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Office of the Star & Banner
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TILE GARLAN.D.
—"With sweetest flowers coricli'd
From ♦arious gardens cull'd with care."
LIVES UTUALIV:
TIT N. A. 11/VEN.
I love the dews of night—
I love the howling wind,
I lovu to hear the tempest swoop
O'er the billows of the deep !
For nature's saddest scenes delight
Tho melancholy mind.
Autumn! I love thy bower,
With faded garlands Brest;
How sweet alone to linger there,
When tempest ride the midnight air,
To snatch from mirth the fleeting hour,
ThpSabbath of the breast!
Autumn! I love thee well,
Though block thy breezes blow,
I love to 3eo thy vaporerise.
And clouds roll swiftly round the skies,
When from the plain and mountains swell
And foaming torrents flow.
Autumn! thy fading flowers
Droop but to bloom again!
So man though doomed to grief awhile,
To hang on Fortuna's fickle smile.
Sliall glow in heaven with noble power.,
Nor sigh for peace in vain.
THE NEWSPAPER.
Lot where it comes before the cheerful fire,
Damps from the press In smoky curls aspire;
(As from the earth the sun exhales the dew,)
Erc we can read the wonders that ensue:
Then eager every eye surveys the part,
That brings its favorite subject to the heart;
Grave politicians look for facts alone,
And gravely add conjectures of their own:
The sprightly nymph, who never broke her rest,
For tottering crowns, or mighty lands oppress'd,
Finds broils and battles, but neglects- them all
For songs and suits, a birth-day or a ball:
The keen, warm man o'crlooks each idle tale,
For 'Monies Wanted,' and •Estates on sale;'
While some with equal minds to all attend.
Pleased with each part, and grieved to find an end.
To this all readers turn, and they can look
Pleased on a paper, who abhor a book:
Those who ne'er deigned their Bible to peruse,
Would think it hard to be denied their news;
Sinners and saints, the wisest and the weak,
Here mingle tastes, and one amusement seek;
This, like the public inn, provides a treat,
Where each promiscuous guest sits down to eat;
And such this mental food, as we may call
Something to all men, and to some men all.
maxamaaamacmc).
Prom the Philadelphia Casket.
CHARLES MLLISTON.
..Tho touch of kindred ties and love ho feels."
"1 must leave this place to night; I can
bear their murk'd neglect and open taunts
no longer," said Charles Elliston, and he
left the richly furnished parlor, whore,with
seine fashionable guests, sat Mrs. Merton
and her two eldest daughters, and went forth
into the garden. "Yes I must go," he con
tinued, "no one cares for me;and why should
they for the pennyloss being, whose very
origin is unknown. Alns, how hard it is
to be thus cast upon the world friendless,
and beloved by none—none—none?' and
he buried his face in his hands, overcome
with the intensity of his feelings.
"None, Charles!" said a clear, silvery
voice behind him, and a hand was gently
laid on his shoulders. He started, and
turning round, said
"Ye . s, yes, Ilelen, pardon me, 1 spoke
unthinkingly. You still love me?" he ad
ded inquiringly.
"1 do, Charles, and my father—"
"Yes your' faiher, my noble benefactor,
Helen. Ile still loves me."
"Then" wliv leave us, Charles?" she said
a tender tone
"Because, Helen, you know I have been
already - the cause of much dissention in
your family—God forbid that I should be
any, longer! And besides, Helen, you
know what, treatment I have received from
your mother and sisters. I have borne it
long out of respect to your father and love
for you,but I inn boar it tin more. twill go
fhrth into the world in hopes of building up
nfartune, and say, Helen, if I should be
scceossfol, and return, w;11 you—"
"I will love you still," d lin said interrupt•
ing him. "Olt will always love you ;
finales."
"Farewell!" said he, and imprinting a
kiss upon her rosy lips, he tore himself a
way. In another hour he had quitted that
house where he had spent so many happy
days with I - Jelem
Charles . Elliston was n dependent on the
hounly of Mr. Merton. He find found him
one dav, when about four years old, wan
dering about the streets of the city, a lost
child. He kindiy took him hotne,and used
every endeavor to discover his parents; hut
all to no purpose. At last • finding hie in
quiries were useless, he raised ane educated
him as gis own. Unlike her husband Mrs.
Merton was of a proud, aristocratic aptrit,
and could not bear one whose birth WAS so un
certain as that of yitung Elltston. She had
diffused some of this spirit into her eldest
daughters, but Helen,the youngest, like her
father, possessed a noble and kind heart,
and looked only with compassion and love
upon the poor,. thOugh noble youth. Ile
was now about seventeen years of age; and
the insults that were heaped upon him were
felt severely. It is true when Mr. Merton
Foment none dare show the least disrespect
toward him, but this only served to make
him (eel it more acutely in his absence.
it was on this very mentioned evening, that
a new insult had been offored to hire, and
ho determined not to live another day where
ho was exposed to them. Nor would it have
caused him one feeling of regret, had it not
been for Mr. Morton and Helen; but how
ever dear they were to him, he resolved to
leave them. He left,too, without informing
Mr. Merton, for he well knew he would in
sist on his stayinq, and hu would not be the
author ofdiscord in that Inmily, where dwelt
the only two on earth that he could call hi■
friends.
It was near the close of a summer day
that a steamboat touched the wharf of one of
our Southern cities, and from its crowded
decks poured a stream of weary travellw's,
eager once again to set foot upon the land.
Among :he last who stepped oh shore was
a tall youth, with a valise in his hand, whO
walked slowly frolri the landing,bent his way
toward the shipping ware houses along the
wharves. He was in search of employ
ment: but alas, he was a stranger and had
no recommendations. With a (Injected
mein, and sorrowful step, he was about giv•
ing up all hopes when he came to a large
warehouse which ho had not before entered.
He walked into the-counting-house, where
sat a gentleman apparently about forty years
of age. To the youth's inpuiry whether
he was head of the estahlishment,he replied
in the affirm/awe.
"What do you wish, my lad?" lie*iquir.
"Do you want a lad to assist you in your
store? I have no recommendation to offer
you, air," he continued modestly, "I have
lust arrived in the steamboat from the north,
and have neither friends nor money. I
cannot even buy a lodging for the night,"
and seeing that the merchant looked incred
ulously at him, he could contain himself no
longer, but said imploringly, "Oh. sir, do
not reluse," and the tears crinkled down his
shacks.
The merchant, touched by his trier, and
convinced by the openness of his manner,
hesitated a moment, and finally took him to
his . house. A few days proved the truth of
the youth's story, and ho was employed by
his new benefactor. In tho course of time
he rose by degrees until ho become head
clerk in the establishment of Mr. Thomson.
He also by his amiableness became the fa
vorite of the wealthy family of the employer
with whom he still resided. All loved
him, and he loved them in return, as father
mother, and sister. For although Charles
(for it was Charles Elliston,) thought that
Emma Thompson was althost as beautiful
as his own Helen, yet he remained faithful
to the latter, and could but think of the for
mer as a sister.
Five yeate had rolled by, and he had now
become proprietor of the large establishment
which he had entered as an errand boy,Mr.
Thompson having retired from business.
One evening he was sitting in family con 7
vorsation withthe family,whan M rs. Thomp
son, after looking steadfastly at Charles for
some time, remarkad how much Emma and
he resembled ouch other.
"Yes," said her husband, ''l have often
observed it; they look as much alike us
though they •vere roally brother and sister.
Our lost Charles—poor little lellow!—could
not have been more like Emma."
"Your Charles? I never knew you ever
had any child besides Emma," said he,
"when did ho d►o?"
"Would to God he had clued!" exclaimed
Mrs. Thotnpson,"then would I have known
he was in heaverOtut now, perhaps, ifhe is
still alive,he may be buffeted about by stran
gers, whose hard hourts can seldom Feel
like parent's and then she gave vent to her
feelings
,in tears.
"Flo was lost then?" asked Charles.
"Yes," said Mr. Thompson, "above sev.
enteen years ago. 1 and Mary, journeying
north for the benefit of heniths, and to
visit some friends in New York • city, we
took with us our little Charles, who was
scarcely four years old, and then our only
child.. IVO' arrived there in safety, and
alter staying with
. our friends some time,
set out on our return home. Anxious to
prosecute our journey, we immediately on
our arrival in Philadelphia, took the steam
boat to proceed immediately on, I went to
see to the safety of the baggage, thinking
that my Mary and Charles were in the cab
in, but what. was my-surprise, When on, go.
ing into the.cabin, some time after the boat
had . left the .wart to find Mary there alone.
She thought I had Charles with me, and she
swooned away, when r informod her 1 had
.4g The liberty to know, to utter, and to argue, freely, Is above all other libertfes.”—Mu.Tom
ZPGICkOp tiquezna,2)ll.X mLF 212 111 sop aatac,
G. T7ACIIIINGTON moTri'mr, nnitron & ralopnzwrort.
not. We searched the boat over, but no
Charles could be found, and then it struck
us, that he might have wandered on shore,
before the boat left the wharf, and conse
quently was left behind. flow harrowing
were our thoughts! to think that every min-,
uto the distance was increasing between us
and our dear. beloved child. But there ivas
a thought still more distressing, perhaps he
had fallen overboard unseen, and had been
drowned. However, I determined on arri
ving at Now Orleans, and leaving Mary
with her friends. and relations, to return
again to Philadelphia and spare no rains nor
expense in trying to discover his fate; but
the great mental excitement and bodily fa
tigue I hail undeigone, threw me into a
fever on the way, and it was several months
before I recovered. When I did, and ar
rived in Philadelphia, no trace could be die
covered of our child, and never since have
we heard any thing concerning him; God
be praised, Charles, he has given us a son in
you!"
. "But was there no mark by which ho
could have been known, if ho had been left
behind as you first supposed?"asked Charles
eagerly.
"Yes, there were scars of, dog's teeth on
his left wrist, and besides he wore n locket
—a birth-day present from his father--
around his neck, with 'Charles' engraved
on it," said Mrs. Thompson, with tears in
her eves.
"Then, rather, mother," said Charles,
bearing his arm, and drawing from his bo
som a locket which he threw into Mrs.
Thompson's lap, "Behold your long lost
eon!"
For an instant they stood amozed— : the
next (bey were locked in each other's arms;
then turning to Emma, he for the first time
pressed. to his bosom a sister. Flow differ
ent wan his situation now, from the day on
which he first sot foot in the city of New
Orleans! Then he was poor, friendless,
with scarco a place to rest his head; now he
was wealthy surrounded by friends, and
blessed with a father's mother's and sister's
love. He could claim now, what her noble
father would not have refused, even to the
poor youth, had he asked it—Helen's hand;
and eves her proud mother would not object
receiving for her son in•law, the heir of the
richest merchant in New Orleans.
Mirth and music resounded throughout,
and joy, and gladness reigned predominant
in the splendid mansion of Mr. Merton. It
was the birth-night ball of his lovely and
accomplished dnughter, Helen, given on
her nineteenth birth-dav,and the magnificent
saloons were thronged by the youth, beauty
and elite of the metropolis. All paid wil
ling homage to her fascinating charms.
Nor beneath their fervent congratulations
did there lurk aught of malice or envy; ro - r
the sweet disposition and gentle manners o
Helen Merton had won the good will of all
who . knew her. And now, as she replied
to their warm hearted Wishes, she looked
more beautiful than ever. •She was attired
in a plain white dress, looped with roses,
and fitting exquisitely to her finely moun
ted form; her shining cheenut curls were
confined by a costly diamond head-band,
that sparkled on her forehead, rivalling the
transparent beauty and clearness of her com
plexion.—All these when she would mingle
in the giddy whirl of the dance, a smile
would play upon hor lovely features; but
when over, a melancholy expression would
steal into her laughing eye, telling of some
thing yet wanted to complete her happiness.
She was thinking, perhaps, how he who
many years ago, had won her maiden love,
might,whilbt she was surrounded by wealth
and luxtiry,be dragging out the prime of his
life in poyerty and distress. Yes, sho still
remembered the companion of her child
hood.—Such is a woman's constancy and
love.—Alas that it should so often be abu
sed!
The evening way somewhat advanced
when Mr. Merton approached Holen,locked
arm in arm with a young man, whose dark
countenance, raven hair, and eyes, and tall,
straight form, indicated a Clive of tho
South.
"Mr. Thompson of New Orleans, my
dear," said Mr. Morton, introducing h imto
Helen, and then, after convotsing for a few
moments, sauntering to the opposite side of
the saloon.
"Who is that handsome young man you
just introduced to Helent" asked Mrs. Mer
ton of hor husband.
"That is Mr. Thompson of New Orleans,
the richest merchant in that city, and his
father was before him. He arrived but
day before yesterday. I was introduced to
him yesterday, and invited him here to
night, and if the impression of his features
is not left oa Helen's little heart, which has
hitherto been so callous, none ever .will
be." •
'And if the)) , are, I suppose you will re
gret the disappearance of your protege
Charles -Ellistou," said his, wife, sarcasti
cally.
Mr. Merton did not answer her; he only
turned away.
At first, when the stranger was introdu
ced to Helen, there appeared an air of em
barrassment, but it gradually wore off, and
he entered into conversation with his usual
vivacity ! In the course of it she asked
him if he had ever been in the city. before.
He replied he had been when he was . about
seventeen years of age,and that ho had then
become acquainted with several of•hiq own
age, whose acquaintance ho highly prized.
Among those he mentioned, Was that of
Charles Elliston, in particular. As ho pro
nounced the name, ho bent hie dark eye
full upon her, and perceiVed that she started
while for a moment, agitation was visibly
depicted in her countenance. Aller a min
ute'a pauso, he continued, "but I have made
inquiries, since my arrival, respecting him,
and hear that he has returned the kindness
of his benefactor, youi father, with ingrati
tude, hy leaving hie house,and goi n g .no one
knelt' `whither."
' "Oh. no, sir, do not believe that; it is an
une report. 'He had reason for leaving my
father's house," and her voice trembled and
a tear stood in her eye.
Just then a gentlenian advanced to claim
her hand for the last cotillion, and the con
versation was abruptly terminated. Charles
resigned her silently; but his heart was full!
It is strange bow the lapse of n few years
beneath youth and manhood will change
the face and disguise the form; the slight
stripling that , a little while ego clambered
on one knee, we can scarcely'recognize in
the full, stately form, and staid demeanor of
the man. So it was with Charles Thomp.
son, and no wonder Helen and her father
could not see, in the rich merchant of the
South, the poor lad, who, six years before,
had left them with scarce a dollar in hie
pocket.
It was the morning following the ball, and
Mr. nod Mrs. Merton and Helen were sit
ting in the pa,or—the former two engaged
in discussing some private affairs, the latter
with her hea d resting upon her hand, appa
rently in deep thought. The servant enter
od,..and handed Mr. Merton a letter. Ho
opened it, and after having perused it for a
feiv moments, uttered en exclamation ofjoy.
Both his companions looked up. Seeming.
ly overcome with the excitement of some
unusually pleasing news he approached his
daughter, and gently patting her on the
cheek, said
"Come, come, Helen dear, cheer up;
Charles, our own dear Charles,, has return
ed, is in the city, and will be hero in half
an hour—cheer up my dear!" and he began
to pace the floor.
"See here," he continued, as a splendid
equipage, with servants to livery, drove up
to the door, from which a young gentleman
alighted, "here is Mr. Thompson too; how
glad 1 shall be to introduce them to. one
another."
"I don't see why you should be," said his
wife, "though, perhaps, your Charles ' as
you call him, may be as rich how as Mr.
Thompson. You know he left word that
be was, going to seek hie fortune," and she
pronounced the last word with a sneer.
"And he hopes he has found it, madam ; "
exclainied Charles, who entered just at that
moment, "thanks be lo an all-wise provi
dence that directed me to my father's house.
It is Charles that stands before you!"
What a shriek of delight, Helen threw
herself into his outstretched arms, end wept
tears of joy upon his bosom, while the old
man stood motionless, but his eyes were wet
and his lips quivered, !hough not with grief.
When they hsd become somewhat corn.
posed, Charles related to them what had oc
curred since he left them. The joys that
beamed in the swimming eyes of the delight
ed girl, as she hung fondly on her lover's
arm, was only equalled by the tenderness
with which he returned her look ofafTectioe.
How deep Was the bliss of that moment,
making amends by its delight, for the loag
years of'doubt and absence. It was not
long before Charles renewed again the boy
ish vows ho had pledged to Helen, and the
blushing girl listened, smiling and weeping
,by turns. Need it bo added, that in a short
time Helen and Charles were united at the
altar, and that oven the aristocratic mother
smiled upon the union of her daughter with
the ci devant Charles Elliston.
From tho Kentucky Sentinel
Question What is Tobacco 1
Answer. An ill-savored, stinking narco
, poisonous weed.
Q,. Db animals feed on this weed?
A. An ill•looking reptile called a tobacco
worm, •a species of stinking goat, and the
noblest of God's creatures, man, are the on•
ly beings under the canopy of heaven that
will touch, or have any thing to do with it.
Q. What is chewing tobacco?
A. It is to stuff the mouth of man with
that which would make a hog squeal or a
dog vomit. It is.to make man an associate
and boon companion of the tobacco worm.
Q. What benefits are to be derived from
tobacco?
A. It discolors and destroys the teeth,
causes an unnatural and deleterious flow of
saliva, produces dyspepsia and all the evils
attendant upon dyspepsia.
Q. Do gentlemen chew tobacco?
A. 51 um.
Q. What is a cigar?
A. A cylindrical roll of pollution formed
to protrude from the frontal orifice, of the
heads of fools and dandies.
Q. What is smoking cigars'?
A. it. is that roll of pollution ignited at
one end, and a calf tugging at the other.
Q. Do gentlemen Smoke cigars?
A. Mum.
Q. What is snufl?
A. It is the sterns and refuse and most
nauseous portions of tobacco ground to pow
der, but not to be trodden under foot of men.
Q. Were ladles noses made for snufF?
A. If we reason from analogy we con
clude not; for in all the works of the Crea•
tor we obsory©a wonderful adaptation of
parts to the use , for which they were de
signed:, We therefore.conchide, had they
been designed for mil, they would have
been turned the other end up.. Wouldn't
this look nice?
Q. Do ladies take snuff
A. Mum.
Q. Who knows the folly, the evil ()fusing
tobacco from many years experience?
A. The writer of this.
Q. In not experience a goodteatber?
A. The , proverb says she is, and thri
fools will learn of no other.
Q. Will experience! teach :fools to qui
using tobacco?
A.' We rear they will reject her lessons
TOO TIME TO MAKE A JOKE or.L—Netvi
paper Jokis..—There is but to muctorMh
(says tho Newhurroort Herald) in the'fol
lowing paragraph, cut from the Philadelphia
Ledger:
"One or the standing jokes.of the news
paper press is the poverty of the editors.
Sometimes there . ts too much truth in this
to make jest of it—we know, for instance,
an editor who published a paper to support
a certain cause,, nod who was supported
himself by the voluntary contribution's of
those whose interests he was Inhering to
uphold. This happy person complained, in
one number of his paper, that he and his
wife bad subsisted two weeks on bread and
molasses and earnestly entreated his friends
to 'pony up,' or he should be obliged to re.
duce his diet; and that (ha suggested) might
impair the vigor able intellect, and disable
him from discharging his duties in en ener
getic manner: This was nll regarded as a
pretty fair editorial joke; but in a private
conversation, the scribe assured us in the
most serious manner, that his 'account of
hie way of living was :iternlly true. Such
candid editors are comr.ionly of the rustic
class . ; our city scribes conceal their poverty
as long ne possible, and while their-jaws
shrink in and kiss each other with starva
tion, they zealously maintain thee'. they are
faring sumptuously every day. They haie
no Complaints to make —not they. They
are always at the height of prosperity; and
the first hint of any thing else which the
public receive; is the
,sudden death, from
exhaustion, of the very paper which' had
been all along thiiVing so prodigiously."
COIISETS.—The Boston Transcript ex ;
claims against, the lridies being squeezed in
corsets. We see the drift of the fellow; if
any squeezing is to be done, he wishes to do
i t himself. We confess a lady's waist nev•
er appears lovelier to us than when it is
broad and large; a good armful. Your corn•
stalk figures are scarcely palpable—to em
brace them is analogous to hugging a knit
ting, needle. When a lady's bosom ie com-:
pressed with cords and canvass, can the
heart throb and dilate with generous omo.
tions? how can such a bosom feel friend
ship, or sympathy, or love? A large waist
is, generally speaking, a sign of loving and
loveable qualities. The rationale of the
thing is as plain as sunshine. A small, waist
is the indication of a email heart, and a small
heart will seldem‘he found to contain those
noble and expansive sentiments which con
stitute the essence of all female loveliness.
Therefore, girls if you wish to be beloved,
do not screw and compress your gentle bo
soms. Do not bind the sweet emotions of
your hearts in ropes of hempen rigidity,—
Do not choke up the fountains of feeling and
sentiment with bits of hard canvass and
stakes of stubborn whalebone. No, ladies,
do nothing of the kind and be assured of this,
that the fellow who admires a female in a
state of excruciating agony, who by his per
nicious taste would impose upon her an un
deserved penance—such a foolish fellow
wo say, and his good opinion aro not worth
a thought. Men of good sense - like a large
WAIST in a wife, but a vary little WASTE
in the family. There is no economy in
screwing up your persons; but we have of
ten observed that ladies who make a prat•
tice of doing so are nevertheless WASTEFUL
and extravagant.—Phil. Ledger.
Newsrekricas.--A child begining to read
becomes delighted with a newspaper, be
cause he reads of names and things that
are familiar. A newspaper in one year
says Mr. Weeks, is worth a quarter's schoo
ling to a child, and every father must con
sider that substantial informatiOn is connec
ted With this advancement. The mother
of the family being ono of its heads, and
having a more immediate charge of chil
dren, ought to be Intelligent in mind, puro
in language, and always cheerful and cir
cumspect. As the instructor of her chil
dren, she should herself be instructed.
A mind occupied, becomes fortified
against the ills of life, and is braced for any
emergency. Children amused by reading
and study, are of course considerate and
morn easily governed.
How many thoughtless yOung men have
spent their evenings in a tavern or grog
shop which ought to be devoted to reading?
how many parents who never spent twenty
dollars for books for their familes would
gladly have given thousauds to reclaim a
son or daughter who had ignorantly and
thoughtlessly fallen into temptation.
ADVICE GRATIS
Advice to young gtrls.—Never marry a
boy whose mamma is afraid to havo him
to go on the water or whose papa cannot
tell the difference between the toothache
and the lockjaw.
Advice to young inen:—Have it fairly
understood before you
.wed, whether you
intend to marry an individual, or a whole
Advice to parents. —Do not let a silly
ambitioc hazard the happiness of your chil
dren, nor your chagrin at the f tiscovery of
your oivn folly betray you into a violation of
your obligations.
Advice to indtsereet people.--Never
hire a printer to publish your folly in a book
for it is worse than being hung; and pay
ing the cucutioneer fluty shillings.
lgoaricoam o)(oce eao4
Advice to babies.—lterrtnin your
mothers as long as you con, nod do not get
tharriod before, you are out• of lenchng
strings.
Advice. to judges.— In forming nn opin.
ion, keep Luck ears open, and then you can
hear On both 81(109.
Advice to degislators. 7 - , Never become
the corrupt tools of wealth.. •
Advice to any one who is, pleased to-re
ceive it.—l f you wish to stab a person's re
putation, by-imputing 'to him or, her false
hood, treachery, and the meanest Selfish
ness,you may as well use the naked dagger
as to wreath the blade with flowers.
Advice to sentimental people.--the no•
blest of all sentiment is that., which springs
from Sincerity, Constancy, Frankness, and
Forgiveness. -
Advice to merahants.—Advertise, if you
would be prosperous and happy.
Advice to politicians. Collect the bets
you have made, as soon as possible, pay
those yoU have lost without delay, and never
be guilty of such conduct again.. '
Advice to the temperance parly.—;-Offer
a reward for the best model of u cider mill.
Advice to people in coern/.—Subscribe
fora newspaper—pay . the prtnter,and mind
your own business,—Boston Post. • . •
CVRIOVO BintE.- 7 -There is 'at present in
tbe, possession ola Mrs.. Parkes, of Golden
Square, London, a copy of Macklin's Di...
ble, in 45 large folio volpmes, illustrated
with nearly 7000 engravings, from the age
of Michael Angelo to that
. 01 Reynolds and
Wist. The work also contains about 200•
original drawings or vignettes by Louther
bourg. The prints and etchings include
the works of Ratraelle, flake Antonio, Al
bert Durer, Collet, Rembrant, and other
masters, consisting of representations of
nearly every fact; circuinstarice,.and ebject.
mentioned in the. holy Scrip:urea. There
are, moreover, designs of trees, plants, flow:
era, quadrupeds, birds, fishes, and
,insects,
such, besides fossils, as have been adduced ,
in proof of an universal deluge. .The' most
authentic scripture atlasses aro bound up
with the volumes. This Bible was the pro
perty of tho late Mr. Boyer, the publisher,
who collected and arranged the engravings.
etehings, and .drawings, at great expense
and labor; and he is said fo . h,avo.been enga
ged upwards of 30 years in rendering it per
feet. It was insured in the Albion Insurance,
Office for £3OOO.
PAlrtrim Dr.cosunr.s.—One of exchange
papers fiirnishes a notice of a late nddress
of Bishop Smith, who is superintendent of
the Kentucky Public Schools, disclosing
the astounding fact that of the 140,000 chi'.
dren of the proper ago to go to school, in,
that state, only about 32,000 are receiving
an education!' He farther states that it costs
about as much to educate the 32,000, under
the present system, as it would to educate
the whole 140,000 under the common school
spawn! The notice goes on to say that, in
one of the Circuit Courts the judge ascer
tained that not one of fifteen persons sum
moned as grand jurors could read or write
his own name. In another county, in a
public assembly ofabout fifty persons, not
one could be found capable of reading.--
Balt. Sun.
A _PROSPECT ICINGS DIIGEIT zemr.—Far
mer Harrison can stand at the door of his
Log Cabin at . North Bend, and look upon
the soil of three noble States cherished and
defended by him in their infancy and dan
ger, and. whose three millions of free peo
ple in the might of their manhood have now
repaid his fatherly care with a majority of
sixty thonsand for. President. What mon
arch ever ruled tin - bnur like this?
Another viele.—Tarmer Harrison from
his North Bend Cabin can, look upon the
verdant hills of two Statds,in either of which
his majority for President is larger than
the majority obtained by hie opponent in
the whole twenty-six! dided es he was by
the entire gOvernment patronage and influ
ence. Glorious locality that same North
Bend.—Cleve. Her.
FROST BITTEN HANDS, Scc.„ may be
cured, so says a correspondent of the Phila
delphia Ledger, by desolving alum in pret
ty warm water, and bathing or washing the
frozen parts in the solution for somo ten or
fifteen minutes before going to bed. .Three
ounees of alum to a quart of warm water is
the proportion.
CROOKED Stm.rEars.—The newspapers
are publishing a - story of n crooked fence
"down east;" which was .. so warped, that a
hog in attemping to get through it, always
came out on the same side. The following
from an exchange i 3 nearly as bad:—;"There
is a fellow down oak whose feller are so
crooked that his pantatoons (urn hind part
before in less than half an hour after he putS
them an." But what are both - these to Stun
Slick's crooked tree which was so croaked
that a stieak oflimhtninff was half an hour.
Coming down? •
The two most Catholic countries in Eu
rope, Spain and Portugal, the Protesant
Empire of Great Britain, and tho hlahem•
inedan dominions of the Sultan, are now
ruled over by Sovorings, not one of thi‘in
whom has completed his or her twelity.tirst
.ear.
ADVICE FIIAT MAY DE SSAFEI•Y F i nr.r.olv •
En.—Praise the fineness cultic day when, it
is ended—a sword when you have ppiveil
it—a maiden when she is married —die ice
when you have crossed it—and a newspaper
when you hare read and PAID for it.