live in the State of New-Harnpshire; and this little girl's 7; "You had better get in ma'am," said the .driver, with praiseworthy moderation:. "Well, I - don't kno - w, but I may as she replied ; and, after- informing.' us once more,that she - was front 'the 'State of,' Isretv- Hampshite,'and that 'her husbarid had been .dead two years, she'gntiti and took her seat. 'How much is icstr i ". asked the.. Lady. . * :"Four and; sixpence," said the driver, "for yours - elf and hide gill." "Well, now, that's a monstrous sight of mo ney for a little girl's pas Sage like that; her father, my husband, has been , dead these two Icinc7 years, and I never' was "sofar from home in all my life. • I live it the State of New- HamPshire. It's very unpleasant for a lady; but I dare .say; neither .of these gentlenien ,would see rrie, lone Widol,v,„iinposed on." "I'll take your fare if yeti please," repea ted the driver. • • , ,"11.0.N.- much did you 'say it was-three and ,sixpence :// 7 asked the lady., "F.our and 'sixpence, if you please,' ma'am'," politely answered . the driver. "Oh 1 Totir and' SixPende." And after a good deal of fumbling and - shaking of her poelrets, she" at last produced .a half dollar_and a York shilling and put them in the driver's hand. ' "That's not enough, Ma'am Said the driver; "I want ninepence more."' . "What ! aln',t we •in York State'?" she as ked, eagerly. "No ma'am," replied the driver, "it is six shillings, York money." - "Well," said the lady, "I used to :be quite gpod, at reckoning when I was at home in New-Hampshire ; but since I've gbt so : ',far from home, b'live I'm beginning lo losC thy menlarfaculties." "I'll take -that other ninepence, if You please," said the driver in a voice approach ing a little nearer to impatience. At last, af ter 'making allusion three or four times to her native State, and her deceased husband, (hap py man) she handed the driver ninepence, and we were once more in motion. . . "Do you think it's dangerous on this road??? began the lady, as soon as the door was clo sed. "I'm a very lengthy way from home, in the State of New-Hampshire, and if any thing should happen . I don?t know •what I should do. I'm. quite Unfamiliar with travel ing. I'm a Widow lady. My husband, this little girl's father, has been dead these two years coming, this spring, and I'mgoing with her to the Springs sh has got a .dreadful bad complaint in her stomach. Are yOu go ing to the Springs, sir 'I" she asked of an' in: valid passenger. • He shook his head feebly in reply. "Are pin going, sir?" said she, addressing the humorist. "No," replied he, "I am not; and if were but, the contingency was inwardly pronounced. "ArS'youl" she asked, turning tome. "No !" • "Ah ! Pin very sorry ; I should like to put payself,under the care of some clever gentle .man, ts so awful unpleasant for a lady to be so Tar • from home without a•protector. I 'am from the State of New-Hampshire, and this is the first time I ever went traveling in Do you. know. anybody in New . Hampshirer ' "No, madam," ,answered the wag; "I do not, andl hope you will excusezne for saying that I never wish to." "Well, now, that's very strange," contin ued the old gossip,' "I haven't met 'a single soul that I knew since I left home. I ain ac quainted with all the first people in the State. I am very • well .known• in Rocky Bottom, Sockingham county, in the State of . New liampshire. • I'know all the firet gentlemen in the place ; there's Squire Goodwin, Squire Cushman, Mr. Timothy Havens, Mr. Zachary Upham, Dr. David," HUNTINGDON, APRIL 3,. : 1 . 806. , ' , "Hold.on, driVei ! hold on !I' exclaimed the humorist, "I can't stand this ! Stop for mercy's sake, and let me out?" The driver reined up, -and the wag took his valise in, his hand and jumpect out—the discomfit ed victim of a garrulous old woman. CREDULITY; Or, the Dangers •of Delusions, The-present age is evidently a progressive one, and that it is so, is,. generally speaking, a matter of exultation and aciagratulation.— But there is semetimesfalse progress as well - as; real. 'Fanaticism often takes the place of truth, imposture thatrof science, and bigotry that dame. And hence it is : -that the isms of theday are so numerous; so va ried and - So remarkable. There are thous ands and tens of thousands of the human family at this moment, who are monomaniacs upon one subject or anether t who are con verts'to 'false theories, enthusiasts of some delusion, and, in fact, insane upon some ab surdity. . Ever and anon a-. specious doctrine is started, and "troops of believers" are found among the weak and the credulous. Bit a -little while has gone by since "the Miller 'mania," which fixed the expiration of time arid the destruction: of the world at a certain period, beguiled and deluded a considerable portion of .the American people., Many.sur rendered their property, were - deceived by the mercenary and base, and only aroused front the folly and infatuation,-when they. had.re duced themselves to a condition of compara tive beggary._ The great direr, of the time is a belief in spiritualism, andits kindred delusions. The extent to which this prevails . is incredible to those who do not pay any attention to the subject. The .most preposterous doctrines are sometimes disseminated, while at - seasons madness 'rules the hour, and notaons of a truly revolting character are promulgated.— It is not our - purpose to enter into an analyti cal examination of any' - of the isms or delu sions that have exercised so Much influence upon the human mind, but merely to admon ish . the susceptible, .the excitable, and the credulous. There are in every community 'individuals who are constantly seeking out some novelty.- 'They' fancy that they Were born' to make discoveries, to suggest and ac complish reforms., Nevertheless, too many Of them lack all the. essentials, are excitable, eager and impulsive, -rather than calm, tho't ful and practical, and thus they may be found either advocating or participating, in every delusion - dile hour. The 'hUman moreover, may-readily_lose its balance, and when - once- disordered -thraughafanaticism, I credulity, or impo,sturp, -the effects are. sad indeed. The dangers of delusion are many and - imminent, ,The victims may be counted by thousands.' There is scarcely any indi vidual- in the community who cannot point out somesad-case. - In ahrisiness'and social -point of-,view, the- error is-one of a serious character.. The. merchant or, the mechanic Who - negleats his regular avocation, trifles with his 'friends and his Credit for the:purpose of mingling - with every excitement that oc curs, will very soon-be looked upon with sus picion and distrust, and, then treated with caution and coldness.' Nothing, indeed, Mil:mid-be regarded as more important than common sense views, regular habits, cairn opinions- and deliberate= purpoSes. - The' excitable and ereduloui are rarely reliable.— They may be deceived and led away 'at any moment: , Every new ism may captivate, Occupy their time and attention, disturb the even, tenor of their way, and induce them to= neglect - some positive duty. Look, for ex ample, at the:itinerant adventures of the day, who-, possessed of fancy and talent, wander through the country, and advocate, first one reform :and then another. At the beginning they mean -well, and are really benevolent, :but as .they go on, step by step,- they become inflated with vanity, or maddened by notori ety, -untilat- last they-are willing to mingle in any cause, provided it shall serve to make them conspicuous. They are themselves de-- hided, and. they.endeavor to delude others.— In-many cases, too, they adopt eccentricities of - manner and of dress, and often of morals. In ,other words, they wander from the regular paths of life, and the ordinary usages of so ciety; and in the end, fancy that peculiarities are indications of genius or philosophy, whereas they only betoken a tottering condi tion of intellect. The aspiring, the ambitious and .the weak, who endeavor to grasp subjects beyond their reach, ar to penetrate mysteries that are- wisely 'veiled by the Creator from mortal ken, too often become either infidels or monomaniacs,-,and -instead of being guides and lights to mankind, they . should serve as beacons to admonish and to warn. Many of the new'doctrines of the day are not only .immoral, but they are :irreverent, mocking and blasphemous. They are, moreover, cal culated to do infinitely more harm than good, and therefore they should be' distrueted and discountenanced by all who wish well to the human' family. Dickens' Picture of Woman. The true woman, for whose ambition a hus band's love and her children's adoration are sufficient, who applies her Military instincts to the discipline of her household, and whose legislative exercise themselves in making laws for her nurse; whose intellect has field enough for her in communion with her hus band, and whose heart asks no other honors than his love and admiration; a woman who does not think it a weakness to attend to• her toilet, and who does not disdain to be beauti ful; who believes in the virtue of glossy hair and well fitting gowns, and who eschews rents and raveled edges, slip-shod shoes and audacious make-ups, a woman who speaks low and does not speak• much ; who is patient and gentle, and intellectual and industrious; who - loves more than she reasons, and yet does not love blindly ; who never scolds and never argues, but adjusts with a smile; such a woman is the .wife we have all dreamed of once in our lives, and is the mother we still worship in the backward distance of the past. B U six drachms make_ a penny-weight, how many will make a creditor wait An swer expected next moon. The Retreat from Long Island. The second voluine of Living's Life of George Washington has just appeared. Alm though' largely occupied by military affairs, the volume contains .many ,fine sketches of private character, and life-like _pictures of American society as it was iii the time of the Revolution. The narrative of the unfortu nate battle of Long Island and of the subse quent retreat may be selected as a specimen of the graphic style in which Mr. Irving de scribes military operations. We extract a few paragraphs : Never did retreat require greater secrecy and circumspection. Nine thousand men, with all the munitions of war,. were to be withdrawn from before a victorious army, en caniped SD near that every stroke of spade and pick-axe from their trenches could, be heard. The retreating troops, moreover, were to be embarked and conveyed across a strait three-quarters of a mile' wide,•swept:by rapid tides.: The leasLalarm of their move ment would. bring ; thp enemy upon them, and produce a terrible scene of confusion and par nage at the place of embarkation. Washington made the preparatory' arrange ments with .great alertness, yet profound se crecy. Verbal orders . were sent to Colonel Hughes, who acted as quartermaster-general, to impress all water-craft, large' and small, from Spyinden - Duivel, on the Hudson, round to Hell-Gate,-on'.the Sound, and have them or: the east side of the city by evening. The order was issued r at noon, and so promptly executed that, although some of the vessels had to be brought 'a distance• of 15 miles, they were all at Brooklyn at 8 o'clock in the evening, And put under the management of Colonel Glover samphibiousMarblehe . ad regi ment. .. -To !prepare the , army for a general move ment without, betraying, the object, orders were issued for the troops to.hOld themselves in readiness for . b. night attack upon • the ene my. The Orders caused surprise, for the poor -fellows were exhausted, and their arms rendered nearly useless by rain ; all, hew ever., prepared to obey, but, several made nim cupative wills, as is customary among sol -diers on the eve of sudden and deadly peril. According to Washingten's plan of retreat, to keep the enemy from,discoverin,g the with draWal of the Americans until their main body should have embarked in the boats and pushed off from the shore, Gen. Mifflin was to-remain at the lines, with the Peunsylvania troops, and the gallant remains of -Haslet, Smallwood and Hand's reginnerirs; with guards posted and sentinels alert, as if nothing ex• traordinary was ,taking place, ; when the main embarkation was effected, they, were there- Selves to move off - quietly, march briskly to the ferry, and'einbark. -In case of any alarm that. might. disconcert the arransements, Brooklyn Church was to be the rallying place, whither all Should repair, so as unitedly to re sist any attack. ' It was late in the evening 'when the troops began to retire from-the breastworks. As one regiment quietly withdrew from their station on. guard, the troops on the right and left mov ed up and filled the vacancy. There was a stifled murmur in the camp, ainavoidable in 'h. movement of the kind; but it gradually died away in the direction of the river, as the main body moved on in silence and order.— The youthful Hamilton, whoSe military mer its lead won the favor of General Greene, and who had lost his baggage and a field-piece in the battle, brought up the rear of the retreat ing party. In the dead of the night, - and in the midst of this hushed and anxious move inent; a cannon went off with a tremendous roar. -" The effect," says an American who was present, was at once alarming and sub lime. If - the explosion was within Our lines, the gun was probably dischthged in the act of spiking it, and could have been• no less a matter of speculation to the enemy. than to ourselves." - "What with the greatness of the stake, the darkness of the night, the uncertainty of the design, and the extreme hazard of the issue," adds the same writer, " it would be difficult to conceive a more deeply solemn and inter esting. scene." The meaning of this midnight gun was never ascertained ; fortunately, though it startled the Americans, it failed to rouse the British camp. In the meantime the embarkation went on with all possible dispatch, under the vigilant eye of Washington, who stationed himself at the ferry, superintending every movement. In his anxiety for dispatch, he sent back Col. Scarnmel, one of his aids-de-Camp, to hasten forward all the troops that were on the march. Scammel blundered in executing his errand, and gave the order to Mifflin likewise. The general 'instantly called in his pickets and sentinels, and set off for the ferry. - By this time the tide had turned; there was a strong wind from the north-east; the boats with oars were insufficient to convey the . troops; those with sails could not make head way against wind and tide. There was some confusion at the ferry, and in the midst of it, Gen. Mifflin came down with the whole cov ering party, adding to the embarrassment and. uproar. ' "Good God !" Gen. Mifflin !" cried Wash ington, "I am afraid that you have ruined us by so unseasonably withdrawing the troops from the lines.9l` " I did so by your order," replied Mifflin, with some warmth. "'lt cannot be!" ex claimed Washington. ‘! By G—, I did !" was the blunt rejoinder. " Did Scarnmel act as aid-de-camp for the day, or did he not ?" "He " Then," said Mifflin, " I had orders through him." "Itis a dreadful mis takej"•rejoined Washing,ton ; "and, unless the troops can regain the-lines before.their absence is discovered by the enemy, the most disastrous consequences are to be apprehend ed." Mifflin led back his men to the lines, which had been completely deserted for three quar ters of an hour. Fortunately, the dense fog bad prevented the enemy from discovering they were unoccupied. The men resumed their former posts, and remained at them un til called to cross the ferry. " Whoever has seen troops in a similar situation," writes Gen. Heath, "or duly contemplates the human VOL 111,.N0. 44. heart in such trials, know low to appre ciate the conduct of these' brave men'on the occasion." The.fog which prevailed, all this time seem ed almost providential. While it hung . over Long Island, and concealed the movement of the Americans, the atmosphere was Clear on the. Netv-York side of the river. The adverse wind, too, died away ; the river became so smooth that the row-boats could be laden al most to the gunwale; and a favoring breeze sprang up for the sail-boats. The whole erit barkation of troops, artillery, ammunition, provisions, cattle, horses and carts was hap pily, effected ; and, by 'daybreak, the greater part had safely reached the citythanks to the aid of Glover's Marblehead men. 'Scarce anything was abandoned to the enemy, ex cepting a few heavy pieces of artillery. At a proper time Mifflin, with his covering party, left the lines, and effected a silent re treat to the ferry. Washington, .thobgh re peatedly entreated, refused. to enter a boat un til all the troops were embarked, and crossed the river with the last. i , Slavery Extensionists." The Cincinnati Enquirer, remarking upon some of the cant phrases so common with the Black Republican, organs and speakers in referring to the Democracy, says with truth and force that the question of difference be tween the two organizations is simply this : whether the subject of slaVery extension shall be determined by the residents of new Territorial communities, or. by non-residents living in other- States. The Democracy maintain the first proposition—the Black,- Republicans the Becund. Accordino , to Black Republican logic, every person who is in fa vor of allowing the people of Kansas or Ne braska to make their own laws and institu tions is a slavery extensionist. By the same authority he is oppo,sed to " freedom " _who does not advocate the right and duty of non residents to model the institutions of the Ter ritorieg alluded to withoUt reference to the wishes of those inhabiting them. The En quirer adds: The Democracy insist that, while_ the North may entertair. such abstract 'views as it chooses adverse to slavery extension, and the Sleuth in its favor, the matter, after to, be determined by the `pioneers who re move to the Territory which is the field of dispute. Neither the North nor the South should impose their peculiar Views upon the former. The distinction - bet Ween allowing the people of the Territorieeto decide the sla very question themselves—as they .do ; other matters of legislation affecting their in terests—and advocatinii directly, its extension into new *territory, .is so broad and marked. that the man who does not ,perceive and rec ognize it, must be either grossly ignorant or very dishonest. Into one or the other of these categories should be placed all those.partisans who are eternally harping about the Democ racy being in favor of th extension- of sla very. . , . . The falsehood, .however, has done about all the mischief it is capable of performing. It is becoming exploded. The discussions of the Kansas-Nebraska Bill in Congress and in the journals of the day are opening the eyes of the people to the fraud that has been per petrated upon their credulity. The true issue will soon be generally- and clearly compre hended, and upon it the Democracy are des tined to win glorious and lasting victories.— The common sense and patriotism of the country will - pronounce in favor of reposing political power in the hands of residents of new States and Territories rather than non residents, who have not that deep interest in their welfare and prosperity. 'The opponents of Territorial sovereignty seem to be actua ted by the old Federal idea that the people are not capable of self-government, and will not exercise its functions aright if intrusted with it. The Democracy have no such fears —no such apprehensions. The experience of seventy years has convinced them that there is intelligence sufficient iii the popular masses to maintain free institutions, and they can see no necessity in keping the Territories under the tutelar guardianship and protection of those who do not live in them, and, of course, do not understand all their local wants and necessities. . Teaching and Tr-4ining Many teachers fail to accomplish what they wish, because they do not understand the difference between teaching and training. To teach is to communicate instruction, to impart information ; to train is to " exercise, to discipline, to teach and to form by practice,') says Webster. With those who are already educated, measurably-, mere teaching or pre cept may suffice ; but for young persons, those who are to be educated, training, prac tice, must be supetadded, or much of our labor will be lost. GOOD NATURE redeems many faults.— More than beauty, wealth, power, genius, it causes men and women to be loved. If there are no shining qualities whatever in the Char acter, even should there be considerable intel lectual deficiency, yet if a goodtemperbeamev brightly on the countenance, we ask fur noth ing more. We pause not ;we do not ques tion, nor hesitate, but surrender at once to ' the fascination of the good and honest soul, that has set upon his face the seal of this ad mirable quality. —[Newark Advocate. [CP'Whatever children hear read, ar spo ken of in terms of approbation, will give a strong bias to their minds. Hence the neees sity of guarding conversation in families as well as excluding hooks and companions that' have a tendency to vitiate the heart. 0:71 think it must be somewhere written that the virtues of mothers shall occasionly be visited on their children, as well as the sins of fathers. fC7 - An advertisement for a "saddle-horse' for a lady of 950 pounds" is going the, rounds - . Who is the giantess. I:c'Humble—the husband who does his wife's churning, the wife whO blacks her husband's boots, and' the . man who thinks you do him so much honor.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers