Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, March 01, 1854, Image 1
VOL. 19. TERMS The etllutcrimonon Jot:Mint." is published at the following rates :. If paid in advance ~,• 111,60 If paid within six months after the time of subscribing 1,75 If paid nt the end of the year 2,00 And two dollars and tifti cents if not paid till rafter the expiration of the year. No subscription Will be token for a less period than six months, and nopnper will be discontinued, except at the 'option of the Editor, until all arrearages are paid. Naliscribers living in distant connties,or in other Nimes, will be required to pay invariably in Oilvnnee. ey- The nbove terms will be rigidly ndbered to in all eases. RATES OF ADVERTISING. `One squareof 16 lines or less For 1 insertion $0,50, For 1 month, $1,23 ~ 2 if 0,75, " 3 " 2,73 •,‘ 3 ll 1,00, .• 6 " 5,00 tIiOnESSIMEAL CARDS, not exceeding 101ines, 'and not changed during the year $4,00 Canis and JOURNAL in advance 5 ,00 Smitnims CARDS of the some length, not 'changed °AIM and Jornxne., in advance 4,00 lir Short transient advertisements will be nil- Ynitted into our editorial columns at treble the usual rates. On longer advertisement% whether yearly or 'transient, a reasonable deduction will be made fur prompt payment. P0EVY,4 1 214. THE JOYLESS SPIRIT. BY MRS. MARY E. 17.51.1.. Yes, tide world is cold and dreary, And a chill is on my heart; And my trembling soul is weary, From the oft repented dart. I've wept o'er faded friendships, Till my eyes have tearless grown; No longer bitter are the words, Uncared for and alone. • I've nursed the choicest buds of hope, And watched the opening flower; Inhaled the fragrance of its breath— Ohl blissful was the hour. But, as I raised the dewy cop, Its nectar drops to sip, Dark disappointment rudely came And dashed it from my lip. The fadeless wreaths , that fancy twined, To bind upon my brow, Like withered, scattered garlands lie, Nor can be gathered now ; The gilded hues the future wore, So datang to my sight, Eluded each my eager grasp, And sank in rayless night! My heart has grieved at other's grief, 31ine eyes Lath wept to see The sufferer vainly seek relief, But no one weeps for me; I've o ft rejoiced; 3t`other's joy, Yet why should I repine, That no one cares to heave a sigh, Because no joy is mine? For friendship is a smiling mask, Worn only to deceive, And ns I thrust it from my heart, Say wherefore should I grieve? Its honied words and winsome arts, The rainbow hues it wore, And all are past, krever post, To charm me neler more! For the world is cold and dreary, And a chill is on my heart, While my trembling soul is weary, And longing to depart. No tics have I to bind me here, Or chain me down to earth, For those that fasten round my soul, Are all of heavenly birth. EIERA,2I,I2BEOII). -.- - Female Piety. The gem of all others which enriches the coronet of a lady's character, is unaffected pie ty. Nature may lavish much on her person— , the enchantment of the countenance—the grace sad strength of her intellect, yet her love liness is uncrowned till piety throws around the sweetness and power of her charms. She then becomes unearthly in her desires and as sociations: The spell which bound her affec tions to the things below is broken, and she mounts on the silent wings of her limey and hope, to the habitation of her God, where it is her delight to hold communion with the spirits that have been ransomed from thraldom of earth, and wreathed with a garland of glory.— Her beauty may throw a magical charm over many princes and conquerors may bow with admiration at the shrine of her love, the sons •of science and poetry may embalm her memo ry in history and song, but her piety must be her ornament—her pearl. Her name must be written in the "Book of life," and when the mountains fade away, and every memento of earthly greatness is lost in the general wreck of nature, it may remain and swell the list of the mighty throng who have been clothed with the mantle of righteousness, and their voice at tuned to the melody of heaven. With such a treasure, every lawful gratification on earth may be purchased; friendships will be doubly sweet, pain and sorrow will loose their sting, and her character will possess a price far above riches; life will be but a pleasant visit to the earth, and death the entrance to a joyful per petual home. And when the notes of the last tramp shall be heard, and the sleeping millions wake to judgement, its possessors shall be pre seated faultless before the throne of God, with exceeding glory and a crown, that shall never fade away. Piety communicates a divine lus tre to the female mind; wit and beauty„like the flowers of the field, may flourish and charm for a season; but like the flowers, those gifts are frail and fading; age will nip the blood of beauty; sickness and misfortune will stop the current of wit and humor. In the zloomy sea sons, piety will support the drooping soul like the refreshing dew upon the parched earth.— Such is piety, like a tender flower, planted in the fertile soil of a woman's heart, it grows, ex panding its foliage and imparting its fragrance to all around, till transplanted and sot to bloom in perpetual vigor or unfading beauty in the paradise of God. Follow this star—it will light you through every lybrinth in the wilderness of life, gild the gloom that gathers nroenil the dying hoar, and bring you safely over this thinliestuonn Jordan of death, into the haven of promise l rest.—/).eshilterrn. i:,_ . 't .0 11 . 1 - .. ,tingbon ~,011Tittlt. " I SEE NO STAR ABOVE THE HORIZON, PROMISING LIGHT TO OUIDE ITS, MIT THE INTELLIGENT, PATRIOTIC, UNITED WHIG PARTY OF THE UNITED STATEN."- [WEBSTER The American Climate. It has been suggested by an English Review, says the Tribune, and with the air of scientific authority, that there is something in the cli mate of this country unfavorable to high devel opement and substantial vigor of the human organization. We are told that the tendency of the atmospheric influence to which the Americans are subjected, is to produce exces sive nervous activity, without a due proportion of muscular and adipose substance, and that the race must rapidly degenerate, in such cir cumstances, but fur the constant infusion of fresh blood from the healthier and more vigor ous nations of Europe. This theme is develop ed at length in an essay on the climate of the United States, recently read by M. Desor, be fore a general meeting of the different learned Societies of Switzerland. This able naturalist brings an array of facts to support his theo ry. He says that when German and Swiss emi grants arrive in New York, they generally find that our climate does not differ much from their own, but after a time, they begin to no tice little differences, which compel them, in spite of themselves, to adopt our system of liv ing—a system, which on their first arrival here, they invariably condemn. They know in deed, that our northern States lie is nearly the same latitude as Central Europe, and the well informed among them understand that the iso: thermal circles coincide still more exactly.— Add to this that they learn by experience that the winters in the neighborhood of New York and Boston are about as cold as at Frankford, Basle or Zurich, and the summers at least as warm, and yet after all there is a difference which they cannot understand. The effects of this difference in climate are seen as well in some of the most ordinary op erations of everyday life as in its influence on certain trades. Our German emigrants find to their astonishment on a washing day, that their things dry full twice as quickly, even in the depth of winter, here as in Europe, Ac customed too, to bake bread for family use on ly once in two or three weeks, they are neces sarily surprised when they discover that hero on the second or third day it becomes hard, dry and unpalatable. German housekeepers find, however, that this dryness of our atmos• phere has its advantages, inasmuch as vegeta bles and fruits, of all kinds, are more easily preserved throughout the winter than in their own Father-land. The Hamburger, although it is colder here at Christmas than in his native city, never sees those frosted windows to which he has been accustomed from childhood, there rarely being sufficient moisture in our atmos phere to produce them. "Many additional in• stances of the effect of the American climate, on the ordinary routine of life," observes M. Decor, "might be given, and I could also point out others when it affects the person." . But there are other filets equally . remarks.' ble. No sooner are the walls of a building plastered, than the tennaut may move in with out any fear of rheumatism or those sicknesses which would he the inevitable consequence of so doing in Europe. So too, the plasterer bins self can lay on the second coat nt once; while on the other hand, the upholsterer and piano forte manufacturer must be very careful in se lecting their wood, for what would be amply seasoned in Europe, would soon crack and split here. So many instances, however, in which the dryness of our atmosphere exerts in fluence on different trades and manufactures, will naturally suggest themselves to our read em, that we deem it needless to point out more. The number of rainy days in the States, if we except, perhaps, England and Norway, is not less than in Europe generally. But here the air never retains the moisture; no sooner does it cease raining than the hydrometer com mences at once to sink, and soon shows that the asmosphere is as dry as ever. This dry ness of the American climate, is very readily explained by our savan. In America, as in Europe, westerly winds prevail. They pro ceed, however, to the coasts of Europe, loaded with the moisture which they have collected during their passage across the ocean. Con sequently, rain generally accompanies them.— Here, however,the westerly winds reach us only after passing over a whole continent, and when they have lost a large portion of their moisture. Therefore, they seldom bring rain with then. In considering the action of our climate on animals and plants, it would seem as Buffet' has observed, that while the animals generally that have been introduced here, have on the whole, rather deteriorated from the present stock, plants; on the other hand, have decided ly improved. From this it is argued that America is peculiarly the continent for the vegetable, while Europe is that for the animal kingdom. The history, however, of the United States, is of too recent a date to afford any very just grounds for examining the modifica tions that the animal kingdom may have un dergone, and our author prefers rather looking at, man himself. In the most Eastern of the New England States, where the ince have not been so much mixed as in the more central ones, we fled that the original form and the features of the first settlers are entirely lost; that, indeed, within the last two hundred years an American type has been produced. That this is not the effect of any mixture of race, is evident from the fact that where there has been tho least mixture of race, this American type. is most marked. No must consequently attribute it to the influence exerted on the human frame by our climate. "Coarse hair, a want of full ness of body, a long peek, and colorless corn plexion;" says M. Desor, "are veil, frequent characteristics of the New Englander, and that some of these depend on climate, is seen by the fact that n trip to Europe, will often give fullness to the frame and color to the cheek, while the Englishman rarely grows stouter, but demst, invariably thinner during his soloorii iii A 'twice." 'Co the dryness of our atmosphere, - too, M. Demori would attrilmte that feverish activity HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 1, 1854. which seems to belong peculiarly to the Ameri can. He considers that the want of moisture in the air may act to some extent on the ner vous system, and supports his theory by noti cing the fact that a long continuance of a north-east wind—the wind that corresponds in dryness with our western one—produces the same kind of restlessness and activity among the inhabitants of the Jura. If a dry wind, blowing for a short time only among the Alps, can exert any such influenccp we can easily imngino that the comparative thorough dry ness of our climate may have something to do with that constitutional activity which is so rapidly advancing our people. Whether at the same time it really tends to a certain, though gradual deterioration of the physical and men tal system, is a most important question, to which we invite the attention of those compe tent to cast positive scientific light upon it. The Whip Snake. As the wind was yeering about rather capri ciously, I was casting my eye anxiously along the warp, to see how it bore the strain, when, to my surprise it appeared to my eye to thicken at the end next the tree, and presented some thing like a screw, about a foot long, that oc ensionally shone like glais in the moonlight, began to snore along the taunt line like a spir itual motion. All this time one of the boys was fast asleep, resting on his folded arms on the gunwale, his head having dropped down on the stern of the boat. But one of the Spanish boatmen in the canoe that was anchored close to us, seeing me gazing at something, had cast his eyes in the same direction. The instant he caught sight of the object he thumped with his palms on the side of the canoe, exclaiming in a loud, alarmed tone, "Culebra! eukbra !" "A snake! a snake "—on which the reptile made a sudden and rapid slide down the line towards the bow of the boat, where the poor lad was resting his head, and immediately af terwards dropped into the sea. The sailor rose and walked aft, as if nothing had happened amongst his messnmtes, who had been alarmed by the cries of the Spanish eanoeman; and I was thinking little of the matter, when I heard some anxious whispering amongst them.— "Fred," said one of the men, "what is wrong that you breathe so hard?" "Wln-,•boy, what ails you I" said another. "Something has stung me," at length said the poor little fellow, speaking thick, as if he had labored under sore throat. The truth flashed on me—a candle was lit—and on looking at hint he appeared stunned, complained of cold, and suddenly no sumed a wild startled look. He evinced great anxiety and restlessness, accompanied by a sudden and severe prostration of strength—still continuing to complain of great and increasing cold and chillness, but he did not shiver. As yet no part of his body was swollen except ve ry slightly about the wound; however, there was a rapidly increasing rigidity of the monocles of the neck and throat, and within half an hour after he was bit, he was utterly disable to swal low even liquids. The small whip-snake, the most deadly asp in the whole list of noxious reptiles, peculiar to South America, was not above fourteen holies long: it made four small punctures with its fangs right over the left jugular vein, about an inch below the chin. There was no blood oozing from them; but a circle about the size of a crown-piece, of a dark red, surrounded them which gradually melted into blue, at the outer rim, which again became fainter, until it disappeared in the natural color of the skin.— By the advice of the Spanish boatman, we ap plied an embrocation of the leaves of the patina Christi, or castor oil nut, as hot as the Ind could bear it: but we had neither oil nor hot milk to give internally, both of which they informed us often prove specifies. Bather than lie at an chor until morning, under these melancholy circumstances, I shoved out into the rough water, but we made little of it; and when the day broke, I saw that the poor fellow's fate was sealed, his voice had become inarticulate, the coldness had increased, the legs and arms be came quite stiff, the respiration slow and diffi cult, as if the 'Jlood had coagulated, and could no longer circulate through the heart, or as if,. from some unaccountable effect of the poison on the nerves the action of the former had been impeded;—still the poor little fellow was per fectly sensible, and Isis eyes bright and restless. His breathing became still more interrupted— he could no longer be said to breathe, but gasped; and in half an hour, like the steam engine when the fire is withdrawn, the strokes, or contractions awl expansions of his heart, became slower and slower, until they ceased altogether. From the very moment of his death, the body began rapidly to swell and to lie discolored; the ffice and neck especially; were nearly ns black as ink within half an hour of it, when blood began to flow from the mouth, and other symptoms of rapid decomposition succeeded each other so fast, that by nine in the morning we had to sew Lim up in a boat sail, with a large stone and launch the body into the sea.—Prqf Wilson. A Rolling Stone Gathers no Moss. Well I what of that? Who wants to be a mossy old stone, away in sonic dark corner of a pasture, where sunshine and fresh air never come, for the cows to rub themselves against and for snails and bugs to crawl over, and for toads to stria under among poisonous weeds ? It is far better to be a smooth and polished stone, rolling along in the brawling stream of human life, wearing off the rough corners, and bringing out the firm crystalline structure of the granite, or the delicate veins of the agate, or the chalcedony. It is this perpetual chafing and rubbing in the whirling eurretiOthat shows what sort of grit a man is made of, and what use he is made of, and what muse he is good for. The sandstone and soapstone are soon ground down to sand and mud, but a firm rock is selected fur the towering fortress, and the diamond is cut and polished for the monarch's crown, New York on the Nebraska 4nestion. . It is due to the populous and wealthy State of New York that we shatild transfer to our columns the subjoined resolutions, in which the Legislature of New York Las officially made known the voice of its People on the great public question now pending in Congress. These resolutions passed both branches of the Legislature by decisive mnjorites. In - the House of Assembly the vote upon them was yeas 80, nays 27. In the Senate the first three were passed by a vote of 18 to 11, and the last one by 23 yeas to 6 nays: Resolved, That we view with deep regret and with unfeigned alarm the proposition con tained in a bill to organize the Territory of Ne braska, submitted on the fwenty-third day of January, eighteen hundred and fifty-four, to the Senate of the United States from the Commit tee on Territories, whereby it is declared that the "eighth section of the act preparatory to the admission of Missouri into the Union, ap proved March sixth, eighteen hundred and twen ty, was superseded by the principles of the leg islation of eighteen hundred and fifty, common ly called compromise measures, and it is here by declared inoperativei" that the adoption of this provision would be in derogation of the truth, a gross violation of plighted filith, and an outrage and indignity upon the free States of the Union, whose assent has been yielded to the admission into the Union of Missouri and of Arkansas with slavery, in reliance upon the faithful observance of the provision (now sought to be abrogated) known as the "Missouri com promise," whereby slavery was declared to be "forever prohibited in all that territory ceded by France to the U. S., under the name of Louisiana, which lies North of thirty-six degrees thirty minutes North Latitude, not included within the limits of the State of Missouri." Resolved, That inasmuch as it is expressly and in terms enacted. in an net entitled. "An net proposing to the State of Texas the estab lishing of her northern and western boundaries, the relinquishment by the said State of all ter ritory claimed by her exterior to said bounda ries, and of all her claims upon the United States, and to establish a Territorial Govern ment for New Mexico," approved September 9, 1850, as follows, viz: "Nothing herein contain ed shall lie construed to impair or qualify any thing contained 'in the third article of the sec ond section of the joint resolution fin annexing Texas to the United States, approved March 1, 1845, either as regards the number of States that may hereafter be firmed out of Texas or otherwise," which said third article of the sec ond section of the joint resolution for annex ing Texas contains the following provision:— "And in such State or States as shall be form ed out of said territory north of said Missouri compromise line slavery or involuntary servi tude (except for crime) shall be prohibited," the principle and the application of the com promise is maintained unimpaired and un qualified, and that the Legislature and the peo ple of this State will hold the application by Congress of a contrary intent, at this time, to be in derogation of the truth, an arbitrary exer cise of assumed power, an unjust and unwor thy violation of good faith, and an indignity to the free States of the Union. Resolved, That, although the people of the State of New York have abolished slavery within their limits,' and have thereby expressed their disapprobation of the holding in bondage of human beings, they are not disposed to in terfere with the rights of other States to regu• late their internal policy according to their own sense of right. But at the same time duty to themselves and to the other States of the Union demands that, when nn effort is making to vio late a solemn compact, whereby the polities' power of the State and the privileges as well as the honest sentiments of its citizens will he jeoparded and invaded, they should raise their voice in protest against the threatened infrac tion of their rights, and declare that the nega tion or repeal by Congress of the Missouri com promise will he regarded by them as a violation of right rind faith, and destructive of that confi dence and regard which should attach to the enactments of the Federal Legislature. Resolved, That our Senators and Represent atives in Congress be requested to oppose any action which shall look in any degree to a re peal or to a negation of the binding force of the provisions known as the Missouri compro mise, and that they use rill honorable efforts to defeat the passage of that or any other bill vio lating said compromise, or authorizing or al lowing the establishment of slavery in any por tion of the Territories of the United States north of the line established preparatory to the admission of Missouri as aforesaid. White-washing Extraordinary. The Rev. James Williams, the well known and philanthropic missionary, so long residing iu the South Sea Islands, taught the natives to manufacture lime from the coral of their shores. The powerful effect produced upon them, and the extraordinary uses to which they applied it, he thus facetiously describes : "After having laughed at the process of burn ing, which they believed to he to cook the co ral for their food, what was their astonishment when in the morning they found his cottage glittering in the rising -sun, white as snow—they stlng, they shouted and screamed with joy. The .whole island was in commotion, given up to wonder and curiosity, and the laughable scenes which ensued, after they got possession of the brush and tub baffle description. The boa toss immediately voted it a cosmetic and kalydor, ' and superlatively happy did many a swarthy, coquette consider herself, could she but enhance her charms by a dab of the whitebresh. And now party spirit ran high, as it will do in more civilized countries, as to who was or not best entitled to preference. One party urged their superior rank; one had got the brush, and was determined at all events to keep it; and a third tried to overturn the whole, that they might ob. Lain some of the sweepings. They did not even scruple to rob each other of the little share that some had been so happy to secure. But soon new lime was prepared, and in a week not a hut, a domestic utensil, a war club, or a gar ment, but what was as white as snow; not an inhabitant but had a skin painted with the most grotesque figures not a pig but what was similarly whitened, and oven mothers might ho seen in every direction with extravagant gest ures, and yelling with delight at the superior beauty of their white-washed infants." Improvement in Building, A valuable improvement has been introduced in the construction of the now Pacific Mills, in Lawrence. Wooden pillars or supporters are used in the buildings. A hole is bored through the centre of each of these supporters, about an inch in diameter, connecting at each end with the outer air, by means of a small perforation in the side of the post. This admits of a free circulation of air on the inside as well . as on the outside of the wood; it allows the sap to escape and the post ccasequently grows harder and harder with years. In this manlier the wood is rendered much muro durable, without any sacrifice of strength, The Dead Wife. In comparison with the loss of a wife all oil'. er berenvments are trifles. The wife ! she who fills so large a space in the domestic heaven, she who is so busied, unwearied—bitter, bitter is the tear that falls on her clay. You stand beside her grove and think of the past, it seems an umber-colored pathway, where the nun shone upon beautiful 9 sworn, or the stars hung glittering overhead. Fain would the soul lin ger there. No thorns arc remembered above that sweet clay, save those your own hand may have unwillingly planted. Pier noble, tender heart lies open to your inmost sight. You think of her as all gentleness, all beauty and purity. But she is dead! The dear head so often laid upon your bosom, now rests upon a pillow of clay. The hands that ministered so untiringly are folded, white and cold, beneath'' the gloomy portals. The heart whose every bent measured an eternity of love, lies under your feet. And there is no white arm over your shoulder now; no speaking face to look up in the eye of love; no trembling lips to mur mur—"Oh, it is too sad !" There is so strange a hush in every room! No smile to greetyou at night fall—and the clock ticks and strikes and ticks. It was sweet music when she could hear it! Now it seems' to knell only the hours through which you watched the shadows of death gathering upon her sweet face. But many a tale it telleth of joys past, sorrows shared and beautiful words and deeds register. ed above. You feel that the grave cannot keep her. You know that she is in a happier world, but felt that she is often by your side, an angel presence. Cherish these emotions; they will make yen happier. Let her holy presence be as a charm to keep you from evil. In ell new and pleasent connections, give her place in your heart. Never forget what she has done for you—that she loved you. Be ten- Or to her memory. "I Hoped on—Hoped Ever!" Thus spoke one who had reached the peak of victory. Storms had come upon him; shad own dragged their heavy skirts over the hills and mountains of life; cares and sorrows lashed their burdens on his shoulders; trials and vicis situdes assailed him—but amid them all, lie had kept his hope; and now, crc the middle watch was passed, the angels had set their seal upon him, and dropped upon his brow the wreath of triumph. The gloom was gone for ever; rind as ho stood with his feet within the goal, the sunshine from the "Eden hills" fell around him, and far out in the valley of the Futnre, lie saw the "fadeless laurel trees" with in whose shade his evening days should ebb away, softly and gently, as a dream of Heaven. "Hope on—hope ever;" this is the true phil• osophy. If life is chilled by passive woe, or dimmed by care, Hope is as a song-bird in the heart, breathing hymns continually. Yea, it runs through all the weary years as a golden chain let down from Heaven, to lead the soul to holy thoughts and the pure communion of the Immortals. When Alexander, as he was about to under take his expedition against Persia, distributed the'estates of the crown among his countrymen, he was asked what he had reserved for himself? Ho answered, "Hors: I" So every soldier in life's battle-fields should reserve his Hope, for it shall lead him on, no matter what opposes, to lime and conquest. Brother, give all else you have, if you will, but, like Alexander, keep your Hopel The Newspaper. How lonesome the fireside where there is no newspaper! Ask the latest news, good stories, the useful lessons, and the witty sayings of the newspaper—ask him its valise. Let him be deprived of it for a few weeks, and then asked to put an estimate upon it. Will lie sny that two or three dollars are too much No, no; ho will esteem it one of his greatest treasures, and value it accordingly. We were led to those reflections the other day, by an industrious, worthy man, who called at our office to subscribe for a paper. Said he, "I was taking it, but times were so hard, I paid up and quit; and I cannot get along without it. I have not the money to pay now, and I have called to sco if I could get it on credit till fall; for I must have it on some terms—l would not be without it for ton dollars." Of course we placed his name on our list with great cheerfulness. Such men are the best subscribers in the world, (except those who pay down.) They will always pay at the time it falls due. Every family ought to have a paper; it is a duty they owe to their children, if nothing else. Who wishes their children to grow in perfect ignorance, in order to save the price of a news paper. Sure Recipe for Happiness. One of the wealthy merchants of our city, whose death the past year was universally mourned, often told his friends an anecdote which occurred in his own experience, and which was recommended to all those who de sire to enjoy a serene old age, without allowing their wealth to disturb their peace of mind. He said that when he had obtained a fortune, he found he began to grow uneasy about his pecu niary affairs, and one night, when he was about sixty years of age his sleep was disturbed by unpleasant thought respecting some shipments he hail just made. Is the morning he said to himself. "This will never do; if I allow such thoughts to gain the mastery over me, I must bid farewell to peace all my life. I will stop this brood of care at once, and at a single blow." Accordingly, he went to his counting. room, and upon examination found he had 30,- 000 is money on hand. • He made out a list of his relatives and others he desired to aid, and before he went to bed again, he had given away every dollar of the 30,000. He said he slept well that night, and fur a long time his dreams were not disturbed by anxious thoughts about his vessels or property. 04- Knowledge is the parent of dominion, The Slanderer, BY NORTH WELLER The slanderer is a pest, a disgrace, incubus to society, that should be subjected to a slow cauterization, and then lopped off like a disa• greenble excressence. Like the viper, he leaves a sliming trail in his wake. Like a tar antula, le weaves a thread of candor with a web of wiles, or with all the kind mendaeitpof hints, whispers forth his talc, that, "like the fabling Nile, no fountain knows." The dead —aye, even the dead—over whose pale sheeted corpse sleeps the dark sleep no venomed tongue can awake, and whose pale lips have then no voice to plead, are subjected to the scandalous attacks of the slanderer— Who wears a mask the Gorgon would disown, A cheek of parchment, and an eye of stone! I think it is Pollock who says the slanderer is the foulest whelp of sin, whose tongue was set on fire in hell, and whose legs were faint with haste of propagate the lie his soul had framed. He has a lip of lies, a face formed to conceal, That, without feeling, mocks at those who feel. There is no nnimal I despise more than these moths and scarabs of society, these ma- ciour censurors— These ravenous fishes who tbllow only in the wake Of great ships, because perchance they're great. Oh, who would disarrange all society with their false lap-wing cries. The slanderer makes few direct charges and assertions. His long, envious fingers point to no certain locali ty. He has an inimitable shrug of the should ers, can give peculiar glances, Or convey a libel in a frown, Or wink a reputation down! He seems to glory in the misery he entails. The innocent wear the foulest impress of his smutty palm, and a soul pure as "arctic snow twice 'bolted by the northern blast," through his warped and discolored glasses, wears a mottled hue. A whisper broke the air— A soft, light tone, and low, Yet barbed with shame and woe 1 Nor might it only perish there, Nor further go 1 Al, me I a quick and eager car Caught up the little meaning sound; Another voice then breathed it clear, And so it wandered round, From car to lip, from lip to ear, Until it reached a gentle heart, And that—il broke! Vile wretch I ruiner of fair innocence by foul slanders in thine own dark, raven-plumed soul distilled— Blush—if of honest blood a drop remains To steal its way along thy veins! Bluelt--if the bronze long hardened en thy cheek Sae left one spot tchere that poor drop con speak! " Stop my Paper." The following remarks are too good to be thrown aside, without at least a passing notice. They are true to the letter, and suitable to all localities. We are of opinion that the weakest capacity cannot fail to understand then, It is astonishing what exalted notions some persons have of their own importance. They I seem to imagine they are altogether necessary to the onward roll of our little world, and that if, by any means, they should be shoved out of the way, the screws would be so loose that the ' old machine would no longer hold together; and, of course, if such important personages only say to an editor, "stop my paper," the whole establishment must go to pot instanter. We have often laughed in our sleeve—though out wardly we looked as grave as an owl—when one of these regulators of the world has marched into our editorial sanctum, and ordered a dis- continuance of his paper. And it always does ns good to see how the starch is taken out of him, while the editor smilingly replies, "Cer tainly, sir, with the greatest pleasure, just as soon as the clerk has entered a hundred or more names, which have just been sent in."— The mighty man wilts down, like the narrative of a whipped spaniel, and he shrinks away muttering to himself, "Well, I am afraid that stopping my paper has not ruined him after all." These swells, who stop their papers on ne• count of some miff which has found its way in• to their cranium, are sure to watch the time of the next issue, thinking that another number will make its appearance; and they are sure to borrow their neighbor's copy to see if it does not contain the editor's farewell address to his readers. We once knew a minister, who, in describing the Christian's character, and the circumspec tion of his walk, said the way to heaven requi• red as much care as it did for a cat to walk on a wall covered with broken bottles. It is some• thing so with an editor, if he is to please every person. The Squire's Story, "Oh I" says the Squire, "I wish% I was mar ried and well of it, I dread it powerful. I'd like to marry a widow, I alters liked the wid ows since 1 knowed ono sown in Georgia that suited my ideas edzactly. "About a week after her husband died, she started down to the grave-yard : where they planted of him, as p she said, to read the pre scription unto his monument. When she got there, she stood looking at the stones which was put at each end of the grave, with an epi. taph on 'em that the minister had writ for her. "01 boo hoo," said she, "Jones—he was one of the best of men; I remember how the last time he come home about a week agog 'to brought down from town some sugar and tea, and some store goods for me, and lots of little necessaries, and a little painted horse for Jeems, which that blessed child got his mouth all yuller. with noticing it, and then he kissed the children all round, and took down that good old fiddle of his'n and played up that good old tune— "Rake her down, Sal: oh rang dang diddle, Oh I rang Bang diddle dung, dung, dung de 'llere;' says the Squire, "she began to dance, and I just thought she was the greatest woman ever I see." The Squire alwnye gives ft short laugh after telling this uneednte, nod then; filling and lighting his pipe, subsides into nn armchair, in front of the •liacchang,e; and indulges in calm and dreamy reflections. NO. 8. Advice to Housewives, Britanna should be first rubbed gently with woolen cloth and sweet oil, then washed in warm suds, and rubbed with soft leather and whiting. Thus treated it will retain its beauty to the last. New iron should be gradully heated at first; after it has become inured to the heat it is not likely to crack. It is a good plan to put new earthen ware in. into cold water, and let it beat gradually until it boils—then cool again. Brown earthen ware, particularly, may be touiihened in this way.— A handful elm or wheat bran thrown in while it is boiling, will preserve the glazing so that it will not be destroyed by acid or salt. Clean a brass kettle before using it for cook ing, with salt and vinegar. The oftener carpets bra shaken the longer they will wear. The dirt that collects under them grir.ds out the threads. If you wish to preserve fine teeth, always clean them thoroughly after you have eaten your last meal at night, Woolens should be washed in very hot suds, and not rinsed. Lukewarm water shrinks them. Do not wrap knives and forks in woolens.— Wrap them in good strong paper. Steel is in• jured by lying in woolens, Barley straw is the best fur beds; dry corn husks slit into shreds are better than straw. When molasses is used in cooking, it is a prodigious improvement to boil and skim it be fore you use it. It takes out the unpleasant raw taste, and makes it almost as good as su gar. When Molasses is used much for cook ing, it is well to prepare ono or twe gallons ill this way at a time. Never allow ashes to be taken np in wood, or put into wood. Always have your matches and lamp ready for use in case of suddetr alarm. Have important papers all together, where you can lay your hand on them at once, in case of fire. Use hard soap to wash your clothes, and soft to wash your floors. Soft soap is so slip pery that it wates a good deal in washing clothes. It is easy to have a supply of hotse•radish all winter. Have a quantity granted whilr the root is in perfection, put it in bottles, fill it with vinegar, and keep it corked tight. The Ungrateful Son, "The eye that mocked' at his father, the ra vens of The valley shall pluck it out.-"—Prov. xxx., 17. This is a terrible denunciation against ingratitude to parents, and even in the present clay is sometimes virtually fulfilled. Sonic years ago, an Irish gentleman, who was an extensive contractor on our public works, was reduced to poverty by the profliga cy and dishonesty of an ungrateful son. The old man lost his wife, and to add to his calam ity, his health failed; and to fill his cup of sor row, he lost his sight. Thus, poor, friendless, blind and forsaken, lie found an asylum in the Franklin county alms-Louse, Pennsylvania. While an inmate of this refuge for the af flicted, his wicked and ungrateful son travelled that way; lie was informed of his father's situ ation, and that his parent wished to see him; and although he passed within two hundred yards of the alms-house, he refused to stop and see the kind father lie had ruined. Now, mark the result. The very day he passed the alms•hcwse on his way to Gettysburg, in an open carriage, ho was overtaken by a storm and took a severe cold that resulted in the destruction of his eyes. He lay in Gettysburg in a critical situ ation until his funds were exhausted, and those who had him in charge took him to the Frank lin county alms-house. The very day he was brought in, his Editor, having died the day before, was carried out.— He was put in the same room, occupied the same bed, and in a short time followed his ne glected and broken-hearted father to the judg ment seat of Christ. It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of an angry God, The Crystal Palace, The Directors of the Crystal Palace publish in the New York papers a statement of its af fairs. The low price at which the stock is sel. ling is accounted for in the fact that the com pany is in debt for $125,000, notwithstanding the liberal outlay of capital in advancing the enterprise. The expenses have been pretty nearly as large as the receipts, and the latter are found to be no mean item. The fallowing will show the condition of the company in brief: Capital paid in, Receipts, Total, 5878,709 Construction and fixtures, $634, 880 Expenses, 368,828-4,203,700 Deficit represented by debts, $125,000 The debt is secured by a mortgage on the building. The Directors say, in commenting upon this exhibit of the financial condition of the association, that the disappointment in re gard to the financial results of the enterprise is due mainly to the fact of the bantling not being completed at the time for which it was intended, viz, the first of May, 1863. In regard to the future, the Directors are very confident of success, if the importance of tho object is properly regarded by our people. As an In dustrial Exhibition, they regard the result of the enterprise as far beyond any thing that could have been expected. The report con cludes by announcing the determination of the Directors to make the Exhibition permanent, provided the stockholders consent, and regard the enterprise as certain to produce favorable financial results ander its present:greatly rodu. eed (Scale of expenditnre. An eloquent and sentimental loafer leaning against a friendly /amp post for sup• port, lifted up his voice and cried. "How are the mighty fallen I" A voice at his feet repli ed "Lengthwise in the gutter:' The first law of gravity—Never laugh at Tour own joke. $489,000 389,708