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They will be published and charged for till ordered mit. . .'. 11: j . ? jiL j?1_?.1 ? ftltttrii ^oitrij. sacL?ul:?"y. ,.= ?- ?.-rr.-:-?. Gray Hairs. BY MRS. L. R. SIOOUR5KT. .Gray hairs! I marvel why they strike Such terror and dismay I No mark of wickedness or chaise, Or foul disgrace, are the/. As silent as in infant drcnros /. , Steal o'er tho cradle-down, They wears their sparkling silver threads Into the black or brown. Gray hairs! ibo waning beauty shrieks Before her mirror's face, And forth the 'umblest invader flies _, Uprooted from its place.- ^ Oh, lady, stay .that lllly hand? , If one such geaet should fall, They aay a doaan more will come To attend tho funeral. Gray hairs 1 I saw tha Quocn of France, Arrayod in rogal state, Eeeeire the elite of the land, The titled and the great; And whilo her dignity and grace Were praised by every tongue, . The.long, white ringlets, o'er her brew In fearless clusters hung. . Gray hairs 1 when sprinkled here and there, Id board mad whiskers too, Inspire respect and confldonco, r Mure than tha youthftil hue. Of knowledge, of manhood they toll, * Perchance of serious thought, And loos at the expansive school I Of sage experience taught. < Oray lialn! 1 think them beautiful ^ Around the ancient fhoe; < Like pun unsullied snows that lend The windry tnndsoapee grace i When found in wisdom's way they crown With wealth's sghansUess store? A prelude to that home of joy Where change is known noenore. Sin Stotrrrutittfl ^tarq. THE TQIUMB "KLCT Not many month* ago, in one of my summer rambles, I found myself, on a beautiful Sabbath morning, the guest of a woitby and intelligent family, in a quiet cottntty village. The early breakfast was over; parents and children had joined in reading a chapter in the Bible; Mr. Sedgwick, the head pt the family, had then offered op a fervent prayer, at the conclusion of which we all arose from our knees. when our earn wero gfeetod by tho clear deep peels of the ringing church bell. "So latel" exclaimed Mr. Sedgwick, looking at the clock. 44 Ouf time piece roust be wrong." 44 That is not the first bell for church," replied her husband, solemnly. 44 There has been a death in the Tillage. The be!! is going to toll for Martin Lord." 44 Such, then, is his unhappy end I" roused his wife. 44 Well, it will be wrong to mourn, his death. If death ? mm o niArnifnl nmridanA* it ia an in tliis CMe." " In it a>ptraon who bas been long sickf" 1 asked. Instead of answering my question directly, Mr. Sedgwick Mid : ' " There Is a vary melancholy history t s connected with that young man. It is nne ronrfltlma ijsM the n?. casioned by hie strange tragedy died away; but the tolling of the bell this _ morning must bring It back forcibly to every heart, Perhaps you would I* sen much interested to bear the story fn i 1 expressed my desire to listen to the narrative; upon which he gave me the detail* of the following atorr, which I relate with only a alight variation from the original: " Martin Lord waa once the flower and hope of one of the moat reapectable % families in the village HU amiable disposition and wparior intellect procut* ed for him universal love and eateem. " Although a alight figaro and pale faeterna, which indicated a conatitution by no meanb robtot, Martin waa naarfcable for Ma uncommon beauty, and* indeed, a floe, noble forehead shaded by locka of soft brown hair, hfa large, ecpreaeive blue eyea, straight noae, with the Grycian noatrila, and voloptueoa mouth, entitled him fn aome meeaera to thai conaideration. * Martin waa a great favorite with - the ladiaa, old and young; but he nerer showed any marked partiality to any i , .. ,i \d ^ one, until he became intimate with Isa belle Ashton, the daughter of onr laU clergyman, who died of grief about i year ago. MNo two beings were more differ eot. Isabella was young and the raoel thoughtless girl in the village. She could bate little sympathy with a per son of such deep feeling and intellect at Martin; and beautiful as she was, il seemed strange that he should have given his love to her.1 There' is nc doubt but she was attached to him, per haps she loved him; but in this in stanoe, as in all others, her .affeetiont were secondary to her love of sarcasm and mischief. M Martin and Isabella had been point ed out as lovers by the village gossips for several months;'he was nineteen, and she of the same age, when the trag edv occurred, which the tolling of the boil has recalled to my memory. " It was an autumn evening, nearly five years since, that Isabella took advantage of the absence of her father, to have a social gathering of young people at their house. Martin, of course, was present, with the fairest youths and maidens, and being under no restraint from tho gravity of the clergyman, who was not expected home till late, the company enjoyed themselves freoly in jeeU, songs, and social games. "The hour at which such parties usually broke up, had already passed, and there was no relaxation in the gaiety of the young people, when some one foolishly mentioned the subject ol ghosts, something of that-description having been Yeportod to have bocn seen in the church-yard. . "'It is a sjlly report,* said Martin. ' Nobody can believe that a ghost has raaliv been seen there, and 1 doubt if a person here belivea at all in the existence of a ghost.* "' You do, yourself?you know you do, Martin, although you are ashamed to own it,* cried Isabella. But Martin only laughed. ' Come cow,* continued the thoughtless girl, ' I can prove that von have some idea that such thinga may exist. Go to the church-yard alone in the dark, and then declare, if you can, that you have not fell fear ?' "'And what would that prove!' **' Why, you would be frightened, though you would see nothing. Your feara would put your belief to a lest.? How could you be afraid if vou did not feel that'there waa something to be afraid oft* 1 uo Hot tlnnk your logic is very ?00*],' replied Martin, laughing. 4 Men are often troubled with fear, when their reason telle them that there is no cause to fear. But ( denv, in the first place, that a journoy to the church-yard, even at midnight, would frighten me in the least P u 4 IIow bravely you can talk !' said Isabella, indulging in her customary tone of sarcasm. 4 But nobody here believes it?I don't, at any rate. Why, you hadn't courage enough, the othei day, to help kill a rabbit; your uiothei told me so!" MI never like to cause or impresi Giin, if it can be avoided,' answered artin, blushing. 44 4 II a 1 ha ! what a poor excuse You are brave enough, to be sure, bul tender-hearted ! Come, now, you dar< not go to the cburch-vard this mghi alone. You are not lmlt so courageoui as you would have us believe. Wheth or you think there are ghosts or not you are afraid of them.' Martin was extremely sensitive ; bu the sarcasm of nobody but Isabelh could hare stung bim to the quick Scofning tho imputations of cowardice he.was ready to do almost any deeper ate ast to prove his courage. 4 But, said he, 4 although I have no more fea of churcb-vards and ghosts, than I hav< of orchards am) apple trees, I am no going to walk half a mile merely to t? laughed at." 44 * Ha 1 ha I but yon shall not oscap merely so l* laughed Isabella. * Here before these, our friends, I promise tha this ring shall bo yours,' she continued displaying one given bv an older lovei which Martin had desired her to par with, 4 provided you go to tho church yard alone, in the dark, and declare, oi your honor, when yon return, that vol W>f?_nr.t jtj lli? tops* 444 Agreed,' said Martin, buttoninj his coat, for the night was chilly. 44 4 And, as an evidence that you g the enlire distanco, you can bring bacl with yon, the iron bur, which you wi find doee by the gate,' said Isabella. " Thus driven by Unta to the coin mission of follv, Martin took leave < the company, Alii of courage and spiri and set out on his errand. " It was near a quarter of a mile t the church yard, which wju approach? by lonely, dreary path, seldom travel ed, except by mourners. u It is impossible to relate precis* ly what happened to Martin oil lha gloomy rood. I judge front the oil cumstnocee which afterwards came t light, and conjecture his adventure mui have been, as I am about to relate it. 14 Slight as be was in frame, and ter der in hie feeling, he ?u not deelilut of courage. I do not think be wa frightened by the aighing of thw win and the rustling of the dry autum leaveg, as many stronger man might has boon. He approached steadily to tii ehurch y ard,stoppod a moment, perbaf . to gaxe sadly, but not fearfully, at the 5 white tombstone glimmering faiully in t the dark and desolate ground, for the : stare shone brilliantly in the clear cold - sky ; then shouldering the iron bar of t which Isabella had spoken, he sat out to ) return. 1 He had proceeded about half way, i when in the gloomiest part of the road, t ho saw a white figure emergo from a j clump of willows and come up towards ) him. It looked like a walking corpse, in a winding sheet, which trailed on the ground. All Martin's strength of i nerves was gone in an instant. Cour i age gave piaoe to desperation, ins Itair j standing erect and his blood running chilled with horror, still he stood his giound. The spectre drew nearer, seeming to grow whiter and larger as it approached. We cannot tell what, frenzy seized upon the brain of tho unfortunate youth at that moment. The guests at the clergyman's heard terrific screams. Dreading some tragic termination to the farce, they rushed to tho spot, one of tho number carrying a lantern. They found Martin kneeling on the prostrate figure, his fingeis clutching convulsively its throat, while he uttered frantic shrieks for help. His j wild features exhibted tho extremity of toi ror. " Only two of the most courageous ' young men dared approach him. One of thein forced Martin to release his hold on tho throat of the figure, whilst the other tore away the folds of the ' sheet. At that moment tho bearer of the lamp came up. Its light fell on the blood-stained, distorted features of Isabella! Martiu uttered one more unearthly shriek and fell lifeless ujron the corpse, lie never spoke again, bat lived?an idiot I M A frightful contusion on Isabella's temple bore evidence that in his fienzy be had struck the supposed spectre with the-iron bar. The blow was probably the cause of her death, although such a grasp with his hands must have deprived her of breath. lie nfcver knew afterwards what he had done, for never a gleam of reason illuminated the dark i new of his soul; and now the tolling bell has told us that lleavon in its mercy has finally freed the spirit from its , shackles of clay, and given it life and light in a better world." : Jfiifittllnnrona jhrn&ing. Drifting. One calm summer's evening I sat upon the river's bank, gazing listlessly i down the stream,* watching the current , as it eddied and whirled along over its i rocky bed and listening to the low muri muring of the waters. I was thinking of the world?of human life, its responI sibilitica, its cares?of the various in fluences at work, and their manifold rei suits. Just then a little boat, which , had been moored near tho shore, left its ? fneinninnre anil lu^nron fn rlrift Ant inlA r the stream. Slowly and almost imperceptibly at first, it floats along, Lome ) onward by a gentle evening breeze, its I speed gradually increasing as it nears the current into which it is soon drawn ; ! and now, with increased velocity, it is t impelled forward and out of sight by 3 the resistless waters, t Ilow strikingly, thought I, does this i resemble some phases of human life.? - A boy, the pride and joy of his fond , and doling parents, endowed with a good intellect aud an amiable disposi t tion, brought up thus far within " the i charmed circle" of parental influence, is ; to-be educated. lie is sent to college, i, For a while everything goes on well.? w He is attentive to his studies, and ex >' emplary in his deportment. The prer cepta instilled by his parents are still e fresh in his memory, and he is enabled t to resist the allurement incident to col0 lege life. By-and by a change comes, scarcely to be observed at first, but soon n mill a ADnnrcnL' 11a it nAt ha r^milnr in ' 7 ? i, las attendance at las recitations?they I are not quite so well prepared?lie dress, es a little finer?may be seen usually , with the "fast boys"?carries a cane? t frequently has a cigar in his mouth? . lakes a drink occasionally?swears a litn tie, just a little, once in a while?neg j lects church and sabbath school, and so on. That l*>y fi drifting, llis little g barque, freighted with the Hopes and anxieties of his foiid parents, and the o interests of his own immortal soul, both k temporal and eternal, is drifting out upon II tho broad river of immortality. Soon, unless its course is arrested, it will be i- drawn into the current aud borne on to \f ili'Klruclinn?In (inli Lannol) llm <lnrL I, wavcs, to rise no more, or wrecked upon the rock of crime and disgrace- (>od o help that unsuspecting boy ! <?o-J "pity d hit loving parents, tlie stay and prop of I- whose declining years he was to have been I y A young man starts on in life, lie it is handsome, talented, and lias means r- enough to begin with. He engages in o business?is industrious, attentive and it polite. Fpr a while he gets on finely, his business increases, and bis heart beats high with hopes of success. Soon, how* e ever, his attention to business begins to is slacken; instead of always being si his d office, you now frequently see him down n town {be dresses more elegantly, smokes v a finer segar, and drinks finer wines and ? mom of them?goes more into fashion* is ebie society?drivss fast horses?hell * quents tbo theatre mid opera?neglects I cliurch, the pubJic lectures, the lyecum, j and other means of mental and moral 11 improvement?spends his evenings at j drinking saloons and club-rooms?may j , occasionally he aeon Hushed with liquor , , at the faro table in a " gambling hell ;M , j or, what is iuSnilely worse, paying hom- j , age to a Cyprian goddess in some u gild- , , ed temple of infamy." Tliat young man , is drifting, llis little boat, which was , moored so safely to the niossy banks, | where the flowers of linppincsa, Content- | ment and success bloomed, and which j is laden with a priceless cargo?a car* , go of eternal hopes and interests?has | left its fastenings, and is drifting out , upon tho turbid stream of fashionable j dissipation. Slowly ar.d gradually it glides from the shore, cariied along a by 1 the soft breeze of popular applause; by I i degrees it near* the current?enters it ' , ?and with irresistible force is, hurried I | to destruction, is inevitably stranded up 1 i on the inhospitable brnkers of everlast- ' , ing dishonor. i There is a young girl, upon whom I i centre tlie fondest affections of her pa j | rents?the light of whose eve, and ' i the joy of whose heart die is.? f j Nature has liestowcd her blessings on I j her with a lavish.hand. She is heattti 1 < ful, kindhearted, has a mind suscepti ble of a high degree of cultivation, and , is surrounded by all that wealth and i luxury cnn supply. She nitwit be educated iu accordance with the station in life which she is ex|>ccted to occupy.? She is sent to g " fashionable boarding school." lining a little self-willed, and freed from the restraints of home, she ; docs pretty much as her fancy dictates j ?pays but little attention toiler studies, , except those branches termed "ornit- I mental?" begins to l>e vain of her ( beauty, which has been indiscreetly i praised in bearing?may be seen fro- < quently pot ing over the pages of a " yel low covered" French novel, which, i somehow, she managed to smuggle in- , to her room?carries on a clandestine | correspondence with one or two beaux i ?at the expiration of the usual time I returns iioine 10 ner parents, Willi n , smattering of drawing, French and . music?accomplished. She makes her debut into fashionable society?attends i all the balls and pailies?listens to Die poison breath of flattery?accepts the attention of men who, though they move in fashionable circles, are of question- 1 able morals?permits such an one to 1 lead her in the giddy dance, andyields- j her form to his lascivious embraces as | she whirls with him in the passion ex- < citing waltz?feels no thrill of startled ; purity and virtue as his inoustached lip 1 touches her hand as he assists her into her carriage, hut rather a thrill of grati- ^ fiod vanity and dangerous excitement? Ar eschews church and church going pcr-'bi sons (except when she wishes to exhib- 0 it herself in a new and fascinating JJ' toilet.) That young lady is drifting.:?^ ller little barque, with silken sails, has 1 left the haven of purity, whore it was so | securely anchored, and is drifting, drift-"]* | in^ out into the stream of fashionable j1 lo.iy ana excitement. siowiy ana mimost unobservedly tlie distance widens I between it and (he shore; driven on by i the breezes of vanity and admiration, ' it wiil soon be in the current; and w hen ' once there, unless through the rid of some powerful interposition, will be urged onward, by the relentless tide until it is landed, a wreck, upon the daik shores of eternal ruin and disgrace. Header! whether youth, young man or young lady, let me a-k vou, where are you I Are vou drifting upon the I tide of human life, at the mercy of wind and wave, without pilot, or ruddor, or | compass ! There in a haven where yon can moor iu safvtyj; an anchor " sure | and steadfast," which, if you cast out, neither wave nor wind nor tido shall 1 set you dtifling again ! W. j The Wife.?It is astonishing to sec j how well a man may live on a small in j come, who has a handy and industrious wife. Some incn live and make a far , better appearance on six or eight dollars a week, than others do on fifteen or I eighteen dollars. The man d<xja his 1 i part well, hut his wife is gottd for nothing. She will even upbraid her hitsI band for not living in as good style as | her neighbor, while the fault is entirely ' Iter own. His neighbor lots a neat, capable ami industrious wif?, ami dial makes the difference. His wife, on the other hand, is a whiilpool, into which I a great nrany silver ctijw might be thrown, nnd the appearance of the watei i would not l>e changed. No Nicholas, the l>iver, is there to restore the wasted treasure. It is only an insult for such a woman to talk to her husband about her love and devotion. [Soul/urn Homestead. j A Motiiku Teaching IIkk Ciiii.o to ; Pit a v.? It is at once an object the most sublime and lender the imagination can well conceive of. Klevaled above earth ij things,'she seems like one of those guardian angels, the companion of our : earthly pilgrimage, through whose min- j istralion we are inclined to good, to turn from evil. Many a true heart that would have coine back like a dove to the ark, after its Hrat trunsgrossion, haa been frightened beyond recall by the savage charity of an uuforgiviug spirit. Courtesy. The innumerable line and dclicAtc thread which Uue courtesy weave?, as eoof and warp, constitute the strength of the social fabric. / Courtesy is love embodied, and rendered active and visible ; and love attracts into union and oneness, and when ooutiguoua water drop* rush into mutual bosoms and forin river and lake. Conventional observances may drive men into combinations, as externni hoops forco the staves to become the barrel and the cask. Hut the drawings of love will attract, even through impediment and barrier, like the magnetic influence that ope rates through iho vessel upon the mimic floating swan. Courtesy is essentially different from politeness, etiquette, manners. These may become mere marks of supreme tcltishiicfs and batted ; and they may he only exhibitions for praise and profit. Courtesy has, indeed, no special form t?r manner, and yet never wars with mitable and decorous conventionalisms. Courtesy is inherent, and ever thesatno; hut forms of politeness arc shaped by ? evident; hence the etiquette now reigning may he dethroned in lime, and the politeness of lo <.lny become rudeness or Ooutt^y cannot l>e taught or learn i?d, it cannot bo jnit on or laid aside. Courtesy is f<-h?tnerc politeness seen. The former wins love, the latter respect. The one bows gracefully and profoundly ; the other would lay down a life. To become polity, read Chesterfield ; to become courteous, read the llible.? Abraham, the father of lli6 faithful, and Paul, the Apostle of the Gentiles, bowpd indeed with courtly grace, respfcet"iilly ; but it was their courtesy, tnanicsted in look, word, tone, manner, that revealed their heart love, and melted sther hearts. The writer was passing once along a narrow pavement. A young man, in foarsc apparel, at our approach, stepped aside, with great alacrity, and into ihc mud edging the path, lie did not bow, lie waved no hand, ho moved w ithout grace, and yet the whole was evident couttesy. After passing, the thought arose, should we not acknowledge and thank for the behaviour so unusual in a voting man in this brazen age. We went back. Otlering our hand, we said: * Young nus iATs'd v.Jiands with me H1 "Certaiiil * flnost Engtj|,y d0 yOU wiab it P L"' n,8? ,1,u r'"^TA a Lind-henrted 'l,* 4rd Joseph Johns# * kiua-neariea lellotuc^uimoii Watch, and tlDSD \ J'OU gave ill The above Wntehes aro 'o WUr J y/ould . cr Cas?*. Hunting, and Open Yhl . m?nt*' *uhc will rtuirunt to keep the best f/ . ' "?u-w-mrT-m? -*- -a?* -inn I May V\7 FIT Lord J?a* a groat variety of JKWELlf f styles. Ho (htiat it needless toineilu P10 tides of Jewelry^ but says ho has gotptvon, if ing you uoed. ^ * will keep soon, ^ . flnd ilvor and Plated Ware,, t?t. jl? to the market. 'y 0JJr REPAlRl;NG?i |bnienl kinds of RKVAIRINO done in WatcliiSicans, t> tin<l Jewelry in n workmanlike maniik or Qf )t the shortest notice. > llie Shop may be found at the (W iusc. 42-tf Pelf V N TAL O PE RATIO Sad Va Fall. About k ^/nii was SCIlt to 1*1 N ANDERS Ce a car S> of B?re*]>eetfnlly inform tlio e^t'ortiklld, itine. cenviile that ho has to. j t t, , 8, and is prepared to air bouse a>. ln ?n the hmncbef. if ears, and iMissesKedesidinj; in tlio countryr'nfidoncc of lis Cinphtf comin* so aa to a^Ion to Now Orleans lid v, trusted with sufficient moi, PRICE/ the cargo of sugar, but wi^ $ |U duo on a previous c*rVj[ j ^ g q house had This your i iry competent in his lniftine.~~t . . ]{ ^!nn ordinary intelligence, and (F, i^Uractivo np ]rcarnnce withal, one sin, ami that, alas! was a\generic. He had (T1T11ritl'lhl tllO lialltaVO iMamklinn ".! fell, it would seei V to the II e XT-- anr <fI J gamblers of ?acTUKKI1f? He lost every dollar of his wjon llAlr's money, and a few days since of his being fatally slabbed,?ik-'l,,i-uWcc-liouse affray, ' ?WIumi tvo gallant follows have run out n friend. 'flu-r?-'s nottiiup; ?except to run bini through." A brother in-law (long a resident ol New Oilcans) of tiie wretched young man, passed through the city on Saturday with liiscoflincd remains. A weeping sister had placed white flowers up on the ignoble yet mourned dead ere ii started for the place which had knowr it in life, in a onco happy cottage now how desolate ! in a grandly pic turctrfpio spot, within sight of tliesilvei foaming surf which beats alonor lh< ocean coast, a widowed and heart-brok' en mother awaits the coming of hci dead sou. And we pity her, and mourn the fato of a young man, who in eariiei days was our companion and friend. [Cleaveland 1'lain Dealer. A Mrs. John IUid is advertising it the 1'liilndelphia North American, hi " infant's retreat," established for tin accommodation of those babies who* alfectionato parents desire to trave without encumbrance*. Tiir tongue of the patient develope I to physicians the disease of the hoti) ami to philosophers the disease of lb | mind. "I Wish I Had Capital." This war the exclamation of a stout, hearty, but Inry young man, Iho other day. Now, suppose you had capital?what would you do with it f Ixst nie tell you, you have capital. Haven't you got hands and feet, and body and mus cle, and bone and brains, and don't call them capital! Oh I but they ate not money, say you. lfut they aro more than money. If you will use them, tbey will make money, and nobody can take them front you. Don't you know how to use them ! If you don't, it is time you were learning. Tako hold of the first plough, or hoe, or jack plane, or broad axe that you can find, and go to work. Your capital will soon yield you a large interest* You don't want to work, you want money or credit that you may play the gentleman and speculate, and end by playing the vagabond ; or you want a plantation of negroes, tbat you may hire an overseer to attend to lliem while yon run about over llto country and dissipate and get 111 ucui ? ur |u?i wnui iu marry hoi lie very rich girl, who may bo foolish enough to take yon for your fine clothes and good looks, that she inav support you. Sliamo on you, young man ! Go to work with tho capital you have ; you'll sx>ii make interest on it, and with it to givo you as much money as yon want, and uinke you feel like a man. If you can't make money upon what capital you have, you couldn't uiako it if you hnd a million of dollars in money. If you don't know how to use bone, muscle and brains, you would not know bow to use gold. If you let the capital you have lio idle and waste and rust out, it would be tho very same thing with you if you had gold ; you would only know how to waste. Then don't stand about like a great helpless child, waiting for somebody to come aud feed you, but go to work.? Take tho first work you can find, no matter what it is, so that you be sure to do it like Billy Gray did his drumming?well. Yes, manage the capital you already have: vou will soon have plenty more to manage ; if you can't or won't manage tlie capital God has given you, you will never havo any more to manage. Do you hear ? Woman Without Religion. A man without religion, is, at best, a poor reprobate, the football of destiny, with no tie linking him to infinity, and to the vronderoua eternity that has begun within him ; but a woman without it is even worse?a tlamo without heat, a rainbow without color, a flower without perfume. A man may, in some sort, lie his frail hopes aud honors, with weak shifting ground tackle, to business or to the world ; but a woman without that anchor, called Faith, is a drift and a wreck 1 A man may clumsily con tinue a kind of moral responsibility out of his relations to mankind ; but a wo man, in her comparatively isolatod sphere, where affection, and not purpose, is the controlling motive, cannot fiud any basis for any system of right action, but that of spiritual faith. A man nifty craze his thought and brain to trustful ess in mien a poor naroorage as fame and Reputation may stretch before hint, but a woman?whero can she put lier hopes in storms, if not in lieaven ?? And that awect truthfulness, that abid, ing love?lightening them with the pleasantest radiance, when the world's storms break like an army of smoking cannon?what can bestow it all, but a holy soul-tie to what is above the storms, and to what is stronger than army with cannon ? Who that has enjoyed the love of a Christian mother, but will echo the thought with energy, and hallow it with a tear! Consolatory.?There is nothing more in consonance with our notion; and sympathies when an " old maid " is the topic of our meditation, than the apostrophe of Jean Paul, who thus expresses his sentiments : u Forsaken and patient one ! Misknown and mistreated 1 Think not of the times when thou k hadst hopes far better than the present arc, and repent the noble prido of thy heart never 1 It is not always oty duty p to marry, but it is always our duty to p abide by right, not to purchase hnppiI ness by the loss of honor, not to avoid unwedtledness by untruthfulness. Lonely, uadmired heroines! In thy last " ? l. >11 i:#. j ii. > i ^ nour, wiivd k?" mo ?uu me oj-gono pos t sessions and bulwarks of life shall crum ble in pieces, ready to fall down?in ) that hour wilt thon look back on Jhy p unlcnated existence?no husband, nc j children, no wet eyes will be there?bul one high, pure, smiling angelic, beain r 'no figure, God like and mounting U , the God-liko, will hover ovor and beck r on thee to mount with bcr?the figun is thy virtueI" It make* a great difference wliethe glasses aro used over or under the nose 1 If the former, the person can see an< 1 go straight ahead?if the latter, th e ^head is rather apt to go where it can1 e see at all. A glass before the eyes, i I apt to lUto a roan a philosopher?oft before the uiouth will most likely tuak him a fool. s '* * ?r, Wiibn Pride and Poverty marry tc e get her, their children are Waul an | Ciiiue. The Word " Selah." The thoughtful reader of the Psalms cannot havo failed to ask himself what the word 44 Solah " means. It Is a lie* .' brow word or sign, which the translators of the Bible have been forced to leave as they found it, from their igoorance or disagreement as to its correct signification. The Targum and most of the Jewish commentators give' to jhe word the meaning of eternally forever. Rabbi Kimchi regards it as a sign to elevate the voice. The authors of the Septusgint translation appear to have regard- * fed it as a musical or rythmical note. Hern or regards it as indicating a change of lone; Matheson, as a musical .note equivalent, perhaps, to the word repeat. According to Lutber, and. others, it is equivalent to the exclamation eilenee / Gcsenius says that " Solah " means, '* Let the instruments play and the singers stop." Woe her regards it as equiv. alcnt to eurenm cordal (up, my soul!) Souuner, after examining ail the seventy-four passages in which the word occurs, recognizes in every case 44 an actual appeal of summons to Jehovah ; they are calls for aid, and prayers to he heard, expressed either with entire directness, or, if not in the imperative M Hear, Jehovah f* or u Awake, Jebovaf. i" 0...1 ?i,? i;i-~ .<;ii ~ ? ~.) i ?WM HIIVI IUV IIAV^f Oil 11 OOI IIUDk PUUIV?" es to God, u tbat be would remember and bear," etc. The word itself, he regards as a blast of trumpets by tbe priosts. Sclah, itself, be thinks, is aa abridged expression used for Higgfcion, indicating tbe soHnd of stringed instruments, and Selab a vigorous blast of trumpets. A Mathematical Phenomenon.? A young man has up-sprung in New York, who lias been gifted with unprecedented powers of calculation. He ' cariies about will) him, for their exhibition, a wooden slate and a piece of chalk. On this slate, in one instance, five columns of ten figures were plaoed, which were replete with the heavier numerals. Mr. Hutchinson (this it the phenomenon's name) was not permitted to see the figures until they were all marked down. He then seizod the chalk, and, with a convulsive jerk, put down at the bottom the correct sum total, with a rapidity that scarcely allowed him time to glance at the figures. The youth does, with the same lightning rapidity, sums in cube and square root. He is engaged by Barnaul, and will give lessons at the museum. The Po9t says that it has been suggested u that any one wishing to 'stump' this remarkable but not vem mous ' adder,' has only to ask him to add up the enormities of our late-Legislature, or the profits that the 'Gridiron speculators will uiake out of the city Railroads." A Fadlb.?A young man once picked up a sovereign in the road. Ever afterwnrds, as he walked along the road, he kept his eyes steadily fixed on the ground, in hopes of finding another. And in the course of a long life he did pick up at different times a good amount of gold and silver. But all these days, as ho wns looking for them, he saw not i that Heaven was bright above him, and nAturo beautiful around, lie never once allowed his eyes to look up from' the muddy filth in which he sought the treasure; And when ho died a rich old man, ho only knew this fair earth, of ours as a dirty road to pick up money as you walk along. Every man who is the head. ef a family, and who has his home in the country, and who is anxious to make ' that home a place of happiness that ' shall be looked back to with fond recollections by his children, when they , come to leave him and go out into the [ wild world, should by no means neglect > the cultivation of fruit. In the days of , childhood and youth, the appetite is keen, and the tasting of a good apple, pear, peach or plum, imparts a most pleasant sensation to the palate. Aud although we may like to partake of those fruits in after life, their pleasant taste w ill never give such a thrill of enjoyment as was experienced in our ju, veuile years. JE3TINQ UrON ScKJITUR K. Til6 Ovils arising from this practice are greater than [ appear at first. It lends, in general, to . irrevorence for Scripture^ No man Would jost with the dying words of his father i or his mother ; yet the words of God are ' quite as solemn. When we have beard > a comic or vulgar tale connected with a L text of Scripture, such is the power of . association, that we never hear the text > afterwards without thinking of the jest. . The effect of this is obvious. He who > in mnoli oti<vorvo/1 in (Kie Ltnr) nf fulon ears* J ? ?? HVII K n MIIIM v? iwinv v v f will come at length to have a large f>or* tion of Holy Scrjpture spotted over by r hit unholy fancy. ^ 'At a recent sale of autograph letters in liOndon, a letter of Washing tnt'i) s rvrlttcn when a subaltern in the service e of the Colonial Government, to the 0 Governor of Virginia, sold for ?15.10. A wike man will dread the begin* > ning of quarrel*. None of us know d how much of the qyil spirit is either in I hiiuself or his adveraarv. _ i