1:31 - HENRY J. STAIILE.
38 T " YEAR.
TERMS OF THE COMPILER.
The Republican Cumpiler is published
every Monday mornincr b , by Ilssav J. STAIILE,
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yoffice on South Baltimore street, direct
ly opposite W ampler's Tinning Establishment,
one and a half squares from the Court House.
From the Warren (N. J.) Journal.
Jonathan's Reply, in-Verse, to John Bull's
Boasting in the London Times.
I wonder, John, if you forget, some eighty
years ago, .
'When we were very young, John, your head
was white as snow,
You didn't count us much. John, and thought
to make us run,'
but found out your mistake, JOhn, one day at
Lexington.
And. when we 'asked you in, John, to take a
Cup of tea.
Made in Boston harbor, John; the tea pot of the
free,
You didn't like the party, John. it wasn't quite
select ;
There were some-aborigines you didn't quite
expect.
You didn't like their manners, John, you
couldn't stand their tea,
You thought it got into their heads and made
them quite'too free. . . -
But, you got very tipsy, John, (you drink a
little still,)
The day you marched across the Neck, and
ran down Bunker Hill.
You acted just like mad, John, and tumbled
o'er and o'er,
By yOur stalwart Yankee son, who handled
half a score ;
far too fat to run, •
You havn't got the legs, John, you' had at
Bennington..
You had some corns upon your toes, Corn
wallis that was one,
And at • the fight at YorktOwn, why then you
conidn't run,
Von tried quite hard, I will admit, and threw
away your gun;
And gave your sword, fve, John, for shame, to
one George Washington.
1 do notthink_you'll e'er forget the time you
went to York,
And ate so like a beast, John, you raised ,the
price of pork,
Then we had some to spare, John, our hooks
with NH; we bait , d,
And hung them out on Jersey shore, and you
evacuated.
•
Another much-loved spot John, such sweet as•
sociattons
When you were going down to York to see
your rich relations,
The Dutchmen of the Mohawk, John, anxious
to entertain,
Put up - some "Gates" that stopped you, John,
on Saratogh's plain.
That kill you must remember, John, 'Lis high
and very, green,—
We.meam to have it lithographed, and send it
to your queen,
I know you love that hill, John, you dream of
it o' nights,
The name it bore in '7d, w,►s simply Bemis
Rights.
You old friend, Ethan Allen, John, of Conti
nental fame,
Who called - you to surrender, in "Great Jeho-
van's" name,
You recognized the '"Congress" then, authori
ty most high, . •
The morning he called gn early, John, and
took from you Fort
I know you'll grieve to hear it, John, and feel
quite sore and sad,
To learn that Ethan's dead, John, and yet
there's many a lad
Growing in his hitrhland home, that's fond of
guns and noise,
And gets up just as eatly, John, those brave
Green Mountairt-h-oys.7-
Oh no, we never "mention it," we never
thought it lucky,
The day you chargfd the cotton bags, and got
into Kentucky.
I thought you knew geography, but misses in
their teens
Will ell you that Kentucky lay, just then,
_
below Orleans.
The "beauty" it was there, John, beyond the
cotton bays,
And did you get the "booty," John ! some
how my memory ti:ors;
I think you made a "swap," John, I've gOt it
in my-head,
Instead-of 'Told and silver, you took it in cold
lead.
The mistress of the ocean, John, she couldn't
rti!e the lakes,
You had seine 12;anders in your fleet, hut John,
you had no "Drakes ;"
'Your choicest spirits too, were there, you took
hock and shrrry,
But, John,-you couldn't stank our fare—you
couldn't take our Perry.
We make them all just so, John, on land or on
the sear;
We took this little continent on purpose to be
tree;
Our Eaule's free, he loves to
. soar, he cannot
hear a cage :
But, John, he 10,,-Ps to scratch the bars, and
make lion the rage.
Our glorious stars — are„ sparkling - bright, in
creastnir year by year. _
SupporTld by a thousand hearts that never
knee• a fear;
Our children lisp it in their Prayers, 'Lis carried
o'er the sea ; - --
Post hear it, John it thunders there, '•We're
children of the free."
Free as nor sires of - 741. as bold, and brave and
• oil, and k tlic la-n*44e
we took train ~u;
To keep our flag free ~ n the land,-unsullied on
the wave,
the la.? hri-rht shali. set on the
Ireeaila's
3 fainitti Vrininper----Deuntiit to inlitirs, grirulturr, littruturr, 3rts nn Snirlars, rljr !nrl;rts, 6rnrrat ilamrstir and larriga faintErmrat, kr.
1=
,Getect
q`he Beginnings of Character ;
OR, STARTING IN LIFO
not - ; -• •; ; • . • ; • • • -
damage themselves for life. or at least fer many
years, by what to them appear as trifling or
unimportant errors. They violate the truth,
form reckless associations, and neglect positive .
engagements. Thus, at the _very beginning,
they impair confidence, excite suspicion, and
create distrust. Character_ is a jewel of price
less value, and yet it is easily impaired or tar
nished. The young, generally speaking, do
not appreciate its importance, because they
lack experience', and know . but little of the
w orld_andi ts_ se verity—A v hittatior ex
ample, who is in the habit of repeating all
sorts of wild and improbable stories, - who
boasts, exults, and magnifies, is at first looked
upon with surprise and caution by the intelli
gent and discerning, and then, detected in some
monstrous fabrication, he is distrusted and
avoided. Thus. in an effort to appear what he'
is not, and to occupy a position to which he is
not entitled, he destroys his character, and
loses friends who otherwise would prove use
fal to hint.
The young and indiscreet do not appreciate
the realities of life, hut permit fancy and fully
to mislead them. They do hot remember that
character is to a certain extent, like an, edifice
that is : intended not for a day or an hour. but
fur years, and hence its foundations should be
of the best material. The advanced in life
are, perhaps, too severe and too critical. They
do not make sufficient allowance for the indis.
cretions and the impulses of youth. Hence
they are often disposed to consider as vices
what are in fact merely foibles—foibles, too,
which might readily be modified and amended
if not wholly cured. When, however, the
habit of exaggeration and falsehood becomes so
fixed that it forms a feature of character—when
engagements are made, pecuniary or otherwise,
without any intention of fulfilling them, the
reputation 'soon becomes damaged to so serious
established
Not a few individuals among the young in
dulge in the error, that by extravagance of
speech," recklessness of sentiment, and - inso
lence of manners, they make themselves im
portant, and excite envy and astonishment.—
The mistake is a fearful one. The only feelings
produced among the sensible and observing,
are those of pity and contempt. If, in brief,
a statement cannot be relied upon, because of
the known habit of the person who makes it,
to falsify and exaggerate—thereafter, his career
in life and society will
. be disreputable and
downward, and at the most t apid rate. The
beginnings of character cannot be too carefully
attended to. Temptations beset the yOung
all sides. In the first place, they have to re
sist their own evil passions and weaknesses,
as well as their inexperience, and in the sec
ond, the evil associations with which society
abounds, and "the many allurements which
pleasure and profligacy hold out. This is es-
Fecially ---- the - cahe iu great
peril may- be-said to exist within the ages of
eighteen and twenty-five. It is at that period
that the character and the reputation are more
fully developed than at any other. The habits
then become fixed—the tone of the mind set
tled—the disposition regulated. But if a false
step be taken and a false system be adopted.
it will be difficult, nay, almost impossible to
recover in after life.
Only a short dine since, a young man paid
a visit to a neighboring city, as• well for relax
ation as for pleasure. Before he left the place
of his abode, hie standing was every way cred
itable. Ile had grown up under the eyes of
watchful parents, had received a good educa
tion, possessed a fine mind. and was addicted
to no vice. It so happened, that on the, way.
ed-art-acq.uaintance4v-i-th-a-41--si ang-ro •
of the world as he described himself, who in
fact, was nothing more than a polished sharper
and gambler. The youth was led on from
step to step, until all his funds were exhausted,
and he was compelled to, write home -to Ins
parents, for a sufficient sum to pay his hotel
bill and passage back. Meantime lie had been
seen in one of the streets of New- York partial
ly intoxicated. Fprtunately he was called to
a sense of propriety in time, but not before his
character had received a shock from the effects
of which it took months of good conduct to re
cover. Naturally kind of heart and correct of
deportment, he intended nothing of the kind ;
but was led - on gradually by an evil•asociate.
Ilow many-are ruined in AL similar' manner !
How many forget the little proprieties of life,
commit sonic excess, and then discover to their
mortification and shame, that they have dis
graced themselves. The young cannot he too
watchful. They cannot guard too vigilantly
against bad habits and evil associations.—
They cannot be too careful to protect them
selves from the vice of falsehood. Character,
to many of them, is all they possess ; it is the
only inheritance that has been left to diem by
their parents. and it should be cherished ac
cordingly. No young man, who has a just
sense of,his own value, will trifle with. his rep•
utation. It should be as precious to him as
the breath of his nostrils. But, like the down
of the peach, or the fragrance of the rose, when
once gone it can never he replaced. Accord
ing to the poet, well that ends well,•'
but there is seldom a good end that has not .a
good beginning.—Pennsylvania Inquircr.
Boy Love
One of the queerest and funniest things to
think of in after life, is boy love. No sooner
does a boy acquire a tolerable stature than he
begins to imagine himself a man, and to ape
mannish ways. He casts side glances at the
tall girls he may meet, becomes a regular at
tendant at church. or meeting : carries a cane.
holds his head erect. and struts a little in hi;
walk. Presently, and how very noon.
in love : yes.prils is the proper word. because
it best indicates his happy, delirious selcabase
ment. He lives now in a fairy region. some
what collateral to the world. and yet, blended
somehow Inextricably with it. Ile perfuines
his hair vi ith fragrant oils, scatters essences
over his handkerchief, and desperately shaves
and annoiws for a Iwarl. He quotes poetry.
in ivilich —love" and —dove" add —heart" and
—dart" peculiarly predominate: h e pluu
es dee ier •ill 4 to dt.;icious fancies
"CALL Yorit N F:XT 1 4VITNES.; "—Yesterday ,
in the court-house, while the thud srk . e en i n
an important CaSe WaS being wade by a km n
ed barrister, the Judge fill asleep - . -- The bar
rister proceeded fur smile time. hut at length
sat du wn. re at ii..ct— -the court's asleep."—
La w yers. olli_w, an , f ' sp , :etators .at it/ profound
silence fir smile time. steing tt,L: court in 1e
[0,..e. At len:oh a lawyer, bolder than the
rest, ventured to shake the CJ:/It, tt hen. ruo
lauhg kw; eyes. his honor cried utttall-4:4/ur
tr.(aning the hymn, "lin 4,,r4:Ln's i awakened by
~,,„if fiA t i %-% oh Ji , c ,._, 4 1.:, 0 , .. -tliatus • , /"1, u"r• Pr"P';'''''' "' ('-'"'"' III(' ex.'relsol "Y sill;',""'--! titxt wittit..-:;." Brut, It.,vfir• bLen --- thhrarp , i/ly
the laugh that followed, he cur
sudden! v brcaks into a r.Carict racfi—of thyrne. : - -/' ,l- jall.: '
banks I s tand.-' . Tfie worthS,man 1 rected this, by sa v ing. "Proceed with vuur ar
lie f o _ a up o n th, : 1,01:3 of his beloved : is si-onnY
was horritt..-d by hearing the whole schou. in/. gunient."—Cin. Gq.z , fie
raised to the seventh heaven if She speaks a
-
pleasant word :is betrayed into the mo. - -1 ac.- medlateiY strike up. Jardan ain a hard road
tonishing ecstasies by a S1111:C ; and is plunged to travel, I bt•iieve
ETTILSI3=UTI G I OI\M AY, FAR el 1 - 24718 56 .
into the gloomitist regions of misanthropy 'by
a frown.
Ile believes himself the mast derbted lover
in the world. There was never such another.
There never will be. Ile is the one great idol
ator ! Ile is the very type "of - magnanimity
• - I a '( s•s the I
grovelinn• ° thought. Poverty, with the adorable
treloved,he rapturously apostrophises as the
first of all earthly blessings ; and "love in a
cottage, with water and a crust," is his beau
ideal .paradise of dainty delights.
He declares to himself, with the most solemn!
emphasis,:that he would go through fire and
water ; undertake a pilgrimage to China or
kainschatkn ; swim storm-tossed oceans ; scale
impassable mountains, and face legions of hay
onets, but for one sweet smile from her dear
lips. lie Boats upon a tlo\ver she has cast
away. lie cherishes her glove—a little worn
in the fingers.—next his heart. He sighs like
a locomotive letting otlsteam. He scrawls her
dear name over quires of foolscap—a,
medium for his insanity. He scornfully dep.
recales the attention of - other boys of his own
age ; -cuts Peter Thibbets dead because he said
that the adorable Angelina had carrotty hair ;
and passes-Harry Bell contemptuously for dar
ing to compare "that gawkey Mary Jane" with
his incomparable Angelina.
Happy ! happy ! tOolish boy-love ! with its
hopes, and its fears ; its sorrows, its jealousies
and its delights ; its raptures and its tortures ;
its ecstatic fervors and terrible heart burnings ;
its solemn ludicrousness and its intensely Mo
saic termination.
The Lady in Grey Silk.
The New York correspondent of the Phila
delphia Sunda!) Mercury, in referring to the
fact that 'Hon. James Quiggle;- formerly a mem
ber of the Pennsylvania Senate from Clinton
and Centre eMin ties, had taken up his residence
in the "Quaker City," relates the following
amusing anecdote :
Seine years since, on the road frOm Lancas
tei to Philadelphia, on a blazing hot summer
day, Judge Jim Pollock, (your recent gover
nor,) lion. Jim Quiggle, (then plain Lawyer
I
uigg •
the former well, but not the latter, were alone
in the rearmost car of the train. Jim Pollock'
was looking.out of the car window, at a place
where the train stopped to water, when sud
denly he. drew his white handkerchief from his
pocket, and began vigorously waving it in the
air, at .the same lime bobbing . his head out of
the window in - a very vigorous manner.
"What are you about, Judge ?" asked Mr.
Q., without rising from his seat.
"Why. don't you see yonder ? There's a
lady waving a white handkerchief, and I'm re
turning the salute—some acquaintance I wade
formerly, I suppose ?"
Judge P. ceased, but in a few moments he
ngain looked out and resumed the operation
with his cambric.
“Who is'she, Judge ?” risked Mr. Q., as he
lounged in one corner of the car, with his
nether extremities curled up like a gigantic
capital Z.
' , Well, the fact is:l don't exactly know
chief r• Mlle nc'' •
cone near-sighted, a ut earV6-ecogniz - e
her, hut she is dressed in grey silk, and stands
yonder, under a big maple tree, near my friend
John B—'s house."
By and by the locomotive gave a snort, and
the train began to move. Judge Pollock again
flirted his cambric to the lady in a final salute,
and this time Jim Quiggle thought he would
have a peep at her. So he cl'os , ,cd over to the
Judge. and poking out his head, took a view,
but didn't see the lady. Nevertheless, the
Judge kept. on waving his handkerchief, the
perspiration roiling down his face n ith the
effort.
Where is she ? I don't see anybody."
said Mr. Q.. after kcanning the landbcape,
with
ont observing any female.
"There !" was the rather petulant rcrly ;
standing under that maple tree, waving a
white handkerchief?"
There waS a Su ppressed snorting sound, and
Jim (niggle rolled nccr On the Sea,t, red it, the
face as a boiled lobster, while. your corres:
pondent picked him up in a state of virulent
pat oxystn of laughter. and hit] him out upon
the seat. After sacrificing all the buttons on
his vest and tvaist-bands, he explained to the
Judge the occasion of the cachinnatory
The Judge had been exchanging salutes for'
twenty minutes with an iron-grey mare, whose
long - white tail, as it flipped away the flees, had
been taken by him for a white handkerchief,
waved by a lady in a grey silk drc, , s ."I:he
Judge didn't. swear. but he changed the subject
to sawmills, the only portion of which was in
telligible, being the frequent repetition of the
word —dam."
And Ike, immer s e] in his physiological
lesson, read on----" The -heart is of a conical
shape, is situated in the thorax'. just within
the sternum, a little inclining to the left side."
Mrs. Partingion laid down her knitting work,
and, looking over the top of her spectacles. said.,
"Is that so, Isaac'?" Ile assured her that it
was : She paused a moment, as a pause will
occur in the breath of the winds at times, as if
they went into their caves for a stimulant pre
paratory to going on a fresh blow. ' lll sure,"
said she, striking out, "1 don't see anything
comical in its sh tpe, and. if it is within the
sternum, the store must be true that Paul used
to tell about the soldier that the tailor played
a prank on." Ike looked up and ceased
roiling up the corner of the leaf he was read
ing. "He went, to the tailor," continued she,
"as he was going to battle, for hint to put a
breastplate in his uniform- next his heart, and
the tailor, who was a funny than, put it in the
hind part of his pantaloons loco down in the
back. The man was a coward, and run away,
and as he was getting over a wall, a soldwr
struck him right on the breastplate with his
hayonet, and pushed him over, but didn't hurt
him. Ile said when he got up that the tailor
k no wpd where his heart was better than Its
did. I - always.thonght it was a i.tke t i ll
The dame smiled at the rentiniseen - ee, and the
Old rignl profile of the corporal on the wall
even SLCMCII to borrow a ray of heniguity. an d
Ike laughed triAtneudouslv. kickinv the stove
door cuipitutielily as an accompainweitt..
rtad ou---.---Bwbni Ns'.
Tninl;'er, after lecturilv , . s ragzed
Sqn , lav Cia , .3 in a innst
"TRUTH IS MIGHTY, AND WILL PREVAIL."
Skerrett regretted Cie catastrophe, hat
concluded there was no usle for crying ,over
spi t milk. lle shook-hands-with llavells a ntl
left, saying he WJlild try and Lind •a piece of
speed in some other pant of- the city. Havens
having (putted SLerrett, took the 445 train
for New York, and arrived at Brooklyn a little
after 10 o'clock on Monday evening.
M'Call promised to send the mare downon
Tuesday evening, Ile did not du anything of
the kind. In consequence of this, Havens
went up again on Wednesday to . see -what it
all meant." He found M'Uall at the steamboat
landing; - - _
hy didn't you send that mare down last
night ?''
"What mare ?"
"Why, that grey mare I bought of you on
Monday."
I "On Monday ?"
I.‘ ' . _on Alontlily "
"You're mistaken. 1 soIJ put TM mare
. on
Monday, and for the hest reason in the world,
she was dead a week before."
"Dead ! What do you mean ?"
"1% hat do I -melm--? and have yen forgotten
that you broke her leg on the Troy road, and
that so badly that we had to blow her ht alas
out ?"
"You don't mean to swindle me by any such
game, do you ?"
-Swindle! not a bit of it. You killed the
mare, and I ran prove it."
-"What by-? ,, ...
"Your own neighbor. Skerrett. Brooklyn."
"And what does he know about it 1"
•'Just what you told Inn, and that 1 , 4, that
you killed the mare while trying her speed on
the Troy road."
havens could hear no more, hut rushed for
the Police Office, where he swore out a v arrant
ag-aimit Weal! for swindling. It was issued
by Justice Parsons. But as "Mac" proved h
Skerrett that the complainant wimitted that. he
killed the mare on the sth of ike.itier, of
CO Li l'Set he could not have porehased her on
Monday, the 10th. Vet dol. for the defendant.
Mr. Havens left for :New York, on Wednesday
night, in the Manhattan. lle was accompa
nied by Skerrett. Ou going forward. after tea,
he saw a grey mare, that led to the following
dialogue :
"'VC ho's bob-tailed mare is that, Skerrett ?"
"Mine."
"Bought her'frow M'Call. She is not ghite
as goud-lo9king as the one I wanted, but I
think she k full as.speedy."
"What did you give ?"
"Four hunched dollars."
"Say no more —le t's think."
Skurrett obeyed orders, and • went in :I nd
took .'a little bonialiitig warm." Il.►veus
!r,►iil for it. As lie did so, a bystander thought:
tie uttered an imprecation about a certain
scoundrel in Albany.
.Nloitm.,—Never hire a man to tell z lie, un
less you wish to get chi:laud
An Original Horse Trade.
Mr. Samuel Havens resides in Brooklyn, and
is a great admirer of horse-flesh. On Monday
last he went up the river to Albany for the
purpose of buying a mare belonging to his
friend M'Call. The grey mare' is a , very fine
do a mile in 2.5.5.. with two in a wagon.' Ha
vens heard - of her merits last week, and re
solved on a purchase. On his arrival at Alba
ny he took breakfast at Stanwix Hall—short
ly -after which he buttoned up his coat and
started to find M'Call. - He met him in Broad
way, near the =City Hotel.. With "Mac" ho
had the following converslition:
"I understand, Mr. that you wish
to sell that grey of yours."
"rdialjVaritio sell her, but I imagine she is
now disposed of." ,
"Disposed of !—to whom 7"
"To your friend Skerrett, of Brooklyn."
"What 'did he agree to give you ?"
- "Five hundred and thirty d011ar , .."
"If you will let rue have her, I will give you
five hundred and fifty dollars cash'down."
"But I've promised her to Skeireu."
'When ?'
"Last week."
'•Never mind that. If he should call, say
she's dead—that I brae her leg on 'ihe Troy
road, in consequence of which we had to blow
her brains out."
• "Of course, I will. It's n bargain then.
Give me the five hundred and fifty, and Ol
send the mare down to-morrow night. But
hadn't we better crop her inane and bob her
tail, so that She:ll . cu cannot sue me fur lying
to him ?"
"Just as you please—there's your money.
Be sure to send her down on Tuesday nightou
the Knickerbocker.
promised-to do so. Soon after
which he folded up his live hundred and fifty
and walked around to Captain Knight's for
the purpose of.putting the party through.
This was 111onclay morning. On 'Monday,
afternoon Mr. Sherrill made his appearance in
town. lie met M'Call in State stieet.
..IVell,".llac, I've called 'Lc) pay )uu for that
. it
"What mare ?:?
"The grey ►n:►re, the one you wrote to me
about last week_."
—Haven't you heard about that ?"
4'..lGout what ?"
.
- "About that grey mare—she Is dead and
buried."
" Dead —nonsense. You
_nre f(mli og me."
"Not at all. Ifyon doubt it ask your twigh.
bor Havens, who bloke 'her leg on. trio Troy
road."
•'ls Havens bore ?"
"Yes—you willaiind him nt StnnwiN
It is not necessary for us to say that Mr. S.
went to Sinn wix Hall and saw Havens:neither
is it necessary fur us to say that Mr. Havens
swore that the grey ware was dead, and that
he killed her. Ile could not io whet wise
without losing one of the hest bargains he el, er
made.,
=I
L is :a 1 . 14 t L LLL inn a , iul tr;ilei
Good Seed.
Brother Farmers!--The spring is now rap
idly advancing, and you 'will soon be again
called to the healthful and invigorating labors
of the field. Let every one, therefore, with
the commencement of his agricultural efforts,
and usages of the past. This he cafi do in
many ways. We have not yet arrived . at per
fection in any of the numerous and interesting
departments
,of this great art —.‘the Art
. of
Arts," as an able author has justly - styled it.
But the first and most important thing to 'be
attended to, is to provide Goon SEF:n. This is
by no means a new idea,,fur we find Columulla
—an old Roman author who wrote much and'
learnedly on the Art and Science of AgricUlture
—enforcing.it with particular earnestness. In
one of his worksim says—; •
-I have this further direction to give you.
that, when the corns are cut down, and brought
into the threshing floor, we should even then
think of making provision of seed for the future
seed time, tbr this is what Celsus says, 'When
tb4 corn and crop is but small, we must pick
out the,brst eats, and oithem lay up our seed
separately by " Virl il, also, touches
upon - the same subject. lie says :-
- 'vn seen the hirge•it seed's, the , vlew'd with care,
Dea'rnecate, unless the induiddieue 11,1)4
Did vearly cull the. 4. %Mania. VMS alt things
By fatal doom,grow worm., and by degroM,
Decay, forced into tboir'prinievoti state."
In consequence of the scarcity or high price
of good sett], we sometimes, for the stikozof a
slight; saving. feel warranted in sowing poor
andimperfectly developed grains ; yet this is
always to be avoided when possible. When
such a course is adopted. the result of our la
bors is never satisfactory.; a spirit of dissatis
faction is engendered against farming, anti our
ambition weakened and unhinged. The labor
of culavating a poor crop is often as great. and
sometime:;, indeed, greater. than is required in
the case of a good one. Where the soil is thin
ly occupied by valuable plant's; the weeds
spring up, and finding more nutriment. and a
freer range for the roots, luxuriate almost with
out restraint. A few dollars expended extra
for an extra article of bleed, will rarely be
m'ssed 'n t t rse but, never last in the field.
It should. I am persuaded, ever be a rule with
the farmer to sow and plant Me very best seed
he rash obtain, no Matter at what price, where
the only alternative is to pay high,, for good
aced. or °propagate from had.--A BRISTOL
TOWNSHIP PARSilai. [Germantown
The Faculties of Animals.
Among the" mental problems which ocenpied
much of . the attention of Anipere, wits the
-vexed of the nature of the faculties of
aninsals. Ile originally decided against their
capacity to reason, hut he abandoned the opin
ion in deference to a single anecdote related by
a ft lend on whose accuracy he could 'rely.
This gentleman, driven by a stern) into a vil
lage puillie house. ordered a fowl to be roasted.
Old fashions then prevailed in the South of
France, and turnspits were still employed in
plate of the modem jock. Neither caresses,
threats. nor blows could. truilie the dog net his
part. The gentleman interposed. "Poor
,dog,
-infl-Qed-P-Lsaid-the-laodiord-Ararply : "he de
serves none of your pity, for . the scene takes
place every day. Do you know" why this
pretty fellow refuses to work the spit ?—it
because he has taken it into his head that he
and his partner arc to share alike, and it is not
hi's turn," Ampere's infamant begged that
a servant might lie 'sent to find the other dog,
who made nu difficulty in performing the task.
De was taken out after a while and his refrac
tory partner pit in, who liegan, now his sense
ofilistice was satisfied, to work with thorough
good will like a squirrel in.a cage.
A similar incident was related by M. de
Liaiwour to the great Arnauld.._whO„wit h other
Port-Royalists, had adopted the theory
cartes. that clop; are automatons and machines: -
and who, on the strength of tWs conviction
l_disseeted_the_pour_critatttres to obser.ve_the
circulation of the blood, and denied that they
telt. "1 have two dogs."-said the remonstra
tor against this cruelty. "who turn the spit on
alternate days. One of them bid himself, and
his partner. was about to be put in his place.
De balked and wagg ed his. tail as sign to
the cook to follow him, went to the garret,
pulled out the truant and worried him.. Are
these your muchi»es?" The great Arnauld.
mighty in controversy and redoubtable in logic.
must have had a latent consciousness that the
turnspit had refuted him.—London Quarterly
fr'Fn prevent cows from sucking them•
selvts, take a common leather halter and put
on the cow 's head as you would on the head of
a horse. Attach to the ring under the jaw one
en d of a stick, which shall be so long as to
reach from the jaw half way between the fore
and hind legs, passing between the fore legs,
and fastened behind them by means of a girth
passing around the body, so that when she
turns her head to suck, the lever will pry on
her legs so much that she cannot get it tar
enough lAA to ream► the teat. I have seen it
tried several times, and have never known a
failure.—S., in Rural New-Yrker.
*A PitoprrAin.i: Cow.—Mr. 11. G. Nlnlin, of
Tredyth in township. Chester county, informs
u,, says the Village Recard, that he has a cow
which he thinks is hard to beat. She has I►ad
her third calf, and will not weigh more than
450 pounds. She has been milked for forty
weeks, and has averaged nine pounds of butter
per week, which makes 360 pounds, besides
supplying, the fatally, consisting of live per
sons, with cream and The sale of 360'
pounds at 30 cents per pound, would amount
to ii 108.
USEFUL RECEIPT.— WOUnd , i in ea tle are
quickly cured by washing several times - a day
with a trlixture of the yolk of eggs and spirits
of turpertine.
Awfal Calamity-30,000 Lives Lost
A vegsel has arrived at San Francisco from
Japan, bringing intelligence that the City of
tie& way destroyed by an earthquake on th e
Hilt of Nm.ettiner. One hundred thousand,
houses were destroyed, and thirty thousand
ii ,e, lost ? Th e earth opened and closed over
thousari , ls of buildings, with their inhabitants !
Fi r e bloke out at the saute time in thirty dif
ferent ',Arts of the rity. Among the buildings
destroyed. xvere 54 temples of wm•ship. Jeddo
is the second capital of the country, and resi-
demce_ofillie_3lilitaryernor. its popula
tion is said to be a million and a hal for persons.
This is the greatest earthquake of mode'
times. In 1755, the greater part of the city of
Li-Jinn. in Portugal. was destoyed. and nearly
7t pur.sons peri.,hed in six mill lalet;
TWO DOLLARS A-YEAR.
Hon. W. H. Welsh's Remarks
IN TIM LATE DEMOCRATIC STATE CONVENTION.
Mr. President-1 did not come here for the
purpose of =king n speech, but simply to par
ticipate in the 'deliberations of the Convention
as an humble member. I came here. sir, to
gn ie • " • th—th-e—Dtmoc-rwey—or-Reitiii—
around our annual council fires—l mite here
to perform with them a solemn' lustration-at
the pure and limpid - fountain of Democraey-4
ame here to look with them upon our old bat
tle flag. so often - Crowned with'the laurel leaves
of victory, and pledge with them my constant
and unalterable devotion to its bright stars and
its red stripes, which have-never yet been given
to the breeze, that they-did not blendand mit
in harmony and glory with the glorious stripes
and stars imprinted on the consecrated ensign
of our country. Perhaps, Mr. President - , I
have some little right to speak here, when the
name of James BucliCnan is mentioned. I-had
the honor to be associated with him two years,
dniing his mission in London. ' I feel it an
honor that any man might he proud of—it is
an honor .perhaps, that I May never have a
higher one in this country ;. - hut., sir, in /all my"
intercourse with him. wherever the place, or
e Weyer the occasion, whether•in London. in
the Court, or with the people, I can say to this
Convention, and can say to the people of -Penn
sylvanin, as I hope to have-the pride of doing
between this and the next election, that be was
in,every inetance. wherever he went, under-all
circumstances, thoroughly an American citizen. -
(Applause.) I can say this, that the British
Court never received a bolder rebuke than
when-tunicl their blnzonry trappings,l.heir
gewgaws and emblems of -office, James Bu
chanan walked proudly erect in the plain dress
of on American gentleman. - (Applause.)
--- We have met here today fora double put
pose—for the put pose of selecting candidates
for a State ticket, and also for the purpose of
ascertaining the - choice of Pennsylvania for thei
next Presidency. and presenting-a Democrat to
our party in our sister . States, and asking that
we shall no longer be hewers of wood ,and
drawers of water, but that the long neglected.
claims of Penns y lvania i shall non' lie recognized
er-Nittiontl t..onventicar. ----- (Applause;) - -
never in my life felt more interest in any - nn.
,proaching Campaign-than the one now opening
before us. I believe honestly.-that upon the
succese and permanency of the Democracy:of
this Unioti depends the permanency of our re
publican institutions. The Democratic party
has always been the party of 'the country.— .
Every cardinal -principle of its faith aims most
strikingly at an - enlargement of the- popular
rights. • We have-always contended for an en=
la of the elective franchise. battled for
the destruction of monopoly. ,taught every.
where‘that - the people are the safest depositories
of politioal power; for-the. reform of abuses;
'taught that the poor man is on the same equal- .
ity as the rich man I that, his priceless inheri..
tance of freedom is the same. and that the
- hewer of wood - and drawer of water has as
tniich,right to be considered in the fashioning
of municipal regulations, as these whose good
fortunes have placed them beyond the pale of -.
labor ; and we have also taught and have
- preached the subject with some' pride,. that
matters not, where a man first drew the .
breath of life. if he has hilfilled all the mma--
tuitional requirements,_ he_ can .ffitike_s_good
citizen ; that a man's religion is a matter. be
tween himself and his God ; that,in this free -;
mid happy country, the -rainbow, and not the •
cloud. emblems the cross: and Jew or Gentile.
Catholic or Protestant, is not Lobe persecuted
on•ftecount - of a faith made dear to him by the
memory of his fathers and by the hallowed re
collections of the past. . (Applause.)
Mr. President-4 have nothirg more to say. .
I thank this Convention for the honor done-me
in permitting me to address it. I to-day en-, •
list in this Democratiderniy. I will-go- forth
whenever I am needed in this Commobvvealth, -
from the Delaware to the Alleghenies, render--
. r , ny service. that - I ma; be able LO ,secore,7 - ,
not only the-success of -James Buchanan, but- .
the success of the Demeenitic party 'of this •
Union ; (applause) and' if we all do our duty,-
and go to work manfully, after'the next . Presi-•
dentin] election, that Democratic standerd will .
he floating gloriously -and . . ttiuttipliat.tly over
the millions of freemen-now scattered from the
icy waters of Maine to the golden sands of the. -!
Sacramento. (Great applause.)
fr7General Dearborn, of Tenne;see. in tak
ing the chair as President - du Know Nothing
Convention, gave utterance to the following in
tun►ous sentiment :
"Unless we stop• emigration. we can't pre
serve the liberty of our country: If coniin
ties the time will come when we will have to
rise in arms and massacre the foreigners; or
make them our slaves, in order to preserve the
free institutions of our country. and traususit
them unimpaired to our children."
A Jolly Trio.
About thirty miles above Wilmington, North
Carolina, lived three fellows named respective
ly Barham, Stone. and Giay, on the banks of
the North East River. They came down to
Wilmington in a small row boat. and made
fast to the wharf. They had a time of it in
the city. but for fear they would be dry before
getting home, they procured a jug of whiskey.
a - id after dark ,of a dark night too, they em bark
ed in their boat, expecting to reach Lome in the
morning. They rowed away with all the
energy that three half tipsy fellows could
muster. keeping up their spirits, in the, dark by
pouting the spirits down. At break of day
they thought they must be near home. anti
seeing through the dim grey of the morning a
house on the river side, Stone said :
Well, Barham, we've got to your place at
last."
"If this is my house," said Barham. "same
body haS been -putting up a lot of out houses
since I went away yesterday : but 1 . 11 go
ashore and look about and see where we are, if
you'll hold 'tier to."
Barham disembarks, takes observation, and
soon comes sminblit , back, and says:
Well, I'll he whipped if we ain't at Wil
mington yet; and, what's more, the boat has
hitched to the wharf all night !"
It was a fact. They had been rowing away
for dear life without moving it.
r; - ' lt is said that the rment troublesin Ran
sas cost the contending parties something like
a hundred thousand dollars.
"r7-11onest industry hisbroughTilltilia — iito
the scaffold," said a wag, as he saw : a carpenter'
Upon the Stnillg.
sensitzv4 young lady recently billed
at a bare idea!
NO. 26.