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J ^s 1t 1^ ll jpL . -.i DBTTOTBB TO UTMATUB3, THE ARTS, SCIENCE, AGRICULTURE, NEWS, POLITICS, &C., &G. TERMS TWO SOLLAHS PEE ANNUM,] "Lot it be Instillod into the Hearts of your Children that the Liberty of the Press is the Palladium of all your Rights."?Junius. [PAYABLE IN ADVANCE j VOLUME 6?NjQ. 8. ABBEVILLE C. 1L, SOUTH CAROLINA, FRIDAY MORNING, JULY 2, 1858. . W1I0LE NUMBER269, HATES OF ADVERTISING. The Proprietors of the Abbeville Manner and Independent Prcsn, have established t.lie followng rates of Advertising to be charged in both papers: Every Advertisement inserted for a less lime than three months, will be charged by the in'ucrtion at OlIC Dollar per Square, (1? inch "?the space of l'isolid linear less,) for the first 'hSertion, and Fifty Cents for each subsequent insertion. 13?" The Commissioner's, Sheriffs, Clerk'# . und Ordinary's Advertisement'* will be inserted in both papers, each chareing half price. EST Sherilf's Levies, One Dollar each. {ST Announcing a Candidate, IFive Dollars. Advertising an Ttsl.ray, T?VO Dollars, , w uw |>uiu uy uic jiniiis'iruif. Advertisements inserted for three months, or longer, at the following rates : 1 square 3 months $5 00 1 square 6 months 8 00 1 square 0 months 10 00 1 square 12 months - 1*2 00 2 squares 3 months 8 00 *Jt squurcs 0 months - 14 00 2 squares 0 months 18 on 2 squares la months - 20 00 3 squares 3 months - - - - - 10 00 3 squares 0 months ------ 10 00 3 squares 9 months ------ 21 00 3 squares 12 months 25 00 4 squares 3 months - -- ---12 00 4 squares 6 months 20 00 4 squares 9 months ------ 26 00 4 squares 12 months ------ 30 00 6 squares 3 months ------ 15 00 6 squares 6 months ------ 25 00 5 squares 9 months ------ 31 00 squares 12 months ------ 35 00 6 squares 3 months ------ 20 00 <> squares 0 months ------ 30 00 6 squares 9 months 36 00 ? squares 12 months 40 00 7 squares 3 inonths 25 00 7 squares 6 montl^g 35 00 7 squares 9 months - 41 00 7 squares 12 months 45 00 8 squares 3 months 30 00 8 squares C months 40 00 8 squares 9 months 46 00 1 8 squares 12 months 50 00 lw'llittimiH nf Kminrnti will lif> cluirtrml in nn?. portion to the above rates. I ES!?" Business Curds for the t?rm of one ! 1 3'car, will be charged in proportion to the j | space they occupy, at One Dollar per line j space. ; I For all advertisements set in doithfr < ?>/- j ( 7tout. Fifty per Cent, extra will be added to the above rates. DAVIS <fc CREWS, t for linnnrr ; . LEE <fc "WILSON, 1 For J'rvK*. ! MISCELLANY. t Thn Tnrv Prparhor anH Vrtiinor OR, CIIUHCII DISCIPLINE IS OLDEN TIMES, i | It was a warm, sultry day in August, one of those quiet, happy days when even the j grass hopper and butterfly seem weary of i play, and take an afternoon nap under some ! green leaf, or enjoy their golden dreams in ! the fragrant cup of some summer flower. ! Tho high road is truvol-worn and dusty, j nuu VVVI v oiiiuL* rtliu UU3U Xjy HJU waysiue | seems weary of the beat, and drooping be- | neatb tbo weight of dust. Naught looks cool, save the dark woods in the dtstancc, f and the weary psdestrain longs to turn aside, ( cross tbc little rustic bridge which spans the brook, aind rest awhile under those wide- i spread elms, which stand like sentinels at the entrance of the wood. But the cares of ' life call bim away, and be must plod on i amid the toil and duet Arwl s this world, until the evening brings its dark- 1 ne&sand rest. 6 Mot far from those trees, at the end of a 1 green lane, stands Father Morris' cottage. 4 it is plastered and whitewashed upon the 1 outBide. The fragrant hop, with its luxu- 1 rions foliage and light green blossoms, has ( covered the gable end of the house, and ' ?i ? ?%ujuibiuuoijr laiiuiwu vj mo very rooi, While 1 the little door yard in front is filled with flowers and vines. They look as if tended ^ by some more tasteful hand than that of 1 Father Morris, who has spent a great part ' of his life in the camp and bailie field. Ay, there is the little fairy who presides over 1 the garden. She has just wheeled her ! grandfather's arm chair under the shade of 1 the grapery, and is now seating herself on a etool by bis 6ide. How carelessly she 1 brushes those rich brown curls from her 1 forehead, and how coaxiDgly she looks up 1 into the old gentleman's face. I "Now, grand pa, I've done spinning, and pat all things in order; grand roa is asleep i in the bedroom, and Aunt Sally has gone 1 to tfie Sewing Society ; now wont you tell 1 me a story of old times ?" < Father Morris sat leaning upon his large Ivorg-headed cane, bis white hair so long 1 tfiat it Almost touched his itboulders, and bis mild blue eye full of quiet enjoyment, as he gazed upon this pet of bis old age?bis. favorite grand-daugLter. He patted her on the head, and was about to com- i ply with her request, when the found of the village bell was beard, and its slow, monotonous tones told of (Mptl). A lace stopped? smile passed from her countenance?and turning her b&d in the direction whence Uie sounds came, sbe raised tier'fore finger ] towAtd her grtnd-fatber, as if to My, ' don't epesk'" and commenced counting the strokes < of the be(i. It wtu a Iong time she 'thus i stood, while the old gentleman, who was 1 deaf, sat watching her countenance at ten- I Wy- fmwi to,W?d* bin*, at length, i the bell tolled, be knew for whom it rung ? those sad notes, and his heart was now bus^ with tho past. Memories of other days, ol days when the blood circulated Bwiflly through his youthful limbs, and be could boast of health, strength and vigor?scenes of strife and tumult, battle Gelds and couti v.. VW.M..UWIC) V? vj nun J iuoisiuu, auu IllUU' pendence achieved. All iheso were connected with thoughts of his friend, who had just passed from earth. What a depository of relics must an old man's heart he! Not buried Pompeii or llerculaucum prcseut more subjects of thought than one human heart, could wo look beneath the lava, rubbish and dust with which years and intercourse with the world have covered it. The crust is often deep and hard to be penetrated, but now and then an opening is made, and we have a glance at the depths beneath. It was thus now with Father Morris, and tho wise man, had he been there, and looked at the shuttered hopes, which, like beautiful ruins, were scattered over that life, and at the stranded wrecks upon the shore, would have exclaimed anew: "All is vanity aud vexation of spirit." 13ut poor Alice thought only of losing her story. Seeing the mood of her grandfather, 6he sat down by his side, and leaned her head upon his knee. Tho trembling hand was by the power of habit involuntarily laid upon it; but tho touch recalled his wandering o thoughts, ami he said : "I must follow soon, Ally. My old companions-in-arms are almost all dead. My armor is worn and rusty, and I must soon lay it aside; but I will not disturb your young heart with sad thoughts. Go bring my pipe, and I will tell a story of old times, but it shall bo about this same Major Saf"urd?I can think of no one else this after10011." "i a railier Jicar about something else," bought Alice, but she never thwarted her fraud father's wishes. So lighting: his pipe from the embers of lie kitchen fire, sho returned with her Uniting work, and resumed her scat. ' You see, Ally," 6aid the old man, after aking a few whiff* from his pipe, and knocking the ashes therefrom, holding it in lis hanJ a moment, and glancing at his mug little cottage and garden, which rustled unid tlie shrub-bery like a bird's nest in the jreen leaves of a tree, "You see, Ally, maters were not always as pleasant and pcaee"ul as now. In the early settlement of Yernont, there were stirring times amid these jreen hills, find it was pot without many a jloodv frav and fierce battle that, wa soiil^ lown so quietly under "our own vine and ig tree," as the minister says iu Lis parysr. "You had to fight the Indians, I suppose," 3aid Ally. > ,,r?en times worse than "that, dear child ; >ve had to fight the York lories. I cannot ixpiam it ali to you, for its a long story, md would puzzle your littlo head ; but to nake it Ehort, ye see, tho folks over tho Hudson thought they had a claim to the is bis side, and they sent out to Eng' .. tnd >btained, as they said, royal authoiuy to bo claim. Then they sent officers here vith narfthmnnt rnlln nn<l nom.ro - g MUM |#H|#VIU waiicu leeds, and threatened to turn us out of our lomes, and from tbo lands we bad with bo nucli labor cleared. "Well, the Oreen Mountain boys, with Ethan Allen at their head, determined to resist, and you know, for you - have often iieard mo tell, how they fought. ul5'it speaking of those times reminds me of what I meant to tell you when I bo un, that is a sort of love story, in which .he Mnjor and myself were interested." At these words, Alice dropped her knit,ing work, though it was not in the seam needle, and looked up with much interest? In which you were interested, did you say, grandpa?" ?V/?o y.l.II-1 ...i? T > ? ? - vunu, ttiicu i was young ana looiisb, and easily taken with a pretty face; ind the love part would not be worth repeating now only as connected with the jourage of the Major." 4,Oh, tell the whole, grandpa. I don't like half stories." "Well, well, don't interrupt me, and I will proceed. I said tb\p courage of the >ld major. It requires some courage to :nter a battle field, and stand there as a mark to be shot at by the enemy, and fee) that your body may be food for carrion ; but to defy the minister in his pulpit, with ill his church to back him, requires more Hill." "I thought it was a lore story,* grand"Have patience, child, and 111.come to he point at last. Wall, you aaa, our minster was a tory, and though he didn't ?ay to in platn wotnh, I've no doubt btit he beieved in tlia divine right of kings. At any ate. iie bad a great deal to say about iba beings ordafnad of God*. 104 ba?lway? p?ayad fcropr law fu I sovarM* li ^ r 1 iru. -i' Nriamigbt bfttrtrf?n<t ityfli 3ttt Safford *Ms a staanoh Republican fcfa/J r^wfoflgw ?pl*? **&*??. daEggtt ?eir tip * ta'cyrial^Otth'tj between tm pfc f ' son and the young man, and when the forf mer, with all his dignity and dignities, viz: ' powdered wig, threo cornere<l hat, and silI vered buckles, walked tlio streets, SaflTord never bowed, but walked straight along, as it' he scorned ubcdicnce to one who would bend the knew to an earthly king. But ho J still continued to go to meeting, and would j sit as patiently through the long sermons | and loyal prayers, as good old Deacon Burr ! himself. The truth was, this same Deacon , j had one daughter, and a prettier girl than , Polly Burr never entered a village church ; i or, I might say, graced a palace. She had a roguish black eye, anJ her hair curled J naturally; you never saw it in paper, oven in tho morning; and then sho was so noat and trim in her gingham short gown and while petticoat, and at meeting sho looked pretty enough to make a young man's heart ache. "She was the hello of tho village, and at quillings, and paring bees, aud dances, she was the life of the conipafty. I had long had my eyes upon her as tho choice of my heart, but thero were so tnany that went to SCO hf>r nn Snnilnu ovnniri/rc il ""> > , J 1/1.1. seldom that I could find a chanco to speak with Iter. But was industrious and prudent, saving all that I could earn, that I might have a pleasant home to offer. Tlio Deacon, too, favored me, and seeing I was of a steady turn of mind, often invited mo to his house. Hut young Safford, it seems, all unbeknown to tho Deacon, loved her also ; but he was such a wild, bold youth, and moreover, so at sword's point with the min! istor, that lie never dared reveal his feelings, j save by sundry little attentions, noticed only by Polly herself Now it happened that the Deacon had, with great labor, cleared a patch and planted it with corn. It was ; growing finely on the new, rich land, and | the young ears were already formed, and j promised a fine harvest, but for several suc| cessive Sundays, there was great destruction in me corn nekl. In vain he made scarecrows and set traps, and even put one of bis old coats on a pole, a siglit that would frighten the worst boy io the village, for lie was tbe tithing raan, that terror of rogues. But the next Sunday the mischief was repealed, till the patience of the old gentleman was nearly worn out. But he belonged to a church remarkable for the rigidity of its tenets and the strictness of its discipline ; to have permitted any one to stay at home to watch a cornfield would have been considered a heinous offence. "I declare," said the old deacon one Sunday after sundown , "we shall lose all our corn, unless we catch those rascally thieves. Who knows but they are Indians?" As he spoke he accidentally looked at Polly. She sat in the corner of the rrraat _ O oak settle which stood before the fire, watching the puffing steam from tho tea kettle, and looking somewhat sad. "Why, Polly," said tho deacon, with more animation than usual, "among all the rest of my troubles lately, I Lave been bothered by two or three young men who want you for a wife. I have a mind to say that whoevei will shoot or take prisoner the thief who steals my corn, shall havo you for a wife." Polly looked up in surprise at this novel mode of disposing of her hand ; but the next instant there was a roguish twinkle in her black eye, and turning to her father she said gaily, "A bargain, if you please." ouo knew very well who would be first upon the field, and whose courage and perseverance would be the most likely to bold out the longest. "But will you keep your promise, father!" "I wouldn't have it said that the deacon of the church ever told a lie ; so I say it now?whoever will shoot or take priconer the thief, shall havo Polly Burr for bis wife." This conversation was overheard by tho hired boy, and soon circulated through tho village. Great was the commotion among the young men of tho place. As for myself, I rodo far and near; I examinod the corn field by night, and devised every means in my power to ascertain the offender. In deed, one whole night I watched behind the stnmp of an old tree. But there was no avail. But the very next Sunday, when Parson Goodman was saying, "the ninth bead of my.discourse,'n the congregation were startled by the report of agun. There was a general rising, and great commotion among the- women. Our thought wits of Indians or Tories. Thire' was a rush for the door, a tumbling over children and a sorwraiog of , their pwth-. Ml \ ' 1 But what; our, fltfrprjM, wh#n fib# landed upon {tie gtfen, to see young Saf""^'h" b"et '?v?yw W wpwftfl?! UM M<r last. Late wHh I Lint, Jeptba like, ho had made a rush vow. Tho minister was the first to break silenoo. Ilis indignation nt being disturbed iu his discourse, and bis anger at such an open violation of holy time, were at the boiling point, lie exclaimed in his loudest tones : "Young man, who are you, that you should disturb the worship of the sanctuary ? Kn^w you not that you are breaking tho laws-of I God and man ? Constable Chanmati. nr. _ -J y ... rest this man and hold him prisoner until further disposal can bo mado of his person 1" Poor Safiord was thunderstruck ; he had intended no harm, but in his eagerness to display his prize, and supposing service over, ho had hastened towards the village. It had not oncc oecured to him that he was a church member, and as such liable to ccnsure. IIo knew that it was wrong to absent himself from meeting, but he thought the ofFcnco would be pardoned, because of the benefit cotifered. Seeing ho was about to betaken prisoner, he at first resisted, but recollecting that he was in the hands of a legal officer, ho thought best to submit quietly. His confinement, however, was ~i i ?i 1? ? oiiimi, iiuu ituuiucr mode ot punishment proposed. During the week r? church meeting was called, and young Saftord cited to appear thereat, and give reasons why ho should not be excommunicated from church for his high-handed wickedness. The deacon was present, but PuIIy was nowhere to ho seen. When her father proposod so summarily to dispose of her hand, her first thought was of Safford, and knowing his hold and daring spirit, she felt suro that ho would win. Poor girl! She little thought of such a sad 4: _.r ?i - n* mi i I ici uiiioiiuii ui mo imair. io oe excommunicated from churcli was, in tlie eyes of llint little community, a most grievous infliction. Such unfortunates were considered as losing caste, and were ranked among pagans and infidels. Safi'ord pleaded liis own causo with all the eloquence he could command. In vain did he contend that it was lawful to do good on tho Sabbath day ; lie spoke before judges determined to condemn. lie was accordingly condemned to bo present on me next Sabbath, when the sentence would be read. In the meantime the lovers had an interview. Poor Polly could do littlo else but weep. Her father said nothing, but lookod stern and displeased. M13ut you say, Lfolly," repeated Safford, "that if I am not cxcommuniuated, your father will consent?" "He cannot help doing so," she answered; "but ho thinks the Bible condemns church members marrying non-professors, and would not dare to give his consent to our marrage if they turn you out of the cliurcli." "Uut I tell you I am not gctiqg to leave tho chnrch; .that tory minister will find that ho canoot manage ma so easily." "But it is already decided," 6aid Polly ; "the papers are already made out, and tomorrow it will be read." * "They will no^read it, trust me, Polly and thus they parted. Sunday came, and with it the whole con-*4'-" ,nl * * " ' fj.vgouuii i*j luccimy. i ne wuoie, dul 1 say ? All except young Safford. But when the afternoon service was about half over, he entered, his gun loaded with a bruce of halls, his sword and cartridge box on his side, and his knapsack on his back with six days provisions in it. lie marched into a corner and there took up his position. As soon as the benediction was prouounced, Parson Goodman began to read the excom- | munication, but had not proceeded far when Safford entered tho aisle in his martial array, cocked and leveled bis pistol, exclaiming, "Proceed, if you daro 1" "Proceed, and you ire a dead man !n* Tho poor man, overwhelmed with astonishment and fear, shrunk behind bis pulpit, and handed the paper to one of bis deacons. He, trembling from head to foot, endeavored to obey. The same threat was renenta^ And o/Li^ "Desist and march, or you are all dead men ! I will not leave this bouse in shame!" Not many minutes elapsed before the bouse was cleared, and the daring young man Iqft its sole occupant. He locked the door, put tbekeysin his pocket, and sent them the nw day, with his respect#, to the minister, lie thus remained member of tbe church jn "good and" regular standing," tyitil the I -day h is death. Deacon Burr reoeived such cfrtdeoce. of (he perseveranoe of* his 3*52' ' '."i n?- '*? /S# - ' WW?:-J Beir-eiectca sod, inttu dared not to refuse bi? U?e ffifnfop. "And gramjpn, didu't you feel badly 3" jy A--,*/ - wr'T'rJ'' , *11^% ym r Hymn of the Seasons. The heavenly spheres to thee, O God, 'Attuno their evening hymn ; All-wise, all-holy, thou are praised In song of seraphim. Unnumbered systems, suns, and worlds Unite to worship Thee; While Thy iu<\jestic greatness fills Space, time, eternity. j.iivim i:, u ium|>ie woriuy iitee. Beams with Tliy light ami love ; Whose flowers so sweetly bloom below, Whose stars rejoice above : Whose altars are the mountain clilTs That rit>e along the shore; Whose anthems the sublime accord Of storm and ocenu-ronr. lTer song of gratitude is sung By Spring's awakening hours Her summer olFers at thy shrine Its earliest, loveliest flowers : 11 or autumn brings iu golGou fruits, In glorious luxury given ; While Winter's silver heights rcflact Thy brightuess baek to heaven. 1J() WRING. Tho Hair of the Presidents. In the Patent Office, at Washington, there are many objects of interest connected with the Government and those who administered its affairs in times gone by. While examiuing some of these objects of curiosity, when in Washington, in Decern ucr last, Itiere was nothing tlint struck us so I forcibly ns the samples of small locks of hair . taken from the heads of the different chief magistrates, from President Washington | down to President Pierce, secured in frame I covered with glass. Here is, in fact, a part ; and parcel of what constituted the living j bodies of those illustrious individuals, whose \ names are as familiar as houso hold words j but who now live only iu history and the ! remembrances of the past. The hair of Washington is nearly a pure white, fine and smooth in its appearance. That of John Adams is nearly the same in color, though perhaps a little coarser. The hair of Jefferson is ol a different character, being a mixture of white and auburn, or a sandy brown, and ratlver coarse. In his youth, Mr. Jefferson's hair was remarkable for its bright color. The hair of Madison is coarse, and of a mixed white color. Tlie hair of Monroe is a handsome, dark auburn, smooth and free from any admixture whatever. lie is the only President, excepting Pierce, whose hair has undergone no change in color. The hair of John Quincy Adains i3 pccu liar, being coarse and yellowish gray in color. The hair of Gen. Jackson is almost a perfect white, but coarse in it? character, as might be supposed by those who have ex? amined the portraits of the old hero. The linir of Van Buren is white and smooth in appearanee. The hair of General Harrison is fine white with a slight admixture of black. The hair of John Tyler is a mixture of white and brown. The hair of James K. Polk is almost a pure white. The hair of Gen. Taylor is white, with a slicht admixture of brown. , The hair of Millard Fillmore is, on the other hand, brown, with a slight admixture of white. The hair of Fiaukliu Tierce is a dark brown, of which he has a plentiful crop. Life Illustrated. ?i*?MiDvw&tciA wauautty Rev. G. W. Browulow, tbe eccentric but talented editor of the Kuoxville Whiff, is in attendnnce on the General Conference of tbe M. E. Church ?outh, which is now in session at Nashville, Term., and concludes one of his letters to the Whig after this style. It is to be hoped that Mrs. Iirownlow ib in blissful! ignorance of the petticoat proclivities and tender " takings on" of her amiable ppouse. If over the " fighting preacher" should become a widower the ladies of Nashville may look out for breakers: " I must, in conclusion, be permitted to say a Tew words about the many beautiful ladies in attendance at this Conference.? The spring time of the year, the attractions of Xuphville, the modes of conveyance, and the wealth of many of the Southern Methodists, induces them to come hero with their wives, sisters and daughters; and added to tho resident ladies here, I have never seen so many beautiful, elegant and lovely vvuiuuii loyumur uu any occasion, i liave gazed upon tbero, as they Lave gracefully glided by me on tbe pavement?as they 1 have ascended and descended tbe several' 1 flights of steps in tbe capitol?as tbey bave been seatod in the galleries, and at church, and still the wonder grew, tbat so much silk 1 and so many hoops should encircle the an- ' gelic forms of bo many beautiful women!? I All I regret i9 that skirtdom is still expand- * : i ii.- f.-l!? L1 .. . ug, uuu ui? itutuiuus ia vogue are still increasing tbo distance between man and v.o- 1 man!'' AtJtme moirient I feel like exclaim- < ing, 4 Ob, Chat I were a'boy again 1' The , next moment I feel indignant at ibe hoops, aud feel willing to join, a rogimont of good men in a vigorous assault upon (liejattan, whalebone, cords, brase and steel, that have { as under wbat God bath said dught to be i joined together I Only think of tlie display on our aA^jp/tn the Slate capitol. atchurch and in the parlor, of the grand, graceful and undulating skirts, looming uj>. all aroiM one, fascinating, charming apd amoglflg.to \ and fro, liltfaO r^any tbingi?<if VfoV; VWlc * about 4ie grandeur of daaa aUadjer, ,< of a train of oar* propelled j Fallaciousness of Vegetarianism. On surveying tTio list of uations and tribes whose,,food is principally, or entirely. vegetable, wo are naturally led to nsk wliat confidence is due to that party in America and England which proclaims Vegetarianism to bo the proper creed for civilised man, and vegetable fond the healthiest and suitabk-st in every way. Many years ago I was myself a convert to the doctrine, seduced by llie example and euthusiasm of Shelly, and, for six months in which I rigidly adhered to its precepts, could find no sensible difference except that I was able to study immediately after dinner. It soon became clear, however, that the arguments on which I this doctrine rests for support would not I withstand physiological scrutiny. It is unnecessary to allude to sucli fautnstic arguments as that of Ilousseau, who maintained vegetables to bo the pioper food because we i have two breasts like the vegetable feeders; j an argument as worthless a^ the counter j argument of Helvetia*, that flesh is the only proper food, because we have the blind intestine short, like tho flesh-feedcift. The vegetarian theory is at variance with the plain indications afforded by our structure, and by the indications no less plain offorded by our practice. The structure of our teeth and intestinal canal points to a mixed diet of llesh and vegetable; and although the practice of millions may be to avoid flesh altogether, it iscnuallv the nrncti nf millions to eat it. In hot climates there teems littlo or no necessity for animal food4; in cold climates it is imperatively demanded. In moderate climates, food is partly animal and partly vegetable. Against instinct, so manifested, it ia in vain to argue : any theory of food which should run counter to it stands self condemned. Besides this missive evideuce we have abundant examples in individual cases to show how necessary animal food is for those who have to employ imicli muscular exertion. The French contractors and manufacturers who were obliged to engage English navvies and workmen, because French workmen had not the requisite strength, at last resolved to try the eft'ect of a more liberal meat diet; and by giving the Frenchmen as ample a ration of meat as that eaten by tl.o Fn.rllcli.Wrtn ll.A.liflT. ? ? w Uiv UlMUIVilVQ ? ?ia OUU1I I C" duced to a mere nothing. It is worth noticing that the popular idea of one Englishman being cijual to three I'renchmen, was found by contractors to be tolerable accurate, one Englishman really doing the work of two and half men ; and M. Payen remarks that the consumption of mutton in England is three times as much as that in France, to proportion to the inhabitants. Blackwood. Important Truths for Wives. In domestic happiness, the wife's influence is much grenter than her husband's ; for the one, t:.e flrst cause?mutual love and confidence?being granted, the whole comfort of the household depends upon trifles rnpro immediately undr her jurisditiou. liy management of small sum;:, he*; husband's respectability and eredit are created or destroyed. No fortune can stand the constant leakages of extravagance and mismanagement; and more is spent in trifles than woman would easily believe. The one great expense, whatever it mny be, is turned over and carefully reflected on ere ihaiired; the income is prepared to meet it; but it is pennies imperceptibly sliding away which do the mischief; and tins the wife alone can stop, for it does not come within a man's province. There is often an unsuspected triflo to b*e saved in every household. It is not in economy alone that the wife's attention is so necessary, but in inose nine niceties wincli.mark a wellregulated hoaso. An unfurnished cruetstand, a missing key, a buttonless shirt, a soiled table-cloth, a m>jstard-pot with its old contents sticking hard and brown about it, , are severally nothings; but each can raiso an angry word or cause discomfort. Depend on it, there's a great deal of domestic happiness in a well-dressed mutton-chop or a tidy breakfast-table. Men grow sated df beauty, tired of music, are often too wearie#'for conversation, (howevbr intellectual;) hilt th?v #>nn nlivauu nnni-o?!>.ln ?t ?i"l I -a ? ?/??.! I J .. ..v.. hearth and smiling comfort. A woman may loves her husbrnd devotedly?map sacrifice fortune, friends, family, country for him?alio may have thd geniua of a Sappho, the enchanting beauties of an Armida; but?melancholly fact?if with these she fail to make ins home, comfortable, his heart will inevitably ascapo her. And woman live so entirely in the affections that without love their existence is a void. Better submit, then, to household tasks, however repugnant they may be to your tastes, than doom yourself to a loveless home.? rir ? - - woman oi uie mguer order of mind will nob run this rick : they know th^t their Feminine, their domestic, aro their first duties^ n . . Excellent Rules.?Always tako - Uie part of ait absent.persou who is censured iu jonipany, so far as truth and propriety will illow. Never dispute if you cair fairly avoid it. Nor dispute with an old m4o more than _ . - ?* . teveniy years.or age, nor uriUi woman, lor with An enthosiftst. vV ^ ; . ; . Nor affect to bo tHtty; ?> to jest; . Say w lianas.ppafcyble of .myself and bote wh?r?rosiK?at,me. ' k Aim at cheerfulness without' levity. *? ^evefeodrt the- faVoi- of tWridr,bpfaC *' & Z*f fepeat With ckfrtirtefw nn^'cotwnijerntiqn ^ all.occaaiow.; eap^ly^iWin^^ ! Mt'.wllllih (All'in ii4ltlM< .vr.v.ij./^'.lr, V. General Directions for Preserving1. Perhaps at the present season a few general hints on preserving, for the use ofa young houswife, may not bo unaoceptable'. Several of the directions may appear noou,-" Io83 ; but tliere may bo some experienced persons to whom they may bo beneficial. 1. Let everything used for tl^purposo be clean and dry; especially bottles'. , , 2. Never placo a preserving pan^a* ,<?? lhe fire, as this will render the preserve liable to burn to, as it is called?that is to .^ay, to adhere closely to the tnotal, and then to bum : it should always rest on a trevel, or on the lower bar of the kitchen range. After the sugar is added to them, stir . 4 tlio preserves gently at first, and more ! ? :?i?? : juivaiv vvnaiu^ lUG CUU# WlLllUUL fJUllUUg* tliem until tliey are done ; this precaution* will prevent tlnjir being spoiled. 1. All preserves shou'.d be perfectly-clear from the scum as it rises. 5. Fruit which is to be preserved in syrup must first be blanched or boileJ, gently until it is sufficiently softened to absorb the sugar ; and a thin syrup must be pour-,; ed on it at first, or it will shrivel instead of remaining plump and becoming clear. Thus.. :r:? ?. . < ' . ^ ? .. -t A - ii iuj wuigiH 01 sugar is to Da allowed,. ?td boiled to a syrup, with.? pint of water to the pound, only half tbe weight itiust bo taken at first, and this must not be boiled with the water more than fifteen or twenty minutes at tbe commencement of the process. A part of the remaining sugar* must be added every lime the syrup is reboiled, unless it should be otherwiso directed in the recipe. G. To preserve both the true flavor and the color of fruit in jams and jellies, boil them rapidly until they are well reluced, be: fore the sugar is ad Jed, and quickly afterwards, hut do not allow them to become too much thickened that the sugar Will notdissolve in them easily, and throw Upit^ scum. In some seasons tho juice is 80' rfiucli' richer than in others that this effect takes place almost before one is awarq of it; but the crop which adheres " to the skimmer,". when it is lield up, will show tho state it has reached. 7. Never use tin, iron, or pewter spoon*' or skimmers for preserves, as they will convert tho color of red fruit into a dingy, purple, and impart, besides a very unpleasant' flavor. 8. When cheap jams or jellies are required, make them at once with loaf sugary but use that which is well refined, always fur preserves in common. It is a false ecou^ omy to purchase an inferior kind,' as there is great waste from it in the largo quantity i/i ovum wumu il lurows up; 9. Pans of copper or bcll-metai are tie* proper utensils for preserving fruit; "U'heri' used tbey must be scoured l/riglit with' snnd. Tinned pans turn and destroy tlfo color of tlie fruit tbat is to/put in them. A' stewpan made of iron, coated with earthenware is very uice for preserving. Godei/s Ladifit Boole: * Hamilton's Gharaoter of Ma j. Andre. J There was something singularly interesting in the character and fortunes of Andre;' To an excellent understanding, well improved by education and travel, lie united a^ipcriliar elegance of tuiBd and manners, and tbef, advantages of a pleasing person-. 'Tis SaicT be possessed a pretty taste for the fine arts,' and bad himself attained some'' proficiency in poetry,music, nnd painting. His knovwedgo' appeared without ostentation, and'^taibelli.shed by a diffidence that rarely accorfr-' panies ao many talents and accomplishments,' which left you to^s oppose more than ap-'; peared. II is sentiments were elevated, and inspired esteem; they had. a softness that conciliated affection. II19 '.eloauence was handsome;' his address easy/polite, and insinuating. By his merit, be had acauireq, the unlimited coufideuce of bis general^ and. was making a rapid progr?83 in riulitafy'. rank and reputation. But in the height of *" his career, flushed with new hopes from the execution of a oroiect the moat beneficial, to' his party that could he devise*^ h& wasaJt once precipitated from the summit tif-.-jjtooifi parity, and saw all the expectations 01 1m ambition blasted, and himself ruioed. The cbaraQter I have given of him ia drawn partly from what I saw of him myself, and partly from information.,'Iami aware that, a man of real merit is nover (teon1 in so fnvonjJWe a light as through tbe raedT-j tin AP arl traVtai cr I!?.? -JWW ..... u.wuo Vtinb tturruBM htm are shades that set off -bb goo^qa\tP j ties. Misfortune cuts down the litWVRtii- 1 ties that, in prosperous ti cries* serVe. as-*0>' many apota in bis. virtues, ttn4>4^^?Mot>e> pf humility that main* his wortp vacfi* a m'nvblw. l!is apMtttota, #bo epjoy a hap* pier lot, are less prone to detradt ffofo'it through-envy, and .ara compassion, lo give bim the or^U^.^4^ tin*i of gy Ml