The globe. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1856-1877, August 12, 1857, Image 1

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#tlett l:ll Jattrtr.
Stand on a funeral mound,
Far from all that love thee ;
With a barren hearth around,
With a cypress bower above thee,—
And think, while the sad wind frets,
And the night in cold gloom closes,
Of spring, and spring's sweet violets,
Of summer, and summer's roses.
Sleep where the thunders ily,
Across the tossing billow;
Thy canopy the sky,
And the lonely deck thy pillow ;
And dream while the chill sea foam
rn mockery dashes o'er thee,
Of the cheerful hearth, and the quiet home,
And the kiss of her that bore thee.
Watch in the deepest cell
Of the foeman's dungeon tower,
Till hope's most cherished spell
Has lost its cheering power ;
And sing, while the galling chain
On every stiff limb freezes,
Of the huntsman hurrying o'er the plain,
Of the breath of the morning breezes.
Talk of the minstrel's lute,
The warrior's high endeavor,
When the honeyed lips are mute,
And the strong arm crushed forever;
Look back to the summer sun,
From the mist of dark December,—
Then say to the broken-hearted one,
"'Tie pleasant to remember."
The fairest spot of all the earth,
Is home.
The ono of all to which we turn,
Where'er we roam,
A pleasant home, a happy home,
There is no place so fair,
If those we love who smile for us,
But have their dwelling there.
The dearest word I ever learned,
Is home,
Tho sweetest song I ever heard,
Is "Home, sweet Home."
There may we turn when cares are o'er,
When day draws to a close,
And find among the loved ones there,
A season of repose. M. M. Sr
(4attrtsting mti,sctitaiq.
when persons are carried from city to city by
steam, and use the electric wires to talk with
one another, instead of plodding along in the
old coach, and giving Uncle Sam as many
Vveeks to carry a letter back to their friends
as it now requires minutes to transmit the
same intelligence; when the iron horse has
taken the place of the conestoga wagons, and
the old spinning wheel given way to the buz
zing gin ; it requires every man to be wide
awake and keep a sharp loOk. out for success
and comfort in this *odd, as well as to seek
salvation in the one to come. Cities, and
even States, are now but neighborhoods, coin
pared to what they were forty years ago; and
the individual who keeps on traveling the
beaten paths of his grandfathers will find
that he cannot climb the hill of prosperity,
but must remain forever in the valley of pov
erty and toil, while those who have sought
the railroad of science have acquired wealth
and are enjoying themselves at the summit.
My brethren: this world is like an old fash
ioned clock—the shorter you make the pen-
Zulum the faster she will move along; and if
you will persist in setting about the corners
talking politics, or walking around your fields
examining your fences on the Sabbath day,
when you should be at church, it will shorten
the pendulum and put my sermon in the
newspapers ; and when you come to a cool
shade you can set down and rest and at the
same time listen to my precepts.
I am. not going to waste time preaching to
you about the heathen in foreign countries,
or ask you to contribute to buy shirts for
them ; but I wish to direct your attention to
the poor benighted beings about home, who
take no country newspaper, and are groping
their way in darkness, without anything to
read, unless perhaps, some one has given
them a Jayne's almanac when they went to
the store, or wrapped their coffee in one of
Ayer's handbills.
My text, brethren, is one that does not re
quire a, reference to chapter and verse ; it is
one that every merchant, mechanic, farmer
and laborer should have by heart, and be
able to repeat at least once a year, and is as
follows : "for I take a county newspaper, and
lave the printer's receipt in my pocket."
Now my brethren: how many of you can
repeat the words of my text, and not feel a
thrill of pleasure passing through your veins
when you remember the pleasing stories, the
;useful and amusing items, the general news
from all parts of the world, and the local in
telligence which you have received every
week, which you have read over in the even
ings by your comfortable fireside ; and when
you happen to see an article in which the ed
itor calls on delinquents to pay up, you may
read it aloud, knowing that it is not intended
for you, "for I take a county paper, and have
the printer's receipt in my pocket,"
The county paper, my brethren, does not
occupy that high position in your thoughts it
should ; it is the great lever which keeps your
county ii
4 line with your neighbors, and with
out it' you would roll back into obscurity, and
people would know as little about you as we
do of the Japanese. it should be in every
family, and the man who lives without a
pewspaper has as much need of the prayer
and sympathies of the church as the poor ne
gro on the coast of Africa, or the untutored
savage of our western wilds. A house with
gut a newspaper is as barren of the necessary
fixtures as a meeting house without a Bible
Or a psalm-book. I know it, my brethren,
and I would have you wake up and rub the
dust out of your eyes and follow my exam
ple, "for I take a. county paper, and have the
printer's receipt in my pocket,"
The amount of capital to be invested would
not exceed two dollars a year, and the bene
fits to be derived from a newspaper of your
own, would repay you ten fold. Yes, m y
brethren, you could save the amount in shoe
leather, and not annoy your neighbors by
running after them to hear the news. You
could save your children's toes and not have
them limping about with their toenails stub-
bed off hurrying home from school to tell
you that a murder had been committed, a
town burned down, or some great occurrence
taken place, but you could do as I do, set
down and read the whole particulars to your
family ; "for I take a county paper, and have
the printer's receipt in my pocket."
My brethren, this thing of taking a county
paper, however small or unimportant it may
appear, is no humbug; I always get the worth
of my money out of it. As the election ap
proaches, I can see who are asking my votes,
and form an opinion as to the issues 42 be
decided and the candidates for whom I should
vote. If I have a case in court, I need not
spend two or three days runnincr ° after my
lawyer to know when it will be tried, but I
look over the list of causes, and if it is there
I can go prepared—but if it is not, or is
away down at the foot, I can stay at home
and save the expense of a lot of witnesses,
"for I take a county paper, and have the
printer's receipt in my pocket."
If I hear my neighbors talking about any
important subject, such as the Mormon dif
ficulties in Utah—the appointments made by
the President—the movements of our troops
against the Indians—the sale of the Main
Line of Canal—or any other matter of gen
eral interest, I do not stand by -with my eyes
and mouth open swallowing all that is said,
but join and take a part, "for I take a county
paper, and have the printer's receipt in my
When there comes a wet day, and. I can
do no work in my fields, I take up the last
paper, and, while resting my limbs and tak
ing my ease by a comfortable fire, my mind
starts out on a journey. As my eyes travel
over the sheet before me, I drop into New
York, and learn how Mrs. Cunningham and
her daughters are since their acquittal of the
murder of Dr. Burdell ; then -witness the
fight between the police forces of Mayor
Wood and Governor King. From New York
I go to Cincinnati, and that a United
States Marshal has been stabbed by a fugi
tive slave and all the city in excitement.—
So, from one place to another my imagination
travels, gathering up news and incidents
from all parts of the globe, and when dinner
is announced I find myself at home—no
limbs broken by railroad accidents—refresh
ed -in body and improved in knowledge—
" for I take a county paper, and have the
printer's receipt in my pocket."
My brethren, there are a great many pa
pers, as well as a great many people ; and I
am not going to point out any particular one
for you, any more than that you should sub
scribe or the one printed in your own county
first----then if you are able, send for two or
three others; they wont hurt you—because
newspapers are a kind of medicine which
never nauseate by over doses. But patronize
your own first—give it a chance to enlarge
the sphere of its usefulness—and as the edi
tor sees his list increasing he will be ena
bled to make greater exertions to satisfy his
customers. Never send your money away
for some city weekly until you have paid for
your own, simply because you can get the
dead matter of a daily a little cheaper; but
give your money to those who will buy your
grain,—" for I take my county paper, and
have the printer's receipt in my pocket."
There are a great many who take no paper
at all, or who subscribe for some religious
paper in the city, because they think they
have no time to read except on Sunday, and
then they would he committing a sin to read
anything that did not have the sanction of
the church. But, my brethren, when there
is anything important going on at home, or
when they have lost a valuable horse, or
cow, and they have torn the clothes off' their
backs hunting for it, they come to rue to
know if any one has taken up their horse or
cow—and I look over the advertisements and
tell them where to find it—" for I take a
county paper, and have the printer's receipt
in my pocket."
There are a great many things in a news
paper which appear of no account, but which
in reality prove profitable sometimes. I once
had a garden so overspread with dock that
they smothered everythina . I planted ; and
when I got my paper it told me they could
be killed by cutting them off close to the
ground with a sharp hoe and covering the
end of the roots with salt—l tried it, and
the first year I raised a fine lot of vegetables,
a portion of which I gave to the printer—
" for I take a county paper, and have the
printer's receipt in my pocket."
Then again, my brethren, I advise you all
to subscribe for your county paper, and. save
your money - wherever you can. The Gospel
preacher teaches you to shun the devil ; but
there is one "devil" which we cannot well
do -without, and that's the printer's devil.—
Ile told me about a new law for collecting
taxes, and when the County Treasurer came
round. I was ready to pay him of and make
five per cent on the operation—"for I take a
county paper, and have the printer's receipt
in my pocket."
The Lord's Prayer.
How many millions and millions of times
has that prayer been preferred by Christians
of all denominations I So wide, indeed, has
the sound thereof gone forth, that daily, and
almost without intermission, from the ends
of the earth, and afar off upon the sea, it is
ascending to heaven like incense and a pure
offering. Nor needs it the gift of prophecy to
foretell, that though "heaven and earth shall
pass away," these words of our blessed Lord
"shall not pass away," till every petition in it
has been answered—till the kingdom of God
shall come, and his will be dono on earth as
it is in heaven.—Montgomery.
SO - Don't you want a prime lot of butter?
asked a pedler, who had picked it up at fifty
different places.
"What sort of butter is it?" asked the mer
" The clar quill—made by wife from a dai
ry of forty cows—only two churnings."
" What makes it so many colors?"
" I guess," replied the Yankee, "you would
never have asked me that question if you had
seen my cows, for they are a darned, thight,
specklier than the butter is."
" What ! stay at home for that squalling
young one ? catch me to." And the young
mother threw on a bonnet and shawl, and
humming a gay air, sauntered out on the
promenade. One another bowed and smiled
as she moved along, flushed, triumphant and
beautiful. A young man met her just as she
was passing the shop of a well known firm.
" Ah I out amain, Deliah," he said, earnest
ly. "Where is Charley ?"
" With Hannah, of course. You don't ex
pect me to tie myself to him ?" she returned.
The young man's face grew cloudy. "No,"
he returned, with a half sigh ; " but I can't
bear to have him left with servants."
"Oh, well, I can," she said, and with a ra
diant smile left her husband hard at work
and flitted on.
" Answer all his questions ? make myself
a slave, as I should be obliged to ? Oh, no ;
can't think of it. If I give him his break
fast and plenty of play things, I consider my
duty done; I don't believe in fussing over
children—let them find out things as they
grow up !"
" There's the danger," replied the dear old
lady, casting a pitying look upon the richly
embroidered cloak her son's wife had bent
over all day, " unless the mother be constant
ly imparting the right kind of knowledge."
" Oh 1 you want to make him a piece of
perfection like his father; well, I can't say I
do. I don't like these faultless men. See—
now isn't the contrast beautiful. Come here,
lovey, he shall have the handsomest cloak in
the whole city 1"
" A cigar ! bless me what a boy, and only
twelve. Are you sure you saw him smoke
it ? Well, I dare say it made him sick
enough ; boys will be boys you know."
"Yes, but to think you should allow him
to go to the theater without my knowledge!"
and the husband groaned.
" Dear me 1 why what a fret you are in ; do
let the child see something of the world."
" In jail! my God, husband—not our boy!"
"Yes, in jail for stealing."
" Not our boy! not our Charley! No, it
cannot be! Let me die—kill me, but don't
tell me our Charley is a thief."
The boy was sentenced to the State's Pris
on, and the mother carried to a lunatic asy
lum the next day.
Lake is situate between the fortieth and for
ty-second degrees of north latitude, and is not
less than thirty miles in - length from north to
south, varying in width from five to thirty
miles. Its elevation above the Gulf of Mex
ico is two thousand four hundred feet, and it
forms the bottom of a vast basin, surrounded
by mountains, five or six thousand feet high.
Part of the banks and bottom of the lake are
composed of rocks and salt springs, and the
waters are entirely impregnated with saline
substance, so that evaporation shows thirty
three parts in one hundred of salt, while the
water of the sea shows only four parts in one
hundred. The waters of Salt Lake, there
fore are of an extraordinary density. No fish
can live there, and the borders of the lake
are sterile. Happily, in this accursed lake
there is a narrow passage leading to another
lake called Utah, (the name of an Indian
tribe,) the level of which is one hundred feet
above the surface of the first. The water in
Utah Lake is drinkable, fresh and limpid.—
The richness of the country in the neighbor
hood of these lakes caused Brigham Young
to resolve upon settling the Mormons at this
spot. He thought, with wisdom, that it was
better for him to become exclusive master of
this great basin, where the distance and na
ture offered an impregnable fortress, than to
go to California and encounter the hostility
of a crowd of gold-seekers. The resemblance
of Salt Lake to the Dead Sea could be presen
ted as a providential design, and an indica
tion of the place where the New Jerusalem
should be founded. The colony chose apa
sition extremely advantageous, upon the strait
between the two lakes, and founded there the
city of Desert, a name which signifies "bee
hive" in the pretended "Reformed Egyptian"
language. The aspect presented by this
young city is very picturesque. It is divided
into twenty quarters, each forming a separate
enclosure. The houses are built of adobes,
or bricks dried in the sun, are only a story
high, and are surrounded by gardens. The
springs, which descend the mountains, flow
into little rivulets into the gardens and
streets.—The stores are numerous and ele
gant. The State House is ninety-nine by for
ty feet. The town is protected by a fortified
inclosure, and the number of inhabitants is
about thirty thousand. Tho neighboring
country is highly cultivated, and returns with
usury the products which are confided to it.—
The waterfall between the lakes is utilized
for turning numerous mills. In fact, this col
ony is a new and striking example of the
creative and directing genius which seems to
be the privilege of the Anglo-Saxon race.
HE DRINKS.-HOW ominous that sentence
falls ! How we pause in conversation and
ejaculate—"lt's a pity." How his mother
hopes he will not when he grows older ; how
his sisters persuade themselves that it is only
a few wild oats he is sowing! And yet the
old men shake their heads and feel gloomy
when they think about it. Young men just
commencing life, buoyant with hope, don't
drink. You are freighted with a precious
cargo. The hopes of your old parents, of
your sisters, of your wives, of your children
—all are laid down upon you. In you the
aged live over again their young days; through
you only can that weary one you love obtain
a position in society ; and from the level on
which you place them, must your children
go into the great struggle of life.
Rearing Boys.
Who are Our Countrymen ?
There is something in the contemplation of
the mode in which America was settled, that,
in a noble breast, should for ever extinguish
the prejudices of national dislikes. Settled
by the people of all nations, all nations may
claim her for their own,. You can not spill a
drop of AMERICAN blood without spilling the
blood of the whole world. Be he Englishman,
Frenchman, German, Dane or Scot, the Eu
ropean who scoffs at an American, calls his
own brother Raca, and stands in danger of
the Judgment.
We are not a narrow tribe of men, with a
bigoted Hebrew. nationality, whose blood has
been debased in the attempt to ennoble it, by
maintaining an exclusive succession among
ourselves. No: our blood is as the flood of
the Amazon, made up of a thousand noble
currents all pouring into one. We are not a
nation so much as a WOR)S,D ; for unless we
may claim all the world for our sire, like
Melchiseclek, we are without father or mother.
For who were our father and our mother ?
or can we point to any Romulus and Remus,
for our founders ? Our ancestry is lost in
the universal paternity; and Omsar and Al
fred, St. Paul and Luther, and Homer and
Shakspeare, are as much ours as Washington,
- who is as much the world's as our 02VIL. We
are the heirs of all time, and with all nations
we divide our inheritance. On this western
hemisphere, all tribes and people are forming
into one federated whole; and there is a fu
ture which shall see the estranged children
of Adam restored as to the old. hearth-stone
in Eden.
The other world beyond this, which was
longed for by the devout before Columbus'
time, was found in the new; and the deep sea
line, that first struck these soundings, brought
up the soil of Earth's Paradise. Not a Par
adise then, or . now ; but to be made so, at God's
good pleasure, and in the fullness and. mel
lowness of time. The seed is sown, and the
harvest must come ; and our children's child
ren, on the world's jubilee-morning, shall all
go with their sickles to the reaping.
Then. shall the curse of Babel be revoked,
a new Pentecost come, and the language they
shall speak, shall be the language of Britain,
Frenchmen, and Danes, and Scots; and the
dwellers on the shores of the Mediterranean,
all in the regions about it ; Italians, and In
dians, and Moors ; there shall appear unto
them all "cloven tongues," as of tire.—AIEL
Water ! oh, bright, beautiful water for me!
Water! Heaven-gifted, earth-blessing, flow
er-loving water ! It was the drink of Adam
in the purity of his Eden home ; it mirrored
back the beauty of Eve in her unblushing
toilet ; it wakens to life again the crushed
and fading flower ; it cools, oh ! how grate
fully, the parched tongue of the feverish in
valid; it falls down to us in pleasant showers
from its home with the glittering stars; it
descends to us in feathery storms of snow ;
it smiles in glittering dew-drops at the glad
birth of morning ; it clusters in great tear
drops at night over the graves of those we
love; its name is wreathed in strange bright
colors by the sunset cloud ; its name is breath
ed by the dying soldier, far away 'on the tor
rid field of battle ; it paints old forts and tur
rets from a gorgeous easel upon your winter
window ; it clings upon the branches of trees
in frost-work of delicate beauty ; it dwells in
the icicle ; it lives in the mountain glacier ;
it forms the vapory ground-work upon which
God paints the rainbow; it gushes in pearly
streams from the gentle hill-side; it makes
glad the sunny vales; it murmurs cheerful
songs in the ear of the humble cottager ; it
answers back the smiles of happy children ;
it kisses the pure cheek of the water-lily ; it
wanders like a vein of molten silver away,
away to the distant sea. Oh ! bright, beau
tiful, health-inspiring, heart-gladdening wa
ter! Everywhere around us dwelleth thy
meek presence ; twin angel sister of all that
is good and precious here; in the wild forest,
on the grassy plain, slumbering in the bosom
of the lonely mountain, sailing with viewless
wings through the humid air, floating over
us in curtains of more than regal splendor ;
home of the healing angel when his wings
bend to the woes of this fallen world.
"Oh water for me, bright water for me!
Anti wine for the tremulous debauehee!"
What wanderer's heart will not beat at the
mention of - the word home? Be it ever so
homely, it has associations that will render it
dear to the heart of the wanderer. Ile may
wander away from his home, and. mingle in
the bustle and strife of the world, and form
new ties of friendship, and for a time banish
from his memory the home of his childhood;
but at still and lonely hour, as he listens per
chance to the autumn winds, the thoughts of
home will come, and of the loved and cher
ished there; and fancy will waft him again
to that remembered spot, to greet familiar
faces, to roam again in old familiar lands,
and press the hands of the companion of oth
er days, now possibly cold in the grave.
What place is there like the home where
affection dwells, where with gentle smiles
and loving words we are greeted by one and
all? There in true beauty the heart may
bloom when we are weary with wandering,
and our heart weary with the world and its
fading pleasures; there we may find rest.—
There is some kind hand ever ready to min
ister to our wants in sickness, to smoothe the
pillow or bathe tho burning brow. When
pain and care have ploughed deep furrows in
the heart, and when deserted by all besides,
there are those at home who will watch over
the dying couch, and with kindly words of
comfort smooth the pathway to the grave.
Though angels' feet may have crossed the
threshold, and, lingering, bore some loved
ones away, we have the sweet assurance that
they are waiting to welcome us to homes more
beautiful and bright—homes where the flow
ers never fade; and there beside life's peace
ful river, the friends that meet will meet for
pe=.lFlost men employ their first years so
as to make their last miserable.
Gough on Water.
The Wanderer's Home.
1 1 ik,:::,.,....„
Hj'........'..-:::.; 1..i::-........
"Mother is dead!" What a volume of
thought do these sad words express? What
pen can brine to view the agony of the mind
when this sad truth is realized? The heart
shrinks back, and denies to intruding expres
sion a knowledge of its inward woes. The
imagination of another fails to picture them;
and when we ourselves, who have sustained
this loss, turn our eyes inward and for a mo
ment glance at the naked reality, we are wont
to make ourselves disbelieve it, and repel the
overwhelming flood of sorrow which, ever
and anon, like the Waves of the ocean, flow to
and fro upon our hearts, until exhausted we
sink into a lethargy, from which, when we
awaken, it seems as if we ourselves had pass
ed into another world, in which everything
seems tinged with an unnatural gloom.
It is sad,—it is very sad to know that
mother is no more.
The sun will shine, the birds will sing, the
flowers will bloom in seeming mockery, the
same as before; but there is a void in the
family,—her seat is vacant; and as we gath
er around the family board we seem to deny
the truth to ourselves, and listen as though
we heard her coming footstep. But, alas!
she comes not. Mother is dead! Away
from our home they have laid her in the cold
ground,—the clammy dew damp of death
upon her brow,—she is shut out from our
sight forever—forever? No not forever.—
The light of heaven flings a brilliant hope
over all our sorrows. With its aid we can
penetrate the darkest clouds of grief, and
look forward to the bright future with confi
dence that we shall meet her again. With
its aid death is not death;—it bath not tho
sting the world would have us think;it is but
the transfer of the soul from this, its transi
tory home, to everlasting bliss; it is but the
passage of the storm which leaves the rain
bow of hope to cheer its blighted subjects.
We love to linger around mother's grave,
and muse upon the happy past when she was
with us. We love to think of the Merry
Christmas and other holy-days; and although
with the semblance of them is linked the sad
truth that they can never come again,—al
though it tears open anew the wounds of our
hearts, yet we are willing to suffer these
pangs that we may keep ever fresh in our
memories that happy past, now forever
LIGUTNING RODS.—As this is the season
when thunder storms prevail, and barns, par
ticularly, are destroyed by lightning, we do
not know in what way we can better urge
upon our.readers the advantages of lightning
rods, than by publishing the experience of
men who have made them the subject of their
Edward Stabler, President of the Montgom
ery County Mutual Insurance Company, in
forms the editor of the American Farmer,
"Our risks are about four millions, and we
have probably five hundred barns insured, a
large proportion having lightning rods ; and
of the whole number destroyed by lightning,
not one was thus protected ; nor has a single
building, insured or uninsured, so far as has
come to my knowledge, and protected with
rods, been destroyed by lightning."
The Lycoming County (Pa.,) Mutual In
surance Company has been in operation seven
teen years ; and has issued within that time,
fifty-one thousand three hundred and thirty
three policies; not one protected by lightning
rods was destroyed by lightning during the
whole period.
The Worcester County (Mass.) Mutual In
surance Company has been in operation thirty
four years, and in their late Annual Report
says: "No building with rods on it, being
injured by lightning (when properly fitted)
has come to our knowledge."
ONE or mire LYNCUERS TIUNC.-A young
man, named Finch, son of Deacon Finch, of
Massilon, Cedar county, lowa, hung himself
last Tuesday, about 4 o'clock, P.M. Ile was
with the vigilance committee at the time they
took lielso and his comrade, and on casting a
vote whether they should be hung or not, ho
cast his vote in favor of hanging, but left be
fore they were hung. When he returned
home his mother asked him if they had
caught the men. lle said they had, and he
had voted to hang them. His mother told
him he ought not to take that which he could
not give. After she had talked with him a
few moments he left her and went to his plow
ing, attended to that for awhile, when he
hitched his horse, and taking one of the reins
went to a tree, tied the strap to a low limb
and around his neck, then let his weight
down, and when found his knees touched the
ground and he was dead.----Anamosn (Iowa)
Rolm—An illumination of this church must
be a most ina,gnifiCent sight. There are three
of these spectacles annually—on the eve of
Easter Sunday, on the eve of St. Peter's fes
tival, and the evening succeeding. At the Sil
ver illumination, which commences at dusk,
the church is lit up by five thousand nine
hundred lanterns. At the Golden illumina
tion, nine hundred lamps are lighted, mak
ing six thousand eight hundred lights in all.
These latter have the effect of torches ; they
aro iron plates filled with tallow and turpen
tine. These nine hundred fires are lighted
with a rapidity which seems magical—when
the first stroke of the hour is heard, there
has not been one lighted; when the last
stroke falls, the entire building is all a blaze!
The process occupies about eight seconds;
the fire commences on the cross, and sweeps
down with a swiftness and grandeur which
defies description. Three hundred and eighty
two men are employed in lighting the lamps
—clinging to the cross, 43`3 feet from the
ground, suspended by rapes over the domes,
along the facade, and the pillars of the col
onnades; their position is one of imminent
danger, and extreme unction is administered
before they ascend, so that in case any acci
dent should happen, it may not find them
AZ—A wag says that a Miss is now-a-days,
in circumference, "as good as a mile."
Editor and Proprietor.
NO. 8.
Mother Is Dead
"florae thy joys are passing lovely— -
Joys no stranger heart can tell."
What a charm rests upon the endearing
name—my home 1 consecrated by domestic
love, that golden key of human happiness.—
Without this, home would be like a temple
stripped of its garlands; there a father wel
comes, with fond affection; there a brother's
fine sympathies comfort in the hour of dis
tress, and assist in every trial; there a pious
mother first taught the infant lips to lisp the
name of Jesus ; and there a loved sister
dwells, the companion of early days.
Truly, if there is aught that is lovely here
below, it is home—sweet home It is the
oasis in the desert. The passing of our days
may be painful; our path may be checkered
by sorrow and care; unkindness and frowns
may wither the joyousness of the heart, ef
face the happy smiles from the brow ; and be
dew life's way with tears ; yet, when memory
hovers over the past, there is no place-where
it delights to linger, as the loved scene of
childhood's home I It is the polar star of
existence. What cheers the mariner, far
away from his native land in a foreign port,
or tossed upon the bounding billows, as ho
paces the deck at midnight alone—what
thoughts fill his breast? lie is thinking of
the loved ones far away at his own happy
cottage; in his mind's eye he sees the smiling
group seated around the cheerful fireside.—
In imagination ho - hears them uniting their
voices in singing the sweet songs which he
loves. Ile is anticipating the hour when he
shall return to his native land, to greet those
absent ones-aCtlear to his heart.
man has not a natural grace more bewitching
than a sweet laugh. It is like the sound of
flutes on the water. It leaps from the heart
in a clear sparkling rill, and the heart that
hears it feels as if bathed in the cool, exhil
crating spring. And so of the smile. A
beautiful smile is to the female countenance
what the sunbeam is to the landscape. It
embellishes an inferior face, and redeems an
ugly one. A smile, however, should not be- -
come habitual, or insipidity is the result; nor
should the mouth break into a smile on ono
side, the other remaining passive' and un
moved, for this imparts an air of deceit and
grotesqueness to the face. A disagreeable
smile distorts the lines of beauty and is more
repulsive than a frown. There are many
kinds of smiles, each having• a distinctive
character ; some announce goodness and
sweetness, others betray sarcasms, bitterness;
and pride; some soften the countenance by
their languishing tenderness, others brightmv
it by their brilliant and spiritual vivacity.—
Wazing and poring before a mirror cannot
aid in acquiring beautiful smiles half so well
as to turn the gaze inward, to watch the re- -
flection of evil, and is illuminated and beau
tiful by all sweet thoughts.—Porter's Spirit
of the Times..
supposed to have suffered martyrdom, or was
put to death by the sword, at the city of
St. Mark was dragged through the streets•
of Alexandria, in Egypt, till he expired.
St. Luke was hanged upon an olive tree,
in Greece.
St. John was put in a cauldron of boiling
oil at Rome and escaped death. He after
wards died a natural death at Ephesus, in
St. James the Great was beheaded at Je
St. James the Less was thrown from a
pinnacle or wing of the temple, and then
beaten to death with a fuller's club.
St. Philip was hanged up against a pillar
at therapohs, a city of Phrygia„
St. Bartholomew was flayed alive by com
mand of a barbarous king.
St. Andrew was bound to a cross, whence
be preached to the people till he expired.
St. Thomas was run through the body by
a lance, near Malabar, in the East Indies.
St. Jude was shot to death with arrows.
St. Simeon Zelotes was crucified in Persia.
St. Matthias was stoned and then behead
Mon - mos - NEWSPAPERS.—The Mormons, be- •
side their papers published in Utah, have'
'The Mormon,' published in the city of Nev"
York, The Western Standard,' San Fran
cisco, California, The Millenial Star,' Liv
erpool, England, Zion's Trumpet,' Wales,
The Scandinavian Star,' Copenhagen, Den
mark, Zion's Watchman,' Australia, and
The Truthteller,' Geneva, Switzerland.--
They have missionaries in France, Germany,
Italy, Norway, Sweden, Gibraltar, Cape of
Good Hope, East Indies and China. In the
towns of Erie and Veteran, in Chemung
county, New York, they have a regular
church, with an elder or minister, who claims
a miraculous power of healing the sick by"
imposition of hands, casting out devils, &e.
is much esteemed for table use. The time
for sowing is during the latter part of July,
or first days in August. Large crops have
been raised on newly-cleared land, which
was too root!! to be plowed, by raking and
burning it over, and then harrowing it before
sowing the seed. Where the ground can be
cultivated properly, it should be freshly bro
ken and harrowed before sowing. Sow in
cloudy, damp weather—before a moderate
rain, if possible. A top dressing of ashes,
sown broadcast, will be very beneficial to the'
plants. If troubled by the fly, sow some .
flour of brimstone on the plants while wet
with dew. Keep the weeds down, and the
ground loose with a hoe, if you want an ex.- -
DEANIS Br LICHTNING.—Never, within our
recollection, have there been so many deaths•
by lightning as there have been during the
present summer. In the storms of last week,
it may safely be said that not less than one
hundred persons were killed, in New Eng
land, New York and Ohio, where the light
ning was most destructive. In this city, and
indeed throughout Pennsylvania, the fatality
has been small; but elsewhere it has been:
remarkably great. The lightning rod does
not seem to be always a protection from the'
subtle fluid, for many houses have been dam
aged that were provided with this safeguard.
It is worth while for scientific men to inquire
into the causes of the unusual severity of
thunder storms, the dependence that is to be
placed upon lightning rods, and whether
these are not susceptible of improvements
that will make them more efficacious,There
has been very little done to iniprovehe light,
ning rod since Franklin's time, and yet we
are much more familiar with electricity than
we then were. Some one ought to bring the
subject before the American Association for
the Advancement of Science, which is soon
to hold its annual session at Montreal.—Plait-
In Delaware, the peach crop bids fair
to be more abundant than it has been for
many years.