5
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° 2 71
/I, l n 01/
BY JAS. CLARK.
From "forms fil . UM? CtIOIL "
TILE PRESS.
DI% RAH. OLAND BOURNS.
A million tongues are thine, and they are heard
Speaking of hope to nations, in the prime
Of Freedom's day, to hu•tcn on the time -
When the wide world of spirit shall be stirred
With higher stints than now—when man shall call
Each man his brother—each shall tell to each
His tale of love—and pure and holy speech
:he music for the soul's high fe,tival !
'rhy gentle notes are heard, like choral waves,
Reselling the mountain, plain, and quiet vale—
Thy thunder tones are like the sweeping gale,
Bidding the tribes of men no snore he slaves,
And earth's remotest island hears the sound
That floats on ether wings the world around.
From the Alabama Adeneete.
SPEAR KINDLY To THE POOH.
BY' 14 . M.,'LLE tMILIE.
Speak kindly to the poor!
One little word, if timely said,
.May tend to soothe a thousand cares—
May dry the tear by sorrow shed.
let no reproaches front thy lips
Be breathed, which, thou might's not endure;
Oh, give of that which-nothing costs!
• Speak kindly to the poor.
Look gently on the poor!
And not be hasty to depart;
Beneath those homely garments throb
Full many an honest heart.
Thy smile may shed a. heaven of joy;
A sunlight Whit' of hope ensure;
Oh, turn nokthett in scorn away !
Look gently on the poor !
Be friendly to the poor!
To such the promise has been given;
Despised and scoffed at here on earth,
They shall inherit peace in heaven :
But oh ! how sad will be thy fate !
Thou com'st to enter at the door ;
And titurst no banquet there prepared
For any save the poor
The Dying Child's "Good Night."
lu Bath, Maine, a child of Dr. Shaw, two years
of ago, died, after a sickness of six hours, from
eating cobalt . ; prepared for flies. When her eyes
began to grow dint with death, she thucied it was
night, and she was going to sleep, and she died
with her customary "good night, mamma! good
night, mamma t" many times repeated, on her
trembling lips.
In the casement's cooling breeze,
• The happy mother sat at rest;
A little child stood on her knees,
Gazing towards the glowing West!
Iler eyes grow large and very bright,
As the great Sun went out of sight,
And when she found her pretty star,
She cried with joy—" Good night, mamma!
The solemn night had flung its shade
Around the cradle where she lay;
And when she saw the brightness lade
tier little hands forgot their play;
She felt her quiet hoar was near,
And whispered while there fell a tear,
Wutebing the crimson clouds aliu•—
Good night, mamma I—Liood night, mamma!
She henrd the sparrows sing morn
And climbed her elinir to watch them well:
And see the mist rise off the corn,
The lice conic out of the opening bell;
131 d. on her cot she lies again
And a laden cloud is on her - brain:
The moon grows dark as evenings are ;
Truthful she breathes, "(loud night, mamma!'
The Angel Death stood by, ltml smiled ;
His shadow rested on her eyes;
He'd come to.lend the wondering child
Up the long pathway, through the skies ;
Her purple lips are moving still,
'rho' almost sealed in silence chill;
And murmuring, as they stand tukiar,
"Good night, momma!—Good night, mamma V
a" Lines taken from the margihe of a hynu
book nt Christ Church:
I look in vain—he does not come;
Dear, dear! what shall I do?
1 cannot listen as 1 ought,
Unless he listens too!
Ile might have come no well as not !
What plagues these fellows are!
I'll bet lie's fast asleep at home,
Or smoking a cigar.
(asT,Whcodore Parker compares most men who
grow suddenly rich to cabbages growing in a
violet bed ; they mother the violets, but after ull
they are nothing but cabbage heads.
0 The motto with every one-in the civil rela
tion ought to ho "principles and Men," becan,
this is according to order, it is uniting the soul and
the body, the essence and the form together.
r The happiness of life, like the light of day,
consists not of ono brilliant flash, but in a series
of mild, serene IYlts•
r An English writer says 'Victoria is Queen
of England, but Public )pinion is King."
isr If you to prosper and become rich,
get married. When was honey e'rer made with
ono bee in the hive
HUNTINGDON, PA., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 1851:
From .S'artain's Magazine.
A TRUE STORY.
A warn's FIRST GRIM
RIC JOSEPH R. CHANDLER.
Who that has sat down in measureless content,
and enjoyed the pleasures which full gratification
applied, has not at times felt rising in the mind
he painful inquiry, "Ilow long will this last ?
Mutt will occur to disturb the happiness which is
low vonchsafoll" I never had an animal to
ouch I was particularly attached—and I never
nal one from :t cot to a horse to which I was not
trongly attached—that I did not occasionally
iause in my use or corers of it, and ask, "What
rill occur to deprive me of it—accident, escape, or
troth 1"
In the midst of social enjoyment, when the duty
if sustaining the amusement or the conversation
las devolved upon another, how often will the in
miry arise, "Ilow long will this last I" No sign
if rupture is presented, no token of dissolution is
di,ervable ; but there must be a rupture, there
will be a dissolution. Bow will it come, and
vhen
I confess that such anticipations are not always
the evidence of a well balanced nand ; too often
they come from a morbid state of feelings, that
frequently produce the very evils they suggest.—
The anticipation of. evil is not.so mach the result
of unhappy experience, as the consequence of a
want of self-sustaining power.
Years ago it was my chalice to be near a young
woman at the momeut in which she was taking
leave of a lover. She stood a moment and watch
ed his departure, until by turning a corner he
was concealed from her sight.
" Can it lust?" said she to herself. "And why
not? If he loves me now, when my station and
consequently my manners are less desirable than
his, surely he must love me more when I have had
the advantage of hie association, caul have con
stantly improved by that intereotwse." She pas
sed onward. I heard no other words, but her
steps indicated a heart at ease, or if disturbed, it
was the commotion of inexpressible pleasure.
" Can it last? and if not, when will it fail? How
will its diminution manifest itself?" These were
queries which arose in my mind often, as I thought
of the approaching nuptials. And once, a few days
after the . marriage, I saw her leaning against the
trunk of a tree which was then in fall blossom.—
' cihe was evidently connecting her own new estate
with the lovely hopefulness of the brunches above
her, and as she raised her . eyes again, 'twat evi
dent that she was thinking of the future, which
was radiant with hope. For one motnent, a cloud
scented to pass over her face; it was rather doubt
than pain.
She looked again at the tree and its munificence
of bloom; the cloud passed from her face, and she
came away in evident delight.
That was a spring of disappointment, as I re
member, a frost destroyed the early vegetation,
which entirely ruined the blossoms on the tree at
which she had been looking. No fruit was borne.
It was I apprehend, my own infirmity that led
me to think more of the changes which might come
across the path of the newly married person, than
anything in her condition; for thought I subse
quently saw where the danger lurked, yet then it
was with me only the foreshadowing of a some
what morbid sensibility, contrived to anticipate
enough to make the present gloomy- with appre
hensions of the fissure. So I watched: Blessed
be the race of croakers, whose stomachs are con
stantly conjuring up a clottd to darken their minds,
and who are too selfish to let any one pass without
the benefit of their overshadowing fbrebodings.—
I watched this case; for the first exclamation which
I have recorded of this young woman lout touch
ed a elionl of melancholy in my own disposition,
and so I was anxious to see " how long it would
last ;" how long the peace, joy, and domestic fe
licity would continue. It did not seem to me that
the disturbance could originate with her.
• The husband was fond of amusements, and he
kept and used a good gun and some well trained
dogs. But though these drew him occasionally
irons his home, yet the flue disposition of the wife
found in the dumb but sagacious companions of
her husband, objects of regard. She learned to
like them, and, as became their gentle nature,
they loved her, joyed in her caresses, and seemed
to have a sober resolve to witch over her safety,
and to secure it even at the cost of their lives. I
confess that I wag disappointed at this, having
anticipated that the litter of dogs would have dis
turbed the equanimity of the'wife, and thus have
provoked reprisals from the husband.
. It was not long before some event—l think it
was the ordinary result of "security," the mise
rable pride of trying to make one's self conside
rable in jeopardising the peace and comfort of a
fluidly by going "security" for a man, in whom
others would not have had confidence, or they
scours! not have asked security—that swept from
the hitsband a considerable portion of the prop
erty which had made his condition better than the
wife'. Worts marriage.
"And hero," said I, "it will cease. to lag."—
' hope that my feelings wore of the right kind ;
' I think now that they were, only those,of euriosi
ty. Some people seem to desire' evil that they
have foretold. I think I only desired to know•
how the loss of property was to affect the wile.
' tier husband was the first to tell her of the
'
" I ant sorry my dear," said the quiet wife,
" sorry indeed. It will'eompel you to do ranch of
the Wind: which you have hitherto hired others to
perform. Do not let the loss of your property
, mortify •yint, nor suffer yourself to' dwell on the
error, if it was an error, of the act by which the
loss occurred,"
" But you—you, my dear wife—"
" It will not," said she, " essentially affect me;
it will not add to my labors or my anxiety. I
must look after the household atlitirs whether we
have on farm or two."
The wife shed no Leers. She was sorry that
her husband should lose that social distinction
consequent upon some property more than others
possessed; but it was a pardonable feeling in her,
that the loss of property placed her more upon his
level, and removed something of the appearance
of difference between them.
This then was not much of a grief.
" It lasted yet."
The sudden death of the first-born child, a
beautiful boy, was the next disturbing cause. I .
was not in the house during the short sickness of
the child, bat I attended the funeral, and followed
the body front the antique !Muse of mourning to
the church-yard. When the clods fell upon the
coffin, I thought the heart of the mother would
have burst. She leaned over to look down into •
the resting place of her child, and the arm of a
friend seemed necessary to preventher front "go
ing unto him,"
And I said "It lasts no longer."
The friend and neighbor led her back to her
husband. The gentle look of affectionate sympa
thy which Ito gave her as he placed her twin with
' in his, and drew her towards him, that she might
lean on his manly strength, showed me my mis
take.
The mother had suffered, but the affection, nay
the happiness of the wife was complete.
Could a mother be happy returning from the
yet unsodded grave of her only child?
Death had softened her heart, and fitted it for
the ministration of new affection. The haler bad
suffered iu the death of the boy as well and as
much as she, and yet at the. moment of deepest
anguish he had hushed his own grief that he might
sustain her in sorrow. The mother mourned, but
the wife rejoiced. How beautiful and beautifying
for the moment had sorrow become. It seemed
to me as if affection had never before possessed
such charms; it needed affliction apparent, as the
sunlight pouring through crevices into a darkened
chamber becomes visible only by floating parti
cles that reflect the ingushing rays.
The affairs of the couple were not so prosperous
as the virtues, the industry, the economy, and the
womanly, .excellence of the wife seemed to de
serve, yet she never repined. I think one or two
instances of excess on the part of the husband
drew largely upon the forbearance of the wife, but
as even the excess was accompanied with express
ions of affection—they, though maudlin, seemed
to compensate. The feeling then was rather a
slight apprehension for the future than grief for
the present—sorrow and deep mortification might
have beets felt. But these few instances, joined
with some unaccountable decay of means did not
disturb the happiness of the wife, a happiness
which seemed to be a perpetual joy.
Was the woman apathetic? Had she no sensi
tiveness? Was she made to go through life wills
a gentle laugh, and drop into the grave with a
smile Pier anguish at the death of her son pro
ved the contrary.
The loss of property, to one who had been poor
before, seemed to produce no grief; and let the
reader remember, or if he has not known the fact
let him now learn it, that the loss of property is
more bitterly felt by those who have from poverty
risen to possessions, than it is by those who from
infancy to the disaiter had always been rich.
The loss ofproporty pioduces no grief.
The death of her child led to a new affection for
and an enlarged joy in her husband.
His unfrequent but still obvious departure from
sobriety, long unattended with rudeness or neg
lect, did not offend the pride of the wife.
"It will last always," said I.
"I must mourn as a mother," thought she.—
"I must abate a portion of my social state, and I
may, once in a long time, be motified by some
low indulgence in my husband,. but fixed, deep,
permanent grief as a wife it is probable I am to be
spared, as a comparison of my own constitution
with that of my husband shows that in the course
of nature I shall be spared the misery of mourn
ing for his death, and be saved front the solitary
woes of widowhood."
The loss of property rendered necessary more
labor on the part of the husband, and that kept
him more from his home than formerly; but the
gentle welcome of the wife cheered the toil-worn
husband, and her delicate caresses changed the
gloom setting on his brow into smiles of satisfac
tion. There was perhaps more pleasure in the
efforts which she was making to produce the evi
dence of gratification in her husband, than there
was in the mere exchange of smiles of welcome
and thanks. The with grew proud of her lan
' ence to bring him back to enjoyment, she felt
a new consequence when she found that she could
not only reciprocate smiles but dispel frowns, not
only share in the pleasures of home, but dismiss
the pains. How holy is the office of a good with,
aunt how pure must be her sentiments, to derive
the highest gratification by producing the
htippi
ness of another.
It was Into iu a summer aftenoon, and by ap-
Pointmeut the husband ought to have returned
two or three hours before. The noise of revelry
had for a long time disturbed the outer edge of
the village in which the dwelling was situated—
some vulgar frolic, hitherto kept in a distant part'
of the country, had been adjourned to that neigh
borhood—but the way of the husband on his re
turn did not lie in that course. The with had •
gone out frequently to watch for his approach and
to meet him with a smile of welcome—that smile
which makes home delightfid, which attracts and
retains. She by.ke , l anxbiusly to thy left, and
stretched her eyes along the road in hope that
some token of his approach would be presented;
there was none. Even the dogs that had follow
ed her out failed to give notice of his coming.—
She leaned over the railing with distrustless hope
—he would come soon, and would repay her for
all her anxiety by extraordinary evidence of af
fection. She summoned up for her consolation
the thousand kindnesses of her husband, his con
stant, changeless love, his resistance of those er
rors that marred the domestic happiness of so
many ; and liken true wife, she suffered
the lustre of her own purity, excellence, and af
'
fiction, to gild the character stud conduct of tier
husband.
She was started from her revery of delight and
charity by an unusual outbreak oftioisy debauch
ery trout the wretched drinking house below. She
leaned forward, and stood fixed with horror at
the sight.
She had felt a woman's regret for the loss of
property ; the mother had mourned the death of
her child ; and anxiety had been felt for some
slight errors in her husband but property could
be regained by labor, or relinquished without ef
fect—every. dream of the mother gave back to her
heart her beloved child and refreshed with a spir
tuul intercourse; every waking thought that turn
ed toward the dead one, was lustrous with the
sense of his heavenly intercourse, and consoling
in the promise of a future union—the errors of a
husband that do not imply dishonor, nor exhibit
themselves as evidences of waning affection, may
be mended or endured; but when the heart is
suddenly overwhelmed with the evidence of situate,
insult, dishonor, when all the purity of woman's
thoughts is outraged with the proofs of guilt, and
all the years of her charity and enduring love are
dishonored by the unerring tokens of ingratitude
and infinny, and the confiding, the consoling, the
truthful wife becomes the witness of the destruc
tion of her domestic peace, despair sweeps over
the heart, like the blastings of the shnoon ; and
then all the unmentioned sufferings of the woman,
all the cherished sorrows of the daughter, all the
poignant anguish of the mother are lost in over
whelming torrent of—" The Wife's First Oriel:"
Rest of the Sabbath,
Whether we look at the Sabbath as a day of
rest *ern the common toils of life, or as a slay
hallowed and consecrated to the worship of God,
we are alike struck with the wisdom and mercy of
Gad displayed in this institution. Man and beast
require relaxation, that the energies expended in
the labor of six days may be renewed, and each
prepared for the ends of another week. No doubt •
remains but that our physical nature can accent
, plish snore in the space of a year's toil, by resting
one-seventh portion of our time, than if the whole
seven days were employed. And then it forms a
kind of holliday period to which the mind looks
forward as a pause in the busy scenes of lifis, and
gives relief even by anticipation. Ono constant,
unbending round, would so weary the body and
mind as to rcder toil intolerable, and make the
hours to a laboring man burdensome and gloomy.
But look at the Sabbath ne a day of worship.—
The very idea of going to the house of prayer wills
equipage neat and clean, suitable to a decent wor
ship of the God of order, promotes civilization,
and tends greatly to promote the health and hap
piness of those who live in Christendom. And
then, the very fact that the mind is called off from
earthly pursuits, and directed to those objects that
are of a holier character, has a tendency to elevate
the thoughts and feelings of our stature, and can
not fail to sublinnte and refine society. With what
cheerfulness does the mind of the devout worship.
per address itself to its weekly task, after the rest
of the Sabbaths, and the devout exercises of wor
ship in God's holy sanctuary. Viewed in every
light, goodness and wisdom are displayed in the
institution of the Sabbath, and he is both ung,rate
fal and protinio who disregards the law of God,
commanding him to rest and keep the Sabbath
day holy.
Men Imperfect in Society.
Social progress and material civilization lead,
of necessity, to a great variety and subdivision of
pursuits. The struggle for subsistence is so keen,
that a man consents to do but one thing, in order
that he may do that in the best manner. The
whole stream of his activity runs through his hand,
his eye, his tongue, or his brain. The king of tho
Sandwich Islands is said to wear, on state occa
sions, a cloak made of feathers, of which only two
are found in the bird that produces them. In like
manner, civilization flutters in decorations which
have occupied only a fragment or a fibre of a man.
The weaver is en animated shuttle; the seamstress,
a living needle; the laborer, a spade that cats and
sleeps. To find a perfect man, we must take a
brain from one, senses from another, a stomach
from a third, and a conscience from a fourth.—
Hence arises a new and important relation—the
relation between a man and his work. That which
we do, shapes and colors that which wo are. Very
few of the occupations by which men earn their
broad are directly conducive to spiritual and intel
lectual growth. Must of them aro at best but neu
tral in this respect, and few of them are free from
certain dwarfing or deforming tendencies, which a
man sedulous of self-culture will foresee and guard
against.
lair MT. Bons has introduced a proposition in
the Reform Convention of Virginia for abolishing
capital punisluncnt and imprisonment for debt.
INCREASE OF STATES.—In the last ten years
New York has increased 21 per cent. in popula
tion, Ohio 30i, Virginia 15 : 1, and Pennsylvania
34k. Pennsylvania, therefore, has grown consid
erably more in population than either of the other
Mater Rained,
r•P
4-4cOlitr'
nigh Farming,
The English jottroals arc filled with experiments
of high farming, and all agree that fitir remunera
tive profits can only be realizes! by such practice,
while the political economists of Englund boldly
assume "that the adoption of bight fanuing alone,
will render legislative protection nnnecessar:.--
If this be true of England why not with is 1 llas
it not been proved that by using lull (mantities o f
manure' with thorough cultivation, better profits
can be realized even with the first rotation of crops,
than by the ordinary sluggish mode of farming
Do the farmers nut see from past experieoce
what must be the result of longer. continuing the
exhausting process ? Do they not know that one
half of the farms of old Virginia are wont out;
that the wheat crop of Ohio is two-thirds per acre
what it wits thin, years ago, and that the average
wheat crop of New Tuck is nut more than fifteen
bushels per acre. We have published that Dr.
John Woodhull, of Princeton, has raised fifty-seven
bushels of wheat per acre that Allen .Middletr,
of Crusswieks, N. J., and 'natty others, have rais
ed one Imudred and twenty-four bushels of shelled
corn per acre, and indeed all who pursue /oykfUr
"tiny properly are rendering their laud inure valu
able fur future crops.
We are tired of hearing those who have neither
tried nor it wstigated the truths of high fannitig
assert that "it costs too much.” Those who have
tried it know better; the excess of pruiits are al
ways many times greater than the excess a ex
penses. A manufacturer who requires one horse
power to tum his machinery, might us well du it
by Itireing, 11101/ enough to perforin the whole lahor
instead of using the steam engine, as fur a fanner
of this day to refuse the lights of science as appli
ed to agriculture.
We have visited loony farms during the last
three years, and advised modes of manuring, cul
ture, &c., based on the chemical constituents of
the soil, and we venture to assert that in every case
the improved profits of any two acres would have
Paid our whole charge for services. Nur is it ne
cessary that we should be employed ; fur every
farmer who has an analysis made of his soil, and
reads " The Working Farmer" attentively, is en •
Nide, without the advice of any one, to farni with
profit. We should be glad to publish the English
articles on this subject, but at this time they are so
much mixed up with the local polities of the day,
in which our readers have no interest, that we can
not use them.
We last year hired a piece of ground in our own
neighborhood, which was worn out and refused
corn. Last winter we made an analysis of the
and found it short of chlorine, phosphate of
sods, potash, and ammoniactil matter. We ina
mired it this spring with a compost costing one dol
lar and thirty-one cents per acre. The chlorine
and soda were supplied by common salt, the phos
phate of lime, potash and anunoniacal matter by
Peruvia-guano, and the volatile matters of the
compost retained by the use of charcoal dust and
Plaster of NOW. We have now . 11 crop of corn
standing on this land which will yield certainly
more than filly bushels of shelled corn per acre;
and after measuring, we hope to be able to report a
much larger crop, and think too without the proper
Preparation of the ground by subsoil plowing, &e.,
us on our own farm. We invite our readers to visit
us and see this field fur themselves.—The Iriffking
!Arnie,
Hints for Young Ladies.
If a young woman waste in trival amuseinents,
the prime season fur improvement, which is be
tween the ages of sixteen aud twenty, they regret
bitterly the loss, when they come to feel them
'lves interim• in knowledge to ahnost every one
they converse with; and above all if they should
ever he motherS, when they feel their inability to
direct and assist the pursuits of their children,
they find ignorance a severe mortification and a
real evil. Let this animate their industry, and
let a modest opinion of their capacities be an en
couragement to them in their endeavors after
knowledge. A moderate understanding, with
diligent and well directed appligation, will go
much farther than a more lively genius, if attend
ed with that impatience and inattention which too
often accompany quick parts. It is not for want
of capacity that so many women ate such trifling,
insipid companions, so ill qualified for the friend
ship and conversation of a sensible man or fur the
task of governing and instructing a family; it is
often from the neglect of exercising the talents
which they really have, and front omitting to cul
tivate a taste fur intellectual improvement; by
this neglect they loss the sincerest pleasures,
which would remain when almost every other for
sakes them, of which neither fortune nor age can
deprive them, and which would ho a comfort and
resource in almost every possible situation in
life.-Itta. Clapone.
MAINT FACTOMEs.—The AtigsSta Journal
says :—"We understand that it is decided to con
tinue about 200 looms in opperation for sonic
months longer at least. But a reduction iu wa
ges of about 8 per cent, is made. This was con
sidered the only alternative to en entire stoppage.
The whole number of looms in the mill is about
300."
Cr A ddllist who fancied himself insulted by
a Yankee who had won tin: afreciions of his lady
love, left tho room with ominous words :
hear front me, sir:"
" Well, do so," replied the Yankee ; "glad on't ;
write once in a while; I should he glad to hear f'rum
you ns often as yon have a mind to let me kuoW how
you're vain' along."
CUBAN ANNEXATLON.-111 the U. SteteS Senate
on Tuesday, Mr. Baldwin, of Arkansas, presented
petition in fever of the rterittisition.of culni,Us
the Viiited :Stater,
i t r
VOL. XVI.---NO. 7.
Al1(.0 ion to Person al Appearance.
: 1 4 inc, however elegant in manner, or well.
informed, can be acceptable to bit acquaintance,
finless scrupulously neat and clean. Negligent,
in this repect not only implies Insufferable inch
knee, but indifference whether we please or not
In sonic it betrays it degree of affectation; in out
ms, a disregard Ow the tt
of society, a cer
fain aysamplion 'or Ewing approved without deign
lug to no, such tot,. 1.1, invn in gen4,..11 art; 01110
The v.,i,c, and manner of speaking, should
likewke he earefidly attended to. Some young
people mumble over their words : others speak
fast as to be scarcely intelligible : some or( il'entte
aLisper ill tiltell .11. 71lalleer 415 Seal . Cely to be heard:
atl tunny will put their liteC so close to yours to
to edls t you A, ith their breath. We km, a
rt`rsti)l ..:1•• 011-breil nut
highly eilm•atial, avoided on
aveount of this habit. 4 I , ,•••tiliillities are
extremely ilisagreeitdle, but :11,1y readily b 0 got
rid rf.
Do not think that the mention of such small
dkuroptfii.
thonsana little nameless things, which every
one fuels, constitute an ill or well-i.rud ;
Ittul many a sen,ible and meritorious man has lost
ground by itegleeting do:minor graces; while ill,
it is nut so.—
Fruits of Virtuc
If you should see a men digging in a snort• drift
old, the expectation of finding valuable ore, or
planting seed., upon the rolling billows, you would
say at once that he was beside himself. But in
what respect does this man differ front you, while
you sow the seeds of idleness and dissipation in
your youth, and espeet the fruits of age will be a
good constitution, elevated affections and holy
principles? If you desire a various end happy
life, in youth you must shape your character by
the Word of unerring wisdom, end plant in year
bosons the seeds of holiness.
Ed ucal ion,
The following instructions were given by a Wl3O
parent to the tutor aids son t
" I value the instilling of a single principle of
goodness or honor into the mind of my dear child,
beyond all the Wealth that the Indies ran remit.
"First be it your care to instruct him in moral
ity ; and let rho law precede the gospel'—fur stick
was the education which Cod appointed fur the
world. Give him, by kindlier and historical lu
st:mem, ant early impression of the shortness of ht
man.life, and of the nature of the world in which
he is placed. Let him learn, from this day forward
to distinguish between natio.] :Ind imaginary wants
and that nothing is estimable, or ought to be dmi
ruble, but so far as it is necessary or useful to man.
Instruct my darling, daily and hourly, if possible,
in a preferenee'of manners and things which bear
; :In intrinsic value, to those which receive their t a
: lite and currency front the arbitrary and tickle
stamp of fashion. Show hint, also, that the same
toils and sufferings, the sumo poverty and pain
from which people now fly us front it plague, were
once the desire ocherous and the fashion ofnations;
and that thousands of patriots, of captains and phi
losophers, through a love of their country or of
glory, of applause during life or distinction after
death, have Iljeet ed wealth andpleasure, embraced
want and hareship, and suffered morn from a vol
untary mortification and self denial, than our church
seems to require in these days, for the conquest of
,ensual world into which we are fallen, and for
enticing us to a crown in the kingdom of eternity."
Brevit y in Woman,
We find in a California diary the following
glorification of a quality we shoud like. "A
man of thw words" is very' moll, ' lint, 4 'll WOlll7lll
of few, words" is a matter open to argument:
I encountered to-day, in a ravine, mute three
Miles distant, among the gold washers, a woman
from San Jose. She was at work with a large
wooden bowl by the side of the stream. I asked
her how long she had been there, and how muds
gold she averaged n day. She replied .three
weeks nod an ounce." Her reply reminded me
of an anecdote of the late Judge 11-,who
met a girl returning from market and asked her,
"Lott - deep did you find the stream 1 what did
you get for your butter 1" '"Up to the knee and
nincpenec," was the reply. "All !" mid the
judge to himself. "She is the girl forme; ho
words lost there ;" turned back, proposed, was !te
mpted, and married the next week,' , and 71. more
happy couple the conjugal bonds never united;
the nuptial lamp never waned; its ray was steady
and dear to the last. Ye who paddle oft and on
for seven years, and are at last capsized, take a
to on of the judge. That "op to the kme and
ninepenee" is worth all the rose letters and mel
ancholy rhymes ever penned. •
CZ A. youth baring brought a blush to
.the
check of a maiden, by the earnestm, or his gaze,
said +. her, My eyes hove planted Isiscs on your
cheeks; why forbid:me to gatl:ei• them lie whb
sows should reap the harvest. "
- .
12 — There is said to be but one plide-hourd iu
the whole State of Rhode Island, soul that 'points
the wrong way—and if a man asks directions, they
set the dogson' him. •
Gl'lto hardest thing to hohi hi this w aid is on
unruly tobgtic. It beats a hot smoothing iron owl
kicking horse considerably.
(Wit is said them are 400,000 fenthen= upon the
tho wing ofn silk worut moth, end nny ono doubt
ing tic truth ..tithe A:Ovine:W. 1111111SVIt*
thew.