UL v j Volnme TH, Wtunter 36, ( Whole number 348. LEWISBURG, UNION CO., PA., DEC. 4, 1850. & 0. fflCKOK, Editor. 0. N. WOE-DEW, Printer. LEWIS BURG GifiONICM. The Lewlabarg-ChroaiclCM iuJ ,,j Wadaexlay morning at Lcwiaburg, t'qioo taunty, Pennsylvania. Tiasis. 1 1.50 per year, far cash actually in advaocs; $1.75, paid within ihrea months; $2 U paxl within the year ; $2.50 if not paid before ihe .ear eipiree ; single uuoibers, 5 cent. Sub ecriptions for six months or less to be aid in a J vane. Diecontiooancee optional with the Publisher except when the year ia taid up. Advcrtisroienla handsomely inserted at 50 eta per aquare one wrrk. $1 for a month and $5 for year; a reduced price for longer advertisements. Tao sqasres, $7; Mercantile advertisements not neeeding one-fuartb of a column, quarterly, $10. t.'asttal advertisement and Job work to be paid tt when handed in or drlitered. All communications by mail must come post paid, accompanied by the address of the writer, to receive attention. Those relating eiclurively to the Editorial Department, to be directed to H. C. KicKfiK. Esq , Edilur and all ou business to be addressed to the 1'ublither. OlGce, Market St. between Second and Third. O. N. WORD EN. Publisher. Honrs. The boors are viewless angels. That still go gliding by. And brar each moment's record up To Him who sits on high. The poison or the nectar. Our hearts' deep flower-cups yield, A sample dill they gather awilt And leave us in the Geld. And some fly by on pinions Of gorgeous gold and blue. And some fly in wiih drooping wing Of sorrow' darker hue. And as we spend eaeh minute That God to us hath given. The deeds are known before His throne The tale is told in heaven. And we, who walk among them, As one by one departs. Think not that tbey are hovering For ever 'round our hearts. Like summer-bees that hover Around the idle flowers, Thry gsther every act and thought These viewlese angel hours. AnJ still they ateal the record, And bear it far a ay ; Their mission light, by day or night, No magic power can stay. 6s teach me. Heavenly Father ! To spend esch flying hour, That, as they go. they may not ehOA- My heart a poison flower. Preventive of Consumption. The common fault of all consumptive is, they give up too easily, nod abandon the fortress of life before the eoemy has had lime to sap or undermine its founda tions. I believe consumption, taken in iis first stage, is as curable as a corn or sore linger. Gymnastic exercise, riding, sail ing, amusement, society, abandonment of thinking and intellectual pursuits, a culti vation of the mere animal part, which is I he only part that ever fail in such disea ses, each and all of these remedies would be in most cases, a sovereign and perma nent cure. But the consumptive invariably neglects them, and clls on the doctor with hi multitudinous compounds, mopes in ihe lick chamber when he should be out under the blue sky, basking in the sunshine, and inhaling the fresh, invigorating wind lies in bed, when he should be wrestling, run nir.jr and climbing up the rough peaks of the mountains. If our American people only knew the value of physical exercise, and improved their knowledge, as the voice of Nature dictates, they would not be the sickly, care worn, haggard and feeble race they are at present. Nine out of every ten men and women, in the new world, espe cially in large towns and crowded cities, re nothing but walking corpses, galvan ized into a kind of spasmodic life, by ne cessity and love of gain. The mechanic, in his dusty and close workshop; the seamstress plying her needle ; the mer chant drudging over his ledger, deep in Ihe mysteries and miseries of profit and loss, all are more or less self-murderers. Labor without rest and repose labor as understood amongst us, is but a life long suicide ! Ilolden's Magazine. A Yorkshire Ostler. A company, whilst regaling themselves with a g'ass and pipe one night, not long since, in the M. P. public house, Long Pres ton, were speaking of our beloved Queen and her royal consort. Prince Albert, when the folio ing colloquy took place: Ostler at the inn : " How long is it since Prince Albert was crawned P One of the compa ny : "WhoaP Ostler: " Isn': Prince Albert t' Queen !" One of the company : No." Oatler, rather knowingly : " Yah he is, she was crawned Queen hawiver when I was hoos'lio near Bingley. I know vary weel, for we had pudding an' beef all abait Bingley : hi begow ! we might ha' brosens if weed lik'd." (Laugh tor.) One of the company : Thou means Queen Victoria." Ostler : Na I don't, they call'd her Prince Albert hawiver. Oae of the company : Indeed, but you'll mean Victoria was crowned Qveen." O.t ler: " Whia er the both t' same!" One of the company : Yes, in one sense ; they re man and wile." Ostler : Well, which t' Qieen ?" One of the company : "Vie torn." Ostler : 44 Whia, begow, I alios thou't l" Queen an' Prince Albert both l' ame." Lws (Eng.) Intelligencer. Law, like a razor, require a "strong m o ,, nne8Sl od n excellent temper. N.B. Many of those who pet once "shaved with ease and expedition," seldom risk a second operation. For the Lewiabarg Chronicle. S3 M3ED2. BT "NOTTS." Oally sins voices rinc we are o'er the billows boawllnf, Lijht and free as the sea fcarlngaot the tempest sounding; let the gale rip the sail mirnatr'-T high our barque sr rounding ; Still om Oexaa's dark bins deck oar hearts will nam; Surges sh timber crash om the briny deep we're rocking, Echoes roar on the shore waves around oar ship are Socking, Winds auy bowl elowis may scowl proudly Isn tor- sdoes mocking, Kever will we ecase to love our Ocean Uoma. Through the spray, dance away o'er the rippling aurfaca gliding, Neat and trim, oa we skim, pent-up joys oa land deriding; Let the breese sweep the seas, with the trusty pilot guiding, Bid farewell to silver spire and gilded dome ; Noble erew cry adieu friends and loved ones all must fc-ave u" ; Silent tears trembling fears aching bosoms mast not grieve us. Though the heart Seels the smart, broad Atlantic's am receive us; Never will we cease to love our Ocean Uoma. O'er the world, flag unfurled, with our starry banner streaming, On we speed none to heed nought of hidden danger dreaming ; Swift and free, full of glee, like a radiant meteor streaming, We will ride the mountain wave aad drink ita foam ; Storms may rave o'er our grave midnight shades around i closing; Winds may oca all be peace Neptune oa his pillow dozing, YDc we tread o'er the dead, with our hope above repotting, Never wiU we eeane to love our Ocean Uome. Lswusiaa, Nov. 1W0. Trom the Chriatian Watchman k Reflector. ROMANCE IN REAL LIFE. BY OLD JACOB. lam not quite up to telling stories like the following, dear reader, but I was ao much interested in the facts presented be low, that I feel almost sure of engaging your attention while I proceed to lay them before you. You must let me tell you the story in my own way ; you may rely up on it as substantially true. The real names of the parties concerned I have con cealed. In one of the largest of our commercial cities there lived a few years since, a rich old merchant by the name of Bremen. He was considered "good," ia mercantile phrase, for half a milliou" or so. Now, he hid not acquired all this by any sudden and unaccountable freaks of fortune, but by a long and persevering course of indus try. He had attended closely to his busin ess, had practised the most rigid economy, had been punctual to bis engagements, had dealt honestly with buyers and sellers, had entered into no hazardous speculations.and, though he hd met disappointments and re verses, like many others, he found himself at the sixty-third year of his age, ia pos session of an annual income of some thirty thousand dollars. The residence of Mr. B. was, at the commencement of his mercantile career, not far from his store ; but as time is con tinually bringing about changes, he event ually took his abode "up town,'' some two or three miles from the turmoil of business. He was one of the most regular of man kind ia all his habits. At just such an hour he ate his breakfast, took his ivory headed cane in hand, threaded his way either on foot or in a "'Bus'' through the great tho roughfare of the city, and presented him self to his clerks and porters. At just such an hour he entered his domicile.to re pose and refresh himself after the toils of the day. Our old friend was regarded by some as rather odd in his ways. He generally talked but little, yet always to the point. He haled long stories with perfect hatred, and was more than once koowu to inter rupt an agent ia his rehearsal of the wants ol come benevolent society, by placing a lea or twenty dollar bill over his mouth, and then turning quietly around to his desk. Nobody found fault with him for such things. "It was Paul Bremen's way," people said, every one has his peculiarities. At home, he had a way of looking his wants, which was perfectly understood by his Irish servant. At some expression of countenance, James would say to himself, "Faith, and that means the shoes I've blacked," or, "And now he is wanting the great coat," or "Sure, he's looking the umberall a rainy day it's to be." The old gentleman was not morose, or sour ; he was simply a silent sort of man, saying no mote than was really necessary (or the transaction of the business of life. What a short session a Congress of such men would make ! (I throw in this observation gratis.) The house of Mr. B. was rather a mod est looking tenement.considering his income and the expectations of a certain class of people called the world," though it com prises in reality only a very small portion of mankind. It was large enough.he said, for himself and daughter an only child, reader, and the only tenant of his real fine dwelling, besides himself and servants. Years had passed away since I be wife and mother bad departed. She bad time, bow. ever, to sow good seed in a good soil ; and as the daughter grew op into lite, tbe fruits of a Christian mother's care and prayers were seen in all their richness and beauty. And now, after this general introduc tion, I must make you more particularly acquainted with Annie Bremen. Of course you will want to know a great many things about her, and I will do my best to afford you satisfaction. I can not tell you whether her eyes were black, blue, or grey ; whether she was of a dark or light complexion. People differ so much as to what and who may be call ed beautiful, that I shall Lot undertake to express any opinion in regard to this mat ter, so far as Annie is concerned. Those who knew her best said that she was beau tiful very beautiful ; but they were her very partial friends. Of one thingl am cer tainshe was good f and if beauty and goodness are synonymous terms, (which some will deny.) then she was beautiful. She was good she was a sincere Christ ian tbe highest form of goodness in this world. Like her father, she was accounted something of an oddity, but not by those who were well acquainted with her. That J she should move ia the spheres of the mil-1 lionaires and half millionaires, and yet manifest anything like a Christian charac ter, would by some be accounted sufficient ly odd without anything else to add to it. One who well knew human nature, once said, that they who had riches entered the kingdom of God "hardly." But Annie had entered it, and thus fulfilled those oth er words which fell from the same hps.that "with God all things are possible." That she should be no slave of fashion, that she should dare to dress to suit herself, that she should look lar beyond the circle in which her father's wealth had placed her, out into the wide world, and in the midst of ber own plenty to think of others' pov erty ; in abort, that she should be a really sensible, serious minded girl, may be regar ded as a thing that one does not see every day. It is true, she went out into fash ionable society; she mingled with the gay crowd that assembled in the halls of wealth; but there were also the poor and the needy, who, as often as they thought of her, (and that was not seldom,) exclaimed, "Bless her kind soul !" She might be seen al most daily to enter the dwelling of poverty, and dispense kind words and smiles, worth far more, after all, than the silver and gold which she always carried with her and all this without ostentation. Her father, who bad some idea of her habits in connec tion with these matters, was well content ed to let her become his almoner, as he said to himself. He gave her most fieely all that she asked of him, without so much as a single question as to the use to be made of it. There seemed to be a tacit understanding between them, in regard to this. Annie possessed a mind well cultivated. She had read much, and thought much ; and though not learned, she was intelligent, and io company might usually be found, as a sort of natural attraction, tn conversation with the most intelligent gentlemen pres ent. Annie had arrived at the mature age ot (do not start, reader !) twenty-seven, and was yet in a state of single blessedness. Somehow or other, she had not even fallen in love, as yet. "Had she no offers ?" What a 8impIetjuestion ! Did you ever know half a million of dollars to go a beg ging ! Offers 1 yes, scores of them. It may be accounted as one of her oddities, but whenever the subject happened to be touched upon by her father, Annie would say that she wanted some one who could love her for hertelf, and she must have the assurance of this and how could she, io her present position f How could she know positively that herself was sought, and not the estate to which she was sole heiress T If she could only be divested of everything but what she was in herself ; if she could actually be poor ah ! she often tho't thus. If you please to call this a mere whim, so be it ; it kept ber single till her twenty-eighth year. The old gentleman did not urge the matter very strongly, as may be well supposed. A father is not likely, in his circumstances, to drive his daughter into matrimony, unless she wishes to en ter it herself. Thus matters stood, when Annie was led to form and to execute what will appear a very strange resolution ; but she was a resolute girl. We must now go back six years. One dark, rainy morning in November, as our old friend was looking composedly at the cheerful fire ia the grate of his counting-room, and really indulging in some serious reflections on the past and the future the far future, too a gentle man presented himself and inquired for Mr. firemen. Tbe old man uttered not a word, but merely bowed. There was that in bis looks which said, "I am he." The stranger might have been some thirty years, or so, of age. He was dress ed in black, a mourning weed was on his hat, and there was that in bis appearance which seemed to indicate that the fiiend whose loss be deplored bad but recently departed. The letter of introduction which be presented to Mr.B.wag quickly yet care fully perused, and as it was somewhat unique, I shall take the liberty of submitting it to the inspection of the reader : " , Nov. 80, 18. Friend Paul This will introduce to thee my friend. Charles Copeland. He has come to thy city in pursuit of business. I have kuown him from a youth up. Thoumayest depend on him for aught thnt he can do. and shall not lean as on a broken reed. If thou canst do anything for him, thou inayest, peradventuie, benefit thyself, and cause to rejoice "Thy former and present frfend, ''Micah Lootnis." "it is not every one can get old Micah Loomis' endorsement on his character," said Paul Bremen to himself, as he folded up the letter of a well-known associate of former days. "Old Micah is good for a quarter of a million, or for anything else it will do I want bim seems a sensible, business like man getting old business increasing must have some more help now us well as any time." The old gentleman looked all this, as he stooj gazing in perfect silence on !li': man before him. At length he opened his lips : "Mr-Copeland.you know all about books!"' I have bad some few yean' expert 'Any objection to a place here pretty close work thousand a year V' "None in the world." "When can you begin 1" "Now." A real smile shone upon the old man's face. It lingered there like the rays 'of the setting sun among the clouds of eve- nn. lighting up those seemingly hard, dark features. A stool was pushed to the new comer, books were opened, mat. ters expluined, directions given, the pen was dipped in the ink, and in short, before an hour had passed away you would have thought that the old man and the young man had known each other for years. In reference to our new friend, it will be sufficient to remark that he had been liber ally educated, as the phrase goes, and tho' he had entered early into business, he had not neglected the cultivation of his mind and heart. He had found time to che rish a general acquaintance with the most noteworthy authors of the day, both litera ry and religious, and with many of pu&t times. After a few years of success iu the pursuits to which he bad devoted himself. misfortunes came thick and fast upon bim. Ho found himself left with scarcely any property, and alone in the world, save hi two daughters. He was soon settle J in the great city to which he had betaken himself, and lived in a very quiet way with his interesting charges, who were fast growing up into life. How many sweet and pleasant evenings did he enjoy in his not very spacious but neat and comfor table dwelling, after the toils of the day of business were over ! As, year after year passed away, he grew steadily in the confidence of his em ployer, who felt though he said it not, that in him he possessed a treasure. Very little indeed was said by either of them not con nected with the routine of business, and there had been no intercouse whatever save in the counting-room. Thus six years went by, towards the close of which period old Bremen was found looking with much fre quency and earnestness at the younger man before him. Something was evident ly brewing in that old head. What coulJ it be ? Aud then, too, at home he looked so curiously. The Irish servant was puz zled. "Sure,''said James"someihing's com ing that's clear as a glass of whiskey.'' Annie too was somewhat perplexed, for these lobk$ dwelt much upon her. "What is it, father' she said to him one morning at the breakfast lab'e, as he sal gazing steadfastly in her face ; "what is it t Do tell me." "I wish you'd have him,'' burst forth like an avalanche. ''Have known him for six year true as a ledger a gentleman real sensible man don't talk much regular as a clock prime for business worth bis weight in gold.'' "Have who, father! What are you talk ing about 1" "My head clerk Copeland you don't know him do haven't seen anybody else worth an old quill. Annie was puzzled. She laughed, how ever, and said, " Marry my futher's clerk what would people say V Humbug, child, all humbug worth forty of your whiskered, lounging, lazy gentry say ! say what they please what do I care 1 what do you care 7 what's money after all 1 got enough of it want a sensible man want somebody to take care of it all humbug." " What's all humbug, father 1" " Why, people's notions on these mat ters Copelaud's poor so was I once may be again world's full of changes seen a great many of them in my day can't stay here long got to leave you, Annie wish you'd like him." " Father, are you serious V M Serious, child T and be locked to. Annie was a chip of the old Mock a atronrr.minded. resolute cirl. A new idea o seemed to strike her. " Father, if you are really serious in this matter, I'll see this Copeland ; I'll get acquainted with him. If he likes me,and I like him, I'll have him. But be shall have me for myself alone ; I must know it. Will you leave the matter to me P " Go ahead, child ; do as you like. Good morning." " Slop a moment, father. I shall alter my name a little I shall appear to be a poor girl a compatiion of our friend Mrs. Richards, in II. street she shull know the whole affair you shall call me by my middle name, Pe ton I shall be a relation of yours you shall suggest the business to Mr. CopelanJ, as you call him, and ar range for the first interviuw. The rest will take care of itself. "I see, I see" and one of those rare smiles illumined hi whole face. It actu ally got between his lips, parted them asun der, glanced upon a set of teeth but little the worse for wear, and was testing ll.er: when he left the house for his counting room. The twilight of that smile was not yet gone when he reached the well known spot, and bowed and looked good morn ing" to those in his employ, for old Paul was afier his fishion a polite man. On the morning of that day what looks were directed to our friend Charles many so peculiar fuli of something that the head clerk could not but notice them, and that too with some alarm. What was coming 1 At last the volcano burst forth. " Copeland, my good fellow, why don't you gel a wife 2'' Hod a thunderbolt fallen at his feet, be could not have been more astounded. Did Mr. Bremen say that and in the counting room, too? The very legers seemed to blush, at the introduction of such a subject. He actually, for the first time, mude a blot on the fair page before him. " I say why don't you get a wife 7 know just the thing for you prime article, poor enough to be sure what of that 7 a fortune in a wife, you know a kind of relation of mine been thinking of it some time don't want to meddle in other peo ple' affairs know your own business best cati't help thinking you'll be happier must see her." Now the fact is, that Charles had for some time past thought so himself ; but how ihe old man should have so completely divined his feelings, was quite a puzzle to him. In the course of the day, a note was put into Mr. Bremen's band, by James, his Irish servant, the contents of which produced another grim sort of smile. When the moment for his return home ar rived, Mr. B. handed a sealed document, of a rather imposing form, lo Charles, say. ing, " Copeland, you'll oblige me by leav ing that at 67, II. street. Place it only in the hands of the persin to whom directed don't want to trust it to any one else." The clerk saw on the outside, "Jilrt. Richardt, 67, . ttreet." The door bell was rung. The servant ushered Copeland inio a smull, neat parlor, where sat a lady apparently twenty-five or thiiiy years of age, rather plainly dressed, engaged in knitting a stocking. Our friend bowed, and inquired fur Mrs. Richards. "Sho is not in, but is expected presently will you be seated V There was an ease, and quietuess.and an air of self-command abuut this person, which seemed pe culiar to Copeland. He felt at ease at once, (you alwas do with such people;) made some common-place remark, which was iiTinicdiaiely responded to ; then auother ; aud soon (he conversation grew so inter esting that Mrs. Richards was nearly for gotten. Her absence was strangely pro tracted, but at length she made her appear ance. The document was presented a glance at the outside. " Mr. Copeland !" Charles bowed. " Miss Peyton." The younger Isdy bowed; and thus they were introduced. There was no particular reason (or remain ing any longer, and our friend took his departure. That night Annie said to Mr. B., " I like his appearance, father.' " Forward march," said old Paul, and he looked at his daughter with vast satis faction. "The ould man's as swate to-night as a new potato," said James lo the cook. The next day, Charles Copeland came very near writing, several times, To Mi-s Peyton, Dr.," as be was making out some bills of merchandize sold. " Delivered the paper last evening V Copeland bowed. " Mrs. Richards ao old friend humble circumstances tbe young lady Peyton worth her weight in gold any day have ber myself if 1 could." " Ah, this is your prime article, Mr. Bremen.1 Tbe old man looked no one can tell bow he looked. When did a man ever fail to find pre texts to cultivate tbe acquaintance of a lady io whom be was interested f Copeland found himself quite often at 67, H. street. He was sometimes disappointed in not see ing Miss Peyton. , She was out, or had an engagement in another part of the city. He saw ber very frequently, however, and matters went on to the entire satisfaction of both parties. " How much you remind me of Mr. Bremen!'' said Charle, one evening, to Annie, "I think he said you were a relative of his.'' I am related to bim through my moth er,'' was the very grave reply. Mrs. Richards turned away to conceal a smile. Soniewhat later than usual on that night, Annie reached her father's house. There was no mistaking the expression of her countenance. Happiness was plainly writ ten there. " I see, I see," said the old man the account's closed books bal ancedhave it all through now in short order. You're a sensible girl no foolish puss just what I want bless you, child, bless you." Thenextdty old Paul came, for almost the first time in his life, rather late to his counting-room. Casks and boxes and books, seemed to be staring with wonder. Copeland, you're a fine fellow heard from Mrs. Richard proposal to my re lation Peyton all right done it up well Come to my house this evening never have been there yet, eh 7 8 o'clock pre cisely want to see you got something to say." " How much interest he seems to take in this matter !" said Charles. "He's a kind old fellow in his way a Utile rough, but good at heart." (Yes, Mr. Charles Copeland, even kinder than you think for.) At eight o'clock precisely, the door-bell of Mr. Bremen's mansion rung. Mr. Charles Copeland was ushered in by our friend James. Old Paul look him kindly by the hand, and.turning 'round abruptly, introduced bim to my daughter. Miss Annie Peyton Bremen," and immediately withdrew. " Charles, will you forgive me this 7" He was too much astonished to make any reply. " If you knew all my motives and feeling, I a-n sure you would.'' That the motive and feelings were soon explained to his entire satisfaction, no one ill doubt. " Copeland, my dear fellow," shouted old Paul, as be entered the room, " no use in a long engegement." " Oh. father !' No use, I say married now get ready afterward next Monday who cares 7 Want it over feel settled. Shan't part with Annie, though must bring your daughters here house rather lonesome no words be still must have it so partner in business Bremen &. Copeland got the papers all d awn up to daycan't alter it. Be quiet, will you 7 won't stay in the room." 1 have now finished my story, reader. I have given you facts. I can not say. however, that I approve of the deception practiced upon our friend Charles. As however, the Lord commended the " un just steward because he acted tcittly,' so I suppose the good sense shown by the young lady, in choosing a husband for the sake of what he was, and not for the sake of what he might have possessed, merits our approbation. It is not every one who has moral courage enough to step out of the circle which surrounds the wealthy, and seek for those qualities of mind and heart which the world can not give nor take away. The Gentle Word. A gentle word hath a magical power The weary breast to beguile. It gladdens the eye, it brightens the brow, And changes the tear to a oniiw; In the genial sunt bine it sheda around, The shadows of care depart. And ww leel in iU southing end friendly tons Xiwre's a balm Air the wounded hearL Obt watch tHoa, then, that thy lips ne'er breath A bitter, uneuUe word, lor that which is iurbtiy and felly said. Is often too deeply heard. And though foe tbe mourn l it leaves bo trace, (For prate will its woes conceal,) Beiaeniber, tbe aptrit that 'a oalu and U U Is always the lust to feel. It auy aot be tn thy power, perchaaor, To seewr a lofty plaoe. And blasoa thy name u) hi5tury paga As a friend to the human race, But oft in the daily tanks of hie. Though the world behold thee not. Thy kind and coaaalerate words may tooths A desponding brother's lot. T Is well to walk with a cheerful heart, Wherever our fortunes call. With a friendly glance, and aa open hand, And a gentle word fur all ; Sinoe life is a thorny and difficult path, Where toil is the portion of man. We all should endeavor, while msing along. To mafc it as smooth as we can. TrevortOB. This newly laid out town in Northum berland couuty, has improved with great rapidity. The Sunbury American.in speak, ing of this place, says thst at the letting of the Trevorton and Susquehanna railroad, on the 28tb of May last, the whole giound upon which the the town plot was laid, was a wilderness. With the mouniaina rearing their ragged heads upon each side, and the thick woods covering the little valley be tween them, it presented anything but a favorable aspect. A single log cabin was the only landmark of the place. Tbe sight which now breaks opon the eye as you descend the mountains, presents a beautiful and cheering contrast. Where waved the tofty forest, now ascends the wresthed smoke from nearly one hundred neat cot tages, and instead of the deathlike stillness that hung over the valtey, comes up tho clang of the workman's hammer.'he shouts of ihe carters, the rumbling of the loaded teams, and the thousand confused noises of a busy settlement. Up the mountain road labors a long train of wagons loaded wilts coat from the neighboring mines, and bound for the Susquehanna ; for tbe rail road is not yet finished, but the enterpri sing operators are determined to introduce their coal into market. Down the valley the line of rail road can be traced by tho knots of men and lines of carts engaged ia ex.ava'ion and embankment. Everything is full of life, and indicative of successful enterprise. The whole face of the country is changed, and one can scarcely recognise the spot. Progress and improvement are stamped wherever the eye rests. E!evea veins of pure coal lie ia tbe mountain south of the town, and the moun tain itself is divided to its base by Zerbe'a run, affording easy access to them oa either side of the stream. All of these have been proved, and several are bow being worked. This coal will find its way to the canal over the rail road now in pio gress, and thence to market. Trevorton has every advantage to become one of our most flourishing mining towns. Ita pros pects at present are very flattering. The I .'heat Indcstuial Ezuibitumi or 1851. Tbe London papers coauia aa engraving of the building now erecting for this, the World's Great Show, ll is lo be composed, principally, of glass and iron, and will be 1849 feet long, and 408 ft-t't broad, covering 13 acres uf ground. The roof will be supported by 3,230 hol low cast-iron pillars, from 14 to 20 leel long, each of which is a water conductor from tbe peculiar-shaped roof, which is composed of a succession of low ridges of glazed sash, which conduct the f-1 ling water into numerous wooden gutiers,wbieh discharge through the supporting pillars The centre of the immense structtua ia crossed by a transept 108 feet high.eneloe ing a row of large elm trees that stand ia the way, but are too large lo be removed and must not be destroyed. The glass used will weigh 400 tons, and covers 900.000 superficial feet. The roof and south side will be covered with canvass lo break the glare of the sun, which would otherwise be intolerable, even io smoky London. Besides the ground, walls, and roof, to exhibit articles upon, there will be a gallery 24 fecnt-Je, nearly a mile ia length, hich can oe increased if necessary. The cost of the buildibg completed, ia about $750,000. The cubic contents of this largest room ever built in the world, will be 33.000.000 feet. It is to be amply veuiilated. but what provision is msde for wanning it, does not appear. The space allotted for exhibition of articles from the United States is 85,000 superficial feet, which, large as it appears,will be found too small. Any information required by those desirous of becoming exhibiters, can be obtained from tbe Central Committee, at Washington. A Sabbath in New Orleans. The New Orleans Creccnt, in speaking of a recent Sabbath in that city, says thai the different places of worship were all thronged, and thousands listened, with deep solicitude, to the exposition of the Scriptures. We are happy to mark the changes which are taking place, from ytur to year, in New Oi leans, in regard io the observance of the Sabbath. It ia not long since Sunday was looked upon as the best day of the week for the diffe rent retail stores, and it was considered aa mu;h a business day as any other. Tis not so now. But few even of the small stores now keep open on the Sabbath, and the custom is looked upon with so much disfavor, that it will soon be entirely abol ished. Public opinion is becoming sirooyly set against the open violations of God's holy day, which have long prevailed ia New Orleans, and they must ere long be numbered among the customs that were. A Chapter of "Jennys!. New stores, and saloons, and hotels, are christened Jenny Lind ;" steamboats, locomotives, stages, and vehicles are " Jen ny's ; on Change they sell " Jenny -ee wheat; the spinning M Jenny" is eclipsed by this singing Jenny," st least for this M Jenny 'ration ; people delight in tracisf their "Jenny "alogy back into Swedeat all men seem to be studying verba in the Jenny "-live case ; Jenny "rosily ia a virtue no longer neglected even our only militia Major- Jenny "-ral has surrender ed to the queen ; fond mothers call theif babes, sportsmen their dogs and horses, farmers their cows and pigs, u Jenny J in short, "Jenny" is the Jeoay 'wfitt term for all these things, and for many more, " Jvntw fwi." r r 1 r r c
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers