•,- " . • , 11) • 4 111) . y. , ' 4 . ' • ~ , 4 4; 1•1 11: ,-;4 ': ;;; • • ••••', T)34 . 4) TS ta .m.• •CO ce Office of the Star & Banner COUNTY' BUILDING, ABOVE THE OFFICE OF THE REOISTER AND RECORDER. 1. Tho STAR & itKPITOLICAN BANNER is pub- Ishii(' at TWO DOLLARS per annum (or Vol u on of 52 nu•nbers,) payable half -yearly in ad vance: or TWO DOLLARS & FIFTY . CENTS, if ant paid until after the expiration of the year. N , l:illbieriptioll will be received for a shorter period than six months; nor will the paper be dis continued until all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the Editor. A failure to notify a dis continuance will he considered a new engagement and the paper forwarded accordingly. 111. A D VERTIHEHENTS not exceeding a square will ho inserted THREE times for $l, and 25 cents for each subsequent insertion—the number of in serti•on to ho marked, or they will be published till forbid and charged accordingly; longer ones in the same proportion. A reasonable deductionvill be male to those who advertise by the year. IV. MI Lettersand Communications addressed to the Editor by mail must holiest -paid, or they will not be attended to. PITITMTITMEI7IT4T7II.II A NEW SERIES OF THE NEW-YORE MIRROR, A Weekly Journal of the Belles Leiters and Me Fine Arts; Embellished Monthly, with Costly and Mag nificent Quarto Steel Engravings, and with the most popular and beautiful Mu. sic of. the day, arranged (or the Pinno• forte, Guitar and Harp; containing con. tributions. from' Authors of the highest distinction at home and abroad, and de• signed as at, elegant Parlour Journal for all classes of society. Memoirs, Biography, Novels, Tales, Tray'. els, Voyages, Poetry, Criticism, History, Arts, Sciences, Narratives, Incidents,. Adventures, Scenery, Correspondence, Sketches of Society and Manners, Pas sing events of the Times, Anecdote ana Gossip, the Fashions in Dress, and every other subject within the range of Polite Literature, is embraced in its Plan. The whole forming, at the end of the year a large quarto 'volume of 416 imperi al pages; being a beautiful ornament to the Plana-forte, on account of the 4usrc; and an attractive and charming embellishment to the centre table, on account of the EN. O R VINGS. EDITED BY GEORGE P. MORRIS It has been said, that the American peo ple are fickle in their attaahments;that they are fond of change and variety, and willing. ly part with an old friend for the novelty of a new acquaintance. As far ns it relates to us, we can unequivocally deny the asser tion. It is now more than seventeen years siuce we, a mere boy at the time, commen ced the publication ofthe New-York Mirror; nnd,under all its changes and improvements thousands of its early friends and subscri bers have adhered to it with a constancy no less flattering to ourselves than it is com plimentary to their permanent attachments. We now contemplate an important change, viz. a commencement of our nine teenth year, on the Ist of January next.-- In making this change, we are only follow ing the example of many of our contempora. ries, who, after publishing their papers fnr several years, were under the necessity of adopting this plan, that their subscribers might not thereafter b, confused about the beginning and end of the publication year. But the more iinportant part ofour change is, our intention of giving an elegant steel plate engraving every month, many of which we have already selected, and (mare viers engaged on several of them." We have now a number of artists employed, and have made arrangements to have the plates printed three months in advance of their publication, so that they. may be thorough ly dried; and sustain no injury whatever by mail carriage. No engravings of a more attractive or fascinating character, ever came from the burin nfan artist, than those now in preparation for the New York Mir ror. They have never been equalled in this country, and cannot be surpassed any where; at least, this is the opinion of numer ous connoisseurs to whom we have shown the twelve that have been selected felikthe new volume; end, we have not the shadow of a doubt, but that they will create a sensa. sinn, when they are presented to our sub scribers, who, we are confident, will be de lighted with them.. We also intend to give monthly, a wood cut representation and de scription of the latest fashions of Europe.— These additions will cost .us, exclusive of our present expenses, several thousands of dollars per annum. The arrangement, while it will aflind to the readers of the Mirror more than abun dant equivalent for the trifling price at which it is published, (for the plates could net he purchased at our print stores Balm ntely f P 5, nor could the music be obtain ed for That amount) will, we trust, give us' such an increase of subscribers as will ena ble ns to proceed with renewed energy and unflagging industry in the prosecution of time and money. IV,heri we began the publication of the Mirror, there was no work of a smaller character in the Union,, of any literary merit. which combined such a number of attractions as we have presented in saperi• or engravings, music, beautiful paper, and extreme neatness of typography. %Volt a &termination to render it n wn It worths of the entensive support, which it has al ways reecived, tie wont on, vetir after year, empl"yin:4 t dent of n high order, in beauti yiog ;in-1 ornamentin g the work with g em s of the . p:med and the pen. Few can con ceive the immense amount we have paid for literary and pictorial contributions.— We have been the pioneer in almost every thing that has lifted the periodical press of this country from its former to its present position, until, by common consent, the New York Mirror has been considered as inferior to no :iterary publication of a simi lar character in the world. We some years since, in consequence of our constantly in. creasing expenses, raised the price to five dollars, and our friends have paid it cheer fully, from a conviction that it is now, and always has been,honestly worth the money. Within the last few years a change has come over every thing, particularly the re public of letters. periodicals have increas ed in vast numbers,.and the adoption of the cash system, and its certain and prompt re sults, have induced some few publishers to reduce the price of subscriptions, and to be contented with limited profits in considers• tion of the facilities afforded them by prompt payment. The subscribers of the New York Mirror, are entitled to the full benefit of this change, and we have therefore re volved to begin n new series of the work on the first of January next; but as our motto is not "reduction of price and grand- ual decrease of excellence," but a desire to follow up our seventeen years, advance in all respects, and now make the Mirror the most elegant periodical in the world, we shall make the expensive additions belore , mentioned, and continue the charge of only five dollars per annum,—payable, in all cases, in advance. In thus issuing it at a price which would appear to all acquainted with the subject, scarcely sufficient to de fray its current expenses of print and paper, we do not contemplate the least diminution. in the interest and value of the publication, editorially considered. On the contrary, it will contain literary articles of intense in terest, and every exertion will be made to furnish the most fashionable, choice and popular music; and no pains or expense will be spared to sustait, its present high literary character, and to keep it at least in the foremost rank with the most popular peri odicals in this country or Europe. Wo even expect in this respect to surpass our former °films, as the editor, by a recent ar rangement, 'will be • released from all the cares connected with its business depart ment, which has for years rested upon him, depriving him ofsmuch of the time he wish. ed to spend in catering for the public. We ask, in return, from the friends o American literature, the cordial and hearty support of this new and expent.ive series; and have no doubt but we shall liberally receive it. • In country towns and villages, where the population is small in number, thoso who wish to receive the Mirror, would hnd it to their interest to obtain at least seven sub• scribers for the wonk•in order that they may receive the pinto impressions without being folded, A smaller package cannot be conveniently forwarded by mail in this manner. To. those who obtain seven sub• scribers the usual commission will be allow SUMMARY OF CONDITIONS The Mirro'r is printed and published by DANIEL FANSIIA‘V, ever) Saturday, at his Book-Store, No. 149 Nassau street, in the extra snper-royal quartoform. It is embehshed, once every month, with a /pleaded super-royal engraving, and every week with a popular piece of music, arrang ed for the piano-16Mo, harp, guitar, &c.— the terms are FIVE dollars per annum, payable, in all cases in advance. It is for warded by the earliest mails to subscribers residing out of the city of New York. 'l'he postage must be paid an alt commu nications. Such as relate to the editorial department must be directed to GEORGE P. MORRIS; and alll other 2 to D. FAN SD A W. No subscriptions received for lees period than one year. , Post Masters generally, are requested to act ns Agents for the work. As all per sons may not be aware of the regulations of the Post Office department, we take oc• casion to state, that Post Masters are au thorized by law to remit money to the pub lishers of papers free ofchnrge. All there fore, that a person has to do, who wishes to subscribe to this periodical, is to write a letter to that erect, enclosing the price of subscript ion,and the Post Masters will frank it cheerfully.. Jan. 5, 1841. A MALAraoto.—Aliishionable lady being asked how she, liked the dinner given et a distinguished poet's, her reply was- , --"The dinner wns explendid, but . my seat was so promote from the nick.nncks, that I could not ratify my appetite, and the pickled cher ies had such deject on my head that I had a motion to leave the table; but Mr. give me some hertshorn resolved in water, which bei . eaed me." REWARD OF INGENUITY. -.Mr. Burden, of Troy Iron Works, invented last fall,• an ingenious and valuable piece of machinery for conipressing,andfiving form to the ball iron, ns it comes ',glowing from the furnace. It is intended as a substitute for trip ham mers, and does its work instantly. It pos. senses immense value, both as a labor say int,. machine, and becattso it accomplishes its work with neatness and rapidity. As yet only ono of these machines has been erected in this country. Contracts aro now making by Mr. Burden, to supply other iron establichments. But the best of it is, last week the inventor sold the patent right for Scotland alone, for $25,000! That's doing the thing handsomely.— Troy Mail. G. wAsznroslorr now =m, EDITOR & rnoppzr.,Ton. gg The liberty to know, to utter, and to argue, freely, is above all other liberties.9l—Mumis painpuizenay.zae. p oo t. -- evaamgaw s aQax.i4vail3zr ag9 mula. Sparkling and bright in liquid light Does the wino our goblets gleam in, With hue as red as the rosy bed Which a beo would wish to dream in. Then fill to-night with hearts as light, To loves as gay and fleeting As bubbles that swim on the beaker's brim, And break on the lips while meeting. Oh! if Mirth might arrest the flight Of Time, through Life's dominions, . We hero awhile would now beguile The Gray-heard of his pinions To drink to-night with hearts as light, To loves as gay and fleeting As bubbles that swim on the beaker's brim, And break on the lips while meeting. But since delight can't icmpt the melt, Nor fond regret delai him, Nor Love himself can hold the elf, Nor sober Friendship stay him, We'll drink to night with hearts as light, To loves as gay and fleeting As bubbles that swim on the beaker's brim, And break on the lips while meeting. A WORD TO THE SLUGGISH—Br GOTITTIE. Lose this day loitering—'t will he the same story To-morrow, and the next mare dilatory; The indecision brings its own delays, And days are lost lamenting over days. Are you in earnest seize this very minute— What you can do, or think you can, begin it:' Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Only engage, and then the mine grows heated— Begin it, and the work will be completed. As snon as the Harrisburg Convention nominated the .Id Hero of Tippecanoe as a suitable person to preside over our beloved country, Frank Smith looked around among his female friends to'select a suitable '0: vidusl to preside over h:s affections. Frank woe a whole souled Whig, and reposed the utmost confidence in the success of the •no mtneo of the convention. He was enga ged in business, and declined taking a wife only on account of the uncertainty of the times. He kept' an old bachelor's hall, which was genteelly furnished with every thing 'requisite for house keeping. All that was wanting to complete his happiness was a beautiful companion with a heart like his own. Frank was as fine a young fel low as ever rallied round the Tippecanoe flag, and might have cut quite n conspicu ous figure in the world if he had been gift ed with less diffidenoe. Frank soon came to a decision. He si lently nominated to the highest office in the gift of his affections, a young lady who was in every particular, worthy of his noble eart. She was n distant family connec- tion—a charming, cherry checked, cheer -lul,•capricious creature of a cousin—about as old as himself, and endowed with a prop er share of that good common sense for which our fair country women are so emi nently distinguished all over Ihe world. Frank Smith embarked enthusiastically in the double care of love and politics. He carried both with him, hand in hand; but it might have been observed that he conduc; ted one cause with eloquent looks. He of ten told his fair cousin Tilly that General Harrison was his choice for the highest of fice in the gilt of the people, bnt never once did he tell her that she was his only choice for the highest post in his own g ift. But Why should he have told her so? She knew it as well as he did. His eyes had many a time told her the story too plainly t be misunderstood. Frank had made at least a dozen attempts to disclose his leelinos to his cousin, but his lips invariably refused to obey the prompt• ings of his team One evening, just before the Presidential election, the two were together engaged as every, body else was, in talking over politi cal matters—for Tiliy, like all other pretty girls, was a thorough-going, Hurrisonian. 'Cousin 'Filly,' said Frank, 'it is now cer tain that Old Tip will be our next Presi dent. The People will then once more Fie prosperous—business will revive, and thoan young men who have all along hesitated about changing their condition, may now just as' well look out for helpmate's. What say you to their certainly think,' sold she, 'that our cox should now, that this long contest is About to close, receive n share of their attentions.' 'Yes, cousin Tilly, Harrison is good (or the next four years—that's certain! • .You must have noticed, cousin Tilly, that j am heartily tired of this confounded bachelor life; and from the attentions I have paid to you, the object of my effec--4hat is—the —the—that you are the—l was about to— oh! listen to the glorious Tippecanoe song in the stieet6! "For all the world seems turning round, For Tippecanoe and Tyler too!" Frank's incoherent love•speeches were cut short, fortunately for him, by a crowd M the street e , inging lustily the faMOUS song of rippecanee.and Tyler too.' THE GARLAND. t3t . —"With sweetest flowers enrich'd From various gardens cull'd with care." SP.ARICLING AND BRIGHT. DT C. P. 1101101iN MlOOOU.3l4,n`iOTC3O From the Wheeling Gazette. cousnq 'SILL i'3 PTT. 'Really cousin Frank,' said Tilly 'you are not fit for any thing but to talk .poli tics.' nm nfrnid there is to much truth in what you say,' replied Frank, 'but still, I must insist that I tried my best 'to tell you my thoughts upon a different subject.' 'And why did you not finish telling tlteml' said his cousin archey. 'Becsuse I was too much of a blockhead or a coward.' • 'A bold Tippecanoe soldier you are truly You need not fear me, cousin Frank; I an only a woman.' 'So you are cousin; but I must contliss that 1 am the greatest coward on earth when 1 attempt to open my heart to you.' • 'Most astonishing,' said Tilly. 'All very true, my cousin. You kdow full well—l know you do—that I have long entertained a deep—what was I going to sayl—l don't believe Van will get more than six states at the outside.' 'Cousin Frank, 1 shall have to put 'vou in charge of old Tip's keepers. You are going crazy.' believe so myself: lamin a bad box, L assure you, Cousin Tilly: Tell me how to get out of this confounded quandary. You know what I want to tell you. How shall gay it?' 'Don't know,' said Tilly. 'Cousin?' said Frank, imploringly. 'Well.' 'Do tell me.' bet you that Harrison will be oleo ed,' said 'Oh! hut I would bot that way myself,' replied Frank. 'You wished me to help you out 'of your quandary, cousin Frank. You must there. tore take tho bet.' 'What do you w•atit to bet requireti Frank. 'Myself.' 'Agatast what?' 'Yourself.' 'But let me see,' said Frank, who was somewhat puzzled to understand the' operi tion of the wager, should lose, as I sure ly will, how will it then be? 'H . you lose,' said she, 'I will win YOU; and if/lose, you will win ME. Either way will suit you, I suppose.' see through it,' exclaimed Frank, in an ecstacy of joy. 'Done, done, done.—Give me your hand.—Hurrah for-Tip, Ty and Till Cousin, you have done the business gloriously; I am happy.' • The election came, and Harrison won the day. Of course, cousin Tilly won the bet, and cheerfully was it paid, and grace fully was it accepted. They celebrated Old Tip's election a few evenings ago, by a merry wedding.—Joy be with them. RORY. A.m.. • ........ ONE WHO HAS DIED WITHOUT LIVING. Al. Paul .Legrand died a few weeke-ago nt Dijon, in Burgundy, at the age of 71, leaving tho following memoir, whereby he proves that he had not lived: • All that is suffering, sorrow, ennui, do pair, desire, regret, should be deducted from life, because we 'should ourselves have de. ducted it had heaven permitted. When three years old 1 was weaned, nt six I could speak but badly--:at seven I split my skull; at nine I was cured. I must, therefore, ex tract nine years from my existence; for surely to drink a nurse's sour milk, not to speak, or speak badly, and to split one's skull, is not , living. At the age of nine I began my studies. Owing to my cracked skull, my head was a hard 'one, and I pro ved .tubborn to tuition. I. required two year's labor to spell the alphabet. I was indebted to letter 'l alone for about four score hundred lashes; the other twenty three letters made a complete martyr of me. At the age of twelve I could read, but my body Was mangled with the alphabet scars. An attempt was made to teach me Latin, and I Inst my French in the expert. meet. At fifteen I knew nothing at all, and a. forced diet of bread and water had re. duced me to the condition of a skelleton. Six years knore are therefore to be deduct. ed. At sixteen my father made me a nata -Iry's clerk. There commenced a new spe. cies of martyrdom. I got 'up at six, swept the office, lighted the stove, was drubbed by I the taller clerks, and my father, overwhelm- I i ed with complaints about me, deprived me of my dinner. This sort of life I led for five years, and from my life I will positively de duct them. At twenty my father, quite dis gusted with his son, put me on board a ship at Cherbourg. ftwashed the deck, crept up the topmast, mended the sails, and re ceived thirty lashes a day upon my back. This was endured four years. At ' twenty-four my father made Me haber-dasher. I married Mademoiselle Ursule Desvosins, a turner's daughter; her portion consisted of 30,000 livers mortaged upon a sugar estate at St. Domingo. The day after" the wedding I found out that my wife had a. wooden leg, made by my father the turner. The poor woman made a thousand apologies for her infirmity, and I pardoned her out of regard to her mar riage portion. The St. Domingo blacks rose against the whites, burnt the marriage portion, and the wooden leg .was all; that was left to me. At thirty I lost my wife, in consequence of a scrofula disease in her real leg. I spent six years of marriage, repenting every minute. What folly 1 committed in taking that leg 1 therefore I deduct those six years from my life. flay: ns every body else, slept a third part ,' of my life, 1 deduct 24 years of sleep, and I am below the right reckoning, for I was a great sleeper. A year lost, adding minute to minute, in searching for the keys of my desk, which I was continually mislaying. Does ono live when one looks for a key? Three years lost in having myself shaved, powdered, ttc. Five years lost in suffering the toothache, two inflammations of the chest, with relapses and convaleseenco. Three years lost in saying 'What's o'clock?' We have had bad weather to-day." "How do you doo?" ..How is your lads?" "I have had a bad cold." "Marlbtough s'en val-en guerre—what mud in the streets—what n winter flits year!" Six months lost in hav ing the mud brushed off one, and six in brushing one's hat. One year ofenduratice of the entr'actes at the theatre. One year lost in listening to the modern dramas, the chefa uvre of genius not understood. One year lost in complaining of salt and tasteless Soups,of cuilests too much' or un derdone, of indigestion or hard eggs. To. tal 71 years. I beg leave to declare that in giving up the ghost I do not give up any thing worth keeping. DICTIONARY FOR VIE PEOPLE.--Tho fol lowing are extriCis from a popular new work now publishing under this title:— Accomplish►ncnts—(in a lady)—To be able to thump a piano, yawn over a novel, and turn up their nose at any thing approach ing to Usefulness: (In a gent.) to be able to whitra segar, use an eye-glass, and say. "demmit" with a grace. Apology.—An amusing ceremony, which consists in repeating certain offensive ex-. pressions in different language. illuilt.—Thn mind's telegraph. Cabbage.—Toilorti? provender. Cash.—The true Magician's wand. College.—A place:for licensing fools. Compliment.-- A palpable lie. Death.—The I3itiliff General. Ileiny;—An unknown work in an old maid's vocabulary. Pconomy.—Buding a camel hair_ brush to paint a house. L7pitaph.—A . recital of imaginary vir tues. Finis.—The only interesting word in a dull hook. Gen'lcman.—A title of courtesy—mean ing doubtful. Glory.—Wholesale mutilation and mu: der. Grave.—The physician's secretary. ,Hysterics.—A woman's conclusive argu ment. Interesting Creature.—A condemned murderer. Law.—An uncertain and eccentric ma. chine, that net [infrequently destroys him' who sets it in motion. Lawyer,— Synonymous with witty liar, and sometimes so written. Libel.—A disagreeable truth. Merit. --A disadvantage. to a man , 'in search of political preferment. Miser, , —One who lives upon nothing and lays by the half of it. • Nonsense.—Any thing you can't' under stand. Oracle.—Ono who knows less than his neighbors, but has more impudence. Perjury.—An indispensible requisite in a witness on an electioneering petition. &Woe/ion —Standing to be shot at. Shortseihtedness.—An inventive for cutting duns and poor relatives. Cnifer.—A walking dust hole. Tears.—A woman's arguments. War.—Murder on a grand scule. SKETCH OF A PRINTING OFFICE.—Not sound is heard save at times, the slipshod step of a compositor moving across the floor to the foreman's desk for more copy, or the continued click clicking of the types as they fall in the composing stick. The composi tors are stationed at their cases, noiseless and busy as ants. Mark the diversity of figure and expression, and, believe me,thore is a great diversity of talent among them. That thin stooping figure, With sharp face, high nose, and dull eye, has n genius for set ting advertisements. That gentlemanly looking fellow with nn oval border of whis kers, round face, and form, is the orator, wit, and gay Lothario of the establishment, has a genius which the proprietor himself does not disdain to call to his aid. That greasy looking individual, with a bald head, ifyou keep whiskey from him, and him from whiskey, (no easy task - by the bv,) will set a whole column of close typetwithout one typographical error. Marry, sirs, of a Monday morning, his types are strange va• garies. Yon thoughtful gentleman, with his eye stuck in his composing stick, has a head for scheme work, which technical phrase designates what the vulgar call ta bles, Tho paper is up—one by one the compositors have desisted for want of copy. CITE OF DAMASCUS.—There is no city, with the exception of Jerusalem, so 'inter esting as this. It is now an object of notice in the Christian world, on account bf Jew• ish persecutions, It is the oldest city upon the earth, and stands a solitary stately mon. ument, in the midst ofdecay. Babylon and Thebes were, its contempories, but the ton mer has passed away without leaving a trace of its magnificence, and the latter is repre sented only by its standing ruins. Still Damascus-remains, and is now, with the exception of Constantinople, the largest city of the. East. Here are the "Abama and Pharpar, riv ers of Damascus," again calling up the thril. ling story of the Syrian Leper, and the He brew Prophet. Hither Saul, with his re. lentless perseciitings, followed t ha early Christians; and near its walls, "the voice from Heaven" and the "light above the brightness of the sun," arrested his footsteps. r 49460 e;. - PCOc. Zail• ••• . .r.:,, , :• , ....er•••••••. - T...-•;+:, The identity of the.spot has . been preser• ved co this day—tho Christians of the.city using it as a burial place., The traveller . can still Walk through the "street called Straight," and' is shown by the credulous monk, the very house occu pied by Judas, where Saul passed his hours of blindnes4, and where, at the command of Ananias, the eicales dropped from his eyes. So rich is this country in fruits and flow• ers, that . it has been called in all ages, the "Pullen of ..the world." ft .is related of 11oSammed, that when, rifler crossing the desert, lie saw this luxuriant valley, he ex claimed that ho desired but ONE paradise, and therefore would not enter here for fear of forfeiting his interest in the, paradise he anticipated after death, but turned aside withouta close inspection of this tempting scene. Damascus has a peculiar importance, in connection with the progress of Christianity in these parts. It bas always been visited by the Agents of the Bible and Missionary Society. Being the great mart where east ern and western mercliandize is exchanged; the general rendezvous of Islam caravans from the north 'and east in their progress to Mecca; and rendered comparatively a safe residence by the efficiency of Mehemet Ali, it opens one of the most important and ex tensive missionary lam. Another Paul may yet preach Christ in Damascue, and the moral aspect ofthis de lightful country may present as cheering 110 appearance, as the rich display of its craw. ral scenery. PRETTERS' Class of flier:harms, perhaps, suffer more from tho predatory end beoging habits of individuals than printers. They work so hard, invest . . ! so 'much, and furnish their papers so low, that people really seem to think, they.actu ally are worth nothing but to, be given away, or taken without leave. AceordinglY, noth ing is more common than for people, who have the curiosity to rend something that happens to be particularly. interesting,,or who wish to send. a paper to a friend pun token of rememberance, to run Into a print ing Office, and ask for, or take, a paper just out from the press; and if the printer should think of taxing him anything for it, the c.us tomer would think himself quite insulted by the niggardliness of the stingy, printerl With what other mechanics or business-men would people think of takipg the same lib. erties? Go into a grocery and ask the re• toiler to give you a fctir-perice,ha-penny's worth of tea, coffee, or sugor,---end unless You were . really on of ject of eharity- - -he Would probably think himself the one impo sed upon. Or visit bookstore and -make off with halfa dozen sheets of writ ing.pape"r, and most likely the proprietor will pursue his customer with a writ for petit larceny. Go into, a; joiner's shop and ask bins to. give you six cents worth of his Wares, and yon would feel as if you were engaged in a cheap business. And yet people will entera print:- ing office, and take six cents worth of a printer's labor and really think. it ono of that sort of things which should be given away —because the paper is printed. . A clean white sheet he would think too valuable to abstract without pay, and yet it costs .a printer twenty•fivo dollars every week to set up the types that are impressed upon the sheet that make it worthless.. No-t-no--. . . . this is not tho way to do business. If, you want a paper and will not subscribe for it-- as all honorable men do--just step into the office and lying down a silver bit say—" Sir, if you please, let me have ono of your pa. pars and take that in pay for it.'' You will be readily accommodated, and then, be seat ed, (not looking over the shoulders of the compositor to read his manuscript,) or re tire and read.your own paper like a man of good conscience and honorable principl\es. --Maine Cultivator. RENINISENCES OF THE LATE WAR.-A writer in a western paper, who was a staff officer in a volunteer corps, called out by the patriotic proclamation ofGeneral Smith, gives un account of divers causes, other than the love of country, the love of glory, or, the love of fight, which induced men to leave their homes and their friends forthe field of battle and the chances of war. One of these heroes discoursed to the following ef fect: "If Hannah had not been so snappish, and made me du all the milkiti and churnin tew, I should never have been here. She told me she guessed I'd be sorry I'd listed; but she druv me to distraction. I'd be rath er stand the bullets than her etarnal clatter of tongue, knies and forks and tin things. If she is a widder it 's all her own folt. .Tell her I dew dream about her nod the baby sometimes—l kalkalate all things are fore ordained mall eternity, and if I die in . fight, in, I sharit have tho expenses to pny off a long spell of sieloess; good by, Ephraim; you Itan't got no more toliaclierthau will dew you hum, have ye?" WASTE OF HEAT.--A writer in the N.Y., Journal of Commerce states that black or dark jambs absorb heat, instead of reflecting t. The use of iron backs to fireplaces it" `whicti wood is burned, bus the efFect to in. Crease tho consumption of fuel without soy advantage. When the. iron becomes hot, it will buil) up the wood, and when the fire is extinouished the fire at once loses its heat. Brickbats ore pit to every thing els° for tiro placrs; titer do not boat t' such it degree as to burn the fuel, nod When once heated retoin the heat I, , rig,r than any oth• or substavee etrept wood It: irk bal k logs are preferable to wood. ori e score of both CCollilfte" y and comfort.