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Esq.. Editor and all ou business to be cdlrensed to the 1'uUislier. Oiiioe. Market St. bi tweeii Second end Third '. X. WORDEN, Printer and Publisher. From fiartain's Union Magazine. JENNY LILTD. BV FUEULKIKA BUt:MER. There was mice n poor and plain Utile girl.dwclling in a iit'ie room.in Stockholm, ihe capital of Sweden- She was a poor little girl indeed tliTn : situ was lonely and neglected, and would have been very ua happy, deprived of the kindness and cnte go necessary to a ciiiM, if it ha J not been fcra peculiar gSx. The little girl had a fine voice, and in her loneliness, in trouble and in sorrow, she consoled her If by sbging In fact, she sung to ail she did : at her work, at her play, running or resting, she always sang. The woman who h;.d her in care went tut to work during the day, and used to luck in the little girl, wbo-had nothing to enliven her solitude hut the company of a c;it. The little girl played with her cat end sang. Once she sat by the open w in dew and stroked her cat and sang, when ; a lady passed by. She heard the voice, and looked up and saw the little singer, she asked the child several questions, went awav. and came back several days later, i louowea uyan otu niustcmaster, aw name was Brelius. lie tried the little girl I musical ear and voice, and was astonished. He took her to the director of the Boyal Opera at Stockholm, then a Cc'jnt Puhe, w hose truly generous and kind heart was concealed by a rough speech and a morbid temper. Brelius introduced his little pupil to the Count, and asked him to e ngage her j as " elevc" for the oncra. ' ou as a foolish thing !" said the Count, gruffly, looking dlsJaiufully duwn ou the poor lit tle girl. " What shall we do with that ugly thing? See what feet she has! She will never be presentable. Nt, we can not take her. Away with her!'' The music-master insisted, almost indig nantly. Well," exclaimed he at last, "ii you will not lake her, poor as 1 am, 1 w,an wi)h eycg )r:nian. wjt, tears, and will take her myself, and have her educated ! radianl ,1, 8m;ies, waving her hand for the scene; then such another ear as j kerch;t.r l0 hcr fr;c.utis Bnd countrymen on she has for music is not to be found in the ' jC s;,ore. world." Tho Count relented. The little girl was at lastjjdmilted into the school for eleves at the opera, and w ith some difficulty a simple gown of black bombas'n was pro cured for fter. The care of her musical education was left to an ahle master, Mr. Albert Berg, director of ihe song-school of the opera. Some years later, at a comedy given by the elcves of the theatre, several persons were struck by the spiiit and life with which a very young eleve acted the part of a beiraar irl in the play. Lovers of genial nature wcro charmed, pedants al most frightened. It was our poor 1'ttle girl, who had made her first appearance, now about fourteen yearsjof age.frolicsonne and full of fun as a child. A few years still later, a young debu tante was to sing for the first time before the public in Weber's Freyschutz. At the rehearsal preceding the representation ol the evening, she sang in a manner which made the members ot the orchestra once, as by common accord, lay down their in struments to clap their hands in rapturous applause. It was our poor, plain little girl here again, who now had grown up and was to appear before the public in the role of Agatha. I saw her at the evening representation. Sho was then in the prime of youth, fresh, bright and serene as a morning in May, perfect in form her hands and arms peculiarly graceful and lovely in her w hole appearance through the expression of her countenance, and the noble simplicity and calmness o( hcr manners. In fact she was charming. We saw not an actress, but a young girl full of natural geniality and grace. She seemed to move, speak, and sing without effort or art. AU was nature and harmony. Her song was distinguished especially by its purity, and the power of lone which seemed to swell her tones. Her " mezzo voce' was delightful. la the night scene O D where Agatha, seeing her lover come, breathes out hcr joy in a rapturous song, our young singer, on turning from the window, at the back of the theatre to the spectators again, was pale for joy. And w mat paie joyousncss sho sans with a t.nrttt nf i)ti!tliitvinr love &n 1 life that called forth not the mirth but the tears ol the au diiors. ! rnrn that time she was ihe declared favorite of the Swedish public, whose mu sical taste and knowledge are said to be surpassed nowhere. And ear after ear slie continued so, though after a time, her voice, being overstrained, lost somewhat of its freshness, and the public, being sa tiated, no more crowded the house wtn ii she was singing. Still, at that time she could be heard singing and playing more delightfully than ever in Pamna (in Ziu- lerflote) or in Ann Helena, though the opera was almost deserted. (It was then late in the spring, and the beautilul weather called the people out to nature's plays. She evidently sang for the pleasure of llie soot;. Uv that time she went to take lessons ol Garcia, in Puris, and so give the finishing touch to her muicral education. There she acquired that warble iu which Site is said to h-ive been equaled by no singer, and which could bis computed only to that of the soaring and warbling lark, if the lark had a soul. And then the young girl went abroad and sang on foreign shores and to foreign people. She charmed Denmark, she charmed ifermany, she charmed England. She was caressed and courted everywhere, even to adulation. At the the courts ol kings, at the houses of the great and tioble, she was fei.-td as tine of the grandees ol nature and art. She was covered with laurels and jowels. Bui Iriends wrote ol her, " In the midst of these splendors she only thinks of her Sweden, and yearns for her friend.-) and her people.'' One dusky October night crowds of peo ple (the most part, by their dress, seeming to belong to the upper classes ol ocie'y) thronged on the shores of the Baltic har- bor, at Stockholm. All looked towards the sea. There was a rumor of expectance and pleasure. Hours passed away, and the crowds still gathered and waited and . , , , ,ottafds ,he sea At a LriIjarit rock(?t ros(J iay(uUyt far . pnIrfl ,.. harbor, and was greeted by a general buzz on the shore. "There she comes ! there she is!" A large steamer now camo thundering on, making its triumphant way through the flocks of ships and boats lying in tha harbor, tow ards lh(J shor(J of ,ie Skeppsbro." Flash- mg rockets marKCd us way in me aarK as it advanced. The crowds on the shore pressed forward as if to meet it. Now the leviathan of the waters was heard thunder ing nearer and nearer, now it relented, now aain pushed on, foaming and splashing, now it lay still. And there, on the front of the deck, was seen by the light o( lamps and rockets, a pale, graceful young wo- It was she again our poor, plain, rirtd neglected little gill of former days who now came back in triumph to her father land. But no more poor, no more plain, no more neglected. She had become rich; j she had become celebrated ; and she had in her slender person the power to charm and inspire multitudes. Some days later, we read in the papers of Stockholm.an address to the public w rit ten by the beloved singer, stating with no ble simplicity that, "as she once more hud the happiness to be in her native land, she would be glad to sing again to her country men, and that, the income of the operas in which she was this season to appear, would be devoted to raise a fund for a school where clevca for the theatre would be edu cated to virtue and knowledge." The intelligence was received as it deserved, and ol course the opera house was crowd ed every time the beloved singer sang there. The first time she again appeared in the "Sonnambula" (one of her favorite roles), the public, after the curtain was dropped, called her back with great enthusiam, and received her, when the appeared, with a roar of "hurrahs." In the midst of the burst of applause a clear melodious warb lin" was heard. The hurrahs were hushed instantly. And vve saw the lovely singer ktanding w ith her arms Slightly extended, somewhat bowing forward, graceful as a bird on its branch.warbling, warbling as no bird ever did, from note to note and on every one a clear, strong, and soaring warble until she fell into the retournrlle of her last song, and ngdn sang that joy ful and touching strain MXo thought can conceive how I teel at my heart." She has now accomplished the good work to which her latest songs in Sweden have been devoted, and she is again to leave her native laud to sing to a far re mote people. She is expected this year in the United States of America, and ber ar rival is welcomed with a general feeling of joy. All bave heard ot ber wiiose nisiory wo have now slightly shadowed out the expected guest, s the poor little girl, of former days, the celebrated singer of now a-day, the genial child of Nature and Art, is Jennt Lind. LEWISBUKG, UNION CO., PA., JUNE 12, 1850. The Lonely Auld Yifs. BY JfUAV CliAMiiR. fit wan f.rnrly Cnnil I ! livr.- still Wrurtomwy m-n? tin.' unlives i,t .Hiilliili'l.w hi-Ti otiuof :iu at? tl ii'iip:! ities.tn It-am llH- -iu,r. hirb th,- iltivnM 1 ii-u i!ly u. u,i, J. in il .KTU-tnini'.l eru.T. until tin.- miriivor alw. i.u.. t rail, ! tu j.iu iu former wi-upunt iu tlu or.d ol . j.mi.-J H. :t- th.' olil Iwnrtli tin- fcatli r!u-rih'il fur IX', MK iit pud fiiU Uk- ijui.! Aulil V, Jo : Time h;it!i Ivft many a tr:v .n I..-r l-.x, Kut ;riprhiitli m.t trr.iiUid h r f.irit till new. There ape u.irs in her ryi tliat an diiu ilU a, Autl Pitt' loiikcth in rain on the holy ui?e l-'or jho can not eoe &u:;it !nt an '-.'It chair, Th.it vacant and loin ty nt taud:i:g there. a;.-o, wli.-n h-r luiai wa tw.ttin iTt 1-rf-le, The Lonely Aula if; was a pay young l-ri.lc Aii-1 the ro.e on her iheek wore iL rielt Mimia, A le-n htie puve lux hand to the juyoui t;rj.iii. Failed and w-rn itf her beauty now Cray aie ttie hairs on lier wriokled brow Silent fhe f'.U liy the old h arlh-t"U Sad are her thoutitu she i ti.LPe alone. Her irud man is j-onf to Lis (ireauitefS r-'it, And the Tw-ely Anl J Wife hath trouMe.l tirt ast Yet not for tho world wouid she hanieh away The cu'r he btll t-'at iu f'.r niauy a day. &'m njieaVeth not, rave with a trembling I rea'h, Hut kopetli, and waitetli, and j rayeth for death FT joyless and dark are the days of her life, When the gud man is gone from the Lonely Auld Wife. THE LOXKI.Y AVI.D UUPEMAX. A Counterpart of the rpeeedin; lly tue fame Author. Treuibliup and slowly the ftudeman goea To lay liw auid Wile iu her lat repow, And the cold clod are heuiud ou her a;red l'reaft With a sound that is breaking his neareful rest, lie hath laid her down where no eye can come, -4ud !oui.Iy and cheerier u now his home : For ffty years rhe hath ."o.ithed his cap-, ADd cheerily 1-orue of Lis woes her share. He had wou her lure hen his step was gay, And his voice was clear as a child's at play, And his Lianty form was a I:-a5ant sight When Iv led her forth on their bridal night. He leanetb nuw on his stalwart cane, And his voice is that of a child again, And it seems not true that the once gay grrnm Is the trembling form at the auld Wile's tooth. Sadly Tie poen to his home again, And lie triei to sn,ile, but he tries in Tain For a tear creeps up in his -i;heo-dere, And his auld heart breaks with a mournful .-ig!i. His life is now as a trouMcd dn-am Yet pearct-ty of life do his actions seem : And happy, thr:y happy, that h.ur l all !, AVhcu the (iudcnian s"ul at last fhall he free. Truth, well said. Christianity has doctrines and dutie-t which relato particularly to our fellow J being?, which form its moral and social side ; and it has doctrines and duties which relate particularly to God, which form its spiritual tide, and comprehend directly whatever relates to our personal salvation. These together form its com pleteness. It can not be truly embraced without embracing both. It is possible', however, to embrace its social and moral side alone, and to exhibit herein great beauty of character ; like the young ruler who propounded to our Savior the impor tant question, " Good Master, what good thing shall I do that I may inherit eterni.l life?" It is possible, also, to embrace its i spiritual side alone, as far as the profession of a creed is concerned. Now thcie sre many rnen,who,owing to the fortunate circumstances e f th -r c-J'icn-tion, are the stern believers in an orthodux creed, while violating every beautiful cha rity of life. And these men claim to themselves great merit for their dogmatic faith, although it be a " failh without works." There are other men, who, owing, per haps, to the equally unfortunate circum stances of their education, are building on a false foundation their hopes of eternal life, whiledistinguished for amiable tempers.and generous and efficient morality in the ordinary walks of life. It would be an unwise preference which should attach us in kinder bonds to the former than to the latter. The one has ! faith without virtue. The other has virtue without faith. The one professes to believe according to the most orthodox standard, but breathes no atmosphere of holiness. The other believes at least in social virtue, and is true to his belief. The last is the finer and nobler character. Both are essentially deficient. Christian Charity will estimato their defects impartially ; and will neither allow herself to be imposed upon by the proud assumption of unproductive orthodoxy, nor to be led away from the just proportion and momentous value of the spiritual side of religion, by those kindly virtues which she prizes, but which, nevertheless, when they stancrwonp, show that one thing still is wanting. N.Y. Evangelis'. Thorough Culture. Tis folly in the eitrrme to till Extensive field and till them ill. The farmer pleased, ma; boast aloud Hia bushel sown, hit acres plowed. And, pleased, indulge the cheering hope That time will bring a plenteous crop. Shrewd common sense sits laughing by, Anj sees bis hopes abortive die; For, when maturing seasons smile. Their sheave shall disappoint hi toil. Advisrd, this empty pride expel Till little and that little well ; Of taxing, fencing, toil, no more Your ground requires when rich than poor ; And more one fertile acre yields, Than the huge breadth of barren Eelds." Nothing so tyrannizes one as the hnbil of jesting and contempt, real or assumed Success in the use of sarcasm and ridicule rarely fails to make it practice more fre quent and its application more wide' than is either jutiiiable in itself or agreeable to listeners. " - To love one that is great is almost lo be areat one's self. Madame Neckcr. Die mi of a Stir. There was once n child, and h"? strolled about n good d-i, uu i thought of a num !i r of things. If-; had it sister, who was i child ton, and his constant companion. I'liese two used to waller all the day long. They wondered l the beauty ol'the lhtwers; ihey wonJ'-red at the hoight and bljeness nf the t-ky ; they wondered at ihe bright water ; they wondered at the goodness and and the power oi'G.iJ, w ho made the love ly vtor'.d. They used to say to one another, some times : Supposing nil children upon earth were to die, would the flower?, and the w a ter, and the slty, be sorry ? They believed they would be sorry. For, said they, the buds are the children of the tlowc rs.and the little nlavful streams that gambol down the hill-sides are the children of the water ; and the small. st bright Ej eeks, playing at hide-and-seek in the sky all nigh', must surely be the ch llren of the stars; and they would all be grieved to see their phiy mates, the cbildien of n.eii, no more. There was one clear shining strr that used to come cut in the sky before the rest, near the church spire, above the graves. It was larger and more beautiful.they thought, than all tho others, and every night they watched for i', standing h:ind in hand at a window. Whoever saw it first, cried out, "I see tho star ! ' And ofte n they cried out I both together, knowing f-o well when it wji-ld rise, and wher". So they grew to he such friends with it, (hut, before lying down in their beds, they always looked out once mori?, to bid it good night ; and when they were turning round to slepjthey used to say, "God bless the star 1" But while she was still very young, oh, very, very young, the sis'cr drooped, and came to be so weak that fche could no lon ger stand in the window at night ; and her brother looked sadly out by himself, and whi n he saw the star, turned round, nr.d sal J to the patient, pale face on the brd,"l sle the star!"' and then a sile would come upon tha face, and a little weak voice used to say, "God bless my brother. and the star 1" And so the time came ail too soon! w hen tho child looked out alone, and when there was no face on tha lx:d ; and when there was a little grave among the grave?, not there before ; and w hen the star made long rays down towards him, at he saw it thro' bis tears. Now.thcse rays were so bright.and they seemed to.make such a shining way from earth to Heaven, that when the child went to his solitary bed, hj dreamed about the star ; and dreamed th tt, lying where he was he saw a trtiin of people taken up that sparkling road by angel. And the star, ipiMiing, show eel in i ri a great woria oi llht, where many more such angels w si ted to receive them. All these angels, who were waiting, turned their beaming eyes upon the people who were carried up into the star ; and some came out from the long rows in which they stood, and fell upon the people's neck and kissed them tenderly, and went away wiiii them dow n avenues of light, and w ere so hapiy in their company, that, lying in his bed he wept for joy. But there were many angels who did not go with them, and amoug them cno he knew. The patient face that once had lain upon the Led was glorified and radiant, but his heart found cut his sister among a. I he host. His sixer's angel lingered rear the en trance of the star, and sard to the K-tder niong those who brought the people thith r : 'Is my bro'hef come 1" And he said, "No." She was turning hopefully away, when the child stretched out his arnu, and cried, 0, sUter, I am here! Take me!-' and then sheturneJ her beaming eyes upon him, and it was night ; and tho star wag shiniii; into tho room, making long rays down low ards him as he saw it through his tears. From that hour forth, the child looked out upon the star as on the Home he was to go to, when his time should come ; and he thought that h'i did not belong to the earth alone, but to the star too, because of his srster's ancl gone before. There was a baby born to be a brother to tho child ; and n hile he was so little that he never yet had spoke a word.h'i stretched his tinv form out on his bed, and died Again lite child dreamed of the opened star, and of the company of angels, and the train of people, and the rows of angels with their beaming eyes all turned upon those people's faces- Said his sister s angel to the leader : "Is my brother come V And he said," Not that one.but another.' A the child beheld his brother's angel in hcr arms, he cried, "O, sister I am here Tcku me !" And she turned and smiled upon him, and the star was shin'ng. He grew to be a young man, and was busy at hi book 37 when an' d! servant came to him and said : ... 'Thy motricr is no more.' . 'f'fcg her blessing on hcr darling son:" Again at night he saw the star, end all that former company, b ud his siMcr s an i;el to the leader : "Is my brother come V And he said, "Thy mother!" A mighty cry of joy went forth through all the star, because the mother was re-tin ted to her two children. And ho stretched out his arms and cried, "O, mother, sister, and brother. 1 am here! Take me !" And thpu nrwuered him. "Not vet," and the star was shining. lie ircw lo be a man whae hair was Itirninrr nrPt' find he was sitting in his o v - chair by the fireside, heavy with grief, and with his face bedewed with tears, when the the star opened once agam. Said his sister's angel to the leader : "Is my brother come V "And he said, "Nay, but his maiden daughter." And the man who had been the child, saw his daughter, ne.vly lost to him ce leatinl creature, among' those three, and he said, "My daughter's hea l is on my sis ter's bosom, and hrr arm is 'round my mo ther's neck, and at her feet there is the ba by of old tim", and I can bca'r the parting from her. God be praised !" And the star was shining. Thus the child came to be an old man, and his once smooth face was wrinkled, and his steps were slow and fe.b!e, and his back was bent. And one night as he lay upon his bed, his children standing 'round. ho cried, as he had cried so long ago : ' I see the star !" They whispered one cnclher, "lie is dy ing." Ai.d he said, "I am. My age is failing from me like a garment, and I move tow ards the star as a child. And O, my Fath er, now I thank thee that it has so often opened to receive those dear ones who a'.vait me !" And the star was shining ; and itshir.es upon his grave. Dickens. Parents and Children. It is said that when the mother of Wash ington was asked how she had formed the character of her son, she replicj that she had early endeavored to teach him three things : obedience, -diligence and truth. No letter advice can be given by any pa rents. Teach your children to obey. Let it be tho first lesson. You can hardly be g'n to soon. It requires constant care to keep up the habit of obedience, and especi ally to do it in such a way as not to break down the strength of the child's character. Teach your children to be diligent. The habit of being always employed, is a great safe-guard through life, a3 well as essential to the culture of almos-t every virtue. Nothing can be nioro foolish then an idea which parants have, that it is not respec table to set their children to work. Play is a good thing ; innocent recreation is an employment, and the child may Icarn early to be useful. As to truth, it is the one essential thing. Let everything else le sacrificed rather than that. Without it, w hat dependence can you place in your child? And be sure to do nothing your self which may countenance any species f'f prevarication or falsehood. Ytt how many parents da teach their children the first lesson of deception. England. The Liverpool Mail indulges in the most sombre views as to the stato of England. It says "We are sorry to say that we continue on the sliding scale downicards! We wish we could, but in honesty we can not, hold out any hopes to those whose for tunes are embarked, and their families de pcndent,upon tho profits of native industry. All is gloom, uncertainty, and dismay. In every part ol the country the generous im pulses of charity arc chilled, and, if things remain as they arc many months longer, many of our long cherished institutions must be closed -for lack of funds. The foreigner is robbing England as a privi leged pirate ; and, although we have sev enteen millions of bullion in the Dank of England, it is of no more use to the na tion than seventeen millions of bushels of sand." (!) Tliink of It! Little Things go a great way lo r.iake life what it is. We ought to study them more. If a kind word that costs nothing, will give pleasure, especially to thofo who have but little pleasure, why is it not well to have a kind word always ready to be given f II an act of friendship will make a sad heart light for an hour, why not be ready, when it is so easy, to scatter pleas ure in the path ol life ? This is called a "vale of tears," and" so it is, for sin has blighted flowers and planted thorns;' but the vale would be brighter, and there would be fewer tears, if those who have it in their power to mik9 others happy, without de priving themselves of a single joy, would try to shed blessings about them as they journey towards heaven. Tha meanest man we ever heard of, was ono who wis too stingy to put" bait on his Life In California. . I A letter from Mr. denrgc Holmes, a member of the Mallory California Compa ny, of Fall Uiver, Mat.s.,to Mr. J.F.R-iyns-ford, of that pluce, puMiihr-'i in the 'Tail River Weekly News," of May 10, contain ing among other things, the following pain fully interesting particulars of the death of Arthur W. Fkick, Ki., son of Ceorg Frick,Esq.,of Danville. Mr. Holmes says : "One other occurience I will nr;r.'ien, an I I have done. About tin: middle of last November I took a walk otic Sunday down the main stream about two miles, I know not for what. 1 came to an old Mexican bush tenl, with the top covered with raw hides, and open in front. I fount! a man there sick, evidently in the last stage of consumption. I asked nun how long ne had been there, but he could not tell ; lie had teen left alone but a few days. The Mexicans had tnk'jri care of him while they stayed, but had left for homd. I cut him some wooJs, and helped cook some rice, and promised him I would visit him the next day, which 1 did every day for two weeks. We had two men sick at our tent, or I should have moved him right there. When Capt. Sherman and J. ISnflington left for the ship, I hired a man to move him to my lent, much to the annr.yance of Goodrum. He rode on a horse and did not bring all of his thing, and before I went after them they were stolen. He charged eight dollars to move him. The removal overcame him very much. I made him as comfortable as the situation would adrr.it. He seemed to fail very fast the second night. I thought him dying. I told him what I thought of his case ; that if he had anything to communicate, I would try to fulfil his order, lie said his nnire was A. W.FciCK.nf Danvdle, I'a. He gave me his purse, which contained ISO dollars in gold dust, with which he wanted to pay his ex penses. He had a gold fever watch left with Wm. Iiigging, in Puebl?, which he wished to 20 to his father. He had provi sions stored in Stockton, which he wished to his brother, who w r:s in this country at some of the mines. He requested me to write to him and direct to San Francisco, which I did, but have never received any answer from him. He seemed to revive, and the next morning I procured a Doctor, but all to no purpose. I watched over him and did all I could to make him comforta ble, but ha lingered until the fnurth day, when at 9 o'clock, A. M , on the 2d;h of November, 184D, he departed this life without a groan or struggle. I procured boards, after mnch trouble, at one dollar a foci, to make him a ceffir. I paid a car penter one ounce to make it, and a cent a piece for the nails. paid the Doctor one ounce for his visit. 1 gave him a decent burial. It was all that I could do. His remains sleep at ihe foot of a large pine tree, on the side of a mountain in Maripo sa valley, about half a miie below Col.Fre- moril'i camp. Peace to his ashes !" Makins Hasto to ret Rich. One great and growing sin of our natio nal character is an inordinate desi.-a to get rich in a hvmj. As wealth is the only aristocracy in America, every man seems bent on attaining to that important distinction. Competency is not enough with the majority ; every ene seems am bitious of being a Crcssus. Tho "hasto to get rich," fosters a speculative spirit, than which nothing can be more generally fatal to the individual, or demoralizing to tho Slate. Tired cf slow giins, dVjpising the laborious ascent up the steop cf fortune, men rushhap-hazard into the fchemcs for the sudden acejtiisition cf wealth. Bubbles are blown, consequently, all around us. To-day there is a great speculation in this thing, as yesterday it was in that, and as ! to-morrow it will be in something else. A few, by a lucky turn of the card, make fortunes, but the great mass of the players stake and lese their all. What can be more fatal to society than such practices ? The man who amasses wealth thus sudden ly rarely retains it, while his momentary success lures thousands to the sime delu sive pursuits. Honorable labor is, there fore, almost despised ; a man of parts is expected to be above hard labor. The Gold Hirtes vs. Lead Hines. A writer in the Nutiemal Intelligencer makes the following statement : "Whether these gold mines will prove orofitablo to the country. is a doubtful ques. tian. Already are the iead mines of tho West neglected : the miners having run eff in search of a more tempting metal, which has caused advance in lead, and it is now imported from Spain in large quantities. Sperm candles have advanced materially, because a great many ships have been withdrawn Irom tho whaling business to enn&ce in the California trade, to say no- ofl thine of the neglect of other brancnc3 business consequent upon the immense em igration to the shores of the Facihc. Great works are performed, not by jtrc'pgtri; tut by perseverance. Volume VII, Ntwiter 11. Whole Nuater 323. Coatent. " Content consis'eth not in adding more fuel, but taking awiy rrore fire." Who Slid that ? r'r whoever sa d if' we should be glad to take him by the hanrl of good-fell twship. Yes, it is the grand secret of being con'ented and happy, not to add more fuel to the f.re of your wishes- and desires not to ir.creass the :n:snsity 1 of your outlays and extravagances but to take nway the superfluities of the fire and to contract the circle. More than one half of the miseries unspoken pechanc?, tuf the most bitter of mkcries which affect th3 social family, arise from .nglcit of the advice conveyed nbove. Learn to live' upon little ay, learu to I'wj upon les--, if the larg'i expenditure constricts you witf cramps and with sorrows. Ce not goadeT beyond the reach of contentment by a' fearorthe world's rye let not a dread of others spur you into a pace that goes be yond your strength and compass, H"t move onward iu a way that is really r.grea-' able and plt-asant to yourself; for of all the cares that gnaw away the life, prcun:-' ary cares eat the deepest into the setul, in their sad rea'ity ; and in all the show, parade, foppery and display that we can indulge, there is no compensation for the miseries they may engender. Never t9 ashamed of br ing poor nay, make it a matter of pride to utter the avowal that yorj are so whenever a reason may be required why you can not move side by side with the more fortunate. " I can not afford it, is a declaration that commands respect I' the most silly will not dare to sneer at it and if thy do thus sner, who cares for such sneering? A'rafs Gazette. A Word to Young Plea. Wishing and sighiog.imagiuing and drea ming of greatness(said Wiilicra Wir) will not mako you great. But can not a ycung man command his energies ? Read Foster on Decision r.f Character, ihat book will tell you what il is in your power to accomplish. You must gird up ycur loina Vand co to work w'nh all the indomitable! energy of Napoleon scaling the Alps. It is your duty to make the most of time, talent, and opportunities. Alfred, king of lingland, though 3 per formed more business than any of Lis sub jects, alve tys fo'.'pd time to study. Fran.' n, in the midst of his labors, had time to dive into the dcpihs of philosophy, andexpitire an untrodden path of science. Frederick the Great with ca empire a;, his direction, in the midst of war, and on the eve of battle, found time to revel in 'h charms cf philosophy zod feast on the lux uries of science. . Napolt-on, wiihEurr.pa at hia disposal with kings at his ante-chamber, and at the head of thousands of men, whose destinies were suspended on his nrbitary pleasure, found time to convers3 wiih books. And young men who are confined to la bor cr business even twelve bouts a day. may t ike an hour and a half cf what ia left, for study, and which will amount tc two months in the course of a year. Tie Coffee Trade. A memori'il signed by nearly eighty of the principal houses in Loudon engaged in the cotlce trade, has been presented to the Lords of tha Treasury, stating the great abuses which exist ia tha adulteration of coffee, which is nt only mixed with chi-. cory, but also with a Jeleterious mixture of roasted noorn.', chesnuts, peas, and beans, red pottery tarih, sand, Biahcgany dust, coloring matters and filling, to the great injury of the fair deulers, the health of the consumer, and the !;ss of the reve nue. This latter :i estimated to bevwhen compared with 1840, no less than 162, 000, a:il with the year of maximum con- umption 1817, -.200,000. Chicory was,' until these last few years, caiy an article of import ; it is now largely grown in tho country, and being so j,rownt 13 nolsub'2CS ... 1 ." t - . i to any tluty. u nai tne memorialists ass that coffee adulterated with chicory shall no longer ba sold a colTec ; they do not wi.th to interiere with the b na nao n'eof chicorv . but they wish the consu- mer t purchase coffee and his chicory separately, that he nny know exactly what he is using. All for Unioa. The Washington correspondent of tho New York Express, under the date of M iy 23 1, ays : Theri waa s. pswge at arm in the Senate to day brtceen Mr. Soulc of Louisiana and Mr. Clay, which partook of the sublime. Mr. Clay spoke as if under standing Mr. Souls as specking of disunion as a consequence cf defeat upon these sub jects. 91 r. Soute sprang to ms mi, nuu in a voice and altituda wnici siariica the Senate, proclaimed , "That he had never uttered such an - . . aVT . i .1 O... Ik opinior. isever: iho, noi u iaa auun. were beaten at every point, epd the North triumphed completely, in this legislative contest : 1 would not men oegm ' of disunion. The peop- do not think of it." . The r-allcries rang with applause at ths elcctric outburst. Mr. Clay paused and 'sat down, auJ the Stcatc aJjournee!. -
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers