BY DAVID OVER.
gUmva?-.
THE LITTLE GRAVE.
••It's only a little grave," they said,
Onlv just a child that's dead,"
And so tiiey car 1 ssly turned away
From the mound the spade had made that day.
Ah, they did Bot kuow how deep a shads
That little grave in our home had made.
I know the coffin was narrow and small,
One yard would serve for an ample pall;
Au 1 one man in Lis arms could have borne away
The rosebud and its freight of clay,
But I know that darling hopes were hid
Beneath that coffin-lid.
I knew that a mother had stood that day,
With folded hands by that lorta of clay;
I know that burning teais were hid,
•• 'Neath the drooping lash an 1 aching lid;"
And I knew her lip, and cheek and brow,
Were almost as white as her baby's now.
1 knew that svme things were hid away.
The crimsc u frock, ai.d wrappings gay;
The tittle seek and the half-worn shoo,
The cap with its plumes and tassels blue;
And an trnptv crib with its covers spread,
As white as the face of the sinl -ss dea l.
'Tis a little grave, but, oh ! IK Ware!
For the world-wide hopes are buried there.
And ye, perhaps, in coming years,
May see, like be, through blinding tears.
How much of I'ght, how much ot joy,
Is burried up with an only boy I
"SUMMER IS DEAD."
Hush ! teli it not to the fl>wers and trees,
Whisper It not to the birds and the breezy
Let not the blossoms of crimson and b'u s
Hear the sad"tale though its burden be true,
Sumni' i is dead !
Hush ! for the son hath suspended its breath,
Peering to catch the first summons of death;
An l the bright clouds that are passing away
Fair must drop tears cou'd tiny hear what you say,
Summer is dead !
Aye! though her m uitle of glory be still
Spread over garden and meadow and bill—
Though the rich bloom hath no touch of decay,
And the bee toils thr- ugli the long sunny day.
Summer is dead !
Aye 1 it i 3 ended ! From f "rcst and glen,
From cities alive with the conflict of men,
From the grass ut our L et, for the now silent bird
From earth, sea and sky, in cur spirits is heard,
Summer is dead !
5o rr.ut h of our glory and gladness is left,
We sigh not as those of her presence bereft;
tier cicwn aud her girhunts unfaded are hucg
U here they dropped when asi 'e tVey were careless
ly flung;
Sun nier is dead!
How GREELEY ENJOYED TUE SERMON AT
SALT LAKE.—Horace is a philosopher without
doubt, and the way *lO enjoyed the Sabbath at
Suit Lake, a correspondent of the Syracuse
Standard relates as follows:
'Wo attended the Mormon Church this
morning. teaching Ly Elder Orson Pratt.
Horace Greeley was present, and sat inside the
railing with the twelve Apostles. Mr. Bam-
I eisel sat on one side, Judge Phelps on the
other, and Helcr 0. Kiiuball in front. Horace
took :n exhausted survey of ihc female part
of the house, cocked his eye up at the speaker
as if he were looking at a giraffe, braced him
self against one saint, leaned his head against
auotber, and wcut sound asleep, as if he bad
been in bed, with his mouth wide open. I nev
er felt so proud of uiy native land as I did
wheu I saw its able representative trcaiiDg the
whold d d thing with silent oontemp', by
"rolling into the arms tf Murphy." {lrish
quotation from Heaihcn Mythology.) The
singing was decidedly Presbyterian—the or
che tra consisting of one small organ and four
singers."
-
BENEDICT ARNOLD AND THE LAW OF
LIBEL.—Mr. Everett, m his 39th number,
(closing three-fourths of his whole series) says
of Arnold:
"i cannot refrain from repeating another an
ecdote of him, recorded by Mr. Sab no, whi'-b
'brows a dismal light on tbo repute in which he
was held iu a community where it might have
been expected, if anywhere, that he would
have been kindly viewed. After the revolu
ti mary war, lie established hiuiself in some
ort ot husiuess at St. Johns, New Brunswick,
which was principally settled by American
loyalists. 11 is warehouse, and the merchan
dise tn it, being fully insured, were destioyed
by fire, and Arnold was charged in a newspa
per with having himself set fire to the build
ing, in order to get tbo insurance, which was
largely beyond tho value of the property. He
prosecuted the publisher of the paper for a li
bel, laid tho damages at thousands, and recov
ered by the verdict of the jury two and six
pence • Such WHS the estimate formed by a
St. Johns jury of bis probi'v.
A Weekly Paper, Devoted to Literature, Politics, the Arts, Sciences, Agriculture, See., See— Terms: One Dollar and Fifty Cents in Advance.
Muvi c nltuval*
From, the American Agriculturalist.
OCTOBER*
"Distant woods and hills
Arc full of echoes, and each sound that strike 3
Upon the hollow air, lets loose their tongues.
The ripp'os creeping through the Watted crass, !
Drip on the ear, arid the far partridge drum
Rclis like low thunder. The last butterfly,
Like a winged violet floating in the meek
P ink colored sunshine, sinks his velvet leet
Within the pillar'd mullein's delicate down,
And shuts and opens his unruffled fans.
1 azily w ings the crow with solemn cronk
From tree-top on ti tree-top. Feebly chirps
The grasshopper, and the spider's tiny clock
Ticks from his crevice." — STBKKT.
It has been well said that loves to
die in bright colors." The frost has hastened
: the maturing of the leaf harvest, and the j
. foli -ge, that began to look "sere and yellow" j
1 in the last moDth, is now all aflame with the i
brilliant hectic flu?h that heralds tho closing I
scene. Look out upon these w ods,
so sadly beautiful, and yet uever more full of ,
promise and life, than when life seems to be 1
departing. Here stands a grand old maple,
every green leaf faded, as we say, but really
brightened with all the cheerful Lues in the
whole circle of colors—flatuing scarlet, crim
son, pink, violet, and yellow. It seems to j
have caught ail the graces of the sunset hour,
and like the god of day to make the last scene
the most glorious of all. The pepperridge is i
net less brilliant, though less varied in its!
coloring. The deep scarlet prevails cter all,;
3nd tho Virginia creeper that clings to its j
mossy trunk and iimbs, rivals the gaudy color
ing of the tree it has overgrown. Wherever !
we see plant new, clinging to |
tree?, climbing up the face of perpendicular
recks, or winding through deep fissures in the !
ledges, it wears the saute tieb, attractive dress.
Though a cemmon wild plant, and widely dis
tributed, it is too generally overlooked iu our
ornamental grounds. Nothing cm form a
more beautiful contrast, at this teas on, than
this p'ant trail ng oter w ills, along with the I
European ivy.
Here is a litckery grove, rejiisiog in the so
i crer tints ot biown and yellow, and making all:
our young fricuds r- juice in its harvest mts.—
What boy's heart docs not le.ap up at thf^goad
!y sight of the sbeilbirks, dispensing their
treasures by tho bushel. Here they come, a
whole 'roop of boys and girls, wiib brgs and
baskets; to secure the nut?, which the last
storiu has dislodged from the loaded boughs.--
There the nuts lie in bright contrast to the
brown shucks that enclosed them. Ooe of
lb >ui has a ladder an d a pole. He will climb
iuto the tree-top, and save the next storm the
trouble of beating off the nuts for his brothers
and sisters. PuS.ibly, too, he has heard of the f
old proverb "A bird in tho band is worth two j
in the bnviis," and thinks that these curs wiil
* ... i
be a great deal safer, in th'se days, in hi 3 bag 1
than io the tree top. j
Tie butternuts ere elosa by on the hillside, j
stretching out the'r broad limbs nearer the j
ground, and are easily shaken and gathetcd.
These nuts aro much larger ttau the hickory, j
and, though less known in the market, ere by •.
many preferred to the shellbark. Hut are ira- I
proved by cultivation, and we are glad to see
that our gardeners are turning their attention
to ihern. New seedlings hive beeu procured,im
proved in sizesnd quality. It is not improbable
that this field of improvement, when properly j
cultivated, will give us as brilliant results, as :
have been attained in the orchard aud vineyard.
It is hardly twenty years since the improve
ment of our Dative grapes has been generally
attempted, and already we havo numerous
seedlings, promising candidates for public fa
vor. These nuts, to our taste, arc quite equal !
to any thiug imported, and are worthy of the I
best efforts of our amateurs for their improve- ;
meet.
The chestnut is a more magnificent tree than j
either of the former, in the forest it attains j
a great height, and is particularly valuable for
its timber. In the open pasture, where it has j
ample room and good soil, it forms a broad ex- ;
p'in-ive bead, Uiakit g a striking object iu the ,
landscape. The ground is row covered with j
its burrs, and the browu nuts thafhavo rattled
out of them, one, two, and three, from each ,
prickly encasement.
In the southern part of cur country the chin- j
capio, or dwarf chestnut, is now shedding its
nuts. The tree is not mote thau fifteen or |
tweuty feet high, aud the nut is smaller than
the chestnut, but has tbo same delicious flavor, j
j Here also the stately pecan, oliv&furmis,
'is scattering its treasures. This tree belongs
BEDFORD. PA.. FRIDAY, OCTOBER 14, 1859
to the hickory family, and occupies tho same
position in the bottom lands and valleys of the
rivers emptying into the Gulf of Mexico, that
the shell barks do at the North. It has the
same general appearance, but grows to a larger
size, and makes a broader head. The nuts are
oblong, very smooth, an inch, or an inch and
a half long, wiili thin rhells. They are by
most persons regarded as superior to the lest
sh "iiburk-. They form an increasing article of
trade iu Texas and Louisiana. Amateurs iu the
lower Mississippi valley are beginuing to raise
seebliugs, and to improve them by cultivation.
Now also the hazels along the wulls and
i fences aro dropping their nuts into the thick
bed of leaves, and the squirrels are rivaling
tbo beys iu gathering them up for Wiuter
stores. The filberts of commerce, twice or
j
three times the size of the wild nut, are simply
j cultivated hazel nuts. They are a good ex
; ample of the results of art bestowed upon
j these wild nut-bearing trees and shrubs.—
There is hardly a more promising fitdd open to
j the horticulturist, than the improvement of
these farinaceous Duts, with which our country
j abounds. By selecting seeds of the best va
| rie'ies, plantiug them iu a good, rich soil, and
giving them generous cultivation, the most
, gratify ing results may be anticipated, ooue tbe
: less valuable, because we shall havo to wait
some years for the harvest. The choicest
produots of nature are slow io maturing.
In all the harvests gathered at this ss..aon,
we see tho wisdom aud beDevolence of the
. Creator, providing for man and beast. "These
j wait all upon Thee, that Thou taayest give
them their meat in due season." In the fruits
and grains gathered iu Summer, we have juice
i and starch preponderating to meet the wants
of tbe animal nature, amid beat and drought,
j la the nuts and corn we find oil largely coa
: eentrated, preserving them from decay, and
j furnishing the most desirable food for the cold
and dreary winter. Instinct teaches the equir
; rel, aud r nuiy oto-r uvUes ef *+> Ito- luj
up these oily stores, etih-r in holes in the
earth, or in tbe hollows of decaying trees, and
rocks. They have a full supply of the richest
food ail through the Autumn months, and their
bodies are lined with a thick coat of fat, to
, protect them against the cold. Thus they go
I into Winter quarters, fully provided for all
I emergencies.
The same provisions meet the higher wants
;of the human family. Reason takes the place
of instinct, builds granaries aud storehouses,
secure from frost aud rain, wherein we hoard
our Winter stores. Many of the vegetable
oils puss through a refining process, and be
come animal products, before they are deemed
fit for use. Thus butter is concentrated oil
derived from many grasses and herbs ; and
mutton, beef, and pork are only different forms
of supplying the same aliment for Winter use.
In the great grain of our country, Indian corn,
it is a noteworthy fact, that the proportion of
its oil is measured by tho latitude in which it
grows, showiog, by analysis, the most oil in
Canada, where the cold is aoat intense, and
the least in FloriJa, where tho reign of Summer
is hardly broken. The wants of our physical
natures demand a larger supply of oleaginous
food in cold climates, and the necessity is met.
Thus there is in Nature a fulfillment of the
promise of "slreßgth according to our day."
Beautiful Allegory.
Mr. Crittenden of Kentucky, w.t9 at one lime
engaged in defending a rnau who had been in
dicted fur some capital offence. After an elab
orate aud powerful defence, he closed bis effort
by the following striking and beautiful aliego
ry .*
"When God in his eternal counsel conceived
the thought of man's creation, he called three
ministers who wait constantly upon the throne
—Justice, Truth ami Mercy, uud thus address
ed them: 'Shall we make iu in?' Theu said Jus
tice, *O, God make him uot, for he will trample
upon thy law.' Truth made answer also, O,
God, make biui not, for he will pollute thy sanc
! tuaries. Rut mercy, dropping upon her kuee9,
| olid looking up through her tears, exclaimed,
i 'O, God, make him—l will watch over him with
I uiy care through all the dark paths which he
may have to tread. Then God made man, and
j said to him, 'Ob, man thou art the child of
Mercy; go and deal with thy brother.'
The jury, when he finished, wore drownod iu
I tears, uud against evidence, aud what must have
been their own convioticns, brou-ht in a-verdict
of not guilty.
AN INDISPUTABLE WILL.—A farmer made
his last will and testament in words few but
' significant: "I have nothing, I owe nothing,
• and I give the rest to tbe poor."
If dull weather effcct3 you, marry a warm
hearted girl, and make sun shine for yourself.
Bachelors will find this superior to either bil
liards or burgundy.
03*- I hold it true, what'er befall
1 lee) it when 1 sorrow most—
'Tis better to tave loved aud lost,
Than never to have loved at all.
From the Somerset Whig.
BEDFOUO COUNTY*
A or two on this county, might be
interesting to some of the readers of the Her
ald, eance it differs in nlm-'st every respect
Trow our own county. When wo cross Laurel
Hit! o 2nd a country very much like our owe,
but wlien we cross Allegheny we get altogeth
er ou| t>f our elefuent, and into a country al
together diSeient from our own. The ascent
and dpoeut ef Laurel Hill are almost equal;
but tlje Allegheny is quite different, whou we
reachfthe summit of the mountaiu from the
west,jre look down on a country which may
j very properly be called "down below." Aud
j this country down below has in say very in
| teresMog features. Here is almost every vari
i ety "f soil; hero are very steep mountains al
| most without end ; here aro springs, such as
' astuuish any oue who has never seen
i 'bernf here there is no coal (except Broad
Top,j|btn plenty of limestone. Here OQ the
! best of land, grows a scrubby dwarfish kind of
j timber, such as is fouud ou the very poorest
laud in our county. Here the rains and !
! fiostaiare very sectional, while in our county
1 they arc more general, here aro eels in the
streams, and a variety of other things, very
different from our county, just over the Atle
-1 gbeuy aud why are these things so.
There are no doubt, reasons, but I din't
know whether 1 will be able to give them, but
1 think the reason why the Allegheny is so
much fctecper en the east than on the west, is
I because the water bis much wore descent, and
consequently Hows more rapidly anl has tuore
; so that it carries away the suffice
material so much more rapidly than on the
! west. | Ou the east side the waters reach the
, oceaa iu a distance of three c'r four hundred
I milefj/while on the west it does not reach it in
| less than three or four thousand miles. O.i
i the east of the Allegheny, tba hills look bare,
| and it seems as if the Soil iu many places is
carried tff faster than the elements can form
it, by decomposing the rocks of wbicb it is
formed, while on the west we have our glade
bottoms and thick sod and, more than that,
our coal basins which ace regularly stratified
and well calculated to hold water and wih
stand its operations, and at the same time, the
heads of our streams generally glide along
smoo'bly, so, that any matter which may mis
witt "fia-.-o ti.u., to i
is carried far. But here are the rapid s'reams i
all tue time busy, which have worked their i
way down to the lower and more easily denude! |
formations, far below the coal measure, suii '
busy by rain aud sbiuc, carrying off suiail
particles all the tioio to the ocean, forming its
deltas there, and this I consider the reason why
this county is so much lower than ours.
In our county, being altogether in the coal
formation, our soil bas generally the same ap
pearance, but here it is very differcn'. it has
almost every variety of color and quality, it is
read, ycilow. black, sandy, slayty, clayey and
loamy ; some very loose aud some v ry iight,
and in consequence of this the productions are
also very irregular. The rod soil is generally
a decomposition of limestone, and red shale,
and tha yellow soil is almost a pure clay, while j
tho tlaek is generally an alluvial soil—a mix- I
turo of all other varieties where for ages no j
doubt vegetable untter grew trod decayed.— ]
Tbo sandy soil is generally found along the j
edges of mountains formed of samlstooe where
fcr ages tha sand from the rocks above, bas
been carried down.
Tbo slato soils are of diff.rent kinds, some
being well drained and ethers not. On chest
nut ridge there is a soil of sand slate which is
well drained and very productive, while on dry
ridge it is composed of clay slate, not well
drained, and rather unproductive, arouud
chestnut ridge are a number of interesting
springs, several of which drive grist-mills ail
the year. Where the water comes from is a j
mystery to so some, but to are it is plain. — ;
Some here advocate the opinion that it comes ;
from some distant lake, but that idea is cer- ;
Uioly absurd and ridiculous, ihe water ail •
comes out of chesnut ridge. The surface is j
very loose and porous, and at a small distance j
from it, is a largo strata of limestone, probably .
a hundred feet thick. This lime-tone is broken
and in many places decomposed, which is j
evident from the numerous holes which are
sunk in the surface, caused by tbe limestone
below decomposing, and beiug carried off by
ih stream of water which flows through the
ridge, and ruus out at Trout's Mill, on the :
north, and at Hull's Mill ou the south.— j
Springs are scarce in this coun'y compared
with ours, but some of tbem are very large and j
tbe reason why they are so, is ou account of
tbo many underground passsges of the water.
Bedford County is the best naturally draiued
couuty I ever suw, which no doubt aseounts for
the good crops of wheat, which ate raised in
these sections.
The reason why the mountains here are so
steep, is no doubt because hero the strat fixation
of the rocks geucrally, is almost perpendicular,
while in our county it is more horizontal. 1 hero
is every reason to that at the time of
the formatiou ot these rocks they were horizon
tal too, but how they came into this upright
position, is more than I would undertake to ac
count for DOW.
As for the coal, this countiy is certainly too
low <0 contain it. 1 contend that the top of
Alleghany mountain was once farther east than
it is now, this is evident frotn the fact that the
stratas still continue to rise, till almost up to
the Cove mountain. As for Broad lop, it ts a
curtons relic of the con! measures, which has
puzzled almost all geologists, and I Will not ut
tempt to say aoythiug about it.
The reason why wo buve no eels in cur wa
ters is 1 believe beoause salt-water is uecessary
for their reproduction and thty would have to
go too far on our side, to get to it.
THE OVURFLOnifG CUP.
A company of Southern ladies were one day
assembled in a friend's parlor, when the con
vention chanced to turn upon earthly sfflio
tion. E joh had her story of peculiar trial
and bereavement to relate, except ODe pale,
sad looking woman, whose lustreless eye, au 1
dejected uir showed that she was a prey to tbe
deepest melancholy. Suddenly arousiDg her
; self, she said, 'ID a hollow voice, ".Not cue of
you know what trouble is."
"Will you [lease, Mrs. Gray," said the kind
voice of a lady who weli knew her story, "tell
( the ladies what you call trouble!"
"I will, if you desire," she replied, "for I
i have seen it. My parents possessed a compe
tence, and my girlhood was surrounded with
all the comforts of life. L seldom knew an
ungratified wish, uud was always gay and light
hearted. I married at nineteen one I loved
more than all ihe world besides. Our home
was retired, but ihe sunlight never fell on a
lovelier one. nor a happier household. Years
rolled on peacefully. Five children sat arouud
our table, and a little curly head still nestled
iu my bosom. One evening, about sundown,
one of those fierce black storms came on, which
are so common iu our Southern climate. For
many hours the rain poured dowu iucessantly.
Morning dawued, but still the elements raved.
The little stream Dear our dweiliug became a
raging torrcn'. Before we were aware of it,
our house was surrounded by water. I man
aged with my babe, to reach a liitle elevated
spot, on wiii.h a few wide spreading trees
were standing, whose dense foliage afforded
some protection, while my husband anJ sons
strove to save what they could of our property.
At last a fearful iuige swept away my huband,
aui he never rose again. Ladies, no one ever
loved a husband more —but that was not trou
ble !
"Presently my sons saw their danger, aud
the struggle for life became the only consider
ation. They were brave, loving boys as ever
blessed a mother's heart, aud I watched their
efforts to escape with such agony as only moth
ers eau feel. They were so far off that I
Could uot speak to them, but I could tee iheui
closing nearer to each other as their li* tie is
lau 1 grew inil!er and smaller.
"l'ue sullen river raged around the Lugo
trees, dead branches, upturned truu'is, wrecks |
at'' itiourawjt *!*, ooaesea of rulibiu,j
a!I weut {Fating past us. My boys waved!
their bands to me, theu pointed upwards. I i
knew it ws a farewell signal, aud you, mothers,!
canuot imagine my anguish. 1 saw them ull •
perish, and yet that was not trouble !
"1 hugged my babe close to my heart, and
when tbe waUr rose to my feet 1 climbed into
the low branches of the tree, aud so kept re
tiring from ir. until an All Powerful Hand
siaycd the waves, tbut they should come no I
furtner. 1 was saved. All my worldly pos
sessions were swept dway; all my earthly hopes j
blighted—yet that wis not trouble !
"My baby was all that I had left on earth, i
1 labored d:y and night to support htm aod
myself, and sought to train him in the right
way; lut as he grew older, evil companions
won him away from me. lie ceased to care for
his mother's counsel; he would sueer her en
treaties and agonizing prayers. 11a left my
humble roof that he might be unrestrained in
tbe pursuit of evil, and at last, whea heated
by wine one tight, he took the life of a fellow
being, and ended his own upou the scaffold.—
My heavenly father had filled my cup of sor
row before, but uov it ran over. THAT was
TROUBLE, ladies, such as J hope His mercy will
spare you frotu ever experiencing."
There wa not a dry eye among her listen
ers, ani the warmest sympathy was expressed
for the bereaved mother, whose sad history has
taught them a useful lesson.
Beautiful Extract.
Souie fifteen years ago, liev. Jobu N. Maffit,
then in his prim'', delivered a lecture which
closed with the following hue pages:
"The Phoenix, fabled bird of autiquity, when
it felt the advancing chill of age, built its own
fuocrai urn, and fired its pyre by means which
nature's instinct taught.
All its plumage and its form of beauty be
came ashes; but ever would rise tho young—
beautiful from the urn of death, and chambers
of decay, would the fledgliug corns with its eyes
turned towarJs the sun, and assaying its dark
velvet wings, sprinkled with gold and friuged
with silver, uu the balmy air, rising a little high
er until at length, in the full coufiJenoe of flight
it gives the cry of joy, an i soon becomes a glit
tering speck on the bosoui of the se.ial ocean.
Lively voyager of earth, bound ou its heaven
ward journey to the sun!
So rises the spirit bird from the ruius of tho
body, the funeral urn, which its Maker built;
and death fires. So towers away to its home
on the puro elemeuts of spirituality, intellect
Phoenix, to dip its proud wings in the fountain
of eternal bliss.
So shall dear precious humauity survive from
tho ashes of a burning world. % So beautifully
shad the unchanged soul soar within the disc of
Ktcrnity's great luminary, with undatzled eye
aud unscorched wings—the Phoenix of immor
tality taken to its rainbow home, and oradled
on tho beating bosom of eternal love.
We heard a good Methodist preacher t>nce
♦go on' in this way. 4 As I was riding alone
ouce on one of those beautiful Western prair
ies, with my dear oid wife, who has sinoe gone
to heaven iu a buggy.'
♦Come here, my dear, I want to ask you ail
about your sister. Now, tell me, truly, has
she got a beau'' 'No, it's the jauodere; the
doctor says so.'
VOL. 32, NO. 42.
Counsel to (he Touog.
Never be cast down ty tribes. If a spider
breaks his web twenty'times, twenty times, will
he mend it. Make np your minds to do a thing,
and you will do it. Fear not if trouble comes
k upon you; keep up your spirits, tbeSgh the day
may be a dark one—
Troubles never last forever,
The darkest day will pass away.
If t!sp sun is going down, look up to the stars;
if the earlb is dark, keep your eyes on heaven.
With God's presence aDd God's promise, a man
or oLild may he cheerfai.
Never despair when fog's in the air,
A sunshiny morning will come without warningj
Mind what you tun after! Never be oontent
with a bubble that will burst; or a firewood
that wi 1 end in smoke and darkness; bnt that
which you can keep, and which is worth keep
ing.
Something startling that will stay
When gold and silver fly away.
Fight hard against a hasty temper. Anger
will come, but resist it strongly. A spark may
set a bouse on fire. A fit of passion rosy give
you cause to mourn all the days of your life.—
Never reveoge an injury.
lie that rerengeth knows no rest;
The meek possess a peaceful breast.
If you have an enemy, act kindly to film, artd
make hiut your friend, foe may not win hiu)
over at once, but try agaiß. Let one kindness
be fallowed by another till you have compased
yout end. Jiy little and by little great things
are completed.
Water failing day by day,
Wears the hardest rock away.
Aud eo repeated kiudcess will toftec a heart
of stone.
Whatever you do, do it willingly. A iMy
that is whipped at school never learns his les
son well. A man (bat is compelled to work
cares not how badly it is performed. He wbo
pulls off his coat cheerfully, strips up his clothes
in earnest, and sings while he works, is the man
for me—
A'cheerful spirit gets on qnick;
A grumbler In the mud II stick.
Evil thoughts are worse enemies than lions
and tigers, for we can get out of the wsy of
wild beasts, but bad thoughts win their way
gftpfcV wher*. Keep, jour heads and hearts full
"oT good thoughts, that bad thoughts may not
find room
Be on your guard, ani strive and pray,
To drive all evil thoughts away.
A Pointed Sermon.
Many & discourse of tn hour's length is not
half as good as the following from an eccentric
English divine :
'•Be sober, grave, temperate."—Titus ii, V.
1. There are three companions with whom
you should always keep on good terms
2. Your wife.
3. I'our stomach.
4. Your conscience
-5 If \ou wish to cujoy peace, long life, and
happiness, preserve them by temperance. In
temperance produces:
6. Domestic misery.
7. Premature death.
8. lufidelity.
To make th< se points clear. I refer you
9. To the .Newgate Calender.
10. To the hospitals, lunatic asylums, and
work houses.
11. To tbe past ezperitnce of what you have
seen, read, aud suffered, iu mind, body, and es
tate.
Header, decide! which will you choose?"—
Temperance, with happiness and long life; or
intemperance with misery and premature death?
The President in 1. D* 1900.
The boy is now living who will be President
of the Ucited States in 1900. 110 is about ten
or twelve years of age. His parents are in
bumble circumstances, but of sterling traits of
character, and their sou, is not one of those
oirty, noisy, boys that spend their days, even
ings and Sabbaths in idleness and rowdyism—
On tue coorrary he is of a serious cast, is very
studious; and withal is well behaved.
Teacher, weigh well your responsibility! The
future President may be in that grammar class
that you think scaroely worthy of a respectful
attention. What boy of all our readers will
lay claim to this di-tinction? Recollect, the
future President is not found amongst the Sab
bath breakers, the everyday idlers, the evening
row-lie-, the blasphemous the vulgar, or among
those tbat love aud make a lio. He is not one
of those who pride themselves as being Young
America, aud despise the authority of u father
or break away from the gentle restraints of a
good mother.
A Locofooo ootemporary says that Democ
racy is founded upou a rock. Thß prophi oy of
the Psalmist alludes doubtless to these same
Locofooo J. Paraphrased:
Sl on slippery rocks I see them stand,
While fiery billows roll below !*'
A poet, after Longfellow, gets off a poem,
of which the following stanza is a true speci
men-:
In the world's Lroad field of battle,
In the great barn-yard of life,
Be not like the lazy cattle—
Be a rooster in tbe strife 1
A young lady whose name was Patty, being
addressed by a Mr. Cake, accepted him on the
condition tbat he would change bis name, de
claring that she would Dever consent to be call,
ed a " patty cake."