.. ..,......,. . 14 ...... ... ..... .. . , . • . 1 ,,,. .*.. . . .• .. . ...... 4, ... '• .„ . , .., .• `" / 1.• .... .. • '''' ' ' r. •- * • ' ''' ":: .7.c . .. • i , ':- 1.. , ,.,c , ..... - ,:•• : ., .• . ~ . • • • • . . 13 , 2' ROBERT' WHITE IZIZZLMTOII.I 52mai *--:0',..(-- -,11/: 7 - .'•.-. 3,'..,. , 7 ,... ..,4:.... ss ;„..:- ... „... ....,,_ ...„ ;'' - - ::--',- ~,iero ,%4* - A .-v 'With sweetest flowers enrieti'd Front various Gardens culPd with care." TO THE EVENING STAR STAR Or the west!--thy dewy beam Looks o'er our mingled joy and we— /Reflected in the Massy strenm, Thou deign's( to light the world belpw; While the wnver ripple their reply To the low breeze's evening sigh. Star or the west!—when Nature sleeps, And the last glance of day is gone, And when the balmy dery drop weeps, Tltou shin'st and sparklest there alone, And throw'st thy ray of silver light On the dun breast of coming night. Star of the west!—whose glories born, As if to guard while we are sleeping. Ere we retire, to thee we turn, And gaze where thou thy watch art keeping Thy gentle influence o'er us shed, ' And with sweet slumbers bicolour bed! And Thou, who road'st the glorious star, And guid'st it through its heavenly tligh Who guard'st us wheresoo'er we are, Through radiant day or gloomy night; Oh, shed around the willing heart The light that never can depart! VEta bE:JaV(DI2Y?o The Nature of Betrtithment From "Courtship and Marriage." DY TIIE REV. J. M. DAVIS. What is the nature of a betrothmenfl— And what are the circumstances which will render it null and void First—l remark that a matrimonial en• gagement does not consist in . any of the civilities ai•d courtesies of life which a gen tleman may extend to a lady. , It is not anfrequently the case, however, 'that these are mistaken for declarations of love, and the announcement is made at once that such persons are engaged. Such is the imprudence of friends often, and more fre quently of the ladv herself, that the common politeness and attention, which are ever due • between the sexes, are construed into pro posals for matrimony, and a young gentle man hears the report of his engagement, while, as yet, not even a dream of the thing has passed through his own mind. By such imprudence the lady severs herselffrom the society, perhaps, of an honourable and pol ished mind, and brings upon herself and . friends the mortification and disappointment which would inevitably follow in such cases. y'a gentleman attend a lady to church; if hi. escort her to the public assembly; if he walk with her in the street; if. he odcattinn _illy visit her for the sake oflffir'good socie - . .ety, the report is not unfrequently set on foot, by some mischief-inaker,or indiscreet friend • that the parties are engaged to be married. •,•••• Second—Neither does an engagement consist . in any politeness or social intelicourse ii which a lady may extend to e gentleman. There are young gentlemen. however, of such consumate vanity as to simpose that such treatment is nothing less than the strongest intimation of personal attachment. If a Ludy so much as look at them they fancy that it must be a love affair, and equivalent to the most direct proposals for matrimony. smile, a compliment, a social interview, --- kh walk or ride of pleasure, is set down by such conceited coxcombs, as the nest une quivocal dela ration oflove. They tell ofthe conquest they have made with an air ofl triumph, and never know their mistake Hl' they learn it in that reserve and neglec which their conduct so licitly deserves. 1 hird—Neither does an eniTagemee consist in any of • these preliminary steps • •-:which aro so important, in order to a just 'i, , istiMate of the character and qualifications --cstlfikt person with whom you wou1:1 be uni • : tti4 i life. .;:any persons, however, imagine that ,7'•:-• , every such step is a step a . cominittni.— Tighile the individual is only forming that Y.:•&sttise estimate, and making those judicious `::investigations which every one is bound to make in this affair, by a regard to his own '-happiness and that of others, he is consider ed as fairly committed,without the posibility '`' of honourable retreat. But this is all wrong, whether it be the sentiment ofindividuals, or public sentiment. The very object of :his researches is to ascertain if the charac. tot and qualifications of the persori are such as will make him a happy companion (fir life. Without such investigation, he might as well commit his interest in this matter to a lady whom he had never beheld. He might as well be betrothed, as hoe' hen chil. drop by their parents, .without his consent or knowledge, and while vet in a state of in fancy. He might as well blindfold himself . , and rush into a great assembly, and select ',a companion at random. Parents mu.t sup. • 'pose their daughters little less than angels, if they expect to betroth them in this man• filer. And if young ladies are so superficial i . characte r and accomplishment , as not to n mit of such honourable and wise scrutiny, 1 t ey had better give up the idea of marriage . 1 ife, and become nuns at once Such should i )be the sentiments on this subject, that every • young gentleman should fee, himselt at lib. erty to make every necessary investigation of character, witheut subjecting him •elf to the report of being engaged, or of other than honourable intentions, if, disappointed, • he sees fit to retire. • Folirth.—Neither does nn engagement consist in the most unqualified declaration of loveron the part of either the gentlemen or the lady. This may all be, yet no obliga tions are • assumed—no contract is formed. And yet there are those who 'suppose that such declarations of attachment impose an obligation on their friend, which cannot be resisted or violated. • The gentleman, whose province it always is first to mike stick die• clfisures, considers that when lo; l o s s clone this, he' has secured, by right, his object. But not so. The 'lady may be wholly.un• prepared for such an event. Such a disclo sure may be made before she has made the necessary inquiries and investigations her self. Such a declaration may be made when she had no. suspicion of any attach mem existing, and whilst her own engage 'Denis and cilcurnstanres' do not admit of her entertaining such proposals for a mo• ment.. It is true, such a disclousure on the part of the gentleman imposes certain duties on the female. If her circumstances are such as to render no engagement imposei• hie, she is bound by every principle to nc• quaint him immediately with the fact, and keep the transaction n secret. If her cir• cumstatices are such as to render it proper for her to enter Into. a matrimonial engage. went, it. is proper then that she make his proposals a matter of immediate and serious consideration. If she is satisfied with his character, and entertains such an affection for him as will render a union with him hap• pv, she has nothing left but to make known to him, in a modest and affectionate man ner hnr acceptance of his proposals. But, if after due consideration, and inquiry, and deliberatioff; she is conducted to a contrary conclusion, she should lose no time in in• forming him of the fact, in a way least like ly to wound his sensibilities or mortifying his pride. She will consider it, too both a dictate of modesty, and prudence, and hon• our, to disclose the circumstance to no liv• inc being. Fifth.—A matrimonial engagement, then is when the parties, having made mutual disclosures of of for each other, in view of such disclosures bind themselves. to promises, to become each other's wedded companion for life. There must be a con tract fiirrned, in which the parties pledge thern.elves to each other for life, or there can be no matrimonial engagement. Noth ing short of this cnn be accounted a betroth ment, and nothing more is necessary to perfection. MY FIRST LOVE. EY THOMAS MILLER., . Had eve never loved so kindly, Had wo never loved so blindly, Never met or never parted, We bad never been broken-hearted. BeaNS Blessed art thou, oh Memory! who canst at once waft me over the dim foot path o bygone years to the green hills where my forefathers lived. Who canst again bring the sweet music of that voice upon mine ears; which bath long ago been hushed. Thou hest indeed been a light in the dark- ness, illuminating the gloomy recesses of the mind, when Hope pilbawed her head. upon the lap of despair, and Care had no one but sorrow to hush her, when even Pa. tience was wearied, and Resignation had turned to marble. When the heart was heavy, and cold, and dejected, and tried to shrink from its own beatings, then halt thou come, sweet Memory. upon the beam' of the blue. starlight, and whispered me to sleep with murmurings dreamy-voiced, sounds not so loud aa the dancing leave. when they move and make no noise. And thou hest borne me away to Ihe green val es of my childhood, whore my fnir•hnirer p ay•mates were in waitine, who n Time wore golden ringlets, and we dandle-! with his long hair, never believing that it would grow gray, when he threw his ecythe among the flowers, never deeming that it was keen, and made a toy of, his glass not knowing that we gave speed to its sand. Oh Margaret, where art thou now? thine eyes may be dark, thy lips mute, and thy cheeks wan, but where is thy love? the kindlintr of thy spirit, that impreknated the air with delight when we met; surely it he longed not to Time or Death. Oh no! it only became heavier when thou wert dead, and settled upon me like a leaden cloud, an oppressive mantle that was cold; even when I drew it tightly around me, it afforded me no warmth. And when Our lips met in the still night, thine were chill and shadowy, and though they shrank not, they had lost their fullness, and melted awav like the mist, and when they moved there came forth no sound, it they blessed me it was in silence. Dead! no, thou art not dead. Nay, I have not yet spoken to thee. What a lovely summer's evening that was when I wander. ed into Lea wood with Shakspeare's TEM PEST for a companion. I had never read it before. Oh, how I envy the youth who has such an old wont! to walk in, and the ‘Temnest' to read for the first time, and the soul of a poet to enjoy its beauties, for then will the branches of hoary trees twist thetn• I selves into the rigging of shins, and every whispering leaf will sound like the oceat,, and every rustling footstep in the grass hiss like a breaker upon the beach. The birds will become mariners, the sky be darkened with foliage, the sinking sun dart like light ning through the gloom, and away he wi I bound to the lonely island, inhabited Prospero, !Miranda, Ariel, and Caliban.— Ohl it was summer then! she had come again, waving her green garlandry over hill and valley, and heeding . the long grass with her breezy fontstens. She had spread her gorgeous mantle of crimson heath bells over the wide forestastes and brown moors, and left a deeper twilight in the dense woods. That evening l'heard her voice talking among the Nig leaves, and babbling through the green corn, and I caught her fragrant breath as I. passed through the hayfield. I saw her skiev eyes mirrored in e rivers, and the skirts of her golden drapery trailing over a thousand flowers.— She touched the leaves with her sunny fin. gers and they bounded upon their braliches in rustling music; the willow nodded before her, and the poppy - waved the rich velvet of its banner as she rssed. I heard Ariel -'Under tho blossoms that bun en the "I WISH NO 'OTHER HERALD, NO OTHER SPEAKER OF Mlir LIVING ACTIONS, - TO KEEP 'RINE HONOR . FROM 0 - 0/IRDPTI " N.."=•••SIKAKiI saaewlr wawa:alga. 4 ) 42.0 9 artumix,alro oacwaaNuatraut vo amo No, it was no voice, but my heated fan. cV; and I closed Shakspeare, for the rain fell in torrents, and the thunder roared like a thousand lions among the echoes of the forest, and the lightning flashed frightfully at intervals, lighting up for a moment the dusky dells; then again leaving all in dark ness. On I wandered, in the blind mazes of the wood. now extricating myself from some bramble; then again dashing through a river of long grass, or rustling through the rain-drenched fern, until at length, at the meeting of two avenues, I came in con tact with an elderly man. He wore a long frock, and grasped in his band a stick. I looked at him, and thought of Prospero, with his magic garment and . wand. He opened his lips, but instead of talking about "cloud capped towers, and gorgeous palaces and solemn temples," he invited me to his cave until the storm abated. He was a kind magician; by the side of his cottage were piled logs of wood; but I saw not Fer dinand. Cnliban barked as we entered.— Oh! what a lovely vision burst upon me as I entered that cave (for Shakspeare was still with me) it was indeed a beauteous he trig, :ovely as his own Miranda What mu sic hung on her tongue, as she inquired "if her father was wet;" and then she reached me a chair, and threw more logs upon the, fife, "which when they burnt, did weep for having wearied her." Never had so much beauty met mine eye— So perfect and so peerless, as if created Of every creature's best. Like Ferdinand. I soon became a "pa !lent lay-man" for her sake, and piled up the fire to dry my clothes, happy that the tempest had driven me to such a lovely place. Then I thought of Shakspenre and the cave, of Juan and Haidee, Calypso and her lovely nymphs; weaving- in. the won : drous cavern, her heart aching at the crash of every tree, which, like the clicking pen dulum, told of Uulysses' departure, of Rosa- Itnd and Orlando in the wood, and the fair lady in ComuS, and then I gazed upon my Miranda. Never had Poet, in his happiest mood of wind, conju'red up a fairer form; never did i lovelier being pass before the imagination of the bard, when he lay dreaming of Viola, by the murmuring waters of Avon. Her eyes were bright as Desdemona's,when they were lighted with love and wonder, listen ing to Othello telling Of most disastrous chances, Or moving accidents by flood and field. Of hair-breadth 'scenes th' imminent deadly breach. Her father had read Shakspeare, and she was also familiar with the immortal poet, and merrily rung their laughter as they compared me to Ferdinand, and their ow sweet cottage to the cave t and the wet frock to Prospero's magic garment, and the stick to his wand. and the huge shepherd dog to Caliban, and the old wood to the lonely island, and their own blackbird to 'dainty riel." And Margaret blushed when 1 compared her to Miranda, and parted her long• tressoq from her lovely forehead, and looked down upon the floor, and swung her fairy foot to and fro, and the fire light fell upon her fair neck, and it shone like a col iimn °livery in the sunset. And I thought how delightful it would be to wander with her "To the best springs, to pluck her ber ries, to gather her wood enough; to . bring her to where the crabs grew, to show her a jay's nest, and to instruct her how to snare the nimble marmozet, to show her where the clustering filberts hung, and gather young sea-gulls from the rocks." Nay, to do more than ever Caliban promised Ste- phano, and had not her Gather been by, I dare have said. "Wilt thm go with me?" * * • ALL FOLLY. -Mr. Joseph Folly, of Ohio, lately advertised his wife for leaving "his bed and board." His wife, in return, says the "board was very hard as well as the bed." This was not only a foolish, but a very hard case. VEGHTABLEB.—"The best vegthetable," said a lisping old maid, to a friend, "that ever 1 eat, oath a clam." A citizen remarked in company that he had never seen an ear of rye in his life. A young lady then present, whose name was Miss Rye, showed one of her ears and said, "Here, sir, is an ear of Rye, which if you please you may. behold. The gentleman immediately caught hold of her ear, and gave it a pinch . . 'Nay, madam, said he, 'you have a very wry face too." Scut:firm= COAL TRADE.—We learn from the Pennsylvania Miner's Journal that "810 boats, loaded with coal, have descend ed the Schuylkill from Pottsville, during the present season, carrying 3'70,309 tons of coal. The shipments of the week ending on the 22d inst. amounted to 261 boats, car rying 13,633 tons. boughs." I saw him et-pitching "where the bee sucked in the bell of a cowslip." But I was a youth then, scarce sixteen; how very old has ten years made me; it will be long again befOre every maiden [mks like Miranda. It will be long before I see an other Margaret, and I can never forget. the 'Tempest,' never grasp it again as "a beauty and a mystery." Hark! how it thunders; could it be my own fancy kindled by Shak spea re—crack, crack!— no, it was no dream. The goodlivit tree of the forest fell with that crash—what a night was that—how the scythe:winged lightning flashed through ; the wood. I heard the sound of mariners in distress, arid a voice came upon my ears, singing, . Full fathom five thy father Iles; Of his hones are coral made; Those aro pearls that were his eyes, Nothing of him doth fade." VARIETY'. The horn—the horn is sounding nigh, The huntsmen onwards ride; With hawk and hound right cheerily, To try your covert's side; The chase is strayed—but not for me, It loiters in the dell; . It tempts not, when away from thee, Sweet Isabel! MY hunting knife rusts on the wall, My falcon droops his wink.; My dogs ~whine loudly in the hall, To hear the summons ring. • O'er thicket, flood, and upland lea, Again its echoes Mitch; It tempts'net, when away from thee. Sweet Isabel ! The time has been, its lightest blast- Had bade me hurry on; No foot that to the greenwood past, With steps so free had gone. The field, as then, is fair to See, But though it promise well, It tempts not, when away from thee, Sweet Isabel ! Father Drink , d and ✓?lother Drink'd. I was riding with my daughter through that part of Roxbury, which is called the Canterbury road, when we passed a very ragged and barefooted little boy about ten years , of age. , We were mov ing slowly, and I soon perceived my chase to be inclining backward, and I inferred that the child we had passed had gotten on behind. I stopped the horse, without uttering a word, wlien the little fellow let go his hold, and, passing the chase, run rapidly forward in evident terror.. „ He is frightened out of his wits,” said my dough "He is probably accustomed to such treatment," I replied. Setting my horse forward we were fast overtaking the little runaway, whose cry of alarm was now distinctly audible. We were soon up with him,and perceiving the impossibility of escape, he suddenly stopped. He was crying bitterly, as he stood with his bare feet turned inward, his tat tered knees knocking together, and his right arm held over his eyes. "What's the matter, my poor boy," said I, as I got out of my chaise. "I thoughty4M would have beat me," he replied. "No, my poor child," said 1, .4 have no such ntention." t a oDo you get a beating often?" -;‘Yes, sir, said he. Patting the little fellow on the head, which was easily done, for he had no crown on his hat, "who beats you?" said I, "your father? "I have no father," said he, "father's dead, and hg gave way to a flood of tears. • -,!:! ! • Mere was something touching in the lip of this ragged, barefooted, fatheylesii . ,, daughter ccillld not refrain from weeping. "Your mother beats you then," said I. "Mother's dead too," said he. "And whom did: they die?" I enquired. "In the poor house," replied - the little orphan. "And what got them into the poor house," said I. ~ F ather drink'd and Mother drink'd," said he. The fitther and mother of the orphan child were, at one time, respectable residents of Roxbury.— The father pursued at one time a lucrative em ployment, in which ho was , particularly skilful.— Rum reduced him and his wife to wretchedness, and left their ollbpring, who is the subject of this painful recital, the poor, pennyless orphan child of a drunken father and drunken mother. [N. Y. Sun. ADVANTAGE OP A Comr.norrolv.—During the season of heavy rains a farmer's wifo sent her maid to a neigboring village on an errand, and scolded her on her return for staying so long. "Indeed," said the girl, whose clothes were dripping with wet, you may. bo glad to see me at all, for the brook is so swollen that I missed my footing and fell in; and had it not been for Providence and another woman, I certainly should have drowned.' A •AFFECTATION.—Evory thing is affectation which is not natural. Yet how often is that good breeding which proceeds from sensibility and deli cacy of feeling, and which cannot be mistaken by sensible persons, less esteemed than tho mimicry of mere - artificial characters. Persons who are accustomed to take others in high life for guides, do not seem to know that those exist•who can be guides unto themselves. Sir Thomas Moore used to say to his ail dren:— • "Let virtue bo your meat, and amusement your sauce." TUIINIP CUAMPAGNE.-A Now York paper says that nine-tenths of the champagne made in France and drank in this country, is made of tur nips. A selfish friendless man is like an icicle, with out warmth, feeling or any attracting qualities.— A blasted tree, sapless and leafless. Why is the extraction of a decayed tooth like the price of a lot of land? . Because it's ao much for an ache-er. i',..There is more real talent in finely managed shades of contrast, than in the extreme of opposi tion; the principal figures of a picture gains, when more of the figure in the piece are sacrificed to it. a4lozroasstcs.---Ignprance is of atiteculiar na ture;—once dispelled, it is impossible to re-estatP• bah it. It is not originally a thing of itself, but it is only the absence of knowledge; and, though man may bo kept ignorant, he cannot be made so when once informed. cc.Custuersa.—There are cases in which it is as impossible to restore character to life, as it is to recover the dead. It is a Phcenix that can ex pire but once, and from whose ashes there is no resurrection: 0: - 1.When love is consecrated to a legitimate object, it is the enthusiasm of virtue. (0 -Every vice makes the. possessor odious,but pride end ennity more then any other. Pride ha 4 SONG. it is already known to many, is now in our cit . ); and on Sunday night last, lectured to a groups of hearers, of both sexes, at Tam many Hall. If any one woman more than another in our country, has been instru mental in disgracing her sex and herself, that woman is Frances Wright. With a mind a little above the common order, and an education se , cient to puff her, up with an idea of her own importance, this import ed abomination, by the dissemination of her diabolical doctrines, has been enabled to poison the minds .of many of our fair, coun try-women—to tnsinuate into, their soft bo soms the insidious serpent of vice, and to de grade them as low in moral chastity as she is herself in every virtuous and amiable principle. That the ut.blushing impudence of this foul slander on the name of Woman, should be tolerated by any who profess to venerate the virtues of the sex, or who en teri tam the least regard for decency, is to us matter of astonishment. Yet ro it is. Men and women are found, silly, or stupid, or no friend; his thoughts set worth above himself, and all others under it. There is a kind of dis dainful scorn written in his brow. and gesture, that seems to say, am too good for thy com pany.' con-Not to know any thing of a science, bu that portion of it which individually belongs to 1129 is to apply the division of • labOr to the liberal stn` dies, when it is only adapted to the mechanic arts: . . . .. a-liTo know perfectly what we know gives a quietness to the mind, which resembles the sada. fitetion of a confidence. ccyrhat which characterises genuine' poetry, and renders it in some measure a iospet to the world, is the internal satisfaction with which it in- spires us;—a faculty which raises us . above our selves, and free us froui. the - heavy..yoke of our earthly failings. c-Cnciirr Alan Mouror.—Credit is often no more than an opinion; and the difference iietween credit and money is, that money requires no opin ion to support it. ().Discusstezr oY Por.yrics.—The principles and conduct of any government must be bad, when that government dreads and startles at discussion, and seeks security by a prevention of knowledge. j.Man has a great empire over man; and of all the evils ho can do his fellow-creature, tho greatest perhaps is to place the phantoms of ridi cule between generous emotions and the actions they would inspire. (a.Mtoirrr Pazrry.—lt often happens that a slight emotion draws tears which are frozen in their cells by stronger and deeper ones. ojOf all impressions ,reverie is precisely that which is most solitary; ;we can .hardly communi• cam its inspirations to the most intimate friend. ozyPolemie writers are men who arrange their rank and file chimeras with precision, and fancy that they form an army. i:l3-Ridicule, though trifling in appearance, is often found , to consist with great depth of malice. ryThe present, when it can be contemplate( apart from recollections and apprehensions, is stil the happiest moment of existence. o::)>The object of a chaste, yet ardent passion is much less than a wife, but far more than a sis ter. oFrst love, in an uncorrupted heart, pone trams the whole soul; it is allsentiment, and spit ituality. The New York Star says, the "recusant" girls of Lowell have sent in their adhesion, and tho factory wheels are again in lively motion. CoMMUNICATIoN BETWEEN TULATLAN. TIC AND PACIFIC.—A correspondent at Ba gota, writes the Editor , of the Pennsylva nian that the river Chagres, emptying into the Carribbean sea, is navigable to steam• boats drawing six feet water, to within fir teen miles of Panama, on the Pacific. This distance could be improved by a rail road as easily as that from Philadelphia to Norris town, by which a conveyance can be had from the Atlantic to the Pacific, in six hours. The writer adds;: "The bread stuffs, provisions and mann. factures of the United States will find a ready market in the Pacific twenty days after leaving our sea ports, instead of being exposed to a voyage of three months around Cape Hern, during which time the flour and provisions are frequently damaged by being so long confined in the holds of ves eels in those warm climates. Our whale ships in the Pacific will be enabled to transmit promptly to the . United States any quantity of oil, however small, instead of being detained for years in accu• mulating a stock sufficient to justify a voy- age around the Cape. The provisions, naval stores and seamen for our national and private ships, will find a cheap conveyance across the Isthmus, and the slightest indication of an European war could be communicated to our Pacific squadron in twenty days from Washington city. Omtrions.--In a severe gale on Lake Michigan, on the 3rd instant, the Schooner Martin Van Buren was-entirely wrecked, and the Schr. Gen. Harrison had her side stove in and sunk. The steamer Daniel Webster lost her bowsprit, but rode out the storm triumphantly. From the Now York TranecripL Frances Wright Darusmont. This priestess of infidelityand atheism, MEM [VOL. 7--NO. 32. besotted enough, to go and sit by the hour, and hear this petticoa tad, vagabond utter her impious foolries; and stand erectia auribus, to catch the hoarse :Citchinations' of her voice, nit she. rants aliont a religion she is purposely incapable of comprehending/ and deals out damnations dgaittat morals, - order, government and law, when standing in op. posit ion to her revolutionary protects - Lew indeed, must infidelity have sunk,'whetil it condescends to listen' to the ravings uf wretched bedlainite; and bard put to itmust its booted reason be fir an advocate, when it is compelled to employ this Hecate oilier sex to deal out -its dispensations in . public harangue& *' • On the night 'in question,hoWertirOne infidel oratris, launched her barque" boldly into the political waters, and' talked' shout banks, and currency, and monopolies, with as flippant a tongue as though she, had been a bear on 'change. ' 'For this impertinent interference with matters that are none of her business, nor the business of het ~ex, some of her enlightened auditoni greatly applauded her, and seemed to be as com. pletely captivated by her attempts to anni hilate banks, as, they end have been by her blasphemous efforts to -dethrone a God. WWI this withering curse in the shape of a women, we wish nothing more to do then to warn all virtuous, females—if any such there be' who attend to witness her m cantations—to beware of the fatal tendency of her doctrines; and if . words are insufficient to reach and rescue them from the , misery and ruin that this arch , enemy of virttuf. la preparing for them, we would point them to the brothels where some of her female die. eiples are libidinising, and then lead theta to the aishonorod graves where prostitutes of her creation are rotting. 'lf these ` would not arouse them from the danger/and dead. liness of her doctrines, archangels' voices might be lifted in vain'to warn. DELAWARE.--This -gallant' little State has given an increased majority' for the Whig ticket, as tested .at the Inspecteee election. in New Castle County the Van Buren majority is reduced from ,200 to about 80. Kent County has increased from 50 to over IEIO Whigmajority. 'Sue. sex County has given a Whig Majority of more than 300. The State is safe for 800 or 800 Harrison majority. ' The spirit of the gallant Kirkwood,—the same glorious enthusiasm for the Constitution which prompted this State to give the first vote for its adoption,—that love of liberty and law which shone so conspicuous in Dela ware during the Revolution still exist,— still flourish with undiminished vigor, and her noble sons are determined :never to surrender their native State into thelands of men who have worthily earned the names of Tories by their slavish devotion to anti : Republican prineiplee--and 'their at. tempts to coerce freemen into subjection by - official dictation, or to seduce their patriat. ism by bribery and corruption.—Anierscan Patriot. . . 144311 T DIMARING IN THE WEirrt—Tbe Harrison ticket in Ohio, has outrun all *XX. pectations.' Ohio, which gave Jackson over 3,000 majority, this year will give Harri son 1.0.000. The greatest enthusiasm t)revails in Ohio, and througout the_whole West for Harrison, and to bean opponent of Harrison is regarded as a mark of base ingratitude, and as evidencing a great want of patriotic feeling. The news from Ohio is most glorious. - It is believed that hardly one . Van Buren Congressman can be elect• ed. This auspicious result in Ohio will have an excellent einct upon all the bor dering Ste tes--India na , Illinois, Tennessee, and the whole West will rise en maim-end give an overwhelming majority for "the Hero who never last a battle." Friends of the Constitution read and rejoice! Free. men of Pennsylvania, of Delaware; the re deemed 'West calls upon you to shake off your lethargy, and to strike one more ef ficient and glorious blow for the Constitu tion and the Republic.—lbid. By the latest accounts from Peynnslva it seems that the democratic or Nan Buren party has succeeded in electing a majority of members to the Legislature.— Last year it will be recollected that the Anti-Masons had a majority in "the , same body. Why do the Masonic purty now have a majority?—ln the (Anti-Masonic) state convention in that state in. December last this party was traded off to the. Whigs, who have always been in the minority there; consequently, they have, by taking on such a dead weight, been pressed Aown, and thus have they been beaten..--1416 Ste vens, it is said, is left out by near 50 votes. His services will be missed more than any other man's in that legislature , New Lisbon (Ohio) Aurora. THE DIFFERENeE.....-Last year when • the Anti. Masons carried 'in Pennsyliania then it was echoed and re echoed as a wstp triumph. 0 yes! the good Whige;carried the day, althOugh in the half of the counties where the Anti-Masons' sticceeded . the Whigi may not have had a - ticket. Now, when the ;Whigs have went on and made a presidential nomination, county noMinatiter, dm. dm, and when the Democrat's beim beaten them Most seandalously—Oh, it's an Anti-Masonic defeat; Whigs had'ocith. fug to do with bringing about acb art eirent...„ Our Anti. Masonic friends who 'ridiculed the "seceding nine". are now reaping tint rich rewards of their labors in etßwrittra 'mina with those of whom it has been aptly sakj„ "treachery is their vacation." They mot have been aware of the,character ofr. lhus party before they agreed to go oti with consequently, they can but blatnethetr` - indpicretion for the result.--!M4. 1' toe.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers