• 9 6 vetve o 1A.1 4 ( 11 4 (0/btitt • , I I " BY J. A. HALL. TERMS. The 'fILUNT.I;IODON JOURAL"is pnblished at the following yearly rathst If paid in advance $1,50 If paid within the year 1,75 , 'And two dollars and fifty cents if not paid till after the expiration of the year. No subscription will he taken for a less period than six months, and no paper will be discontinued, except at the trption of the published, until all arrearages arc paid. After the close of the present vol., sttbscri bers living in distant counties, or in other States, will be required to pay invariably in advance. • ar The above terms will be regiilly adhered to in all eases. BATES OF ADVERTISING. One dq ua re of vixteen lines or less F o r I inserti o n $0,50, For t month $1,25, " 2 " 0,75, " 3 " 2,75, 1,00, " 6 5,00, PittirrastoNAL CAitne, not exeeeiling ten lines, and not changed hiring the year• • • • $4,00, Card and Jininial. in inivalice. OO 13ninNEsa C.kiiiis tithe smile length, not elian ged, ti:3,oo I,aril and Jouniall in ailviniee, 4;00 On longer advertisements. witether yearly or transieut, a reasonable deduction will be made and a liberal discount allowed tbr prompt pay- Meat. Vortical. AN INGEL BY THE HEARTH. They tell me guseen spirits Around about us glide; Beside the still• waters 1)::r erring funtsteps guide: "l'is nleasatut, tints believing 'Chef r mini.o y on earth : lknow en angel sitteth This moment by my heau•th. tr false-lights, on waters, To wreck my soul appear; With finger upward pointing, She turns me with a tear: 'Twere base to slight the warning., And count it little worth, Of her, the loving angel, That silted: by my hearth. She wins me with caresses V onn passions dark 'ldles; She guides me Mien I falter, And strengthens nil with smiles; It may be, unseen angels Beside tne,journey forth, I knot,. thst one is sitting This moment be nn• hearth. A loving wife• brothers, An angel here below) Alas! your eyes arc holdvit Too t7ften 'till they go; Ye upward look while grieving, When they have pass'd from earth;— O cherish well, those sitting This moment by the hearth ! ~~iP~ccrr.~tttcott~. The Night Before Christiu;* There are many sunny glimpses, and bits of the picturescie, to be met with in our journey through life, dear reader—don't you think so I Then, is it not a very foolish thing to plunge gloomily in among the shadcws, to aviod meeting with those golden gleams that glide at brilliant intervals, across the pathway of the years As the maidens of South America gath er fire-flies, to light up, with their soft, pale flames, the masses of their dark hair —even so will a tho'►ghtful man garner up flitting fragments of brightness, that, thro' the aid of the arch magician, Memory, they may illumine the blackness of a present sorrow. If we walk through the world, looking neither to the right hand nor the left, we shall miss many a wayside flower that might have beguiled, with its mute love-language, leagues of heart weariness. But if we wander in our appointed path with our shi ning robes about us; with a smile for ono, a warm grasp for another, and a spare coin slipped quietly into the outstretched hand of poverty, we shall find the world much nearer heaven than some incredulous per sons imagine it to be. . I have a few more words for your ear, gentle reader, this pleasant Chrismast eve. DeneVolence does not consist in giving coin merely. Cheerful smiles, and kindly words, often do more good than the rich luau's purse. Doubtless there are times when our own griefs lay cold about us, like snow in patch ed; and the very sun looks' wintry, seen through sad eyes; but our sorrows will sure ly moltaway in the reviving warmth of true Faith, and if good seeds have been planted in a proper soil, they will soon put forth green leaves, and after a while will come buds, and blossoms of sweet odor. Tliore never was a good deed flung noise lessly upon the ebbing wave of time but what scented the air around with its fra grance, and returned rosily to the doer at some future flowing in of the tide. If you practice the amenities to those of adult age, dear readei, you shall do well. You shall do better still, if you extend yuor graciousness to little children. HUNT To bo a sage in reason, and a child at heart, is to be gifted with the best attri butes of humanity. It is only a child-man that ,can love little children dearly, and attach them to him with all the native' warmth of their young affections. When we, wrap ourselves in our dignity, we may become objects of wonder and of awe to youthful minds; but we shall fail to win either their rtverence, or their love. The nearer our manliness approaches child likeness, the nearer we are to heaven, for it implies both purity and simplicity. • It is neither, then, descending, aor con deeending, to enter with children Into their little sports; . to soothe them in their infan tile troubles; or to bond your maturer mind to the telling of pretty stories, adapted to the listening ears of the tender group that will gather, on such occasions, and stsnd in rapt wonder about your knees.. They are the best of auditors, for skepti cism is with them an unknown feeling; and while they marvel greatly, they implicitly believe. And then, their imagination! How viv idly it pictures all the personages of the. story; and with what an easy readiness their credulity admits all manner of violations of natural law 4! The wolf that speaks to lit tle Red Riding Hood, and bids her pull tho. bobbin of the latch, is for them a veritable wolf endowed with human organs. They absolutely see the marvellous bean stalk of Jack the Giant Killer shoot up, its topmost high in the air, and sustain upon topmost branches another world, where ogres dwell in great castles, and subsist by devouring little children: The seven league boots, and the coat of invisibility, have a real existence iu their imagination. The wonderful achievements of the little hero delighted them beyond measure; and v ith what shouts of rapturous rejoicing they clap their tiny hands, when the valiant Jack severs the bean stalk with his hatchet, and the huge giant comes top- . pling down headlong, and stretches his great length, prone and motionless ; upon the earth. 'When you toll them the story of Alad din and his wonderful lamp, how absolute ly breathless is the interest you excite!— book, how the Hide mouth partly opens, and the eye be ones fixed, and the counte nance changes to an expression of fear, or .sorrow, or intense joy, as the marvellous tale progresses. But the tale is not marvellous to them. They believe it all. They would not thank you to tell them that Aladdin never exist ed. They see him in his youthful poverty.! They are eye witnesses of his meeting with the Dervish. They go down with him into ' the cavern, and pluck with him the many colored fruit-jewels of the tree. When the mouth of the cavern ()loses over Aladdin, it shuts them in also. When he rubs the lamp in his despair, they see the genius of the lamp rise out of the ground at their Net. They are among the spectators at the wedding of Aladdin with the Princess, and take an especial delight in the gorge ousness of the cdremony. Quickly as his magnificent palace rose ih the night, they saw it grow, and expand from the foundation stone to the pinnacle of the dome, with all its glorious orna ments, its rich gilding, and its.vivid colors. Their keen eyes detect the character of the disguised magician who goes about sel . . ling new lamps for old; and their hearts beat with rapid-throbs,- as the simple wife of Aladdin exchanges his wonderful talis man for a common household vessel. And then, when the palace rises sudden ly in the air, they are lifted with it like wise; :dill are borne aloft, and arc carried with it into a far country, neither knowing, nor caring Vatter, hut moving wherever the course if the story takes them, and . . . - coming back, at length,' to the' world of their own home, with a sort of dreamy be wilderment, followed by a deep drawn sigh. But, not alone has a child faith in those wonderfully-written stories, which from the time of Saxon Alfred, have made at willing prisoner of the ear, and plumed the rapt fancy of Vie young mind for excursive flights into an ideal world. He believes, as readily, in the oral tra- ditions whi3li have descended from father to son through many centuries, and though tricksy fairies that once fed on honey dew, and rocked thensclves to sleep in the cha lices of flowors,-or danced gay dances in circles upon the green sward—circler made darker by the pressure of their tiny feet have strangely disappeared from the sophisticated eyes of modern people, the child still throws himself back into the me dieaval ages, and dwelling with the cotter at his rude fireside, admits no shadowy doubts to destroy the perfection of the dolicions vision. For him, too, oven now, in his tenderer years, Santa Claws is a real presence.— Has he not seen him delineated in pictures, stepping down a chimney, bearing on his back that astonishing variety of toys and confections, with part of which he benefb lently fills the stockings of all good chil dren, somewhere between the closing in of Christman eve and the morning of that day NGDON; PA.; THURSDAY, DECEMBER 23, 1852. which commemorates the birth of the Sa viour of mankind? And so, even to this day, little children hang up their stock ings over the fire place, not doubting to find them supplied with good things in some mysterious manner, when they rise at break of day, and slip down stairs, with beating hearts, to seize on the treasure which has come to them while they slept. And do not some of them peep cautiously up the chimney before they retire to rest, to see if Santa Claus is already there; while others gaze at the pendant stockings long and earnestly, hoping to behold them in the act of being filled with their choice contents by inviable hands: • And the father and mother look grave ly on with only a slight curve of their lips, and a mutual glancing of eyes. Good aunt Margaret, holding the lamp in one hand and the youngest child by the other, coax es the children to come to bed; telling them that Santa Claus is a timid gentleman, who loves to bestow his favors in secret, and will not make his appearance while there arc any youthful eyes watching for his coming. And now, dear reader, let us remember in this season of festivity that the poor, al so, are, in some sort, 'children—children of a celestial father; that many of them hang their empty wallets over a darkened hearth, and go to sleep, in humble and pi ous trust; believing, that in some mysteri ous and unknown manner, Humanity will come, like the Santa Claus of little chil dren, and gladden their eyes, and strength en their faith, by its well-timed gifts. The Camel. The want of good pastures and fresh streams is very unfavorable to cattle, but the camel makes amends to the Tartars of the Ortor.s for the absence of the rest. It is the real treasure of the desert; it can re manin fifteen days or even a mouth with out eating or drinking, and however miser able the country it always finds something to satisfy it, especially if the soil is impreg nated with salt of nitre; plants that other animals will not touch—brambles or even dry wood serve it for food. Yet little as it costs to keep, the camel is more useful than can be imagined out of the countries where. Providence has placed it. Its or- dinary burden is seven cr eight hundred weight, and thus ladenod it can go forty miles a day. In many Tartar countries, they are used to draw the coaches of the'' king or princes, but this can only be on flat ground for their fleshy feet would not • permit them to ascend hills and draw a car riage after them. Notwithstanding the softness of its foot, however, the camel can walk over the roughest roads, stones, sharp thorns, roots of trees, &0., without being hurt. But if obliged to walk t.o far, the real sole of its foot wears out, and the flesh is bare. The Tartars, under such circumstances, make it shoes with sheep skin; but if, after 4his, their journey is still much prolonged, the creature lies down and must be abandoned. There is nothing the camel dreads, so lunch as a wet and marshy soil. When it places its foot on mud, and finds it slips, it begins to stagger like a drunken man, and often falls heavity on its side. Every year, towards the spring, the camel loses its hair, and it all goes to the last frag ment before the new comes on. For about twenty days, it is as naked as if it had been clean shaven; from head to tail; and then it is extremely sensitive to cold and rain. You may see it shivering all over,' like a man exposed without clothes. But by degrees the hair grows again; at first it is extremely fine and beautiful, and when it is once more icing and thick the camel can brave the severest frost. It delights then in marching against the north wind, or standing on the top of a hill to be beat en by the tempest and breathe the freezing air. Naturalists have somatimes said, that camels cannot live in cold countries; but they could hardly have meat to speak of Tartar meets, whom the least heat ex hausts and who certainly could not bear the climate of Arabia. The fur of an ordinary camel weighs about ten pounds; it is sometimes as fine as silk. That whic the camel has under its neck and along its legs is rough, tufted and black; but tho hair in general is roadish or gray. Tho Tartars do not take any care of it, but suffer it, when it falls off, to bo .lost. In dr) pineos whore the camels toed, you see great bunches of it, like old rags blowing about, and sometimes in the hol lows and corners of the hills, largo quanti ties will be drifted by the wind. But it is neves picked up, or only a small portion of it, to wake a coarse sort of sacks or oar pets. trf-A. woman residing in Ciueinnutti, Who has been married thirty-four years, and is now in her sixty-ninth autuuin, agreeably astonished her husband by preseting Lim last week, with a pair of twins, bouncing boys, the first children to whom she ever gave birth. Becoiniag a mother at this period and for the fiirst time, is not a little singular. Some Account of Paganini:, The far-famed Italian musician . was born in 1784. He is justly celebrated for his wonderful power over that most expressive of all musical instruments, the violin; for the brilliancy of his mechanical execution, and for the pathos of those tones which he used to draw, as it were, wailing forth from that one string, on which, in the latter part of his life, he invariably played. The fol lowing is a brief sketch of his childhood, and of his subsequent career es a violinist. Paganini, when only six years of ago,' played the violin; at eight, composed hi, ' first Sonata; and at nine, made his first pul, • lie tipp6arance. Other children have shown the same precocity of talent, but their af ter efforts never equalled his. When thir- • teen years of age, Paganini commenced his professional tour. At Parma, Pasina, an eminent painter and violin player, to . test his powers, brought him a MS% concerto, containing the most difficult passages, and placing in the hands of the boy musician an excellent Straduari violin; "This," said he, "shall be yours, if you can play in a mas terly manner this concerto at first sight." "If that is the case," said Paganini, "you may bid adieu to it," and forthwith pro ceeded with the piece in so exquisite a man ner that Pasiui was thrown into raptures. llis course as a young man was by no means free from vice and folly, and gam bling and looseness of morals sullied his fame. Many crimes have been attributed to him, murder not excepted, all of which his biographer, Who traced his whole life, shows to have been the purest inventions. In 1804, however, he broke off his vicious habits, and again commenced severe appli cation to the study of his violin. In this lay the secret of that unapproached maste ry which he obtained over the instrument. Gifted by nature with the highest musical I genius, he undoubtedly was, but he poss-1 essed that which always powerfully aids in' the development of genius—perseverance. He has been known to play the same pas sages in a thousand different ways during ten or twelve hours, and to be completely overwhelmed with fatigue at the end of the day. The severity of this early study suf ficiently accounts for what passed for a mir acle in his after life, viz : his never practi cing. W. 11. C At the age of '2l, he commenced a new musical tour in Italy. At Lucca, he be came conductor of the opera concerts, and director of music to the Princess Baccioehi, the sister of Napoleon, who regarded him with something more than esteem. Here, on one occasion, he astonished the court by entering the saloon with only two strings to his violin—the first and fourth. On these he played, to the perfect ravishment of his auditory, a duet expressive of jeal ousy and subsequent reconciliation between two lovers. After it was over, the Prin cess said to him, "Von have performed im possibilities—would not a single string sta tics, you for your talent ?" Paganini, who himself narates the incident., says, "I prom ised to make the attempt. The idea do ligted me. Some stocks after, I composed my military sonata, "Napoleon," which I perforined an the 25th of Angst, before a brilliant court. Its success far surpassed iny expectations; my predilection for the string dates from this period." Thus are at once disposed of all the received stories of his being compelled to adopt one string, by having worn out the others during an alleged imprisonment. His subsequent career in London, Paris, and the,principle European capitals, was ' of the most brilliant and suceessfuL oh erec ter, and the fortune he realized, immense. His death took place at Nice, a Mediterra nean seaport, situated on the confines of France and Italy, on the 27th of May, 18- 40: His last hours aro thns affectingly given by an Italian writer : "On the last night of his existence, he appeared unusually tranquil. He had slept little. When ho awoke, he requested that the curtains of his bed should be drawn aside, to contemplate the moon, which was advanciug calmly in the immensity of the pure heavens. While steadfasly gazing at the luminous orb, he again became drowsy, but the murmuring of the neighboring trees awakened in his breast that sweet agitation which is the reality of the beautiful. At this solemn hour he seemed desirous to re turn to nature all the soft sensations which he was then possessed of; stretching forth his hand towards his enchanted violin—to the faithful companion of his travels•—to the magician which had robbed care of its stings—ho sent to heaven, with its last sounds, the lust sigh of a life which had been all melody." That instruniert he bequeathed to his fa iorite pupil and friend, Camillo Sivori. Ox.—The .New York wirer states &ill on Wednesday evening last au ox be- came wild and at the corner of Vend= and Varick streets, teased a littlo boy na med John Quin into the the air. The little sufferer was severely briused, and received a frightful wound in the head, but is in a fair wa.y of recovery. The enraged animal was. shot l after repeated, attempts, at the corner [of Broome and Varick streets. Anecdote of Dean Swift Ibed, and what is called 'the hardy manner in which he is reared.! . The civilized man The following is well authenticated. A has a better constitution, if he is a man gentleman who was in the habit of attend of temperate habits, and he has also a ing the ministry of Dean Swift, and much i addicted to sporting; very frequently sent stronger frame and can endure morn fa presents of game to the Deanery. The i li g" - ' 's army, at the fficer s of NapoleCit footman who went to the door complained The l o to his master that the man invariably de- retreat from Moscow, endured the fatigue livered the game in a very unbecoming i far better than the common soldiers, and 'there ire abundant evidences to prove that manner. 'Tell me,' said the Dean, 'when he a generous rearing tenths to prOduce a tn.' comes again, and-I will go to the door.'— Soon after, the footman announced to the bier physical and mental constitution, than that to be rearecl amid poverty and stunted Dean the man's arrival with another pre with hardshi:, Those who point to the ad sent. The binni Immediately went to the vantages of a barbaric life _cap:find no at door, and was thus accosted, 'Please my Bement master's sent this hare.' 'Now,' said theument for bettering the condition of the p Dean, with some appearance of displeasure poorer classes. It is an old and exploded 'that is not the in. his voice and xuanner ' doctrine, that the children of the poor are way to deliver a message from your master healthier and stronger than the children of the rich. If this were true, poverty sure tohere; just step within and suppose yourself ly were a blessing. Wo conclude by say and I will go out and come to the door and be Dean Swift, and give me tbe hare ing that good, soft and cleanly - beds for show you how you ought to delive your children and adults,will tend greatly to rpro message.' The man having agreed to this mote health, by producing refreshing slum temporary exchange of their respective so 7 her, especially to the weary workman. --414-4 cell positions, this eteefitrie divine imme- [Scientific 4merican. 1.1.100- - (1 iat e 1 y took the hare, went out of the house •.-- Who is Krim; Kringle ? with it, and having taken a short walk up the street, returned and gave a suitable It MU: the day before Christmas-4.! knock at the door. It was immediately ways a day of restless, hopeful excitement opened. 'lf you please ski' said.tbe tem- among the children; and my thoughts were porary servant in a most respectful Man- busy, as is usual at this season, with little nor, 'my master's compliments, and he wish -1 plans for increasing. the gladness of my as you to accept this hare.' ,0 ! thank 'happy household. The name of the good you,' said the man, acting the part of the genius who presides over toys and sugar plums was often on my lips, but oftener on his purse, Dean to the very life, and taking out i 'here i s a half-crown for the lips of my children. you 'lt is almost unnecessary to add that "Who is Kriss Kringle, mamma 1" asked the hint was taken, and the man for the fu- a pair: of rosy lips, close to my ear, as I • stood at the !7telicii table, rolling out and lure delivered his presents of game with a proper courtesy and respectfulness, re- cutting cakes. ceiving with every delivery a trifle fur Lis : I turned at the question, and met the trouble I earnest gaze of a couple of bright eyes, the Sleep. Man is so constituted, that engaging either in physical or mental labor for a cer tain number of hours every day .a feeling of fatigue is induced and ho sinks into a state of unconsciousness for a number of hours, and then awakens with 'nature re freshed,' and ready to toil for profit or pleasure. It is a necessary part of our exis tence to enjoy sleep, and the more uninter rupted, the more refresbing it is. It is during the hours of sleep that the electric battery of the nervous system is replenish ed with invigorating power. It is therefore a matter of no little consequence to exam ine into the means which will tend to re freshing repose. The state of the body before going to bed, the kind of bed clothes, and ventillation must all be then taken into account. A full meal before going to bed, generally causes unpleasing night visitations and broken sleep; there fore it should be avoided. It is not so re freshing for a person to lie on the back, al though many prefer lying on their back, or on the left Fide. In regard to the kind of beds most suit able for refreshing slumber, there are dif ferences of opinion; some are advocates for soft, and.some for hard beds. The differ ence between the two is this— , the wei,ht of .tho body on a soft bed presses on a lar ger surface than on a hard bed, and con sequently more comfort is enjoyed.' Child ren should never he allowed to sleep on hard beds, and parents err who suppose that such beds contribute to health, har dotting and developing the constitution of children. We have read accounts of a feW, quilts being good beds for children in the summer; .oflicrs 'a corn husk mattress,' or, a pine board with a pine of woolen laid upon it.' Tho latter kind of n bed is a gross violation of the laws for the preser vation of health. Eminent physicians, Dr. Darwin among the number, states that 'ford beds' have frequently proven injuri ous to the shape of infants. Birds cover their nests for their offspring with the soft est down or the most velvety moss. Tho softness of a bed is no evidence of its be ing unhealthy, and they have but n poor understanding of the laws of nature who. think otherwise. To render slecti - refreshing, the body should be bathed every night,and the bed. room should be of large dimensions; not the life-destroying boxes named 'bed rooms,' for which our cities are famous, owing to the value of city property. Front current statistic, it has been observed that the deaths of children of the pourer classes un der ten years of age, in proportion to the children of the higher classes, are as ton to live. Poor beds is one cause of this mor tality. Above all things, however, it should never be overlooked, that cleanli ness tends more to healthful sleep than anything else. In warns weather, night clothes should be light, and a thin blanket is . perhaps the beat covering that can used, but many asitart that a cotton' sheet is preferable; and if the clothing' products of warns eli mates are any data whereby we may. form a correct opinion, the latter Covering must be the best. It is alt nenseneo. te suppose that the Arabian has a sounder coustitu ' tip, a stronger frame, and can bear wore than the civilized man, owing to his squalid VOL. 17, NO. 51 , _, roguish ownerof which had climbed into a chair for the purpose of taking note of my doings. I kissed the sweet lips, but did not an- Slyer. "Say, manure? Who is Kriss Kringlel" persevered the little one. . . . "Why, don't you know?" said I, smiling. "No, mamma. Who is he 1" \i "Why, he is—he is—Kriss Kringla." "Oh, mamma! Say, won't you tell mar `Ask papa when he corned home," I re turned evasively. I ' I never like deceiving children in any thing. And yet, Christmas after Christ mas, I have imposed on them the pleasant fiction of Kriss Kringle, without suffering very severe pangs of conscience. Dear lit tle creatures ! how fully they,believed, at 'first, the story; how soberly and confiding- I • ly • they hung their stoe,kings in the shim-' Iney corner; with what faith and joy did ; they receive their many gifts on the never ! to-be-forgotten Christmas morning ! Yes, it is a pleasant fiction; and if there be in it a leaven of wrong, it is indeed a small portion. "But why won't you tell ine, mamma 1"- persisted my little interrogator. "Don't yo ow Kriss Kringlel" "I hever saw him c dear," said I "Has papa seen him 1" "Ask him when ho comes,home." "I wish Missy would bring me, Oh, such an.elegant carriage and four horses, Iwith a driver that could get down and go up again." If I see him, I'll toll him to bring you just such a nice carriage." . "And will he do it, mammal" The I dear child clapped his hands together with delight: - - "I guess sb." "I wish I could see him," he said more soberly and thoughtfully. And thou, as if some new impression had crossed. his mind, he hastened down from the chair and went gliding from the room. half an hour afterwards as I came into the nursery, I saw my three "olive branch !es," clustered together in a corner, hold ! ing grave counsel on some subject of int. portance; at least to themselves. They be cam silent at my presence; but soon be gan to talk aloud. I listened to a few words, but perceived nothing of particular ' concern; then turned sey thoughts away. 1 "Who is Kriss Kingle, papal" I heard my cherry-lipped boy asking of Mr. Smith, soon after be came house in the evening. I The answer I did not hear.. Enough ' that the enquirer did not s.ppeer satisfied ( therewith. . At tea-time, the children were not in very good appetite, though in fine spirits. As soon as the. evenine. ° meal was over, Mr. Smith went out to buy presents fur ~nr little - ones; -while I took upon myself the task of getting them off early to bed. ' A Christmas-tree bad been obtained ' during the day, and it stood in one of the ' parlors, on a table. Into this parlor the. good genius was to descend during' ' thi: night, and hatq on'tha brunches of the I tree, or leave upon the:table, his gifts for I the children. This was our arrat.gement. I The little ones expressed some doubts as to whether Krit.'s Kringlo would come to i this particular room; and little "cherry I lips" couldn't'just sea how the genius was going to get down the chimney, when th , . fire-place was closed no.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers