TOIjUWE 55. NEW SERIES. THE BEDFORD GAZETTE PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING BY MEYERS BEN FORD, At the following terms, to wit: 51.50 per annum, CASH, in advance. $2.00 " " if paid within the year. .50 if not paid within the year. C7"No subscription taken for less than six months. paper discontinued until all arrearages are paid, unless at the option of the publishers. It has been decided by the United Slates Courts, that the stoppage of a newspaper without the payment of ar rearages, is pn'ma facie evidence ot iraud and is a criminal offence. U7"The courts have, decided that persons are ac countable for the subscription priee of newspapers, if they take them fiom the post office, whether they subscribe for them, or not. P o t t r g. THE COUNTRY GIRL. BY ST. CLAIR LAWRENCE. The red rose bloometh on her cheek, The modest violet in her face, The one doth of her beauty speak, The other telleth of her grace, The one an index to her health, The other to her heart, (rich pearl, 1 ) But speaketh clear the priceless wealth And sweetness cf the country girl. There's happy joy within her words, And music in her merry song, Which like the warbling of the birds, Alone to woodland wilds belong, No plaintive lay of birds confined, Amidst the city's dizzy whirl, Or saddened note w as e'er designed As music for the country girl. She wears no gay attire, 'tis true, Or gaudy trappings bought with pelf, No precious .tones of emerald hup, But then she is a gem herself. A princly gem, more rich by far, Than that possessed by Count or Earl— A beauteous, bright and shining star Of virtue, is the country girl. Original. For the Bedford Gazette. TALENT vs. GENIUS. I will endeavor to give an explanation of, and contrast the two great powers of the hu man mind, genius and talent. There is an idea prevalent that the terms genius and talent are synonymous, which is certainly very erro n-ous. The idea that a man ol genius must be I a man of talent, and vice versa, is incorcect in j nil its bearings. A man may possess genius, and yet lack the talent of putting into execu tion the ideas that his mind conceives, and on the contrary, a man may have the talent of imitating, or executing an idea that some geni us has given birth to, and yet lack all the ele ments inherent in genius. Webster tells us that "talent diflers from genius in this, that the latter implies something more creative and original, while talent implies superior powers of attainment or execution." By thelerir. genius, we mean that peculiar quality cl the mind that conceives, originates, or invents something new without reference to anything that has exi.-ted before; while, by the term talent, we mean that quality of the mind which can turn the conception or invention to a practicable account. The man of geniui generally lives in an isolated element of his own—in an imaginary world of his own creation—and though he may be surrounded by hosts of admiring friends, he feels himself lost in the great crowd. He walks the thronged streets, or rides in the crowded train, wrapped in the exclusiveness cf his own ideas, dead to all outward emotions, insensible to all ill ivial occuiret.ces. The life of a man of genius, it would appear to those who are not gif led like him, is un happy in the extreme. His habits are morose and entirely unsocial, and consequently he does not seem calculated for the domestic cir cle. He has surrounded himself with an at mosphere peculiar to himself, is revelling in imagination in other climes and among other scenes, and his mind dwells upon other objects than those which are sailing on the surface of society. His views seem so far-fetched, his ideas so exalted, his perceptions so acute, that they cannot be understood, or appreciated by the vulgar herd, and hence he cannot find pleasure in their society. And yet with, all his ecentricities, do not imagine tiiat lie en joys no happiness. Amidst domestic broils and inapprecialive fi iends, though the cold eye and callous heart of society scarcely acknowledge his existence, though he meet with the scorn and contempt and persecution of the world, yet, notwithstanding all these drawbacks to his social happiness, he has bliss unalloyed.— When his labors have proved successful and he has accomplished same great work in poetry, painting, sculpture, music, science, or mechan ics, when his hopes have arrived at a full f ui tion, and his most sanguine expectations reali zed, his happiness is greater than words can describe, or common minds comprehend. But then, again, when unsuccessful, when untiring MJorts have been for naught, when fond ar.tici — I pations have turned out delusive, then, indeed, does he deserve our condolence. Ah! to think of the gloom and despondency that enshrouds his mind, and the night-mare of despair that crushes his soul. Hut the man of talent—he who but cares about the ideas of others, but criticises, or per ' fects them —is a different individual altogether, j He is no cosmopolitan; he does not exist in an I element uncongenial toothers; he is generally | a man after every man's heart; he is one of I your "hail fellows well met." The works of genius are often not valued during the natural lifeof him who performs them, and he does not reap the reward of fame on the instant, yet, generally, years after he has left this stage of action, h's name receives its merited homage.— The works of genius frequently have reference to the future and hence are not comprehended. Not so with the operations of talent; they are confined to thp present, and hence their appre ciation is instantaneous. But ages hence, when the achievements of talent shall have sunk into the pool of oblivion, the works of genius shall be displayed in all their original splendor, and the names of those they glorified shall be stamped with an undying immortality. Genius is not the effect of education, it is a natural, innate power of the mind. True, edu cation will often arouse its otherwise dormant faculties, and, no doubt, for the want of it, many a man of genius has gone to his long home, "Unhonored and unsung." Talent is influenced to a much greater ex tent by education. The natural powers must exist, of course, but they are more dependent upon education for development, than the powers of genius. The completes! education imaginable, cannot make a poet, painter, or mechanic, in the strict sense of those terms, yet genius has been displayed without the ad vantage of education. Education may qualify a man of talent to produce a painting, make a statue, or write a sonnet, yet neither of these will contain a spark of originality. But the man who is endowed with a mind which is composed of a combination of both genius and talent, and has received an educa tion calculated to develop them fully and effi ciently, is an pnviable being, indeed. Few and rare have been such minds, but occasional ly, at distant intervals, they have appeared, taking the world by surprise, and by their radiant splendor, so far outshining the lesser intellectual lights as the sun outshines the stars. A certain writer has said that Genius with out judgment, or judgment without gpnius, only makes half a great character; it is the combi nation of creaiive genius with controlling judg ment, that forms the truly great man. Charles XII was an example of genius, without judg ment; Wellington of judgment without genius; while Napoleon was a magnificent example of the two combined. Whatever path of life a man pursues, it his mind unites the qualities of genius and Judgment, he will surely make himself great in his particular sohere of action. It will be observed by the foregoing that a man may be a genius, may invent, create, or originate, yet not have the talent to make practical use of the fruits ot his great powers. The man of talent steps in, avails himself of the original suggestions of genius, turns them to advantage, gains all the pelf and wins ail the laurels that of right pertained to the latter. The man of talent, worldly speaking, gene rally prospers, while the reverse is the case with genius. It is evident, then, that talent is not to be despised, and that its possessor is rich Iv' endowed, no matter what his Pecuniary circum stances may be. The man of genius, who is deficient in judgment, or in talent, is deprived of the main essential to his happiness, the qual ity of sociality. Consequently, genius without the aid of talent, is not so much to be desired, but when the two qualities are in unison they form a mind of the loftiest nature—an intellect which is the most precious boon bestowed on mortal man by his Divine Author. H. Conundrums. — When are two potatoes pre cisely alike ? When they are pared (paired.) Where are balls and routs supplied gratis ? On a field of bat! le. Why is a chimney sweep like a lucky play er at whist? Because he has the suit (soot) in his hand. What Grecian piece was copied from a cele brated Dutch painter ? "The City of Trop," la ken after Tenriiers, (ten years.) What is the difference between a fool and a looking-glass. One speaks without teflectiug and the other reflects without speaking. When a king is dethroned, who sutler most, King or people ? The King loses a crown, the people lose a sovereign. Why isn't a reporter like a policeman ? Be cause one takes down what the other lakes ... v\ hat is the difference between a duck with one wing and a duck with two? It is merely a difference of a pinion. BEDFORD. PA, FRIDAY MORNING, MAY 6. 1859. > A Russian Wolf-hunt. s He translate the following slorv irom a late [ number of M. Dumas' newspaper. It is an extract trome one of his letters fto n St. Peters burg : ! Wolf hunting and bear hunting are the fa vorite pleasures ol the Russians. Wolves are hunted in this way in the winter, when the wolves being hungry are lerocious. Three or four huntsmen, each armed with a double bar red-d gun, get into a troika, which is any sort ola carriage drawn by three horses—its name being derived from its team and nit its form. The middle horse trots always ; the left hand and right hand horses must alwavs gallop.— The middle horse trots with his head hanging down, and he is called '.he Snow-Eater. The two others have only one rein, and they are fastened to the poles by the middle of the body, and gallop their heads free; they are called the I urious. The tmka is driven by a sure coach man, if there is such a thing in the world as a sure coachman. A pig is tied to the rear of the vehicle by a rope, or a chain, (for greater security,) some twelve yards long. The pig is kept in the vehicle until the huntsmen reach the lorest where the hunt is to take place, when he is taken out and the horses started. The pig, not being accustomed to this gate, squeals, and his squeals soon degenerate into lamenta tions. His cries bring out one wolf, who gives the pig chase ; then two wolves, then three, then ten, then fifty wolves—alPposting as hard as they can go after the poor pig, fighting among themselves for the best places, snapping and striking at the jxior pig at every opportunity who squeals with despair, there squeals of agony arouse all the wolves in the forest, within a circuit of three miles, and the troika is followed by an immense flock of wolves. It is now that a good duver is indispensable. The horses have an instinctive horror of wolves, and go almost crazy ; they run as fast as they can go. The huntsmen fire as fast as they can load—there is no necessity to tak° any aim.— The pig squeals—the horses neigh the wolves ' hoivl—the guns rattle ;itis a concert to make ' Mephistopheles jealous. As long as the driver commands his horses, fast as they may be run ning away, there is no danger. But, if he; cea-e to be master of them ; if they baulk, if the troika is upset, there is no hope. The next day, or the day alter, or a week afterwards, j nothing will remain of the party but the wreck of the troika, the barrels of the guns, and the larger bones of the horses, huntsmen and th-iuur Last winter Prince R-pnine went on one of these hunts, and it came very near being his j last hunt. He was on a visit with two of his | friends to one of his estates near the steppe, and | they determined logo 011 a wolf hunt. Thev prepared a large sleign in which three could move at ease, three vigorous horses were put into it, and they selected lor a driver a man born in the country and thoroughly experienced in the sport. Every huntsman had a pair of j double barrelled guns and a hundred and fifty ball cartriges. It was night when they reached i the steppe that is, an immense praiiie covered with snow. The moon was full, and shone I brilliantly ; its beams refracted by the snow gave a light scarcely interior to day-light.— The pig was put out of the sleigh and th- hor ses whipped up. As soon the pig felt that he was dragged he began to squeal. A wolf or two appeared, but they were timid, and kept a long way off. Their number gradually in creased, and as their number augmented they ! became bolder. There were about twenty wolves when they tame within gun range of 1 the troika. One of the party fired ; a wolf fell. The flock became alarmed and half fl-nl , away. Seven or eight hungry wolves re- 1 rnained behind to devour their dead companion. ■ 1 lie gaps were soon tilled. On every side howls answered howls, cn evey side sharp noses and brilliant eyes were seen peering.— The guns ratt'ed volley after volley. Bufthe ' flock of wolves increased instead ol diminishing, and soon it was not a flock, but a vast herd of wolves in thick serried columns which gave chase to the sleigh. The wolves bounded fur-| ward so rapidly they seemed to fly over the snow, and so lightly, not a sound was heard ; j their numbers continued to increase, and in crease, and increase ; they seemed to be a silent tide drawing nearer and nearer, and on which the guns of the party, rapidly as they were di>- , charged, had no effect. The wolves formed a vast crescent, whose horns began to encom pass the horses. Their number increased so rapidly they seemed to spring out ofthe ground. I here was something weird in their appearance, for where could three thousand wolves come from in such a desert of snow I The party had taken the pig into the sleigh ; his squeal in creased the wolves' boldness. The party con tinued to fire, but they had now used above hall theirammunition, and had but tw-o hundred ! cartridges left, while thev were surrounded by j three thousand wolves. The two horns ofthe I crescent became nearer and nearer, and threatened to envelop the party. II one of the horses should have given out the fate of the j whole party was sealed. "What do you think i of this, Ivan 1" said Prince Repnine, speaking j to the driver. "1 had rather be at home, ! Prince." "Are you alraid of any evil conse- . quences ? ' "The devils have tasted blood, j and the more you fire the more wolves you'll 1 have." " What do you think is the best thing to be done !" "Make the horses go faster."— I "Are you sure of the horses ? "Yes, Prince." "Are you sure of our safety?" The driver made no reply. He quickened the horses and turned thir heads toward home. The horses flew faster than ever. The driver excited them to increased speed by a sharp whistle, and made them describe a curve which intersected one of the horo3 of the crescent. The wolves opened the ir ranks and let the horses pass. . The Prince raised his gun to his shoulder. "For God's sake.' don't fire)" exclaimed the driver,""we are dead men if you do !" He obeyed Ivan. The wolves, astonished by this Freedom of Thought and Opinion. lun'xpected act, remained motionless for a minute. During this minute the troika was a verst from them. When the wolves started again after it was too late, they could not j overtake it. A quarter of an hour afterwards they were in sight of home. Prince Repnine thinks his horses ran at least six miles in these fifteen minutes. He rode over the steppe the next da)\ and found the bones of more than two hundred wolves. 1 SAYINGS FROM DOW JR'S RECENT PATENT SEKMO NS. ON ASTROLOGY. "Mj hearers, what is an astrologer but a mere mortal after all ? He can no more hursi open the iron-barred doors of the future, than he can see through a mill stone. He may feel tlie pulse of the stars to find out the why and the wherefore of corns, cholera, head-ache, toolh-ache, dyspepsia, and the sprue ; he riav tell how city lots and the lots of individuals will turn out ; he may pretend to all this ; but he knows no more about it than a pewter dog. There isjust as much dependence to be placed upon his predictions as there is upon the signs of a coming storm when an oid rair. stands with his tail to the north-east. Study yourselves, mv hearers ; peruse carefully your hearts, and their inclinations: and let all astrologers pass to spring fodder; or in other words, go to grass." SLEEP TO THE GUILTY. "Th-e man who hack-bites his neighbor : who acts dishonestly, lives immorally, and votes spuriously : who louoges lazily ; judges rash ly ; and condemns instantly; who throws a quid of tobacco into the contribution box, and takes ! out a three cent piece to buy more; such a sinner cannot coax sleep to his bed-side. She I won't do it : he may fall into a snooze : he may \ partake of the first section of a "cat nap hut ; ere he is awake a skeleton nightmare looks in ' at the window, and gives a horse-laugh at his < misery !" i SLEEP TO THE INNOCENT. ;i On (he other hand, my hparers, look at the man who goes to bed with the sense of having done his duty to his Maker, his neighbor, and himself. He falls calmly asleep in the arms of Somnus, who beckons his friend Morpheus, while Reason slumbers, to come and guide his wandering fancy over the blissful world of dieams. Is he a business man ?—the banks pay specie, and discount freely. Is he a lawyer vria clients art* all and lull of cuittf Is he a preacher like myself ? his sheep yield good fleeces, and are content with such fodder as they get. Oh !my hearers, it is a blessed thing to lie down at night with a light stomach and conscience. You ought to see me sleep sometimes ! —fourteen mile a 'our, andsurroun din'objecks rendered inwisible by the extreme welocity with which I snooze." TIIE DISCONTENT OF HUMANITY. "Man, my hearers, is the fretful babe of trouble and care. He often frets because he can't find anything to fret about. You give him his own way, and he don't like it : he wants his own way of haying his own way. I know the world ; nobody has looked sharper than I have, for a chance of honest happiness in it: hut the bubbles that rise on the stream of Time are altogether vanity. I've been down the stream, and I've watched the blubbers rand I tell yon, my hearers, that all along by the mar gin of said stream, nests of young humbugs are continually being hatched." LOVE. "Love, like electricity, pervades all bodies. My heart sinks into my trousers pocket, when I meditate upon the evil which it has caused. Look at yon miserable self martyr, with the fire of liquid perdition gleaming through his car buncle nose : the pangs of despised love pour through every pore of his ruby proboscis. What constitutes the staple ol his hard reflections ? tears, kisses, partings, saw-dust, soft-sawder and soft-soap ?" THE HOUSE OF THE HUMAN BODY. "I liken the human body to a house. The big bones are the main timbers. The ribs are laths, well plastered—or rather rafters, that run into the ridge-pole, or back-hone. The mouth is the door, and the nose is the chimney, especially for smokers. The throat is the en try, that leads to the kitchen of the stomach, where all sorts of food art. cookpd. The lungs are the bellows, that blow the flame of life and keep the pot of existence always boiling ; but the heart is the great chamber, where a great variety of goods are stored : some good, more middling, many bad. My hearers, if you have any rubbish in that chamber, clear it out, and make room for goods which are saleable in the markets of the virtuous. The chambers of some hearts present an awful dirty "appearance. Take the bran new broom of decision, brush out the dirt of sin, and sand the floor with vir tue." URON EGOTISM ANC DANDIES. "I detest egotism and vanity as a cat does a wet floor. There are some vain persons in this world, who after a long incubation will hatch out from the hot-bed of pride a sickly brood of fuzzy ideas, and then go strutting along in the path of pomposity, with all the self importance of a speckled hen, with a black chicken. I have an antipathy to such people." Tenegades from the Democratic par ty now, resemble those who deserted Gen. Jackson's administration during the U. S. Bank controversy. They only defeated themselves, not the party ; and the traitors of the present dav will be the victims, not those they have left. 'CF*"Should you happen to catch yourself whistling in a printing office, and the printers tell you to whistle louder—don't you do it. I DISCOVERY OF NOAH'S ARK. | I It appears that in the eastern portion of that good old State whose stapie productions are . "pitch, tar, tnrpentiae and lumber," some re markable fossil discoveries have been recently made, among which, is what appeared to be a portion of a vessel's deck, some forty feet in length and bearing a close resemblance to lig nite. The time has been when the discovery of such a remarkable fossiliferous specimen would have set the geologists and archaeolo gists of the country on their heads ; but at this enlightened period of the world's history, when ; the duty of not only managing, but explaining all things terrestrial, has devolved upon a class ot men known as editors, it excites no surprise; ffir the simple reason that, whatever occurs on the earth, or whatever is discovered above or beneath, or in the wafers around it, is certain of a speedy arid satisfactory solution. See how easily the editor of the Wilmington Herald set tles this fossil matter : "How came Ihis vestige of human labor and j art !her