11'', )TI)GDOA JO.IJR)AL = - - (142 Strt:olmpcv—Debotell to Grueral *Mattilmre, caribertfottift, %MLitt co, ILitzraturr, Snoralttg, arts, sbct2lttro, anrtritturr,awatocinetit, &c., kr. `QraDa. ..= '®o . PUBLISIIED BY THEODORE H. CREMER. ..33.aciDUCIG3o The "Jouurr m." will be published every Wed nesday morning, at $2 00 a year, if paid in advance, and if not paid within six months, $2 50. No eubscrimim received for a shorter period than sitinonths, nor any paper discontinued till all ar mirages are paid. Advertisements not exceeding one square, wil! be Warted three times for $1 00, and for every subse quent insertion 25 cents. If no definite orders are given as to the time an advertisement is to be continu ed, it will be kept in till ordered out, and charged ac cordingly. romTp.7. "To charm the languid hours of solitude, lie oft invites her to the Muses lore." From the Philadelphia Saturday Courier, Is it Well with Thee ! DT EDWARD TOTING Molter, sorrowing o'er thy child Taken back an soon as given : Wife, whose widow'd heart's made wild, By the dear bond rudely riven , Parents, wailing for a son, Who was alt your pride and stay: Friend, who mourn'd a dear friend gone, Or a brother called away : 11,:aband , weeping o er thy mate, Dearer than Myself to thee ; All by Death left desolate, Tell ma, is it well with yel Yes, 'tie well. The loved and lost Are not lost to us forever; They but for awhile have crossed O'er the doep and shadowy river, That divideth the two worlds Of Eternity and Time; And they often come from thence, Bringing to us bliss salime. Spirits whispering to our spirits, Thoughts too subtile fur to tell, In the world that Flesh inherits;— Yes, with us 'tin well; tie well. They're more our. than when in life; Then, they were not always nigh ; Now, where'er we wander, they, Guardian spirits, round us fly. Yee, they're with us every where, Treading every path we tread ; Guarding us with pious care, From the snares around us spread. Time was that nut hearts were prone Too much to rely on earth ; ,Ne'er bestowing a thought upon That world which gave our spirits birth ; But since those we loved have gone Thither, Heaven seems more near ; And our thoughts oft upward fly, For we have an int'reat there. Itts wet t think of Hereafter. Is it not sweet to think hereafter, When the spirit leaves this sphere, Love, with deathless wing, shall waft her To those she long had) mourn'd for here Hearts from which twas death to sever, Eyes this world can ne'er restore, There, as warm, as bright as ever, Shall meet us, and be lost no more. When wearily we wander, asking Of earth and heaven, where are they, Beneath whose smiles we once lay basking, Bless'd, and thinking bliss would stay, Hope still lifts her radiant finger, P,pinting to the eternal borne, Upon whose portal yet they linger, Looking back for us to come. Alas! alas! doth hope deceive us? Shall frienship, love—shall all those ties That bind a moment and then leave ac— He found again where nothing dies? 0 ! if no other boon were given To keep our hearts from wrong and stain, Who would not try to win a Heaven Where all we love shall live again 1 Treason. DT "ITII•WS." Of all eyes, give me bite ones The hazel and black May be just as true ones, I know not Mack ! But none shall persuade me The favorite hue In the heav'n that made me Is other than blue. I love them ! I love them I've made up my mini— The azure above them Less pure do I find ! Less radiant its brightness Transparent its dew Than smiles wrapt in lightness, Eyes moistened in blue. From the Keepsake for 1845. Who Giveth Songs in the Night. When courting slumber, The hours I number, And sad cares cumber My wearied mind; This thought shall cheer me, That thou art near me Whose ear to hear me t ls still inclined. My soul Thou keepest, Who never deepest, 'Mid gloom the deepest, There's light above. Thine eyes behold me; Thine arms enfold me; Thy word has told me That God is love. Beneveknoe le the light and joy of a good *M. It is natter to give than to receive, U75..."Y 1 - 3 0 laP cEt.Al.'..- 7 12. 4s7r M a. C 3 42: ITZOT:C. Sallowing Oysters Alive. At a late hour, the other night, the door of on oyster house in our city was thrust open, and in stalked a hero from the Sucker State. He was quite six feet high, spare, somewhat stooped, with a hungry, anxious countenance, and his hands pushed clear down to the bottom of his breeches pockets. His outer covering was hard to define; but after surveying it minutely, we came to the con clusion that his suit had been made in Isis boyhood, of a dingy yellow linsey-woolsey, and that, having sprouted lip with astonishing rapidity, he had been forced to piece it out with all colors. in order to keep pace with his body. In spite of his exertions, however, he had fallen in arrears about a foot of the necessary length, and consequently stuck that fur through his inexpressible.. His crop of hair was surmounted by the funniest little seal skin cap ima ginable. After taking a position ho indulged in a long stare at the man opening the bivalves, and slowly ejaculated—" raters?" Yes, sir,' responded the attentive operator;'and fine ones they are, too. Well, I've heart[ tell of ?stars afore,' says Ile, ' but this is the fust time I've seed 'ens, and prehaps I II know what lime made of afore I git out of town.' Having expressed his desperate intention, ho cautiously approached a plate, and scrutinized the unmed shell-fish with a gravity and interest which would have done honor to the most illustrous search. er into the hidden mysteries of nature. At length he began to soliloquise on the difficulty of getting them out, and how queer they look when out. I never seen anythin' hold on so—'takes an amazitt' site of screwitf, hose, to get 'cm out, and aint they slick and slip'ry when they does come? Smooth as an eel! I've a good mind to give that feller lodging, jest to realize the effects, as uncle Jess used to say about spekelation.' Well, sir,' was the reply, !down with two bits, and you can have a dozen.' Two bits !' exclaimed the Sucker, now come, that's stickin' it on right strong, hose, for icier. A dozen on 'em aint nothin' to a chicken, and there's no gittin'more'n a picayune a piece for them. I've only re-alized forty-five picayunes tat my first ven tur' to St. Louis. I'll tell you what, I'll gin you two chickens for a dozen, if you'll conclude to neat. - - A wag, who was standing by indulging in a do zen, winked to the attendant to shell out and the offer was accepted. < Now mind,' repeated the Sucker,. all fair—two chickens for a dozen—you're witness, mister,' turn• ing at the same time to the wag;