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[For-tho York [leg-pimp: N I GII'l‘ STORM, BY crsru, A I hear the storm without. tirin 'wait i S oop-unock’t till its fury abate, And morn come out her golden gate. As when the Eagles swoop from Alpine height With rushing sound ; or Arabs delight TroOp o’er the plains on horses whiteâ€"- AUROR‘A AND" RICHOND; ; HILL 1 ADV v VVâ€"vw '-"‘;‘\ ,V «V/vrv-x, ~J\ r~.r\/~\/x./ -2 v V, \/‘\m \unl' v \4 \/\/ VW/W‘x/v \rJW\f VWWW Iva x- “0.”. ovuuusu M ’I‘oofy. Esq «w-‘ .4, . our. MM WWW d u. E ' AND ._ ADVERTISER. ~ - r;U‘ .. , . , MW "Wm n‘ ,\_,\,, .\_,\,\J\VVV maid that riieansi without this must faiqu' . .. Now, by ‘tl’lts'm'tghty’povt’er fvhich r , .must lie at the root‘of allâ€" civiliz:r-~ â€" tiorf,’-ari.digivc vitality toall gummy .«4 ed to promote it, wcsimply under- stand'the moralrtruth 0t Godâ€"that truth by which man is taughtdor 1’ .3. love and obey his Maker...and bywy wvhich he is taught to do.just~ice to" in all'the relations ' his fellow~men in which he stands to them, and even to exercise towards them a, ,: wise love,.forbearance and charity. “ Let Sound Reason weigh more with us t/zahifl’olnil'ar Opinion.” Cirrhosis) prism, . ALEX. sooTI‘, Proprietor. TERMS $1,,5o'1'n Adyanee. NW1. 5.1.7 In a Word, the morality‘that we plead foranthe grand civilizing power is thatfiwhich inakesa mint ,3 like God in his moral sentiments and feelings, and leads him to act to. iyvards hisffellowmeu as God acts to- A; Wards all his creatures. ' Speltfin influence as this would ~â€"â€"â€"-&â€"' Old'Boress marshalls all his crested hos‘t, And at the sound, as of a ghost, The child shut-r his eyes tearful most. w rhwflw -4 A..._ _._. "Vol. “Livo. in l FRIDAY, Faeries.“ s, leer. Whole NojoVe-hurl’d shafts gleam in tlieinidnightbky V But‘Earth in awhile r-hroud doth lie, loved queen,Wilkattcnd to them ; further ,try “to dissuade you, but I steed to a quicker“ gun as he spoke ;.I shield you from his power, whoever,Itzat‘ro'n'fi Bot {f they‘bc not proofs ' and she will, I'ui'tltcr‘, have the aid of would cannon you“ regarding the 'hut I most hurry on'and get out of he may be. ‘ ’ of Civilization, it may be askcdhvhat And Azraol, sword~arin’d, goes by 1- _ r I . . . y I your sage counsel.’ perils which endirort you, and which the forest ere the night approaches. ‘ Iou ?’ in surpr se spoke‘McDou‘ = then are they proofs of? Ixanliwer V t The snowscapt hills towers the storm king [rears in? * Anon sea-birds scream, and brmakorsdash so Tho giant trdos drop icy tears, ~ . And shake their shriVen arms like spears, Nigh Ocean’s wrockful shore ships freight'd ,glido . Slfoto a heaven’s peaceful side. 01' on the turbid bilows ride. wild _ _ , That “ Peace ” utters no hopeful mild, Bntrwrcck on wreck my mind has ,‘ril’d. Shrill whistles the wild refrain, and as’t shakes 'I‘hr-oi Waut's scant door, how chilly quakes rho ill-clash’d form till the cloud breaks 3 ' At that wild wall. I fell to silent prayer For hearts that bled along life’s way, Hoping. like me, for lightof day Ero‘vvhile the son of 'I‘oil, full weary, sleeps ‘ * Osi. still his tireless vigil hoops, And calms his troubled breast that “loops, The dark-wing’d brood of Passiou’s stormy will Flutter o’erhesdâ€"to phetic till Break the colorful words : “ I’eadeâ€"be still 2” r So;',‘ who could bear uuwrc-ck't life's stormy doom, ' ' Bid not His love-wing thro’ the gloom, Como. Weft . tomb ? Thou Sorrow’s cloud, health Ilis touch, grows bright ; i' i As darduess shows us world; of light our peace-branch o’er Hope‘s The day would never bring to sight. The storm may rage without, but 0, my soul, "fi’rayer-nltchor’d ’rrnd wild waves’ roll, Safely does glide into the goal! February, 5, 1860. 3,. ,.i lttfttlut't. ' ,. '. z'. :t:‘.'.:_':_m HENRY STUART ; Trillium Home vellum. BY GEORGE A BANCROF'I‘. . l " ‘ CHAPTER l.-â€"â€"Tur. Krs'o AND 'ruE Punmcu. “ WHAT thought of deep and plea- sant import occupies the mind of His Majesty, that, for so long a, period, he forgets the presence of his friend, and stands-there with his" eyes fixed on vacancy, his head bcnt‘ towards the earth, and his whole appearance denoting him to be; in realms of fancy, more pleasant per- haps than even .the dreams of cru- pircs'l’ asked the Lord of Lurnley of his friend and companion, the young and handsome Lord Drirulcy --â€"thc husband of the beautiful Mary Queen of Scotsâ€"and, as such, the King of Scotland’s throne, upon a bright and beautiful morning in au' tumn of the your 1565. The two, something more than an hour previously, had left tltc pte~ the reply of Lumley. c‘incts of the palace, at IIolyt'ood, and were now standing together in close proximity to its front entrance; where, after a period spent in .I‘ght and pleasant Words, Darnlcy had fallen into a meditative moodâ€"from which, however, the recent speech of his friend awakened him. -‘Alil Lumley, what say you 7.’ ’ returned the king, as he raised his Ixcad and turncd‘towards him. “ l-Vl'ht did I say I Is it possible that your rnajcsty’s wits have gone wool gathering l’ ' ‘ Excuse my forgetfulness. l have been thinkingâ€"l q ‘I know you have. I have been watching you some minutes.’ ‘A bright idea has entered my mind.’ I ‘ Indeed, thath news! A [new idea is a thing of such rare occur» fence thatâ€".3 i ‘A truce to your interruptions,’ spoke Darnlcy. ‘ As I was going tofsay, a bright thought has just come into my mind.’ ' fls it a whimsical, idle one, or is itconcerning some affair of state 'I’ asked Lumley. ‘l’sha-w ! it is nothing to do with affairs of state! But why do you ask 'I’ - ‘Excusc me, your majesty ; but really you are so given to indulging in odd, eccentric fancies, that I could no: but think this was one of themr’ ‘IBelicve me, Lumley, Ishall never select you to write my merits or de- meritsâ€"~rny virtues or my frailties. But. listen. To day being an idle one with meâ€"â€"â€"’ ‘An idle onci’ questioned Lum- lcy’. . " Yes,’ responded Darnley, ‘ I choose to make it onc.’ , l I ‘ But your majesty forgets the messengers from Elizabeth oftling- Ianrl.’ fNo; his majesty forgets nothing of'thc kind. But ’ what care I for them 'l Besidss, Mary, our well‘bg. . r‘ I‘perceive your majesty is inclined - x, ‘ Ihave a mind to refuse revealing to be 'ifacctiou‘s. Nevertheless, go on. ,VVhat is the purport of the, brilliant thought you have jtist cou- jured upg?’ U I it to you,’ said KiriglI‘Icnry, the lat- ter being the Christian name of Dorrie; and Henry Stuait, King. of Scotland. ‘ Buthaving alluded to it, and want- ing a confidante, and knowingjrf- no better"0ne than my friend Lumley, I will tell you.“ I must,~lmw::vcr, have your promise of secrecy. _ ‘ You have- it. But. go, on. [' warrant it concerns some lovely m'ai‘denrof the lower orders, and that you a‘reégoiug off in search ofadvcn- turc.’~ ~ .r ? '? - ' ‘ So far you "are right,’ r'answcred Darn’lcy.‘ ‘ To proceed. You may remember, tWo Weeks since, her ma- jcsty the queen, yourself and me, with our r'ctiuue, tnr‘ried 'allniglit at the inn of the ‘IIiIt and (Jlayniorc,~ whichplacc is some twenty miles distant, to the north of our good city of Edinburghâ€"it being our last stop- ping place, on our return from: the highlands.’ . , ‘ Yes, I have not certainly forgot- arc liable‘to cost you even your life.” ‘I'shallbe ,r-arcful Lundey ;,b'ut )l‘ my horse and me may. bevobliged to battle with the ravenous wolves breathe not a w’ordof this matter to, infosting t-hiswrcgion.” the queen," ' ‘I \“{.il net ;. i will. be discreet,” was the answer, i ' 1 ‘ And ,now, . Lurnley,’ Said ~Darn‘ ' Nitme it your Majesty." ‘lt' is this. something of the sort, and have it ready for me within an hour, at the tavern of the Crow and the Chris- tian.” I shall there procure a horse, and when, with your aid, I am’suit- any attired, I shall there taltc‘nrny leave of you.’ ‘ » ‘ ‘ Your Majesty’s ,yv‘ishes shall be attended to with all possible dis-- ipatvh,’ said Lumleyf ‘ Still I would faih ask the pt'ivrlcge ofaCL'ompany- ing you.’ “It. cannot be: the queen will need your presence.’ ‘ ' A few more werds and the two separated ; Dnrnlcy to enter the palace to seek, for "a few minutes, his lovely queen, and Lumley to meet the Lord of Lcnuox who was approaching him from another part of the paIaCc grounds. 19“ ‘1 “H‘CUMSl‘mCO' 5° “de ‘0 be I Ctlhll't‘lfilt II.â€"A THRILLING INCIDENT. kcpt'in‘ remembrance.’ . ‘ Do you remember seeing the fair young daughter of Andrew Elliott, the publicanâ€"llie fair Mary, the‘ maid of the inn 'I’ 4 . ‘ I do,’ was the answer. " I’cau'ght several glimpses of“ her that night, and could not help noticingthat you looked upon her as though itiol‘e than ordinarily interested." " W ‘ "l'is even so.’ , I ‘ __ ‘ Your majesty certainly dUCJS not intend indulging in an intrigue in that quarter, and so soon, too, after your marriage with Queen Mary 2' . ‘ No, I would not harm the mai- d'cn in thought ordccd,’ said Henry Stuart. ‘ She is good and beautiful, I think and no word of mine shall 'evcr induce her to tour from' the path of honor.’ ’ .' ‘~I am happy to hear your majesty give utterance to such sentiments. She is fair, and lovely, and virtuous ; and should be somethingr more than. a country bar-maid; should be in association with others of a different nature than her old rogue of a par- entâ€"as I take IIIIU to .bc.‘ ‘ Think you he is a roguel’ One hour subsequently, ,within one of the pri'nte apartments of the" Crow and the Christian. Lord Lum- Iey and the King of. Sentlnnd rnct. Succeeding in his endeavors to pro‘ cure a_Suitablc costume for Darnley, Lumley lost notirne in producing it, and in assisting to attire his majesty. Seen the, somewhatrough toilet of Again he became silent and rode swiftly i on: just. as. the All ides ."of night began to appear, reaching the l I d l. , .d ,uear neighborhood of the ‘ Kilt and 9."; ‘ “'UUI . 31"" ."UU U “l0 a the Clnyn’iore.’l ' Icy, who was kuowrr by the titles of faVor.’ " ' ‘ ‘ Lord of Dar-ulcy, Duke ot. Albany, A short distance from the inn be checked the career o‘fhls steed, dis- ) . , . , ‘ . . . . , 1,“).‘4U1‘1 mime the mounth , and led him Into the wood cOmpIctc disguise of a ploughboy,or Skgmug one side of up, mad. keep up his assumed character he thought it better to approach the inn and enter as a foot traveller.â€" I’Ience the reasonof his leading his Steed into what he considered a se- cure place in the wood, believing no one WOuld trouble him until he again returned. Having securely fastcncd his bridle rein to the limbola ,trce, he left him, and in a few minutes again regained the road. Then once more he pushed on for the inn. He had arrived quite near to it when he was suddenly startled by the abrupt springing forward ofsorue person close to his ‘side. It was quite. dark, and the surrounding scenery could but indistinctly‘ be seen. Nevertheless, as he took a step backward, he instantly caught the gleam af abright Weapon in the builds of an intruder, rnenacingvrais- ed in the act to strike. Quick as the lightning’s flash he caught the descending blade. and being young, lithe and active, as well as strong, in an instant, almost, he wrcsted it from the would be assassin’s grasp, at the some mo- ment dcxterously tripping the heels of the hostile persOnagc, : and the King was finished, and to the tperfcct satisfaction of both, Eulnlcy declaring that even the queen, or the most" acute of the conrliers, would fail torccognize his majesty in the presentgarb. ' ‘ Look I not the very pic‘nre ofa Scottish ploughboy .7! asked Darnley as he awkwardly walked across the apartmcntwa gr'snuim: smile up- It . was indeed a merry King, a jo- vial, witty, Iaughtcr-Ioving personâ€" age. although the highest in the realm. ‘ What 81)" you my Lord of Lurnley l’ ‘ You do indeed,’ was the re- sponse given ; ‘nud l-doubt not. if you are discreet, you Will pass through all the dangers you may r causing him to full heavily upon his back. H ‘ Assassin! what means this cowardly act, and upon a strangerl' exclaimed Darnley, as he leaped upon him, and placed his knee upon his breast. ‘ Was it yourintchtion to rob me 7.’ V ‘l _, ‘ No.’ gasped 'tlle ‘ prostrate ruf-‘ ian, struggling violently, but with; Out avail. ' vociferalcd the king. the reply. person.7 ‘ His name 'I' ‘ You do not know him, therefore I need not tell it.’ I ‘ n. l _ true liberty is. . zation'. ‘What then was your intention l’ .Th'e slave-trader, the gambler and gall. ’ '-‘ ‘vVI'lat’nt‘c you but a plough- mau‘l- How are you powerful or rich l' To be continued. [For the York Herald. I wrm'r ’ClVlLlZA’I‘lONt 1. Tennis is a great diversity of opi- nions concerning the nature, as_wcll as criuccrning the causes which pro- duccrit Ilowinauy have talked of liberty and even fought for it, without any definite notion of what Just so with civiIiâ€"' Many speak and Write ‘on this subject without nnv definite notion ofiiis essential elements, its true benefits, the means for prelud- ‘Thcs’c, indeed, are the persons who most loudly boast of the glory of'our affirming that'nothing more is ne- cessary to turn our world into a paradise titan its universal diffusion. Many suppose that civilization consists in the great accumulation of wealth among a people. No mistake can be greater than this, that wealth in its rude materiality, or in its more refined commercial forms, can of itself either produce or preserve civilization. Except with the insane rniscr, wealth is but a means to ends; but in order to lbrm a correct estimate of its influ- ence, two questions require to be settled. First. How is wealth ac- quired; and, secondly, how is it employed? The fact is, more wealth of a certain kind may- be a proof of barbarism, and may tend ‘ Idirectly to barbariz’e its possessors. Even among ourselves ‘every- rich man is not a civilized man : and we know that the riches of many have been employed, not only to debase themselves, but also to degrade Others. Extreme poverty rnav be connected with hopeless barbarism} but wealth of itself is neither the cause nor the evidence of civilization. the sn'ruggler, may amass wealth, “I was mistaken in the man,’ was , but are they, therefore, refined and ‘lt was not you I in» civilized: or are they the civilizers tended to strike, but a far different of others, either” in the methods by which they gain their wealth, or in their manner of spending it. Wealth getten at the expense of conscience, or the Well-being of our ing it, or the causes of its ilecay.â€"â€": modern civilization, ‘and are everI combined with great wealth' and physical 'pr)wc“r, by which true-go: nius could work out its own designs. found to exist among at people, the i. gthcrnsclvcs civilization. An artifi- often acquired by men .who had little ‘head, less‘hcart and no conscience, inot always the gentleman, far less the man of high principles and hon- ,orable sentiments. Besides, what 'is considered the best manners by one people, is often laughed at as childish folly by another: It is readily granted that a certain refinement of manners gives to so- crcty the outer and lrghter graces, which, although in their place useful and very agreeable, yet they must the‘ want ot'vtllcm as a preofof bar- barity. Neither is literature ‘of‘rl certain kind any evidence-of itself ofthe true civilization of a people. 5 It is true savage nations cannot'pt‘o- ' duce a literature of a high orders-'â€" This can only be the product of a people who think much and feel deeply. Yet it would be an error to suppose that a condition ofs‘ociety favorable to the growth of genius, must necessarin be highly civilized. lnde :(l a poet ol'crcative geni‘uswill find many of his materials among a peOple vigorously rude, not only in "manners and in thought. but even in morals; ' A great poet must be sin-- gulnrlyggifted with an eye to ob- serve, anrl'powers to describe truly what? he» sees. It is, however, a mistake to suppose that a country which has produced‘a few men of great genius has been, on the whole, civilized. Society, according to many, is to , be regenerated, and indeedsaved by ctvrlrzatron. By the sole influence of this all wars are to end, slavery and oppression in every form is to be put down ; and, in short, all poverty vice and misery, to be driven from the earth. \Ve do not deny that wealth. taste, genius and literature &c., are elements of civilization, but we certainly cannot admit that, any of them is civilization, or that all of. of great genius and pride in a few; [But this condition of things mav be .' a , ' *atcr part of whom maybe in a. very lowrcondition, botlrmtellectu': ' ally and morally. ~- _- ' . Neither are polished mannersof, cial rclincmert of manners has been Henceyour surfaceipplislted man. jg: ,not beregarrlcd as civilization, nor lpctig upon his merry features. for meet with.’ ‘ Tell me the reason ofthis hostile fellow-men, is tainted with an essen- ‘The Villuitmus CUE Of his CGUH‘ ‘ Who would not be, freed for 2 tenanCC.Am’ldlllcfilnlsml' IOUk "I, Ills time from the trarnmels of court en» (1,1,1, and ueg eye would at oncelquctte "I IIcy Lumlevi \Vhy live if alllwsl “Will’le “val W “i 3‘ .35 not to enjoy life! I tell you Lornâ€" ‘I saw something of hini,’ said l Do as you-do. vie-w... whimiscal one. I intend visiting that inn to-night, alone, and in dis- guise.~ ‘ Disguised and alone 'I' You will not scriouly think of such a mild un- dertakirg.’ ‘I am resolved upon it. I shall secure a steed, and set out shortly,in order to arrive there by nightfall leaving you to inform the" queen _of my absence from the cityâ€"not .of my whereaboutsâ€"and to excuse my absence for the day in the best man ne’r you are able,’ ‘ . But the idea [have in "But you forget thcjdangers you‘- are Subject to,’ said Lumley. ‘ No, I do ‘not.’ ‘ But you are surrounded by =jca-' ‘ Therefore you should be" careful -â€"â€"you should have attendance.’ ‘ But 7 I" wish none, I will have none} ‘ Oh" if you say so.’ 'I shall be disguised. you know.’ ‘ But if you are-recognised'l’ ‘I may, and I may not be. I care. not rfI am. What pleasure is there in an adventure unattended wrth llous cnernics.’ \ ‘ know I am.’ nection with the publican’s daughter? ‘My business is partly with the publican, and partly with the fair Mary. gate.’ ‘ Indeed, may ,I inquire what. it isl' ‘Yes. but I cannot inform you neverthel‘cs‘s,’ answered Darnley.â€"-â€"- "I‘his much, however, I wilI say, I overheard words between Elliott and another, which leads me to‘susâ€" post that which I would fain get a further knowledge of.' I have a mystery to investiâ€" “ll-0}", ‘ 311d [dislike him “S‘mU‘Th...quailingly upon It. is perhaps,” a foolish, Icy, I feel lightenihippier, proudcr, more I'kc the eagle that looks un- the sun, in this poor peasant garb, than if attired in the costliest ermine or cloth ol"gr‘)lrl that levc.’ apparclled the form of mortal Ikititr." l 'Scntimcnt and hilarity mingled l’ ‘ And now summon mine host. I am in haste to be rnoutted and on the road.’ ' A Servant brought the innkcepcr ; and, soon after, the steed of Darnlcy Was announced as in readiness. Giving the pu‘bliCan his due, the Ikiug then bade Lumley farewell for. the day, mounted his steed and rode ,swiftly away from Scotland’s fair lcnptlal. , . I ~ ‘ Here I am, fairlyupon a journey, the end of which not even the wis- cst can forescc,’ solrloquized Darn. Icy, as he rode along through the country beyond the borders of Edin- burgh. ‘ And for“ ‘u hat? merely to gratify a whim, Imust confess. And yet, I cannot tell why, I feel more titan commonly interested in the young Mary Elliott, and also in her parent. I have a desire to Elrnow more of tliem. Perhaps their was nothing serious in the words which .v lA companion say. I heard hut‘littlc and could .I have heard more Imight have banished all suspicion. I. will now, quessI soon receive further k n a i'c.’ be the King of Scotland, attired as ' in these quaint liabilliamcnts I’ again he went on, rather in thought than speech. ' ‘ Who would take me for other than a country clown, moun- ted th ugh I am on a stout and able charger No one. ’Tis the cloth, the appearance, after all, that makes the man, belie cilnc-t', gentleman or brave. Ha! ha l but how Mary ‘ Very well; of, course your Ma- would smile to see me in this unique jesty knows-how to keep your own costumeâ€"that is, if she should know ocunSol,1 said'Lumlcy. ‘I will not‘mc. But,”|vtd lie spurred on his a 5.1 {mil and powerful, and ' can irth a: decisive proofs of'high civi- dangcr.’ ‘ Bull would not understand why you would go at all l Is it in con- i * orcrheard the publican and his. icause to believe him a false, disloyall ‘ Whonow would suppose me t0: falltlbfli.’ S'dld Damlcys as he 8","5P'3d tial curse, for which neither a selfish lllc ma“ by ll"? ll‘mm' ' I Will “0‘ 'pruderrce nor political economy has [’9 J'Jgs’lcd W'lhl Explam to mel It is true the curse that this ‘mystcry, or your life is not worth the purchase of an hour.â€" You are in the power of one with whom it is vain to struggle.’ And as he finished he released the ruf- fian’s throat. I ' Let me rise up and I’ll tell you everything.’ said the prostrate vil- com- lien, Leginniug to fear the rising anger of Darnley. ‘ There get up ; you are free,’ said the king, arising frOm the pro- strate form oftire ruflian. ‘ But be ware of attempting any treacherous movements l’ ‘ The man slowly arose, and stand? 'ing tremblineg before him, he tacitly owned to be his conqueror. ‘ Ar’rdnow your name 7.’ question- ed Darnlcy. ‘ Donald McDougaIl.’ ‘ A goodly name for a person with such a cut-throat looking Visage.â€" Now inform me why you thus at? ttcniptcd my life? Speak truly or falsely so can I reward or punish." ‘ As I’ve told you, I took you for another who was to pass this way, and who something resembled you, at Icastlin the darkness. ‘ "But your object in thus seeking the life of a fellow creature? Vtht revengeful motive led you on? ‘ No motive of revenge.’ “What then l’ ‘ Money prompted me to do the act. I was employed by another.’ ‘ And money led you to seek the brand of Cainâ€"«lo bear the curse of the murderer ‘l’ interrogated the dis- guised king, who was Iookcd’upon by h’Ic'DougalI as only a farmer’s son ‘ Yes.’ _ ‘And Who was your employer? What is the name of the coward, who, fearful of doing a murder him-- self, yet would hire another 'I’ ‘ And if I tell you, and turn against him, how can I escape his wrath 'l’ I _ . ‘ You should have moral courage sufficient to dely such a» man, and not to allow you'sclf to be such a slave,’ returned Darnley. I ‘ But I any cure. Iaccompanics ill-gotten wealth’may Inot at once be apparent. in individuals ‘or communities ;' yet, it is certain lto overtake both in the long "run. - 1 Neither do great splendour and elegance, or great proficiency in certain ofthe arts,- constitule civill- Zntion. Wh n' the human mind reaches a certain stage of develop. ment and refinement, it naturally seeks to embody its ideas in material beauty and grandeur. Now when this is done according .to principles of correct taste, much I may be accomplished topromote ex ternai improvement and to embel- lish social life ; yet. it is not civili- zation. No doubt a true civilization will adorn its borne with works of artâ€"for it will seek the beautiful and grand, as well as the useful, But it must not belforgptten that some of the grandest and most exquisite ‘works of art were produccd’iu times of great barblrism. It Would Show. a sad ignorance of history to sup- pose that when some of the most Wenderful buildings of Rome were erected, the peeple of that city were in a high sense civilized. It is well known that some of the finest edi- ftces of ancient Rome were erected chiefly forthe .gladiator‘ial shows. Thousands of Romans, women as well as men,took their places in these splendid buildings to witness slaves or vanquished captives inhumanly butcher one another. No truly ci- vilized people could have looked without horror on the scenes which [were enaCted in those theatres, which art,science and labor had done them combined constitute it. It is time, however, that we should trv directly to meet the question? ' What is civilization 3 Civriization. then, as to its essential elements, consists in the conscience and Intel- lect‘ofa people thorougth cultivat- ed, and the intellect in all cases act- ing under the direction of an enâ€" lightened conscience : or to change the figure. it is the central power which produces or directs all the other powers that civilize men. Civilization must begin within, or there can be no fruits of it without. A Well regulated consr'icnce is that alone which can regulate the pas» sions and appetites, and the outward conduct of man. Those who have labored most successfully to elevate mankind, whether among the barba- rous Hottentots, or among the out- casts of London or Glasgow, enter- tain no doubt on this point. The civilization of a nation must begin with the moral reformation, and the. intellectual elevation of the indivi-. duals who compose it; and it will advance only in proportion as, sound principles and pure morality prevail. -The first and principal tlting,then, is that to secure a true and durable civilization, the mind must be well instructed, and imbucvl with a divrne moraTity. \Vhile we maintain that adivine morality is the basis and” safeguard. of civilization, we do not affirm that nothing more is neces- sary for its full development. There can be no civilization without the cultivation of conscience; but the exercise of reason in connection with conscience is indispensany necessary for its perfection. A peoplevthat reasons well and wisely their utmost to make them'beautiful mus” be a C‘V'l‘zedl’eollle- and attractive. The same is true of some of the finest produmions of the pencil. When Michael Angelo was producing those works which have rendered his name imlmortal, and which still excite the highest admiâ€" ration, it is well known that the ‘lgreat mass‘ of his countrymen Were very‘rude and uncultivated. Yet, \men'are‘ e-ver' ready to point to 'splcndid buildings and'grcat paint- ' The Egyptians and Greeks were more civilized than others in ancient ltimes, because, on the whole, vsise and profound reasOncrs. wherever we find a high civilization in modern times, it is where reason is tn‘luenced by an enlightened conscience. It has been shiku that many things may contribute to civi- ,lization, if they are all thprougnly Iir’ifluenced by a. pure morality ; |but then we think it has also been And true civilization, if. men brought to resemble in their moral best of Beings- . . But if men-williyield themselves ofjall confusion, degradation and greait-end,~of their existence. .But vainly suppose that. they ,may serve other have, an earthly milleri,ium.--_- Although men may become so dc. Iuded underthe influence of sin, as,” will in the end produce their natu- DONALD CAMERON, Richmondllill, Feb. 5, 1861. ' A Sunccos’s ADVENTUBc.--A Singu- crime is here. There are ‘a few Well authé been restored to consciousness after having suffered at the hands of the hangman. interior provinces of France, was placed in the aGI‘VICCOf a man depraved by all the vices of that corrupted metropolis. Smit- ten with her charms, he attempted her ruin, but was unsuccessfpl. Incenscd at bis-de- feat Itedeteiyiincd on revenge, and in furs her trunk articles belonging to him and rnarked'witb'his name. IL: then denounc-. ed her to a magistrate, who caused her to be arrested, and the missing articles being to trial. . In defence she could only assert property came into her t,rurlk,‘and protest performed, it being the first attempt of the executioner’s son. The body was deliver- ed into the hands of a surgeon, by whom, it: sect it, when be perceived a slight Warmth about the heart. By the prompt use of preper remedies he restored the suspended animation. fortunate girl opened her eyes she suppos- ed herself in another world, and addressing» the priest (who was a man of m'rrkeyd undoubtedly-tendio’ elevate and 115;, 'fine,_and this wouldwrtainly bethc," , were _. veyed it Irome, and was proceeding to de- , ness and true elevation which ,_is_ the“, to call darknesslight and confusion L order, vet darknessand confusion raliresults, debssement and misery. 3, lar romarict: connected with the history of euticatcd instances ofcrimi‘nals who have i In :Parls. in 1795, a young girl of'very"_‘ preposessiug appearance, from one ofthe" therance of.his design, secretly placed in i" found in her possession, she was brought her ignorance of the manner in which the her innocence. She was found guilty,,and . the sentence of death was pronounced upon her. The haugrnan’s oflice was im-flicieutly , had been purchased. He immediately con: ' In the meantime he had sent: ’ for a trustworthy priest, and when the- un-"3' countenance) exclaimed: “ Eternal Father! . you know my innocence; have pity on me I’ In her simplicity, believing she behold her Maker, she continued to sue for mercy, and it was some time before she realized she was ir. the land of the Iivrng. The surgeon and priest being fully convinced of her innocence, she retired to a village far, distant from the scene of her punishment.- '.I‘he community subsequently became ac- quainted with her story, and the authorof her misery became an object of ' contempt through it does not appear that any attempt was made to bring him to iusticc. PRIDE 1ND VANITY.â€"-Tltc virtues: are economists, but some of the ‘viccs are also. Thus, next to humility, 'I hava noticed that pride is a pretty" good husband. A good pride is,,al, I reckon, it, Worth live to fifteen, hundred a year. Prideis handsome: economical, pride erad‘icates so many vices, letting none subsist but itself}... that it seems as if it were againto, exchange vanity for pride. Pride can go without domestics, without fine clothes, can live in a house with two rooms, can eat potatoes, purslain“ beans, Iyed corn, can Work; on the soil, can travel afoot, can talk with poor men, ot sit silent “’EII-COIHBHI“ ed in fine saloons. But vanity costs money, labour, horses,-men, wanton.“ health, and peace, and is' stiill no- ,ihing at last, a long way leading no- Where. Only one drawback; proud.- peoplc are intolerany selfish, and. the vain are gentle and giving. STUDY THE Racerâ€"A story is told of a great French satirisl, which finely illus- trates his knowledge of human nature. He was travelling in Germany, in entire ignore ance of its language and currency. ,Having obtained some small change for some of his French coins, he used to pay Coachmen and others in ,the following manner :â€"--« Taking a handful of the unmismatical specimens from his pocket, he.counted ' them oneby one into the creditors hands keeping his eye fixed on the receiver’s face. As soon as be perceived the least twinkle of a smile Ire tool: back the last coin depositedrin the hand, and returned it,‘ with the remainder, to his pocket. He afterwards found that, in, pursuing this method, he had not overpaid for anything, if it qualities. and acts the 'grcatest...aud. l '2 t toyhis‘ influence, who is the author.“ misery, howcan they expect, under, his dominiOn,_-to attain that happij, y. such is the folly of men, that they», the devil in pursuing all _wickedg,; courses, and yet in some way or...