ONE. DOLLAR A -- Y-EAR IN .A_DATANCE.] AND LITERARY REGISTER.
my-oERIES;
GEC. W. SCHEME, Editor and PulAsher.
.o,lft - eta-front . Street, three doors itbo 4"o"Loeitst:
Tenser. —The Counsels Set , Publisheirovery
linturday morning nt the low price of ONE DOLLAR A
YEAR IN ADVANCE, or one dollar and fifty rents, I
pot paid within one month of the time or subscribing.
single copies, THREE CENTS.
.Tenses or Ai:tyranny ea—Advertisement's histiiexceed:ii
log a square three times for $l. ancl.os cents foristach
additional Insertion. 'I hose of a greater lengthin'pro
;nation. - sSA liberil discount mdde to„yeartyadyer
sleets.
Joe Paisnilso—tt •ir
Cords, LabeilL,..Pamphlets, Blanks of- every,descriptiop
Ore ut are, etc: ote..e 'nay te d with ncatness and despatch
and on reasonable towns.
trEe.'I I ,6I7I7I4ISEND'S
QIESAPARILLAS :Wonder 'and blessing et the
, a g e—The most oittrotortliiiiiymedieineitiMie world:
This Extract is put up in quart bottles. _ Itrie six times
cheaper. pleasanter. and warranted superior To stik'sold.
It cures diseases without - vomiting, purging,. sicken ing,
or debilitst ing tits patient.
The arrat beauty and sups:Wily of this Sarsaparilla
over a ileth'er rehredai In. while it eradice ter d tsetse; It
iuytgorates the body, It In Mtn of t he eery best_.
•
SPRING AND SUMMER MEDICINES
Ever known; it not only purifies tliti'whole4yitem and
strengthens the person; hat it creates new, pure, and
rich blood; a power possessed , by no other mediein
And in tills lies the great secret of Its wonderful success.
Townsend'* Sarsaparilla Invigorates the whole
system permanently,To those who have lost their mus
tufarenergy by the Effects of medicine or indiscretions
committed in youth, or the excessive indulgence of the
passions, and brought ort_a_eeneral prnstration of the
nervous system, lassitude, want of ambition. fainting
sensations, premature decay and decline, hastening
towards that fataildrsease, Consumption. can be entirely
restored by this pleasant roinedy.
The geeuine only sold by It. WIMUAIRS, Front. st.
Colurnble„ Pa. _ Ap29'o3-tf
BIIIVIONTILL REMOVAL U .
IL W SPANGLER, baying become Proprietor
of the Book & Stationary Store, late of the firm of
Westbrook & Spangler, has removed Isis establishment to
the house lately occupied by Mr. Raub on Front Street, a
few doors north from the Corner of Locust, and next door
to Wm. A Leader's Drug store,—where he will continue
the former business in all its branches. Having enlarged
his ittocks he is prepared to furnish every article in the
.Boals,and stationary line, at the very lowest rates; School
Books of everykind, Blank Books, Fools Cup and Letter
Paper by the wholesale or retail. Pocket Knives, Razors,
GOLD Pctss. Pocket Books, Combs, Hair. Tooth. and Cloth
Brushes—Razor Strops, Soap, Brushes, Sc. Ink Stands,
Ink by the Bottle—Dominoes, Chess Men. Dice. A splen
did Icit'of Silk, Steel Bends. Clasps and Tassels, for purses,
Gold and Silver Bullion—for Working Slippers, &e. And
n Most superior lot of fancy stationery for the Ladies.—
Bouts forget the CheariDepot. at
'W. li. SPANGLER'S,
Next Door to W. A. Leader's Drug Store.
•
BMICOVILIa.
THE UNDERSIGNED takes this medium to in
farms his friends and the public thathe has removed
*his TAILORING ESTABLISHMENT, to within one
O6llllt OF THE CORVSR of LOCUST STREET. and having reco•
vered his healtsao as to be able to attend to IntidlieS3
tvonid respectiolly invite his customers to give him a call,
feeling well assured from the liberal patronage that he
has heretofore received, that he will be aide to give sans.
faction to all who - may feel disposed to give hint their
work. He would not bay that lie is the only one in the
place who can make good work, not wishing thus to puff
himself itO notice but would assure the public that work
entrusted to him shall be executed in a neat fubhionable
mid substantial Manner. He keeps constantly on hand a
fine assortment of Cloths, Cassirneres Vestings, which
will'be sold at very small advances. -
J. W. FISHER.
N. D. I have %large stock of ready made CLOTHING
winch I will bell at prime coat. .1. W. F.
April et?, 1549.
IEL EIVZOVELL.
rfliE Tutoring Establishment of B. Yon& has
in
been moved up stairs the Barbershop, opposite the
Itshington lintel. et which place he may be found at all
times. ready to do work in the neatest and best style for
all-114W may give him a call, as he neendtrto devote his
whole :mention to dressing the community in the most
perfect style of the tiny. Having received a lithe different
reports, he Clatters himself he is the only one in the place
able to do so. B. YOUNG.
P. S. He will at all times be prepared to give instrue
flail+ in cutting gaimems to any of the trade. so much in
rear that may disable them to come up to the age, and
stands open agamst:al I publishers of systems for investiga
tion. No more, but hope to cet n spat.
It. YOUNG. of Columbia,.
. _
8. lwrilvo:v, of Nlttiittll3
Columbia. April S,
10,ARGAINS. The subscribers have, during the
_Li past week, made a large addition to their former
stock or
—FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC DRY GOODS, ' --
which, for elegance and cheapness, cannot he surpassed.
Among which is a very large nss.ortment of PRINTS. nt
4 eta. Of cts. 8 cis, 10 et& and 12k cts per yard. DRESS
GINGHAMS as low us 0.4 cts, 19 cts, and 25 cts. Al
pacas and Linens. Lustre.. A general assortment of
FURNISHING GOODS,
Such as 4-4, 64. 6-4, and 10.4 Blenched and Brown Sheet
ing& Ticking, Checks, Crash, Latest and Cotton, Brown
and Bleached, Table Diapers, &c.
• - - GENTLEMEN'S DRESS GOODS.
Sup. Blue and Black French Cloths; sup. Blue, Rival,
Brown, and 011ie English Cloths; Plain and Fancy Cas
sitneres, Satinets, Vasungs, &c.
CHINA. Class, and Queensware ; Fresh Family Gro
ceries, selected with very great care, among which arc
Wow Croyir Sugars—Loaf, Pulverised and Crushed Sugars.
Coffees, Spices, the Superior Teas of Me New York
Ccnnton Tea Company, Oils, Fish, &c.
All of which they are determined lovelies LOW as the
kwas Lowarr, for cash or country produce.
Thankful for past favors, they respectfully solicit a
eonduttance - ot the patronage heretofore bestowed upon
them. J. I). &J. WRIGHT,
Locust St., 2 doors below Second St.
Columbia, March 25, 1242—tf
NEW STAND
AND NEW GOODS. The subscriber takes this
method of informing his friends and costomers that
he has rented the Now Store Room knownms lialdesnan , s
New Corner, being on the South West corner of Front
MI Locust Street, where he intends to keep constantly on
hand a good supply of
READY-MADE CLOTHING, SHOES AND BOOTS.
and a general assortment of Family Groceries.. together
with Flour and other Meal ; Oats. Corn, and' Chop for
horses. Also, Liquors of all kinds, including Wines and
Cordials. All of which I pledge myself to sell as cheap
for cash asp:nimbly can be afforded. Please call and ex
amine both the goods and prices.
N. D.—A. dwelling and front shop adjoining, to Tent on
accommodating terms. Myself and Sott would like to
Board with the family. ELIJAH SARRATT.
Columbia, March 25, 184S.—tf
'LMILEIGIS.A.PIE•--XLEMOVAL.
THE Telepoph Office at Columbia has been
REMovEn to the Spy Printing (Mice, Front street,
opposite Barr's Hotel. where, for the present, messages
will be received and promptly transmitted to any of the
GArroring Stations:
York, iVhceling.
Lancaster. Cincinnati,
Philadelphia, St. Loins,
•
Wilmington, Reading,
Baltimore, Ponsville.
Washington, New York,
Harrisburg, Albany,
Carlisle, Buffalo,
Chambersburg, Rochester,
Bedford, Anburn,
•
, . .• Pittsburg, Ithaca, lee„ he.
The following are the rates of charges to—
York, 10 - cents for 10 words.
Lancaster. 10 cents for 10 words.
Philadelphia, 30 cents for 10 words.
- Harrisburg.= rents for 10 words.
Chambersburg, 30 cents for 10 words:
. Pittsburg' 40 cents for 10 words.
• Baltimore, via Phila., 55 cents for 10 words.
All additional words over 10 charged pro rate. Ad
dress and vigtleillta not counted. Huy All messages
must be prepaid.. C. WESTBROOK, Operate,
Columbia, Feb, 5, 1.545.
Celebrated Lowden PM' Malts, Tra
ens, long and &on, double and single Link, breast
ing anti halter Chains. all cif which Nbe offer at man
uthetures Tines. ap7.--tf REstrza &
.... ,
-..,.. a .
_ ~......... ~,,,.! :::.,...„ .::::,•,:,...,....,•
..- _
..1"!7.10 ~..:::: :. : I'Dj.: '., ":: r "'-:: ":"‘ : ~.:•• •-, : t.' r.: f•: , . -...' r.. : .•• l'. -• : : ...
''.. " r , • "t^ - : "..,-- .. .•• ^:. :7: _ .- _
!. •-. : 4. :7.:: D . ,•'• - ::.7::.: . ' . l ' .. '
. : C- ! Z . .. - .
:1 7 .
.. ,
#
Iffi
Jio):.b.l
12.0.ttrV•
Writttra for the Columbia Spy
SUMMER.
NOW Summer comes, with 7043 ,
With gentle winds and bright blue skies;
She cools UM Isis With showers of rain;
And makes this earth a paradise. ,
The gusting torrentifrorn the hills,
'Make music as the'S , glide along;
The echo of.the murinuring rills,
Combines toform sweet nature's song.
She' rams her robe bl" bright heath-hello,
• Amidst the mountain's solitudes.;
She decks with flowers the lonely dells, .
The tow'ring hills, end silent woods.
The babbling of the silver streams,
The laughing sound of noisy brooks ; -
The moon-light o'er the still lake gleams,
Whilst nature deok* L tite silent-nooks.
she comes with music in the breeze,
With fragrance of the hosts of flowers ;
She gently waves the gay-clad trees,
Which noon-tide sun oft times o'er powers
The valleys bright, the waveless sea,
Where soft .2rolian breeies steal;
All speak with joy in eestacy,
And all her kindness seem to feel.
She casts her robes . o'er many isles,
Of soft-tongued leaves where winds can play ;
She She the earth with countless smiles.
And endless rapture cheers the day.
When eve creeps on with balmy air,
With glimmering stars and silv , ry moon;
Whilst nature's foot-steps everywhere,
Bespeak the light orflow'rY June.
A rustling -sound where wild flowers hide,
Of gentle winds with breezy wings
Is heard ; and near the clear cool tide,
The pleasant voice o f whisperings.
O'er mountain, ocean, earth, and glen,
Mild summer flings her garb of peace ;
Unlike the cruel hearts or men,
She bids the troubled tempest cease.
Wrightsville, June 8,1843. A. n. n
=l=
FAN, NY FORESTER'S BIRD.
We mentioned the other day that a paragraph in
the Maulmein Free Press announced that edaugh.
ter had been born to Mrs. Judson of the mission at
Moulmein, formerly well known under her nom de
plume for Fanny Forester. We are glad to have
more decided confirmation of "the fact from the
lady's own testimony, which is not so metaphorical
that there will be any question of its signification.
The lines which follow, and which bear date, Maul
main, January, 1848, (Fanny is at the antipodes,
you must remember,) are from the June number of
the Columbian Magazine, where they appear under
the title of " My Btrd."—Boston Trans.
Ere last year's moon had left the eky,
A hirdling sought my Indian nett,
And folded, oh so lovingly !
Her tiny wings upon my breast.
From morn till evenings , purple tinge,
In winsome helplessness she lies,
Two rose leaves, with a silken fringe,
, Shut softly on her starry eyes.
There's not in Ind a lovelier bird;
Broad earth owns not a happier nest ;
Oh God. Thou bast a fountain stirred,
Whose waters never more shall rest!
This bettiniful mysterious thing,
This seeming visitant (coin heaven,
This lard with the immortal wing,
To me—to me, Thy hand has given
The pulse first caught its tiny stroke,
The blood its crimson hue, from mine
This life which I have dared invoke,
Henceforth is parallel with Thine
A silent awe is M my room—
I tremble with delicious fear;
The future, with its Itght and gloom,
Time and eternity are here.
Doubts—hopes, in eager tumult rise ;
Hear, oh my God! one earnest prayer!
Room for my bird in Paradise,
A.rid give her angel plumage there !
THE SIN OF SUFFERING.
I=
What call you that creature, dark crouched in its lair?"
once was called woman:"
"Why lurketh she there?
I hear a low moaning, the hove/ within.
An infant one crying—sure here must be sin:"
A dying voice murmur—" The worst of all sine,
Which, from sisters and brothers, small sympathy wins :"
"Thou wretched hut-dweller, now give it a name,
This sin, without solace,must wed thee to shame?"
To shame and to sorrow I'm wedded—a curse
Lies on the poor baby, as well as its nurse l"
"But name me the sin which to sorrow bath wedded
And shame, the pale pair in the straw heap embedded V,
"The sin and the curse we are bound to endure,
Ton view it—we feel it—we're poor—we are poor;
The will of the stronger has fashioned the law,
Which leaves us these rugs and this heap of old straw !
The scowl of the stronger upraids us, for being
The work of that wiU, the sad wreck you are seeing !"
They have passed from the hovel, she ceases to mourn--
A motherless babe's in the wide world alone.
Ott tooau.
IARRRIAGE•
"What a beautiful women Mrs. Howard is!"
I agree with you. Mrs. Howard's face is beau
tiful in form and outline, and sweet and gentle in
its expression; but I must say it dues not fulfil my
ideal (to use a modern phrase) of the spiritual beauty
expressible in the human face. There is none of
that ever-varying eloquence of expression which is
the very life and divinity in the countenance of
man or women, in the still life of Mrs. IL's lea.
tures. There is neither thought, nor aterngili, nor
savor in her everlastingly sweet smile. Beauty
s he may possess; but it is the beauty of marble,
animated by one feeling—amiability.'
Nell: and what more beautiful feeling sould
speak from her soul, through a womati'a eyes, than
that you have assigned to Mrs. H.? Moreover, I
believe the personification you speak of is real;
and I account it a moat fortunate thing for H. to
have such a: wile: A stronger and more actively
intellectual and spiritual nature would have been
unsuited to his mind and circumstances, and might
have diverted his attention from his public duties,
COLUMBIA, SATURDAY, JUNE 17, 1848.
excited his faculties iu a different direction, and it
may be, have unwittingly hindered his high course
of usefulness."
I cannot agree with you there. it 'fs a mis.
taken idea that strength may oppose strength. I
believe, rather, that when properly suited, the strong
mind assimilates more closely, and in a far higher
and nobler manner, with another' strong, thouglf,
perhaps different nature, thanis . peasible in such
unions as that you are' rejoicing •at the sight of.
Such a marked inequality must involve a n imper
fect unity, and I think, abatis bat a poor apprecia.
lion of what marriage is in the man who chooses
or admires it. What would you think of an eagle
wedded to a dove? White, and beautiful, gentle,
and loveful, though she be, softly though she down
the eyrie, and neatly though she arrange it for his
reception, she is still but a dove; and when• her
_kingly mate returns from his flight beyond
the clouds, and folding those wings that
have swept along the surface of the sea, and borne
him to the untrodden lands near the rising of the
sun; when those eyes that have essayed their ut.
most visionpewer to pierce the very .soul of light
—turn to the shade of home to be refreshed and
reaiverf—when there, in the repose hours of life, ho
would again, in thought, unfold those wings, and
review the vast and wondrous regions they have tra.
versed—to whom must lie depict the glory, and
beauty, and mystery, that have enriched his soul
Surely not to the gentle dove by his side; for grate.
ful though lie feet for her warmth and love, he
knows too well that in her mind is neither scope
nor power to reflect his thoughts. He is, therefore,
silent ; tchtlie deepest tones of his soul's voice he
feels there can be no response; he must not utter
them, except, perchance, to the stars, with whom
he may feel kindred, but from whom he cannot re.
ceive that breath of sympathy which so refreshes
and nourishes the soul. Think you the kingly
bird's nature can be fully developed under such
circumstances? By my belief in marriage, as the
highest fulfilment of our being, the strengthener
of our strength, the ennobler of our powers, the el
evator of our desires, the inspirer of our highest
impulses—l deny the perfection of such unions.
And yet how frequently they take place; and we
find them not only 'defended, but admired as
models.
" Such admiration is as reasonable as the rejaic.
ing of the blind man that he had never been
troubled with sight Poor dark one he could not
kndiv that the effort of vision, if we may use the
expression, which he imagined applicable to that
exquisite sense,i a amply rewarded by the beauty
of earth, and air, and sky which it reveals. Such
reward, in a spiritual form, the earnest seeker after
unity in union may find; for sympathy is the
sight sense of she soul, reflecting on the inward re
fine of mutually loving and kindred spirits the
whole nature of each."
"Your ideal of marriage, is a noble one, and, I
doubt not, true; but how seldom it is attained.
And, after all, what are more dear then love and
gentleness. How beautiful is it to see the world.
toiling man finding the solace of reciprocal affcc.
lion, even though he be denied intellectual sympa.
thy, in his wife:"
"Yes, beautiful, as arc the few treasure 2 flowers
in the prison of. the captive, whose right is to see
and enjoy the whole beauty of earth. Love and
gentleness are, indeed, beyond price; but in iiiy
ideal of the queen eagle, they are as perfect as. in
the dove. Quickness and clearness of intellect,
vividness of imagination, warm love and truth, and
pure earnestness of purpose, are as native to the fe
male as sympathy and tenderness. I own I am
somewhat of an aristocrat in regard to marriage,
and would not mingle serf with knightly blood.
But the heraldic blazonry must be of heaven's
stamping ; the Gules, and the Azure, and the Or,
must be colored in the soul l Nothing can be more
grievous to contemplate than the loss and suffering
from ill-assorted unions. When, as sometimes
happens, the woman is superior to her husband, the
C4BO is still worse, for woman's whole file and soul
are involved iu marriage, and liar social position is
less favorable to finding the substitute men generally
obtain in outward resources.
"It is a difficult question, this of marriage;
youth is most naturally its season; every unfolding
sentiment and budding hope, and branching desire,
bends at that period toward the sun of love. 314 r.
rige,without love in highest enthusiaatmis not worth
the name; but the firm basis of reason is not the less
needful. And how liable is youth to :nista ko—to
decide on uncertain premises—or, more correctly
speaking, to act unreasoningly! True, passion
lights its beautiful flame, and pours forth its gene.
rous warmth in the heart of youth; but the fire
does not there die! In the pure and earnest soul,
love, highest and most intense, lives ever; preserv.
ing the freshness of spring through the maturer
seasons of life, and insures to him who gmirde it
with vestal care, a perpetual youth of the heart.
'Manhood is the season for marriage,' says the phi
losopher of life; a certain virility of mind, es well
as body, is necessary in order to judge and ea pad
ate for so important a relation. It is from our ide.
al what marriage ought to be, not from our cautery
once of the unions, called marriages, around us,
that we must reason and decide in the question be
fore us."
"Is it safe to argue thus on imaginary ide - sls 7"
"I think it is: all perfection, in this world, is
ideal; but not the less to be aimed at on that ac
count; else, where were the artist's aim, the be.
liever's faith, the philosopher's calmness 1 The as
piration after perfection is the soul of progress;
progress is the law of being; every pure arid high
desire of the soul is a promise of its future nature,
a promise of its everlasting development, a linking
of time with eternity!
"Our estimate of the worth and noes of mar
riage will greatly depend on the appreciation we
have formed of the meaning of life, and on the un
derstanding we have of our own nature. If that
estimate be noble and true, and if we correctly
comprehend ourselves, we may conceive somewhat
of the responsibility we ought to feel to act in the
light of highest reason, when seeking to secure to
ourselves the unspeakable benefits of this' benign.
est ordinance of God to man, as Milton nobly des
ignates it. Oar ideas of marriage are generally
derived from the circumstances and examples
around ns, and these are rarely the most favorable
to a correct judgment. In designing the structure
of life, we must be guided by truth and nature,
rather than by custom and example; thus only can
we insure beauty and harmony in the building.
Each of us is the architect or his own existence;
we are given life and materials to make it great
and real; if we neglect to do so, it becomes mean
and tasteless. tWliat is life,' asks the wise Milton,
" Without the vigor and spiritual exercise of life I"
To establish this vigor, and to inspire this spiritual
ity, is marriage chiefly valuable, and •only when it
thus rouses into highest life the full maturity of ex.
istenco is It worthy of that moat hialyoffice which
the Creator has assigned it, of perpetuating his lin
age on the earth. This highest appointment is
alone sufficient to denote the intense importance of
right and real marriages ;, it is impossible to esti.
mate the increased wealth or Mind - and 'soul that
would accrue to the world If the sanction of nature
and truth were sought ill renewing, tltis- ranks of
life."
" .Marriage ls a solemn 'thing, and mast be a
ecemonnien or spirituel and temporal - comforts, a
covenant of unfeigned love and peace, whereof
both the general and the particularend is the peace
and contentment of man's mind.' Such is Milton%
definition, and taking the full meaning of every
word, a just one. To Insure contentment and cam.
munion, marriage must be an entire friendship, as
Well as a perfect love.
-
"And yet, I doubt whether, even with these e:e.
menu, marriage can produce perfect happiness."
"I agree with you: imperfection is stamped up.
on our present state of being; our vision is finite,
our goodness fragmentary, our temper inconsistent,
and the'natnral result is—imperfection of life; but
•we can imagine perfection, and the ideal is ever a
presage of the future, given us by an , incentive to
endeavor. I have no doubt that if we use life to
our utmost ability, and in accordance with our esti.
mate of its Intl capacity, we shall he rewarded ac
cordingly; full satisfaction we must not expect to
find—it is hidden from us in the far ether of eter
nity."
"Do you not observe that, even in its present im.
perfect state, marriage affords more happiness than
there are grounds to expect The laws of- :teem.
naodation and acclimation act continually, and pro.
duce assimilation and a measure of content, where
the natures seemed most unsuited."
Yes, but observe, that, in order to effect this es.
similation, the minds must deteriorate; the law of.
acclimation, like all the laws of nature, is ore bene.
hcial tendency,but when its use degenerates into
an abuse, it is no longer a blessing; when, in its
action on the mental nature, it transforms higher
into lower feelings, and lulls the restless aspirations
of the soul into apathy and quiescence, it must be
guarded against as a snare, rather than sheltered
ur.der as an excuse for error. In many other cases
beside the one before us, does this law of accommo
dation spread its pacifying influence over the wa.
tent of life, calming and silencing where agitation
and change kayo not yet effected their work of pu.
rification. While we take advantage of its healing
virtues, as in the adversity of circumstances we are
forced to do, let us ho. careful not to stave over
wounds that require a probing cure."
"But the marriage question. What are the rules
by which we may guide man's
. steps over this Rubi.
con of lifh 1"
"Rules era impossible in the ease; man must
learn the lesson of self-rule; aeration' must be in
deed an educing or leading uut,of the whole power
of the mind into use and action; and when ,the
youth has learned the value and the aim of exist
ence, the man will sot more in accordance with the
beautilul ideal thnt lives in the soul of every think
ing being." ,
"Amen .!"
li~ccl(ant~us.
THE NEW ZEALANDER
AND THE MISSIONARY.
Amongst the earlier missionaries who visited
New Zealand, ono gentleman, a Mr. —, was din.
tinguished alike for his zeal in the good cause, and
the success with which his efforts were attended.
Ilia mast promising proselyte was ono of the no..
five chiefs; this man was constant in his attend•
mice whenever Mr. -- performed divine service,
listened to his sermons with the deepest interest,
and was altogether considered a satisfactory Con
vert. All at once his behavior underwent a com
plete change ; he absented himself from the prayer
meetings, appeared morose and dejected, end gave
a sullen answer to any question as to his altered
conduct. At length-Mr. sent for him, and
after some trouble, elicited that he was very un.
happy. "Unhappy:" exclaimed the good mission
ary, "and witerefore!" "Me come to hear you
preach, you make me Christian, you tell me say
prayers—all very good." " Well why should this
make you unhappy?" " %Veit bit—you say Chris
tian man only have one wife. Now me got two:
You say, that very wicked; what me do with 'em,
r —This was what is commonly termed a poser;
and the worthy missionary was at first somewhat
at a lose What advice to bestow. After a few mo.
mental consideration, he replied :—" It appears to
me, that in the situation in which you are unfortn.
nattily placed, the only thing to be done is for you
to determine to which of your wives yotiare most
deeply attached, and then put the other away."
"Put her away ?"—" Yes, put her away ; of course
taking care shot she shall nut want for anything ;
it is your duty to provide for her properly. Do
you understand me? The chief signified that he
did so, and took his leave with many expressions of
gratitude. A short time elapsed, when he again
sought Mr. —, a nd greeting him with a collate.
mince beaming with contentment and intense self.
approval, began, "me verry happy now." " I am
very glad to hear it," was the reply; " have you
acted upon my advice, then ?^ "Yea, I got one
wife now." "Quite right; and the other, how
have you provided for her ?" There was a pause
ere the chief, a ith the air of a man who had done
something decidedly clever, and feltsure of applause,
replied, with a chuckle of self approbation, "Me eat
her:"
A CAUTION TO MERCOANTS.—We heard a good
story of a sagacious country gentleman, who came
to our city some days ago with a bill on a highly
respectable firm of this city, The bill was duly
presented for acceptance,and a young member of
the firm, a fashionable, showily dressed gentleman,
who had cultivated a very dainty moustache, wrote
with a gold pen his endorsment on the bill, giving
his middle name in full, thus: J. Templeton Tornp.
kin.. The countryman looked at the signature,
read it slowly, glanced at the fashionable merchant,
who was very fascinatingly twirling his whiskers,
and handing the bill over to him remarked; "Here
stranger, cash that document." " What l"indig
nantly replied the merchant, " discount my own
paper is a positive insult." " Wall, can't help
it," said the countryman ;"Ifyou don't, I moat get
some body else to do it." To prevent his paper
from getting an 'Change, the merchant concluded
to cash the bill, and paying over the money to the
countryman, asked him quietly, " Why, my friend,
offer me the gratuitous insult of requiring me to
discount my own paper V' "I dont mean any harm,
stranger; but I have jest got this idear into my
skull, that when you see a merchant with that bar
oh his upper lip, and who writes his middle name
out in full, and endorses bills with a gold pen, you
may .sat it down as putty certain he's gwine to bust
up in a week.—N. 0. Deka.
A Taus MAN.—Who is he? One who will not
move from the path of duty to gain a mina of wealth,
or it world of honors. Ile respects the feelings of
all the rich and the poor,tho hismbleand the hen.
eatable. Ibis as careful nut to speak an unkind or
a harsh word to his servant as to his lord. Ho -is
as attentive to the wants of a slave as to a prince.,
Wherever you meet him, he is the same kind, sc.
comma:iting, untibuusivei humble individual. In
him are embodied , the adamants of, pure religion.
No step is taken which the law of God condemns ;
no word is spukan that polite tfie ear of man.' ' Be
you like him. - Thenjqin'tvill te prepared (alive or
die : to serve God on earth or in heaven.
MA, PAYABLE AT SIX MONTHS.
BEAUTIFUL, Erntacr.—The Boston Melcantile
Journal selects the following from the Foreign Re.
view for April, 1839, as one of the finest passage.
in the whole range of English literattire. The
subject treated of is the benefit of printing:
"When Tamerlane had finished building his pyr.
amids of seventy thousand human skulls, and ivai
seen standing at the gate of Damascus, glittering
with steel, with his battle axe on his shoulder, till
fierce hosts filed to new victories and carnage, that
pale on-looker might have fancied that nature was
in her death throes'—for havoc and despair bad
taken possession of the earth and the sun of man.
hood seemed setting in seas of blood. Yet it might
be on that very gala day of Tamerlane, a little boy
WEI playing nmc.pins in the streets of Mentz,
whose history was more important to them than
twenty Tamerlanes ! The Tartar Khan, with his
shaggy demons of the wildernes, passed away like
the whirlwind, to ho forgotten forever—and the
German artist has wrought s benefit, which is yet
immeasurably expanding itself, and will continue
to expand through all countries and all time.—
What are the conquests and expedition. of the
whole corporations of captains from Walter Penni.
less to Napoleon_ Bonaparte, compared with the
moveable types of Johannes Faust."
A BEAUTIFUL F . :Qom—Life is beautifully com
pared to a fountain fed by a thousand streams, that
perishes if one be dried. If a silver cord twisted
with a thousand airings, that part asunder if one
be broken. Wo,nre emcompassed with acci
dents every day, to crush the mouldering tenements
which we ihh4lit., TliC seeds of disease are im
planted in our constitution by nature. The food
that nourishes the body contains the elements of its
decay; the soul that animates it by a vivifying
fire, tends to wear it out by its own action; death
lurks in ambush long in our paths. Notwithstand
ing this is the truth, so palpably confirmed by the
daily examples before our eyes, huw little do we
lay it to heart. We see. our friends and neighbors
perishing among us; but how seldom does Roccar
to our thoughts, that our knell shall, perhaps give
the next fruitless warning to the world I
Aortas—When a man has done an injury to an
other—when he has deceived and lied about him—
how natural it is for him to persist in hi■ wicked
course. Unless the wreatch continues his abuses
and slanders he fears that his unprincipled source
will be detected, and Le held up for public detesta
tion.
We never hear of a man loudly and earnestly
abusing another behind his back, without feeling
that we urc in the presence of a wretch, of ono who
has abused kindness and betrayed virtue—rind as
soon as possible we pass away. A man who has
really suffered an injury, and borne it like a Owls.
tien,seldoin opens his mouth; except it twin answer
to the inquiries of interested friends. lie feels
safe in his innocence, and knows' that all which
man can say, does not in the least injure his real
character, although for a time his reputation may
suffer.
Are you slandered. villified, or traduced 7 Beer
it mecktv, and the right will be made known. You
have a Friend who will never leave you. nor sutler
your enemies finally to triumph.
I=
A TERRIBLE TINE.—" Well, ElMee , a row over
there to our house."
"What on nrth's the matter, you'littie earpint
"Why, dad's drunk, rnother'a dead, the old cow
has got e calf; Sal's got married and run away with
the spoons, Pete has swallowed a, pin, and Lui's
looked at the Aurora Borax till he's got the delirium
triangles. That ain't all nuttier."
" %Vhat else upon airth 7'
oßtree spilt the batter pot and broke the pancakes,
and one of the Maltese kittens has got ite head in
to the molasses cup and couldn't get it out, and oh,
how hungry I am!"
Tacitos speaks of •the early ages, when. man
lived in innocence and simplicity:. Whereupon a
surly and cynical critic exclaims—" When was
that? The first woman went astray. The first
born killed the second.—When did this time of
simplicity begin?"
If you are courting a young lady, and wish be
fore you take her, to ascertain her temper, tear her
ball dress, as if by accident. If she keeps her
equanimity, lose not a moment in popping the "mo
mcntous question." She will do, and you may ac
count yourself a happy man.
V4/SE. CIUNOND INTO w►rss.—itlix a little Bola.
tion of subsetate of lead with port wine; filter the
mixture through blotting paper, and a colorless li
quid will pass through ; to this add a small quantity
of dry salt of tartar, when a spirit will rise, which
may be inflamed on the surface of the water.
During the English rebellion, a gentleman who
lay on his deathbed was asked how be would be
buried ; and calmly answered:
" With my face downwards; for within a while
England will be turned upside down, and then I
shall lio right."
''One word more and I have done." How we
dread to hear this expression from the lips of a
speaker at public meetings. It's always a sure
sign that he is bracing up for a fresh start
Yankee Blade.
As GOOD as Pus:cm—The Pekin Visitor as"
"Coming home a few mornings since, we met a
man attempting to walk on both aides of the street.
By a skillful mamma we passed between him."
I have seen a mother cheerfully lavish money to
purchase her daughter expensive and superfluous
dresses ; and I have heard the same mother grumble
that abe had to pay is such enormous wages.
An honest Hibernian recently invented e teapot
with two spout., tho one exactly oppopito the other,
for the convenience of pouring out two cups et the
came time.
Men marry, at twenty for passion; at thirty for
love ; at forty, for money; at fifty, for the sake of
being fondled and nursed.—Family Herald.
Adt ice, like snow, the softer it falls, the lenget it
dwells upon, and the deeper it sinks into the mind.
—Coleridge.
•
Dr. Beecher'e advice is, " Never chase e he—let
it alone, and it will ran itself to death."
That which is beat in oar hoarts.'nevey nam e s
forth from them.—Latnortine: - -
Why is a snow kink in spring like •thrifty tree
Because it hisses.
[WHOLE _NUMBER, 941;
GREELEY AT HOME.
A SKETCH FROM LIFE
DY ROOGB
. Speaking of New York, I was there the other
day, and of course I called on the editor ; of time
Tribune, " the noblest Roman of them a11,".0t the
" Tribune office." I found hint as usull,berei at
work among hie papers, though in ritther 7 6ettee
condition, es to room ; he having found, boapyise,
that pure air is, to say the least, rather convenient
to the lungs, end as good for editors as for other
folks. It want Bredburn's sanctum, with its car
pets, sofa-chairs, ohogany" table and deska, amt..
teur tool-chests, wardrobes, pigeon-holes, pelmet
curtains, closets, etc., etc.—it was simply a good
sized back-room, with "an old arm chair" or two,
a pine table, sad instead ore tool.cheat, he had only
a box to put wood in, poor fellow. After convers
ing awhile upon matters and things in general,
"Greeley declared that I would not have any ade
quate ides of New York in its glory, if I didn't see
.the hopeful heir of all his honors, the infant
"Tribune," the unsophisticated Greeley. I accord
ingly promised to meet him at his residence, imam
three miles hum Lis offace, in the "hubbubs" of th e
city, the morning fonowne is , -. Wane.
About eight o'clock of the following mornin g, - in
'company with a kindred spirit kind and true,' who
piloted me thither, I went up to the rural retreat of
the mightest of New York editors, and where do
you think I found him ?" Why nowhere else but
out in the field, busy as a bee, with his baldness
glistening in the sun, and his s hirt sleeves and col
lar flying to time breeze—having turned his editorial
quill into that interesting besom of destruction,
called a " caterpillar brush, ' which hohad fastened
to the end of a very long cane-pole, and which be
kept dipping into u pailful ofvery strong soap- acids.
and then to the best of his abilities, "puttintitrits
the caterpillars. I told him I was not surprisedlo
see him " soap" Henry Clay,'cause I knew be loved
and worshipped him, but I didn't expect to see brris
putting it on to such as these.
I asked him it he didn't think some such opera
tion as this would be good for the government lie
remarked, "Take away all the 'caterpillars', and
the government would be left terribly bare."
After viewing the beautiful grounds of his vene
rable mansion, once owned by a rich nabob, we
went into the house, and called for the wonderful
baby. It was soon brought in. I say it, because I
could not surmise to which, sex it belonged, as it
was dressed in " long shorts," gown and petti.e.
excuse me—and wore its hair full length half way
down its back. I called it a girl, to venture, but
the father resented that, and gave mu to understand
that there war nothing short of a boy about it—a
future Henry Clay at least—his present name
forget. He was indeed a singular looking child,
dressed as he was, being over four years old, and
wearing his golden hair of a reddish cast, which
was entirely guiltless of curling, lying flat on his
back, kept out of his eyes by a yellow ribbon round
his head. lie wan indeed quite a chilu, considering
his mother's being BO constituted as to be in tor
ments if the childia out of her eight. It being the
only remaining child of four, she has become terri
bly nervous, and the poor little fellow has to be de
prived of a good deal of open air exercise. I have
seen a beautiful picture of him, which tells much of
his father. It was taken while sittingnstrider his
father's shoulders, leaning his head on his father's
pate; the tout ensemble being, as you may suppose,
rather striking. This is the favorite attitude; It
delights both father and child, and they "gait" to
gether in this way for hours, when (ether has
"got nothing better to du." After looking over
the grounds, and examining the stock on his llam—
a cow, a dog, cat, and seven puppies—and talking
awhile about 4.)Cidlion,ete., we Waterier departure
from the home of the great American editor, who Is
doing so much to elevate a man to the Presidency
that is not half so worthy of the office as he him
self is, left the wonderful child, the greatest speci
men of live clay, Greeley thinks, ever moulded in.
to human form, except the Clay—Harry of the
‘Vest—and returned to the busy /VIM of the city
again.
TALL OAKS
FROM LITTLE ACORNS GROW
Abuut eighty years ago there lived in England
a. man whose name was George Guelph, better
known in history as George the Third, King of
Great Britain. Ile was a tolerable kind of a marl
in point of abilities—not, in fact, a bad meaning
person. He would hare made a better farmer, gro
cer or tradesman, than a King.
But he was burn in the divine rights of hinge."
He was u descendent of William, the ennquerer of
England—William, Duke of Normandy, a bastard
son—his mother being a tanner's daughter of Nor
mandy, who surrendered her charms to the favors
of William's father, outside the bins of the church.
William the liret was a brave man. He crossed
the channel with his retainers, and on the field of
Hastings defeated the Saxons, killed Harold their
King, and took possession of England.
There was a little town called Kew, in Surrey,
England, and Giorge the Third, after he had been
but a few years on the throne, bethought he would
like to build a pa lacein this town of Kew. Perlis
ment had berm liberal to him in salary, and he
could baldly ask an additional appropriation -for
the purpose of building a palace. lie suggested
the thing to his Prime Minister, who told him the
thing might be done by a stamp tax, and, a duly
laid on tea of two pence per pound in his colonise
of America. These duties the toady ilionght
would more than be enough to build a hundred pal
aces. The king recommended the matter to Par.
Kemeny and Parliament passed a law to that effect.
The colonies refused to be thus taxed, unless they
were allowed to send members to the body that
passed the law, for the purpose of defending thetas•
salvos. . -
Revolution followed—seven years of Vond,y wax
was the consequence; but the colonic, Came out
free. In their efforts they were aided •by Francti.
This war cost the English government. some one
hundred and fifty millions pounds sterling, or Mx
hundred millions of dollars--a pretty good price
for the palace of George the Third at Kew.
When the French officers returned to their native
land, they began to feel a love of, republicanism
themselves, and they planted'the send in their nit.
tire land.' A few years after, a 'revolution brOke
out in France.—They all took part in it; bet
through the wildness .of.thit, people, the republic
which they hid formed ended in the military—met.
so far av victories went, glorious—despotism of Na
poleon. To drive him from the throne cost Eng.
land six hundred millions pouods sterling. The
was paying rather dear for, the palace at Weer.
Within a few brief wees a monarch of one of
the most powerfol nations of Europe has been dri:
von from his throne like a vagabond. Half the
world is to agitation ' and republics are the generalery
of the people. - But for the paleoe-et-gew our own
country might this day have boon a part, of go
British Empire. France a monarchy stilt, and Eng,
land out tit - debt, eomparatirely spanking. '
as the eJownvaye, am 'lotting to be low eireopany.• 2l
Hallock wrote truly and propbstioally menu year*
ago—
" The monarch r
hf L a vi rs ;
the printer's fro .
Gil;evemsehilearperggij:!'''''