1 , 1 H • U . IN 1 I )7:,1 G I , - , iftotitr naoopaper—ZietioteV to Central iattetitgener, iCibtiertfolita, Volttiz litcraturc, Storalito, Szcienteo,fafirlcuture,amitoentent, Szt., .C3rGOno Z.te Ec3CED. Eitio. PUBLISHED BY THEODORE H. CREMER, 7 U 3 cIisI:PUCCI.S:IIO The "Jour il. " 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 subscription received for a shorter period than six months, nor any paper discontinued till all ar- Tearages are paid. Advertisements not exceeding one square, will be inserted 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. POET:'S.7. ..To charm the languid hours of solitude, He oft invites her to the Muses lore." Scotch Songs. WE GEORGE W. BETHUNE, n. n. O, sing to me the auld Scotch songs, the braid of Scottish tongue, The sang., my father loved to hear, The Range my mither sung, When she sat beside my cradle, Or crooned me on her knee, An' I wad na' sleep, she sang sae sweet The auld Scotch songs to me. Yes! sing the auld, the geld auld sang*, Auld Scotia's gentle pride, 0' the winmling burn, and the sunny brae, An' the cosh, ingle-side Xiang o' the broom an' heather, Sang o' the tryating tree, The lar'rocks lilt and the gowan's blink— The auld Scotch sang. for me. Sing ony o' the auld Scotch sang., The blithesome or the sad; They make me smile when I am wee, An' greet when I am glad: My heart gams back to auld Scotland, An' sent tears dim mine c'e, But the Scotch hluid leaps in a' my veins, As ye sing the songs to me. Sing on, sing mair o' thee auk! tangs; For ever ane can tell 0' joy and sorrow i' the pant, Where mem'ry luves to dwell ; Though hair win grey, an' limbs win auld, Until the day I die, I'll bless the Scottish tongue that sings The auld Scotch songs to me. CASSIUS M, CLAY, We think our readers will thank us for giving them today the manly letter of Cassius M. Clay t ip to the People of ky. Engaged i • se. he writes and speaks like a men int a holy spirit, and we find It di ffi cult to r . the enthusiasm which his burning words enkindle, even while referring to them. His position is a glorious one. True to his native soil, let who may falter there, true to the great and fundamental doctrines which our Fathers estahlished, true to himself and his fellow men, he Mould do in his day what he may, to break the fet ters of human thraldom, and elevate Kentucky and her People to the full stature of Freedom. The prayers and sympathy of the good far oft and near will be with him I We need not go into details on this subject.— The letter of Mr. Clay will explain his course and the policy of his friends. If left alone, if not fool ishly of fanatically interfered with OUT of the State, we feel confident that they will succeed, and era long the work of Emancipation will be commenced in Old Kentucky.—Cin. Gazette. To the People of itentoldtp. Whilst I was battling in the North, in a triangu lar fight with Whigs, Abolitionists and Democrats, for the postulate that " what the law makes proper ty, is property," and that all good citizens should abide by the law, till they can, in a legal and con stitutional manner, conform it to their conscientious standard of morality; the Southern press was Jr. notmeing me as wishing to employ the army and navy of the United States in the forcible liberation of the slaves. The many calumnies, insinuations against my fidelity to the lowa of the State allegi ance, I shall not condescend to repel. I say to those who are so insidiously attempting to prejudice me in the confidence of the Whig party, that I shall not palliate or deny; conscious of my own duty to the American people, I have fearlessly discharged it; and as I never played the sycophant to met. for the make of office, though sacrificing some personal pride in the cause of the political principles of that party, to some portion of which I owe nothing, so in defeat, I have nothing to deplore but the common calamities of the country. To the people of Kentucky I would humbly sug gest that I am a son of one of the first pioneers of the West—a man who, in an obscure way, render ed noise service to his country, both in the council and in the field ; he was one of the founders of the State Constitution, and his services were not unap preciated by those who have perpetuated his memo ry, by giving his name to one of the counties of the Commonwealth. I speak not of these things in a vain spirit, or from overweening filial affections, but to remind those men of yesterday, that they were presuming too much upon popular credulity, and their own significance, when they set themselves up as the exclusive guardians of the honor and welfare of the State, and undertake to denounce and intro- else me as an enemy to the country. Having some small interest in the soil. as well as in the good name of the Commonwealth, with my humility and love sof equality, / cannot but give utterance to som Ut) touches of contempt and indignation towards those feeders on the crumbs that fall from other men's tables, who affect so much sensibility about the property of the country. If there in in our State something improper or dangerous to be talked or written about, I put it to every true and manly Ken tuckian, if that thing in not improper and danger ous in its existence among us? And if so, is he who undertakes to remove the evil the enemy of his country 1 Or rather, is not that man, who, seeing the wrong, for the sake of popularity, and a narrow self-interest, in opposition to the welfare of the great MASH of the people, dares not attempt its extinction, a traitor and a coward, and truly deserving the exe cration of his countrymen? lam not ashamed to admit that I am the most uncompromising foe of tyranny, wherever displayed: and I proudly avow myself the eternal enemy of slavery. At the name time, experience•taught charity warns me to loose none of my sympathy for the stave•holder, because of his misfortune or his fault : and while I would be just to the Slack, I urn free to confess, that every feeling of association, and instinctive sense of self elevation, leads me to seek the welfare of the White, whatever may be the consequence of the liberation of the African. Bred among slaves, I regarded them with indiffer ence; seeing no departure from morals or economi cal progress in the tenure. The emancipation move ment about 1830, affected me as it did most persons at that time; and I felt some new and pleasing e motions springing up in my bosom, when ! resolved in common with my lamented brother, to liberate my slaves. I authorized him to put my name to the Emancipation Society, formed about that time in Mercer county. In the Came year I went to Yale College. in a free State. I was not blind, and there fore saw a people living there luxuriously, on a soil which here would have been deemed the high road to famine and the alms-house. A city of ten or fifteen thousand inhabitants rose up in the morning, passed through all the busy strife of the day, afid laid down again at night, in quiet security, and not a single police officer was anywhere to be seen. There were more than 500 young men congregated from all climes, of various habits and temperaments, in the quick blood of youth, and in all-conquering passion, and there was not found in all the city, so far as the public were aware, a single woman so fallen as to demand a less price for tier love than honorable marriage. A gray haired judge of seventy years and more, in a life time of service, had pro nounced sentence of death upon but five criminals in a whole State, and three of these were brought down to ruin by intemperance. I had been taught to regard Connecticut as a land of wooden nutmegs and leather pumpkin seeds—yet there was a land of sterility without paupers, and a people where no man was to be found who could not write his name, and read the laws and his bible. These were strange things; but far more strange, passing strange will it be, Kentuckians, if you shall not come to the same conclusion to which I was compelled. that liberty, religion and education were the cause of all thew things, and the true foundation of individual ha, ;.iiiess and national glory. In 1835 I introdu ced a common school bill into the House of Repre sentatives of Kentucky ; it was lost. In 1838 I had the pleasure of voting for the present common school law, in common with a great majority of my compeers. Before 1840 I was convinced that uni versal education in a slave stets was impossible!— Whilst I now write, the eight hundred thousand dollars set aside, front the proceeds of the sales of the public lands, for common schools, surreptitious ly appropnated to internal improve men ts,confirm my conclusion. There is not a cent in the great Com monwealth of Kentucky, appropriated s to the edu cation of her people ? C. A. Wickliffe, in a con vention of teachers in 1840, at Frankfort, said : "‘ If slavery and common schools be incompatible, I say, let slavery perish." The sentiment was met with tremendous applause. Men of Kentucky, what say t you? Time has proved that they are incompatible—not a single slave state has succee ded, from the beginning, in the general education of her citizens. Governor Hammond, of South Carolina, says, in his message to the Legislature— The free school system is a failure—owing to the fact that it does not suit our people or our govern ment." Experience and reason have long since proclaimed the same unwelcome fact. Whilst Mr. Wickliffe was speculating I was ac ting. By aid of the law of 1833, I hoped ulti mately to emancipate the State from ignorance, pov erty and crime. Kentucky called upon all her sons, by all the glorious memories of the past, by all the fond hopes of the !Inure, to resist those who, by the, repeal of that law and a retrogade movement, would sink her into the everenduring night and lower deep" of perpetual slavery. The time at last came , when I was to play the selfish time-server for office temporary elevation, or, planting myself upon the eternal principles of truth, justice and reason, look ing to conscience, to posterity and to God, to fall proudly in their cause. What though Ibe a fan atic or an enthusiast' in holding that slavery is con trary to the Declaration of American Independence; the Constitution of the United States; the common law of our English inheritance; and in violation of the laws of nature and of God—the effect of it are beyond all controversy; the monumental hand of time in character. of horrible distinctness ; turning the dewy heavens into brass, and scathing the green earth with sterility and decay. The whole South cries out with anguish against this and that measure of national injury; implores and dentin tea in alternate puerility; makes and unmakes pre- sidents; enacts and repeals lawewith a petulence and recklessness, more worthy of manly intligna tion, titan the pitrableloWirraticrof the DOrth.-- Yet no relief comes to the sinking patient; her hy pochondrical illusions are not dispelled; she can not, she will not see that slavery is the cause of her ruin. Her fields relapse into primitive sterility; her population wastes away ; manufacturers recede frotssthe infected border; trade languishes; decay trenches upon her meagre accumulations of taste or utility ; guant famine stalks into the shattered por tals of the homestead: the hearth stone is invaded by a more relentless intruder than the officer of the law; and the castle that may stand before the sword, falls by this slow, secret and resistless enemy ; the blood of the body politic is frozen at the core ; a trophy paralyses all its limbs; sullen despair begins to display itself upon the case-warn faces of men; the Heavens !and the earth cry aloud—the eternal law of happiness and existence have ;been tram pled under foot; i and yet with a most pitiable infat uation, the South still clings to slavery. The competition of unrequited service, slave la bor, dooms the laboring white millions of these States to poverty ; poverty gives them over to ig norance; and ignorance and poverty are the fast high roads to crime and suffering. Among the more fortunate property holders, religion and morality are staggering and dying. Idleness, extravagance, un thriftiness and want of energy precipitate slave hol ders into frequent and unheard of bankruptcies, such as are unknown in free States and well order ed Monarchies. The spirit of uncontrolled com mand vitiates our temperaments, and destroys that evenness of temper, and equanimity of soul, which are the sheet anchors of happiness and safety in a world of attainable desire and inexorable evil.— Population is sparse, and without numbers there is neither competition nor division of labor, and of necessity, all mechanic arts languish among us.— Agriculture drags along its slow pace with slovenly, ignorant, feckless labor. Science, literature and art are strangers here; poets, historians, artists and mechanists, the lovers of the ideal, the great, the true and the useful; the untiring searchers into the hidden treasures of unwilling nature, making the winds, the waters, the palpable and impalpable es sences of things tributory to man : creating grad fication for the body, and giving new susceptibility and expansion to the soul ; they flourish where thought and action are untrammeled; ever daring must be the spirit of genius; its omnipotence be longs only to the free. A loose and inadequate re spect for the rights of necessity follows in the wake of slavery. Duelling, bloodshed and Lynch law have but security to person. A general demorali zation has corrupted the first minds in the nation ; its hot contagion has spread among the whole peo ple; licentiousneas, crime and bitter hate infest us at home; repudiation and the forcible propagand• ism of slavery is arraying against us the world in arms. I appeal to honesty, to reason, to nature, and to conscience which neither time nor space, nor fear, nor hate, nor hope of reward, nor crime, nor pride, nor selfishness, can utterly silence—are not these things true 1 A minute comparison of the free and slave States, so often and ably made, I forbear, I leave this unwilling and bitter proof to each man's observation and reflection. There is however, ono consideration which I would urge upon all, because it excludes all fanat icism and enthusiaain.' Kentucky will be richer in dollars and cents by emancipation, and slave hold ers will be wealthier by the change. assert, from my own knowledge, that lands of the sane quality in the free, arc from 100 to 150 per cent. higher in value than in the slave States; in some cases probably six hundred per cent. high er! Lands six tulles from Cincinnati, in Ohio, I am credibly informed, aro worth $6O per acre, whilst in Kentucky, at the same distance from that city, and of the same quality, they are worth only $lO per acre! Now the slave holders of the State are, with rare exceptions, the land holders of the State; they, therefore, absolutely increase their for tune by liberating their slaves, even without com pensation. Thus if I own 1,000 acres of land in Fayette, it is worth $50,000: say I own 12 slaves worth $5,000, the probable ratio between land and slaves; if my land rise to the value of the free State standard, which it must do, my estate becomes worth (losing Cie value of the slaves, $5,000,) $05,000. If it rises to $l5O per acre, three times its present value, as I most sincerely believe it would do in twenty years after emancipation, the man owning 1,000 acres of land, now worth $5O per acre, would be worth, under the free system, $145,000. Now this assertion is fully proven by facts open to all. Kentucky is the senior of Ohio, by nearly one half of the existence of the latter.— Kentucky is the superior of Ohio in soil, climate, minerals and timber, to say nothing of the beauty of her surface—and yet Ohio's taxes for 1843 amounted to $2,361,482 81, whilst Kentucky's tax is only $343,617 66. Thus showing Ohio's siipe rior productive energy over Kentucky, Ohio has 23 electoral votes to our 12, and outstrips us in about the same ratio in all thing else. A compari son of the older free and slave States will show a more favorable balance sheet to the free label States; whilst the slave States have greatly the advantage in climate and soil, to say nothing of the vastly greater extent of the territory of the slave state. Massachusetts produces more in gross manufac tures yearly, than all the cotton in the Union sells fur! Let Louisville leek to Cincinnati, and ask herself how many millions of dollars slavery costs boil All our towns dwindle, and our farmers lose, in consequence, all home markets. Every farmer zaa34aeti. bought out by the slave system, sends off one of the consumers of the manufactures of the towns; when the consumers are gone, the mechanic must go also. A. has acquired another 1,000 acres of land, but B. has gone to Ohio with the $50,000 paid for it, and the State is that much the poorer in the aggre gate. A. has increased his apparent means, hut his market has flown to lands governed by wiser heads than the land of slavery can boast. Beef from Fayette, sold this spring in the city of New York, for $6 per hundred, but the expense of a car riage was $3 per hundred ; thus, for wont of a home market, which cannot exist in a slave State the beef raiser loses one half of Me yearly pro ceeds of his faros. Slavery costs every man in the community about the saw price—one half and more of the proceeds of his labor, as the price of hind has already shown! Political diffiiculties thicken around us; war for the perpetuation of this curse, threatens us in the distance; dark clouds of bloodshed, dissolution, and utter ruin, lower on the horizon; the great na tional heart lies bleeding in the dust, under the re lentless heel of the slave power! It requires no very quick eye to see that the political power of Kentucky is gone forever, unless she takes a new tack and revives under the free labor system. Hav ing, in truth, no common interest with the slaveliol ding policy of the South, we bear all the evils of the alliance, without any of the supposed compen sating benefits which slavery confers upon the cul tivators of rice, sugar and cotton. The South is beginning to be supplied with produce from States nearer them in distance and facilities in transporta tion than ours, while she Is already too poor to buy fears us; we look for markets almost exclusively to Cincinnati, and New York, and New Orleans, which last is but the outlet to the other nations.— Until-Kentucky is prepared to go all lengths !for slaverly, she is powerless; not pro-slavery enough for " the chivalry," nor free enough for the free, between two stools she flounders on the ground. Christians, moralists, politicians, and merely let live laborers feel these bitter truths. Kentucky never will unite herself to the slave empire, born of Southern disunion ; then let her at once lead on the east of freedom. Is the cry of liberty coo pow erful than slavery, to move the hearts of men 1— Let us then be just and fear not. Let us littera to our slays, and make friends instead of enemies for the evalay ; for all the signs of the times proclaim that tilt elements of revolution are among us, when the crimi comes, if we are free, all will be safe; if not, no man canoes the end. British emancipation has gone before us, providing all things safe. The price of lands in the colonies is admitted on all hands to have risen in value, in spite of all the en emies of freedom, these are the eternal and undis putable proofs of successful reform. The day you strike oil the bonds of slavery, experience and sta tistics prove the prophecy of Thomas Jefferson, that the ratio of the increase of the blacks upon a giv en basis, diminishes, compared with the increase of slavery; whilst the influx of white immigration swallows up the groat mass of the African race, in the progress and civilization of the more energetic white. Amalgamation of the two races, so affect edly dreaded by sonic pro-slavery men, is far less in the free than in the slave States; this all men know from observation ; what a little reflection would have enabled theca, a priori, to have determined.— Many of the more faithful and industrious slaves may be employed by their quandum masters. whilst the idle and vicious must Buffer the consequences of their folly. Stealing will not increase, as some argue, but be diminished, for vigilance will be more active, and punishment more certain and severe.— Lel candidates be started in all the counties in fa vor of a Convention, and run again and again', till victory shall perch on the standard of Me free. Whether emancipation be remote or immediate, re paid must bn had to the rights of owners, the hab its of the old, and the general good feeling of the people. 'Co those who cry out forever what shall be done with the freed slaves, it will occur that up on this plan, no more will be left among usthan we shall absolutely need, for we have every reason to suppose that many of the opponents of the move ment will leave us before its consummation, taking their staves with them ; and the State ought nut to, if she could, at once deprive herself of the slave laborers now here. Then let us, having no regard to the clamors of the ultras of the North or the South, move on un shaken in our purpose, to the glorious end. Shall sensible men be forever deluded by the villy cry of abolitionists;' is this not becoming not only riffle titans, but contemptible? Can you not see that many base demagogues hove been crying out wolf, whilst they were playing the traitors to their party and the country for personal elevation ? Is it not time that some sense of returning justice should re• vice in your bosoms, and that you should cease to denounce these who in defeat do not forget their integrity, and who, though fallen, do not despair of the Republic. Washington, Jefferson and Madison, and the great fininders of the Republic are my standard hearers: Liberty and Union is my motto. Never yet has a Kentuckian deserted hie country's standard, and fled to the field. Shall Ibe the first to prove recreant the sentiment which should ever be up permost in the bosoms of the gallant end the free, when danger, no matter whether of the sword, or more damning despotism threatens his nativo land. Think through wham Thy life blood tracks its present lake, And then strike home!' I have given my t:laves fo: the ptiblic goad. Is more needed !—Tax me to the verge of sustenance and life, and make my country free!— I call upon all Kentucky to speak out upon this subject ; let each men cams to the press in his own name; let us hear others—hear all. Trust not to those who in private whisper approval in your ear, but denounce the open advocates of the same ad missions. Ido nut profess to be infallible ; if I oat wrong, show me right, no man will do more, suffer more for conciliation. I listen to advice, I implore counsel ; but neither denunciation, nor persecution shall silence me; and so far as the voice of ono in dividual makes up the omnipotence of public will, I say, Kentucky shall be free. Let no man be star tled; a few years ago most men looked upon sla very as a matter of course ; a thing of necessity, which was to live for centuries. Now, few are so hardy as to deny that some 20 or 30 years will wit ness its extinction. The time is, in my judgment, yet nearer at hand. A space of throe counties deep, lying along the Ohio river contains a decided majority of the peo ple of the State, as well as the greater part of the soil. How long before slaves there will be, from ob vious causes, utterly useless"! Soon, very soon, will they find themselves bearing all the evils of slavery, without any, the least remuneration. Does any behove that they will tamely submit to this in tolerable grievance I If slavery does not tumble down of itself, they will vote it down, for they will have the power, and it will be their interest to do so. The rich interior counties of the State have the least need of slave labor of any portion of the globe. The mountains are ruined by the decreas ing population of the lowlands, and the inability to consume their products, where slaves abound. The Green River country should remember if Pandora's box was opened again upon mankind, two greater curses and forerunners of poverty and ruin, than slaves and tobacco, could not be found! Kentuck ians, be worthy of your past fame—be heroes once more. God has not designated this moat favored land to be occupied by an inferior race. Italian skies mantle over us, and more than Sicilian luxu riance is spread beneath our feet,—Givo us free la bor, and wo shall indeed become 'the labor of the world" But what if not?—Man was not created for the eating of Indian meal ; but the mind—the soul must be fed, as well as the body. The same spirit whiclt led Ild to the battle field, gloriously to illustrate the national name, yet lives in the hearts of our people; they feel their false position; their impotency of future accomplishment. This weight must be removed. Kentucky mast be'free. CASSIUS M. CLAY LEXINOTON, Ky., Jan. 1845. eItrELTT slum, Ili K1N1.T98.--A young woman in Vermont married a poor but worthy man against her father's wish. He drove them from his house, and closed his door and heart against them. They carne down near Boston went to work and prospered. After many years the father had occa sion to come to Boston. He concluded to go and see his daughter, expecting a cold reception. . . His daughter and hor husband received him most kindly and lovingly. After slaying with them awhile, he went back to Vermont. One of his neighbors, hearing where he had beep, asked him how his daughter and her husband had treated them. .1 never was no trotted before in my life," said the weeping and broken-hearted father. . They have broken my heart; they have killed me; I don't feel an though I could live under it.' What did they do to you?' asked the neighbor. 'Did they abase you They loved are to death and killed me with kindness,' said he. .I can never forgive myself for treating socruelly my own darling daughter who loved me so affectionately. I feel as if I should die to think how I grieved the precious child when I spurned her from my door. Heaven bless them, and forgive me my cruelty and injustice to them." Who does not see in this an infallible cure for difficulties betiveeh man and man? There is not a child nor a man on earth, who would not feel and any that that daughter, though so deeply wronged and outraged by her angry father, did right in trea ting him frie she did. That father was her enemy hut she was not his. Ho hated her, while she loved him. Tux Darns DAY.—Who does not wish, says Miss Bremer, that a bright sun may beam on their bridal day It seems to us as if Hymen's torch could not clearly burn if it be not kindlred by the bright tight of the beams of heaven. A secret be lief that Heaven does not look with indifference on our earthly fate remains constantly in the depths of our hearts and however we may be dust and atoms, yet we see, when the eternal vault is dimmed by clouds or shines in splendour. in this change always some sympathy, or some foreboding which concerns us, and often, very often, are our hopes and our fears —children of winds and clouds. c - How binutifully has it been asked by an eminent writer Is there to be found a gift of heaven more precious, more worthy our most ar dent gratitude, than that of possessing a family, a home, where virtues, kindness, and enjoyments are every day guests, where the heart and the eye sun themselves in a world of love, where thoughts era lively and enlightened, where friends not only by word but by action say to each other—Thy joy. thy sorrow, thy hope, thy prayer are mine r Inquirer. Filial Affection—An Irishman, swearing the peace against his three sons, thus concluded his affidavit: And this deponent further saith that the only One of his children who showed any real filial affection was his youngest son, Lary, for he never struck hint when ho was down.' %Wraaca)lices cit). 413.VV. The Public Eye. What sacrifices are daily made to propitiate th 4 public eye, to dazzle its scrutinizing glance, to avert its scorn. The proud victim of poverty, emerging from his garret, where, with squalid wont for his companion, he lion a hundred times trotted of the bitterness of death, smoothes down his knitted brow, and calls up a smile to his care-worn features as he passes into the street to encounter a crowd he knows not and to whom he is unknown. God knows his sorrows, but he is unwilling that they should be seen by the public eye. The slattern wife, who moves about her own dwelling in rags and filth, careless of her husband's reproaches and indifferent to his disgust, will spend hours to adorn herself for a ball, in hope of winning an admiring glance from the public eye. The hard man, whose soul is his pervious to Charity, who coins his wealth out of broken hearts, whose banker is 'loin, and whose god is Gold, will do an alms in the market place-- that ho may attract the public eye. Virtuous wo men, who would shrink front the whisper of a liber tine as from the fangs of an aspen, have at the dic tate of fashion bored their bosom to the common gaze, and courted the licentious glance of the public eye. The Fakirs of the East transpierce their flesh with spears,or measure the length of a river by successive prostrations, or hold their limbs in ono attitude until they wither flesh and marrow, and all that they may seem saints to the public eye.— Nay, even the criminal on the gallows holds the tre mendous leap he is about to take from life and light into the inexplorable abyss, a secondary considers , lion to that of causing the public eye to dilate with wonder at the boldness with which he encounters death.—N. Y '!'rue Sun. Those vino MAKE WAII SHOULD DO T. Fran, mi.—Let rulers who crow so bravely, each on his own dunghill, meet in single combat; and if one kills the other, let the question be settled according ly. If both are killed, let the next in authority take the land in dispute. Does this method of settling the difficulties ap pear barbarous to the reader? lint is it not as much better than war as the number engaged in the deadly conflict is less? What is war but a duel on a great scale? or, according to Jefferson, "the unprofitable contest of seeing who will do the oth er the most harm ;" which multiplies, instead of re dressing injuries? There is another thing in which war is more bar. , bnrous than duelling, which is, that in a duel the principals fight out their own quarrels; but in war they hire others to kill one another. vihohnow little and care less about the quarrel. The object of the common soldier is pay and plunder, with the license to trample on all God's laws with impunity. With the officer, the object is the exercise of arbitrary power, and the praise of the vulgar. When Allied the Great instituted the ordeal of battle, it was a great advance on the barbarous nian- , ners of the age, and much better than those deadly feuds, in which the parties involved not only them• selves but all their retainers. Then why not adopt a plan which, barbarous and unchristian al it is, Is not so bad as war DeAt-rlrre Attroorty.—A traveller who spent some time in Turkey, relates a beautiful parable which was told him by a Jervis, and which seems even more bentitiful than Sterne's celebrated figure of the accusing spirit and the recording angel.— Every man, sail the Jervis, has two angels, one on his right shoulder and one on his left. When ho does anything good, tho angel on his right shoul- der writes it down and seals it, because what Is once well done is done forever. When he does evil, the angel upon his left shoulder writes it down, but does not seal it. He waits till midnight. If before that time the mon bows down his head and exclaims "6.mm:a ALL. !—I HAVE SINNT.D..-FORGIVE me I' the nngel rubs it out ; but if not, at midnight ho seals it, and the angel on the right shoulder weeps. JEALCInit AND BCDTLY.D.- . Plense widow Wim. ple, ma says please lend her the biggest sweet per tater you've got.' • A sweet potato.' .Yes'rn.' Why, aint your ma going to Mrs. Wallapoes party.' Yeem.' Aint she ready ?' •Yetern—all but her hustle. She had to bile her'n for dinner to day, and she wants the perteter quick, cos she expects Dr. Possum right away' Dr Possem! Ho going to call for the widow Fizzle! Tell your can I har'nt a sweet potatoo hi the house.' Yes . m.' That artful woman ! She (ion% got ho polatoo of mine. Let her use corn cobs.' Ne as Ito A BA it r.—The Buffalo Gazette relatei that during the fire in that city a short time ago, a police officer observed a woman making a great dis play of hushing an apparent child, which she held snugly to her bosom enveloped in a cloak. On be- ing questioned by the officer as to what she had there, she replied. • a darling baby, almost froze;' but a peep under the cloak detected a fine roll of dry groods, instead of the darling baby.' The man who in worth millions of dollars and never think. of bestowing any portion of it upon the starving, destitute. suffering poor, is little ad• vantage to any community. j An exchange paper says that a lad of fifteen, who saunters about rum-shops, smokes cigars, chews tobacco, drinks wine, or foils in love with • lady much older than himself, in rotten before ripe!' According to the modern Jews, we are now in the year of the world 5604, the church of England considers it to be 5848 ; the church of Rome make. the world to he 7044 years old, and the Septuagint. 7422 years. Prof. Wallace decides for the reckon• ing of the Septuagint. "Am I not a little pale 7" inquired a lady who was rather short and corpulent, of a crusty old bachelor. You look like a big tub," wee the blunt re- joinder. a, THE 'mous that there is a chap down out so cross-eyed that ho courts two girls at once, is contradicted by one of the girls. c - Mr. ' , ILIAC PR At, formerly a dealer in Bos ton advertised himself thus : I Pray, oppuoite the old South Church.•"
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers