: ,- .
i s. A lA MTT V AT E AV S ? A ? E R 1ST
tALVTN II. WILEY;
U-TT i .r x AT T. COOKE.
j Y'rTEI.TON WADlKI.l4 JR'
UTRAL W POLITICS.
' ! I -. - V . . : : - --- 4-' ' - - - - ' ; - . - 1 : I
- - .....,,.. .... .. . ... ., - i t t : -
11 111, 11 - -Yin i r i ! n n u 1 1 . iHMi 11 m n,uiimi uii
WHOLE XO. 79.
A lTCLE HOME.
" I wish, raamnlat,, said E I t Ilar
n, that - we were rich, like the
' l.terea. " It is so disagreeable liv
' in a sinaHliouse with onlv four
!3 in it.'- If we were only rich I
bo satisaod. "
so u ssweet looking."
corner of, the room, with her young
est child, a rosy-cheeked, curly-head
ed little fellow of four years, asleep
on her lap, looked up with a mourn
ful smile into the beautiful face of
1 "Thousands, nay dear child," she
said, " are at this moment breath
ing a similar wish. Is it not a
great pity their wishes cannot be
gratified ? What a happy world we
should have ! Dou'fyou think we
! Tliere was a slight accent of irony
in Mrs. .Harrison's tone, and Ella
From an English Periodical.
MAEEYING AN ESTABLISHMENT :
Xtt a tfivafc iiMnr mtva! tha wna n( wllif.h nrfl
copied more or less failhtullv from real lite, the plot
turns llliitn niMrrisiiro rf i-tiivAiiiiif In sll. li
witli t!it? n'lounitid- p
(irtivul us ot' the .iccideat,
THELATE RAILROAD ACCIDENT AT KGRWAII,' ON THE NEW YORK AND NEW HAVEN RAILROAD-
'::v' ! : . i 1 Vt 1
lii abo'skvJc'i is aco'riNt ropre's-r-nfiti n of tin scne .of tho lute R-i:lro;il . catastrophe, at N-rwalk, on the New York ant' New Ilaven Railroad. Our readers are
l-i. i 4 -i 1 .1 1 ' J l i. , 1 1:
winch is uudouutjaiy vHout a parallel m tue nisiory 01 uaurona u!&iici:
ESCAPE OF FONTANE.
TWENTY YEARS AG 3.
iin i: which- sheltered
l-ve w.ih'lcred to the village,
; tlic tree, " J-.
1'l'OH ; lie sclio i ho'ie play-
- f on an 1 me : K ' i
But -none were there to greet me, 'Pom, a few were
I left to know, i " i ",!"'"
That playyl uith' ius; upon ;fu gr .ss, so.:ne' twenfy
", . years.; go.
DiH-inj? trie sei-'e of L'Xas. 'the ooet, -Fontane,
I had bttcn shut no wi'Ii hi-j fami'v in the midst .of
I J.he city i:i ruins. Full ota'arm for thtf.fate of his
j . Tottng jjiulin&ijv. 'vgeujvf -L at. ,aJU risls.to
i escape"if he could. 1 v
j jlli ing obtained a passport, a difilculty arose as
!'to li.iw be. eon!d car'rv awafsoini' olate and other
- - j .
'valuable articles, then coasileyd piite aim repiib
i In. in Am.iniT ihesrt ' vainai es a cliatxe, a
The: grass' is just a.5? gree
rVm-.m-? these 'va.uoiles wa
lr.'sent from a sovereirii on whk-h an able aisi-t
of he Kiiiir of S ud tii i.
bar'e footed boys at i'F.lntane gr-'atlv diva-led";lestthis- chaiiec. should W-
ad eng ayed the arm
Were sporting just as we did
ft lit t!:e " Jlastef 1 sleeps Upon the !ti!l, which coated
. o'er ith sno, . -, . ' j : -
''Afforded us a slidiiij-placf, just twenty .year's ago. '.
f-- ' " j : ' t - ! - M f
; The old s,;h-ol-.ho'use U aU'jrecl some ; the benches are
replaced ."!- - .. f ' .
Iy new o 'ts, erJ like the same bbr penknives had
. L tlef.iflil. ' ' i: .
But the saui'e old liricks arcs in the -wall ;l the bell
,v..r,.,l . a- !.iii :i rts('l".v- (1 in tiie si'i" iee. of
hen, witlrspirip just as ; cl, nrch,. ad ' VM.ari tig 'the amis - f iking, it would
tt.Il h thr.Mih d n'ro ! t a iUicracv, .lljvvevT,
l sWiiv's l o arid .fro.
Its rnusie 's just ' the ..sahic,- dear Tom, 'twas twenty
h-i decided on taking it, and hastened to the house
'u'f.a triend wh had been a ntrsery g;i doner.
I The ipoet theu laid- a-ide a I his feudal ornaments
: a-nd sat about exchanging his clothes to give
s if another apparanee.
Llaviiif; d reused himself in wide pantaloons, and
: singes stunk full of large nails, his hair cropped,, and
'. t Ai-t.1..-. n-!iin rtf ii-wd.-r fctnovril. lie eineriTe i trotn
1 . 1 . . .' 1 1 i' . I
s ;!iie old tree
"The boy- are: playing' some old game, beneath that
you've played the
with knives, by
Still ; the willows da its
-T do forget the name just' now
. . ' tsaine "uh me, ;
O.n tha! same sprit : 'twas
Thedeader had a ink to'Jo there, twenty y'eafs ago
The river's running jnst as
. Are larger than 'hey were. Torn ; the stream appears
; . jes( wide j
But 'i lTe'g'i'ape-vine swing is rjuined now, where dnee
we played t e beau, ;.
, And'" swung our I s.veet-hcarts "pretty. girls'' just
tvcnty years ; go. I
the oardener's house in the character of a lauudre.-s's
: porter, with, a heavy basket 6t clothes on his siMjukl
' t.r---tjie plate, and ca!iee "caivfuliy packed .'under
I'the linen. " His young family follow d a tew paces
lb 'hind him with the passport, butt -v had t-; pss
i'elose to the terrible inst.unu.-ut of deaJi, . f.-r there
.; ifs'tood,-always .ready for use. I'ontaHe shu 1-ered.
i His wjfe tinned pale. To theni their .situation was
iawftd.-'But reason and "necessity' urged them on.
I'R.i.f'niia pwnlvwl t net a d.c'uled narl. He walk-
led ui) in front of the guol-tine, or rapping t he basket
the hill, close by the
that we could al-
The spring Uiat.bVib.Wed neatli
spreading lieecfi, ,
", It's very iiijr 'twas once so j low
;- most reach - ! ., S , ! ;
' And kiK'eling doyn to get a drink, dear Tom; I start-
'-"- cd so, 'I . '"!' .' ' - -
To s. e how much that I am changed, mcc twenty
. years : go. f V ; , ' ' :' '
. .' " " '' '.. " . . - '.
Xearhy.ihe. spring, upon an elm, you know, I cut
vour l aniCi ;
- Your Sweetheart' just below it, Tom, and you did
- . - uiine. the same, . ' ' ,
Some-li6ar 'less wretch had pealed the bark 'twas
. dvi: g SUTO lllt slow, ; " ' V !
: Jnst aV that one w hose name- was cut, died twenty
:J years ago. 1 j ' - : '
.'; ;': ' . ' .. .' ' !; i i .' . ' 1 - .
My li.isl.ave 'ong been dry Tom, but tears came m
: ? my I ves; -'.H' T " ' .. '" "
' I thought 'of her Ilo ed so well those early broken
.- ;'....- till' ' l
,1 visited the o'd church-yard, and took some flowers
iirady with his hand, and loosening the leather
strap' as if to eas:- himself, -he looked steadily at the.
A itian of ruffiauly appearance, who attended as
if he were a guard of the guillotine, came up to
'; '-Are ydu afraid," said he to Fontane, "that you
look iiVthis way at the national razor Cx
i "Afraid," said Fon-an e, "doivou take . me for a
! Federalist: that 1 should be frightened at the sight
'ot a guillotine T sacre bleu f Look at me ; do you
see aiivthing like an aristocrat in my face ? ' .
"What are you?" said a second inleirogator,
a.ldressing Fontane. j
.ir ii l " 1 ..''
i am a.oieaener anw seouier. . .
" Ami this good woman?" -
" What a question," said Fontane.' Look at
tliat little o.ne -dcra't you see the likeness Vivr
la R.'publique " ' ?
' " Ah i that's right !" said the miscreant, , "you re
a o-ood one. - Down with muscadins and aristocrat.
Vive la Repubtiquer iind Vive la Guillotine "
Fontane could not join in this sanguinary cry.
He saw his wife tremble, and look her hand. ;
"Come, wife," said he, "Jet us have a song.'!
" Ay, and a dance, too," said the barbarian who
had first spoken, "so, down with your basket, my
lnf I 1 1
LCome, friends, join' hands for the ring the patri-
j. oti d ince". - '
M'ine. Fontane now comprehended what her
! hu-baiid.m'eant. She trip ed lightly round the
riiio-. and . ioined in the chorus of the! Carmatrnole.
f VV h-n tfie ttaitcw.s over - .-t. t-nqrfg- W 1. . . . ? 'JaAir
Foiii.iin- was as-isred ill reobicinir bis oasket on bis
! siiouMer. He made his wife lead the way, and
walked o!f after her. whistling the Chant da depart
! And sti.thev escaped.
! ' f. I : -a- :
! Fvv Fri!n:. Here's her lat specimen of
pepper, salt 'and spice in the shape of language 'and
i leas : . . ..
" If your husband !ook grave,- let him alone ;
don't d.sturb or annony hiiii".'
O, p-haw I when I'm married, the soberer, my
husband look, d, the more fun I'd rattle at him
"Don't disturb "him ?" I guess so ! I'd salt
him, and "pepper his tea, and sugar his beef-teak,
and tread ou his toes, and hide his newspapers,
and put pins in his slippers and dip bis cigars in
water, and .1 w.ui'dn't stop for the Great Mogul, till
I had shortened his face' to my liking. Certainly
he' d ief vexed, there wouldn't be any fun in vex
. .& ... ... , i - . ii i i
i nig linn it he dula t, and that woiuu give nis nieiau-
c'.n-iy b! od .- go 1 healthful start, and his eyes
i would, snap and 'sparkle.- ami he'd say, " Fanny,
I .wi 1 yon be cpret or not i" and I . should laugh,
a d pull his whiskers, and say, " JVo7," and then
i 1 should tell him he hadn't the idea how handsome
"; he looked when he was vexed, and then he would
pretend not to hear the compliment but would
pull up his dickey, and t ike a sly peep in the glass
' for ail that : and then he'd begin to: grow amiable
I a'nd get off stills, and be just as agreeable all the
; rest of the evening as if "tie wasn't my husband, and
i all because I did not iollow that stupid bit of advice
j to let hi ni' a lone. Just imagine me, Fanny, sitting
1 lnvvn on a cricket in the corner, and mv forefinger
vv"- --- ----- - 1 " J J
in my inouth, looking out of the sides of my eyes,
and waiting till that man s'Ot ready to speak to me.
You see at onee it would be be Well the a
mount of it is, I shouldn't do it. Fanxy Ferx.
instantly perceived it
; " It seems to me, mamma, that
everv rich oerson milit be hannv if
J l c . 11-
they only would; but I presume
you are about to point me out to
the Smiths, wiio, are tne weaittuest
and still the most miserable ol all
our acquaintances. But really, my
dear mother if we were rich, don't
you think we should be very hap-
" I am very rich and happy too,"'
said Mrs. II. with a self-satisfied
air. "I know of none in the. world
ml) whom I would exchange pla
ces." Ella dropped her crotchet work
into her lap and looked with sur
prise into her mother's face.
" We! rich!" she exclaimed,
' Whv, Row do you-make tint out ?
Wouldn't you exchange places with
the Goldacres, who live in a per
fect palace, and who have hosts- of
servants, and who dress in si,ks and
satins every day ?"
" No: I would not exchange pla
ces with Mrs. Goldacre," said Mrs. II., for if I did
I should have to resign you and , Nelly and your
dear father, and my brave little Tommy, who is
sleeping so sweetly here in my lap.
""OhVldid not mean that at all," said Ella; "I
should share in it. WouM you not lie willing io
have papa take Mr. Goldacres and have him take
ours V v
Mrs. Harrison shook her head.
" Why not, mamma ? It seems to- me that you
are verv unreasonable."
" If we had their riches, my dear child," said Mrs.
II., "we might fall into sin, and sin' brings misery.
As I before told you, I already consider myself ve
ry Mch. 1 am rich in my health ; rich in my hus
band ; rich -in my children ; rich in my eottag
home, which our". industry has made tasteful and
comfortable ; I am rich in mental wealth, for we
have a irreat many valuable books and they have
been well read by us all. 1 am rich in the white
roses that clamber over the'walis yonder, and peep
with breaths of incense through the windows ; rich
in the golden sunshine ; rich in nature ; rich in the
calm thoughts which visit all, who, with thanklul,
contented hearts look upwards and say with the
" Praise to our Father God,
High praise in solemn lay,
Alikeor what his hand doth give,
And what it takes away "
" But if we had more," said Ella, " you would
have more to be thankful for."
'"I have all that my Heavenly Father has seen
i fit to give ine, and that is enough. Think of the
i poor in the back woods of B inda, about whom we
! have iust been reading in Mrs. Moodie's valuable
work those-who have little or nothing with , which
to supply the demands of hunger through those
interminable winters ; think of the thousands in
cities, who are stowed in cellars ami oaeh. looms
turns upon u marriage of convenience." In mkJi
anairs there are no tender glances, houi d words,
beating Ii earls, or otlu-r sijjus th:t Cupid has Wen
h4?tfcfc idvo-ui'd IxMotjpuii.. siil, nnd chivalrous
inanity iicvwiUMi uu tin? in.iici. 1 i:c ni'iu tio iixji, '
take the woman for his u wedded wife," but he
takes a .family alliance a union of titles an estate
within a ring fence or a seat for a borough. The
wjrann does not take, the man for lu r " wedded hts
bai.d ;" she accepts instead a portion in life a
carriage, a footman, the power to give good parties,
good pin money, and a large jointure. Another
sort of marriage of convenience is where some
withered toothless old satvrof a slippered pantaloon
i cats "sheep's eyes " at youth and comeliness, and
tempts her w'th jewels and niagnificejice. In this
j sort of January a id May alienees, parents are pop
! ularly supposed to play a very active part, repre
I senting the solid advantages of opulence and the
j fleeting j"ys of affection in invidi -us contrast ; in ne
j e-H'ciady if ihere is a voiing and p or lover that
I orre of ma'ch-makiiiir m-jth rs in the case.. The
arguments of the Scotch song are used,, and often
And ye. shall walk in silk attire,
And tiller ha' to s-pare,
If ye'll cuii-eiii to be my bride,
Nor thihk of Donald inair.
A quaint Yankee preacher once said that ladies
were timid : they were afraid to sing when they
were asked ; afraid of taking cold ;. afraid of snails
or spiders but he never knew one who was afraid
to be married. Possibly the sex will reject that
as a libel upon them, yet it certainly has a founda
tion in truth and nature. Marriage enters more
into the calu'.ati ns of women than men. It appears
a greater event in their lives. It rounds their
destiny. Men get independent without taking upon
themselves family cares. Women, till at least a
later period of life, continue to be dependents upon
the family circle, if single. There are exceptions,
but' that is mostly the case, and it is very natural
tlinr t.hev should wish to be suns in a system of
their own rather than minor satellite, of the paren
tal home. Besides, io the earnest and sincere-,
marriage is necessary, as tiie avenue to the htalthy
exercise of those-affections which go to make up
so much of woman's nature, and which are in other
conditions left to stagnate, often into disease. And
for the giddy, the vanity of being married is a suf
ficient inducement to look out tor a inatcn.
We will not insult the discerning reader by sup
.i . i i. , .1 ...4. u.-... ,.r i.
posing inai ne or sue uoes not mw
ed by those who, more or less selfishly, will net
many, and those who cannot and must not mar
ry what is to become of the female marriageable
j surplus thus created? Take the instance of the
i tradesman's daughters the tradesman in a small
way who may manage io keep his family while
I he lives, but not provide for them after his dea h;
! nf no h eiirati-R' dntiflrhfont hrnnnrht lin uiili enn A
i - . o -r
mental refiiicmeut; of the daughterKf .the ftrug
'g'wg ':jfMiMMUaajiia ntQ2tj$$vJtF$ to inako
both ends "meet. If they do not marry, whav is to '
become of them after the prop of thu house die ?
They cannot sponge on the scanty resources of
poor relations even if the poor relations are wil
ling if ihey have any sense of independence."
The governess market and the 44 companion " oc
cupation are already -overcrowded by poor, under
paid ladies. Their pride revolts from household,
service. The life of the needlewoman, with its
starvation ami exposure jto temptation, is the ave
nue to something worse. What must thev dc?
They must marry if they can. Weil, or what
the world calls well, if possible, if not, badly.
The necessity of choosing the lesser evil is strong
! upon them. "They must not dream of love. Tn y
! must stifle personal likes and dislikes. If they can-
;' i .ii-i . .i .
not eaten an estaoiisirmeni, rney must, at leusu
grasp at a home ; and for a hoiin o.'t n a poor
one thousands of women marry ; for a I o ne
even a poor one thousands more pi ie. it sv
sad sUte of things, but pity 'tis 'tis true.
So far from marriages of " convenience," then,
being confined to the upper classes of society, we
see that they run through the middle section ; and
if we go lower down we shall find the same caus
es and effects at work, j Lady Velvet, Miss Dimple
and Polly, the housemaid, are' equally desirous of
being settled in tne world, lhe reasons wiiy are
nearly the same in kind, though different in de
gree. They act with perhaps the most force on
the less cultivated world. At bottom the nature
is the same, spite of the" aristocratic languor of the
one, the "the accomplishments" of the second,
and the rough hands of the third. They- all want
to be married as well as possible, but at all events
to be married. - Thev desire more freedom from
domestic restraint a position of some kind in the
world, and a settled source from which will be sup
plied the wants of life in fact, an establishment."
Do you think Polly feels these .longings lees than
'.either, of her more refined compeers No indeed?
C' ' A L . . ' J.. 1..1. n lill
vi iart..j ce .t -ii,rw
fir stir is ii cuurstj uwairc Liiat 1.11c 111010
thing, the more desired, if not desirable', it becomes.
Now it is a fact, that for some years past, marriages
have been regularly decreasing in frequency, in
nrnrmrtion to trie numoers ot tne iemaie pon..iauon.
j - ----- &
We must not be suspected of j"king, or of: a ten
dency to satire, when we say that the disinclination
is not upon the side of the ladies. As we examine
the subject, that will turn out to be in their praise..
The hanging back is upon the part of the men, and
some of the motives are not iniuh to their credit,
because they are sHfi-h ones. A medical writer in
the Lancet has lately said tint it is to be ascribed
to' the progress of civilization, as the world becomes
more refined, men get more selfish. Tlu-y want to
" keep up appearances," and that costs something-.
They want ail they can get for themselves, 1 hey
must have good clothes, and jewelry, it k be only
mosaic, they must go to ine ineaue wuifuinw ,
and there are other con equent outlets for money
not. to be hinted at. They prefer these things, and
a so'itary two-pair back at Islington or Camberwell
to the cares and expenses of home. They say,
when they put on their hats that their family is
covered and other selfish things. A blooming
wife and laughing children are in their catalogue
not of comforts but of dangerous expenses. They
feel that marriage, isi a serious, ceremony in more
ways than one. It is not only an obligation to
love and honor, fcc, but to furnish a house and pay
bakers' bills. That, too, civilization has made more
difficult. The appearances to be kept up are more
:onerous than they used to be. The Jacks and Jills
of middle life are' not to-day what they were in the
times of our forefathers. They can no longer be-
-in life in two rooms, with wooden bottomed cha:rs,
nossib'v more. A "day out" is to her a little
paradise, and if she was married, she would have
evciy Sunday, at all events. Au hour's, relaxation,
-a mile bit of time to herself." as she says, be-
1 twee'ii six and seven in the morning, and any time
A singular duel (says Galignani,) took place
in the Bois de Boulogne. Two private' coach
men w ho had for some time past felt a deep root-
ed auimosuv towards eacn otner, anu never mei i . r. - - . . ..
without .ptarrelling, happened bv chance to meet a I living in mental and moral degradation ot winch
..A.....:..-.." , f.i.m.n;-i we can hard lv form anv conceDtion without liiolo
cities, wno are stoweu m i-'""""1' - -
and Arrets, and bat haunted places, who seldom , an oaken table, and a French be. 1 stead.
breathe the fresh air, or see glad sunshine think
... ... . i 1 ' ! .
ot the poor Irish who a snort wnue ago weie ski
ving to death, gasping with their dying breaths,
' Give me three grains of cot n Only three gra ins '
Think of. the millions in Africa and Asia, who are
. ., . i . i .
Ippon the graves of those we loved some twenty years v,inspn,pnoK0(iv nin away with your
basket; down with it, I say! WThy, what's the mat-
. . . . ,-. - i ii
Sotrc are ?n the ch'urch-yatd kill some sleep beneath'
the sei ; .;; ':'.' - : ''
' But few are left of our old class, excepting you and
' . V j , 1 - i
And when our time shad come, Tom, and when we're
called to go, - j
Phdpc they'll lay us where we played, jujst twenty
- -. 1 I
AMninvRSE Artist's Idea of BKALTv.4-Lhmnua
is called bv Europeans the Sir ThomasLawnnce
cou rse of
. ..9 -i .1.,-! Rnu. ti L.tr
Fontane obiected and resisted 'or a while, but
or, ' tn. snhmtt : and. wioiug the
. I 1 ' 1 .. . i. A. ... . -i
few evenings since at a wine shop, one of them said
." . ii. . i i.i
to the other, uur quarrelling lias l.istea too long;
it is time to put an end to it. .'Lt us have one. fight,
and let that be the last. We neither of us under
stand anything of sword or pistol, let us fight with
our whii'S." This propos tiou having been accept
ed, the parties repaired to the Bois, and accompa
nied by their seconds soon commenced the. com
bat A number of persons assembled to witness the
scene, which was continued with gieat animation,
when lhe keepers of the wood came upland
marched off the combatants to the guard-house.
One of the men had received a very serious woun 1
on .the face, and the other had one of his ears almost
Matrimonial' mode of proving Innocence,
The other dav Mrs. Sniff kins, 1 finding herself
, . .. ... . 1 !
' i unwell, sent tor the doctor, and declared ner oenej
. - . r i. n i w m i i ii ii ii r vjc.tM ; -
perspiration iron. hisbas. j that she was 'f,izened," and that he (Sniffkins) had
than alive, was relieved from the burtdiec his , Sniff;kin3.
k. He-saw it placed on a heap ot !" It's all gammon ; she isn't pizened. Prove it, doc
SSSSS t ? I SSS i -; r upon the spotI'm willing' ;
.i f.UlIv-Aiinor biniseU up and clann-
IVaSOIHUC Wllliviuv-.v 0 i I
incr compassion for his wife and child, in tue hope
:aneii ov liiupc.ina mo on j. iiumiis yjaummc j,hat they would be auoweu io puss, ....rr-vj
Dhinat'and he well deserves that proi d distinc- ,)Q rousj himself, clapped his hands and assumed
1, a the coloring of this artist's od-puu tings is :0VfufapecL -----edingl?
"fiui nUhough Ins ideas of female beau- j;h,.ii( J mv friend " cried one of the fellows,
ty d tier materially tro ,. ours. in tiie course of wonrful, 'merry at once." I
convUitivn we asked his opinion of ai English fur.w " . J i -d Fontane,"a
: belle then at Canton, and Oie reply wa.araetens- "A thought hasstuck f? j know the
"tfeof a. Chinaman's ideas of lemale bcty Her bold idea! ou see -r my
face is two round ; she has color hi her cheeks, her j Carrol a ways raises her spirits. y , J
-eves are too blue too large; she's fo tall, too I good fellows, let us dance it,
- Tuuixip yi vavy-JlieVface tajb, (irtetmihg her coun- j His wife gazed at him with a look of despair, as
' teuati;- was exn-Ssive,) ahd haslet so large tluit j henatched the child from her arms. , .
shYcan walk u .o then(. IrLumqua's itte her we, j " What now i doit make a wry Qo
sanahv porfrV.lW Wth of Europeans ail Chinese d.ev Excuse her, she's young and t,m d Come,
- i - . i i . ...i .,i. I i,.t i,.- nnf ti, tint, a,, ii.u i,ocL-bi thprelie lies.
v of -which-' were excellent .iiKenes, . .v- i--- - -y v f
ih deficient in ii-ht and- shade, were executed I on the top of the linen, and sleeps soundly. Wire,
n . i n . r.hlnexp.. vonr hand. Aow. the rinff the republican ring.
though- deneient in itgiix, ami- -r - - ---r . Ki
ia a most- masterly; manaer. China arid Chinese, your hand. , !Now, the nng-the repubhean Ting.
- - - . f j '. -.- ..'--' ' i ' " . - : ' -
Mrs. Partinri'ton is said to have anxiouslv asked if
TT i . rr ' 0 1 .... -L T-: 1 B:Li: I
uncie loin is a oeiter man man Hiiiocn, 01 omuiiu
memory. She grounds her reason for making this in
quiry, upon the fact that she heard that Uncle Tom
had been translated seven times while Enoch was
translated but once.
' ; "Bones," said Ginger, "Which had you rather
ridein a stage coach or steamboat ?''
u Why, I'd rather ride in a coach, bekase, if it
upsets, there you is; but if de steamboat blows up,
whar is you?"
' Hello, I say, what did you say your
moilliMnfk wnubl Clirn ?'
' Oh, it'll Cure everything heal any thing.'-
4 Ah, well, I'll take a bottle. Maybe it'll heel
my boots; they need it bad. enough.'
form nnv coneention without Bible
without civilization without any correct idea
i . w . . 1 . 1 1
ot Uod and Heaven.' contrast wun tnese nuunui
beings our own happy lot, and acknowledge your
self to- be deeply ungrateful. Instead of being
thankful for what you have, you murmur because
your portio: is not larger. Ycu did not order the
circumstances of your birth ; you might have been
on heathen ! ground, or amid the beggars of sur
feited Paris !oi London.'
"That is krue," said Ella ; I never thought of
44 My dear chi'd," said Mrs. Harrison, arising
and depositing her burden in the cradle, " our
happiness does not depend upon external circum
stances. It lies bevond them in a great degree, if
not altogether. But the world vs slow in learning
this fact Mnhiriidos think as vou do. that it 1
an attendant upon wealth upon fame upon
position in society; but if their wishes could be
gratified, they would doubtless, in almost all instan
ces, find that they had mistaken its nature entire
ly. It comes to those who with grateful hearts
take what their Father has appointed them, looking
Wntirl 1 i1 misf a on1 oli-jlrkvva of Time intOthe
w , vra.vi ill.- UIOV.1 Gtuvt a. w ,
clear sunlight of Eternity. It comes to those who
forget self, and look to the welfare of others who
scorn the wrong and adhere firmly to the right,
who bever weigh results in the nice scales of self
interest and worldly pridi it sits a guest at the
humblest board, if Heaven-born Charity presides.
vreorgia family vtxttor.
To Mak : Coffee. Ptit the ground coffee into
a wide mouthed bottle over night, and pour rather
more than half a pint of water upon each ounce
and a half ; cork, put the bottle into a pan of wa
ter and bring the water to a boiling heat ; the cof
fee is then to be poured off clear, and the latter
portion strained; that which is not drank immedi
ately is to be kept closely stopped, and healed as it
if wautedvaejCc American.
tablishment must spring up aseoniph teas Minerva
from the brain of Jove. The young lady has been
to boarding school and got " accomplishments ;M
the young gentleman has acquired ideas of d;giiny
They both stand in awe of that Mrs.'Llarris of pub
lic life, Mrs. Grundy. " What will she say s" To
satisfy her they must have, in addition to a 6iuig
parlor, a miniature drawing room with knick-knacks.
There must be gilding and glitter as well as solid
comfort. The young lady must not soil her deli
cate hands with household work. What! Mary
without a servant? Oh, horrid ! All their mam
mas, and half their marriageable daughters, would
put thir fingers iu their ears to stop out the horrid
sounds. Then dress makes greater demands than
of old. Pretliness can no longer consent to appear
inm-ints! sentiment has an affinity. to satin, and
love some mysterious connection with lace. Iieally
it. is no wonder that the men. what with the great
er selfidmess produced by civilization, and the in-
created requirements of matrimony, are cautious of
enter hg into that state. If ladies must have estab- ,
HJiments to start with and that is UHoues ionably
the rage now why they must marry them instead
of men. They must not look for glossy locks and
blight eyes for the possessors of these attractions
have not yet had time to make little fortunes. They
must turn to grey hair and wrinkles, which have
been successful and they are both few and' cau
tious ; so that what with the limits set "by woman,
and the coldness of the men, marrying " respecta
bly " has become difficult, and the scarcity of " good
matches" makes it quite natural that there should
Ut3 euiaixiuic mji csiauiiuiuvuw.
This is only half the truth. Besides the men
ho will not marry from selfish, or, if you please,
prudential (that is the prettier term) motives, there
are others who cannot marry. The monasteries of
other times made a great many celibates, but the.
commercial celibacy of the present is far more ex
tensive. There are more linen-drapers' shopmen
and milliners' apprentices and workmen alone, to
say nothing of other classes than there were monks
and nuns in the " merry days of yore." They do
not take vows not to marry, it is true, but they
are bound to solitariness by necessity under awtul
penalties. ' .
Tue male-marrying circle being thus circumscrib-
one of the uf tje Ilesperides. If she was married she wou'd
Stm 'r 1 ' u 7a,uw?'kt-!ilaviif'
ire aifficutfa i-nThlnonrefuturerose
She at present rejoices in her magnificent income
of 8 a year, "without tea and sugar." She finds
it hard enough to make it do.
When she has had the necessary quantity of
gowns, bonnets, and other indispensables, and gone
through her holidays, which of course cost some
t,igshe has not many left. She knows, if she
'cannot succeed iii driving thought away, that she
must grow old by -and by, iind then the stupendous
8 a year will fail even if she cannot continue to
command that while young. What is she to do ?
Of course, she, like her bettersmust marry. She
does not expect a carriage or a drawing room. She
can put up with two rooms, or even one ; and
wooden chairs,, oak table, and French bed-stead
will do. The bakei's and the butcher's man can
command that. Or K, 1024, who looks down the
area, can manage it, unless, as Polly says "he's a
supernumery, and they keeps them in barracks."
Mr. Timothy Pipeclay, the soldier, can get her the
washinor of his company, and contrive a home
somehow. We are c nvinc d that the marriages
of servants, those which are not the result of ut
teily thoughtless, reckless impulse, mostly arise in
this way f and of their results we need not say
mnnli well understood as thev are.
From the highest to the lowest, there are thou
sands who marry, establishments. : Some of all
grajesf,om the princely mansion to the confined
attic, are taken " for better, for worse. 1 Some
obey custom, some ar.' pressed by necessity v some
-act from choice. Habit, vanity and want, and ith e
fear of want, are always at woik. Thye are the
private wrongs of selfishness and ambition, and the
i i e . u .1.. . - , ,iii. ttl-i.H in the
cireaci oi not ceiiig--aoic to ju. ,v ...
world to contribute their help to the system. S
cial evils there are, too. to strengthen it. The de
pendence of women their want of the mean of
earning a subsistence by honorable employment,
which makes that dependence more galling-Jiho
haste to be rich upon the part of the men rthe
commercial celibacy to which we have alluded; are
among the foremost. All conspire to produce a
want of moral tone to root out high feehng--to
turn passag s which will exist into an illegitimate
direction to nourish error and suffering. JThe
remedies are a better mental and moral training
for the mass, and a wider and mote real prosperity.
In fact, education and abundant and well paid la
bor are the only things to substitute mariiages of
men and women for scrambles for establishment.
Tho editor of the Foxtowh Fusilier must be a very
happy man about this time. In his last number
rI .. , WT nnl With .
he says :- 1 ostsenpt v oiup w
jileasure to announce the decease of our rontempo-
rary, Mr. anaggs, cuitui iv-..
pr and 'better world.
lie ii now jv.uvi .
Success to him. ' Person who have taken tne
Flash, will find the fusilier a good paper.
An old toper who lately attended an exhibition
where a learned professor caused several explosion
to take place among gases produced 'from water,
said " You don't catch me putting much water
in my liquor after this ; I had no idea before, that
water was so dangerous, though I never hked to
take much of it " i
, MOORE'8 OpmOH OF OHN
30, 1822. Laid in some co.u u c .
went to the House of Common ; avenues all bjock
ed up w'uh unsuccessful candidates for admission.
. . r i t nA at last irivinff it on in
After several repuia, , Vn.
despair, was taken in by ."8U " one of the
Catholics on his-list, Mr. Blunt. Sat next Lord
Limerick, and Randolph, the famous American or
ator a singular looking j man, with a young old
face, and a short small body, mounted upon a pair
of high crane legs and-thighs, so that when he
stood up, you did not know when he was tp tnd,
and squeaking voice like a boy's just before break
ing into manhood. His manner, too, strange and
pedantic, but his power of eloquence (Irving tells
- - i '