DY 4 0v. 331a,1x.•
VOLUMI XVII.
, , •
- -
_ •
I care mot for the rising storm,
I do not heed the cold,
Nor listen to the angry wind
That roars around the world.
•
I only know my journee's o'er,
--For-just ahead .1 see
The light thatiells my Hl* wife
—ls weiting-there-for-me—,
My gentle•wife l my darling wife !
My soul's own joy and_pridei
Tan thousand blessings on the d
W ben you became my bride.
-rye-never-known-a weary hour-
Since I have held your hand
wou jot-f. ange-my-wor
-,Fur any-in the land.
Olreweetly - fronrher - lovin - r,lip
The bfissfuLweleome falh !
There is no happiness forme
Outside our. humble walls.
Ali I sad indeed would be my heart,
And dark the world Would be
If not for this dear, little - wife •
That ever waits for me.
THE GIRDS!. .
, The welcome ; ewers are ossonung..
In joyous twain revealed;
They lilt their dewy *buds and bells,
Iu garden, iriesd, and fielu.
They-lutk-itrevery - sunless - path -
Where forest children tread;
The dot like stare the uttered turf
Which lies above the dead.
•
They sport with every playful wind
That aura the blooming trees,
And laughs in every fragrant bush,
All Jun otteiling bees..
From the gruenf lake and Weave,
Freak vale and mountain soil,
They look in gentle glory forth,
The pure meet &won; of (iod
-
MISi~7~s7r.,~.~I~.TY.
-7 -- . - The Beloved Wile.
• otuau be sure that she is ire-
mous to her husband—nut useful, not valu
able, not convenient simply, but lovely and
beloved; let her be the recipient al his po
int auu hearty sue - 1160ns; let her feel •that
her love and care are noticed, appreciated,
and returned, let her opinion be asked, her
approva
uu in, matters of which She is cognizant; in
short, let her only be loved, honored, and
chcrislied infultillwent of the mariage vow,
and site will be to her husband, and her
children, and society, a *ell•spritiA of pleas
ure. She will bear pain,l , Mil toil, and auxi
..ety; far bet husband's love is to her a tower
and a fortress. Shielded and sheltered there.
adversity will have loot its sting. She
may sutler, but sympathy may dull the edge
of her sorrow. A house wi th love in it--
oapd in worde
.1 - 1110ou love expresso in wore S,
nod looks, and deeds, fur 1 have no t one
spark of faith iu the,love that never crops
out—ia to a ,house
. withuat love as a person
to u tuuehineithe - offejiteitke o er woe tun-
'oman may have broad just
just as tidy as the other ;
a spring of beauty abuut
Tli
as lil
but
her,, an aggressive, and pone
slating, and pervading brightness, to • which
the former is a stranger. The • happiness in
her heart shines out in her face. She is a
ray of sunlight in the house. She gleams
al► over it. It is airy, and gay, and graceful
sod warm, and welcuming.with her presence.
She is full of devices, and plots, and sweet
surprises fir her husband and bsily. , She
has never done with the romance and poetry
of lite. She is herself a lyric poow. setting
herself to all pure and gracious melodies.—
iluintile household ways and duties have for
her a golden significance. The prize wakes
the culling higher, and, the end dignifies the
aueaus. tier acme is. a paradise, nut sinless
nut painless,,hut still a• paradise; fur ;'love is
heaven, and heaven is love."
Friiandship
' The heart yearns for friendship. Cold ,
and drear indeed is the world to him who
has not a . friend. He may - have - wealth,
position, honor; but what arc they all t.b
him who feels that he is surrounded by
mercenaries. He loathes the sycophants
who crowd.and applaud and crown him in;
the sunshine of prosperity, knowing that in
a reverse of his circumstances they would
:Amodio him. We pity the child of mis
fortune, who is pinched by poverty, and
I sustains a meagre saistenceat fearful odds;
.but 'the favorite of fortune, who enjoys not
the 'kind offices of true friendship, is still
more to be pitied.
Yet it is one's own fault if he has not
friends Cold and selfish'as the world is, so
haw as human nature is what it is, no one
needs to be friendless. The reason why one
Alas so many friends, rind another so few or
- none, is vasily accounted for. lie who would
hive :friends, must show himself friendly.—
Let any one seal the fountains of his sywpa
lhy for
thy for tut*
--friendsl by
Ariendship. Let one have.a generous na are
a kind and loving heart, and he . will ave
iriands say where, uader,any eironmsta ea.
Ile may be penniless, among strangers; but
there mill (some to .his help those who would
share with him .the last morsel, and for his
welfare even peril their Jimi*—,Alunsiny'
, If woman could, telk out of the two cor
ners of her month atilt same time there
'would 'be a good deal nald on both aides.
THE ,WOOF-OF LIFE
Sweetly sang the morning stars, heralding
the rosy dawn and arrowy sunbeams . that,
glancing in golden light over the dewgemm
ed•earch, wakened its dwellers from slumber
tdthe activity of life. '
Within a quiet dwelling, on a shore - of a
lake whose rippling surface is ;1--'
t e reflection of golden lighka mother clasps
the frail form of an infant son to ber bosom;
raising her heart in prayer to, God that his
life may be useful and happy—such a life as
-ill fit the immortal soul for,a\home of eta
,al light and joy. Low bending from above
s a beautiful angel clothed in garments -- cif
urity, aria the silver radiance of its Wings
versliadows the new-born babe with a halo
if_gtia - rdian lover The web of the life just
,egua_stretehesortal
, the itumortal_beyond the shores-of---time,-
nd as with prophetic eye the guardian an
:el sees the dark, silver and golden threads,
of -of-of-hfr
sei—wovenr - into — iti
she breathes a vow to shield it from danger ;
and music, sweet-toned as a 'seraplo
- Eras out upon.the soft air, as on sitining
wing she soars to heaven to write the name
of that babe in the book of immortal lite.
Chileshood is past, and youth has come.
The woof of life has only silver and golden
threads, with here and theica shadowy tint,
while he whom we saw so frail and helpless
in his mother's arms; now, with noble aspi
rations, looks forward, seeing.only threads, of
orighter - aua sire enduring hue. The sky
above him is calm and shining, and flowers
grow on either side of his pathway, while
that sweet angel spreads above him her over
.
shadowing_wings.-
Eine moves on with noiseless step—nobly
he enters upon the arena of active life, and
into the woof of life is weaving a name that
futuie generations shall repeat and bless. It
is a . summer's eve, and within the room
where he first opened his eyes upon the light
of life he sits by the couch of ler who kind
ly cured and loved him in infancy and child
ho3d, and with moistened eye watches fOr
her lamp of life_to_go_aut. Then,there are
dark threads iu the wool of life, but the an
' gei wings that overshadowed him on the day
of his birth are hoiering Over him still.
Again aro - the golden threads in the woof
of life. He stands before the altar with her
whom he has ehosen.to be the triP. -
tap and utters the responses that bind two
wtl hearts in bonds stronger and more
enduring than his life., Again the beauti•
tul angel bends low, whispering ot a home-of
peace and love, and he walks the earth with
a happy, trusting heart, while the threads
that of life are only silver
and gold.
Years are gone. There are many darkly
hued threads mingled in the woof of these
years; here and there are dark tints where,
the simoon breath ot disappointment swept
across his pathway—a darker thread, as a
beautiful immortal exotic, that had bloomed
awhile in his home, was exalted to heaven,
in its native clime, leaving a memento both
as bright-as the noonday sun, and dark as
midnight, while a lonely mound tells us
where rests tie mortal casket.
Silver locks shade his brow, but his arm
is strong to protect her whu has walked by
his ride for many years, and hopefully_ strug,
les to hid - eh - et buck from the, embrace o
the Angel of Death. In vain he hopes—
the loved form he presses to his heart be
comes pulseless and cold. In that dread
hour ot darkness'he is nut alone—the angel
is near, acd onze more folding him in her
shining wings, tells him ot that other life,
upon another shore where hearts severed
way be re-united; only a little while—the
wavering ot a few more threads in the woot
ot life—and he, too, will no longer walk life's
pathway. •
From - the'windows of a -dwelling a light
streams out in the still midnight darkness.
'Within a wear torn is restin! on a low
couch, the eye dittnnedi by four-score years
wanders from one to another of the group
around, and us the hand of a fair grandchild
puts buek the .snow-white hair from the thin,
furrowed brow, on Whibh the dew of death is
gathering, and kisses the sunken cheek, his
wind wanders back to that golden morning
when before the altar, and he repeats the
name of her who, with him, there pledged
their vows.
The beautiful angel that has followed him
through life, is with kitit 'in the hour of
death—the Silvery briglittiess_oVher_wiegs
overshadows him; yet still he lingers upon
earth's cold shore, 'tit the morning-stars
pale in the eastern sky, and the golden sun
light glances over the dew-gemmed earth.-
The lust thread in the woof of life is woven,
and the guardian angels ads its win a ~to
guide the freed immortal to von! owe,
while strains ut seraphic music never heard
by mortal ears welcome another dweller to
that clime whore no dark reads are woven
iu the golden woof of life, t 6eyond the river
of death.
A Murmur. Wrzu.—One afternoon in
June, 1860, 1 was seated at an open window
beneath which, upon the verdant lawn, were
playing some hell dozen children of both sex
es. Suddenly, one bright little fellow ex
claimed, "Oh, how 1 wish I was a soldier."
"And I, and I," echoed two littlecurly
heads. '.And I should like to , be a queen,"
suid a girl of five summers, with dark Lair
and eyes. "I should like to be a lady like
mama,' said a little sister of the letter.—
'.And 1," suid a boy Oscura four years, who
was somewhat apart front the rust, a par
puny child, with , light, flowing hair framing
a face with large blue eyes, "1 would like to
bo an angel," '
0. beautiful wish ! Little boy, yon win ; be
an angel, for !lee it written in your, pale,'
sweet. flmce I Some might you will repeat
your little prayer, softly, "Now I lay ..me
down to sleep," and .iesue .4411__yoiLto
Him, and year wish •wil 1.41 grunted.
.IPirtaixalar .I!:elikhEsp4:rema s .IWeetztvell in politic ns eutasa
WA.YNESBORO',, FRANKLIN COUNTY, PENNSYLVANIA, rimy tVIORNING, JUNE 12, 1883,
"A Keerful Shepherd."
Oa Friday, a tall, raw-boned Saint, with
a complexion 'strongly resembling that of
boiled tripe, arrived in Cincinnati from Pitts
burg with a couple of wives, but deeming
his flock too'small to start Salt Lakeward
with, held forth as follows, to an : admiring'
audience-, at-a-hp...a over the canal, .. 'ill a
view to the perfection; of the material neces
sary to , the completeness of his domestic fe
licity. His text was, "Men is skeerce and,
weemen is pl r ent,y." ' • - i
Brothers and -Sistern-4ertickler th Sig-1
tern—l want to say a few words to you a- 1
bout - Mormonism—not for m y . own make but
for yoinn,-for=men-is skeeree and- weemen is
plenty. -
' Mormonism is bmilt on that hiL
ciple - which sez that it ant good for a man
-to-be alone ,, and a mighty ,site worse for a
woman. Therefore , a
-if man feels, good
with a Hu' . _
-- o - u - ghTffnake hum. tfßil an awful aigTitliet
ter.
-fit st-prtneiples--of-Norrnonisnr-iFti
that ; woruan'air a good thing, and the sec
ond principles is, that you can't have too
much of a-good thing. Women "is tenderer
than man, and is neeetisarily to smooth down
.the roughness of his character, anti as a man
has a good many rough pints in his natur,
he' oughtn't to giVe one woman too much to
do, but sot each woman to work smoothing
some partickler_pin
Don't think I'm over anxious for you to
jine us, for I aint. I'm not speakin' for
my good,. but for yourn, formals 4 skeeree
and weenten 4 plerd,y.
-1 - said - womelt - waiFtiFnclerer than man,
you needn't feel Stuck up about it, for so
she aught to be ; she was made so a purpose.
But how was she made so? Whar did she
git it from? Why, she was created out of
the side bone of a man, and the side bone
of a man is like the side none of a turkey—
the tenderest part is the side bone of a tur
key—the tendorest part of him. Therefore,'
a woman has three lido bones'and a man on
ly one ;of course - she:Li - three - tines' - as ten
der as 'a man is, anti is in duty bound to
repay that tenderness of which sho rAbed
him. And how did she rob him of his side
bone? Why, egsactly as she robs his pock
ets now-a-days of his loose change — she, took
But as woman i§ more tenderer than man,
so is man more forgivener than woman;
therefore I won't say anythmg more about
the side bone, or the small change,- but in
vite you all to jine my train, fur I'm a big
she . herd out our wa audiare_sum
ly every day on purple and fine linen
When I tirst landed on the shores of
Grout Salt Lake, I wasn't rich in women
fur I had but one poor old yoe, but men is
ekeerce and weemert is plenty, and like a
keerful shepherd I began to increase my
flock. Wennen heard of . us and our loviu'
ways, and they kept pourin' in. They
come from the North, and they come from
the South, they come from the East, and
they come from the West, they come from
Europe., they come_from_Ashey-,-and-a-few
on 'em come from Afrikey, and from bein,
the miserable owner of one old yoe ' I be
come the joyful shepherd of a mighty flock,
-with_ a right-smart pri n klite - of lambs, -fri.
kior and tatter than anybody else's, and I've
still got room for a few more.
As L said before, I'm not talkin' partiok
ler for my benefit, but for you'l—fur men
is skeerce and weemen is piety —Still, I'd a
leetle rather you'd go along with me than
not, pertick:er you tut one with a calkker
sunbonnet. Don't hesitate but take the
chance while you can git it, and I'll make
you the "bell yoe" of the flock. rll lead
yuu through the green pasture and high
grass, show you where you may caper in the
sunshine and.lay down in pleasant places;
and, as you shah be the fattest of the flock.
Jine_in, jine in_;-jine-in-my trainr-jine-it
now, fur sisen is b/ceerce and weemen is plea-
The appeal was irresistible. At last
accounts the "fat woman with the maker
sunbonnet" had "jined in," and two or three
others were, on the fence, with a decided
leaning toward the " 'iced's) Shepherd.
Short Dialogue.
Copperheati.—Well, you soldiers had to
pay your fare from Harrisburg to Lancaster,
utter you were disebarged.
Returned Soldier.—Yes, the railroad cotu
pauy charged eighty carts.
Copperhead—nut is a. d—d outrage
and a government that will make the sol
dier pay his own fare after discharging him,
.is nut worth' fighting ter and ought to break
up.
Returned Soldier.—You're the kind of
men We. beard of down iu the army called
"Copperheads?' and 1 want Es, to under
stand that you have got to lake that back or
get your head punched We were paid
the eighty cents by the paymaster, and 1 am
ready to tight for it ag ain , and Joe Hooker
is a good tireneral, and nod—d copperhead
'dare tell we this government, is not worth
fighting for.
{Mr Cepperhead t got out of .the, way of
the fists that .were coming in 'rather close
prox.wity to his nose, and lett without
any turphor ceremony.— Lancaster Exam
incr.
GOOD—Ad Englishman, had heard of the
Yanlreo habit of bragging, and thought he
would 'out the comb of chat
. 2ropensity. lie
maw some huge watermelons on a, market-wo
man's stand, and, walking up to her and
peinti to than with a look of disappoint
men d i li
'W at I don't you raise bigger apples 'than.
if
*me in America r
The wounin looked at him one • maaent
and retorted i . . . ••,
,'
"Apples , ! Anybociy might know you was
An Eugintatuan Vrhogo's huckloborrieb
SCENE ON THE CORNER OF - `THIRD AND MAR-
'lle following dialogue tweaked this mor
ning between two soldiers just paid and die
..
First Soldier-" Nell, Ned, we-have got
our green-backs, and we have won a little
reputation as soldiers, so that we can now
go home with satisfaction and be certain of
an honorable welcome at the hands of our
friends and relations."
Second Sb/dier. 7 -"Home Igo home, did
you-say. Bill ?"
First Soldier.—"To be sure I said home.
Ain't you going home ?"
Second Soldier. "No I Let me tell you
why I t gng ho
ain't going Lhav e as pretty a
home as there is on the banks of the Lehigh
—lk i v e broths 'n.
11 old trio-
- te - iiirr - w - F. - olit - 1 - 10 - Ve — rt ad - Whir - air liehtififill;
with a mother who loves me and whom I
-adore-,-"ltuti"-an d-theitold ier-hung-his-head
in shame, "my father is a bitter Copperhead.
I have a letter in my pocket from ono of my
sisters, in which she writes, that father has
become so odious irt -the neighborhood for
his treason sympathy, that he is shunned by
his neighbors and despised by all his former
friends. I cannot go home to share that
disgrace. I will attempt to preserve the
_name_Lbear_from_dishonor_A_re.enlisting
and fighting. in defence of the Government
which my father is .attempting to disgrace
rand dishonor." The soldier, evidently mov
ed by stirring emotions, left his companions
and was sooinciticilithe crowd whifth-th-elf
occupied the side-walks.
We trust the Lather of that brave boy may
yet feel some pang for . his treason sufficient
ly strong to change his malignity.. And
may his sun, thus driven from his home. to
find love and duty in the ranks of the glo
rious defenders of his country, some day
find the'hotue of his childhood cleansed of
all that is treasonable and cowardly, and be
welcomed to it by the smiles' of his mother
and brothers and sisters whom he so sincere•
ly loves.—Har. Tel.
Rules for , Using the Tongue.
The, tongue is milieu in the Bible "an un-
perfectly with the saying of. litiky Writ, and
observations on the' tongues of others have
satistied,us of the fact. We think the fol
lowing rules, it earetully followed, will -be
found of great use iu taming that which has
not yet been perfectly tamed :
1. seer use your tongue in speaking a
nything tut truth.—The God of Truth, who
made the tongue, did not intend it for any
other use. It will not work well in false
hood, as it will • run into such inconsistencies
as to detect itself. To use the organ for
publishing falsehood, is us incongruous as
the use of the eye for hearing or the car for
smelling.
2. 1)' not use =
not use your tongue too much.--It
is a kind of waste-gate to let off the thoughts
_as_they_ealleet_autLespand-the-tu-indt-but-it
the waste-gate is always open, the. water will
soon run shallow. Dishy people .use their
tongues too much. Shut the gate, and let
,streani9 of thought-flow-in-till--thu
full, and then you way let off with soma ef
fect. •
3. Never let the strewn of puevion move,
the tongue.—Some people, when they are a
bout to put this masher in motion, hoist the
wrong gate; they let out Passion instead of
Reason. tuugue then tuakei a great
noise, disturbs the quiet of the neighbors,
exhausts the person's strenght, but does no
good. The whirlwind has ceased, but what
is the benefit ?
4..,L00k into the pond, and see there is
water enough to move the wheel to any pur
pose before-you open the gate; or ptaibly,
-think-before-you-spealt.
5. Never put the tongue in motik white
your respondent has his in Notion.— The twc,
streams will meet, and the reaction, will be
so great that the words of ueithor will reach
the other, but come back in a blinding sprin
kle upon hitesell.
6 See that your tonyne_is_hung true before
you use it.--Sutue tougues we have observed
are so hung that they sometimes equivocate
considerably. Let the owners of such turn
the screw ut conscience -until the tongue
moves true.
- 7... Expect that others will we their tongues
for what you. du sfuers.--;-Solue claim the
privilege of reporung all the news,, and
chitrge °suers out to do se.—Your neighbor
will nut allow you to monopolize the • busi ,
nese. If y..m have .;uy thing to be kept see.
tut, keep it to yuurseil.
There is no truth more firmly established
among•Redical men than that diseases follow
fashion aonuch as bonnets do. When thin
slippers prevail, consumption is the prevail
ing epidemic with females in every , fashion
able community of the country. When low
neck frocks are aseenciant . sore throat and
quinsy are the raging maladies. When 'bus
tles' and 'bishops .• made their appearance,
spinal affections became 'the ton
reign of corsets is denoted collapsed lungs,
dyspepsia, and a general derangement of the
digestive 'organs. Indeed, so intimately are
(4084 and diseases connected, that a doctor
says that,all he needs to determine what a
ntsjoritY.of the women , are dying of, ie ,t.
•have,aninventory of their wardrobe handed
to Aim.. .
• . , ,
- The Carbonado Advance says, that a tody
of fourteen yours end a girl of twelve, or
Dundafiborougb, county. recently worn mar=
ried, and left for parts unknown. • Theca
"babes in the woods". had doubtlesit heard
of the.wotto : "Go it while you're young."
There ia.a famil y in V . , l3rrount so lun
,yy, 0114,
it whoa two of them to, .holi (do
wood. Sittit.Aohit while Jim ; grunts, and
thou fifr a.tut uh JIM ttud Slab
-rutty.
Interesting •Dialogue
KET STREETS
Th 3 True 'test of Demociraoy
Amos Kendall's name is' perhaps as inti
mately ihciontified with the• Jackson demos:
racy of this country, as any other man that
ever claimed Smut:nation: • A recent letter:
from him, addressed to a copperhead editor,
contains the following nosle and lo •al send-
the juvenile speakeF down - as au many%) phi
losopher. What inure could•Solotuou have
said on the occasion ?,'Prue, he has put 'it
upon record "that "a soft answer turneth a
'ray wrath ;" and this being. taken as true—
and everybody knows it,to be so—it is evi
dence in iltvor of the superiority of the law.
of kindness over that .of wrath. But" our
street philosopher Said pretty much the same
thing substantially when •he said, "Don't
speak so cross;, there's au use in it." On
the contrary,. it invariably 'does much harm.
Is a man angry ? It_inflaines:his ire still
-more, antreTorilirms in his enmity him who
-ground-fa . .-- 7 , rengeauve against b,/ a kind 'id a gentle , d
•
"The Demooritie party, has, for half a
century, witnessed the rise and fill of so
many other parties, always maintaining the
honor of its name.. Its vital principle has
been devotion o e Constitution and. the
Union But for the wanton rebellion of the
Cotton states, it would bow be die ruling
party-in Congress and the country. Your
call the Southern conspirators' our brothels.
,
SO'was Cain Abel's brother. Shall we stop
and cry peace, while the club of the fratricide
is aimed at our heads, and his bowie knife
at our throats ? Shall_our.unresisting---blood
►nuiderers 11101;43 than Cain—Murderers who
would kill a natitin in the persons of their
• rothers=trai • rs - ncitorrly - tot reir country,
but to the cause of liberty .in all time and
throughout the world. -
"Democrats! No, they are no. Democrats.
The shades of Jefferson and Jackson disown
them. They mistake their proper nanie and
their true homes. They are the white slaves
of King Cotton, and their 'true home is in
his presence. — Let -them go to the Cotton
States and-flaunt-their--peace—iiags — in — tWe
presence their king. Lot them get up a
peace . party there who are willing to live in
peace under our benign Constitution and
the will then be ma ionded to b • all true_
•
lemmata of thEN - or ' t .
Some, men, in 'their teal for party, seem
to forget that they have a country, and that
the President, to whatever party he may
belong, is the representative of that country.
What if you or Ido not like some of the
principles of Mr. Lincoln, or approve of the
moans by
. whichhe was elected 7 Still, he
is our country's President, and if to sustain
our country in the discharge of the tremen
dous responsibilities which depend upon him,
be sometimes excereises doubtful. powers or
violates the letter of the law, shall we there
fore abandon the cause of . our country by
withdrawing from him the men and money
necessary fur • its defence ? Sher'
:urt er,uspou.smg t e cause of the enemy,
and throw every obstruction in the way of our
own „Government ? It so, th e traitor's
doom and the hangman's halter would be
our just reward. Let us save our country
first, and then call its rulers to account
for any unneceessnry—usurpation - uf
It were madness in the crow of a sinking'
ship to deprive their commander of the
phwer to save it. It is madness to . quarrel
about the Administration of our Govern-•
merit until we - make sure that we shall
have a Government to administer."
The Judgment of Solomon.
We are all familiar with the Bible story
of the judgment of Solomon. Two_women_
olaimed,one child. Each protesied that the
infant was her own. To ascertain which re
ally had a mother's sacred maim to the treas
ure he ordered the ohild_to be cutin_two_an.
divided between them. The spurious moth
er readily consented, but the real mothei de
manded all - or none. She wanted' her living,
full proportioned babe, and would not wit
ness such a spectacle as its mutilation.
Can the observant sue no resemblance be
tween
this judgment of Solomon in ancient
story, and the judgment of Providence now
being enacted in the political history of the
United States ? The North and the South
both claipi the American Union ; each asserts
that the 'Union is its legitimate offspring.—
"Divide it between them I" Fate seems to
my, in order• to test the maternal feelings of
the- separate—claimantsw-- "I—am—content,"
exclaims the South. 'give me half the mu
tilated Union, and I go." But what says the
North ? 'The
.Udion, one and indivisible!' is
her outcry. 'Ad or none! No mutilation of
this glorious. Union I' Which would Solo
mon have called the real mother under such'
circumstances? Nature's voice is tau loud
and distinct to be mistaken.
We confess that we earnestly partake of
this northern sentiment. We love the U
nion too much to see it divided. We know
that death must follow-such a division—and
our hearts are poised with the prospect of
a death which, it we are but true to our
selves and our principles, can be so easily a
voided.. The Union mast Rot be dismem
bered. We-claitult entire. 'We claim it in
all its fair proprtions, as we , have seen it
grow up unuer our fostering care; and we
cannot consent to see'it deprived of even a
limb'to gratify the clamorous 'shout of a
party which actually desires the Union's
dissolution. Wo insist upon it that it is a
patriot's duty to enact, on this occasion, the
true mother's rule in tne judgment of Solo
mon, and there can be no doubt as to the re
sult. Let us muster up all our strength.—
Let us put forth alt our energies. Let u.s
'cry aloud, and spare not,' in our determina
tion to sage' the Wiled the Republic. Let
um do this, and trig to the voice of Nature
to make our appeal invincible.
ITHE CLERGY AND SLAVERY.--Nearly
t• °wand - eltirgyoum of .li.loglantt anu
France have.uoiteu to au expressiuu of sen
timent agniust the Blavo Aristocracy of the
Sguth. They regurd the Jeff Davis gov
ernment, based as it is' on Slavery, as,at.war
with ohristianity; they say "it dishonor's
Uhristf" This . ts the view of the 'Octribr r ,
Once of the Metodist. Church 'athicitt
ooetly assembled at' West Chester
the vittri'of the ehristiau outside at'
I tha iehol
, • states7extiept umeng ,the 7 4 ,Toti,-
parlitiattr 'of , the', kitirtk ' The
. '"eopper-'
heads" Stand:alone' with Ho allies' but 06'
iristoorats'X'the South the iiititniteliistr;'
eilltirope • = '
ti £,~~.~ ' , ..
troalt-
"Dciri't 'be gb Cross:"
,
"Don't EiPeiik so' Oroas !" said one little boy
in the street to another. "Don't speak so
cross; there's no 'se in it !" We happened
to be,pasaing at the time, awl hearing the
injunetion,, or rather the exhortation- - -tor it
wat4 made 'in ; ; 1 • ; •
mud word and a gentle cud p elgiug
demeanor, might be converted into a trie,nd.
It is, in fact, an addition of fueLte tl►e flame
t.llEd ---- y kindled And what do you gain by
it ? Nothing desirable, certainly, unless dis
cord, ottife, contention, hatred, malice and
uncharitableness be desirable . The buy
spoke the "words of truth and Soberness
when he, said, "don't speak so cross; there's
no use in it.
Copperhead 'Logic.
tgTiT - York Copperhead why
be sighs for peace at any price, he will tell
,you that New York has lost the Southern
trade by the war, and will never ,recovet it
_if_it_h_protracted,—)Ayou—ntake—tl-e—sain
inquiry in Illinois, you mill learn that corn
brings only ten cents a bushel, and that
freight to'the seaboard is dluble 'what it
was. If you ask in Connecticut, you are
told that the - carriage trade is suffering, and
thatrthem is a glut of clocks and brogan S—
. you usk in Pennsylvania, you are inform
ed that Davis' manners and appearances are
better tlidn Lincoln's and that niggers are
an inferior race. Aud soon throughout the
country. The malcontent wishes- to break
up the nation, because of the personal in
convenience to which the war subjects him;
another, because he has not, been consu.ted
in choice of countiander•iii-ehief; another,
becaus, , i , • , -
skillful :.
er ' because the enemy is brave ,Md andad another, because lie has a vague fear.
that emancipation will lead to matrimonial
alliance on a grand scale between freed ne
groes and white ladies.
Theu there is uuuther class of Copper.
I• . •. o arc sue 'ruin 'pure cussedness.'
They are Copperheads by instinct; and to
such the Irish poet said must truly that
"The trail of the serpen6 is all over them."
BEAUTY OF Tgg - SKY.—It is a strange
thing how little in general people know a
bout the sky. •It is the part of creation in
which nature has done more for.tho sake of
pleasing man, more for the sole - andinTidcut
purpose or talking to him and teaching him
than in an other of her works • and it is
just the part in which we least attend to her
There are not Many of--her other works in
which some more material or essential pur
nose than the mere leasintz of Ina .•
atmwered by every part of their organization;
but 'every essential purpose of the sky might -
as far as we know, be answered, if o nce in.
three . days, or thereabouts, a great black-ug
ly rain cloud were broken up over the blue,
and everything well watered, and so all left
blue again till uext time, with perhaps a
film of woruing•and evening mist for dew.—
But instead of this, there is not a moment
of any day of our lives whoa uaturc is nut
produeinw b scene after scene; picture after
picture, glory after glory, and working still
upon - Blloll.exquisite and constant principles
of the most perfect beauty ; that it is glutei
certain-it-is all done-for - tisiand intended - for --
our perpetual pleabure.-r-Joita le ask.
RranosruorroN.—So much of our early
gladness vanishes utterly from our memory,
we can never recall the joy with which we
laid our heads on our mother's bosom, or
rode on our father's, back in childhood;
doubtless that joy is wrought up iu our na
ture, as the sunlight of long past mornings
is wr. ught up into the soft mellowness, of'
the apricot; but it is gone forever from our
imagination, and we can on'y believe in the
joys of 9hildhood. But the first glad mo
ment id our first love is a vision which re
turns to us
,to the last, and brings with it a
'thrill of feeling and 'special as the
recurrent sensation cf a sweet utior breathed
in a far-off ho u r of happiness. It is
a memory that gives a more exquisite touch
to tenderness; that feeds the madness of
jealousy, and adds the last , keenness to the
agony of despair. _
THE EARTH.—The hollow ball par which
we live contains within itself the .elements
of its destruction. i Within the outer crust
ti r
—the cool' temperature of which supports
animal and vegetable life, and soliditie the
stone, coal and metal° ores so impor at to
our well being—there exists a mass of fluid
igneous matter Some of this matter oo
casionally escapes through the mouth of a
volcano or makes its presence felt .4 au
earthquake.; but-neither the earthquake nor
the volcano are necessary to prove that fire:
exists in'the"eurtii - At the depth of 2480
yards; water beils : load welts ut the depth
of 8497 yards.—Thorn is eyed heat at the
depth of seven miles, .and if we adopt the
temperature as calculated .from Morveau'a
corrected scale of Wedgeworth's pyrometer,
Ive find that the earth is fluid at the depth
'Orone himared miles: . .
A few days since General' Roseerans was
dining with his Staff' atone of , oar hotels.'
He unfortunately' tasted the" Tennessee.:• but
.ter; whea l , ho immediately arose au& saluted
Loam 11.1tsi.
t hit V.LNitig OUL-444i:6 tho •• • 4
NUMBER 10