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I,, O 1etrAic 3*urnal, iwoott to tI3e Snutbj anb Souil3en aig1ts, potitics, Cattet flenr, Citerature, 1*twdraitt, Ecinptrante, agt uLture, &c "We will cling to the Pillars of the Temple of our Liberties. and if it must fall, we will Perish amidst the Ruins. SIMKINS, DURISGE & CO., Proprietors. ED EFIELD S. C. MARCH 11, 1857. "HARK! I HEAR AN ANGLE SING." Hark ! I hear an angel sing, Angels now are on the wing; And their voices singing clear, Tell us that the Spri::g ismear. Dost thou hear, then, gentle one Dost thou see the glorious Sun, Rising higher in the sky. As each day, as each day it passes by. Hark! I hear, &c. Just behind you cliff of snow, Silver rivers brightly flow ; Smiling woods and fields are seen, Mantled in a robe of green. Birds, and Bees, and Fruits and Flowers, Tell us all of vernal hours, Where the birds are weaving lays, For the happy, the happy Springtime days. Hark ! I hear, &c. Look, oh look, the Southern sky Mirrors flowers of every dye ; Children trippling o'er the plain Spring is coming back again. " Spring is coming, shouts of glee, Singing birds on bush and tree, And the birds with their merry hums, For the Springtime comes, the Spring time comes. Hark! I hear," &c. THE LOVER TO HIS BETROTHED. The hills do kiss the sky, love ! The rippling waves, the shore ! And there are lips that I, love, Mlay hope to kiss once more. The skies embrace the sea, love ! s The seas embrace the earth! In this embrace, e'en thee, love, I hope to clasp thy worth. The stars have wed with night, love ! With day hath wed the sun ! But I know one as bright, love, And I would wed that one. iscdianwu ~eait CHARACTER BETTER THAN CREDIT. We often hear young men who have small means, dolefully contrasting their lot with that of rich men's sons. Yet the longer we live, the .i more we are convinced.that the old merchant was right, who said to us when we began life, "industry, my lad, is better than ingots of gold, I .yapbha-oredit'.NWp could furish if need were, from our own expe rience, a score of illustrations to prove the truth of his remarks. In all branches of business, in all avocations, character, in the long run, is the best capital. Says Poor Ricwrd: The sound of your hammer at five in the morning, or nine at night, heard by a creditor, makes him easy six months longer; but if he sees you at a bil liard table. or hears your voice at a tavern, when you should be at work, he sends for his money the next day. What is true of the young mechanic, is true also of the young merchant, or the young law yer. Old and sagacious firms will'iot long con tinue to give credit for thousands of dollar: when they see the purchaser, it a young man. driving fast horses or hanging around drinking saloons. Clients will not intrust their case to those advocates, however, brilliant, who frequent the card table, the wine party or the race course. It is better, in beginning life, to secure a reputa tion for industry and probity, than to own hou ses and lands, if with theam you have no char acter. A facility of obtaining credit at the ouset is1 often an injury instead of a benefit. It makes1 the young beginner too venturesome, tills im1 with direams of too early fortune, tempts him too much to neglect hard work, forethought,I caution and economy. Excessive capital is as frequently a snare to young men. It has almost passed into a proverb, in consequence, that the sons of rich men never make good business men. To succeed in life we must learn the value of money. But a superfluity of means at the out set is nearly a Certain method of rendering us insensible to its value. No man ever grew rich who had not learned and practiced the adage, "if you take care of the pennies the dollars will take care of themselves." Knowledge of nmen, self-discipline, a thorough mastery of our pursuit, and other qualifications, which all per sons of experience look for, are necessary to give the world security that a young man is of the right metal. Capital may be lost, but char acter never. Credit once gone, the man without character falls. But lie who has earned a repu tation for capacity, integrity and economy, even if he loses his capital, retains his credit, and i ses triumphianit over bankruptcy itself. A man with character can never be ruined. It is the first thing that a young man should seek to secure ; and it may be had by every one who desires it in earnest. A poor boy with chiarac ter is more fortunate by -far than a rich manl's son without it. " NEVER BAD A OFFER." Look at her as she sits sewing by the window with the clear light on her forehead, and a cher ry smile brightening her whole countenance ! Many a maid less fair of face, less gently bi ed, less kindly dispositionedl, goes to the bridal al tar every day. True her cheeks have lost the first fresh flush of early maidenhood ; her form is not so round and symimetrical as it was a few years since; and the'shining braids of her dark hair have parted with somewhat of their old luxurmianice and gloss. But look deeper into her blue eyes and y ou will see there womunly puri ty, serenity of thought aiid earnestness of pur pose enocugh to counterbalance these deficiences. You wvil! read the expression of a heart that puts its own loneliness under foot, and compels it to lift her one step towards a higher life that has strung the spotless lilies of contentment upon the very cord which binds her back from the mated lot of other women. Never had an offe! What a pity ! There are wives who sell themselves for gold to husbands they cannot love-.willing to exchange the white pearls of maidenly truth and purity, for paste board jewels, so that they only glitter in golden setting. There are others, (in shame and pity for my sex I say it,) who prefer marrying their inferiors in mind and he.:rt, linking themselves to pollution even, rather than carry to the grave the honest nam'e bequeathed to them in the cradle. They are the ones that angle for hus bands, who dehight in "offers," who despise "old maids." Among thema you will find the heartless, extravagant woman of fiahion, and the Mrs. Caudles of domestic life. Following in their train are bankrupt busines men, hen pecked Imsbandea spailed children. Never had an offer! Perhaps if she had strayed farther from the charmed ground of genuine modesty and womanly worth-if fash ionable novels had occupied the place of the work-basket-if she had drained the purse of a hard-working father to gratify a foolish pride of dress, or been content toshinea giddy, mincing, artful attendant at balls and fashionable partie4, instead of a gentle, self-sacrificing, ministering angel in the home-circle, she might, ere now, have enjoyed the blessed privilege of devoting the dregs of her wasted life to the service of some smitten simpleton or dissipated roue. Never had an offer ! Probably she never will have one. There will be no strong hand clasped in her's to lead her safely when her unsteady feet are crossing the quicksand of evil; no dear voice to whisper that she is all the world to one true heart when her life rings like a hollow mansion with the echoes of its own solitude ; no rosy children to clasp her neck and nestle in her bosom. But if she must give up this sweetest part of woman's destiny because no whole-heart ed, worthy man ever asked her to bless his path with her companionship, she, at least has not manmuvered for it vainly, and staked the holiest portion of her nature on the throw for a hus band. God bless her ! HOSPITALITY. We Americans are not noted for very emi nent social qualities. We are not a remarkably hospitable people. As a nation, we are still in the morning of life; that season of activity and independence, when the heart is too busy and too ambitious, to devote much time to the plea sures of friendship. The yankee has not yet dined, and sat down for an easy after dinner chat. Ile loves conversation, conviviality, coin panionship, as well as any man ; but he has had time as yet only to snatch a hasty breakfast ; he is eagerly earning his dinner, which he means shall be a good one; and will liberally invite all his friends to supper; with which pleasant pros peet before him, he is perhaps too intently ab sorbed in preparing for the generous enjoyment. of the evening of life. It is the fault of youth-or is it a merit 7 to anticipate and postpone. The present good is never good enough. The joys of to-day are mean ; we shall have better to-morrow ; and still better next week, and next year. And so the golden hours of youth escape us, and we row prematurely old. Ten to one but we have become dyspeptic, by the time dinner is ready ; md when our evening leisure is earned, and our house set in order, and our friends arrived, we find that too much toil and care has destroyed >ur capacity for free enjoyment. Thus industrious forethought, which has its nestimable uses, is capable of abuse. It is like some excellent medicines; an over-dose is hurt 'ul. And it seems to us that the Yankee has trunk the contents of the vial, well shaken be 'ore taken. The'dram flies to his head, and he s slightly tipsy. But let him alone, he will be riser some day. He must have his way, and ork out his own salvation. He is no worse han the rest of the world ;-but he began poor ; mdghgehnnl-of-a& g ea im ,... " Early frugal, like h beggar's child." lIs heart is warm and generous ; and tl is lack f iospitality with which he is charged, is the esult of pinching circumstances. lie is con cious of the defect; and, ashamed of it, lie ecks to make amends by excessive display. A. oon as he is ab e, he makes haste to build hint fine mansion, and invites the world to come aud see it, and drink his champagne, and eat his ce-creams. His tables are loaded ; .his drawing -ooms blaze with gas. But this is not hospital ty, this is not social enjoyment ; he knows it, mnd his friends know it;-but it is a munificent pology, and pride, if not love, is satisfied. L'rue hospitality is a creature of habit and cul .nre. The man who has spent all his days in a :ounting house, cannot enter a splendid parlor. mnd make it comfortable to his friends. He has mu art to learn; and it will take him long to rush off' the dust of business and assume the Marments of social ease. Nor does true hospitality stand greatly in ieed of a fine mansion, gas-light and champagne. 'ordiality and welcome are its essential at tri utes. We have secen the farmer in his homely atchen, the mechanic at his simple board, as Jroadly and as richly hospitable as any prince >f the earth. For the gentleman of fashion and ortune-for the owner of large estates-for thc naster of many semvuts-lavishiness and atten tion towards guests, is a matter too cheap to be boasted of; but the heart's welcome is always rich-thiere is nothing so dear and precious; it s nog'espector of persons, it requires no letters >f introduction, no talisman of aristocratic pre entions ; but in the face, in the eye, it reads :he name of brother, and bids him enter, to be :oforted and-cheered. This self-forgetfulness, :his ready sympathy, is the secret of hospitality ; mud of this there are generous fountains in the Aierican heart, waiting for the rubbish of care, md ambition, and vanity to be removed. SAcREDNEss OF TEAs.--There isa sacrednes i tears. They are not t!:e mark of weakness, but of power. T1hey speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the nmes mngers of overwhelming grief, of deep contri ion, of unspeakable love. If there were want ing any argument to prove that man is not mortal, I would look for it in the strong, conl ulsive emotion of the breast, when the soul fns been deeply agitated; when the fountains f feeling are rising, and when tears are gushing orth in crystal streams. 0, speak not harshly f the stricken one-weeping in silence ! Break not the solemnity by rude laughter, or intrusive ootsteps. Despise not a woman's tears-they are what make her an angel. Scoff' not if the tern hearmt of manhood is sonmetimes umelted to .ynmpaty-they are what help to elevate him bove thme brute. I love to see the tears of af lection. They are painful tokens, but still most onl. There is pleasure in tears-an awful. plesure! If there were none on earth to shed a tear for me, I should he lothi to live, and if no oe might weep over my grave, I could never die i peace. TUHE righ teous man has a strong- tower that the sinner lacks. Hie is fitful to battle with olitude and fearful darkness ; an unseen light shines in upon his soul-an unseen hand sus tains him. The darkness is no darkness to hirm, for' the Sun of righteousness is nigh. In the deep solitude he is not alone, for good angels whisper by his side. " Yea, though he walk through the valley of & shadow of death, yet shall lie fear no evil, for God is with him ; his rod and his staff they comfort him." The wicked have not this comfort: to them darkness and solitude must be too horrible. Satan-not God is their companion. The ghosta of their past crimes rise and swell their present horror. Re morse and despair are added to the double gloe m of solitude and darkness. You don't know what you are doing whcn you shut up a poor lost sinner of excitable temperament in that dreadful hole,.(solitary imprisonment.) It is a wild experiment on a human frame. It has often been remarked that children will frequently n-k questions which even the wisest are puzzled to answer. "Mothaer," exclainmed Jittle Charley,9.a big w. ? wham van asa t kP CHEERFULNESS. There is no quality that so much endears man to his fellow-men as cheerfulness. Talents may excite more respect, and virtues more esteem. But the respect is apt to be distant, and the es teem cold. But it is otherwise with cheerful ness. It endears a man to the heart-not the intellect or the imagination. There is a kind of reciprocal diffusion about this quality, that recommends its possessor by the very effect it produces. There is a mellowed radiance in the light it sheds on all social intercourse, which pervades the soul to a depth that the blaze of in tellect can never reach. The cheerful man is a double blessing-a blessing to himself and the world around him. In his own character, his good nature is the clear blue sky of his olyn heart, on which every star of talent shines out more clearly. To oth ers, he carries an atmosphere of joy, and hope, and encouragement wherever he moves. is own cheerfulness becomes infectious and his as sociates lose their moroseness and their gloom in the amber-colored light of the benevolence he casts around him. Is it true that cheerfulness is not always hap piness. The face may glow in smiles while the heart runs in coldness and darkness below, but cheerfulness is the best external indication of happiness that we have, and it enjoys this ad vantage over almost every other quality, that the counterfeit is as valuable to society as the reality. It answers as a gmedium of public cir culation, full as well as true coin. A man is worthy of all praise, whatever may be his private griefs, who does not intrude them on the happiness of his friends, constantly con tributes his quota of cheerfulness to the gene ral public enjoyment. "Every heart knows its own bitterness," but le. the possessor of that heart take heed that he does not distill it into his neighbor's cup, and thus poison his felicity. There is no sight more commendable and more agreeable than to see a man whom we know fortune has dealt with badly, smother his pecu liar griefs in his own bosom, and do his duty in the society in which Providence has placed him, with an unruffled brow and a cheerful mein. It i.s a duty which society has a right to demand a portion of that great chain which binds hu manity together, the links of which every one should preserve bright and unsullied. It may be asked, what shall that man do whose burdens of grief are heavy, and made still heavier by the tears he has shed over them in private ; shall he leave society ? Certainly until he has learnt to bear his own burden. Shall lie not seek for the sympathy o1 his friends? He had better not. Sympathy would only weaken the masculine strength of mind which enables us to endure. Besides, sympathy unsought for is much move readily given, and sinks deeper in its healing effects into the heart. No, no! cheerfulness is a duty which every man owes to the world. Let him faithfully discharge the debt. WOMEN. It is a noted faet that the ladies are becoming 0"ggid eftrug ... Sometinejback we Ebsrved in ur exchanges, that it was a cam non thing for women, particularly at the Spring, - have on hand from seventy-five to three hun. dred dresses. Recently we observed that it was ..-io.nable for those in large cities to have an innumerable number o.f dresses, and never to wear the sane a second time. Certainly there cannot be many of this number. If there wa., one only of the thousand casualities that are hap peing every day in the week, and almnst every hour, would deprive them of such vain-glorion iotions, and make them feel that life was good for something else-more than mere aecumulation ,f dresses, or the childish notion of exhibiting a new plaything. We cannot help feeling a senti anent of pity f->r such women, whose sole, entire existence is thus dissipated and spent between a dry goods store, a dressing-rm.mn and the parade ground. We otentimes think, have inch wo men any heart ? Have they the feeling of daugh er,wife,siter,or mother? have they eter loved ? Do they kno.w anmy of. thme w.omnly pleasures of naking daily macrilices for toted ones? or the keen eation when the se.lf-denminl gi vesan added grat. iiationi or soothies uone momenit's paini ? No, alas! h'ey canmnt feel this, becauste they are encrusted n sellishness,anid ozmlynmppreeiate thai which min-. isters to their vamnity and self love. The woman is conicealed. bidden, covered up. and somnetines wholly dies out under thiis mass of glittering cor ruption. Such women as those are found not only in ries, bt in villages and eveni in the cotuntry. Yet to this rtihe, there are discovered some ex ~ep:ionis. Yes there atre iomien who are women in every sense of the world-not dolls to carry siks, flounced and flushed, mantillas, and jewels -not pup~pets to be flattered by profane adora tion,. reverenced to-damy anid discarded to-morromv, always jostled out of the place whtich nature nti society would as..igni them, by sensuality or contempt ; admired, but not respected; desired. bit not esteemed; ruled by passion, tnot affec tion ;impatrtitng their weakness, not their con sanv, to the sex they could exalt ; the sonree and mnirror of va:nity. We say there aure women whom we see as wives partaking of the care ad cheering the anmxiety of hiusbatnds, dividing their toils by domestic intelligetice, spreaditng cheerfulness around them, for their husbamnd's sake sharing the decent refinement s of the world, without beitig vain of them, plncing all their joys amid happiness in thme men they love. As mothers, we tinid theta the affectionate instruc tress oif their children whom they ha~ve tended from their infnney, training them in thought anid benevoence, addressing them as rationalh beinigs, preparinir them to becomie men and women in turn.- ewbery Riit:g Suri. A NEw-F~simwuN REEI..-" It begins by soec six or eight couples waltzitng: a chair is suddenly introdluced into the ceiitre, in which the first gentleman seats his partner. ie then leds tip, and lmr.esents tacht of the other gentle m-ui in succession. If the lady rejects, the dis carded retires behind tho chair; but when the "right man," as the old snyn goes arrives, she springs up, the tone and accent of the music are accelerated, and off she waltzes with the elected -the rest seize their partners, and the circle is continued. All in turn go- through the process. Three chairs are tl en placed. A lady (in suc cession) is seated between two bearers, who immediately solicit her reluctant regard, till at length she gives herself to one, and waltzing is resumed. A gentleman is then seated in a cen tre chair, hoodwinked, and a lady takes the place on each side. In this perplexity of choice the Tantaltis of the mirth remains, till, by a sudden resolution, lie decides for right or left, uncovers his eyes, and waltzes away with his chance-directed partner, followed, as before, by the rest. The chairs are now placed triangu larly, dus-a-dos, and three ladies are thus seated. The youths pace around them in a circle till each of the fair.ones throws her handkerchief, and away they tugain whirl. The men then ap pear to deliver to each, but to one alone is given a ring, and the dance concludes by the ladies pas~ingr, hand in hand, through arches made by the extended arms of the gentlemen, and each seizes his partner, and once more swingr around th circle. We have learned that this dance .maw educed1in all the che khshieA DO YOU OWE THE EfRTER Come sinful debtor, in whose breast Some conscience may revolve, Come with your coward fear oppressed, And make this wise resolve: I'll seek the printer, though my debts Have like a mountain rose, I know his wants, I'll pay him off, Whatever may oppose. Perhaps he may take my excuse Perhaps believe Iie But if I perish I will pay, And then his thoughts defy. - Straiglitway I'll to his sanctum go, And see him faeego face; I'll boldly " frrk thetin" that's due, And thank him fYr his grace. Although ashamed thus late to go, I am resolved to try, For if I stay away Iknow In infamy I'll diet I know his patient nature well, Delinquents he'll orgive; He'll kindly pardon 4ebtor's sins, And bid such suppliants live. FACY DANcEs-WH E THEY CAME FROM. -It is very true that w tzes, polkas, redowas, schottisches and all thereat, are importations from over the water. ut it is equally true that the importers do ri bring them from the fashionable circles of ris. They come in a more direct line from ce in equivocal hot-beds of manners-the balls 'the " (ellarius" and " LaBurde," so well kno n to the demi-respec tables of Paris. For, a Paris, though there are always Young Ameripans enough to be seen on the promenade, it is rare to meet them in the saloons of good 'c . They prefer, usu ally, the other class of 'loons, mainly because the admission to the la r are vastly most easy -the fact of having plenty of money in your pocket being no passportat the door of a duch ess, and the best reonmendation elsewhere. And these more accessilje ladies are very ready to initiate young gentl *en into the mysteries of dancing. Young A rica, consequently, at Paris, gives up the braiis and legs to the over coining of the difficulties of the chorographic art, and with the practice of female partners that they have it is rarely that they do not be come of the premier fo a. The first thing after their return from travel~it is natural that these acomplished young g lemen should initiate some of the less favor' of their countrymen in the privileged secret-imparting to them, that is to say, the grace that they have learned from the free and eaiy{'ladies of Paris. It is from this school that emanates the waltzing which, in the city of . York, passes ihr the ne plux ultra of Pa ashion. Hence come those postures whicl . nd so yielding to the measure-those ext us qf the arms, like thdhinge ofg: . l t soft cheeks laid so confidingly on the shoulder of the gen tleman!-and those youthful beards mingling so freely with the curls, ribbons, flowers or other coiffures of the lady partners.-De Tru riaud in Cu'. rier des Etats Unis. You-rnrer. FaiN nsims.-What fond and generous friendanips are often bred among youthful companions in the bright epoch of school day life! Then the innocence, gaiety and hope of unsophisticated hearts create sky and laud anew, and robe the scene in their own suit hues. No cynic frost has fallen on our dis interested sympathies. The world has not laid its icy hands on our throbbing pulses. Our faith in each other, in whatever is lovely, virtu ous, heroic, knows no limits. Then how fre quent it is fur attachments to grow up, at whose stainless sincerity and tender romance we smile in after years, when, alas! in too many ca es, tie has hardly brought enough to compensate us fur what it has taken away ! Together we wander through the tield as tiirough enchanted rounds. We dream dreams resplendent with the triumphs we fondly vo and thiink to win. I the artlessniess of that pure time our secret souls are tran.,parent, anti in the unflawed clear ness of our communion we look through eacti other. Our joys, our griefs, our whole ,earts, are united in a free friendship, whose strength and closeness foretell a sweeter and nobler life than the fairest passages of history have yet relized. These halcyon unions rarely survive a full entrance upon the common plursuits of life. But they are prophetic., And when the cares of the world, the deceittulness of~ riches and many sins, come upon us and alienate us, still their' glorious oracles are never all forgot ten. They haunt us like voices from fairy land. And oft the cliffs and shores of' memory reverberate the plaintive echoes of our love, calling after milny a beautiful Hylas vanished from beside the fountain of youth. How often th remnembrunces of the friends and the friend ships of other days come back from the by gone times when we knew them, and ill our hearts as with the wild, sad melodies of an sEolian harp ! Who, as he reviews the hallowed hours that went so swiftly in the morning of life, and recalls the dear, familiar faces laid so early in the dust of the grave, would be asham ed to shed a tear to their mingled memory. Alger. FIFTY YEARS IIENCE.-Rt. Rev. Bishop Clarke -delivered a lecture in Cambridge on Tuesday evening of last week, taking for his subject, Fifty Years Hence. From a sketch in the Cambridge Chronicle, we take the follow ing extracts: "Fifty years hence the newly married pair will step into an emporium for the sale of houses, look over the book of pat terns, select one to suit their taste and means, order it, and it will be sent home in the morning, put to gether and occupied at night. "In travelling, as great changes will take place. Instead of the dusty road and crowded car, there will be a splendid Locomotive Hotel, fying over a road carpeted with turf and bor dered with shade trees, and heralding its ap proach with sweet music, instead of the de moniac shriek of tho steam-whistle, and labell od, Through from Iloston to San Francisco in four days. "Instead of the unsightly telegraph poles, there will be, fifty years hence, a net work un derground, and under the. bosom of th'e dead, and it will click off thoughts instead of words. Then the Electric Battery will light all the street lamps at once, enable all the clocks in the city to keep exact timne, and kindle the Beacons on the dangerous rocks, where now men hazard their lives and wear out their lone hen the author will Dot write by our slow poess, losing his rarest fancies, bu' he will sit down to the newest Invented Chirographical instruments, and putting his fingers on the 'keya write as fast as he can think." Everything is gained and nothing lost by courtesy. Good manars insure success. Ma 1rhm nothiqr so' iJraly as thekr adY(ve LONDON LABRUERS ANJ UUTannl uamliA . The late arrivals from England bring us ti dings of distress and destitution among the free laborers of London, which has no parallel in this country, except among the laborers in the free States, where similar scenes sometimes oc cur. With the double object of teaching our people the value of ;heir institutions, and to show our friends in free society that there is ample employment for all their benevolent im pulses elsewhere than among the negro slaves, we present the following glimpse at the beau ties of free society: The miseries of the 'unemployed classes in London continue to make themselves painfully apparent. The several police courts are be sieged daily by applicants for relief; and large group<, we learn, parade the streets, ehauntig words of distress, and bearing a public declara tion that they are out of wortk and want em ployinent. The proceedings at lie Mansion House may be taken as a type of what occur red at the other otfices. Three parties, de.scrib ing themselves respectively as a grainer, a house decorator, and a bricklayer, waited upon the Lord Mayor on Wednesday, to make application on the part of themselves and others. Here are their statements: The bricklayer said he had not been to the parish, and did not want to go, if there was a possibillity of getting work, or keeping away j at all. The house decorator said lie had a wife and child, and having been out of work for four. montas, had only been able to support thema by pledging and s.lling everything belonging to him ; except the clothes on their back<. Yes terday, being at the last push, he went, with 150 others, to the workhouse, where they were set to break stones, and at the end of the day he gut Is. and a quartern loaf, but ost of the men whgwere single got only 4d. or tld. and a half quartern loaf, after being all day without anything to eat. That was a very little, and the stone breaking had so blistered his hands, . that lie could not go to it again, for if he did, his hands would he in such a state as to make it impossible fur him to do anj work at his own business for three weeks or a month, even if he Ia got any. The poor fellow here held out his I hands, the palms of which, as he had said, were t blistered all .ver. The grainer said he did not appear so much C for himself as for the others, many of whom, I who had been twelve or twenty-four hours with out food, were growing very noisy. He had done t all lie could to keep them -quiet, but they were t growing desperate and threatened to have food f by fair means or foul, unless something was done for them, and that quickly. A good many of them were anxious to emigrate to Australia if they could get a free passage, and land to culti- a rate when got there. What a startling and instructive contrast to a all this is presented by tho institution of slave- a ry in the Southern State. ! At the very mo- t ment that the free laborers of London were howling through the streets, and beseeching the I Mayor to give them work, our slaves were quietly resting in their cabins, with no madden- f ing hunger torturing them by day, or corroding r care to disturb their slumbeniy night. .-Both classes of laborers were without work, but one I was pinched with hunger, frenzied by the suf- r ferings of wife and children, ready to starve if honest, or to plunder to satisfy the cravings of I hunger, while the other was comfortably hous ed, clothed and fed, saw wife and little ones r enjoying similar comforts, and was totally un- a concerned whether the morrow should be clear c or cloudy, as, in any event, his sustenance was sure. Without work the free laborer starved, s t..e slave laborer feasted; the former howled v as he ran through the streets seekiug work or bread, while the other sang cheerful songs, or a danced to the music of the banjo, as the wood c burned in the chimney, shedding warmth and light around. Which, let us ask the abolitionist, had the better portion, the free laborer with c his poverty, hunger, physical and mental an gish, or the negro slave with his plenty, con- I entment and comforts? Such are the contrasts constantly presented by free society and slave society. Whatever ' anciful, sentiniental notions may be entertaiedc bout I reedlom and slavery, no observant man can deniy that the free laborer is infinitely be-1 low our nugro slaves in all 'physical comforts,t cnveniences and enjoyments, and that slavery tvoids a thousand privations and sufferings toe hich the free laborer is subjected. Is theret othing in all this compensating the slave fort his subjection to the will and control of another ?r s self control so valuable that it must be re-i taned at the risk of starvation? Must a man perish for food, after seeing his wife and cuii iren perish, sooner than submit to the gover n met of' a master ? Does thme master's care of the slave, at seasons when there is no work to be had, and when free laborers starve, give hinm I o just claim upon the services and willing obe dience of the slave ?-Richmond Enquirer. THE SABDATH. The day of rest!i What old and pleasurable 1 associations are connected with the Sabbath To many, it will recall their childhood, andI bright, sunny Sabbaths, when they, as happy, lght-harted children, accompanied kind parents to a place of worship, there to offer up their in nocent prayers to heaven. Then of thme evenings spent so camly and happily, and of the family Bible, from whose pages a dear one would read, words of g'uidance and comfort. Perchance that voice is now silent-.the seal of death may have closed those lips-yet memory loves toI bring forth, from the shadowy past, scenes like these, andio place them again before us. Blessed day of rest ! How gladly art thou welcoed by the weary, hard-working class as a respite from incessant tauil. Visions of green fields and fresh, pure air flit before thme sons ad daughters of poverty; as each Sunday draws nigh, their careworn faces flush with pleasure, as they admire earth's beauties and', glorify God.j On the Sabbatlh a holy calm seems to rest upon all nature; everything is peaceful and still; even the birds' sweet songs seem to fall upon the ear with a softer cadence, and the music of the little rivulet, as it dashes along, bringst thoughts of peace and joy ; while, far away in the distance, the church-hells are ring forth their their invitation in softened tones-" Come-come," and quickly Christians hasten to obey the~ call1 with cheerfulness and alacrity, that indescriba ble look of peace resting upon many of their countenances, placed there by a quiet c, nacience. There is something very beautiful and sacred about the Sabbath, appointed, as it is, by the1 Almighty as a day of rest; and our hearts should fill with gi'atitude as we read the corn mandments. "Six days shalt thou labor and do 1 all that tho'u hast to do; but the seventh is the -Sabbth of the Lord thy God ; in it thou shalt do no manner of work." -Warerley Mamgazine. THE BIDL.E-Lieutenant Maurey, of the Na tional Observatory, in a lecture in New York said: " I have always found, in my scientific studies, that when T could get t'.e Bible to say anything on the subject, it afforded me a firm platform to stand upon and nther roundi ini the Iadderp yw a Iad~ 4 l!ait rANNYT ERN, nas tne crews of perpetrating the following on whiskers; she says: "I for one like the feeling of them, and think a handsome mouth fringed with a soft silky mous tache, has a moss rosy look that is quite invi ting." Indeed, Fanny, do you thinic so 7 There are I doubtless some other feminines who have the 1 same longings tho' few can be found with their t strong mind to acknowledge it. But I, for one, object to the wearing of hair at all on the up per lip, or within a finger's breadth of the mouth in any direction, and for good reason. i First, no man who eats at all, can possibly keep a clean skin under a moustache, (think of that!) V and then think of receiving a kiss through a bramble hedge, with eyes, nose and mouth ex posed, to be crammed with bristles instead of I moss rose," is perfectly horrible, indeed, im- I possible, for where is the "electric contact that :onstitutes the bliss of kissing?" And then to u alk of a handsome mouth, under such a cover! a [t is not only hidden, but absolutely deformed. I Just take a profile view of your hairy friend as ie takes his soup, (don't look long lest you . oose your gravity,) but notice the dropping md drippings "'twixt moustach and goatee." 'hen turn to your bearded terrier as he pitches nto his mush and milk. Is not the resemblance t striking? The only case where a moustache is ? allowable, is where there is deformity of fea- b ures which may be concealed by ,it, and then a f the hair is red. or the color of slack burnt F >rick, it may be a delicate matter to decide af hether the remedy is not worse than the dis use. HATTIE. a [Savannah Morning News. P SINGULAR SUIcIDr..-A letter from Vienna lated the 16th ult., in an English paper, says: "Two suicides have taken place here within b he last week. A singular event has occurred T .t Pestb, under tragic circu-u.tances. A Hun- a rian lawyer and his wife had arrived in the n ity with their young daughter, aged twelve h rears, for the purpose of soliciting an appoint- h nent as judge. Their general appearance was ai legant, and the lady had been much remarked t the theatres on account of the dazzling bril- b aney of her complexion. One evening the en- Ii ire fimily dressed as for a fete, went to the n yanks of the Danube, and, tied together by a ord, the child in tho middle, leaped into the n iver in the midst of the pieces of ice which to rere drifting by. A piercing shriek escaped " he mother, and with assistance the parents T rere dragged out, but the child had sunk. The ,' ther was dead, and the mother, on gaining the r hore, was found to be mad." t n PICTUR'OF A GooD WIFE.--Will our young h parks w..o are pleased to think of a wile as a elegant plaything, intended only to dress nd dance, visit and spend money, please look a t the following picture of a good wife, drawn 0 y the pencil of Solomon: Prov. XXXI.(7.) e Verse 10. Behold a virtuous woman, ir her rice is above rubies. 12. She riseth with day and prepareth break st for her household ; yea, before the sun has o isen she hath her maidens at work. 13. She seeketh wool and flax, -and layetly w er hand willingly to the spindle, while her ight hand merrily turneth the wheel. 14. She looketh well to the way of her fami- u , and eateth not the bread of idleness. N 16. By her industry, her cheeks are made uddy like the rose of Sharon, yea, her nerves re strengthened, so that when she heareth talk a f hysterics, she marveleth thereat. sc 17. Her house is the habitation of neatness, cl o that the heart of her husband is refreshed A Then he enters into her chamber. h 18. She maketh fine linen and selleth it, s nd delivereth much fine cloth to the mer hants. w 19. Her husband is known in the gates by r he fineness of his apparel, for she maketh him a lothes of silk and purple. C 20. 11er children rise up and call her blessed, a er husband also, and pi'aiseth her. TnH E Parisians are famous for their originality. ~hey conceive and accomplish things which no ta tser people in the world would think of, and hich no other people in the world would do. ti ~ecently an enthusiastic young nobleman, of he French capitol, fell ardently in love with a e eautiful and wealthy widow, and in an hour f pleasant conversation, at herSdoonz, promised o scnd her a New Year's present. It was then e he last day of the year. He hurried from her nansion and hastening to a cabinet maker, or- n lered him to construct with all haste, a beauti ul rosewood box, large enough to contain a nan. The next day the box was completed, n nd elegantly lined. Placing hiimself, arrayed g i his nost elegant ball costume within it, the over was screwed on, and with a perfumed bil. m et on the top, requesting her to opien it immne- t iately, lie was conveyed to the house of his t nsmorata. LUortunately, however, the air ti oles which had been made at the sides, pioved u~sufficint for the purposes of lire, and when o e fair lady proceeded to examine into the na-t ure of her present, he was unconscious and al- 't nost lifeloss. By the aid of propelr measures, a ue was restored to life and health; and it is ai that she to whose love he had so nearly al len a martyr; consented to reward his devo- g ion with her hand. WENu carefully laid under ground, lead pipes u re found to be far more durable than iron. e acad often lasts fifty and even a hundred years, it hile iron has been found to rust through in t ess, sometimes, than five years. One advan- n age which iron possesses over lead pipe is that o e salts produced by oxydastion are not so poi- ti onous as are those of lead, especially if the wa- a er has been for sonie time exposed to the at nophere. But in the lead pipe this may be bviated by tinning themi, a practice introduced e ome years since by Mr. Ewbanks. Tinned L cad pipe is to be preferred to iron for conveying t' rater or gases under ground, even when it ts 0 'equired to be of such size and thickness that h he first cost will be con .ideratbly higher. c INTER STINO ExPERIMENxT.--Take three bowls our into one cold water, into aniother hot wa er, and into a third water that is neither cold lor hot ; then place each hand respectively into he hot and cold, and now thrust both into the e uke-warm. The band that was first put into y he cold water will feel hot, and that which was ,d n the hot will feel cold, although both are ex-a osed to exactly the same temperature. This imple experiment proves that the sensation of r meat or cold is, to a great degree, relative, and eaches the lesson that to secure comfort, in the ~ xtreme of our climate, we must neither warm mrelves too much in winter, nor cool ourselves oo much in summer. Miss BREMER thus expresses a good wife' I luty : " If you will learn the seriousness of life, and ts beauty also, live for your husband ; be like he nightingale to his domestic life ; he to him ike the sunbleams between the trees; unite rourslf inwardly to him; lbe ynsided by him; ake him hap py, and then you will understand what is the beat happiness of life, and will ac-i mwreiny owuri even a worth ith tGrl and I IRE ET UNit UF Uu3aIUl 5UM5AR 'TUl WASH INGTON. The Evening Post of Tuesday-announ he Hon. Charles Sumner left home on the 22d or Washington, where he will remain until his reparations are completed for a -voyage to Europe. There is something to be remarked in is sudden determination of the Senator to re isit, at so unfavorable a period, the mcene of is recent slanderous attack upon his Senatorial - rother, which we cannot avoid noticing. Why as Senator Sumner so rapidly recovered his ealth ? How is it that the .afflictions- under rhich his friends pretend he has been laboring, re thus instantaneously abated ? The report f his condition, communicated through the rhining columns of the Black "Republican" ress of this city. to the public, seemed to indi. ate that his injuries were such as to utterly nfit him for the duties of his office for at least year to come. But alas for the verity of .pro ssional opinions. Friends and physicians were rrong. The obstacle to his recovery 'was be one the teach of mortal science. Human kill and ingenuity were poor panaceas for that rhich was illimitably removed from them. The country is suddenly startled by the news at Preston S. Brooks had expired at a mo. lent when his death was little expected,.with ut a few firm political friends around him to iminister the kind otlices of wife, brother and arent and to chasten by Weir attentions the sonies of his last moments. The memorials of friendship are scattered ?.i. - round the deceased, and his remains are ex sed in the halls of Government. An oration his social worth follows. Men of all parties single round his bier. There are some there ho lament his early death ; and some In whose -arts the deep dyed prejudice planted by a ogle act, conquers the emotion which hd. most formed itself into a tribute to his noble.'-d as of soul, . and to those high qualities - art and mind, for which he was eminent in s lifetime. He is buried, and his deeds are story. 0, wonderful remedy ! Hardly has the mar e been laid over his d!ffin when the victim of s insulted honor, as if feeling the remedial agnetisni of the truth, springs to new life. e is all bustle and hurry to resume his duties the Senate Chamber. A comtemplated visit Europe for the improvement of his health ust be deferred to some more convenient time. here are a thousand interests at =take which quire his immediate presence at the Capitol. he clock of liberty has run down in the in rim of his absence, and its constant tickings longer delight the ears of Senators. No mnd but his can recall it to vitality. Duty is imperious. There is no tampering ith the sacred impulse which bids him away ! pay ! an.: away he goes, but to the mental eyo men, whose faculties revolve around the ntral orb of a nature quickened with the fire a chivalrous adhesion to the noblest elemebts character; in whose bosoms the spark of iman dignity has increased to a broad flame hich permeates and illuminates every crevice. existence, there is sketched out over "his., hole track~frim' Boatoa?.tiioa banksf ..h " , etoa 6i la eris 'ii~r "' living fire (a name and a charater, whose odi u the act of his fallen foe can never rival.) hat name we will leave the reader to apply. ew York Daily News. BRIEF CoUaTsHIP.-Lord G. was strangely lvised by his physicians to marry, and lead a Aber, domestic, and steady life, as the only tance of improving his shattered c natitution. ccordingly he formed a resolution to offer his end to the first woman who caused preposses ons in her favor. Being one day in Kensington Gardens, he ent to shelter himself from a heavy showerof in, in a covered seat., to which two ladies had so repaired. One of them was Miss V. A. onversation ensued, during which his lordship ked: " Have you a carriage in waiting ?" " No," they replied. "Will you take a seat in mine, and allow me convey you home 71" The offer was ac-epted, and on their way to >wn Miss V. said: "2J think this is the easiest carriage I have rer been in." His lordship politely replied: "You may be mistress of it, madam, when rer you please." The lady blushed her thanks, and they were an and wife before the exp~iration of a month. BEAUTIFUL TnoLUGT.-IHere is one of the any thoughts to which Fanny Forrester has yen expression... "0O let me die in the country, where I shall at fall like the single leaf, unheeded; where o'e that love me need not mask the heart to::. u~ careless multitude, and strive as a duty to. ircudt me. " Bury me in the country, amid the prayers the good and the tears of the loving; not in rie dlark vault, away from the sweetened air, rid the cheerful sunshine, but in the open fields, ad among toe flowuersi that. I loved and cher hotd while I was living. NR.GROEs RsEHNN RaO MEXIcO.-The an An -io Texian says: H . y a wee passes but runaway negroes. re captured in Mexico, and returned to their asters ini Texas; and it is now seld' m the use that we hear of one running away to Mex o. The plain truth is, that those who are ,.'re now are in a wretched condition, and ma y of them would be glad to get back to their Id homes. They are not only ragged and des.. tute of the comforts of life, but most of them re really in a starving condition. LARGE RECEIrs oF CovFE.-The receipts of ffee at New Orleans on the 7th in -tant were nusually heavy ; no less than seven vessels en nred port on that day, bringing an aggregate 1' 33,356 bags. Among the arrivals was the ark William R. Newman, of Baltimore, with a urgo of over 5,000 bags. SCORNING THE IDEA-A vagabond-loolhing laow, but with stinw wit nevermkelena, was roughat before a mariktraie at Tourbridge, las. reek. on ilie charge of atealinig turnipa. 'After imking somie droII re~marks., he~ was a-ked by ihs lmgiistt," but dida't yau take Ihe turnips .und in your piacke~t T' Prisoner-"I, you wor h~p! certninily nomt. I went to sleep in the field monir the turnip< and the threae you found in uy pokets graew ini them while. [Isv, the heat of ny huody enuaingr themn to shoo~itilp fas9ter th--n or. iniary. I iettal tornips, you woirshiip 1 I'd acora be iden ! " Jimmy, are your folks all well?1" " Yes, ma'am, all but Sally Ann." " Why, what's the matter with her?" "0O, nothing' partic'lar-only she 'had the-. Loopin'-cough once, and she haint never got >ver it. The cough aint of anny aecont now, ut she has the kaop desper'te. A SERVANTs G!rLt-s Rnr.n.-Agenteman >bserving a servant girl, wlao was left-banded.~ >lacing thme knives and forks on the table in thE" nine awkward position;-reniarked to her tlet' Jhe was laying them left-h~anded. "0' indade!" said 4. "i fa,16tta