University of South Carolina Libraries
~ - - - - \ - - - i i- i -mJ ill lXil35: VOL.3. GREENVILLE, S. C,: THURSDAY MORNING, SEPIMm 4, M '.JT.V. NO. 17 ' Cjit ^ntrfjjern dMcrprist, A RBFLKX OF POPULAR EVENTS s>. tfisaora* EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. $1 t><\ payable la advanoe ; $ * if delayed. HLUBS of FrVE and upwards ?1, the money I ia erer7 instance to accompany tho order. ADVEr^^KNTO inserted conspienously at the rates of 78 seats p?r "a0'"'? *? !in??? ft* cents for each subsequent insertion. Contract* for yearly advertising made reasonable, Aoairrs. E. W. Cau, N. W. oor. of Walnut and Third-st, Philadelphia, is onr authorised Agent.' W. W. Walk sat, Jr., Columbia, A C. Parts Btkadlkt. Ban.. Flat Rack. K f! A. K. Panax, Fairview P. 0., Greenville Di?t William O. Bailkt, Pleasant Grove, GreenvilleCm. R. Q. Akdbrsow, Cedar Falls, Greenville. J $rltrtrt |fattnj. (From the N. Y. Journal of Commerce.] o t| lr n the JLibing. br i. u. luther. Mourn the lining, not the dead, ' Sigh not for the early fled, Would ye have those beings back Who have oroased life's stormy trsek! Would you have them on Time's shore, 'Mid its rocks and ocean roar f Mourn the living?drop a tear O'er the pallid ohild of fear, O'er the broken hearted crowd, That a thousand storms have bowed ; Living grief hath ears to hear, It will bless thee with a tear. Mourn the living: why should grief Wet the yellow autumn leaf! Never, 'neath the richest dews, Gould it gain its early hues ; But thy tears and care might give Strength to timid flowers that livo. Mourn the living, but the dead? l'lant gay flower* above their bed ; Sing, for songs are for the blest; Smile for peaceful is their rest; For their songs once cheered our dreams, And their smiles gave hope its beams. Mourn the living, not the dead, Sigh not for the eat ly fled, Radier weep for tliuse whom death Leaves to breathe life's poisoned breath, Weep for sad hearts round thee here, Heaven claims not a sigh or tear. Pendleton, S. C. a Iwltrttb Utortj. JI)e iftjsbaod's Setlref. Oat day, a good many rears ago, a young woman knocked nt the door of a lit tie cottage in the suburbs of the town of Newcastle upon-Tyne. The knock was immediately responded to by the opening of the door from within. An aged woman, neatly dressed, and who had evidently risen -j^from her wheel, was the sole inruate of the ^^^ittle cot. 'Bless your heart, girl,' said the dame as she entered with her visitor, and sat down to the wheel again, 'there must surely do something particular about you to day, for you did not used to knock.' 'I wan afraid some one might bo with you, mother,' said tho girl, who had taken a seat opposite the spinner. 'And though a neighbor had boon hero,' replied the dame, this surely wouldn't have! ] frightened you away. But the truth is, you have got something to say, Catharine,' con^ tinned the speaker, kindly : 'out with it, my dear, and depend upon the best counsel old Hannah can give. The young woman blushed and did not speak. 'Has William flnUon asked you to beoome his wife, Catherine:* said the dame, who eaaily and rightly anticipated the matter that was in the thoughts of her yonthful visitor. 'He has, mother,' was tho reply. The woman began to burr earnestly at her wheel. 'Wall, my dear,' said she, after a short cause, 'is it not that what *nn !? ? long expected?*y, and wished 1 he Iim your henrt; mid so, I suppose, it needs no witch to tell whet will be the end on V This might ail be very true, but there was something upon Catharine's mind which * struggled to be out and it osms 'Dear Hannaheaidahe, seeling herself eloeely by the dame, end taking bold of ber hand, *yon * hare been a kind friend?a parent?to me since my own poor mother died, end I have no one else to iooltffo for advice but yourI sal/. ] hare not given William aa answer, I ead wonid not ill Had spoken to yon?eeI pedeUy ae eomething?ee yon once said?' I 4What did I eay Catharine V interrupted I the old woman : 'nothing against tho man you love, surely. He is, from all that I have seen and heard, kind-hearted, industrious, and eterv way well behaved.' 'Yes, Hannah,' replied the woman ; 'but you once said, after I had brought him once or twice to sfee you, that you did not like those?those sort of low fits thRt sometimes fall upon him even in your company. I have often noticed them since, Hannah,' continued Catharine ?ith a sigh. 'l'lague on my thoughtless tongue for saying such things to vex you, my dear child ! He was a soldier, you know,a good many years ago?before he was twenty? and fought for his country. He may have seep sights then that made him grave to think upott, without blaming himself. But whatever it ruay be, 1 mean not, Catharine, ? -i?i-i '-i ?- - - turn u ruuuiu IHK? SUCH II pwillg WOTll *t 1ip.mi l If he lifts some little cures, you will easily soothe them and initke him liapP)'-' As the worthy dame spoke, her visitor's brow gradually cleared, and after somo further conversation, Catharine left the cottage, lightened at heart with the thought that her old friend approved of her following the courw io which her inclination led her. Catharine Smith was indeed well entitled to pay respect to the counsels of Hannah.? The latter had been married, and had spent the greater part of her life in the service of a wealthy family at Morpeth. When she was there, the widow mother of Catharine had died at Newcastle; and on learning of the circumstances, Ilannah, though a friend rneioly, and no relation, had sent for the orphan girl, then about ten years of age, and had taken care of her till she grew fit to maintain herself by service. On finding herself unable to continue a working life longer, Hannah had retired to Newcastle, her native place, where she lived in humble comfort on the earnings of her long career of servitude. Catherine came back with her to Newcastle, and immediately entered into service there. Hannah and Catharine had been two years in theae respective situations, when the dialogue which has been recorded took place. On the succeeding expiration of her torm of service, Catherine was married to the young man whose naine lias been stated as being William Uutton. He was a joiner by trade, and bore, as Hannah had said, an excellent character. The first visit paid by the new married pair was to the cottage of the old woman, who gaied on thorn w?tli a 1 ?.? ? ? j uni pnuv, unnKiiig 8iie nau never seen so handsome a couple. The few years spent by Hutton in the army had givcu hie naturally good figure an eroct manliness, which looked as well in one of his sex, as the light, graceful figure, and fair, ingenuous countenance of Catherine, wns calculated to adorn one of woman-kind. Something of this kind, nt least, was in the thoughts of Hannah, when Catherine and her husband visited the dame's dwelling. Many a future visit was paid by the same parties to Hannah, and on each successive occasion, the old woman looked narrowly, though aa unobtrusively aa possible into the state of the wife's feelings, with a motherly anxiety to know if she was happy. For, though Hannah, seeing Catherine s affections deeply engaged, had made light of her own early remarks upon the strange and most unpleaeing gloom occasionally, if not frequently observable in the look and manner of William llntton, the old woman was never able to rid her own mind altogether of misgivings upon the subject. For many months after Catherine's marriage, however, Hannah could discover nothing hut open unalloyed happiness in the air anil conversation of the youthful wife. But at length Ilannah'a anxious eye did perceive sometluug like a change, Catherine seemed aomctimes to full, when visiting the cottage, into fits of abstraction not nnlilce those which had been observed in her husband. The aged dame felt greatly distressed at the thought of her dear Catherine's being unhappy, but* for a long time held her peace upon the subject, trusting tiiat the cloud might be a temporary one, and would disappear. T* was not so, unfortunately. Though in their manner to each other when together, nothing bat the most cordial atleclion was observable, Catherine, when she came aione to aee Hannah, always seemed a prey to some uneasiness, which all of her efforts oould not conceal from her old friend. Even when she beearoe for the first time a mother, and with all the beautiful pride of a young mother's love, presented her bebe to Hannah, the latter could see eigne of grief imprinted on Catherine's brow. Hoping by her counsels to bring relief, Hannah at last took an opportuuity to tell the young wife what she had obeerved, and besought her confidence. At first, Catherine stammered forth a hurried assurance that she was perfectly happy, and in a few seoonds belied her word by bursting into tears, and owning that aha was very unhappy. 6Um I cannot, Hannah,' she exclaimed, *1 cannot tell the cause?not even to von i' 'Don't aay aof my poor Catherine,' replied Hannah ; it ia not curioaily that bida me to interfete.' 'Oh no, Hannah I1 replied the young wife; 'I know you apeak from love to me.' 'Well, then, continued the 4*<ne, open your heart to me. Age is a good adviser. ? Catherine \vw? silent. 'Is your husband t harsh ?' m-ked Hannah. > No, no,' cried the wife ; man could not be I kinder to woman than he is to me.' c 'Perhaps he indulges in drink in private ?' t 'Hannah, you mistake altogether,' was r Catherine's reply; my husband is as free from t all sueli faults as ever man was." > 'My dear child,' said the old woman, al- c most smiling as the idea entered her head, t 'you are not suspicious?not jealous?' i *1 hav? never had a moment's causo, Ilan- * nali,' answered Catherine. 'No, my griefs * are not of that nature. lie is ono of the a best and dearest of husbands.' \ Old Hannah was puzzled at these replies, I as much as she was distressed by the open t avowal of Catharine's havimr some cause of porrow ; but seeing that* lier young friend a could not make up her mind to a disclosure 1 at the time, the aged dame gave up her in- a quirics. and told Catharine to think serious- a ly of the propiiety of confiding all to her. d Hannah conceived that on mature con r sideration, Catheiine would come to the res- ?' olution of seeking counsel at the cottage.? a And she was not wrong. In a tow days af- h ter their late conversation the young wife v came to visit Hannah again, and after a lit- h tie embarrassed talk, entered on the subject n which was uppermost in the minds of both, h 'Hannah,' said Catherine, *1 fear you can s serve me nothiug ? I fear no living being * can serve me, O Hannah ! good as iny hns < band appears to be?good as he is?there is c some dreadful weight pressing upon his miu J, which destroys his pence?an J mine I too. Ala*! the gloomy fits which you as * well as I noticed in him arc not, I fear with- < out cause.' Catherine wept in silence for a ' minute, and then continued: 'All that I r know of this cause arise from his expressions t ?while he is sleeping l?y my side. Hannah ! he speaks in broken language of mur- I' der?of having committed in order 1 Iian- ' nab ! perhaps a woman deceived and killed by him.' As Catherine said this she shuddered. and buried her face in that of the 1 babo which she canied in her arms. Hannah was shocked to hear of this, but * her good sciimj led her at once to suggest, ' for the comfort of the poor wife, that it was perfectly possible for her husband to consid- 1 er himself a murderer in bis sleep, and speak ' tfc tVfl Ka?1# tl?a aliasl.ia-4 ? " ~~ *' * -. .. ?IIMUU* HIS nilgllll-ni, rcHlll}' III Hie ' whole a flair. J 4Ah, Hannah,' said Catherine, sadly, 1 'these saying* are not the result of ono < nightmare slumber. They occur often?too 1 often. Beaidea, when I first heard him mut- J ter in his sleep these horrible things, I men- ' tioned the mntter to hitn in the morning at our breakfast, and laughed at ?t; but he ^ grew much agitated ; and telling me to pay ' no attention to attch things, 'as he sometimes ' talked nonaenao, he knew, in his sleep,' he 1 rose and went away, leaving his meal nn- 1 finished, indeed, scarcely touched. I am ' sure lie does not know how often lie speaks 1 in hU sleep, for I have never mentioned the ' subject again?though my rest is destroyed | by it. And then his fits of sadness at ordinary moments t Hannah! Hannah! Han- * nah ! there in some mystery?some terrible ' mystery under ill Yet,' continued tbo 1 young wife, 'he is so good?so kind?so du- \ tiful to Ood and man! He has too much 1 tenderness and feeling to harm a fiy 1 linn- < nah, what am I to think or do, for I am wretched at the present.' It was long ere the old dame replied to this question. She intn.ed greatly on what had la-en told her, and in the end said to Catherine: 'Mv poor child. I cannot, liolinvn that William is guilty of what these circumstances lay seemingly nt his door, lint if the worst bo true, it is letter for you to know it than to be in this killing suspense forever. Go and gain his confidence, Catherine ; tell him all that lias come to your ear, and any you do so by advice. Hannah continued to use persuasions of the same kind for sometime longer, and at length sent Catherine home, firmly resolved to follow the counsel given to her. On the following day Catherine once more presented herself nt the abode of Hannah, and as soon as she had entered, exclaimed : 'Hear mothar, I have told him all' he will be bere soon to explain everything ! to na both 1 The old woman did not exactly contpre bend this. 'Has he not,' said she, 'given an an explanation then to you }' 'No, Hannah,' said Catherine; 'butoh,he is not guilty 1 When I had spoken to him as you desired me, he was silent for a long time, and he then took me in his arms, Hannah, and kissed *mi, saying; 'My darling Catherine, I ought to have confided in you long before. I have l?een unfortunate, not ffUiiW. Goto kind IIanM*h*a ???.i I soon follow you, and set your mind at case ( ' ?so far us it can bo dono. Had I known 1 how much you have boon suffering, I would have done this long before.' Theao were * his words, Hannah. Oh, may he be unfornato but not guilty 1' f Hannah and Catharine said but little to 1 each other until the hit*band of the latter 1 came to the oottage. William sat down * gravely by the side of his wife, and after 1 j kindly inquiring for the old woman, at once 1 I oommenoed to tell his story. 'The reason f of the unhappy exclamations in sleep,' aeid } ho, *w)tjfh neve weighed so much upon my > nind, dear Catherine, may l>e very soon old! They arose from a circumstance which has much embittered my own peace, nit which, I hope, is to be regarded as a sad 'alnmity rather than a crime. When I entered the army, which I did at the age of linetcen, the recruiting party to which I atached myself was sent to Scotland, where vo remained but for a few months, being trdered again to England in order to be rnnsjrorted to the continent: One unhappy Doming, as we were passing out of town chore we had rested on our march south ward, my companions and I chanced to see i girl, apparently about fifteen years of age, washing clothes in a tub. Being tho most ight hearted among the light hearted, I ook up a large stone with the intention of plashing the water against the girl. She looped hastily, and shocking to tell, when , threw the stone it struck her on the head, ind she fell to the ground, with I fear, her kull fractured. Stupefied at what I had lone, I stood gazing on the stream of blood usliing from my poor victim's head, when r?v companions observing that no one had een us, for it was early in tho morninc. luriicd me of}*. We were uot pursue], and re were in a few we? ks on the continent; nit the image of that bleeding girl followed ne everywhere ; and since I came home, I inve never dared to inquire the result, lest us pic ion should be excited, and 1 should uti'er for murder 1 For I fear, from the Ireadfiil nature of the blow, that the death f that poor creature lies at my door.' While Hutton was relating this story, he ind turned hie eyes to the witulow, but vhal whs hia astonishment, as he was con luding. to hear old llaunah cry aloud: Thank God I' while his wife broke out into i hysterical passion of tears and smiles, and hrew horself into his arms. *My dear husband,* cried she as soon as ler voice found utterance, that town was dorpelh }' It was,' said he. Dear William,' the wife then cried, 4I am hat girl.' You, Catheiine,' cried the amnzed and mraptured husband, as he pressed her to lis breast. Yes,' said old Hannah, from whose eyes ears of joy were fast dropping; Mlie girl whom yon unfortunately struck was she who is now the wife of your bosom; but four fears had magnified the blow. Catlie ine was found by myself soon after the ac;idont, and though she lost a little blood, sud was stunned for a time, she soon got ound again?praised be lleavcn for bringng about tbi? bleeaed explanation.' 'Amen,' cried Catherine and her husband. ?eace and happiness, as much as usually alls to the happiness of mortals, were the ot of Catherine and her husband from this ime forward, tlieir great source of inquiet..i. k.:?_ .1 . .i? mm _ auu uviiijj niu!? i;iKeii away. i lie wire even oved lite husband more, from the discovery hat the circumstance* which had caused ler distress wero but a proof of his cxtreir.c enderness of heart and conscience; and William was attached the more strongly to Catherine, after fiiiuiug her to be the pui&on >vhom he had unwittingly injured. A new ie, as it were, had been formed between hem. Strange ns this history may appear, t is true. JUisttllnntotis Jltabiiig. Op fleqding. Why should ho many persons bo so very ireful with regard to the food with which heir bodies are nourished, and pay so little mention to that for the mind ? The seeds if disease can be as easily sown in the mind is in the body, and the disease is far more litticultof cure. Every paper and book that s read, exerts a useful or deleterious in hience, not only daring life but after it. the words and actions that are influenced jy books and papers go lorth to exiri an ntlucnce, for gciod or evil upon others, while ,he food taken into the body is limited in its tfttfllAn/t/l on/1 ll?af Kit# ft-v- ? sl"?? 'I'"?4' ? MHWMW) ?uu timv UHfc tVI t% Pll'JIi UUItlUUII. It is, therefore, of immense importance that ivery person should be exceedingly careful n the selection of his reading, fur in the nass of general reading how little there is >f truth, how much of error and untruth. In view of the great amount of unreliable ending in vogue, the question "what is ruth," mar not only be often asked with jropriety, but also "where is truth." A continual indulgence of the appotito in anheallhy and substantial food will soon eneeble the body, and make it enervated and rtfeminate; and it is just the same with rearing, which is food for the mind. What then ran be expected of those persons whose menal food almoat entirely consists of the most rashy literature?its chaff, straw, and stub* >ie f Effeminacy and weakness of intellect. IVe regret that such a charge can tm preferred against the vast majority of our own >eople, and those of every other enlightened ind civilised nation. The reoords of literature prove that for one reader of real solid tod useful papers and books, there are a mndred who feast on the wildest and most rothy works of fiction. Such reading must h> injurious to the mind, because it furnishes t with no peniuoe aliment The most useful woiks in the libraries of (lie Mechanics' Institutes in England have a very limited number of readers, while those of a light and amusing character have n host. We hope it is not ro with the members of our Mechanics' Institutes; and in some instances brought tootir knowledge we are happy to say, it is not. Still, it is the veiy few among the great mass of our mechanics, artisans, and farmers, especially our young men, who read useful works; the great majority are intense readers of love sick stories and bombastic fictions. A man may cram his mind with rending and yet he may be very ignorant and illinformed. What is knowledge but truth ? The mnn, therefore, who desires to be wellinformed (and who does not ?) should make truth the object and aim of his reading. Every young mnn, especially, should endeavor to cultivate habits of judicious reading. He must pursue truth with assiduity if ho vv/mlfl cfnrn Itiu ntitul wiflt l-ri/nulo.lnm Ka ..... " ? .F?.wg. , ?v must endeavor to derive solid pleasure from the study of true and useful works if ho would rise to eminence in literature, in pol ilics, in law, in engineering, in chemistry, in any of the sciences or pursuits of life, to be distinguished in which, implies a cultivated mind. The character of a man is as much indicated by the books and papers which he reada as by the company with which he associates. We have but to know what books and papers a young mechanic, engineer or artisan reads, to form a very sound opinion of his qualifications and his abilities. If he takes no paper or periodical containing useful information relating to science, art, and improvements, he cannot be intelligent, he cannot be expected to attain to distinction in bis profession, for he denies his mind thnt food which is necessary for its proper growth and sustenance.? Scuntific American. I .he Jlrqffic in Circassian 3D o in c n. , There has lately been an unu*u ally large number of Circassians going about the streets , of Constantinople. Many of them, no I doubt belonged to the deputation which , came to petition the Torte that their coun: fy "light be taken under the suzerainty ni' lit a Qnltnn A Arnlvl a nr\cliAn \?i uiu kjuuiui. ii vviioiugi nifiu |/vi nv/iij . however, of tho Circassians now in the capital have quite another mission than a polit' ical ono to fulfil. They are here as slave dealers, charged with the disposal of the numerous parcels of Carcaesian girls that have been for some time pouring into this market. Perceiving that when the Russians shall have r<-occupied the coast of Caucasus this traffic in whits slaves will be over, the Ciicassain dealers have redoubled their efforts ever since the commencement of the peace conference* to introduce into Turkey the greatest possible number of women , while the opportunity of doing so lasted. They have been so successful, notwithstand, ing the prohibition of the trade by the Porte, and the presence of so many of her Majesty's ships in the Black Sea, that never, perhaps, at any former period, tvna white human flesh so cheap as it is at this moment. There is an absoluto glut in the market, and dealers are obliged to throw away their goods, owing to the extent of tho supply, which in many instances has been brought by steain tinder the British flag. In former times, a "good middling" Circassian girl was thought very cheap at ?100. but at the present moment tho snmo description of goods may be had for ?5 ! in fact, the creatures are eating their heads oft', and must be disposed of at any sacrifice, however alarming. Independently of all political, humane, and Christian objections to the abominable state of things, there are several practical ones which have even forced themselves on the attention of the Turks. With low prices a low class of purchasers come into the market. Formerly, a Uircassmn girl was pretty sure of being bought into a good family, where not only good treatment, but often rank and fortune, awaited her; but at the present low raten she may be taken by any huxtcr, who never thought of keeping a slave before. Another evil is, that the temptation to possess a Circassian giilat such low prices is so great in the minds of the Turks, that many who cannot afford to keep several slaves have been sending their blacks to market, in order to make room for a newly purchased whito girl. The consequence is that numbers of black women, after being as many as eight or ten years in the same hands, have lately been consigned to the broker for disposal. Not a few of those wretched creatures arc in a state quite unfit for being sold. I have it on the Authority of a respectable slave broker, that at the present moment there have been thrown on inaiket unusually la:ge numl?ersof negrosses in the family way, some of them slaves of pachas and men of rank. He finds them so unsaleable that he has been obliged to docline receiving sny more. A single obterva lion will explain lha reason of this, which might appear strange when compared with the value that is attached even to an uuborn black baby in some slave countries. ln'Ci n stantin ople it is evident that there is a very Jar^e number of negressea living r.nd having habitual intercourse wisli their Turkish (batters?yet it it a rare tiling to see a mulattoi What becomes of the progeny of such inter1 course f t ho hesitation in saying that it is got rid of by iufanticide, and that there is hardly a family in Stamboul where infanticide is not practiced in such cases as a there matter of course* nnd without the least remorse or dread.? Cof. London Afornind Post. Ibe itez*. No invention of mdn has bech rriorei us<J fill and of greater behefit to the human family than the printing pre**. By this machine mind in made io operate upon mind, atfd render all the elements, aye. immense tract and apace as far as the eye can discern by by the aid of the telescope, tributary in man's comfort, happrirtess and knowledge. Aided by the press, every new idea useful to mankind soon crosses the sen dud ocean. and fiunlly every part of the habitable globe. It has prostrated errof wheiever It has had free scope. It is the friend of genuine liberty, of justice, of human happiness, and human glory. Happy for mankind would H be if the press Was lo remain entirely ifflshackled. It should never descend to licentiousness, to the servility ef panderers for the men in power, nor become the tool of aspiring demagogues, either in Church or Btnt*/ The public press stands Pearly in the samd relative situation with the public minds, m the tutor his pupil, nnd, in a great measure, equally responsible for tho principles it shall inculcate. 1'arty prejudices, or the prostitti-' tion of talent for mercenary purpose*, is therefore as base as the conduct of a tutor would bo whose vetlalty shonld induce him to sacrifice his trust nt tho shrine of Mammon. Those who conduct the pTess sliotlld fcicvate their ideas into" pit re regions of thought and fly away there. To them, in # ery' special manner, are committed the future destinies of mankind. They are the light of tho world, shining not for themselves, out for the whole human family. By the aid of this light nil can see their respective paths through life. As these lights increase in number aud brightness, men will see clearer. further and better all around them, all over the world, until time shall* end. Until them, may the press be free, pure and U6cfuh Ain't done Nothing,?'What's the matter John!' "I ain't dona nothing, father." ''Well, what are you crying for, you lab* ber ?" 'I was afraid you would whip roe.' "What 1 whip you when you litlvn't done nothing.' 'Yea, sir.' "Go into the house you, booby,' John felt quite relieved, and wehtinto' the house, and his father went to the farm.Very soon his father came back in a rag?# and laying a cowhide over the urchin's back said* 'Did I not tell you when I went away, to hoe the corn ?' "Yes, sir?but you told me just now you wouldn't whip me if I hadn't done nothing. Fortunately John's wit didn't save him the whipping. Theological Divpbkences.?Dr. Stuart was rather fond of controversy. A favorite topic with him was the true nature of saving faith, on which subject he regarded Dr. Chalmers as in error. They met in the streets of Edinburg, and entered into a warm controvresy; street after street, and square after square were passed, and at length the disputants parted ; Dr. Chalmers taking Dr. Stuarl by the hand and saying: "If you wish to 8eo my views stated clearly and distinctly, read a tract calied Hinderancte to Believers of the Gospel." "Why," said Dr. Stuart, "that is the very tract 1 published myself." Dr. Chalmers used often to <1<*. cribe this scene as a proof that many may think they differ when they really agree. Tiirhb is an old gray cat in Newark, N. Jersey, who has recently had an addition to her family of six kittens all of which are I joined together, near the hind-legs. In lifting one up you raise the whole, like a bunch of bananas. This interesting group seems to live very harmonious together, with the exception that " neither one can tell which is its own tail !** These latter appendages are so twisted and intertwined that even the grave and staid mother cat herself cannot unravel the mystery, and hence the kittens ! quarrel occasionally. ?? Horns for Marrying in England.?The limitation of the time of the dny for marrying in England is fixed by statute. The period between eight ill tho morning and noon is assigned as the legal time for all mariiagea. The custom here and the lasr in England are widely different in this particU* I mr. PltOKITAni.K SlNOINO.? It U noW tlimi Jcnir, Liud has netted eighty thousand pounds during her farewell London and pro* vincinl season. ami that the public, in consequence of the system of buying up ticket by the music elleca, must have paid at lea? ? 200,000 for the purpose of hearing bei,