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THE Will h* puotiskederery SATURDAY Morning, In the Two-Story Wooden Building, at the Corner of Walnut and Fifth Street, IK THE CITE OF MACON, GA. UY WM. It. IIA Kit ISO Y. TER M S 7 For tin Piper, in advance, per annum, $2. if not paid in advance, |3 50, per annum. If not p»ld until the end of the Year .$3 00 - AJvortisimonts will bo inserted at the usual —and when the number of insertions de sired is not spaeitied, they will be continued un til forbid and charged accordingly. (£7*Advertisers by the Year will be contracted with upon the most favorablo terms. (□’Sales of Land by Administrators, Executors or Guardians, are required by Law, to be held on the first Tuesday in the month, between the hours of ten o'clock in the Forenoon and three in the Af t :rn ion, at the Court House of the county in which the Property is situate. Notice of these Sales must bj given in a public gazette sixty days previous to the day of sale. Kj’S iler of N'ejroos by Administators. Execu tors or Guardians, must be at Public Auction, on the first Tuesday in the month, between the legal h >urs of sale, before the Court House of the county where the Letters Testamentary, or Administration or Guardianship may h ive been granted, first giv ing notice thereof for sixty r> v vs, in one ofthe pub lic gazettes of this State, and at the door of the l', irt House where such sales are to he held. ipj*Notice for the saleof Personal Property must jH ,given in like manner forty days previous to t j,e day of sale. •j* Notice to the Debtors and Creditorsofan Es tlt3 mut be published for forty days. xj >tice that application will be made to the Ojurt of Ordinirv for leave to sell Land or Ne irrui mut be published in a public gazette in this Sate for rocs months, before any order absolute c a ibe given by the Court. FjV'i r atioxs for Letters of Administration on a;i Estate, granted by the Court of Ordinary, must he published thirty days - for Letters of Dismis sion from the a I ministration ofan Estate, monthly fii' six months —for Dismission from Guardian hip FORTY DAYS. tj-Hui.f.s for the foreclosure of a Mortgage, must be published monthly for four months — for establishing lost Papers, for the full space of three months —for compelling Titles from Ex ecutors, Administrators or others, where a Bond has been given by the deceased, the full space ot three months. N. B. All Business of this kind shall rneciv prompt attention at the SOUTHERN MUSEUM (Elite, an 1 strict care will he taken that all legal Advertisements are published according to Law. O’AII Letters directed to this Office or the Editor on business, must be post-paid, to in sure afention. /T ii 0 C t V J> . Advice to louiit; Ladies. Detest disgust ; remember tis your part, By gentle fondness to retain the heart. Let duty, prudence, virtue take the lead, To lix your choice ;—but from it ne’er recede. Despise coquetry ; spurn the shallow fool, Who measures out dull compliments by rule, And without meaning, like a oliatt'ring Jay, Repeats the same dull strain throughout the day. Are men of sense attracted by your fare ? Your well.turn'd figure,or their compound grace? Be mild and equal, moderately gay, Your judgment rather than your wit display. Bv aiming at good breeding, strive to please, 'Tisnothing morn than regulated vo-e. Does one dear youth among a worthy train, The best affection of your heart obtain ? And is lie reckoned worthy of your rlioice ? Is your opinion with the general voice? Confess it then, nor from him seek to hide, What's known to overy person e'se beside ; Attach him to yon, —in a gen'rotis mind, A lively gratitude expect to find : Receive his vows, and by a kind return, Affection's blaze will ever brighter burn. Disdain duplicity, from pride be free ; What every woman should,you then will be. One of the Weddings.—A Connubial S ketch. A few ilays ago, there arrived, at a hotel in Boston, a couple from Rhode Island, who came to get joined, quietly, in the bonds of matrimony. As soon as they were fairly domiciliated, the would-be bride-groom—who was a rough, but ap parently honest specimen of the country Yankee—sent for the proprietor of the hotel, who quickly answered his sum mons. ‘ Say lan’lord,’ proposed the stranger, pointing to his modest dulcinea, in the corner of the parlor, ‘ this is my young 'unman. Naow we’ve cum all tho way from R'ode Island, and we want to be spliced. Send fora m'nister, willyer? Want it dun up, tile strait oil’.’ The landlord smiled and went out, and half an hour afterward a licensed minister made his appearance, and the obliging host, with one or two waggish friends, w «ve called in, as witnesses to the * scene.’ ‘Naow, Mr. Higgins,’said the Yankee, 'Jeu it up brown, and yurc money's rea dy >’ and forthwith the reverend gentle man commenced by directing the parties to join their hands. The Yankee stood ’ip to his blushing lady love, like a sick kitten hugging a hot brick, seized her hand, and was as much pleased as a rac cnon might bo supposed to be with two 'ails. Vou promise, Mr. A.,’ said the parson, t"take this woman— 1 ‘ \aas.’ ‘aid the Yankee, at once. h> be your lawful and wedded wife.’ \V las —yttas.' ‘ I bat you will love and boner her, in al ' tilings. ’ * Yaas.’ I bat you will cling to her. and her on S so long as you both shall live.’ t aas ’ndeed—nothin’else !’continued ’ lO ankee, in the most delighted and e irnest manuc ; but here the reverend c e, Syman halted, much to the surprise of THE SOUTHERN MUSEUM. VOLUME II all present, and more especially to the an noyance and discomfiture of the intended bridegroom. \ uas—yaas, I said,’ added the Yan kee. ‘One moment, my friend,’ responded the minister, slowly, tor it suddenly occur red to him that the law of Massachusetts did not permit of this performance, with out the observance of a ‘ publishment,’ etc , for a certain length of time. ‘ \\ ot n thunder's the matter, mister? Doan't stop —go on—put ’er tiireu. Nothin’s split, ei’7? Ain’t sick, mister, be yet ?’ ‘Just at this moment, my friend, I have thought that you can’t be married in Mas sachusetts —’ ' Can’t! wot ’n natur’s the reason ? 1 like her, and she likes me: wot’s to ben der ?’ * 011 hav’ntbeeu published,sir, 1 think.’ llaiiU a goin’ to be, nuther! ’at’s wot we cum 'ere for. On the sly: go on—<ro on, old feller.’ I really sir—' said the parson. ‘ Railly ! \\ al, go ahead ! ’Taint fair, you see, ’tain', 1 sivaoiv; you’ve a married me, and a liairit teched her. Go on —do n't stop ’ere? ’at aint jes’ the the thing, naow, by grashus taint!’ ‘ l will consult— ’ No yen wont —no yeu don’t—consult nothing, nor nobuddy, till this ’ere busi ness is concleuded, naow mind I tell ye!’ saiil Jonathan, resolutely—and in an in stant ho had lui nod the key in, and out of the lock, amid the titterings of the ‘wit nesses,’ who were nearly choked with men imen!! ‘ Naow say, mister, as we ware—’ con tinued the \ ankee, seizing his trembling intended by the hand again—‘ go on, rile strait from ware yeu left off; yeu can’t cum nun o’ this hnaf-way bis’ness with this child ; so put 'er threu, and no dodging It’ll all be right—go it!’ 1 lie parson reflected a moment, and c< nclnding to risk it, continued— ‘ \ mi promise, madam, to take this man to he your lawful husband ?’ ‘ \ aas,’ said the \ ankee, as the lady bowed. ‘ I bat you wd; love honor and obey —’ ‘ Them’s um !’ said Jonathan, as the lady bowed again. ‘And that you will cling to him, so long as you both shall live V 1 That's the talk !’ said John ; and the lady said ‘yes,’again. ‘ Then, in the presence of these witnes ses, I pronounce you man and wife—’ ‘ Hoorah !’ shouted Jonathan, leaning nearly to the ceiling, with joy. ‘And what God hath joined together, let not man put asunder!’ ‘ Hoorah !' continued John. ‘ Wot’s ihe price ? —haow much ? spit it aout —don't be afeard—yeu did it jes’ like a booh, old feller ! —’eres a\ —never mind the change —sen’ for a hack, lan'lord give us yeur bill—l’ve got her!—Hail Columby, hap py land!” roared the poor fellow, entirely unable to control his joy ; and ten minutes afterward, he was on way again to the Providence depot, with his wfe, the hap piest man out of jail. We heard the details of the above scene from an eye-witness of the ceremony, and we could not avoid putting it down as “one of the weddings.” Am Arab Retort.— ‘ Why do yon not thank God,’ asked Mansur of an Arab, ‘ ihat, since I have been your ruler, you have been afflicted with the plaugeT ‘God is too good to send two scourges upon us at once,’ was the reply, hut it cost tlie speaker his life. A Modest Lady. —A would-be modest lady pulled the sleeves of her undergar ment over her wrist when a physician was about feeling her pulse.—The doctor took the corner of his coat and laid it upon his patient’s arm. saying “ a linen pulscshould have a woolen physician.” 03~“ Those writers are fatiguing in the ' extreme who attempt to say everything that can possibly bs said upon a subject— who write as if they thought their readers knew nothing, and they everything.’ frT7 c ' Y hat is the difference between Noah’s Aik and Joan of Arc? One was made of Gopher wood the other Maid of Orleans. tifiT" As gold which he cannot spend will mako no man rich, so knowledge which he cannot apply will make no man wise. gC7~" Richter says: ‘No man enti either live piously or die righteously without a wife.’—A very wicked old hlachelor of our acquaintance says to this : ‘O, yes sufferings and severe trials purify and chasten tlie heart.’ f>i '?-> “What shall I lielp you to?’ in quired (be daught r of’ a landlady, of a modest youth, at the dinner table. ‘‘.4 wife' was the meek reply. The voting lady blushed, perhaps indignantly, and it is said that the offices of a neighbor ing clergyman were rerjuisi e to reconcile die parties. |Cjo It is ve v interesting to see two persons get into a passion and scold half an ho r and then discover that ihe whole quarrel arose from a mistake, and that neither of them knows what he has been talking about. JACUN, (GA-.) SATURDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 1, 1549. Ah Old Raid’s Soliloquy. ’Tis wondrous strange how great the change, Since I was in my teens, Then I had beaux and billet-doux, And joined the gayest scenes. But lovers now have ceased to vow ; No way they now contrive To poison, hang or drown themselves— Because I’m twenty-five. Once, if the night was e'er so bright, I ne'er abroad could roam, \\ ithout—“The bliss, the honor, Miss, Os seeing you safe home.” j Bat now I go, through rain and snow— Pursued and scarce alive 1 hrough all the dark, without a Because I’m twenty-five. They used to call, and ask me all About my health so frail, And thought a ride would help my side And turn my cheeks less pale. But now, alas ! if I am ill, None care that I revive, And mj pale cheek, in vain may speak, Bccaugc I'in twenty-five | Abu-, if a ride improves nry side, I’m forced to take the stage, For that is deemed quite proper for A person of my age. And then no hand is offered me, To help me out alive— -1 hey think ’tvvont hurt me now to fall, Because I'm twenty-five. Odcar ’tis queer, that every year, I'm slighted more and more ; For not a beau pretends to show His head within our door, Nor ride, nor card, nor soft address, My spirits now revive— And one might near as well be dead, As say— l'm twenty-fire. A Humorist. — The duke of Montague was a great lmmoi ist. Among other ori ginal modes in which he contrived to min ister to his own amusement, lie had a de fective looking-glasssuspended in iiis draw ing room ; so that all the noble guests who chanced to dine at Montague House, were induced, on passing the treacherous mir ror, to adjust their wigs awry. In that day a full-dressed wig, was as essential as a lull-dressed coat; arid his grace’s dinner table commonly presented an assemblage of noble lords with their perukes dragged down into the right eye, each wondering at nis neighbor’s disorderly appearance, and congratulating himself that in settling his own wig in the thawing room, he hail escaped from the absurdity of disfiguring the rest of the company. Elegant Compliments.—Notwithstan ding Quin’s rugged disposition and cyni cal turn, lie was distinguished for his at tachment to the society of ladies. One evening, when some Indies were present, tlie conversation turned upon the doctrine of Pythagoras.—Quia remained silent. One ofthe parly, remarkable for (lie white ness of her neck, asked Qin his opinion. ‘Do you believe in the transmigration of souls, Mr. Quiii ?’ ‘Oh, yes, madam.’ ‘And pray, may I inquire, what crea ture’s form you would likely hereafter to inhabit ? A fly’s, madam. A fly’s ? Yes, that I might have the pleasure at some future day of resting on your lady ship’s neck. On another occasion, being asked by a lady why it was reported that there were more women in the world than men ? he replied— It is in conformity with the arrange ments of nature, madam ; we always see more of Heaven than of earth. Forgetfulness of God. —As soon as the sense of a Supreme Being is lost, the great check is taken off, which keeps un der restraint the passions of men. Mean desires and low pleasures take place of j the greater and nobler sentiments which 1 reason and religion inspire. Amidst the tumult of “tlie wine arid the feast.” all pro ! per views of human life are forgotten ; tlie duties which as men, they have to perform the part they have to act in the world, and the distresses to which they are exposing themselves, are banished from their thoughts. “To-morrow shall he a3 this day, and more abundantly,” is the only voice. Inflamed by society, and citcula ted from one loose companion to another, the spirit of riot grows and swells, till it ends in brutal excess.— Blair. Getting ms name Up. — I say, Mister Highflyer, won’t you let a feller go up with you in thnt’ere balloon ? I could not accomodate you, my dear riend. Well, then, he kind enough to take my card along ; for I’m determined to get my 1 name up, somehow or other. OP The rose is sweet when it first opens, and the spinkenard when it dies. Beauty belongs to youth and dies with it, but the door of piety survives dea h and perfumes the tomb. i fry* When you have lost your money in the street every one is ready to help y<>u look for it ; but when you have fi st your character, everebody leaves you to recov | er it as you can. Europe— lts Races. T he present races of Europe, divided by what is now the philosophical rule— the roots of language—and connected also with their origin, are divided into three families, namely, the Latin, or Romanic; the Teutonic, nr Germans; and the Scla vonic—under which may also he classed the hnne —a distinct classintlie North.— So also in the Latin class might he inclu ded the remains of Celts in Ireland, and of the Iberians in Spain. But, without going into minor distinctions, of more an cient date, the present nations of Europe may properly be divided into llnee clas ses, Romanic, Teutonic, and Sclavonic. Between these three races, it must be borne in mind, there is neither affinity nor sympathy. The division by nations is as follows : Romanic race. France, inhabitants, 34,500,000 Spain, do 14,000,000 Portugal, do 4,000.000 Italy, do 22,500,000 Latin Race, 75,000,000 1 he languages spoken by these people arc all consanguineous, and they, in fact, const it u'cd almost the whole available por tions of the Roman Empire, when over run by the Northern Sclavones and allies. THE TEUTONIC RACE. The Teutonic race are chiefly the Ger man and English—-though Mnltc Brun places the Scandinavians among them, i lie present English being chiefly Anglo- Saxon, are of that race ; hut the Irish are of another race, the Celts. The Teuto nic nations may be thus set down : Part of Russia, 8,000,000 Part of Austria, 6,000,000 Part of Belgium, 2,000,000 Germany proper, 16,000,000 Part of Switzerland, 1,000,000 Holland, 2,000,000 Part of Denmark, 600,000 English, 18,000,000 Teutonic Race, 54,000,000 We have left out smaller tribes and na tions; hot this makes the hulk of the real Teutonic family. Their language is more nr less kindred, and their origin the same. SCLAVONIC RACE. These races inhabit the North and East of Europe, spreading into Asia. They probably occupy more of the surface of the eartli than any other race of men.— The nations are as follows : Part of Austria, 15,000,000 Part of Prussia, 2,000,000 Russia, 50,000,000 Sclavonic. Race, 67,000,000 We have left out the Scandinavians of Denmark, Sweden, and Norway; also the Turks, the Greeks, &c., as not distinctly belonging to either of the great races of Europe. They all, however, assimilate more to the Sclavones than either of the others. Os ihe three great races, the Slcavonic, hardly known in history till within two centuries, arc the most powerful in posi tive strength of natural resources, hut in ferior in art and culture. In the last par ticulars, the Teutonic is far superior to either the Latin or the Sclavonic. O tT He was a man of sense who wrote the following, and if we knew who it was we shouldn't consider it “confidential” exactly: “ A man strikes me with a sword and inflicts a wound. Suppose, in stead of binding up the wound, I am show ing ft to every body ; and after it lias been bound up, l am taking off tho bandage continually, and examing the depth of the wound, and making it to fester till my limb becomes gren’ly inflamed, and my general system is matetially affected; is there a person in the world not to call me a fool ? Now such a fool is he, who, by dwelling upon little injuries or insults, or provoca cations, cause them to agitate or inflame the mind. How much better were it to put a bandage over the wound and never look at it again.” Taking away a Name. —Some person j whom Quin had offended met hint one day ! in the street, and stopped him. ‘Mr. Quin,’ said he, ‘I—I—I under-! stand you have been taking away my name.’ 1 What have I said, sir V ‘You—you—Vuu called me a sconrr- j drel, sir.’ 4 Oh! then keep your name,sir,’ replied Quin, and walked on. Humility.' —Of all trees, I observe that God hath chosen the vine, a low plant that creeps upon the helpful wall; of all fowls the mild and gentle dove. When GoJ ap peared to Moses it was not in the lofty cedar, nor in the sturdy oak, nor the spreading palm, but in a bush.—As if lie would by these objections, check the ar rogance of man. Nothing procureth loVe like humility ; nothing hate like pride. A Modern Cannibal. —‘ Do you see that fellow lounging there,doing nothing?’ said Owens to.Jenks theotherday. ‘ How does he live ? By his wits V ‘ Oh, no ; lie’s a cannibal! *A cannibal!’ ‘\es, a cannibal— he lives on other pioplc /’ JC7* A gentleman taking an apartment, said to llie landlady, 1 assure yon madam I never left a lodging but my landlady Bbed tears.’ ‘I hope, sir,’ said she, ‘it was not because you went away without paying.’ Tiirilling Incident. —Professor Hitch cock, in a letter to the Amherst Express, from Virginia, describing some ofthe coal mines in that State, relates the following thrilling incident : “A hunter, one autumal evening eager ly following in the chase, found himself sliding down into an abandoned coalpit ; hut seizing upon tlie top of a bush as he slipped down the craggy sides, he hung dangling in the air over the gulf, and felt conscious, from his knowledge ofthe place that if he fell he must drop at least two hundred feet and be dashed t > pieces on the rocks beneath. He snuggled in vain to regain a foothold. T-Ie heard the cry of his fellow hunters and of the hounds os they bounded past, lie shouted with all Ids might, and the forest returned tlie echo, but no voice of rescue came with it. The winds whistled around him, and the moon his face, but they b:ought no relief. His strength rapidly failed ; he thought itr agony of his family and fronds, out he must die an awful death, and even j his mangled body never ho discovered, j His mind became bewildered, his muscles ! gave out, and down he went—down— j down—swifter, nor struck the bottom till! he had reached the enormous depth of— j six inches !” Natot eonon Suicide. —ln the journal of Dr. Warden, English Surgeon on hoard the Northumberland frigate, which con veyed Bonapart to St. Helena, we find recorded the following remarkable senti ments ofthe imperial prisoner, as express ed to Warden. ‘ln one paper Tam callad a liar, in one a tyrant, in a third a monster, and in one of them, which 1 really did not expect, I am described as a coward ; but it turned out, after all, that tlie writer did not accuse I me of avoididg danger in the field of battle, or flying from an enemy, or fearing to look at tlie menaces of fate and fortune ; he did not charge me wanting presence of mind in the field of battle, and in the suspense of conflicting armies—no such thing. 1 wanted courage, it seems, because I did not coolly take a dose of poison or throw myself into the sea, or blow out my brains. '1 lie editor most certainly misunderstands me ; l have at least too much courage for that.! On another occasion, he expressed himself on suicide, in the following terms : ‘Suicide is a crime the most revolting to my feelings ; nor does any reason suggest itself to my understanding, by which if can bejuslified. It certainly originates in that species of fear which wo denominate pol troonery. For what claim can that man have to courage, who trembles at the frowns of fortune 1 True heroism consists in being superior to the ills of life, in what ever shape they may challenge him to tlie combat.’ Fun at the expense of Judges and Counsel. — The Richmond Republican gives the following actual occurrence in a Virginia court lately, in the trial of Cng zeil for kidnapping. It is a most ludicrous instance of the manner in which the time of com is is wasted : “A witness (Miss Sloan) was under ex amination, and it became very importan, to know what another person had said to her upon the subject matter in dispute. The ques'ion was therefore propounded: “What did Mary say to you?” There upon, the opposite counsel rose very much excited, and slated his objections in a speech of about an hour long, to which the other replied in one of almost the same length. Then the Judges consulted together, and in a very learned and pompous manner, one of them slated the reason for consul- \ ering it a very proper question, which j must he answered. The greatest excite- j merit was manifested by the audience, and ! a solemn silence was observed as the coun sel repeated tlie question, “What did .Mary I say 1” To which the witness quietly re plied.—“ She didn't say a word /” A Tough Jon.— A fellow writing from somewhere out West, says—“Wo started for some little town in the vicinity of Hols tein ; l would not undertake to spell or pronounce the name ; but if you will take Ivickapoo and Ojibbeway, mix them up with Ompompanosuc and Passimaqnoddy, End pronounce the whole backwardy, yon will get within about six miles ofthe name.” Reverence for Age. —How beautiful it is to see the young reverence old age ! Wo never see a little hoy bowing respect fully to an aged man in the street but we feel sure he is a good boy. “Reverence is always due to aged people. Good na ture and a proper education, say to the young —Reverence old age. Grey hairs are a crown of glory, when found in the way of righteousness. The promptings of our kindly nature teach, us to respect the aged, to rise up before the hoary head. The eye, the furrowed brow and temples thinly clad who would not respect, rev erence, and love them.’ Begin Right. —Are you just stepping on the thershold of life ? Secure a good moral character. Without virtue you can not be respected ; without integrity you Can never rise to distinction and honor. You are poor perhaps. No matter ; pov erty is oftener a blessing than a curse. | L >ok at the young man who is heir to half a million. What vs his standing? Os what use is he to the world? You must make yourself. BOOK AND JOB PRINTING, Will be executed in the most approved sty' t and on tie best terms,at the Office of the scttthep.it mtjsettm -BY— WM. B. HARRISON. NUMBER 1 The Prayer. BY ENNA. Sunrise was not yet gilding the glitter ing dew drops upon the tendrils of tl te vine, the sweet odours ofthe deep, choral tubes of the woodbine, stole softly to the couch of the sleeping *»ill, and the note of her own crumb-fed bird was bidding her come forth and look upon the young hudg« which the gentle softness of the night had brought into maturity. It was a morning oftranquil loveliness, tlie misty vapour was curling and dissipating upon the hill-side —the dark, deep pond lay unrippled at the i foot, while the red and purple clouds were rising higher atul higher and higher above i the tall trees, as the glorious king of the morning sent forth Ids heralds to proclaim Ids coming. The air was vocal with the early matin, the cock with his shrill cla rion marshaled his barn-yard train, the robin piped his lay, and the lark soared as if to greet the majesty of day-spring. The cot of Helen Lee was fur np in a quiet glen, and no sounds, save those of I labor, had ever troubled the feathery and bl ight company among tlie great branches of the old wood—little robins had built | their nests in familiar places about the : mossy eaves, and the fish hawks cradled ; theiryoung in tlie pines ; beneath the grape natural drapery formed the sweetest bow j cr.nnd hung its rich fruit quite in tlie little i window of the maiden’s bed-chamber. She arose, and quickly arranging the toilet where vanity had no voice,noislcssly threw open the lattice that had shutout her little w inged songster, and, in the companion ship of nature’s ministers, held commun ion with her God. Tlie little bird, who had so jealously disturbed the slumbers of the early dawn, had flitted upon her shoulder, and, softly folding its wings, stilled its notes as the voice cf sincerity lay its small offering cf gratitude upon the altar which no eye hath seen. Lovingly the words of our Saviour fell from the lips of the gentle girl, as she said “Our Father”—and the simple neighbors, be yond the rude crossings of the dark pond, were embraced in the feeling of Helen as she spoke for all—for all wete of one family in the singleness of her pure spirit, and God was their Father. And, although t lie beauty which grew about her daily walks would make her feel that the earth* with its sunshine and flowers, were a throne fitting the Eternal, still she felt that lie was encompassed by a greater glory, such ns is “ in Heaven ;” ami for the good which she enjoyed in her peaceful home, and for the content of a happy spirit, she uttered, from the depths of holiness, “ hal lowed he thy name.” When the duties of her domestic cares were accomplished, the smooth cape and bonnet were loosened from their hiding place, and, with a small store for the needy, she would trip over the soft grass, and entering the door of dis tress, her actions spoke what her morning orisons now breathed, “ Thy kingdom come ;” but if the sorrowing soul uttered words of despair, she would twine her arms winningly about the sufferer, and, drawing tlie small volume from her bo som, she would open to the words “Thy will be done in Earth as it is in Heaven ;” and thns soothing the broken-hearted. The luxuries coveted by the great had never reached the hoard where sat the aged Patriarch gracing the meal as with u crown of silver, yet, as the sweet loaf was laid beside tlie tray, they bowed their head in acknowledgement, that from on high “ was given their daily bread.*’ A reproof from a sinless conscience, even ivaited upon the day, which set its sun upon a supposed duty unperformed, and earnestly did this pure girl pray “to be forgiven the debt she had neglected to pay, ” as she fervently forgave those who had remained “ her debtorsthe paths of temptation had never crossed her way, hut the hope that she might never he “ led therein” was the hope of one who, knowing not “evil,” still feared it, atul sought a constant de liverance from it; and tlie petition was in the belief always, that he whom she ap proached was Lord overall “in the king dom,” with “ Power and Glory,” and that “ for ever.” Arid this day, as the bird still rested on her shoulder, the dim woods seemed a fitting temple for tbo Anthem, and the whispering of the leaves, stirred by the early breeze with the melody of the choir, whose notes God has set, was the natural “Amen”—to tlie Maiden’s Prayer. Rincino in the Ears. —Mrs. Parting ton’s niece complained one morning of a ringing iti her ears. “It must he owing to the guitar in your head, dear,” said the old lady ; she knew every sort of human ail ment, and was like the Down East doc tor, was death on fits. “I know what ring ing in the ears is,” continued she ; “for my ears used to ring so bad, sometimes, as to wake Paul out of his sleep, thinking it was an alarm of fire!” There was no doubt she was telling what was true, but there were some that questioned it in a gentle cough. We hav’nt a doubt of its truth. Men are like bugles : the more brass they contain the further you can her them. Ladies are like violets, the moae modest and retiring they appear the belter you lave (hem. In a Nut shell. —Some descendant of Solomon has wisely remarked that those who go to law {oxdamages are sure to get them,