Pittston Gazette and Susquehanna Anthracite Journal

              I es. PITTSTON *$$Sk GAZETTE, AND SUSQUEHANNA IflTHlACI-TE JOURNAL. 51 ISttklij Ilentspjift- ( Dtunfti) In Jfltuts, liltratart, tljt Jllrrrnntilc, mining, Jtitrjjimicitl, nnti %imlnral 3ntrctsts n! tljt Cnnnfry, Snstrnrfinn, Slmusmrat, %x. )—Cma Unllnra fu Sltmittn- VOLUME 3.--N UMBER 37. PITTSTON, PA., FRIDAY, APRIL 1853. WHOLE NUMBER 141. which the sublime structure of lhe Coper, nican, sometimes called the Newtonian system is reared For though summoned by an infidel clergy to "retract," because, forsooth, the Bible was otidangered, unless the earth was believed to be motionless, and extended like a broad flat pancake, reposing upon tho back of an enormous quadruped, did so, but followed the signature with the remark, "The earth still rolls." This bold remark handed his fame lo posterity, while his recantation saved his boity 'from a dungeon, and perhaps from the stake. Long as liberty has a home on earth, will our JefTersons1 Adamses, Hancocks, Washingtonfc and Franklins be known, and their memories revered. Long as the blood flows in human arteries and veins, will the name of Doctor* Harvey of London stand prominent among the benefactors of his racp, who, at tho sacrifice of a life long reputation, and an extcn-ive and lucrative practice, announced to the world the interesting discovery of tho circulation of the blood. And need I speak of a IIuss of Bohemia, a Luther of Germany, and a Wesley of England, and the crowd of martyrs and reformers who spent their lives and shed their blood in the cause of religious liberty, and tho rights of conscience? Their history is too well known. They were men who thought and acted lor themselves, and acted as they thought. Let their example bo imitated. No stakes and dungeons now throng the path through which thev passed to fame and glory.— And coward indeed must that man be who cannot brave the sneers and scoffs and the denial of patronage, the only weapons left in the hands of lhe enemies of free investigation, who use them because they must do something to gratify their spleen. Let their example be imitated and though it may cost the sacrifTce of the approbation of some who would like to do our thinking und investigating for us, or at least, wish us lo arrivc at such conclusions and acton such principles «s-suit their own notions, and harmonize with their feelings—and society contains many such men—yet the gain will infinitely transcend the loss. We shall realizo in the maintenance of our conscious manliness, the respect shown to the dignity of our own nature,"and in the exercise of that intellect and reason which our Creator gave us and holds us responsible to use, a saljsfaolion fur surpassing Ihut which we would reap from an obsequious yielding to the dictations of others. But why speak of loss in pursuing such a course? The little petty would be tyrant, who will deny us his friendship and favor, except we investigate, and think, and act, nnd speak, and write what and as he may desire, or not at all, is not worth minding. Let everv man who holds his fiiendship al such a price, keep it to himself. The fewer sucli friends a man may have, the better he is off. To purchase them at such a consideration is " paying quite too dear for a whistle." And besides, even such men cannot deny us iheir respect, though they may withdraw their friendship ; for cow. ards admire courage in others, and lalk lordly of it as a quality of their own, in the absence, • of course, of anything which would subject it to a lost. Such homage meanness is constrained to pay to nobility. We boast of our independence ; let our characters evince lliul is appreciated, and show u determination to maintain it. generous philanthropy, an active henevo. I lence, a consistent and ardent patrioiD«1Tl) i ever intent upon instructing the ignorant, correcting the erring, reclaiming the u. cious and profligate, relieving the needv, comforting the disconsolate, developing the resources, and conducting to a happy issue the affairs of the State, are not only the brightest ornaments of human character, crowning it with honors, fairer far than e'er was won amid the deafening din of battle, but open up to their possessor the tidiest source of lasting happiness. 1 love 10 contemplate such a man I The attributes of Godhead seem to shine forth in his character. He seerns like a representative of Cod among men, an angel of benevolence sent from heaven lo bless the world. And while he blesses others, lie blesses himself, unintentionally, it may be, but really and substantially. To him the doctrine of the Great Teacher is far from problematical, or a mere rhetorical beauty; it is a joyful verily, tested by a happy experience, "It is more blessed to give than to receive." God himself find* pleasure in doing good. 'Tie delighteth in mercy." Creation is the outgushiog ol his goodness; redemption is the overflowing of his love. Men and angels were formed after his image ; they must find the same happiness in the same way. They must have em ploymont, something useful to do. Hence angels are ministering spirits to men, and men should be angels to one another. Nor will time and earth limit useful exertions. Goodness must ever be active. And when this short life is done, and earth and lime are lelt. other worlds shall open a theater of useful exploits and benevolent emerprise, and on, and on, must the spirit bound, and find its bliss through unwast. ing yenrs in doing, as well as receiving good. O, then let tho impression, ever deepening, ever abiding, come home to our minds, and become the controlling law of their activities, that whenever we shrink from doing good when lhe opportunity of. fers, whenever we cease to tread the paths of usefulness and philanthropy which Providence opens up before us, we ore derelict to ourselves, practical encmics to our own happiness, and its real destroyers. For the voice of God, of nature, of reason and experience, unite to proclaim, that for long ages pendant over the world and deluging it with blood, will have swept •wer ; the last echo of its thunder will havo been lost in the roll ol time. The armies of nations will hav0 dispersed from the fields of carnage and daughter, ond the roar of battle lost in the songs of the world's great jubilee. The sun ol righlousness shall beam forth in full orbed glory upon the race, and error anj sin like mists before the sun, shall be rolled away. Then shall the thrones of despots crumble tothe dust, their sceptres be wrenched from their grasp, their crowns fall from their brows ; and the warrior with his glory con. verted into infamy, shall pass from the stage and rot with his withered laurel.— But what of those who have aided in accomplishing this grand achievement, ond devoted :heir lives lo the service and king, dom of Christ? "They shall be had in everlasting remembrance." Il is the unchanging purpose of Heaven lhat those who neglect his glory, shall he lightly esteemed, and iheir names held in perpetual contempt ; while those lhat suffer with Christ shall share his glory. While the Alexander's, the Cease rs, the Bonapartes of the world shall bo searching in vain for iheir laurels, M.iry and Lazarus, and the humblest followei of the Lamb, shall be wearing their crowns of unlading lustre.— •' Behold the Lamb of God." His death was not more necessary to expiate the guilt of man, than was his life to furnish him a pattern of holiness, and his triumphant en| trance intCT heaven, to assure all who walk i in his steps of the favor and blessing of God i und ultimate deliverance from toil and sor| row, und an exaltation to his throne. His was a life of piety and religion. Ilis example is perfect. He scorned the glory of the world, lhe pageants of time, the treasures of earth, the praise of men, and spent his life in doing good, and found his bliss in lhe purity and benevolence of his own spirit, und lhe smile of God. He died in ignominy and pain ; on awful ignominy, a boundless pain ! But he died with the mantle of his purity around him, and the springs of his goodness stili fresh and lively within. He died amid the anathemas and scorn of earth, with thorns on his brow, and spikes in his hands, and a spear in his heart ; but yet his death was glorious.— Unconscious nature gave homage lo the scene, While heaven obedient to his prayer, botted to his comfort and succor. And while his eye rolled in and grew dim in death upon the cross, lhe visions of the joy which was set before him stood full und radiant in its gaze. Cheered by the prospect of coming triumph, he patiently endurefi his ngony, and sank into lhe tomb, for that triumph and joy were not an ideal, ity, a fiction, but a glorious, substantial, immorla! verity. And now that joy which flashed before his vision in the manger, in the garden, arid on the cross, is his inheritance and shall be his forever. The throne of the universe is his seat; angels and principalities are made subject lo him.— His hands once spiked to the tree, now bear the sceptre of universal dominion.— Ilis brow, once crowned with thorns and bathed in its own blood, now wears the cro'vn of boundless empire, and glows with a blaze of glory loo bright for even angel vision. Behold him ! There he sits enthroned at God's light hand, wearing his title " King of kings, and Lobdof lords," while " ten thousand limes ten thousand ond thousnnds of thousands," of radiant forms encircle his throne. THE PITTSTON GAZETTE, brightly than others, this, also, becomes our own by right of conquest. The pointed propriety of Pope was to all his reatiers originality, and even the lawful possessors could not always recognize their own property in his hand*, i'ew have borrowed inore freely than Gray and Milton ; but with n princely prodigality they have repaid the obscure thoughts of others, with far brighter of their own ; like the ocean, which drinks up the muddy water of the rivers from the flood ; but replenishes them with '-the clearest from the shower." them at all, it must be in a manner suited to the peculiarity impressed upon them by our -individuality. We rmiMt do it in a man. ner strictly our own. Jt may lack some of the beauties and graces which that of others possesses but those very beautiosand graces in us, would be deformities. They would savor too strongly of affectation and imitative art to ornament our manner, and hence disgust rather than please ; awaken contempt, rather than cxcite admiration.— The object for which we speak or wrile should always be, to win the minds of others to our views. But before this can be accomplished, und they brought into captivity lo our sentiments, the mists of ignolance which may hang around them must be dispersed, the prejudices which wall the heart must be broken down, the indifTer. ence which stupifics the understanding, must be overcome ; and to accomplish this, it is indispensable that we think clearly, and feel as our subject requires, and that we throw out our thoughts like missiles, from the el8stic bow of our own untrammeled souls flaming in the blaze of our own emotions. And however profound or logical those thoughts may be, however ardent and deep our emotions, they require a style and manner which will show that they are ours in order to effect their object. That style and manner will be natural.— Imitate the stripling David who, scorning the golden armor of Saul, went forth lo meet the proud champion of Philislia's hosts and avenge the insulted honor of his country's arms, armed only with Ins shep herd sling, and his bag 6f stones from the brook, because they were natural to him, he knew how to employ them; and though you may not appear so gaudy or so grand, yet in tho end it may be found, that whila the men of literary groce and oratorical splendor have slain their thousands, you will have slain your tens of thousands. But I need pursue this sub. ject no farther. 1 will pass lo POETRY. AND latqneliana Anthracite Journal BRHEZB OP SPRINGS HIVT' tDeg.«,, He a dtanplMMUInfc . The tunny hour* are coming w The atormy time la paat. * The Ice no longer blnda the rill, ttor anowatholr mantle din* '; For every blonk and barren hill. PUBLISHED WEBKI.V BY V. M. R1CHART 8 II. S. PHILLIPS. WJUs rrctt lidt of Jflin Street, ttrtnd itary of the "!*ng to'tort" of Wisucr «S- H'oud. Tilt "ClimTT* fc JoiRSiL" is publishedevery FriCl»y, at Two Dollars per annum. Two Dollars and rllty Cents wilt i,o cl(.iwd ir niHjMUil within lhe year. M« piiiar will bodisconttnlicd until *11 arrearages are paid. ApvltltfllVNXiiTt are inssrted conspicuously at Osk I lot.* ut |»r suuiire uf fourteen line* for tlirue Insertions; andT\vic»T*-rivK CzNTs.adtlfUonirtfnrevery sirbscqMonl insertion. Altbaral doducllon tu those who adveruaa tw»l» uaonlhior the whole year. wnj.*..,., .on Work.—-U'b hive eonacrted with our rilfibu.riment 1 a well selected assortmentof Joe Tvm, whid.IK,."?, ble us to execute, In the neatest sl)le,every vurlel) • ntliig. Has kissed the breoze or Spring. I hear Its miulc in tho %ood, It aigha iilong Uio vale, Where aummer floirers in beauty atoodi It lingers In the dale ; ll '.lava upon lhe primrose banks, rests itli myrl-y wtngj 1 lie Mn»,ping snow-drop kindly thanks 1 tie »C ,ter„ breeze of Spring. All! .weniiyn0WB Whoro violets grow In the lo»«M»hady lane; It bids ila bl«w, And onward B(piin. It wakes lbs flownl* w ,|lc And tlwy thoir oflcHjigg bring ; The Bowers their swrate* Inconse yieldt To scent the breeze of Spring. The blackbird, from the hawthorn bush, Renews his lively strain * On topmost branches stands the thrush, And tunes his throat Amain; close Of evehlhg calm alid mild, lie makes the forest ring Willi tmtlrewoodnotcs, clear and wild—' lie loves the broe*e of Spring. In this manner, that is, pondering the thoughts of others, forming them into new combinations, abstracting redundencies and supplying defects, brightening what is dark, and giving clearness to what is obscure, evolving latent beauties, and briofning and harmonizing the whole, we are not onlv original, but acquire mental strength and energy. Tho truth is, and it should be Universally known and felt and acted upon, that dip mind is developed, strengthened and improved, by its otcn ex erase. It has been almost universally supposed that the study of Mathematics furnishes the mind with a better and more vigurous discipline, than any other branch of science. Hence many, acting under the influence of this mistaken notion, de. vote long attention to them, anticipating no other advantage than mental discipline.— But after all that has been sai.l of the greater energy and superior discipline, Mathematics ure adapted lo impart, L con less myself unable to perceive why they .should be regarded so vastly superior to other branches of science, socially these which require long, regular, consecutive exercises of thought and reason, to impart discipline and energy lo the mind; The truth, it jsecms to me, is, it is exercise itself, ond not the objects upon which it is exerted, nor the particular theatre in which it is put forth, whiyli impart these qualities lo the mind. Tho blacksmith's right arm is remarkable fur its size and strength. He has accustomed it to wield the hammer and pledge but it is not the hammer und sledge which have produced lhe phenomenon. It is the etctcise of wielding them. Had he employed any other instrument, the effect would have been the same. So, if men would think us much and.as closely upon other sub. jects, as they are compelled to do upon Mathematics ,-in order to understand them, I sue no reason why they would not obtain an equal advantage on the score of discipline, with the additional profit of more thoughts am! ideas. No, it is jjot books, nor seminaries, nor colleger, nor the peculiar branches of study men may pursue, which will give expansion and greatness to tho intellect. For one may go through all these, and come forth flourishing his diploma, und have strung to his name any number of literary titles, and yet, be unable to rival the plough bov in intellectual energy and strength. It ii excrciie, I repeat ; earnest, deep, consecutive thinking and study ; not thinking of thoughts, but think, ing thoughts i not studying bnoks merely, but subjects, not receiving ideas like a passive recipient, as a vessel receives water, but evolving, arranging, combining (hem, and weaving them into the web ol his own thoughts, and molding them into his own mind, and blending them into his intellectual being, which gifos tho mind greatness and vigor. Do understand mo as lightly esteeming tho advantage* of academical and collegiate I ruining. These are great J and cannot well be over estimated. INTERESTING LECTURE. Self Obligation, or the Duty which Young Men Owe lo Themselves-—An Address Delivered before the PilU'lon Lyceam, on the evniing of March ISth, by the liev. C. H. ilnrvey, of Kingston, Pa., and ■published by the request ofllie mem. hers of that Assuciation. , [concluded.] PART II. As the present lecture is intended to bo n continuation of the preceeding, I may, I think, approptiatf'.y waive all introductory remarks, and procced at once with our subject. This you will remember, is. Self Obligation, or the duties which young men owe to themselves. And my object in treating upon this subject is, lo sketch The robin loaves his wintry friends For hedge-rows far away- Above his mossy nee! he bends, And pipes bis plaintive lay. The lurk uprising with tho light, On merry mountnlii wing— Si rains all his might till out of tigbfj And hails the breeze of Spring. A hundred voices (ill the atr, The sun shines warmly down; Away with each intruding carp, And leave the gloomy town. Come,%iam along the woodpath groenj some of the more prominent responsibililies which arise from tho nature, variety, complexity, expansibility, nnd improvable character of our powers and facnllieo, and tho influence I bey shed over each oilier in lhat mutual relationship and reciprocal dehendance, our C'ralor has established iimono them, ns well as the mould and direction they are liable to recrivo from the operation of external agencies, which bio constantly throwing an influence upon ihetn to mould our character and determine our destiny, and, which together, comprise what is commonly culled the " economy of onr beinj," and nr» practically eufLroed bv considerations arising from a due respect lo our own nature, which is i' ally out* oil. For nil external existences tire to us what our capabilities render 'Ihem, olid nothing other. Were we not ontlowe.d 'villi a cupabiliiy of seeing, the sun would »hine in vain to us ; the my riad o!D- Ilear nature's (hvoHtes sing, Enjoy the soul-cullvening scene, And woo the breeze of Spring. Dublin University Magazine. Female Bdtoc8tltjn, A fourth obligation which we own lo ourselves, and one very nearly allied to the above, which is, Indt'fiendaiice of decision and character. No obligation per. hap?, is more imperative than this.— liverv consideration of interest and self respect combine to enforce it. And yet; in none perhaps are multitudes so derelict as in its observance. Every man should act on all occasions upon his own convic. tfons irrespective of the feelings and wishes of others. Yet no fault is more common, and none evidences greater weakness among men, than a disregard of this mandate, laid upon us bv that very fiat ol ("Jod in whioh He ordained our manhood. It i* true indeed, that there is n respect which is duo to the opinions and feelings of others, thnt ever should he shown from man to man in the reciprocal relations of llle, and which a cultivated gentleman will never be at a loss to determine, and never slow to award. Iiut this is very different from that spirit of crouching sycophancy and fawning servility, which prostrates its vassal at the shrine of tlm great idol of the nge—popular opinion,—and bends his will and shapes his actings by the senti. ments nnd wishes of other men, and which, though it may leave him a man in thought, converts him into a slave in char, acter. As every man should strive for or. iginality of thought and an independant judgment, so should he cultivate a moral energy of will, which will enable him fearlessly and frankly to avow his convic. lions and act according to them on all oc caslons. 1 am awsrethat to form and sustain such a character Is a task encompassed with great difficulty, and requiring great exertion. It often costs great Sacrifices, and fierce contests with severe opposition. As society has been organized in past ages, it was almost certain to bring down temporal ruin upon his head, and blast his contemporaneous reputation, if any ono, instead ol moulding himself with the masses and floating along with the current ol popular sentiment, struck out a field of inquiry for himself, and fearlessly entefed it in the spirit of a discoverer, and returning with his achievements,threw thom out like a man ol philanthropy and courage into the face of the dfoWsy and obsequious world, specially if the fruits of his labors disclosed any rottenness and error in old opinions and institutions, and he was able to offer better ones in their stead. Hence the cause of freedom, religion, and even ol science, has been nourished by the blood of so many noble martyrs. And who were they? Certainly not slaves to popular sentiment, obsequious menials, crouching at the feet of earthly power, and bowing at the shrine of the idol of error though venerable and gray with years; They were men of independent thought, who dared to investigate lor themselves,— men ol moral strength of will, heroes, who had courage in the face of frowning infiuence and threatening power to speak out their thoughts and convictions ; men who loved truth more than fame, the man in themselves mere than stations open only to sycophants and slaves; men who set a higher prico upon a good oonscienco nnd tho smile of God than upon the approbation and applause of men. Though fow such men have been lound at any one period in past ages, yet in the grand aggregate their numbers have swollen to a vast constellation of worthies, whoso names and deeds shed a glowing radiance over the past, and around which a brighter lustre shall constantly gather in- the roll ol coming time. These are the gems of historv, culled from the bogs of the oppressive past, and destined lo shine like a vaulted pavement of stars, and adorn the diadem ol the future. While stars and suna shitie, and planets roll in heaven, will the name of Gallileo be. remembered and revered, who discovered and exposed tho errors of the Ptolemaic system of Astronomy, and threw out the suggestions upon There docs not appear any reason why the ed* ncation of women should differ, in its essential*, from that of men. The education which is good for human nature is good for them. They are a part—and they oughtto be in a much greater degree than I hey are, a part—ot the effective contributors to the welfare and intelligence of the human tamily. In intellectual as well as in other affairs, they ought to be fit helps to man. The preposterous absurdities of chivalrous times still exert a wretched influence on (he character and allotnient of women. Men are not polite but gallant; they do not act towards women as to beings of killdred habits and character, as to beings whti, like the other portion of mankind, reason, and reflect, and judge, but as beings whd please, and whom men are bound to please. Essentially there is no kindness, no politeness in this, but selfishness and insolence. He iB the man of1 politeness who evinces his respect for the female mind. He is the man of Insolence who tacitly says, when he enters into the society of women, that he needs hot to bring his intellects with him. I do not mean to affirm that these persons intend iniolenee, or are conscious always of the real character of their habits; they thin* they are attentive and jiolite; and habit has become so inveterate, that they really are not pleased, if » woman, by the vigor of her conversation, interrupts the pleasant trifling to wlich they are accustomed. Unhappily, a great number of women themselves prefer this varnished and gilded contempt to solid respect. They will not see, and very often they do not see the practical contempt with which they are treated / yet what insolence is so great as that of half a dozen men, who, having been engaged in intelligent conversation, suddenly ciC change it for frivo.ity if ladies enter. To honest industry and a generous aim, At once he draws the stint; 01 hfc nnd death, He wulks with nature, and her path* are pcace." "The man who consecrates his hours, j cts which now lenl a charm to life, would be nil in vain to us. Useless, utterly uvless, that beauty mantles the earth, and sublimity adorns the sky. Even G .»1 himself, and the glorias of his throne, would exist in vain lo us, were we desti- Nearly related to the above, is tlio sixth obligation which we owe to oifrselves, and the last on which we shall dwell in this hasty and imperfect sketch, and that is, The cu/tii'ation of a spirit of deep and fervent piety, the unreserved consecration oj ourselves to the service and Kingdom of Christ. You prize no'hing so highly as intellectual supremacy ; and you would ( doubtless follow any counsel which you bi lieved would put you in possession of iliis distinction. Hut what subject in the whole range of thought, within the wido •boundaries of our intellectual survey, can impart such an impulse to the mind, and give such an elevation to all its powers, as that of nure and undefiled religion ? No one dots or can doubt this, «ho under, stands its rml nature. It" is undoubtedly unfortunate, that when'religion is the topic of discourse, and iis claims to our person, al regards tire urged upon t'S, our minds immediately revert to ccrtuin dogmas and a ceremonial routine distinctive of the sect or party from which our religious instructions already received have been derived, or lo that to which the earnest advocate may be attached. This, I say, is unfortunate ; because it serves lo divert the mind from what is primary and roal in religion, lo that which is secondary and accidental. Opinions and ceremonies are not religion ; do not constitute that piety which God enjoins upon our acceptance, and our interests enforce upon our regards. That pietv consists not in the shibboleths and antagonistic dogmas of seels and parties ; it is not lo be acquired by submission to the opinions and usages ol others, nor by wearing the straight jacket of denominationalisms, nor by tight lacing the soul with the pride and bigotry of seclarianism; it consists in sublime conceptions of God— of the nature ond influence of redempiion, of the object of probation upon the eternal destiny of man, and in a cordial observance of the great duties of revelation. This religion lias done more to exalt human character than any ar.d all other subjects combined. And the achievements it has already won, arc but a lithe of what it is destined yet lo eflect. It is the great element of mental and mornl growth, both in heaven and in earth. No man can be truly great unless his mind is purified and enlarged by its sacred power. It gave elevation and grandeur of soul to prophets and apostles, and drew from their inspired lips and pens effusions of moral sublimity and grandeur, which have survived the. wreck of ages, and are destined still to live through all coming time, and shed a widening wave of lovo and glory over the raco till the world is made a paradise. In modern days it has raised high in ihe scale of being such men as Newton, and Millon, and Boyle, and Locke. It is only redeeming power from Heaven which is now going forth to emancipate l',e nations from the bondage of sin and corruption, and to introduce among them learning, and genius, and arts, and comforts, and the virtues of social life, and a blissful hope of an immortal life in heaven. And, with continually augmenting power and accelerating velocity, it will continue its career, until every tribe has felt its benign influence, and the earth is changed to a paradise of truth and holiness. Truth shall then be the universal law and love its grand executive. The age of chivalry will then have passed. The cloud of war tute of a capacity fo know him and least lip'on his glories. Primary in the rank of ohjpcu of interest and importance to us, therefore, stands ourselves , our own noture ; for all else is lo us as we are in ourwetves. First therefore upon the list of responsibilities, are those wo owe our selves. And lo sketch the leading ones among these, is lhe design of these discour- srs. Already two have been laid before you,—lhat ol forming ond cherishing an i xalted ond just estimate of the worth, and value of our nature,—and the proper cultivation nnd harmonious development of our faculties and power*. I now advnnce loo third, ffhich I shall denominate originality, or, the preservation of our own iden tity. We differ among onrsclvis in the external conflirUratioiJ of our bodies, not A fifih obligation which we owe to ourselves is, Ihe end to which wo should devole a well jdeveloped, and thoroughly cultivated, and symmetrically formed character, the doing of good. It docs not fall within the limits of my design lo urge this duty upon your observance, on the ground of its being the dictate cf both natural and revealed religion, and proclaimed with emphasis by the voice of reason and the command of God in our ears. Hut simply on that of the reflex influence it sheds upon ourselves, the pleusure and happiness always atlendant upon a life of bcbificent aims and useful endeavors. The oidsring of the great universe, the framing of the world, the slructuro of every prganic existent, the arranging and adjusting of ihe different parts of our bodies, the variety of our mental faculties and powers, and their adjustment with each other, all proclaim that God is benevolent and kind, as well as great and wise and powerful. lie would noi, therefore, impose special duties upon his offspring without consulting, either immediately or remotely, their happiness and well being. To whatever he calls us by the voice of his word or providence, we may rest assured, from the beneficence of his character, that our own happiness is to be sccured by prompt and persevering obedience. And by placing us in society in which wo have a part to act, and over which we Can and must ex* eri an influcnco for its weal or its woe, he has, in a mauner too unequivocal '.o be misunderstood, demanded us, lo a life of usefulness, and made a firm and sleady adherence lo it essential to our happiness. And besides, we constitute Integral parts of Society, and our interests to a large extent are identified with it. Whatever, therefore* operates to the disadvantage of society, must exert a withering influence upon our own felicity ; and whatever for its good, must accelerate our prosperity.— By so much, therefore, as our own happiness is an object of solicitude and effort with us, in the same proportion should we zealouslv strive to do good, to benefit mankind, especially those with whom we are connected in the reciprocal relations of social life. That man is ignorant or, I was about to say, the first elements of happiness, who has not learned as well to "love his neighbor as himselfj as God with all his heartand, "to do unto others as he would have others do unto him." A Behold him ! God holds him up to your view as tho model after which he proposes to fashion you. That glory and a share in Hull dominion, shal| reward a life of humble piety. Behold him ! and tell mc, young man, if thai exaltation, thai glory, is not worth all and marc than all, you can do oc suffer in his cause on earth to win. Can that image bo engraven on usl May we wear the same honors, and share that glory 1 " Unto him that ovcrcometh will I give to sit down with me in my throne, as I have overcome, and am seated with my Futhcr in his throne." The throne awaits you; come then and yield yourselves to the Lord Jesus, iind lie will make you sharers with himself for a while in tho work of renovating tho world, and then crown you kings and priests unto God for e»er. For " they that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars forever and ever." They shall "enter into the joy of their Qur minds ore generally bo dull and sluggish, that tliey intist bo goailed on like tlic lazy ox, under the keen lash of school discipline, and stimulated and fcxeited by ihe influence of class mate rivalry, in order to overcome their subtleness and inactivity. VVo need them to arouse us lo thought. But discipline and strength are acquired by the exercise they elicit, not from ihe lash they inflict ni Dre than in the structure of our minds, mid in our processes of thought, and mn"n-mr of acting nnCI model at expression.— Every one has liis own poculrai itic:-, which he cannot exchange for those ol another. TIioku peculiarities arc so hiany lines which' nature has drawn between man and rmn, and « liioh separate one from another, and divide the riDce into individuals f"or this unhappy state of intellectual intercourse, female education is in too great a degree adapted. A large class art taught less to think thun to shino. If they glider, it matters little whether it be the glitter of gilding or of gold. To bo accomplished is of more interest than to be sen blblo. It is of more consequence to this class to charm by the tones of a piano, than to delight and invigorute by intellectual conversation. The effect is reciprocally bad. /.n absurd education disqualifies them for intellectual exertiotl, and that very disqualification perpetuates the dogradati on. I say degradation, for the word is descriptive of the fact. A captive is not the leu truly bound because his chain is maje of silver and studded with rubies. lira, oud constitute the recognizable indicw of every person's identity. It isiru", "indeed, that wo may with facility modify these peculiarities, hut we cannot obliterate them. And, in the general, the more extensively we cultivato. and. develop our natures, the greater their prominence, and the mare boldly.I hey stand out upon us.— Tlr.it is a little, an uncultivated man, who clothes himself in the dress of another's thoughts, and style, and manner. He may J D Upon originality of siylo and manner, I iced not dituin your attention; lor whoever is original in thought, will be so in its com mimical ion. It you create a new stream, you must prepare it a new channel; and whoever u'tcrs new sentiments, must Uo il in a new style* A well disciplined, and strictly original mind can never bo a copyist. \Ve should, it is true, study the best specimens of writing and oratory—as we should read books to obtain ideas and odd to our mental treasures—not to Ictirn another's style and manner for the purpose of imitating it, but to obtain materials for constructing one of our own. Polish nature as highly os possible, but do not attempt its annihilation. Let nature still remain. Young minds are often strongly inclined to imitate in style ond manner those who please them, and excite their admiration. The secret of that admiration and pleasure which they so highly excite and delightfully sustain is, that such persons possess the hnppy art of throwing their souls right out into their language and manner, and expressing along with their sentiments alt the varying shades and degrees of their emotions and feelings, which those sentimenis inspire. They think clearly, ond feel deeply, while their feelinss perfectly correspond with their tho'ts, and their language and manner are so natural to them, and so fitly chosen toexpress their ideas and emotions, os that they cannot be mistaken or misapprehended.— They are a transparent medium through which wo look right into their minds, and mark all their woikings, and kindle with the glow and warmth of their feelings.— Their style and manner are to their minds, what tho light of the sun is to that,mnjestio orb, liio medium through which they aro seen. And if wo had their souls, their thoughts and emotions, their style and manner would bofit us. But these wo cannot have ; we must have our own thoughts and emotions, nnd if we express The intellectual education of females is certaid* ly not what it ought lo be, or what it might ba.— Some waste their hours over "grammar books,'' and "geography books," and lesson books,"— over Latin, sometimes, and Greek ; anil, if the remark can be adventured on, over stitching and hemming tod. Something must be itmlss when a girl is kept two or three hours every day in acquiring the urt of sewihg. What that something is, — whather it is ptacticed like parsing, because it is common, or because more accurate proficiency is expected than reason would prescribe, I presume not to determine ; but it may safely be concluded that if a portion, equal to a fourth of a third part of the years which are afforded to that mighty subject, the education of the human mind, is devoted to the acquisition of ono manual art like this—more is devoted than any one who reasons upon the subject can justify. Lord." sparkle and (lame like a meteor, and delight and astonish mere surface gazers for awhile, hut it is.only the fitful gleam of ilm meteor's flash, which consumes itself iii jts own blaze. Uulike him, the original, the cultivated man, stands before the public goze, like a fixed star in the hoavens glowing in its own unwaisliiig light. The cultivated man i*, nnd must be original ; for it is only by being original, that is, thinking for himself, ilmt he can becomo cultivated. Me may read books, learn lessons from them, gain ideas, but these will not yield him extensive menial improvement, i'or substantial profit, unless he accompanies his reading with reflection and study, .liy reading we learn the author's thoughts upon the subjcct on which ho treats, but nothing more. By study we learn the justness or inaccuracy, the truihor falsity, of them. Ilis sentiments and ideas, to be sure, are our», or may be if we will receive them. He has written them for the public, and thrown th«m out broadcast up. on the world ; and it there is light nnd truth in them, we have a right to collcct and store them away among our own intellectual treasures, This we can do, however, only by scanning, weighing, pondering them, and impressing them will) the mould of our own minds, and stamping their image upon them. Mr. Colton, in the preface to his Lacon, remarks, " If we can advanceany propositions that are both A Good Wick.—A good wile is one who puts her husband in at the ?ide of the bed next to the wall, and tucks him in to keep him warm in the winter—splits the wood—makes the fire in the morning—washes her husband's face and draws on his boots for him—never Buffers a rent to remain in his smallclothes—keeps her shoes up at the heel, and her stockings darned—never wonders what her husband sees interesting in the young woman who lives across the v»ay—never slams the door when her husband is speaking— and always reproves the children when they eat up their father's supper. It is said that a chemist has invented a substitute for tobacco. It is made of guano, and will doubtless soon supersede the weed, as it is just as good, and cheaper. If then we were wise enough to regard women, and if women were wiso enough to regard themselves with that real practical respect to which they are entitled, and if the education they recei« ved was such as that icspcct would dictate, w« might hereafter have occasion to say, not as it i» now said, that in "England women are queens," but something higher and greater ; we might saythat in everything social, intellectual and religiou* they were fit to co-operate with man, and to cheer and assist him in his endeavors to promote hi« own happinoss, and the happiness of his family, his country, and the world.— The Guardian, ——  Mas. Partington is visiting Pittsburg, is stopping in the rhubaibs of the city. She Judicial Wit.—It Is told of Lord Norbury, that when pnssing sentcncc of death upon a man for stealing a watch, he said to the culprit: " My good fellow, you ma jo a grasp at time, bat-you caught eternity." We note in a cotemporary's column, the advertisement of a lady for a husband. " None need apply under six feet." Whew! but the lady goes in ferociously for Hy-men. " Mi," said a young lady to her mother the other day, " what is emigrating 1" '■ Emigrating, dear, is a young lady going to Aastralia." "What is colonizing, ma 1" " Colonizing, tfenr, is marrying there and having a family." "Ma, I sho'd like to go to Australia.'1 A Journey takes off tho irritability produced by long confinement to our round of duties.— When you return, you wonder how theso little malle'ls could have troubled you so much. true nnd new, these arc indisputably our own by right of discovery. And if wo can repent what is ofil more briefly and