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O_Nigin3ll. Vtitttp:.
'Written for The Globe
TILE BLIND GIRL.
331 B*l"ti
The wide, Wide world is dark to me,
The cheering sun is gone; •
The moon that once shone pleasantly,
And through the clouds ran on,
No longer cheers my gloomy path,
Nor beams of pity sends.
The twinkling stars—a mighty train,
That crown the azure vault,
From Vesper comes, till Venus wanes,
Have left me in this world of night;
No more, to me, they'll e'er be bright,
For I, alasl am blind.
The rainbow on the purple clouds,
Penciled by more than mortal skill,
Her glowing hues, a mist enshrouds;
The mowing brooks, the laughing rill,
The playful lambkins on the hill
Have channs for me no longer now,
For I, alas, ant blind.
They say the flowers are blooming now.
The flowers I loved so well;
They say the Moss and Lily grow,
In the wild wood, and the dell.
I love those flowers, for oh I they tell,
Of loved ones now no more.
0! lead nu) to my mother's grave,
That mother once so dear,
Thi God hat!' taken, God who gave
So, though this world be dark and drear,
My eyes be sealed for ever here,
They'll open soon in Heaven.
Sad amtilejected, here 'I
roam,
I have no friendg, I have no home,
My noble sire in battle died;
And Willie, once our dither's pride,
They buried in the deep, blue sea,
And left me here to mourn.
Oh! brother, father, mother dear.
Look on me in my WOO;
_From yon bright world, so fair and clear,
And tell me now, before 5 go,
That which I long so much to know,
Are any blind in ILearen ?
An angel Nvhispered, as she slept,
Coate, sister, come, thy toil is o'er,
Thy prayer.; arc heard, thou oft Last wept
Now xvelrome to the sacred shore.
Where friends are waiting safely o'er
The cold and stormy sea.
Beneath a willow's spreading bows
They laid the gentle dead:
And o'er the tomb, the frag'lt'ilt rose.
131001115 Iwnaing, o'er her limiii is head,
And whilst the sacred earth we tread,
The blind girl sees, in Heaven
Written fir IThe Globe
'rum JUVENILE PIC N/C.
MIME
See the beaming - , smiling faces,
As they gaily march along,—
ec their arttes-, pleasing graces,
Hear the music of their song.
Little prattlers, tiny elve , ;--
Sparkling eyes, merry fAVeS,
nappy,,happy, in theniselves.
Move along With sprightly paces
Buoyant steps, lovely ginner's,
Beaming forth from every eye,
Nimble tip-toe, quickened prancts
As the distant grove they spy.
Hark ! what sounds it I*(` these.
Coming from the distant
As earth note, earl' stanza flows,
'Pi the rippling, gliding, rill,
See the flAive-board surrounded,
Hear, the tinkling bell call lbrtia,
tr.,rder, in each note is sounded—
Mark : the beaming, modest worth
Lang-promised, sure reward,
Fur the ntudions days a.). hon.,
They have spent in lessons hard,
Amid the guns of rrasaning power,
litlistrlianeolls ClO PlifiCat.
THE GERMANS OF PENNSYLVA
NIA.
BY THE REV. E. W. 11171" PER
So deeply is the State of Pennsylvania in
debted for her pfosperity to the GERMAN por
tion of her citizens, that we feel that an arti
cle devoted to them will not he out of place
in this meridian, where they comprise so
large a part of the population. The German
character once employed the pen of the learn
ed and enlightened Tacitus, one of the first
historians of antiquity. They evidently in
herit all the virtues ascribed by this author
to their ancestors, with few of their vices,
which Christianity . has in a great measure
banished from among them. These ances
tors migrated chiefly from the Palatinate,
from Alsace, Swabia, Saxony, and Switzer
land, with an admixture of natives of every
principality and dukedom. in. Germany.—
When we reflect, at this day, that the stock
of most of these bold pioneers in the settle
ment of Pennsylvania, consisted only of a
few pieces of gold or silver coin, a chest of
clothing, a Bible, and a Psalter, and that
now their descendants are scattered nearly
over the whole West, and own the most im
mense possessions, we are forcibly struck with
the miraculous changes wrought in the.pro
gress of time by an Overruling and Divine
liand. Hit were possible to. determine the
• relative proportions of these sums, the con
trast would form such a monument of hu
man INDUSTRY and ECONOMY as has seldom
been witnessed in any age or country on the
face of the earth.
The principal • part of the Germans of
Pennsylvania are Farmers—hardy and in
dustrious tillers of the soil—the most noble of
all the secular occupations whichcan engage
the attention of man. More skitrul cultiva
tors of the earth, too, we hazard nothingin
saying, can be found nowhere in this 'coun
try, or any other, between the rising and the
petting of the sun.
The Germans set a great value upon patri
monial property, This useful principle in
human nature prevents much .folly and vice
in young people. It moreover lends to last
jug and extensive advantages in the improve
ment of a farm ; for • what , inducement can
.be stronger in a parent to plant an orchard,
-to preserve forest trees, or to build a commo
dious and durable house, than the idea, that
- they will be possessed by a succession of gen
erations, who shall inherit his blood and
name?
What strikes a traveller through our Ger
man counties most forcibly, is their mam
moth barns, called in their own language
,Schweitzer Sauter. Indeed, it is their invari
able custom, in settling a new tract of land,
EMI
WILLIAM LEWIS,
VOL. XII,
OE
first to provide large and suitable accommo
dations for their horses and cattle, before
they expend much money in building a house
for themselves. No feature in their charact
er speaks so loudly in behalf of their human
ity, as this willingness to suffer discomfort
themselves, rather than impose it on the
dumb and uncomplaining beasts. They be
lieve with king Solomon, that "a righteous
man regardeth the life of his beast." But
from - this let it not be inferred, that their
dwellings are deficient in the comforts of life.
The reverse is true. No class, so emphatical
ly as they, live '"on the fat of the land,"—and
nome boasts of so many and such substantial
domestic enjoyments.
Another fact, which never fails to rivet the
attention of a stranger, is the extraordinary
size and strength of their horses. A German
horse is known in every part of the State.—
Ile seems to "feel with las lord" the pleasure
and pride of good and bountiful living. It is
a well-established fact, that the German .hor
ses of Pennsylvania perform double the
amount of labor of the New England or
Southern breed, from the fact that they are
more plentifully fed. For the same reason,
their cows yield double the quantity of milk,
and of a quality vastly superior.
In a word a German farm can be distin
guished from the f:rins of the other citizens,
by the superior size of their barns—the plain
but compact construction of their dwellings
—the height of their enclosures—the extent
of their orchards—the fertility of their fields
—the luxuriance of their meadows—the gi
ant strength of their cattle—and by a gener
al appearance of plenty and prosperity in
all that belongs to them.
The favorable influence of Agriculture, as
conducted by the Germans, in extending hu
man happiness, is manifested by the joy they
express upon the birth of a child. No dread
of poverty, nor distrust of Providence from
an increasing family, depress the spirits
. 9S
these industrious and frugal people. Upon
the birth of a son, they exult in the gift of a
ploughman or a wagoner; and upon the birth
-of a daughter, they rejoice in the addition of
a spinster or milk-maid, to their family.—
happy state of human society ! What
blessing can Civilization confer; that can
.atone fur the, ancient and patriarchal pleas
ure of raising up a numerous and healthy
family of children to labor for their parents,
fOr themselves, and - fur their country ;
and finally to partake of, the knowledge and
happiness which are annexed to existence,
both inthe life that now is, and in that which
is to come. The joy of parei&; upon the
birth of a child, is the grateful echo of
creating goodness. May the hills and val
leys of Pennsylvania be forever vocal with
songs of joy upon these occasions ! They
are the infallible signs of comparative inno
cence, absolute industry, wealth, and happi
ness in the State.
AC.lbr.3ll \,
The German Mechanic, too, is a most use
ful and enterprising citizen, possessing all
the traits of character in common with the
Farmer. His first ambition, on starting into
life is to become a Freeholder, so as not to
in a rented house—and the highest tem
poral delight he can enjoy springs from his
ability to declare : "This house is vell own."
Admirable equality that, which renders him
afraid of Debt, that prolific source of Misery,
and Want, and Crime ! "The borrower is
servent to the lender." "Owe no man any
thing, except to love him."
But the genius of the Germans of Penn
sylvania is not confined to Agriculture and
the Mechanic Arts. Many of them have ac
quired great wealth, too, by foreign and do
mestic commerce.
But another fact which speaks louder in
their praise, than any other, is this, that they
are particularly attentive to the religious ed
ucation of their children, and to the estab
lishment and support of the Christian Reli
gion. For this purpose they make the exec-
tion of a School House and a Place of Wor
ship thefirst objects of their care. But they
do not stop here. They take great pains to
introduce in their offspring, not only habits of
labor, but a lore of. it.
In this they submit to the irreversible sen
tence pronounced upon man, in such a man
ner as to convert, the wrath of Heaven into
private and public happiness. "To FEAR
GOD AND TO LOVE WORK" are thefirst lessons
they teach to their children.
• As members of Civil Government, too, the
Germans are, in the mose exalted sense, pa
triotic and useful. Strongly attached to the
principles of our free institutions, and con
tributing largely to the public revenue, they
constitute the "bone and sinew" of the State.
Many of them have become ethinent in the
Science of Government, and they have fur
nished some of our most distinguished States
men, who have served in the highest Execu
tory and Legislative offices. We will be con
tent with reference, to a single illustrious ex
ample, the revered Simom. SNYDER, whose
name has become the very synonyme of ster
ling sense, unflinching honesty, and far see
ing sagacity—and whose administration of
the Chief Magistracy of Pennsylvania, for a
period of nine years, is referred to, at the
present day, by men of all parties, as a very
model of good government.
The Germans of Pennsylvania, to their
credit be it spoken, never besiege the Gov
ernment for favors in their domestic pursuits.
They are never known to crowd the ligisla
tire halls clamorous for special
. privileges,
and rely for wealth and prosperity, not on
Acts of Assembly, but on their own daily
toil , and industry. They are,
.perhaps, the
only class of people who practically regard
government, its objects and its functions, in
their true light. All that they desire. from
Government is to be let alone.
As neighbors, they arc extremely kind,
and friendly. They frequently.. assist each
other by loans of money for a short time,
without interest. But, to secure their confi
dence, it is necessary to be punctual, as they
never lend money a second time to one who
has once violated his obligation. We have
heard it remarked, that during the War of In
dependence there were very few instances of
any of them discharging a bond or a debt, in
depreciated paper money
These are some of the traits of character
n ,,... : 7.,;:::::. .,...
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'..,..i'', 't,: : .. r...,
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which have raised the Germans of Pennsyl
vania to a degree of moral and political ele
vation surpassed by no other race of men in
the world. From this proud spectacle we
may learn to prize knowledge and industry
in Agriculture, coupled with a due obser
vance of Christian duty, as the basis both of
domestic happiness and national prosperity.
A young phisician, who, after having -re
ceived his diploma from one of our Medical
Colleges, finding that there was no chance of
gaining a livelihood by the practice of his
profession in the place of his nativity, conclu
ded to pack up his tools and emigrate to the
Land of Gold on the Pacific. Herehe found
no better encouragement in the practice of
medicine, for which he had been duly pre
pared, and licensed. As a last resort, lie
turned miner, and exchanged the scalpel for
the pick-axe. In a recent letter to a friend
at home, he embodies a sort of valedictory
sermon to his last pursuit, which is well
worth perusal. We copy it for the edifica
tion of our readers : '
"Why will ye dig ?" Sons of man for the
I light of whose presence my spirit yearneth
and my bowels grumbleth, dost thou ask me
why? Is it not written that fortune smiles
upon fools ? And for the sake of these
smiles, hath not thy servant been making
a fool, yea, an ass of himself, in vain? For
five years and ten days he has sojourned in
this place—he has dived into the water—he
has torn ancient rocks from their resting
place, and removed them afar off—he has
likewise torn his breeches in parts not to be
spoken of!—he has rooted into the mud like
unto a swine. Ills beard hath grown long
—the skin upon his hands and face hath
changed its color until he is now likened un
to a wild beast, and his garments arc rent
and soiled, so that "sackcloth and ashes"
would be as line as linen and purple to him.
He would fain feed on husks, but there are
none. Yes, he who in times past was wont to
fare sumptuously, and to grumble over great
er delicacies than were piled upon the table
of Dives, now snuffs with gladness, the fra
grance of pork and beans, and gnashes his
teeth impatiently over a frying slapj ack. lle
bolted a raw onion with unspeakable avidity.
Potato skins fear his presence, beef vanish
es from before him, and dogs look in vain
for the bones., Me sighs for the flesh pots of
ill Egypt, and mourns over the barrenness of
the land. In his sleep, nevertheleSs, the
good angel of the past deigns to visit him,
and delightful visions are opened to his recol
lection, for a delicious - "bill of fare" floats
before the mind of the dreamer, and he or
ders "oysters and terrapins for six," only to
awaken to his infernal slapjacks and molas
ses.'
All this bath thy servant endured. Is he
not then a fool, an abomination in the sight
of wisdom ? And is it not unto such only,
that fortune dispenses her favors ? Yet she
bath deserted me. I approach her and she
fieeth ! I "double on her trail," and she tur
neth away ! I await her coming and she
stands still ! I secrete myself in her path,
and seize her unawares! But she ghdetli
off, as though I had' caught a hog by his
greased tail! Sic transit, I exclaim, and
with a sick heart I revile poverty and curse
fortune.'
Lo! are not these evils? And wherefore
should they be visited upon thy servant?—
Surely he bath not sinned as other men sin
neth. He bath not coveted his neighbor's ox,
nor his ass, nor his man-servant nor his
maid-servant—for be it known unto thee,
that there are no maid-servants here. lle
has abided by the "Law and the Prophets,"
but the profits have not abided by him!
Nov, therefore, I renounce these diggings
—I absquatulate the premises—"l vamose
the ranch"—l take off—l put out—l go 7-1
slope = l depart without scrip or provender,
taking no heed for the morrow, for the mor
row takes no care of me. Ere five days shall
have passed, the shirt-tail of thy servant will
be waving in the breeze of the Nevada. A
remnant of it will be nailed upon the high
est mountain that he crosses, an emblem of
the extremity to which a man may be redu
ced in the land of Ophir. Yet think not, oh!
Elisha, that I would rend my garment for
this alone. Verily, I say unto thee, an evil
genius bath long pursued me. She hath
fol
lowed so close upon my footsteps that every
thread and fibre of my shirt-tail are familiar
to her eye. And if, in her pursuit of me, she
should gaze upon this relic in the solitary
fastness of the mountain she will at once re
cognize it, and believe Inc to have been torn
and destroyed by a wild beast, she will re
trace her steps, and thus I will escape her.
I go hence, Elisha, unto the town of Sono
ra., where it has been prophesied that thy
servant will heal the sick, and prosper with
amazing prosperity. As Moses reared the
serpent in the• wilderness, for the children of
Israel to look upon and lie cured of their in
firmities, so will I elevate my tin among the
Gentiles, that they may gaze upon it and be
made whole. Their offerings of gold and sil
ver will be acceptable unto me ; and if they
live not afterwards, peradventure they may
find treasures in Heaven.
THIS 1VI),I. DO.—Marshal, spare that dog,
touch not a single hair; he worries many a
hog front out his muddy lair. Oh ! when he
was•a pup, so frisky and so plump, he lap
ped his milk from a cup, when hungry—at a
jump,* •,And then his funny tricks, so funny
in their place, so full of canine licks, upon
your hands and face. You will surely let
him live ! 0 ! do not kill him—dead ; he
wags his narrative and prays for life—not
lead. , Go get the muzzle now, and put upon
his mouth and stop that bow-bow-bow! and
tendency to drought. lie is our children's
pet, companion of their joy ; you will not kill
him yet, and thus their hopes destroy. No,
Marshall, spare that pup, touch not *a single
hair '• 0 ! put your pistol up and go away
from there.—Bqralo llepbliucan„
XIS-, l —lt is stated that coffee can be success
fully cultivated in the south part of Califor
nia, and that it will eventually become au
article of export from. that State.
HUNTINGDON, PAR, JULY 9, 1856.
•A Miner's Sermon
-PERSEVERE.-
"Americans Must Rule America."
In a former article, under the above cap
tion, we endeavored to show how the Know-
Nothing faction had misled and stultified the
public mind, by the adoption of the specious
motto, as their line of action, that "Ameri
cans must rule America ;" and, per con
sequence, that none but native born citizens
should hold office. We now propose a few
reflections upon the manner in which their
doctrines were - carried out—the outrages
that were perpetrated under the mask of an
affected and intense Americanism—and the
infamies that finally brought down upon the
whole vile concern the indignant scorn and
reprobation of every right-minded man in
the country.
We believe that Know-Nothing-ism, with
all its various adjuncts and instincts, had its
origin in a deadly and malignant hatred of
the Democratic party. When it first exhibit
ed its hideous crest, the Democracy were in
the ascendant in almost every State of the
Union. It had just before issued from a na
tional contest in which it had achieved a
most signal and overwhelming triumph.
Th.e people, with almost unparalleled una
nimity, had endorsed both the domestic and
foreign policy which it had. inaugurated and
established, and there seemed nowhere a dis
position to disturb, but rather to acquiesce
in the adjustment of the before disputed
questions which had formed the basis of par
tizan antagonism and of strife. The Whig
party, even by its most renowned advocates
and champions, was admitted to be dead and
buried, and the policy which it had for
years persistently strove to fasten upon the
government, was regarded as an obsolete
idea—a thinc , of the past, beyond all hope of
resurrection.
The victorious Democracy had possession of
the whole peliticalfield—itsstar was in the as
cendant everywhere and it promised to have un
disputed sway, and to ensure the traminility of
the country, for long years to come. But an
Unseen enemy was on its track, plotting and
scheming, and devising means for its over
throw. How was this herculean Lask to be ac
complished.? Where was the brain, fertile
enough in expedients,
.or the heart black
enough in malignity, to attempt its execu
tion? But in some depraved mind it was
concocted. Native Americanism was signifi
cant and suggestive. It was seen that this
organization, built upon proscription of for
eign-born citizens and hostility to the Cath
olic religion, had been successful in certain
localities—had triumphed over a Democracy
that resisted and repelled its narrow and
selfish creed—and, in a moment, the worst
of the opposition leaders, sought to widen its
influence, to try its strength upon a broader
field, and to array the Protestant mind of
the country against the Democratic party—
to arouse the most dangerous projudices that
could afflict the land—to set class against
class, and religion against religion, even at
the risk of a bloody internecine war. When
this monster had taken shape and form, un
der the auspices of that seeresy, and of those
oaths and obligations that made it so formid
able, and banded its confederates to: , ' et I
w-N
it was christened Knoothingism. When
-we look back and contemplate the atrocities
that stained its career, and the mischief it
wrought, we involuntarily exclaim:
-"Can such things be,
And overcome us like a summer cloud,
Without our special wonder?"
When it arose, it seemed as though anoth
er Pandora's box had been opened. to scatter
its evils and to shower its plagues upon a
doomed community. In the name of patriot
ism, it dealt the most deadly blows against
personal and political liberty. In the name
of Religion, and under the pretence of doing
God service, it roasted men and women in
the flames of their own dwellings, and
laughed and shouted amid the dreadful sat
urnalia of blood and carnage. It invoked
the ruffian hand to shed innocent blood, and
applauded and commemorated the deed.
It' apotheosized professional bullies, and
wrapped the sacred folds of the American
flag around the bodies of those who had met
a violent death in violating the laws, and
whose lives, like that of the Ishmaelite, had
been a constant warfare against society.
Had the Democratic party not met and
overthrown this monster, what now untold
and unknown evils might have been in store
for the country! It is true that honorable,
patriotic and law-abiding men of all parties,.
turned away from it with loathing and con
tempt; but it was left to the Democratic par
ty to grapple with it single-handed, and
strangle it to death. It is gradually disap
pearing from the'face of the land ;-its death
moans are growing 'hinter and fainter, and
when we know that not a vestige of it is left,
we shall feel as though sonic fearful and
overshadowing nightmare had been dispelled
from the broad breast of the country.—Run
sylvanian.
rta., The American. Register, the Know-
Nothing organ of Lancaster, is down like a
"thousand of brick" on the nomination .of
Fremont. It calls him "a, certain John C.
Fremont, .of Rocky mountain grass-hopper
celebrity"—and says; " he has been hereto
fore a perfect political blank"—" a young
man thrust upon the people of the United
States for the highest office in the gift ,of a
free people, without experience or any par
ticular qualification to recommend hini.
Again--" Every true patriot will regret that
both the New York and. Philadelphia Con
ventions did not nominate Millard Fillmore,
the only man who stands a particle of chance
Of defeating Buchanan.
Inr,.Hugh Smith, a laborer, of Hollidays
burg, attempted to commit suicide by drown
ing, a few days ago. He was rescued a few
minutes after lie made the plunge. Life vas
nearly extinct, but through the skilful exer
tions of Dr. Conrad he was resuscitated. 11;
was laboring under mental aberration.
Corn intended for seed ought to be
preserved on the cob, and not kept in bulk.
This is especially true of the white flint vari
ety, the cob of which-is very succulent.
Germany is rich in the fune of its gifted
children, especially in those. who possessed
great musical genius. What other countries
can boast of such names as Beethoven, Han
del, Mozart ? Beethoven, the sublime mas
ter stands a king among artists of every land;
Handel has made his name sacred through
the beauty and grandeur of his oratorios ;
and Mozart, the wonderful child and no less
wonderful man, whose chief characteristic
was the universality of his musical power,
may well stand in the ranks of those whom
all ages honor.
The world is better and' happier that such
as these have lived in it and enriched it with
their labors. That which was best and great
est within their own souls, they wrought in
to living melodies, to which the world lis
tens, and while it listens is purified and hal
lowed.
Mozart was born at Salzburg, in 1756.
lie lived but thirty-six yea - is, 3 -et his whole
life was devoted-to his art. At the age of six
years he began to compose music, and from
that time until his death, he went from capi
tol to capitol of Europe, giving to the world
his sublime works, as one by one they were
produced. Ile was every where received with
enthusiasm, though much that he composed
was not fully appreciated until a later period,
when the artificial music which he did not
imitate was becoming obsolete. his style was
peculiarly his oWn. His genius, too rich and
varied to be confined to conventionalities and
customs, broke away from them and' deligh
ted itself with new and splendid creations.—
His talent was notconfined to any one branch
of the art. In the solemn symphony, the
delicate romance, the brilliant- opera, ho was
equally successful, and who ha,s not heard of
his last and greatest work, his Requiem'?
Connected with this is a legend which is
often told, yet always thrtlling to the.lovers
of _the marvelous. It is said that a mysteri
ous stranger visited Mozart a short time be
fore his death, and ordered a requiem to be
composed for some unknown person,. Ile ap
pointed the day on which it should be finish
ed, and then went away, not having revealed
his name. Mozart wrote it as he had prom
ised, pouring into it sonic of his greatest
ideas, and adorning it with the richest
strangerpasSa
n•esbut the never returned, and the
requiem was performed soon after at - the bur
ial of the author.
Mrs. liemans has made this_the theme of
a beautiful poem, in which she attributes to
Mozart the 'conSeiousness that a supernatural
visitor had commissioned him to write his
own requium.
4 'A requiem I and for whom ?
For beamy in its bloom ?
For valor fallen, a broken rose, or sword ?
A dirge till* king, or chief.
With pomp of stately grief,
Banner, and torch, amid Waving plume deplored 2
Not so—lt is not s , )!
That warning voice I know!
From otllCr worlds a strange. nlysteri..us
5010111 flowral air
It called lilt' to prepalc,
And my heart answered Secretly—nly own r
The legend, though prohahly it has little or
no finrodation, is very beautiful, throwing, as
it does, a ludo of mystery over the death of
one whose life was so fruitful in the grandest
works of genius.
In his joy and in his sorrow, man loves to
surround himself with plants ;mil flowers.—
Ile crowns the bride with sweet myrtle or the
pure orange blossoms ; the laurel speaks to
him of glory and renown ; the palm-branch
of glorious hopes fbr the future. And when
the loved one departs, he turns again to the
flowers of the earth mid the trees of the for
est, to srieve with them and to give expres
sion of his sorrow. Prom the South Sea to
the icy North, from East to West, grief finds
the same simple but touching expression.—
The mourning.peasant of Normandy burns
the lowly straw bed on which his friend ex
pired before his hut, and the round black
spot, as it contrasts with the green turf by
its side, remains long aim humble but eloquent
epitaph of him who left no other record be
hind. In peaceful villages we see neithjr
gorgeous monuments, nor lofty trees rising in
honor of the dead—and, we fear as frequent
ly in praise of the living—but, sweeter far,
the graves are covered with green sod or hum
ble flowers. "We adorn graves," says gen
tle Evelyn, "with flowers and redolent plants,
just emblems of the life of those fading beau
ties, whose roots being buried in dishonor,
, rise again in glory."
The Japanese deck with flowers their "eter
nal inhnsion," and the Turks perforate the
mauumental slabs spread on those who shall
be seen no more, in order that a natural
growth of bloom shall spring up through the
-
apertures, and that the bud so nourished by
the grave, and set free to the winds of heav
en, shall shed their fragrance and strew their
petals around the Moslem's "city of silence."
The western traveler gazed with deep sympa
thy upon the grave of the Chinese ; it is a
simple, conical mound of ettrth, but over it
spread and twine wild roses, and cover it
with a mass of pure white blossoms ; or it is
crowned in simple majesty, with a tall plant
of waving grass. Our cities, also, now love
to bury the dead where woods unfold their
massive foliage and breathe an air of heaven
--their better taste has made the green grove
and the velvet lawn sacred to the memory of
'those that are gone to the realms of peace.
Profanity is the least excusable of all
vices because it has not even the poor apology
of self interest to defend it. It gratifies no
appetite and subserves no end, and must,
therefore spring alone from the most crimi
nal thoughtlessness, or from.unmitigated de
pravity. A practice thus characterized by
DO virtue and furnished with no excuse,
springing .from the two worst conditions
of the human heart, absolute vacuity or to
tal repletion with wickedness, is too mon7
strous to be loved and too worthless to be
practiced, and . should be hated by every
good• man, and avoided by all.
Riht and duty arc like two palm trees,
which bear fruit only when growing side by
side:
Editor and Proprietor
NO, 3.
Moi art.
Flowers
poniotic econert
Valuable Receipts
FILLET, OR ROUND OF BEEF—SPICED.-Get
the ribs of beef. Have ready pounded and
sifted some cloves, mace, - alspice, pepper, a
low coriander seeds, a little saltpetre ; and
hay salt ; mix all well together, rub your
beef well, then tie it tightly up into, a good,
round fillet ; let it lie for a day or two, then
put it into the oven to set the meat, after
which place it in a stewpan with a little sec
ond stock.; put fat bacon at the bottom of
the stewpan, and half a pint of - port wine,
stew it about two hours, according to the
size ; make a very good sauce s reduce the
li
quor, and take off all the fat until sufficient
to make the sauce, which you will add to
some good cooley, with chopped dressed
mushrooms ; season with cayenne pepper and
salt; if approved of, add some hot pickles of
different colors, the last thing; in the sauce,
Add a dust of sugar to your sauce,
BRANDY. Pcnotxe.---Take some dried cherzi
ries or jar-raisins, stoned, and line a mould
with them, add some thin slices of French
roll, and a layer of - ratafias or macaroons,
then repeat the layers of fruit; rolls, and
cakes, till the mould, is full, pouring in at
intervals two glasses of brandy. Beat four
eggs, whites and yolks separately, add to
them a pint of milk or cream slightly sweet
ened, half a nutmeg, and the rind, of half a
lemon grated, pour it into the mould, and
when it has penetrated the solid, flotir
cloth, tie it tight over, and boil an hour. Be
careful to keep the Mould the right side up-:
wards.
AN EFFECTUAL METTIOD OF RENQVIk'C TU
TASTE OF GARLIC, OR WILD 0:sZION FROM MILK
—When the milk is new from the cow, pour
one q uart of boiling water into every gallon
of milk; stir it through, and put the whole in=
to broad shallow dishes, so that it will not be
above two inches deep. Let these dishes be
placed on au open shelf, that the vapor may
pass freely and entirely away. When themilk
has stood in this manner twelve hours, it may
be put into a churn altogether, or only the
cream, as may be most agreeable to the taste
or practice of the operator. Milk from cows
that have pastured on garlic, (or wild onion,)
when managed in tins_ way, will be quite
sweet.
HORN-AIL—A REMEM".—Last spring one
of my cows bad the horn-ail or distemper
very bad, and I thought I should lose her in
spite of all I could do. I tried the different
remedies I could hear of, but without effect.
At last I thought 1 would try something new,
and took a small sack, filled it with common
salt, and bound it between her horns, and
then poured on sharp vinegar until it was
perfectly wet. I wet it three or four times a
day until she got well, which was in a very
short L. W., Conquest, IV, Y., in
Rural _,-linerican.
HOW TO eIIOOSE BEEF.—True well-fed beef
may be known by the texture and color ; the
lean will exhibit an open grain of deep coral
red, and. the fat will appear nf a healthy, oily
smoothness, rather inclining to white than
yellow ; the suet firm and white. Yellow fat
is a test of meat of an inferior quality,
Heifer beef is but little inferior to ox - beef,-
the lean is of acloser grain, the red paler, and
the fat -wham Cow beef may be detected
by the same signs, save that the older the
beast the texture of the meat will appear
closer, and the flesh coarser to the sight, as
well as harder to the touch.
Fog- NE 17 RA LC IC TROUBLES.—The applica
tion of towels, wrung out in hot water, to the
IZ)rehead and temples, is represented to be an
efficacious and speedy remedy for headaches
arising from neuralgic--affections.
Fon Cno;vs.—Seth Leo,. of Connecticut,
says IR: gels rid of the crows by the fol Towing
easy method :
"Ile takes a small piece' of fresh meat, or
meat that. has hen fresh recently, foi the'
nearer it is to carrion the better, as crows are
not very nice.in these matters, punches it full
of small holes, into each of which he puts a
small' quantity of strychnine, and hangs tluk
meat in a tree near where the crows are
known to frequent." Eleven died an ignomini
ous death one morning:
hioly TO lioii, POTATOES.—In Ireland pota , :
toes are boiled to perfection ; the humblest
peasant places his potatoes on his table better
cooked than could half the cooks in London,
trying their best. Potatoes should always
be boiled in their "jackets ;" peeling a pota,
to before boiling is offering apremium for wa
ter to run through it, and making themwaxy
and unpalatable ; they should be thoroughly
washed and put into cold water. In Ireland
they always nick a piece of the skin off be- -
fore they place them in the pot ; the water is
heated, but never allowad to boil ;
cold water should be added as soon as the
water commences boiling, and it should thus
be checked until the potatoes are done,. the
skins will not then be broken or cracked un- ;
til the potato is thorou,ghlydon s e; pour the wa
ter off completely, and let the skinE be
thoroughly dry before peeling.
I l Emos Punm.No.--. 7 80il four lemons peeled
thin, till they are soft, rub them through
a hair sieve, and preserve the fine pulp;
pour some boiling milk or cream, in which
a stick of cinnamon has been boiled, over a
pound of Naphs biscuits, two ounces of fresh
butter, and a little nutmeg. When cold, add
to them the pulp of the - lemons, and. eight,
eggs well beaten ; mix all together, and
sweeten, and, if liked, add some brandy. =
Make a good puff paste, edge
. a dish with it,
put in the mixtures, ornament the top with
strings of paste, and bake it in a moderate ;
oven.
POTATO SpUr.—Alruost every farmer's
household is fond of soup for supper. I will
now write a few "home-spun" lines on mal
kin.. a cheap and palatable soup from the
potato.' I take good sound potatoes, peel and
cut them in pieces small enough to be eaten
with a spoon. After haying them well ria l
sed, I boil them .with enough water to leaye
thein in a state of soup; adding salt to my
taste. When they ;Ire cooked,' take about
two tablespoonfuls of flour, with belles much
lard, and•fry it in a pan, stirring it with - a
spoOn until changed to a brown (not black
color) color. I then stir in it with the potatoes t
after which it is ready for the table.--Rtiza :
• -•,
bah,
Cow 11Em,.-- r }Laving cleaned the feet,' bone
them, boil them, and stew them in a rich
brown gravy - ; servo with Indian Or e
if plainly cooked, boil until enough. ; then
serve them on a napkin, with milted butter ?
flavored with a spoonful of vinegar, and one
of mustard. Lemon pickle may be
with them.