Q2111 1 L4 Lt It I ILIIVABI . A aaimace Z.0311P. 1 1' WRITE unDnLrzfrox.] THE GARLAND. „ 0 4 , :„ , —"With sweetest flowers enrich'd, From various gardens cull'd with care." FOR THE oerrysttuao STAR AND BANNER THE] SABBATH SCHOOL TEACHERS. lIIt MIRE. INDIA JANE PEIRSON Wno are these? a peaceful band, Meekly moving through the laud; With hand unwearied, foot untied, And heart with humble fervour fled; With heavenward eye, and placid cheek, Where no resentment dares to speak, Even when derided and reviled, Or met by passions fierce and wild. And when from falsehood's burning lips The cankering stream of malice drips, Although the heart may writhe with pain, It sends a blessing back again; And anger lives not in the eye Though on its lid the tear drops lie. Patiently they trace the road To penury's obscure abode, And seek for precious treasures in The vile and loathsome haunts of sin. Who are these so mild and meek? What rich treasures do they seek? Are they in quest of high renown? Or would they won a regal crown? Or do they seek the airy buys That float uncle the poet's lays? Or is gold, or worldly gain For which they feel contempt, and pain Ah ! these are worthless in their eyes„ They seek a nobler, holier prize. They arc followers of Him Whose eyes with tears were often dim, As o'er life's togged ways ho eross'd Intent to seek, and save the lost. They seek the young ?bimodal mind, The 'uncultured germs of human kind ; The precious gems whose radiant light Lies hid in ignorance's friged night. • They seek the wretched widow's sons, The untaught laborer's little ones; The loathesome drunkard's wretched child Whose haggard brow, and features wild. And shrinking form, and timid aye, Betrays wild fear, and misery. Whose tatter'd garb, and naked feet, As stealthily it tracks the street, Betray the parent's sin and shame, And stamp it on the poor child's name. Of all the black and baleful clouds That wrap life's morn in mourning shrouds, Tho parent of inebriate thirst Entails upon his child the'worst. For though its guileless bosom feel The keen contempt like barbed steel; Though it resolve to shun the fire That tortures the infuriate sire; Though Genius' germs are in tho mind, And the young nature warm and kind; Though oft the little bosom ache As if the swelling heart would break; Still, still, in visitation dread Upon tho drooping helpless head, In scorn, contempt, derision, lies Tho burden of iniquities. Some who have hearts to feel for grief, Whose bands arc prompt to give relief, Pass such as vile, polluted things Who merit all their sufferings; While happy children, from their play Will drive the ragged one away. And if in after life their name Ring from the brazen trump of Fame, Detraction in her hissing tone Will answer, Ahl The drunkard's son! • Ye who are bartering all for drink Pause I beseech you' l'ause and think, Look at your child, and think how deep The guilt for which you ought to weep. Its heart is crush'd, Its name is soiled, It is that drunken-----child. Its freeborn spirit is bent down, Dcbas'd by thine unnatural frown; Like guilty slave it walks the streets, Shunning the eyes of all its meets; Black guilt pollutes its tender years, Profanity is in its cars; Its face is pale for lack of bread, And hopeless tears its young eyes shed. Alas! for such, the orphan state Wore better than their cruel tato. These the kind friends of Mercy seek, With hand so strong, and heart so meek, To lead them from their native night Into the dawn of science's light. To place their little timid feet Within her gate, where brightly meet The toilsome paths, so steep, and bright, So glorious to young Genius' sight; Which lead to Wisdom's reverend mount, To Poesy's enchanted fount, To glorious Fame's resplendent gate, And all that life has rich or great. To point them to the narrow road That leads the humble soul to God; To teach the spirit how to trace The path of happiness and peace. Fondly the infant soul to bear Upon the breast of ardent pray'r. To Him who bide the littio/e Como fearlessly beforrkir throne. And ask the grace which freely given Sheds o'er the earth the light of heaven; Enabling e'en the drunkard's child To bear its lot with spirit mild. And then revil'd with words profane Give no reviling word again, But cheerfully obedient still Seek to perform a parent's will;' Touching the heart of all who see Such patience, and humility; • And Imply from destruction's road Winning a parent back to God. Who aro these, again I ask, Who thus perform this blessed task? Tie toil, the burden, lies on those Who leave the bosom of repose, While early morning in the East Proclaims the holy day of rest ; Whose rich instructions gently given, ) F rill pito llta balmy dews or heaven, Which come with still, but life fraught pow'r, Waking to bloom each embryo tlow'r. The laurel wreath, and voice of fame, Confer no honors on their name. No shining coin their toil repays Nor wear they yet poetic bays. It is enough (or thcm to know They follow Jesus' steps below; And they receive a rich reward In the approval of the Lord, And the bright hope that many a soul Will ever bless the Sabbath School. LIBRIITY, Tioga County, Pa. tik3ll.B {2.2ll':iJe.-laUClal`a. Elwin TILE VIRGINIA FREE PRESS TO TCY VIOTIECR. Nanne jussus est flirts amore mairem? Where yet the native forest-son• lloams the (lark wood and verdant lawn. Where now the rays of autumn noon Cast forth their melancholy dawn: Ti's there an age-worn mother dwells Whose locks are silver'd o'er with aare; There. too, her tender bosom swells— From there ascends her watchful prarr. Hut where's that Sorc she once caresed— Beyond the azure mountain's verge, With orient step so far he's ptesett Ilis home lies near the sea's gray surge. Still yet his nightly pray'rs ascend Up to the seraph's mercy-seat— That, when the dreams of time shall end, In Heaven may son and mother meet. Mourtifithindeed,is the retrospect of child hood's employment, youtlifal simplicity and Innocence. Rut yesterday, my bosom glow ed in the tender embraces of a youthful mother—my greatest care was her comfort and her happiness—to attain these I could have refused no earthly sacrifice. Then I was a stranger to the world's practical move ments—my home friends, my scl•ool-fellows and college mates constituted the bourn of my acquaintance—these I found candid,hon est and liberal, suspecting no evil and in flicting none. But to day, how changed is the scene!— ! am severed from the presence and the smiles of a tender and devoted mother—my home almost on the sandy verge of the salt Atlantic, whilst hers is beyond the region where rolls the Mississippi—far, over moun tains, forests and prairies, toward the Paci fic's beach. Beside, lam thrown a lone ad- venturer on the bosom of a cold, cold world —those tender youthful feelings which swell ed my bosom once have mouldered down to nonentity, or vanished into forgetfulness be fore the frigid blast of the world's ingratitude; they .dwell with "things that were." Man —ingratum hominen! whom once I suppos ed to possess the same uncontaminated feel ings with myself, I am now, tho' painfully and reluctantly, forced to regard as a more fearful enemy than the sanguinary beast of the forest, the poisonous reptile that lurks in concealment, or the angry elements that howl around me. And those principles of philosophy, which once smiled with such theoretic beauty, have proved themselves to be,pmctically,vain and hollow as the "sound ing brass or the tinkling cymbal." How melancholy then, is it, under these changes and these reflections, to retrace the paths of boyhood and the period of maternal caret Those silver days have vanished and those golden moments are "with years be yond the flood." The quick and steady step of that tender Mother,whose vital spark soon must associate with spirits beyond the dark and silent sepulchre, now is changed to a slow and tremulous motion—her brownish) ringlets are varnished o'er with silvery' whiteness—her eye which once beamed like the major member of n bright constellation, now faintly radiates ns a. dim exhalation in the evening—her damask cheek which glowed like the vegetation of a vernal morn, assumes the mournful aspect of verdure's decline in autumn—all is "passing away" as the vesper's keel, and soon will her relic "sleep in the dull cold marble.". Many degrees of longitude separate me from this dear mother, yet the pillow never witnesses my slumber but it first attests my prayer to Heaven for her—long may she _ _ live; and when the cold mintst-r or death shall come to summon her away, may her last respiration be—" Farewell vain world, I'm going home." Her affectionate Son, ISAAC. Charlestown, Va., Oct. 1838. •Indian warrior FROM TIIE I , II.IMISIIICK vistrria. Union Prayer Meeting,. A prayer meeting has lately been estab- lished in the city of Frederick, in which German Reformed, Lutherans, Methodists Episcopalians, and Presbyterians have bro ken down "the middle wall of partion" that separates them, and, in the ssme house, bow down the knee together, and lift up their voices as one voice, and their hearts asone heart to one God and Father, through the merits and intercessions of one Lord and Saviour, and by the influence and assistance of one HolrSpirit for blessings upon their souls. Aye, and we believe that their ob ject and atm is ONE. They have "agreed together" to wrestle, like Jacob of old, until God shall graciously revive his work; not in any one, but in all the congregrations in town, until He shall "rend the heavens and come down," and make such a display of his power and grace as has never been witnes sed in this part of the country. Ail the Protestant Ministers in town have entered into the matter with a good understanding, n cordiality, a warmth and ardor which we would fain hope is the precursor of success. Tho people, too, seem to unite heart and hand with us. Our meetings are held alter nately in the several Protestant churches in town, on Saturday evening, and have thus far, considering the excitement that prevails in the political world, been unusually well attended and exceedingly interesting. The "I WISH NO OTHER HERALD,NO OTHER SPEAKER OF FA LIVING ACTIONS', TO KEEP MINE HONOR FROM CORRUPTION. --snAKe 62 . 221raa2Paefat o zpgcto tiluPraamealr e caobziamt-V3,-aaaac, It was past midnight, and yet she came not, and he was still by the side of his mug• dered brother—murdered in sport l Gods, what a thought ! At length, as morning drew nigh, be heard a faint rustling of a robe, and a hand feeling for the latch of the door with nervous excitement. Ho turned, and his sister entered, wild and disordered, exclaiming "Lost ! lost !—all is lost !" She was about sixteen years of age, with features more of the Grecian mould than Roman. As she entered, her golden locks streamed over her oars, and fell down on her back, disclosing a high transparent brow, as deadly pale as sculptured marble; the tears streamed down from her large hazle eyes, like melted diamonds, beneath which the finger of grief had drawn a dark streak, that gave her lovely face the melon• choly shade of despair. She wrung her hands with emotions of bitter anguish, and prayed for death to release her from the knowledge of her shame. At that instant, her eyes rested on the corpse of her brother, and she raised her finger towards him, as if she would inquire the means of such a sight,and stood motion. less in silence. Her features gradually re laxed from their expression, and settled into a stony calmness—the hand dropped careless at her side, and she burst into an idiot laugh, and sank down on the floor. Soon she sprung upon her feet, and bounded thro' the door, and vanished from his sight, and pro bably died a raving maniac, as ho never heard from her more. Scarcely had she departed, when a friend of Maternus entered, and informed him that his sister had been seized by a pander of the tyrant and dragged through a secret avenue into the imperial chambers of the palace. The horrible truth flushed upon his mind that the arch tyrant had added violation to murder, and he beheld himself the only sur vivor of the family, for the father and moth• er had perished six months before in their endeavors to preserve their child from the imperial grasp. She had now fallen and he was alone ! As he pondered over these things, he felt the raging fires of deep smothered von. gemice kindling afresh, and bursting forth from the dark caverns of his soul. His broad chest began to lieave like an undulat ing sea, his hand instinctively grasped the hilt of his dagger, and his eyes flashed liv ing fire—his cheeks seemed to swell with the laboring impulse of his panting sides, while the full round veins rose up and laced his blazing brow like blue trellis work on a globe of fire. "Is not the time at hand," ho muttered, as he rose upon his feet, and stood in majes ty, like a distended lion at bay. NM ho stood, drawn up it' this feaiful attitude ! ono churches have generally been pretty well crowded. The exercises are singing, pray er and reading a portion of God's word, with several short, practical, pungent ex• i hortations, and are not continued above an hour and a half. The minister, in whose church the meeting is held, leads. We do beheve, and hope, and expect, and pray, that glorious results may follow. 0 Lord Jesus, thou great [lead of thy Church and Shepherd and Bishop of souls, who didst pray—" That they all may be one; as thou Father, art in me, and I in Thee;— that they may be one in us; THAT THE WOULD MAY RELIEVE THAT THOU HAST SENT ME, " most mercifully grant, that we may be one in heart, love, faith, prayer, and effort, for the salvation of immortal souls ! THOM THE NEW YORE WHIG illatermis, the Roman Bandit A SKETCH. Materials, a Roman of obscure origin, and a private soldier, with abilities far above his station, deserted the ranks of the army and proclaimed himself chief of a band of outlaws and robbers, whom he had collect.ql among the numerous fugitives thaterva• dad the provinces. The rich cities 41 . Gaul and Spain he pluneiered with impunity—and in the midst of his ravages, he inducid the slaves to join him, by offering them the in• estimable boon of freedom. He set open the prison doors also, and gave the convicts liberty, upon condition that they would join Ins standard against the corrupt minions of a Roman tyrant.. With this-army he had collected together the riches of a prince, and his career seemed to bid defiance to the provincial governors, who were either pow erless beneath. his away, or paitners and abettors to his crimes. He lay encamped on the eastern frontier of Gaul, in a large open plain, and had himself retired to the innermost recess of his tent. There he reclined on his pallet, and gave himself up to deep musings and reflections on the vicissitudes of fortune. He recalled to mind the many scenes of vio fence and bloodshed he had witnessed in the midst of the rank stream and hot belching of the imperial city. He remembered the horrid massacres of Senators and nobles on that fatal morn which succeeded the night in which the tyrant turned aside the assas sin's knife, and triumphed over an arm nerved with the virtuous impulse of the first Brutus. lie thought upon the butcheries of the amphitheatre; the blood-stained arena, smoking with the gore of dying gladiators, and reeking up to heaven like a grateful sacrifice. He recollected the fall of his only brother by an arrow from the royal murderer, who to add to the sports of the ring, let fly a wanton shaft among aie spectators. As it quivered in his heart, lie fell dead into his arms, amid the loud laugh of a brutal populace. Ho shouldered the warm corpse and staggered home with the burthen, and there sat watching the body in moady loneliness, waiting the return of 1 his only sister Marcia, whose unaccounta b!e absence and prolonged stay added much to his painful solicitude. of his favorite followers entered the tent, and informed him that ho had learned from the spies whom he had sent out, that they were encompassed on every side with the Roman legions; that it was impossible to Ay, and further, that the provincial govern• ors had made a host} levy of citizens, who were already on the march to join the im• perial standard. "I cannot die yet," said the intrepid Ma ternus, as lie turned and gazed on the favor ite with ti wild stare. ''Summon the coun cil—there is no time to be lost—we must strike a blow at the head of the imperial city'!" As soon as the council was convened, he proposed—as there was no hope of success in standing on the defensive—that the army should immediately break up and separate int.) small parties, and under vtrioua disgui ses penetrate the mor - secret passes of the .Alps, and meet at Rome on the evening of the festival of Cybele, beneath the temple of Jupiter. This measure was instantly agreed upon by all present, except Verus, who suggested that they lay down their arms at the feet of the Roman general, and ety , ma to the mercy of the senate, as it was in vain to contend further. When Mater nua heard from the lips of Verus these hu• indicting sentiments, he looked thunder struck, and drew his hand across his fore. head, then cast his eyes down his sides like one unconscious of his own identity. At length he slowly raised his head and breath. ed out, With gasping utterance and faltering accent— "By all the gods ! thou talkest as if we had a senate, and Marcus, the father of the Roman people, were still on the throne, and not the blood-stained and ferocious mon ster, Commodus I "Go, end proclaim to the soldiers, that all are free to depart, and seek their safety by a timely submission; but as for Mater nus, ho seeks the imperial palace! "What, shall the tyrant still feast on the groans of orphans, and revel amid the shrieks of violation, whilst blood pours down the streets like water, and no arm raised to stay its - progress? "Shall the wild beasts of the arena have perpetual holiday in devouring Roman fa thers and Roman Mothers? Must parents live only to see their daughters thrust into the seraglio, and their sons, in blooming youth, the horrible victims of insane lust? . _ Go go I—lot all go and submit I "But Maternus seeks the Emperor Corn modus, to try the strength of a single arm." During the deliberations in the tent, the tidings of the approaching legions had been communicated to the soldiers without, who were now gathered around the tent, and as Mater*closed his speech, shouted a loud— ,-Di6wn with the tyrant, and up with Ma ternus—Maternus shall be Emperor I" They immediately broke up the council. and arranged the enterprise agreeably to the first suggestion, and an hour after sun set they were divided into small parties and on their way towards Rome. Verus sub• mitted in sullen silence and undisguised fear. Fifteen days from that memorable eve just named, riot and tumult reigned with unbridled license in the streets of Rome. It was the festival of Cybele. A hundred lions had been let loose from the dens of the amphitheatre; a hundred arrows from the imperial archer laid them dead in the arena. Every tongue was busy. with the exploits of the son of Marcus, and amidst the general revelry the impurpled monster seemed to be forgotten. Bonefires blazoned on the seven bills, and shed the broad light of noonday over the eternal city, when the followers of Mater nus filled the streets of Rome. The val- iant leader hastened on towards the temple of Jupiter, and to his surprise he discovered un armed band of praetorians gathering there. He know that he had been betray ed, and he turned on his heel and sought the palace. All was confusion; the guards of the palace had revolted under their prm. torian perfect, and the gates wore thrown open. He ascended the corridor, and paced the long halls amid flying domestics, until he fuund himself at the door of the imperial bed-chamber. Here in a transverse direc- tion, he met Verus, who seemed to be un conscious of the revolt, as ho exclaimed "Now for the reward!" and buried his dag ger in the breast of Maternus. Ho stag gered and fell as the doors flew open, and beheld his sister Marcia approaching. When she saw him, she uttered ono wild shrink, and felt upon his hying body, say• ing, "the tyrant is dead I. we are revenged!" CIIILDHOOT.—Tho following sound thoughts, beautifully expressed, the sports and influences of happy childhood, are from the "Bachelors Death Bed," in a late number of the Southern Literary Messenger: 'The hulmy breath of spring was laden with their perfume, and groups of children were sporting under their shade, like cher ubs in the garden of innocence. "Since the harp of the shepherd king was removed to heaven, man has found no music like the laugh of childhood, to calm the whirl winds of the soul. Its silvery echoes break upon us amid the clouds of life, and we almost fancy a voice above us saying "come up hither." Its world is, indeed, a world above our own. Like the topmost of Babylon's serenest blue. The bright sun beams dance on its foliage, and play upon the brow of its sylph-like inhabitants—light ing them to enjoyment, us to toil. Never is a man so happy as when he can leave the world below him, join their innocent revels, and fancy himself a denizen of their world in a miniature. The most hardened must melt—the most profl i gate must be abashed— the proudest must be brought low, in the presence of those, of whom "such is the kin4dom of heaven."- •"ever too Old to Learn. W u extract the following From an article which appeared some months since in the ' Portland Orion, which forcibly illustrates, by a reference to well authenticated facts, the principle that man is never too old to learn: Socrates, at an extreme old age, learnt to play on musical instruments. This would look ridiculous for some of the rich old men in our city, especially if they should take it info their heads to thrum a guitar under a lady's window, which Socrates did not do, but only learnt to play some instrument of his time, not a guitar, for the purpose of re. eisting the wear and tear of old age. Cato, at eighty years of age, thought proper to learn the Greek language. Many of our young men at thirty and forty have Ihrgotten even the alphabet of a language the knowledge of which Was necessary to enter college, and which was made a daily exorcide through college. I fine comment upon theirlove of letters truly. Plutarch, when between seventy and eighty, commenced tho study of the Latin. Many of our young Lawyers, not thirty years of ago, think that nisi pries, wire facias, &c., are English expressions; and if you tell them that a knowledge of the Latin would make them appear a little more respectable in their profession ; they will reply that they are too old to think of learning Latin. Boccacio, was thirty-five years old when ho commenced his studios in polite litera. ture. Yet he became one of the three mas• tern of the Tuscan dialect, Dante and Pe trarch being the other two. There - are many among us ten years younger than Buccacio who are dying of ennui, and re gret that they were not educated to a taste for literature, but now they aro too old. An Actual scene after Battle. The battle of So!din, between the Rua. sians and the King of Prussia, was warmly contested; and after it was over,a clergyman went upon the ground,and afterwards wrote the following account of what ho saw: "At one o'clock the cannonading/ceased, and I went out on foot to Soldin to9earn in whose favor the battle had turned. Towards evening, seven hundred Russian fugitives came to Soldin. It was ,a pitiful sight; some holding up their hands cursing and swear ing; others praying and praising the King of Prussia, without hats or clothes, some on loot,others two on a horse,with their heads and arms tied up; some dragging along by the stirrups, and others by the tails of the horses. "When the battle was decided, and vic tory shouted for the Prussian army, I ven tured to the place where the cannonading had been. After walking some way,d Cos sack's horse came running full speed towards me. I mounted him; and on my way, for seven miles and a half on this side of the field of battle, I found the dead and wound ed lying on the ground, and sadly cut in pieces. ,The further I advanced the more these pier creatures lay heaped ono upon another. - 'That scone I shall never forget. The Cossocks,as soon as they saw me, cried out —. Water! dear sir, water! water!' Graci ous God! what a eight!—men, women, and children, Russians and Prussians, carriages and horses, oxen, chests and baggage, all lying one upon another to the height of a man; seven villages all around me in flames, and the inhabitants either massacred or thrown into the fire. I, "The poor wounded soldiers wore still firing at one another in the greatest exas peration. The field of battle was a plain two and a half miles long, entirely coverect with dead and wounded! There was not room to set my foot without treading on some of them. Several brooks were to filled up with Russians, that they lay heaped one up. on another as high as ton or twelve feet,and appeared like hills to the even ground. I could hardly recover myself from the fright occasioned by the great and miserable out cry of the wounded. A noble Prussian offi cer, who had lost both his legs, cried out to me—'Sir,you are a priest,and preach mercy; pray show me some compassion, and dos patch me at once. From the lowa Ter. Gazette Our Town. We took occasion, some time during the spring, to speak of the great number of im provements then going on in our town, and of others in contemplation ; and we again revert to the singect, for the purpose of showing people abroad how we do thioge hero west of the Mississippi. We are whol ly at a loss to say what number of houses have been put up during the present season, but it is difficult to turn the eye in any di. rection without resting on one. The build ings, too, are of a far better class than any heretofore put up. Last year, Ne could boast of but two brick buildings: now we can point to eight or ten. Those of Messrs. Rorer, Lamson and Ladd, on Water street, nearly finished will really be an ornament to the town. They are three stories high, with very deep rooms, intended for stores. Besides these,there is our large brick church which will be finished in three or four weeks, with a view to the accommodation of our legislature, and our market house, the walls of which have been up for sometime. There is only one quarter which seems to have felt the paralyzing influence of the times. We allude to the burnt square— unquestionably one of the best business sit uations in Burlington. in the course of another year, however, we expect to see the whole of this square covered with brick buildings, such as those to which we have alluded at the foot of town. Burlington must "go nhene—nothing [VOL. 9--NO. 29. can materially retard its onward march. Its advantages, and the incalculable resour ces of the country tributary to i', clearly in dicates this; and they are beginning to at tract the attention of the man of enter prise, and the capitalist, who is seeking to make profitable investments. Money in vested in property in this town and around it, or indeed any place in Des Moines coun ty, will double itself in less than five years. This is a moderate calculation, not intended to deceive, and based on no illusory data. Where, then, can the man of "dollars and cents" use his money to a greater advan tage? For ourselves, we are at a loss to conceive. SUNDAY SCHOOLS.-A Pact for Parcntx —There Is some difficulty in Cincinnati in deciding the question whether or not the common school houses should he allowed to be used for Sunday schools. On one side it is held that the city ordinances forbid the use of these buildings for any other purpose than common schools; while the other maintains that "Sunday Schools arc as com mon as Monday or Saturday schools." In the course of this discussion it was natural that the opinions of the common school teachers should [xi elicited on the subject. It appears that a large proportion of the Sunday school children attend the common school, and it is given as the opinion of the teachers of the latter, that tho children who attend the Sunday schools are the most orderly, and make the most rapid improve ment. We have not the least doubt of it; and the fact should be pondered on by all who have the care of children that should, but do not, attend Sunday schools. RELIGIO s EDUCATION.—Parents are bound to employ no instructor, who will not educate their children religiously. To code. mit our children to the care of irreligious persons, is to commit lambs to the superin tendence of wolves. • No sober man can lay his hand upon his breast,when ho has plac ed his child under the guidance of an irreli gious teacher, and say that be has done his duty, or feel himselfinnocent of the blood of his child. No man will be able, without confusion of face, to recount this part of his conduct before the bar of the final Judge. An article in the Cincinnati Gazette men tions that the Hon. John McLean, ono of the Judges of the Supreme Court of the United States, had delivered before the Col lege of Teachers in that city a lecture on the formation of Society and Government. This distinguished individual took occasion in the course of his address to analyze the social system, it its various forms, pointing out the greater or more limited necessity for education under its difihront m0(115.ca.. lions, and showed that under a popular gov ernment the only source of permanent secu rity is the intelligence of the people. It is peculiarly gratifying to see men in the high est stations thus standing forth as the cham pions of popular instruction, as through its agency alone can we hope to see the supre macy of the laws maintained and the be nign influences of free institutions in full and effective operation. The Canada papers mention that forty deserters from the United States troops at Plattsburg had found their way to Montreal. The writer recently saw three of our men in uniform, with their bundles, having just crossed the line. They wore taking mat ters quite coolly, and, in answer to a ques tion, at once confessed their purpose. The Montreal Herald states that a wagon, containing two cannons and a large quantity of cutlasses and swords, was lately captured at Missisque Bay, by a party of volunteers. The Herald says that no fewer than ten wagons, similarly loaded, have passed un detected. The Indiana Journal states that Emigra tion is pouring into tho West its thousands, and that hundreds are seen every day pass. ing in quest of now homes in the great val ley of the West. Why, said a country clergyman to one of hie flock,do you always snore in your pew when I am in the pulpit, while you are all attention to every stranger I invite? Be cause, sir, when you preach I am sure all's right; but can't trust a stranger without keeping a good look out. POTATOES.—The Philadelphia Gazette of Saturday says: "We learn that the barge Globe, now at Race street wharf, has OR board a very large cargo of Potatoes, a. mounting to nearly two thousand bushels, which are selling at the cornparattvel) low rate of 821 cents per bushel. This will be good news to many, for we have heard that the price in market for the same measure, is one dollar and a quarter." CtrnYN INDIANA.—The Visitor publish ed at Greencastle, Putt.am County,la., says, —"The corn in this county is truly promis ing; the ears are generally 'full and largo, and a better turn out is expected than has been for many years." ThE Thrrcn Nevir.—On the 9th July, Holland had in commission 9 frigates,7 cot vettes,four large and one small brig,3 steam boats, 13 gun boats, each Carrying 5 guns, and 25. with three guns; together manned by 4,703 mon. Not in commission, 3 ships of the lino, 13 frigates, 7 corvettes, 9 largo and 3 small brigs, 1 steamboat, and a great number of gunbo ats. A wise man knows his own ignoninc•—.. a fool thinks lie knows every thing.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers