*tat • . . -1 B y P.OISERT =LITZ =-+3T©l '.l LJzs -"With •weetrst Bowers ensirVa. From various gardens mali'd with rare_" A TRIBUTE OF GRATITUDE- How beautiful! how more than !warran' How kind, is woman in the Acura' perm. Even from despair their loving beasts amain A breath of hope—though hope perchance be wails' - Gently they pillow op the throbbing head, And fall their footsteps lightly ea the groan% Midnight beholds them at the sick one's bed, And noon still sees them to the sufferer boossiE They weary not—though weary be the task, _ They faint not by the way— tborigb frail they is, They pause not in well-doing—all they ask, Is freedom for us from infirmity: They heed not that 'heir eyes wax dins That watching pales the roses on their cheek. Strong in their deep affection they can hear, And love the vigils that have made them wok_ A MOTHER AND CHILD SLEEPING.. Night, gaze, but send no sound, Fond heart thy fondness keep, Nurse, silence, wrap. them round, Drenthe Icw, they sleep, they steep: No wind, no murmuring shower's No music soft and deep, No thought, nor dream of flowers, All's still; they sleep, they steep -0 life! 0 night! 0 time! Thus ever round them creep, From pain, from hate, from crime, E'er guard them, gentle steep! COSCOBSI&Hici - Fur the"G'ellysburgh Star 4 Republican Hanna. Our Country. Ir has been truly said that our country is a good -and enviable one—that her institutions are the construction of a superior nature—that the land is •good and fertile,and upon which has been ennoble reared the almost impregnable fabric of sweet Fere dorn—and that her progress down the limpid stream of prosperity is swift and rarely interrupted„ and when an impediment is thrown in the way of her progressive course, the giant-strength of lib city invariably extends her bountiful hand to her concomitant's relief and remedy's the evil. That our country's laws are wis' e,good and juararionsaamdl that they arc salutary in theirean, and im partial in their dealings of Justice, is a generally ennceded fact. That her established rightsznepre. eisely such as should be enjoyed by freemen, and be embraced with eagerness by a people enjoyin the sweet luxury of Liberty, is nothing to be mar velled at, for they have, in times gone by, dearly, though nobly purchased them—they have semi& cod private predilections and social pleasures in or .der to obtain them—they have bought them at the peril oeNelilives--they have fought and bled far them—the' freemen of the present day did not all this, but the disenthrallcd freemen of '76. What patriot of the present day - can look bark to that pe riod of our country's history which "tried umes soule"—that period in which the patriots of '76 fearlessly braved the approaching clouds of op. pression, quitted the scenes of theirdomestie Idea sures, attired themselves in the hataTimenta of war, and boldly and patriotically unsheathed the gleam ing steel,as an indispensable requisite to exonerate themselves of an impending grievous burden, and as they exclaimed in holy convulsions the putrinii ' Words— ' • "Thy spirit independence let me share, Lord . ..of the lion heart and eagle eye, ' Thy liter I follow with my bosom bare, Nor hea&the storm that howls the sky 'rushed Ontlia.l glorious conflict, regardless of their . they preferred death to an ignore: - servittide---with an unshaken deters.` .deem their country from thraldom or perish in the glorious effort. They providentially proved sue ,cessful, established our liberties, restored hammy and truiquillity throughout the country, and from the time our freedom was granted until the present day, our country has prospered beneath the irradi ant and -wholesome beams of sunny peace. The . patriot of the present day,when he reflects en then times„eannot refrain from ejaculating a earns prayer of gratitude to the Sages of the Revolution, and to an • all-beneficent Providence who so easentidke aided them in the acquirement of their liberties.. Our country during the lapse of fifty years has snail:Mtn degree of unexampled prosperity. Her progress - down the tide of prosperity is swift and gradually increasing, and it cannot be otherwise than a source of peculiar gratification and deli-Jilt ery citizen to contemplate her present door-J -ri.ing condition—to contrast her with the otheH . t evernments of the earth. What free citizen can s . verso her verdant fields, and restrain the over.. ' , 'Antiings of gratitude and gladness--gratinide .. , tareis the heroes of '76,in addition to the Supreme Ruler of the Universe, who aided them in their laudable undertaking--gladriess, because of her prosperous condition! None. No, every citizen can walk over and view with grateful admiration her green fields, her verdant hills, and walk dom.. the strands of her meandering rivers and film*, streams—and, in short, her beautiful and heaven - . like landscapes, with all the independence of ad.. miring freemen, without being obliged to acknowl edge obeisance or fealty to any pampered Bond or voluptuous potentate. They can rove her &Uri— traverse her lands, in a manner becoming MIC - 31AN Samos—becoming beings who have been created alike,and after death destined for the same plate. according to the deeds done in the body--4ikeica dependent citizens, who are regardless alike of the frowns and disdainfulness of the aristocratic zed flattering and ingratiating simpers of the synlitiSaata. tic. And while they live in beatified enjoyments of sweet freedom—of hallowed liberty, that , pri es less boon"—they look with revolting honor to the "land where the rigid and cruel rides of an orgar chical government are carried into fat effort where aristocracy prodominates,and commands an uncontrollable sway; where the unfintariate. tho not less worthy poor arc maintained in bonda g e and immersed in the filthy slime of ignorancr, in venality, slavery and almost stupefaction. arid a mong whom are many naturally bright lamizmne who,if cultivated by education and learning.would shine forth amid the many emblazoned rramaraa.of the world with resplendent lustre ; amt where the rich live in the luxury of the land, enjoy all the benelitemel advantages of edeeni.na, pampered upon the fat of the soil, the product of the poor mown 's wexiisome toil—and, in short, fairly steeped in the Ismaries of life and enjoying wordly pleas antes to ezerss, even to vfttu own ma; we eagerly .leokand what do we pe r &pit Do we recognize a passimerient like our era/where liberty holds and anniertod rules—where aljtnen arc protected with in the sacred precincts of her holy laws—permitted to set= they please—where justice, infallible jus tice, is dealt out impartially to all--ivhcre the opu lent and the indigent are..agreeably to their re sipectiyHe merits, alike respected and live alike com formal& and hey—and where the attainment to the Inroad inad to fame is alike susceptible to all? No. we do not. But, on the contrary, we behold a land of Despotism and Tyranny, where the arbi trany laws of aristocracy are carried into full ope ration—where apt:gm:liar grade of people arc com slairerlike, to recogniip allegiance to other inernidwals--where the mandates of one tyranni- cal man Must be attended to with the most obse vprionr. obedience, and who, as he waves his regal sceptre: tike the fairy's wand, has obeyed and con. sated unto satisfaction, like the motive that impels him to move it. We behold the poor ern rge and fawn to the rich, and oftentimes writh km in agony beneath the lash of the task-master! We we &alarm of individuals whom it has plea.. sod-Heaven to make poor, living dependents upon the rids--the proud, the arrogant rich—for the ceeniforts of fife—dubious and precarious expects ficeiu'ro?klea! They cannot be viewed in any oth er fight than that of a miserable and degraded peo plewholead a mercenary, a slavish life. And,whilo viewing all these things, do we behold a compa rison between the government of our country and the grown:mem of any of the foreign countries? 37 0 , n0..--sce do not, We behold a disparage- ment equal tonight and day—as much as between the resplendent noontide orb, and the sable cloud that loners in the firmanent amid the raging of the earthly tempest—between a lurid twinkling star sada taper which has burnt to the socket and is in a faintftickering blaze. And, finally, we will behold a people free as the snow-capped hills "rear ing their crest ofsncrw in the very presence of the regal sum" and on the opposite side they will be had a people suffering beneath the onerous yoke of Tyranny—groaning beneath the oppressive bur den of Despotism--a people living in grievous lbenarlare, „while many others,of the same clime, re pose in the indulgent lap of pleasure and luxury! Soda is the contrast between our country and the other mantic-sof tne earth—and the freeman, whale he looks on the picture, feels elated with the high repute his native country maintains in corn pavans' with all others. He feels proud of his counter, and finds thankful to Providence for hav ing endowed him with such a happy country,and blessed it with such joyous blessings. And while his tips give rent to the ejaculations of a grateful heart, and the palpitating aspirings of his patriotic bosom spook the words of thankfulness, he hum ble and earnestly prays for her future happiness and prosperity—for her perpetual progress down the worldly fefieity. Attarrical great and glorious Republic—blest and most magnanimous of all nations of the sub- henary euth—wisest and most salutary of all Go sermer your future windings down the course of increasing advancement in the scale of nations be swift and unencumbered, and may your originally contemplated destiny be carried into ful. IHherat you will become a great and pow erful country, insomuch as to attract the unwonted of other countries, and will eventually be a re deeming me in the annals of God's world. ILtrzsca4er, Doc. 6, 1836. Professions vs. Trades. Tine follenaing remarks from the Baltimore A torffiran, open a suhject that interests the whole ozornonity, are so fraught with good sense that r cannot resist the temptation to insert them, for the benefit of our readers, whose attention we would call to them:— There is a propensity on the part of per. sees who have been themselves bred to trades to bring up their children to what is termed the learned professions, and we frequently find persons who would have been highly respectable members of society, venerated and beloved in mechanical or commercial pursuits, mere hangers on of some profession for which nature never intended them, and their unfitness for which only serves to make them the objects of contempt. That thero must be lawyers, doctors, and divines, is admitted on all hands, and that those who discharge their duties in any of these rola. tires with ability, punctuality, and fidelity, be esteemed respectable, can bo as little doubted: but to think that there is any thing in the mere oame of them which can enoble meanness, or enlighten stupidity, is perfect ly alknard. A member of a profession is only to be respected in proportion to the rank that his qualification for it may assign to him, and as well nay it be supposed that the mere putting out a sign and assuming the appellation, will constitute a thorough 1 mechanic, as that the simple affixing of at. torney at law, or M. D. will metamorphose a booby into a learned lawyer or doctor There is a want ofselCrespect manifested in 'this anxiety on the part of mechanics to make professional men of their sons, which cannot command approbation. The only title to respectability, or distinction, which we recognise, is merit, and we regard the mechanic who umierstands his business well, and performs its duties faithfully, is just as much entitled to the favorable consideration land esteem of his fellow men, as a member of the mint distinguished profession. Let us look abroad into society, and ex , amine who the persons are that constitute 1 the mint useful portion of it. Are they the nominal members of the learned professions 'Lawyers without a brief, or doctors without patients! Certainly not. On the other hand, are there not those who have become profi cieso,and c..>nsequently succeseul in the pur suits which they may have selected as best suitcd to their peculiar talents? Now, our ootian is,that "honor and shame from no con dition rise," and that when our parts are well played, "there all the honor lies " It nut not be supposed that we entertain the opinion, that a man of peculiar talent and titti c.r intellectual pursuits is •not to be - "I WISH NO OTHER HERALD, NO OTHER SPEAKER OF KT LIVING ACTIONS, TO KEEP MINE HONOR FROM CORRUPTION."--SHAIIS, • ommoramtrmext. ZPQIIO j) artaxProdnre watauttatairea ato. atneo in their mode of courtship when they encounter a fair lady alone and unprotected. Trust rather to the continued importunity of your noble moth- er. The Duchess has a persuasive speech, and the King n susceptible heart. Let us return to the manor, and hope that all will yet be well." introduced into a profession,merely because his father may have exercised a mechanical calling. So far from it; . whenever such is the case, we would say, that it is the duty of the parent to fit his offspring for the hon orable discharge of the duties of the station in which he may become most useful to his fellow men. AU that we intend t 3 object to, is, that men who are entitled to respect,and receive it at the hands of all who may- be acquainted with thcm,should be so far want ing in a proper appreciation of themselves,, as to imagine that they will add to their respectability by placing their children in professions for which they have no part ice. lar turn, and in which they can never hope to be distinguished, when if inclination, or mental fitness were duly considered, they might be instructed in some one of the me• chanic arts, in which their excellence would confer upon them the highest rank. Nor are the professions so favored in profitable ness as to entitle them to the preference to which we have alluded. It is true that it looks wonderfully well for a doctor to get his fee for a prescription, or n lawyer to be well paid for a speech, but this is only one side of the picture. Let us for a moment think of the exposure of health, and loss of rest which the physician undergoes, who has a hill practice; let us reflect upon the hours spent by the lawyer over his books, during the hours when all the world is asleep, and the consequent destruction of health, and then let us say on which side the profit lies, when all is taken into consideration. Com pared with these, wt i tshould . say, the tran quil mind and quiet' nights of the mechanic, are infinitely preferable, whilst on the score of utility, the comparison is not less in his favor. The Wooing at Grafton. IT was one of those fresh and balmy summer evenings which sometimes succeed a day of scarce ly endurable sultriness. The breathless stillness and heat of noon had given place to a refreshing breeze which rippled the waves of the Ouse, and stirred the countless leaves . of the forest, through which the river meandered. The sun was setting in unclouded magnificence; and although his rays had greatly declined in intensity and strength, they had lost nothing of their splendour and their brightness. The birds, whose floods of melOdy appeared to have been dried up during the day, now poured forth a tide of song so full and resist less, that it seemed as if they intended during the short interval previous to the hour of roosting, to make atnends for the silence of so many hours. A lady of a stately figure, and features of ex quisite beauty, was walking on the banks of the river. She Was followed by a female attendant, and led by the hand a youth who seemed about nine or ten years of ago. She was tall and finely formed; her eyes were large, black, and bright; her ringlets, which were as black and al most as bright,fell down to her shoulders; her com plexion was exquisitely fair, approaching even to paleness. She seemed to have scarcely attained her twentieth year; but the tears which streamed down her cheeks, the melancholy expression of her eye, especial! en it glanced on the strip ling by her side, e widow's weeds in which, she was apparel' ; too plainly told that, young as she was, sorrow had outstripped time, and pre mature clouds had darkened the morning of her days. "Adelaide," she said, addressing her attendant, "see'st thou yonder alder-tree, how it gleams and brightens in the rays of the sun? but that sun is setting; into those crimson clouds beneath him, that look like a sanguinary sea, he will shortly sink, and then the tree which now gleams and brightens will be surrounded with desolation and datknem" .41ut,to-morrow,Madam—," said the attendant. "Talk not of the morrow to me," interrupted the lady to me, on whose darkened fortunes no mor row shall ever, dawn. Alas! like yonder tree I flourished; brightness was on my head and around my path; but the sun that shone upon me has set, has set in a sea of blood." "Sweet lady!" said Adelaide, "but I will talc to thee of the morrow, for a morrow of joy and gladness shall dawn upon thee yet: King Edward is gallant and generous; and although Sir John Gray fell fighting the battles of the Red Rose, ho will not visit on the widow and orphans the trans gressions of the husband and the father." "Alas! Adelaide, only this day have I received a letter from my noble mother, who informs me that all her importunities have been in vain. The King has been besieged by her in his palace at Westminster more unremittingly than over ho was by CHITord or Northumberland, Or the most zeal ous Lancastrian, when shut up in some iron for tress which constituted his only territory.. The ruthless Richard Plantagenet, he whom thei now call the Duke of Gloucester, stands between him and every generous disposition of his heart. - The Lancastrians are devoted to the slaughter, and the crime of my dead lord, in gallantly supporting to his latest gasp the cause of his lawful sovereign, ' can only be expiated by the beggary of his widow and his orphans." "Would that the gallant King," said Adelaide, "could but once behold that fair face wet with tears, and know that a single word from his lips would suffice to dry them! methinks that the forfeited estates of your husband would then be soon rester- ed to you." "And in truth, gentle Adelaide," said the . Lady Gray, "a wild hope that perchance in the course of the chase, which he is to-day following in this neighbourhood, I might come in contact with him, and have an opportunity of falling at his feet arid pleading my cause in person, has lured me from Grafton Manor, and kept mo wandering by the river-side till the hour of sunset." “The dews of evening are descending, Madam, and the chase is over. Let us' return, lest we be intruded upon by some of the wild gallants in King Edward's train, who are not very scrupulous . The lady turned round to retrace her steps, in compliance with the advice of her attendant, when she found herself suddenly seized in the grasp of a man who had followed her unperceived, and who now, with very little ceremony, proceeded to over whelm her with his embraces. • The author of this outrage was by no means one whose personal attractions could render the violence which ho committed less unpalatable.— He was a short and meagre figure, humpbacked, with iega-of an unequal size, and teeth, or rather tilngi; which protruded from his mouth, and gave an hideous expression to his face, which otherwise might have possibly been called handsome. His forehead was high and fair, his eyes black and sparkling, and his broad arched brows gave an ex pression of intelligence and dignity to the upper Part of big countenance which strangely contras ted with Jibe grotesqueness and deformity of his ligtire. Ile was very richly hnbited in a robe of blue velvet, lined with silk, and glittering with gold—a sword hung by his side, and a cap, adorn cd *Wit a plume of feathers, and n sparkling dia mond in the front, was placed in rather a fantastic and foppish manner upon his head. Thelody shrieked fearfully when she found henndf in the arms of this hideous being. "Si lence, adtun,silence," he said, "or," and he touch ed hip dagger, while a cloud as black as midnight gathered on his brow, which, however, instantly gave Vince to n smile of even bewitching sweet ness.. "Pardon, pardon," ho added, "that one used to war and strife should begin with menaces, even when addressing so fair a creature as thou art!" "Unhand me, monster!" said the Lady Gray. "Sweet. lady," he said, "you must unheart me . "Desist!" said a "voice behind them, "or, by Heziveul your heart shall rue the boldness of your hand." . With these words, a young man habited in TAn- Coln green, with a bow and quiver slung over his shoulders, and bearing a drawn sword in his hand, rushed upon the lady's assailant, Ho paused,how ever, as his eye encountered that of this missha pen being—whether it was that he recognized a face familiar to him, or that he felt an emotion of surprise at the hideousness of the creature which he beheld, was not apparent. The latter eyed him with a sullen and malignant smile, and then utter ing a loud and discordant laugh,disuppeared amidst the recesses of the forest. The lady had sunk on the ground exhausted and sLupilied with terror. lier deliverer hastened to raise her up; while the boy, whose bosom heav ed with sobs, caught her hand, and covered it with his ki4ses; and Adelaide sprinkled her pallid and (kith-like .features with water from the river.— Wheti she once more opened her eyes, they rested upon a being very dissimilar from him in whose arms she had last found herself. The perfect grace and - symmetry of his form was only equalled by the sweetness and noble expression of his features, utl k lich, save that the curl of his lip, and the proud : his eye, indicated something of a haugh ty and imperious temperament, approached as nearly as possible to the beau ideal of manly beau ty. The simplicity and modesty of his dress were, as strikingly opposed to the gorgeous apparel, as were his graces of form and feature to the ghastli ness and deformity of his late opponent. eThanks, gentle Sir!" said the lady Gray— "thanks for thy timely aid!" eNo thanks are due to me, sweet lady; but to thy fair self I owe unbounded thanks for an op portunity of gazing on so much loveliness. Yet must I be a petitioner for a farther favour—permis sion to escort you home." The lady accepted with gratitude the service which was proffered as a boon; and giving her hand to the graceful cavalier, she proceeded under his escort homewards, attended by the stripling and Adelaide. During this short journey, sho had an opportunity of discovering that the elegant and accomplished form of her deliverer was but the mirror of his relined and cultivated mind. The wit, vivacity, knowledge of men and manners, originality of thought, and courteous and chival rous demeanour which he evinced, were such that, if they did not positively win the heart of the Lady Gray before this their first interview terminated, they certainly laid the foundation of passion which ) , as the reader will subsequently learn, ex ercised a powerful influence over the destinies of both. "And now, gentle Sir," said the lady, as they arrived at her residence, "welcome to 'Grafton Manor. Will you please to enter?" "Not now, sweet Madam!" answered the caval ier: "lam in the King's train, and my,services will he missed. Yet may I crave leave to call to-morrow, and inquire after the health of —" He paused; but the tally soon concluded his sentence. "Of the Lady Gray of Groby," she said extend ing her hand to him. "Ha!" he said, and started, while a dark frown lowered for a moment over hie fine features, ""the widow of the Lancastrian knight who fell at St. Alban's." - °Even that ill-starred woman," said the Lady Gray, while the tears streamed down her features. —uFarewell! farewell! I see that it is a name which is now unpleasing to all ears." "Nay, nay, sweet Madam," said the youth, gent ly detaining her, "it is a name which friends and foes ought alike to honour as identified with man ly and heroic devotion to a falling cause, and—" his voice faultered as he added,_ in a softer tone, "with the perfection of female grace and loveli ness. You have been a suppliant to the King, Madam, for the restoration of your dead Lord's forfeited estates!" "I have been," she replied, "and a most unhap py and unsuccessful one." "The King, Madam, is surrounded by mon who entertain small love for the unhappy adherents of the House of Lancaster. I have the honour to serve his Highness. If Edward March, his poor Esquire, can advance the cause of the Lady Gray, small as_may bo his abilities to do her good, they shall be all devoted to her service." “Thanks!---once more a thousand thanks, ge nerous Sir!" said the lady. "The cause of Eliza beth Gray indeed needs all the efforts of her Mends to insure for it a prosperous issue. If Master Ed- ward March can do aught to serve it, the blessing of the widow and the fatherless will rest upon his "And the blessing of the widow," thought Mas ter Edward March, after he had taken kayo of the lady. and ivrat retracing his steps to the river bide, i "will be the blessing of the prettiest woman in Eng land. That of the fatherless I could e'en dispense with; yet, methinks, it is well that they are erless, Heaven rest their father's soul!" This short interview caused a strange disturb ance in the heart of Elizabeth Gray. The interests of her orphan children, and anxiety to obtain for them the restitution of their father's forfeited prop erty, had for a long time occupied her mind ex elusively. Now a new feeling, she would not venture to call it • passion, seemed at least to mingle with, if not to absorb, all other considera tions. Yet even this came disguised in the garb of her children's interests, who. she now felt more than ever, stool much in need of a protector to supply the place of their deceased parent. The mother of the Lady Gray was Jaqueline of Lux embourg, the Dowager. Duchess of Bedford, who hail, after the death of her husband, so far sacrifi ced her ambition to loce,that she e,spoused in second marriage Sir Richard IVoodville, a private gentle man, to whom she bore several children; and amongst the rest Elizabeth, who was remarkable for the grace and beauty of her person, as well as for other amiable accomplishments. This young lady had married Sir John Gray of Groby, by whom she had two sons; and her husband being slain in the second battle of St. Alban's, fighting on the side of Lancaster, and his estate being for that reason confiscated, his widow hail retired to live with her mother at her seat of Grafton, in Northamptonshire. The Duchess herself resided principally in London, as well for the purpose of leaving her daughter as much as possible in con. plete possession of Grafton Court, as to afford the Duchess, by her vicinity to the palace, opportuni ties for pressing upon the King the propriety of restoring to the widow of Sir John Gray the for estates of her husband. These solicitations, howev . er,hrul as yet been unavailing, and she, was in daily expectation of hearing that the estates, which' formed the subject of them, had been be stowed upon some adherent of the House of York. Such was the posture of her affairs when the Laity Gray became acquainted with Edward March in the manner which we have narrated. The young esquire called on her the next day,and their second interview confirmed in the bosoms of both the passion which had been excited by the first. March, in addition to his personal attractions, ex pressed so much anxiety for the interests of the lady and her children, and such a determination, as soon as King returned to London and was at leisure to attend to business, to press the fiir widow's suit upon his attcntion,that the surrender which the lady made of her heart seemed to her to be no less a matter of policy than affection.-- The youth' was not slow in perceiving the impres sion which he had made on the susceptible bosom of Elizabeth; and one day when the parties had scarcely been acquainted a month,he took,lik• O thello, "a pliant hour," poured into the lady's lis tening, and not offended ear, a confession of hiis passion,and made an offer of his band and heart. giAlas! good Master March," said she, "thou talkest idly. What hopes can a poor Esquire and the portionless widow of Sir John Gray balm of future happiness, by writing their forlorn fortunes together?" have a sword,Madrun,which has already done good service, and which, I doubt not, will, on the next field in which it is bnindis'lted,win for me the badge of knighthood." "Or the grave of an esquire!" said the lady mournfully. "But, Madam, trust to my persuasions, and the King's goodness of heart for the restoration of your children's inheritance. Will you make your promise of sealing my happiness conditional upon that restoration?" The youth's eye flashed fire as he put this flues. tion to the lady. Her color came and went—her bosom rose and fell quickly; her heart beat within it tumultuously,and her while frame trembled like the aspen tree, as she paused a few moments be fore she answered this question; and then sinking -into his arms, exclaimed, '4 will, I will! dearest Edward, I am wholly thine!" d , Now Heaven's richest blessing fall upon that fair head!" he said, imprinting a fervent kiss on her forehead. "The King departs for London on the morrow,and I must follow in his train. Trust me, sweet Elizabeth, that thy suit shall not want the advocacy of any eloquence which I may pos sess: and I hope that when I next meet thee, it will be to clasp thee to my bosom as my bride. 7 [CONCLVNION IN ova HILT.] There's no Place like. Home. And what is . looms! It is the resting-place of the heart—the centre ofaffections. If in early rife our destiny compels us to leave the paternal roof; how does the heart yearn for soma when little sor rows arise. Then the imagination picture* the' intnwitthising countenance of a dear mother; and iVOlong to braiibokind voice of our father saying "child, be eoutf ited.'' Though friends may pity and endeavor to soothe us, there is no consolation like that which is known in the sympathy of those who compose that dear circle, ova WAMILT. And in the hour of youthful glee, one half of our en joyment is lost if not participated by those dear ones who cluster around the family board and hearth. No music is half so sweet as the voice of parents, or brothers and sisters, speaking in the terms of deep affection. In manhood,too,wben we have long left the home of our childhood,and wan dered, many a weary day, our thoughts often turn to that sweet spot. Then we long coca more to hear the kind counsel of a dear mother or a belov ed father,or the soothing voice of one loved even as our own life. When the waves of affliction roll over us, we long for the rest of home,and feel that there is no other place on earth where we nn find that rest which the weary ones enjoy there- If suc cess crown the plans of our life—if we rise to em inencein public esteem and grow rich in honor—lf we arc hailed with applause among our associates,. , there is a kind of satisfiiction in it; but the hoot, even when we are honored and applauded, will, in its loneliness,long for some dear ones to share the honor and the joy. And here,again,the heart turns to home as its resting place,even in its joyfulness. The longest life does not destroy the love of home. It seems even to increase with length of years; and homes becomes doubly the resting place of him who hasiong walked the weary way 441%. But there are times when we are not perfectly hap .; y even in our homes—when the soul will not feel at rest even there. There are sorrows which no earthly friend has power to alleviate- But is there - no msting place for their souls? Is there no "VOL. 7--NO. as., Anse elate fie the inimattal spirit! Is thee no being what power and sympralty ten melee 'it perfect and happy, Does not a voice within es tn. sear, "thereAtld do we not tern from the a bodes of men, ere= from the homes of earthly Section, and look to heaven es the bane of our souls± and to God *rube Father of our spirits! lt is gm we find that perfect rest which is known only to the chid of God. If there is joy. to the poor wanderer whetkalter long yeas of absetree,he returns to the home of dilate:D(o,mi is welearitl by the dear ones thae—if there is conrOlettion, in the kind tams of affection, there is real it Purer, hofier joy fait by the trestle' s one, who tunas 'min all earthly things to hie God, and relies with hai l& confidence on Him for parteetiond :seta the return of the sonl,aller baring gone far asteay in the ways of an, to the bosom of our Ifeaverdy Farther—end happy the hoar of forgiveness to the returning one! How beautiful and to the subject are the follow ing finer, copied from the .../Luarthyst,or christlie Annear— KOZOCIO. 0, there are scenes &ripely fair, fYenpread with smiles of beauty rare., And spots of splendid glory where Our steps in gladness rosin. • We're thought Granny a palace grand, We're &Tamed of many a happy strand, Bot, ah! thefre nothing to the land Where mammy natal home! 'Tis this that cheers the sailor's soul, While tempests wildly round him howl, lightning dints from pale to pole, And guilds the raging foam. In dreams be seer his bathe fire-aide. Before his eyes sweet phantoms glide, Of those he left beyond the tide, • Where males his rustic home- _ Though placed in distant deserts wild, Anita the storm the hardy child. Though healthy hills we round it piled And lowly be the dome: • Though poverty him dwelling there. And not a seem is Mud or fair. We cherkh will with miser cur. Our own bekmed borne.. Around oar hearts are there entwin e d, The fairest, sweetest Bowan we fin& With mystic &miss of lace to bind The bents of those who roam. 0 yes! a magic band is there, Though viewless as a fleeting sir, . Which hinds ow hearts in union fair, Within our hallowed llama. Bat aid the future o'er it dies. And all its cheridred beauty dial, - While wept in min daddy lies, The once beloved dorm : Our fathers gone, our soothers dead. Our friends and lowers lowly laid Within the games dole lonely bed, Barre lea np hippy home. Stdthrees a better bud on high; Where arum ofelory never die, Lae those beiteath life's dandy sky, - In which oar steps shall mug • When tizne,, with all her dreams, is past, And death has spent his withering blast, O sweeter, fir! in Hessen at hut -We'll find an endless hone! Ramming must Bonzarzsar—lt is very eommort to hear persons who rue camel in active rxmcertne of life, express a dein to become speedily rich, so that they may retire from business This appears" almost univemally to be the object of the business man's tat But we venture to may that mno res pect were people ever more generally deluded than in this. They expect to fmd nothing buthappinesi upon leaving what they have been accustomed to regard as the harms:lig cares of business—they actually find nothing but. misery. In nine cases out of ten the man who tag retired from business and laid aside his active habit'. finds cane daily to regret the steit he has taken, and to wish him self back again. Happiness is not to be found in idkriess, but in a faillifut discharge of the active duties of fife- Man was not intended as an idle being and it was a wiaeonlimusce that by the sweat of his bum he ihoukl cat bread. The necessity of . activity and labor imposed upon the human race tends to the promotion of virtue and of Substantial enjoyment. It is a tine remark of Miss Sedgwick that “one cannot be very unhappy while there is enough to do." PRACTICAL Rimessn.—One of the most impsni ores practical sarcasms ever made use of, was that of the late Rev. Robert Hall, addressed to a clergy man who had obtained a lucrative living after a change of religious opinions. Mr. Hall premed him bard upon the guestinn of Church reform,— The gentleman's ,aslant maw: to the argu ments addressed to him was, .4 can't see it," «1 don't see it," can't see that at O." At last Mr. Hall took a letter EMIR his pocket, and wrote on the beck of it with a pencil, in small letters. the word "God." "Do you see that!" «Yes." He then covered it with a piece of gold. «Do you see it now!" ..Na." «I must wish you good morning, sir," said Hall, and left him to his medttations. Ratrvs.,--Recent. orporummts have aspilained certain' coriditio . ns old& dual, and sherrna them to denote important evidences with regard to the health tithe body. Haw Emery leant base the wives of drunkards shed in the United States since 1790, supposing the average number oltdinaken husbands to hare been in each year, 15,0001 Answer-,--Enowsk fir fleet the United Slates Nary_ Rarer, Ar Manderem—Gerrernor Ititoor of Pennsylvania, bat oared a reward al $lOO, if cowed in hiontranerr candy, sad $2OO, if caught oat of it, for - the agprehrstsiOn at Patikk Money sad Joba Seel, who anudeted ISMS McLaughlin, on the night ado 15th October, in esid county. Patti* Nanny, is abosgs fart 4 as 5 inches high, well set, bile hair, and • MI net al areal; maid is shout 28 or 30 years stage. John Kid is shout 5 fret 10 or 11 inches high, downcast loch, snore white in his eyes than contaiiiq about 22 Or 24, years of age, Emir hair- A &Caw wbo lately hang bawl( hi s thawlent in New Yolk Mk the Stilaaning mitten *pie dN welb-:-..l4►'t title hates than lobe ring •Istyr
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers