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MBj m * a . . . * '*. . . I ynj imff YVT 10. 1855. ' , NUMBEfrjT . ' - ^ " TOT DREAM OP HOMB. Wto har not"felt how sadljr sweet k The dream of home, the dream of home, Steals o'er the heart, too soon to fleet, '1 " . When br o'or-sea. or land wo roam ? I Sunlight jnore soft may o'er ps fall, : " . To gneher shores our bark may come; But tar more bright^-more dear than all, ~ That dream of heme, that .dream of home. " " "**C^ .j, * ' Ask of the sailor youth when fen BtslightBade bonnds o'er.ocean's foam, What charms him. moat, when ev'ning's star Smiles o'er the wavef to drearu_of home. ^ . Fond thoughts of absent /Heads and loves " v . At that sweet hour around him come; Ills heart's best joy where'er he roves, .". That dream of home, that dream of home. ' ,r. . - , .*, *?. TROTH. x >- - * 'V i .- '? . -r . Marble and recording brass decay, ' , f And like the 'graver'^ memory,, pass away;.' ; The works of man inherjt,.as is just,. . .. Their author's frailty, and return to dust; But Truth divine forever stands secure, Its bead is guarded, and its base is sure; 4; Fixed in the rolling flood of endless years'* The pillar of the eternal plan appears; ?. The raving storm and dashing wave defies.. . Built bv that architect .who built the skies. ' r ' * H ' u ' v- . P<npper. '$& ^gMM"^Tl"Tl^TTl^T~*TT"^"""1^*'^'. jpSttlJOttMIM. ,' An American Artist in Borne. We have been accused'of partiality, and extravagant laudation for the honest opiuions which we have occasionally published on the merits of orir countryman. William Pace, the portrait painter, but nothing that weliave ever avid of him was so laudatory or extravagant as the following.remarks which we find in theDecember number of the London Art Journal; a publication which is not often guilty of noticing an American artist at all. Mr. Page is now at Rome;' ... * At the risk of being thought guilty of exaggeration, I declare, after visiting the studio of Mr. Page, that he is undoubtedly - the best portrait painter ol modern times. I say this emphatically, and let those whotloubtit go there and judge for themselves. I am aware that the low tone of color pervading his pic lures is disapproved by some artists, w ho qualify it by the term blackness,' but this is un just; his touch is always transparent and har monious, and his system of coloring borne out hy the grratest masters. Of his flesh tints it might be said, as of the Venitian masters of old?prick it and it will bleed. Not least a&ong his extraordinary and jnany perfection's the treatment, the attitude of inMAMAUIti roloAt inrr qih>Ii rv'iai. IJ Mi BUUjnjlO | UU ilivui inuij oviuviiu^ u>?v., |/VV. lions an Titian or Paolo Veronese would have chosen. -Yet this similarity is spontaneous, and and wholly free from servile mannerism; but his brush and his eye are so modulated with the conceptions of the great matter# he follows, that the resemblance comes naturally.? ] have visited the best studios'of-Rome, but in point of color and freatmept Mr. Page may clinllenge them all. He is truly a ' second Daniel come to judgment." .. I eannot describe the gratification I felt while looking at bis works, for" of alf schools in the wrorld, I prefer the Venitiah; and I frankly own I would rather poshes! Titian's " Assumption of the Virgin" than Raphael's 4 Transfigura* -- " " o? -v. -.or _ lion. ITir. i la Wip n jiuung mow, Hiiu looks himself, like & Venitian painter. He has just finished a.bead of Miss Gushman, one of the most skilfullikenesses of a plain woman I ever beheld; for he has toned*and. softened down her defects, and heightened the pleasing expression of her countenance, without in the least sacrificing the vitality of the resemblance. But the picture I especially, noted;-and whichactually caused me .a thrill-pf delight, as my eyes rested on it, is a portrait Of Mrs.-Crawford, wife of the celebrated American sculptor. Talk of Michael Angelo burying liis Bacchus, after be bad broken tbearm, to deceive the ignorant, ' make believe very much' it was an antique;, why this picture,^ after a few. years' and that PSoIo Veronese or Titiap. were alive and at werkv :' V- V -^ ' ' " ? fAiilapltf knnni) ill tliO citk. ! 11c um 1m7vu poi uvuiqi ?j unp|ij ui biiv ouw- i ject, which is an extremely handsome woman; lurgely possessing the rich, ripe, Vehitian type of beauty. The figure is .partly turned away? thefsce looking round atabe spectators^' over the shoulder, giving charming lines in the fine, foil neck and shoulders. The hair is simply braided, Yet Jocks upon the open, brow, - -y? " Msdonna-wise, divided there.",- r? - * The whole execution of the head is a model of color. The^languid, sleepy eyeS turned to" ward one with just that dreamy, inddlent j?x? pressioo Titian gives to his Ve/iuses.'I he backf cTnaulflr? diamondedP- tabes try. ? 'v; -v8 , - j,.-* in a stiff tesselated pattern, absolutely Byzantine in its severe rigidity. Such* background {a a lnuropbant test of the artist's power, for the truth pf the drawing fs undeniably, pro^td by tbe&ct that it ad mite of detached object in the immediate ^.vicinity' of the figere being accurately n^'d? ocli without' deteriorating or' confusing the principal object. Tbid Was tfip ' case-with Holbein and all the severe Dutch master* *'**: -9 ' I could not botJnstHutjp a rinsing cortipsri-" son between the p^61iar and almost aymmetrical accaraey w this treatment, ^ the practice of modern ^painters* shch as Beynold^ Lawrence; Hoppswr end' Komney, >bo -all, more or lett, indul^d id Uie aicaaetbeyoften trere, they duce an/ aewnt/jn tfeir' b^kgroopd^f Jgy ' in*, m they often did, id cloee lmiUtlop add !. ..-it/'.ffkA. tfUto 19 we prwciw viywft eto*?l r??urty,oftw;jnd?K^rtaImo9jcb%. :&?s?s.kk Is erideoc? of iftiftic triik Maswg of shadow sad half tint C0n##flMy occtfy ToJf$d ng, so to 9 m * , . saj,1ti gleams and electric, touches of light' plscecTifwjuxtflpositioD.with the principal mass of dark. In the> treatment of Page, tfs in Titian, and all the masters of that elevated school, there is both simplicity and' breadth, dignity and earnestness, in the execution;-. v . . ,, *.? **' 3 .;Fat Msk.?There is something cordial about a fat man.. Everybody likes him, and He likes everybody- Your lsbmaelitee "are, in truth, a , bare boned race; a lank tribe they are, skeleton and bile. Food does a fat hian good; it cli'ngv to .bim; it fructifies on him; he swells nobly out and fills a generous space in life. He is "a living, ..walking minister of gratitude to the earth, and the fulness thereof, an incarnate' testimony against the vanities of care; v radiant manifestation of the wisdom of good humor. A fat man, therefore, almost in virtue of being a fat mat), is a i. A*. ^r/ a pvpuini man auu wimiuvuij iic utserves his popularity. In a crowded vehicle, the fatter man will ever be the roost ready io make room. Indeed he seems to be half sorry for his size, lest it be in the way of others; but others would Siot have hiin less than he is, for his humanity is usually commensurate with his bulk-. A. fat man has abundance of rich juices. The Hinges of his system are well oiled,, the; springs of his being are noiseless, and'so he goes on his way rejoicing, in full contentment and placidity. ,1 7* ^ ^ ?_ I _ i M .1 11.1. a iac man leeis n? posiuon oom in tne woria; ne knows that his being is is cognizable; he knows that he has a marked^ place in the' universe, and that he need take no extra pains to-advertise mankind that he is among them; he knows that heisMj no danger of being overlooked^ It does realy take a. deal of wrong to make one really hate a fatina^n; and if we are not always fis enrrlinl to a thin man ns we tthrmhl lie Chris. tian chanty should take into account the force qf prej udice which we have to overcome against his thinness. A fat man is nearest to that most perfect, of figures, a matbaraatical sphere; a thin man to that most limited of conceivable di- inefisions, a simple line. A fat man is a being of harmonious volume, and holds relations to the material universe in every direction, a.thin .man has nothing but length; a thin man, in fact is but the continuation of a point.?Lectures of Hehry Gtltt. ' j> . * ?f- ? - Chauitt at home.?Don't ^o to China to prove your benevolence. That is like going to the mouth of a-tiver to float up. It you don't love your wife you should not possess too much love for the antipodes, If it is your nature to allow some family folly to sever your nature towards your friends around the hearthstone, we beg-you to dispose of your stock in the wholesale beneficence business and go into the retail market, You are not the man to send flannel to the little heathens in ^ie land of palms beyond the sea. * Begin at home?with those whom God has given you for your nearest and dearest friends. Believe that those with whom you associate are those you should bless and make happy. - Study how you can make those" around you happy. If it be a dollar, advice, a smile, a tiivor_ a kind word, a pressure of the hand or chastisement, give it and give it freely. Remember, that the happiness of this world is like a mountain of golden sand made up by the contributed particles of those who dwell on the earth, and that it is your duty to cast a golden atom on the glittering mountain each moment of your life. In this way the mountain grows and feasts the eyes of the millions who gaze upon it with rapture and deligh.t * - - ' # Spirit of the Age A boy once went to a ragged school and had his face washed : and when he went home, his neighbours looked . at him with astonishment. They smd, "that looks like Tom Rogers, and yet it can't he, for -he's so - clean." Presently his mother looked athim ; Onding his face so clean, she fancied her face dirty, and forthwith washed it." The father soon come home, and seeing his wife so clean, thought his face dirty and soon , followed; their example. Father, mother and ( son alfbeing clean, the' mother began to think the room looked dirty, and down she went on her knees, and scrubbed that clean, There was a female dodger, in the house who, seeing such .a change in her neighbours, thought her -(ace and room very dirty and the spedily betook to the cleansing operation likewise. And very soon. thfe"whole house was, as it were, transform- ' ed, and made tidy and comfortable, simply ' by the cleaning of one ragged schoolboy. ' S '* : . % 'j WhatRealCottsapb is.-?It is real courage to wear.old garments till you can afford to pay for new; to say no when asked to lend "half a dollar" to even a suffering, loafer; to' refuse to,'drink toddy when you are uptcyour head and ears in it; to be honest when it is more profitable to be , a knave; to do right against-the current; to be . .indifferent to groundless slander; to remain un- ^ changed by rosy compliments and gilt-edged. i solicitations or female "beauty: to walk in the ,| -pathes of godlfness/'-when both feet are-pitched j another way; to go'near a brilliant oyster saloon | at t^omthe morning hungry as $ bear, and not | go in;" to keep your patient* with ft /chamber- ( tnaiq just from Ireland; to be a man among fools, lo dtryou^uty if ittifeesyoa tothe Almshouse. Try mid see. i; . fe - erf " i ?' t i*. .. J*v * - w ' * f> ? *v ?? > ."? ? r - . -? i Books and Businkbs;-?One half of the world j : hplievesra business mart Has no right, to dabble \ l in literature. v H9" may gamble ip stocks, 'drive' < fast horses,- have. a.towu-house, keep aboK-at'the t, opera; dip in"pclitic3 and indulge in various, e*- | pcuoi??- lauowo ui uresis luruiiyrtjf ttuu equipage, j but be mast neither venture in his domestic 4 -pi-iracy, by tis'own^lrwlde, to - read, write, nor , think, -or ^Ise^he will go -to???1Texas. The ^ other half of the world, the upper half, entertain . different opiniob^/T . ' .? ! ;" 1 . r- ; Jg William8ton^-^ppit?o8.--A friend, writing t from these Springs, tells lis that there is- but. Jittle cbrapany in. the", hotels as yet. A large cro^d ? expected during the - summer.' M Willianas ton," he writes," Is quite a pleasant place < containing some 6ve or six hundred inhabitants f Jrithitrits corporate- limits, -It -jfeows op two i hotels^ a'carnage factory, some fonr stores, a ampleofboqt <k shoe Ihops and^a taikrioa i tetablish'theDt.Its chief pride is the Mineral 1 ^jHing-r-g beautiful, bold fountain?believed c ^08S^rT9nfl^ Ed^J^i^dv^Sicr. i * 1 v; *. V y ;/ A Idouiiment WortM While Erect. i? ?r Hassler, the mathematician,conceived in his home in Germany; the ambitious project of converting the Atlantic seacoast of the "United States of America into atl imperishable monument of his fame and his labors. The communication of his desire to plan and execute for our government a oomplete survey of" its eastern coast, led finally to his engagement to do the work. ? v How he performed it is well known to that portion of the public that take an interest in navigation, and in the federal legislation connected with the hydrographicnl bureau at Washington. To but few, however, is known the absorbing passion with which this distinguished mathematician pursued his lolly purpose of erecting a durable monument to his memory in the American coast survery. In heat and in cold?in rain and in sunshine?by night and by day?did he, bred to the best society, and familiar with distinguished men in his own and id this country labor at his task upon the seaside, on exposed headlands, in wet swamps, in marshes in the broiling sun?exposed to swarms of insects, and the miasm of damp and unhealthy localities. He was in the habit of correcting the work of His subordinates, and revising and generalizing their results, at his lodgings in Washington. Once while thus engaged, the carriage of the Russian Minister, M. Bodisco, came to his door The. footman rang, and was by and by opened to by a small, 6tooping man, with spectacles and clad somewhat remarkably in a green baize loose coat. 'IsMrHassler in? He is. 'The Russian Minister would like to see him' 'Let him enter'?and the door was left open, and the green baize and the spectacles and the stoop ing form receded into a large room M. Bodisco entering there alone, found the Surveyor surrounded with maps charts, and written and figured memoranda, that covered all the floor. He introduced himself to Mr. Hassler, and said that he had been commissioned by .the Russian Emperor to offer him employment in his Empire at any salary he might see fit to Dame?that if he had pecuniary engagements here they would ' be paid for him, that time sufficient to close his affaire would be allowed him?but that his early departure for St. Petersburgh would be desirable. The German listened till he closed, and in simple language told the diplomatist that he was not working for money, that he was building his monument upon the American coast, and could not rest till it was done. To the suggestion that he was receiving an inadequate com Jensation tor bis labor, the mathematician replied: n money, sir, I no get paid?but I shall accomplish one invaluable labor for this American Republic that shall never perish, That, Count, is much better tban money. How wise was his ambition?if ambition of posthumous fnroe is erer wise! The reputation conferred by wealth is as evanescent as it is vulgar. Only works of genius and of benevolent utility endure the corrosions of time, and retain a place in man's memory. Long after the names of the Rothschilds shall have been utterly forgotten in Europe and America, De Foe will be held in general honor for bis Robinson Crusoe. On the Atlantic coast the now dead Hassler is in affectionate mention among all seafaring men and dwellers near the beach. They speak admiringly of his passionate, self-denying devotion to his great work, llis veneration for landmarks, too, which sailors can so well appreciate, is often talked of. The navigators of the dangerous Delaware Bay will remember Liston's poplar below Reedy Island, and the Bomb hickory famous landmarks in those waters. These great and much-cherished trees intervened in the survey frequently, and interrupted the observations. It'never entered Hassler'6 head to cut them down; but at great trouble he made a station thirty miles of? upon the height of bleak Iron Hill, and there got his observations by firing tar-barrels at night at the base of the trees so cleat to the Delaware Bay navigators. Buffalo Democracy. The Illusions of Life. How little men are disposed to be content with the real and practical pleasures, pursuits and purposes of life. The permanent and substantial enjoyments derived from honest industry, are really cast aside for the dubious and unsubstantial anticipations of some chimerical dreamer.," The quiet comforts and pleasures of borne, family and friends are all abandoned lor the uncertain, doubtful and hazardous adven ture after gold.and the imagined pleasurable realities it will purchase. Peace and plenty smile upon us on the soil bequeathed to us by Dur lathers and hallowed by every association that softens and refines the heart, but they are ibandoned for strange lands and stranger faces who have none of the strong heart yearnings md tender affections from which we have ruth lessly torn ourselves away. But when we wake from our gilded dreams of. unrealities, how bitter are- our regrets?how disappointed those brilliant hopes and prospects that lured us istray .by their dazzling deceitfulnesB. , Some one has remarked that' realities never ;onten? us* The present is probably as fine a ralley as there ie-in the whole region of life. Rut-the woods are nothing but woods, shady If la fvna ' dn/1 iwaam * ahUa a-4' .? i? ??wv| uuu gaoou, uuv \juiwu V? U lliai J. J mo rtrearas are excellent, .but we would have beds )f pearl in place of those deceitful pebbles.? Ih! there mustbe. woods and sweeter dreams jeyond the bine hill, yonder..:. So we travel; jut.tbe soft and dreamy future becomes plain ipd hard reality as .we proceed.: Those very ocks weIfrea^ once, looked lovely under the warm haze of hope; so shall the charm of the joodly heights beforenajnelt'away, and show is, as we climb, jusWeufeh.ledges, gnarled oaks, jhasms, morasses,.wild pines and barren slopes ui we Jiave passpd.?Sptritjf the Age. r ^ \ * t- , _ rw " - ' Tiuwar on ths South.?The New York Courier and Enquirer which takes strong ground or the restoration of the Missouri Compromise, lays: ; *' ."'v'/'".: "Not^nly must the Missouri Compromise be estored, fcut until restored, Kansas should never >e admitted inta-the Union, either as a free or lave' State. Her Very: existence is a Kbel on i ? ?.1 / -?it juuen* HT^jBitvuuu, nuu am rinr as uriwuwiwio, <? mist be Ignpred" n ?.' y<^et'\ ' .* , A Pretty' Story; -* Well, I think its likely', but don't tease me any'rapre. Your-brother has married a poor girl, one . whom I forbade him to marry, and I won't fqrgive him if they starvetbgether." This speech was addressed to a lovely girl -scarcely eighteen, beautiful as the lily that hides itself beneath the dark waters. She was parting the silvery locks on her father's high, handsome * _ i J ? t t i _ _ *..i" / roreneao,oi wmcn ner own was a miniature, and pleading the cause of her delinquent brother, who had married in opposition to her father's will* and consequently been disinherited. Mr. Wheally was a rich old gentleman, a resident of Boston. He was a fat, good natured oid fellow, somewhat given to mirth and wine, and sat in his arm-chair from morning until right smoking his pipe and reading the newspapers. Sometimes a story of hiaown exploits in our revolutionary battles filled up a passing hour. He had two children, the disobediont son, and the beautiful girl before spoken of. Tffe fond girl went on pleading : , " Dear father, do forgive him; you don't know what a beautiful girl ho has married and?" " I think its likely, said the old man, but don't tease me, and open the door a little, Tthis plaguy room smokes so." "Well" continued Ellen, " Won't you just see her now?she is so go od, and the little boy, he looks so innocent." " What did you say ?" interrupted the father; " a boyj have L a grandchild ? Why Ellen, I never knew that before 1 but J think it's veiy likely. Well, now give me ray chocolate, and then go to your music lesson." Ellen left him. The old man's heart began to relent. * 4 Well," he went on, "Charles was always a good boy a little wild or so at College, but I indulged bim ; and he was always good to his old father for all, but he disobeyed me by marrying this poor girl; yet as ray old friend and fellowsoldier, Tom Bonner used to say, we must forgive. Poor Tom ! I would give all the old shoes T t 1.1. i _L.i i i.: room in my Louse for us all." "Oh, how happy we shall be!" she exclaimed, "Ellen and her father will love our little Thomas so, and he'll be your pet won't he father?" "Ay," said the old man, "I think its very jikely." Wife.?There is no combination of letters in the English language which excites more pleasand interesting associations in the mind of iL. J iiihu man me wuru wue. ^ There is magic in this little word. It sends to the mind's eye a cheerful companion, a disinterested adviser, a nurse in sickness, a comforter in misfortune, and a faithful and ever affectionate friend. It conjures up the image of a lovely and confiding woman, who cheerfully under- . takes to contribute to your happiness?to partake with you the cup, whether of weal or woe, which destiny may offer. The word wife is synonymous with the greatest earthly blessing; and we pity the unfortunate wight, who is condemned by fate's severe desree to trudge along tJSpugh life's dull pilgrimage without one. Lovb and Mathematics.?Mdlle d'Launyj. ' a French authoress of the eighteenth century,' , whose Writings were distinguished by their piquant delicacy and correctness of judgment, thus writes concerning one who had formed an early attachment for her:?Monsieur de Rey . always showed me great attachment. I dis-.; j covered by slight indication, some.dimunition in ( his passion.# I often went to see Mademoiselle , d'Epinar, at whose house he almost always was. j As she lived very near my convent, I generally ] returned on foot and he never faired to offer me j his arm to conduct me home. . We had to ( pass through a large square. Then I saw ( that he crossed it in die middle, whence that I ( concluded that his love-had at least diminished ( by the difference between the diagonal and the two sides square. . i Paste that ib Pa3T*.?Dissolve an ounce of alum in a quart of warm water when cold,, add fj as ranch floor as will make it the consistence of i ereamj then strew into it as much powdered t rosin as win stand on a shilling, and two or three fc ' ?--? ? A 1-4 .It lU I Cloves} 0011 it. to n oodsismuub, lumuj^ oil mo i ? time. It wilikeep for twelve month*, and when I r dry, many be softened with water. 1 r . -. ?- * .1 -.v. ? S i i nave got, iu mjow wuaiever oeeuiue ui iinu. If I could but find him or one of his children I Heaven grant they are not suffering! This plaguey smoky room, how my eyes water ? If I did but know who this girl was my Charles has married; but 1 have never heard her name. Til find out and? ? "I think it's likely," said the old man. Ellen led into the room a beautiful boy, about two years old. His curly hair and rosy cheeks could not but make one love him. "Who is that?" said the old man, wiping his eyes. "That?that is Charles' boy," said Ellen, throwing one of her arms around her father's neck, while with the other she placed the child on his knee. The child looked tenderly up in his face and lisped out;? "Grandpa what makes you cry so?" The old man clasped the child to his bosom, kissed him again and again. After this emotion had a little subsided, he bade the child tell his name. "Thomas Bonner Whoatly," said the boy, "I'm named after grandpa." "What do I hear?" said the old man, "Thomas Bonner your grandfather!" "Yes," lisped the boy, "and he lives with me at " _ . "Get my cane," said the old man, "and come Ellen; be quick child." They started off at a quick pace, which soon brought them to the poor, though neat lodgings of his son. There he beheld bis old friend, Thomas Bonner, seated in one corner, weaving baskets while his swathed limbs showed bow unable he was to perform his necessary task. His lovely daughter, the wife of Charles was out seeking employment to support his needy family. "* "It's all my fault," sobbed the old man as he embraced his friend, who wa9 petrified with amazement.. "Come," said Mr. Wheatly, "come all of you with me, we will live together, there is plenty of \ - -Colds.' " How do yOu do 1" /Pretty AveU,- thank* you, only I have.gnt a dreadful cold".*'. -:We have hpard.'lhal question 'a'nd answer. so" frequently of late, that, we begin to' suspect; it lis the pass word to rfome h?w order, t Every.body has a cold now-a-days; for ourselves, we' have one ihfct-wpuld do credit.to a native JVlexioan.dropped snddenly^nto Green Mid, arid^-3 a bit of sympathy does one get in bis affliction. If you have a tooth-ache or a head-ache, Or the gout, or an ague, every'niarr you meet is ready In oivfl vnn fiirt v roinnHina nvora. nna nNivliinh he can declare from'diis personal knowledge to be infallible: but a cold lovery body ha9 them, and the only response you get fa, 41 Ah, indeed; colds are very prevalent now a-days.1.^ ' The subject is one of such universal interest that the following passages from the Jojirnal of Health cannot fail to prove interestingHOW DO PEOPLE TAKE COLD. Not by tumbling into the river and draggling home.wet as a drowned rat; not by .'being pitched into the mud, or spilled out in the snow in sleighing time.; not by. walking for hours over the shoe top in mud; not by soaking in the rain without an umbrella ;'not by scrubbing the floor until the unnameable sticks to you like a wet rag; not by hoeing potatoes nntil you are in a lather of sweat; not by trying to head a pig in mid-winter, and induce him to run the other way, for he won't-de any such thing: not bV steaming over the wash-tub; not by essaying to teach Biddy to make mince pies for Christmas, when you don't know yourself, and then worrying yourself into a perspiration because the pies stuck to the pan, and came out in a muss, forgetting that pie-pans, like people, are rather the better lor- a little greasing, alias soft soap; these are not the things which give people colds; and yet people are all the time telling us how they "caught their death by exposuro." *** - The time for biking cold is after taking exercise; the place is in your own houBe, or office, or counting room. It is the getting cool too quick after exercising. For example you walk very fast, to get to the railroad station ; or to the ferry ; or to catch an omnibus; or to make time for an appointment; your mind being ahead of you, the body makes an extra effort to keep up with it; and when you get to the desired spot, you raise your hat and find your self in a perspiration; you take a -seat, and feeling quite comfortable as to temperature, you begin to talk with a friend ; or, if a New Yorker, to read a newspaper; and before you are aware of it, you experience a sensation of chilliness, and the thing is done! You look around to see where the cold comes, and find a window/ open near you, or a door, or that you have taken a seat at the forward part of the car, and it moving ngains^ the wind, a strong draft is made through the crevices. Young ladies take their colds in grandly dark parlors unused and unfired for a week ; warm euuugii were tuuy, aimuat tuu warm iu uie goj, sun-shiny street without; and that parlor felt comfortably cool at first, but the last curl of the visited would not dangle satisfactorily, and while compelling it, (young ladies now-a-days make it a point of principle not to be thwarted in anything, not even in wedding rich Tom to please the old folks, when they love poor Dick and intend to please themselves,) while conquering that beautiful but unruly curl, the visitor makes an unexpected meeting with a chill, which calls her to the?grave. I cannot give further space to illustrations to i .1 . O iL . f arrest trie attention ot me careless, nut win reiterate the principle for the thoughtful and observant: get cool slowly. A Skull with a Tongue.?When Dr. John Donne, the famous English poet and divine of the reign of James I., attained possession of his first living, he took a walk into the churchyard, where the sexton was at the time digging a grave, and in the course of his labor threw op a skull. This skull the doctor took into his hands and found a rusty headless nail sticking in the temple of it, which he drew oot secretly and wrapped in the corner of his handkerchief. He then demanded of the grave-digger whether be knew whose skull that was. He said it was , a man s wno Kept a ?*ranay snop?an oonesr, drunken fellow who one night having taken two quarts, was found dead in his bed next : morning. "Had he a wife?" "Yes" ''What j character does she bear ?" " A very good one:; 1 only the neighbors reflect on her because she married the day after her husband was buried." j This was enough for the doctor who under the pretence of visiting his parishioners, called on the woman. He asked her several questions, ' and among others what sickness her husband . died of. She giving him the same account he '] had before received, he suddenly opened the handkerchief, and cried in an authoritative voice ?"Woman, do you know this nail?". 'She was ; struck with horror at the unexpected demand, instantly owned the fact, and was brought to ] i i ..I m i ' >.i inai ana execuiea. xruiy mignc one say, wun ] even more point than Haraletj that that" skull | had a tongue in it. " . ( - > ; i ' i , Homicide ik Lexington.?We learn that-Mr. -j Daniel'Jacobs was killed, on Friday, evening | 28th ult., on his farm near Spring Hill, Lexington, { District, by Mr. Nathan Richardson, ?. near f neighbor. Both these men were highly rcspec- s table.citizens, and the difficulty, one of long ^ standing originated-about a disputed' line be- j tween their lands. They met at the point of . dispute, each armed with guhsjwhen Richardson r shot him?thirteen* buck shot penetrating lib' x heart. Joseph Counts, esq:,acting as coroner, e held an inquest, on Saturday morning, on the jody, when Mr. Richardson promptly surrender^ 0 ;d himself to the^cera of the flaw and * was a jommitted to jail. ' His counsel. Henry Summer ssq., of Newberry we understand, will. make - an tarly application for bail in his behalf. ^ ' 7 . South Carolinian. . r . . , - - ' , " Jt t T - j.. * Thr Author ard His Work.?t A Porto " ruese sculptor, Who was suspected of free think- ^ ng, was at .the point of death. A Jesuit Who to fame to confess hira/holding a crucifix before dweyes, said, "Behold that God whom yoq & tave so modi offended. Do yon recollect him ?' iow r M Alas! yes, father," replied the dying ? nan," it was I wha made him. . .. tj *" r- > * : >' . *> .. * * ; # A Dnrk Pltmre?l ih? ?wta, t .A ecjfre^pdndenLlie New"York Observer " ihu8~daguerreo types tlmSuisH/ofthe -presenr dayiT" My.estimate 'of the Swiss character b?* wo fully depreciated' since I have, travelled among tbese mountains. With a history audi as'Greece might befnroudof, and a race of V . roes that Rome neverelccelfedfii thedarrwjfjffln women Vonld be mother*. only to bave^soha, for -warriors, the Swiss oeoble liow art' at a point of national and soQjsj^depression painful to contemplate.**-7Tl|ey^JRndebted largely ta * the .defences of nature for the comparatir'e liberty they eiyoy, and perhaps lo. the tame sr. elusion" is to preferred the' waOt of a" thousand comforts of Iife t^TifcH In'jfriproved st#t? of society brings. Al^the rotnrihcg of s8wt? cottage ia^ken'opt^of tbe travelle^a rhrr.d.rt* moment be outers ond of these tobbif^ndf seek s refreshment or rest* * 'I'he saddest marks of poverty meet bim at tbe^door.> Th6^sarrfi ' roof istbejshelterof man, woman and bsut. Tlte same room is often the bed chamber of ?ii : e.?i ?i 4t~* ~y?*->-?.i ta? "? am u^aiivT ivuiij anifirliab UllseniU/Jf prepsreo, is consumed without those domestic .arrangements which make life aj hontp a Io*ury.~ There is no future to the mind ofa Swiss youth. He., loves to live as his'father Iiv6d; and that is the end of life with him. . Perhaps he may have a gun, and in that ca4e,-. to be--the best ' shot in the valley may fill his ambition ; or '\t: he-is strong in the. arms and logs, he may aim at distinction in the games which once a^jeaf are held at some hamlet in the Canton, where the wrestlers and runners contend for victcay, and others throw weights and leap bars, as of old in Greece, when kings were not as&uhed^ioenterthe list Many , of the youth of Swlt- \ zerland are willing to sell themselves^-Swise: soldiers?hired, to be shot at, aHd. shoot any body a foreign despot may send them to slay ;. a service so degrading and fit the same.time'm>. decidedly hazardous to life and limb, with- ao pjor a chance/or pay, that none buth-* people far gone in social degradation would be willing thus to make merchandise of their blood. Yet they have fought battles bravely witfi none of the. stimulus of patriotism, and thehr blood haa been as freely poured out for tyrantrwho hired tbe-n, as if they were bleeding fo/their, own and .the land of William TelL ;; r ; v. V - ; "V A Brave Woman.?A pair or Greeks Dome for.?A family named Lomont, residing in the < vicinity of Rhinebeck during the past winter employed an Irishman, who came to their house one day for assistance to attend to the general out-door business of the house. The family thought be was an honest and ' industrious roan, until a few days ago, when he went to Mrs. Lamont and desired some money, saying he waa going away. Mrs. Lamont,'3 not having the change with her, told him to go to the village and see her husband, who was there ou business and he would give it to him. He accordingly did so and obtained the money he wanted. The next morning, when Mr. Lamont got up to makd the fire, he found the windows and doors all open, and all tbe knives, forks, chairs die., lying around the dining room. He immediately called bis wife, who^as soon as possible, came down and on going into the room where the man slept, she found him in bed. ou- il i - v_ i-r * ? ? * one lutiu oegan 10 iook aooui lor UCr tilings, and found almost all of hersilk dresses missing, together with her gold rings aid s chain and a number of other very valuable articles. Suspicion immediately rested upon the Irishman, who was arrested, and, on his being brought before a justice confessed his guilt, and was sent to prison for twenty days. In his room were found the chain and in a place called the Hollow, hear the house, were found all the silk dresses, which he had taken to the village to.iell, bat finding no one to bay them, hid them, in that place. y. Two or three days after the. bccurrenoe, while Mrs. Lamont was in the house all alone, she thonght she heard footsteps in* the , parlor, and on going up into tluf room, she perceived a tall, raw-boned Irshman in the room, and just about to enter into her bedroom, with .a big stick, about three feet. long. She demanded what business he had in her house, when he Informed her that it was his house, and that if sho did not go out of it he would soon make her, tbatfthej had sent one of his countryman to jail, and he waa going to have revenge.^ ' ' , Finding she could not get him out, she went *' into an adjoining robm, where her httsband had a loaded'rousket and cocking it,- went baek to the parlor, and bringing the musket up level with his head, (old him to-depairt^ that if-hetflid not she would blow bis brains out. 'The fellow, not liking the looks of the instrument, began to inov$ off, and as horrent,she- followed with the tnusket up to his head for a distance of nearly a quarter of a.mlle, when she was met'by 'some men, who look him into custody. To Make Home Interesting,?Every time your husband comes in up and tell him that Bridget baa broken anotberone of them yaller platters, and then branch off-on those distressed people up-si airs, who will pebist Mn throwing iv\lnfrtA rvn?I?*/? ?** Ah - ^ "* ** ^ "* * jA/wvuD |/anu|ja.]|ivu LUC ITOUt HreS. JieVlQg disposed of this, tell himlthat the butter he sent iorae is strong enough to pull a tow-boat while ,he beefsteak which icame from ?Mu,tton^ the iutcher^arrived iust in time to get i up r fight jetween. the roaltese cat andoldhrindle dog?ft ight that terminated with the lots of the steak ind the gain of two quarts .of assorted hair. As toon as this strikes in; tell him the wood is ovA md that Mr, Anthracite has Sent around again, orthe afmount oflhatcoa^bilb If you couki hrow.jn here's W hints about yow wanting ft lew .dress, and thai.little Bobby lookif kadf ho vas getting the small pox, the effect will bft ilectricel. ; . ;* . > -X' " Wives who like to rave their husband's smell "" f hot toddy and cigar srooke^ should eot the bove oat and practice on it -A .* K?' <' ' . Uhnrcksary Expknbs.?It has been catenfch ?d,that thecost'-of washing linen that rtighi ist as well be-worn two days longer, amounts > enough in this country to more than' defray ie expenses of the'American Board of Forehra [issiobst The expense ofbuttons wort on (fee act of our coats, where tiwyaw of no ttrthty w, is eqaaItoJ?$upporl lyhitiwl T^1oerftailsto<lfwico?^<ofeo Uuexn reaflpifof w?mth or convenience.) actually greater thanthecort of our tscefttot stem of common flbtfiidtj. . yW. $. <T n ftTatiiinfi . ss. -it. r-iPfft/t,