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- £ WiV-tef'r: OihUXmT :r J A ,Vl ‘(r !M j jjx v&mw um±d ] h'& imikliMim T H SEALS. ) J- - 11 ,■ eoiTm.s. r A. STEED. S u;\l SERIES. lOL l. TIE TEMPERANCE BANNER, !FT , svEß r -.amiuiv kxckpt rwo in thh ykah, j BY JOHN H. SEALS. (S j >M'H Suva cirsiiUtlec, vSti'h U daily m- j , : ,j|- io tAcoaw Ihe ino*t populir paper In the offerswit'. :onflrtn<-<.’, (o-vtng to it* rircaUtlbo bc * , ,!) 10 M-rchants, Mechanic*, &n1 Professional nr, “i)Vr.linSlN<> MEDIUM through which their basin**-** mag , ~ ,tid in *hi* ami adjoining tilater. TURMo OF SUJIfCRiPTIOh , ;H.-r inn-rm. if paid in advance. ~ .. > ;; not paid within ala • • .. •• 11 not paid until the end of the gw.. T I’R Mrl OK AOVEHTISIVG. ir . relpht lines -r lesr.i first insertion, . ..4 1 t*oi continuance, ®® | • ;al 0’ Business Cards, not exceeding C itnes, pr yr JOO j al’AMilVli AUV ERTISEMKNTrt. ■ three months, without alteration, <0 00 .j, •• altered quarterly, TOO *t ** *’ 00 M “,; rP ’ e •* .SI Ot* .1 •• SO 00 adrcnisemcrits not raarsed with the number of ir.eertlor. t, COlH inueii until forbid, and charged accordingly. ‘."vVMer -Hants, Druggists, and others, may contract for adver by to,- year, on reasonable terms. TBE RAIN. B V tv . C„ BUHSSTT. ; ■a) gentle, gentio sunmter rain, Let not the silver lily pine, The drooping lily pine in tairt To fee! that dewy touch of thine, To drink thy freshness once again: O gentle, gentle summer rain! In that landscape quivering lies; The cattle punt beneath the tree; Through parching air and purple skies, ■* The earth looks up in vain, for thee; For thee—for thee, it looks in vain, O gentle, gentle summer rain! Come, then, and brim the meadows streams, And soften all the hills with mist, 0 failing dew; from burning dreams By thee shall herb and dowers be kissed, And earth shall bless thee yet again, * ( gentle, gentle summei rain!” NOTHING IS I (IST. Nothing is lost: the drop of dew Which trembles on the leaf or flower Is but exhaled, to fall anew In Rummer’s thunder shower; Perchance to shine within the bow That fronts the sun at full of day; Perchance to sparkle in the flow Os fountains far away. Nothing is lost: tin: tiniest seed By wild birds borne, or breezes blown, Finds something suited to its need, - Wherein ‘vis sow n mvl grown. The language of some household song, The perfume of some cherished flower, Though gone from outward sense, belong To memory’s after hour. t So with -ur words; or har*h or kind, Uttered, they are not all forgot; They leave their influence on the ;nii.d, *■ Jhiss on, but perish not! So with our deeds; for good or ili, rhov have their power scarce understood; The; let us u.?e our better will To make them rife with good! ?f,*n the Woman's Temperance Pr.rr THE Ktlß TEMPTRESS; OR THE FATAL PLKOGE. BV MU'S. ANGEL -NA No*. Wilsori,” Bai*l George Grant, **we h*vc only one mori call to make to finish our up round of New ik cal!,. And glad am I, for t > tell the truth, I am half b( wilder. 1 with all this show and fascination gratuitous!v lavished upon us, poor bachelor wights, bv imperious beauties. who mcrcil*- *lv demand a whole ■ :-nrV homage crowded into brie* day, and all graciously received, and as gadartly ten-j ‘fled ;,s though w • thought tile ‘ighl of each luir iadvV smile riehlv ‘ompensated tor a.! this encoun ter o; w ind and snow; to say nothing of th -- whisper ing- of c insclencc in the ca t., foi I claim yet to re .air. r little -f that -•- mmodity. Acu did -volt to ft-1 . i,|s f(,p the last call, as doubtless your gentle i Mrv‘ ha something for your private --ur, hich i.r.v i,-.iu>re a prolonged interview Ah for Mabel, ‘fie magnificent beauty, I am already prepared to ‘ mtrender to her tnatehless charms. Mide-i . r Beil, as sh. was often called, *a- indeed 1 heafitiful. Tali and commanding in her mien, with i ‘omplt-xiou of dazzling whiteness, and cheek-* ’>l I -.V 11Ue with hair like th inven’a wing, ar.d eyes j te-rk i piergiug And her i.-iugti -w as like the wild g-:Gi ■-.( u..>entrancing the soul, with its mystic power. Mabel knew -hr waa beautiful. Mt a proud and aristocrat]-- family, with wealth at her command, and ■dneatfd only to shine and captivate, what wonder that she fancied herself a bright divinity, which man mi—ht fe-1 pn.utl to wombip, and honored in being permitted to serve. T|*e sister- were a*, unlike a: possible Mary, the younger, was aft*gentleness, fair and delicate, with a all Ki/nirte-s and benevolence. Her voice was *oft and h.w.lik- the music of a purling stream; and her mil l ties • -ained with melting undeme*-. as o ne ,] through their mirrored lights, down into the deep foundation of her soul. Charles ‘Vi son ha t won her heart, and she deair dno other. Bar's was a priceless treasure. Dfboteti fa Cnnpcrancf. fitrraturf, Central anti tbe fatesl Delos. George Grant was the only child of his widowed mother. Left ,n poor circumstances, she had to ex ert herself to reai ana - lucate this, her only child. She spared no pains v,ith his moral culture, which! ga'> early promise of future reward. Infirm in J health, she looked forward with bright anticipations j to this .son to be her comfort and support through J lif-’s wary pilgrimag-, and to hi .strong an i to su.- - j tain her declining footsteps in her pathway to the ; tomb. But clouds of darkness began to gather around her Her son, while absent from her, contracted a j taste for strong drink, and fora time heso.med rap- ! idly going to destruction. Through the influence of kind friends, and his! mother s teartul persuasion, hi joined the S,>r.s of J Temperance, and a few years of Total .Abstinence j trom all that can intoxicatt, restored him to his own , self-respect and the confidence of his fond mother | and friends. S-i.'h he in’ght have continued, but for : the pernicious and criminal custom of furnishing j w.ne on festal occasions Possibly some forebodings j of evil, dark and ominous, flitted across his mind, as ! the temptation had as-ailed him several times during their calls that day. Very different were the though’,-: of them young men afi they approached the spkndid mansion of I Judge B. It was brightly illuminated. The light gleamed forth through the half-closed blind.- upon the cold scene without, with inviting influence, and the full rich tones of music, accompanied with Ma bel’s powerful voice, broke upon the oar, sometime before they reached the house. Pausing upon the marble, stops, George caught j the distant view of his mother’s neat cottage, almost | hidden by the tall leafless elms, which seemed to I stand as giant sentinels to guard that quiet abode.— One solitary light gleamed steadily from a window, like a bright star to the te i.pest-tossed mariner, and with a feeling of disquietude he fancied that mother awaiting his return, and longed to be with her. Charles Wilson waited not for ceremony. With i the familiarity of one who knew he was ever wel come, he at once- entered, and both for a morneni stood unobserved in the luxurious apartment, spell bound by its magic influence. Mal>el, richly attired, was seated at the piano.— Mary sat upon a low ottoman, half reclining upon the sofa, lost in her own deep thoughts. This evening she was to name the day when Charles might claim her as his bride, and her heart swelled with unde finable emotion at the nearness of the time she had decided upon. One moment, and he was by her side. George Grant stood gazing at the magnificent be ing before him, until, pausing to turn over a leaf of her music, she observed him. Her color heightened, | as she rose and welcomed him; then, at his earnest solicitation, she resumed her music, as he seated himself by her .side. Mabel had looked upon young Grant as a desirable conquest. She was well versed in female blandishments, and a skilful performer on the piano. After a time the song ceased, and a live ly conversation followed, when she led the way to the sup; br room, leaving the two lovers to their own he: rt communing*, framing bright plans for the I coming future. j The table was elegantly furnished with all that j wealth and taste could devise to render it attractive land irresistible. Tempting viand- were invitingly arranged, and sparkling win. ~ in crystal goblets glit tered in the bright light of the costly chandeliers.— Filling two glasses, -he handed one to her guest with a bewitching smile, as she raised the other to her lips. II; henitated, then politely divined the wine; 1 at the same time taking a glass of water, he raided it to his lips wishing her a ‘‘Happy New Year.” “Oh,” j said Mabel, “I forgot that you were a teetotaler, but i come, you must pledge me in this glass of wine.— Surely you are not so ungaliant as to refuse?” “Miss | B ‘, said he, “I cannot,” then added, half playfully, ‘wire* is a mocker,’ ‘look not upon the wine when it i is red.'” “But surely,’’ said Mabel, growing more j earnest, “you do not fee.i ‘the adder’s sting’ in this j harmless gla- l of wine?” holding it up at the same j time b'.i veen his eyes and the bright lamp light, | and looking earnestly in h - face. Still he hesitated, j when she laid one jeweled hand upon his, and rais ing the: uth-r t> In i li; #■, o exclaimed, somewhat haughtily. “ Here'-, to your Murage, Mr. Grant." — The fair t-mp'.r,-- stood before him i -okiug directly into his very soul. Oi * moment la-struggled with the temptation, then seizing the gia-, and returning her gaze, he sain, “Miss 8., 1 cannot wit you. — ft, uvur htultL” And maddened to despera- . ! ti -n, he drank the fatal pledge. “Bravo!” said Mabel, ‘!-1 me help you to - une- 1 ! thing •-•iso. ’ H*’ needed now further urging. I Tb“ fumes of liiv wine exeiied his brain. The lights . i see tned to him bt lore him, the room reeled around, j the -lemon was roused within him ’ Grie glass more, peerless Mabel,” said he, seizing the decanter, but ’oh-- had hastily I*ft tli* ronn to summon his friend. , ‘Grant erupt..-d ar.oUi-.rg thou r*..hed from the ! house, and succeeded in reaching his i--.-th .is dwell- ; ing in a stale bordering -u freri/y. I Hi- mother had anis-usly waited fj o,m ng, and : ber H uick ear beard the sound of f-y.thteph. Hastily i rising, abe went to the door and opened it And ! ! what wen that mother’s feeling* oajbel olding her son in such a situation? None but a mulfur can; ’ tell. Her sou, her only child, on e reclaimed, now w .ai with intoxication st --1 almost paralyz’ and v ith iiorror. He ruah i-d past iier to his room, and trier, that mother's grief burst forth. “My G“d,” the exclaimed, falling upon her knee-, “have mercy upon us, upon my chilrt!’’ Ix-ng sh- wept and prayed. lb-gaining somewhat her composure, she tto’e into the room to t • ‘•< dside ‘of her son. There he lay as hi iwd thrown him*- if ! upon the bed, in the deep ueep of the drunkard. IWIEIII, SEOIItI l, SAWHMI. HTOHR li, ISA Morning dawned anti still he slept, and still she tv iiiclit 1 The thid day un gleamed in upon the watchful mother and her unconscious son. The -ba-ies of evening approached and darkened that cot | tags ere he awoke to consciousness. Seeing the j pale face --f his deviled mother bending over bin., , and her eyes swollen w ith tears, he uttered a groan, “Oh I” Rai-i lie, ‘I have Issm pursued by a demon i with the lonn of an angel.” His m<*thr strove to l quiot him, and ho again sank into >.W|i slumber, ! Iron- which ho awoke with a burning fever, aceotn j pooled by delirium And, oh, how he sutlor-.d with j ■ agony of mind I lie would describe Mabel 11., as j transcendautly beautiful, would ask her to sing and | play for him, then beseechingly implore her not to | tempt him with wine; then clutching for a glass I with demoniac laugh, mockingly drink her health ; j then hiss like the adder he imagined in the glass, j which he fancied he held in his hand, and shriek i with the fancied sting it inflicted. At last raving j with madness he leaped from the bed, and bursting j from bis mother's feeble grasp and the strong arm cf his friend \\ ilson, he rushed from the house in tiie darkness of midnight. That night and many days and weeks they search eti in vain for the poor wanderer. Mrs. Grant sunk into a rapid decline, arid was bu ried by the hands of strangers No tidings ever readied her of her lost son. Years passed on .Mary li. became the wife of j Charles Wilson. A little son was given th*. in for a short time, and j then removed by death. Mary's fond heart nearly ! broke when her darling child was taken from her. Often -ho visited his little gnu, and would *i: long after twilight indulging ber tears On one of these occasions she was startled by a (loop groan near her, and springing to her feet she l>c-held the dark figure of a man leaning upon the ! white head stone of Mrs Grant's grave. “Mary AY ilson,” said the hollow voice of George Grant, for it was him, “why do you weep over the crave pf your innocent child? Bather rejoice that ho was taken Irorn you ere he became a man. Ere temptation assailed him, or tin- wine cup’s sparkling glow decoyed him. Ere lie fi-lt the odder’t iting. — Ere he broke a faithful mother’s heart, or beoann a wanderer and an outcast from society, and ore he re turned in penitence and sorrow to take a last fare well of his mother’s grave, and tb--n go forth again into the wide world to drag out a few days, perhaps years of wearisome existence, then die unknown, un cared for and unwept, the poor tenant of some Pot ter's Field; a miserable candidate for eternity 1 I-001, ;at this grave, Mary Wilson, think you, could that mother -peak she would nut also exclaim, ‘Weep not for buried innocence I’ Would she not sav ‘Bather wu-p over fallen manhood.’ Would she not say, ‘O that my -on had died ere the blight of intoxication had blasted tny fondest hopes and ruined him for time and et< rnity?’ ‘Go! Mary Wilson, you have a higher work to perform on earth, than weeping over j the grave of buried innocence. Go and reform the usages of society Kei hiim the wanderer, the poor inebriate. Banish the fatal poison from your dwell irigs! Go’ Mary Wilson, tell your husband, as he values the worth of the immortal soul, to wage eter nal warfare against all that -’an intoxicate. Y-‘t, or*- yon go, accept tny thank.-: fur your kindness to the dead hefon m<; for this marble which bears her nam* and ag- And now I would ‘k alotlb, fav*- u dir - Search w- again made for the k-ne wanderer, but he had gone, none knew whither. BV AND BV j ’flier” i music enough in ihcci: throe words for the ’ burdi n <■! >i song. There is u Impc wrapped up in ’ them, an articulate hi at of the human heart By and by! *A\ heard it n:< h-ng age ns cun i rerr.i ruber, vie n vet. ina-.ic brief but perilous jour !ne from chair to table, and IV->m table to chan i again I AVi b* ir-i it the otherdny, .vtieis two purled who, j had been “loving in then Hvt-r.” one t Calif'irriin.’; the -it be tu-oiic lonely borm Everybody ?vs if som* time ,r other TV -oy j whisper’ -t to hiinsslf, when h dr* am- of eKcbang-1 Mug tie ttll-b- and iittl- sl-.c--- for hi-its Ilk* a man. Tie man murmur- it —-wb--n in life’s w otoli lie a-ren I bis plans half linishtd, and hi- hopes ■ ‘ ir. thy bud 1 waving in a -old late spri-.g i Th* old mail hi* it when ho thinks putting tin ■.irrt:u fm the immortal, */• -lav for t -murruw. The weary watcher for the morning, * hil<’ away j the derk hour* with “by *irwl bv 4-y *rt.-i by.” iim— it bound- like a ."Utg ; ---metiin- s i>< r<-’ is a --ign r -!h in it. What wc*iidn't tie- w<jrW - gw- to find ft in the alrnana- o wet <l*>wn -omwhurp, | ;no mutt-, if in the -tea r.u ]jr v know- ihat i Ii- would s-irelv come But, fatrv-iik--it is. tfitting Hk- a star beam over 1 tie d* .* s-itsd*-.'► f t.h* /ear.- eesle-iy -an sqnar. i :it nr, 1 when -1, kxth nick up ■’ ‘.b- ’iauy times , the*. t-*rd- boe* bevoibef us, the rn -m-irt * e that -d.ver by and bv te like the siittri-e f “t-tea | iitn but trjoiirnful to the soul.’ RICH JOKE. A staid, ddie aged gi titlcnian, *b” father ot a , largo fan. : l of- liii-Jret:, got bimst-lf into a Isughab e - ia;- -i few hiy .-’n -e He called at the P'let Office hand i:re i. i a e-ltv-r <lir* cted t“ hi- name, which on opening Ue loutid s-iine.wha* difficult to read. Mini v* ,11(1 .-nur I/s :,g \> .nt ind.-at-F- iphcr ing Illegible sc rav-.U. I, ok the letter to hix borne ir, tj.e Giovft, and ban lei - t- hi- wifemread. 11.- Hso-n'-bm- nt may be imagined when -lier-ad, with out much difficulty, a letter from Fultoo, Otwtgo county, informing him that he bud just become the j father of a line child, weighing lime pounds without its clothes ; that its fond mother was much better-I than could hi exp -.-ted, ntid earnestly requesting hint to visit his loving w ife and offspring on the com-! ing Saturday, and bring with him four diaper pins, a few yards of flannel, and other baby things. The gontkanan was thunderstruck, and its vri as he re covered ft-mv, his astonishment, protested that the latter was intended for someone else His w-HV en deavored to fall into hysici lei*, but her efforts ended lin a. fit of la ugh tar, and his grown up daughter was obliged to goto her mom to hide her blushes. The old gentleman declared that he will carry no more letters home to his wife to read, until ho is first sat isfied they are inquiries about insurance business.-* I.iichfield ttefvubliean. SICI - —* (.UANDMOrUER AAfTIqPK'S VIHITOU. “Dear Grandmother. In two days’ shall have the pleasure df being with you. Expect me on the 23d. “A our aflectionalc grand daughter, “Fanm.’’ Grandmother Antique laid down the note, aid her spectacles together. This was indeed a pleasant.sur prise ; she had not seen Fanny since she was six years of age, and she had now reached twelve. Preparations were accordingly made for the rorc-p lion of the young visitor; and, everything being ar ranged, Grandmother Antique sat down with her i knitting to await the arrival of her expected guest. At length the siago horn whs heard, an I emerging from a cloud of dust, the singe itselfreached the door, and Fanny, jumping out, was soon clasped in the fond arms of Grandmother Antique. “Hear me, how excessively fatigued* I am,” said the young lady, as she threw herself on the sofa, and allowed h* r grandmother to remove her bonnet. “Aty child,” said grandmother Antique anxiously, as she gnse.il at the drooping beauty now reclining nt full length, “let me get you a cup- of tea ;. it will re fresh you, no doubt.” “Black tea, then, grandmother, if you pleas**,” was j the languid response. “O, dear,” ejaculated the old holy , “at your age, | child, I never knew that tea had more than one col j or.” “Ah, dear grandmother!” was the answer, “the young people of these days know infinitely more than those of your time and ihe young person of this days bestowed a look of pity upon the venerable, but, alas ! ignorant relic of the past “No doubt, my dear,” said the old lady submissive-1 ly, “you can teach your grandmother many things.” The next morning, grandmother Anriquo was seat ed at th* br- akfist table, when her grand dnughtci made her appearance “Gran-lmother,” she said, “I have bi .-n exploring your premises, and wonder greatly that you do noi modernize your building. These doom want improv ing ; arches are n-w the fashion; and plate glass, that of a [fink tinge, would be a beautiful substitute for these queer little panes, that look a.- if they came from Lilliput. How can you stand them; old fash ions, grandmother ?” “My dear,” said the old lady, “youth lovm novel ty, but age is ever averse to change. 1 would not exchange these little panes, through which the sun shine ha . looked iri upon me lovingly far fifty years, for all the pl*-t. glnus ever made.” The fashionable Fanny looked with ainnzeriicnt at grandniothir Antique, for she agreed with the adage, that “on* 1 had b *. -r Is- sit of th* world than out of fashion ’’ Fanny remained * •-o weeks with h. r grandmetlic", | and then departed for horn*-, Lading gtv* ■ ‘lie >|d‘ lady a peep at tn'-d n times, u/i-i opened f-r her th<- door through which -dn- could look into th* gay world of fashion Tinr-i :[••! --n, .--."-I Fanny -p don with tim-i At eipotren siie tia*l vi-ir.n every fasb ionabb v.uteiing r-lac, in the ft. -n, Iws.-n introduced t(f t very “distinguished foreigner” who had appear ed in s- wtj , and had Aim n whirled ‘n th* w aliz nn*l •;c! *,ttir.*'**- by • very rncstaclte*! gei t!*.o-a- wie.plea j **dqV) <1 > h'-i- that ‘honor. She • .*! ki| ■: j-u*-*- will, i (every tnhi*n b*rv-v- - r ficiilotie, and fpGj parts- j i k--. it *i*ii:i-” mem that f>i*-i. - oa* I* *-*setv af-1 ! forded At t • .t- tln*r-/ w■: r.-.t 1 . i _ ir**>r<; left fl.rj ib*r to *-fijoy, and slu, -ot.cl *■!<>: ) pa* another visit! I to grandrnoth* r Aotiqoi Th- old ted-, wn* lill’r* - ung in tier ancient house,! ! th* window-pane l which b*xl grown n-i larger, j i r*--t‘ •rha I Tim* tor* e-l th*. il'-.r* into ar-'h* foil i ! tented*} her-- -b- still dwi It. niri/.- to the w aves j |cf fashion that r*iti-d afsr iff, but (-*. -•-* b*--it. veiinrt her t*e*n**-ful Vi**r*u. ’ Re*rtle>- and deie-it and, Fanny wandered the first j • day over the hou-e, and when evening spr* ad itself j I like a bla*i( niatitl* over tb*. tartt- ! b* jo.'.ed b*-j ! i gramlmnther at the cheerful fir - id* , i Tli! old lady / -zed with sorrowful surprise at the I I pals, d* j*i*-t- .l count-sane, cf t ~r grandchild, r*d I jh'-ardwith litarf/elt pain tfie k-.ug-drawi. sighs that etn***r,t*vt from te i b(-*/>m ri!<■ natural l ) concluded that sorre-diep -oirov- bad crosstd tliu | alb of the ! young girl *. . -e they had last met, and moved by what to tier, seemed ■•><] d* monstrotiura ofgro.f, she 1 a* length said - I “My lov-, y i seem very unhappy.” “No, irrandmnther, **nly weary,” wan the reply. *• V. i-.iry of w hat?” a-Ked grandmother Antique, with .-mpri • ATiary oi the worjd, grandmother: it is such a dull place.” - “My ohiM, rny child,” said the old lady reproving* , ty, “tli** world, with its thru ami aveuut-s of pl< us ure ami amus* merit, a dull place —this world, cres ted by God’rt own band,and idled by Ins bounty with (duel* nntiiberietiS beaotDia!” im. iiL-raa io. “1 inn tired of amusements, grandmother; they no longer poseeas power to am*ise me.” “No wonder, my love, that you are tired of nnms* iiientw, as you have done nothing else since you w ere fourteen but amuse yourself. But you like ball-, do you not V” “Not now lam tile iof them,” was the answer; “and 1 have been in society so long that people seem tired of seeing mo there, and no one pays me any at tention.” “Aon like the opera, do you not, rnv dear ’ was tho next question. “Yes, I did, hut lam tired of that too. 1 havi heard all the famous singers.” “Then, my dear,” said grandmother Antique, “since you have no relish for the pleasures of the world, you fortunately possess in domestic occupa tions, an over-flowing and nover-wi-arying fount of pleasure. Now there, for instance, icsew ing; u wo man can always amuse herself with her needle ; and I assure you that more happiness lies at the point of that ali ning litt’e implement of industry, than lazy people imagine.” “O, dear grandmother, l never touch n needle, they are dangerous things. 1 remember reading a de scription of the tombs in Westminster Abbey, among which is a monument erected to the memory of Tardy K iaabeth Russell, who died from it wound inflicted on her finger by a needle. Ever since, 1 have been afraid to sow, as I do not desire to gain my tomb stone by such a catastrophe as tlmt. - ’ “AToil, then, there is reading, my love, wliieh is the most delightful and improving of all the ways of pa-s ----ing time.” “Reading, grandmother, isinjnrious to tny health; it produces a fullness in (be head very unpleasant.” “A fullness in the head, tnv dear,” said grandmo ther Antique, dryly, “would be a decided improve ment to that part, which, I fear, is now suite-ring from an opposite cause.” Fanny gazed long and thoughtfully into the (ire, and at length said : ! “The truth is, grandmother, I begin to think that I partook of the plenstin sos the w orld nt looeai lv an a :o, and at tw enfy f am satiated with w orldly amuse ments; and oh ! what is still worse, I have cultiva ted no taste for the quiet joy's of home.” Grandmother Antique laid down her knitting, and looking nt her g*nndelii'd, said solemnly : “My love, yours is the most painful confession I have ever heaiil from youthful lips. Ah! youth knows not what it does, when, eager to gi i.m nt the pleasures of uuituier years, it etits impatiently ttn chain that moors its link to the safe -hoi-in of child hood, and dishes out into the wide and perilous stream of the world. Yours was, indeed, a fatal mistake—to drink so early and deeply of Pleasure's cup, that at twenty’ you have quaffed it to the dregs, and there is nothing more lelt lory mi lo*ij-*y. O! would, my child, tlmt some kind friend had curly impressed on your young heart this truth : “ ‘That youth, burning to forestall its na'iire, And w ill not wait for Time !o ferry it Over the stream, flings itself into The flood, and p* ri-l.*-s.’ “ AN UNBIDDEN (it'EST. A marriage ceremony w as to have been celebrated a few evenings sinco the happy parties, a w ould-be widower o! Erin and a young w idow of this city. The preparations had been made with much taste mutual friends invited, the revi rend minister in wi it iug to unite the happy pair in the silken hands Tho happy bride had arrayed herself in the pure*-* white, her hair adorned with c'oupht, of orange flow ers Tin; rejoicing bridegroom had appeared, and with manly pride conducted his “Quant- Ibid*,” s he railed her, to the altar, and all vms proceeding as gailv as a marriage bell, when a sudden rap u! ‘he door startled the company. The door was open* *l, and there stood a woman, holding a “hild hy each band. Her appearance indicated thut she had not been bidden, and fh<- inquiry was rudely made,— “AVhotdoyou want?” She replied, promptly, “I want my husband.” This reply struck upon the *nr rf the faithless husband with astounding effect, i-s he stood revealed as a base traitor to vows which he ha-1 taken under circumstances not less iin [losing than those which aurroundvd him at the- time- of which wu write Covered w ith confusion ami dis may, he vamosed, leaving the unfortunate and wretch ed bride alone before tho altar—who, becoming eon hGouh of her situation, the chalice of p'easure c> n vertod into poison, just as it was offered to ber lips, took refuge in darkness now made hideous by the circumstances which had just transpired. The com pany, w ith amazed faces, turned to look on faces still more amnzi and, left, orio by one, and last of all the minister, who “Liko one who treads alone Some banquet hall deserted,” i moralizing on the degenerate times, wends his way, | fetUcut, to his home. AA’o are not acquainted with j the subsequent history of tho parties. AA'c w ould not reveal what further anguish wes endured; we would only draw the moral—Ladies look before you leap.—- Bxitimort Pah lot. ! Hr AA'oman is poetry carried into human nature ,—a volume of lips, eyes, cuils, hearts, hands and all that, the thought of which is as far ahead of sleeping l in a bed of icc-crcam in these ho*, nights, as a ro-c j te in advance of a cabbage, or a man of parts ahead ; of the money tr!b *. i wr A lovesick young man is a pitiable object.- j li -s ideas are Centered upon ringlels, blue eyes, spoi lt*:*! muslins and si ch like dangerous attractions.—- i Bents, marketing, doctor’s hills an I other incidentals : to matrimony never enter hie head. JaLIES t. slain, I‘UIVI KB.