ftI4t'ftt Lai. f. T t rn. .-. .J The whole art ok Government consists in the -art of being honest Jefferson. Jmerammmt if P i lllr 141" I 1 VOL 6. PRINTED. A NJX (PUBLl SHE Z) 1 F SCHOCff & SP13RKVG. ; TERMS-Two dollars per annum In attvance Two tlollare and a quarter,, half yearly and if not p-jid before the end of tue rear, Two dollars and a half. Tfiose who recrive their pipers by a earner ?r stage dnyer? employed by the proprie Jjrs,WiUbecharSed 37 l-2rt-. per vear, extra. So papers diseontirfiietf until all arrearage? are paid, except at the option of the Editors. r 4 ' njf Advertisements nit exceeding one square (sixteen lines) will be lascrted three w eek? for one dollar: twenty-five cents for every sobsequeni insertion ': larger ones in proportion. A liberal discount will be made to yearly advertisers nAll letters addressed to the Editors must be post paid. To all Concerned. We would call ihe attention of some of our subscribers, and especially certain Posi Mas iers, tolhe following reasonable,. and well set tled rules of Law in relation lo publishers, to the patrons of newspapers. the law of newspapers. 1. Subscribers who do not gie express no dee io the contrary, are considered as wishing lo continue ineir suosenpuons. 2. If subscribers order the discontinuance of their papers, the publishers may continue lo send ihem till all arrearages are paid. 3. If subscribers neglect or refuse to take their papers from the offices to which they are directed, they are held responsible till they have settled their bill, and ordered Jheir papers discontinued. 4. If subscribers remove lo other places wiih onl informing the publishers, and their paper is (P.nt to the former direction, they are held re tpnnsiblp. 5. The courts have decided that refusing Jo take a newspaper or periodical from ihe office, or removing and leaving it uncalled for, is "pri ma facie" evidence of intentional fraud. From the New York Tribune. A Farewell to Ole Bull. Br ANKR C. LYNCH. There was a fountain in my heart Whose deeps had not been stirred A thirst for music in my soul My ear had never heard. A feeling of the incomplete To all bright things allied A sense of something beautiful, Unfilled, unsatisfied. But, waked beneath '.h)" master-band, Those trembling chords have given A foretaste of that deep, full life That I shall know in Heaven. In that resistless spell, for once The vulture of Unrest, . . That whets its beak upon my heart, v- Lies, charmed, within my breast. . . . Pale Memory and flushed Hope forget, Ambition sinks to sleep ; And o'er my spirit falls a bliss - So perfect that I weep. , . " --' Oh, Stranger!, though thy Farewell; notes Now on the breeze may sigh Yet treasured in our thrilling hearts Their echo shall not die. Thou'st brought us from thy Northern home Old Norway's forest tones, Wild melodies from ancient, lands Of palaces and thrones. Take back the ' Prairie's Sojitude,' The voice of that dry sea; Whose billowy' breast is dyed with flowers, Made audible by thee. Take back with thee what ne'er before To Music's voice was given The anthem that Niagara' chaunts Unceasingly to Heaven. The spirit of a People waked V By Freedom's battle-cry The 'Memory of their Washington' Their song of victory. Take back with ihee a loftier Fame, A prouder niche in Art, Fresh laurels from our vfrgihisoilj And take a Nation's heart ! Seven Deadly Sins. 1 Refusing to take a newspaper. 2- Taking a newspaper and jibt payingor it. 3 Not advertising, 4. Getting married without "sending: in the adding cake." - ' " ' 5 Making a printing-office a loafing place. 6 Reading manuscript in the! "hands pf the r'nnsi'or. ' ' Sending an abus!ve.arTdjhre&teniBg' letter. ,n 'be editor. ' ' - . . - fr the first:andJj!econ4HO.fipnco('.no::absolui ,,n'i can be granted. tThejsfourih ri! ultpardori-""lp- For the baIaneecdi8pensaiinf,canT 6tly e received by an especial bull f from the ag-' ed miyBoston mspln 1 f'r 6- STROUDSBUUG, MONROE COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, The Three Brides. A TH RULING STORY. I'&Da you see," said the sexton, "those three hillocks yonder, side by side ? There sleep ;hree brides, whoso history I am about to re late. Look there, sir, on yonder hill you may observe a Imle desolated house with a strag gling fence in from, and a few siunted apple trees on the ascent behind it. It is sadly out of repair now, and the garden is all overgrown with weeds and brambles, and the whole place has a desolate appearance. If the winds were high now you might hear the cra7.y shutters flapping against the sides, and the wind tearing the grey shingles off the roof. Many years ago ihere lived in that house an old man and his son, who cultivated the few acres of around that belong to it. -The father was a self-taught man, deeply versed in the mysteries 'of science, and as he could tell the name of every flower that blos somed in the wood or grew in the garden, and used to sit up late at night at his books, or read ing the mystic slrtry of the starry heavens, men thought he was crazed or bewitched, arid avoi ded htm as ihe ignorant ever shun the giOeil . and; enlightened. A few there were, and a-; pearance within and without. Roses bloomed mongst others, the minister, and lawjer and(in ihe garden, jessamines peeped through the physician of the place, who showed a willing- j laiiices, and the field about it smiled with the ness to afford, him countenance, but they soon ! effects of careful cultivation. Lights were seen dropped his acquaintance, for they found the jn the little parlor in the evening; and many )iu man somewnai reserved and morose, and moreover their vanitv was wounded on discov ering the extent of his knowledge. To the minister ho would quote ihe father and the Scriptures in the otigiual tongue, and showed himself well armed with the weapons 'ofrpolemic controversy. Ho astonished the lawyers with his profound acquaintance wilh jurisprudence, and the physician was surprised at the extent of his medical knowledge. So all of them deserted him, and the minister, from whom he differed in some trifling point of doc trine, spoke very slightly of him, and by and bv looked on the self-educated farmer with eyes, of ! - : 1 n : . j t.r - - ii f i ttver.-Miu. nc iiiMrucieu ms son in an nis.iore ni lhf? Inlinnqitpc liinri mm lucinn- txl. !...?' . , - . rii " 1 Fenihusiastic son of ihe isolitar', . Years rolled away, and the old- man died, j ,f a faIalftv pilrMieu lhis singular man. When He-died, when a storm convulsed the face of j,he f0se wilhei.eil aj lhe leaf fell in the mel Nature;when the wind howled' round 'he alumn f lhe v.iar, Adelaide, loo, siekehed sheltered dwelling, and the lightning played : aml djed hj.e her : eg sis!e r, !' ,ho; aims auwve u.K anu xw,ugn ne em . neaven m faith and purity, the vulgar thought and said that the Evil One had, claimed his own in the elements. 1 cannot paint to you the grief of ihe son at this bereavement, ilo was fur a lime as one distracted. The minister came and muttered a few cold and hollow phrases in his ear, and a'few neighbors, Impelled by curi osity to see the interior of the -old man's dwel ling, came to ihe funeral. With a proud and Jofiy look the son stood above the dust and the dead; in the midst of the band of hypocritical mourners, with a pang at his heari, but sereni ty upon his brow. H'o thanked his friends for lheir kindness, acknowledged their cour esy, and then strode away from the grave io bury his grief in the privacy of thedeberted, dwel ling. He found at last the solitude of ihe mansion almost insupportable, and he paced ihe ebony I , , . '" , 7 , ,. ,.... . ... . , . . ',!'he bridegroom:- When they-arrived at his floor from' morning till night, in all The agony of woe and desolation, vainly importuning heaven for relief.. Ii came to him first in the. guie of poetical inspiration. He wro'e -with wonder ful, ease and power. Page after page came from" his prolific -pen, almost without an effort ; and there was a time when he dreamed (vain fool !) of immortality. Some of his productions came before the world. They were praised and circulated, and inquiries set on foot in the hope .of discovering the author, lie, wrnnpofl fin 'the. veil of impenetrable obscurity, listened to the voice of applause, more delicious be cause it was obtained by siealthv From the obscurity of-yonder lone mansion, andTrdiiwKi's region, to send lays which astonished ihe world,' jWas, indeed? triumph io llie visio'naiy bard. Hi thi.rstjoj; fame had been gratified, and he now began to yearn for the companionship ol some sweet .-being of the other se,v, to share ,with.ihini:ih'e laurels -lie bad wonand to whis 'percouft)laiin in ;u'i'enr in moments -f de-Wndefity-'and'ro'Wpplilie r.j.awHIcli the deaThmisVitherhaAodr I'eSv'ould pjclure to himself the felicity of a refined inter course with a highly intellectual and beautiful woman, and as he had chosen for his motto, "whatever has been done may still be done," he did not despair of success. In this village lived three sisters, all beauti ful, and. accomplished. , Their names were Ma ry, Adelaide and Madeline., 1 am far enough past the age of enthusiasm, but never can I forget the beauty of these young girls. Mary was ihe youngest, and a fairer chaired, more laughing damsel, never danced upon the green Adelaide, who was a few years older, yas dark haired and pensive; but of the three, Madeline, ihe eldest, possessed the most fire, spirit, cul- livation and int'ellect'uulity. Their father, a) hum v 1 toi. uiiw vuuvuiliMif nv 111 nwui IIO.V above vulgar prejudices, permitted the visits of the hero of my story.- Siill he did not aliogelh er encourage the aflection which he found springing tip between Mary and the poet. When, however, he found thai her affections were engaged, he did not withhold his consent from their marriage, and the recluse bore to his .solitary mansion ihe young bride of his affec- ijotis. Oh. Mr, ihe bouse assumed a new ap- 'a . time would the passenger pause by the gar den gate, in listen to strains of the sweetest music, breathed, by choral voices from the cot- lage. If the mysterious student and his wife were neglected by the neighbors, what cared they I Their enduring and mutual affection made their home a hi:le paradise. But death j came to Eden. Marv suddenly . fell sick: and I after a few hours illness, died in the arms of her husband and her sister Madeline. This was the student's second heavy affliction. Days, month rolled on, and ihe only solace of ihe bereaved was io sit with the sistets of ihe deceased and talk of the lost one. To Ade- aide at length lie offered his widowed heart. I he bridal w;is um one ol revelry and tnirih. i V iKnr ITi tA l.i . . r. 1 1 1- .jT.fl I li a J. K UIL T II t 'I II' I'l II, OIIU l they Inert liajipiiy, and the rose again ' blossomed in ihefr jiarden. But it seemed a.n u,-hef husband and Madeline Perhaps you. wiJL think it strange, J u t von no man, thalr after ;al!', the wretched survivor stood again ai the altar. Madeline! I well remember her. She was a beauty iiMhe true sett.e of the word. She might have sat upon a throne and the, most loyal subject, a proudest peer, would have sworn the .blood in her veins .descended from an hundred king. She loved the widow er for his power and his fame, and she wedded hm. Tjiey were . married in that church ii was on a summer afternoon L .recollect it well. During ihe ceremony the blackest clpud I ever saw overspr.ead the heavens, and the moment the-third bride pronounced her vow a clap ofj thunder shook'ihe building to its centre. Allj ilie.females shrieked, but the bride herself made J the response, wiih a steady voice, and her eye I rrl t q1 a fiorl ivltll n will! iiru ua cllf nn73r1 iirinii house bhu'stiiik upon the threshold ;' biit this was lhe timidity of a maiden. When they were alone, he claped her hand it was cold as ice! He looked into her face ' Madeline,' said he, ' what means this'? your cheek is as pale as your wedding gown !'' The bride uttered a frantic s-hriek.. My' wedding gown!' exclaim ed she ; ' no, ho,' ihfs is my sinter's ahr.oud ! the hour of confession ha.i arrived. It is God that impels me to speak. To win you I lost my own soul. Yes, ys I am a murderess ! She smiled" upon me in the joyous affection of her young' Heart bill I 'gave' her the faial drug ! Adelaide twiiied her while arms abriui my neck, bul l administered llio poison ! , Take me to your arms; I have, lost my soul for you, and mine you must bo !' , ' And then,' continued he, in a hollow voice, 1 at that moment came the thunder and the fl;ih, and Jhe-guiliy, woman-fell dead on-' the" floor !' The-countenance of ihe-narrator expressed all ho.fell. ' -"bowsl s - !i '-"i' ' ' And the bridegroom !' asked IVvihefiuland DECEMBER 18,a845. of the destroyer and the(viciirrjs what became of him?' ' He stands before you !' was the thrilling answer. From the Christian Pnrlor Magazine. The White Rose of ihe ITIianii. ay Mas, eliza l. echkmerhorn. During the Indian wars on the western frontier, the Miami Indians took captive a female child, whose family name was Slocum. She was adopt ed into the family of the warrior who took her captive, and finally married an Indian chief. Af ter she was the mother ofjseveral children, every inducement was ineffectually used to persuade her to return with them to their home, the place of her nativity. This incident forms the subject of the following lines. Let me stay at home in the beautiful West, Where I played when a child ; in my age let me rest ; Where the bright prairies bloom, and the wild wa ters play, . In. the home of my heart, dearest, friends, let me stay. Oh! here let me stay, where my Chief in the pride 0.a brave warrior youth, wandered forth by my side ; Where he laid at my feet, the young hunter's' best prey;, . .. Where 1 roamed a wild huntress oh! friends, let me stay. Let me stay where the prairies I've' oft wandered through, While my moccasins.tbrushed from the flowers their dew; Where my warrior would 'pluck the wild blossoms and say, His White Rose was the sweetest oh ! here let me stay. Oh! here let mo stay, where bright plumes from the wing Of the bird, that his arrow had pierced, he would brins; Where, in parting for battle, he softly would say, 'Tis to shield thee I fight oh ! with him let me stay. Let me stay; though the strength of my" chieftain is o'er, Though his warriors he leads to the battle no more; lie loves through the woods, a wild hunter to stray, His heart clings to home oh! then, here let him stay. Let me stay where, my children in childhood have played, ! Where through the green forest they often have strayed ; They never could bend" to the white man's cold sway, j For,their hearts are of fire oh ! here let them stay. You tell me of leaves of the Spirit that speak, But the spirit I own, to the bright stars I seek: In the prairie, the forest, the wateis' wild play I see Him, I hear Him oh! then let me stay. Itleditations on an Old CoaS. -Quacque ipse vidi, . Et quorum pars magne fur I hate a new coat. It is like a troublesome stranger that sticks lo yon most impertinently wherever you go, embarrass all your motions, and thoroughly confounds your self-possession. A man with a new coat on is not at home even in his own house ; abroad he is uneasy ; he can neither sit, aland, nor go like a reasonable mor tal. All men of sense hale new coats, but a fool rejoiceih in a new coat. Without looking at his person, you can tell if he has one on. New coat is written on his face. It hangs like a label out of his gaping mouth. There is an odious harmony between his glossy garment and his senseless, phiz ; a disgusting keeping in the portrait. Of all vile exhibitions, defend me from a fool in a new blue coat with brass but tons ! Avatint, thou blue coat !. Hence, hor rible substance, broadcloth mockery hence ! Bui come, . thou old coat fair and free ; bo thou my muse ; be thou my Charon ! Conduct me to the Elysium of thread-bare essayists, batter ed beans, and, jobbing taylors, where the geni us of shreds and patches dwells in some fairy Monmouih-street, while eternal cabbage.springs beneath his. feet. An old coat- is like ah old acquaintance.' However stiff you may have felt with either ' ai the first Introduction, time makes-you perfectly easy, with both ; with both you take equal liber ties ; you treat neither with ceremony, An ac cidental breach with either is soon repaired.. An old coat is favourable to retirement and stiidy. When your coat is old you feel no ten tle'iic'y io flaunting abroad or to dissipation. Bu'ffoii, thoy tell us, used to sit down to write in his dress wig, and tJaydrrto compose in b No. 28! new coal and ruffles. I cannot conceive how they could manage it. I could, no more write an article in a new coat than in a strait waistr coat. A happy thought, by the way, just strikes me. You may tell by the manner of an auihor how he is usually dressed when composing. I am convinced, that Sir Walter Scott writes in an old coat. Lord Byron without any coat at all. Geoffrey Crayon in the ordinary dre?s of a gentleman, neither new or old. Cobbet in a coat very often turned. Moore iu a very hand some brown frock, and nankeen trowsers. Cro ly in full dress. Leigh Hunt in a night gown, of fantastic pattern, and somewhat shabby. Mr. Wordsworth in a frieze jacket and leather gai ters. The late Mr. Shelly wrote in dread nought. Coleridge in a careless dress, half lay, half clerical. I cannot say that I have so much attachment to other aged articles of dress as io an old coat. An old waistcoat is well enough; but old breech es are treacherous friends, loo apt to desert you on a pinch ; their friendship rests on a very slight foundation, and they often fail ihose who are in need. Not so an old coal ; it sticks by you to tho last. With a little care you may wear it for years, nay, for life. The vulnerable pans of an old coal are the armpits, the elbows and tho skirts ; of those you musi be cautious. I re. member a friend who was rather attached io gesticulation, and used to elevate his arms to. an indiscreet height long after his coat had leached its grand climacteric ; this should be avoided. The indifference with which you enter into all sorts of places and adventures when your coal is old, your gallant independence of the weather, your boundless scorn of coaches and umbrellas, the courage with which you brave every accident by flood and fi eld, are all con spicuous advantages in an old coat. The last benefit 1 shall notice of an old coat, is, the exercise it affords the genius of the wear er. Judgement taste and fancy are equally strengthened by the patching, disguising and. selling it off to the best advantage. I found a. friend busily engaged on a blue coat, that to all appearance, was iu the very last stage of de crepitude. First, he patched the elbows, &c.r and strengthened the tottering buttons. Next came brushing and dusting, a ticklish operation, let me tell you. Then came watering; your water' is a sore refresher of your whoreson' old coal. Then came a second brushing, with a. soft brush. Then he took a sponge, dipped in ink mixed wiih vinegar, and rubbed the seam withal. Lastly, he polished the buttons with a. piece of soft leather. After all this, the coat was not be recognized by its most intimate friends. There was as much difference be tween it and its former self, as between an old beau of sixty when he first rises in the morn ing, bald, grizzled, rough and toothless, and the very same beau shaved and dressed, with His false teeth, his painted eyebrows, and new black wig. Good Precepts. We are not lawyers, and charge no fee for' advice. Don't kiss your wife while promenading "in Broadway, at noon. Never put sulphurate of antimony in a'aher ry cobbler. It is good to raise in the world,-, but never hoist yourself up by the waistband. : When vou build a castle in tho air, "stand from under," lest it may fall and crush you. Keep your jacket on, but mind and don't tear your linen. r Do not steal your neighbor's newspaper but subscribe for one yourself. Never wind up your waich wiih a piece of soap. . I f ' Don't pound your corns with a shoemaker' hammer. , Don't. scratch ynur.head with a .currycomb Never pick' your teeth, with a, crow-bar. Don't take your soup, with a shovei- Don't drink more than ten todies at one tim'el Never sleep wiih your feetoul of thewindow. Pause and consider, before you set the.North River on fire. Y. Aurora. There are no, less than, 9000, different spas ciea of roses and 50 of pinks.