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.