VOL. 18.
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PUE4ERGIC6.
To Our "Mutilated Flag."
"At one of the banquets given to Mrs. Her.
rietß. Stowe, in Edinburg, Scotland, she (an
American woman) shared in the festivities while
the American Flag was displayed in a terribly
mutilated condition—having the stars without
the stripes."
Blush, blush, then proud dishonered Flag,
For once forget thy birth,
The stare have parted with the stripes,
'" And thou should'st droop to earth.
The fatal breeze that's round thee now,
Will never let thee wave,
The very air a traitor breathes
Is deadly as the grave.
A foreign power may well deride
The land she calls her own,
When she can frown on "Freedom's signs."
For ilatery from a throne.
She caught the taint from ARNOLD'S breath,
In passing o'er the sea,
And through her reins the poison ran,
Till she despised the Free.
There's scarce a man that God has left
So far removed from Heaven,
But to his soul some noble life,
Some love of home is given :
But when he hears his country's praise;
Will feel a warmer glow,
Will share the fortunes of her friends—
And spurn her every foe.
The very Pirate while he moves
A scourge upon the deep,
And watches every distant ship
Ho hopes to win and keep,
Will falter when his native flag
Floats from the mast-head high,
And to his heart will come the scenes
Of brighter years gone by.
But Woman, she who all her life
Has watched young Freedom's light,
And seen her stars come one by one
From out the gloom of night.
She, she could see Columbia's flag
Abused by touch profane,
And yet from hands so soiled and base
Can take her sordid gain.
And she can yield her purchased sighs
For those that yet are free.
Beside the "pauper hordes" that live
In dens of misery.
They breathe the damp and aulphurous air,
That earth would cast away,
They know no God, no Hope, no Heaven,
They see no light of day.
0, would that those dear banner folds,
With half their glory shorn,
Could once descend the cavern homes,
Where "Barrisu SLAVES" are born,
Then would our Genius linger there,
To guard her holy prize.
.And stranger lips would bless the flag
A daughter can despise.
IMil@A2ll,llaßlEotn3.
Little Folks at Home,
Has your experience in watching the dove
opment of those floweriof eternity never ii
formed you that the child's year of all others
richest in graces of body and mind is thefifthi
Mine has; I well remember how often, when
my boy was at that age, the clear look of the
large, round eyes, that seemed to mirror heav
en, and the few simple words from the frank
lips, told like a rebuke upon some light word or
act of the parent. And now his sister has
cached that most interesting period, so rich
with lessons worth reading.
Wo live in the country, and our neighbor
mod is measured by miles, not "blocks." One
winter evening, not long ago, while the family
were, as usual, gathered around the centre ta
ble, a neighbor drove up, and, entering soon
with hearty friendliness, had Kitty on his knee.
"Come Kitty," said he, "won't you go home
and live with me?" The child looked up in
his face; the golden curls fell backward to her
shoulders; and her deep blue eyes met his as
she answered
God gave me this house."
The tone was simple as the words, and the
silvery voice was childhood's; yet for a mo
ment the sounds seemed as if wafted from a
far-off-world where angels only dwelt. A
shadow—no, not a shadow, but a sober bright
ness, as of something profound and holy, was
cast over the meditative mood of the dwellers
in "this house;" and every heart within it swell
ed with gratitude for the groat God's gift.
Kitty still calls my daily trip into town "go.
ing down-town," as when wo lived "up-town."
The other day, she was sitting alone with me
in the library, and as usual, on my knee, when,
after a moment's reflection, oho threw the
brightness of her blue oyes into mine, and said:
"Do you ever get time to say your prayers
down-town, papa?" "Heaven bless the child!
No! no Too little time is taken us the tur
moil of "down-town" for breathing a prayer to
heaven for its blessings on our work!"
Not long since, I was on a visit to a sister,
whose hew is made joyous by the presence of
Buutiugboit •rnruaL
" I ERN NO STAR ABOVE THE HORIZON, PROMISING LIGHT TO GUIDE US, BUT THE INTELLIGENT, PATRIOTIC, UNITED Wino PARTY OP THE UNITED STATES.".
three bright eyed "wee things," whose unceas
sing chatter makes sweet household manic. I
arrived in the early evening, just in time to
hear their sweet good-night; and in the morning
with the lark I heard their frolic voices. I wan
soon among them. It was one of those gm ,
goons autumnal mornings which sometimes
kiss the fading brow of October. As I descen
ded to the parlor, "How do you do, uncle 7"
was the united cry; when a dear little girl, of
four smiling summers, caught me by the hand,
and hanging fondly thereby, raised her bright
eyes, and, with a half tearful expression, said:
"I am so sorry, uncle, that you staid no long in
your room I" "Why, my dear I" said L "0
dear, it's all gone now !" she replied, "but I do
wish you had been up early, for the morning
made the sky look so beautiful when the night
went to bed!"
A friend told me the following as having oc
curred under her own eye; and well does it il
lustrate that false dignity which is too often as-
sumed by those who wear the vesture of the
pulpit, in their intercourse with the people of
their charge:
Door-hell rings. The Rev. Mr.- is in
troduced to the family-room, where three child
ren are busily engaged at play, snuggled in the
corner of the room, the mother diligently en
gaged in sewing. She rises to meet, "the
minister," and salutes him; while he, with lof
ty, cold, repulsive dignity, says: Good morn
ing, Mrs.-, are yon well to-day ?" And
as dignifiedly takes his seat. After a few mo
ments pause, he says, in the same unbending,
unfamiliar manner; "I trust, madam, that you
have been well since I saw you last?" "Thank
you, sir, quite well." A brief pause. "I hope
your family have been, and are, in health ?"
"Well, I thank you, aside from the ordinary
sickness of children." Another pause. "I
trust that you have found consolation and re
joicing since my last visit ?" etc. And thus
passed away some ten or fifteen minutes; the
children all the while having suspended their
play with a kind of indescribable fear, which
children only can look; first glancing wonder
ing at each other, and inquiringly at the moth
er. Rising to depart, with the same unrelax
ing dignity, the clergyman said; "I leave my
blessing with you and your family, him-,
and will bid you good morning." Hardly had
the door closed when a little boy of four years,
ran towards his mother, and clinging tightly to
her dress, raised his eyes inquiringly, and with
all the simple earnestness of a child, said:
"Mamma, mamma, was dat Dod?" I thought
the question conveyed a most important lesson,
and one so plain that none could misunder
stand or misinterpret it, coming as it did from
the lips of innocent childhood.
In the beauta, -e T
used to visit a venerable Virginia gentleman
of the olden time. His house was the abode of
genial hospitality and refined opulence; and
surrounded by his children and grandchildren,
I never saw a more perfect picture of domestic
happiness.
It was Mr. P's. custom to call his little
grandson to his side morning and evening, and
on his bonded knees, and with his little hands
clasped and raised to heaven, teach him to ut
ter the simple prayers appropriate to lisping in
fancy. One morning the good old gentleman
scntured to instruct him in the Lord's prayer;
he had advanced most successfully as far as
the petition, "Give us this day our daily bread,'
when little Willie looked up, his eye sparkling
with animation and delight, exclaimed: "01
ganpa, put some butter on it I" Even the gra
vity of my venerable friend yielded to this as
sault.
I know of a family very strict in religions
observances—evening prayer, grace before
meat, etc. On a recent absence of the par
ents, grandma—who makes no pretence to
piety—presided at the tea table. Observing
the silence. Mary C—, a very tiny girl,
whispered, "Grandma, I can say grace." Per
mission being given, little Mary put her hands
together, closed her eyes, and with an air of
great sanctity and gravity, repeated the fol
lowing:—
"Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
If I should die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take."
Knickerbocker.
Twenty Three Ireazein the Water—Found
at Last.
Some twenty-three years ago—in the year
1830—a man named Mr. Malley was missing
from the neighborhood of Mr. Hunter's quar
ries, Marble Hall, about five miles below this
borough. Ho was, at the time of the accident,
about sixty years of age. It was supposed that
during the night ho had missed his way, and
fallen in one of the quarries that had not been
worked for some time previous, which contain
ed water to the depth of about seventy feet.—
Repeated attempts were made to recover the
body, and whole days together were spent in
grappling for him but all without success, until
the effort was finally abandoned. It was thought
that he might have floated under the ledge that
jutted out, and so matters remained until quite
recently. This quarry being about to be used
again, some weeks since an effort was made to
pump the water out, in which they finally suc
ceeded last week; and towards the close of the
week the skeleton of this man was discovered.
The water is very cold all the year round, and
it was thought petrification had taken place,
but such was not the ease. However, about
nine years after the accident, a large quantity
of stone fbll in, and that may have struck and
mangled him. He was found to be a complete
skeleton—nothing but the bones lett. The
shoes were as perfect as they were twentythree
years ago; the strings by which they were tied
were as readily undone as though it had just
happened. In the shoes was a portion of flesh;
the buttons of his vest were laid as regularly
where they had rotted off as though they had
been placed there. A very offensive effluvia
arose, as if decomposition had jest commenced.
The remains wore handei over to his friends
for interment. —Yorrietown
HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 24, 1853.
An Exquisite Story.
BY LAWSRTINg.
In the tribe of Noggdeh there was a home
whose fame was spread far and near, and a Be
douin of another tribe, by name Daher, desir
ed extremely to possess it. Having offered in
rain his camels for it and his whole wealth, he
hit at length upon the following device, by
which he hoped to gain the object of his desire.
He resolved to stain his face with the juice of
an herb, to clothe himself in rags, to tie his legs
and neck together, so as to appear like a lame
beggar. Thus equipped he went to wait for
Naber, the owner of the horse, whom he knew
was to pass that way. When he saw Naber
approaching on his beautiful steed, he cried
out in a weak voice, "I am a poor stranger;
for three days I have been unable to move from
this spot to seek for food. lam dying; help
me, and heaven will reward you." The Bedouin
kindly offered to take him up on his home and
carry bins home, but the rogue replied "I can
not rise ; I have no strength left." Naber, touch
ed with pity, dismounted, led his horse to the
spot, and, with great difficulty, set the seeming
beggar on its back. But no sooner did Daher
feel himself in the saddle than he galloped off,
calling out as ho did so : "It is I, Daher. I
have got the horse, and am off with it." Naber
called after him to stop and listen. Certain of
not being pursued, he turned, and halted, at a
short distance from Naber, who was armed
with a spear. "You have taken my horse.—
Since heaven has willed it, I wish you joy of it;
but I do conjure you never to tell any one how
you obtained it." "And why not?" said Da
her. "Because," said the noble Arab, "anoth
er man might he really ill and men would fear
to help him. You would be the cause of many
refusing to perform an act of charity for fear of
being duped as I have been." Struck with
shame at these words, Daher was silent for a
moment, then, springing from the horse, return
ed it to its owner, embracing him. Naber
made him accompany him to his tent, where
they spent a few days together, and became
fast friends for life.
Marehield.
A correspondent of the Boston Daily Adver.
tiser gives an interesting account of a recent
visit to the farm of Mr. Webster, from which
we copy the following extract
"Every thing at the house of Marshfield is
just as Mr. Webster 14 it. There is no one
living in the house except the one or two set ,
vants who take care of it, but it does not have
the desolate air of a vacant establishment.—
One almost expects to see some of the family
come forward to. give the cordial welcome
whinh alwoma rrritninriviltitnrs the We went
through the house. We paused a te re. w moments
in silence in the room in which the great
statesman breathed his last. We seated our•
selves in the beautiful library, the shelves of
which are still loaded with hooks, and the walls
adorned with the well-known pictures.
"The farm is carried on under the same su
perintendence and in the same manner as for
merly, the general directions and supplies be
ing furnished by Mr. Paige, in behalf of the
trustees. It is thought important to ascertain
whether it will sustain itself, and how much in
come, if any, can be realized from it. It thus
presents the same general appearance as for
merly.
"We walked across part of the estate to the
grave. It lies, as you know, just at the edge
of the old burying ground, where repose the
remains of some of the old pilgrims, on a ri
sing ground which overlooks the ocean. The
mound of earth which covers the tomb bears a
slab of marble with the simple inscription
"DANIEL WEBSTER." In front arc small MOB
UMCUIS to Mr. Webster's first wife, and the
children,
"Two other monuments, one with the names
of two of Mr. Webster's children who died
in infancy, and two of Mr. Fletcher Web-
Min's children, and the other with the epitaph
which he directed for himself, are ready, and
it is expected that they would he set up to
day or to-morrow. All these things were eith
er arranged by Webster himself, or, since his
decease, in accordance with his own specific
directions. Tho epitaph has been engraved
upon the marble, line for line, precisely in ac
cordance with his request. The difficulty at
tending an exact compliance with the direc
tions is the reason why the completion of the
monument has been delayed hitherto."
An Extraordinary Man.
David Wilson, an old Revolutionary soldier,
and a native of New Jersey, died, after a very
short illness, in Dearborn county, Indiana, in
August, 1833, aged one hundred and seven
years two months and ten days. He had, at
different periods of his life, five wives, and, at
the time of his death was the father of forty
seven children! Whilst residing in Pennsyl
vania, near the old Redstone Fort, his wife gave
birth to five children in eleven months! This
extraordinary man, when in his one hundred
and fourth year, mowed one week for Esq. Pen
delton, of Hamilton county, Ohio, about two
miles from Cincinnati, during which he mowed
one acre per day of heavy timothy gross. He
was about five feet six inches in height. His
frame was not supported by ribs, as the frames
of ordinary mon are, but an apparently solid
sheet of bone supplied their place. He could
hold up his hands in a vertiele position and re
ceive a blow from the fist of a powerful man on
the laterial portion of his body with inconveni
ence. He served throughout the entire revolu
tion, under Washington ; was engaged in most
of the Indian warn since, and was the compan
ion of Marion and Rogers, and of many other
distinguished and early pioneers of our western
and southern wilds. Our readers may rest as
sured that this statement is correct, as we re
ceived it tt•ont Mr. Alexander Wilson, of North
Madison, who is the forty-fifth child of the snb
ject of this paragraph.—Madison Banner, Ju
ly 29th.
or Think before von speak.
Searching for a Loet Child.
The Mt. Pleasant (lowa) papers give long
accounts of a search for a lost child which re
cently took place in that county. It is stated
that the child of Mr. and Mrs. Beach, who live
two miles south of Hillsboro', and seven miles
south of Salem, in Lee county, had been lost
the evening before, and was then missing. The
child must be looked after, was the ready re
sponse of every one, and forthwith 40 or 50 per
sons were ready for the search, and on the way
to Mr. Beach's. There they learned that 100
persons had been out all day in an ineffectual
search. Arrangements were made for an early
commencement of the hunt next morning; and
long before day, the tolling of the Seminary bell
warned the people of their duty to their neigh
bors in sore distress. There were many sleep
less eyes that night, and early dawn found hun
dreds of people of all classes, on thealcrt. The
girl about 5 years old, and with a twin brother
and another child, had gone to a neighbor's
house,shewas observed to climb a garden fence,
and linkered behind, while her companions
went home and reported that their sister would
be along soon. That was the last seen of her.
On Sunday, as we have stated, the general
search was commenced. A line was formed
with men but 10 feet apart, and woodland and
prairie searched by more than 600 men, but
not r. trace of the lost child could be found.—
But they did not despair. They resolved to
continue the search on Monday morning with
increased numbers. Monday came, and the
country for miles around was hunted over, and
still without success. Again they resolved to
devote themselves to the work next day. Tues
day found these good neighbors again at their
task. A hollow square was formed from five
to six miles in diameter, making Mr. Beach's
house the centre of the square, and up to 12
o'clock, no tidings of the lost one. But then,
when two miles from Mr. Beach's, and exactly
opposite from where it had been last seen, in
an almost impenetrable thicket, Mr. F. A. Mc-
Elroy, of Salem, was the first to catch a glimpse
of the child's dress as it made into the brush a
few steps from him. A moment more, not
withstanding her attempted flight and resistance,
be held the child in his arms. She was found
near a pool of water, where she had passed the
night. Being asked how she slept at night,
she replied, "I just slept on the ground, with.
out anything to cover with." She was very
much reduced, and had a vacant look in her
eyes. For four days she had been without
anything to eat. Hundreds of people assembled,
BB the news spread, at the house, and the feel.
ing and excitement was intense to see the lost
one who was thus providentially restored to
her parents. Rev. Joseph cooper returned
In 'n ewt.'" ••••• • 6 w
Lt ^en.
* an n Ytnentney separated.
The Dead Wife,
In comparison with the lose of a wife, all
other bereavements are trifles. The wife! she
who tills so largo a space in the domestic hea
ven; she who is so busied, so unwenry—bitter,
bitter is the tears that fall upon her clay.—
You stand beside her grave and think of the
past; it seems an ambercolored pathway,
where there the sun shone opon beautiful flow
ers, and the stars hung glittering overhead.—
Fain would the soul linger here. No thorns
are remembered above tha sweet clay, save
those your own hand may have unwillingly
planted. Her noble, tendeoheart lies open to
your inmost sight. You fink of her as all
gentleness, all beauty, and urity. But she is
dead I The dear head than) often laid upon
your bosom, now rests upon pillow of clay.—
The hands that ministeredso untiringly are
folded, white and cold, breath the gloomy
portals. The heart whose rery beat measur
ed an eternity of love, lies oder your feet.—
And there is no white arm rer your shoulder
now; no speaking face to leo up in the eyes of
love; no trembling lips to nrmur—"Oh it is
so sad!" There is so strata a hush in every
room I No smile to greet oo at night-fall—
and tha clock ticks and stres and ticks l—it•
was swee t music when shorould hear RI
Now it seems to knell only se hours through
which you watched the shows gathered up
on her sweet fade. But now a talp it telleth
of joys past, sorrows shod, and beautiful
words and deeds registeredbove. You feel
that the grave cannot keeher. Yon know
that sloe is in a happier wd, but feel that
she is often by your side, angel-presence.—
Cherish these emotions o-7 will make you
happier. Let her holy preoce be as a charm
to keep you from evil. Inl new and pleas
ant connections, give her Dace in your heart.
Never forget what she hasen to you—that
she has loved you. Be terr of her memory.
Glorious Inioartainof the Law.
A laughable illustratiof the heading of
this article occurred in Bra lately, as will be
seen by the following from Peoria News
Mr. B. was out huntin;ith his rifle, and
crossing the field of Mr. ( Frenchman, C's
large dog attacted him savly, while C. stood
looking on, without attering to call off his
dog; B. getting out of pace shot the dog,
and be fell apparently de. C., in high dad.
goon, forthwith got out a.rant, and had B.
arrested for killing his &swore to the kil
ling, and was corroborate two of his neigh
bors, who were present at shooting.
The Magistrate fined B dollars, and costs,
which amounted to aboua more; B. paid
the fine and costs—and a the parties got
home from the trial, 114 bad come home
also, and was not killed. then got a war
rant against the Frencluand his two asso.
ciates for perjury, in awe; B. had killed the
dog. They were frighteand made peace
with 8., paid him back Monty dollars, and
ten more for his trouble, no trial was had;
and when the parties red home from the
last suit, lo I the dog watd. Imagine the
"feelings" of the Frond and his party.—
The Frenchman says, "toot my dog—he
die—l swear—and dam esurrects himself.
By gar I find I swear be settle for him—
.
then, my 4,g die by gar 'TO
From the Cincinnati Gazette.
What the Frenoh Wear, and how they
wear it.
The French regard the American people in
much the same light as they do they do the
"outside barbarians" of the far off islands of
the sea; for they assert that they find an equally
good market with each for the sale of rich and
gaudy articles of manufacture. Thus a large
proportion of the Bilk looms of Lyons are con
stantly employed in the manufacture of gaudy
tissues for the North American market; while
the finest and most costly styles of the cloths
and cassimerea of Elbauf and Sedan find no
where so ready a customer as the United
States. The Paris merchant sometimes com
plains when asked for a fine piece of goods, in
which his stock is deficient, that all those styles
are carried off at higher prices than he can af
ford to give, by the American importing agents.
When an American, on entering a tailoring es
tablishment in Parris, announces, in reply to
the polite interrogatory which is sometimes put
to him, the name of his country, he is very apt
to be saluted with a broader smile and a great
er convexity of the spine than the citizens of
other countries, followed by the remark, "then
you want to see the best goods we've got."—
The moral conveyed by these facts should not
be forgotten. The fact is, we are a nation of
of envious, money-making spendthifts; and in
the absence to titles, and those class distinc
tions universally recognised in Europe, en
deavour, by gaudy display, to place ourselves
in advance of each other in the world's appre
ciation. Our country offers the curious anoma
ly of possessing more aristocrats, and at the
same time more republicans, than any nation
in existence. It is the aristocracy of broad
cloth, brown free-stone fronts and fast horses.
From the fact that America derives its fash-
ions from Paris, one naturally arrives here
with the idea that he will see at once in the
streets of the best dressed people in the world.
He is quite astonished to find how far he has
been deceived. He sees much; very much
less of fine goods in the street, particularly on
the men, and he sees a much greater variety of
style, both in London and Paris, than in the
large American cities. The latest style is con
fined to a very few persons comparatively—few
in comparison to the population,and few in com•
parison to the number of persons who conform
to the changes of fashion in the large cities of
America. Outside of that limited number one
could not decide what was the reigning style,
they are so diversified. One cause of this di
versity is, that no people pay so much atten
tion to contrasts of person as the French;
while another very powerful one is, that money
is less equally distributed than with us, and
fewer pergolas can afford to conform to the fre
quytt gaimigna eL mouton. 11.3 LIU aacalucg.o
changes must take place in France; it is a na•
tional characteristic, which is ground so deep
into a Frenchman's existence, that its inn.
once runs through every action of his life, to
be arrested only at his religion, and even to
that he holds not too tenaciously. So that, in
some measure to compensate for the frequent
change which is required, the French have ac
quired the habit of wearing a coarser quality
of cloth than that which their manufacturers
send to our country. The Emperor of France
wears every day coarser cloth than nine-tenths
of the "down-town" clerks of the American
cities.
In Paris, however, every one but the work
man engaged at his work, looks neat. lam
inclined to believe that it. is this general neat
appearance which has induced other nations
to borrow their fashions from Paris. Certain.
ly, for elegance and appropriateness, the
French styles do not equal the English or
American modifications. It is easy to recog
nise a New York or London Mall in the streets
of Paris by his back. The Parisians ask noth
ing more than to see a man's back to know
whether he is English or American, provided
he be a fresh arrival, and carries with him the
clothes which he brought from home.
Another reason why we endeavour to follow
the French style is, that the French people car
ry their clothes with such infinite grace, giving
to the most unnatural and out-of-taste styles
an easy elegance that our more awkward peo
ple cannot approach in any style which they
may choose to adopt. It is rare to see a
French fop,that is,what we understand by a fop.
There are plenty of mon who pay as much at
tention to their clothes as with us, but their
manner, when carrying them, don't advertise
their thoughts. It is amusing to look at our
very young men when they get on their first
Paris outfit; a thing which soon takes place,
unfortunately for them, for the longer a man
stays here, the more simply he dresses. I do
think the most ludicrous sight a man can see
in Paris, is a freshly arrived boy-aristocrat try
ing to be graceful in one of Dusautoy's beat
out-fits—for our genuine "blood" won't go to a
shop that is not patronised by the Emperor.—
If American fathers would give their sons,
whom they send here, one or two good suits,
and then limit the amount of supplies at "my
bankers," until through the medium of their
eyes they had learned a little good sense, they
would confer a favour on the boy and their
purse at the same time. Although I bare
been here a year, and have grown perfectly ac
customed to the dress, a well-mode American
suit, (American made clothes are always mo
dified from the French,) whenever I encounter
it, still strikes me as the most beautiful, the
most reasonable, and the most tasteful; and
their is no reason why the American people,
who lead in so many things, and are destined
to lead in so many more, should not invent
dress of their own, which, by their great travel
ling propensities, would soon become univer
sal. It is time that the American people ceas
ed to run orazy after European fashions. It is
well to remember, too, that few French coats
are made well; it is all a rage for a brief sea
season for a style and not for fit. At the pres
ent moment, if the skirts of a coat scarcely co,
or the hips, and the 'leen.; hese, clean foot of
'-[WfiIiATEE.
opening for the hand, it is 'efficient, no mat
ter what the cut may be otherwise. It is a
great absurdity for a sensible people to endeav
our to follow such fashions as those, with the
sincerity and gravity which our people do.
• The women of Paris dress with much more
taste, generally, than the men. They study
contrast more, and understand that part of the
art of dressing better perhaps than any other
people. They seem to be slaves only to the
style of bonnet—an article in which the French
certainly excel. Their bonnets are always
tasty and piquant, The French women do not
put so much money on their backs as either
English or American women, but they arrange
it to better advantage. They are rather too
fond of velvet trimmings and jewelry; but oth
er wife they dress admirably, and much more
reasonably than the men. Two styles. howev
er, no worn by the bon ton in Paris, I think
will find little favour in America. They are
the manteau, called Talntas, and a kind of silk
for dresses with changeable, fanciful-shaped
stripes running around the skirt in place of
flounces, generally of a light brick-dust colour
on black silk. The bonnets are round, very
email, and reach forward only to the middle of
the head—somewhere in the region of venera
tion. Like the men, the women carry them
selves so gracefully that they seem not con
scious of it when extravagantly dressed.
A habit prevails in France in regard to the
dress, of young unmarried ladies in the wealthi
er classes, so entirely different from our own
system that his worthy of mention. All young
ladies, till the day of theii marriage, must dress
plainly and cheaply; they must not, even in
company, wear jewelry, flounces or ribbons to
any extent. The mother may carry into com
pany ten times the value that her daughter can.
And it is astonishing how the old women of
France do dress. One might very well take
their modestly-dressed daughters at their side
for a family instructress or a favorite servant.
Not only must the daughters dress plainly and
modestly, but they must never move out of sight
of their mothers or chaperones, nor speak to a
gentleman without permission, until they are
married; then custom allows them to make up
for lost time, and so far as I have been able to
observe, they do make it up with a vengeance.
The study of the fashions is very apt to become
at once a mania with them, and unless they
are gratified to the extent of their desires, the
husband very often becomes a sufferer in more
ways than ono. A Frenchman, however, can
not resist the facinations of a French woman,
and he generally yields to all her wishes, if he
even sacrifices his happiness in other particu
lars. A more independent, exacting, diploma
tic, showy race of married women cannot be
found. The young women are units in society.
ail Fix jut.- a; hash.. of Om
country have been much moire favoured by na•
ture than the men. The persona of the men
in Paris are, for the most part, of a middle
stature, slightly built, rather smalboned than
thin, with small regular features, fine eyes and
picturesque heads, though not of the bold mas•
culine description which belongs to the north.
ern nations. They are generally sallow, with
dark hair and beard—very seldom fair, while
red hair is scarcely ever seen. The faces of
the women resemble much the men; they have
regular features, dark hair and magnificent
eyes. They carry their heads high, look inde•
pendent, interesting, (not beautiful,) are exces
sively polite, and make the most agreeable so.
ciety one can find. They are generally bre.
netts, and have but little color furnished by na
ture, nor is art so often resorted to supply
this deficiency as in some countries. They are
of middle stature, exceedingly well formed, and
graceful in all their actions. Their forms are
very much better than the men, and better
than the English or American women, but they
lack the modest beauty of face which charac•
terizes the American and English ladies. The
French people admit the fact themselves, that
America possesses more beautiful women than
any other country, while they complain of their
shapes, and cold, reserved manners. Where
an American girl wins the affections of a man
by her silent, modest beauty, a French woman
does it with her eyes and her tongue. A blush
in Paris is as rare as a snow-storm, and certain.
ly there is no place where they ought to occur
so often.
The Emperor and Empress, whenever they
appear in public, unless it be on state occasions,
are always dreesed plain—a /a bourgeois, and
the people like it. An extravagantly dressed
man at the Emperor's ball is sure to be ridicu
led. One is surprised, just now, to meet so
many plain-looking persons in coronetted car
riages in the streets of Paris. It is to be hoped
that the example of the Emperor, whom all
acknowledge to bo the perfection of a gentle
man in his manner and his dress, will exert a
good influence in curing the unlimited extra
vagances of Parisian artists in cloth. The
custom of modifying after the London style,
has been growing considerably lately; and it
is not at all uncommon to see a fashionable
Frenehman carrying a long-waisted paletot.
Mum.
Hon. Edward Everett
Few, if any, who are famiiar with the career
of this distinguished son of Massachusetts, will
dissent from the justice of the following tribute
to his talents and worth, which is taken from
the N. Y. Mirror. Mr. Everett is not only a
man of undoubted genius, and highly cultiva
ted mind, but an eminent statesman and sin
core patriot:
"Edward Everett's career has been marked,
and as men say, fortunate. But he owes noth•
ing to accident. He is not a chance man.—
His flower, from the bud, has been selfnurtur
ed, self-developed. He has wrought his own
fortunes. As a scholar he is ripe. In all the
elegancies and refinements of literature he has
no superior. With the story of the past ages—
of men nations and governments—he is a fem.
iliac. He is a philosopher, gathering wisdom
from their errors; a poet, weaving his own glo
rious web from their romance; a statesman,
heeding their lessons ; an orator, glowing with
fires kindled from their heroic, their sublime.
and their beautiful epochs."
NO. 34.
The Danubian Principalities.
The Principalities, while retaining their in
dependence and sovereignty, placed themselves
under the sneerainty of the Porte—Wallachis
in 1460'and Moldavia in 1513; and they enga
ged to pay the Porto a tribute, on condition
that the Porte should defend them by her arm.
against any foreign aggression. Subsequently,
in the course of the last century, Russia began
to introduce into her treaties with the Porte
some clauses concerning Wallachia and Mod
davit': at first, in order to stipulate in the trea
ty of Bainardji for a right of intercession in
their favor; and afterwards in order to take, in
the treaty of Adrianople, the title of guarantee
of those Principalities. Russia assumed for
the first time the title of protector, in the pre
amble of the organic regulations which she
caused to be drawn up for Moldavia and Wad
lachia during their occupation by her troops
from 1828 to 1834. It results clearly from
these treaties that Russia's right to interfere in
the disputes of the Principalities with the Porte
is limited solely to the case of the Principali
ties making the demand of inference, a demand
which they have never made • and, besides,
treaties to which the principalities have not
been contracting parties cannot have any ob
ligatory force fa. them. As to the neutrality
and inviolability of their territory, they have
been repeatedly recognised by all the great
powers, not excepting Russia; and even, accor
ding to the Convention of the Balta-Liman. the
Russian 'armies can only occupy the Principal
ities simultaneously with the Turkish troops,
for the purpose of restoring order, if it should
happen to be disturbed. Nevertheless, these
Principalities have often been considered as an
integral portion of the Ottoman'Empire,as Rus
sia now regards them. In fact, the last diplo
matic documents which have emanated from
SL Petersburg state, that as Russia has not
been able to bring the Porte to reason by pa.
cific ways, she will give orders to her troops to
cross the Prnth, and will occupy the Principal
ities, in order to have material guarantees un
til she can obtain from Turkey the moral guar
ranters set forth in Prince Menschikoff's note.
The inhabitants of the Principalities are de
scended from the Roman legions led into Da
cia and Tralan. They call themselves Ron
mans, and their language, which much resem
bles Italian, is derived,likethatlanguage, from
the Latin. Their origin, their recollections,
their tendencies, everything attaches them to
the nations of civilized Europe. To the Rus
sians, on the contrary, they have no similitude;
their nationality, race, language, historical tra
ditions, and manners, all separate them from
the Russians. They have no connexions, not
even commercial relations, with the Russians.
Even their church is not the same. The Ron
mans possess a national and 'independent
church; they possess liturgies and sacred books
in the Beeman tongue; and they regard the
Russians as schismatics, because they recog
nize the Czar as their spiritual chief.
The population of these Principalities,
amounting to 4,000,000 or 4,500,0000 inhabi
tants; the great extent of their territory, which
could easily support three times their popula
tion; the richness and variety of the produce
of their soil; their situation, between the Car
pathians and the Danube,
which renders them
powerful bulwarks both forAustrie and Turkey;
all these concur to give them real and consid
erable importance both in commercial ani-pe•
litical respects,
These countries, rich in natural produce,and
deficient both in capital and manufaeturee,
would become a productive outlet for British
capital and industry, and would soon attain a
high degree of prosperity; if they could enjoy in
full security the rights which they derive from
their treaties with the Porte. And the Princi
palities ardently desire to see themselves placed,
as well as Turkey, under the collective prase
tion of the great Powers.— London Paper.
Our Foreign Debt
Near the close of the last session of Congress
the Senate adopted a resolution requiring the
Secretary of the Treasury to ascertain and re.
port to tho Senate at the opening of the nest
Congress " the aggregate amount of State,
county, railroad, canal, and other corporation
bonds, stocks, or other evidence of debt held in
Europe or other foreign countries on the 30th
of June, 1853, specifying, so far as the lams
can be ascertained, the amount of each of the
above descriptions of bonds and stocks."
Pursuant 'to this resolution, the Secretary of
the Treasury has issued a circular to all the in•
corporated companies in the Union, from which
we make tho following extract:
In order to enable.me to comply, no far as
practicable, with the above resolution, I will be
obliged to you if you will communicate to this
Department
-Ist. The authorized amount of capital stock
of your company, the amount actually paid in,
and the amount, so well as can be ascertained,
held by foreigners, residing beyond the bounds
of the `United States, on the 30th June, 1853.
2d. The whole amount of bonds, if any, is
sued by your company, and the particular
amount, so well as can be ascertained, held by
foreigners, residing beyond the bounds of the
United States, on the 30th June, 1853.
The answers to these questions, if given with
even tolerable accuracy, will reveal a fund of
information of incalculable importance. Ai
present all the information which we have about
our indebtedness to foreign capitalists is alto
gether conjectural, and two men of equal expe
rience and judgment might differ ten millions
from each other in estimating its amount.—
The value of this inquiry might have been
greatly enhanced if it had embraced the amount
of indebtedness one, two, or three years back,
so as to have given a standard of comparison
by whirls to estimate the increase of foreign
capital within the year or series of years. If
Mr. Secretary Guthrie could hit upon some plan
by which this species of information could be
furnished to the country annually, it would be
of infinite service, and does not at present seem
to us at all impracticable. The first experiment
now making, we have no doubt, will be found
of so much interest as to lead to its annual re
petition, unless some selfoperatiug system is
devised.—Xas York Post.
11M.. One of the most celebratedmembers of
the Paris bar was consulted the other day by a
young practitioner, upon an obscure point of
law. "I cannot give you a positive answer,
young man," replied the advocate 'I have
pleaded once one way, mid and once the other,
and I gained my suit each time."
) An Irishman in distress asked a gentle•
man for relief. He was repulsed with 'go to
h-11: Pat looked at him in such a way es to
fix his attention, and then replied : "God bless
yer honor for your civility, for yer the first gin•
tleman that's Invited me to his father's house
since I kim til Ameriky I"
Height of Ambition—To marry a rich a-ii
ow 1 ot'e got a cough.