51V GEO. W. BOWMAN. NEW SERIES. Sckct poetry. The Stars. BY GEO. I>. PP.EXTICE. Those beaming stars! what are thevjl 1 have dreams That they ere blo-oais on the T re of Life, Or glory flung back from the outspread wings Of God's archangel—or that yon bine skies, With all their gorgeous blazcnry of gems, Were a bright banner waving o'er the earth From the fair wall of Heaven ! —And I have sat And drank their gushing glory, till t felt '{'heir flash electric trembling with the deep , And strong vibrations down the living wire Of chainless passion—and my every pulse Was beating high, as if a spring were there To buoy me up, where 1 might ever roam 'Mid the mifathomed vastness of the sky, And dwell with those high stars, and see the light J'ouring down upon the blessed earth, like dew From "the b*ght urn of Naiads ! Beautiful stars ! What are ye ? There is in my heart of hearts, A fount, that heaves beneath you, like the deep Beneath the glories of a midnight moon ! list—your F.den tones are floating now Around tne like an element —>o low, So wildly beautiful, I almost dream That ye are there the living harp of (Jod, O'er which the incense winds of Eden stray, And wake U'-h tones of mystic minstrelsy ■As well might wander down to the dim world To fa-hion dreams of lleaven ! —l'eal on—peal on, future's height antheVn—lor my life ha.-caught A poition of your purity and power, And seems but as a [sweet and glorious tone Or wild star-music I ' • Blessed, blessed things! W re fn Heaven and pit Karjh. My soul jfiveowiih the whirl wani's rush, can wander off To your immortal realm, but it must fall • Like your ancient Pleiad from its height, . 'To dim its neyv-caugbt "lories in the dust! The earth is beautiful—J love Its wilderness of spring flowers, its bright clouds, ybeViiajeshwof mountains, and the dread Majriiificenleof ocean—for they come d.ike'vi-ions tojny heart—'but when I look tin your unfailing loveliness, 1 feel •> Like a lost iiifan*gazilig on its home, • I And weep. to die. and come where you repose *• *l'fon yntir boundless Heaven, like parted souls Oli'an eternity- <4 ble.-Sedoess. \ ADVERSITY—A TEST OF CHARACTER. T|jr*ni?rge<d"ir]efal of the mine, • • Mihtfcurn the surface shine. We, sotne week's >ince, offered a few remarks 'in relation to tin? in/Itience .of- PROSPERITY in '• -the development" 017 character. ADVERSITY is another test, and with many its fiery ordeal is suited to elicit all the energies of the human mind and soul, to call forth qualities which, but tor misfortune, would, have remained dormant, a.nd to indicate faculties of a high and ennob ling nature. Its influence is least tempting and seductive, it is calculated to stimulate and to nerve, to revive the laith of our nature in Pro vidence, an i induce the poor-minded to dwell with pliik'sopi v upon the trials of this life, and with hope and confidence, not only upon the future with regard to things of time im-relv, but with reference to these of the dim and distant period uhich commences with the close of our mortal being. How many of the eminent by intellect and patriotism would have remained in comparative "obscurity, had they been si;r romided by all the superfluities of fortune, had no necessity existed for exerti m, had their Rands become torpid, indifferent to patriotic im pulses, and the welfare of their fellow-man ! What more glorious to the eve of true philoso phy, than a virtuous and godlike mind, con scious of rectitude ofpurpos ■, but struggling on, )ear after \ <-ar, amidst the clouds of darkness and Adversity ? To lie sati.-lied and joyous wh -re all smile around us, satisfied with our • Ives end with others, grateful to God and • ijy t -ward out fil low-creatures, is compara •v■!_>- easy. But to pursue the right path through every vicissitude, to resist vice when fortune lowers most darkly, to turn aside from temptation when hunger gnaws and friends grow cold, to listen amidst every difficulty and danger to the still small voice of conscience, and to be governed by its dictates, indicates true greatness, real self-denial, and unbounded fatfh in the ways of God to man. But what moral strength u required, what a resolute and ■self-poised spirit, to stand up firmly and reso lutely as wave after wave of sorrow and afflic tion is dashed against us>, as friend after friend jrow s cold or becomes false, as hope after hope ladesawav, and we feel that life and strength are also draw ing to a close ! How many sink under the ordeal, how the weakness of man's mature is seen in these trials! How many per ish ;n body and soul, and go down to the grave smmourned, unhonorpd and unsung! Look through our country at the present moment.— Victims may be met in every street, men who were once prosperous, but who, struck down by some sudden blow of misfortune, or by a series of vicissitudes, have in vain endeavored <o rally their energies and are every hour becom ing more degraded in body and in mind. The contrast between their hour of fortune and their day of trouble, is indeed strong. Then, t6o, many of them were proiiti and haughty, and careless alike of their duties to God and man.— Now abject in spirit, they cringe and falter, and are ln S t to that glorious principle, which teaches that a human being, whether rich or poor, whether prosperous or otherwise, if he be honest and upright, is alike entitled to respect and esteem. But there are others again, who when the world went well with them, were generous and benevolent. They expended be yond their m"ar.s—'hey had too much confi dence in friend and neighbor, and they become victims. These are indeed entitled to sympa thy and kindness; and their only friends should not forget them in this their day of gloorn— their spirits should be cheered, their hopes brightened. Momentary adversity, however, should not be permitted to ovewhelm any man. It is the destiny ol most of us, to meet with some serious and frightful reverse, at some pe riod ot life. Who can single out from among his friends, individuals who a few years back were apparently crashed and prostrate, but who with the indomitable spirit of hope and enterprise, still toiled and struggled on, and fi nally succeeded ? It should be remembered that the most chances against us that have been experienced, the better the prospect for the fu ture. No one should despair. In a country like this, new expedients and chances are con stantly presenting themselves. While health and life remain, hope should not be abandoned. We know not, ourselves, indeed, until we have been fully tried. Many a man has been driv en into a new occupation by necessity and has triumphed fully*, who a few years would have pronounced himself utterly unfitted for such a sphere. Adversity not only tests the truth of friendship, but it tests our own nature. It proves either the weakness or the strertgth of the human character. It forces us to depend on our energies, and to make many an effort which under other circumstances would never be attempted. Its uses are sweet and beneficial, for they show in a distinct and palpable form, the utter insignificance of man, the utter muta bility of human affairs, and the necessity, at all times and seasons, of looking to the great source and centre of all that is good and perfect. We should remember, moreover, that in many cases— "lleaven but tries our virtue by affliction. As oft the cloud that wraps the present hour Serves but to brighten all our future days.,' EARTHQUAKE AT SAX SALVADOR. The night of the 16th of April, 18f>4, will ever be one of sad and bitter memory for the people of Salvador. Gti that unfortunate night our happy and beautiful capital was made a heap ol ruins. Movements of the earth were felt on the morning of-Holv Thursday, proceed ed by sounds like the rolling of heavy artillery over pavements, and like distant thunder. The people were a little alarmed in consequence of this phenomenon. But it did not prevent them from meeting in th° churches to celebrate the solemnities of the day. On Saturday all was quiet, and confidence was restored. The people of the neighborhood assembled, as usual, to celebrate the Passover. The night of Saturday was tranquil, as was also the whole of Sun rfav. The heat, it is true, was considerable, but the atmosojihere was cairn and serene. For the first three hours ol the evening nothing un usual occurred: but at half past nine a severe "shock at an earthquake, occffrring- without 'the the usual preliminary noises, whole citv. Many families left their houses and made encampments in the public squares, while oth ers prepared to pass the night in their respec tive court vards. Finally, at ten minutes to eleven, without premonition of any kind, the earth began to heave and tremble with such force that in ten seconds the entire city was prostrated. The crashing of houses and churches stunned the ears o> the terrified inhabitants, while a cloud of d lit from the falling ruins enveloped all in pal! of impenetrable darknes . Not a drop of water could be got to re! -ve the half-cSioked .Mid suffocating, for the wells and fountains were filled up, or u.ad'e dry. The clock tower of the Cathedra! carried a great part of the edifice with it in its fall. The towers of the church of San Francisco crushed the Episcopal Orato ry arid part ofthe palace. The church of San to Dimingo was buried benealh its towers, and the College of the Assumption was entirely ruined. The new and beautiful edifice of the University was demolished. The Church of Merced separated in the centre, and its walls fell outward to the ground. Ofthe private hou ses a few were left standing but all were ren dered unhabitable. It is worthy of remark, that the walls left standing are old ones: all those of modern construction have fallen. The public edifices of the govermetit and city shared the common destruction. • ' The devastation was effected, as we have said, in the first ten seconds; for although all succeeding shocks were tremendous and accom panied by fearful rumblings beneath our feet, they had comparatively trifling results, for the reason that the first had left but little tor their ravages. Solemn and terrible was the picture present ed on that dark, funeral night, of a whole peo ple clustering in the plazas, and on their knees crying with loud voices to Heaven for mercy, in agonizing accents calling for their children and friends, which they believed to be buried beneath the ruins ! A heaven opaque and om inous; a movement ofthe earth rapid and une qual, causing a terror indescribable; an intense sulphurous odor filling the atmosphere, and in dicating an approaching eruption ofthe volca no: streets filled with ruins or overhung by threatening w alls: a suffocating cloud of dust al most rendering respiration impossible. Such was the spectacle presented by the unhappy city on that memorable night! A hundred boys were shut up in the college, many invalids crowded the hospitals, and the bariacks were full of soldiers. The sense of the catastrophe which must have befallen thern, gave poignacy to the first moments of reflection after the earthquake was over. It was believed that a 4th part of the inhabitants fud been bu ried beneath the ruins. The members of the government, however, hastened to ascertain as far as practicable the extent of the catastrophe, and to quiet the public mind. It was found that the loss of life had been much less than was supposed, and it now appears probable that the number of the killed will not exceed one hundred, and of wounded fifty. Among the latter is the bishop, who received a severe blow on the head; the lafe President, and fhe wife of the Secretary of the Legislative chambers—the BEDFORD, PA. FRIDAY MORNING, JUNE 23, 1854. latter severely. Fortunately the earthquake has not hpen fol lowed by rain*, which gives an opportunity to disinter the public archieves, as also many of the valuables contained in the dwellings of the citizens. The movements of the earth still continue, with strong shocks, and the people, fearing a general swallowing up of the site of the city, or that it may be buried under some sudden erup tion of the volcano, are hastening aw ay, taking with them their household goods, the sweet memories of their infancv, and their domestic animals, perhaps the only property left for the support of their families. ELEPHANT MIMING. Mr. BAKER, in his "Hunting in Cr-vlon," re lates the following incident: He had discovered in a large plain, Which was covered with huge lemon grass to a height of ten or twelve feet, a herd often elephants: and in company with his brother had shot five of them. We give the story in his own language : "I had one barrel still loaded, arid I was pushing my way through the tangled grass to wards the spot where the 4ve elephants lay to gether, when I suddenly heard Wallace shriek out, 'Look out, sir 1 Lookout!—an elephant's coming! ' "I turned round in a moment, and close past Wallace, from the vet} - spot where the last dead elephant lay, came the very essence and incar nation of a 'rogue' elephant in full charge. His trunk was thrown high in the air, his ears were cocked, his tail stood high above his back, as stiff as a poker, and, screaming exactly like the whistle of a railw ay engine, he rushed upon me through the high grass with a velocity that was perfectly wonderful. His eyes flashed as he came on, and he had singled me out as his victim. "I have often been in dangerous positions, hut I never felt so totally devoid of hope as 1 did HI this instance. The tangled grass rendered re treat impossible. I had only one barrel loaded, and that was useless, as the upraised trunk protected his forehead. I felt mvself doomed : the few thoughts that rush through men's minds in such hopeless positions flew through mine, and I resolved to wait fir him till he was close upon me before I fired, hoping that he might lower his trunk and expose his forehead. "He rushed along at the pace of a horse in full speed ; in a few moments, as the grass flew to the right and left before him, he was close upon rr.e, but still his trunk was raised and I would not fire. One second more, and at this headlong pace he was within three feet of me ; down slashed his trunk with the rapidity of a whip thong, and with a shrill scream of fury he was upon me. "I fired at that instant: but. in the twinkling of an eyy, I was flying through the air like a ball from a bat. At the moment of firing, 1 had jumped to the left, but he struck me with his tusk in full charge upon my right thigh, and hurled me eight or ten paces from him. That very moment he stopped, and turning round, he heat the grass about with his trunk, and commenced a strict search for me. I heard him advancing close to the spot where ] lav as still as death, know ing that mv last chance lay in concealment. I heard the grass rustling close to the spot where I lay : closer and closer he approached, and he at length beat the grass with his trunk seve al times exactly above me. I held my breath, momentarily expecting to feel his [inodorous foot upon me. Although I had not felt the sensation of fear while I had stood opposed to him, I felt like what I never wish to feel again while h< was deliberately hunting me up. Fortunately, I L, ad reserved my fiie until the rifle had almost touched him, for the powder and smoke had nearly blinded him, and had spoiled his acute power of scent. To my joy I heard the rustling of the grass grow fiiinter ; again I heard it at a stiil greater dis tance : at length it was gone." A Ftiuous ELEPHANT AT LARGE. —It has already been mentioned that an elephant broke loose from his keeper on the sth inst., on the way from Pawtucket, T?. 1., to Fall River.—lt was the large elephant Hannibal, of the Broad way menagerie weighing 3,500 lbs. The Pro vidence Journal says: When about seven miles from Pawtucket he became furious, turned upon his keeper, who had to fly lor his life and take refuge in a house, got free and rushed along the road, destroying everything in his way.—Meeting a horse and wagon belonging to Mr. Stafford Short, he thrust his tusk into the horse, and lifted horse, wagon, and rider into the air. He mangled the horse terribly, and carried him about fifty feet, and threw the dead body into a pond. The wagon was broken to pieces, and Mr. Short considera bly hurt. The elephant broke one of his enor mous tusks in this encounter. A mile further, the elephant, now growing more furious, attack ed in the same manner a horse and wagon, with Mr. Thomas W. Peck and his son. He broke the wagon and wounded the horse, which ran away. Mr. Peck was pretty badly hurt in the hip. The next man in the path was Mr. Pearce, who was riding with his little son in a one horse wagon. He was coming towards the elephant, and being warned by Mr. Barney, turned a round and put the horse to his speed, but the elephant overtook him, and seizing the wagon, threw it into the air, dashing it to pieces, and breaking the collar bone and arm of Mr. Pearce. The horse, disengaged from the wagon, escaped with the fore wheels, and the elephant gave chase for eight miles, but did not catch him.— The elephant came back from his unsuccessful pursuit, and look up Ins march again on the main road, where he next encountered Mr. J. Eddy, with a horse arid wagon. He threw lip the whole t'stablishment the same as before, smashing the wagon, killing the horse, and wounding Mr. Eddy. He threw the horse twenty feet over a fence, into the adjoining lot, Freedom of Thought and Opinion. then broke down the fence, wentoverand pick ed up the dead hoise, and deposited him in the road, where he had first met him. He killed one other horse, and pursued an other, who fled to the barn; the elephant follow ed, but at the door was met by a fierce hull-dog, which bit his leg and drove him off. Once on the route, the keeper being ahead of him, saw him plunge over a wall and make for a house. The keeper got into the house first, hurried the frightened people within to the upper story, and providing himself with an axe, succeeded in driving off'the furious beast. The elephant finally exausted his strength, and laid himself down in the bushes, about two miles from Slade's Ferry; here he was secured with chains, and carried over the ferry to Fall River. A part of the time he ran at the rate of a mile in three minutes. Fearful Encounter with a Burglar by a London Jeweller. Mr. John Richards, a rich London jeweller, had a fearful romantic adventure, which is desci i bed in one of the papers. While sitting in his parlor on a Sunday night with his wife, he tho't he saw a face at the window. Quick as thought he put his wife from him and darted across the room, flung open the casement and gazed into the night, but could see nothing. "What is the matter ?" asked his wife anxi ouslv. "Why I thought I saw a man ! exclaimed he. Then stepping to the door and opening it he cal led and inquired of his servant—"Are the out er gates closed?" "I secured them mvself, at nightfall." "Well, see that the doors are barred, and— good night." An hour elapsed, and the servants had retir ed to rest; his wife had sought her chamber.— Above the staircase on the second story of the house a powerful alarm-bel! had been erected, and from it diverged wires that passed down the wails, and were skilfully and secretly at tached to the principal chamber doors, leaving it in the power of the occupant of the room to set or loose at will the springs connected with the wire above {hp door; but should the dorm be accidentally moved or an entry attempted by a strange hand, the entire machinery was instant ly.set in motion, and the alarm effectually spread. Richards went to the door to set the spring; but before doing so he opened it, and looked for a moment through the staircase window, when a light sharp crack startled him, and he listen ed.' There was a stealthy footstep on the ianding! Naw again all was still. His suspicions were aroused; he thought of the face at the window, and he shuddered. fie drew a poinarti fiout his breast—a tveapon that be always kept, and waited, and listened, with his glance fixed up ori the handle of a door—and, as he looked, he distinctly saw it move. "Who's there?" he demanded in a loud tone, and grasped the poinard firmly. The burglar finding the door locked and re sisting his efforts, threw his whole weight heavily against it, and burst violently into the room. The alarm wire was broken by the shock, but the hell rung out a fearful peal. The man was masked, and in his hand he held a horse pistol, which was leveled at Kichards; but the unexpected hell unnerved his arm, the doubtful iight cheated his aim. and the bullets whizzed through the hau of Richards, while the large mirror was crashed into atoms. "Help ! help !" he exclaimed, as he dashed away the chair that was before him. The as sailant saw his failure, and in an instant drew a knife from Ins girdle, with his left hand, and, uttei ing a Spanish oath, rushed upon Richards with the butt-end of his uplifted pistol. Swift as thought, the jeweller darted from the spot and his assailant, unprepared for the movement, was carried hv his own force beyond the mark, and stumbled. Like a tiger Richards sprung upon him, and struck him in the back with his poinard; the kepn blade passed through the lungs into the heart, and the wretched robber fell heavily upon the earth—a corpse. In a moment the room was filled, and the frighten. d wife clung to her husband and thank ed God for her safety. On examining the body he was recognized as a Spaniard, who had but a short time before sold Mr. Richards some very valuable diamonds. He had been driven to des peration at the gaming table. Mr. Richards was acquitted of all blame in killing the mons ter. SHOCKING CASE or Hi HROPHOIIIA. —About three weeks since Mr. John Crookson, foreman of Semple's foundry, was bitten by a mad dog. The wound was healed up, and nothing further thought of it, until Thursday evening last, when he complained of feeling unwell. Yesterday morning he was taken with convulsive spasms, which gradually increased towards noon, when he became so violent as to require the strength of six or seven people to hold him. His ap pearance was shocking in the extreme, foaming from the mouth, his eyps protruding from his head, and his limbs wildly and convulsively tossed about, as the spasms seizpd him. Ever and anon he would shriek for water, and again entreat those around hirr not to drown him. A little after noon, the worst symptoms presented themselves, and shortly after one o'clock, the poor fellow died in the greatest agony. Drs. Bassett and Avery were in constant attendance, but all the remedies applied appeared to produce no sensible effect. Mr. Crookson was a young man of about thirty years old, very industrious and much respected. He leaves a young wife and two children to mourn his untimely end. This is the first death of the kind that has taken place in this city during the season, but if what we hear be true, viz: that the same dog bit sev eral other persons, more deaths of a frightful na ture may be anticipated. The city press called repeatedly for the enforcement of the dog ordi nance before the council took action on it, and it is much to be regretted its admonitions were not heeded.—Cirt. Commercial, 3d. THE ALLIED FLEETS IN THE BALTIC AND BLACK SEAS. —We have received the following details of the most recent operations in the Bal tic, at Hangoe Roads, on May 23d : The allied fleets, with the commander-in chief, arrived 011 the 20tij ult., and anchored within range (extreme) of the enemies guns. — The walls and embrasures were crowded with the Russian soldieis, who stood at their quar ters as they approached. They did not fire.— The ships and forts thus remained, silently watching each's movements, until May 22d, when the programme waataltered for que of a more exciting character. Three forts protect the entrance to the har bor, massive structures, composed of huge blocks of granite, casemented, evidently armed with guns as u elLas mortars. The principal lort, called Gustavus Syard, sweeps the approach to the harbor with a long tier of guns cnbrirbetia , and also from casemalo batteries beneath. Two other forts, Doman's Holm and Gustavus Adolphus, to the eastward of the central fort, rake the entrance, and are pierced with embtasurps looking to seaward.— The shore all around is covered with masked batteries, raised in commanding positions, con cealed by trees and branches, and not very readily distinguished. In the afternoon of May 22d, the B. S. Dra gon, Captain Wilcox, was ordered to take up a position close by an island. She immediately opened tire. The first shot (the experimental one) was good in direction, but fell a very lit tle short; the second struck the fort about the centre of the wall; the succeeding ones com menced ploughing up the turf forming the breast work on the summit for the walls, and sending the facines and sand bags flying into the fort in profusion. After the second or third rjbot the fort replied. The ship and lort thus continued the engagement for about three and a half hours, during which several of the Dragon's shells burst right over the centre of the fort, and must have caused severe loss. The Magicienne was ordered, somewhat later in the day, to a corresponding position on the opposite side of the small, narrow, rocky island in question, and opened an effective fire upon one of the masked batteries on the land side, in to which she threw several shells. The battery replied with shell, and it is thought, with hot shot, but the Magicienne was evidently out of range. The Basilisk next joined the group.— The Dragon alone had any casualties—one man was killed and another wounded. She was struck three or four times. The Arrogant and Hecla took a fort of four guns, and after a spirited engagement with the Russian troops, on the banks of a narrow river, succeeded in capturing a beautiful bark. by a letter are of chite 28tJ), from Co penhagen. They state that on the 21st, Sir Charles .Napier lay before Hangoe Point and was prepared to bombard the fortress of Gusta vsvern. Admiral Plumiidge, with the flying squadron, had been sent on special service tothe Gulf of Bothnia. Admiral Corrv lay at Gottska Sondo-*. Stock holm letteis of 23d mention nothing of Napier having captured Gustavsvern. The Lifetime of Man. When the world was created, and all crea | tares assembled to have their lifetime appoint ed, the ass first advanced and asked how long ; he would have to live. "Thirty years," replied j Nature ; "will that be agreeable to thee?" "Alas! " answered the ass. "it is a long while! Remember what a wearisome existence will be mine , from morning until night I shall have to bear heivv burdens, dragging corn sacks to the mill, that others may eat bread, while I shall , have no encouragement, nor he refieshed by j anything, but blows and kicks. Give but a i portion of that time, I prav!" Nature was moved with compassion, and presented but I eighteen years. The ass went away comforted, and the dog came forward. "How long dost thou require to live?" asked Nature. "Thirty 1 years were too many for the ass, but wilt thou Ibe contented with them?" "Is it thy will that I should? " replied the flog. "Think how much I shall have to run about ; my feet will not last for so long a time, and when 1 shail have lost mv voice for barking, and my teeth for biting, what else shall I he fit for but to lie in the corner and growl !" Nature thought he was right, and gave twelve years. The ape then appeared. "Thou wilt doubtless, willing- V live the thirty years," said Nature; "thou wilt not have to labor as the ass and tiie dog.— Life will be pleasant to thee." "Ah no!" eried he, "so it may seem to others, but it will not be ! Should puddings ever rain down, I shail have no spoon ! I shall play merry tricks, and excite laughter bv my grimaces, and then be re warded with a sour apple. How often sorrow lies concealed behind a jest! I shall not be a ble to endure for thirty years." Nature was gracious, and he received but ten. At last carr.e man, healthy and slrong, and asked the measure of his days. "Wilt thirty years content thee ?" "How short a time ! ' ex claimed man. "When 1 shall have built my house, and kindled a fire on my own hearth— when the trees I shall have planted are about to bloom and hear fruit me most desiiable, I sh§xl die! O Nature,grant me a longi-r period !"' "Thou shalt have the eighteen years of the ass beside." "That is not enough," replied man. "Take likewise the twelve years of the dog." "It is not yet suffi cient," reiterated man; "give me more?" "I give thee then the ten years of the ape; in vain wilt thou claim more !" Man departed unsatis fied. Thus man lives seventy years. The first thirty are his human years, and pass swiftly by. He is then healthy and happy. He laborscheer fully, ariu rejoices in his existence. The eigh teen of the ass come next, burden, upon burden is heaped ujion him, he carries the corn that is to feed others; blows and kicks are the Awards of his faithful service. The twelve years of TERMS, S3 PER YEAR. VOL XXII, NO. 46. 1 the dog follow, and he loses his teeth, and lies in a corner, and growls. When these are gone the ape's ten years form the conclusion. Then man, weak and silly, becomes the sport ofchil dren.—Translated from the German. The Bliud Heslored. An estimable old lady, .Mrs. ECOLF, well known in our borough, a few days ago gave us the particulars of an operation performed on her eyes for cataract, which we think is worthy of general circulation, in order that those simi arly afflicted may also find relief. Her state ment simply was, that some fifteen years ago, she unfortunately lost the sight ot one of her eyes: and within the last two years, that of the other—being then perfectly blind in both eyes. Whilst thus sitting in the midst of darkness and gloomy despondency, she was advised to go to Harrisburg and consult Dr. GICOKCE DOCK, re lative to her case. To this she acceded, and had an operation performed on each eye by that gentleman, without the least pain. So perfect was the success of these operations, that now, but a few weeks since she left her gloomy home,she returns with sight in both eyes, her aged heart gladdened to ecstacy, and overflowing with gratitude toward her deliverer. The above case is one of peculiar interest.— Siie is seventy-four years of age. The cause of her blindness was a bad form of cataract-—one that none but the boldest and most skillful Sur geon would have undertaken, requiring to be cut out with the knife—an operation which we believe Surgeons call "extraction." And pos sessing, as Dr. Dock certainly does, a high rank among his professional brethren, and a merited, widespread reputation as a skillful Surgeon, we think this another laurel worthy of his envia ble wreath. Carlisle Democrat. A Keasotiiug Fox. We often find the reasoning of man contract ed with the instinct of brutes, in a manner in dicating that tlie reasoning faculty is peculiar toouriaoe. Pope seems to have thought"he was conceding their full claim to the sagacity of the animal creation, when he allowed half reasoning powers to the elephant; yet even the groveling creature which he places at the low er end of the scale, sometimes manifest a species of sagacity, more easily explained by assigning to it a poition of the comparing power, than in any other manner. A careful observation of the actions of the in ferior races, would probably had to the convic tion, that few, if any of them are destitute of the reasoning faculty. The objects to which their reasoning extend being fewer than those which engage the human intellect, their range of ratio cination is much more limited; hence, the con clusions to which their reasoning leads, are probably less frequently incorrect than ours.— The complicated character and ample range of our ratiocination, no doubt often involve us in error, from which the simple and direct argu mentation of the brutes are free. Hence the ap parently superior accuracy of instinct to reason. It is well known that the animals which are nut too powerful or fierce to be domesticated, are susceptible of instruction: hence it is clear that their acts are not all instinctive.— Friends' Review. "A certain Jagare, who was one morning; keeping watch in the forest, observed a fox cautiously making his approach to the stump of an old tree. When sufficiently near, he took a high and determined leap to the top of it: and after looking around awhile hopped to the ground again. After Reynard hsi repeated this knightly exercise several times, he went away; but presently he returned to the spot, bearing a pretty large and heavy piece of dry oak in his mouth; and thus burdened, and as it would seem for the purpose oftesting his vault ing powers, he renewed his leaps on the stump. After a time, however, and when he found that, weighed as he was, he could make the ascent with facility, he desisted from further efforts, dropped the piece of wood, and, coiling him self upon the stump, remained motionless as if dead. At the approach of evening, an old sow and her progenv, five or six in number, is sued from a neighboring thicket, and pursuing their usual tiack, passed near to the stump in question. Two of her sucklings followed some what behind the rest, and just as they neared his ambush, Michel, with the rapicity of thought, darted down from his perch upon one of them, and in the twinkling of an eye bore it in triumph to the fastness he had providently prepared beforehand. Confounded at the shrieks of her offspring, the old sow returned in fury to the spot, and till late in the night made des perate attempts to storm the murderer's strong hold; but the fox took the matter very coolly, and devoured the pig under the very nose of its mother, who at length with great reluctance, and without being able to revenge herself 011 her crafty adversary, was forced to beat a re treat."—lJoy<rs Scandinavian Adventures. THE LATE RAILROAD ACCIDENT IN CANADA.— The Buffalo Commercial has the following par ticulars of the fatal accident on the Great Wes tern Railway, near London, C. W., on Friday last. The baggage car was entirely smashed to pie ces. The second-class car was very badly bro ken. The first-class car was not much injured. In the second class car were a number of Nor wegian emigrants, who, it is reported, were travelling East by mistake. The scene in the car was very horrible. Six persons—five men and one woman were instantly killed, and lour others so much injured as to die the same night. In the first class car several persons mere slightly injured. One gentleman, resid ing in the interior of New York State, was standing on the platform, from which he jump ed down the embankment, and the cars falling on him killed him instantly. We have not yet learned his name. The persons injured weie taken to London and Hamilton, and their inju ries attended to.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers